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wickedmilo · 3 years

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I’LL INVITE YOU IN | MILO & LUIS

PLACE: A Gala TIMING: A couple of months ago SUMMARY: Milo agrees to attend an event with Luis, and the two find the setting to be oddly intimate WRITING PARTNER: @ontheluis CONTENT WARNINGS: Addiction tw, alcohol tw

Luis’ footsteps were duly muffled on the intricate Ottoman rugs, all sound seeming to be soaked up by the thick window hangings and mahogany walls of this Harris Island manor. Everything he’d done for the syndicate thus far had been in the city's grimy underbelly, the kind of places the society liked to forget existed. None of the people he worked with seemed like they knew what silver spoon to use for what, Luis included. But here they were, attending a ball with some blue bloods in a place whose ceiling fixtures were probably worth more than his kidneys.

What did the boss want here? Luis had a feeling he didn’t want to know the kind of ‘discrete favors’ a monster like Vathnek Beckford was providing to White Crest’s upper crust.

Luis looked down at the ghoul-mark on the inside of his wrist, a misshapen scar from Vathnek’s claw that’d sealed their magical pact. The nauseous sense of accusation Luis felt on seeing it caused him to fiddle with his cufflinks and adjust his suit’s sleeves to cover the mark.

Luis entered one of the many lounges with thick sofas and smoking chairs. Exchanging nods of recognition with several fellow criminals masquerading as gentlemen, Luis went into one of the men’s fitting rooms and rapped softly on the wooden sliding door.

“Hey Milo? You good?”

Milo stared at the floor length mirror opposite him, completely devoid of his reflection, wondering, not for the first time, how he had managed to get himself into this. It wasn’t unusual for him to wind up in places he shouldn’t be. He had put himself in danger more times than he could ever hope to count, but this felt different somehow. When he had been human he had known the risks, or at the very least convinced himself that was true. He understood the chances of being mugged, or taken advantage of, or injured in some way. But he didn’t know this world, he didn’t understand the endless ways the evening could go wrong, and if he hadn’t started it with a cup of blood, and a pain pill, then that would likely be making him nervous. Instead he was curious, ready to throw himself into whatever was about to unfold. Tugging at the sleeves of the suit Luis had bought for him, it felt far more expensive than any item of clothing he had worn before. The Dracula cufflinks he had chosen to amuse himself were in stark contrast with the rest of the outfit. He almost wished he could see himself in it. Maybe he could take a few selfies before the end of the night. Letting out a quiet sigh in response to Luis’ question, he reached out to open the door for him, offering him a sheepish grin. “I’m good.” He confirmed, gesturing vaguely to the mirror, knowing his lack of a reflection would be incredibly obvious. How many other vampires were there currently in the room? Would anybody notice? Would anybody even care? “It’s just- fuck, I’ve been trying to tie this for like five minutes now and apparently I cant do it without a mirror…” Slipping the strip of material from around his neck, he handed Luis the tie, feeling both ridiculous, and amused by the prospect of what he was about to ask. “Any chance you want to do it for me?”

Dad had shown Luis how to tie a tie for church, the only time besides weddings and funerals where the Martinez family went in for nice clothes. Luis crossed the threshold into the small dressing room and slid the door shut behind him. Two walls were covered completely in mirrors while a dark wood closet and cushioned sofa occupied the other. He hadn’t completely understood what Milo meant until seeing only himself reflected in the mirrors.

Luis had to resist the dumbass impulse to poke Milo while looking into the mirror, wondering if his finger would vanish if he stuck it in Milo’s ear or something.

Luis was no scientist, but so many questions started popping into his head about what the hell was happening with photons here.

However he spared Milo ameture science hour, and slung the tie over his friend’s shoulders. “Thanks for coming here with me,” Luis murmured and glanced into Milo’s eyes before returning the silken knot. “I’ll uh...figure out how to make it up to you.”

Milo could almost pinpoint the moment Luis realised what he was talking about, the exact moment his friend’s gaze landed on the mirror and found only his own reflection staring back at them both. It would be comical if it wasn’t such a constant source of frustration for him. So he allowed a tired smile, pushing his hair back away from his face with no way of knowing whether the move had done anything to tame it. Maybe he would have to admit defeat and pull out his phone camera, though he always felt so ridiculous doing so. What if people thought he was filming a Tiktok? Honestly, he would rather die all over again. His smile growing exponentially when Luis took the tie and threw it over his shoulders, he couldn’t help catching his gaze. The close proximity felt strangely intimate, especially given the fact that the door to his dressing room was now closed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. And he appreciated that, he didn’t have that with many people.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes when Luis eventually lowered his gaze, he shook his head. This wasn’t the first time he had shown his gratitude, but as far as he was concerned he had no reason to thank him. “Look… you bought me a suit, if anything I should be thanking you.” He pointed out, intentionally keeping his tone lighthearted. He knew the room was filled with dangerous people, maybe his death was leading to him finding crazy new ways of being reckless, and self-destructive. But he was here entirely through his own choice, and in some twisted way he was excited. Not only was this a part of the world he had never been exposed to, underhand dealings, and intelligent power plays, this was a whole new part of the supernatural. And he was always desperate to learn more, always desperate to know. “It’s going to be fine… and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. I couldn’t exactly turn down a dinner date with Luis Martínez, could I?”

Luis couldn’t help but wonder about this situation if Milo and himself were both still human. Would they be preparing for some dance? Some fancy college donor reception? Would they just be nervous about some social or dating drama while getting suited up here, rather than whether Luis’ mob connections were about to get them both killed? When exactly had two perpetually stoned accidental monster kids gotten to the point where this was the new normal?

Luis knew deep down that Milo Summers was a predator, no matter how unthreatening that wholesome off-brand Draco Malfoy face seemed. Milo hadn’t asked to become a killer any more than Luis had, but the curses in their veins hadn't asked permission. Luis had been brought up to think of sin as something you chose, a temptation to stray from the honest clean life God intended human beings to lead. But Luis didn't have the chance to choose innocence, just as Milo now had to fight against the urge to rip the lifeblood out of people for an eternity. Empathy for the brokenness that came with loss of agency had turned a casual acquaintance of vice into something more.

But he actually needed Milo Summers the predator tonight. Luis knew just enough about the paranormal underworld to know he was walking into danger at this posh meeting between criminal outfits and rich clients, but not enough to really know exactly what form that danger would take. Luis needed another pair of eyes and someone to have his back that wasn’t also on Vathnek’s long list of indentured debtors. It wasn’t fair that Milo being a friendly murder-corpse made him a good candiate, but Luis would find a way to make it up to him later.

Milo’s assurance that he wanted to be here and broad smile evoked a reflection on Luis’ own face. The expression deepend in warmth at Milo’s teasing about a date. “Crime, nice clothes, and an upscale venue,” Luis replied airily as he attended to Milo’s tie. “I really do know how to show a guy a good time huh?”

The date thing tugged at the back of his mind, as Luis looped one end of the tie up by Milo’s neck and drew it down again, palpably aware of their closeness in here and how Luis could've brushed against the base skin of Milo’s neck if the mood struck him to be purposefully clumsy. The unsentimental part of his brain knew this wasn’t technically different then when they'd toked up in the dark of abandoned buildings together, but that didn’t stop it from feeling like something else entirely.

