I don’t know how I got there, but just as quick as you can blink, I found myself standing in the music room, looking around while trying to orient myself. I had the strangest feeling I’d been standing there for a while… so when I shifted my attention to the man seated at the piano, I didn’t think anything of it.
Not until my eyes locked onto him from behind.
I see Victor night in and night out, but this night was different. The room felt different – like the lighting had been dimmed and focused on my maker. It felt like everything had been shifted so that even if I looked away, I’d be forced to look back in his direction, seeing him sitting there, that nonchalant air to him while he played something that had me in a trance.
Staring, fixated, I walked a pace closer on instinct, like my feet had developed a mind of their own. My eyes worked up from his fingers to his arms and shoulders. They settled on his neck. I felt a ripple of desire throttle through me. I fought against my fangs, wondering why the sight of his pale skin, contrasted against his dark hair and dark-colored suit, had me so drunk. It felt like my first night as a vampire, though, when I held onto him and fought the impulse raging through me to bite him. I’d resisted then. It was getting hard for me to resist now.
My feet moved once again. Victor stopped playing. He tilted his head, and I saw him raise an eyebrow as he caught sight of me out of the corner of his eye. I stopped moving as he turned completely. Victor rested his hands on his lap and I continued staring at him like looking away would cost me my life. “Good evening, John,” he said, filling the space left by my blank expression and muteness.
I nodded. “Hey, Victor.” My feet shuffled. I shoved my hands in my pockets, then freed one to point at the piano. “Sorry. I heard you playing and thought I’d stop and take a listen. Still remember what you said about piano lessons, so I’m curious.” Shrugging, I wondered how believable that sounded.
What it should have been was, ‘I want to pull you close to me and feel you against me while I feed on you.’
I blinked the thought away and swallowed hard.
He watched me, curiously studying my reactions like he was trying to crack some sort of code. I’m used to that look from him, but not typically directed at me. I’ve been playing my cards close enough to my chest and yet there he was, his gaze running up and down my body, and I liked it. I shivered when his eyes fell close to my belt and when he stood, I tensed in anticipation. My throat felt dry; my fangs felt like they’d descend at any moment, and then I’d totally screw the pooch. ‘Would rather screw something else.’
I winced visibly at the thought.
Victor raised an eyebrow again.
I don’t know what all I was giving away. My pants might have been bulging, or the scent I might have giving off might have been ripe with sex written all over it, but whatever it was, Victor paused for just a moment. We silently evaluated each other and when his eyes finally met mine, I felt like spilling it all out. ‘I’ve been lusting after you for a while,’ I could almost see myself blurting out, ‘And I thought scratching the itch with Delilah and with these mortal women would finally resolve things, but they haven’t. I’ve been watching you more and more. Wanting to kiss you. Wanting to touch you. And I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.’ It was like he read my mind, though. A slight curl of his lip preceded him closing the distance between us. I knew I was done for then.
His hand touched my chest. I shivered. I felt his fingers slide up my shirt, but didn’t move; didn’t look away. He motioned forward and my eyes shut as his lips touched mine. They motioned softly together until my hand raised and slid between us toward…
My eyes flew open and I sat up in bed, the entire scene changing. Instead of the music room, I saw my bedroom, sans maker or anything else that could be there for the purpose of tempting me. My fingers tangled in my messy hair while I took a deep breath. “Holy… Christ. What the fuck was that?” I asked. My head felt like it might start spinning, my thoughts so disoriented it took standing up for me to realize I was sporting a pretty obvious hard-on, even through my pajama pants. I groaned and said it out loud. “I nearly just had a wet dream about my maker.”
The walk to the shower felt like a walk of shame, with me the only person in on the whole joke. I stripped my pants and tossed them onto a hamper before flicking on the light, not bothering to pause by the mirror for fear of seeing that erection staring back at me. Instead, I turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat, leaning against the wall and taking another steadying breath. The haze of sleep slowly lifted, replaced by that subconscious awareness I have that the sun has set and the life cycle of being a vampire has begun again. Lifting a hand, I rubbed my eyes and tried to think of anything else than the way Victor’s lips felt pressed against mine.
