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The house sat at the dead end of a gravel road, hemmed in by pine trees that swayed black against a bruise-purple sky. One porch light. One window glowing yellow upstairs. Cicadas drilled their summer racket into the dark and somewhere a hound bayed at nothing.
Remmick stood at the tree line with his hands in the pockets of some trousers that didn't quite belong to him.
He tilted his head, listening past the cicadas until he caught two heartbeats inside that house, one thudding slow from slumber, the other quicker.
He smiled and his teeth glinted.
‘Two fer the price o' one, that'll do nicely.’ He thought to himself.
He'd been hungry since dusk, gums aching and jaw twitching while he stalked the highways and the truck stops.
The lock on the back door wasn't even that strong. He pressed his palm against the wood and felt the threshold push back, now just two soft mortal animals breathing inside, ripe and unguarded.
“Kyle! Is tha’ you?” Your voice reached his ears, mild curiosity mixed with a hint of disinterest.
Remmick stayed in silence while listening to your heartbeat across the room, going from a small spike given by a surge of surprise to slowly calming down and reaching a normal rate.
“Come on in, wha’ you’re wait in’ for? Could have swore I spotted some wolves outside this mornin’…” you mumbled the last part wi’ an hint of annoyance.
Could you have really wished tha’ the other person in this house had met said beasts?
The old vampire, who now stepped through the invisible force that would have had him locked outside, had his interest spiked up.
The kitchen smelled like cheap beer and he moved through it without making the floorboards groan, steps silent as cat paws. The living room was dim, old TV still on, throwing blue light over a sagging couch.
He paused at the staircase and listened upward, slow heartbeat was up there in the bedroom, snoring, even.
Pathetic.
Someone steps inside his residence and he doesn’t even have the sense to investigate.
The other quick heartbeat was closer, down the hallway and behind a half-open door, where amber lamplight spilled across the hardwood.
Remmick padded toward it, drawn like a moth to light.
He stopped just outside the doorframe and looked in.
You were sitting on the floor in front of a low bookshelf, knees folded under you, a paperback open in your lap while wearing an old t-shirt soft from a hundred washings, collar stretched out from lots of use and baring one of your collarbones.
Loose sleep shorts and bare feet, hair mussed from running your hand through it while your lips moved a little as you read.
The lamplight caught the side of your throat, vein there pulsing visibly, a pretty blue line under skin Remmick suddenly wanted to taste more than anything he'd wanted in a hundred years.
He went very still as the hunger didn't go away but deepened and twisted into something that hadn't been there on century of being alive.
Observing the way your bottom lip dragged between your teeth and how one of your hands rested on your thigh, fingers idly stroking the skin there without you even noticing.
"Well, fook me sideways," he breathed.
Killing you would be a waste.
There were better uses for a mouth like that.
His blue eyes turned red as his gaze caught a framed photo on the wall displaying the handsome lad in front of him with another man extremely close.
Claws began to replace the fingers of his hands as he looked back over his shoulder at the dark stairs where your boyfriend was up there, snoring, unaware. Some sour-breathed lump of a man who got to come home to this every night and probably didn't even notice what he had.
Probably rolled over and went to sleep without touching you.
Remmick could smell the loneliness on you from across the room.
You were starved and you didn't even know it.
A slow, mean smile spread over his mouth.
"Oh, lad," he whispered to himself, "we're gonna have ourselves a long night."
He turned and went up the stairs first.
The bedroom door creaked as he spotted a broad-shouldered individual sleeping shirtless.
Remmick stood at the foot of the bed and considered the easy kill by just opening his throat and being done with it.
But he'd already decided to be cruel tonight.
He moved fast, one hand clamping over the man's mouth as the other dragged him bodily out of the bed by the hair.
Sad man came awake thrashing, a muffled roar against Remmick's palm, fists swinging at empty air.
Remmick took a punch to the ribs and laughed.
"Easy now, big fella," he crooned, dragging him toward the door. "Yer in for a treat. Don't go ruinin' it."
The man got an elbow loose and swung and Remmick caught his wrist and twisted, bones popping with ease thanks to his supernatural strength and your boyfriend screamed into Remmick's hand, tears springing up in his eyes.
"There," Remmick said, almost gently. "Now we c'n talk."
He hauled him down the stairs and his feet thudded each step, dragging while kicking weakly.
