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prologue
“I should've known it was strange”
Oscar couldn’t fall asleep.
There was a tugging feeling in his stomach, but not in a good way. He only felt like this whenever he was nervous, or something wrong was about to happen.
He shifted a bit, his eyes wandering around the moonlit room he was in. It wasn’t like his old room back at home, but it was what his school could offer for now. He rolled onto his back, trying to fall asleep again, but he just couldn’t, and the fact that the sleep wasn’t drifting to him annoys him.
That’s it, Oscar thought, as he sat up. He stretched for a bit, before reaching for the doorknob and twisting it open.
The moment he stepped out of his room, a blinding light greeted him. He winced, a bit confused on why the dorm light is on at the ass crack of midnight. His dorm mates weren’t the type to wake up at ungodly hours of the night, so it was indeed strange. Eh, maybe Oscar forgot to switch off the light before he went to bed.
Shrugging the matter off, Oscar decided that it wouldn’t be bad for his health to cook up some instant noodles for a late night snack, and maybe wake Logan up to ask if he wants a bite. Rubbing his eyes, his footsteps led him to the kitchen.
What stopped Oscar in his footsteps though, was when he flicked on the kitchen light, a flurry of crashing sounds and murmured curses resounded from the deeper part of the kitchen. Now that was suspicious.
Oscar walked slower, not sure what to expect. It could be a burglar, or it could just be one of his dorm mates. His heart hammered in his chest, grabbing the frying pan that sat on a kitchen burner stove. His heart hammered in his chest, before he took another step to face the elephant in the room, swinging his arm up—
“Please, I can explain,” A familiar voice whimpered, as Oscar cracked one eye open (He didn’t even realize he had closed them), before his jaw fell. Whatever that was in front of him was not what he had expected.
Why the hell was Logan Hunter Sargeant, his childhood best friend and dorm mate, biting into the carcass of a dead pigeon?
“Loga— what the hell are you doing?” Oscar whispered aggressively, setting the frying pan down, reaching out to Logan, but the blonde boy swat his palms away with one bloodstained arm, his eyes glazed with horror as he set down the body of the animal on the countertop.
“Look, I—” Logan mumbled, hastily wiping his palms on his white shirt. Oscar cringed at the motion as he watched the blood seep into the cotton of the fabric, knowing that the stains wouldn’t come off any easily.
“Please don’t freak out when I say this, but—“ Logan sighed, his eyes flicking everywhere except at Oscar, “I’m a vampire.”
Yeah no shit, I can see that from your entire mouth being stained with blo- wait.
Oscar must have been looking like he was scared shitless, because when he took a step back, Logan started muttering incomprehensible apologies, profusely wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Please, Oscar, I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to think anything bad of me, I didn’t want this for myself either, my stupid family had a vampire bloodline and i thought I wasn’t gonna be a vampire but apparently vampires only become full ones at their 18th birthday—” Logan rambled, hands flailing everywhere, distraught clearly written on the features on his face.
Oscar huffed, hitting Logan in the chest with a little bit too much power, just to shut him up. He needed space to think, and Logan’s rambling wasn’t helping because, well, just because. His fist remained there, unmoving, as Logan winced a little.
“Why didn’t you bother telling me this earlier?” Oscar retorted. He didn’t mean to sound this rude, or offended even, but given that Logan didn’t want to tell him about it hurt him. He felt like Logan didn’t trust him enough, and he was hurt by the fact.
Logan wrapped one cold palm around Oscar’s wrist tightly, looking into his eyes with a warm sincerity that Oscar has never seen him display in the 14 years they’ve known each other. His lips parted in preparation for speech, his red-tinted fangs out in display.
“It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you, Osc, it was to protect you,” He sighed, “I didn’t want you to get involved with someone as dangerous as I am.”
Oscar’s fist uncurled slightly, Logan’s cold fingers still wrapped around his wrist. He knew Logan was sincere, that underneath all the frat-boyishness was someone who looked out for Oscar often. He knew that whatever his friend became, human or vampire, the spirit inside him would never change. But Oscar still lamented, wondering if back then he could have helped Logan to halt the transformation.
But it was too late for him to even conjure up anything to return Logan back to human now. He was going to be stuck like that for centuries to come.
——
1
“Osc,” Some shuffling next to him resounded, as Oscar looked up to face the one and only, Logan Sargeant.
He removed his earbuds and smiled as Logan sat down next to him, sprawled in an ungraceful way on the chair. “What are you listening to?” Logan asked, a crooked grin unfurling on his lips. The teacher hadn’t come in for lessons yet, and they were at the back, so however loud they talked would be drowned out by the chaos of the coming-and-going of students in the lecture hall. Oscar flipped over his phone and shrugged, “Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo.”
