Sex in the Sky

“Author’s notes: I really wasn’t happy with my last chapter. I was in a rush to upload it and I think that shows in how clipped the conversation is, especially with Nate; maybe in time I will post a revised version on the site, but in the meantime I am trying to finish what I’ve got. Secondly, this time round, I’ve needed to insert some plot, so there’s little in the way of sex. If you’re reading this to get off, go for one of the earlier chapters or find something else.”

*

The next thing I was conscious of was light streaming through the tiny, high windows of our underground room. The golden light of dawn illuminated the white bedsheets and gave our intertwined bodies an ethereal glow. Neill’s warm body weighed on my chest and left arm. My muscles were sore and I could not feel my fingers. Not that I minded terribly. The man I loved was curled up against my body, sleeping contentedly, the tears of the night before long forgotten. A strange feeling flowed through my veins and heated my face. It was satisfaction, wholeness, a feeling of having everything I wanted in my arms.

For the first time in the last two days, Neill looked truly calm. His head nestled into my chest, the skin smooth and free of worry. I could feel his lungs move with every breath. He made such endearing little whining, whistling noises that I probably would have laughed under any other circumstances. His fingers were clasped in handfuls of my grey singlet as if he was scared I would run away.

Gently, I brushed the tangle of blonde locks back so that I could see Neill’s peaceful, closed eyes. I couldn’t help but run my fingertips over the contours of his face, exploring the warm resilience of his cheeks, the soft, thin skin of his eyelids and the prickly half-centimetre growth of golden hair dusting his jaw. He flinched slightly and muttered something like ‘fuck off, Seamie’, then seemed to drift back to sleep. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I let my hand rest on his back and pulled the striped duvet up over us.

Eventually, Neill stirred and smiled at me. “Morning,” he yawned. “I could get used to this…”

“Used to what?” I asked.

“Waking up with my head on your chest, your ugly mug smiling at me,” he whispered with a grin. He braced himself against my chest and drew his head up above mine. His sleep-mussed hair hung like strands of misaligned silk around his face, causing his features to be partially cast in shadow. Not his eyes though, they glinted, large, fresh and blue, brimming with love for me.

I gently ran my fingers down his warm skin and drew Neill in for a kiss. “Is that all I am, a glorified pillow?” I teased as his lips brushed mine with the strange sensation of my stubble stroking his.

“Yes, idiot,” he told me, blue eyes flashing with mirth. “That’s all you are, a fucking pillow I make love to. What do you think?”

“A pillow you make love to? Not a pillow you shag?” I mused. My breath caught as his mouth went to work on my neck, teeth teasing the wet, spittle-warmed flesh. His hands smoothed over my singlet, the wrinkled fabric caressing the sweaty skin beneath. I pulled him closer and felt his morning arousal burn against mine.

“As much as I may have wanted it to be, it’s never just been shagging. You’ve pulled me in too deep for that, Seamus,” Neill joked between kisses, although I’m sure he meant it.

“Me and my magnetic personality, hmm?”

Neill choked, then chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that! You can be a grumpy beggar when you want to be… and you’re so damn obsessed with rugby… and your all-over tan and… you smell like socks.”

“You don’t always smell too hot yourself,” I growled, wrestling him over onto his back so that my body rested over him. I ground my pelvis to his and felt his back arch in response. His firm legs parted and hugged me to him so that my burgeoning erection fitted into the alcove between his thighs. Only the cotton of our boxers separated our aroused bodies. I thrust down again, enjoying the smile spreading across his face and the way his breath seemed to catch in his lungs. “Are those the best insults you could come up with?”

Neill shot back, “Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings, seeing as you’re such a pussy,” but his heart wasn’t in it. He was too busy groaning with need as his thighs tightened their grip on my waist and his hips humped against mine. I felt his hands snake their way under the hem of my singlet to lift the fabric over my head. “Why must you insist on wearing so many clothes in bed?”

The singlet became caught and I had to help him remove it. I couldn’t help but laugh as it struck the wall on the opposite side of room. Neill joined me in my laughter. “Someone’s eager,” I teased, repeating his own words of a day ago. I let my lips wander over his face as his hands stroked my back. In an unexpected move, my warm tongue lapped the ticklish hollow beneath his earlobe, a place where I knew touch sent shivers running down his spine.

“Not eager, just…” Neill whispered, softly gripping the thick muscle above my shoulder with his teeth.

He knew me well. Small, tingling explosions of pleasure radiated through my flesh. I moaned into his neck. “Just what?”

My cellphone, placed somewhere beneath something on my side of the room (as in, I had no idea where it was), began to chirrup the annoyingly bright ringtone I had set it to a few days earlier. “Fuck!” It had to be seven or eight in the morning. Nobody with any sense rings at that hour.

“Jesus, what the fuck is that?” Neill growled.

