CSI: Miami: Loving Dead
Title: Loving Dead
Pairing: Speed/Ryan
Rating: T
Disclaimer: disclaimed.
Spoilers: Season 3: "Lost Son" and "Under the Influence".
A/N: Yes, Speed is dead... in a way. This is the first CSI: Miami story I've posted, despite the fact that I've written plenty. Perhaps I will post them some day...maybe.
He could feel the power running through his veins like wildfire, his muscles tense and ready to strike. He felt primitive, like an animal on the prowl, but caged and unable to roam free.
Hard wood surrounded him, covered by cushion and cloth and comfort. Coffin, his mind supplied helpfully. He was in a coffin, breathing in recycled air that wasn’t meant to be breathed in by the living. He didn’t remember how he came to be here.
The last thing… There had been a loud explosion of noise, and then sky, and blood on his tongue. Then darkness, faces fading in and out, voices that felt like family…
He punched at the wood above him, felt it bruise his knuckles as much as it bruised the coffin. The screaming reached his ears before he realized it was his own doing, clawing madly with splinters under his fingernails.
How had this happened to him? His mind raced with questions, so many he couldn’t understand half of them. There, and then not as another replaced it. It confused him as rage and fear engulfed him, ripped from his throat until dirt fell into his mouth. He’d broken through, the ground above him caving in to crush him.
The closer he came to the surface, the hungrier he became. Understandable, considering he’d been dead. How long, he didn’t know, but that didn’t matter now, because his hands were reaching through soil, then grass and grasping at humid air.
It was like rebirth, he supposed, in a terrifying kind of sense, sitting on his own grave and staring down at the plaque that identified this spot as his.
Yes, he remembered now. Tim Speedle. That was his name. Speed was what he preferred to be called.
His stomach rumbled with thirst as much as hunger. Absently, he ran his tongue over his teeth. His canines were sharper than those he recalled, his cravings of a different nature.
He didn’t know what it was he wanted, but he didn’t care. He followed his newly grown predator’s instincts, rising from his own grave and stalking like a phantom through the graveyard and into the world of the living.
Speed was on the prowl.
-
Ryan Wolfe stretched and glanced at the clock. Eleven fifty-three. Seven minutes to go.
Looking down at himself he frowned, straightening his shirt, fixing his hair, plucking at invisible lint that wasn’t there. Not for the first time, he was having doubts about this. A night out having fun with his friends on patrol was nothing new. A bar, or cards, occasionally dinner… but a club? It was new territory for Ryan and he didn’t feel particularly comfortable with the idea.
Especially considering the fact that he wasn’t sure he knew how to dance, wasn’t sure he’d ever done it in public, let alone in front of his friends. Maybe if he got really drunk he wouldn’t remember anything. He could only hope.
He looked at the clock again. Eleven fifty-nine. Any time now.
Just as he thought about the chance that he could get out of this, that he could change his mind last minute, a knock sounded on his door. Without looking, he knew who it was. Paul, his mentor and teacher.
And sure enough, there he was, with his graying hair and kindly wrinkled eyes, urging Ryan out the door. No doubt he knew Ryan had his reservations about tonight but they’d agreed to go out as a group. So that’s what they would do.
Ryan’s nerves twitched beneath his skin as he was stuffed into the back seat of the little car. He wasn’t sure what kind it was, or if it was economical or not, but wondering kept his mind off of what he was sure was impending doom.
There wasn’t much of a line at the club, which surprised Ryan, because he’d never seen a club without a line going around the block. He was glad he hadn’t gotten overdressed as he had originally planned, because the few people waiting to gain entrance were dressed rather simply. Jeans, t-shirts, sneakers. Nothing fancy. For that he was grateful.
Once they passed the bouncer, Ryan felt his heart speed up, and it wasn’t just the loud thumping of the bass from the speakers.
The club wasn’t overly crowded. An off night, maybe, he guessed. But there were enough people that he bumped into someone every time he tried to move forward.
They grabbed a booth just off the floor, one of them going up to order a pitcher of beer and a round of shots. Nearly an hour later Ryan felt loose enough to be pulled onto the dance floor by a tall, leggy blond. He felt, rather than heard, the laughter of the guys behind him, but he didn’t know why.
The girl was beautiful, with long flaxen hair, a tight black dress, with her make-up a little overdone. But that didn’t matter because she gave him a beautiful smile and pulled him close as she began swaying to the sounds of music thrumming through the air. He could do nothing but move with her.
