𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You never meant to get tangled up with the Lost Boys, but a wrong turn in the woods led you to them—four vampires with glowing eyes and dangerous smiles. Now, weeks later, you’re theirs. Surrounded by their cold skin and sharp promises, you’re not just safe—you’re wanted, desired, and maybe too far gone to care what they are.
𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.7k
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: suggestive themes. sexual tension. possessiveness.
The boardwalk hums with life, the carousel’s tinny music clashing with the roar of motorbikes and the screams from the roller coaster. You weave through the crowd, the salty ocean breeze tugging at your hair, your waitress apron still tied loosely around your waist from a double shift at the diner. Your feet ache, your head’s foggy, and all you want is to collapse into bed.
But the weight of their eyes on you, always watching, always there, makes your skin prickle with something that’s not quite fear anymore.
It started that night in the woods. A stupid shortcut after a late shift, your flashlight flickering, and then those glowing eyes. Four of them stepped out of the shadows like they owned the night. Paul, with his wild grin and a joint dangling from his lips. Marko, all sharp edges and sharper laughter. Dwayne, silent, his dark eyes pinning you in place. And David, cold and commanding, like he was sizing you up for dinner.
You should’ve screamed. Run. Done something. Instead, you snapped at David to get out of your way, or you’d make him. The words had tumbled out before you could stop them, fueled by exhaustion and defiance.
Paul had howled with laughter, Marko’s eyes had glinted with something dangerous, and even Dwayne’s stoic mask cracked into a faint smirk. David, though—he’d just stared, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smile.
“Feisty,” he’d said, voice like gravel and smoke. “I like that.”
You thought that was the end of it. A weird encounter with some punks who hung out in the wrong part of town. But then they started showing up everywhere.
Paul slipping a mixtape labeled “For Our Girl” onto your windowsill, filled with Mötley Crüe and The Cure. Marko ambushing you at the pier, dragging you to a secluded stretch of beach to watch the stars his arm brushing yours. Dwayne wordlessly showing up at your rundown apartment to fix the lock after you mentioned it was busted, his hands steady and sure, his gaze lingering too long on your throat.
And David. David, who one night draped his leather coat over your shoulders when the wind off the ocean turned sharp, his gloved fingers grazing your jaw as he tilted your face up to meet his icy blue eyes. “Anyone messes with you,” he said, voice low and deadly, “they answer to us.”
Now, weeks later, you’re unsure what you are to them. Not a victim—they’ve made that clear. Not just a friend, either. There’s a heat in the way they watch you, a hunger that’s equal parts thrilling and terrifying. You’re theirs, they say, and the word carries a weight you’re only starting to understand.
Tonight, you feel it more than ever. You’re halfway across the boardwalk when Paul’s voice cuts through the noise, lazy and teasing. “Yo, babe, where you runnin’ off to?”
You turn, and there they are, lounging against the railing like they own the place. Paul’s sprawled out, one leg kicked up, his blond hair a mess from the wind. Marko’s next to him, twirling a switchblade between his fingers, his patchwork jacket catching the neon glow. Dwayne leans back, arms crossed, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he watches you with that quiet intensity that makes your pulse race. And David—David stands at the center, his cigarette glowing red in the dark, his smirk promising trouble.
“Home,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “Some of us have jobs, you know.”
Paul laughs, loud and bright, hopping off the railing to sling an arm around your shoulders. “Jobs are overrated. Come hang with us. We’ve got plans.”
“Plans?” You raise an eyebrow, glancing at the others. Marko’s grin is all teeth, and Dwayne’s expression doesn’t shift, but you catch the faintest tilt of his head like he’s daring you to say yes. David just exhales a plume of smoke, watching you through half-lidded eyes.
“Something… fun,” David says, and the word drips with suggestion, his voice curling around you like a promise.
Your stomach flips. You know what they are. You’ve seen how their eyes glow in the dark, and their teeth glint a little too sharp. You’ve noticed the bloodstains on Marko’s jacket that he laughs off and the way Dwayne’s hands are always cold when they brush your skin. Vampires. The word sits heavy in your mind, but instead of running, you’re still here, caught in their orbit.
“Fun,” you repeat, crossing your arms. “Last time you said that, Marko tried to teach me to surf at three a.m. I nearly drowned.”
Marko snickers, flipping the switchblade closed. “You loved it, admit it. Looked hot in that wetsuit, too.”
