#like I’m not even gonna pretend I’m normal I’m such an anomaly bro

[selfinserttothestars]

This is me, having read all 19 available chapters of book 7 in what was probably an hour (maybe an hour + 30??? Idk I wasn’t keeping track) because I constantly crave lore.

[jerevino]

Sink In - Chapter 4

Pairing: Ryan/Gavin Plot: Vampire AU based on the post “vampires always like “i could kill you if I wanted” like? yeah? so could another human being. so could a dog. so could a dedicated duck. you arent special”

Chapter 1 / 2 / 3.  AO3 here.

Ryan wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

He knew that his incredibly ludicrous plan had been a long shot, forming a list of possible outcomes in his head until he’d watched Gavin Free flee the bar. The first option had been the police; it was the most sensible solution for any normal man, but the slow reaction time had given Ryan hope. He was grateful that he hadn’t had to pack up and leave again, but it meant that the clearer options were slowly being crossed off.

The second had been blind hatred. Gavin had not seemed entirely angry, although Ryan also assumed that the Brit didn’t have much of a hateful bone in his body, from the few minutes they’d spent talking. The third was cool hostility, bribery, and manipulation to test and play at how much of a non-killer he really was.

What Ryan hadn’t anticipated was the cold shoulder.

He knew that it would take Gavin time to process all of the information, and that he likely wouldn’t hear from him at all for a few days. But days turned into weeks, and after twenty long days of no contact, Ryan was beginning to question his choices more so than he already had in the days previous.

Seriously - What kind of childlike dickhead cut off all contact after all that had happened. In all his years, and all the times he’d foolishly tried to let someone in on his lifestyle, not once had anyone been catty enough to ignore him without a big blowout first. It was getting on Ryan’s nerves, and he wished he could just track Gavin down and confront him. But intruding on Gavin’s life would only do the opposite in gaining his trust, so Ryan succumbed himself to a tense game of waiting in frustration.

Ryan hadn’t told someone in eight years. He hadn’t told someone because of what happened eight years ago; the discovery, the explosion of rage, the fear, and then -- the running. He’d had no choice but to up and leave, horrified by the disgust he’d caused in his girlfriend’s eyes. Since then, he’d always considered the best option to be silence and seclusion.

But something about Gavin Free had stuck, the stupid taunting and the reluctance to just turn him over ingrained in his head on a loop. The Brit was obviously horrified by the entire situation, but there was something else, something Ryan had clung to, something he hadn’t seen in years. Beneath all the disgusted looks and gulps of fear (something Ryan was used to) had been a layer of curiosity. And that was more than he’d gotten a taste of in decades.

Ryan needed Gavin to know, to understand, and he wasn’t even sure where the strength of his need had come from. He was desperate, and impatient, and just really goddamn lonely.

And so he waited.

~

Gavin was losing his mind.

After his meeting with Ryan, his world had done a complete one-eighty. Geoff was concerned by the entire situation, but seemed wary of bringing it up with Gavin. He dropped subtle hints, wondering what Gavin was going to do - He couldn’t stay with Geoff forever, and if his apartment wasn’t safe, what then? But Gavin was an expert at deflection, and promised Geoff that things were being worked out.

Things were most certainly not being worked.

His thoughts were plagued by this sudden new reality he was living in; a world where vampires might exist, and serial killers could be surprisingly friendly, and that someone as simple as Gavin Free could end up in the middle of it all. He wasn’t sure what to think, and the more he thought, the more he panicked. The problem was that he was being forced to think about the situation at all, to consider the possibilities and make a decision from there.

And the worst was that he was starting to believe it. Belief was conditional, though, for his own sanity. Maybe Ryan Haywood was the anomaly, a freak of nature and the only one of his kind. He could handle one strange being, one person with a curse found only in young adult novels and horror stories. His thoughts strayed to something else Ryan had said, you might be a lot safer knowing we’re out there.

No. One vampire. He could stomach one vampire. Start there, Gavin.

