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Can't See No Reason To Put Up a Fight

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Charley startles him and Peter takes a look at the kid. He sighs heavily and wonders how he could be so desperate for alcohol when he should have been so desperate to run. What's a shot of Midori when his life is on the line? Charley steps closer and Peter knows the kid's not human, the tiniest flash of light from the strip below them glints off the sharp fangs that the kid now possesses.

"He got to you," Peter flatly says.

Charley nods, his eyes turning black. "Are you going to run?"

"Not much point is there?" Peter asks as he grabs a random bottle off the shelf behind him. He holds it up so Charley can see. "Do you mind if I have a drink first?"

Peter's already twisting the cap off as Charley raises an eyebrow at him. The vampire nods at him and Peter drinks the five year old scotch straight from the bottle. His agent had given it to him when Peter had signed the deal at the Hard Rock. It burns as it goes down, it's not like the Midori but right now Peter's certain if he has the Midori, he'll just vomit. He's craven but he'd like to at least have a bit of dignity.

"I told you and your bird to run, didn't I?" Peter asks. "Told you that you needed an army."

"You did," Charley says.

Peter looks up in shock to find Charley a arm's length away. Most newly turned vampires are still clumsy and graceless but Charley is different. Just like he was as a kid. Peter groans at his own stupidity. He wonders if Jerry has put the pieces together and sent Charley up here to finish what Jerry had started when Peter was Charley's age. Peter takes another swallow, enjoying the way the alcohol burns his throat but makes him numb.

"So what's it going to be?"

Charley arches another eyebrow at him, he doesn't actually say the words but they hang heavy between them. That's all up to you. And Peter realizes that he doesn't want to die. He's not too keen on becoming one of the undead but it's a lot less permanent than death is.

"Fuck," Peter curses. He slams the bottle down on the counter.

Charley follows him as Peter collapses on the chair.

"Did your little friend manage to turn Ginger?"

"Does it matter?" Charley asks.

"Yeah," Peter says with a brisk nod. "I don't want to spend eternity with her riding my ass."

"What makes you think, you're going to turned?" Charley asks.

Peter laughs, the bitter sound echoes through the apartment. The kid might be doing a rather good job of intimidating him but Peter knows that if he was supposed to be dead, Charley would have already ripped out his throat.

"Well what are you waiting for? I'd say you're guaranteed on getting lucky tonight Charley," Peter says, trying to make his words sound filthy.

"Are you so ready to die?" Charley asks.

Peter stiffens when Charley climbs into his lap and Charley smirks when he feels the evidence of Peter's arousal. Peter knows how wrong this is but he can't find it in himself to care. He cups Charley's face and despite the fangs and the eyes, there's a part of him that's glad that he can't outrun the inevitable anymore. Peter pulls the kid's face closer to his and brushes his lips against Charley's. He can feel the slight sharpness of Charley's fangs and Peter knows if he's not careful, he can cut himself on them and then all bets will be off. Knowing his luck, Jerry had sent Charley to him starving for food.

Charley groans as Peter pulls him tighter into an embrace and it's Charley who deepens the kiss. His instincts are still screaming at him to run when Peter shifts them and bares his neck to Charley. The vampire practically purrs when he licks at Peter's throat with his flat tongue. Peter's left hand tangles in Charley's curls while his right clumsily undoes the buttons of Charley's shirt.

"This is wrong," Peter groans when Charley nips at his throat with blunt teeth.

"I could stop," Charley suggests.

"Fuck no!"

Charley's fang break the skin on Peter's neck and even without the taste of Charley's blood, Peter's aroused. He doesn't think he'll last much longer, which is pathetic because they're not even naked. Charley chuckles against his throat when Peter's hips buck upwards.

"We'll have all the time in the world for that," Charley says.

Peter can't even form coherent words together when Charley's fang pierce deeper and the vampire starts drinking more of his blood. Everything's hazy but Charley and his mouth on his throat. He loses track of time until Charley finally pulls away from his throat. There's a part of him that still feels horror at the sight of Charley's bloodied lips but when Charley presses them against his own, Peter comes with a strangled moan. He can feel Charley's lips curving up into a smirk against his own. The taste of his own blood should make him sick but he finds himself licking Charley's lips clean.

"That's a good boy," Charley whispers when Peter manages to nick his tongue on Charley's fangs.

Before Peter make a bigger fool of himself, Charley's pulled himself off of Peter's lap and holds out a hand to him.

"Come on, dawn is near," Charley says.

"My bedroom's rather dark and safe," Peter tells him.

Charley shakes his head at him and Peter takes the hand that's offered. He's gently dragged towards the elevator by Charley and for a moment, the realization of what's happening sinks in when he sees the blood stains from Ginger's attack. Peter stops moving and trembles. He knows that if it was any other vampire, he'd be fighting for his life. He's surrounded by weapons to ensure that he wouldn't submit yet somehow Jerry sends him Charley and he's all about lust and blood and submitting.

The vampire gently tugs him into the elevator and wraps his arms around him. Somehow it makes the world of difference, even though Peter knows that rationally it shouldn't. Charley murmurs in his ear about how good everything's going to be and Peter doesn't want to believe it but he does. When Charley licks at the bite mark on Peter's neck, Peter forgets about everything but Charley and the way that he's making him feel. Peter moans and clutches at Charley's plaid shirt.

When Charley bites his lower lip, Peter watches in fascination as the blood wells up and without even asking, he leans closers and licks the blood off of Charley's lip. He knows that this taste will do but he's beyond caring. All that matters is Charley.

((END))