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Alexis grew up in one of the little Bavarian villages that were scattered around Münich's countryside. Of course he knew all the old superstitions—primroses for safety, rosemary for protection; and of course, cold iron to ward off the fae.
He has a metal cross pressed against his neck under his jacket-collar; he has a drink in his hand—and most importantly, he has the most beautiful boy he's ever seen smiling at him underneath the disco lights.
"Come with me," says the stranger, and he follows wordlessly, lost to something more potent than alcohol.
His feet move by themselves, and a smile stretches on his lips, and he doesn't even flinch, or start, or even think of running away when he notices that the stranger's breath does not mist in the cold German winter.
"At least," he manages to spell out, "tell me your name."
A laugh, wild and feckless. "Only after I've taken all I wish," says the creature, and he bends down to steal a kiss before he recoils, moon-pale arm burnt black by the chain of Alexis' cross.
The haze shatters. Alexis scrambles, but then stops, transfixed by the inhuman blue eyes that glare at him, offended.
"Cold iron?" sighs the stranger, as he licks the burn on his arm thoughtfully. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?”
"I try my best," says Alexis faintly, and the fae smiles back with a mouth full of too many teeth.
"You're fun!" exclaims the creature, and then Alexis is rudely grabbed by the forearm and tugged forward. "I promise," coos the thing, "that I'll give you a night you'll never forget.”
There are a hundred different things Alexis could do, each one better than walking into the long cold night with a boy made of hunger and a smile like spilled glass.
"I could never forget you anyways," he says instead, and he takes the boy's hand.