Yay Crack!
Happy belated b-day to stardance!!
I finally managed to finish something. Words: 12,618! (This is why I'm having a hard time getting these out on time. -_-;; I just don't write that fast and these suckers are refusing to stay short...>_>;; So, to nikerymksherea, macteague, tsaiko, rykaine, and mechante_fille...I haven't forgotten you guys. I'm still working on getting yours to cooperate with me. ^_^;; *tackle glomps*)
There's a strong whiff of cheddar to the ending, but I hope you enjoy anyway. ^_^;;
The Ordinary Vampire
“That one!” George pointed excitedly, grabbing Tim’s arm and hugging it close.
“No,” Tim easily dismissed the delectable youngster George had spotted with his keen eye, “too thin.”
And all right, so maybe George had thought the same, but really, was that any reason for Tim poo-poo his suggestion? He thought not. “Oh, like you’re one to talk,” he snorted, ignoring the way Tim elbowed him in the stomach. “What about that one?” He pointed to a smartly dressed gentleman across the street. In any other town, seeing this many people out walking the streets this late at night might be a sign of a high crime rate, or a modern day Sodom and Gomorrah.
But in their town? Hell. This was normal. George would be more worried if no one was about.
“Hmm.” Tim eyed the snappily dressed young buck with his pseudo critical eye. “Maybe.”
“He’s perfect!”
“He’s wearing Prada,” Tim made a face. As if that were a bad thing, honestly. Ben, their neighbor and the entire purpose of this outing, dressed as if his closet was composed of nothing but scrubs and jeans. The poor man could use a little style in his life. Heavens knew that maybe with a little help, Ben would start appreciating the effort that George put into his ensembles. This cocktail gown was a vintage Versace. Miss Elvira, who could barely see out of her eyes, had recognized how gorgeous his dress was. Had Ben even batted an eyelash? George didn’t think so.
“So?”
“So, Ben doesn’t even know how to spell Prada let alone figure out what the hell it is,” Tim muttered, confirming George’s thoughts. “Too fussy for him,” he dismissed easily, though.
“Well no wonder he doesn’t have anyone,” George rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his hip and rounding on Tim. “If he’s half as picky as you, he never will.” Honestly, they were never going to get anywhere if Tim couldn’t settle on anyone. Ben needed a partner, and as his loving and caring neighbors, it was their duty to see to it that Ben ended up with someone good this time. And hot.
Maybe Miss Elvira had been right. Maybe they did need a hobby. Still, what more fun a hobby could they possibly find than interfering in their friends’ lives? He wasn’t going to be one of those dull retirees that played golf by moonlight and nattered on about the good old days. He and Tim were in their prime! These were the good old days. And this town needed them.
Ben needed them. Because heavens knew the lad couldn’t pick out his own lovers to save his life. After watching loser after loser come and go, George figured it was time that they intervened.
“There!” Tim whispered, accidentally groping George’s butt in his excitement, not that George minded. “That one!”
“What? Who? That fellow in the suit?” Well, it wasn’t designer, but George supposed that the fellow looked decent. Maybe not as well put together as the Prada gentleman, but less likely to intimidate Ben with his showiness.
“God no,” Tim shuddered and George frowned at him. “That one! The one looking in the bakery window.” Tim pointed excitedly.
There were no words. George’s mouth moved soundlessly for a few seconds before he finally managed, “…he’s a bum.”
“He is not. He’s perfect for someone like Ben. If I were twenty years younger, I might not have minded a go at him.”
George squinted, hoping that might make the bum look better or that he might figure out what it was that Tim was seeing, but no. The bum had shaggy yellow hair that was in desperate need of a comb. His jeans looked as if they hadn’t been washed in the last decade and he was wearing the most horrid looking plaid shirt that George had ever seen subjected to mankind.
“Thirty,” he corrected. Maybe if Tim hadn’t chosen the skuzziest man on the block, George would have cut him some slack. But Tim would have been fifty twenty years ago, and there was just no way. Not unless he was supporting the bum’s crack habit or something. “And he looks dirty.” Understatement of the year.
“Well of course he looks dirty,” Tim laughed, slinging an arm around George’s shoulders and pulling him close. “He’s a werewolf. They always look dirty when they’re in their homeless phase.” Tim waved vaguely.
“What in the hell makes you think he’s a werewolf?”
“He’s got that scruffy, hairy unkempt look. Plus, he’s got a grungy duffel bag. What else would he be?” Tim asked as if his conclusion were perfectly natural.
“Someone passing through,” George said, stating the obvious. He gave the man a dubious second glance. The bum would be taller than Ben and he had broader shoulders. His build was lanky, and he seemed to have horrible posture, what with the way he was slouched over and peering through the window, limbs all akimbo.
“Passing through in this town?” Tim snorted. “Not likely. His clothes are all well worn, too.”
George rolled his eyes. “You are so stereotyping. How do you know he isn’t a gargoyle or a vampire?” And why stop there? What prevented this chap from being an axe murder or something? Ben had already had enough bad luck with boyfriends without them adding to it.
“Please,” Tim scoffed, “your Prada boy was a gargoyle. They’ll do anything to cover up their rough spots. And vampire? Don’t make me laugh. For one, he isn’t wearing a speck of black.”
“Neither does Ben.”
“Ben’s the exception to the rule.”
“Then how do you know he isn’t, too?” Honestly, someone had to put these questions to Tim. George loved the man, but no one should be that naïve.
“He’s a werewolf,” Tim grinned, completely convinced. “Trust me.”
“That’s what you said when we tried to invade that banshee’s dream.”
“This is different.”
“Prove it,” George poked his hairless chest. God help him if Tim was actually right. He’d never hear the end of it. Still, with such blatantly obvious stereotyping, there was no way the bum was a werewolf. Besides, any self respecting werewolf would have been drooling in front of the butcher, not in front of the bakery.
“I’ll do you a step better,” Tim told him smugly. “Let’s go catch him for Ben.”
~*****~
Jacob was torn between laughing, crying, and pleading for his sanity to return.
Currently, he was tied up to a porch post with twine. He’d have protested that, but the gag in his mouth made talking a somewhat difficult affair.
At first, he’d been certain that his father had finally managed to track him down and hire thugs to forcibly make him return home. But no. That would have made some kind of sense.
As it was, some old guy in black leather pants that hung loosely off his nonexistent butt was dangling a sprig of wolfsbane in front of Jacob, making him dizzy. And while Jacob realized on a conscious level that one’s sex drive did not vanish into thin air with age, he wasn’t used to being confronted with it up close and personal. Seeing leather bondage gear on a seventy year old man that was currently tying him up was more than a little worrisome.
If not just a little surreal.
Leather Man’s partner in crime, Dress Man, was twisting his hands nervously. “Tim, hurry up! Ben’s going to be home soon.” If Leather Man had been a little worrisome, Dress Man was downright terrifying. He had on a red sequenced gown with a split that went all the way up his hairy thigh. Then, just in case the dress wasn’t dramatic enough, Dress Man had added red stiletto heels and a choker with a rose attached to it. And entirely too much make-up for a seventy year old man.
“Don’t get your pantyhose in a bunch. I’m almost done. All he needs now is a bow.” Leather Man put a big green Christmas bow on top of his head and tied the sprig of wolfsbane to the bow, leaving Jacob seeing two of Leather Man, which really was two, too many. Once that chore was accomplished, he wiggled his two hairy eyebrows before tweaking Jacob’s nose. “Good luck, Puppy.”
“Try not to mess it all up,” Dress Man added before attempting to artfully rearrange Jacob’s hair with long candy apple red acrylic fingernails. Jacob would have told him, if he weren’t trussed up like the Christmas turkey, that the effort was futile as he hadn’t had control over his hair since he’d hit puberty, but hell. Dress Man didn’t seem to give much of a damn. Besides that, Leather Man was looking impatient and grabbed Dress Man’s hand, pulling him back across the yard to the house across the way.
