Hey guys, what's up? Probably alot; but I hope you all have some time in your busy schedules to read another of my fan fics. The creative juices have been flowing, and for some reason I want to write vampire oneshots with the boys. Two for Kendall/James and two for Carlos/Logan. I'm still working on my Ice Cream oneshots, but this was to good to pass up. I've decided on doing them to the elements to represent each boys respective power, and each will have a turn being the vampire or the human in my four stories. They will be well paced oneshots. And it'll be enough to make you sweat ;), if you know what I mean.
Fire
This was the usual scene on weekends, the club filled to the brim with the sensual movement of satutesque blondes and sultry brunettes, with gems for eyes and clothes that might as well be intangible since they aren't leaving too much to the imagination. Their glittering heels clicked in rythm to the beat weaving its way through the club in a dance with the opalescent smoke that wafted through the air. The men's eyes roamed over their bodies with one thing ever present on their minds. The brave ones stepped up and vied for a sensuous dance with one of the vixens.
They gyrate, willingly thrusting themselves into compromising positions, grinding on each other in grotesque displays of candid mocking affection. Drinks tease the senses, imparing judgement and freeing the trapped spirit of degradation inside. The sweet exlirs that forces an out of body experience freeing the user of from pain and otherwise any form of thought. No one cares for the bad, here... here they can just do whatever they feel. No rules, no self-imposed guidelines, just them and the music.
Sex starved and hungry for self-destruction, people dress themselves in too tight skirts and baggy jeans, clothed in their best only to act their worse. Fights over women who'd sooner use you up and throw you away then give herself to either of the brawiling parties insue. There is never a winner, because the prize to be won has often been swept up by another in the chaos. He's better looking anyway, and she's there to have the best night of her life, though in the morning she will regret every kiss, every moan, and every sigh she made for that bastard when he leaves her broken and takes a piece of her soul with him.
So is the human condition, no more than animals in bouts of urgent, live for the moment tendencies. They are dying, subjecting themselves to the rush of adrenaline so pure and addicting it's sinful. They don't think, they do; they don't formulate plans, they charge in head first with no thought to the possible consequences. That process only leads further into a coma of their species. That is the human condition, and in this world of flashing lights, and desperate women; in this world of music with no real quality and substance, there exists nothing but that rush.
A world untouched by the mundane problems of life. Inhibitions are shed, while they plunge head first into the wild side. There are no thoughts, no qualms, no hesitation. The diteriorating nature of man at its finest took place in this cesspool of potential murders and rapists in the guise of a good natured being wanting to have good time. They hide their intentions with their smile, slipping rufillin in a clueless woman's drink or discreetly loom over her to take pictures of her most intimate places and throw them to the world. Yes; too wrapped in this world of misdeeds to see that humanity was suffering. Too distracted to notice that one of their own was dying just beyond the gottily decorated walls. Which was good for me.
The screams died on her lips, swallowed by the muffled thumpimg of the music radiating through the walls. Her remaining hand desperately clinging to my form, trying to pry me from her neck which I had brutally buried my fangs into. The scarlet exlir, ran down my parched throat, thoroughly coating my tongue with the metallic taste I had so craved. Her body slumped forward, signifying she had reached her end and I tore my fangs from the now useless corpse watching it fall to the unforgiving concrete.
A smirk graced my features, she had been too easy to lure in, too easy to coax into the alley with no lights and no way to see anything that transpired. Oh, she was so delicious when she screamed, a memory forever burned perfectly in my unaging mind.
Her eyes had been dark with lust, thinking she was probably going to have her sexual fantasies tickled, especially with the outfit she had wore. Imagine, if you will, a white leather jacket stopping midriff and showing off a toned stomach and barely keeping her breasts in, which gave you a view of her lacey white bra; with a skirt of the same material, ending just below the supple curve of her bottom and melting into a pair of ivory fishnets. If I was human, I'd be sweating. Fiery red curls twisted onto a perfectly manicured finger while she popped her gum and asked my name, looking expectantly with her violet colored irises.
