|Observations of a Virginal Vampire
Author: ICMezzo PM
Edward is spending his 92nd consecutive mating season alone and he's pretty sure it's time for a change. Vampires. Rated M.Rated: Fiction M - English - Humor/Family - Edward - Chapters: 7 - Words: 6,976 - Reviews: 237 - Favs: 96 - Follows: 59 - Updated: 11-16-10 - Published: 11-06-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6456182
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Observations of a virginal vampire
Chapter 1: On the demerits of April
A/N: Just a little vampy crackfic fun. This is a few chapters long. I'll try to post one per day.
Thanks to TwilightMundi for betaing!
Stephenie Meyer owns everything you recognize. Rated M.
Edward hated spring.
After all, spring was mating season. And Edward...well, he was mateless. Matefree. Unmatable.
For the 92nd year in a row, Edward was the anti-mate.
Unfortunately, while Edward was, to put it gently, mate-ably challenged, the rest of the world was very much not during this most lovesick time of year.
But while knowing the birds and the bees were getting it on was one thing, it was quite another to be surrounded by a household of horny vampires giving into their animal instinct with such regularity that Edward could set his watch by their orgasms.
Edward was sick of it.
And possibly a little jealous.
After all, what was so wrong with him?
His...parts...were sufficient for mating, he was sure of it. They sure worked well enough when he took them out for a little solo spin. But even if they had not functioned appropriately, how would anyone have known? No one had ever been close enough to find out.
He knew he wasn't exactly bad looking either. The change had ensured his attractiveness. Not that he had a lot of competition anyway. He was the only single male vampire in the Northwest quadrant of the United States. Even if his jawline had been a little less defined, his lips slightly less perfect, or his hair a tad less...well...fuckhot, he still should have been handsome enough to attract another vampire.
And obviously the problem wasn't his sparkling personality. Edward could quote obscure philosophers, converse solely using multi-syllable terminology, identify every serious piano work after hearing two or fewer measures, and could identify the tracks of nonnative species from a distance of more than 300 yards.
But despite all of these things, Edward had never made love. Hell, he'd never even had sex, dammit. He was an erotic neophyte, a tadpole in the giant pond of sexual knowledge. And it drove him crazy.
The squirrels up in elm out back were busting their nuts, while Edward's were sorely neglected. In fact, all of the natural world around him was doing the hanky panky whereas Edward was stuck with... a hanky.
Edward sighed. He could have dealt with it though, had it only been the wildlife that was climbing on top of each other with such abandon. But the fact that his family members insisted on participating in this rite of spring put him over the edge.
Edward tried to block out the constant sexual cacophony that inundated his mind. Not only did his extraordinary sense of hearing ensure that he heard every single intimate sound that went along with what Carlisle termed "special couple time," but the fact that he could read the six minds that were alternately fucking and being fucked meant that blissful ignorance was not so much an option.
He kicked the coffee table as he passed through his living room, frustrated by his lot. Television was out. It wasn't enough of a distraction. In fact, there were few ways Edward was able to reasonably mitigate the inundation.
For example, he could play the piano really, really loudly. If he played something complicated and dissonant enough, it temporarily distracted him from his amorous surroundings. And if he played something ridiculously cheesy, such as a bit of bad musical theater, and sang along, there was actually a chance the various couples coupling would cease their activities, get dressed, and emerge from their rooms to ask Edward to stop. (He didn't have the best voice.) This gave Edward, on average, a blissful seven minutes of mental quiet before his family members returned to their prior engagements. Even as much as Edward hated "Bushel and a Peck," it was worth it.
Another option was running away. Edward did this often. When his patience ran out, he would bolt from the house and run until he hit the ocean or the highway, at which he had to pause and look both ways before crossing at human speed, or even the Canadian border, which, despite the fact that he always carried his entirely believable, if completely fake passport, around with him this time of year, he still felt guilty crossing illegitimately. But Edward could only run to Canada and back so many times a day before becoming bored, lonely, and a bit uncomfortable due to the poor arch in his new sneakers. Plus, he didn't think the windblown look did very much for his hair.
Edward's final option was simply giving in to the situation at hand by taking things... in hand. After all, if he couldn't beat 'em, he could...beat it.
Granted, Edward didn't like this option very much, because he felt that he was succumbing to peer pressure. He wanted to rise above the rest of his coven, to be known as the sole Cullen who was human enough to deny his animal instinct to… thrust. And...merge. And perhaps...thrust again.
Aloud, Edward prided himself in his self-sufficiency and looked down upon the others in his adopted family for giving in to their baser instincts. But even he recognized it was a good thing he was the only mind reader in the house, because that was total bullshit. He wanted to fuck.
Edward swallowed. It was barely noon. He'd already visited the Pacific ocean, played all of Ligeti's etudes, sung the theme song from Oklahoma two dynamic levels higher than suggested, and pulled his cold pork more than once and he wasn't in the mood to do it again.
Of course, that last part wasn't 100% true. It was spring, and he was a vampire. Of course he was in the mood. But he refused to shift his stick again before midday lest another single vampire stumble across the Olympic peninsula and find him running on empty.
But let's face it. No vampire was going to cross his path. He didn't have that sort of luck. And Alice would have seen it coming. And in the meantime, Edward was left to his lonesome, his head overrun with images of parts he was starting to think he'd never experience except through the visions of others.
It was enough to make him decide to spend a little quality time with his right fist.