“I’d better answer it,” I said, struggling out of his grip. I walked across the room, my hard cock bobbing through the black cotton-lycra of my tight boxers. “Could be a client.” ‘Worse,’ I thought, ‘it could be that something has gone wrong with Dad.’ I don’t know why I thought that, but when someone rings that early, something must be up.

The phone was buried in the pocket of a pair of trackpants I had been wearing the day before. A local number that I didn’t recognise flashed across the screen. At least that ruled out anything concerning Dad. I flipped it open. “Hello?”

A gruff male voice asked, “Fraser, that you?” (Fraser is my surname).

“Yeah,” I answered. “Who’s this?”

“John Prentice. Sorry to ring so early but we’ve got to sort some stuff out. No doubt you’re already up?” Prentice was my rugby coach. That he was calling me at all was a good sign. Perhaps there was some truth in what Nathan had told me about Coach wanting to keep the Disciplinary Committee out of my fight with Liam.

“Of course, Coach.” I shot a look to Neill, who was intently staring at me from the bed. He smiled and ran a hand through the mass of golden hair standing from the firm muscles of his chest. I felt a rush of heat shoot through my body - need, want, desire.

Prentice had continued to talk while I studied Neill’s body. I hadn’t really been listening. “You there, Seamus?” he barked. That brought me back to earth.

“Yes,” I replied. “Still here.”

“Get your head out of the clouds, boy, and answer the damned question.”

Neill started to pinch at his delightfully hard nipples. I reluctantly turned away as he poked his tongue out at me. “Question?”

“Injuries from the fight, Fraser. What you got?”

“A few bruises, strained muscles, nothing much,” I answered.

“Liam has two cracked ribs, a sprained wrist and a broken nose,” Coach said, gruffly. “The doctors say he won’t be able to play for a few weeks without risking further damage. The idea of having to find two new players as good as you two, even among our subs, this near the Cup, is a fucking nightmare. So I discussed it with the University and my assistants and you’re gonna be able to play for us again. For the amount of fucking damage you’ve caused to Liam’s person, you should be before Disciplinary, if not before the police. This is a big chance for you, so don’t mess it up. Now I don’t give a flying fuck what you were fighting over but don’t you ever do it again with anyone, because if you do, I will make damn sure that you are not on my team to fuck it up for the rest of them. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cut the shit, Fraser. Get your arse down to the physio department and make sure everything’s working as well as it should be. I want you to be fit enough to play in the next game, understand? Practise is tomorrow. You will come and apologise to Liam and the rest of the team in a satisfactory manner. If you don’t, you can forget all this, ’cause your sorry arse will be before Disciplinary and off the team. You understand?”

“Perfectly,” I replied. Coach Prentice had a way of putting people on the spot and making them squirm before he crushed them. It was useless to argue with him, better to just listen to what he had to say and not complain. That he was giving me any sort of chance was a wonder in itself. I was angry that Liam was going to get away with everything he had done, but anger would get me nowhere. Not being able to play rugby for a few games was a good punishment for him, though I didn’t doubt that he was going to get his own back somehow. I know I should have said something about Liam’s sexual harassment, because that’s what it was, but Prentice was a gruff, rough, man’s man and there was no way in hell I’d subject myself and my sexuality to any kind of scrutiny by him. I’d heard all too many of his racist, sexist, bigoted jokes to believe he would treat me terribly kindly.

“Good,” Prentice snapped. “I have no time or place for hotheads on my team. You always struck me as a sensible bloke, so use your fucking sensibility and keep that proud nose of yours out of the shit, got it?”

“Of course, coach,” I said.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, he hung up. I flicked the phone shut and turned to Neill.

“I’m back on the team,” I told him. I explained the conversation, including having to apologise to Liam. “And, Liam’s not going to be able to play for a bit because I broke his ribs.”

Neill took a second or two to reply. The muscles of his face tensed unnaturally as he tried to pull off a smile while his brow was furrowed. “I suppose that’s a good thing,” he said, softly. “I know how much being part of the university team means to you and your ambitions, but what are you going to do if Liam comes after you again? You’re on the team as long as you behave. What if he makes it so you can’t behave? I know you’re not going let him touch you or do any of that shit he was trying to pull last night, but what happens if he does? If you can’t hit him, then what the fuck are you going to do?”

I took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I’ll just have to stay out of his way. If I make sure I’m never in the position to be alone with him, then I’ll be alright.” I sunk down on the mattress beside him, my feet hanging off to brush the floor.

He watched me with a wary expression on his face, or at least I thought so. “Well, you know what I want to do, however impractical it might be.”

“Beat the shit out of Liam?” I asked. Neill nodded, chuckling slightly. “I’m glad that you’ve decided that it’s not a possibility. You were pretty angry last night.”

“I had every right to be angry! I love you, and to see you getting hurt like that- it’s just disgusting,” Neill snapped. “I just hate to see him getting away with this shit. You aren’t the first person he’s done this to and if someone doesn’t do something about it, you won’t be the last either. I know that we can’t beat him up and I know that you don’t want to report him, I just don’t know what the hell else we can do.”

