Chapter Text
George stares as the rain falls steadily down the sidewalk, blurring both his gaze and everything around him—or maybe that’s just the tears. He wipes angrily as another one threatens to drip past his chin. He hates crying with a passion, which is ironic considering how often he does it. He’s usually able to blink them away rather quickly, before they fall, before anyone gets to see. But tonight he’s too exhausted to fight them—and besides, he’s alone.
He hasn’t seen a single car drive past the street he’s in, and it’s been twenty minutes. It’s dark and quiet except for the rain and a couple of crickets. He isn’t sure when he’s going to leave, maybe once the sun begins teasing the sky. He’s in no rush to return to his dorm. He knows Alex will yell the minute he wakes him up considering he’s been talking about today’s final for the past two months. He could maybe text Sapnap but then again, he’d yell at him and say I told you so , which George isn’t in the mood to hear. So he’ll stay here, instead.
He groans into the palms of his hands and feels the skin get wet with the tears in his rosy cheeks. This is a new low—getting dumped so far from campus he can barely remember the way back. He’ll have to call a fucking cab and those are expensive. Great. This is all just so great. Sapnap was right, he saw the red flags that George stupidly ignored because, what, he was feeling lonely? Yes. But he needs to wake the fuck up and stop making terrible decisions that always end in heartbreak.
“I’m done,” he mumbles to himself as he allows his hands to fall back to his sides. Done dating for at least the rest of the year. Done done done. He knows what Alex would say if he heard him, “you always say that and it never lasts.” This time will be different though. It has to be.
“Are you okay?”
George manages to swallow down the yell that almost abandons his mouth just in time. He looks up from the ground to find a man around his age staring at him with curious yet worried eyes—and George knows he has a type of guy he usually goes for (tall, broad shoulders, pretty eyes)—but this stranger looks like he would be anyone’s type.
He’s by far the most handsome guy he’s ever laid his eyes on in person—he looks like a celebrity, with light, ashy brown hair that falls a bit into his green piercing eyes. He’s so tall that George has to crane his neck to properly meet them, which he knows is also related to him sitting on the ground but he’s positive he’d still be massive even if he were standing.
“I—uh, yeah,” he stupidly mumbles out, although he isn’t sure how he looks but it musn’t be a great sight—messy dark curls and red cheeks and tear stained eyes. He’s still wearing that jerk’s hoodie but it’s too cold to take it off even if he hates it.
He watches the pretty eyes run up and down George’s body before the stranger seems to come to a decision and suddenly sits by his side. Oh god.
“You don’t look so great,” he says, and his voice is so soothing he wonders how he didn’t notice it sooner. It sounds like music to his ears, calm and comforting and warm—George finds himself nodding a bit in acknowledgement, briefly wondering where this man even came from considering he was sure he was by himself and he hasn’t seen any cars parked around the gas station he’s in. Maybe he lives nearby? He sends a glance over his shoulder and is met with nothing but the shadows of trees; the woods. Okay. Maybe not.
He sniffs and watches as the stranger comes up with a tissue that he offers him with slender fingers he tries not to stare too fixedly at.
“Thank you. I’m—what’s your name?”
“You can call me Dream,” he says and George blinks dizzily back at him. Dream . Is that a nickname? It has to be. He notices then the clothes he’s wearing—tight fitted jeans and a black button down. He has no jacket on despite the cold weather but he doesn’t seem to feel it as he cocks his head to the side and asks, “Yours?”
“George.”
Dream hums in approval and he has no idea what that means.
“You need a ride home, George?”
“I—” he hesitates, blowing his nose to buy some time. He doesn’t know this guy but then again if he’s going to get murdered it will probably happen whether he refused or not. And he does need a ride home. “I guess I do...it’s kinda far, though. Are you from here?”
Dream licks his lips and George’s eyelids feel heavy as he takes a whiff of his cologne the moment he twists his body towards him. It’s addicting—sandalwood and a hint of jasmine. Nothing like that idiot’s hoodie that smells of cheap perfume and weed. Gross. He can’t believe he dated that guy for three months.
“Yeah, but I don’t mind,” he says in that endlessly calm voice of his again. George finds himself believing him against his better judgment. He watches him lean close enough that he can see the moonlight reflected on his irises before he adds, “You shouldn’t be out by yourself around this area, you know?”
