I was hiding under your porch because I love you.

(From bleep0bleep's Random Prompt Generator.)

"Why did you touch the amulet?!" Flower says. "That's the first rule of this business -- don't touch the magical object if you don't know how it works!"

"I didn't think it would work on a vampire!" Sid snaps back. "Besides, if I hadn't grabbed it, the Puppet Master would still be in that construct, or in one of our bodies, instead of back in his own body where Tanger could kill him!"

From the floor, Geno groans. Sid's heart -- well, okay, technically, Geno's heart -- speeds up. He'd forgotten how fluttery human bodies get over the least little emotion.

"Sid?" Geno says. His voice is high and tight. "Can't breathe."

"It's okay," Sid says. "You can breathe, you just don't need to."

"Not need-- I get turned?"

"Uh, not exactly," Sid says. He leans into Geno's field of vision.

"Augh!" Geno says.

"It's okay!" Sid says. "I'm in your body and you're in mine."

Geno blinks up at him. "Huh."

Flower comes over to crouch down on Geno's other side. "Geno, open your hand for me?"

Geno uncurls his clenched fist. He's still holding the crushed amulet.

Flower brushes the amulet out of Geno's palm with a pair of wooden tongs that he carries around for exactly this kind of circumstance. The pieces clink to the floor, but nothing happens.

Geno's palm has a red mark in the shape of the amulet, but the blisters and cut marks are fading already. Sid remembers the shock of pain when he'd closed his fist around the amulet, the searing release of energy when it had broken, right before he found himself in Geno's body.

Flower pokes at the amulet with the tongs, then holds his hand cupped over it, not quite touching it. His eyes unfocus for a moment.

"It still has some power in it, but it's fading," Flower says. "There's probably a piece or two of it trapped under Sid's skin, when you healed, which is why you haven't switched back."

"What happens when the power is gone?" Sid asks.

Flower waggles his hand back and forth. "Probably you change back! But, uh, maybe you're stuck like this?"

"Fuck," Sid says.

"This why you don't touch amulets, Sid," Geno says, and Flower snorts out a laugh.

Sid glares at Geno, who is giving him an angelic smirk with Sid's own mouth.

"Come on," Flower says. "We should go."

Sid thinks evil magicians should be based out of secret underground caves, or possibly expensive condos in downtown high rises, not an elegant little row house in a gentrifying neighborhood. It's not quite as elegant now, windows blown out, furniture tipped over and smashed, scorch marks from magical overload on the walls and floors. Sid wonders what the cops will make of the construct in the middle of the living room, flesh already transmuting back into clay and bone.

Flower pulls a little notice-me-not spell around them as they go out the front door. Olli's waiting in the van, a few spots down. His shoulders slump with relief when he sees them, but he double-checks their reflection in the rearview mirror before he unlocks the doors.

All of Sid's senses feel muffled, deadened. He can't smell anything other than the faint fake pine and old sock scent of the van, can't hear Olli and Flower's heartbeats. Geno's ribs and shoulders ache from the fight, and Sid isn't used to this low-level pain that doesn't go away.

"We can give it a day or two," Flower is saying as they drive. "If you don't switch back by the time the energy in the amulet is completely gone, Duper and I will start looking for a spell to switch you back."

"Okay," Sid says. It's not like he has a better plan.

They pull into the old warehouse that Flower calls their secret base. (Sid has lost that argument.)

The first floor of the warehouse looks like any other rundown warehouse waiting to be flipped in this neighborhood, empty, dusty, supporting a large population of spiders. Olli parks the van next to Flower and Geno's cars.

Geno stumbles a little getting out of the van and grips the side of the door so hard he dents it. Sid winces, but doesn't say anything.

Sid punches in the code to the little office in the near corner of the building. The only thing in the office is a flight of stairs down to the basement. There's another door at the bottom of the stairs, solid and heavy enough for a bunker, and warded for one, too. The first floor is a front, the lower level is where Sid lives and works. Sid hates the thought of turning into a pile of ash because someone didn't think before they opened a door.

The lower level has been finished and decorated like any modern home. In addition to Sid's rooms, there's a kitchen, a gym, a lounge, and a communication center (with both monitors for video surveillance and a mirror for scrying).

Duper looks up from his computer when they come in. He doesn't go into the field with them anymore, but he's too stubborn to quit all together.

"Wow," he says. "Flower said, but...your auras are really mixed up."

Sid ignores that comment. "Did Tanger check in?"

