Pre-drinks Dinner

[Existentially Odd]

"You smell good. Is that Calvin Klein?"
"Mhmm," Kerr agreed noncommittally, skewing an eyebrow towards the child trotting at his side.
"Eternity?"
"Aye. Don\'t you love the irony?
He was rewarded with a tinkling giggle, though it was shortlived.
"For her?"
"No. For men."
The laugh came back, in its high-pitched, sarcastic form. It floated into the night as they walked steadily towards their destination. Well, Kerr\'s destination; Sawyl was just clinging to his hand and skipping along to antagonise him, it seemed.
"Smells good, anyway."
"Thank you."
"She might even lick it off you."
"Sawyl..."
"Think she\'ll dress up?" the boy asked slyly, recognising the warning tone for what it was.
"Probably."
"Better than that awful hospital attire, I should imagine."
Kerr\'s jaw clenched; they\'d had the argument about Wyl ferretting about inside his mind freely. It would do no good to rehash it.
Jauntily, the boy - who was dressed in the very average attire of beige cargo pants and a caramel coloured polo shirt - leapt over a puddle and hastened his steps as his adult companion sped up; his level of discontent was directly related to the pace of his walking, apparently.
"Hungry, are you?"
"No."
"Oh?" When Kerr didn\'t rise to the bait, Sawyl tried a different tack, switching to Gaelic to startle him into responding. "Then why are you in such a hurry to reach the fast-food restaurant?"
"It\'s a club," Kerr ground out, in English.
"Potatoe, potarto," the boy piped dismissively (persisting with their native tongue). "You certainly don\'t go to any effort."
"You wouldn\'t have a clue."
"That\'s right; I work for it."
"You play with your food."
"You never complained before."
"Oh, stop that."
"What?"
"Grinning like a buffoon."
"I wasn\'t. Is a buffoon an animal, d\'you think?"
"And speak English."
"Why?"
"Oh I don\'t know...how about because I\'d like you to?"
"No need to get testy."
"Then don\'t mock me."
"I\'m not. I\'m mocking your choice of eating habits."
"You go your way; I go mine."
"You\'re a masochist."
"A what?"
"You heard me."
"Why?"
"Because you get so close... but you dare not touch. Well, with anything fatal, anyway."
"Wyl," Kerr exploded, coming to a sudden stop and whirling the minor to face him, "why are you here?"
"I just... want to see," he pouted, looking cutely up at his guardian as he shoved ringlets out of his eyes with a fat hand - the one not being crushed by its temperamental captor.
"You\'ve seen enough!"
"Haven\'t!"
"Don\'t be childish," the adult spat.
"I am a child," the boy responded viperishly.
Kerr pressed his lips together, recognising that he was being taunted but thoroughly baffled by the behaviour. They had spent decades working through the grief of the adulthood that would never be Sawyl\'s; Kerr felt the anguish of it as keenly as his beloved, it only hurt him to be reminded of his luck and the child\'s horrific circumstances anew. Why did he want to hurt him? He couldn\'t possibly fathom the motivation, but he guessed it was something to do with Mandy... he just didn\'t know if it was Sawyl\'s trademark curiosity pushing him to such waspish lengths, or something far more sinister.
"Love, I..." he began, falling to his knees in his very expensive navy blue suit, cupping the chubby, dimpled cheeks in both hands - until the cherubic face was eclipsed by a glower of anger so purely hateful that he froze.
"Don\'t patronise me!"
"I\'m not, I -"
"You what? You\'re sorry? Just forget it!" he cried, grasping the wrists near his jaw and wreching the large hands away voilently. Kerr had no strength to truly fight him, anyway; not now. "Just go and get yourself a feed before you see her; wouldn\'t want to lose the illusion, would you?" he snarled furiously.
"Is that what is upsetting you? That I haven\'t told her?"
"She\'s nothing! A food source; you\'re embarrassing yourself!" he sneered cruelly. His beautiful blue eyes were squinted, his angelic face contorted with rage as he glared nastily into the bewildered, brown-eyed gaze before him.
"Why do you hate her so?" Kerr beseeched, his own expression distorted with sadness.
"It\'s not her I hate!" Sawyl yelled and, with a final, damning curl of his lip, he ran away as fast as his powerful little legs could carry him.
Kerr could only watch him go, feeling utterly crestfallen... until it occurred to him that there\'d been no tears. When Sawyl was truly upset, he lost control of himself in nearly every way possible. There were always tears and very likely mental anguish and pain that lasted a night (sometimes two). Lasted in the minds of those around him, anyway. Despite the yelling and the self-deprecating references, Sawyl wasn\'t yet at the end of his short tether; he was testing Kerr. Was he, perhaps, afraid of where Kerr\'s loyalties lay? It was a ridiculous notion
 
Really? Sure about that? Wyl\'s been playing it awfully fast and loose since he came to the nameless city... was gone a week, even. That seem like the type of trust you\'ve always had? Worthy of devotion?
 
because nothing would come between he and his best friend. His constant companion. His beloved.
 
Would it?
 
Frowning, Kerr got to his feet, brushing off the knees of his suit and hastening to Risk. The sun had been gone barely half an hour - the expensive watch on his left wrist had been a late addition to his outfit, so as not to repeat the events of the night before, and it said that the time was precisely 6:31pm - but he wanted to allow himself time at the club. He had a plan.
 
The bouncers gave him a disapproving glare as he passed them, reminding him that the last time he\'d been here, he\'d rescued Mandy and left in such a flutter of nervousness that he\'d commanded them pretty harshly not to let her in again, without him. Their looks now seemed to gloat in the fact that he was alone and had nothing to invade their minds about. His gaze lowered appropriately as he brushed past them.
 
The club had a few patrons, but it was empty enough that Soundgarden\'s plaintive request for a black hole sun to come and wash away their pain seemed all the more loud and poignant for the lack of bodies pressed together on the dance floor, soaking up the volume. Kerr looked around, hopeful that someone clean and warm would miraculously realise that he was in need of a neck to suck and approach him, but not deluded enough to waste too much energy on willing it to happen. He swung a leg over a stool at the bar - his cane left at home for once - and ordered a warm glass of blood (not too large, just in case that offer came his way).

[Trillian]

[ooc] Throwing in what could be a disposable charrie or a new one, depending on how this one goes, testing the waters [/ooc]
 
He\'d been told about Them. He\'d laughed about it, had entered the club on a dare, been told to watch. He\'d learned about Them.
 
It had taken him weeks to work up the courage to return, been told that being drunk from was better than any drug, that they could heal again with a quick nip of their own skin, a drip of their own blood, could make the scar disappear like magic. Of course he\'d been afraid, so afraid, but he\'d used to love Them, idolise Them, wanted to be one of Them. Such a worship didn\'t go away upon finding out They were real.
 
He was here again, surrounded by Them, keeping his hoodie up because he was scared of being beckoned. So far, with lack of eye contact, he\'d managed not to draw attention. Tonight was the night though, he\'d worked up the courage, he would let Them take blood from him, he would find out what was so good that had his friends so eager for it that they sometimes offered their bodies along with their blood.
 
Swallowing and feeling the dry lump in his throat he headed for the bar, ordering a glass of water and purposefully choosing a seat next to someone else. Maybe he was one of Them, maybe he was more like himself, whatever. He had to look and see, but after the water, after his heartrate slowed to a pulse that beat triple time beyond what the song offered.
 
Licking his lips he swallowed three gulping mouthfuls and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Red lips, naturally coloured in a way that made people comment. He didn\'t bite at them, or put on lipstick, they were simply that way. He\'d been taunted in school, but not so much now. Girls squealed over them, wanted to have them, desired to have him press his lips against theirs - perhaps to see if the colour would exchange between them. Silly thoughts, dear god, dear god, why was he here?
 
And now he glanced up, light blue eyes that pierced the gloom and stared into the face of the man beside him. A man? One of Them? He wasn\'t really sure, he couldn\'t tell in this light. He swallowed again, it was easier now, the water helped. He listened to his heartbeat race and opened his rosy-coloured lips to utter a single word: "Hello."
 
It sounded so much calmer than he\'d felt, he was surprised. In the middle of being surprised, he snatched down his hoodie to reveal a mop of sandy blonde hair, streaked gold by a dye-job and the sun, needing a haircut.
 
How does one ask if someone is one of Them?
 
"Are you... you know... " he glanced away for a moment before returning his gaze to the man(?) beside him. "One of Them?"
 
His mouth had obviously not strayed far from his thoughts and even though inwardly he cringed at how idiotic he sounded, he kept his stare fixed on the fellow beside him. He wanted to know. He looked like he wanted to know.

[Existentially Odd]

Them. Hmmm. For a brief moment, Kerr considered that he was being asked about something far more steeped in conspiracy or intrigue than whether he was supernatural or not - though what it could be, had honestly had no idea - but he could smell fear emanating from the mortal. It then occurred to him that he could be being asked about whether he was someone in particular, an Oligarch perhaps, and that gave him pause. He frowned apologetically at the young man, realising he would have to admit his ignorance.

"One of who?" he asked, his voice considerately lowered as he leaned toward the mortal. The way his eyes darted about, the nervous aura of him; Kerr expected to be assailed by cloaked demons any second (and his mind was in turmoil enough to spring to life and carry that image merrily further). He gripped his glass of blood slightly tighter, convincing himself by sense alone that he had something to be wary of.

[Trillian]

The subtle movement of the man\'s hand around the glass drew his attention and he found his stare locked upon it. Red Stuff. Bloody mary. At this bar? Oh. Fuck. He was one of Them. Swallowing again, perhaps swallowing his fear, one big solid lump that moved down his throat and seemed to stay in his chest, joining with the thud-thud-thud of his heart as though it wanted to suffocate the noise - perhaps clog up his heart and make it stop.
 
What. The. Fuck. He was thinking the most insane thoughts. He ripped his gaze from the glass and back to the man\'s eyes again. He didn\'t know whether to bow his head in obediant loyalty or re-address him as though his original question (and question in reply) had not been voiced. That would be bad, don\'t upset him, he\'s a Him, one of Them, one of Those that can offer you... so... much.
 
