PARALLEL: Hunter

[Trillian]

"He fluctuates," Ben said, frowning. "It comes and goes in waves. He can go decades without leaving behind a dead body," Ben said, not quite sounding proud about this achievement but for Lazarus it was a pretty big deal. "You shouldn't separate me from him... he'll get worse. When he gets bad, I know how to reel him in."

He knows I don't approve, Ben thought but did not say. He didn't want to assign blame to his sire, even though he was the one doing all of the killing. Ben let it happen insofar as he didn't know how to stop him, but he considered it to be the same crime. He was helping Lazarus get away with it after all.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr felt an unexpected wave of sympathy for the younger vampire. He'd been with Lazarus since he was sixteen, which explained a lot. His entire world view had been shaped by a monster. It was a miracle he was as cognisant of the world as he was, given his background.

"Ben... I'm not planning to keep you separated from him as an experiment. He's done too much for too long and he will only continue to get worse," Kerr said huskily, his tone gentle as he stated a brutal truth. "I'm planning to kill him. Can you think of any other way to stop him?"

[Trillian]

Ben knew he was bait for Lazarus - he wasn't so naive, but he wouldn't have believed Kerr would have believed it off him. Ben had meant for him not to be separated from Lazarus even temporarily... or if Lazarus never came, for Ben to be killed and separated permanently. He certainly didn't think this was an experiment.

However, Kerr's tone gave Ben different ammunition to play with. Even though the other knew Ben was over a hundred (and in reality he was twice that), he still trusted his eyes more than his mind. Ben knew he was pretty, and he looked young, and those two things offered him an innocence he really didn't deserve. Even after the sexual moves Ben had made on Kerr, even after he'd openly manipulated the conversation, Kerr suffered on his behalf. Ben could play another victim.

But did he want to?

On the heels of the realisation, and feeling how much it grated on him, no, he didn't think he could play a victim even if he did want to. He fell in that space of being too cunning to look innocent and not cunning enough to pull it off.

"You don't need to stop him," Ben said. "He scoops up the risk-takers or those too stupid to know better. He's thinning the herd and quite frankly, your population is out of control. Mine isn't, so destroying your predators isn't necessarily the best decision to make."

There would be no coming back from that.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr blinked a few times, stupefied by the cold logic of the argument as much as the blunt delivery. Disappointment swiftly followed, because he'd thought Ben was different. He'd thought there was hope for him. He was younger and should be more in touch with his humanity, he didn't have the reports of violence that Lazarus did, he hadn't been ordered to kill Ben at all costs. Part of him had been determined that, when this was over, he'd be able to let Ben go.

Ben's statement contradicted that notion soundly.

"That's... certainly one way of looking at it," Kerr said, still processing the implications of Lazarus' 'generous' murders. Being a Hunter, Kerr was trained to protect the human race at all costs, had come into the life because he'd inherited a love for it from his parents and uncle. He'd never stopped to question whether the human race deserved to be protected, by their nature, he'd always known them to be thus.

But Ben's insinuation that the world was better off without the stupid, the foolhardy, the ignorant resounded with the part of him that watched the news some nights. It echoed the sentiments he secretly felt when he heard about another massacre, weather disaster or war that had killed tens, hundreds, thousands; the poor bastards were probably better off. The world was on the brink of environmental disaster, humans frequently showed less human decency than the monsters he hunted and none of it looked to be slowing down. Handbasket loaded, Hell here we come!

Still... natural selection was a pitiful argument and he was ashamed of the part of him that rejoiced a little when there were fewer world and people problems to think about because some catastrophe or other had befallen them and there were less people in the world. Generally, he satisfied that urge by Hunting, telling himself that he was making the world better by ridding it of evil... But did the culling of one necessarily outrank or deserve it more than the other? Was it his place to be judge and executioner (he'd worried about that more often in the last couple of years as his kills had risen and his reputation had blossomed along with them)? Was he any better than the monsters he put down? Perhaps it was truly about balance and destroying Lazarus could well tip the scales unfavourably.

What the fuck am I thinking?

Taking a sudden, cleansing breath, Kerr straightened up, closing his pen inside his notebook for now and rubbing a hand over his face. He obviously needed a change of pace. He got up out of his kitchen chair, returning his belongings to his work table. Maybe he should do another workout to clear his head? Frowning, he turned to look back at Ben.

"Are you hungry? Want your blood now?" He never had got a straight answer to that question, he realised.

