When the end isn't the end

It was funny. They had all wanted to believe, so very badly that it would end with the death of the head vampire. Michael looked at Star, down at Laddie and kept his mouth closed, knowing that they knew it as well. The joyous celebrations were for just the humans in the household. When he dragged David’s body outside, while the others cleaned up inside, the vampire’s eyes had flicked open, staring at him as the cleanly edged razor sharp smile had stretched over his face. Because wood wasn’t horn, and horns weren’t real stakes.

“You thought that was it? Oh no, Michael. We’ve only just begun.”

Michael let the other go, leaping into the night air before dawn’s light crept over the horizon and going inside to hide himself. Star’s worried dark eyes watching him with a faint sense of betrayal in them, Laddie not really understanding. After all, he was just a kid. Just a kid, even if he was a vampire. Reminded him of a fifty cent vampire novel he’d picked out of the bargain bin. Vampire Junction. Timmy Valentine. The boy who was a vampire who was a Jungian archetype, the animus eternally fruitless and crammed into an pre-pubescent shell, the darkness in our minds taken shape. A visible. Real. Shape. Little teeny bopper vampire and Michael didn’t know why it was so hard now. To just be human again.

Laddie and Star vanished quickly, Star saying she would take the boy to his parents. Michael knew she wouldn’t. She’d take him back to the Lost Cave, the jingle jangle of abandoned and broken things hanging from the roof and scrapments of fabric bunched up on couches. He watched the Frog brothers, if they really were brothers which he sincerely doubted, act big. Like they hadn’t screamed like children when the bogey man leapt out from the closet. He knew they had barely been able to save themselves, let alone anyone else. There was a look in their eyes. That they hadn’t even managed to do that. He could barely smell it, under the scent of gore that covered their bodies, a faint acrid reek of urine. One of them, probably both, had pissed their pants. Soon, they were gone, leaving him and Sammy and Mom and Grandpa to clean up the last wreckage.

David came haunting that night, quicksilver fingers taptapping at the window pane and whispering through his mind.

“Michael…”

Go away, David. Michael buried his head under his pillow and pretended not to hear, not to feel the dragging pull in his blood. The hold David had on him, and no one else ever had. Not Star. Not Sammy. Not Mom. Not nobody else, ever. Just please leave me alone. I don’t want to be what you made me. I never did.

Walking dead through the days, sunglasses on his face. Meeting Sammy’s quizzical glances with shrugs. When finally confronted snapping, “I decided I liked the look, ok? I don’t need them, I just like them.” The collar tag earring hung freely from one ear still. Leather jacket warm around his cold body, as he reached up to stroke the brass circle of metal. No one ever looked close enough to see what it actually said. ‘Lost Boy. Property of David. Return to Lost Cave if found.’

He wondered if David had come across Star and Laddie, curled up around each other like puppies or kittens come in from the rain. Had he left them be, or were they really dead now? He was unsure as to what David might have done. And he heard the scrape on the window pane and on his mind.

“Michaellll…”

Irresistibly drawn, a few weeks later to the Lost Cave. The shoddy splendour of the place glinting in the light of a fire in a barrel. Just like the first time he’d come down here.

“Star? Laddie?” Finally, when there was no answer except the sigh of wind through beads and bone. “David?”

“Took you long enough.” Hard hands on his shoulders now, shaking him gently in contrast to the steely fingers digging into him. “Why, Michael?”

“I couldn’t kill Sammy.”

“Oh, tsk, tsk. I wasn’t going to make you.”

“But Max-“

“Isn’t here anymore. And you’re still a vampire. Just like me. And we can do whatever we want.” Those dangerous eyes gleaming at him before a mouth was sealed to his and oh god, it’s nothing like the kisses he’s had before. It’s hard and demanding and David’s tongue is invading his mouth, swallowing a half gasped curse or moan or something, Michael’s not sure what. Nothing like the sickening sweet kisses he’d traded with a girl at some fair back in Phoenix. Adolescent hands sticky with cotton candy and mouths painted with sugar. Nothing like the heated rush with Star, her mouth soft under his and sighing faintly. David’s beard rasped over his skin, and he wasn’t the taker in this situation, he was the taken. And god, he shouldn’t be liking this as much as he did, he should be fighting it but oh god, he can’t he can’t not when David’s hand is on the front of his pants and squeezing gently. “Whatever we want.”

“I, I…”

“If I’d known that this was what it would take to get you to stop being such a fucking smart ass, I might have tried it sooner.” Cruelly amused smile dancing before Michael’s eyes, much like it had always been. Because that was David. Pushed down onto a heap of fabrics and yes, finally, some movement towards where Michael was pretty sure it was going, afraid, deathly afraid and eager all at once to get to it. David leant back to strip off his shirt and then back down again, face inhuman and fangs glinting cruelly. “We are vampires, you know. If you read Anne fucking Rice, you’d know this was pretty much standard play.”

“I feel like a fourth wall is breaking down…”

“Don’t get existentialist on me, Mikey. It’s just fucking.” Hands on his belt and he’s arching up to help the hands get them off and David’s grinning, the fucking prick.

