My Vampire Boyfriend

Chapter 15: The Dead Ghost

In the master bedroom upstairs, a battle between man and ghost was about to erupt.

Without a word, Ethan snapped his laptop shut with a pa, seized the lazy ghost slouched in his gaming chair, and pulled him aside before sitting down himself.

Lucien, who had been watching a live stream, was stunned for three seconds before bursting into a tantrum. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Having rushed over like a responsible parent, Ethan hadn’t even had time to dry his hair. He raked his damp strands back with one hand and countered coolly, “Who exactly has the problem here?”

“You do! Get lost—this is my chair! Did I say you could sit?”

“This is my house,” Ethan said, his tone carrying a faint warning. “I let you stay, and I can just as easily throw you out. Sit on the bed and stop shouting.”

“…” Even a fool could tell Ethan was angry now.

But Lucien couldn’t fathom why Ethan was angry—much less what gave him the right to be. How dare this human raise his voice to him?

“What are you standing there for?” Ethan pressed, voice softer now but still firm. “Sit down. I have a few things to say.”

Lucien crossed his arms defiantly. “I told you—no human can give me orders.”

“Fine,” Ethan said mildly. “Then stand.”

Lucien: “…”

Both were men—being seen naked in the shower shouldn’t have been a big deal. Ethan wasn’t petty. What infuriated him was Lucien’s utter lack of boundaries, his shameless commentary as his eyes roamed over places they shouldn’t.

And finally—“Big or not, it’s useless. Humans age fast; give it a few years and you’ll be done for.”

Ever since Lucien had started watching gaming streamers, his tongue had grown dangerously slick, his vocabulary more colorful than ever.

Ethan decided he truly must have been insane—to try disciplining a disobedient vampire like a wayward child.

Before he could speak, that child plopped himself onto Ethan’s lap, wriggling and pushing stubbornly. “Get off, you damn brat! My chair’s mine alone!”

“Cut it out. Down.”

“You get down!”

Reasoning was useless—the dead ghost wasn’t listening at all.

Ethan’s patience snapped. He slid his arms under Lucien’s and locked them tight across his chest, holding him in a firm, almost punishing grip.

He held him hard—hard enough that Lucien’s legs started kicking as he struggled for air, clawing at Ethan’s arms while spewing every curse he knew.

“Bastard—ugh—let me go! You… turtle spawn! i***t human!”

“Still throwing a fit?” Ethan muttered, his chin brushing the top of Lucien’s head. “Keep it up, and I’ll really smack you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You know how I’d do it?”

Lucien froze.

Ethan sighed, his tone calm but dangerous. “Three times a day. Two cheeks. Three slaps each side—until you learn to watch your mouth.”

Lucien hissed, “You… dead man.”

“Try to remember,” Ethan said dryly, “you’re supposed to be a prince. Act like one. Don’t behave like some ill-mannered punk. Behave, and I’ll let you go.”

Though vampires didn’t rely on oxygen, they still breathed out of habit—and being restrained like this was humiliating. Lucien’s pride burned. He finally nodded frantically, lips clamped tight, refusing to utter a single word, as if speaking would mean conceding defeat to a mere human.

At last, he stilled. Ethan exhaled.

And though he didn’t particularly want to feed the vampire now, it was time to follow discipline with a reward. After all, Lucien always behaved best after feeding.

Ethan shifted him around so they were face-to-face, tilting his head to the side to expose his neck. “Go on. This one’s on the house.”

Lucien blinked, startled, staring at the offering right before him.

Ethan’s scent was intoxicating—clean, tinged with cool mint. Lucien’s throat tightened; he opened his mouth wide and sank his fangs in greedily, piercing skin, hitting the vein, and drinking deep.

“Ah—” Ethan winced at the first sharp sting, then relaxed against the chair, listening to the hurried gulping. He placed a hand on Lucien’s back, half in warning, half in care.

“Easy. No one’s stealing it from you.”

“Glug, glug, glug—”

Lucien drank like a starved beast, desperate and relentless. Ethan’s fingers brushed through his hair, an involuntary smile tugging at his lips.

It must have felt divine—Lucien drank until his craving eased, then slumped forward against Ethan’s chest, drowsy and content. “Sleepy…” he murmured, eyelids drooping.

