Page 20 of Inhuman Natures #1

Shaun

It should have been weird for Shaun to sleep in Rake and DJ’s bed. However, as he snuggled further under the duvet, encased in their combined scents, he felt like he belonged.

If only they were there alongside him.

He also should’ve cleaned up before crawling into the bed, but he’d been close to unconsciousness in the recliner before Rake had pulled him up and led him to the bedroom. DJ had even tucked Shaun in.

Despite the comfort and his tiredness, he fell into a fitful state.

He didn’t always dream when forced into sleep by the sun, but nightmares plagued his unconscious thoughts.

Visions of Lawrence hurting Rake and DJ—making them suffer for Shaun’s actions.

It left him hollowed out by the time he awoke in the darkness.

Always darkness.

At least Lawrence wasn’t there to greet him.

Lawrence rose early every night, the two of them having opposing schedules.

Unlike Lawrence, who fell asleep at sunrise every day without fail, Shaun had trained himself to stay up later and later.

But he hadn’t ever risked a peek outside in those precious minutes post sunrise.

Part of him was scared of what might happen, but a larger part simply wanted to preserve his memories of the daylight.

As a kid, Shaun had visited Brighton with his parents, and he still remembered the scorching summer heat as they sat on the pebbled beach.

He could remember the stickiness of the sweet vanilla ice cream as it dripped down his fingers, melting faster than he was able to eat it.

Most of all, he remembered the blinding reflection of the sun on the waves as he stared out across the sea.

Thinking of those moments left a lump in his throat and an ache in his chest.

Only the noises from the living room distracted him from his melancholy. He sank further into the bed as he listened to Rake and DJ ribbing each other as they played a game.

Instead of going through to join them, Shaun turned over in the bed and lay on his stomach, reaching around to the bare skin on his back.

Rake and DJ’s blood had gone far in healing the scratches on his arms and face, which looked weeks old now, as opposed to less than a day.

But if the deep lines were anything to judge by, his back wasn’t faring as well.

Shaun shoved his head into the pillow. Rake’s pillow.

It smelled of his minty shampoo. Shaun couldn’t help but think about how Rake had tasted; rich and decadent, as strong as the man himself.

DJ’s blood had been different, but just as satisfying; sweeter, with a hint of spice.

Shaun’s gums ached as he fought to keep his fangs from dropping.

Just the idea of drinking from one or both of them again had him salivating.

He knew, now that he had the clarity of sleep and blood, that he shouldn’t have told Rake and DJ of his true nature. But considering the way he’d arrived at their flat, hiding it wouldn’t have worked. Even though every cell in his body protested the idea, he should compel them to forget about him.

Whilst Lawrence had barely informed Shaun of the vampire laws held up by the territory leaders, the most important had been revealed the night they met.

You cannot tell a human about vampires unless you plan on recreating them as one.

Shaun had now broken the tenet that underpinned all of vampire society, and had no intention of rectifying the transgression. He wouldn’t doom Rake and DJ to a life of vampirism, especially not with the target that was currently on his back.

Before he figured out what the hell he was going to do about Lawrence, however, Shaun resolved to spend some time with Rake and DJ.

Shaun got out of the bed and crept to the living room, peeking his head around the door to check on the couple.

They wore twin expressions of concentration as they gamed together on the dark blue sofa, a few mismatched cushions scattered at their feet.

Their entire flat was decked out in muted colours and basic IKEA furniture—nothing like the grandness of Lawrence’s house.

Shaun couldn’t have been more pleased with the stark difference.

“Hi,” he said in greeting, leaning against the doorframe and trying to appear casual.

DJ fell off the sofa with a yelp, clutching at his chest. His controller skittered onto the carpet. “Jesus fucking Christ, Shaun. You scared me half to death.”

“Sorry,” he said, contrite, even though he stifled a grin. He wasn’t used to being around anyone who wouldn’t hear him coming.

Rake—whose sole reaction to Shaun’s sudden presence had been to turn his head—rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to apologise. Deej is being dramatic. How did you sleep?”

Whilst DJ mumbled about not being dramatic, Shaun shot over and helped get him to his feet. “I slept fine,” he said.

“One of these days, you’re going to give me the truth without me having to ask twice,” Rake said.

DJ deposited himself back on the sofa with an audible oof . “You still seem a bit messed up.”

“Thanks,” Shaun said dryly.

