The Leech & The Whore [2]
Back! So much love for Katy, John and Shelby for reading the first part. <3 I love you guys. So, as I promised, here's the next section. I'm posting it to avoid writing any more right now. Procrastination ftw.
At least there was no pretence of romance. The second the door shut behind them, Phoenix grabbed Blake by the collar and dragged him into the living room down the hall. As he was pushed deep into a leather sofa, he had time to register the fact that Phoenix lived in a surprisingly neat and stylish apartment despite the building being in a rundown area before the redhead set about sending his nerves into overdrive and shutting off is higher brain functions.
Now he was out of the eye of the public, the triumphant Casanova rather than playing the optimistic seducer, Phoenix was less suave and more desperate, his movements purposeful and unapologetic. Blake hadn’t been lying in the alleyway; he wasn’t into guys, wasn’t just oblivious to the experience and had actually put mild thought into it in the past. Despite this, there was no denying that Phoenix was good at what he evidently did every night. With hands in his hair and under his clothes, lips and teeth against his skin and warm breath in his ear it was a matter of minutes before Blake felt completely incapable of conscious thought.
It wasn’t until Phoenix instructed him in the smoothest of whispers to keep talking that the bartender realised he had been rambling, incoherent phrases and curses in complete conflict with one another. He was determined to stay quiet after that, his dignity not able to take any more shame in one evening, but found it impossible.
There was a thump as Phoenix rolled them off of the sofa which was proving itself too small for two fully grown men. The carpet burnt against Blake’s back instantly and he thought about insulting the idiot but was distracted by hands pulling at his clothes. The air was cold against his skin as the material was pulled away and he silently cursed Phoenix for not even having the grace to have central heating. He closed his eyes and turned his face towards the carpet, not wanting to have to see Phoenix watching him like this. It had been a long time since he had been undressed in front of anyone and never in such a submissive manner. The whole situation was fucking shameful but he could do nothing to stop it.
“And what’s this?”
Blake’s eyes snapped open and he looked up to see Phoenix leaning over him still, cheeks flush and hair tousled. He was smiling triumphantly.
“What’s what?” Blake managed, feeling terribly exposed now that he was naked and having a conversation rather than not having to speak at all.
“This,” Phoenix repeated, reaching out to Blake’s discarded trousers and pulling on the end of the red ribbon that was just sticking out of the pocket. He looped it around his finger and brought it closer, trailing it over Blake’s stomach. “Why on earth do you have this, hm?”
“I was tidying up.” It didn’t sound convincing, even to himself.
“Of course you were,” Phoenix said, dropping the ribbon to the side and grinning before leaning down and kissing Blake in a manner far too sweet.
This mood didn’t last long however. The rumbling of a lorry outside briefly swallowed the gasps and moans that were too loud within the room. Finally catching on to Blake’s repeated mumbling of the words ‘the ratio’, Phoenix carefully removed his shirt and lay it down on the sofa beside them.
“Jesus,” Blake mumbled as the redhead pressed himself back against him. “You’re hot.”
“I know.”
“No, you asshole, not like that.” He raised a hand and let it rest tentatively against Phoenix’s lower back. “You’re burning up. You got a fever or somethin’?”
Phoenix laughed against Blake’s neck and shook his head.
“I’m always like this. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“As if I would worry about you.”
“I thought you already were.”
Blake parted his lips to reply with something along the lines of ‘you wish’ but was stopped as the redhead gave up on conversation completely and resumed stopping Blake from speaking. They conversed instead through fingertips and lips, Blake finally deciding fighting back was more painful than giving in and being unable to keep himself from running hands over the toned flesh being loaned to him. After all of the effort Phoenix had put into making this happen, events moved more quickly than he had anticipated. The game was over and the dance had well and truly begun. They moved against each other, with each other, breaths and voices mingling until neither was sure which belonged to them anymore. No longer the composed man on a mission, Phoenix’s body was slicked with sweat, his burgundy hair sticking to his cheeks and neck. Beneath him, Blake was in no state to notice and take triumph in such a transformation. His face buried in the crook of Phoenix’s neck, he raked nails down the redhead’s back and abandoned himself to a sense of freedom and loss of control he had been afraid of for too long.
Situations like this usually resulted in him hurting people, as he had in the alleyway. As their breathing became painful, Phoenix took one hand to the back of Blake’s head and guided him towards the wounded shoulder.
“Now,” he murmured, unable to form a full sentence. “Do it.”
Lips stretching over the torn flesh, Blake felt no hesitation for the first time in years. He didn’t need to bite hard to start the blood flowing freely again and, tongue working at Phoenix’s skin, couldn’t stop himself from moaning deep in his throat. His mind reeled and he felt Phoenix shuddering against him, his name slipping from kiss-swollen lips. It was animalistic, that moment, for both of them, something that was either incredibly complicated or so simple as to be terrifying.
Abandon. Even then, the word sunk into Phoenix’s mind with stunning clarity. Mind tainted with endorphins as it was, he felt as if this night was something special, as if he was being himself more than he had since he had started down this path.
The moment passed. The low rumbling of the traffic outside filtered in through the windows and eventually smothered their gradually slowing breaths. They lay still, as if afraid to move since that would mean they would have to think about what had just happened and explain away all those dramatic thoughts that inevitably accompany moments of unbridled passion. Blood still staining his lips, Blake’s body temperature now approached that of Phoenix’s and they lay in the cold room feeling too warm.
“I take it back,” Phoenix murmured at last, words sounding strange upon his lips. He drew himself away from Blake until he could lie next to him on the floor, arm out flung over the man’s stomach.
“What’re you talkin’ about?” His voice was slightly slurred, as if he had been drinking.
“You’re cute after all.”
Blake didn’t have the energy to hit Phoenix but he did roll his eyes and sigh a little theatrically.
“That’s enough of that,” he said quietly before rolling over, away from Phoenix and towards the sofa. He started making motions as if to stand but was stopped by the persistent arm over his stomach dragging him back down.
“You shouldn’t be moving yet,” Phoenix said in a way that set Blake’s mind into panic-mode.
“Why the fuck not? You didn’t ask me here to cuddle.”
“Because that was your first time with a guy, right? Don’t give me that look, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It just means you should rest up for a bit.”
“I can’t.” Blake finally managed to push the arm away and sit up, groping around through the pile of clothes until he found his shirt. He raised the black cotton to his lips and wiped the remainder of the blood away.
“Why not?” Struggling to sit up himself, Phoenix shuffled closer and clamped a hand around Blake’s wrist. “Aren’t you in pain or anything?”
“No.”
“Why-“
“I told you, right? I’m not normal. I heal like something out of a bad sci-fi movie.”
“Because you’re a va-“
“Leech,” Blake cut in, turning his face away under the pretence of looking for his clothes.
“That’s what you guys are called?”
“No, idiot. And what’s this ‘you guys’ thing about?”
“Then it’s what you prefer to be called?”
“It’ll do.”
Blake shook off Phoenix’s hand and managed to stand, slipping his shirt on but not doing it up and quickly finding his trousers. While he was struggling into these, Phoenix remained motionless on the floor, lying on his stomach with one arm stretched out towards the self-proclaimed leech. Blake glanced towards the windows, that he now realised were actually the doors leading onto a small balcony, and sighed.
“I gotta go.”
“Yes, you said that. But why?”
Blake glanced back at the window and took a deep breath as if building up enough resolve to say something he’d rather not. He stood between Phoenix’s sprawled form and the sofa, hands hanging limply at his sides.
