a/n:
also crossposted to tumblr
um, hi?
/throws then flees/
Then Again, We Aren't Really Human
It starts when Matthew meets Arthur.
The former is sitting at the park, immersed in a book while waiting for Alfred to arrive so he could finally take him out on their first date in weeks, and the latter watches him quietly from afar, emerald flashing to crimson briefly as he catches a whiff of Matthew's scent.
Arthur didn't think a human could smell so delicious.
The sky is beginning to darken, and the park seems empty besides them two.
So Arthur finally decides to approach the human. He slides onto the bench next to him. He asks, flashing him an easy smile, "Got stood up, love?"
Matthew startles, glancing at the newcomer with surprised indigo eyes. "N-No?" he says, more of a question than an answer, but it's a little hard to speak when Arthur is smiling at him like that.
The man's presence is very unnerving.
"Hm, really?" Arthur presses on. "You've been here for quite some time. Or did you not notice?"
Matthew glances down at his watch and, for the first time, notices that it has been half an hour since he first came here. He isn't surprised that Alfred is late, but he wants his boyfriend to arrive already. And no, it isn't because he's a little intimidated by this stranger at the moment, who looks rather harmless. Of course not.
"I'm just..." It takes a few seconds to garner the right words to reply without revealing too much. Whether this man appeared harmless or not, Matthew can't help but feel that something is wrong, "...reading."
"I see. My name is Arthur, by the way- Arthur Kirkland. May I have yours, perchance?"
"Matthew." It escapes his lips without his permission. "I'm Matthew."
And that's when he realizes that Arthur's teeth are just a little too-
"Is something the matter, love?" The smile widens, revealing two rows of gleaming white teeth.
-sharp.
"Of course not," Matthew answers, forcing himself to smile back and keep his composure. Alfred has told him numerous times about how vampires worked - how they could hurt him, try to take him away from Alfred; that if Matthew thought the werewolves were harsh, then the vampires were worse tenfold.
The only color that he sees in the Arthur's eyes is green, but he has no doubt that they can gleam red just as naturally.
He slides his book shut - Interview with the Vampire, ironically - and stands. "Thank you for reminding me of the time, though!" he says with a nervous chuckle. "I didn't realize it was getting so late."
He turns and starts walking away, back in the direction of his apartment. He wills himself not to look back, not to turn and see that wide, supposedly guileless smile, not to sign his own death contract.
Matthew has taken a good seven steps away when a hand comes down on his shoulder - and suddenly, he can't move.
"It is rather late, isn't it?" whispers a smooth voice into his ear. He faintly recognizes it as the voice of the Englishman, but things are becoming hard to tell. "Why don't I accompany you home, love?
He feels a hand brushing his hair to the side, and then lips brush against his bared neck.
"I wouldn't want someone so darling as you to get-"
Matthew's eyes flutter shut, a slight shudder running up his spine as the melodic request begins to sound more and more appealing by the second.
"-hurt."
And that does it, the last word murmured low and dark against his skin, and Matthew parts his lips, ready to say yes, ready to let himself be taken away, ready to succumb to that strange, unknown feeling growing within him-
He feels something on his neck, sharp enough to break skin if enough pressure is applied, and oddly, he can't find the will to fight it.
And then, when he's sure that the vampire is about to sink his fangs into his neck, he hears: "Oh, you have been claimed by Alfred?"
Just like that, the pressure is gone.
Matthew lets out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, his eyes blinking open as the haze clears. The gravity of the situation finally falls on him and the panic begins to settle in.
"And speak the truth, please," adds Arthur.
And the haziness returns. Matthew feels dizzy, but he manages to say, "Yes. I was actually planning to meet him here tonight..."
Arthur steps around him so that they're standing face-to-face. "I had a feeling you were lying to me." He clicks his tongue, almost disapprovingly, but his smile never once falters. "However, I'm willing to let it slide." His eyes flash. "I can bet that you're growing tired of Alfred's antics, aren't you, Matthew?"
"No." Matthew shakes his head solemnly. The words are now tumbling out of his mouth with no hesitation, as if all of his self-control had been magicked away. "Alfred already sacrifices so much for me, so it never really bothers-"
He stops when he feels a hand, surprisingly cold, cupping his cheek. "Did I not tell you to speak the truth?" asks Arthur softly, but his gaze is steely.
Matthew closes his eyes, as if expecting Arthur to disappear when he looks again. "Yes, I do. Sometimes." He opens his eyes. Arthur is still there.
"I would take so much better care of you, you know that, love?" Arthur leans in, and Matthew knows he should be pushing him away, but his arms are like lead at his sides and he can't help but seek more of the touch.
And his silent wish is granted.
Arthur presses his lips against his, and the kiss is gentle, surprisingly so, almost tender. "All you need to do," he continues softly, speaking into the kiss, "is give yourself to me."
"Yes," Matthew assents in a breathy whisper. His arms finally move, but it isn't to push the vampire away - he wraps them around Arthur's shoulders and pulls him closer. "Yes, please."
That last word drips with desperation.
He feels Arthur smile triumphantly against his lips. What are you doing? asks a small voice in the back of Matthew's thoughts, but all care has fled him, and all he wants is more.
"Lovely." Arthur pulls away, to Matthew's disappointment, and moves lower until his face is buried into the crook of his neck. "Just stay still, dearest, this will only hurt a little."
And Matthew thinks Arthur really would have bitten him and he would really have let him, if not for a third party suddenly yanking the other man away.
Matthew's eyes snap open and he stumbles backwards as he mind abruptly clears.
A few seconds later, his eyes register the sight of Arthur holding a hand to a bloody cheek, and Alfred standing in front of him, his fingertips dripping blood.
(Matthew can imagine the claws that must have been there when he attacked.)
"Get the hell away from him," Alfred snarls, and though he isn't facing Matthew, he can easily imagine the wild, feral look on his face. "He's mine."
"How uncouth," returns Arthur in a calmer voice, rolling his crimson red eyes. "Unfortunately for you, he has renounced himself from you...and given himself to me."
Alfred whirls around in an instant, expression a mixture of anger, bewilderment, and hurt.
"No I didn't," Matthew protests, but then Arthur appears beside him.
"It was nice to see you again, old friend," he tells Alfred with that same sickeningly sweet smile.
Then he intertwines his fingers with Matthew's and they both disappear.
