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Personal

Written by:

PetPetAngel

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"Are you afraid of me?"

"N-no."

"Ah, such a liar, Timothy. That's not suiting for an angelic little boy such as yourself. It almost makes me feel bad. Actually, no it doesn't. Sorry chap."

Anti-Cosmo watched as the boy struggled futilely against his restraints. He could hear the boy's uneven breathing; hear the heavy ramming of his heart against his young, breakable rib cage. He stared at his nails in disinterest, waiting for him to settle down once more.

Anti-Cosmo grew impatient with the small child and his panting. He would make the boy pant, but for a totally different reason. He sauntered over to him, taking his time before casually draping a hand on Timmy's cheek. He smiled, fangs protruding slightly. He could see the boy's eyes widen, and he grinned.

"Such a little thing, aren't you, Timothy, dearest?" He leaned over him, dwarfing him in size considerably. He licked his lips hungrily before continuing. "My little doll," he murmured, "Porcelain and fair, fragile like glass."

He lifted the boy’s shirt up, making sure never to lose eye contact. Fear radiated off Timothy’s figure in waves, and it made him feel rather lightheaded. Fear was his aphrodisiac. He lived off of the trembling of people’s lips, but also off of the glimmers of hope which shone in their eyes.

His trailed his hand along the small, prepubescent curves of the child. He could feel Timothy gasp when he rested his hand at his navel, and playfully, he dug his claws gently into the supple skin. Timmy cried out, trying to pull away, but the movement only worsened the pain.

“Tut, tut, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Timothy. Let me take away the ache, my little Timothy, so young and foolish. Do you feel the hurt? Do you want it to stop?”

Timothy’s whimpers were like music to his ears. He hid a smile before quietly speaking once more, “If you don’t want me to, I’ll just go away and leave you here alone.”

“No! Don’t go!” He could tell that the boy would be beyond hysterics if he left. He would scream and cry for him, do anything he said if he even walked away from the cold stone he was strapped to.

“Awww… Timothy, I’m touched.”

Timothy winced at his false sincerity. He mumbled angrily, as though trying to ignore the fact he’d even spoken at all. “Just make it go away.”

“Are you sure? Because…” He tested his theory, stepping away, “I could always leave you be.”

At first Timothy did nothing. He didn’t move or squirm, whimper or attempt to flail. Anti-Cosmo furrowed his eyes in anger, gritting his teeth. But he felt satisfaction rush over him as he heard Timmy sob. A small, but wracking sob. He could smell the salt of Timothy’s tears.

“Please…”

“Please what?” His tone gave away the mild annoyance that was still retreating.

“Please don’t go. Please make it stop hurting.”

Anti-Cosmo smirked watching Timothy from the corner of his eye. He turned, walking slowly around the table Timothy was resting on. “Oh, I don’t know Timothy. You might have to try and persuade me.”

“How?”

Anti-Cosmo stood next to the boy once more. He met his eyes before whispering, “Scream for me.”

He could feel blood on his hands as his nails clawed deeper into Timothy’s stomach. He could hear Timothy screaming in pain; feel his body twitching involuntarily from the pain. He shuddered against the table as a wave of arousal washed over him. He threw his head back, smiling contentedly.

Anti-Cosmo’s stomach fluttered as he returned to his normal behaviour. He received nothing more than a bewildered glance from Timothy, still recovering from the blow. He smiled fondly at him. “Although I’m sure it’s shocking for you to hear, Timothy, I’m into a give and take relationship. I just took from you, so let me give back to you.”

Timothy’s eyes stared at him, confused and dazed from the dull ache in his abdomen. Anti-Cosmo leaned over him once more, smiling seductively and closing his eyes before slowly and sensually grazing the wound with his tongue. He did it again and again, smiling serenely at the taste of Timothy’s life, his blood.

