Another submission to the fantasy even on the LJ comm that I never posted here on . Pretty poetry heavy, especially Maya Angelou.
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Alfred rubbed his hands together and put them back out over the fire he'd lit in a trash can. It was a cold night and he needed some way to stay warm. The tattered clothes and multiple threadbare jackets weren't quite doing the job. He sneezed into the elbow of his jacket, wiping his nose on the sleeve. It was uber fucking disgusting, but it wasn't like he could go into the bathroom and get toilet paper. And he definitely didn't have any tissues lying around.
Alfred was homeless, living in an alley behind a fast food joint that sometimes let him have free food. If they didn't he could just dig through their trash and get some anyway, so win for him either way. Deep inside his soul he was still sick every time he had to eat out of the trash, but you did what you had to in order to survive out here. But there were days when it all got too much and he almost wished he'd stayed. When the rain was pouring down and he had a high fever, or when he was throwing up because he ate rotten food out of the garbage. But even those times were better than when he would think back and remember what happened...
But he wouldn't think about that, not now. The night had already been a disaster. He hadn't been able to find any food (dumpster or otherwise), he'd found a blanket only to have it stolen by some schizophrenic jackass who kept screaming about how "they" told him he needed the blanket or the aliens would come for him again, and as the sun set and the temperature dropped he'd found that he hadn't prepared for the coming winter nearly as well as he'd thought.
He tried to keep chipper, reminding himself that there were so many ways that this could be worse. It could be snowing or raining. He could be like those poor guys who were out here because they had mental illnesses and thought that the government was watching and they couldn't trust anyone. He could live in a place or time where the homeless were jailed or killed. He could be right back where he came from...
But like he said, he wasn't going to think of that.
He cupped his hands in front of his face, blowing on them to keep them warm. He was starting to lose feeling in his fingers and ears, and that was never a good sign. He'd tried to find a pair of gloves after the ones he had before had fallen apart. Quite literally, actually. It was kind of funny to watch when you got past the part about them being the only things keeping him from frostbite. They'd become so threadbare that they'd unraveled right on his hands.
He looked over his shoulder, not wanting someone to sneak up on him in the night. He had a fire on a cold night and lived in a pretty good alley. The restaurant kept it clean and everything. He'd seen people on the streets kill for less. It never hurt to be careful and there was no such thing as too cautious. He hadn't lasted out here so long on his good looks. Well…mostly not on his good looks. You used every advantage you got.
Just as he was about to turn back to the fire, he spotted a car creep up to the entrance to the alleyway. And not just any car, a limo! He started backing up towards the fence separating him from the other end, not knowing if the person in the limo was friend or foe. He expected them to just keep creeping on past. Rich guys like that didn't come up to guys like him unless they wanted drugs, sex, or to kick the crap out of you.
But the car did indeed stop. Alfred kept backing up, planning to make a dash for it the second whoever stepped out of the car made any indication of wanting to kick his ass. But as the door swung open and a tall figure obscured by the shadow stepped out, all thought fled from his mind and he stood there, unable to move. Something about the man just commanded him to stay. And who was he to deny him?
The man strode forward, still obscured by the night. But as he reached out his hand to the boy, it was lit by moonlight. Immaculate white gloves and a fine black sleeve were all Alfred could see of the man except his eyes. They seemed to glow somehow, the violet pupils shining through the shadow and piercing him. He couldn't look away from those eyes. It was as if he was hypnotized by them, caught in a spell.
"What is a young man so beautiful doing here? You should be treated like a prince with the finest clothes and delicacies." He purred, taking Alfred's hand in his gloved one and raising it to his lips. Alfred blushed and his heart sped up. This guy was a charmer, alright. But why was he talking to him like this? He wasn't anything special. This guy was rich, even if the darkness was hiding some grotesque deformity the money would be enough to buy him love.
"I...I don't have anywhere else to go, sir." He stammered, noticing that he still hadn't released Alfred's hand. It made him warm a bit, his cheeks especially, but the hand felt cold beneath the glove. It was so strange. But his head emptied as the mysterious stranger began to speak again. Something about his voice made it hard to think.
"I have a place where you may eat and sleep. Come with me, my dear, and you will have everything you could ever desire." He told him. Alfred's imagination started painting a picture of warm beds, hot meals, books to read, a TV to watch, a shower, real clothes. It was all so tempting, everything he wanted. And it was being laid here before him by this man whom he barely knew. Could he just go off with some man he knew nothing about just for a warm place to sleep?
"Get in the car, my beauty." He was prompted again by that silken voice. Yes, yes he could definitely go off with some man he knew nothing about just for a warm place to sleep.
He inched tentatively towards the car, stepping into the shadows and walking past the man. He nodded his head and Alfred stepped more boldly, climbing into the back seat of the limo and settling down near the opposite door. The inside of the limo had dark black walls and was well-lit with seats arranged in a semi-circle, all covered in red velvet upholstery. It was possibly the most posh thing Alfred had seen ever.
He expected the mysterious man to climb into the limo after him. But the door shut suddenly, startling Alfred. As the car began to pull back out onto the street, Alfred turned around to look out of the back window to see what the man was going to do. But the street was completely empty, as if he'd vanished into thin air.
Curiouser and Curiouser.
They drove for what seemed to Alfred like a half an hour, passing towering sky scrapers and fancy shops. They drove through the center of the city; passing through to the outskirts, out of the suburbs, and into the countryside. They turned onto a dirt road, travelling on long after Alfred lost sight of the road. They turned once more onto a winding lane leading up through wrought iron gates and pulled around a circular drive to a stately manor situated in the midst of sprawling, well groomed grounds.
Alfred stared at the house with wide eyes, unable to believe that this was the place he was being taken to. They were going to stash him in some shed or something, right? There was no way a kid like him was going to stay in digs like this. Even if the mysterious man who'd picked him up was crazy rich, he wasn't going to let some kid off the streets dirty up his home. People just didn't do shit like that.
The driver got out of the car, rounding the hood and opening the door for Alfred. He looked down his nose at the boy with red eyes that seemed to glow in the same way his secretive patron's did. The snowy white hair and red eyes kind of freaked Alfred out, it wasn't something you saw every day. He felt kind of bad about being freaked out, but it was an involuntary reaction. So sue him!
"Get out of the car." He commanded him. The same fog that had come over him when the owner of the manor filled his head, making it hard to think or disobey. He got out of the car wordlessly, staring up at the man passively. What was it about these people that filled his head with fog? It was uncanny, like something in their voices was commanding him.
The driver walked off towards the house, not even looking back at Alfred. The boy trailed after him, not seeing much other choice. It was either follow the creepy albino dude or sleep in the car. Though sleeping in the car was quite a sight better than sleeping on the street. So he didn't say anything as they approached the house. He expected the driver to just go in without holding the door for him, he'd been rude so far after all. But he was okay with that, he wasn't the type of person people were nice to.
But instead, the door swung open before they'd even reached it. A nervous looking brunette man in a butler's uniform stood there, smiling timidly at the both of them. Alfred smiled back, glad to have someone who wasn't going to look at him like he was scum to communicate with.
"Hello, young man. My name is Toris, I'm the master's manservant. I trust you had a pleasant ride here?" He brunette asked, fiddling with his gloves. He should really learn to relax, it wasn't like there was anything to worry about, right?
Alfred looked over his shoulder to check, just in case. But the only one there was the driver, who was glaring at Toris like he'd done something wrong. The manservant started shaking, backing away from the driver a bit. Alfred turned around and glared at the albino, warning him to back off. He might not be much to look at, but he was tough. And it certainly helped that he had a knife tucked in his pocket.
He looked back to Toris, smiling brightly and trying to reassure him. "Oh yeah, besides this guy it was all great!" He said, holding his hand out to shake. "My name's-" But he was cut off as Toris nodded and shook his hand.
"Alfred, I know. The master has informed me of everything. We have a room prepared for you with a bath drawn and fresh clothes lain out. If you'll come with me, please?" He requested pleasantly, turning on his heel and heading towards the grand staircase in the middle of the polished foyer. Toris, unlike Gilbert, actually looked back to see if Alfred was following.
Alfred looked up at Toris and nodded, following after him. There was something different about Toris' eyes, something he couldn't place. Not different like the driver's or the man's in the alley, something different from that kind of different. As Toris led him down one hallway after another he mulled over it, trying to think of just what it was that was weird.
The house was massive! Every time they rounded a corner, Alfred got a little bit more lost. Who the hell was this guy and what did he do to get up the money to build a place like this? More importantly, how had Toris known his name when he'd never even so much as mentioned it to his mysterious patron?
"So, Toris…what's up with the driver guy?" He asked, jerking his head back in the direction they'd come. They'd turned so many corners that it was hard to tell if he was gesturing in the right direction, but he was sure Toris got the point.
"Oh, Gilbert? Don't mind him, he has a bad attitude. He's probably angry because the master brought you here. He doesn't like having visitors in the house. Not that you're a visitor anymore. The master has decided that you should stay here as long as you please." Toris said, trying to seem cheerful. But there was a nervous undertone that worried Alfred. But who knew, maybe that was just how the guy was?
"I guess…hey, speaking of the "master" or whatever, why did he bring me here? What does he want? Who is he? He's not going to try and buy sex from me, is he? Cause I'm no hooker, I'm a good boy." He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.
"No, no, nothing like that, I assure you. Think of the master as your own personal guardian angel. He's a bit like the Patron Saint of Street Kids." Toris laughed quietly. He wasn't a very loud man, was he? Alfred was okay with that, though. He could make enough noise for the both of them. He'd always been told he had a big mouth.
Finally they rounded one last corner, coming to a short hallway with only two rooms. Toris opened one of them and ushered Alfred in. As he closed the door behind him it clicked and he suddenly knew what was different about Toris.
His eyes were completely normal.
