• He met you organically (was actually hunting you, fully intending to kill you before he realized you had amazing hair. He wanted to get your stylist’s info before eating you up and thus made contact) and the two of you struck up a friendship. He thought it was so cool how you did your own hair and you were flattered by his interest. You offered him an appointment and from there, he was yours.

• He’s never been late for or missed an appointment. He always shows early and so you schedule yourself to make sure that you’re free about thirty minutes before his appointment officially starts.

• You introduce him to a deep conditioning treatment and life’s never been the same since.

• You also make sure he’s your last appointment of the night because somehow - even if you’re having a bad day and just wanna cry in the shower then sleep - he always manages to convince you to come hang with him. He’ll take you for a night on the boardwalk, for a beer or two, for a late dinner, he’ll shoot the shit with you on the beach. It’s great. He’s not just a customer but a friend.

• Loves flicking through the magazines. Has lots of ideas about styles and occasional cuts but is always happy to just let you be creative. Some days he has a vision of what he wants, others he tells you to have fun and do what you think suits.

• When he’s finished with the hair magazines he’ll pick up a gossip one and read the problem pages to you, snickering through the silliest of stories.

• The hair wash is his favorite part of the whole experience. He’s like a puppy being petted. You actually started draping a warm towel over his eyes because the intensely happy eye contact was wigging you out.

• He always, always tips you really well. He uses Max’s money, too. He doesn’t want you to deal with blood money. Literally and figuratively. Kills get messy and he’d feel terrible if you got caught up in any of it. He likes you and wants to keep you happy!

• He’s kind of nervous that one day you’re going to change your mind about him. He doesn’t understand how he can get so lucky. You’re an amazing person and an amazing stylist AND you’re ok with him being a vampire? He’s so far into ‘too good to be true’ territory that sometimes it scares him.

• He’s introduced you to Marko and David. They both see you now and then. Not as regular as Paul is but they’re definitely counted as regulars. David always goes for wash and style. Never changes what he asks for. Marko’s the same but occasionally asks for something with braids.

• Hasn’t introduced you to Dwayne and has no intention of doing so. Paul thinks he might be falling for you? He really likes you so he’s being careful. He doesn’t want to hurt you or fuck up the amazing friendship the two of you have so he’s taking things slow. Dwayne has amazing hair - which you would appreciate - and amazing looks - which you would have to be blind not to appreciate - and that scares the hell out of Paul. Sorry but no. Dwayne doesn’t exist in your world.

• Has to placate Dwayne when he finds out. ‘Sorry bud, it’s not you, it’s me. Well no, it is you. You’re too good looking. It’s too risky for me’

• Has to placate David and Marko when they realize he doesn’t think their good looks are a threat. A fight almost breaks out when Paul snort laughs at them. As if you’d reject him for David or Marko?! They’re funny. He’s always happy for a laugh.

• Once or twice he’s succeeded in doing your hair. Has to beg and plead but he’s happy as a clam when he’s the one wielding the shampoo and dryer. Once burned your hair trying to crimp it though, so he had some privileges revoked.

“It’s been ten minutes,” Dwayne says, not looking up from where he sits, sharpening a pocket knife. 

“I’m almost finished, okay? Relax. I’ll put the top coat on ‘em and then you just need to make sure not to bump into anything for a little bit.” Paul nods.

“Say ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Paulie,” Marko teases. You clock the cropped, white tank top he’s wearing and he grins. 

Paul leans over the bench he’s straddling and tries to smack Marko. The back of your hand makes contact with his thigh. “Ow!” he whines.

“What did I just say?” 

He settles back down. “Yes, ma’am.”

It doesn’t take you long to wrap up. David’s here now, but you haven’t noticed. He watches from the far edge of the cave as your tongue pokes out in concentration. He swallows down the lump in his throat. You give the same care to Paul’s nails that you do to yours—taking every step to make the polish last. You could’ve done one shitty coat and pleased him, but that just didn’t seem right. The cap squeaks as you twist it closed. 

“Okay, you’re free.”

Paul launches himself upward and presses a wet kiss to your forehead. “Thanks, babe!” He glances down briefly, bounding away still. “Beautiful work!” 

You start cleaning up, putting the polish and nail clippers back into your bag—you’d brought them from home. You feel someone approach you from behind.

“What are you up to?” David asks. 

You swivel your head to look up at him. “Whenever you ask me that, I get the feeling you already know.” He laughs through his nose.

David sits down across from you and leans in. He bites down on the tip of your nose, gently. It makes you laugh and you swat him away. He grabs for your wrists and brings them around the back of his neck, kissing you then, slow and sweet. His lips move leisurely against yours. When he pulls away, you glance toward the gray streams of light coming in through the cave. The sun is setting behind a thick cluster of clouds.

