Chapter 13 Peter #2
“I suppose.” Peter bent down to a bottom shelf to look for the ’56 Invasion movie.
Meanwhile, Theo was leaning in close to examine the rows of DVDs in the light of Peter’s phone. “You have all the horror classics, and then some.” True awe warmed his voice.
“I do. And you are very welcome to watch any and all of them.” Peter pulled the disc he was looking for from its place between Gone with the Wind and Some Like It Hot.
“I might take you up on that. Why don’t you have any light in here? It’s so creepy.”
Peter stood, but kept his phone aimed at the shelf Theo was looking at. “I see well in the dark, and no one else comes down here.”
Theo nodded. “Right. You really don’t have a cleaning person? I was wondering about that. Rich people usually have people who do their cleaning for them.”
“I don’t. For one thing, I don’t think a housekeeper would have enough to do, for another, I prefer my privacy. And picking up after themselves never hurt anyone.” Peter looked around the room. “I’ll put some lighting in here in case you ever want to peruse.”
Theo unglued his eyes from the collection. “You don’t have to do that.”
“No, I don’t. But I’ll do it all the same. Should we go watch this now?” He held up the movie for Theo to see the cover.
Theo had a certain look about him when he was keeping his thoughts to himself.
It rather undermined the purpose, but Peter wasn’t about to point that out to Theo, not least because the facial tell suggested that he, Peter, was hopefully worming his way into Theo’s head, his confidence, his heart.
Peter, after all, had already been in Theo’s pants several times and had enjoyed it there.
Those other places he was still craving, hard.
“Sure,” Theo said.
Peter stayed still so Theo felt safe leaving the room ahead of him. The basement beyond really was a bit dark for human eyes, but a few strategic LEDs would fix that. Peter could place an order online tonight and get everything set up tomorrow, no problem.
Theo took a seat on the couch and started on his food while Peter pulled down the screen and put the DVD in the machine.
He let the movie start, then got the remote from the storage shelf, along with the blanket he’d brought down for Theo. He put the blanket on the leftmost armrest of the couch.
Theo looked over his shoulder, watching Peter putting batteries in the remote, then went back to eating. He really doesn’t like not seeing what’s going on behind his back. I’ll have to chat with Bernard about that. Maybe while I show him how the blood eagle is done.
Peter sat down on Theo’s left, leaving about an inch of space between their bodies. While the events in Santa Mira began to unfold on the screen, Peter’s attention was focused on Theo.
Theo was more relaxed than he normally was.
Peter would attempt to lure Theo into his basement for a screening on a regular basis, because seeing Theo like this—engrossed and without a care—made Peter forget the lingering grumpiness that had been haunting him along with Bernard’s low-quality stalking.
Theo put his tray on the floor after he was done with his food and absentmindedly pulled his legs up onto the couch. He froze before settling back and turned to Peter.
“Do you mind if I have my feet up?”
“Very much.” Peter patted his lap. “I think you should put them here instead.”
Theo snorted but relaxed. “So you have a foot fetish. Should’ve known when you changed my socks the other day.”
“I did that because you were trembling all over. Still, your feet are not too bad.” Peter reached for the blanket, unfolded it, and put it around Theo. “Let’s keep them and the rest of you from freezing.”
Theo didn’t say anything. He let Peter wrap him in the blanket. He was blushing too, Peter noticed. That something as simple as a blanket gets him to look shy is a surprise, but I’ll take it. Ah, the bother of figuring out what it takes to please him.
Theo went back to his brooding face. Peter was reasonably sure his attention was only partially on the events unfolding on screen. There was a stillness in Theo’s body that Peter recognized as insecurity or self-consciousness, maybe even the fear of rejection.
Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Theo’s cheeks redden all over again before he purposefully sagged sideways against Peter’s body. Peter’s heart jumped in his chest, but he kept calm as he slowly lifted his arm and put it around Theo’s shoulders.
This is a movie date cliché, isn’t it? I never thought I’d be doing any such thing, but he’s so warm, so very soft.
Theo made no move to escape this physical closeness, this intimacy that was of a whole different nature than what they’d shared at the Boudoir.
Peter knew better than to ruin it with words or by starting to get greedy.
