"Of course you need me, Michael." And it felt a little awkward saying it out loud.

Sure, the kid was going to be dependent on him for blood from now on. It wasn't really all that big of a deal eating for two. David had been dizzy a few times thus far, and it was true he was never completely satisfied, but what was satisfying was the reassurance that Michael would still be with him. Soon enough, once they got out of the woods anyway, David would find some civilians that no one would miss. Then the two of them would be safe, full, and content. He would make sure of it, he had a fair plan.

David just wished that Michael had meant he needed him in the other sense. He wasn't really sure what it was in particular about Michael Emerson that drew him back time and time again with such urgency, but considering the hell it took to get this far, he was kind of hoping there would be some more than outstanding sex.

Though it went without saying it wasn't the only thing on his mind. He wanted Michael to be comfortable with him first, and with the idea of being a vampire. These ideals were just going to be extremely hard to achieve in the immediate future, as for some reason David couldn't evoke the feelings of excitement from the kill. Which was honestly becoming increasingly irritating to him, considering the kid managed to look guilt-free when it was him he was tearing into. Hell, he practically got off at the smell of David's blood, which he supposed was fine considering it only strengthened their bond, to an extent. It was just the fact that Michael dismissed or denied his blood so often, that by the time he finally caved, he was unmistakably jaded. It wasn't what David wanted, for either of them. No, the first time an exchange like that were to happen, whether Michael in chagrin or in bliss, would surely mean a perpetual imprint. With the utmost prudence and wisdom, David would perfect this final tie, but only as soon as Michael met him half way.

Paul, who had been considerably the nicest out of any of them, had still been able to kill civilians. He could only hope that Star and Sam, practically eons away now to Michael, hadn't left any sense of lingering morality. Surely Michael would forget them both soon, just like David forgot his dead beat Mom and Dad—or his immensely loving Mom and Dad, his memories were practically foreign at this point.

"What are you thinking about?" Michael started, and to David's momentary incredulity he thought he sounded genuinely curious.

"Sex, mostly." He admitted, amused when Michael's jaw fell slack. David had been able to produce that particular response once already. Back then, with the simplest graze of teeth against the boy's jugular. He wondered absentmindedly just how much he could stretch that mouth, open it till—

"Spare me, please." And to his amazement, Michael didn't falter when he said it. Nor did he sound an inkling embarrassed, even though David was sure Michael was beginning to catch on to his aching desire.

"Don't worry, Michael." David maintained, willing to dismiss the tension if he was, "Hetero Sex. With fair skinned, fair haired, feeble minded girls. Big titted, too."

Michael only surprised him further by appeasing his quip. "Then I suppose it's a wonder you even gave Star the once over."

"Hmm," David drawled, distracted by the smoke that hung above the redwoods. It didn't look far from where they were, and there didn't seem to be enough of it to mean a big fire. All it proved to be was a depiction of someone's privately owned getaway residence, and although it might be too soon to assume, their stay for the night. Sunrise was a few hours off, which could bring them into the next city easy, but he didn't want to push Michael as he was practically an infant.

"Star was merely a passing thought I felt I'd entertain." Lie. It was an obvious lie, because he never let anyone into his family on mere whim. They all had a purpose with him, and he loved her just as he did any of his brothers who came before. In fact, at one point he supposed he loved her differently, so differently it could almost accumulate as more. His statement was only said in jest to arouse Michael, who he hoped that with anger would tire all the more easily.

"She's more than that, and you know it." Michael snarled, and David's plan seemed to suddenly work, for he lunged forward as if to strike the elder, but his legs gave out before he could even come close.

To this David crouched low, making sure he remained at Michael's level, who lay still on the muddied ground. His slip proved exhaustion, but he knew better than to think Michael the type to go down easy. He'd have to take it one step further, since Michael was so riled up.

"Say," and suddenly David wasn't sure if he wanted to test Michael, or if he actually wanted to know, "Do you think me and you have things in common?"