“Maybe we should just let sleeping dogs lie,” I said. “We can decide what to do when Liam makes his next move.” Neill’s face had a somewhat crestfallen expression. The anger seemed to have faded to a hostile acceptance of the facts. I thought his eyes shone a little more than usual, but it could have been the way the morning light caught them. His right fist was gripping the sheet so tightly that his knuckles were white. I gently brought my own hand down on his and stroked the tension away. “I’m sure everything will be alright.”

Neill smiled. “Of course it will be.” He leant over and kissed my cheek as his hand cupped the back of my head to pull me close. “Everything will be fine.”

We lay back on the bed, kissing ardently. His lips plucked at mine as his tongue darted into the velvety warmth of my mouth. Our saliva laced with the twining of our tongues. Prickly heat shot over my sweaty skin as my heart missed a beat. “I love you,” I whispered. “I think I have loved you since I first saw you.” I remembered sitting nervously on my hard new bed, waiting for my new roommate. Neill had strolled in like he owned the place, a smile that could light a room adorning his face. He extended his warm hand, making some quip about what a shit room we had wound up with. I felt instantly at ease around him. He always seemed able to bring out the best in me. “As I’ve gotten to know you, the love has grown so much. I can’t believe how good you’ve been to me and how happy you make me feel every time I look at you.” The words that I had wanted to say the night before flooded to the surface, yet once again, they didn’t feel strong enough to describe the depth of emotion in my heart.

I had a lot of regret regarding what had happened the night before. I felt like we had had a cheap fuck, when what I had really wanted was to make love. All the shouting and gasping about how big Neill’s cock was and how much I wanted a hard fuck had clouded or distorted my true intent. I lost control with Neill that night, just as I always did. The passion took over and raw energy rushed through me, spilling out of my mouth in a series of easily crude words. I couldn’t stop my body moving harder and faster, thrusting forward to feel every inch of Neill’s body in me, around me, running through my veins and filling the dark recesses of my most intimate parts. I loved him; he became a part of me. I needed him, everywhere at once, so that I knew that he was really with me and it wasn’t just another dream.

Love was there, beating strongly in my heart and pulsing through my veins, but I couldn’t speak my feelings! After all the agony of believing that Neill did not feel the same way, I was the one that could only say the words when he prompted me with his own declaration. I don’t know why that happened, I suppose it is easier to yell out, “Fuck me hard!” than “I love you! I never want to let you go!” Saying “I love you” bares you to the soul and makes you feel vulnerable to hurt from the person who could hurt you the most, the one you love. I realise now how hard it was for Neill to say.

Being caught yelling, “Fill my arse with your big long cock!” by Nathan opened me up to another form of vulnerability, the fear of ridicule. Nate was a very old friend and I did care what he thought, but whatever happened, I loved Neill and others would have to like it or lump it. No skin off my nose either way. I was less worried about Nate’s opinion than I was by the way Neill had taken being caught in the act. His words had been short and terse when we went to bed, yet he’d slipped quickly into sleep, as if there wasn’t really anything on his mind.

My mind was completely distracted when Neill smiled that beautiful smile. “I’m not one for describing my feelings particularly well, but-” I saw his bright blue eyes flicker from their focus on mine for a second as if he was searching for the right words. His warm hand stroked over my morning-furred cheek. “I love you, Seamus. You’re the first person I’ve allowed this close to me. I’ve always felt scared about letting anybody know… how messed up, I am, I suppose. You seem to be able to stop me doing stupid stuff, and I’m not saying you’re a glorified nanny, it’s more that you sort of know what I’m thinking and can talk me down. I don’t normally listen to anyone, except Jill, and she doesn’t know everything. I don’t talk about myself much, you know, emotional stuff, but I do love you. I want you to know that I always will.” He kissed either side of my face, burying the warm swell of his lips in my neck. Hearing those words knocked all the breath from my lungs and sent my heart beating in overdrive.

Gently I stroked my fingers through his hair, causing him to raise his head until it was a breath’s distance from mine. I could taste all his scents, the fruity kick of his shampoo, the stale tang of yesterday’s aftershave, coupled with a masculine, musky sweatiness. His hair framed our faces, the ends brushing against my skin. “Look at me, Neill,” I whispered. Excited, nervous blood pounded through my body. I could hear it drum between my ears, feel it throbbing at my pulse points and in the head of my frantically engorged erection. You require energy and faith to talk from your soul. Protecting your soul are a series of masks; reflections of what people want you to be, what you have to be, what you think you need to be. To allow somebody close enough to see you without those defences takes a lot of strength. I found telling Neill that I loved him to be the most frightening and exhilarating thing that I had ever done. I definitely wanted him to know, but all the same… it was scary.