“Keep dreaming,” you shoot back, but a smile tugs at your lips, and Marko’s eyes light up with mischief.
Paul tightens his arm around you, pulling you closer. “C’mon, babe. Live a little. Or, y’know… unlive a little.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, but the heat of his body against yours sends a shiver down your spine.
Dwayne finally moves, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell the leather of his jacket and the faint tang of salt and iron that clings to him. “You’re tired,” he says, voice low, almost gentle. “Let us take you home.”
It’s not a question, but there’s no threat in it either. Just a quiet certainty, like he already knows you’ll say yes. You glance at David, who’s still watching you, his cigarette forgotten between his fingers. There’s something in his gaze—possessive but not cruel. Like he’s waiting to see what you’ll do.
“Fine,” you say, exhaling like you’re annoyed, but your heart’s pounding. “But I’m not riding on the back of anyone’s bike. Last time, Paul nearly crashed us into a dumpster.”
“Lies!” Paul gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’m an artist on that bike.”
“An artist at chaos,” you mutter, and Marko laughs, sharp and delighted.
David flicks his cigarette away, stepping closer until he’s right in front of you, his presence overwhelming. “You’ll ride with me,” he says, and it’s not a request. His gloved hand brushes your cheek, lingering just long enough to catch your breath. “Unless you’re scared.”
You scoff, meeting his eyes. “Of you? Please.”
His smirk widens, and for a second, you think he’s going to kiss you right there in front of everyone. Instead, he steps back, jerking his head toward the bikes parked nearby. “Let’s go.”
The ride to your apartment is a blur of wind and adrenaline, David’s bike roaring beneath you as you cling to his waist, the leather of his coat cool against your cheek. The others follow their laughter and whoops cutting through the night.
When you reach your place, you expect them to drop you off and peel out, but they don’t. They follow you inside, sprawling across your tiny living room like they own it—Paul kicking off his boots, Marko raiding your fridge, Dwayne leaning against the wall, watching you with that unreadable stare.
David doesn’t sit. He prowls, circling you like a predator as you untie your apron and toss it onto the counter. “You’re tense,” he says, voice low, almost a purr. “Rough night?”
“You could say that,” you reply, leaning against the counter, trying to ignore how your skin tingles under his gaze. “Some creeps at the diner wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
The air shifts. Paul’s head snaps up from where he’s sprawled on the couch, his grin gone. Marko freezes a bottle of soda halfway to his lips. Dwayne’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing. David stops moving, his gaze locking onto yours, sharp and dangerous.
“Who?” David asks, and the single word is a blade.
You shrug, trying to play it off. “Just some drunk tourists. I handled it.”
“You handled it,” Marko repeats, setting the bottle down with a thud. “What’d they do?”
“Nothing worth mentioning,” you say, but your voice wavers and you curse yourself for it. “Just… got too close. Said some shit. My boss kicked them out.”
Dwayne pushes off the wall, stepping closer. “They touch you?” His voice is quiet, but there’s a lethal edge to it that makes your heart skip.
“No,” you say quickly. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Paul growls, sitting up. “Point ‘em out next time. We’ll handle it.”
You laugh, but it’s shaky. “What, you gonna beat up every jerk who looks at me wrong?”
“Yes,” Marko says, dead serious, and the intensity in his eyes makes your stomach flip.
David’s gloved hand cups your chin, tilting your face to meet his gaze. His touch is firm but not painful, and the heat of his stare makes your breath hitch. “No one touches what’s ours,” he says, voice low and deliberate. “No one bothers you. Ever.”
The possessiveness in his words should scare you, but it doesn’t. Instead, it sends a thrill through you, dangerous and electric. You’re not sure when you stopped being afraid of them—when their sharp edges and glowing eyes started feeling like safety instead of a threat.
“I can take care of myself,” you say, but your voice is softer now, your defiance melting under the weight of their attention.
“We know,” Dwayne says, his voice a low rumble as he steps closer, his hand brushing your arm. “But you don’t have to.”
Paul’s on his feet now, crowding in, his grin back but sharper, hungrier. “You’re ours, babe. Means we’ve got your back. Always.”
Marko’s behind you, closer than you realized, his breath cool against your neck as he murmurs, “And we don’t share.”
Your pulse races, the air thick with tension—sexual, dangerous, intoxicating. You’re surrounded, their bodies close enough that you can feel the unnatural chill of their skin, the promise of something more in every lingering touch. David’s thumb brushes your lower lip, and you swallow hard, caught in the pull of his gaze.