The attempt was a miserable failure.
“I’m going native,” I declared to the empty bathroom. “What happens when you room with three guys, whether or not one of ‘em is stuck in a female body? You start drinking the Kool-Aid, Johnny Boy.” The urge to mutter overwhelmed me, because I knew this was a lie. I knew the way I’d been feeling started way before this and seeing him almost every night was what made it worse and worse. It started with a connection, but bloomed into something like a steady heat. It started with ‘You’re my maker’ and turned into ‘And I l...’
I stopped myself. Sliding the shower curtain aside, I stepped into the bathtub. “This is vampire lust,” I said. “It’s only natural to get the itch as far as your maker’s concerned and hell, I know the others are probably waiting for when it’s gonna happen.” I picked up the bottle of shampoo and held onto it. “I need to go for a hunt and keep fighting this off the way I have been, because I’m not thinking with the brain between my ears.”
Then why did my heart go pitter-patter when he strummed my guitar?
“Damned if I know.”
‘Bullshit.’ I frowned at myself while squirting a healthy amount of shampoo into my hand. I worked it into a lather. ‘Because you felt close to him. You know it, damn it, ‘cause you’ve admitted it before. It felt intimate.’
“Yeah, right, I want to be intimate with another guy.”
‘You want to be with Victor.’
“Ain’t gonna happen.”
‘And why not?’
“Because I…” I stammered. Turning around, I stepped under the stream of water. “Because…” I tried to run through the excuses. Because he’s Dad’s husband. ‘Yeah, and he’s Robin’s lover, too. Flynn’s bonded in case you needed another strike against you. One more and you’re out.’
I narrowed my eyes. “Because this is just my… new vampire instincts.”
‘Is it really? The lust, maybe, but the intimacy? Have you wanted to cuddle with your meals?’
I hissed at the voice of objection, growling and reaching for the soap. I set it in my mind that I’d go out for a hunt. I tried to pretend that didn’t sound lacking. Like reaching for a bottle of Budweiser while craving a British ale.
‘You know you’re just scared, John. Scared you’ll chicken out or that you’ll find yourself half-undressed, not able to go the full way. You’re not confident in yourself.’ I had to sigh as those words ran through my head. That was a hell of a lot closer to the truth than any of the other shit I’d been trying to say to myself and it stung my pride to admit. I had to make sure I was ready before I made any sort of move.
Part of me wished Victor would make the first move for me.
“Ain’t gonna happen,” I said as I finished washing off and rinsed the soap from my body. “He’s so damn self-controlled you could probably dangle a bleeding human in front of his face and he’d still pause for a second before devouring them.” The mental image at least made me grin and as I stepped out of the shower, I dried off slowly, letting the feel of the fabric compensate for the feel of two hands on me I seemed to be lacking. I stopped before it could make me hard again. “Hunting,” I reminded myself before tossing the towel aside and stepping into my bedroom to get dressed.
I had a pair of jeans and a black Henley on before I could stop to think about anything else. Slipping on a pair of socks and my Chuck Taylors rounded out the rest of my outfit. I stuffed my wallet and keys into my pocket as I shut off the lights in my room. Hesitating only once, at the top of the stairs, I started descending them when I failed to hear Victor’s voice. Maybe he was still in bed with Dad and Flynn. Well, I could hope anyway; I had no idea what to say to him at the moment.
This was going to get tricky the longer it carried on. Still, I squared my shoulders and made it to the bottom of the stairs, looking around for any sign of unlife and at least readying myself for a brief how-do-you-do before making my way out. The house was quiet, though. I furrowed my brow and slipped over to the garage door, opening it to see if Victor’s car was still there. “Yup,” I said as I saw its outline. “They must still be in the bedroom.” Quickly, I weighed whether or not I should let him know I was heading out.
In the end, I decided to chance the flack rather than see him lying naked in bed.
I opened the front door quiet as I could manage and slipped outside, pulling the door shut and waiting for the click before glancing around. No neighbors within view; I vamp sped to my car and pressed the button disengaging the locks so I could climb in. I had the car started and the gear shifted within seconds – my Mustang halfway down the street before a minute could elapse. And I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling safe within the confines of my automobile, although that begged the question, safe from what? “Myself,” I murmured as I reached for the iPod connected to my stereo system. Hard rock drowned out the rest of my thoughts until I arrived at my destination.