Man, Jacob really could have used a jelly doughnut with sprinkles. Or a chocolate éclair. There’d even been some nice croissants in the bakery window, too, that would have taken the edge of off getting kidnapped by two insane elderly people and tied to a complete stranger’s house.
His father had told him he’d come to a bad end, rejecting his inheritance and leaving home to forge his own way. And maybe, in the back of his mind, Jacob had suspected that he’d be right. But he sincerely doubted his father could have predicted this. Hell, it hadn’t even been among the top twenty ways that Jacob had envisioned himself. Getting gutted by someone he’d bummed a ride from? Sure. Starving to death or dying from exposure? Of course, that would have been expected.
To be brought down by two grandpas, a cocktail dress and wolfsbane? How the hell did one anticipate something like that?
Man, he’d have even settled for a simple glazed doughnut right about now. Sugar always made these sorts of situations seem better.
Thankfully, he didn’t have too long to wait, as a small compact car pulled up the drive. A dog started barking from inside the house, startling Jacob as the damned creature hadn’t made a peep when Leather Man had been wrestling and tying him down. The car circled to a stop in front of the porch and Jacob watched as a man got out, a cooler in one hand and keys in the other.
He was pretty. And the wolfsbane was beginning to rot Jacob’s brain.
The pretty was little shorter than Jacob himself maybe, but he had a trim frame, dark auburn hair and the pale skin that went with it. He was in scrubs, so Jacob assumed he was in some sort of medical profession.
On the upside, when Jacob overdosed on this stupid wolfsbane sprig, there would be someone there to resuscitate him.
He tried saying hello, forgetting that the gag was in the way. Although, for his efforts, the pretty man did look in his direction.
“What. The. Hell?”
The expression on his face was just priceless.
“What are you doing on my porch?” the pretty demanded, cautiously walking up and setting the cooler down on the front step before rounding on Jacob. “Who are you? Why are you tied to my porch? Who tied you--oh god no.” The pretty groaned, and ran a frustrated hand through his straight hair and then bent down to inspect the knots Leather Man had made in the twine. “This is the work of my neighbors,” he explained curtly, making Jacob wonder just how often this kind of thing occurred. “You just happen to be their hapless victim of circumstance for the month.” He made short work of the twine, and Jacob brought his hands back in front of him, rubbing his now sore wrists and sneezing as the wolfsbane fell off his head and onto the porch in front of him along with the bow. He jerked though, as the pretty’s hands went to the back of his head, presumably to undo the knot on the gag. “Although, I have no idea what they hoped to accomplish with a bow and a couple flowers.”
“Wolfsbane,” Jacob managed to choke out before entering another sneezing fit. “I’m allergic,” he wheezed slightly. Of course, allergic was a bit of an understatement, but then again, one just didn’t go around admitting that one was a werewolf. It just wasn’t done, as his mother tutted every time he brought his condition up to her. “Name’s Jacob,” he managed without sneezing again before he held out a hand which the pretty reluctantly shook.
“Ben,” the pretty admitted cautiously, before putting his key into the front door and unlocking it. Of course, once it swung open, the hell hound of the apocalypse shot through it, making a beeline for Jacob and almost tipping over the cooler in the process. Dog was definitely not an accurate way to describe her. Small horse or water buffalo might have been more apt. She was a solid black, and Jacob was too slow to keep her from licking half his head in one excited swipe. “Down, dumb dog,” Ben grumbled without any heat, grabbing the dog’s collar and pulling her back long enough for Jacob to gather some of his scattered wits and stand up. “Sorry about that. She was raised by werewolves and tends to forget at times that she’s not human.”
Jacob jerked at the mention of werewolves. He didn’t know how the neighbors had figured it out, but he sure wasn’t going to clue Ben in unless absolutely necessary. Besides, what normal self respecting person actually believed in werewolves? Well, aside from those that were actually werewolves, that was.
Either way, it was of the utmost importance to act normal. “Cute dog,” he attempted, scratching the happy dog behind the ears. “What’s her name?”
“Spot,” Ben said as he picked up his cooler and set it down just inside the house.
“But she doesn’t have any.”
“I know,” he returned defensively. “Look, I’m sorry that Tim and George tied you to my porch. They mean well, but they get carried away sometimes.”
“They are some kind of crazy.” He ambled up onto the porch. “But they still have my duffel bag. You wouldn’t have any idea how I could go about getting that back from them, would you?”
“How badly do you need the duffel?” Ben asked with a pained expression on his face.
“It’s got all my clothes, my money and my wallet in it.” Not to mention that it wasn’t always a good idea to stick around in one place for too long. It just gave his father too much of an opportunity to track him down. They were in a bit of a stalemate. Until his dad realized that he wasn’t going to buckle and join the family business, he was in an elaborate game of hide and seek. Which was much easier to play if he hid by running from obscure place to obscure place.
“God dammit.” Ben looked furious. He knew he shouldn’t be, but Jacob was amused by it. Ben just looked so put out and frustrated.
Harassed was actually a pretty good look for him. Jacob tried to keep the stupid grin off his face. Up close, Ben had dark brown eyes and two earrings in his left ear. He’d never, of course, go for a messed up kid like Jacob whose family hadn’t heard-let alone understood-the concept of space, but it was fun to pretend. Just a little. “You wanna come in?” Ben sighed as he opened the door farther and gestured Jacob in begrudgingly.
Trying not to grin, Jacob took it for the invitation that it was and followed the hell hound in. He might not be in any position to stick around, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t appreciate the view while he had the chance.
~*****~
Ben looked at the werewolf that Tim and George had left on his doorstep and tried not to panic. Honestly, he had no idea what the two had been thinking. Vampires and Werewolves? Traditionally, they did not get along. In fact, most meetings usually ended up with one or both parties dead.
And Spot, traitorous dog that she was, seemed to love this Jacob as she hadn’t left his side since she met him. “So,” he drawled out nervously as Jacob looked around the house with interest, “thirsty?” That was right, wasn’t it? Offering him a drink?
God damned, but he sucked at this. Hadn’t Kyle told him over and over that he was an awkward and uncomfortable host? People didn’t like coming over because of it and they certainly didn’t stay for that very reason.
Not to mention that Jacob hadn’t exactly been the most willing of guests to begin with.
“I’d love a glass of milk.” Jacob looked hopeful and Ben nodded, glad for once that he’d spent the extra money to pick up a gallon of the stuff. Really, the price of milk was exorbitant. Were they piping it in from Saudi Arabia? It was getting to be just as expensive as gas even.
Because if Jacob hadn’t been put off by the fact that his insane neighbors had tied him to a porch, then Ben was sure to win him over with his Scrooge impersonation. Rolling his eyes at himself, he gestured for Jacob to follow him into the kitchen.
Pulling out a chair as he made his way towards the cupboards, Ben nodded for Jacob to sit before he grabbed a cheap glass and opened the fridge. Placing the glass down in front of Jacob, he tried not to stare too obviously. Zahn, had enlightened him to that particular bad habit. Course, Zahn had enlightened him to a lot of his bad habits.
Zahn, though, and a couple of others, had shown him what he’d been too naïve to see as a kid. There were no happy endings in the future for guys like him.
Sneaking a peek, though, Ben couldn’t help a wistful smile. For a werewolf, Jacob wasn’t half bad. He had curly blond hair that flopped over in his face and he had incredibly pale blue eyes. He probably was one hell of a stunning wolf, not that Ben ever planned on getting close enough to see an actual transformation. He was a few dozen shades tanner than Ben, but then again since Ben never saw the light of day, that wasn’t all that strange.
“Man, I love milk,” Jacob grinned happily after he drained the glass in one go. “You wouldn’t happen to have any doughnuts, would you?”