“Get some rest,” he says finally, stepping back and breaking the spell. “We’ll be around.”
They leave as silently as they came, the roar of their bikes fading into the night. But the weight of their promise lingers, heavy and warm, and as you crawl into bed, you know there’s no going back. You’re theirs—and you’re not sure you’d want it any other way.
warnings: swearing, mentions of blood (duh?), talk of eating people, typical vampire things, making out turned heavy petting
synopsis: being with the boys—being with david—has begun to make you feel more alive than anything human ever has. you think it’s time you made your feelings about that clear to your lover.
a/n: hello, my loves! seeing as david has bewitched me, body and soul, this fic practically wrote itself, and i had so much fun. i caught myself grinning at my computer screen on more than one occasion—corny as that may be. this fic can be read as a continuation of my precious one, as it basically is, but they can also be read separately!! i hope you enjoy this one!!! and bestie, @clovermunson every bit of dwayne in here was written for you. eat up, queen <3
————
The chemical scent of nail polish hasn’t bothered you for a long time, but Paul keeps rubbing his nose like the smell is coming from his upper lip.
“Put your hand here,” you wrestle his wrist to sit atop your propped knee, “and quit messin’ around.” He chose a sparkly, deep blue color. You’re trying to do a good job, but he’s restless, leg bouncing incessantly.
“You asked me to do this, Paulie,” you remark.
“I didn’t know it would take so long, and now they gotta dry—what am I supposed to do with my hands?”
“It’s been ten minutes,” Dwayne says, not looking up from where he sits, sharpening a pocket knife.
“I’m almost finished, okay? Relax. I’ll put the top coat on ‘em and then you just need to make sure not to bump into anything for a little bit.” Paul nods.
“Say ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Paulie,” Marko teases. You clock the cropped, white tank top he’s wearing and he grins.
Paul leans over the bench he’s straddling and tries to smack Marko. The back of your hand makes contact with his thigh. “Ow!” he whines.
“What did I just say?”
He settles back down. “Yes, ma’am.”
It doesn’t take you long to wrap up. David’s here now, but you haven’t noticed. He watches from the far edge of the cave as your tongue pokes out in concentration. He swallows down the lump in his throat. You give the same care to Paul’s nails that you do to yours—taking every step to make the polish last. You could’ve done one shitty coat and pleased him, but that just didn’t seem right. The cap squeaks as you twist it closed.
“Okay, you’re free.”
Paul launches himself upward and presses a wet kiss to your forehead. “Thanks, babe!” He glances down briefly, bounding away still. “Beautiful work!”
You start cleaning up, putting the polish and nail clippers back into your bag—you’d brought them from home. You feel someone approach you from behind.
“What are you up to?” David asks.
You swivel your head to look up at him. “Whenever you ask me that, I get the feeling you already know.” He laughs through his nose.
David sits down across from you and leans in. He bites down on the tip of your nose, gently. It makes you laugh and you swat him away. He grabs for your wrists and brings them around the back of his neck, kissing you then, slow and sweet. His lips move leisurely against yours. When he pulls away, you glance toward the gray streams of light coming in through the cave. The sun is setting behind a thick cluster of clouds.
“Where’ve you been?” you ask him, fingers rubbing the top of his spine.
“Scouting.”
You hum. David looks at you with a question in his eyes. You squint, trying to tell him not to ask it right now. Instead, he asks something else.
“You wanna come out with us tonight? Buy you somethin’ pretty.”
“You mean steal?”
David raises his brows. “You hear that boys? She takes us for a bunch of pilfering criminals.”
Dwayne appears beside you. The tips of his fingers graze your ribs, making you gasp. You never told him you were ticklish there. “Gotta eat the rich to feed the poor, babe.”
“What’s it gonna be, huh?” David draws your attention back to him.
You shrug your shoulders up to your ears. “What if I want two pretty things?”
David lifts a gloved hand and removes a cigarette from behind his ear. There’s a candle sitting on the makeshift vanity next to you. He holds the end over the flame to light it. His eyes drag down your form. His thumb traces the base of your jaw. “Nobody’s stoppin’ you from having all the pretty things you want.”
You stand, reveling in the way David’s gaze follows your every movement. He’s now looking up at you; it makes your chest heave with pride.
“Well, come on then, pretty thing. Let’s go get me some good stuff.”