Ever since that limo had pulled up to his alley, the only people he'd spoken to had those weird, glowing eyes. But Toris' were absolutely ordinary. They didn't glow, they weren't eerie and piercing, they weren't even a weird color.
Curiouser and Curiouser.
Well, he was here now and there wasn't much else he could do. Besides, why would he leave when he had a bed, a bath, and possibly food? There was everything here someone needed to survive and he really didn't want to go back and…
Who was he kidding? He just wanted to stay to figure out what was going on.
He looked around the room, eyes bugging out as he took in the luxury. Satin sheets, velvet bed curtains, a plush carpet, and an armchair that looked fucking comfortable. He could probably sleep in that if he needed to. Hell, he could probably sleep comfortably on the damn carpet.
There were only two doors in the room besides the one he'd come in through. He pulled open the first one to find a fuckingwalk in closet, homigod. It was stocked with all kinds of clothes just Alfred's size. It was like they'd picked them out just for him, despite the fact that they'd just picked him up. And some of these were designer!
He put the clothes back in the closet, overwhelmed by everything around him. There were clothes on the bed, too. Navy silk pajamas laid out for him, probably by Toris. He turned away from them, leaving them for later.
He pulled open the second door, revealing a glittering white bathroom. It was pristine, as if no one had ever used it before. But the house probably had a whole team of maids scrubbing down every surface until it shone. But still! The bathroom was almost prettier than the bedroom! And, just as Toris had said, there was already water in the tub for him.
Alfred almost cried in that moment. He didn't know when the last time he'd had a bath was. It had been months, maybe a year since he'd really been clean and in some ways that was what he missed most about having a home.
He stripped down without hesitation, scrambling into the bath and sinking down into the warm water with a sigh. It chased away the last of the cold from his bones and eased away all the tension in his muscles. It was like a little slice of heaven, for realz.
The water quickly turned murky as the layers of dirt and grime washed away from his skin. He emptied the tub and filled it back up, grabbing the soap and scrubbing until he was raw and red and washed his hair until it gleamed gold. One more time he emptied and refilled it, basking in the clean, warm water. He never wanted to fucking leave this awesome fucking tub.
But he eventually had to get out when his fingers started to prune. He sighed and lifted himself up, grabbing a soft, pure white towel and wrapping it around his waist. He took another one and draped it over his head, drying and fluffing up his hair as he exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam.
He pushed the towel off of his head, shaking his hair dry as he draped the towel over his shoulders. He moved towards the bed, reaching for the pajamas so that he could dress. But before his fingers could even touch the fabric, a voice came from the shadows at the corner of the room.
"You look even prettier when you are clean, my pet." The voice of the man he'd met in the alley came out of the darkness. Sure enough, he could see the outline of a man in the shadows as well as those gleaming purple eyes.
Alfred squeaked and swiped the towel off of his shoulders, clutching it to his chest to cover himself. How dare this fucktard come in here when he was undressed!? And when he saw that he'd just gotten out of the shower, why didn't he just leave? And on top of it all, he called him pretty. Pretty! Who goes around telling half naked guys that they're pretty!?
"What the hell are you doing in here, man!? Can't you see I'm trying to get dressed!?" He growled, pointing towards the door and stamping his foot like a petulant child. "Out! Outoutout!" He cried.
"But Alfred, this is my house." He reminded him, smirking. There was something creepy about that smirk, like the way his teeth seemed to glow despite the darkness just like his eyes did or how the canines seemed just a little too pointed. And how did he know his name? How did any of them know his name?
"I don't care if you're God Almighty himself, you don't peek in on people when they're trying to change! Have you no decency!?" He hissed, stepping towards him to shoo him out of the room. But the man held his hand up to stop him.
"Ah, ah, ah. Do not come any closer, my pet. I don't know what I would do if such a ravishing creature like yourself came any closer. I might do something I'd regret." He purred. Once again, Alfred was powerless against the caress of that silky smooth voice. He was rooted to the spot, head empty and senses dulled.
"I just came in to check on you, katyonak. I am not here to molest you or peek in on you changing. If I wanted to do that, I have much more efficient ways." He chuckled, grasping Alfred's chin in his fingers and looking into empty blue eyes. So much more attractive when he was all there, it was such a pity.
"I have other places to be now that I know you have settled in. Toris will come to bring you down for breakfast in the morning. You will find that I will not often join you. I have elsewhere to be in the mornings. Similarly, do not expect to see Gilbert, my driver. Another man substitutes for him during the day. If you need to go anywhere, merely let Toris know. He will call the day driver. In fact, if you need anything it would be best to ask him. Now go change in the bathroom and I will be gone by the time you get out." The shadowed man commanded.
Alfred nodded dumbly and gathered up the pajamas from the bed, walking woodenly into the bathroom. Once he was there, the fog cleared instantly. Like it had never been there in the first place. He rushed out of the bathroom, meaning to give that rat bastard a piece of his mind, but he was already gone. He hadn't heard the door open or close and no footsteps, either. It was like the man had vanished.
Justifiably freaked out, Alfred went back into the bathroom and changed, looking over his shoulder every five seconds to make sure the man hadn't returned. The paranoia persisted past the bathroom and on till bedtime. As he crawled between the satin sheets, the fabric sliding across his skin, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was dreadfully wrong about this place and the people who lived here.
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Alfred was back there, the place he'd never thought he'd see again. The kids played outside while the neighbors waved and remarked to each other how great the parents were. They took in all of these foster kids and yet none of them ever stole anything and they were all straight A students. Even Alfred, who was sometimes mischievous and a jokester. But the whole neighborhood loved those kids like their own. They were so well-mannered, and they always offered to help out. Alfred watched sadly as his younger self, about 7 or 8, ran past him. The kid was laughing and playing like any other little boy. But Alfred knew the truth. Nothing was normal about that place, nothing. You could see it in the kids' eyes if you looked close enough. All of them kept the same secret, each and every one of them had seen things no child should see. Mattie chased after his younger self, causing a bolt of pain to shoot through his heart like a bullet. Mattie…kind, sweet little Mattie. Where was he now, Alfred wondered. He hoped that wherever he was, it was better than the hand they'd been dealt here. So many foster homes, so many places where nothing was as it seemed. Mattie, of all people, didn't deserve that. He was a good kid. Alfred saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head, only looking away from Mattie and himself for a moment. A pink and purple striped cat winked at him from the corner of the yard before disappearing. Alfred started to go after it, but he felt a tug on his sleeve. Mattie stood beside him, looking up at him. He smiled and kneeled down to talk to him, but as he came face to face with him, blood started to trickle down his face. Suddenly the scene dissolved into blood and thunder, the innocent laughter of the children making way for the crazed laughter of an adult as blood splattered all over the walls of Alfred's mind. Oh God, so much blood! Where was it all coming from? Was it his? Why, oh God. Why? Mattie! Mattie where are you!? Mattie? Mattie!
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Alfred awoke the next morning with the same sense of dread he'd gone to bed with last night. But God, this bed was comfortable! How could anyone stay mad in a bed like this? He burrowed back into the pillows, hoping to catch a few more Z's before Toris came to collect him.
But as he thought about breakfast and food and all the other wonderful perks of having a place to stay, his stomach protested his procrastination. Soon the gnawing hunger in the pit of his gut grew to be too much. He rolled out of bed, his body and mind seriously kicking him in the ass for getting up.
He crossed the bedroom to the door only to realize he had no idea where he was going. He had been too tired and confused to pay attention to the endless turns they'd made and staircases they'd climbed to get to the room. Without Toris he was completely lost in this maze of a mansion.
'Oh well,' He decided, closing the door and heading for the closet instead. 'I'll just get dressed and wait for Toris here.' He rifled through the clothing, still marveling at the feel of the fabric and the quality of the garments. No more threadbare jackets and stained t-shirts for him! He picked out a nice pair of jeans that seemed to hug his legs and ass a bit too well for his liking and a Green Day band tee. Had whoever had picked these out known his favorite band, or did they just assume because he was a teenager? It didn't really matter, clothes were clothes.
He began to pull his shirt over his head before he paused, looking around to check that the owner of the house hadn't dropped in to "check in on him." Even when the search came up empty, he still decided not to chance it, heading in to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. Now there was something he really enjoyed having back: a toothbrush. And whoever had bought it had even gotten a superman toothbrush and bubble gum toothpaste. This was turning out to be even more fucking awesome than he'd expected!
Alfred exited the bathroom feeling refreshed and ready for the day. The only problem was that Toris still wasn't there and he was pretty much stuck in the room. He sighed heavily and slumped down into the chair, gearing up for the long haul. He had a feeling he'd be waiting for a long time.
And, of course, as soon as he'd settled down Toris walked into the room. Go figure.
"Oh, Alfred, you're ready." Toris beamed, scurrying into the room. There was something different about the man, like he'd had a weight lifted off of his shoulders. In the light of the day he wasn't the same nervous person he was in the dead of night. He could understand that, really. Not everyone was at home in the dark. Maybe he still believed in things that went bump in the night.
"Yeah. I was going to go looking for you, but I didn't want to get lost." He admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. Maybe Toris could draw him a map later so he wouldn't have to show him around constantly until he got the hang of the place.
"Good idea, I'm sure the master would bury me alive if I let you get lost." Toris laughed nervously, looking over his shoulder as if expecting the man to be there. But they were alone in the room. But Alfred could understand the anxiety. That creep had a habit of turning up when you least expected him and least wanted him around. Especially if you were half naked and he wanted to hit on you.
"So…breakfast?" He asked, perking up hopefully. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he'd remembered exactly why Toris was there. He hadn't eaten in a few days and he was starving. He hoped there would be something good. Maybe bacon! Bacon made everything better.
"Yes, of course. Come with me." Toris said, turning and exiting the room. Alfred trailed after him, taking more care to remember the passages and stairways they took to get down to the dining room. He didn't want to get lost on his way back up to his room and he really didn't feel like bugging Toris every time he had to go somewhere.