Of course, being the gentleman I am, I didn't tell her and pinned her to the wall with all of my unnatural force, clasping a hand over her clownish lips. The fear in her eyes deeepened my appitite, making the fangs lengthen in my mouth. She tried to reach in her vest for something, to bad her hand never got there. The apendage was crushed in my grasp, and ripped off, tearing the skin and outlining the stump in a bloody scarlet. The shriek was muffled, tears poured from her eyes leaving transluscent trails over her cheeks. Truly a beautiful meal.
Her blood had the most intoxicating scent, calling to me, making pure arousal go shuddering through me as my eyes flamed the deepest burgundy. The vanilla aroma caressed my senses as I pratically salivated over the vein in her neck, barely remembering the hand in my possession.
Slowly I brought the severed palm to my lips, and made her watch as I licked the rivlets of crimson life from the fingertips. I could see her gaze burn into my movements, watching my tongue rove over her the acryllic nails tackily painted with white and silver stars. I wanted to lap up every bit of the cooling blood on the dying flesh, enjoying the sadistic torture I was putting this whore through. I revelled in the sheer terror exuding form her emotionally scared being. I loved making her watch me bite into something that used to be a part of her. I laughed when she whimpered, pleading to be let go.
One bite and a finger was plunged into my waiting mouth, blood painting my lips. My teeth scraped against the bones and joints, an unpleasant cruching sound reaching my sensitive ears. I spat it out, gazing in amusement as it flew directly into her eye, and she screamed. Another bite and another, until it was gone and the bones were littered on the ground all around us.
"Now what was so important for you to get." My free hand trailed up her side, in what could be considered a loving touch. My fingers ghosted over her breast, before latching around the fabric of her jacket, nails flush against her porcelian flesh and grazing over the shell of her bra. Despite herself, she shuddered leaning into my hand, the slut. I dove deeper into the mounds clad in snowy white lace , and pulled out a switch blade folded neatly into its container.
"Ah... were you going to cut me, you little bitch? How about I return the favor?" I whispered in her ear before unseathing the smooth, silvery weapon, appraising it in glorious silence. The bitch's cries had ceased when the knife opened in the forefront of her vision. Fear present in those umber orbs, the threat I issued no doubt rattling around inside her pysche.
I am not one to make idol threats, so me doing what I do best, cut arcoss the pale flesh and wached as my sustenance filled the wound. Immediately my head was at her bosom, suckling the blood like a newborn babe. The vanilla scent was now a taste tangible on my tongue, and I wanted more. My teeth ripped off chucks of flesh, casuing my meal to panic in earnest, her body convusling rapidly with tremors of anguish. She was mumbling prayers into my palm, hoping that God would save her. It's funny how every one of these mortals suddenly become religious in the midst of death.
My free hand, armed with the minisule dagger, made more cuts and gashes in places were I could reach. I suckled those too, draining inexplicable amounts of my dinner until I was sick of these small doses.
By now her cries and pleas had transformed into hysterical shrieks compressed to her lips by my fingers. The nameless wench struggled against me in vain, her good arm flailing around restlessly. This bitch was growing annoying, it was time to end this shit.
A devious smile spread over my face, fangs illuminated by the light of the ironically full moon. Their glint reflected in her pupil, before I struck. Fangs ripped into the soft flesh and ended her... the slow and painful way.
I remember every scream and desperate movement she had mad before I shoved her to the ground.
I was caught in the body's line of sight as the head lulled to the side, a cold lifeless stare of pale brown, as it glazed over with death. Now to get rid of the evidence. With just a flick of the wrist the cadaver was eveloped in a fiery chrysalis of orangey yellow flames (AN: Vampire Knight). Its metamorphasis into an ashen butterfly was fairly rapid, as the skin melted and bones popped and crackled with the fire. The stench of burning leather hit my nose all to quickly, causing me to cringe slightly, but I held fast until the flames sputtered and died out with nothing left to burn. I was sure she wouldn't be missed; her buddies clad in simillar alluring outfits differing only in color were so fucking high they probably wouldn't recall their own names, let alone where the fuck this bitch went.