Parking the car, I plugged a few quarters into the meter and engaged the locks before heading inside a club I’d come across a couple of weeks prior. The bouncer at the door was always easy to glamour and by the time I made it inside, I was already feeling a little less sullen. A cover band played old school Alice in Chains and I headed for the bar, like I always did, to buy a drink I wouldn’t touch. The bartender didn’t ask for my ID. I’d already programmed him a week before to forget to card me. If not for where my mind drifted again, I would’ve been more pleased with myself.
Instead, I saluted the bartender when he set a scotch in front of me and lifted it, pretending to take a drink. It’s one of the quirks I picked up from Victor – I might be a mix-match of the two bloodlines, but I never get a good feeling whenever I think about drinking anything other than blood. I don’t know if it’ll make me sick, but I never chance it. The drink is always a prop so I can weigh my options for the night.
I held it in my hand while sizing up the few women poised at the counter. One talked to a guy who was obviously her boyfriend, so I moved on. Another didn’t do anything for me, and if I was going to scratch an itch, I wanted them to at least be attractive. It was as I shifted my sight down a little further that I stopped and blinked at myself.
A guy – not a girl, but a guy – glanced in my direction and raised an eyebrow at me. My eyes widened. If I had a pulse, it might have started racing as he smirked marginally and pushed away from the bar to walk over to me. I swallowed hard and quickly surveyed myself, shooting a glance down my body before looking up again. What, was I wearing a sign that advertised my dilemma? ‘Fixated on another guy. Come break in the rookie.’
The human man approached, holding a glass that looked similar to mine, both in size and the color of the liquid inside. Brown-haired, he looked a few years older than me, his brown eyes scanning me as though he’d hit the jackpot. “Hey,” he said taking a position next to me, his smirk turning into a grin. “You here by yourself?”
“Sort of,” I said. I cleared my throat. “I mean… Yes. I am. Not here with anyone else, no.” As my words echoed in my ears, I wondered how corny I sounded.
He chuckled and raised his glass to his lips. I watched him take a sip and then, nod. “So am I. That’s why I thought I’d come over.” He lifted his free hand. “The name’s Oliver.”
“Oliver.” I grinned and reached to shake his hand. “I’m John.”
“Good to meet you, John.” Oliver’s grin turned coy as his arm fell to his side. “This is going to sound like a cheesy pick-up line, but do you come here often?”
“Here and there.” I laughed, then raised an eyebrow. “How ‘bout you?”
He shrugged. “Haven’t been here in a while. I travel a lot.” His eyes met mine. “Work and all.”
“Oh yeah?” I raised my glass and took another pretend sip. “What kind of work?”
“Investment banking. I travel to New York City every other week.”
I had to laugh. “That’s epic. I’m from Philly. Well…” I set down my drink and motioned with my hand. “I was raised in Seattle, but lived in Philly for a little while before coming out to San Francisco.”
“The City of Brotherly Love.” The way he smirked gave confirmation that was a double entendre if I’d ever heard one. He chuckled, letting the smile take on a bashful appearance again. “I’d say it’s a shame I hadn’t run into you there, but I get the feeling you’re a little younger than I normally go for.”
My turn to smirk. “Ah, a little younger than you like ‘em?” I raised an eyebrow. “How old do you think I am?”
“Just old enough to pull off not being carded, but whether or not you’re really over twenty-one is a toss-up.” Oliver’s gaze seemed to be challenging me. Like it was saying, ‘Young, but can you play in the big leagues?’
I pursed my lips and nodded, leaning back against the counter. I rested my elbows on the polished wood. “I’ll give you that, you’re good.” The corner of my mouth curled as I lowered my voice. “I’m nineteen.”
He laughed. Tsking, he shook his head and polished off his drink. “John, you’re only a few years north of jail bait.”
“And how old are you?”