“What time must it be now? Four? It’s going to get light soon. I gotta go.”
“Why, you going to crumble into dust when the sun rises?”
“Not exactly.” Blake took a step towards the door and started lifting his foot for another when a hand grabbed onto his ankle and pulled him back, almost sending him crashing to the floor. He spun around angrily and looked down into wide and oh-so-innocent crimson eyes. The effect was somewhat ruined by the sweat still glistening on his skin and the evident lack of clothes.
“So what does happen?” he asked in a small voice, void of emotion. The leech sighed and shrugged.
“Fwoosh.”
“Fwoosh?”
“Yeah, like...” He made a complicated motion with his hands. “Fire.”
Phoenix blinked owlishly. “That’s just not cool.”
“Tell me about it,” Blake mumbled and tried to wrench his ankle free. “Which is exactly why I gotta go.”
“Stay.”
Although Phoenix’s attempt at innocence was completely unbelievable, his eyes were earnest. Blake watched him for a long moment, the silver in his eyes gradually fading away into their usual dull amber. He opened his mouth once or twice, having never been in this situation before and not having an excuse already planned.
“Why would you ask me that?” he said at last.
Phoenix shrugged, a complicated motion since he was lying face down on the carpet. His grip on Blake’s ankle strengthened.
“Because I want to get to know you better.”
Blake burst into peals of laughter, his disbelief and confusion over this situation finding a release at last.
“Oh really?” he said when he was able. “Smooth. Real smooth. Look, I did what you wanted so you can just let me the fuck go now, okay?”
“Not like that.” The reply was surprisingly quiet although Blake still doubted its sincerity. “I know you have no reason to believe that but...it has to do with what I am.”
Blake’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He had almost forgotten about that and felt a little better about the way he had reacted when something to excuse his behaviour was almost in his grasp.
“Right,” he said. “So just tell me and I’ll be on my way. Unless you’re a vindictive bastard and want to pay me back for that by getting me caught in the sunlight.”
That was a livid purple bruise that had blossomed on Phoenix’s cheek. He touched fingers to it and winced before shaking his head.
“No. I want to tell you but I want you to stay. Is that too much to ask?”
Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Blake managed to rip himself free and stumble towards the door. Behind him, Phoenix scrambled to his hands and knees.
“Yes it is,” Blake said firmly. “Other than...other than what you let me do, all you’ve been doing is taking, Phoenix. I don’t want to be involved with anything like this, okay?”
“I’m an incubus.”
Blake stopped walking even though Phoenix’s hand had yet to touch his shoulder. He stared straight ahead without moving.
“You what?”
“You don’t believe they exist.”
“I know they exist,” Blake replied smoothly, tone unchanging. “I’m just wondering whether I feel better or worse now that I know it was a whore who managed to get his hands all over me.”
Ignoring the insult, Phoenix ploughed onwards.
“It’s not the sex I need. It’s nothing physical at all. I get energy from other people’s desire, as long as it’s directed towards me. Of course, the easiest way to achieve this is to actively seduce people so I guess that’s why I sleep with them. If I don’t do it, I go crazy. I’ve never left it long enough to see just how bad it gets.”
“Look, dude, I don’t give a-“
“I’m basically human,” the redhead continued. “Except that I can affect people’s perception of me without meaning to in order to get what I need and that no matter what I actually look like, they’ll see the best version of me possible.”
Blake couldn’t help himself this time. “What, so you’re actually ugly as sin?”
Phoenix smirked. “No. I’m hot. It’s just that it has nothing to do with what I am.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Blake asked after a while, tone verging on exasperation. He turned as if his feet were dead-weights until he was facing Phoenix who was standing shamelessly naked in front of him.
“Because I want you to stay.”
“Yes, I got that, but why?”
“I’ve never met someone like me before.”
Blake raised an eyebrow with incredulity. The idiot wasn’t lying, it seemed, his expression was more honest than it had been all evening. Blake wondered what he’d done to deserve the attentions of such a strange being. All he’d done was punch the bastard in the face for taunting him. That was allowed, wasn’t it? He’d never asked for Phoenix to get mushy over him.
“I’m not like you,” the leech said simply, starting to turn away.
“All right, maybe not, but you’re not human, either. I’ve never met someone else who wasn’t.”
“And so you wanna sit around and chat spooky stuff, right? Go to hell. Vampire. Incubus. They’re just words. I’m outta here.”
He was pulled back again as he turned, something he should have been used to already but it grated on his nerves. Acting on reflex, he swung a fist towards Phoenix’s face. The redhead ducked just in time and grabbed on to the arm, holding it still and talking loudly to drown out Blake’s angry cry.
“I didn’t find out what I was until I was sixteen. My mother is human and my father buggered off before I was born. All of my brothers and sisters are blonde and blue-eyed so it was always obvious I was different. I had to leave home three years ago because I couldn’t stand upsetting them anymore.”
“How do you think this is going to make me stay?” Blake asked, eyes narrowed. Still holding on to the leech’s arm, Phoenix wasn’t smiling.
“I’m giving,” he said quietly. “Just like you wanted. I’ll tell you everything I know about myself if you’ll tell me things about what you are. All I know are rumours. I’d like to have a reason to stop believing them.”
Blake regarded him for a long moment. “What rumours?” he asked with clear suspicion.
Phoenix grinned. “That you can fly and turn into a bat?”
The redhead dropped Blake’s arm and waited as he completed an impressive stream of curses, some of which Phoenix had never heard before and some of which he was sure were improvised. Once he had finished, Blake stretched his arms high above his head, ignoring the way Phoenix’s gaze ran along his muscles and sighed.
“Fuck it. Sure. If you have a way of making sure I won’t be in direct sunlight. If not, you better have home insurance.”
“Only direct sunlight? Will heavy curtains do if you stay near the centre of the room?”
“That’d be fine.” Blake ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to flatten in, not entirely believing he had agreed to stay in an apartment he hadn’t even looked around yet with a perverted redhead who wanted to ‘chat’.
Phoenix was now wearing an expression so happy it offended Blake on a deep level. He fixed the incubus with a level yellow stare and licked his dry lips.
“You got anything to drink?” he asked. “I think I’m gonna need it.”
Phoenix grinned. “Not gin, right?”
“Definitely not gin.”
The light was starting to hurt his eyes by the time Blake got his drink. Phoenix spent far too long fixing something as simple as vodka. He had been forced to take over as Phoenix finally went and put some clothes on, if tight jeans and a torn t-shirt could be called clothes. In defiance of Blake’s excuse to leave, they had gone out onto the balcony with their drinks. It was a little too posh for Blake to feel comfortable with, as was the rest of the apartment. The kitchen had been large enough for one person to use comfortably and much cleaner than Blake had been expecting. In fact, the whole apartment was neat and tidy, with soft red carpets and white walls. The decor and furnishings were sparse enough to suggest Phoenix had a latent OCD or a fetish for modernism, all except the bedroom which Blake had peeked into expecting the worst. Silk, velvet and drapes summed up the room accurately. Not surprising.
Now, as they stood leaning against the iron balustrade, their drinks having over the edge, Blake found himself surprised. Now the deed was done, Phoenix seemed to relax and speak casually, proving himself to be likeable despite Blake’s best efforts to hate him. The sky was a deep purple, the winter morning beginning to show its face at last. The balcony was lit by a small electric lamp, its surface partially obscured by clinging ivy.
“Tell me about it,” Phoenix asked, crimson hair ruffling in the wind.
“Be more specific,” Blake replied, his tone too soft to match the words.