Remmick was smaller than him by a head and yet handled him like a sack of potatoes as he brought him into the living room, dumped him on the floor and before the man could try to crawl, Remmick was on him again.
A knee in his back, hands at his arms, a length of telephone cord ripped from the wall already in his grip.
He bound the boyfriend's wrists behind him so tight the rope-burn started bleeding right away, then his ankles before hauling him upright by the hair and throwing him into the wooden chair in the corner.
A swipe of his clawed hand left deep marks on the man’s naked chest until the man was a trussed-up roast staring at him with bulging eyes.
Remmick stepped back and admired his work.
"Cozy?" He asked satisfied right before hitting him with a backhand that snapped Kyle's head sideways and split his lip wide open.
The man spat blood and started to shout and Remmick hit him again, harder.
By the time he was done, the boyfriend's nose was crooked and weeping, one eye was swelling shut and his teeth were stained pink.
He sagged in the chair, wheezing.
"Now," Remmick said. He bent down so they were nose to nose and his eyes had fully crimson around the edges. "Yer gonna sit there an' be a good lad. Watch an' when I'm finished, I'll do ye the kindness o' makin' it quick. Y'hear me?"
The addresses man made a noise that wasn't a word.
"Grand," Remmick said. He patted the man's cheek, scooping a bit of iron liquid and licking it with his tongue, grimacing at the stale taste.
He stood up and turned toward the hallway. "Now, where's tha' pretty lad got to."
You'd heard the noise and you'd already stood up, paperback dropped and heart kicking hard against your ribs while halfway to the door where the phone was when the door pushed open and Remmick was right in front of you.
He was lean with a sturdy built behind the blood-soaked shirt, damp dark hair curling against his forehead.
"Hello, darlin'," he smiled at you maliciously and you bolted without even thinking, ducking past him into the hallway. You got three steps before his hand closed around the back of your neck.
One second he was in the doorway, the next he was behind right behind and he lifted you up onto your toes with a single one hand, walking you into the living room like a kitten carried by the scruff.
"Don't be like tha'," he was saying, mouth right at your ear, breath strangely cold and stinky of iron. "I just wanna get to know ye."
He shoved you into the middle of the room and you went sprawling.
When you scrambled up, the first thing you saw was your boyfriend tied to the chair, bleeding, one eye swollen and looking at you with such a desperate animal panic that your stomach dropped clean.
Remmick caught you around the waist and pulled you back against his chest the second you tried to go towards Kyle and free him.
He was cold and strong, an arm across your abdomen that bent you back against him like you weighed nothing.
"Uh-uh," he tutted against the flesh of your cheek and he fought with himself to not take a bite at how delicious you smelled. "He's not the show tonight, sweetheart. You are."
Long pale fingers spread across your throat, thumb under your jaw while tilting your head back against his shoulder so you had to look up at the ceiling.
You felt his nose drag along the line of your neck as he inhaled.
He was making low pleasant rumbles while you were breathing in short, panicky bursts. Across the room your boyfriend was making a muffled, awful sound, kicking his bound feet against the chair legs.
"Please," you got out. "Please don't, please—"
"Shhh, shhh, shhh." Remmick's lips brushed the shell of your ear. "Tha's not the word I wanna hear from ye yet. We'll get there."
His hand on your abdomen slid down, past your navel and over the soft cotton of your sleep shorts. He cupped you through the fabric, palm flat, fingers curling and your whole body locked up in a horrified jolt.
"Oh, would ye look at tha'," he purred right before turning you around in his arms easily and now you were facing him, hands settling on your waist and his face was right there in front of yours.
He was handsome in such a blasphemous way that it made your skin crawl.
High cheekbones, a mouth that turned up at one corner with sharp fangs in sight, up close his eyes were too red.
"Now, sweetheart," he said. "I've a question an' I want ye t' answer me honest. Can ye do tha'?"
You didn't speak, couldn't actually.
"When was the last time," he said, dragging one thumb along your cheekbone, "tha' fella over there made ye feel good?"
You made a small wounded sound.
"Hm?" Remmick tilted his head. "I'll wager it's been a while. I c'n smell it on ye all tha’ sadness." He clicked his tongue. "Sad an’ wasteful."
Your boyfriend was shouting through the gag of his own swollen mouth now, a guttural, rage-soaked howl and Remmick didn't even glance at him.
"It's alright, pet," he murmured. "I'll see to ye proper."
