SERIOUSLY, ALWAYS YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL by Randall Morgan -- CHAPTER NINE
Okay, vampers, a new chapter! ADULTS ONLY! Comments please!
Chapter Nine
JUSTIN’S POV:
I feel the cell quiver in my pocket and I yank it out to read it before lunch ends and we get our phones taken up if we are caught looking at them in class. I am hoping for Brian, but instead it’s from a person called Ericnorthman1. Who is Eric Northman? I open it, read it and then I know. Eric Northman is the vampire! He saw my message to Brian and then he sent me this one!
I pull Daphne out of her conversation with some girl and hand her my phone, making her read the message. When she looks confused I explain that he’s the vampire! Her expression changes from annoyed to stunned and she grabs my arm and says, “Would you do it? Would you paint a vampire?”
I shrug. “Why not? How cool is that? He wants me to send him a sample of my work. As soon as I can get home, I’ll photo one of my drawings of Brian and attach it to an email. He knows what Brian looks like, so he can see my talent.”
“Shouldn’t you talk to Brian first?”
“Why? Why would he care?”
She looks at me like I am some kind of mutant. “The man or vampire or whatever he is, happens to be Brian’s client, Justin. I can see why he might be annoyed.”
I think about that and then shrug. “I’ll take that chance.”
“Do you really think vampires text? Maybe Brian is playing a joke on you.”
“We’ll find out.” I text him back. “I’ll send a sample later today when I get out of school. Thanks!”
I push send before I can rethink it and delete the word “thanks” that seems kind of lame on review. Wish I didn’t mention school either. Oh well. Too late now. The bell rings, announcing that lunch is over and I make sure the cell is on vibrate in case I get a response. It’s not every day a vampire texts you. That’s all I can think of for the rest of the day. Whatever the teachers are droning goes right through my head and out my ears. I daydream what this Eric Northman must look like. I think he must have black hair and a narrow, sharp face with eyes as dark as midnight and a thin, wasted frame. His skin will be super-white and poreless and he’ll have long bony fingers and sharp nails. Or not.
By the time the school day ends, I haven’t heard from him. Damn. Or Brian. Damn! I hurry home and find one of my best sketches of Brian, and even though he’s naked in it, who cares? It’s beautiful. I photograph it and then forward it to Eric Northman. If that doesn’t get a response I don’t know what will.
BRIAN’S POV:
I wake up ravenous. Eric is asleep beside me. Strange how I think of him now as “Eric” and not the “vampire”. I know he’s a vampire, but he’s also Eric, an individual. I pick up my cell phone to check the time. It’s almost four. God, I slept the whole day away. I go into the bathroom to take a shower, careful not to turn on the light until the door is closed. I don’t want to disturb him.
Blood tints the water as it goes down the drain, scrubbed off my skin. I’m hungry but otherwise I feel good. Energized. Satiated. I tie on a robe and return to the darkened bedroom. I pick up my cell again and return some texts. I tell my office I had a good meeting with Eric, more to follow. If only they knew how good. I tell Mikey to shut up and then see the text from Justin, my stalker. I send back a response: “I’m working. Stop bothering me. No one wants their portrait painted.”
Almost immediately he sends me a message. “Eric Northman texted me that he may want his portrait painted so I sent him a sample of my work. What does he look like?”
I frown at that. How did Eric know to text Justin? Did he read my phone? And why would he express an interest in having his portrait painted? It’s not like he changes over time. “He looks like Nosferatu.” I respond and hit send.
“That tap-tap-tapping on those keys is annoying, Brian,” his groggy voice startles me.
“Did you read my texts?”
“Yes.” No attempt to lie or make excuses.
“Why?”
“Curious. Who’s Supermichael and J. Artiste?”
“My best friend and my stalker. You responded to Justin, that is J. Artiste?”
“Yeah, I told him to send me a sample of his work. Did he?”
“I don’t know. Unlike you, I don’t read messages not intended for me.”
He chuckles. “Righteous indignation doesn’t work for you, Brian.” He reaches over me and picks up his phone. He opens an attachment and smiles. “Very nice.”
“Let me see.”
I find myself looking at a naked sketch of myself. Great. “He is very talented,” Eric says. “And obviously he knows you well.”
“We’ve tricked. Big deal. He’s a kid, Eric. Has a crush. That’s all it is. I was his first.”
“Interesting. Does he know we’re fucking?”
“I don’t share shit about my life with him.”
He pulls me down beside him. “Turn on the lamp. It’s almost dusk, and when the sun sets we’re going out. So let’s put the business behind us.”
