The Shortcut
The fluorescent lights overhead flicker and die, buzzing and clicking, and Alec is left in darkness but for the glow from his laptop screen.
“Shit.” He slams his screen down, not bothering to shut the machine off, and gathers up the research scattered over the table.
With armloads of books and his messenger bag slung awkwardly over his shoulder, he calls out. “Wait. I’m here. I’m still here.”
The librarian has a set of keys in her hand, the hinged section of counter upright as she’s halfway through it. “We’re closed.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Alec says. “Sorry, lost track of time. Can I check these out?”
She sighs, but doesn’t say a word, as she scans the books through the computer and taps long, unpainted fingernails as Alec stuffs them unceremoniously into his bag.
“Thanks. Got the time?”
She looks pointedly behind her at the clock on the wall. It reads 9:15.
It’s dark out on the street. Alec meant to leave the library before the sun went down. It’s a forty minute walk home when it’s dark so he can keep to the streetlights. Only fifteen when he takes the shortcut, but the alley is dark, and he can’t afford to live in the safe part of town.
Even where it’s well lit, walking home with a laptop bag after dark around here is like wearing a target.
He walks quickly from the circle of light beneath each streetlight to the next, holding his bag close to his body. He can’t help but look around him, scanning the deserted street for movement.
There’s nothing. There’s no one around. He walks faster.
He’s about thirty yards from his shortcut when he hears footsteps behind him. He’s almost afraid to look, but then he does.
There’s no one there.
It doesn’t take much to make his heart pound in his chest tonight. Not after the research he’s been doing, the research that he got so into that he lost track of time.
It’s for his Mythology and Folklore class. They got to pick one myth or folktale, and track its history. Alec chose the vampire myth, because, well, it’s pretty much why he took the class in the first place.
All through high school he was obsessed with vampires. Books, comics, movies, even the cheesy TV shows. He loved all of them.
He keeps it to himself these days, outside of that class. No one at college knows he used to write horrible, mournful poetry or dye his hair black or crush on Gary Oldman or wear guy-liner every day for long enough that he could almost wake up in the morning and not have to put any more on, the stuff was so embedded in his skin.
The shortcut is close, and he wants to take it. All that reading really shook him up, even though he knows there is far more danger from real life people out here than make-believe monsters.
There it is again. Footsteps. Alec looks over his shoulder while he’s walking, almost trips over a crack in the pavement, just to discover, again, that his mind is playing tricks on him. There’s no one there.
He turns down the alley to take the shortcut home.
It’s just faster. So much faster. It cuts off, like, a whole block, and so what if it’s almost pitch dark in there, the only light a thin sliver of moon. Two minutes, tops, and he’s through and back under the street lights and five minutes from home.
The light from his phone screen stops him from tripping over his feet. He’d use the flashlight, but his battery is almost dead, and it drains it fast.
Pebbles scatter across the pavement behind him, and he freezes, briefly, before picking up the pace, his heart hammering in his chest. Probably just a cat.
And then there’s the definite—almost intentional—scuff of the sole of a boot over concrete, and Alec can’t help it.
He stops, and he looks behind him.
There’s no one there, and the alley is silent, but he can barely breathe anymore. His palms are slick with sweat and he just wants to go home. He turns to keep going.
There’s a man standing ten feet away.
Alec’s phone slips from his sweaty hand, hits the ground with a sickening crunch and goes dark. The man in front of him is perfectly still.
He’s not a big guy. No bigger than Alec himself. He’s standing there, face in darkness. Just a shape, really, with the light from the street at the end of the alley behind him.
“Jesus,” Alec says, breathing hard. “You scared the shit out of me.”
The guy takes a step forward. He moves like fluid, far too quickly, and he comes to a stop just a few feet away, with his face exposed in a sliver of moonlight. “That was the idea.”
