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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

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Dee, Chapter 1: Under the Sunset

Under the Sunset - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Rated M - CW: vampirism, blood drinking, violence, injuries, dubious consent (thrall is a helluva drug) - WC: 2337

Count Dracula is wealthy, powerful, and lives in a cold, beautiful castle nestled in the Carpathian mountains. Over his centuries on earth, he's been known by many names. Nosferatu. Vlad Țepeș. Draquo. The Count.

But Virgil came to call him Dee. ---

Dee tugged at the hood of his cloak with a gloved hand, shading his eyes as he wandered through the bustling market crowd. It was late afternoon, and the sun had dipped low on the horizon that crisp fall day, the long shadows providing him a respite from the uncomfortable, but not lethal rays. Dee chuckled to himself as he melted into the throng. The myth that vampires would be killed by sunlight, as opposed to merely irritated, had helped provide him with many delightful meals.

Such as today’s.

Dee had found him dragging a struggling young woman into a darkened cellar. Distracted by his own efforts to muffle the poor thing’s cries for help, the man hadn’t noticed Dee until he’d grabbed him from behind, fangs a breath away from his tart, sweat-covered skin. Dee raised his eyes over the man’s shoulder and glared at the young woman, frozen in front of them with her mouth hung open. “Run,” he’d ordered in a whisper before sinking his hungry teeth into her would-be assailant’s neck. Dee drained him, then let his limp body fall down the stone cellar steps.

Sated, Dee still couldn’t help the heady giddiness that threatened to overtake him as the hot, sweet scent of flesh and blood and life surrounded him on every side. The warmth of the early autumn sun discouraged most shoppers from wrapping themselves in too many layers and Dee took pleasure in the sights and smells of of the vitality moving past him, all within hands’ reach.

The pleasure turned to a subtle, empty ache, though, as the approaching dusk called families indoors and drew lovers both young and old outside. As he glided through the marketplace, Dee fought to ignore the gnawing yearning in the center of his chest as he passed couple after couple walking hand-in-hand, fingertips grazing pulse points, nervous heartbeats racing. His skin itched as the pairs drew close to each other, trading soft glances and furtive kisses in the crowd, or exchanging more in shadowed alleyways.

He reached the outer edge of the marketplace, far from the vendors selling ale or smoked fish or sweets. He turned left past a merchant selling cups and bowls and encountered three more vendors’ booths.

The first was a large fishmonger’s stand, bordered by long, heavy oaken tables covered in buckets of fresh, swimming trout from the nearby creek. At the other end was an old woman selling charms, the soft dusk scattered through an array of hanging crystals, the light falling across her face and wares in a sparkling rainbow, undulating in the breeze. She glanced at Dee and quickly looked away, holding a small reddish crystal close to her chest.

Nestled between the two, tucked into a tiny stand no more than two feet wide, hunched a young man in a roughly knit wool tunic and downcast eyes. Spread before him on his table was a small bounty of mushrooms and roots and nuts, each carefully gathered in piles on hand-woven hemp cloths. The fishmonger suddenly guffawed next to them and the merchant looked up, pushing his unruly black hair from his face. Dee’s hands twitched and he tucked them into his cloak before they could reach out of their own accord to discover if his wavy locks felt as soft as they looked.

The man became aware of Dee’s attention. “Good evening, my lord. I have fresh truffles and nettles. What do you seek?”

Dee’s tongue dragged against his teeth. He could almost feel the man’s neck beneath them. He took a deep breath, inhaling the earthy, floral scents of his wares. And the musky, human scents of his flesh.

“I’ll have some of each,” Dee murmured. He tried to catch the man’s eyes, but his gaze was focused on the healthy-sized bundles he deftly assembled.

Dee stepped closer. That’s when he caught sight of a small infant sleeping in a trundle behind the young man. He stiffened and leaned away from the merchant. “I did not realize you were a father. You look so young.”

The young man blushed and shook his head. “Oh, no… this is my brother. My mother has a cold and I’m watching him today.”

Wrapping his cloak tighter around himself, he leaned away from the vendor. Dee did not meddle with children. “I… I see.” He focused his eyes on the merchant’s hands, noticing the mushrooms had stained the tips of the thumb and first two fingers on his left hand.

The vendor chuckled lightly, “You haven’t even asked me how much I want for these.”

Dee retrieved a handful of coins from his purse and set them on the table next to the man’s long-fingered hands. “Will this suffice?” Dee asked. The man froze, staring at the small stack of gold coins.

“Surely that’s too much, my lord.”

He still would not raise his eyes. Dee stepped closer and let one gloved hand rest on the edge of the faded, scratched table between them. “I don’t usually make it to the market early in the day. Perhaps this amount would persuade you to save something for me?”

“I will be here next week,” he said, passing the little bundles to Dee. Finally, the man looked up at him for the tiniest of moments and Dee sucked in a breath at the brilliant violet color of his eyes.

“As will I,” he said, then turned and slipped away.

---

Dee returned the next week, and so did the forager. Again, he purchased a small packet of truffles and nettles. Again, he overpaid.

Soon the days began to grow longer and the rainy season ended. And still, Dee travelled to the market weekly, stopping by the forager’s stand at the end of each visit.

This week, the man spotted Dee first. “My lord!” he called in a clear, musical voice that thrummed through Dee’s bones. He swallowed back his growl. He looked up, and with effort, kept his teeth behind his lips. The man lowered his eyes as soon as Dee approached, and beckoned him closer.

“No mushrooms today—the earth was too dry. But I can offer you dandelion roots, berries, and this—” He held a delicate dark green sprig of tiny yellow blossoms. “Honeysuckle,” he said, passing one to Dee. “Smell…”.

