Work Text:
Varka checks his map one more time, confirming he was in the right spot. Undead creatures can't cross running water, but the vampire he is after lives on an island. This entire case is strange, the Knights had known the vampire existed for a while, but never bothered it.
Until it killed one of the knights. Which caused Varka, the top vampire hunter of the Knights to be sent to the scene.
Very few vampires leave their victims alive, but this one had a tendency to. It feasted on humans, yes, but with the intel Varka got from Nasha town, he is relatively sure that most of this particular vampire's prey are all willing participants. Still a vampire is a vampire and Varka has no intention on breaking his near perfect record.
He steps through the shallow water between him and the island, noting that it gets eerily silent almost immediately. The gravestones on the island shimmer and glow as he passes, walking towards the lighthouse.
Noises sound from down near the shore where he just came from, and he turns to see two wild hunt monsters appear. Their humanoid forms scrambling towards nothing, as if they were chasing after a phantom.
Varka readies his claymores and jumps into action, slicing clean through the two of them and hacking at them until they fizzle out into purple flames and then into nothing. He then stops, breathing heavily as a silvery ghostly form appears, bows slightly and then disappears just as fast.
He would stop and think about the fact that ghosts and vampires don't mix, but a low voice sounds out behind him.
"Ah… I see you have done my job for me."
Varka whirls around to see a tall man with purple and silver hair. He is dressed as a noble, everything immaculately designed in colors of purple, silver, and black. He holds a lantern in one hand and a spear in the other. Whats most unsettling are his eyes, golden with the pupils relaxed completely as if dead. The eyes of a vampire.
A very pretty vampire, but that's not relevant to Varka's mission.
Varka raises one of his weapons, placing the tip of the blade at the creature's throat. He watches as the vampire's eyes train on the blade and then move back to Varka's face. His expression doesn't shift in the slightest, as if this were a normal occurrence for him.
"Wonderful execution there, Wolf Knight. I must repay the kindness." The vampire continues. Varka is not entirely surprised that he knows who he is. He must be famous around the undead. "My name is Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins, care to come in for some wine?"
"I'm here for work." Varka says.
"Its a Mondstat vintage." Flins smiles, "It is correct to be wary of the creatures of the knight, but I really only drink red. The bottle will go to waste if someone doesn't drink it."
"Is this how you lure people in?" Varka asks. Flins uses two fingers to push Varka's claymore down, away from his face.
"Only the ones I find challenging." Flins says closing the distance between them, he leans in close dropping his voice. "I get the feeling you are not the type of man to back down from your mission so easily."
Then Flins turns and starts walking towards the lighthouse, as if he hadn't just hinted that he knew the reason behind Varka being there. Varka follows, almost running to catch up with the vampire's long strides. Heading right into a vampire's lair is considered a bad idea to most people, but Varka finds himself curious. After all, Flins hasn't attacked him yet. He hesitates when the vampire opens the door though.
Peering into the lighthouse, he can see nothing but darkness. He doesn't step through the threshold immediately.
"Are you secretly one of us, Knight Varka?" Flins teases, and edge of humor in his voice. "You are welcome in."
"I should play by your rules somewhat if I don't know the game." Varka says, but he steps inside. He watches as Flins takes off his cape and outer jacket, leaving him looking much smaller than before. He wears a purple shirt underneath, one that hugs his waist as if fitted to his form.
"I play no games, my Knight." Flins says, setting his spear next to the door. "I simply called you here for a drink."
Varka sets down his weapons by the door. He doesn't trust this vampire at all, but he isn't known to be particularly violent. He strips off his outer coat, and his armor, both of which will do nothing to protect him from this particular vampire should he become violent.
He looks around, the room inside the lighthouse is a small semicircle. It's split into two parts, a kitchen and dining which Varka doubts a vampire has much use for. A small sitting space, equipped with a nice couch and a coffee table. Varka invites himself onto the couch, exhaustion catching up to him the moment he sits down.
Still he tries to stay vigilant, and absolutely does not stare at Flins when he turns his back, rooting through the dusty kitchen. The vampire, even fully clothed still shows signs of being well built, though more for speedier weapons like spears rather than claymores. Varka wonders what it would be like should he battle with the vampire. Would he be as ruthless as the report said he would be? Or would he ease into the fight, all gentlemanly like he is doing at the moment.
