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James “Logan” Howlett's Journal
1st of December – My information was wrong. Westchester castle is deserted and there is no vampire here. There is only the grounds keeper by the name of Hank McCoy, keeping the place from falling to ruins until its owner returns. He said he could use a helping hand, since the villagers are superstitious of the old building and refuse to come and work there, even though there is an extensive fund set up by the castle's owner to pay for any repairs.
I must admit I'm tired of hunting vampires. Some peace and quiet might do me good for a while. It's not like I can stay here forever. The day will come when someone will notice my secret, that I don't grow old like normal humans do. But it's not today, nor tomorrow.
So I have decided to stay here for now. This might very well be the last entry for some time, until that day I pick up hunting again there will be nothing of interest to write.
May
The sun was already high up as Logan woke up. Having spent decades hunting vampires had led to him waking and sleeping depending on the job. He had always tried to use they daylight to his advantage though,and slay the vampires while they were asleep. But now that he had put that life aside and settled down, even if only for a while, it appeared like he was actually a late riser. And someone who found great pleasure in luxuries.
He pulled aside the silk sheets he'd slept under and slid his legs out of the bed. It no longer seemed strange to claim one of the castles lavish rooms for his own. Hank, grounds keeper and only other person living here, had said it was alright. Though Logan had assumed at first he would share the small cottage with Hank as he made the decision to stay here and help out, Hank had objected with subtle objections until even Logan had gotten the hint.
Though Hank was glad for the extra pair of hands he wasn't too thrilled to share the place he had been able to call his own for a long time.
Well, it was time to earn the privilege of the soft bed and peace. He stood up and swayed slightly. He shook his head, surprised at the sudden flash of dizziness. A deep breath, another, then his head cleared. "I'm not getting soft, am I?"
For a moment his gaze was drawn back to the bed, as if there was something important he had forgotten about, right there – then the feeling was gone and he went to pick up his clothes from where he had left them thrown over a chair the night before. As he pulled on his trousers he gazed absently at the large mirror opposite the bed.
'Look at you...'
The touch of lips, soft as petals against his neck, raising goosebumps all over his body.
'Mine...'
A gentle whisper followed by sharp pain that sunk deep into his flesh, like the prick of thorns, sharp yet delicious.
Heat coursing through his body, spilling across his shoulders and chest, dark red rivulets against pale skin, against even redder lips, and eyes so blue he could loose himself in them.
'Forever...'
A fleeting memory sparked teasingly just on the tip of his perception, before it slipped his grasp and was gone. Logan put a hand to his right shoulder, absently kneading the muscles there. Then he turned away from the mirror, ignoring the slight arousal churning low in his belly and throbbing through his cock. He finished getting dressed, then headed downstairs. He only stopped briefly in the large empty kitchen to splash cold water on his face, before he went over to Hank's cottage for breakfast.
+
The grounds of Westchester Castle were vast, the work seemed endless, but there was no pressure of having to have something done by a certain time. Others might have considered it boring or tedious, to Logan it was calming and tranquil.
And Hank had proven to be surprising good company. Hank hadn't talked to him much at first, and had seemed almost suspicious of him, despite his affirmation that he was glad for Logan staying on to help. But that attitude had changed and though they still weren’t chattering away while working, it was a companionable silence shared between them.
Today they spent mostly clearing away the shrubs and weeds that had grown all over one of the stone walls in the garden. As Hank was driving off with another load of branches and roots in the wheelbarrow, Logan took a moment for a short break.
Logan stepped over to where the water bottle lay in the shade of a tree and picked it up to take a long sip. He didn't mind some of the water spilling, making his beard wet and trickling down his sweaty throat. He surveyed their managed work. They would have to repair some of the wall with new bricks. Then they could plant some fresh ivy, or rosebushes. Logan wondered if Hank had an inkling about what the absent owner would prefer.
His gaze was drawn over to the imposing building, they grey stone walls in contrast to the green and colourful blooms of the garden.
'Like life and death.' Logan shook his head at the sudden gloomy thought.
