From Biting to Hugs

Who: Corwin and Ivan
Where: Corwin's house
When: 7:45ish

Corwin sat on the steps that led from basement to house, well out of the way of the last rays of sunlight and any shadow that happened to come waltzing through the open hatch doors across the basement, leading in from the outside. He wasn't expecting shadows, however: he was expecting Ivan. He'd timed this carefully, using his best guess as to when shadows would come looking for him and Delilah and the ghosts-- though thank god Theresa had gone out, once she'd appeared again, and smashed a few mid-mirror-transit, so now they were down from sixteen to twelve. She was being remarkably helpful, though when asked all she did was mutter that it was for the girl and stalk off.

None of that, though, changed the fact that after fighting most of the day the day before, and after being torn to shreds again that morning, Corwin was in rather dire need of another meal. He couldn't go out yet, and even if he did he was afraid he'd be gone far too long; he couldn't ask Delilah after her donating the day before; and he couldn't ask Shannon or Olivia-- they had their own worries. And, well, Ivan had offered... kind of....

So it was Ivan he called, first in the morning-- no answer. Then in the afternoon-- no answer. And finally again, just half an hour ago, apologizing and embarrassed and half-begging and starving, dammit, in the hopes that he'd come over. And he was. Corwin could have kissed him, he was so grateful, if he didn't know that would be a bad idea. He'd just have to make do with biting him.

Ivan was quick to make his way to Corwin's house, somewhat dazed still from his day-and-a-half hibernation. Beforehand, however, he was hesitant to leave just yet, wondering if he should drag his ancestor's blade with him in case any shadows did decide to start trouble. He figured, though, it'd be a little awkward to be wandering down the sidewalk holding a big gold-plated weapon from the 1800's. He decided to leave it behind, heading off to Corwin's place at a runner's jog.

Carefully, he briefly knocked before entering in through the basement doors, shutting them behind him gingerly as if they were made of glass.

One of the two dangling, naked bulbs was on, so at least they both could see. It wasn't like shadows knocked, anyway. Corwin broke into a relieved grin at the sight of the familiar face, though he carefully kept himself right where he was, despite instinct screaming to just pounce. He couldn't do that to his friend. He could wait another few minutes-- but his hand did tighten a little on Davey's back, where he was petting the siamese on the step next to him. The cat protested noisily and ducked away, trotting towards the newcomer. "Hullo, Ivan," Corwin said, ignoring the cat. "Made it over here okay?"

Well, obviously he had, since he was here, but... he had to say something.

Ivan turned to look at Corwin, his face slightly creasing in a visible cringe. The cringe melted a bit into a smile, nervous and a little sad, "Hey, Corwin... You.. okay..?" He walked forward, wearing light clothes, more specifically a tank-top that would allow easy and not-awkward access to his neck. His smile slowly faded, "...You look very... hurt.."

Of course, there wasn't much Ivan could really say to accurately describe the other. The man was a vampire, and vampires weren't supposed to look alive and well. "Well.. I'm here now.. so you don't have to worry.."

Oh, hell, had he forgotten to change clothes? Again? He'd changed after the morning, or he wouldn't be able to move by now, but he'd been hit since then, too. Corwin looked down at himself with a wince, himself. "Sorry... everything's healed up just fine, almost--" He had a few that were lingering, but they weren't bleeding anymore, at least. "--but I guess I didn't notice I still had blood on my clothes...." Maybe that was another reason he was so damn hungry. dried blood scent right under his goddamn nose.... He stood up, rubbing at one of the stains self-consciously and trying not to stare at any of Ivan's exposed skin.

Ivan sighed a little, rubbing at his eyes, "If you called earlier today... I'm sorry... I've been asleep for like.. the past day or two... Trying to just... sleep everything off..." Looking up at Corwin, he blinked his eyes a little, "..You look like you really need a bite to drink..." Walking forward a step or two, Ivan shrugged a shoulder, "Just don't take too much... Don't wanna accidentally throw up on you.." He said the last part with a small, joking grin.