George considers looking around them once again, but he can’t quite bring himself to look away from Dream. He has the pinkest, most perfect lips. His features are perfect, as if sculpted by some sort of deity. How is he real?
“W-why is that?”
Dream smiles, and there’s something predatory in his eyes when in a single whisper he explains everything George needed to know.
“You’re in vampire territory.”
He freezes, his heart skipping a beat at the word. He’s not an idiot, he knows of vampires, the same way everyone knows of them in the city—they’re in the tales your parents tell you when you’re a kid, they’re mentioned in the news at least once a week, they teach you self-defense in high school (as if that would be nearly enough) and you hear rumors about them in passing. George has never seen one in the flesh, though. Not in his twenty-three years of life. It’s only Alex who’s seen them, who’s even talked to one when he was eighteen and was traumatized for life by the encounter.
He has watched movies about them, too. But in those they always look terrifying and deadly and not at all…like this . Sure, people usually do say they’re pretty and movies are being dramatic but he didn't expect such unreal beauty.
Suddenly a lot makes sense, though. He doesn’t know where he is—that idiot drove them to the middle of nowhere to have sex before dumping him and driving away, but he thinks they can’t be that far. It only took them around twenty minutes to get here. Vampire territory. Okay, he definitely didn’t know that was a thing.
“It’s okay, George,” Dream chuckles then before standing up, eyes amused. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
George thinks he would maybe even let him if he keeps looking at him this way. He shivers.
“No?”
The vampire shrugs, “I’ll give you a ride if you want.”
“For free?” he narrows his eyes in suspicion.
Dream smirks. “Ah, well. You’re smart, aren’t you? Mm,” he extends a hand then and George only hesitates for a second before letting him pull him up from the ground. His skin isn’t cold like he once read online—it’s warm and inviting. Dream doesn’t let go of his hand, squeezing gently before he says, “Has anyone ever drunk from you before?”
Oh fuck.
“N-no.”
Dream hums and George tries badly not to succumb under his charm but it’s becoming increasingly difficult. He can barely remember why he was crying only minutes ago or the cold wind as it picks up around them. He feels the vampire use his free hand to raise his chin, angling it his way and the touch might be feeble but it lingers. “Well, it can feel really nice.”
George gulps. He can’t believe he’s even considering it, but what else is he supposed to do? Say no and call a cab and get the fuck away from there , a voice that sounds a lot like Alex resonates inside his head. But Dream’s hand is so soft and his eyes are so green and he offered him a free ride—well, not free but maybe—
“It sounds like—like it hurts,” he admits.
Dream nods.
“A bit, at first. But something tells me you’ll like it a lot,” he adds in a whisper and George thinks he might be insane for trusting a stranger, a vampire , at that. But he doesn’t have the best record for good decision making anyway and Dream smells so good and his lips—
“You’ll drive me home after?”
“Of course.”
He could kill me , he realizes as he lets out a shaky breath. But it’s not like he could outrun a vampire anyway. He can’t even outrun Sapnap when they’re playing football. If Dream wants to hurt or murder him, he can do it even if he says no to his proposal. Why would he suggest it if it didn’t matter what he would say either way?
“Okay.”
Dream lets go of his hand and George almost complains but then he’s holding him by the waist, chests glued together, and he’s tilting his head in a way that exposes his neck. Despite having expected it, he didn’t think it would happen this quickly—but then again, why else would he wait? It’s not raining anymore, is what he thinks of for an instant before Dream sends one last look at him and his mouth hovers over his pulse.
“You can hold onto me if you want,” he says and George isn’t sure what he means by that and is about to ask when suddenly Dream sinks his fangs into him and he melts.
He was right, it is painful at first but the burn lasts one, two, three seconds before the pleasure that suddenly curses through his veins makes him gasp. He’s had a lot of sex before, and although none of the experiences were life-changingly good, they were still pleasurable enough for him to seek them every few weeks.
This is better than sex. It’s a wave he rides blindfolded, a rollercoaster that never stops going up. As his self-control slips bit by bit the longer Dream sucks on his neck, George’s hands seek to stabilize his body and find shelter in the vampire’s shoulders, realizing then what he meant.
