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The sky was ink black with a splotch of stars. A full moon hung overhead, reminding Bram Stoker how long it had been since he last fed. He stalked the streets of downtown Yokohama, finding nothing but peeved drunks and people offering their comfort for the night. None proved to be appetizing to the vampire and his beastly appetite.
She’s too thin and sickly… He looks like he’d taste awful… Fuck, it’s like no one cares for their health anymore. How am I supposed to regain my strength and replenish my health if the blood here is no good?
Bram wandered toward the pier in hopes of finding a decent meal. He had a hunger-induced headache and a thirst begging to be quenched. It drove him to continue his hunt, even when two hours had passed since he left the comforts of his coffin.
I need… I’m not sure what I need.
I’m craving something I can’t find the word for.
A man stood at the railing, looking out over the water. Grey waves lapped against the pier; an unsettled reflection of the moon held his attention. Black locks of hair rolled down his back long and ethereal like tendrils. When he turned to Bram, it was clear to see his gaunt yet handsome face. He had dull, gray eyes and lips that neither smiled nor frowned. Like a perfect slash.
He’s rather skinny for my liking but at this point, beggars cannot be choosers.
“Is someone keeping you waiting?” Bram asked, setting a pale hand on the railing. “Or do you enjoy your own company on a fine night like tonight?”
The man hardly spent a second looking at him before returning his stony gaze to the sea. When he did speak, he sounded ancient and new all at once. “I was troubled by my own thoughts and couldn’t sleep, so I’ve been walking up and down the pier. My contract is null; I am no longer obligated to be in this country. Yet I’m not sure I’m ready to leave.”
This vague information intrigued Bram. If this stranger didn’t belong in Yokohama and was destined to leave soon, then it would be easier to feed from him. Bram could drain the man of his blood and dispose of his body with no family or employer to look for him. Even better, there would be nothing to connect the man to Bram or anything that would blow his cover.
If I don’t want to be recaptured, I need to remain low. This man might be perfect.
Bram scooted closer, having already decided that the man was his now. He asked, “When you are ready, where will you go?”
“Home,” he said, still facing the water. The simple word carried the weight of a deeper meaning, as if home was somewhere unreachable. Maybe not even on this earth. His voice carried so much longing that it stirred something in Bram.
Where is home for an odd man like him? How could he ache for it while holding himself back?
Bram could hardly remember the last time he had a proper home. He had become a vagabond since becoming free of Fukuchi and the Decay of the Angel. Now he made do by hiding amongst the nightlife, where he also fed. He had grown tired of violent drunks and men who were mere social parasites.
I think I’ve found an interesting dinner date.
Bram inhaled, smelling the blood circulating in the stranger’s veins. He hardly cared who he was, but now he wanted him. His fangs felt restless, his body having to resist lunging at him.
“And why aren’t you ready to leave Yokohama, Mr…?”
“H.P Lovecraft,” he said, looking at Bram and seeing him clearly for the first time. His eyes gleamed as he was transfixed by Bram’s beauty. Long, silver hair and fine features deterred prey from seeing Bram as the predator he was. “Howard Phillips Lovecraft in all my glory. What is a fine creature such as yourself called?”
“I am Bram Stoker, and if you’d allow it, I’d like the pleasure of delaying your departure.” Bram smiled; his eyes half lidded. He gazed intently, using his vampiric ability to charm Lovecraft. He didn’t even need to touch the man, all he had to do was suggest it and soon enough he would be offering his own throat.
“Delayed by Mr. Stoker? Hmm, I see.” Lovecraft’s gaze softened as he mulled it over. “I’m staying at the inn at the end of the pier. My room has a large bathtub perfect for soaking and a better view of the harbor. Would you care to see it?”
“Sounds lovely. Will you lead the way, Mr. Lovecraft?”
The inn’s room was basic in design. There was a queen size bed between two well-aged nightstands, a painting of Yokohama hung over it. A chase lounge chair sat by the oversized window – which had a glorious view as Lovecraft promised. Bram did not wait for a full tour before sliding out of his black coat, which he set on the console table by the entrance.
“Would you care for a drink, Mr. Stoker?” asked Lovecraft, raising an arm toward a desk on the other side of the room. There was a half-finished bottle of wine and an open packet of chocolates, perhaps a pre-stroll snack.
