CHAPTER 3

A/N – Hello everyone! So, this is the last of the chaps previously published and… yeah, some action ahead, you have been warned. And yeah, it's creepy, in fact creepier than you might expect, hah! ;)


"He sounds so scary," Kuzey commented, "Why did you stay?"

Alin wrapped his hoodie tighter around him and shook his head. "To be honest, I wanted to sneak out when he was at the bar, but we were neighbours and went to the same university. We were bound to run into each other again, and how could I explain that I'd ditched him?"

"So you just went along with the date?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow.

"I was waiting for him to mess up," Alin explained, grinning mischievously, "He kept making little slip ups, but I needed something big. Something that would ensure he'd know I never wanted to see him again."

"And did he mess up?" asked Peter.

"Oh yes, child one, he did. Big time."


Alin boredly read through the menu, wondering if Tsvetan expected them to order food. He'd not eaten dinner, in case the other had taken him to a restaurant, and was feeling quite peckish after a long day writing coursework. Tsvetan hadn't mentioned it though. Did he forget? Or maybe he had something else planned.

He looked over at the bar where once again, Tsvetan was talking to that scrawny auburn-haired kid that looked barely old enough to drink legally. Their conversation looked more riled this time, with Tsvetan standing further back, arms crossed defensively whilst the other shouted at him. Suddenly, he snapped, shoving the other, who slapped him across the face.

"You little bastard!" he heard Tsvetan shout as the other picked up the bottle of wine he had been drinking from.

"No, wait!"

The Romanian jumped up from his seat, desperate to break up the fight before anyone went to hospital. He pushed past tables and reached them just in time to see Tsvetan break the leg off one of the stools, readying to swing it at the boy. All around him, people were jumping to their feet, some rushing forward to break them up whilst others tried to get as far away from the commotion as possible.

"Stop it!" Alin shouted as he jumped between them. Green glass flew towards him, and the wine bottle hit his face. He fell to the floor, blood pouring out of his nose and his mouth filled with a metallic taste. Above him, Tsvetan struck the boy with the chair leg.

"Hey! Enough!"

Several bar staff and waiters dragged the fighting duo away, receiving a few punches themselves, though they finally managed to confiscate their weapons and throw them out. Alin just sat slumped against a table as guests and diners fussed over him, and someone placed a tissue to his bleeding nose. When he eventually staggered outside after the other two, he found Tsvetan wrestling the boy on the floor, throwing punch after punch at his face. He had his knees on the kid's arms, preventing him from fighting back. The boy was crying now.

"Tsvetan, please…"

His voice came out barely more than a whisper, the lump in his throat stopping him from calling out. This wasn't happening. He took a few more steps closer, wiping blood from his sore nose. "Don't… do this," he tried again. This time, Tsvetan heard him, sitting up and forgetting about his victim.

"Your face," his soft voice trembled, laced with fear and anger, "He spilled your blood." The brunet's face twisted into a vicious look of hatred, and he threw another punch at the kid. Alin realised where he knew the boy from - it was little Feliciano the art student, the friendly, delicate boy who had befriended Alin when he thought the older boy was alone.

"Tsvetan, stop!" he cried.

"But he… this bastard! He hurt you! I'll make him hurt ten times more! I'll ruin his face! I'll kill him!"

"That won't make my pain go away and you've hurt the poor boy enough, now let him go."

"But-"

"Do. It."

Alin threw him a poisonous glare, and Tsvetan nodded, gulping. He stood up slowly, giving Feliciano one last kick in the stomach as he did so. The other jumped up, running away haphazardly and clutching his mouth, crying noisily for his brothers and Grandpa.

"Well, at least he knows not to hurt you again," Tsvetan murmured smugly, but his grin was wiped off when he saw the other's expression.

"You monster," Alin hissed, "Don't you feel any shame? You could've killed him the way you were carrying on!"

"He'd have deserved it," Tsvetan shrugged.

"You started the fight! This whole thing is your fault!" Alin screamed, "I saw you! You two were just using words until you pushed him! Take responsibility!"

