Kieran's bedroom was large and filled with sleek, dark cherry furniture that must have broken someone's back to get in there. The foot of the bed faced a window looking out onto the street below. The wall behind the bed was painted in a cool red, and the air held the lingering scent of sandalwood.

In the midst of it all sat Jack. He'd been vaguely aware of being carried through the short hallway and set down on the edge of Kieran's bed. Kieran sat on the floor at his feet, hands resting on Jack's knees. He was torn between pushing Kieran away and pulling him closer to take whatever comfort he could get.

"Can I get you anything?" asked Kieran.

Jack turned his head away, refusing to meet Kieran's eyes. "Lindsey's a ghost, and you're not dead. What are you?"

"A vampire."

He'd been expecting a little resistance or flat out denial, not an admission to something that shouldn't be possible. An argument and fighting for a proper answer would at least give him a foothold on any emotion other than confusion. "God, what the fuck?! I've seen you in broad daylight!"

"Our weaknesses tend to be overexaggerated," Kieran said as he soothingly circled his thumbs on the inner sides of Jack's knees.

"No shit! Fuck! Blood flow issue. That neck fetish." Jack dropped back on the bed and covered his face with his arms. "God, you practically spelled out that you were a vampire since the beginning! I fucking sat on the couch!"

"I'm sorry, my sweet, but you're not making sense. What's wrong with the couch?"

He propped himself onto his elbows and glared at Kieran. "You! You're the couch! I'm the rat, and you're the couch-snake."

"I see."

"Blood flow issue." Jack sat up and covered the sides of his neck with his hands. "You were gonna bite me! Your spit numbed my neck! No wonder you put up with me, I'm cheap food," he said, finishing in a sulky tone. Of course that was the reason Kieran was interested in him. It made more sense than Kieran actually being into him and his near inability to function as a human being.

Maybe that was the point.

"No, my sweet, you're not," Kieran said, angling his head to meet Jack's eyes. He looked away as Jack made a point of not looking at him.

"Then why me? Why not someone else? Someone… Someone into that! Some weirdo goth or something."

Kieran absently ran a hand up and down Jack's thigh. "Your blood calls to us. Like a siren. It's…special."

"So you only like me 'cuz my blood is like crack for you guys," Jack spat out, knocking Kieran's hand away. "Figures."

Placing his hands in his lap, Kieran bowed his head and nodded. "Initially," he admitted. "And then I got to know you."

"Yeah, right. People don't date me for me. They get to know me and decide I'm not worth it."

"I think you're worth it."

"Bullshit. You just want my blood. You had to fuck with my head."

"Well… Yes. That might not have been my wisest choice."

"What, you couldn't trust me to make my own decisions? You had to hedge your bets?"

"At first, yes. But I… I had to take a different route to get you to warm up, and I got to know you better." Kieran breathed in unsteadily. "I've grown attached and find myself remembering why I avoid forming such attachments."

"Because they find out and get pissed off?"

"Because they always leave," Kieran whispered.

Jack dug his nails into his arms to keep himself from reaching out to Kieran. He didn't owe comfort to the man who hurt him. "How many times? How many times have you fucked with my head?"

Kieran let out a slow breath. "Five, I believe. I've only been truly successful twice. You're wary of letting go and relaxing."

"No shit! It's happened before! Like I'm gonna just roll over and let you… It… It's…" Jack frowned as he lost his train of thought. They were talking about why he never relaxed. "I don't trust people."

Kieran narrowed his eyes at Jack. "You've been enthralled before."

"The hell are you talking about?"

"We first met at the internet cafe. When was the first time you were enthralled?"

"Ten years ago, on Michael's couch." Just as the words left his mouth, he was left with a sense that he'd forgotten something. He looked around in confusion and ran his hands over the bedspread.

Couch. Something about a couch.

"We're not on your couch," he whispered. Nothing felt right. Where was he? "W-where…"

"You're on my bed, my sweet."

"I don't—" Something wasn't clicking. "How did I get here?" he asked in a whisper.

His mind was a skipping record; the moment he made progress, he was right at the beginning. It was like being on the witness stand all over again and trying to not come off as insane. A lot of good that did him. His breaths were ragged as he fisted his hands in the bedspread.

"You're safe, my sweet. Nothing will happen." Kieran licked his lips and breathed in deeply. "Do you remember why you came here?"

Jack's brows furrowed as he stared down at Kieran. Why was he here? He could remember being angry. Completely pissed off to the point where he'd gladly cause a scene, embarrassment be damned. "To yell at you."

"Why?"

He remembered seeing the plywood covering the window as he left that morning, offering to hook Kieran up with a fast tracked police report, and then grabbing the footage himself.

The footage.

"The security tape. You wiped my memory!"

"I did," Kieran said, looking away. He shook his head and sighed. "I made a poor decision and should have trusted you more. For that, I apologize."

"You're a vampire," Jack said through gritted teeth.

"Yes."

Jack swallowed as Kieran stared up at him expectantly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You have to work it out for yourself, my sweet. I can't reverse my own thrall, much less another's," Kieran said softly in a pained voice.

Jack's chest tightened. Someone else had messed him up long before he ever met Kieran. "My blood's like crack," he said slowly. He wasn't sure how he knew it, but it was true.

He licked his lips as he could barely recall being slapped and yelled at for going out with Tara on her twenty-first birthday. His fake ID had fooled everyone.

"Unless I've been drinking. Then it's sour. But you're happy enough to sit back and offer me a drink."

"Your comfort comes first. I can wait."

"Yeah, it's not like you've got a time limit or anything," Jack said with a forced laugh.

"Very true." Kieran gave Jack a sad smile. "What else do you remember?"

Jack stared at his knees as he desperately tried to remember bits of his life. He could usually ignore the missing chunks. No one really lingered on their younger years, but there was a difference between not thinking about it and not being able to remember. Normal people didn't forget their own middle name. Much less their mother's name.

He held his hand between them and relaxed minutely when Kieran took it. "I can't remember my mom's name," he whispered hoarsely as his eyes filled with tears. "I know it's there. I remember when I…when I visit and can see it, but I can't remember it. I can't keep it, and I never think to write it down," he said between sobs.

Kieran sighed and rested his forehead on Jack's knee. "You'll remember some day, my sweet. I'll help you. If you'll let me."

Jack tightened his hold on Kieran's hand. "I killed a guy."

"In self-defense."

"Lindsey's dead."

"Yes."

"Am I friends with a ghost?"

"If you want to be. She likes you," Kieran said, smiling softly.

Jack let go of Kieran's hand and hugged himself. "And I was dating a vampire."

Kieran's breath hitched. He swallowed and nodded. "You were."

"Can we take a break?" Jack asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kieran nodded and lightly squeezed Jack's knee. "If you wish."