JONELIAS WEEK IS HERE!!!!!!
Day 1 - Vampires / Self-destruction
A small ficlet to complement the beautiful stunning art from @kalgalenDay 1 - Self-destruction / Vampires
Without his weapons, Jon feels naked. His hands itch for them as he follows Jonah to the bedroom, all too aware that his host can hear the fear pulsing at his throat, his heart racing in his chest, so loud that it fills all the quiet, solemn silence between them. He wishes that Jonah had lost it immediately, that he’d pushed Jon against a wall and sucked him dry before Jon could even formulate why he was here, when he should have fled London a week ago.
But Jonah’s too old a vampire to be so thoughtless, and too much of an arse to let Jon have this one kindness. Jon wonders what he would do if he attacked him anyway — there are ways to kill vampires bare-hands, if you’re competent enough and Jon… God, Jon is competent. He was not even nine when he got rid of his first vampire.
He could kill Jonah. Instead, he’s going to let Jonah kill him.
The bedroom is softly lit, and Jonah’s hand brush for the first time against Jon’s wrist. Jon startles, skin burning under the gentle and icy touch, but he lets Jonah grab him, lets him pull them both to the couch in the corner, near the fireplace, until Jon is half-sitting on Jonah’s lap, now too close to ignore the unmoving torso against his, its unnatural coldness, and the hint of sharpness in Jonah’s thoughtful smile.
“I could keep you as a thrall for a few decades first, if that reassures you,” he murmurs at last, fingers dancing at the edge of Jon’s throat.
Jon scowls at him. He thought he would be too terrified at what’s to come to manage to speak until it was done, but apparently his annoyance at Jonah’s general behaviour is enough to make him snap:
“Out of the question. You promised, Jonah.”
“Equal, or nothing at all, yes.”
The words are spoken with too much fondness, too much desire. They’ve been burnt into Jon’s mind ever since they were first whispered, months ago. They send goosebumps on his arms, as Jonah raises his wrist to his mouth, pressing a delicate kiss on it. This is me, saving the world, Jon had growled at Basira and Melanie, two weeks ago, but he knew then, as they knew too, as he knows now that saving the world of Jonah’s thirst for horror is only a happy, fortunate afterthought. That Jon would have ended up here anyway, because Jonah is not the only one who was caught in something unexpected and wider than his initial plans.
“Get on with it,” Jon mutters, softer than before.
“I know you’re not one for rituals or formalities,” Jonah chides in return. “But I am not going to treat it as a matter of little importance. I should have made a party of it, truly. This deserves to be savoured, beloved.”
Jon shivers. Instinct is screaming at him to run. His years of training are, instead, reminding him of all the weaknesses Jonah is displaying right now, everything Jon could be exploiting. He wants to close his eyes and shut it all out, wants Jonah to take charge and stop talking and make the choice, but he’s made the promise right back at him. Jon has agency here. Jon has power. Jon has chosen.
“Fine,” he breathes. “Fine. Kiss me, then.”
Jonah obliges, leaning forwards. This is another way to lose himself, Jon thinks, clumsily burying his hands in Jonah’s silky hair. Every kiss with Jonah feels like drowning — there is little one can do to stop a vampire that loves you once you’ve allowed him to touch, little you can say to remind them that you need to breathe, even if they don’t. Jonah only drags his lips to Jon’s jaw once Jon is already seeing blackspots, and keeps going lower and lower until his teeth are grazing against his stuttering pulse.
“You’ll learn to love it,” Jonah promises with a certainty that Jon doesn’t have at all. “You were not made for something as insignificant as human life, Jon. You will love eternity.”
“I love you,” Jon only replies, dizzy and terrified.
“I love you,” repeats Jonah and offers no other warning before biting him.