"You're a vampire. I live next door to a vampire." Harry scrubbed at his face. "This... how is this my life?"
John leaned against the table separating them. Harry tried not to take an instinctive step back. Now that he knew what John was, it explained that low-key radiating sense of predator that he put off. The hurricane lamp on the table caught his eyes, making the green look flecked with inhuman gold. "And what exactly are you going to do now, Mr. Dresden?"
"I... Stars, I just wanted to borrow some candles," Harry said weakly, shoving his hands in his pockets to avoid fidgeting. "I can't believe you live here. Don't vampires haunt old castles and stuff?"
"Chicago is very suitable for someone who is sensitive to sunlight. In the winter, the weather is poor enough that cloud blocks out the sun and living in an urban canyon makes for plenty of shadows." He sounded so human, rational and normal. It was easy to ignore the sharpness of his two upper canines. Hell's bells, how had he missed that?
"Oh. Good for you?" Harry winced. "So is that a no on the candles?"
"Are you not afraid the longest you spend in my presence, the more likely you are to be hurt?"
"Are you going to kill me or turn me?" John shook his head. "Then no, not really."
"You are an incredibly reckless man."
"I just spent something like five hours in the dark. I'm a little fixated on fixed that."
That depends on how you term "fill," because this certainly made me smile. :)
Poor Harry, shocked and frustrated and "is that a no on the candles?"! :) No, Harry, I don't feel sorry for you. You should tell John he can have a taste if he'll just light some candles and give you some light to work with. :) I'm sure he'll be accommodating enough then to go out and get you candles if he doesn't have any!
shut up, I'm not writing this. Commentboxing does not count.
John had the corner apartment, so he had a better view of the city than Harry did next door. While the vampire rooted took the hurricane lamp into the next room to look for a box of candles, Harry sat in the chair at the window in the pitch black and looked out.
It was strange. Chicago wasn't supposed to be this dark. There was no moon tonight and the buildings and streets were dark. In some of the windows across the street, Harry could see faintly glowing lights. Nothing electric. All soft flames in the blackout. Everything felt unbalanced.
Harry didn't know when John came back. The dark was thick, unbroken by the hurricane lamp. Harry assumed John could see in the dark and had abandoned the lamp. "It's weird," Harry murmured. "I've lived here for years. First time I've seen the stars. With all the light pollution gone, they seem really bright."
John closed in until Harry could see him out of his peripheral vision. "Hm. Strange, isn't it? It's a perfect night, but so many souls are awake," he said with equal quiet. "Even though the city itself is asleep."
Harry nodded. It was almost nice, like this. He didn't want it to last because he needed to go to work to make money to pay his rent, and that wouldn't happen with the blackout. But for the moment? It was nice.
John offered a box to Harry, presumably the candles. "Thanks. Now I can look around, see if I have anything in my kitchen that doesn't need electricity to cook."
"Hungry?"
"Starving, you? Oh." He felt his face redden. "Sorry, stupid question."
"I am," John said mildly, and Harry wished there was enough light now so he could see the vampire. "Stop it. I'm not going to bite you without your permission."
I'm still not sure I believe you, because this? Totally works for me. Commentboxing is *definitely* good by my standards.
Tell you what; you can write all the non-fills you want, and I'll smile and nod and say they aren't fills while totally and not-so-secretly believing they are. :) Sound fair?
I love the quiet moment this starts out with, because it's true - without all the light pollution, the city does look different, and the sky's changed, and it's one thing to know it and another to actually see it.
Harry is also adorable in how he's so relaxed around John, but also sort of feelings out in the whole "okay, vampire. lived next to me for a while, hasn't killed me yet, what do I do now?" way, and his "I don't know if this is okay" sort of awkwardness. :)
There wasn't much in his apartment. Harry found some PopTarts, a few cans of warm Coke, and some coldcuts (that were fast becoming luke-warm cuts with the fridge powered down). He scarfed down the PopTarts, but made the pastrami into sandwiches and brought them back nextdoor.
At John's inquisitive eyebrow, Harry said, "Makes no sense to waste the light. Might as well share." He held out a sandwich wrapped in a paper towel. "You eat people food too?"
John stared down at the offering. "You didn't put garlic in it in some immature attempt to kill the monster next door, did you? Because I don't appreciate such cliches."
"Pastrami and provolone on white, I promise."
So somehow they ended up on the sofa eating. John only had one half of his sandwich, claiming to not require more fuel than that. Harry would've questioned further, but he was hungry and glad to have more for himself.
It was getting cold. Chicago in late winter was chilly and the A/Cs had been out for almost a day now. Harry was dressed warmly, but the temperature continued to drop. John eyed him keenly as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "A moment," he said, then left the room, steps certain in the black.
John brought a thick blanket back, handing it off to Harry. It was cushy in his hands, likely a comforter of some sort. He thanked John and nudged off his shoes, curling his legs up on the sofa and laying the blanket over him. "Lemme guess, you don't do the whole cold thing?"
"Correct," John said, taking his seat next to Harry again. "I feel heat and cold, but it doesn't hurt me as it does you. I don't have need to keep my core temperature around 98.6 as you do."
"How'd it... happen? Have you been alive for centuries or something?"
