Pete didn't remember anything about that night. As soon as the clock struck 7:00PM that night, his brain seemed to shut off, blacking out like a television in a wind storm.

The first thing he was aware of was waking up. He found himself in a small room, the walls made of dark wood and the floor he was lying on a plush, dark red carpet. There were candle-lit sconces on the wall, sending warm light into the room. Pete found that pain pounded at his temples, as well as his shoulder.

Across the room were two men, both with their backs to the man on the floor. The first one was maybe an inch shorter than the second, with black hair that hung limply at his chin and alabaster skin free of any blemishes. He was wearing a pair of black dress pants, along with a shirt of the same kind. "Michael, this is ridiculous," the man said to the second man.

The second man— Michael— said: "I know this isn't ideal, but it was an accident."

"Ideal?" The first man growled. "This sure as hell is not ideal! You just screwed us! We will be forced to move out of the city, state, hell, maybe the country!"

"Can you drop the whole 1740 thing?" Michael sighed, running his slender fingers through his hair. Dyed-blond with the dark roots showing. "It's annoying as fuck!"

Pete groaned, a sudden pain racing through his shoulder. "Mikey?" He whimpered and saw the man turn around.

"Pete!" Mikey cried and raced across the room, falling into his knees and helping Pete sit up. "Pete, I'm so sorry I did this to you."

"What..." Pete mumbled. "Did what?"

"Do you..." Mikey started. "You don't remember?"

"Of course he does not, Michael," the man across the room said. "You put your ve—"

"Gerard!" Mikey yelled, snapping his head to look at him. "Stop! Pete isn't ready yet! Please, leave so I can explain to him what's going on!"

The man called Gerard sighed heavily, and left the room, letting the heavy door slam shut.

"Oh my God, Pete," Mikey said softly, grasping Pete's hands in his own. "I need to tell you something.

"First of all, I must tell you what we did last night, and how you came to be in Gerard's house. After dinner last night—"

"It's the 14th?" Pete asked.

"Yes, it is," Mikey answered. "After dinner, we..." He trailed off and removed his hands from Pete's. He started unbutton his shirt and a vision came to Pete.

A slamming door. Pete being pushed into his bed. The feeling of Mikey's mouth on his own. Soft kisses becoming fevered and passionate. Pete's fingers making quick work to remove Mikey's shirt— the same shirt he was currently taking off.

Pete came back to the present and saw the pale skin of Mikey's chest covered in small, red marks, some larger than others, and others a light purple. Hesitantly, Pete reached out and ran the soft of his fingers along the marks, and Mikey's hand laid to rest on Pete's knee.

"We slept together?" Pete asked.

"It frightens me that you don't remember, but, yes, we did," Mikey said, shrugging his shirt back on. "When Gerard— that man who just left, my brother— found out, he lost his mind. Called me idiotic and irresponsible and forced me to choose to either kill you or make you disappear so that nobody found out about us. It's obvious which option I chose, and brought you to Gerard's house, per his wife's request.

"Second, I lied about not killing that poor boy. Ryan Ross was just a victim of my bloodlust, as was everybody else who was kidnapped on the 14th, a list that now includes you. I was never convicted of anything because a family friend works at the police station, and he clears my name every months, gets rid of the evidence and such.

"And third..." Mikey stopped and looked up from his shirt buttons to see Pete looking at him with a mixture of horror and fascination in his beautiful, dark brown eyes. Mikey realized how vulnerable Pete was at that moment— Mikey could easily grasp his throat and drink from his neck; the blood would still be warm, as Mikey preferred it.

Pete watched in terror as Mikey's alluring hazel eyes turned scarlet, the color spreading from his pupils across his irises until all of the amber was gone. He also watched as his canine teeth elongated to a point, pushing at Mikey's bottom lip.

"I'm a monster," Mikey said finally. "There are hundreds of name for what I am: a bloodsucker, a creature of the night, a hellion. But I prefer vampire."

Pete was silent in shock.

"I know that you're confused about everything," Mikey said, not bothering to retract his fangs. It felt good to keep them out after having them hidden for so long, and they ached with the smell of Pete's blood rushing through his veins. "And it's okay."

