Chapter Text
Marius straightened up, focused the powers of the Mind Gift more strongly – amid the hustle and bustle of mortal thoughts came a wavering stream of an immortal mental voice, Armand, Armand, I can’t find you, Armand, help me, Armand,
He stopped in his tracks, nostrils flaring, eyes burning. It was almost too easy to pick out even with everything else going on, even with all the people who roamed the streets laughing and shouting amid flashing neon signs, stopping for rumbling automobiles or barking dogs, even with the buzz of electric lights, the light pitter-patter of raindrops against the pavement, music spilling through the briefly opened door of a restaurant, even with the scents of rain, various foods, gasoline, cigarette smoke, and human sweat and blood all carried by the breeze, this scent which wafted toward him was unmistakable. A vampire in heat, it smelled like, desperation and arousal and blood-tinged slick, something he had not smelled since parting with Bianca all those years ago.
Armand, please help me, Armand,
Daniel Molloy, it must be. The fledgling of Armand, Marius’s own fledgling. The last Marius had seen of either of them, they were together on the Night Island, so what on earth was young Daniel doing all the way out here, searching for his maker? What’s more, he must be really bent out of shape not to remember that Armand could no longer hear his thoughts. Marius closed his eyes and opened his mind, rooting around for Daniel’s mind, trying to find out where this plea hailed from – he followed this frenzied chant and the aroma of heat down an alleyway, across the street. Slowly the smell grew stronger, of rum, of iced coffee, of peanut butter and chocolate, of vampire blood, and that generic omega sweetness. It led him to an abandoned building, barely holding itself together, where birds nested in the rafters and rats in the rotting floorboards. “Daniel,” he called out softly, treading carefully around wet spots and an anthill. “Is that you? It’s me, Marius, Armand’s maker. We met on the Night Island.”
A low groan reached his ears, sounding vaguely like the name of Armand. He turned the corner to the right, down a cracked and mouldy hallway, honing in on the small sniffles and whimpers that guided him to the boy: crouched high up on top of some shapeless thing, a shelf of some sort, perhaps, curled up in the foetal position and weeping softly into the crook of his arm, there he was. “Daniel,” Marius crooned gently. “How did you get up there?”
The fledgling gave a start and looked up at the sound of Marius’s voice, revealing the thick trails of blood, partially dried, which ran down his cheeks – a horrible sight, a weeping vampire. His jaw dropped, his nostrils flared, his eyes flashed gold, and his mind went entirely blank, only a wave of incoherent emotion emanating from him now, a deep well of want, need, alpha. Clumsily he tried to scramble to his feet and fell from his precarious perch; with a gasp, Marius rushed over to catch him before he could hit the ground. He landed almost perfectly in his arms like a fainting damsel and immediately buried his face in Marius’s throat, nuzzling into his mating gland. He groaned, grinding into Marius and gulping great lungfuls of his scent, clutching onto him with two white-knuckled fists. How could Marius resist that? He felt his eyes burn red as he shuddered at the feel of Daniel’s hot breath on his skin, sleeping systems sparking back to life. Home. He needed to get Daniel home, and then he could take care of him, figure out where to go from there. He ran with all his vampiric strength, and they were there in a flash, the door opening and closing and locking itself again for him all with the effort of his mind as he held Daniel in a bridal carry, and then he couldn’t wait any longer.
He threw Daniel onto the bed almost like a ragdoll, tore his absolutely soaked jeans and boxers off of him, and stuck his face between the fledgling’s legs, inhaling deeply of his scent. Moaning, he licked some slick off of his taint, savouring that electric kick of immortal blood against his tongue. Mind still an incoherent jumble as in television static, Daniel whined, sounding almost injured, and writhed languidly at this attention, movements lethargic like one tossing and turning in fevered sleep. He hooked his legs clumsily over Marius’s shoulders and tried to pull him upward, whimpering between little sobs.
“Shh,” Marius pulled up Daniel’s shirt, shimmied out of his own clothes, wiped pink-tinged sweat from the boy’s forehead. “Hush now, it’s all right, my boy.”
Daniel trembled and pawed at Marius’s shoulders, mumbling out a whining moan that sounded a bit like alpha. Marius reassured him again and slid himself into that pulsing slick-soaked hole, and Daniel visibly relaxed, closing his eyes and letting his jaw go slack, baring his fangs. Without thinking about it, Marius slipped two fingers past those parted lips, stroking Daniel’s tongue softly as he undulated slowly, and Daniel moaned around him, clinging to him with all four limbs, breathing hard, golden eyes half-lidded in bliss. “More,” he grunted softly around Marius’s fingers, digging into the man’s back with his heels.