“About va-“ Phoenix caught Blake’s eye and checked himself. “About leeches and incubi and whatever else there is.”
“That’s a naive question, hotshot,” Blake answered, turning his eyes down to the traffic three stories down. “You really don’t know anything do you?”
Blake did his best to explain what he could before getting bored. In around five minutes, he managed to inform Phoenix that the whole idea of a supernatural underground ‘world’ was farfetched and it was more like rival gangs in a big city who were only rivals in name and mostly kept away from one another. The most secretive group were probably the incubi, who had another term for their kind but not one Blake could remember. They tended to associate in small groups and only had a vague hierarchy to govern the group as a whole. This was probably because illegitimate children, much like Phoenix, were too common. He briefly mentioned other groups with names Phoenix wasn’t so familiar with: the nephilim, the seraphim, the beasts, the fauns. The first two, Blake described as ‘complete fucking pains in the ass’ while the others were ‘a waste of skin’.
“So what about you?” Phoenix asked when Blake lapsed into silence. “What are leeches like?”
Blake barked with laughter and finished his drink before replying. “We’re difficult,” he said, obviously not wanting to say any more. Once Phoenix had casually refilled his glass, an answer of a sort was provided.
“Fucking ‘give and take’ bullshit,” Blake mumbled. “Why did I even bring it up? Well, whatever. Leeches are more secretive than most but we’re egotistical bastards and so like people to know where we are. We tend to live in large groups in cities and busy places. Call them ‘covens’ or ‘circles’ or anything like that and you’re goin’ over the balcony,” he added with a side glance at Phoenix. “They’re just gangs, really. I don’t know about the others but the one I was part of had a strict hierarchy and loved rules like nothing else.”
“Was?” Phoenix cut in, turning to lean his back against the balustrade. “You’re not part of it anymore?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I was, now would I?”
“This was in London?”
“Hell no. This was in New York. If I ever go back there I’d give it about three hours before I’m lying in some dungeon and bleeding out.”
Phoenix’s eyes widened and Blake snorted scornfully.
“What, did you think it was all sparkly cloaks and velvet? We don’t live in some horror movie, idiot. This is real life. There are no monsters or creatures, right? There’re just humans with extras added on. Speaking of which,” he added in a lower tone, narrowing his eyes. “It’s getting too damn bright out here.”
Phoenix turned around and followed Blake’s gaze. What he could see of the sky between the buildings was only verging on becoming blue, the moon and stars still visible. It was dark to him, not the dark of night but the familiar dark of early morning. Catching his confused expression, Blake sighed and pushed himself away from the railing.
“I told you already,” he said. “I’m extremely photosensitive. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Scientific words sound strange coming from you.”
“Asshole. Can we go inside already?”
With a silent nod of acquiescence, Phoenix pulled open the double doors that led back into the living room. Blake stepped in quickly and flung himself onto the sofa, bare feet on the cushions. Shutting the door behind them and pulling the curtains, Phoenix followed him in and sat on the floor nearby.
“It’s dark,” Blake said suddenly.
“Uh, yes. Yes it is.”
“How am I meant to drink?”
“What, can’t you see?”
“I’m not a fucking bat Phoenix, put a light on.”
Fighting the urge to laugh, the redhead leant over and flicked on a lamp standing on a small table next to the arm. The light was bright, brighter than any other they had seen that night and the pair were able to see each other clearly for the first time. This resulted in Blake trying to glare at Phoenix while simultaneously trying not to look while Phoenix reached out and touched his fingertips to Blake’s hair. Blake shook the hand away.
“What the hell?”
“I’ve never seen a colour like that before.”
“Like black?”
“It’s not black.”
In the glare of the electric light, Blake’s hair became multi-tonal, the black fading into royal blues and rich violets, even muted reds. Barely managing to stop himself from reaching out to touch it again, Phoenix sat back.
“Is it natural?”
“No, I got it done at the hair dressers. Of course it’s natural, you fucking moron. And you called me a bat only a moment ago. I bet you watched too many horror movies as a kid.”
“I saw ‘Dracula’ once or twice,” Phoenix admitted sheepishly.
Blake made a face of distaste and drained his second glass before sliding down the arm of the sofa until he was lying almost flat on the cushions.
“That’s the problem with this society,” he said once he was comfortable and glaring at the ceiling. “Too many films and books making people think I’m some deformed old man who wants to creep into girls’ bedroom or play a huge organ and sing about ze cheeld-ren of ze night. Too many damn myths being drilled into people’s heads.”
“So you can’t turn into a bat and fly around?”
“Fuck you.”
“But you are photosensitive and you do have to drink blood?”
Blake rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah. It’s like a medical condition I guess.”
“Do you eat anything else?” Phoenix asked, coming to the conclusion that Blake wasn’t get any angrier and so investigating the rumours wasn’t a suicidal idea.
“Do you eat anything other than ‘desire’ or whatever the hell people are calling it these days?”
“Point taken.”
“You’re going to sit there and list every stupid myth there is, aren’t you? Don’t try and look so innocent, I reckon I’m getting the hang of you now.”
Phoenix shrugged and lay back on the floor, mirroring Blake’s position on the sofa. He made a small, non-committal noise and laughed as Blake set his glass down with a decisive click. He wasn’t surprised when the leech leaned over the edge of the sofa and fixed him with a determined stare, hair hanging down around his cheekbones.
“Let’s get this out of the way, shall we?” he hissed.
“Ooh yes, let’s,,” Phoenix replied, gazing back up with a smirk. Blake pulled a face of revulsion before continuing with his rant regardless.
“I can’t turn into anything, no animals, no type of mist or anything stupid like that. I can’t fly or climb up walls. I can’t see in the dark much better than a normal guy and the only advantage I have comes from living in the dark rather than by nature. I can’t ‘turn’ anyone else into a leech and I wasn’t ‘made’ into one either, I was born this way. I age just like anyone else and I’m not gonna live forever, thank Christ.”
He took a deep breath before continuing and Phoenix got the impression that this was something he’d been wanting to say aloud for a long time, no matter what he had said about not wanting to stay.
“But, unfortunately, I’m not the same as you. If I don’t get blood from somewhere I go fucking mental. Imagine the worst stomach and head aches you’ve ever had. If they were happening at the same time and made it so that you had asthma and schizophrenia too, that’d be close to what it’s like. I don’t have to kill people, though, and I never want to again, whatever you might think of me.”
The leech’s expression was dark as he finished this tirade and Phoenix fought the urge to offer him a hug. It was clear the guy had worries that needed a lot more than a hug to solve but Phoenix wasn’t sure what else to offer. He started feeling a little guilty; he had suggested this but when it came down to it, he had very little information to offer Blake in return for his own confessions.
“I heal quickly so I’m pretty hard to kill,” he continued, oblivious to the change in Phoenix’s mood. “Anyone coming at me with a wooden stake would be really pissed to know my heart can heal even if it’s cut in two, it just takes a while. The only definite ways to kill me would be cutting off my head or setting me on fire, provided you make damn sure I burn all the way. Drowning doesn’t work since you’d have to keep me in water forever; the second I got air I’d start to heal.”
“Is it the same for all leeches?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You use yourself in all your examples. That’s not healthy.”
Blake waved this away with one hand and flopped back on to the sofa, wrist resting on his forehead.
“I think that’s it,” he said. “Unless you can think of anything else.”
“Holy water? Garlic? Being invited in? Not having a heartbeat? Breathing?”
“What do you think, smartass?”
Phoenix didn’t reply, lying back with a smile instead. After a long silent moment, he touched a hand to the wound in his shoulder.