"Yeah," Duper says. "He said they got him, destroyed the body, scattered the ashes over running water. Everyone's fine, they're on their way back now."

Sid exhales, feeling that last hard knot of anxiety in his gut loosen up. He hadn't liked sending Tanger over to France with just the new guys, no matter how good Kessel and Hornqvist and Daley were, but this was their best shot at stopping the Puppet Master once and for all.

And if the worse that happened is Sid has to spend a few days remembering to not try to override Geno's autonomous nervous system, it's a small price to pay.

"Good," Sid says. "We can do the full debrief when everyone's back."

*

Flower, Duper, and Olli go home.

"You're staying, right?" Sid says to Geno. "No offense, but I don't think your apartment is set up for a vampire."

Geno nods. There's strange look on his face. "Sid, I'm-- I feel..."

He trails off. He sways closer to Sid and Sid can see his nostrils flare, see the tips of his fangs behind his parted lips.

"Oh!" Sid says. "You're hungry. C'mon, there's blood in the fridge."

Geno trails after Sid into the kitchen. Sid pulls a blood bag out of the fridge and hands it to Geno, then pulls a big mug out of the cabinet, a pair of scissors out of a drawer.

"It's better if it's warm," Sid says. He takes the bag back, snips off the corner, and pours the contents into the mug. He microwaves the mug for the exact amount of time he likes.

Geno gives the mug a dubious look when Sid hands it to him.

"Don't think about it too much," Sid says.

Geno snorts. He takes a careful sip, and a lot of expressions cross his face at once.

"It's better if it's--" Sid stops.

"Fresh?" Geno says. There's a hint of smile on the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah," Sid says. It's better if it's live, if he's drinking from a person and not a mug. Bagged blood isn't bad, it just doesn't give him the same high as feeding off a person, and it's harder to ignore what he's actually consuming. Also, the texture gets a little off if it's not fresh.

"Hmm," Geno says. He drinks more.

Sid's stomach growls and he startles.

"You hungry, too," Geno says.

Oh, right.

There are microwave breakfast burritos in the freezer, for when the humans have a late night. Sid heats one up, pours himself some orange juice.

Microwave burritos are the bagged blood of human food, but he'd forgotten what grease and salt and cheese taste like.

Sid finishes the burrito and puts his glass in the dishwasher. Geno rinses his mug out and does the same. Sid yawns, and Geno moves his jaw like he's expecting to yawn, too, but it doesn't happen.

Sid looks at the clock. He can't feel dawn getting closer, the way he can in his own body, but he knows when sunrise is.

"You can have my room, all my clothes are there anyway. Um. Just -- remember not to go outside if you wake up before sunset."

Geno rolls his eyes. "Yes, Sid. Don't get hit by bus."

Sid huffs, but he probably deserved that.

Geno gives him a little wave and heads off down the hall towards his bedroom.

Sid looks at the clock again.

This body is tired, it's almost dawn, he should go to bed. But.

Just a few minutes won't hurt.

He takes the stairs up to the roof. When he opens the door, he flinches back instinctively. It's false dawn now, grey and hazy, but still so much brighter than he's seen in years. But Geno's body isn't bothered by it, so Sid takes a deep breath and steps out onto the roof.

He goes to the edge that overlooks the river. Off to the east, the horizon is getting brighter, soft, pale shades of pink and gold and white. The flat, smooth grey of the sky picks up a blue tint.

The sun eases up over the horizon, and Sid remembers to look away. The light makes the river shine like silver, makes the city glow like something new and perfect.

Sid can feel the sunshine on his skin now, warm and gentle. He closes his eyes and turns his face up into it, sits down hard and graceless on the roof without even meaning to.

He leans back, face tipped up to the sun, eyes still closed. Just a few more minutes.

*

Sid wakes up in the middle of the afternoon. There's a moment of panicky disorientation -- he's surrounded by sunshine and he doesn't know where he is - - and it makes his heartbeat jump, makes his breath come in fast, and for a second that's as disorienting as the sunshine.

Then he remembers what happened. He makes himself take a deep breath. He's stiff from having fallen asleep on the roof, the skin on his face feels hot and tight from too much sun, and he's hungry again. Thirsty, too. Human bodies are so demanding.

He goes back downstairs, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes. Even though he's knows he's not in his own body, it's still a little bit of a shock to see Geno's face in the mirror when he goes to the bathroom. And, yup, he definitely got sunburned.

