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"You're doing that on purpose," Jonny hisses under his breath as the cameraman sets up again. "It's a simple line."
Marton smiles, cocks his head in that I'm not innocent but I can fake it way. "Is it?"
"Yes." Jonny spits out the word with absolutely no humility. "You like the scene too much, talk of control and containment."
"Two concepts you're rather unfamiliar with, Jonny."
"Yeah, so?" Jonny gives Marton a challenging look. "S'not like you're helping there. All you do is fuck me."
"What would you have me do instead?" Marton steps Jonny back against the set's wall, his gestures making it look like they're perhaps rehearsing. "Tie you up and beat you till you capitulate?"
"That'd work for me." Jonny still has the challenging look, but it's less than convincing when Marton's looming over him. "The being tied up. Think it'd control me?"
"I think it would force you to control yourself." Marton answers Jonny's look with one of his own, this one with centuries of practice behind it. "At the very least, it would keep you from forcing your foot into your mouth."
"Ever think I don't want to be controlled?" Jonny's still in his Oren voice, his own accent lost somewhere. "I like what I am, what we are."
Marton puts his hand on Jonny's shoulder. It looks like he's just getting into role, but he's actually holding Jonny in place. "I don't really care. You're spiralling into destruction," he sneers as he adds, "little brother."
Jonny cocks his head, looks down and back up, all perfectly normal in role. "I'm hungry, Marton," he whispers. "All the time. It claws at me. Even now."
Marton nods. "I know. And what do you plan on doing about that, boy?"
It's Oren's voice answering, paraphrasing his own lines. "Contain and control, uncle."
"I'm sure you are." Marton fists his fingers in the fabric of Jonny's costume, almost ripping it. "But I don't see you doing that. I don't see you doing anything."
That's too much, crossing some invisible line Jonny didn't know existed until that moment. He reaches up between them, pushes his palms against Marton's chest to separate them. "Let me go, Marton," he says, dropping out of character and back into himself.
"Fine." Marton releases him easily, then grabs Jonny's wrists, holding both of them in his hand, then he drops them. "But I will not be disobeyed. Is that understood?"
"Yes," Jonny mutters. "Understood." He takes a step back. "Please, can we nail the scene? I'll be good the rest of the day."
The boy actually sounds sincere. Marton nods. "As long as you're good." He turns to the director and nods. They're ready to try the shot again.
The shot goes much easier, finished in one more take, and Jonny finds himself breathing easier when it's over. It's awkward when film comes so close to real life and the line blurs between Jonny and Oren a lot these days, the character's relationship with his brother mimicking what he and Marton are going through. He doesn't waste any time getting to wardrobe, out of the heavy coat and starting to strip the rest of the costume. He wants to be himself again, wants to go out, wants to feed.
Marton has a quick chat with the director about where he thinks the character is going, and then heads back to change. The costume is nothing compared to some of the things he's worn, but it's still heavy and confining. He prefers to be in jeans these days.
Jonny's changed by the time Marton gets there, perched on a table, dressed in worn jeans that are too big, t-shirt he ripped off from Gerry's drawer and denim jacket, feet in black trainers loosely laced.
"I'm being good. Sitting here. Not biting anyone." He smiles, cocks his head. "Wanna go out?"
Marton licks his lips. Jonny's a vision like this. Marton could just shove him against the wall and drink. Not yet. He's still too impulsive. "Yes. Where do you want to go?"
"Goth club would be cool." Jonny bites his lip. He knows it's not Marton's favorite place, doubts he can swing it unless he's been very good. "Or the castle. That'd be nice." He likes it just as much. They're both places where he feels like he fits in.
The castle. That's a much better idea. Marton nods. "The castle, then." He's in the mood for some easy prey, and Jonny can learn how to control himself.
"Castle, then. Cool." Jonny pulls himself off the table. "I can feed there." He shoves his hands in his pockets. "It ever get better? The insatiable hunger?"
"You learn to ignore it, take the edge off where you can." Marton walks over to Jonny, then slides his fingers in his hair. "And you learn how to go longer without feeding."
Jonny leans into the touch. He loves it, the feel of fingers in his hair, the connection it makes. "Don't like ignoring it. Hurts too much."
Marton pulls Jonny in close, then kisses his forehead. Still such a baby. He needs to remember that. He can't expect Jonny to act even as mature as Colin. "I do. But you have to learn control."
"Gerry says you can teach me to be better." Jonny's wrapped his arms around Marton's waist, is holding tight, not that worried about anyone coming in on them or what they'll think. "Think that's why he won't come visit."
Gerry's giving them room, yes, but he's still calling Marton every couple of days, checking up. Jonny doesn't need to know about that, though. "I raised him," Marton says with a smile. "I can do the same to you."