"So, Toris, what's up with the guy who owns this place? Does he do this often, pick kids up off the street? I know you said he wasn't trying to buy sex, so what is it? And he's so weird! He hasn't told me his name or what he does, I haven't even seen his face! Is he like, horribly ugly or something? Because I don't see why else a rich, charming guy like that would be hitting on a street kid." He said, examining a painting as they passed it.
"Oh no, the master isn't ugly. He's actually rather attractive for a man." Toris assured him. "He's been hitting on you? That's odd…" He trailed off, seeming lost in thought. Alfred didn't like that look of worry that crossed the man's face at the news.
"Does he not usually hit on the people he brings in?" He asked warily, eyes narrowing. What kind of freak was this guy? He refused to believe that this guy was just taking him in out of the kindness of his heart.
"No, not usually. He just brings them in, helps them get their lives together, and sees them off." He told him. But there was something in his eyes, a kind of dodginess. Alfred wasn't sure that he really believed him. But what else was he going to say? He couldn't straight up call him out on it.
"Sees them off to what?" He asked, trying to sound mildly interested instead of suspicious. Apparently it didn't work, because Toris froze and looked around like a scared rabbit. He flashed Alfred a fake, forced smile.
"Oh, you know. Jobs, college, stuff like that." Toris laughed nervously. Alfred narrowed his eyes and pierced the meek man with a stare. But he didn't say anything, not just yet. Toris relaxed slightly and gestured lamely towards the dining room.
"You should eat now, the master doesn't like his guests to be too thin." He insisted. Alfred just nodded and followed him into the room. What was Toris hiding?
Curiouser and Curiouser.
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The day had passed relatively quickly after Alfred had some food in him. Lunch and Dinner had similarly come and gone and Alfred had been let free to roam the house. Toris had long since left him up to his own devices, confident that the streetwise boy could navigate his way back to his room when he felt like it.
At first he had insisted that Alfred let him accompany him. He'd been almost frantic, really. But Alfred eventually convinced him he was fine. Toris had given him this look. Like he was never going to see him again. It'd been super disturbing to say the least.
As he wandered down empty hallways, Alfred couldn't help feeling the pervading sense of malaise the place put off. It was one of those houses where you couldn't help looking over your shoulder no matter how well lit the room. And the feeling only got worse as he approached two large oak doors. Behind those doors was something Alfred wasn't sure he wanted to see. Or, at least that's what his superstitious mind was telling him.
But the curiosity got the better of him, it always did. He was like a cat, he could never resist the temptation to explore all the possibilities. It got him in trouble almost constantly and had even almost gotten him killed a few times. One day he would learn not to stick his nose into things, but today wasn't that day.
He pushed open the doors just enough to peek his head inside. He was greeted by shadowy darkness, the only light being cast from the fire roaring in the fireplace. A whole army of bookshelves held years of accumulated knowledge, humbling Alfred in a way only a place like this could. It reminded him of how little he really knew and how much more there was left to learn.
He stepped into the library, eyes scanning the shelves. He wasn't close enough to see the titles yet, but he was making his way over there. This might be a good way to spend his time. It wasn't like he'd encountered a TV or computer in his wanderings. But he didn't mind. Sometimes it was good to unplug and curl up with a good book. He was so absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't see something move in one of the chairs around the fireplace.
"So you have decided to join me, my pet?" Came the silken voice from the shadowed chair. Alfred should have known he'd be here. It had all his usual elements: not well lit, Alfred was off-guard, and they were completely alone. It was kind of dumb of him to come in here, in hindsight.
"I didn't know you were in here." He answered, beginning to back away towards the door. He didn't want this guy messing with his head again. It was just too freaky to be ordered around like that with no control. Alfred was a guy who loved his independence.
"Do not back away from me, katyonak. In fact, why don't you join me?" He asked, his voice dripping into Alfred's head like melted chocolate. Before he could even think to disobey and book it out of there, he was already sitting across from him, shaking the fog out of his head and wondering what had happened.
"Hey, what's the big idea! You can't just order me around like that! I'll-" His protests were brought to a halt as the man bluntly put one hand over his mouth. The man was still obscured by shadow, only the hand covering his mouth and the arm attached visible in the darkness.
"You are quite loud. You should speak more softly, or not at all. You are much more attractive with your mouth shut." He chuckled. In that moment Alfred wanted nothing more than to get up and leave the room, maybe smacking him upside the head as he went. But he'd taken him in off the street and no matter how rude or creepy he was being that had to count for something.
"Okay, creepy shadow man. What's your game?" He asked, leaning away from him to get the hand off of his mouth. "You bring me here with no warning, never show your face, and don't even tell me your name!"
"You never asked my name, kitten. All you had to do was ask." He teased, violet eyes snapping with amusement. Alfred huffed and glared at him. Where did this asshole get off? He oughta punch him in the gut right now and hightail it back to his alley. He'd probably be safer.
"Fine, then. What's your name?" He growled. He wasn't in the mood right now for sick freak's mind games.
"Ivan. My name is Ivan. Are you pleased now?" He laughed, leaning back in the chair. Alfred was definitely not pleased, not in the least. But he's take what he could get. And at least he had a name to put to the voice, if not a face.
"One more thing. Why did you bring me here?" He asked, eyes narrowing. There were just too many mysteries involved and Alfred wanted answers before he ended up at the bottom of the river or in an underground prostitution ring.
"What kind of literature do you like, Alfred?" He asked suddenly, ignoring the question completely. Alfred froze for a moment, giving him an 'are you kidding me?' look. But he decided to play along, figuring the man was more likely to divulge the information he wanted if he played around with his stupid little game. He sighed and thought for a moment.
"I really like Orwell's stuff. And Margaret Atwood, they write good stuff, I guess." He answered, looking back at the endless shelves of books as if they held the answers he sought. But the only one who could answer his questions was sitting opposite of him, regarding him as if he'd just seen him in a new light.
"How dark for one so bright." He remarked, examining the teenager in front of him critically. "It doesn't suit you. I took you as one that would prefer a storybook ending where everyone's dreams came true." Alfred scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"You seriously don't believe a kid that lives on the street can be into apocalyptic literature? The main ideas of the genre are stereotypical of my demographic: humans are horrible creatures, we fuck everything up, and eventually society's going to come to the point where we're all mindless drones of some totalitarian dictator. Sounds about right to me." He spat bitterly.
"So you have lost your faith in humanity?" He asked, crossing his legs and staring even harder at the boy across from him. Alfred could feel those intense eyes on him and it took everything he had not to squirm under his gaze.
"If I ever even had any. All I've ever seen is the worst side of people, so why believe they can change? My mom was literally a whore, I was bounced around from foster home to foster home, and now I'm a hobo. When's the last time you saw an optimistic bum?" He scoffed.
"Maybe you should try expressing yourself through poetry. Your eyes keep wandering to the books of verse." He observed with a smirk. Alfred glared at him, wishing he'd mind his own business. Bastard didn't need to tease him just because he was looking at the books.
"I've never really been fond of poetry. Except Maya Angelou, she's okay." He said, looking away again. There was no way he was going to meet those glowing eyes coming out of the darkness. They were just too creepy, and the sensual look in them made his blood run hot.
"Maya Angelou? You certainly have a more modern taste than I." Ivan chuckled. "But perhaps you can bring a breath of fresh air into my otherwise dusty repertoire? How, may I ask, does one in your position get so versed on Dystopian literature and American Poets?"
"Sometimes when it's raining or cold out, I go to the library for shelter. As long as I'm quiet and don't try to take any of the books, the librarians let me stay in there and read. Sometimes I even get to use the computer." Alfred answered, looking into the fire. He hoped the girls down at the library wouldn't assume he'd died when he didn't show up the next time it got cold.
"So there is more than just fluff in that pretty little head of yours?" He remarked, piercing him with that look again. "Tell me, Alfred. Do you know why the caged bird sings?"
"The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom."
Alfred quoted the poem, having long ago memorized it. It had struck a chord somewhere in him, touched his soul in some profound way. He knew very well why the caged bird sang, because he was singing the same song. He longed for freedom. Freedom from hunger, from cold, from the memories of his life.
"Let me know when you wish to stop singing and step out of your cage, little bird." Ivan said, emerging from the shadows as he stood up. Alfred had conjured up all these images in his mind of what the man could possibly look like, all of them grotesque despite Toris' reassurances that he wasn't ugly. But the proud, strong features framed by ashen hair was far, far more than he'd ever expected. This guy wasn't just "okay", he was gorgeous.
Alfred gawped at him as the taller man stood over him, a seductive smirk on his face. Alfred's heart didn't know whether to speed up or stop beating completely. His cheeks heated up and he sunk down into the chair like he was trying to tempt the Earth to swallow him whole.
He squeaked as Ivan took his hand and raised it to his lips, eyes burning holes into his. "Until next we meet, my little bird." He said before letting go of Alfred's hands and taking a few steps before seeming to vanish into the darkness once more.
Had that really just happened? Had the generous, charming, flirty guy who'd taken him in really turned out to be indescribably hot? This couldn't actually be happening, not to him. Prince Charming didn't just come right off the pages of a fairytale to sweep guys off their feet. Especially not these days.
He couldn't help but wonder if Ivan had another game he was playing with this. Alfred knew from experience that sometimes the most charming guys were the ones who went home to kick the crap out of anyone smaller than them. He'd have to be wary around this guy, that was for sure.
