Blood of the City Page 2

  “Baby?”

  “Isn’t that a pet name people use?” Mack asked.

  “Well, yes, but why use it on me?”

  Mack shrugged. “I’m just trying to fit in.”

  “Why? You’re so strange. It doesn’t matter that you speak funny and use odd words. Just tell people you’re from the country—or England or something. People’ll ignore it then.”

  Mack stared at Jason. “It’s not that. I just wanna blend in. I wanna be normal. I don’t want people to think I speak funny. I don’t want you to think that.”

  “You’re a hundred-year-old gay vampire who can change into any animal you want. How normal do you think you can get?”

  “People don’t ask you where you’re from all the time,” said Mack.

  Jason got up and embraced him from behind as Mack pulled on his jeans. “I’ve been in it for a lot longer. I learned to hide my Italian accent and picked up new words and changing meanings and all that stuff. It’s hard and takes a long time.” He pushed Mack’s jeans down and fondled his bulge instead.

  Mack let him do it for a bit, but his cock remained flaccid in Jason’s deft fingers. He pulled away in discomfort then dragged his jeans over his legs instead.

  “What’s wrong?” Jason asked.

  “Nothing. I’m just not in the mood.”

  “Okay…”

  Mack kissed him. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just tired. I’m gonna go check a few things before the shift starts. Zoran left a mess behind when he died. I guess we’re lucky he left it all to you, but the headaches this work brings with it? Gimme a horse and cattle any day.”

  Jason laughed.

  “What now?”

  “A horse and cattle? You’re adorable.” Jason kissed Mack again then hugged him. “I’ll be up at Fuel later, with Greg.”

  “You know, this is exactly what I was talking about. How you make fun of the things I say and do. Maybe if you helped me more, I wouldn’t be so weird.”

  “Whoa, relax, Mack. Seriously, you got up on the wrong side of bed tonight.”

  Mack tried to shake off the mood. “Yeah, sorry. You said you’ll be up with Greg later?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Might see you there then.”

  “What do you mean might? Do you have plans or something?”

  Mack shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure, but if not, I’ll see you soon.” He buttoned up a black dress shirt over his chest and kissed Jason one more time. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” said Jason. And before he knew it, he was alone in the hotel room, bloodied glasses by the bed and the smell of his boyfriend lingering in the air.

  He went over their conversation in his mind, doubts and suspicions seeding at every recounting. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jason sighed again and stared at the blank wall ahead.

  Mack held it together in the elevator. He betrayed none of his inner conflict as he passed through the lobby, with its quiet grace. Doormen bade him farewell, and he gave a nod of recognition and thanks for their work before making it outside to the bustling streets of Kings Cross. Neon was starting to replace daylight and taxis were bumper to bumper on the road. Strippers and bouncers made their way to work, their days just beginning, creatures of the night just like Mack and Jason.

  It didn’t take long to get through the main strip of the notorious neighborhood, and he found himself in a semblance of suburbia again. Terraced houses lined the streets, in varying states of repair. The odd backpackers and a motel or two, for the more discreet visitor to the Cross, advertised their hourly rates on chipboard signs on the street. Mack gave them a glance, but he was aiming for a particular place at the end of the street.

  The hand-painted sign out the front named it Mangrove Backpacker’s, although no mangroves could be seen anywhere but in the crude depictions on the sign.

  Mack made a beeline for Mangrove Backpacker’s, pulled open the gate then strode inside. He walked up creaking stairs, past a communal shower and bathroom and a couple of locked doors. Mack stopped and knocked on the door labeled ‘Twenty-Four’.

  Shuffling answered him and the door unlocked from the inside. It was pulled open and a gentleman holding an off-white sheet over his crotch stood, rubbing his eyes and yawning. The man had a chest resplendent with muscles, and it was covered in light-blond hair that trailed in golden paths below the sheet. Mack glimpsed the curve of his buttocks and his legs that were covered in thick fur.

  The man took in Mack’s pristine condition and gave a lopsided smile. “Evenin’, Mack.” He had a thick American accent.

  “Good evening, Sparky.” Mack waited. “May I come in?”