Centuries since Marius had last done this; he was rusty. He did his best to accommodate the boy, throwing one of Daniel’s legs over his shoulder and sucking at his skin as he fucked him, wallowing in the heat of him, the ecstatic sing of blood all along his cock. Like comparing apples to oranges, trying to decide between this and drinking blood, not the same pleasure at all, but still oh so delicious, oh so irresistible. What a treat, this boy. Armand had chosen his fledgling well.
By the time Marius’s knot had secured them together, Daniel had fallen asleep. Poor thing. He must be exhausted. Heats and ruts in fledgling vampires came with a certain alarming frequency and intensity that often overwhelmed; after the first fifteen years or so, things tended to calm down, and one as old as Marius would only experience such a thing under extreme circumstances or when triggered by another vampire. Marius figured that Daniel’s body had already been through a lot these past few years since Akasha’s death so soon after he was made, and particularly if he found himself all alone . . .
Well. That would change. Daniel would be Marius’s guest for as long as he needed. In fact, as soon as his knot deflated, he left Daniel sleeping peacefully on the bed and began making arrangements for Daniel’s stay. Halfway through the making of the bed in the next room over, Marius heard a little whine. So Daniel had awoken. He found him sitting up in bed, eyes still glowing golden, mind as blank as before, cock rock-hard, thighs drenched in slick. He made to get up when he saw Marius, but the older immortal beat him to it, shushing him with a kiss to the forehead. Daniel pawed at Marius’s cock with a little grunt of irritation to find clothing blocking his way, and Marius shushed him again and pulled his pants down, reclining against the mass of pillows at the head of the bed, slightly upright. “Come take what you need,” he invited, and Daniel wasted no time in climbing onto his lap and sinking down with a sigh of relief, fucking himself on Marius’s cock with a wild abandon that Marius hadn’t seen since Amadeo. Like maker, like fledgling, he supposed – youthful, needly, so warm. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows, revelling in the sensation, the slide of blood-tinged slick over his shaft, the way the muscles in Daniel’s thighs moved against his sides. Yes, he could almost picture being back in Venice, an eager omega between his legs, could almost feel those auburn curls under his fingertips once more. “Yes, good boy,” he breathed, met with a gush of slick in response, and he brought one of his hands to Daniel’s leaking cock, holding it gently, stroking the tip with his thumb. Daniel moaned and groped around for Marius’s other hand, bringing it to his throat.
Marius’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”
“Please,” he groaned half-coherently.
“I don’t want to hurt you – ”
Daniel tightened his grip on Marius’s wrist and ground the base of the man’s palm into his Adam’s apple. Marius acquiesced, curling his fingers around Daniel’s throat. He stroked over the fledgling’s carotid tenderly with his thumb and performed a similar motion on his cock, licking his lips at the rush and the pulse under his fingertips, the wild dance of Daniel’s heart. Daniel relaxed ever so slightly, and Marius followed suit, though he kept the pressure of his grip steady. “That’s it,” he whispered, groaning and closing his eyes at the way Daniel’s hole clenched around him. Daniel swallowed, muscles contracting under Marius’s palm, and Marius licked his lips again, squeezing tighter as a dull ache began to develop at the base of his fangs. Such a gorgeous face all flushed and slack with arousal, such a tight hole swallowing him up so eagerly, such a lovely rush of blood straining against the constriction of Marius’s hand. Daniel picked up the pace, leaning into Marius’s hands, breath wild and erratic and excited and straining and – “Agh!”
Slick rushed hot and sweet over Marius’s chest, and the two groaned together as Marius soon followed, fangs throbbing; Daniel ground down on Marius’s cock, taking him all the way in, shuddering with ecstasy as his knot swelled, locking them together. Marius leaned over and reached into his bedside drawer for a cloth and wiped himself clean then brought it to his lips and sucked Daniel’s spend out of the fabric with a moan, rubbing it against the base of his fangs a little to relieve some of the ache, a pitiful attempt at simulating a bite, then Daniel settled down against his chest with a sigh, nuzzling into his scent gland. Marius peeked into Daniel’s mind once more to see if anything had changed; he detected only the same sort of incoherent television static feeling as before, no clear thoughts, only a jumble of confusion. Poor boy. What had happened to him to bring him into such a state as this? This was more than simply the desperation of a vampire in heat, this was a deeper sort of distress and disconnect from reality. Daniel might be out of commission for a while, even once his heat ended. He rubbed slow circles into the boy’s bare back, and Daniel gave a little satisfied hum, twining his arms around Marius’s broader shoulders.
