Author's Note: This is the first chapter of a long cross-over fic! My friend and I will be taking turns writing the chapters. It was an idea we got while thinking about how difficult it would be to be in a Vampire-Human Relationship in the real world... I love Watchmen and I love Twilight, so I made it a crossover! Hehe, hope you enjoy.
The sun reached its zenith and as the long, summer shadows began to recede into hollow pools of darkness beneath the feet of loiterers and travelers, a man handed another man a book.
"Hello again. Would you like a free book?"
For it was "Free-Book Day" in New York's Upper East Side, and he had been handing out literature since mid-morning. And as the sun rose higher, he began to weary of the heat and the questioning looks of Manhattanites, who handled his books as though they suspected anthrax might be hidden between the pages.
"I have one already," said the latter man, holding up a copy of the latest Twilight. On its cover lay the same man, half naked, chest exposed, glistening with sweat. In his palm he held an apple, and in his eyes a look of temptation and seduction.
"I'll trade you," the first muttered. He took the book from the second without asking, readily handing him a copy of The Odyssey in its place. His name was Adrian Veidt; he was tall, slender, and pale. His blonde hair and blue eyes made him Aryan, and the surrounding Light aura made him also unmistakably Human. The other smirked at this, and as Adrian's eyes glazed over, he did his best to suppress a longing sigh for the Adonis-like man decorating the cover of Twilight: Dusk Dream.
Taking notice, he flashed Adrian a perfect smile, his long canine teeth serving to confirm what his Dark aura had already suggested: Vampirism. He adroitly tapped the book Adrian had given him. "Not enough action. Total crap," he thought to himself, but as he glanced back at the fierce Human so openly admiring him, he couldn't help but smile once more.
"I loved it. Is there any way I could reward you for such kindness?" His every inflection tinged with charm, and to Adrian, he may as well have been speaking words from the spirit of Homer himself.
"...I also have the Alexander Pope translation in my car, if you would like to read that one as well? Do you speak Greek? I believe I have the original Greek version somewhere too..." He was not normally so awkward, and as he became aware of his digression, he quickly forced himself to a conclusion. "You don't have to do anything to reward me; I never expect anything in return. Seeing someone genuinely enjoy literature is enough."
Through out the speech, the man, whose name was Joe Cullen, only held the same broad smile still in the air, teeth glittering like the last drop of light before twilight evaporates into night. He was dark skinned, as if to match his dark aura, and his body was tall and built, reminiscent of the ancient warriors Adrian had always so admired in literature and art; his voice sonorous, like that of a commanding god.
He then snapped his fingers and a football appeared in his hands. With the grace of a trained athlete, he drew back and tossed the ball to Adrian, who could only blink in surprise as the ball hit him in the chest, though still managed to catch it on instinct. Next, Joe suddenly came charging, twice Adrian's weight, and six inches taller; his robust body toned and beautiful.
Needlessly, Adrian quite easily and happily allowed himself to be tackled, taking the opportunity to stare deep into dark eyes; the cloudless blue sky above fading into background, and the lingering sun framing Joe's head like a halo. His eyes seemed capable of penetrating into the very depths of Adrian's soul, and though neither were fully aware of it, their lips soon began gravitating towards one another, drawn like opposite electrical charges.
The sun sank westward, warming Adrian's cheek, and as somber church bells cracked once, Adrian suddenly broke away, pushing Joe off with surprising ease for someone so slight in appearance. He stood with wide, frantic eyes, brushing tousled hair back into place as best he could.
Joe looked hurt, and after a moment, Adrian began to explain with a voice only slightly lighter than usual, "Oh, Joe. We mustn't. Don't you understand? I'm a human, and you..." He stopped to look at the ground, but eventually forced himself to at least meet the other's eyes, "You're a vampire. What will people say?"
Joe Cullen's dark aura then shone, not alone, but together with the bright, enchanting aura of Adrian Veidt. To him the barriers suddenly meant nothing, the color of auras: nothing. Not when the grass had been so soft beneath them, the sun so warm on their skin, the air so calm, and Adrian so fucking fierce. That afternoon love belonged not to vampires, nor to humans, but to hearts, and the hearts of vampires beat just as much as the hearts of humans, and they love just as much.
"Adrian. I can't keep my eyes on you. I can't keep them off of you. You're like no human I've seen before. I thought that all your species was good for was a quick fling... But I don't want your blood! I want your love! All of it! Forget what they say! I love you, Adrian, and I will love no other human!"
Elsewhere, a Human corpse lies lifeless and drained of all blood in a cold, dark alley. She won't be found until late the next morning. Outside of town, an elderly vampire swings from a birch tree, a stake in his broken heart. His family will never know retribution. Someone drops a rose at the grave of a comrade, and in Brooklyn a human child asks why she can no longer play with the Von P. Diddys. But for a moment, in a field in Central Park, a human met vampire, and there was peace at last.
"And, God, Joe's lips are beautiful," Adrian thought.