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The fact that it was Niall and Zayn who suggested they come here probably should have alerted him to the fact that it was a stupid idea. These were the same boys who thought that it would be a good idea to do things like take an art history class together (Zayn was the only one to even pass, and that was barely) or sample one of everything at the open bar at Greg’s wedding (they wound up in the bathroom of their shared room with Niall hunched over the toilet, Zayn hanging over the sink, and Harry draped over the side of the tub until the next afternoon). It wasn’t that any of them were stupid, it was just that when the three put their heads together, all of their common sense seemed to die.
This latest idea started with Zayn and was quickly adopted by Niall, who was incapable of believing that anything born of Zayn’s mind was anything less than perfect and marvelous. That had been the case since primary school and was only made worse by the fact that now they were dating and both basically the epitome of lovestruck fools. They were so grossly in love that when Zayn expressed interest in going to a gothic vampire-themed bar, of all places, Niall was nothing but enthusiastic. Which was all well and good as long as that was their thing that they did together, but now they want Harry to join and he’s not enough in love with either of them to see that as anything better than sketchy at best.
“Can’t we just go to a normal bar?” Harry sighs, knowing before he even begins that his protests will end fruitlessly. “That’s not really, like, my scene.”
“Well it’s not like either of us walk around every day in full gothic getup and fake vampire fangs,” Niall reasons. “That’s why it’s fun, because it’s different and new. You can pretend to be someone you’re not.”
“But what if I like who I am? I don’t want to be anyone else!”
Zayn chimes in at last, coming up to Harry and placing one calming hand on each shoulder. “H, babe, we’re not trying to say you should be someone you’re not. This is just a fun new environment, you know? Mixing things up. Get you out of your rut.”
“What rut?” Harry says flatly.
The couple trades glances and Niall clears his throat a little nervously. “Well, we’ve just noticed, me and Zayn, that it’s been while since you’ve, you know, gotten laid. And like. Maybe you would feel better if you did. More relaxed, less… stressed.”
Harry should probably be greatly offended, both by the fact that they’re paying that close attention to his sex life and that they think there’s anything wrong with his mood, but the truth is they’re all too right. The last time he’d gotten off with someone was that really terrible drunken blow job from that stranger at that party last semester, and truth be told he has been feeling pretty high strung lately. Like, snapping at his best mates kind of high-strung.
It’s the guilt about that as much as the horniness that makes him shrug his acknowledgement. “So you don’t just want me to go out with you, you want me to go out and pull.”
“Basically, yeah,” Zayn grins. “We love you, but yeah.”
“And I can’t do that at a normal bar because…?”
“You could, but we figured if you wanted to you already would have by now. Plus it’s really easy to score a pull at this place. Everyone’s horny and just wants to go home with someone while pretending there’s this whole vampire thing going on.”
That’s the part that Harry remains unconvinced about. “So if I go home with someone, does that mean they’re gonna like, bite me?”
“It’s all just role play,” Niall assures him. “Just a little fun and games.”
That’s not the way it feels, though, when they’re walking into the bar later that night. Niall and Zayn were decked out all in black, which Harry refused to take their lead on and insisted on wearing the same white tee shirt, skinny blue jeans, and blue headscarf with little pink and white anchors on it that he’d worn to uni that day. Now he sticks out like a sore thumb in a room where the only white was the pale of “undead” faces and the only pink was in well-bitten lips.
The doorman collecting cover charges recognizes Zayn and Niall, administering their hand stamps without question. Zayn’s is of a set of teeth with elongated canines, while Niall’s is a realistic human heart. “Zayn comes as a vampire and me as a human, so no one tries too hard to hit on us when we’re here together,” Niall explains quietly.
When Harry hands over his own entry fee, the man takes one look at him and presses a heart stamp onto the back of his hand. “You must be new here,” is all he said.
For the second time that night Harry feels that he probably ought to be offended, but really he’s just more relieved than anything else. Easier to play human and let himself be prey than try to pretend he’s a hunter. He’s never been one for the chase, and besides, the heart stamp looks pretty cool. He files it away under his endless list of future tattoos and wanders deeper into the room.
Niall and Zayn are already off somewhere, the little bastards, because they’d insisted that in order for Harry to make a proper pull he needed to not have friends hanging around the whole night and cramping his vibe of mystery. Like that was a thing. In any case Harry figures the best first step in any uncomfortable situation is alcohol, so he makes his way to the bar.
The vampire theme doesn’t stop at the bar, Harry quickly realizes. There are menu boards with specialty drinks listed under names like ‘B Positive’ and ‘Red Cells.’ Under them in tiny print the ingredients are listed, leaving the average Joe customer to fend for himself in deciphering exactly what was what. “I don’t suppose I’m allowed to just get a cosmo, then,” Harry mumbles to no one in particular.
He gets an answer though, from the man on the barstool next to him. “That’s the ‘Femoral Artery,’ I think,” he supplies helpfully, smiling as Harry turns to look at him. “Takes some getting used to, I know. I’m Louis, by the way.”
“Harry, and thanks,” comes the reply. When they shake hands Harry notices that Louis’ is decorated with the fang insignia, which is just as well since he’s downright gorgeous and definitely someone Harry would like to endeavor to charm the pants off of. He’s more punk than goth, black jeggings and tattered black vest showing off a curvy physique and a torso covered in tattoos. His face is by far the main attraction though, all blue eyes and sharp cheekbones framed by scruff and a perfectly messy fringe. The eyeliner and the smattering of piercings across his features at once make him seem intimidating enough to scare Harry away and intriguing enough to draw him in even closer.
He swallows audibly and glances back up at the menu. “Doesn’t seem like a very good business model. Not very inviting to outsiders if they can’t even order a proper drink.”
“Not sure they want outsiders,” Louis grins mischievously. “They have a very specific clientele here. It is a bit ridiculous, though. Did you know you can only get red drinks? They won’t even give you a martini unless it has red dye in it. People with dye allergies are just shit out of luck, it’s absolutely unfair.”
“Why do you come here, then, if it’s so awful?” Harry inquires, because the absolute comfort with which this man sits on his barstool and surveys the room gives him away as a regular. There’s none of the skeptical unsureness Harry himself carries into the scene, only the calm assurance of someone who knows why he’s here and what he’s taking home.
For now, Louis just laughs. “Well, it isn’t just anywhere a vampire can go to have humans offer themselves up for dinner, is it?”
“Right, I saw that you’re one of the, erm, vampires,” Harry says uncertainly. He licks his lips and tries for something a little more charming. “Do I look tasty?”
Louis’ eyes make an agonizingly slow trip from head to toe and back again. “You look… delicious.”
Two drinks. Harry lets this stranger buy him exactly two drinks, dark pink cosmopolitans (he refuses to call them after arteries, so it’s probably best that Louis orders for him) that taste sweet and make him feel a little bit lighter. They chat as they drink, but when Louis asks if Harry would like a third, he’s quickly turned down. “Just two for me. I’ll start getting seriously tipsy if I have another.”
“What’s wrong with being tipsy?”
“In general?” Harry shrugs and finishes off the last of his drink. “Nothing. But I don’t want to get too intoxicated. Might make you feel weird about taking me home with you tonight.”
There’s exactly three seconds of surprised silence that passes between them before a smirk takes over Louis’ mouth. “In that case, I’ll call for a cab.”
…………………
Louis’ flat, as it turns out, is not exactly what Harry would expect from the type of guy who roleplays as a vampire in a goth bar. Other than the blackout curtains on every window it looks a lot like his flat, actually; worn furniture that doesn’t match, clothes littering the floor, books and papers on the table. “Are you in uni, too?”