"Absolutely not." Michael answered quickly, too quickly. Without reason, David thought. Which only made him all the more eager to be enlightened to his thoughts.

"Humor me, Michael." And David lent a hand to hoist Michael up, but his offer was rejected. He wished Michael didn't always have so much damn pride. It would end him some day, or he supposed, it already had. "At least think on it a minute."

"Absolutely nothing." Michael spat. He shoved David back with one arm, legs kicking off till he was a few feet away. Every time David moved even a mere inch forward, he scooted a full step back. Incredible, David thought, how easy it was for the both of them to revert back to this. It had been a week since his turn, around three nights since they'd left Santa Carla. He supposed Michael had been obedient when it came to certain things, like staying at an old ranger lodge for cover from the sun. Yet despite the slight nods and grunts showing this vague agreement, not much else had been shared between the two. He didn't dare bring up blood again, as he didn't want to bring about more distaste for the idea. And he couldn't talk about family, never, not being such a touchy subject for the both of them. David supposed he could ask him about…school, not that he was all that interested in whatever humans gathered and talked about in that institution. It was then he realized that while there were dozens of characteristics that pulled David to Michael, he knew not of the circumstance of how each was obtained. He didn't know what made Michael, well, Michael. Hell, he didn't even have a foundation to start learning with, as at least half of any proposed topics were surely black listed, and the others he still didn't believe Michael willing to share.

"Fuck," and then Michael's fist shook, and his eyes lit again by the fuel that was David's choice words. He didn't think they should have been enough for such a reaction, but time and time again they proved enough for Michael's acute distaste. David frowned slightly, believing now he took it too far. It always amused him, seeing just how wound up he could get this boy, but not when the situation could possibly turn dire. They needed to find a safe haven, and the more he wound Michael up the more the clock would wound down.

"How do you always seem," Michael started up again, voice softening as something dawned on him.
David took his revelation as a means to shorten their proximity, setting a dominant hand on the boy's shoulder to hold him up. Though in an instance he slumped, mouth a now familiar slack, and David fell forward to gather him in his arms. He snapped his fingers in front of his eyes once, but Michael was far gone.

"Fuck, kid," he growled, associating his lack of response to be the last of his energy, "you were supposed wind down, not knock out."

Michael decided that David wasn't annoying like a baby brother was. Sam could dictate the monthly family outing to the movies, always animated, strewn with badly-paced fart jokes and quirky one-liners, and struggling to reach the PG13 rating he was starting to wish he could learn to appreciate. And David wasn't compassionate like his Mother was. Always putting her son's desires first and foremost, like gooey, cheese stuffed crust pepperoni pizza over her preferred Beef Satay with peanut sauce. And David certainly wasn't loving like Star had been. Willing to sacrifice her life to some kid she barely knew, all because she thought it could aid a family she so desperately wished she could have as her own.

Yet the more Michael thought about how David wasn't like his family, the more he realized he was exactly like them, in his own way. It was painful, at first, to associate these memories of his favorite people to one murderous beast.

Though suddenly Sam's plea bargain of Watchmen, Mike! It's the hottest new comic, and it's going to sell out, so you have to get it for me since you're my big brother! Sounded a lot like David's rendition of You're one of us Michael. A part of my family. I'll take care of you as long as you follow my lead, because you're my brother.

Or his Mother's You can stay up one more hour, if it pleases you. You really ought to be getting to bed, baby. I'll allow this, because I love you.
To David's own I'll let you have Star, since you like her so much. I want you here, and if she brings you in, that's okay with me.

"I love you, Michael." Star proclaimed, shyly wrapping her arms around his neck, lips a mere inch from his own.

He couldn't forget her image in that moment, it seemed engraved into his mind. The first time a girl shared a feeling like that, and meant it. Star made him feel so warm, so whole.

Though David had evoked the same feelings. His declarations never as blunt or as desperate as Stars, it was enough to prove his love all the same.