The next issue was his apartment. While some of his concerns had been quelled, Gavin still wasn’t sure just how safe he’d be on his own. Maybe Ryan insisted that there was no need to worry about him, but Gav figured it was smart to wait before trusting the words of a deadly killer. Maybe he could get some new deadbolts, or a machete, or a guard dog. That would put some of his unease to rest.

He knew he should have called, if he wanted to sate the rest of his curiosity. Ryan had given him a number for a reason, and Gavin should have taken advantage of his new source of information. But the very thought of making any contact just yet made his stomach turn, so instead, he focused on other things; friends, work, vampire research. His film shoot had gone well, and he’d gotten some uncut footage back from the director. It might have only been a small indie film, but this was a step in the right direction. He wondered briefly if his career would come to an end if he got tangled up in the lives of vampires. That was another thought that put him off.

So he’d called up Jeremy for real this time, asking him to go for drinks. Anything for a distraction. Anything to get away from Geoff’s silent judgement. Anything to forget about Ryan bloody Haywood and his shitting vampire curse.

~

“The movie’s gonna be ten times better with your slowmo, dude. How much are they paying you, anyway?” Jeremy was grinning at him over a rum and coke, cheeks tinged red as he trespassed into drunk territory. It was nice to see him, Gavin decided. It had been far too long, and Jeremy had a way of making people feel a lot lighter. Bouncier. Good.

“Its nothing spectacular, but its more than the last shoot. A much better film, too, from what I’ve seen. They hired a couple of bigger actors, who’ve actually been on TV. Should be pretty good - might make it into a few festivals, even!” Gavin nursed his own drink, shrugging softly. He hadn’t signed on to the shoot for the publicity of it all, even if it was a bonus. He just loved filming, and hoped to do it on a more professional scale some day.

Jeremy tilted his head thoughtfully, although there was a glazed look in his eye. Must’ve been the rum, Gavin decided, before a split second later Jeremy spoke again. “How long was the shoot? You look exhausted, Gav, must have taken a lot out of you, huh?”

That threw Gavin for a loop. The shoot had ended a few weeks ago now, a detail he’d conveniently left out. It was easy to mistake Jeremy for being a bit slow - the muscles, the occasional frat bro attitude, and his tendency to use like as often as he breathed. But in truth, Jeremy was incredibly observant, and Gavin shouldn’t have as been surprised by the comment as he was.

“Oh, uh…” Gavin started, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his head. “It sure did.”

Jeremy raised a brow, sipping noisily at his drink, and Gavin suddenly felt like he was being scrutinized with an all too careful eye. “You good, man? If you’re too tired, we can head home. I’m pretty fucking gone, so I don’t mind.”

Gavin had never wanted to tell the truth so bloody bad in his entire life. Jeremy was good, and kind, and understanding despite what appearances might suggest, and he was one of Gavin’s best friends. He would get it, he would help figure out what Gavin was supposed to do. He ached with the strength of it, words getting lost in his throat.

Instead, he flashed Jeremy a brilliant smile and ignored the urge like usual. “That might be a good idea. Lookit your little cheeks, all red, ooooh Jeremy, you’re right buggered up, aren’t you?”

Jeremy rolled his eyes, but it was with good humour. He plopped a bill down on the table for the drinks, and moved to shrug on his jacket. Gavin was grateful that the conversation had moved away from him, because he wasn’t as strong as he wanted to be, and a slip-up like that could be costly.

“We should do this again soon, Gav. And you should get more drunk, ‘cause I’m doing too much of the work. You good to get home?”

Gavin nodded, already requesting an Uber. He smiled, waved at Jeremy as he left, and then instantly deflated. He shrugged off his jacket, and decided to order another drink to gather up the right amount of bravado needed to go through with his decision.

To Haywood, 9:42 P.M: Clementine’s, on Government. Now. We need to talk.

~

Geoff wasn’t fucking stupid.

He knew there was something going on, because as much as Gavin tried to pretend that he was a ball of god damn sunshine, Geoff could see right through it. He didn’t know what exactly, but he had a pretty strong sense that it had to do with witnessing a fucking murder. Which, for the record, Geoff still thought he should have reported. Who doesn’t do that? Who sits on it and lets it eat them up inside?