His voice is smooth and sweet, like liquid honey, and his face is perfect. Too pretty to be real. Dark hair, dark eyes, full lips almost too pink to be on a man. If he’s older than Alec, it’s not by much, and they’re about the same build.
“Asshole,” Alec says, and lifts his chin, sliding his bag off his shoulder and carefully dropping it by the handle behind him, between his body and the wall.
He didn’t get through high school wearing guy-liner in one piece without learning to throw a few punches. He can totally take this guy.
Then the guy smiles. Alec always thought the double-take was bullshit, but he totally does it, because he’ll swear to anyone who questions him that the guy has fangs.
It’s all that fucking reading. His research, or, hey, maybe he fell asleep in the library and he’s dreaming this. It’s gotta be something, right, because as much as he loved them in high school, he knows that vampires aren’t real.
In his shock, maybe he didn’t notice the dude coming closer, but the guy is practically on top of him, and Alec stumbles back against the wall, trips over his bag and almost goes to his knees.
He’s backed against the wall, and the dude is right there, then his wrists are trapped and he can’t move, and all he can smell is the damp mossy brick behind him and the guy—holy fuck, the vampire—is grinning at him. Long, bright white canines press into his full lower lip.
“Shhh,” the vampire says, that honey-sweet voice making Alec’s knees go weak. “I won’t take much. You’re gonna live through this.”
To be honest, Alec hadn’t even gotten around to the fact that he might die, yet. His thoughts were still too full of trying to justify the teeth, and the voice, and the moving too fast to see. “You’re gonna...bite me? You’re gonna drink my blood?”
“Yeah,” the vampire says, pressing into Alec with his shoulder to pin him to the wall as he releases one wrist and brushes the back of his hand over Alec’s cheek, hard enough to bend his head to expose his throat. “It’ll only hurt for a minute. Promise.”
Alec’s eyes roll back in his head as his body reacts in an incredibly inappropriate way. His dick gets hard and his stomach twists with want. “Oh, my, god.” His breathing is far too quick, he might even hyperventilate. He closes his eyes. “Do it.”
He waits for the sting, the pain of sharp teeth, but nothing comes. The vampire has gone still.
Alec cracks an eye open to find the vampire staring at him in something like confusion.
“Dude,” the vampire says. “Are you actually getting off on this?”
“Um. Is that a problem?”
The vampire releases him, glides back half a step. “No. Hey, it’s refreshing. I guess you just get used to the crying and the begging.” He looks Alec up and down, and then licks his lips. “I don’t usually play with my food—but this could work.”
“You mean...?”
The vampire tucks his tongue beneath his lower lip, looks at him from beneath long, dark eyelashes. “If you’re up for it?” He gives Alec the once over again, and his eyes linger on Alec’s crotch. “Stupid question.”
It’s hard to breathe. Alec wants so badly he can’t get enough air. “Could I stop you if I wasn’t?”
The vampire’s eyes snap up to fix Alec’s gaze, and he takes another step back, lifting his hands, palms forward. “I’m not a rapist. Give me some credit.”
“Okay.” Alec mirrors the vampire’s posture, both of them seeming to surrender to the other. Then he drops his hands, waits for the vampire to follow suit. “But could I?”
The vampire presses one long, sharp, shining fang into the edge of his lower lip, and his eyes bore into Alec’s soul. “Not a chance.”
One second he’s two paces away, the next, Alec is pinned to the wall again, and the vampire’s body is pressed against his, shoulder to knee. There’s a hand, tugging at the waist of Alec’s jeans, and cool breath on his cheek. “You want this?”
“Fuck, yes,” Alec breathes.
The vampire kisses him. There’s nothing soft or gentle about it, it’s cold, hard, biting. Fangs scrape at his tongue, at his lips. The vampire moans and pulls away.
“You taste so good,” the vampire says as he yanks Alec’s jeans open and shoves them down. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“What, here?” Alec looks up and down the alley. It’s deserted, the streets at either end quiet, but it’s still technically public. “We could go to my—”
“Don’t go inviting strange bloodsuckers into your home,” the vampire says, as he unbuttons his own jeans and pulls out his cock. “It’s not safe. We’re doing it here.”
