~Sexual Situations~

Svane woke with a start from his first dreamless night since signing the contract. He had anticipated waking up in that same dreamscape, tied down or in some other uncomfortable position with Mr. Nicolau looking on ready to exact whatever punishment he saw fit. 

What if he’s too weak? 

The question stopped him cold from throwing the comforter off his legs. If he gets that weak, how much blood will he need? Can he last another full month?

Knock! Knock!

The door opened and the object of his thoughts strode into the room, albeit slowly. Svane glanced at his benefactor, who managed to look just as breathtaking even with his greying beard and lined face. I guess this is what women mean when they say “distinguished.”

“Come with me.”

Svane’s legs swung over the edge of the bed and he slipped on his house shoes without hesitation. I guess he wants to punish me in the real world… though he’s so much weaker now. 

Brontes wondered if skipping the usual morning routine would muddy the taste of his meal, but the hunger pains had started in the middle of the night. It had taken great restraint for him to wait until morning and now all he could think about was hot liquid coating his tongue before gushing down his throat and returning the life ebbing out of him. 

He debated about whether to walk to where he normally ate his meals, but the pain that radiated from the pit of his stomach to the rest of his body brought him short in front of his bedroom door instead. 

It might be better this way anyway, he thought aimlessly, unlocking the door and kicking it open. The feeding room is the same as the dreamscape. 

Svane’s mouth dropped open in utter shock. He had been expecting a dark and cold room and dark furnishings. Instead, the wall he faced wasn’t a wall at all; it was a window, one that overlooked a sparkling body of water. How is the water so... clean? 

The second thing his eyes landed on added to his shock because rather than black and red sheets and dark furniture, the comforter on the California king bed was cerulean with white sheets. The frame of the bed was also white and rose off the light wooden floor by a foot or two. 

“You can pick your jaw off the ground.” 

Svane jumped at the edge in the vampire’s voice but did as he was instructed, his teeth clashing from the action. 

“I… was once a sailor.” 

A what? Svane turned to the vampire, who he noted had shut the door behind them. “Like sailing on the ocean for a living?”

Citrine eyes that had seemed lackluster glittered once more. “...Yes.”

Looking away from those dazzling eyes, Svane saw the room anew. It does feel like I’m on the ocean… 

“Do you need me to undress you?” Svane felt his cheeks flush.

Why so flustered? Brontes watched as defined shoulders jerked and he couldn't help but marvel at the way the morning sun glinted off the long silver hair he felt compelled to touch. 

“W-why do I need to—” The silver hair swayed with the movement of his food turning to gaze at him again. “Is that what the contract meant? I told you, we’re not doing it!”

Brontes ate the distance between them in a flash, gripping that defiant jaw in his weakening grip. “You are not in a position to fight me. You already signed a legally binding contract.” He let go, shoving the dingy boy toward his bed with what little strength he had left. 

Now that he’d fed his food properly, the dingy boy remained upright - though still a step or two closer to his bed. I do not have time for this. 

“I do not plan on sleeping with you, but for your taste to be to my liking—”

“I get it, I get it!” Brontes could only blink at his reddening food. “Fine, but I haven’t been able to, um, y’know...”

“Well, that was my doing. I think you will find your attempt successful this time.”

I knew it! Svane could only numbly reach for his shirt but hesitating at the revelation. He didn’t know how the vampire managed to manipulate his body without his knowledge. “Just what all can you do?”

“That,” Mr. Nicolau said, as he stalked toward him, “is none of your concern. Now, strip.” 

“Alright already,” Svane grumbled, pulling his sleep shirt off and throwing it to the other side of the bed. 

It’d been so long since he’d seen his food, much less under his instruction, and Brontes couldn’t help but marvel at the near-perfect specimen in front of him. 

Sinewy pale flesh made saliva gather in his mouth and he watched as long, and somehow shapely legs move backward on the bed. Each movement made other body parts flex and twitch in such a titillating way. Brontes reached for his button-down shirt so as not to get it dirty. 

“Am I supposed to just...?” Svane somehow couldn’t find the words, not when a small drop of fear rippled through his belly. 

It wasn’t just the blatant hunger making Mr. Nicolau’s eyes morph to lava, burning into every place they grazed on his body; it was the rapid change of his dark luscious hair to brittle grey. He really is wasting away.