23. Oscar
Chapter 23
Oscar
T he line of gray folding chairs outside the Manhattan Lyric audition room didn’t exactly exude a sense of welcome or comfort, but Oscar didn’t mind. He was one of only two singers waiting their turn. He flipped through his music absent-mindedly. After all that had happened, he couldn’t bring himself to be nervous. He was mostly just grateful.
Trent’s audition was immediately before his, so Oscar assumed he’d be there soon, although Trent was cutting it close.
The elevator bell rang from the other end of the hallway, and the two polished aluminum doors slid open to reveal his mate. Oscar’s cheeks warmed upon seeing how handsome Trent was. He wore a charcoal suit that accentuated his strong, compact body, and his blonde hair was perfectly coiffed.
A smile spread across his face as he made eye contact with Oscar. Trent’s steps bounced as he crossed to his mate, plopping down in the adjacent folding chair and leaning against Oscar’s shoulder.
Oscar kissed him on the temple. “Are you ready?”
“I think so,” Trent replied, biting his bottom lip. “I think…I’ve been ready for a while. I just haven’t let myself feel it.”
“You’ll get it. You’re amazing.” Oscar slipped his hand into Trent’s, intertwining their fingers. Trent’s palm was warm and comforting against his skin.
“Please. You’ll definitely get it.” Trent grinned. “I’ve seen your audition book. You’re way more versatile than I am.”
“Am I?” Oscar winked, and Trent let out a low chuckle. Oscar leaned over and whispered. “Whatever happens, we have time. You’re my mate. You can spend the next hundred years singing if you want.”
Trent tapped his fingers on the large black binder he held in his hand. “A hundred years, huh? So you think I’m gonna go vampire?”
“I, well, I hoped.” Oscar was suddenly flustered. “I didn’t mean…whatever you want to do is what I want.”
Trent leaned forward and kissed Oscar gently on the neck, sending a cascade of tingles down Oscar’s spine.
“I’m teasing. I’ll become a vampire. Eventually. I don’t want to look quite this young when you turn me. I’ll get more respect if I’m solidly in my thirties.”
“You…you’re not wrong.” Oscar’s phone chimed, and he slid his hand into his pocket to quiet it. “That was the alarm I set for your time slot. They’ll come for you soon.”
Trent nodded and tightened his grip on Oscar. “It’s crazy that after being so obsessive about this audition for so long, now it…it doesn’t seem to matter as much.”
Oscar pulled back and looked at him, raising his eyebrow. This was unlike his mate.
“Really.”
Trent rolled his eyes. “I mean, I care about it, obviously, but it’s not everything. We have a whole life to build, regardless of whether either of us is part of this program next year.”
Oscar leaned in and gently kissed Trent. His mate’s lips were soft and warm.
Someone behind Oscar cleared their throat. He broke the kiss reluctantly and turned to see a young woman in a matronly blouse with a bow at the neck. An intern, Oscar presumed.
“Mr. Erickson?” Her voice was monotone. “They’re ready for you.”
Trent stood, smoothing the front of his suit. “It’s time.”
“Break legs, sweetheart.”
Trent smiled and followed the woman through a nearby door, leaving Oscar on his own.
If Oscar were smart, he would have looked over his music one last time, making sure that he was confident in every phrase and breath. But he couldn’t find it in himself to worry over it. Instead, he closed his eyes, hoping to hear his love sing.
The doors to the studios were thick, but they couldn’t do more than muffle the clarion voice of a world class opera singer. And that’s what Trent was. Oscar knew it. He believed in Trent, and as the strains of his first aria rang out, Oscar lost himself in the luxurious sound.
Trent was nailing it. Oscar had never heard him sing better. He could tell that even through the wall. He couldn’t imagine the richness of timbre the auditors were experiencing on the other side of that door. His mate was perfect.
He had drifted off into an almost meditative state when the door opened with a creak, jolting him back to reality. He expected Trent to emerge from it, but instead, it was the intern again.
“Um…the auditors would like you to join us, Mr. Acosta.”
Oscar’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he stood and followed her into the audition room. Trent was still there, leaning on the piano with an easy grace, chatting with the director of the program, a bearded man in his early forties. Maestro Zaslavsky.
“Ah, Mr. Acosta, thanks for joining. Mr. Erickson was saying that the two of you do an excellent version of the duet from Don Carlo. Since you had the appointment after him, I thought you might perform it for us.”
