Chapter Text
It all begins with a harmless sip from what might be a bottle of wine.
"Welcome to the club, Michael," he hisses, brushing up against the boy who startles and flinches. For a second, Michael looks confused, a little bit guarded, but when David puts an arm around his shoulder his troubled expression seems to falter as he takes another sip.
"Yeah, Mikey! Now you're one of us!" Paul shouts, grinning as he dances around the fountain, his hair a wild mess, eyes sparkling in glee.
Marko and Dwayne share a secret smirk as they watch Paul's animated display… before Michael takes a long, extended drink; then they grin, too, all teeth and fierce joy. David lets out a huff of laughter when the boy groans and stumbles into him, a glazed look in his eyes.
Star has already retreated to her cosy safe space, Laddie clutched to her side. David knows she is upset, but he can't exactly blame her this time. Michael was meant to be hers. Now he is David's. She would be sore about it for a few days, maybe weeks, but she'd eventually get over it. She'll have to, because he's not letting her have Michael. He's not letting the kid go, oh no, not without a damn good fight.
Paul manages to coax Michael into smoking four joints by the time the blood in the bottle is empty—and by the time feeding Michael a lungful of bud becomes a bore and he finds his interest in something else, throwing a rock at a flock of pigeons while Marko sits on the edge of the fountain, an annoyed scowl on his face, one of the fleeing pigeons perched on his arm.
Michael is sprawled between his legs, back to David's chest; his limbs are loose and he looks barely lucid, red smearing his chin and bottom lip. David can feel the boy's warmth, hear his jagged breaths, smell the arousal on his skin. Vampire blood's one of the most potent aphrodisiacs a human could ever experience in their lifetime, and Michael's body is slowly coming to terms with that fun little fact.
Michael doesn't fight, nor does he struggle or protest when David pushes a hand under the layer of his shirt, merely arches into the touch as an incoherent murmur slips through his lips. The boy's heart had been calm, steady, but now it has sped up, the beat of it stuttering to each stroke of David's fingers over his abdomen. He chuckles, fingers mapping out the ridges of Michael's hips and following a trail of hair further down, lower. Michael arches into the touch again, almost like a cat, head rolling back onto David's shoulder as his breaths become heavier.
Paul and Marko are bickering, so Dwayne is the only one who notices what he's doing. David raises an eyebrow with an insolent shrug.
'What. He's fair game.'
Dwayne shakes his head, rolling his eyes.
'You're a bastard.'
'Michael doesn't seem to think so.' He smirks, sliding his hand below the waistband of Michael's jeans, stopping when he feels his fingers brush against the boy's cock. He's not fully hard, not yet, but David has ways to deal with that. "Do you, Michael?"
Dwayne rolls his eyes again when Michael blinks dazedly and doesn't respond other than weakly lifting his lower body up to meet David's hand.
"You gonna do that here," he says gruffly, incredulous. David turns to see if Paul and Marko have noticed yet, but both of them are still pushing each other around and flinging insults back and forth. Dwayne follows his eyes and sighs. "David."
"Shut up, Dwayne," he snaps, tired of his brother's morality complex. Dwayne, for his credit, does go quiet, but David feels his eyes lingering.
It doesn't take long to finish him off. David's blood in the boy's veins, every slick movement of his hand, and, well, Michael's needy cock is a hair-trigger just waiting to explode. A few seconds later, that's exactly what happens. Michael's back bows, face screwed up in forced pleasure, letting out a string of pained hiccupping noises as his hips jerk forward.
Dwayne continues to stare, eyes narrowed, as he removes his hand and wipes some of the mess on Michael's stomach. He licks the rest of the boy's come from his fingers, and his brother's eyes narrow further.
"Holy shit!"
David dismisses Dwayne to turn and glare at Paul; the blond's wide eyes and ridiculous, open-mouthed expression. Marko is looking too, biting on the thumb of his glove, like he normally does when he's distracted by something.
"Nothing to see here, boys," he says. He pets a hand through Michael's curls and traces his nails along the smooth skin of his bare throat, applying enough pressure for the kid's breath to wheeze.
"Whatever you say, boss," Marko snickers, but he diverts his attention to the pigeon on his arm all the same.
"No fair, man. How come you get to have him?" Paul whines, crossing his arms, ever the petulant child, and David growls. Thankfully, it gets Paul to quit complaining and wander off to sulk someplace else.
Dwayne is still watching him, but David ignores him in favour of scooping Michael up in his arms. Michael's easy to carry, his body limp, boneless, no weight at all, and he lays him on Star's bed. She immediately rushes over, doe eyes burning in anger, a confused Laddie hiding behind her.
"What did you do to him, David?" she accuses venomously, and he smirks.
'Wouldn't you like to know.'
"I don't under—" Star's mouth parts in shock as she notices Michael's shirt has ridden up slightly, the drops of come glistening on his skin. "D-David…" she starts, her voice trembling, but he walks away.
Too bad he's already heard that dramatised speech before.