He shuts his eyes and allows himself to get lost in the bliss that wraps around his body like tight vines—he pulls him closer, feeling those heavenly soft lips parted over his skin and then there’s a tongue licking at the open wound and something warm dripping down his skin— blood. His hands go numb as they fist on Dream's shirt, heartbeat slowing down and a quiet calmness flooding his mind.
The sound Dream makes after he’s done will forever remain engraved inside his brain. It’s a groan of ecstasy that goes straight to his cock and it’s just when the vampire gives one last lick to his neck that he realizes he’s rock hard inside his jeans. Is that a normal reaction?
George feels floaty as he blinks back at him, unsteadily still holding onto him. He watches Dream wipe his now cherry stained lips with the back of his hand and notices that his eyes look just as red now. He never imagined someone with blood in their mouth would be the hottest thing he’s ever seen and yet…
“You did well, love,” Dream says then, running a hand through George’s messy locks before holding his hand once again. He leans into his side, legs still feeling weak and an odd burning spreading down his chest at the sound of those words. He’s embarrassed by his body’s reaction to this whole thing, but he must be used to this, he briefly thinks as Dream leads him away from the gas station. He thinks he sees a shadow running off from the other side of the street, and Dream must notice it too as he adds, “Don’t worry about them. They won’t approach you with me here.”
George frowns but he’s still too dizzy to make sense of his words, so he follows him instead. He knows he’s walking too slowly but the vampire doesn’t complain. He expects to see a car parked somewhere in the vicinity, or maybe he’s finally going to kill him in the middle of the woods—but after a couple of minutes Dreams stops right in front of a huge motorcycle with a leather seat and he blinks at it.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any helmets with me. But don’t worry, I’m an excellent driver,” Dream says as he pulls him closer. George has never ridden anything like this before, and the idea of not wearing a helmet sounds terrifying, but his tongue is heavy in his mouth when he tries to speak. Dream’s observant eyes notice his hesitation as he sits and pats the spot right in front of him—in the middle of his big, thick thighs. “Trust me, George.”
Trust me. George has a track history of trusting the wrong people. The situation he's in right now is a byproduct of that very curse that has followed him since he was a kid— George darling, you're not supposed to jump head first into a pool without checking if it's full first, his mother used to tell him.
And yet George always, always jumps.
He nods as he shakily sits in the space between him and the handles. Dream is even closer than he expected him to be, his chest glued to his back as he starts the engine and the motorcycle growls into life. God, this is a very messed up night.
“You live on campus?”
“Yeah—”
“Thought so. Let’s go then,” he says and before George gets another word out Dream takes a U turn and drives them down the driveway.
——————————
It takes them ten minutes and George’s legs are trembling when Dream helps him back down. He is no longer dizzy from the bite, the wind having sobered him up completely. Still, he can feel the exact spot where he bit him, like a dull throb on the side of his neck.
It must be around six a.m. judging by the colors shifting in the sky. Alex should be waking up soon.
“Thanks for the ride,” George says, although he immediately wants to take it back because Dream was just taking up his part of the deal and it wasn't a joyous experience—he's pretty sure he would've yelled in fear if it hadn't been for the numbing effect on his body. Dream wasn't lying about being a good driver though, his reflexes were insane. Vampire genes, he guesses. He really should look this all up.
He watches him smile then, and his eyes are a forest green as he gets back on his motorcycle.
“I’d love to make more deals with you in the future, George,” he muses, his voice reaching past his skin and making a home somewhere in his sternum. “Would you like that, too?”
He would like to do a lot of things with Dream, he briefly thinks.
“I—maybe.”
The vampire smiles at that, an expression George is getting a bit used to—he wants to see it again and again and again—
“Yeah? Mm. We’re going to have so much fun together,” Dream whispers as his finger runs down the edge of George’s throat and he isn't even sure when they got so close again. Was it him?
“We—we are?”
“Of course," he says as if it were obvious. Maybe it is. "You know where to find me. Have a good day, pretty,” and with that, he’s gone.
————————————————————
“How was your night with fuckface?” is the first thing Alex asks him the moment he makes it past the door. George rolls his eyes as he grabs the nearest scarf he can find before turning around and wrapping it around his neck. He isn’t even sure it’s his, but it was laying on the floor so it might as well be anyone’s.
