Real World

By Michael Yost

Published on Jan 15, 2003

Gay

Christov had a mental image thrown at him. His wrists cuffed to the bedpost. Mayers thick meaty cock nestled in its gray pubic hair, pushing inside his crack, prodding into his anus. Pushing thought his tight sphincter ring, entering his narrow rectum, Pounding his old man's body against his thighs. His belly resting on his back. His hand pulling at his testicles and his moist, quivering cock.

Disgust and anger ate Christov. He remembered how he made himself fantasize about a porno movie to make himself hard. Then Mayer's hands, mouth and cock dominated his body just like it did when Mayer's was in his twenties. Christov's body went rigid with frantic anger over being fucked by a man he started out liking disdainfully, and now despised.

Mayers cock spasmed, ejaculating inside of him. Christov's spine tingled from the force of the man playing and jerking on his cock. He ejaculated into Meyer's hand. The cop uncuffed him, lifting him up, and placing him under the covers of the bed, forcing him to kiss him, touching Christov's sensitive cock, finger playing with his sore rectum. Going at his trapped, helpless body all night long, murmuring undying love. The sixty year old man turned into the twenty some year old man of Christov's past. A young Meyer's was laying in bed next to him, going for his pack of cigarettes, taking one out, a smug satisfied look on his face. Plotting always plotting, promising himself he'd protect Christov while he was out in the streets and once he got his promotion then he would force Christov to move in with him where he could keep him till death would they only part.

Christov will see it my way when arrests start to happen. He'll see himself as a hero and me too. This is all for his own good. After the case is closed all it will take will be my leaking out the truth at the right moment about Christov's undercover work.

Christov will be a dead man if he dares to go out into the streets once everyone knows about him. He'll need to go into the witness protection program. And I'm going to be the cop to protect him. Mayers took a long draw on his cigarette, thinking, I almost felt like telling him to stop when he told me he loved me. How do I know he's telling me the truth? Lately, he's been hanging out with that sissy blond. No, it's better this way for both of us. Christov doesn't have many options in life, a young Meyres reasoned over the guilt he was feeling, I'm rescuing him. Hell, I'm risking my life on the streets too. The same as him. Once I have the evidence I need to arrest the boss of the drug cartel he's off the streets living a cushy life. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to him for his having to sleep with drug dealers and getting beat up by them for kicks. If he wants to be a whore; he can whore for me. I'll make captain once the case is done and he'll go invisible. It won't do for anyone on the force to know about him.

"You got the drugs from the dealer?" Mayers asked, blowing smoke.

"Yes," Christov said dully.

"Listen, I so much as get to thinking you're peddling your ass to that fairy Henri I'll start thinking I'm going to have to investigate into the possibility of Henri having something to do with the drug dealers murders."

"I told you they were hits from rival gangs," Christov said tightly. "Give me enough time and I'll ferret out their hit man. I'll get you a name. Think of the publicity you'll get." Christov thought of the night he went to see his trick at the Shadyview rest home. His trick was in his nineties, Looked like a mummy without the wrappings. A nice enough mummy. All he required was a blow job and a little conversation later which Christov didn't mind giving. The guy just needed to be touched . Missed how it felt to be touched by another human being other than being poked and prodded by doctors, nurses, and orderlies. One night Christov went into his room. He saw a blond guy with a velvet jacket and slacks, ruffles at the neck of his shirt. The blond was kneeling, his face close to Christov's trick's face. The blond turned his face to Christov Christov saw the most dazzling blue eyes he ever seen on a guy. The guy introduced himself as Henri. Henri gifted him with a sincere smile and said, 'I know you. We've met.'

'In a dream right? 'Christov smirked, 'Hey, you got to get out of here. Me and Charlie have a date.'

Henri left, and Christov found Charlie was dead

After that he noticed Henri in other rest homes he had tricks at. Patiently talking with the residents, giving them little gifts, always being kind and patient with them, always invaluably in a matter of days there would be a dead body. Christov couldn't make up his mind whether Henri was just a nice guy, or a nice guy who just happened to have an angel of death complex who killed off really sick old people.

