The Human

  He carried me downstairs carefully, yet as though I weighed nothing. To him, that was probably true. He lowered me to the sidewalk once we stepped outside and I was made to walk. He matched my pace – slow, I was so tired – as he led back to the driveway we were dropped off nights ago.

  The fresh air was nice and I tried to enjoy it while I could, if I’d ever get to feel it again after tonight. I wore his clothing, jeans and a tan shirt, because I didn’t have any of my own outside of the shirts and briefs he let me wear around the apartment. A belt kept the pants on me and the shirt was tucked in to hide some of its size.

  My neck was sore where he bit me, the inflamed wound a little higher than the one he gave me on our second night together. The car arrived and he helped me in. I closed my eyes once I was situated, too drained to use the opportunity to study the areas we’d be passing through.

  I woke to a pressure on my thigh – the vampire, squeezing my leg to get my attention. “We’re here.”

  No time had passed at all, so the trip was either short or I dozed off. Probably the latter; my head was against his shoulder and he probably put it there after I fell asleep. My neck throbbed but I peered out of the windshield as I started sliding out of my seat and I froze at the familiar sight: The Diner.

  I was now wide awake. At least, as awake as my body would let me be in its current state. My captor grabbed my hand and slipped an arm under mine to pull the rest of the way out of our lift.

  Beth stood behind the counter in her usual spot, either taking online orders for The Diner or communicating with the team below. She continued her work obliviously as we approached the door. Her attention was briefly pulled to the kitchen and she faced the window to talk to one of the staff. She’d have no idea what we were doing here, and no time to prepare. Neither do I. We were all good at playing it by ear to maintain our covers, but we usually had more information to work with and tried to avoid any surprises on our own side.

  He pulled the door open and gestured for me to enter ahead of him. Fuck, here we go...

  Beth heard the bell and turned to give her usual greeting. She froze for several seconds when she saw me – if I saw that, so did he – then glanced at him. “Sit anywhere you like, someone’ll be with you in a moment!” Despite the already rough start, she maintained her usual friendly demeanor.

  “You pick.”

  Why? But, I selected a booth on the wall that faced the busier street. I sat at the edge of the bench hoping he’d take the other side instead of blocking me in. He did, probably because it kept me in his line of sight. I didn’t want the vampire to touch me here like he did at the apartment.

  “What can I get you boys to drink?” Beth set menus down in front of us.

  You should have sent a different server. After looking around, she was probably the only one still here. Hell, one of the people from the kitchen, if you had to. The other tables were also empty, but that wasn’t too unusual when it got this late.

  It’ll be weird if I don’t order something... “Water’s fine.”

  “I’ll take a water, too.”

  “Great! I’ll give you both another minute to look over the menu and I’ll be back with those waters.”

  I glanced down at the menu. What does he want from me? What does he hope to get out of being here? If he would’ve just killed me earlier, maybe he wouldn’t have a reason to be here at all.

  “You need to eat something substantial or you’ll feel like shit later.”

  I scoffed. Fuck you, I feel like shit now.

  Beth returned, and placed the waters and straws in front of us. “Have y’all decided?”

  “I’m not hung-”

  “They’ll,” my captor cut me off, “have a salad with two burger patties and two eggs on top, over easy. Add avocado if you have it and an English muffin.”

  What kind of order is that?

  “Got it. And what can I get for you?”

  I glanced up from the menu, interested in his answer. What does a vampire order at a restaurant?

  “I’m good for now, thanks, I had something to eat a little earlier,” he stared pointedly at me. “But… I might’ve saved room for dessert.” He turned back to her and gave her a warm smile.

  He seems so friendly even while he’s threatening her. That charm comes and goes like he’s flipping a switch.

  “I’ll leave a menu with you, then, and get this order in. Let me know if you need anything else!” Beth headed behind the counter and entered the order.

  She would’ve flagged the attention of the team below by now and Charles would be telling them how to proceed. He could be hot-headed but he wasn’t impulsive. Like me, he wanted as much information as possible before he acted. Charles won’t have the information he needs this time, even if he thinks he does. My captor was much more than the buff, pleasant man he’d appear to be on the cameras. Please keep everyone downstairs. I sighed, picturing the worst case scenario. And if you do send someone, don’t fucking send Paul.

  The door behind us opened and someone sat at the counter. I didn’t turn around to get eyes, but I didn’t recognize the voice when they spoke to Beth, either. Good, a stranger won’t be paying too much attention to our table. This will also let Beth properly divert some of her attention to taking care of them instead of trying not to hover over here.