DJ pointed to his arms. “I meant that you’re still healing.”

“You should take a shower, though,” Rake said. “I bet you’ll feel better. I put a fresh towel on the radiator for you. Help yourself to whatever you need clothes-wise, too. I washed the stuff you were wearing after I got in from work, but it’s still drying.”

“Thank you,” Shaun said, before leaving the room in a hurry so as not to get outwardly emotional over the kind gesture.

The shower was smaller than the one at Lawrence’s, and the water pressure left much to be desired, but Shaun didn’t mind. Besides, this shower had Rake and DJ’s toiletries lined up on the side in a neat little row in order of size.

Shaun revelled in the opportunity to use their body wash and shampoo. It meant he would carry their scents, and it made him want to purr with contentment. Scrubbed clean, he wrapped the towel around himself and returned to the bedroom .

He picked through some items in the chest of drawers until he decided on a pair of bright red football shorts and a loose sweatshirt he could tell belonged to DJ. It was soft, faded from too many washes, and perfectly enveloped Shaun’s smaller frame. It was like wearing one of DJ’s hugs.

After spending a bit of time towel-drying his hair until it no longer dripped, Shaun went back through to the living room. Rake and DJ were playing a game he recognised. “Mario Kart!” Shaun said. “I haven’t played in so long.”

“Which version did you play?” Rake asked, eyes not leaving the screen.

“We had it on the GameCube.”

“Ooh, retro,” DJ said, crossing the finish line and then patting the sofa beside him. “Come sit. Wanna play?”

Shaun squeezed his body into the small space between DJ and the arm of the sofa. It left them close, touching from thigh to shoulder, DJ emanating heat. Shaun couldn’t remember the last time his body had felt such warmth.

Rake got another controller and handed it to Shaun. “You need me to show you how to play?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Five minutes later, Shaun regretted his refusal when Link fell off the edge of the track for the third time. “Why don’t vampire reflexes work on racing games?” he said. “I suck .”

“In more ways than one,” Rake commented.

“Was that a vampire joke or a gay joke?”

“How about both?” DJ said, then whooped in delight as he stole first place from Rake.

“You’re getting spanked for that later,” Rake said, and a flash of heat radiated through Shaun at the light-hearted threat.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t punish me for being better than you at gaming?”

“As many times as I’ll have to remind you that you like being spanked.”

DJ rubbed his shoulder against Shaun’s. “You’ll get the hang of the game.”

But Shaun’s focus had shifted from the screen now that the topic of spanking had come up.

Rake and DJ didn’t even seem to realise they’d been talking about anything titillating.

Thanks to his distraction, Shaun passed the finish line in lowly seventh place.

He wanted to throw the controller in a rage, but settled for pouting.

“Aw, poor Shaun,” DJ said. “You’re terrible at this.”

“Go easy on me,” he said. “I haven’t played this game in over a decade.”

“What was the first games console you owned?” Rake asked.

Thrown by the specific question, Shaun took a second to answer. “Gameboy colour. The see-through purple one,” he added. He’d begged his parents for months before they’d caved and bought it for him.

“That’s proof of your age,” Rake said, muting the TV but leaving the game on the finishing screen.

“What other games did you play?” DJ asked. He looked to be enjoying the new topic of Let’s Remind Shaun That He’s Horrendously Ancient.

Shaun searched his memory. It had been a while since he’d thought about the games he’d played as a kid.

“Pokémon…Red. And Silver? Some other Mario Bros. games. And, um, so me hamster game?” He looked helplessly at Rake and DJ, leaving Link to race through the track with a dejected expression on his face.

“Hamtaro!” DJ said, pointing at Shaun as if he were the host of a game show and Shaun had won the top prize. “Though I’ll not be accepting Mario Bros. as an answer. You might as well have said Zelda.”

“Oh, I played that too. For sure.” Shaun pointed at the screen. “That’s why I played as Link!”

“That doesn’t count either, because I gave you that one.”

Shaun sighed. “How does knowing this prove anything about my age, anyway? I could have been into old-school gaming and had a SNES or something like that.”

“Most kids get their first game consoles before the age of ten,” Rake pointed out. “Though it’s getting more common for kids to get consoles much younger than that, it’s a good indicator of what era you grew up in.”

Shaun grimaced. “We’re not from different eras , Rake.”

“You’re in your thirties. That makes you a millennial. DJ and I are both Gen Z. Literally different generations.”