“Nah, I work. Flatmate, Liam, he’s in school for anthropology.”
Harry stops his survey of the room and looks at Louis with a frown. “You have a flatmate? Is he home?”
“Er, yeah, but we have separate bedrooms if that’s what you’re worried about. What are you studying?”
“Biology. Are we going to have sex?”
Louis laughs, a startled, nervous sound. “Blunt, aren’t you? Jesus. Um, yeah, if you want.”
“Well, I just don’t really know how this works,” Harry replies, trying not to look as unsure as he feels. He scuffs the carpet with the toe of his boot and shrugs. “I’m new here, be gentle with me.”
And Louis is gentle, taking Harry’s hand and leading him through a door into a dark bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind them. “It can be whatever you want it to be,” he murmurs, facing Harry once more. “Okay? Blood, sex, whatever you want.”
The light gets flicked on and Harry finds his way to the bed, just for lack of anything better to do. “How does this usually go?” he asks, taking off his boots and sock so he can scoot into the center of the bed and lie back. “I have no idea how this vampire thing goes.”
Louis removes his shoes as well, then crawls up the bed until he’s on his hands and knees over Harry. “Well, normally I drink first, since that’s the main thing, and then afterwards if you want to fuck about, I- I’m definitely okay with that.” One hand gently strokes Harry’s thigh, inviting but not pressuring. “Whatever you want.”
Harry’s heart is pounding away in his chest. He just has to get through this little kink thing, and then this beautiful man is going to have sex with him. He can do that, right? He can lie back and let him suck some lovebites into his neck and pretend Harry is dessert if at the end of all that he gets fucked by what is potentially a reincarnation of a greek god. He can definitely do that.
With a deep breath to steel his nerves, Harry licks his lips and says, “So show me your fangs.”
It was supposed to be a flirt, but Louis seems to take it very seriously, nodding once and then letting his eyelids flutter shut. Harry watches in confused curiosity as Louis breathes deeply, a look of concentration on his face as he appears to think very hard about something. When those blue eyes open once more either Harry is crazy or the little sparkles and flecks are red, but he doesn’t have much time to think about that because Louis’ lips are parting and as his jaw falls open Harry can clearly see two long, pointy canines that definitely weren’t there before.
He scrambles back from Louis so fast that the headboard cracks against the wall, which only punctuates the panic in his words. “What the fuck is that?” he squeaks, unable to tear his eyes away from the newly-fanged teeth. “How did you- how the fuck did you do that? What the fuck?”
“Hey, hey, it’s alright, calm down,” Louis says frantically, palms extended towards Harry like an offering of peace. His voice is a little different, speech hindered by the new addition to his dental display. “They’re just my fangs, yeah? It’s fine, I promise they don’t hurt as much as they look.”
“Oh, well if they’re just fangs-“
Louis sits back on his heels and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t actually believe in vampires, do you?”
There’s a long, pregnant pause as Harry tries to figure out what the bloody hell this guy is on about. “Don’t believe in-? Of course I don’t believe in vampires. They’re mythological creatures. This whole thing is roleplay, I know that.”
“And what if- what if it isn’t?”
Harry is shaking his head before the words even sink in all the way. “I don’t understand.”
“The vampire thing isn’t roleplay, Harry,” Louis says gently. “These fangs are real. I really drink blood.”
“Bullshit.”
Louis blinks at him for a second, then brings his hand to his mouth and bites down, leaving behind on his pale skin two bright red dots where the fangs pierced him. Harry’s gasp is reflexive, but almost as soon as Louis pulls his mouth away, something incredible is happening to the bite marks on his skin. They’re healing before Harry’s own eyes, skin knitting itself back together over the course of fifteen seconds until there’s no trace whatsoever. “Vampires heal really quickly,” Louis mumbles with a nervous clear of his throat.
Harry stares. And thinks. Then he stares some more, and thinks some more, and then thinks while staring. Eventually he shakes his head a very tiny bit. “This is all some crazy trick, right? Collapsible fangs and red dye or something. Vampires don’t exist.”
“Just because we haven’t been officially discovered doesn’t mean we aren’t real. You said you study biology, yeah?” Harry nods. “Think about all of those wacky fish they’re finding in the deep ocean. They’re real, even if they’re only just now being discovered. Vampires are the same way. We’re just a different species, one that’s highly evolved and looks a lot like humans, and lives off of blood. Nothing mythological about us.”
He says it all so calmly that Harry can’t help but see the reason. It’s possible, he supposes, at least in the hypothetical sense, for a species of high intelligence to avoid detection if they wanted to. “So the people in those clubs, they- they know?”
“Not usually,” Louis answers, seeming to relax as Harry got calmer himself. “They want to believe, they just don’t have any proof, so they do the whole roleplay thing. It’s as close as we can come to consent, really. They don’t understand that they’re actually going to be bitten, but at least they agree in a hypothetical sense. Seems less morally grey.”
“And they don’t freak out when you like- bite them?”
A shadow crosses Louis’ face. “Some do. Some go along with it. We try- we try not to traumatize anyone, at least, but it’s a necessary evil. We have to eat. This is the best we can do to be fair to humans in the process, but in the end we have to eat.”
That’s something that Harry can understand, even in the whirlwind of his mind after this new information. “The circle of life.”
“Basically, yeah.”
Harry nods slowly, almost to himself, then gently slides back down the headboard until he’s on his back once more. “I’m all about the food chain,” Harry says with a little more confident cheeriness than he feels. “Predator and prey. Commenalism. Secondary and tertiary consumers and all that.”
“Are you- are you saying you want me to drink from you after all?” Louis asks in surprise, eyebrows disappearing behind his fringe. “You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to. You seem like a really nice kid and all, so I don’t want you to agree to anything you don’t want to do-“
“I want to,” Harry says firmly. “It’s no different than donating blood at a blood drive, right? I give some blood, and it helps another person live. This time it’s just more… direct. Come on, have a bite.”
He tilts his head to expose his neck, pushing back any stray curls and hoping he doesn’t look like a complete idiot. It works to get Louis’ attention though, his jaw dropping open to show off the full glory of his fangs once more as he stares with laser focus at Harry’s throat. “Are you- if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
Louis leans forward and kisses at the place on Harry’s throat where the blood rushes beneath the skin. Harry’s heart only pounds harder, his hands starting to shake at the thought of that predatory mouth so close to this most vulnerable place. There’s something deep inside of him, something instinctual, which screams for him to run away. He’s being made prey, he should get out now, he should fight Louis off, he should-
He swallows around his nervousness. “Is it going to hurt?”
“Hmm?”
“When you bite me. Is it going to hurt? What if I don’t taste good?” Harry continues, apprehension bubbling forth all at once. “Is that a thing? Do we taste different?”
Louis pulls back to smile gently at Harry, even though his pupils are dilated with want and his gaze keeps flicking back to his neck. “It hurts a little, but only for a second. I hear it feels quite good after that, actually. And as far as your taste, I think we’ll be alright as long as you don’t eat a lot of garlic.”
Harry’s eyes go wide. “So that’s true? That garlic wards off vampires?”
“No, it just makes you taste like garlic.”
They both laugh and finally Harry feels himself relax into the pillows. It isn’t such a big deal, in the end. What’s a little bite between lovers? “Bite me. No, wait! Kiss me. Then bite me.”