"I'm good at gauging what I can take," Corwin promised, his tone somewhere between guilty and bashful. This felt all wrong, somewhere inside him. Vampires were supposed to stalk, or surprise-- or make due with the blood bank and Babylon-- not take from someone who had come over for that express purpose. But Corwin was hungry, and he didn't really have the willpower to turn Ivan away, not matter how ashamed or guilty he felt about it. "Come sit down?" He motioned to the steps. "You've eaten?" He had food in the house, for Delilah-- he'd had to slip away the previous day for it-- so at least he had something to offer. He'd definitely have to feed him after.

Ivan sat down, nodding a little, "Yeah.. I ate a little before you called." Ivan was staring down at his boots before he pulled one of the straps of his tank top down over his shoulder, allowing Corwin easy access, before looking up at Corwin quietly, "I'm all yours."

Corwin swallowed heavily and knelt down on the step in front of Ivan, one hand hesitantly dropping to his shoulder. God, he was hungry-- he wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not, but it seemed like he could see the man's pulse. "I-- I promise it doesn't hurt. Only for a second, then it's nice...."

Ivan smiled tiredly at Corwin, "If it hurts, I'll deal... You just take what you need.. Don't worry about me." With that, Ivan tilted his head to the side some, as if giving the okay for Corwin to bite him.

No more resisting was really possible at that point. "I owe you something huge," Corwin muttered briefly before he ducked his head-- carefully not just diving in and chomping down, even though it took every ounce of willpower in him-- found the spot that wouldn't gush like a geyser but that would still get him a good flow, and bit down gently. Holy god, gently, though he wanted to be tearing in, he was so hungry. His teeth were sharp, they pricked a little more strongly than a needle given their size, but after that, the pain was gone. All that remained as a drowsy sort of contentment, not pleasure exactly, but... it was pleasant.

Ivan's skin was fairly easy to break through and he couldn't hold back a wince from the piercing of Corwin's fangs. It almost felt like pencils driving into his flesh, though not quite as made-of-wood-ish. When the pain was gone, Ivan's eyelids drooped a little, his chin resting some against the space between Corwin's neck and shoulder. Ivan could smell faint traces of the blood on Corwin's clothes. It didn't necessarily disgust him, but it made him cringe on the inside. The vampire had taken such a beating... such punishment... It was enough to make Ivan wish he was awake for Corwin's first phone call so he could have come over sooner.

Oh thank god, blessed food. It was like water in a desert after staring at a distant lake that he knew he couldn't have, for hours. Corwin shut his eyes and for a long moment or two just drank, one hand on Ivan's shoulder, petting it in an unconscious soothing motion, and the other coming up to support Ivan's head against his own shoulder, thumb on Ivan's pulse on the other side of his neck. Thank god I'm not a Lamatu or something. Pleasant bites were pretty much the only way he kept food, these days.

And stop thinking about them as food, jerk. They're people, people who are nice enough to keep you from going blood-mad and killing strangers out of hunger. And pay attention to how much you're taking! At that reminder of conscience, he finally realized the pulse under his thumb was a little less steady-- the signal that it was time to stop-- and pulled out and back before he did make the poor guy throw up. He pressed a hand to the wounds, half for the slight pressure it needed to stop bleeding and half to catch the last of the blood on his own skin before it did, and the other held Ivan's cheek to hold him steady, in case he needed it. "All right?" he asked, searching Ivan's face.

Whether it was actual sleepiness deepened by the feeling of Corwin's bite and against his arm or blood loss making him dizzy and weak, Ivan didn't know. His awareness was dulled and he started to doze against Corwin's shoulder, eyes lightly closed and breathing shallow. Though the removal of the man's fangs from his flesh startled him, the sensation of teeth physically being extracted from his flesh.

He rose his head, eyes half-lidded and face a bit pale. His lips were pressed tightly together, his breathing normal again but feeling dizzy and a bit woozy. Feeling Corwin's hands on his face, he unconsciously leaned his head against the cold palm, eyelids staying up but his eyes cloudy and dazed. Slowly, Ivan nodded to Corwin's voice, "..Yeah."

He took a bit too much, Corwin thought with chagrin. At least he didn't look too bad, and he definitely didn't look upset or alarmed. That was a good sign. "Come on," he suggested, standing and offering Ivan the support of his hands and arms to stand, with him. "Can you stand? Walk? You should drink something, have something to eat. I've got food and drink inside."

