Victor found the most beautiful creature he had seen in all his years in a dirty alley behind a tavern. The man was stumbling and filthy with sweat. His long black hair lay limp and tangled, and his shirt hung open above breeches stained dark in spots with spilled wine. He might not have caught Victor's eye at all, but then he leaned against a brick wall and glanced up from the ground for just a moment, and Victor bit his lip at the first sight of those eyes, deep brown and only barely concealing banked embers.

Victor tasted blood, and he felt a need uncurl within him. He wanted nothing but to fan the flames he could see waiting in the man's eyes.

He may have lost control of himself for a moment, moved a little faster than a human strictly ought to, but then he was staring into those eyes up close, pressing the stranger back against the rough brick as he traced the man's cheekbone with the tip of one finger.

The dark-eyed stranger sucked in a shuddering breath. "W-who are you?" He stuttered, and Victor could taste the tinge of fear in his mind as it roiled into a whisper of excitement and the earthy flavor of despair. "Do I know you?"

"Not yet, cherie," Victor purred. He buried his fingers in all that lovely black hair and tilted the man's head back, exposing the pale column of his throat. He leaned in, inhaling deeply at the juncture of neck and shoulder, and felt the stranger shudder beneath him. Victor whispered against his flesh, "What's your name, my sweet?"

"Yuuri," the man gasped, digging his fingers into Victor's back in the place where, in another world, dark wings might sprout. "I'm Katsuki Yuuri."

"Yuuri, my darling," Victor sighed. "My love." Tempted by the willing creature in his arms, Victor couldn't resist grazing just the tips of his fangs across the line of Yuuri's neck. The fear sparked in Yuuri's mind where it brushed against Victor's own as the man realized what kind of creature held him captive.

Then, the fear was overwhelmed in a tide of sadness and resolution. "Yes," the man said, sinking his fingers into Victor's silvery locks to press his head closer. "Do it. Kill me."

Victor pulled back abruptly, holding Yuuri out at arm's length. "Woah," he said. "Hang on a second. Are you serious?"

Yuuri's blinked back at him, lines of confusion etched in his forehead. "Yes?" He ventured, hesitantly. "I really hate my life right now. It might be easier to just be vampire food."

Victor dragged his hand down his face, cocking his hip. "Shit," he said. "You're way too drunk for this, but actually my plan was to bite you and then give you my own blood so that you could live forever with me as an immortal. If you really want to die then this probably isn't a good idea."

"Oh," Yuuri said as he slumped back against the wall. "I thought you wanted to eat me. Uh, that's kind of a big thing to ask someone you just met? I mean, it's kind of like a marriage proposal isn't it? I should probably take some time to think about that when I'm more sober."

"You're right," Victor said. "I don't know what I was thinking just jumping you that way. It's just that I think you're really attractive."

"Really?" Yuuri colored prettily and Victor watched with fascination as the blush travelled down his throat to his collar bones. "I mean, me too. I mean, you're really very attractive also."

Victor smiled, showing a hint of fang. "I'm so glad you think so." He looked down and began to rummage in the pockets of his frock coat, then pulled out a key ring. He removed one of the keys, then handed the other to Yuuri. "Look," he said. "That's the key to my hotel. It's got the room number on it. Why don't you think it over for a few days and then come find me when you're sober: at night, obviously," he finished with a wink.

Yuuri tucked the key up into his palm, pressing the teeth into his flesh hard to be sure he wasn't dreaming. "I will," he promised.

Victor leaned in again then, pressing his body into Yuuri's from ankle to chest. He could feel Yuuri's heart pounding strong against his own night-chilled skin, and he leaned their foreheads together, silver locks tangling with black. "A farewell kiss," he whispered against Yuuri's lips. "In case I don't see you again."

Yuuri made a strangled noise that sounded very much like a yes, then surged forward beneath him. His lips parted, and his tongue crept into Victor's mouth. It was tentative at first, and then Yuuri cradled the back of his skull once more, crushing them together, and ran his tongue deliberately across Victor's fangs, seasoning their kiss with rich copper.