“Fangs?” he asked in a hesitant voice, not wanting to push it too far. He was surprised when Blake just shrugged.
“See for yourself.”
Phoenix was up in an instant and knelt by the side of the sofa. He looked down at Blake, seeing the leech had closed his eyes. A tiny smile tugged at his lips although, if asked, he would not have been able to explain why. By closing his eyes, Blake was giving the impression that he was trusting Phoenix, despite being so vehement in his dislike and anger earlier. Phoenix wondered whether this was true or whether the guy was just drunk. Although, he didn’t appear drunk. Something to do with his healing abilities, perhaps.
He leant down, close to Blake’s face, and raised a hand to hover over his cheek. Thinking better of this, he touched a finger to Blake’s lips. Obediently, as if he had been expecting such a direct approach, Blake parted his lips, exposing what looked like perfectly normal teeth. Phoenix pressed a finger against the upper row, remembering the way his shoulder wound looked, and found the edges to be sharp and hard, like the edge of a thick sword. In contrast, the lower set was normal. He withdrew his finger but didn’t move away.
“I don’t need fangs,” Blake said once he could speak without slicing the end off of Phoenix’s finger. “If your teeth are sharp enough to break enough skin, you’ll get blood whether you hit a vein or not. It’s just more effective if you aim first. All of this hollow-tooth-straw shit is made up. I’m not like a snake, although that’d be much cooler than being like a bat.”
His explanation was greeted with silence. Phoenix moved forward almost imperceptibly, merlot eyes trained on Blake’s lips. With his eyes still shut, Blake managed to give off the impression of rolling them.
“You’re going to kiss me, aren’t you?”
Phoenix blinked.
“What gave you that idea?”
“I dunno. But you are, aren’t you?”
“Do you not want me to?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Well?”
“I’m not into guys.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’ll start caring if I punch you in the-“
Blake was getting sick of being interrupted that night, especially when the interruption came in the form of soft lips that tasted of vodka and coke. It had to be the taste that meant he didn’t turn his head away or make good on his threat of violence. Instead, he accepted the kiss, barely moving his own in response but not opening his eyes either. He only opened them when Phoenix pulled away after an interval that was much longer than it should have been. The incubus was smiling in a way that set Blake on edge.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
Choosing to ignore this, Blake swung himself up into a sitting position and looked at the closed curtains. Grey dawn light was starting to creep through the space at the bottom of the door.
“I need to go to sleep,” he said, wishing his voice was louder. “It’s been getting dark again at 4 recently so I can get a good ten hours sleep at least.”
“Ten hours?” Phoenix questioned, getting to his feet and holding out a hand to Blake that was pointedly ignored. “That’s a lot of sleep. Is this some-“
“No, it has nothing to do with being a leech,” Blake snapped, now standing beside the redhead and swaying slightly. His eyes were unfocussed and he visibly fought the urge to yawn. “I’m just lazy, okay? There’s no shame in that.”
Gesturing at Blake to follow him, Phoenix began heading down the hallway towards the bedroom.
“Just as there’s no shame in appreciating the human form.”
“Whatever, pervert.”
Once in the bedroom, where the curtains had been left drawn since Phoenix had left that morning, Blake eyed the bed with suspicion. Seeing as Phoenix had forgotten, again, Blake took the liberty of turning on the light. Shrugging his shirt off with practiced ease, the redhead went to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands. The silk sheets seemed to ripple under his weight. Catching Blake’s expression, which was slowly morphing into one of horror, he patted the bed.
“This is the darkest room I have,” he said, indicating the heavy velvet drapes that bunched up against the floor. “So it’s either here or fwoosh, right?”
“This was all just some elaborate plan to get me into bed, wasn’t it?” Blake questioned, face deadpan. “You sly bastard.”
Phoenix smirked but shook his head, effectively communicating that Blake might be right but his previous point was still valid.
“You’re gonna be sleeping here too, aren’t you?”
Another pat.
“Except I doubt you’re gonna be sleeping.”
“I have work at eleven, Blake. I need to sleep.”
Moving over to the bed as though approaching a dangerous animal, taking one step to the side for every step forward so that he was moving in a circle. Phoenix waited in silence until the leech was touching the bed with his knees, reaching out as soon as he was close enough to grab a wrist and pull Blake down next to him. Expecting to be jumped upon, Blake rolled away and sat up, now fully on the bed, to find that Phoenix hadn’t moved a muscle and was watching him with a grin.
“Where the hell do you work, anyway?” Blake asked, attempting to pretend the last few seconds hadn’t happened.
“Trust me,” Phoenix said, scooting himself back on the bed and wiggling out of his jeans, a movement enthusiastic enough to force Blake into averting his eyes. “You don’t want to know.”
“You’re right,” he said once the redhead was lounging back, sans clothes, looking far too confident. “I don’t.”
He turned away and slipped out of his own clothes, making sure he didn’t so much as glance at Phoenix whilst he did so. Once they had been tossed onto the floor, Blake moved back to lie on his side of the bed, facing outwards and so close to the edge he couldn’t relax his muscles for fear of falling. He could hear Phoenix take a breath behind him as if he was about to speak but after a moment the redhead got to his feet, presumably to turn off the light. Blake was confused when, instead of footsteps towards the switch, he heard a sigh.
“Hey,” Phoenix said in a quiet voice quite unlike the one Blake had become used to. “Turn over.”
“Why? What are you going to do to me if I do?”
“Show you something.”
“Hah, ‘cause that doesn’t sound suspicious.”
“It’s not. You told me so much tonight, whether you think it was important or not. I know you won’t accept me thanking you so I thought of one thing I could give back.”
“Tell me what it is before I turn over.”
There was another sigh and Blake almost turned over without his explanation but held out just long enough for Phoenix to speak.
“You know what I said about being able to alter people’s perceptions of my appearance? There’s something you might have missed.”
This piqued Blake’s usually dormant curiosity, if only because the redhead had been so sickeningly narcissistic all night. Hoping for something humiliating like spray tan gone wrong, Blake turned over. His eyes narrowed.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Look closer.”
Eyes trained on Blake’s face the whole time, Phoenix raised one of his hands and traced a line across his own stomach. Following the motion, Blake realised there was a blemish there, a mark that he was sure he would have noticed before. Not just one mark but three, three long scars that ran from one side of Phoenix’s body to the other as if some creature had tried to disembowel him with sharp claws.
“Most people would find these a little off-putting,” the redhead said with a self-deprecating smile.
“What are they?” Blake asked, voice void of the sympathy he could tell Phoenix wasn’t asking for.
Phoenix closed his eyes for a moment, weighing up his options, before crossing over to the switch and turning the light off with a click.
“You don’t want to know,” he said, voice drifting through the darkness.
“Right,” Blake replied, edging further towards the centre of the bed. “I guess I don’t.”
The bed dipped as Phoenix climbed back onto it and Blake waited for the man to make his move. He counted to thirty before anything happened.
“Blake?”
“Yeah, what?”
“Thanks for staying. I know you didn’t want to.”
“I thought you weren’t going to stay thanks?”
“Yeah but I want to anyway.”
“You’re making me sick. What happened to the macho, perverted, sleazy asshole I was talking to earlier?”
“He got sleepy.”
“Then go to sleep, idiot.”
Silence. This time, he managed to count to forty.
“See you tomorrow, Blake.”
A pause and then a quiet laugh.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
That night, the first night, their sleep was unbroken and they slept so far apart as to be alone.