Later in the nights, he'd always run into Henri who always had a cup of hot, sugared coffee waiting for him. They'd talk, joke around, before Christov did his work for Meyers. To Christov's surprise he felt anticipation every day, felt anxious for it to be night so he could see Henri again, feeling even if he was possibly an angel of death type of guy at least he could understand that kind of death dealing. Ending a person's loneliness and suffering. Nice, harmless, could be a killer of old people, not drug dealers, he thought, until the night after they found another drug dealer in pieces.

After they took the dealer's body into the ambulance, Christov found a pair of bloody, velvet gloves in a trash can where the dealer had stashed a package for him to pick up. Henri appeared out of nowhere, a quizzical smile on his face. Christov left the gloves in the trash can, hurriedly telling Henri he had a trick waiting for him and he had to go.

Damn it couldn't be him. Christov thought to himself in his bed, rolling on his side, away from Mayers, I can't believe someone as gentle as Henry could cut someone's guts out. I have to ask around. Find out who really is doing this before they start noticing Henri's always around when a body is found and they start getting suspicious about the old people dying. Roscoe could be the one doing it. He's crazy enough for drugs and money

"That Henri guy, something about him isn't right. Funny how drugs can be found on people you wouldn't think of being the user type," Mayers said with a smirk, "Wonder what an investigation would turn up on him."

"Yes, funny, ha, ha," Christov said tightly, "An investigation would turn up nothing on him. You don't seem to mind my sleeping for free with drug dealers and whoring with other guys."

"It's all for a good cause, baby. Henri's different. The guy is sweet on you. He blows your clear headed edge you need to be alert about what you're doing. You start day dreaming and you might make a big mistake. You keep it cool between you two. You know the sad thing about gay guys? You can beat the shit out of them. I'm telling you Christov I can knock a baton against a gay's skull, and he's not going to make a peep about police brutality, In fact, they gratefully would take another kick in the face as long as you don't blow their cover. None of them want their employers, their wives, or the kiddies, mummy, and daddy to know about their propositioning whores or cruising for free meat. Think dainty Henri could take a good blow to the head? I don't think so. Now tell me what you got."

"The guy who gave me the drugs is going to be working 42nd street. Give it a week, then arrest him. He has a black book of all his sources stashed at his place. Here," Christov threw him a thin address book, "This has all the information you need on decoding the code he uses in his black book. You'll find the book under his bed under a loose plank in the floor. Do I have to sell these drugs?"

"Of course you do. How else are you going to keep your cover? That's what makes you the perfect partner for any cop. You can do all those bad boy things undercover cops can't do," Mayers said. playing with his service revolver.

"You get everything you want don't you rich boy?" Christov said, bitterly.

"Everything eventually comes my way," Mayer's said smugly, "You just have to learn how to work the angles."

Christov stared at the ceiling his stomach turning. What if Henri is the killer. What if?

Chrisotv said, "What if I end up like those drug dealers. You still going to want to screw my pussy when it's cut apart? Still gonna like the smell of me when I look like meat cut up for stew?"

Mayers looked sharply at the figure on the bed, "No one gets the privilege of killing you."

"You coming?"

Christov looked through the smoke of Mayer's cigarette. He was out of his memories and back in the restaurant. Mayers wrinkled old man's face looking at him with naked anticipation. Christov could smell the dementia in the old man's breath.

Sure, let's go," Christov said, leaving the restaurant with Mayers who couldn't keep his old man's hands from from caressing his ass, Christov broke out in a dead run, Mayers screaming at him to stop.

Running blocks away from Mayers, ducking into a Walgreens store, Christov grabbed a black Halloween fright wig. Purchasing it at the counter, he stormed outside.

"Christov," Henri ordered, confronting him, "We have no choice . We have to leave Chicago Now!"