Ivan clutched at Corwin's hand and arm, clinging and staggering with drunken weakness. "..I think so..." Ivan moaned softly, almost clawing at Corwin's arm. "Just... a little.. wobbly... is all.."

Another good thing about being a vampire: Corwin was strong enough and then some to completely support Ivan, or even pick him up if he had to. He put an arm around his waist, taking his near elbow with his other hand, and started leading him carefully up the short flight of stairs. "I'm sorry, I should've stopped sooner. You'll feel better once you've eaten. And maybe napped. At least he wasn't likely to bother Delilah, holed up on the second floor as she was, as far away from shadows as she could get. "Out of the way, Davey...." The cat slunk out from underfoot and through the cat door into the kitchen, ahead of them.

Ivan's head was swiveling slowly about, as if looking around to take in his surroundings. He relied on Corwin's strength for support, "Nap sounds good... Could sleep.. another twenty hours if I wanted to..." His voice was drained and a bit dry but conscious and now aware enough to make sense.

"If you're going to be napping longer than a half an hour or so," Corwin chuckled, flipping the kitchen light on, "I'll just take you home. Sun's almost down, I can drive you there. You'll be worlds more comfortable in your own bed than on my couch." With a dog running around. Two of them. At least they were both upstairs with Delilah-- for now. "Here, sit." He guided Ivan to a chair, a simple, cheap kitchen chair, metal with a plastic, padded seat. "I'll get you something."

Ivan groaned softly as he sat down. He then laughed a little, "I can stay awake for a bit... I need... to get my sleep cycle back on track... I slept for like a day and a half... or whatever... and ever since I woke up I've been so exhausted.." He rubbed at his face with his hands before looking up at Corwin, eyelids drooping a little, "You.. feeling better now..?"

"Much better," Corwin said with relief, opening the fridge and getting out juice, cheese, bread, and ham. He could still make a mean sandwich, thank you very much, even though he couldn't eat it anymore. Maybe he could even heat it up; someone who'd lost blood could get cold, he knew that. He poured the juice and offered it to Ivan, first. "Thank you. Very much, I really appreciate that you'd do that for me...."

Ivan rose his hand and took the glass of juice, setting it shakily--though carefully--on the table before leaning his head in and sipping it, his neck stretching like a deer's. "Anytime... To tell you the truth, I was actually a little afraid to... was like 'am I really gonna do this?'... But then I saw you and... was like.. you just looked so hurt... like you were... un-dying... or.. something like that..."

Chuckling faintly, Corwin turned back to the sandwich fixings. "I guess looking pitiful can be useful now and then.... Was it all right? Not too bad? Aside from the whole woozy thing, I promise I don't normally do that." He was just so hungry. "Do you have a preference as to sandwich? Ham and cheese okay? I even have a tomato, if you want."

Ivan sighed deeply before yawning, "I almost fell asleep... Which I guess is a good thing... It hurt at first.. but then it was fine... It.. was like--" Ivan stopped himself short, going silent before looking down at his juice before sipping it, "Never been bitten by a vampire before... Are all vampire bites... like that..?" He looked up at Corwin, eyes tired but curious.

"It depends on the bloodline." Corwin decided ham and cheese would do, since he got no protest, and set about making it. And getting the half-sliced tomato out, too. He'd made one of these for Delilah the day before. "My type, the Strigoi, yes, we're all like that. Lamatu vampires hurt, as do Acherus vampires and Vetala vampires. Faryngaels, they feel more good-- depending on your definition of good. And Lotharatum are pretty nice. Renfields, it depends on the day-- they're random."

"Bloodlines... So there're different types...? I've never heard of that... But, you know, what does society accurately know about something they will, in reality, probably refuse to understand?" Ivan went quiet for a moment before looking down at his juice, "...Are all vampires ..as nice as you?"

"Um." Blushing faintly at the compliment, the only way he could blush, Corwin answered, "Not all of them... the Strigoi, my people, we'd take you in, in a heartbeat. But other types... well, it depends." He hitched a shoulder in a little shrug. "We're all different. Just like people, really. You get hints here and there about how many kinds we are, in the different myths. Like garlic or holy water do nothing to me, but they're both deadly to other bloodlines-- all the myths are true, in bits and pieces. Or, well, most of them." He sliced a few more rings off the tomato for Ivan, adding them atop the ham one by one.