It was stupid to feel regret over not having bought any doughnuts. Ben wasn’t a doughnut kind of guy. Besides, damn things cost an arm and a leg. “No,” he shrugged apologetically. “I don’t. Sorry.” Dammit, why had he never invested in doughnuts?
Then again, what the hell was he thinking? Tim and George were deranged. They were forever trying to set him up with men that they found loitering around town. But this? This was a new level of demented, even for them. There was no way that they’d actually managed to find someone who would want to be Ben’s boyfriend and then tied him to Ben’s front porch. That kind of thing just didn’t happen. Ever.
“I’ve got some left over turkey,” he offered hesitantly. He was merely being a good host. That’s what decent people did. They offered a drink and then some food to guests who came over. And all right, maybe Jacob’s sudden appearance at his house didn’t exactly qualify as coming over for a visit, but it was a matter of good manners.
He was not ogling the pretty eye candy. He was not hoping for more than polite disinterest. And he was not curious about what kind of person Tim and George had decided would be good for him. Because those things would only end in disaster, and he knew that from experience.
Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he’d come to believe it.
“That would be awesome,” Jacob said sheepishly. “I’m starving.”
“Well, I’ve got the makings for sandwiches.” Ben shrugged and started getting out all the fixings for it. Awkward silence descended, and Ben fidgeted as he handed Jacob a plate with a sandwich on it and refilled his glass with milk.
Kyle had hated it when Ben lapsed into silent fidgeting. Said it reminded him of a mute monkey. Zahn had always barked at him to speak the fuck up and quit cowering stupidly.
They were gone, though, and he was here. Jacob, for the most part, seemed oblivious. Sitting down with his own sandwich, Ben snuck a couple of glances in between bites. Jacob ate like he’d been starving, and maybe he had, as he did look pretty skinny. His clothes were dirty, and he had a scraggly beard that looked in good need of a shave.
And yet, in spite of all of that, he seemed completely at home in Ben’s kitchen, unaffected by the silence.
“So, how long have you known those two?” Jacob jolted him out of his thoughts as he finished off his sandwich.
“Tim and George? About seven years. I got a job over at the hospital when I got out of nursing school, and they welcomed me to the neighborhood.” Trying not to show how nervous all this was making him, Ben nonchalantly pulled out his chair and then almost fell on the floor when he tripped himself in the process. Kyle had complained about it incessantly. Klutzy was only attractive if you were a short adolescent girl. It wasn’t quite so attractive on a full grown male vampire.
It was even less attractive if you accidentally head-butted your partner in the middle of sex. He couldn’t help it though, his nerves always managed to find a way to get the best of him. Thankfully, Jacob didn’t make a big deal of his clumsiness and let the incident slide as Ben righted himself and sat down.
“I’ll bet that was one hell of a welcome to the neighborhood party. They certainly don’t look like the type to do things half way.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled self consciously, “they sure don’t.” They’d run a fake blood bank drive and gotten enough blood to keep him sated for a month and a half. It had been sweet, in an incredibly morally reprehensible and embarrassing way. “What about you? Where are you from? I could give you a ride home if you want and get your stuff from Tim and George when I see them tomorrow.” Because, oh boy, would he be seeing them tomorrow. Those two needed a hobby. One that preferably did not involve him or his nonexistent love life. Why couldn’t they just golf like any of the other normal senior citizens?
He appreciated their concern. Really, he did. He just didn’t need to be constantly reminded that he was alone and too unattractive to find his own dates.
“Ah,” Jacob looked sheepish, “I’m actually between homes at the moment.” He scratched the back of his neck self consciously.
“I don’t think I follow,” Ben frowned. Jacob mumbled something, but it was too soft for Ben to hear. “Pardon?”
“I’m homeless,” Jacob’s face colored considerably.
Oh.
OH.
“Well, that’s common when you’re just starting off as a werewolf,” he tried reassuring, “it’s hard to hold down a job when you have to request three days off each month.”
Jacob gaped at him. “What the? Am I wearing a necklace or something? A nametag that proclaims what I am? I mean, I don’t hide it real well, I guess, but still. This is creepy.” He looked so bewildered that Ben couldn’t help but snicker, which made Jacob frown.
“No, no. It’s just,” he tried, not wanting Jacob to get mad but not being able to stop smiling, “do you have any idea where you are?”
“What?”
“This town. It’s a stomping ground for pretty much any and every supernatural and mythical creature you can think up. Tim and George? They’re incubi.” Ben relaxed a little.
“Excuse me?”
“They’re incubi. There’s a little old lady down the street who’s half gargoyle and a family on the corner who’re gremlins,” he added thoughtfully. “Whole town’s full of the strange. If you’re looking for a place to settle down, this is quite nice.” And could he be any more insipid? His last ex, David, had hated that about him. People weren’t looking for ‘quite nice’, they were looking for exciting and fun. Good thing the chamber of commerce hadn’t had him draw up the tourism brochures.
Jacob leaned back in his chair, an arm wrapped over the back as he stared at Ben. At first, it didn’t bother him that much, but then he started getting paranoid. Was there something wrong with him? Well, besides the obvious things that all his exes had pointed out. Was his hair messed up? Did he have food stuck in his teeth? Had he gotten blood on his scrubs?
“Vampire,” Jacob snapped his fingers suddenly, grinning at Ben with a dimple in his cheek.
“Dammit, I’ve got blood on my scrubs, don’t I,” Ben mumbled, his face flushing in embarrassment. “I’ll go change.”
“No, no, there’s nothing on your scrubs,” Jacob laughed, catching him by the arm as he walked by. “I guessed. You had a cooler with you, and unless you plan on performing a transplant or something, the best explanation was that it was holding blood.”
“Right,” Ben mumbled, stumbling back to the front of the house, ignoring the fact that Jacob was following him. Grabbing the cooler, he turned around and almost jumped half a foot in the air as Jacob was standing right behind him, bracing an elbow on the door frame. “It’s on ice right now, but I’ve got to get it in the fridge.”
“They let you take blood home from the hospital? Isn’t that kind of frowned upon?”
“It’s old blood.”
“Huh?”
“Blood’s only good for about six weeks and then they can’t use it for transfusions. It still tastes fine to me for about another two or three days and then it’s a bit like drinking sour milk,” he tried not to squeak as Jacob leaned against the counter top by the fridge, invading Ben’s personal space. Yup, definitely a werewolf. The vast majority of them had a definite lack of understanding when it came to personal space. And this werewolf was definitely in his personal space. Quickly, he emptied the contents of the cooler into the fridge and then sat back down in a chair opposite the one Jacob had been sitting in.
“You work nights, then?” Jacob moved away from the counters, and thankfully sat down across from Ben.
“Yes.” After all, he was a vampire. Working during the day kind of involved death, and Ben wasn’t the world’s biggest fan of death. “What about you? What are your plans?”
“Plans?” There was a deer-in-the-headlight look to Jacob’s face.
“Yes, plans. You need one. While werewolves do wander around aimlessly in their youth trying to find a job, they still need one. Most usually end up going back home and getting together enough of a nest egg that they can keep themselves afloat should they ever find themselves between jobs.”
“I am not going home,” Jacob announced emphatically.
“Why not?” Well, Ben’s first ex, Kyle, had always said he was entirely too nosey for his own good.
“Because,” Jacob started off vaguely, his cheeks turning pink. “Fine. My parents are loaded and they’d be perfectly happy to loan me some money,” Jacob admitted slumping down in his chair.
“So the problem is?”
“They’ll only do it if I promise to become an accountant in my dad’s company.”
“And you don’t want to,” Ben said, piecing it together. “Is it really so bad?”
“No,” Jacob sighed, “I guess not. It’s just stifling. And completely uninteresting. I don’t know, isn’t the point of being an adult taking care of yourself and finding your own path to follow? Kind of defeats the purpose if you turn into a fifty year old accountant who gets paid to do what mommy and daddy say.”