He once more fell asleep with Marius’s knot inside him, clinging to the man in his slumber. Curling the fingers of his left hand around a fistful of dull blonde locks, squeezing perhaps a little too tight, Marius brought his right hand to his lips and bit into his own wrist with a sigh, taking a few sips of his own blood. It was the only thing he could think of to relieve this need, this urge to bite, without taking advantage of the fledgling curled up against him. It mostly worked.
This time, Daniel stayed in a state of sleep until the rays of the sun pulled him into his death sleep for the day, and Marius locked the house up tight before he, too, succumbed to unconsciousness with the covers pulled up tight over his head.
Daniel opened his eyes to find himself staring into the marble chest of an immortal flushed with the kill. His first thought was of Armand, but then the scent hit him, warm bread and sweet wine and something vaguely nutty, and alpha, and no, this couldn’t be his maker. His brows furrowed. He remembered bickering with Armand, storming out of the villa, feeling the wanderlust take hold of him once more . . . then what? How much time had elapsed since then? What had become of him? He rolled onto his back, took stock of the ceiling painted like a sunny sky full of Renaissance-style putti with harps and flutes. “Where am I?”
It was Marius, his maker’s maker, who answered him. “You are in my home. I found you wandering by yourself, calling out to Armand.”
“Armand,” he whimpered, a pang of some unidentifiable emotion shuddering through him, and then tears sprang into his eyes. He felt drunk suddenly, limbs heavy, head light, and then a sort of silent boom shocked him once more, and suddenly everything became too much. He became acutely aware of every slightest sensation – the slide of the sheets against his bare skin, half-dried slick along his hole, his ass, his thighs, the sound of Marius’s breathing and heartbeat as well as his own, which seemed unusually loud to his ears, the whoosh of the air conditioner, the rush of traffic outside, the wail of a police siren, a buzz of mortal thoughts and voices, desperate need, Marius’s scent so strong in his nose and mouth, a sheen of dried blood sweat soaking his skin, Marius’s arms around him. He began to tremble. The whole room spun, turning, turning, faster and faster, until he could no longer make out the individual putti on the ceiling., it all turned into one big brownish blur, and his eyes crossed, blood tears leaching a red mist across his field of vision. He felt the burn of his eyes that meant that a heat had turned them golden, felt slick gush from his hole, felt the sudden ache for a knot in his hole and in his fangs, felt his mind go blank, sinking into a white void with the taste of anxiety in the air. His scent soured, his ears rang, his mouth tasted like spoiled milk and stale cigarettes, his insides felt simultaneously like helium and lead, the bedsheets seared his sensitive skin. He gave a long, low whine, the sound ripping up out of his vocal cords without a conscious command, and he turned languidly onto his stomach, moaning, “Help me,”
Marius was talking to him, he was sure of it, but he couldn’t manage to pick his voice out of the din whirling around him like a tornado. He lifted himself onto his knees, humping the air. “Alpha . . . ” It was too much, almost painful and not in the typical way of desire in heat, and yet still he somehow yearned for more. As if watching himself in a dream, he was dimly aware of nothing but all-consuming desire crashing over him like the kind of wave that unexpectedly knocks you off your feet, dimly aware of hands placed gingerly on his hips, of a cock poking at his entrance. He whined again, and the cacophony of sounds reached one impossibly loud dial tone pitch, and all he saw was red.
When his faculties returned to him, the first thing he felt was the wet chill in the backs of his eyes that meant the gold had disappeared, his natural colour taking back its place in his irises. The second thing he felt was a knot in his hole. He took a deep breath in and exhaled unsteadily, and Marius asked, “Is that better?”
“Hmm,” he nuzzled into the pillows, which smelled of alpha. It’s better, he wanted to say, but through this oppressive haze in his mind which seemed to grip him by the throat, he couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate, couldn’t summon up the focus and the energy for more than a small grunt. He closed his eyes and wiggled a bit, that lovely feel of a knot stretching out his hole. Yes. Let the fog overtake him. He needed nothing but that.
