happy belated birthday!! are you possibly writing for david x michael (lost boys musical)?? i just love them so much especially ali and lj's portrayals :)
Author's Note: thank you so much anon! I love Ali and LJ's portrayal too! everyone from the cast is genuinely just so talented and they're stuck in my mind!
🩸an AU in which Michael freaks out after taking the last step, turning him into a full vampire. David calms him down.
The pier was quieter than Michael remembered it ever being.
Even the ocean sounded distant—like it didn’t want to get too close to what had just happened.
He stood a few steps back from the body, frozen in place, breath coming too fast, too shallow. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. There was something on his lips he couldn’t bring himself to name, like the world had shifted and his body had decided it no longer belonged to him.
It didn’t feel like hunger anymore.
Now it felt like realization.
“I—” Michael tried, but the word broke apart in his throat. His stomach turned sharply, violently, like it was trying to reject him entirely. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean—”
He barely hit the wood of the pier before he caught himself, palms slamming down, breathing hard. His vision blurred at the edges. Not from pain. From understanding.
He had crossed something.
A line he couldn’t un-cross.
The words came out quieter than he expected, like if he said them softly enough, they wouldn’t become real.
And then the hunger—that strange, burning thing that had been pushing him forward all night—finally went quiet. Like a door slamming shut.
Michael flinched hard, dragging a hand over his mouth as if he could wipe the memory away. “No—no, no, no… I— I drank—” His voice cracked completely now. “I drank their blood.”
He gagged, choking on air that suddenly felt too thick, too wrong. His body lurched forward as if it wanted to purge something that wasn’t there anymore. He pressed a hand to his chest, like he could hold himself together physically.
“I’m going to be sick,” he whispered, more to himself than anything else. “I’m going to be—”
The voice cut through everything.
Low. Calm. Familiar in a way that made his chest tighten even more.
David stepped out of the shadows like he belonged there more than the night itself did. No rush, no panic. Just that slow, controlled confidence that always felt like he already knew how every ending would go.
Michael’s head snapped up.
For a second, he looked like he might bolt.
But he didn’t have anywhere left to run.
David stopped a few feet away, eyes flicking once—just once—to the body, then back to Michael. No shock. No judgment. That was worse, somehow. Or maybe better.
“You’re shaking,” David observed quietly.
Michael let out a broken laugh that didn’t sound human. “Yeah. I—I think I figured that part out.”
Silence stretched between them, filled only by the ocean and Michael’s uneven breathing.
“I killed someone,” Michael said again, like repetition could turn it into something less real. “I actually— I did it. I didn’t just— David, I—”
“I know,” David interrupted gently.
That should’ve made it worse.
Instead, something in Michael’s chest cracked open even further, like he’d been waiting for someone else to confirm it so he could finally collapse under the weight of it.
“I didn’t stop,” Michael said, voice breaking. “I didn’t stop when I should’ve.”
David stepped closer then—not fast, not threatening. Just enough to be there.
“That’s what it is,” David said simply. “It’s not pretty. It’s not clean. It’s not something you’re going to make sense of in the next five minutes.”
Michael shook his head hard. “I can’t— I can’t be like this. I can’t be— I can’t be this thing.”
David’s gaze held steady.
Michael flinched like he’d been hit.
David didn’t soften it. Didn’t dress it up. But his voice lowered slightly, losing its edge just enough to make room for something steadier.
Michael’s breathing stuttered. His hands curled into fists against the wood, like he was trying to anchor himself to something real.
“I feel like I’m going to disappear,” he admitted quietly. “Like I’m not in my body anymore.”
David crouched slightly so they were closer to eye level. Still calm. Still infuriatingly sure of himself.
“You’re not disappearing,” he said. “You’re adjusting.”
“That’s what you call this?” Michael snapped weakly, though there was no real anger behind it. Just fear. “Adjusting? I just— I just—”
His voice broke again. He couldn’t finish.
David watched him for a moment, then tilted his head slightly.
David’s eyes weren’t cold. Not right now. Not entirely.
“You’re panicking because your mind is trying to catch up with your instincts,” David said. “That hunger you felt? It didn’t think. It didn’t hesitate. It just did what it was made to do.”
Michael swallowed hard. “I didn’t want it to.”
“I know,” David said again, quieter this time.
That repetition shouldn’t have meant anything.
Michael’s breath shuddered out of him, and he finally looked away, like holding David’s gaze was the only thing keeping him upright. “I can still taste it.”
David didn’t react to that. Just nodded once, like it was expected.
“It fades,” he said. “Not quickly. But it does.”
Michael’s laugh came out hollow. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“No,” David said honestly. “It’s supposed to be true.”
“You’re not the first one to hate it.”
The ocean rolled in below them, indifferent.
Michael’s voice dropped to almost nothing. “Do you remember yours?”
David was quiet for a moment too long.
Michael looked up again, searching his face for something—regret, maybe. Or proof that this would destroy him the way it was destroying Michael.
But David just looked… steady.
“I thought it would break me,” David admitted. “It didn’t. But I remember thinking it would.”
Michael’s throat tightened. “I don’t want to become you.”
Something flickered in David’s expression—so quick Michael almost missed it.
David straightened slightly. “If you wanted to become me, I’d be disappointed.”
That almost made Michael laugh again. Almost.
Instead, he sank forward a little, elbows resting on his knees, head hanging.
“I killed someone,” he said again, quieter now. Not repeating it to understand it—but because it was the only truth he could hold onto.
David stayed where he was.
Because that was the part that scared him most.
But that he was still here to think about it at all.
David’s voice lowered, almost lost in the wind.
“You’re going to feel like this for a while,” he said. “Then it’ll shift. Then you’ll hate something else. Then you’ll learn what you are now.”
Michael finally whispered, “And what am I?”
David looked at him for a long moment.
Michael shut his eyes at that, like it hurt.
But he didn’t move away, and David didn’t leave.
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Author's Note: ahh yes, Michael and David 😏 also guys ik vampires technically don't breathe pls I wrote this in a sleep deprived state, and barely realized when I was proofreading. but I did look it up and for the lost boys, the vampires do be inhaling and exhaling soooo😗 also if you've seen the clip of Ali as David smelling the cloth with Michael's blood-it just makes sense
