seen from China
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seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from Russia
Edward gallantly offers his neck to a hangry vampire!Cheslock but the idea has to be scrapped after several unsuccessful attempts; it turns out Edward is exceptionally ticklish sensitive there
On the bright side, his friend is no longer angry
(still hungry, though)
(they end up breaking into the kitchens at midnight again)
Raw
“But it’s stealing,” Edward frets quietly, tugging at the sleeve of Cheslock’s robe.
“No, it’s not,” Cheslock whispers back. He continues onward, pulling a very reluctant Edward along with him. An owl hoots somewhere in the distance. “That meat’s for the students, Ed. You’re a student.”
“Yes, but- not in the middle of the night! And we’re not supposed to be stealing from the kitchens!”
“Ya hungry or not?”
Edward nods reluctantly. Like it or not, he is hungry. The approaching full moon isn’t kind to his lupine instincts. But it’s…
“It’s not stealing,” Cheslock repeats. Turning, he flashes a sharp grin at his friend. “C’mon, live dangerous for once in your life.”
“I live dangerously every month, Cheslock! And please keep your voice down!”
“Don’t start cryin’ on me now, Midford. We’re almost there.”
Another protest dies in Edward’s throat.
A creamy waxing gibbous slips out from behind a cloud, and a tremor shoots up his spine.
Cheslock does the actual liberating, so he calls it.
Edward still calls it stealing.
He huddles tightly against the wall outside while the vampire makes his selections from the meat storage and silently prays that no one else is out and about tonight.
His stomach growls angrily at him, and he winces. Hungry isn’t the word for it anymore.
But it’s all wrong, and thoroughly ungentlemanly; all of this is terrible form, and he hates it. But even the hottest coil of shame can’t extinguish these cravings.
At least the latter can be alleviated…
Edward stifles a soft noise with considerable effort as Cheslock comes clambering triumphantly out of the window.
“Not here,” he murmurs, even though every instinct is screaming at him to snatch the bundle of raw steak from his friend’s hands and devour it. “Let’s go to the gazebo.”
“You’re drooling, Ed.”
“I am not!” Edward swipes his sleeve across his mouth.
“Yeah, you are. C’mon, let’s go get this into you before you attack som-”
“Don’t say that!”
“You know I hate it when you say that,” Edward pleads, his mouth full. The two hadn’t even seated themselves properly in the Swan Gazebo before the werewolf had grabbed the meat and torn into it like a starving animal. Which, technically… “Really, Cheslock-”
“Yeah, I know.” Cheslock throws a leg over his knee and waves a hand at the steak in Edward’s trembling hands. “I’m sorry. Just eat up, yeah?”
And Edward does just that.
Completely at odds with the elegant surroundings he may be, but he’s ravenously hungry, and if it means his fellow students will be safe over the next few nights- well, that’s what a gentleman does, isn’t it? Protects those around him? Even from himself, if need be?
“Stop thinking and eat, Ed.”
“I am eating.”
A ribbon of juice slips down his chin, and he catches it with his sleeve again.
“Good?” Cheslock asks, softer than usual, when the last of the meat is gone.
Edward nods, breathing hard.
“Better,” he says, and swallows. He breathes. “Thank you.”
“S’ no trouble. I like breaking into the kitchens. And I’d do anythin’ for ya, you know that.”
A tired smile breaks out over Edward’s face.
He does know.
Even if he wishes it wouldn’t be like this.
“Let’s get back to our dorms,” he says, pushing himself up from the bench.
“Sure ya don’t want any more?”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“See ya then, then.”
“Ches, I said maybe-”
The vampire grins at him anyway. “Yeah, yeah. Ya say that every night.”
“C’mon,” he adds, at Edward’s downcast face. “Ya gotta stop bein’ so ashamed of yourself.”
A soft breeze whispers into the gazebo. The moon vanishes behind a cloud, casting both of them into shadow.
Shadows are good. Shadows are safe.
“I know,” Edward murmurs.
“Good.”
There’s a somewhat-sloppily wrapped parcel on Edward’s chair the next day, though, and it smells temptingly like the repast of the previous night.
From the Violet Wolf table, Cheslock tosses over a wink.
Edward shakes his head, but smiles back.