“Of course,” Louis answers. His lips meet Harry’s cautiously, mouth closed so as to keep his fangs to himself, and Harry positively melts beneath him. It isn’t the usual tongue-heavy snog that Harry is used to, but it’s somehow more intimate to feel just those thin lips working on his own plump ones. Intimate enough that Harry’s breath remains steady as Louis’ mouth trails down his jaw and across his neck, pausing for a second to press a few calming kisses to Harry’s skin before he opens his mouth presses his fangs in.
It stings instantly, like getting two massive shots, and the uncomfortable stretch as the fangs press deeper into Harry makes him cry out softly. One hand flies up to Louis’ chest like to push him off, but just as he’s about to protest the pain stops and is replaced by another sensation entirely.
It’s pleasure, pure and unadulterated. The fangs are gone and instead Louis is just latching his mouth onto Harry and sucking, but the feel of it isn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. It’s heavenly, actually, little waves of excitement running through Harry and going straight to his cock. It’s like being rimmed and fucked and blown all at the same time, an all-over ache of arousal that makes his fingertips tingle. Maybe he’s lost enough blood already that he’s delusional, because it can’t possibly feel this good to have blood sucked out of his neck.
It can’t be possible, but for that Harry can feel a wet spot forming on the front of his jeans where he’s steadily leaking precum. When did he even get that hard? How long has Louis even been drinking from him? It feels like seconds, a minute at most, but already Harry is starting to feel overwhelmed with how fucking good the whole thing feels.
Louis must know the effect it’s having on Harry, because the hand that isn’t holding his weight up off the mattress comes down to palm at the front of Harry’s jeans. Harry cries out again, bucking up into the sensation, feeling an inch from orgasm and more desperate than he’s ever been. “No, wait,” he protests when Louis pulls back from his neck and licks at his wounds. “Please, keep going. It feels so good, fuck-“
“I’ll come back to that, I promise,” Louis says, voice lower and rougher than before. “Haven’t had my fill yet, but I have more important things to do.”
He palms at Harry again and the boy groans. The longer he goes without Louis’ mouth on his throat the clearer his head gets, the hard edge of desperation fading in favor of the familiar type of aching want. It’s less ethereal and more like he has a hot boy on top of him and a very, very hard dick. “Will you fuck me, please?” he begs.
Louis’ hands are at the top of Harry’s jeans in a second, his head nodding enthusiastically as he works at the button and zipper to release his poor cock. “Thank you, fuck,” he says breathlessly as he works the tight fabric down those long legs. “I was hoping you’d say that. Get your shirt off, yeah?”
Harry hurries to obey, sitting up to tug the tee shirt over his head. As that drops to the floor and he lays back one hand finds his neck, fingertips searching for wounds that surprisingly aren’t there, “What happened to the-“
“Vampire saliva, helps humans heal bite marks as quick as vampires themselves. One little lick and they close right up.”
“Oh,” Harry says, trying not to be disappointed. “I thought you were going to do that some more though?”
Louis grins, and there’s a smear of red on each canine that probably ought to horrify Harry, but instead it just makes him shiver with want. “I’ll drink some more from you, babe, don’t worry,” he assures Harry, tugging his own top off to reveal even more tattoos covering his skin. “I just bit your carotid artery, though. Can’t have you bleeding out while I fuck you, now can I?”
He ducks his head without waiting for Harry’s reply and mouths at the front of his boxers, leaving hot, wet kisses all up and down the clothed length. “Please, Louis,” Harry groans, pushing hips up a little rudely into the sensation.
He doesn’t get what he’s looking for, however, because Louis pulls back with a rueful smile. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at oral when I’ve been eating,” he says abashedly. “I’m a little, er, toothy.”
It’s a testament to how needy Harry is that he doesn’t even appreciate the awful pun. “Just get your fingers in me,” he says breathlessly, “and we’ll call it even.”
The man atop him scrambles to obey, disappearing for a moment to lean over the side of the bed and coming back up with lube and a little foil condom packet. Harry pushes his boxers down his thighs while Louis works lube on his fingers, spreading his legs eagerly. Louis doesn’t disappoint, wasting no time before running his fingertips across Harry’s entrance and pressing one inside.
Harry’s normally a massive fan of fingering; he loves to have is partner tease him open slowly and make him come just from gentle fingers on his prostate. Tonight, though, he shuts his eyes and focuses on willing his body to relax for Louis, no matter how long it’s been since he’s had someone inside of him. Between the two of them they manage to make quick work of the prep, working up to three fingers and an easy, slick slide before Louis angles up towards his prostate and Harry crows in delight.
“Inside me, inside me, inside me, please,” he chants, eyes jamming shut and hands reaching down blindly to try to push Louis’ clothing off of him. He manages to work trousers and pants down to mid-thigh, which he supposes is good enough. “I’m ready for you, I need you to- hey, where are you going?”
Louis is pulling his fingers out and wiping them on the duvet, then fumbling at the condom wrapper with a laugh. “Safety first, Harold. Try to breathe, won’t you? I swear to you, I’ll be inside of you in like thirty seconds if you’ll just be patient.”
It’s a Herculean feat, but Harry manages to lie mostly still while Louis quickly rolls the condom on and smears a little more lube on his length for good measure. He whimpers when he feels the tip of Louis’ cock nudge at his entrance. “Louis, please,” he whispers.
“I’ve got you, babe,” Louis whispers as he pushes in.
It takes a long minute of progressively deeper thrusts before Louis is able to work all the way inside of Harry, but they both exhale in relief when he does. “You’re so bloody tight it’s ridiculous, you know that?” pants Louis, adjusting Harry’s thighs on either side of him so he can change the angle a little. He’s so close to Harry’s prostate it’s unfair. “How long’s it been since someone’s fucked you properly, Haz?”
“Too long,” Harry says simply. “Will you bite me again? Please?”
The grin makes an appearance in Louis’ voice without Harry even opening his eyes to see it. “You’re not going to last long once I bite you.”
“Yes I will,” protests Harry, knowing very well that it’s a damn lie. He just wants that pleasure again, that otherworldly ache in his whole body. And he wants it now. “I’ll hold off. Promise.”
Louis picks up the pace of his hips and fucks silently into him for another thirty seconds before leaning down to whisper, “I can hear your heartbeat, Harry, and I know you’re lying to me.”
But then he’s nudging Harry’s head to the side and biting down on his neck once more, the pinch of his fangs offset by the change in angle that leaves his cock thrusting right overtop Harry’s prostate. For one second everything is simultaneously ungodly good and not good enough, and then Louis is drinking, long drags of Harry’s lifeblood and that overwhelming pleasure is back, making every nerve ending from his head to his toes fire excitedly.
He’s coming before he even has time to process his orgasm’s impending arrival, shouting and grappling at Louis’ back and shooting cum between their naked torsos. Louis hums against his neck, never letting up in the draining of Harry’s blood or the pace of his thrusts into Harry, muscles tense. By the time Harry is coming down from his orgasm, however, Louis’ rhythm is getting sloppy and his thrusts are getting harder and then he’s coming too, pressed deep inside of Harry and holding there as blood pulses into his mouth and he pulses into Harry.
That dizzy, smoky pleasure of the feed continues for another minute as they both stay exactly where they are, cocks softening and heartbeats slowing, until finally Louis pulls his mouth back and licks at Harry’s throat once more. A beat later he pulls out as well, crawling out from the frame of Harry’s thighs to kneel by his side so that Harry can relax his legs, spent. “Y’alright?” Louis murmurs.
Harry hums in agreement and turns his face towards Louis. The red flecks are gone from his eyes, and when Louis leans in to kiss him, he’s surprised to feel Louis’ tongue teasing at his own and no fangs to be seen. “They just go away when you’re done eating?”
