A/N: Don't forget to comment and 💜 if you like this story ^^

Chapter 2.

Simon tore off his coat and wrapped it around the boy.

The stranger startled and released a hoarse shout. It sounded strange, almost bestial.

"It's okay. I got you. I got you." Simon zipped and buttoned up the coat while mentally thanking his mother for investing in the practical, bulky thing last year.

The boy's eyes were nearly colorless and rimmed in pink. His narrow face looked bruised; blue veins showing starkly through the skin.

Simon's gut twisted and he folded an arm around the boy's waist and helped him across the road to sit on a bench.

They were partially sheltered, but the boy's mouth was dusky purple and his long grey hair was covered in frost. His teeth were clattering and the nails on his slender feet were dark blue.

"Jesus..." Simon ripped his boots off and pressed them onto the stranger's feet. They were a little loose, but their insides were lined in cotton and wool. He then pulled off his fuzzy green scarf and wrapped it around the boy's thin neck.

Simon was freezing by now, he was wearing a high quality woollen jumper in Faroese knit and thermal socks, but it was hardly enough in this weather. He put his arm around the boy's shoulders and checked the bus panel.

"I-it's okay. Just t-ten minutes and the b-bus will b-be here. It's m-much warmer inside." He rubbed the boy's arms while he spoke, then remembered the dried blood and stopped.

When he turned the boy was already watching him. His lashes were grey too and his pupils were a transparent blue, with only a thin violet outline to indicate an iris. Simon briefly wondered if the boy was blind, but those pale eyes tracked his mouth when he spoke.

"W-what h-h-happened t-to you?" Simon could barely speak past the chattering of his teeth.

"B-b-aad p-peo-ples." The boy had a heavy accent, low and lyrical, but his words came across and a different chill ran down Simon's spine.

The possibility of rape, robbery or kidnapping occurred to him, but the boy was curling in on himself - eyes closing with an exhausted expression - and Simon decided to save his questions for later.

This bus was empty too - it was getting late and most people were tucked away in their warm homes, celebrating.

The driver watched them warily as they shuffled on board and Simon added a passenger to his travel card. He got the boy situated and went back to speak to the driver.

"Do you have a phone I can borrow? I think I need an ambulance." Snowflakes were melting on his clothes, making them heavy with water, and Simon was shaking.

"No." The driver was a middle-aged man with a black moustache and a strong accent.

"Please, he's sick." Simon looked back and his gut leapt in alarm to see the boy was lying down on the seats.

"Sik? Drucks?" The man flashed Simon a hard glance.

"No! No drugs. He was naked in the snow. Can I borrow a phone?" Adrenaline was spiking through his veins and Simon could feel tears welling in his eyes.

"No drucks and no phone!" The man pushed the turn signal, to indicate he was ready to stop the bus, and Simon hastily returned to his seat and lifted the boy's head onto his lap.

The driver eyed them suspiciously in the rearview mirror, then switched off the signal, and continued driving.

Simon took a trembling breath and reached into the pocket on his coat to check his phone again. But it was still dead. The boy was alarmingly still and Simon faintly remembered hearing that it was dangerous to fall asleep when you were cold.

"Do you think you can sit up?" He brushed a few grey strands from the boy's pink brow and wondered if his hair was dyed.

Watery eyes peered up at him and the boy struggled to lift - they ended up pressed together and Simon kept up a steady stream of mundane chatter, talking about his friends and family, in an effort to keep the boy awake.

While he spoke a cold hand slid beneath his jumper, icy fingers tracing lightly over his skin, before a palm pressed to his belly.

Simon shivered, but the entire situation was already so surreal that he didn't question it.

When they reached Simon's stop it felt like the longest five minute walk of his life. His feet were numb, when they reached the traditional red brick house, but ten steps from the door the boy froze and refused to move.

The sun had set and the windows shone with festive warmth; full of holly berry decorations, candles and fairy lights. Muted sounds of celebration could be heard inside and Simon tugged eagerly on the boy's waist.

"Come on." He pulled a little harder and slender fingers clamped down on his wrist.

"No!" Wide-set eyes, that had been half closed all this time, suddenly opened wide and transparent pupils bored into Simon's head.

He didn't look real - didn't look human - and Simon felt the first dredges of fear.

"P-pleese. N-no peo-ples." Tears filled the boy's eyes and caught on his lashes. The fear went as quickly as it came and Simon's heart skipped a beat.

"Shhh. Alright, sweetie. This way." Simon guided the boy around the back of the house. He had no idea what came over him.