I have perhaps the strangest business meeting in my life sitting on the bed with a naked vampire, pitching my campaign. He has several cogent comments about it and then we agree it’s a start, with his changes. He signs the standard contract and says he will get the retainer from Pam. In all, the meeting takes about an hour. He says he is going to take a bath. I order food for myself and take the tray at the door, not admitting the room service guy into the suite.
Eric is still in the tub when I finish my meal and go in the bathroom. I look down at his tall, ripped physique as he smiles up at me. “You smell like chicken.”
I take off my robe and climb in with him. The water is cold and I warm it up, and then turn off the faucets. I spread out above him and press my ear to his chest. I hear a very slow thump, thump that surprises me a little. He reads my surprise and smiles. “Of course my heart works. Just at a different pace than yours. That’s why it kills us if you stake us in the heart.”
“Is that the only way to kill you?”
“No, there are others, why? You turning into a fearless vampire hunter now?”
“What a waste, no.” I kiss him. He kisses me back. He grabs me and soon we are right back where all this started. By the time it’s over, the bathroom floor is soaked in water with a pinkish tinge. We dry off and throw the towels on the tiles to soak it up. When we return to the bedroom, he winces.
“Put that tray in the hall. The smell of food is sickening.”
I do so while he drains a bottle of Tru Blood in one long gulp. He glances at the time on his phone. Asks me to part the curtains and ensure the sun is below the horizon. It is. While there is a slight blush of light left in the sky, it’s no longer dangerous to him, apparently. We dress and I look at the bed and realize the sheets are stained with blood and semen. It looks as if we gang banged a half dozen virgins. I wonder what the hotel staff will make of this?
Eric puts a hundred dollar bill on the bedside table and leaves a note written on the hotel’s note pad. “To housekeeping, for your trouble.”
“Money still talks in your society, Brian.” He takes a valet ticket from his pocket and calls for his car. Dressed for the night, we leave the room together and he carries the mostly empty six-pack of Tru Blood with him. If his remarkable beauty and pallor are not a dead give away to what he is, the Tru Blood tells the rest of the story. Wearing dark glasses as we go outside, he rests an elbow on my shoulder, reminding me how tall he is as we wait for the car.
“Where are we going?” I ask when the hot little Porsche is brought around.
“First I have to stop by Fangtasia, to get your money for the ad agency and to make sure Pam has it under control.”
“And then?”
“We’ll see.”
That sort of sums up this whole thing between us, whatever it is. We’ll see. I have no idea where it’s going or if it’s going anywhere. I just know I want to fuck him more than ever and he wants to fuck me. That’s all that really matters.
Chapter Nine
JUSTIN’S POV:
I feel the cell quiver in my pocket and I yank it out to read it before lunch ends and we get our phones taken up if we are caught looking at them in class. I am hoping for Brian, but instead it’s from a person called Ericnorthman1. Who is Eric Northman? I open it, read it and then I know. Eric Northman is the vampire! He saw my message to Brian and then he sent me this one!
I pull Daphne out of her conversation with some girl and hand her my phone, making her read the message. When she looks confused I explain that he’s the vampire! Her expression changes from annoyed to stunned and she grabs my arm and says, “Would you do it? Would you paint a vampire?”
I shrug. “Why not? How cool is that? He wants me to send him a sample of my work. As soon as I can get home, I’ll photo one of my drawings of Brian and attach it to an email. He knows what Brian looks like, so he can see my talent.”
“Shouldn’t you talk to Brian first?”
“Why? Why would he care?”
She looks at me like I am some kind of mutant. “The man or vampire or whatever he is, happens to be Brian’s client, Justin. I can see why he might be annoyed.”
I think about that and then shrug. “I’ll take that chance.”
“Do you really think vampires text? Maybe Brian is playing a joke on you.”
“We’ll find out.” I text him back. “I’ll send a sample later today when I get out of school. Thanks!”
I push send before I can rethink it and delete the word “thanks” that seems kind of lame on review. Wish I didn’t mention school either. Oh well. Too late now. The bell rings, announcing that lunch is over and I make sure the cell is on vibrate in case I get a response. It’s not every day a vampire texts you. That’s all I can think of for the rest of the day. Whatever the teachers are droning goes right through my head and out my ears. I daydream what this Eric Northman must look like. I think he must have black hair and a narrow, sharp face with eyes as dark as midnight and a thin, wasted frame. His skin will be super-white and poreless and he’ll have long bony fingers and sharp nails. Or not.
By the time the school day ends, I haven’t heard from him. Damn. Or Brian. Damn! I hurry home and find one of my best sketches of Brian, and even though he’s naked in it, who cares? It’s beautiful. I photograph it and then forward it to Eric Northman. If that doesn’t get a response I don’t know what will.