But did David love him in the same way Star loved him?

She was the only girl Michael had ever loved, but she was also, to his knowledge, the only girl David had loved.

—But he was still able to give her up, so easily.

"Michael," David sighed, patting at his back urgently. "We're here."

He stirred slightly, but his head didn't raise from where it was pressed against David's neck. It was a shame really, this being the first bout of pleasantry Michael had shown him.

"Michael," he soothed, slipping his hand under the dirtied shirt. He massaged up and down the boy's back until he saw the faintest fluttering of eyes. "I know you're dead on your feet. I promise once you pick your spot you can go back to bed. Just open your eyes for a minute so you know where you are."

Michael was able to open his eyes, slowly. He found that when he tried to take in the darkness too quickly, his vision would become all the more blurry, rendering him further disorientated. He thought the transformation to an immortal would solve this sort of issue, but his lack for proper nutrition was probably stunting him considerably.

To him, blood was still blood. It still tasted like iron, an unappealing description, but for whatever reason now, he found it enjoyable. Sort of like how alcohol was an acquired taste.

"I want some, I think. I think I need some." Michael breathed against David's neck, raising the fine hairs that grew there. The elder growled once in warning, but Michael only nuzzled his neck in response. It was shameful, holding onto David like this, and he was painfully aware how excited he was becoming. In that moment though, the need dismissed his sense of boundaries.

"What do you want, Michael Emerson, defective newborn of one week?" He ground out, trying to pull Michael away from his throat. The second David dropped his hold from Michael's body however, he found the lack of support compensated by a pair of legs wrapped around his waist.

"I want you." Michael panted, tongue snaking out to dampen his chapped lower lip. He didn't know what he was saying, could only barely retain that he'd said it at all. He just knew that David slowed a fraction, his eyes opening in astute observation. It felt like he was going to get what he wanted, and he was okay with that, no matter the means. So he clasped both hands firmly around David's neck, and leaned in to breathe in the scent that lingered there.

"If I gave in to the desires of that daft bitch of a demon of yours, I'd never hear the end of it." It took a lot of force to hold Michael's face away from his own, but he managed to do so steadily. With two fingers he pushed at lateral incisors, hoping that with enough force they would retract. Considering Michael had fallen a mere hour ago like a sack of shit, he wasn't expecting too big of a struggle.

Though Michael never failed to surprise him, and with an unexpected punch to his gut, David hit the ground—hard. It was the shock that got him more than anything, and he blinked, astounded, as blood filled his mouth from the blunt force. Michael crawled on top of him, eyes glowing yellow, mouth feral. He had the audacity to smile, and if his ears proved tuned correctly, purr at him in approval.

David did the only thing he could think to do, and with one hand seized the front of Michael's shirt and pulled him down with him. Michael grunted when his mouth initially touched David's, the kiss starting too rough and his lips being stiffly shut, but the second David opened his mouth and the blood flowed through, he relaxed into the contact. His vision cleared, the edges of his sight not so blindingly yellow, restricting, and as his hunger eased and he opened his own mouth to the too-red lips, he let go.

David ran his fingers through Michael's hair, massaging at the scalp. When he felt Michael's tension release, his kiss turned moist, eager, and he couldn't help but hold on all the more tightly. It was the first time to his knowledge that Michael had been so open to him, so responsive, and the second time he had ever been so vulnerable. As David bit and sucked at his lower lip, Michael let out a low moan, so low that a mere human could never hope to hear it, and David couldn't help but moan alongside him.

Michael was awake enough to know that it was David who he was pressed flush against, David who was slipping a hand into the front of his now excruciatingly tight pants, David who was making him shudder with a flick of the wrist and a swipe of the tongue. He didn't object when his shirt was tugged off, couldn't find words when David stopped sucking on his tongue only to lick a wet trail down his front to his navel. He wanted this so badly, wanted David so badly, that his whole body shook at the hint of what was to come. He felt agreeable again, which could have been the after high of getting his fill of blood, but he was now becoming more accepting of the idea that maybe he felt this way on account of a fill that was purely David.

