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Mike wakes up draped over the altar. It takes him several minutes to actually recognize it for what it is- his head is ringing, and it hurts. Probably where they hit him. Mike pulls at the manacles binding him to the altar and tries to remember what set the cultists off. They’d been discussing their upcoming ‘virgin’ sacrifice and then it all goes black. And then he remembers the other details about the sacrifice.

He pulls at the manacles harder, but he feels drugged, and it’s too dark to see anything. There’s just enough room that he can touch one wrist with the fingers of the other hand and pets all the way around the cuff- its solid metal. That doesn’t quite make sense, but it makes his stomach feel funny for some reason. He tries to remember why-

A door opens somewhere near, and Mike freezes. Somehow it only occurs to him then that he’s naked. Mike keeps quiet, listening as hard as he can, but there’s no other sounds to say if someone came in, or left, or if it was the wind.

A hand comes down on his lower back, tracing slowly up, and Mike struggles to look back.

“Shhh.” Henry says, but he doesn’t take his hand off Mike’s back.

“Get me out of here.” Mike growls, pulling at the manacles again, hearing them rattle against the heavy oak of the altar.

“I’m trying-” Henry comes around in front of him, crouching. Even then Mike can’t quite see him, but he does hear Henry curse. “How long ago did they leave?” He asks, and Mike flinches back when Henry touches his face.

“I don’t know- I was out-“ Mike snaps, looking around even though he can’t see anything. He knows the worshippers were going to do a ceremony in the woods, and then they’re coming back for the sacrifice… And they have to be gone by then. They have to, because it’s a ceremony that involves all of the followers, starting with their leader, and it ends with him dead. He pulls at the chains again.

“Henry, get me out of here.” He growls.

“I told Vicki not to let you do this.” Henry replied, and Mike felt him feeling over the chains, then the vampire’s fingers around his wrists.

Henry goes as still as a statue and curses again. “You let them put cursed manacles on you?”

“I wasn’t awake for it.” Mike retorted, pulling at the chains again. “Wait- cursed?”

“Mike, these aren’t going to come off.” Henry pointed out. He tangled their fingers, ran Mike’s fingers across the smooth metal band. “There’s no hole for a key.”

“How the hell do they come off?”

There was a long, horrible moment where Mike could hear the other shoe dropping. “Oh no. Hell no.”

“Is there- They’re linked through the altar.” Henry felt around and finally sat back on his haunches. “Mike-“

“Are you serious? That’s it? I’m stuck like this?” Mike demanded, rattling the chains and still feeling weak.

“They said it had to be a virgin sacrifice, didn’t they?” Henry pointed out. “You’re- Sex is part of the ritual or else they’d have to wait for the sacrifice to rot to clear the altar-“

“I have to have sex to get them off?”

“It’s a virgin sacrifice.”

Mike considered cursing, rattled his chains, then considered what would happen when the cultists returned.

“Henry… I don’t want to-“ He started to growl out, then hung his head. “I don’t want to die like this.”

“Mike-“ Henry was crouching in front of him, and suddenly both of his cool hands were on either side’s of Mike’s face, tipping him up. In the darkness Mike couldn’t see a thing, but he guessed maybe Henry could. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

He shook himself free of the comforting touch and rolled his shoulders. Bent over a stone table at the waist wasn’t exactly the most comfortable position. “We need to get out of here.” Was all he said. Henry could hear between the lines, thankfully, and he got up, stalking off and coming back, but this time behind Mike.

“I didn’t think I’d ever be doing this.” Henry admitted, and ran his hand down Mike’s back. Mike shuddered at the touch and pulled at the manacles again.

“With a man?” God, he really, really hoped Henry- That all those looks he gave everyone meant something- That this wasn’t his first time, too.

“With you.” Henry admitted. “You’ve got to relax.”

“We have to get out of here.” Mike reminded him. At some point the cultists were going to return. And despite the stroking of Henry’s hands down his spine he didn’t think there was any chance of relaxing, especially not here.

“Have you ever-“

“No.” Mike snapped and hung his head again.

“It’s ok. I’ll be gentle.” Henry reassured him. The slow touched became a massage quickly, and then the vampire’s hands wandered farther down than Mike’s back, and more reassuring words made their appearance. He’d found oil somewhere, or at least something slick. The first finger was hard, made him squirm against the altar and pant. And then Henry did something that made him grind his teeth and groan- He heard Henry snicker softly to himself, and then Mike snarled as he did it again. He was gasping breathlessly when he realized there was a second finger, and that eased into a third, with Henry’s other hand petting his back and thighs. “Alright?”

“Just-“ Mike gasped. “Hurry.”

Henry’s fingers slipped away and then the vampire was sliding in, making Mike groan, hand’s clenching on the chain between the manacles. It was several long minutes before he relaxed enough, and all that time Henry’s hands were on his sides, the back of his neck, in his hair, gentling him like a horse.

“They’re still on.” Mike pointed out.

“You have to orgasm.” Henry guessed, and have a little half thrust that had Mike coming up on the balls of his feet and shuddering after. Bent over a stone altar might be the most undignified position he’d ever been in but apparently it was a good one for what they were doing. He tried to think of Vicki or a half dozen other beautiful women he’d known, but faced with the feel of Henry’s hands, the sound of his voice gasping out encouragement, he couldn’t help but see flat muscles and russet curls in his mind. Those hands pulled him back a little, away from the stone, then slipped around and Mike wanted to sob, feeling them pulling him there. It was easier not to think then, either, just thrusting and grinding back, the slide of muscles and the throb of endorphins.

He growled Henry’s name as he came and felt the metal fall away from around his hands. Henry pulled him back and up, for a moment pressing them together, back to chest, sucked a sharp kiss to the side of his throat and came.

“Jesus, Mike.” He groaned and then the lights came on, blinding them both. Someone shouted something, which several others yelled, and they both turned to see the cult’s leader by the far door, hand on the light switch, his followers spilling in the door behind him. Henry jerked away, refastening his pants. Sweeping up a thick, crimson drape from a nearby chair he flung it at Mike, putting himself between the cultists and the naked detective.

“You can’t have him!” The cult leader snarled. “He’s defiled the sacrifice!” Several men and women took up the outraged shout, dashing into the room, which looked like a Halloween themed gymnasium. Mike struggled to cover himself in the fabric, then lunged forward as screaming woman came at Henry with a wooden chair. He shoved the vampire to the floor, taking the blow to part of his shoulder and feeling the old wood shatter, shards spraying them both.

As another cultist came towards them, fury in his eyes the doors at the other end of the gym burst open, spilling police. In minutes it seemed like all the cultists were handcuffed and groaning on the floor and Vicki and Coreen were hovering frantically.

Somehow Henry was gone, leaving Mike to explain wearing only a red velvet drape as best he could.