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The first thing Arthur Bennett noticed when he walked into Club Crépuscule was loud music and chatter. A frown fell upon his face as he realized just how long this night was going to be; he wished he took his noise blockers with him. Emizel already managed to run off to who knows where, so that left Arthur to do as he pleased.
His eyes landed upon the empty bar. It was going to be a while anyway, a drink or two wouldn’t hurt, right?
As he sat on a barstool, he felt like he didn’t really belong in a place like this. Sure, he went to a lot of parties in his time with the Toreadors but… now? He knew it wasn’t for him anymore.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Edward Twilight. Eugh.
“Hey bartender,” he started, looking over at the vampire cleaning glasses. “Can I have a whiskey?”
Without a word, the other vampire passed him the drink and Arthur nodded to him. He had to use blood for this, but he deserved it. A nice glass of alcohol to drown his troubles; that little buzz in his head was all he needed. He wasn’t drunk per se, one sip wasn’t going to cut it, but he missed that pleasant burn in his chest.
He set the drink back on the counter, feeling blood pumping in his veins. Blush of Life was truly a blessing, he almost felt alive again. He felt warmer, he could feel his lungs expanding and crashing down again, akin to waves in the ocean.
Arthur didn’t use his Blush of Life too often, but this was indeed a special occasion. He took another sip of his drink and relished in the aftertaste of it; it really was a perfect night for a glass of whiskey.
Sadly that was interrupted by a certain someone. A certain sparkly someone.
“Arthur… brah… what are you doing here all alone?” Edward Twilight sat down next to him; he was looking Arthur up and down with his signature expression adorning his sparkly face. It’s not like Arthur hated him but he wanted the Primogen dead. He was insufferable .
“Primogen Twilight. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Arthur responded with the slightest hint of sarcasm - just enough for it to fly over the other vampire’s head. He was dumb enough not to notice.
“You see, we haven’t spoken to each other in a while, Arthur…“ Edward said, slightly leaning on the counter. Arthur’s face returned to his usual frown, already done with this conversation. He avoided the Primogen for a reason and he wanted for it to stay that way. “Don’t you miss our parties?”
“I’m very sorry Edward, but I had matters to attend to.” Arthur took a sip from his drink, begging mentally for Edward to just go away already. Thankfully his prayers were answered, as someone yelled his name from across the club. Edward looked in their general direction and winked.
“My deepest apologies, Arthur… it seems as if I am needed elsewhere for now, sadly… See you later… brah…” And just like that - he was gone. ‘Finally’, thought Arthur and downed his drink. He exchanged one look with the waiter and there was another glass full right in front of him. He was too focused on it to notice footsteps approaching him.
“Hey Arthur,” he heard Deacon’s voice behind him and his frown deepened. Just his luck, wasn’t it?
“Deacon.” Arthur nodded, turning his gaze towards him. The cowboy was… what in the world was he wearing? He had a white cowboy hat with LEDs on and a more party-like version of his normal outfit. Arthur wanted to tear his clothes off, I mean he didn’t, he wasn’t thinking about that. At all.
“What’s a sweet lil’ thing like you doin’ here all by himself?” Deacon asked, taking a seat right next to Arthur, smiling brightly at him. Arthur had mixed feelings about this man; he wanted to hate him, he was a vampire but… he was also extremely attractive.
He reminded Arthur of the sun. He wished he could be like that. He wished he could have the sun all to himself.
“I am trying to get through the night. Emizel couldn’t just go by himself.” Arthur took yet another sip from his drink and looked Deacon in the eyes. His stupid, pretty red eyes.
“You’re cute when you worry about these boys. Never took you as the type to do so,” Deacon chuckled and put his elbow on the counter. Arthur grumbled and looked away. He didn’t care about them, they were just really young and needed guidance. That’s it .
Arthur decided to ignore the sheriff and his ‘advances’ (along with the warmth spreading across his face) as he took a sip of his drink. He blamed the warmth on the whiskey
Suddenly, he felt a weight on the top of his head. Looking over at Deacon, he saw the man avoiding his gaze, his hat gone. Oh.
