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One of the occasional perks of having a touring popstar sister was having total access to the gorebus while she, her band, and the crew were busy with setup. While the gorebus was rarely quiet and empty, on the rare occasion you had it completely to yourself, it was practically a sanctuary.
For months, it had been one of Spelldon’s homes. Though they usually try to set up in hotels when they planned on staying in town for more than one night, and he and Casta would fly back to their mother’s often, the gorebus was their homebase. He had spent countless hours pouring over tomes while sitting at the in-set booth, watching the scenery roll by through the window as they drove from town to town. When they had flown out of the country for the rest of Casta’s world tour, he had actually missed it more than he had expected.
Locking the door behind him, he gestured around with a small, “Ta-dah.” Val stepped around him, looking absolutely starstruck.
Val had been trying desperately to keep his cool the last few days, between meeting Casta for dinner after school, attending the first of her three shows this week with a backstage pass, and generally following Spelldon around as he wove between the band and techies with familiarity. Spelldon knew that it was a mix of things, not just that Casta was a celebrity. It was also the automatic pressure that came with the whole meeting the family thing -- Spelldon had also been nervous about meeting Whisp for the first time, knowing she was practically Val’s family. Honestly, her pretending to try and hunt him down had been a great icebreaker, not that he’d suggest Casta do the same for Val.
(Neither of them were anywhere near ready to meet each other’s mothers, with Val not even being out to his. Val was convinced that Spelldon’s mother would take one look at him and turn him into a pig or something, even though Spelldon was like 90 percent sure Circe would at least try to get to know the vampire first. Spelldon, meanwhile, had gotten the vibe that Val’s mother had a tendency to be a bit… intense, at least when she wasn’t banishing her son to live in the garage and ignoring him for months. Spelldon was serious about Val and wanted to meet her eventually, because he knew she was still important to Val, but he just needed to… build up the mental energy, as it were. Also, Val had mentioned something about her possibly trying to eat him, no like for real, and Spelldon wasn’t really in a rush to see if his boyfriend was just being overprotective when saying that.)
Spelldon figured Val deserved to finally be openly starry eyed (with the occasional illusion-star trailing after them, one of which Spelldon made sure to pocket in his jeans so he wouldn’t forget about it later, even though Val’s accidental illusions rarely lasted long) now that they were alone. Honestly, it was a good look on the vampire.
“Spell-- Spell-- this is, quite possibly, the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me -- don’t tell Whisp that -- this is where she rehearsed, right? Oh, look--!”
Spelldon smiled at his boyfriend’s ramblings. “Want the tour?”
Val reeled around to face him, grabbing the lapels of his jacket. “Yes!”
There wasn’t much to show off, honestly. The gorebus was divided into three sections: the main area, complete with couches, the booth, and a kitchenette and cauldron; the sleeping area, divided from the main area via a heavy curtain, enchanted to keep sound from the main area from reaching the bunks there; and the lounge area all the way in the back, separated by a door, which had another massive couch and TV. In the main area was also a bulletin board, where photos from the last tour and some pieces of fanart were pinned up. All around the bus, there were little burns and claw marks from when Casta accidentally lost control of her magic, but if you asked him, it just added character.
Along the way, Val had a million questions: what was it like, living on the road? What are the Spells like? Were “the Spells” named after Spelldon? Did Casta like Val? Casta always changed back everyone she turned into an animal, right? Did Spelldon ever think about joining her on stage? Was he sure Casta liked Val?
Which bunk was Spelldon's?
There were twelve bunks in the gorebus, stacked in threes, six on each side of the bus. Each bunk had its own curtain to provide some privacy, thankfully also enchanted to block out excessive noise. They were rarely all occupied. Usually the Spells -- Bette, Sarah, and Kathy -- would sleep in the three bunks closest to the lounge area on one side, with Casta sleeping on the top bunk opposite to them. Catty Noir, when she joined them on tour, would claim the bottom bunk but would usually end up sharing the top bunk with Casta.