Slamming the wig on Henri's blond head, Christov yelled, "Wear this for now Blondie! So he doesn't recognize you!!!! You didn't mind hanging out in New York years ago when he was investigating your kills!"

"That was unpardonable on my part," Henri said, "I had my reasons."

"Me, me, I was your reason! That bastard. I hate him. He made me do things. I hate him."

"You cared about him," Henri said wearily.

"Fuck, I did, How can you say that? In the thirty years we have been together have I ever, ever tried to go back to him!!"

"No," Henri admitted smiling.

"I'm going to kill him! NO!! I won't disgrace my fangs on that, that police man. Henri kill him for me. No!! Pete can kill him," Christov groaned.

"I would be happy to kill him for you mon ami except for the fact he knows my name," Henri said troubled.

"What??!! SO What!! Oh not that dumb rule of etiquette One doesn't go around killing someone who knows your name," Christov said heatedly.

"Josh can kill him," Henri reasoned.

"Ha! I see where you're going with this you want me to be beholden to Josh! Never, I won't allow Josh to come near that black mailer. Nor Pete, nor even that kiddy coven. Michael, Michael has it in him to be unscrupulous. Michael's filthy enough to be worthy of killing that bastard."

"Christov it doesn't mater who kills him. If we know one policeman is investigating this found corpse's death other's are too. Chicago is becoming too dangerous for any vampire to hunt in. It's time to move on."

"We'll find hosts at retirements villages and live off of little drinks for a while,' Christov said hotly, "That cop is not going to run me and my family out of town."

"Christov you're taking this way to personal. Are you sure now that you have seen Mayers again it isn't a case of wanting his company again? You know what they say about the line between love and hate being a thin line."

"Fuck me Henri, Christov said coldly, "Fuck me and get it over with. You know that's what you want to do."

Shoving Christov backwards, Henri said angerily, "How do you know what I want!"

"All I know is if you gave a damn about me you wouldn't accuse me of wanting to bed Meryes of all people!"

"Sorry," Henri breathed angrily.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry Christov thought to himself Christov said, "Henri do you have any loose change on you? Let's get this over with. Then we can leave each other!"

"Non," Henri said, amazed at the capacity of hurt Christov could make him feel.

Christov shivered. He almost blurted you Would you please hold me. You liar. Take me to our crypt and, and touch me for free.

Shaking his head, Christov backed away thinking, No if I you had told me the truth, if you had told me what you were from the very beginning, I would have told Mayers to kiss my ass. I would have taken a bus out of Chicago. I knew Mayers didn't have it in him to send me to jail for hooking. I knew he wouldn't hurt me if I left him. Then I ended up meeting you, and I ended up protecting you of all people from Mayers. If you had told me the truth he would of had nothing to hold over my head. It's all your fault I never had any feelings for Mayers. He was a control freak. I didn't dare tell him I didn't love him or I didn't want to be in his schemes. I thought you were a mortal, and perhaps the killer too, I was as trying my hardest to prove you were innocent. And you were as guilty as hell. He would have used any excuse to arrest you innocent or not. I paid enough for you by sleeping with a man I hated every night. A man I wanted to escape from. It's enough for you isn't it? I thought you were weak, a helpless fool who was in danger for his life. I thought an ecentric jerk like you wouldn't last five minutes in prison. They would have hurt you, beat you, even rape you in the slammer. I humiliated myself, lowered myself, sold drugs to people, fucked who every Mayers told me to fuck, let a man own me for you. I never felt so laughed at in all my life. All for your sake. Why in the hell did you move me? You bastard.