The black haired man smirked and examined the expression on Deacon’s face. Was he trying to tell him something? Either way he was being quite adorable for someone he was supposed to hate. He could see just the faintest bit of blush on Deacon’s cheeks, a nice addition to the already handsome face.
“Deacon,” Arthur said, noticing the way the other man got even more flustered when he said his name. “If you want to kiss me, you can just ask.”
“Well…” Deacon started, that southern twang in his voice making Arthur’s stomach do little flips. “And what if I want to? Like hypothetically, if I were to ask you to kiss me would you actua-”
He was interrupted by Arthur’s lips on his own. Deacon was surprisingly warm (he must have used Blush of Life as well), which made Arthur want to kiss him even harder, trying to chase that warmth, but before the cowboy could reciprocate the act, Arthur pulled away and sighed.
“Shut up already,” he said, trying to keep his cool. Truth is, he hadn’t kissed anyone in years and internally he was freaking out. What if Deacon hated it? Did he read the situation wrong? Go back, he read it right, he could read Deacon pretty well.
“Arthur I-” Deacon started, but was cut off by the bartender, loudly clearing his throat. They both looked towards him and Arthur glared at him, annoyed.
“Gentlemen as much as I hate to interrupt, you are still in a public place.” He said, wiping a glass and setting it down behind the counter.
They looked at each other and Deacon giggled, making Arthur slightly smile as well. He took his hand, shrouded by shadow and motioned for him to get up.
“Let’s go somewhere more private, aye moonshine?” The sheriff winked at him, making Arthur roll his eyes and scoff fondly. What an adorable man, he couldn’t wait to get pinned to a wall by him. “Come on, I know where the bathroom is.”
________
As soon as they made it into the bathroom, Arthur was being pressed against the door, Deacon kissing him with immense desperation. Kissing him like his life depended on it. Maybe it did.
Deacon licked his lower lip, granting him access to explore the other man’s mouth. Arthur honest to God whined when Deacon’s tongue met his own. He could feel the sheriff smiling against his mouth, proud of the state he got Arthur in.
It wasn’t every day he got to see the broody vampire come undone, so it was justified. Arthur hasn’t been kissed like this in a long, long while. Thankfully he knew exactly which buttons to press, suddenly glad for his time spent with the Toreadors.
He hooked one hand behind Deacon’s head and buried the other one in his soft, coiled hair, pulling him in even closer. He needed to feel that closeness, needed to feel the temporary warmth of Deacon’s body against his own; he’d never say it out loud but he was hoping this wasn’t a one time thing.
Deacon’s mouth moved to his jaw and neck, leaving marks as he went. Arthur slightly opened his eyes and groaned, this will be a pain to explain later. He never said he didn’t enjoy it though.
“Deacon…” He groaned, his eyes landing on a bench next to a wall on their left. “We should move…”
Deacon nodded and Arthur pushed him towards the cushioned seat. As soon as Deacon sat down, he pulled Arthur down with him so he was straddling the cowboy.
The brit went in for another kiss but stopped when a warm hand made contact with his cheek. Arthur’s expression turned into a confused one and he looked into Deacon’s eyes, searching for an answer. All he found was a soft smile and red eyes full of adoration.
“Deacon, I…” Arthur started, but found himself at a loss of words as Deacon caressed his cheek with his thumb. Bright red blush blossomed on Arthur’s face, but he couldn’t care less about it. There were things that were more important right in front of him.
People that were more important.
He hated to admit it but he was realizing quite quickly how infatuated he really was with Deacon. Maybe he realized his feelings even earlier but tried to hide them with hatred? Who can really tell. What really mattered was that he was currently in his lap, every inch of his face studied by the beautiful man.
“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart,” Deacon smiled softly, looking into his eyes; the thumb caressing his cheek has not stopped for a second, bringing Arthur the kind of comfort he hasn't had in a while.
Arthur’s eyes widened upon hearing those words. Sure, a lot of people called him pretty or even beautiful, but this was different .
Deacon was different. He always was.
