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The bar was more crowded than Sollux liked, a little hole in the wall place jammed with locals. He hadn’t been in town long, hadn’t even unpacked the stacks of boxes in his postage stamp apartment, but the easy, overlapping conversations he overheard, the comfortable confidence of everyone there, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was the only one in the building who wasn’t a regular. Already, the noise and the heat of bodies packed in like sardines was starting to get to him, but it was the only place he’d found in town to get a drink, so he’d just have to endure it.
The hunger tying his stomach in knots was even more difficult to endure than all the other forms of discomfort, sharp enough to morph from merely uncomfortable to genuine pain, but he had no choice but to ignore it. Sollux stood at the bar, counting out the bills in his wallet, and ordered a burger with his drink. It would make him sick later, no doubt, but he used to enjoy them before he was turned. Having some food in front of him might make him feel less conspicuous than merely sitting and drinking alone.
To his alarm though, perspiring highball glass clutched in one pale hand, there was hardly a free seat in the place. Humans were nearly stacked on top of one another at the bar, and the tables weren’t much better. He scanned the room, eyes bouncing back and forth, back and forth across the space. None that were both free and clean. Off in the far corner though, where the light didn’t quite reach and the rest of the bar seemed to start melting into a strangely liminal plane, there was a small table with only one occupant. A man alone just as he was, his gruff expression staring off into nothing and his hand wrapped around the half-full glass of amber liquid.
Sollux steeled himself and started across the buzzing room. Everywhere, as if they were crowding in on him, he could hear the heartbeats, smell the flowing blood of dozens of healthy (and not so healthy) humans. He could feel the prick of fangs in his mouth, razor-sharp tips grazing his own tongue. It was almost tempting to bite down, to taste the iron tang of nourishment even if it was his own. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on the lonesome man, studying the way he kept his coat and scarf on even in the heat of a crowded tavern.
He pulled out the chair across from him and cleared his throat, waiting to be noticed. It took all of a fraction of a second. The man’s head jerked up from staring into his glass. The most beautiful, intense blue eyes Sollux had ever seen were now boring directly into his own.
“The fuck do you want?” he snarled, all edge, and damn, Sollux sure knew how to pick them.
“Mind if I sit? There’s nowhere else free.” He gestured with his own full glass to indicate the crowded room, then took a sip. Berries and mint danced on his tongue, almost making the foreknowledge of his later sickness worth it.
“Yes, actually, I do mind, thanks for askin’.” The man was still glaring at him, cheeks faintly flushed from the liquor. Sollux wavered momentarily, as if he was drunk himself, and imagined sucking the man’s soft lower lip into his mouth, biting until it bled and using it as an appetizer for his throat. He gripped the back of the chair harder and set his drink down on the table.
“I won’t be a bother.” A lie, and one he didn’t care all that much if the stranger saw through. He sat down, took another long sip, and looked the man straight in the eyes. Neither one of them flinched.
“You’re already a bother,” the man said. Sollux laughed. Normally it would piss him off to be talked to like that, especially by someone he hadn’t done a damn thing to, but there was something about this man, with his haunted, closed-off expression and the way his aggression seemed to be covering for something, a poor band-aid for whatever was hidden underneath. Sollux didn’t quite know what that was, but he’d like to find out. Perhaps he had a natural inclination for seeking out broken people, hoping to find someone as profoundly doomed as he himself was.
“What’s your name?” he asked after a while of just drinking and watching him, tracing paths in the condensation with a fingertip.
“What’s it to ya?” The man lifted a heavy brow, his expression no more welcoming than it had been when he first approached, but Sollux wasn’t trying to influence him, not yet. He found the man’s natural demeanor too fascinating to tamp down with vampiric glamour, a talent he loathed using even on far less pleasant individuals. “Thought you said you weren’t gonna be a bother to me.”
“I didn’t realize asking your name was such an imposition. I’m new in town, that’s all. Don’t know anyone yet. So?” He raised an eyebrow right back, intent enough on his quarry that he couldn’t feel too self-conscious about his lisp, his fangs’ eternal enmity with his tongue. “I’m Sollux. And you are?”