Logan’s grin got even wider, before he stifled a yawn, arms crossed behind his head. His fangs were already retracted, but his canine teeth are still sharper than the average human’s. Oscar wondered how he hadn’t realized that before.
“Vampire. Huh. New release?”
Oscar nodded and hummed, realising that eyebags that were never there before started to form under his anthracite eyes. Logan must have been busy the past few nights. “So, is it possible to find a cure for you?” Oscar ran his hand through his hair, before smoothing them back, a habit he does whenever he’s thinking.
Logan blinked once, twice, looking as lax as ever, as he shrugged nonchalantly. Oscar shook his head and sighed, running his fingers through his own hair in frustration. “You said you didn’t want this lifestyle, didn’t you?”
The blonde chuckled a bit, now leaning towards Oscar as he whispered, since the class was already settling down, the noise slowly fading. “But it’s cool, more stamina, being different is fun. Blood is good too.”
Oscar slapped a palm at Logan’s abdomen, trying to hide his amused grin as he heard Logan exhale sharply next to him from the impact, his fingers trying to pry off Oscar’s hand before the lecturer walked in to start the lesson.
=
Hours later, the pair found themselves in the school library, cooped up against two laptops and researching on how to help Logan quench his thirst for blood (because the nutrition index in pigeon blood wasn’t technically enough for Logan’s survival), which was different from their usual study sessions together.
“My parents said that human blood is the freshest, but that would be cruel to you guys,” Logan mumbled, hushed because there were a bunch of other students in the area as well, and if they knew a vampire was in their school, Logan would be in deep shit.
“It’s either monkeys or humans mate, you’re gonna have to find a way to survive,” Oscar shrugged, “Or, we could steal blood from blood donors. Don’t you guys have some society or something that can provide fresh blood every month?”
Logan yawned again, “I think we’ll go with stealing blood packets every month, imagine monkey blood. I don’t want to die before I reach 100.”
Oscar chuckled quietly at the levity in Logan’s voice, fingers brushing across his own lips to hide his laughter as he typed away on his chromebook.
Logan shifted, before laying his head on Oscar’s shoulder, yawning again. Oscar’s face felt warm, the comfortable weight of Logan’s head, his hair brushing against the crook of Oscar’s neck. “Give me like, 30 minutes. Hunting pigeons is hard, those flying little gray asshats don’t run out of energy.”
Oscar, cheeks still tinted pink, lifted his hand to tangle his fingers in Logan’s hair, a subconscious action. Logan’s hair was soft, especially when it was unstyled like how it was in the library. He enjoyed this moment, the steady rise and fall of the older boy’s chest, the rare peace spreading throughout his body as warm energy, up to his very fingertips.
If letting Logan stay a vampire can bring us this close, Oscar thought, then I could get used to this.
——
2
“No, but really, I’ve haven’t had the chance to see myself in a mirror since, like, December 31, four years ago man.”
Oscar gawked when Logan said that, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Both of them sat close on the school compound’s open-air rooftop, the lights of skyscrapers at night illuminating the view in front of them one night after, Logan on his laptop rushing overdue assignments, a tradition of theirs when Oscar needed a break from anything about studies (well, apart from his academically hopeless best friend needing his help for assignments, that he can let slide).
“Explain your ‘admirable’ methods of applying gel in your hair without a mirror, mate.” Oscar rolled his eyes, he couldn’t believe this guy. Even without a mirror, Logan could very well still be in a full committed relationship with hair gel.
Logan chuckled, his comforting laughter ringing in the ambience of the night, accompanied by the crinkling of plastic as Oscar reached his hand into a packet of TimTams, staring into the distance as a smile grew on his face.
“Habitual,” Logan shrugged, running a hand through his hair as he laid down on the concrete floor, “I’ve been styling my hair with gel since five years ago every single day, so I don’t really need a mirror to figure out how I want it to look like.” He eyed the blood packet he was holding, before twisting the cap open and drinking just a little, however gruesome that was.
“You don’t really need hair gel to look hot, you know.”
Logan’s smile turned into a smirk, as he got up on his elbows. “So you think I’m hot?”
Oscar felt his face heat up, looking away as he pressed his clammy palms on his face, as if they would make the redness disappear. He groaned, muffled and flustered. Logan laughed, leaning closer to Oscar as he sat back up fully, as Oscar mumbled, “I didn’t mean- like-”
“I didn’t know you were that in love with me, Osc,” Logan spoke in between laughters, doubling over.