“Mmhmm. Kinda hard to go about everyday life with your fangs out 24/7.” Louis grunts with exertion as he pushes himself up off the bed. “Hold on a sec, I’ll get something to clean you up with, yeah?” He makes his way to the door, easing the spent condom off as he goes, then returns a moment later with a damp cloth that he swipes across Harry’s tummy and between his thighs. He looks up at Harry and pauses, then folds the cloth over to a clean side and dabs at the skin on either side of Harry’s neck. “Bit of a messy eater, sorry.”
“I don’t mind,” Harry grins. “That was incredible. Both parts. The sex thing and the blood thing.”
“Well see now it’s going to sound silly if I ask if it was as good for you as it was for me, and that’s really the only line I have,” Louis jokes in return. The smile only lingers for a second before his gaze turns thoughtful. “Do you- do you want to remember this?”
“What?”
“Well normally- there’s this thing called glamoring, where basically vampires can hypnotize people, right?” Louis continues nervously. “And so really, we’re supposed to glamor humans after we feed to make them forget it ever happened, so that they don’t go out and tell the world that we’re real. But I just- would you like to remember?”
There’s no hesitation. “Of course I would,” Harry says earnestly. “That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. I can’t believe vampires are real, and- and the way that felt, Jesus Christ.”
“Might ruin you for all non-vampire sex,” teases Louis, “but I think you can be trusted with the secret. You won’t tell, will you?”
“Never. If I tell, then everyone will want a piece of you. Then I might have competition if I come back to that bar sometime.” Harry’s sort of teasing, but mostly not. Mostly he’s just anxious for next time already.
“Does that mean I get to see you around sometime, maybe?” Louis smiles slowly, grin working its way across his face.
“If you’re lucky. I kind of have to go, though, sorry, I know that’s super rude,” Harry says regretfully, sitting up on the bed. “I have a meeting at like half seven tomorrow.”
The clock already reads two in the morning, and Louis nods vigorously. “Yeah, no, of course, go on,” he rushes to say. “No worries. Seriously, thank you for even coming. The sex was fantastic and you… Jesus, you taste like fucking maraschino cherries.”
Harry laughs, long and loud, and finds his clothes where they’ve been tossed aside so he can tug them back on. Louis just sits there on the side of the bed, clutching the washrag, watching Harry dress. When the last boot has been pushed on, Harry leans over to kiss Louis, hard. “Thank you,” he murmurs quietly. “I needed that.”
Louis doesn’t know what to say, so he just nods and swallows. “Be sure to rehydrate,” he offers weakly.
Harry smiles like it’s the most brilliant thing he’s ever heard and backs towards the door, slipping out and through the flat until Louis hears the front door open and shut behind him. What a strange kid, he thinks as he stretches the ache from his muscles. Beautiful, but strange.
…………………
Louis never really got fully dressed after Harry left, merely slipping on a pair of boxers to stop Liam from yelling at him about his nudity and settling in to enjoy his time off. Most nights he works as a security guard at a local museum but he has Fridays and Saturdays off, which means that after Harry makes his awkward exit Louis is free to sit around half-naked and play video games before the sun comes up once more and he heads to bed for a nice, long, luxurious sleep.
The sun is setting and Louis’ only just woken up, limbs heavy with slumber and belly full from his excellent feed the night before. It was definitely the best he’d had in a very long time, between Harry’s lanky, gorgeous body and his sweet, fruity taste. It isn’t a joke, the old saying about “you are what you eat,” and Louis knew a fruitatarian when he tasted one. Delightful.
He’s just rooting around for the remote to the telly when a knock sounds at the door. “Is that you, Payno?” Louis calls as he makes his way toward it, delighted at the prospect of getting to tease Liam for once instead of the other way around. “You’re gonna be so bloody late for work. What, did you forget your keys or something?”
The door swings wide to reveal not Liam, but Harry, looking bashful. “Um, yeah, actually. I did. Forget my keys.”
“Harry,” says Louis quietly, all surprise. “What are you doing here? Oh, duh, you’ve just said, haven’t you? Forgot your keys, right.” He’s babbling and he knows it. Harry knows it too, if his smirk is any indication. “Did you, um- come in, come in.”
“I didn’t realize I’d left them until I got all the way home, had to crash at my friends’ place,” Harry smiles, coming inside so Louis can shut the door behind him and block out the fading rays of sunlight. “I guess you got me so flustered I forgot to check my pockets before I left.”
The idea of Harry being flustered when he left last night makes Louis’ grin widen, because he’d certainly been flustered himself. He doesn’t say anything though, just leads Harry through the flat to the bedroom. After kicking aside a few discarded items of clothing the keys are revealed, attached to a worn blue keychain that looks like something Harry might have made at summer camp when he was twelve. Somehow the idea of Harry being sentimental enough to keep a childhood craft isn’t surprising to Louis at all.
“Found them,” he cheerily announces, snatching the keys up from the carpet and jingling them in front of Harry’s eyes. “Am I a vampire or a knight in shining armor? Trick question, I’m both.”
“Not sure what I’d do without you,” Harry says drily. “I’d have to scale the side of my building and in through the window to get into my flat. I don’t suppose you can turn into a bat and just fly in for me?”
“Well luckily you found your keys, ‘cause I’m afraid that’s just a myth. Almost all the vampire shit is. We pretty much just drink blood. And tea. Would you like some tea?”
As soon as the words are out of Louis’ mouth he frowns, unsure why he even said them. Of course Harry doesn’t want tea. He just came here for his keys, he probably never would have wanted to see Louis again in the light of day if he didn’t need the damn thing so badly-
“I would love some tea,” Harry answers, interrupting Louis’ mental rant. “Do you have sugar?”
Louis likes to think that he’s generally a good person despite his bloodsucking tendencies, so he barely even harasses Harry for his tea preferences while he goes about making the drinks, Harry’s with sugar but no milk and his own with milk and no sugar. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says conversationally.
“Oh.” Harry’s tone is flat. “Do you have plans or something? You didn’t have to make me tea if you need me to go.”
“No, like you shouldn’t be here. In my flat again. You’re not supposed to seek out predators, you know.” His back is turned, watching milk make his tea a swirling, creamy white that’s a lot like Harry’s skin. “You’ve had your fun once, I get that, but you really shouldn’t hang around a guy like me.”
“Why not?”
“Because my people eat your people for breakfast. Literally. Gazelles don’t hang out with lions, Harry, it isn’t safe.” Louis spins around with the mugs of tea and takes them to Harry, who’s sat at the kitchen table. He sits at the seat catty-cornered from him with a stern look. “And they definitely don’t go to lion bars and ask lions to take them home to eat them. Stay away from places like that, okay? They’re dangerous. Vampires are dangerous people and you could get hurt or worse.”
“I’m a big boy, I make my own choices,” comes Harry’s stubborn reply. “I’ll weigh the risks myself and decide if it’s worth the reward.”
“There are less dangerous ways to get a thrill, trust me.”
“It’s not about a thrill,” argues Harry. “If I wanted a thrill I could get it anywhere. I’m not going to get the best orgasm of my life just anywhere, though.” Louis’ mouth gets dry and there’s a million things he should probably say, but Harry cuts him off by jerking his chin at Louis’ mug in curiosity. “So if you have to drink blood for nourishment, how come you can eat regular food?”
The whiplash fades after a few seconds. “Dunno, not really a ton of research on vampire digestion, is there?” Louis shrugs, grateful at least to be on a safer topic. “All I know is that I can eat and drink all the human stuff that I want, but it doesn’t make me any less hungry. I guess it just doesn’t do anything at all.”
