Appetizing

Written for my April Fic Challenge 2021, Prompt: Allergies. Somehow 3 of my writing challenge prompts this week ended up with vampire fandoms, odd. Established relationship. Comments and kudos would be awesome. Enjoy!


Charley arrives at Jerry's house late in the afternoon and lets himself in with the key given to him some months ago, when they were long past the need for invitations. With the door unlocked, he carefully juggles the few grocery bags he's carrying from arm to arm as he struggles to get the door open and then closed again behind him. "Jerry," he calls out, despite the fact that announcing his presence to a being with vampiric senses is, admittedly, a little bit pointless, "I got the stuff for dinner."

"In the kitchen," the vampire calls back.

They're having Charley's mother over for dinner tonight in yet another in a long line of attempts to get her to come around on the subject of Charley and Jerry's relationship. She, understandably, does not approve – though Charley isn't sure if it's the vampirism or the age-difference that concerns her more. Still, now that he's 18, and more or less living with Jerry, there isn't much she can do to stop it.

So, the kitchen is not a surprising place to find the man. Jerry is a much better cook than Charley. Jerry is hundreds of years old, after all – he's had an absurdly long time to perfect his cooking skills, even if he has little opportunity to utilize them given his limited diet. He heads toward the kitchen, where whatever Jerry is making smells delicious.

However, there is one aroma that stands out from the rest.

"Is that… garlic?" Charley asks, concerned. He finds Jerry there, making what seems to be a very complex pasta sauce on the stove. Indeed, peeled cloves of fresh garlic are on the cutting board, in the process of being chopped, along with onions and several fresh herbs.

"Of course," Jerry answers, seemingly unconcerned by the presence of the allegedly dangerous root vegetable he is handling.

Charley sets the grocery bags down on the counter and frowns in confusion. "But… aren't you… you know, allergic?"

Jerry laughs, "No."

"No?"

Jerry flashes him a fanged smile. "Imagine, if you will," he begins. He digs through the grocery bags, sets aside the things he needs, puts the rest away – returns to the stove to stir something simmering in a pot. "You're a vampire, a long, long, long time ago. The humans who live nearby have started growing wary of the possibility of vampires existing – they've heard the legends and the stories and the superstitions and they're scared. You know that scared humans are dangerous humans. You have to do something about it before their attention turns to you. They need to feel safe. So, along comes a tale that eating garlic – eating," he pointedly adds, "not hanging it around like overzealous Christmas decorations, mind you, some things may have gotten lost in translation – will protect them from the undead."

"So, that time I covered my room in every bit of garlic I could find at the store…"

"Funny, but not at all effective," Jerry confirms.

"But, why garlic? Why not… I don't know, potatoes?"

"Because by the time that rumor started, most vampires had figured out that garlic increases blood flow. Anywhere the story had spread that had garlic readily available, the people turned into very tasty, very efficient blood donors."

Charley eyes the sheer amount of garlic that is apparently going into this recipe. "Planning on a very tasty, very efficient blood donation tonight, then, are we?"

Jerry pulls him in for a kiss, lets his fangs trail over Charley's lips, teasing. "What if I told you there were much less well known rumors about how vampires hate it when their victims take long, hot baths?"

"Odd, I never read about that one in any of the vampire lore books," he counters, "But I suppose I'll have to keep that in mind for after dinner. Wouldn't want to risk running into any trouble. Between that and the garlic, though, I should be pretty safe."

"Perfectly safe," his vampire agrees.