“Oh!” Oscar locked eyes with Trent, who was wearing a mischievous smile. “If…if you want to.”
“Of course I do,” Trent said, and gestured for Oscar to stand next to him. Oscar sidled up to him, basking in the confidence and ease that radiated off Trent. He was so relaxed. He must have realized he was nailing the audition.
Trent leaned in and whispered in Oscar’s ear. “We’re best as a team.”
Oscar’s chest warmed with the certainty of Trent’s words. He was right. The two of them had spent so long competing, but it was them together, joined with an ever-strengthening connection, that held the possibility of true triumph.
Oscar turned, facing the table of auditors, and smiled as the piano launched into the dramatic introduction. As Trent and Oscar began, their voices blended, balanced and complementary, and they poured themselves into the melody. They imbued it with their hope and their desire and, yes, their love, as the music swelled and filled the room.
Oscar’s rooms at the Grosvenor covenhouse were spare. Before any vampires had inhabited it, the building had been modern condominiums above a ground floor office space, and Oscar lived in a basic one-bedroom. He’d done little to decorate it. He hadn’t seen the need before now. The walls were still the slate gray of the original construction, and they were bare. He shifted self-consciously from leg to leg as Trent entered the apartment.
“Hey, this is where I?—”
Trent’s mouth was against him before he could finish the sentence, pushing him against the granite kitchen island. It looked like his mate wasn’t overly concerned with his lack of interior design. There was nothing tender about Trent now, his thick, muscular tongue invading Oscar’s mouth. He moaned at the aggression. He loved it when Trent took control.
Oscar moaned even louder as Trent’s hand came up to the back of his neck, gripping him and holding him as he continued to ravage him. The man was going to kill him. Oscar shuddered, and he brushed his rock hard cock against Trent’s leg. Trent could be rougher, even. Oscar was a vampire, he wouldn’t?—
“Wait.” Oscar pushed back gently on Trent’s chest. “You don’t want to be a vampire?”
“Not yet,” Trent replied. “Eventually yes. In a couple of years.” Trent squinted at Oscar with suspicion. “Why?”
“It’s just…you’re human. Humans are very breakable.”
Trent didn’t answer. Oscar couldn’t tell if he was considering what he’d said, or angry at him for being overprotective.
“That makes sense,” Trent said. “But I’m not ready.”
Oscar nodded, wrapping his arms around Trent’s strong back. “We’ll wait. But…well, I don’t want to put any pressure on you…”
“What?”
“If we complete the mating bond, that will provide some protection, without having to turn you. You’ll gain some strength and speed, just not as much as a full vampire.”
Trent cocked his head. “Oh. Why don’t we do that?”
“I don’t know.” Oscar tore his eyes away from Trent, staring at the laminate floor beneath. “I don’t want you to feel pressure?—”
“Oscar.” Trent reached forward and brought Oscar’s chin up, forcing him to reestablish eye contact. “I love you.”
“You do?” The words were barely perceptible as they escaped from Oscar’s lips.
“Of course I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. I…” Trent stopped, taking in a deep breath and letting it out. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m proud that you’re my mate.”
“You are?”
“I know…I was kind of an asshole. But I promise you. I’m in this.”
Oscar nodded. Tears welled up, and he forced himself to speak. “Now that the danger is past and Elliott is dead, I just…I’m having trouble accepting that things can be good . They haven’t been in so long.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” Trent said, a fiery determination shining in his eyes. “I’ll prove it to you.”
With those words, Trent was on him, his tongue invading Oscar’s mouth, strong and searching. Trent’s hands were on him, tugging his jacket off, undoing his belt. The desperate need to feel Trent against him overtook Oscar. He frantically unbuttoned Trent’s shirt, striving to get Trent’s smooth skin and muscle under his fingertips.
Trent’s hand was around him now, gripping him, and his whole body jumped at the electricity in the touch. He thrust his hips forward, desperate for the friction.
Trent broke off the kiss, pressing his forehead against Oscar’s, the bridges of their noses touching. “How do you want to do this?” Oscar shivered at the power in those words.
“Please. I need you…please take control. I don’t want to think anymore.”