“So you can eat human food, you don’t get hurt by garlic, and you can’t turn into a bat,” Harry says thoughtfully, ticking each item off on his fingers. “Immortality? Ability to fly? What about sunlight, any truth to that?”
“Not immortal, I can’t fly, and I don’t burst into flames if that’s what you mean,” grins Louis. “Does make us sick though. Nauseous-like.”
He can see the gears turning in Harry’s mind, little scientist that he is. “That’s fascinating. It must be some sort of biochemical sensitivity. Maybe to vitamin D? Or maybe solar radiation. Something that doesn’t affect humans in a significant way but that vampires are vulnerable to. How sick does it make you?”
“Not- I mean not terribly ill,” Louis answers after a thoughtful pause. He can’t help but be a little amused by Harry’s charmed fascination. “I guess like the equivalent of walking around with a stomach bug, maybe? Not that I’ve ever had a stomach bug. Vampires don’t get sick.”
“What do you mean?”
“We don’t get sick. Like, ever.”
Harry’s jaw is about to hit the table as he stares at Louis with wide eyes. “Is that like an exaggerated thing, like you just don’t get sick often, or do you actually mean to tell me that you’ve never been sick?”
Louis flushes a little and fixes his fringe in case that makes him appear less flustered. “I mean, I’ve been hung over.”
“You must have incredible immune systems,” Harry whispers reverently. “Are your receptors different than humans’? Or maybe you just have more antibodies. Oh my god, maybe you have the immunities of all of your prey, like by drinking their blood you assumed their antibodies. So all local diseases you’re already equipped to fight off and they never manifest. If you were exposed to a foreign disease though, if you were to like come into contact with a strain of malaria or something, you wouldn’t have inherited that immunity, so-”
“Okay you’re really starting to creep me out,” Louis says nervously, looking Harry over with wary eyes. “If you come anywhere near me with any needles full of strange diseases you should know that I’m stronger and faster than you.”
“What? No! Oh, no no no no no I would never try to like give you anything.” Harry flushes deep red as he comes out of his trance of mutterings. “No, I just meant like, in the hypothetical sense. My interest is in epidemiology, see, so like, vaccines and the spread of diseases is my thing. The fact that you have some sort of biological immunity, it’s so- it’s so cool.”
The funny thing is, he doesn’t appear to be kidding; in the tense seconds that follow Harry keeps grinning with genuine delight no matter how suspicious Louis’ gaze. Finally the vampire laughs and runs his hand through his messy hair once more. “Normally when people geek out about vampires it’s because of our fangs and stuff, not because of our immune systems,” he jokes weakly.
“Well those are cool, too!” Harry says with delight. “Like, can you make them appear whenever? Or disappear?”
“They show up whenever I scent blood, and if I concentrate I can make them appear whenever, like if I know I’m going to eat I just think about that and it works even if there’s no blood yet. I can’t make them go away until I’m done eating, though.” Louis grins wryly. “Bit like getting a hard-on for blood I guess. Doesn’t usually go away unless you do something about it or wait it out.”
“Can I see them? Your fangs? You don’t have to if you don’t want, like I don’t know if that’s like an appropriate thing to ask or whatever, but-”
Louis lets himself smirk for one brief moment before shutting his eyes to concentrate. He’s done this a million times, of course, so it’s practically a science now. A scene plays out in his head. He imagines leaning in towards Harry, sniffing at the curve of his neck and letting his sweet scent fill Louis’ head, biting down right where his pulse is loudest and feeling hot, thick blood spilling over his tongue-
Sure enough, there’s the familiar prick on the inside of his mouth as his canines extend downwards, growing until they jab at his lower gums in a demand for him to open his mouth. He quickly complies, dropping his jaw and holding his mouth open for Harry’s viewing pleasure. “They just look like regular teeth,” Harry muses, “just sharper. And longer, obviously. The bone must not be connected to the skull, just separate and controlled by some sort of voluntary and involuntary muscular contractions.”
“Mm, yeah, talk nerdy to me.”
Harry doesn’t respond as he leans in and brings his fingers up to play at Louis’ lips for a better look. “It probably works like any other kind of muscle contraction, where feeding stimulates a neural chain reaction that signals the muscles to contract, and when the stimulus goes away the firing rate drops and the muscle contractions stop, letting the fangs recede back into- ah!”
The smell of Harry’s blood reaches Louis’ nose before the drop of blood from Harry’s thumb even lands on his tongue. He wraps a strong hand around Harry’s wrist as he shudders, forcing himself to remain calm as he pulls Harry’s fingers away from the fang he pricked himself on. Slowly, carefully, he slides his tongue across the pad of Harry’s thumb to collect the bead of blood there, feeling the wound already starting to knit together beneath his lips as he plants a kiss on the skin. Just those two little drops of sweet blood have his whole mouth watering, and he savors the taste in the too-brief seconds before it’s gone.
“Please be careful,” he says huskily, releasing Harry’s hand at last. “Once I get a taste it’s a bitch to stop feeding. You can’t afford to lose any more blood after all I drank last night, but when you feed, it’s like- instinct tells me to take all you have. It’s so hard to stop.”
“You stopped last night,” Harry breathlessly replies, voice barely above a whisper. “Right in the middle you stopped.”
“Yeah, because I had other things to distract me. I wanted to fuck your body more than I wanted to suck your blood,” Louis says with no little embarrassment. “Sex is a good distractor, okay?”
“You could have sex with me now.”
“I- what?” Louis looks up into Harry’s eyes, startled, but before the words can sink in Harry is sliding off of his chair and sinking to his knees in front of Louis, hands coming up to tug at the waist of Louis’ boxers. “You don’t- you don’t have to do that.”
“I’m a big boy,” Harry echoes himself as he mouths at the base of Louis’ quickly hardening cock. “I make my own choices.”
Louis can’t really say much about that, after all, so he just sits back and counts his blessings as Harry takes his length into his mouth and starts making long, slow drags. What does he really have to complain about? He’s well fed, he’s got a gorgeous boy bobbing on his cock, and perhaps best of all he’s got reasonable hope that he’s going to be allowed to taste said boy again in the future. That’s all that matters, right? Life is good.
Life gets better. Harry’s hands are warm from holding his mug when he wraps one around Louis’ length, and Louis wonders if Harry can hear the stutter of his breath. He’s got a mouth that ought to be illegal, or perhaps given a medal of honor for its incredible service. Harry has a knack for getting just the right amount of suction to tease him all the way to hardness, and Louis’ mouth drops open and his legs spread wider to give Harry all the access he wants.
Once Louis is mewling with every pump of Harry’s hand on his cock, the boy stills his fingers and holds the length steady as he pushes his head down to nudge Louis’ tip into his throat. With a loud expletive and a tremendous amount of willpower, Louis manages not to fuck up into his mouth, fisting his hands in his own hair and yanking instead like that’s going to release the tension between his thighs. (It doesn’t.)
Finally Harry pulls off, gagging a little, and gives himself time to breathe by working his tongue over Louis’ cock from base to tip. At first it’s long strokes, slow, then rough flicks of his tongue just above Louis’ balls that make him actually whimper like a man without dignity. By the time he’s lapping at the head and panting hot breath all over Louis’ tip, the poor man feels like he’s about thirty seconds from orgasm and Harry’s mouth isn’t even properly on him.
“Louis,” Harry says between rough licks at the tip of Louis’ cock. “Look at me.”
With a great show of effort Louis does, glancing down his body to find Harry looking up at him with bright green eyes all glassy with lust. “Jesus, you look good.”
