Chapter Text
Blood was too expensive.
Especially at the beginning of the month when so many bills demanded payment. Rent and food bumped up against one another to jostle for first position. Food usually won out, more often than not. Today was no exception. So with a muffled sigh, Rhett glared over the counter at the smiling face of a new Cruorista at the mixing dispensary two blocks from his downtown apartment.
Rhett's bearded jaw was rigid. Mostly to stop himself from saying something too scathing about the ridiculous cost. This was one of the only places within walking distance that wasn't baby-handed with the booze in their blood blends.
The cluttered shop was full of shelves of smelly herbs and commercial grade tonics. Bottles of powders labeled in oddly cryptic warnings about stirring by the light of a full moon or only being swallowed by a virgin. Nestled alongside fizzy sodas and salty snacks, the store oozed Kitschy.
On the dark wood countertop sat three large bottles of a rich, handcrafted mix of strawberry cream liqueur. There were subtle copper tones in the combination that only Type O+ could possess.
“The price used to be $35 dollars a bottle,” Rhett said in what he hoped was a conversational tone.
“It did,” the young man agreed, quietly understanding. His bare hands splayed as he leaned over the counter and regarded Rhett with a flash of pearl- white teeth. “But you know commerce and capitalism. Everyone has to get their fangs into the profit.”
There was a shy grin at the arch of Rhett’s left eyebrow.
“Pardon the expression.”
Rhett grunted as he handed over his credit card. The bottles were placed roughly into a thick paper bag as Rhett sensed the dark blue tattoo encircling his left wrist being scrutinized. Maybe if he moved fast enough he would be able to leave before the invasive questions started.
“Bet you get a lot of urging requests, huh?”
Then again, maybe not.
Internally, Rhett cringed, and then steadied the flow of irritation. Then he repeated a few times to himself that curiosity was perfectly normal. That this man, Thomas (from what his shiny nametag declared), probably would have never gotten into this line of work if he hadn’t had some sort of deep fascination.
“Yes,” Rhett said smoothly. “I do.” He was already holding out his hand, palm up, to get his credit card back. Thomas seemed to be biding his time.
“I thought so,” Thomas smirked, as if all of his birthday wishes were about to come true. “I know that being changed involves paperwork and a waiting list. Been on it for three months now. Had a girlfriend in college who was an Emoter like you. Oh my God, the things she could urge me to feel in bed...wild…”
Thomas’ eyes went blissful at the heated memories. Rhett scowled and hoped that next week Diana would be back behind the counter. Something about a vacation in the Bahamas? Guess that was worth the suffering Rhett was going through right now. Diana deserved a nice trip away.
“Could I please have my credit card back?”
Thomas blinked out of the hazy fog of his previous life with his probably equally sex-crazed ex girlfriend. It was in these times that Rhett was thankful that he couldn't legitimately read minds.
“So you can only do it if we ask, right?” Thomas rallied on as he handed Rhett back his card.
Rhett gave a curt nod. Christ, he missed Diana.
“And...you're willing to urge for more than just fun, I assume?”
Another quirk of Rhett's eyebrow, but this time there was a little more curiosity in it. Thomas smile got even bigger.
“What exactly are you proposing?”
Rhett watched the smooth face relax into relief. Thomas was clearly happy that Rhett was able to read in between the lines.
“Well... maybe I ask to be emotionally urged, and you maybe do it as one friend to another...and then, oh, another bottle of O Berry Me! ends up leaving the store…”
Suddenly Thomas was a lot more interesting. Someone who Rhett felt the desire to make feel things, especially if extra blood blends were involved.
“Your...hypotheticals are very intriguing,” Rhett admitted.
He gave the man behind the counter a genuine grin, and within a swift motion Rhett's already- heavy bag got heavier. Thomas was practically vibrating with excitement and anticipation. It was almost cute. With his soft brown eyes and shaggy chestnut hair, he could have been the bipedal equivalent of a puppy about to get scraps under the table.
Rhett chuckled low at the sight. The merest trace of pointed fangs creasing his bottom lip.
“Think you could manage giving us a little more privacy? Not in the mood for an accidental audience. At least not today.”
Apparently Thomas was able to take directions. At least when the orders hit a specific sort of kink. The young man swooped over to the front of the store with what was obviously a handmade sign. Rhett assumed it was one of the main reasons why he hadn't been able to swing in the other day on his way to work for a quick drink. The written scribble of Be Back in Ten Minutes had been twenty before Rhett gave up that afternoon. Something else to mention to Diana.
