Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1023647
Summary: From the age of 8, Zayn is visited in his room once a year by Louis, asking for a place to hide. But while Zayn gets older, he notices that Louis doesn't.
~*~
It all started when Zayn was a kid.
His mum had kissed him goodnight and turned the lights of his bedroom off one October night. The 8 year old boy snuggled deeper into his warm covers, relishing the heat, protected from the ice cold wind outside. His mum had made sure to shut the window tight and close the door behind her.
He was just drifting off to sleep when he heard the sound of wood sliding slowly. It was coming from inside his room, over by the window.
Zayn’s eyes shot open. Oh god, was he getting robbed? Kidnapped? Was it a serial killer? He’d heard stories of murders and disappearances from the kids at school. Danny loved to tell scary stories and right now Zayn’s imagination was running wild with them. Then his thoughts flew to his sisters and mum and dad. What if they got hurt?
His curtains flew upward as a sudden gust of wind blew into his room, and Zayn’s heart leapt as he caught a split second glimpse of a crouching figure at the window. A sudden bout of goose bumps covered him – and it wasn’t just from the cold - as he peeked across the room over the top of his duvet. He was so scared.
He watched as a leg appeared below the window, a bare foot finding purchase on the floor, and Zayn counted the seconds in his head to what would surely be the end of his life. Would his mother come in to wake him up in the morning only to find his remains? Would the school hold an assembly for him?
Time seemed to slow down as the intruder climbed into his bedroom. And then all of a sudden, there they stood in the middle of the carpet. If Zayn screamed would it just speed up the inevitable? At the moment though, he could not even breathe properly, let alone find his voice.
Zayn’s eyes, adjusted to the dark, could just make out the silhouette of what was surely a male, but not a full grown man. He must have been a teenager, his frame small, height not daunting.
But he was coming closer.
Heart pounding loudly in his ears, Zayn ducked under the covers, unable to watch anymore. Over the sound of his heartbeat he could make out the sound of sniffing. A second later, from much, much closer, came a “Psst”.
A beat of silence and then it came again. “Psssst.”
“What do you want?” Zayn managed to get out, trying his hardest not to let his voice shake.
“Hey, mate, I need help.”
The voice was raspy and high pitched and definitely belonged to a teenager. Still, Zayn was not about to come up. For all he knew this kid was dangerous.
Then he spoke again. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m in trouble, please. I need to ask you a favour.”
Zayn, resolving to sound braver than he felt, spoke up. “Go away or I’ll call my dad on you!”
“No, no please don’t do that. Just come out and I’ll show you. I’m not here to hurt you. I promise,” he said gently.
There was something calming about the boy’s voice. Zayn said nothing. A few moments passed.
“Hey,” Zayn heard the boy say again. “Wanna see a cool trick? It’s worth it, come on, check it out.”
He hesitated. The boy had been here a good few minutes. Surely if he wanted to hurt Zayn he’d have done it by now? He took a few deep breaths and prepared himself, ready to scream if he needed to. Slowly, reluctantly, Zayn lifted the covers from over his head.
To his relief, the boy was back in the middle of his room, not as close as his voice had just sounded.
“There’s a good lad,” the boy said.
“What’s the trick?” Zayn asked dubiously.
The boy chuckled softly. “I can fly.”
Nothing much else could have prepared for what Zayn saw next. One second the boy was standing on the carpet, the next he was levitating in the middle of his bedroom. The boy proceeded to change his position many times while floating: from crossing his legs to reclining on thin air to somersaulting across the room.
At this point Zayn had to rub his eyes and truly question whether he was dreaming or not.
“See? Pretty cool, innit?” the boy said.
Zayn nodded, bewildered.
“I’m Louis, by the way. What’s your name? How old are you?”
“Zayn. I’m eight,” he mindlessly replied, still in shock over talking to someone who was apparently resistant to gravity.
“Nice to meet you, Zayn. Listen, mate, I’m afraid I’m in a bit of trouble. I’d rather not tell you exactly what, but I know you can help me. Especially now, since I know you’re brave.”
