Home Sweet Home

[Black Philip]

The trial was over. The dude was found guilty and frankly I couldn’t have been happier about it. The two victims had both come out looking pretty good. Ben had been combative but his raw emotion had showed what a monster he was dealing with. Jake by comparison had been composed and confident, and he’d looked his attacker right in the eye and reaffirmed his guilt. Who needs Law and Order SVU? I was shaken up by the whole affair, and when I saw Zeph I enveloped him in an instant hug. He’d asked if I was okay, and I’d lied and said yes. I then asked him about his day, and lead him towards the food I knew he wanted. I couldn’t tell if he believed I was fine or not, but he filled the space with conversation, and I liked that he didn’t insist we focus on me.

It was honestly just nice to hear him talk, about anything really. I could listen to him all day, and after the success  of our first date I was eager for this one. I hadn’t called Dreki yet, partially out of guilt for using him that night. I realized  that by not calling him I was making that using worse, and was resolved to forge a friendship with him. I told Zeph only about a blind piano player I’d met, and that he was a cool guy. I left it at that for now. No need to overcomplicate shit, right?

We reached my place in the good old BQ, that’s Brazilian Quarter of course, and I unlocked my office door and led the nymph into Rebel Rebel Investigations. I’d picked up a bit, figuring Zeph’s visit would be soon, but the place still looked pretty sad and empty.

“Well, it’s not much. But it’s home,” I said, smiling and offering Zeph a seat.

[suneater]

Zeph had been happily filling the date with chatter. Their date and subsequent time together had done wonders for the doldrums that his trip to Venture had trapped him in. The one-week deadline for returning to Charon had passed without the nymph even thinking of it. In the meantime, Zeph had been texting Drew almost constantly- flirting, reporting on his day, sending selfies (some of them suggestive), asking for opinions on outfits (which was mostly an excuse to send more selfies), and sharing some stream of consciousness. The texts were usually short, devoid of punctuation or capitalization, and peppered with emoji.

When they’d met for dinner, Zeph had bounced up the sidewalk and all but hopped into Drew’s arms. The one-sided meal had been accompanied by an animated recounting of a party he’d been to the night before which had devolved (or maybe evolved) into a Disney acapella session fueled by arcane cocktails that the host (who Zeph confided had been in gay adult films and had a huuuuuuuuuuuuge dick) had made diligently but never partaken in himself. He was in a good mood and was quite the story-teller. His syntactic idiosyncrasies and meandering mind wove the somewhat banal event into the indelible memory that it had clearly become for him, and he seemed enthusiastic to share it with Drew.

He’d taken Drew’s limited contributions to the conversation at face value, nodding gently when he explained that he was fine and perking up with interest at the mention of the blind pianist (“Oh wow, so much of his world must be sound!”).

His exuberance was undiminished as they left to head toward Drew’s office. Zeph was clearly excited to see it. Holding his hand (Zeph had laced their fingers together the moment they left the restaurant) was probably a bit like holding the leash on an energetic dog; he kept straining forward on those dancer’s legs, then realizing what he was doing and smiling abashedly up at Drew. He pulled out his vape pen and hit it casually as they walked, between prodding at Drew for details of the cases he was working on.

When Drew turned on the lights inside Rebel Rebel, Zeph looked around and then blinked slowly. “Oh um. Huh. I guess I was picturing, you know. More stuff.” The words were delivered slowly, as if he was still processing the situation while he spoke them (which he was). His wasn’t judgmental, or disappointed – he was just re-evaluating his expectations and fitting the setting into what he knew of Drew, which admittedly wasn’t that much. He returned the vampire’s smile, ducking his head against his bicep and wrapping him in a hug. He disengaged a little reluctantly before lowering himself into the indicated seat, grinning, and looking around once more. There was something akin to mischief gleaming in his eyes; it was the look of someone not-particularly-crafty attempting to plot.

“So,” he said, stretching his arms out above and behind him with his fingers latticed together. The movement (calculatedly) caused his t-shirt, a black v-neck, to ride up, exposing a ribbon of pale tummy. “What do you wanna do now?”