Oscar knew that Logan was obviously joking, but instead of defending himself and blocking the thought, the blonde’s words wrapped around his heart, clenching it tightly as it triggered butterflies that exploded in his stomach.
=
Oscar wasn’t usually one to draw during class.
As a high-achiever, the boy tended to pay attention, taking down notes and focusing well during classes. Logan was the one that tended to zone out often, or he would sneak in some snide remarks during class to watch Oscar laugh a little, releasing the load of stress on his shoulders. He was either busy taking notes, or kicking Logan’s ankle to remind him to pay attention.
This time, Oscar didn’t really care much about the monotonous droning of their lecturer. He was sketching away on a piece of paper he snuck into class, trying to recall his artistic skills again.
“Lo,” he whispered once he was finished, slipping the paper onto the side of his desk. Logan blinked, his fingers on the folded sheet of paper, his eyes widened a bit. Oscar watched as the blonde unfolded the paper, his hand flying over his mouth as he gingerly unfolded the small piece of paper.
“Is this supposed to be me?” Logan smiled, small yet fond.
Oscar nodded, smiling a bit at the genuine gratitude and awe showing on Logan’s face. It wasn’t rare to see Logan this happy, but Oscar appreciated those moments, the way Logan’s lips twisted into a grin, the way his eyes crinkle. Thankfully they were seated at the last row, the safest location to chat during lectures.
“Jesus, Osc, you never fail to impress me.” Logan smiled wider, ruffling Oscar’s hair in admiration. Oscar’s cheeks flushed rosy, unable to hide the smile blooming on his face. The moment passed after a short while, returning back to their normal class routine.
——
1
Oscar messed this up. He knew he did. He ruined a perfectly good friendship because his own heart had won over.
He remembered the look on Logan’s face, pure horror as it had seemed. It was as if Oscar was the inhuman being among the two of them. Regret and guilt churned in his stomach, and the phantom impact of a fist clenched his heart, he felt like it wasn’t pumping anymore.
It had been half a year since Logan revealed to Oscar that he was a vampire, but more than 3 years since Oscar accepted the fact that he had a crush on his childhood friend, but he didn’t want all of it to end just like this.
His footsteps echoed absurdly loud in the silence of the night, sneaker rubber thudding against hard concrete. Oscar didn’t even know where he was, he’d just let his legs take him to wherever. He needed space for himself, knowing that even when he left the dormitory without Logan even saying a word to him, that he’d rather die before seeing the other’s reaction.
The dimly lit street was eerily quiet, no cars were around. Oscar wasn’t sure if he was grateful for it, or actually scared. Any being could jump out and attack him right now, but that wasn’t the first thing on his mind.
Speak of the devil.
Oscar suddenly felt two palms grab his black windbreaker from behind as he got slammed into a brick wall, the pain surging through his body as he cried out, both in shock and from the impact. The same two shadowy palms grabbed the collar of his windbreaker, two glowing eyes curved into angry crescent moons
“Empty your pockets, whatever you have. On the floor.” A husky voice, accompanied by breath that smelled like cigarettes blew onto his face. Oscar didn’t have anything in his pocket, other than his phone and AirPods. He couldn’t lose those.
“Boy, did you hear what I said? Drop everything!”
Oscar tried to pry off the calloused fingers on his collar, squirming as well, but he definitely didn’t take his belongings out, which led to him being thrown across the alleyway, his body skidding across the floor as his back knocked into a brick wall. His head throbbed, and Oscar was pretty much sure he was bleeding somewhere. The shadowy man held something that glinted in the reflection of the moonlight, which wasn’t prominent in the dark alley. The way he walked reminded Oscar of a spirit’s stride, which made him freak out even more as he tried to get up, slowly moving backwards.
I’m going to die. I’m going to die, and I won't be able to apologise to Logan ever.
He shut his eyes tight as an intuitive reflex, ready to brace the surge of pain that would come when the glinting object pierces through his heart.
Except that it never came. The only thing that followed after was a shriek, and the thudding of sneakers against the ground as well as loud crashing. Oscar’s eyes fluttered open to see a familiar silhouette pinning the shadowy man against the wall, eyes glowing both crimson and white at the same time.
“Logan?” Oscar stood up, moving closer to them.
The figure turned, and he bared his two fangs, his grey-yet-red eyes narrowed into slits, a hint of sadness behind them. Oscar looked at him, then at the flailing man who had tried to murder him just ten seconds ago, trying every possible way to throw the sharp end at Logan.
“Drop the knife.” Logan muttered, all the glory of his pearl-white, red-tinted fangs reflecting the moonlight. The man gripped on the handle of the knife tighter, obviously not knowing what being Logan actually was. Oscar reached out to Logan, but not before those eyes — a sort of coldness emitting from his gaze which was oh so unfamiliar — made him hesitate.