Spelldon had taken the top bunk on the bunkbed next to Casta’s, closest to the main area.
The other beds would be occupied by the bodyguards and drivers, sleeping in shifts, and occasionally the rotating backup dancers or management when they joined them on the road.
On the ground and hanging from the bunks were overturned clothes and shoes, Casta’s sleep bonnet hanging from one of the rungs of the ladder that led to her bunk.
“...Could I see it?” Val asked, pointing at Spelldon’s old bunk. Spelldon gave a half-nod, half-shrug. There wasn’t much to see, but honestly, with how busy things got when Casta visited, he personally wouldn’t mind shutting out the world -- save for Val -- for a little bit.
Kicking their shoes off, Spelldon followed Val up the short ladder into his old bunk.
Crawling into the bunk was strange. When Spelldon moved back home to start attending Monster High, he had taken down everything he’d brought to personalize the space, but there were still little signs of his time there: a stain on the wall from when he tried secretly brewing a potion in the middle of Light while they had been driving down a bumpy road. Small holes in the wall where he had pinned up printed out astrological posters of the sky around the Boomuda Triangle to study. And on the bus’s ceiling, much to Spelldon’s surprise, were a handful of glow-in-the-dark star stickers. He must have forgotten to take them down when he left.
Val lightly brushed over the corner of one while Spelldon crawled next to him, a charmed smile on his face. The bunks were decently wide, but short -- their heads were brushing against the roof of the bus while they were sitting cross-legged next to each other.
Spelldon closed the curtain, thrusting them into darkness, the stars being the only thing he could see while his eyes adjusted. He could feel Val’s eyes on him, though, the vampire’s night vision probably kicked in immediately. He snapped his fingers, casting a simple light enchantment on the stars so they actually shone faintly, giving the entire bunk a cozy glow.
Silently, Spelldon reached for the spiked collar he wore at his throat, removing it and tossing it past the bunk’s curtain, followed by his jacket. He laid down, stretching out his legs fully and opening his arms.
Val’s eyes lit up. He immediately took the wordless invitation, shucking his own coat and letting the button at his shirt collar come undone. He tucked his head under Spelldon’s chin and wrapped his arms around the witch’s middle. Spelldon wrapped his arms around Val’s shoulders, their legs tangling together.
He have never been big on cuddling, but he liked how much Val liked curling up to him. It was like having an affectionate cat or a walking weighted blanket sometimes. They didn’t really get to really cuddle like this, though, Spelldon realized, since neither of them would visit the other’s house.
It was actually pretty nice.
“...I used to love this bunk,” Spelldon confessed into the shift glow of the stars after a few minutes.
“Hmm?”
“I mean, I loved traveling with Casta,” he explained. “It’s just… it got kinda overstimulating, sometimes? It was nice to escape here.”
“Like a safe space?” Val’s voice was hushed. “Do you… ever miss it, though?”
Spelldon shrugged. “My mom and I-- we were shocked when Casta decided to start touring again. Those ghouls from school -- Toralei and her ghoulfriend’s friends, I think -- helped her regain her confidence, but mom was still worried Casta would cause another accident on stage and completely freak, you know? So we figured it would be a good idea for me to come along, as support, just in case.”
“So you didn’t even want to go?”
“Oh, I did, for sure. I could’ve done without the whole loud celebrity thing, but it was nice getting to spend time with Casta. She was the first person I came out to and she made me feel comfortable enough to come out to our mom. She even used to joke that since she was bi, she could just swear off dating men so mom wouldn’t have to deal with two sons-in-law.”
Val chuckled at that before falling quiet. He brought his hand over Spelldon’s heart, resting it there. “...Your family really loves each other, huh? I’m sorry if I’m… a lot, when it comes to your sister being famous. It's sweet how close you are, Spell.”