“Where’ve you been?” you ask him, fingers rubbing the top of his spine. 

“Scouting.”

You hum. David looks at you with a question in his eyes. You squint, trying to tell him not to ask it right now. Instead, he asks something else.

“You wanna come out with us tonight? Buy you somethin’ pretty.”

“You mean steal?”

David raises his brows. “You hear that boys? She takes us for a bunch of pilfering criminals.”

Dwayne appears beside you. The tips of his fingers graze your ribs, making you gasp. You never told him you were ticklish there. “Gotta eat the rich to feed the poor, babe.” 

“What’s it gonna be, huh?” David draws your attention back to him. 

You shrug your shoulders up to your ears. “What if I want two pretty things?”

David lifts a gloved hand and removes a cigarette from behind his ear. There’s a candle sitting on the makeshift vanity next to you. He holds the end over the flame to light it. His eyes drag down your form. His thumb traces the base of your jaw. “Nobody’s stoppin’ you from having all the pretty things you want.”

You stand, reveling in the way David’s gaze follows your every movement. He’s now looking up at you; it makes your chest heave with pride. 

“Well, come on then, pretty thing. Let’s go get me some good stuff.”

The only hint you get that your teasing has affected David is the way he grips your thigh after guiding you onto his bike, tugging you as close as possible. Once you get to the strip, he hands you off to Marko, who slings an arm across your shoulders and leads you in the direction of a few stores, all their windows full of neon signs and flashing the shiniest of things at you. Every part of Marko jingles as you walk. It makes you smile. So does being with him. You feel so alive, strolling down the boardwalk. You breathe in the warm breeze, let your fingers twitch along to the music coming from further down the beach. Marko’s arm falls to the small of your back once you’re inside. 

“So, what are we thinking? Sexy dress? Little skirt?”

Something catches your eye almost immediately. Marko follows behind you. You roll your eyes playfully at him. “Something nice.”

“Nice can mean a lot of things, babe,” he says. Both of your hands reach for a skirt at the same time and you burst into giggles. It’s this flowy purple thing, with strips of a shiny, almost silky fabric skating down it between the base layer of cotton. The way the two fabrics lay together makes it look like a jellyfish. You grab for your size and lift it from the rack. Marko takes it and slings it over his arm. 

You walk a few more feet and Marko pushes forward to show you something. “You gotta try this one on. Needs a belt though—I’ll be right back.” His attention span (or lack thereof) gives you whiplash. The dress he’d manhandled sticks out of the rack and you take a moment to look it over. Dark green with loads of sparkly gold suns and moons all over it. Gorgeous, you think. Marko returns with a belt you’d never choose for yourself and a pair of boots. You follow him to the dressing room. 

“You better model ‘em for me!” he calls back.

You come out in the skirt first. He places his fingers in his mouth and whistles. “Marko!” you fuss. 

“What? You look killer. That’s how normal people react.” 

You twist and turn in the mirror, taking it in. It hugs the right places and twirls in the others. It makes you look hypnotizing, in a way. 

“M’kay, we’re getting that one,” Marko says. “Put the dress on and if the boots don’t fit, I’ll grab you another size.”

The boots end up being too roomy, so you wait to examine the whole thing until he’s brought you the smaller pair. You loved the first one, but when you look at yourself in this one, your ears burn. It’s got these little straps that accentuate your collarbones and make your shoulders look strong, yet delicate. 

“The boots were a good touch.” You turn to Marko. He flashes you a mischievous grin. You even like the belt. You’re practically ogling yourself, marveling in Marko’s handiwork. New movement catches your eye and you spin, locking eyes with David. His forearm rests on Marko’s shoulder, who’s looking way too pleased with himself. A toothpick bobs between David’s lips. A smile starts to play on his features. 

“Don’t you look gorgeous,” he says. Your stomach flips, unsure of the appropriate reaction to this attention. You choose to turn back toward the mirror. 

“Which one do you think I should get?” you ask, swallowing hard. 

You catch Marko smiling like he knows something you don’t. 

“You’ll get both,” David says. He takes a few steps closer to you. Marko grabs the skirt from inside the dressing room, snatches the belt from your waist. You shuffle backward and change back into your street clothes. Marko disappears with everything you’d tried on in hand.

David’s thumb brushes the pulse point on your wrist so lightly you think you might have imagined it. “You looked good enough to eat in that dress,” he breathes. 

“Ha. Ha.”

He takes your hand in his and kisses up your exposed forearm. His eyes darken and for a moment you think he might not have meant that comment in the vampire way. He doesn’t let go of you, guiding you back outside where you find the rest of the boys. Dwayne sits on his bike, a cigarette between his index and middle fingers. Paul skips in your direction, hand coming up to play with your earring and then twirl your hair around. “Heard you got a new outfit,” he starts. “Gonna share it with me?”