Tada! I'd love to know if you had a favourite bit since the best bits of dialogue I might recycle when writing the actual novel project.Much love if you got through eeet.
At least there was no pretence of romance. The second the door shut behind them, Phoenix grabbed Blake by the collar and dragged him into the living room down the hall. As he was pushed deep into a leather sofa, he had time to register the fact that Phoenix lived in a surprisingly neat and stylish apartment despite the building being in a rundown area before the redhead set about sending his nerves into overdrive and shutting off is higher brain functions.
Now he was out of the eye of the public, the triumphant Casanova rather than playing the optimistic seducer, Phoenix was less suave and more desperate, his movements purposeful and unapologetic. Blake hadn’t been lying in the alleyway; he wasn’t into guys, wasn’t just oblivious to the experience and had actually put mild thought into it in the past. Despite this, there was no denying that Phoenix was good at what he evidently did every night. With hands in his hair and under his clothes, lips and teeth against his skin and warm breath in his ear it was a matter of minutes before Blake felt completely incapable of conscious thought.
It wasn’t until Phoenix instructed him in the smoothest of whispers to keep talking that the bartender realised he had been rambling, incoherent phrases and curses in complete conflict with one another. He was determined to stay quiet after that, his dignity not able to take any more shame in one evening, but found it impossible.
There was a thump as Phoenix rolled them off of the sofa which was proving itself too small for two fully grown men. The carpet burnt against Blake’s back instantly and he thought about insulting the idiot but was distracted by hands pulling at his clothes. The air was cold against his skin as the material was pulled away and he silently cursed Phoenix for not even having the grace to have central heating. He closed his eyes and turned his face towards the carpet, not wanting to have to see Phoenix watching him like this. It had been a long time since he had been undressed in front of anyone and never in such a submissive manner. The whole situation was fucking shameful but he could do nothing to stop it.
“And what’s this?”
Blake’s eyes snapped open and he looked up to see Phoenix leaning over him still, cheeks flush and hair tousled. He was smiling triumphantly.
“What’s what?” Blake managed, feeling terribly exposed now that he was naked and having a conversation rather than not having to speak at all.
“This,” Phoenix repeated, reaching out to Blake’s discarded trousers and pulling on the end of the red ribbon that was just sticking out of the pocket. He looped it around his finger and brought it closer, trailing it over Blake’s stomach. “Why on earth do you have this, hm?”
“I was tidying up.” It didn’t sound convincing, even to himself.
“Of course you were,” Phoenix said, dropping the ribbon to the side and grinning before leaning down and kissing Blake in a manner far too sweet.
This mood didn’t last long however. The rumbling of a lorry outside briefly swallowed the gasps and moans that were too loud within the room. Finally catching on to Blake’s repeated mumbling of the words ‘the ratio’, Phoenix carefully removed his shirt and lay it down on the sofa beside them.
“Jesus,” Blake mumbled as the redhead pressed himself back against him. “You’re hot.”
“I know.”
“No, you asshole, not like that.” He raised a hand and let it rest tentatively against Phoenix’s lower back. “You’re burning up. You got a fever or somethin’?”
Phoenix laughed against Blake’s neck and shook his head.
“I’m always like this. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“As if I would worry about you.”
“I thought you already were.”
Blake parted his lips to reply with something along the lines of ‘you wish’ but was stopped as the redhead gave up on conversation completely and resumed stopping Blake from speaking. They conversed instead through fingertips and lips, Blake finally deciding fighting back was more painful than giving in and being unable to keep himself from running hands over the toned flesh being loaned to him. After all of the effort Phoenix had put into making this happen, events moved more quickly than he had anticipated. The game was over and the dance had well and truly begun. They moved against each other, with each other, breaths and voices mingling until neither was sure which belonged to them anymore. No longer the composed man on a mission, Phoenix’s body was slicked with sweat, his burgundy hair sticking to his cheeks and neck. Beneath him, Blake was in no state to notice and take triumph in such a transformation. His face buried in the crook of Phoenix’s neck, he raked nails down the redhead’s back and abandoned himself to a sense of freedom and loss of control he had been afraid of for too long.
Situations like this usually resulted in him hurting people, as he had in the alleyway. As their breathing became painful, Phoenix took one hand to the back of Blake’s head and guided him towards the wounded shoulder.
“Now,” he murmured, unable to form a full sentence. “Do it.”
Lips stretching over the torn flesh, Blake felt no hesitation for the first time in years. He didn’t need to bite hard to start the blood flowing freely again and, tongue working at Phoenix’s skin, couldn’t stop himself from moaning deep in his throat. His mind reeled and he felt Phoenix shuddering against him, his name slipping from kiss-swollen lips. It was animalistic, that moment, for both of them, something that was either incredibly complicated or so simple as to be terrifying.
Abandon. Even then, the word sunk into Phoenix’s mind with stunning clarity. Mind tainted with endorphins as it was, he felt as if this night was something special, as if he was being himself more than he had since he had started down this path.
The moment passed. The low rumbling of the traffic outside filtered in through the windows and eventually smothered their gradually slowing breaths. They lay still, as if afraid to move since that would mean they would have to think about what had just happened and explain away all those dramatic thoughts that inevitably accompany moments of unbridled passion. Blood still staining his lips, Blake’s body temperature now approached that of Phoenix’s and they lay in the cold room feeling too warm.
“I take it back,” Phoenix murmured at last, words sounding strange upon his lips. He drew himself away from Blake until he could lie next to him on the floor, arm out flung over the man’s stomach.
“What’re you talkin’ about?” His voice was slightly slurred, as if he had been drinking.
“You’re cute after all.”
Blake didn’t have the energy to hit Phoenix but he did roll his eyes and sigh a little theatrically.
“That’s enough of that,” he said quietly before rolling over, away from Phoenix and towards the sofa. He started making motions as if to stand but was stopped by the persistent arm over his stomach dragging him back down.
“You shouldn’t be moving yet,” Phoenix said in a way that set Blake’s mind into panic-mode.
“Why the fuck not? You didn’t ask me here to cuddle.”
“Because that was your first time with a guy, right? Don’t give me that look, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It just means you should rest up for a bit.”
“I can’t.” Blake finally managed to push the arm away and sit up, groping around through the pile of clothes until he found his shirt. He raised the black cotton to his lips and wiped the remainder of the blood away.
“Why not?” Struggling to sit up himself, Phoenix shuffled closer and clamped a hand around Blake’s wrist. “Aren’t you in pain or anything?”
“No.”
“Why-“
“I told you, right? I’m not normal. I heal like something out of a bad sci-fi movie.”
“Because you’re a va-“
“Leech,” Blake cut in, turning his face away under the pretence of looking for his clothes.
“That’s what you guys are called?”
“No, idiot. And what’s this ‘you guys’ thing about?”
“Then it’s what you prefer to be called?”
“It’ll do.”
Blake shook off Phoenix’s hand and managed to stand, slipping his shirt on but not doing it up and quickly finding his trousers. While he was struggling into these, Phoenix remained motionless on the floor, lying on his stomach with one arm stretched out towards the self-proclaimed leech. Blake glanced towards the windows, that he now realised were actually the doors leading onto a small balcony, and sighed.
“I gotta go.”
“Yes, you said that. But why?”
Blake glanced back at the window and took a deep breath as if building up enough resolve to say something he’d rather not. He stood between Phoenix’s sprawled form and the sofa, hands hanging limply at his sides.
“What time must it be now? Four? It’s going to get light soon. I gotta go.”
“Why, you going to crumble into dust when the sun rises?”