[Black Philip]

Zeph is so cute, and his attempt at being subversive was the latest in a long line of adorable gestures. To he honest, when I'm around him I want to drink less. That's an achievement. That pale, perfect tummy made me growl, and my eyes widened with some combination of lust and hunger. We hadn't had the feeding talk yet, but if Zeph was going to be my boyfriend or same shit without a label, I'd need to feed from him. Otherwise it would be a lot harder to date him and not feel guilty every time  I sucked another neck. 

Despite the temptation for me to go remove that pesky shirt of his, I sat in my chair. The desk served as a functional cock block while we talked. My end game was to feed, fuck, rinse and repeat for as long as Zeph could handle it. That was the dream, but to get there a few more things had to fall in place.

"Well, you had your dinner," I began, attempting to sound sheepish and like I had no agenda. I'm a lot better at lying than Zeph is, but I tired to make it obvious I was leading up to something. "What do you think about me feeding from you?"

I tried to make it sound like no big deal, because in reality it wasn't. It would bring us closer. It would pave the way to hot sex if Zeph was one of those mortals who became turned on by the bite. I imagined him begging me to fuck him, destroy him, never let go. Beneath my desk I started to harden. I had a feeling of deja vu, as I remembered Dreki sitting in that same seat just the night before. When had I suddenly started collecting hot twinks?

[suneater]

It was a little weird, sitting with Drew on the other side of the desk. Kind of hot, though. Like one of those videos for people who were into suits and offices as a kink. Zeph had no grasp of the professional world beyond his experiences with media and his part-time job at the New Age shop, so it was easy for his mind to wander down the path of fantasy. Maybe he was, like, trying to find out if his boyfriend was cheating on him, and he’d found Drew online and stopped by the office, and now he’d told him about all of his suspicions, and got all emotional, and Drew was all nice and comforting and stuff, but then when he gave him a hug Zeph noticed his huge boner and then their clothes went flying and Drew did that thing where he swept everything off the desk…

Distracted by the scenario, he had only half been paying attention to Drew’s response. He blinked slowly, then canted his head to the side a little.

What do you think about me feeding from you?

It was easy for him to forget Drew was a vampire. Since he had daytime classes, it wasn’t as if they were likely to hang out before sunset anyways. Zeph knew he was one, but he’d just mentally classified vampire as one of the many facets of his boyfriend’s identity, like race or astrological sign: ultimately, not that important compared to the fact that he was a person who made Zeph horny who he had feelings for.

His thoughts turned to Venture, and his encounter with Ben. Ben had wanted to feed from him. Zeph had decided that was really all Ben had wanted from him, which still felt a little raw. They’d talked about biting, because Zeph had been curious. He struggled to remember what Ben had said. That the people who were into it treated it kind of like sex, something like that, and then there are no words. It was cryptic, a non-answer. Maybe Drew could do better?

Zeph demeanor had shifted the instant the question was asked. Nervousness manifested, causing him to begin to drum the fingers of his right hand ever-so-slightly on his left thigh. For long seconds before he asked it, he looked like he was formulating the query that followed, clearly telegraphed by his uncertain, thoughtful expression.

“Um, Idunno, I… does it hurt? Do you have to take a lot? Do I need like, a cookie and orange juice afterward?” His voice was small, maybe a little childish. Just thinking of Venture diminished him a little bit, made him more like the Zeph who had hidden from the world for days until Drew intervened. The last bit might have seemed like a joke, but he didn’t look like he was trying to be funny. He regarded Drew solemnly and a little afraid from his chair.

[Black Philip]

I didn't like the way Zeph's face changed when I mentioned the biting.

Wow, your fucking stupid and selfish. He's still afraid of you.

I shook away the bad thoughts and focused on the Zeph in front of me. I got up slowly from my chest and walked around to the front of my desk, sitting on top of it instead. It felt more... intimate. I made my face calm, and tried to remember that Zeph liked me, and that being a vampire didn't change that.