“Wandering around aimlessly doesn’t exactly help you find the right path, either though.” Ben frowned. “You need a plan. Something to keep you on your feet and protected in case something comes along and happens. It’s one thing to have no where to go when you’re healthy and young. What about when you get sick or as you get older?” His parents had booted him out at eighteen, telling him to fend for himself. Luckily, he’d managed some scholarships, gotten some loans-some of which he was still paying off-and had been on his own since. Still, he’d made a great many mistakes along the way that he wished he could take back. “I could help,” he heard himself offer before his brain could stop his mouth from responding.
“Really?”
Damn Jacob for looking hopeful. And somewhat wholesome. Really, Ben had the worst taste in men, and damn Tim and George for finding someone to continue the trend. “Yeah,” he finally sighed, “Pete’s Pet Emporium is looking for full time help. Russell will understand your needing days off for the full, and he’ll make sure to work around them.”
“Russell?”
“He owns the place.”
“Russell owns Pete’s Pet Emporium? What happened to Pete?”
“There’s no Pete,” Ben explained. “Russell just thought Pete’s Pet Emporium sounded catchier. You’ll have to wait till tomorrow night though. He’s open from three in the afternoon until three in the morning.”
“Huh.” Jacob looked like he wanted to laugh. “I’ll have to do that. Thanks.” He smiled again, the dimple popping into appearance. “Is this town big enough to have a homeless shelter? Or do you know of any cheap motels I could try?”
When Tim and George had his wallet? No, Ben didn’t know of any place that would let him stay for free. And this town was entirely too small for the homeless. “You can stay here,” he said slowly, thinking it over. “I’ve got a guest room with an attached bath you can have for the moment,” he offered, hoping to hell he wouldn’t regret it later. His last ex, David, would look hopefully pathetic like that over something until Ben inevitably caved, and then he’d clean out Ben’s bank account.
But Ben was smarter now. More savvy. Or, at least, that’s what he wanted to believe. That side of the house, Ben vowed, would be where Jacob stayed. Yes, maybe somewhere deep, deep down in the terrified recesses of his heart, he wanted something like what Tim and George had. But he’d learned how to be cautious the hard way from his exes. He just wasn’t the kind of guy someone could fall in love with. Men only found him interesting if they had an ulterior motive. Besides, Jacob wouldn’t even want anything of that nature from him anyway. He’d be Jacob’s friend, but he wasn’t going to hold out hope for anything else, let alone true love.
Hell, he half suspected it didn’t exist in the first place anyway.
~*****~
“Ten dollars a day,” George offered, shoving a wrinkled bill into Jacob’s astonished hands.
“Excuse me?” The entire town was cracked, that was the only explanation. Pete’s Pet Emporium had ended up being part pet shop and part coffee shop, which was fine, but Russell had given him the third degree the minute he’d brought up Ben’s name. Over protective didn’t even seem to cover it. He’d even given Jacob a pay advance with the explicit instructions for Jacob to use it to find an apartment and, as Russell had put it, ‘get the hell out of that sweet vampire’s house’.
Jealousy would have been a decent explanation, too, if it weren’t for the fact that Russell was in his fifties and had the walls of his office plastered with pictures of his wife and kids. Plus, he’d pretty much come out and said that Ben was like a son to him.
Fact of the matter was, though, Ben was the only person that Jacob had come into contact with so far that even seemed remotely down to earth. And as much as his comments had stung, Jacob had seen the common sense in them. If he stayed continually on the run, then he might as well just tuck his tail in between his legs and run home. Nothing was going to be accomplished unless he got up the courage to put down roots somewhere and give it a try.
So what if his father sent thugs? It wasn’t like he was a scared and unruly teenager anymore. It was about time he proved to them and to himself that he was more than that, and that he could be more than that without their interfering and trying to fix things up for him.
It was odd to come to such a fundamental realization when nothing else in this town seemed to follow the fundamental rules of anything. Here was Dress Man, without his sidekick Leather Man, offering him money. “Look, I know Russell’s given you an advance and I can’t compete with that kind of cash. But ten dollars a day and you can just save until you can get a really nice apartment if that’s what you want.”
“You want me to stay with Ben?”
“Yes,” George pouted, “the poor boy’s lonely.”
“He’s got a dog.” Which was to say that Ben probably didn’t need another stray mongrel cluttering up his life.
“There a lot of things a dog can’t do. Just stick around a couple more days and see what you think.”
“I dunno. I’m only staying here because Ben was kind enough to let me. I don’t want to take advantage of his good nature.”
“That’s great!” George beamed, confusing the hell out of Jacob. “So, stay a couple more days. You could do a lot worse than someone like Ben.”
Jacob blinked. As if Ben would want a backwards wastrel like him. He didn’t exactly have a lot to offer. He was virtually penniless, had just gotten his first job, and had all the experience of a newborn pup. Truth be told, he would have gotten an apartment today and put an end to all the nonsense, except that this was a small town. And currently? There were no vacancies. Short of buying the haunted mansion on the corner of main street-which he had absolutely no intention of doing as it looked like there was still a ghost living in it-there was no place available for him to rent within walking distance of his new job. “Um, I think I’ll just work it out with--”
“Eep!” George squealed like an adolescent school girl and thus becoming something that Jacob was sure he’d have nightmares over. “He’s back! Good luck, Pup!” He slapped Jacob on the back, sending him careening forward. And then, George booked it back across the yard to his house leaving Jacob to marvel at how fast he could haul ass in three inch heels.
And sure enough, there was Ben pulling up the drive in his car. Leaning back against the porch railings, Jacob waited for him to climb out of the car and make his way over to the house.
“Back again, huh?” Ben offered him a shy half smile, which Jacob had no problems returning as he offered a hand to carry the cooler. “Why didn’t you let yourself in?”
Jacob grinned as Ben looked at him askance. “Cause I don’t have a key. Besides, I wasn’t sure how welcome I’d be. I mean, I did kinda just crash in on you last night.”
“Oh,” Ben shrugged, unconcerned. “My hide-a-key’s in the plastic dog doo there. I just assumed that Tim or George would’ve told you when they saw you on the porch. Plus, everyone in town knows it’s there.” Picking up the pile, he flipped it over to demonstrate.
“Cute,” Jacob snickered. Geez, he left home, and he was still more of a kid than ever. Of course, from the way Ben grinned back, maybe it wasn’t so bad. “Don’t you worry about people getting in though?”
Course, if they did come in without Ben’s permission, Jacob imagined that half the town would be there to tar and feather them. He’d had a difficult time trying to open a bank account once word got around that he was currently staying at Ben’s.
“Well, my last ex, David, used it to pretty much take me for everything I had, but,” Ben shrugged again, some of his good mood dissipating at the mention of his ex. “He got pretty much anything that was worth taking.”
That was most certainly debatable, Jacob decided as he tried to remind himself not to stare at Ben’s ass as he opened the front door.
Spot came barreling out the front door, barking up a storm, and Jacob pulled his cowboy hat off his head to laugh as the dog raced clumsily all the way to the mailbox before squatting to pee.
“Big, dumb dog,” Ben shook his head, but his mouth was curved up in the corners. Grinning, Jacob walked over; slapping his hat over Ben’s head and leaning against the house next to him to wait as Spot came loping back like a moose with a balance problem.
“Who’s a good girl?” Jacob cooed at the dog as she jumped up on him, her paws on his shoulders. “Who’s a good girl? Is Spot a good girl?” The dog bayed practically in his ear, rendering him deaf for half a second. “Yes, you’re a good girl. Loud, but good.” He pushed her down with his free hand, before turning to follow Ben back into the house.
He grinned. The hat didn’t look half bad on Ben.
_____
Thus endth part one as LJ is a whore and won't let me post the whole thing in one go...