He'd never used the word sweetie in his life. But, even though they were the same height, the boy looked so small huddling in his coat and Simon felt a strong surge of protectiveness.

He opened the backdoor with his key and they snuck up the stairs and entered the bathroom. Simon locked the door, switched on the hot water in the bathtub, and sat the boy down on the closed lid of the toilet seat.

"It's going to be okay. A hot bath will make you good as new." He tugged off the boy's boots and winced again at his blue fingernails. "I'm going to call an ambulance and get you a doctor."

Trembling fingertips slid beneath his chin and tilted his head up.

"No...d-dactor." The boy said. His purple lips were surprisingly plump, in an otherwise narrow face, with a natural downturn at the corners. His nose was thin and sharp with barely any bridge at all.

He wasn't a beautiful in any way Simon was used to, but for some reason he couldn't look away.

He took the boy's hand thoughtlessly. It felt so natural to touch him. "Sweetheart, you need a doctor. Your skin is pink and purple."

The boy shook him off with surprising strength and gripped Simon's chin harder. "I sad no!"

Simon's eyes opened wide in shock, the boy's lips had pulled back to reveal bluish teeth and four needle sharp canines.

"O-okay." Simon croaked.

The fingers released him and the boy slumped back against the seat, eyes falling half closed again.

Simon stared a moment, heart racing. Those teeth didn't look human either. But there was no sign of them now and the boy only looked vulnerable and hurt.

He hurriedly switched the water to cold, to avoid a scalding, and finished unzipping the coat and unwrapping his scarf.

The boy's nipples were fuchsia pink and his body was completely hairless. His cock was purple, slender and bizarrely curled. Simon realized he was staring and he hastily switched his attention to the boy's injuries.

The cuts were slight, like the scratches of needles, as if the boy had torn away while they were still in his body.

Simon's jaw tightened at the unsettling scenarios associated with forced injections and he carefully slid his arms around the boy's small waist.

Soft ribs gave slightly beneath the pressure of his hands and the boy's skin felt rubbery. Not human at all.

Simon shook his head against ludicrous thoughts. He'd received a shock and he wasn't interpreting everything clearly. He also knew extreme cold could confuse the nerve endings in his fingertips. That had to be it.

He switched off the water and helped the boy into the tub. He shivered at first, hands clamping onto Simon's arms like talons. But then he adjusted and eased into the water with a blissful expression.

That rubbery skin softened beneath Simon's fingers - becoming smooth and silky - and he quickly pulled back. Shock. It was all shock.

He withdrew to the lid of the toilet seat and pulled off his clammy socks and jumper.

"Yoo too."

Simon looked up, startled. The boy's downturned mouth quirked a fraction and he inclined his head towards the opposite end of the tub.

Simon flushed scarlet. "I, uh. No thanks."

Thin grey brows slashed into a frown. "Sit!"

Simon actually stood and moved two steps, before he stopped, and stared at the boy, perplexed. He didn't think he was a pushover.

Well...not for anyone except his mom. And his sister. And his grandma. Alright, anyone with a smidgen of authority and right now the boy was eyeing Simon as if he was a misbehaving three year old.

"I don't think I should..." Simon began.

"Sit!"

Simon peeled off his wet jeans, and boxers, with clumsy fingers and clambered into the tub.

The boy smiled again and released a sound between a chirp and a purr. It sounded approving and Simon swallowed nervously.

The boy hadn't changed color at all. In fact, Simon was now certain that that was his natural skin tone.

Intermittent washes of violet and pinks ran over his face and shoulders, with delicate blue veins underneath. It was strangely pretty.

A slender foot ran leisurely up Simon's leg and pressed gently against his testicles.

Simon stiffened and watched the boy with wide eyes. The stranger's head tilted, eyes half-closed but intensely focused.

He began massaging with the pad of his foot. Applying pressure in a gently rolling motion, then releasing it and pressing again. Simon's breaths came faster and his cock rose through the warm water to rest against his belly. The boy's foot lifted and trailed up his shaft, heel pushing firmly.

Simon's hands tightened on the edge of the tub. His pulse beat fast in his throat and he was torn between the need to jump out of the bath, and run fast, or to press into that wonderful touch.

The boy purred again, dark pink tongue flicking out to wet his mouth and he climbed forward in the tub, causing water to slosh over the sides, and pressed into Simon's arms.

Simon hardly dared to breathe when the boy leaned in, breath warming his lips, and their mouths touched.

A/N: dun dun DUN.