Preston's Story
Dec. 25th, 2007 05:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrI'm not even pretending this story has any point. I care not. It was fun to write, and a nonstressful way to spend Christmas ^^;
So, I hope it is at least amusing to read.
And using this icon, I have to say I've not forgotten the drabbles owed. Believe me *knows she sucks*
Preston stifled a yawn as he leaned against the back of the elevator, staring blearily at the numbers across the top. When 32 lit up, he forced himself to stand and move, half walking, half stumbling out of the elevator and into the hallway outside the penthouse suite of Alessandro Gentile.
He rang the buzzer and gave in to the next yawn as the door opened. Nodding absently to the vamp who opened the door, he strode through a living room that cost more than his entire house, down the hallway to the master bedroom all the way at the end.
Given the hour, he didn't think he was obligated to knock. Pushing the bedroom door open, he padded inside, brown eyes immediately going to the plush sitting chair by the floor to ceiling windows on the north side of the room.
The man who occupied it was tall and slender, black hair and beautiful green eyes. He was handsome, and perhaps only the shadows in his eyes gave away that he was far more than the forty he appeared. "It's three in the morning, 'Sandro."
"Yes, I can see it is," Alessandro said with a smirk, eyes dragging slowly down and even more slowly back up Preston's body. "Did you walk through the city dressed like that? I'm amazed you weren't…delayed."
Preston glared, pointedly ignoring his unsubtle looks. He was not in the mood to put up with this. He wanted to go back to bed, not sort out yet another damned hissy fit between Alessandro and Tremont.
Honestly. It was his personal opinion that they should either kill or fuck each other. Sadly, they tended to vehemently ignore this advice. The latter suggestion tended also to get him in deep shit. He still thought it valid.
"I'm supposed to make certain you're not breaking laws," he said irritably. "I'm not your babysitter."
"A pity," Alessandro said with a smirk and another unsubtle look.
"Knock it off," Preston replied. "I'm really not in the mood for your games. It's three in the fucking morning, in case I didn't already make that clear. What the fuck couldn't wait until a decent hour?"
Alessandro smirked. "Oh, he stole another human. I thought you'd prefer I call you this time rather than your brother, though he's awfully cute when he's all pissy. How are he and his little dhampir?"
Preston groaned and moved to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it and burying his face in his hands. "This is why you woke me up? I was warm and comfortable and asleep, Sandro."
"Poor hunter," Alessandro said, standing up and crossing the room and Preston suddenly realized sitting down on his bed had not been the brightest idea ever. He stood hastily up, moving away and giving Alessandro a warning glare. "I told you I wasn't in the mood for your games."
Alessandro stroked his cheek. "Whoever said it was a game?"
"Oh, please," Preston said jerking away. "I'm really not in the mood for vampire shenanigans." He pushed Alessandro away and stole the vacated chair. "If you would stop flaunting your little snacks in his face just to piss him off, he wouldn't feel obliged to steal them to piss you off. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with the two of you?"
He closed his eyes and rest his head against the back of the chair, wishing he was still dead asleep in bed.
Instead, he was sitting in the bedroom of a top vampire. In his pajamas. Listening to a vampire roughly four hundred years old whine like a fifteen year old.
The soft brush of feet on carpet alerted him, then he suddenly felt warm fingers on his face, stroking slowly down to his neck.
Sometimes he envied his brothers. Billie and Locke spent their days killing vamps that were better off dead – or averages that broke too many laws. Preston had chosen to go the way of his uncle, dealing with the tricky tops. Life wasn't so black and white here. Laws were broken constantly, lines crossed with impunity.
His chin was lightly grasped, face tilted up, and he slowly opened his eyes as Alessandro kissed his cheeks softly. "Sandro," he said in warning.
A warning blithely ignored as Alessandro kissed him softly, slowly.
It was times like this he really envied his brothers. Vampires were monsters to them.
Preston only ever saw about a million different headaches. Tops were nothing like the broken and average vamps his brothers killed. Tops were something else altogether.
He turned his head away, breaking the lingering kiss. "If you want a human, vampire, go rescue your damned toy from Tremont. I won't say it again – I'm not in the mood for your games."
That's all they were, no matter what the vamps said. Games. Predators only played with their food when they had every intention of killing it. It drove him crazy, constantly being a source of amusement for the vamps he kept an eye on.
He stood up again, fighting another yawn. "I'll go get your damned toy back, Sandro. Stay here and out of trouble." Not giving Alessandro a chance to reply, he strode from the room, back the way he'd come, rubbing his eyes as he pondered whether or not it was worth it to go back to his apartment to get dressed.
His lips tingled; they always did when Alessandro stole a kiss. Damn it.
Veering left outside, he strode back to his apartment to fetch proper clothes.
Several hours later, in jeans and t-shirt, he let himself into Tremont's apartment.
He rolled his eyes as the first thing he saw was Tremont snacking on a pretty little redhead. Tremont didn't like redheads, except when he stole them from Alessandro. "Tremont, grow up."
"No," Tremont said, licking a bit of blood from his lips as he pushed the redhead away. "I'll stop being difficult when he stops being a prick."
Preston rolled his eyes. "I so cannot wait for the day the two of you finally kill each other."
"I do not see that happening," Tremont said idly, lying back on the long, wrap around leather couch that took up most of his living room. "Did he wake you up in the middle of the night, hunter? I would apologize, but you look even prettier rumpled than you do nice and tidy."
"I will hurt you," Preston said. "He woke me up at three in the morning because you decided to be an asshole. You're both assholes. No, you're both children. What is the fucking point of all this and why must you constantly drag me into it?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Honestly, it's no wonder Uncle Vincent turned into a bloody alcoholic."
"Alcohol," Tremont said with a grimace. "Disgusting." He smirked, and gave Preston the same slow perusal that Alessandro had several hours earlier. "Except, of course, for a good red wine."
Preston did not bother to respond to that. Like any good hunter, he made certain he smelled good to a vampire. No vampire, broken, top, or whatever, liked to waste a good meal – even if said meal was a hunter. It made them think twice, if only on a subconscious level, and that moment of hesitation could make all the difference in the world.
Even if, in Preston's case, all it really got him most of the time was sexual harassment.
He moved to the couch, standing over Tremont, glaring at him. "Are you done for now?" he asked. "Can I take the toy back to Alessandro?"
"Maybe," Tremont said lazily, slowly opening his eyes, pushing loose strands of red-brown hair from his face. Behind the messy hair, his eyes were the color of brown sugar, warm and soft while Tremont was fed and sated. Nothing like the plain brown of Preston's eyes, or as brilliant as Alessandro's green eyes – but both vamps had a tendency to make it hard to break eye contact.
Preston had seen those soft brown eyes hard and cold, and likely would again. For now, though, Tremont might be pliable. He was dressed casually in jeans and a white oxford, the top three buttons undone. Unlike Alessandro's sparse build, Tremont had a bit of meat to him, just enough to escape being described as skinny.
Quick as lightning, and Preston chalked it up to sleep deprivation that he hadn't anticipated it, Tremont yanked him down. Preston landed with a grunt on top of Tremont, glaring angrily. "Let me up, bloodsucker. Now."
"Oh, now, calling me names won't get you anywhere." Tremont lapped lazily at his lips, and Preston struggled to remain unaffected. He had to remain unaffected. But where Alessandro's stolen kisses always tingled, Tremont's burned. "You should take a nap, hunter. Driving as tired as you are…we wouldn't want an accident to ruin your pretty face."
Preston got his hands free and managed to pinch Tremont hard – just enough to annoy him a bit. "I liked you better when you were injured," he said. "Maybe I should get Key to shoot you again."
"Oh, shut up," Tremont said, and pushed him off so that Preston landed in an awkward heap on the floor. "Take the damned toy, then. Alessandro has terrible taste in snacks. Too much junk food, that one. His blood tastes too fatty and sweet." He propped himself on his elbow, staring down at Preston with a smirk. "Unlike you. What I wouldn't give for a taste of you, hunter."
"Yeah, yeah," Preston muttered, picking himself up slowly. "I'd take it as a compliment, except not." He strode to the armchair where the redhead was sitting, still and almost asleep. Thoroughly doped by the vamps, then. Preston was glad he was immune to that – one of the traits of a hunter. If you couldn’t look a top vamp in the eyes, there was no sense in being a hunter. He gently tugged the young man to his feet.
Most hunters, having to deal with this sort of thing, would shoot and never bother to ask questions. Preston had gotten used to it. Vamps needed to eat, and he could hardly bitch when in the end no real harm was done. Not like the vamps Locke regularly gunned down.
It would be a day or two until the redhead came out of his doze, and whenever Alessandro finally tired of him, he would not remember anything of his time as a vampire snack.
"I swear to god if the two of you do anything for the next seventy two hours, I will string you up by your balls and report your asses. Understood?"
Tremont motioned lazily from where he was clearly settling down into a daze. "Yes, hunter. Tell that prick to stop annoying me, and I will stop taking his treats."
"It seems me the two of you could bother to sit down and discuss things," Preston said sourly. "Do you even know why you hate each other?"
"Oh, I hardly remember the original reason," Tremont said with laugh. "These days, it's entirely on principle. He's easy to hate, I assure you. Run along, hunter, before Alessandro gets too impatient and deprives you of more sleep."
Muttering sourly about his thoughts on top vamps, Preston half led, half dragged the doped redhead to the elevator.
*~*~*
He stared into his drink with disinterest. It was the best of red wines, the kind he hated drinking because he knew he wasn't appreciating it properly. Fighting an urge to tug at the collar of his tux, he pushed through the last bit of the crowd onto the balcony.
The night air was cold this high up, a nice break from the stifling heat inside.
What he wanted was a nice beer and something identifiable to eat. He hated coming to California. Every single time he came, there was a party he had to attend to make certain the tops under his charge weren't doing anything they shouldn't.
Or rather, that they weren't doing too much that they shouldn't.
He sighed and took another sip of wine. It would do wonders for his blood, but that was poor consolation at the moment – even in a room full of vampires.
