Prayer By Blood (1/4)

Pairing: CrissColfer (vampire!Darren/fae!Chris)
Rating/Warnings: eventual R / blood, sexual encounters, supernatural elements
Length: part one ~1800 (total ~13,800)
A/N: This wouldn’t be if it weren’t for Katie and Susan indulging my sordid fantasies.  Special thanks to Katie for encouraging me throughout this and for reading every little word of it as it happened.  And as always, a thousand kisses to Tessa for fixing my many mistakes.

Summary: Chris has spent his long life trapped inside the marble-walled city, held captive by satin-edged restrictions and expectations, until the day he stumbles across a wild and untamed man who teaches him how to listen to the call of his blood.

part one || part two || part 3 || part 4 || complete AO3 link || ICH

If you are not long, I will wait for you all my life. - Oscar Wilde

Chris sees him first in the woods.

He’s taking a walk through the forest, breathing in the cool, fresh air, running his fingertips across the rough bark of the massive, ancient trees.  He loves it outside, even if his life keeps him locked up tight most of his days.  Time seems to stretch out before him as he wanders and the sun is slipping low, casting long shadows, when Chris feels the subtle brush of another’s magic.  Chris turns.

He’s smaller than most of the men in the area tend to be.  And he’s completely naked.  Chris stops and stares.  Utterly entranced.  The other man’s skin is melted caramel in the fading, rosy light; unblemished and smooth save for the dark, coarse hair at his chest, legs, and groin.  Chris’ fingers twitch, his stomach flips and twists.  He’s like nothing Chris has ever seen before. 

The other man is moving slowly between the trees - his thick, corded muscles shifting enticingly under his taut skin.  He is perfect.  Tight.  Compact.  Heavy ass a sweet curve from his lower back to his thick thighs.  Hips cutting a deep groove down to his groin, where he’s half-hard and bigger than any man his size has the right to be.  His profile is gorgeous.  Small ears (not an elf, then).  Plump cheeks.  Full lips.  Clean jaw.  Chris can count the man’s eyelashes from where he’s standing.  The man is utterly focused, staring ahead at something.  Chris follows his gaze.  There’s a deer in his sight line, grazing unaware near a sapling.  A werewolf? Chris wonders.  But the man doesn’t have the silvered scars of territory and mating fights that most wolves have.  The man approaches the deer with silent steps.  He seems almost to flow, so fluid are his movements, and the deer doesn’t notice him at all.  Chris watches, enraptured, as the man’s lips draw back in a feral grin, exposing his wicked fangs, glinting bright in the dying rays of the sun.

Oh.  A vampire.  Chris shivers, feeling his heart quicken and his pulse pound in his throat.

A cool wisp of breeze brushes by, catching in Chris’ clothes and ruffling his hair.  The man’s nostrils flare and he freezes.  His powerful muscles stand out in stark relief.  Chris holds his breath and thinks about running.  He’s fast, but he can’t seem to move.  The vampire’s nose twitches again, as though he’s caught a scent, and his head turns in Chris’ direction.

Chris almost gasps.  The man’s eyes are a deep whiskey gold and too bright.  Chris watches the way his pupils blow wide when the vampire spots him.  He feels caught in that gaze, held fast and rooted down to the earth.  He tries not to think about how he’s suddenly hard, or the way he can feel his pulse in his wrists and throat and groin.  He’s never been more acutely aware of his own blood.  He knows the vampire is aware of it too.

The man’s red lips draw back again, exposing those white teeth, but this time it’s in a smile.  The fear - unaccustomed and strange - loosens in Chris’ chest.  The smile changes the man’s whole face.  Where once was a predator - fierce, dangerous - now stands a gorgeous creature with wild, dark hair and a grin so big it makes his eyes almost disappear.  Chris swallows past the sudden dryness in his throat and can’t help but see the way the man watches the movement in his neck.  He can’t help by think of how delicate the skin there is, how easily the man could break through to the blood running just below.

The vampire turns away from the deer and starts towards Chris.  Chris struggles to keep his eyes above the man’s waist, above where his cock - long, thick, flushed a dusky pink - is bobbing between his heavily muscled thighs.

“Hi,” the man says.  His voice is low, but bright.  Smooth and rich and it shivers across Chris’ skin.  He’s glad he’s naturally resistant to compulsion; even so, he wants.  He can feel it tugging in his gut, a need for something he’s never really wanted before.  This man is a stranger, and Chris somehow feels like he knows him.  Like he’s been waiting for him forever.


“I’m Darren.”  He sticks his hand out in an easy greeting.  Chris looks at it - the broad knuckles, the tracery of veins, the long fingers - and wishes touch, contact, wasn’t so forbidden among his people.

“Chris.”  He nods his head sharply in a more appropriate greeting for his kind, hoping Darren will understand.  He must, because Darren pulls his hand away without looking put out by it.  Chris is relieved.  Not everyone understands the differences among the cultures and he doesn’t want to offend this man before he can figure out more about him.  He doesn’t want Darren to disappear into the forest before he can decide if the thrumming in his veins means more than just base desire.