“Not exactly.” Blake took a step towards the door and started lifting his foot for another when a hand grabbed onto his ankle and pulled him back, almost sending him crashing to the floor. He spun around angrily and looked down into wide and oh-so-innocent crimson eyes. The effect was somewhat ruined by the sweat still glistening on his skin and the evident lack of clothes.
“So what does happen?” he asked in a small voice, void of emotion. The leech sighed and shrugged.
“Fwoosh.”
“Fwoosh?”
“Yeah, like...” He made a complicated motion with his hands. “Fire.”
Phoenix blinked owlishly. “That’s just not cool.”
“Tell me about it,” Blake mumbled and tried to wrench his ankle free. “Which is exactly why I gotta go.”
“Stay.”
Although Phoenix’s attempt at innocence was completely unbelievable, his eyes were earnest. Blake watched him for a long moment, the silver in his eyes gradually fading away into their usual dull amber. He opened his mouth once or twice, having never been in this situation before and not having an excuse already planned.
“Why would you ask me that?” he said at last.
Phoenix shrugged, a complicated motion since he was lying face down on the carpet. His grip on Blake’s ankle strengthened.
“Because I want to get to know you better.”
Blake burst into peals of laughter, his disbelief and confusion over this situation finding a release at last.
“Oh really?” he said when he was able. “Smooth. Real smooth. Look, I did what you wanted so you can just let me the fuck go now, okay?”
“Not like that.” The reply was surprisingly quiet although Blake still doubted its sincerity. “I know you have no reason to believe that but...it has to do with what I am.”
Blake’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He had almost forgotten about that and felt a little better about the way he had reacted when something to excuse his behaviour was almost in his grasp.
“Right,” he said. “So just tell me and I’ll be on my way. Unless you’re a vindictive bastard and want to pay me back for that by getting me caught in the sunlight.”
That was a livid purple bruise that had blossomed on Phoenix’s cheek. He touched fingers to it and winced before shaking his head.
“No. I want to tell you but I want you to stay. Is that too much to ask?”
Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Blake managed to rip himself free and stumble towards the door. Behind him, Phoenix scrambled to his hands and knees.
“Yes it is,” Blake said firmly. “Other than...other than what you let me do, all you’ve been doing is taking, Phoenix. I don’t want to be involved with anything like this, okay?”
“I’m an incubus.”
Blake stopped walking even though Phoenix’s hand had yet to touch his shoulder. He stared straight ahead without moving.
“You what?”
“You don’t believe they exist.”
“I know they exist,” Blake replied smoothly, tone unchanging. “I’m just wondering whether I feel better or worse now that I know it was a whore who managed to get his hands all over me.”
Ignoring the insult, Phoenix ploughed onwards.
“It’s not the sex I need. It’s nothing physical at all. I get energy from other people’s desire, as long as it’s directed towards me. Of course, the easiest way to achieve this is to actively seduce people so I guess that’s why I sleep with them. If I don’t do it, I go crazy. I’ve never left it long enough to see just how bad it gets.”
“Look, dude, I don’t give a-“
“I’m basically human,” the redhead continued. “Except that I can affect people’s perception of me without meaning to in order to get what I need and that no matter what I actually look like, they’ll see the best version of me possible.”
Blake couldn’t help himself this time. “What, so you’re actually ugly as sin?”
Phoenix smirked. “No. I’m hot. It’s just that it has nothing to do with what I am.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Blake asked after a while, tone verging on exasperation. He turned as if his feet were dead-weights until he was facing Phoenix who was standing shamelessly naked in front of him.
“Because I want you to stay.”
“Yes, I got that, but why?”
“I’ve never met someone like me before.”
Blake raised an eyebrow with incredulity. The idiot wasn’t lying, it seemed, his expression was more honest than it had been all evening. Blake wondered what he’d done to deserve the attentions of such a strange being. All he’d done was punch the bastard in the face for taunting him. That was allowed, wasn’t it? He’d never asked for Phoenix to get mushy over him.
“I’m not like you,” the leech said simply, starting to turn away.
“All right, maybe not, but you’re not human, either. I’ve never met someone else who wasn’t.”
“And so you wanna sit around and chat spooky stuff, right? Go to hell. Vampire. Incubus. They’re just words. I’m outta here.”
He was pulled back again as he turned, something he should have been used to already but it grated on his nerves. Acting on reflex, he swung a fist towards Phoenix’s face. The redhead ducked just in time and grabbed on to the arm, holding it still and talking loudly to drown out Blake’s angry cry.
“I didn’t find out what I was until I was sixteen. My mother is human and my father buggered off before I was born. All of my brothers and sisters are blonde and blue-eyed so it was always obvious I was different. I had to leave home three years ago because I couldn’t stand upsetting them anymore.”
“How do you think this is going to make me stay?” Blake asked, eyes narrowed. Still holding on to the leech’s arm, Phoenix wasn’t smiling.
“I’m giving,” he said quietly. “Just like you wanted. I’ll tell you everything I know about myself if you’ll tell me things about what you are. All I know are rumours. I’d like to have a reason to stop believing them.”
Blake regarded him for a long moment. “What rumours?” he asked with clear suspicion.
Phoenix grinned. “That you can fly and turn into a bat?”
The redhead dropped Blake’s arm and waited as he completed an impressive stream of curses, some of which Phoenix had never heard before and some of which he was sure were improvised. Once he had finished, Blake stretched his arms high above his head, ignoring the way Phoenix’s gaze ran along his muscles and sighed.
“Fuck it. Sure. If you have a way of making sure I won’t be in direct sunlight. If not, you better have home insurance.”
“Only direct sunlight? Will heavy curtains do if you stay near the centre of the room?”
“That’d be fine.” Blake ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to flatten in, not entirely believing he had agreed to stay in an apartment he hadn’t even looked around yet with a perverted redhead who wanted to ‘chat’.
Phoenix was now wearing an expression so happy it offended Blake on a deep level. He fixed the incubus with a level yellow stare and licked his dry lips.
“You got anything to drink?” he asked. “I think I’m gonna need it.”
Phoenix grinned. “Not gin, right?”
“Definitely not gin.”
The light was starting to hurt his eyes by the time Blake got his drink. Phoenix spent far too long fixing something as simple as vodka. He had been forced to take over as Phoenix finally went and put some clothes on, if tight jeans and a torn t-shirt could be called clothes. In defiance of Blake’s excuse to leave, they had gone out onto the balcony with their drinks. It was a little too posh for Blake to feel comfortable with, as was the rest of the apartment. The kitchen had been large enough for one person to use comfortably and much cleaner than Blake had been expecting. In fact, the whole apartment was neat and tidy, with soft red carpets and white walls. The decor and furnishings were sparse enough to suggest Phoenix had a latent OCD or a fetish for modernism, all except the bedroom which Blake had peeked into expecting the worst. Silk, velvet and drapes summed up the room accurately. Not surprising.
Now, as they stood leaning against the iron balustrade, their drinks having over the edge, Blake found himself surprised. Now the deed was done, Phoenix seemed to relax and speak casually, proving himself to be likeable despite Blake’s best efforts to hate him. The sky was a deep purple, the winter morning beginning to show its face at last. The balcony was lit by a small electric lamp, its surface partially obscured by clinging ivy.
“Tell me about it,” Phoenix asked, crimson hair ruffling in the wind.
“Be more specific,” Blake replied, his tone too soft to match the words.
“About va-“ Phoenix caught Blake’s eye and checked himself. “About leeches and incubi and whatever else there is.”