Yeah, there’d been times back when they’d known nothing about each other that Luis’ had considered offering to share more than pills with Milo for pleasant distraction without any strings attached. Ironically, coming to care for Milo on a deeper level had actually made Luis more hesitant. Luis didn’t have many connections left, let alone friendships, and he didn’t want to jeopardize what he had with Milo. Sure, it didn’t make a whole lot of sense, especially since Luis would’ve happily added benefits to friendship if Milo had asked. However, dread of seeing confused surprise in Milo’s eyes or feeling an unrepairable change in their emotional relationship after sharing that intensely physical part of himself, kept Luis content with the comfortable wingman status quo.

Besides, he should probably focus on the party with the monster mobsters.

Luis stepped back and looked Milo over before reaching out to straighten his collar and a shoulder to keep things even. “Well you’re in luck,” he continued, knowing that Milo didn’t want yet another rehash of the ‘this is very dangerous thank you’ routine. “There’s legit blood wine being served, aged with additives and everything.”

Milo couldn’t be sure what Luis was thinking about but the expression on his face seemed deep, and distracted. He was so clearly lost in his head, and he was hesitant to interrupt what he could only assume was some kind of personal reflection. He had been there, hadn’t he? He found situations like this brought out an introspective side of himself that for the most part lay abandoned and forgotten, pushed away by substances, and his own sheer force of will. There was something about the quiet of the changing room, knowing what lay beyond it, knowing what the evening held in store for them both, that felt vulnerable. For a brief moment in time they were kids again, not two people who had been forced to grow up, who had been attacked against their will, and left to deal with the trauma. Luis too had become the very monster responsible for tearing into his flesh. It was something they shared; a dark, and twisted connection. As terrible as it was, he couldn’t help feeling grateful that his friend was able to understand. Wasn’t that why they had become so close? “Hm,” he hummed quietly in amusement, offering Luis a smile as he continued to tug at the tie around his neck. “Usually it’s just crime on its own, so… a nice change of pace.” He teased, raising his eyebrows as his company stepped back to survey his work. Resisting the urge to shrink in on himself, he feigned confidence, holding out his arms, and turning on the spot. “So?” His smile grew, and he pointedly caught Luis’ eye. “Am I presentable?”

Glancing towards the closest mirror, it was a habit he still hadn’t managed to break, and he stared at the place where he should be standing, annoyed by the fact that he couldn’t see himself. He wasn’t sure why being a vampire needed to come with so many minor inconveniences. Weren’t the major ones enough when it came to making a person suffer? A frustrated huff of breath escaping him, he refused to let his demeanour fade, turning back to Luis with a shameless grin fixed firmly in place. “Blood wine?” He echoed. “I don’t know if I could drink that without sitting in a dark dusty castle somewhere- probably Transylvania. I feel like it has to be Transylvania.” He pictured himself sitting atop an old wooden coffin, lightning storming outside as his cape fell around him, and he sipped blood wine from a beautifully ornate glass. It was outright laughable, but it only made him more eager to try the drink. “Jeez, I’m not even pretentious enough to drink regular wine.” They both knew that wasn’t true, if it had an alcohol content then he was game, but the comment was intended to make Luis laugh. Whether or not it was accurate didn’t feel relevant right now. What mattered was the fact that they were together. What mattered was the fact that, no matter what happened tonight, or on any other night, they were always going to have each other.

Luis instinctively looked with Milo towards the mirror, the reflex of following another person’s gaze overtaking him before he realized the dumbassery of it. “More than presentable,” he assured. It was the truth, tacky buttons aside, Milo was one of those guys who “cleaned up well” as Grandma Martinez would say.

Luis chuckled as Milo turned the conversation towards levity. In truth, Luis had never appreciated wine before being bitten. Ever since his sense of smell had become doggishly keen, all tastes had become more intense. Most colors had faded from Luis’ vision, but flavors had become so complex and distinct that even something boringly bougie like wine now made sense to him.

But it seemed real assholely to share that anecdote with a dude who couldn’t eat and taste as much anymore, so Luis kept that to himself.

“Hey Milo I got something for you..real quick.”

Luis took a handkerchief from his pocket and began to unwrap it. On the white cloth was a switchblade, a lightweight yet viciously edged toll of backalley violence. Luis took up the small flip-knife with his free-hand. Immediately, veins of irritation and necrosis began to climb up the tips of the werewolf’s fingers from where he touched the silver knife.

“I’m not the only one here that silver hurts,” Luis explained in a low voice as he offered the switchblade to Milo, pale metal gleaming in dressing room lights. “Just in case.”

Milo caught the gaze of Luis’ reflection although he knew Luis wouldn’t be able to see him, smiling sheepishly. It wasn’t often he was deemed presentable, let alone more than presentable. He almost felt like a different person, a new person. Not the Milo who passed out in gutters, and crashed in dirty apartments with no memory of how he had gotten to them. This was the Milo who combed his hair, who made the effort to shave, who scrubbed his face with cleanser, and actually worried about creasing his clothes. Raising his eyebrows in a silent question, he turned back to Luis, curious about a potential gift. It was only as his friend carefully unfolded a handkerchief that he realised the gift wasn’t something he wanted. The blade was short, and sharp, his clear vision allowing him to see just how deadly the edge of it was. “I-” He broke off, every instinct telling him to reject the offer, to insist Luis keep it himself. He wasn’t a violent person, it didn’t come naturally to him. He was far more comfortable on the sidelines, or actively running from a fight. But he knew that wasn’t why Luis had asked him to come, he knew they both needed to be smart tonight. Smart, observant, and prepared. As much as he hated to admit it, he might need the knife. He might have to use it. Why was the prospect of danger only ever fun until it became real?

Pushing his glasses up his nose, he watched as Luis handled the weapon, staring for a second too long as his body began to react to the silver. He wanted to ask whether it burned but the werewolf wasn’t showing any sign of pain. Regardless, a new instinct took over, and he reached out to snatch it away, hoping to spare his company from any further damage. “You didn’t have to touch it!” He insisted. “Drama queen.” He added, a smile still tugging at his lips. Looking down at the knife, it felt so alien, so uncomfortable in his hands. But he knew he was in no place to set it down, not now. “Are you sure?” He asked quietly, his smile fading, replaced by a serious expression. What they were walking into, as exciting as it felt, was no joke. “About- y’know, all of this?”

“I uh,” it seemed to occur belatedly to the werewolf that he could have just picked the knife up in the kerchief and handed it over. “Didn’t think about…,” Luis shrugged while his features gave way to a broad sheepish smile, dimples winking into existence on his cheeks.

But the moment of bashful levity passed as Milo succumbed to seriousness. “Yeah,” Luis answered. “I can’t keep hurting people like this I uh.”

The werewolf ran a hand through his sandy hair, some strands coming loose as a nervous habit quickly undid his efforts to slick it all back into presentableness. “I don’t know how you’re handling your change Milo but I’m…”

Why was he confessing this now? This wasn’t the time! Shit, but the worlds felt like they needed to come out now. But how could he burden Milo with one more thing to worry about when they were about to walk into danger? It felt selfish. “Losing me, like what made me human,” Luis confessed anyway, turning to face the mirror briefly being unsettled by the sight of his own reflection talking to himself alone in an empty room. “I can’t control any of it,”

The phone in Luis’ pocket buzzed but he ignored it, briefly pacing in the small dressing room like a caged beast chained in an evening suit. It seemed to take Luis a minute to realize that the stress was letting out the thing inside of him. The werewolf paused, fighting down the burst of freneticism as his shoulders rose and fell with long steady breaths.

