Bite Your Neighbor Bonus Scenes

Interrogation Tactics

“What if she hates me,” Vincent grumbled, leaning his elbows against his knees as he waited for Kendall’s video call to load.

“She won’t hate you.” Wesley patted his shoulder. “But I hate her sometimes, so if she does hate you then instead of a love triangle, we’ll have a hate triangle. It’ll be fun.”

“That’s not my definition of fun.”

“You know I can hear both you fuckers already,” Kendall voice boomed over the speaker, a slight crunch of static under it.

Vincent yelped.

“Kendall!” Wes shouted. He looked at Vincent mournfully. “See, I hate her.”

“My camera’s just taking a vacation, hold on,” Kendall muttered, followed by more shuffling. “There, I think that should—”

The woman appeared in a blur of screen shaking. The image settled out, and she leaned back, arms crossed and squinting. She looked a little older than the version of her with her tongue out and her cheeks pinched up on Wesley’s phone screen. The pink tips of her short black hair were a soft tan now, and the couple freckles on her dark cheeks had faded away. She’d undone the top of her professional looking button up and her tie hung like a scarf around her shoulders. She bobbed her head slowly.

“You’re right,” she said, “he’s hot.”

Vincent swore he was blushing, but he didn’t dare look at the corner of the screen with his reflected image for proof. “Thanks?”

Wesley looped his arms around Vincent’s shoulder from where he stood behind the couch, leaning in to press his chin to Vincent’s neck. “Would I have lied to you, Kendall?”

“In this? No. In general? Absolutely.” It was hard to tell over the video screen, but her gaze seemed to shift to Vincent, her tone turning conspiratorial. “This man is a terror to live with, just warning you.”

“What! Years of blessed roommate-hood discarded just like that?”

She grinned. “I love you, Wesley, but get out.”

Wes grumbled something that sounded like Spanish, but he pulled back from the camera. As he did, he ran a hand through Vincent’s hair and pressed his lips to the soft skin behind his ear, sending a little shiver through Vincent that left him more relaxed in its wake. “She’s just a very angry bunny,” he whispered. “Of the two of you, you’re much scarier.”

“Only in bed,” Vincent murmured back.

Wesley laughed and jogged across the hall. Kendall stared Vincent down as his boyfriend’s footsteps clambered up the stairs and a door shut. Vincent swallowed, glancing behind him, then back. He was pretty sure Kendall hadn’t blinked. She wasn’t a bunny, she was a snake. And he was a mouse.

“First things first,” she said, the corners of her eyes narrowing. “If you hurt Wesley, I will personally fly down to that wretched little city of yours under a war banner where I will string you up by your toes and run you behind a ski boat until someone charges me with breaking the Geneva convention. Do you get me?”

“Yes.” Vincent’s voice squeaked a little.

“Good. Now,” Kendall said, leaning forward until her face almost touched the camera. Vincent swore he could see her pores. He shifted back a little on instinct. “If you pair his socks slightly mismatched, he’s too groggy in the morning to notice, so he’ll put them on. Then, later, when he realizes, he’ll feel obligated by the universe to hop on one foot so his mismatched socks don’t both touch the ground at the same time. You have to do it at least once a week. It’s hilarious.”

Vincent blinked. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“I am absolutely not, I have a compilation video of it I’ll send you later.”

“Oh my god.” A little laugh left him. He almost smiled.

“Yeah.” Kendall shook her head, but her dark eyes sparkled. “Wes is an absolute dork, if you haven’t figured that out by now.”

“I love him.”

“I love him, too.” Her tone was so genuine and heartfelt that Vincent knew without a doubt that she meant it. “I’m glad he’s finally got you. I will always be here for Wes, but that man has desperately wanted things that I cannot give him, and that he’d frankly rather die than accept from me anyways. Like candlelight dinners and fistings.”

Vincent swallowed, trying very hard not to picture Wesley with his legs spread and his back arched, gasping and begging. Those were visions for after he got off the phone with the man’s best friend, when he could make them real. “Is he into that?”

“Absolutely. But he’ll avidly deny he’s ever mentioned anything of the sort to me.” Kendall paused to chuckle under her breath. “He’s a romantic at heart, but like a corny romantic, and he cares a lot more about doing the romantic gestures himself than receiving them. He can’t track holidays, anniversaries, or birthdays to save his life, so you have to remind him ahead of time, probably more than once. He says he wants a cream and a sugar in his coffee, but he actually wants four sugars and no cream and he just can’t seem to figure that out. Oh, also, he can’t smell for shit, but if you cut an onion in his presence, he’ll put on a sad movie within twenty-four hours. Don’t question why that works, it’s like dark magic or something.”