How would such a fight end? Would it end with Varka winning, slicing through Flins's chest? Or would the vampire win? Would he pin Varka down with an inhuman strength, bite at his throat and drain Varka until he passed? Would he be more gentle, kissing at his neck before indulging on him. Would he-
"Here you are my Knight." Flins pours him a glass of dandelion wine. Varka swallows, shooing any errant thought from his mind.
"Y-yeah. Thank you." He says dumbly, hoping that his cheeks weren't as pink as he thought they were.
"Are you alright?" Flins asks, settling on the couch beside him. Without his coat, his legs look a lot longer especially as they cross over each other. Varka makes a valiant effort not to stare.
"Of course, I'm always at my best." Varka says, he coughs slightly. The lie feels weak even to him. Luckily, Flins doesn't pressure him on it. "You do know why I am here."
"To kill me, yes." Flins says, he then shrugs. "I will not pretend to be a match for you, Sir Varka. I am much weaker than other vampires you have fought."
Varka swirls around the wine in the glass before taking a sip. He lets the liquid wash over his tongue, the subtly sweet floral taste reminding him of much better days at home.
"I would like to hear your story." Varka says. He has a stake strapped to his thigh, he knows Flins can see it, but he will still hear the creature out. Mostly because the vampire hunter he killed was not known for his niceties.
Flins stares at him for a moment. "He offered to make a deal with me. My hunting method requires me to be in the know with a lot of people, while not being close to them. He wanted uh… he phrased it by saying leftovers. He misinterpreted my nature, and took my refusal as provocation."
"By your hunting method you mean?" Varka presses, though he already knows. From the blushing cheeks of the three 'victims' he could find, and their stammering words, he could make out he general idea.
"Seduction, usually," Flins says without blinking. "Humans taste much sweeter when they want something. Though usually I don't actually have to take them to bed."
"I see." Varka mentally notes that down, and takes another sip of his wine. His glass is getting low, and Flins takes it upon himself to refill it without his acknowledgement. "You are a strange vampire."
"I have been told that before." Flins laughs. "But you are a strange knight. Anyone else would have killed me without hesitation. You, at least attempted to hear me out."
"Maybe I'm a sucker for a pretty face." Varka murmurs, his tongue uncharacteristically loose for the amount of wine he has had.
Flins uncrosses his legs, leaning closer. "High praise coming from one such as yourself, my knight."
"Are you hunting me now? I know your methods." Varka downs the rest of his glass of wine. Flins moves closer, sitting right next to Varka.
"I did call you in here for a drink." Flins reminds him. He is close, much to close. Varka's heart pounds violently in his chest. The vampire's pupils shrink into slits, revealing his iris to be an inky black. His teeth sharpen, poking out over his bottom lip. "I believe I was upfront with my intentions."
Varka swallows, looking away as if it would help him gather his racing thoughts. He should kill the vampire right now, drive a stake through his heart and be done. There are several things he should be doing other than tilting his head and brushing the hair away from his neck.
"I have always been curious about this." Varka smiles. "Go ahead."
A flicker of surprise crosses the vampire's face. Flins presses closer, his hand reaching for Varka's waist. He presses his lips gently against the skin of Varka's throat, taking much more care than Varka expected of a hungry vampire. He suppresses a shiver that runs down his spine.
"Don't get too carried away." Varka warns, he tries to keep his breathing steady. The last thing he needs is for Flins to know exactly how much he is turning him on. He wonders for a brief moment if the vampire can tell when his blood is rushing south.
Flins chuckles softly, his hand moving down to Varka's thigh. When he speaks, his breath is hot against Varka's skin. "I can't promise that with you."
Then Flins bites down. The shock of pain makes Varka moan almost immediately. Its a strange sensation, having your blood drained from your body. He squirms slightly, only to have one of Flins's hands wrap around the other side of Varka's throat to keep him in place. Soon the pain from the bite turns into a blissful pleasure.
Flins pulls away, much too soon in Varka's opinion. The vampire's face is flushed a dark pink, his eyes still dark. He looks Varka in the eyes for only a moment before he's leaning back in, not for Varka's throat, but for his lips. The hand on his neck moves to his hair, the other pulls at the bottom of Varka's shirt.
