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This party seemed to drag on for eternity.
Vox Akuma was not a man of such festivities. Although he has a whole eternity yet ahead of him, this wasn’t exactly his ideal way of spending it. He preferred a quiet life on the outskirts of the city, albeit in a fairly large mansion passed down to him through his family, with only himself and his books to keep him company. Necessity was the only force that brought him out of his home. Seeing everything change and die all around you for centuries tends to make one feel a bit isolated.
How he managed to get roped into an extravagant dinner party at the center of town, he did not know. Something about celebrating the fruitful career of an old friend of a friend whose name he could hardly care to remember. And an easy dinner. What he does know now is that he wants nothing more than to be on his way home. Or at least, away from the smell of obnoxious perfume and mindless small talk.
Thus, he finds himself leaning against the banister of the top balcony, the voices and distant scent of second hand smoke all but lost to him. The chill of the late-night air is a welcomed feeling as he feels his headache start to fade. He is just starting to zone out when a voice pulls him back to the present.
“Having too much fun in there, huh?”
Vox turns to see someone he hadn’t met before. A man, with light colored hair—blue at the tips—dressed in a simple black dress shirt comes to lean next to him on the balcony.
“Something like that…”
The man sighs, leaning his weight on the railing. “I don’t know why I even agreed to this anyway. I guess it’s good exposure for me. Though I doubt anyone here cares about what I’ve got to say.”
Vox turns to look at him, an eyebrow arched in question, “Good exposure?”
“Oh!” He meets this man’s eyes for the first time, and the smile that reflects back at him almost makes him melt on the spot. He has met a lot of people in his time, but he can’t think of one who compares to the man standing in front of him on the balcony. “I’m a novelist. Meeting these kinds of people kind of comes with the territory.” He writes novels? That’s already far more intriguing that whatever the sheep inside concern themselves with. Managers, collectors, “celebrities” Vox couldn’t concern himself with learning about.
“How interesting. Although I’d have to agree, these types of events aren’t really to my taste to be honest.” Ike nods at that before looking out over the city. “Oh, I apologize, how rude of me. My name is Vox. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too Vox.” There’s that smile again. Oh what he would give to see it for the rest of eternity.
The lights of the city reflect in Ike’s glasses like hundreds of little fireflies. Vox wants nothing more than to be closer to this man, to study every inch of his beautiful figure and claim it as his own. And don’t even get him started on how good he smelled. Even from where they are right now, he could practically smell how delicious he is. His mouth was practically watering, and if he wasn’t careful, his fangs might come out against his will.
Ike sighs and Vox realizes the silence he left between them. He offers a sheepish laugh. “I’m sorry, if I’m not that good at carrying a conversation, I don’t get out that often. Even if I act a charmer, I am a bit out of my depth speaking with new people. Not to mention all the small talk this evening has been exhausting.”
Ike laughs. A beautiful sound. How Vox wishes it wasn’t polluted by the chatter inside and the cars beneath them. “You seem like you would much rather be at home. So what is it that drew you here then?”
The truth to that question is dinner. It’s been a while since Vox has had a proper meal and a party full of dozens of warm bodies, all fattening themselves up? He wouldn't dare reject an invite to a dinner party. “I figured it would be polite to accept the invitation. It’s not often that I go out so it’s good to keep up appearances every once in a while.”
There was a loud pop coming from inside that is dampened by the expansive doors. Champagne. He didn’t need heightened senses to tell the humans were indulging themselves.
“Do you have any plans?” Vox asks. “Perhaps—if you fancy it—you may accompany me home?” While he did hide it well, Vox could still sense Ike’s surprise at the offer. “I apologize for being a bit forward… like I said I don’t get out often. I understand if you are not comfortable with that, I just figured I would ask, seeing how we both want out of here…”
“No need to worry. In fact, I’m thinking of taking you up on that offer. It would certainly be less exhausting than this place.”
It was Vox’s turn to smile, but he had his own reasons. This poor man doesn’t know what awaits him back at his mansion. A giant lonely house filled with beautiful paintings, books from long lost authors, and much less people than this place. Or at least, none that are alive and speaking.