  I took a sip of the water. I wanted to know exactly why we were here but it would be abnormal for me to want to talk to him. He was normally happy to fill the silence yet remained quiet himself, his gaze shifting between me and Beth.

  What does he know? What does he think he knows? He’ll probably talk if I can get him started. I was having trouble thinking straight as it was, and wasn’t able to come up with something to say that felt natural. I led him here. I put Beth in danger. What’s he going to do to her before we leave?

  “Sorry…” I whispered as I leaned against the back of the booth. That’s not what I wanted to say. Not to him, at least.

  He laughed softly as he leaned forward to capture some of the space between us. “Why are you sorry?”

  I never liked the way he looked at me, like he was trying to extract the answer instead of letting me give it. Trying to dissect me with his mind. And now he was giving Beth the same treatment. Maybe he’ll open us both and compare what he finds inside.

  Why would I be sorry to you? “I don’t panic.”

  “I know.”

  “If I didn’t-”

  “We’ll figure it out when we get home.” For once, he didn’t want to talk to me.

  “Y’all doing okay over here?” Beth topped off my water as an excuse to walk by. “Can I get you some coffee? Juice? Might help keep you goin’ a little longer if you had too much to drink.”

  Don’t let him know you’re worried about me. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Juice would be good, actually,”

  Juice does sound good. The other patron, a to-go order, left; it was just the three of us again in the front. Beth returned to our table with the salad and juice, setting it down in front of me.

  “You’re very good at taking care of people, Peach.”

  Don’t talk to her. I managed a tired smile at her then took a sip of the juice.

  “Very intuitive. In tune. How long have you worked here?”

  Where is he going with this?

  She lingered at the edge of the table. “Oh, it’s nothing! People come in looking rougher than he does nearly every night,” She managed a friendly laugh.

  “I don’t think that’s true…” The vampire’s tone was now calm, direct.

  I glanced up from my plate due to the sudden shift. He focused on her with the same intensity he often directed at me, a look I recognized as his eyes met hers. Except, unlike me, she couldn’t look away from him; it was like she was being held in place.

  “And I don’t think Peach is your real name. What is it?”

  Oh yeah, like that’ll w-

  “It’s Elizabeth.” She didn’t hesitate.

  Oh fuck.

  “Nice to meet you, Elizabeth. What’s their name?” My captor gestured at me and didn’t break his eye contact with her.

  Don’t.

  “Michael.”

  What are you doing? I didn’t know which of them I should focus on. This is a bad dream. I’m still asleep in the car, or back at the apartment. Wake up!

  “Michael, that’s a nice name.” He was quiet for a minute before asking, “Who is Michael to you?”

  “A son.”

  I bit my lip so hard it bled and it hurt just as much as it should. Not a dream.

  “Ah.” Another period of silence passed. Beth had tears building. “You’re going to forget I know your name, and Michael’s. You just gave us the food and juice we ordered and were about to ask us if we needed anything.”

  “Yes, sorry! Can I get you anything else at the moment? Butter or jelly for the English muffin?”

  I get it now. I did die earlier. Hell actually exists and I’m in it.

  He broke his eye contact with her and glanced over at me. “I think we’re good for now, Peach, but check on us in about… ten? We might be ready for dessert by then.” The vampire’s intensity was once again replaced by his charm as he smiled up at her.

  Do you still feel pain in Hell?

  She stepped back over to the counter and his attention was back on me, the gentleness he reserved for others gone. “Finish eating.”

  I took a bite of the salad; it tasted real, felt real in my mouth. Did he drug me? I worked on the food on the plate, unsure of my next chance to eat or what other horrors he had planned for tonight.

  She gave a known hostile our legal names like it was nothing. What else would Beth have told him if he asked? I’ve spent nearly two weeks with him. He gives me that same stare. Have I told him things that put everyone here at risk?

  Beth came by about ten minutes later to check on us. “Did you decide on dessert?” She gathered the empty bowl, cup, and any trash from the table as she waited for our answers.

  “I’m ready to go home.” His home, not mine, but I didn’t want him to ask Beth any more questions.

  “We’ll be taking the check, then.”

  Beth left with the dishes and returned with the check. He paid in cash, like last time. Then, with him assisting me, we started to head out.