"It actually feels really good. Either you get really chill and pleasant, or it makes you super horny, like out of this world, begging me to screw your brains out horny."

Perhaps I said too much? As I looked at him I realized I was hoping for the second reaction. Would he even be into that? I had a suspicious feeling yes.

[suneater]

The nymph pulled his long legs up onto the seat with him, wrapping his arms around his shins and resting his chin in his knees. His lips twitched into the faintest of upward curves when Drew emerged from behind the desk and sat on it, like a teacher on TV who was coded for being cool and relatable. That effortless cheesiness had earned him a smile, however slight.

"It's not like you'd need to bite me for that, doofus." He was still huddled in on himself, but he'd lapsed into a dorky grin. "Chill and horny is basically my brand." He unfurled himself from the seat, his lithe body a puzzle-box opening up to reveal him standing instead. His stride was stork-like as he crossed to the desk and set his hands on Drew's impressive thighs. He ducked his head in, possibly signaling a kiss, but rather than converging at the lips he quickly brushed his nose across Drew's before pulling back to lock eyes with him.

"I trust you," he intoned quietly, evenly, mind made up. His hands found Drew's, and he tugged. He didn't exert the force required to get him upright, but the intent was there.

[Black Philip]

I felt the tug and heard the words, and knew now was the moment. I moved towards him and actually picked him up, wrapping his legs around my waist and pressing a hungry kiss into him. My arms traveled up and down his back, and I squeezed him, feeling him adjust to my touch. I slowly worked my mouth down his smooth neck, licking the salt from his skin. His body felt warm, and alive, and the smell of him was as engorging as I scrapped my  fang along his neck, teasing at what was about to come. I had never wanted anything this bad, not even booze, and I sunk my teeth into the little sex morsel the first drop of his blood instantly getting my hard.

The taste. The fucking taste! It was like key lime pie, at least from what I can remember. No wait, was that citrus, a tangy grapefruit that smelled like flowers and laundry hanging in the breeze. I know it sounds odd that all those sensations rushed through me, but nymph blood was unlike anything I'd ever had. I sucked on him hard, feeling the warm liquid enter me, rouge my skin, and satisfying my hunger. His body squirmed in mine, but whether he was the horny bite or the relaxed one I didn't know.

I moved us, spinning him around and throwing him on the desk, my body on top of his, my weight pressing into him. I heard the boom-boom-boom of his heart and used it to know when I had to pull back. He tasted so amazing. I didn't want to stop. Just a little bit more blood wouldn't hurt right.

His life doesn't mean shit right?

I stopped, sealing the wound with a bloody lick, and I carried Zeph back to the chair and gently placed him there. I was so turned on I wanted to rip his clothes off and go straight for him, but I had to make sure he was okay with the feeding first.

[suneater]

A sound of surprise escaped his lips as Drew hoisted him. It was followed by a plaintive moan as their mouth's met. They hadn't known each other long, but there had been enough kissing in the weeks since Drew had rescued him that Zeph knew exactly what he liked. Mostly he yielded to him, but every so often he pushed back a bit, darting his tongue forward against Drew's playfully. It did seem like his lover was a little more forceful tonight though, which Zeph didn't mind at all. Zeph's dick stirred quickly, and for the length of the kiss he forgot completely about their discussion. He'd slung his arms over Drew's shoulders, leaning into him a bit to help balance, kissing eagerly. His eyes had drifted closed.

They opened when Drew pulled away and worked his way down Zeph's neck. Oh. Yeah. Suddenly, the nymph wished he weren't in the air- a fairly uncommon desire. Usually he did all he could to leave the terrestrial behind, but just then, he could have used some solidity to counter the acute vulnerability he was feeling. Drew was solid, but Drew was also about to bite him. Holyshithe'sgonnabiteme. He felt a hard point drag across sensitive flesh, startling but not painful.