Neill watched me with a slightly agitated expression on his face. His bottom lip trembled in a terribly inviting manner. I realised then that I could crush him just by saying the wrong thing; it wasn’t just my feelings that were at stake anymore. The sensation of his firm hands on my shoulders lent me strength. We were in this together. I took a deep breath and finished my sentence, “I love you so much, and I’m glad that you feel the same, but I got to tell you some stuff. I’m scared. I don’t want to be judged or abused by the people around me for being myself. But the more I think about that, the more I know that if people are my friends, they aren’t going to reject us. I’m more scared of hurting you than I am of what people think. I don’t want to do something stupid and wreck what we’ve got. I don’t want to imagine what it would be like to not have you near me. I was so scared of telling you that I loved you because I thought-” I floundered. I couldn’t voice the fears that had been kicking my emotions through my mind. I was so glad when Neill took up where I had left off. He was the only person that understood exactly where I was coming from. I just wish he’d been able to share that tiny piece of him that he held back - that scared, bleeding boy who was unjustifiably guilty and didn’t believe he deserved to be loved at all. If only I had known…

Neill whispered, “You thought that I wouldn’t want you as much as you wanted me. You thought I’d reject you and it would ruin our friendship, because to you it was only casual sex. The fact that I said I loved you and you didn’t return my feelings would always be hovering there between us. You would become so uncomfortable around me that you would pack your bags and shift out. If I saw you again, you wouldn’t want to talk to me or even worse, you would, and we’d have one of those awkward, sterile conversations. It would feel so cold and horrible to have to face you when you didn’t feel anything for me. That’s how I felt and it messed with my head like crazy.

“I lied to myself, first that I didn’t have any feelings for you and wasn’t attracted to you. Then I lied to myself that it was just sex and we’d both get past it. It was never just sex. I felt- I feel like my heart’s gonna explode every time I touch you or look at you. It scared the shit out of me for ages. I’ve never felt that way before; if I did, I would probably have had myself checked for a heart condition ages ago. Before you came along, I’d never worried so much about hurting someone. I was a love-em-and-leave-em kind of person. I didn’t want anybody anywhere near me and I certainly didn’t want somebody in my head! It’s uncomfortable enough with Jill trying to second-guess my every move. But you’re different, you’re my friend and I trust you like I can’t trust other people. I love you! I- I’ve never sat watching somebody sleep for five or six hours, so spellbound that I couldn’t even pick up a book and so concerned that I thought just looking at you might make you better,” Neill whispered. The glittering trail of tears on his cheek mirrored my own brimming eyes.

He was still sucking Rayne”s fingers gently in the darkness when the singer”s other hand came up, hesitantly at first, running through his pale, tangled hair to caress the nape of his neck. He withdrew his fingertips from the boy”s mouth, then, more insistently, Rayne Wylde pulled his companion”s moist lips down onto his, kissing him with a savage hunger of his own.

Danny broke the kiss first, pulling away to whisper into his mouth; “D”you want to go somewhere more private?”

RAYNE

In spite of his resolve to seduce the boy from the front of the Apollo crowd, (Daniel… Danny, he reminded himself firmly) Rayne found himself surprised by the youngster”s willingness to be with him. He prided himself on his ability to judge a personality and he had already calculated that Danny would be pliable and possibly a little naive. That had been a mite shy of the mark. Already he had figured out that this kid was no pushover. Getting him drunk - or trying to - had not seemed to work and he was beginning to wonder if this endeavour had been worth the effort, when Danny followed him down the stairs. The boy”s concern had been a surprise. What he had not bargained for was that Dan would “physically” want him just as much as “he” wanted Dan.

Charley Collister was outside with the Merc when they finally emerged into the cool Mancunian night. Rayne was still limping slightly from his tumble down the stairs, which allowed him to lean against Daniel for support, one arm draped loosely around the boy”s slim shoulders. His lips still tingled from the ferocity of their recent kiss.

Danny Weston, on the other hand, seemed impervious to the moment of intimacy faced with their mode of transport back to the Midland Hotel. His hands wandered like a child”s over the gleaming bodywork of Charley”s black stretch Mercedes and he made little sounds of awe and appreciation, which clearly charmed big Chaz to the soles of his ox-blood Doc Martens.

“This is amazing!” the kid breathed settling into the supple, soft, ebony leather of the Merc”s immaculate upholstery. His fingers still wandered over every little feature of the car, exploring electric window switches and folding arm rests, locating the mini-bar in the back seat quite by accident.

Rayne fished a miniature Stolichnaya from the cache and with some magnanimity said; “Help yourself!”

Thumbing an overhead switch he dimmed the interior lights and a tiny portable TV screen descended smoothly from the roof and replayed the night”s gig for them in muted tones. Charley slipped into the driver”s seat and gunned the engine and the Mercedes slipped silently away into the Manchester night.

“I need to make a pick-up, Chaz,” Rayne Wylde told his driver in that same languid, gravel-toned voice that Danny recognised from the songs. “Just a couple of grams. Nothin” heavy.”

Charley”s eyes met his sceptically in the rear-view mirror. “I should clear it with Matt, Chief.”