He’s glad to find that his friend has his back to him, hunched over their desk with a coffee, probably revising. At 6 a.m on a Saturday—god, he’s insane.
“It was—”
Alex turns around at the sound of his voice and immediately asks, “Why are you wearing a scarf? Since when do you hide your dumb high school hickeys?”
For fuck’s sakes.
“I’m just cold,” he easily lies as he takes off his shoes and throws himself on his bed. He might sleep for the rest of the day and skip his Biology II class. Why did he even think of signing up for a class on a Saturday? Alex’s awful influence, probably.
“Yeah, right.”
George peeks at him with the eye that isn’t pressing against the comforter and snorts. “What is it to you? Go study.”
Alex narrows his eyes at him and slowly turns his chair his way. He hates how smart he is sometimes—he can always tell when he’s being lied to and it’s not just because he’s known George for years. He’s just that fucking clever.
“Take it off.”
“What?”
“Take off the scarf, George.”
“I’m not doing what you tell me to do. Fuck off.”
His friend rolls his eyes and after only a tiny moment of hesitation, throws himself on top of him and pulls at the scarf until it comes off. George is too startled to fight back in time—his reflexes have always been shit and he hasn’t had a single hour of sleep, sue him. He tries to cover the bite mark but he’s too slow and Alex audibly gasps as he sits on his back.
“What the actual fuck is that,” he says as George buries his face deeper into his pillow hoping to erase the entire night. Except, he wouldn’t even if he could. He can almost taste Dream’s perfume in his mouth and it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. “ George. Did you—how did you even—is your dumb boyfriend a vampire ?”
The older groans as he turns around and pushes Alex off him. “Okay, first of all. He dumped me so… ex boyfriend,” he clarifies, although he isn’t fazed by it anymore. Fuck that guy. He wasn't even that good in bed. “Second of all—no. He wasn’t a vampire. I would’ve known, we dated for three months.”
Alex blinks at him, unimpressed. “You can be exceptionally stupid,” he states. “Wait, he dumped you? Wait , who the fuck bit you then?”
George blushes and prays that his friend doesn’t notice the sudden blood rushing to his ears as well as the rest of his face. It feels almost like none of it happened, even if it’s been less than half an hour since Dream dropped him off.
“Uh—just someone I met…” he averts his gaze, fingers playing with a loose thread on the comforter.
“ What ?”
Suddenly there’s a loud knock on their door and before either of them can answer, it bursts open and Sapnap comes walking in with Punz on his back. George rolls his eyes at the sight of them. The last thing he needs is more questions about this.
“You know, the whole point of knocking is waiting for someone to let you in,” Alex tells him but Sapnap ignores him as he carefully sets a very asleep Punz on the empty bed. “What happened to him?”
“He drank a bit too much.”
“And why are you two here and not at your own dorm?” Alex asks, although to be fair they all saunter in and out of each other’s dorms as if they owned them. George has spent the night more than a couple of times when he was too lazy to make it back home and vice versa. He can tell why Alex is bothered by it though; he wants George to tell him what happened and knows the chances of him talking about private stuff are usually lower when there’s more people around—even if it’s his other best friends.
“This was closer and I love Punz but he’s heavy as fuck. I’m not the Rock.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” George mumbles out, which was a mistake because Sapnap looks at him and his eyes immediately zero in on his neck. How big is that mark? He should’ve checked on the mirror, fuck.
“What the—who bit you?”
Alex audibly sighs. “That's what I’m trying to find out. George, this is serious. Do you know how dangerous it is to be around vampires?”
He crosses his arms over his chest before realizing he's still wearing that ugly hoodie and taking it off. Maybe he should burn it.
“Well, how is that my fault? That stupid jerk dumped me in the middle of nowhere and drove off!”
“Your boyfriend? Where the fuck is he? I’m gonna fuck him up—” Sapnap says, immediately moving towards the door. George smiles at him even though he's pretty sure his friend wouldn't hurt a fly. He'd definitely try, though.
“Sapnap, calm down," Alex tells him before turning his attention back on him. "What happened then?”
