Forever Young

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Colt slipped his hands into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket as he strolled home. Every fiber of his being cried out for that boy with his beautiful, delicate features.

His golden hair and bright blue eyes—they were so like James’s. Colt was hungry.

Hungry for that boy. Robbie.

He had to laugh because the whole situation made so little sense. He should have taken him right then and there when they were walking home together. Had he decided he wanted Robbie, he could easily have fed from him and disposed of the body. None would be the wiser. They were alone together, after all.

But he was no longer in the city. This was Northern Michigan which was hardly a vampire’s paradise. For all practical purposes, it sucked…no pun intended. The winter nights would be long, cold, and boring. And Colt hated the snow. In the summer, the weather was perfect. The warm nights were awesome, but they were too short, yielding only eight hours of solid darkness. He could safely arise as early as nine o’clock, as the sun was beginning to set, but dawn came early, around seven. If he didn’t take cover in time, he’d suffer. Nothing was worse to a vampire than a sunburn. Colt had very little tolerance of sunlight.

The other annoying reality of northern Michigan was that the small town populations were going to make hunting next to impossible. When people came up missing, it was too big a deal. In the metropolitan areas Colt had lived previously, he could always find vagrants and relied upon the indigent for nourishment. These were people whose absence wouldn’t be noticed. He feared he’d have to rely largely upon feeding off animals now that he lived in a rural community. Though it would somewhat sustain him, it wouldn’t provide him with maximum nourishment nor the satisfaction he craved. He’d have to find a way to find human prey at least occasionally.

By nature, he thrived on human blood. He existed for the purpose of conquest, and a fresh kill exhilarated him both physically and sexually. The draught of blood from a warm body, a human body with a beating heart, was the ultimate exchange of power. It was orgasmic, quenching both his physical thirst and s****l yearnings.

Having transitioned at the age of seventeen, he forever remained in a body at the peak of s****l potency. This was a simultaneous blessing and curse, a condemnation to perpetual puberty. It wasn’t that he couldn’t enjoy s*x apart from conquest. He’d relished s****l encounters with partners he could not or chose not to kill. Yet when he encountered someone so magnificent, so utterly desirable as the boy he’d interacted with early in the evening, it was all but impossible not to entertain the idea of taking him completely.

He wanted Robbie. Colt wanted him badly for a number of reasons. The purity of his soul and his sweet, trusting nature seemed to call out to Colt. The softness of his features was alluring and tempting, and Colt knew it would be oh-so-easy to just take him. He wanted to feel the pulse of that heartbeat, to taste the richness of that blood.

His mouth watered. His c**k throbbed. He couldn’t stop thinking about the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy.

Yet another part of him wanted nothing more than to embrace the boy, cradle and protect him from the cruel world he was too altruistic to yet understand. He was too young and innocent to even know the meaning of the word jaded. Robbie reminded Colt of another love he’d once known. His first and only true love, back during the War.

The night was still young. Colt could travel if he wanted. It would take him less than three hours, at top speed, to reach a city. Although it wasn’t exactly like the contemporary vampire stories portrayed, his ability to traverse geographical areas with relative speed was one of his preternatural powers. And he’d gotten better at it over the years. He could sprint to Detroit or Grand Rapids, quickly feed, then be back before dawn.

But he knew it would be pointless. Although a human victim was preferable to a four-legged creature, the kill would still leave him unfulfilled. He’d wake up the next evening craving the boy all the more. He took a detour into the woods and found a deer. An animal such as that was a practical choice. They were plentiful, and the carcass was easy to dispose of. He simply tossed it along the highway where it was sure to be spotted by a passerby and mistaken for road kill.

He then sauntered the rest of the way home, savoring the taste of the warm blood on his tongue, all the while imagining it was Robbie’s. When at last he settled in for his fourteen hour nap, he drifted off with visions of sweet Robbie in his mind. Colt could practically taste him already.