You snort. He looks so thrilled. “Sure thing. Purple really is your color.” You look down at where he’s fidgeting with a watch you don’t remember him having before. “Can you tell time, Paulie?”

You hear Dwayne laugh. He must’ve surprised himself because he coughs, smoke spiling from his nostrils and clouding around his head. Marko pats him roughly on the back before stealing his cig and taking a puff from it. When he goes to hand it back, Dwayne holds up a hand and makes a face. 

“Can I tell time—yes! I can tell time, you punk,” Paul fusses. 

“Is that new?” you ask him. 

He nods. “Finders keepers, or whatever.” He and Marko lose themselves in a fit of giggles. The realization has your brows shooting up. You turn, looking for David. He stands beside his bike, on the opposite end from Dwayne’s and next to Marko’s. He flicks the top to his lighter open and shut as he scans the beach beyond the end of the boardwalk, clusters of people jumping and scream-singing. You swear the music has gotten louder. Muscle cars rev in the distance and a group of college-aged kids in bathing suits play bocce ball in the sand, despite the darkness. You fall into place next to David, your fingers subconciously reaching for his belt loops and grabbing hold. Something catches your eye when he looks down at you. Something on the underside of his chin, like it had run down from his mouth. 

You use your thumb to swipe at the mark. Still-wet blood shines on your skin. Before you can say anything, or even process the finding enough to form words, David’s gloved hand is taking your wrist. He brings your thumb to his mouth and locks eyes with you. He sucks the blood from your finger, tongue laving over your skin. Fire shoots through you, makes your breath catch and your knees weak. He keeps your thumb in his mouth longer than necessary. 

When he pulls away, there’s a question in his eyes. You nod, just barely. 

The palm of his hand rests on your throat as he kisses you, teeth nipping your bottom lip. His other hand flattens over your spine and pushes, getting you to arch into him. His earring brushes your cheek. All the air is gone from your lungs—you’re sure of it. He’s devouring you. 

Kissing you like he needs it. 

He licks into your mouth and you hear a strangled moan release itself from his throat. It makes you grin and that gets you in trouble, his hand lowering to your ass where it squeezes, grip mean. Something clicks in your mind then, the longer he kisses you. It cements in your brain and you kiss him once more. When you pull back you think he knows, too. 

“Jesus H. Christ, man!” Paul shouts, a hand over his stomach as he howls with laughter. Marko joins in, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Powers,” he quips. Dwayne doesn’t say anything, doesn’t chuckle, but he looks at you like he knows exactly what just happened. Like he knew before you did.

————

It’s your night off. At dusk, you slip your new dress on over your head. You stand in front of your bathroom mirror and figure out a way to situate your hair. At nightfall, you leave in search of him.

You make your way to the boardwalk, pace unhurried. You pass their bikes and drag the tips of your fingers over the handlebars of David’s. You continue to the beach, begin to wade through the sand. It’s cool tonight, and a breeze ruffles the fabric covering your body. It tickles your knees. You inhale deeply, filling your lungs.

You know he’s here. You can feel that he is. You’re unsure of when that connection came to be, but it doesn’t unsettle you. 

Your steps slow. You close your eyes and turn your face up to the moon. One of your hands reaches out from your side, just the slightest bit. When his bare palm slides into yours and his fingers thread between your own, you open your eyes. The feeling of his skin pressed against yours does something magical to your insides. The only word you can draw up that might describe it is ancient. 

“Hi, beautiful,” David says. 

You squeeze his hand and turn to him. You lift up on your toes and kiss him, the press of your lips soft and careful. A grin takes over David’s face—slowly but surely. He chooses not to say anything, not to bat an eye at your gesture. His thumb rubs continuously over the back of your hand. 

“You came to me,” you say. “Because you knew I had something to tell you?”

He bends, leveling his mouth with your ear. 

“Because I’ll always come to you,” he whispers. 

You take his hand in both of yours and bring it up to your chest, placing it over your heart. “You mean that,” you say. It’s a statement. David’s free hand settles on your cheek, his skin soft, touch even softer. He presses his lips to your forehead and lets them linger there. 

“I do.” His voice is still a whisper, for your ears only. 

“Do you already know what it is that I want to tell you?” you ask him. 

He smirks. Of course. “I want you to tell me anyway.”

Your eyes never leave his. Blue irises staring right back at you, patient. 

“I want to be with you,” you say. “I’ve decided to give up sunlight.” 

There’s a moment of silence, and then David smiles at you. A real, big one. He wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes, eveloping you in leather and smoke and a little bit of sugar. “I’ll take care of you,” he says, pulling your face back so that you’re looking at him, so that you feel his words. “I”ll come whenever you call. Give you as much or as little as you want.”