John smiled, sharp teeth unabashedly on display. "No. I was overseas with my troop on a peacekeeping operation about... fifteen years ago, I suppose. I worked closely with our local liaison and translator. We became friendly."
"And he bit you?"
"He saved my life. I'd taken a bullet and was bleeding out. He turned me so I wouldn't die."
"Oh." Harry went quiet again, looking down at the blanket. He caught some frayed threads between his fingers and started braiding them absently. "I'm... sorry? I guess? I'm not sure what to say."
The vampire shrugged. "It's fine. I haven't lived long enough to be discontent with my supernatural immunity. I'm fine with my situation."
John, the friendly neighborhood super-well-adjusted vampire. Harry shook his head, smiling.
Harry was starting to kind of like sitting in John's apartment. The view was, as mentioned, better. The sofa was comfy, as was the blanket. It was clean and tidy in a very endearingly OCD way. Even the CD rack was alphabetized.
And John was good at quiet. Harry was aware of his neighbor before today, but didn't really know him. Yet they were already getting really good at comfortable silence. Usually you had to know someone for a while before you could resist the impulse to fill any gap in the conversation with noise. But here, in the dark peacefulness?
So Harry was surprised when John stood up and went to the window, movements quick and lacking his usual grace. "You should leave."
Harry lifted his head from where it'd been resting on the arm of the sofa. He'd been working steadily towards a nap. "What?"
"Go back to your apartment." His tone was hard, but lightened when John glanced sideways to smirk at Harry. "You can borrow the blanket. Just give it back later."
"Did I do something wrong?" He tried not to sound like he was whining. It was just that he was looking forward to that nap. It was hard to sleep in his own apartment, alone in the blackout. There was that creepy paranoia that someone might break in while he was sleeping.
"Not expressly. But you're still here," John said, giving Harry a significant look.
"Okay?"
He snorted. "I'm getting hungry, Mr. Dresden. My iron control has its limits. One such limit is sharing my space with a... with you."
Harry sat up straighter. "With a what?"
"Best I don't answer that. You wouldn't understand." His smile turned somewhat bitter.
"Try me. I mean, I haven't felt the urge to search for any sharp, stake-shaped objects yet." He knew he sounded defensive there. But he hadn't done anything to make John think he wasn't okay with the vampire thing. The cageyness was bothering him.
John slinked back over to the sofa, leaning down with one hand on the armrest. "With a warm, hot-blooded man who is falling asleep on my sofa." His eyes gleamed in the dark, almost glowing. "Do you know why vampires tend bite people as they sleep?"
Harry put all of his focus on not moving away, pressing back into the cushion. He had asked. "No?"
John bent further down and inhaled deeply. Then he grinned, something wild to the look on his face. "Sweeter taste. And the melatonin is rather nice. Mellow and heady." His breath gusted over Harry's mouth.
In the next instant, he stood up straight and backed away. "Clear enough, Harry?"
John continued to stand at the window, posture somewhat stiff. Harry watched him, thinking. He didn't want to leave was the thing. He knew he had some weird issues; he either shut himself away like a hermit or he refused to be alone. Right now, he wasn't feeling the need to be isolated, so he was extremely reluctant to go. Not when he felt so ensconced. John was perhaps the only person who could make you feel welcome while telling you to get out.
"So," Harry asked, loudly cutting through the silence. "How often does someone give you permission?"
John turned very slowly to Harry, face pulled into a confused grimace. "Come again?"
"You said you don't snack without permission. How often do you get permission?"
John stared at him for a long moment. "Less often than I'd like," he answered carefully.
"And you can bite someone and not turn them?" Informed consent was a good thing. Harry read about it in a magazine once.
John took one step forward, then seemed to change his mind and backed away again. "It takes concerted effort to turn someone. It's not something down lightly or by accident."
Harry nodded, mulling that over. "Okay. Cool." He shifted on the sofa, laying his head back down and pulling the comforter more snugly around himself. "I might doze off for a bit."
"I... all right." He sounded very uncertain.
"I'm just saying. I know the risks and I'm okay with them." He shut his eyes pointedly and relaxed into the couch, into that electric feeling of being safe in a monster's den.
He did sleep for a while like that, tucked up with his long legs bent to fit across the seats. But it couldn't have been too long before he was woken up by John.
It might've been the grip around his wrist that woke him up, a cool-skinned, stern hold. It was that or the small, sharp pain in his arm. He instinctively tried to pull his arm away from the hurt, but it was held fast and he couldn't manage it. "Hey, ow."
John withdrew his mouth from Harry's arm. "Did I misunderstand you, Mr. Dresden?" When Harry just blinked blurrily at him, he elaborated, "Permission, Harry."
"Oh. Uh, yeah." Harry nodded slowly, eyes locked to John's mouth. It descended on his arm again and there was that pain again, where teeth were opening two cuts. John broke the skin, then licked broadly over the marks.
That was weird. Harry frowned as the pain faded to numbness, a warm, dreamy feeling replacing it. "What..."
"Low-grade narcotic effect. Meant to placate prey," John explained readily. "It'll fade." And he ducked his head, licked over Harry's arm again, and then wrapped his lips around the bite mark. There was a pull, and...