  Sparky stepped aside and held out a welcoming hand. “By all means.”

  The room was small and messy. Garish clothing hung over everything, including sparkling G-strings, bright red leather chaps, cowboy boots and a familiar tank top with ‘Sparky’ emblazoned on it.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Sparky adjusted his sheet and winked at Mack. “Do you mind if I put on some clothes?”

  Mack would’ve blushed if he could. Instead, he covered his eyes and nodded. Sparky dropped his sheet with a soft swish of material on carpet. Mack heard him shuffle across the room then the sound of fabric against skin.

  “Okay, I’m decent now,” said Sparky.

  Mack looked at him, now clad in a tiny pair of blue shorts that barely touched the tops of his thighs and did nothing to hide the obscene bulge between Sparky’s legs. Sparky gestured then sat beside Mack on the bed. He put his hand on Mack’s thigh and kissed his cheek. “Didn’t think I’d see you until the show tonight. This is a nice surprise, but should I be worried?”

  “Worried about what?”

  “My job?”

  Mack laughed. “No, you’re an excellent dancer. The crowd loves you. Why would you think that?”

  Sparky shrugged. “The boss visiting you at home before a shift gets the paranoia going a bit. You know what I’m saying?”

  Mack laughed. “I’m not the boss,” he said.

  “Boss’s main squeeze then.”

  Mack’s brow furrowed with puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

  Sparky grinned. “Nothing.” He squeezed Mack’s thigh again and rubbed his palm up toward Mack’s crotch.

  Mack stared at Sparky’s hand in silence, but Sparky didn’t move it. In fact, he squeezed a little harder, pushed up a little farther. Mack’s bulge began to grow, filling out under his fly. His shaft became evident under the denim and his balls strained to be released, but he held back.

  Sparky kept rubbing, leaning closer to talk to Mack. “Did something happen?” he asked. “Wanna talk it out?” He removed his hand, got up then grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the dresser. He unscrewed the lid, had a grimacing swig then passed it to Mack, who did the same.

  Mack wiped his mouth, trying to conceal his excitement and keep his heart from beating again. He shifted in position.

  “You okay?” Sparky asked, staring at Mack’s crotch. “You wanna get more comfortable?”

  Mack squeezed his legs together but it only made his cock pop more. He blushed, his heart in full gallop again, then took another swig of whiskey. Sparky sat back down, his bare thigh against Mack’s jeans. The heat from his body was overwhelming.

  “It’s Jason,” blurted Mack.

  Sparky put down the bottle and placed his hand on the small of Mack’s back, rubbing in circles until his hand slipped under Mack’s shirt to contact his skin. His fingers slid under the waist of Mack’s jeans and massaged the top of his cheeks at the same time. Mack almost groaned with desire. “You two okay?” asked Sparky.

  “Yeah, we’re fine. It’s just… I mean, I want to fit in, and it’s difficult to do that. And sometimes the way he treats me makes me think I’ll never manage to do it.”

  Spa
rky was quizzical, but he didn’t stop rubbing. He moved closer so his breath was on Mack’s ear. “Fit in? In this town? Firstly, why would you want to? It’s full of drug dealers, criminals, gamblers… Bad people, man. I mean, our customers are so good in a way, but no one you want to emulate.” He moved his arm around Mack and squeezed his shoulder to bring him closer. “It’s good to be from the country. Makes you sweet.”

  Mack’s heart hammered with life and this time, he really did blush. He hesitated then put his hand on Sparky’s thigh. Sparky’s skin was hot to the touch and his hair was soft under Mack’s palm. “Thank you,” said Mack. It felt good to be accepted and desired, different though he was. Sparky really seemed to understand, maybe the only one who did.

  “It’s good not fitting in. I don’t, obviously, what with being from America, and it suits me just fine. People think I’m exotic. You just gotta play it up more, Mack, my man. As soon as people get to know you, they’ll love you too.”

  The words hung in the air.

  “I mean, as a friend.”