Harry takes the tip into his mouth once more, pulls off with a pop, and stands to his feet with a cheery brush of his hands. “Your fangs are gone,” he says lightly. “So I guess you’re not in danger of eating me anymore. Anyways I really ought to be going, but I’ll see you around sometime?”
The effect on Louis’ dick is instantaneous, his hardness and enthusiasm flagging in unison as Harry’s words sink in. “Right, sure, thanks,” he says, only a little strangled, refusing to let the fact that he desperately wants to come all over Harry’s face turn him into some kind of arsehole who’s going to pressure for sex. Harry was just helping him put the fangs away after all. “Did you want to maybe trade numbers or something?” he forces himself to say next, leaning down to retrieve his boxers.
Harry pulls out his phone and unlocks it for Louis to put his digits in, then kisses him on the cheek and makes his way towards the door with nothing more than a cursory ‘see you later.’ Louis watches him go rather mournfully, even if there’s a fake smile plastered all over his face. He might not actually get to watch Harry taste his come today, but at the very least he can be decent enough to give Harry another fifteen seconds to get out the door before he jerks off to the thought of it.
The door’s been shut exactly three seconds and Louis already has his hands down his pants again when it opens back up and in storms Harry to capture Louis’ mouth in a rough, playful kiss. “If you think I’m leaving this flat before you’ve fucked me into the mattress and made me come at least twice, you’re not half as smart as you think you are, lion man.”
Louis’ never been one to let someone else take the lead when it comes to sex but he’s also never been one to turn it down from men who are kissing him hard and yanking him towards the bedroom while shirts go flying, so it doesn’t really make him less of a predator if he lets himself be dragged along by Harry’s currents just this once.
…………………
It isn’t just this once.
It isn’t just a couple of times, despite Louis’ very firm belief that eventually, inevitably, the charm is going to have to wear off. How many times can Harry pepper him with questions about his fangs or his eyes or his sense of smell with fascination before Louis becomes commonplace? How many times can he beg Louis to take his blood while he’s getting fucked before he stops thinking it’s cute that his fuckbuddy gives nontraditional oral?
But Harry never loses the starry eyes, and he doesn’t stop coming to see Louis. He meets Liam and immediately asks if he can compare his and Louis’ sizes, which makes Liam blush down to his toes until he realizes Harry meant their fangs. Louis meets the couple Harry third-wheeled with to that bar and finds out he’s affectionately known as “that punk fanger Harry’s into.”
The especially weird thing is that unless Louis’ mistaken, he might actually be starting to care about Harry. Which is strange because generally speaking humans are blood and sex and past-tense memories, but Harry’s more like a present-tense disaster that keeps showing up at Louis’ flat and tripping over his own feet when they go out and texting him pictures of fluffy baby animals with fangs photoshopped on and endless streams of giggling emojis. Even weirder is the way that Louis starts stocking his fridge with red meats and sugary juices to make sure Harry never gets ill from Louis feeding and catches him every time he trips with lightning-fast reflexes tuned right in to the boy and replies to every stupid stock photo with a dozen laughing emojis and two dozen hearts.
Definitely weird.
He knows he’s absolutely gone for this kid though when Halloween rolls around and he’s positioned neatly underneath Harry’s tidy little thumb. “It’ll be funny, Lou, c’mon,” he insists. “It’s ironic. And no one else will know, it’ll just be our little joke.”
Harry presses a soft kiss to Louis’ mouth, which is a thing they do sometimes that Louis has yet to learn how not to be startled by. Sometimes they just kiss, not leading towards sex or anything, just because they like to kiss. It’s kind of nice, Louis thinks very quietly when he’s by himself. Rather intimate. Sort of makes him want to give Harry the world.
Definitely makes him want to give Harry what he wants, which at this particular moment in time is for Louis to attend his friend Ed’s Halloween party dressed up as Dracula. “You don’t think I should be something more interesting? A doctor? Peter Pan? Anything? You get to see me as a vampire like every day.”
“Yeah, but no one else does,” comes the very serious reply. “I get to see how incredible you are, but no one else gets to know that. You should take this one day to celebrate how wonderful and complex and unique you are in front of the whole world, even if they don’t know it.
Harry kisses him again and Louis isn’t quite sure how it happens, but he winds up leaving the house that evening with his fangs on display feeling butterflies that aren’t entirely just about the thrill of the night.
By the time the weather really gets chilly, Harry’s all but moved in with Louis. Which is fine with Louis; there’s at least a fifty percent chance that if he rolls over at any given point in the day then he’s going to find the handsomest human he’s ever seen who’s nearly always willing to put aside his textbooks and give Louis attention. If he’s not on the other side of Louis’ bed, he’s probably in the kitchen doing work at the table and waiting for Louis to wake up and give him a scruffy kiss on the cheek before making himself tea and dropping a Gatorade in front of Harry because he looks like maybe Louis’ a little too well fed.
Which he is, without a doubt. Really, Louis only needs to feed for a few minutes once a week in order to stay healthy, a small enough amount that Harry should be able to function as his sole food source without ever feeling more than just faintly weak for a few hours after a feed. The problem is that he’s so fucking eager for it, always begging Louis to drink from him, especially during sex. Louis could make him come just fine with no blood whatsoever, and likes to prove that point frequently. But there was just something about the blood high that made Harry swear it was ten times more powerful than a regular orgasm, and if Louis finds himself helpless to resist Harry begging for that, well, he can adjust his diet to a series of small snacks throughout the week rather than one big meal.
Harry’s even been practicing holding off his orgasm while Louis feeds. He’s made it to an entire sixty seconds of feeding before he comes, even while getting fucked, which he is endlessly proud of and always trying to best. That’s his aim now as he bounces on Louis’ cock and presses his wrist to those thin, pretty lips. “Cmon, Lou, I’m close. Please? Please please please?”
“I just drank from you last night, I’m bursting at the gills.” Louis’ laid back on the bed with his hands gripping Harry’s hips to help him up and down, trying not to pop a fang at the feel of Harry’s pulse pounding beneath the skin of his wrist. “You’re overfeeding me and if you don’t watch it I’m gonna get fat.”
“I’d still love you,” Harry pants.
It’s probably a good thing that Harry is the one controlling the action right now, because all of a sudden Louis feels frozen. His hands tighten mindlessly on Harry’s hips and the next time Harry puts his wrist in front of Louis’ mouth he doesn’t have enough neurons still firing to resist, biting down and teasing the hot blood from Harry’s body until his thighs quake and he comes all over Louis with a whimper and a clench that has Louis coming, too.
Louis isn’t weird about it. He doesn’t even mention it, actually, as he cleans them both up and sees Harry off to his morning classes. He makes no mention whatsoever to the L word or the fact that it just happened for the first time, completely out of the blue, when they aren’t even dating.
He’s never been one for making something out of nothing, so instead of being weird, Louis just quietly takes a step back from the relationship. Or several steps. Because this thing is, it’s probably his fault Harry said that. He's spent months now keeping this kid around is flat, fucking him senseless and drinking his blood and practically begging the poor guy to develop some sort of false attachment. Even if they were romantic (and Louis is not completely an idiot so he can see how maybe they are, how maybe kisses for the sake of kisses are the kind of things that boyfriends do rather than lovers), Harry loving him would just be silly.
No, Louis figures when he purposefully takes four hours to respond to Harry’s good morning text the next day, it’s probably much better if he just creates a little space.
It’s easier said than done, apparently, because Harry still replies back in under sixty seconds every time Louis texts no matter what ridiculous response time Louis had, and he still pops in at Louis’ flat unannounced far too often. He doesn’t seem more than offhandedly disappointed when Louis starts saying he’s too tired for sex more often than not, and he apparently sees the logic when Louis points out that they’ll have room to stretch out if they watch their movie on separate couches rather than tangled up together on one.
