Rating: PG-13

Westbrook sat at the base of the windmill waiting on Wilbur, his lover of the past four years. If only he and Wilbur could stroll the streets together, what a dream that was. “Wes.” Wilbur’s soothing voice tickled his senses. That intimate nickname sent a shiver down his spine despite the warm weather. He glanced to the side to find Wilbur cresting the hill to have a seat next to him. Wilbur’s familiar warmth made him sigh. “I have missed you like the flower misses the butterfly.” He leaned in and Westbrook felt a gentle kiss to his neck.

“You speak such sweet things.” Westbrook said and turned, seeking those lips. Wilbur kissed him and Westbrook’s toes curled. “Even after four years you do wicked things to me.”

A grin made Wilbur seem devilish. “Shall we pray for four more?”

Westbrook stifled a chuckle and leaned into Wilbur’s body to rest his head in the crook of Wilbur’s shoulder. “Only four?” He asked against heated skin and placed a kiss.

Wilbur shivered. “Yes, four. Then four more and so on until one can no longer count the stars in the sky.”

“An impossible task.” Westbrook licked Wilbur’s neck tasting the salt from his sweat.

“It would take an eternity.” Wilbur said.

He hummed. “An eternity with you. If only such a dream were possible.”

Wilbur pulled away to look Westbrook in the eye. His expression turned pensive. “If eternity were possible you would stay with me?”

Westbrook let out a small sigh and a slight smile tugged the corners of his mouth. He moved a lock of hair behind Wilbur’s ear. “An eternity would not quench my thirst for you.”

Something changed in Wilbur’s gaze. “Even if I were a monster?”

He frowned. “You are no monster, my love.”

“Oh,” Wilbur leaned forward, pointed fangs Westbrook never saw before pressed against his lower lip, “but I am a monster, Wes, a monster of the wickedest caliber.” His eyes gleamed ever so slightly with a red tinge. A low, barely herd rumble vibrated deep within his chest.

Westbrook reached for Wilbur’s face. His finger tips grazed Wilbur’s lip to feel the hard, smooth surface of his fangs. His gaze settled there as if welded. “Do you wish to frighten me?”

“Do I?” There was a harsh, acidic edge to his voice as if he expected Westbrook to confirm something horrible he already knew.

Westbrook didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned in and took Wilbur’s mouth in a kiss. Sharp pain sliced his lip but Westbrook didn’t care. “You are no monster to me.” Something wet, blood he assumed, trickled down his chin. Wilbur’s gaze affixed to his bleeding lip. “You will be with me? Like me?”

“For you I will be the devil himself. Aw!” Pain sliced down his neck as Wilbur’s fangs sank into his neck. Wilbur’s crushing force threatened to snap his neck.

Wilbur withdrew and Westbrook slumped against him. Searing cold agony spread from that spot to seep into every crevice of his body. “It’ll be over soon.” Wilbur promised before he sank into the dark depths of hell.