He turned away from the castle. For a moment a warm chuckle caressed his mind, warm as sunshine, warm as fresh blood. But the chattering of the birds in the nearby tree quickly distracted his attention away from the odd sound.
+
Hank always grew more quiet in the evening, so after dinner Logan didn't linger in the cottage and left Hank to himself. He went back to the mansion and heated the oven in the kitchen that was used for the boiler connected through different pipes to the baths of the house. There were several. Though Logan only used the one closest to his rooms. The luxury of soaking in a tub of hot water after a full day's physical labour was probably the best thing about the place.
He closed his eyes, braced his arms loosely on the rim of the tub and let his mind drift off.
Strong fingers dragged through his wet hair, massaging his scalp. A content grunt escaped his throat.
'You smell of warmth, sunshine and green grass and fresh earth.'
Logan reached behind himself to capture one of the hands and pull it to his lips. He pressed a kiss against the soft skin, that felt cool against his. 'You can come outside.'
'Yes, thanks to you and your wonderful gift. But I still feel like I need to be careful. Even your life will only take me this far. And if I get careless, I might...'
Logan tightened his grip on the hand, smaller than his, but even with his strength he knew he couldn't break it. 'No. I won't let that happen.' The thought left him aching. He would throw himself between him and the sun, carry him safely back inside –
He turned around, trying to catch a glimpse of those blue eyes, even the sky couldn't rival. But the grip in his hair tightened and forced his head to stay where it was.
'Not yet, soon – soon...'
Head starting to tilt to the side, Logan jerked awake. He looked towards the bathroom window and saw the sky painted a deep crimson, as the sun slowly set. Goosebumps prickled along his skin, and a feeling not unlike anticipation danced along his nerves – then he realised the water in the tub had grown cold. He got out and dried himself off, while he watched the light in the sky turn a paler blueish grey.
As the last of the water ran down the drain with a ominous sucking gurgling sound, Logan was hard pressed not to tense up. He stood there for a moment, fighting down old instincts, that tried to tell him that the time of monsters was almost upon him and that he wasn't safe. He closed his eyes, counted to ten and deliberately relaxed his shoulder, then headed back into the bedroom and pulled on a loose pair of trousers.
Not ready to go to bed yet, Logan headed out of his room. Hank had never indicated that any part of the castle was out of bounds, so Logan had by now gotten very familiar with the place. The rooms were all fully furnished, yet for the most part everything was kept under sheets of linen to protect them from dust and sunlight.
Not so in the large library. Here the books where on proud display in their shelves and several soft cushioned chairs and settees invited one to linger. Logan opened a small cabinet, filled with expensive looking bottles of whiskey, scotch and some that looked decidedly foreign, with letters Logan couldn't decipher.
Probably souvenirs from the castle's owner, who was away on extensive travels, according to Hank.
At first Logan had been reluctant to drink any of it, but Hank had been quite sure and dismissive when he told Logan he could drink whatever he liked of it. "His Lordship doesn't drink alcohol, he mainly keeps them because – I guess – because it's expected."
So Logan poured himself a glass and settled down on one of the settees, slowly nursing his drink, and enjoying the quiet.
He had no intention to read anything, so the grey light filtering in through the large windows, was enough for him to see by. Beside him stood a chess set and he picked up one figure at random. He didn't play, but it always looked like the figures stood differently on the board.
Maybe Hank was coming in here and played against himself.
Idly, he turned the horse-headed figure in his hand, then meant to set it back down at random. For a moment his hand hovered over the board, before felt compelled to put the figure back exactly where he had taken it from.
Finally the room fell dark.
"Time now..." Logan startled at his own voice, and looked confused. What had he meant by that? Time for what? He wasn't tired yet, it seemed much too early to go to bed. He stood up and refilled his glass. He could sit here in the dark a little longer, or light some candles and pull out a book to read. Or get the deck of cards from the drawer underneath the liquor cabinet.
'Logan.'
Confused Logan looked around. He was sure he'd heard someone call his name. He went to the window to look outside.
'...waiting. Come to me.'
Logan rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. He enjoyed the peace and quiet here, but maybe he should take some time tomorrow and head down to the village.
'I need you.'