“Remarkably trusting, arent you? That’s good—that’s very good.” Ike seems to shrug the comment off, as if he has trouble believing in people with bad intentions.
It almost hurts him, to have to corrupt a beautiful and trusting creature such as this novelist. So open to speaking what’s on his mind. So open to letting others know how he feels. So open to following a stranger home. Maybe he’ll take his time with this one.
The vampire stands up straight, turning to Ike in question. “Then how about it? Shall we make our grand exit?”
He offers Ike his hand. Ike takes it. A sign of trust. The novelist lets out another pretty laugh as this beautiful stranger whisks him away into the night.
——
Surprisingly, this is not how Ike was expecting his evening to go, though he wasn’t opposed to it. He simply let the older man lead him to his car, watching mindlessly out the window as the bright buildings faded to the dark serenity of nature. Vox kept the radio off for the ride, which Ike didn’t mind, as the air was filled with the muffled outdoor ambiance and the back and forth of conversation. Vox had a surprising amount of literature knowledge under his belt—someone who can finally keep up with Ike’s ranting. He even had a fondness for the older and more niche literature that Ike also enjoys, although Vox’s knowledge goes further into the past than Ike can even imagine.
It takes about an hour to drive out of the city and reach Vox’s place, which happens to be a very large and very noble-looking mansion. It’s hard to believe Vox has been living here alone all this time. It must be lonely, and Ike imagines it’s easy to get lost in here.
As they enter, Ike’s eyes light up at the abundance of books on the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in the entrance. He runs his hands across the spines, picking up different authors—many long gone and forgotten—and notes the age of some of them. Some were dating back beyond the 16th century, in pristine condition too. He wanted nothing more than to be able to idle around this one room and read as many novels as he possibly could.
“I am exhausted.” Vox drawls, pulling Ike out of his reverie, “I’m sorry my place is a little out of the way. I just prefer the solace of nature over the city anyway.” Ike hums in understanding. After hanging up his coat, Vox fully turns to Ike with a smile, “Would you like some tea? I can go make some especially for you.”
“I would love some tea, thank you.”
“Great,” Vox mumbles to himself as he makes his way towards the kitchen, “Do make yourself comfortable…”
Ike nods and goes to busy himself looking around the common room. There are big, gorgeous paintings hung up on the tall walls, a grand fireplace, more books (much to Ike’s excitement). It is quite lavish, but not too much to the point where it’s not comfortable. It still feels like home.
This was all a new experience for him. I’ve never been inside a vampire’s house before…
As a fantasy writer, Ike has always had a fascination for the creatures he writes about. Werewolves, vampires, faeries, warlocks. In order to make his characters feel as genuine as possible, he’s done a lot of research, a lot of which was face-to-face. Vox’s pale white skin, his inhuman gold eyes, cold skin. How could he not entertain this man’s intentions for a chance to get to know him and his species better?
Getting real-world experience is a necessity for every writer, but for Ike it goes a little bit deeper. He has spent full moons with packs werewolves. He has drank with witches and warlocks in bars, hearing stories of their long lost lovers. Vampires… have always been a bit prickly. Getting on their wrong side can be dangerous, and Ike has been there before. Nowadays, he takes extra precautions, but letting himself be courted and following a vampire home? This had to be the best and worst idea he’s ever had.
Vox comes back a few minutes later, breaking Ike out of his reverie, carefully carrying a steaming cup of tea in each hand. He places them each on the coffee table and sits down, Ike following soon after. Picking it up, the steam wafts in his face, fogging up his glasses. It has a light floral scent. As he takes a sip, there’s a hint of something he doesn’t quite recognize.
“Thank you. For the tea,” Ike turns to see Vox already watching him carefully, “It’s delicious.” He takes another sip.
Vox smiles, “I’m glad you like it.”
They settle in, letting the peaceful silence fill the atmosphere as they drink. It is very quiet all the way out here, and while others may find it eerie, Ike can see the appeal. It would be a nice place to sit and write for hours.
