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Dance of the Dead

Summary:

Halloween night, 1974. Josef & Mick hunting together, against the backdrop of the New York Village Halloween Parade, leads to something much more than a drink shared.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Halloween night in New York Village, was a raucous display of sight and sound. Papier Mache skeletons clashed with giant demon head puppets. Swirls of red and black, edged with sequins flowed from capes. Witches and Goblins paraded alongside Gargoyles and Pumpkin heads. A phantasmagorical, gaudily displayed assault on the senses.

In the midst of it all, stood two Vampires. Costumed like the others, but these ones were different.

These Vampires were real.


A street girl plied her trade amidst the passing array of spectacle. Mick watched as Josef predated their quarry. She wouldn’t be missed. It was a relatively safe and easy meal. Blood enough for the both of them to slake their thirst.

Mick’s thoughts drifted back to the past. Twenty years now, time spent forced into an existence he had neither wanted, nor asked for. And once again, just as he had done on other nights like this, Mick found himself wishing it had been Josef.

Coraline may have taught him survival, but with Josef he might have had a chance at refinement. Had he been given any choice at all in the matter, Josef would be his sire. Not that Mick ever expressed that sentiment out loud. Not to Josef, and certainly not to Coraline.

“Hello, planet earth to Mick St John.” Mick looked up to see Josef grinning at him. A hand raised and gestured, ‘hurry up’. “Streets to trawl, people to hunt, Vampires and Blood, ring any bells?”

“Yeah alright,” Mick pretended to roll his eyes, and huff with put on annoyance, “keep your fangs in.”

“My fangs are always in, Mick.” Josef arched a facetious eyebrow, and offered up another grin, “It’s you that has trouble locating yours.”

A hastily muttered response, words of rebuttal. And then they were moving off, trying to locate their prey, the girl having slipped back into the crowded night.

Josef wrinkled his nose, and flared his nostrils, scenting the air that surrounded them. The girl had been wearing patchouli. A sickly sweet smell of spice, and bead covered dens, where the stench of marijuana hung heavy, and cloying.

“Shit.” Josef growled with frustration, and cursed Coraline under his breath. If it hadn’t been for her, he wouldn’t be in this predicament. She was the one who insisted she needed a night to herself; Josef would simply have to take care of Mick for her for a few hours at least.

And Josef had readily agreed, because he liked spending time with Mick.

He liked, Mick.

Mick reminded Josef of himself, before the cynicism set in. And if Josef was perfectly honest, he couldn’t really blame Mick for the fact of their evening meal being lost. Not entirely. He was the one who had been distracted. Thoughts of Mick naked, bent over a plush velvet couch, his cock buried deep in Mick’s arse.

“We’ll find another one, don’t worry about it.”

Mick’s voice, trying to offer words of reassurance, broke through Josef’s reverie. A dismissive hand waved through the air. As if it didn’t matter.

But it did matter. It mattered to Josef. Josef wasn’t the sort of man who was used to being told he couldn’t have what he wanted.

“But I wanted her.” Josef’s reply was just shy of being petulant, demanding.

Mick shrugged a response. An open palmed gesture that let Josef know Mick didn’t know what else to say. Mick was never sure how he was supposed to respond when Josef played the role of Brat Prince. Sometimes Mick thought Josef wanted to be challenged, but then again…

“Wait,” It was Mick’s turn to the scent the night air then. His eyes trained on a particular spot, just across the road from them, “over there.”

“Oh well spotted,” Josef smiled, and clapped his hands together with unabashed delight. Dinner was served after all. “I could kiss you for this, you know.”

For a moment Mick wanted to ask why he didn’t. But Josef was already moving away from him. A cheekily quipped remark, “We’ll make a Vampire out of you yet, Mick St John”, tossed over his shoulder.

Mick caught up to Josef in an alley way, removed from prying eyes. Just in time to see Josef render the girl unconscious with a sharp blow to the back of her neck.

And then Josef was extending the girl’s arm towards Mick, offering it to him like a prize. Mick wondered how Josef did it. How he made the act of feeding seem so far removed from brutality.

“Charm and elegance,” Josef offered a nonchalant shrug, having read the expression on Mick’s face, “Are you going to feed with me, or not?”

“You’re very bossy sometimes; you know that, don’t you?” Mick snorted a laugh, and shook his head. And then Mick was kneeling amidst the grime of the sidewalk. Fangs sunk deep into the flesh of the girl’s wrist, the warmth of her blood flowing into his mouth.

Mick felt hands stroking his face, fingers tracing the contours of his jaw as he fed. Josef’s attention locked wholly on his. Josef always liked to watch Mick feed. The empathy Mick radiated was a draw card of fascination to him.

“So, where’s that kiss you promised me?” Mick looked at Josef, pupils dilated, and eyes glistening. Smears of blood wetted Mick’s lips.