* * * * *

Robbie woke in the same state he had every morning for the past ten months—hard as steel. He was so erect, in fact, that his d**k ached. Touching himself was more than a temptation. It was mandatory. Without release, he’d probably die. His boner was throbbing so hard it felt like it might break off his body or perhaps explode.

He wondered if he was normal. Was this what all guys his age experienced? Would he eventually outgrow it, or was he forever condemned to waking up with morning wood? As he reached down to stroke himself, he flushed with embarrassment. Thank God he was alone and no one knew his shameful secret.

Flat on his back, he stretched out under the covers, spreading his legs wide apart.

As he wrapped his fingers around his rock-hard c**k, he sighed. The softness of his palm caressed the rigid pole, causing him to tremble and wiggle his toes reflexively.

It didn’t take long. It never did. Two minutes later he was groping around under the bed, grasping with his left hand for the crusty towel he’d hidden from his mother.

He continued to pump his c**k as he snagged the c*m rag just in time. He tossed back the covers as he moaned and thrust himself into the towel, holding it in place with his left hand while gripping his engorged c**k with the other. He moaned and released, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he did so.

It wasn’t until he was done that he thought about Colt and remembered they had a date that night. His subsiding erection started to come back to life, swelling as he thought about his new friend. Colt seemed so confident and self-assured, the kind of guy who didn’t take s**t from anyone. This, being the opposite of Robbie’s laid-back personality, made him all the more appealing.

But Robbie had to remind himself that what he’d told his mother was true. He and Colt were just friends who wanted to hang out together. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions, get his hopes up about something that wasn’t likely to happen. Colt probably wouldn’t have these same feelings for him, and once he got to know Robbie—

what he was really like—he might have no interest whatsoever.

Why would a guy like that—a guy who walked around with that confident swagger and air of certainty—want to even be associated with someone like him? It had to be because he was new to the area. Colt hadn’t made any other friends yet, but that would all change over the summer.

As Robbie dragged himself out of bed and headed into the bathroom, he decided he wasn’t going to worry about it. He wouldn’t think of Colt and instead would focus on his busy day. There were a lot of lawns to be mowed, and he could make bank if he pushed himself.

After relieving himself, he hopped into the shower. Lathering his chest and arms, he again thought of Colt. He wondered about his body. With those broad shoulders and that narrow waist, he probably looked fine shirtless. If Robbie didn’t will himself to be more disciplined, he’d be rock hard again and would have to take matters into his own hand once more. Well, it wouldn’t be all that unusual. There were days he jacked off more than once. Some days he did it three or four times. When he was busy, whether working or in school, it was much easier to resist temptation, to refocus by concentrating on something other than his s****l feelings.

But his thoughts were not purely s****l. Often he became aroused for no apparent reason, and it seemed the only way to make those urges subside was to achieve o****m.

He’d taken s*x education and knew that m**********n was normal, but he feared he might be addicted to it. It seemed at times as if he were obsessed. Did other teens his age—other boys—think about s****l arousal constantly, the way he did?

As he envisioned Colt, he succumbed to the temptation, and with a slick, soapy hand, he stroked himself, this time more slowly than he had in the bedroom. Round two was different, a slow build up. There in the shower, as he inhaled the steam and felt the caress of the shower spray against his back, the sensations were heightened. He felt light-headed as he edged toward o****m, and at that final, spine-tingling moment of release, his entire body spasmed as the jets of c*m gushed out of him in four copious ropes. He whimpered and leaned back against the wall.

Immediately after climaxing, Robbie tried to put it out of his mind. The very idea of m**********g was something he wasn’t proud of. He viewed it as a weakness, an addiction of sorts, and he feared somehow his mother would find out. Worse yet, he’d be mortified if anyone else even suspected he did it as often as he did. It was his deepest, darkest secret.

Another aspect of Robbie’s character he wasn’t particularly proud of was his undue modesty. He didn’t know exactly why, but he felt awkward disrobing around anyone—

anyone at all. Even at home, when only he and his mother were present, he wouldn’t walk around without a shirt. He’d hated his high school gym class, having to change in the locker room.