"You are not enjoying yourself?"
The voice was a dark purr, and Preston had seen its owner seduce everything under the sun and moon, from human right up to fellow vampires. He had heard more than a few stories about Richard Freeman's conquests.
To him, the voice was nails on a chalkboard. He was taunting, mocking, condescending and occasionally cruel.
He was in charge of a baker's dozen of top vamps, scattered throughout the country. Of those, he hated two, was fine with nine…and didn't know what to do with the remaining two.
Richard was one of the hated.
Preston stepped away from the hand that settled at the small of his back. "You know I hate your parties, Richard. If I thought you actually cared enough to bother, I'd swear you always have them during my visits just to piss me off."
"Mmm," Richard said, dark brown eyes nearly black. "Maybe I do it because I like seeing you all dressed up…though I confess your rougher garb holds some strange appeal of its own." He reached up touch Preston's cheek, digging his nails in lightly. There was a hint of teeth in his smile, and Preston repressed a sigh. "You do seem moody tonight, hunter."
"I'm tired of parties," Preston replied. "I came to check up on you, not baby-sit you all night. Tops are all children."
Richard laughed. "Now, now. Do not group all of us with those bickering nitwits on the east coast, hunter. That's not very fair of you."
"What do you call your behavior then?" Preston snapped. Honestly.
"An attempt to overcome a challenge," Richard said, and Preston grunted as he suddenly found himself pressed up against the balcony. Warm lips brushed across his cheek, along his jaw, and down his throat.
Preston put up with it; vampires and their stupid games.
Then he felt teeth. No.
Nothing seemed noticeably to change, but Richard abruptly went still.
"You're going too far," Preston said coldly, digging his knife in just enough to break skin. "Take a bite, and it's the last bite you'll get, blood sucker."
Richard laughed, but eased back. "It would be a fine way to go, hunter."
"Shut up," Preston said, and sheathed the long, silver knife he'd pulled from within his jacket. There were times he missed the days when his family had carried swords. Most of the family used guns, but those were too flashy for his work. Silver blades were his specialty, even if he couldn't actually carry any of the swords he'd learned so assiduously growing up. "You would think that after five hundred years, you might have acquired more manners."
He touched his throat lightly, frowning as his fingers came away bloody. "You are crossing lines you should not be crossing, blood sucker."
"Perhaps you should not come in here smelling like an invitation," Richard snapped. "You are lucky every vampire in here fears me more than they lust after you."
"Lust, no. Hunger, yes," Preston snapped. "Stop throwing a damned party every time—" He was cut off as his phone started ringing.
The ring was all too familiar, and brought with it the usual mix of annoyance, exasperation…and things upon which he preferred not to dwell. He yanked the phone from his pocket and flipped it open. "What?" Snapping it shut a second later, he pushed past Richard and back into the room proper, heading straight for the front room and his coat.
"You indulge those two far too much," Richard said from behind him.
Preston rolled his eyes. "I put up with you just as much," he snapped, fingers going to the light wound at his neck. "Even I, however, have my limits. Do not attempt to bite me again, Richard." Turning sharply on his heel, he stalked from the room.
He just barely caught Richard's parting words as the elevator doors slid shut.
"Next time, I won't attempt."
Rolling his eyes, Preston hailed a taxi on the street and asked the driver to take him to the airport.
"I swear to god, your only goal in this century is to deprive me of as much sleep as possible," Preston groused.
Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't for Tremont to slam his glass down and stalk across the room looking as though he'd like to hit someone.
"Richard bit you," he snarled.
Preston blinked, and held up his hands in a sleepy effort to ward Tremont off. "I took care of—"
Honestly. He really was tired of being sleep deprived. It made him do stupid things. Like let Richard almost bite him. And Tremont kiss him.
Tremont tasted like blood, but only faintly. It was, if Preston had not lost track of his days, about a week still before Tremont would feel like feeding again. Clashing with the copper tang was something faintly sweet. The flavor, Preston often thought, of spoiled brat.
He pushed Tremont away after a moment, summoning a glare. "As I was trying to say, I took care of it. What is it with you bloodsuckers tonight?" He sighed and strode to the couch, dropping down without ceremony to stretch out, burying his face in one folded arm, the other draping over the side of the couch.
A hand settled on his head, and he felt Tremont settle beside him on the floor.
Sighing, Preston forced his eyes open, turning his head to look. "What?"
"You look awful, hunter."
"No shit," Preston snapped. "Being a hunter is supposed to be difficult, not a constant state of fucking misery. What the hell are you and Sandro up to now? I'd had three hours of sleep when Richard dragged me to his damn party, I was nearly bitten, then suddenly I have to spend seven hours going from California to here and you tell me I look awful? Fuck you." He buried his head in his arms again.
Fingers, long and thin and warm, stroked through his short-cropped hair, caressing lightly over the back of his neck before tracing the length of his spine. "Ah, hunter. I fear we are over fond of you."
Preston snorted at that. "Whatever," he said with a yawn. "What the hell did you want?"
"Perhaps it can wait a bit," Tremont said with a faint smile – rare for him. Tremont was better at frowning or pouting than smiling. "You should rest. I like to bend my pretty hunter, not break."
"Not yours," Preston muttered.
The fingers on his back suddenly pressed hard enough to hurt. Preston jerked in surprise and looked up. "What?"
"To whom do you belong?" Tremont asked coldly.
"No one," Preston snapped. "I belong to myself, because I'm too fucking busy babysitting goddamn vamps who wake me up and summon me from across the fucking country all because they're so wrapped up in pissing each other off they don't care how that behavior affects everyone around them. I don't belong to anyone because I'm too busy catering to your pissing contests."
Too angry now to hold still, Preston stood and stalked to the door. "I don't give a fuck what's wrong this time. Fix it yourself. If you spill too much blood I'll have your permits revoked." Yanking the door open, he stalked to the elevator and mashed the button.
He yelped as he was abruptly yanked back, oofing as his forehead collided with Tremont's jaw. "Let me go," he said when he was reasonably certain of his balance.
Instead Tremont kissed him again. Preston attempted to struggle free, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best and he knew it. He moaned softly as he let the kiss go deep, holding fast to Tremont's upper arms.
The thought of what his family would do if they caught him kissing vampires was enough to make his blood freeze, but he would be lying if he said Tremont's kiss wasn't devastating.
He pushed Tremont away after a moment, and reached out blindly to mash the elevator button again. "Did you take another toy, Tremont?"
"He took mine actually," Tremont said. "You should stay and rest, hunter."
Preston shook his head. "No. I'm not going to get any dumber, and I'm tired of being toyed with." That's all he was, and he needed to remember that. Hadn't his uncle said that was the hardest part of their job? Keeping the distance, because tops liked to cross lines and break rules – and play with their hunters.
He ignored Tremont's calling his name, stepping into the elevator before he could be snatched back again. The doors closed with a chime, and he let out a long sigh.
Several hours and a great many cups of coffee later, he let himself into Alessandro's penthouse.
Alessandro was waiting for him, looking like a cat that still had feathers clinging to his mouth. His smirk, however, faded as Preston drew close. "You look terrible, hunter."
"Yeah, I wonder why?" Preston snapped. "No fucking thanks to you, I'm pushing twenty four hours without sleep. Where the fuck is Tremont's toy?"
Instead of answering, Alessandro glared. "Richard bit you."
"He nipped me, and that has nothing to do with this. I can fucking take care of myself." Preston grimaced at himself. He was obviously exhausted if he was cussing more and more. "Give up the damned toy."
Alessandro yanked him close, fingers going immediately to the livid red marks on his neck. "You are not his to touch," he growled, fingers tightening around Preston's throat, not quite enough to hurt.
"I'm not yours either," Preston snapped.
"Hmm," Alessandro said, frowning.
He about to be kissed, and Preston suddenly didn't want to deal with it. Tremont's kisses still weighed heavily on his mind, and he knew all too well how Alessandro's would feel.
Tired and tired of it.
He shoved Alessandro away, somewhat gratified at the look of surprise on the too-handsome face. "I'm not yours. I'm not Tremont's. I'm not Richard's. I'm just a fucking hunter, and while I know being manhandled comes with the territory – that doesn't mean I belong to anyone. I have no interest in being a drained corpse somewhere, and I certainly have no interest in being the snack you and Tremont steal back and forth. Go to hell. Give Tremont's toy back, and you can both stop fucking calling me over your asinine squabbles."
Turning sharply around, he stalked to the door.
A hand landed on his shoulder and that was finally enough. Snapping around, the flash of light on silver was the only warning Alessandro got before Preston shoved him back against the nearest wall with sharp silver pressed against his throat, another one jabbing at his gut. "I've had it, vampire," he snarled. "Just because I play along doesn't mean I'm your damned toy. Leave. Me. Alone. Understand?"
Alessandro nodded as best he could with a knife to his throat.
Preston stowed the knives as quickly as he'd drawn them, then once more turned away to leave.
He was so fucking done with this shit.
*~*~*
Twenty nine missed calls from Alessandro. Twenty nine from Tremont.
Preston sighed and set his phone back down on the nighstand. To hell with them. Regulations said he had to check on the bastards once a month. He generally saw them at least once a week. That meant he could keep right on ignoring them for a bit. Two weeks, and he was perfectly happy to go two more at least.
Except, maybe, for the part where he was barely sleeping.
Nothing new about that, he supposed.
Sighing, Preston sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He glanced at the alarm clock: 1:00 AM.
Obviously he wasn't getting much sleep tonight either. Ah, well. By now Richard's stupid party should be over. Why not make a surprise visit?
Standing, he stripped off his sleep pants and wife beater, tugging on jeans and t-shirt. From the chair in the corner of his small, stale hotel room he retrieved his knife belts. The longest of his knives rest right between his shoulder blades. Two more rest at the small of his back, with small daggers strapped to each forearm.
Silver gleamed in the light from the streetlamps slipping through the curtains before he sheathed them. Shrugging into a lightweight leather jacket, he sat down to pull on his boots, then snatched up his keys and wallet.