Harry lay his head back on the sofa, gasping. He could feel John doing his vampire thing, but it was all mixed up in his head. He felt the suction, a faint flare of pain when John's tongue touched the punctures in Harry's skin, but it was getting lost in the distant numbness and the drowsy leftovers of sleep. It was some crazy dissonance, watching through half-lidded eyes as John set his mouth on Harry's arm and drank deep.
Maybe he should have worried over how much blood he was giving up. Maybe he should have told John to stop. Maybe...
Maybe he'd just sag back into the sofa and let himself float for a while. Because when Harry Dresden went looking for trouble, he did it was a single-minded determination that was almost admirable.
The first thing Harry did upon waking up again was run his tongue over his teeth. No fangs in place a canines. So he was alive and unturned.
The next thing he did was notice the sun was shining on his face. It took a few long seconds for the implications of that to sink in, but then he opened his eyes and looked around. It didn't take long to locate John; he was laying on the cushions behind Harry, squeezed between him and the sofa back.
Barely thinking, Harry grabbed the comforter and pulled it over both of them, blocking out the rising sun.
John's eyes opened, taking in Harry holding the blanket over them like a shield. "Harry."
"Sun's up."
"My windows are all tinted to hold out the worst of the UV light. I do live here, you know," he chided, a smile curving his lips.
That made sense, Harry conceded. He lowered the comforter. "So." Where to even start? There was a weird intimacy to having had a vampire feed on you. Harry's wasn't sure what to do with that.
"Breakfast? I think it's customary to cook after you've had someone over."
Harry's eyes widened. "You didn't... we didn't..." He made a gesture between them.
John rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't think that was a good idea for your first bite."
"Wait, so vampires do that?" He tried not to sound too appalled.
The vampire pushed himself up to sitting. "I would explain the basic connection between blood and sex, but you don't look quite up for it." He reached out and took Harry's hand. There was an ace bandage taped to his arm, neat and clean. John examined it carefully. He nodded, satisfied. Maybe vampires were big on taking care of their meals. Thoughtful, in an insane way. "Shall we see if any food is surviving the blackout?"
Harry let John lead him to the kitchen, wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into this time.
I've now written Harlequin vampire romance. Okay then. :goes to bed:
continued from here, this is a sequel to my impromptu vampire!John fluff.
The power outage resolved itself eventually. Chicago lit up again by the next evening and the phone lines ended up tied up for hours as people called each other to confirm safety. The TV talked about the scattered looting, the cops who'd run themselves ragged trying to keep order, and the mayor making a statement explaining how the blackout occurred and the steps being taken to prevent another such event.
It was like coming out of a long sleep. People left in the morning to go to work, blinking up at the winter sun as if it had gone out during the blackout too.
Harry went to work, settled back into routine. Opening the shop, dealing with a few customers, reading a magazine behind the counter in the long stretches of time when the shop was empty, pointing a few people towards Bock's shop when he didn't have what they needed.
He went home, fed the pets, fed himself, and slept.
Or tried to. Buried under blankets with Mister laying on his back, purring loudly, Harry just stared at the wall. Tired, but unable to fall asleep, he lifted his arm in the pale light of the moon and looked at the two dark pink marks on his forearm.
John was next door. Harry wondered if John slept, if he could sleep. Did vampires need rest? Was he awake in the next apartment, alone and...
And these were dangerous thoughts. Harry courted trouble, he knew that, but this was something else altogether.
If he could just sleep.
Harry was collecting his mail the next time he saw John.
It was late in the afternoon and Harry hadn't been sleeping well. He was tired and nearly stumbled into the apartment building, feet shuffling along the floor. He shook out the key to his mailbox, but shook too hard. The keys slipped out of his hands and hit the floor.
Harry groaned and leaned against the wall, shutting his eyes with the cool, paint-coated plaster against his face.
He heard a sound and opened his eyes; John the friendly next-door vampire, was bending down, picking up Harry's dropped keys. He straightened and offered them to Harry, open palmed. "Mr. Dresden."
Harry caught a glimpse at the edge of a sharp canine as John spoke and couldn't stop the sharp inhale. He had a vivid sensual flashback to the physical feelings of being bitten. The initial panicked rush from being bitten, the slow, sweet lulling pushing into his skin by John's tongue, the weird, alien suction... He was flushing, neck burning red, he could feel it. "John, hi, how's... how are you?"
John smiled, teeth on clear display as he retrieved his own mail. "Nominal. And you, Mr. Dresden? You look quite peaky. Are you all right?"
Harry nodded quickly, then stopped when that made his head hurt. "Fine. S'fine, just..." He shrugged and grabbed his mail. "I'm fine."
John arched an eyebrow at him. "Did you think saying it three times would make it true?"
"I'm... tired. That's all. Haven't been sleeping well."
John nodded thoughtfully. "Are you headed upstairs?"
"Yeah."
"Let me walk you. You look ready to fall over." He beckoned Harry along, calling the elevator and ushering him inside before hitting their floor number. "I dealt with insomnia at times. Try some chamomile tea. It might help."
"Chamomile?"
"Not a tea drinker, I assume? I'll loan you some. I don't drink as much as I used to."
"I can imagine." Harry winced. "Or... no, I can't, not really. Hey, do you... sleep?"
John tipped his head to the side, eyeing Harry speculatively. "Sometimes. Why?"