Michael closed his eyes as the rain came, and as the first droplets hit his face he thought he would feel sure somehow, of his course and of his mind. Though his newfound appreciation for blood didn't conjure any feelings of illumination, and he still didn't feel as though he understood in full what it meant to be a vampire, or what that meant to David. The weather still seemed as bleak as it had before, always unfortunate in its circumstance, yet somehow still, as a vampire, twice as lonely. He knew, at the very least, it was meant to feel cold. The water was supposed to hit him, and the cold was supposed to produce that feeling immediately. Now, Michael was cold-blooded. He realized he didn't know the feeling anymore, his mind only supplied what it remembered. As a vampire, for the exchange of a new set of senses, he had lost the most basic of human sentiments.

"I can't do this." He murmured aloud.

"What?" David breathed, and a puff of air was sent against Michael's dick as he spoke, causing it to twitch. "You don't want me to suck you off?"

Michael swallowed once, David's bluntness exciting him immediately. He contemplated letting him finish, and he wasn't really sure why he hadn't started already. Michael had thought it had been raining for quite a while, if his now shimmering skin and David's see-through shirt were any indication.

"You stopped." Michael reasoned, blinking to process it all. "You were watching me. Why were you just sitting there, watching me?"

Closing his eyes and leaning back on the muddy ground, David instead huffed out a laugh, choosing to ignore the string of questions. He clasped one hand around Michael's still-erect penis lazily, and although Michael had watched the action carefully, he managed to jump at the feeling of David's grasp.

"My hand fits nicely here." David smiled, opening one eye to gauge Michael's reaction. "Don't you think it fits nicely? You and me."

"Let's—Let's just go inside, David." It was a first, seeing the house David has chosen for the day. He was using the word house lightly, for the windows were boarded up and the paint job long gone to make room for the overgrown plants that now resided there. "You look tired, we both are. Sunrise will be soon, we should—"

"Michael." David said firmly, catching his attention instantly. Moving his hand up the firm chest, he paused only to rest it under the boy's chin. "What's wrong?"

"I just want to go inside for now." He pressed more urgently, and he leaned over to pick up his discarded shirt, but David just grabbed his wrist easily.

"We're sleeping down there," David motioned with his head, "in the cellar."

Michael wasn't sure how he even felt shock anymore, considering what he was now, but he couldn't help it in this instance. There was no way a cellar, much less a cellar in an old abandoned house, could be even remotely comfortable. He admittedly had no idea how vampires slept, and he guessed that a cellar was, dare he say it, remotely like what would be a cave to a bat.

"Can't we just look around inside?" Michael knew he was pouting, just as he was sure his shoulders were visibly slumped. Daylight would be soon, and there was no time for negotiation.

"Absolutely not. I stepped in already while you were asleep, and the place is littered with garbage and coated with dust."

"How the hell is a cellar any better?"

With one hand David motioned for Michael to be silent. "Despite the interior's state of decay, there's a tattered bed on the floor in one of the rooms. Not that it's particularly clean, but it shows less wear than everything around it."

"So you think someone's living here?" Michael questioned, slipping his shirt back over his head. He wrapped an arm around himself wearily, suddenly on edge of the possibility of having company in the woods. They had been almost-fucking in the open, yet David didn't bat an eyelash.

"No, I don't think so. Well, not anymore anyway. A couple miles back we passed an old campground. There were a couple of tents set up, sleeping bags and all. Picnic area around a pit too. Whatever was here has moved out."

"But if you're so sure, why can't we sleep inside?"

"First off, Michael, I can never be sure of anything anymore," David's voice rose slightly, which caused Michael to sit up and listen. "Not since a couple of prepubescent brats killed a member of my family inside my own home. And second—"and David was looking at Michael carefully now, or maybe he was looking through him. "—not since you."