“You’re not like me.”  Darren says.  He is completely unashamed of his nakedness and Chris’ eyes keep flickering to Darren’s nipples - tiny and light brown - and the solid curve of his collarbone.  He wants to dance his fingers along the bone and scratch his nails through Darren’s chest hair.  The magic inside him is rising up, lapping closer to the surface, drawn by Darren.

“Nope.”  Now that the fear of a hungry vampire is gone, Chris feels more like himself again.  Heat is growing in his belly, heavy and new.  Every moment with Darren tells him the want in his veins is more than just the improper appreciation of Darren’s naked form.  There’s something about Darren that Chris’ very being wants - he can feel the power radiating from Darren.  And that’s going to be a problem.  Darren isn’t something that’s allowed for Chris.

“But you’re something.”  Darren bounces a little on his feet, eager.  Chris has almost forgotten the dangerous creature he was just minutes before, but the flash of sharp teeth as Darren grins again reminds him.  He’s not afraid, not of Darren, but perhaps of what Darren means.

Chris shrugs. “We’re all something.”

“But you’re something special.  I can - I can smell it.”  Darren takes a step forward, right into Chris’ space.  Chris’ eyes flutter; his pulse jumps.  This close, Darren smells of leaves and wood smoke and naked skin.  His eyes are darkening to melted gold.  “It’s, it’s magic.  You’re magic.”

“I’m not a mage.”  Chris would be surprised if Darren doesn’t know what he is, but Darren seems like such a wild thing, untamed.  Maybe he’s the first of his kind Darren has ever met.

“No.”  Darren presses closer.  Chris gasps at the slightest brush of Darren’s nose against his neck, skin to skin.  He shudders and his cock jumps.  Darren is breaking so many boundaries of propriety and law and Chris wants him to break the rest.  “Not a mage.  Something more.  But what?”

“You’re just going to have to work to find out.”

“Mmm,” Darren mumbles and Chris’ eyes squeeze shut as Darren nuzzles into his throat.  He’s not worried about Darren biting him, but Chris wants him to.  The thought of it burns down his spine.  He knows, even if Darren doesn’t, what it would mean for them both if he were to break the skin and taste Chris’ blood.  It’s been just minutes since they met, but he wants it.  Wants Darren.  Chris can feel his own magic, his life’s very essence, sparking under his skin, reaching out for this near stranger.  Chris would be shocked and worried that he’s calling out for a vampire, of all creatures, but it feels right.  It feels as though it should have been centuries before.

“You were watching me,” Darren says.  His breath is hot against Chris’ throat.  He’s never quite understood how vampires work, how they have breath and life and body heat.

“You’re naked in the woods.”

“I was hunting.”  Darren finally pulls back a bit and Chris clenches his fists to keep from reaching out to pull him close again.


“Sometimes I get messy.  And it’s hard to get blood out of clothing.”  Darren shrugs and Chris watches the shifting of his muscles and bones, the way his collarbone hollows and shadows before settling smooth again.  His chest is so broad and his waist so narrow.  Chris aches to touch and knows he can’t.  He can’t break that boundary before he’s absolutely sure.  But his magic is telling him what his soul needs; he can’t - won’t - deny it.

“Sorry I made you lose your dinner,” Chris says instead of the words he wants to.

“Huh?  Oh.”  Darren glances briefly over his shoulder.  “She’s still out there.  I can hear her heart beating.”  He turns back and his eyes find Chris’ - they’ve gone even darker, threads of black bleeding into the gold.  The intensity from before is back, sharpening Darren’s features.  He’s sliding into back into a predator and Chris is drawn to the seductive nature of him.  “It doesn’t sound as good as yours though.”

Oh.  The heat flares low in Chris’ belly.  He feels as naked as Darren is.

You’re going to be mine, he thinks suddenly.  His heart pounds with it and Darren’s nostrils flare.  He inhales sharply.  Chris knows Darren can smell the copper and salt of his blood and he wants him to have it.

“But, unless you’re offering here, I do actually need to eat.”

Chris blinks.  The fierceness has faded from Darren’s face once more, smoothing the sharper edges.  He’s handsome; stunning as a man, ferociously gorgeous as a vampire. “Oh, I-”

“I’m kidding.”  Darren reaches out as though to touch him again, brush his neck with long fingers, but stops.  Chris sways on his feet, leaning into the aborted gesture.  “I’ll see you again, yeah?  I’ve got your scent, now.  I’ll be able to find you.” 

The thought should be terrifying, but it’s not.  Chris wants Darren to come to him again, wants to stare in those eyes and be close to the power that thrums just under Darren’s honey-warm skin.  He doesn’t bother to tell Darren that he’s mapped the subtle magic of Darren’s very life, his essence.  He’ll be able to find Darren, too.

“You’ll see me again,” Chris says, and then Darren’s gone, sprinting light-footed and silent through the woods.  Chris catches a glimpse of his ass, round and the same rich color as the rest of him, before he disappears between the huge trees.  Chris waits just long enough, eyes closed and tendrils of magic reaching out from him, to feel it when the deer surrenders to Darren’s teeth.  He shudders.

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