He didn’t know how long he was out there, pressed against the supermodel, but sometime later she was pulling him away from the crowd, away from the dancing and into a dark alley outside. The air was stale and humid, the sweat running down his back doing nothing to comfort him, merely making his shirt stick awkwardly as the lady pressed him against the wall.
Ryan grimaced, knowing he’d have to throw away this shirt. There was no telling what kind of bacteria he was backed into. He wasn’t sure he’d even want to know.
The blond kissed him, shoving her tongue down his throat when he was taken by surprise. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, hadn’t meant for her to think he wanted this, especially not in an old alley, but it was too late to take back now.
And then there was something hard pressing against his thigh and he broke away. Now he knew why the guys had been laughing. She wasn’t a she at all, but a he. The evidence was rubbing against him.
He moaned before he pushed her - him - away, breathing hard and flushing red in the darkness as he turned away. The blond just laughed - and then he could hear the male in the voice - before pressing up against him again.
It wasn’t like he could get away, even if he was trained to use lethal force if necessary. It wasn’t necessary, even if he couldn’t catch his breath and felt fear carving into his spine.
He didn’t want this.
But then there was another presence, darker, and it made Ryan’s heart catch in his throat as a feeling like death shivered its way through him. Before he could blink, the blond was torn away from him, thrown into the opposite wall and someone was on him. Ryan could only watch as a dirty man descended on his would-be attacker. There wasn’t even a scream.
When the stranger stood, Ryan could see that the blond wasn’t dead, merely stunned into some kind of open-eyed sleep. He gulped loudly, hoping he wouldn’t be next.
Eyes were tuned on him and he tried to find a name for the color. Dark, sable, brown, black… Darkness was the only name that seemed to fit. Eyes of darkness stared him down, a tongue flicking out to lick blood away from stained lips, a glint of teeth in the night.
“You were just going to let him hurt you?” It was a deep voice and it rumbled its way into Ryan’s chest, even from across the alley. He couldn’t help but swallow at the sound of it.
“I… I don’t know,” Ryan replied hesitantly, his mouth suddenly dry. What was going to happen to him? Did he honestly even want to know? “I’ve never… I didn’t know what to do.”
When had he ever been so unsure of himself?
“Would you do the same thing if I was the one doing it?”
The question took Ryan by surprise. Apparently, the other man hadn’t been expecting it either, but he took a step closer anyway. Ryan could tell it had been awhile since he’d showered or shaved, even though it didn’t seem to bother him much, but the smell…
He knew that smell, had smelled it on dead bodies when he was sent to secure a scene, but this man wasn’t dead, was standing right in front of him, breathing cool air into Ryan’s face.
It was a strange sensation, having the chill of a man’s breath contrast the heat of Miami air. It made Ryan’s skin tingle. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.
The man with the eyes of darkness just smirked down at him. “You’ll do nicely,” he said more to himself than Ryan. “Do you have your own place?”
Ryan could only nod dumbly, unable to look away.
“Good, because I could use some help. Will you help me?”
Ryan nodded again. How could he not help someone in need, especially someone who had just helped him?
A cab. They needed a cab.
-
Speed sighed to himself as he ran a hand over his face. It was still full of splinters and covered in funeral dirt, but he didn’t care at the moment. His first feed, and he hadn’t killed. Instinct had told him to do it, but he’d pulled back, afraid of what he would become if he did.
Then there had been the young man, staring in wonderment and fear and offering help without really knowing why. And now here they were, sharing the backseat of a cab, heading towards a strange man’s sacred space.
Maybe he seemed trustworthy in this monstrous state of life after death. Or maybe this young man was just too trusting of strangers who saved him from would-be rapists in abandoned alleyways. That’s when Speed seemed to realize they were still, in fact, strangers.
“Speed,” he said suddenly, and the man next to him looked at him in confusion. “That’s my name.”
There were emotions running through green eyes, and Speed watched eagerly in the flickering light of the street lamps.
“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”
Speed blinked. He’d expected a name in return, rather than a query upon his existence. “That’s beside the point. What’s your name?”
“Ryan. Ryan Wolfe. And you’re Speedle, right? Tim Speedle?”
So this guy had heard of him, huh? Ryan seemed to see the surprise in his eyes, because he continued a moment later.
“I’m in patrol,” he answered simply. “So I was one of the first to hear about… what happened. Which is one reason I don’t know why you’re sitting here talking to me.”