No, he was content to stay here. He was – this was where he was needed. His brow set in a deep frown and he emptied the glass. Though the effect of alcohol only ever lingered briefly, it left him with a sharp warm taste in his mouth, almost like a kiss.
He set the glass down and headed for the door. He needed to get back to his room, because... It was tauntingly at the edge of his mind. He knew why, but the exact shape of the word was just out of reach. But it would come to him, once he got back, he was sure of it.
Logan quickened his pace, took two steps at a time to get up the stairs and down the long wide corridor to his room. His heart was racing and he was almost out of breath, anticipation making his skin crawl, when he tore open the door to his room – only to find it empty.
He didn't bother to conceal the frustrated sigh, closed the door and went to sit down on the bed. Dejectedly he stared at the large mirror opposite him, the flickering candles on either side emphasising the deep shadows in the room.
When had he lit those?
A shadow rose behind him from the bed.
Arms reached for him, cool fingertips brushed over his heated skin. Mesmerised, he stared as the shadow became clearer in the mirror, pale skin, with a pale dusting of freckles. The broad shoulders, strong neck, still smaller than Logan, leading up to a youthful face, with sinful red lips and eyes so blue they made the sky look pale.
The creature smiled, sharp fangs against soft lips. “Did you miss me?”
Logan's chest felt too tight, he had to struggle for each breath. Briefly an intense pain lanced through his head, then it was like he was suddenly jerked wide awake as forgotten memories settled into place. The sound that escaped his throat was hoarse whisper. “Charles...”
Charles, the vampire he came to kill, drinking his blood, Charles standing in the sunshine, beautiful, he knew he had to leave, this was wrong, but so good, Charles' sad smile, letting him go, lie, lie, his memories taken, I can't let you leave. Logan was trapped by the most beautiful monster he had ever seen, and deep down he knew, if someone put a stake into his hand and placed it over Charles' heart, his hand would tremble and the wood would slip from his weakened grasp.
“What did you do to me?” Logan asked, voice raspy.
“Nothing you don't ask me for, nothing you don't enjoy.” Charles slid closer, pressing his naked body against Logan's back, sliding his arm around him.
Logan took a shuddering breath.
“You were waiting for me, Logan, for it to finally turn night so you could remember and see me.”
Had that been the reason for his restlessness, for his restlessness - every evening. Oh he remembered each one, and each night with Charles that had followed. Logan found he couldn't argue, didn't want to, not when Charles ran his fingers along Logan's neck and down his shoulders.
“Will you allow me to drink from you?”
He asked that every night, sweet and polite, giving Logan a choice. And Logan wondered every night, if Charles would retreat if he told him no. But every night he didn't want to miss the touch of his hands, those blue eyes gazing at him in bliss and fascination as Logan's blood filled his mouth.
Charles needed this, needed him.... Needed him to say - “Yes.”
Charles moved so quickly, the pain of sharp teeth piercing Logan's skin had barely time to register before hot blood pulsed from the wound to be lapped up greedily by Charles. A sigh ghosted across Logan's shoulder and the quickly closing wound. Logan stared mesmerized at the mirror and the blue eyes looking back at him from there as Charles lifted his head for a brief moment, before he sank his teeth into Logan's flesh once more. He tore at it to widen the wound and keep it from closing to soon. The pain made Logan tense, but he couldn't move away. Charles was holding him firmly, keeping on hand gripping Logan's hair so he couldn't jerk free.
Then the pain was washed away in waves of pleasure, as Charles sucked at the wound. He bit down into the tender flesh in-between gulps of blood, to keep Logan from completely healing. But those bites now only registered as a dull throb between the spikes of lust that drove through Logan's body. With a moan he relaxed into Charles' embrace.
Light-headedness settled in, everything seemed to swim together in a blur, yet still he was very aware how Charles' hand started to grow warm. Dazed, he watched in the mirror as Charles lifted his head and licked those red lips now stained with darker blood. Rivulets of it ran down his chin and throat. The sight should have horrified Logan, but instead of being revolted, Charles simply looked beautiful to him.