“You’re such a dick.”

“Well, yeah. So?” Pushing the leather jacket off Michael’s shoulders and throwing it onto the floor.

“Hey! That cost me a lot of money!”

“Shut up.” David leaned forward and tugged gently on the earring in Michael’s ear with his teeth, hands sliding across his chest and holy fucking god! Pinching his nipples hard and somehow that just made so much sense to his cock that Michael moaned loudly, hips thrusting up in search of friction. There was a moment of displaced time and suddenly it was skin against skin, rather then denim against denim. Much more satisfying, Michael decided, throwing his head back against the brightly coloured fabric he was laying on while David lay on top of him and ground against him in a sultry movement. “Good boy.”

“God you are *such* a prick…” Michael’s eyes widened almost comically as David slid a finger into him, blood wet fangs laughing above his face as Michael bucked and yelled, the finger nudging against something inside him that made fireworks go off behind his eyes. And it almost made up for the weird stretchy feeling as another finger slid inside beside the first, David’s tongue licking along his collarbone and fangs scraping over vulnerable skin before coming up for a toothy kiss, Michael’s fangs in evidence as the blood on David’s mouth was passed along to his. Like predators, rutting in the half dark of a lost cave outside human knowledge except for those two little *fucks* and Sammy…somehow wrong to think of Sammy while David’s edging a third finger into him, slick cool yet strangely warm blood from his wrist easing his passage. Almost like David can see the thought of family in his eyes and the other vampire is kissing him like he wants to fucking devour Michael, make him all his and no one else’s…

“Don’t fucking think. Just feel, Mikey boy.” That grin, that fucking shit eating grin that got the grown ups so pissed off and Michael is on the verge of being pissed off as well because how fucking *dare* David and then the fingers crook and he cries out in pleasure instead.

“Oh god, god…”

“Yeah, I like that.” Dangerous smile, edged with too white teeth and gleaming animal eyes. “Beg me, Mike. I want to hear you scream for me. God, yeah. Watch you fucking lose it for fucking once. In another way then when you do when you’re pissed off so much you can’t see straight.” Michael arched his back as incredibly, another finger slid in beside the other three, mouth wide in shock and panting like a dog in heat. “So fucking beautiful...”

“Ah god, please, god, David..."

“Finally, my name.” Licking along the edge of his chin while Michael clutched his fingers through white hair, hips jerking helplessly while David’s other hand fisted his cock roughly for a moment. “Don’t come yet.” Helpless whine from the partner he held beneath him before he removed his fingers, Michael gasping with the emptiness before David was pressing at him and folding his legs towards his chest, weight on his hands as he finally entered Michael.

"God!"

"Doesn't belong to us...fuck you're so fucking tight..." Hard, desperate fucking, David kissing Michael with a razor edged smile, fangs clashing against the other's mouth and their own fangs, lips breaking open, mouths rimmed in red. Blood dripped down David's chest as he pounded into the mostly willing body beneath him, relishing the twist, turn and arch Michael has shown in the fight translated over to the bedroom. Couch. Whatever. Beautifully feral eyes glaring up at him through the dark and almost relishing the thought that next time the tables could be turned and he'd be the one on the bottom. But really, it was unlikely. Michael was fierce and strong...but he was only young. Younger then David and that's what counted. He leant down again to claim Michael's mouth in another open, wet, hungry kiss, tongue darting around the other male's as he fucked him hard.

But it went both ways. Michael clamped his legs around David's waist, arching up into the thrusts and rocking into them. Fuck, like a slut. But how could he have imagined it would have felt this good? It was like letting go of the trainbridge and dropping into the fog to fly. Before waking up in his bed half hard and wondering exactly what the hell had happened. Lost fucking Boy indeed. He growled at David, fangs splitting his lip open and David laughed before thrusting *hard* and Michael writhed, feeling silk rasp across his back and calico prickle just under the curve of his shoulder. The sound of sex is loud, slap of flesh on flesh and half strangled growling moans, mixed in with exclaimations and curses. "Oh god..."

"Fucking slut. Yeah, our pretty Star caught your eye, but I know why you stayed..." Bruising kiss and eyes shining like lights above Michael's dazed eyes. He was so fucking close... "You wanted us. Me. The Lost Boys. Not our Wendy...fuck, god, yes!"

"David!" Michael near screamed as he came, fangs sunk into his shoulder and David growling into his flesh like an enraged cougar as lukewarm liquid coated his insides, juddering thrusts continuing before David finally stilled. Teeth still fixed in Michael's shoulder. They just lay entwined for a few moments, before David roused and sat up.

"Now...Michael...we have some things to do. And don't look at me like that, we're not going after your family. We're going after those two smart arsed little pricks. The comic book kids."

"The Frog brothers?" Incredelous snort as David lifted an eyebrow.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

"I'm not. Really. Least, that's what they told Sammy their name was..."

"No matter really. The little fucks will still be dead when we're done..." David rolled off Michael and started to talk in his so sure voice of bloody nights to come. Michael nodded, listening, as David's dead seed leaked out of his ass and wondering what exactly he would experience next.