Chapter Text
Darkness
Darkness surrounded them in the small room in the back of the Audi garage.
Their stints had ended around the same hour, with Oliver and Benoît behind the wheel at the moment. André felt his body aching for sleep, but the race was far from over, only just past the halfway point. Yet, he didn’t want to sleep. The thrill of the race, trying to keep up with the Porsches and the always looming technical gremlins kept him awake. André had glanced toward the other box in the garage. Well, the brunette that got out of car 8 had something to do with his refusal to sleep too.
André felt a pair of arms sneak around his middle. A hand pulled him closer until his back touched the man’s chest. The heat radiated through their fireproofs. The hand hovered down before cupping Andre’s boxers. A groan escaped the German: “Loïc, Schatz… Here?”
A small chuckle followed. The hot breath on André’s skin sent a shiver down his spine.
“Why not, mon amour. They think we’re sleeping anyway.”
André turned in Loïc’s grasp. “Maybe we should? Audi isn’t leading the race.”
The Frenchman let go of André with a sigh. “Always work with you. Take it easy, okay?”
The mood was gone as was the heat. André felt alone in the dark as he was unable to see Loïc. “You’ve won Le Mans already three times, you’ve nothing to prove!”
“Who says I do it to prove something?” Anger began to build in the pit of his stomach. “I do it for me! I’m the best at this, I deserve that win!”
“Does it mean that much to you?” Loïc’s voice was low. André barely caught the sentence.
“Of course, I only love this.” That wasn’t technically true. André loved his family, his dog, his car collection. He loved Loïc but hadn’t yet dared to say it. Probably never will tell him.
The German felt a hand being placed on his cheek. The heat returned as Loïc hovered inches from his lips. He leaned in, planning on stealing a kiss away, but Loïc kept him in place.
“André, keep still!” Unable to react, Loïc pressed his wrist against André's mouth. A thick liquid spilled past his lips. The metallic taste burned on his tongue as horror settled into his mind.
“Swallow it!” André did as he was told. Loïc let him go, causing the German to fall to his knees. Gasping for air, André was stuck rooted in place. He’d drunk blood, human blood.
“What’s wrong with you?”, he screamed, just above the roaring engines.
“Quiet!” Loïc lifted him off the floor, taking a steady hold of his throat. “Remember, mon amour, you asked for this.” André felt Loïc’s lips on his firmly. The Frenchman had never been this rough before. It seemed as if he was savoring something. “I’m so sorry.”
Snap!
Pain. A dull pain at his neck was what brought André back to the world of the living. Had he fallen asleep? He could’ve sworn he’d been together with Loïc. That name brought back past events. The German shot upright. Only now he noticed the two men in front of him.
“You fell in love with him, didn’t you?” Lucas? What was he doing here, he doesn't know about them, right?
“I don’t love him! He’s an overrated driver that barely achieved anything in his career.”
Loïc… No, he didn’t mean that. “I just don’t want him to be a helpless puppy around me now that he’s a vampire.” A vampire?
“I’m what?” The soft voice from behind surprised both. Shivering, André sat there, looking at the pair with big eyes.
“Loïc, Lucas? Where am I? What happened?”, he rambled, frantically going with a hand over his hair. “I’m not feeling so good.”
Loïc had gone white at the sight. André’s skin was a sickening, pale shade. The streak of blood on his chin made the image morbid. Lucas pushed past the Frenchman to kneel in front of the mess. “It’ll be okay, André. You just need to feed.”
“Feed?” André trailed his tongue over his lips. The metallic taste remained, but it felt different. It was delicious.
Lucas extended his hand toward his teammate. Loïc turned to the sole cabinet, before throwing a plastic bag in the Brazilian’s hand.
“This,” Lucas held the item in front of André’s face. “will make you feel so much better. Do you want it?” The smell overrode any other ability. André’s gaze fixed on the liquid. A sharp pain went through his gums, but it passed as quickly as it had appeared. Lucas smirked at the sight of two fangs sticking out. Dark veins began to form on André’s cheeks, pumping blood toward his eyes. The dark blue eyes became a shade of red, nearly resembling black. Lucas gave him the bag which André nearly ripped apart as his nails dug into the plastic. He brought it to his lips, sucking it dry. The aching pain he’d felt, the exhaustion of the race, it was all gone in an instant.
André looked at Loïc as he threw the empty bag to the ground. He got up, completely ignoring Lucas, as he stepped toward the Frenchman. “You,” André thought of everything he’d wanted to say to Loïc from the day he’d met him. From I love you to I hate you. He remained silent though as green locked with blue. Loïc had used him, had lied to him. He didn’t deserve another word from him.
