Ed couldn't say how he knows Jerry's here. But he does. His entire body sings with it-that knowledge that Jerry's back, too. Human, too. Still in Vegas even though, God knows, sticking around next to the house that's still in repairs after he burnt it down isn't the best idea he's had in his four-hundred years. And maybe he isn't quite as alone as he thinks he is.
Ed makes his way to Jerry's house like a man possessed-one foot in front of the other in a constant rhythm so familiar he doesn't even have to think about where he's going. As if he could smell him. As if he could taste him. But he's human, so he can't-but he can. He knows, somehow. His feet take him there. And before long, he stands outside Jerry's door.
He lets himself in.
And even now, Jerry is a creature of the dark. Strong arms stretch out from the shadows, twining around Ed's waist. They reel him in, until puffs of breath fall hot on his throat. Jerry's lips drag across the bite marks and Ed cranes his neck back for him. It stings; they haven't healed. But when Jerry encases them in his mouth, it's more pleasure than pain. Ed arches, unknowingly-presses into the heat at his back. A sigh escapes his throat. Content.
"You're here." Not a question. "What did Charley say when he saw you?" Ed asks, voice hoarse. He has to force the words out, one at a time, before he forgets them and gets lost in this.
The lips leave his throat with a wet pop and he groans.
Jerry drags his cheek along the side of Ed's face-an almost loving motion. But this is Jerry. Everything about Jerry is raw animal instinct. It was when he was a vampire. It probably still is, even now.
"Nothing worth mentioning."
Jerry's hands wander, now-trailing paths up Ed's chest and across his stomach. And as familiar as it is, the touch feels... foreign without the drag of claws behind it.
Ed lets out a low chuckle that, for a second, sounds so much like Jerry's, it's uncanny. "I still can't figure out if he was ha-happy-" His voice catches when Jerry's fingers slip down to his thighs. "Happy to see me or about to kill me." Ed falls into Jerry's touches-needing this. Needing to feel wanted.
"Welcome to the club."
"So, does this make us the un-undead?"
Jerry laughs at that-low, in Ed's ear. "Yeah, I guess it does."
"Peter, what the fuck is going on?" Charley clings to the phone like a lifeline. "Jerry is outside my house, in the daytime. Ed's-Ed's... Ed's alive." The panic in his chest starts to take hold. It taints every breath until his lungs burn with it.
"Charley-Charley, calm down. Let me think for a minute."
On the other end of the phone, Charley can hear the rustle of papers: heavy thunks as leather bound books are shuffles about. Finally, a quiet "Ah" comes from Peter's end of the line.
"What? What is it?"
"Alright, alright-don't get your knickers in a knot, I think I've got it." Peter clears his throat. "The steak I gave you-the one blessed by St. Michael? It doesn't just change back the victims-it's not that simple. Depending on the manner in which it's used, the blasted thing can have all kinds of effects. My guess is, the fact that he was already on fire and in sunlight did something to change the outcome."
"But what? What did it do? What else did it do?" Charley sinks onto his chair, a heavy feeling of dread taking the place of panic.
"How the bloody hell should I know?" Peter barks before thinking. After a pause he sighs. "Look, all of this is just theory and legend. No one's actually used the thing on a vampire in ages. It's about as fucking cryptic as they come."
"Right. Right, thanks. Um, yeah. Thank you." He moves to hang up but the voice on the other end stops him.
"Oi, Charley."
"Yeah?"
"Be careful, would you? The last thing anyone needs is for you to go running headlong into something you don't understand."
"Right."
Charley pulls his hand back from what proves to be the fourth failed attempt at knocking-which may, or may not, be considered running headlong into something he doesn't understand. But this much, at least, he has to do. He fidgets in front of Ed's house, heart in his mouth, trying to feel grateful. It's just-there are all these questions getting in the way.
That night at Peter's, he thought he'd never see Ed again. And he hated himself and it hurt more than he thought he even could, but he'd resigned himself to it. It was fact, it was solid, it was truth.
And no matter which way you slice it, the last time Charley saw him, Ed was a monster. But now-out in the daylight, no fangs, no claws, no blackened eyes-what is he now? How much of the monster is left?
Just as he raises his knuckles for the fifth time, the door opens away from them. Ed stands, slung in the doorway, shoulders and hips leaned against the frame. He crosses his arms and looks Charley over and something like a smile tugs at his face.
"You just gonna stand there?" He asks.
Charley tries and fails at a response, so Ed simply sweeps out of the way and into his house, motioning for Charley to follow.