“Matthew won”t mind,” Rayne lounged in the back seat still rolling the tiny bottle between his palms. “I”m not over my spending limit,” he added persuasively. “And we don”t play the next gig “til Monday.”

Danny glanced at him, speculatively he thought. Rayne met the kid”s wide blue eyes and winked reassuringly. Taking a deep breath, Daniel said; “I”ve got some stuff. Just a little bit, if you want to share.”

“We”re not talkin” blotters “ere,” Rayne chuckled at him and unscrewed the cap of his bottle, downing the contents in one.

“Coke,” Danny said at once. From the driver”s seat Charley was looking him over again via the mirror. His expression was far from approving. Rayne was less judgmental.

“You are a fuckin” angel,” he exclaimed, wrapping himself around the boy and kissing him again. He was less restrained this time, getting his fingers inside Daniel”s cropped t-shirt and snug-fitting jeans, even as his warm, wet tongue explored the cavern of the boy”s half-open mouth. This time Danny made no attempt to resist his groping hands.

TO BE CONTINUED……

It was not in his nature to weep. He had not shed tears for over seven centuries but his heart weighed heavy in his chest as he waited. At last he let his head sink into his hands and rested his eyes. He had been bowed over like this for some time when the bedclothes rustled quietly beside him and he lifted his head immediately. Rayne was staring blankly at him, a bewildered expression on his gaunt, handsome face.

“Who the fuck are ‘you’?” he croaked weakly. “What happened? Where ‘am’ I?”

RAYNE

Rayne listened almost impassively as the tall, imposing stranger told him in soothing, unhurried words what had come to pass during the night. He recalled the fits coming on, struggling suddenly to breathe as though a hand had closed tight over his windpipe, strangling him by degrees. Then there had been nothing; he had slipped backward into a dark, cold place and lain there for an age.

Since waking, he had been overcome by a wrongness that he could not account for. It had taken him nearly an hour, listening as the man called Jabez Everman told of what had been done whilst he was unconscious, to realise that he was hearing things and feeling things that were outside his normal sphere of awareness. He could smell food cooking in the kitchens five floors down and - closer to home - he could smell Danny’s lean, warm, vibrant body on the next bed. In spite of his anxiety, that recalled the night before to him more clearly. Thinking back on what they had done, he could virtually taste Danny’s tongue, and cock, in his mouth. More disturbingly, he could smell the youngster’s blood; the raw, iron tang of it in the back of his throat made his stomach churn queasily, but it was not the discomfort of nausea, it felt more like extreme hunger pangs.

His hearing was more acute. The conversations of people in other rooms kept disturbing him and he became uncomfortably aware of an argument which he sensed involved Matty and Si’ who were taking his side against Charley. They were ‘discussing’ him in his absence! An irrational anger surfaced and he forced it down again, trying to listen ‘and’ make sense of what the handsome stranger was telling him.

“I feel wobbly,” he said hoarsely at one point.

“That is because you require sustenance,” said Jabez. He pressed a smile onto his face, which presumably he hoped was comforting. It only served to make Rayne feel more nervous.

“I never eat in the morning,” the singer declared. “It makes me sick.”

“You are newly Turned,” Jabez pointed out incomprehensibly. “You need fresh blood and quickly or your body will attempt to hibernate.”

Rayne blinked slowly. He murmured; “This is the weirdest fuckin’ trip I have ever had!”

Jabez shook his head impatiently and stalked to the other bed. He jerked Danny to his feet and dragged the boy back with him, dumping him onto the covers beside Rayne. The singer experienced another wave of disorientation, conscious that Danny was bleeding from a head wound. He could smell the blood. It was making him salivate.

“Observe,” said Jabez implacably. He knelt by the bedside and forced Daniel’s blond head back roughly. The boy whimpered, deep in shock. Ignoring his feeble protest, Jabez Everman extended dog-teeth almost as long as Rayne’s little finger and sank them into the boy’s exposed throat as easily as if he was biting into a slice of cake. Rayne winced at the tearing of flesh and the greedy sucking noises emanating from the youngster’s wounded neck.

“‘Jesus Christ Almighty, Jabez’!” he exclaimed in shocked tones. “What the fuck are you ‘doing’? Are you insane?”

The Vampire lifted his head, looking up at his young protégé intently, his striking features masked in blood. He smiled again, baring dangerous looking fangs.

“He tastes so good,” the huge, impassive fellow told him encouragingly. “You know you want to, Rayne. I can feel every nerve in your body screaming for it.”

“I ‘can’t'! I can’t drink ‘blood’ for crying out loud!” Rayne stared at him incredulously. He wanted to wake up. He was desperate to fling himself up and out of this mad dream. It simply could not be real. Rock music was full of weird characters but in no walk of life did you wake to find a Vampire sitting by your bed coaxing you to suck the blood of the boy you spent last night fucking. It did not happen outside of Urban Legend.

“It doesn’t have to be so difficult. If you’d let me help you….”

He got no further. “I’ve told you,” Rayne screamed at him. “I don’t want your help! I want you to leave me the fuck alone!”

Jabez put on his implacable face again. “You have to feed at some time. The sooner after your Turning, the better. If you cannot cope with feeding from humans, or other Vampires, there is always animal blood, although that is normally a last resort,” he explained pleasantly as if this made everything all right again.

Unfortunately, his idea of a soothing remark did not currently fit his hysterical companion’s mindset. Rayne only stared at him as though the fellow had suggested he should commit hara kiri during his next live performance. He was trembling with combined shock and fury.

“I ‘can’t’ drink blood! I’m a fuckin’ ‘vegetarian’!”

Jabez stared back at him neutrally as if this was a concept he simply could not comprehend. At last he gave up the pressure and left Rayne to his own devices. Danny still sprawled, unconscious on the bed beside him, mercifully out of it by now. The singer stroked his hair miserably and shivered like a junky coming down. This was almost worse than the spell of Cold Turkey he had gone through the winter before last, trying to kick his taste for Heroin. Simon had locked him in a room for seven days and enlisted Charley to make sure that he did not find ways to escape. He had been sicker than a dog, and more miserable than at any point since his teens.

He ached and felt tired. His body simply did not have the energy to obey simple commands. ‘And’ he was ravenously hungry. With every minute that passed the hunger gnawed at his belly until he thought he would faint.

He was still trembling violently as he bent his head to kiss Danny’s throat where the lunatic had bitten him. The wound was healing but he could still taste blood on the boy’s soft, cooling skin. He licked gently, then more urgently, filling his mouth with the coppery, salty taste. When it was all gone, he stroked Danny’s hair, then nipped the boy’s flesh ever so gently between his teeth drawing a small, fresh bead of brilliant vermilion to the surface like a fallen berry on a field of snow. Rayne stared at it in sick fascination. He ran his tongue over his teeth and started in shock at the unexpected protuberance of his own canines. The single jewel of bright blood was delicious but he wanted more. It was like discovering the source of a frustrating itch, once he began to scratch it there was no stopping until it was completely alleviated.

Rayne Wylde sank his teeth ever so slowly into Danny’s neck and let his mouth fill with the lush heat of his lover’s blood. In his dreams he had never imagined a high like this. It was better than drugs, and almost better than sex. His cock stiffened in response to the stimulus and, if he was conscious of Jabez’s coolly detached observation from the bathroom doorway, he ignored it now. Ravenously he fed one hunger and as the lust for blood was slaked he began to satisfy another. Spreading Danny’s long, slim legs, he exposed the boy’s tender arsehole and savagely bucked his erection into the insentient youngster’s tight passage. It was bliss to bury his face in the hollow of Daniel’s gore-streaked neck and shoulder as he fucked the unresisting youth and bit down deep and hard again. A fresh bloom of blood filled his mouth and he fed without restraint this time not ceasing until both his hungers were satisfied.

THE AFTERGLOW

“Is he dead?” Once the passion of the moment was quenched, Rayne allowed himself to feel penitent. He was in the bathroom, washing the blood from his face and hair and gazing curiously at himself in the oval mirror.

Back in the bedroom, Jabez bent over the boy, licking his bloody skin clean delicately.

“Not yet,” the older Vampire replied. “At least, his heart still beats. He is weak, however. Maybe it would be kinder to finish him.”

Rayne shook his head incredulously. He would not consider that. Not just yet.

“I can ’see’ my reflection.”

Jabez ventured a tolerant smile. “It is just a fairy tale… that you cannot see Vampires in a mirror. At least, it is so long as the Vampire wishes to be seen.” He shrugged off his coat and suit jacket and unfastened his shirt. “The business with crosses and garlic is a load of nonsense too. Stories to comfort superstitious fools!”

“I’m immortal?” Rayne asked neutrally, the attempt at humour passing him by.

“Roughly so…” Jabez was shaking his head appreciatively. “You ‘can’ be killed, if someone takes out your heart or removes your head, but you won’t get old and you certainly won’t die of natural causes.” He rose and unfastened his trousers, letting them cascade to the floor and stepping clear of them.

“I’ll be thirty years old forever?”

Again, Jabez nodded. He had come to stand behind the younger Vampire now and his frost-blond hair tumbled forward, freed from its braid, partly obscuring his solemn, handsome face. Rayne took a moment to note that he was completely nude and also that he had a magnificent body. His stomach and chest muscles were sculpted in firm, golden flesh, rippling down into a flat abdomen and powerful thighs. He had an impressive hard-on. Rayne’s eyes took in the upward jut of his enormous, circumcised cock and calculated that it had to be at least a foot long. His groin was hairless like the rest of his sleek, golden body. He made Rayne think of a magnificent white tiger, prowling and waiting to pounce. The singer wondered what it would be like to fellate that massive prick.

“And ‘you’ did this to me… ‘without’ my permission?” he demanded imperiously to hide his awe.

“It was either that or leave you to die. I was not prepared to do the latter,” the Everman said casually.

“Oh, well ‘that’s all right then!” The singer exhaled a short, disdainful breath through his nostrils and flexed his fingers. The flesh was cool - not quite cold - but a good, pale, natural colour. It was still very hard to believe. In fact he would have dismissed it out of hand and phoned security to get the stranger thrown out if it was not for the fact that he ‘knew’ it was true. He had just drunk blood from the neck of an unconscious boy and not wanted to retch. He could hold his breath indefinitely without feeling that he might explode. He felt intensely ‘aware’ all the time.

“So…” Rayne hesitated, glancing warily at Jabez now. “So - let me get this right. You’ve been stalking me for months. You barged into my room and bit me. And now I’m a fuckin’ Vampire?”

“That is correct,” Jabez nodded. “Actually I have followed you for centuries. Not in this same incarnation, quite naturally. But, yes, I have been watching you. In order to preserve your existence, of course.”

Rayne looked visibly unhappy. He blinked several times, struggling with his emotions. “But… forgive me for any indelicacy here – but… I’m ‘dead’?”

Jabez sighed heavily and patiently. “Sort of,” he responded at last.

The singer nodded slowly, feeling numb. He was trying very hard to be reasonable but a large, cold sense of panic was starting to rise in his chest. He realised with a sudden jolt that he was not breathing and reminded himself strictly to do so. That was about where the anxiety took over.

“So I’m ’sort of’ dead?” he reaffirmed a touch hysterically.

“Only in the sense that you’re not technically ‘alive’,” the older Vampire told him with infuriating placidity. “It will be fine, Rayne. Vampires are sired every day and their lives go on. ‘You’ will be fine.”

“No…” Rayne answered him, shaking his head more fiercely. Anger helped. It focused him. “It will not ‘ever’ be fuckin’ fine! I’m fuckin’ ‘dead’! I do not fuckin’ think that is ‘fine’, Jabez!”

The tall, white maned creature kissed the back of his neck soothingly and Rayne shivered with a nameless longing. He stared at his reflection unhappily, beginning to believe that he was actually going insane. Jabez Everman kissed him again, more intimately. The touch of his mouth felt good, in spite of the tension in his shoulders.

“You do not ‘feel’ dead, do you?” he breathed and the words sowed shivers of pleasure through the singer’s lean, unclad body.

He certainly did not feel dead. In fact he felt more alive right now than he had in years. He was tingling with anticipation, buzzing with a thousand sensations. The urge to run out into the street naked and shout his feelings to the sky was almost overwhelming. Powerful arms folded around him. He shook his head.

“Well then?” The Everman released him with a little shrug and returned to the bedroom to feed briefly from Danny Weston. When he lifted his gaze from the boy’s bloody neck, Rayne was staring critically at him. Jabez said; “He gave you poison. He would have stood by and watched you die. Why are you so protective of him?”

“I don’t know. Because no one else seems to be,” Rayne pulled a sceptical face. “You think he gave me the coke on purpose? To kill me?”

“Don’t you?” Jabez spread Daniel’s legs and probed at him with that impossibly long tool.

“Leave him alone,” Rayne ordered tersely. “Isn’t it enough for you that he’s going to die? Do you have to humiliate him too?”

“You did,” Jabez pointed out.

Rayne looked at his feet, suddenly sickened by what he had done. His dark hair tumbled around his face like a screen. Only when Jabez gently brushed his forelock out of his eyes did he even realise that the older Vampire had risen. Now he touched his lips to Rayne’s mouth and breathed; “You have her compassion.”

“What are you talki…?” Rayne did not get to finish the enquiry for he was suddenly overwhelmed by the passion of another mouth on his own. The Everman’s hot, wet tongue glided between his teeth and they kissed intimately as the masterful ancient pulled Rayne down onto the empty bed. His strong hands fondled and caressed Rayne’s naked body as they had longed to on the previous night and the singer submitted to his kisses and the sweep of his rough, wet tongue. Long fingers probed between his cheeks and pressed into his anus as firstly his neck and throat, then his torso, in particular his nipples, received a thorough nibbling and sucking. Rayne groaned in astonishment, writhing down onto the intrusive digits that pulsed into him rhythmically. He was not one of nature’s born submissives, but to attempt domination of this particular Alpha Male was beyond his imagination. He allowed the Vampire to finger him for several minutes as they kissed on the bed.

When Jabez urged his head down towards the nodding bell-end, Rayne did not resist. He ‘had’ wondered, after all… That huge dick was hot and throbbing as he caressed it’s glossy helm with his lips and Jabez growled softly and pleasurably, manoeuvring him around so that he could use his deft tongue in Rayne’s exposed crack. For the second time in twelve hours, Rayne allowed a man to tongue-fuck his rectum. He managed to get his lips around the head of Jabez’s enormous tool at the same time and nodded slowly now, taking the big, beautiful Vampire into his mouth bit by bit until he had swallowed about ten inches of cock. Rayne was in heaven, he had already calculated that if he no longer had to breathe it was technically possible to take this monster prick all the way. His own rod was stiff and pulsing in the other Vampire’s rubbing hand as Jabez enthusiastically frenched his arsehole, getting him slippery and pliable.

