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Two men race through the park on foot. It’s late – dark – and they run faster than any mortal ever could.
There are only a few humans here at this hour. A handful of teenagers, two men sleeping on benches, a lone dog walker.
If any of them notice our runners, all they can make out is that one of them is chasing the other. The movement of a long dark coat on the hunted, a flash of grey hair on the hunter.
The men are about 60 feet apart, but the predator is gaining on his prey.
Armand turns his head to look back at his would-be captor – a mistake. He stumbles, becomes briefly disoriented. A stab of pain in his ankle.
He doesn’t fall, keeps running, but it has cut his already meagre lead in half.
“No,” he mutters. A desperate plea to the universe.
The vampire hunting him lets out a breathless laugh. He, too, realises that this chase is almost over. And that he will be victorious.
Armand races over the stone footbridge crossing the stream, his feet barely touching the ground. Ahead of him, the path is split by a wooden memorial bench and a patch of well-manicured grass.
He rounds the bench on the right, not taking the path, but running through the grass in the same direction he was headed in before.
The grey-haired vampire puts one foot on the seat of the bench, one foot on the backrest and pushes off. He flies through the air and tackles Armand to the ground.
After a short struggle during which Armand barely uses 20% of his true strength, Armand ends up on his back, his fledgling on top of him, straddling his hips and leaning down heavily on Armand’s wrists with both hands, pinning them to the grass on either side of Armand’s head.
“You broke the rules,” Daniel says. “We said ‘no vamp speed’.”
Armand bats his eyelashes. “I’m sorry,” he whines in a way he knows is less than convincing. “I was just so frightened.”
Daniel scoffs. “You know, for an ex-theatre director, you’re a pretty lousy actor.”
Armand grins widely. “Only when I want to be.”
Armand lets his face go slack, so he has a blank canvas to work with. Takes in shallow gulps of air to simulate shortness of breath. Lets his body go soft. He angles his face down a few degrees. Widens his eyes, furrows his brow just a little, opens his mouth just a little, and allows his bottom lip to tremble.
He knows it makes him look young. Helpless. Human.
He’s wearing brown contact lenses, but those are just a prop. A true actor, he understands the importance of body language, facial expressions, voice modulation.
“Please don’t hurt me,” he whimpers, and he can tell from the way Daniel’s breath hitches that his ‘fright’ is highly realistic this time around.
Like Armand, Daniel loves the thrill of the chase. The physicality of it. The tang of fear in the air. Armand can feel Daniel’s cock press against his stomach through their clothes, almost as hard as Armand’s own erection.
“Please,” Armand repeats. “I have money. I can p – ”
Daniel cuts him off with a hollow laugh. “You think it’s money I’m after?”
Armand’s eyes widen even further as the realisation hits him: he won’t be able to buy himself out of this. It’s not his money this monster wants; it’s him.
A cold shiver passes through him. “Please.”
“Please, what?” Daniel asks. His face is menacingly close to Armand’s, his eyes a wholly unnatural shade of orange.
Armand tries to shrink in on himself, but there’s nowhere he can hide. He’s trapped between the cold, hard ground and the cold, hard lines of the vampire’s body. Armand’s backpack presses up against his spine, lumpy and uncomfortable. His wrists hurt where Daniel has them pinned.
Daniel lifts Armand’s wrists a few inches from the ground, then slams them back down. “Please, what?” he hisses.
“I don’t want to die,” Armand pleads softly, pitiably.
But Daniel is ruthless.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want Reagan to win the 1980 election, and that still happened. What’s this?” Daniel asks, his eyes moving down to the cut on Armand’s right cheek. “You hurt yourself, sweetheart?”
Armand nods. “A branch.” He may or may not have walked into it on purpose. For the sake of realism.
Method acting, if you will.
“That’s what you get for breaking the rules,” Daniel says. “But don’t worry. Daddy will kiss it better for you.”
The vampire leans in even closer. Armand can feel his cool, metallic breath on his face.
Daniel licks along the length of the cut, slow and filthy.
His tongue is cold and dead.
Armand closes his eyes, holds his breath and waits for it to be over.
Daniel pulls back and hums, savouring the taste of Armand’s blood. His face is still only inches from Armand’s. “You taste scared. Are you scared, baby?”
Armand’s eyes are screwed shut tightly. He nods, and breathes in harshly through his nose.
“What’s that?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Daniel licks the cut again. “You should be.”