The only hint you get that your teasing has affected David is the way he grips your thigh after guiding you onto his bike, tugging you as close as possible. Once you get to the strip, he hands you off to Marko, who slings an arm across your shoulders and leads you in the direction of a few stores, all their windows full of neon signs and flashing the shiniest of things at you. Every part of Marko jingles as you walk. It makes you smile. So does being with him. You feel so alive, strolling down the boardwalk. You breathe in the warm breeze, let your fingers twitch along to the music coming from further down the beach. Marko’s arm falls to the small of your back once you’re inside.
“So, what are we thinking? Sexy dress? Little skirt?”
Something catches your eye almost immediately. Marko follows behind you. You roll your eyes playfully at him. “Something nice.”
“Nice can mean a lot of things, babe,” he says. Both of your hands reach for a skirt at the same time and you burst into giggles. It’s this flowy purple thing, with strips of a shiny, almost silky fabric skating down it between the base layer of cotton. The way the two fabrics lay together makes it look like a jellyfish. You grab for your size and lift it from the rack. Marko takes it and slings it over his arm.
You walk a few more feet and Marko pushes forward to show you something. “You gotta try this one on. Needs a belt though—I’ll be right back.” His attention span (or lack thereof) gives you whiplash. The dress he’d manhandled sticks out of the rack and you take a moment to look it over. Dark green with loads of sparkly gold suns and moons all over it. Gorgeous, you think. Marko returns with a belt you’d never choose for yourself and a pair of boots. You follow him to the dressing room.
“You better model ‘em for me!” he calls back.
You come out in the skirt first. He places his fingers in his mouth and whistles. “Marko!” you fuss.
“What? You look killer. That’s how normal people react.”
You twist and turn in the mirror, taking it in. It hugs the right places and twirls in the others. It makes you look hypnotizing, in a way.
“M’kay, we’re getting that one,” Marko says. “Put the dress on and if the boots don’t fit, I’ll grab you another size.”
The boots end up being too roomy, so you wait to examine the whole thing until he’s brought you the smaller pair. You loved the first one, but when you look at yourself in this one, your ears burn. It’s got these little straps that accentuate your collarbones and make your shoulders look strong, yet delicate.
“The boots were a good touch.” You turn to Marko. He flashes you a mischievous grin. You even like the belt. You’re practically ogling yourself, marveling in Marko’s handiwork. New movement catches your eye and you spin, locking eyes with David. His forearm rests on Marko’s shoulder, who’s looking way too pleased with himself. A toothpick bobs between David’s lips. A smile starts to play on his features.
“Don’t you look gorgeous,” he says. Your stomach flips, unsure of the appropriate reaction to this attention. You choose to turn back toward the mirror.
“Which one do you think I should get?” you ask, swallowing hard.
You catch Marko smiling like he knows something you don’t.
“You’ll get both,” David says. He takes a few steps closer to you. Marko grabs the skirt from inside the dressing room, snatches the belt from your waist. You shuffle backward and change back into your street clothes. Marko disappears with everything you’d tried on in hand.
David’s thumb brushes the pulse point on your wrist so lightly you think you might have imagined it. “You looked good enough to eat in that dress,” he breathes.
“Ha. Ha.”
He takes your hand in his and kisses up your exposed forearm. His eyes darken and for a moment you think he might not have meant that comment in the vampire way. He doesn’t let go of you, guiding you back outside where you find the rest of the boys. Dwayne sits on his bike, a cigarette between his index and middle fingers. Paul skips in your direction, hand coming up to play with your earring and then twirl your hair around. “Heard you got a new outfit,” he starts. “Gonna share it with me?”
You snort. He looks so thrilled. “Sure thing. Purple really is your color.” You look down at where he’s fidgeting with a watch you don’t remember him having before. “Can you tell time, Paulie?”
You hear Dwayne laugh. He must’ve surprised himself because he coughs, smoke spiling from his nostrils and clouding around his head. Marko pats him roughly on the back before stealing his cig and taking a puff from it. When he goes to hand it back, Dwayne holds up a hand and makes a face.
“Can I tell time—yes! I can tell time, you punk,” Paul fusses.
“Is that new?” you ask him.
