Ethan grimaced as he slunk out of the taxi, which sped off as soon as he pressed cash into the driver's hand. His stomach was wracked with hunger pains, which had grown too strong, too sharp and too frequent to ignore, so he was out to hunt for something to 'eat'.

  Today, Elysium, a mid-sized hipster bar in Brooklyn, was his hunting ground for tonight. He had an in with one of the bouncers, who let him skip the line. Ethan quickly approached the bar, ordering a vodka and coke (cheap and effective) as he scanned the club. Elysium seemed to be full of mages and Vampires, with the odd fairy or confused human, who’d likely be Ethan's or someone else's dinner by the end of the night. The bar was a bit away from the dance floor, so the music wasn't blaring, giving Ethan space to collect his thoughts.

  The club was over-saturated with non-humans, which meant finding and holding onto a meal would be... difficult.

  "Ugh," Ethan groaned as he tossed back his drink, dropped some change, and got up, deciding to cut his losses and find a different bar.

  "Leaving already?" Ethan looked back at the bar, then about half a foot down to a mass of black curls, the biggest pair of eyes he'd ever seen staring up at him, golden brown and bright even in the dim light of the club and a smattering of feckles.

  Ethan paused, scanning them (him? her?) for a second, before leaning back against the bar with a sly grin. He caught their scent; Human.

  "I was, but I could be convinced to stay." Ethan quipped as he took his seat again.

  "Would a drink be convincing enough?" They asked, sweeping a curl out of their face. It promptly fell back in place.

  "It's definitely a start."

  "Great," They flagged down the bartender, who seemed to already know them, and ordered another vodka and coke (top shelf stuff this time) for Ethan and a colourful drink for themself. Then they turned back Ethan and smiled brightly, showing of the dimple in their left cheek. "Name's Ashley. You?"

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  Ashley? Ethan was hoping their name would give some kind of hint about their gender, but he'd figure it out another way. None of their clothes, pants, a pair of boots, and a floral blouse, were heavily gendered. They wore a jagged twisted gold and silver piercing in one ear, mostly hidden by hair, but everyone has piercings now.

  He could just ask, but that would be no fun.

  "Ethan."

  "Well, Ethan what're you looking for tonight?"

  ?...??

  Ethan never did get around to asking Ashley their gender, so he found out the old fashion way: pressed up against him in a taxi with a hand down his pants.

  Ashley squeaked as Ethan wrapped his hand around him. "You're so… impatient," Ashley moaned into Ethan's neck between hasty, shuddering breaths.

  Ethan was very, very glad the window between them and the front was completely tinted. "Can you blame me? Look at you." He said, pulling back to gaze at Ashley again.

  Ethan had unbuttoned Ashley's shirt, exposing his chest. Just like Ethan suspected, his freckles, which covered his face and shoulders, ran down his chest and, presumably, under his boxers. His lips, full and slightly parted from catching his breath, morphed into a smile at Ethan's words.

  "Flattery will get you everywhere. Let me," Ashley reached for Ethan's belt, but he grabbed his hand.

  "We're almost at my place. I just wanted to touch you." Thankfully, Ethan's apartment was only ten minutes from the bar, so they didn't need to wait too long.

  Ashley grumbled but pulled back.

  "Now, who's the impatient one?" Ethan teased. Ashley's response was quickly swallowed up as Ethan pulled him closer for another kiss, tightened his grip and slid his palm down against Ashley's dick.

  ...

  Ethan watched Ashley struggle to stay awake in his thoroughly rumpled sheets. He was lovely like this, hair even more of a mess, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion and honey brown skin flushed. Ethan wished he could leave him like this, but the hunger pangs in his stomach were becoming more and more intense.

  Ethan pulled Ashley closer, which prompted Ashley to grumble.

  "Again? Maybe in the morning. I'm still sore," he said, as Ethan kissed his neck, tracing the hickeys he'd given him. Despite his words, he leaned into Ethan's touch. "Impatient and greedy. I..."

  Ashley's words trailed off as Ethan began to drink from him, not his blood but his memories.

  Ethan fed on bad unpleasant memories, on trauma, which usually tasted as bitter or sour as expected. They were also typically tough to draw out because people are terrible at letting go of memories, even the bad ones.

  None of that seemed to apply to Ashley, whose memories tasted sweet in spite of their contents, he seemed unconsciously eager to give them up. It made it tempting to drink a little deeper, a little longer, but before Ethan could properly consider that, the sharp and ice-cold touch of a blade against his neck broke his trance.