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Frederick's fingers were clammy and cold where they gripped Will's neck, kneading weakly as his head hung low between them. His whole body seemed to shake with exertion, though he was doing nothing more than sitting, hunched forward with his feet barely balanced on the rings of the creaky wooden stool in their kitchen. A low groan rose from him, and Will tensed. There was something off, a double tone that rose with Frederick's own voice, a whine like a pained animal. Will felt all the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
Eyes wide with fright and worry, Will opened his mouth on a question, but nothing came out. His chest ached, his own skin prickled with sweat, and he inched forward, brushing his nose nervously through the tousled waves of Frederick’s tangled and smoky-smelling hair. He knew there was danger, could see it in the twisting cords of Frederick's arms, in the hulking shift of his huge shoulders that came with each laboured breath. But there'd always been a chance this could happen, a frightful and irrational thought at the back of Will’s mind after everything had happened.
Drunk and clumsy that night in the woods, Will remembered how he’d been focused on Frederick's winsome grin, the way leaves had gotten stuck in his hair. The cold had pressed in on them in the forest, a cloying fog that followed them along the path. But all Will remembered about that moment had been the heat between their joined hands and the feeling of Frederick's smile curling against his cheek as they laughed together. The moonlight dappled over their shoulders as they meandered under the dark canopy of the trees, and Will remembered clearly how Frederick's eyes had shone with mirth.
It had all happened so quickly- the snap of a twig in the woods to their left and abruptly a searing pain at the back of Will’s knees and he'd crumpled to the ground with a short cry. It was like a silent movie playing in his head, no distinct audio despite the hollow hiss of the wind amongst the leaves. Every shout or snap of branches or rustle of leaves was muffled, as though all the sound hadn’t been recorded in his panic. Frederick's eyes had widened, the sudden tight grip of his fingers on Will's own nearly painful. It was hard to forget the fearful confusion that had gripped them both as the forest quieted around them and everything became slow.
There had been a moment that was so brief it was incredible how it had been burned into his memory with such clarity, had seemed to stretch out for so long. Frederick, crouched beside him, with his fingers tightened on Will's and his brows furrowed. His eyes were alert as he looked around them and saw nothing. His gaze met Will's for only a moment, and Will saw his own fear reflected back at him.
"Fred-" Like a puppet being pulled by its middle, Frederick's feet were lifted out from under him and he was bent nearly double as he disappeared swiftly backwards into the darkness, his choked shriek of fright dying away almost immediately. Will's fingers bled where Frederick had desperately dug in his nails in an attempt to hang on.
Rage and fear and confusion boiled out of Will in a series of plaintive screams as he followed thirty feet off the trail only to realize it was futile. He collapsed in the wet leaves, vapour collecting around him with each heaving breath. He'd lost Frederick to the forest- no, to something else. When his cries died down, there was only that hollow sound of the leaves as they swept past him from the shivering trees.
Will hadn't hesitated long before taking off for the village. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t quite explain what he’d seen or what had happened. Frederick had been taken- by force. Surely that would rouse them. Surely someone would care. He ran through the forest and out into the street and his footfalls reverberated off the surrounding buildings, loud in the small, quiet town. His lungs were burning when he'd burst into the station, and the two officers at the desk had jumped to their feet, scared witless by the ragged boy with the tear-streaked face and bloodied hands. They took his statement and sent out a patrol car, but to them he'd just been another drunk kid. He burned with rage as they gave him concerned sideways glances and tried to calm him as they wrapped his bleeding fingers.
Frederick returned to him nearly a full day later, skin pale and clothes torn, with two angry unmistakeable puncture marks at the base of his neck. His eyes and cheeks were covered in blood, and he looked near death when Will found him slumped on the porch. He refused to answer Will's questions and shook his head when Will pressed a glass of cool water to his chapped lips. Nevertheless, they clung to each other, and didn't leave the house for two days, Frederick's fingers digging into his arms with surprising strength whenever Will talked about taking him to the hospital.
Something changed on the third day, just as night fell. Suddenly Frederick needed to be outside, and it took all of Will's strength to restrain him. After a brief struggle by the kitchen door, Frederick finally allowed himself to be led to the stool.
Now, in the half-light cast by the last remaining bulb above the sink, Will couldn't look away, didn't dare to. He leaned closer in increments and Frederick’s head rose a bit, tilting to breath deeply into the crook of Will's neck. Finally Will took a chance and raised a hand slowly to slide up Frederick's arm. His fingers settled on the still present bumps on Frederick’s neck. The boy shuddered and slid his own fingers up into the hair at the base of Will’s scalp, his fingertips cool against Will’s flushed skin.
"What's happening?" Will’s voice was a hushed whisper but somehow seemed too loud in the silence that had settled around them. Frederick took a great shuddering breath and Will shivered in kind, holding his breath as Frederick's nose traced a line up his neck. He remained as still as possible, his nerves lit up and his muscles braced. His body recognized he was in immediate danger.