As soon as he could arrange it, once Daniel’s heat had dissipated, Marius moved them both into a great big house in Norway where they could settle together as poor Daniel rode the wave of this strange madness. For months Daniel did almost nothing but wander aimlessly or stare at nothing in particular, mind blank, hardly speaking, as if he couldn’t even comprehend his surroundings. Sometimes, disturbed by the mere contact of anything to his skin, he would strip off all his clothes and wander around naked, occasionally even scratching at himself as if the very air offended his senses. Sometimes he got out, wandered away from Marius, perhaps this vestigial wanderlust from his days with Armand. Occasionally Marius would lose him for days at a time before finding him somewhere again crying out in distress, lost and starved, sometimes having to travel great distances to retrieve him. Marius would always take him back. When they were together, Marius would go out every night before Daniel rose and procure a victim for him; sometimes the boy refused this offering, pushing the mortal away with disgust or staring, uncomprehending, at Marius, and at other times he took only a few sips before returning his blank staring or becoming distracted by something else, and at other times he fed carelessly, tearing his victim’s throat and getting as much blood on his clothes and on the house than in his mouth. It was as if he had forgotten how to feed, or somehow lacked the instincts of an ordinary vampire. Marius often had to make a wound himself and guide Daniel to it in order to get him to drink. And Daniel always became more distressed after he fed, poor thing – he could not stand the sight of a corpse. It would send him into fits of crying or screaming, sometimes both, and often violent convulsions. Marius learned to quickly whisk away the body as soon as Daniel removed his mouth in order to prevent a scene.
After a while, he began to improve. While the sounds that reached his preternatural ears and the powers of the Mind Gift continued to overwhelm him, as did physical sensations, on occasion, he would go in and out of periods of greater lucidity. He began to speak again, babbling like a toddler at first, then gradually more coherent, able to hold longer conversations, though he easily became distracted or would say random things that made little sense in context or at all. He began moving more deliberately around the house, seemingly more aware of his physical presence, although sometimes he still preferred to make his rounds while unclothed. He began to ask things of Marius, ask him to purchase books or films or music or other such things which he often played on repeat for weeks at a time before moving on to the next thing, began to ask him to take him outside. He got better about feeding, though he still had a hard time with the bodies. Marius began taking him out to find his own victims on occasion, and gradually the number and the duration of these excursions increased, though what Daniel could handle still fluctuated. One autumn evening, they went out to roam the streets together. They passed a restaurant, and all at once four screaming pups spilled out of a car right in front of them; Daniel winced at the sound. They were meeting for dinner to celebrate their grandmother’s seventy-fifth birthday, which had passed on Wednesday, although this was the earliest most were available – but no, no, get out of their heads. It’s too much. It’s so much noise –
“Are you all right, Daniel? We can leave if you’re feeling overwhelmed.”
Daniel steeled his nerves, gave his jacket a little adjustment, shook his head. “No. No, I can handle it.” He was determined.
“Because if we need to continue the hunt when there are less people about, I can take you home and we can come back later – ”
“I said I can handle it,” he snapped, though he had to steady himself with a hand on Marius’s shoulder until his brief dizzy spell had passed. Overstimulation of his preternatural senses often made him dizzy, he knew not why.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Marius always saw right through him; he knew that having the Mind Gift between them allowed Marius to be there for Daniel and better aid in his recovery, but it still pissed him off sometimes, this almost violent intimacy they shared.
“I’m fine,” he insisted, halfway to a growl.
“Very well,” Marius nodded. “Let’s keep going.” He would humour the boy for now, see how he fared, though Marius worried. Daniel seemed to be in a very precarious place at the moment, and he wasn’t sure which course of action to take – if Daniel became too overwhelmed, he may have a meltdown, but then again he may react the same way if Marius tried to force him to go home. When he wasn’t all the way there, Marius never knew what little thing would send Daniel teetering over the edge.
How there was he, currently?
“Daniel, what animal is that?”
“It’s a dog?” said Daniel, in the tone of voice that says, duh, are you stupid or something? Marius quickly stamped down a flare of indignant ire, reminding himself that Daniel wasn’t himself at the moment, like other times when he took such a tone, and that Daniel needed his help, certainly not his harsh retorts.
“Yes, but what kind of dog is it? What is that breed called?”
“Oh,” his eyes began to glass over with another flinch at the dog’s bark; its owner scolded it and apologised to them, and Marius assured her that it was all right. Daniel felt a bit of a flush coming on, though he had not yet fed. He continued, “It’s a German shepherd.”
Marius nodded, as if to say, good. On some days, he couldn’t even answer questions like that in a coherent manner.
“It – it was loud. It – woof!” Daniel made a barking noise, then a small, half-delirious giggle he couldn’t suppress. Definitely still somewhat out of it, then.