He did his utmost to provide Theo with a perfectly accommodating vampiric cushion and nothing else.
Peter’s reward for being so patient came around the point in the movie at which the doctor discovered the pods and the pod people hatching in bubbly, foamy-frothy yuckiness.
Theo was slowly dozing off and sagging further against Peter.
Peter knew what it meant to let oneself fall asleep next to a person: it was trust on a basic level, and it said Theo knew instinctively that he was safe with Peter, safe enough to let himself be this vulnerable so close to him.
Considering Theo had unfailingly locked his bedroom door ever since his first night in the house, Peter considered this quite the step.
The movie kept on playing until finally the credits rolled.
Theo had slipped fully into sleep some time before that.
Peter debated whether to wake him or just let him spend the night down here, but that wouldn’t do.
Even in summer, the basement was too cold, and it got only colder at night.
Peter didn’t want Theo waking up freezing under nothing but that blanket.
In the end, Peter decided to bundle Theo up in his arms, hopefully without waking him. That proved easier than expected. Theo was a deep sleeper. Peter made it all the way out of the basement with Theo in his arms before his eyes opened.
“Wha’s happenin’?” he asked, eyes heavy-lidded and slow, body soft and warm.
“You fell asleep, and I’m taking you to bed.”
“Huh?” Theo looked around and seemed to realize he was being carried. That pulled him awake and pushed him close to a panicky rush, though not quite into it. “What the hell?”
Theo wiggled under the blanket, but just a little, so Peter kicked the basement door shut behind him and kept moving toward the stairs.
“Ssh. Go back to sleep, Theodore. I have you.”
It pleased Peter more than a good performance report to feel Theo relax in his arms. On the staircase, Theo let his head fall back against Peter’s chest.
Everything about the night had gone wonderfully, right up until they hit the middle step.
The second Peter put his foot on it, the stained glass window in the wall of the staircase burst inward with force, and crows rushed inside and at them.
Angry caws from dozens of crow throats cut through the quiet night, the birds’ black beaks and sharp claws poised for attack.
Peter spun and crouched, shielding Theo with his body. Gritting his teeth, he focused on the birds, but they weren’t his specialty. A lot of vampires had a degree of mind control over animals, but not everyone could easily control the same species.
Peter, who’d effectively used wolves in battle, failed at deterring the crows from digging their beaks into him and Theo.
Peter’s own injuries were of minimal concern to him. Even as Theo started screaming and struggling, Peter crushed the young man against his chest and pulled the blanket up over Theo’s head.
“Stop, what—”
Theo struggled, but Peter was a good deal stronger.
“Hold on, I have you.”
Peter grabbed Theo tightly, taking the stairs two at a time and with speed.
The birds’ claws tore through Peter’s shirt and raked over his skin.
Their beaks worked like pickaxes to inflict damage.
One bird got Peter’s left eye—not quite digging out the eyeball, but nearly so, and Peter screeched with pain as he felt the soft tissue pierced through, felt the viscous liquid run down over his cheek.
“Peter?!” Theo’s fingers dug into his chest.
“Damn you, coward!” Peter shouted into the night, and from the night, from behind the broken glass, came chilling laughter.
Peter broke into a vampirically fast run, the birds struggling to keep pace but not yet giving up. They cannot. The coward has their minds in his filthy grasp.
The door to his bedroom was open, and Peter put Theo on the floor rather than the bed, then spun, shoved it closed, and locked it before any crows could get to them.
Theo was all adrenaline as he struggled to his feet, the blanket falling to the floor around him. His face was pale.
“Oh shit, fuck! Peter, your face!” He started toward Peter but stopped short of touching him. “You—your eye is… You’re bleeding so much… Shit…” Theo’s face contorted with a blend of terror, fear, and hurt.
Peter waved it off. “Will grow back. Don’t worry about it. Just really itchy.”
“Don’t worry about it! Your eyeball is half out of its socket! We need to get you to a doctor!”
Theo reached for Peter’s hand even as the birds’ scratching claws raked over the bedroom door with a truly horrific noise. Their calls didn’t much help. Hitchcock could not have imagined a darker way to end the evening.
