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Czech beer was good. That much was James certain about. He however didn't have such certainty about where he was (it was Prague, but the details evaded him), why and what the time was.
They also had strong plum spirit, a speciality of the whole Czechoslovakia and possibly other close sitting countries called slivovice, pronounced slivowitze. He's had about five shots. Possibly more. It was almost enough to make him forget how shitty he felt. The race in Brno had been a publicity stunt (politics were involved as well), a small contest, it did not technically matter. But he hated losing either way, no matter what the circumstances.
“What's a guy like you doing in the fourth?” a voice tore him from his brooding and it took his inebriated brain a while to recognize that he was speaking English and that it was not, in fact, a norm around here. He raised his head slowly, pushing his hair back.
The guy speaking to him was striking – tall, lean, with long dark hair and deep, grey-ish eyes. His face was handsome, but pale and taunt, his skin stretched over sharp bones. He didn't fit in here anymore than James did.
“The fourth?” he asked sluggishly.
“Fourth price category. A pub. It's a socialist thing,” the man smirked, sitting down without invitation.
“Ještě dvě točený a dvě slivovice,” he said right after to the bartender in what sounded to James like fluent Czech. He somewhat guessed what he said after two beers and two shots landed in front of them.
He was intrigued and slowly made himself shake off the fog clouding his brain.
“Name's James,” he said. “And you are?”
“Adam.”
“I don't suppose you are a native.”
Despite the fact that he ordered in the local language, his English was pristine, elegant, sounding neither British nor American. James couldn't place it. And he didn't seem to be from around here – the rest of the pub was filled with older men, all dressed somewhat alike in jackets and shirts from bad materials, many of them scruffy and with faces reddened with alcohol abuse. His mysterious table guest was dressed in tight black jeans and black silk shirt of the likes that James would expect in New York, not in Prague.
“No,” the man, Adam, chuckled. “But then again, it's been a while since I've been native anywhere at all.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” James laughed, raising his glass and clinking it to the other's before taking a deep gulp. Yes, the beer was good, cold, strong, a bit bitter. He was drunk already, but it tasted refreshing to his tongue.
“I've travelled a lot, that's all. Never settled down anywhere. I feel at home everywhere and nowhere.”
James was left a little speechless by that poetic assessment. He wondered if maybe Adam was younger than he seemed and still had that boastful, romantic view of life that he himself has lost a while ago. But no, that didn't seem plausible. If anything, there was a certain old air to him, especially in his eyes, that seemed very knowing and maybe a little sad.
“What about you, James, where do you feel at home?”
“Behind the wheel... on the track,” he replied without thinking and then straightened, fixing his collar nervously. He was in this hole of a pub to escape all of that, escape media and his career and now he carelessly let on who he was (in case the man didn't already know). But Adam's expression didn't change, except for maybe turning a little more thoughtful.
“Why?”
“Why what?” James murmured and fingered the edge of the shotglass, then downing the contents. The burn almost turned his stomach.
“Why do you feel so good racing?”
“I dunno... it's... I feel alive.”
“Because of the speed?” Adam inquired, seeming genuinely interested.
“No... or maybe, yes, partly. But really, it's the danger. The rush of it. All or nothing.”
A wide smile split Adam's face and he looked oddly illuminated. His eyes lost nothing of their deepness though.
“Ah,” he said as if he's just solved a very difficult problem. “The danger. I see.”
He drank his own shot, turning the glass upside down with a jerking motion, tilting his head back. He set it loudly back on the table and exhaled.
“Come with me then and I will show you a rush like you've never felt before.”
James wasn't impressed.
“I don't do drugs.” Well, that wasn't entirely true, but his point stood.
“I'm not talking about drugs,” Adam laughed deep in his throat. “All you can get here anyway is some bad weed.”
“What then?” he asked, mildly annoyed and sipping his beer.
“What would be the fun in telling you? That's very safe, isn't it?”
He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand sliding up his thigh under the table.
“You flatter yourself,” he said even as the hair on the back of his neck stood up.
“Oh well,” Adam shrugged, his hand retreating. “If it's too much for you...”
“Fucking a guy is hardly some inconceivable danger for me.”
There might be a scandal if it got out, but he's had his share of these. He would live.
“Wrong again,” Adam replied in a light voice. “Partly.”
