A/N: A Vancha/Steve fic. This is slash. If you don't like that, don't read. Enjoy!

The sun had long rose, but Steve Leonard couldn't sleep. Even though he pretended to be, he wasn't completely comfortable with all these people in the building. They were his enemies, and though they all thought differently, believed the lies he had fed them, the Vampaneze Lord still couldn't help but imagine one of the vampires sneaking up on him when he slept and driving a rusty stake deep into his heart.

Steve shuddered and let out a soft irritated sigh, turning over on the couch until he was facing the boring white wall. The couch creaked noisily as he moved is if protesting. Damn thing was so old it was about to fall apart. He wanted a new one, but wasn't going to waste precious money that he could be using to buy weapons on it since he may be moving soon. And really, the Lord of the Vampaneze couldn't be lugging a couch around with him.

After a minute of laying like that, Steve turned again, and, to his annoyance, landed with a loud bang on the floor. The half-vampaneze cursed silently, wondering just what the hell he did to deserve this (oh right, quite a lot), and got up, trying to ignore the pain in his back. He would most likely have a dark bruise tomorrow. Another scar marking his beautiful skin. Damnit.

Tired of just lying around, waiting for sleep that didn't seem like it was going to come anytime soon, Steve walked over to the window and pulled the curtains back, looking out into the bright day. He hissed as the sunlight hit his tired eyes, but after a few seconds the pain had disappeared and he could stare out into the sunlight.

It was times like these he was glad he wasn't a full vampaneze. The sky was so blue... he'd never really taken time to notice the color before. Would he miss this when he finally turned into a full-fledged creature of the night? He sighed softly, turning away from the window and returning to the couch.

He stayed there for about forty seconds, then got up again, completely restless, and started pacing around the room. His feet echoed on the hard wooden floor, and for that he was glad. It was too damn quiet around here! Larten, Darren, Vancha, Debbie, and Harkat were in the building too, but were obviously all fast asleep, which he really wished he could do too, for his body ached and eyes drooped.

It had been a long night for Steve. He'd saved Darren, met Debbie, Vancha, and Harkat, and seen Larten again, all the while having to pretend he was on their side. Pretend to be good. It had been nerve racking, to say the least! He had to watch everything he said extra carefully, and make sure he didn't give anything away. Thank goodness he was such a good actor.

Steve smirked slightly. He'd fooled them well, hadn't he? They didn't suspect a thing. Stupid vampires. Though for some reason, even though he knew everything was going according to plan, he felt a bit uneasy, as if something was about to change very soon, something he couldn't control. Something that could ruin everything.

Steve frowned and tried to put that thought out of his head. What could happen? Nothing! Nothing was going to go wrong! No one suspected him, except maybe Larten, but that would change soon since the others had all placed their trust in him. Nothing could go wrong! Nothing! But he still couldn't shake that bad feeling.

With a sigh, Steve lay down again and closed his eyes once more. He may have fallen asleep at some point, may not have, but the next thing he knew he was wide awake and freezing. The Vampaneze Lord glanced at the window, but it was tightly shut. What the hell? He frowned, a bit spooked. He'd seen things like this happen in the many horror movies he used to watch as a kid, and whenever there was an unexpected breeze it meant nothing good.

Steve shook his head and curled up, wishing his imagination wasn't so damn interactive. There was absolutely nothing to be afraid of.




Footsteps. Coming this way. Narrowing his eyes, Steve scanned the room, waiting, body tense. Then before he could even blink an eye, he was looking up at a tall, rough man, hair green and messy, wearing dirty purple animal skins and no shoes.

Just blinking for a minute, he stared at the vampire who was towering over him. What was he doing out here at this time of day? Did he come out to kill him? Steve studied Vancha carefully. He didn't look like he had murderous intentions... in fact, with his drooping eyes and the yawn that just happened, the Vampire Prince looked like he was going to drop over any minute. Oh... could it be? Maybe his fall off the couch had awoken him...

"Is something wrong?" Steve finally asked, a bit freaked out that the vampire wasn't doing anything but looking down at him. Vancha's stare was rather creepy.

"Nah, just couldn't sleep," Vancha replied with a low chuckle. "Looks like you couldn't either." His eyes narrowed as he studied Steve closely, frowning slightly. "You're shivering," he observed, touching the half-vampaneze's arm. Steve couldn't help but flinch at the prince's touch, though it didn't seem like he was there to harm him in any way.

"Yeah," he finally muttered, averting his eyes from the vampire. "It's damn cold in here. Don't know where the hell the breeze is coming from." Steve looked around again, shaking his head.

Vancha nodded silently, then, without warning, sat down next to Steve, who was still lying sideways on the couch.

Steve blinked at him, opening his mouth to say something, something like how Vancha was invading his personal space, but for some reason his tongue wouldn't move. He just stared as the green-haired man lay down facing him.

Sighing, the Lord of the Vampaneze closed his eyes. He was too tired to care much. Plus, the extra body added warmth. Snuggling against the couch, his eyes closed and he began to drift to sleep once more.

That was until strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him close to a firm body. Steve let out a squeak of protest, ice blue eyes flying open to see Vancha holding him tightly.

"You said you were cold," the vampire muttered gruffly, gazing at Steve. The half-vampaneze couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Yeah, but..."

Vancha smirked and moved closer, face now inches away from Steve's, and the Vampaneze Lord could feel the prince's hot breath on his cheek and could just make out a tiny, faded scar near the Vancha's hairline. The scar made him look rather dashing, Steve thought absent mindedly. Like a brave warrior hero.

"Well I'm going to keep you warm," came Vancha's voice, jerking him back to reality. The man's tone left no room to protest. Usually Steve would have said something regardless, snarled some crude remark, but he felt strangely comfortable with the man's arms around him, and stayed silent.

Silent until he felt warm lips on his own. "What the hell?" Steve shouted, eyes flying open as he jerked away from Vancha.

"Kisses make you warmer," the Vampire Prince murmured innocently, though a playful grin danced on his lips.

Steve rolled his eyes, though he supposed he couldn't deny the kiss had made him feel somewhat warmer inside for a second.

"Fine... then do it again." As soon as the words were out of the Vampaneze Lord's mouth he froze in shock. Why the hell did he say that? Before he could take it back, Vancha's lips pressed against his again, rough but in a way somewhat soft.

Steve shifted to pull the other man closer, beginning to kiss back rather hesitantly. It really was warmer this way.

After a few more seconds, the two broke apart apart to catch their breath. Steve's eyes closed as he lay back, remembering the feel of Vancha's lips on his. It had felt so different, but not bad. In fact, it had felt pretty good. Comfortable, not strange. And best of all, warm.

As Steve began to fall asleep, he felt Vancha's lips touch he forehead gently. "Goodnight, Steve."

The Vampaneze Lord smiled faintly, snuggling against the prince. "Night, Vancha."