He nods. “Finders keepers, or whatever.” He and Marko lose themselves in a fit of giggles. The realization has your brows shooting up. You turn, looking for David. He stands beside his bike, on the opposite end from Dwayne’s and next to Marko’s. He flicks the top to his lighter open and shut as he scans the beach beyond the end of the boardwalk, clusters of people jumping and scream-singing. You swear the music has gotten louder. Muscle cars rev in the distance and a group of college-aged kids in bathing suits play bocce ball in the sand, despite the darkness. You fall into place next to David, your fingers subconciously reaching for his belt loops and grabbing hold. Something catches your eye when he looks down at you. Something on the underside of his chin, like it had run down from his mouth.
You use your thumb to swipe at the mark. Still-wet blood shines on your skin. Before you can say anything, or even process the finding enough to form words, David’s gloved hand is taking your wrist. He brings your thumb to his mouth and locks eyes with you. He sucks the blood from your finger, tongue laving over your skin. Fire shoots through you, makes your breath catch and your knees weak. He keeps your thumb in his mouth longer than necessary.
When he pulls away, there’s a question in his eyes. You nod, just barely.
The palm of his hand rests on your throat as he kisses you, teeth nipping your bottom lip. His other hand flattens over your spine and pushes, getting you to arch into him. His earring brushes your cheek. All the air is gone from your lungs—you’re sure of it. He’s devouring you.
Kissing you like he needs it.
He licks into your mouth and you hear a strangled moan release itself from his throat. It makes you grin and that gets you in trouble, his hand lowering to your ass where it squeezes, grip mean. Something clicks in your mind then, the longer he kisses you. It cements in your brain and you kiss him once more. When you pull back you think he knows, too.
“Jesus H. Christ, man!” Paul shouts, a hand over his stomach as he howls with laughter. Marko joins in, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Powers,” he quips. Dwayne doesn’t say anything, doesn’t chuckle, but he looks at you like he knows exactly what just happened. Like he knew before you did.
————
It’s your night off. At dusk, you slip your new dress on over your head. You stand in front of your bathroom mirror and figure out a way to situate your hair. At nightfall, you leave in search of him.
You make your way to the boardwalk, pace unhurried. You pass their bikes and drag the tips of your fingers over the handlebars of David’s. You continue to the beach, begin to wade through the sand. It’s cool tonight, and a breeze ruffles the fabric covering your body. It tickles your knees. You inhale deeply, filling your lungs.
You know he’s here. You can feel that he is. You’re unsure of when that connection came to be, but it doesn’t unsettle you.
Your steps slow. You close your eyes and turn your face up to the moon. One of your hands reaches out from your side, just the slightest bit. When his bare palm slides into yours and his fingers thread between your own, you open your eyes. The feeling of his skin pressed against yours does something magical to your insides. The only word you can draw up that might describe it is ancient.
“Hi, beautiful,” David says.
You squeeze his hand and turn to him. You lift up on your toes and kiss him, the press of your lips soft and careful. A grin takes over David’s face—slowly but surely. He chooses not to say anything, not to bat an eye at your gesture. His thumb rubs continuously over the back of your hand.
“You came to me,” you say. “Because you knew I had something to tell you?”
He bends, leveling his mouth with your ear.
“Because I’ll always come to you,” he whispers.
You take his hand in both of yours and bring it up to your chest, placing it over your heart. “You mean that,” you say. It’s a statement. David’s free hand settles on your cheek, his skin soft, touch even softer. He presses his lips to your forehead and lets them linger there.
“I do.” His voice is still a whisper, for your ears only.
“Do you already know what it is that I want to tell you?” you ask him.
He smirks. Of course. “I want you to tell me anyway.”
Your eyes never leave his. Blue irises staring right back at you, patient.
“I want to be with you,” you say. “I’ve decided to give up sunlight.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then David smiles at you. A real, big one. He wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes, eveloping you in leather and smoke and a little bit of sugar. “I’ll take care of you,” he says, pulling your face back so that you’re looking at him, so that you feel his words. “I”ll come whenever you call. Give you as much or as little as you want.”
You begin to walk again, though back in the direction of the boardwalk. Someone’s dog runs up to you, a full-grown husky, and you crouch, letting his wet nose run over your chin, your hands scratching behind his ears. A whistle draws him away but the brilliant smile he brought to your face stays. David, a few steps behind you, fights to swallow down the lump that’s formed in his throat. Something burns in his chest. It reminds him of when he was new to this, when he kept learning new things against his will. It burned. But the feeling doesn’t scare him this time.
“Do the boys know, too?” you ask him. David just smiles.