“Thank you, Logan” Charles dragged his fingers through the blood on Logan's shoulder, then gently tugged on Logan's hair to make him turn his head. “You're most delicious. You have no idea how thrilling your blood tastes like.” Charles smeared blood from his fingers across Logan's mouth then leant in to kiss him.
The metallic taste filled Logan's mouth but quickly became irrelevant as Charles' tongue stroked into his mouth. Logan grabbed on to Charles' hair, trying to keep him right there as he answered the kiss, careless about the sharp incisors scratching his lips and finally piercing his tongue. The pain was nothing, compared to the delightful shiver and small moan it elicited from Charles.
A rough tug and Logan's head got jerked to the side again. Charles bit down, high on Logan's neck this time, working his way down to Logan's shoulder biting, sucking, licking in a frenzy. Logan could feel Charles' blood-lust seeping into his mind and he closed his eyes. He started to grow cold and at the same time a fire burnt through him, dark and deep.
'You can let go. I won't break, you can drain me and it won't kill me.'
'I know, this is why I need you – need to keep you.'
Logan shivered but he wasn't scared. He wanted to feel like this forever.
'Look at you, open your eyes, look. The voice was purring in his mind and though Logan wanted nothing but to sink into it, he slowly opened his eyes.
First he noticed Charles, how could he not look at him first, but slowly his gaze focused on himself in Charles arms. One of Charles' hands toyed with Logan's hair, the other rested loosely across his chest, right over his heart.
'Your heart his beating so fast, pumping your blood through your body, for me.'
“Yes.”
'Only you can share this with me and make give me back a taste of life.'
How had he ever thought there was another reason to live? Nothing had been as fulfilling in his life before as this. His gaze came to rest on his own shoulder, the torn flesh mending, still looking grotesquely the way it was smeared with blood.
Charles leant his head against Logan's, bringing his mouth closer to his ear. His whisper sounded just as intimately as his voice in Logan's head had before. “But not only with your blood. You know there is something else I crave from you.”
Charles hand slowly slid down Logan's chest, fingers took their time to trace the muscles stretching across Logan's stomach, before the fingertips followed the trail of dark hair down from his navel.
Logan held his breath.
“I would like to do this outside in the sunshine one day.”
“What?”
“You really have to ask?” Charles quickly had the strings from Logan's trousers undone and let his hand slip inside, his warm palm pressing against Logan's growing erection. “I would like to sink my teeth into your skin heated by the sun while you fuck me or I fuck you.”
Involuntarily Logan's hips jerked forward at the words and he grunted.
Charles laughed. “It's not like you really didn't know, you simply wanted to hear me say it. But two can play at this game of teasing. And believe me, I'm better at it.”
Excitement sent a lustful shiver through Logan's body.
Charles pushed down the trousers enough to pull Logan's hardening cock out. “Mhm, now where did I put the oil last night?”
“Bottom drawer, right hand side in the nightstand.” Of course Logan remembered now. Along with the expression in Charles' eyes, the warmth there mingling with the need as his blood-smeared lips parted and he moaned Logan's name, while Logan pushed his cock inside him, fucking him slowly, then fast, just as Charles commanded him to.
He remembered Charles' mouth tasting warm and alive as they shared another kiss, exploring deep into his mouth, greedily lapping up the warmth there, just as greedily as Charles sucked his blood.
Now Charles' placed a chaste kiss to the corner of Logan's mouth. “You will keep still for me, won't you.”
“Yes.”
With a satisfied hum, Charles detached himself from Logan for only for a moment but it was enough for agitation starting to make Logan's skin crawl. He turned his head to watch Charles, raking his gaze along Charles' legs, up to his shapely arse that was currently presented to him while Charles rummaged in the drawer. A twitch ran through Logan's arm as the urge grew to reach out for Charles. He wanted to grab Charles' legs and pull him closer, parting those perfect round globes with his hands and bury his face in the cleft to lick him open.
Charles turned towards him. Still with blood smeared across his lips and chin he smiled, terrifying and sweet. He moved back towards Logan, who didn't dare move.
