~Salem here. I've always been fond of Alexander and Claude, and I love Vampire Kisses. This is a song fic, based upon the song "Slow Poison" by the Bravery. It contains yaoi, which is boy x boy, so if you don't like it, I don't understand why you'd read it. This also contains explicit content as follows: sex, gore, and language (the worst, in my opinion, being the word fags. I don't ever say it, and I barely ever ever write it unless the character absolutely calls for it. And Kat's a bitch. So I can picture her saying it. Just know that I hate that word). I shall try to keep the people as in character as possible. Thank you for reading.

Chapter One

I'm so sick and tired

I can still remember your sound

It's cut cut cutting me

Down I'm locked and loaded

You're so milk and roses Like slow poison

Cut down, like slow poison

I opened my bedroom door to see my gaunt butler, Jameson, standing there, a small vase holding three red roses in his hands. I sighed heavily, pushing my thick black hair behind my ear.

"Another one?" I said, taking it from him. Instead of water, the vase was half-filled with milk. To my extra sensitive nose, it was already beginning to smell rather rank. Jameson simply gazed at me with bulging eyes.

"I am sorry, young master, but I can't allow them to gather upon the doorstep. Have you no idea who's sending them?" He replied in his thick Romanian accent.

"No, Raven's already denied sending them, and has been pretty miffed about me getting them, " I said, laughing slightly. Turning to my dresser, I set the vase down. It would brighten my gloomy room until I either couldn't stand the sight or the stale stench of milk anymore. "Thank you, Jameson. I'm going out for a while. I'll be back before sunrise."

The butler understood the dismissal and left, closing my door quietly. I sat on the edge of my "bed", the red-sheeted mattress laid carelessly upon the floor that I used for show. My real bed, a black coffin, was stashed safely away from prying eyes.

I stared at the flowers, confused. No one cared for me that much, save for Raven. Luna might, as a way to play with my mind, but she had been occupied as of late, and I was nearly positive she didn't have the time to play games. I tried to think of all the girls I had met that said they had liked me. There was quite the number that had accumulated over the years, but I hadn't kept in touch. Kat? Maybe. She and I had had a fling…that hadn't lasted more than a few days, but a fling nonetheless.

I sighed again, letting myself fall onto the "bed", staring at a ceiling full of shadows and moonlight.

Kat hung out with Claude, whom I hadn't talked to since we were fourteen. He was a nasty, mean, angry sort of person, perfect for Kat, who had more claws than her namesake. Last I knew, they were together, but that could have changed. Claude didn't strike me as the faithful type. I suppose…I could call…assuming he had kept his phone number…

I sat up suddenly, reaching over and picking up the house phone. I dialed what I hoped was still his number.

The ringing was loud and obnoxious as I waited for him to pick up, growing less and less courageous as they grew in number. I was almost about to hang up when it connected.

"Hello?" Came an extremely annoyed voice, music pumping in the background. It was Claude alright; I'd know that voice anywhere.

"Hello...Claude..." I said, faltering. I didn't have much of a plan. Spontaneity wasn't my forte, but Raven's, because I sucked at doing things on the fly.

"Alexander? Daammmn. To what do I owe the honor?" He cackled, his voice mocking and superior. I frowned, remembering just how much I hated him.

"You don't. Can I speak to Kat?" I asked, knowing she'd be around. She followed him and his little posse like a lost puppy...or kitten. I played with a loose string on my sheets, pulling at it until it made a small hole in the fabric. Claude hummed thoughtfully on the other side.

"Huh. I dunno. Can you?" He teased, and I heard laughter in the background. Of course they'd all be listening. Just because they were half what I was didn't mean it compromised their senses any.

"Claude..." I warned, and I heard more laughter.

"Yeah, sure, keep your fangs on, she's right here," he said, a grin in his voice. There was some mumbling and what sounded like someone dropping the phone, and Kat came on.

"Yeah?" She popped her gum, her voice sounding just like it had the last time I saw her. Mean, catty, and bored.

"Have you been sending me flowers?" I decided it was best to just say it outright, instead of shirking the question. It was going to be awkward either way. Kat snorted and I heard laughter a third time, but louder now.

"Why'd I do that? Think you're special or somethin'?" She sneered. "That's what you got a bitch for. I don't bother with fags like you."

Cue dial tone. I stared at the phone for a minute, before placing it back in its home. I just remembered how much I hated her too. At least that cleared that up. It did not, however, remedy my situation.