————
You’re holding the bottle in your hand. “If I’ve had, say, a decades—maybe a decade and a half—worth of periods, this should be a breeze,” you joke. Dwayne chuckles, impressed, but Marko and Paul look at you with a little fear in their eyes.
“It’s not so bad,” Dwayne says. “Paul had it rough, but, y’know.” His tone soothes your nerves, effortless as it may be.
“Heard that, dick!” Paul shouts, playing cards with Marko at the far side of the cave.
You turn to look at David, focusing on his eyes. They look gray tonight. He takes your hand, grip gentle but firm. Steady. You bring the bottle to your lips and drink. You know they could be making a show out of this, could be cheering and dancing and causing a raucous. You didn’t ask them not to; they made the choice on their own. Something tells you it’ll come later. You swallow, and maybe you were expecting a frightening sensation to take over you, but really it’s just gradual. It feels both cold and warm, which shouldn’t make sense, but it does. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just a change. There’s a flutter in the pit of your stomach, similar to how you feel before you do something you’ve been looking forward to. Giddiness?
“You kinda taste like shit, David,” you laugh, throwing your head back to take another sip. David takes the bottle.
“Alright,” he chuckles, “that’s enough for you.”
After a while, you notice that the other boys have disappeared, leaving David and you in silence.
You lean over and rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m gonna have to bite people's heads off, aren’t I?” You’re whispering.
David laughs through his nose. “You don’t have to. I can do it for you—give you an arm or somethin’ to chew on.”
When you lift your head from his shoulder, he’s smiling at you. You smile back. “But when it comes time for you to feed, it’ll be easier.” You nod. “Dwayne can spot a deserving asshole from a mile away. If that’s what you were worried about.”
Your expression turns softer. “I didn’t think you just ate anyone, you know. But that helps.”
His thumb brushes your jaw. He still wears his gloves around you, but at some point he began to remove them if he planned to touch you.
“Good.”
Your eyes refuse to leave his face. They travel up and down, side to side—memorizing. There’s a tiny scar on his forehead, tinier creases at the corners of his eyes. You slide your index finger down his nose, grinning at the way it tilts up at the end. You can’t help it.
“What are you doing?” he asks, nose scrunching when your nails drag behind his ears. He must be ticklish there.
“You told me that no one was stopping me from havin’ all the pretty things I want.” He raises a brow. You grab him by the collar.
“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever wanted.”
David blushes. You push up on your knees and move to straddle him. His hands are quick to find your hips and help, like he’s eager for you. Like he’d been waiting for you. For how long? you wonder, the thought a flicker of emotion.
You settle on his lap and cup his face in your hands. His slide to rest on your ass, grip gentler than you think he wants to be with you.
“You’re so pretty, David.”
When you lean down to kiss him, he sighs into your mouth. He lets you lead, but the rest of him gets greedy. One of his arms snakes around your back, holding you to him, locking your hips snug against his. The metal of his bracelet cools your burning skin through the thin fabric of your dress. He lets you slide his coat off his shoulders. Even one less layer of armor on him makes it easier to breathe.
His hand slides up to rest on your throat. You let your head fall back and breathe out a moan. His mouth attacks your collarbones, kisses morphing into languid licks and drags of teeth against delicate skin. His grip on your neck is firm, commanding. Possessive. At some point his hand travels to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, and he begins manipulating the angle of your head that way. His lips travel down to your exposed shoulders, across your chest, skating over the top most part of your sternum.
“David…”
He looks up at you and his eyes flash amber. He hears the way your heart jumps and thinks for a second he might’ve scared you, but then your hips rock down against his and he groans. A sinful smile graces your lips.
“Fuckin’ terror,” he mumbles, though you can feel him grinning where his face rests against your chest.
You giggle, a little maniacally, and then David’s picking you up off his lap and carrying you to one of the lesser-worn mattresses they brought home at some point or another. His hands slip under your long dress and drag all the way up your legs—calves, knees, thighs. He touches you like you’re the only thing he was ever meant to touch. Like he’s leaving prints behind.
He stops when he’s just below your panties, palms staying below the bunched fabric. He kisses you once, hard, stealing the breath from your lungs. He bites your bottom lip, drawing the smallest bit of blood. The moment his hands leave your body, you sit up and open your eyes.
He extinguished all the light.