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Alfred was back again, wandering the halls of the place he'd left behind all that time ago. Only this time, it was deathly quiet now that there were no neighbors to look on. He followed the sound of quick, skittish footsteps and the occasional childish giggle, but he could never catch up with the shadows dancing across the walls wherever the children went. He rounded the corner, grasping for the shadows that slipped through his fingers like water. He stopped short at the door, looking in on the scene as if through a TV screen. The two little boys crouched under the table huddled together, shaking like leaves. The younger one whimpered as heavy boot steps thudded across the floor boards, the smell of whiskey hanging in the air. Out of the corner of his eye, Alfred saw a flash of color. He turned away from the boys for only a moment, tracking the movement instead. Another flash of pink and purple and Alfred forgets about the boys entirely. By the time the striped cat appeared all his attention was on it. He wondered at the cat, reaching out to touch it. But just as he held out is hand, he felt a tug at his sleeve. The cat winked and disappeared as he turned to look at whoever was tugging on his sleeve. "Why didn't you help me, Alfred?" He asked, looking up at him with a deadly calm. The blood dripped off of his face as Alfred backed away from the specter of his twin. He shook his head, heart freezing. "Mattie I tried! I tried to help! But there was just so much blood and I didn't know what to do. Oh God, please forgive me!" He sobbed as his back hit the wall, slumping down onto the floor and dissolving into tears. "You might as well have killed me, Alfred. This was all your fault!" The boy screamed, a look of inhuman rage crossing his face as objects in the room spin through the air like a tornado had blasted through. Alfred shook his head and hugged his knees to his chest. "No! I tried to help! I tried!" He cried. But Matthew couldn't be appeased. "It's your fault I'm dead!" He sent the spinning objects toward the cowering teenager, who curled up into a sobbing ball and waited to die, knowing that Matthew was right. It was his fault and he deserved to be punished. "It's your fault!" ….It's my fault.
As the boot steps grew closer and the smell of whiskey grew stronger, Matthew looked up at him. Bright red blood started trickling down his face. Only a few small trails first, but growing stronger and thicker until the boy's whole face is covered in a rain of the ghastly fluid.
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Alfred jumped awake, tear tracks down his cheeks. He looked around, breathing heavily with panicked eyes. As he realized where he was and what had happened, his breathing started to slow and he wiped away the tears. Just another nightmare, nothing more. Alfred could deal with that, he'd had worse. He held his head for a moment, willing the images to go away.
He dragged himself into the bathroom, splashing water in his face to brace himself. He refused to look his reflection in the eyes, not knowing what he would see there. He left the bathroom without a second glance. The last thing he needed to do right now was think about that night. No, what he really needed was a glass of water.
He trudged down to the kitchen, limbs heavy and wooden and head foggy with sleep. He fought to pay attention, knowing how easy it would be to get lost if he didn't. But he made it to the kitchen with only a few detours along the way. But there was already someone else in there. Seated at the table, a newspaper in his hands, was Ivan.
He looked up from the newspaper at Alfred, folding it away and rising from his chair. He came around the table to Alfred, pulling a chair out for him before sitting back down. Alfred blushed and glowered at him, not appreciating being treated like a woman.
"Why are you up, little bird?" He asked, leaning his elbows on the table and looking across at Alfred.
"There are some nights when
sleep plays coy,
aloof and disdainful.
And all the wiles
that I employ to win
its service to my side
are useless as wounded pride,
and much more painful." Came the reply.
"More Maya Angelou? This is becoming a pattern, kitten." Ivan chuckled.
"She happens to be very quotable." Alfred shot back, yawning into his hand and getting up to get the glass of water he'd come here for in the first place. Ivan held out his hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit back down. Confused, Alfred did so.
"She's a wonderful poet, but if you only study the work of one poet how will you even expand your knowledge?" He asked, filling a glass up with ice and water and placing it in front of the blonde. Alfred took a drink, taking a moment to compose his reply.
"Do you have anyone special in mind?" He asked after a while. He looked over the top of his glass at Ivan, taking another drink. Ivan nodded and slid a book across the table at him, nodding towards it.
"Pushkin, a poet from my homeland. I am quite fond of him, myself. There is no better place to start than with a recommendation from a friend." He said with a slight smile as Alfred too the book and traced the cover with a finger. It looked old and worn, the cloth fraying at the corners of the cover.
"Sounds interesting." He said, placing the book down within easy reach. They sat there in silence for a moment, eyes locked. Something shot between them like an electric current, leaving static energy in the air. Alfred broke eye contact, unable to hold up beneath the intensity. Ivan rose from his seat and crossed to Alfred's end of the table.
"Finish your water and get back to sleep, my little sparrow. Worse things than I lurk in the dark corners of this house." He warned, raising Alfred's hand to his lips once more. Alfred could feel his skin burning where Ivan had touched. The taller man stared into his eyes for long moments before letting his hand go and exiting the kitchen, leaving a stricken Alfred behind him.
Alfred finished his water and grabbed the book, making his way back up to his room. Ivan's words stuck in his head like glue. Every shadow seemed to move and every corner seemed the perfect place for an attacker to hide. His heart pounded in his chest as he practically ran into his room and locked the door behind him.
As he crawled back between the blankets he looked over at the night stand where he'd laid the book Ivan had given him. Ivan wouldn't let him be put into any real danger, would he? A sweet guy like that? Never. He closed his eyes, convincing himself that it was the paranoia that made the man's canine teeth look sharper than usual. Like the shadows on the wall.
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The next morning, under the light of day, it was so easy to forget the unease of the night before. Without the shadows stretching toward him in dark halls, sunshine fell onto the creamy white pages of the poetry book. He was stretched out in his bed, reading over the poems.
They were beautiful. So expressive and deep. Alfred couldn't remember the last time he'd read something so emotionally was like it spoke the language of his soul. And with every poem he found his thoughts wandering back to the mysterious man who had given him the book.
I loved you: and, it may be, from my soul I loved you silently, without hope, fully,
The former love has never gone away,
But let it not recall to you my dole;
I wish not sadden you in any way.
In diffidence, in jealousy, in pain;
I loved you so tenderly and truly,
As let you else be loved by any man.
Alfred blushed, reading back over the poem once more. He couldn't help but think of Ivan, who was so sweet and charming. Alfred had never been in love before, but he was certain that it would feel something like this. Light, happy, safe.
He chastised himself for getting carried away. He wasn't in love with Ivan, it was just a silly little crush. Kids his age crushed on guys like him all the time, nothing came out of it. Then again, Ivan had actually started the flirting. Maybe he liked him too? I mean, it was possible, right?
Who was he kidding? If Ivan wanted anything from him it was a bit of tail to hit and quit. And Alfred wasn't that kind of boy. Though, if he was completely honest with himself, the thought of sex with Ivan was an intriguing one. He'd never done it before, but Ivan wouldn't be a bad choice if he was going to.
He blushed again, giggling a bit. He was cute, that was for sure. And so charming and sophisticated and gah! He couldn't help the warm fluttery feeling the older man gave him whenever he would kiss his hand or compliment him. He was young, naïve, and his head was spinning with thoughts of first love.
But how much did he actually know about Ivan? He'd seen all the good qualities, but the couldn't be all. There had to be some secret he was keeping, something that was just a little but off. No one was that fucking perfect. And while Alfred wasn't exactly thrilled to be doubting his crush, he wasn't a complete idiot. He knew he had to check up on this.
And the best way he knew how was to snoop around the house a little. Sure, he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary in his first sweep of the house, but he hadn't really been looking. Now that he knew the basics of what he was looking for he could find the proverbial skeletons in the closet more readily, right?
He rose up out of the bed, marking his place in the book and setting it down. In the light of day the prospect of canvasing the place seemed much more inviting than it had shortly after his chat with Ivan in the kitchen. Without the shadows to jump out at him and Ivan's ominous words far behind him, the house seemed downright pleasant.
He whistled merrily as he strode down the hallways, looking at all the paintings and decorations lining the walls. They were expensive but tasteful, never standing out more than they needed to. That was great in Alfred's opinion. He'd never really liked flashy, gaudy things. He blushed once more, daydreams of shopping with Ivan for decorations and furniture filling his head. He really needed to snap out of it! It wasn't like they were getting married or anything!
Not that it would be nice, you know. Ivan was nice and smart and hot and rich and so wonderful to him. His heart beat faster as he thought back to the night before and they way he'd looked at him when he'd asked if he knew why the caged bird sings. And the book of poetry he'd given him was just wonderful. Obviously Ivan had a truly beautiful soul to go along with that handsome face.
In the time it had taken him to justify his debilitating crush, he'd become hopelessly turned around in a part of the house he'd never even seen before. The lights were dimmer and fewer and farther between, the curtains had been drawn over the scant number of windows. The place seemed untouched save for the dust collecting on every surface. It was almost as if no one had been down this way for years and years. But certainly someone would have come to clean it, right?
Then again, Alfred hadn't seen any maids. Or anyone besides Toris, really. But the brunette couldn't possibly take care of this whole place by himself, could he? He had to have at least a small staff or he'd always be running around dusting. And since he hardly ever saw him outside of meals, he couldn't be. Maybe there was a night staff, or they were just really good at keeping out of sight. Mattie had been like that too...
He shook himself out of his thoughts and looked around again. This hallway was different than the others, even without the dust. It was grander, with more eye-catching decorations and gold leaf. But it was older, too. As if had been sitting here just as it was since the adornments had been the height of fashion. It was like being transported to the past, except dustier.
He peered about, eyes skimming interestedly over a few of the paintings on the walls. They all seemed to be from the same era as the fixtures, roughly late 1800s, early 1900s. Alfred was no expert, of course, but he'd read enough and seen enough to know. Winslow Homer, Thomas Eakins, George Bellows, and many more lined the walls.
But one stood out to him, calling him with a siren's song. A portrait hung over a large vase like a likeness of a God over a holy shrine, violet eyes staring down at him in the most familiar and yet strangely alien way. It was a portrait of Ivan, obviously done to mimic the style of the times. He wondered who had painted this to have so captured the strangeness that seemed to surround the man.
He looked around the edges of the painting, hoping to find the name of an artist or a date. At first he could see nothing, just the subtle shadows of the blended paint that made up the background. But as he scanned the canvas once more, he found a tiny signature scribbled in gold paint.