“Do you know what day it is today, Daniel?”
“Friday?”
“I meant the date, my boy.”
“Oh. No,” his voice began to take on the same glassy quality as his expression. The beginnings of an ache formed just below his navel.
“It is the thirty-first of October.”
“Ah! That’s Halloween, isn’t it? I don’t remember. I don’t see any costumes.”
“Halloween isn’t celebrated all too terribly much outside of your United States,” Marius explained.
“Really?”
“Yes,”
“Oh.” Daniel stopped in his tracks to collect himself as a motorcycle roved by, the roar of it a violation of his eardrums.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine, it’s just . . . ” Daniel swayed, a little bout of dizziness overtaking him again, the flush becoming more prominent. “Halloween. Ha-Halloween . . . That was . . . ” He wandered slightly, following an ant on the sidewalk.
“That was what, Daniel?” Marius prompted.
He blinked, shook his head a little as if to clear the cobwebs away. “Lestat’s concert. Akasha. M-my deathday,” he said dreamily, a pleasant but faraway look in his eyes.
“You remember?”
“Of course I remember,” Daniel scoffed, wincing at the sudden honk of the horn of an angry driver. “It was what I had been waiting for for so long,” he paused a minute, cocking his head to the side like a curious dog, then asked in that same milky voice, “When is your deathday, Marius?”
Marius pressed his lips together. He tried not to think of that all too often. “I was brought into the Blood on the night of the Festival of Samhain.”
“When’s that?”
“I’m not sure, I think it’s . . . why, it might be today! Would you look at that.”
“It’s your deathday,” Daniel smiled simply, eyes still a little spacey, trying his damndest to fight off the invasion of fog in his brain. “You – you need a present.”
“A present – ? Let’s get you fed and safely back home.”
“No, you need a present!” He struggled against Marius’s gentle guiding hands; Marius let him go, afraid to hurt him. “What, did they not do birthday presents in ancient Rome or something? Everyone gets a present on their birthday!” He stomped his foot like a pup, then stopped, confused, surprised by his own irritation. His brow furrowed, his voice got softer, something vaguely melancholic about it. “Right? I’m sure I remember birthday presents. Yes, on your birthday you get a gift. On your deathday you should get a gift, if you’re a vampire, it only makes sense, I think. God. It’s so hard to think. Everything is so goddamn loud!” He doubled over with a cry of pain, covering his ears and scrunching his eyes up tight. That all too familiar and dreaded full-body silent popping ripped through him, and all the voices, all the motion, he couldn’t hold it at bay any longer. His clothes burned against his flesh, and he writhed, every movement, every abrasion sending violent shockwaves over every nerve, every cell. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,”
“Shh, it’s all right, Daniel,” Marius put his arms around him, stroking his dull blonde hair soothingly. “It’s all right. You’re all right.”
He kept repeating that one word, almost like a mantra, whimpering out, “No, no, no, no, no,” please, this couldn’t be happening, not again, this torment, this assault on all his senses, it wasn’t fair, why? Why must this happen to him? Out of the corner of his reddening blurring vision he saw people beginning to stare, but he couldn’t make himself stop. He watched himself from a distance as he rocked back and forth, hands clamped firmly over his ears, Marius glaring at the oglers and even using his vampiric gifts to keep them moving and at a respectful distance. Marius put his hand on Daniel’s chest, saying softly, “Daniel, can you feel that? Can you feel where we’re touching, where my hand is on your chest?”
Daniel whimpered.
“I need you to answer me out loud, Daniel. Can you feel my hand?”
Daniel asserted his focus as hard as he could, swallowing and blinking at the blood tears which he hadn’t realised had begun to fall down his cheeks. He gave a barely perceptible little nod and pushed out a trembling, breathless “yeah.”
“Good. I want you to focus on my hand, yes? Focus on the sensation of me touching you. Can you do that for me?”
“Okay,” he whimpered, closing his ruddied eyes with a shaky inhale. Marius’s hand was cold, even colder than Daniel’s own skin, and much harder, like living stone. He clasped Marius’s hand and held it in his own against his chest with a few more purposeful breaths, whimpering again as a particularly noisome car drove past. “It’s loud, Marius, it’s so loud, it’s too much, I can’t take it.”
“Yes, you can, I know you can. You’ve done it before, you can do it now. I believe in you. Just focus on my hand. Can you describe to me what you feel?”
