To be completely honest, I got the idea for this whole thing initially because of an assignment I had in my AP Statistics class that was called "The Path of Least Resistance." The assignment was about airplane flight-distances and comparing confidence intervals, but I had just thought that the title of the assignment sounded like it could definitely be a fanfic title, and naturally my mind immediately goes to Bishop/Aidan, and then my mind went to one of my biggest headcanons/kinks for them and everything about the story was just there. So then I started writing it in my Physics class and all this happened.
Bishop gets the feeling that Aidan has a strong sense of rebellion in his soul when he first tries to kiss him but instead gets pushed away and a disgusted look.
Although later he supposes that that incident doesn't quite count, despite him being right.
"If you haven't noticed since you've turned me, I am a man!" Aidan shouts, as though oblivious to the fact that a man can love another man. But Bishop knows he simply doesn't want to bring in the subject of morals and the Bible into this.
He remembers what it was like to live in a society that hated men who loved other men and would even hang men who committed that crime—technically he still does, but he's not technically living, nor does he consider himself a part of society anymore. And he hasn't been for about 300 years.
But for Aidan, it's only been a couple years. Aidan's wife and son have been dead (killed and drained by Bishop, but in Aidan's mind killed by him) for only a year and half. He's not entirely accustomed to life as a vampire yet, and he won't be for a while.
"It's different," Bishop tells him, earnest and reaching out, trying to keep a hand on his shoulder—but Aidan steps away. "It doesn't matter because I'm your maker. We're bonded." Regardless of whether Aidan normally likes women or not.
Aidan's face contorts, and it's both anger and confusion.
"Why...?" He trails off, but Bishop knows what he means: It's not a Why did you do that? but rather, Why did I like it so much?
"We're soulmates, Aidan."
He can't kiss him again, though, because Aidan is gone. Bishop can chase after him if he wants, but he figures he ought to give him time to let it sink in.
Aidan returns later and says nothing about what happened. The next time they gorge themselves on blood, though—a man and his wife traveling in a carriage through a wooded area—he is open to Bishop's kisses and touches. Their mouths covered in blood, they press deep into each other's lips and revel in the taste, sexually charged from the bloodlust. Neither of them can remember ever having felt that good before, while feeding or having sex or otherwise.
Even later, when they're both perfectly sober and satisfied in every sense, lying together inside the carriage with the blood of that couple smeared all over them and the carriage (they let the horses run away), Aidan allows Bishop to kiss his shoulder. Which Bishop does as both a sign of affection and possession.
Aidan is his.
Some years and many blood-drunk evenings together later, though, Aidan seems to decide otherwise. Bishop never quite understands why he leaves—or tries to, really. He can never really leave his maker. That's just something you don't do.
As expected, he returns. Well, Bishop pulls him back, but he convinces himself that it's destiny, that no matter what Aidan will always come back—it's just that sometimes, destiny needs a little help from him. It's destiny that Bishop will do anything and everything to keep him by his side.
That makes two times that Aidan has tried to leave in the past ten or so years that he's known him, though. Bishop figures, now, that he was right before, when he judged that Aidan had a rebellious nature. The man was fighting in the American Revolution when he found him, for God's sake.
This needs to be quelled. There is a bit of Aidan that will always want to defy his maker—it seems even the fact that they are soulmates is not enough—unless Bishop manages to nip it in the bud before he is left alone again, before it causes any real damages on the plans he has. He can't let Aidan ever leave him for good and ruin what he wants to build with him.
Kisses alone aren't enough. Aidan accepts them, occasionally returns them even when they're not feeding, now, but Bishop still doesn't feel quite whole. It's not that Aidan will sometimes meet women and become fond of them or just sleep with them, for he feels no jealousy for those week-long crushes because none of them matter—Bishop, over the years, finds a couple people like that, too. It's one of the troubles of being immortal. But they're just humans. At the end of the day, Aidan is still his.
No, it's that it's hard when it feels like Aidan is drifting away only to snap back to him later. But he'll always come back, Bishop tells himself. It shouldn't matter because he'll always come back.
The thing is, though, he wouldn't have to come back if he just never drifted in the first place. So there must be something to keep Aidan from acting on his rebellious nature—or crushing that nature completely, keeping him from ever wanting to leave.
In the autumn of 1836, Bishop has an idea and understands what he needs to do: make Aidan fall in love with him over time as Bishop has already done with him—make himfeel that same sense of possession (a stronger one than he already must feel, anyway) and obsession. It's really just heightening what Aidan already feels, Bishop figures. Just to make sure that he stays and remains loyal. And that he doesn't get confused (because obviously he can never really hate Bishop, he just must get confused sometimes) and try to resist.
He tells himself that he's doing this because he loves Aidan more than anything.
For the beginning of that winter, Bishop purposely leads them to where they're cornered by the cold and snow—not necessarily inhibited because, as vampires, they can function fine in any weather—but cornered by the emptiness of it. There are no people for miles upon miles. Ergo, no food. The way Bishop plans it, they end up away from proper sources of food for nearly a week. Without blood, Aidan starves. Just as planned.