“Enough of the formalities. Life is long, but time is short,” Bram said, putting a hand on Lovecraft and pushing him against the wall. He locked eyes with him, hypnotizing him into submission. “You may call me Bram since you will be giving me your life tonight by blood. I’m sorry to not have disclosed my vampiric identity closer, but I thank you for this meal.”
“I’ve met many men who’ve sought my end but none as dark and fair as you,” Lovecraft murmured, then taking Bram’s hand and kissing the knuckles. “Please continue as you wish, Bram.”
Bram slid his hand over Lovecraft’s and up his arm. He tugged on the collar of his raggedy coat and pulled it down his shoulders. Lovecraft put a hand over his dress shirt when Bram tried unbuttoning it.
“Please let this stay on so I may die with some dignity,” Lovecraft said, showing a bashful side Bram hadn’t expected to meet. It was endearing how his eyes cast low, his face turning to the side. Despite originally inviting a stranger back to his room for sex, he seemed to have reservations about nudity.
Bram paused, taken aback by the clarity and acceptance in his voiced request.
If it weren’t for the glimmer in his eyes, I’d almost think he wasn’t under my charm at all.
Though that can’t be. What man would willingly offer his flesh to a vampire, especially knowing it’ll be his death?
Bram didn’t mind granting this simple wish. He nodded, waiting for Lovecraft to pull his collar aside. Once the tender flesh of his neck and shoulder were exposed, Bram pushed against him. He pinned him to the wall with his knee between his thighs, one hand on Lovecraft’s hip and the other on his head. He manipulated Lovecraft’s body to his liking, angling him for his own comfort.
Now that I’m closer, I can feel how ravenous I am. I shouldn’t have gone a whole month without feeding. It’s a miracle I haven’t already torn into him.
Their bodies pressed closer together. He sniffed the crook of Lovecraft’s neck, then licked the sensitive skin. When Lovecraft sighed, Bram closed his eyes as he parted his lips.
Finally... If I still had a soul, it would rejoice.
Bram sunk his fangs into Lovecraft’s neck, cherishing the way he gasped softly. His abdomen clenched in anticipation as his mouth filled with hot blood. The taste was unusual, though Bram wasn’t sure if it was due to the length of time between feedings or the man’s diet. Instead of it tasting iron-rich, it was coppery.
Perhaps I’m not remembering it right.
Lovecraft threaded lithe fingers through Bram’s hair. His voice was low and raspy when he whispered, “Why are you hesitating? Aren’t you pleased, dear Bram?”
The vampire made an affirmative sound in his throat, then continued.
Bram drank slowly to savor the midnight meal. Lovecraft’s blood was thicker, sweeter too. He gulped, mind buzzing as if he were becoming intoxicated by it.
This is different but I’m not one to turn my nose from a free meal.
The man beneath him squirmed, letting out a throaty moan. It was common for the people Bram drank from to become aroused. The sexual appeal of drinking, which both parties experienced, made it easier to hunt. It was because of this that Bram was carefully selective when it came to his dinner dates.
He might’ve been a monster, but he still had standards. Tonight, he didn’t mind the way Lovecraft touched him. Two hands on his waist, cold but firm as they shyly crept up his chest. Then Bram felt pressure on his upper back, around his thigh, and under his crotch.
Strange, it feels like we’re not alone anymore.
Bram’s heightened senses didn’t register other people in the room, so he opened his eyes. There was no one else with them. Now that he was paying attention, it was clearly not additional hands fondling him. He pulled back, discovering tentacles coming from under Lovecraft’s shirt. He now saw that Lovecraft’s blood was not red, but a deep blue.
Hmm, like that of an octopus I suppose.
“Oh, you are more monster than man,” Bram said, gaze settling on Lovecraft’s subdued face. “I knew there was something otherworldly about you.”
“Does that inhibit your ability to drink from me, dear creature of the night?” asked Lovecraft. His dark eyes refocused on Bram. His stoic face was losing its discipline. Pink brightened his cheeks; his pupils were dilating. He was certainly under the seduction of Bram’s vampirism, though there was something more. A deeper, carnal side of Lovecraft was awakening.
“Not at all.” Bram smiled, blood dribbling down his chin. “I find your blood to be the finest I’ve tasted in all my life.”
“Then feast to your heart’s content, just as long as I may touch you.”
With consent expressed both ways, Bram fed more greedily. He sucked the tender flesh, pulling the blood into his mouth and swallowing so fast he was lightheaded. As he drank, more tentacles slipped from under Lovecraft’s dress shirt.