“Milo,” Luis began when his mind was more still. “I’m...uh..I’m one of the ones the Hunters talk about,” the rabid wolf confessed quietly.

Luis swallowed letting the implication speak for itself. “I don’t want to die,” he assured. “But I can’t keep waking up covered in blood either.” Self-revulsion and determination made a painful interplay across Luis' face but the later seemed to win out, a long exhale adding steel back into the young man’s posture. “That’s why I’m doing all this, risking getting mixed up with these people,” the budding criminal insisted.

“Vathek’s got a cure,” Luis asserted with the quiet fervor of the truly desperate, those souls who’ve been pushed so far past the breaking point that now nothing could be too impossible or extreme to risk everything for. “And if I have to deal with mobster politics and do some sick stuff now so I don’t have to ever kill anybody else ever again for the rest of my life? Yeah, I’m in.”

The phone in Luis’ pocket buzzed insistently again, signalling the approach of the deadly dinner date.

Luis tried to meet Milo’s gaze and moved away from the door in case his friend wanted to get the hell out after everything he’d shared. “I didn’t want you to go in there with the wrong idea about me, what I really am, or why I’m doing this,” the killer said. “If you're not comfortable now that you know it, and need to head out, like that's ok. I’ll understand,” Luis promised.

Milo smiled at Luis, comforted by the fact that he seemed to be clumsy and unsure of his own condition. It was something they shared, something they had in common, and it made his friend infinitely more likeable. “I do the same thing sometimes.” He admitted. “I’ve had to stop halfway through opening the curtains before, it’s this weird instinct to let in the sunlight… I guess it’s just what humans do. You don’t even think about it.” As quickly as his smile appeared, it began to fade, stolen by the change in atmosphere, by the sudden, unfamiliar look in Luis’ eye. It was the first time he had ever heard Luis explicitly confess to hurting others, and he knew he needed to be careful when it came to his reaction. The information was personal, Luis didn’t have to share it, no doubt he would be watching to see whether he looked horrified, or upset, or disgusted by the revelation. Waiting patiently as he ran a hand through his hair, creating a tousled look that almost seemed intentional, he eventually stepped forward, reaching up to brush a few strands back into place. His friend’s hair was soft, and every time he ran his fingers through it waves of his natural scent seemed to roll off of him. But it wasn’t unpleasant, quite the contrary. “It’s okay.” He said quietly, although he wasn’t sure it was fair of him. He wanted it to be okay, but what about Luis’ victims? The people who had lost their lives to his wolf?

Letting out a gentle sigh, he slipped the knife into his pocket before lowering his arms, stepping back again so that he could properly see his company. The man before him looked so broken, so lost, he wanted to wrap him in his arms and hold him until he found a way to put himself back together. He still wasn’t sure the cure was real, but it definitely seemed more possible than a cure for vampirism. He was dead, Luis’ body had only changed. Could it be treated like an illness? Could it be reversed somehow? Why didn’t more people know about a cure if there was one in existence? He had so many questions, but he held his tongue. Luis needed support, not doubt. Faltering briefly as he heard his phone buzz, he swallowed, debating how much he wanted to tell him. “Luis… when you lose control, that isn’t your fault, you know that, right? I know it’s your body, but you aren’t responsible. You don’t know how I’m handling my change because- because if I talk about it I feel like I’m going to go insane. But you aren’t alone in feeling… I don’t know… hopeless.” Glancing up at the mirror, at the place where his reflection was supposed to be, he frowned, turning away from it so that he could move to sit on the cushioned bench lining the wall. Patting the space beside him, he encouraged Luis to sit down too, even though he had a feeling they were running out of time.

“When I woke up… I didn’t know what I was, or even what had happened. I just knew I felt… really fucking terrible. I hid in an alleyway, railed my entire stash- I kept thinking this is the worst comedown of my life...” Laughing bitterly at his own ridiculous assumption, he shook his head. If only it had been a comedown. “It got late, people started showing up for the clubs, and bars, and one person- they probably thought I was tweaking or some shit- they tried to help me. The next thing I know they’re-” He broke off, choking on his words as his vision became blurred by tears. Brushing them away with the sleeve of his suit jacket, he steeled himself. It was the first time he was ever saying them out loud, fully letting somebody know the true extent of the damage he had caused. And it was far more painful than he ever could have anticipated. “I watched them die, I’ll never get the image out of my head… and all I could think about was drinking their blood. I’d just killed them, I’d just drained them of their blood, and all I could think about were the few drops that I’d missed. If another vampire hadn’t found me I don’t think I would have stopped. I probably wouldn’t even have noticed that they were…” He exhaled, his breath shaky as more tears began to run down his cheeks. “It took me so long to stop blaming myself, but the truth is… if whoever did this to me had chosen to stick around, it wouldn’t have happened. I didn’t know what I was doing, it wasn’t my fault. And now that I know how this works, I’m making an effort to ensure it never happens again. You’re doing everything you can, Luis… you aren’t a bad person. The blood isn’t on your hands, not in the that way you think it is.”

“I have the power to stop the killing,” Luis said finally after a time staring blankly at a mahogany wall while Milo spoke. “At any time I could’ve put an end to it and saved so many more lives.” He swallowed down the tenseness in his throat. “But I’ve been too much of a fuckin coward, and other innocent people have kept paying for it with their lives.”

Luis turned his head to look at the vampire beside him, features steeled with the bleak strength that comes from looking self-annihilation directly in the face, perhaps holding its gaze for far longer than was healthy. Already reckless even before having every emotion dialled up to a fever pitch by lycanthropy, it hadn’t taken Luis Martinez long to realize that so many more people would be alive right now if someone had put a silver bullet in him early on.

“It isn’t about if it’s my fault,” claimed one young killer to another. “It’s about the people who’re being hurt. Does me being innocent or guilty do anything for the grieving families? I could be completely blameless but the people I ate and keep eating will still have been torn apart by a monster,” Luis said.

He let out a long shuddering breath before saying the part that probably should have been left unsaid. “Our lives aren’t worth any more than any other person,” the lapsed Catholic asserted. “So many of the supernaturals I’ve met make excuses, they kill people all the time but then go and on about how they are real victims, that they can’t be judged for they can’t control,” said the fledgling werewolf who’d perhaps spent too much time among fellow predators in the Bloody Stake. “Human lives are just expendable extras to them now, they’ll get all upset when a supernatural gets killed, but then shrug off slaughtering a buncha humans like it's somehow not as bad.”

“I don’t want to get that far gone,” Luis insisted to Milo, words becoming more heated and erratic as the normally amiable young man got too close to the spiritual unravelling inside of him. ‘But I can feel myself slipping...I can’t...remember their faces like I used to. The more I kill like...the more I acclimate to it.”

Although along the way Luis Martinez had come to hold onto his remorse, that capacity for recognizing the essential humanity of his victims, as the anchor to his own personhood. But matter how empathetic you are, doing anything enough times and it starts to lose impact, and Luis had done a lifetime of killing in the space of a year. As he grew numb to death, Luis became ever more unmoored from his sense of self.