"For what?" Tsvetan narrowed his eyes, "Getting my own back after he hurt the person I-"

"Don't say it! Don't you dare say you love me like that'll make everything better!"

"But I do-"

"No you don't! And it doesn't matter anyway, because I hate you!"

Silence. Even the river water seemed to still.

"You… hate me?" Tsvetan looked like he'd been slapped, mouth forming an o shape, eyes wide and watery.

"Yes! I don't want anything to do with you! Just stay out of my life! If you try to contact me again, I'll… I'll fucking call the police!"


"It didn't work out like that, did it?" asked Peter with a wince.

"Oh dear God no," Alin whispered, "I was such a fool…"


Tsvetan had some serious doubts about how this vampire thing worked after all, however awkward it was for one to ask themselves such a question after being one for a few centuries already. Of course, in essence, being a vampire was a pretty simple, uncomplicated type of existence, as long as one fed discreetly, without arousing any unwanted attention. And he'd stuck to that principle just fine until now.

Normally he would just creep in the dark and grasp unsuspecting victims, a simple act of sating his hunger in which he more often than not indulged in their precious life essence to the last drop. He'd been completely unable to understand his old friend Francis, who chose to live his life in the open – as an actor no less – spreading his charms nonchalantly, shamelessly, even bothering to make his victims enjoy themselves as he preyed on them. Ridiculous, the Bulgarian had thought… until he had met Alin Radacanu.

There was something about the boy, something alluring, addictive which went past the sheer flavour of his blood, which in itself was exquisite. Had it been only the Romanian's blood he craved, things would have been fairly simple and the business closed until now. But there was more, he wanted more, so much more. But he was unable to get it, hence his accursed predicament. And Francis had not been helpful, mostly because – as the Bulgarian now realised – he had really paid no attention to the man. Vampires were naturally beautiful, naturally attractive (or rather… unnaturally so), thus why should they have to employ any courtship scheming, any flattery, any soft skills to make someone love them totally, completely?

Evidently, it didn't work that way at all, Tsvetan pondered as he stood unmoved like a statue in the darkness outside Alin's house. The flooding – oh by God that had been so stupid! – had gotten Alin to his doorstep, as planned, but from there it had all gone very wrong, culminating with the moment in which the Romanian had shoved all those terrible words in his face, despite his own pathetic vulnerability.

Poor, mindless little boy! As if you could escape me…

With somewhat of an amused sigh – now having drawn this conclusion – Tsvetan crept inside. Silly Alin, as if all the locks he'd carefully turned on his door could keep bad spirits out. The vampire advanced into the dark hallway, still smelling vaguely of damp, his footsteps light and cautious. Cautious because Alin's place was a terrible mess on a regular day (now a damp mess thanks to his machinations), but earlier the boy had come in angry and had furiously kicked various stuff in his way, causing a particularly high stash of books and literature magazines to collapse and spread all over the tiny hallway and partly into the living room.

The Bulgarian chuckled – of course. His object of interest was an artist, he would spend hours reading or writing to the point of utter oblivion, but cleaning definitely wasn't on his list. Tsvetan had discovered that even watching the boy as he went about his daily life – an unseen spectre no mortal could have ever noticed – was pleasurable to him.

For now, Alin was in the kitchen, most likely trying to get something done for dinner. The brunet wanted to kick himself so hard – if only he had taken his delectable neighbour to dinner instead of that shit bar! But that would have been a problem, since he didn't eat…. He could hear sobbing and sniffing coming out of the small kitchenette, along with the raw scent of freshly cut vegetables.

Forest green eyes swept yearningly over the delicate frame of his soon-to-be prey, whom was currently hunched over the wax cloth covered table, chopping some onions. Well, at least that explained the tears coming down his peachy cheeks – he really couldn't have been that upset. And thank God his nose bleeding had stopped, seeing all that precious blood go to waste had pushed Tsvetan past his boiling point. But ohhhh… his tears were a whole, previously undiscovered treasure! It was such a delectable, lovely sight to see the Romanian cry, even if they were fake tears really (and above all he'd not had the pleasure of being the cause of it himself).