In all my years, I’ve never taken to bed a lover so unique. He must be an old God, or a very eccentric ability user.
The tentacles had a mind of their own. They wrapped around his thigh, bringing his knee higher until Lovecraft’s crotch rested on it. As soon as it made contact Lovecraft began grinding against it, seeking friction for his stiffening bulge. Another tentacle bumped and rubbed under Bram, the pressure feeling delicious for his budding erection.
This night might have more to offer than I thought. How could I resist these temptations?
Bram pulled away from Lovecraft’s neck. For the first time in decades, he desired his prey. He parted Lovecraft’s lips with his tongue, which still had the taste of his blood. He kissed him with fervor, finding lust beginning to outrival hunger. He turned his head to a better angle, deepening the kiss.
I’m not sure if it’s the blood making me think this, but I swear his tongue just got longer. It’s nearly halfway down my throat!
When Bram pulled away, a blue-tinted string of saliva connected them until it dribbled onto his shirt. The fabric wrinkled and rolled as a tentacle reached underneath. Suction cups lining the inner tentacle sucked and marked his skin. Thick slime trailed wherever the tentacles touched, impressing Bram with their self-lubricating trait.
I think I've found a creature just as lewd as myself.
“Look at how shameless you are, Lovecraft,” teased Bram. “You act as if familiar with my body.”
Bram tugged out of his shirt for a better look. He bit the corner of his mouth as the suction cups fell over his pink nipples. The sensitive areas perked and tickled with the new sensation.
“I can stop if you don’t like it.”
“Oh, no,” Bram mumbled, body quivering. “Don’t you dare threaten me with those words.”
“Have you finished feasting?” Lovecraft asked. “If so, may I have a taste of you as well?”
Bram, drunk on Lovecraft’s blood and high on ecstasy, nodded meekly. Lovecraft’s tentacles released Bram, so the lovers could shuck off their boots and shimmy out of their clothes. Though Lovecraft kept his shirt on, the thin fabric stressed to its limits by the sheer number of writhing appendages.
I wonder how much longer it can take before there’s nothing between us but skin like feral creatures.
“Are we taking this to bed now?” Bram asked, turning away. His cock hung heavy and flushed between his legs. It ached for Lovecraft’s touch. The only thing he could want more would be to be fucked by Lovecraft while drinking his blood. Such heavenly nectar, he thirsted for it already.
“Here is fine,” Lovecraft said.
Bram had hardly a second to process when the tendrils wrapped around him again. They coiled around the length of his legs and hoisted him off the ground. The floor and the ceiling swapped places as Bram found himself hanging upside down.
I see. He can manipulate his humanly body however he pleases. Instead of coming from under his shirt, these tentacles have morphed from his arm.
“Oh, you are far more creative than you look,” Bram cheered like a true drunk.
“If I’m truly dying tonight, I’d like to make it worth my time.” Lovecraft leaned back against the wall for support as Bram was raised.
Bram was at the perfect height to enjoy Lovecraft’s cock. Hesitation delayed him when he saw the unusual member. He took a deep breath and widened his mouth, taking the girthy monster cock in his mouth. Inch by inch, he bobbed back and forth.
“You really are good with your mouth,” Lovecraft said, moaning as he hugged Bram’s hip with his other arm. The leg went over his shoulder as he licked Bram’s hard dick.
So good. So much but so good.
Bram’s head was swimming in ecstasy. Lovecraft continued to lick him as he rocked his hips, fucking Bram’s mouth. Saliva dribbled around the bloodstained corners of his mouth as his throat was forced to take more than it had ever before.
They fell into a fucked-out trance of muffled moaning and sloppy gulping. More tentacles wrapped around Bram, seeking points of pleasure for him. They fondled his chest, sucking on his perky nipples. The sensation made him tremble. Tears from overstimulation blurred his eyes as the tip of a tentacle prodded his asshole.
Lovecraft’s tentacles were firm with smooth, slime-slick skin. A brave one explored Bram’s rim. He inhaled sharply, nearly choking on the cock in his throat as it pushed inside. The tentacle tested the tight heat, teasing a slow in and out rhythm. When Bram did not refuse, it explored deeper. It wiggled and twisted, filling him as Lovecraft enveloped his dick in his mouth.