He listened carefully for the small hitches in Timothy’s breath, swirling his tongue against the nearly healed cut. He arched slightly at his once more growing arousal. His legs felt like jelly as he ran his tongue over his fangs, trying to savor the flavour.

Timidly, he heard Timothy’s voice. felt slightly in a haze as he opened his eyes to look at Timothy. He caressed his cheek tenderly before speaking softly and carefully, “Don’t be scared, poppet. I’ll make you feel good.”

He could feel the small body beneath him trembling. For the first time, he was so turned on that he couldn’t even tell whether the trembling was from anticipation or fear. He breathed deeply before going back to his loving licks, smiling as though he were drunk silly. His hand stroked Timothy’s neck, swallowing the blood which flowed into his mouth.

The coppery tang of it made him groan. He suckled gently on the cut, getting as much out of it as he possibly could before moving on to another. His other hand traced patterns in the left behind blood. He drew anything that came to mind, thinking of Timothy’s pleasure above all else. He chuckled as Timothy shook against his touch.

He pulled away suddenly. He could tell the boy missed his warmth from how goosebumps formed on his arms and stomach. He resisted his urge to stare at the hardened pink nubs, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself. Angrily, he slammed his fist into the stone of the table, feeling better as it cracked under the pressure.

He growled low in his throat at his lack of control. He ground his teeth together slowly before swallowing thickly. Suddenly, he smelled salt again.

His eyes snapped open to look Timothy. He hadn’t even thought of how much he might scare the poor thing. He went over, caressing Timothy’s cheeks once more, begging him, “Open your eyes, love, please.”

Timothy’s eyes did indeed open, but nothing but tears poured from them. He began to whisper fearfully, “This is all a little game to you… You’re just going to end up killing me in the end so why don’t you just get ahead of the game and strangle me or something now?” Anti-Cosmo furrowed his brows as Timothy continued.

“You’re just going to hurt me in the end, just going to rip me to pieces or something…” Sobs wracked his form before he could continue. Anti-Cosmo tilted his head curiously, somewhat shocked by Timothy’s small outburst.

His hands were light as feathers and lips even softer as he kissed Timothy deeply, trying to take away the pain, but he only seemed to cry harder at his actions. Anti-Cosmo was at a loss for words as he suckled gently on Timothy’s bottom lip. He wiped away his tears before kissing his eyelids tenderly.

He placed a finger to his lips before he could speak. “Shhh, poppet….” He nuzzled Timothy affectionately before speaking. “I’d never do anything like that to you. I’d never hurt you or kill you or anything of the sort. My heart aches at the very thought of it,” he whispered to the younger one.

Timothy’s shaky breath tickled at his neck. He felt a loss of control, just like the one before, come back, as he laid himself over Timothy. He let out a feral growl before arching slightly, growing lustful as Timothy mewled in his ear.

He rolled off of Timothy, despite the aching he felt. Lying next to him, his hand went to trace over his nipples gently, flicking every so often, smirking as Timmy cried out gently once more. He could see that he’d set something off in his little friend, and he felt accomplished for it. He could see it. He could see the need.

He pulled up Timothy’s shirt further, suckling hungrily on one of his nipples, playing with the other teasingly. He nibbled and bit and licked until he heard Timothy whisper his name.

“Touch me.”

He held back the laugh that was rumbling in his chest. He grinned maliciously before asking, “Touch you… where?”

“Down there.”

“Down here?” He moved to Timothy’s ankles, licking his lips as he stared at his real prize. He knew exactly what Timothy wanted – but he’d have to ask for it nicely if he wanted it any time soon.

“No,” Timothy whined childishly. He could see the blush fast spreading across his pale cheeks. “Touch me… Down there.”

Anti-Cosmo feigned confusion even though he knew that Timothy couldn’t see it, far too embarrassed by what he wanted to look at him in the eye. He grinned once more, resting his hands at Timothy’s knees. “Here?”

