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Tony was the golden child- the charming, smart, smooth-talking one, the athletic one- the one that, even at 13, you could tell was going to be handsome. He had the entire Sackville-Bagg clan a little star-struck, even Frederick. The Sackville-Bagg’s, by contrast, were unsociable, reclusive outsiders, as beget by their existence as vampires, who (un)lived their days by structures, set in place by ancient pattern and counter-logical tradition. As such, they had no idea what to do when this sunshine-bright little child, the brightest thing in their nocturnal lives, crashed in and trampled all over their careful structures, other than watch in fascination. The Thompson’s, of course, were exceptionally easy-going, and allowed their son to spend plenty of time hanging out with a bunch of dead people. Bob even went so far as to apologize to him, for “dismissing your interests, kiddo,” which Tony quickly accepted and then brushed off.
As it stood, in the beginning, Tony only got to visit maybe twice a year- plane tickets were expensive, scheduling was difficult. Even if Tony had the time off school, his parents usually still had to work. So they came for a week or two in the summer, and a long weekend over winter break, if Tony was lucky.
Despite the time gaps, Tony and Rudy were good friends. They had met so young that shame hadn’t set in yet, allowing touch to become a habit- then, as years passed, the normal ‘no homo’ teenage-boy boundaries that would normally develop just… didn’t. Tony and Rudy were still holding hands to fly, and hugging, cuddling, even sharing a bed (and/or coffin) with little hesitation, well into their teens. Rudy’s favorite place in the world to be was leaning against Tony’s neck- no, not in a vampiric way, it was just warm and comfy and he liked it. Their relationship was simple and affectionate.
Tony didn’t notice any change, at first. It seemed like everything would be the same forever. Rudy never looked any different to his eyes- but then again, neither did Tony to his own eyes, in the way that the change was gradual and not noticed day-by-day, until he looked at an old photo, or something equivalent. He knew that he was growing, but he hardly noticed, for a while, and, of course, Rudy would never change. Vampires never did.
Until Great Uncle Gernot’s teeth started falling out. It wasn’t until the clan started investigating the cause, mystified beyond belief, that someone noticed: his gums had started rotting, degenerating, like they were getting old.
It wasn’t just him, either. Frederick awoke one morning to creaky knees and an aching back. Freda felt lines on her forehead under her fingertips that hadn’t been there before. Something was wrong. Panic started to spread as word got out, vampires growing increasingly frantic, inspecting themselves and finding more and more changes every day. Something was very wrong.
“What’s happening to us?” Rudy whispered in terror one day into Tony’s shoulder. Tony said nothing, just ran a hand through the back of his spiky hair, cupping the crown of his head and pulling him a little closer.
They searched, en masse, for a reason, Tony and both his parents and nearly every single member of the over 200-strong Sackville-Bagg clan. They checked gravestones and mausoleums and churches, they checked underwater archives and ancient folklore. In the end, it was a distant relative, one whose name neither Tony or Rudy knew, who found the answer, but it was Anna who explained it to the two of them.
There was a small, dusty tome, literally buried inside another book, shoved in a dark corner of a smaller wing of the family library. It was handwritten in a scribbling font, in a primitive dialect that took three translators, plus the original finder, to understand.
Love, the book told them. Love is the exact antithesis to Death. Contrary to popular belief, Life is not the opposite of Death, as one can go an entire lifetime in perfect health, and if they have not felt Love, then they have not truly Lived.
‘Love’ was a very broad term, it went on to say. It could mean many, many things, but in this particular case, it was being used to indicate a relationship between two sentient beings. A man and a woman, a human and a pet, a set of sisters, even a vampire and a human.
Soulmates, it mentioned casually, is a colloquial term which could be applied. The Love can start at any point, of course, but the clock starts when skin touches skin. That’s a very important moment for soulmates of any kind. The immediate impact will be irrevocable mortality for the afflicted vampire and any of their blood relations.