Lucas stood next to André, giving him a towel. “Wipe your mouth.”
André did as he was told, the smears of blood strange against the white pattern. A thousand things went through his mind, but the word betrayal kept coming back to the front.
“Let’s go,” Lucas placed a hand on the back of André’s neck. “I’ve to teach you some things before you get back in the car.”
The Brazilian had walked towards the door, waiting for the German who hadn’t moved an inch. Loïc was the first to break eye contact, causing André to laugh dryly: “Coward.” The door slammed closed behind him
He’d never felt so alive in a car before. Everything felt heightened. The sound of the engine: he could hear every gear click, the groaning of each piece of metal. The course was more colorful, the sponsors on the slower GTE cars readable from an unimaginable distance. The speed seemed less, he could calculate every single move. Focus higher than ever, André pushed the pedal to the floor. Porsche was prey. Audi the hunter.
“Well done, André!”, his engineer came over the radio. “You just broke the lap record. Keep this up, but keep it clean.”
A smirk formed underneath his helmet. They were going to win this.
They didn’t win Le Mans. A bunch of rookies did. Frustrated André went to the back of the garage. Car 7 came in third, so he had to go on the podium. Fuck it! André made his way to the back of the box. Lucas had told him to always feed after a race and he chose to believe the vampire.
“Mister Lotterer?” The voice came from behind. A young fan stood there, holding out a cap. “You want to sign this, please?” The thick French accent of the girl gave away she was a local. André walked over and took the pen to scribble down his signature. As he took a hold of the cap, a soft thumping reached his ears. He ignored it, giving the signed cap back. He smiled at the woman, but his attention faltered as he spotted the origin of the sound. André could already taste the sweet blood as his eyes fixated on the pumping vein. His fangs tried to push their way through.
“You want me to show you the garage?”, he smiled at the young woman who nodded. He guided her with a hand toward the small room. “Why is it so small?”, she asked right before André launched himself at her. He gazed into her eyes, holding her steady by the shoulder. “Don’t say a word,” André whispered, before digging his fangs in the soft skin.
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Loneliness
Loïc got out of his LMP1 quickly, sprinting to the box to not interfere with the team. His stint was done, but he wished it wasn’t. As he took off his helmet, a low voice reached his ears. “Lotterer, now.”
Loïc knew what he had to do, but he didn’t want to. Lucas’ plan was smart, yes. André’s talent combined with the abilities of a vampire… He’d be unstoppable in every class. Yet, Loïc didn’t want to ruin the man’s life, at least not without consent.
“Duval!”, Lucas’ voice was sharp. “Hurry up!”
Loïc nodded, mentally preparing himself. He looked across the garage at André who smiled eagerly at him. Loïc’s heart ached.
Loïc stepped in after André and closed the door. His eyes adjusted rather quickly and he could clearly see the German standing with his back to him. He snuck a pair of arms around André’s middle, pulling him close against his chest. He let his hand go down the man’s abs, cupping the pair of boxers. A groan echoed through the room: “Loïc, Schatz… Here?”
Loïc didn’t want to fuck André during a race, but he had to play the part. He chuckled: “Why not, mon amour. They think we’re sleeping anyway.”
Loï felt André turn in his grasp. “Maybe we should? Audi isn’t leading the race.”
He mentioned the race. Good. “Always work with you. Take it easy, okay?” He feigned annoyance, pulling back from André.
“You’ve won Le Mans already three times, you’ve nothing to prove!” That wouldn’t go down well with the competitive German.
“Who says I do it to prove something? I do it for me! I’m the best at this, I deserve that win!”
Lucas had been right.
“Does it mean that much to you?” Loïc asked, already knowing the answer.
“Of course, I only love this.” That stung. Loïc had hoped André felt more for him, that they hadn’t just fucked.
The Frenchman took a hold of his cheek. He felt André lean in, but he kept him where he was. This needed to be done correctly. Loïc bit in the wrist of his left arm. He had to hurry or the wound would heal.
“André, keep still!” Loïc pressed his wrist against André’s mouth forcefully. André tried to get out of his grasp. He closed his eyes as he didn’t want to see the man’s face.
“Swallow it!” André did as he was told. Loïc let him go, causing the German to fall to his knees.
“What’s wrong with you?”, André screamed loudly, causing his ears to ring.