You begin to walk again, though back in the direction of the boardwalk. Someone’s dog runs up to you, a full-grown husky, and you crouch, letting his wet nose run over your chin, your hands scratching behind his ears. A whistle draws him away but the brilliant smile he brought to your face stays. David, a few steps behind you, fights to swallow down the lump that’s formed in his throat. Something burns in his chest. It reminds him of when he was new to this, when he kept learning new things against his will. It burned. But the feeling doesn’t scare him this time. 

“Do the boys know, too?” you ask him. David just smiles. 

————

You’re holding the bottle in your hand. “If I’ve had, say, a decades—maybe a decade and a half—worth of periods, this should be a breeze,” you joke. Dwayne chuckles, impressed, but Marko and Paul look at you with a little fear in their eyes. 

“It’s not so bad,” Dwayne says. “Paul had it rough, but, y’know.” His tone soothes your nerves, effortless as it may be. 

“Heard that, dick!” Paul shouts, playing cards with Marko at the far side of the cave. 

You turn to look at David, focusing on his eyes. They look gray tonight. He takes your hand, grip gentle but firm. Steady. You bring the bottle to your lips and drink. You know they could be making a show out of this, could be cheering and dancing and causing a raucous. You didn’t ask them not to; they made the choice on their own. Something tells you it’ll come later. You swallow, and maybe you were expecting a frightening sensation to take over you, but really it’s just gradual. It feels both cold and warm, which shouldn’t make sense, but it does. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just a change. There’s a flutter in the pit of your stomach, similar to how you feel before you do something you’ve been looking forward to. Giddiness?

“You kinda taste like shit, David,” you laugh, throwing your head back to take another sip. David takes the bottle.

“Alright,” he chuckles, “that’s enough for you.” 

After a while, you notice that the other boys have disappeared, leaving David and you in silence. 

You lean over and rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m gonna have to bite people's heads off, aren’t I?” You’re whispering. 

David laughs through his nose. “You don’t have to. I can do it for you—give you an arm or somethin’ to chew on.” 

When you lift your head from his shoulder, he’s smiling at you. You smile back. “But when it comes time for you to feed, it’ll be easier.” You nod. “Dwayne can spot a deserving asshole from a mile away. If that’s what you were worried about.”

Your expression turns softer. “I didn’t think you just ate anyone, you know. But that helps.”

His thumb brushes your jaw. He still wears his gloves around you, but at some point he began to remove them if he planned to touch you. 

“Good.”

Your eyes refuse to leave his face. They travel up and down, side to side—memorizing. There’s a tiny scar on his forehead, tinier creases at the corners of his eyes. You slide your index finger down his nose, grinning at the way it tilts up at the end. You can’t help it. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, nose scrunching when your nails drag behind his ears. He must be ticklish there. 

“You told me that no one was stopping me from havin’ all the pretty things I want.” He raises a brow. You grab him by the collar. 

“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever wanted.” 

David blushes. You push up on your knees and move to straddle him. His hands are quick to find your hips and help, like he’s eager for you. Like he’d been waiting for you. For how long? you wonder, the thought a flicker of emotion. 

You settle on his lap and cup his face in your hands. His slide to rest on your ass, grip gentler than you think he wants to be with you. 

“You’re so pretty, David.”

When you lean down to kiss him, he sighs into your mouth. He lets you lead, but the rest of him gets greedy. One of his arms snakes around your back, holding you to him, locking your hips snug against his. The metal of his bracelet cools your burning skin through the thin fabric of your dress. He lets you slide his coat off his shoulders. Even one less layer of armor on him makes it easier to breathe. 

His hand slides up to rest on your throat. You let your head fall back and breathe out a moan. His mouth attacks your collarbones, kisses morphing into languid licks and drags of teeth against delicate skin. His grip on your neck is firm, commanding. Possessive. At some point his hand travels to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, and he begins manipulating the angle of your head that way. His lips travel down to your exposed shoulders, across your chest, skating over the top most part of your sternum.

“David…”

He looks up at you and his eyes flash amber. He hears the way your heart jumps and thinks for a second he might’ve scared you, but then your hips rock down against his and he groans. A sinful smile graces your lips. 

“Fuckin’ terror,” he mumbles, though you can feel him grinning where his face rests against your chest. 

You giggle, a little maniacally, and then David’s picking you up off his lap and carrying you to one of the lesser-worn mattresses they brought home at some point or another. His hands slip under your long dress and drag all the way up your legs—calves, knees, thighs. He touches you like you’re the only thing he was ever meant to touch. Like he’s leaving prints behind. 

He stops when he’s just below your panties, palms staying below the bunched fabric. He kisses you once, hard, stealing the breath from your lungs. He bites your bottom lip, drawing the smallest bit of blood. The moment his hands leave your body, you sit up and open your eyes.