Nothing else will change; not their diet, nor their complexion, nor their sleep patterns. There is nothing that can be done. They have been given a wonderful curse.
“A wonderful curse?” Rudolph parroted incredulously. “How is sudden and irreversible mortality wonderful?”
His sister hesitated. “I’m… not quite sure. But the author seemed to believe that a temporary life, as a vampire or otherwise, was actually better than a permanent one. Something about the… fleeting nature of value, I suppose. We can’t- well, we can’t find any record of the author in any time past the 12th century, and the… the theory is that they had this. Curse, affliction, whatever you want to call it. That they were a mortal vampire, and they still liked it that much.”
Tony frowned. “But how have we not known about this? Like, the literature is there. Why isn’t it common knowledge through the clans?”
“It’s likely that it was intentional,” Anna hedged, “That could be why all the clans are so isolated today. They started hiding out when this was well known, to keep from ever meeting any- soulmates,” she seemed to have difficulty swallowing the word, “and by the time it became routine, the information had faded from memory, but the isolation remained.”
“Alright, fine,” Rudolph fumed. “All that aside. But how hasn’t it happened anymore? There are plenty of couples in the clan. Mother and Father are in love, aren’t they?”
“I’m not an expert, you know,” Anna sniped back, but continued on to answer the question anyway. “ It’s probably because they were already together when they were turned. We were a whole family, already. That’s why we haven’t aged in 300 years.”
“Until now,” Tony added grimly.
They all fell silent.
Dusty disquiet prevailed, until muffled footsteps sounded up the stairs in the hall. Anna and Rudy exchanged wide-eyed looks- they knew what their father’s footsteps sounded like, and if he was actually walking, that meant he was really mad. Anna made a sympathetic face, then scurried away while she had the chance.
With a click of the worn knob, Frederick stood in the door. He stared at his youngest son, eyes full of fire. Then he turned his gaze on Tony.
Rudy, despite the increasing shaking of his hands, set his jaw, and placed himself in front of his friend. He held cold, dead eye contact with his father. You will not touch him, his stance said. I will not let you, his face agreed.
Frederick held his eyes for a long moment, both vampires lifting their shoulders in defensive stances that looked unnervingly similar, until Frederick went loose. He dropped his posture, sighing through his nose. He gave them both a final glance- enraged, yet deferring- then turned around and left without saying a word.
“...I guess that means it was us,” Tony finally said.
It was, in fact, the two of them. Anthony and Rudolph were meant for each other, but they didn’t think too hard about that right then. Platonic love was just as effective as any other. There were other things, bigger problems, more imperative topics to discuss. The Sackville-Bagg’s were going to die, eventually, and that wasn’t an idea any of them had needed to face in a very long time.
Some of them hated Tony for it, of course. Some of them blamed Rudy too. Others were actually grateful, in one way or another. Some of the older vampires, his father included, tried to ban Tony from the castle, but Rudy quickly put the idea in the ground before it had the chance to gain support.
Rudy himself found that once they had figured out the cause of the sudden and mystifying ailments within the clan, he wasn’t particularly upset about it, at least on a personal level. He had never found immortality to be anything but everlastingly boring. It wasn’t until he had met Tony that he felt he was truly living.
“I’m sorry,” Tony tried to say at one point.
You’re worth it, Rudy wanted to reply, but he said “It doesn’t make a difference,” instead. “What’s done is done, it doesn’t matter how far they try to send you. Besides, I’m always happy to be your friend.”
Time went on. The sting of unplanned mortality faded, and although they’d certainly made some enemies, most of the clan adjusted eventually. Tony and Rudy went eight months before they saw each other again, thanks to a busy schedule in San Diego, until finally, Tony’s parents decided to move to Germany. Tony was going into his junior year, and the school was offering programs to study abroad. His mom had managed to line up a job in the southernmost part of the country. His dad hadn’t gotten one yet, but he unpacked all their boxes and set up the new house.