Right after he kissed you, mouth landing on yours and prying it open with the press of his tongue, cold as the rest of him when it slid against your warm one.
He held you up with his hands at your waist, tasting heavily of iron and his teeth scraped your lower lip sharply from the prick of fangs.
When he pulled back you were dizzy, lip bleeding and he licked the smear of red off his own mouth with slow satisfaction.
"Mmm, sweet."
He walked you backward, your bare heels skidded on the rug right before your back hit the wall and his body pressed into yours, all that lean cold weight pinning you. He was hard already, could feel him through his jeans, a thick bulge against your hip that made your stomach flip with a sick, confused heat.
"Look at him," Remmick said.
You shook your head.
"Look at him, sweetheart." His hand came up and gripped your jaw, turning your head until you were facing the chair and your boyfriend's good eye was wide and wet. He was struggling, ropes biting into his arms, chair scraping the floor. "Yer gonna keep yer eyes on him while I do this."
"Please," you whispered.
"Tha's not the word."
His other hand caught the hem of your t-shirt and dragged it up, cotton scraped over your nipples and you shuddered while he made a low pleased sound at the back of his throat. He pulled it over your head and let it drop, air hitting your bare chest and your nipples drew up tight.
"Ahh, would ye look at tha'." His knuckles dragged down your sternum lightly. "So handsome"
His mouth went to your neck open-mouthed, wet thing sucking bruises up under your jaw, dragging fang-tips along the artery without breaking skin and you couldn't help the noise that came out of you that sounded too much like a moan.
Across the room your boyfriend made an absolute strangled noise of fury.
"Oh, he heard tha'," Remmick said, delighted. "Good lad. Make tha' noise again fer me."
He bit down lightly to break enough skin for fat beads of blood to well up and your back arched off the wall into him. He sucked hard and the way he moaned into your skin was obscene.
"Fookin'… y'taste like ye were made fer me." He pulled back and both lips sharp teeth were red almost of the same tone eyes his eyes were, the iris swallowed up in it.
He looked drunk and feral-hungry while looking at you like you were the only thing in the world.
"Down," he said.
“Look… please just let us go—“ He pushed your shoulders and you slid down the wall to your knees, hardwood cold under your kneecaps as he stood over you, undoing his belt with a bit of goofy difficulty from using one clawed hand while his other was still in your hair.
"Yer gonna keep watchin' yer fella," he said. "But yer gonna do this with me first, hm? Open."
The belt clinked, button on his jeans popping and the zipper rasped down.
He shoved his jeans and shorts down over his hips in one motion and his cock sprang up against his abs, slapping your face once free.
He was huge, quite pale and veined heavily, head flushed an angry red that didn't match his color anywhere else. It curved up against his abdomen, longer and thicker around than your boyfriend's. A bead of clear precum hung at the slit from how excited the monster hovering above was.
"Open," he said again, Irish lilt music to your ears as your mouth watered against your will as he made the wet top kiss your sealed lips tauntingly.
When you opened your mouth with shame burning your face and chest painfully, he first dragged the head of his cock across your lips, painting them slick before sliding the head onto your tongue and holding you there.
"Suck."
You closed your mouth around him and sucked and the long, broken Irish swear he let out was almost worth it.
He let you have him slow at first, working just the tip, tongue laving the underside, lips stretched wide around the flare of him as he stroked your hair, almost tender.
"There ye are," he murmured. "There's a good lad. Look at how y'take to it."
You couldn't help the glance you gave the chair where your boyfriend had stopped struggling and staring at you with a look hollowly.
"Aw, he doesn't like seein' tha' mouth wrapped 'round somethin' that ain't his. Tha's fair, I wouldn't either, if it were mine to lose."
Then he pushed deeper, head of him hitting the back of your throat and your eyes welled up immediately, head smacking the wall behind and your hands flying to his thighs to push, but he was solid under your palms and didn’t budge, letting you choke and breathe slightly through your nose so you could adjust.
"Easy, pet. Y'can take it." His thumb traced the bulge of himself in your throat from the outside, marveling.
"Yeah… y'were made fer me."
He pulled back and let you suck in a breath right before pushing in again, deeper this time and holding.
Pulling back and pushing, rhythm patient yet cruel and his cock made your jaw ache around it, every time the head pushed into your throat you felt your eyes water and nose running while your own cock started to swell against the front of your shorts.
