Love Bites & Sweet Tea

High above, passing over Jacksonville, flutters a bizarre sight for those who bothered to look up into the starry sky. A cloud of bats fly overhead in formation. One hauls a satchel, a few more carry a picnic basket, and the others bring a variety of garments and accessories in various states of decay and deprecation. The colony touches down on a rooftop garden on Amelia Island; just one of the many luxurious vacation homes currently out of season.

The bats get to work. They struggle to maneuver around each other, filling in pant legs, maneuvering undergarments into place, adjusting belts and suspenders, and building themselves into two humanoid forms. With a shifting of shadows the silhouettes cease being a gestalt of flying mammals, and return to being two old men in old worn out clothes.

The first is an ashen man with glowing red eyes behind a pair of pince-nez. The wrinkly old wisp of a man adjusts his bomber jacket with visible discomfort. “I miss my old cape. It never got twisted when changing forms.”

The second man was a darker gray, like gunmetal without the sheen. He was built tough despite his visible age. His trench coat billows in the wind, revealing a dress shirt that is so heavily patched its original material is a mystery. He rubs at his silver goatee and narrows his violet eyes. “What was it you said, Seti? Something about a damnable cape that got caught on every door. Some threadbare nuisance that you were always cleaning. 'Good riddance to bad rubbish.'”

“In my defense, I'm not known for my stellar decision-making, Djedefre. Yes, including the breakup.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“But I could see it in those cute glowing eyes of yours.” Seti smirks. “Just want you to know I'm still sorry, and the break was a mistake, and I'm happy we've been going strong for... oh, what day is it.”

“Don't be coy with me, you little shit. Or I'm not sharing the tea.” Djedefre says as he opens the picnic basket and takes out a set of antique china, supplemented with Tupperware containers of tea sandwiches, and an old heavy-duty thermos that would look right at home in a war museum.

Seti interrupts by leaning in and giving him a kiss, dropping his snarky attitude. “Happy anniversary, Djedefre. To a lovely thousand years.”

Djedefre is left speechless. He runs his hands through his silver hair with a big flustered smile. “Yeah, longer than that. The break didn't count. It was just a century of us being huffy.”

“I brought a dish to pass as well.” Seti says as he opens his satchel. It is full of trinkets of sentimental value, but on top is a layer of blood bags. “I figured for the anniversary night, we could B-Positive.”

Djedefre licks his fangs. “It has been so long since I've fed... How did you get these?”

“We're not the only blood suckers out there. Some one opened a for-profit blood bank,” Seti explains.

“You bought these? How much did it cost you?”

He grins, baring his fangs. “Oh, they were free. It turns out it doesn't cost anything when you steal it.”

“Seti!” Djedfre shouts.

“What?” Seti protests, “It was a for-profit blood bank! They had it coming!”

Djedefre laughs as he looks over the bag. After a while he ponders. “Do you think this is a front? Sounds like something Khafra would try. He was on about making a vampire friendly society.”

“He was on about making himself a lot of money, is what he was on about.” Seti tosses his lover a blood bag before fishing one out on his own. “Anyway, the whole 'B-Positive' thing was only half a joke. I only had a few moments and turns out they were sorted.”

Djedefre shrugs. “It all tastes the same.”

“It does not!”

“You always told me it all tastes the same, but suddenly scientist discover blood types, and you are,” he raises his pitch to a mocking squeak, “'You know, I always knew there was something going on with that. I could taste the difference.'”

“I don't sound like that. Anyway, cheers.” They smile at each other, tap bags, and bite in.

Their fangs bleed the bags dry as a bit of warm color returns to them. The years are peeled away with each ounce of blood. Soon they sit side by side, back in their prime. Djedefre puts his hand by Seti, and Seti returns the gesture by lacing their fingers together. They stare into the sky and bask in the starlight watching the shadow of the new moon drift through the sky.

Eventually Djedefre breaks the silence. “There is something serious I want to talk to you about.”

“Are you pregnant? Am I not the father?! Oh, the drama!” Seti swoons and falls over into his lover's lap.

“Stop it. I mean serious.” Djedefre's glowing eyes keep staring at the moon as he frowns.

“Alright, I got it out of my system.” Seti rolls over on the grassy roof to look Djedefre in the eyes.

“Moving forward,” he turns to meet his partner's gaze, “I would like to take a crack at managing our finances.”

“Is this about the tulips thing? Because I am pretty sure I came out in the black on that.”

“No, it's not the tulips thing. It is literally every other financial decision you've made. It's romantic and all, to wander the night for eternity with you... but we're some of the oldest vampires, and we still don't have a house. Lilly is doing fine up in New York, Cellini's got his Vineyard. Vlad is... well... he's Vlad.”

Seti raises a hand, a look of confusion on his face.“Vlad's still kicking? I thought that vampire hunter got him.”

“That was a book. Of course he's still kicking.” He shakes his head, getting back on topic. “Anyway, we have been undead for hundreds of years before Lilly and thousands of years before the others and... I know I shouldn't compare our level of success to other people but... most vampires, if they lived as long as we have and still had this little to show for it, would walk into the sun.”

Seti sighs and rubs his temples. “Okay, I get it. I haven't always made the best choices with our money. But I haven't done that badly.”

Djedefre's eyes narrow. “South Sea Trading company.”

Seti grimaces. “Look, it was very promising. The king was backing it. Everyone wanted a piece of it. It was just like the East India Trading Company, just a different direction.”

“Yes, one went up, and the other went down.” Djedefre waves his hand, as though physically shoving that topic aside, and moves on to new grievances. “And so many other things. Like, how many times did you buy the Brooklyn Bridge?”

“We had just gotten to America, plenty of people fall for it!”

“Which was reasonable the first time you bought it. But two more times? Honey, no. And don't get me started on the non-fungible tokens.”

Seti throws up his hands in defeat. “Alright, you got me, that one was a bad idea. But I thought you'd like it. It's all... computers and science fiction things. You like Science fiction things. You got along great with that Issac person.”

“Issac Asimov.” Djedefre sighs. “I do miss him. Anyway, that has nothing to do with block chains. Most of his stories were about robots.”

“So you're saying... I should invest in that AI thing.” His eyebrows furrow as he starts scheming.

Djedefre groans. “Honey, you are doing that thing again. You're listening to my words, but not what I'm saying.”

Seti sighs and rolls over, dejected. “I know... I know I mess up a lot. It's just... You do so much for me. You're my brains and my muscles and... I feel like I don't really do enough to deserve your love.”

Djedefre sighs and rolls over, and his arms wrap around his eternal lover. “You don't need to do a god-damned thing to deserve my love. I love you, full stop. You're sweet, and funny, and cute. You make my long dead heart beat every time we talk.” Djedefre pulls Seti in tight. “I just want a crack at finances for a century, and from there we can decide.”

Seti huffs for a while but eventually, in Djedefre's embrace, he softens up. “Okay! One century! And after that I'll be ready to take that stress back off your hands. It's not as easy as you think.”

Djedefre breaks away from the cuddle and gets back to setting up the picnic. “I don't think it will be easy in the slightest. Now, tea sandwiches and tea. We have egg, cucumber, and salmon.”

“Salmon?” Seti raises an eyebrow. “Since when can we afford salmon?”

“Turn's out it's free if you steal it.” Djedefre flashes a bashful smile and delivers a plate of tiny sandwiches.

Seti grabs the thermos and pours two glasses of black tea. He doesn't say another word, but his wide fanged grin speaks plenty in the starlight. The two vagabond vampires clink glasses and enjoy the night.