I finally managed to finish something. Words: 12,618! (This is why I'm having a hard time getting these out on time. -_-;; I just don't write that fast and these suckers are refusing to stay short...>_>;; So, to nikerymksherea, macteague, tsaiko, rykaine, and mechante_fille...I haven't forgotten you guys. I'm still working on getting yours to cooperate with me. ^_^;; *tackle glomps*)
There's a strong whiff of cheddar to the ending, but I hope you enjoy anyway. ^_^;;
The Ordinary Vampire
“That one!” George pointed excitedly, grabbing Tim’s arm and hugging it close.
“No,” Tim easily dismissed the delectable youngster George had spotted with his keen eye, “too thin.”
And all right, so maybe George had thought the same, but really, was that any reason for Tim poo-poo his suggestion? He thought not. “Oh, like you’re one to talk,” he snorted, ignoring the way Tim elbowed him in the stomach. “What about that one?” He pointed to a smartly dressed gentleman across the street. In any other town, seeing this many people out walking the streets this late at night might be a sign of a high crime rate, or a modern day Sodom and Gomorrah.
But in their town? Hell. This was normal. George would be more worried if no one was about.
“Hmm.” Tim eyed the snappily dressed young buck with his pseudo critical eye. “Maybe.”
“He’s perfect!”
“He’s wearing Prada,” Tim made a face. As if that were a bad thing, honestly. Ben, their neighbor and the entire purpose of this outing, dressed as if his closet was composed of nothing but scrubs and jeans. The poor man could use a little style in his life. Heavens knew that maybe with a little help, Ben would start appreciating the effort that George put into his ensembles. This cocktail gown was a vintage Versace. Miss Elvira, who could barely see out of her eyes, had recognized how gorgeous his dress was. Had Ben even batted an eyelash? George didn’t think so.
“So?”
“So, Ben doesn’t even know how to spell Prada let alone figure out what the hell it is,” Tim muttered, confirming George’s thoughts. “Too fussy for him,” he dismissed easily, though.
“Well no wonder he doesn’t have anyone,” George rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his hip and rounding on Tim. “If he’s half as picky as you, he never will.” Honestly, they were never going to get anywhere if Tim couldn’t settle on anyone. Ben needed a partner, and as his loving and caring neighbors, it was their duty to see to it that Ben ended up with someone good this time. And hot.
Maybe Miss Elvira had been right. Maybe they did need a hobby. Still, what more fun a hobby could they possibly find than interfering in their friends’ lives? He wasn’t going to be one of those dull retirees that played golf by moonlight and nattered on about the good old days. He and Tim were in their prime! These were the good old days. And this town needed them.
Ben needed them. Because heavens knew the lad couldn’t pick out his own lovers to save his life. After watching loser after loser come and go, George figured it was time that they intervened.
“There!” Tim whispered, accidentally groping George’s butt in his excitement, not that George minded. “That one!”
“What? Who? That fellow in the suit?” Well, it wasn’t designer, but George supposed that the fellow looked decent. Maybe not as well put together as the Prada gentleman, but less likely to intimidate Ben with his showiness.
“God no,” Tim shuddered and George frowned at him. “That one! The one looking in the bakery window.” Tim pointed excitedly.
There were no words. George’s mouth moved soundlessly for a few seconds before he finally managed, “…he’s a bum.”
“He is not. He’s perfect for someone like Ben. If I were twenty years younger, I might not have minded a go at him.”
George squinted, hoping that might make the bum look better or that he might figure out what it was that Tim was seeing, but no. The bum had shaggy yellow hair that was in desperate need of a comb. His jeans looked as if they hadn’t been washed in the last decade and he was wearing the most horrid looking plaid shirt that George had ever seen subjected to mankind.
“Thirty,” he corrected. Maybe if Tim hadn’t chosen the skuzziest man on the block, George would have cut him some slack. But Tim would have been fifty twenty years ago, and there was just no way. Not unless he was supporting the bum’s crack habit or something. “And he looks dirty.” Understatement of the year.
“Well of course he looks dirty,” Tim laughed, slinging an arm around George’s shoulders and pulling him close. “He’s a werewolf. They always look dirty when they’re in their homeless phase.” Tim waved vaguely.
“What in the hell makes you think he’s a werewolf?”
“He’s got that scruffy, hairy unkempt look. Plus, he’s got a grungy duffel bag. What else would he be?” Tim asked as if his conclusion were perfectly natural.
“Someone passing through,” George said, stating the obvious. He gave the man a dubious second glance. The bum would be taller than Ben and he had broader shoulders. His build was lanky, and he seemed to have horrible posture, what with the way he was slouched over and peering through the window, limbs all akimbo.
“Passing through in this town?” Tim snorted. “Not likely. His clothes are all well worn, too.”
George rolled his eyes. “You are so stereotyping. How do you know he isn’t a gargoyle or a vampire?” And why stop there? What prevented this chap from being an axe murder or something? Ben had already had enough bad luck with boyfriends without them adding to it.
“Please,” Tim scoffed, “your Prada boy was a gargoyle. They’ll do anything to cover up their rough spots. And vampire? Don’t make me laugh. For one, he isn’t wearing a speck of black.”
“Neither does Ben.”
“Ben’s the exception to the rule.”
“Then how do you know he isn’t, too?” Honestly, someone had to put these questions to Tim. George loved the man, but no one should be that naïve.
“He’s a werewolf,” Tim grinned, completely convinced. “Trust me.”
“That’s what you said when we tried to invade that banshee’s dream.”
“This is different.”
“Prove it,” George poked his hairless chest. God help him if Tim was actually right. He’d never hear the end of it. Still, with such blatantly obvious stereotyping, there was no way the bum was a werewolf. Besides, any self respecting werewolf would have been drooling in front of the butcher, not in front of the bakery.
“I’ll do you a step better,” Tim told him smugly. “Let’s go catch him for Ben.”
~*****~
Jacob was torn between laughing, crying, and pleading for his sanity to return.
Currently, he was tied up to a porch post with twine. He’d have protested that, but the gag in his mouth made talking a somewhat difficult affair.
At first, he’d been certain that his father had finally managed to track him down and hire thugs to forcibly make him return home. But no. That would have made some kind of sense.
As it was, some old guy in black leather pants that hung loosely off his nonexistent butt was dangling a sprig of wolfsbane in front of Jacob, making him dizzy. And while Jacob realized on a conscious level that one’s sex drive did not vanish into thin air with age, he wasn’t used to being confronted with it up close and personal. Seeing leather bondage gear on a seventy year old man that was currently tying him up was more than a little worrisome.
If not just a little surreal.
Leather Man’s partner in crime, Dress Man, was twisting his hands nervously. “Tim, hurry up! Ben’s going to be home soon.” If Leather Man had been a little worrisome, Dress Man was downright terrifying. He had on a red sequenced gown with a split that went all the way up his hairy thigh. Then, just in case the dress wasn’t dramatic enough, Dress Man had added red stiletto heels and a choker with a rose attached to it. And entirely too much make-up for a seventy year old man.
“Don’t get your pantyhose in a bunch. I’m almost done. All he needs now is a bow.” Leather Man put a big green Christmas bow on top of his head and tied the sprig of wolfsbane to the bow, leaving Jacob seeing two of Leather Man, which really was two, too many. Once that chore was accomplished, he wiggled his two hairy eyebrows before tweaking Jacob’s nose. “Good luck, Puppy.”
“Try not to mess it all up,” Dress Man added before attempting to artfully rearrange Jacob’s hair with long candy apple red acrylic fingernails. Jacob would have told him, if he weren’t trussed up like the Christmas turkey, that the effort was futile as he hadn’t had control over his hair since he’d hit puberty, but hell. Dress Man didn’t seem to give much of a damn. Besides that, Leather Man was looking impatient and grabbed Dress Man’s hand, pulling him back across the yard to the house across the way.