Eventually, though, it starts to take effect. Disappointment turns to frustration and Harry even heaves a great sigh when Louis passes on his offer of rimming (again). Louis brushes aside his concern at the fact that he hasn’t fed in days and watches Harry’s jaw clench. He can tell things are really going well, however, when he texts Harry and asks if he wants to do lunch and his message gets read and downright ignored.
Everything is going swimmingly right up until Louis gets hungry.
It’s been about ten days since he’s fed, four days since Harry ignored his text and radio silence ensued. Which is fine, which is great, because they’re not in love and they’re not dating and friends who fuck should be able to not talk to each other for four days and be fine. It’s just that Louis’ sort of grown used to having a snack at least every few days and he’s starting to get an awful ache in his throat from thirst that’s making him rather cranky.
Liam just shakes his head when Louis complains about it to him. “Don’t look at me, mate, I don’t have anything to nibble on. Either man up and phone your boyfriend or go out and pick something up. Your choice.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Louis says firmly, and pretends he doesn’t notice Liam’s eye roll when Louis reaches for his wallet and keys. What does Liam know, anyways?
…………………
Harry’s weak and he knows it but it really isn’t at all his fault. Four days he’s made it, four entire days without talking to Louis no matter how much it killed him. It isn’t like him at all to ignore texts or play games, but honestly at this point it isn’t even about Louis. It’s about how bloody confused Harry is by Louis’ stupid mixed signals and after four days of trying to figure it out the only conclusion he’s come to is that Louis doesn’t even seem to be bothered.
It’s probably weak to give up after only four days, but Harry needs answers and he’s smart enough to know that they aren’t going to be found outside of Louis’ flat.
It’s just barely 10pm when he arrives so he uses the spare key Louis gave him and slips in quietly, hoping that he’ll be able to make Louis apology tea and have it waiting before he even wakes up. If he hasn’t been able to get through to Louis via blood or sex, maybe he could do it via tea. At this point he’s willing to try just about anything to get some sort of reaction, and tea is only plan C out of Q.
He’s already got the tea from the cupboard when he hears the first moan.
For a second he thinks it must have been a mistake, a creaky floorboard or something, because Liam’s keys weren’t in the little dish by the door which means Louis is the only one here and that was definitely a girly-sounding moan. Harry’s made Louis moan more times than he can count and that’s not a Louis sound. So it must be a mistake, it must be the flat next door or a TV left on or some kind of sick joke, except that there it is again carrying words that sound like please, Louis, fuck and Harry’s opening Louis’ door in a dumbfounded stupor.
Louis is kneeling on the bed with a pretty brunette girl beneath him, his knees atop her open thighs and his hands pinning her wrists to the mattress. Harry can see from the door that Louis’ got his mouth on her neck, eyes shut in pleasure, but not three seconds after Harry enters the room they snap open and red-blue locks in on green in dismay.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Harry says drily, but he doesn’t make a move to back away. He can’t, actually, even if he wanted to, because his heart is pounding and he feels lightheaded and he’s just frozen there, staring. There’s no room in his head for instructions on how to move his feet and run because he’s too busy trying to compute how his entire heart could crumple so completely in the space of fifteen seconds. “I- I should go.”
“Harry, wait,” Louis says as he pulls off with a slurp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before ducking back in to lick at the wounds he created. “Please wait, hold on, this isn’t what it looks like.”
“Really? Because it looks like you’re in bed with a girl.” A little tendril of anger unfurls in Harry’s belly and he clenches his jaw as he starts stepping back out of the room. “Whatever, Louis, you do what you want.”
“Harry, wait- shit.” Louis grabs the face of the girl still protesting beneath him and looks fiercely into her eyes. “You were never here,” he says lowly, voice like honey. “You never met me. You went home with some bloke and drank too much and the whole night is a blur. You’re going to go down to the lobby and get a cab home and never come here again.”
As soon as she’s freed, the girl gets up, grabs her purse, and walks past Harry and towards the exit with a dazed look on her face. Harry shakes the haze of emotion from his head and moves to follow, wrenching his arm away when he feels a delicate hand on his elbow. “Don’t, Louis.”
“Please talk to me,” Louis begs, zipping around Harry to block his exit as the front door slams shut behind the mystery girl. “Can you at least tell me why you’re mad? I was just feeding-”
Harry feels like his eyes are about to pop out of his head in disbelief. “I think I have the right to be mad when I walk in on the guy I’m dating in bed with someone else!”
“We’re not dating,” Louis says desperately, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “When did we ever talk about dating? I’m trying to give you space so you won’t get caught up in all the blood and the sex and start thinking I’m more than I am, but I still have to bloody eat. You can’t tell me I’m supposed to starve myself just because we’re growing apart. It’s just food!”
If looks could kill, Louis was as good as staked. “Her thighs were open. You were pinning her down.”
“Because she was squirming so much that it was hard to feed,” Louis sighs.
“Right, probably because she was having an orgasm thanks to you!”
“That isn’t my fault, Harry!” Louis cries. “I can’t change that it’s going to feel good. But I chose her- a girl, Harry, I don’t even like girls- because it was the least sexual thing I could do. I wasn’t looking for sex, I just had to eat. Okay? I was starving and I didn’t have a choice but I swear to you it wasn’t about sex.”
The words feel a little funny coming out of his mouth, because he probably shouldn’t be so desperate to convince Harry that it wasn’t sexual. It shouldn’t matter, because they’re not dating and this isn’t monogamy and what would it matter if it was sexual? But Louis can’t help but put a little begging in his eyes asking Harry to believe him, because there’s something in his gut that wants to be sick at the thought of doing that with anyone but Harry and somehow, in some way, that’s significant.
Harry’s own eyes are just hurt. “So it was just about blood, then? Alright, so take mine. I’ve been right here all week offering it to you. What’s so wrong with my blood that you had to go and take it from someone else?”
“Nothing’s wrong with your blood, Harry,” Louis replies, heart sinking. “Of course not. Just- Liam introduced me to O negative and it’s really nice tasting, so-”
“Bullshit, Lou,” Harry says at once. “You said my blood tastes like cherries. It isn’t about blood at all, is it? It’s about what I said to you that night.”
And there it is. The elephant in the room, the dark cloud hanging over Louis. He swallows, hard. “You said you loved me, Harry.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” Harry replies quaveringly.
“That doesn’t make sense though. We’ve never talked about this, we’ve never- I didn’t even know we were dating, Harry,” says Louis, hands shaking. “Are we dating? I still don’t know. All I know is that we have a lot of sex and I drink a lot of your blood and then without warning you tell me you love me and I don’t know what that means.”
Harry’s shaking his head slowly, quietly. “It was just the blood high. I was just all loopy and euphoric from you feeding off me, is all. It didn’t mean anything, I didn’t mean it.”
“I hadn’t bitten you yet, Harry,” whispers Louis.
“Alright, so I did mean it,” Harry bursts out, looking up at Louis with a new kind of intensity in his eye. “I meant it. I do love you. But if that’s too much, or too soon, then I take it back, okay? I don’t want you to pull away from me just because I can’t keep my mouth shut. I’ll keep it to myself and I won’t say another thing about it. You don’t have to say it back, you don’t have to love me, just- just don’t pull away from me, please.”
His voice is so quiet by the end that he’s barely making any noise at all, looking at Louis with big fat crocodile tears in his eyes. Louis half wants them to fall so he can wipe them away and half wants to never, ever see tears on those lovely cheeks. His heart stutters a tiny bit at the thought.