"I like that." Jonny's getting antsy again, hunger welling inside him. "Can we go? Please? It's starting to hurt worse."
"All right." Marton wraps his arm around Jonny's waist and walks him out. "Your car or mine?"
"Yours. I hate driving." Jonny's shoved his free hand into his pocket. "Prefer my bike to a car any day, but they won't let me have it. Stupid insurance folks."
"Stupid people trying to keep you alive." Marton snorts. He leads Jonny over to his car and heads over to the driver's side. "Turn the radio to whatever station you like. It's on the news now."
"News isn't bad." Jonny doesn't want Marton to think he's a total heathen. He settles into the seat, leaning back. "Club'll have music."
"Pounding music, if you'll call it that." Marton flashes a smile at Jonny. "Whatever you want." He turns the car on.
Jonny reaches over and turns the radio off. "Silence isn't bad either," he says, "and what's wrong with pounding music? Gets into the blood."
"Gets into the blood, speeds it up." Marton licks his lips. "So you can taste the beat even days after, still on your tongue."
"Yeah. That's it, exactly. It's weird. Never listened to music like that before." Jonny tries to relax, ignore the growing hunger, concentrate on the silence. "Never thought about blood being so powerful. Not when I was human. It was just there."
"When it becomes something you need to survive, you tend to pay much more attention to it. Have you ever hyperventilated?" Marton never has, but he's seen the way humans are when they do. "Did you take your air as something that was just there during that?"
"Sure. I've done that. Got breathing too fast." Jonny thinks on the question, and it slowly dawns on him. Marton's a born vampire. "How's it different? Being born like this."
Marton shrugs. "I have no experience as a human to compare it to." He remembers being born, he remembers how utterly cold it was, but the next few years...after this long, so many unimportant details are lost. "I remember the first one I turned, how impatient I was until Sean told me to treat him like Patrick."
"Patrick?" Jonny's trying to recall who's who in his new family. "That's your brother. Right?"
"Gerry's brother. One younger." Marton smiles. "They can be hard to tell apart, but, I assure you, Colin was always a brat and always will be."
Jonny laughs. "I got that much, 'bout Colin." He's still not at all sure who belongs to whom, though. "Gerry's the oldest, then. And I'm the first he's ever turned?"
"First he's told me about." Marton looks over his shoulder and passes the car ahead of them. "He doesn't always tell Uncle Marton everything."
"I kinda assumed Uncle Marton knows everything, whether he's told or not." Jonny looks out the window, stares at the passing cars for a few minutes. "I'm not as bad as Colin. Not going to be, you know. Just have to get used to it."
"Uncle Marton knows a lot, not everything, but a lot. And he knows that you're already better than Colin." Marton smiles. "No one's left you out to dry."
"Do you like hurting me?" Jonny asks after another minute. "We joke about the North Tower. Gerry does, too, but you guys seem to get off on pain."
Marton shrugs. "Who doesn't? Pain's pain. It's the same as pleasure. Survival mechanism, Peter thinks."
"Peter's smart. Pain and pleasure get messed up in my head, can't tell where one stops and the other starts when I'm feeding."
"And the line will keep eroding. You'll have to say which one becomes which, but I assure you, you'll learn to love pain, if you haven't already."
"Already love it. More than I should, maybe." Jonny nods out the window. "Don't miss the turn."
"I won't." Marton's had his eye on it for a few minutes now. "And we can teach you to love it much more than you already do."
"Pretty please." Jonny's smirking, giving Marton his best feigned innocence grin. "Tonight. After you feed me."
"I will. Promise." Marton makes the turn. "Now, how are you going to behave once we're inside?"
Jonny straightens up, pushing back in the seat. "Like a good boy, sir," he murmurs. "Perfectly obedient brother."
"Good boy." Marton pulls up to the parking lot a few blocks away from the club. "Do what I say, but don't be scared to keep your fangs out. No one here will care."
"Yes, sir." Jonny likes that idea even more, not having to worry about who knows what he really is. He's out of the car and stretching, letting his fangs drop and rubbing his tongue over the sharp tips. "Gonna be a good night, I think."
"Yes, it will." Marton whimpers as his fangs come down, then passes his tongue over them. "Come on, lad. Let's get someone to eat."
The club's in an old castle, stone walls blocking most of the noise from the street, distance from inhabited areas taking care of the rest. Jonny's standing at the top of the stairs that lead down into the main floor. Humans and vampires are mingling, dancing, feeding. His attention's focused on the guy in grey jacket and black scarf tied loosely around his neck, brown hair cut short and definitely not combed. They're watching each other, it seems, the human moving in and out of the crowd, glancing up at Jonny.