He extinguished all the light. 

“David,” you shout, “if you scare me, I’ll beat your ass! The second I get all these vampire powers and shit, you won’t—” 

David has whooshed by and snatched you up, thrown you over his shoulder. There’s no better way to describe it. He takes you up to the top of the cave, laughing at your mix of shrieking and giggling. 

“What was it you were saying?” he challenges, voice carrying over wind. 

You’re hovering above the ocean now, right where sand meets salty water. He holds you to his chest and despite the way your heart is pounding, you know he won’t drop you. You try to catch your breath, a dazed look on your face.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Are you taking advantage of my weak, human nature before I turn and inevitably become more powerful than you?”

“Yes,” David responds. His features shift and he’s showing you the other side of himself. You still think he’s just as beautiful. When you smile at him, his eyes sink back to blue, but his fangs stay long enough to drag over the skin of your neck. You kiss him, pressing your overwhelming infatuation into his lips. It feels like your mouths were made for each other. Your entire bodies do. 

He hooks one of your legs over his hip and gets you both a little higher in the sky. You’re quiet when he turns so that you face the boardwalk, hovering far above the lights bright and flickering, thumping music. 

You watch people move in waves, dancing, pushing into stores, fighting for a parking spot. You can see so much of Santa Carla from here. Probably more than you ever would’ve seen. 

“This,” David says, “is all ours. Whatever you want, you can have. I’ll make sure of it.”

You glance up at him. “I know. But I don’t want for much.”

The corner of his lips tick up. “No? Just my eternal devotion?”

“That’s a given. Now, take me home, gorgeous.”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

And maybe there’s a part of you that thrives on the setting sun because of what it means. 

Visitors. 

You’re pretty sure they don’t come to the store unless it’s one of the nights you’re working. A while back, you worked a shift with Max, a rare occasion in and of itself, and the boys came in, immediately getting into it with him. You’d tried to mind your own business, but it was clear Max didn’t want them in his establishment. It sounded to you like they came looking for trouble with him, like they had some vendetta against him. They seem to have given that up as of late. 

The idea that they come in now just to see you makes you warm all over, though it probably shouldn’t. It probably shouldn’t excite you that much—the prospect of them visiting you. Of him visiting you. If even one of them appears, it means he’s nearby. You’ve got a soft spot for all four of them, but it’s David that invades your thoughts at night. David that makes your stomach flip with a single look.

The sound of static interrupts your thoughts. The tape playing over the shop tvs has run out. You set it to rewind while you look for something else to pop in. When you got hired, Max emphasized the importance of always having a movie on. He even has a curated list of what to play and when. Something about outreach, or whatever. You’ve chosen not to question him. Frankly, you don’t feel the most comfortable around him, but his shifts tend to start when yours end, keeping your interactions to a minimum. 

The boys are silent when they come in. Somehow their boots don’t make any noise and their smiles never morph into full blown laughs. But the air shifts, like they’ve been carried in on an unnatural breeze. You wonder if anyone else feels the change, or if it’s just for you. 

A flurry of curly hair works its way into your line of sight. 

“Hi, Marko,” you say. 

He sets his elbows on the counter and grins, flashing his teeth at you. “Hey, gorgeous.” 

You mirror his stance and smile back. He doesn’t say anything more, leaving the both of you to stare at each other. This seems to please him. You notice how pink his cheeks get when he’s happy. He’s like a kid in a candy shop–no matter where he is. 

You scoot the jar of lollipops towards him. “I used to think you came in here to see me, but maybe it’s just for the free sugar.”

“Oh, I’ll give you some free sugar.” Paul presses his lips to the crown of your head, making you laugh. Marko puts a green sucker in his mouth. Paul practically throws himself across the counter, bare stomach to the glass, and rips a piece of paper from where it was taped up by your hip. You guffaw. His eyes crinkle as he scans the sheet. 

“You get off at 9:30? Good, you can come out with us then.”

You roll your eyes. Paul tries to steal you away every time he visits (so, multiple times a week). You’d let him if you didn’t still have all your morals intact–he’s too cute for his own good. Truth be told, you’re kind of afraid of the trouble he’d undoubtedly get you into.

Dwayne materializes. “You know she won’t,” he says to Paul. He blows a bubble with his gum and pops it. He jerks the paper out of Paul’s hand and gives it back to you, a dark chunk of hair falling over his face so that it’s cupping his cheek. “Been dealing with assholes like you all day.” He shoots you a wink.

