Conrad woke as the sun went down. Waking up as a vampire was an entirely different experience than waking up as a human. It took longer. He was conscious, but not coherent, at sunset, and the further the sun dipped below the horizon the more aware he became. Conrad usually tried to force himself to awakeness as quickly as he could, but the night after Worth's break-in he shot awake like someone had set off a firecracker next to his ear. Rolling over to the other side of his bed, he took a deep breath to clear the sleep-cobwebs –and calm his panic –and tried to order his scuttled early-morning thoughts.
Remembering that Worth himself had invaded his home –slept on his bed –was not a thought that sat well with Conrad, and sent something akin to horror shooting down his spine. The man was disgusting, crude, foul-tempered, and had no place in the clean orderly confines of Conrad's home. The two thoughts were polar opposite of each other, so putting them together was like trying to picture a penguin in the desert. They just didn't fit with one another.
Finally, Conrad gave up trying to think about it, because it made his head hurt. Besides, someone was yelling in his living room, and he had a good idea who it was.
Stumbling from his room, feeling the effects of sleep-deprivation that somehow sucked more because he was a vampire, Conrad entered his living room to find Veser berating the residents of Jersey Shore about their poor skin color choice. He was curled up in his usual spot on the couch, a bag of Doritos perched in his lap, staining his fingers the same orange as the characters on the TV. Conrad only spared a second to think about where he had gotten snack food from, before his OCD and cleanliness issues brought a more pressing need to his attention.
"Get your feet off the couch!" He snapped. The frustration and anger from the night before, dampened somewhat from sleep, came back in full force. "And what did I tell you about food in the living room?" The only response he got was Veser rolling his eyes with a "yeah, yeah" forced through a mouthful of chips. He did take his feet off the couch at least, although that didn't change the fact that there were cheesy chips too close to his furniture. Conrad growled in rage, thinking about how he had another thing to clean.
He was aware that he was in what Worth called 'full bitch mode', but he didn't care. It was his apartment, with his rules, and Veser knew he had to obey them. But by now he seemed to have gotten used to Conrad's ranting –not that he paid much attention in the first place. The damned kid might be able to get away with some things –especially when he employed those big green eyes of his –but by now he should know better to mess with the level of clean in the apartment.
Speaking of clean…Conrad groaned as his anger turned to horror. He had so much to clean. Whether he liked it or not, Worth had been in his apartment, and the whole place still felt sullied. He would have to go to Abner-like lengths just to make the freaking air feel breathable.
Conrad turned back towards his room, already compiling a list of things he would have to clean –carpet, bed sheets, god, himself, he was going to have to shower for an hour–when Veser piped up from the couch, "Did the Doc give you the blood?"
Pausing, Conrad turned back to the living room with a shocked "What?" Sticking his head over the back of the couch, Veser repeated his question with deliberate slowness, his sharp teeth showing with his big crocodile grin. "Did the Doc give you the blood?"
It took a moment for Conrad to comprehend fully, but when he did, he snapped, "What the hell do you know about that?" He tried to sound firmed and controlled, but his voice betrayed him. Veser must have picked up on the discomfort in his tone, because his grin grew bigger.
"Chill Connie." He simpered with a soothing air. He was enjoying this, the little bastard. "Doc showed up this morning when I was leaving for class, said he had blood cause he knew you missed your last couple of deliveries. I invited him in, like the good little gentleman I am-" Conrad's disbelieving snort made him grin wider "-and told him you were busy. Then I had to scuttle off to class and Worth said he'd give you the blood." His story finished, Veser's grin turned into a full-out leer as he eyed Conrad. "Thing is, I didn't see a bag on him. So didja really get fed?" he finished with an eyebrow wiggle.
Conrad didn't rise to the bait, keeping his stony glare and crossed arms. The kid may be as big a pervert as Worth, but he didn't know how to push his buttons like the doctor could. Miserably thinking that he was going to try to limit the pair's interactions with one another, he ignored the boy's insinuation altogether, choosing to answer the original question. "Yes, I got the blood. Now go play in the street or find something dangerous to antagonize, I need to clean." Turning back to his room, he heard Veser groan as he heaved himself off the couch and stomped out of the apartment.
Well, at least that explained how Worth got in his apartment. Conrad felt momentary relief that Worth hadn't just broken in, but that was quickly dashed as he did the math. If Veser had left for class at a reasonable time, say, 7:30, then Worth had been in his apartment for over two hours! The thought of Worth sleazing around his apartment, behind his back, almost made Conrad retch in horror, and that was before the horrifying idea: 'Oh My God what did he touch?"
