chapter 8 (the Talk)
Nov. 18th, 2002 10:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smackenzieSam slept through his alarm clock the next morning but still managed not to oversleep that much. He was momentarily confused as to why there was someone practically lying on top of him in his bed, and why was he naked, why were both of them naked, and Oh, right, and then Oh, shit.
He remembered the lube. He remembered the fingers. He didn't think he'd ever forget the prick.
He didn't remember the condom.
And he knew he had one - the one he'd found in Aurelian's car that night, the one from the sex shop that he was considering leaving on Bruce's desk to confused the hell out of him - he knew he'd taken it out of his coat pocket and stuck it in the drawer in the nightstand, with the dead batteries and the half pack of Halls honey lemon cough drops and the travel pack of kleenex and the spare key to something and that book Teddy loaned him that he kept forgetting to return.
He knew he had one. He was pretty sure it was still there in the drawer, possibly stuck to a Halls or wedged inside the pack of kleenex.
Shit. Shitshitshit. How stupid could he have been? He hadn't been that tired, and yeah, he had been in kind of a hurry, he had wanted Aurelian inside him now, but Jesus, that was no excuse.
He was a moron.
They were both morons.
Sam had a sudden overwhelming urge to roll over, shove Aurelian off the edge of the bed, and make him leave.
Otherwise he would have thought the entire thing was a dream. He never would have imagined that someone like that would be so interested in him, and not only that, that someone like that (anyone, actually) would have brought him a copy of The Voice of Venus, would have sat with him and listened to both sides of it in near-complete silence, would have woken him out of bed at three in the morning, would have come to his apartment in the pouuring rain, risking flu and pneumonia and who knew what the hell else - because they couldn't wait, they had to give it to him NOW.
And then... and then....
Sam groaned and buried his face in his pillow. He wanted to put it over his head and hide in it, but it was a little hard to move with Aurelian's arm across his shoulders and Aurelian's breath on his neck.
Um. Aurelian wasn't breathing. Fuck.
Sam wriggled out from underneath him (and shit, it was cold in his room when you didn't have any clothes on), hoping that might wake him up, and it did. Or he was already awake, Sam wasn't sure.
"Hey!" Sam exclaimed. "What the fuck! Dude, you're not breathing!"
"I know," Aurelian said. He sounded tired and very much not surprised. Sam boggled.
(Well, boggled as much as he could standing barefoot and bare-assed on his bedroom floor, which was hardwood and pretty fucking cold on wet March mornings. His mom had bought him a little area rug but it was on the other side of the bed. Of course.)
"You know? What the fuck!" He knew he was repeating himself but he was too wigged to care. First the bareback thing (and the hell if he was telling ANYONE about that, even - or especially - Spencer - she'd have his head. Both his heads, since it was the little one that had gotten him in this mess to begin with) and now Aurelian had no breath and that didn't worry him?
"Sam, you're starting to panic. Please, sit." Aurelian had sat up by now and patted the bed. Sam kind of wished he hadn't done that - he was so good-looking it was distracting. At least the blankets were still covering his lap. "I have something to tell you that I should have told you sooner."
"You know we didn't use protection last night?" Maybe if he changed tacks something would make sense.
"Yes. That is part of what I should have told you. Please, Sam, sit down."
"How about I get dressed first? 'Cause I'm kinda cold. And I'm late for work."
"Work will wait." Aurelian fished around under the covers, then leaned over the side of the bed, then looked under the pillow, and finally unearthed the long-sleeve t-shirt and pajama bottoms Sam normally slept it. He held them out. Sam took them and pulled them on.
Ok, clothed now, that was better. He at least felt a little more normal in himself. Aurelian was a whole other story.
What had he gotten himself into? He had a feeling it was about to get a whole lot more complicated than just two guys who liked each other (or could possibly be in love with each other) finally sleeping together without a condom. Aurelian had that kind of look on his face.
"I think I'll just stand over here," Sam said. "Because I'm kind of afraid that... um... a naked you is a little distracting. Do you mind?" He waved vaguely at Aurelian's nakedness. Aurelian shrugged and pulled the blankets around himself.
"I should have told you this the first night," Aurelian started. "I couldn't. I didn't want to lose you."
"Just... what! Tell me already! I'm cold and I gotta go to work and yeah, I'm gonna wig in a minute. And I'm not even gonna get started on the lack of condom thing."