He looked away sharply. "Nothin'. Just wondering."
Harry thankfully kept his mouth quiet as John walked him to his door, fetched him a box of tea, and bade him goodnight, eyes glinting green and gold in the hallway's artificial light.
OP might make a fool of herself begging for more. :)
I just love your Harry in this. Yes, he has issues, but he's sort of cute as he goes about them. It makes the inner fangirl squee with joy - because, hey, vampire next door. :D
Of course, my brain went somewhere to:
H:"Will you let me lay on your couch again?" J:...."of course." H:"I'll come over, then." J:"Right." a few minutes later: H:zzzzzzz....
The chamomile helped somewhat. It was a soothing taste and did a good job at mellowing Harry out, making him long for his bed.
But once he'd stretched out under the covers, he was stuck being incredibly tired but unable to actually sleep. His thoughts were lazy loops, no significant connections or process, just idle contemplation that pettered out before it could get anywhere.
After a while, he closed his eyes and listened, trying to hear anything. Sirens in the distance, the hum of cars going by ten floors down. Nothing next door.
He wished there was something. Footsteps, the sound of water in the pipes, a dropped object. Anything to betray whether John was awake or not.
God, what was wrong with him? So he got a bit too friendly with his neighbor during the blackout. It was one night. It shouldn't have been haunting him like this. He was a grown man, not... whatever it was that got so caught up with vampires. Teenage girls, probably. He'd seen trailers for that terrible vampire movie saga. They weren't anything like the real thing. John's skin was pale, but not so much his Italian background didn't show in the olive texture. He didn't act like an angst-filled idiot about being a vampire either. He seemed more adjusted to his life than Harry was, for god's sake. John was the very model of a responsible adult.
Just one that sometimes needed to set his mouth against someone's skin, push his teeth through, and drink long and deep--
"No, I didn't think that was a good idea for your first bite."
"Wait, so vampires do that?"
These were not calming, sleep-inducing thoughts. Harry groaned and turned over in bed, pushing his face into his pillow, trying not to think about that anymore.
He returned the box of tea to John before work the next day. "Did it help?" John asked, politely solicitous.
Harry shrugged. "Yeah?"
John's eyes were sharp on his face, on the way Harry was leaning on the door jamb. "Yes. Clearly," he said, tone lightly sarcastic.
"I'll be fine," Harry muttered, feeling oddly like he was being scolded or something.
"Yesterday you were fine. You seem to be regressing."
John, as... deeply engaging and interesting as Harry found him, was kind of a dick. "What do you want from me?"
"To sleep. Obviously." His gaze dropped down. Harry followed it to his own arm, which Harry was rubbing absentmindedly, right over the fading bite mark. He stopped as John looked at him, face blank. "Mr. Dresden..."
"I... got to open the shop," Harry blurted, backing away. "See you later. Thanks for the tea." He didn't run away, per se, but it was a close thing. Oh well, discretion was the better part of valor or whatever.
He took his lunch as the cafe across the street from his shop, a triple shot latte with a pumpernickle sandwich piled up with deli meats. He ate his sandwich, savoring the sweet and savory taste mix, then nursed his coffee with one hand, a book held open in his other. The words on the page kept jumping around though, blurring and shifting, hurting his eyes. Harry sighed, shut his eyes for just a moment.
He opened them again later when the waitress shook his shoulder and told him in a regretful voice that they were closing and that he should go home and get some sleep, you poor dear, do you need a taxi called for you?
This was getting ridiculous.
Harry stomped home, radiating surly annoyance as he walked, as he rode the Red Line, as he waited for the elevator, all of it.
He'd slept through most of his work. And he still felt exhausted, like his knees were going to buckle at any moment and spill him onto the floor. He couldn't keep going like this. He needed... something.
He fed the animals and took a shower, letting the hot water beat onto him until the tension was forced out of him. It felt good, invigorating. But when he stumbled out of the bathroom, the heat, the tiredness, it made his head spin and he fell down, down...
You just know how to make the OP grin, don't you? :)
Yes, this is stereotypical Harlequin enough to have me sitting in bed, grinning, trying not to laugh because all the other kiddies are in bed.
Also, this:
The words on the page kept jumping around though, blurring and shifting, hurting his eyes. Harry sighed, shut his eyes for just a moment.
He opened them again later when the waitress shook his shoulder and told him in a regretful voice that they were closing and that he should go home and get some sleep, you poor dear, do you need a taxi called for you?
Just had me going "awww... Harry. John should walk in on you. Right now."
And then, of course, I went straight to John finding him after Harry fainted. Asking Harry if he's still sure he's fine, and Harry telling John that yes, he's sure he's fine, he was just napping. On the bathroom floor. And wouldn't wake up.
And John totally not believing it, but playing along anyways. Maybe offering some more tea, with a bit of honey or milk if Harry's not fond of the taste...
Ooooooooooh, I'm hella late to the party, but I still very much love reading this. Is there more to John's bite than it seems? Will Harry ever ask about that unconventional first bite and ever sleep? Oh, the mysteries of Harlequins... <3
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Re: Harlequin
♪ I never should have rented this apartment in the mortal city... ♪
Re: Harlequin
(Anonymous) 2011-03-06 03:55 am (UTC)(link)"Hey, I need to borrow some batteries if you have some. You wouldn't happen to have any sugar, too, would you?"