The turning off of the lights was a little over the top, but whatever. Rhett always enjoyed the dark. It came with the lifestyle.
“It's better if you're sitting down. I've been known to be…overwhelming.”
Thomas shuddered before he was able to hop up on the counter top. His legs dangled and Rhett took a couple of measured steps until he was so close that he could feel the warmth of Thomas’ breath on the plane of his chest.
“Ok,” the Cruorista rasped. “I'm ready.”
“Oh, my sweet, clueless thing,” Rhett cooed, the side of his right index finger dragging down the soft cheek of heated skin. “You most definitely are not .”
He could tell Thomas felt the itching in the back of his brain. It was almost like a quiet knock on a door in a room too far away. It was one of the only ways that humans could tell that something was off. That their mind was being gently opened and searched before the surge of change began. When his girlfriend had loved him, Thomas probably drooled for this type of foreplay. It made her lips even more soft and thighs even tighter. He would bathe in the sweetness her powers would provide.
But Rhett was not his former lover.
“What…” Thomas gasped as his body began to quake in a emotional pain that he couldn't even begin to decipher. His vision blurred at the corners as the tall man stared at him. His head bowed low as if in quiet prayer. “...Why...”
Rhett tilted his head as he waited for the moment for Thomas’ words to return. The expression of mock concern pressed against the edges of his bearded lips.
“Do you know what I most adore about urging?” Rhett whispered. Then he paused to watch Thomas’ mouth twitch in another wave of agony. “The nuances of the act. The brutal rules that are part of such a delicate dance.”
At this point the smaller man was on his right side,. his quivering legs caged around much longer ones.
“It's obvious,” Rhett went in, having a full-fledged conversation with the writhing mass. “That your girlfriend was gentle with you. Didn't take advantage of your vagueness. Maybe she even found your trusting nature… sexy?”
It wasn't like Thomas could confirm this. Not when his brain was breaking under the strain of blood- curdling fear and bone-searing regret. Hatred that had no basis in his own rattled history. Disgust that made his stomach revolt into violent dry heaves.
“But you're smart and well-connected enough to both get this job and be placed on the changing list, so… as unfortunate as it is, we may eventually become… blood brothers. Pardon the expression.”
The repeated words from earlier aren’t lost on Thomas, despite his foggy synapses firing off like proximity mines.
“So… here's a piece of advice. If you're ever insane enough to want the mysteries of your skull to be plucked like a fiddle again, then be precise in what you fucking want to feel. When you don't, you give all the choices to the one pulling the strings. Right now you feel like it's the worst day of your life. Because it is. I'm rearranging the neurons in your hippocampus. Turning them inside out and into pretty shapes. I bet I can make a butterfly. Should I try, Thomas?”
There was a groan at that. The hands became tight fists as he shook. A new trigger of everlasting sadness peered from behind the now-closed eyelids.
“That would be your amygdala,” Rhett said in a hush as the first tears fell like raindrops from the reddening cheeks. “It’s a beautiful contradiction. Affects both depression and pleasure. The need to sob and to come.”
Sure enough there was a bewildered wail as a bulge formed in the tight blue jeans. Thomas was just able to croak out a plea, though Rhett couldn't make out all of the words.
“What was her name?” Rhett hissed, his face mere inches away. The dark eyes wide and conflicted as they looked back up at him.
“Anna…” Thomas stammered, as if she could somehow still hear him. Maybe she could. Senses were heightened after the change, anyway.
Rhett hummed at the name. Anna. The image of her swept lazily around him. Sweet and pleasant. Understanding and immensely patient with the irritating man that had once shared her bed.
“She was cruel not to think about your future,” Rhett continued as his large hand pushed back the sweaty hair to ensure that Thomas could see him clearly. “That you'd want more lovely feelings even after your break up. Shortsighted, but hell - to be young and in love…”
Thomas was a mouse in a trap. Still struggling even after the neck was crushed. Inhaling deep breaths and pupils huge. At the mercy of the stranger above him.
“Remember all of this when you ask for our gift from now on. Make every goddamned syllable count before you allow the most precious part of your body to be fucked with… think you can manage that, human ?”
It took every ounce of focus for Thomas to whimper assent. His body curved like his flesh was on fire, and slowly - way too slowly - the invasion retreated one cell at a time. The blinding screams muddled into an ache, and before he was able to adjust to the silence, the vampire was gone.