The moment seemed to stretch out forever before Frederick's whole body seemed to tense and relax, and he finally raised his head to consider Will fully. His jaw was slack, lips red and bruised as though he'd been chewing on them, and Will couldn't miss the way his incisors extended too-long and sharp amongst the rest of his teeth. His eyes were an unearthly green, and full of painful longing. Another keening whine rose between them and Will shivered to hear the animalistic growl that followed alongside Frederick's voice.
"Hurts-" Frederick was hoarse from days of not speaking. "Hurts, it's hurtsss..." Red tears blossomed along his eyes and Will began to panic anew. He pulled in a quick breath, and prepared to speak, but at his sudden shift, Frederick’s gaze had changed. He let his mouth hang open, as though his teeth ached, and another low moan lilted out as his eyes lost focus and seemed to wander hungrily down Will’s body.
It all seemed impossible, and quite plainly ridiculous, but Will had never known with such certainty before what was required of him until that moment. Frederick watched with the hardened eyes of a cornered animal as Will reached blindly with shaking fingers until he touched the wooden hilt of a knife on the counter. The noise as he slowly dragged it along the countertop was deafening. His fingers shook as he finally gripped the handle and held it between them. Frederick's frame trembled and shook with tension, but his eyes focused unerringly on Will's movements as though he were prepared to lunge.
Will didn't make a sound as he dragged the tip of the blade along his own flesh, making a shallow incision an inch long just above his collarbone. Frederick’s body seemed to tense impossibly tighter, his fingers gripping hard at the back of Will's head, pulling him closer. Fear spiked through Will like small needles as Frederick moaned, a drawn-out and obscene noise the likes of which Will had never heard.
“No.” Frederick’s voice was tinged with urgency and panic. “Will, no.”
Am I crazy? Can this be right? As he watched Frederick contort and twist on the stool, eyes full of pained hunger and want, Will became certain. Frederick, nearly unrecognizable, seemed to struggle against himself as Will made himself inviting, pressing closer and sliding his fingers into Frederick’s hair. He felt as well as heard the wanton groan that tore from within Frederick and rumbled along his throat. It vibrated everywhere, like the hum of electricity, building and growing more intense as Frederick's lips travelled downwards even as he brokenly muttered nononono over and over into Will's goose pimpled flesh.
The hum grew and engulfed them fully, and Will's body was spun taught and expectant until Frederick's lips closed over the wound and it all seemed to end abruptly. The air rushed out of his lungs and pressure pulled him upwards until he realized Frederick was on his feet and lifting him with strong hands gripping his biceps. Pleasure seemed to suddenly alight from where Frederick was keening against his throat, and it extended and buzzed outwards until he was too lethargic to notice as his back slammed into the kitchen door. He distantly heard the rattle of the window against the pane as his head connected.
There were other noises, also distant. Gasping sighs and moans as though everything from Will’s thoughts were being plucked from his brain and deposited all around him. His fingers loosened in Frederick’s hair and eventually fell to the shifting muscles of his hulking shoulders. His eyes fell shut as the pressure faded and Frederick pressed tender open-mouthed kisses to the healing wound. There were solid hands roaming now, pushing and pulling at Will’s clothes with more direct focus. Will heard his own tired moan of pleasure as he tried uselessly to lift his body to the answering hardness he felt insistent against his leg.
He latched onto the eerie two-toned growl of desire that rumbled along his throat before he slipped into the void of unconsciousness, recognizing with fading satisfaction that Frederick’s hands had begun an obscene trail downwards. He felt a brief sense of loss before the darkness curled in around him and his mind went blissfully quiet.
There was a delicate crackling sound that Will recognized as one of Frederick's black cigarettes, and the air smelt like clove. He reached deep within and found the strength to open his eyes, and when his vision cleared, Frederick was pressed to his side, leaning on his elbow and flicking ash out of their open bedroom window.
His skin had a healthy flush, and he was wiped clean of blood, but when his eyes met Will's, they still flashed that strange mossy green as though he was peering at him from behind two dimming lanterns.
"Well." Frederick's voice had a pleasing rumble to it, deep and thick with smoke. He was incredibly composed and beautiful. "That was foolish." He pushed some of Will’s hair back from his face and took a long moment to stare at him. Will’s fingers gripped weakly along his wrist and Frederick turned his hand to link their fingers and kiss softly along Will’s jaw.
His lips were smooth and warm and his words sent shivers of wanton peril through to Will’s toes.
“A little learning is a dangerous thing…” He enunciated, and each deep rumble brought a quiet answering whine from Will, weak.
“Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.” Will gasped as Frederick’s fingers began to drag down the v of his shirt and spread warm over his stomach. Each shuddering gasp and shift of muscle tugged a tender nuzzle from Frederick as he drank Will’s whines from his lips.
“There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, and drinking largely sobers us again.”
“Again…” Will echoed as he slipped into darkness with Frederick’s feral grimace against his throat.