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Zaeth was full of the Lowmans’ blood and drifting back toward the airbnb, thinking- not for the first or last time- of how much he regretted ditching the stolen motorcycle. A ride around the deserted streets could have alleviated his boredom for an hour or two.
Miserable as it was in Purpee, the Lowmans were good enough for a laugh. Their enthusiasm was endearing if nothing else. They happily let him feed and eagerly invited him into their rejuvenated marriage bed, but their sex inevitably bored him and he had to make himself scarce. He didn't want his mystique wearing off too fast.
Zaeth pouted as he returned to the airbnb, despairing the empty small town night. The whole point of being a vampire was that nothing was boring anymore. Zaeth was used to bringing the party with him, but now nothing but dust followed in his wake.
Even the airbnb was dead, just Mitch hunched over the kitchen table letting Tevin talk his ear off about his ebay business. Zaeth suddenly regretted his whole crazy, sexy life and how he'd ever managed to get himself in so much trouble that now he could never die. Spare me, he thought, praying to no one in particular- or Koschei, perhaps, for whatever good that did. Free me. Kill me, burn me, leave me out in the sun. Just end this fucking boredom.
×
“Pervert,” Zaeth sneered as he intentionally bumped his shoulder into Mitch's bulky torso.
“What is your problem?!” Mitch huffed.
It was rhetorical. He knew full well what Zaeth was after, and he had half a mind to give it to him. Mitch had observed enough interactions between sire and childe to put together a fair picture of the dynamic: Zaeth acted out and Koschei put him in his place. Brat-taming, he'd once heard HJ aptly put it.
Whether Mitch had what it took to tame the brat was another question. Whether Mitch had it in him to survive a situationship with a loose cannon like Zaeth was yet another. Questions without answers. Answers you'd never know until you tried.
On one hand, it was all irritatingly tempting. On the other, Mitch got exhausted just thinking about it. But it was all moot, because Zaeth could never want him; no one could. Maybe Zaeth was entertained by needling him- Mitch was an easy target, after all- but there was nothing more to it. There couldn't be.
Zaeth just waggled his eyebrows and licked his fangs and loitered awkwardly but sexily, draping himself over an old arcade cabinet. It was just the two of them in the basement; everyone else had the good sense to be in their coffins at this hour.
Mitch rolled his eyes. “Good night, Zaeth.”
He turned and trudged to his coffin. His mind was so noisy overturning the evening's heckling that he didn't notice Zaeth had followed him until he had dressed down and was lifting one bare foot to climb into the casket.
“Dude, what the fuck!” He hissed, feeling like his dead heart was a lump in his throat. “What is your deal?”
“There's nothing to do here,” Zaeth wheedled, his posture drooping like a thirsty houseplant.
“Go to bed, you fucking weirdo!”
“I like your mouth,” Zaeth said as casually as if he was remarking on Mitch's taste in fedoras. “It's cool.” He made a vague gesture around his jaw, crooking his fingers in a way that was maybe meant to mimic Mitch's mandibles.
“What?” Mitch's voice was ice cold, the long-suffering grizzle now annihilated.
This was a bridge too far, Mitch thought. Pinning baseless insults to him like pervert was one thing, but mocking his appearance was unconscionable. Fury raged in him and before he fully understood what his body was doing, he had grabbed Zaeth by the neck and lifted him four feet in the air.
“Whoa, whoa, chill out, big guy, I was trying to give you a compliment,” Zaeth sputtered, mostly unaffected by the choking but clearly flustered by the man-handling.
“No one gives me compliments,” Mitch's voice rumbled threateningly.
“Okay, I won't, I won't-”
“Wait, no, I meant-” the gawkiness crept back into Mitch's cadence. “I just meant that no one does that. No one's ever complimented me before.”
“Oh. Well-” Zaeth was blushing, which was insane. “Did you like it? What's going on? Not that I'm complaining.”
“You're into this?” Mitch scoffed. He suspected as much, of course.