Luis reached up to brush away some tears from Milo’s face if the other guy let him. “Thank you Milo,” he said softly, only able to guess at how much it took Milo to admit to all that. “I appreciate it man like...seriously,” he said with any scorn for his companion’s breakdown. “I don’t think you're a bad person either,” Luis assured. “I’m trying to find a way to keep that from happening again,” he gave a toothy smile that hinted at bitterness around the edges. “And I’m choosing the one that makes sure we can still do that roadtrip later,” Luis teased, gentle humor hiding the reassurance that he had chosen this road of vice and moral compromises over the lethal purity of a final alternative.

“That’s not fair, Luis.” Milo said, his voice barely louder than a whisper as he considered the terrifying implication behind his friend's words. Would the world be better without him? Without either of them? You could use that perspective to force so many things, to blame so many people for accidents, and mistakes that were far, far beyond their control. “You can’t think like that…” He trailed off, unsure of what else to say. Luis was more than capable of thinking in such a way, and he was absolutely powerless to stop it. He had his reasons, and he couldn’t imagine living through the horrors he had suffered. He had witnessed one person die at his own hands. Would he be okay, would he still be functioning if it wasn’t just one person. What if it was two people? Or three? Or five? Or ten? At what point did it become too much? At what point did the horror consume you? “I don’t think you’re a monster…” Holding Luis’ gaze for as long as he was able to, he finally looked away, staring down at his hands as he thought about his life, and what it was worth now that he had taken somebody else’s. Nothing was going to change the fact that he had killed somebody decent, somebody willing to help a stranger. Why did he of all people deserve to still be here? Still be somewhat alive, somewhat living...

“You aren’t that far gone…” He murmured. “We aren’t that far gone.” Chewing on his bottom lip, it hurt to hear Luis talking about becoming so desensitised. But not because he was considering the forgotten victims. Selfishly, he was upset because it told him just how much his friend had experienced. Just how desperate his brain was to stop processing the trauma of his situation. His expression softening, he tilted his head, looking back up at Luis as he brushed away his tears. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and definitely not unwelcome. It felt good to know he wasn’t being seen as a terrible person. That Luis was still willing to touch him, to be near him. It would be contradictory if he decided otherwise, but sometimes it was so easy to believe he was a waste of time. People could definitely do better than Milo Summers, and it often only felt like a matter of time before they realised that. “You don’t?” He asked, unashamedly needing the confirmation. If he could ask Luis to say it a thousand times over, then he would. “You’re the first person I’ve ever… I’ve never talked about it before. I still don’t know how to get over it… I’m not even sure I want to. Does that- does that sound stupid?” Offering a weak smile in return, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, tugging at his shirtsleeves in an attempt to compose himself. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you… you know I will.” He insisted, needing Luis to know he would always be there for him. It felt like the very least he could offer. “Hm… when you’re human again, you’re not going to want to go on a road trip with a vampire.” He was half teasing, though part of him felt guilty for encouraging what was potentially false hope. Another part of him was worried what he was saying might be true. If Luis ever became human, he would be mad not to put as much distance as he could between himself and the world of the supernatural. “Don’t let me hold you back.”

“No,” Luis shook his head at the admission. “It doesn’t sound stupid,” he assured. “Thank you for trusting me.”

There’s been a time where Luis’ had been clear, as open and bright as the sky over his father’s ranch. Honesty, hard work, love, and faith has been enough. If you kept to these things, you’d always find your way home.

Maybe back then, Luis would’ve been pretty sure what kind of person Milo was. His heart had been clean and the thought of taking another life was unthinkable.

But now? Everything seemed like a fog he was stumbling through, looking for a blue sky to show him the way but only sinking deeper into grim moral compromises.

Was Luis unable to condemn Milo because of empathy, or was Luis just so totally lost that he couldn’t tell right from wrong? Did Milo and Luis deserve to take up space in the world if it cost others lives? How could Luis justify allying with criminals simply for hope of a cure? Was there moral weight in any of this, or just desperation searching for answers that didn’t exist?

All Luis knew is that dad once said you have to keep walking in a snowstorm, because if you lay down you're as good as dead. Life right now was a blizzard, and all Luis could do was keep walking no matter what, and have faith his feet would find their way home.

“Milo when I’m human, I am going to take you south on a road trip,” Luis reiterated stubbornly, accepting the risk even in some future time where he might be powerless against Milo should his friend lose control. “We’ll go to my place in Texas…and I’ll invite you in,” Luis finished with slow emphasis on the words, a promise to wager his safety for the sake of trust.

Tonight Milo was risking everything for Luis’ humanity. Why would Luis hold anything back in return?

His phone buzzed again. Time to face the serpent’s nest.

“You won’t hold me back,” Luis said, momentarily squeezing Milo’s shoulder before rising and giving himself one last look-over in the mirror. Luis straightened his collar and painted on a carefree smile, the look of a better man who never felt lost.

“C’mon dude, can’t wait to seem them shit themselves when they see your lapels.”

#c:luis #milo and luis #drug tw #addiction tw #alcohol tw

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wickedmilo · 3 years

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NORMAL IS OUT OF STOCK | MILO & LUIS

PLACE: Nightshade Market TIMING: 10:00 PM SUMMARY: Luis takes Milo to the Nightshade Market, and Milo makes some unexpected friends WRITING PARTNER: @ontheluis CONTENT WARNINGS: Addiction, drugs, brief mention of NSFW themes

The last rays of Friday’s sunset were fading over the horizon as Luis led the way to where the Nightshade Farmer’s Market was getting started. Strings of lights were hung across the stalls and poles, brightening the dusk like an oasis of radiance in the approaching night. Elephant ears, fresh fruit, baked bread, and other organic market fare were sold alongside selections of more morbid fare.

“A friend showed me the Nightshade Market,” Luis explained as they strode through the grassy field toward the island of tents and lights. “Supposedly it was started by a vampire farmer and since then people like us come here to buy fresh stuff that's normally hard to get.”

It was only the second that Luis had smelled so many werewolves together in one place. His eyes strayed to families and children cooking marshmallows around campfires just outside of the market proper. Luis knew it shouldn’t surprise him to see kids. Like werewolves could obviously love, screw, and get pregnant so why wouldn’t they have families? But Luis had only experienced his lycanthropy as a source of slaughter and pain. Putting that together with kids in his head felt deeply wrong in a way he knew was illogical, but couldn’t quite shake.

As they began to approach the market, Milo found himself wondering why he hadn’t asked Luis about this before. It had only been a week since he had learned of his friend’s true nature, but that week alone had made it very clear Luis did know more than him. Albeit only a little, and maybe not in the way he had been expecting him to. It seemed he still had an awful lot to discover when it came to other members of the supernatural community, they were in that one together, at least. He could only assume working for somebody promising a cure for Lycanthropy had opened doors, had led him to various locations he wouldn’t otherwise have discovered. “A friend?” He asked curiously, figuring maybe he had been wrong in his assumption. “Wait- a vampire farmer?” It was ridiculous how saying things like that no longer felt ridiculous. “As in a vampire growing vegetables he couldn’t even eat? Or a vampire raising animals he was planning to drain of blood?” He wasn’t entirely sure why it mattered. Glancing around, feeling a little on edge, even as he fought to appear relaxed, and comfortable, it wasn’t lost on him how many scents he couldn’t recognise, and how many scents he could.