He shook his head, a little too vigorously perhaps, did he look insane? Crazy? He wondered if he looked like he was high. He didn\'t like drugs though, the promise of \'donating blood\' hadn\'t drawn him because of the likeneness to drugs however, as had been promised. It was the opportunities it gave. Give to Them, befriend Them, become one of Them.
 
Or die trying.
 
That was the Risk though, wasn\'t it? That was this club. That was the promise it gave. He wanted to be marked, but he needed to be known, he needed the club owner to see that he was doing a good job, he needed to be protected. But first he had to take the Risk.
 
"A vampire," he said simply, suddenly, amazing himself at his own audacity. Why did he sound so together when inside he felt frazzled? He\'d read They could read minds, turn into bats, not be seen in mirrors. He could see this man in the mirror opposite the bar though, so that was bogus. What was legend and what was truth? "You\'ve come here to drink from a glass?"
 
He couldn\'t rip his stare from the other\'s eyes, couldn\'t look away. Was he being mesmerized or was he mesmerising himself? He was often told he stared people down, that his eyes were intense, that he appeared to look through people\'s souls. It was just his eye colour, too light he thought, but some people liked them, some people liked him because of them. Shallow, yes, but he was used it.
 
His desire outweighed his fear, for now.

[Existentially Odd]

"Oh," Kerr uttered blandly, his paranoia melting instantly away.  The kid had been making him nervous, but for what? For information. Since it was personal information, Kerr would give freely. His shoulders lost their tension as his gaze fell to the glass now cradled in his hands. It embarrassed him somewhat, now that the mortal had said it like that; but dare he share the truth of his own ineptitude when it came to \'hooking up\', as it were?

He cleared his throat and gave the glass a fast little rotation, causing the liquid within to swirl and coat the inner surface in an undulating layer of red that became slowly more translucent as gravity won the battle over centrifugal force. He looked back at the piercing gaze that was boring into his and he gave a slight smile. Not enough to show the fangs that had emerged as soon as he\'d taken his first swig of blood -they weren\'t fully extended but... aware might be the word for their position - but a grin shy enough to (hopefully) put the stranger at ease.

"Well. Yes, I am a vampire," he answered, briefly considering offering the extra information of his age and origins. His lilting accent would do as far as that urge went, however; it wan\'t like he was giving some interview or needed to give qualifications to prove his claim. The thought turned the smile on his lips wry, and he lifted the glass slightly to indicate that it was the object about which he spoke as he said: "As for this, sometimes it\'s the easiest way in here. You never know who you\'ll meet; I\'m fairly particular who I... uh... well, I don\'t like smokers or users or anything odd. And it\'s more difficult than you realise to find someone clean and sober, at times. So I take what\'s convenient until such time as I decide to pursue... other avenues."

His head tilted back and he looked down at the boy more shrewdly now, eyes half-lidded in his sudden appraisal. It had been a stupid thing of him to say - more difficult than you realise - but it set him to thinking nevertheless. Maybe this newcomer was as new to the process as Kerr was (or maybe just as awkward at it), and there\'d been more motivating his query than mere curiosity. Perhaps he intended to offer himself. With a flicker of his eyes, he took in the boy\'s appearance more carefully; he looked relatively wholesome... perhaps this was how it was done, after all?  A warm rush flowed through him at the thought of a proper feeding at long last.

[Trillian]

When he saw the smile he didn\'t know whether to relax or freak out, but his body took over from his addled mind and smiled in return, though it was halting and tight, soon disappearing off his face.
 
Vampire.
 
He said, he said the word, the man that was not a man said the word.  The accent didn\'t hide it, nor lull it, it seemed to make the word more real, more there.  He blinked at the other, one of Them, the Vampire, a slow blink that broke the spell he\'d wound around himself.  The tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips and then withdrew as quickly as it had reappeared.
 
He felt old, like his bones were suddenly brittle, like a robot that needed oiling. He felt like if he moved he would start creaking.  His breathing sounded too loud for his ears, he could hear it above the loud pulse of music.  Was that even possible?  His ears twitched as he consciously thought about them, a small pull of the muscles that was an uncontrollable movement.
 
"I don\'t smoke, or do drugs," he confessed, but frowned and immediately reiterated.  "Lately.  I\'ve tried... a long time ago.  Last year," he shook his head, closed his eyes and found himself now looking at the glass of red liquid in the vampire\'s hands.  He fixated on it as he continued speaking, his mouth feeling more dry with every word.  "I tried something, last year, didn\'t like it, I didn\'t repeat."
 
His gaze lifted, seemed to scroll an entire dimension as it climbed the vampire\'s sleeves and up the arms to the shoulder, then his face, a thoughtful face, a human face, one that he might not have paid attention to in the street, when late night shopping.
 
"I haven\'t had a drink," he said, his glass of water forgotten at his elbow.  When had he turned around to look at the vampire directly?  When had his body repositioned itself on his stool so that he was gazing deeply into this vampire\'s eyes as though he was his saviour?  He was a Follower, he knew this, he\'d always adored Them, worshipped Them, wanted Them to be real.
 
This didn\'t feel real, he was too controlled, his speech too deliberate, his words too manipulative.  He was steering the conversation in a direction his mind wanted but hadn\'t planned.  Licking his lips again he could still feel his accelerated heartbeat, the quick breath in his own ears.  Could this man read his mind?  Would he know the demented path it was taking that betrayed his semi-cool exterior.  He had to know, he had to!  He was one of Them.  They didn\'t miss anything.
 
Please.  Please give me what I want.

[Existentially Odd]

Like a security light had sprung to life and illuminated the driveway of an expensive home, the way was suddenly clear and safe, to Kerr. He took a moment to smile reassuringly at the boy, then turned to drain his glass. The mortal had as good as volunteered to be drunk from, but he wouldn\'t want to lose his life (nor would Kerr demand such a price from someone who had met his high standards at last) and the vampire was suddenly ravenous. Best to finish the drink he\'d started, to ensure the mortal\'s safety, and allow the top-up of fresh blood to sate him.

He swivelled on his stool, one of his suit-clad legs dipping down and then rapidly reappearing between the mortal\'s as he swung, their legs straddling one another in a position almost as intimate as the one they were about to undertake... assuming Kerr was reading the body language of rapid breathing, racing pulse and glazed eyes correctly. His lips twisted slightly and his head leaned to the side as he realised he should be certain. It was a necessary courtesy.

He reached out slowly - expecting the boy to flinch - and gently touched the stranger\'s neck. He brushed aside unkempt strands of gold on first one side, then the other, in order to press the pads of his cool fingers against the hot flesh there. Not only was the youth in a warm jumper, he had himself worked to a frazzle; by touching the place he might soon bite, Kerr wanted him to feel that the area was already broached, to a degree. To make the piercing less shocking.

"I\'m Kerr," he crooned, cupping the left side of the mortal\'s neck firmly in his right hand, before it dropped back to his knee. A name was part of the courtesy, surely? He was grateful enough at the prospect of a donor, that he felt it was the least he could offer. His smile remained, also. "I take it this is the first time you\'ve offered yourself to be fed from?" No sense sugar-coating it when he wanted to be sure they were on the same wavelength. Subtly, he glanced around the club as he listened for the youngster\'s response, intending on leading him to one of the booths they had here - somewhere as dark and private as possible for their first time - as soon as he had confirmation that the mortal was willing. His gaze took in the position of the boy\'s hand, too, so that the leading would not be awkward and their transition from bar to booth would be as smooth as possible.

[Trillian]

The vampire smiled and turned away from him, causing him to blink several times in quick succession before the surprise at watching the other drinking blood in front of him faded away.  It was like his surprise had been the glass of blood itself, and with every gulp it drained away.  Strange, how as the offensive liquid was taken out of sight it had less of an effect on him.
 
He didn\'t dare swallow, thinking his imagination would transfer the taste of blood into his own mouth, but now he needed to cough.  He had the oddest prediction that when the Vampire turned around again, his face would be half covered in blood like in the movies.  It was stupid of course, for unless he\'d missed his mouth entirely, the drinking would be tidy.  Would it be as tidy from him?  From his neck?  The urge to cough persisted.  He cleared his throat as the vampire\'s next move was to turn back to him, a leg snaked between his own.
 
Wide eyed and far from innocent, he found himself closed-mouthed and marvelling that his thoughts were clearing from the jumbled mess they\'d been at the beginning, and transforming into something that was processing every single little detail as it happened and burning it into his memory.
 
A reaching hand was not something he shied from, the speed of it\'s approach was obvious in its attempt not to scare him.  He kept perfectly still, not wishing to shy away and send the opposite signal that he\'d intentionally given until now.  The awkward introduction was passed, it was up to the vampire now whether he wished to accept the offer.
 
He.  Him.  They.  Them.  He felt like all eyes were watching their interactions.  He felt like the bar was in the middle of the stage and everyone in the audience was holding their breath to see what would happen next.  But it wasn\'t them, it was him, he was holding his breath.  He released it as the icy pads of the vampire\'s fingers connected with his neck, brushing knuckles as his hair was toyed with and adjusted.
 
Kerr.
 
He had a name, an unusual but acceptable name to match his accent.  It was a soft accent, and this was something else that calmed him.
 
"Ben," he said in reply, not really able to mouth a sentence around his name because of the chills that ran down his spine, making him squirm a little despite not wishing to, causing his light blue eyes to close very slowly and open again, a lash falling upon his cheek.  Make a wish, but it was already granted.  He had the attention of one of Them.  A deal was being struck, and done better than simply signed in blood.
 
At the question he nodded, just once, the hand upon his neck would register this movement, his cheeks flushing with the recognition and acknowledgement of his inexperience at such a thing.  He felt like blustering the reason why he was choosing to give himself now, but he couldn\'t think of one.  He just had to.  It was a stupid reason, but it was all he had.
 