“Fistings, corny romance, bad with dates, four sugars, onion equals sad movie. Got it.”

Kendall’s voice went low. “And don’t ever mention the mentos incident.”

Vincent found himself creeping closer to the phone. “What’s the mentos incident?”

“I said don’t mention it,” she hissed, looking left then right.

From somewhere outside the room a feminine voice called, “Babe, I thought we weren’t talking about the mentos incident?”

“Shit.” Kendall pulled even closer to the camera somehow, her eyes wild. “We must abort. DM me later, ‘k?” As she spoke, a tall figure with cornrows appeared behind her. She muttered, “I’ve said too much, she’s coming for me!” and the image turned to a blur as the camera swayed.

A woman laughed. “Babe!”

“Kendall?” Vincent narrowed his eyes, but the screen went suddenly dead. He stared at it for another ten seconds before cracking up. “Hey, Wes?”

A series of thuds from upstairs was followed by a door opening. “Yeah?”

“I like her!” He smiled, and his mind went straight to a very particular item on his new Wesley quirks list. “Now get down here, I want to try something…”

“Fuck,” Wesley swore.

Vincent was pretty sure he’d never charged down the stairs faster.

Another Kind of Game

Wesley

Wesley drew his toes up Vincent’s ankle, watching his boyfriend pull his lower lip in and out of his mouth. The vampire’s gaze never left the screen. His fingers moved across the controller with a focused coordination that left Wesley staring at them for so long that he missed when Vincent slid the final piece of the game’s puzzle into the correct order and the trap door he’d been working on sprung open.

Vincent released a breath, one corner of his mouth tugging up. The way his lips parted made Wesley think of slipping his finger between them, letting Vincent nick the tip on a fang and gently suck. Maybe next time their game character reached a puzzle…

“I don’t know why you’re making me do these, I’m not any better at them than you,” Vincent said, but Wesley had to shake his head to get the statement to finally settle.

“Yeah—what?”

Vincent glanced at him, and his mouth quirked further. He offered the controller back casually, drawing his thumb up the side of Wesley’s thigh as he did. “Something tells me you’re not paying attention anymore.”

“Oh, I’m paying attention.” Wes took the controller, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Vincent.

“So, you don’t want to turn it off?” Vincent rolled his lips between his teeth in a way that was absolutely deliberate this time. His shoulders bounced. “I could totally keep playing if you’re not interested in some other game instead.”

“A game?” Wesley swallowed, saving the puzzle RPG and shutting it down. The curtains were already closed. “Is it rated X?”

“Do you want it to be rated X?” Vincent crawled his hand further up Wesley’s thigh as he said it. “We could do something more R, or PG-13. I would even settle for a snuggle if I can suck on your fingers.”

Wes was pretty sure vampires were secretly mind-readers. Or possibly just really, really good partners. He tossed the controller to the side. “Bodice-rip me, please. The kind with the if I don’t scream you’re not doing it right rating.”

Vincent smirked, and he tucked one nail against the seam of Wesley’s jeans, casually dragging it up and down in a way that was more vibration than actual touch but still somehow made Wesley ache like he was coming undone. His boyfriend looked deadly serious though. “You’ll tell me if it gets too much?”

They’d had this conversation before, but Wesley found it a bit adorable that Vincent still felt the need to clarify things. “I’ll shout uncle, I promise.”

Vincent groaned. “I can’t believe that’s really our safe-word.”

“It’s hilarious, admit it.”

He shook his head. “The things I do for love.” His lips puckered and when he smiled next, his fangs stuck out, their delicate points gleaming. He leaned forward. “You should probably run.”

Wesley ran.

His heart thudded a little in his ears from giddiness, the burst of adrenaline doing obnoxious things to his dick. He tore into the dining room, just barely shimmying out of Vincent’s reach as the vampire grabbed for him. The fact that Vincent could have caught him in an instant if he was really trying heightened the joy of it instead of diminishing it. Vincent was teasing him, playing with him.

Wes cackled. He nearly collided with the fridge, wheeling around in the process. But Vincent wasn’t there anymore. The vampire’s arms caught him from behind, grabbing him by the shirt and spinning him toward the counter. Vincent shoved him, pinning him there with a hand that slipped beneath his shirt and the other spreading apart his legs.

Vincent’s mouth met his with a hunger as he ground against the bulge in Wesley’s pants, his hardness rubbing agonizingly into Wes’s. Wes moaned and Vincent’s fang cut his lip. The vampire sucked there thoroughly, tugging in a way that kept pricking the swelling skin each time the wound healed. It made Wes’s head spin, the waves of slight pain and blissful toxin turning straight to an ache in his crotch.