The night was nice, probably too warm for his jacket but he preferred not to flash his blades if he could help it. A night like this…
Preston shook his head irritably. It didn't matter. He was a hunter. A top level hunter, at that. Precious few of those managed any sort of personal life. He'd known that full and well when he'd decided to be the most difficult type of hunter.
It was quiet. Too quiet. Preston was torn between heaving a sigh and rolling his eyes.
Instead he settled for slowing down and nicking his arm. In the dark, his blood was a black smudge on gleaming silver.
He stopped at an intersection, right beneath a streetlight and a worn out bus stop sign. Waited, hands itching for blades. Better to do without for now, but they itched all the same.
Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. What he did see and smell surprised him, however. He'd expected an average, a lackey sent by either Sandro or Tremont.
He hadn't expected Richard.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"You didn't come to my party," Richard said.
Preston snatched his hand out of reach when Richard made a grab at it. He stuck his wrist in his mouth, licking away the drying blood there. "Why are you tailing me, Richard? I was on my way to see you."
"Rumor has it you're avoiding your tops, hunter."
"What I do or don't do is none of your business. I'm the one who keeps an eye on your life, not the other way around. You should not be out at this hour; any low level hunter out and about would be perfectly within his rights to regard you as a threat. I'm regarding you as a threat."
Richard smirked and moved a little closer. "You didn't come to my party; I thought you might be ignoring me too…but I was informed you were here, and came to see you for myself…so are you choosing me over those idiots on the east coast? California is much nicer."
Preston was getting a headache. "Choose? What in the hell are you talking about? Do vampires live for centuries just to perfect the art of being confusing and annoying?"
He jerked away and stepped back as Richard tried to touch him. "I am really not in the mood to play games, Richard. What the fuck do you want?"
"I would think that obvious, hunter," Richard said, a telltale gleam to his eyes.
Preston flexed his hands, ready to draw his knives in a moment. "Back the fuck off, bloodsucker. I’m not on your menu and you know damn good and well what will happen if you try to make me one."
Richard snarled and suddenly was close. Preston twisted away, drawing a knife, swinging up to catch Richard across the chest.
"Back off," he said. "I don't like you much, but I sure as fuck don't want to kill you."
"I don't want you for a meal, you stupid human," Richard said. "Don't you get that?" He grimaced in pain at the wound across his chest. A minor scratch, really, but the silver left a lingering burn. "I'd much rather fuck you than eat you, though I wouldn't mind both."
Preston would have rolled his eyes if he dared take them off Richard for a single second. "Whatever. I'm sick of telling you vamps I'm not one of your goddamn toys. I'm perfectly within my rights to kill you if you keep this shit up, Richard, and we both know I can." Five hundred years didn't mean the vampire had all the tricks.
"You have only yourself to blame for being both edible and stubborn. All the vamps you watch, you never paid any mind except to those two and me."
"You're an asshole, and one who has come close to losing his permit more than once – just in the last century," Preston snapped.
Richard took a step closer, but held his hands up in surrender when Preston lifted his knives in warning. "So why did you come here after blowing off those nitwits? I had hoped you were finally choosing me."
Preston had a headache. "Choose you for what?” he asked, baffled. "I'm a fucking hunter, my job is to make certain you stay within bounds of your permit. You want me to be your fuck toy? Go to hell."
"You hunters think you're so smart, but you're really pretty stupid," Richard said, pinching the bridge of his nose, and it wasn't even remotely fair that he looked as frustrated as Preston felt.
"I resent that," Preston snapped. "What is going on?"
"Has it ever puzzled you nitwit hunters as to why we, as you say, toy with you so much? It does not make much sense that we harass those who have the power to not only take away our permits, but kill us."
Preston shrugged. "A lot about vampires doesn't make sense to me, and I've given up asking. We've always taken it to be you guys playing with your watchdogs."
"Some, yes," Richard said. "Some, like you, we would like to keep. Hunters are a cut above other humans. You have to be to keep pace with us. No other human would ever have taken a knife to me as easily as you did."
"Save the fucking compliments," Preston snapped. "That oil slick voice might con others, Richard, but I'm only getting more irritated. So you're saying I'm special, not just some toy. So what the hell am I then?"
"Strong," Richard said. "Physical, mental, everything. Far more than a pet or a toy, hunter."
Preston tightened his grip on his knives. "So what does that make me? A three course dinner?"
Richard heaved a long sigh. "A companion."
"Fuck that," Preston snapped. "Cats don’t take rats or mice as companions." He jerked his head sharply as Richard tried to keep talking. "We're done here. Get the fuck back to your house and I don't want to hear about you being out after hours again. Got it?"
"Hunter—"
"I said, got it?"
"Got it," Richard said sourly. "You should lighten up, hunter. It would do you wonders."
"Whatever. Get lost, Richard."
He waited beneath the streetlight as Richard slowly walked away, waited until he could not smell anything but the faintest lingering traces, then finally sheathed his weapons and strode back to his hotel room.
Packing his things quickly, he called the front desk to get him a cab.
Almost as an afterthought, he looked at his call log. After storming off two weeks ago, he'd flipped it to silent mode. Thirty one calls from Alessandro and Tremont. They were getting more frequent.
He wondered if they were calling to apologize, or bitch. Obviously they hadn't killed each other while he was ignoring them. Well, he'd give them another week or so to rot. See if they did kill each other.
What the hell had Richard been going on about? He'd been doing his damnedest not to think about it. Companion? Strong?
It made a certain amount of sense, really… Vampires needed to feed. Broken and average vamps tended not to care at all who they sucked on. Tops, however…they didn't need to feed often, but when they did feed they needed to feed well. Regular blood – that is, from the same source as often as possible – was best for their systems. The toys they clung to had good blood and were able to endure being heavily drained over a period of months. Most toys didn't last past three or four months.
A hunter…hmm…he'd never thought of it that way. Hunters were a cut above the rest. That's what made them hunters. If a vampire snacked on a hunter…
That would explain why the fuckers kept trying to bite him, but not why they kept molesting him.
Fuck it. He was tired. He was going home. He was ignoring Alessandro and Tremont until they either learned to behave or killed each other. Then he'd figure out what to do about Richard. Castration, maybe.
Hefting his bag, he slung it over his shoulder and headed downstairs to catch his cab.
*~*~*
Whatever he'd expected upon entering his tiny apartment, it wasn't the sight of Alessandro and Tremont sitting in his living room quietly talking.
He dropped his duffle bag and drew a knife, just because he was in a bad mood and jetlagged and really not in the mood to sort out who needed to give back what and why he shouldn't kill them both. "What in the hell are you doing here?" he asked.
"We've been trying to talk to you," Alessandro said with the careful patience he only used when he was really pissed. "Ignoring our phone calls for two weeks running is a bit like that childish behavior of which you're always accusing us, don't you think?"
Preston snorted. "I've put up with it for years. Deal. And get out of my apartment."
Tremont shook his head and stood up, crossing the room to stand in front of him, followed by Alessandro. "We came to talk to you, hunter."
"Send me an email," Preston said, sheathing his knife. Damn it. He wanted to be left alone. Did no one get that? He was tired of all this crap. "I've had more than my fill of vampires tonight, I don't need your stupid games after fighting off Richard."
Both vampires made the weird sound that was a bloodsucker truly riled – something that was part growl, part hiss, and completely nonhuman.
"I will kill him," Tremont snarled. "He's been warned before to keep his hands to himself."
Alessandro nodded in agreement. "The likes of that one has no right to you."
Preston almost drew his knife again. "I am not some damned toy to which any of you has a claim, I don't care how appealing as a pet or a toy or a companion or whatever I might be. What makes you think you have any right to act like that? I’m a fucking hunter. I'm in charge, not you. Now get the fuck out of my apartment."
"You must really be in a snit," Tremont said with one of his familiar pouts, "if you're not even noticing that we're getting along."
That drew Preston up short. He stared at them. "Why are the two of you here? Together? Not killing each other." Had someone forgotten to tell him hell had frozen over?
"Oh, we were fighting until about a week ago," Alessandro said, sharing a look with Tremont that Preston didn't quite follow. "We were each convinced the other was to blame for your completely walking away."
Preston rolled his eyes. "I was sick of you both. Richard is an ass, Belle is a bitch, but you two are the bane of my existence."
"Yet you're not nearly as harsh with us as you are with Richard and Belle," Tremont said with a gleam in his eyes that only ever spelled trouble. "After we paused long enough in trying to kill each other over you, we realized something rather interesting."
"What was that?" Preston asked warily, itching to take a step back – but that would show weakness, which right now was the last thing he wanted to show.
Alessandro smirked. "You're always telling us to either kill each other or share, hunter. There was something you neglected to tell us, however."
Preston frowned, not liking the way they both looked like they were up to something, because it was one thing when they were only trying to piss each other off – he wondered if maybe their getting along was the right idea after all. "What?"
One second they were in front of him, the next he had Tremont in front of him, Alessandro behind him – and two sets of teeth just barely scraping the skin of his throat. Preston drew a sharp breath.
"Apparently," Alessandro murmured in his ear, "we have been sharing you all along."
Preston didn't even try to move. Any direction he tried to go, there were teeth or hands in the way. He held as still as he could, feeling way too much like a canary pounced by two tomcats.
Tremont lapped at his lips in that disconcerting way he had. "Maybe you just let every vampire under your care kiss you. Hmm? Is that it?"
"I most certainly do not," Preston snapped, resenting the implication.
Then he swore, as he realized what exactly he'd just given up.
Soft chuckles washed over him, pleased and entirely too smug.
"Let me go," he said sharply.
"No," Alessandro said, and Preston shivered despite himself as a tongue dragged across the back of his neck, followed by the nip of sharp teeth.
He glared at Tremont, who only stared back with a smirk Preston was itching to knock right off his face. "What in the hell do you think the two of you are doing?"
"Sharing," they chorused.
