Ciboria Bay was humid at night, and that was when the vampires came out. Damon hoped, in his t-shirt and jeans, that he looked presentable enough for Bruce.
He rang the doorbell next to the speaker under the name of B. Lazarus. It was the only one with a B as the first name.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” said Damon. “You don’t know me, but I’m a friend of Teddy’s.”
“Come on up, second floor,” and he heard the lock buzz open. Damon went inside, up the stairs to the second floor. A man stood in the doorway of an apartment. He was bald, wore sunglasses, had only a t-shirt and jeans also. He wore work boots, stained with fresh-caked mud. “Any friend of Teddy’s is welcome here. How is he?”
Damon followed the man into the spacious apartment. “He’s been grounded.”
“Grounded? Why?” The man shut the door. He didn’t lock it, Damon noticed.
Don’t accuse him of bing a vampire, Teddy told him before he left, so he said, “Mike’s jealous.”
“Jealous. I’m not surprised.” Bruce headed into the kitchen. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure, what do you have?”
“Bottled water, some beer.”
“I’ll take a beer.”
Bruce grinned. He must know I’m underage, thought Damon, as Bruce pulled out a bottle of some microbrew he’d never heard of and popped the top off with his thumb. “Here you go.”
Damon sauntered up to the counter and took a swig of the beer. He barely kept himself from coughing. This was strong.
“What’s your name? How do you know Teddy?”
“Damon. Darkestar is my code name. Teddy’s my teammate.” He sipped gingerly this time, and it wasn’t so bad.
“Uh huh. So Mike’s jealous of my relationship with Teddy?”
“He assumes you slept with Teddy, I bet.”
“I did.”
Damon sipped again. He could tell the man was bigger than Mike, and, if he was proportionate, would definitely have a bigger one than Mike, too. Damon shifted uncomfortably, thinking about what might be under those clothes.
“The man hasn’t changed. You’d think, after going through what he went through, that he would let other people live their lives the way they want to, instead of trying to control them.” He went to the fridge, and got his own beer. “So what kind of powers do you have?”
“I manipulate shadows.” Damon extended his hand, and a lance of shadow came out of his palm like a whip, and encircled the beer Bruce held. It twisted up Bruce’s arm, tucking into the sleeve of his t-shirt.
“What–” The tendril naked down into his shirt, down to his chest. Damon could feel the hard muscle, the taut skin. Bruce was looking at his chest as the shadow twisted and flowed beneath it.
Damon said, “You like that?”
“Feels like silk,” he said.
“Do you want it rougher?” he changed the consistency to fine sandpaper. He let it flow over the man’s nipple.
bruce gasped. “Do you do this to Teddy?”
“I have,” he said. Damon shifted again.
Bruce pulled off his shirt. Tendrils flowed from his shoulders down his chest, cupping his pecs and twisting around the nipples. “Let’s you and I get more comfortable.”
Damon, shaking with anticipation, set down his beer.