There were werewolves here, they had to be surrounded. And definitely other vampires. Somebody was selling blood, or drinking blood, and as they made their way further into the crowd he realised that was definitely not something to be startled about. “Fresh stuff like… blood?” He asked, unable to help himself. “And what about other things?” He tried to sound casual, although Luis was already aware of his interest in substances. “Like the drugs… the supernatural ones? Is this where you can buy them?” Faltering as they wandered by a family, he tore his gaze away from them before they could notice him staring. It was so jarring, thinking of children growing up in this world instead of being raised to believe it was entirely fictional. Were they happy? Were they healthy? Did that entirely depend on their species? “How many times have you been here? It’s not… dangerous, right?”

“Another werewolf,” Luis clarified but didn’t provide Alcher’s name, “one of my….” He caught himself right before mentioning a pack. It’d been so insidiously natural to immediately think of himself as part of something he wished to reject. “And uh honestly dude I have no idea,” he admitted amiably the subject of a Nightshade Market’s alleged founder. “Maybe they grew blood veggies? There’s all kinds of weird stuff here.”

They passed a stall owned by an incredibly slender woman with bright yellow eyes and a forked tongue that was a bit too convincing to be wholly the result of modification surgery. She beckoned to the pair and pointed to cages full of weasels, teeming mice, chirping crickets, and plump fish drifting about transparent tanks whose glass reflected the market lights. “All quite healthy,” she assured Luis as if having an inkling he was the sort of being inclined towards raw animal meat. “See anything you like?”

Luis squatted down in front of the tanks to peer at their piscine occupants. “Mhm, blood or live mice,” he answered Milo with a hint of a smirk. “This is more of a family friendly place...well...uh,” he amended in a murmur, “friendly by like wolf people kid standards I guess.”

Luis watched the drifting fish and mice climbing over themselves in their cages, listening to their tiny rapid heartbeats. “Like I said, it's more family friendly-like but later near the market’s end there’ll be a guy to talk to.” There was a slight twinge of guilt on infringing upon the wholesomeness of a place Alcher had shown him during an attempt to bond over a gentler part of the paranormal night.

“Safe yeah, apparently they got spotters to watch out for monster hunters, but like,” Luis glanced at the milling throngs of people who smelled doggy, had reptilian musk, or lacked heartbeats. Couples exchanged coy bites of cow hearts while children dashed amongst the stalls with very tooth grins. “I think most people just don’t make trouble here.”

Milo noticed the way Luis faltered but made no effort to push him. Despite now knowing the truth about each other, there was an element to their friendship that was vulnerable, that made him feel exposed. No doubt, Luis was feeling the same way, still in the habit of catching himself before saying certain things. “Okay, maybe a month ago I would have told you that’s an insane idea, but now…” He laughed, shaking his head. Now, the idea of vegetable blood felt like a genuine possibility. Following Luis’ lead as they were both encouraged to look at a stall run by a woman who definitely, definitely wasn’t human, he eyed her wares with a degree of hesitance. He didn’t know this world, it all felt so alien to him. Part of him felt half convinced just looking at someone the wrong way might get him killed… again. He wanted to ask Luis what people used live mice and fish for, but decided against making it obvious he didn’t belong. Instead, he crouched too, his attention drawn to two mice in a glass jar, separated from the others. The scuttling of their paws against the glass, the humming of their hearts, beating impossibly fast inside their chests, it was soothing. They were so delicate, so innocent looking. He knew what it felt like to be trapped like that, to feel as though you were living inside a bubble. He was struck by a sudden, and overwhelming urge to help them. “Why are these two alone?” He asked the woman, unable to help himself. She grunted, a shrug accompanying her response.

“Runts.” She muttered. “No good for some people… too weak.” Milo nodded, chewing thoughtfully on his bottom lip. He knew how that felt too. He had been written off as weak, and worthless by far too many people in his life. Largely due to the decisions he made, but it didn’t stop a spark of empathy from igniting within his chest. Forcing himself not to get too distracted, he listened to Luis, attempting to process his words. He couldn’t imagine anybody labelling this place as family friendly. Apparently the human definition was far more sensitive. Catching his eye at the mention of people waiting around for the market to close, he held his tongue for the second time. It was best not to look too eager, or excited, to frame his interest as casual. Besides, he was acutely aware of the reptilian woman still watching them, waiting for them to make a potential purchase. Even in the regular world he was smart enough to know you didn’t shout about picking up. Assured by the knowledge the market was free from hunters, and slayers, he carefully got to his feet, absentmindedly brushing down his sweater.

“Hey, do they use regular money here?” He asked Luis, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “You don’t pay with like, a fucking blood pact or something?”

“The small ones? You're not feeling hungry,” asked Luis, not yet comprehending that Milo might be buying pets instead of snacks.

Luis was momentarily distracted by the gaze of a young woman about he and Milo’s age that passed by, laughing with her friends. She paused and gave Luis a once over, which he returned. He couldn’t help but notice the way the market lights framed her face, and grin stupidly in sheepish appreciation at the way she unabashedly checked him out, the bold firm set of her features betraying no sign of shyness or shame. She moved with the causal self-assured grace of one who’d been born a predator and grown up embracing it.

She felt right somehow, like they already knew so much about each other. A suggestive twitch of her smile and cock of the head that sent dark cascading over one claw-scarred shoulder asked Luis to come over in not so many words. As his blood went hot and tunnel vision crept in, Luis’ yearned to just…

In an instant Luis realized what she was, why she felt right, and that he was probably making eyes with another killer who also woke up surrounded by corpses.

Horniness became self-revulsion in an instant.

Luis broke eye contact and turned away, trying to push away thoughts of doing primal things in the woods over yonder and focus on what Milo had just asked. “Oh uh...uh,” he swallowed, trying to focus. “No we use real money here, blood pact stuff is in other places,” Luis said, realizing belatedly he should have laughed at that, before looked down at the small oddly shaped symbol on his wrist where the bosses’ claw had sealed their agreement.

Milo raised his eyebrows, shooting Luis a pointed look. If he was being entirely honest, he was always hungry. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t had a burning desire to drink blood, a desperation to feed. But it only ever became truly apparent when he thought about it, when something drew his attention to it. He supposed he had Harsh and his precious supply of blood bags for that. Now that he had experienced being able to drink when he wanted to, he wasn’t sure he would be able to go back to not knowing when his next meal might be, scrounging in the woods for animals he had a chance of being able to catch. “Even if I was, I don’t think a mouse would make much of a difference.” He admitted, even more aware of the scent of blood being carried towards him on the breeze. Where was it coming from? Realising, in his own distraction, he had allowed Luis to become equally as distracted, he followed his friend’s gaze to an attractive girl around their own age. Even from this distance he could smell what she was, it was obvious Luis would also be able to. She shamelessly smiled at Luis, gesturing for him to join her, and he watched in disbelief as Luis turned away.

“Okay, firstly, I’m fine with Heterosexuality, just don’t shove it down my throat.” He teased, grinning easily at his friend. “Secondly, please don’t abandon me here to get laid.” He added, thinking about how terrified he would be without somebody who at least knew where they were going by his side. “And finally, she was totally hitting on you, are you seriously telling me you aren’t even going to get her number?” His expression brightening when he was told the currency was just regular US Dollars, he wasn’t fazed by the serious mention of blood pacts. Missing the way his friend stared down at the symbol on his wrist, Milo asked the woman behind the table how much she wanted for the two little mice, and hurried to hand over his cash. Picking up the jar, he couldn’t help feeling a surge of protectiveness for them both as they stared at him through the glass. Maybe this was what he needed. Some animals to take care of, two vulnerable creatures who were going to rely on him for all of their needs. He could focus on them, he could nurture them. And in turn they would help him to prove that he wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t cold, and callous, and dead. He was very much capable of harbouring life, of celebrating it. “Aren’t they sweet?” He asked Luis, holding them up so that he could look at them. “Hey, we should probably stop by a pet store after this… I don’t have anywhere to keep them.”