Daniel kept his eyes closed as he ran his thumb over the back of Marius’s hand. “You’re . . . cold. So cold. And so hard, like a rock. Heh. Hard,” he giggled, high-pitched, and Marius encouraged him, “Good.” He continued, “A-and there’s a vein sticking out that I’m tracing over now. It’s just a little bit squishier than the rest of you.”
“Good job, Daniel. Can you keep going?”
He gave a breathless, anxious laugh. “Marius, I’m dizzy again.” Even with his eyes closed, his head spun almost violently, like a carnival ride. If he were mortal, it would probably make him lose his lunch. He rocked harder, whining.
“It’s all right, Daniel. It’ll pass.”
“No, you don’t understand, you don’t – oh god, Marius, everything is – it’s too fast, it’s too fast!”
“Shh,” he pulled him into a hug, running his hand gently up and down the fledgling’s back. “Just sit still for me. It’ll stop spinning soon. You’ll be all right.”
He was crying again, back to changing “no” under his breath between hiccupping sobs. His head spun as if he had been caught in a tornado, whirling around and around and around, the voices, oh god, the voices! Too many of them! Like the high school cafeteria at lunchtime on a rainy day, a few hundred hormonal assholes all stuck inside the same abysmal room with tile floor and tile walls and a tile ceiling all in the same shade of greyish white flecked with dusty blue, tiles that bounced back and amplified every sound that was made in the place, dim fluorescent lights giving everything a pale, depressing washed-out look, hundreds of voices shouting and laughing, all competing to be heard over the din, the kind of noise where you can scream and scream and hardly hear your own voice in it all, too many voices overlapping, and he covered his ears, but that didn’t help, that couldn’t stop it, the voices were in his mind, they were violating his very brain, and oh, everything was spinning, everything was spinning, loud, loud, loud, he was so cold, so tired, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, “Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop,”
“Daniel!”
“Make it stop, oh god, please, make it stop, no, no, no, no, no,”
It turned into one big incoherent wail, hot, thick trails of blood staining his alabaster face, and he hardly registered Marius hauling him to his feet, scooping him up in a bridal carry, and speeding as fast as his vampiric abilities allowed him to go, back to their house, hardly registered it until he was being laid down on a soft bed and his head hit the pillow, and suddenly everything was quieter, muffled, like he had been dunked underwater.
“Are you still dizzy, Daniel?”
He felt an ache in his chest that travelled down his spine into his ass, and he began to grow warm. The haze in his mind slowly turned golden. “No,” he sniffled. “But my head still feels funny. And I think I – it’s time again.”
Marius kissed him, helping him out of his clothes. As Marius pulled his own shirt off, Daniel whimpered, “Wait,”
“What is it?”
“But it’s your deathday. You still need a present.”
Marius kissed him again. “You’re my present.”
Daniel shuddered. “Oh, shit.” He blinked slowly, and when his eyes opened again, they glowed gold. He was very aware of his hole suddenly, a warmth emanating from it that spread all throughout his limbs, lending them a sort of heavy weightlessness, and he gushed slick all over himself. “Alpha,” he gasped, spreading his legs, and Marius shushed him and pushed himself in, licking away Daniel’s blood tears, pressing little kisses to his hair, his shoulder, his throat, twining their fingers together and holding Daniel’s hands above his head on the pillows.
“I’m here,” he moaned. “I’ve got you.” They had done this countless times since Marius had first taken Daniel in, the latter still going through the period of frequent fledgling heats, but Marius never tired of it. Absolutely delicious, this boy, so soft and sweet and young and energetic even in his madness. When he had mortal blood in his veins, he still looked so terribly close to human, not yet far enough removed from that time of his life to have lost that softer quality to his eyes and skin, and he may have been mistaken for just a melancholy human man, save for the times he flinched at noises no human could hear or pushed at something, not knowing his own preternatural strength, and accidentally broke it. Such a beautiful thing, full of fire, full of this refreshing lust for life whenever his mind was full. He fucked him slow and sweet, with a shower of kisses, just savouring that warmth. When his knot came, they relaxed together. Daniel’s eyes turned back to violet. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
“Yeah? That’s good.”
They turned onto their sides, and Daniel buried his nose in Marius’s throat. “You smell so good,” he breathed, and Marius sighed, threading his fingers through Daniel’s hair.
“You too,” he kissed the top of his head.
Daniel gulped down Marius’s scent, which sent a pleasant warmth tingling down his spine, culminating in where their bodies locked together. “Marius,” he whined as the other vampire’s knot deflated and he pulled out.
“I’m here,”
Daniel buried his face in the pillows, tears springing to his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Whad to you have to be sorry for, dear boy?”