Daniel sits up a little, putting more weight on his own knees instead of on Armand’s wrists, though his grip on Armand remains vice-like. He doesn’t talk, but Armand can feel those unnatural eyes boring into him.
When Armand opens his eyes again, Daniel’s fangs have dropped.
Daniel’s fangs are glorious, deadly weapons.
If Daniel hadn’t been pinning down his arms, Armand would’ve reached out for one of them. Awed and terrified in equal measure. Accidentally cut his finger, so Daniel could kiss that better as well.
Next time, perhaps.
“They’re so big,” Armand whispers instead. A scared little lamb, staring up at the Big Bad Wolf.
Daniel grins widely – evilly. “That’s what she said.” He mimes biting at Armand, his mouth snapping shut, and Armand gasps again.
Daniel laughs. “Sharp, too.”
“You’re going to eat me, aren’t you?” Armand asks, his voice shaking.
“Every last little morsel.”
Daniel nuzzles at Armand’s neck, uses his nose to nudge Armand's jaw, so he’s forced to turn his head.
Armand closes his eyes again. He can feel his own heart pounding in his entire body.
Fear, arousal, adrenaline.
Daniel’s fangs scrape down the side of his neck.
Yes yes yes yes yes.
Armand can feel Daniel preparing to bite him, like a snake rearing before it strikes.
“Will it hurt?” Armand ask in an attempt to delay the inevitable.
He’s small and brittle and doesn’t want to die. Not yet, not like this. Please.
Daniel lets out an impatient huff of air. “Well, it’s always going to hurt a little. I am pretty big,” he taunts. “But it can be good for you, too, if you don’t struggle too much. Are you going to stay nice and still for me, baby? Hm?”
“Please.”
“It’s a Yes or No question, sweetheart.”
Armand can only whimper.
“I’ll take that as a Yes.”
Armand hears Daniel’s fangs pierce his skin, his flesh, his artery. Feels the hot, searing pain that – almost immediately – blends with hot, searing pleasure.
Armand struggles not to lose himself in the euphoria.
They haven’t shared their blood in over a week, and Daniel hasn’t fed since last night. More method acting, to heighten the experience.
Armand has fed, so he’s warm and plump. Ripe for the taking.
And Daniel takes and takes. He moans while he drinks, as does Armand, whose head is spinning, whose blood is singing.
Yes.
Yes.
Daniel.
Armand wants to claw down Daniel’s back, bury his nails in his salt and pepper hair, but he can’t. He’s not strong enough. Only human – no match for the predator on top of him. (Plus, he’s filed down his own nails to match his human persona.) And Daniel is killing him in the most delicious and intimate of ways.
Armand doesn’t notice Daniel pulling away, not at first, caught up in the swoon as he is.
His vision is as hazy as his mind. He has to blink a few times before the world comes back into focus.
Daniel grins down at him. His fangs are still out, his teeth stained red with Armand’s blood.
Armand is still alive.
It doesn’t seem right. The monster came here to eat him. Didn’t he? Every last bite, he’d said.
“You didn’t kill me,” Armand says. “W-why didn’t...?”
“All in good time,” Daniel assures him. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”
Another chill goes through Armand, moving up and then back down his body. “What... What do you mean?” he asks, though he knows.
He knows.
But somehow he needs his captor to confirm it.
Daniel doesn’t disappoint.
“It’d be a shame not to take full advantage now I've caught you,” he says while his eyes rove down Armand’s torso. “Pretty boy like you. A real catch.”
Armand lets out a sob. He shakes his head. “No. Please.”
“Keep begging,” Daniel says. “Not gonna do you any good, but I like the sound of it. Who knows. If you’re loud enough, someone might even come to save you.” He leans in close to Armand’s face again, too close, and whispers, “And I’ll get free dessert.”
Heat coils in Armand’s lower belly, in his groin, and his cheeks. He’s completely powerless. Weakened from the blood loss. The monster is going to kill him, but not before he violates him even further.
Armand whimpers. “No. No...”
“Let’s get you comfortable,” the vampire says.
Before Armand can register the fact that his arms are no longer pinned down, Daniel grabs his hips and flips him over onto his front. And Armand is being pushed down again.
“No. No!”
Daniel ignores his pleas. He methodically relieves Armand of his backpack, which he tosses to the side before he starts to strip off Armand’s coat.
“No.”