As Vincent let go, he gripped into Wes’s hair, nipping along his jawline. “Already given up, have you?” he growled, his voice gone husky. “I didn’t think you’d be so easy to ravage.”

“Fuck.” It was the least composed response Wes could have gone for, but the shiver that ran through him tore all the good lines right out of his head. He bucked his hips into Vincent’s and twisted, slipping out of the vampire’s grip.

Vincent laughed as he gave chase. “Your fighting spirit is commendable. I hope you beg for your release this viciously. If you do, I might even grant it to you.” He’d definitely stolen that line from Seven Night Imprisoned and the fact that he must have noticed Wes blushing over it made him all the more needy.

Wesley rounded the living room once more, expecting to avoid the coffee table, but it had already been pulled to the side, a blanket and a scattering of pillows spread in its place. The thoughtfulness of it swelled something in his chest, and something entirely different in his boxers. He stumbled at the sensation of his dick rubbing the front of his pants.

Vincent appeared from the hallway, placing one hand on the back of the couch. “Does that suit you, pet? I thought it would be a good place to have you naked and writhing.”

A little, desperate groan left Wes. He tried to turn back, to flee into the kitchen again and make Vincent heave him back with his hands grabbing in inappropriate places. One step into the dining room, Vincent snatched him. The vampire pulled him by the waistband and a bicep, then his thigh and shoulder, roughly dragging him toward the floor set up. Wes lurched and tripped, but Vincent’s arms were always there to catch him, his hands gliding over Wesley’s skin and grasping at his ass.

Halfway to the blanket, the vampire picked him up entirely, spinning him around bridal style with a villainous laugh that was almost corny. Wesley loved it.

Vincent lowered him to the ground in such a mixture of care and frenzy that it felt violent without any hint of pain to accompany it. Gasping, Wes struggled against Vincent, making him work to mount his hips and begin pulling off his shirt. He moaned as Vincent’s hands slid up his chest, giving up his efforts to free himself as he melted under the momentary release of his boyfriend’s skin on his.

In his weakness, Vincent managed to pull Wes’s shirt over his head and twist it around his wrists, trapping them together. When the vampire seemed assured that they were properly caught, he wrapped them in a cord Wes had forgotten they’d left tied to one of the couch legs a few weeks ago, stretching out Wesley’s body until his arms were pulled securely above his head.

Wes whined. “That’s not fair.”

“I don’t have to be even a little bit fair to you. You’re mine, remember.” He trailed his fingers down Wesley’s chest as he said it, over his abs and gripped the beltline of his jeans. With one hand, Vincent pulled off his own sweater and shirt in a tangle and tossed them onto the couch.

Wesley tracked down the lines of his bare chest like it was the first time he’d seen them, hungrily consuming every curve and angle with his eyes. His dick throbbed. But that was nothing compared to the feeling it gave as Vincent slipped his fingers beneath the band of his own sweatpants, tugging them down enough in the process that Wes could watch his boyfriend stroke himself. A little sound escaped Vincent, tight and oh so incredibly hot.

Wes whimpered.

The corners of Vincent’s mouth tipped up as he stroked himself again, his lashes fluttering just a little. “You want this, Wes?” He pulled his hand free, letting the band snap back into place, and leaned over Wesley, lips drawn to reveal the full length of his fangs. “What I want, is to have your blood in my mouth and my cum in yours.”

It was all Wesley could do not to orgasm then and there.

Vincent.

Vincent watched the way his words took hold of Wesley, his boyfriend’s desperation enhancing his own to the point of distraction. Stroking his dick had tempered it for barely a moment. Wes already looked so undone even with his jeans still on and his legs free, his curls tangling around his ears and his breath coming in gasps that rippled the muscles of his chest. Vincent was sorely tempted to take full advantage of Wes’s mouth. And then they would see how much more he could ruin his boyfriend.

He licked across his teeth. Running a hand along Wes’s hair, he cherished the soft, loose curls before gripping his fingers in and tipping Wes’s head back just enough to drag his fangs down the front of the man’s throat. He bit slowly, sucking long and deep and letting the taste of Wesley’s blood saturate his mouth before finally pulling back. His lips still wet, he whispered, “I have your blood. What do you think comes next?”

