Kill Your Darlings

Pete woke up to Mikey gently rubbing his shoulder. "Pete, baby," he whispered. "Wake up, please."

Pete leaned into Mikey's touch, smiling at the feeling of having someone to wake up next to. "I'm 'wake," he mumbled, sitting up and running his eyes. "'Morning, Mikey."

"Good morning," Mikey said and gave Pete a small kiss on the top of his head. "Did you sleep well?"

"Sorta," Pete said. He glanced out the window and asked: "It's still dark, why're we up?"

"I couldn't sleep, and wanted someone to talk to," Mikey admitted. "You can only have internal conversations so many times without going batty."

Pete nodded sleepily, laying back down next to Mikey. Mikey ran his fingertips down the side of Pete's body before letting them rest against his waist. He gently pulled Pete on top of him, putting one of his legs on each side of his hips.

Pete looked down at Mikey and gave him a small smile. "I'm awake now," he said. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I'm not sure," Mikey said and Pete laughed softly.

Then, he noticed that Mikey's hands were shaking; that his eyes were so diluted with red, they were almost black; that his fangs grazed his bottom lip. "Did you leave?" Pete asked. "And... Feed?"

Mikey thought for a second before saying: "I haven't, but I want to. It physically hurts, how hungryy I am. I need to feed, but I'm trying to control myself."

"You... Umm..." Pete started. "Fuck. You said that human blood was-was best and I... I would be wiling to, uh—"

"I know what you're offering, and I'm not letting that happen," Mikey said harshly. "You don't understand; I wouldn't put you through this."

"Make me understand," Pete demanded. "If it's okay, I'll let you feed from me every month instead of having to hunt. If it isn't, I'll tell you immediately and we just never speak about it again. Deal?"

"No deal, Pete," Mikey said, sitting up. He gripped Pete's waist, to keep him from moving away, and peered helplessly up at Pete. "What's one thing in common with all of my victims? All of their blood was drained. That's how I am. I become feral, animalistic, savage, with only the thought of my prey's blood in my head. I don't want to kill you, Pete. I couldn't live with myself if I did.

"And it hurts," Mikey said, hissing slightly at the memory. "When I was turned, I had someone feed on me and release their venom into me. I don't remember much else, but I do know that it hurts more than anything before."

"Michael," Pete growled. "I'm asking you, consenting you, allowing you to feed on me. I know that's what you want most, isn't it? Just to be able on feed on something that doesn't try to save itself, at the very least. I'm stay here they whole time— I won't run."

Mikey chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. "Are you sure?" He asked. "Because it's the worst pain I've ever been in, in my whole 140 years."

Pete sighed and turned himself that the largest vein on his neck was displayed. "Just do it and get it done," he said, clenching his eyes shut in anticipation.

Hesitanrly, Mikey leaned forward, connecting his lips to Pete's
neck. He felt the man in his lap shiver at the feeling of his finals gently pulling across the delicate skin, and the familiar sound filled his ears. It pounded in his skull, magnified hundreds of times by the close proximity.

His fangs pained at the thought of Pete on top of him, and the blood running through his body. He kissed the spot softly a few times again, letting his lips flutter against the skin as he asked: "Are you ready?"

Pete dug his fingernails into Mikey's back as an answer, yet whether it was a positive or negative answer, Mikey wasn't sure. He didn't have much time to ponder on it, as the monster that he was overtook him and he sank his teeth into Pete's neck.

Pete gasped and cried out at the pain. Mikey was right; it hurt like hell. It felt like hundreds of heated needles were being roughly shoved into his skin, and Mikey's warm breath didn't much help at all.

Mikey moved his head slightly to the side and bit down harder, making the flow of blood into his mouth commence. It was the richest he had ever tasted; in his opinion, it tasted like Pete— like skin and the distant smell of ink and the way that the smell of old books tastes, like everything that Mikey adored and loved about Pete.

Who was now starting to see stars. "Mikey..." He choked out and tried to look down. At that moment, Mikey snarled, frightening Pete tremendously. Pete felt Mikey drinking from his neck, and he felt a small trail of some substance trickle down his neck to his chest.

It trailed onto the bed sheets, filling the room with its metallic smell, and spilled onto both of them. Soon, Pete's front was almost entirely covered in his own blood, as was Mikey's, which was pressed as close to Pete's own chest that he could be. "Mikey..." Pete gasped, turning desperate. "Stop... Please."

He stopped drinking, but kept his teeth in Pete's neck. The pain was almost unbearable, and Pete's hand scrambled to find Mikey's own. "Pete?" He asked, his voice muffled by Pete's neck. Finally, not receiving an answer, he pulled his teeth out and moved out enough to gauge Pete's reaction.

"Fuck, Pete," Mikey gasped, hugging him tightly. Pete was pale, and breathing heavily as tears ran down his face. His jawline and below were covered in blood, and the flow could be traced to a small bit of Pete's neck, where two small holes now resided.

Mikey kissed up and down Pete's neck, trying to soothe him. "It's okay, Pete," Mikey whispered. "You'll be fine."

"You're..." Pete started, his blood-deprived brain not wanting to make sense. "You're a monster. And you-you'll actually do this until the person dies?"