It had been exhilerating, the thrill of the kill, but now disappointment settled in. These humans were drowning and wallowing in self-annihilation, really no more than animals and prey to be consumed by my kind. That's why that woman desreved to die, she had nothing to offer this world except her skankery. If she had been worthwhile I would've let her live; maybe if she was presented to me as a doctor she'd still be breathing. Yet I couldn't help but be jealous of these proverbial sheep and chickens running about without a head, because even with their dwindling condition, they managed to have companions, to have people who would be there for them.
I couldn't find that in anyone of my kind. Vampires were lonely creatures because of the simple rule that two beings of power cannot share the same space, unless limbs are lost and someone is made to submit. We don't submit, we never submit, so in order keep peace, we stayed out of each others way. But begruding respect could never amount to anything more than giving me an inflated ego, it was not a friend. I may be cold, I may be sadistic, and my heart may not beat, but I still feel loneliness in my darkened soul, I still have feelings. I didn't like being alone. But in places like this, that's all I was granted... solitude.
The headless fowl pass me by, savoring their friends and destructive ways, wrapped in themselves for a partial eternity. If only one would look my way, if only one was different from the cattle, and showed a fucking ounce of intelligence and awareness... I would ravage them and make them mine until the world ends, and we'd still be the same age.
But that was hoping for too much, and putting too much faith in these formless creatures who show you their emotions on their sleeves and don't have any deminsion. They're just cardboard cutouts, going through life, getting older and eventually dying. None of them would be able to please me mentally, none.
A sigh heaved itself from my lips, and I looked to the stars, trying to find them in the L.A. fog, only to come up empty handed... much like my own life. Maybe some dancing would get my mind off of this horrible pain I felt, that would only ripen over an eternity.
Strolling out of the alley, I walked, unhindered, into the club right next to my recent kill. I reigned myself to watch the women tease the men in doing something to show them how much they wanted to fuck them; and when they finally do what they're supposed to, for some reason the women are apalled. These antics amused me, but only amused me, it did nothing for me emotionally. Though it was a lost cause, I was begging to find someone, anyone that wasn't like these slobs. Part of me still wanted to hold onto a futile dream, the human in me that never really died. It gave me the ability to hope and to pray, something rare in my kind that made me all the more greater. I could care... and yet I had nothing to care for.
My eyes roved over the faceless men and women, hoping one of them would prove me wrong, any one of them. Maybe God heard the prayers of a damned soul that night, or I was just fucking lucky; it was probably the latter, but hell, one of those faces took on an apathetic hue, something I had not seen in the midst of locations like this before. Everyone always seemed ready to lose themselves, but this boy seemed to do the opposite.
Intrigued, I made my way to this boy, drinking him in as I sat close enough to see him, but far enough to not look suspicious. With my sight, I could see him as though he was right next to me. I don't what it was that made him turn to face me and lock his hazel orbs to mine and reflect my own interest back at me, but it gave me a better outlook when I began to survey him and his attire.
He wasn't clad in some outrageously colorful garb, nor was he bent on trying to impress anyone by overdressing and hurting my eyes. He was comfortable, not drowning in cologne or supossedly high quality clothing that didn't look right on him. I only detected a slight heady scent of cinnamon musk, and he was dressed in a simple black V-neck and navy blue jeans that weren't too tight and cutting off his circulation, but also weren't sagging and giving me a excellent veiw of his boxers.
He face wasn't overcast with a hint of alcohol either, he looked utterly sober and had no blemishes marring his face at all. That meant he wasn't a seasoned bar fighter like most in here. His hazel eyes were as focused as mine, taking me in with the same scrutinizing gaze I held. I could see the hues of gold and brown blending seemlessly together like a precious amber stone. His pupil did not read as the standard black, but a deep chocolate like tree bark, and I made a note it was beautifully surprising. His nose was straight, yet blunt near the end, reminescent of the aristocrats of old; his lips straight and slightly pouty in a way, with a slight dimple in his chin. Somehow he possessed the masculinity of any man, as he was strong, padded with lean muscle, and he still held a feminine streak with his lithe, lean body. I may have mistaken him for another vampire, if I couldn't smell his blood and hear the beat of his heart.