You didn't want to be hard but he was hitting some place in your brain that had been hungry for years and the obscene, full feeling of him in your mouth was making your thighs shake.
His eyes had drifted down between your legs and his mouth curled in a slow, knowing grin.
"Oh, sweetheart," he breathed. "Would ye look at tha'. Yer gone all hard for me an’ I've barely started."
He pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop and a long string of saliva connected your lip to his cockhead till it broke and dribbled down your chin. He wiped it off with his clawed thumb and pushed the sharp tip into your mouth and you sucked it without thinking.
Delighted, he laughed.
"Up. C'mon." He hauled you to your feet by the arm and walked you to the couch, bending you over the back of it, bare chest pressed into the worn upholstery so that you were facing the chair where your wet faced boyfriend, with tear-tracks cutting through the blood, was restrained.
His good eye fixed on you and unable to look away.
Remmick hooked his fingers in the waistband of your sleep shorts and dragged them down.
He bared one cheek of your ass and made a soft, pleased noise, letting the shorts fall around your ankles and he ran his hand reverently up the back of your thigh, over the curve of your ass before squeezing.
"Beautiful. Fookin' beautiful, lad."
You felt his cool palm part there and you squeezed your eyes shut.
He gather the endless amount of drool that pooled inside his mouth and traveled down his chin.
Some drops splashed on your naked back as his thumb pressed against your hole, slick and cold, circling and rubbing it as he worked the viscous solution into you with his thumb, then with two fingers followed by a third, his other hand stroking up and down your spine.
His fingers were in you now, three long and cold things crooking against a place that made you jolt and let out a noise you immediately hated yourself for.
Your boyfriend's face crumpled.
"There it is," Remmick said. "Tha's what's been goin' untended, eh?"
He pressed it again and again, working his fingers in deep and dragging them out before shoving them back, your hips started to move without your permission, pushing back against his hand and a hot mortifying flush ran up your chest.
"Tha's right, lad. Yer body knows what it wants even if yer head don't." He crooned and pulled his fingers out.
The thick blunt head of him press up against your slick opening.
Before he pushed in, he leaned down over your back and reached out, hand closed on your wrist, guiding it toward his face. He pricked it on his fang and a sharp gasp traveled all over your body.
He smeared the blood thick across his palm, mouth closing around your thumb and sucking with a low rumble in his throat while reaching down between your bodies and slicking himself with it, hand wrapped around his cock.
It was hot now thanks to your blood, almost feverish. It went into you slick and strange, a buzzing, electric warmth that made your insides flutter as he pushed in and the blunt head spread you wide as you cried out, nails clawing at the upholstery.
Your boyfriend lurched in his chair and Remmick groaned, forehead pressing between your shoulder blades.
"Oh fook, lad, yer tight."
He pushed deeper inch by inch, very slick but you still felt every ridge and vein from the thickness of him.
The stretch burned and ached as it went on and on. Just when you thought it had to be all of him, more went in as he kept feeding it into you, hips inching forward and cock splitting your walls as you bit down into the upholstery to keep from screaming.
His hips finally met your ass to indicate he was fully seated, pulsing inside you in a heavy throb that seemed to fill your whole pelvis.
It made you feel both impaled and rearranged.
He held still and let you breathe, kissing and lapping with his tongue the back of your neck.
"Sweetheart, the rest is just fer ye."
He pulled out dragging every inch and sparkling sensation that made you whine, all before pushing back in.
On the third thrust he angled himself and hit your prostate just where his fingers had found, your whole body lit up absurdly.
You sobbed not only from pain, cock throbbing between your stomach and the back of the couch and every drag of him inside you sent a pulse of positive feedbacks through you nerves.
His thrusts deepened and the slap of his hips against your ass got louder as he fucked you slow and deep and he made sure every stroke dragged across that spot, tears were running down your face now but so was something humiliating you couldn't stop.
Your boyfriend, with his split lip and his ruined eye and the ropes biting into his arms, was watching and his face had gone past horror into something blank but you couldn't look away from him because you'd been told not to.
Being observed was making it worse… and better.
It contributed to your cock leaking against the couch in a steady drool that left a wet patch on the fabric.
"He's never had ye like this, pet?" Remmick murmured at your ear, riding your orgasm slowly.
