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The criminal was supposed to be Altos’ first meal in a week. Stalking him had left the vampire elated, the reek of paranoia and fear reaching its pinnacle over the past couple of nights. Tailing him into an abandoned factory created the perfect moment to attack. As famished as Altos was, it should have been quick once he attacked.
He hadn't gotten that chance.
The superhero Dark Shield surprised him, appearing out of a sudden fog to apprehend Altos’ intended prey.
It still should have been easy. Altos could rip a dozen men to shreds in a moment, so a pair of them would make for a lovely, unexpected feast, in a matter of moments.
Then, Dark Shield fell.
Apparently, as fast as the hero moved when using his obscurity powers, he wasn't agile enough to catch himself as the scaffolding collapsed. It seemed the night remained firmly to the vampire's favor: injured or freshly dead prey would be handed straight to his waiting fangs, with no effort on his part.
And yet, Altos reacted in the most unnatural way.
As he watched Dark Shield lose his footing, his shout echoing amid the harsh shriek and crack of steel, Altos began to scale the dusty crates and rusted equipment. His steps were nimble as he swiftly alighted on each crevasse and foothold, while the hero plunged downward. Arms outstretched, the considerably smaller creature caught the muscular man without effort. Tossing him face-first against the wall, Altos shielded him with his body as the structure crumbled to the concrete floor with a groan and crash, narrowly missing both of them.
His intended prey, however, was not so fortunate.
Altos knew he had to hurry to drink, before the blood of the freshly crushed human below them spoiled. Yet it seemed the same pull that caused him to save the hero kept him there, pressing into his back to securely lock him against the brick wall. Every nerve stood to attention, and not only over the heated scent of his blood. The hero's intense panting shifted his back muscles against Altos’ chest, the sweat that seeped from his skin oddly aromatic. Altos remained flush against one of Dark Shield's firm cheeks, as he pressed his nose and lips to the nape of his neck with a sigh. He heard the man's audible swallow as he traced his lips to the spot where his neck met his shoulder, darting his tongue out to taste his damp skin.
Altos was too thirsty to relish, so why was he taking his time? He was a mere breath away from ecstasy— all he had to do was bite down. It could be over in seconds, his mind and his stomach screamed at him. Yet everything about this felt different. He could nearly hear his dormant heart hammering with a new kind of desire.
“Whoa, thanks! I… I don't know what happened there—”
The nervous, cheerful voice abruptly snapped him out of the reverie. The man's head turned toward his shoulder, peering back at Altos. Deep brown eyes, touched with prisms of carnelian and effused with warmth, caught his own from behind the black mask. The hero's lopsided smile was anxious, sweet, and far too pure.
Before Dark Shield knew what happened, he was pulled away from the wall and set roughly, but safely, on the concrete floor below. He blinked, scanning his surroundings for his rescuer, but found no one. The only evidence someone had been there was the drag of blood that led away from the pile of metal that had crushed the criminal’s body.
For weeks, Dark Shield felt he was being closely watched. The presence was not quite threatening, more of a protective vibe, and he was certain it had to be the man who saved his life.
When Altos finally showed himself, lingering under an awning nearby his apartment building, the hero wasn't sure he should acknowledge him. After all, he was a civilian at the moment, and needed to keep his alter ego a secret. Yet, as their eyes met, he couldn't resist.
Smiling brightly, he paused before Altos. “There you are! I was starting to think I imagined you, with how fast you disappeared on me. Glad I'm not crazy.”
The vampire's verdant gaze fixed on the hero, mesmerized by the slow, musical quality of his accent. Altos blinked away his awe, the rise and fall of his lids languid and feline. “Maybe you are crazy,” he murmured, suddenly averting his eyes.
The man chuckled. “Oh yeah?”
Altos shrugged one shoulder slowly. “No self-preservation instinct.”
“But you don't want to hurt me.”
“You don't know that.” Altos meant to sound menacing, but his tone came out much more seductive than intended.
“Sure I do. You could have killed me when we met. And several times over, ever since.”
“Perhaps I will, yet.”