He seemed to take pride in his appearance, as his dark auburn locks were meticulously styled, the strands cut and in immaculent bangs slightly shielding his eyes. I picked up on the sandy highlights natural lining his locks that grazed his chin. These bimbos and meatheads didn't have a natural bone in their bodies; phonies, all of them, that wore extensions and botched dye jobs; but he... he was real, a conculsion I reached after studying him.
It seemed he reached a similar end, because he smiled one of those bright, kilowatt smiles that are only given in moments of rarity, in essence inviting me to come a sit near him.
Of course, I did, finding him even more breath taking up close, what with the freckles precariously dotting his nose in an adorable heart shape.
"Hi. I'm James." His voice was a deep, rich soprano the didn't grate my ears and make me want to claw his throat out. It was hinted with an Minnesota accent that drove me wild on the inside while I struggled to keep composure in front of him. Since when could a human do this to me?
"Kendall." He smiled again, appraising me once again.
"You have pretty eyes." It had been so long since I had seen my eyes last, I had no idea what I looked liked. I knew my hair was a tarnished gold, or dirty blonde as these mortals called it, and I was handsome based on the reactions I had gotten, but other than that I had no idea what I looked like. So I said the only thing I could in a situation like this, even though I was used to it when others said it to me.
"Thank you."
"I really mean it. They're like an impossible shade of green, perfect in a way. Most people have bits of brown and blue, but not yours. They're perfect, just different shades all mixed together. Your eyes remind me of jade."
That was new. Usually humans stopped at 'you have pretty eyes,' but he... had depth. He actually looked at them, and took them in. Because of him I now had some idea as to what they looked like, hell I knew what color they were. He had no idea how important that was to me, to have some clue to what I look like after years of trying and coming up blank, after years of having forgotten.
I felt myself genuinely smile, letting my flirtacious side take hold of me. "What else do you like about me James?"
"Well," he intentionally leaned toward me, trapping my gaze with his, "you're different."
"Elaborate."
"For one, you just used a four syallble word, and for two... you're not some drunken bastard all over some chick thinking he's about to get lucky. Plus, I like you hair. You must take good of it for it to naturally be that way and color. Everyone's hair in here is either from a horse or fucked beyond repair." He laughed at that and I found myself in awe of melodious way it sounded, and the fact that he just said everything I was feeling earlier. For once in my life, I felt understoood... and by a human no less. Not even my brothers and sisters of the night understood my thought process and emotional turmoil. It felt so good to have someone, how do you say, get me.
"I'm not sure what it looks like, I rushed out of my apartment so fast I didn't get a good look." I was fishing for compliments, it was just too good to pass up. I could piece together my apperance from what he said.
"I'm not sure how you got it that color, but it's this cool honey blonde and in a badboy cut. It's spikey but controled, like an edgey bowl cut, which you don't see often. It's interesting and... I want... Can I... ?"
"Can you what?"
"Can I touch it?" My eyebrow arched imperceptibly, which he saw and continued, "it looks soft... and I pretty fucking positive it won't come out if I tug on it like some of the people's in here." That got to me, and a boisterous laugh erupted from my belly. He chuckled along with me.
"So... can I?"
"Go right ahead." No sooner had the words left me, his hand was in my hair, tugging it cautiously and gently. Soft, comfortable wisps here and there. It was soothing, I had no idea these creatures could touch things with no ill intent, and yet, here was James, something that had swam beneath my radar until this point. Where he fuck had he been?
Whispers were carried through the air, tickling my ears with his sweet nothings, "It's so soft." He pulled away, reluctance lacing his movements, his vision lingering on my silken strands.
I was overcome with the urge to run my hands along his cheeks and through his hair. "Can I touch yours ?"