“It’s, uh, complicated.” Speed didn’t know what else to say, really, not with the cabby listening in. He’d wait until they got to Ryan’s place.
He was surprised at the cleanliness that greeted him as Ryan let him enter, closing the door and locking it three times before being sure that it was, in fact, locked. It was an odd thing to do, but Speed shrugged it off. Must be a quirk or something.
Taking a closer look at his surroundings, he realized that it might not be as quirky as he thought. Everything was ordered just so, books and records in alphabetical order, frames ordered in size from largest to smallest. The clothes in the closet, he was sure, would be ordered by color, from lightest to darkest, or maybe the other way around.
“OCD?” he asked lightly, hoping he wouldn’t be offending the man who had so openly invited a perfect stranger into his home.
But Ryan just blushed, slipping off his shoes and lining them up beside the door, motioning Speed to do the same. “It’s just a slight case,” he muttered, shrugging and then turning to face the dead man. “So, what are you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest is a gesture that was as much protective as it was defensive. “Zombie? Vampire? Werewolf? Some mutated alien being out to destroy humanity?”
Speed snorted. Was this kid serious? “I think you’ve been playing too much Resident Evil.” He took a deep breath. “But yeah. I guess I am. A vampire, I mean.”
“A vampire?” Ryan reiterated, staring blankly. “Like I-want-to-suck-your-blood, garlic and cross hating, can’t see yourself in the mirror Dracula?”
“A vampire, yes,” Speed repeated. “And despite the fact that I haven’t tested your theory, I know I’m not Dracula, I don’t want to suck your blood because I’ve just… fed,” he said awkwardly. “And last I tasted, I rather liked garlic.”
“And crosses?”
Speed shrugged. “Never really cared for ‘em.”
Ryan took a deep breath, his brain trying to process this rapid increase of information that was making no sense to his practical mind. “Can you see yourself in a mirror?”
Another shrug and an ironic grin. “I barely used them when I could, but I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
-
A vampire. He’d invited a damn vampire into his house. How stupid could he be? Here he was, thinking he was doing a good deed, but instead he was welcoming death himself into his home. Maybe he really did have too much to drink, because obviously he wasn’t thinking straight.
Tim Speedle himself was standing in Ryan’s living room - the recently departed, and he was claiming to be undead? Ryan sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Why do I suddenly feel like I’ve been tossed into some overrated B-list horror movie?”
Speed spared a dark chuckle. “At least you didn’t wake up six feet under.”
At that, Ryan glanced over him once more, wincing as he noticed the splinters embedded into the flesh of the dead man’s hands, and the dirt that covered his entire body. It was going to be a long night.
He led the way to his bathroom, surprising himself at the fact that he knowingly turned his back on someone who could possibly become his killer. But there was no attack, and he released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as Speed took a seat on the closed lid of the toilet.
His first-aid kit was fully stocked with disinfectant and band-aids, as well as things most kits wouldn’t include, he supposed, like a miniature surgical set. The disposable scalpel came in handy on more than one occasion.
“You’re really good at this,” Speed noted, flinching at a particularly painful splinter. “You deal with many dead guys climbing out of coffins?”
It was a joke, but the sarcasm was lost on Ryan, concentrating too hard and shaking his head at the question. Even his voice seemed distracted. “No, you’re the first.”
The alcohol stung like mad, Ryan was sure, as he watched the dark eyes clench in pain. There wasn’t much blood, for which he was grateful; he really didn’t want to be scrubbing the bathroom floor at three in the morning anyway.
Speed was loosening the tie around his neck, grimacing at the dirt that was in places dirt should never be. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”
Ryan’s eyes widened in realization. “Of course. Go ahead.” He turned to go but stopped before he could reach the door. “I’ll be right back with your towels.”
Speed nodded, already slipping off his suit jacket and leaning over to turn the water on.
It took longer than expected to find the towels. They were in the hall closet, but shoved behind the pillows and blankets that would make up Speed’s bed on the couch. It was probably the most disorganized room in the entire house.
Ryan made up the couch first, biting back a yawn as he retrieved the towels and made his way to the bathroom. As he opened the door, steam curled out and engulfed him. It was kind of like a sauna, heat wrapping around him. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Speed’s skin was scalded red.
Like a scene from a movie playing before his eyes, when he looked up, he caught the silhouette of a man visible through the frosted glass doors of the shower, partnered with a deep humming voice that sparked an inexplicable fire in his veins.
