AN: no smut, though the prompt was the cover image and that's pretty...suggestive. This was fun to write. As always, read, comment, and rate please!! and tell me if I should continue this... so yeah, maybe tbc but so far only this. Thanks so much! Enjoy!!

 Thomas Barrow knew how people worked. They were all like clocks. They only lived while their insides still ran, still ticked.

Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick…

Thomas Barrow wasn’t like other men. He didn’t need his insides--I mean, he did, but not like others did. He needed blood...he needed to consume blood.

Thomas’ friend Edward was different too. Having been gassed and blind from The Great War, and severely depressed at that, he slit his wrists while he was alive. Now, he was a ghost.

They were outcasts. Edward didn’t mind that much--he had no other choice, really--but Thomas did. Thomas Barrow was lonely and bored. So he sent his friend on a mission.

Find a young man, handsome and pure, and bring him to me.

x-X-x

“Thomas! I found one.”

Thomas had just nodded off--jesus, Edward was taking a long time--but he jerked awake to his call. He was sitting on his chair--his beautiful throne--with his legs crossed comfortably under him. They lived in a warehouse.

Sometimes he hated all of humanity.

Anyway, Edward appeared, holding the arm of a...well, he couldn’t have been older than twenty five at the most. And he looked terrified--Thomas almost laughed, he couldn’t see Edward!

The boy’s eyes landed on Thomas.

“Sir--something...something’s grabbed me and--and I don’t know what--please--help--”

His voice--rough and young at the same time. Thomas’ lips twisted into a small smile. Wavy blonde hair fell onto the boy’s forehead, and--god those eyes... He stood up leisurely, and reached for Edward’s arm, who had been staying silent.

“Edward.”

The ghost let go of the boy’s arm, and he fell in a heap, his knees buckling immediately, and his handsome face flushed.

Thomas bent and lifted his chin so he was forced to look at him. He still looked scared--and he was shaking. But there was something else too...he looked angry.

“What’s your name, young man?” Thomas murmured.

The boy curled his lip--brave. He had no idea the damage both Thomas and Edward could do… “Why am I here?! What do you want with me?!”

“He asked you a question.” Edward said to Thomas’ right.

The boy’s head whipped around, panic lighting up his blue eyes. “Who’s--who’s there?!”

“It’s all right.” Thomas said, and the boy looked back at him. “Edward won’t hurt you unless I want him to. Isn’t that right?” he smirked at his friend.

“Of course.”

“Now,” Thomas looked back at the boy, his hand taking his chin so he’d look at him again. “I did ask you a question. What’s your name?”

The boy swallowed, looked like he was about to come up with another retort. Then all of a sudden his shoulders slumped. “James. James Kent.” he paused, and a stream of questions flowed out of his pretty mouth. “Why can’t I see ‘Edward’? Who are you? And why...why am I here?”

“My name is Thomas Barrow. I have...business I’d like to conduct with you. And Edward is...special.” he patted the blind ghost’s arm, and heard him laugh quietly.

“Thanks,” James scoffed, still on his knees. “That totally clears everything up.”

“Glad I could help.” Thomas smirked.

“That was sarcasm.”

“Noted.”

“What sort of business?” James asked suddenly, a hint of nervousness creeping in his voice.

“All will be explained later, James.” he said, and then he frowned to himself--he sounded...soft! That was bad... This boy--James--wasn’t here to be his friend. He was here to be consumed.

“O-okay. Uh...when can I go home...? My-my mum will worry, and…”

“We’ll make arrangements. Isn’t that right, Edward?”

He nodded, before disappearing. Thomas and James were silent for a moment.

“Is-is he gone?” James finally ventured.

“Yes.”

“Can you see him?”

“Yes,” he repeated, with a slight roll of his eyes. “Of course I can.”

“Well then, why can’t I?” James said defiantly. Thomas hesitated.

“You won’t believe me.” He’ll find out sooner or later, a snide voice said in his head. You brought him here; you can’t protect him.

“Mate, I’ve been kidnapped by an invisible thing and am here now,” James said with a cocky smirk--and Thomas’ stomach clenched not unpleasantly. “Try me.”

Thomas sighed. “I can see him because I have a closer connection to the dead than regular humans do.”

Silence. Thomas stole a glance at James.

“You mean--you mean he’s dead?” James asked slowly, frowning.

“Yes.” Thomas sighed again and nodded. “He’s a spirit. Do you believe me?”

“I...I don’t know.” James shook his head. “That’s insane. Impossible! The dead stay dead. Why would he even--?!”

“He had an unholy death.” Thomas murmured quietly. “Suicide. We were friends when he was alive.”

“Oh.” James said. “Uh...sorry, I guess.”

Thomas gave a bitter smile. “Thank you. And...don’t tell him I told you this. He’s a private man.”

James grinned weakly. “Oh, don’t worry--I won’t talk to the scary dead guy any more than I have to.”

Thomas stood and offered him a hand up; James took it--sparks shot through Thomas’ fingers (literally)--but the younger man frowned. “Hey--you’re cold.” he pulled out a pair of worn gloves and handed them to him. “Here.”

Thomas accepted them, smirking at him as he put them on. “A man kidnaps you, and you offer him gloves.”

James shrugged, a shy smile twitching his lips. “You haven’t hurt me or anything. You don’t seem that bad…”

Oh, poor thing. He had no idea…

“...and as soon as we get this--this business sorted out, I can leave, right?” James looked a bit nervous then.