“Um,” Zayn said. By now his heartbeat had slowed down enough to pass for regular again.
“You don’t have to do anything. I just need a place to stay for the night so I can get some sleep. Somewhere dark. Your room is perfect. I would be so grateful to you.”
“I don’t have a spare bed,” Zayn replied, eyebrows furrowed. He somehow found himself wanting to help this odd boy with the hypnotic, raspy voice. He seemed genuine. And, so far, unlikely to hurt Zayn.
“That’s alright. I prefer the floor anyways. Particularly when it’s under a bed. Would you mind if I just slept under here? I promise not to hurt you or anyone in your house. You have my word, Zayn.”
Zayn watched as Louis knelt next to him and held out a delicate, slender-fingered hand. Next thing he knew he was taking Louis’ hand, the skin rough and cold but not unpleasant, and shaking firmly.
“That’s a nice strong grip you’ve got,” Louis remarked.
Zayn smiled, despite the complete absurdity of the situation. “Are… are you gonna sleep? What if someone sees you?”
“Oh don’t worry about that. I’ll be gone before anyone wakes up. I promise. You can trust me, Zayn,” he said with what sounded like a smile.
Something about Louis made Zayn want to please him and help him and it made Zayn feel good knowing that he was doing that. So he just took a deep breath and watched as Louis got down on the floor and slid under his bed, not considering what the strange boy was hiding from or how he was going to sleep under there.
All he knew was that he was exhausted, so he lay back down, his room silent again except from his own breathing and the wind outside, and fell asleep, the last words he heard being “Good night, Zayn. Thank you for your help. It’s probably best not to tell anyone I was here.”
When Zayn woke up the next morning and checked under his bed, it was empty.
Over the next few days, Zayn convinced himself that the incident with the boy who called himself Louis was definitely a dream. He didn’t come again and Zayn didn’t mention it to anyone, knowing that it was absurd and most definitely a product of his imaginative mind. So he soon forgot about it ever happening and continued life as before.
Until October of the next year.
He was reading in bed when he heard the sound of his window opening again. Zayn got a sudden flashback, a sort of déjà vu, and his heartbeat picked up. This particular brand of fear felt familiar. Surely this hadn’t happened before?
With the lamp on, he watched the boy climb into his room with a vague recognition. Curiosity soon won out over fear and suddenly Zayn remembered.
“L…Louis?” he rasped, putting his comic book down.
The boy silently closed the window behind him and turned around. “Hey, Zayn. You remember me.” he whispered.
Zayn had to pause, because right now he could actually see Louis’ face. He had impish features, a button nose, sharp cheekbones and a mischievous look in his eye.
Zayn simply nodded. “You can fly right?”
Louis flashed a bright grin and suddenly he was in the air, just like Zayn remembered, flying towards him and landing on his bed to sit on the edge next to him, looking pretty pleased with himself. “Among other things.”
Zayn, filing that thought away for later, couldn’t help from smiling. “I knew I didn’t dream that night!”
“You sure didn’t, mate. I’m as real as anything. So you didn’t tell anyone about me then?”
Zayn shook his head. “Do you need a place to sleep again? Are you in trouble?”
Louis smiled again and nodded. “If it’s not too much to ask. You were such a help last year. As for the ‘trouble’ - it should be scared of me,” he scoffed. His voice was as lovely as Zayn remembered, and he was mesmerised.
“Yeah, you can sleep here. Mum’s gone to bed already so she won’t find you.”
“Thanks, Zayn.”
Once again, Louis got under Zayn’s bed. They lay there in silence for a few minutes before Zayn plucked up the courage to clear his throat and ask “Louis, what are you hiding from?”
From below came his soft and raspy voice. “Hm, let’s just say that I did something bad to someone and because of that, full moons aren’t exactly the safest time for me to be outdoors.”
Zayn considered that for a minute. It was in fact a full moon tonight, as well as the previous time Louis had visited. He had so many more questions. “How come you can fly?”
It took a couple of seconds before Louis answered. “Maybe I’ll tell you some other time, Zayn. When you’re older.”