"Listen to me, Sam. I am not like other men. Not like most men, anyway."
"Bet you say that to all the boys."
"This is not easy for me, ok? Stop fidgeting."
"Sorry." Sam hadn't even realized he was fidgeting. Maybe he should sit on the bed after all, or at least sit on the floor. It was hard for him to stand still without something to do or something to hold on to.
Aurelian seemed to take a deep breath, but again, not breathing. "I am a vampire," he said.
Sam burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. That was the big secret?
"You're fucking kidding me!" he cackled. "You are not."
"I am. Do you want proof?"
"Hell, yeah, I want proof." Sam grinned. "I got some garlic salt in the kitchen. No holy water, though."
"Garlic salt will not hurt me. At most it might tingle a bit on my skin."
"I don't have any crucifixes, but I could... open the curtains!" Sam grabbed the pull cord of the shade behind his bed, and dragged the shade open. It was cloudy outside, no sun anywhere. His face fell. "Or not."
"Come here," Aurelian said, beckoning. Sam raised an eyebrow.
"What, you're gonna bite me?"
"Not unless you want me to."
(And oh, damn, that made Sam's cock twitch. Who would've thought?)
"I don't," he said, hoping Aurelian hadn't seen anything, and if he had, that he'd just assumed it was morning wood.
"At least come close enough to give me your hand."
Sam edged close to the bed, then said "Hey!" as Aurelian grabbed his hand and pressed it to his chest.
"Do you feel that?" he asked.
"Feel what?" was Sam's answer. "You're kinda cold."
"My skin is always kind of cold, unless I have recently fed. Do you feel a heartbeat?"
Sam blinked. He didn't. He put his other hand against his own heart under his t-shirt, and then slapped his palm against the side of his neck, feeling for his pulse. He had a pulse. Aurelian didn't.
"Dude," Sam said, not sure what to think. "You don't have a heartbeat." Part of him was completely grossed out and wanted to pull his hand away, and part of him thought this was really fucking cool.
"I'm dead."
Ok, that was weird. Sam jerked his hand back, off Aurelian's chest, and stepped back a couple of steps, and just looked at him. He looked the same as he had last night, except naked and dry. He didn't look dead.
"You don't look dead."
"Look closer." Sam did, leaning in towards the bed but not actually moving any closer to it.
"Well, you are kinda pale...." Aurelian grinned then, a wide open-mouthed grin, and - "Holy fuck, you have fangs." Sharp ones. Very sharp ones. Sam had only ever seen canines like than on... well, on canines. It was more than a little creepy seeing someone grin at him with pointy, sharp, wolfish teeth.
"I do. Do you need more?"
"I'm not sure. This is kind of weird enough." Definitely required more thought than whether or not they'd had safe sex. "Wait. It doesn't matter that we didn't use the condom, does it. I can't get anything from you. Vamps don't get sick."
"No, we don't. Occasionally we go mad, but you cannot catch a disease from us, nor can we catch any disease from you. Last night was probably the safest fuck you've ever had." Now he grinned, although to Sam it looked more like a smirk.
"Ok, ok. I don't know if I believe this. I mean, vampires aren't real. They're, like, monster movie villains. Woe-is-me guys with lace cuffs in crappy goth novels. I saw Interview with the Vampire. Tom Cruise sucked." Aurelian was watching him impassively and for some reason that made Sam nervous. "You're supposed to sleep in a coffin, and you don't eat food or drink beer or... or... or go to jazz clubs and talk to musicians."
"And yet I do all those things."
"How old are you? Really?" Maybe it was true, or at least there was a grain of truth in it. Sam had thought Aurelian seemed a lot older than he said he was.
"I really was twenty-four when I was turned."
"Which was when?"
"Please stop backing away from me like that." Now Aurelian looked (and sounded) hurt. "I will not hurt you, Sam. I swear it." Sam hadn't even realized he'd been inching away from the bed, but now he stopped.
"Ok, ok, but you started it. When were you... uh... made into a vampire? Sired? Whatever you call it."
"I was turned in 1812."
Oh holy shit. Sam sat down hard on the floor. 1812. He was older than a big chunk of the damn country. In 1812 half of Sam's ancestors were still on the British Isles. His grandma Nina's ancestors were in Norway. He wasn't even a dot in someone's far-seeing imagination.
"Fuck me," he breathed, awestruck and a little wigged.