Vox is the first to finish and break the silence, “So, do tell me more about yourself. In as much detail as you’d like.”
Ike lets out a nervous laugh, he has never been very good with talking about himself. “Well, I am a novelist, I’ve spent years being fascinated by stories shared in the literary world and it inspired me to take up writing myself!”
“What do you like to write about?”
Ike figures he can be honest here, testing the waters a bit. “I am open to writing all kinds of things, but to be honest, I have an inclination for fantasy. I love experimenting with characters and ideas that are new and a bit ‘out there’. I like to research and weave our own histories and beliefs into them in some way.” The man’s smile is unwavering, his thoughts hidden away behind his still expression. “I just love the idea of there being magic in this world, you know? That things aren’t always what they seem.”
“There’s more to this world than what meets the eye. It’s understandable to want to believe in concepts beyond what we already know. Although, I’m sure you are full of many surprises,” Vox pauses to look over Ike quickly before returning his gaze to his eyes once more, “you don’t need magic for that.”
Ike feels his face flush lightly, looking down in his lap to fidget with his hands. “Either way, the first book I ever read was a fantasy novel. About a girl who finds her world flipped upside down; creatures you would only hear about it fiction all around her, blending in seamlessly. Her whole world opens up to a different perspective.” He has the courage to look up at Vox again. “It inspired me. I want to be like her, sharing stories from both sides—bridging the gap between alternate perspectives. I want someone else to feel the same rush I felt reading her story.”
He face heats up again once he realizes the tangent he went off on and goes to apologize, but the words die in his throat as Vox shoots a toothy grin at him. “I think that’s quite beautiful,” he laughs pleasantly, and Ike is unable to do anything but match his smile.
“What about you?” Ike asks. “You said you would rather be at home than at that party. How do you occupy yourself so far removed from everyone?”
Vox stops to think for a moment. “As you can see, I like to read quite a bit. That does take up a lot of my time, as you may know, once you break into something interesting it can be hard to put down.” He huffs out a laugh. “And I’m pretty self sufficient here, you see. There’s livestock in the back that helps keep me fed without needing to go to far.”
“Like homesteading?”
The look on his face contorts into something Ike can’t read. “Something like that…”
Ike does pick up on the momentary glint of sadness in his eyes. “It must be kind of lonely living out here all alone. I’m sure the novelty of such peace and quiet can wear down quite fast.”
“It can be difficult sometimes… to be without people. There aren’t many people who deign to spend time with me. You have been the first in a while, and I do appreciate that. No one has been as captivating as you.”
Ike lowers his head, brushing off the unexpected compliment. He couldn’t be that interesting. He was just a scrawny little writer who holes himself into his room, spending hours upon hours with his nose in a book or scribbling desperately across dozens of sheets of paper. The two of them seemed to have quite a bit in common. Ironically, Ike thought of Vox as the most intriguing.
The vampire shifts closer to him all of a sudden, craning his head down a bit to get Ike to meet his eyes once again. “I, uh, I’m sorry if this is a bit forward but…” he’s chewing on his bottom lip anxiously, “could I… could I trouble you for a kiss possibly?” Ike can’t help his eyebrows raising in surprise, to which Vox scrambles to continue, “I completely understand if you are not comfortable with that. I just figured I would ask.”
He knows this is weird. He knows they just met and this is really fast. He knows he should probably say no. “No, it’s okay,” he says instead, “you can kiss me.”
The kiss is unexpectedly… soft. There was a part of him thinking he was about to get mauled by the vampire, but despite all the power behind those lips, there was an incredibly lonely man who seemed to just want a moment of intimacy. The chaste press of lips lasted only for a few seconds, and it made Ike’s mind start swimming, like a thick fog just settled in his brain. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling but… he enjoyed it.
As they pulled away, Ike’s eyes fluttered open, his eyelids feeling a bit heavy all of a sudden. The kiss seemed to affected him more than he thought.