“Twenty-six.” He chuckled, deliberately brushing against me as he set his glass down on the bar. He continued leaning close enough for me to smell the faint hint of cologne, for me to study the pale blue, button down shirt and trace my eyes down his neck. I focused on his pulse point, hearing his heart beat, and forced my eyes back to his gaze, which had turned searching. He breathed in deep as though he could scent the same things I smelled. “So young and you’ve already decided what side of the fence you play? Tell me, John, have you even been with another man?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but stopped. The words remained trapped in my mouth – a little white lie I was ready to tell Oliver for the sake of luring him away. I couldn’t, though. The comparison of Budweiser and British ale jumped forward in my thoughts again and I sighed, looking away. “No,” I said. My eyes drifted back to Oliver when I felt his gaze weighing heavy on me. “I normally go for women, to be honest, but I’ve been…” I hesitated.
He raised an eyebrow. I felt his hand touch my arm and didn’t force it away. “You’ve been what, John? Having other impulses?”
“Sort of.” I looked him in the eyes, using them as an anchor to force out the rest of what I wanted to say. “I’ve been living with another guy for a few months now and he’s been… inspiring these thoughts. More and more lately, actually.”
Oliver chuckled. He tilted his head, surveying me. “You’re turned on by him, but I’d wager he doesn’t know this yet.”
“No, he doesn’t.” I drew in a deep breath. “I keep chickening out. I even had a dream about him and slipped out of the house before I had to say hello to him. Headed here to clear my mind, I guess you could say.” I shrugged.
“You came here for a woman, to convince yourself you’re not drifting over to the dark side.” He grinned mischievously.
I laughed. “I’m not exactly defecting to the dark side. My girlfriend does still turn me on.”
“Ah.” Oliver laughed, too. “So, you’re swinging both ways. Kinky. What would your girlfriend say about you tumbling in the sheets with your roommate?”
“Actually…” I grinned broadly. “She’d probably want to join in.”
Bursting into hearty laughter, Oliver had to fight to compose himself. “John,” he managed, lifting his hand from my arm to wipe at a few tears forming in his eyes, “It sounds like you have a win-win situation. Stop questioning it.”
I chuckled, but then paused to think as something nagged at me again. I thought about my fight with myself in the shower and my smile faded. Sighing, I shook my head. “Nah, there’s more to it than that.” My eyes lifted to the band on stage, not to listen, but to settle on some focal point. “I think she’s actually expecting me to give in and want him. It’s a long story, just trust me on that.” I took a deep breath. “I haven’t just wanted him… carnally, though. I’ve been… reacting to little intimate things we’ve been sharing.”
“Ah.” A brief silence settled between us. Oliver leaned on the counter beside me. I heard him take a deep breath, too. “You’re falling in love with him.”
Hearing the words caused me to wince from the whiplash they inflicted. I opened my eyes and tensed. “I… don’t know.”
“John.” I felt the way he looked at me and shifted my eyes to his gaze. He lifted an eyebrow. “Whether or not you’re ready to admit it, let me give you the truth in all its homosexual nakedness. You could walk off with me and we’d have some fun. I can even guarantee you’d enjoy it. You’re bi-curious and these days, a lot of men and women are. Especially ones your age.” Oliver smiled softly. “But even if we spent all night fucking, you’d go back home and still want your roommate, maybe worse than you did before.”
I felt vulnerable. My facial expression turned confused; troubled. “Yeah?”
He nodded. “Yes.” His hand drifted to my wrist, massaging it. Oliver glanced down at his fingers, then back up. “How does that feel?”
I shrugged. “I don’t mind it.”
“What’s your roommate’s name?”
“Victor.”
Oliver grinned. “Close your eyes. Imagine I’m Victor. I won’t do anything inappropriate out in public, I promise. Just shut your eyes and pretend.”
I nodded. Slowly, my eyes shut, and this time I felt the strong fingers kneading my skin, working up to my forearm and caressing me through my shirt. I inhaled sharply, picturing my dark-haired maker, his hand drifting northward. The stirring running through me provoked a gasp. Oliver chuckled, but continued. I felt his breath hit my neck first, before he whispered in my ear, “Now, how does that feel?”
