[C] The Pit Stop

Working for Tony was usually a very simple job. He enjoyed the simplicity of it. He just wandered around the club and made sure that no one was mistreating the feeders.

Easy.

When Tony decided that she wanted him to do other things for her, he cringed and died a little inside. She could be very demanding at times. Like tonight. She had wanted him to go out and find some asshole that owed her a favour.

It had taken him hours, but eventually he had found the asshole and delivered him to Tony at the mansion. Zuri very rarely visited the mansion. He didn't care for it. He was quite happy to live at the brothel.

But while he was here, he was going to make a stop for some blood before he headed home.

As the blood heated in the microwave, he leant against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. The beads braided into the ends of his microbraids clicked together as his head leaned back.

How long had it been since Martin met Doc and started the road to recovery? A week maybe?

Yes, a week sounded about right.

What year was it anyway? 2000? Gods, when did it become the new millennium?

Days, months, years, they all passed by in the blink of an eye. Marty could never keep up.

The fact that it had been in fact, nearly a full year since he met Doc, and not a week, proved that much.

He spent most of his time too fucked up to even function, so months would go by without him realizing it. It was a messed up life he lived. But surprisingly, this was the upswing for him. Since meeting Doc, he'd been doing much better. He still forgot to eat most of the time, but at least now he wasn't messed up on heroin 99% of the time, like before.

Right now though, he felt a pain in his stomach. It must had been a week or so since he last fed, judging by the fact that he was actually remembering to eat.

Looking like a mess, like he always did, he made his way to the kitchen to find some food. He hated feeding from plastic bags, but it was better then nothing. He'd always prefer the feeling of a pulsing vein underneath his teeth, though.

It took him awhile to find the kitchen, he got lost or distracted a number of times. But when he finally did, he found there was someone there he didn't recognize.

He could never remember names or faces, but he always remembered scent, and this one was fresh and new.

Martin, dressed in only a baggy pair of pajama pants he stole from some chubby girl with blue hair, shamelessly padded into the kitchen. He was so thin, his ribs showing against his pale skin. His nipples were pierced, as well as his belly button. That, with his messy, faded blue hair, smudged up black eyeliner, and assortment of pretty rings on his fingers, made him quite the sight to behold.

"G'morning mate... er... g'night...what time is it?" He asked the stranger in his thick cockney accent. He realized he had no idea what time of day it was.

"Three o'clock in the fucking morning," was Zuri's reply.

His blood red eyes raised after a moment and he arched a brow, eyes trailing slowly over the Vampire's sickly thin body.

"Well, shit, hooka, you look like yous hasn't seen a bite to eat or a sip to drink in months."

Zuri reached over to the cupboard above the microwave and pulled out a bottle. He read the label and gave a pleased noise. "Least that mofucker stocks the good shit," he murmured approvingly as he pulled open the microwave door and removed the steaming mug. He topped it up with vodka and took a big gulp.

"Free in the mornin' aye? Wod ya look a'that, I'm on a decent schedule fer once." The thin vamp said proudly, a goofy smile coming to his pierced up face.

He retrieved a bag from the cooler and poured it into a fancy looking wine glass, and then put it in the microwave, now that the stranger was done.

"It's probably bin awhile, yeh." He said with a shrug, staring at the win glass spin round and round in the microwave, mesmerized.

"Wish I could say the same. But mama dearest is a fucking bitch. Been up playing Ray fucking Donnovan for her fine ass since four o'clock in the morning."

Zuri snorted into his spiked blood as he took a deep gulp. It burned down his throat pleasantly. "Twenty three fucking hours of this shit and I aint got nothin' to show fo' it. Bet the bitch won't even give me a good fuck for it."

The Vampire ran a hand through his braids, messing up the beads. They clicked against each other noisily.

"Your skinny white ass needs more than just a glass o' blood hooka. Get some food down your throat."

Marty kind of sort of listened to what the man was saying, but he wasn't registering any of it. Most of the words just flew right over his head.

It was pretty obvious too by the blank look on his face. In a lot of ways, Marty was like a little kid. He was easy to read. When he was zoning out, it was painfully obvious.

He blinked in surprise when the microwave beeped. Taking the now warm glass of metallic nectar, he reached his hand out to the bottle of vodka.

"Gimme summa tha'poison, will yah?" He asked, the gems on his rings glistening as he waved his fingers, as if beckoning the bottle to come to his hand.

Zuri didn't mind that Marty wasn't listening. He didn't care if he listened or not, he just needed to get his annoyance at Giacinto off his chest.

"Yous aint getting none of this-" Zuri lifted the bottle and took a deep chug from it. "Until you's get something down yo' throat."

The Vampire set the bottle down again and grinned a crooked smile as he looked down at Marty.

"Now drain yo' glass, fix up a burger and dig the fuck in. Only when yo plate is fucking spotless will you be gettin' any o' this poison. Ya hear?"

