Whiskey in Your Veins

400 words :: Jason Isaacs/Liam Neeson :: 10/11/05 – 12/25/05
A handful of stories set in a universe where Jason is a vampire. (Note: These are posted in the order I wrote them, so the internal timeline skips around a bit. Commentary can be found here.)


Liam’s hand shakes, but it’s not from nervousness. Not all from nervousness, anyway. He should have asked for a drink first. Two drinks, really. Whisky for his nerves and a sip of Jason’s blood to take the edge off.

“Do it,” Jason urges, and there’s no way Liam can resist. There’s too much of Jason running through his veins.

Biting his lip, Liam takes the knife, presses the point to the muscle of Jason’s chest, just over his heart. It slices through skin easily, bright red blood welling up in its wake. He makes lines and circles, stars and zigzags. The cuts heal almost as soon as they’re made, and if Liam doesn’t press quite deep enough, they won’t even bleed, and that won’t do at all. He wants as much blood as he can get.

Jason’s breath is coming in shallow gasps, his cock straining. Liam wants that, too, wants to lick the clear bead welling up at the slit almost as much as he wants Jason’s blood. It’s not just the blood anymore, he thinks, knife clattering to the floor as Jason finally gives permission to lick him clean. Liam’s an addict, but it’s Jason he’s addicted to.

Whiskey in Your Veins

The first time they met was at a party. Liam was holding a glass of whisky, and Jason’s eyes kept flicking down to his hand, those fingers. There’d been another drink or two later back at Liam’s. Jason remembers seeing the half-empty glass the next morning, still perched on a bookshelf in the little office where Liam had finally given up all pretense of showing him around and shoved him up against the wall. Maybe it was the scent, or the taste on his tongue when they kissed, but Jason swears that when he drank, Liam’s blood tasted like whisky.


Jason drags his lips over Liam’s neck, teasing, and when Liam moans and arches up, his cock shifts, hitting just the right spot and Jason groans and does it again. But for the occasional roll of his hips, Liam is still, his heart racing, blood pounding through his veins, and Jason can almost taste it through his skin.

“Jason, please,” Liam rasps, tugging at the cuffs, and Jason smiles as he opens his mouth, fangs slicing into Liam’s neck, and drinks. He feels himself shudder and come, but he’s floating and drowning and from far away Liam is begging again.