Ryan took a deep breath, coming back to himself enough to know to set the towels on the top of the toilet seat and retreat from the bathroom. Idly, he set about looking for something he could fix for dinner the next night. And, of course, there was breakfast to think about too. Eggs and bacon sounded good, maybe some toast. And orange juice. Vaguely, he wondered what vampires ate, if they ate anything other than blood.
Maybe that was something to think about at another time, when he didn’t actually have a vampire inside his house. In his bathroom. Using his shower. Ryan gulped. He was either going to have some very strange dreams… or some very good nightmares.
So caught up in his thoughts was he that he never heard the bathroom door click open or the approaching footsteps coming up behind him until Speed cleared his throat and spoke hesitantly.
“I, uh, don’t have any clean clothes.”
The simple statement made Ryan jump and as he turned and pulled away from the fridge, he hit his head on the bottom corner of the freezer door. Hissing and holding a hand to his throbbing wound, he looked over and saw that Speed was only wearing a towel tied around his waist.
It almost amazed him how much clothes could change a man. Speed was thinner than Ryan had originally thought, the clothes he’d chosen to wear in life probably a few sizes too big, at least.
Rubbing his head, he nodded, starting down the hall towards his bedroom. “I probably have something you can wear.”
There was an old band shirt, shoved in the back of his closet. Well, it wasn’t really shoved, more like on a hanger and pressed nicely, and put away where no one could see. It was big on him, so no doubt Speed would be comfortable in it. And then a pair of faded jeans that he didn’t wear anymore…
Speed had changed while Ryan had his back turned, so that when he whirled around with an apology on his lips about a lack of sharable underwear - because, really, who had those? - he was struck speechless at the sight of a dead man in clothes that he hadn’t worn since he’d gotten to Miami.
“Not bad,” Speed said, smiling as he looked down at the shirt he had just shrugged on. “But you don’t look like an AC/DC kind of guy.”
“That’s why you don’t judge people based solely on their appearances.”
-
It was kind of weird, being awake in the middle of the night in a house that didn’t belong to him, a strange man sleeping comfortably in the bedroom. And he knew Ryan was asleep because he’d wandered in a few times. He’d been dead for awhile - he didn’t feel particularly like sleeping. So he snooped and browsed.
Ryan, as it turned out, had a pretty good collection of old vinyl records. AC/DC, Kiss, Foghat, Alice Cooper, ZZ Top… a few classy guys, too, like Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby. Obviously, the kid had taste.
He didn’t know what else to do, so he played a few, not to loud for fear of waking Ryan, and looked through the shelves of books. Scientific journals were never a bad way to go, and it was always fun reading something new.
By the time Ryan’s alarm clock was ringing, Speed had reread a few articles and had started in on The Catcher in the Rye. He figured breakfast might be a nice touch. Eggs and bacon seemed the norm, and there were plenty in the fridge. It couldn’t hurt…
Ryan definitely seemed to appreciate the gesture, smiling over a mug of coffee as he poured a glass of orange juice. Speed wasn’t sure how coffee would taste with the after taste of orange juice, but he wasn’t the one drinking it, so he didn’t think about it.
Ryan frowned around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “Can you eat that?”
Speed looked down at his plate and shrugged. “I’ll find out, won’t I?”
“Hell of a way to find out.” Ryan took another bite. “This is good. Who taught you to cook?”
“Something I picked up.”
“Well, it’s good,” he complimented.
Speed waived it away. “I was awake. It was the least I could do.” He looked at Ryan, thinking of something. “How often to you stay out late and go to work early?”
“Not often. I just go out every now and then with some guys from patrol. Last night was the first time in a long time that I’ve been to a club. I don’t think I’ll be doing it again anytime soon.”
Speed smiled. “What? You don’t want to pick up anymore vampires?”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “I seriously doubt I could, even if I tried.”
Breakfast continued in silence, broken only when Ryan stood to gather their dishes. Speed grabbed his wrist before he could pull away. “I have a favor to ask,” he asked suddenly.
Ryan nodded, eyebrows furrowing, no doubt wondering what kind of favor a vampire could want.
“Have you heard of Horatio Caine?”
-
Ryan took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. It was a favor to Speed, whose eyes he could feel on his back, sunglassed though they were, hiding somewhere in the gathering crowd.