“Oh God,” was all I could manage. My lids shot open and I eyed Oliver like a deer caught in the headlights.
He grinned and stepped away from me. His eyes issued a dare and I didn’t need the instruction to be spoken – hell, I didn’t need to read his thoughts – to know what he wanted. I pushed off the bar and followed him, ignoring the crowd we worked through to muscle our way to the back of the club. Oliver motioned with his hand for me to follow him and both of us swung a right down a hallway, walking past the bathrooms and to a storage area in the back. I followed him inside and blinked. “What’re we doing here?” I asked.
Oliver grinned. I knew he didn’t realize it, but I saw him clear as day in the darkness. “Some place a little more private if we’re going to continue playing gay therapy,” he said.
“Oh.” I furrowed my brow. “Gay therapy?”
“Yes, I’m doing you a little bit of a favor here.” He chuckled. “Well, alright, it’s giving me a little something in return, too, but I remember being young and conflicted, so don’t think it’s all selfish either.” As he tilted his chin, I realized for the first time he stood at about Victor’s height. Maybe an inch shorter, nothing more. He stepped closer to me. “You closed your eyes and thought of Victor and I swear from my point of view, I saw some heavy attraction buried there.”
I coughed and shifted my weight from one foot to the other. My hands slid in my pockets. “Just a little.”
“If we’re measuring little in Texas terms, John.” He chuckled. Oliver stepped a few paces closer and stopped. “You said you dreamed about him. What did you dream about?”
I swallowed hard. Oliver stared at me and I forced myself to look back, using his gaze as an anchor again. “He’s… a musician. One of the rooms in our house, it’s a music room, where he has a piano. I play the guitar.” Pausing, I smiled wanly. “But I’ve been prodding him to teach me the piano. And I was watching him play, getting sort of… fixated on watching him.”
Oliver chuckled. “Sigmund Freud would have had a field day with you, John.” He pointed a hand in my direction. “Please continue.”
Nodding, I leaned my back against the wall and folded my arms across my chest. “So, I found myself staring at him and he finally turned around and noticed me. And when he did, he saw the look in my eyes and stood. I watched him walk over to me and his hand… rested on my chest. Kind of… slid upward.” I blinked. “Then we kissed. And I reached for him. And then, I startled myself awake.”
My eyes shifted to Oliver. He smirked. “How did it feel when he kissed you?”
I huffed a chuckle. “Pretty fucking good actually.” I freed one hand to run through my hair.
Oliver nodded. He closed the distance between us and touched the wall, leaning against it. I turned my head to look at him, both arms dropping to my sides. The smirk was gone, replaced by a serious expression on his face. “You need to learn how to let go, John. Pretend I’m Victor, standing here, right where you can have me. I’m willing, but I’m not making the first move. I’m waiting for you.”
My eyes widened. “How did you… know?”
He grinned. “Victor’s older than you. Am I right?”
I nodded slowly, letting that suffice for my answer.
He did, too. His free hand came to rest on his waist. “If he was straight, then you wouldn’t be fishing. You’re having a hard enough time working up to this knowing he probably wouldn’t push you away.”
I sighed, surprised at how shaky my breath came out. “He plays both sides.”
Oliver chuckled. “Damn, I’ve landed on the hottest bed of bisexual men in San Francisco.” His expression sobered. He raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m waiting, John. I’m minding my P’s and Q’s because I’m thinking…” He shrugged. “… You have a girlfriend. Kinky or not, her being up for anything doesn’t mean you are. You need to give me a sign.”
“What…” I cleared my throat when my voice came out sounding frail. “What kind of sign?”
He smirked. “I’ve been reading your body language, but you’re confused. Sometimes it reads, ‘Open for Business’ and other times it says, ‘Closed. Please Come Again.’” Oliver drifted closer. “So, I keep my hands off. I need something more direct from you.”
“How direct?” My unneeded breaths turned shallow.
Oliver pressed against me. “Kiss me. Like you would if Victor was looking at you like this.”