Gavin fuckin’ Free, that’s who. And it was driving him crazy.

Geoff didn’t want to push it, because he knew that as much as he could be stubborn, Gavin had a surprising resilience himself. But the Brit’s stupid mind was set, and Geoff wouldn’t be the one to tattle; he just wished Gavin would. Staying at his place was fine, but Geoff couldn’t house him forever, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Gavin hadn’t thought of a solution just yet.

And now he’d gone out for drinks with Jeremy again, and while Geoff wasn’t the jealous type, he couldn’t help but wonder if Jeremy was in on it, too - and the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. Was Gavin sharing information with him, because he trusted Dooley’s opinion more? It didn’t seem fair, considering all that Geoff had done already. He wanted inside Gavin’s head, so that he could stop fuckin’ worrying, but Gavin was a conniving little shit and his ideal end goal seemed pretty impossible right now.

He supposed he’d just have to give it time.

~

Gavin was far too many drinks in by the time Ryan showed up.

The more he drank, the more his brain muddled and the less he thought about the possible implications of his decision. He’d briefly considered that Ryan might not show up at all, but he’d washed away the thought with another Moscow Mule. Gavin had no game plan, no structure to follow, aside from the questions raging in his head and the bravado of a lot of alcohol. He was lost in thought, staring deep into his drink as though it could solve his problems, when the clearing of a throat roused him from his inner monologue.

“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.” Ryan said smoothly, sliding into the chair opposite him where Jeremy had been sitting an hour beforehand. “You seemed pretty urgent. Has something happened?”

Gavin stared at Ryan for a few seconds to long, eyes bloodshot. When he spoke, his words were slurred and slow, betraying his current state. “You’ve driven me bloody mental, is what’s happened. I can’t stop thinking about it all. You… You’re an arse, Haywood, and I think you owe me a flippin’ drink for this.”

Ryan quirked a brow, devilishly so, and it pissed Gavin the ‘eff off. “You asked me here… To buy you a drink?”

Gavin spluttered, reaction time slow and sluggish. “No! Well, yeah, that’s part of it, but I’ve got questions, too, and you owe me for the mess you’ve made.”

Ryan nodded sagely, forgoing a response in favour of flagging down a waitress. Gavin was too busy fuming to hear what he said, but when he turned back around, the git was smiling.

“What do you want to know?” He asked finally, offering Gavin a casual shrug as though to say, ‘I’m an open book.’

“Well, I… For starters, I want to know how many bloody people you’ve killed. I’m trying to see both sides here, but its hard when I know people die, innit?”

Ryan paused, lips pursed in discomfort. Gavin couldn’t believe he’d struck a nerve so early, but the other man was quick to recover. “I don’t know. I used to keep count, but it… It did me more harm than good. I’ve lost track.”

The sorrow in Ryan’s voice might have been a trick of Gavin’s drunk ears, he decided. Losing track of how many people you’d killed sounded awful to him, but it led into his next question. “So… How long have you been one, then? A vampire, or whatever.”

Ryan gave a wry smile at that one, waiting until the waitress had set their drinks down before answering. “Twenty four years. I was turned in 1985, and the rest is history.”

Gavin’s eyes widened. “You’re thirty-two, then? You said last time you’d be fifty-six. Thirty-two’s not a bad age to be forever, is it?”

Ryan was surprised that Gavin had remembered that detail, given the glassy look in his eyes, but he decided not to comment on it. He supposed the shock of something so foreign would make anyone analyze all the details. “Its not awful. I’d rather this than twenty-two, or sixty-eight.”

Gavin tilted his head, expression thoughtful. “So.... You were alive in the seventies? You experienced disco, and the wars, and - You’re ancient.”

Ryan scoffed, taking a long sip of his drink before answering. “Fifty-six is not that old. You’re basically a child, anyway, so you don’t get to talk.”

“I’m twenty-four! That’s completely adult.”

Ryan laughed unabashedly, a sound that had Gavin spluttering all over again. He knew inwardly it was wrong to enjoy this, because odds are that the Brit would turn tail and run the second things got uncomfortable again. But it was nice to laugh, and forget, and enjoy himself for a few moments.

