The smell of sweet honey and citrus oranges guided Lysander across campus. He had been on his way to hunt when the delicious aroma filled his nostrils. Trusting his night vision, he concentrated and followed his senses. Lysander had waited one-hundred and eighty-two years for this day, he could almost taste it as he got closer to the source.
He entered the football stadium and walked, as in trance, until he stood up in front of the beautiful blonde. For a moment, the man seemed afraid, but a shy smile returned Lysander’s, letting him peek at the man’s fangs.
“I’m Lysander, my love. Can I have you?” he asked, showing his fangs.
His mate nodded and then giggled when Lysander wrapped his arms around him, bringing their bodies closer. He could feel the other man’s semi-hardness against his, making him smile. Lysander nuzzled his mate’s neck, raising goose bumps on his wake. He pressed small kisses until he found the right spot and without delay, bit into the soft skin. Lysander’s body shuddered as blood filled his mouth. He panicked, pulling away from his mate’s embrace.
“You… bit me!”
“Store bought. Yours?
“Very real, my mate.”
200 words flash fiction