[Trillian]

Ben figured the frown was for him when Kerr went pensive. He waited for the arguments about how the innocent didn't deserve to die, and had a reply waiting that innocent people died every day... but Kerr said nothing. With his hands still upon the book that was open on his lap, Ben stared at Kerr, waiting him out. His captor seemed to blink himself back into the present and shook off whatever it was he'd been thinking about.

The next question was answered immediately. "I'd like it, yes," he said, keeping his mouth pressed tightly on the 'please'.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr had brought the microwave and Ben's blood bags down when he'd set up his kitchen area; they were in the bar fridge beside his butter, milk and soft drink cans (that he suddenly wished were beer, even though he was expecting Lazarus to trigger one of the alarms any minute and he'd need to be on top of his Hunter game).  He put the bag in the microwave on the setting he'd used the night before and organised a travel mug to pour it into when it was done - it would be classier than passing the bag through, was tall and skinny enough to fit between the bars and the lid would stop it spilling if the tongs slipped.

Standing there, numbly watching the bag go round on the lit up turntable, his thoughts turned pensive again. It really sucked that, along with his reputation, his doubts about his chosen field of work were rising. Ben wasn't the first monster to give him second thoughts. He'd let a werewolf that promised to lock herself up every full moon - from then on - go a few months before, because she was a mother who'd been travelling home from working a double shift when the full moon rose. She hadn't meant to rip three cows apart - and they'd only been cows, he'd justified... in the same way Lazarus and Ben would likely say 'they were only stupid people'. Damnit. Where was the line? He was afraid he might've already crossed it.

Still frowning, he poured the blood into the mug, capped it and carried it towards Ben's cage. He scooped up his tongs as he passed the pile of books, intending to pass the mug through to Ben closer to where his bed was. Kerr's thoughts were restless, pondering a workout but not feeling excited by the notion. Perhaps he'd be better off waiting 'til sunup and taking himself off to get laid. It'd been too long and Ben kept getting him worked up. There was a guy that lived in the city that he knew he could go to, another Hunter. They'd hooked up whenever he passed through. The guy was pretty into him, though, and a sixth visit within a year would give him ideas Kerr didn't want him to get.

He was so preoccupied that, despite holding the tongs in one hand, he approached the cage and held the mug out near the bars with his other, where Ben could get a hold of him, if he wanted.

[Trillian]

And he did want. Ben had set his book aside and was strolling casually towards the bars when he'd realised the blood would be passed to him soon, but when Kerr got nice and close, he instinctively called on his celerity (something Lazarus was able to teach him to do) and grabbed Kerr's wrist, pulling on it so that Kerr was slammed into the bars but stopped at his shoulder because now there was resistance. He still held the mug - had a death-grip on it, in fact - and Ben plucked it out of his hand with the hand that wasn't holding onto the man who'd trapped him.

Still holding Kerr, Ben thumbed off the lid and drank down the blood, skolling it. It was awkward holding Kerr and drinking while being cuffed. Awkward enough that a tiny rivulet of red escaped from the side of his lips and ran down his chin. He tossed the plastic thermos away from himself, sending it clattering to the other side of his cell, and felt Kerr's muscles bunching under his hand, tugging and pulling to no avail.

"Stop it," he said, bowing his head to wipe away the driplet with the back of his free hand, smearing it before making a few more attempts and finally getting rid of it. "You'll hurt yourself."

With a seductive smile, Ben lowered to his knees, angling Kerr's arm down with him. Kerr was still extended, caught up to his shoulder. Ben held Kerr's arm by the wrist with both of his hands now, turning it so that it was palm down. "Would you like to know how sharp my fangs are?" he grinned. "Open your fist. Put your fingers in my mouth," Ben invited, then planted a kiss on the top of Kerr's fist and then licked the seam where Kerr's index and middle fingers were. He hummed and gave Kerr a devious smile.

He wondered if Kerr knew he could've ripped his arm right off. Instead of violence, he preferred seduction. It might not be the right play, but it certainly wasn't the wrong one. He was certain Kerr was into him. He would use that again and again until Kerr let him out of this cage.

[Existentially Odd]

FUCK!

Kerr's distraction disappeared the instant he was grabbed and adrenaline pounded through his body, accelerating his heart rate to the point where he could hear it thumping in his ears. He fought, yanking back so hard that it wrenched his shoulder and signalled he should stop fighting as Ben suggested but he couldn't. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid! Panic and fear bled into his racing veins, stirring his emotions and bringing tears to his eyes. He had the presence of mind to keep the left side of his body away from the bars so that the ring on his hand and the tongs were kept out of Ben's reach but otherwise he was a trapped animal, held at Ben's mercy.

