Despite howling winds and torrential rain, Jeremiah couldn’t hide away in his father’s mansion under a trifle of blankets and sheets. It was his one night, his one chance, to see Alexander again until the end of autumn, possibly winter too. Once the weather begins to turn after the long, beautiful summer the people of his village barricade themselves inside with their fires and their woollen clothes and their preserves. That would include Jeremiah’s father, a well-respected and stern man that the people of their village called ‘mayor’. Sneaking out from under his nose was dangerous, albeit rather easy in the summer while he enjoys all the fine things the warm weather grants a man of his wealth: sweet fruits, cold drinks with colourful flowers floating amongst ice, playing the role of ‘referee’ for the lads chasing a ball in the marketplace. His father enjoyed making his presence known among ‘the commoners’, he is the highest point of authority within their share of land on the Southern side of the great forest.

The great forest is where Alexander lives. Buried amongst the imposing trees, beneath light-blocking, thickly layered branches of fir trees, permanently pointing to the vast sky. There he has his house of stone, two conjoined rooms with no windows and one heavily bolted door. There he lived in isolation, only daring to enter the village after dark, with his hood drawn up high.

It would be cruel of Jeremiah to expect him to rendezvous in the village, and then where would they go? No, it was best he take the bitterly cold trek into the forest to Alexander’s home, for both their sakes.

Jeremiah crouched by his bedroom door, awaiting the sound of his father retiring to bed for the night. He was outfitted in dark clothes with a heavy cloak to repel the rain and wind when he was eventually able to slip out into the night. It filled him with nerves to attempt to slip out with his father in the house, it was not something he dared do often.

The sound of a puffed breath carried through his door as his father blew out his candle and began to climb the oversized and imposing staircase at the centre of their home. Jeremiah tensed, praying his father would not approach to check in on him, he did not wish to leap back under his sheets wearing his old leather boots encrusted with dark mud. He would never be forgiven for dirtying his father’s expensive bed linens. His father enjoyed his wealth immensely and had no time for those without fancy trinkets to their name, according to him the world didn’t revolve around the sun - it revolved around gold. Jeremiah wondered if he would share his views when he was older, he hoped not. There were so many things in this world that gold couldn’t buy.

Like love.

His father’s foot steps faded away and once he heard the door to his suite close Jeremiah began counting to one hundred. Plenty of time for his father to pull on his nightclothes and tuck himself into bed. Once he reached the magic number in his head he hesitated for a further few seconds, listening intently for any disturbances, then he twisted the handle of his door and dragged it open painfully slowly.

Despite the forest’s vast and treacherous paths it actually took Jeremiah longer to creep out of his home than it did for him to push through the undergrowth leading to Alexander’s cottage. Although, that wasn’t to say it was easy, he found himself buffeted by rain and wind and the occasional loose branch (also dripping wet) as he carefully picked his way over logs and around patches of poisonous plants. Eventually he caught a glimpse of stone bricks through his sopping eyelashes and felt a surge of confidence, so close.

The only clue that anyone was home came in the form of a soft golden line along the bottom of the secured wooden door where the weak light of a flame crept out through the smallest of cracks. Jeremiah climbed over a soggy log placed directly in front of the cabin, almost as though the occupant was not open to visitors in how perfectly straight it sat in the centre of the mildly trodden path leading to the door.

As he raised his fist to knock the door swung open and he dropped his knuckles to tap the chest of the man stood before him. Alexander. A tall man, made up entirely of sharp angles, coated in porcelain pale skin with dark hair slightly overgrowing his ears and forehead, and blood-red eyes that haunted Jeremiah’s dreams. He knew, in the logical part of his brain, that he should fear Alexander, especially since discovering his affliction. But Jeremiah had fallen in love with a creature of the night and despite his best efforts his heartache was only growing worse.

If the people of his father’s village found evidence of Alexander’s condition there would be torches and pitchforks. As it was there were many of the more militant members who whispered suspiciously of him, they accused him of being a ‘lurker’ as that’s all they could prove. So far the man was accused of keeping to himself.

But it was better they gossiped amongst themselves than made a true effort to investigate anything for themselves. That was the way of the unintelligent and ignorant: all suspicion and no thought. Alexander called him intelligent, a ‘free-thinker’, ‘wise beyond his years’, but it was the older man who was frequently teaching him new things, lending him the most fascinating books and encouraging him to pursue knowledge. Jeremiah could see past Alexander’s disease, see his handsome face, his kind heart despite its lack of rhythm, felt warmth radiating from his red eyes rather than blood lust.

Jeremiah threw himself into the older man’s arms and Alexander grasped him firmly for a moment before ushering him into the warmth of the fire-lit living room and closing the front door, securing all of the locks swiftly with practised hands. Alexander’s home may be small but it was incredibly cosy, or at least it was when Jeremiah visited, he was unsure as to whether Alexander bothered with the fire when he was not there as vampires do not need heat to function.

Once he had finished with the door, Alexander looked him up and down with a look of horror, “You are soaked through! Take your wet clothes off and I will warm them by the fire,” he ordered, “you may borrow mine while they dry.”

Jeremiah rolled his eyes but complied, peeling his clothes off with a grimace. Alexander had seen him in his small-clothes before, but not naked. Once he had handed all of the items from his top half to the older man he hesitated with his hands at the laces of his trousers.