Sure we're friends that's why you kept the truth from me about what you were, Christov thought bitterly

Closing his eyes, Christov felt himself move closer to Henri. Henri's cold breath on his face. Yes, we're friends. We traveled together. We laughed, we danced together. You saved my life when you took a bullet for me long ago. It wasn't your fault you weren't honest with me I wasn't honest with you. I could of told you Mayers' suspicions of you. I was ashamed to let you know know much Mayers owned me, so I gave you a cock and bull story about how I was working undercover for my cop boyfriend because I liked the excitement. I lied to you too. I was ashamed to tell you how much I felt about you. Christov's lips parted, he closed his lips, thinking resentfully, What the hell am I thinking? You owned me as much as Mayers owned me. You fuck. I tell myself it doesn't hurt. Why should I care. I don't care. You're only Henri. And I'm not in love with you. I'm not. Why am I doing this to us? I'm imagining the feelings I think you feel for me. You never laid a hand on me in all our years together. You're no more in love with me than I'm in love with you. You made it clear to me you weren't in love with me when you gave me your blood. Now Mayers comes back to haunt us both.

"What am I really to you?" Christov blurted out roughly.

"We're friends," Henri said, fearful of rejection, thinking, I did make you out of only friendship. I would never create a fledging out of love. Our conversations about your life amused me. Your hard boiled sense of humor. I felt sorry for you, just like I felt sorry for all the fledglings I created. After I created you for a long time you amused me, you only amused me, and that was it. I never wanted one of my fledglings for a lover. And when I parted with a fledging, except for one long ago who fell in love with me, we always parted on good terms. I never want to part from you. You couldn't possibly love me like I've grown to love you over the years. I never thought it would have been possible for me to fall in love with an uneducated prostitute.

Shaking his head, Christov backed away from Henri who was standing mute like a statue. Christov said coldly, "Why don't you just fuck me? Why not slap me around? You don't have to wait to till you have change, you can just take it. You're my creator. My master. You have rights over me to do whatever you want with me. Many will not blame you, or condemn you."

"I'm not, nor will I ever be your master," Henri cried.

"No, you are my master," Christov accused "You know you are."

"Stop it. I created you to be my companion. I didn't create you out of any passion," Henri said, tears filling in his throat.

Silently, Christov's body fell from tenseness into being relaxed. If I could love a man it would be you. If I could get over what happened. What you cost me, Christov thought, I have to find you a lover, so we can remain friends, and put our shameful past behind us. I will never tell you about what I did for you. How I protected you from Mayers all out of what I thought was love.

"Let's go home," Henri urged, smiling bleakly at Christov.

"Christov," Henri whispered, taking him by his shoulder.

Shrugging out of Henri's grasp, Christov smiled at him, saying "Let go of the merchandise. Too bad it's too late to go clubbing. The boy you danced with last night was glorious."

"He was just a boy. Just a prop," Henri said abashed.

"You looked really mortal. I liked watching you dance with him. He kissed you and whispered to you. You left with him. How was his bedroom?"

"I took a little drink," Henri said, his young man's face tightening.

"I hope you kissed him. I hope you fucked him. You could use some action," Christov laughed, "You want to know how I spent last night after you left it with your boy?"

"You didn't spend it with anyone," Henri said, frostily, "I came back to the club after dinning, and only dining, and you were still there. We went back to the cemetery together."

"I will, I will spend a night with someone. The pickings are slim here," Christov said, curling his lips disdainfully, playing with his long hair, "You always thought it was funny my scores."

"I laughed along with you," Henri said stiffly, his heart sinking, knowing in the beginning he did think Christov's whoring was funny, "I know it's just business."

"Right business," Christov lightly laughed.

A face appeared in front of them. An ancient so far gone in age his eyes were like a glass doll's, his gestures quick and lizard like, he nodded to Christov.

"I'm spending the night some place else, Henri," Christov said watching the ancient walk away, thinking, I care for Henri, but love? Go to hell. Never. Love doesn't exist, it's a stupid, hurtful joke people play on themselves. The night I found out I was all along making a fool out of myself protecting a vampire from a mere mortal was the night it was over between us.

"If only you could see yourself in that fright wig. What a monster you are. You look hilarious," Christov said tersely.

"Oui, I'm a hilarious monster," Henri said sadly

"That is what is so wonderful about us. We make each other laugh," Christov said. "We're so amusing to each other. Watch me play. Watch me make a score." Christov stepped away from Henri, following the ancient with the orange dyed hair, laughing, he took the arm of the ancient, putting his head on his shoulder. Whispering his best dirty talk into his ear.