“I freaked out again.”
Marius smoothed his ward’s hair back. “It’s not your fault, Daniel.”
Daniel whimpered. “I’m never gonna get better.”
“Now, don’t say that. Of course you’ll get better. You’re already doing much better than you were when I found you.”
“It’s just so hard,” he sobbed breathlessly. “It’s so hard for me.”
“I know,”
“I know it’s not easy for you, either.”
“Perhaps not,” Marius traced his knuckle along Daniel’s cheekbone. “But I don’t mind.”
Daniel sniffled again. “Do you even like me?”
A pause. “What?”
“Do you even want me or are you just doing this because you feel like you have to?”
Marius blinked. “Daniel, don’t be absurd. Of course I care for you a great deal. You’re no burden to me.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Marius’s heart sank. “Daniel . . . ” he coaxed his ward’s face from the pillows and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, my boy.”
Daniel sighed pitifully. “Why?” he breathed. “What do you see in me? I’m crazy. I can hardly hold a conversation half the time. I’m a nuisance. I’m dragging you down. I’m not even a good omega. No alpha’s ever stuck around just for me.”
“Sweet boy,” Marius laughed despite himself, kissing Daniel’s lips again, then turning him onto his back, kissing his tears away, kissing his throat, his shoulders, “I don’t care that you’re mad. I’m more than happy to look after you while you recover. I’m proud to call you my companion,” he kissed his chest, down to his stomach. “I’m not going anywhere, Daniel. You’re safe,” he said, then he took Daniel’s cock into his mouth and relished the sound of his ward’s gasp of pleasure, relished the sweet taste of slick gathered on his tip. Good boy, he rubbed Daniel’s thigh, and Daniel gushed slick over the backs of his thighs in response. Just relax for me.
Daniel bucked up into Marius’s mouth with a moan.
Good.
Daniel locked his legs around Marius’s back and allowed the feeling to grasp him in a snug embrace, not tight enough to hurt but a pleasant pressure, like being enfolded in a mother’s arms. The threat of those wolfish fangs so near his cock sent a thrill running through him like a bolt of lightning, and his hole spilled slick all over the bed as he groaned, rubbing his hands over his belly, through grey-blonde tresses. “Please,” he breathed, not even certain what it was he was asking for, just more, just need.
I’ve got you.
Oh, yes, this, Marius’s fang grazing right across that sweet spot, and then –
“Fuck!” he bucked his hips up, shuddering through his orgasm as his fingers tightened around handsfuls of Marius’s hair. Marius saw him through then pulled away licking his lips, throat bobbing in a swallow, eyes fluttering as he rolled the flavour around on his tongue, and they sat back together, Daniel’s back against Marius’s chest; Daniel sighed.
Marius ran his hands along Daniel’s arms. “Okay?”
“Okay,” he nodded, closing his eyes and nuzzling into Marius’s throat.
“Good,” Marius began to massage Daniel’s shoulders gently. “Oh, my beautiful boy.”
Daniel sniffled. “That’s what he used to call me.”
“Who?”
“Armand.”
“Oh,” Marius said.
Daniel picked at the blanket; he felt like he should say something more about Armand, but his brain refused to supply him with the right words.
He recalled the first time Armand saw him in heat. He had tracked Daniel to this shitty motel room he had rented and walked through the door to find him crying into stale, scentless blankets, a pitiful excuse for a nest, fucking himself on a bottle of shampoo. Armand pet him and kissed his hair through it, then when he finally fell asleep Armand slipped away and came back with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, snacks, more bedding, and a knotted dildo. Daniel learned that Armand, too, was an omega, though he hadn’t had a heat for hundreds of years; even still, he knew how to meet Daniel’s needs. He fucked him with the dildo, he helped him construct a proper nest which smelled like the two of them. “I want to make a nest,” said Daniel in a small voice.
“Very well,” Marius kissed the top of Daniel’s head. “I’ll go get some more blankets.”
“And the pillows from the couch,” Daniel called after him as he made his way to the linen cupboards, and he laughed and confirmed, “And the pillows from the couch.” The pillows where Marius sat. The pillows that smelled like fruit and nuts and alpha. Like home.
Once upon a time, a place called the Night Island had been his home, built for him by Armand. It was still under his name. By the time its construction was completed, Daniel had gotten himself on heat suppressants. What with the running and the fighting and the drinking, he sometimes forgot to take the pills on time, but between the meds and Armand’s attentiveness he had very few mishaps the final few years of his mortal life. Of course, he soon learned that heat suppressants don’t work on vampires, unfortunately. That was half of his problem.