“Does that mean you’re gonna come back?”
No answer.
“Louis?”
He waited a few more seconds and then sighed, lay his head back into the pillow and eventually fell asleep once he got his mind to stop racing.
And so it went on every year, every full moon of October, Louis would climb into Zayn’s room and ask to sleep there. Zayn stopped questioning why he did it, and Louis still never told him how he could fly. But every year he would get a little bit more information, though nothing to make sense of.
At the age of 10, when Louis climbed in for the third time Zayn forwent feeling fear altogether, almost relieved that Louis returned.
“Why is the full moon dangerous for you?”
“My family and I like to go… dog hunting all around the country on full moons. Well they’re wolves, really but we call them dogs.” He grimaces, as if the mere thought of the animals filled him with hate. “When we’re here I tend to sit out of it. Best choice for everyone involved really.”
“Why do you hunt them?”
“Age old tradition. We’re pretty good at it, if I say so myself.”
He wouldn’t answer any more questions that year. It gave Zayn a little bit more to think about.
At age 11 Zayn asked what else Louis could do, recalling that he’d once mentioned something along those lines. At that Louis gave a wide and proud grin and proceeded to show the young boy how he could lift his desk, hide in the dark shadows of his room, run from one side of the room to the other so fast that Zayn actually missed it. Zayn watched in fascination, his attention on Louis truly captured.
When he was 12, Louis told him about all the different places in England he’s visited and the sights he’d seen. Zayn listened intently, unhappy to go to sleep, but Louis insisted. Throughout the year he would dream of Louis travelling and all the special things he could do. And his dreams and thoughts would manifest in his art. He drew sketches and did paintings of the older boy, lifting boulders at the Stonehenge, jumping off the Cliffs of Dover, attending parties in old castles.
At 13 he showed Louis all the art he made of him, kept in a scrapbook under his bed throughout the year. Louis just smiled fondly at Zayn, impressed with the boy’s talent and saying as much. The warmth Zayn felt at Louis’ approval was way better than anything he was used to feeling.
When Zayn was 14 he confessed to Louis what he’d only been thinking about before. “I think I like boys as well as girls.” Louis told him it was ok, that he didn’t have to tell anyone until he was ready. That he was brave. Zayn fell asleep less afraid than he had been before.
“How old are you, Louis?”
“Nineteen.”
“I’m fifteen now.”
“I know,” Louis smiled from below the bed.
“You seem a lot wiser than most nineteen year olds.”
Louis said nothing.
“I know you haven’t been aging. You’ve looked the same since I was eight. Care to explain yet?”
Louis laughed quietly. “Go to sleep, Zayn. You need energy to write your exam tomorrow.”
“You have to tell me at some point.”
“Maybe when you’re eighteen.”
“I’ll remember you said that.”
Zayn’s 16th year was filled with anticipation to see Louis. Now that he was old enough he was more aware of how attractive Louis was. He was achingly beautiful. His skin was flawless and smooth, his jawline sharp, cheekbones cut, biceps defined. Zayn wanted to kiss him, for him to be his first boy. But when the night finally arrived and he asked Louis to kiss him, Louis shook his head.
“I can’t Zayn. You’re still young… and I just can’t.”
“This isn’t really about my age is it?” Zayn questioned, ego deflated. “And you’re not gonna tell me are you?”
Louis simply shakes his head again. “When you’re older. There are loads of boys to kiss, Zayn. You’ll have no problem finding one. Trust me,” he smiled.
Zayn fell asleep a lot less happy than usual when Louis was there.
The next year Zayn didn’t try anything with Louis. He was still insecure about it from before. (He had by now had his fair share of kisses and didn’t feel like getting rejected again.) So they just had a quiet night. Zayn asked Louis about his family and Louis told him about his three brothers and their father, describing a few exciting hunting endeavours they’d been on, their near-death brushes with the dogs. Zayn told Louis that he was now in his final year of school, that he was looking at art schools and various unis to apply to, about how his future was so unsure and daunting to him, that hopefully next year would be his last one living with his parents. Zayn felt better to be on normal terms with Louis again. Besides, he knew that next year he would finally find out for sure what Louis’ deal was, why he was clearly not an average human being, how he could do what he did.