"I want that one," Jonny says, smiling and pointing him out to Marton. "Do you want to share?"
Marton looks over the human. He's certainly handsome, and Marton likes the look of his cheekbones. They remind him of Peter's. "I'd love to."
Jonny's down the stairs in a flash, standing at the human's side, leaning in. "Hello. Do you taste as good as you look?"
The human's startled, obviously, and he stiffens. "I think so." He's aroused, too, the scent pouring off him. "Do I look that good?"
Marton's next to Jonny in a heartbeat. "Yes, you do." He smiles charmingly at the human. "Do you have a name?"
"Erik."
Jonny moves a step closer, pressing against the human. "Hmm, bit of an accent. Must be local." He tilts his head, licks Erik's throat. "Sweaty. He's nervous."
Marton chuckles. "Wouldn't you be?" He wraps his arms around the human and gently bites the curve of his ear.
Erik jumps at Marton's bite. "Uh, yessir. Excited."
"I think I said the same thing first time Gerry had me." Jonny lets his fang rake over the skin, prick lightly and draw a bead of blood. He licks it, and Erik's shivering.
"That wouldn't surprise me." Marton keeps on Erik's ear, then slowly moves down to the back of his neck.
"You want more, that's okay," Erik says.
"How nice of you to offer." Jonny sucks over the tiny wound, digging at it and making it bigger.
"Because we're going to take it." Marton's played this game before. Jonny feeds first, and second. Marton gets after that, with a few sips from the baby. He doesn't mind. It's a lot of fun.
Sliding his hand around Erik's back, Jonny holds him tight as he bites properly, opening the vein enough to get a quick flood into his mouth. Rich, sweet, almost too sweet. So damned good. Fuck, he wants more. Much, much more.
Marton can smell the exact moment Erik starts to bleed. Jonny looks like he just had an orgasm. The simple pleasures of youth. Marton slides his hands into Erik's pants, slowly jerking his cock.
Erik moans, starts mumbling curses in German. He's caught between Marton's hand and Jonny's mouth and he's being drained quickly.
Jonny pulls off, blood coating his tongue and dripping out of the corner of his lips. He smiles at Marton. "Wanna kiss?"
"Love one." Marton pulls Jonny in for a bruising kiss.
Jonny presses into the kiss, smearing Marton's mouth with the blood. The bruises Marton's giving him taste almost better than the human's blood.
The human's blood tastes good, as good as Erik smells. Marton's hand speeds up on his cock. "Bite him," he orders Jonny in a harsh whisper, "when he comes."
"Yessir," Jonny mutters. He moves his mouth back to Erik's throat. Orgasm won't be long. The human's close, barely holding himself back, from what Jonny can sense. "C'mon," he whispers into Erik's ear. "Let go. It'll be good."
Erik moans, whimpers. "Please." A dozen syllables all choked in his throat as he comes in Marton's hand.
Jonny's fangs are slicing through Erik's skin that precise second. He bites deep, sucks hard, rich sweet blood flooding his throat.
Marton waits only a heartbeat and then his fangs are sliding into the human's shoulder. Fuck waiting; this boy's too good.
Jonny's control sucks, almost as well as he does, and he runs the risk of draining the human right where they stand. It's only in the last second, when he tastes blood not quite as sweet, that he draws his fangs out. Blood dripping from his lips, he smiles at Marton. "See, I can be a good boy. I stopped."
"Yes, you did." Another half a second and Marton would have yanked Jonny back. It's good to know that Jonny can taste when it's about to go bad, but it would be better if he could do it within a better range. Still, this is good for the first try. "Good boy."
The praise is almost as good as Marton's kisses. "What do we do with him now?" Jonny licks over the wound, soaking up the rest of the blood.
Marton turns the human's head to him so he can see. "He's dazed. We'll get him lying down. There are people here who can do the rest."
Erik''s dazed, muttering incoherently in German as the vampires talk about him.
"Yes, sir. Lying down." Jonny wraps his arm around Erik's waist, holds him till they can move across the floor to a clear spot on the divan. He guides the human down, stretching him out. "You do taste as good as you look. Maybe I'll see you again."
"Yes. Please."
Marton brushes his fingers over Erik's forehead. "Go to sleep," he murmurs. "We'll be seeing you again."
Erik rolls his head to the side, slowly closes his eyes.
"Why can't I do that?" Jonny glances at Erik, then Marton. "Have to be older?"
"Strength of personality." Marton smiles at Jonny. "You were very good tonight, boy. You're definitely getting better."
Jonny moves closer to Marton, slides his hand over his uncle's thigh. "Teach me more. I like your lessons."
