Chapter Text
Night fell swiftly on Inner L'manberg, the light in the sky now faded all the way from a soft, baby blue to an inky void painting the sky. A faraway bell rang out thrice, signalling to those awake that the witches hour had begun. Quick-moving shadows raced from shop to shop, the monsters inhabiting the city hunting down cheap vendors with keen eyes. A light turned on in one of the fancier shops, it's modern-looking red and white sign quite jarring considering the eclectic mix of Georgian, Roman and much, much older buildings that filled Inner L'manberg.
Most monsters stayed firmly away from this particular shop. Many others stared at the building with starved eyes, the monstrous shoppers all forcing a conscious effort to stay firmly away. After all, who wanted to pay the price of disobeying?
A sweet scent filled the cold air. But it was also weirdly savoury, like a freshly-baked cinnamon roll, perfectly warm and gooey. It was such a shame that the scent was not alone. Another scent was present too: prowling, protective certainly. Like an ancient dragon, determined to never rest, to never allow anyone near it's precious hoard. And so naturally, every onlooker was scared off: racing to another brightly lit building where they could queue for hours and wait for some cheap, unpleasant tasting mix of blood elsewhere. The shop was not open anyway.
That did not mean the shop was empty - for it couldn't have been. Someone must have turned on the lights, others producing the scent. And so, behind the silver-laced shutters and flowery sign, there was a family.
"But Phil" Yelled Tommy, aware of how childish he sounded, "Will's being a bitch and not letting me have my coke!" Phil burst into a fit of laughter, dislodging his bucket hat from his head, forcing him to move it back into place so that it didn't fall down the back of the sofa again. He picked up the newspaper he'd discarded hours ago and tried to appear more relaxed despite how his sons made him laugh. "Will, come on mate. Just because it makes his blood taste a bit weird does not mean you can stop Tommy from having his favourite drink!" He exclaimed, utterly exasperated, for what must have been the 20,000th time that week. "Do I need to tape a recording of me saying that or do you finally get it?" He asked, radiating Dad Energy™ as he spoke.
A figure whizzed from the smaller sofa beside them to Phil and Tommy's, the brown, bouncy hair revealing the figure as Wilbur. "Tape yourself..." Wilbur teased, "And you say you're good with technology. What year is it again, Dad?"
"Will, stop taunting Dadza!" Tommy interjected.
"I will if he fucking tells me what year it is!" He rebutted, "And your blood does taste way better without that- That fucking poison!"
Phil sighed, feeling more grey hairs appearing. "Why do I even bother?"
With that, Phil turned back to his newspaper, muttering to himself the date as he read through it. Wilbur moved swiftly closer to Tommy, cornering the boy between him and Phil. He turned to look into Tommy's eyes, the hesitant and fearful teenager knowing what would happen next. He closed his eyes and looked to the floor, trying to pretend Wilbur's blood sick eyes weren't turned to his neck, that his fangs weren't extending as he smelt Tommy's bony body.
With a moan of joy, Wilbur sank his teeth into Tommy's neck and began to suck: more blood flowing out every second as his fangs went in deeper. Tommy looked around the darkness of his eyelids, manipulating the scenery softly to a cosy attic room where he didn't feel like millions of tiny needles were being inserted into his fucking neck. Because Prime, it hurt. It hurt so much but all he had to do was just wait, just a few seconds more... 5 maybe? 4... 3... 2... There it was!
The pain eased off suddenly though his neck felt numb, his whole body rife with weakness. He opened his eyes to a new world, one different to the world he'd left. His old world was all straight. Now it was all spinny. 'Round and round, like a huge carousel. It was funny. He wanted to say something so badly, he just had to wait. He kicked his feet softly on the floor and tried to stifle his giggles. Wilby would laugh so much when he heard! Wilbur removed his face from Tommy, knowing he was clearly too delirious (probably a mix of blood-loss and venom) and besides, he had to save some blood for his dad and brother.
"Wilby!" He giggled, "The world's all spinny!" Wilbur ran out to the kitchen, moving at speeds invisible to Tommy's human eyes to get him some kitchen roll to cover the holes he'd left. "Oh really? How fast?" Wilbur enquired. It wasn't his fault Tommy was that adorable after a feeding. "Mm... Really fast!" Tommy exclaimed as he fell back onto the sofa, Wilbur catching his head before it roughly hit the sofa. Tommy didn't seem to notice.
"Really really fast or just really fast?"
"Fast, Wilby! Almost as fast as Techie needs to be!" He whispered.
"Why does...Techie... need to be fast?" Wilbur asked hesitantly, gesturing to his father to get out the camera, Philza doing so because they could all feel an Adorable Tommy™ moment coming on.
"Mmm... 'S 'cause I miss him..." He rambled, "I love Techie, he's the best- well not as good as you Wilby. And you Dadza. Techie's just gone more... I love him but he's gone... Why does he have to go on trips?" Tommy muttered, tears threatening to release from his relaxed eyes.
Phil turned the camera off and effortlessly lifted Tommy up, cradling him like a baby. He sort of was though. Tommy's wasn't even a fifth of a century old, nowhere near their millennia. And that was it, wasn't it? If all humans were as adorable as Tommy, as willing to be drained and looked after as Tommy, society would develop by leaps and bounds. If vampires could do what they desired to better society while humans provided them with entertainment and food, getting the same as a reward. Humans: they never truly knew what they wanted or what to do or let themselves give into their natural childish impulses. Alas, they'd all (even Tommy sometimes) insist otherwise. What a shame.
"Shh... He'll only be gone for another day." He whispered, carding his hands through Tommy's shoulder length knotted hair, silence filling the room as Tommy's eyes started closing for an increasingly long amount of time as Phil spoke. "Wilbur, I think we need to get him to bed." Phil said, not leaving any room for a 'no' in his statement. Wilbur whined and nodded and the two vampires walked leisurely into Tommy's still too-small bedroom.
Tommy barely moved when Phil placed him down in bed and Wilbur put his duvet over him, giving Tommy the final pieces of comfort needed to place the boy in a peaceful sleep full of dreams filled with colourful blocks and blue sheep.
No sooner than when Tommy's breathing slowed down did the sire and son begin to speak once more in a vampire-friendly whisper. Wilbur opened Phil's phone and started playing the video now on silent.
"So we're sending the video to Techno, right?" Phil laughed, a cheerful and fatherly laugh that would make the most speciest human laugh along. "He'll love it mate.."