He spoke no words, but just leaned toward me, a silent invitation. So I let my fingers twist themselves around his locks, curling them softly. His hair was like cashmere, delicate and silky. I was lost in the auburn color and the feel of his hair in my hands. Low mewls escaped him, eyes closed and he leaned even more towards me, quietly begging for more. I let my nails scrape his scalp, making more of those mewls tear from his juicy looking lips. I had to stop myself before I jumped him, and ravished him right there and then. Not that anyone would have noticed or cared.
He leaned away and looked at me again, eyes cloudy and lustful, a very good look I must say. He leaned in again, lips ready and wanting, those hazel orbs half-lidded and I leaned in too, the look of affection mirrored on my face. Our lips molded together, an inexpilcable sensation running through me akin to electrictiy. He was so close, I could taste him, that cinnamon scent all over my mouth, bloodlust rising. It could hear my means of life rushing to his lips as they started to swell due to my bruising kisses. The beast in me awoke and commaded that I taste him when the kiss grew more heated. My fangs made themselves known, piercing the vulnerable skin, drawing blood.
James drew back sharply, lip tucked in his mouth, eyes boring into me and I savored him. God he tasted so good, better than any other member of his species that I've had the mispleasure of tasting, a cinnamon fire on my tongue and going down my throat. I wanted more, but one fleeting glance to his face, and I surpressed my urges. I didn't want to scare him away, if I lost him, I knew I would never find someone like him in this generation. I didn't want to wait another twenty five years or a century to find somone like him. I didn't want to stay alone.
"I'm sorry."
"You bit me." The statement rang in my ears. Why wasn't he disgusted, why wasn't he enraged and walking away from me? James just sat there, staring at me with wide eyes, more interested than anything, and by the gestures under his skin I could tell his tongue was continuously running over his lip.
"Again, I'm sorry." I stared back at him, hoping he wouldn't push me away.
"I didn't say I was mad. Shocked is more like it." And blushed tinted his features red and I groaned want to dip my tongue into the flesh of his cheeks where that cinnamon beverage pooled, "I actually liked it."
"Y-You did?"
"Yeah... but why'd you do it?" For some sick and twisted reason. I was compelled to tell him the truth. Honesty was not the way of the vampire, we were deceiving, conniving creatures of the night. We used our wiles to get our riches, our influence, why do you think we glamoured people? But I wanted to be honest with him... so I told him.
"I like blood James."
"I got that, but why Kendall?" That did it. James said my name for the first time, whispering it like a sin, like ecstasy.
"I'm a vampire." I waited for the disbelieving stare, the words of denial, but they didn't come. He just took in the information, letting it seep through him, before finally saying something in response.
"Is that true, I mean I know you guys came out on the news (AN: True Blood), but I want to be sure. I want to know you're telling me the truth... So is it the truth?"
"Yes." I had expected James to run, or laugh, or something other than what he did. His mouth released its grip on his lip, still torn and bleeding. He lifted a delicate finger to it, coating it in blood then holding it out to me, a welcoming gesture if I ever saw one.
"You...believe me?" A solemn nod was his answer, still holding his hand to me. I took it in my grasp, the red substance gleaming up at me, calling to me, the cinnamon still on my buds. I wanted it, I needed it, so I fucking took it. My tongue flicked against the digit, bloodlust over taking my eyes. I made sure to make him look at my eyes, the green dominated by the red, and smirked in satisfaction when I heard him gasp. Now I was sure he knew what he was dealing with and that he believed me without a doubt. I returned to licking his nail, intent on getting all of his blood off his finger. I took the whole thing in mouth, sucking and twisting my wet muscle around it. James was moaning, caught up in the rush, my smirk widened. Unfortunately I had to stop, I had exhausted the supply he'd given me, and he whimpered.
"Why'd you stop?"
"No more blood."
He grinned, "If you want more, give me your number."
"I can do that."