"And he scores," Henri whispered, going alone to the crypt.

The next night Pete was making his way to the Real World House.

Leaping for his throat, grabbing him by his shoulder, Lena yelled, "You!" She dragged him into an alley.

Confused, Pete choked out, "Lena why are you so upset?"

"Because Ovid came back to the tomb last night in an utterly in a pissy mood, and you're the cause of it."

Putting his thumbs into his huge coverse pants, Pete's face had the pallor of guilt

Christov listened behind a dumpster, holding a victim by his lapels, taking languid drinks from the dying mortal.

"Lena I didn't do anything to Ovid," Pete mumbled.

"That's the problem!" Lena raged, "Pete, Ovid likes you. He doesn't fall for guys as hard as he's fallen for you!"

"I like Ovid too," Pete said in a faltering tone.

"The why don't you show him you like him instead of acting like some kind of a professional tight ass virgin?'

"I'm not a professional virgin," Pete cried out hotly, "Ovid understands where I'm coming from. I don't have to sleep with every guy who happens to like me!"

Sighing with contentment, Christov sucked on his victim's salty neck, Christov's eyes were half closed.

"You know Ovid doesn't have to put up with your little virgin act, he's been more than considerate. He could just pin you down and rape you. Emil and I would be happy to hold you down for him."

Biting hard on his victim's neck, Christov's eyes flew wide open. He started to growl in his throat.

"I have not been teasing Ovid. I've always been up front with him about how I felt about him," Pere said, trying to calm down, "Lena, Ovid agreed to allow me to go with your coven to Europe. I haven't done anything on purpose to hurt Ovid."

Throwing the victim to the ground, Christov jumped out from behind the dumpster.

Pete when were you going to tell us you're going to Europe," "he cried.

"Soon," Pete mumbled.

"You're leaving us" Henri said coming up the ally.

"Yes, " Ovid said joining the group, "Pete's agreed to join our coven. First stop will be Paris."

I see," Christov smiling tightly, "This is wonderful, let me take you all to the old Russian cafe around the corner and lets discuss this."

Christov escorted the the group to a dump of a cafe. Once they were inside Christov ordered a round of coffee from the young waitress in her pink uniform. Outside two burly men were beating the hell out of each other. The older man getting the worst of the battle.

"This is all so sudden," Henri said putting his hot coffee mug to his face.

I'm glad you're going. It's about you got out on your own," Christov said merrily. The florescent lights overhead gave Lena and Ovid gray tints to their faces.

"You'll love Paris, Pete," Christov gushed, thinking We'll follow them every night from a safe distance.

"This is a celebration, we should have music. Look a juke box. I'll put in a quarter. Henri help me pick out a song. Now!" Christov ordered dragging Henri to the juke box.

The unpleasantness of the night before forgotten, Christov whispered to Henri. "We have to get plane tickets to Paris."

"But mon ami, The whole purpose of Pete meeting this coven was for him to become independent from our care."

"I was wrong!! Look at Pete. Look at the mince meat babies he's joining up with. There is no way we are not following them to Paris. What if they meet up with a dangerous ancient? Some nut case!"

"Your fears are overly exaggerated. Pete will be fine," Henri whsipered.

"He will not be fine!" Christov whispered, putting a quarter into the juke box. Janis Joplin's song "Me and Boobie McGee" filled the restaurant.

"When are you leaving?" Christov said going back to the table with Henri "We'll mss you all. Bon voyage. See you around. Later, Pete, " he lied thought his fangs.

"What were you two arguing about ?"Pete said suspiciously.

"There no need for you and Henri to concern yourself with protecting this coven" Michael said, pulling out a chair, "They are under my protection if Ovid wants me as a part of his coven."

With his eyes sensuous and hot Michael scanned Ovid over. Then he turned the complement of his interest onto Lena making the tough little girl blush furiously.

TBC

Next: Chapter 37


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate