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The Semi-Detached of Old Nobles

Summary:

Renat's parents drop in for a visit. Teodor ensues.

Notes:

I REGRET NOTHING.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It took less that two weeks for Teodor's things to migrate into Renat's house, and for the contract on the little cottage to be closed. Renat stared at the bags of blood stacked in his refrigerator for the tenth time that day. Every single one was marked BIOHAZARD FOR DISPOSAL. He closed the door and stared at the wall, wondering what in blazing fuck happened to his life.

From the sitting room came Teodor's lunatic laughter. "My dear, come and look at this cat! He is Mr. Waffles, and he is so very funny! He looks like you, with your beautiful hair."

Sometimes, Renat agreed with his mum. He really did have terrible taste in men.

Teodor was actually an improvement.

Renat took his glasses from his shirt pocket and went to see what his vampire boyfriend was giggling about.

Teodor had long since taken over Renat's small corner desk, which meant Renat did his writing on the couch. In exchange, he got tea every time Teodor wanted a fresh pot, at least once an hour. His own small laptop sat on the floor, open to his final revisions on The Fallen Prince (thank God), though Teodor's massive Alienware desktop and monitor, brought from Romania for a bloody walking holiday, covered a good chunk of the desk. His headset lay next to Renat's good teapot and a mostly empty mug, which meant he was taking a break from swearing in four languages at Call of Duty. On the screen, a fluffy white cat meowed.

Renat put his arms around Teodor's shoulders and rested his chin on his head. Teodor refused to wear a shirt indoors, or in the garden, or to the cornershop, or much of anywhere that would not kick him out on sight. How he had survived 926 years of sunlight, Renat could not fathom.

At least he was cute.

The doorbell rang. Renat kissed Teodor's head--Teodor tipped his head for a proper one, and got it--and Renat went to the door. Maybe it was a good night to order in. Pizza sounded nice.

"D'you want pizza tonight?" he called, and opened the door.

"Rennie!"

Renat froze.

His dad grinned and hugged him, and pushed inside. "Dave rang! He said you've got a bloke!"

"Excuse your father, love." Mum pulled Renat down to kiss his cheek. "We decided to drive to Glasgow for a few days, thought it was rude not to drop in. Sorry it's late. We'll find a room in Ely for tonight, if you don't want the bother."

"You can stay. A Dave rang? Which Dave? How did they get your number?"

"Bloody Stupid. We've been chatting on Facebook, or whatever it's called now. Oh, he's such a dear! Oh!" Mum put her hand to her chest. "Oh! Are you Teodor? Goodness! Moved in already, have we? Where is your shirt, dear? Did we interrupt something?"

"My friends! My in-laws! Welcome!" Teodor threw his arms wide and hugged Dad, and kissed his cheeks. Renat gripped his face. "I am Teodor! Teodor Zugravescu, of Bucharest. Nominally, at the moment. We will see how everything goes, yes?"

"Oh, my God." Renat shook his head, still gripping his face. "You couldn't have rung, Mum?"

(Oh, God, the fridge. Don't let them look in the fridge.)

"That's a lot of freckles," Dad said. "Makes me want a pen."

"Dad, don't play connect-the-dots on my boyfriend."

"Why not?" Teodor said. Renat looked up to find him craning his neck to see over his own shoulder. "Am I not deserving of constellations, my darling?"

"Why are there no pictures up in here?" Mum said, looking around at the walls. "It's like a bloody castle. Makes me expect a vampire to pop out any moment."

"Please don't talk about vampires, Mum?"

She gave him a funny look and went to hug Teodor, who kissed her cheeks as he had Dad. "Marina and Denis Grigorovich. Call us Mary and Den."

"Oh! You use the patronymics! Renat, my dear, why did you not tell me? I do miss the old ways sometimes, though the Internet is wonderful."

"You're chatty," Dad said. "Better than that last one. Who was he? Ryan?"

"George, Dad. You never even met him."

"Sure, we have. On Facebook."

"Wait, what?"

"Come! To the kitchen!" Teodor motioned with both arms. "I will make tea!"

"I would love a cuppa." Mum set her purse on the floor and took off her sandals. "Your father, Ren, your father's driving will lead me to drink. I'm only glad you haven't got a license."

"I can't bloody see, Mum!"

"No need to take it out on me! Goodness. Teodor, teach him some manners, would you? We tried so hard, but he's impossible."

Teodor put his hand to his heart and bowed. "You have my word, my lady. By the way, I see where your son gets his fine looks. You are most lovely!"

Mum giggled. "Bit of a knicker dropper, is he?" Dad said. Renat groaned.

It struck him that Teodor was wearing palm tree-print shorts. Knee length, small mercies. Still no knicker lines.

He did not need that image with his parents in the house. Especially if they were staying overnight.