It was too much. Too fast. They needed to talk more. He opened his mouth to warn Drew off, but then it happened. The words he had been about to form became something else. It was primal, the translation of raw sensation into sound. Soft, though. The still air in the office began to circulate, slowly enough at first that it might not be noticed, but as the bite persisted, the new currents were blatantly supernatural, enough to rifle errant papers and roll a pen off of Drew's desk.

He wasn't aware of what his body was doing. He wasn't aware of anything other than the concentrated pleasure-pain blasting through him. It came in waves that corresponded to gulps, each just as irresistible as the one before it. On some level he knew that it originated in his neck, but there was just too much to feel to try to cordon any of it off with body geography. His arms reflexively wrapped tight around Drew, and his dick was hot steel pressed between them, jutting into the vampire's belly as he took his fill. It was just too much. He couldn't think, or process, or try to understand. All he could do was experience it. He'd had crazy sex and experimented with just about every drug that wasn't heroin or meth and this was just more than any of that.

It was an eternity to Zeph before it finally ended. He shuddered on the desk beneath Drew, gasping suddenly for air. He'd barely been breathing through the bite. The wind that had stirred up faded immediately. He felt someone scoop him up and then set him down, but he still couldn't think straight. Cognitive function returned slowly, as if his body was booting back up after a long series of updates. He shuddered again in Drew's arms en route and slouched into the chair bonelessly, his mastery of his body completely dispelled by the Kiss.

"Ben was right," he mumbled, though his tongue was so heavy that it probably sounded more like behwahzrye. He finally opened his eyes and blinked as Drew came into focus. Awareness was hard to reckon with. His heart was pounding. His dick was harder than it had ever been, and very wet. His skin felt cold, from the sweat and the indoor breeze that had cooled it. He wanted to cry- he could feel the lacrimal process at work, but he had no idea why.

He wanted to do it again. He never wanted to do anything else. Was this what heroin was like? He could imagine giving up life for this. He suddenly surfaced from his see of thought, buoyed on a raft of desire. He needed to cum. He needed Drew inside of him. He needed something to remind him that there was a world beyond being bitten. His hands moved for Drew's belt, fumbling to undo it. His deftness still hadn't returned. He would need help. "Please fuck me," he begged. "Don't touch my dick, I'm so close."

[Black Philip]

God he looked so hot begging and pouting like that. He must've really enjoyed that bite, and that fact made me happy. I was hard as a rock, and had been since I started feeding, so I was more than ready to take this to the next level. I helped Zeph undo my pants, and my dick popped out. "Suck me," I said, voice commanding and deep. I didn't slam his head onto my dick as much as I guided it with a tug of his blonde hair, and once he'd set off to work, I moved us so that I could sit on my desk.

Sweet god I wanted to fuck him, and as my eyes stayed trained on his sweet face my right hand fumbled behind me trying to open my upper desk drawer. I eventually got it open and pulled out a bottle of lube. I had one on standby just in case I wanted to fuck in my office. It had been a while since I got a treat like this but - fuck Zeph was really working that rod - the lube bottle opened and my fingers were suddenly coated and slippery.

"Strip," I commanded again, standing up to do the same. Once we were both naked, I took only a second to look how hot and sexy Zeph was. I'd never seen him this pure looking, and at the same time like a total slut. It was the hottest combo. I stepped forward and grabbed him, throwing him onto my desk and putting his legs onto my shoulders. I tapped his hole with my dick, teasing it, letting the lube from my fingers coat myself, and him. I wouldn't bother fingering him. I knew I should probably try and open him up, but I was afraid he'd cum before I got started, and I needed this orgasm as badly as he did. Once I was coated in lube, I slid in slowly. It was a lot to accommodate, and I could feel Zeph's body in various states of tension and pleasure. "Let it happen," I guided, my tone softer than before, feeling him stretch and let me in. He felt so warm around me, and his dick looked seconds away from climaxing.