Thomas Eakins 1874
Alfred gasped and scrambled back, startled and confused. This couldn't possibly be real, could it? Certainly the painting was as dusty as any of the other furnishings in the dingy hallway, but there was no possible way that the painting was really from 1874. At least, not if it was truly Ivan in the painting.
It had to be a relative of his, he was sure of it. But the resemblance was just so uncanny, even he didn't believe that. It was his mind playing tricks on him, of course. There was absolutely no way in hell Ivan could be that old. He was 25-30 tops. Probably younger than that. But the way he stood, the intense violet eyes staring out of the frame...it was just too creepy.
He reached out to touch the painting, so absorbed in his find that he couldn't hear the clicking of boots against the cold stone tile of the floor. Closer he got to the portrait and closer the other person got. The footsteps stopped just as Alfred grazed his fingers over the surface of the painting.
"What are you doing, boy?" The growl issued forth from the shadows at the end of the dimly lit hallway. Gilbert stepped out where Alfred could see him, red eyes seeming to glow even more brightly and dangerously than before. Something froze up in Alfred as warning bells went off in his head. Every instinct told him to run, but he stayed put. He hadn't done anything worth running from and he'd be damned if he was going to let this guy intimidate him.
"I was just looking at the portrait. It's really cool! Did Thomas Eakins really paint this?" He inquired. Gilbert narrowed his eyes and took a step closer.
"I'm afraid I can't answer that. I'm not one for paintings." Suddenly the suspicious glare changed, morphing into a predatory smirk. "But if you like that, you'll love the paintings over here. Why don't you join me?" His voice dropped an octave, taking on a raspy, husky quality. Alfred tried to fight off the fog clouding his head but it was a futile effort.
He took a tentative step and then another, crossing over the line between dim light and pitch black shadow to stand before Gilbert. There was a moment where they seemed suspended in time, the albino man seeming to sum him up. Time didn't seem to pass as he was scrutinized so harshly.
But the moment shattered as Gilbert through him against the wall, pinning him there. His eyes glowed blood red and canines extended into fangs. Alfred heart beat fast and hard, but he remained passive. He was caught by the spell of his voice, merely a rag doll to him.
"I told Ivan we should just get it over with and feed quick. Dump you in the crypt like all the others and wait for the next little fly to buzz into our trap. But no. The fool had to go and fall in love with you. Now we don't have anything to eat and you know too much!" He growled, slamming Alfred against the wall again. He could feel a warm trickle down the back of his neck.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you bleeding?" Gilbert mocked, spinning him around and pinning him to the wall from behind instead. "Let me take care of that for you." He purred.
Alfred was frozen, images playing over and over again in his head. It was just like that night, the night he lost everything he held dear. The night he ran away for the last time, finally escaping the cruel grasp of the man who ruined his life.
Mattie being slammed against the wall, hard. He whimpered, but didn't cry out. For all that he was shy and kind, Mattie was so very brave. He'd been Al's hero since they were little, just like he'd wanted to be Mattie's hero. Yeah some hero he was, hiding in the corner as his brother was thrown against the wall again and again and again until blood ran down his face. Alfred couldn't tell what was worse: the gash in his head, or the broken nose. "You little shit! What the hell's wrong with you, you freak? Why don't you scream when I hit you, boy?" Their foster father slurred, swaying above Mattie's limp form. The smell of alcohol and blood was heavy and nauseating. Alfred could still smell it now, it haunted him. Mattie didn't answer, didn't even get up. When their foster father picked him up and threw him across the room again, he was as limp as a rag doll. No matter what the drunken man did, he didn't even stir. Tears streamed down Alfred's face as he realized his brother was dead and that he was all alone with a murderer.
Alfred's cheeks were wet with tears, his neck with blood. Gilbert was gone and he was pressed against something firm and warm. Someone's chest, the arms attached wrapped around him. He looked up, blue eyes red rimmed, to see Ivan looking back down at him.
"H-he killed Mattie." He whimpered, not fully realizing where he was.
"Gilbert? It's possible, I suppose..." He said, looking to where Gilbert had fled to when Ivan had woken up because of the commotion and come out into the hallway to inspect.
"Gilbert..." Everything came rushing back. The painting, the fight, Gilbert wanting to literally eat him. And Ivan...Ivan had fallen in love with him? He looked up at this man who had been so kind to him. Yet in his heart he knew that he was a thing like Gilbert. Something that would just as soon devour him as look at him.
"Please tell me it's not true." He begged clutching his hands in the front of Ivan's shirt. He didn't want it to be true. He wanted Ivan to take him in his arms and tell him that he was perfectly human and he'd never even known about Gilbert. He wanted so badly to be in love and have Ivan for himself. And Ivan wanted that too, more than Alfred could ever know. But he couldn't lie to Alfred, not anymore.
"Alfred, it's not what you think, I swear! Just give me some time to explain myself and you'll see that I love you!" He pleaded, taking Alfred's hands in his own. It was so different from the smooth, sly way Ivan usually used with him. It tugged at his heart strings and it took all he had not to just throw himself into his arms.
But he held strong, tearing out of Ivan's grasp and running down the hall towards the light. If he could just reach sunlight, he would be safe. He heard footsteps echoing behind him but he didn't look back. Ivan was certainly following him and if he looked back at him, he didn't know if he could keep running.
"Wait, Alfred!" Ivan called out, extending a hand to the teenager. He couldn't let him go, not when he was so close. He needed Alfred now to break up the endless nights spent wandering the Earth, never growing old or frail. His hair was the closest thing to sunshine he'd seen in years and those eyes were as blue as the daylight skies. He had to have him. His little bit of daytime in the never ending night.
Alfred stopped just short of the end of the shadowy hall. A few more steps and he could be free, at least until nightfall. But he couldn't take those last two steps, not with Ivan so desperate for him to listen. But this time it wasn't a spell or hypnotism or whatever he'd used before. This was Alfred, in love, and making the stupidest decision of his life.
Ivan stopped short, reaching out his hand to brush against Alfred's arm lightly.
"We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life."
Alfred turned away, not wanting to hear it. Ivan had lied to him! Brought him here as a meal and instead decided to toy with his heart. "No. No, I'm not listening to this!" He said, taking one step towards the light. But Ivan caught him, pulling him to his chest, continuing the poem.
"Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls."
Alfred struggled away, not wanting to hear any more of this. He couldn't just start quoting Maya Angelou and expect him to forgive him! He was a monster who preyed on kids like him, he was just lucky that he'd managed to enthrall the master of the house, or he would be dead already.
"Forget it, I'm not going to fall for this just so you can fuck me then suck my blood out. How many of my friends have you taken? How many of the people I knew and cared for? How many kids just like me?" He spat, struggling out of Ivan's arms and into the sunlight.
He stopped, just for a moment, and looked back. The sadness in Ivan's eyes reminded him for a moment of the daydreams he'd had not too long ago about building a life with him. It hurt, to see him so heartbroken. But facts were facts and Ivan was a monster and a murderer.
Ivan took wooden steps towards him, holding his hand out towards the boy he'd come to love so dearly. First for his beauty, then for his spirit. His pale hand extended into the sunlight, but only for a moment before he had to pull back. He cradled his burned hand to his chest and watched with sad eyes as Alfred turned his back and left.
Before Alfred could round the corner and disappear from sight, he called out to him. It was his last chance to let him know how much he meant to him.
"We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free."
Alfred seemed to pause a moment, torn between leaving Ivan behind and running back to what they could have had if he'd just been human. Lazy days in the Library, long nights spent talking, falling asleep in eachother's arms. Everything Alfred wanted and nothing he could have.
"When the sun sets I'll come find you and we'll talk. Toris will make sure you don't leave the house. And Alfred?" He paused for a moment, catching his eye. "I love you." He called. Alfred shook his head and turned on his heel, running as far and fast as he could from Ivan and the searing pain in his heart.
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In the end, Alfred wasn't sure what made him stay. He could have easily overpowered Toris and gotten the hell outta dodge before the sun set and Ivan was one again able to walk the Earth. He could have run far and fast, taking a few things from the house to sell and gotten a one way ticket out of the country. But he hadn't. He'd gone to his room and spent the day crying over what he thought he'd lost.
Had he ever really had any of it in the first place? Had it even been his to lose? From the second he'd seen Ivan back in the alley, his hand stretched out to him in friendship, he'd been meant as nothing more than a meal or a plaything. Ivan didn't, couldn't love him. He was some inhuman creature that preyed on the unsuspecting public. A monster, a predator.
A knock came at the door, shaking Alfred out of his thoughts. He glared at the wooden portal and threw the pillow he'd been sobbing into at it. He didn't know if it was dark enough yet for Ivan to be the one at the door, but it's not like he particularly wanted to see Toris, either. He was in on the whole fucking thing!
"Go away!" He shouted, getting up to drag the dresser in front for the door. "I don't want to see you, whoever you are! You're all a bunch of fucking loons and monsters!" He growled, tugging at the heavy piece of furniture in a futile effort to get it to budge.
"Alfred, it's just me. Toris. Will you please just come out? Or at least open the door and let me in." The man pleaded, knocking on the door again. But Alfred was determinded. He wasn't going to talk to any of them no matter how much they begged. They'd have to drag him cold, dead body out of the room to see him again. Not that they'd probably even flinch at that.
"I said no!" He growled, tugging on the dresser again. Toris sighed and shook his head, using his master key to simply enter the room anyway. Alfred, who had been straining against the weight of the dresser, managed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The door hit the side of his head and knocked him over, making him dizzy for a moment as Toris barged in.
"Now, Alfred. I know this is a lot to take in, but-" Alfred cut him off with a glare.
"A lot to take in? A lot to take in!? Toris, the guy you work for is a fucking vampire! Why the hell are you even still here, let alone trying to win me around?" He spat, looking at him like he was completely insane. Someone to be pitied and despised. But Toris just took it with the same soft smile he'd graced him with for the duration of his stay.