"I hate when you do that," Michael blurted out immediately, unable to contain his repugnance at David's proclamation. "When you say these vague things. Not since me? Not since I what?"

"You're unsure about me too, in your own way." And there David went again, picking apart Michael's brain, as if he were the simplest of puzzles. "You think this is all child's play. Maybe it was then, in Santa Carla. When we really could sleep all day, party all night."

"Michael," David continued, staring him down so intently that Michael couldn't help but squirm in response, "you set a new standard, when the boys were killed. I used to think I knew what it meant, being a vampire. Now, I wake up so unsure. I wake up and Max isn't around, Max, my sire, who was always so wise for his years, the king of his town, his element."

"Now, I wake up next to the vampire Michael Emerson. Michael Emerson, who somehow still has human virtues. Michael Emerson, who can fight his desire to kill, what I once believed the pivot of our existence."

"I'm not sure what it means now, to be a vampire," David finished, and Michael wasn't sure when he had stepped so close, having been enchanted by his gaze. He wrapped one arm around Michael's neck loosely, pulling him against his chest in what Michael could only imagine as a display of affection. "But I'm going to figure it out. With you."

Michael took in a deep breath, feeling light headed at the closeness of their contact. He tried to wiggle out of David's grasp, but his captor just reeled him in tighter.

"Michael," David coaxed, pressing his mouth against an ear, "do you want to go home?"

"Don't ask me such stupid questions," He couldn't go home, Sam would kill him. His mother would cry. "You know I can't."

"I know," David corrected, and he settled for resting his head atop Michael's shoulder. "But if you could, would you?"

Yes.

They were his everything. Even now, their memory often kept him going. Their nurture still a guiding light to his innermost conflicts.
No.

If he went back, David couldn't follow. There could be no human life alongside a vampires. He might not be family, but he was a lot of something, and Michael needed him.

Yeah, he really, really needed him.

"You've got to lay off the questions, alright? I'm not stupid, I get what you're doing. And I'll have you know, that no matter what you say, I'm too tired to get all worked up. So you might as well save it."

"Is that a challenge? Because before, when you were asleep, you looked so fucking precious I couldn't help myself. I thought, David, when are you going to get a chance like this? Funny really, I only had to wait a couple more hours. Though I really thought that was it—so I—"

Michael's head whipped around so fast he got whiplash, and despite the temporary pain he wasted no time in swinging out a punch, only to be met with air.

"Come on, Mikey," and Michael growled low, because fuck anyone who called him that besides his Sammy, "it was just my fingers."

"I'll fucking kill you."

He pounced with an exceptional amount of speed at David, who hadn't expected to exert himself considering their bout of drowsiness. Though David, now cautious with Michael's abilities, and wise to his own, was able to roll out the way.

"Truce, Truce!" He begged, though he couldn't help but smirk as he said it. His ill placed smile warranted a swift kick at his head, which he managed to dodge—barely. "I was only kidding, I promise. I can't back down from a challenge, especially one from you."

Michael punched David once more for the hell of it, anger not completely drained at the outspoken lie. It landed square on the mouth, and Michael was positive David had seen it coming, yet he didn't move an inch.

The confession pissed Michael off more than it should have, and he knew he shouldn't have taken it that way. Though it did prove no matter how open to him David had been as of late, there were sides to David that were still shrouded in mystery. He claimed he was uncertain about the future, but he still had the upper hand when it came to his perception of Michael. He knew how to rouse him, arouse him, and considering the path the two were about to take, he wished there was a shared sense of control.

Michael wasn't sure how David had managed to step around him, he had been watching him so very carefully. Yet the sound of the cellar door opening resonated throughout the forest, stirring all that dwelled there, himself included. Somehow the wood had slammed so painfully against the old stepping stones that encircled the front, but the inside, coated with that fine dust, had managed to muffle David's footsteps down the set of stairs. He looked pleased as he trudged down the darkened pit, pausing midway to share a smile with something obscured from Michael's view. He really hadn't the faintest idea what could sight could receive such a gesture, but the house itself was so off-putting that it didn't seem likely he would be able to share David's outlook.

