Love At First Bite (Stan x Kenny)

Chapter 1- Stan

Stan shouldn't be doing this, he knows that deep down to his core. Sneaking into innocent strangers' homes to feed off of them while they sleep is not only rude, but illegal, and an insane violation of their rights to bodily autonomy. That being said, Stanley Marsh is starving.

Work has been keeping him busy, and he's had to skip the last few nights of feedings.

He wishes he'd known just how hard it would be to get by as a vampire before he'd started associating with them in the first place, but now it's far too late and he's forced to face the consequences of his actions.

Blood bags are hard to come by; the humans work tirelessly to keep them inaccessible to his kind, and the ones that do fall into vampire hands go for a high price on the black market. Even with his busy work schedule, Stan can never really hope to afford them. Just one would cost almost as much as a month's rent, assuming he could even afford to rent, which he can't. The kinds of odd jobs he gets hired for after dark hardly pay well, and he's a bit desperate, which is why he finds himself standing in the backyard of a stranger's house contemplating the most inconspicuous way to sneak into their home and take their blood.

He's really been stretching his morals to their limits lately; Stan used to be a vegetarian for crying out loud. The thought of harming a single animal had made him feel nauseous, it still does to some extent. Back then, when he was human, he actually had a choice in the matter, but now, if he doesn't drink blood he'll die, and though some nights he lies awake thinking that maybe his death would be for the best, some incredibly selfish force pushes him to fight for his own survival.

He glances at the window just slightly above him, the sill sitting at just above his eyebrow height. There's a faint sound of snoring coming from the other end of the screen that signals to him that someone is sleeping inside.

Stan hopes the person on the other side of this window isn't a light sleeper. Earlier in the week he'd accidentally awakened his meal of the night, which had resulted in him quickly rushing out as the human had grabbed for the baseball bat leaned up against their wall. Tonight Stan just wants an easy meal. Get in and get out.

He finds a foothold in the uneven bricks and uses it to get up just high enough to fiddle with the screen, managing to silently pop it out of place and slip inside the building.

The inside of the room is nothing fancy; there's a mess of clothes strewn across the carpet, a desk covered in CDs and video game cases, and a shelf covered in assorted pop vinyls. Above the desk hung a cluttered pin board holding assorted photos and documents.

The bed is really more of a worn down cot, however it doesn't stop Stan from jealously thinking about how it's still much nicer than his current sleeping arrangement. And the man on top of the cot smells heavenly, like pine trees and citrus with maybe a hint of honey or cinnamon. Stan can't quite pin down a single thing that the boy smells like, no single word seems to quite do justice to the lovely aroma that he exudes. Stan knows instantly that his blood will taste just as good as he smells and his mouth begins to water at the thought of it.

And his face is gorgeous, with soft rounded features, tanned and freckled skin, and long blond hair that looks soft as silk that frames it just perfectly. Stan feels like he could stare at him forever. He practically has to drag his eyes away from him as he reminds himself he's just here to feed and get out, not to fawn over an impossibly beautiful stranger.

Stan's fangs start to slip out over his canines and venom starts to pool at the tips. He slowly lowers himself down onto the cot, sitting beside his meal and leaning towards his absolutely delicious looking neck. If he can manage to knick this man with just the right dose of venom he should stay asleep through the whole process, then Stan can get in and get out as planned, his prey hopefully never knowing he was there.

Stan lets in a long slow breath, indulging himself in enjoying the man's scent before gently sinking his fangs into his skin. The man lets out a small noise and Stan's muscles tense up, readying himself to flee, but thankfully his prey stays asleep.

Stan relaxes, sliding one hand under the man's head, holding it steady as he feeds and oh god his hair is just as soft as it looks. Stan can't help but relish in the feeling of it. And his blood, it has to be the best thing that he's ever tasted, like a fine whiskey aged to perfection. He forces himself to drink slowly, enjoying and savoring every drop.

Stan has made it a rule of his not to visit the same person twice, he figures it minimizes the damage that way. He hates that he has to sneak in and feed from non-consenting victims just to keep himself alive, and up until this point he's made a conscious effort not to not to make any one person suffer more than anyone else by feeding off of them multiple times, but this man, oh he was going to make it hard to stick to that rule.

He slips his fangs out and softly presses the tip of his tongue against the skin of the human's neck to seal the wound. And then he's back out the window repeating over and over to himself that he would not return. However, after two weeks of sleepless daytime and disappointingly bland blood he breaks his own rule and returns for seconds.