Teodor was already filling the kettle when Renat and Dad got to the kitchen. Mum, fussing as usual, looked for the tea things. She opened the fridge---

"Stop!" Renat put his hand out, but it was too late.

Mum closed the fridge. Looked up. Turned to Renat.

"Teodor, love, could I have a moment with my son? The bloody method writer."

"What?" Teodor looked around. "Oh, the refrigerator! No, no, no, no, no, it is all right. Those are for both of us. Usually, I prefer a rare steak."

"What's going on?" Dad went to the fridge. Renat pulled his face into the neck of his shirt. "Oh, my God, my son has finally lost it. I knew we should have made him stay at uni."

"Renat!" Mum pointed to the fridge. "You take those straight back where you found them! Oh, I will take you over my knee, young man---"

"I'm in my bloody forties! You can't take me over anything!"

"I survived Woodstock with your father. I can do anything I put my mind to!"

"I really ought to have listened about the brown acid." Dad sighed. Teodor patted his shoulder.

"I know what you mean. It took hours to come down from the terrible stuff. Oh, the things I saw! The things I took! Oh, the vodka. I still don't think that was only vodka."

"How were you at Woodstock?" Renat said. "You lived in the Soviet Bloc!"

"How did a child get into Woodstock?" Dad rubbed his nose so hard his ponytail bounced.

"I had a parasol."

"Mary, love, are you sure those brownies last night were from Joey? I think they're having an effect."

Mum folded her arms and tapped her bare foot. For someone barely a metre and a half tall, she seemed to tower over all of them. "Renat, what's going on here?"

"Nothing, Mum."

"I might have turned your son into a vampire. I am very sorry. Please do not blame him. He is very dear to me."

Mum sat at the wobbly table. She picked up the sugar bowl and tipped it into her mouth. She stared at nothing as she chewed.

"Oh, no," Dad said. "It's the Chris Lee thing all over again. You haven't put the Hammer posters back up, have you, son?"

"Renat, dear," Mum said, "we need to have a talk about your taste in men. Why couldn't you have stayed with Robbie? He was such a nice lad."

"He was convicted for murder. I had to testify!"

"At least he didn't keep blood in the fridge!"

Renat sighed. He waited until his parents were both staring in greater disappointment than the day he said he was leaving uni to work at the Boots on the corner. Unable to really look at them, he curled his upper lip and dropped his fangs, which as ever felt like a terrible flossing accident.

"They have come in so beautifully," Teodor said. "You are ever so handsome, my darling. More handsome every day I look at you. I am so happy you have not got the brain scramblies."

"Is this a joke?" Mum got up and yanked Renat down to peer into his mouth. "Where's the wire?" She wiggled his fang, or tried to. "Eugh, how've you got these stuck in here?"

"Mum," he said, though it came out more like, "Mughn."

"That's a nice effect," Dad said. The kettle boiled, and Teodor hurried to warm the spare teapot under the tap. "How much you pay for those?"

"You're albino," Mum said. "Not a bloody vampire!"

"At least it's not HIV!"

"Forgive me, I am clumsy. I have the awkward teeth. And he is so very delicious."

"Oh, God, not in front of my parents."

"I thought it was bad when you were dating those two nice goth lads." Mum shook her head. "Did you know they got married? Lovely ceremony. All in black, of course. Your father had to rent a suit."

"Raj and Peter got--hang on, you went to their wedding?"

"Of course we did! You might not have got on with them, but they're lovely chaps. Even have a chihuahua together. They call him Bat. He carried the rings on his collar."

"Why are you speaking to my exes?"

"I did not know you were into goth, my dear." Teodor looked smug. "I do look very nice in black. And leather."

"Oh, my God! My parents are right here!"

"Which still hasn't answered what you've done to your teeth!" Mum tried to peer into Renat's mouth once more. He went on his toes to get away. "Show me your mouth this instant! When was the last time you saw a dentist?"

The thought of going out in the sun until he burst into flames was quite pleasant, really. His editor would kill whatever was left, as would his agent, but still. But still.

"Mum, please sit down." Renat leaned against the wall. The kettle boiled again, and Teodor dumped it into the pot. "I swear, it's not a joke. Teodor, love, show them your teeth, would you?"

"Oh, my dear. Anything for you." Teodor opened his mouth, and his fangs slid from his gums. It might have been creepy if Renat had not grown up on old horror movies (and wanked himself senseless to half of them). He squirmed against a sudden wish they were alone. "Yu hee?" Teodor said, his mouth wide. "I an a anpiugh. I an muck ohdah dah I luhk."

"Say that again, dear?" Mum said.

Teodor put his fangs back. "I am a vampire. I am much older than I look. Please, I cannot help it. I do not wish to die when your son is so very delectable."

"How old are you?" Dad said. "I mean, he's always been into older men. We found that out the hard way."

"I was eighteen!"