He should’ve know, should have been able to spot it long before it came to this. The girl was under the influence. Josef muttered another round of curses under his breath. Not only would he now have to contend with Mick high as a kite, his own meal for the evening had been ruined. He wasn’t in the mood to be drugged.

For a moment Josef was tempted to pout, hastily dismissing the idea as being far too ill bred. And still Mick waited for a response.

“I should get you home.” Josef stood up, brushing the front of his suit jacket, and adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. Trying to distract himself from thoughts of Mick, and blood stained lips.

“I’d rather go home with you.”

Josef was sure Mick was issuing him with a challenge. But still he couldn’t take advantage, not with Mick the way he was.

“You’re high, Mick,” Josef tried to dismiss Mick’s advances, “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

Mick was on his feet too then, brazened by Dutch courage. Josef pressed back against a wall, held firm by the weight of Mick’s body.

“Or maybe,” Mick leant close. Words fanned hot against the side of Josef’s face, “I’ve just never had the guts until now.”

“You’ll regret this when you’re sober, Mick.”

Mick wasn’t listening. Hands trailed a pathway down Josef’s torso. Fingers skipped beneath the waistband of Josef’s pants. And then those same fingers were pressing against Josef’s crotch, stroking, and squeezing along material covered length.

Josef’s resistance crumbled. “Not here,” he brushed Mick’s hand aside, and then took Mick by the arm. Leading Mick back up the street, headed for the car.

“What about her?” Mick gestured towards the prone figure behind them.

“Damn it.” A clenched teeth burst of frustration, and Josef was turning heel to deal with the situation. It wasn’t like him to leave a victim unaccounted for. He would have to be more careful. Mick was proving far too much of a distraction.

Josef scraped the girls arm across the roughened asphalt, making sure the evidence of Mick’s bite had been removed. And then he picked up her handbag, contents strewn across the narrow street.

“They’ll assume she’s been knocked unconscious and robbed,” Josef offered by way of explanation, as he rejoined Mick, “Let’s get out of here.”

Out of here, and into the unknown. Josef still wasn’t sure if they were doing the right thing. Despite his acquiesce. Reason told him, no. But the erection straining against his pants said otherwise. Besides, since when had Josef Kostan ever bothered to do the ‘right thing’? Take no prisoners, and damn them all to hell. He did what we wanted, when he wanted.

But this was different. Mick was different.

He liked Mick.


Josef stole a quick glance across at Mick, as Mick climbed into the passenger seat of Josef’s Ferrari. He’d only bought the machine a few short weeks ago. A 1974 Ferrari Dino, straight off the assembly line. Josef remembered how impressed Mick had looked, the myriad of questions he had asked. And Josef had strutted, and paraded like a peacock showing off its feathers.

Window wound down, the cold night air streaming into the car as they peeled off into the night. Mick appeared to be coming down. His eyes weren’t as glazed. Pupils no longer as dilated. Josef wondered what this would mean when they got back to his place. Would Mick back down from his previous insistence?

Josef decided to test the water. He reached for Mick’s hand, gauging Mick’s response. His eyes still set firm on the road ahead. If Mick pulled away, Josef wouldn’t push the issue any further. They would enjoy a drink together, and then he would drop Mick home. A brief embrace, thanks for an interesting evening. And that would be that.

But Mick didn’t pull away. His fingers entwined with Josef’s. Thumb stroking across the back of Josef’s hand.

And then they were pulling into the drive way of Josef’s mansion. Josef electrified with anticipation. His cock strained even harder against its confines.

“Are you…”

“…Yeah.”

A quick exchange of words, agreement sort and accepted. And they were both scrambling out of the car, and making their way towards the front door. A coordinated feat of tangled limbs, and mouths seeking heated contact.

“Mick, are you sure you want to go through with this?” They were inside then, standing in Josef’s lounge room. Bodies pressed together, hands exploring planes, and angles of cloth covered flesh. And still Josef felt the need to check.

If it had been anyone else. Anyone else but Mick….

But this was different. Mick was different.

He liked Mick.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Mick’s voice echoed determination. If he couldn’t have Josef as his sire, then he would settle for the next best thing. Josef as his…

His what? His lover, his boyfriend, his occasional fuck buddy…?

Mick couldn’t think on the matter further, couldn’t think at all. Josef knelt in front of him, fingers fumbling with the fastenings of Mick’s jeans. Blue denim and underwear hastily slung around Mick’s knees. His erection released into Josef’s hand.

“Oh, Jesus, fuck.” Mick gasped at the sensation as Josef’s mouth covered his length.

Josef felt hands gripping either side of his head. Mick needed to support himself, feeling as if he were about to topple over. Josef worked his lips and tongue expertly along Mick’s shaft. His hand gripped the base of Mick’s cock, holding Mick steady.

