[ blood flow is slower than you think. it circulates every half hour β all of that ruby red locked in purple veins. the scent of it is good, but the taste is better, covering gator's teeth in crimson, the way it sticks to his tongue. he hasn't fed in a while β not that it really matters, as he's a sunwalker, but there are challenges. it's finding the right person β one that's malleable, able to be molded and broken with ease. it's mostly those who are lonely, who call out for something dark, sinister. when gator hears someone calling β anyone β he listens, dead breath in his lungs as he tries to pinpoint where it came from. days pass, until he finally finds the object of his wanton desire for blood β billy hargrove.
an abused boy living in hell, gator knows his type. tough, big, strong β but none of that matters after a vampire's bite. he'll grow weak, dependent, aching to be drained from like he has a disease. he'll grow pale, he'll lose weight, and when he's addicted to gator β that's when the key unlocks. it slides into the latch and springs it forth, open or closed. gator wants to keep it open forever. he's followed him around town subtly, patrol cars pass all the time, don't they? even at night, past his residence.
gator has seen him in pain, has seen him bleeding, has seen him cry β all through the window of his room. he's pretty in a way that gator cares for β blonde, bright eyes, a sculpted face drawn by aphrodite. gator observes, allowing his hurt, until it's... time. he bides it, nursing it, feeding it. he runs around town in a camaro β trailing dust in his wake, revved motors and stopping short. he's a menace, but that's his outlet. pain, suffering. it's all one can do but hope. gator has a different kind of hope in his heart, one that feasts and degrades. he doesn't need charm to keep him under his thumb β or rather, that's how it'll be. bodies entwined in eternal bliss.
catching him under the moonlight was the first obstacle, gator leaning onto his window curve in his camaro like a hunter sizing up his prey. his teeth shine in the night, no fangs, not yet, but this is a way to meet, to slip in. gator lets him go: be careful on these fuckin' roads. it doesn't mean he won't see him again β and by providence, he does. oh, he does. gator has given his new toy β well, he will be β no space, no distance, a cop out to get what he wants. the next time, again, he lets him go: i don't wanna see your ass around here anymore. as luck would have it, third time's the charm. and what a charm it is.
standing outside of the camaro in the pale light of the moon, gator stares down at billy with dark eyes. menacing, mean, every inch a deputy abusing his power. he makes to write a ticket, pen on paper, but his eyes cut to billy. a smirk forms β so slow, so wicked β before he pockets the ticket pad. ]
You gonna promise to listen this time? Or do I gotta show you what happens when you keep breakin' the rules?
[ A fresh start, that's what this is supposed to be. Neil Hargrove going for a promotion out in North fucking Dakota, the most miserable place in the country, Billy's sure of it. Like moving them to the middle of nowhere will fix his fucked up kids.
A fresh start. Yeah, right. This is punishment, bitter and calculated. If it were anything else, there'd be a chance of any of them being happy here. Even Neil is more miserable, a feat Billy didn't think possible. And who should take the brunt of that but Billy?
His wrath is inescapable, suffocating. Billy's infraction this time had been letting his car spin out and slide into a ditch on the way home from school. He and Max were fine and so was the Camaro, but she'd been a little shaken up and they'd had to call a tow truck.
Billy knew he was fucked as soon as Neil found out. Sure enough, he went to bed that night with the door locked from the outside, lying on his stomach with stinging red stripes from Neil's belt across his back. And as he sobbed into his pillow, he'd prayed for something, anything to take him away from this place.
The dreams started after that, though Billy never linked the two. Always cold, always dark. Sometimes there was pain, so intense heβd wake up still feeling it for a second or two - and sometimes immense pleasure. The source was always unknown, but he could hear its voice calling him. He didnβt know what to make of it.
One of the only things to do out here is drive, so Billy does - too fast, because he hasnβt learned anything from hitting the ditch. Heβs gotten pulled over a couple of times, both by the same guy. Probably because this place is so tiny they donβt even need that many cops. Or sheriffs or what-fucking-ever this guy is.
Tonight heβs really not in the mood for this shit. Heβd stormed off out of the house because Neil was giving him hell for something Max did, and he doesnβt intend to come back tonight. He doesnβt know where heβll go, but heβll find somewhere. Anywhere. And heβs not even speeding by much this time, but those lights and sirens say otherwise. Jesus Christ, the theatrics. Billy huffs and pulls over to the side of the road, blowing smoke through his nose as he looks into his rear-view mirror.
Same fucking guy. Again. He cranks down his window as the deputy approaches, the chill in the air biting at his skin more than usual. The manβs eyes are so dark he canβt see the pupils, and Billy knows thereβs no sense in arguing when he starts writing the ticket. But then he stops, puts it away. Heβs smirking now, and Billyβs eyebrows knit together. ]
Sure. I promise. Look, I was barely going ten over and thereβs nobody out here.
