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When Emizel left to go check on Soda, he knew what he wanted to talk about. He knew what he was thinking and he knew (sorta) how to do it, he just needed Soda to give him the go ahead. To approve.
To be a fucking vampire.
Did drinking all that Fang blood replace his brain cells with theirs? Sure, Soda was his best friend and undyingly loyal and hung onto every word Emizel said and tried to save him despite his terror and wasn’t afraid of him after he became a vampire and had such a nice face and- not the point.
Soda was his bro, his buddy, his pal, but he wouldn’t just throw his somewhat regular life away to be a vampire, right? It’s not like Emizel was asking for Soda to run away with him or anything (but if Soda offered to, he’d doubt he’d refuse), he would be asking to turn him into a not human and to be immortal but also to have sick fucking powers. Soda would be stronger, yeah, that was the argument. Emizel didn’t want Soda, or the rest of the demons, to keel over and die at the hands of the Fangs, so it made perfect logical sense to turn them all into vampires (with consent of course).
Right?
Emizel jammed the keys into the car with much more ferocity than could be possibly necessary and pulled onto the street with the deftness of a punk and the cautiousness of someone who doesn't wear a seatbelt when they go 15 over the speed limit. Turning up the music to a blaringly distracting volume, Emizel attempted to drown out his spiraling doubt in his decisions with pop music and his awful beautiful singing. Unfortunately, that never worked when he was alive, let alone now when he was a vampire with outrageously heightened senses and way more shit to think about.
“Fucks sake,” Emizel groaned. Of course he had to think about what he was asking, Emizel knew deep down that no matter what he said? Soda would probably agree. In normal situations, Emizel loved that undying loyalty and trust, but when it came to life-altering decisions that Soda should definitely think for himself about, it became more of a concern than haha silly best friend behavior. He wasn’t even going to get into the whole ‘possibly, maybe, worryingly having a small teeny tiny crush on his #1 best friend and pal’ because that was its own thing. Fuck, Emizel wasn’t even certain that it would work, that he could even turn Soda into a vampire in the first place! Sure it would totally be worth it because he could casually bite Soda and it be socially acceptable and then just go ‘oh whoops! It didn't work haha my bad guess we bit each other okay bye’ but Emizel didn’t want to hype Soda up too much about being a vampire just for it to fail. Seriously, why hadn’t Emizel tried to pry out more answers from Arthur? He roughly understood how it worked but he wasn’t 100% sure if he is supposed to bite Soda or if Soda is supposed to bite him. Emizel felt a guttural desire to quote Arthur with his classic “what a pain” but wrangled himself internally.
Emizel was a new vampire, only a few days at it, so did he have the power to? He wasn’t sure. That was the worst part. If Emizel could snap his fingers to make Soda powerful and immortal to be alongside him, he’d do it in a heartbeat, but this wasn’t how that worked. Emizel had to start thinking about how exactly to phrase the question to somehow both lean Soda towards the direction of being a vampire while also emphasizing just how big of a deal that decision is. Man, why did he care so much? Normally he couldn’t give more than a fraction of a fuck but when it came to Soda?
Well, it was Soda.
Emizel came to a screeching halt right in front of Soda, and his insides twisted anxiously (totally not with happiness about seeing him, not at all). The pop music clicked off as Emizel yanked the key out and burst out of the car. He stood in front of Soda with a physical closeness that only came with deep familiarity. Soda’s eyes brightened the second he spotted Emizel, “Hey Emizel!!” The two of them did their usual dap up greeting, but now with Soda (going by Theo now? Doesn’t like soda anymore??) right in front of him, and now hugging him, the anxiety bubbled up in his gut. He took a deep breath, but the air that filled his lungs felt out of place in his undead body, and his hands didn’t shake with the frigid air that left them as he breathed out. Here goes nothing.
“Yeah sure! I’d love to help you with crazy vampire shit, hell yeah!”
The casualness with which Soda made that statement made Emizel’s stomach churn in a way he didn’t know it could. It was borderline unsettling just how easily loyal Soda (or Theo?) was to Emizel, to the point where he’d agree so confidently with so little hesitation. And now? They were standing, staring at each other so close ready to bite into the other’s flesh.