  Mack pulled away enough to look into Sparky’s eyes. “I knew what you meant.” He opened his mouth. Sparky’s whiskey-flavored breath wafted over Mack’s face before he leaned up and kissed Sparky, gently at first, but with increased passion until their tongues tangled.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” Sparky said, breath now hot, cheeks flushed and bulge straining against his shorts.

  Mack’s heart thumped with life as he nodded then pulled Sparky back on the bed. Sparky straddled Mack, unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off. Mack’s jeans soon followed and Sparky threw both to the floor. Sparky almost tore his own shorts off in excitement and his cock bounced out over Mack, who pulled his legs up to wrap around Sparky so their cocks slapped together. Mack’s chest slid against Sparky’s skin in a slick of sweat. His firm nipples were taut and sensitive against Sparky’s. He scattered kisses from Sparky’s collarbone up his neck and over his delicious, pulsing arteries. Mack ran his tongue over his rough stubble before finding solace in Sparky’s warm, wet mouth, and he lost himself in the kiss. Mack flipped them over then fumbled a hand around behind him, pawing for his lover’s cock and drawing it up to paint his own hole with pre-cum. He groaned, bit Sparky’s bottom lip and eased himself back onto the prize. Sweat dripped from both their bodies as he slid down the shaft. Mack gasped as Sparky’s tip prodded him deep within. His lover grabbed Mack’s ass cheeks—one in each hand—and started lifting him up and down on his cock. Before Mack’s eyes, the man gasped and flushed scarlet with desire, his eyes glazing and his pupils dilating in ecstasy.

  Mack’s heart flew and blood coursed through his veins in a way that it hadn’t for many years. He closed his eyes and felt his lover’s cock throb. He let go and allowed his own to start disgorging pre-cum until the sweet pheromones hit their noses, and they came in unison. Sparky gasped and gripped Mack’s body, causing pain with every spasm. Mack let out a couple of final breaths and his semen trickled down to puddle between them on the bed. Lost in the moment, Mack sank his teeth into his lover’s neck, feeling the skin strain and break, releasing even sweeter blood from the arteries to stream into Mack’s mouth.

  “Ow! Jesus!” Sparky pulled away, clutching at his bleeding neck as blood dribbled out between his fingers.

  Mack shuddered in joy as the blood made it through his system. He smeared the back of his hand over his mouth and looked at the red mark in shock.

  “Sorry.”

  “Jesus Christ, man! What the hell?”

  Mack’s heart quickened. “I’m so sorry. Here, let me see.” He held out his hand, but Sparky pulled away, looking at his red palm and clapping it back over the wound in fear. Mack fought the urge to launch himself at Sparky, tear his neck open and drink every last drop of his blood. It was his instinct—his way. It was what would have been natural for him. Instead, he furrowed his brow in concentration and grabbed a tissue from the nightstand, holding it out for Sparky to grab before he retreated from Mack’s presence.

  Mack looked around for something more substantial than a tissue to wipe himself off with. He was confronted with a floor littered with notes, mostly of the five-dollar variety. Among them were black leather work-boots, various plastic water pistols, holsters and aluminum star-shaped sheriff badges. The closest piece of clothing was Sparky’s star-spangled tank top. It wouldn’t have been Mack’s first choice, but he wasn’t feeling picky, so he scooped it up and started to wipe his semen-coated thighs.

  Sparky fumbled at the nightstand for a packet of cigarettes. He dragged one out and lit it, sending plumes of smoke into the room. He got up then went to sit by the window, cracking it open to blow smoke outside. The smell still drifted in and around everything, but it didn’t much bother Mack. His heart was slowing to a stop and with it would be his need to breathe the air or smell anything at all any longer.

  “I’m really sorry. I just got a bit overexcited,” Mack said, a shred of truth in his words. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? Please?”

  Sparky exhaled a white cloud of smoke that lingered around his face. “Don’t sweat it, man. I’m down for some S and M. Just warn me first next time, yeah?” Sparky grinned with blinding white teeth.

  Mack nodded. His heart had well and truly stopped again, so it was in silence that he turned to look at Sparky resting in the window. Neon lights from the Cross up the street flashed over the neighborhood, illuminating him in red, yellow then green. Sparky took another puff of his cigarette and stretched. His torso rippled with muscles and his balls shifted beneath his softening cock. He winked at Mack.