“Yeah, you could. That's what vampires do, after all.”
Altos stared at him, mystified by his fearlessness. The hero behaved as if a conversation with a vampire was nothing out of the ordinary, and it made him curious. His gaze lingered on the ebony curls that tumbled around his face in coils, and that beautiful fiery-bronze skin that Altos already felt addicted to. Compounded with his accent, Altos suddenly realized where his beliefs originated.
“Ah. You're Creole.”
“Sure am! What tipped you off?”
“Your appearance and accent, obviously,” he intoned. “Also, my kind are recognized and acknowledged in your homeland. It makes sense, then, why you simply accept that I exist.”
“Well, we grew up with the stories as if they were real. That, or you could just say I'm smart and perceptive,” he teased. “That works too.”
Frowning, Altos pondered his next words, as he buried his hands deeply into his pockets. “I don't know you well enough to give you that benefit.”
Celestin laughed, a light and uplifting sound. “Well, maybe we should, then. Get to know each other.”
“What is your given name?” Altos queried, tossing his long, flame-russet hair from his eyes with an elegant flick of his head.
“Celestin.”
Turning to stand beside him, Altos extended his elbow out, indicating for Celestin to take his arm. “Altos.”
With that, the pair walked the streets all night together. Celestin brightly carried the conversation, while Altos offered an occasional remark or one-word answer. Though his eyes were steadily downcast, Altos remained at full attention. They were reluctant to part ways, only doing so when it came too close to dawn for Altos.
It was a few more nights before Altos saw Celestin again.
“Where have you been?” the vampire grumbled, perched outside Celestin's window on the fire escape. He dangled his legs, idly kicking as if disinterested, even though his entire being was tense.
“I have work to do, ya ole grouch. Ah, you missed me?” Celestin cooed, opening the window to lean out of it.
“No.”
“Mmhm.” Chin in hand, he rested his elbow on the sill. Celestin gazed at Altos with a charming smile that made the vampire feel as if his body were melting from the inside. “It's okay. I missed you, too. You and all those freckles.” He reached out a finger and tapped Altos’ nose, the cheerful sound of “boop!” confusing the creature.
Altos wasn't sure which surprised him more— Celestin's admission that he missed him, or the playful tap on his nose. Recovering, he lingered in the tree, listening to Celestin's chatter with an air of disinterest. All the while, inside, he felt both the comfort and excitement that he hadn't known since his lifetime.
Altos had enjoyed all of it too much, he realized, as more nights passed without them seeing one another. He attempted to ignore his craving for the man, something that went far too deep and real… even more gripping than the worst hunger of his existence.
Thirsty and irritated, Altos took his frustration out on an entire gang, gorging himself until he felt blood-drunk. The following night, he received a message from Celestin to meet in a park, beside a secluded pond. Altos was grateful he kept his eagerness to himself, because the man seemed a bit perturbed.
“Was that you?” Celestin asked as they sat in the grass, leaning shoulders against one another as they basked in the light of a full moon. Altos knew what he meant, without explanation.
“Yes.”
“You put a big cramp in a capture I had planned. Again,“ Celestin chastised.
“Oops,” Altos replied, his monotone unapologetic.
“It's not funny! I'm supposed to bring criminals to justice, and you're just going around killing them.”
“That's what vampires do. My choices are pretty fucking limited in this undead life or whatever it is, you know.”
“I get that. I just think—”
“No. You don't get it, because you're too— you’re so—” Altos met his infuriatingly tender gaze, and gathered himself to continue. “I will not drink from innocents. I can make the best of it by feeding from people who deserve death, or I can die. Those are my options.” Aching as he tore himself away from Celestin, Altos rose and stared down at him. “So that leaves you with two options, as well. Look the other way, or kill me.”
“Altos—”
Before Celestin could stop him, the vampire disappeared.
Altos received several texts over the following weeks, each message more desperate and forlorn than the last. He couldn't respond, or bring Celestin to him, without knowing where the man stood.
Yet the longer they went without one another, the more miserable both became. Finally, Altos received the words he had been hoping for.