Marton covers Jonny's hand with his own. "Let's get me something to snack on and then go home. I want to fuck you through the bed."
"Mmm, I like those lessons best." Jonny nudges a step closer, leaning his head on Marton's shoulder, the height difference just perfect. "What you having? Blond or redhead?"
Marton surveys the crowd, then grins slowly. "Blonde. It's a nice selection tonight."
"Yeah. Nice selection." The human's blood is rushing through Jonny's body, teasing his brain, intoxicating as thoroughly as straight vodka. "I can stay here while you feed. Won't get in trouble."
"I'll trust you won't." He leaves Jonny where he is, then makes his way through the crowds. He finds the perfect blonde, tall, muscular, like he's fresh from boot camp. Marton pulls him to the side.
Jonny watches, tracking Marton's every movement, how his hand touches the blonde's shoulder as he pulls him aside and then the subtle dip of Marton's head as the human nods agreement to the inevitable.His stomach tightens, his cock twitching at the scene being played out before him, Marton taking the human's blood so casually.
The human's blood is hot in Marton's mouth and he swallows once, twice. The human is making little noises of encouragement, but Marton pulls back after five. It's only a snack.
There's lust and longing in Jonny's eyes, for both human and vampire. He misses, in those rare moments, being taken like that, knowing if the vampire drinks too long, too much, it'll kill him. He sighs, rolls his neck. The same's true for a vampire. He could be drained if one of his elders took too much. His cock's hard, too, has been for what seems like hours, filming over and over the control scene, trying to be good. But he's being patient, albeit fidgety.
Marton pulls the human into a long kiss, loving the way the human clings to him. He breaks the kiss and looks over the crowd. Jonny's right where he should be, so Marton lets the human go and heads back to his nephew.
"That was beautiful," Jonny says, stepping forward into Marton's path. He's shuffling from foot to foot, but not saying a word about how much he wants -- needs -- Marton's touches, kisses. "We go now?"
"Yes." Marton wraps his arms around Jonny and pulls him close. "We go now."
*~*~*~*~*~
The ride home isn't totally aggravating. Marton's not teasing Jonny too much. The minute the car's parked, though, Jonny's throwing the door open and climbing out, heading for the door with keys in hand. Eager doesn't begin to describe his mood, key in lock now and turning the knob.
Marton follows Jonny into the house, then slams the door behind them, shoving Jonny up against it. "You want it," he growls. "Tell me how much you need my teeth in your throat right now."
"Teeth in throat," Jonny hisses. "Cock in arse. Please, Marton, need it, want it." His hands are all over Marton, tugging at his shirt.
"Fucking need it, I know you do." Marton claws at Jonny, then nudges his head back and bites.
"Ohfuckgod, yes, please please please." Jonny's clutching at Marton's shirt, ripping into the fabric, holding on. "Need. Take it all."
Marton spins Jonny around, slamming him against the wall before he bites hard, swallowing as Jonny's blood rushes into his mouth. Marton rips Jonny's pants away, then shoves in, fucking him as hard has he can without letting go of Jonny's neck.
That's what Jonny's been waiting for. He screams from the pain, his body tightening around Marton's cock as the blood's pulled from his veins. Intense doesn't begin to describe it. Jonny's not even sure there's a word in his vocabulary for what he feels when Marton possesses him like this.
Marton doesn't have words for it either, but he doesn't care. He knows exactly what this is doing to Jonny, what it's doing to him, and he fucks Jonny as hard as he can, as hard as they can both take it.
The screams are louder by the minute, until they're filling the room, drowning Jonny in the noise until it echoes through his body. His cock is rubbing against the wall, flesh abraded by plaster, and he's hard and aching.
"More. Marton. Please."
He's pushing Jonny. Marton can feel it as far down as his toes, but he knows Jonny can take it. Jonny's a good boy now. Marton swallows, then gives Jonny a series of bites across the back of his shoulders.
Jonny's floating by the time Marton stops biting his shoulders, his blood dripping onto the wall, trickling down to splatter his cock. He can take it, everything Marton wants to give, even if it means passing out.
"Marton," he hisses, voice slurred and drifting. "Barely here."
"I know," Marton murmurs. He licks over the wounds, then gives Jonny a quick bite on the back of his neck. He thrusts one last time and comes.
No permission asked or given, but Jonny's coming as soon as Marton does, splattering the wall with drips and streaks. He isn't coherent enough to hold back, his blood loss too strong.
Marton groans as he pulls out. "Fuck, you're a good boy."
"Thanks," Jonny mutters, face pressed into the wall. "Good boy when it matters, I guess."
Marton laughs. "Yeah." He pats Jonny on the shoulder. "When it matters."