pixiesweat | eric

eric

Manuel hadn't consciously been putting off going back to Eric. Usually, he wouldn't have waited so long to give someone something he thought he owed them, but he didn't know how to approach the vampire, and he was sure Eric would be angry with him if he went about it the wrong way. He didn't seem like someone who would appreciate being bothered.

Manuel was afraid to go. He was afraid that if he did, he'd go about it all wrong. But he was more afraid of what might happen if he didn't go back at all.

So one night, he headed out towards the Blood Diamond, his heart climbing further into his throat the whole way. He didn't dare turn back. He stopped a short distance away, in front of the neighbouring building, not sure if he should go any further. Would Eric want him hanging around his bar? He didn't know him well enough to be able to tell. So he stayed where he was, nervous, awkward, trying not to look aimless as he stood in the street and did nothing.

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Eric was busy inside the bar, when one of his security staff told him about the boy who smelled so good loitering outside, the one Eric had claimed as his. "Bring him to me," Eric told him.

So it was that a large, impressive vampire walked over to Manuel and told him, "Mr Northman wants to see you."

This was even more intimidating than it would have been if Eric had approached him himself.

He swallowed nervously. "Okay."

The club was as loud and packed as last time, but this time, Manuel was not led to the same VIP lounge upstairs. Instead, he was led down a flight of stairs and shown into Eric's office. Eric closed the laptop he had been working on, and dismissed the bouncer with a simple, "Thank you," as he stood up.

"I didn't know if you'd be back," he remarked once the other vampire had left, closing the door.

"I..." He didn't know how to answer that. "I was going to come back. I was just... I'm sorry."

He was afraid Eric might be upset with him for not coming back sooner.

Eric walked around his desk and leaned back against it, watching the boy evenly. "What kept you away?" That was a first question, and there was no anger or accusation in his tone. It was a very factual question.

"Uh," he said. "I was..."

He wasn't going to just admit that he'd been afraid to come, and he couldn't think of an excuse.

Eric pushed off the desk, hands in his pockets as he stepped closer to Manuel. His body language was everything but threatening, but he was an imposing man, and he looked down to meet Manuel's gaze. "What kept you away, Manuel?"

"I was just... I mean... I was distracted," he said, grasping at the first excuse that came into his head, pathetic as it was.

"By...?" Eric prodded, a small smile on his lips, still standing a little too close to Manuel.

"Things. You know," he said, lamely.

Still holding the boy's gaze, Eric pulled his mind into his. "Tell me."

Having to glamour him all the time would get tedious; hopefully he would learn.

"I was scared," he said.

"Of what?" Eric pressed.

"You," he answered, simply.

Eric smiled at the answer, although that was hardly a surprise. Most of anyone with a decent survival instinct ought to be scared of him. But he wanted to know more about Manuel's fear of him, where it came from and how it worked. "What about me? Tell me everything you're afraid of, exactly."

"You could hurt me if you get mad," he said. He was completely unaware of the fact he was projecting his feelings about his former abuser onto Eric. In his mind it was just the way the whole world worked.

Eric could hurt Manuel without getting mad, but he did not think that making that point out loud would bring anything good. He released the boy's mind, for now. "A lot of people could. Why did you end up coming back?"

"You said you would protect me," Manuel answered. Though really, he wasn't here because he wanted Eric's protection. He was here because they'd made a deal, and he knew you couldn't back out of a deal without consequences.

"Do you need protection?" Not in general, but right now, in particular, to suddenly come back.

Manuel didn't quite understand what he meant, though.

"You said that I would," he replied, uncertainly.

"I mean, why come back now?" Eric specified, as patiently as he could.

"I was supposed to come back," Manuel said. The deal, after all, had been blood in exchange for protection.

Were all changelings simpletons, or simply this one? Eric clicked out his fangs. "Ready to honor your part of the deal, then?"

"Yes," Manuel answered, trying to not seem scared.

His fear was obvious all the same, in the dilation of his pupils and his elevated heartrate. Eric did not glamour him this time. He put his hand on one side of his neck, his thumb on his chin, and tilted his head to the side, his other hand holding the boy's waist as his fangs pierced the skin, and that precious blood flowed into his mouth.

He'd missed the taste of him.

Manuel was completely passive, standing still and letting Eric grab hold of him. He stayed as quiet as he could, only taking a sharp breath when Eric bit into his neck. He was trying to be good.

He wasn't fighting it, but at least he tasted scared, and laced with the oh so special flavor of his blood, it was already a fucking treat. Eric drank for a long few seconds, savoring the warm blood, then straightened up and licked his lips, his smile bloody and even more dangerous than usual, with his fangs still out. "Want to heal?" he asked, and pierced his thumb on one of his fangs to hold it out to Manuel in offering.

Manuel had to fight the urge to clap a hand over the wound in his neck. It was a brief moment before he answered.

"Yes," he said, not because he did, but because he thought it was what Eric wanted to hear.

He didn't make any move to take it, though.

Eric thought very little of it, and brought his thumb closer, stopping just short of touching Manuel's lips. "Open your mouth."

Manuel, naturally, did as he was told.

Eric pushed his thumb inside his mouth, sliding the pad of his thumb over his tongue to smear the blood there, holding the boy's gaze as he did so. Difficult as he was to get talking, there was no need for a glamour to get him to do anything, it seemed. "You can crash on the couch, if you need," he stated after pulling his hand back, wiping his thumb on his black jeans.

While his blood took effect, he meant.

It was taking effect, all right. Manuel could feel his fear melting away. He didn’t answer, just stood and stared at nothing as the sensation took him over.

Eric watched the boy for a few seconds, considered draining him and being done with it (he was without protection, after all), but he would rather have a string of excellent meals than one fantastic feast. So he simply moved back to his desk and went back to all that fucking administrative paperwork.

After a moment watching Eric in apparent wonder and fascination, Manuel headed over to the offered couch and sprawled out, utterly relaxed and content.

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