"Uh, John, why don't you have any food in your kitchen?"
"Oh. Right. I see. I'm the food. In your kitchen."
YES, YES I WANT! :)
-OP
Re: Harlequin
Re: Harlequin
(Anonymous) 2011-03-06 04:07 am (UTC)(link)Because John as a vampire is not-so-surprisingly very hot. Especially when Harry's the one being feasted on. :)
H:"Stars, I hadn't meant 'Bite me' to be so literal."
J:"You complaining?"
H:"No."
J:"Hmmm."
H:"Do it again?"
J:*grins*
definitely not a fill
John leaned against the table separating them. Harry tried not to take an instinctive step back. Now that he knew what John was, it explained that low-key radiating sense of predator that he put off. The hurricane lamp on the table caught his eyes, making the green look flecked with inhuman gold. "And what exactly are you going to do now, Mr. Dresden?"
"I... Stars, I just wanted to borrow some candles," Harry said weakly, shoving his hands in his pockets to avoid fidgeting. "I can't believe you live here. Don't vampires haunt old castles and stuff?"
"Chicago is very suitable for someone who is sensitive to sunlight. In the winter, the weather is poor enough that cloud blocks out the sun and living in an urban canyon makes for plenty of shadows." He sounded so human, rational and normal. It was easy to ignore the sharpness of his two upper canines. Hell's bells, how had he missed that?
"Oh. Good for you?" Harry winced. "So is that a no on the candles?"
"Are you not afraid the longest you spend in my presence, the more likely you are to be hurt?"
"Are you going to kill me or turn me?" John shook his head. "Then no, not really."
"You are an incredibly reckless man."
"I just spent something like five hours in the dark. I'm a little fixated on fixed that."
Re: definitely not a fill
(Anonymous) 2011-03-06 04:29 am (UTC)(link)Poor Harry, shocked and frustrated and "is that a no on the candles?"! :) No, Harry, I don't feel sorry for you. You should tell John he can have a taste if he'll just light some candles and give you some light to work with. :) I'm sure he'll be accommodating enough then to go out and get you candles if he doesn't have any!
Thank you for this! :)
-OP (loves you)
this is still not a fill
John had the corner apartment, so he had a better view of the city than Harry did next door. While the vampire rooted took the hurricane lamp into the next room to look for a box of candles, Harry sat in the chair at the window in the pitch black and looked out.
It was strange. Chicago wasn't supposed to be this dark. There was no moon tonight and the buildings and streets were dark. In some of the windows across the street, Harry could see faintly glowing lights. Nothing electric. All soft flames in the blackout. Everything felt unbalanced.
Harry didn't know when John came back. The dark was thick, unbroken by the hurricane lamp. Harry assumed John could see in the dark and had abandoned the lamp. "It's weird," Harry murmured. "I've lived here for years. First time I've seen the stars. With all the light pollution gone, they seem really bright."
John closed in until Harry could see him out of his peripheral vision. "Hm. Strange, isn't it? It's a perfect night, but so many souls are awake," he said with equal quiet. "Even though the city itself is asleep."
Harry nodded. It was almost nice, like this. He didn't want it to last because he needed to go to work to make money to pay his rent, and that wouldn't happen with the blackout. But for the moment? It was nice.
John offered a box to Harry, presumably the candles. "Thanks. Now I can look around, see if I have anything in my kitchen that doesn't need electricity to cook."
"Hungry?"
"Starving, you? Oh." He felt his face redden. "Sorry, stupid question."
"I am," John said mildly, and Harry wished there was enough light now so he could see the vampire. "Stop it. I'm not going to bite you without your permission."
"Oh, but you would if I told you it was okay?"
"Of course."
Re: this is still not a fill
(Anonymous) 2011-03-06 04:53 am (UTC)(link)Tell you what; you can write all the non-fills you want, and I'll smile and nod and say they aren't fills while totally and not-so-secretly believing they are. :) Sound fair?
I love the quiet moment this starts out with, because it's true - without all the light pollution, the city does look different, and the sky's changed, and it's one thing to know it and another to actually see it.
Harry is also adorable in how he's so relaxed around John, but also sort of feelings out in the whole "okay, vampire. lived next to me for a while, hasn't killed me yet, what do I do now?" way, and his "I don't know if this is okay" sort of awkwardness. :)
-OP (still loves you. a lot.)
yeah yeah, Fill 3/?
At John's inquisitive eyebrow, Harry said, "Makes no sense to waste the light. Might as well share." He held out a sandwich wrapped in a paper towel. "You eat people food too?"
John stared down at the offering. "You didn't put garlic in it in some immature attempt to kill the monster next door, did you? Because I don't appreciate such cliches."
"Pastrami and provolone on white, I promise."
So somehow they ended up on the sofa eating. John only had one half of his sandwich, claiming to not require more fuel than that. Harry would've questioned further, but he was hungry and glad to have more for himself.
It was getting cold. Chicago in late winter was chilly and the A/Cs had been out for almost a day now. Harry was dressed warmly, but the temperature continued to drop. John eyed him keenly as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "A moment," he said, then left the room, steps certain in the black.