George looks away. “Well, the uh vampire was there. He was really nice, you know? He asked me if I was okay with him biting me in exchange for a ride home and he was super gentle—” he explains, but when he looks back up he finds both his friends staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips. “What?”
“George, I know you can be a bit…naive, sometimes. And you like people way too quickly—but this is a vampire we’re talking about. They are not nice. Have you seen the news? I told you about that time one of them—”
“I know that, okay? I’m not fucking twelve. But Dream was nice to me,” he says, because he was. And okay, maybe part of that was to get him to say yes, but he could've just bitten him anyway. He was polite and even offered him a tissue.
…fiine, his standards are low by now.
“Dream?!” Alex snaps then, looking like he's just seen a ghost. It’s a miracle their yelling hasn’t woken Punz up yet.
“Yes?”
Sapnap is quick to shake his head, shaking his finger at George in mistrust. “Nah, no way. He’s fucking with us. It’s a prank, Alex. Ignore him.”
Huh?
“What? What prank?”
Alex shares an unreadable look with Sapnap—they have a lot of those and George hates not being able to tell what any of them mean—before looking him straight in the eye. He's never been great with eye contact and this is no exception. “George,” he starts, voice gentle. “This is important. What did he look like?”
He swallows. “Why are you…asking that?”
“Because if that guy is the one that’s always on the news then—then we need to call the police.”
Oh. Wait, what? Police?
George feels his mouth run dry as he struggles to come up with an answer.
He isn’t one to watch the news much—who is, though? He’s twenty-three years old and busy with both uni and a social life. He knows there's been some attacks around town every now and then but that’s it. Surely he’s talking about someone else—but then again, how many would call themselves Dream ? It's not a common name. And who is he to say he isn’t some sort of…murderer?
But he didn’t hurt him…he doesn’t want to rat him out to the police without even reading the news himself. It feels wrong, for reasons he can't even fully understand himself.
You don’t know him , a voice in his head says.
There’s also a weird tugging in his chest telling him to lie. And so he does.
“He was short, had dark hair. Blue eyes,” he replies and it comes out easily, no stuttering or sweaty palms. Alex tilts his head, observing him while parting his lips, ready to say something else before Sapnap thankfully interrupts,
“Yeah, that’s not him. No way he would've let you live anyway. Probably just an idiot pranking you ,” he laughs, suddenly finding the whole thing more amusing than scary. “But stay away from desolated places next time, dude. You could’ve died.”
George rolls his eyes. “I didn’t go there by myself. So yeah, won’t happen again, dad.”
“Sorry for worrying and loving you, idiot,” Sapnap grunts out but he’s quick to wrap him in his arms until George is yelling at him to get off and waking a very confused Punz up.
Alex doesn’t say anything else, but he can still feel his eyes looking at him during the rest of the day.
——————————————
George thinks of Dream a lot . How can he not, when he can see the big bite mark every time he showers and the make up he put on that morning slides right off, when he falls asleep and dreams of sharp fangs he never got the chance to see, and ashy light brown hair and eyes so green you can see entire forests through them? Alex doesn’t ask any more questions about that night, but he can tell he’s keeping an eye on him every time he leaves the dorm. He knows he’s just being a good friend but it gets on his nerves.
He remembers the exact words Dream said to him before leaving—you know where to find me. And he does, but he doesn’t own a car and taking a cab to an empty gas station twenty minutes away from campus, right in vampire territory, just to maybe see him again seems…well, insane if not suicidal. Dream might not even be there and if he is, who is to say someone won’t find him first and maybe kill him for real this time?
He talks himself out of it every night as the sky turns dark but the tugging in his chest resides, a voice in the innermost parts of himself telling him to go, to see him again.
He reads the news and his friends are right, Dream comes up in a lot of newspapers—a couple of blurry pictures of a black dressed, tall blonde man spread throughout the internet. Scary headlines with the words WANTED and a bunch of other names he doesn’t recognize. Endless threads on both Twitter and Reddit of people claiming to have seen him.
‘Local police seek any information on the whereabouts of the suspects below. All suspects are extremely dangerous. IF SEEN, CONTACT POLICE IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT ENGAGE OR TAKE ANY ACTION BY YOURSELF.’