“Osc, get out of here, please, I don't want you injured, I don't want you falling victim.” Logan practically begged, half-yelling in the night, a sad tinge of sorrow, grief and yearning glazing across his impossibly red sclerae, before they were replaced with anger as he looked at the man again.
Oscar took one step back, unsure whether he should leave Logan like that, in the danger of the spirit-man’s presence, before sprinting anyway, tears falling from his eyes, as an ear-piercing scream rang in the moonlight darkness of his surroundings
He had practically screwed up their friendship tonight, yet Logan had the sense to save him.
=
Oscar picked a hangnail on his finger, skimming through the passages of a crime novel he’d been reading halfway, not quite taking in the plot line because all he had in his head was just Logan, whether Logan was alive and whether the last he’d seen of Logan was his all-red gaze and inhumane form, a form that even if he wasn’t used to, he’d loved very much.
It had been almost an hour since he’d come back to their dorm apartment, yet no signs from Logan that he was coming back to the dorm, not even a text message from him.
He sighed, the world was spinning around him as the thoughts overwhelmed him. He pressed one palm to his head, gazing out of the window again, his head pulsing, not sure if it was from the shock of the event or the
A slam of the door was what broke his thoughts and made him jump in his sitting position. He stood up, turning his head to face a bloodied Logan, trying to catch his breath as he leaned against the doorframe. The redness in his eyes had faded, but it was still there, a faint layer over. Sweat beaded the dip of his upper lip, but it wasn’t as visible as the blood that dripped from his mouth.
“Logan, god,” Oscar stumbled over to the blonde, cupping his face with his palms. Logan gently grabbed his wrists, his crimson palms painting the other’s forearm in the same shade. Not that Oscar cared, the priority was that his “lover” wasn’t in the best condition right then, mentally and physically.
“I killed him. I killed him, siphoned the soul out of him. His blood was foul, dirty, disgusting,” Logan’s glance flicked everywhere except for Oscar, frantically wiping his mouth clean on the cuff of his hoodie, and it was just like the day Logan first revealed his secret, uncertain, panicked, but this time Logan was crying, sobs tearing through his body, and Oscar wasn’t sure he’d felt that much remorse and sadness in his life looking at him like this.
Oscar ran a thumb over his cheekbones, wiping off any tears that dripped from his beautiful eyes. “Logan, please, look at me, I know you’re not in the best state of mind right now, but please trust me.” The blonde locked gazes with Oscar, unable to speak, his lips parted, eyes sad.
“What matters now is that even after I've made what was probably a big regret in my life, you still came to save me, came to rescue my life. I know that you don’t have the heart to kill a living being, but you’ve managed to eliminate something far more inhumane than a monster. That’s what matters. The alleys won’t whisper a thing about his death, and even if they do, I’ll be standing by your side because you’ve done nothing wrong.”
Oscar then wrapped his arms around the taller boy into an embrace, unbothered about the way his shirt was tinted red now. He heard Logan’s unsteady breathing slow down as he gently hugged Oscar’s waist tightly with desperation, fragmented sobs still tearing through his body. Oscar caressed his back, an automatic reflex to calm the American down. The tears did stop, but they didn’t want to let go of this comforting embrace they were in.
“It’s just- I’ve never killed anyone before, and the- the guilt, the grief—”
“Shhh, you’ll be okay.” Oscar repeated, a chant that was soft, but loud enough for the other to hear. They did end up detaching themselves from each other, but not without Logan’s palms still grasped tightly on the Australian’s elbows, his hands sticky and rough, slightly cold against the younger boy’s skin. They were close enough, Oscar could feel Logan’s breath on his nose bridge, slightly. If he leaned in right at that moment, closed the gap between them, their lips would meet, and—
He hadn’t even had time to finish the thought, before he felt Logan’s mouth pressed onto his, his hands traveling to hold Oscar’s face in between his palms.
It didn’t take long for Oscar to wake from his thoughts before he responded, his arms wrapping around Logan’s nape and shoulder to draw the American closer, a subconscious instinct fueled by the burning passion that licked his heart like flames. Logan parted his lips, his fangs slightly poking onto Oscar’s lower lip, but not like Oscar minded. The moment felt more important, as if it wasn't real.
But it very much was, Logan’s lips on Oscar’s, their heads angling to deepen the liplock. It felt surreal, electric sparks dancing between their lips.
They had to let go, eventually, Oscar’s muscles aching and his lungs burning from little oxygen intake, even when he’d swallowed Logan’s breath, all warm and damp on his lips. There was the faint metallic taste of, well, blood on it too, despite Logan already running the sleeve of his hoodie across it ten times before their liplock, which was disgusting, but he had to accept it, if it were one of the traits that came with loving Logan.