"I thought it would have been obvious, but maybe you were so wrapped up in Ivan you failed to notice?' He laughed softly. Alfred blushed and his heart ached at the mention of Ivan. What could Toris possibly know about that? He hadn't been wrapped up in Ivan...no matter how much he'd wanted to be.
"Do you really think that two vampires who have managed on their own without a housekeeper for centuries would just pick me up out of the blue? Or that they would just run an ad in the paper? What would they say? How many would they have to kill before they found one willing to keep a secret?" He asked, holding a hand out to Alfred. Alfred paused for a moment, not sure he could trust him. But he took it tentatively, letting the man help him up.
"I was supposed to be dinner once, too. And I was save by love, just like you were." He said, thinking back with what almost looked to Alfred like fondness at the memory. Alfred's blood boiled as he thought of Ivan and Toris in love. He clenched his fists, rage and jealousy threatening to overcome him.
"No, Alfred. Not the master." He giggled, as if the very possibility was preposterous. "You can rest assured that he only loves you." Alfred baulked, scowling at Toris like he was Public Enemy #1.
"That bastard doesn't love anyone and you know it." He hissed, but Toris merely shook his head like Alfred was being stubborn and would see the truth soon enough. Alfred felt patronized and trapped. Not even the other human in the house was on his side.
"I felt the same way when I was first informed of the true nature of the inhabitants of this house. Betrayed, hurt, scared, angry, and just a little relieved because it means you don't have to let yourself fall in love and open up to another person again. Tell me when I'm getting warm." Toris said, his voice calm and soft.
"Sounds familiar..." He said warily, inching away from Toris as he brought in a tea tray and began pouring Alfred a glass of green tea. Alfred absolutely hated tea, but for some reason he loved green tea the way Toris made it. "But if you aren't talking about Ivan, who are you talking about?" He asked, taking the tea from him with a nod of thanks.
"Like I said, I thought it would have been obvious. Gilbert and I have been together for a few years now, couldn't you tell?" He asked, pouring himself a cup as well and sitting down next to Alfred. The blonde teen felt kind of awkward, like they were in some sort of high school movie and now was girl-talk time. But he was definitely not going to braid Toris' hair if he asked.
"Actually, I couldn't tell at all. I only ever saw you two talk once and you weren't like...all over eachother." He said, laughing a bit. Toris laughed along, shrugging.
"I guess I am just used to our special brand of affection, then. It's been quite awhile since there's been another human in the household and the Master has never taken an interest in anyone else. So I sometimes forget how other couples act." He said, taking a sip of his tea and smiling fondly over personal memories of his time with Gilbert. "Couples like you and Ivan. The electricity between you is almost palpable.
"We're not a couple! And there's no electricity. He was probably just hungry whenever you saw him looking at me." Alfred huffed, glaring at Toris again and moving away from him on the bed. But Toris didn't even really seem to notice.
"Then what about when you were the one looking at him?" He said with a small, impish smirk behind the rim of his teacup. That little bastard was sneakier than Alfred could have imagined! He huffed and hit him with a pillow. It was a friendly scene, but there was a tension in Alfred's shoulders that bespoke the underlying fear in the situation.
"Come on, Al. Just give him a chance." Toris asked again, setting down his teacup. "He worked really hard to make a really nice dinner for you and he doesn't even eat. He just wants to talk to you, is all. And if you don't let him talk to you now over dinner, he'll just come in here later." He pointed out.
Alfred sighed and laid back on the bed, staring up at the canopy above. "He lied to me. And he kills people, Toris! How am I supposed to trust him when I know he's not even human? And how can I ever believe he loves me when I was slotted to be a meal until recently?" He grabbed the pillow and hugged it to his chest, burying his face in it to hide the threatening storm of tears.
"If you were stranded in a boat and the only way to survive was to eat another human, would you do it? And even if you wouldn't, could you really fault someone who would?" He asked, petting Alfred's hair and pretending not to notice the way the teen's shoulders shook. "That's all it is, Alfred. Ivan has no other way to eat besides feeding on those humans who are least likely to be missed. Those with no families to hurt in the process." Alfred looked up at Toris, scrubbing at his eyes under his glasses.
"Can't he drink from animals? Like in Vampire books?" He asked, wishing desperately that there was some alternative. He wanted to be with Ivan, he really did. But could he kiss those lips knowing they'd touched human blood?
"No, he can't. It has to be human blood, or he'll die. I asked Gilbert the same question when I first started to come to terms with what he is. It has to come from a human or it's like not eating at all." He explained, running his fingers soothingly through blonde locks. Alfred leaned up against him, unable to remember the last time he'd felt so safe and taken care of. It was like having a parent again.
"How do you deal with it, Toris? Certainly the guilt gets you from time to time?" He asked, laying his head on the brunette's shoulder. He was still pissed at Ivan and didn't quite trust him, but if Toris and Gilbert could do it, why not them?
"It gets easier as time goes on. But yes, it does still get to me sometimes. But I just remind myself that it's a choice between someone I've never met and someone I love dearly. And you've seen for yourself how well they treat the prey they bring in. Most of these people come in off the street with nothing and die with warm food in their stomach and a good night's rest. Is that so bad? To make someone happy, safe, and warm for one day before helping them go painlessly?" He asked. Alfred sniffled and wiped his nose on his shirt sleeve.
"So it doesn't hurt?" He asked. He'd been wondering about that since he'd found out he was supposed to be lunch. Wondering if he'd feel anything at all when they finally came for him. But Toris shook his head and carded his fingers through blonde hair once more.
"Not at all. It's like going to sleep, I've heard. I've seen them do it once or twice and the subjects always seem to be happy. I don't think they mind at all by the time Ivan and Gilbert are done persuading them. Then again, we'd probably be happy to go, too, if they ever decided to "persuade" us like that." He chuckled.
"Yeah, I've noticed that." Alfred drawled wryly. "What exactly is that? Some sort of hypnotism? I mean, there's gotta be a gimmick, right?"
"It's called Mesmer, and it's no gimmick. I guess it's some sort of evolutionary tool to help Vampires hunt humans without detection. We just can't resist the sound of their voices when they do it." Toris gave a tiny little mischievous grin that seemed out of place on him. "If you do make up with Ivan, you should ask him to use it during sex. It's really great, Gilbert and I do it all the time."
Alfred spluttered and blushed, whacking Toris with the pillow again. "Dude! Not cool! I totally do not want to think about you and Snow White fucking, okay?" He squeaked, shuddering and trying to push the mental image from his mind. Toris laughed and took the pillow from him, placing it securely out of Alfred's reach.
"So will you at least give the master a chance? Go to dinner, speak with him, let him romance you. Gilbert and I have a bet going on whether or not he's any good at it." He laughed. Alfred stuck his tongue out at him and grinned.
"On two conditions. One: you let me in on that bet and Two: help me pick out something to wear?" He asked, eyes pleading. Toris nodded and hoisted himself off of the bed, holding a hand out for Alfred.
"When we're through with you, Ivan won't know what hit him."
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Ivan paced the floor of the dining room, each moment that passed seeming both longer and shorter than the last. Alfred wouldn't come, he was sure of it. He hated him now because of what he was. He should have known that it would happen like this. Love had passed him by in his human lifetime, it was only natural that it elude him in his eternal night, as well.
But Alfred had to come. Ivan didn't know what he would do if he just flat out refused. He didn't want to scare the boy by barging right in and baring his heart. Because that's what this was really about: letting Alfred know how much Ivan neededhim. Those blue eyes haunted his dreams and every waking moment was spent looking for that flash of blonde hair. He was consumed by the teenager, so much so that he would give his life to have him.
Ivan had finally sat down at the table again when the door opened and Alfred stepped in. Ivan scrambled back out of the chair, gawping at the boy. He was beautiful! Someone had obviously helped him dress because he'd never seen him look so good. Golden hair was brushed to a shine, gleaming in the candlelight. Blue eyes lined with just the faintest traces of eye-liner (which Toris had almost broken his nose trying to get on the stubborn boy), all topped off with black slacks just a little too tight and a blue button up that matched his eyes perfectly.
"Uh...you wanted to s-see me?" Alfred asked, suddenly nervous under that reverent stare. He wanted to run back the way he came and barricade himself in his room until sunrise when he was safe. He wanted to run into Ivan's arms and make him promise to never let him go. But most of all he wanted to know why Ivan was looking at him like that.
"You look stunning." The vampire whispered, almost to himself. He recovered quickly from his shock, however, when Alfred's face lit up in a frustrated blush. He let a charming smile slide onto his face in lieu of the shocked expression and crossed the room to Alfred. He took his hand, raising it to his lips and kissing the back.
Alfred fought the urge to jerk back as if he'd been burned, but Ivan could see the fear in his eyes. He sighed sadly and let Alfred's hand drop, pulling out his chair for him. Alfred sat down, gaze never leaving Ivan's face. He wasn't sure if it was because he didn't want to be caught off guard or because he just didn't want to look away.
"Alfred, there is no reason to fear me. I would faster step out into the light of day and burn alive than harm a single hair on your head." To illustrate the point, he bent down and placed a tender kiss on the crown of the boy's blonde head. Alfred's heart sped up and his breath caught, reminding him once again why he hadn't just high-tailed it out of there when He'd escaped Ivan the first time.
"What do you want from me?" He asked, looking up at him again. And there was that look again, the one that begged Ivan to take his beautiful kitten into his arms and tell him everything would be okay at the same time it warned him to stay far away.
"Your heart, your love, your company, perhaps your body if you are comfortable." He answered honestly. Alfred spluttered and scowled at him, smacking his arm before he could even think about the consequences.
"Don't say things like that!" He screeched, whacking at him. Ivan chuckled and caught the offending hand, bringing his wrist up to place a kiss on the soft skin there. Alfred scowled and yanked his arm out of Ivan's grasp. "Why should I trust you?" He asked, narrowing his eyes warily.