"Oh..." Ivan sipped his juice again, neck elongated and stretched and barely supported by bony shoulders. He was silent for a good moment or two, fidgeting some before quietly, almost hesitantly asking, "...That group of people that came a while back.. that I asked when we met up at the park... We kinda went off that subject.. but... were they... vampires too?"

"They were," Corwin affirmed quietly, putting the top of the sandwich on and bringing it to the tiny kitchen table. He set it down in front of Ivan and pulled over the other chair, to sit in it. "Acherus bloodline-- they're the kind nobody likes. They live more like wolves than people, in packs who roam around and cause as much death and destruction as they can." He swallowed and added, "They hurt my cat." Which was, of course, the most important transgression. Corwin's priorities were just a little messed up sometimes.

Ivan sipped his juice before reaching for the sandwich with a thankful nod and softly saying, "That.. must have been horrible... is it okay...?"

"She's doing better. She's out in the living room, sleeping on the couch-- I don't think she'll ever walk right again, but I'm not planning on letting her out of the house ever again, either, so it won't matter." Patches was too sweet and shy to ever be hurt again. "And for all that, this is worse," he added, a little bitterly, waving his hand at the house as if to indicate the shadow problems. "At least the Acherus stayed out of our houses. You knew when they were coming, and you knew what they wanted."

"I haven't.. had any problems... Except for an.. injured coffee table... Glass all over my living room..." Ivan looked at his hands, the puncture wounds and cuts clean and red around the skin, "Don't have to worry about shadow-things coming into my house... rather than the people they're attacking... my house isn't a shelter... it's not even.. house-y enough to even be a home for me.."

Ivan took a few bites, swallowing before looking up and saying softly, "It's good... thanks..."

"I'm glad they're not after you," Corwin said fervently, overlooking the part Ivan was actually more upset about in light of the potential threat. "I was so worried, I knew you'd seen them, I was afraid they'd try to get you, too...." And while Ivan wasn't as poorly off as poor Delilah, blind as she was, he just seemed to small and helpless sometimes. He couldn't stand the idea of anything trying to hurt him. He did add, belatedly, "And you're welcome. I can apparently still make food a little," and smiled a bit.

Ivan was honestly unsure if he'd be able to fend them off if they did attack him. While he didn't have a whole lot of trouble killing the shadow that attacked Lucius when he and Marlowe were at his house, he would be at totally different odds if he were the actual target. He wasn't physically strong enough to act quickly with his ancestor's sword. "Hopefully it'll tide over soon..." Ivan said softly, looking down at the table.

Once Ivan was finished eating, he took a drink of his juice before leaning back a little in the chair, head slightly tilted to the side and eyes staring at nothing. "Had an... interesting dream while I was asleep.... It was very Silent Hill-ish.. yet the whole time all I could do was think about Emilie... my late friend, you know..." Ivan paused for a second before looking at Corwin, "I think you really would have liked her..."

"I bet I would've," Corwin said with a little smile, trusting Ivan on that. "Tell me about her, then?" All he knew was the girl's name and her apparent loyalty. Oh, and that she was dead. Which really wasn't very much, even if it was probably the most important stuff.

Ivan was silent for a moment, still and gaze unwavering. He still couldn't help but shudder inside at his dream... it didn't scare him enough to startle him awake, but it still bothered him to an extent. He had killed himself, sort of, but he wasn't disturbed at all by witnessing his own death. And that frightened him more than the actual possibility of dying.

Shaking himself a little, Ivan looked at Corwin and forced a small smile before giving a genuine chuckle at a few memories. "Poor Emilie... she and I didn't really like each other all that much when we first met... Before I came out I was part of a.. 'clique' if you will, that called themselves the melting pot. And, you know, a melting pot is like a society of acceptance of any and all differences.. Which, ironically wasn't the case at all with some people in the group..." His smile faded, "A lot of my friends back then made fun of people and berated them... And, well, Emilie was one of them.."

Ivan lowered his head, lightly scratching at his head, "They were making fun of her at lunch one day and I tried standing up for her and get them to stop, and she got mad at me for it. She was like 'I can take care of my god-damn self!' Even though I was kinda mad at her for it, I kept bugging her, you know.. like 'hey, what's up' in the hall and stuff like that.." Ivan then smiled and laughed a little, "Then one day, she sat with me at lunch and said to me 'I hate you' before she started eating.. She sat with me at lunch ever since."