Speed had already spoken of them, his teammates, his family, the people closest to him, so Ryan knew who to talk to. Hell, he’d know even if he hadn’t been told. Everyone in Dade County knew who Horatio Caine was.
He was standing with Eric Delko, speaking in low tones about the bus that had killed the woman Alexx Woods was examining. Ryan took another deep breath and walked forward. He could do this.
“Lieutenant Caine? I’m Officer Wolfe.” He could do this, just explain what he’d learned. And then speak with Yelina Salas, ask her to put in a good word. Speed had told him what to do, but it didn’t take away his nervousness.
And he’d known why Horatio had checked his sidearm. Speed had been killed because he’d never cleaned his gun. Ryan joked about being a little OCD. Maybe it hadn’t been the best thing to do. He couldn’t tell what Horatio was thinking. And he could understand why Calleigh hadn’t been very nice to him, but at the end of the day when she’d smiled at him… it had been worth it.
Seeing Speed’s locker… it was surreal, knowing that despite the fact that he was dead to everyone he had known, he was waiting at home for Ryan, probably cooking and playing loud music. It was a strange thought, and oddly domestic.
It was surprisingly quiet, he noticed, when he parked his car in the driveway and unlocked the door. The lights weren’t even turned on, which was weird. Even though the curtains were dark, there was no reason for the house lights to be off. And Speed wasn’t in the living room. The kitchen was empty, looking just the way it had when he’d left that morning.
A noise, a pained moan. Ryan looked down the hall, saw the bathroom door wide open in the darkness. Speed was there, head against the coolness of the linoleum floor, curled up in a fetal position. His skin was so light it almost seemed to glow.
Ryan dropped his patrol uniform in the hall, rushing forward to kneel beside the groaning vampire. He felt like ice when Ryan put his hand on Speed’s forehead, and he smelled like bile.
“Speed? Speed, are you okay?”
It was probably a stupid question, but he didn’t know what else to ask, smoothing back the dead man’s hair and checking his vitals… Right, vampires didn’t have vitals.
Speed groaned again, eyes opening to peer up at Ryan. There was dried vomit on the corner of his mouth.
“How long have you been in here?” Ryan asked, standing to get a washcloth from the bar by the sink. As he ran it under the tap, Speed slowly sat up, grimacing at the movement as though it was painful. Glancing down, Ryan saw that whatever Speed had puked up was still in the toilet. It looked like the breakfast they had shared earlier.
Sitting down again, he took the damp cloth and gently wiped at Speed’s lips, smiling wryly.
“At least now we know you can’t eat normal food.”
Speed was silent, staring almost intently at some spot on Ryan’s shoulder. No, he suddenly realized. It wasn’t his shoulder, but his neck.
“Speed?” Ryan asked quietly, trying to resist the urge to move back. “Are you okay?”
His breathy whisper seemed to break Speed of whatever spell he’d been under, and he looked ashamed as he lowered his face to his hands. “I’m sorry, I’m just…” He trailed off, not sure what Ryan would think about being considered food.
“Hungry?” Ryan offered with a small smile.
“I’m sorry,” Speed repeated.
“It’s okay. You just need some rest.” He stood, offered the vampire his hand. “Come on. We’ll put you to bed.”
“What am I, three?” Speed grumbled. He didn’t take Ryan’s hand, just stood on his own, leaning heavily against the wall. “You shouldn’t trust me so freely.”
“What, you want me start wearing turtlenecks around the house? Hang garlic and leave out chicken fat on the table?”
Speed raised his eyebrows, looking at Ryan in the eyes, afraid to look anywhere else. “You don’t have any turtlenecks. And did you forget? I like garlic.”
“You also like real food, but it doesn’t stop your stomach from expelling it.”
Speed groaned again. “Don’t mention real food. Please.” He followed Ryan to the bedroom, surprised they weren’t headed to the living room. “How was your first day at the lab?”
Ryan shrugged, pulling back the covers on the bed and motioning Speed towards it. “Alright, I guess. I proved Calleigh’s dad didn’t kill anyone. And Lieutenant Caine kept a close eye on me. But everyone seemed a little…standoffish.”
“They’ll warm up eventually,” Speed told him, pulling his shirt over his head. Ryan immediately moved to fold it; Speed’s eyes moved to the throbbing vein in his neck, and it echoed in his head. “Why am I sleeping in here?” His brain felt fuzzy as I asked.
Ryan turned a smile on him. “I figured you could use it. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept on the couch.”
