For my vampire twin sister-in-writing Meesa (KradamKrazy) because she was feeling down and to all you vampire and Adommy lovers. Because each and every one of you rocks my fucked up world. Please enjoy and be warned for the smut. Love,
It's late at night and I can't sleep. I am not supposed to sleep either, so I just keep staring at my window. It's open, a silent invitation. The moon shines through, it's perfectly full and just as white as the curtains that blow around in the smog breeze. I hear the flow of the city beneath my apartment. It's warm tonight, I'm warm. Hints of sweat glow in the moonlight all over my body, even though I showered mere hours ago.
I'm waiting. Lying on my king-sized bed, the one of which my friends still haven't figured out why I bought it, soft black sheets pulled halfway up my chest. It's too warm for coverage, but I can't bare to move, I just keep staring at the window.
My muscles ache from the busy day I've had. Monte insisted on an extra hour of practise. I understand, we have an important performance coming up and we can't screw it up. My fingers felt numb when I finally put my beloved bass down and I can still feel the strings in my fingers, through the slight collusion.
But my soul aches more, can you say cheesy? It just aches for me to be close to him. My skin tingles, it wants the contact with his. Everything about me screams for him, because it knows he's near and at the same time shies away.
And still, through the fear and the aching, I lay here, motionless, waiting. Just waiting.
Somewhere along the line, I must've dozed off. Because I'm buried deeper in the pillows than I remember, the sheets now pooling around my waist. I hear something, or rather, I hear nothing. Every sound has died out. No dog dares to bark, feeling his presence. Even the wind has vanished completely, the curtains perfectly still. My chest rises and falls, drawing breath without making a sound. Anticipating.
Then, the curtains rise up, but I don't notice it, even though it shouldn't be possible without a breeze. A wave of cold creeps into the room and makes me shiver beneath the covers of my bed, for the first time tonight wishing I still had the thicker winter-covers. But I don't move and keep watching the large window.
Suddenly, within a blink, he's there. Standing right in the middle, his black coat waving around him. His form is dark, the moon shining onto him from behind, but still his pale-white skin stands out to his black clothes. I can see his inhuman blue eyes shimmering from where I lay.
My eyes, used to the dark, quickly and needingly see him clearer. His hair, as usual, sticks up in all imaginable directions. His lips are parted and I can see his teeth.
He's in all black, except for the silver chain around his neck.
"Adam." I breathe. It sounds scared, needing. I feel embarrassed of myself. Man up.
But he has an effect on me. I can't help it. My legs grow weak and my stomach makes all kind of acrobatic tricks when I feel his presence. His fucking intoxicating presence.
"Tommy." He whispers and finally walks forward. I involuntarily back away, further into the pillows, before I force myself to stand up. I'm only wearing a pair of blue, ripped and slightly too loose jeans. It falls over my feet, the zoom already torn from the countess times I stepped on it.
His image is frozen. He just stares at me and I stare right back, even though tremors run up and down my spine.
His pale skin seems even whiter in the moonlight. The rest of my room completely dark. Everything's dark. Except for the moon, the patch it throws on the floor and his face.
Hesitantly, I walk closer. He just keeps on looking. His eyes roam my face. It's the only part that moves.
When I am barely an inch away from him, I stop and for a few seconds we just stand there, breathing. Or rather, I breathe, he just watches. He doesn't need breath.
Again I shudder and in a snap decision take a step closer and wrap my arms around his waist, his arms automatically wrapping themselves around my shoulders.
He is unearthly cold. I feel my teeth start to clatter. I look up and see that he is looking down. His hand is now softly stroking my hair, almost lovingly.
It is as if we lunge for each other, when suddenly our lips crash together. He is stronger, taller and immediately changes his position to hover over me. My lips folding themselves around his.
His ice-cold hands run up my sides, I tremble in his hold. They run over my abs, making me gasp and then, they grace my exposed nipples. Instantly making them sensitive and hard.
