csi_sanders1129 | Fic: Time Is On My Side

Title: Time Is On My Side
Chapters: 1/?
Author:

csi_sanders1129
Genre: AU. Drama. Romance.
Ratings: T, for now.
Word Count: ~1700
Pairings/Characters: Ryan/Sergey.
Synopsis: The Penn State campus is eerily silent, mostly dark, and nearly abandoned, but for the two lone figures on opposite ends of the campus. One is unaware of the other’s presence, but the obliviousness is not mutual.
Comments: For the

prs_fansmonthly challenge - this month being an AU fic. Much thanks to

cynic_ficbecause she's awesome and without her none of my fic would get anywhere. <3 Any and all recognizable names in this work of fiction are not mine. The PS crew elong solely to themselves. I'm just playing with them. Enjoy! Chapter 2 will be up soon.

The Penn State campus is eerily silent, mostly dark, and nearly abandoned, but for the two lone figures on opposite ends of the campus. One is unaware of the other’s presence, but the obliviousness is not mutual.

Cloaked in a black pea-coat, Ryan Buell lurks in the shadows of a building across the Quad, watching his classmate draw nearer. The younger man is not paying attention to his surroundings. He’s got his head bent over a digital camera, and a heavy backpack slung casually over his shoulder. An easy target if ever one did exist.

“You should really watch where you’re going.” Ryan warns, when the unknowing subject of his intense scrutiny is within earshot. “You never know just whose wandering around out here this late.”

Sergey Poberezhny, to his credit, does not, in fact, drop his ridiculously expensive camera as a result of the unexpected voice. Which is a very good thing – it cost him an obscene amount of money and the thing is only a month old. He does startle rather violently, and he does nearly lose his footing on the somewhat icy sidewalks. “You scared me.” He sighs, when he sees a familiar face. “Ryan, right?” The guy is in one of his night classes.

Ryan extricates himself from the shadows, pushes off the wall and stops just in front of the other man. “Yeah. Ryan Buell,” He offers a hand.

“Sergey.” The younger answers, and accepts. It’s cold out. He thinks nothing of the icy touch of his classmates fingers on his wrist. Gloves wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“What’re you doing out here anyway? No one’s out and about tonight, not with the ‘blizzard of the century’ that the news is reporting coming soon.” Classes were cancelled for the day with all the buzz the weather reports were causing, even before a single snowflake had fallen.

Sergey shrugs. “I had to do some last minute research for a project. I have a paper due by email in the morning. Snow storm isn’t disrupting that one.” He laments sadly, his friends are all joining up tonight for an impromptu get together and he’s going to be at home writing this annoying paper. “You?”

“Just taking a walk.” He lies. He’s been watching Sergey for the better part of a week, but that’s not something he’s about to admit aloud.

The younger boy nods, and happens to catch sight of his watch. “Oh, I have to go get started on this if I want to do anything other than stare at a blinking computer cursor for the rest of the night. It was nice meeting you, though.” He says with an honest smile.

Ryan doesn’t even get out a reply to the hurried excuse. Sergey shifts his weight and takes one step and then all semblances of balance are somehow lost. Ryan’s quick reflexes manage to catch the pricey camera he noticed Sergey cautiously protecting before, but Sergey himself goes down.

“Shit, are you okay?” Ryan asks, as he stares down at Sergey.

“Owwww.” Sergey groans, eyes closed, and rests his head on the icy cold sidewalk for just a second before he even dares to move again. The fall knocked the wind out of him, and there is a significantly worsening pain in his ankle that is surely going to be problematic. He opens his eyes to see Ryan hovering over him with the camera in hand. “Oh, good. You saved it. I think I might love you for that.” He laughs, and accepts the hand that Ryan offers him again.

Ryan doesn’t answer. He can’t.

“Damn it.” Sergey curses, hopping slightly to inspect the injured ankle. It’s swelling already, and there’s a bit of a graze from the cement. “Leave it to me to injure myself while standing still.” He rolls his eyes at himself, shakes his head.

Ryan’s still quiet, and Sergey tries to break the awkward silence.

“You should come over sometime. Hang out.” He can’t remember ever seeing this stranger with anyone before or after class. Maybe he doesn’t have many friends. He tells Ryan the address to his off campus apartment. “Drop by anytime. And, really, man. Thanks for saving my camera.”

“No problem.” He forces himself to answer, and he hands the camera back to its owner. “Can you get home okay?” He asks through a deep breath. Sergey nods, and Ryan walks away with the faint scent of Sergey’s blood overwhelming his senses.

