It was 1923, a beautiful summer night in New York. Eric dressed carefully; he'd spent so much time discreetly courting Andrew Harris. Tonight he didn't just want to dine with him, he wanted to take him home, bed him, drink from him. Foolish laws and morals of humans prevented him from doing it openly, directly, as he would have done with a woman. But it would be worth the wait , Eric knew as much from experience.
One last look into the mirror, then he left his apartment and started to walk towards the restaurant where they were supposed to meet. He was suddenly impatient, not willing to wait any longer than he had to.
He had time, so much time. He had already lived for decades, centuries, longer than any human would. But still, Eric wasn't usually a patient man. He preferred to get what he wanted whenever he wanted it, instant gratification. If necessary he took it, he had the power to do so.
But sometimes there was someone he didn't want to take, he wanted them to come to him. Then he was patient, waited, courted them. Eric had a lot of experience, knew exactly what men and women liked, could read their reactions, adjust his own actions accordingly. That was another advantage of having lived for so long, he'd had a lot of time to study people, to observe their reactions, to learn how to manipulate them.
He could have just glamoured whomever he wanted, but where was the fun in that? He didn't want to bed a mindless puppet, he wanted passion, real emotion. It smelled so good, made him want his partner even more , it was almost better than the scent of fear and pain when he killed someone. It might have surprised a lot of people who knew him, but most of his lovers survived, would even remember the night - apart from the blood sucking of cours e. He'd glamour them to forget about that, he couldn't have people run around who talked about vampires. Even if it wasn't likely that they would be believed, it was still better not to take any unnecessary risks.
Of course, he had to be subtle if he wanted to win someone as a lover, if he didn't want that person to realize that something was different about him. L ittle mistakes were easily covered up, made less obvious by a seemingly sincere apology. Tonight he would see if his patience would pay off, if he had wooed the man sufficiently.
They would have to be careful, subtle, if they didn't want anyone to spot that they were possibly more than just two business partners meeting for dinner, but wasn't the risk of discovery part of the fun?
He put a light smile on his face before he entered the restaurant where they were supposed to meet. Yes, there he was, waiting for Eric, smiling back at him. Eric took a deep breath when he approached the table, scented the air. Andrew smelled of soap, a hint of nervous sweat and the unmistakable musk of arousal, an intoxicating mix. Eric took a seat, let his hand brush the one of his soon to be lover under the table. The man's pupils widened. Yes, Eric was sure he wouldn't have to spend the night alone.
He licked his lips in anticipation, this one was definitely worth the wait.