Charles moved close to him without any hurry, a predator entirely sure of its prey. Charles placed a kiss on Logan's still unmarred shoulder. Though to be fair, Logan's other shoulder though still blood smeared, had already healed up.
“We can do this later.” Charles purred between small kisses he spread along Logan's neck.
Of course, most of Logan's thoughts didn't stay private in Charles' presence, yet he didn't care. He wanted him to know everything.
“Sometimes I feel it's almost a pity you heal so quickly.”
“Why?” Logan's voice broke down to a rough whisper as Charles dragged his tongue across Logan's shoulder, cleaning up the blood.
“Because I would love to see you bleed endlessly. Like a lovely fountain.”
“You can bite deeper, it will still heal, but...” But he wanted to please Charles, to see him smile.
Charles pressed his face against Logan's. “If you weren't mine already...” Logan could hear Charles inhale. “I would chase after you across the whole world.”
“No need. I'm here. All yours.”
“Yes, mine.” Charles poured some of the oil onto his hands before he dropped the stoppered vial back onto the bed. He wrapped his hand around Logan's cock, coating it generously in the slick oil. Logan bucked his hips, his hands clenched in the bedsheets, to keep himself from joining his hand to Charles'.
“Now watch yourself. So beautiful, all mine. I'll make sure you'll enjoy this, even if it will hurt.”
“Just do it.”
Still the pain as Charles sank his teeth deeper than before, drove tears to Logan's eyes and for a moment everything went black as Charles' tore his fangs through his throat, ripping it open while his hand kept stroking Logan's hard cock.
The pleasure that followed as Charles sucked at the wound drove an even greater shock through him and Logan opened his eyes wide, his mouth falling open. Blood gushed from the wound at his neck. The warm pulsing mixed with Charles' small breathless laughs he made in-between gulps of Logan's blood.
It all mixed with arousal from Charles stroking him, loosening and tightening his grip rhythmically and letting his thumb run across the sensitive tip now and then. Logan was lost in the sensations. All he could think was how good it felt. “Charles...” The name fell like a prayer from his lips. Charles was all he wanted, nothing could compare to this.
Logan was ready to come, yet Charles kept him right there on the edge. He stopped stroking him as the wound at his neck slowly healed, prodding at the raw edges of the wound with his tongue, tracing along it until it closed – before he tore into the tender flesh again, resuming to pleasure Logan with his hand at the same time.
Sweat trickled down Logan's body, his breathing hitched and he tried to thrust into Charles' hand as he stopped, but he shushed him.
“No, Logan. Keep still, you can take this a little longer. Just a little more! For me.”
“Yes... yes..”Logan groaned, but held still, a tremble running through him, making his thighs quiver.
“This is what you need.”
“Yes, Charles – need you.” Logan didn't try to move his hips, but arched back against Charles' body and his head dropped to the side, ignoring the burning pain, offering up more of his neck. The small moan that escaped Charles went straight to his cock.
Charles' mouth was hot against Logan's skin as he nuzzled along his shoulder and neck. Logan held his breath in anticipation but Charles only sucked gently at his skin, and started stroking his hard cock again, slowly but firmly. He only stopped the motion to rub his thumb across the sensitive head, pressing down lightly against the slit to make Logan moan loudly now.
His lids dropped close and he was drowning in the sensation and pleasure of Charles expertly stroking him, he couldn't keep still anymore,thrusting up his hips in Charles' touch – and just as he was on the edge Charles fangs tore into him once more. The pleasure and pain hit Logan full on and he came, everything turning black for a moment.
When Logan came back to his senses he was lying on his back, Charles was hovering over him, one hand stroking his hair. Logan struggled to lift his arms and grab hold of Charles' neck to pull him down and kiss the warm lips, still stained with blood, that had grown cold and sticky. But he didn't care. He only felt the tongue stroking the inside of his mouth warm and alive. Alive – just as all of Charles was now – through him.
As they parted, Logan kept hold of Charles, caressing his cheek and letting his gaze slowly wander over his face. “You're so beautiful.”
The sweet, surprised smile on Charles' face was all the answer Logan could ask for.
“Sleep now. You need to regain your strength.”
“I don't want to sleep when I can look at you.”