Man, Jacob really could have used a jelly doughnut with sprinkles. Or a chocolate éclair. There’d even been some nice croissants in the bakery window, too, that would have taken the edge of off getting kidnapped by two insane elderly people and tied to a complete stranger’s house.
His father had told him he’d come to a bad end, rejecting his inheritance and leaving home to forge his own way. And maybe, in the back of his mind, Jacob had suspected that he’d be right. But he sincerely doubted his father could have predicted this. Hell, it hadn’t even been among the top twenty ways that Jacob had envisioned himself. Getting gutted by someone he’d bummed a ride from? Sure. Starving to death or dying from exposure? Of course, that would have been expected.
To be brought down by two grandpas, a cocktail dress and wolfsbane? How the hell did one anticipate something like that?
Man, he’d have even settled for a simple glazed doughnut right about now. Sugar always made these sorts of situations seem better.
Thankfully, he didn’t have too long to wait, as a small compact car pulled up the drive. A dog started barking from inside the house, startling Jacob as the damned creature hadn’t made a peep when Leather Man had been wrestling and tying him down. The car circled to a stop in front of the porch and Jacob watched as a man got out, a cooler in one hand and keys in the other.
He was pretty. And the wolfsbane was beginning to rot Jacob’s brain.
The pretty was little shorter than Jacob himself maybe, but he had a trim frame, dark auburn hair and the pale skin that went with it. He was in scrubs, so Jacob assumed he was in some sort of medical profession.
On the upside, when Jacob overdosed on this stupid wolfsbane sprig, there would be someone there to resuscitate him.
He tried saying hello, forgetting that the gag was in the way. Although, for his efforts, the pretty man did look in his direction.
“What. The. Hell?”
The expression on his face was just priceless.
“What are you doing on my porch?” the pretty demanded, cautiously walking up and setting the cooler down on the front step before rounding on Jacob. “Who are you? Why are you tied to my porch? Who tied you--oh god no.” The pretty groaned, and ran a frustrated hand through his straight hair and then bent down to inspect the knots Leather Man had made in the twine. “This is the work of my neighbors,” he explained curtly, making Jacob wonder just how often this kind of thing occurred. “You just happen to be their hapless victim of circumstance for the month.” He made short work of the twine, and Jacob brought his hands back in front of him, rubbing his now sore wrists and sneezing as the wolfsbane fell off his head and onto the porch in front of him along with the bow. He jerked though, as the pretty’s hands went to the back of his head, presumably to undo the knot on the gag. “Although, I have no idea what they hoped to accomplish with a bow and a couple flowers.”
“Wolfsbane,” Jacob managed to choke out before entering another sneezing fit. “I’m allergic,” he wheezed slightly. Of course, allergic was a bit of an understatement, but then again, one just didn’t go around admitting that one was a werewolf. It just wasn’t done, as his mother tutted every time he brought his condition up to her. “Name’s Jacob,” he managed without sneezing again before he held out a hand which the pretty reluctantly shook.
“Ben,” the pretty admitted cautiously, before putting his key into the front door and unlocking it. Of course, once it swung open, the hell hound of the apocalypse shot through it, making a beeline for Jacob and almost tipping over the cooler in the process. Dog was definitely not an accurate way to describe her. Small horse or water buffalo might have been more apt. She was a solid black, and Jacob was too slow to keep her from licking half his head in one excited swipe. “Down, dumb dog,” Ben grumbled without any heat, grabbing the dog’s collar and pulling her back long enough for Jacob to gather some of his scattered wits and stand up. “Sorry about that. She was raised by werewolves and tends to forget at times that she’s not human.”
Jacob jerked at the mention of werewolves. He didn’t know how the neighbors had figured it out, but he sure wasn’t going to clue Ben in unless absolutely necessary. Besides, what normal self respecting person actually believed in werewolves? Well, aside from those that were actually werewolves, that was.
Either way, it was of the utmost importance to act normal. “Cute dog,” he attempted, scratching the happy dog behind the ears. “What’s her name?”
“Spot,” Ben said as he picked up his cooler and set it down just inside the house.
“But she doesn’t have any.”
“I know,” he returned defensively. “Look, I’m sorry that Tim and George tied you to my porch. They mean well, but they get carried away sometimes.”
“They are some kind of crazy.” He ambled up onto the porch. “But they still have my duffel bag. You wouldn’t have any idea how I could go about getting that back from them, would you?”
“How badly do you need the duffel?” Ben asked with a pained expression on his face.
“It’s got all my clothes, my money and my wallet in it.” Not to mention that it wasn’t always a good idea to stick around in one place for too long. It just gave his father too much of an opportunity to track him down. They were in a bit of a stalemate. Until his dad realized that he wasn’t going to buckle and join the family business, he was in an elaborate game of hide and seek. Which was much easier to play if he hid by running from obscure place to obscure place.
“God dammit.” Ben looked furious. He knew he shouldn’t be, but Jacob was amused by it. Ben just looked so put out and frustrated.
Harassed was actually a pretty good look for him. Jacob tried to keep the stupid grin off his face. Up close, Ben had dark brown eyes and two earrings in his left ear. He’d never, of course, go for a messed up kid like Jacob whose family hadn’t heard-let alone understood-the concept of space, but it was fun to pretend. Just a little. “You wanna come in?” Ben sighed as he opened the door farther and gestured Jacob in begrudgingly.
Trying not to grin, Jacob took it for the invitation that it was and followed the hell hound in. He might not be in any position to stick around, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t appreciate the view while he had the chance.
~*****~
Ben looked at the werewolf that Tim and George had left on his doorstep and tried not to panic. Honestly, he had no idea what the two had been thinking. Vampires and Werewolves? Traditionally, they did not get along. In fact, most meetings usually ended up with one or both parties dead.
And Spot, traitorous dog that she was, seemed to love this Jacob as she hadn’t left his side since she met him. “So,” he drawled out nervously as Jacob looked around the house with interest, “thirsty?” That was right, wasn’t it? Offering him a drink?
God damned, but he sucked at this. Hadn’t Kyle told him over and over that he was an awkward and uncomfortable host? People didn’t like coming over because of it and they certainly didn’t stay for that very reason.
Not to mention that Jacob hadn’t exactly been the most willing of guests to begin with.
“I’d love a glass of milk.” Jacob looked hopeful and Ben nodded, glad for once that he’d spent the extra money to pick up a gallon of the stuff. Really, the price of milk was exorbitant. Were they piping it in from Saudi Arabia? It was getting to be just as expensive as gas even.
Because if Jacob hadn’t been put off by the fact that his insane neighbors had tied him to a porch, then Ben was sure to win him over with his Scrooge impersonation. Rolling his eyes at himself, he gestured for Jacob to follow him into the kitchen.
Pulling out a chair as he made his way towards the cupboards, Ben nodded for Jacob to sit before he grabbed a cheap glass and opened the fridge. Placing the glass down in front of Jacob, he tried not to stare too obviously. Zahn, had enlightened him to that particular bad habit. Course, Zahn had enlightened him to a lot of his bad habits.
Zahn, though, and a couple of others, had shown him what he’d been too naïve to see as a kid. There were no happy endings in the future for guys like him.
Sneaking a peek, though, Ben couldn’t help a wistful smile. For a werewolf, Jacob wasn’t half bad. He had curly blond hair that flopped over in his face and he had incredibly pale blue eyes. He probably was one hell of a stunning wolf, not that Ben ever planned on getting close enough to see an actual transformation. He was a few dozen shades tanner than Ben, but then again since Ben never saw the light of day, that wasn’t all that strange.
“Man, I love milk,” Jacob grinned happily after he drained the glass in one go. “You wouldn’t happen to have any doughnuts, would you?”
