[ drabble: closed ]
Valerian hadn’t planned to hunt today. He hadn’t even wanted to leave bed in the first place and the thought of wanting to return to it had haunted him all day. His work alarm blaring through their bedroom had interrupted… throes of marital bliss. Getting there, at least. When he’d slipped from the arm of his husband, it’d been with a kiss at his throat, the squeeze of a lingering hand at the man’s hip, and a promise of tonight.
He’d even planned on following through on that promise- busted through the tasks of his day as quickly as he could and had even satiated his hunger already, meeting up with a human friend for lunch; one of several strange little things that were happy to be fed on. He’d really tried this time. He was going to behave himself so he could get home and misbehave himself there.
Then along came Jacob- intent on seducing Valerian into changing his plans. He’d been at Valerian’s counter for hours over the last two weeks, insistent that they’d have a good time, cranking out as brilliant of pick-up lines as “C’mon, baby.”, and finding excuses for them to touch: bumping into Valerie, a hand finding his wrist once, a shoulder another time, the small of his back. It’d worn him down. Jacob had not noticed Valerian’s hard glares, nor his snarky responses, nor the way he plucked the wandering hands away with a grimace. The douchebag of Valerian’s dreams.
Valerian’s dream of a grand horde, in the hands of someone who knew what to do with it.
He’d killed for lesser offences, the leftovers gathering day-by-day at the bottom of the bayou. So he’d gone home with the douchebag. Jacob lived in an unsurprisingly grimy apartment in the lower ninth ward- and thank whoever for that, Valerian wouldn’t have to take the body far when he was done. It was small, with grey walls and linoleum roll throughout. Valerie was fairly certain the dirty windows were painted shut. It was cold, even to the vampire. A television sat on the floor against one wall with a fabric camping chair a few feet away; a mattress across the room with a few blankets piled atop and no sheets. Jacob -or, John, maybe? -hadn’t taken the garbage out recently and the smell of chicken-rot permeated the apartment, grating at Valerian’s nerves.
Valerian trailed his hands up John’s arms, a sweet smile gracing his features as the fire in his stomach grew. He interrupted John’s babbling, eyes bright, “You said we were gonna have fun together.” He had pulled the yellow tie of his work uniform away from his throat on his way in the door; now, he lifts it to the man’s mouth and encourages him to bite down, nimble fingers tying it at the back of his head tight, gagging him. “This’ll be fun.” He whispered, shoving him toward his bare floor mattress and receiving a muffled moan in response.
He sank into the man’s lap after giving him a moment to right himself, springs pressing uncomfortably into his knees on either side of John’s thighs. He let the cretin paw at him, his own fingers pushing John’s shirt off to expose his bare skin; a blank canvas Valerian intended to cover with color- mostly red, he didn’t think poor John would live long enough to bruise in purples or greens.
Valerian shoved at him again lightly, pushing him down against the mattress with one hand against his chest. “That was really pushy earlier, you know?” He sing-songed, pressing fingers into his skin, a line of raised red skin blossoming where his nails traced, “You know. Pushy over the last few weeks, really. I don’t like pushy.” The next line he traced bit down harder, drawing blood and a hiss through his teeth. Delicious. He did it once more, digging in hard and splitting skin, leaving a long cut along the curve of the man’s ribcage, all the way across, intending to follow it with his tongue. He didn’t have the chance to admire his handwork; the long cut was a step too far for John, a garbled ‘what the hell’ escaping around his gag as he pushed, dumping Valerian from his lap onto the plastic floor.
“What the hell indeed, shitstain. You don’t just drop a man.” Valerian snipped, watching as he grabbed at the torn skin of his chest in a panic, little human heart thundering away below. “I thought we were having fun.” He reached out, clamping his fingers around the man’s ankle and tugging toward himself, pulling him to the ground as he kicked and screamed through gritted teeth. The hard sole of a shoe connected with Valerian’s jaw and he dropped the ankle in his hand with a snarl.
John took the opportunity to scramble to his feet unsteadily, adrenaline racing through his blood; the sharp smell of sweat and fear and rich call of blood superseding the long-ignored garbage. The vampire followed with a sharp-toothed grin. “You’re looking a little faint, dear.” As John tried to find his feet he launched forward, slamming his weight into Valerian, who growled and grabbed one of the man’s arms. Blood sprung up at his fingertips as he dug his nails in. He twisted, bringing John to kneel at his feet, and then pushing further until he felt a pop, tendons tearing under his touch. Pity he couldn’t hear it over the muffled screaming. John was surprisingly loud for a gagged man. Valerie tugged the arm straight again, sinking his teeth into his wrist- a nightcap.
“Your wandering hands betraaay youuu.” Valerian teased, releasing the mangled arm and wiping at his mouth as John- no, Josh- doubled over. He lifted a leg and kicked forward hard, driving the toe of his workboot into his ribs, scraping at the flesh there. “That’s so sad.” He giggled and combed a blood-wet hand through Josh’s mousy hair, using a fistful of it to pull him up again. “You’re a terrible fighter. You know, I’m married to a fighter.” He wrenched the man’s head back, meeting his eyes as he watched him struggle to process, huffing exhausted breath past the now spit and sweat soaked yellow tie in his mouth. Poor Josh was fighting unconsciousness. “Rayaan, my heart, my home, my sunset- oh, I envy the air, pressed to him always. You’d know that if you’d listened to a word I said.” He shook the man’s head by the hair, “He’s lovely, my little sister was sick when she saw his pretty face.” Valerian let out a small sigh- how simple it’d all been. “I’m getting away from myself. My love could have taught you something. He’s very good.”
“Has all your strength left you? You’re shaking like a leaf.” He switched his grip, taking hold of the man’s jaw to turn his head toward one filthy window, free hand gesturing toward the sky, where pink and gold hues started to bloom. Sunset. Shit, he was much later than expected. “Look at that, Josh. You have been a terrible waste of time.” He tsked, fingers squeezing, cutting into the soft flesh of his cheek. “How am I to explain this to my love, huh? Late, and you’re not even interesting.”
Josh or whatever didn’t react with another gasp or hiss or groan, just one ragged breath after another. Valerian sighed. He turned his attention back from the painted hues outside, head tilting with curiosity as he watched the last light fade behind the man’s eyes. “Guess I’ll have to figure it out on my own.” He had no reason not to tell Rayaan the truth. Except, of course, to spare himself the embarrassment of admitting to losing his temper again. He rolled his eyes and stood, releasing his hold on the man’s face and letting it fall. Thump. Dead weight. “And I still have to clean up your mess before I can go home. Mon dieu. Horrible. Horrible man. I’ve done the world a favor this time, I think, you’re quite inconsiderate.”
He continued to ramble at the body as he worked his way through the motions of cleaning up, mopping up the mess with Josh’s sad bedding before rolling him in it; only belatedly realizing that destroying the thing’s arm so thoroughly made it less useful for the bayou. Oops. He would drag it out there anyway and watch it sink before heading home to face his embarrassment.