Spelldon snorted, carding a hand through Val’s rose colored hair. “Eh, sometimes Casta likes to act like she’s the mom, though. She’s brutal when she decides to lecture you.”
The amount of times she tore into him for accidentally coming off as rude with his natural bluntness was too high to count.
Val chuckled, playing with one of Spelldon’s necklaces. “Whisp complains about her big sister being like that sometimes, too. Seems to be a plight all younger siblings share.”
“Plus, well… don’t tell Casta, but her music isn’t really my taste.”
Val made a sound of mock-offense. “Spell, I love you and I respect how you talk about your sister as a person, but never insult Queen Casta’s music in my presence again.”
Spelldon snorted. “Noted.”
They let quiet wash over them, simply laying there together. Spelldon had a lot on his mind lately -- homework, frustrations about his powers, internship applications, making time to join Lagoona and Venus on their activism, not to mention the general schoolwide drama and tragedy of the last scaremester. He was thankful Val had been there with him through it all. It was nice, having someone to just exist around, even if they were occupied with their own things.
Val still doesn’t believe him when he says he’s the lucky one, but he’s sure they’ll get there, one day.
After a while, Val broke the silence. “...Hey, Spell?”
“Yeah.”
“You wanna make out?”
Spelldon blinked up at the stars. Casta would be in Salem for nearly a week, so she and the Spells weren’t actually sleeping in the bus, even though they still kept it parked close to the venue in a private spot. They would be busy for a few more hours, still, and the only person that might come looking for them was one of the bodyguards, and that would only be in case of an emergency.
Something that meant the bus was all theirs for who knows how long.
“Val,” Spelldon said seriously, taking his boyfriend’s face between his hands, “we should totally make out.”
Val was already leaning in.
Spelldon had fallen in love with Val for a lot of reasons: his dorky and dramatic personality, the heart he sometimes seems to forget he has, his love and protectiveness of all animals, and so much more.
This, though, was very much an added bonus: Val was a really good kisser.
He gave Spelldon’s mole a chaste peck before taking Spelldon’s top lip between his own, pulling it lightly, before lightly parting them. Val sighed into Spelldon’s mouth as Spelldon’s hands moved to his hips, and the witch swore Val tasted as close to wonder and magic as someone could get, alongside something deeper, like petrichor or lightning. A force of nature.
Spelldon leaned his head up, licking into Val’s mouth and swallowing a huff of amusement from the vampire. Val settled more of his weight against Spelldon, grounding him in this moment. He ran his tongue over the backs of Val’s teeth, tracing them, when--
Ow.
Val jerked back so quickly his head banged against the bus’s ceiling, knocking one of the stars loose. He hissed, rubbing the back of his head as he stared down at Spelldon in horror.
Spelldon sat up too, slightly dazed from how quickly they had gone from kissing to not kissing. He reached for Val to check his head, but Val put a hand on his shoulder, shoving him back down and keeping him at arm’s length.
There was a faint metallic taste in his mouth and his tongue stung lightly.
“Oh,” he said. He had momentarily forgotten Val had fangs. Not his brightest moment. “Oops.”
“I-I am so sorry--” Val cried.
“No, its my bad--”
“Spell, I just bit you!”
“Uh, technically you didn’t…?”
Val was shaking his head, incredulous. One of his hands was covering his mouth now, eyes wide. His pupils were needle thin, eyes nearly all rose-pink now that Spelldon was looking at them.
His blood had gotten in Val’s mouth, he realized. He felt dazed again at the thought.
The thing was, Val had a unique relationship with blood compared to most vampires. Being an emotional vampire, he still needed it to survive, but to a much lesser degree than regular vampires. He generally didn’t crave it or react to it much either, though Spelldon wasn’t sure if that was an emotional vampire thing or a Val spent most of his unlife basically borderline starving and just got used to it because no one had explained how his new specific diet/physiology worked in a healthy way until recently thing.