"And that bloke we chased off the couch had to be forty!"

"I was tutoring him! He was an ESOL student at uni!"

"I've not seen tutoring like that in a while," Mum said. "Last I knew, it required shirts."

Teodor put his hand to his chest and hunched into himself. Mum patted his other hand. "Not you, love. Though, now I think, how old are you?"

"I have been a vampire for 878 years."

"You said you were 926."

"What, you think I am becoming a vampire right from my mother? Are you a vampire for forty-three years?"

"Forty-two. I've got two weeks yet."

"Rennie, love, you know you were two weeks late. Let him have this one."

"Mum."

"Close your pointy mouth, young man! You are not the one who put up with you playing World Cup on my kidneys for nine and a half months! Your granddad was heartbroken when you tried to kick a football and got yourself in the face."

"I think I've got that on video," Dad said. "I really ought to upload it."

Teodor gasped. "May I help? I have extensive knowledge of the YouTube! I will make him marvellous!"

"Have I got to break up with you?"

Teodor winced. Renat sighed and went to hug and kiss him. "I'm not breaking up with you. You're a disaster, but you're my disaster."

"Bless." Dad poured himself a cuppa. "Oh, hell. Mary, could you fetch the milk? I'm not sure I want to look in there again."

Renat got it. Maybe he ought to buy a mini-fridge for the blood. The Daves (and Jayesh) came over sometimes, and it might be nice to avoid the vampire conversation. Again.

"So." Mum fixed her own cup and took a sip. "My only child is a vampire."

"Mum, let's not have the gay conversation again."

"Well, how likely is it you'd come out bleached, gay, and fanged?"

"You're a triple threat," Dad said. "That's what they call it in the theatre, innit?"

"I don't know. I never did theatre."

"I did a passion play in 1296," Teodor said. "The sun, it burned me. And the cross was very heavy."

"I thought you lot couldn't handle crosses." Dad picked up his mug. "Though I didn't expect you to drink tea, either."

"Apart from the blood, the sun, and the living forever, it is not so different from being alive. And there is the Internet. I enjoy pwning the noobs on the Call of Duty."

"That's nice. See, Rennie? It won't be so bad."

"You two were just shouting at me over this."

Dad shrugged and drank his tea.

"You'll have plenty of time for your books," Mum said. "Aw, your first story. Remember the one about the happy vampire family? You wrote it for school. Your teacher called a meeting."

"I would like to read that! Have you got a copy? Please, my lovely mother-in-law, tell me you have a copy. I will beg."

"It's in the attic. I'll scan it when we get home. Ren's got my email. Send me a message tonight. We'll chat."

Teodor squealed and hugged her. He kissed her cheek with a smack. "Thank you, my dear mother! Oh, I have not a mother or a father in so very long. My father, he died of axes. My mother died of different axes."

"I'm sorry," Dad said. "Axes. I hope to go in bed."

"You want to do everything in bed," Mum said, and Renat groaned. He sat next to Teodor, who squeezed his hand. "So, Teodor, what do you do? Besides, what was it? Pun news? Is that on Romanian telly?"

"He pwns the noobs, Mum. You wouldn't understand."

"I am an independent gentleman."

"He's the Duke of Transylvania. Has a castle. There's not much to it, pile of rocks. I think there's maybe a dungeon somewhere."

"And I own four percent of Microsoft."

"Wait, what?"

"Two of Apple."

"Oh, Apple!" Dad grinned and lifted his tea. "Me dad left us some of their stock. Bought it on a bet in 1981. Mum had his head on a plate, let me tell you."

"You own four fucking percent of Microsoft?" Renat took out his phone to look up the company's value. "You didn't think that was worth mentioning?"

"Bill and I exchange Christmas cards. It is not a big deal."

Renat did some maths. His head swam. "Thirteen million million pounds. You have thirteen million million pounds."

"... and Apple. And what I have invested over the centuries. It is not so much. My accounts, they are mostly Swiss."

"Teodor, we are going out and buying a Lamborghini."

"You can't drive, my dear. And I have no license."

"We are getting you a license and a Lamborghini."

"Why so ostentatious, my darling? What have we got to prove? You are so dear, but sometimes, you are very stupid. Look at who you are dating!"

"I'm dating a bloody billionaire with a shirt allergy. What's next? Are you Father Christmas, too?"

"Ooh, Christmas ought to be nice," Mum said. "No Lambo for your father, dear. He'd only drive it."

Renat put his chin on the wobbly table. He stared at the teapot. "And to think, I was happy for the cash to get out of London."

"It was much more interesting during the Plague, my dear. You are not missing so much."

"Are we still on for Tenerife?" Dad said. "We've already booked the tickets. D'you want to come along, Teodor? Might be a bit bright for you. I s'pose you can stay in with Ren. Find something to do."

"Dad, we just started dating."