It sounded... like high school, or what little Corwin remembered of it. He'd been one of those "outside" kids, one of the ones who'd be made fun of or just plain avoided-- everyone thought he was crazy, after all, for the most part. That was a long time ago, though. He listened quietly, nodding. "Sounds like she had a lot of spirit," he said, trying to imagine shy, quiet Ivan as part of a clique of any kind, much less a popular sort who made fun of others. He disagreed on the meaning of "melting pot"-- in his experience, all it meant was it had differences within it, not that those differences were necessarily accepted or welcomed-- but he most certainly didn't want to argue. What he did do was call a cat to him, bringing Georgia in from the living room, and comment with a little grin, "And that she taught you a few things."

"She did," Ivan looked down, feeling somewhat ashamed, "I never really made fun of other people.. but I never could bring myself to stand up for them until her. I hung out with her more than my group of friends. We were a lot alike.. sort of.. Punk goth-geeks... I had piercings on my face and ears, but.. they've closed up since then.. she had one of those big hook things in her ear. She filed her nails into claws and her canines to look like fangs. ..She actually bit me once when we were rough-housing one day..." Ivan rose an arm, searching before pointing out faint scar-marks on the underside of his arm. "I bit her back but it didn't do any good. I didn't have teeth like hers."

Ivan couldn't help but laugh a little after that, "She and I were mean to each other. We'd call each other names, trip each other in the hall, play tricks on each other, throw stuff at one another, steal each other's food.. Was a lot of fun.. now, we wouldn't do it to other people.. just each other. She always called me Communist and I called her Nazi... 'Cause she's part German."

Corwin made a little face at the tidbit that she'd filed her teeth. He couldn't help it; it reminded him of Sammy's new guardian, and of vampire wannabes who didn't have the faintest idea what it meant to really be one. Or worse, who did. "Sounds like an interesting sort of friendship, all right. Biting each other?" He couldn't even imagine. He was always gentle with his friends, careful, lest they give up on him and leave-- but he wasn't everyone, and other people were probably friends in different ways. "To each their own, I suppose. I'm glad you were happy, had a real friend like that."

"We didn't break skin if we ever bit each other... just hard enough to make the other feel pain.. Our relationship I guess was pretty sadistic. I think somewhere along the line she... fell for me. Kind of, I guess... One day when we were studying together, she just... up and kissed me, I guess... I couldn't just tell her that I.. you know.. ..and whatever.." Ivan tilted his head back, eyes searching the ceiling, "...I think I have a picture of her.. in my wallet.. somewhere.." He shifted in his seat, removing his small leather wallet and going through it. He took out a picture with himself and Emilie, handing it to Corwin. Ivan was in his piercings and Emilie in her bright orange hair in pigtails. She was shorter than Ivan and wore a black and purple corset while Ivan wore a black suite with a spiked collar around his neck, "We both look kinda ridiculous.. but that's her. And me, obviously."

"You never told her?" Corwin said, surprised, though he looked down at the picture dutifully. "I don't know, you look pretty dapper, to me. The orange hair is maybe a bit much, but the rest looks fine. I mean, I listen to punk, I've been to the shows for most of them." He flashed Ivan a brief, almost impish grin. "I've seen 'worse'."

Ivan smiled a little and looked down,"I guess... I listen to really hard stuff... like Marilyn Manson... Dethklok.. Disturbed... Korn, sometimes.." He took a drink of his juice, staring down at the table, "I really miss her... I'm sure if she met you she'd probably be like... in love with you or something. Despite her.. you know.. what society would call 'weird'-ness.. she's really sweet... She gave me a skull-shaped chocolate piece for Valentine's Day once. Like it was in the actual shape of a skull. Hah, I remember one year, she and I went hardcore Silent Hill for Halloween... I went as Valtiel and she went as a nurse. Was a lot of fun."