We stared at each other, me feeling my throat go dry again the longer we held the gaze. I let my eyes stray to his lips, avoiding looking at his neck for fear my fangs would descend if I did. ‘You might have my dilemma spot on, but I seriously doubt you know I’m a vampire.’ I drew a deep breath inward, capturing a whiff of Oliver’s lust, and shivered as I thought of that scent emanating from Victor.
‘Need to try it once. If I can do this, then maybe I can work up the nerve to do it to Victor.’
Bending slightly, I shut my eyes and let my lips lightly touch Oliver’s.
I heard him inhale sharply. The hand on his waist came to rest on my hip and his lips motioned underneath mine, coaxing me to deepen the kiss. I followed his direction, seeing the dream – the kiss shared between me and Victor – and taking hold of Oliver like I’d wanted to do to Victor. His arms slid around me as his back pressed against the wall. Our bodies touched as he pulled away for breath, but then the kiss continued and a rush of need raced through me.
Oliver gripped onto me tightly. I kissed him for all I was worth, taking out only a small sliver of my sexual frustration on him. It was enough to make him moan, though, and when he did, I forced our lips apart and kept my eyes closed, hesitating for a whole other reason this time.
“What is it, John?” he asked.
I paused, trying to steady myself. “I can’t do this, Oliver.”
“Why not?”
My breath turned shaky. “Because you’re not the first man I want to be with. If I let myself get carried away, I want it to be Victor on top of me.” I blinked several times. “Damn, I still don’t even know if I would chicken out at the moment of truth.”
Oliver chuckled. His eyes opened. “There are other ways to get off. If you’re not ready yet to take out the lube and let Victor inside you, you can always just explore.” He reached for one of my hands, raising an eyebrow as he stared at me in a deliberate sort of way. “If this makes you uncomfortable, let me know. But remember, this is practice. I’m Victor.”
I nodded slowly. He directed my hand toward his crotch and pressed my fingers against the hard bulge present. I groaned as I felt it. Shutting my eyes, I imagined Victor standing in front of me again, his cock hard and me stroking him through his pants. My own dick stood at attention just from the thought of it. “John,” Oliver said, speaking my name in a breathy whisper.
I swallowed hard as I imagined Victor saying my name in the same manner. My eyelids opened and I watched Oliver react while stroking him, studying him and becoming more and more turned on by the sight. His body sank against the wall and his hips rocked, seeking friction the same way I normally did when I ground against Delilah. I shivered when I pictured Victor doing the same thing. “Oh God, John, don’t stop,” Oliver murmured.
My fangs ached. I fought their downward descent, keeping them tucked away by sheer force of will. I wouldn’t be able to get away with it for long, though. “Oliver,” I said. “Open your eyes.”
He forced his eyes open, but I could tell it was an effort on his part. I watched his irises dance with desire and smirked, realizing this part wasn’t half bad. My palm pressed harder against his cock and his eyes rolled back before focusing on me again. Small tendrils of my influence passed between us, me looking at him as only a vampire could. “I’m going to bite you, but you’re going to enjoy it. Don’t worry, I’ll only take a little blood from you. Got it so far?”
Oliver nodded his head, his eyes never leaving mine. I grinned and continued. “You’re not going to remember me biting you. You’ll just look in the mirror and think I got a little kinky with you while I got you off and nipped at you. You’re not gonna remember my fangs, but you can remember the rest. I…” I hesitated. “I want you to say my name when you cum, though.”
“John,” he whispered, as though reminding himself what my name was through the thrall of glamour.
I chuckled and nodded. “You got it. Now…” My fangs slid down. I licked them, finally letting myself look down the collar of his shirt to his neck. The hand not stroking him raised to undo the first few buttons of his shirt. I brushed my thumb across his pulse point. “… Just sit back and enjoy this. It’s gonna be the best fucking orgasm you’ve had without being fucked directly.” Leaning close, I kissed the area I had just stroked with my thumb. The hand on his cock increased the tempo, becoming more insistent. Oliver grabbed handfuls of my shirt, his fingers digging into my back and I licked his skin before finally biting.