"Hold off as long as you can," I instructed, and to make sure he didn't get tempted I pinned his hands down. My first tempo was light, as his hole was still getting used to my girth. Once I felt those muscles relax and surrender to my dick, I picked up the pace. "Fuck," I yelled, my face likely a stupid sex expression, but I couldn't have cared less. This was everything. He was everything. As we fucked, I looked at his pretty face. Every subtle change made me want to fuck him harder, and I felt my own innards start to tense up. I wanted this show to end differently and I had an idea. I pulled his hands up and without pulling out lifted him and lied back on the floor of my office.

"Ride me," I yelled, throwing my muscular arms behind my back as a pillow. I'd let him drive for a bit, before holding him down and drilling my load into him.   

[suneater]

It was not the best head Zeph had ever given. His head was still light, and it felt like his brain's commands to his body were just a few seconds out of sync, disrupted by the pleasure overload he'd just experienced. He certainly tried, though. Having a dick in his mouth felt good, tasted good. The musky tang of it shifted a little focus from his haywire sense of touch. His eyes drifted closed as he bobbed and sucked. There was some light scraping of teeth in the early stages, but focusing on the task at hand (mouth?) seemed to help him return to his senses. Before long at all he'd fallen into a steady, pleasurable rhythm, taking Drew to the hilt and then pulling back to put a little focus on his head every other second.

His eyes fluttered open after Drew's command, and he looked up from his knees. He pulled back, his mouth copiously wet with saliva, and then managed to get his feet beneath him. He pulled off his shirt, then struggled out of his pants, hopping deftly-but-still-comically on one foot to get the tight garment off his lower body. He peeled off his underwear naked, his dick bobbing in front of him. His pale, dancer's body was completely on display, and his bright blue eyes were drinking in the details of Drew's physique- particularly his wet, engorged cock. His gaze was pure lust.

Suddenly Drew had a hold of him, and the next thing he knew his bare back was on the desk. Drew maneuvered between his legs and then hiked them over his shoulders, and then he felt the fat head of Drew's dick against his hot, needy hole. He didn't want to be opened up. He didn't want foreplay. He barely wanted lube. He wanted Drew to split him open, make him scream, make him shoot. There was no thought given to a condom. Zeph was on PReP, but even if he wasn't, he wouldn't have questioned it. He didn't just want Drew's load in him- he needed it, more than he'd ever needed anything.

His mouth formed a wide, perfect "O" when Drew started pushing. He forgot everything he knew about taking dick for a few seconds until Drew's gentle words grounded him. Grabbing hold of the backs of his own thighs and pulling his legs toward his body in a display of flexibility worthy of a dancer, he gave himself to Drew. He focused on his hole and Drew'd dick until the rest of the world slipped away. He pushed against him just slightly with the muscles inside of him, creating just enough resistance to help Drew get deeper into his guts. "You're so big," he murmured. His eyes had closed again as his lover slowly worked himself all the way in.

Then it finally started. Drew had immobilized his hands. It actually hurt a little, but Zeph didn't care. Drew was fucking him, and it was better than the several times he'd imagined it happening while playing with toys. He felt himself give way to Drew's cock, felt it opening him up, and then with more and more frequency, felt it push into his prostate. "Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Ohmygod FUCK." He pressed his lips shut, but there was still a little moan from behind them every time Drew went all the way in. His eyes flew open, and he grinned a slutty little grin up at Drew. His dick had flagged slightly during the initial phases, when pain and concentration defined the process, but now it was hard again, and wet, jutting out, wavering slightly while Drew brutalized him.

Drew lifted him again, and this time they ended up on the ground. Zeph didn't need any urging to pick up where Drew had left off. He planted his feet and shifted forward into something of a squat. It was the sort of positioning that only usually happened in adult entertainment, but Zeph's powerful, well-trained legs were more than capable of pulling it off. He planted his hands on Drew's chest, thumbs and index fingers clamping down hard on his nipples, and then got to work. Judging from the determined, prurient look on his face, he planned to earn that load. Hinging at the hips, he began slamming his meaty ass down on Drew's cock, impaling himself over and over again. It was just as merciless as Drew's plowing had been just a half-minute before. His movements were perfection, lifting him just enough that Drew nearly popped out before dropping him down again. All the while, he squeezed and wriggled, wringing as much pleasure as he could out of Drew's cock- and imparting it equivalently.