Conrad dashed to his room and glanced around furiously. Nothing obvious seemed missing, or disturbed, except his bed, which he knew Worth had been on. And so had he.
Earlier that morning, he had stared at that bag on blood sitting on his bed for what seemed like hours, but honestly couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Finally, he reached forward and picked the blood up carefully, like it would burst at any moment. The blood sloshed gently in the bag, and he dimly realized it was really warm. Like some scummy doctor had been lying on it for some time. But of course that only occurred to him later, after he bit into the bag and groaned happily as thick, sweet blood flowed into his mouth, stating his hunger. Any reservations about blood-drinking were forgotten as he drank every drop, even ripping the bag open so he could get every last drop. Now full, and still sleepy, he had barely blinked an eye as he kicked off his pants and crawled on top of the covers. Subconsciously he sought out the leftover warmth Worth's body left, and even the sleepy inhale of Worth's smoky scent didn't faze him.
And so he ended up sleeping on top of the area where Worth himself had just occupied. How could he have done that? He couldn't explain it. When he was so tired it hadn't seemed like such a problem, but now, when he was awake and aware, Conrad felt shiver of disgust crawl across his skin. God he felt so unclean! First priority, he decided, was to shower like there was going out of style, then he would tackle the apartment.
Veser fumbled with the handle of Conrad's apartment, and sighed in exasperation as he searched in his pocket for the key he'd stolen. Conrad had gotten super paranoid after Abner's last attack, which meant the damn door was always fucking locked. Hopefully it was just the handle lock; the deadbolt and chain weren't accessible from the outside. And he really didn't want to stand in the hallway banging on the door. The neighbors already hated his rotten little guts, and he didn't want to endure their scowls like he usually did. Damnit, he was tired! Was it too much to ask for the rest of the night to be peaceful and quiet, after the maniac couple of hours he had just endured with Hanna? How did one person always find a different way to maim himself every night anyway?
Veser sighed with relief when the door opened for him on the first try. Triumphantly entering the apartment, Veser breathed a deep sigh of relief…and immediately started coughing his lungs out. Jesus what had the vampire used to clean, mustard gas? Throat burning and eyes streaming, Veser stumbled over to the window in the kitchen and cranked it open as far as he could. Scrambling through the apartment to throw open the other windows, he didn't find any trace of the stupid vampire. Was it too much to hope he had dissolved himself in bleach?
Apparently it was, because he heard fumbling at the door just when he was finally able to breathe properly again. Rolling his eyes, Veser got to the door as it banged open, revealing the sparkling-clean vampire with a load of laundry. His eyes darted around frantically, his form relaxing somewhat as they finally landed on Veser.
"Oh, it's just you." Conrad sighed in relief. For a moment, scrambling with the door in the hallway, he feared that Worth had found his way into his apartment again. But it was just Veser. A super pissed looking Veser, who's green eyes turned amazingly sharp when he was mad, but still just Veser. Not the damned doctor.
Conrad wasn't sure if he would be able to handle seeing Worth ever again, especially after this night. Cleaning the ever-loving fuck out of his apartment led him to the conclusion that Worth's smoky scent, the one he didn't have a problem with just that morning, had permeated every inch of his apartment. And the thought of meeting the owner of that aroma, again, after his stupid vampire brain decided to strengthen the connection of Worth Equals Food…no, it wouldn't happen. Hanna and Veser could do blood runs from now on. If he never Worth again, it would be too soon.
"You wanna explain why I almost choked to death in here, Connie?" Veser demanded sharply. Conrad arched an eyebrow in confusion as he set the basket of linens down on the counter. Then, slowly, it dawned on him that, oh yeah, he had been cleaning with bleach most of the night. Guiltily, he turned to Veser.
"Sorry. I –heh –guess I didn't notice, what with the not-breathing and all…" he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. "Was it that bad?"
Veser huffed, anger seeping from his frame and turning to fatigue. "Naw, just…open a damn window next time" he grumbled, before sitting on the armrest of the couch. Kicking off his shoes, he leaned backward and tumbled onto the seats, finally able to relax.
Conrad sighed in relief. It looked like he wouldn't have to deal with a Veser temper tantrum. Sometimes that kid was worse than a baby, the way he screamed. Had a worse vocabulary, that's for damn sure. Picking up a sheet from the top of the pile, he quietly started folding as Veser rescued the remote from the depths of the couch cushions. He would bring up his blood-fetching request later, after Veser chilled out a little. Because his mind was made up. He'd rather starve than have Worth in his apartment again.