Trent’s eyes sparkled as his hand went to Oscar’s chin, turning his head to the side with a sensual strength. His tongue was in Oscar’s ear now. Oscar squirmed and whined as Trent pushed inside, licking, then nibbling at the lobe.
“Ungh…” It was so much. When Oscar thought he maybe couldn’t take it anymore, Trent broke off and spun Oscar around, pushing Oscar’s pants down to his ankles.
Oscar leaned forward and rested his elbows on the kitchen island, closing his eyes tight.
“The perfect meal,” he heard Trent say, and then his ass cheeks were being pulled apart and Trent’s tongue was on his hole, flicking and tasting.
“Fuck, Trent, fuck that feels so good…” Oscar’s voice broke as he spoke. He pushed his ass back, enticing Trent to invade further, to go deeper. Soon enough, Oscar got his wish.
Trent was fucking him with his perfect tongue, breaching him and pushing in and out. It was heaven. Oscar couldn’t contain himself any longer, his moans growing to full on shouts of pleasure.
“Please, I can’t take it anymore,” Oscar called out to his mate, who was relentlessly torturing him, devouring his hole. “You have to fuck me.”
The feeling of Trent’s tongue disappeared, and the absence was devastating, but Oscar held out hope that it would soon be replaced by his thick cock.
“I need to prep you,” Trent said, pressing his finger gently against Oscar’s opening.
“I told you last time, I’m a vampire. I’ll heal fast. Just fuck me. Use the fucking olive oil for lube, I don’t care. Just get in me.” Oscar’s pleading was absolutely out of control, but he’d waved goodbye to his control from the first kiss.
He heard the clink of the olive oil bottle, and a slick finger pushed into him.
“Good enough,” Oscar said. “Get in me.”
“My impatient mate.” Trent’s voice was a low growl. “I’ll give you what you need.”
It hurt when Trent entered him, but Oscar didn’t care. The pain subsided soon enough, leaving only the intense fullness of Trent’s girth. He loved it, being used for his mate’s pleasure. He nearly came at just the idea of being filled with Trent’s seed.
Trent went slow at first, but after a few encouraging moans, his pace quickened. Oscar gripped the far edge of the island with his fingertips as his mind turned off. The slap of Trent’s muscular thighs against his ass was hypnotic, and Trent pegged his prostate again and again, pulling out pleasure-filled gasps and sobs.
“You feel so soft and tight around me, Oscar.” Trent’s pace was brutal, not letting up for a second. Trent was doing what he promised. He was showing Oscar that he owned him. “You belong to me. You always will.”
Oscar’s rock-hard cock jolted with Trent’s words, and he felt his balls tighten. “I’m going to…”
With one powerful move, Trent pulled out and flipped Oscar onto his back, laying him down on the kitchen island. Oscar laughed with surprise, but that laughter died as Trent climbed up on the island and pushed Oscar’s knees against his chest. Trent pressed down on Oscar’s thighs with his muscled arms and buried himself inside Oscar once again. Oscar had a perfect view of Trent’s face now, and the determination he saw there sent him flying. This was his mate, and his mate wanted him, needed him, needed that connection. His mate would never let him go. He’d promised.
Trent’s jaw tightened, and Oscar could tell he was a few thrusts away from the precipice.
“Trent…”
“I want this. Make me your mate.”
Trent’s neck was inches away from Oscar’s mouth. Trent started to lose control, his rhythm growing erratic, and Oscar let his fangs drop.
This man was his.
He bit down hard on Trent’s neck. Trent cried out, and the warmth of his cum filled Oscar’s insides. It was amazing. After a few swallows, Oscar unlatched himself and brought his wrist up to his face, slicing open a vein with his fang and holding it to Trent’s mouth. Trent licked at the blood flowing down Oscar’s arm and swallowed.
The bond snapped into place between them even as they both came again with an intense shudder. Before they’d been connected, but now they were joined. Love, gratitude, and satisfaction flowed from Trent through the bond.
Oscar wrapped his arms around Trent’s neck, guiding Trent’s head in closer for a long, slow kiss. This was how things should be. This is what it meant to have a mate. Not fear. Not ruthlessness. But giving themselves over to each other willingly and without reservation.
“I refuse to lose you,” Oscar whispered into Trent’s ear, wrapping his legs around Trent’s waist.
“You never will.” Trent squeezed their bodies even more tightly together. “You never will.”