Color flushed into Luis’ cheeks and neck, his freckles stark flecks on brown on spreading rosy awkward. “I uh,” Milo’s teasing brought out a smile that helped break through the contradiction of attraction and aversion messing with Luis’ head. “Sorry didn’t mean to horndog on you there, I uh...got distracted but I’m not going to leave you hanging for some rando girl or guy here.” he ran hand through his sandy hair with a shake of the head.

“The more chill I am with...uh...being around,” Luis euphemized, “people like me the harder it’ll be to leave that behind and I’m afraid I’ll give in the wolf if i'm too comfortable like this,” claimed the young werewolf, as if each scrap of comfort and happiness among his new people was a temptation he needed to resist.

“So nah, best I don’t ask for her number,” Luis said, despite a pained expression and glance back over his shoulder suggesting an inner contradiction.

Luis peered at the mouse jar. “Mhm,” allowed the guy used to farm cats being bought to kill these things. But hey if Milo loves them whatever. “Yeah we could do that.”

Luis stopped by a stall with coolers full of hearts amongst other organs. Hearts of many sizes and species were for sale. The werewolf’s eyes strained to those that looked suspiciously human but settled instead for ordering a selection of cow and pig hearts from the a butcher who brutally chiseled frame might’ve been well suited for ripping them out still beating.

Milo’s grin widened at the sight of Luis’ blood. He could smell it as it rushed to the surface of his skin, giving away his embarrassment at being caught out. “Well, as long as you’re not about to leave me hanging.” He said, his eyes shining with mischief. It didn’t take long for his humour to fade though, as Luis began to elaborate on why he hadn’t approached the girl. It was a stark reminder of how different their situations were. Luis was looking for a way out, a way to reverse what he was and go back to life as a human. It made sense he didn’t want to get close to people, or too used to the supernatural world. Whereas he was the opposite. This was his life now, whether he liked it or not. He had no choice but to get used to it, to throw himself into it headfirst. “I get it.” He said quietly, letting him know he didn’t need to keep talking about it if he wasn’t comfortable. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t even… sometimes I forget this isn’t forever for you. It’s weird.” He wasn’t entirely convinced that there was such a thing as a cure for Lycanthropy, but for his friend’s benefit he was going to believe. Or at the very least, try to.

Clutching the jar to his chest, he glanced down to make sure there was sufficient air flow through the holes in the lid. It was strange, holding a pair of animals that could now be considered his. He had grown up in a household that saw pets as an unnecessary burden. And here he was, with two of his very own. He felt almost childlike in his excitement, for a brief moment the quest for drugs was forgotten, replaced by a quest for cages, and chew toys, and water bottles. Following Luis, unable to blame him for his disinterest in the mice, he watched as he purchased some questionable meat from a butcher. The thought of it made him want to wrinkle his nose, but he would be lying if he said the blood didn’t smell incredibly appealing. His old human nature at war with his new appetite. Thinking back on his conversations with Luis and Orion, he wondered whether he would be able to enjoy a bloody steak with his new tastebuds. “So, hearts, huh?” He asked as they began to walk away. “Is that a thing, or like… just personal taste?”

It was Luis’ turn to smile at his friend's question. “Some people at work asked me to pick some up” the werewolf explained as if this were the equivalent of a Starbucks run amongst paranormal carnivores. “They're harder to get then like slabs of beef and stuff, but yeah for some people they are like a delicacy or whatever.” In truth, Luis liked them when they were still warm and full of life, but that was just another thing he hated about the creature he’d become.

It felt weird to have actual money at his disposal after so long on the road. The syndicate paid well even if Luis knew each bill represented something he’d spent the rest of his life regretting.

Whatever, it's not like burning the money would stop that stuff from happening, or make it any less necessary for getting his humanity back.

After the hearts had been secured in bags of ice, Luis led the ward to an elegant pavilion of black silk strung with lights. The interior of the black tent was filled with antique medicine cabinets from the victorian era. On those weathered shelves were row up row of blood vials, each with stylized labels expounding upon the particular virtues of their contents.

The stall own was a tall reedy figure in a ratty suit two centuries out of date and a safari hat from which hung a silk veil that completely obscured their features.

“Get whatever you want man,” Luis insisted, “I just had payday so I can spot you if you need it.”

Milo laughed, unable to help himself. “Of course they did.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, amused by how casual Luis managed to make the comment sound. He supposed it was the equivalent of a coffee run when you were working for supernatural creatures. “Yeah, I can imagine walking into a butcher shop and asking for a bunch of hearts might get you some weird fucking looks.” He laughed again, the sound dying in his throat as he was overcome by a fresh wave of curiosity. Following his friend, he ducked inside a black silk tent that looked far more mysterious, and extravagant than the others. He realised this was where the scent of blood had been coming from. His throat felt dry, closing up as he struggled to fight against a sudden, powerful thirst. The space was lined with delicate shelves, row upon row of glass vials holding various types of blood. Different colours, different levels of viscosity, different smells… It was overwhelming trying to dissect them all so he began to carefully read every label. Fae blood, human blood, hunter blood, slayer blood. He swallowed, trying not to think about how the blood had been drawn. He couldn’t imagine any slayer or hunter willingly offering to open a vein. Not if Dani was anything to go by. Maybe Orion would, if he knew it might help somebody in need, but Orion was a very special case. It didn’t take a genius to work that one out.

He was very aware of the strange store owner following his movements, and he was unnerved by the fact that he couldn’t see their eyes. “What?” He asked, turning back to Luis. He wasn’t even sure where to begin. He didn’t know what the purpose was of having so many options, and he was too nervous to take a closer look and read about what each vial had to offer. He didn’t want people to know he was new, that felt like painting a target on his back. Instead, he wrinkled his nose, feigning disinterest in the delicacies. “I… when I drink blood, the whole vampire thing happens…” He admitted, gesturing vaguely to his face. Sure, Luis had seen his fangs, but he hadn’t seen him feeding. After losing his reflection he had spent more time than he cared to admit staring at himself on the front camera of his phone. He wanted to know what other people saw, he needed to know what other people saw. And he wasn’t exactly ready to reveal his true nature, the full, uncensored version of it. What would Luis say when his eyes flashed red? When his fangs withdrew without his permission? “Nobody wants to see that…”

Luis placed both hands behind his head and grinned, glad that his blood money could at least help someone out.

“Dude, you’ve seen the other side of me and well uh….all the rest of me too I guess,” Luis pointed out bluntly. Lycanthropy tended to work you through that kind of bashfulness pretty quick, given how often you were put in the position of a streaker. Honestly he mostly felt bad for having forced that level of personal knowledge on Milo when they weren’t even like on a sports team together or something. “It’s not a problem.”

But though Luis had initially laughed it off, the more he paid attention to Milo’s body language, the more he realized that his friend wasn’t taking this well. Milo was a newbie vamp. Luis had enough hangups on his lycanthropy that he was still repressed about being flirted with by other wolves. Why wouldn’t Milo have a thing about whatever this feeding face was?

“Hey Milo,” he said more gently, lowering his voice. “It’s ok, you’re still my friend, no matter what I see.”