So, he turned on his heels, ignoring David's excited call from down below, and preceded to explore the interior of the building for himself. It was just as off-putting as the rest, the greens out front in fact hiding its flaws and making it seem cozier than it actually was. He didn't know what it was really, or how it go to be that way. Though the inside was so dirtied and damp that you would almost think it part of the forest itself. Which didn't make a lick of sense, because there wasn't a source of light anywhere in the place, everything boarded up excessively to the point where it seemed damn right paranoid.

"Did you see the kitchen?" And he hadn't, until David had stepped in. It was the nicest area in the place, and the only room that seemed to redeem it as a safe living space. It had one light, which flickered but worked all the same, a sink with running water, and a pot belly stove he couldn't find the interest to tinker around with. Beside it was another door he could only assume to be the toilet, which meant there was no actual bedroom.

David had settled himself in the farthest corner, atop the lone mattress that looked better suited for a junkie. Michael had heard about the way vampires had slept from Sam, feet adapting to hang from the ceiling like the bats they resembled. He also knew how deep the tunnels ran back at the hotel in Santa Carla, experiencing it firsthand. He could only imagine that the cellar was the closest to that old home, and so it surprised him to see David laying there, without one single complaint.

"Get your butt to bed, Michael. This day alone has seemed like an eternity."

"You're sleeping here," Michael questioned, slipping in next to David, but leaving enough room between them to lessen the intimacy, "I thought you'd want to sleep in the cellar."

"I do. I still do," David yawned, reaching a hand out to grasp a handful of Michael's shirt, tugging him closer. "It's safer, and more practical, but we sleep together."

Michael allowed himself to be reeled in, not exactly liking the closeness, but not disliking it either. "We're not sleeping together."

David didn't react much to that particular comment, not like Michael had thought he would, anyway. He knew…David wanted that. He kind of wanted that too, maybe. Or maybe his body did, in a heat of the moment type thing. He didn't want to think about it too much, what almost happened.

"Go to sleep and we will be."

"—David."

"Go to sleep, Michael. I'll be on my best behavior."

"O-okay." And he hated that it made him think of it more. He rolled over, partly to cut the close contact, partly to shake off the nerves that had been arisen.

Just go to sleep, Michael.

You can do this, just take it one day at a time.

"David." Michael groaned, shifting on the bed in discomfort. He didn't have the best sense of time yet, with his mental clock being reversed, but he was sure he had a couple hours of shut eye left. "Quit it."

"Mmm." David mumbled, but his tongue didn't let up from Michael's neck.

"Jesus," he bit out, irritable that David was even trying this after what he'd said that morning. "Fuck off, alright? You're lapping at me like a dog. It's too early, and it's not even slightly turning me on."

"You fuck off and let me sleep." David interjected, pushing at Michael till he slid off the mattress.

"Bastard," Michael snarled, sitting upright only to be greeted by a smaller pair of dark, marble eyes. It was an actual dog, taking up the spot he had been booted from.

It was some sort of lab mix if he had to take a stab at it. It had dark brown fur, and was around the same build as Nanook had been. Though unlike Nanook or even Thorn, it looked happy to be in his company, tail wagging excitedly at the presumption of being pet.

He reached out cautiously, still not believing dogs to be the most naturally friendly to vampires, though it licked his hand all the same. Proving itself friendly, Michael couldn't help but pull it to him, running his fingers throughout the fur till it gave him more kisses.

"That's a good boy, huh," He cooed, shifting through the coat till he found the identifier he'd been looking for. "Uh…looks like—your name is—Ticks!"

"See you boys found my dog," A new voice chimed in. "And my house."

Shit

David, please wake up.