“With Autumn approaching I will not be able to visit.” Jeremiah sighed, glancing at Alexander hopefully under his lashes, “I thought, given the circumstances… tonight… it would be appropriate for us to… take our relations a step further.”

Silence for a few seconds. This was not the first time Jeremiah had hinted at his desire to have sex with Alexander, but he was always brushed off with an excuse. He knew he was ready, he had known for some time, ever since he began having dreams of the older man that left his small-clothes soaked in the morning. However, Alexander’s lack of lust for him had begun to cause him to question himself. Were they not lovers? Was that not what lovers did? They kissed and embraced each other and told their deepest secrets and desires. They had expressed their love for one another verbally many a time, why was physically any different?

“Miah,” Alexander spoke the private nickname affectionately but quietly, “I have never lain with a human.” he admitted, keeping his tone low.

“And I have never lain with anyone, we will be each other’s firsts.”

“Why is it that it seems no matter how hard I try to convince you, you truly don’t seem to understand that my kind are dangerous? Deathly dangerous. I could rip you into two equally sized portions with my bare hands, do you have any comprehension of what could happen if I were to lose control with you?”

“I am not afraid.” Jeremiah said sternly, punctuating every word.

Alexander grabbed his shirt and yanked him closer roughly, “You should be.” he growled.

A shot of excitement and arousal hit Jeremiah square in the crotch, his legs shivering a little as he felt himself grow in his trousers. Instead of replying he simply let loose a stuttering breath as he stared into Alexander’s crimson eyes.

“I’ve left my own kind obliterated upon my bed, what could possibly have convinced you that your puny human body could handle my lust?”

“I-” Jeremiah sucked in a nervous breath, “I thi-”

“Speak up, is it stupidity or confidence that has you looking to be ruined?”

Jeremiah blinked, mouth open like one of his father’s mounted fish, “Love?” he squeaked.

Alexander chuckled, shook his head, and closed his eyes for a moment as though praying silently.

In a blur of movement he had dragged Jeremiah to his bedroom, throwing him to the centre of the large bed where he landed in a sprawl.

“Miah, you know that I love you. I do not want you to push yourself to do something you are not ready for because you think you need to prove yourself.”

“I am ready.”

“Fine, then unlace your trousers and take off your small-clothes so I may look upon the boy I am about to devour.”

Jeremiah was very tempted to object that he was a man, if a young one, but instead he obeyed, dropping his clothing over the edge of the bed gingerly.

Sitting naked upon the blankets sent a shiver along his spine despite the warm room. Alexander grinned at the movement, his pointed teeth peeking out from between his lips. With one hand he ripped off his own shirt, allowing it to fall to the floor in two halves, and mounted the bed to kneel between Jeremiah’s slightly parted legs. With a gentle push Jeremiah allowed himself to be knocked to his back and closed his eyes to focus on the sensation of the man he had dreamed of ghosting his fingers over his bare thighs.

“You are sure?”

“Yes.” Jeremiah breathed, almost impatiently.

The hands pushed his legs open further, treading down his skin slowly, stopping to pinch and squeeze at random points. Jeremiah smoothed his hands over the blankets beneath him nervously. The hands reached his buttocks and parted them easily. Jeremiah squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation of pain but none came, instead a strange tingling sensation as the fingers circled his puckered hole, pressing and tickling at it softly until it gave way just a little.

The clink of the lid being pulled from a glass jar rang through Jeremiah’s ears before a far more slippery finger began to probe at him, delving in more and more and more. When it had filled him to the knuckle he finally let the gasp slip that he had been holding back, such a strange feeling, but addictive. He already knew this was something he wanted more of.

A second finger worked its way in, then a third. Once the three were held together inside of him, his hole clinging to them, Alexander began to pull them back out. Jeremiah began to protest, he didn’t want to stop. The fingers slammed into him, ripping a girlish moan from Jeremiah’s throat. His eyes had snapped open and he stared at the ceiling with his mouth open.

“More!” He gasped, stretching his legs as far open as he could cope with.

A knowing chuckle was all the reply received before the fingers began to thrust into him at a fast pace, sending bolts of pleasure rippling through Jeremiah’s body, his fingers and toes curling on impact. He was losing control of his limbs as they jerked in time with the thrusts, filling his tight insides in a way he had never realised he needed. His cock had grown to its full length now, bouncing against his stomach lightly in synchronisation with the fingers.

They yanked out of him so suddenly he cried out pathetically, desperate for further simulation, deep inside of him, pressing into his most sensitive muscles.

He need not have wasted the time thinking such a thought as the blunt head of Alexander’s cock rubbed against the tight ring of his muscle guarding his arsehole from intruders. He sunk in slowly and raised himself over Jeremiah to lean on his elbows and knees while he did.

There was an ache that came with the stretch of cock but he took deep breaths and gripped the bedding beneath him, steeling himself. His hole was tightly clenching onto Alexander’s length, as though both petrified and desperate for more. Jeremiah supposed that was rather accurate.

It did not take long for him to sheath most of himself inside of Jeremiah, stopping when he was comfortable and watching Jeremiah’s face with a strange expression.

“Miah, once I start…”

“I can handle it.”

With a quick duck of his head Alexander kissed him, his sharp teeth catching Jeremiah’s lip with a pinching pain.