"Because I love you. And you may not want to admit it, but you love me too. I can see it in your eyes: the pain of keeping yourself from me through some misguided wish to be normal. But the truth is that you've seen much worse than I could ever hope to do and you really don't care as much for the humans I prey on as you want to think." Ivan said, smirking and pinning Alfred with a condescending, knowing look.
"Shut up! You don't fucking know me!" Alfred growled, but Ivan continued on.
"Sure, you want to care. And you know you should. And maybe you do, to some extent. But you don't care enough for them that it would keep you from wanting me to take you in my arms," He did so, pulling Alfred out of his seat and pressing him against the wall, "tell you that everything will be alright," The ghost of his breath danced over Alfred's ear he whispered into it, "and then ravage you mercilessly."
Alfred's heart nearly skipped a beat as the vampire swept him up into a mind-numbing kiss that made his whole body throb with desire. Ivan's hand were everywhere and his lips were soft and wet against his own. He let his own hands wander over the unexplored regions of Ivan's back and shoulders, the dinner on the table all but forgotten.
When Ivan finally pulled away Alfred's mind was buzzing and his breath was coming in short pants. And as tantalizing as it was to Ivan, it wasn't very good for the cough that Alfred had been developing. He took a deep breath, trying to get in as much air as possible. But he'd barely breathed in before coughing it all back up, unable to catch his breath.
Ivan watched in horror, not knowing what to do, as his darling pet's lips turned blue and his eyes went even hazier than after their impromptu make-out session. For whole moments he was frozen there before scooping the still coughing teenager into his arms and running off to find Toris.
"Do not worry, katyonak. I will not let you die." He whispered into his love's hair as the boy struggled to breath.
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When Alfred woke up, light was streaming through a window straight onto his face and he felt like his throat had taken a particularly bad beating. He tried to draw breath, but he couldn't feel his lungs up without coughing.
"Sit back, Alfred. We wouldn't want you overtaxing yourself." A man said, bustling into the room. He had long dark hair in a ponytail, glasses perched on his nose, and a pristine white doctor's coat. Alfred's heart froze in his chest, wondering what was wrong with him that he needed a doctor.
"My name is Dr. Edelstein. Ivan called me in after you collapsed during dinner." He said, checking over a chart in his hand. A fleeting look of displeasure crossed his face as he read over whatever was written there.
"Is...is it bad?" He whimpered. He didn't like that look at all. That was the look doctors gave when something went bad. He twisted the blanket in his hands, face pale and gut churning.
"I'm afraid it is." Dr. Edelstein said quietly, sighing and bracing himself for whatever reaction Alfred would give. "You have pneumonia, pretty bad. There's...not much I can do." He placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder. He looked truly sorry and for that Alfred was glad.
"Am I dying?" He asked, looking up at the doctor. He just wanted to know the truth. No sugar coating, no nice words. If he was going to die he wanted to know it.
"I'm afraid so. If it doesn't clear up on it's own, there's no hope." He told him, writing something on his chart and tucking it under his arm. Alfred nodded dumbly, letting the information sink in. He was going to die, and possibly soon. "I'll leave you here to process. Is there anyone you'd like me to send in?" He asked.
Alfred shook his head dumbly, staring down at the blanket covering him. "Just...tell Toris to let Ivan know I want to see him when he wakes up." He whispered. Dr. Edelstein nodded and left, letting the door click shut behind him.
Alfred waited until the footsteps faded to break down and cry.
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Alfred coughed, looking out of the window into the dark of the night. The window was open, light breezes blowing through. Toris had wanted him to close it, to get out of the draft. But Alfred knew that if Ivan was going to come in, it would be through the window. He didn't know why, he just did.
He would look away every once in awhile, convinced that the man wouldn't come in while he was looking. He always ended up looking back, desperately hoping that he would be there when he did. Everytime he looked back, though, the window frame would be just as empty and he would be just as alone.
He exploded into another coughing fit, doubling over with the force of the hacking cough racking his body. He felt a cool hand on his back, rubbing in circles as he tried in vain to clear his lungs of the deadly fluid that was slowly drowning him. He looked up, expecting Toris or maybe even Gilbert. It was Ivan, however, who stood over him with a look of concern on his face. He gave him a tired smile and laid back, taking deep breaths.
"Hey." Ivan said softly, sitting in the chair next to the bed and taking Alfred's hand.
"Hey yourself, big guy." Alfred chuckled raspily, clutching his hand. His chest hurt and it was hard to take a breath, but he'd managed. He didn't know why Ivan returned night after night to see him when he was obviously dying. And even if he wasn't, couldn't he just get someone better? There must be thousands of Twitards out there he could seduce just by pretending to be what he really was.
"How are you doing today, my pet?" He asked, pressing a cool hand to Alfred's forehead. The boy sighed and leaned into the cooling touch, closing his eyes. He stayed there for a moment, not answering the question. It was times like this that he would give anything to have just a little more time with Ivan.
"Why me?" He asked softly, holding Ivan's wrisp in a vice grip, never wanting to let go of him or anything that tethered him to the Earth. He didn't want to die, he wasn't ready. Not when he'd just now let himself truly love Ivan.
"What do you mean, 'Why me?'" Ivan asked, kissing him on the top of his head and holding him close, sensing the insecurity.
"Come on, you don't want a guy like me. I'm damaged goods, a loser." Alfred said, looking away from Ivan's sincere gaze. Ivan could have anyone he wanted just with the mesmerizing thing he did with that voice. Why would he want someone like him?
Ivan just smiled and shook his head.
"You are not damaged, katyonak. You are strong. The things you have been through, the monstrosities you have seen, those experiences are what made you into what you are today. And that is the man I love, not anyone else. You are all the more beautiful for your damages." He said, taking Alfred's hand in his.
"You're bullshitting me." He said, coughing and slipping his hand out of the vampire's.
"Did you hear about the rose that grew
from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature's law is wrong it
learned to walk with out having feet.
Funny it seems, but by keeping it's dreams,
it learned to breathe fresh air.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete
when no one else ever cared."
Ivan took his hand again, running the pad of his thumb over the back. Alfred looked at him, smiling slightly. Ivan smiled back, convinced he was getting through to him. All needed was for Alfred to realize that he meant every word he said. He loved him and he wanted him to stay with him forever.
"That wasn't Angelou. Was it one of your guys? From...wherever the hell you're from?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. He'd never heard that particular poem.
"No. In fact, he was one of yours. You should be familiar with him, he is very recent. Tupac Shakur?" He inquired. Alfred's eyes bugged out and it was only a fraction of a second before he burst out into peals of laughter. Ivan raised an eyebrow, wondering why Alfred was so amused by this.
"Dude! You did not just quote a rapper at me!" He laughed, clutching his stomach. The laughter dissolved into a coughing fit as his diaphragm became too weak to sustain the laughter with the fluid in his lungs.
"Easy, Alfred. Do not strain yourself so much. If I had known this was going to happen, I wouldn't have taken the trouble to look up American poets." He scolded.
"You actually looked up American poets? What, did you assume I knew every poet that ever lived in the country just because I like Maya Angelou?" He asked, teasing him lightly.
"No, I simply saw it as an opportunity for us to grow our knowledge together. Something to share, da? I love spending time with you, and our shared love of poetry gives me a very good excuse." Alfred laughed softly, careful not to jar himself too much.
"You don't need an excuse to spend time with me, big guy. All you gotta do is ask." He said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. But Ivan turned his head at the last minute, surprising him by catching his lips instead. He gasped a little and kissed back, heart racing.
Ivan pulled back, eyes glowing vivid violet. "Stay with me." He said suddenly, pulling Alfred in his arms. He couldn't stand to see his precious sunshine like this, weak and fading. He had to do something, he had to save him. Alfred had surely saved him from a life of solitude and inhumanity, should he not do the same?
"Ivan, you heard the doctor! I'm dying!" He said, trying to pry himself out of Ivan's grasp. The man had to realize that as much as he wanted to stay, he just couldn't. There was no way to escape death, not when he came knocking at your door. For whom the bell tolls, and all that jazz.
"Let me turn you! You will live forever and never be sick again. Neither heat nor chill will effect you, and you will never again be bullied into submission by drunken fools. Please, say you'll stay with me." He begged, pulling Alfred back into his arms again.
To live forever with Ivan? Never sick or hurt or cold? It was a wonderful idea, but could he give up the light of the sun for it? Could he give up the rest of eternity for this man, who loved him so much? He searched the vampire's eyes, trying to find any trace of doubt there. Not but love and hope did he find in the warm depth of lilac eyes. He smiled, wrapping his arms around Ivan's neck and burying his face in his scarf.
"Beloved,
In what other lives or lands
Have I known your lips
Your Hands
Your Laughter brave
Irreverent.
Those sweet excesses that
I do adore.
What surety is there
That we will meet again,
On other worlds some
Future time undated.
I defy my body's haste.
Without the promise
Of one more sweet encounter
I will not deign to die."
He whispered into Ivan's ear, leaning his head to the side to expose his neck to him. He would do it, he would pledge himself to this child of the night for the rest of eternity. And he wouldn't ever look back, no matter what happened. He'd learned his lesson about that. Mattie would have wanted him to live in the here and now.
He expected a stabbing pain, or at least a little pinch. But only a soft kiss was laid on his exposed neck. He shivered slightly, but braced himself once more. The next touch would be of teeth, right? But Ivan merely kissed another spot on his neck, sucking the skin between his teeth lightly to leave a mark.
"Patience, my pet. I'm not simply going to bite you. Turning is a special occasion between the two of us, a symbol of trust and affection. By the time I actually turn you, you will be too far gone to even realize you've been wounded." He purred, licking the hickey he'd left.
Ivan laid Alfred back on the bed, pulling the covers off of him and climbing atop him. He leaned in, kissing him hard and hot. Alfred responded immediately, heart thudding. His mind started to cloud over again, but it was a different kind of fog.