“David,” you shout, “if you scare me, I’ll beat your ass! The second I get all these vampire powers and shit, you won’t—”
David has whooshed by and snatched you up, thrown you over his shoulder. There’s no better way to describe it. He takes you up to the top of the cave, laughing at your mix of shrieking and giggling.
“What was it you were saying?” he challenges, voice carrying over wind.
You’re hovering above the ocean now, right where sand meets salty water. He holds you to his chest and despite the way your heart is pounding, you know he won’t drop you. You try to catch your breath, a dazed look on your face.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Are you taking advantage of my weak, human nature before I turn and inevitably become more powerful than you?”
“Yes,” David responds. His features shift and he’s showing you the other side of himself. You still think he’s just as beautiful. When you smile at him, his eyes sink back to blue, but his fangs stay long enough to drag over the skin of your neck. You kiss him, pressing your overwhelming infatuation into his lips. It feels like your mouths were made for each other. Your entire bodies do.
He hooks one of your legs over his hip and gets you both a little higher in the sky. You’re quiet when he turns so that you face the boardwalk, hovering far above the lights bright and flickering, thumping music.
You watch people move in waves, dancing, pushing into stores, fighting for a parking spot. You can see so much of Santa Carla from here. Probably more than you ever would’ve seen.
“This,” David says, “is all ours. Whatever you want, you can have. I’ll make sure of it.”
You glance up at him. “I know. But I don’t want for much.”
The corner of his lips tick up. “No? Just my eternal devotion?”
“That’s a given. Now, take me home, gorgeous.”
————
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
Now that I’ve seen it twice here are some little details/things from The Lost Boys that I absolutely adore (SPOILERS)
- Michael’s confusion of where the cigarette went after David steals it and unfreezes time
- Dwayne offering said cigarette because “it’ll relax you” right before they try to kill him.
- Paul and Dwayne playing around with the cop hat, and David putting it on Dwayne’s head
- Max getting that faraway look in his eyes when Lucy says “teenagers, right?” (he does it again when she mentions how Pete didn’t show up to work)
- The amount of pissed David gets when he’s interrupted by Max.
- “I am NOT your friend!”
- Michael inviting Max in and IMMEDIATELY leaving, slamming the door behind him (this is the funniest bit in the show to me for some reason, it REALLY gets me)
- The way it looks like David’s eyes are glowing during the motorcycle scene (and the fact that his voice ACTUALLY SOUNDS LIKE A FUCKING MOTORCYCLE?? Ali Louis Bourzgui the man that you are).
- Michael and Star’s “what the fuck are these kids talking about” look while Sam and the Frog brothers make their plans
- Star and Michael playing footsie off the edge of the pier
- Michael breathing super heavy after Star suddenly hugs him (and consequently how close he holds her every time after that moment)
- The way Michael tries to stop David from lifting his shirt the second time he does it (and in general all the times he subconsciously has a hand hovering over where the bruise is. So many of LJ’s acting choices are so subtly devastating).
- The way Michael fucking RUNS to hug his mom once Max is dealt with
- The alchemical symbol on the back of David’s jacket
- The ensemble playing on the playground set from Wild during the Have to Have You reprise and sinking down with it
- Michael telling Sam to “cover him” because he knows it’s the only way he can actually get Sam to leave the room and not be in direct danger from David
- And probably one of the most understated but gorgeous moments of the whole show: When Michael and Lucy make eye contact through where the wall of the bathroom would theoretically be separating them, framed by the stars. I fucking love theatre, man.
Pointing out things in the script until we get the cast album part 4
I love that David gives Michael his earring. I just do. And the fact that he smiles when he puts said earring into Michael's ear even though its a bit painful for Michael is so him. I dont know why I love that detail but I just do.
"It'll relax you man" said the vampire to a human whom he wants to feed on. Perfection. I love Dwayne so much. I just do.
Also the fact that the minute the fact that Star likes musicians is mentioned Michael immediately accepts the guitar is hilarious.
"You just strum. Let me do the neck." Is quite possibly became my favorite line ever. It is so good. It is ingenious. David is so clever for saying this. 😍😍 Also please please please can I get a guitar teacher like David. Please.
The instant dislike between Sammy and Dwayne. I mean yeah Sam will eventually kill Dwayne but it is so nice that from moment one they build into a mutual dislike between them. Also I love how disrespectful all of the boys are towards Max implying that they had enough of him being head vampire. And then Max saying that is not safe at night. Sure. But you are part of the reason why it is not safe.