I rose to my feet and walked downstairs, not bothering with shoes as I left the safety of the Mansion for the quiet nighttime outdoors. The air was cool and refreshing against my pallid skin as I made my way over to the cemetery. I vaulted easily over the metal gates and wound around new and old gravestones until I got to my grandmother's marker. I sat on the grass in front of it, laying down on my back and staring at the starry sky.

Dullsville didn't have much light pollution, and the cemetery was far enough away that what little it had didn't affect the sky, so the stars spilled like white glitter across black construction paper. The grass was damp from night dew, but I didn't mind. I inhaled, all of the scents of nature and weather filling my sense. It was so very peaceful.

I closed my eyes, picturing the roses in the milk as I ran through all the girls I knew who could have sent them. It wasn't anyone far away, because the flowers were always alive and the milk always fresh. There wasn't anyone crazy enough to travel all this way to give me flowers, and if it wasn't Raven then the next liable answer was another girl in Dullsville. Which was almost one hundred percent unlikely, as seeing I was viewed as an eyesore and a freak here.

I thought back randomly to what Kat had called me on the phone. For a split second, I wondered if I was thinking of the wrong sort of people. As soon as I thought that, though, I shook it away. In this town, if you weren't as straight as a level and a ruler and a line all combined, they'd have you run out of town faster than you could say homo. So, that was ruled out as well. I opened my eyes and exhaled in frustration. This sucked. It was all just too weird for me.

"What do you think, Grandmother?" I said out loud, not expecting an answer, and quite obviously getting none. I wondered what she would say if she were standing here now. She'd probably tell me not to worry, and that if someone admired me enough to send me flowers, then I should feel lucky. I sighed and combed my fingers through my hair, pulling it out of my face. I stared up at the inky sky, and drifted off carelessly into a cozy sleep.

I'm comfortable and warm, here in my coffin. The bedding is soft and smooth against my bare torso, and I snuggle in, holding onto my dreams. I hear something, though, like footsteps on carpet, and sit up, confused. My room didn't have carpet...

I was dreaming. The realization hit me, and pushed me out of first person view. Suddenly I was watching the scene from above, a thirteen year old me glancing over absently before returning his attention to whomever had made the sound.

Thirteen year old Claude was leaning over the side of my coffin, a wicked, knowing smile on his face. I felt a rush as I realized that not only was I dreaming, but reliving a memory. One memory that I wish I didn't have.

"Hey, Al. I gotta problem," Claude said deviously, his fangs glinting from the moonlight coming in from the window. I cringed, already knowing what was coming for confused, pubescent me.

"What's wrong, Claude? Did you have a bad dream?"

Ah, I had always been so nice, so polite. Grandmother sometimes told me that I was too polite for my own good, that my selflessness was going to get me into trouble one day. This incident being one of those days. I had since become more selfish, however, due to meeting Raven. I kept the manners, though.

"Mmm, I wouldn't call it bad. It was definitely interesting," he replied, and I wanted so desperately to shout out to myself that I should just tell him to kiss off and go back to his coffin, but I couldn't speak. It was annoying, to say the least.

"Well, what was it about? Then maybe I can help you," tween me said, oh-so-kindly. 'Oh, you're going to help him alright...' I thought bitterly, unable to avert my eyes to what was going to happen next. Claude climbed into my coffin, mischief written all over his face, mixed in with a lustful hunger. Apparently tween me hadn't noticed the rather obvious erection in his pants.

"I was sleeping, right? And suddenly I feel someone standing over me, and I opened my eyes to see you there, Al," he began, and I flushed to think of what was next. "You climbed into my coffin and leaned over me, just like this."

Claude got on top of tween me, his hands on either side of my head, pinning me there. Tween me had the most confused look, and I felt my stomach start to squirm.

"Then you kissed me, and it felt real nice...just like this..." Claude murmured, and pressed his lips to mine hotly. From where I was, I could still feel his lips on mine, warm and slightly chapped. Claude pulled away, chuckling darkly at the blush that had darkened my face. Tween me couldn't speak, only stutter as I tried to make sense of what just happened to my poor thirteen year old lip virginity. My cousin started to place soft kisses down my chest and stomach, which had yet to become muscular.