When it nearly becomes too much, Bishop tells him: "It may be too long before we find the next town or even a cabin or farmhouse."
"No, no—weather never bested us before, my friend," Aidan says, determined. "We can hold out and then find a courthouse full of men and women to gorge ourselves on and make up for this all." His smile then is weak, but still very charming.
"Drink from me," he offers shortly, tenderly grabbing Aidan's shoulder so he can face the man's slightly shocked expression. "You're getting weak. Just have some to regain your strength for a day—"
"But you're weak as well!" Aidan's eyes widen in worry, though they still flick to Bishop's neck afterward. He finds the protest endearing. "It would only do worse for you. Let's just keep going."
Still, Bishop holds on. "You need it. I'm older—I'm stronger, I can make it longer than you. Just take a few mouthfuls, and we'll both be fine."
Aidan involuntarily licks his lips and seems to be about to attempt to protest, so before he can, Bishop throws his other arm out so that his wrist is barely an inch from the other man's mouth. Right then, he sees the temptation wax and wane in Aidan's eyes as he tries to fight it off but fails and still ends up looking like the hungriest man in the world. It's oddly pitiful, for the moment—
Until his pupils enlarge to span across his whole eye and his fangs extend, and he brings Bishop's wrist to his mouth and bites down to drink.
In most circumstances, a vampire's blood is hardly enough nutrients that a vampire needs to remain strong and healthy—not much better than animal blood, really. But in the case of a vampire drinking from their own maker, it's almost unhealthily addictive. Aidan can't possibly have known this before now, so he wasn't prepared. But now that he's swallowing down the dark blood from Bishop's veins, he's very visibly and desperately enjoying it. Much more than he would be if it were normal blood that he's drinking after nearly a week without it.
Aidan's getting drunk on it, and just the idea of that—that the vampire he made and whom he's in love with, holding power over him and yet needing him—makes Bishop reach out to grab Aidan's hair and pull his head away. For a split second, the blood-starved vampire looks confused and empty and angry, but he doesn't have much time to feel all those things before their lips quite literally crash together.
The taste of his own blood on Aidan's lips... oh, Bishop can't imagine a better feeling. Aidan's fangs brush his bottom lip and Bishop purposely pushes his lip up so that a bead of blood drips out and onto the other man's tongue. That seems to be enough to make him want to leave Bishop's mouth and kiss down to the vein on his neck and then sink his teeth in.
"Aidan," he whispers, unable to help it. The first vampire you turn is the closest bond you could possibly make, and something like Aidan feeding from him is emotionally and physically thrilling for the both of them. A connection like theirs can be stimulated in certain ways, and this is one of them.
Bishop loves the fact that it's him who has to pull away rather than Aidan, who lost himself in it not out of hunger, but from the addictive qualities of his maker's blood. That means it's working, which is worth the slight lightheadedness. It's worth everything.
"Not too much, now," he says teasingly, holding Aidan's face and giving him a stupid smile.
At least half a minute passes before Aidan's face is back to relatively human-looking and exhausted of lust. In the moment that he's finally himself, he sighs and leans into Bishop's hand, then brushes his own over the rapidly healing mark on the older vampire's neck.
"I'm sorry," he breathes. "I couldn't stop."
"It's fine. That's kind of what happens when you drink from your maker."
At that moment, Bishop is distracted by the blood all over Aidan's mouth, so he pulls him in to lick it all off. They fall into half-lazy, half-passionate kissing, which gets somewhat uncomfortable because this frostbitten plain has no trees or rocks to lean on. But it's still worth it.
Without really meaning to, Bishop whispers "I love you" into Aidan's lips in the small gap of a moment he has in between kisses. Rather than responding with similar words or even trying to, though, he "Mmmphs" against Bishop's lips as he pushes his head forward and pulls his face closer.
When they finally resume traveling again, the future looks good for them. Bishop feels sure that now that Aidan knows how addicting his blood is, he won't want to leave. As long as he continues to let him do this. And perhaps let Aidan know from experience how addicting it is to be drunk from by your soulmate, too.
There are several other things he has in mind over the years. He learns what else he can do to keep Aidan by his side and what paths to take to simultaneously get them to the future that he wants: Both of them. Ruling. Together. For a long time, he believes that, in spite of the fact that Aidan still needs to be pulled back to him at times, nothing will make him full-scale rebel. He believes that he has essentially succeeded.
Because Bishop has convinced himself that Aidan loves him back.
I swear one day I'll write a Bishop/Aidan fic that isn't sad at all. And that day might be tomorrow, actually, because I've had another one-shot idea in my head since yesterday that I really want to write.
Considering how small the Bishop/Aidan part of the Being Human fandom is (let alone how small/inactive the Being Human US fandom even is), it would actually just be common courtesy for you to review. There aren't many of you, so you're practically required to give me feedback. Because if you don't, then that leaves maybe 6 or 7 other people to possibly read this and review.
So yeah. Reviews. PLEASE.