asher_talos | [For Stephen] Fangs make the man (Part Two)

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stephen colbert

[For Stephen] Fangs make the man (Part Two)

[Dated to July 14]

Three days and they were still there. They didn’t feel as foreign as they had when he’d first woken up with them; he’d stopped accidentally clamping down on his bottom lip and tongue, forgetting they were there. They almost felt as normal as ever; natural. Right.

Asher decided it was probably best not to think about how right, though. They were just teeth. Everything that had come with them before didn’t seem to affect him now. No allergic reaction to the sun, no superhuman senses, he’d even checked out as ‘normal’ according to the whitecoats at the clinic: normal temperature, normal pulse, all vitals were decidedly human.

Everything else was just in his head... but he was still afraid of snapping, genuinely worried that he'd cross paths with the wrong person who'd say or do something and flip some switch, setting him off. He didn't want to kill anyone, at least he didn't think he did. Maybe a maiming at the most... Or maybe he just didn't want to deal with the consequences of killing someone. There really wasn't much in the way of consequences back home.

This wasn't home, though.

He'd avoided staying in the Compound for too long for the past few days, but he'd begun to miss his bed. He might have even missed waking up with Chloe's nose in his ear, not that he'd admit it.

After showering and braving the clothing box (which seemed to have taken pity on him today), Asher made his way to the dorm room, buttoning up his shirt then sitting down heavily on his bed. Ruffling his damp hair, he flopped back on the mattress, then grabbed a pillow, placing it over his face.

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Even though Stephen had begun to suspect it, the sight took him by surprise. Eyes widened comically, he was actually a little speechless. For a moment.

"Holy shit, did you actually wish for them and it worked?" he asked, kind of amazed. If the island was granting wishes, Stephen wanted in.

He crept closer, trying not to stare fixedly, since apparently Asher was a little particular about that.

"No." Not out loud, anyway. And not for a good long while now. He hadn't even thought much about them in months, or about how bitter he'd been after meeting another vampire here who'd kept her fangs.

"Before... maybe, but not recently. Mostly for the first few months. Guess that's the prime opportunity as far as this place goes." When he started forgetting, started to come to grips with the fact that he wasn't getting them back, maybe when he was even on the verge of considering the idea that it was best that he didn't have them. It's not like he promoted world peace with them before.

The island was testing much more than just his patience, and the longer he thought about it, the more convinced he became that it wasn't a feeling that sat particularly well with him. It didn't inspire him to behave, or to latch onto any sense of control he had stored up. If anything, it inspired defiance.

"Ah," Stephen said brilliantly. He was still walking closer. "So that's why you...disappeared?" He guessed it would be quite a change. More than it'd be for Stephen if something from his life showed up.

He wondered. About things he shouldn't ever be wondering about.

Asher nodded slowly. "Thought is was just one of those... temporary mindfucks, like the honesty or that fucking tiki idol," he said, not sitting quite as rigid as he'd been before. "Figured I could just lay low, wait for it to pass." Only it hadn't.

Fangs were a lot less like honesty and unlucky idols, and a lot more like Onyx, he thought. Something that followed him here from home, as permanent as things were capable of being, whether he liked it or not.

Weird.

"So...when did they show up?" Stephen was trying really hard to keep from peering closer, getting a better look at them. Asking to touch them or something.

He somehow thought that'd be a stupid question.

"Friday night, I guess. Since I woke up to them early Saturday morning." It was like Christmas. From hell.

"Didn't even have to go through the seventy-two hour transformation for them this time." That was a plus at least. That was definitely the worst part the first time around.

"Seventy-two hours?!" Who had that kind of time to sit around and turn into a vampire?

In his shock, Stephen didn't really notice that he closed the space between them to flop onto the bed next to Asher. He was too busy staring in horror.

"Does it always take that long?"

Asher shook his head to the negative, rubbing the back of his neck idly. "Only when you're awake for the process, it's easier for the virus to take over when the body's dead. No resistance."

Stephen stared, mouth open. This was fascinating! Kind of creepy, sure, but really really interesting. He almost wanted to interview Asher about it.

Except for how he'd probably be killed. Stephen was too pretty and famous to die.

"Wow," he finally said. "That sounds horrible." He maybe sounded the opposite of convincing with that statement.

Asher blinked. "Nowhere near as horrible as your weak attempts at sympathy, or concern or... whatever it is that you're going for," he waved a hand around vaguely. He didn't care which it was, really, because he didn't need or want either one.

"Hey, I care!" Stephen insisted. What, exactly, he cared about was anyone's guess.

Then a thought occurred to him. "Have you eaten anything since?"

"Of course you do." Actually, he'd prefer it if he didn't.

"Anything?" Asher repeated harshly, a clear warning present in the single word. "Or anyone?"

"Anything!" Stephen repeated quickly. For one thing, he figured he'd have heard about anyone getting all their blood sucked. "Just wondered if they...got in the way."

"I have. And they don't." It was a lot easier adapting to them this time around. He'd bitten himself a few times at first, but that seemed to have passed now.

"Anything else you were just wondering?" Asher asked, not actually sounding particularly keen on answering anything else.

Stephen was silent for quite a long time. He kept shooting little glances towards Asher's mouth because he just couldn't help it.

It was kinda hot, in a totally hetero-appreciative way.

"Did anyone ever want to be bitten? Did it ever feel good?" Stephen asked and then maybe scooted further away because wow, he didn't mean to say that out loud.

Asher's eyes glinted at that, and for the first time since he'd gotten them back, he smiled slyly around his fangs. "Of course they did. Familiars; they made it their personal goal to be turned. They do anything, stop at nothing... If they were good, it paid off."

Stephen blinked. But it was a smart blink.

"So...it felt good?" It seemed like an obvious thing, but what if people just thought it felt good only to find out that it actually hurt like hell?

He bet they weren't even able to sue for false advertising, because they'd be dead.

"If you've got a bit of a masochistic streak, then yes." Otherwise it probably felt as good as taking a barbecue fork to the neck. They only made it worse when they decided to squirm during it.

Stephen wasn't sure if he had a masochistic streak. He guessed not, though. He wasn't a fan of pain.

"Interesting," he said, moving another inch or two away. "Very interesting..."

"Stop doing that," Asher said tersely, quickly glancing down at the growing space between them. He managed to make it sound like a demand rather than a request, without raising his voice.

"What?" Stephen asked, blinking in confusion. Sincere confusion, even, as he hadn't really noticed he had been inching away. "It is interesting."

"Is it?" Maybe he'd end up inching right off the edge of bed if he decided to keep it up. At least that was something to potentially look forward to.

Sighing, Stephen said "Yes..." in a way that signified massive amounts of duh. "I mean, you're not...the way you were before, right? You can go out in the sun..."

It was fascinatingly weird.

"No." Asher shook his head slowly. "I'm pretty sure you'd be dead by now if I were exactly like a was before."

Actually, he was almost positive of it.

Well, that was rude.

"Oh, that's great," Stephen said, maybe pouting. "I wouldn't even get the chance to be one of those whatever you called them?"

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