Everything comes with cons, but Oscar is ready to face them, if it meant that Logan would be by his side.
=
The folktales, the myths. They’ve all said that a human and a vampire would never be able to fall in love, and even if it did happen, it wouldn’t last very long, and all explanations could be summarised with the theory that a developed vampire’s thirst for blood and the sacrifices one human has to make in order to stay with their vampire other would be so difficult, a tragic romance in most cases.
But this was different, and both of them knew it. They’ve unknowingly started loving each other since the day they first met, since Logan was barely vampire and more human, the faint memory of Logan dragging his chair to sit next to the new student on their first day of school constantly replaying, in a class where said student had technically known no one due him being a transfer from Australia.
Now Logan wakes up in the morning, the sun warm against his skin as rays flooded in through the window panes. Another vampire allegation busted. He’d known since the day he was born into this world that vampires weren’t allergic to sunlight, but more like they couldn’t see really well, courtesy of his blood-craving family line that he’d always wanted to disassociate from
He blinks to see that Oscar’s was still asleep, his face close to Logan’s, waist warm in Logan’s arms. If Logan studied his face better without the daylight “blindness” slightly blurring his vision, he would’ve seen that Oscar’s freckles have started to spread across his face, and that makes Logan want to never stop admiring Oscar’s beauty.
Right at that moment Oscar stirred, smiling ever so slightly. Logan pressed his lips onto Oscar’s for a second. “Good morning.” A weak whisper.
The blonde smiled in return and threaded his fingers through Oscar’s hair, teeth showing, but he remembered, these very fangs killed someone, so his toothy grin faded to a close-lipped one, a tendril of guilt still piercing at his heart.
The guilt must have also shown on his face, because Oscar reached out, caressed his cheekbone slightly. “Why are you insecure about your smile?”
Logan didn’t reply, just extracted his hand to brush against Oscar’s, the one on his cheek. Oscar frowned, pity and empathy warm in his eyes that reflected the sunlight, bright and shiny. Logan could drown in them.
“This smile,” Oscar gently brushed his lips on the corner of Logan’s mouth, “Is one of my favourite things about you. Don’t ever hide it away, and fuck whoever pokes at you for having fangs. They’ve never had the luxury to have someone so beautiful as a lover.”
Screw the myths. Oscar would have ended up in his arms like this whether he was a monster or a human, and there’s comfort in the knowledge that they wouldn’t have been too far apart no matter what creature both of them were.
——
epilogue
“I loved you truly.”
About 500 years later.
Dino didn’t even need to look up from his book to know that the approaching crunch of footsteps on the gravel belonged to Paul.
It was a chill afternoon, the breeze hitting his face as the footsteps stopped, cyan rubber sneakers contrasting with his red ones. He looked up to face his best friend, smiling slightly as Paul sat down next to him on the bench.
“Where’s Ollie?” Dino bookmarked his page, closing a book with a soft thump.
“Ah,” Paul shrugged, “Professor Rosin’s holding him up for classes because he’d missed lesson yesterday.”
Dino sighed. It was just the two of them then, no golden retriever boy with them for an hour or so. His eyes flicked from the book cover, to the crowd outside their school, then to Paul, who was eyeing the book Dino was holding.
“What? You don’t get to judge my taste in books,” Dino hit Paul’s shoulder gently, a tone of levity in his voice as he chuckled, Paul laughing.
“No, it's just — I’ve never seen you read a book so passionately before. Must be interesting, I suppose?”
Dino shrugged. “I heard this old book was based on a real story, a vampire and his lover, the first ever pair,” flips the book open to the acknowledgement page, “Frederik Vesti, the author. I quote, ‘I was their roommate, didn’t know about my roommate Logan, the inspiration for our boy Aether here, was a vampire, but I did know that the first day Logan and Oscar, the real-life Nicolas, had a connection. I was right’ ’’
Paul’s smile faltered into something more soft and fond. “That’s sweet. Mind lending it to me for a day?”
An amused look spread across the brown-haired boy’s face. Paul was acted like Aether in the story, Dino just realised, and it was oddly familiar. “Just for a day, you’d better return it to me tomorrow.”
Paul clapped Dino’s shoulder, before standing up, facing him. “I guess- I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
Dino nodded, and while he watched his best friend walk away, the faint humming of a song he’s never heard before and the rhythm of drums resounded in the back of his ear, the faint chime of lyrics resonating mysteriously, Dino only being able to catch one word, “bloodsucker.”