He showers, eats another frozen burrito, and checks his e-mail. Kris and the others made it to the airport, they're somewhere over the Atlantic now. Flower wants to know if they're still swapped. He says he's found some promising spells for switching them back, and he's pretty sure they don't even need the chicken for one of them.

Sid's checking the news and the police blotter to see if there's anything about the mess they left at Puppet Master's house when Geno comes in.

"Almost sunset," Geno says, and there's a vague, unfocused look on his face, like he's paying more attention to the feel of night coming on.

Sid checks the clock. "Yeah."

Geno looks at him, and his eyes narrow. "What did you..."

"I didn't get hit by a bus," Sid says defensively.

Geno shakes his head. He leaves the room, comes back a few minutes later with the bottle of aloe gel from the first aid kit. Flower and Duper are the ones who usually need it (witchcraft apparently involves a lot of minor burns), but it hadn't occurred to Sid to try that.

"Oh." He takes the bottle, squeezes a little onto his fingers. He he rubs it into his forehead and cheeks, and it helps. "Sorry. I just..."

"Want to see sunshine?"

He avoids Geno's eyes as he caps the bottle and puts it aside, weirdly self-conscious. He doesn't dislike being a vampire, he'd make the same choice all over again if it came down to it, but there are some things he misses. "Yeah."

Geno makes a thoughtful sound, but he doesn't say anything.

Sid looks back at the computer. Geno pulls his cellphone out, starts dialing as he wanders out of the room.

For a long moment, Sid can't concentrate on anything. He's too conscious of how quiet the room is, how loud his breathing sounds, the way he can't sense anything from Geno just a few feet away. How alive this body feels. Then a new e-mail from Flower pops up, and Sid has something else to think about for a while.

When Geno comes back, he's got a big paper bag that smells amazing even to Sid's human senses.

"Delivery," Geno says cheerfully.

"You got someone to deliver to a warehouse after dark," Sid says dubiously.

"Good place, know the owners," Geno says.

Well, Sid's always the one who says this isn't a secret base.

Sid follows Geno into the kitchen. Geno's taking containers out of the bag and setting them on the table. There are two different kinds of dumplings, cabbage rolls, dark brown bread and butter. One of the containers is different, a logo featuring the Eiffel Tower stamped on the lid.

"Creme brulee," Geno says.

"You know you can't eat any of this, right?" Sid says.

"Duh," Geno says. He shrugs, looks down and straightens one of the containers. "But I think -- you miss sunshine, maybe miss other things, too. I don't know what you like, so, here, all my favorites."

"Oh," Sid says. His face goes hot. God, he'd forgotten what blushing feels like, too. "Thanks."

He sits down and reaches for a fork. He makes an embarrassing noise on his first bite. Geno smirks, and it's so clearly Geno's expression on Sid's own face that Sid forgets to chew for a moment.

"Good?" Geno says.

Sid swallows. "Yes."

It's not the rush of pleasure that feeding is, but the taste of the food is so vivid, so different from blood, that it's its own kind of pleasure. Sid eats slowly, making every bite last. Geno doesn't say anything, just lets Sid concentrate on the food.

Sid licks the last of the creme brulee off his spoon, sweet and cool and rich, with that thread of bitterness from the burnt sugar crust. He looks at Geno, and says impulsively, "What do you want to do, or, um, try? As a vampire?"

Geno goes still for a second, his eyes snapping to Sid's face. Then he gives himself a tiny shake.

"I want jump off roof," he says.

"Ugh, really?" Sid says. "I never should have done that in front of you. Okay, fine, but only a small building."

*

"Are you sure?" Sid yells up from the sidewalk. "You don't have to."

Geno's standing at the edge of the warehouse roof, looking down. "Yes!" he yells back, but it's still another minute before he steps off.

Sid's heart freezes and Geno lets out a whoop as he falls. He lands with a hard slap of sound on the balls of his feet, letting his knees bend to absorb the shock. He bounces up, grinning.

Sid's heart starts beating again.

"Wow!" Geno says and laughs. He bounces on his toes, then turns and runs down the block, a blur of speed that Sid's eyes can't follow. He's back, suddenly, grinning wider. "Wow, wow. I want lift something. Car?"

"Sure," Sid says. "Maybe inside, though?"

They gather around the van.

"It's kind of awkward," Sid says. "You can't pick the whole thing up because it's not balanced right."

Geno makes a disappointed face. He still bends his knees, grips the front of the van. Sid backs up a few hasty steps.