They don't talk until they're in his room, the door closed.
Ed takes the chair in the corner of the room, forcing Charley to stand awkwardly before settling with the bed. He sits as though hyper-aware of it-or rather, of the things it's used for. Swallowing, he shifts uncomfortably and looks at Ed.
Ed stares back, both blank and expectant at the same time-eyebrows lifted, eyes empty. He props his elbow up on his desk and rests his cheek on his hand.
"I..." Charley starts, desperate to break the silence but with no idea where to go. "It's good to see you. Really good. I'm just-not really sure how things are, right now. How you are. And... I mean, I'm happy you're not-you're not..." He clears his throat. "It's just, things are different, now and-"
Ed cuts him short, his voice low and without inflection.
"Have you ever thought about how good you'd taste?"
A shiver drops down Charley's spine. "I-what?"
"I have. I always have-although." He stops to quirk his head in thought. "Before Jerry turned me, it was a little less literally."
Charley doesn't know what to say. But he knows every nerve in his body is telling him to run. Because this-whatever it is he's looking at-this isn't Ed.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" Ed continues, still calm, still seated. "All these years and you really never figured it out? Really? You're telling me it had to get to the point where I literallywanted to eat you, before you got a clue?"
There's a lump in Charley's throat he can't seem to swallow. Ed gets to his feet and Charley recoils, pressing himself against the wall.
"Oh yeah," Ed says, advancing forward. His voice is still calm and even, as though the things he's saying are the most natural in the world. "Yeah, I wanted to eat you. One piece at a time." When he gets close, he crawls onto the bed, straddling Charley's lap-capturing the sides of his face and making Charley look at him.
"I'd have started with your hands, I think." He grabs them as he narrates, bringing them close to his mouth. Charley's breath hitches and he can't quite figure out if it's pleasure or fear that draws it out.
"Your thumb." He nips it. "Forefinger. Middle. Ring. Pinky. Your palms." He looks up from Charley's hands and meets his gaze. "Then your ears." He bites at one in demonstration. "And your shoulders-god, your shoulders." He traces them in kisses-turned-love-bites, leaving hickeys as he goes.
Charley fights to speak, but there's no air in his lungs. His chest jumps in quick spikes of breath that fuel his fear. His arousal. Because Ed's mouth is on him, and Ed's so close. So hot where their bodies touch-not enough. And so much the predator, even human as he is.
"I'd have licked your thighs," he groans in Charley's ear, "Tasted-but no bites." His hands plunge to the space between them, clutching and massaging at the parts of Charley's thighs he can reach. Charley bucks up into it without thinking, so that they grind together for just a second of ungodly heat.
"And your cock?" It twitches at it's mention, as if in response. "That, I'd have bitten. Teeth, but no blood."
Charley's entire body shudders. He throws his head back and closes his eyes, and he's way too far past terrified to be this hard.
"I wanted to make you come apart-literally come apart. For everything you've done to me. And I'd save your neck for last." He pulls in close, so that when he speaks, his lips brush Charley's throat with each word. He holds Charley there with a tender hand at his neck, brushing back and forth against the skin, wandering up into Charley's hairline. "And I'd put you back together again." He sinks his teeth into Charley's throat.
And even though they're human teeth, even though no blood is drawn, even though it barely even hurts, Charley arches into it with a moan.
He falls backward-or maybe Ed pushes him. All he knows is that suddenly Ed's above him, lips pulled back in an inhumanly human grin.
"Never pinned you for having a vamp kink, Brewster." Ed grins.
"You smell like him." Ed's probably not imagining that it sounds like a snarl.
Ed glares back, unimpressed. "We talked. I took what I wanted. You're the one who taught me to stop asking for permission."
There's a moment where the fury in Jerry's eyes flares so strong, Ed waits for the black to flood in behind. But nothing happens. Jerry's human now-just like everyone else. When he calms, a tight sort of smile pinches his face.
He shakes his head. "He dropped you once, kid. He'll drop you again. It'll be worse, this time."
Ed raises an eyebrow and pushes off the wall. He comes to stand in front of Jerry, toe to toe, so he's inches away. "What, are you... jealous?" His draws his fingers across Jerry's chest, taunting.
Jerry snorts. "Of a child who can't stand on his feet long enough to walk out of the closet? Please." His looks softens to something almost affectionate. Always almost.
"Besides," he says. His fingers reach out to caress the healing punctures at Ed's throat. "He'll never know what that felt like. Which means he'll always be a few steps behind."