"Woah." Varka presses against the vampire's shoulders, keeping him at arms length. "I said nothing about kissing."
Flins stares at him for a moment, a small trickle of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth before his tongue darts out to catch it, pulling the drop back into his mouth. The vampire closes his eyes as if to savor it before saying a single word. "Please?"
Varka blinks, he feels lightheaded already, a mixture of alcohol and blood loss. He's exhausted, his bones feeling heavy as if he were half asleep already. The wine really was a bad idea, because he can't see anything wrong with letting the vampire have his way.
"Alright, fine." Varka says. Flins eyes turn half lidded and then he's kissing Varka again. His bloodied tongue darting into Varka's mouth. Varka can taste a mixture of the dandelion wine and his own blood on his tongue. Flins's hands are clawing desperately at his shirt, and he pulls it off simply to get it out of his way.
"Lay back." Flins orders. Varka does as he says, letting the vampire settle on top of him. Flins bites at Varka's lip drawing blood that he quickly tongues back into his own mouth. The vampire moans softly, his fingers squeezing where they have landed on Varka's thighs.
Varka's cock strains against the fabric of his pants. He burns so much wherever Flins touches him. Especially when the vampire starts kissing down his chest, tongue pulling across his muscles, leaving a cool sensation that made Varka shiver. Flins makes it to his belt and then stops.
"What do you want?" Flins asks, his eyes flicking to Varka's face. Varka's heart stutters, Flins looks gone. His eyes glossy and half lidded, his cheeks a dark red. Varka wonders if this is why vampires kill, as to not be seen as vulnerable as Flins looks right now.
"I don't care just touch me." Varka finds himself saying. Flins pulls back away from him, getting off of the couch.
"Wait, what?" Varka asks confused. He misses the vampire's touch almost immediately.
"We will move to my room then." Flins says. "Come on my Knight, do not make me drag you there."
"As if you could." Varka challenges. Flins pulls him up off of the couch with ease. He probably couldn't carry Varka there, but he could certainly make due on his promise to drag him there. Varka decides to follow quietly to his room.
As soon as they enter the room, Flins is pressing him against the door, slamming their lips together in a renewed fervor. He backs them towards the bed turning them around so he could put Varka beneath him.
"Pants off." Flins orders.
"Only if you plan to undress." Varka says. The vampire eyes him for a second as if debating whether or not to argue. Then his fingers reach up and he starts peeling himself out of his shirt. Varka almost forgets that he has to undress as well, watching Flins slowly unveil more of his skin. Still he kicks off his pants and boxers, feeling cold and exposed.
Flins undresses completely as well. Varka lets his eyes roam over his skin, marred only by a few scars that might be from when he was living. Flins heads over to his nightstand and opens a drawer, taking a small bottle out.
"Are you sure you want me in charge, my knight? I plan to ruin you." Flins says. He gets on his knees between Varka's legs. Setting the bottle beside them on the bed. Varka swallows hard, and nods. Flins makes sure Varka's eyes are on him when he retracts his fangs. Using his hand to run down the length of Varka's cock.
Flins dips his head down, licking at the tip and using his hand to take care of the rest. Varka groans as Flins starts to take him deeper into his mouth. Swirling his tongue when it wasn't pressed down by Varka's length. Varka grabs at Flins's head with both hands, pressing him down further onto his cock. He moans as he feels Flins's throat constrict around him.
He then releases them as heat starts to build further and further in his gut. "Flins wait- Stop I'm- Ngh!"
He doesn't even finish his sentence before he's letting out a loud moan. Flins takes him down as far as he can, letting Varka spill down his throat.
"Fuck. sorry…" Varka says. The vampire simply wipes his mouth. If Varka didn't know any better, he would say Flins had a slightly deranged look in his eyes. He didn't get to see it for long though because Flins went right back to kissing him. Varka feels very very warm, both from the sex and from the affection the vampire is showering him with.
Flins's wandering hands feel strangely comforting. He roams around Varka's body, squeezing at his chest, kissing down his throat. Flins's own cock is neglected, the vampire seemingly focused entirely on Varka.
