(Written from Pete's perspective. Inspired by the music video for A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More "Touch Me" )
The warmth of his soft skin grazed my lips as I neared the side of his throat, and as I pressed a fang to his flesh, I felt him tense in fear. Despite the temptation of the blood I could feel pulsing through his arteries just beneath the muscle layer, I withdrew my head for a moment, confused at my own hesitation.
The young man's small frame trembled beneath me as I pressed him against the brick wall, and for the first time since catching sight of him, I grabbed his chin and forced him to make eye contact with me. I may be unable to see my own reflection, but I know from my past life that I have dark, straight hair and near-black eyes... and the reaction I usually get from my human victims has lead me to believe that this makes for a threatening combination. Though even as the man - who didn't look older than around twenty - shrunk back in horror as his colourful eyes scanned my face, I couldn't help but appreciate his beauty. For a fleeting moment I pondered what he could have been doing out in the open as he was when I found him; the humans that sent him out here must have known that he didn't stand a chance, and he certainly didn't look like a Hunter.
He was still shaking, his eyes focused directly on my slightly open lips and no doubt the fangs inside. His own lips parted for a second as if he was about to speak, but before he did his eyes flickered up to meet mine. The pure fear in his eyes lit a flame inside me, one of instinctual need and excitement for the feast to come, but also something else... could it be lust?
"I- I know w-what you're going to d-d-do..." he started, his voice barely above a stuttered whisper, "s-so just get it over with." The young man tilted his head to the side, exposing the flawless, pale skin of his neck before closing his eyes and holding his breath.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, slightly taken aback. This was where he was supposed to struggle, to tell me about his elderly mother or his young children that need him, to tell me how young he is, how he'll do anything if I'll only let him go. Yet here he is, totally resigning to his fate, fists clenched and eyes squeezed shut, causing his nose to scrunch up in an almost adorable way. My hands, previously around his small wrists pinning them to the wall, loosened. I studied his face for a moment as his expression softened slightly, only to be struck with confusion.
I took half a step closer, closing the gap between us. He was pressed against me, soft and warm against my chest and stomach, legs still trembling with tension and fear. His eyes didn't open as I pressed my mouth to the exposed skin of his neck, my lips closed over my fangs so as not to hurt him. Something about this man had struck a chord deep inside me, and my temptation to taste his sweet blood on my tongue wasn't overpowering as it was for my other victims. There was something else, something stronger, holding me back.
I placed a gentle kiss to his neck, and he shivered. "Don't be afraid..." I muttered against his skin, and I smirked slightly as I imagined the look of disbelief on his face. "Y-you're going to k-kill me" he argued cautiously, and I allowed his arms to fall to his sides as I looked him in the face. His eyes were shining with moisture, and he rubbed angrily at his flushed cheeks with one hand as a tear threatened to spill. Although my hands rested against the brick wall either side of his head, we both knew that if he decided to run, he could. And I made the decision that if he chooses to, I won't chase him down again.
"No, I'm not."
"B-but... why not?"
I ran a hand through my hair as I considered an answer, brushing it away from my face temporarily. His gaze remained on me, a small frown on his lips and eyes wide with bewilderment. "I... I don't know" I concluded, and his frown deepened. I was being truthful – there was a reason why I didn't want to hurt this boy, something inside me burning with more passion than my desire to drink his blood – I just didn't know what it was.
Until suddenly, the answer struck me.
"Actually, I think I do know," I started, and the young man's grey-green eyes met mine once more, curiosity gracing his features, the soft light of the flickering streetlights tinting his pale face with a warm glow. I leant towards him, and this time he didn't flinch or tense. "Because I'd rather do this..." I whispered, and pressed my lips to his.
Soft, warm, pink; his lips were everything I wasn't. He melted into the kiss and I deepened it cautiously, weary of the pointed fangs that could so easily hurt him – and if I accidentally got a taste of his blood, I don't know that I would be able to resist the urge to taste more. Pushing those thoughts aside, I trailed my hands down his sides until they rested on his hips, and hooked my fingers around the belt loops of his jeans to pull him closer to me.
He moaned slightly, and the sound was music to my ears. I broke the kiss to trail kisses down his neck and along his collarbone, once daring to ever-so-gently nip at the soft skin, being careful not to draw blood. His hips began to move against me and I felt his growing erection press at my hip. I pulled away from his neck and smiled at him, relishing the lust in his eyes that didn't falter even as his gaze dropped to my now exposed fangs. "I never asked your name" I stated simply, and he smiled weakly. "Patrick." Patrick... I nodded. "Pete"
As much as I wanted to take him somewhere more private, I knew that wasn't possible. His kind feared mine, and attempting to take him back to my home was far too much of a risk. Patrick was mine, and I would take a stake to the heart before I let anyone else lay a finger – or fang – on him. He seemed to understand this, and grabbed my wrist, using his other hand to gesture at a dark alleyway around the corner. I smirked slightly and followed, allowing the shorter man to pull me behind him. Although the chances of Hunters or vampires being out this early in the night was unlikely, being caught would spell death for both of us.
Once we were safety retreated into the shadows of the alleyway, Patrick leant against a wall and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. His cheeks were slightly flushed and I could see his chest rising and falling as panted – he looked flustered and needy, yet so vulnerable. In two strides I was pressed against him again, my mouth on his in a rough kiss, and I heard him whine as I pressed the palm of my hand against the bulge in his jeans. He rolled his hips as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, prompting me to return my lips to his throat as I kissed and sucked at the delicate flesh, leaving deep pink marks that stood out beautifully against Patrick's pale skin.
My other hand dropped from his waist to the front of his jeans, deftly undoing the belt and fly to grip his cock through his boxers as I nibbled slightly at his collarbone. Patrick released a breathy moan and mumbled my name before gripping my hair and lifting my head, pressing his lips to mine before I got too carried away on his neck. After a moment I broke the kiss to press my forehead against his, the various colours in his eyes blurring together as my vision became unfocused. I slipped a hand beneath the waistband of his underwear and he gasped slightly as my skin touched his; I often forget how cold I am without the warmth of life in my veins.
I gripped his cock and began to stroke his length as he let out little whimpers of pleasure, his strawberry blond hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. I moved away fractionally and began to lower my head as I went to kneel in front of him, but he shook his head and laughed breathlessly as I stared at him in confusion. "That might not be the best idea" he explained, and after a moment of licking my teeth thoughtfully I realised what he meant. His hands were still in my hair, pulling slightly, and I could feel the heat of his breath on my mouth as I pressed my lips against his in a chaste kiss. I smirked at him, admiring the way he didn't flinch at my fangs even when they were so close to him. "You're hot when you smile" he whispered seductively, and I grinned in delight, causing him to return the smile before he was cut off by a moan.
"Pete..." he whined, stressing the 'ee' before I captured his mouth in a kiss. My hand sped up around him and he moaned loudly into my mouth, then bit at my bottom lip and pulled, and I groaned without thinking. "I'm close" he muttered, and I nodded, running my thumb over the head of his cock as he gripped my shoulders.
Several seconds later Patrick was moaning low and loud as he came into my hand, his forehead resting on my shoulder as he rode out his orgasm, hips bucking into my hand. I didn't move away as I removed my hand from his boxers and sucked on each finger, keeping eye contact with Patrick once he had lifted his head and was returning to reality. He watched me with half-closed eyes, his cheeks the perfect shade of pink, and wrapped his arms around my neck.
And in that moment, I knew that I would never let any harm befall my Patrick.