“That’s a naive question, hotshot,” Blake answered, turning his eyes down to the traffic three stories down. “You really don’t know anything do you?”
Blake did his best to explain what he could before getting bored. In around five minutes, he managed to inform Phoenix that the whole idea of a supernatural underground ‘world’ was farfetched and it was more like rival gangs in a big city who were only rivals in name and mostly kept away from one another. The most secretive group were probably the incubi, who had another term for their kind but not one Blake could remember. They tended to associate in small groups and only had a vague hierarchy to govern the group as a whole. This was probably because illegitimate children, much like Phoenix, were too common. He briefly mentioned other groups with names Phoenix wasn’t so familiar with: the nephilim, the seraphim, the beasts, the fauns. The first two, Blake described as ‘complete fucking pains in the ass’ while the others were ‘a waste of skin’.
“So what about you?” Phoenix asked when Blake lapsed into silence. “What are leeches like?”
Blake barked with laughter and finished his drink before replying. “We’re difficult,” he said, obviously not wanting to say any more. Once Phoenix had casually refilled his glass, an answer of a sort was provided.
“Fucking ‘give and take’ bullshit,” Blake mumbled. “Why did I even bring it up? Well, whatever. Leeches are more secretive than most but we’re egotistical bastards and so like people to know where we are. We tend to live in large groups in cities and busy places. Call them ‘covens’ or ‘circles’ or anything like that and you’re goin’ over the balcony,” he added with a side glance at Phoenix. “They’re just gangs, really. I don’t know about the others but the one I was part of had a strict hierarchy and loved rules like nothing else.”
“Was?” Phoenix cut in, turning to lean his back against the balustrade. “You’re not part of it anymore?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I was, now would I?”
“This was in London?”
“Hell no. This was in New York. If I ever go back there I’d give it about three hours before I’m lying in some dungeon and bleeding out.”
Phoenix’s eyes widened and Blake snorted scornfully.
“What, did you think it was all sparkly cloaks and velvet? We don’t live in some horror movie, idiot. This is real life. There are no monsters or creatures, right? There’re just humans with extras added on. Speaking of which,” he added in a lower tone, narrowing his eyes. “It’s getting too damn bright out here.”
Phoenix turned around and followed Blake’s gaze. What he could see of the sky between the buildings was only verging on becoming blue, the moon and stars still visible. It was dark to him, not the dark of night but the familiar dark of early morning. Catching his confused expression, Blake sighed and pushed himself away from the railing.
“I told you already,” he said. “I’m extremely photosensitive. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Scientific words sound strange coming from you.”
“Asshole. Can we go inside already?”
With a silent nod of acquiescence, Phoenix pulled open the double doors that led back into the living room. Blake stepped in quickly and flung himself onto the sofa, bare feet on the cushions. Shutting the door behind them and pulling the curtains, Phoenix followed him in and sat on the floor nearby.
“It’s dark,” Blake said suddenly.
“Uh, yes. Yes it is.”
“How am I meant to drink?”
“What, can’t you see?”
“I’m not a fucking bat Phoenix, put a light on.”
Fighting the urge to laugh, the redhead leant over and flicked on a lamp standing on a small table next to the arm. The light was bright, brighter than any other they had seen that night and the pair were able to see each other clearly for the first time. This resulted in Blake trying to glare at Phoenix while simultaneously trying not to look while Phoenix reached out and touched his fingertips to Blake’s hair. Blake shook the hand away.
“What the hell?”
“I’ve never seen a colour like that before.”
“Like black?”
“It’s not black.”
In the glare of the electric light, Blake’s hair became multi-tonal, the black fading into royal blues and rich violets, even muted reds. Barely managing to stop himself from reaching out to touch it again, Phoenix sat back.
“Is it natural?”
“No, I got it done at the hair dressers. Of course it’s natural, you fucking moron. And you called me a bat only a moment ago. I bet you watched too many horror movies as a kid.”
“I saw ‘Dracula’ once or twice,” Phoenix admitted sheepishly.
Blake made a face of distaste and drained his second glass before sliding down the arm of the sofa until he was lying almost flat on the cushions.
“That’s the problem with this society,” he said once he was comfortable and glaring at the ceiling. “Too many films and books making people think I’m some deformed old man who wants to creep into girls’ bedroom or play a huge organ and sing about ze cheeld-ren of ze night. Too many damn myths being drilled into people’s heads.”
“So you can’t turn into a bat and fly around?”
“Fuck you.”
“But you are photosensitive and you do have to drink blood?”
Blake rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah. It’s like a medical condition I guess.”
“Do you eat anything else?” Phoenix asked, coming to the conclusion that Blake wasn’t get any angrier and so investigating the rumours wasn’t a suicidal idea.
“Do you eat anything other than ‘desire’ or whatever the hell people are calling it these days?”
“Point taken.”
“You’re going to sit there and list every stupid myth there is, aren’t you? Don’t try and look so innocent, I reckon I’m getting the hang of you now.”
Phoenix shrugged and lay back on the floor, mirroring Blake’s position on the sofa. He made a small, non-committal noise and laughed as Blake set his glass down with a decisive click. He wasn’t surprised when the leech leaned over the edge of the sofa and fixed him with a determined stare, hair hanging down around his cheekbones.
“Let’s get this out of the way, shall we?” he hissed.
“Ooh yes, let’s,,” Phoenix replied, gazing back up with a smirk. Blake pulled a face of revulsion before continuing with his rant regardless.
“I can’t turn into anything, no animals, no type of mist or anything stupid like that. I can’t fly or climb up walls. I can’t see in the dark much better than a normal guy and the only advantage I have comes from living in the dark rather than by nature. I can’t ‘turn’ anyone else into a leech and I wasn’t ‘made’ into one either, I was born this way. I age just like anyone else and I’m not gonna live forever, thank Christ.”
He took a deep breath before continuing and Phoenix got the impression that this was something he’d been wanting to say aloud for a long time, no matter what he had said about not wanting to stay.
“But, unfortunately, I’m not the same as you. If I don’t get blood from somewhere I go fucking mental. Imagine the worst stomach and head aches you’ve ever had. If they were happening at the same time and made it so that you had asthma and schizophrenia too, that’d be close to what it’s like. I don’t have to kill people, though, and I never want to again, whatever you might think of me.”
The leech’s expression was dark as he finished this tirade and Phoenix fought the urge to offer him a hug. It was clear the guy had worries that needed a lot more than a hug to solve but Phoenix wasn’t sure what else to offer. He started feeling a little guilty; he had suggested this but when it came down to it, he had very little information to offer Blake in return for his own confessions.
“I heal quickly so I’m pretty hard to kill,” he continued, oblivious to the change in Phoenix’s mood. “Anyone coming at me with a wooden stake would be really pissed to know my heart can heal even if it’s cut in two, it just takes a while. The only definite ways to kill me would be cutting off my head or setting me on fire, provided you make damn sure I burn all the way. Drowning doesn’t work since you’d have to keep me in water forever; the second I got air I’d start to heal.”
“Is it the same for all leeches?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You use yourself in all your examples. That’s not healthy.”
Blake waved this away with one hand and flopped back on to the sofa, wrist resting on his forehead.
“I think that’s it,” he said. “Unless you can think of anything else.”
“Holy water? Garlic? Being invited in? Not having a heartbeat? Breathing?”
“What do you think, smartass?”
Phoenix didn’t reply, lying back with a smile instead. After a long silent moment, he touched a hand to the wound in his shoulder.
“Fangs?” he asked in a hesitant voice, not wanting to push it too far. He was surprised when Blake just shrugged.