“This is your house,” Speed argued. “I don’t even belong here.” He paused, considering momentarily, trying to draw his eyes away from Ryan’s throat. “How often do you take strangers into your home and let them sleep in your bed? Knowing they could attack at any moment?”
Ryan swallowed thickly and Speed watched the movement in rapt attention. “It’s okay,” he said again, setting the folded shirt on top of the dresser and removing his own. “If you need to… If you need to eat… you can just ask.”
Speed’s dark eyes widened. “Do you know what you’re asking?” he asked in a hurried whisper, all the while moving closer towards Ryan. Had he been outside of himself, he would have thought he was stalking prey.
“I’m asking you to let me help.”
That seemed to be all he needed to hear, because one moment he was staring at Ryan’s neck, and the next his mouth was on warm skin, his body pressing Ryan’s into the dresser as his saliva numbed the juncture of shoulder and neck beneath his tongue. Speed moaned as blood filled his mouth and Ryan wrapped his arms around the vampire, pulling him closer.
It was such a wondrous feeling Ryan couldn’t help but lean into it.
-
Speed’s mind was within Ryan’s, the latest memories fresh for the taking, free to view like personal home videos. He didn’t know how he could do this, just that he could. It hadn’t happened with the blond in the alley, though, so it must’ve been different each time.
Or maybe it was because Ryan was so trusting of him. Even living he hadn’t had anyone trust him so openly. It frightened him a little. Ryan wasn’t naïve, by any means; had seen similar things to Speed - if not the same - in his job as patrol. And yet…
He could still smile like he believed in innocence, like there was something more than death waiting for him at the end of his journey.
Ryan believed in it, in the innocence of the world - Speed could taste it on his flesh, in his blood, throughout his entire being.
In his mind, he saw himself through Ryan’s eyes. The memory was from earlier, at the crime scene, where he’d silently pleaded H to take the bait, to give Ryan a shot on the team. And then Horatio had checked his guns. He could feel the regret flowing through Ryan; maybe he shouldn’t have joked about the OCD.
Calleigh glared like he’d done something wrong. Speed was filled with nervous energy… his locker. Ryan had seen his locker, was staring at it.
Speed’s mind was filled with trace analysis and Calleigh and Eric and Frank, little glimpses of Horatio through the glass, looking over Ryan’s shoulder from a distance. He hadn’t been expecting the gator though, or Calleigh laughing and calling him crazy as she re-holstered her firearm.
Ryan moaned in his arms, pressed further against him as he bared more of his neck. For a simple feeding, it was surprisingly erotic. His name fell from Ryan’s parted lips in a pleading gasp, nails digging into his back as he licked at the wounds he’d made.
And then Ryan was kissing him, fingers tugging at clothes, legs locked and holding Speed in place.
Lust washed over him. He wasn’t complaining.
-
It was so cold. Ryan shivered beneath his blankets and shifted closer to the body next to his. It was almost like ice, but more solid and a little warmer. Warmer than he felt at the moment, at least. It was kind of nice, if he didn’t think about it, and didn’t think about how weird the fabric felt on his skin…
Lifting the covers, he looked down at himself. Oh, yeah. He was naked. And he never went to bed naked. Not unless… How far had he been out of his mind last night, exactly? Because this was a new extreme, he thought, as he looked down at Speed’s naked body pressed snugly against his side.
When he’d agreed to be vampire food last night, he hadn’t thought it would lead to sex-induced amnesia. He didn’t see any proof, but that didn’t mean anything. If he couldn’t remember, how could he be sure?
His neck itched, and it felt kind of like a mosquito bite, only he knew it wasn’t. It was where Tim Speedle’s teeth had sunk into his flesh. And he was still alive; Speed hadn’t killed him. It was unlikely that he would, but the thought had crossed Ryan’s mind more than once.
Speed pulled him closer. Ryan’s breath caught in his throat. If he hadn’t known Speed was naked before, he definitely knew now.
“Speed?” he whispered into the near-darkness. It was almost time to get up for work. As he spoke, his breath formed as fog from his mouth. It was the middle of summer; it shouldn’t be that cold in his house. Not even in winter, unless he forgot to turn on his heater; felt kind of like he was in Boston again.
“Tim?” he tried again.
Speed shifted, the scruff of his beard scraping against Ryan’s collarbone and his hand rising to sit over Ryan’s heart. “Nn?” he moaned, not quite awake; he definitely didn’t want to get up - he hadn’t been this comfortable in a long time.