Preston opened his mouth to demand a better explanation of that bizarre statement when Tremont kissed him. He might have been able to resist it, for he'd resisted Tremont's kisses before – but they'd never been coupled with Alessandro's hands, which were suddenly shoving up under his t-shirt to explore his chest with entirely too much liberty.
He heard a long moan, and realized suddenly it came from him, but his thoughts skittered away again as two hands became four and Alessandro resumed lavishing attention on the back of Preston's neck.
This was not happening.
Tremont was suddenly gone, and the lack of kissing left Preston momentarily startled – then he was abruptly turned and kissing Alessandro instead, and he moaned loudly at the difference. He'd always compared them, but to have them both here and to compare so immediately and intimately…
It needed to stop before he completely forgot that this shouldn't be happening. They were vampires. He was a hunter.
He finally broke away with a gasp, pushing and grabbing and cussing until he finally wrenched free. Panting, he looked at them – then hastily looked away. "What the fuck is going on here? When I said share, I didn't mean me. It doesn't even make sense. You get pissy when Richard touches me but you'll both share me with each other? Is that supposed to make sense? Because it doesn't."
They shared a look, and he was never going to get used to seeing Alessandro and Tremont in the same room and not just getting along but cooperating.
Alessandro spoke first. "As we said, we spent the first week after you walked out trying to kill each other. I think it safe to say we have both been more than a little interested in you for a long time."
"Is this like that companion crap Richard was talking about?" Preston asked.
"Yes," Tremont said, looking a little startled. "You should know better than anyone that vampires favor feeding from one source for as long as possible. What would possibly make a better source than someone of hunter caliber? This used to be a well known fact, but times change…"
"That still doesn't explain why you were – not fighting over me." Because they weren't sharing him, that sort thing never actually happened and there was no way he'd kind of liked it he didn't care how hard his cock might still be.
"We did, for a week straight. If you had not been ignoring us, you would have realized that," Alessandro said, looking both annoyed and amused.
"Then we figured out we were both in the same dilemma, and we didn't like you ignoring us, and likely the only way we would get you back was by cooperating long enough to do that," Tremont said, sharing another look with Alessandro.
Preston shook his head. "So just like that you started cooperating?"
"Oh, it wasn't that easy," Alessandro said. "We were still rather cross with each other – after all, we both wanted you. That's when we figured out that you'd been…rather tolerant of both of us. A few delicate inquiries made it clear you didn't tolerate kisses from any other vampires. Which left us with rather an interesting dilemma on our hands."
Tremont nodded. "Yes. We could force you to choose between us, but we didn't think that wise given you were already ignoring both of us."
"So…" Preston frowned.
Alessandro smirked. "Then we both recalled what you were always telling us. Kill each other or learn to share, as we've already stated. That's when we realized we already were sharing."
"That makes no fucking sense," Preston said. "You two love hating each other, and now you suddenly decide to stop because of me? I fail to see the logic." Though he definitely saw the pretty, the way they stood next to each other like that, mussed from their recent activities.
They moved toward him again, touching, and he meant to jerk away he did but oh he'd never been very good at rejecting their kisses. His brothers had it so much easier hunting broken vamps.
He whimpered as Alessandro kissed him hard, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. Fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans and Preston jerked hard, eyes widening. He tore away from Alessandro's mouth to try and glare at someone. "This is a bad idea, you idiots. When I said you should learn to share, this is not what I meant."
"You belong to us, Preston," Tremont said firmly, nipping hard at the side of his throat. "It's decided."
Preston gasped. "It—impossible." He bit down hard on his lip against a moan as Alessandro proved to be far too clever with his damned fingers. "I'm a fucking hunter. You're vampires."
"You know it's only that black and white at the bottom," Alessandro murmured. "You'll have to try a less flimsy excuse."
"What about when you stop cooperating?" Preston asked softly, pulling away from them again. "This is stupid. You two have been fighting for what, two centuries? And it just magically goes away now because I ignore you for two weeks?"
Tremont shrugged. "Some things are more important than an amusing feud."
Alessandro nodded in agreement, oddly quiet.
Preston still wasn't buying it. "You really can't expect me to believe it. Give it a day and you'll be right back to your bickering and the only real change is that I'll be more thoroughly stuck in the middle than ever. Never mind this is a bad idea anyway."
The two vampires shared another look, then glanced briefly at him before looking at each other again and Preston had the impression they were giving a mental shrug.
Then he startled enough he almost fell over.
Oh, hell. Even his wildest imaginings had never come up with something that hot. Even in his own head he hadn't been crazy enough to picture Alessandro kissing Tremont.
Now it was seared right into his brain, and he didn't think he'd forget it no matter what happened.
He shook his head in bewilderment when they finally broke apart.
Jeez. When he'd said they should either kill or fuck each other…not once had he ever actually thought they'd pick door number two.
And he was pretty damned certain he'd never once suggested himself as the human they should be sharing, but he couldn't quite bring himself to fight them off as they pounced him again.
Still. He couldn't quite give up either. "Vampires. Hunter. Bad idea. Cats do not ever play with their mice in a good way."
Alessandro rolled his eyes. "I'm sick of this predator and prey nonsense humans go on about. Can a cat turn a mouse into a cat? No."
Preston blinked. He'd…never thought of it that way before. "Um—"
"Shut up, Preston," Tremont said, and it was all kinds of distracting the way they said his name now instead of simply 'hunter' and he tried, he really did try, to resist the consuming kiss that took his mouth, the way Tremont became Alessandro, the way kissing them became watching them kiss again and he rather thought he could come just watching that—
He sort of just stared, feeling dazed, as they came at him again. "My family is going to fucking kill me," he said, because his mother was seriously going to come after him with one of his own knives whenever she found out about this.
Something flashed in their eyes – hard and fierce, but he recognized it as vampires being possessive, protective. "You belong to us, Preston," Alessandro said firmly. He smirked. "It's the duty of a top hunter to keep the peace amongst top vampires, yes?"
"Yes," Preston said, and he was not smiling – except he was, and perhaps even fondly. "Though I sense if I'm going to be this companion thing or whatever to the two of you, then I'm going to be the reason you start up a feud with Richard."
They pounced him, making that weird growl-hiss noise, one behind, one in front. This time there was nothing teasing or gentle about their teeth as they bit down. He jerked, crying out in pain, but the arms that held him firmly in place were gentle and somehow comforting.
Almost as quickly as they'd bit him they stopped, and pain turned to pleasure as teeth were replace by lips and the dizzying kisses resumed.
"Ours," Tremont said quietly, but with steel in his voice. "We'll share with each other, but no one else. Understand, hunter?"
Preston smiled despite himself, tired of arguing. If they were finally getting along, who was he to protest? This was better than their bitching, definitely. "Yeah," he said.
They both made noises of agreement and approval, then fell to proving just how well they had learned to share.
So, I hope it is at least amusing to read.
And using this icon, I have to say I've not forgotten the drabbles owed. Believe me *knows she sucks*
Sharing
Preston stifled a yawn as he leaned against the back of the elevator, staring blearily at the numbers across the top. When 32 lit up, he forced himself to stand and move, half walking, half stumbling out of the elevator and into the hallway outside the penthouse suite of Alessandro Gentile.
He rang the buzzer and gave in to the next yawn as the door opened. Nodding absently to the vamp who opened the door, he strode through a living room that cost more than his entire house, down the hallway to the master bedroom all the way at the end.
Given the hour, he didn't think he was obligated to knock. Pushing the bedroom door open, he padded inside, brown eyes immediately going to the plush sitting chair by the floor to ceiling windows on the north side of the room.
The man who occupied it was tall and slender, black hair and beautiful green eyes. He was handsome, and perhaps only the shadows in his eyes gave away that he was far more than the forty he appeared. "It's three in the morning, 'Sandro."
"Yes, I can see it is," Alessandro said with a smirk, eyes dragging slowly down and even more slowly back up Preston's body. "Did you walk through the city dressed like that? I'm amazed you weren't…delayed."
Preston glared, pointedly ignoring his unsubtle looks. He was not in the mood to put up with this. He wanted to go back to bed, not sort out yet another damned hissy fit between Alessandro and Tremont.
Honestly. It was his personal opinion that they should either kill or fuck each other. Sadly, they tended to vehemently ignore this advice. The latter suggestion tended also to get him in deep shit. He still thought it valid.
"I'm supposed to make certain you're not breaking laws," he said irritably. "I'm not your babysitter."
"A pity," Alessandro said with a smirk and another unsubtle look.
"Knock it off," Preston replied. "I'm really not in the mood for your games. It's three in the fucking morning, in case I didn't already make that clear. What the fuck couldn't wait until a decent hour?"
Alessandro smirked. "Oh, he stole another human. I thought you'd prefer I call you this time rather than your brother, though he's awfully cute when he's all pissy. How are he and his little dhampir?"
Preston groaned and moved to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it and burying his face in his hands. "This is why you woke me up? I was warm and comfortable and asleep, Sandro."
"Poor hunter," Alessandro said, standing up and crossing the room and Preston suddenly realized sitting down on his bed had not been the brightest idea ever. He stood hastily up, moving away and giving Alessandro a warning glare. "I told you I wasn't in the mood for your games."
Alessandro stroked his cheek. "Whoever said it was a game?"
"Oh, please," Preston said jerking away. "I'm really not in the mood for vampire shenanigans." He pushed Alessandro away and stole the vacated chair. "If you would stop flaunting your little snacks in his face just to piss him off, he wouldn't feel obliged to steal them to piss you off. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with the two of you?"
He closed his eyes and rest his head against the back of the chair, wishing he was still dead asleep in bed.
Instead, he was sitting in the bedroom of a top vampire. In his pajamas. Listening to a vampire roughly four hundred years old whine like a fifteen year old.
The soft brush of feet on carpet alerted him, then he suddenly felt warm fingers on his face, stroking slowly down to his neck.