It broke Mikey's heart to hear those words from his Pete. "I am a monster, Pete," he said softly. "I just almost killed the person I love and... I'm despicable."

Pete tried to wipe the blood off his chest and his eyes widened at the sheer amount of blood on his skin. "Oh my God," he murmured. Then, he seemed to fall completely still, not saying a word and looking down his lap. Every so often, he would mutter things like: "... God, why.." Or "... Could have died..."

Not thinking, Mikey picked Pete up and carried him to the bathroom. Pete's body was sticky with the maroon from the seeping wounds on his neck, and it proved difficult to put him down.

Mikey started a bath, hoping the sound of the running water wouldn't wake anyone. He made quick work to take Pete's clothes off and help him into the bath. Pete seemed catatonic, like he didn't want to move if his life depended on it.

Mikey rubbed Pete's skin clean, focusing on getting the blood dried to his chest off more than the fact that it was Pete's blood he was washing off. The rust-colored water fell on rivulets down Pete's body and into the water, making it redder and redder by the second. Mikey decided that he would tend to Pete first, then worry about himself.

He helped Pete out of the bath, delighted when Pete whispered that he could do it himself.

That was when a slight problem arose. "Pete," Mikey said quietly, laying one hand on Pete's shoulder.

"Yes?"

"I..." Mikey started, but he was unsure of how to ask. "I umm..."

"What?" Pete asked.

Mikey swallowed his other thoughts and focused on what he wanted to say. "I want to have sex. Now."

Pete understood why. His hormones were acting up from feeding, and he was relieved that Pete wasn't dead. Pete didn't answer vocally— he pressed his lips against Mikey's, curling his fingers in Mikey's hair.

Mikey ran his hand up Pete's leg, hitching it up, as he pushed his tongue into Pete's mouth. Pete pulled away and took Mikey's hand in his own, disregarding the blood all over Mikey as he pulled him back to bedroom.

Almost immediately, Mikey was being pushed onto the bed, Pete practically tearing his shirt and boxers off. Pete sat back on Mikey's hips like before and started to suck on his fingers, making sure Mikey could see him.

Mikey closed his eyes, preparing himself for the pain that came with bottoming; he wasn't prepared, though, for the moan that escaped Pete. Mikey popped his eyes open and saw a sight to behold: Pete was fingering himself.

He let out another moan and tossed his head back, his free hand lightly stroking his hard cock. "F-fuck," he moaned as he pushed in his second finger, biting his bottom lip. It was one of the most beautiful things Mikey had seen, and it occurred to him just how goddamn lucky he was to have found Pete.

Without a word, Pete removed his fingers and pushed himself onto Mikey's hard member, both of them moaning and cussing out. "I did..." Pete started and let out a small whimpers "Half of the work. You do the—" another moan, "rest. Oh, fuck."

Mikey set his hands on Pete's hips, bouncing him slightly. Pete was whimpering and crying out with pleasure, his cock leaking on his and Mikey's stomachs. "You like that?" Mikey asked. "Wanna bounce your pretty little ass on my cock?"

"Fuck," Pete whimpered, digging his fingernails into Mikey shoulder as he pushed his hips down on Mikey, then pulling them up again, his breathing becoming long and heavy. "M-Mikey, please. I'm asking nicely— fuck!— please just fuck me. Don't worry about— Bloody fucking hell— hurting me.

"You don't need to ask," Mikey said, his voice low, and flipped them so that he was on top. He placed his hands by Pete's shoulders and watched as the blood fell from his own body onto Pete's pale stomach; watching the red splatter on the near-white, like an animal's blood in the winter, splashing onto fresh snow, it made Mikey lose himself, pounding into Pete so roughly that their moans were lost among the sound of the mattress squeaking.

Sweat formed on their bodies, diffusing with the blood, and spurring Mikey on, harder and deeper and faster. He leaned down and kissed Pete roughly, the man underneath moaning into Mikey's open mouth.

"Mikes— Jesus Christ— I'm-I'm cumming!" Pete cried suddenly, and moaned once more before releasing on their stomachs, his back arching against his will.

This pulled Mikey under as well. One final thrust and hearing his name's on Pete's breath is all it took to set him off, almost violently. No one said anything for a long while, trying to catch their breaths.

"I'm letting you keep feeding on me," Pete started, wiping the blood and sweat off of him. "If you fuck me like that after every time you feed, I'll let you do whatever the hell you want to me."

"You're an idiot," Mikey laughed quietly. He rolled over, holding Pete close to him. The scene was macabre— two lovers laying in a pool of blood after having sex— but it was beautiful at the same time."

Suddenly, Mikey bolted up, his eyes wide. He looked over that the dark wall, seeing something that Pete wasn't. "It's 1:23 in the morning," he murmured and slipped out of bed and crossing the room to the window. He edged the curtain open and frowned down at something below them.

Then, the door bell rang, loud and long throughout the house."Are we expecting visiter's this morning?" Mikey asked.

Notes

So, whoops, I have a blood kink. And pain kink. Like, yeah, I'm fucked in the head, what else is new?

Who do you think is at the door? It's not that much of a surprise, but I liked writing it.