Chapter Text
Santa gazed around the bar, keeping his movements as slow as needed to not draw too much unwanted attention, the practiced way he'd known. Nod and tilt your head slowly; remember to blink a few times a minute. Don’t do anything that would make people suspect something wasn’t quite right with the way he smiled, the way he moved with too much grace, the way his pulse didn’t exist and his heart didn’t beat.
But it all felt really futile if you thought about it, Santa was bound to attract attention wherever he went. And that wasn’t even him being vain.
He'd been given natural good looks from when he’d been part of the world, in another life. His pronounced bone structure, high nose bridge, large eyes and long eyelashes would be considered ideal in almost all periods of time but even more so in the 21st century. His pale, pretty face with his slim frame and long limbs had people asking if he was a model constantly. But Santa knew that wasn’t what drew people to him. Not really.
The allure he had was due to something else entirely. It drew humans in, made them obsessed with him if he’d let them. It made the primitive species wonder what they could do to get a second glance from Santa, to hold his interest even for a few seconds. It enhanced his already attractive features to something that went beyond the physical. He was intoxicating even though he smelled of nothing. He was mesmerizing even without trying. It made Santa more beautiful, more captivating, more desireful.
And more dangerous.
Because everything that Santa was, from the tips of his fingers to the locks of his hair was designed in such a way that drew prey in. To be hunted without much thought, discarded with even less. Like a moth to a heartless and bloodless flame. The power they held over humans and the earth in general made Santa’s kind cocky and fearless. Sometimes reckless.
It also forced them to stay within the shadows, in the dark. Their identities ever changing, their existence hidden.
But Santa wasn’t really one for world politics or keeping a low profile. He considered himself as someone who lived in the moment. Someone free and young, well relatively young, anyway. He had fun enticing humans, breaking a few hearts and having his fill of them before he moved on. Humans were so easy after all. Easy to read, easy to decipher, easy to destroy. Santa did what he felt like and moved on when he no longer felt like it. Attached to no place, attached to no people.
Santa’s phone buzzed in his pocket at the corner booth he was seated in and he pulled it out swiftly before grimacing at the caller ID.
Unfortunately, some people he couldn’t help but be attached to. Not that Phi Boun was much of ‘people’ either.
“What is it?” Santa asked after he pressed the device to his ear.
“What is it?” the creature on the other side repeated in mock, “you crazy brat, are you really asking me that right now?”
Phi Boun was mad, Santa had expected as much when he snuck out after direct orders not to. But Santa wasn’t much for orders or rules. You’d think the couple of centuries they’d spent together would have taught his phi as much.
“I told you it wasn’t safe yet,” the voice on the other side prattled on, Santa’s heightened senses allowing him to listen to him and also groove to the slow music around him, to return the smile the petite brunette at the bar sent him. To hear as she told her friend beside her how sexy Santa was from all the way across the bar.
“You should’ve stayed in Santa, you just got here.”
Santa’s smile fell. There were some places he was less attached to than others. And for him that was the place he’d lived back when he'd actually been alive. Trauma was something even the nonliving seemed unable to escape and that was what Thailand was for Santa. Trauma he couldn’t understand, couldn’t even remember. That was why he hadn’t been back to the country since he’d turned.
Leave it to Phi Boun to remind Santa about the less fun things in life.
But he was here now and he wasn’t really sure why yet. The coven was against the idea but something had pulled Santa to his birth country and he had to figure out what it was. Even if it risked symptoms hard to describe, caused reactions hard to predict.
So here Santa was, out in a random bar on his first night back in Bangkok since he’d died here a long time ago.
It was strange but Santa wasn’t really afraid, fear was something immune to most of his kind. Instead he was… intrigued. Curious.
But unfortunately, Phi Boun was concerned enough for the both of them and a few hundred others.
“It’ll be fine, Phi,” Santa told him, already imagining all the pacing his brother was doing. “I’m feeling fine.”