Charles laughed, a sound like warm honeyed milk. “You know the first time I met you, I wouldn't have taken you for being able to sweet-talk like that.”
“Just telling the truth.”
“Mhm. And I don't even have to read your mind to know you mean it.”
“Still, you don't trust me.”
“What makes you say that? “
“You make me forget this, forget you. So I won't leave.”
“I can't let you leave, I just can't give you up.” Charles looked down at Logan, cupping his cheek. For a moment a look of pain crossed his face.
“What if I tell you I won't leave you.”
“You say I'm beautiful, but you still think I'm a monster.”
Logan swallowed. “You are. But so am I since – since I want to stay with you. I want to give you this every night. I want to give you my blood so you can walk in the sun and feel less like a monster.”
Charles' gaze grew distant with a hint of longing. “Because of you I'm actually looking forward to the morning.”
Before Logan could make up his mind what to say, Charles' fingers brushed against his temple. “But sleep now, so you get back your strength and can give me more of your blood so I can meet the morning.”
Logan tried to keep his eyes open and focused on Charles, but when he met his eyes it was as if he was drowning in their clear blue depths and all resistance had dissolved as sleep claimed him.
+
Logan woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside. Grey light of an early morning filtered into the room. Logan still felt tired, wrung out and nevertheless awake. He stretched, pushing back his arms, and startled as he touched something firm behind himself. He squirmed around and saw Charles, resting on the bed behind him, watching him with a smile.
All traces of Logan's blood on his face were washed away. Logan's gaze moved down to Charles naked chest, noting he was only wearing trousers.
“You look recovered.”
“I'm feeling batter.” Logan reached for Charles to pull him in. “Since you're here.” Charles' body was already colder, as were his lips. Still Logan didn't hesitate to kiss him, sucking gently at Charles' lower lip eliciting a soft sigh from Charles.
Charles slid closer to him, wrapping his arms around Logan and entwining their legs. “You and Hank are doing a good job on the grounds. I would like you to plant some night blooming jasmine
for me down at the wall you cleared.”
Logan frowned. “I thought about planting roses there. And you could go and see them in daylight.”
Charles licked his lips. “Maybe...” His hold on Logan tightened for a moment. “We can still decide. Now I want you to show me something else, some place you have been.”
It had taken Logan several nights before he realised that Charles couldn't travel far from his estate. That was, he could, but it would be dangerous and require immense preparations and would leave him too vulnerable to risk it.
But Logan had travelled during his time hunting vampires and had seen many places, the sun shining on a glittering blue sea, the water lapping away at a beach of sand so fine and pale it looked like snow and real snow, covering large mountain-ranges. And big cities, bustling with people, and old ones crammed onto narrow hills, their streets narrow crowded in by towering walls on each side. Charles enjoyed it if he told him about these places. And, more importantly, when he could delve into his mind and see these places through Logan's memories.
“Tell me about Venice.”
Logan grunted. He harboured not very good memories about the place. He had been there after hearing about vampires roaming the city. It had been the middle of the carnival – and his chase across the bridges, through the narrow streets and across big squares had at one point, ended with him in the cold and dirty water of the canal.
Charles chuckled.
“It wasn't funny.” He gritted his teeth. He'd lost part of his weapons due to the unwanted bath. Charles' fingers at his chin made him turn his face towards him.
“Tell me about the carnival costumes the people wore. The town must have looked colourful.”
Colourful, confusing, way too crowded for Logan's taste, but the curious spark in Charles' eyes was all the prompting Logan needed, and he remembered something. “There was one costume I remember, I think it would suit you. It was blue...and had a bit of gold. And feathers. I mean, most of the costumes had feathers, but these were peacock feathers, they looked...”
“You think peacock feathers would suit me? Do you think I'm vain?”
Logan studied Charles' face. He thought of Charles reaction when he called him beautiful. “No. If you were vain you would wear a cape or something equally silly.”
Charles buried his face at Logan's neck stifling his laugh, which sent a delightful shiver along Logan's skin. Still he continued, drinking in Charles' reaction. “There was this feather-pattern on the mask as well. Pretty much everyone wore masks, not that many different shapes but all painted differently.” He was sure Charles was looking through the images in his mind but for some reason that never was enough. The encouraging hum he made, started Logan talking again.