When Kerr looked around the club Ben continued to watch him, not wanting to look in case his eyes met with someone else.  He didn\'t know how he would react if he really was being watched.  He half-believed he would back off and run away.  He had to stay focussed, he had to go through with this, he was so very close.
 
And he was still scared.  Funny, he thought he was over that fear.  But Kerr terrified him, the unknown terrified him.  The vampire seemed nice, but this was a place that was dangerous for his kind.  Would it hurt?  Would it feel good?  Would it be both?  He wasn\'t really into pleasure and pain.  How would Kerr go about it?  Would it happen here?  Everything was obvious and in the open, would it be more like a kiss or closer to sex?  Was it like that at all?  Would he be entranced?
 
He studied Kerr as though he would have to draw up one of those criminology create-a-face puzzles.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr had sighted exactly where he wished to go. He took Ben\'s hand and stepped off his stool in one smooth motion, smiling quite shyly down at his mortal companion (who still looked like he might tuck his tail between his legs and run at any second, despite committing himself to the act) as he began to lead him towards the entrance.

The ground floor was a pattern of concentric circles leading up to the alter-like centrepiece of a hardwood dancefloor, panelled with random squares of strong plastic that had coloured lights shooting upward through them. This raised area was surrounded by a ripple of booths - it was large enough to serve as a stage, at eye level when standing at the bar and flamboyant beneath the heavy racks of flashing lighting and enormous speakers. The pattern repeated in various ways around the attention-grabbing central platform and its ring of adoring booths, in expansive swirls of walkways, steps, plastic floor panels covering pulsing lights, mini dance floors and rounded booths. There were a few exotically-attired dancers floating about the middle of the room, gyrating suggestively against one another or merely lounging about laughing and chatting (yelling). This swirling sea of pounding rhythm and erratic lighting was not what Kerr had in mind at all.

Almost hidden behind the stairs that curled gregariously up to the exclusive second floor (the elaborately bannistered staircase spanned the entire curve of the back half of the room, with two landings for viewing - or dancing for maximum attention - placed strategically along it) was a corridor, of sorts. There were columns placed at regular intervals from near the entrance side of the bar, all around to the far side, whose job it was to support the Topaz Lounge. Behind those decorated pillars and beneath the VIP overhang was a darkened walkway, off which were numerous little rooms. Though their side and back walls were solid, they were open at the front, the illusion of privacy offered by the presence of ceiling-to-floor curtains of varying shades - but all of the same basic opacity; sheer.

This was where Kerr headed with his prize, his grip on the boy gentle but commanding. He liked the way Ben pressed against him as he strode, almost as if he was worried that he would be spotted by someone, or get lost somehow, in the relatively sparse crowd. Kerr passed two rooms and settled on the third - one had been occupied and the second had been strewn only with huge cushions. The third had a round, blue velvet booth with a small table in front of it, holding the flickering candle that was a mainstay in every room (for how else was a distracted couple going to know if a room with no door was occupied but by a subtle light that shone through the gossamer curtain... showing just enough to entice, but no real details?).

He swept through the thin material and sat Ben down on his right - finding this the most comfortable feeding position for him - admiring the boy\'s handsome features in the subdued lighting. His smile became even more bashful - never had he endeavoured to take such care with a victim... donor... before.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked softly, his gaze drawn irrevocably to that smooth throat.

[Trillian]

As his hand was taken he became pliant, controllable, following along as though he were a child in a supermarket, overwhelmed by the colours of random product surrounding him.  Risk was really not much different, the metaphor suited.
 
His fingers curled around Kerr\'s and he walked very closely.  Should the vampire have stopped, he would\'ve pressed into him with the momentum of movement.  Kerr didn\'t stop however, or slow, until he got to his destination.
 
Ben found Kerr\'s fingers weren\'t as cold to the touch against his palm.  Perhaps it was the sensitivity of skin, or it could be the blood that he\'d drunk already.
 
As he was lowered to sit beside Kerr and the moment of their planned bond drew closer, Ben began to feel trapped in the situation he\'d created for himself.  His mouth ran dry, his heartrate seemed to skip a few beats (and if he\'d thought it was accelerated before, he\'d known nothing), his breathing had heightened to the point where he was half-panting.  A dry mouth sucking in lots of air tickled his throat again and he raised a fist over his lips to cough into it.  Those lips were soon swiped by his tongue quickly, and he found himself looking at Kerr for 1 every 3 seconds.  The table was getting most of his attention at the moment.
 
"I\'ve..."
 
He\'d what?  More useless words to confirm what Kerr already knew?  He\'d never done this before, he\'d not expected things to go so quickly... it was rhetorical, whatever it was.
 
He shook his head, indicating he didn\'t wish to pursue his sentence.  Kerr\'s eyes felt warm upon him, and he matched that gaze with his pale stare.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr was torn between feeling sympathetic towards Ben\'s anxiety - wanting to go and get him some water or something else to calm him down - or simply get on with it so that the mortal could overcome his fear by having the auspicious occasion pass as quickly into his history as was possible. In the end, his demon side won out and he went with plan B; get it over and done with. He was too aroused by the prospect of that pounding heart pushing blood down his throat to resist any longer, anyway.

He began with a very deliberate plan, in the least intimidating position that he could contemplate, but as soon as his fangs pierced the virgin flesh of his donor, Kerr\'s logical progression unravelled rapidly. He\'d moved as a blur, not wishing to give Ben too much time to process his fear before the sensation kicked in; his right arm sliding along the high back of their curved seat to grip the youth\'s shoulder and his face nuzzling for the vein at his throat. He\'d rolled over slightly on his right thigh, in order to bend down to the shorter man\'s neck, left leg planted for balance.

The heartbeat... strong and fast, just as I like it... rushing... but not with fear of the unknown, not this time. Fear of the known, but of the inexperienced. The unordained. Interesting. Still... essentially irrelevant; it\'s all just fear and adrenalin in the end.

His lips tingled as they contacted that vertical line of heat, his tongue flattening along it lasciviously, the stud within the muscle not much warmer for being held within a mouth. His aching canines grew at the imminence of sustenance being given, and though he tried his damndest to relish the moment - to move his tongue tip and lips up and down a little in as comforting a gesture as he could attempt at that moment - he couldn\'t wait. His need was too large, the solution too close, and he bit.

Sweet, hot power flooded into him, lighting and quenching fires of need simultaneously as it ran down his throat like a river of warm silk, stroking him in places that nothing else ever could, in ways that set his mind swirling and his senses zinging. Restraint was lost in the first few mouthsful, his left leg sliding over Ben\'s and landing with his knee pressed to the boy\'s crotch, his other hand moving up the other side of his neck and sculpting his face before twining reverently in his hair. With gentle force did he hold the boy to him, his large frame pressed firmly against that of the mortal\'s

close... am I too close?  He\'ll think I\'m gonna\' drain him... ah fuck... he\'ll see...

as he hovered above and drew with the pulse of that feverish heart.  The one thing he was aware of was how much he was taking; he was aiming for a third of what Ben could give in total. That shouldn\'t leave him too badly off, and there was the lounge downstairs for replenishing lost energy. He\'d be fine, Kerr would be fine, the entire fucking world would be fine at this rate, with this sweet nectar to sustain it...

[Trillian]

With a small movement forward while Ben sat still with surprise as he knew what was about to happen, the train of events happened quickly yet slowly enough for him to process what was going on.
 
His lips had time to part slightly and he drew sharp breath as Kerr\'s mouth pressed against his neck.  He shifted slightly, moving so that his shoulder would not be in the vampire\'s way - accomodating him.
 
He\'ll bite. Will it hurt? Will I cry out? Will it be painful all the way through? Will I feel sick?  Will I faint?  Will I die?
 
The last thought broke off and spiralled away into the depths of his mind where his biggest fear lurked, so it could poke and prod at it every now and then at the very back.  He hid it with thoughts on top, processing the sensations he was feeling.
 
An arm around him kept him close and halted any movements away he might make.  It was both comforting and threatening.  He felt the tongue stud and at first thought it was a tooth because he was expecting to feel fangs.  It took him a confused moment to realise that it was in Kerr\'s tongue and therefore it could only be metal.  The beginnings of a nuzzling kiss against his neck could be felt and Ben wondered if vampires were considered sexual beings because they did sexual things when they drank or--
 
There was no time to finish that thought before the bite came into play.  There was pain, and it was as sharp as the fangs that bit into him, but then it seemed to fade and he was feeling a bit dazed by everything that was taking place.  Was this what his friends had been talking about?  Did vampires have drugs in their fangs that they injected even while they bit?  If so, it wasn\'t very strong, Ben was completely aware of everything that was happening to him - but now no longer fearful of the unknown.  He\'d been bit, and it hurt, but now it didn\'t.  His heart still raced though, though now it was more akin to going through with something scary - like a fast ride at a theme park.  Oh, but this was more personal, wasn\'t it?
 
To prove the point to his unspoken question, when Kerr moved to place a leg between his, Ben shifted again, spreading his legs a little further so that the weight of Kerr\'s knee could support itself on the bit of cushioned seat rather than upon his thighs.  It had a two fold effect - with his knee right against his crotch, he could feel a pressure there that matched the one at his neck - also a sensitive area.
 
As Kerr drank, Ben could hear small sounds that had to be made by himself rather than Kerr whose mouth was occupied.  Those sounds of sighs and small grunts and groans were the same as when he had sex.  Half-disturbed by this knowledge, he raised a hand and found himself clutching at the back of Kerr\'s shirt.  He didn\'t know if he\'d meant to pull the vampire away but he was actually squeezing the material in a fist in a somewhat rhythmic pattern - to match Kerr\'s swallows?  He thought so, wasn\'t sure.
 
Twitching.  My God am I being aroused?  Strangely, it didn\'t embarrass him for his mind had already moved onto other things.  This must be what was meant by being entranced while being drunk from.  The fact that nothing seemed to bother him - things that ordinarily would.  His other came up to rest on Kerr\'s side, and it travelled up and then down, feeling the cold but warming torso beneath his shirt.  It was a fascinating sensation, just like the feeling of being light-headed.  Was that because of lack of blood?
 