“Where are you now? I’ll come get you.”
Santa scoffed, eyes focused on the girl who would most likely be his first meal of the night make her way over from the bar towards him. She had a sultry walk and a nice smile, her hands carrying drinks for both of them. The dim lights and smooth music did nothing to hide the flush on her face or the pace of her pulse from the alcohol she had in her system. Her heart thudded loudly in Santa’s ear and her blood smelled… passable.
“Are you even listening to me, you bastard?” Phi Boun yelled into his ear, his usual smooth voice scratchy.
Santa’s meal smelled of too much perfume, too much hair product, too much vodka. It all tainted her blood and made Santa’s mouth dry in the most unpleasant way. It made him tilt his head ever so lightly, disinterest setting into his features. But the brunette seemed too drunk to get the message.
“Don’t worry Phi Boun, I’ll be back soon,” Santa assured him, “this place is a bore.”
He cut the line and placed his phone on the glass table in front of him just as the girl slipped into the booth and beside him. She pressed in close, placing her gift in front of him, brown liquid swirling inside the glass.
It wasn’t that the girl was unappealing, far from it. She had good features and an even better body, her clothes were all branded and relatively new. But her blood wasn’t up to Santa’s picky standards and it wasn’t worth giving his brother an aneurysm over, Santa thought with a sigh. He’d wanted to break in Thailand quickly but maybe tonight hadn’t been it. This bar hadn’t been it.
So Santa turned to his now unwanted guest, unsmiling.
“Thought I’d bring you a drink since your table’s empty,” she whispered near his ear in her best sexy voice.
And it looked like Santa wouldn’t be drinking anything any time soon either. He sighed, not wanting to be too rude for no reason.
“How thoughtful of you. Thanks.”
“I haven’t seen you in here before,” she continued, thankfully pulling back slightly. “New around here?”
“Lived here in another lifetime,” Santa answered easily, leaning back, his movements languid.
“How’re you liking it so far?” she asked, “has it changed much?”
“Not as exciting as expected. So I’m planning on leaving soon.”
“Bangkok?”
“This bar,” Santa clarified, smiling easily.
“So quickly?” she asked, a pout on her lips. “Left someone back at home waiting?”
Santa thought about his worried Phi and how he was probably making life difficult for Phi Prem at the moment and almost smiled.
“Something like that.”
She placed her perfectly manicured fingers on Santa’s black sleeve, pressing firmly, suggestively.
“Has anyone ever told you, you have gorgeous eyes?”
More than he could care to count.
“Some,” he answered, like the humble creature he was. “They say it’s almost mesmerizing.”
“They’re right,” she agreed, not even slightly put off by his vain reply. “I’m trying not to drown in them.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage.”
“Don’t be like that,” she purred, persistence being her middle name, “stay and have fun with me.”
“Enticing offer,” Santa replied, slipping away from her touch smoothly. “But I’ll pass.”
The buzz in the bar seemed to increase then and Santa didn’t have to turn from his corner booth to know the people inside were excited about something about to happen. There were shifting chairs, equipment being set up and loud chatter as preparations for what seemed like a live performance. Santa had noticed the small stage at the other end of the bar when he’d come in but there had been no signs of anything but spotify playing in the place since then. It made him pause for a reason, intrigued.
“What’s happening?” he asked his lady friend, who was also glancing over with him.
“Perth,” she said, like it answered everything when it answered nothing.
What was a Perth?
As if to answer the only question he'd had since he'd walked into the random bar, a human appeared from behind dark and heavy curtains, making his way onto the wooden stage with precision of someone who'd been on it a hundred times. Almost like he wasn't human.
But he was. Santa could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady, even before he could see his face. His wide form in dark clothes had his back to Santa as he bent over to pick up an acoustic guitar from its stand beside the microphone.
"He plays here most nights," the brunette Santa had mostly forgotten about, explained from beside him. "Pretty good. Very hot."