"More." Varka murmurs softly. Flins reaches for the bottle beside him, settling back on his knees. He keeps eye contact with Varka while he pours a small a mount of oil onto his fingers.
"Are you sure?" Flins asks.
"I'm not one to say things I don't mean." Varka says, he pulls his legs back a little, watching as the vampire zeros in on his ass. "Fuck me."
The vampire makes a strangled type of noise before pressing one of his fingers inside Varka's hole. Varka lets himself relax onto the bed, an effort thoroughly thwarted when Flins's other hand wraps around his cock.
"You-" Varka starts, but is cut off when Flins finds his prostate. He lets his head fall completely against the pillows, his breathing turning sharp. Flins adds another finger slowly pulling him open.
"You look beautiful like this my Knight." Flins's voice is strange now. Layered as if there were two of him speaking at once. His eyes seem to flicker a blue as if they were catching fire. Varka knew vampires could revert to their true form, but he'd never seen one do it without malicious intent. Flins seems to be barely holding on to his human form.
"Beautiful? That's a new one." Varka says between breathy moans. He's already barely holding on and he hasn't even had Flins inside him yet. Flins's hand around his cock is almost making him orgasm again, despite how little time Flins has given him to recover.
"Yes." Flins says, "Seeing a man as powerful as you fall beneath my fingers, its-" Flins takes a shuddering breath, his form flickering slightly to a darker more unstable body before he regains control of himself. "its truly a privilege."
Flins releases Varka's cock, removing his fingers from his ass. He pours more oil on his hand slicking up his own cock before he lifts Varka's hips and lines himself up with Varka's hole and starts to press in. Varka's eyes roll back as inch by inch Flins fills him up, the burn only secondary to the electric pleasure that runs thought his entire body.
Flins's form flickers further, a darker form concealed in a blue flame appearing and disappearing as Flins tries to regain control of himself. He presses messy kisses to Varka's face, missing his lips half the time.
"Can I please move?" Flins's voices are now shaky with the effort of holding himself together.
"Yes." Varka says. Only a second later Flins pulls out almost all the way and slams back in pulling a scream from Varka's throat. He grips onto the sheets below as the vampire trusts into him setting a merciless pace. Its all Varka can do to keep himself grounded enough to not come there and then.
He watches as Flins looses his composure completely, half of his body bursts into the blue flames. An inhuman howling sound mixing in to his breathy moans. He shifts slightly, enough to hit Varka's prostate just a little harder. Which is all it takes for him to crumble in the vampire's arms.
He sees stars as he cums again, untouched but satisfied. Flins keeps up his pace, even when Varka claws him down to kiss him. Flins obliges, then moves on to nip at Varka's throat his fangs elongating once more. Varka tilts his head easily for the vampire allowing him to bite into his flesh.
Flins does, and at the same time he cums, painting Varka's insides white. The vampire shudders as he fucks himself through his orgasm. When he pulls back, his mouth his messy and bloody.
"You are a delicious last meal." Flins purrs, his vampiric form disappearing. If Varka had the wherewithal to process those words he would have. Instead he nods lazily and passes out.
~*~
The next morning, Varka finds himself alive and feeling better than he has in a long time. Beside him sleeps Flins, his chest rising and falling slowly. He really is beautiful. Varka wishes he could stay by his side a little longer, maybe go for another round. Still he has the knights to get back to, and explain… well some of what happened.
He looks around to find a glass of water laid out for him along with some small snacks that looks suspiciously like rationed food. He gathers his clothes and drinks the water, sitting on the edge of the bed. He's not looking forward to the report he has to do. This would be the first time he's failed to kill a vampire in over five years.
He's in the middle of his musings when Flins stirs behind him. He turns to see the vampire placing a hand against his chest and then looking confused at Varka.
"I'm… alive?" He asks.
"You acted in self defense." Varka shrugs. "No noble Knight would harm someone who just wants to protect."
Flins blinks once. "I hurt you. I made you pass out, I took way too much."
Varka laughs softly. "Then apologize to me the next time I visit. I might have to do check ins, to make sure you don't get into any mischief."
"Ah. I will attempt to keep myself out of trouble then." Flins smiles lazily. "I look forward to your next visit."
"As do I"