Both hands paused in their movements, and his heart rate seemed to hop a little with that thought.  He felt okay, he really did, he felt better than okay, but his thoughts were rambling, was that a bad sign?  How could he tell though, because his thoughts always rambled?  Was his personality going to be his downfall?
 
He wanted to say something, but released a soft groan instead.  Ah damn, he could feel his full arousal pressing against Kerr\'s leg.  Was this normal?  Would the vampire think he was a freak?  "Normal?" he uttered thickly, wanting to ask if everything was okay.

[Existentially Odd]

Normal?  Huh?

He registered the word but didn\'t feel it was worthy of acknowledgement - not with the conclusion to their rapturous little embrace looming. Just a few more swallows, and he would be content, he would answer anything Ben wished to ask him, he would give him anything he requested, just... in a little bit...

The boy\'s heart was strong, his rhythmic movements intoxicating as he gave, bleeding into the ravenous beast that lashed within Kerr as the carnal act pushed him higher. Harder. He felt invincible, incredible. The smell of Ben, the feel of him clutching beneath his jacket at his fine silk shirt, the heat of him burning through the thin material as if it weren\'t even there, those erotic little grunts of almost bewildered excitement, drove him to distraction, his mouth working the wound beneath his mouth with the strength of a hungry vortex.

His right hand took over where his left had been, curling around to press the young man\'s throat towards him, his left hand running down, feverishly roving across the broad chest, the stomach, squeezing the bulge of his erection a few times, wanting to share the beauty, the incomparable rush of the moment, needing the mortal to have an inkling of just how sweet it was to surrender to the demon of hunger and lose himself in the giving, but come out with the sensation of victory screaming like lightning through his veins afterward. His hands returned to their former positions, Kerr\'s chest brushing lightly against Ben\'s shoulder as he readjusted slightly, his abdomen suspended above his lap, almost like he was holding himself back.

But this was not sexual pleasure for Kerr, this was something far more primal, and his extremities could not hope to portray the inner thrill of the compulsive act he was participating in. He didn\'t wonder at the mortal\'s excitement at all, for he felt it too, in a black, roiling place at his core; he just didn\'t show it.

And then he knew it was time, and he allowed the present to filter slowly into awareness. The boy was still hard against his leg and he allowed a smile at his throat, his lips worshipping the tender flesh gratefully. In a practised move, he bit his own lower lip and pressed the soft, torn skin against the sizeable holes he\'d left there, still stroking with his tongue and lapping up any liquid that escaped during the closing-over process.

His grip on Ben\'s hair loosened, his fingers combing through the tresses a couple of times before lowering to caress his cheek, grip his shoulder. Like a lover, he cradled the boy\'s head, straddling his thigh, muscular body pressed heavily to likewise. He lowered himself gracefully when he was sure there would be no loss of blood from the newly-corrupted vein, skimming his leg languorously across the other\'s firm thigh as he flopped back. His right leg was crooked beneath him, right arm still across the seat back. Kerr\'s thumb gently massaged the place where his mouth had been as his long fingers remained splayed across Ben\'s nape. His head lolled against the round of his shoulder as he watched the blonde, a sexy little grin of complete satisfaction lifting one corner of his mouth.

"Pardon?" he asked thickly, his accent noticeable on the rolling \'r\' as fulfilment pulsed sweetly through him, making him feel as if he were glowing on the inside. No glass of blood - warmed or no - could ever match the sensation of connecting so intimately with the flame of life throbbing through a living creature. His brown eyes were glassy with satisfaction as he watched hrough his lashes for his partner\'s reaction.

[Trillian]

Kerr didn\'t reply, but soon enough his hand was floating down Ben\'s chest and upon the arousal that the youth had been so worried about.  It didn\'t matter if such a thing was normal, did it?  Kerr obviously approved.  The sensation of fingers clutching upon him there while in the middle of that warm numb feeling of giving blood... was strangely and pleasantly erotic.  For Kerr it was more, but Ben could only feel the sexual side, dazed and compliant.  Too soon that hand moved away, and Ben mourned its loss.  How odd that he would be so willing to have this stranger touching him so intimately.  He was usually choosy about who did what with him, and when they were allowed to.  He\'d made his choice with Kerr though, and so the experience was not held back because of prior restrictions.
 
He felt like he was floating for some time before Kerr wound down, settling him with each deliberate action which was a step further to ending their union.  Being held closely helped him to realise that he\'d chosen wisely in Kerr.  Or was that luckily?  He still felt in awe of him, the vampire that had drunk from him, that he\'d let touch him and continue to touch him in ways that he normally shied from.  Quick romances were not his thing, pleasure seeking nights was usually just a dance or two.  He didn\'t like the shallow world of meeting someone, sharing his self and then never seeing them again.
 
He didn\'t intend on tonight being the same way either - but not because he had any romantic interest in Kerr.  He realised that in a way he was selling himself, because all of this was done for an experience, towards an opportunity. He\'d been so scared, so paranoid, his decision to go through with this had ended so well that he hadn\'t dared even dreamt something like this - to be held in the arms of a vampire that seemed to give a shit about how he felt.  He\'d figured a lot of Them would be heartless to mortality, would eventually feel as though humankind were no better than cattle.  Kerr, however, had not lost his humanity.  He was, once, a man.
 
At the prompt, Ben took a moment to respond, his glazed eyes fixed on Kerr as words rose to the occassion.  "I thought it would be intimate but didn\'t know it was like that," he said, and smiled through a blush that crept upon his cheeks.  Kerr liked him, he knew this, and he hoped that this like meant he was attracted to him - the touch upon his now-shrinking erection had been evidence of the face (so Ben hoped).
 
And now, he spoke closer to the real reason why all of this had begun.  Why he\'d listened to his friends about taking the risk.  Why he wanted to get close to one of Them.
 
"Have you ever sired anyone?"
 
The question was blatent.

[Existentially Odd]

Groggily, the elder frowned, not quite able to connect the question with Ben\'s former one, in his stupour. Did \'normal?\' have anything to do with siring someone? Had he missed something? He took a breath and exhaled it in the manner of a sigh, wanting the boy to remain undisturbed by him not breathing. It was an innocent enough request, and there was no reason for Kerr to deny him an answer, when he had given so generously.

"Mmm, yes," he drawled, his euphoric thoughts wishing to stay the hell away from the foul bitches he\'d had a hand in creating.  No, he would not think about them right now. "Once. Never again!" he chuckled, deciding that he should sit up and look a little more interested in his companion. Lethargically, he moved his leg out from under himself, his feet now both planted on the floor, though at vastly different angles. There, that would do for effort, for the time being.

"D\'you feel alright? Not too dizzy? There\'s a section downstairs y\'know... has some sweeties to help pep you up if you\'re feeling a little lightheaded," he offered, the vision of him gallantly carrying the not-so-frail blonde downstairs appearing in his mind\'s eye and causing him great amusement. All that showed on the outside was a smile, however.

[Trillian]

Ben\'s bashful smile faded a little as Kerr told him how it was.
 
"Never?" he repeated, the word sounding flat in his mouth.  He didn\'t like the sound of it, had wished he\'d known of this promise Kerr had made to himself before he\'d taken the plunge.  Oh, he didn\'t regret it, it was good to have this knowledge.  Strike that, it was amazing to have this knowledge.  But it seemed knowing was not the means to an end.  It appeared to be the end itself.  "Never is dangerous, when someone has infinte time to reconsider."
 
He was already trying to talk Kerr around.  He\'d shaken his head at the offer of sweet things to perk up his strength.  Yes, he felt weak and dizzy, but right now he had a very important topic to discuss.

[Existentially Odd]

Ben\'s tone was not what he\'d expected. Kerr had misread the earnestness of it in his previous statement, it seemed; had responded lightly, selfishly. He straightened out of his slouch, rubbing his tongue stud ruminatively along the roof of his mouth as his gaze narrowed on the boy. His hand was removed from the heated flesh quite naturallyas he sat up, though it remained suspended on the soft material of the seat, close to Ben\'s shoulder.

Presumptuous.

His left hand busied itself straightening his Armani suit coat, the tie that had become bunched beneath the lapel. He crossed his legs, feeling more guarded and looking a lot more shrewdly at the youngster. So, he\'d been playing a game, had he? Kerr felt somewhat betrayed, having fallen for the nervous virgin act when all along it seemed that there\'d been a hidden agenda. He wished to be embraced, was that it?

"What is more dangerous, is that forever is an even longer time to regret," he countered softly, not giving away his thoughts. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted to hear that Ben had had an enjoyable a time as he had, that perhaps the mortal wished to meet up again in the near future and repeat it, because the thrill had been so great. Kerr didn\'t want to hear arguments and pleas.  Not from ignorant lips.

[Trillian]

His thoughts spiralled again as he realised the fire he was playing with. Kerr\'s body language was as obvious as Ben\'s initial question and statement, and warning signals went off in his mind, alerting him that he would have to tread lightly.
 
They kept Their secret guarded closely. He\'d discovered this much while pouring over texts in the library and on the internet. Very few vampires sired others. Apparently most preferred not to pass on Their immortality, to share Their time and Their gift with others. They were selective when They did choose. Physical attraction was usually a selling point. Mental stability certainly high on the list.
 
Ben was a Follower, but he was also a Preparer. He made thoughtful and careful decisions and weighed each risk. That didn\'t mean his bravery wasn\'t fraught with fear and indecision when faced with the task itself - when he\'d first stepped into Risk for instance, when he\'d been the innocent. It had not been an act - but the accusation was left unspoken, and therefore the defense would not be heard.
 
As Kerr\'s eyes narrowed and he pulled away - though subtly - Ben shook his head and lifted his shoulders slightly. "What would I know?" he said softly, his light blue eyes staring intently at Kerr\'s deep brown. "I\'m nineteen years old. So far nothing I\'ve done is regretful."
 