Sometimes he envied his brothers. Billie and Locke spent their days killing vamps that were better off dead – or averages that broke too many laws. Preston had chosen to go the way of his uncle, dealing with the tricky tops. Life wasn't so black and white here. Laws were broken constantly, lines crossed with impunity.
His chin was lightly grasped, face tilted up, and he slowly opened his eyes as Alessandro kissed his cheeks softly. "Sandro," he said in warning.
A warning blithely ignored as Alessandro kissed him softly, slowly.
It was times like this he really envied his brothers. Vampires were monsters to them.
Preston only ever saw about a million different headaches. Tops were nothing like the broken and average vamps his brothers killed. Tops were something else altogether.
He turned his head away, breaking the lingering kiss. "If you want a human, vampire, go rescue your damned toy from Tremont. I won't say it again – I'm not in the mood for your games."
That's all they were, no matter what the vamps said. Games. Predators only played with their food when they had every intention of killing it. It drove him crazy, constantly being a source of amusement for the vamps he kept an eye on.
He stood up again, fighting another yawn. "I'll go get your damned toy back, Sandro. Stay here and out of trouble." Not giving Alessandro a chance to reply, he strode from the room, back the way he'd come, rubbing his eyes as he pondered whether or not it was worth it to go back to his apartment to get dressed.
His lips tingled; they always did when Alessandro stole a kiss. Damn it.
Veering left outside, he strode back to his apartment to fetch proper clothes.
Several hours later, in jeans and t-shirt, he let himself into Tremont's apartment.
He rolled his eyes as the first thing he saw was Tremont snacking on a pretty little redhead. Tremont didn't like redheads, except when he stole them from Alessandro. "Tremont, grow up."
"No," Tremont said, licking a bit of blood from his lips as he pushed the redhead away. "I'll stop being difficult when he stops being a prick."
Preston rolled his eyes. "I so cannot wait for the day the two of you finally kill each other."
"I do not see that happening," Tremont said idly, lying back on the long, wrap around leather couch that took up most of his living room. "Did he wake you up in the middle of the night, hunter? I would apologize, but you look even prettier rumpled than you do nice and tidy."
"I will hurt you," Preston said. "He woke me up at three in the morning because you decided to be an asshole. You're both assholes. No, you're both children. What is the fucking point of all this and why must you constantly drag me into it?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Honestly, it's no wonder Uncle Vincent turned into a bloody alcoholic."
"Alcohol," Tremont said with a grimace. "Disgusting." He smirked, and gave Preston the same slow perusal that Alessandro had several hours earlier. "Except, of course, for a good red wine."
Preston did not bother to respond to that. Like any good hunter, he made certain he smelled good to a vampire. No vampire, broken, top, or whatever, liked to waste a good meal – even if said meal was a hunter. It made them think twice, if only on a subconscious level, and that moment of hesitation could make all the difference in the world.
Even if, in Preston's case, all it really got him most of the time was sexual harassment.
He moved to the couch, standing over Tremont, glaring at him. "Are you done for now?" he asked. "Can I take the toy back to Alessandro?"
"Maybe," Tremont said lazily, slowly opening his eyes, pushing loose strands of red-brown hair from his face. Behind the messy hair, his eyes were the color of brown sugar, warm and soft while Tremont was fed and sated. Nothing like the plain brown of Preston's eyes, or as brilliant as Alessandro's green eyes – but both vamps had a tendency to make it hard to break eye contact.
Preston had seen those soft brown eyes hard and cold, and likely would again. For now, though, Tremont might be pliable. He was dressed casually in jeans and a white oxford, the top three buttons undone. Unlike Alessandro's sparse build, Tremont had a bit of meat to him, just enough to escape being described as skinny.
Quick as lightning, and Preston chalked it up to sleep deprivation that he hadn't anticipated it, Tremont yanked him down. Preston landed with a grunt on top of Tremont, glaring angrily. "Let me up, bloodsucker. Now."
"Oh, now, calling me names won't get you anywhere." Tremont lapped lazily at his lips, and Preston struggled to remain unaffected. He had to remain unaffected. But where Alessandro's stolen kisses always tingled, Tremont's burned. "You should take a nap, hunter. Driving as tired as you are…we wouldn't want an accident to ruin your pretty face."
Preston got his hands free and managed to pinch Tremont hard – just enough to annoy him a bit. "I liked you better when you were injured," he said. "Maybe I should get Key to shoot you again."
"Oh, shut up," Tremont said, and pushed him off so that Preston landed in an awkward heap on the floor. "Take the damned toy, then. Alessandro has terrible taste in snacks. Too much junk food, that one. His blood tastes too fatty and sweet." He propped himself on his elbow, staring down at Preston with a smirk. "Unlike you. What I wouldn't give for a taste of you, hunter."
"Yeah, yeah," Preston muttered, picking himself up slowly. "I'd take it as a compliment, except not." He strode to the armchair where the redhead was sitting, still and almost asleep. Thoroughly doped by the vamps, then. Preston was glad he was immune to that – one of the traits of a hunter. If you couldn’t look a top vamp in the eyes, there was no sense in being a hunter. He gently tugged the young man to his feet.
Most hunters, having to deal with this sort of thing, would shoot and never bother to ask questions. Preston had gotten used to it. Vamps needed to eat, and he could hardly bitch when in the end no real harm was done. Not like the vamps Locke regularly gunned down.
It would be a day or two until the redhead came out of his doze, and whenever Alessandro finally tired of him, he would not remember anything of his time as a vampire snack.
"I swear to god if the two of you do anything for the next seventy two hours, I will string you up by your balls and report your asses. Understood?"
Tremont motioned lazily from where he was clearly settling down into a daze. "Yes, hunter. Tell that prick to stop annoying me, and I will stop taking his treats."
"It seems me the two of you could bother to sit down and discuss things," Preston said sourly. "Do you even know why you hate each other?"
"Oh, I hardly remember the original reason," Tremont said with laugh. "These days, it's entirely on principle. He's easy to hate, I assure you. Run along, hunter, before Alessandro gets too impatient and deprives you of more sleep."
Muttering sourly about his thoughts on top vamps, Preston half led, half dragged the doped redhead to the elevator.
*~*~*
He stared into his drink with disinterest. It was the best of red wines, the kind he hated drinking because he knew he wasn't appreciating it properly. Fighting an urge to tug at the collar of his tux, he pushed through the last bit of the crowd onto the balcony.
The night air was cold this high up, a nice break from the stifling heat inside.
What he wanted was a nice beer and something identifiable to eat. He hated coming to California. Every single time he came, there was a party he had to attend to make certain the tops under his charge weren't doing anything they shouldn't.
Or rather, that they weren't doing too much that they shouldn't.
He sighed and took another sip of wine. It would do wonders for his blood, but that was poor consolation at the moment – even in a room full of vampires.
"You are not enjoying yourself?"
The voice was a dark purr, and Preston had seen its owner seduce everything under the sun and moon, from human right up to fellow vampires. He had heard more than a few stories about Richard Freeman's conquests.
To him, the voice was nails on a chalkboard. He was taunting, mocking, condescending and occasionally cruel.
He was in charge of a baker's dozen of top vamps, scattered throughout the country. Of those, he hated two, was fine with nine…and didn't know what to do with the remaining two.
Richard was one of the hated.
Preston stepped away from the hand that settled at the small of his back. "You know I hate your parties, Richard. If I thought you actually cared enough to bother, I'd swear you always have them during my visits just to piss me off."
"Mmm," Richard said, dark brown eyes nearly black. "Maybe I do it because I like seeing you all dressed up…though I confess your rougher garb holds some strange appeal of its own." He reached up touch Preston's cheek, digging his nails in lightly. There was a hint of teeth in his smile, and Preston repressed a sigh. "You do seem moody tonight, hunter."
"I'm tired of parties," Preston replied. "I came to check up on you, not baby-sit you all night. Tops are all children."
Richard laughed. "Now, now. Do not group all of us with those bickering nitwits on the east coast, hunter. That's not very fair of you."
"What do you call your behavior then?" Preston snapped. Honestly.
"An attempt to overcome a challenge," Richard said, and Preston grunted as he suddenly found himself pressed up against the balcony. Warm lips brushed across his cheek, along his jaw, and down his throat.
Preston put up with it; vampires and their stupid games.
Then he felt teeth. No.
Nothing seemed noticeably to change, but Richard abruptly went still.
"You're going too far," Preston said coldly, digging his knife in just enough to break skin. "Take a bite, and it's the last bite you'll get, blood sucker."
Richard laughed, but eased back. "It would be a fine way to go, hunter."
"Shut up," Preston said, and sheathed the long, silver knife he'd pulled from within his jacket. There were times he missed the days when his family had carried swords. Most of the family used guns, but those were too flashy for his work. Silver blades were his specialty, even if he couldn't actually carry any of the swords he'd learned so assiduously growing up. "You would think that after five hundred years, you might have acquired more manners."
He touched his throat lightly, frowning as his fingers came away bloody. "You are crossing lines you should not be crossing, blood sucker."
"Perhaps you should not come in here smelling like an invitation," Richard snapped. "You are lucky every vampire in here fears me more than they lust after you."
"Lust, no. Hunger, yes," Preston snapped. "Stop throwing a damned party every time—" He was cut off as his phone started ringing.
The ring was all too familiar, and brought with it the usual mix of annoyance, exasperation…and things upon which he preferred not to dwell. He yanked the phone from his pocket and flipped it open. "What?" Snapping it shut a second later, he pushed past Richard and back into the room proper, heading straight for the front room and his coat.
"You indulge those two far too much," Richard said from behind him.
Preston rolled his eyes. "I put up with you just as much," he snapped, fingers going to the light wound at his neck. "Even I, however, have my limits. Do not attempt to bite me again, Richard." Turning sharply on his heel, he stalked from the room.
He just barely caught Richard's parting words as the elevator doors slid shut.
"Next time, I won't attempt."
Rolling his eyes, Preston hailed a taxi on the street and asked the driver to take him to the airport.
"I swear to god, your only goal in this century is to deprive me of as much sleep as possible," Preston groused.
Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't for Tremont to slam his glass down and stalk across the room looking as though he'd like to hit someone.
"Richard bit you," he snarled.
Preston blinked, and held up his hands in a sleepy effort to ward Tremont off. "I took care of—"
Honestly. He really was tired of being sleep deprived. It made him do stupid things. Like let Richard almost bite him. And Tremont kiss him.
Tremont tasted like blood, but only faintly. It was, if Preston had not lost track of his days, about a week still before Tremont would feel like feeding again. Clashing with the copper tang was something faintly sweet. The flavor, Preston often thought, of spoiled brat.
He pushed Tremont away after a moment, summoning a glare. "As I was trying to say, I took care of it. What is it with you bloodsuckers tonight?" He sighed and strode to the couch, dropping down without ceremony to stretch out, burying his face in one folded arm, the other draping over the side of the couch.
A hand settled on his head, and he felt Tremont settle beside him on the floor.
Sighing, Preston forced his eyes open, turning his head to look. "What?"
"You look awful, hunter."
"No shit," Preston snapped. "Being a hunter is supposed to be difficult, not a constant state of fucking misery. What the hell are you and Sandro up to now? I'd had three hours of sleep when Richard dragged me to his damn party, I was nearly bitten, then suddenly I have to spend seven hours going from California to here and you tell me I look awful? Fuck you." He buried his head in his arms again.
Fingers, long and thin and warm, stroked through his short-cropped hair, caressing lightly over the back of his neck before tracing the length of his spine. "Ah, hunter. I fear we are over fond of you."
Preston snorted at that. "Whatever," he said with a yawn. "What the hell did you want?"
"Perhaps it can wait a bit," Tremont said with a faint smile – rare for him. Tremont was better at frowning or pouting than smiling. "You should rest. I like to bend my pretty hunter, not break."
"Not yours," Preston muttered.
The fingers on his back suddenly pressed hard enough to hurt. Preston jerked in surprise and looked up. "What?"
"To whom do you belong?" Tremont asked coldly.
"No one," Preston snapped. "I belong to myself, because I'm too fucking busy babysitting goddamn vamps who wake me up and summon me from across the fucking country all because they're so wrapped up in pissing each other off they don't care how that behavior affects everyone around them. I don't belong to anyone because I'm too busy catering to your pissing contests."
Too angry now to hold still, Preston stood and stalked to the door. "I don't give a fuck what's wrong this time. Fix it yourself. If you spill too much blood I'll have your permits revoked." Yanking the door open, he stalked to the elevator and mashed the button.
He yelped as he was abruptly yanked back, oofing as his forehead collided with Tremont's jaw. "Let me go," he said when he was reasonably certain of his balance.
Instead Tremont kissed him again. Preston attempted to struggle free, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best and he knew it. He moaned softly as he let the kiss go deep, holding fast to Tremont's upper arms.
The thought of what his family would do if they caught him kissing vampires was enough to make his blood freeze, but he would be lying if he said Tremont's kiss wasn't devastating.
He pushed Tremont away after a moment, and reached out blindly to mash the elevator button again. "Did you take another toy, Tremont?"
"He took mine actually," Tremont said. "You should stay and rest, hunter."
Preston shook his head. "No. I'm not going to get any dumber, and I'm tired of being toyed with." That's all he was, and he needed to remember that. Hadn't his uncle said that was the hardest part of their job? Keeping the distance, because tops liked to cross lines and break rules – and play with their hunters.
He ignored Tremont's calling his name, stepping into the elevator before he could be snatched back again. The doors closed with a chime, and he let out a long sigh.
Several hours and a great many cups of coffee later, he let himself into Alessandro's penthouse.
Alessandro was waiting for him, looking like a cat that still had feathers clinging to his mouth. His smirk, however, faded as Preston drew close. "You look terrible, hunter."
"Yeah, I wonder why?" Preston snapped. "No fucking thanks to you, I'm pushing twenty four hours without sleep. Where the fuck is Tremont's toy?"
Instead of answering, Alessandro glared. "Richard bit you."
"He nipped me, and that has nothing to do with this. I can fucking take care of myself." Preston grimaced at himself. He was obviously exhausted if he was cussing more and more. "Give up the damned toy."
Alessandro yanked him close, fingers going immediately to the livid red marks on his neck. "You are not his to touch," he growled, fingers tightening around Preston's throat, not quite enough to hurt.
"I'm not yours either," Preston snapped.
"Hmm," Alessandro said, frowning.
He about to be kissed, and Preston suddenly didn't want to deal with it. Tremont's kisses still weighed heavily on his mind, and he knew all too well how Alessandro's would feel.
Tired and tired of it.
He shoved Alessandro away, somewhat gratified at the look of surprise on the too-handsome face. "I'm not yours. I'm not Tremont's. I'm not Richard's. I'm just a fucking hunter, and while I know being manhandled comes with the territory – that doesn't mean I belong to anyone. I have no interest in being a drained corpse somewhere, and I certainly have no interest in being the snack you and Tremont steal back and forth. Go to hell. Give Tremont's toy back, and you can both stop fucking calling me over your asinine squabbles."
Turning sharply around, he stalked to the door.
A hand landed on his shoulder and that was finally enough. Snapping around, the flash of light on silver was the only warning Alessandro got before Preston shoved him back against the nearest wall with sharp silver pressed against his throat, another one jabbing at his gut. "I've had it, vampire," he snarled. "Just because I play along doesn't mean I'm your damned toy. Leave. Me. Alone. Understand?"
Alessandro nodded as best he could with a knife to his throat.
Preston stowed the knives as quickly as he'd drawn them, then once more turned away to leave.
He was so fucking done with this shit.
*~*~*
Twenty nine missed calls from Alessandro. Twenty nine from Tremont.
Preston sighed and set his phone back down on the nighstand. To hell with them. Regulations said he had to check on the bastards once a month. He generally saw them at least once a week. That meant he could keep right on ignoring them for a bit. Two weeks, and he was perfectly happy to go two more at least.
Except, maybe, for the part where he was barely sleeping.
Nothing new about that, he supposed.
Sighing, Preston sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He glanced at the alarm clock: 1:00 AM.
Obviously he wasn't getting much sleep tonight either. Ah, well. By now Richard's stupid party should be over. Why not make a surprise visit?
Standing, he stripped off his sleep pants and wife beater, tugging on jeans and t-shirt. From the chair in the corner of his small, stale hotel room he retrieved his knife belts. The longest of his knives rest right between his shoulder blades. Two more rest at the small of his back, with small daggers strapped to each forearm.
Silver gleamed in the light from the streetlamps slipping through the curtains before he sheathed them. Shrugging into a lightweight leather jacket, he sat down to pull on his boots, then snatched up his keys and wallet.
The night was nice, probably too warm for his jacket but he preferred not to flash his blades if he could help it. A night like this…
Preston shook his head irritably. It didn't matter. He was a hunter. A top level hunter, at that. Precious few of those managed any sort of personal life. He'd known that full and well when he'd decided to be the most difficult type of hunter.
It was quiet. Too quiet. Preston was torn between heaving a sigh and rolling his eyes.
Instead he settled for slowing down and nicking his arm. In the dark, his blood was a black smudge on gleaming silver.
He stopped at an intersection, right beneath a streetlight and a worn out bus stop sign. Waited, hands itching for blades. Better to do without for now, but they itched all the same.
Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. What he did see and smell surprised him, however. He'd expected an average, a lackey sent by either Sandro or Tremont.
He hadn't expected Richard.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"You didn't come to my party," Richard said.
Preston snatched his hand out of reach when Richard made a grab at it. He stuck his wrist in his mouth, licking away the drying blood there. "Why are you tailing me, Richard? I was on my way to see you."
"Rumor has it you're avoiding your tops, hunter."
"What I do or don't do is none of your business. I'm the one who keeps an eye on your life, not the other way around. You should not be out at this hour; any low level hunter out and about would be perfectly within his rights to regard you as a threat. I'm regarding you as a threat."
Richard smirked and moved a little closer. "You didn't come to my party; I thought you might be ignoring me too…but I was informed you were here, and came to see you for myself…so are you choosing me over those idiots on the east coast? California is much nicer."
Preston was getting a headache. "Choose? What in the hell are you talking about? Do vampires live for centuries just to perfect the art of being confusing and annoying?"
He jerked away and stepped back as Richard tried to touch him. "I am really not in the mood to play games, Richard. What the fuck do you want?"
"I would think that obvious, hunter," Richard said, a telltale gleam to his eyes.
Preston flexed his hands, ready to draw his knives in a moment. "Back the fuck off, bloodsucker. I’m not on your menu and you know damn good and well what will happen if you try to make me one."
Richard snarled and suddenly was close. Preston twisted away, drawing a knife, swinging up to catch Richard across the chest.
"Back off," he said. "I don't like you much, but I sure as fuck don't want to kill you."
"I don't want you for a meal, you stupid human," Richard said. "Don't you get that?" He grimaced in pain at the wound across his chest. A minor scratch, really, but the silver left a lingering burn. "I'd much rather fuck you than eat you, though I wouldn't mind both."
Preston would have rolled his eyes if he dared take them off Richard for a single second. "Whatever. I'm sick of telling you vamps I'm not one of your goddamn toys. I'm perfectly within my rights to kill you if you keep this shit up, Richard, and we both know I can." Five hundred years didn't mean the vampire had all the tricks.
"You have only yourself to blame for being both edible and stubborn. All the vamps you watch, you never paid any mind except to those two and me."
"You're an asshole, and one who has come close to losing his permit more than once – just in the last century," Preston snapped.
Richard took a step closer, but held his hands up in surrender when Preston lifted his knives in warning. "So why did you come here after blowing off those nitwits? I had hoped you were finally choosing me."
Preston had a headache. "Choose you for what?” he asked, baffled. "I'm a fucking hunter, my job is to make certain you stay within bounds of your permit. You want me to be your fuck toy? Go to hell."