Zayn stood at his open window in just his trackie pants, smoking a cigarette, waiting and watching dark clouds creep across the rising full moon every now and then.
This was finally the year. Zayn was 18 now. Louis would tell him the truth. Maybe he would also realise that Zayn was old enough for other things…
He waited and waited and waited.
After 4 hours and 2 packs of smokes with no sign of Louis, Zayn shut the window, confused and slightly worried. He lay down on his bed, trying to think of what could be keeping the older boy. Is it possible his family didn’t travel to Bradford this year? Did a dog finally manage to get him in the past year? Zayn quickly steered away from those kind of thoughts.
Louis would come. He always did. He fell asleep, thinking of all the previous visits, thinking of Louis.
Zayn awoke to movement on his bed. A quick glance to the clock on his nightstand told him it was 4.31am. He rubbed his eyes and sat up to find a figure sitting at the end of his bed.
“Louis?” he whispered, switching on his bedside lamp.
The room flooded in light and there he was, dressed in jeans and nothing else. His chest had dirt marks and his hair looked a little ruffled, but other than that, Louis looked like he always did. He was still the most beautiful thing Zayn had ever seen.
He smiled and moved forward sitting on the edge of the bed next to Zayn. He had a wild, almost animalistic look about him. Zayn was overcome with the smell of plants, earth, the forest? “Sorry I’m late. Ran into… an old friend. Had some business to take care of.”
“What kind of business? Did you get hurt?”
“Like, his attempt to get revenge after ten years and failing miserably, kind of business. And I’m not hurt, don’t worry.” He grinned darkly and coldly. “On the bright side, I won’t be needing a hiding place here anymore.”
Zayn paused to take this news in, feeling the disappointment settle. He could ask Louis if he’d visit him again, but he was too afraid to find out the answer. If this was the last time he’d see Louis (especially since he’d be living somewhere else next year) he had to find out the truth. He let a few more moments of silence pass, then took a deep breath.
“I’m eighteen now, Louis. Are you finally going to tell me what you are?” Zayn whispered.
Louis had a dangerous glint in his eye, searching Zayn’s face. He was really close, possibly the closest he’s ever been. “What do you think I am, Zayn?”
Zayn swallowed thickly, fear settling in his gut, sensing the volatility of the other boy. He’d never felt this unsettled around him before. “I honestly still don’t know.”
“Come on,” Louis grinned. “I only come out at night,” He reach out a hand traced a sharp fingernail down the side of Zayn’s face. He immediately froze up with the contact. “I can fly, I have inhuman speed and strength.” He dragged it lower down to Zayn’s throat and leaned in, inhaling deeply before whispering almost silently into his ear. “I hunt wolves every full moon.” His teeth grazed the shell of Zayn’s ear and his breath hitched. “I don’t eat what you eat.”
“Wh-what do you eat?” Zayn whispered back, almost breathless.
Louis leaned back to look at him, flashing his teeth in another sinister grin. He ran his tongue along his upper row of teeth, stopping on one of his canines and raising his eyebrow expectantly. Zayn focused on it and realised that his two canines had just grown three times their size and extremely sharp in under a second. Louis had fangs.
Zayn instinctively lowered his gaze to his own wrist, thinking about the blood pulsing through it. His mind scanned through every pop culture rendition of it, all the movies made, the books written, the historical myths and legends, Danny’s old stories. Everything. He tried to regulate his breathing, but Louis’ presence was so overwhelming and intimidating. He was determined to be brave though. He dragged his gaze up from his wrist back to Louis’ eyes, which seemed to glow in the darkness.
Louis must have understood this as Zayn’s answer because he nodded slowly. “There you go.” He took Zayn’s wrist with his own cold, delicate hands. He turned it over and placed a light kiss to his pulse point.