"You were doing such awesome things, Al...it's really hard to explain..." he pouted, and licked one of my hipbones. Tween me gasped and fidgeted, still trying to figure out what was going on. Claude's fingers rested on either side of my pajama pants, tapping gently.

"Claude, what...?"

He cut me off, slipping his hands underneath the striped fabric, his fingers light and tingly against my thighs. I could feel that, too, as real as night.

"D'you think...maybe...I could show you?" He purred, before sliding my pants down around my knees. Tween me finally started putting up a fight, trying to move away. Claude grabbed my sides and pulled me back, silencing any protests with another blush-worthy kiss. I put my hands on his shoulders meaning to push him away, but weakened when he reached down and started to slowly stroke my dick. I glared down at him, angry at how he was using my innocence for his own gain. His cousin, too, no less. He had some serious issues.

Unfortunately, tween me was losing quickly in the dominance area as Claude played with me mercilessly. Gasps were puffing from my mouth one right after the other as he stroked and pulled and squeezed, alternating between using a few fingers on the head to his whole hand on the shaft. It took a bit, but I was soon as hard as Claude was. I could see my own fangs flashing in the moonlight, catch the dark blush on my cheeks as he attacked my neck. He licked and sucked, but never bit, but I could feel the sharp points of his fangs tickle the sensitive skin there like he wanted to bite me. The gasps were quickly turning into small moans and desperate, confused whimpers. Claude made his way back down my torso, facing my erection boldly. It wasn't impressive, by any means, because I had just hit that stage of my life, but Claude didn't seem to mind as he licked the tip experimentally, causing a tiny whine to escape my throat. He licked it again, this time using all of his tongue, going from base to head slowly. My hips thrust up involuntarily, and Claude grinned evilly before taking almost all of it into his mouth.

I had my fist shoved in my mouth to stop the moans from being too audible. Tween me did not want to get caught like this by Grandmother. Hell, I still wouldn't want to be caught like that. By anyone. Especially with my cousin. Claude bobbed up and down, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, but it all felt too damn good for what it was. He removed his mouth, hovering over my pulsing dick, using his hand to jerk me off as he caught his breath. I saw blood run down the side of the fist in my mouth; my fang had nicked it, I was holding it there so tightly. My eyes were closed, and my other hand was gripping my sheets with white knuckles. I also saw his focus zoom in on this stream of blood, and a new hunger fixated itself in his eyes.

"Hey Al...how d'you like my dream so far?" He said, laughing and still slightly out of breath. He reached up with his free hand as my hips started to buck uncontrollably, and wiped up the trickle of red life liquid. He tasted it, and moaned low in his throat, a more mocking sound rather than lustful. He went back to suckling on my dick, and with a much too loud yell, tween me came in Claude's mouth. His eyes flickered up to where I was watching, smiling around my dick as he swallowed.

I jolted awake with a shout, twitching once as I made a huge mess of my pants. I kept my eyes squinted shut as I tried to will away what just happened. I suddenly realized (much to my relief) that I was no longer in the cemetery, and in my coffin. Jameson must have gotten worried and brought me home. I took a deep, shuddering breath, the aftershocks of orgasm still shaking their way through me. My thoughts were fuzzy, but I felt my face burning up in embarrassment.

'I seriously just had a wet dream about my cousin...' I thought, somewhat defeatedly. 'Except, all of that actually happened at one point...'

I felt a bit sick, and finally opened my eyes. I would be doing the laundry for this one, definitely. Sitting up, I ran my hands through my hair shakily, wincing at the stickiness on my legs. This was uncomfortable. I climbed wearily out of my coffin, peeking around the door to see if it was safe to go into my mock room. I didn't see much light, so I opened the door to very late evening. I skirted a stray sunbeam on the floor and yanked open my dresser drawers, pulling out the first clothes I saw and taking them to the bathroom. Stripping out of my gross ones, I got in the shower, relaxing against the wall as I ignored how long it was going to take for the water to warm up.

I needed a cold shower about now.

So, there ye go. I haven't ever written any sort of sex before, so that was definitely an interesting experience . I feel so naughty. But, that's alright, because I feel naughtier when I read it :D I hope you enjoyed it, I apologize for this taking so long to update. I haven't had much luck on writing lately. I'll get the next chappie up as soon as possible. What's hilarious, is this is a songfic for Slow Poison...yet I haven't listened to that song once during the writing of this thing. :D I actually listened to "Catholic Pagan" by Surfer Blood on repeat. Great song.