"Definitely too hard for me," Corwin chuckled, referring to the music. Not that early AFI wasn't screamy, or Rise Against didn't get very loud, but it wasn't really... hard. No gravelly voices, no walls of guitar sound, no... metal to it. He'd stick with his punk, thanks. "She sounds like a real character," he smiled, then. "I doubt she'd be in love with me, but I'm sorry I couldn't have met her." Goths and punks both, the real kind rather than the trendy kind, tended to be a little more forgiving of the "vampire" thing, even if said vampire wasn't one of the pretty vampires.

"She was the one who actually introduced me to Silent Hill.. And all sorts of other games.. like Final Fantasy, Soul Calibur, Jade Cocoon... She showed me Resident Evil too.. but that game just isn't my kind of game... No story to it.. Well, there is.. but it's not as, like.. deep as Silent Hill's story... Oh, and Shadow of the Colossus... Holy crap..." Ivan tilted his head back before finishing off his juice. He looked up at Corwin, lightly smiling at him.

"You know..." Ivan looked down, face calm and a little tired, "We may not beat each other up, play tricks on one another and insult each other out the ass, but... I'm really happy we're friends, you and I..."

Recent feeding made it possible for Corwin to blush a little, again-- just a little-- and he smiled shyly, reaching a cold hand across the table to pat Ivan's awkwardly, but sincerely. "I'm glad I can be there for you-- even if I'm not so good at the insulting and beating up part. I'd be a little afraid to beat you up." He could seriously do damage without meaning to, too used to "beating up" other vampires and, well, formless shadow people. Besides, he didn't really understand how that could be fun.

Ivan reached up a hand, palm warm and careful, and rest it lightly against Corwin's, noticing the coldness of the vampire's skin. He smiled a little, "I don't think I'm really pain-tolerant anymore... not since ..when Emilie died." His smile faded, "Such needless violence... I knew people could be intensely cruel... but such terrorism was unknown to me until that day..."

He was sure that Ivan would know it didn't mean anything but friendship, and Corwin craved warmth now and then, so he turned his hand over to grip Ivan's gently, half in camaraderie and half to soak up the warmth of a living person. "People are cruel," he agreed sadly. "Most of them, anyway." It was the motto a Strigoi lived by: save those worth saving, punish and feed from the rest. God, if only he could turn people, Ivan would be high on that list to adopt into the family. "At least there are a few good ones out there."

"Like you?"

Ivan's grip on Corwin's hand tightened, if only a little. He then said softly before reaching up another hand to somewhat encompass Corwin's, as if to warm it up, "You're so cold... Do you get uncomfortable being cold all the time..?" Ivan figured that if Corwin was.. in a sense, dead, that he was cold...

Thankfully, Ivan gave Corwin a second subject to latch on to so he didn't wind up too embarrassed to say a thing. "I don't really feel it much anymore, the cold.... Sometimes it gets a bit much in the dead of winter, but I have my cats. Doesn't mean I don't like warmth, though." And he wasn't protesting at all having two warm, living hands around his. It felt nice.

"..I wish I could help.. somehow..." Ivan said softly, looking down. Eyes darting about, he gently eased Corwin's palm against his neck, which was--at the moment--the warmest part of his body. One hand held Corwin's hand in place, the other lightly curled about the vampire's wrist, feeling for the absent pulse.

Corwin shut his eyes with a fangy, near-blissful grin, partly feigned for effect but mostly sincere. Or, well, as blissful as one could get when one looked like him and had teeth like him. "That's just not fair," he complained good-naturedly, opening his eyes again. "You getting all that warmth and me with none...." Not that he really minded. There was no pulse for Ivan to find no matter how long he tried, which was probably disconcerting, but Corwin was used to it by now. Mostly, anyway.

Watching Corwin, Ivan studied him, pausing for a moment before simply getting up and embracing the other in an attempt to share his warmth. He bent his head forward, wincing a bit at the soreness of his neck, and breathed gently against Corwin's neck. This was probably a bit awkward, but, well, why not? Though it would probably be more effective with skin on skin contact, though that would be horribly awkward and uncomfortable--at least for Corwin. Ivan didn't care, clothes or not. There were more reasons for the embrace than just offering heat. Ivan couldn't have been more grateful to have a friend like Corwin.

Chuckling softly, a little awkward more from the unexpected contact and slight uncertainty of what to do, Corwin hesitated a moment, but then put his arms around Ivan's waist, back. "Thanks," he said quietly. Sometimes... you just needed a hug.