“No!” He could sense the anger in Timothy’s voice, but it all faded away when he mumbled, “You know what I mean.”

“Well then, ask me courteously and I might consider it.”

He moved so that he hovered over Timothy once more. Their lips were mere centimeters apart as he asked, “Well?”

He didn’t expect for Timothy to actually do anything. His eyes widened considerably as Timothy’s inexperienced mouth attacked his own, waiting for him to take the lead and show him what to do. He grinned into the kiss, running his tongue over Timothy’s lips, asking for entrance but not sure if he would get it. He was further pleased when Timothy got the message and opened up.

He pulled away, lightheaded once more as Timmy panted for breath. He chuckled when Timothy spoke with more confidence than he had ever known the young boy to have, speaking demandingly. “Well?”

“I guess I might have to accept your request.”

His hand wandered slowly and tauntingly to Timothy’s arousal, unzipping his jeans quickly despite a bit of fumbling and gently stroking his manhood. In all honesty, he was impressed that Timothy didn’t give out right away.

He reveled in and treasured the small moans and cries of pleasure Timothy let out. He felt himself start to slip – his control was fading, but at the moment he couldn’t have cared less. He stroked Timothy’s cheek, surprised when he took one of his digits in his mouth and sucked on it.

He hadn’t expected that, either, and he groaned himself at the suggestive action. He could tell that Timothy wanted to have his hands free, but he was too preoccupied with pleasuring him and watching him that he couldn’t move to do anything else.

He could tell that Timothy was coming close from the way his muscles tensed and how he arched into his touch. With a smirk, he readied himself. Positioned carefully over Timothy’s jugular vein, he waited until just the precisely right moment.

His thirst for blood had only grown in the time that they had spent together. It pained him to wait any longer, but he would do so, if not only for Timothy’s sake. In his mind, he began to curse himself for caring for the first time in centuries. Why would you care if he were in pain? It’s going to hurt anyway. No it won’t, another voice in his mind argued. It will be pleasurable, right?

He nodded, his stroking becoming even more frenzied as his impatience increased. But he could feel it – it was close.

Suddenly, Timothy’s entire body went stiff. He ceased his sucking as he wailed in orgasm, but he was without a voice as Anti-Cosmo dove for his neck and bit him. Anti-Cosmo convulsed from the pleasure and resisted the urge to cry out himself as the bitterness of Timothy’s blood flowed into his mouth, filling it over and over again as he continued to swallow each mouthful.

He could feel Timothy arching against his hands, one attached to his face, clawing at his cheeks, the other having moved to his stomach, gripping his sides, both holding him down. Every time he tried to pull away, his grip tightened even further. He tuned out the cracking of Timmy’s bones and the rasping of his dying breath, focusing only on the life flowing into his mouth.

Suddenly he pulled away, unable to continue. He looked away as blood oozed from the bite wound he had created. He could no longer steal the blood from him so ruthlessly, so heartlessly. He was a lover, not a fighter.

He waited a few more moments before returning back to the body. He felt alive and crazed, hungry like the monster he was.

Instead of the rash, impulsive bit he had placed on the young boy earlier, this time he lowered his head slowly, sucking gently and running his hands over the body quickly losing its remaining heat. The blood on his hands was sticky, but he didn’t mind it. He moved away, licking the dried blood from his earlier injuries, then coming back to the present.

He continued until there was not a drop of blood remaining in his body. When he pulled away, he felt satisfied with his work. He stood up straight, licking the blood off his hands. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, patting his mouth before returning it to its former place.

He leaned over Timothy, feeling a slight pang of guilt. Not a pinch of regret for killing him, but rather for breaking the promise he had spoken of earlier.

He ruffled his hair lovingly, smiling gently, kissing the cold lips one last time. He whispered, “Sorry love. I hope this won’t get between us.” He smiled wider, “I guess I did mean to kill you,” he spoke. “Ah well. Nothing personal, right poppet?”