Alec stares at the vampire’s cock. It’s long and thick and pale and gorgeous and he wants it in him, now. He toes off his shoes, almost falls to the ground as he’s wriggling out of his jeans. “There’s lube in my bag—”
The vampire is almost a blur as he retrieves it, squirts a generous amount into his hand, and drops the tube. “You’re a boy scout.”
“Not for a long time,” Alec says, as, nude from the waist down, he backs up to the wall, mossy concrete beneath his feet threatening to make him slip. “Are you gonna be able to hold me up—”
The vampire just rolls his eyes and lifts Alec clear off the ground, not even appearing to strain as he guides Alec’s legs around his waist.
“Oh god,” Alec says, as he feels the slick, lubed head of the vampire’s cock at his hole. The vampire presses forward, agonizingly slow, and Alec throws his head back, hits it on the wall as he’s opened up with no prep.
“Look at me,” the vampire says, still pushing inside.
Alec moans and bites his lip and brings his eyes back down to meet the vampire’s. There’s a shaft of moonlight cutting across the vampire’s face, showing the color of his eyes for the first time. They’re blue, so blue it can’t be real, the shade so vivid it could be photoshopped. He gasps, as much for the unreality of it all as for the moment the full length of the vampire’s cock fills him, with an ache that spreads over his skin, through all the muscles of his body, through his bones.
And it all comes rushing down on him, the events of the last five minutes, taking him from the fear of getting mugged fueled by his research into vampires, all the way through to now there’s a vampire inside him, and it’s just not enough time to process it all.
“It’s not real,” he breathes, his lips grazing the vampire’s smooth cheek as he speaks, cool skin against his mouth. “I’m dreaming, I feel asleep in the library and this is a dream.”
The vampire wraps strong arms around him and hitches him up the wall, drawing his cock out just a little way before driving back in. “If you say so, sweetheart.” He does it again, pulling his hips back, punching back inside. “Is that what you want?” There’s a burr in his voice, his honey-smooth voice that suggests he’s affected—not as affected as Alec, but still. “You wanna pretend this isn’t real, this isn’t happening?”
“God, no.” Alec puts his hands in the vampire’s hair, finds it thick and soft and sweet-smelling, not like it should be, not like it belongs on a dead man. He pulls himself up, rising, falling on the vampire’s cock, throws his head back and just clings on as they go down, the vampire lowering himself to his knees, holding Alec tight and firm. “Leave me proof for the morning. Please. Don’t let me think it wasn’t real.”
The vampire pulls Alec into his chest, twists his fingers into Alec’s hair and pulls his head to the side. “You’ll have proof,” he mutters, and then bares his fangs. They shine in the moonlight, appearing to drip with saliva, and then swift and hard, he drives them into Alec’s throat.
The pain lances through Alec’s body like lightning, like an electric shock, fusing his muscles and making him cry out in pain. It’s still singing inside him, buzzing like a thousand wasps beneath his skin, when he can hear again, and even feel, the sound the vampire makes.
It’s a moan unlike any he’s heard before, like pure pleasure, long, drawn out, lack of control or any awareness of being heard. Alec can hear him swallow, hear the liquid sound of his blood being drawn out of his body through two small holes in his throat, and his heart pounds in time with it. In time with the aborted thrusts of the vampire’s hips, as though sex is an afterthought, as though that part of this encounter isn’t important.
“Help,” Alec croaks as his head spins and he tries to struggle, but in vain. “Oh, god. Help me.”
The vampire jerks Alec’s body, held tight in his arms, towards him, as if he’s a vessel almost empty and he wants the last few vital drops. As well as driving the vampire’s fangs deeper, it drives his cock deeper, too, nudging Alec’s prostate, making him twist and writhe. He does it again, and Alec cries out, helpless.