"Are you going to kill me?" Pete blurted, his voice trailing to a whisper.

"I don't plan on it," Mikey told him. "You were never supposed to get wrapped up in this. You were only supposed to be the eye candy who lived a few floors beneath me. But now that we, as Gerard called it, 'laid together', you're bound to me."

"Bound?"

"It's this really old ruling that nobody follows anymore, made back when a woman's purity was a big deal. It said that, if a vampire was the one to take a woman's innocence, they were bound to her for the rest of either of their lives, and vice verse for a male mortal and a female vampire.

"It's basically the same when you throw two men in the mix," Mikey said. "Homosexuality didn't exist in the 1600s, so the same rules apply. And it's a bit more complicated when you have a vampire who was turned, because, almost 100 percent of the time, when the vampire is a mortal, their innocence is taken before they're turned. So, the first time you sleep with a mortal when you're a vampire, that makes them bound to you as well. It sounds really difficult, but it'll make sense later."

"I took your vampire virginity?" Pete asked after a moment and Mikey smiled.

"Yes, you did," Mikey said, still smiling. Then, his face fell again and he said: "Now, you're bound to me until one of us dies."

"I know basically nothing about you," Pete said quietly, his voice shaking with fear. "Who are you?"

"Sweetheart, you already know. And you're mine now."

---

"Gerard, he has nowhere to sleep," Mikey complained. "He doesn't even have a change of clothes! Just let him stay in my room with me."

"It is not becoming of a young man to sleep in the same bed as his lover when the two are not engaged in marriage," Gerard said firmly, leaning against the door frame of his bedroom. "Especially considering the man's lover is another man."

"We have already slept together!" Mikey exclaimed. "That's how we got into this big mess! Lindsey, help me out here!"

"Gerard, babe," Lindsey said, coming up behind her husband and wrapping her arms around his waist. She set a small kiss on her husband's neck before adding: "Just let Peter stay with Michael. It is not as big a deal as you are making it out to be."

Gerarc looked at Lindsey with an unidentifiable look in his eyes, and sighed. "I suppose I will give to my brother's wanton ways," he said, giving Mikey a small smile. "Good night, brother."

"'Night, Gee. 'Night, Lin," Mikey said and the two others bid him good night.

Mikey escaped back down the hall to his own bedroom, slipping in quietly. Pete was laying on top of the bedsheets, sleeping with a small frown on his face. Mikey decided that he didn't like seeing Pete unhappy, even if it was a nightmare.

Mikey, watching Pete the whole time, changed out of the jeans and red dress shirt he wore and into his pajamas, laying down next to Pete. Immediately, the sleeping man snuggled into Mikey's body warmth, his nose pressing at Mikey's pressure point.

"Why do you not remember, Pete?" He whispered, his lips pressing into the side of Pete's head. "Please remember."

Unknown to Mikey, Pete was remembering, that very second.

Heavy breathing filled the small room, their bodies pressed flush together. Mikey traced Pete's tattoos with his fingers, pressing his forehead against Pete's chest. "Pete?" Mikey whispered, his voice almost inaudible.

"Yes?" Pete answered at the same volume.

"I..." Mikey started, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Pete's. "You're amazing, Pete. Everything about you is phenomenal."

"You're astonishing," Pete said. "I've never met anyone like you before."

"‘The Capulets and Montagues don't have shit on us’," Mikey quoted and Pete gave him a look.

"Did you just quote my own book to me after having sex with me?" Pete asked, slightly amused.

"I did," Mikey said. "Because you've written such beautiful phrases, it's hard not to work them into conversation."

"I've always been told I have a way with words."

Pete stirred, breaking himself out of his sleep. He slowly opened his eyes and found Mikey holding him close to his body, his own eyes closed and his lips parted slightly, his chest rhythmically rising and falling with his breaths.

Pete smiled and worked his jeans down his legs, leaving him in his Guns N Roses short and red striped boxers. He wrapped his arms around Mikey as well, and nuzzled his face back in Mikey's neck.

"I'm trying, Mikey," Pete whispered. "I'm trying."

Notes

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