"You hunters think you're so smart, but you're really pretty stupid," Richard said, pinching the bridge of his nose, and it wasn't even remotely fair that he looked as frustrated as Preston felt.
"I resent that," Preston snapped. "What is going on?"
"Has it ever puzzled you nitwit hunters as to why we, as you say, toy with you so much? It does not make much sense that we harass those who have the power to not only take away our permits, but kill us."
Preston shrugged. "A lot about vampires doesn't make sense to me, and I've given up asking. We've always taken it to be you guys playing with your watchdogs."
"Some, yes," Richard said. "Some, like you, we would like to keep. Hunters are a cut above other humans. You have to be to keep pace with us. No other human would ever have taken a knife to me as easily as you did."
"Save the fucking compliments," Preston snapped. "That oil slick voice might con others, Richard, but I'm only getting more irritated. So you're saying I'm special, not just some toy. So what the hell am I then?"
"Strong," Richard said. "Physical, mental, everything. Far more than a pet or a toy, hunter."
Preston tightened his grip on his knives. "So what does that make me? A three course dinner?"
Richard heaved a long sigh. "A companion."
"Fuck that," Preston snapped. "Cats don’t take rats or mice as companions." He jerked his head sharply as Richard tried to keep talking. "We're done here. Get the fuck back to your house and I don't want to hear about you being out after hours again. Got it?"
"Hunter—"
"I said, got it?"
"Got it," Richard said sourly. "You should lighten up, hunter. It would do you wonders."
"Whatever. Get lost, Richard."
He waited beneath the streetlight as Richard slowly walked away, waited until he could not smell anything but the faintest lingering traces, then finally sheathed his weapons and strode back to his hotel room.
Packing his things quickly, he called the front desk to get him a cab.
Almost as an afterthought, he looked at his call log. After storming off two weeks ago, he'd flipped it to silent mode. Thirty one calls from Alessandro and Tremont. They were getting more frequent.
He wondered if they were calling to apologize, or bitch. Obviously they hadn't killed each other while he was ignoring them. Well, he'd give them another week or so to rot. See if they did kill each other.
What the hell had Richard been going on about? He'd been doing his damnedest not to think about it. Companion? Strong?
It made a certain amount of sense, really… Vampires needed to feed. Broken and average vamps tended not to care at all who they sucked on. Tops, however…they didn't need to feed often, but when they did feed they needed to feed well. Regular blood – that is, from the same source as often as possible – was best for their systems. The toys they clung to had good blood and were able to endure being heavily drained over a period of months. Most toys didn't last past three or four months.
A hunter…hmm…he'd never thought of it that way. Hunters were a cut above the rest. That's what made them hunters. If a vampire snacked on a hunter…
That would explain why the fuckers kept trying to bite him, but not why they kept molesting him.
Fuck it. He was tired. He was going home. He was ignoring Alessandro and Tremont until they either learned to behave or killed each other. Then he'd figure out what to do about Richard. Castration, maybe.
Hefting his bag, he slung it over his shoulder and headed downstairs to catch his cab.
*~*~*
Whatever he'd expected upon entering his tiny apartment, it wasn't the sight of Alessandro and Tremont sitting in his living room quietly talking.
He dropped his duffle bag and drew a knife, just because he was in a bad mood and jetlagged and really not in the mood to sort out who needed to give back what and why he shouldn't kill them both. "What in the hell are you doing here?" he asked.
"We've been trying to talk to you," Alessandro said with the careful patience he only used when he was really pissed. "Ignoring our phone calls for two weeks running is a bit like that childish behavior of which you're always accusing us, don't you think?"
Preston snorted. "I've put up with it for years. Deal. And get out of my apartment."
Tremont shook his head and stood up, crossing the room to stand in front of him, followed by Alessandro. "We came to talk to you, hunter."
"Send me an email," Preston said, sheathing his knife. Damn it. He wanted to be left alone. Did no one get that? He was tired of all this crap. "I've had more than my fill of vampires tonight, I don't need your stupid games after fighting off Richard."
Both vampires made the weird sound that was a bloodsucker truly riled – something that was part growl, part hiss, and completely nonhuman.
"I will kill him," Tremont snarled. "He's been warned before to keep his hands to himself."
Alessandro nodded in agreement. "The likes of that one has no right to you."
Preston almost drew his knife again. "I am not some damned toy to which any of you has a claim, I don't care how appealing as a pet or a toy or a companion or whatever I might be. What makes you think you have any right to act like that? I’m a fucking hunter. I'm in charge, not you. Now get the fuck out of my apartment."
"You must really be in a snit," Tremont said with one of his familiar pouts, "if you're not even noticing that we're getting along."
That drew Preston up short. He stared at them. "Why are the two of you here? Together? Not killing each other." Had someone forgotten to tell him hell had frozen over?
"Oh, we were fighting until about a week ago," Alessandro said, sharing a look with Tremont that Preston didn't quite follow. "We were each convinced the other was to blame for your completely walking away."
Preston rolled his eyes. "I was sick of you both. Richard is an ass, Belle is a bitch, but you two are the bane of my existence."
"Yet you're not nearly as harsh with us as you are with Richard and Belle," Tremont said with a gleam in his eyes that only ever spelled trouble. "After we paused long enough in trying to kill each other over you, we realized something rather interesting."
"What was that?" Preston asked warily, itching to take a step back – but that would show weakness, which right now was the last thing he wanted to show.
Alessandro smirked. "You're always telling us to either kill each other or share, hunter. There was something you neglected to tell us, however."
Preston frowned, not liking the way they both looked like they were up to something, because it was one thing when they were only trying to piss each other off – he wondered if maybe their getting along was the right idea after all. "What?"
One second they were in front of him, the next he had Tremont in front of him, Alessandro behind him – and two sets of teeth just barely scraping the skin of his throat. Preston drew a sharp breath.
"Apparently," Alessandro murmured in his ear, "we have been sharing you all along."
Preston didn't even try to move. Any direction he tried to go, there were teeth or hands in the way. He held as still as he could, feeling way too much like a canary pounced by two tomcats.
Tremont lapped at his lips in that disconcerting way he had. "Maybe you just let every vampire under your care kiss you. Hmm? Is that it?"
"I most certainly do not," Preston snapped, resenting the implication.
Then he swore, as he realized what exactly he'd just given up.
Soft chuckles washed over him, pleased and entirely too smug.
"Let me go," he said sharply.
"No," Alessandro said, and Preston shivered despite himself as a tongue dragged across the back of his neck, followed by the nip of sharp teeth.
He glared at Tremont, who only stared back with a smirk Preston was itching to knock right off his face. "What in the hell do you think the two of you are doing?"
"Sharing," they chorused.
Preston opened his mouth to demand a better explanation of that bizarre statement when Tremont kissed him. He might have been able to resist it, for he'd resisted Tremont's kisses before – but they'd never been coupled with Alessandro's hands, which were suddenly shoving up under his t-shirt to explore his chest with entirely too much liberty.
He heard a long moan, and realized suddenly it came from him, but his thoughts skittered away again as two hands became four and Alessandro resumed lavishing attention on the back of Preston's neck.
This was not happening.
Tremont was suddenly gone, and the lack of kissing left Preston momentarily startled – then he was abruptly turned and kissing Alessandro instead, and he moaned loudly at the difference. He'd always compared them, but to have them both here and to compare so immediately and intimately…
It needed to stop before he completely forgot that this shouldn't be happening. They were vampires. He was a hunter.
He finally broke away with a gasp, pushing and grabbing and cussing until he finally wrenched free. Panting, he looked at them – then hastily looked away. "What the fuck is going on here? When I said share, I didn't mean me. It doesn't even make sense. You get pissy when Richard touches me but you'll both share me with each other? Is that supposed to make sense? Because it doesn't."
They shared a look, and he was never going to get used to seeing Alessandro and Tremont in the same room and not just getting along but cooperating.
Alessandro spoke first. "As we said, we spent the first week after you walked out trying to kill each other. I think it safe to say we have both been more than a little interested in you for a long time."
"Is this like that companion crap Richard was talking about?" Preston asked.
"Yes," Tremont said, looking a little startled. "You should know better than anyone that vampires favor feeding from one source for as long as possible. What would possibly make a better source than someone of hunter caliber? This used to be a well known fact, but times change…"
"That still doesn't explain why you were – not fighting over me." Because they weren't sharing him, that sort thing never actually happened and there was no way he'd kind of liked it he didn't care how hard his cock might still be.
"We did, for a week straight. If you had not been ignoring us, you would have realized that," Alessandro said, looking both annoyed and amused.
"Then we figured out we were both in the same dilemma, and we didn't like you ignoring us, and likely the only way we would get you back was by cooperating long enough to do that," Tremont said, sharing another look with Alessandro.
Preston shook his head. "So just like that you started cooperating?"
"Oh, it wasn't that easy," Alessandro said. "We were still rather cross with each other – after all, we both wanted you. That's when we figured out that you'd been…rather tolerant of both of us. A few delicate inquiries made it clear you didn't tolerate kisses from any other vampires. Which left us with rather an interesting dilemma on our hands."
Tremont nodded. "Yes. We could force you to choose between us, but we didn't think that wise given you were already ignoring both of us."
"So…" Preston frowned.
Alessandro smirked. "Then we both recalled what you were always telling us. Kill each other or learn to share, as we've already stated. That's when we realized we already were sharing."
"That makes no fucking sense," Preston said. "You two love hating each other, and now you suddenly decide to stop because of me? I fail to see the logic." Though he definitely saw the pretty, the way they stood next to each other like that, mussed from their recent activities.
They moved toward him again, touching, and he meant to jerk away he did but oh he'd never been very good at rejecting their kisses. His brothers had it so much easier hunting broken vamps.
He whimpered as Alessandro kissed him hard, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. Fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans and Preston jerked hard, eyes widening. He tore away from Alessandro's mouth to try and glare at someone. "This is a bad idea, you idiots. When I said you should learn to share, this is not what I meant."