“No need. Theo, I’m a vampire. I heal.” Peter closed his hand around Theo’s. “Bernard is outside. He can’t get in. The house is warded, so I have to go outside to get rid of him. I want you to—”
“You’re not going outside!” Theo threw his arms around Peter and held him with a surprising amount of strength considering he was only human. “I won’t let him get you. I won’t let him hurt you.”
Peter tried to dislodge Theo’s hold, but it was no good. He huffed out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Theo, it’ll be fine, but I need you to let me go and—”
“I’m not fucking letting you go, you idiot! You only have one eye left. What if he takes the other or…”
Theo sobbed, tears and snot leaking out of him with force and in copious amounts. Since Peter was currently crying eyeball juice himself, he didn’t really mind, but while he was okay with tears, snot was yucky, and humans could produce a lot of it.
In that very moment, Peter vowed to never give Theo cause to snot all over him and to punish any and all that got the snot gates to open.
Still, since Peter wanted this particular human more than he wanted a snot-free life, he hugged Theo back and even wiped at Theo’s cheek with his fingers.
It only spread the snot and tears, and Peter sighed.
I will have to stock up on tissues. The bother.
“Theodore, hush now. Hush. All will be well. Weller if you decide to be a good savee and let me go so I can spread the eye-for-an-eye gospel.”
“No!” Theo said with all the force of a reticent child.
Peter sighed once more. He’s barely two decades out of diapers. This is to be expected.
“Very well, very well.” Peter spoke in the most soothing tone he could. “We’ll stay here together. I won’t leave you, and we’ll just wait for his control to loosen or for him to get bored.”
“What about you? You’re hurt.” Theo’s snot-slick face came up from where he’d rubbed all that moisture into Peter’s shirt. Yuck. “You… Will you heal faster with my blood? Will that help?”
If not for the despair evident on Theo’s face, his torrential waterworks, and his raspy, hopeful voice, Peter would’ve lied.
“Yes,” he said instead, telling Theo the truth.
Theo nodded and tilted his head to the side. “Take as much as you need.”
At the very least, it would make Theo drowsy, and then maybe Peter would be able to find Bernard for some karmic retribution and some applied blood eagling. Peter ran a hand over the side of Theo’s neck.
“Relax. Remember, it’ll hurt otherwise.”
“How am I supposed to relax right now? Just go ahead. It’s not like Bernard ever gave a shit if it hurt. I can take it.”
Bernard be damned; Peter would not stoop that low. Plus, the eyeball had already stopped leaking.
With his vampiric strength, Peter lifted Theo off his feet and walked him to the bed. Peter’s depth perception was a little off, so there was a sort of tumbling into the sheets instead of a gentle putting down.
“You’re safe here, Theodore. The house is warded. My rooms in particular have extra strong wards. You can relax, and I will make you.”
Theo’s wide-eyed stare could have been brought on by the state of Peter’s face and shirt, which was bloody and snot-drenched now. Or maybe it was those words, or the fact that Theo was on his back, lying under Peter.
Peter wasn’t sure what drove him when he dipped his head and fused his lips to Theo’s. They had never kissed before, and it shouldn’t have happened this way.
There was a terribly long second in which Theo froze. But it passed, and then he eased his lips open, allowing Peter to deepen the kiss.
Peter had never tasted caramel, but Theo’s lips reminded him of that warm, sugary smell. Theo was a decent kisser, his soft mouth reciprocating and giving. When Peter had imagined this, he’d imagined Theo being more forceful, teeth seeking a sharper kind of pleasure, but no.
The interplay of tongue and breath lasted. The bird noises from the hallway ebbed, but they didn’t stop. Peter didn’t care. Underneath him—and when had he started pressing his body against Theo’s?—Theo was grinding up, seeking more than just a tender kiss.
Peter pulled back and examined Theo’s puffy lips with some satisfaction.
“Peter…” Theo said, his voice a plea.
“Tell me to stop, Theodore, and I will. Always.”
Theo licked his swollen lips. “Don’t. Don’t stop. I…I want this.”
“To give me your blood, or this?” For clarification, Peter ground his hips against Theo’s crotch, feeling the erection there.
“Both.” Theo’s right hand came up and gently wiped at the mauled side of Peter’s face. “I want both.”
“Good,” Peter said. “So do I.”