Oliver moaned loudly. In the back of my mind, I worried about somebody interrupting, but when I failed to hear any footsteps, I pursed my lips around the wound and began drinking. Mouthfuls of warm blood slid down my throat and my eyes shut, the groan I issued involuntary as I drank. My cock jumped and I could feel myself dangling close to the edge, especially as the flavor of lust began saturating his blood. I grunted and heard him say, “John!” as I licked his wounds closed.
His scent dripping sex, I couldn’t stop myself from releasing. He continued clutching onto me and I moaned, my fangs retracting while my dick pulsed with cum shooting from the tip. My free hand pressed against the wall while I continued stroking Oliver. When he groaned one final time, I let go. We both stayed in the same spot, frozen for a while.
Until I heard him chuckle.
My eyes opened. Oliver’s arms fell to his side, his head pressing against the wall. “Ah fuck.” He smirked, looking at me, this time not lost in my glamour. I raised an eyebrow as he inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled. “Almost wish I could teach you oral sex if your hand’s that talented, but I’ll save that for if you need another therapy session.”
I chuckled. Pushing from the wall, I backed up several paces, looking myself over to make sure I hadn’t made a mess of myself. “Baby steps. I haven’t worked my way up to intercourse, let alone blow jobs.”
“So noted. And I don’t want Victor to think I’m stealing his man away.” He winked when I looked up at him, then his grin turned sly. “Hey, John. You know what this means, right?”
Furrowing my brow, I shook my head. Oliver stood straight, brushing off his shirt and buttoning the top buttons again. “You just got off from making another man cum,” he said.
I laughed nervously. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
Oliver laughed as I scratched the back of my neck. He closed the few paces separating us and lifted a hand to pat my shoulder before lowering it again. “You’re not thinking this through, padawan. If Victor doesn’t mind playing bottom, you’d pretty much make it to home base. And not all of us queers are territorial about having the top.”
Bursting into laughter, I let my smile turned more wicked. “I am so never calling Victor a queer.”
He laughed. Oliver shook his head. “No, rookie, that’s like calling a black person the N word. You have to be one for it to stop being derogatory.” He waggled a finger at me. “And you’re at least a few fucks away from being part of the club.”
I saluted. “Gotcha, boss.”
Oliver chuckled. He pointed toward the doorway. “I’m going to go have a drink to celebrate a good almost-fuck. Want me to save your underage ass from getting carded?”
“No thanks.” I grinned, giving myself one final adjustment before following Oliver back to the hallway. “I think I’m going to head home, actually. Face the sexual tension like a man.”
“That’s the spirit.” He nodded as we neared the end of the hallway, then stopped, turning to face me. The soft smile found its way onto his face again. “You don’t have to be scared to fall in love with another man, John. I know it’s still not the societal norm the rest of us wish it could be, but you’re alive in the right place and time to express yourself.” He reached forward and patted my cheek. I watched him turn and motioned to respond when he cut me off by adding, “I felt that kiss. If Victor’s pining after you half as much as he should be… I bet he’d like to feel it, too.”
I remained standing in place while Oliver disappeared out in the crowd again. Once he drifted away from my sight, I leaned against the wall and rubbed my eyes, trying to let the entire experience catch up to me. My mind spun again, this time with added experiences and added ammunition for my internal battle. I’d already jumped one hurdle. I just had to kiss Victor and hope he knew the way I felt without me having to say it first.
The thought caused me to frown a little. “I’m still apprehensive,” I muttered. “One thing to be bold with a complete stranger. Another thing to realize you’re taking a step with the real thing. Shit.” Raising a hand to scratch my head, I let it plop to my side and trudged to my car, still not knowing what I’d do when I got home, still not knowing when or how I should make a move. If I should at all. I arrived home still feeling confused and closed the front door, seeing my Dad standing in the kitchen, distracted and not hearing me enter.
‘I’m sneaking back into my room, then.’ I turned for the stairs and began to ascend them.
The sound of glass shattering stopped me from taking the next step. My hand on the banister, I pivoted, realizing from where the noise came. I heard the sound of gasping and my father coughing several times, two noises I wasn’t used to hearing from a vampire, especially not the way I heard it from him. “Dad?!” I said, my eyes widening.
Jumping down from the landing, I vamp sped into the kitchen, to see what in God’s name was going on with my father.
To be continued…