Including the present moment, he wanted to add, but didn\'t. Likely Kerr would make the connection on his own, he didn\'t need Ben to spell it out for him. What they\'d shared was not something Ben hadn\'t wanted. This much was truth, regardless of how it had ended.
 
"But I don\'t see myself doing this again with someone else."
 
So he did have something to add. He knew that he was unlikely to be sired after a single night. He was, after all, asking for forever. Kerr was the closest he\'d come to a being he\'d merely read about - and even if things progressed slowly, Ben hoped that he could at least know more about Kerr for the vampire seemed willing to talk (about certain subjects, if not others). First hand recounting was far more fascinating than reading supposition in a book written by someone who\'d done their own research and formed opinions and theories.

[Existentially Odd]

"Well that\'s very flattering," Kerr said, the smile not quite reaching his eyes any more, "but I don\'t expect - nor offer - any sort of committment. I\'m sure that when you realise I won\'t give you what you want, you\'ll... seek out someone else."

Tell me you don\'t wish to be embraced, go on.  Tell me I\'m wrong.  Lie to me... see what I\'ll believe.

It deeply disappointed him that the evening - which had gone so swimmingly up to now - would have to end on such a sour note. He could still be wrong, of course, but Ben had more or less told him that he didn\'t regret anything thus far in his ridiculously short life (even while acknowledging that he understood exactly how short that life still was) and seemed intent on forcing him to rethink his decision to not ever sire anyone again. It didn\'t take a genius to put the two together and come up with the correct answer.

Part of Kerr thought that it might be a good idea to simply read the mortal\'s thoughts, so that he didn\'t have to endure any more game playing. But mostly he just didn\'t want to know. He didn\'t care. The entire concept made him too nervous; this was definitely his most vulnerable area and to have it attacked while he was still floating out of the blissfully satisfying headspace he\'d entered whilst feeding, was the cruellest act of all.

Not that Ben could know that. Of course he couldn\'t. Unless he knew Sawyl... and this was a far more elaborate scheme than he\'d anticipated? His lips pursed as he took the matter into consideration, his hands once again on the move, straightening his clothes and fretting at his tie, loosening then tightening it. He certainly couldn\'t dismiss the idea as ridiculous, because he knew some of the wild things his beloved got up to. He\'d convinced Kerr all those years ago to help him sire his mothers, hadn\'t he?

"Just what is it that you expect of me?" he asked testily, looking straight back into the blue eyes across from him. His nerves were already getting the better of him, making him speak so rudely when it was certainly not his usual manner.  He felt his statement a singular sort of entity, aware that it had burst from him, unattached to his previous gentle deterrents.  He was ashamed of himself, unused to confrontation; his gaze lowered after just a few moments, staring at the candle a short distance away, his tongue working again inside his mouth.

[Trillian]

As Kerr continued to explain that he was offering nothing, and that he expected Ben to find an offer elsewhere, he found he could still look the vampire in the eye and utter: "Maybe."
 
His mind was still whirling. It was hard to come up with a sensible argument when he was feeling so... drained - for lack of a better word, or was that the best word? It probably was. He stared at Kerr, knowing there was no guarantees he would get a different answer from anybody else either. He didn\'t need to be sired tonight, was probably afraid to be, in any case, but Kerr was looking at him like he\'d already asked, like he wanted that and nothing more, like he\'d tricked Kerr somehow. It was laughable really, to think that the vampire mistrusted him, when Kerr was one of Them, and could do anything he liked.
 
When the question was snapped at him, Ben hadn\'t been expecting it, so blinked a couple of times as he flinched back and lowered his eyes to his hands, that lay resting on his lap, blushing fiercely. It was a question that he answered though; promptly, emotionally.
 
"You\'ve done more than I expected already," he admitted. "It was nice, it was intimate, it had a happy ending." He was alive, after all. "When I came here I meant for this to happen, so I got what I wanted. But I\'m not here to get myself off on it, though now I understand why others do." His friends would no longer be revered for doing what they did. "I just wanted to know. I\'ve always wanted to know, everything about Them. I\'ve read books, watched movies, been some kind of weirdo fan, I suppose." He frowned now, and lifted his gaze to Kerr\'s shirt, too embarrassed to look up into the vampire\'s eyes. "I\'d be lying if I said I didn\'t want to be a part of it. I mean, who doesn\'t want to live forever?" Now he looked up at Kerr, expecting to be yelled at again, his expression betraying this new fear. "But it\'s knowledge I came here for, tonight.  Not anything else."

[Existentially Odd]

Again Ben had used the word \'them\', like it meant something. Something to be revered, no doubt. A word that had become an entity unto itself in the mortal\'s mind, if he was as intrigued by it all as his tone and carefully-chosen words indicated that he was. Weirdo fan, indeed. Kerr found his stern front melting when he was offered an answer that seemed more than sincere, and his gaze lifted from the candle and went to the boy\'s.

The vampire was obviously too mixed up in his own dramas at the moment, to be thinking straight. First Sawyl had gone for a week, leaving him to deal with the freaks alone, then he\'d met Mandy and Wyl had come back... it made for a confusing state of being. Especially considering he\'d never been one to get himself in the mix. Now here he was with a pliant young man who obviously had no real experience behind him to enable him to make a smart decision - who was, nevertheless, kind enough to offer his blood - and all he\'d been after was an encounter that was out of the ordinary. Some exclusive knowledge. Siring was certainly part of the folklore, part of the vampire phenomenon. Maybe he was just being overly defensive, and it wasn\'t Ben\'s fault. It was his own bad experiences that were causing him to shut Ben\'s harmless questions down.

He\'d treated him harshly, and he regretted that; it was not particularly noble of him. He sidled closer to the young man and placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder, feeling almost as awkward with the physical contact now as he\'d been relaxed with it during the feeding. He had to admit, he didn\'t like the way the hunger changed him.

"I apologise for leaping to conclusions," he told the blonde quietly.  "In truth, you\'ve broached my demons and I didn\'t mean to be so harsh. To... enlighten you... I," his gaze fell again as he chose his words carefully, feeling that he should explain and overcome the nastiness of his earlier words. But he fucking didn\'t want to. It was like a physical ache he needed to overcome; a dull, throbbing cyst deep within his gut that needed to be negotiated around, to speak of them.

"I sired another, once.  As a favour to my sire. It... wasn\'t a pleasant experience and it continues to be so, to this day. The process... changed them. Well, I don\'t know for sure what they were like before, because I barely knew them and the event of my embrace happened just a few nights prior - a week or so, I think - but I\'ve always felt the burden of it. Literally and spiritually. I regret it and I don\'t like to talk about that. Anything else I can share with you, however, I\'d be happy to," he offered, meeting Ben\'s gaze frankly. It didn\'t occur to him that the mixing of his pronouns could cause the boy confusion... sired another...changed them... it was hard to define the twins as a single or double being, anyway.  He doubted the mortal would need any more explanation than he\'d offered; he certainly felt it enough.

He suddenly felt like the moon emerging from the constraints of thick black clouds. Once past the ugly admission of his greatest mistake, he found it easier to talk, to consider all the things he coud say. He\'d never had the opportunity to share what he was with a mortal before, not openly. It could be a welcome experience - and good practise for when he told Mandy. If he told her. He took his hand off Ben\'s shoulder, so that he would feel free to relax again and ask anything he wished to.

[Trillian]

Ben was heartened by Kerr\'s softening. A hint of a smile touched his lips and he allowed it to grow when his shoulder was touched. He felt at ease with Kerr, unlike the vampire\'s sudden awkwardness, Ben relaxed more so because of what they had shared. He had nothing else but sexual overtones to compare it to. To him, what they\'d shared was much like kissing, more intimate than making out, yet not as complete as the act itself. It was like... third base.
 
He listened to Kerr\'s words like the world would end if he missed anything. Every piece of information was crucial, no matter how vague. He didn\'t catch the mixture of plural, for when Kerr had said \'them\' he\'d inserted vampire-kind in his mind. It was not \'them\' but Them to him, and he\'d made the exchange into singular anyway.
 
"So you made a mistake that you\'re still paying for," Ben said sadly. "I\'m sorry I brought it up." This apology was genuine. "How about when you were sired? Can you talk about that? What it was like?"
 
This kind of information was not what he\'d be able to find in a book. He could only hope Kerr would relive that moment for him in words.
 
In the back of his mind he was wondering who that sire was, if he or she was still around, if they were still with Kerr, if Kerr would introduce them, if Kerr\'s sire would like him, if Kerr could be influenced by his sire - and it sounded like he was.

[Existentially Odd]

"When I was sired," he stated numbly, knowing that he could talk about that, but not entirely sure he would want to.  But the mortal looked so interested and he had been rather mean to him.  He supposed it was the least he could do.

Kerr\'s gaze shifted away from the eager stare and up to the left corner of the ceiling, as he attempted to recall the events leading up to his embrace. Things... memories... that he hadn\'t contemplated in so long that they were hard to find - even harder to bring to the surface - came to him... but slowly. It took him a full five minutes to get everything in order, to figure out how to lay it out. To decide how best to tell his tale; which he\'d never shared with anyone. Not even those who\'d been a part of it, really.

He didn\'t pay any attention to what Ben did in all that time, though he may have fidgeted or spoken when he began to think that he would get no story; Kerr paid him no mind until he was ready to begin. And when he looked back, those blue eyes were as bright and keen as they had been when he\'d first begun selecting and constructing his thoughts into a coherent order. So he simply began, his voice sombre in tone and thick with the Irish accent he\'d begun to lose a century ago, when he\'d said goodbye to his homeland more permanently.

"I was born on the first day of the new year, sixteen hundred and six, the only son of Donahue and Bridget Galvin. They were... umpteenth generation Irish, noble and proud that their line had resisted Viking and Norman invasions... mainly because their lands were too out of the way to be noticed. Oh, they were just grand for the sheep we ran, the flax we grew, there in our home of Killarney, but really we were just lucky that we never became a target for invasion," he drawled, his gaze falling on the candle once more, teeth biting at his stud for a few moments. He then waved a dismissive hand, as if casting this information aside.