Zayn’s eyes fluttered closed, and he began to feel a warm desire take over him. He automatically scooted closer to Louis, who was eyeing him curiously. He took Zayn’s other wrist and did the same, pressing a kiss to the thin skin. It felt extremely intimate. Suddenly all his fear dissipated and he felt intoxicated by the boy in front of him. This was still the boy he’d known for ten years. They knew each other. Zayn felt the sudden need to give to Louis. He didn’t understand it but it was an overwhelming urge that engulfed him completely.
“And… when last did you eat?” he asked hesitantly.
Louis met his eyes in a steady gaze. “It’s been a long time.” He released Zayn’s wrist, and it fell limply onto his lap, practically boneless. “Why do you ask, Zayn?” he smiled knowingly.
“Um,” Zayn licked his lips. “Well, if… if you wanted. I could,” he paused. “Help?” He couldn’t stop staring at Louis’ mouth.
Louis furrowed his brows for a second, as if he was contemplating the idea. He leaned forward, pushing Zayn back so that he was lying back against his headboard. He ran a hand up the column of Zayn’s throat lightly, watching his skin flush in fascination. “Are you sure you’d want to do that?”
Zayn nodded.
“You know, you’re not a kid anymore. You shouldn’t be so trusting in strangers who just climb into your bedroom,” he smirked. His breath was cool against Zayn’s neck, making him shiver.
Zayn cleared his throat, trying not to let Louis’ electric proximity distract him. “If you were going to hurt me you would have done it years ago.”
Louis hummed. “Still, you should know better than to trust a vampire.”
Zayn’s breath hitched at the confirmation of his suspicions, but he focused on replying as stably as possible. “I trust you anyway.”
Suddenly Louis was right on top of him, straddling him. He leaned in to Zayn’s neck and breathed deep, inhaling his scent and pressing an open mouthed kiss to it, running his tongue along the hot skin. “Do you have any idea how good you smell? How good I’ve always imagined you’d taste?”
The younger boy sighed, because yes, this felt so good. He wanted Louis. So badly. His body was thirsting for it. This final contact felt unbelievable, but he needed more. He could already feel his arousal beginning and apparently Louis could too, because he paused to look down at Zayn’s crotch with a smirk. He ground down his hips a little, causing Zayn to moan “Louis.”
Louis surged forward to attach their lips, their mouths moving together with so much hunger Zayn could hardly take it. Heat gathered at the back of his neck, making his hairs stand on end. He needed more. He wanted to give Louis everything. He could hardly breathe.
Louis’s tongue traced his bottom lip before he slipped it into Zayn’s mouth, licking into it and taking taking taking. Zayn sucked on his tongue, eliciting a moan from the beautiful boy. He ran one hand through Louis’ soft hair, the other held the back of his neck, stroking the cold skin there. There was such a strange contrast between the temperature of Louis’ body and the heat being generated where their mouths collided over and over again. It was giving Zayn a strange kind of pleasure he had never experienced before.
He broke off for a second to catch his breath and latched his lips on to Louis’ jaw instead, sucking and licking and nipping. “Bite me, Louis,” he whispered.
Louis visibly shivered above him and pulled back to look him in the eyes searchingly. Not finding any reluctance there, he said “There’ll be pain.”
“I realise that,” Zayn chuckled, thrusting his hips upward, making Louis’ eyes roll in pleasure. “Come on.”
“Fuck,” Louis said. He hesitated a few seconds, keeping Zayn in suspense and unsure of whether to breathe or not. Then he leaned his head in one more time, gently pressing his lips to Zayn’s jugular. Zayn kept dead still, trying to prepare himself for the impending pain.
“I’ve waited years for this, for you,” Louis whispered, his two sharp fangs grazing his skin.
Then the next second Zayn felt two piercing stings in that same spot below Louis’ lips, shutting his eyes so tight he could see red. Immediately after the pain came a slow hum of pleasure, drowning out any and all feelings of unpleasantness. His body began to feel liquid, like he was in a state of flux, and the pleasure quickly spread all over, including finding its way down to his cock, growing half hard beneath Louis.