Zaeth narrowed his eyes, trying to discern if he was in bad trouble or good trouble. “Are you into it?”
“Pervert,” Mitch spat with satisfaction.
Zaeth smirked. “Yeah, I am. Are you?”
“Did you mean it?” Mitch squeezed Zaeth's neck and the Brujah squirmed.
Zaeth didn't bother to breathe but Mitch could smell the blood stirring up in him, heart ready to pump it directly to his dick.
“Yeah,” Zaeth sighed. “Your mouth is fuckin’ hot, man. You're fuckin’-”
Mitch heard the first beat of Zaeth's undead heart. It was fast and loud. The Blush of Life flowed over him in full force.
“You're just hot all over, okay? I dunno, maybe that's hard for you to hear. Maybe you don't believe me.” Zaeth shrugged the best he could. “But I'm not fucking with you. I'm serious.”
“You wanted this, huh? You were baiting me.”
“I'm dying, man, I'm so fucking bored in this town. HJ and LaVonte are fucking boring, Madelaine is fun sometimes but she's mostly boring. Everyone is so fucking boring. You at least have the monster thing going for you. It's hot. I'm a pervert. I think you're hot. Is that so weird?”
Mitch finally lowered Zaeth to the ground. He didn't say anything, just looked the Brujah up and down. The tight jeans were noticeably tented. He stayed still as stone while Zaeth crept closer and touched him tentatively. His tiny hands skittered over Mitch's abs, and he licked one of Mitch's nipples, making him nearly jump out of his skin.
“Holyshit-” Mitch gasped.
Zaeth hated the height disparity right now, so he made to clamber into Mitch's coffin to get a meager boost.
“Hey, take your shoes off!” Mitch caught his arm.
Zaeth took off more than his shoes. Mitch was unsurprised but nevertheless agog to see that Zaeth was freeballing in those tight jeans. He climbed into Mitch's coffin and it gave him just barely enough height to stretch up and give Mitch a timid kiss on one tusk.
“What are you doing?”
Embarrassment flashed in Zaeth's brow for half a second before he sneered and replied, “what, you don't like kissing? Pervert.”
“No, I just-” Mitch grumbled. “I just didn't think you'd want to.” He stopped himself from getting any more vulnerable and confessing that he'd never been kissed since his Embrace.
Zaeth, in a rare moment of lucid empathy, seemed to intuit as much. “I like it,” he mumbled, before continuing a trail of kisses along Mitch's lower left mandible. Zaeth got dizzyingly hard thinking about what head from Mitch would feel like. His fraudulent breath picked up and he started humping the Nosferatu's meaty thigh.
A sound ominously close to a whimper rose in Mitch's chest but he swallowed it down and cleared his throat. He let out a low, thin moan. He liked having the petite Brujah squirming all over him; it gave him that feeling of power that movies always communicated by having a mob boss surrounded by scantily-clad women. He squeezed one large hand over Zaeth's tiny hipbones. He also liked the feeling of knowing how easily he could grind Zaeth to dust in his fist.
Mitch slid his hands under Zaeth's thighs and picked him up. Zaeth's legs wrapped around him the best they could. Mitch leaned in for the kiss this time, with no fucking idea how it was supposed to work. Zaeth held Mitch's face and peppered kisses across both of his upper mandibles.
“Fuck,” Mitch mumbled. He let the Blush overtake him, kickstarting his heart for the first time since the Embrace. Blood rushed south so fast he felt dizzy. “Holy shit!”
Zaeth rutted his taint on Mitch's dick as it filled. He started moaning and cooing as he felt the organ growing. Mitch couldn’t help his curiosity; he grabbed Zaeth's dick and squeezed it, stroking slowly. It leaked over his hand and smeared his abs. Zaeth threw his head back and moaned long and loud.
“Fuck,” Zaeth growled. “Fuck, fuck.” He wrapped his fingers around one lower mandible and licked Mitch's teeth.
Mitch felt lightheaded with the way his dick was throbbing. He couldn't take it. He dropped Zaeth into the coffin and tore off his own boxers. Zaeth's eyes went wide and saliva pooled in his mouth in anticipation.
Mitch's dick was a monster; not just big but thick and heavy, unwieldy even at rest. It was all sharp curves and when Zaeth put the long, tapered head into his mouth he choked immediately. Somehow, this only inspired him to stuff it deeper. His tongue traced the ridges of warped skin that patterned the shaft. He happily gagged on it, drooling. Mitch just watched him aghast, amused, and aroused.
Zaeth pulled off and spit on the shaft. He stroked it at the base. “I'm gonna take this thing so deep in my ass,” he promised, grinning, before disappearing it down his throat.
Zaeth didn't bob on it so much as he wriggled his head around until it sank gradually, steadily deeper. When he glanced up at Mitch with his throat stuffed full and constricting helplessly in weak, instinctive attempts to dislodge him, Mitch hooked one massive hand behind the Brujah's neck and held him down.
“Ah,” Mitch groaned. “Shit, Zaeth. Holy shit.”
Zaeth's body continued to revolt but he moaned between the gags and started to touch himself. Mitch thrust forward, gently at first, gradually harder. Zaeth stroked himself quickly, grunting, while his other hand reached up to feel the invasion of his throat.
The further Zaeth let him go, the bolder Mitch got, and soon he was holding Zaeth's head in both hands and slamming forward, fucking deep down his throat; far deeper than a living, breathing human could possibly take. He threw one leg over Zaeth's shoulder. Mitch's hot thighs held the Brujah's head immobile, his entire length, impossibly, fully sheathed in Zaeth's throat.
Zaeth came hard, probably staining the lining of Mitch's coffin with pinkish blood-jizz. Mitch watched Zaeth's eyes flutter and roll back. The sight of the Brujah gagged and held between his bulging thighs pushed Mitch over the edge and he emptied himself, feeling contracting muscle roll over his length as Zaeth swallowed him down.
By the time Zaeth pulled in an unnecessary breath, Mitch felt like he'd nearly forgotten what Zaeth looked like with an empty mouth. He wanted to fill it again, to hold the smaller vampire on his cock all day and night, to lose himself in using Zaeth's body.
Zaeth pulled Mitch into the coffin and straddled him, rubbing their bodies together and kissing his mandibles. He really got in there, squirming his way through the tusks and shoving his tongue eagerly into the maw of razor-sharp teeth.
Mitch started to play with Zaeth's surprisingly plump ass, which the Brujah happily lifted and wiggled to encourage him. Mitch always figured the skinny vampire didn't have much of a butt, though now he realized the tight jeans were keeping it contained, more's the pity. He squeezed the cheeks and spanked them, the force from his large hands jolting Zaeth's entire body. Zaeth blathered unintelligably and writhed, his dick rapidly growing again.
Underneath the post-coital bliss, Mitch was shattered. Zaeth's attention was uncoiling the stack of existential Truths that Mitch held sacred: that he was so far removed from the realm of desire that even entertaining notions like romance or passion were exercises in futility, better left well alone. If someone earnestly desired him, well, everything fell apart.
“Fuck, you're so fucking hot,” Zaeth panted, drooling into Mitch's mouth.
“Fuck,” Mitch groaned. What does this mean? He tried to stop himself thinking. “Fuck, Zaeth, what the fuck is happening right now?” he blathered, spiraling.
“I know,” Zaeth replied. “I know what you're thinking.”
He was breathing hard, sucking Mitch's tusks like his life depended on it. He kissed so desperately that it knocked everything else out of Mitch's brain, leaving no room for anything but Zaeth.
“You're a monster, no one could ever think you're hot, yadda yadda. You're a fucking sexy monster, though. Darkness Man, more like Fuck Man.”
“Jesus,” Mitch sputtered. It was such a cringe-inducing joke that it made him feel significantly less embarrassed by his existential crisis. It broke the mood a bit, but not enough to matter. In fact, it was a welcome reprieve. It stopped this from feeling like something too serious.
Mitch's hands roamed over Zaeth's body with a new intensity, moving like they owned him. His last shred of restraint had been ripped away with the muttering of something so ridiculous as “Fuck man.” At least it was better than pervert, Mitch thought, right? Maybe.
He grabbed a talon full of Zaeth's hair and pulled it hard, winning the bet that it would make the Brujah moan. Zaeth shivered and his cock twitched. He clawed at Mitch's thick biceps. He sucked one of Mitch's tusks as if he were trying to deep throat the whole mandible. Mitch growled and scraped his nails across Zaeth's hips before giving his ass a hard spank.
“Yes!” Zaeth gasped, releasing a tusk dripping with his saliva. “Fuck, man, yes!”
Mitch had fallen into a snare-trap of bliss with Zaeth devouring his mandibles. His legs fell open and he felt himself throbbing hard again. They're gonna be so hungry after this-
“Fuck, I want you to suck my dick so bad, please, Mitch-”
The Nosferatu shuddered, his dick drooling. He squeezed it, feeling desperate.
“You like that idea, huh?” Zaeth smirked and squirmed, frotting their dicks together. “You wanna blow me?”
Mitch nodded frantically, his mandibles open wide. Zaeth climbed up his body and maneuvered the hard shaft of his dick between Mitch's teeth. Zaeth shivered at the touch of those gentle, loving razorblades, sharp and caressing.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” Zaeth babbled, watching intently as he disappeared into Mitch's sexy monster mouth. “Oh, fuck!” He shrieked as Mitch squeezed him, suctioning and pulling him deeper. His thighs trembled.
“Fuck! You're so fucking hot!” Zaeth slithered his hands under Mitch's head and started to fuck his face. Mitch grabbed his thighs, squeezed his ass. “Yes! Holy shit. Finger me, please, fuck!”
Mitch's mandibles clamped around the base of Zaeth's shaft, making him squirm and howl. He teased a claw at Zaeth's entrance, slowly exploring the hole. His finger sank deeper as Zaeth thrust into his mouth, feeling the tight grip of the Brujah's body, burning with the Blush.
“Yeah, yeah. Fuck, shit, oh, fuck, Mitch, oh fuck, fuck-” Zaeth worked himself into an overloaded frenzy, but the tight grip of the mandibles around his cock wouldn't let him come.
Mitch reached up with his free hand to grope Zaeth's chest, grazing his nipples, making him screech and rock his body urgently. Zaeth grabbed the hand and started sucking Mitch's fingers. He drooled and mumbled, whining and keening.
Mitch pulled Zaeth out of his mouth and pulled his finger out of Zaeth. He grabbed Zaeth's cock by the base and licked the shaft. When he started to tongue Zaeth's balls, the Brujah's whimpers of complaint died down. He sucked the balls into his mouth until his teeth tickled Zaeth's taint. His upper mandibles hooked over Zaeth's dick as the lower set teased between Zaeth's ass cheeks.
“Oh! Yeah! Oh, fuckfuckfuck-” Zaeth prodded both tusks inside his hole and felt the mandibles spread him open like a speculum. He rutted his shaft across Mitch's face. “Yes! Oh, please, please-”
Mitch teased his finger back into Zaeth's spread hole, slowly fucking it in and out. Zaeth was vibrating with excitement and anticipation, high on the feeling of being open and ready and waiting.
“Oh, fuck, I'm gonna come,” Zaeth gasped.
Mitch pulled Zaeth bodily off of him then, dislodging all the places where they were joined. Zaeth cried out in agony but he was no match for Mitch's bulk. He was helpless in Mitch's grasp.
“Please, Daddy, please, Daddy-” Zaeth started to ramble, over and over. “Please let me come, I'll be good, please, Daddy, please-”
Mitch laid the Brujah down in his coffin and grabbed his ankles, spreading him wide. His massive dick laid across Zaeth's thigh, throbbing, leaking, ready to break him open. Zaeth clawed at the casket walls, desperate for sensation.