It's true, I don't understand your existence. I can't. But I can be sympathetic.
Being apart from you all this time hurts more than I thought it could. I'd never kill you. Ever.
In the darkness of the early morning, there came a soft knock at Celestin's door. Opening it, he was faced with a somber vampire, holding the light of hope within his eyes and the largest bouquet of red roses he'd ever seen.
“Thank you, oh thank you for coming,” Celestin told him emphatically. The sincerity in his voice pierced Altos’ heart.
“I respect what you do,” Altos replied. “I will henceforth do my best to not get in the way.”
“You're not in my way. You could never be in my way.” Celestin glanced at the roses, then back to Altos’ tense expression. “Hey, don't roses burn vampire skin? Or is that just a myth?”
“Not a myth. They do.”
“Oh… then why are you still holding them?” Celestin puzzled.
“So you can take them. They're for you…?” Altos suggested. As Celestin admired the flowers, Altos marveled at how adorably dense he was acting, and extended the bouquet abruptly. “Willyoujusttakethem?!” he snapped with urgency.
“Oh— OH! Right,” Celestin exclaimed, sweeping the roses away from him. “Come in, let's take care of those burns.”
Once inside, the scent of everything Celestin attacked his senses. Outwardly, Altos was patient and still, as Celestin treated the burns on his hands and forearms. Even as he did, the injuries were already beginning to fade.
“Guess this wasn't really necessary,” Celestin chuckled self-consciously.
“You, touching me, is necessary.” Altos placed his palm over Celestin's hand, staring intently at him.
“You like that, huh?” he murmured.
“I want us to do more of that.”
Taking his words quite literally, Celestin rose and straddled Altos’ lap. “Are you gonna bite me?”
“No. Not unless you ask it of me,” he promised, his voice a near whisper. “And only for passion. Not for sustenance.”
Without another word, Celestin covered Altos’ mouth with the most enthusiastic kisses he had ever felt. They didn't know how long they stayed there, kissing deeply as Celestin rocked in Altos’ lap. The vampire had grown dazed from the scent and taste of heat and sweat from his skin. Soon he began to feel heavy and tired, the imminent dawn weighing on him. Attempting to fight it for more kisses, Altos seemed groggy as Celestin pulled away, taking a shuddering breath.
“Let's get you to bed.”
“I can't stay where there are windows. The sun—”
“It's okay. I got you.” As Celestin spoke, a black cloud surrounded them, forming a sort of walled-in space that blotted out the light. Altos had seen Celestin's powers used for illusion and distraction, never for the shield that it truly could become. It relaxed him immensely, and at the same time, began to wake him from the haze he felt from the dawn.
Enrobed in darkness, Altos kissed his way over Celestin's neck as he moved them to the bedroom.
“I thought you were tired?” Celestin commented, the amusement in his voice interrupted by his hitched breath.
“No,” came the perfunctory answer.
They settled into their embrace as if it were always meant to be. The man yielded to his kisses and testing bites without fear, spurring Altos on to explore more intensely. How perfect this could be: instead of squabbling over morality issues, the superhero and the vampire could simply protect one another. The idea of having someone of his own, who accepted and adored him, once seemed impossible. Yet, as he pulled away briefly, Altos could see Celestin's expression through the darkness. The sweet, trusting smile ignited a confusing sense of humility and possessiveness. As he dove back into their embrace with deep, intense caresses, Celestin's incomprehensible mumble gave him chills. Altos replied with a questioning grunt.
“Cuteness… aggr— aggression?”
His mouth busy, Altos offered another unintelligible sound, and Celestin laughed breathlessly.
“Like when,” he whispered, “it's, um… all too much and you don't know what to d— do so you…” he let out a long exhale and a curse, arching his beautifully toned body. “Just do whatever. All over the place.”
Cuteness aggression. He had never heard that before, nor had he ever experienced it, but it seemed to fit. As much as he refused to admit it aloud, Altos knew there was a lot he could learn from Celestin.
Beginning with love, and happiness.