For this reason, Robbie usually wrapped himself up in a robe when he got out of bed. He gathered all his clothes, and carried them with him into the bathroom when he showered. And he didn’t step out until he was completely clothed. Lately, he’d been a bit more relaxed, though.

Since his mom had already left for work, he didn’t bother putting on his robe as he usually did after drying off. Clad in only his underwear, he stepped over to the fridge and opened the door, looking for a carton of juice. He grabbed the container and placed it on the counter, then reached up to retrieve a glass from the cupboard overhead. As he grasped it, the glass slipped from his fingers. He fumbled for it, but couldn’t recover, and it sailed to the ground where it shattered at his feet.

“s**t!”

Robbie, being barefoot, didn’t want to move for fear of stepping on a shard of glass.

He crouched down and began to gather the most noticeable pieces. As he scooped one up, he winced. It sliced into his finger, cutting a rather deep gash into his flesh.

He grew instantly weak. The feeling started in his extremities, with his wrists getting limp, followed by dizziness and nausea. Seeing blood was so unpleasant, he almost always felt as if he were going to pass out. Sometimes he did lose consciousness, and when he had to have blood drawn at the doctor’s office, they always made him lie down.

He quickly looked away from his hand and held his arm out, away from his body.

With his other hand, he grabbed hold of the counter and pulled himself up. Already he was starting to feel sick. He looked down at the ground, and then took a wide step away from the shards of glass, stepping gingerly onto the balls of his feet. By the time he’d reached the carpet, he felt the blood trickling down his finger. Stupidly, he glanced down. As soon as he saw the bright red liquid gushing out all over his hand, his head began to spin. Stumbling, he tried to steady himself by leaning against the wall. The next thing he knew, he was spiraling downward, and his vision quickly faded to black.

* * * * *

“Richard, that’s disgusting.” Colt grimaced as he looked down on the older vampire while he fed.

“It’s just soup,” Richard replied defensively. “Gazpacho.”

“You’re eating a bowl of cow’s blood. Honestly, I don’t know how you can stomach that sludge. I can barely stand it warm. The thought of it chilled nearly makes me hurl.”

Richard rolled his eyes at his offspring’s hyperbole. “You haven’t vomited in over a century. I honestly doubt it’s even possible.”

“You didn’t stay up all day, did you?” Colt already knew the answer. Richard often remained awake during daylight hours. Daylight alone wasn’t enough to harm him, but direct sunlight was uncomfortable, even painful. Richard seemed to have a much higher tolerance. Colt didn’t even try to endure direct sunlight; it was far too unpleasant.

Generally when Richard remained awake during the day, he stayed indoors and kept the blinds pulled. “I had a lot to do,” Richard explained. “And someone needed to be awake to receive deliveries. Our packages arrived today from Seattle.”

Colt glanced around.

“Your boxes are upstairs in the guest room.”

“You know, Richard, you’re welcome to hunt with me. Last night I enjoyed a venison feast.”

Richard made a face. “God, I hate wild game. It’s just so…”

“Gamey?” Colt shook his head. “When’s the last time you had a real meal? You know, you can’t go on like this forever. As much as you want to be, you’re no longer human. Denying yourself nourishment is not the answer.”

Richard pushed his chair back and stood up., “Brendan should be waking soon.

Unless, of course, he decides to sleep in again.”

Right on cue, the third family member stumbled into the kitchen. He yawned and stretched, then smiled sweetly at Richard.

“Morning, sunshine,” Richard greeted him.

Brendan laughed. “That’s hardly an appropriate greeting for a vampire. It’s neither morning nor sunshiney.”

Richard stepped over to him and kissed him on the lips. “You’ll always be my sunshine.”

Colt huffed. “Oh for God’s sake, get a room, will ya? After two hundred fifty years I’d think you’d be over the mushy stage.”

“We’re still on our honeymoon.” Richard continued to stare into his lover’s eyes.