"It's almost too bad it has come to this." Ivan chuckled, pulling Alfred's shirt off and latching himself onto a nipple, making his partner squirm. "I love the sound of your heartbeat." Alfred let out a gasp and arched into his mouth as he returned his attention to the hardening nub.
"What, it make you hungry or something?" He chuckled breathlessly, growing harder by the second. He'd always heard that sex felt awesome, but they weren't even to the main event yet and Ivan was driving him insane. He just wanted him to touch him, already.
"Yes, but not in the way you are thinking, katyonak." He chuckled huskily, biting down lightly on the nipple and reveling in the moan he earned. He wondered what other sounds his delightful little pet could make. He kissed a path down the smooth planes of his torso to find out.
Alfred wriggled, the light kisses to his stomach tickling. He couldn't stifle the giggles as Ivan took advantage of this, nuzzling below his belly button. The human was just so adorable, he couldn't resist. Alfred frowned and slapped his head lightly. Ivan chuckled and kissed the spot below his belly button one more time before pulling back to tug his pants down.
"Oh wow, we're really going to do this now, aren't we?" Alfred commented nervously. Ivan sat up and looked at him, tilting his head to the side. At first he didn't get what he was saying. He would rather do this later when he was closer to dying? But then it really hit him: Little Alfred was still a virgin
"This is almost too perfect." He chuckled. "My darling sunshine is pure." Alfred blushed and smacked him upside the head. Ivan lowered his head to lick the tip of Alfred's cock, cutting off his complaints with a sharp gasp and a low moan. Alfred glared at him with a pretty flush staining his cheeks.
"Don't do that! You can't just make fun of me for being a virgin and then- oh god!" He squeaked, grabbing Ivan's hair and trying to pull him off. In one fell swoop Ivan had taken him fully in his mouth, something the young human hadn't been expecting. Alfred tried to close his legs, but Ivan was already situated between them, holding them apart.
"I was not making fun, my pet. I am quite pleasantly surprised by this turn of events. The thought of being the first to take you..." He paused, a predatory smirk growing on his face. "It's very appealing to me." He swiped his tongue over Alfred's member again, distracting from the penetrating digit. It was so easy to distract Alfred, the boy hadn't even seen him reach for the lubricant.
Alfred certainly didn't remember agreeing to give Ivan his virginity on top of the rest of his goddamned immortal life, but he certainly wasn't complaining either. Sure, the finger felt fucking weird, but the mouth on his cock was amazing and he didn't want Ivan to stop. And besides, what's the worst that could happen? If he did this he'd live forever with a great guy who he was pretty sure he was at least a little in love with. If he didn't, Ivan would probably still turn him and he didn't lose anything but the sex.
He sucked in a gasp as another finger snuck in next to the first. It wasn't feeling any better yet, but at least it wasn't crazy painful either. That is, until the third finger. He yelped and tried to push Ivan off, letting out a string of curses. But Ivan merely kissed his forehead and shushed him gently.
"Calm down, relax, and let me work." He whispered, stilling his fingers but not pulling them out as he placed tender kisses all over his face and neck. Alfred took a deep breath and relaxed his body, nodding at Ivan to go on. He squirmed in discomfort, waiting for the pain to die down. It didn't really go away, but it became more bearable.
"Just get on with it, already. I literally don't have all day. Dying, remember?" He scolded the vampire, who was takingwaaay too long. He didn't want to get so caught up in the moment that they forget why they were really doing this. Well, the most pressing reason. Alfred would be lying if he said he didn't want Ivan with or without the immortality.
"Be patient, katyonak. You are not going to die this instant. You still have a few weeks left in you. You are merely being a drama queen." He chuckled, climbing back up his body to plant a kiss on his nose. Alfred scrunched his face up and pouted at the Russian, smacking his arms.
"I oughta push you off of me right now, you asshole. You're not being ni-ICE!" He squeaked the last syllable out as Ivan smirked and hooked his fingers up into a spot that almost made him forget his own name, let alone what he'd been talking about mere moment before. Ivan kissed him, hard and hot, and withdrew the fingers after a few more teasing strokes to his lover's prostate.
"Who is being nice now, my pet? I happen to think I'm very nice." He purred, nipping at his earlobe before grabbing his hips and pushing in. Alfred's eyes shot open and he tried to push him off and out of him. It hurt like a fucking bitch and holy fuck it was huge!
"Get it out! Get it out!" He whined, trying to push him away. But Ivan held him close, kissing away the tears and trailing fingers up and down his spine soothingly. Alfred took in little gasps of air, trying to relax. It wasn't until Ivan started to stroke his softening cock back to life that he started to forget about the pain.
"Relax, love. It will get better soon, I promise." Ivan soothed as he began to work in and out with shallow thrusts, letting Alfred take him in a little at a time. It was difficult not to just throw caution to the wind and plow him into the bed, but it would be worth the wait in the end. So he dried the tears and hushed the whimpers and kept going.
Ivan's promise held true as pain dulled and pleasure made it's entry. Soon Alfred was panting and begging for it faster as the Russian slid against him. He wrapped his legs around his lover's waist, keening for him as short nails raked down his back. He'd never felt like this before: so willing to give himself over to sensation and lust.
Ivan looked down at the teenager beneath him, sprawled out on the bed like a fallen angel. Blue eyes peirced him with a hazy, half-lidded gaze of pure want and in that moment it was almost too much for him. He hadn't had a meal in weeks and here was this delectable human just giving himself without even having to be mesmerized.
A hand wound itself into Alfred's hair and tugged back sharply, exposing the tanned flesh of his neck to piercing fangs. He steeled himself for impact, waiting for the pain and chill of temporary death. Or undeath, or whatever.
What he wasn't prepared for was the wall of warm, intense pleasure that his him as his lover's fangs sank into his flesh and began to drain his life away. He moaned, bucking his hips onto the cock inside of him. As the amount of blood in his body became less, the coil in his gut wound tighter.
He felt something pressed against his lips. Ivan's wrist trickled with blood much too dark and sluggish to be human, his own blood. Alfred leaned forward and licked the would tentatively, closing his mouth over it to suck greedily as the primal urge was awakened within him. It was like a beautiful cycle of love and horror as they fed from each other, exchanging life forces and making love in a way so intimate that Alfred doubted he could ever be with anyone else afterward.
One more thrust and he was undone, disconnecting from Ivan's blood flow and canting his hips up in a desperate attempt for more as he came between them. Ivan buried his fangs and cock deep inside of Alfred as he filled him up with hot semen and drained the last remnants of human blood from his system.
They slowly relaxed back, panting in the afterglow of their ritual. Alfred stared up at the ceiling, in complete awe. What had just happened? It was like one moment he'd been the person he'd always been, and now he was something different. He wasn't sure if it was the vampire thing, or losing his virginity but something was definitely not the same.
"That was..." He panted, looking over at the Russian man.
"I have found that the turning is more bearable when accompanied by sex." Ivan remarked, yawning and pulling Alfred to him. Alfred nodded and curled up to him, nuzzling the fine dusting of pale hairs on his chest. He was too tired to really talk about it right now. That would come later.
For now all that mattered was that he was in Ivan's arms, and that he would stay there for eternity.
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One year later
Alfred looked out over the city lights glittering in the darkness. He'd come to appreciate the beauty of the night in his time as a fledgling. It hadn't always been easy, and more than once he'd forgotten completely and tried to go outside during the day or went weeks without feeding. Needless to say, it had taken some getting used to.
But he had Ivan, and he had Toris, even Gilbert had warmed up to him after he'd turned. And every time he slipped up, one of them was there to catch him. It was almost like having a family again, really. He would still look across the open fields in the cool moonlight and wish that Mattie could be here. But most nights he was content just to lay in Ivan's arms or run across the Earth under the stars with him. And yes, they did have to hunt. And yes, it did bother him. For the first few weeks he'd refused to eat, clutching his stomach as the hungry began to eat at him.
But Ivan hadn't given up, even when Alfred looked to be near death for the second time since he'd met him. He'd begged and pleaded with him to eat. He brought him human after human, trying to get him to look at them with something other than horror in his eyes. And, in a moment of weakness, he finally succumbed.
Since then, hunting and feeding had gotten easier. In his heart he still hated that it had to come to this, but everyone had to eat, right? And if you weren't fast enough to get away? Then you became lunch. They were predators, not priests. And he was slowly becoming okay with that.
As the last traces of dusk gave way to pure night, Ivan stepped out onto the rooftop with him. They were in the city on a hunt, Toris waiting at home to greet them and Gilbert driving around in the limo. They would find someone to take back, they would call him, he would bring the limo around, they would drop down from the rooftop and climb in, Gilbert would drive them over to their prey, they would get out and lure the poor unfortunate into the limo, they would take him home, give him a bath, a meal, and a good nights sleep, and then hypnotize him so he didn't know what was going on when they fed. Decidedly less horrifying and painful for everyone involved.
"Are you ready to go, katyonak? Dawn is only a few hours off and we still have to track down a target." Ivan said, sliding his arms around Alfred's waist. Alfred leaned back against him and shook his head.
"Not just yet, babe. Stay here with me for just a moment longer." He whispered, looking up at his lover and smiling softly. The taller vampire bent down, sealing their lips together gently. Everything about this was right, and in his heart he knew it from the way Ivan made him feel. Alfred knew he didn't have a heartbeat, but the fluttering feeling in his chest was there all the same. Like Ivan somehow brought him back to life with every kiss.
"Curiouser and Curiouser." He quipped as he pulled away.
"What?" Ivan asked, confused. He was eying him like he'd just spoken in tongues. Alfred just giggled and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.
"Don't worry about it. We gonna grab some dinner or not? We still got time to get back to the house before dawn and...you know." He purred, giving Ivan a smoldering sidelong glance as he turned away and walked off into the night with Ivan not very far behind.
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