BRIAN’S POV:
I wake up ravenous. Eric is asleep beside me. Strange how I think of him now as “Eric” and not the “vampire”. I know he’s a vampire, but he’s also Eric, an individual. I pick up my cell phone to check the time. It’s almost four. God, I slept the whole day away. I go into the bathroom to take a shower, careful not to turn on the light until the door is closed. I don’t want to disturb him.
Blood tints the water as it goes down the drain, scrubbed off my skin. I’m hungry but otherwise I feel good. Energized. Satiated. I tie on a robe and return to the darkened bedroom. I pick up my cell again and return some texts. I tell my office I had a good meeting with Eric, more to follow. If only they knew how good. I tell Mikey to shut up and then see the text from Justin, my stalker. I send back a response: “I’m working. Stop bothering me. No one wants their portrait painted.”
Almost immediately he sends me a message. “Eric Northman texted me that he may want his portrait painted so I sent him a sample of my work. What does he look like?”
I frown at that. How did Eric know to text Justin? Did he read my phone? And why would he express an interest in having his portrait painted? It’s not like he changes over time. “He looks like Nosferatu.” I respond and hit send.
“That tap-tap-tapping on those keys is annoying, Brian,” his groggy voice startles me.
“Did you read my texts?”
“Yes.” No attempt to lie or make excuses.
“Why?”
“Curious. Who’s Supermichael and J. Artiste?”
“My best friend and my stalker. You responded to Justin, that is J. Artiste?”
“Yeah, I told him to send me a sample of his work. Did he?”
“I don’t know. Unlike you, I don’t read messages not intended for me.”
He chuckles. “Righteous indignation doesn’t work for you, Brian.” He reaches over me and picks up his phone. He opens an attachment and smiles. “Very nice.”
“Let me see.”
I find myself looking at a naked sketch of myself. Great. “He is very talented,” Eric says. “And obviously he knows you well.”
“We’ve tricked. Big deal. He’s a kid, Eric. Has a crush. That’s all it is. I was his first.”
“Interesting. Does he know we’re fucking?”
“I don’t share shit about my life with him.”
He pulls me down beside him. “Turn on the lamp. It’s almost dusk, and when the sun sets we’re going out. So let’s put the business behind us.”
I have perhaps the strangest business meeting in my life sitting on the bed with a naked vampire, pitching my campaign. He has several cogent comments about it and then we agree it’s a start, with his changes. He signs the standard contract and says he will get the retainer from Pam. In all, the meeting takes about an hour. He says he is going to take a bath. I order food for myself and take the tray at the door, not admitting the room service guy into the suite.
Eric is still in the tub when I finish my meal and go in the bathroom. I look down at his tall, ripped physique as he smiles up at me. “You smell like chicken.”
I take off my robe and climb in with him. The water is cold and I warm it up, and then turn off the faucets. I spread out above him and press my ear to his chest. I hear a very slow thump, thump that surprises me a little. He reads my surprise and smiles. “Of course my heart works. Just at a different pace than yours. That’s why it kills us if you stake us in the heart.”
“Is that the only way to kill you?”
“No, there are others, why? You turning into a fearless vampire hunter now?”
“What a waste, no.” I kiss him. He kisses me back. He grabs me and soon we are right back where all this started. By the time it’s over, the bathroom floor is soaked in water with a pinkish tinge. We dry off and throw the towels on the tiles to soak it up. When we return to the bedroom, he winces.
“Put that tray in the hall. The smell of food is sickening.”
I do so while he drains a bottle of Tru Blood in one long gulp. He glances at the time on his phone. Asks me to part the curtains and ensure the sun is below the horizon. It is. While there is a slight blush of light left in the sky, it’s no longer dangerous to him, apparently. We dress and I look at the bed and realize the sheets are stained with blood and semen. It looks as if we gang banged a half dozen virgins. I wonder what the hotel staff will make of this?
Eric puts a hundred dollar bill on the bedside table and leaves a note written on the hotel’s note pad. “To housekeeping, for your trouble.”
“Money still talks in your society, Brian.” He takes a valet ticket from his pocket and calls for his car. Dressed for the night, we leave the room together and he carries the mostly empty six-pack of Tru Blood with him. If his remarkable beauty and pallor are not a dead give away to what he is, the Tru Blood tells the rest of the story. Wearing dark glasses as we go outside, he rests an elbow on my shoulder, reminding me how tall he is as we wait for the car.
“Where are we going?” I ask when the hot little Porsche is brought around.
“First I have to stop by Fangtasia, to get your money for the ad agency and to make sure Pam has it under control.”
“And then?”
“We’ll see.”
That sort of sums up this whole thing between us, whatever it is. We’ll see. I have no idea where it’s going or if it’s going anywhere. I just know I want to fuck him more than ever and he wants to fuck me. That’s all that really matters.