Milo smiled appreciatively as he was reminded of just how vulnerable Luis had been in his company. It was true, no matter what his friend saw, he wasn’t about to turn on his heel and run. That much was obvious. But it didn’t take away from the strange sense of embarrassment. He wondered if Luis had felt that after becoming human again, regardless of the fact that he was naked. Was there more to it? Had it been about the wolf, and not about the distinct lack of clothing? Chewing thoughtfully on his bottom lip, the longer they stayed in the tent, the stronger his thirst seemed to grow. Stronger, and more painful, until it was clear to him he wouldn’t be able to leave without first buying something to sate it. Not without becoming a danger to any humans unfortunate enough to cross his path. Clutching his jar to his chest, aware of the two mice looking up at him curiously, his expression softened at the sound of Luis’ voice. It was gentle and reassuring, as though he recognised the internal struggle.

“I know…” He replied, his voice low, and sincere. It meant more than he could possibly put into words, so he didn’t try. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the vials, deciding it would be smart to settle for what he knew. As he carefully selected a vial of human blood, he couldn’t help but think back to his initial question of how it had been collected. It felt odd, not knowing. But then, did humans ever question where their meat came from? How the animals had suffered? Did they ever wonder who stitched their clothing, or put together their cell phone? The drugs he so readily took were definitely manufactured in questionable ways, and he never once let that stop him from taking them. His fist closing around the blood in his hand, he shot Luis a look that told him he had made his decision, too nervous to approach the person waiting to take their money himself.

If working with hardened criminals could really be said to have any benefits for one character, it was that you quickly got acclimated to exchanging money with strangers who were probably on a dozen government watch lists.

Luis approached the seller, a suited and veiled figure in a safari hat who smelled of moldering dust and dried blood. While he’d been prepared to muster that blank-faced confidence necessary to not show weakness to his coworkers, the vendor turned out to be more passively intimidating than they were actually forceful. Their voice had the crackling dryness of paper and sounded venerable to Luis’ ears, though he wasn’t really sure what that meant when dealing with the dead.

After an exchange that was a tad eerie yet also conducted with a formal courtesy that belonged to another century, Luis returned to Milo and led the way out of the black silk pavilion.

Luis surveyed Milo’s increasing haul with a small smirk, “hey dude, I got something to show you,” he said, striding down the lines of stalls with an easy confidence, the inner core of self-assurance of one who’d fought, endured, killed, and won that the Luis Martinez from last summer would have never possessed.

The werewolf grinned over his shoulder at Milo, eyes luminous with reflected market lights, perhaps not even aware himself of being irrevocably changed in ways that had nothing to do with claws or night vision. “I promise it’s chill,” he teased.

Milo watched, almost in awe of Luis as he held his head high, paying for the blood with no evidence of being uncomfortable. He looked so unaffected, so casual. He would never say so out loud, he knew it wasn’t something his friend would want to hear, but he seemed to belong in this world sometimes. Like nothing fazed him anymore. “Thank you.” He murmured, his grip still tight around the vial, his other arm holding his two mice as though they were his lifeline. A necessary reminder of why he needed to stay calm, why he needed to stay in control. As he followed Luis out of the tent, he took a deep breath of fresh air, making no effort to hide how relieved he felt no longer being surrounded by the scent of blood. With one last glance at the market stall, he turned his attention back to his company, who was smiling at him as though he was about to share a secret.

Pausing briefly to process the way Luis’ eyes managed to catch the light, it reminded him of every fox he had seen crossing the road at night, every owl, or cat, in the garden of his family home... It was so endearing, and yet so animalistic. He wondered whether Luis knew his eyes shone in the dark, but quickly decided against telling him. Instead, he smiled too, unable to help himself. “I don’t know whether to believe you.” He admitted. “Are there- are there going to be people?” He asked, the vial in his hand feeling heavy, and hot. The burning desire to drink from it wasn’t about to disappear. And though he would much rather take his time, hide how badly he relied upon the substance it contained, if there were going to be people, with heartbeats, and blood, wherever he was being taken, it was far better to make sure he was safe.

“Yes, but also animals that are for petting, not eating,” Luis assured, perhaps having concluded something about Milo from watching him interact with those mice.

Luis led the way past stalls of vegetables and fruit. There was a pause on one market corner where cooked Flatflitters hung on strings. Luis made to move on but the smell brought him back. A bill exchanged hands with the vendor and soon the werewolf was on his way again, smiling apologetically at Milo before hungrily biting the head off a spiced hummingbird-like creature with a cluster of spiny proboscis in place of a beak.

They came to makeshift collections of domesticated animals in corrals and pens that wouldn’t have looked out of place at any county fair back in Luis’ home state. Pigs, cows, and sheep muched hay apathetically as children gawked at them, a few kid’s interest decidedly more ravenous than animal loving. Luis led the way to where a woman in denim jeans and broad brimmed hat sat in a chair. She asked Luis for the petting fee, and for just a moment the market lights caused her eyes to glitter with a multitude insectile facets, but with a blink her gaze of superficially mammalian again.

In the rancher's lap was a small hedgehog with fur and bristles of the purest arctic white. Tiny red eyes looked up at Luis and Milo with a suspicious astuteness that didn’t quite belong among normal Eulipotyphla. The woman brushed its little head, crooning comforting phrases in a airy lilting language that Luis didn’t recognize. The Arkan Sonney agitated appeared to subside and the it made a snuffing noise in the pairs direction.

“Apparently its like...a very rare ...special hedgehog or something,” Luis supplied.

“An Arkan Sonney,” the rancher corrected, reached out for the bill Luis handed her.

“Yeah the AchySomy give people luck apparently,” the werewolves flippantly cheerful tone suggested that he had not yet adopted some of the stranger superstitions of the paranormal world.

“C’mon, get in some lucky pets man, y’ll need it,” Luis claimed, gesturing Milo forward.

Milo grinned in response to Luis’ comment, unsure whether he was being warned against eating the animals, or whether petting the animals was being used as a way to lure him in. The fact that he didn’t know was more amusing than it probably should be. Falling into step beside his friend, he didn’t have time to dwell on the blood still in his hand. So he watched as his company purchased some very questionable meat, playfully raising his eyebrows instead of questioning where said meat had come from. He didn’t recognise the animal, and part of him didn’t want to know what it was. This was supposed to be his world now. Some things felt too trivial to be questioned. Hurrying to keep up, it was only as they came to a large open space that he finally realised where Luis had been taking him. There were large pens, each holding animals surrounded by people. Some of them looked decidedly not normal, but some of them reminded him of his childhood, of petting zoos with his parents. They had always been learning opportunities, and his dad in particular liked to set him essays, projects to mark the end of every visit. But they were happy memories of a far simpler time. It almost made him homesick.