Wesley’s lips parted in a desperate way that sent shivers through Vincent. He slipped a finger between them before his boyfriend could reply. With his other hand, he pulled down his own sweatpants, freeing himself with a mangled sound that made Wesley tremble beneath him. Vincent pulled him up by his arms until he could hold both Wes’s bound wrists and the back of the man’s head in one grip, and led Wesley’s mouth to his dick. He could feel the stirring of Wesley’s breath, hot and heavy. As he ran his dick along the man’s lower lip, a shuddering ache rolled through him. He moaned. Balancing on the couch with his free hand, he pressed in and slowly rocked himself, fucking Wes in small ragged thrusts that rubbed his tip against the roof of his boyfriend’s mouth.

“That’s it, pet,” Vincent cooed, the predatory play taking an affectionate turn for a long hot series of blissful seconds as he massaged circles into the back of Wes’s head with his fingers. He watched Wes’s face with avid attention as he fucked the man’s mouth, memorizing the flush of his cheeks and the parting of his lips and the way his lashes fluttered with each eager whimper that rumbled from his throat. The sight made him leak. Wes sucked.

A moan arched out of Vincent, his fingers tightening around Wes’s hair. He pulled free, shifting back with a gasp. A few more pearls of liquid beaded from him. He shuddered as he wiped them onto a fingertip. With a smirk, he drew it along Wesley’s swollen, pink lips. “How does that taste?”

Wes replied by nipping at him.

Vincent startled. As he stared at Wes, a little smirk built across the man’s face. Wes was pushing him. On purpose. The fucking little—

Wesley flopped backward, and his eyes roved slowly down Vincent’s body, settling on his still achingly hard dick. “You planning to do something naughty with that or were you just all talk, huh?”

Vincent flushed. It took him a stammering moment to find his more predatory character again, but with a growl and a little lunge, he pinned Wes into the blanket-covered carpet. Wes trembled beneath him, and the man’s hips rose, bucking into Vincent’s in a way that was half fight and all lust. Vincent growled again and pulled back, slipping between Wes’s legs fast enough to grab them. “Someone clearly hasn’t had enough.”

“You’re just losing your touch,” Wes retorted, breathless and grinning.

“Touch?” Vincent gripped both of Wesley’s hips. “That’s what you want, is it?”

He wrapped one leg under and around Wesley’s to hold it in place and pressed the other knee against Wesley’s thigh, exposing the seat of his pants. Wes moaned, and by the look of him it was merely the force of his own dick against the fabric that was causing the sound. Vincent added to the pressure playfully, running his fingertips along the bulge. He pressed his heel into Wesley’s hip when the man tried to buck against him, and dragged down his pants zipper. Scooping at Wes’s ass, he squeezed. His own dick twitched so hard in response to the taut muscle and the thought of the warm, tight gap where the crack of it led that he had to bite back a moan. He detangled himself to peel off his boyfriend’s jeans and boxers, dragging the fabric cruelly just to see the man whine.

Wes was beautiful laying there naked, all tanned, golden-toned skin and curls of dark hair, tight muscles and little pudges of fat, his lips still bright and his swollen need on full display. It made Vincent roll his tongue against the back of his teeth in anticipation. He pressed his lips to the inside of Wesley’s knee, then worked up his leg in increasingly stronger nips until he sunk his fangs into the soft skin of Wes’s inner thigh. Wes’s blood burst into Vincent’s mouth, thick and smooth and darkly sweet, near enough to the large leg veins that he fed in deep, long pulls. Wes sighed through it, his eyes shut and his breaths slow and steady.

His lashes fluttered as Vincent licked the wound closed, but it wasn’t until Vincent turned his tongue on Wes’s hard dick that the man burst properly back into wakefulness, groaning and giving a little buck with his hips. “Please.”

“Oh no, there’s no escape for you.” Vincent pinned down Wes’s stomach with one hand. Blood still coating his mouth, he took Wesley into it before shifting sideways instead. With the utmost care, he drew one of his fangs along Wes’s shaft, building up venom in the tip, then pressed into his skin just slightly.

Wes arched his back, making a sputtered cry of pain that sunk into a deep, throaty moaning. The sound strengthened with each tiny prick and suck and healing glide of the tongue, the man’s utter desperation and the delicious bloom of blood in Vincent’s mouth egging him on and making him ache. “Fuck, Vinny,” Wes whimpered, his brows tight. His eyes gleamed. A twinge of panic shot through Vincent, but Wes whispered, “Please,” again in a tone of senseless desire.