Armand claws at the ground, trying to pull himself forward, to crawl away. Cold clay underneath his fingernails. A blade of grass in his mouth. His own hair in his face. He kicks out, but only hits air.
“Now, now, kitten,” Daniel tuts, easily pulling Armand back the few inches he’d managed to move forward. “None of that.”
Armand’s nails leave long, useless grooves in the dirt.
Daniel rucks up the lower part of Armand’s coat and puts one of his knees down on the small of his victim’s back. Armand reaches back, tries to push him off, but he isn’t strong enough. Daniel is an immovable statue of marble. Or granite. And he has Armand pinned to the floor like a butterfly to a collector’s board. Or a frog about to be vivisected.
Daniel pulls Armand’s coat off of him, one arm after the other. Armand fights him tooth and nail, kicking out, yelling. He tries to pull himself forward again, but though his nails find purchase in the mud, he doesn’t manage to move an inch.
The weight on his back disappears. Daniel grabs the waistband of Armand’s trousers and easily lifts Armand’s hips from the ground. He roughly shoves Armand’s bunched-up coat between the cold dirt and Armand’s crotch. “There you go.”
Armand tries to kick him again and Daniel drops him down onto the grass. Armand’s nose hits the ground, hard.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Daniel growls, and then Armand is being pushed down once more. It isn’t Daniel’s knee that’s pinning him down this time, but the sole of his boot planted firmly between Armand’s shoulder blades. “Will you stop squirming?!”
Daniel unbuckles his own belt with an exasperated sigh, then slowly pulls the belt from his jeans. Armand can hear the leather dragging against the black denim.
For one wild moment Armand thinks Daniel might mean to whip him into submission, but he doesn’t.
Instead, Daniel’s foot leaves Armand’s back. Again, Armand has no time in which to act before Daniel’s hands are on him again. The vampire grabs Armand’s right arm, then his left, and forces them onto Armand’s back, one wrist on top of the other.
“I don’t know why you want to keep exhausting yourself like this,” Daniel says as he lashes Armand’s wrists together with his belt. “You’re not gonna get away. I’m a hundred times stronger than you are, and I’m not letting go of you until I’ve had my fun and you’re as cold and dead as I am.”
Armand stops struggling. Daniel’s right. It’s no use. Armand might as well be a ragdoll with how easily the vampire can throw him around.
Daniel pulls the belt tight and secures it with the buckle. It hurts, but Armand tries not to let it show. He can deny his tormenter that pleasure at least.
“Of course I could kill you first,” Daniel continues. “Fuck you after. And maybe I will. Fuck you again after, I mean. But for now I like you like this. Hot and pliant!”
On the last word, Daniel claps his hand down onto Armand’s clothed ass and gropes him through the fabric. He squeezes, hard, cruelly digging his claws into the sensitive meat of Armand’s cheeks.
Armand gasps, partly from the pain itself and partly from the shock of it.
Daniel chuckles and Armand experiences a perverted flurry of pride. Daniel’s playing his role so well. Making Armand feel smaller and more helpless than he’s felt in centuries.
“Fuck, you’re a delight,” Daniel growls under his breath. He curls his fingers around the waistband of his victim’s trousers, sharp nails grazing skin, and starts dragging the garment down.
It only takes a second for the vampire to become frustrated with the speed at which Armand’s trousers are coming off. “Why’d you have to wear something this tight, huh? Make me work for it? Fucking tease.”
He tears the trousers off of Armand, his claws ripping through the fabric, viciously cutting into the skin of Armand’s ass and thighs. Armand yowls in pain and Daniel barks at him not to be such a Goddamn drama queen.
“That’s better,” Daniel says when he notices the fact that Armand isn’t wearing any underwear. He tosses what’s left of Armand’s trousers to the side. “I knew you wanted it. Pretty little slut.”
Suddenly, Daniel’s mouth is on Armand’s ass, moving over the cuts, lapping at his blood.
Armand whimpers again, willing himself not to cry. He’s completely bare from the waist down now, the air cold on his skin, his cock leaking onto the ruined coat beneath him. He realises he’s lost one of his shoes in the struggle. He’s naked and exposed and there’s nothing he can do.
Daniel’s worshipful lips on his helpless flesh.
It’s transcendent.
“Please,” Armand whispers. “Please.”
Daniel stops licking him. “You’re right,” he says, his voice thick with lust. “That’s more than enough foreplay. I won’t keep you waiting any longer.”
“No,” Armand protests weakly. “That’s not what I – ow!”