  I glanced down the hall at the Employees Only door when we passed it, thinking of all the ways shit could go wrong if I sprinted toward it now. I might be able to make it, but he’d take Beth.

  “Did you need to go?” He assumed I was looking at the bathrooms.

  I don’t want to leave him alone with her for any period of time. “I can wait.”

  “Go, if you need to.”

  Let’s just go. “What if there’s a window in there and I use it to escape again?” He scowled at my words but that quickly morphed into an amused grin. Oh no. I’ve really fucked up, now.

  “If you wanted my help, all you had to do was ask.” He placed his hand on the center of my back and pushed me toward the bathroom.

  I’m so stupid. “I don’t need your help,” I argued, keeping my voice low – I didn’t want Beth to be alarmed.

  He shoved me through the door and locked it behind us, guiding me to one of the urinals.

  How far is he going to take this? “I can do it myself.”

  He rested his head on my right shoulder and slid a hand across my waist until he found the zipper. “Why would you want to when I’m here to do it for you?” he asked, and slowly unzipped me.

  The Diner’s front door opened. Beth’s voice greeted someone and Charles’ voice responded, followed by Paul’s. Paul will behave with Charles chaperoning, at least. Whatever plan they have – if they aren't just up here to observe – will fall apart fast if they hear us struggling in here. I remained quiet even as he stuck his hand through the open fly and pulled down the front of my briefs. His fingers made a brief stop to play with my body hair, then followed the trail to what he actually wanted.

  “I can’t pee with you holding my dick,” I whispered loudly.

  “It’s okay if you’re feeling shy. We’ll stay here ‘til you’re ready.” His other hand creeped up my shirt and found a nipple, giving it a pinch. “I’ll entertain myself while I wait.”

  We interrupt your regularly scheduled yearning for death to bring you the consequences of provoking someone you know will make you regret it. I was stuck here until I gave him what he wanted, or until 2:00 AM – whichever came first.

  I sighed and closed my eyes, picturing myself somewhere without his fucking hand on my junk, and without Beth, Paul, and Charles on the other side of the door. I wasn’t going to be able to relax, but I took several deep breaths and tried to make myself go each time I exhaled. This is nothing. You do this multiple times every fucking day.

  I finally started, stopping seconds later as the noise picked up on the other side of the wall.

  “Aw, almost.” He tauntingly nipped at my earlobe while he used my waist to pull me back against his hips.

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  I still felt the effects of the blood loss and the sudden movement made me dizzy. The vampire was fast and moved his arm from my waist to my chest before I even knew I was starting to fall forward.

  “You’re not making it easy,” I growled.

  The team engaged in small talk in the dining room and Beth took their order to keep up appearances.

  “I haven’t made it hard,” he countered.

  Several tense moments passed before I finally went. He washed his hands while I put myself back together. I looked in the mirror while I washed mine; my neck was quite bruised from tonight’s bite and coated with dried blood that he, intentionally I’m sure, let me leave the house without washing off.

  I must’ve told him something that led him back here. I’m being used as leverage. At a minimum, Charles knows. He must’ve received a threat or ransom that he hasn’t responded to, nor would he, and I was brought here to encourage Charles to cooperate. He would’ve been contacted when I was detained the first time. Charles fucking already knew when I’d come back and said nothing to me that entire time.

  Did Paul know? Did Beth? Did someone hire this guy to take me or was the vampire behind everything? The parlor trick he pulled on Beth was for me. But, what was the goal? To show me how easily he could get what he wanted? What, then, stops him from getting what he wants himself?

  Or, am I the target? They could have pre-planned the earlier act. Having her tell him our names in front of me would sell the idea that he could get information this way. But, if he can actually do something like this, he would’ve gotten the information he needed from me already.

  What information would the team think I’m keeping from them that they’d hire him to play these insane mind games instead of asking me themselves? And if they are working together, why would he ask me about what I told them about him? He would already know who they are and they’d be sharing any sort of relevant information. Is this all performative – meant to squash any assumptions of them working together?

  “Ready, Michael?” he asked, as if he were giving me a choice. His use of my actual name had already gotten old.

  He unlocked the bathroom door and ushered me out ahead of him.

  This may be exactly what he wants. He can’t torture the information he needs out of me, at least not within whatever limits he’s been given, so he’s resorted to creating doubt toward my team to see if I’ll give it up in retaliation. Or, could Charles have arranged all of this to see where my loyalty to them ends?

  “Yeah,” I whispered.