It was stupid to feel regret over not having bought any doughnuts. Ben wasn’t a doughnut kind of guy. Besides, damn things cost an arm and a leg. “No,” he shrugged apologetically. “I don’t. Sorry.” Dammit, why had he never invested in doughnuts?
Then again, what the hell was he thinking? Tim and George were deranged. They were forever trying to set him up with men that they found loitering around town. But this? This was a new level of demented, even for them. There was no way that they’d actually managed to find someone who would want to be Ben’s boyfriend and then tied him to Ben’s front porch. That kind of thing just didn’t happen. Ever.
“I’ve got some left over turkey,” he offered hesitantly. He was merely being a good host. That’s what decent people did. They offered a drink and then some food to guests who came over. And all right, maybe Jacob’s sudden appearance at his house didn’t exactly qualify as coming over for a visit, but it was a matter of good manners.
He was not ogling the pretty eye candy. He was not hoping for more than polite disinterest. And he was not curious about what kind of person Tim and George had decided would be good for him. Because those things would only end in disaster, and he knew that from experience.
Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he’d come to believe it.
“That would be awesome,” Jacob said sheepishly. “I’m starving.”
“Well, I’ve got the makings for sandwiches.” Ben shrugged and started getting out all the fixings for it. Awkward silence descended, and Ben fidgeted as he handed Jacob a plate with a sandwich on it and refilled his glass with milk.
Kyle had hated it when Ben lapsed into silent fidgeting. Said it reminded him of a mute monkey. Zahn had always barked at him to speak the fuck up and quit cowering stupidly.
They were gone, though, and he was here. Jacob, for the most part, seemed oblivious. Sitting down with his own sandwich, Ben snuck a couple of glances in between bites. Jacob ate like he’d been starving, and maybe he had, as he did look pretty skinny. His clothes were dirty, and he had a scraggly beard that looked in good need of a shave.
And yet, in spite of all of that, he seemed completely at home in Ben’s kitchen, unaffected by the silence.
“So, how long have you known those two?” Jacob jolted him out of his thoughts as he finished off his sandwich.
“Tim and George? About seven years. I got a job over at the hospital when I got out of nursing school, and they welcomed me to the neighborhood.” Trying not to show how nervous all this was making him, Ben nonchalantly pulled out his chair and then almost fell on the floor when he tripped himself in the process. Kyle had complained about it incessantly. Klutzy was only attractive if you were a short adolescent girl. It wasn’t quite so attractive on a full grown male vampire.
It was even less attractive if you accidentally head-butted your partner in the middle of sex. He couldn’t help it though, his nerves always managed to find a way to get the best of him. Thankfully, Jacob didn’t make a big deal of his clumsiness and let the incident slide as Ben righted himself and sat down.
“I’ll bet that was one hell of a welcome to the neighborhood party. They certainly don’t look like the type to do things half way.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled self consciously, “they sure don’t.” They’d run a fake blood bank drive and gotten enough blood to keep him sated for a month and a half. It had been sweet, in an incredibly morally reprehensible and embarrassing way. “What about you? Where are you from? I could give you a ride home if you want and get your stuff from Tim and George when I see them tomorrow.” Because, oh boy, would he be seeing them tomorrow. Those two needed a hobby. One that preferably did not involve him or his nonexistent love life. Why couldn’t they just golf like any of the other normal senior citizens?
He appreciated their concern. Really, he did. He just didn’t need to be constantly reminded that he was alone and too unattractive to find his own dates.
“Ah,” Jacob looked sheepish, “I’m actually between homes at the moment.” He scratched the back of his neck self consciously.
“I don’t think I follow,” Ben frowned. Jacob mumbled something, but it was too soft for Ben to hear. “Pardon?”
“I’m homeless,” Jacob’s face colored considerably.
Oh.
OH.
“Well, that’s common when you’re just starting off as a werewolf,” he tried reassuring, “it’s hard to hold down a job when you have to request three days off each month.”
Jacob gaped at him. “What the? Am I wearing a necklace or something? A nametag that proclaims what I am? I mean, I don’t hide it real well, I guess, but still. This is creepy.” He looked so bewildered that Ben couldn’t help but snicker, which made Jacob frown.
“No, no. It’s just,” he tried, not wanting Jacob to get mad but not being able to stop smiling, “do you have any idea where you are?”
“What?”
“This town. It’s a stomping ground for pretty much any and every supernatural and mythical creature you can think up. Tim and George? They’re incubi.” Ben relaxed a little.
“Excuse me?”
“They’re incubi. There’s a little old lady down the street who’s half gargoyle and a family on the corner who’re gremlins,” he added thoughtfully. “Whole town’s full of the strange. If you’re looking for a place to settle down, this is quite nice.” And could he be any more insipid? His last ex, David, had hated that about him. People weren’t looking for ‘quite nice’, they were looking for exciting and fun. Good thing the chamber of commerce hadn’t had him draw up the tourism brochures.
Jacob leaned back in his chair, an arm wrapped over the back as he stared at Ben. At first, it didn’t bother him that much, but then he started getting paranoid. Was there something wrong with him? Well, besides the obvious things that all his exes had pointed out. Was his hair messed up? Did he have food stuck in his teeth? Had he gotten blood on his scrubs?
“Vampire,” Jacob snapped his fingers suddenly, grinning at Ben with a dimple in his cheek.
“Dammit, I’ve got blood on my scrubs, don’t I,” Ben mumbled, his face flushing in embarrassment. “I’ll go change.”
“No, no, there’s nothing on your scrubs,” Jacob laughed, catching him by the arm as he walked by. “I guessed. You had a cooler with you, and unless you plan on performing a transplant or something, the best explanation was that it was holding blood.”
“Right,” Ben mumbled, stumbling back to the front of the house, ignoring the fact that Jacob was following him. Grabbing the cooler, he turned around and almost jumped half a foot in the air as Jacob was standing right behind him, bracing an elbow on the door frame. “It’s on ice right now, but I’ve got to get it in the fridge.”
“They let you take blood home from the hospital? Isn’t that kind of frowned upon?”
“It’s old blood.”
“Huh?”
“Blood’s only good for about six weeks and then they can’t use it for transfusions. It still tastes fine to me for about another two or three days and then it’s a bit like drinking sour milk,” he tried not to squeak as Jacob leaned against the counter top by the fridge, invading Ben’s personal space. Yup, definitely a werewolf. The vast majority of them had a definite lack of understanding when it came to personal space. And this werewolf was definitely in his personal space. Quickly, he emptied the contents of the cooler into the fridge and then sat back down in a chair opposite the one Jacob had been sitting in.
“You work nights, then?” Jacob moved away from the counters, and thankfully sat down across from Ben.
“Yes.” After all, he was a vampire. Working during the day kind of involved death, and Ben wasn’t the world’s biggest fan of death. “What about you? What are your plans?”
“Plans?” There was a deer-in-the-headlight look to Jacob’s face.
“Yes, plans. You need one. While werewolves do wander around aimlessly in their youth trying to find a job, they still need one. Most usually end up going back home and getting together enough of a nest egg that they can keep themselves afloat should they ever find themselves between jobs.”
“I am not going home,” Jacob announced emphatically.
“Why not?” Well, Ben’s first ex, Kyle, had always said he was entirely too nosey for his own good.
“Because,” Jacob started off vaguely, his cheeks turning pink. “Fine. My parents are loaded and they’d be perfectly happy to loan me some money,” Jacob admitted slumping down in his chair.
“So the problem is?”
“They’ll only do it if I promise to become an accountant in my dad’s company.”
“And you don’t want to,” Ben said, piecing it together. “Is it really so bad?”
“No,” Jacob sighed, “I guess not. It’s just stifling. And completely uninteresting. I don’t know, isn’t the point of being an adult taking care of yourself and finding your own path to follow? Kind of defeats the purpose if you turn into a fifty year old accountant who gets paid to do what mommy and daddy say.”