He was sweating before long. He straightened up and then fell back, bracing himself with his hands on the ground to the sides of Drew's thighs, landing him in something of a backward bridge. His dick waved in obscene circles in time with his bucking hips, pointing toward the wall behind Drew. He didn't miss a stroke as he transitioned, but he did throw his head back and moan.

"Give me your load, fuck, please, shoot inside me daddy, FUCK! I'M GONNA- UNGH!"

It started before he finished the words. His slender dick twitched and then began to unload. Because of the angle, the first two shots went clear over Drew's head, but the third and fourth arced onto his chin and then his neck. He didn't stop riding Drew, even as he gasped and moaned and panted. It continued to seep from his dick, his movements flinging drops of it in every direction. He lost a bit of steam, as far as his gymnastic power-bottoming went, and Drew would probably get the sense that he was going to give out completely soon. There were little tremors in his limbs that carried throughout his whole naked body.

 

[Black Philip]

He was even better at that than I expected. The porn positioning was a nice touch, and he was as greedy as I was. Maybe he and I had more in common than on the surface. In all that time I watched him had I missed some striking similarity between us? We were both insatiable pleasure fiends. In my case it was to numb my existence, and the rage. As he plunged himself up and down my rod, getting me closer and closer to fulfilling his filthy and delightful requests, I wondered what Zeph's reason for being so hedonistic could be. Could it really be as simple as some people just like to feel good no matter the cost?

Now, I know what you're thinking. Drew, how with your dream guy servicing you and calling you daddy do you have time to have a philosophical query about your lover's nature? The answer is simple. I don't get to ever experience bliss, and that's what this moment between us was, bliss. Now back to the regularly scheduled smut. When he came, I felt myself on the threshold. As he rode me, clearly exhausted, I made a call on how to finish. I sat up and guided his lips to mine. As we kissed, I began to pound, holding his sweaty body to mine in a tender and restraining embrace. As I reached my climax, I groaned a loud, deep groan. It was fucking primal and I pumped my seed into this amazing man I got to feed from and fuck. I kept pounding during my ejaculation but as I truly finished I slowed to a stop. He'd already taken a beating, and I wanted more kisses, and to hold his quivering body. There was no need to pull out. It was a form on bonding. He felt warm and wet in my arms, and I felt soothing and cool in his.

I closed my eyes, and wished for just a moment we could've been two humans and drifted off to sleep like this. However, I knew sleep would not come in the night, at least not for me. I held him tight and whispered, "sooooo that was nice." Then I nervous laughed like a little bitch. Jesus.

[suneater]

Something inside Zeph gave when Drew took control. He was spent in every way possible; he shook in Drew's arms. He was being kissed, kissing, and he'd forgotten completely that Drew still needed to finish. There was no room in his head for thinking, and when Drew began to hammer him he crumpled against him. The intensity of being so totally filled was jarring in the wake of his own orgasm, neither pleasurable nor painful. It was almost too much. Zeph's involvement in the tail-end of their fucking became entirely receptive. Tongue, cock, energy - he had nothing left to provide, but he could make himself a vacuum, could drink it in.

He felt Drew shudder, a different sort of shudder than the ones that had been wracking his slender frame. He felt him surge, unload. He'd wanted that load so badly, but now his gratitude was largely that it was finished. He sank into Drew's embrace while his lover softened inside him, resting his burning cheek against the cool porcelain of Drew's chest. His breath came in small, uneven gulps, and he shivered. His neck, where Drew had bitten him, felt different than the rest of his body. It was as if he'd been touched by a live wire and the electricity had infiltrated his skin and frozen there mid-dance.