A boy, probably no older than eleven, walks up to the checkout desk, peering up at you hesitantly. Dwayne grabs the shoulders of his friends and pulls them away. You notice though that he keeps his dark eyes on you, surveilling. You give the kid a friendly smile as you scan his tape and enter his information into the computer. He yaps about how many phone numbers he has memorized and then rattles off about how he’s gonna have a killer sleepover with his friends and watch this movie and none of them will get scared at all. He’s sweet. You pass him a few stickers before he heads out. 

The boys are wandering throughout the store now, two of them looking for an adult section no doubt. You save the kid’s profile in the system and close the cash register with your hip. You gaze back up. Dwayne juts his chin out to the side, signaling, and you catch platinum blonde in your peripheral vision. 

“Hi, David.” 

He doesn’t say anything, only walks until he’s standing directly in front of you, gaze intent. You take a moment to look him over. His gloved hands rest on the counter in the space between the two of you. He’s the kind of pretty that feels wrong to admire for too long. But that makes you want to even more. There’s a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and you can see a sliver of metal where a necklace rests under the layers of his clothing. His lips are flushed a dark pink. 

He smirks at you now. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it’s not nice to stare?” 

You’re one to talk, you think. He arches a brow. He heard that.

You keep looking at him, waiting to see where the rest of this conversation goes. He’s much less talkative than the rest of his posse, but you’re unsure as to whether that’s always the case. Behind him, Marko and Paul are giggling like this interaction is the highlight of their night. David’s mouth keeps opening just slightly, like he’s about to say something but is psyching himself out.

He licks his lips and the grabs for the cigarette behind his ear, twirling it between his fingers. Is he nervous? 

“You, uh, you got plans after this?” 

Oh, he’s so nervous. 

You look at your watch and smile. “Well, I’ll probably go home and get in bed, maybe find something to eat…why, did you have something else in mind, David?”

A hand comes over David’s shoulder and he might as well have flinched. Marko is bouncing with excitement. “What’re we talking about over here, kids?” He looks back and forth between you both and bites his lip, clearly containing a cackle. Marko sees David’s hand form a fist, but it’s fine–he knows David won’t beat his ass in front of a pretty girl. At least not right now. 

You grin at Marko and David’s nostrils flare. “I think David wants me to come out with you guys.” 

“Oh, so you’ll come out if he asks but not me?” Paul chimes in, accusatory. “That’s cold. Ice fuckin’ cold, babe.” He crosses his arms and pouts. You scrunch your nose at him and the pout disappears.

“Technically,” you start, “he hasn’t asked me anything yet. I think it’s because you guys won’t stop fucking with him.”

That makes Dwayne chuckle and suddenly your ego has grown two sizes. You’ve never had the privilege of making Mr. Broody laugh. When you look back at David, you can tell that’s pissed him off. Something he emanates must tell the other boys to back away, because they do. You watch Dwayne walk slowly out to his bike, smirking at you when he straddles the seat. 

“You don’t work until late tomorrow,” David states. His eyes flick to your watch and back to you. “Your shift ended four minutes ago. Come out with us. It’s not like I’m gonna kidnap you.”

“We might!” Marko and Paul shout.

You smile at David and it does strange things to his insides. Ah, you think. Nothing like an asshole friend group to sober a man up. 

You step out from behind the counter and offer David your hand. He takes it in his gloved one and tugs you outside. “It was about time you guys left anyway,” you say. “Max has your pictures in the breakroom with ‘BANNED’ written in red ink. Probably would’ve busted your asses if he’d seen you.”

Marko’s head whips toward you from where he’s perched on his bike. “Wait, seriously?” You just grin at him. 

“No, you fuckin’ moron,” Paul whines, “she’s yankin’ your chain. Ever hear of a joke?” Their bickering is drowned out when David’s eyes lock on yours and he sets a hand on your waist, encouraging you to hop on the motorcycle behind him. 

“Watch your step,” he mutters. Something in his tone warms your face and the smug look on his face says he knows. You brace yourself on his shoulders and straddle the bike, snaking your hands around the front of him until they’re settled on his stomach. You’ve had your hands on him for literal seconds and you know then that’ll you’ll probably never get enough of him, no matter where this goes. 

You tilt your head just so, aligning yourself with his line of sight. Your noses are inches from each other. Looking at him so closely makes you falter. His eyelashes are so long and he’s got a cupids bow that you’re dying to kiss. A spark of anger flashes in your chest, like he’s so perfect that it makes you upset. “You always let them get to you so easily?” you ask after a moment. 

He huffs a laugh. “Not usually.” He straightens and starts the bike. “You’re just too damn pretty. It’s fuckin’ with me.”

Those are the words he leaves you with as the noise accompanying the boardwalk drifts away from your ears. You have no idea where you’re going, but your veins bubble with joy. This is another experience that should probably be unsettling you. You turn your head to either side of where you and David are sandwiched between the rest of the boys. Marko smiles so wide. Paul gives you a familiar look, like this is something he knew you’d be a part of at some point. Dwayne has this grin on his face that communicates how you’re feeling, like this is fucking wild, but it’s wild and wonderful. As for David, each time you grip his coat a little harder, you can feel his shoulders shake with laughter. 