His eyes widened as Ben knelt and asked about his fangs' sharpness before he invited him to... put fingers in his mouth?? "What?" he asked in disbelief. "No! Let me go, please," he begged, trying to pull back because the instinct to get away was too strong to fight.

Then Ben licked him. His poor, confused body was now flooded with tingles of excitement, awareness of his hand's proximity to Ben's mouth getting all of his attention. He stopped struggling to get away, his breath fluttering in and out of him as he watched his hand open involuntarily. His fingers splayed but didn't press forward, they just hovered between him and Ben, shaking as he waited to see what would happen next. "Let me go," he whispered.

[Trillian]

"Aren't you doing research?" Ben suggested, not letting Kerr go. The splayed fingers were perfect and he put the tip of the middle finger in his mouth first, dragging his fang across the pad of his finger before he applied just enough pressure to pierce it. He sucked on it then, tasting a tiny amount of Kerr's blood before slowly engulfing Kerr's finger to the middle knuckle, then back again. He caught Kerr's index finger into his mouth as well, but there was no sharp slicing with his fangs - just showing Kerr by the use of his fingers what it might be like upon his cock.

Ben shuffled forward on his knees so that Kerr's arm was slightly bent, a bit more relaxed to enjoy it, hopefully giving Kerr's (likely) aching shoulder some relief. He gazed up at the mortal man as he took those fingers as deeply as possible and held them there, massaging them with his throat muscles - not gagging, not breathing, but slickening them. He shuffled forward some more on his knees until his handcuffs were dangerously close to the cell bars and were sending him tingles to remind him. His hold on Kerr's wrist was loose now as he worked his head back and forth upon the fingers. The tiny slice on Kerr's fingertip had closed up naturally, but Ben could still feel its imperfection there.

[Existentially Odd]

"I was just... "

curious about you and Lazarus... and you

Kerr frowned, his focus splintered, making it very difficult to finish a sentence, let alone think. He watched Ben's lips move sensuously over his fingers, looking up at him through silvery blue eyes while his cool tongue stroked and swirled and it was the most erotic view Kerr had ever had. They didn't make porn with this attention to detail, this mindboggling sucking of helpless fingers. Every undulation of Ben's throat, every flicker of his tongue was transferred to his groin by Kerr's mind and other parts of him began shaking weakly as his cock stiffened.

When he felt himself swaying forward, wanting to get even closer, some wild survival instinct kicked in at last. Without preamble, Kerr tugged on his hand, finally recognising the necessity of getting it out of Ben's mouth and back on his own side of the bars (mostly). "Stop!" he yelled at the same time, though it sounded unconvincing even to his own ears.

[Trillian]

Ben let the hand go, disappointed that Kerr hadn't invited him to try out the real thing. He hoped his move had made progress for him rather than reversed things. He watched Kerr pull away from the bars hastily, almost stumbling - maybe he was stumbling, for Ben had released him altogether but not at the same time as when he'd yanked or anything.

Ben licked his lips, recalling the flavour and texture of Kerr's skin more than his blood. He had thick fingers with manicured nails because they hadn't scraped Ben's throat. He didn't know if Kerr did them himself or professionally, but it was something he would imagine in better detail now - those warm hands on his body, exploring and investigating every inch of his skin. Ben's eyelids fluttered for he was seducing himself with Kerr's image, but it wasn't too long a reach - he'd become trapped because he'd been looking forward to enjoying Kerr after all.

Ben remained on his knees near the bars, his hands cuffed and settled in his lap, watching Kerr.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr was released unexpectedly and it threw off his balance. He recovered from falling by staggering back a few steps and dropping into a crouch, his left knee on the stone floor and his body hunched into a defensive huddle over it. His left hand was holding his right arm at the wrist, like the limb was now bleeding and needed to be elevated to slow it down. He looked at Ben with wide, horrified eyes, awash with rage at his own stupidity, relief that he was still alive and lust so powerful it left him quivering.

He stared back, trying to sort through everything, wondering why he hadn't been killed then telling himself not to be stupid; Ben wouldn't kill him while he was still locked in the cage. He'd get out first. Ben would wait to kill him until he was out, it was only logical. The vampire was capable of running at that level of clear-headedness whereas he, idiotic and vulnerable mortal that he was, couldn't get past his own arrogance enough to respect what he was toying with here.