"We were what you might call nobles; employing people to work the land, fairly safe in our situation.  We weren\'t the only well to do family in the area, but we were respected. I remember my father as a good businessman; he could talk anyone around, whether they were intent on trouble or making a deal. He had a loud, contagious laugh and the annoying habit of smacking people hard on the shoulder when he\'d had too much to drink," Kerr said, his lips twisting into a fond smile as he recalled this fact. It was really all he could remember, after so long.  With a shake of his head, he then looked at Ben once more, his expression growing troubled.

"I was born at the time that England began to stake her claim on our country and there was dissent while I grew up... but the political stuff didn\'t touch our hearts nearly as much as the frequent deaths did. For as long as anyone could remember, people died mysteriously in our village. Young, old, pretty, ugly... it didn\'t much matter. There was no rhyme nor reason to it, just one day you\'d wake up and there\'d be a corpse by a roadside or something. There were talks of curses and unGodliness of course; but the source was far more tangible and a lot nastier. Angus Sully. He was the most foul, evil son of a bitch that ever walked this earth, and an immortal. Not that anybody knew that then. He did some truly foul things in his time - and to this day I have no idea how long that time even was.  I only know when it ended, because I helped do it."

His jaw had a visible tightness to it as it lifted and he looked down his aquiline nose at the mortal, as if expecting retribution. Or perhaps a question; but he didn\'t give the other the chance to ask one.

"In 1612," he began, then faltered.

No, don\'t talk about them, he asked about your siring, what it was like.

"Uh... I meant in 1626," he corrected, offering an apologetic smile as his gaze slipped briefly to the couch that he\'d suddenly gripped. He forced his fingers to uncurl and looked back at Ben, his composure slightly shaken but his determination apparent, "a child by the name of Sawyl Loman was born." At the mere mention of his name, Kerr\'s face lit up in a smile, his eyes glistening with pride and a love that he couldn\'t hide. Such was the way whenever he thought of his beloved, his sire.

"He was small and beautiful and as much the darling of the village as his family was reviled. Possibly he was loved so much because he\'d come from some enormous trouble and scandal - though it wasn\'t his fault how and what he was born to," the vampire added hastily, defensively. "Anyway, when he was eleven, he still had the look of a chubby, happy eight year old. Truly, he looked an angel. Angus Sully coveted that beauty, that innocence, and he took him one night and locked Wyl in his home. It was a fortress, would never have been penetrable - had anyone even known. The countryside was scoured for a week, but no sign of the bairn was found. The child\'s family were distraught, mothers in the region began keeping their children in their bedrooms, fathers began carrying weapons and talking of revenge. But no-one knew against what... and it had always happened. Nobody said it, but everyone knew that soon they\'d find him, white as a ghost and twice as dead, behind a barn or floating in one of the lakes... with no explanation, just like all the rest had been found. Except this time... we never did."

Kerr\'s deep brown gaze became pained as he relived the horror of the situation. No wonder he\'d pushed this story from his memory...

"Unspeakable things were done to the child in that tower; sordid, horrible acts. And then Angus decided to sire the child and curse him to remain forever at his side. Forever to be tortured. But Sawyl was as cunning as he was terrified by that stage. It took him a year, but he eventually convinced Angus that they would need some help or... some money or... something," he frowned and shook his head, indicating that he had never got the full story out of Sawyl but that he didn\'t feel it really mattered. "Whatever it was and for whatever reason, Sawyl chose me. Might have been for my lands, my money... or maybe just because I came from a trusted name, had a good relationship with everyone in the village. Had good connections. Whatever it was, Sawyl came to me and lured me to that demon\'s home. He didn\'t tell me his full plan - he was too small, you see, too small to drink and make me on his own. He needed Angus\' help to make me; and then he needed my help to kill Angus."

His face fell into a troubled scowl then, as that walk through the misty rain, in the pitch black of that long lost night came back to him. He couldn\'t remember enough of it; couldn\'t recall what Wyl had said to get him to the keep in the first place, what Angus had said in greeting; nor even how it all transpired. Ben would no doubt be unhappy with this, but it was the truth. He looked apologetically at the mortal.

"I\'m sorry, but I don\'t really remember how it all went. Just that it was fast; I walked in and then Sawyl was upon me, at my neck. I... fell down. There in the entranceway, I believe. It was... fast, because I was scared. It was like someone was playing a fyfe right in my ears... it was loud and dizzying. I know being drunk from can be beautiful, but it wasn\'t for me. My heart was racing so hard and Sawyl had fasted specially for it, that he took everything he could accept, as fast as was possible. I\'ve since learned that it was because it was so fast, that it hurt so badly. Well, I went into shock and I passed out. Not very exciting, eh? I recall that I woke up drinking - it tasted horrible, I tried not to, but I was forced onto Sawyl\'s wrist by Angus, until I\'d got most of it back and in me - and then I passed out again. When next I rose, I was dying and... ohhhhh fuck I remember that... hurt!" he chuckled, giving Ben a wry grin as a finger pointing downwards at the blue velvet of the seat emphasised his final two words.

The jocular tone and the smile faded as his thoughts turned inward again. The frown returned and he stared moodily at the candle. "Dying hurt. I remember that. But... it passed," he finished softly, and said no more as he stared into the flickering light... and the past.

[Trillian]

Before the tale was woven, Ben patiently sat - shifting in his seat only when he thought the story wouldn\'t come, but seeing that Kerr was thinking he gathered that the other was figuring out how best to approach the subject, so Ben remained quiet.
 
The history given him was a pleasant surprise, he\'d thought Kerr would begin with a brief description of his sire and then launch into how he\'d been turned. What Ben got was far better than an extract - it had been Kerr\'s life. And subsequent death.
 
When Kerr tripped over the year, recognition of a secret kept flickered behind Ben\'s eyes. He wouldn\'t press him for it, the story he was being told was in such detail he didn\'t want to ruin it - but he imprinted that date into his memory. 1612.
 
A child vampire! Books had stated such things were a travesty, others still declared this to be an impossibility. Of course it was possible, Ben had made a connection right away that if an adult could be sired, why not a child? Though he understood why such a thing was immoral.
 
Then the act itself was described, and it was obviously a bad experience. A shame that Kerr could not know what Ben knew about being drunk from. He wouldn\'t understand the lust behind it, the personal quality to it. As Ben had been kissed, Kerr had been raped.
 
By the time Kerr\'s story came to a pause, Ben\'s lightheadedness was completely gone. The concentration had somehow helped him, but he would find out it was merely a mental effect and that his balance would not be quite so controllable once he stood up.  For now, he shot questions at Kerr like a machine gun.
 
"What happened then? Did they teach you? How long did you spend with them?"
 
How did Angus get killed?
 
He held back on that one.

[Existentially Odd]

"Them..." Kerr murmured, remaining in his trance-like pose. "Sawyl did. Angus didn\'t have much to do with me at all - except to laugh at my disgust when he brought people for me to eat. They were people I knew! I couldn\'t do that to them!" he cried, his horrified expression swinging back to Ben\'s. "He taught me, though. He taught me to hate, to understand that I could kill - I\'d never killed anything until then, not even a sheep, my father always did it. But when he killed my mother I felt it; a rage so strong and powerful that I wanted to tear him limb from limb."

Kerr\'s upper lip was curled, he spoke through clenched teeth, the power of that hatred and burning desire to hurt and maim in revenge able to transcend clearly the centuries since the events he was describing had transpired.

"I knew what he\'d done to the boy - Wyl had told me everything in an effort to have me help him kill his tormentor - but it had only filled me with revulsion and a horror so great I was weak. I was weak. New to being a vampire, hating myself for it; hating them for doing it to me. I\'d been a good Catholic lad, held faith in the Lord and always been thankful for the blessings me and my family received. Then, without my consent, I was never able to walk in the sunlight again, never able to set foot on holy ground, spurned by all that was good and embraced by the most..." he halted in his rapid speech, stumped by the lack of a descriptive enough adjective to convey his utter loathing of the beast that had taken him, the beast he\'d become. His hand flapped as his mind searched, but it didn\'t help. He simply couldn\'t express how fundamentally wrong everything had been to him, "evil, horrible, dark, rank things that I\'d ever heard of.  And I was one of them!"

A fist pounded his chest as he sat forward, eyes wide, all the better to glare at the mortal with. He let the statement hang and eventually sat back, shaking his head. He thought to look at his watch then, and realised with a start that he\'d done far too much talking; it was after seven thirty and he\'d promised Mandy he\'d meet her at her apartment around eight. He\'d just have to stop pontificating and get on with it.

"Well anyway; I was Sawyl\'s toy and he told me everything about what I was, how it would be, how Angus had treated him. Suffice to say that I was crippled by my horror - of them and myself - that I survived on animal blood alone and half hoped that someone would find me and kill me before I could become what they were.  I didn\'t blame Sawyl, it wasn\'t his fault, was it?  He had become what he was shaped to be. No, it was all that hideous, scaly-skinned beast Angus Sully\'s fault. He was a despicable creature - and so ugly! Long, clawed fingers, red eyes, bat-like face," Kerr intoned critically, mouth twisted and a mock shiver running through him to add to the effect as his own shapely hands moved eloquently around his pleasant features in vague, molding gestures.

"I was locked in with Sawyl - who could come and go, but I was too weak and confused to attempt to get out - for about a month. Maybe two. I learned everything I didn\'t want to know in that time, especially how desperate the angel was to get back to his family.  I sympathised... no, I empathised, but I was a wreck, I didn\'t see how it could be done. Angus dragged me out of the tower room occasionally, to tempt me to feed on live victims and make me watch them feed - he and Wyl - but all I did was cringe and cry and call for God throughout the whole ordeal, so Angus grew very angry with me. He wanted to teach me a lesson, force me to \'let go of worldly ties\', he called it," the vampire imparted, his tone as mocking as that of a child bully taunting one much smaller and more cowardly. "So he grabbed my mam, and killed her before me - after she understood the full horror of what her only child had become and it was as torturous as it could possibly be for everyone, of course. And while he fed on her, thinking I was still whimpering in the corner as I usually did, I grabbed an axe and separated his head from his body. It was... cathartic," the elder intoned sweetly, a smile at last touching his lips.