“I swear I didn’t mean to,” Val said in a small voice behind his hand.
“Hey, hey, I-I don’t mind. It was basically my fault anyway.” Spelldon tried sitting up again and this time Val let him. Val had scooted to the opposite side of the bunk though. They sat there, facing each other, as Spelldon rushed to find the right words to console his boyfriend. “Val, look, it was barely a nick. Shoot, I’d let you feed on me if you had to--”
“Nope,” Val cut him off, eyes growing even more horrified at the thought. “I can’t do that, not again, I can’t feed off of my partner, not emotionally and not-- like that.”
The star he had bumped into was caught in his hair. Spelldon’s eyes focused on it, unable to look away. He wished he were better at this -- talking Val down from the edge when he got anxious and panicky. There had to be a book out there, something like How to Talk to Your Emotional Vampire Boofriend With a Major Guilt Complex.
“Okay, we can… I guess, revisit that conversation later--” he started.
“Why?! I’d prefer we never even think about that again!”
“Val, one: you’re a vampire,” Spelldon deadpanned. “It would be a, well, dick move if I didn’t care about your diet at all, even if you weren’t one. And two: I trust you with my life, you know I love you, I promise I literally don’t care if I accidentally cut myself on your fangs. I mean, I knew you had them before I started dating you.”
“I feel like you should care,” Val said stiffly.
Spelldon couldn’t help the sudden rush of affection he felt. “I’m guessing Whisp talked to you about I-statements?”
“Sooo not relevant!”
Spelldon reached out again, lightly taking Val’s wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. With a soft, “Come here,” he tugged Val back towards him, pulling them both back down. They laid on their sides, facing each other. Spelldon reached out to pluck the plastic star from Val’s hair, pocketing it. The illusion-star might not last long, but this would, and Spelldon loved all the little mementos he could get that reminded him of Val.
“Hi,” Spelldon said.
Val huffed out a light laugh. “Hey.” His eyes flicked away for a moment. “...You really don’t care?”
Spelldon shrugged. He was pretty sure his tongue had already stopped bleeding. “Hey, it’s one thing I have on top of your exes, knowing you never drank their blood,” Spelldon said, halfway between teasing and being serious. “I guess it’s like I’m yours in a way they never were.”
Well, that, and the fact that Val hadn’t actually liked any of them romantically. Spelldon is lucky he’s never fallen victim to compulsive heterosexuality.
Val blinked at that, flushing slightly. After a few moments he said, “Sorry, you know, for… freaking out.”
“‘S fine.”
“I just… don’t wanna mess anything up.”
“I know.” Spelldon moved his hand to Val’s cheek, absentmindedly running his thumb over the seam of Val’s lips. “If it helps, I think your fangs are cute.”
Val sputtered. “You cannot be serious.”
“When am I not serious? I think everything about you is cute.”
In the low light, he could see Val’s face light up with a blush under his hand. “Oh, would you just-” Val was the one tugging him forward now until Spelldon was laying on top of Val, a near reversal of their earlier positions. “You’re impossible.”
Spelldon snorted. “Eh, maybe.”
This close, Spelldon could brush his nose over Val’s scar from when he was turned. The twin pinpricks were faint, the skin only slightly raised, and usually hidden by his hair and the collars of his tops. Spelldon isn’t sure if he’s ever been close enough to Val’s throat to see it.
It’s a strange reminder that Val hadn’t been born a monster like Spelldon. That if he hadn’t been turned, they never would have met.
He would have to ask about Val’s turning, one day.
Spelldon shifted slightly, gently kissing the small twin scars, just for the sake of it.
“Oh,” Val whispered from above his head. One of his hands moved to the back of Spelldon’s head, over the shaved part of his undercut, holding him there.
Spelldon had learned young that vampires -- and undead in general -- differed from other monsters when it came to their vitals, but it was one thing to read about it, and another to experience it first hand. Val still had a pulse, but it was faint, sluggish against the corner of Spelldon’s lips. If they were doing anything else, he might not even be able to feel it at all, but for a vampire Val’s heart was basically pounding right now.
