Author's Note: I'm a terrible author, updater and all around procrastinator, Iknow. I'm so deeply sorry. This has been half written for ages, I've just not been up to finishing the chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter and hopefully Ican keep up and write a new chapter sooner than I did this one. Anyone who's still with me after this, thank you for persevering.
William Beckett sat on the rooftop of a 5 storey apartment building that had long since been abandoned. He had watched the fight unfold below and now curiously watching the group of hunters drive off down the road. He tilted his head slightly as their car rounded the corner. It did no good to adjust his view of the car - it still disappeared from sight when it turned a corner - but he could still the low hum of the engine almost as clearly as if they had been closer to his resting place.
He chuckled softly to himself. Pete thought he could take on The Dandies, no less he thought he could escape William Beckett's clutches. Well William had a newsflash for him. No one could escape him, especially not when his want for them was so strong.
Pete/ would/ join his clan of vampires even if it meant taking down everyone who was close to him.
Patrick sat silently at his desk and watched Pete on the floor, scribbling violently in a notebook. Every now and again Pete would tear out a page and crush it into a ball before tossing it haphazardly over his shoulder.
He hadn't turned around to see the enormous pile of paper balls behind him or even said a word to anyone in days. The only noises that had crept past his lips were small whimpers and soft snarls. Patrick even had to replace his notebook when he had torn out all the pages and had started scribbling on the floor.
Patrick got up from his desk as quietly as he could, even though he doubted that Pete would notice the movement even if Patrick had knocked his chair over and stomped towards Pete. He walked up behind Pete and he didn't even turn around to stop him or snap at him when he crouched down and picked up a paper ball.
Patrick fidgeted with the paper ball uncertainly for a few moments before carefully beginning to unravel it. He didn't know whether it would be counted as invading Pete's personal privacy if he read it but he felt like he urgently had to know what was going on inside his friend's head. It had been days since he'd spoken to him at all and watching him sit on the floor, writing so painfully made him miserable to see his best friend in such disarray.
He only wished there had been a way to stop William Beckett from taking him in the first place. Patrick felt like he hadn't done a good enough job as a best friend. He hadn't protected Pete when he needed it most.
When Patrick finally did unravel the paper ball in his hands he was awed by the sight of so many chaotically constructed sentences scrawling across the crinkled page. They were written messily on slopes and curves and in uneven, frantic handwriting.
Patrick read through numerous pages of messy scrawl that were all of erratic sentences, if they could even be called sentences. He reached for another page and as soon as his eyes met the paper his breath caught in his throat.
The entire sheet of paper was filled up with the words '/help me'/.
He immediately dropped the paper to the ground and shuffled closer to Pete so he could reach around him and remove the pen from his grasp.
"Pete." He whispered gently in his friend's ear. "You can stop now."
"No." Pete whispered hoarsely. He licked his dry, chapped lips and found that his tongue ran over his emerging fangs. He hadn't eaten in days. He hadn't even taken the tonic that Patrick had made for him and his hunger was beginning to ache.
"We can help you Pete. We want to help you." Patrick said, his arms were still wrapped around Pete. "There's a priest coming to see you later today. Maybe he can cure you." Patrick said, so hopefully that Pete just wanted to cry from the hurt of knowing that no matter what lengths Patrick went to help cure him it would just never be.
Pete leant forward slightly to rest his head on Patrick's arms, that were still enveloping him tightly and he just sat there silently, feeling Patrick's warm body pressed against his back. He was trying not to let his tears leak and trying not to run his tongue over his razor sharp canines. He was trying to stop the pounding rhythm of Patrick's pulse pumping in his ears and filtering into his head. He shuddered uncontrollably and jerked away from Patrick when he felt himself being taken over by the lust for blood. His best friend's blood.
"Go away Patrick!" Pete tried to shout as he inched away from Patrick.
Patrick just stayed crouched on the floor with a confused and concerned expression on his face. He could see Pete running his tongue over his teeth, his teeth that were now sharp and menacing looking. And for one brief moment he feared that Pete would jump at him and sink his fangs deep into the tender flesh of his neck.