Louis sucked and licked at the punctures he made with his fangs and latched his mouth onto the two holes. He drank Zayn’s blood slowly but with enthusiasm and vigour, as if he’d never drank anything like it before. With every draw of blood Zayn could feel the essence of himself flow into Louis, vein to mouth, almost like an out-of-body experience. He could practically feel Louis grow stronger and healthier. He felt bonded to him, like a part of Zayn was becoming a part of Louis, helping make him whole.
The sensation of Louis at his neck and the light-headedness from loss of blood was driving Zayn crazy with lust. He needed to be touched, he needed to come. He ground up against him for friction. “Louis,” he moaned “I-“
Louis, without even pausing from drinking seemed to understand. Keeping his mouth at Zayn’s neck, he reached for Zayn’s pants and pulled them down, taking Zayn’s cock into his hand. And it was sweet relief.
Louis began to pump him slowly, but building up speed, giving Zayn the sensation he so greatly needed. He swiped over the head to gather the pre-come on his fingers to lubricate the movement. Louis could really multitask, as he was still drinking, taking small sips from Zayn’s neck and keeping a steady hand on his cock.
Zayn could do nothing but try to breathe and take it all in, leaning his head back and panting. He was feeling so much all at once. Now Louis was easing up on the sucking and small glimpses of pain were coming back, but Zayn couldn’t focus on it because Louis was doing wonders with his hand. He bucked his hips up to fuck into Louis’ fist. He could smell blood and lust and just Louis everywhere.
Finally Louis stopped feeding, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He took his other hand off of Zayn for a second and pricked his fingertip on one of his fangs, causing a drop of blood to appear. He wiped his blood into the wounds on Zayn’s neck, making sure to get both punctures. Soon the pain began to subside and the skin slowly but surely repaired itself, leaving nothing but two barely visible bite marks. Louis kissed Zayn’s neck once more, whispering a “thank you” and then brought their mouths together for a messy kiss. Zayn could taste the metallic, bloody tinge to Louis’ mouth. It was surreal, tasting his own blood but somehow incredibly arousing at the same time. Louis sucked Zayn’s bottom lip into his mouth, tugging gently and making him moan.
He placed one final kiss to Zayn’s mouth and then made his way further down the bed, looking at Zayn with hooded eyes, filled with nothing but pure desire. It went straight to his cock, which Zayn had lost awareness of until now. Louis didn’t hesitate any longer and ducked his head, taking Zayn into his mouth and blowing him fervently. He bobbed his head up and down, taking him as far back as he could and used his hand to grip at the base where he couldn’t reach.
He dragged his tongue along and up the underside of his cock and came to a stop at the head to swirl his tongue around it. He sucked it into his mouth and lightly grazed his teeth along the circumference, causing Zayn to twist forward in a surprising amount of pleasure. He was so close.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed.
Louis looked up at him with a smug glint in his eye and proceeded to take him all the way down slowly, slowly until Zayn hit the back of his throat. He let out a small hum and that was it.
Zayn tugged on Louis’ hair. “Louis, I’m –“
Then he was coming, harder than he ever had before. Zayn wasn’t very experienced but he did know that he’d just had an abnormally good orgasm.
Louis swallowed around him and proceeded to lick his cock clean and pulling his pants up for him as Zayn collapsed backwards again, trying to even out his breathing.
Zayn could barely believe what had just happened to him. He'd finally gotten to kiss Louis, to do more than he'd ever hoped for. And that wasn't even half as crazy as what Louis actually was. He had no idea what this meant for them, but he couldn't focus on that because he realised that he still wanted to pleasure Louis.
Once he caught his breath back he sat up again, fully prepared to get Louis off, only to see the boy on the other side of the room, smiling at him from the window sill.
“You’re leaving?” Zayn frowned, confused, disappointed.
“’m afraid so. Gotta meet my brothers in Cheshire before dawn,” he smiled regretfully.
“But, don’t you want me to…?“
“You can return the favour next year,” the vampire said with a wink. “Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”
Then, with little effort and without a sound, Louis leapt out of the window and into the night.