Vox seems to take notice of this and takes a glance out of one of the floor to ceiling windows. “Are you feeling a bit tired? You’re welcome to spend the night here, I can make up a bed for you. It has gotten to be pretty dark…”
Ike nods weakly. “Yeah, I just got really tired all of a sudden, I’m sorry.” He rubs his eyes. They felt like they were burning the more he tried to keep them open. “I hope that’s not too much of an inconvenience.”
“Of course not! It’s been a while since I have had company stay over, it’s… nice.” He shoots a concerned look over at Ike, “Are you feeling alright? You’re burning up,” he rests the back of his hand against Ike’s forehead, his cool skin a nice contrast to the fire under his skin.
“Yeah, I just… what kind of tea was that…”
Vox looks confused. “It was just some Earl Grey?” He pauses a second before his mouth twists into a grin. “But maybe it was the sleeping agent I slipped into it.”
“What?” Ike musters as much energy to push himself further into the opposite corner of the couch. He doesn't get very far.
“I hope you don’t mind me being a bit forward again.” The vampire laughs low in his throat, leaning forward to caress one side of Ike’s neck and bringing his mouth up to the other. Soft little pecks trailing down his throat become languid strokes of his tongue up the line of his carotid artery. Ike’s head is swimming (not in a good way) trying his best to push him away but unable to do more than a light shove. The vampire is too strong, and so was the tea.
Without any warning, Vox bears his fangs—a quick flash of white—before biting into his neck. Ike lets out a weak groan, the penetration causing sparks of pain to shoot through his neck, but only for a moment.
He has heard about the effects of vampire bites, but has never experienced it himself. While he knew he shouldn’t, a part of him was always curious. He’s been told how it works; the fangs penetrate the artery momentarily, then the vampire will draw back and suck the fresh blood from the wound. In doing so, the vampire tends to salivate—similar to humans when they see food they like—which carries venom. When said venom comes into contact with the wound, a shot of endorphins goes to the brain, and it’s pure pleasure.
A hoarse moan forces itself out of his throat as soon as the pain fades into ecstasy, but it lasts little more than a few seconds when the vampire hisses and draws back suddenly. There’s blood dripping down Vox’s chin, the same red that’s trailing down the open wound in his neck. Ike starts laughing.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?”
“Hurts doesn’t it,” his head lolls forward to look him in the eye, “I injected myself with holy water.”
Vox growls angrily, spitting the remaining blood out onto the carpet of the same deep red. “You knew.”
“I told you I’m a fantasy writer Vox. I thought you were smarter than that.” The adrenaline of everything that has happened seemed to renew his energy, pushing himself forward to lean closer to Vox. He wasn’t afraid of him. He wouldn’t waste a perfectly good meal by killing him, but he couldn’t do anything with him at the moment. They both know this. “I go out in hopes of meeting people like you: vampires, werewolves, et cetera. It helps to keep my writing as accurate as possible. While I’ve met with most amicably, you vampires have a tendency to bite first, talk later. Nothing personal of course, it’s all self-defense.”
The vampire seemed to calm down a bit, the anger melting away with the burning sensation in his mouth. If Ike didn’t know any better, he would almost say he looked impressed. “I’ll admit… I’ve never met a human like you before. I like you.” Ike smiles weakly at him.
“So that’s all you want. Information?” Vox asks. The novelist nods. “It hardly seems fair for me to give you what you want just for you to run off. I think we could both get something out of this… arrangement.”
“What do you want?” Ike asked cautiously.
“You know what I want. All I ask is for a guaranteed form of sustenance and you… you can stay here and ask me whatever you like. You can read any book you desire. You can sit in the peace and quiet and write to your heart’s content. It only seems fair.”
“You want to drink from me?”
Vox shrugs, “Or you can use your own means of… persuading other’s to satisfy me.”
Maybe he was foolish, but something about him made Ike want to stay. It’s not like he would get an opportunity like this again. He didn’t know how he felt about leading other’s to their death however, he’d want to feed him directly… for now. There’s no way Vox would risk killing his only sure source of food. After all, what’s a little blood?
Ike gives him a wicked smile, and that’s all Vox needs. “So… will you join me at the table?”