The vampire tears his mouth from Alec’s throat. The pain is irrelevant now, all Alec cares about is the cock filling him and the rhythm of the vampire’s thrusts.
“Don’t stop,” he rasps, so close, holding the vampire tight as though he might leave at this so vital time. “Please don’t stop.”
“Come for me,” the vampire growls, blood on his lips, running over his chin, down his neck. “Give me your warmth, give it all to me.”
Another thrust, another drag of his cock over Alec’s sweet spot, and there’s no question of holding back.
He comes, the pressure inside him bursting out like the cry that bubbles up from deep in his throat, in wave after wave of some unstoppable force.
His head falls onto the vampire’s shoulder. He takes comfort from the man—the thing—that drew so much of him out, brought him down so far that he’ll be lucky if there’s anything left after.
Vaguely registers the vampire rising to his feet, holding Alec’s limp body tightly in his arms, pressing him against the wall.
“I remember the sun,” the vampire whispers, as he rocks his hips, slowly thrusting in and out of Alec’s body in a fluid dance. “It was a long time ago, but I remember it. You’re like the sun, light that floods and warms everything it touches.” He gasps and fucks harder, his rhythm gone, jerking like a puppet on strings.
Then he stills, moaning again, and there’s a flood of cool inside Alec’s body and the heavy weight of the vampire’s body pinning him to the wall.
Alec doesn’t know how long it’s been when he lifts his head to find the vampire gazing at him. He’s still full of vampire cock, but who knows, maybe they don’t work like mortal men.
Those blue eyes bore into him and make his heart hurt, and he’s got to break it, chooses to break it with a kiss.
Without breaking the kiss, the vampire gently lets Alec’s legs fall to the ground, doesn’t pull out until Alec’s feet are on solid ground. They both moan in unison as he does so, and there’s a rush of liquid as Alec clenches around nothing. The vampire’s come drips down the inside of his thigh.
He doesn’t want to let go when the vampire pulls away, but he’s not strong enough to stop him. The vampire briefly returns, to lick at the blood oozing from his throat, and give him a quick, heated kiss before stepping back, leaving Alec using the wall behind him to stay upright.
The vampire thrusts Alec’s discarded clothing into his hands. Alec takes them out of reflex, but really, all he can do is stare as the vampire steps back, fully clothed again, jeans buttoned and zippered and looking as though nothing at all had just happened—
All but the blood on his lips, which he licks away with his tongue. “Thanks,” the vampire says, as he starts to step backwards.
“Wait—” Alec says, as he attempts to pull his jeans on without falling over, but when he looks back up again, the vampire is gone. Poof, like he disappeared into thin air.
“I don’t even know your name,” he whispers.
Alec’s bag feels heavier, his limbs weaker, his knees like jello as he leaves the alley and his shortcut behind him. The street stretches out on either side, lit by streetlights and safety.
He’d forgotten the fear of earlier in the night, and he still can’t summon it. There are still long minutes before he’s inside his building, but he feels protected, he feels watched, and the night doesn’t feel real enough that danger is a possibility.
He’s aware that he’ll wake in the morning wondering if it was a dream, but he lifts his hand to his throat and it comes away wet and sticky, and he can still feel the vampire’s cock inside him. He’s not going to be able to logic himself out of believing it.
He met a vampire. A real vampire. Vampires are real.
He had sex with that vampire. That gorgeous creature wanted him, and not just for his blood. That vampire fucked him up against the wall of his shortcut—
The shortcut he’s never going to be able to take again without thinking about it, without remembering it, without pausing in the exact spot it happened and craving more.
Alec reaches the door to his building, taps in the code with shaking fingers, and heads up the stairs, pulling up his collar to hide the marks, to hide the blood.
If he can get past his roommate without any questions, he’s going straight to bed, and he’s going to leave his window unlatched.
He’s got to know if the myth about vampires needing an invitation to enter a home is true.