In Emizel’s occasional indulgence in his daydreams, envisioning him and Soda biting each other didn’t usually happen quite like this, especially not in this context. However, with Soda inches away from his face, his mouth slightly agape with his flatter human teeth bared, his hand holding up Emizel’s to his mouth, Emizel didn’t feel like complaining. But as Emizel smelled Soda, as he brought his sharp teeth up to the bare skin of Soda’s neck, as he could practically taste the carbonated sweat, Emizel felt like he would go into a frenzy, and not the kind that comes with being a vampire.
“3, 2, 1!” Soda shouted right before chomping into Emizel’s arm, and Emizel took that as his cue to sink his shark fangs into Soda’s neck. Despite no longer drinking soda, Soda’s blood still tasted sweet with artificial flavoring and bubbly with carbonation. It was downright impressive how he had managed to affect his bloodstream with all the soda he drank, and it was so very Soda of him. He liked Soda. A lot. Too much, considering the now danger of Emizel accidentally drinking too much of Soda's blood. But Emizel thanked the universe for having him already be satiated with blood, especially Fang blood, as there was no way he’d ever live with himself if he went nuts and tried to kill Soda. He couldn't. He wouldn’t.
“I think I liked it more than soda!” Soda happily shared as he wiped away the thick blood of Emizel from his lips. He tried not to find that attractive or somehow a compliment but who could blame him if he failed at that? It did quickly become a bit disconcerting when Soda seemed to enjoy Emizel’s blood a bit.. Too much. But Emizel’s mind was too clouded with replaying the bite in his mind and also concerns about whether or not it worked to really pay too much attention to it. The two said their goodbyes, and Emizel’s mind didn’t fog any less as he reentered the car and started blasting more white girl music to drown out his thoughts again. Not that it would work, but at least the music slapped harder than the Fangs.
“Two more times” a faint but familiar voice suddenly spoke from the backseat, and Emizel nearly swerved into oncoming traffic but by accident this time.
“The fuck are you doing here?!” Emizel shouted. He was shocked at Arthur’s presence, sure, but honestly there were other things happening in his head and also things that happened that he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know that Arthur saw.
“You have two more times to change your mind on what you're doing to that friend of yours” Arthur spoke seriously, but that was normal. The part that caught Emizel’s attention, though, was the somberness in his voice. There was something in Emizel’s punk, gang member heart that subsided and sank once the words and the tone settled into his mind.
“The first time you give a mortal your blood-” Arthur continued, “-their feelings about you become stronger than normal.”
“Yeah but he loves me” Emizel quickly shot out, as if on autopilot. Platonically, that was true, but romantically? He could only hope.
“And just so you’re aware, these feelings are artificial, so long as they drink your blood,” Arthur paused, formulating his thoughts in just enough time to allow Emizel’s mind to run. Artificial? He thought. No but Soda's feelings before were normal, would this change the way Soda feels about him? If he had gotten lucky and Soda liked him back, would this change that? Wait. Why was that what he was focusing on? More importantly, the transformation shit didn't work. Soda isn’t a vampire, so what is he? As if on cue, Arthur continues with his lecture.
“The second time, the feelings are strong enough to influence them. He might even fall in love with you.” Emizel’s heart felt as if it would tear itself from his body when he heard that. He wanted that, he wanted Soda to love him, but not like that. Not artificially, not just because of some fucking vampire power. But he still felt the pang of his crush in his heart alongside his guilt.
“He might even become your slave. And the third time, he’s a blood bond. At this point, that friend of yours, he’ll no longer be anything but just your measly follower”
Nothing had ever made Emizel’s eyes widen so much and so quickly. The way he felt his hands clench too tightly on the steering wheel and his foot press the gas pedal a little harder and his fangs subconsciously bare themselves, it was unbearable. He felt his anger well up in his gut like a flood and he boiled with that water. His rage was held within only by the fact that he couldn’t fight the person he was so pissed at- himself. HE did that to Soda because he didn’t care enough to figure out more beforehand. HE let the first stage of this blood bond thing happen and HE was going to make sure it never got past that. But HE FUCKING DID IT. Emizel decided he wouldn’t let that happen to Soda, not now and not ever. He’d start by explaining it to Soda and telling him he couldn’t drink Emizel’s blood, that should work. Or would he go nuts if he couldn't drink his blood? Soda was no longer his normal self, Emizel couldn't predict his reaction quite so smoothly anymore. No, he’d reverse it somehow, yeah! He’d fix this. Soda wouldn't end up like that, not by his hand, not by anyone’s but especially not by Emizel’s.
He could fix this. He could undo what he did.
Fuck.
Could he?