***

Sergey ends up relaxing on the couch in his off campus apartment. His two roommates, Heather and Katrina, are both out at some other friend’s party, where they will be staying indefinitely if the weather has any say at all in it. The snow has hit, and it’s already coming down hard and fast.

“Stupid icy sidewalks. Stupid projects. Stupid snow.” He complains, not for the first time since he got home. He has his significantly swollen ankle propped up on a pillow and covered in ice for the time being. His laptop is open on his lap and he’s finished and sent off his paper by the time he dozes off at three a.m.

He wakes abruptly just over an hour later with the feeling that he’s being watched. The lights are off, which he doesn’t remember doing at all, but he’s more concerned with the fact that he is unfathomably cold.

“Hello?” He calls out, to mollify his paranoia. As expected, he gets no response, and he scolds himself for his anxiety. He stands, setting his now sleeping laptop on the coffee table and hops down the hallway in search of the source of the wintery chill.

It’s coming from Katrina’s room. The windows open. He closes it.

His own room is just as cold as the rest of the house as a result, and he grabs his well-worn PSU hoodie off of his bed, sighing in contentment when it covers his bare forearms. T-shirts are not meant for freezing temperatures.

“Much better.” He tells himself, as he climbs into his bed.

***

The apartment is eerily dark and quiet; much like the PSU campus had been when he’d crossed it earlier. And, yet again, two lone figures are all that are present. One is aware, and one is asleep.

Or is he?

Sergey wakes with a start, an unnamable nightmare fresh and fading rapidly in his mind. That odd feeling is present again, like something’s lurking just in the shadows.

“You really shouldn’t just leave your windows open like that, you know.” Comes an unnervingly familiar voice. “You never know who’ll come in.”

He freezes. The voice is everywhere and nowhere. The shadows? He manages to flip on the lamp on the bedside table. Nothing. For a moment he thinks he imagined the voice – just a figment of his nightmare speaking words not unlike what Ryan had said earlier. But… something’s just…

He flips the light off again. Stares intently into the shadows.

“What, exactly, is it that you’re trying to do?” The voice is right beside him this time. He flips the light back on and nearly falls off the bed when he sees the black pea-coat clad figure looming just inches from him.

Sergey is sufficiently flipped out. His sore ankle protests every move he makes, but adrenaline kicks in and he shuffles backwards in a rather crab-like scramble. His back ends up against the far wall and Ryan is just leering at him. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He asks, breath heavy and eyes wide. There’s a note of easily definable terror in his voice that makes it clear that it’s not just interrupted sleep he’s upset about.

“You said drop by anytime, didn’t you?” Ryan smirks, advancing on Sergey. He has a distinctly predatory look in his eyes as he does it.

“Ryan.” He says sternly, one arm groping through the contents of the floor of his closet for something that might resemble a weapon. Shoes – possibly. Textbook – that’ll only work if he’s close. Bat – that’ll do. His fingers curl around it until his knuckles turn white. “What do you want?”

“You?”

He moves to swing the bat, but somehow Ryan’s fingers catch it in midair, before it is even close to hitting its intended target.

“Nice try.” Ryan grins easily. “You’ll have to do better than that.” He hefts Sergey to his feet – foot, actually, he balances the younger boy so he doesn’t have to put weight on the one he knows is injured, it also prevents him from kicking – and presses him hard against the wall.

“My roommates are going to be home soon. Whatever you’re planning to do, you won’t be able to.” He lies. Really, he hopes Heather and Katrina don’t come home soon. He doesn’t want Ryan attacking them over whatever the hell it is he thinks he’s doing here.

Ryan just laughs. “Oh, really now? I happen to know that they’re way off campus at a big party. I know that they’ll be there as long as they have to with the snow. And that they won’t be expecting you to show up because you had a paper to do. It was good, by the way. Bet you get an A.” He plays his hand. Shows just how much he knows.

Sergey pales completely at that revealing divulgence. No wonder he felt watched all night. He was. “You… what the hell are you doing this for?” He demands, trying to shove against the hold Ryan has on him. He’s not going anywhere, though.

“Thought you’d never ask.” The older boy grins wickedly, and his smile widens. A set of sharp, pointy, morbidly dangerous, fangs descend over Ryan’s teeth.

Sergey stops all pretenses of struggling. Freezes altogether. He’s not even sure he’s breathing anymore.

“Relax, Serge.” Ryan kind of laughs as he presses his nose against the younger’s neck and inhales. He pushes the sleeve of the Penn State hoodie up as much as he can on Sergey’s arm and then draws it up to his fanged mouth with fingers as icy as they had been in the Quad. “You’ll still be around to get that A.” He promises, just as he bites.

Somehow the words aren’t a huge comfort.