  Anything is possible. If Charles is behind this, I’m going to die for him, because of him. If the team was being targeted, I can’t help them if I’m dead. I need to narrow it down before I do anything rash. And, for now, I need to survive.

  The team was certainly watching us, and if they weren’t, they’d be going through security footage after we left. I reached for my captor’s hand as we approached the front door; he seemed surprised at first but let me lace my fingers between his. With my other hand, I flashed the same signal behind me that I gave Beth just a few nights ago: ‘wait.’

  The Vampire

  I found a shirt and jeans that would fit Marcus while they ate. The pants were a little loose, but that was easily solved – I still had the belts they were wearing both times I brought them home. My shirt exposed more of their neck and shoulder than it did when I wore it.

  Their neck was puffy and already starting to bruise; their blood caked around the punctures, and smeared and streaked down their neck until it disappeared under the shirt. Mmm… I’ve made such a mess of you. I treasured the way blood looked on their skin, the way they bore the wounds that I inflicted. You are mine and you will always keep my mark.

  I planned to talk to Peach after I ate tonight and I’d already pushed that to tomorrow after tonight’s events. But, do I have to? I don’t have a back-up plan in mind for tonight and I could learn so much by putting the two of them back in the same room. What might be revealed if I bring Marcus back to her looking like this?

  I hired a ride then lifted Marcus; it would be easier for both of us if I carried them at least partway to meet the car. They were exhausted and fell asleep as soon as they were buckled in. On the way, the car took a corner more sharply than necessary and it rocked Marcus into my side, their head landing against my shoulder. Even that didn’t wake you up. I knew they needed rest but couldn’t help my disappointment. I wanted to see how close we’d get before they realized where we were headed, and how or if they’d react.

  I rubbed their leg as we pulled up to the restaurant; like earlier, they didn’t stir. I slid my hand to the inside of their thigh and gripped it firmly until they jerked awake. “We’re here.”

  There was an obvious change once they looked out of the car. Is the pain setting back in now that you’re awake, or is this panic? I should’ve kept you awake. I pulled them out of the car with me, eager to up the pressure.

  Kitchen staff were chatting in the back but Peach was the only person in the room. Perfect. She paused briefly when she saw us; her attention lingered on Marcus, their neck, and then shifted to me.

  “Sit anywhere you like, someone’ll be with you in a moment!” Her tone said ‘I’m happy to help you,’ but the same fear she showed the other night was already surfacing. I glanced around at the seating options.

  “You pick,” I finally said. Marcus chose a booth and sat at the edge. Hah. I was going to sit across from you but now I’ll… I’ll still sit across from you. I wanted to observe them in this familiar environment, their natural habitat. Peach gave us both menus and set the table with utensils and napkins.

  “What can I get you boys to drink?” I glanced across the table at Marcus.

  “Water’s fine.”

  “I’ll take a water, too.” I smiled up at her. She’s putting a lot of effort into remaining collected, professional. I’ll give it to her, it’s almost convincing. She knows something isn’t right. What, exactly, does she think that is?

  “Great! I’ll give you both another minute to look over the menu and I’ll be back with those waters.”

  Marcus’ eyes stayed on the menu only to avoid engaging with me – they weren’t actually reading it.

  Too tired? Not hungry? Already know what’s on it because you come here so often? Maybe they think I don’t want them to order anything. “You need to eat something substantial or you’ll feel like shit later.”

  “Have y’all decided?” Peach sat the drinks on the table.

  I watched Marcus. What would they normally ask to eat? They had, what was it, lasagna last time they were here? They are all about convenience at home and avoid anything that requires cooking, but will at least eat what I make for them without complaint.

  “I’m not hung-”

  “They’ll have a salad with two burger patties and…” I flipped the menu over to check what they offered. “...two eggs on top, over easy. Add avocado if you have it and an English muffin.”

  “Got it. And what can I get for you?”

  “I’m good for now, thanks.” I saw Marcus’s focus was on me out of the corner of my eye and met their gaze. “I had something to eat a little earlier, but..” Their neck looked painful and despite their interest in the situation they were sluggish. Their reactions were slower, their blinks longer. Peach knows them. And, either Marcus lives such a crazy life that seeing them in this state isn’t a surprise, or she’s going out of her way not to acknowledge that they look unwell. No, ‘are they okay’ or ‘can I get you something to help you clean that off?’ She didn’t call the police when she stepped away, either. I returned my attention to her, and finished my earlier thought. “I might’ve saved room for dessert.”