Alin's delicate hand had a rather unsteady hold on the knife, he thought, manoeuvring the sharp blade dangerously close to his fingers as he squinted and sniffed continuously, unaware of his creepy neighbour's nose currently buried in his hair. Mmm, maybe he'll cut himself…

But maybe he had breathed out a bit too heavy, or he had let out any betraying sound (indeed the faintest moan may have left his lips), because the Romanian stopped his chopping and turned abruptly, alarmed, staring right into… well, into something he fortunately was unable to see. In this form Tsvetan had chosen (for once inspired), Alin could not see the deadly lust and hunger burning into the two green pools of poison staring at him from up close.

Oh… so very close.

Apparently, some other sound alerted the boy, for he walked further, out of the kitchen, knife still clutched in his almost shaky hand. He made his way into the living room, cautious, very nearly holding his breath as he glanced around.

"Oh, fuck that already!" Alin said out loud, the sighed tiredly, shaking his head and letting the dirty knife drop on the wooden floor with a dull clatter. Tsvetan sighed in turn, mentally noting that if this lovely boy was ever to become his vampiric child, he would have to put an end to this messy bullshit, even if he would have to beat it into him with a stick.

Tsvetan watched patiently as the Romanian dumped the leftovers of his light dinner in the trash bin and rinsed the dishes ill-humored.

Soon, very soon… my pet…

Indeed, soon enough Alin headed to his bedroom, throwing a quick glance around the crammed, equally messy space before hastily sweeping away the pile of books and course notes from his bed with a lazy movement of his arm. Gripping the edge of the bedcovers, he shook them free from the last remainder of inconvenient stuff and then plopped down and slipped between the sheets, not bothering to change from the large, sleazy t-shirt and sweatpants he'd worn all evening.

The Bulgarian leaned casually against the doorframe for now, observing as the boy settled in and considering all the layers of fabric which would need removing. Alin switched off the bedside lamp placed directly on the floor and the small room was completely engulfed in darkness. The vampire waited a little longer and to his luck, it paid off – after some tossing and turning under the thick duvet which probably provided more than enough warmth, both the sweatpants and the t-shirt were hastily thrown across the room.

And now… I order you to sleep, my precious little bunny. You will not wake up unless I tell you to.

Darkness not hindering his sight in the least – if anything only sharpening his senses – Tsvetan climbed into bed with catlike movements, hovering above the slumbering form of his prey. With the sort of excitement one would feel when unwrapping a long-awaited gift, he pulled back the covers. Why had he waited and toiled uselessly for so long, the vampire wondered, letting the velvety petals of the black rose he'd pulled out of his pocket to trail over the boy's plump lower lip and further down on his chin, following his jaw line.

His face scrunching a bit in his sleep, the Romanian tilted his head to the side, exposing the ultimate temptation to the predator before him: his bare throat. Tsvetan licked his lips, able to feel the pulse racing under the smooth pale skin. Sure, it would have been much more enticing to watch a rosy blush spreading onto the boy's cheeks as he was being pinned down on the mattress, completely in his power, maybe even to read a bit a fear in those gorgeous red eyes. But for now… well for now this would have to do. The vampire had a sudden idea (which might have spoiled everything for the future, but right now he didn't give a damn) and leaned forward, bringing his lips to Alin's ear.

"I want you to dream of me, as I'm doing this to you while you lie here helpless. I want you to dream of me as I eat you whole."

Slender fingers tangled eagerly in the sleeping boy's honey coloured hair as Tsvetan tilted his face up and pressed his lips against his mouth. The vampire's skilled tongue delved in with ease, exploring slowly and relishing in the other's taste. Fangs grazed the plump lip, just enough to draw blood, which the Bulgarian savoured with a moan.

Alin's body was deliciously warm under him - all the more since now his face was getting a bit flushed and his pulse quickened – so the cool fingers left his hair and began their exploration, trailing down the delicate line of his neck, past his collarbone and further down his body. The dark-haired young man atop him only broke the hungry kiss he was currently enjoying to pull the undershirt the Romanian was still wearing past his head and out of the way.