"Sawyl put his head on the lawn on one side of the house, I dragged his body to the other and when the sun rose, it disintegrated. The next night I... took my mother\'s body home and... I t-told my ffather..." his throat worked as he was unexpectedly taken by the power of these memories. He hadn\'t anticipated that it would still be able to effect him so strongly, when everything else was like the blur of an eight millimetre film shot in poor lighting and shown on a reel that had a bump in it; disconnected and scratchy. His gaze left Ben\'s and he stared just below his cheekbone instead, unable to share that, either. He forced a smile, though he supposed it was obvious that he didn\'t feel it, that he wasn\'t actually looking at anything, his eyes were focussed on long-dead events. "I shouldn\'t have done that; told him. It was too much for him to bear. It killed him, eventually. So then all I had was Sawyl," he finished with a distracted shrug, still looking dazedly at the young man\'s fresh pores and thinking of everything else that he could say, but wouldn\'t.

[Trillian]

Halfway through the second part of Kerr\'s dramatic tale, Ben\'s lips parted. He remained that way, looking both awed and horrified for Kerr\'s sake. No wonder the vampire wasn\'t keen on siring anyone.
 
But he\'d said never again, which meant he\'d done it once, and they were still with him, making his life miserable. Is that what he feared, another mistake? It all seemed very complicated. Should Ben be successful in his eventual siring, wouldn\'t that mean he would be a part of this nasty web? The child vampire - Sawyl - sounded... intimidating. No doubt he\'d always be underestimated.
 
When Kerr finished, Ben shut his mouth with a snapping together of teeth, and a frown touched his brows. He was thoughtful for a moment while most of it sank in, though it seemed such a dark and weary tale. And there was even more that Kerr wished not to discuss. 1612.
 
"I can\'t even begin to understand what you went through," he acknowledged. "You\'re so very strong to have survived it." There had always been respect in Ben\'s tone for Kerr, but now it had returned in strong waves. Ben was in awe, as though Kerr had switched on a light and tried to explain electricity to someone from the roman empire. There was a detachment Ben felt from it all that he knew was entirely personal to Kerr, and even though he\'d seen glimmers of that emotion surfacing in Kerr\'s face and words, he was struck by how well Kerr was recounting it.
 
Was it time that had given him strength? He found that there were very few questions that felt appropriate being asked. He remembered the glance at the watch and the hurried words after it before Kerr got back into his storytelling rhythm.
 
"If you have to be somewhere," he began, but didn\'t finish it. His cool blue eyes searched Kerr\'s face for a clue before he pursued the course he intended on taking. "If you have to go now, I\'d like to see you again." This was said in a manner that was both bashful and demanding. A strange combination to be sure, because Ben was feeling odd about asking though he felt it most necessary to voice his request. "I\'d rather not meet here, though," he added, as if Kerr had already said yes.

[Existentially Odd]

Strong to have survived it? He\'d certainly never seen himself in such a light. Physically strong, yes, but Ben was referring to an emotional and spiritual strength that he simply couldn\'t agree to. His world had fallen apart, he\'d fucked it over little by little even after he\'d got out of that hell house... and he\'d survived. Got through it. He hadn\'t exactly come out the other side of it with a spring in his step and a song to greet every new night, though. He\'d made decisions, put one foot in front of the other and moved on. He wasn\'t strong, he just was; Sawyl and the twins were his responsibility - fate had sealed that deal even before he\'d agreed to it - and there was always some new place to consider, something else to overcome, as part of his role. He was head of the household, protector of his fold; he\'d never given his state of being a whole lot of thought. Odd, that someone who barely knew him would, but he supposed it was all a matter of perspective.

Disappointment filled him at the mortal\'s final words.  Not meeting him here - which he\'d begun to hope, through his sharing, would happen again - meant that he likely wouldn\'t be permitted to drink from Ben any more.  Certainly the exact opposite of his hopes, but he didn\'t let it show, offering a small, apologetic smile as he looked at those bright blue eyes once more.

"I do have to go, actually. I have a... date," he\'d floundered over the word, but decided fairly quickly that that was what it indeed was. The word had been used the night before, there was no use denying the fact, or the astonished pleasure with which it filled him. "I promised I\'d be there at eight and... well, the time\'s got away from us." He chuckled as he got to his feet, not addressing Ben\'s latter comments.

Selfishly, he felt that he\'d shared quite a bit with the mortal but if he didn\'t want to meet at Risk again, he was more or less putting a stop to any further exchanges - of information and blood - that might be made. Why would he agree to meet him elsewhere just to give away more of the history he didn\'t care to connect with, and receive nothing in return? He had enough on his schedule lately, without arranging meetings akin to therapy.

Still, he watched the boy closely from his standing position, ready to catch him when he got to his feet - if he was as unsteady as Kerr suspected he would be. He looked quite pale, and Kerr had already worked the walking of the mortal downstairs for some refreshments into his schedule. He wasn\'t that ungentlemanly.

[Trillian]

Ben realised there was no presence of promise, and the lack of acknowledgement about meeting once again was distinct. Disappointment was shared between Ben and Kerr but for different reasons. Ben didn\'t like the club scene, the fact that it made him feel cheap, that the curtain-walled room was something out of a tacky bourdois (in his opinion). He didn\'t want to give himself away to others, and he had no real power here. If a vampire wanted him, they were likely to have him. Avoiding eye contact would only get him so far. It was dangerous for a mortal inside this club, but it seemed not to matter to Kerr, who perhaps disbelieved his earlier statement of not wishing to be shared. Ben misread the disappointment as dismissal, that he\'d been humoured.
 
Oh, he was grateful, and Kerr was his peer, set upon a pedestal, but Ben also felt like the child who asked their baseball hero to sign a ball and was told to buzz off, kid, not when I\'m busy. The story had been the Big Game, the outpouring was a Home Run. Inside his head, an imaginery crowd cheered. Why was it not good enough? Such contradictions, his mind was whirling.
 
"Alright," he said quietly, turning his head so he didn\'t have to look at Kerr anymore. He stood up, realising that he\'d been set aside as a toy that was no longer any fun. He swayed a little as his balance was a bit difficult to regain, still looking away from Kerr. Payment had been given him for his blood in a form of a story, and storytime was now over boys and girls, time for a nap.
 
He stumbled, threw out a hand to catch the table to steady himself and to his horror he clutched at air. His hand caught the edge of the chair upon which he\'d sat on the way down, but couldn\'t stop his fall.  Getting up too soon had made him dizzy. He\'d underestimated what the loss of blood and no replenishing sugar would do to his body.  He would no doubt be finding himself sprawled upon the floor in humiliation.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr stepped in calmly and snagged Ben\'s flailing arm, his hand gaining a firm grip on the plummetting bicep before he got close enough to wrap an arm around his waist and more firmly support him. It happened fast enough that he was pretty sure the blonde\'s nether regions didn\'t get a chance to contact the couch again, let alone the floor he was vaguely heading for. He worked the mortal\'s arm around his shoulders, giving the shorter man a concerned look as he hauled him into a more upright position, hefting his weight very easily.
 
"I told you you should have some food," he chastised gently, marching him out through the curtain and pausing in the corridor beyond it. He hadn\'t ever had cause to visit the mortal replenishment room but he was pretty certain... he spied a staircase leading downwards, more or less beneath the first section of the stairs that led upwards. That had to be it.

He walked his new charge - well, carried was a more accurate assessment, but he did it slowly enough that the man wouldn\'t feel he was being totally supported and thereby humiliated - to the unmarked landing, surprised by the very \'basement\' look to the stairs. They were neatly decorated, but there was no bannister and descended into relative darkness. Kerr was glad, for Ben\'s sake, that there was no-one in the corridor, nor in the plush area downstairs when they got there. It was a mutely lit, comfortable room, strewn with large three seater couches and a few large refrigerators against the wall. The flourescent tubes in the electric monsters shed most of the light on the room, in fact, and advertised their contents. There were soft drinks, milk drinks and juices in one, cookies and chocolates and cakes in another and the third - situated the closest to a kitchen style bench that boasted a microwave and squatted in the corner - held microwaveable fast foods like hot dogs and burritoes.

Kerr walked Ben to a sofa that had a good view of the refrigerated soldiers, settling him with a concerned look. "What can I get for you?" he asked, pressing his hands together nervously and watching the mortal for clues. It disturbed him that he wouldn\'t meet his eyes any more, though the niggle of noticing that was secondary to his discomfort over choosing food for the one he\'d fed from.

[Trillian]

When he was caught his cheeks burned with embarrassment, which he guessed was secondary only to the humiliation he would have felt if he\'d actually connected with the floor itself.  Strangely - and against his own wishes, he thought - he was pleased he\'d been caught and held in Kerr\'s arms, placed upright and looked after.  This acknowledgement of his own neediness disgusted him, and he tried his best not to think about it, almost pulling away but held fast by the vampire\'s arm.
 
Being ushered to the basement area below Risk left him feeling strangely as though he was a wayward child on the way to punishment.  He knew the reason for coming down here was for food, and wasn\'t surprised by the sprawl of goodies that awaited him for no cost (for it had been described to him by someone who had been here before him).  He couldn\'t shake the feeling that Kerr wasn\'t impressed with him, however, and so he averted his gaze, finding things to distract him as they walked.
 
"Juice," he said with a shrug, as though he\'d not really made up his mind.  He knew he really should get some sugar into him, but had no appetite.  There was no please or thank you, just a sullen silence that paired with an expressionless gaze that burned a hole into the floor.