[ A fact he now feels painfully aware of. The night is so still out here, the snow dampening all noise. Billy clenches his jaw. ]
[ are you giving me a ticket or not? β it isn't that simple, and it never is. gator has waited β watched billy, kept his eyes fixed to his every movement. underage drinking, drugs β his blood will taste bitter, but gator wants it. he leans down, arms folded casually on the windowsill of the car. he smiles at billy, and there he is β a predator looking at billy just as hungry as he is. he tongues his incisor for a moment, smile growing before he sizes up billy's face with a ravenous once-over.
he will be gator's β there is no turning back, as billy called. he's sent dreams, both agonizing and pleasurable, he's watched billy twitch in his sleep, sometimes moaning, other times grunting from pain. it's beautiful, the way he twists. stained sheets and shivers. there's so much more where that came from, endless pleasure, endless pain. gator's mouth waters, and he tilts his head. he wants to invite billy in, wants to pin him and give him what he needs. there's a sick urge deep within gator, one that he harnesses. ]
Nah, I don't think I'm gonna do that. You wanna get out of it?
[ do you want to be mine? β gator's grin grows, and he's charming in the moonlight, skin pale and pretty in the dimness. he's fully aware that billy might not want this β so he'll get him next time. and next time. and next time. he won't rest until billy is his. an object, so gorgeous and cherished. no one will love him and adore him and worship him like gator. with his fangs, with the need to taste blood. ]
I'll give you two options β we fuck around, or you get me on your ass more. Which sounds better, baby?
[ The deputy - Tillman, the uniform says - leans down, teeth gleaming, way too close to Billy for comfort. It chills him to his bones, far colder than he can blame on the weather alone.
You wanna get out of it?
Billy should take the ticket. He knows that, knows better than to trust a pig for goddamn anything. He'd tried that once as a kid, when he'd seen some sob story about cops helping a mom and her kids get away from her abusive husband. Neil didn't get in trouble, but Billy sure did. He knows better now, or he should.
But he's also broke from the tow truck bill and all the other bullshit that comes with winter-proofing his car, and if Neil finds out he's got a speeding ticket on top of all of that now? He'll be lucky if he's let out of the house before the snow melts. And something he can't place at the back of his mind says to just do it. Just give in. His grip on the steering wheel tightens.
His chest feels tight, heartbeat quickening as the deputy continues to speak. So this is why he's been on his ass - because he wants a piece of Billy and this is the easiest way to get it. It's obvious now, the way he stares him down, hungry, like he could tear Billy from the driver's seat and throw him to the ground right now. Take exactly what he wants.
Billy lets out a nervous chuckle. ]
'Fuck around'? What, you want me to suck your dick or something? And I'm just supposed to trust you aren't gonna slap me with a ticket after anyway?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
@ πΊπ΄πΆπππ°π½π³πΊπΈπ½πΆ.
an abused boy living in hell, gator knows his type. tough, big, strong β but none of that matters after a vampire's bite. he'll grow weak, dependent, aching to be drained from like he has a disease. he'll grow pale, he'll lose weight, and when he's addicted to gator β that's when the key unlocks. it slides into the latch and springs it forth, open or closed. gator wants to keep it open forever. he's followed him around town subtly, patrol cars pass all the time, don't they? even at night, past his residence.
gator has seen him in pain, has seen him bleeding, has seen him cry β all through the window of his room. he's pretty in a way that gator cares for β blonde, bright eyes, a sculpted face drawn by aphrodite. gator observes, allowing his hurt, until it's... time. he bides it, nursing it, feeding it. he runs around town in a camaro β trailing dust in his wake, revved motors and stopping short. he's a menace, but that's his outlet. pain, suffering. it's all one can do but hope. gator has a different kind of hope in his heart, one that feasts and degrades. he doesn't need charm to keep him under his thumb β or rather, that's how it'll be. bodies entwined in eternal bliss.
catching him under the moonlight was the first obstacle, gator leaning onto his window curve in his camaro like a hunter sizing up his prey. his teeth shine in the night, no fangs, not yet, but this is a way to meet, to slip in. gator lets him go: be careful on these fuckin' roads. it doesn't mean he won't see him again β and by providence, he does. oh, he does. gator has given his new toy β well, he will be β no space, no distance, a cop out to get what he wants. the next time, again, he lets him go: i don't wanna see your ass around here anymore. as luck would have it, third time's the charm. and what a charm it is.
standing outside of the camaro in the pale light of the moon, gator stares down at billy with dark eyes. menacing, mean, every inch a deputy abusing his power. he makes to write a ticket, pen on paper, but his eyes cut to billy. a smirk forms β so slow, so wicked β before he pockets the ticket pad. ]
You gonna promise to listen this time? Or do I gotta show you what happens when you keep breakin' the rules?
no subject
A fresh start. Yeah, right. This is punishment, bitter and calculated. If it were anything else, there'd be a chance of any of them being happy here. Even Neil is more miserable, a feat Billy didn't think possible. And who should take the brunt of that but Billy?