Thomas knew the answer, of course. When he was done with this “business” young James here would be dead--quickly, if he was lucky. But...if he told him this, he’d freak.

“Of course,” he lied smoothly, smiling in what he hoped was a pleasant manner. The color seemed to return to James’ face, so it must’ve worked. “But I don’t know when, exactly. Until then, we’ll make your stay as comfortable as possible. And we’ll answer all the questions you have...all in good time.”

“Okay,” James said.

“A few rules, to make sure we both are good. You will address me as ‘Mr. Barrow’; you will address my friend as ‘Mr. Courtenay’. You will be polite and not cause problems. And no matter what, you won’t wander about at night.”

“Okay, of cour--wait, why can’t I walk about at night?” James frowned. “Night’s the best time to think.”

“I agree.” Thomas said. “But it’s not safe, you see.” he lowered his voice sinisterly. “We don’t know what sort of godless monsters roam when the lights are turned off, now, do we?”

James gulped and nodded.

“Glad we got that sorted out.” Thomas said, brightly so that the younger man jumped. “Now I’ll show you to your chambers.”

James followed Thomas to a darkened room, and with a jangle of keys, he unlocked it. The younger man squinted in the dim light, then walked in.

“Um...thanks, I guess…?”

“Have a nice stay.” Thomas said flatly. “Here’s your key. Now, remember the rules; and one of us will summon you for supper.”

“O-okay…”

Thomas gave him one fleeting smile. James blinked...and he was gone.

x-X-x

“What an odd man,” James said to himself, shutting his door and flipping the light. It...wasn’t the fanciest, to say the least. The man--Mr. Barrow, he remembered with a nod--seemed to be rich. Then again, he had a ghost friend and a warehouse for a house, so there must’ve been about a million things he didn’t know about him.

Anyway, back to the room. There was a wireframe bed, and it looked lumpy and dusty. James wrinkled his nose. He liked nice things, though his family was middle class to begin with. That made him sad. He hoped Mr. Barrow--or that ghost man--had called his mum so she wouldn’t worry…

There was one window, way up high. James pushed the chair--the only other piece of furniture besides a cold wooden desk--to it with a grunt. When he was done, he let out a sigh and pushed his bangs up. Then he hopped up on it to look outside.

There was a moon. It was wrapped securely in clouds.

He let out another sigh, quieter. This wasn’t so bad...but he missed his home.

x-X-x

Thomas knocked on the door about an hour and a half later.

“James?”

No answer. He sighed.

“James!”

Slightly annoyed, he turned the door handle and peeked inside. And his sharp-featured face softened, though only a fraction.

James was slouched on the chair against the windowpane, his head buried in his arms in sleep. His blonde hair was messed up, and his sweater was rumpled.

Thomas smiled. “Sleep well, James Kent.” he whispered, before shutting the door with a soft dull click.

James shivered in his sleep; something cold washed over him.

x-X-x

“When are you going to consume him, Thomas?”

Thomas jumped in his study, hitting his head on his lamp.

“Edward.” he said through gritted teeth. “How many times do I have to tell you? Alert me of your presence--or you’ll be sorry.”

The ghost smiled blandly. “You can’t hurt me, my friend.”

“No. But I can still make you miserable.” Thomas threatened halfheartedly.

Edward gave an eyeroll with his destroyed eyes. “Thomas, you’ve threatened me like this before. Do you ever do anything?” he paused, and Thomas stayed silent. “Right, that’s what I thought. Now what do you think of Blondie?”

“James.” he said automatically. Then, “Well, he’s afraid of you, for one.”

Edward laughed gently; a soft-spoken educated man, for this line of...work. “As he should be. He really should be more afraid of you, though.”

Thomas stayed silent, opening his large book. Edward frowned.

“You didn’t tell him, did you…”

“No.”

“Well, what did you say?”

He sighed and turned the page. “I told him he could eventually leave…”

“That’s a lie.”

“I know.” he said frustratedly. “But what am I supposed to say?! You’re going to die?! I’m going to suck your blood?! He’d think we’re insane.”

“We are, a bit.”

Thomas smiled, his grey eyes bright and cold. “Yes.” then he turned and looked at his friend. “Edward...I think we should wait a bit. Before killing him.”

“Why?” Edward said suspiciously.

“I think we should gain his trust first. It’d work better. Trust me.”

“Well, it’s on your own life.” Edward said doubtfully. “But you know what you need...and I don’t want you to starve, all right? So just...don’t take too long. Get your information, and then get him, yeah?”

“Fully noted, my friend.” he patted his arm--colder than his own skin, which was pretty cold to begin with. “Now I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“Good night.” Edward murmured.

Thomas stood and started for the door--

“Thomas. Listen to me.”

He paused, eyebrows raised, and turned.

Edward sighed and bit his lip. “Promise me this. Don’t...fall for him.”

Thomas’ frowned. “Honestly, Edward--!”

He held up a hand. “Look, I know you. Remember what happened to Phillip.”

Phillip--the body of his former lover in the darkened basement. Dried blood coating his neck...he’d been living off of that for the past few days.

“...remember that this new kid will have the same fate. So just...don’t get attached, yeah?”

“Yes.” he said coldly. “Good night.”

He walked out of the room and slammed the door angrily. But after he was alone, he sagged against the hallway wall, his face in his hand.

Oh no...what had he done…?

Had he fallen for James Kent…?!

the end. possibly tbc. don't forget to comment and rate!!