Work Text:
Scoping out the group of nobodies at Oakhurst, frankly, Scott wasn’t impressed. It’s quite difficult to impress a vampire of his status and age, after all. Small girls with soda bottle glasses, limping boys in rags, and a slew of people who could never hope to match him in terms of prestige nor wit. To be honest, he was just waiting to escape this slum and find somewhere worthwhile to stake his claim.
Until then, though… he guessed he needed to have some roots here. However long he’d be living there, he’d need as much convenience as he could get.
This brings him to Renhardt Dogmourne. Renborn Dog…hurst? Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Ren. It’s late into the night when he creeps up to Ren’s door… his silken black cloak, as well as framing his body perfectly, helped him blend easily into the shadows. Some were still awake, to be sure, but that couldn’t be helped– he was resourceful, he could make do. Especially with this mortal’s stupidly open invitation to his home. It was trivial to sneak in– most the buildings here barely had doors– the ones that did sure as hell couldn’t lock.
The man’s abode was completely dark, near devoid of life. Oh, yes, this was perfect. God, just a taste of fresh human blood… it’d been centuries, Scott was practically salivating at the thought. Now to find his bed…
As soon as Scott could shut the door and take a single step, a match behind him was lit. Scott froze on the spot. Well, shit. This threw a wrench in his plan.
He turned, looking to see Ren adjusting his glasses as he peered at him.
“...Mister Nobleman,” he stated in that strange, soft voice of his.
Scott nodded, folding his arms behind his back nonchalantly.
“Ren. Do you mind if I come in?”
Not that it matters, you dope, he thought. I’m already in. That’s your own fault.
“What hour is it?” Ren asked. “Well past midnight, say those shadows.”
The crimson shadows on the walls and floors did reveal that the blood moon was setting.
“I’m sorry. I’m an insomniac. But I… well, I had a feeling you’d be awake,” Scott lied. Ren raised a bushy gray eyebrow, and Scott wasn’t sure if he’d buy it. He tried to smile disarmingly. “I was hoping we could share that tea?”
Luckily, Ren seemed susceptible to his charms. He smiled in turn.
“Rude to drop in unannounced, don’tcha know?” he chided lightly. Scott laughed, sort of surprised he was getting away with this. Ren walked past him, sitting on a stool-like thing in the corner and gesturing Scott to sit on the bed across from him. Scott, against his better judgement, sat and hoped there weren’t too many bedbugs in these ragged sheets. Ren unearthed a tea bag and a tiny tin pot (was that supposed to be a kettle?) and lit the campfire between them.
“A bit humble, I know,” Ren admitted, with a chuckle. “I hope it’s not too lowly for your graciousness.”
Scott’s smile twitched. Oh, to get that stupid smug look off his face. Scott could never understand why people could think they were better than him because they had less.
“Oh, I’m getting used to the more… quaint lifestyle,” Scott said.
“Good. I’m glad. See, that clears up a lot of our issues then, eh?” Ren snickered. “I am sorry for my… prejudices. As I said, I was brought up to hate you nobles and lords. But we’re all in the same boat, so to speak, aren’t we?”
Scott hummed.
“I suppose we are.”
He must admit, Ren did interest him. Out of all the strangers, he was easily the oldest. Despite his eccentricities, that dash of maturity did show through. It was refreshing, after dealing with standard mortal riff-raff. And there was something more. Scott could feel it radiating off of him: a wise man– strange but clearly very dedicated in nature. Scott could feel himself drawn to him, and not just because of his handsome face and long, graying hair.
“So… tell me, nobleman. You complain about this life, but you chose it, no? You set out for adventure,” Ren looked up at him from the boiling pot. “Why not go back? Not all of us have a privilege such as that.”
Scott felt like the man was seeing right through him, but knew it had to just be in his head.
“Just because I chose it doesn’t mean I can’t complain,” Scott shrugged. “I love complaining.”
The old man’s laugh crackled like the fire he was tending.
“Ah, so you are a noble after all.”
They sat in relative silence as the tea was brewed. Scott tried to plan carefully, so he’d know just what cards to pull. Even though he kept catching whiffs of Ren’s blood, matured like a fine wine… god, he was not used to being this thirsty.
“Tell me– Scott, was it?”
Scott nodded, “Scott, yes.”
“Scott. Why did really come to my home at this hour?”
The question hung in the air, growing heavier the longer it remained unanswered.