"You belong to us, Preston," Tremont said firmly, nipping hard at the side of his throat. "It's decided."
Preston gasped. "It—impossible." He bit down hard on his lip against a moan as Alessandro proved to be far too clever with his damned fingers. "I'm a fucking hunter. You're vampires."
"You know it's only that black and white at the bottom," Alessandro murmured. "You'll have to try a less flimsy excuse."
"What about when you stop cooperating?" Preston asked softly, pulling away from them again. "This is stupid. You two have been fighting for what, two centuries? And it just magically goes away now because I ignore you for two weeks?"
Tremont shrugged. "Some things are more important than an amusing feud."
Alessandro nodded in agreement, oddly quiet.
Preston still wasn't buying it. "You really can't expect me to believe it. Give it a day and you'll be right back to your bickering and the only real change is that I'll be more thoroughly stuck in the middle than ever. Never mind this is a bad idea anyway."
The two vampires shared another look, then glanced briefly at him before looking at each other again and Preston had the impression they were giving a mental shrug.
Then he startled enough he almost fell over.
Oh, hell. Even his wildest imaginings had never come up with something that hot. Even in his own head he hadn't been crazy enough to picture Alessandro kissing Tremont.
Now it was seared right into his brain, and he didn't think he'd forget it no matter what happened.
He shook his head in bewilderment when they finally broke apart.
Jeez. When he'd said they should either kill or fuck each other…not once had he ever actually thought they'd pick door number two.
And he was pretty damned certain he'd never once suggested himself as the human they should be sharing, but he couldn't quite bring himself to fight them off as they pounced him again.
Still. He couldn't quite give up either. "Vampires. Hunter. Bad idea. Cats do not ever play with their mice in a good way."
Alessandro rolled his eyes. "I'm sick of this predator and prey nonsense humans go on about. Can a cat turn a mouse into a cat? No."
Preston blinked. He'd…never thought of it that way before. "Um—"
"Shut up, Preston," Tremont said, and it was all kinds of distracting the way they said his name now instead of simply 'hunter' and he tried, he really did try, to resist the consuming kiss that took his mouth, the way Tremont became Alessandro, the way kissing them became watching them kiss again and he rather thought he could come just watching that—
He sort of just stared, feeling dazed, as they came at him again. "My family is going to fucking kill me," he said, because his mother was seriously going to come after him with one of his own knives whenever she found out about this.
Something flashed in their eyes – hard and fierce, but he recognized it as vampires being possessive, protective. "You belong to us, Preston," Alessandro said firmly. He smirked. "It's the duty of a top hunter to keep the peace amongst top vampires, yes?"
"Yes," Preston said, and he was not smiling – except he was, and perhaps even fondly. "Though I sense if I'm going to be this companion thing or whatever to the two of you, then I'm going to be the reason you start up a feud with Richard."
They pounced him, making that weird growl-hiss noise, one behind, one in front. This time there was nothing teasing or gentle about their teeth as they bit down. He jerked, crying out in pain, but the arms that held him firmly in place were gentle and somehow comforting.
Almost as quickly as they'd bit him they stopped, and pain turned to pleasure as teeth were replace by lips and the dizzying kisses resumed.
"Ours," Tremont said quietly, but with steel in his voice. "We'll share with each other, but no one else. Understand, hunter?"
Preston smiled despite himself, tired of arguing. If they were finally getting along, who was he to protest? This was better than their bitching, definitely. "Yeah," he said.
They both made noises of agreement and approval, then fell to proving just how well they had learned to share.
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Date: 2007-12-25 10:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-25 10:38 pm (UTC)I pity poor Richard, too. He's no match for Alessandro and Tremont now that they have something to protect. XD
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Date: 2007-12-25 10:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-25 10:51 pm (UTC)PrestonAlessandro,Good boys.
And now for an encore, you can kick Richard's arse. We'd all appreciate that.
Love,
Me.
P.S Awesome story again. Definitely made my day.
P.P.S Apparently not having coffee makes me think Preston is a vampire. I fail at life.
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Date: 2007-12-25 10:57 pm (UTC)Hope you had a relaxing Christmas, Maderr.
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Date: 2007-12-25 11:17 pm (UTC)Bwa ha ha! Richard is so outclassed!
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Date: 2007-12-25 11:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-25 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-25 11:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-25 11:38 pm (UTC)Loved the fic. Becareful what you wish for etc etc. ;)
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Date: 2007-12-25 11:39 pm (UTC)Although, you know you've totally set yourself up for Richard-related whining. I kinda of liked him better than Alessandro and Tremont, but that's because I always like the sorta-jerks. And I really enjoy this new sandbox you've created to play in - you seem to create new worlds so effortlessly, M.
Ah, vampires - what everyone really wants for Christmas! ;)
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Date: 2007-12-25 11:40 pm (UTC)Lovely Christmas present, sweets! Thanks you so much for sharing. *snugs*
So, do we get to meet Billie?*innocent* Merry Christmas, hon. I hope you had a lovely day!no subject
Date: 2007-12-25 11:43 pm (UTC)*fangirling madly*
OMG. I loved the rewrite of Locke & Key, and Preston's tale is oh so yummy.
I confess, I want to meet Mama and Billie and the rest of the clan. Mmm, Locke & Key, and Preston with Alessandro and Tremont - Sunday supper with Mama will never be the same.
*grin*
Oh, come on. Go ahead and write more of this tale. You know you wanna.
*beams*
You're just amazing.
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Date: 2007-12-25 11:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-26 12:17 am (UTC)He put alot of time and effort to explain what it was he wanted from Preston. Preston allowing himself to be claimed removes some of his bargaining power with other vampires most espesically Richard. A vampire doesn't have to be as nice if he can't get anything from it. Too, if he's been got once he can be got again. But isn't it nice that the two are sharing him. Loved the sound of vampire possessiveness (surprise right?.. yummy vampires) and they'll even protect him from his mother *snerk*.
Thankyou.
No the package didn't make it to the post office Monday. I bought ALL the presents for family in 3 days go me. Am thinking tomorrow when everyone else is doing after Christmas sales would be a real good time to smile at the postal person. Will post when it goes so you can be looking for it.
Til then..Merry Christmas to you.
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Date: 2007-12-26 12:22 am (UTC)Ack! You don't have to send anything ^^;;
Heh, I always love your comments, esp. when I write vampires <3
Urgh, I'm sensing I should do something for poor Richard. Drat. He was supposed to be a jerk, but somehow he didn't quite cooperate. Yargh. ^^;
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Date: 2007-12-26 12:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-26 01:28 am (UTC)Random thought: does Preston have a free pass at the airport?? Cause that must be a lot of flights he has to take every month.
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Date: 2007-12-26 02:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-26 03:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-26 03:45 am (UTC)I liked this story lots (despite the vampires--I've never cared for vampires)! Only you can make me read vampires.
But now I want Preston's mom to show up, smack him for getting involved, smack them for being babies and involving her baby, and then demote Preston to watching just Tremont and Alessandro. Otherwise, adding keeping those two fed and sexed with watching over eleven other tops will kill him in months.
p.s. I got the box! Thank you, M and R! Cookies were a bit crumbled but super-nummy!
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Date: 2007-12-26 06:06 am (UTC)http://fc02.deviantart.com/fs23/f/2007/359/8/5/original__Preston01_by_chkc.jpg
Hope you don't mind me mutilating your characters again ^^" Will colour as soon as I get some sleep ^^""""
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Date: 2007-12-26 04:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-26 04:52 pm (UTC)That was awesome. ^^ Can you imagine Preston introducing his new boyfriends to his mum? XD
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Date: 2007-12-26 05:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-26 10:03 pm (UTC)omg, i haven't properly squee-ed, have i? D:
but i ended up liking Richard for some reason... >.>;
<.<;
-shiftyeyes-
:D i'd like to see him again.
but the threesome is the love <3 ONGGG. this story cheers me up :D
merry er. christmas. i guess.
D:
my results are today and NUUUU. T__T
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Date: 2007-12-26 11:00 pm (UTC)Waaahhh *_____* Dude, you totally blow me away every time. I love your style, yus.
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Date: 2007-12-27 05:19 am (UTC)Now fanart comes in coloured variation :)
http://fc05.deviantart.com/fs22/f/2007/360/5/9/preston01_coloured_BL_by_chkc.jpg
- chkc
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Date: 2007-12-27 07:56 am (UTC)I love this world, and how vampire hunters are diplomats and police officer types as well as vampire killers.
Preston is so oblivious. He's so focused on the feeding aspect of vampires that he's completely discounting even the possibility of their interest in him having a sexual aspect.
Also the cat turning a mouse into a cat comment killed me dead.
The vampire idea of attractiveness amuses me: the more ass you can kick the hotter you are.
It's like the Jusenkyo amazon's or something- you whupped my ass, so now I'm going to marry you.
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Date: 2007-12-27 04:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-27 10:41 pm (UTC)Now if only we could have seen a little more of this threesome instead of just implications... *drool*
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Date: 2007-12-28 02:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-29 12:27 am (UTC)er, hehe....
Date: 2008-01-12 12:12 pm (UTC)love the idea of sharing.... hehehe... *^^*
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Date: 2008-02-23 04:36 pm (UTC)Will Billie get his own story?
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Date: 2008-02-23 04:38 pm (UTC)Lol. I'll post drabbles if any come to me. ATM, all is quiet.
Mm, not unless peeps want to hear about him and his wife ^^;;
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Date: 2008-02-23 04:41 pm (UTC)Here, I feed you lots of virtual what-ever-you-like to encourage plot bunnies.
*shamelessly*
If not Preston....then Bey/Nanda would be excellent! XD
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Date: 2008-08-06 05:18 pm (UTC)Oh I like Preston. And Tremont and Sandro of course but wow, Preston, wow. This totally made my day. Thank you.
I am wondering about Richard now. He was supposed to appear a jerk, but halfway through him actually taking the time to explain things to Preston, I like some of that may have gotten lost XD
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Date: 2008-12-15 01:22 pm (UTC)