Tony had a rough time in school, what with needing to learn an entirely new language, but god, he didn’t care. Rudolph was thirty minutes away, and he could visit any time he wanted. Two weeks into the move, he pulled out his shiny new learner’s permit, got permission to borrow the car, and drove his happy ass all the way up the winding road to the cobblestone Bed ‘N’ Breakfast that sat in the picturesque green hills. He parked (on his third attempt) and ran up the first flight of stairs. He would have gone up the second, but Rudy was already there, having come running too, and Tony had known that if he had changed then so had Rudy, but he hadn’t expected him to look so… different. Rudy had gotten taller, probably taller than Tony, now, especially if you counted the hair. He had gotten skinnier, lankier, older. It was… better, maybe. Cuter.
He pushed away the moment of shock and tackled his friend in a hug. Rudy was grinning wide, fangs glinting in the dim light. Tony set their foreheads together and laughed, joyful and euphoric after so long apart, and Rudy joined in.
Things changed slowly after that, although both Rudy and Tony were changing quickly. Shortly after moving in, Tony had to learn how to shave, and Rudy was in the process of replacing his entire wardrobe, seeing as he’d outgrown it all.
Still, it came as a surprise. It was movie night, and they had sat in their normal way: Tony on his back, propped up by pillows to see the boxy tv that Rudy had gotten just for this, and Rudy, curled up on his side, with his head on Tony’s chest. It was normal, this was how they always sat. Why, then, when Rudy’s nose happened to brush against Tony’s throat, did Tony get a jolt up his spine? The contact was normal, it happened all the time, especially sitting as they were. So why was it different? What had changed?
It happened again, with the two of them settled in a clearing in the forest, having just finished a meal. Tony's eyes caught on Rudy's face for just a moment; the way the moonlight highlighted his cheekbones, his nose, his brow. He blinked and went back to stacking the dishes.
The third time, they were playing a board game. It was Rudy’s turn, and he was taking far too long to calculate a simple move, so Tony had nothing to do but sit, and stare. Rudy had gotten older again, as he was wont to do these days. His face was sharper, more mature. Tony squinted, trying hard not to stare at his lips, then gave up and fixed his gaze on the floorboards instead.
Sometimes, they would even go into town for a night- only in the very late hours, of course. Traveling with a vampire made danger an afterthought, so they would catch midnight showings at the theater, eat at cheap 24-hour diners, and take long walks through the dimly-lit laid-brick walkways of the historic districts. But it was a night at home, huddled up with the boxy tv, Rudy’s hand curled loosely in the fabric over Tony’s heart and Rudy’s nose tucked up to his collarbone, when Rudy turned further into him and brushed a featherlight kiss onto the side of his neck.
Tony froze. Rudy’s thumb brushed arcs over his racing heart. “What are you doing?” Tony whispered hoarsely.
“I’m not going to bite you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“It’s not.”
Rudy did it again, placing a kiss just below his pulse point, then more solid, just below that.
“Rudy.”
“What? Sorry, I’ll stop, I just thought-”
He trailed off. Tony took a slow, deep breath, in, and out. “What did you think?”
Rudy just ducked his head, and Tony couldn’t help but be reminded of the day they had first met, how scared they both had been. He took another deep breath, then sat up, gently setting their foreheads together like he’d done a million times.
“Whatever you’re thinking is probably right,” he said into the inches between them.
They sat and breathed together, and although Rudy may not have needed the oxygen, it was calming all the same. Tony slipped his hands from Rudy’s shoulders to cradle his jaw, and looked at what he could see from here: the bottom half of his face, so much different than it had been years ago, his nose, chin, adam’s apple, collarbones, in quick succession, all defined now like they hadn’t been, the line of his shoulders, so much more intentional even in moments in this. This, all of this, had turned out to be a wonderful curse.
“Can I-” Rudy hesitantly asked.
Tony pulled him forward before he could finish to finally, finally kiss him.