“Well, I told you. I just had a feeling you’d be up, and I couldn’t sleep. Seems as good a time as any.”
Ren clearly didn’t believe him.
Scott figured it was only a matter of time until he had to show his hand.
“What if I told you I was a vampire,” Scott asked, “And came to drink your blood?”
Ren didn’t seem to react to Scott’s “joke,” until he said:
“Just like poor Avid was saying. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Scott’s eyebrows shot up. How obvious could he possibly have been? This was that stupid beacon’s fault.
“You wouldn’t?” he asked calmly.
“So you are, then?”
Scott sighed. Well, if he was doing this…
He stood.
“I am.”
Ren looked up at him, not standing to match his eye.
“And you’re gonna drink my blood, are you?”
“I am.”
Something about this man’s composure rattled him, he didn’t know what.
“Then why aren’t ye doing it?” he asked simply. Why wasn’t he? Scott honestly didn't know. But he had to answer quick, lest he lose further control of the situation. Best to go with what you know.
“Because you intrigue me,” he admitted. “You're smart. You know more than you let on, don't you?”
Behind his glasses, the flame reflected as a small twinkle in Ren's eye as the softest of smiles graced his lips.
“Aye,” he said. “I like to think so.”
“So why should I kill you?” Scott asked rhetorically. Why should he? Why shouldn't he? “It's… not that simple.”
The tea finished brewing. Ren said nothing as he began silently pouring it in two metal camping mugs.
Scott sat, as if ceding his control.
“Here, I'll level with you,” he lied. “I need human blood to live. But, well… I couldn't hurt any of you. You're all lovely.”
“Thank you kindly,” Ren responded, handing a mug to Scott. It smelled bland and cheap.
“I just need a little bit. Just to… satiate my hunger,” Scott said. “And out of everyone, I thought you would be the best to tell. I mean… everyone else seems to hate me or be dreadfully jumpy. But like I said: You're smart.”
“Smart enough to let a vampire suck my blood because he asked nicely?”
“Precisely.”
Ren raised an eyebrow. Scott leaned forward. God the smell of that blood… he had to focus.
“It’ll only be a bite, I promise,” Scott takes Ren’s wrist into his hand, running his thumb over his veins with a gentle pressure. “You’ll hardly feel it. But it would make all the difference for me.”
Ren seemed to think on this. He didn’t try to shake Scott’s grip on him, simply blowing on his tea and taking a small sip.
“Why should I trust you, nobleman?”
“You know nobles, Ren,” Scott smiled the same disarming smile that’d worked on Ren before. He spoke in a soft, soothing voice. A skill he’d honed and perfected over time. “We’re not earnest unless we have to be.“
That got a small laugh out of Ren.
“And if I were to let you, how can I know you won’t bleed me dry anyhow?”
“Look at me,” Scott scoffed, feigning modesty. “I’m weak. Especially since I haven’t eaten in so long. With strong arms like yours, you could easily fight me off if you had to.”
Ren was clearly charmed by the flattery. Now, when Scott leaned a little closer, Ren followed suit. Hook, line…
“Well, you won’t be drinking from my neck.”
Damn.
“Of course not. Your wrist will suffice,” Scott pressed down just slightly more. His voice continued to lull, “Come now… you must feel how your tea slowly warms your body. Imagine how you could make me feel.”
Ren thought.
“Think of it as first aid,” Scott rationalized. “Not a wound on you, but a balm for me.”
Then, quieter:
“Just a taste…” he continued. “A taste to steady me. A taste, that’s all,” each echo came softer than the last.
“You’re quite good at convincing,” Ren sipped that warm tea yet again. His expression was steady, but Scott could see his eyes softening. The hooks had been planted in his brain. “Makes me think you’ve done this before.”
“Never,” Scott said, technically telling the truth. He’d never really stoop this low. He could feel Ren’s pulse running beneath his finger. “To be honest with you, I’ve never been this desperate. Oh, please, Ren. Once you do it, you’ll feel lighter.”
Ren sighed softly. Come on, old man.
“Now, if I do this,” he said. “You will owe me an incredible debt.”
“Of course,” Scott agreed. That wouldn’t matter very soon.
Ren hummed.
“One taste,” he conceded. Scott brightened with a charming smile– sickeningly human excepting the sharp fangs which had now revealed themselves. Ren continued, “You’ll stop as soon as I ask you to.”