He understands after reading that one why Alex and Sapnap reacted the way that they did, but the more he reads the more confused he is. There doesn’t seem to be any actual proof of Dream being behind the vampire attacks that happen sporadically across town—just hearsay and witnesses that recognize him as some sort of coven leader...whatever that means.
He finds a very blurry footage of a vampire attacking a woman in the middle of the street, but he can’t see anything but blood and the victim’s crying eyes—George doesn’t remember having lost that much blood when it happened. This looks more like an assault , which makes him think again that Dream went really easy on him.
He must be going truly insane if he’s even considering meeting him after all this, though. No one in their right mind would willingly put themselves back in such a dangerous situation after having been lucky enough to get out once. And yet—
Maybe his friends were right. Maybe George really is fucking naive, because only a week and a half later he ends up going from his latest class, when the sky is dark and littered with stars, taking a cab and heading to an isolated gas station…to meet with a vampire sought by the police.
——————————————
“Are you sure it’s here?” the driver asks him the moment they make it there. George stares out the window and reconsiders all of his life choices for about half a minute. The gas station is lit up like last time, but it’s completely empty. No cars and definitely no people around. The man must notice it too as he adds, “Pretty sure this is…kinda abandoned.”
George shakes his head. He already made it here, he can’t be a coward now. “Uh, yeah. It’s here. Thank you, keep the change.”
The driver thanks him as he gets out, and he ignores the slight tremor of fear as he watches the car speed away.
Damn. He’s really fucked now.
He feels his phone go off in his pocket as he reaches the spot he was sitting in that night and glances at the screen.
Alex
where u at??
we’re getting food with sap and punz
George
class ran late
eat without me
Alex
okay loser
George ignores the slight pang of guilt—he hates lying but what else is he supposed to do? It isn’t that late anyway, he’ll probably be back before midnight…well, if he doesn’t get murdered, that is.
As he glances around himself the fear increases in steady waves and his hands start to shake. The place is eerily quiet and he didn’t notice how creepy it was last time he was here—he was too busy crying his eyes out and cursing his ex, to be fair.
Okay. So maybe he didn’t think this through even if he told himself that he did. Perhaps he’s impulsive and naive. Oh god.
Maybe he can still catch the cab if he runs?
He hears a sound from behind him and gasps, only to realize it was the wind making a few leaves fly away. He sighs out in relief, hand pressed to his chest as he turns back around only to find there’s definitely a person standing in front of him and—it’s definitely not Dream.
George bites the inside of his cheek and gets to his feet in shaking legs. It’s a girl. She looks young—younger than him. But now he can immediately recognize she’s a vampire. She’s gorgeous, with short hair so blonde it looks almost white, her skin pale and her lips red as they spread into a grin.
“Well, well. Are you lost?”
“I—” he gulps, wondering if he looks just as nervous and scared as he feels. “No.”
Her smile only widens and it’s the creepiest yet loveliest thing he’s ever seen.
“I’m Niki. What’s your name?”
“I…I’m looking for Dream,” he says instead of answering. He isn’t sure how many vampires there are in this town, but he guesses if this one is here she might probably know of him…at least, he really hopes so.
Niki raises an eyebrow before scoffing. “You and everyone else. But he isn’t here, so why don’t you come with me and we—”
He takes a step back. “No. Thank you.”
The girl doesn’t seem to like his answer as she crosses her thin arms over her chest and takes an even bigger step towards him.
“No? Well, I wasn’t really asking .”
“Niki, back off,” a voice suddenly says and George turns to find yet another vampire approaching them from the woods. He’s wearing a long black trench coat over a turtleneck and big reading glasses. He looks like a professor that could teach at his university, but then again he also looks around his age.
Of course, he’s also very fucking hot. No surprise there.
The girl exhales as she rolls her eyes, her thick eyelashes catching George’s eye. “Karl, come on. Why?”
The vampire shrugs, hands buried in his coat’s pockets. “He isn’t lying. He’s Dream’s. Find someone else.”
He’s Dream’s. George gulps as he looks between them. He doesn’t dare contradict either of them, he isn’t stupid but…what? He only let him bite him once , how is he now his property? Is that how it works? Alex didn’t mention anything about owning. Maybe he should’ve done more research.