Ah, I must’ve died and not realized. Surely this is nirvana. No pleasure like this exists on mortal land.
Bram jolted as the tentacle brushed his prostate. Hot pleasure zipped up his spine as the tears finally pushed free of his eyelashes. They streamed into his hairline. The upside-down position made him more lightheaded than he already was.
Lovecraft must’ve been nearing his climax. His hips snapped forward in desperation, no longer patient for Bram’s set rhythm of sucking. To help the vampire come with him, he bobbed his head faster. The tentacle massaged Bram’s prostrate, the pace consistent and unrelenting.
Mmm. Bram moaned around the cock in his mouth. He squeezed his eyes tight to focus as he neared ecstasy. Heat filled his lower abdomen, he was clenching, feeling dangerously close to toppling off the edge.
Bram choked, sputtering on saliva and cum when Lovecraft orgasmed. It was a deliciously lewd sound unbefitting the Prince of the Dead.
Lovecraft pulled off of Bram’s dick with a wet pop. He murmured, “You are a divine devil, now if only you tried killing me sooner.”
As Lovecraft spoke with great tenderness and lust, the tentacles continued to ravage the vampire’s sensitive body. The tentacle inside his ass rubbed against his prostrate until he saw stars. It brought him the closest he had ever been to heaven. Bram’s toes curled as he came, painting Lovecraft’s cheeks with his hot cum.
Bram freed Lovecraft’s cock from his mouth to gasp for air. He smiled as the tendrils slowly lowered him onto the ground. His body trembled as he basked in the high of his orgasm.
“I hope you don’t think that’s enough to satisfy me,” said Bram. He looked up, red eyes bright as he smiled faintly.
Lovecraft gazed down at him with something akin to adoration. His long tongue slipped out to lick at the cum splattered on his face. The sight excited Bram even more.
His eccentric lover said, “I share the same sentiment.”
Lovecraft helped Bram onto the bed. He laid him on his back and crawled between his legs. His cock pressed against the hole that had been well-prepared by the intrusive tentacle. Slime shined around the rim. He leaned over Bram, a hand on either side of him on the bed.
“You’re a gentle monster,” teased Bram as Lovecraft took his time to bottom out.
His pulse sang, his body overwhelmed with the goodness of being filled again, especially by the cock that was warmer and firmer than the tentacle. His lower half felt enflamed by the girth stretching his tight hole.
“I only wish to enjoy every inch of you, Bram,” admitted Lovecraft, a light blush coloring his cheeks. As intoxicated as Bram was from drinking his blood, Lovecraft felt a similar effect. Bram could see it in the way his eyes were glossy, now brighter than before. Lovecraft grunted like a rutting beast as he began rocking his hips back and forth.
Bram had never known a man like Lovecraft before, whose blood and body had him just as transfixed. As Lovecraft thrusted, tentacles slithered around Bram. One twirled around his thigh and inside him, working in opposite rhythm of its master.
“Ngh~ Lovecraft! That’s oh so divine.”
Eyes wide, jaw slacking, Bram felt as if he were being penetrated by two men. The pleasure rippled through him, heat growing in his core so hot that it could melt the flesh off his bones. His dick wept pre-come as it flopped against his stomach with each thrust. A tendril wrapped around his dick, stroking it as its suction cups sucked and puckered around his length.
Bram’s eyes rolled back as he nearly cried for Lovecraft. There were no words to describe the sensation, this was truly an experience unlike any he had before in all his existence.
He was breathing heavily, feeling warm and alive. Yet it was not enough. Hunger clawed through him. He pulled Lovecraft closer and bit his shoulder. Then licked the bleeding wound as Lovecraft grumbled in euphoria.
Bram trailed kisses and bites wherever he could reach. He latched onto the tender side of his neck, fangs sinking like well-sharpened knives into the flesh. He drank from Lovecraft as he was fucked. Blue blood trickled onto his sweaty skin, which was then smeared by tentacles roaming over him.
As much as he drank, he did not drain Lovecraft. It was beginning to feel like an impossible ambition. His blood was never-ending. Bram assumed his lover’s ability had a rejuvenating aspect, otherwise he would’ve died before their climax. As stuffed as Bram felt, he continued to enjoy the free flow of blood.
The intensity of feeding and fucking snapped him like a rubber band. Bram came over his stomach, the tentacle jerking him off smeared the mess as it slowed down. Lovecraft continued to thrust in and out, hitting his prostate so he could ride out his climax.
