Bloodlust

Alex was shaking. Not just a light shake, no. Violent spasms wrenched their way through his body as he tried to fight. What was he fighting? Nothing other than himself. The beast within. It was speaking to him, saying things he didn't want to hear. Things that he wouldn't admit to. Things that were true.

You want it, don't you? it said. He opened his mouth to argue, but it shushed him, as if it were a substantial being. Then the voice, the monster, started to taunt him. No, you don't want to wake him. Look at him over there, sleeping nice and sound. Wouldn't it be just so easy to get up and take it? Go over and bite his neck, suck out that sweet red liquid until you're completely full. He won't feel a thing.

No! he thought back to it, heeding its warning about Andrew being asleep. I care about Andrew. I need him. He's like a brother to me, dammit! I won't hurt him!

Another wave of pain wracked his body, and he nearly screamed. It was an odd pain, both dull and intense, hot and cold, sharp and aching. He arched his back as tears poured down his face. It had been a week since he had last fed, last had any real blood. Andrew had cooked him some blue rare steak, but other than that he hadn't had anything. He needed human blood, or this would happen to him.

Andrew had once explained that newborn vampires couldn't go as long without blood as the older ones, and if they went too long the pain would be indescribably unbearable. Alex thought he could go just a little more, over and over again, already forgetting Alex's warning about how dangerous it was to let yourself go too long and then feed.

That voice reminded him of it, and he realized his mistake. The tears fell harder. "D-dammit," he whispered. He had let Andrew down. "I'm sorry..."

Andrew rolled over to face him, and Alex had to try his very best to stay still and quiet. He stopped panting, stopped gasping in pain, stopped groaning quietly whenever a new wave of pain hit him, stopped trying to argue with the voice. He just stopped, except for a tremble he couldn't keep out of his body.

But his efforts were all for naught. "Dammit, Alex," Andrew said quietly, sitting up. "I know you're in pain. Why didn't you just tell me you were thirsty?" There was no mistaking the anger and hurt in his voice, and it made the other wince.

"I-I couldn't tell you," he said. "Then I would have to drink your blood. I would have... to hurt you, and last time I hurt you bad. I c-can't--" He stopped to gasp in pain, his eyes widening and back arching. "--do... that a-again," he finished.

"Alex, you moron!" Andrew yelled. "You think I want you to starve yourself?! That hurts worse than you taking my blood, you know!" Alex was crying, whispering "I'm sorry" over and over again. Andrew was mad at him.

"I'm here to help you. Why won't you let me do that?"

"I'm sorry!" he yelled through his tears. "I... I am thirsty..." He admitted this with shame and resignation. "C-can I...?" He reached out a trembling hand, but Andrew just turned away.

"No." That was all he would say. "No," and "We can't now," and "You should have told me earlier," and "You can wait a few more days."

Alex retaliated with, "Please," and "I'm sorry," and "I can't," and "It won't take long," and "I-it hurts!"

Finally, Alex stood up and weakly grabbed Andrew's wrist. "Please, Andrew," he said. "I-It hurts so much...!" Andrew resigned with an angry, "Fine!" and led Alex back to his bed. He was still angry, and Alex didn't want to take his blood with all these bad emotions. He didn't want to take it at all, but he had to now or things would be bad. He promised to Andrew that he wouldn't keep it a secret anymore, or lie about his thirst.

Andrew was in a slightly better mood by time Alex's fangs sunk into his neck.