"Also, maybe don't grab--"

The bumper comes off in Geno's hands.

"--the bumper," Sid says.

They look at the piece of metal.

"Oh, shit, Olli's going to be so pissed," Sid says, but he's grinning.

Geno sets the bumper on the ground, mouth pressed flat like he's trying not to laugh. He eyes the van again, and this time makes sure he doesn't grab anything that's going come off. Then he lifts the front of the van, all the way up over his head, the van tipping back onto its back bumper. Geno holds it there for a moment, then lowers it carefully back down again.

He flexes his hands, rolls his shoulders as he turns around to face Sid again. Sid knows the van isn't heavy enough for him to even feel it. Geno could have flipped it over completely with no more effort than knocking over a chair in his own body. Geno shakes his head, his face amazed, impressed.

Then he moves, crossing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Sid takes a quick step back and hits the wall. Geno looks more startled than Sid, like he didn't mean to move that fast, and Sid almost laughs.

Geno inhales and his eyes drop to Sid's throat, and Sid doesn't feel like laughing anymore.

"Sid," Geno says. He meets Sid's eyes again, hesitating like he's not sure what he wants to say next. He finally settles on, "I always smell so good to you?"

Sid feels himself flush again. Geno smells human, without that prickle of magic that Flower and Duper carry, without the tang of iron of iron that Tanger and Daley have, without the musky scent of Kessel's bear form.

But it's not just that anymore, Sid thinks, it's the fact that it's Geno, familiar and sweet after all these years. He clears his throat. "Yeah."

Geno nods slowly. "Can I drink? From you?"

Sid feels a sharp little jolt of shock and want at the idea.

"I want know how it feel," Geno says, watching his face.

There isn't a good reason to say yes, and Geno would understand if he said no, if it was too personal to share. But deep down, Sid wants him to know, wants to show him this.

"Okay," Sid says.

Geno eyes go sharp and bright with anticipation.

"No biting," Sid says. Geno frowns, and Sid adds, "I don't want you to hurt, uh, yourself. This body."

Sid waits until Geno nods.

"Come on," Sid says, and leads Geno down to the infirmary.

Sid keeps it stocked for the kind of injuries they don't want to explain to an ER. He opens the supply cabinet and pulls out a sterile IV needle. He's wearing a t-shirt, so he doesn't have to roll his sleeves up. He washes his hands, scrubs the inside of his elbow with soap and water. He's amazingly conscious of the beat of his heart, just a little too fast, the quick rush of his breath, the tight coil of something that's almost excitement in the pit of his stomach. It's all such a human feeling.

Geno is standing by the door, watching his every movement, and Sid can feel his gaze like a physical touch.

Sid takes the needle packet and a packet of sterile gauze over to the exam table and hops up to sit on it. He opens and closes his fist a few times, taps the skin of his inner elbow. Geno's got good veins, at least. He rips open the wrapper of the needle, lines it up. He grits his teeth against the pinch of the needle as it goes in, then pulls it out.

A trickle of blood spills warmly down his arm. He can hear Geno's sharp inhale, but he can't smell the blood over the antiseptic smell of the room.

He looks up at Geno. "Well?"

Geno crosses the room in a heartbeat to stand in front of Sid. "You sure?" he asks.

"Yeah," Sid says.

Geno bends down and licks up the trickle of blood. Sid bites back a gasp. Geno doesn't know how to catch someone with his gaze and bring them into the feedback loop, so Sid wasn't expecting it to feel good. But the hot, velvet-wet drag of Geno's tongue on his skin sends a shiver down his spine.

Geno presses his mouth against the tiny wound on his arm, sucks at the skin, and Sid lets out a shaky breath.

Geno makes a deep, shocked noise in the back of his throat and sinks to his knees, and Sid feels a sudden irrational stab of envy over the fact that Geno is the one who gets to know what it's like to drink from this body.

Sid fed from Geno once, in an emergency, when he needed blood to heal himself. He doesn't remember it very well, just a vague impression of desperate hunger and pain, and the relief when it dulled. Geno still has the scars on his other arm, where Sid had been too careless with his bite.

(If Sid dreamed anymore, he thinks he would have nightmares about how he's pretty sure he wouldn't have stopped if Flower hadn't been there.)

Sid feels light-headed. He grips the edge of the exam table, but before he can say something, Geno lifts his head.

His mouth is smeared with blood, and his eyes are heavy, his face dazed, soft and open with the pleasure of it.