Despite the distraction, Logan didn't miss the moment the sun started to rise. Charles' body grew just that little bit colder still, and there was a certain stiffness to his body. The effect of Logan's blood hadn't lasted through to the morning. Charles would need more, if he was to be able to enjoy the sunlight. A lot more, if he were to dare venture outside and walk through the garden – or even further.
“If you drank all my blood, how far do you think you could go? Past the grounds, down to the forest? The lake even?”
Charles looked at him oddly. “If I drain you completely, it will be painful.”
A little pain wouldn't kill him. “I want you to see more of the world in the sunshine again.”
“Are you sure?” Charles caressed along Logan's neck, cold fingers pressing lovingly against the pulsing vein.
If it meant letting Charles carve out his heart and drink from that the answer would probably be the same. “Yes.”
Charles moved quickly and latched his mouth and teeth onto Logan's neck. The pain was short and the pleasure rose while Charles throat worked to swallow it all down. Charles usually enjoyed to toy with him, the act of drinking as much pleasure to him as the actual blood. But not this time, this time he seemed set on simply draining it all.
The pleasure ebbed as Logan's body started to protest at the rapid bloodless, his organs suffocating, dying slowly. He tried to raise his hand meaning to push Charles off but it was too late – late...
The healing was painful and Logan rolled off the bed. He gasped for breath, deep lungfuls of painful air. His claws slid out of his hand and he hit the wall, before he sank to his knees, panting. Charles wasn't here.
Panic rose like bile in his throat. What if he didn't return, what if Logan's blood hadn’t been enough... ?
Logan pushed himself to his feet. He swayed, barely made it back to the bed. He would sit down, until the dizziness passed, and then...
As Logan opened his eyes again Charles was sitting on the bed beside him. The drapes on the window were drawn, keeping out the sunlight. A wave of relieve hit Logan. He reached out, needing to touch Charles. As he wrapped his fingers around Charles' hand, he found his skin had grown cold again.
“I'm sorry.”
“What for?”
Only now did Logan look up and in the gloom he saw Charles smile. “I went outside. I made it as far as down to the village. No one knew, I just stood there among the people and no one realised ...” Charles' laughed.
Logan hadn't thought about the village. He hadn't realised... Suddenly a cold chill ran through him. It was all he had hoped to give Charles, and yet - What did he do? How could he give Charles that power? He was still a vampire. What if he had decided to attack the people?
It was one thing, deciding to let a vampire feed from him. Another unleashing him on the unsuspecting and innocent.
He should leave, he … he should finish what he came here for. He couldn't let -
Charles bent down, one hand played gently with Logan's hair. “You do know how much I appreciate what you give me, Logan. What you've given me back. You have no idea how much I missed the light. Do you think I could ever drink any other blood after I have tasted yours. You ruined me.”
Logan could hardly breath. 'You ruined me.' It should be his words.
Charles' lips touched his in a chaste kiss. They were cold and still the sensation that lingered when Charles drew back was a prickling warmth. Logan reached up and cupped Charles' face in his hand. He traced his thumb across Charles' nose, noting the freckles there appearing more prominent.
He wasn't ready yet.
“Charles, could you do something for me.”
“Of course, what is it you want?”
“Block my memory of the nights again.”
For a moment Logan was sure Charles would deny his request, at least ask why. But his fingers only brushed against Logan's temple, then he smiled and bent down, pressing his lips against Logan's forehead.
'So be it. Have your peace of mind – until tonight.'
Logan closed his eyes, drifting off and dreaming of a sky so beautifully blue it made his heart ache.
The sun was already high up as Logan rose. He felt dizzy, probably from sleeping too long. But getting out there to work would soon settle this. He gave his reflection in the mirror a content smile, thinking of where Hank and him had stopped working yesterday. They would see if they had enough materials for repairs on that wall and he would talk with him about what to plant there. 'Roses.' Logan thought. 'And night blooming jasmine.'