John brought a thick blanket back, handing it off to Harry. It was cushy in his hands, likely a comforter of some sort. He thanked John and nudged off his shoes, curling his legs up on the sofa and laying the blanket over him. "Lemme guess, you don't do the whole cold thing?"
"Correct," John said, taking his seat next to Harry again. "I feel heat and cold, but it doesn't hurt me as it does you. I don't have need to keep my core temperature around 98.6 as you do."
"How'd it... happen? Have you been alive for centuries or something?"
John smiled, sharp teeth unabashedly on display. "No. I was overseas with my troop on a peacekeeping operation about... fifteen years ago, I suppose. I worked closely with our local liaison and translator. We became friendly."
"And he bit you?"
"He saved my life. I'd taken a bullet and was bleeding out. He turned me so I wouldn't die."
"Oh." Harry went quiet again, looking down at the blanket. He caught some frayed threads between his fingers and started braiding them absently. "I'm... sorry? I guess? I'm not sure what to say."
The vampire shrugged. "It's fine. I haven't lived long enough to be discontent with my supernatural immunity. I'm fine with my situation."
John, the friendly neighborhood super-well-adjusted vampire. Harry shook his head, smiling.
Fill 4/?
And John was good at quiet. Harry was aware of his neighbor before today, but didn't really know him. Yet they were already getting really good at comfortable silence. Usually you had to know someone for a while before you could resist the impulse to fill any gap in the conversation with noise. But here, in the dark peacefulness?
So Harry was surprised when John stood up and went to the window, movements quick and lacking his usual grace. "You should leave."
Harry lifted his head from where it'd been resting on the arm of the sofa. He'd been working steadily towards a nap. "What?"
"Go back to your apartment." His tone was hard, but lightened when John glanced sideways to smirk at Harry. "You can borrow the blanket. Just give it back later."
"Did I do something wrong?" He tried not to sound like he was whining. It was just that he was looking forward to that nap. It was hard to sleep in his own apartment, alone in the blackout. There was that creepy paranoia that someone might break in while he was sleeping.
"Not expressly. But you're still here," John said, giving Harry a significant look.
"Okay?"
He snorted. "I'm getting hungry, Mr. Dresden. My iron control has its limits. One such limit is sharing my space with a... with you."
Harry sat up straighter. "With a what?"
"Best I don't answer that. You wouldn't understand." His smile turned somewhat bitter.
"Try me. I mean, I haven't felt the urge to search for any sharp, stake-shaped objects yet." He knew he sounded defensive there. But he hadn't done anything to make John think he wasn't okay with the vampire thing. The cageyness was bothering him.
John slinked back over to the sofa, leaning down with one hand on the armrest. "With a warm, hot-blooded man who is falling asleep on my sofa." His eyes gleamed in the dark, almost glowing. "Do you know why vampires tend bite people as they sleep?"
Harry put all of his focus on not moving away, pressing back into the cushion. He had asked. "No?"
John bent further down and inhaled deeply. Then he grinned, something wild to the look on his face. "Sweeter taste. And the melatonin is rather nice. Mellow and heady." His breath gusted over Harry's mouth.
In the next instant, he stood up straight and backed away. "Clear enough, Harry?"
Harry swallowed thickly. "Cr-crystal."
fill 5/?
"So," Harry asked, loudly cutting through the silence. "How often does someone give you permission?"
John turned very slowly to Harry, face pulled into a confused grimace. "Come again?"
"You said you don't snack without permission. How often do you get permission?"
John stared at him for a long moment. "Less often than I'd like," he answered carefully.
"And you can bite someone and not turn them?" Informed consent was a good thing. Harry read about it in a magazine once.
John took one step forward, then seemed to change his mind and backed away again. "It takes concerted effort to turn someone. It's not something down lightly or by accident."
Harry nodded, mulling that over. "Okay. Cool." He shifted on the sofa, laying his head back down and pulling the comforter more snugly around himself. "I might doze off for a bit."
"I... all right." He sounded very uncertain.
"I'm just saying. I know the risks and I'm okay with them." He shut his eyes pointedly and relaxed into the couch, into that electric feeling of being safe in a monster's den.
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(Anonymous) - 2011-03-06 15:36 (UTC) - ExpandRe: fill 5/?
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Fill 6/7 probably
It might've been the grip around his wrist that woke him up, a cool-skinned, stern hold. It was that or the small, sharp pain in his arm. He instinctively tried to pull his arm away from the hurt, but it was held fast and he couldn't manage it. "Hey, ow."
John withdrew his mouth from Harry's arm. "Did I misunderstand you, Mr. Dresden?" When Harry just blinked blurrily at him, he elaborated, "Permission, Harry."
"Oh. Uh, yeah." Harry nodded slowly, eyes locked to John's mouth. It descended on his arm again and there was that pain again, where teeth were opening two cuts. John broke the skin, then licked broadly over the marks.
That was weird. Harry frowned as the pain faded to numbness, a warm, dreamy feeling replacing it. "What..."
"Low-grade narcotic effect. Meant to placate prey," John explained readily. "It'll fade." And he ducked his head, licked over Harry's arm again, and then wrapped his lips around the bite mark. There was a pull, and...