  “I’ll leave a menu with you, then, and get this order in. Let me know if you need anything else!”

  They are impressive actors. I wouldn’t know there’s something more between them if I hadn’t gotten that information from the guy two nights ago. I can tell that someone’s stressed or nervous but that doesn’t mean I know why. I had context that allowed me to rule some factors out, but not enough.

  A man entered and placed his order at the bar. I watched Peach while she rang him up. She was quite petite, I had at least a foot on her. Active – though a job like this would keep her on her feet and moving through the entire shift – and notably energetic for this time of night. She exuded confidence and warmth, even if that wasn’t what she was actually feeling. She took care of herself and took pride in her appearance but it was the imperfections she allowed herself to bear that were the most attractive. Some of her wavy, light brown hair had come loose from the pin she used to secure it and her apron hung crookedly over her hips. Were she and Marcus a thing before I took them home? I couldn’t picture them together or Marcus being willingly intimate with anyone. But, I didn’t forget how I saw them interacting through the window the other night, and tonight they pretended they were strangers.

  Peach stepped out from behind the bar and I got a better look at her full profile from a distance. She wore black over-the-calf socks that started just below where her skirt ended; about three inches of her thighs were visible in the gap. Mmm… those would be nice to sink my teeth into. Lay her down on this table, defile her as she bleeds out, both of our thighs slick with her bl-

  “Sorry…” Marcus snapped me out of what was becoming a daydream.

  I could only laugh. They wouldn’t be apologizing to me if they were in my head right now. They looked so tired, so defeated. “Why are you sorry?”

  “I don’t panic.” You think tonight is your fault? Why?

  “I know.” I glanced back over to Peach who was headed back over with a clear pitcher in hand.

  “If I didn’t-”

  “We’ll figure it out when we get home.” This isn’t a conversation she needs to hear.

  Peach topped off Marcus’s barely touched water. “Y’all doing okay over here?”

  We are.

  “Can I get you some coffee? Juice?”

  Your thighs.

  “Might help keep you goin’ a little longer if you had too much to drink,” she said, this time directly to Marcus.

  Peach is concerned. Is she hoping they’ll correct her? Tell her what happened? Ask her for help? I glanced at Marcus. I’m sure you’re tempted. You’re being so good for me right now.

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  You’re not fine. “Juice would be good, actually.” Marcus could be strategically obedient but wasn't one to simply give up – their resignation tonight was very out of character. I won’t let anyone take you from me, not even yourself.

  Beth came back with the food and juice once she gave the other man their order. I got her attention before she stepped away again.

  “You’re very good at taking care of people, Peach.” Marcus paid attention to me every time I engaged her. Will you try to protect her from me? “Very intuitive. In tune. How long have you worked here?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing!” She was uneasy but doing well to hide it. “People come in looking rougher than he does nearly every night!”

  Lying to me, or trying to appease me with a joke – especially at Marcus’s expense – is a mistake. “I don’t think that’s true…” My tone must have caught her off guard because her hazel eyes met mine and I used that opportunity to grab her, that familiar mental ‘click’ letting me know she was mine, for now. ?...And I don’t think Peach is your real name. What is it??

  “It’s Elizabeth.” Marcus’s heart rate spiked, and they were holding their breath. This answer clearly pushed a button.

  ?Nice to meet you, Elizabeth.?“” Time to push harder. I drew her attention to Marcus. ?What’s their name??

  “Michael.” Michael.

  ?Michael, that’s a nice name? I was certain they weren’t a ‘Marcus,’ but they could have told her any name. ?Who is Michael to you??

  “A son.” A son, not my son. So they’re ‘like a son’ to her. That still means something.

  ?Ah.? That also means they’re not together. Unless… they have that sort of lifestyle. I can’t picture that for Mar–Michael, either. ?You’re going to forget I know your name, and Michael’s. You just gave us the food and juice we ordered and were about to ask us if we needed anything.?

  ”Yes, sorry! Can I get you anything else at the moment? Butter or jelly for the English muffin?”

  ?I think we’re good for now, Peach, but…? I released her, and shifted my attention back to Michael. They knew I was fast, strong. Now they know I have this sort of influence over people. What are you thinking right now? “…check on us in about… ten? We might be ready for dessert by then.” I looked back up at Beth, whose eyes were a bit wet. She was likely aware of what I was doing to her until I made her forget. Mmm… that can be fun during the right circumstances… She left us alone again. “Finish eating,” I told Michael.