"The Volvo you rode in, the one you said I loved because it was so well taken-care-of - I bought it new in 1971. I paid half the sticker price in cash right there and drove it off the showroom floor. The last car I'd owned was a Fiat, when I lived in Rome in the 50's. I sold it when I moved to Paris."
"Fuck," Sam said again. He was sure he was dreaming now. The sex part and his dad's record were just red herrings, to lull him into a false sense of normality. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real. There was just no fucking way this was really happening.
Aurelian didn't look anything like any vampire pictures Sam had ever seen, not from TV and not from the movies and not from anyone's drawings and just... not. Well, except for the fangs. He dressed older than his age - suspenders? - but aside from the general paleness, and really, anyone could be pale, he looked like a normal guy.
(He didn't fuck like a normal guy, but ok, how many guys had Sam fucked? Exactly. So even that could be normal, for what it was.)
And now that Sam thought about it, there were those kisses, and he'd been the one to break them off first, hadn't he? He'd run out of air. And the blow job - thinking about it made him start to get hard again, dammit - Aurelian hadn't come up for air once, not even after Sam yelled his fool head off and came down his throat.
"Fuck me," he said for the third time. He looked up at Aurelian, who hadn't moved from his position in the middle of the bed and was now just watching him. "You're serious. And I'm not dreaming." Aurelian shook his head. "Jesus Christ on a pogo stick."
He'd slept with a dead guy. He'd kissed him and touched him and licked his skin and dug hands in his hair and... and... and had sex with him.
And might conceivably be in love with him.
Aurelian had brought him The Voice of Venus and had kissed him sitting there on the floor, had listened to both sides of the record, had sat with him while he lost himself thinking about his dad, had taken his hand and led him into his own bedroom, his own bed, and....
And Sam had thanked him, and Sam had wanted him.
Sam still wanted him now, even knowing what he knew, even starting to believe it.
He was right. It had gotten a whole lot more complicated.
And Oh, fuck didn't even begin to cover it.
words: 2,203
total words: 41,959
He remembered the lube. He remembered the fingers. He didn't think he'd ever forget the prick.
He didn't remember the condom.
And he knew he had one - the one he'd found in Aurelian's car that night, the one from the sex shop that he was considering leaving on Bruce's desk to confused the hell out of him - he knew he'd taken it out of his coat pocket and stuck it in the drawer in the nightstand, with the dead batteries and the half pack of Halls honey lemon cough drops and the travel pack of kleenex and the spare key to something and that book Teddy loaned him that he kept forgetting to return.
He knew he had one. He was pretty sure it was still there in the drawer, possibly stuck to a Halls or wedged inside the pack of kleenex.
Shit. Shitshitshit. How stupid could he have been? He hadn't been that tired, and yeah, he had been in kind of a hurry, he had wanted Aurelian inside him now, but Jesus, that was no excuse.
He was a moron.
They were both morons.
Sam had a sudden overwhelming urge to roll over, shove Aurelian off the edge of the bed, and make him leave.
Otherwise he would have thought the entire thing was a dream. He never would have imagined that someone like that would be so interested in him, and not only that, that someone like that (anyone, actually) would have brought him a copy of The Voice of Venus, would have sat with him and listened to both sides of it in near-complete silence, would have woken him out of bed at three in the morning, would have come to his apartment in the pouuring rain, risking flu and pneumonia and who knew what the hell else - because they couldn't wait, they had to give it to him NOW.
And then... and then....
Sam groaned and buried his face in his pillow. He wanted to put it over his head and hide in it, but it was a little hard to move with Aurelian's arm across his shoulders and Aurelian's breath on his neck.
Um. Aurelian wasn't breathing. Fuck.
Sam wriggled out from underneath him (and shit, it was cold in his room when you didn't have any clothes on), hoping that might wake him up, and it did. Or he was already awake, Sam wasn't sure.
"Hey!" Sam exclaimed. "What the fuck! Dude, you're not breathing!"
"I know," Aurelian said. He sounded tired and very much not surprised. Sam boggled.
(Well, boggled as much as he could standing barefoot and bare-assed on his bedroom floor, which was hardwood and pretty fucking cold on wet March mornings. His mom had bought him a little area rug but it was on the other side of the bed. Of course.)
"You know? What the fuck!" He knew he was repeating himself but he was too wigged to care. First the bareback thing (and the hell if he was telling ANYONE about that, even - or especially - Spencer - she'd have his head. Both his heads, since it was the little one that had gotten him in this mess to begin with) and now Aurelian had no breath and that didn't worry him?