Niki turns back his way, her eyes sliding up and down his body the same way Dream’s did that night, seizing him up. She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth once their eyes meet once again. “Huh. Interesting. Well, it was not nice to meet you. Bye,” and with that, she disappears to their left. George stares at the spot she was just in with wide eyes.
What the fuck. He read a bit about them having powers but he didn’t think they were that fast. Why does Dream even use a motorcycle if he can get to places in a matter of seconds?
“George, right?” he asks him then. The younger turns back towards Karl and silently nods, still too shocked to speak. “Well if you wanna see Dream, come with me. Waiting here won’t really get you anywhere.”
George frowns. It was Dream himself who told him he knew where to find him, what else was he supposed to do?
“He said—”
“You’ll soon learn Dream is cryptic as fuck,” he chuckles, already heading back to the woods. George is quick to follow, although his heart skips a beat at the sight of the dark, endless trees. “This place is full of vamps. You’ll get eaten in a minute. You’re lucky I’m on patrol duty tonight,” he continues. George can’t believe he’s following him, but he doesn’t have many options right now. Fuck. He’s so dumb for having come here.
They remain in silence for a couple more seconds, but not even a minute goes by before Karl talks again.
“So, you came back.”
“Uh…yeah.”
“You’re very brave. Or maybe very stupid. Either works, I guess,” he giggles. George is getting a bit done with being called stupid but he can’t exactly deny it considering the situation he is in. “Dream is kinda busy tonight, but I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Busy with what?”
Karl sends him a look over his shoulder at that before laughing. It’s a nice sound, contagious enough that he thinks he’d be laughing too if he wasn’t fucking terrified and trying not to trip on the many branches on the ground. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
George doesn’t ask any more questions after that, but Karl keeps talking undeterred, and about all sorts of things—the weather, how he hates the cold because he patrols the woods twice a week and it makes him want to cry. So you guys do get cold? he wants to ask but doesn’t. Then he mentions his birthday coming up next month and how he wants to get a tattoo on his arm but isn’t entirely sure as to which would be the best spot, ‘Like I wanna see it but not all the time, you know?’
It’s a very odd experience, hearing him talk, because he sounds excited and giddy and even a little bit silly—just like his friends do. Like a human. If anyone were to tell him he’s just a random college guy, he wouldn’t blink twice at it. How is this supposed to be one of the terrifying monsters his parents and teachers have warned him about?
“Anyway, you should wait here. I don’t want the others to smell you and get annoying,” Karl says at one point. They’ve been walking for the past fifteen minutes—they’re so deep in the woods that he wouldn’t know which direction to run to get back to the station.
“Wait—what if someone sees me here?”
“Don’t worry, we’re still a bit far. No one is around this area,” Karl explains. He must see the fear in George’s eyes because he laughs. “Look, I won’t let them hurt you. You’re under Dream’s protection now. Be back quick.”
He’s gone before George gets to ask him what the fuck any of that means.
——————————————
Karl was right. George is completely alone and he’s only gone for like five minutes—though they do feel like half an hour when you’re in the middle of the woods at 10 p.m, without reception on your phone. His heart is beating so fast he can feel it in his throat by the time Karl is back.
“Damn, chill, George. I was only gone for like a second.”
“You were not gone for a second,” he says, but Karl rolls his eyes at him as he leans against a tree. He doesn’t even look remotely out of breath despite having gone to who knows where.
“Whatever. Look, Dream said he’ll be here soon. I’ll stay with you until he does, okay? Now, tell me about your little human life,” he says back, but before George gets to reply he leans away from the tree and asks in a low voice, “Do you guys honestly get sick that often?”
George stares at him. “Weren’t you human at one point, too?”
Karl shrugs.
“That was a hundred years ago, I don’t remember.”
George gasps in horror—it’s one thing to know vampires are supposed to be decades older and another one to be told upfront by one of them—but before Karl gets to say anything else, there’s a hand suddenly wrapped around his waist and he feels his back pressed against a very sturdy chest. He can tell who it is immediately, the sandalwood perfume making his mouth water.
“Karl, why are you scaring him?” Dream’s calm voice asks him.
“I wasn’t scaring him. It’s my age!” he huffs offended.
“Well, he sounds scared. Leave.”