“See for yourself.”
Phoenix was up in an instant and knelt by the side of the sofa. He looked down at Blake, seeing the leech had closed his eyes. A tiny smile tugged at his lips although, if asked, he would not have been able to explain why. By closing his eyes, Blake was giving the impression that he was trusting Phoenix, despite being so vehement in his dislike and anger earlier. Phoenix wondered whether this was true or whether the guy was just drunk. Although, he didn’t appear drunk. Something to do with his healing abilities, perhaps.
He leant down, close to Blake’s face, and raised a hand to hover over his cheek. Thinking better of this, he touched a finger to Blake’s lips. Obediently, as if he had been expecting such a direct approach, Blake parted his lips, exposing what looked like perfectly normal teeth. Phoenix pressed a finger against the upper row, remembering the way his shoulder wound looked, and found the edges to be sharp and hard, like the edge of a thick sword. In contrast, the lower set was normal. He withdrew his finger but didn’t move away.
“I don’t need fangs,” Blake said once he could speak without slicing the end off of Phoenix’s finger. “If your teeth are sharp enough to break enough skin, you’ll get blood whether you hit a vein or not. It’s just more effective if you aim first. All of this hollow-tooth-straw shit is made up. I’m not like a snake, although that’d be much cooler than being like a bat.”
His explanation was greeted with silence. Phoenix moved forward almost imperceptibly, merlot eyes trained on Blake’s lips. With his eyes still shut, Blake managed to give off the impression of rolling them.
“You’re going to kiss me, aren’t you?”
Phoenix blinked.
“What gave you that idea?”
“I dunno. But you are, aren’t you?”
“Do you not want me to?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Well?”
“I’m not into guys.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’ll start caring if I punch you in the-“
Blake was getting sick of being interrupted that night, especially when the interruption came in the form of soft lips that tasted of vodka and coke. It had to be the taste that meant he didn’t turn his head away or make good on his threat of violence. Instead, he accepted the kiss, barely moving his own in response but not opening his eyes either. He only opened them when Phoenix pulled away after an interval that was much longer than it should have been. The incubus was smiling in a way that set Blake on edge.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
Choosing to ignore this, Blake swung himself up into a sitting position and looked at the closed curtains. Grey dawn light was starting to creep through the space at the bottom of the door.
“I need to go to sleep,” he said, wishing his voice was louder. “It’s been getting dark again at 4 recently so I can get a good ten hours sleep at least.”
“Ten hours?” Phoenix questioned, getting to his feet and holding out a hand to Blake that was pointedly ignored. “That’s a lot of sleep. Is this some-“
“No, it has nothing to do with being a leech,” Blake snapped, now standing beside the redhead and swaying slightly. His eyes were unfocussed and he visibly fought the urge to yawn. “I’m just lazy, okay? There’s no shame in that.”
Gesturing at Blake to follow him, Phoenix began heading down the hallway towards the bedroom.
“Just as there’s no shame in appreciating the human form.”
“Whatever, pervert.”
Once in the bedroom, where the curtains had been left drawn since Phoenix had left that morning, Blake eyed the bed with suspicion. Seeing as Phoenix had forgotten, again, Blake took the liberty of turning on the light. Shrugging his shirt off with practiced ease, the redhead went to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands. The silk sheets seemed to ripple under his weight. Catching Blake’s expression, which was slowly morphing into one of horror, he patted the bed.
“This is the darkest room I have,” he said, indicating the heavy velvet drapes that bunched up against the floor. “So it’s either here or fwoosh, right?”
“This was all just some elaborate plan to get me into bed, wasn’t it?” Blake questioned, face deadpan. “You sly bastard.”
Phoenix smirked but shook his head, effectively communicating that Blake might be right but his previous point was still valid.
“You’re gonna be sleeping here too, aren’t you?”
Another pat.
“Except I doubt you’re gonna be sleeping.”
“I have work at eleven, Blake. I need to sleep.”
Moving over to the bed as though approaching a dangerous animal, taking one step to the side for every step forward so that he was moving in a circle. Phoenix waited in silence until the leech was touching the bed with his knees, reaching out as soon as he was close enough to grab a wrist and pull Blake down next to him. Expecting to be jumped upon, Blake rolled away and sat up, now fully on the bed, to find that Phoenix hadn’t moved a muscle and was watching him with a grin.
“Where the hell do you work, anyway?” Blake asked, attempting to pretend the last few seconds hadn’t happened.
“Trust me,” Phoenix said, scooting himself back on the bed and wiggling out of his jeans, a movement enthusiastic enough to force Blake into averting his eyes. “You don’t want to know.”
“You’re right,” he said once the redhead was lounging back, sans clothes, looking far too confident. “I don’t.”
He turned away and slipped out of his own clothes, making sure he didn’t so much as glance at Phoenix whilst he did so. Once they had been tossed onto the floor, Blake moved back to lie on his side of the bed, facing outwards and so close to the edge he couldn’t relax his muscles for fear of falling. He could hear Phoenix take a breath behind him as if he was about to speak but after a moment the redhead got to his feet, presumably to turn off the light. Blake was confused when, instead of footsteps towards the switch, he heard a sigh.
“Hey,” Phoenix said in a quiet voice quite unlike the one Blake had become used to. “Turn over.”
“Why? What are you going to do to me if I do?”
“Show you something.”
“Hah, ‘cause that doesn’t sound suspicious.”
“It’s not. You told me so much tonight, whether you think it was important or not. I know you won’t accept me thanking you so I thought of one thing I could give back.”
“Tell me what it is before I turn over.”
There was another sigh and Blake almost turned over without his explanation but held out just long enough for Phoenix to speak.
“You know what I said about being able to alter people’s perceptions of my appearance? There’s something you might have missed.”
This piqued Blake’s usually dormant curiosity, if only because the redhead had been so sickeningly narcissistic all night. Hoping for something humiliating like spray tan gone wrong, Blake turned over. His eyes narrowed.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Look closer.”
Eyes trained on Blake’s face the whole time, Phoenix raised one of his hands and traced a line across his own stomach. Following the motion, Blake realised there was a blemish there, a mark that he was sure he would have noticed before. Not just one mark but three, three long scars that ran from one side of Phoenix’s body to the other as if some creature had tried to disembowel him with sharp claws.
“Most people would find these a little off-putting,” the redhead said with a self-deprecating smile.
“What are they?” Blake asked, voice void of the sympathy he could tell Phoenix wasn’t asking for.
Phoenix closed his eyes for a moment, weighing up his options, before crossing over to the switch and turning the light off with a click.
“You don’t want to know,” he said, voice drifting through the darkness.
“Right,” Blake replied, edging further towards the centre of the bed. “I guess I don’t.”
The bed dipped as Phoenix climbed back onto it and Blake waited for the man to make his move. He counted to thirty before anything happened.
“Blake?”
“Yeah, what?”
“Thanks for staying. I know you didn’t want to.”
“I thought you weren’t going to stay thanks?”
“Yeah but I want to anyway.”
“You’re making me sick. What happened to the macho, perverted, sleazy asshole I was talking to earlier?”
“He got sleepy.”
“Then go to sleep, idiot.”
Silence. This time, he managed to count to forty.
“See you tomorrow, Blake.”
A pause and then a quiet laugh.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
That night, the first night, their sleep was unbroken and they slept so far apart as to be alone.
Tada! I'd love to know if you had a favourite bit since the best bits of dialogue I might recycle when writing the actual novel project.Much love if you got through eeet.