So Santa had no choice but to find out if this Perth lived up to the hype. The guitar skills and the face. He finally seemed to have set things up, guitar strapped around him, mic height adjusted and earpiece in place. Then he turned.
And Santa was… impressed.
Perth was handsome, incredibly so. Thick eyebrows framed a strong face, tanned skin and deep eyes. But what Santa saw in the eyes was even more intriguing. Emotions threatened to spill out of eyes masked in fake enthusiasm. But Santa was still pretty far and the bar was rather chaotic. He was yet to make proper eye contact. Smell his blood. Things that would clue him in to the most interesting human in the otherwise dull establishment.
Perth stood behind the mic and bowed only slightly as an overhead light turned on, momentarily blinding him. He squinted almost painfully at the intrusion and Santa found himself sympathizing with the human. Light could be frustrating.
Perth got used to it quickly enough, another small bow in greeting to the few dozen people in the place, most of whose attention was turned to him. Santa wasn't used to not being the most interesting thing in a place.
He watched as Perth used the pick to test strum his guitar twice and clear his throat into the mic twice, not bothered much by the eyes that watched him.
"Hope you enjoy," he simply told everyone, not bothering with any sort of proper introductions.
And then he sang.
Sang absolutely beautifully. He sang four lines in an inticing low tone of a song Santa had never heard before and then started playing his guitar to add layers to it, to enhance it. Make a performance of it. And it was a beautiful performance.
No over the top sound system or added instruments, or backup vocals or autotune, no pretenses or playing the crowd. He simply stood there, looking at no one in particular as he played his beaten looking guitar and sang.
Sang with hidden emotions, estranged lyrics. This Perth seemed to become more and more of mystery as he sang. Santa hadn't even realized he'd sat upright in his seat, that he'd started leaning forward. That he was all of a sudden focusing on one thing rather than all the things he was used to.
The rest of the bar faded, the lights unneeded, the other humans and what they had to say or how they smelled, unimportant. Only Santa in his corner booth and the musician in the other end of the place.
And suddenly Perth's eyes landed on Santa. And unlike all the others in the room that the performer had swept his glance over, his gaze lingered.
Santa wasn't sure if he smiled but Perth messed up a note he was supposed to play right at the very end of the song. Only Santa noticed it though, the crowd erupting in applause. Santa tilted his head as Perth continued to stare at him, mesmerized.
Santa stared back. The applause didn't mean much to Perth, he deciphered the bare minimum from the human, but strong guarded walls seemed to stop him digging further. A barrier of sorts that perplexed Santa as this had never happened to him before.
Humans had always been easy to read. Someone tapped on the musician's shoulder and their eye contact was broken.
Santa wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.
But then Perth was disappearing through the curtains and out of the room. Santa found himself standing before he realized he'd moved, the movement a tad too fast to be human.
But luckily the bar was very dark and his soon to be ex companion was very drunk.
"Gotta go," he managed to say to the girl before he was making his way through the bar and towards the blue curtains his musician had passed through.
His human… hmm. Interesting.
No one stopped him and it didn't really matter much as it just led to a normal back room filled with extra furniture and crates. Your average dusty, storage space for a typical bar. It was deserted too, Santa's musician nowhere in sight. His eyes shifted to the only door out of the place, possibly out of the bar, a backdoor. He did however catch a faint scent of him, the first real whiff of him.
And it was… enticing.
Santa's boots echoed through the small space before he crossed it, trying to pace himself better. This wasn't like him. He was usually composed and had others come to him.
The cool night air hit Santa's face as he stepped out through the door and outside into an alleyway behind the bar. A street light flickered overhead and even the lingering scent of rain couldn't mask the stink of rubbish and bodily fluids that invaded Santa's senses, making him rethink his decision coming back here. These sorts of places were made for quick feeds; little light, less people, no security cameras. But Santa had never been a fan. He actually enjoyed feeding and liked his environment and his humans to meet certain standards.