“Fine, damn. Call me if you need me,” and with that, he heads back into the woods and disappears in less than a second. He wonders where he went to, if there’s a place they all live in together, some sort of community or was it—coven?
George stays frozen in place until Dream spins him around. His beauty is still breathtaking. He honestly can’t believe someone this beautiful even exists.
“I apologize for Karl. He’s a bit too much at times.”
“I—It’s okay. H-he said you were busy, I didn’t know…”
“Mm, I am. But I’m glad you came back,” he says, and that voice is doing unspeakable things to him as he feels him run a finger down his cheek. He tries not to lean into the touch but he isn’t sure he entirely succeeds judging by the amused expression on Dream’s face. “You’re scared.”
“Uh…a little bit. I…” he shivers. It’s still a cold night but his tremors have nothing to do with the weather. “I read about you on the news.”
Dream nods as if he had expected this. “Well, do you believe everything they say on the news?”
George really, really doesn’t. Especially now that he’s met Karl, too. He thinks he recognizes his name from one of the websites he visited. They’re looking for him, too. Karl with the loud laughter that rang through the woods and his birthday party he wants George to go to if he’s free. It doesn’t make any sense.
“No?”
“Good,” he whispers, his knuckle now running up and down his red cheek. He can probably feel the warmth there, maybe even the blood running through his veins. Is it tempting, he wants to ask. Do you want to drink from me again?
“I…why did you tell me your name if they’re looking for you?” he asks then, and he isn’t sure how he’s managing to stay focused when Dream is the most distracting creature he’s ever met. He can’t stop thinking about his hands on him, his perfume, his lips, his voice, his eyes as they stare right through him.
“The police know where to find me. You know why they don’t try to get me anymore?” he asks, tilting his head and making a strand of hair fall across his forehead as he regards him with careful eyes. “Because they’re scared.” George isn’t sure this is going to help calm him down at all, but Dream is quick to add, “But you don’t have to be, George. I won’t harm you.”
“Why not?”
Dream licks his lips, his hand falling back to his side. “Because I like you.”
George blinks at him, confusion written all over his face.
“But you don’t even know me.”
“I like pretty things,” he muses as if it were that simple, and George can feel the blood rush to his head with the compliment. It’s the second time he’s called him that and he didn’t know he’d like it that much until now—guys before have called him handsome, hot or even beautiful but…never pretty.
“I lied to my friends about you,” he says then because he’s never been one to react well to compliments, even if he loves the praise. “They said I’m naive.”
Dream makes a sound at that, half surprised, half entertained. George leans a bit closer without realizing it, but the vampire is quick to notice the shift and smiles. Something tells him he notices everything about him.
“You’re a bit naive, but that’s okay,” he says and then he’s wrapping his arm more securely around his waist. He’s so big—not just tall but his shoulders are broad too and his arms are full of strong muscle as he feels it pressing against him. Even his hands are wide enough that they could cover his entire waist if they wanted to.
George is distracted enough by this realization that it takes him a couple of seconds to snap out of his stupor and ask, “What were you busy with?”
He chuckles.
“I can’t tell you that.”
George narrows his eyes at him and without thinking twice about it says, “So you don’t trust me.”
“Come on now. Trust is earned, George,” Dream tells him, squeezing his waist in a way that makes a tiny whine of surprise leave his lips. He can see in his green eyes the way he stops talking at the unexpected noise, taking it in. “I earned yours by letting you go last time. If you want me to trust you, you’ll have to earn it, too.”
“And how can I do that?” he asks in a soft whisper, wondering how he’s managed not to kiss him or expose his neck in desperation so far. He’s slowly melting into a puddle at his feet and he doesn’t even care if it’s obvious.
Dream’s smile is perfect as it spreads across his face. “With time. Now, tell me. Are you free the rest of the night?”
“Uh. Yes. Why?”
“Want to come to my house?”
“Y-your house,” he says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out weak to his own ears. “Didn’t you—didn’t you say you were busy?”
Dream nods before leaning close enough for the next words to be whispered right against his ear, “I also happen to be a bit hungry.”
Oh god.
“I’m free,” he mumbles out, unsteady on his feet as Dream takes a step back.
“Great, let’s go.”