When I sigh, he slips his tongue into my mouth, carefully. I don't fight him. I know I'd never be able to win that fight for dominance, though my hands courageously push his coat of his shoulders, after which they impatiently tug at the hem of his shirt.
His mouth is rough on mine now. Making me gasp for unwanted, though needed oxygen every time he changes angles and sends different kinds of pleasure shots through my veins. I forget the cold when his fingers heat up my skin.
He pushes me backwards. I stumble until I fall down onto my bed, trying to pull him with me. But he stays standing.
I open my eyes and see him standing there at the foot of the humongous bed. Bare-chested, flawless, obviously dangerous, addicting and watching me with an undefined look in his eyes.
I know I couldn't escape if I wanted, he'd be too fast, to strong. But I also know I couldn't flee if I wanted. I'm too addicted. Addicted to him, this man.
I strike the longer part of my hair out of my face. Trying to look back challengingly, trying to look brave. Slowly, I slide back to the headboard and rest into the pillows once again. My eyes still locked with his. My lips bruised, my mind screaming with fear, my heart aching with desire.
He whispers. "Beautiful. Delicious." Before he falls forward and crawls up to where I lay. He hovers over me and once again I feel the slight discomfort of this change. I'm the smaller, the weaker, the submissive now.
He proves it, as he once again connects our lips harshly making me moan low in my throat. Hungry, greedy now. These touches, these kisses, they're still so foreign. My back arches when he pinches my nipples and at the same time lowers his lips to suck at my neck. For a second, I fear, but I know it's still to early. His kisses, the licks of his tongue and the occasional sucking lowers, to my shoulders and collar bone, to my chest. He swirls his ice-cold tongue around my nipple and once again I arch into him. Pleasure pulsing through my whole body. His long pale fingers open the loose jeans with skilled precision and pull them down my legs. I ache for him and I know it. But he does now too and a furious blush spreads over my cheeks. He smirks at me, exposing his shimmering white and extremely sharp teeth. His black hair falls into his face and his icy breath hits my lower abdomen. Then, my black boxers are gone to and I lay fully exposed in front of him. He once again comes up, his fingers trailing over my length for a second, making me hiss in both pleasure and because of his freezing fingers. He kisses me again, violently thrusting his tongue into my mouth, licking the insides of it. Trailing over my teeth. His hands still roaming my body and pushing all the buttons he can find. I arch my pelvis into him and I feel him now too. I almost can't take the pleasure and my clumsily fingers fumble with his leather pants.
He chuckles. The sound is both an urge to laugh to and at the same time a frightening sound. His own fingers take over and he is equally exposed within seconds. Our skins meet, overheated and icy-cold. I wouldn't be surprised if there had been steam.
One of his hands is now around my waist, holding me up in an everlasting arch while his mouth works mine and the other hand is curled around me. Stroking and pleasuring.
Everything becomes blurry. Hazy and I can't focus on anything but him. My hands desperately cling on his shoulders as I pant and moan. He seems to swallow them.
they only become audible and louder when his lips shift to my neck once again, finding the pulse-point expertly and sucking. Hard. He will leave a mark and it will force me to once again wear a scarf. But the thought and slight irritation are immediately forgotten as another wave of pleasure ripples through me. His slender digits, two of them to be exact, have entered me. Slightly scissoring, because it isn't his main intension to hurt me. His position changes once again, he is now directly above me, rather then slightly to the side and inbetween my parted legs. The slender legs that don't seem to be mine wrap themselves around his waist and I once again moan in pleasure when he kisses down my jaw and neck, pulls his fingers out and back in again, deeper this time. I desperately start to cover his face with butterfly kisses, not caring that my lips must become blue. Then, he crashes our lips together once again, possessively. "You're mine." He whispers, pulling away for mere seconds when I need to gasp for breath and moan at the same time when he strokes me once again harshly. His raven hair throwing shadows over his face. "all mine."