“...Hey,” Val said after a few moments of them just breathing together,
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna keep making out?”
Spelldon almost laughed at that. “Do you?”
“I kinda always want to kiss you,” Val confessed.
Spelldon did laugh, then, going to move off of Val’s neck. “Sure. No interruptions from ‘biting’ this time, though,” he lightly teased.
To his surprise, Val’s hand held his head firm against his neck.
“Um-- well--,” Val floundered for a moment, “Maybe no more biting from me?”
It took Spelldon a moment to realize what he meant by that. “Hmm--? Oh. Oh.”
“I’ve never really-- let anyone close to my throat, so I’ve never-- but I think I-I’d like being yours, too.”
Who knew when they would get an opportunity like this again.
Yeah, Spelldon thought, nuzzling Val’s neck. He could do that.
-☆-☆-☆-
It was Casta’s last day before she and her band took off for the next leg of her tour.
They were sitting at the booth in the gorebus, Spelldon and Val sitting next to each other and Casta opposite them, several takeout boxes of diner food spread across the table between them.
“It was so nice to finally meet you, Val!” Casta said, gesturing at him with her fork, her voice bright. She was out of costume for once but still had a full face of stage makeup.
“Oh, likewise! I’m sure you get this all the time, but I really am a big fan,” Val replied. His grin was still a little put upon, clearly still slightly nervous, but at least he hadn’t accidentally slipped into that fake accent he sometimes did when he was uncomfortable. He added in a softer voice, “Plus, I know how much you mean to Spell -- He told me about how you two would look out for each other. It means a lot to get to meet someone so important to him.”
Spelldon lightly squeezed Val’s hand under the table. Val shot him an easier smile.
“Speaking of looking out for each other…,” Casta’s face then grew serious, and dread immediately settled in Spelldon’s stomach. She shot her band a look over their shoulders, where they had been chatting on the couch, giving a faint nod to the curtain.
The Spells began floating away from the main area of the bus, trying to muffle their giggles, and Spelldon overheard Sarah tell Kathy, “Oh, I remember all the trouble I got up to with my first boofriend when I was a teenager like them.”
Oh no.
Spelldon shot Val a look, trying to non-verbally tell him to turn into a bat and fly away while he still could.
Val just shot him back a panicked grimace.
“So, the other day,” Casta began in a very fake casual tone, “One of the security guards saw you sneak onto the gorebus and said you two were in there for a while.”
Val’s hand immediately, and not at all subtly, shot to his own throat, covering it. He had been hiding the marks Spelldon had left there under a high collar, one of his old cravats, and several layers of makeup, but the gesture was practically a confession pulled out under a truth potion.
Spelldon stared wide-eyed at the table, wondering if he could try opening a portal to another dimension using just sheer will.
“Does it count as sneaking if I have keys?” Spelldon asked, slightly desperate for some way to derail the conversation.
“Listen, I support you two! I just want to make sure you two are being… safe,” Casta said, ignoring his question.
Both Spelldon and Val were blushing bright red, gripping each other’s hands.
“Should we try running?” Val whispered.
“It’s probably already too late,” Spelldon whispered back.
“Oh, it's definitely too late,” Casta said, crossing her arms. “Hey, at least I’m not calling mom to make her check in with you two -- she turned me into a goldfish to keep me from running when she gave me the talk.”
Well, Spelldon figured, if nothing else, this conversation would at least kill the last of Val’s starstruck hero worship for his sister. It’s a shame, Spelldon would miss being able to tease Val about it.
Oh well, he thought. His other hand digging into his pocket to find both the stars still there, giving them both a squeeze as Casta launched into her lecture, making both of them sink down in the booth seat in mortification. At least he got to spend some alone time with his boyfriend.
Eh, worth it.