“Quiet!” Loïc lifted André off the floor. A steady hold on his throat. “Remember, mon amour, you asked for this.” This could be his last chance to have this André, his André. He was well aware that in a few moments hatred would be the only thing he'd receive from him. Loïc kissed him hard, trying to say through the kiss he never dared to exclaim out loud.
As he pulled back Loïc smiled sadly at his lover, before twisting his neck forcefully to the right. The snap echoed through the room, followed by the thud of André’s lifeless body hitting the ground.
The Frenchman switched the lights on, his eyes taking some time to adjust. The sight seemed oddly serene with the blood around André’s mouth.
“Merde, merde,” Loïc slowly began to panic after a few minutes. André should have woken up by now. “MERDE!”
The door behind him flew open, knocking the Frenchman forward. “Is it done?”
Loïc stared at his teammate who sealed off the room again. He was a bit out of it as emotions were running high.
“Yes, Lucas,” Loïc suddenly spat. “I’ve done your dirty work!”
The Brazilian smiled, showing off a pair of fangs. “Now, now,” he took a step forward, looking down at the Frenchman. “There’s no need to speak to me like that. We both agreed with Lotterer in top form, car 7 will catch up with the Porsches and win this race. He’ll owe us one, once he finds out all those new abilities that help in this sport.”
“He didn’t ask for this,” Loïc felt numb. "how could I've done this to André?"
Lucas narrowed his eyes at his teammate. “When I demanded you to get closer to Lotterer, I didn’t mean fucking around. You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”
Loïc shook his head. “I don’t love him! He’s an overrated driver that barely achieved anything in his career.” Lucas seemed satisfied with the answer, but it killed him to say it. “I just don’t want him to be a helpless puppy around me now that he’s a vampire.”
“I’m what?” The soft voice from behind surprised both. Shivering, André sat upright, looking at them with big eyes.
“Loïc, Lucas? Where am I? What happened?” Relief went through the Frenchman. André was awake. He only had to feed and the turning would be completed. André went with a hand through his hair. “I’m not feeling so good.”
Loïc felt Lucas brush against him. The Brazilian passed to kneel in front of the scared newborn.
“It’ll be okay, André. You just need to feed.”
“Feed?” André’s voice was a note higher than usual. Loïc knew how he was feeling. He’d gone through the same process a few years ago. The day that Lucas had turned him, made him realize how lonely he really was. Lucas had abandoned him after the race, left Loïc to his own thoughts and he’d hit a low point after a week. He’d gone on a killing spree and nearly killed his mechanics.
André’s strong mind should refrain him from doing the same, but now that Loïc saw him sitting there, he wasn’t so sure anymore.
Lucas extended his hand toward his teammate. He wanted a bag from their stock. All kinds of blood types were stored safely in a small fridge behind their spare clothing and helmets. Loïc turned to the sole cabinet, before throwing a plastic bag in the Brazilian’s hand.
“This,” Lucas held the item in front of André’s face. “will make you feel so much better. Do you want it?”
Lucas was making it a bit theatrical and it was frustrating Loïc to no end. Dark veins began to form on André’s cheeks, pumping blood toward his eyes. The dark blue eyes became a shade of red, nearly resembling black. Lucas gave him the bag, which André nearly ripped apart as his nails dug into the plastic. Loïc felt sickened by the sight. He loved André, but he looked like a monster right now, like him. He never wished this upon the German.
André’s gaze fell on Loïc’s face as he threw the empty bag to the ground. He got up, completely ignoring Lucas, as he stepped toward the Frenchman. “You.” Loïc had expected this reaction. He hadn’t exactly thanked Lucas when he turned him. Loïc wished he’d done a few laps more so he wouldn’t have the break at the same time as André. This wouldn’t have happened then.
Lucas stood next to André, giving him a towel. “Wipe your mouth.”
André did as he was told. Loïc was seeing the changes in the newborn already. His skin had a certain glow, his eyes the darkest blue Loïc had ever laid his eyes upon. He looked handsome.
“Let’s go,” Lucas’ words shook Loïc out of his referee. “I’ve to teach you some things before you get back in the car.”
The Brazilian had walked towards the door, but André remained behind as if he was waiting for Loïc to speak up and explain why he did this. Shame was eating the Frenchman alive and he had to break eye contact. André laughed dryly: “Coward.” The door slammed closed, leaving Loïc alone in the dark.