After two weeks of feeding, Ethan had grown used to the sensation. The pain was muted now, replaced by something stranger—something almost… intimate.

He couldn’t name it—half repulsion, half enjoyment.

He held Lucien gently, letting the vampire rest against him. He hadn’t managed to become Lucien’s caretaker—but he’d made a decent pillow.

When Lucien finally drifted into a deep sleep, Ethan lifted him and laid him in bed, drawing the blanket over him.

The noonday sunlight streamed softly through the curtains, gilding the room in quiet warmth. Ethan stood beside the bed, gaze lingering on Lucien’s flushed lips, then slowly lifted his eyes to that serene, sleeping face.

For a long moment, he leaned closer, almost close enough to kiss. But reason prevailed; instead, his thumb brushed lightly across those lips, feeling the soft, pliant texture.

By the afternoon, Liam had returned—with two workmen in tow, carrying bed frames and tools. Soon the guest room echoed with hammering.

Ethan, unfamiliar with vampire abilities, recalled that Lucien could conjure his own clothes—yet Liam, “Mr. Ronghu,” had arrived with a massive suitcase. Heaven knew what it contained.

“Ethan, right?” Liam smiled apologetically. “Sorry for the noise. Hope we’re not disturbing you.”

“It’s fine,” Ethan said, then added, “Lucien’s asleep.”

“Let him be woken,” Liam said lightly. “He sleeps too much anyway.”

Ethan: “…”

Liam went on, “By the way, could you give me your account info? I’ll transfer rent tomorrow—ten thousand a month. Is that acceptable?”

The whole property didn’t even rent for that much. Ethan stared, perplexed. Lucien had been begging for game skins like a broke kid—what kind of rift did these vampire brothers have?

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Liam added with a faint smile, “ten thousand US dollars.”

A windfall from the heavens—and Ethan didn’t even blink. “I’m not taking your money. Just tell me roughly how long you’ll stay. The lease ends next August.”

Among the blood clan, rumors of a frail young prince weren’t secret. Liam feared that half-bloods hunting for them would target the “bunny brat.” If anything happened to him, Leo would punish him beyond redemption.

He didn’t know how much the boy had told this human, so he kept it brief. “We won’t stay that long. Once Lucien’s had his fill of fun, we’ll leave. Maybe in half a month.”

Half a month…

Ethan had questions, but before he could ask, his phone rang—it was the agent from the real estate office. As he excused himself, a thunderous shout erupted upstairs.

“Too damn noisy!”

Lucien stormed out of bed, charged next door, and froze. A lavish double bed stood assembled in the guest room—clearly for his brother.

Moments later, he bolted downstairs, first unloading his fury on Liam, then spinning on Ethan. “I swear I’m gonna kill someone! If you don’t want to die, kick him out!”

Ethan merely looked at him, silent and weary.

Playing half-father to the brat, Liam couldn’t just ignore it. With the workers gone, he turned stern. “So this is how you bullied him into being your blood donor? And what’s this about house chores?”

“None of your damn business!” Lucien snapped.

“Don’t worry,” Liam told Ethan reassuringly. “He can’t kill you—and he won’t. He’s all bark.”

The last shred of Lucien’s pride shattered. Refusing to admit weakness, he grabbed Liam by the collar, ready to strike—only for his raised fist to be caught midair.

“Lucien,” Ethan said, dragging him back. “Come with me. I’ll buy you ten golden skins.”

At that, Lucien instantly brightened and followed, tail practically wagging, leaving Liam puzzled—wondering what kind of “golden skins” could so easily tame the little prince.

Once they were alone in an empty alley, Lucien puffed up his chest, trying to restore his dignity. “You know who I am, right? I’m powerful. Liam’s beneath me. I’m a pureblood—the highest rank in the vampire clan. I’ll only grow stronger.”

Ethan, who had known since their first meeting that Lucien was just a loud, childish paper tiger, simply nodded. “I know.”

Lucien relaxed a little, pleased. “Good. You promised me ten golden skins—don’t forget. When the new event starts, you’ll buy them.”

“Sure.”

Lucien tilted his head. “Where are we going?”

Ethan hadn’t planned to say—but since Lucien asked, he replied simply, “To look at a house.”