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All those human emotions and feelings still were unfamiliar to Doorman. He managed to learn the basics, some concepts, and more or less managed to grasp what “frustration” was (thanks to working in The Baroness and meeting all kinds of people) but this feeling was something completely new.
He agreed to help Drifter who ran into Venator today. The priest came prepared, and managed to pin Drifter down with a snap trap. He also had a blessed stake with him, which perfectly pierced right next to Drifter's heart. The Doorman was almost impressed that the vampire managed to run away.
Too bad he decided to show up in the Baroness, covered in blood, scaring the customers and spilling that blood all over the freshly washed floor.
Yet, the Doorman agreed to help. Drifter was a valuable ally, and it’d be a shame if he died because of one pathetic stake. Not that the Doorman cared about the results of the ritual, no. But Drifter dying so early would make things less interesting. He almost wished that it was that bratty vampire girl with attitude who got shot.
He took Drifter to one of the available rooms. There was no reason to ask Drifter if he will be able to cover the costs later, so mentally he started preparing himself for the conversation with the manager. “I could not let this gentleman… a person die in the middle of the corridor, that’d affect the Baroness’ reputation.”
He dragged the vampire onto the bed, and moved to the cabinet. How do you even help vampires with their wounds? Does putting a curse negate the blessing? He grabbed a bottle of water, and turned to Drifter…
…and felt fangs digging into his collarbone.
His back hit the wall, and soon he slid over it. He was not used to pain, and it was the first time someone bit him. Not to mention this feeling of his blood being sucked out of the wound. It was all unfamiliar to him.
It made him feel weird. But for some reason, he welcomed that feeling. His smell suddenly got sharper, and he felt weakness in his limbs. Drifter reeked, but in this mix of earthy smell of dirt and suffocating stench of unwashed clothes, the sour scent of sweat hit his nostrils. His body got warmer, but only in the lower area. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from moaning. His heart beat faster, but that might have been caused by the blood loss.
“That’s enough.” said the Doorman, grabbing the vampire by his chin and pulling him away. Parts of his human body stayed in Drifter’s mouth. The Doorman now had a gaping wound on his collarbone, ripped upper part of his uniform, and for some reason his penis was hard.
Drifter slowly gulped down the muscle he ripped out of him. “I didn’t expect you to like it that much, pretty boy.” he said with his usual heavy accent, and a smirk showed up on his face. His hand moved to the Doorman's hips, and one of his dark nails hooked on the uniform's waistband. “I can’t just leave you like that now, can I?”
Well, Drifter definitely felt better. “It seems like I helped you enough.” The Doorman managed to form a polite smile “I believe both of us have to move on to other things.” like quickly finding a new jacket before someone sees him like that. He did not wanted to scare The Baroness’ guests.
Drifter was not listening. His tongue moved across exposed bone, finally reaching scraps of ginger’s throat.
He finally looked up, and locked eyes with the Doorman. His lips formed something that could resemble a smile. “What is it, are you scared?”.
The polite smile never left the Doorman's face. “Be grateful that I'm allowing you to feast on the Baroness’ ground.”
Next thing he felt was his throat being ripped open. A weak moan left his lips, before he was no longer able to speak. With an ear-scratching crush, he realized that the vampire must have ripped off a bone out of him. Which one? He must check it later to properly fix his human body.
The vampire's lips were now touching his earlobe. A sticky mix of saliva and blood streamed down, right into his ear canal, deafening him. Yet, he still managed to catch the sound of his uniform (or more like what was left of it) being ripped off his body, leaving his torso exposed.
His lower body got hotter, reminding that his cock was still hard and unattended. He tried to say something, but he only managed to make a wet, slouchy sound. A trail of blood streamed down his cheek.
Drifter sighed, pulling back, and looking at him with a satisfied smirk. “No screaming in despair, no begging for mercy, no fighting back? You truly are out of this world, Doorman. But don’t worry, I know how to make someone like you beg.”
Doorman’s eyes moved along Drifter’s hand, which with decisive move revealed Doorman’s private area. The vampire looked around the room. “I doubt that you came prepared.”.
“The Baroness is prepared for all kinds of encounters” Doorman replied in his mind, but then he felt Drifter’s punch hitting his exposed stomach. His body somehow managed to curl up, and he could swear he felt blood going down his leg. Next, he felt a sharp nail opening his stomach, and a hand pulling a handful of crushed guts outside. “I actually don’t like it too rough.”
Gently, he smeared blood on Doorman’s now throbbing cock. Next, he pulled off his own trousers (or, more like rags). As he threw them away, he grabbed the Doorman's head and positioned it in a way that forced the Doorman to observe whatever was about to happen.
“Now, watch.” he said, and then, with his bloodied finger’s, exposed his opening. Arousal fluid mixed with blood, creating pinkish fluid that splattered on Doorman’s thighs.
When Drifter slowly moved Doorman’s cock and moved it across his opening, Doorman finally remembered what this feeling was called.
Arousal. Lust. Desire.
Emotions that mortals needed in order to procreate. Now, he found himself in this position, unable to think about anything else but screwing Drifter and filling him with cum. Pathetic.
Drifter finally lowered himself on his dick with a soft gasp, followed by a moan. It was… pleasant. He slowly forced his hand onto Drifter’s thigh, squeezing it, and drawing circles with his fingers.
The vampire leaned over, and licked the open wound on the Doorman's collarbone. “Does a person like you have a heart like a human? Does it taste the same?” Drifter asked. He has, and it just started beating faster. A wet noise came out of his abused throat again.
Just then, Drifter stuck his hand between ginger’s rib cage, and smashed said heart.
The Doorman released with a weak spasm that took over his body.
Before Drifter left, he covered the Doorman with his coat (“I can always hunt myself a new one”). It only took the Doorman around half an hour to collect his guts, which were spilled all across the floor, and put them back inside. Thankfully his skin closed itself without any issues. He will make sure to fix all his insides later, for now he focused on his outer look, and hiding occasional blood spilling from his mouth and nose. Getting the new uniform turned out to be the hardest part. But it was nothing that little bit of reality warping and forming a new doorway into a magazine couldn't fix. When it comes to cleaning up a room, he kind of got really good at it, so it was not an issue.
Yet, he couldn’t forget that feeling. He sometimes had to step aside from his duties and lock himself in the toilet, getting off to memories of Drifter and his brutal methods. The feeling of getting his skin ripped open, and having his heart smashed, still felt so fresh, but no matter how hard it tried, it was not as satisfying when he tried doing it to himself.
The vampire somehow seemed aware of that. Next time they met, it was the middle of the night. He felt Drifter’s hand on his shoulder before he heard him.
“Ready for a second round, pretty boy?”