Loïc had watched the screens carefully during André’s stint. He noticed that his speed had increased. He was also taking more risks, that could endanger any of the other drivers. Loïc’s breath was stuck in his throat as he saw the Audi 7 drift on the grass, barely avoiding the barrier. André had always been a very talented driver. He drove better than Lucas and himself without any extra help. With the abilities and focus of a newly born, he was unbeatable. In the end, it didn’t matter. The Porsche 19, driven by three rookies for Godssake, was too far ahead and they came in third. Loïc knew with heightened emotions, André would be destroyed by this defeat after a winning streak. The German was prone to take a loss badly. Loïc set out to find him before he might do something he’d regret.
Going to the back of the garage toward the paddock, Loïc heard something. Two voices, one slightly scared, the other very familiar.
“Merde!” Sprinting toward the sound, Loïc opened the door to the small chamber, he’d been in mere hours ago.
“André?” He knew he should have kept a closer eye on him. Something like this could have been avoidable. “André, please let her go.”
The German let the girl go, her body falling on the ground with a thud. André turned around to take in the intruder. Loïc had expected fear to radiate off the vampire. Yet, he only saw arrogance.
“Duval,” André seemed unimpressed, cleaning his mouth with the sleeve of his overalls. “what’s it now?” The smears of blood were in stark contrast to his pale skin.
“Is she dead?”, the Frenchman ignored the snide. He listened intently, catching a slow heartbeat. Thank God.
André rolled his eyes. “No, she isn’t. I know when to stop so chill.”
That sounded odd for a newborn to Loïc. He had been a true ripper when Lucas turned him, feeding on every being that crossed his path when he was in a foul mood. “H-how?”, he stuttered as André suddenly stood next to him.
“How?”, the German repeated with a smirk, fangs visible. “It’s easy. Look at me, I’m not the smallest guy so I had to refrain myself from eating too much for years. It came naturally I guess.”
Loïc must have been staring. André angled his head slightly to the right, narrowing his eyes at the Frenchman. “You’re one of the weak ones. Lucas said there weren’t many like me, but I didn’t expect he turned me to cover up the failure you are.”
Loïc felt his heart drop. This André wasn’t his André. That man died a few hours ago.
The door behind them opened revealing Lucas. “What’s this?”
Dark eyes scanned the room before landing on André. “I thought we agreed on only blood bags!”
“Those are for the weak. For you two.”, André winked at Loïc before pushing past him to halt in front of Lucas. “Turning me was a big mistake if you really thought I’d become a loyal, helpless puppy doing your dirty work.”
A chill seemed to go through the room. André smiled at the Brazilian before leaving, giving the pair the room to clean up his mess.
______________________________________________________________
Pain
Toro Rosso sacked him. Ferrari gave him a role which was more publicity for them than anything else. Andretti wanted him in Formula E. He had to take the seat otherwise he’d have no income for 2015. He didn’t want it though. FE was below him! He was an F1 driver for Godssake, a good one even! Why didn’t RedBull do what they promised him and his family when he entered their Young Drivers Program?
He had nearly starved himself to death to be faster, to get those extra tenths. What did they do? Nothing! They’d left him in a hospital to pay his own bills.
He should hate the sport, but he didn’t. If they’d come knocking, he’d have said yes before even opening the door. Jean-Eric hated himself for that.
He sat in his apartment in London, scrolling on his tablet as he noticed the time. Le Mans was about to end. He quickly grabbed the TV remote, turning on SKY Sport. A few minutes left and surprisingly Porsche 19 was first. Nico Hulkenberg was first. A tall F1 driver won Le Mans on his debut. Damn that hurt.
Jean-Eric’s gaze landed upon the apple he was eating. So much sugar… He quickly got up, throwing it in the bin ignoring his grumbling stomach. He wasn’t hungry anyway.
As he focused on the race again, he became aware of last year’s winners being third.
He didn’t know the drivers personally. Well, not exactly. He had met Lotterer at the 2014 Belgian Grand Prix, but he didn’t have the balls to say more than good luck. The guy had achieved so much in his career, more than him and he didn’t want to bother the older driver.
He is hot, though. Jean-Eric shook his head firmly, trying to get rid of the thought.
Like someone like Lotterer could ever fall for him. He was weak, didn’t have the talent of a real champion. He’d probably never have.
As the cars crossed the line, the teams celebrating their victories, Jean-Eric shut off the TV. He’d seen enough.
Jean-Eric couldn’t sleep. He felt restless, like the past few months since he was dropped. Sometimes he wished, he hadn’t begun karting. He would have never felt the pain of losing out, of being alone, of being in the dark. He didn’t want this anymore.
A tear rolled down his cheek as he buried his head into the pillow wishing for dreams filled with happiness, love, and light.