And then Josef was sliding back up along Mick’s body. Using the weight of his body pressed against Mick’s own, manoeuvring Mick over to a velvet covered lounge.
A hand in the centre of Mick’s chest exerted pressure. And then Mick found himself falling backward, sinking into the plush cushions below, hastily stripped of his remaining garments. Before Josef followed suit with his own.

“Wait here, I need to get something.” A quick instruction, words whispered into Mick’s ear, and then Josef took off.

Mick caught up with him at the top of the staircase. A tube of something held in Josef’s hand.

“I thought I told you to wait?”

“So, sue me,” Mick raised a devilish eyebrow. And Josef couldn’t help thinking how alike he and Mick could seem sometimes.

Both so alike, and yet so very different. Josef wondered if that was half the attraction.

He had wanted to fuck Mick bent over the back of the lounge, a portrait of his fantasy come to life. It seemed Mick had other ideas though. Mick’s arms were wrapped around Josef’s neck, mouth seeking heated contact with Josef’s own. And Josef was being dragged to the floor below.

“You want me to fuck you here?” Josef managed to raise himself up onto outstretched arms, and arched a bemused eyebrow at Mick lying beneath him, “On the landing?”

“Sure, why not.” Mick was already reaching for Josef, pulling Josef back towards his embrace.

“Well, I suppose it’s your ass that’s getting carpet burn.” Josef chortled with amusement.

And then he was hooking Mick’s legs over his shoulders, pressing Mick’s thighs back against his chest. Another quick instruction, Josef’s lips pressed against Mick’s ear, “Relax.”

Mick felt something cold, and viscous, Josef hurriedly slicking his cock with the same substance. And then Josef’s cock was pressed against Mick’s anus. The initial resistance breached, penetrating into Mick’s body.

“I’ve waited twenty years for this, Mick.” Josef studied the expression on Mick’s face, trying to gauge Mick’s reactions. Holding still, giving Mick time to adjust to the sensation of being filled.

“Why didn’t you do something about it sooner?” Mick grimaced, a sensation of pain that soon evaporated. Only to be replaced by a shock of pleasure that hummed along Mick’s spine. “Why didn’t you try and make a move on me?”

“Because you’re different, Mick. Because I fell in love with you.”

“I don’t know.” Josef hid the truth with his head buried against Mick’s shoulder. Mick’s hips rising and falling in sync with Josef’s own, reveling in the sensation of Josef’s cock thrusting into him. Hitting against a spot that sent sparks flying throughout Mick’s body.

“Does it always feel this good?” Mick clung to Josef’s back, fingernails digging into sweat dampened flesh.

“Always.” There was more conveyed in that single word answer than what Josef was prepared to let on. Once again the truth was hidden. Behind the arch of an eyebrow, and the salacious grin that tugged at the corners of Josef’s mouth.

And then Josef was stepping up the pace. Josef’s hand reaching in-between, gripping Mick’s cock. Mick’s length being stroked to the beat of an increasingly frenetic rhythm, Josef urged the both of them on.

A mutual cry of release, fangs bared and then sunk deep into soft tissue. And they were both sailing off the edge together, coming in a flood of semen and pleasure. Snarling, and growling their way through the respective orgasms that washed over them.

Josef waited until Mick was spent, before carefully withdrawing to lie alongside him. A leg draped over Mick’s thigh, an arm slung across his chest. Josef’s head rested in the crook of Mick’s shoulder.

For a few moments neither one of them spoke, each lost in a private reverie. And then Josef broke the silence.

“I could take you away from all this, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Mick turned to face Josef then. His brow furrowed with puzzlement.

“Away from Coraline,” Josef raised himself up onto one shoulder, and made an encompassing gesture with his free hand, “Away from all of this, the life you’re living now. I have money, Mick. You’d never have to scrounge for food. No more hunting, unless you wanted to of course. No more hiding in darkened alley ways. I could give you what you’ve always wanted, a life.”

Mick hadn’t been expecting that, hadn’t know what to expect. Josef wanted a relationship, with him? Mick began to process the idea.

“Maybe I don’t deserve a life, Josef. Maybe I need to scrounge for my food, and hide in the shadows.”

“Always the penitent one hey, Mick?”

“Well you know me, sack cloths and ashes are my trademark.”

The mood was broken then. They headed downstairs to collect crumpled piles of clothing.

“You were right earlier; I really should get home to Coraline.” Mick averted his eyes as he redressed. Trying to pretend he hadn’t seen the look of rejection on Josef’s face. A look Josef was doing his level best to pretend wasn’t there.

A taxi was called, transport home arranged. Josef walked Mick to the door. A brief kiss, and then an embrace goodbye, and Josef stood watching after Mick’s retreating form. Leaning against the frame of the doorway, and wondering to himself,

Would this be the way it always was between them, locked together in a strange dance. Two dead men unable to move forward, or go back…

But then again, Josef wasn’t the sort of man who was used to being told he couldn’t have what he wanted. And this was different. Mick was different.

Josef loved Mick.

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Emerald72.
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