Daniel grabs one of Armand’s ankles and pushes Armand’s leg up, so his knee points out and his balls are exposed. He holds Armand down with that preternatural iron grip while he bites off two of the nails on his free hand.
“No, please, no – ”
Armand has to bite back another scream when Daniel shoves two fingers into his hole without any preamble. Armand can feel the rough edges of the vampire’s torn nails scratch at his walls.
Daniel curls and flexes his fingers with zero regard for Armand’s anguish, probing into him like Armand is just a toy. A thing.
“So wet for me already,” Daniel purrs lasciviously, lowering his body down over Armand’s so he can say it directly into Armand’s ear.
Armand prepared himself before they went out, but it’s still tight – or rather: tight again. Armand might be playing at being human tonight, his immortal body is still trying its hardest to return to the state it was in the moment he was made a vampire.
Daniel roughly thrusts his fingers deeper into Armand and Armand’s lubricated hole squelches obscenely. Daniel moans in appreciation, the sound of that somehow even more obscene.
Then Daniel’s weight lifts off of Armand. He lets go of Armand’s leg and drags his fingers back out of him, leaving Armand’s hole feeling tender and sadly empty.
While Daniel unbuttons and unzips his jeans, Armand vaguely registers the fact that this is his last chance to try and get away. But it’s no use. He doesn’t have the strength, speed or energy. Daniel has the upper hand in every way.
Armand closes his eyes and tries to brace himself instead.
Daniel manhandles him into a slightly different position and breaches him again.
His cock is cold and dead.
It’s big – too big – and unyielding, forcing Armand’s body to give way.
“Ah, fuck,” Daniel hisses as he bottoms out. “I was right to keep you alive for this. So hot and tight. Mm.” He nips at Armand’s ear, not hard, almost playful, but still cruel.
He pulls out until only the tip of his monstrous cock is still inside of Armand, granting the body beneath him half a second of relief – before slamming back in with a loud grunt.
Armand surrenders fully, finally.
The only thing he’s still fighting is his urge to unsheathe his own fangs. It wouldn’t do to break the immersion like that. Armand is a fragile human boy who knows he has been conquered, not an ancient immortal who could stop this whenever he chooses.
Part of Armand – a part long dormant but always present – wants to do what he eventually learned to do all those centuries ago, when he really was a human boy without options: to retreat inside himself. Dream up a warm little room and hide there until it’s over. Scrub what’s happening from his mind until he can scrub it from his body.
But that would be wasting the experience, and Daniel is working so hard to make it memorable.
Armand bites his own bottom lip to keep himself in the present. Not hard enough to break the skin, just enough to ground him. He focuses on taking in every detail. The smell of grass, the feel of it on his cheek. Daniel’s nails biting into his hip. The burning stretch in his ass as Daniel rams into him again and again, ruthless and demanding.
Daniel’s breath on his neck. His grunts in his ear.
“Please,” Armand whispers one last time.
“This not enough for you, huh?” Daniel asks. “Greedy little princess.”
He grabs hold of Armand’s left forearm and lifts him up so he can snake his other arm underneath Armand, around his chest. Then he leans back on his knees until he’s sitting up, dragging Armand into his lap.
“That’s better,” Daniel says. He yanks Armand down onto his cock while he fucks up into him from beneath. “Much. Better. Fuck.”
Armand lets out a punched-out cry at each thrust. He tries to hide the fact that it is better like this, but he’s not sure he succeeds. Daniel guffaws through his grunts.
“Gimme some spit, baby,” Daniel says. It takes Armand a moment to notice that Daniel is holding a hand underneath his mouth, against his chin. But he still doesn’t understand what Daniel wants from him.
“You’ve got three seconds or I’m jacking you off dry.”
“No,” Armand gasps, his mind finally catching up.
“One!” Daniel says, thrusting up harder than he has so far.
Armand’s mouth feels drier than it ever has.
“Two!”
“No!”
“Three – ”
Armand manages to dribble a pathetic amount of saliva onto Daniel’s palm.
Daniel scoffs and the disappointment and disgust the noise conveys makes Armand’s skin burn with shame.
“Suit yourself,” Daniel says. He moves his dry hand to Armand’s throat, forcing back Armand’s head so it rests on Daniel’s shoulders, and wraps his other hand around Armand’s cock.
His hand is cold and dead, his grip too tight.
Armand’s spit is cold, too, and not nearly enough.