He didn't have to walk very far to find what he was looking for, his beating heart hitting Santa's ears even before his eyes landed on him.
Perth stood in front of him, leaned against the grimy and graffitied wall of the bar, a cigarette in his hand, an unreadable expression on his face. Even with the smoke around him, Santa finally was able to properly smell him. It almost made him stagger.
Delicious.
It was a scent like nothing Santa had ever experienced, indescribable. It wrapped around him, tugged at him, made him gravitate towards this human he didn't even know. He felt himself physically tremble from the sensation of it all. He willed his fangs not to drop even though his whole being begged for a taste.
Who was this human?
The dark eyes registered Santa's face and he watched, unmoving, his hand with the cigarette stopping halfway up to his mouth. Santa wasn't used to being watched this way. The human's eyes made him feel like he was being stripped bare, all his defenses gone. This type of emotion was foreign to Santa and he didn't know what to make of it. What to do with it all.
"Do you want a smoke?" Perth, the human offered, his deep voice interrupting the silence. Santa hadn't realized his gaze had dropped to the cigarette, or more accurately, to the wrist holding it. The flood that flowed there thudded in Santa's ears. Santa steadied himself, a practiced smile falling onto his features.
"No thanks," he told Perth, "I don't smoke. The smell is awful."
The cigarette dropped from the human's hand almost instantly, his sneaker crushing it on the pavement. Santa watched the gesture without comment and raised his eyes back up to see Perth was watching him again.
"I liked the song you played," Santa told him truthfully, stepping a little closer. "An original?"
Perth nodded. "Thanks, uh…"
"Santa,"
"Santa," Perth repeated. "I'm Perth."
"I know."
The flirty intention didn't seem to affect the human much though as he pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against, dusting off the back of his arms. Santa watched silently as he came within arms reach.
"You're staring," Perth told him.
"Are you going to play any more songs tonight?" Santa asked instead, reaching over to remove a smither of dried paint the human had missed.
Perth didn't pull back. "Probably not."
"That's a shame."
"Is it?"
"Yes," Santa admitted, his eyes falling to the human's throat. "You have a beautiful voice."
Perth actually smirked at that, making Santa feel a certain sort of way at how his lips tugged up and his eyes softened ever so slightly.
"Are you flirting with me, nong?" Perth asked him. Santa wanted to tell him that he was addressing him wrong. Santa was by far his elder. But he grinned at the human instead.
"Would you like that, phi?"
Perth tilted his head, intrigue fitting into his expression. "Why do they do that?"
Santa’s brow arched. “What do you mean?”
“Your eyes,” Perth clarified, nodding slightly, as if trying to point them out without losing focus. “It’s like they’re trying to see through me.”
Santa felt the faintest flicker of unease ripple down his spine. He kept the smile pinned in place, but his gaze sharpened; reflexively, instinctually. Humans weren’t supposed to notice things like that. Not unless he wanted them to. Not unless he was feeding.
Which he wasn’t. Not yet.
"I think it's you that's trying to flirt with me, Phi," Santa copied Perth lightly. "You were staring at me during the performance earlier."
"That's because you're beautiful," the human responded almost immediately, his voice low as he reduced the space between them until he was very, very close.
"And you know that."
"I've heard it a couple of times," Santa responded with a shrug, enjoying how broad the human was up close, how big he felt despite their similar height.
Santa was a predator, but he didn't mind a different sort of dynamic from time to time. He watched with an easy smile as Perth's gaze fell to his lips.
And just like that, the human's eyes were now very easy to read. They glinted in their own version of hunger and that was pleasing.
"Go on then," Santa invited, face tilting up and closer.
"I smell of cigarettes," Perth warned, voice barely a whisper now.
"And other, better things…"
The musician leaned in and reduced the few inches remaining between the two of them, his lips meeting Santa's.