“What happened last night?” Ryan’s northern accent came out with a quiver that caused Speed to open his eyes and look down at the man who seemed more like a boy.
He took a deep breath. “What do you think happened?”
Ryan blinked up at him. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.” He scratched at the irritated spot on his neck again. Speed noticed, moved down to kiss the spot, but Ryan moved away. “Don’t. Last time you did that I blacked out.”
Speed just smiled at him. “You weren’t complaining, if I recall. In fact, you invited it.”
“I didn’t know it’d get sexual,” Ryan whispered with a blush, turning his eyes away.
The vampire looked shocked. “What?” And then he glanced beneath the covers too, coming back up with surprise written all over his face. “We… I… Do you feel any different?” he asked carefully.
Ryan shrugged, shifted. “I feel cold.”
“No. I mean, like… like you’ve had sex.”
Ryan gaped. “I’m not telling you that!”
“What? You want me to find out the hard way?” Speed moved his hand lower, ghosting over Ryan’s navel, down across his thigh.
“Whoa!” Ryan sat up abruptly, almost knocking heads with Speed, pulling the blanket closer to cover himself. The movement didn’t hurt, exactly, but it did send a certain jolt up his spine. Immediately, he covered his face with his hands. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “I think we did.” He shifted again, his eyes widening. “Oh, god!”
Speed was alert, slightly smirking and slightly alarmed. “What? Did you remember something?”
Ryan was shifting, like he couldn’t stop, and he was grimacing, frowning at Speed. “Not so much remembering as an innate sense of knowing,” he muttered. “Next time, try to remember the condom.”
“No, shit,” Speed exclaimed, obviously as surprised as Ryan. “You can… feel it?”
“Can we please not talk about this? You wouldn’t think so, but it’s incredibly embarrassing.” Ryan shied away from him, averting his eyes. “I think I need a shower now.”
Speed’s laughter rumbled deep in his chest. “At least you’re not completely freaking out about it.”
Ryan stuck his tongue out in a moment of childishness. “Would it be better if I was?”
“I don’t know,” Speed admitted. Looking up into green eyes, he was struck with sudden inspiration. “Hey, you mind if I try something? You know, while we’re both still aware and everything?”
Ryan frowned. “I don’t see why not,” he said slowly. “But what…”
Speed didn’t wait for him to finish, just pressed up against him and stole a kiss. When Ryan didn’t protest, he furthered it, angling his head for better leverage, and groaned when Ryan opened his mouth.
Suddenly, he was pushed away, gasping for breath, but Ryan’s hand didn’t leave his chest. “I have to get ready for work,” he whispered, licking his lips. Speed watched with a predator’s leer.
“Later?” Speed asked, kissing Ryan again.
Ryan laughed, wondering how he was going to get to the bathroom from his bed without showing too much skin. “It’s possible I’ve spoiled you.”
“Don’t worry,” Speed said, pressing his lips to Ryan’s neck. “There’s a lot more spoiling left to do.”
Ryan buried his head in his hands yet again. “Oh, god! I barely know you!”
“And yet you invited me into your house and fed me and gave me a place to sleep. I don’t think it matters anymore that you don’t really know me.”
“Can you stop kissing me for, like, a minute? Please?” Ryan laughed. “I’m going to be late for work.”
“Then go get ready,” Speed teased. “Of course, if you are late, you can always tell H you were with me.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that would go over real well. You’re supposed to be dead. Or did you forget?”
“You don’t like my cover story then stop delaying the inevitable. Or I’ll make you really late.”
“Okay, but can you turn around?”
Ryan sighed as he finally rose out of bed, walking down the hall to the bathroom. He had no idea how this had happened, what was going to happen down the line, but he was sure that he and Speed needed to talk when he got home later that night. He had a vampire living with him, a vampire that had just been a dead man who he had just replaced on Horatio’s team.
And they’d just had sex. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was now considered a permanent source of food for Speed. Ryan still wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
These days, he wasn’t sure about a lot of things. But Speed’s lips on his… that was something he could definitely live with.
Now if only he could remember last night.
-
A/N: I was actually thinking of doing a sequel, explaining some of the vampire things, how he came to be a vampire and such, and also bringing Eric into the loop. Unfortunately, I'm not sure about doing it as a "threesome" piece, or just have him as aware of Speed being undead and being with Ryan. As such, it is still in development.
I hope you enjoyed this.