Victor whimpered as Yuuri's mind collided with his own through the blood, and he was hit with the doubled sensations of lust tinted deliciously with threads of fear and pain. He couldn't keep himself from pushing forward even as Yuuri withdrew, chasing that glorious connection for just a moment more.

Yuuri pulled away, and Victor slumped forward, leaning his face into Yuuri's shoulder and letting the scent of skin, sweat, blood, and alcohol overwhelm him. Yuuri patted him on the back lightly. "I think I'm sobering up," he said, sounding drunker than ever.

Victor shook his head, not-so-accidentally nuzzling his neck in the process, then pulled back. "I think you probably still need a little more time, much as I'd love to just take you right now in this alley." He grinned as Yuuri closed his eyes - enjoying the idea, perhaps? "But, you should have space to make your choice." He ran his fingertips lightly down the side of Yuuri's face, along his neck, then ghosted over a collarbone with a single sharp fingernail.

"See you tomorrow night?" He asked, withdrawing his hand. Yuuri nodded, but his eyes were still closed. Victor waited until at last Yuuri looked at him once more, then turned away, flipping the tail of his coat out dramatically behind him before slipping away through the dark cobblestone streets.

The sun was barely down when someone began pounding on Victor's door the next day. Picturing an angry mob with pitchforks and torches just waiting to slay the evil vampire, he went to the door in nothing but an open shirt and his underthings. If he was going to die in a pyre set by some type of religious fervor, he may as well make his murders as sexually uncomfortable as he possibly could on his way out.

Instead, he found Yuuri standing in the narrow hallway of his hotel, his fist still raised to knock again. He slowly lowered his hand as Victor caressed his way down Yuuri's body with his eyes, taking in the complete picture. His hair was clean now, tied back neatly in a low ponytail. He wore a deep blue vest over his shirt, and his breeches were black and fit nicely. Victor leaned to right slightly to see past the frame of the door. The breeches fit very nicely.

Yuuri blushed and fidgeted in the doorway. "May I come in?" Victor found himself missing the messy, open-shirted Yuuri from the night before a bit, but stepped back and opened the door to allow him to pass.

Yuuri stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, observing the dark sheets hung over the windows and the wrecked and bare brass bed. He took a deep breath and then turned to face Victor again, those embers bursting to life in his eyes once more. "I've decided," Yuuri said, his expression resolute. "Make me like you."

Victor stepped forward and gently pushed Yuuri back until his knees collided with the edge of the mattress. Yuuri collapsed back onto the bed, and Victor followed, aligning their hips, and descended to mouth again at Yuuri's neck.

Yuuri moaned, writhing beneath him, but then abruptly stopped. "Wait, does this mean I'll have to kill people to survive?"

Victor sat up, propping his head up on his arm to watch Yuuri's face. "No, not really," he said. "You can probably live off rats or something. Also, you can feed from people without killing them."

"Oh," Yuuri smiled. "That's fine, then. Go ahead."

Victor leaned in again, inhaling the new and different scents of a Yuuri who was not dead drunk in a disgusting alley. He smelled of soap and honeysuckle, and Victor grazed his fangs over his ear lobe. "I can't wait," he whispered, "for our minds to become one in the bite."

Yuuri's head fell back against the bed. "Oh yeah, is it going to be like that all the time? Because that's pretty intense."

Victor sighs, trying to keep the frustrated edge from his voice. "No, unfortunately once I've turned you our minds will be closed to one another unless we choose to bite each other again. It makes it very difficult for vampires to communicate with those they've turned."

Yuuri frowned and reached up to gently stroke Victor's hair back from his face. "Why? Can't we just talk like normal people? All the mixed up emotions when you bit me were wonderful, but wouldn't it be strange if I was inside your mind all the time and you never got any privacy?"

"I… suppose so," Victor admitted reluctantly. Yuuri smiled so sweetly up at him then, he thought for a moment he could feel his dead heart beat.

He leaned in once more, brushing a gentle kiss across Yuuri's lips, then trailed softly along his jaw, nipping ever so slightly as he reached the junction of his throat once more.

"Wait," Yuuri said suddenly, clutching Victor's waist. "I've been thinking-"

Victor groaned and sat up on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. "Maybe you need more time," he said, an edge of hysteria creeping into his voice at being so very close to what he wanted, only to be denied. "You could come back tomorrow."