Kerr was completely out of his depth and this vampire was fucking caged and a tenth the age of the one he was supposedly going to kill. He was fucking insane to think he was capable of that! He hadn't managed to last one night with Ben without putting himself in mortal peril, how the fuck did he think he'd cope with someone a thousand years older, faster, stronger, wilier? He couldn't.

Ben's gaze was adding to the pressure mounting inside him and Kerr lowered his head to rest his forehead against his lofty arm, placing his elbow on his raised knee. Could he get out of this? Sure, the Oligarchy wanted to keep their hands clean but didn't they want the job to succeed? Cold realisation flooded through him as he realised his life was also insignificant to the organisation that had employed him. He'd been aware of it, sure, but only on an intellectual level. They knew how ineffective he'd be up against a thousand year old vampire, though. They'd given him every advantage they could, sure, but these resources were likely a drop in their well. It would be fantastic if Kerr succeeded but if he died in the process? Oh, well. They'd have to move to plan B or C or whatever came after him. They had a supply of powered beings at their disposal, they were just hiding behind him because it suited their bureaucratic manoeuvrings.

Kerr had never felt so powerless as he did right then and he was content to wallow in self pity. He'd signed a contract with the Oligarchy, agreeing to go through with this charade. There'd even been a charming monetary bonus going to his mother, should he die in the pursuit of his prey. Now, he understood that that payout was likely certain, he resented his blind faith in signing that deal. And his own arrogance. He was always successful, why should this time be any different, especially with the setup and cool toys he was offered? Fuck them. Fuck him. Fuck Ben.

He lifted his head and looked at the vampire, his expression devastated. "There's no way I'll be able to kill your sire, is there?" he asked hollowly. It didn't really require an answer, for he knew the truth, but he braced for Ben's confirmation anyway.

[Trillian]

Ben shrugged at the question. "He's two thousand years old," he said, finally giving up the correct information because he could see now that Kerr was second-guessing his ability. It wasn't a lie, it was a plea. "He survived by being wily. He's seen entire civilisations build up and turn to rubble, merely due to the passing of time. You want him to value the lives of mortals like he hasn't watched them destroy each other for two milennia and you call him a monster for his survival. He cares for me, he does... but he won't risk himself for me. Your idea was a good one, but he's too old to sacrifice."

Except Lazarus had constantly told Ben that he'd never met anyone like him, and that he was a good find. Ben was a trophy that Lazarus wouldn't be able to replace with the same lustre. Even if he found someone who was better than Ben, the comparison would always be there and it was hard to compete with a memory.

"If you're wondering why you aren't dead," Ben said, for if their positions were reversed, he would wonder. "It's because I've killed before and I find it unpleasant. I'd much rather fuck than kill. You might be surprised, but he's the same. When you finish me, you'll anger him." Ben shrugged again to indicate he didn't know how things would go after Lazarus was angry. He would become unpredictable.

[Existentially Odd]

Two. Thousand.

At the news, Kerr dropped to the floor in a sprawl, shoulders drooping as he watched Ben incredulously. Lazarus was twice the age he’d been told he was and Ben’s argument was convincing; why would a being that had been around that long care about humans? He’d seen millions die to plague, war, famine... anything a horseman could throw at them and more. But people always made more people, the supply was only growing exponentially. Why even fucking bother?

Even as he thought it, guilt washed through him. It was worth bothering because all those people mattered to someone and, fundamentally, no race, colour or creed should matter more than others. Seeing one species as food for another was morally unsound by that argument, forget about the impact of lives lost on people who cared. Like his family when his father had been killed by a demon.

“I never really intended to end you,” Kerr admitted dully. Ben was being honest; he might as well follow suit. “You were always a soft contingency. Lazarus is the hard one, the one I must end. I figured I’d let you go, once I had him. You haven’t got his record. Now I know why.” An errant thought occurred and he uttered a short, bitter laugh. “I’ve probably got more kills in twenty-eight years than you do in one hundred, seeing as you don’t like it and it’s my job.” There was no mirth in his eyes as he shared his realisation, just resignation and confusion.

[Trillian]

“I’m older than a hundred, add another seventy years,” Ben replied, correcting Kerr’s mistake because he could see he was making better progress with the truth. Being told he’d be released was probably a lie, but it still made him look at Kerr a little more favourably.

“I love him, I can’t let you kill him. I know he’s a fucking pain and that he doesn’t value life as much as he should, but I honestly do have some influence on him. If you release me now, I can take him away from this country... I can convince him to travel with me.  If we return, we will be gone long enough that we will no longer be your problem,” he said, then gave Kerr a sly look, “unless you’re sired for your talent in hunting our kind down.”