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Fingers curled against his starched white shirt and Conrad knew there was no way out of it.

For the millionth time, he had gone from oh-my-God-Worth-I-hate-you-would-you-go-die-in-a-fucking-hole to ooh-baby-gimme-more in a few seconds flat.  Fuck this guy.  Seriously.

But, for the first time he could remember, he kept his head about him.  Conrad had fed recently; he wasn't blinded by the cuts on Worth's arm.  "No, come on.  This is so ridiculous, stop!"

They had never had sex for just the pure purpose of sex.  It was always veiled behind a crude veil of blood and hunger and masochism.

"Aww, what, puppy's got 'is tail b'tween his legs?"  Worth grabbed at Conrad's crotch lewdly.

"No!  I just… I'm not hungry.  What the fuck are we even doing?"  Conrad had always considered himself more or less heterosexual.  Except, you know, when blinded by bloodlust, anybody would do.  "I don't want you."

For a moment, something flashed across Worth's face, and Conrad knew he had not only gone too far, but he had blatantly lied.

"I mean… I don't want your blood right now.  It's hard.  Because…" Oh God, was he talking about his feelings?  "I do want you but I have no idea why."

Worth laughed.  "Just 'cause I'm irresistible, right?"

Conrad would never have admitted it, but he sort of… was.

"You know what?  I don't even care."  He pressed their lips together again, warm and bitter with an aftertaste of cigarettes and sweat.  "I do want you," he whispered again into the base of Worth's neck, the flutter of breath making him shudder.

The sex was hardly even punctuated by blood, just perfectly pleasurable and somehow, twistedly chaste.  For the first time, Worth didn't immediately retreat into the back room for another cigarette afterwards.  Conrad found himself on the floor of the office, linoleum cold against his bare shoulders, Worth half-snoring on his belly.  Worth's face wasn't twisted into a scowl or a smirk, just peaceful and halfway beautiful.

People fell in love everyday.  Vampires, maybe less so.

Conrad wondered why his stomach felt like he was in fifth grade and about to make a speech to the class.

Description
Fingers curled against his starched white shirt and Conrad knew there was no way out of it.

For the millionth time, he had gone from oh-my-God-Worth-I-hate-you-would-you-go-die-in-a-fucking-hole to ooh-baby-gimme-more in a few seconds flat.  Fuck this guy.  Seriously.

But, for the first time he could remember, he kept his head about him.  Conrad had fed recently; he wasn't blinded by the cuts on Worth's arm.  "No, come on.  This is so ridiculous, stop!"

They had never had sex for just the pure purpose of sex.  It was always veiled behind a crude veil of blood and hunger and masochism.

"Aww, what, puppy's got 'is tail b'tween his legs?"  Worth grabbed at Conrad's crotch lewdly.

"No!  I just… I'm not hungry.  What the fuck are we even doing?"  Conrad had always considered himself more or less heterosexual.  Except, you know, when blinded by bloodlust, anybody would do.  "I don't want you."

For a moment, something flashed across Worth's face, and Conrad knew he had not only gone too far, but he had blatantly lied.

"I mean… I don't want your blood right now.  It's hard.  Because…" Oh God, was he talking about his feelings?  "I do want you but I have no idea why."

Worth laughed.  "Just 'cause I'm irresistible, right?"

Conrad would never have admitted it, but he sort of… was.

"You know what?  I don't even care."  He pressed their lips together again, warm and bitter with an aftertaste of cigarettes and sweat.  "I do want you," he whispered again into the base of Worth's neck, the flutter of breath making him shudder.

The sex was hardly even punctuated by blood, just perfectly pleasurable and somehow, twistedly chaste.  For the first time, Worth didn't immediately retreat into the back room for another cigarette afterwards.  Conrad found himself on the floor of the office, linoleum cold against his bare shoulders, Worth half-snoring on his belly.  Worth's face wasn't twisted into a scowl or a smirk, just peaceful and halfway beautiful.

People fell in love everyday.  Vampires, maybe less so.

Conrad wondered why his stomach felt like he was in fifth grade and about to make a speech to the class.