When Rayne was finally nuzzling his balls, Jabez pulled out of his mouth and the singer groaned eagerly, all too prescient about what was to come. The older Vampire rolled him smoothly onto his belly, holding him by the hips with those powerful hands and parting his firm, white cheeks. Rayne uttered a little moan of anxiety and longing as that well sucked cock head nudged up between his legs, against his slick, wet hole. Roughly now it thrust through his tight ring into the softer, more accommodating depths of his anus. As a teenager, Rayne had taken plenty of men this way, but it had been a good few months since he last submitted to buggery, and years since he’d had a cock anywhere near this size.

He groaned out loud, but did not pull away.

With about half of Jabez’s erection inside him, Rayne began to cry out in arousal and astonishment at every thrust. His undead lover was penetrating him at an agonisingly steady pace, bucking it into him at about an inch per minute. After ten minutes Rayne was writhing and shouting incoherent abuse. At a little over eleven minutes he exploded, spurting cum over his chest and belly and the duvet beneath his knees. Jabez took his time, pulsing firmly for almost a quarter of an hour until Rayne finally felt his lover’s heavy balls between his thighs. He rested there for a moment then began to pump harder. Rayne yelped his appreciation as that mighty tool started pounding him, tormenting his prostate until he was ready to cum again bare minutes after his first climax.

“You are fabulous,” the older Vampire growled huskily, fucking him more energetically as he sensed that Rayne was becoming used to his size and scope. “And incredibly beautiful! I have watched you and dreamed about you for so long.”

He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the singer and sitting back so that Rayne was pulled into his lap, riding on him like a creature demented. His lips raked the younger man’s neck and shoulders as they coupled, communicating with little pleasurable sounds; whimpers and moans and sighs of satisfaction.

“Do you like it?” Jabez asked him, having manoeuvred them both so that Rayne could watch himself in the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door. The singer eased up and down like a stretching cat on his hard pole. An odd little smile played about his full lips as he observed the reflection of his lithe body and his lover’s more muscular frame. He positioned himself in order to be able to watch the Everman’s humungous cock moving in and out of him then writhed sinuously up and down on him like a well-trained whore.

“Touch me,” he panted at last, neither acknowledging nor answering the question. “Make me cum.”

Compliant, Jabez did as he commanded. Fisting the singer’s throbbing eight inches vigorously, he soon coaxed his raven-haired beloved to orgasm. The tightening of Rayne’s muscles milked his own penis and he pressed the beautiful young male into the bedclothes then and fucked him violently up the arse. It had been a long, frustrating time since he last had sex this good and Jabez revelled in every last moment of it.

After he had spilled his copious seed into Rayne’s deliciously submissive body, he curled around the singer possessively and held his sweat and cum-sticky body close. To his amazement, Rayne was trusting enough (or exhausted enough, he was not sure which) to fall asleep in his embrace. Jabez held him for as long as he dared, unwilling to relinquish the intimacy now that he finally had it, but knowing in his heart that soon he must. If Rayne was to be protected then he could not stay here.

MORNING

When Rayne Wylde opened his eyes, it was with some confusion. He was woken by a violent hammering on the door of his suite and sat up with a start as the memories slowly returned; memories of blood and madness. His first thought was that he had to get the bedding hidden and move Danny before people began to ask difficult questions. So it was that he found himself perplexed by the fact that he was utterly alone in the suite and the bed next to his own did not appear to have been slept in at all. He peered beneath the duvet and under the beds just to be sure, then checked in the spotless bathroom as well before stumbling to the door and letting Matty Greening in.

“What the bloody hell does it take to wake you up?” his young manager demanded furiously. “We was supposed to check out about ‘alf an hour ago. I was just going down to get security. I thought you was dead!”

Rayne blinked at him. It was tempting to tell Matt that he ‘was’ dead and go back to bed. His head ached and his mouth felt disgustingly dry. He merely shook his rumpled mane and retreated to the bathroom.

“Where’d you bugger off to last night anyway?” Matt wanted to know sulkily.

“Just back here.” Rayne looked out at him with a small, humourless smile. “I fancied an early night.”

“The day I believe that’s the day they put me in the ground next to you,” Matty said cynically. “Was you wiv that blond kid?”

“No. He went home,” Rayne lied, thinking; ‘He went ’somewhere’, anyway!’

“You sure you’re awright?” Matt got to his feet, suddenly tired of the inquisition. It was early and few of the Whipsnade entourage did mornings with any degree of enthusiasm.

“I’ll be fine. Just a weird trip, that’s all. Don’t worry about me.” Rayne looked uncomprehendingly at his reflection in the mirror. It stared back at him, large as life.

“END OF PART TWO”

“TO BE CONTINUED…”