  “At any rate, I’ll keep your secret if you’ll keep ours.” He waggled his finger between the two of them. “Don’t want Jason to know about this.”

  “You read my mind.” Mack pulled on his jeans and adjusted his package. He located his shirt and dressed before going for the door.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Sparky flicked his cigarette out the window and it spun through the air to land on the road and smolder. “It’s seriously fine, Mack. I get it. You’ve got a lot going on.” Sparky took his hand from his neck. “I-I really liked this.” He embraced Mack and rubbed his hands on his back.

  Mack enjoyed the sensation of Sparky’s warm, sweaty chest against his, but he knew how close he had come to eating him. “I did too.” He moved to extricate himself from the embrace but Sparky held on to him a little longer.

  “I’m not an idiot, you know. This may just be a one-night stand to you—just a way to get back at Jason for not understanding you—but I’m hoping it can be more.”

  Mack would have blushed again. He was, for once, thankful that his heart had stopped beating.

  Sparky kept his gaze a moment longer before letting go and opening the door. “See you round, I guess.”

  Mack nodded and left. In the hall, he passed a couple of dilapidated doors, lit with green fluorescent light. They had rusted numbers counting down on them—twenty-three and twenty-two. Down the carpeted, creaking stairs and out the front door of the terrace-cum-boarding house and into the night, he vanished into the dark, determined to find something less obvious to feed upon.

  Chapter Two

  Fracture

  The nightclub buzzed around Jason and Greg. They were lost in a solid embrace on the dance floor as music and bodies thumped in rhythm. Jason was blond and thickset, his body bulging with lust. Greg was slim, with pale skin and red hair. His chest was covered in fine fur that trailed down his stomach and into his skinny, black jeans. Thick smoke drifted around their ankles before it fell off the edge of the roof to dissipate into the early-morning air, and lights played over their skin. Fuel had changed over the months from a lazy, desolate winter bar to a pumping summer club, and Jason was the main attraction. He ascended a podium and gripped both hands around the metal pole before he started gyrating against it. His miniature yellow shorts left little to the imaginat
ion and for those in the front row, they often gave a glance of the thick cock beneath the thin fabric. His chest was bare and luminescent in the light, reflecting every color thrown at it. His face was obscured in the shadow of a red vinyl cowboy hat, but the crowd’s focus was always elsewhere than his head. He thrust his buttocks up around the pole and slid down, spreading his legs to pump his bulge against the waiting hands of the audience. He pulled back then spun around the pole, feeling his heart yearn for sustenance, to feel something akin to the ecstasy the crowd around him was reveling in. He found Greg’s head among the crowd, but Greg was focused on a different person and Jason’s practiced leer faltered. If nothing else, Greg was predictable. Jason followed his line of sight to a young man—blond, tall and slim, just the start of a gym lifestyle reflected in his musculature. Greg zeroed in on his prey and reached out to pull him close. He ground his slight body against the newcomer and planted a wet kiss on his cheek, whispering something to him before sending him careening toward the exit then striding to follow.

  Jason leaped from the podium. He thrust and ground against various other men on his way to Greg, but kept his attention on the blond in front. His path was fraught with fans, though, so Jason’s bulge ground against butts, was cupped in hands and bounced off other, leather-clad bulges. The crowd groped his thighs and squeezed his muscles. But none of this distracted Jason from his goal. A body-length behind, Jason reached out and pulled Greg back by his elbow. Greg spun in shock and they fell against a velvet rope then on behind a beaded curtain into the VIP area. The two of them stared at each other in silence as the small, but brilliant, lights of Sydney watched over them.

  “What’re you doing?” Jason asked.

  Greg shrugged. “I’m horny,” he said.

  Jason grabbed a napkin, wiped his face of sweat and sat down with a sigh.

  Greg shifted on his feet. “Mate, he’s gonna get away. You wanna join?”

  Jason opened his mouth, but it was a moment before he could speak. “Do you know where Mack is?”