A Chanukah Surprise

Out of all the things Simon had missed when he was a vampire, the taste of oily, greasy, potato latkes was definitely in the top ten. This was his first Chanukah since being a vampire and food no longer tasted like ash in his mouth. That meant all the latkes, sufganiyot (jelly donuts), and other assorted fried foods he could want. Generally he would invite Eric over for at least one day to help drown potato batter in oil. Rebecca thought they were morons and always said "I told you so" when they ended up sprawled on the couch clutching their stomachs and moaning after eating too many latkes.

This year, Eric was at college and couldn't make it. So it was just Simon and Rebecca and their mom. Rebecca decided to help him with the latkes. She has this idea for healthy, gluten-free, carrot latkes.

"That's it. You've officially ruined Chanukah," said Simon, looking at their creation. It was a sad, lopsided, orange lump that looked like cat vomit.

"Now that you're no longer, you know, a vampire, you can get sick. And it's my job as your big sister to make sure you don't get diabetes before your twenty-first birthday." Rebecca teased.

"Can we keep the whole vampire thing on the down-low?" Simon whispered.

"You still haven't told mom, yet?" she asked.

"I'm not one, anymore, so there's no reason to ever tell her."

"She thought you were a drug addict!"

"Because she liked that idea better than me being an undead monster!"

"Simon you were never a monster," Rebecca said quietly.

"Just try not to mention Downworlders or Shadowhunters or vampires tonight."

Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang. Rebecca looked at Simon. "I thought you said Eric wasn't coming this year?"

"He isn't." Simon walked over to the door and opened it.

Standing on his doorstep was the the sorriest looking Spanish vampire ever.

"Raphael."

"Simon. You know I wouldn't come if it weren't urgent."

"I was under the impression that you wouldn't ask for my help if you were bleeding out in the street and only I could save you."

Raphael looked at him desperately. "Camille kicked me out of the clan and I had nowhere else to go. I haven't eaten in three days."

Simon crossed his arms. "Fine. Come in. Just don't say anything about vampires to my mom."

"Thank you." Raphael came inside.

"Simon? Rebecca? Are you done with the latkes?" Simon's mom called out. "Oh. Who's this?"

"This is Raphael. He's my, uh-"

"A friend," Raphael supplied.

Simon was surprised. Raphael had never referred to him as a friend before.

"Okay. I hope you know how to play dreidel," his mom said, "'cause Simon and Rebecca kick my ass and I need someone on my team. Usually I have Simon's bandmate, Eric, but he's not here this year."

"Eric. The one with the bad poetry," Raphael said, recounting what he had heard from Clary and Simon.

"I wouldn't say that to his face, but yeah. I hope you're hungry. Simon and Rebecca made way too many latkes."

"I'm starving, actually."

Simon's mom smiled and walked back into the kitchen.

"You're Raphael Santiago," Rebecca said once their mom was out of earshot.

"Yes," Raphael drawled, "Simon did mention that."

"You're the vampire that made my brother's life a living hell when you turned him," she accused.

"In my defense, I didn't do it on purpose."

"Why are you even here?" she spat.

"I have no where else to go." He looked defeated.

"Why didn't you go to the Institute, then?"

"I do have some dignity left. And like those Shadowhunters would ever actually save a Downworlder's life. They'd be disappointed they didn't get the chance to kill me themselves."

"Maybe you should die," she said.

"All I need is a little blood, and then I'll be on my way," he said.

"We don't have any blood bags left," Rebecca said. "Simon doesn't need them anymore."

"Actually I do have some," Simon interjected. "They're in my room. Come on. You can have some, and then you can leave." He motioned for Raphael to follow him upstairs. Raphael gratefully scampered up the stairs behind him.

Simon opened the door to his bedroom and went to the mini fridge. Simon's room was covered in posters of various comics, animes, and other nerd merch. Raphael eyed Simon's life-size cardboard cutout of Darth Vader.

"Don't," Simon warned. Raphael kept his mouth shut. Simon tossed a blood bag to Raphael, who grabbed it up immediately.

"Thank you," he said in between slurps.

"Don't mention it."

"No really. Anyone else would have let me starve. Even your redheaded friend."

"Clary. And you could have gone to Luke or Magnus," Simon said. "They're not Shadowhunters. They would have helped you."

"I wanted you, Simon," Raphael said quietly. "I wanted to know if you would've let me starve or if you would save me."

"Well, I saved you," Simon said, throwing down the blood bags he was taking out of the fridge. "What does that say about me?"

"It says you care about me."

"Of course I care about you, Raphael."

Raphael turned to face him. There was still blood on his face, which Simon wiped off with his thumb. Their faces were unsettlingly close. "I care about you, too. I hope you know that."

"Good," Simon said. He put his hand on Raphael's cheek and brought his lips to the other boy's. The kiss was brief, but they both pulled away looking flustered. If Raphael could blush, he would have been bright red.

"Um, we should probably go downstairs," Simon suggested.

"Yeah. We don't want to keep anyone waiting," Raphael said.

"You'll stay for dinner, right?" Simon asked.

"Definitely."