Eventually the Bulgarian pulled away, glancing down at the now slightly swollen lips of his prey with a satisfied smirk, before he allowed himself to go any further. Then his lips at last began exploring the desired area – the boy's fully exposed throat. He lightly bit and nipped at the sensitive skin, but no, he would not rush things, no… better leave the best thing for last. His cold nose trailed down lower on the Romanian's body, inhaling the addictive scent of young skin.

As Tsvetan pushed himself lower on the bed, his own clothing became an unbearable hindrance. Impatiently, he clawed at his shirt, discarding it carelessly. Touch me, Alin, he mentally ordered, his whole body craving the warmth of the other. But the Romanian's fingers only gripped the sheets helplessly as the vampire's mouth latched onto one of his nipples, sharp teeth teasing it mercilessly, and a choked moan escaped his lips. Soon he was panting and his back arched off the mattress, pushing himself further into his predator's mouth.

The dark-haired young man elicited a loud gasp from his prey as he went further down and his skilful tongue slipped inside the boy's navel, teasing the miniscule crevice. "T-Tsvetan… ah I can't…" Alin breathed out at last.

As tension was gradually building up in his own body, the Bulgarian advanced even lower with his ministrations and brought his hands down to rub his thumbs teasingly onto the boy's hipbones, before his mouth closed onto one of them completely, mercilessly torturing the delicate bone by licking and sucking on it painfully slow.

"No… P-please…"

The vampire smirked, even allowing himself a small chuckle as he quickly discarded his remaining clothing and pulled Alin's boxers down in one swift movement. Biting his own lip mischievously, Tsvetan gently pushed his knees apart, revealing his currently neglected but already fully erect member and pressed a soft, almost chaste kiss onto the moist tip. His tongue teased it playfully as he licked around from top to base, then grazed his teeth carefully over the tip once more before taking it into his mouth entirely. Beneath him, the Romanian was a moaning mess, instinctively bucking his hips upwards as his most vulnerable part was prey to the other's sharpest part.

Not yet, my pet…

Crawling upwards again, the Bulgarian captured his prey's mouth again, devouring it hungrily, passionately, as he reached down and grabbed the back of the boy's thighs, spreading them as far as he could. One slender leg was hooked onto his hip before he pushed himself in balls deep with one powerful thrust.

Alin cried into the kiss in protest, delicate fingers now clawing and digging into the vampire's biceps, trying to push him away, but to no avail. Tsvetan captured his hands with his own, pinning them to the sides once more as he interlaced their fingers. His kisses became less rough, almost gentle and soothing as he waited for a bit until the boy's body relaxed. He began thrusting slowly, rhythmically, in the same time planting butterfly kisses all over Alin's flushed cheeks, now wet with a mixture of sweat and tears.

"H-ah, faster… Tsvetan, faster and h-…harder!" the Romanian moaned beneath him, his voice suddenly accented, instinctively adjusting the angle of his hips as he was worked. The vampire smirked, licking the shell of his ear – only hearing Alin pronouncing his name with that accent of his was enough to send him over the edge.

"TSVETAN!"

That was it, he could help himself no longer. With a feral growl, the Bulgarian bit deep into the pulsating flesh of the boy's throat and hot blood invaded his mouth the same moment he reached his peak, prolonging it to no end. Alin cried, tossing and thrashing helplessly, but the dark-haired young man felt nothing but the blood, not knowing anything else, and not caring about anything else. He drank savagely, uncontrolled, quenching the burn in his throat, until the pleasure his body was experiencing was too much to bear and he collapsed on top of his prey, exhausted but incredibly satisfied.

Now he knew for sure – Alin Radacanu belonged with him.


"…I had a strange dream," was all Alin told the children.

"What was it about?" asked Peter curiously.

Alin faltered, looking at the three innocent faces before him. There was no way he could tell them what he'd dreamed, for even he didn't know the whole terrifying truth of what had happened. He shook his head.

"So what happened next?" asked Kuzey, not liking Alin's expression at all.

"I just sunk deeper and deeper…"

To be continued