MRC One Shots

Bite Me

Ray sat on the bench, late at night. The streets were barren and there was no light other then that of the street lamp, burning down on him. He was relaxed, leaned back on the bench, body spread out, head lulling to the side, neck exposed. He was like a big neon sign, coated with the words "bite me." Thus was the way of the hunter. Couldn't stake a vamp if you couldn't get them close enough to grab.
It was illegal for him to be out here though, he knew that. Long before his time, the Creatures of the Night law had been passed. Hunting was a heritatary trait. You were born into it, faster, stronger, smarter and more in tuned to your senses then those lacking the blood. Hell, some of them, like Ray, were even physic.
But, you were also born with better tasting and better smelling blood then a normal person. You were born as bait. Hunters were being killed or turned faster then they could make new hunters.
So, the Creatures of the Night law was passed, forbidding hunters under the age of 28 and without a permit from hunting. Yeah, you needed a fucking, Permit to keep the streets safe.
Ray was only 21, but he had been hunting sense he was 10. His family found the CotN rule just as stupid as he did.
He was just about to call it quits, when the hair on the back if his neck stood on end. a cold, tingly feeling rushed through his veins. Everything seemed sharper and clearer then before, and he was itching to get his hands on a steak. A vampire was close.
He didn't move from his relaxed state though. Despite all this the new stimulation, he knew he'd look more like a normal civilian if he stayed that way, and his body did to. The body of a hunter knew what to do before the hunter did most the time, it was natural. Ray could literally do this in his sleep.
"Are you trying to get bit?" A voice asked. Fuck, he knew that voice, it was Mikey!
"Fuck off way," he growled, "I'm doing my job."
"You're illegal job." Mikey smirked.
"Imma say it again. Fuck. Off." Ray hissed.
Yes, Mikey was a vampire, No, Ray did not know him before the turn, and yes, he probably should kill the damned blood sucker. But he couldn't.
No matter how many opportunities he had, no matter how much his hunter blood urged him to, no matter how much he urged himself to. He couldn't bring himself to kill the 700 year old.
But Mikey never killed him either. He had multiple chances to as well, and he never took it. There encounters has become somewhat of a joke. They would threaten, but no one ever died.
Mikey sat down next to Ray, face and body turned fully towards him. "I'd rather fuck you," he smirked. Ray rolled his eyes. Mikey would often flirt, but the fluffy haired hunter could never see him going through with it.
"And I'd rather get head from Baraka." He said, rather coldly. Mikeys smirk fell and he looked annoyed. Not for long though, as it returned and he mimicked the hunters relaxed sitting position.
"How do you do that?" He asked, moving around, trying to perfect the stance.
"Do what?" Ray asked, watching the slender male from the corner of his eyes. The vampire noticed and smirked.
"Look so vulnerable yet, sexy at the same time. How do you do that?"
Ray rolled his eyes, "its a hunter thing," he mumbled. Mikey chuckled darkly and started closing the distance between them. Normally, the feeling of being around a vampire fades after being around one long enough without a threat being presented, and it had. But with Mikey coming closer, the feeling was coming back, stronger then before.
His fingers twitched and be tried to focus on the comforting feeling of the steak in his inner pocket, the pressure it applied to his side.
Mikey got closer, putting a hand on his knee. "You smell so good..." He purred, nearing rays neck. Ray stealthy went to grab the steak, but another voice rang out in the distance.
"Mikey!" It called, pulling the vampires attention away from the hunter.
"That's Gerard," he smirked, standing up. "Better go see what he wants." And with that, the 700 year old brunette was gone. "Uggh," Ray groaned, rubbing his face and trying to calm down. "Bite me," he spat, before getting up and starting the walk home.