Marius returned with armfuls of nesting material – the pillows from the couch, as requested, and Marius’s robe taken from its hook in the bathroom, and heaps upon heaps of bedding, thick downy comforters and smooth silk sheets and quilts trimmed with fur. Daniel began to purr softly as the nest took shape, a little cave with fabric walls, boxed in with sheets tied to the top and sides of the four-poster bed like the pillow forts he had made on the bottom bunk as a pup.
Yes, dark and cosy and warm and – cuddling with his alpha. Yes. His alpha. Marius pulled a fur blanket up over them both, cradling Daniel to his chest, and they both relaxed. A part of him knew it was all in his head, but Daniel felt like being in his enclosed space actually cut him off from the outside world, as if the flimsy cotton was a shield through which the overwhelm of chattering mortal voices could not penetrate. No more burning, no more searing urgency, he wound down, a pleasant warmth now, and a new hunger taking its place.
“It’s my deathday,”
“So it is,”
“Can I have a present?”
“What would you like me to give you, Daniel?”
“Your blood,” he breathed, working his nose and mouth up past the mating gland, pressing his lips to the steady pulse behind Marius’s ear, sucking softly on the skin.
He had never asked for that before. Marius had never presumed to offer it, but if the boy really wanted it, “Take it,” Marius craned his neck back, guiding Daniel to his exposed jugular and groaning as he bit down, as that insistent tug on his heart began.
Daniel echoed the sound, blood bursting out onto his tongue like juice from the most succulent of fruits, erotic, ecstatic, electric, better than he had expected, better than Armand’s blood had tasted to him as a mortal who couldn’t fully appreciate it. Something warm spread throughout his whole body, blooming in his stomach, a peacefulness, a sense of safety descending upon him as he fell into the rapture of the swoon. This was nothing like the muffled underwater sensation that ruled his more coherent moments, nor like the whirlpool of a breakdown, this was . . . clarity. The raging waters of his soul went still, fully tethered to reality and freer than he had felt since Armand had finally given him immortality; his senses were sharp and defined but not overwhelming, and he felt a presence of mind that he hadn’t possessed in a long time, almost like his old self again. The blood zing ed to his brain, clearing away the fog like flushing water down a straw and watching it wash all the residue away. He ground down on Marius’s thigh and laughed into his mouth, overjoyed at actually feeling fine for once. Why hadn’t they tried this sooner? He was alive! And everything was on fire.
But the flames were extinguished the moment the blood stopped flowing, and the water seeped slowly back in to replace it, drowning him again.
His mouth tasted like stale cigarette ash all of a sudden. He blinked slowly a few times as he caught his breath, and his voice sounded far away, almost not like his voice at all, as he asked, “May I have some more?”
Marius guided him back to the closing wound, and Daniel reopened it eagerly, welcoming the almost violent spurt of blood that smacked against the roof of his mouth, groaning into marble flesh as he rutted against him. He broke the surface of the water the moment his caretaker’s ancient blood hit his tongue, thick and sweet, pooling like a weight in his stomach, and everything whooshed pleasantly back to normal, and he was actually okay for once.
But he sank back down into the water as soon as he took his mouth away.
He wanted to speak, but couldn’t find the words to say, his brain was broken, so he just kissed Marius, knicking his tongue on his fang just to feel the rush.
“May I?” Marius kissed his throat, and Daniel let out a whine that sort of sounded like “yeah” and closed his eyes as those wolfish fangs sank into his skin with utter grace and care, and the euphoria washed over him once more, orgasmic. He shuddered. Marius’s lip ghosted so delicately over the skin of his throat, yes, so good, take it from me, ravish me.
Oh, and he did.
Daniel gasped for breath, head spinning (but in a good way this time) as Marius pulled away, completely, thoroughly, rapturously wrecked. He ran his hands along Marius’s chest, then bit down just above one flushed ancient nipple, threading his fingers through a faint blonde happy trail and tugging softly at the hairs on his navel. Marius’s own fingers felt so good massaging Daniel’s scalp, so soothing, and before he knew it he had taken far more blood than he could comfortably hold, filled to bursting with sweet ambrosia and beyond satisfied.
Daniel laid his head against Marius’s chest with a sigh, breathing in that sweet scent once more. It was quiet in his mind, finally, it was peaceful, it was still. He had strong arms around him, delicate fingers playing with his hair, a bellyful of blood, and nothing else mattered. He was safe.