Vincent kept going, dragging out each feed, relishing the little bloom of Wes’s sweet blood, until Wes seemed to not know what to do with himself, alternating between tense cries and melting moans. As he did, Vincent slipped the little thing of lube he’d already taken from its hiding place in the box beside the video game controllers, sloppily spreading it over three of his fingers. He circled them over Wes’s tight opening and his boyfriend’s chorus of sounds went husky with anticipation.

“Do you want this?” Vincent asked, lips still brushing Wes’s dick between nips.

“God, please.” Wes’s voice had a deliciously unkempt edge to it, like he was just holding himself back.

“You’re sure?” He throbbed at his own question, his need begging for satisfaction, but he forced himself to wait, to nurture Wes’s desperation until neither of them could stand it any longer.

“Si!” he sobbed.

Vincent slid his fingers inside Wes.

Wesley

Wesley felt himself coming further and further undone with every drag of Vincent’s mouth and glide of his fingers. Each slice of the vampire’s fangs bloomed a bright, hot pain in his dick before immediately subsiding into something that he swore was a kind of orgasm all its own, a blissful rush that tore through his nerves and cascaded up his spine. The ceiling blurred above him, and his whole body felt tight and loose at the same time, like he was being held together and pulled apart all at once.

“Vinny,” he groaned, and he couldn’t add to it, couldn’t find the words to expand on what he needed any longer. He could only repeat his boyfriend’s name and hope he took pity. “Vinny.”

“Wes,” Vincent replied, sounding nearly as ragged and senseless. “Right, fuck. Yes.”

His fingers pulled out and his lips left Wes’s dick. The momentary lack of contact felt like a curse, a punishment. He whimpered.

“God, that’s hot,” Vincent whispered, the gravel of his sexy vampire voice turning to something soft and pleading. His arm came beneath Wes and Wes spread his legs, crying out as Vincent entered him.

The vampire’s venom still pulsed in his dick and bloomed through his core, making each thrust Vincent took a bright, blissful thing. His breath stuttered. He arched further, opening himself up. The world blurred into color, bursting in tandem with the thrust of Vincent’s dick in and out of him, and in and out. Vincent’s fingers dragged up his shaft and over his tip, and Wes cried again, the sound turning to a scream as he hit his peak.

All his nerves seem to come alive at once, the venom carrying his orgasm in a way that was utterly foreign and just as utterly blissful. His body went rigid, the heat of his cum dripping to his stomach. Vincent thrust into him once, twice, three more times, and he stiffened too. The feeling of him coming inside Wes made Wes shudder, carrying out the end of his own climax a little further until it faded into a tingle of stars. With a gasp, he went limp.

Vincent groaned and pulled out. He vanished from Wes’s focus for a moment, the muffled sounds of him echoing loosely in Wes’s ears, until he felt Vincent’s hands on his, carefully unwrapping his wrists. They smarted a little, but Vincent rubbed them gently, massaging down his arm and his shoulders. Wes moaned a “thank you” and tried to sit up.

The world spun, a tingle of nausea rising in his belly.

Vincent must have seen it, because he pressed Wes back down. “Sorry, I might have taken too much. I was trying to be careful, but—” He sounded more panicked than Wes was, and the poor vampire had to be remembering the times Wes had clarified that he didn’t want to be drained far enough for the blood loss to make him lightheaded in case it triggered a panic attack.

But Wes didn’t know if it was possible to feel anxious with how loose and relaxed he was, and he was half sure his problem wasn’t not enough blood but rather too much vampire toxin. “I’m alright laying here,” he whispered, giving a little grin. “I’m not worried.”

Vincent visibly relaxed. “You just rest, still. I can clean you up. I’ve got this.” He propped a pillow under Wesley’s head and ran a hand through Wes’s hair, bending over to kiss his lips. He tasted faintly of Wes’s blood. But then Wes figured he tasted faintly of Vincent, too.

The thought made him smirk a little.

He watched as his still naked boyfriend retrieved a warm towel from the kitchen to clean them both, every motion as soft now as they had been rough earlier. Vincent kept smiling to himself while he worked, and as he finished, he caught Wes’s gaze.

“Enjoying the view?” Vincent teased.

“Mm, you bet.” Wes could feel his blood moving again finally. Moving straight back to his dick. Vincent sure had a way of doing that to him. He chuckled. “I might be enjoying it too much.”

Vincent’s lips went adorably crooked. His gaze roamed slowly, his expression so warm and soft that he looked like he might start glowing. “You keep that up, and when I carry you to bed in a few minutes, maybe you could keep enjoying me. But gentler this time.”

Wes touched the side of Vincent’s calf with his foot. “I’d love that.”

The sigh that left Vincent was every shade of happy.

Wesley was so damned eager to be gentle with him.