Then, with a smooth movement of his hips, he is inside of me and my eyes widen at the intrusion. I don't feel the pain that is supposed to be there, I only feel pleasure coursing up and down my spine as I scream his name. Scream that I am his. I arch and moan and writhe underneath him as he, let's bluntly put it that way, fucks me into oblivion. To the point where I forget my own name and can only breathlessly moan his. He precisely finds that spot within me that makes my eyes roll back, my hips roll into him without me having any control over the matter. He is completely in control.
His lips are at my neck again and without warning, though I should've expected it, he bares his teeth, fully exposes his fangs and sinks them into my throat. I scream, but not because of the pain. But because of the masochistic feeling of complete bliss that it gives me. He sucks, he draws the blood from my neck, yes, he drinks my blood. For he is a vampire. A flawless, ice-cold, gorgeously dangerous and blood-dependant vampire.
And I love him with all I have and he knows it. So he returns and takes everything I have, because I give him all that I have.
For the first time that night he moans at the taste of my blood. His movements become harder, more erratic. He laps the blood from my neck and groans as I roll my hips into his again. He hits my spot time after time and at the same time pleasures me with his hands, twitching and pinching my nipples and moving the other hand in time with his thrusts. His teeth still sunk into my neck, sucking. The pleasure is unbearable and with a last howl of "Adam!" I feel all the muscles in my body tighten. My nails dig into the skin of his back, my legs pull him in deeper as I also convulse around him. I feel him come inside me, intensifying my pleasure. His mouth finally leaves my neck. "Tommy…" he whispers sensually, kissing all over my face. Licking the tears that spill from my eyes off my cheeks. He lowers himself down on me, staring into my hazed and exhausted eyes. I lay completely limp beneath him. My mouth open in tired pants. His breath hasn't even hitched and he now licks, basically the only other body fluid I have left, off his fingers.
"You're so delicious." He mutters, more to himself then to me, who is barely able to hear him.
He smiles and with a last lick closes the bite-marks on my neck. I know I will have another pair of scars to hide, but I don't care. I only care for the waves of love and sleep that course through me as I steal another kiss from his lips.
He rolls off me and pulls me with, my body is draped on top of him and he lets me rest my head on his chest. Still as flawless as ever. I am not cold, even though he is. A warm cover of nothingness, or is it love? Covers me completely.
"Sleep, my love." He whispers, stroking my hair with one hand, the other beneath his head.
Almost immediately, I loose myself in the darkness, even if I don't want to, even if I want to preserve more of the time with him, because I know.. He'll…
I wake up to sunlight trailing over my face. There is a warm pith of fluff in my lower stomach, my head snuggled into my pillow. My body sprawled out beneath the sheets. For seconds, I feel completely perfect at ease and like nothing in the world can ever see, hurt or touch me again.
My eyes flutter open and I realise the pillow I lay on is wrong and the temperature of the sheets is too hot. I feel around and everything I feel is the silk of the sheets.
He's gone. He left again.
I sit up and look around my room, able to actually see things in the light of the day. The grey walls, the posters of my favourite bands, photos of me and my friends and family. My guitar and bass. The piles and piles of CD's and the white carpet with here and there some clothes and boots. My laptop lies silently on my desk, along with a few books and music sheets. The bag with a small amount of make-up on top of it. Some drawers in my closet are open, like I left them last night and my chair is still turned towards the bed.
But mostly I see the window, still open, the curtains softly moving in the breeze. Like nothing ever happened.
I feel a tear trail over my cheek as I pull up my legs and rest my arms on them. He is gone, as always. Disappeared before the sun rises. He will be back, but for now. He has left me, again. He will never know how much he means to me, how much I love him. Because we have had our nights in which we talked, in which he got to know me, since he won't let me get to know him. He will never know how much I want to know him.
I turn around and curl back up beneath the sheets, drawing them closer and around me. Still feeling his cold embrace.
I don't see the pair of electric blue eyes staring at me, longingly.