"Pete, please," He whispered softly,"please don't push me away. Things have changed and we both know that but things haven't changed as much as you think." He said soothingly, reaching out to softly stroke Pete's hand.
"Leave before you get hurt." Pete said as warningly as he could manage through his violent shaking and insatiable urge to taste Patrick's lifeblood then and there.
Patrick still looked uncertain but it was very clear that he wasn't going to leave. Finally he inched closer to Pete until he was crouched next to him. Pete's breathing was heavy and warm as it flushed against Patrick's bare skin.
"If you're going to hurt me, then do it."Patrick said defiantly as he bared his neck for Pete to sink his long, sharp fangs into.
But Pete didn't move save for running his tongue along his fangs again.
"I'd never do that to you Patrick. Ican't." He said quietly but now gazing at his neck hungrily out of the corner of his eye.
"Just do it, Pete." Patrick said. It was as if his brain had completely disconnected itself from his mouth and he couldn't stop the words that were tumbling from his lips. Patrick knew he shouldn't be encouraging Pete to bite him but somehow he knew that he wanted to be bitten."Bite me." And for once when he used those words he wasn't being sarcastic in the least.
Pete hesitated only slightly before leaning forward and grasping both of Patrick's wrists tightly and placing his lips on the soft skin of his neck. He could feel Patrick's pulse throbbing underneath his skin and he resisted the urge to completely tear at his neck and release the red liquid. How much he cared for Patrick was the only thing that was stopping his aching hunger from turning him into a ravenous savage /animal/. He didn't want to hurt Patrick.
Patrick could feel Pete's lips resting gently on the side of his neck and then he felt Pete leave a soft, gentle kiss on his skin before all he could feel was a sharp, piercing pain of Pete's two sharp fangs driving deep into his neck. Patrick found himself allowing a sudden gasp to leave his lips before he melted into Pete's mouth.
He could feel his best friend sucking his crimson blood from his veins and he found his head getting light and a slight stirring within him, one that could be construed as pleasure, or lust.
He moaned softly as Pete continued to suck the blood from the puncture wounds in his neck. Then almost as soon as it had begun Patrick felt the strong suction of Pete's mouth leave his neck and he felt his tongue lap at the still seeping wound on his neck before leaving the cuts completely.
Patrick was feeling slightly lightheaded and close to a climax from this simple bite (although he knew it was nothing but) and he felt like he would surely fall from the earth if it wasn't for Pete still gripping him tightly by the wrists.
Pete was now trying to lick the thick red blood from his lips without much avail and although his tongue was focused on the blood on his lips his eyes were intently focused on Patrick.
Patrick was still so dizzy that he hardly noticed Pete's hands when they released his wrists and instead one moved to his upper arm and the other to cup his cheek. Without warning Pete pressed his lips to Patrick's in a desperate, bloodied kiss and Patrick could feel his own metallic blood transfer from Pete's lips onto his own and when Pete slipped his tongue inside his mouth Patrick was overwhelmed by the taste of his own blood being forced into his mouth.
He moaned into Pete's lips and began to return the kiss hungrily. Patrick began to nip gently at Pete's bottom lip and suddenly Pete pulled away sharply but still managing to keep his grip on Patrick to steady him.
"Don't." Pete growled, half breathless and panting. "You can't have vampire's blood without turning yourself."
Patrick still urged forward regardless and his lips grazed Pete's before Pete pushed him away again and held him at arm's length.
"Patrick!" Pete panted incredulously."Don't you understand? You'll /turn/."
Patrick looked at Pete oddly. "I-I.."Patrick mumbled. He was beginning to feel faint and all of the light in the room seemed dimmer. Pete's face seemed blurrier then he could recall and Patrick couldn't seem to form sentences, let alone words to answer Pete with.
He tried fruitlessly to answer him but only found himself fading into unconsciousness before he saw nothing but dark.
Sign up to rate and review this story