"Stop," you choked. "Stop, please—"
"Stop?" Remmick's voice was a sweet thing. He thrust deep and you sobbed. "Y'sure tha's what y'mean, lad?"
He hit that spot again and ye whined.
"Cause yer prick is sayin' somethin' different. Y'see this?" His long and dangerous hand came around to wrap around your cock and you nearly came right there with the way you leaking thick and steady over his fingers.
So hard it hurt.
He stroked you lazily in time with his harsh thrusts.
"Stop's not the word," he whispered. "C'mon now. Try again, use yer pretty voice."
You couldn't and he fucked you harder and the head of his cock was hammering your prostate with every stroke, your knees were buckling, only his hand on your hip was keeping you up.
Somewhere in the middle of it, in the dazed humiliated dark of your own head, the thought of how this red-eyed monster using you was so much better than your boyfriend.
It crept firmly and got stronger the more he fucked you.
Not like the restrained man who got on and off in five minutes, never asked what you liked. Your boyfriend, who hadn't touched you in two months and didn't seem to notice. Remmick had been inside you for ten minutes and he had already found every nerve you owned and pulled noises out of your system you didn't know you could make.
Some sick part of you was grateful and you hated yourself for it.
He drove into you hard as deep as possible and you cried out.
"Y' just figured out tha' yer fella over there hasn't been doin' his job. Yer just figured out tha' an’ I'm givin' ye what he was supposed to."
"No—"
"Don't lie to me, pet." His hand left your cock and came up to your jaw, turning your face so you had to look at the chair again and meet that hollow staring eye. "Look at him an' tell me I'm wrong."
You couldn't make a sound, your throat had closed up and Remmick made a sound of soft, satisfied wickedness.
"Tha's what I thought."
His mouth found the side of your neck and his fangs went deep, a hot punch of pain that bloomed instantly into more pleasure.
While you felt him drink in avid pulls as he drank, his hips kept moving, large cock always hitting your prostate.
You came untouched, your cock spasming and spilling all over the back of the couch in long thick pulses, your whole body wrung out into one shaking knot. You made a noise that might have been the red-eyed monster drooling on the wound he made on your neck.
Across the room, the chair scraped as your boyfriend was making an awful sound.
Remmick pulled off your neck with a wet gasp, his lips and chin smeared red as he kept pumping himself into you and faster, clawed fingers digging bruises into your hips before he was coming too with a long curse in a language you didn't know, cock pulsing inside you so deep you felt it in your stomach, hot and endless, filling you up until it leaked back out around him.
He stayed in you, bent over your back and panted against your shoulder, his cool body finally a little warm, hair damp against your skin and drool traveling down your back.
"There," he breathed. "Tha's a good lad."
He pressed a kiss to the bite mark on your neck and it throbbed.
"Y' did so well fer me."
You were shaking, tears running into the upholstery and you couldn't tell anymore which part of you was wet from what nor could you look at your boyfriend.
Remmick pulled out and you whimpered at the empty drag of it, cum and blood running out of you down your thighs. He looked down at the mess he'd made and a quiet, pleased sound rumbled in his chest.
Then he turned and looked at the chair, your boyfriend had gone very quiet, head hung and shoulders shook.
Remmick wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing red across his jaw while walking over.
"Darlin’," he addressed you without sparing a look at your messy state. "Here's the question."
His thumb traced your bottom lip.
"D'ye come with me, or d'ye stay here?"
You didn't answer but your hands had crept up without permission and curled themselves into the front of his shirt.
"Aye," he murmured. "Tha's what I thought."
He bent his head and kissed you, mouth tasting like iron that you were sure you’ll need to get used to.
Suddenly Remmick full vamp-speeded towards your boyfriend, harshly pulling at his hairs to expose his neck before driving his fangs there, taking a big chunk of flesh and bathing his head in the geyser of artery’s blood for a millisecond.
The other type of hunger that first drove him here took over as he drank everything the body below was spraying at him until said person stopped emanating muffled ugly noises.
Weakly you had turned around to not see the second Remmick’ fangs sank in the flesh and atrocious screams of pain echoed inside your ears.
It took one blink of an eye to see Remmick right in front of ye, clawed hands gripping your waist an’ pullin’ your weak body into his sticky warm one, mouth tinted in crimson liquid engulfing your own and parting your lips for an avid kiss, his tongue immediately breaching in and cradling your own as a purr rumbled from his throat into your open mouth.