At first, Marty pouted, as an impulse reaction. But he quickly changed his expression to a sneer, bearing his teeth.

"Oi, who made ya in charge? I dun eat no fucken burgers, that shit is bloody sick. Jus' 'and it over will ya?" He said, knowing full well that he couldn't fight this man for it. This guy could beat him up with his eyes closed, most likely.

He wanted to feel all buzzed out, being sober sucked way too much. And right now, he was too sober for his tastes.

The baggy pajama pants hung low on his hips, showing the base of his flaccid member. He didn't even realize it. Mindlessly he tugged up on the pants, but it didn't do much, they just hung back down.

"Baby boy, I is the power in this mothafuckin' place. I is older than the dirt this house is built on." Zuri arched a brow, challenging Marty to act you.

"You do as I say and eat your mothafuckin' burger, then you'll get yo' poison."

The man leaned dangerously close, his lips just a hairsbreadth away from Marty's own. His red eyes almost glowed as he pinned Marty with his gaze.

"You feed yo skinny ass, then you can get as wasted as you like."

Martin was shit at backing down from danger. Especially when sober. He was always on edge and always so moody.

It didn't take a lot for him to really lose his temper.

But he wasn't completely stupid. He knew he couldn't fight this massive muscle pile of a man.

With a dark look on his face he took a sip from his wine glass, not breaking Zuri's stare.

"Fuckin' gyp gorilla." He hissed. He was not a happy vampire.

An amused grin curled his lips.

He raised a hand to pat Marty's pale cheek gently. "Baby boy, yous gonna have to try a lot harder to insult me than that. I's been called things yo' haven't even heard before."

Zuri pulled back to lean against the counter again.

"Where I live, we gots a rule," he murmured casually. "When yo' dicks out, yo play with it. I dont see no hand, mouth, foot or toy on that dick o' yours, so put it away."

Marty bore his teeth in a hiss when his cheek was patted. He was getting so angry he was sure he would just snap.

But what was said next surprised him. He looked down, he hadn't even realized the base of his cock was showing. Whatever! That wasn't even relevant!

He glared back at Zuri and, going against his better judgment, pounced at the man.

He clawed at the other vampire's face and arms, and sunk his teeth into Zuri's shoulder.

The larger man actually laughed when Marty pounced on him.

One hand came up to fist in the boy's blue hair while his other arm wrapped around Marty's waist.

"Yo roots are disgraceful. Yo need a serious appointment with a hairdresser, boy."

He doubted Marty would hear his words, though. If his blood touched the younger Vampire's tongue, he'd likely be out of it. He was old and his blood was potent.

As soon as Marty sunk his teeth into Zuri's flesh, he'd wished he'd done this sooner.

This vampire's blood was unlike any he'd ever tasted. It was so rich and made him feel that wonderful sort of funny that only happened from a good drug trip.

The room started to swirl a little and he felt light headed as he bit down harder, drinking in as much of the blood as he could.

A moan escaped him when his hair was pulled, and he didn't really hear the words that the man said. Only the deep, thick voice.

Marty's scratches turned from violent to needy as he dragged his nails down Zuri's skin.

A low, husky chuckle sounded from Zuri when the nails scraped slowly over his dark tanned skin rather than the frantic scratches he'd been given earlier.

"You waste any o' my blood and I'm bendin' you over my knee," he warned in a gentle voice as his fingers weaved through the younger Vampire's hair.

He had been planning to feed the boy his own blood, anyway. Marty was far too skinny. He needed some good blood in his system.

Marty's eyes hooded. Hmm, getting bent over a knee suddenly didn't sound too bad. But there was no way that Marty was going to let any of this blood go to waste.

The boy completely forgot about the blood in the wineglass. This was much more preferred.

He let out a soft growl as he kept drinking, gulping up the blood and loving every second of it.

Not only did it sit warmly in his stomach, filling him up and making him feel content, but it had the bonus side effects.

He straddled himself on Zuri's lap, the top of his rear showing as he pressed himself close to the man's body.

Damn incubus blood, Marty didn't stand a chance.

His hand slid under Marty's ass to hold him in place as he lifted himself up to straddle him.

"Yo' bitch ass ain't getting lucky if you drain me of all my blood, hooka." He groaned softly as Marty took a particularly deep pull of blood.

"I aint gettin' it up if I aint got no blood to go in it."

He tugged at Marty's hair.

Marty cringed a little, but a smile came to his face as he pulled back and looked into Zuri's eyes.

"Were we fighting? I.. I think we were fighting tho..." He said, looking a little confused, but the silly smile stayed on his face.

Whatever, fucking was much funner than fighting, and it had been a long while since Marty had gotten to to be on the receiving end of the deal.

"You was mouthin' off at me, hooka. No fightin' involved."

He arched a brow as Marty's lips spread into a dopey smile up at him.

"Yous just a baby if you's this fucked up," Zuri hummed, tapping his fingers against Marty's cheek.

"Well? You gon put that mouth to good use or what?"