The group reaches a particularly sandy part of the journey and you press your nose to David’s back, shielding yourself. He leans back slightly, straightening his spine protectively. Your chest squeezes when you notice that, at some point, you closed the space between the two of you. Not that there was much to begin with–you are on a motorcycle–but now your inner thighs are pressed to the backs of his, and there’s not a centimeter of torso that isn’t connected. You like touching him.

You’ve reached a stretch of land that’s totally dark, which makes it feel miles away from civilization. That doesn’t last long, splotches of orange and red appearing–bonfires scattered all along the beach. Music comes from somewhere, screeching from somewhere else. 

David helps you off the bike, holding a hand out in case you need to be steadied. He gets off, but he stays resting against it. You watch as he pulls out a cigarette, the flame dancing between you both for just a moment before the lighter shuts with a clink. 

You look around. “Where’d the boys go?” you ask, a hint of confusion in your voice. “You didn’t bring me out here to eat me, did you?”

David smirks. “Do I seem like the type?”

“It’s hard to tell. Probably depends on what kind of mood you’re in.”

Smoke trails out of his nostrils and your low belly warms. His gaze leaves your face and stops somewhere over your shoulder. You see the two blondes off in the sand, well out of earshot. “Marko’s been trying to catch a crab. Thinks he needs a pet.”

That statement, paired with the way David deadpans it, makes you laugh. The sound gets a genuine smile out of him. Somehow it changes everything. 

“And Dwayne…” he continues, “he’s been hungry all night. Probably split.”

You choose not to respond to that. David is shrouded in orange light. It makes his teeth shine, his eyes glint. It makes you think he’s not made to be seen by the sun–not when the night hugs him like it does. Your eyes are glued to where the cigarette sits between his lips. You know he sees it. You don’t care. If it were possible, you’d drink him.

“It’s easier to flirt with you when they’re not around.” 

He exhales and the smoke blows around you. His hand reaches out, pulling at your hip to get you closer. 

“They just point out how fun you are to tease.” 

His fingers slide through your belt loops. “I’m glad you enjoy handing me my ass.” You let out a sound that he takes as a laugh. 

“Do you ever take those gloves off, David?”

If your question phases him, his face doesn’t show it. “Sometimes.” His cig is almost finished.

“I mean, I get it as part of the look and everything, or if it’s a motorcycle thing…but they kinda suck.”

He smiles at you around his cigarette. Your gaze remains on his hand when he drags it away, resting his forearm across the handlebars and flicking the last bit of ash from the tip. “They suck, huh?”

“Can’t blame a girl for wanting to hold hands, can you?”

David removes his hand from your hip and sticks it out in front of you, palm up. He flicks the cigarette butt off to the side and gives you his full attention. His legs part, beckoning you closer. Your heart rate kicks up just a little before you pull at the leather covering the tips of his fingers. The gloves are nice–snug where they should be, worn where he’s gripped countless things. You work one off and discover they’ve got a real soft lining too. Not exactly suede, but something like it. He sets the pair in his lap after you’ve removed both of them. His hands are pretty. Well cared for. Something cracks through you, like him having given you his hands so easily is significant. You drag your thumbs lightly over his knuckles. Your insides melt. 

“What’s that look for?” David asks. You hadn’t realized you were smiling. 

“Just glad I came out with you guys tonight.”

He scoffs, but it’s not mean. “Only took me a century to ask you.”

“Do I make you nervous?” you ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Fuck’s sake. Started to think you might like Paul more.”

That makes you chuckle. “He’s sweet. Real cute, too.”

“Oh, thanks then. Means a lot.”

“I’m just kidding! He is sweet. You’re…different. Like cocky in a way that it makes me want to beat your ass and then kiss you right after.” David’s face is blank. He might be recalculating. You give him a minute.

“See, it’s unfair because I’m not usually so bad at this.”

“At flirting?” He makes an expression that is equivalent to drawing a face that has straight lines for its eyes and mouth. “And why do you think that is? That you’re suddenly such a shit flirt?”

David inhales and stands up. His chest brushes yours and he towers over you. It should be scary. Instead it makes something stir from deep inside you. 

“Because I don’t wanna eat you.”

You blink. “...Bummer?”

David brings his hand to cup your cheek and rather than flinching, you lean into his touch. His eyes are alight, more intense than you’ve seen. His thumb rests at the corner of your mouth.

“I wanna keep you around.”

“This is so romantic.”