“Ah, Lovecraft. It’s so good. Ah, too much,” he moaned, wiggling to get away as he was overstimulated. He felt like his body would combust, but the tentacles held him in place. His mind went blank, and he lost his sense of self as Lovecraft rammed him harder into the mattress.
“I’m close, Bram. Endure it a little longer, please.”
Lovecraft groaned as he leaned over Bram, filling his asshole with his semen. Sweat dripped off his chin as he slowed his hips, enjoying the feel of his cock softening inside Bram. When he came to a stop, they gazed at each other in wonder.
Their eyes seemed to ask the same question; Were we made for this moment?
“Again,” demanded Bram, out of breath. He could hardly move, which didn’t matter when tentacles kept his legs spread.
“Are you asking with soundness of mind?” Lovecraft asked, though it sounded more like teasing. He stroked his penis, preparing it for the feat of pleasuring the insatiable Lord of the Undead.
Delirious, Bram nodded. He was too far gone to charm him. “You’re still alive, Lovecraft. I asked for your life tonight.”
Lovecraft smirked, then took Bram’s hand to kiss each knuckle. He rolled Bram onto his stomach. Bram grabbed a pillow to hug as he moved into a position on his knees that raised his ass. He arched his back, grunting as tentacles coiled around his ankles and dragged him back onto Lovecraft’s cock.
“You're so slick with cum and slime, I slide in as if I never left,” Lovecraft murmured, firmly grasping a handful of Bram’s hair. “It’s as if the universe designed your body for my pleasure.”
“Then your blood is mine,” Bram groaned as Lovecraft pulled back and rammed forward. His speech was interrupted by soft gasps. “A fair – ah – exchange in my – hah – opinion.”
Hours passed as they fucked like starving men brought to a full table. The flame of their passion dwindled as exhaustion and satisfaction finally overwhelmed them both. Anymore and their bodies would simply disintegrate.
Bram was briefly aware of traumatized humans in the next room who hardly slept a wink through the feral affair. Even if he met them in the hall afterward, he wouldn’t care. He had lived too long to still have humanly burdens such as shame or regret.
Lovecraft collapsed on top of him, holding him close. He kissed along his neck and combed his fingers through his hair. After some time of gentle cooling down, which most would call cuddling, he detangled himself from Bram. He helped him lie more comfortably, then smoothed his bangs from his face before kissing his pointy ear.
“More?” asked Bram, his eyes barely focused.
“Anymore and the inn will collapse on top of us.”
Bram only needed one more round – he was greedy, having never feasted so well before. He adjusted so he could use his persuasive ability on Lovecraft, who smiled softly. A light chuckle filled the room.
“Your vampiric charms do not work on me as they do on the common man,” Lovecraft explained. “Though I’m flattered at how hard you’ve been trying.”
Bram settled again. “I see. When I decided you were my prey, you must’ve been thinking the same thing.”
He mumbled a few more sentences that even he couldn’t understand.
“I’ll return soon, dear demon,” Lovecraft said. The bed groaned when he got up. His footsteps faded as he walked toward the bathroom.
Bram curled on his side, long silver hair fanning over the pillow. His bare body was covered in layers of sweat, cum, Lovecraft’s blood, and tentacle slime. His eyelids became heavy as his entire being demanded rest.
“I want my coffin,” he mumbled, drifting in and out. “Darkness… a tight space… my coffin…”
“This should do for now,” Lovecraft said, his sudden voice jolting Bram out of a sticky slumber.
His eyes opened less than halfway. Lovecraft scooped Bram into his arms. Since there was only a three-inch difference in their heights, the hold was awkward until tentacles aided him. He carried him to the bathroom where he had drawn a hot bath.
As Lovecraft sunk into the oversized tub with Bram in his arms, the beginning of dawn’s golden glow peaked between the curtains. He settled into the water, cuddling him close as tentacles grabbed washcloths to clean them.
Bram, made docile due to being overfed and overfucked, decided it had been a hearty feast after all. The bath water relaxed his sore body, it felt good to be touched tenderly and cleaned with care. He still desired the comfort of his coffin, but he didn’t immediately flee the crime scene of their passion.
“If you stay in Yokohama longer, whether a few days or a month, I may find the need to feed again,” Bram said, nestling closer.
It was as much a promise as it was a threat.