"Sam, you're starting to panic. Please, sit." Aurelian had sat up by now and patted the bed. Sam kind of wished he hadn't done that - he was so good-looking it was distracting. At least the blankets were still covering his lap. "I have something to tell you that I should have told you sooner."
"You know we didn't use protection last night?" Maybe if he changed tacks something would make sense.
"Yes. That is part of what I should have told you. Please, Sam, sit down."
"How about I get dressed first? 'Cause I'm kinda cold. And I'm late for work."
"Work will wait." Aurelian fished around under the covers, then leaned over the side of the bed, then looked under the pillow, and finally unearthed the long-sleeve t-shirt and pajama bottoms Sam normally slept it. He held them out. Sam took them and pulled them on.
Ok, clothed now, that was better. He at least felt a little more normal in himself. Aurelian was a whole other story.
What had he gotten himself into? He had a feeling it was about to get a whole lot more complicated than just two guys who liked each other (or could possibly be in love with each other) finally sleeping together without a condom. Aurelian had that kind of look on his face.
"I think I'll just stand over here," Sam said. "Because I'm kind of afraid that... um... a naked you is a little distracting. Do you mind?" He waved vaguely at Aurelian's nakedness. Aurelian shrugged and pulled the blankets around himself.
"I should have told you this the first night," Aurelian started. "I couldn't. I didn't want to lose you."
"Just... what! Tell me already! I'm cold and I gotta go to work and yeah, I'm gonna wig in a minute. And I'm not even gonna get started on the lack of condom thing."
"Listen to me, Sam. I am not like other men. Not like most men, anyway."
"Bet you say that to all the boys."
"This is not easy for me, ok? Stop fidgeting."
"Sorry." Sam hadn't even realized he was fidgeting. Maybe he should sit on the bed after all, or at least sit on the floor. It was hard for him to stand still without something to do or something to hold on to.
Aurelian seemed to take a deep breath, but again, not breathing. "I am a vampire," he said.
Sam burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. That was the big secret?
"You're fucking kidding me!" he cackled. "You are not."
"I am. Do you want proof?"
"Hell, yeah, I want proof." Sam grinned. "I got some garlic salt in the kitchen. No holy water, though."
"Garlic salt will not hurt me. At most it might tingle a bit on my skin."
"I don't have any crucifixes, but I could... open the curtains!" Sam grabbed the pull cord of the shade behind his bed, and dragged the shade open. It was cloudy outside, no sun anywhere. His face fell. "Or not."
"Come here," Aurelian said, beckoning. Sam raised an eyebrow.
"What, you're gonna bite me?"
"Not unless you want me to."
(And oh, damn, that made Sam's cock twitch. Who would've thought?)
"I don't," he said, hoping Aurelian hadn't seen anything, and if he had, that he'd just assumed it was morning wood.
"At least come close enough to give me your hand."
Sam edged close to the bed, then said "Hey!" as Aurelian grabbed his hand and pressed it to his chest.
"Do you feel that?" he asked.
"Feel what?" was Sam's answer. "You're kinda cold."
"My skin is always kind of cold, unless I have recently fed. Do you feel a heartbeat?"
Sam blinked. He didn't. He put his other hand against his own heart under his t-shirt, and then slapped his palm against the side of his neck, feeling for his pulse. He had a pulse. Aurelian didn't.
"Dude," Sam said, not sure what to think. "You don't have a heartbeat." Part of him was completely grossed out and wanted to pull his hand away, and part of him thought this was really fucking cool.
"I'm dead."
Ok, that was weird. Sam jerked his hand back, off Aurelian's chest, and stepped back a couple of steps, and just looked at him. He looked the same as he had last night, except naked and dry. He didn't look dead.
"You don't look dead."
"Look closer." Sam did, leaning in towards the bed but not actually moving any closer to it.
"Well, you are kinda pale...." Aurelian grinned then, a wide open-mouthed grin, and - "Holy fuck, you have fangs." Sharp ones. Very sharp ones. Sam had only ever seen canines like than on... well, on canines. It was more than a little creepy seeing someone grin at him with pointy, sharp, wolfish teeth.
"I do. Do you need more?"
"I'm not sure. This is kind of weird enough." Definitely required more thought than whether or not they'd had safe sex. "Wait. It doesn't matter that we didn't use the condom, does it. I can't get anything from you. Vamps don't get sick."