“Deacon I think I-”
“Arthur, I'm in love with you.” He simply stated like it was second nature. Arthur’s body stiffened, but then he started softly laughing. “What’s so funny?” Deacon asked, masking his embarrassment as well as he could. He went and did it now, making a fool of himself.
“I was about to say…“ Arthur stopped and buried his head in the crook of Deacon’s neck, the hat falling off somewhere in the process. He breathed in and closed his eyes, as he said softly, “that I think I’m in love with you too.”
A beat of silence followed, as Arthur felt Deacon’s pulse grow quicker and chuckled. He went back to his previous sitting position and kissed the sheriff on the cheek.
“You’re very sweet, by the way.” Arthur whispered, pressing kisses all over Deacon’s face. “And handsome,” he added as he leaned back. Arthur wrapped his arms loosely around Deacon’s neck in a hug and looked between his eyes and his lips. “Deacon Keller, may I kiss you?”
“Please do,” Deacon whispered so he did.
This kiss was different. It wasn’t this hungry want from just a few minutes ago, no. This one was filled with love and burning passion. Like a ship on the sea, like two pieces of a puzzle they fit together perfectly. They complimented each other's differences in a way nobody else ever could (and nobody else ever will). Full of devotion, they kissed until they ran out of breath - a feeling Arthur didn’t know he'd miss so badly.
The brit smiled, breathing heavily. He knew he was extremely red at this point, he could feel it; Deacon was no better than him. His eyes were half-lidded and he had a dopey grin on his face. Arthur felt the cowboy’s hands go back around his waist, securing him in his place.
“You’re very handsome too Arth-”
He was interrupted by the door opening. They stopped in their tracks, realizing they’ve been caught. Shit.
“Deacon… brah, are you… here?” A familiar voice rang out. It was very breathy and nonchalant, yet it made Arthur shiver and look into Deacon’s eyes, as if silently asking for him to keep quiet.
Deacon only shrugged and tightened his hands on Arthur’s waist, smirking.
“Yea Edward? I’m kinda busy right now,” he said, winking at Arthur who was a hot mess in his lap. Arthur quietly grumbled, not wanting Edward to see them like this. This was a private moment, the Primogen could come back later. Deacon was occupied. And he was his.
“When you finish whatever you’re doing, meet me at the bar… The prince is looking for you by the way… Bye, brah…” and just like that he was gone. The man, who sat with baited breath and once orderly slicked-back hair thrown askew by the other’s hat, heard the door close and let out a sigh.
“Finally he left, I hate that guy,” Arthur mumbled, burying his head in the crook of Deacon’s neck again. It was very comfortable. He felt vibrations coming from the other man’s chest and pressed his lips into a thin line. “Stop laughing.”
“Sorry darlin’, you’re just so adorable,” Deacon said, not trying to hide his amusement in the slightest. He weaved his hand into Arthur’s hair - furthuring the wildness courtesy of his beloved hat - playing with it absentmindedly, watching the strands furl and unfurl around his red-hot fingertips. “Do you wanna stay here or go back to the party?”
“Let’s stay here for a bit. Not for long, the prince requires your assistance, but… for a little while longer,” he said, breathing in Deacon’s scent. Deacon smelled like patchouli and cinnamon, but if he focused on the scent more, he could smell hints of firewood which he found funny. A vampire smelling like fire, that’s a good one.
The reminiscence that came in hand-crafted packages with each longing breath sent shockwaves of comfort and yearning through Arthur’s system. This scent of fire - of cinnamon and warmth at a hearth of a winter soon to come - reeled in his body and brain. He couldn’t get enough. Eyes fluttered shut, soul afire, all semblance of sanity dwindled to naught as the very smell of the man before him rendered the vampire completely and utterly dazed.
Deacon sighed and said “anything you want, sweetheart. Anything.” He pressed a kiss to Arthur’s head lovingly as he went back to playing with the brit’s hair.
They didn’t need a serious conversation. They could do that later. What mattered now was them together, safe and comfortable - the outside world could wait a little longer.
They had a whole eternity before them anyway.