“You want Daddy to fuck you, baby boy?” Mitch didn't know what came over him, but he was surprising himself a lot tonight.
He hovered over Zaeth, holding his face and teasing his thumb over his lips. Zaeth tried to take the digit in his mouth, whimpering.
“Yes! Oh, fuck, yes, please, Daddy! Fuck me so hard, please, so hard! I'm yours, Daddy. I'm your fuck toy. Lemme be a good little fuck toy for you, please!”
Mitch grinned, as much as he could grin, and nudged his head against Zaeth's hole. One of Zaeth's legs hooked over his hip, urging him forward.
“Fuck me like a toy, Daddy, please, AH! Uuuuuhhhhh-” Zaeth's eyes rolled back as Mitch breached him, opening him much wider with the full girth of his dick.
“Oh, fuck, so big, holy shit, fuck,” Zaeth drooled, head lolling, eyes rolling, feeling hollowed out and on fire.
“That's just the head, baby,” Mitch drawled, feeling high on power.
“Shit, gimme something to suck on,” Zaeth demanded.
Mitch obliged, giving him his thumb. Zaeth sucked it urgently, tonguing the long nail. Mitch pushed deeper, and Zaeth scratched at the coffin walls. The Brujah stretched his legs high, and the sight of it drove Mitch wild. He started to thrust, driving deeper each time. Tears fell from Zaeth's eyes as Mitch's movement grew faster and harder. The coffin rattled and shook.
“Taking me so good, baby,” Mitch grunted.
Zaeth practically sang out in response. Of course he lives for praise. Mitch finally put it together in his mind. He thought it was just about the punishment at first, but Zaeth actually wanted to be good.
“Taking it so good, such a good slut for Daddy.”
Mitch caressed Zaeth's open legs and watched himself disappear between them. He thought he saw something move inside Zaeth's stomach, just above his drooling cock. He blinked and it took him a moment to realize that it was him, his monster cock spearing Zaeth's insides and bulging out. He touched the bulge with a trembling hand. He felt it recede as he pulled away and grow when he thrust forward.
“Holy shit. Look at you taking me. Holy fuck, Zaeth. Fuck, that's me inside you. Fuck!” Mitch's voice came out strangled, almost weepy, on the last word. Like he couldn't imagine anyone letting him do this.
Zaeth dropped a hand to his abs and felt the monster dick bulging the skin. He cupped his shaft and rubbed it against the bulge.
“Fuck, that's hot! Fuck, so deep. Yeah, fuck, fuck me, Daddy-” he mumbled, Mitch's thumb wetting his lips. “Fuck me so deep, fuck, impale me on that dick. It feels so fucking good. Fuck!” Zaeth growled.
Mitch wrapped an arm underneath Zaeth and clutched his shoulder, pulling him back toward him as he thrust forward, hard. Zaeth grabbed his own cock and jerked it frantically.
“Daddy never said you could come, baby,” Mitch purred.
Zaeth reluctantly released his grip, going back to palming the length. He whined loudly, his body thrashing desperately.
“Please, Daddy! Please, please!”
Mitch covered Zaeth's mouth with his hand, muffling his cries.
“Shhhh. Be a good fuck toy for Daddy.” Mitch bit hard at Zaeth's shoulder, some animal instinct for dominance rising up in him.
Zaeth's eyes rolled back and his body went pleasantly limp. His legs trembled as Mitch pounded away deep inside him. The monster dick felt like a second spine, felt like any moment the head would burst from his lips. He felt again for its bulge, significantly deeper than before. Mitch was ramming into him deep and hard and he felt used and full and desired and anything but bored.
Zaeth grinned maniacally. This was living. This was the impossible summit he could only reach in a preternatural body, this was even better than Koschei elbow-deep in him. He'd be only too happy if it never ended. But every high peaked, and on the other side, it was all downhill.