"No, we don't. Occasionally we go mad, but you cannot catch a disease from us, nor can we catch any disease from you. Last night was probably the safest fuck you've ever had." Now he grinned, although to Sam it looked more like a smirk.
"Ok, ok. I don't know if I believe this. I mean, vampires aren't real. They're, like, monster movie villains. Woe-is-me guys with lace cuffs in crappy goth novels. I saw Interview with the Vampire. Tom Cruise sucked." Aurelian was watching him impassively and for some reason that made Sam nervous. "You're supposed to sleep in a coffin, and you don't eat food or drink beer or... or... or go to jazz clubs and talk to musicians."
"And yet I do all those things."
"How old are you? Really?" Maybe it was true, or at least there was a grain of truth in it. Sam had thought Aurelian seemed a lot older than he said he was.
"I really was twenty-four when I was turned."
"Which was when?"
"Please stop backing away from me like that." Now Aurelian looked (and sounded) hurt. "I will not hurt you, Sam. I swear it." Sam hadn't even realized he'd been inching away from the bed, but now he stopped.
"Ok, ok, but you started it. When were you... uh... made into a vampire? Sired? Whatever you call it."
"I was turned in 1812."
Oh holy shit. Sam sat down hard on the floor. 1812. He was older than a big chunk of the damn country. In 1812 half of Sam's ancestors were still on the British Isles. His grandma Nina's ancestors were in Norway. He wasn't even a dot in someone's far-seeing imagination.
"Fuck me," he breathed, awestruck and a little wigged.
"The Volvo you rode in, the one you said I loved because it was so well taken-care-of - I bought it new in 1971. I paid half the sticker price in cash right there and drove it off the showroom floor. The last car I'd owned was a Fiat, when I lived in Rome in the 50's. I sold it when I moved to Paris."
"Fuck," Sam said again. He was sure he was dreaming now. The sex part and his dad's record were just red herrings, to lull him into a false sense of normality. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real. There was just no fucking way this was really happening.
Aurelian didn't look anything like any vampire pictures Sam had ever seen, not from TV and not from the movies and not from anyone's drawings and just... not. Well, except for the fangs. He dressed older than his age - suspenders? - but aside from the general paleness, and really, anyone could be pale, he looked like a normal guy.
(He didn't fuck like a normal guy, but ok, how many guys had Sam fucked? Exactly. So even that could be normal, for what it was.)
And now that Sam thought about it, there were those kisses, and he'd been the one to break them off first, hadn't he? He'd run out of air. And the blow job - thinking about it made him start to get hard again, dammit - Aurelian hadn't come up for air once, not even after Sam yelled his fool head off and came down his throat.
"Fuck me," he said for the third time. He looked up at Aurelian, who hadn't moved from his position in the middle of the bed and was now just watching him. "You're serious. And I'm not dreaming." Aurelian shook his head. "Jesus Christ on a pogo stick."
He'd slept with a dead guy. He'd kissed him and touched him and licked his skin and dug hands in his hair and... and... and had sex with him.
And might conceivably be in love with him.
Aurelian had brought him The Voice of Venus and had kissed him sitting there on the floor, had listened to both sides of the record, had sat with him while he lost himself thinking about his dad, had taken his hand and led him into his own bedroom, his own bed, and....
And Sam had thanked him, and Sam had wanted him.
Sam still wanted him now, even knowing what he knew, even starting to believe it.
He was right. It had gotten a whole lot more complicated.
And Oh, fuck didn't even begin to cover it.
words: 2,203
total words: 41,959
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2002-11-18 08:14 pm (UTC)Excellent. All of the little details just make the story amazing. You are unbelievably talented.
no subject
Date: 2002-11-18 08:25 pm (UTC)Oh and great smut in the last part. Yum.
Lovely reactions from Sam. Well done, hon!
no subject
Date: 2002-11-19 02:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-11-19 04:36 am (UTC)Sam-panic and Aurelian making it real with the details ... beautifully done.
no subject
Date: 2002-11-19 05:05 am (UTC)This cracked me up for some bizarre reason. I kept imagining Aurelian just thinking 'well, duh'.
Loved it.
no subject
Date: 2002-11-19 06:16 am (UTC)no subject
classic :D
-Jola
no subject
Date: 2002-11-19 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-20 05:41 pm (UTC)