Harry lay his head back on the sofa, gasping. He could feel John doing his vampire thing, but it was all mixed up in his head. He felt the suction, a faint flare of pain when John's tongue touched the punctures in Harry's skin, but it was getting lost in the distant numbness and the drowsy leftovers of sleep. It was some crazy dissonance, watching through half-lidded eyes as John set his mouth on Harry's arm and drank deep.
Maybe he should have worried over how much blood he was giving up. Maybe he should have told John to stop. Maybe...
Maybe he'd just sag back into the sofa and let himself float for a while. Because when Harry Dresden went looking for trouble, he did it was a single-minded determination that was almost admirable.
writing at 2:45 AM = lots of sleep imagery
Fill 7/7
The next thing he did was notice the sun was shining on his face. It took a few long seconds for the implications of that to sink in, but then he opened his eyes and looked around. It didn't take long to locate John; he was laying on the cushions behind Harry, squeezed between him and the sofa back.
Barely thinking, Harry grabbed the comforter and pulled it over both of them, blocking out the rising sun.
John's eyes opened, taking in Harry holding the blanket over them like a shield. "Harry."
"Sun's up."
"My windows are all tinted to hold out the worst of the UV light. I do live here, you know," he chided, a smile curving his lips.
That made sense, Harry conceded. He lowered the comforter. "So." Where to even start? There was a weird intimacy to having had a vampire feed on you. Harry's wasn't sure what to do with that.
"Breakfast? I think it's customary to cook after you've had someone over."
Harry's eyes widened. "You didn't... we didn't..." He made a gesture between them.
John rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't think that was a good idea for your first bite."
"Wait, so vampires do that?" He tried not to sound too appalled.
The vampire pushed himself up to sitting. "I would explain the basic connection between blood and sex, but you don't look quite up for it." He reached out and took Harry's hand. There was an ace bandage taped to his arm, neat and clean. John examined it carefully. He nodded, satisfied. Maybe vampires were big on taking care of their meals. Thoughtful, in an insane way. "Shall we see if any food is surviving the blackout?"
Harry let John lead him to the kitchen, wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into this time.
I've now written Harlequin vampire romance. Okay then. :goes to bed:
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More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 1/?
The power outage resolved itself eventually. Chicago lit up again by the next evening and the phone lines ended up tied up for hours as people called each other to confirm safety. The TV talked about the scattered looting, the cops who'd run themselves ragged trying to keep order, and the mayor making a statement explaining how the blackout occurred and the steps being taken to prevent another such event.
It was like coming out of a long sleep. People left in the morning to go to work, blinking up at the winter sun as if it had gone out during the blackout too.
Harry went to work, settled back into routine. Opening the shop, dealing with a few customers, reading a magazine behind the counter in the long stretches of time when the shop was empty, pointing a few people towards Bock's shop when he didn't have what they needed.
He went home, fed the pets, fed himself, and slept.
Or tried to. Buried under blankets with Mister laying on his back, purring loudly, Harry just stared at the wall. Tired, but unable to fall asleep, he lifted his arm in the pale light of the moon and looked at the two dark pink marks on his forearm.
John was next door. Harry wondered if John slept, if he could sleep. Did vampires need rest? Was he awake in the next apartment, alone and...
And these were dangerous thoughts. Harry courted trouble, he knew that, but this was something else altogether.
If he could just sleep.
Harry was collecting his mail the next time he saw John.
It was late in the afternoon and Harry hadn't been sleeping well. He was tired and nearly stumbled into the apartment building, feet shuffling along the floor. He shook out the key to his mailbox, but shook too hard. The keys slipped out of his hands and hit the floor.
Harry groaned and leaned against the wall, shutting his eyes with the cool, paint-coated plaster against his face.
He heard a sound and opened his eyes; John the friendly next-door vampire, was bending down, picking up Harry's dropped keys. He straightened and offered them to Harry, open palmed. "Mr. Dresden."
Harry caught a glimpse at the edge of a sharp canine as John spoke and couldn't stop the sharp inhale. He had a vivid sensual flashback to the physical feelings of being bitten. The initial panicked rush from being bitten, the slow, sweet lulling pushing into his skin by John's tongue, the weird, alien suction... He was flushing, neck burning red, he could feel it. "John, hi, how's... how are you?"
John smiled, teeth on clear display as he retrieved his own mail. "Nominal. And you, Mr. Dresden? You look quite peaky. Are you all right?"
Harry nodded quickly, then stopped when that made his head hurt. "Fine. S'fine, just..." He shrugged and grabbed his mail. "I'm fine."
John arched an eyebrow at him. "Did you think saying it three times would make it true?"
"I'm... tired. That's all. Haven't been sleeping well."
John nodded thoughtfully. "Are you headed upstairs?"
"Yeah."
"Let me walk you. You look ready to fall over." He beckoned Harry along, calling the elevator and ushering him inside before hitting their floor number. "I dealt with insomnia at times. Try some chamomile tea. It might help."
"Chamomile?"
"Not a tea drinker, I assume? I'll loan you some. I don't drink as much as I used to."
"I can imagine." Harry winced. "Or... no, I can't, not really. Hey, do you... sleep?"
John tipped his head to the side, eyeing Harry speculatively. "Sometimes. Why?"