“Wandering around aimlessly doesn’t exactly help you find the right path, either though.” Ben frowned. “You need a plan. Something to keep you on your feet and protected in case something comes along and happens. It’s one thing to have no where to go when you’re healthy and young. What about when you get sick or as you get older?” His parents had booted him out at eighteen, telling him to fend for himself. Luckily, he’d managed some scholarships, gotten some loans-some of which he was still paying off-and had been on his own since. Still, he’d made a great many mistakes along the way that he wished he could take back. “I could help,” he heard himself offer before his brain could stop his mouth from responding.
“Really?”
Damn Jacob for looking hopeful. And somewhat wholesome. Really, Ben had the worst taste in men, and damn Tim and George for finding someone to continue the trend. “Yeah,” he finally sighed, “Pete’s Pet Emporium is looking for full time help. Russell will understand your needing days off for the full, and he’ll make sure to work around them.”
“Russell?”
“He owns the place.”
“Russell owns Pete’s Pet Emporium? What happened to Pete?”
“There’s no Pete,” Ben explained. “Russell just thought Pete’s Pet Emporium sounded catchier. You’ll have to wait till tomorrow night though. He’s open from three in the afternoon until three in the morning.”
“Huh.” Jacob looked like he wanted to laugh. “I’ll have to do that. Thanks.” He smiled again, the dimple popping into appearance. “Is this town big enough to have a homeless shelter? Or do you know of any cheap motels I could try?”
When Tim and George had his wallet? No, Ben didn’t know of any place that would let him stay for free. And this town was entirely too small for the homeless. “You can stay here,” he said slowly, thinking it over. “I’ve got a guest room with an attached bath you can have for the moment,” he offered, hoping to hell he wouldn’t regret it later. His last ex, David, would look hopefully pathetic like that over something until Ben inevitably caved, and then he’d clean out Ben’s bank account.
But Ben was smarter now. More savvy. Or, at least, that’s what he wanted to believe. That side of the house, Ben vowed, would be where Jacob stayed. Yes, maybe somewhere deep, deep down in the terrified recesses of his heart, he wanted something like what Tim and George had. But he’d learned how to be cautious the hard way from his exes. He just wasn’t the kind of guy someone could fall in love with. Men only found him interesting if they had an ulterior motive. Besides, Jacob wouldn’t even want anything of that nature from him anyway. He’d be Jacob’s friend, but he wasn’t going to hold out hope for anything else, let alone true love.
Hell, he half suspected it didn’t exist in the first place anyway.
~*****~
“Ten dollars a day,” George offered, shoving a wrinkled bill into Jacob’s astonished hands.
“Excuse me?” The entire town was cracked, that was the only explanation. Pete’s Pet Emporium had ended up being part pet shop and part coffee shop, which was fine, but Russell had given him the third degree the minute he’d brought up Ben’s name. Over protective didn’t even seem to cover it. He’d even given Jacob a pay advance with the explicit instructions for Jacob to use it to find an apartment and, as Russell had put it, ‘get the hell out of that sweet vampire’s house’.
Jealousy would have been a decent explanation, too, if it weren’t for the fact that Russell was in his fifties and had the walls of his office plastered with pictures of his wife and kids. Plus, he’d pretty much come out and said that Ben was like a son to him.
Fact of the matter was, though, Ben was the only person that Jacob had come into contact with so far that even seemed remotely down to earth. And as much as his comments had stung, Jacob had seen the common sense in them. If he stayed continually on the run, then he might as well just tuck his tail in between his legs and run home. Nothing was going to be accomplished unless he got up the courage to put down roots somewhere and give it a try.
So what if his father sent thugs? It wasn’t like he was a scared and unruly teenager anymore. It was about time he proved to them and to himself that he was more than that, and that he could be more than that without their interfering and trying to fix things up for him.
It was odd to come to such a fundamental realization when nothing else in this town seemed to follow the fundamental rules of anything. Here was Dress Man, without his sidekick Leather Man, offering him money. “Look, I know Russell’s given you an advance and I can’t compete with that kind of cash. But ten dollars a day and you can just save until you can get a really nice apartment if that’s what you want.”
“You want me to stay with Ben?”
“Yes,” George pouted, “the poor boy’s lonely.”
“He’s got a dog.” Which was to say that Ben probably didn’t need another stray mongrel cluttering up his life.
“There a lot of things a dog can’t do. Just stick around a couple more days and see what you think.”
“I dunno. I’m only staying here because Ben was kind enough to let me. I don’t want to take advantage of his good nature.”
“That’s great!” George beamed, confusing the hell out of Jacob. “So, stay a couple more days. You could do a lot worse than someone like Ben.”
Jacob blinked. As if Ben would want a backwards wastrel like him. He didn’t exactly have a lot to offer. He was virtually penniless, had just gotten his first job, and had all the experience of a newborn pup. Truth be told, he would have gotten an apartment today and put an end to all the nonsense, except that this was a small town. And currently? There were no vacancies. Short of buying the haunted mansion on the corner of main street-which he had absolutely no intention of doing as it looked like there was still a ghost living in it-there was no place available for him to rent within walking distance of his new job. “Um, I think I’ll just work it out with--”
“Eep!” George squealed like an adolescent school girl and thus becoming something that Jacob was sure he’d have nightmares over. “He’s back! Good luck, Pup!” He slapped Jacob on the back, sending him careening forward. And then, George booked it back across the yard to his house leaving Jacob to marvel at how fast he could haul ass in three inch heels.
And sure enough, there was Ben pulling up the drive in his car. Leaning back against the porch railings, Jacob waited for him to climb out of the car and make his way over to the house.
“Back again, huh?” Ben offered him a shy half smile, which Jacob had no problems returning as he offered a hand to carry the cooler. “Why didn’t you let yourself in?”
Jacob grinned as Ben looked at him askance. “Cause I don’t have a key. Besides, I wasn’t sure how welcome I’d be. I mean, I did kinda just crash in on you last night.”
“Oh,” Ben shrugged, unconcerned. “My hide-a-key’s in the plastic dog doo there. I just assumed that Tim or George would’ve told you when they saw you on the porch. Plus, everyone in town knows it’s there.” Picking up the pile, he flipped it over to demonstrate.
“Cute,” Jacob snickered. Geez, he left home, and he was still more of a kid than ever. Of course, from the way Ben grinned back, maybe it wasn’t so bad. “Don’t you worry about people getting in though?”
Course, if they did come in without Ben’s permission, Jacob imagined that half the town would be there to tar and feather them. He’d had a difficult time trying to open a bank account once word got around that he was currently staying at Ben’s.
“Well, my last ex, David, used it to pretty much take me for everything I had, but,” Ben shrugged again, some of his good mood dissipating at the mention of his ex. “He got pretty much anything that was worth taking.”
That was most certainly debatable, Jacob decided as he tried to remind himself not to stare at Ben’s ass as he opened the front door.
Spot came barreling out the front door, barking up a storm, and Jacob pulled his cowboy hat off his head to laugh as the dog raced clumsily all the way to the mailbox before squatting to pee.
“Big, dumb dog,” Ben shook his head, but his mouth was curved up in the corners. Grinning, Jacob walked over; slapping his hat over Ben’s head and leaning against the house next to him to wait as Spot came loping back like a moose with a balance problem.
“Who’s a good girl?” Jacob cooed at the dog as she jumped up on him, her paws on his shoulders. “Who’s a good girl? Is Spot a good girl?” The dog bayed practically in his ear, rendering him deaf for half a second. “Yes, you’re a good girl. Loud, but good.” He pushed her down with his free hand, before turning to follow Ben back into the house.
He grinned. The hat didn’t look half bad on Ben.
_____
Thus endth part one as LJ is a whore and won't let me post the whole thing in one go...