Viral Love

Another night of plodding along.

I needed water and something to eat or I’d not be of any use. “Valentine,” I said, drawing his attention. “You’re made to exist with little sustenance, but I’m less hardy.”

“You’re hungry,” he murmured, stopping. “The hunting here is poor, Hojo.”

I sighed. “How long before we reach the chocobo ranch?”

“We’ll be there before dawn,” he answered. “Another two hours, most likely.” He gave me a hard look. “You can wait that long?”

It wasn’t a question at all.

“Of course,” I relented, beginning to follow him once more. It seemed unwise to challenge him at this point.

We’d walked half our distance before he spoke again. “You said I’m not a vampire.”

“Correct.”

“Why, then, do I enjoy blood?” he asked. “I… want it.”

“Do you?” I felt surprised. “Perhaps Lucrecia is to blame for that; I didn’t augment you with any vampiric desires or abilities.”

He made a growling sound. “Why would she do that? How would she do that?”

“She made a study of vampires.” I cast my mind back to the bestial creature she’d kept in Observation Lab Nine. “They do exist, you know, not just in legend but in fact.” My wife had spent a lot of time playing with that half animal, half-human creature, but she hadn’t shared much of her notes or thoughts about him. “As to the how and why, I have no clue. She had as many radical ideas as I did, and just as little compunction to act upon them. Maybe she thought you needed vampiric skills.”

I found it interesting she might have tampered with Valentine this way. Vampires didn’t make gestational offspring, but created ‘children’ by a series of blood exchanges. They were sterile, but far from sexless. I remembered her speaking of her vampiric test subject’s high sex drive. “You don’t recall her talking of any special serums, or of injecting you with such?”

“I…” Valentine put a hand to his forehead. “There was so much…” Frustration leaked from his tone. “Anything she wanted, I gave.”

“Sucks, huh?” I commented. “Women like her come along once in a lifetime.”

He nodded shortly. “So…”

“So, what should you do about craving blood?” I finished for him.

“Yes.”

“I suggest you indulge. If you want it, you probably need it.”

“What if I turn into a real vampire?” He whispered his question. “I have enough worries without avoiding the sun and finding prey.”

“Vampires just dislike the sun, Valentine; solar radiation doesn’t automatically fry a vampire to a crisp. And, who says you have to kill to get your blood? A man like you can surely convince people to part with a little blood.” His reluctance would have amused me had I not already had a similar crisis many years back. Jenova cells made a person less than human. “Just bat your eyelashes at the donor of choice and you’ll have the blood presented to you at break-neck speed.”

Valentine gnashed his teeth; I heard it. “I don’t operate that way.”

“I’m sure you don’t. But, is it so bad to learn a little social interaction in order to satisfy a craving?” He had such hang-ups. I took the blame for a lot of them, too. “If it bothers you to imagine a random selecting process, find a steady donor and leave it at that. You have a lot of friends. I’m sure one of them wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m not drinking the blood of my friends.” Valentine started walking faster, his head held high and his back like an iron rod. “I have enough troubles without begging blood.”

“That’s obvious, but if your yearning for blood gets very strong, you may not have a choice. I suggest you head off blood frenzy by choosing your time and donor.” I had to almost sprint to keep up with him now.

“And what if I pick you, Hojo?” He turned on me, grabbing me by the shoulders. “There’s no one else out here!”

My heart began an excited thumping. I looked into his red, angry eyes, seeing with a thrill how close he really was to carrying out his threat. His entire body trembled with suppressed hunger, with high passion.

“Then, I suggest you let me get nourishment of my own first,” I said quietly. “If you don’t, it might be inconvenient for us both. I’ve never been attacked by a vampire, so I don’t know if I can generate blood quickly enough for a feeding. I imagine I’d need some water in my system to make it beneficial for you.”

He stared at me. Suddenly, he let go and began walking again. “I’m not giving in,” he vowed. “I’m not feeding another demon.”

I had no doubt Valentine would starve himself if he felt he had to. Still, I’d have to watch him closely now. If it seemed he’d have to drink blood, I’d make it impossible for him to refuse mine. I wanted to know what it would be like to donate blood to him, to see how long he could last, to measure how my blood helped his health.

In another hour we did reach the chocobo ranch. Valentine left me outside the barn while he went to the accompanying house, claiming I’d frighten the occupants. I didn’t see what he meant by that. I looked no worse than he did. Still, he probably knew these farmers already, and if they knew me it was by reputation.

My reputation really, really sucked.

“They’ll let us sleep in the stables,” Valentine said upon his return. “And, they’ll lend us a chocobo if we do some household maintenance. I’ll muck out the stalls if you fix the water pump on the feeding trough.”

That he’d volunteer to shovel shit surprised me. Still, he might not have basic plumbing skills. I agreed and followed him into the stables.

After a few minutes of examination, the water pump’s problem became clear. I cleaned algae and debris from the inner workings, then made sure the o-ring held tight. Once I had everything back in place, I tightened the barrel chamber and reattached the pump.

“It works,” I announced, standing. My heart gave a wild leap as I turned and walked right into Valentine, who’d apparently been standing behind me the entire time I worked. “What the fuc-?”

He wrenched my head back by a handful of my hair. Two seconds later, his teeth pierced my throat.

Valentine hadn’t been able to resist feeding a demon after all.

Oh, sweet Shiva.

I melted. Nothing else could describe the liquefaction of my bones. Only my cock seemed hard, now. My vision dimmed, but didn’t darken entirely. I hung limp, utterly unconcerned with anything but the pleasure and pain he caused. He could drain every last drop of my blood, leave me a dried up husk, and I wouldn’t care. I didn’t think anything could feel this good.

But, true to the Turk’s basic, contrary nature, he changed my mind for me.

I stiffened in shock and delight as his clawed, gauntleted hand, began roving me. He slid underneath my shirt, scraping me with sharp, hard, cold metal and the hot leather glove at his palm. Wandering, interested, he felt my chest and dragged those razor points downward to my abdomen. I felt my skin parting into bleeding, throbbing runnels.

And, it felt so fucking good. I liked some pain, and he gave just enough. The balance of hot/cold, hurt/bliss sent me over the edge in seconds, pushing me into a blistering, heart-stopping orgasm. But, a dry orgasm. I didn’t shoot. I just hung in his grip, gasping, riding the incredible wave.

Suddenly, I was in the water trough. Valentine, growling, fangs exposed, hung over me with his red eyes ablaze. He tore at my shirt, ripping it off in seconds, panting and trembling all over. He meant to fuck me.

And then, the haze abruptly lifted from his eyes. He staggered backward, clutching at his forehead and shaking his head. Charming confusion settled upon him, and he looked down at me like I’d dropped from a moon. “What the hell?” he rasped, leaning heavily upon the water pump.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. Painfully, I climbed from the trough. “You attacked me.”

Valentine ran his tongue over the point of one fang, eyes traveling to my bleeding scrapes. “Such is evident,” he answered. “What did you do to provoke me?”

“As far as I know, nothing.” I picked up my shirt, or, rather, the shredded remains of my shirt. I couldn’t wear this anymore. “Maybe you DO have to drink blood, Valentine. It’s plain you felt a great desire for mine. Perhaps hating me makes it easier to take initiative.”

He shuddered, turned away from me, and stared at the back of the stable. Slowly, he picked up a pitchfork and began his part of the bargain.