“One day maybe you’ll understand, dear boy. When you meet that special person.”

“Yeah, cause Lord knows this town is just teeming with single gay vampires in seventeen-year-old bodies.”

“Aw, cheer up, L’il Colt,” Brendan said in his happiest voice. “Look on the bright side. You’ve all eternity ahead of you. Eventually you’re sure to find Mr. Right.”

“I already had Mr. Right, in case you’ve forgotten. James was everything to me, and now he’s gone forever. I don’t want to hear about finding my soul mate.”

The parental couple stared at him sympathetically. Richard spoke. “Colt, think of this as a new beginning. We’re in a community now—a small town, just like we’ve always wanted. And you’ll make friends.”

Colt sighed and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Speaking of friends, I might be bringing one over.”

“Here?” Brendan gasped. “I don’t think—“

“Yes! Yes, of course,” Richard interrupted. “We’ll have our first house guest. Do tell us, Colt, who is he…or she?”

“He’s this kid I met last night. His name’s Robbie.”

“A kid?” Brendan sounded skeptical. “And he’s human?”

“Or course he’s human, and he’s my age.”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “A hundred-sixty year old child?”

“You know what I mean.” Colt sighed exasperatedly. “He’s eighteen. Almost the same age I was—”

“But dear boy, you’re no longer a teenager. You’re probably twice as old as the boy’s grandfather.”

“You’re not planning on…you know?” Brendan took a step closer to him.

“If you’re asking if I’m planning to feed on him, of course not. But he smells so good.”

“Colton…” Richard waved a reproving finger in his face. “Don’t do anything.”

Colt placed his palms on the counter and hoisted himself to a seated position with his legs dangling down. “Robbie’s eighteen, not eight. Technically, he’s an adult. You make it sound like I’m some sort of pedophile. Don’t forget, I still have a teenager’s body. I’ll always have one.”

“But you have a hundred sixty year old mind, and you don’t have the same emotions as a teenager.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Brendan interjected. “I think his emotions quit maturing about the same time his body did.” Colt hated the way Brendan did that, talking to him as if he weren’t even there. And he was so condescending.

Truth be told, a hundred-sixty-seven was not old for a vampire. Colt was still a fledgling, and there was some truth to what Brendan had said. When you were stuck in a teen body, it did affect the degree to which you matured emotionally and mentally.

When others looked upon Colt, they saw him as a kid, or at best, a young man. They treated him like a teenager, and they didn’t expect him to behave any differently than a typical teenage boy.

He also realized that it was due to his youthful appearance that they had to move so frequently. They could only get away with living in a given location for so long before people began to notice Colt wasn’t growing up. Seventeen was an age where you were almost completely grown-up, but not quite. If only he’d transitioned two years later in life, it would have made a huge difference.

Richard Beckett and Brendan Garrett didn’t have this problem. Richard was in his early forties when he became un-dead. Brendan’s perpetual age was thirty-seven.

Simply by changing their wardrobes and hair styles, they could pass for older or younger than their physical ages.

During the early twentieth century, the three of them posed as brothers. It was more palatable to society for siblings to reside together than friends or, god-forbid, lovers. In the 1980s, they moved to the west coast where they began living as a gay couple, and Colt was their son. He kept his own surname, however, which was Abernathy.

In a literal sense, Richard was his father. Though Richard was not Colt’s biological father, Colt was his vampiric offspring. Richard and Brendan were mates. They’d been together a little over a hundred years at the time Colt came along. In the early years, they’d served as Colt’s mentors. As of late, they were more of a pain in his ass.

“All I’m saying,” Richard advised, “is that you be careful. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

Colt rolled his eyes and shook his head. Advice like that seemed a tad hypocritical, being they drew sustenance from the lifeblood of helpless victims. It had been many years, though, since Richard last killed a human. Still, Colt resented the condescending tone of his preternatural parents.

“Don’t worry. I have no intention of harming the boy.”