His wrath is inescapable, suffocating. Billy's infraction this time had been letting his car spin out and slide into a ditch on the way home from school. He and Max were fine and so was the Camaro, but she'd been a little shaken up and they'd had to call a tow truck.
Billy knew he was fucked as soon as Neil found out. Sure enough, he went to bed that night with the door locked from the outside, lying on his stomach with stinging red stripes from Neil's belt across his back. And as he sobbed into his pillow, he'd prayed for something, anything to take him away from this place.
The dreams started after that, though Billy never linked the two. Always cold, always dark. Sometimes there was pain, so intense heβd wake up still feeling it for a second or two - and sometimes immense pleasure. The source was always unknown, but he could hear its voice calling him. He didnβt know what to make of it.
One of the only things to do out here is drive, so Billy does - too fast, because he hasnβt learned anything from hitting the ditch. Heβs gotten pulled over a couple of times, both by the same guy. Probably because this place is so tiny they donβt even need that many cops. Or sheriffs or what-fucking-ever this guy is.
Tonight heβs really not in the mood for this shit. Heβd stormed off out of the house because Neil was giving him hell for something Max did, and he doesnβt intend to come back tonight. He doesnβt know where heβll go, but heβll find somewhere. Anywhere. And heβs not even speeding by much this time, but those lights and sirens say otherwise. Jesus Christ, the theatrics. Billy huffs and pulls over to the side of the road, blowing smoke through his nose as he looks into his rear-view mirror.
Same fucking guy. Again. He cranks down his window as the deputy approaches, the chill in the air biting at his skin more than usual. The manβs eyes are so dark he canβt see the pupils, and Billy knows thereβs no sense in arguing when he starts writing the ticket. But then he stops, puts it away. Heβs smirking now, and Billyβs eyebrows knit together. ]
Sure. I promise. Look, I was barely going ten over and thereβs nobody out here.
[ A fact he now feels painfully aware of. The night is so still out here, the snow dampening all noise. Billy clenches his jaw. ]
Are you giving me a ticket or not?
no subject
he will be gator's β there is no turning back, as billy called. he's sent dreams, both agonizing and pleasurable, he's watched billy twitch in his sleep, sometimes moaning, other times grunting from pain. it's beautiful, the way he twists. stained sheets and shivers. there's so much more where that came from, endless pleasure, endless pain. gator's mouth waters, and he tilts his head. he wants to invite billy in, wants to pin him and give him what he needs. there's a sick urge deep within gator, one that he harnesses. ]
Nah, I don't think I'm gonna do that. You wanna get out of it?
[ do you want to be mine? β gator's grin grows, and he's charming in the moonlight, skin pale and pretty in the dimness. he's fully aware that billy might not want this β so he'll get him next time. and next time. and next time. he won't rest until billy is his. an object, so gorgeous and cherished. no one will love him and adore him and worship him like gator. with his fangs, with the need to taste blood. ]
I'll give you two options β we fuck around, or you get me on your ass more. Which sounds better, baby?
no subject
You wanna get out of it?
Billy should take the ticket. He knows that, knows better than to trust a pig for goddamn anything. He'd tried that once as a kid, when he'd seen some sob story about cops helping a mom and her kids get away from her abusive husband. Neil didn't get in trouble, but Billy sure did. He knows better now, or he should.
But he's also broke from the tow truck bill and all the other bullshit that comes with winter-proofing his car, and if Neil finds out he's got a speeding ticket on top of all of that now? He'll be lucky if he's let out of the house before the snow melts. And something he can't place at the back of his mind says to just do it. Just give in. His grip on the steering wheel tightens.
His chest feels tight, heartbeat quickening as the deputy continues to speak. So this is why he's been on his ass - because he wants a piece of Billy and this is the easiest way to get it. It's obvious now, the way he stares him down, hungry, like he could tear Billy from the driver's seat and throw him to the ground right now. Take exactly what he wants.
Billy lets out a nervous chuckle. ]
'Fuck around'? What, you want me to suck your dick or something? And I'm just supposed to trust you aren't gonna slap me with a ticket after anyway?