“A petting zoo?” He asked, as they approached the entrance to the makeshift farm, disbelief written across his features. He was endlessly charmed, he couldn’t say he had done anything quite so innocent in years. Noticing the way the woman’s eyes seemed to change as Luis handed over his money, he tried not to stare, turning his attention to the creature in her lap. The hedgehog looked relatively normal, aside from being stark white, and he had to resist the urge to bend down and stroke it. Clearly it belonged to the woman taking payments, and he wasn’t about to step on any toes. “He’s adorable.” He admitted, offering the woman a smile. “Wait-” He looked between her, and Luis, searching them for permission to pet the animal. His eyes shining when he realised he was able to do so, he crouched to look into its eyes, murmuring to it quietly, introducing himself. Any concern he had over whether the hedgehog would care he was a vampire seemed to dissipate as it shuffled forwards to sniff at his hand. Carefully touching the top of its head, it was ridiculous how much joy he gleaned from such an unimportant interaction. “Thank you.” He said to the woman, genuinely grateful for her time, and trust. Standing up, brushing himself off without jostling his mice, he eyed the larger animals. The pigs, and cows, and sheep. Their heartbeats were loud, even from where he was standing, and once again he found himself unable to deny his thirst. “I think I should probably…” A frown creased his brow as he trailed off, staring down at the vial in his hands, knowing Luis would be able to guess the end of his sentence. “Before we go in… being in that tent was- it was a lot.”

“Ah gotcha…”

Luis led the way out of the cluster of pens. He strode past stalls selling handmade art crafts and pies, occasionally glancing back to see if Milo was following. The market lights became less frequent as the werewolf led onward. Shadows lengthened and the grass got thicker as Luis took them to a less populated spot at the Nightshade Market’s edge. Nightclad fields stretched out beyond the feeble umber horizon of illumination at their friend. Laughter, chatter, and battering with just a distant murmur now.

Luis held out a hand behind him as if to stall Milo’s steps. The werewolf narrowed his shining eyes to scan the darkness and shadows around him. He cocked his head, as if listening for something, before turning to Milo.

“No one is nearby right now,” he assured, “they won't see you vamp out.”

Luis scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Would you uh, prefer if I turned away?”

Milo didn’t know exactly where Luis was going, but he was grateful his friend somehow understood he would rather not be around others. As the market stalls began to dwindle, they came to a halt, surrounded by tall grass, and the quiet sound of insects. It was nice, being able to look back and see the lights, focus on the sound of laughter, and animals vying for attention. It reminded him of where he was, and who he was with. Waiting patiently as Luis appeared to scan their surroundings, he wondered how strong his senses were. Stronger than his own? Was there any way for them to answer that question? Laughing sheepishly at the reassurance, he offered him a smile. “Thank you.” He kept his voice steady, hoping his sincerity would be clear.

Chewing thoughtfully on his bottom lip when Luis asked whether he should turn away, he hesitantly caught his friend’s eye. The truth was he did want Luis to turn away. But he knew that not only wasn’t fair, but counterproductive. It would only be weird, and awkward this one time. After that, they wouldn’t have anything to hide from each other. He had seen Luis as a wolf, seen the painful shift back into a human being. How could he justifiably keep this from him? “No,” he said finally, shaking his head. “No, it’s okay…”

Uncorking the vial with one hand, the smell hit him so suddenly. Sometimes even when he thought he was prepared, he managed to prove himself wrong. Without waiting any longer than he needed to, embarrassment all but forgotten as he was overcome by desire, he raised the vial and drained the contents, feeling a familiar sense of longing followed by an incredible rush. There wasn’t an awful lot of blood but it was enough, and when he eventually lowered the vial, he gasped audibly. It was a strange reflex considering he didn’t need to breathe. But any strong sensation seemed to draw on his muscle memory, call back to when he was human. Taking another breath, a deeper breath to ground himself, he forced himself to stay in the moment by shfting the jar with his little mice inside. They were relying on him to keep them safe, he couldn’t lose it. “...’m Sorry.” He wasn’t quite sure what he was apologising for, but it felt like the right thing to say. As he capped the vial again, slipping it into his pocket in case there were any drops left he could try and recover later, he blinked, hoping it might do something to dispel the red in his eyes. “It’s weird, right?” He stated, as though acknowledging the fact might make it less so. “I know it’s weird…”

Luis wasn’t going to deny that seeing Milo’s face shift from human to something with long fangs and luminous red eyes was unnerving. It reminded Luis unpleasantly of the time he and a date had been attacked by a back alley slash who had eyes just like those. Yeah it was unfair to have that memory as Milo vamped out, but it wasn’t so easy to shake the twinging echo of dread in his gut, the phantom sensation having someone tearing into his throat, and the feeling of their tongue sliding along the skin of his neck.

Shit, seeing this sober was alot worse then when he and Milo’d been Oxyed up a week ago.

Honestly, Luis was less tilted by Milo’s visage then by the visible craving that overtook his friend. Sure, it made no sense considering what they’d done together during their free time. But that didn’t stop the shuddering breath Milo let out and the clear euphoric rush he was going through from sending prickles of discomfort down Luis' spine.

Milo reflexively apologized and Luis felt like a piece of shit. He’d literally eaten people alive. What right did he have to feel this way when Milo only downed a blood shot?

“Yeah it's weird,” Luis confirmed bluntly. “But look..like,” he aimed a soft reassuring punch to Milo’s shoulder. “I get all hairy and howl sometimes, weird is just life right now y’know?”

Milo laughed, he couldn’t help himself, any unease he was feeling seemed to instantly dissipate when Luis threw a playful punch at his arm. There was something so easy about hearing somebody say it back. Luis wasn’t trying to assure him, or tell him everything was fine, and normal, and no, you don’t look like a scary vampire, it isn’t as bad as you think. He was being honest. Yes, it was weird. It was really fucking weird. Somehow hearing that made everything so much easier to deal with. Glancing up at the moon, he grinned, his eyes still shining red, but filled with humour, and affection. “You aren’t getting the urge to howl at the moon right now, are you?” He teased. “It’s not like, a thing, is it?” Thinking about the viral videos he had seen online of puppies howling in response to their owners, he failed to repress another laugh. “Or is it instinct?” He asked. “Like, if I howled right now, would you howl too? Would you be able to stop yourself?”

Reaching up to brush away any blood potentially lining his lips, he felt his fangs beginning to retract. Confident he no longer looked like a walking nightmare, he took a careful step closer to Luis. He wasn’t usually the one to initiate contact, but he almost wanted to this time. He felt closer to him now, and he knew that was important. “You’re okay, though… right?” He asked, needing the additional assurance. “You swear you aren’t like… totally freaked out by me? I kind of had a meltdown when I saw you as a wolf so, you know… it’s not like it wouldn’t be fair.”

Luis gave Milo a squinting ‘c’mon man’ look but sighed good-naturedly. It seemed only fair given he’d just seen Milo in a pretty vulnerable state. “It is one hundred percent a thing,” he admitted, tugging on one ear sheepishly. “But the moon needs to be uh...fuller, before I get the urge to do that.”

Honestly the howling at big round glowing things was pretty low key compared to all the other stuff that came with Lycanthropy, but it was still hella embarrassing in mixed company.

Milo tentatively asked if this changed anything and Luis shook his head.It seemed like Milo was still embarrassed about losing it, but the only difference is that Luis had already had over a year to breakdown in resolvion at the carnage he woke up too and when Alcher had confronted him with the truth. Luis just had a headstart and the best he could really wish for Milo is that his friend had a gentler rider before he became jaded to all the fucked up stuff of the paranormal world.

“I promise. It’s weird, pretty grody, and I’d probably piss myself if you vamped out right as I came round a corner,” Luis admitted without dissemblance. “But, you’re still just Milo to me,” he assured with a softer tone.

“C’mon,” Luis said, hefting the bag of hearts and motioning with his head towards the sounds life and market lights. “Lemme show you some more wholesome weird before they pack up.”

#addiction tw #drugs tw #milo and luis #c:luis #bless tapir for this incredible title

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