Nice wasn't the word that came to mind. He'd unfogged enough that things were coming to mind, and he couldn't even begin to name what had just happened to him. He'd had many different kinds of sex since discovering the joys of his own and other penises, but nothing had ever been like this. It was more like standing at the edge of a cliff and looking down at a deadly fall. It was the risk of a body broken, the violent surge of fear when the sensors inside the body realized that gravity had taken hold and there was only a thin ribbon of someone else's sky between you and the ground.

He couldn't speak, not yet. He needed to be held. He needed reassurances that he wasn't falling, reminders of reality. He let out what he'd thought would be a breath but turned out to be nearly a sob. He closed his eyes and burrowed against Drew. Between the vampire's cold flesh and the sweat evaporating on his completely exposed body, he was cold. He wanted blankets, to be blotted out in blankets. He could make enough warmth for both of them, with blankets sealed around them.

"S-sorry," he stammered. He was aware enough to realize that a post-coital sob could be misconstrued. "That was just... a lot." He peeled away enough to meet Drew's gaze. "I liked it, I think. I just... I feel a little lost." His lips twitched into a weak smile. "But also kind of found."

[Black Philip]

I was concerned by the sob, and also thought I might've fucked him too hard. I'm fairly strong for my age, and I'd be so invested in cumming that I considered I wasn't being properly restrained. Then he explained, and I connected it back to it being his first feeding. I had just introduced him to a drug like no other, and I was glad it had been me. Others would take advantage of him. Others would abuse him. I'd be different than that, better even. I cared too much to watch him suffer. I pulled him for another kiss.

"Don't be sorry," I assured. "It was a new experience for you."

I decided to go for what I really wanted. I had Zeph in the best place possible to ask. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

[suneater]

Zeph managed to kiss him back, but he was clearly still taxed by the experience. Full control of his senses and his body were slow to return. He kissed slowly. He was drained of passion, but there was affection there. He could feel Drew finally softening inside him. It wouldn't be long before he was out entirely. That thought made the nymph feel even colder, and another shiver ran through him. He rested his head on Drew's shoulder. He'd been just about to ask Drew to carry him to bed when the sobering question came.

The fact that it was sobering made him realize how like drunkenness his current state was. He wondered, briefly, if there would be a hangover as well. As was often the case when that question cropped up, he decided quickly that it was a problem for future Zeph. Water probably wasn't a bad idea though. His grasp of hard biology was tenuous at best, but he was pretty sure he needed water to make more blood.

"Oh." He straightened his spine and regarded Drew, his expression a mix of surprised and serious. "Well, um, what... what does that word mean to you?" He realized that he had answered a question with a question, and that his response wasn't the immediate yes Drew had probably been looking for. "I mean, I do, I just, that means different things to different people and we should, umm, be on the same page." He nodded, and then ducked back against Drew, clinging to him.

"Can we talk about it under some blankets though, or in the shower? I'm freeeezing."

[Black Philip]

Well that didn’t sound good. Zeph’s less than yes response left me unsure what to do. Part of me wanted to call the whole thing off right there. I hadn’t asked a guy to be in a relationship with me since Wesley, and he asked me! My face turned into a confused and disappointed grimace, and I said, “suuuuure,” disentangling us, and finally standing. I didn't get what he meant. I mean, maybe my age was finally showing but to me you were either together or not. This whole, “on the same page” thing didn’t sit right, and it showed up in that I was distant as I opened the door and led him to my dreary upstairs apartment. 

I actually had to look for blankets. I don’t need to stay warm, but I’d had enough tricks come over that I had a nice thick wool blanket on standby. I found it in the corner of my bedroom, and remembered Dreki had used it just the night before. I sat up on the mattress, and waited for Zeph to get comfy. I didn’t speak because honestly I didn’t know what to say. I was worried I’d come off like a needy bitch, or go the other route and be so standoffish he’d wonder why I asked to date him in the first place. Finally, I found the words I needed.

“So since for me this seems easy, and for you it seems complicated why don’t you start and tell me what you’re looking for.”

It was more accusatory than I’d hoped, but not inaccurate. A simple yes would’ve made me the happiest I’d been in years. Instead, I was given the joys of ambiguity and uncertainty.