“Eridan,” the man gritted out before taking a drink. Sollux watched his Adam's apple bob, partially obscured by the soft, loose folds of his scarf. He leaned a little closer, to better hear the thrum of his blood over all the other noise of the bar. Just as he expected, it was the most appealing in the place. Even the smell of it, though ostensibly just the same as anyone else’s blood, was more deliciously tempting than—
A waiter came by with his burger, interrupting his reverie. Sollux muttered his thanks with a hand over his mouth so his fangs wouldn’t be seen at such close range.
Eating, of course, was a different matter, and when he took his first bite, a bit of ketchup dripping onto the plate, he could see the precise moment Eridan saw the dim light glint off his too long, too sharp canines.
“You’re—” He looked like he was going to push back from the table and get up, so much as he didn’t want to, Sollux turned on the charm just enough to keep him in place. He set his burger back down and smiled, trying to look as harmless as could be.
“Hungry,” he finished for him, and against all his intentions, his smile grew a little more dangerous at the double meaning. “Don’t be a douchebag about it and make a fuss, alright? I told you I wasn’t going to bother you. Then you’ll just be the weirdo here, flipping your lid over nothing like an Olympic gymnast.” He grinned a little wider, giving him a good look. Eridan tugged nervously at his scarf, squirming in his seat. Sollux bet he was strong enough to throw off the glamour entirely, what with him only using a little, but he didn’t seem to have realized it.
“I don’t have anythin’ for you, bloodsucker. Stop lookin’ at me like I’m a cut a filet mignon.”
“Oh, but you do. I can tell you must taste incredible. Anyone ever told you that before?” A bit of innuendo to fluster him, a trick that seemed to work judging by the deeper flush crawling out along Eridan’s cheekbones. He merely shook his head in response to Sollux’s query, either shocked speechless or devoting all his focus to fighting his way out of his chair and away from him.
“Just dinner, then I swear you won’t be dealing with me again if you don’t want to.” He wanted Eridan to agree, was the thing, even if he had to be coaxed a little to get there. So many other vampires shamelessly lured humans into being their donors, but Sollux had never quite been comfortable with that. He liked to leave their free will intact as much as he could.
Eridan was visibly fighting the influence, fingers of one hand curling stubbornly into a fist against the tabletop. He was wearing so many rings that Sollux was surprised to find him in a grungy dive like this instead of a swanky cocktail lounge. Beyond that, however, he noticed that his nails were painted. Violet, the combination of the alternating red and blue on his own. The coincidence made his still heart flutter.
He downed the rest of his drink before he answered, swiping the back of that clenched fist over his mouth. It was cute that he needed liquid courage to say yes.
“Fine. One meal, then you’re gone.”
“I knew you’d see it my way. C’mon, we can step outside and get it over with right now,” he offered, finishing his own drink in turn. Half-melted ice cubes clunked in the bottom of the glass.
Eridan was far stiffer as he got up, every muscle so visibly tense that if not for that alluring pulsing of blood through his veins, Sollux might have thought he was the undead one, a zombie or ghoul who hadn’t quite started visibly rotting. Just to be certain he could get him to come along without any further psychic suggestion, he reached out and grabbed his hand. At first, Eridan’s hand was still clenched into a tight fist, requiring Sollux to awkwardly wrap his fingers around it, but as he wove between tables, abandoning their lonesome corner, he felt it loosen, interlocking better with his own hand. He couldn’t say Eridan felt eager to hold his hand, but he accepted it. That was enough.
“Back here,” Eridan said gruffly the moment they stepped past the threshold and into the night. He motioned around the corner of the building, into the narrow alleyway separating it from the next. “I don’t know what it’s like where you come from, but folks don’t take kindly to vampires in these parts. I ain’t interested in bein’ seen doin’ somethin’ like this.” He shot him another look, harder to make out between puddles of lamplight than it was inside the bar, and Sollux just nodded. It was chilly out, sending a shiver down his spine and making him wish he still had the body heat of the living, so he pressed in closer to the human’s side as they made their way out of view.