  I used the silence to mull over the new information while they picked at the salad. Fake name, fake home address. Not just fake, their apartment was one in an entire furnished – but vacant – complex. The parking lot that was vehicular storage. Michael has self-defense training. They were carrying a knife at least the second night we crossed paths and weren’t afraid to use it.

  They’re currently able to avoid my mental hold. And, if they have a breaking point that won’t result in permanent disfigurement, I haven’t found it yet. I thought they might have some sort of specialized training on board, but is it a little more than that? Is Michael Intelligence? If Elizabeth isn’t working in the same space, she at least knows what Michael does. That’s why she’s treating them like a stranger tonight.

  “Did you decide on dessert?” Beth cleared the table while she waited.

  “I’m ready to go home.” He looked ready.

  Me too. “We’ll be taking the check, then.” I left cash, a decent tip. Marc–Michael was a bit more stable as they got to their feet; a good meal could do wonders.

  They looked at the bathroom as we walked past. “Did you need to go?” The limitations of a human body.

  “I can wait.”

  At home they’d just go. This was the first time I’d taken them somewhere, it makes sense that they aren’t sure what’s appropriate. “Go, if you need to.” Actually, they’ve never asked me for anything even if it meets a basic need. That’s probably also why they refused to order for themself.

  “What if there’s a window in there and I use it to escape again?” Continuing our game? Does being in a public space make you feel a little bold? Mmm… I’ll still get you.

  “If you wanted my help, all you had to do was ask.” I walked them to the bathroom.

  “I don’t need your help.”

  Too bad, you’ve got it. I like helping. I’m very helpful. I locked the door and took them to the nearest urinal.

  “I can do it myself.”

  “Why would you want to when I’m here?”

  I unzipped them from behind and, after a moment of teasing, pulled out their cock. They were already tense from my contact and that only worsened when someone came in from outside. Two someones - men, once they spoke. Elizabeth greeted them with a sense of familiarity. Regulars?

  “I can’t pee with you holding my dick.”

  You can and will. “It’s okay if you’re feeling shy.” Warmth was coming off of the bite and glanced at their neck. Would kissing it hurt? I fought the urge to mess with the wound and slipped my free hand under the front of their shirt instead. “We’ll stay here ‘til you’re ready, I'll entertain myself while I wait.” We aren’t going anywhere ‘til you piss for me. My fingers slid over a nipple when I reached their chest and I gave it a light squeeze.

  As much as I enjoyed watching them struggle to perform under pressure, we needed to move on before one of the new guests needed this bathroom. Or, we can take the party out there. Everyone’s invited. The two new arrivals, Beth, the cooks. Michael will see how gentle I’ve been with them at home. I’ll show them what could’ve been them – should’ve been them – that night by their car.

  What if they do work together? As a family of modern day vampire hunters and this diner is their day job? I briefly revisited that fantasy. I can take both of them at once. I’ll keep Elizabeth alive just long enough for me to fuck her son to the rhythm of her last breaths.

  Their stream stopped as quickly as it started. “Aw, almost.” I hovered over the wound for a moment… tempted… but pinched their ear between my teeth instead. Did they stop because I’m getting worked up? Can they tell? I hungrily brought their ass against me. Can you tell now? They stumbled and I caught them before they fell. Ah, fuck, I already forgot how weak you are right now. It didn’t make me want them any less.

  “You’re not making it easy.”

  Easy is boring. “I haven’t made it hard.” I haven’t made you hard. In my head, I was still fucking them in the bloodbath I’d turn this place into. Elizabeth would spend her final moments learning Michael belongs to me. A vampire and his hunter.

  They started again and I didn’t let go of their cock until they finished. I washed my hands and, after adjusting myself through my pants, waited by the door until they were ready. It might be a while – Michael went rigid once they saw themselves in the mirror.

  I interrupted them after several minutes passed of them lost in thought, aimlessly rinsing their soap-free hands: “Ready, Michael?” I was glad to finally have their name.

  “Yeah.”

  I had them walk through the door first; as much as I could reasonably plan for it, I never wanted them to have the chance to lock or barricade themselves inside anywhere. Their palm brushed against mine and I glanced down as they got a better hold of my hand.

  They moved to stand at my side as we made our exit. After the rough last few hours I’ve given you, to what do I owe this gesture? Ah, well. My hand, now. I’ll let you have it back when we get home.

  Maybe.