It hurts, exquisitely, when Daniel starts moving his fist over Armand’s cock.
Armand can’t comprehend how Daniel manages to stroke him off while continuing to hammer into him with inhuman force and precision. Armand can barely think at all. Consumed as he is by being devoured.
“Bite me,” Armand gasps, suddenly needing it desperately. “Please.”
And Daniel, obliging boy that he is, does. On the side of Armand’s neck that he spared the first time.
This bite is more intense than the last. Deeper, more all-consuming.
“Yes,” Armand says – or maybe he only thinks it – as he surrenders one last time. “Killing me, finally.”
But Armand only dies the little death, somewhere between Earth and Saturn, in Daniel’s firm and safe embrace.
Armand floats there for minutes. Hours. Possibly a century or two.
When he returns to Earth, his hands are no longer tied. He’s lying in the grass, Daniel spooned in behind him. Daniel’s right bicep is a pillow, his left arm a loving anchor around Armand’s chest.
“Welcome back, boss,” Daniel tells his maker, his breath tickling his neck, and Armand hums.
Armand covers Daniel’s arm with his own and pulls his fledgling more tightly against himself. He doesn’t want to open his eyes just yet. Wants to stay here until at least the 22nd century.
Daniel only gives him a few more minutes.
“Not to fuck up the afterglow,” Daniel says, signalling that he’s about to do just that, “but we should probably do something about the fact that you’re bare-assed and balls-out in the middle of a public park.”
Armand can’t really bring himself to care about that.
When it becomes clear that Armand isn’t planning on moving, Daniel starts to extract himself from their embrace. Armand whines in pouty protest, but doesn’t try to stop him.
Once Daniel is back on his feet, Armand rolls onto his back and finally opens his eyes. He looks up at Daniel as the other vampire surveys the scene.
“Your pants are fucked,” Daniel says, kicking at what must be whatever’s left of the trousers in question. Armand loves the fact that Daniel doesn’t sound apologetic; he’s just stating facts in that deadpan way of his. “Coat, too.”
Armand waves in the general direction in which Daniel tossed his bag earlier. “Backpack.” He stares up at the stars while Daniel retrieves the bag.
Daniel unzips it and pulls out a packet of wet wipes. “You want me to clean you up?”
“I’ll do it. You take care of...” Armand makes another vague arm gesture at their surroundings. “And find my shoe, will you?”
Daniel hands over the wipes and puts the backpack on the ground next to Armand. He picks up the remains of Armand’s trousers and deposits them in a nearby trash can. “You wanna try and salvage the coat?” he asks, holding it up.
“I’ll buy a new one. But I do want my shoe.”
Armand packed replacement shoes as well, but he likes the ones he was wearing better. They’re good for running.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.”
It takes Daniel quite some time to locate the shoe. By the time he returns to Armand’s side, Armand has cleaned up and gotten up, and redressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and an oversized navy blue hoodie. He’s wearing the backpack again.
Armand takes the shoe from Daniel and leans on Daniel’s shoulder unnecessarily while he puts it back on.
“Are those my sweats?” Daniel asks.
“No,” Armand lies. The sweatpants still smell of Daniel. Armand took them directly from the laundry basket and packed them unwashed (precisely because they smell like Daniel).
Daniel doesn’t challenge him on it.
Armand puts his arms around Daniel’s neck and holds him tight. Daniel answers his embrace and Armand relishes in it.
“I love you,” Armand says.
“I love you, too, baby. Was that what you had in mind?”
Armand shakes his head and buries his face in Daniel’s neck. “It was better.”
They stay like that for half a minute.
Then Armand tilts back his head and Daniel kisses the last drops of blood from his neck.
“Fuck, boss, you taste so good.”
“Have you had enough?” Armand asks. Daniel’s fledgling stamina and libido come with the typical fledgling appetite. And he couldn’t drain Armand like he would a real human victim.
“I mean, you’re good, but... I could probably still eat a horse,” Daniel admits.
“There’s a mounted police officer not two miles East from here,” Armand offers.
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious.”
Armand chuckles. For such an intelligent man, Daniel can be wonderfully obtuse post-coitus. “There really is a mounted police officer two miles East. But you don’t have to eat the horse.”
Daniel nods. “Okay, I’m in. All cops are breakfast, right?”
Armand smiles. “So I’ve been told.”
“Want to race me to – hey!” Daniel calls out, because Armand has already taken off. “No vamp speed!”