He looked away sharply. "Nothin'. Just wondering."
Harry thankfully kept his mouth quiet as John walked him to his door, fetched him a box of tea, and bade him goodnight, eyes glinting green and gold in the hallway's artificial light.
Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 1/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-18 04:30 am (UTC)(link)I just love your Harry in this. Yes, he has issues, but he's sort of cute as he goes about them. It makes the inner fangirl squee with joy - because, hey, vampire next door. :D
Of course, my brain went somewhere to:
H:"Will you let me lay on your couch again?"
J:...."of course."
H:"I'll come over, then."
J:"Right."
a few minutes later:
H:zzzzzzz....
Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 1/?
More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
But once he'd stretched out under the covers, he was stuck being incredibly tired but unable to actually sleep. His thoughts were lazy loops, no significant connections or process, just idle contemplation that pettered out before it could get anywhere.
After a while, he closed his eyes and listened, trying to hear anything. Sirens in the distance, the hum of cars going by ten floors down. Nothing next door.
He wished there was something. Footsteps, the sound of water in the pipes, a dropped object. Anything to betray whether John was awake or not.
God, what was wrong with him? So he got a bit too friendly with his neighbor during the blackout. It was one night. It shouldn't have been haunting him like this. He was a grown man, not... whatever it was that got so caught up with vampires. Teenage girls, probably. He'd seen trailers for that terrible vampire movie saga. They weren't anything like the real thing. John's skin was pale, but not so much his Italian background didn't show in the olive texture. He didn't act like an angst-filled idiot about being a vampire either. He seemed more adjusted to his life than Harry was, for god's sake. John was the very model of a responsible adult.
Just one that sometimes needed to set his mouth against someone's skin, push his teeth through, and drink long and deep--
"No, I didn't think that was a good idea for your first bite."
"Wait, so vampires do that?"
These were not calming, sleep-inducing thoughts. Harry groaned and turned over in bed, pushing his face into his pillow, trying not to think about that anymore.
He returned the box of tea to John before work the next day. "Did it help?" John asked, politely solicitous.
Harry shrugged. "Yeah?"
John's eyes were sharp on his face, on the way Harry was leaning on the door jamb. "Yes. Clearly," he said, tone lightly sarcastic.
"I'll be fine," Harry muttered, feeling oddly like he was being scolded or something.
"Yesterday you were fine. You seem to be regressing."
John, as... deeply engaging and interesting as Harry found him, was kind of a dick. "What do you want from me?"
"To sleep. Obviously." His gaze dropped down. Harry followed it to his own arm, which Harry was rubbing absentmindedly, right over the fading bite mark. He stopped as John looked at him, face blank. "Mr. Dresden..."
"I... got to open the shop," Harry blurted, backing away. "See you later. Thanks for the tea." He didn't run away, per se, but it was a close thing. Oh well, discretion was the better part of valor or whatever.
He took his lunch as the cafe across the street from his shop, a triple shot latte with a pumpernickle sandwich piled up with deli meats. He ate his sandwich, savoring the sweet and savory taste mix, then nursed his coffee with one hand, a book held open in his other. The words on the page kept jumping around though, blurring and shifting, hurting his eyes. Harry sighed, shut his eyes for just a moment.
He opened them again later when the waitress shook his shoulder and told him in a regretful voice that they were closing and that he should go home and get some sleep, you poor dear, do you need a taxi called for you?
This was getting ridiculous.
Harry stomped home, radiating surly annoyance as he walked, as he rode the Red Line, as he waited for the elevator, all of it.
He'd slept through most of his work. And he still felt exhausted, like his knees were going to buckle at any moment and spill him onto the floor. He couldn't keep going like this. He needed... something.
He fed the animals and took a shower, letting the hot water beat onto him until the tension was forced out of him. It felt good, invigorating. But when he stumbled out of the bathroom, the heat, the tiredness, it made his head spin and he fell down, down...
[this stereotypical Harlequin enough? OH FAINTING OH! :swoon:]
Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
*will not laugh at Harry, will NOT*
Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-18 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)(Yes. The fainting. You should see my big ass shit eating grin.)
Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-18 07:57 pm (UTC)(link)Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-18 09:27 pm (UTC)(link)Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-19 01:18 am (UTC)(link)Yes, this is stereotypical Harlequin enough to have me sitting in bed, grinning, trying not to laugh because all the other kiddies are in bed.
Also, this:
The words on the page kept jumping around though, blurring and shifting, hurting his eyes. Harry sighed, shut his eyes for just a moment.
He opened them again later when the waitress shook his shoulder and told him in a regretful voice that they were closing and that he should go home and get some sleep, you poor dear, do you need a taxi called for you?
Just had me going "awww... Harry. John should walk in on you. Right now."
And then, of course, I went straight to John finding him after Harry fainted. Asking Harry if he's still sure he's fine, and Harry telling John that yes, he's sure he's fine, he was just napping. On the bathroom floor. And wouldn't wake up.
And John totally not believing it, but playing along anyways. Maybe offering some more tea, with a bit of honey or milk if Harry's not fond of the taste...
Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-03-28 12:06 pm (UTC)(link)Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?
(Anonymous) 2011-05-08 02:01 pm (UTC)(link)-OP
Re: More silly vampire Harlequin fluff 2/?