“That’s the problem, though,” he finally whispers. “I do want to say it back to you. I do love you, if love is this really shitty sensation where my chest feels all tight for making you sad and I want to keep you around me at all times and make you smile until you’re all wrinkly and ugly and kiss you ‘til my lips fall off.”
“Then why- then why can’t you? Why don’t you?” Harry chokes out. The tears fall.
“Because this kind of attachment isn’t healthy, it just isn’t. You’re a human, Harry, and I’m a vampire. How is that normal?” Louis tries to sound as sure as he feels, but his voice is a little quaky. “We shouldn’t be feeling this way, not when we come from two entirely different species. Maybe it’s the feed or something, I don’t know, but you shouldn’t be falling for someone who has to concentrate on not sucking you dry every time you fuck, and I shouldn’t be falling for someone who’s lovely and pure enough to be enchanted by my taste for human blood.” It takes a few deep breaths before he can get out the last bit, the words wrapping around his throat like a noose. “Don’t you think you should find someone a little more like you?”
Harry steps forward and cups Louis’ face in one hand, then leans in to press a soft kiss to his mouth. “If you’re asking me about morals or cosmic oughts, I’m as clueless as you are. But if you’re asking me what’s best for me, then the answer is you. Because you’re what I want and it has nothing to do with your diet.”
“That’s sweet, Harry, but really-”
“I think you’re the most fascinating, brilliant person on the planet and I’m in love with you because I think about how fantastic you are literally every day. I think you’re stupid for shaming yourself about what you are, but I love you anyways.” Harry’s brow is furrowed like if he says it all forcefully enough Louis will believe it. “I don’t care that you’re a vampire, as long as you’re mine.”
Louis turns his head a little to kiss the palm of Harry’s hand. He hopes it communicates how sorry he is that they can’t agree on this. “I don’t want to fight,” he whispers.
After one agonizingly long moment, Harry nods. “Then let’s not.”
They have sex that night, skin on skin, tangled up together beneath the covers with chests flush against one another and limbs wound tight around each other. Louis bites down softly before Harry even has to beg for it and drinks from him for ages, until his stomach aches with fullness and Harry is so high Louis’ half afraid he’ll never come down. Eventually he does, though, the haze leaving his eyes as he blinks over at Louis on the pillow next to him, and when he drifts off to sleep there’s a peace in the curve of his shoulders that’s more satisfied than Louis’ ever seen it.
This is what makes it hard, seeing Harry like this. When he’s awake Harry can be flirty and loud and sexy and smart, but when he sleeps he’s just sweet, he’s only ever sweet. His lengthy body gets all relaxed with slumber and his mouth parts just a bit and his eyelashes flutter when he dreams and he’s a picture of innocence even if he’s just been wrecked. These are the moments that make Louis want to change the locks and never see him again, oddly enough, because he can’t help but think that something so lovely ought to have a better lot in life than a boyfriend who can’t take him for picnics in the sunshine and has to drain him of life in order to survive. He deserves the world.
Harry’s breathing stutters a little and he curves a little more into Louis, scooting closer so his head lies on Louis’ shoulder and their legs are all tangled hopelessly together. One of Louis’ hands drops to card through his curls, softly petting the younger boy as he begins to hum the song that always seems to get stuck in his head when he has quiet moments with Harry. Oh, oh, be my baby, and I’ll look after you, he sings in his head and looks fondly on as Harry snuffles contentedly. The city spins around, but you’re the only one who knows, you slow it down. Oh, oh, be my baby, and I’ll look after you.
That’s when it hits him, looking over at Harry asleep in his bed and sighing like there’s nothing wrong in the world even though there so definitely is. Louis wants to give him the world. He wants to be a safe place, to be the reason Harry smiles in his sleep, to give him everything he wants because he deserves it all. He deserves far better than what Louis’ been giving him these last few weeks, that’s for sure. He deserves far better than a stupid, moral boyfriend who refuses to let them be happy for stupid, moral reasons. At the very least he deserves to know that he has Louis’ heart, since it’s the unadulterated truth.
It takes several gentle kisses to Harry’s slack mouth before he blinks awake, kissing back before he even has the capacity to register what’s happening. “L-Louis? Is everything okay-”
“Let me talk for a sec, yeah?” Louis murmurs with heart pounding. “I have to say this now. I love you, and I love you so much that I want you to have every good thing in the world. Maybe that doesn’t involve me, I don’t know, but I’m positive it doesn’t involve me being an arsehole on a high horse refusing to give you what you want because I think I know best. So for as long as I’m what you want, I wanna be yours, okay? No matter what, I just wanna be yours.”
Harry gives him a few startled blinks and then pulls him in for more kisses. He falls asleep again maybe a lifetime or two later, lips still brushing up against Louis’, and Louis stays right there in bed with him until the morning. He doesn’t mind wasting away his waking hours here. Oddly enough, if he’s with Harry they don’t feel wasted at all.
…………………
Louis stands behind Harry outside of the testing room and rubs his shoulders like a trainer prepping his prize fighter for the final round of the big match. “You’ve got this, baby, you’ve so got this,” he murmurs, kneading the knots of tension from the top of Harry’s spine with careful thumbs. “You’ve studied all week for this, every night, impervious to my attempts to lead you astray. If my dick can’t distract you, you’re unconquerable.”
“Shut up, there are people around,” Harry hisses, but it gets choked out by a giggle. He’s waiting to take his Infectious Diseases final, and he selected the latest available time slot at the testing center so that Louis could come along and give him a pep talk just before he goes in. “I just really want to get a good grade in the class. The professor says if you do, you’re more likely to get an internship with the ECDC-”
“You’re going to ace the test, and you’re going to get whatever internship you want because anyone on the planet would be lucky to have a brilliant mind like yours working for them,” Louis tells him, and he isn’t just saying that. “You’re incredible at what you do and you’re going to have your own lab someday curing ebola in your spare time or something.”
“Spending my whole life curing diseases that you’re already immune to,” Harry grumbles, a familiar grievance. “It’s not fair, Lou, how come you get to touch rusty needles anytime you like but we have to have entire career fields dedicated to keeping humans healthy?”
“Well I do have to keep up an extraordinarily particular diet, so it’s a tradeoff,” Louis smirks. “But don’t worry, love, when you get your own lab I’ll come in and be your star test subject whenever you want, yeah? You can have your way with me and unravel all kinds of mysteries if you’d like. Provided you have overnight hours of course.”
Harry turns around and drapes his arms around Louis’ neck until the older man grabs hold of his waist and pulls him close. “How do you know I won’t hand you over to my colleagues to poke and prod you like a lab rat, hmm? I could make good money off of you that way.”
“You could,” Louis admits, “but you love me too much.”
“Yeah. Yeah I do.” Harry doesn’t look too put out.
“Sell Liam instead, that’s a solid plan. Which, by the way, he’s out with his new girlfriend tonight, so I was thinking…” Louis leans in until his mouth is brushing against Harry’s ear and whispers quiet as could be. “If you get a good score on your test, I think I might reward you by having myself a two-course meal tonight. First course, Sangre de Boyfriend, second course Boyfriend Sans Clothes. How’s that sound?”
The proctor starts ushering students into the testing room before Harry can reply so Louis just kisses him quickly and spins the boy around, nudging him forward with the crowd with a cheeky swat to the bum. “I love you,” he calls to soften the tease. “I’m proud of you. You’re going to smash it.”
Harry sets the curve on the exam. Louis thinks dinner is rather delicious. They both agree dessert is even better.