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Nights passed by, filled with his auburn hair, his hazel irises, and harmonious laughter. Each day left me in rapture of his calm nature, his easy going personality, and shy kisses. They were gifts to me, a muderous creature who surely did not deserve them or something even remotely close with all the crimes I've commited. Each day was something I treasured, and I found it laughable that I once believed that I would never find anyone I would want to spend an eternity with.
And James, he loved it. To him, I was uncharted territory, and someone to show everything to. He showed me the gentleness and creativity of humankind. He gave to the sick and the homeless, smiling the whole time. I watched him on days where the blazing sun was weak, hidden behind clouds. He would give his shirt to some poor urchin in tattered clothes or buy some starving babe something to eat.
I couldn't fathom how someone could be so willing to give, so willing to do for others. I had looked out for myself for so long I had forgotten what it had felt like to give, instead of take. I had the power to get whatever the fuck I wanted, so why did I need to give. But he showed me what it meant to bring joy to others, and as strange as it was, I wanted to see him happy. But that want, that desire to see him happy morphed into genuine concern for those less fortunate.
He never appeared to be doing nice things to futher his status or for personal gain, he just wanted to see them smile. He could have easily been concieted and dim-witted, relying on his looks to get him by. But he never did. Never had he had an ulterior motive, never had he wanted to receive some reward for his good deeds, and that in itself turned me on to no end. Humanity could be salvaged. Too bad I was going to take him and introduce him to the ways of the vampire.
This night, filled with the stars that were covered by the smog, yet somehow retaining it's beauty, was the night James was to become my eternity, my forever. There was no way I would let him suffer and grow old, I couldn't lose him, not now. He had showed me how it took more strength to give and create, than to take and destroy. He had shown me the humanity had a heart, that beneath the self-annihilating exterior was a pure soul, that humans were innately good.
We were at his apartment, the only time I'd ever been, and I took in the sights of his home. The walls were painted a nice green color, like my eyes I suppose, since he said he recently redid them. I wonder why. He was a true artist, drawing red flames on the wall making them pop against the verdant walls, and had an eye for fine furniture as well, a plush suede couch of brown like his eyes coaxed me to sit. No distracting television, just books. If possible, I loved him even more.
Taking a seat next to me, James laid himself on my waiting chest, arms raised with a hand in my hair- that boy just loved my hair, while I traced circles on his chest. I looked on his neck, seeing the fading scars that reminded me of the heated, passionate make-out sessions that lead to him begging me to bite him. James was a sadist, even if he didn't show it to the world. He loved the feel of my teeth buried in his flesh; he may have been sweet, but he was almost mildly deranged. I chuckled.
"What?"
"You sadal masochist." I made his face flush with color, before he turned to and slapped me across my abdomen.
"Just because it's true doesn't mean you get to say it." Again I laughed in a way that only he could get out of me. James made me feel in tune with my emotions, I could understand what it meant to laugh and cry again. Now do you see why I wanted him by my side. His innocence would never be tainted by the blood he would have to shed to survive. We talked about this before, how he would be as a vampire.
He had said he would never kill, only take enough to live. I had never given that a thought at all. I always killed my prey, but these past months I developed an appreciation for human life because I was with him. He made me think about how good it would feel to be spare someone. I had spared him, when I could have easily obliterated every fiber of his being with my flames.
James told me he would not kill, he wouldn't lose what made him human. And I didn't want him to, I had fallen in love with those qualities. The kindness, the gentleness, I prayed he would not lose them. He promised he wouldn't, he would always be the James I loved. So we planned this night, and now it was time.
"Are you ready?"
"Kendall... I want to be with you... forever."
And with that I leaned my head down to kiss him, giving it all of my power. My tongue touched the expanse of his mouth, relishing the cinnamon flavor I had fallen in love with. I tore at his lips, drawing blood and revelled in the sound of his breath hitching. My hand grasped the hem of his shirt and yanked it up, exposing all of that tanned flesh. My eyes drank in the contours of his defined torso, making him smirk.