“Naturally,” Scott nodded, moving to kneel in front of Ren. He brought the man’s wrist close, taking a deep breath and sighing. God, maybe he was desperate. But you couldn’t blame him, Ren was at the perfect age for this. Aged, matured, but still fresh and rich with spirit. Perfectly ripe. Oh yes… he would be getting his fill.
Ren looked down at him, the fire’s soft orange light mingling on his face with the maroon glow that coated the town by nightfall. His pulse didn’t race. It was steady.
Scott took a bite. Ren yipped with pain, but Scott could hardly hear that over the sensation of the man’s hot, vinous blood filling his mouth. Delicious, sweet and ferrous with just a tinge of something like old mahogany. He couldn’t help the way he greedily sucked up more and more. He felt like he was a fresh vampire again, tasting human blood for the first time. Incredible, addictive, heavenly…
Ren’s breath had gone slightly ragged. His other hand, warm from holding his mug, rested on the back of Scott’s head. Eventually, he used it to pull Scott away.
“Enough,” he said, voice somewhat weak. Scott couldn’t help the primal hiss that escaped him as he was taken from his food, but Ren only tugged him back harsher, “Enough!”
Scott looked up at Ren, regaining his sensibilities. He peered from under his eyelashes, licking at his lips.
“You taste spectacular,” he stated. Ren huffed, as if amused. “Truly. A delicacy.”
“Flattery will only get you so far,” Ren replied, slightly breathless. “That’s enough.”
“Oh, Ren,” Scott said, needy but still with that stroke of pacification. “Please. At least let me lick up the rest.”
Ren hesitated, but relinquished his hold on Scott’s hair. Scott lapped at the bloody mess he’d made of Ren’s wrist.
“Your eyes,” Ren commented. “They’ve changed.”
“Yes,” Scott said softly, lips still brushing Ren’s skin. “Because I’ve finally fed. I can’t thank you enough.”
Ren took a steadying breath as Scott continued to run over his veins, muttering to him incidentally.
“Didn’t that feel good? You’ve helped me so much, you’re so kind. A hero. You must feel so nice and fuzzy inside…” his voice was oddly mollifying, and he could see the suggestions mingling with the wooziness behind Ren’s eyes. He stealthily began to suck at the puncture.
“Remember,” Ren’s peculiar voice had taken on a subtle rasp. “You are now indebted to me.”
“Yes,” Scott acquiesced. “Yes, of course. Oh, Ren…”
His eyes were wide, pleading.
“Won’t you just let me take a small bit more…? I won’t hurt you, I swear…”
Ren’s brows furrowed.
“Now, Scott–”
“Oh, please,” he begged, voice retaining that soft, mesmerizing melody.
Ren stared.
“Fine,” he sighed out. “Just one more. But that’s it.”
“Of course,” Scott smiled.
He slotted his fangs right back into the holes he’d made. He coaxed more out and, unbeknownst to Ren, slowly pumped in venom. He saw as it took effect, Ren’s eyes fluttering as if against sleep. He let out a long breath, and tension eased from his muscles. Perfect. Scott had truly found just the right role for this man. He drained him more and more, but Ren’s eyes just seemed to glaze over, making no move to stop him. Practically giving himself over. Scott was more than happy to drink until Ren was on the brink of consciousness.
Once he was, however, he pulled back. He lapped up those last few drops, then met Ren’s eye.
“Yes… that one felt very nice, didn’t it?” he soothed. Ren, lips parted, just nodded. “That’s right, it did. So nice, even, that you can’t wait to feel it again. Right?”
Ren nodded.
“I’ve done you a favor, haven’t I?”
Ren nodded.
“We can forget about that debt. Now you owe me, don’t you?”
Ren nodded.
“You’ll do anything for me, won’t you?”
Ren’s eyes fluttered again. This movement of his head was barely a nod.
“Good. That’s right. Remember that,” Scott knew he would. If all went right– which it did, Scott doesn’t make mistakes– he wouldn’t be able to forget as long as he lived. Lovely. It’d been so long since Scott had a thrall.
He took Ren by the arm and led him to his bed.
“Now, you should sleep,” he said, voice saccharine. Ren nodded as Scott gently removed his glasses. “Lay down, and get some rest.”
He guided Ren down to do so, and Scott could see him fading the moment his head found the pillow. He grinned, pulling the thin blanket over his shoulders.
“Goodnight, Ren. Dream of me.”