“It’s no different where I’m from. There’s very few places where vampires are welcome, but I’m sure you know that already.” Few people didn’t, unless they were naive and idealistic to a degree that Eridan didn’t give off the impression of in the slightest. The comment was probably meant to hurt him, but he wouldn’t take it out on his donor. No, instead he intended to be even more careful, so he could prove to him that it wasn’t so bad being a living blood bag. He might even be coming back for more.
“It’s sick, the way you prowl the streets thinkin’ you can get a free meal from anyone you spot. You should be ashamed.” Oh, he was, but that wasn’t something Eridan deserved to hear, not when he was still little more than a stranger. Sollux pushed him a little too roughly up against the brick wall, needing to summon up some extra vampiric strength to do so. Without it, he knew his spindly, out of shape frame stood little chance against anyone remotely athletic.
“You’re the one who agreed,” he reminded him, one hand braced firmly against Eridan’s shoulder. The other reached up to trace fingers along his jaw, gently tilting his head up and back to better expose his neck. His scarf hung loose and open, exposing enough clean, unmarked flesh for his purposes. “I didn’t force you to say yes, however much you might like to tell yourself I did. Doesn’t that make you equally complicit in this shameful behavior?”
Sollux didn’t wait for an answer. He just dove in, pressing his lips hotly to Eridan’s neck in a kiss. He sucked gently at his skin, feeling a rapid pulse thud-thud-thud against his tongue. None of it strictly necessary; he could have gone in with fangs first. But the way Eridan twitched and grabbed at his waist in return proved that it was the right option. He groaned quietly against his skin, waiting until he’d sucked a nice dark bruise into it before sinking his fangs in, so quick and sharp as to be virtually painless.
Eridan clearly felt it though, grabbing him all the more desperately. His fingers rucked up the bottom of Sollux’s shirt, violet nails biting into his skin, but even if he drew blood himself, Sollux couldn’t be bothered. Not when he could taste his very life force on his tongue, the metallic sweetness of a sheepishly willing target. Let him claw and whine and squirm if he wished, all of it only made him a more satisfying meal.
He couldn’t tear his mouth away from Eridan’s throat to reassure him, but he hummed indistinctly against his skin, one bony hand caressing his cheek. You’re okay, you’re fine. I won’t drink too much. His tongue lapped at Eridan’s skin around the twin punctures he’d made, tasting him greedily, and as the warmth spread throughout his body, it was easy to forget both the crisp October air and his own lack of natural heat. He’d never tasted anyone so good.
Eridan’s hand carded roughly through his hair, pulling at black and blonde strands and trying to wrench him away. Fuck, he’d been distracted enough to loosen his grip on the human’s other arm. Sollux growled in annoyance as his fangs were forcibly extracted from Eridan’s neck, swiping a hand over his mouth. He was sure it had hurt more than if he’d pulled back himself, evidenced by the narrow trickle of blood still dripping down over the hickey he’d left, but served Eridan right for his impatience.
“I was being safe,” he slurred out, drunker on blood than alcohol. “You’re fussy. It might scar now, you know, the way you ripped me out of you like that.”
Eridan’s pretty face flushed again. He wavered, maybe lightheaded from the sudden blood loss, but shoved Sollux farther away, so not a single inch of their bodies were touching any longer.
“And I’m supposed to trust the word of a vampire? No way was I gonna stand here and let you bleed me dry. Now, if you don’t mind, I fulfilled my end of the deal. I’ll be going now.” He sniffed imperiously, taking half a step away from the wall’s support, and Sollux’s eyes followed the path of a hand up to his neck. He clamped it over where Sollux had bitten, clearly distrustful of the healing properties of vampire saliva.
“You look a little shaky. Sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” He sidled a little closer, extending an arm for Eridan to take. His back stung a little, sharp and jagged. He couldn’t wait to get a look at the scratches in the mirror.
“Quite sure. Goodbye, Sollux.” Trying so damn hard to seem strong and capable, Eridan began to totter around the corner and down the sidewalk, bobbing and weaving more than he seemed to be aware of. Sollux watched as his silhouette grew smaller and smaller, licking the last traces of blood from his lips.
When there was enough distance between them, he started to follow. He’d make sure Eridan got home safe, one way or another.