Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 10

to a stranger, but Luke didn't feel like stranger. He never had, which made the whole thing so surreal. But there was no denying Charlie trusted Luke.
    Completely.
    Crazy, but there it stood.
    Apparently, one of Luke's strays had been arrested last night for giving out "blowies for five quid"—damn he loved British colloquialisms. Luke had gone to bail him out, leaving Charlie bored, restless and alone in the flat. To kill time, he decided to go downstairs to the bar and have a bloody Mary. Though tomato juice and vodka could never compare to the real thing no matter how much hot sauce Tim put in it.
    Charlie felt like every other blood he'd tasted must be a cheap knock-off compared to Luke's. It had become like a weird combo of Red Bull and crack for Charlie. He couldn't get enough of it or enough of Luke feeding off him. Thinking about his lover's hot, thick essence filling his mouth as his own essence was sucked from his body, made Charlie's skin flush.
    Adjusting his crotch before he entered the bar, he couldn't believe one human still made him hard. But the more time he spent with Luke, the more he wanted him. He loved the way the solid, hair-covered lines of Luke's body had now become familiar, a cherished place only Charlie got to play with. He didn't think he would ever grow tired of the man's body or enthusiasm for life and knowledge. Luke had infused Charlie with a newfound appreciation for living which years of solitude and struggle had slowly whittled away. He hadn't felt this good in…well? Ever.
    This sire bond thing had turned out to be pretty fucking awesome.
    "What'll it be?" Tim asked when he slid into a stool. "The usual?"
    "Yup." He waved politely to one of the regulars sitting at the end of the bar. "Hi, Lenny."
    "Charles," he slurred. The old alcohol-soaked queen with over plucked eyebrows was their only customer. Charlie found the guy amusing because his accent thickened the more his blood alcohol level increased then Charlie couldn't understand a damn thing he said.
    A drink garnished with celery and a pickle was placed in front of him. "There ya go."
    Charlie raised it in a toast then took a sip. "Awesome, as usual."
    "Thanks." The bartender had turned out to be straight, oddly enough, so Charlie's initial jealousy had been unwarranted. He had been suspicious of Charlie moving in with Luke at first, but it hadn't lasted long. Perhaps he, too, sensed the rightness of their bond.
    "Is Luke back yet?" he asked, suddenly hungry for his lover though they'd fed good last night. Hell, they fucked and fed so much Charlie had to convince Luke to buy black bed sheets to hide all the blood stains the washing machine couldn't remove.
    "No." Tim slammed his hand down on the bar in frustration. "He should've just left George down there, the bloody fool."
    Charlie smiled. "Nah, Luke can't do that."
    Tim nodded in resigned agreement. "That wanker will never listen to reason."
    "Which one?" Charlie joked and Tim gave a bemused sniff.
    As stubborn and kind-hearted as they came, Luke would fight to save George from a life of prostitution, drugs and disease with his last breath. Such determination and generosity was something Charlie adored about Luke—loved maybe? He couldn't decide which yet. Probably both, though the word 'love' had yet to be spoken between them. He could sense it coming, however, and it didn't scare him as much as he expected.
    "I need another gin and tonic, sugar," Lenny said.
    Pouring another double, Tim slid the drink to the man with a smile. "There ya go, sugar."
    Charlie sniffed a laugh and raised his glass to the old drunk, though he was a good thirty years younger. There was a decided family feel about the place and Charlie wondered why he had hated bars so much before. Maybe because everyone else would be having a good time with friends and he'd been alone. Or perhaps it was just because of Luke.
    Being with Luke these last two weeks felt like he'd finally come home. As if this was where he should've been all his life. Here at Luke's Saloon , he had found the colony he'd been looking for.
    Of course, Charlie may have found a man to sire a bond with, but that didn't stop him from being a cynical bastard—which was why it didn't really surprise him when Margo and her two lap dogs walked into the bar like they owned the place before Charlie even finished his celery.
    "Hey, I thought we told you two to bugger off?" Tim growled at Allen and Scott.
    Lenny perked up and turned to watch