[Existentially Odd]

Glad to be of help, Kerr whirled on the appropriate fridge and observed the beverages through the glass door, his hand on the cool metal bar that comprised the handle, ready to fling it open and grasp a juice... damn. There were lots of flavours.

"Uh... orange, orange and mango, apple and raspberry, blackcurrant or..." he was doing his best at impersonating a mortal\'s I-can\'t-see-everything-so-I\'ll-just-bob-up-and-down-\'til-I\'ve-figured-it-all-out refrigerator dance, without being aware of what that was. He just thought that opening the door before he knew what he was going to withdraw was impolite and not very fuel efficient.  "What the fuck... does that... say... oh, pine orange! Pine orange?" he exclaimed, turning to grin triumphantly at Ben... who was glaring at the carpet. If it weren\'t for his supernaturally enhanced hearing, Kerr doubted he would even have heard the petulantly muttered, "Apple and raspberry," that he got for an answer.

Mollified, the vampire extracted the requested bottle of liquid and allowed the door to fall closed naturally as he went and perched on the edge of the couch occupied by Ben, his body turned to face him as much as was possible. He was only more disheartened when the boy took the proffered drink with barely a smile and a glance that might have reached his tie - though Kerr couldn\'t be sure - then opened it, taking an obedient sip.  It felt like... it looked like... he was drinking only so that the vampire could see him taking in sustenance, and leave him alone.

He would liked to have blamed Ben\'s apathy on blood loss alone, but he was pretty sure it had, in fact, coincided with his neat ignoring of Ben\'s declaration that he wanted to see Kerr again, but not here. The more he thought about, watching the mortal take timid little sips of the juice and stare broodily at the carpet, the more this theory seemed accurate. He would have to address it; the urge to smoothe things over was more a way of life than a hobby for him.

"Look, Ben I..." he paused to clear his throat, staring awkardly at the boy\'s stony profile and wondering just how he was going to phrase himself. "I can\'t lie to you," he then admitted, his attitude crestfallen. "I enjoyed you, and I\'m very grateful that you allowed me to... drink from you. I\'m... sorry that you don\'t want it to happen again. Very sorry, though... I do understand it. I guess. But that\'s why I didn\'t say anything when you said... you wanted to meet again. It would be hard for me to just talk with you after... this. But... I guess I could do it," he finished softly.

His own gaze had fallen to stare at the juice in the mortal\'s hands, as he tried to tell himself that he definitely could meet for a chat. Just a chat. Even though Ben would want to know more and more, and it would only get uncomfortable... he\'d have to face talking about the twins and listen to Ben talk about being sired without anything in return but... he had the time. He supposed. He shifted around uncomfortably, trying to put the eventuality of the siring discussion from his mind, frowning as he listened for the mortal\'s response.

[Trillian]

Ben looked up as Kerr began his fumbled comments, and so the mortal came to understand that there had been a misinterpretation of what was on offer.  Ben had not meant to deny Kerr further, he\'d simply not wanted to place himself somewhere that could be misconstrued as available to anyone.
 
As Kerr made his own half-apology and attempting to conform to Ben\'s wishes, it made Ben realise just how lucky he was to have chanced upon this particular vampire.  He still possessed humanity.  Ben understood that this was not always a guarantee when it came to those who were changed by vampirism.  Especially when they had history under their belt.  It would be easier to think of mortals as lesser - especially when they were used to slake an undeniable thirst.
 
His clear blue eyes searched Kerr\'s and he shook his head.  "It\'s only Risk I object to," he said quietly, and this seemed to sum up everything.  He wasn\'t a being of many words, but so there would be no more misunderstandings, he clarified himself further.  "I\'ve already shared with you, and it wasn\'t unpleasant.  I feel... " he was lost for words on that one, so attacked the sentence from a different side.  "I don\'t want to share myself around, and that would be difficult if we continued to meet here.  I don\'t mind offering... the same... again."  Here he blushed.  "I\'d just prefer it to be in a nicer location, you know?"
 
He pressed his lips together and wanted to stare at the drink in his hands, but he couldn\'t pull his gaze away from Kerr.  He was fixated on him, in more ways than one.

[Existentially Odd]

"Oh," the vampire said dumbly, and then again, with more obvious understanding, "Oh!"  His expression brightened into a gentle smile and he felt much calmer as he stared into the intense blue eyes.  He would be able to gain some live sustenance again - and with a lot less effort than he\'d previously had to expend - he simply had to come up with a better meeting location. Quickly.

"Would you like to meet at your home, then?" he enquired politely, willing to go to the greater effort... and do everything in his power from meeting somewhere sordid, or at his home. Ben would no doubt like that, but Kerr felt it was a horrible idea. Still, he knew that he\'d taken too much time dallying as it was, so he was more or less ready to agree to anything at that moment.

He purposefully didn\'t bother entertaining thoughts about what Ben would expect from him in exchange for his blood. Kerr knew it would no doubt involve more information, and as long as Ben wasn\'t sharing it with anyone else - he made a mental note to mention that point before he left - he supposed it wasn\'t too disturbing to tell his stories. It was... almost nice to be someone\'s interest in that respect.

[Trillian]

Ben\'s eyes lit up as soon as Kerr\'s second \'oh\' was formed, because it had an uplifting tone to it and he felt that the sound of the word was extremely positive.  He was correct in this observation, for soon it was offered to him that they would meet again.  It was obvious now that communication between them had misfired at some point, but because it was fixed Ben could forget it even happened.
 
"Uh," he thought about his home, "I live in a share-house with three other people," he explained.  "It keeps the rent down, but there\'s no... privacy."  He hadn\'t wanted to live in a shabby apartment, but the only way he could afford a nice place was to find someone who was willing to take him in to cut down their own rent.  "Is... your place okay?"
 
He was hopeful, though would\'ve accepted a private public place if suggested.  Thing was, he was keen on meeting Sawyl - a part of Kerr\'s history - and hoping to get another side of an intimate story, so that he would know so much more of the vampire\'s trials of their unlife.  A tale from the lips of a child vampire would be... priceless, to Ben.  He gazed at Kerr with eager eyes.

[Existentially Odd]

Stupidly, he still felt his face falling and a ball of discomfort settling heavily in his stomach as Ben\'s words were spoken - and he\'d been expecting them! He considered as many alternatives as seemed feasible, but none sounded right, despite him having enough money to afford numerous other arrangements. It made sense that Ben come to his residence, but it would be a very difficult thing for Kerr. The mortal wouldn\'t have to know that - in fact, it would be his mission to have him never learn the limits of mental fire he would endure from his over-interested charges - but the vampire only hoped that he\'d be able to carry it off. And that the heathens wouldn\'t wriggle their way out of their rooms as soon as the mortal got through the front doorway.

He realised his gaze had fallen in his consternation, and he made a concerted effort to sit up, moving his shoulders back and offering as reassuring a smile as he was capable. "Sure; as long as you promise not to wander around too much," he joked, realising belatedly that he meant it too much for the humour to sound complete.

Perish the thought.

Feeling he needed to clarify that, he held his hand out as if to halt any untoward thoughts flying through the mortal\'s mind. "Oh, I just mean that it... well, it\'s not necessarily safe. You could get... uh... I wouldn\'t want you t-to get hurt."

Or die.  Yep, death would be pretty bad.  Definitely not in the plan.

He cleared his throat, feeling thoroughly awkward. "I live in Chapel Street, on the east side. The house at the end of the cul de sac, number fourteen. It\'s pretty hard to miss. When... when do you think you\'d like to... visit?" He attempted another smile.

[Trillian]

"A week?  Maybe two, I dunno, see how my head feels," Ben supplied, unable to hide the light in his eyes from knowing where the vampire lived (such a dangerous truth for Kerr to share with him!  It proved his trust).  He took another swallow of juice to accentuate his point of feeling weak, and then continued.
 
"I\'ll be a polite houseguest," he promised to Kerr\'s directions not to wander around.  "And I\'ll keep our meetings discreet," he added, wanting Kerr to know that he was right to trust in Ben.
 
Setting the box on a flat surface nearby, Ben swivelled on his cushion so that he could face Kerr directly.  "I want to say thank you, and that I\'m honoured."  He grinned sheepishly, but pressed on despite obvious embarrassment.  "You\'re taking a chance in trusting me, and... I recognise that.  I won\'t let you down."
 
He bit at his lower lip and reached a hand out to take Kerr\'s own.  "If it\'s one week, it\'ll be one week from today.  If two, then two from today.  So, you know when to expect me."  He nodded, trying to get Kerr to agree that this idea was a sensible one.

[Existentially Odd]

In truth, it sounded a bit long to Kerr, but he didn\'t directly say this as he shook Ben\'s hand. It felt like he was making a deal with the proverbial devil, though why he should feel so intimidated was beyond him. It would be through no fault of Kerr\'s that anything went wrong.

"You should be recovered in a couple of days," he hinted, then dropped the mortal\'s hand in order to search his pocket for a pen and one of the fake credit card papers that had come in his new wallet. They were handy for writing things down upon, and he removed one to write his mobile and home phone numbers on now. The action made him think about doing the same thing for Mandy the night before, and it became easier to smile as he handed the little bit of rectangular cardboard over.

"These are my numbers. Obviously you\'ll come at night, but I may not be home. Try my mobile number if that\'s the case, though... I shall make every effort to be there to greet you."

Alone.

He stood, replacing the pen in the lapel pocket of his suit coat, straightening his clothing a final time as he looked down at Ben. "Do you have everything?  Think you\'ll be alright to make it home?"

At the blonde\'s smile, nod and utterance of a noise of affirmation, Kerr responded in kind.  He reached out to place an affectionate hand upon Ben\'s shoulder (unable to stop himself from looking at the time on his other wrist as he did) and gave a small squeeze, smiling into the upturned blue eyes.  "I\'ll see you in a week or so, then."  He didn\'t even notice Ben\'s lack of response to that, as he hastened up the stairs, fearing he would be late to meet up with his date.