David tosses his head back, spine bowing away from you. He misses the way you look at him, with this glint in your eye–part a reflection from the various campfires, part pure wonder. When he returns to you, there’s a light blush blooming on his cheeks. You take the hand that’s resting on your face and sandwich it between your palms. You flip it over and drag your thumb over one of the lines there.  “Interesting. It says here that you should kiss me.”

“Oh, does it?”

You look back up at him. At the little smirk pulling the corner of his mouth up. 

“See, now that’s some good flirting, David. I knew you had it in you–,” you use your pointer finger and poke lightly at his chest, “–somewhere deep in there. You know for a man with such a bad boy rep–”

David’s mouth is on yours. He kisses how you expected: rough, like he can’t get enough of you and his only choice is to swallow you whole. He cups your head with his hand, fingers splayed across your scalp so that he can manipulate you however he wants. He shifts you this way and that, nips your bottom lip, uses his tongue to pry your mouth open but nothing more. Your eyes are still shut when he pops his open, wanting to see the pout on your face when he denies you that. His other hand rests at the small of your back and he digs his blunt nails into your skin just enough to get you to squeak. One of your palms slides up and over his throat, where it stays. He grabs hold of your wrist and presses his thumb to your pulse point. When he finally lets you breathe, he moves his mouth there, dragging his teeth over the veins in your arm. The air catches in your chest.

David walks you back against his motorcycle, coaxing you onto it. His chest is heaving.

“I’m gonna take you home now.”

You open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it.

“And I’ll come get you tomorrow.”

————

There’s a shout of your name and Paul lunges for you, arms wrapping around your thighs. He spins you around and around, his blonde hair whipping you in the face. When he sets you down on the ledge around the collapsed fountain, you’re dizzy. 

“Jesus.” Dwayne’s voice comes from somewhere to your right. He looks at you with a gentle little smile on his face and helps you down. He turns to speak to Paul, though his hand remains on your hip in case you stumble. “Take it easy, man.” Dwayne lifts his fingers and flicks you gently on the nose. 

“Yeah, man, take it easy. It’s like she’s human or something,” Marko says, thumbnail tucked between his teeth. You grin at him and he blushes. You walk the few steps to him and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, swaying you both side to side. 

“It’s okay,” you respond. “I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

“You smell so good,” Paul says. “Like candy or somethin’.” Dwayne’s brows knit together as he gives Paul a look. 

“The rest of it’s in my bag,” you tell him, pointing to where David had set it down when you’d come in.

You swivel, eyes locking on David where he’s now sitting in a busted wheelchair, one leg thrown over the arm rest. You’d gone outside to meet him and his incessant revving. David had taken your jaw in his hand and kissed you fiercely. Somehow he knew what you were going to say. Too good for hello? One shake of his head had stopped you, a laugh on your lips. You hadn’t questioned where the boys were or where he was taking you. You’d gotten on his bike and trusted he’d take care of you. Now, the look on his face has you stumped. You find a place to sit near him. 

“Boys.” David’s voice garners their attention and three heads turn your way. They all have the same kind of look on their faces as David does. You don’t know what it means, but it’s clear they have a mutual understanding. You get that feeling again, like you should be scared. 

David’s hand stretches out toward an ornate looking bottle. Red glass peeking through interlocking rows and columns of metalwork and jewels. He rests his fingers on it but doesn’t pick it up. 

“I get the suspicion the four of you are up to no good.”

Paul snorts. “No way!”

Your gaze stays locked on David. You raise your brows, a silent warning. Let me have it. 

He says your name, once. Softly. “I meant it when I said I want to keep you around. I want you to be one of us. We want you to be one of us.”

You blink at him. Swallow a few times. “You wanna turn me into a vampire?”

“It’ll be fun,” Marko says. He drags out the words and adds a sing-song lilt to them. “We’ll keep you entertained. Won’t we Paul?”

“Sure will.” You glance at Dwayne and he nods, once. His eyes are dark and stern, giving you no room to doubt them.

David stands up then. He sets his hand on your cheek and the bottle next to you. You hadn’t noticed him pick it up. “You know I’ll take good care of you,” he whispers. “Help you learn the ropes. You’d never have to worry about anything ever again.” 

When David talks to you like this, you’re still aware of the other boys’ presence, but it’s like they occupy themselves with other things, like they shift away and it becomes this intimate moment between the two of you. It’s like if something changed and they needed to be gone, they would be. But they linger, patient.

David’s thumb swipes over your bottom lip. He doesn’t have to say it. You know that you’re his.

“You and me?” you ask anyway, voice quiet. 

He crouches in front of you, coaxing you forward until your foreheads touch. “Me and you.”

A spark of energy shotos down your spine at the prospect of being with him all the time, forever and ever. A grin stretches across your face. There’s no way to describe it other than mischievous. You set a hand on the side of David’s throat.

“I’ll think about it.”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!