"Like what you see?" His arrogance turned me on, I hadn't been witness to it before. I kissed him roughly, tugging at his already abused lips and drinking his blood. He groaned in euphoria, hands trialing up my body and ripping my shirt off with such force he surprised me. James let himself explore every part of me, hands grazing over the denim of my jeans. while mine dug into his back. I removed myself his lips, going to his neck, nibbling on the vein pulsating below. My eyes flamed red, but I kept my composure. Not yet, not until you have his virginity.
I could do that, I reassured myself I could, though I had never been good with paitence and I found myself ripping off his jeans and boxers, exposing himself to me. The pre-cum leaked through the head, desperately shouting for me to lap it all up to which I complied. I took him in, boobing up and down with furious speed, making him arch into me in fevered thursts. My teeth scraped over the bulginging veins, pleasure coursing through his form. He pushed my head down, causing me to take all out him in, while I still dug my fingers into his back, blood spilling over my fingertips.
James was screaming my name to the heavens, uncaring of his neighbors or their sleeping habits. He was with me and that's all that mattered. He came hard, spilling his seed into me, and I swallowed it all, licking him clean. He was sputtering, trying in vain to caught his breathe. He looked so peaceful, and ready for me to mark.
An idea ran through my head, and I watched the tip of my finger burst into flame. I kissed him deeply to distract him from what I was planning to do, and let my flaming digit run over his left pectoral muscle, shaping the charred skin into what I desired. He shrieked into my mouth and held onto me. I left his lips to look at my masterpiece, a calligraphy 'K' below his nipple burned into his flesh. He looked down too and grinned, before claiming my mouth with his in an earnest, loving kiss. That mark would never fade, as it was made when he was human, so it would carry over into his new life.
"Take me now." That was all I needed before I laid him down to take off my pants and underwear. He stared all me, in all my naked glory, before I made him turn over. I let my hand trail in the blood, then inserted a crimson covered finger into his enterance. I heard James gasp in pain and told him it would be alright, it wouldn't hurt long. He only whimpered and told me to move my hand.
I started out slow, a steady movement then sped up adding another cool digit in to him and another. Three finger went back a forth inside him, and when he was ready to cum all over again I stopped.
I hadn't seen James angry until the moment I did that, he whipped his head around, glaring fiercely at me. His eyes told me I'd better have a good reason for stopping. I just grinned and pressed myself into him, smriking when all the anger melted away and his face transformed into one of pure bliss. I pounded into the already lubricated hole, and went as fast as I could. James was bucking into me, matching my pace. I grabbed his member, making him cum once more all over his couch.
I pulled out and watched him plop onto the cushions. Now. My fangs ran over his neck, and in one furious clamp I piercing his jugular. I sucked all of that sweet, cinnamon drug out of him, until he was pale, having to force myself not to drain him dry. He looked so weak and beautiful then, a broken angel if I'd ever saw one. I bit my wrist, watching if fill with blood that was darker, blacker than his. I held him to me and made him drink my blood down, when he latched on I wasn't expecting it.
He sucked and drained the blood from the wound, and I had to make him stop. I shoved him down, feeling a slight light-headed pain take over for an instant, only to remember James and the pain that would be coming.
I looked at him, his breathing was slowing, and I was sure his heart was stopping simultaneously.
He screamed suddenly, changing, and I could only hope he would retain who he was through this whole ordeal. He convulsed and spasmed, (AN: Interveiw with a Vampire) his skin paling, but some how staying tanner than my own, fangs growing in his mouth. His eyes turned to more of a gold color, and his nails lengthened slightly. His mane sheened darkly, still the heady umber but of finer quality. Muscle became dense and stronger, yet stayed lean and lithe. Though it felt like forever, he calmed down and looked at me, a new James to be at my side.
He sat up and scooted closer to me, and I watched him. He smiled, amd I knew he was still my James, my innocent James. That smile was not tainted by the power, it was still as sweet and inviting as ever, and I knew he would always be mine.
Forever.
I hope you all got the references to Interveiw with a Vampire when James changed and Vampire Kinght when Kendall used his powers, plus the True Blood reference when James said they'd come out over the news. Read and Reveiw
bLu3-Ph30nIx :3