They went silent for a while, Gavin carefully sipping his drink and Ryan alternating between watching him or the people around them. When Gavin spoke again, his voice was far quieter than it had been previously, and there was a distant look in his eye.

“Do you have to kill them?”

Ryan did his best to hide the flinch, hoping that Gavin was drunk enough not to notice. His voice was tense when he responded, and hoped that that was also lost on the inebriated Brit. “What do you mean?”

Gavin frowned, shifting nervously in his seat. “Well, I mean - Do you have to suck all their blood out? Couldn’t you just… Take a little and go? Why do they have to die?”

Ryan supposed that was a fair question; one that he himself had wondered time and time again, after each and every kill. Why did they have to die? “The curse, it’s… It’s not easily controlled. After I’ve fed, I feel pretty normal. But the desire builds, and becomes hard to ignore, and when I finally do taste the blood, its - I can’t control it. And I’m not satisfied until I’ve had every last drop.”

Gavin grimaced, slurping up the last of his drink with a disgusted look on his face. “Oh… So it’s like taking a piss.”

Ryan balked, brows high on his forehead in confusion. “I-- What?”

“You know! Like, when you really gotta piss, it’s hard to ignore. And once you start going, stopping is super difficult. Its like piss, but you’re sucking up instead of spewing out.”

Ryan stared at Gavin with a gaze so intense, it made the Brit shift uncomfortably in his seat. In truth, Ryan couldn’t believe how carefree the response was, disgusted but not horrified. Gavin had taken it so easily, and maybe that was just the alcohol talking, but Ryan had not experienced something so close to acceptance in decades. He clung to it like a lifeline, soaking it in for as long as he could before something terrible happened.

Finally, when Gavin looked as though he was ready to run out of the sheer discomfort of it all, Ryan laughed. It was hearty and good, and the relief that flooded across Gavin’s face only made him smile more.

“Yeah, sure. Its just like taking a piss, if you want to put it that way.”

They talked for a long while after that, Gavin getting progressively more drunk, asking Ryan a plethora of ridiculous vampire related questions that shouldn’t have been as funny as they were. Ryan obliged him each and every one, taking the obscurity of them in stride. Gavin grew increasingly more interested, words slurring together, but never losing his enthusiasm.

Finally, two in the morning rolled around and they were forced to pack up and leave. Ryan offered their server a kind smile, and paid off the whole tab, while Gavin struggled to get his jacket on. Ryan hadn’t realized the extent of the Brit’s intoxication, because he couldn’t stand without wobbling dangerously, and the look in his eyes was far away from there.

In a moment of poor judgement, Ryan reached a hand out to steady him. Gavin tensed, but did not push him away, so he took that as his chance to carefully lead Gavin out of the building and into his car.

“You can’t drive…” Gavin said in a moment of clarity, glaring down at the vehicle.

“I’m not drunk.” Ryan said simply, carefully lowering Gavin into the passenger seat.

“But-- You were drinking.”

“Diet Coke. I don’t drink alcohol.”

Gavin looked like he was about to protest, but Ryan was already circling the vehicle to climb into the driver’s side. The Brit didn’t say anything else, on the verge of sleep in his seat - And didn’t say anything again until they pulled up outside his apartment, and Ryan was helping him out of the vehicle. “Wait - This is my place.”

Ryan frowned quizzically, guiding Gavin into the elevator. “Yeah, I’m taking you home. You’re very drunk.”

“I-- Okay.”

Ryan had to wait for Gavin to pull out his keys, but he managed to get him inside and into bed with his shoes off, and a glass of water on the night stand. Maybe he was pushing his limits, but he wasn’t an asshole, and leaving Gavin to suffer in his drunken state wasn’t in his nature. He turned to leave, when Gavin grabbed his wrist.

“You’re real.” He said firmly, before his eyes closed and his hand fell limp against the bed.

Ryan smiled, turned heel, and let himself out of the apartment, while Gavin dreamed of a smiling face with canines glinting.