"And it's pretty clear he's moved in. He's already made you a vampire. That's good as married, far as I see."

Renat wrapped his arms around his head. "It's been two weeks! You're worse than the Daves!"

"Oh, would they like to come?"

"I did not intend to make him a vampire. It was a happy accident."

"Well, maybe it all happened for a reason." Mum patted Teodor's arm. "Goodness, might be easier to move you both to Bucharest, what with all that Brexit nonsense. Rennie, my love, how's your Russian? It can't be that different from Romanian."

"They're not even the same language family, Mum."

"I will teach you, my dear. It's not so difficult."

Renat looked at Teodor. "Otvali."

Teodor burst out laughing, as did Dad. Mum said, "Watch your mouth, young man!"

"I said otvali, not ot'yebis!"

She slapped his hand. "Language!"

"Goodness, I'm a bit peckish." Dad looked at his watch. "What say we take you boys to supper? You've got me dribbling for a rare steak."

"Not you too, Denny."

Dad grinned. "Come on, wouldn't be so bad. I mean, living forever might be fun. Our stocks could mature."

"Unlike you." Mum shook her head. "Teodor, dear, be warned, he takes after his dad."

"I am not an ageing hippie, Mother."

"You were conceived at a Grateful Dead concert," Dad said.

"That was wonderful show." Mum smiled and sipped her tea. "New York is a lovely state."

Renat's eye twitched. "I was what?"

"We never told you that story?" Dad leaned back in his terrible IKEA chair. "Oh, goodness, your mum had such a wide-on for Jerry Garcia. If I hadn't taken her to the toilets, he'd have probably been your dad."

"So romantic!" Teodor leaned on his elbows. "You are such a sweet couple. Love is so very beautiful!"

"I think I need a lie-down," Renat said. Standing in the sun sounded better and better all the time.

"My dear!" Teodor kissed his cheek and snuggled against him. "You must relax! It is only natural. People love, they are together, they are happy. Are we not happy?"

"His dad really is brilliant in the sack," Mum said. "It's one reason I've put up with him all these years."

"Your son does take after his father, then."

"Someone kill me, please."

"We could use a chair leg," Dad said. "Does staking work, or is that only in the movies? I suppose it works on people, too. Hang on, that's a bit offensive. You're people. Humans? Living? I don't know what to call us. The unfanged? Is that all right?"

"Why a wooden steak when a rare steak is so much tastier, my dear prince? You wish to leave me so soon?"

"I want to not know my father is good in bed. Oh, God."

"Prince?" Dad lifted his eyebrows. "Oh, he told you about the Romanovs! Yeah, that was my great grandmum, slagging her way through the royal house. She had the first Denis. Denis Romanovovich, he went by. Supposedly, he was Nick the Second's. I've got a picture somewhere. Looked just like this one, right down to the long hair. Bit more colour to him."

"Dad, your hair is longer than mine."

Dad shrugged. "Runs in the family."

"There is nothing wrong with slagging one's way through royal houses." Teodor smirked. "It has kept me busy for centuries. It seems I am still at it. I am terrible." He pecked Renat's cheek. "My dear prince."

"You never did Dracula, did you?" Dad said, and Renat groaned.

"Dad, really, don't ask things like that if you don't want the answer."

"Oh, he did! What's it like with a vampire? Was Lizzie Bathory really one?"

"Women are not so much to my taste. I was very drunk."

"Wow. Sounds like you've got some stories to tell. You ought to write them with this one."

Teodor gasped. "I have not written a story since 1784! That was a very hot story. About a werewolf and a stable boy. It was banned in many countries."

"What is it with you and stable boys?" Renat said.

Teodor shrugged. "Write what you know, yes?"

Renat blinked. He laughed, and laughed harder, until he had to put his forehead on the table. "You are so ridiculous."

"Look at that," Dad said. "Isn't young love grand?"

"Not so young, dear. He's older than we are. I really ought to have known something like this would happen. At least Renat's not a groupie again."

"I am very good upon the balalaika. I was something of a rock star for a time. Ivan the Terrible, he did not like the music. My band did not survive."

Renat shook his head, still on the table. Ivan the Terrible. Vlad Tepes. Countess bloody Bathory. He had finally found a keeper, and it was bloody Teodor Zugravescu. A fucking vampire. Who owned four percent of Microsoft. If even his parents could get over the vampire thing, Renat was willing to try the long haul. The very long haul. The very, very long haul.

And, if worse came to worst, well, he had an awfully long career ahead of him.

Notes:

IT GOT WORSE.

I'm supposed to be writing an original vampire romance right now. Instead, I'm doing this. It's good practise, I guess.

If you notice that I switch between American and UK spellings, that's because I use one for everyday life and the other for fiction. It's going to be hell when I write something set in the US at some point. At least my word processor can tell me when I get them mixed up.

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