James was curious, there was no denying that. Sex. Sex with a guy and some sort of a mysterious twist.
Adam was now sporting a cool, bored expression, his long fingers tracing the square patterns on the ugly plastic table cloth. James focused on his hand and imagined it wrapped around his cock. Not a bad thought.
“Alright, fine,” he conceded, a trickle of excitement already flooding his veins. “What do you have in mind?”
“Come with me,” Adam said, standing up abruptly and gesturing to the bartender who came over in a huff, not appreciating the sudden hurry. He reached for the tab that was lying on the table and ticked the items off one by one, presenting a number. James pulled out his wallet and tried and failed to find the right bills. Adam took the money from him and shifted through until the correct amount was handed to the bartender who took them with a curt nod.
“Buzíci zatracený západní...” he murmured. Adam gave his retreating back a look, but said nothing, pulling James outside.
After the stuffy air that smelled of burned cooking coil and cigarette smoke, the crisp night air was a blessing. It had rained during the evening, but now the sky was clearing. The cobblestones were glistening and the streets were empty, illuminated softly by orange glow.
Adam led James up the street, turning into a maze of alleys and small streets until he stopped at a building that didn't look really different from the other ones. He produced a ring of keys and opened the heavy doors. A smell of mildew attacked James' nostrils and he shivered. The hall was dark but he followed Adam without hesitation.
It was reckless at best and stupidly dangerous at worst. And yet, he didn't feel it. He had been racing two days ago and the high was still in his veins. Following a strange man in a strange city didn't reach up to it.
They entered an apartment that didn't look too bad, all things considered. The décor was a little unusual to James' eyes, but it was clean and only a little messy.
Adam invited him to sit down on a sofa and he did, looking at the cupboards of orangey brown wood and assortment of wine and champagne glasses decorating it. There was a tiny TV as well.
He turned to ask Adam something unsubstantial, like whether he lived alone or if the apartment was his, but he never got the words out.
In a blur of movement, he was toppled into lying position on the couch and shocking, white hot pain engulfed his upper body, radiating from the side of neck.
He yelped out loud – not managing a full yell as his throat constricted – and then groaned as the pain receded unnaturally quickly and he started floating on the most unusual high instead.
It was as if his body weighted nothing, but he wasn't dizzy, just light. Light and very warm. He opened his eyes and saw lights, like tiny floating lanterns in every possible colour.
And his cock was rock hard.
Slowly he regained the use of his limbs and uselessly tried to push against the body that pinned him down.
Adam. What the hell did he do?
A face appeared above him, a bit fuzzy and unclear. When his vision finally focused, he recognized Adam's face, twisted in a smile that was stained deep red.
“What the-” he panted, stinging pain radiating from the side of his neck, even if the lightness of his limbs remained.
“Mhmm, you're hard,” Adam murmured, pressing his palm against the bulge of James' jeans. “Not everybody reacts like that right away.”
James worked his hand free this time and swiped his fingers against the skin of his neck, wincing and then bringing them forth to see. They were bright red – he was bleeding quite a lot.
“Did you bite me?” he asked, incredulous.
“What else would you expect from a vampire?”
Adam accompanied that statement by licking his red lips and despite his messed up state of mind, James immediately noticed the weirdly prominent canines.
Shit, he thought, but that's where his mind stopped.
“You've no need to worry. I will not kill you. I only promised you a rush, didn't I? A bit of danger...”
“In my book, that usually comes with the possibility of dying,” James griped dryly and then closed his eyes against all the sensations, worn out by the conversation.
“Yes, well... There are many people who would call vampires animals. Wild animals. There is a chance that I might lose control over myself. But I don't believe I will. Will you extend the same faith?”
In the end, James did.
He was still helplessly aroused and Adam was hot, really hot. And the first bite was... like nothing he had ever experienced.
They moved into the bedroom, into a nice, spacious bed that smelled of clean linens.
After his “meal,” Adam lost a bit of his drive. James could imagine it was not unlike eating a big lunch and wanting a bit of a down time. So he laid down against the crisp white and pink covers and let James work over him. He didn't feel drunk anymore, not at all. He was full of energy, sensitive and excited about every sense he possessed.