"No no no," Yuuri grabbed his arm. The bed squeaked in protest as Yuuri pulled him back down at his side. "I definitely want this."

"You're sure?" Victor leaned over him. His hair fell forward to curtain their faces, and he tucked it back behind his ear. "You don't have more questions?"

"No more questions," Yuuri promised. He reached up and slowly unfastened the little buttons at the neck of his shirt, then tilted his head back to put the veins in his neck on tantalizing display. Nevermind the man's eyes, it was Victor who had wound up in flames. "I'm ready."

Victor always did like a man who knew how to ask for what he wanted.

Afterward, they lay back on the bed and Victor watched closely as Yuuri gasped through the change. He pulled the ribbon from Yuuri's dark hair and combed it out with his fingers, looking for highlights within the blackness.

"Now that you're a creature of the night like me," Victor murmured. "I want to move into your house. I'll bring along my blind mortal father, and we can play house and have to tiptoe around him and pretend we're just ordinary men whenever we're in our home."

Yuuri turned sharply and narrowed his eyes at Victor, who was pleased to see gold flecks coming alive within the brown, just as he'd hoped when they met. "What the hell, Victor? Why would we do that? The moving in together part is fine, but everything else about that sounds like a terrible idea."

Victor tapped his chin, then shrugged. "When you're right, you're right." He wrapped his arms around Yuuri's waist, pulling him in close. "It's a good thing we sorted all this out now, otherwise we'd probably be fighting about it for centuries or something."

"God," Yuuri pulled a face, but wrapped an arm around Victor in return, stroking along his spine. "Imagine if you'd just bitten me while I was drunk and depressed and we never really talked about anything first. I'd probably have set my house on fire or something to get away from you."

"Good thing we know how to have conversations like adults," Victor said, nuzzling into Yuuri's shoulder affectionately.

Then they made out for the next fifty years, pretty much constantly.

Fifty Years Later

The front door to the apartment slammed against the wall as it opened, knocking all the framed artwork askew. "I'm home," Victor called. "I have a surprise for you!"

Yuuri carefully marked his place in his current book and set it on the side table, then walked to the parlor to see what Victor had done now.

Victor was standing half in the doorway. He'd cut his beautiful hair short for the evening to fit the fashion of the time, and it always made him look older than the twenty-seven years at which he'd been turned. Yuuri smiled softly, thinking of how long he and Victor would have to enjoy their twenties, but Victor wasn't smiling.

"What's wrong?" Yuuri asked. "I thought you had a surprise."

"I know you're planning to leave me," Victor said, his tone and expression both deadpan.

Yuuri blinked at him, confused. Never in all their time together had he seriously considered leaving. "Um, what? What gave you that idea?"

"I heard you talking in your sleep about some other man, some 'Chihoko'," Victor explained. Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, but Victor cut him off. "But now you can't possibly leave me, see?"

Victor stepped fully into the parlor. In his other hand was the arm of a young blonde boy, maybe fifteen years of age. There were smudges of dirt and soot on his face, and unpatched rips in his simple clothing. He sneered up at Victor, revealing his own set of small white fangs "Look," Victor said cheerfully. "Now we have a son! You wouldn't abandon our boy, would you? His name is Yuri, like you."

Yuuri gaped at him, at a loss for words. "What?"

Victor gently pushed the teenager into the parlor, and the boy stumbled toward Yuuri before catching himself. "There you go, Little Yuri. Go give Daddy a cuddle."

Yuri reached toward Yuuri, but instead seized the flickering oil lamp from the table behind him. "Fuck you both," he screamed, smashing the oil lamp on the rug. "YOU'RE NOT MY REAL DADS!" Then he ran past Victor and out into the night.

Later, Yuuri turned to Victor on the sidewalk, the fires of what had once been their home warming his skin to almost human temperatures.

"I was never going to leave you," he said. "But if I was, abducting an orphan would not be the correct solution, just so we're clear."

Victor, overcome with joy that their relationship was never in danger, simply hugged Yuuri tightly and began peppering his face with kisses.