Sid feels a weird twist of embarrassment in his gut, to see his own face like that.

"That's enough," he says. He looks away, fumbles for the gauze.

Geno nods. "Wow," he says. It's slow and lazy and deeply satisfied, and it makes Sid's face go hot. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Sid says, concentrating on applying pressure with the gauze. "Could you get me some orange juice? And a granola bar?"

Geno eyes him for a moment like he's not sure he believes him, but then he does as Sid asked.

When he comes back, he's cleaned the blood off his face. He gives Sid a glass of juice, and a granola bar he's already opened. Then he goes to the cabinet to find a band aid and extra gauze.

Sid's mostly stopped bleeding now, and he drinks his juice while Geno bandages him up. Geno's fingers are warm on his skin, flush with new blood.

"It always like that?" Geno asks, eyes on his hands as he works.

"Usually," Sid says. "When I'm hurt or starving, it's less, um, good. Until I get enough."

Geno makes a thoughtful noise. He looks up and meets Sid's eyes. "Thank you," he says. "For let me."

Sid nods. The envy has disappeared now. Geno deserves to know what it's like, to know what he's offering. If he ever offers. But it still makes him feel exposed, vulnerable.

"I need, this body needs to rest," Sid says. "I'm gonna--"

"Sure," Geno says. Sid slides off the table, and for a second, before Geno steps back, it's weird to loom over him.

Sid goes to lie down in one of the spare bedrooms. He wasn't lying, Geno's body is exhausted from sleeping badly, from the blood loss, from the fight last night.

He closes his eyes and remembers the feeling of Geno's mouth on his skin. If it felt like that for Geno without the feedback loop, then...

Sleep mercifully cuts that line of thought off.

*

Sid wakes up in his own body, in his own bed. His body is perfectly still, no pulse, no breathing, no blood rushing in his veins. No mysterious aches and pains. It's comfortable, familiar. More than comfortable -- he can still feel the hum of Geno's blood in his body.

Sid gets out of bed and heads for the kitchen. There's someone else there, he can hear their heartbeat and movements all the way down the hall.

It's Flower.

Flower eyes him over his bowl of cereal when Sid comes in. "Sid?" he says, and it's not quite a question.

"Yeah," Sid says.

"Nice," Flower says. "We don't need that chicken after all."

"Have you seen Geno?"

"No," Flower says.

"I'm just gonna check on him." If Sid's back in his own body, then Geno's got to be back in his, but Sid just needs to be sure.

Flower nods, and Sid moves on to the extra bedrooms.

One's occupied. Sid can hear a heartbeat on the other side of the door, steady and not quite slow enough for sleep. He knocks.

"Come in," Geno calls.

Sid opens the door. Geno's sitting up in bed, phone in hand. Sid feels better as soon as he sees him.

"Everything okay?" Sid asks.

Geno makes a big show of looking down his body and then back at Sid. "You not break anything, so..."

Sid rolls his eyes like he's supposed to. He hesitates in the doorway for a moment longer, then goes in, letting the door close behind him.

"It wasn't so bad, right?" he asks. "Being a vampire."

Geno frowns, serious now. "No."

Sid sits down on the edge of Geno's bed. If he were human, his heart would be beating too fast, but as it is, the tightness in his throat is only mental. "So if, if -- something happened, would you let me turn you?"

Geno goes still. "Something -- like what?"

"Like if you got hurt," Sid says. He's trying not think about Geno being the one with his stomach clawed open, with a sword through his chest. "Hurt bad. And there wasn't any other way to save you. Could I turn you into a vampire like me?"

Geno exhales and leans back against the headboard. "Wow, Sid."

Sid grimaces and looks down at his hands. "I know it's a big decision, and you don't have to say anything now, I just -- I don't want to have to decide someday whether to let you die or turn you into something you'd hate."

"I don't hate you," Geno says.

Sid nods. Geno reaches out and puts his hand on Sid's knee, squeezes gently until Sid looks up at him.

"I don't hate what you are," Geno says carefully.

"Oh," Sid says, and it's easier to believe with Geno watching him like that, so serious and intent.

Geno takes his hand back and smiles. "I like sunshine, I like food," he says, "but I like not die more."

"So you'll let me?" Sid says.

"Yes. But only for emergency."

Sid swallows back the urge to thank him. "Right."

"Always emergency with you, though," Geno says, grinning wider.

"It is not!" Sid says, and they're still bickering about it when Flower comes to tell them someone's been turning pigeons to stone in the park.