As he had assessed before, Adam was very thin, leanly muscled and pale. His skin seemed unblemished and cool, like a marble statue. One that however was not immune to touches and licks. He divested the man of his clothes and set his mouth over the lovely planes of white flesh, his whole body singing at the contact. But he wasn't granted this free reign for very long – he had managed to plant his lips at Adam's nipples, stiff and deep brown but then he was pushed down with considerable force, they places exchanged.
Adam all but tore down all of his clothing – trousers and shirt, leaving him exposed in the strange bed. It was not a new experience in James' life, in fact, it might have been one of the most typical in the past years and yet he felt a little vulnerable.
He didn't lie to himself. It was not just because his partner was a man.
“How is it possible?” he got out when Adam set to licking every sensitive spot on his upper body. “How can you be real?”
Adam had called himself a vampire, but how nonsensical was that?
“The world turns and new species are born every day. Do you ask how a kangaroo can exist? Or a mockingbird?”
James didn't have an answer for that, mostly because Adam's lips were now wrapped around his cock. He didn't forget the sharp canines and he drew a deep breath, not able to relax. Adam swirled his tongue around the head and James thought the surface of it felt a little rougher than usual. His muscles were rigid, flexing in nervous tremors. Then Adam took him deep down his throat, humming (or almost purring really) and he squeezed James' buttocks with both hands, raking nails over the skin. He made a loud sound, arching his hips up and finally letting go.
When he closed his eyes, there were colours swirling behind his eyelids, dizzying, but not alarming. He spread his legs a bit wider, giving Adam even more space to work and shuddered at times, like when the head of his cock slid particularly deep or a when Adam gently nipped the sensitive skin.
He was on the verge of an orgasm when Adam raised his head and gave James a wide smile – and there were the cani-, no, fangs again. James shivered.
Adam moved to the headboard, leaning against it and beckoning James to join him, easing him upwards into his lap so that James' back was against Adam's chest.
It wasn't hard for James to grasp why this was a good position. Adam's cock was nestled snugly in the crease of James' ass and his neck was at the perfect angle. Excitement and fear pumped through his veins and somehow he knew that Adam could feel that – in his blood, in his heartbeat.
Adam wound an arm about James' waist while he roamed the other one all over his chest, only sometimes dipping to lightly trail fingers over his reddened cock. All the while, his hips were shifting against James' ass.
“Did you ever come without your cock touched?” Adam breathed into James' ear. Goosebumps rose over his entire body at the suggestive tone.
“Not since some embarrassing moments in puberty.”
“That's what I thought.” James could feel the smile in those words. “Time to change that.”
James wanted to protest or laugh at him, but Adam started gently licking and sucking at his neck (the untouched side) and his hand returned to its rounds over James' skin.
“Your body is so fragile... so exciting. You run hot,” Adam murmured in between licks. He dipped into the V of James' hips, just millimetres away from where he wanted the touch the most. He tried to arch up, to get some friction, but Adam yanked him back with steel force, securing him firmly against himself and rubbing his cock over his ass a bit more forcefully.
“Please,” James moaned when it went on and on.
“Mhmm...” Adam chuckled. He licked a broad strip on the side of James' neck.
He had already been bitten once that night, but nothing could have prepared him for this. It couldn't compare.
He could precisely feel the two points where Adam's fangs sank into the skin of his neck, but there was barely any pain. That's not to say that the sensation wasn't intense. It was like the high point of orgasm, the moment when you fall and everything becomes too much. Pleasure. Over-stimulation. Pain. All bound together. Except that this didn't end in a fraction of second – it went on and on and he realized he was shouting only when Adam clapped a palm over his mouth.
Adam was still drinking and James thrashed against him uselessly, every nerve in his body twitching. When he finally felt him retreating, he sagged in relief, his vision swimming and darkening.
He was trembling.
He was elated.
It didn't really surprise him when he cracked his eyes open and saw his stomach covered in come and his cock softening. He didn't exactly feel that, but then again, he felt everything else.
His backside was slick as well and he could feel a little contended sigh by his ear and he turned his head. Adam smiled that worrisomely bloody smile again, licking his lips.
He leaned in experimentally and kissed him, tasting iron.
“You truly are a brave one,” Adam laughed when they parted, his accent slipping into something ancient for a moment.
“It's my job,” James shrugged and then winced. His neck was sore. “So, when can we do this again?”