Dee gripped his hand, raising it up to until his breath ghosted against the man’s skin, but all he could smell was his blood pumping underneath the thin skin at his wrist. His own hand trembled as he lowered the man’s wrist. “Enticing.” He cleared his throat and took a step back.

The vendor wrapped his purchases and Dee again paid far too much. After he accepted the bundles, secreting them away in the folds of his cloak, again the vendor briefly met his eyes and asked, “What else can I help you find this evening, my lord?”

Dee bit his tongue until he tasted his own blood. “Just your name.”

He smirked. “Dandelion roots and my name, all for five gold coins?” Dee counted the beats of the man’s pulse under the tender skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

“And fresh honeysuckle,” Dee murmured.

“Yes, and fresh honeysuckle,” He laughed, a bright, musical sound that speared through Dee’s chest and danced across his skin. “Virgil. My name is Virgil.”

“Virgil,” Dee repeated. He wondered if the man tasted as delicious as his name. “I am—”

“The Count, yes,” he interrupted, still smirking. “I know, my lord.”

---

Dee let the wind catch the edge of his cloak, billowing out and away from his ankles as he approached Virgil’s booth. He spared a quick glance to the Hunter who’d been trailing him since he’d arrived at the market that afternoon, ensuring he hadn’t lost him in the crowd. This part of the market was always quieter and he thought the Hunter should be able to relax a bit now. Dee smiled to himself.

They tasted sweeter when they were calm.

“I have chestnuts today, my lord, and more truffles and berries.” Dee nodded, placing a few coins on the table.

Just then, Dee noticed a small child, no more than four years old, playing with a stack of stones behind the man. “Do you have another brother?” he asked, watching the boy repeatedly stack and topple the stones.

Virgil flicked his eyes up at Dee, brow furrowed. He shook his head with a little smile. “No, my lord, this is Dimitrie. You met him before, a long time ago.” A flush dusted his cheeks. “The first time you shopped with me.”

The young boy now stood next to Virgil. Dee avoided looking closely at his face and his eyes. He blinked down at the clasp on his cloak, recalling the tiny bundle that had lain in the back of Virgil’s stand the day they’d met. “He is no longer an infant. Y—they age so quickly.”

Laughing lightly but keeping his eyes down as he prepared Dee’s purchase, he smirked. “Yes, my lord. Children grow.” He nudged the boy, “Frățior, don’t stare. Go play….”

Virgil finished packaging Dee’s herbs, then leaned in with a small smirk, “I have also learned that the cloth trader has too much silk on hand this week. A buyer backed out and she must quickly sell it to repay a loan.” He risked a quick glance up. “She might be willing to bargain.”

“Hmm…. I will have to see what she has on offer.” Dee tucked his parcels away in the pockets hidden under his cloak. “Tell me, Virgil…” his name felt smooth on his tongue. “What's your favorite color?”

“Mine, my lord?”

Dee waited.

“Purple. And… and gold... like your—like your eyes.” The man looked up at him through thick, black eyelashes. “My lord.”

Dee smiled, hiding his teeth. For a brief moment, he let the man's scent of earth and sweat and berries wash over him. He exhaled slowly.

"Tell me, Virgil, why share with me the desperation of your fellow shopkeeper? Surely you have a greater shared interest with her, a fellow merchant, than with me, one whose purse may buy your next"—his tongue flicked out, wetting his lips and tasting the musk-sweetened air around him—"meal?”

Virgil laughed, "Or perhaps I trust you’ll simply use whatever money you save on silks with the merchant who helped save you a few coins. You never know how someone might wish to repay a small favor."

Dee threw his head back and laughed.

"It appears you have considered every angle, then."

He bowed his head, paid a little extra for the packet of chestnuts, and began to turn away to visit the silk merchant. “My lord—” Virgil leaned over the table and gripped the edge of his cloak, knuckles white. “Forgive me, but…” He waited until Dee drew closer and he lowered his voice. His eyes shifted from side to side, looking in every direction except past Dee’s shoulder. “My lord, you are being followed.” Dee tilted his head, giving the young man all of his attention.

“There is a man, wearing a black cloak with a red lining. He’s been loitering since you arrived, staring at you.”

“Does he have an emblem”—he pinched the neck of his own cloak—”about here? With a cross and a spear?” Virgil glanced up quickly then nodded, returning his gaze to the scratched table between them.

“Yes, my lord. How did you know?”

Dee smiled. “He is my dining companion tonight.” He stroked Virgil’s hand where he still gripped his cloak. “Your concern is endearing, but misplaced. I have nothing to fear from him.” Slowly, Virgil released his hold.

“That is reassuring, my lord. Good evening, then.”

“Good evening, Virgil mea.” Dee lifted his hand, kissing his knuckles. “See you next week.”

He walked slowly toward the silk merchant. Dee didn’t want to somehow lose his Hunter tail in the crowd. When he arrived at the stand draped in silks and cloths of every description, he set down a small pile of gold coins. "I have a special order, my dear."

She counted the coins before facing him. "Surely, my lord, this is too much. You don't want me to leave this transaction with a reputation for swindling unskilled noblemen."

"That will not be a problem," he purred, brushing his hand over hers and scooping the coins into her palm. Finally, she looked up and nearly dropped the gold.

"Count!" She met his eyes briefly, sucking in a sharp breath and stepping back. "My apologies, I did not—”

"Shhhh, my dear," he soothed. "It is quite alright. You’ve done no wrong." She met his eyes again and was transfixed. "I have a request to make of you. I need a scarf. Silk. In purple… and gold."

She gestured toward a line of scarves. “Is there a pattern you like, Count?” He trailed his gloved hand along the scarves.

“Make it unique.” He met her eyes again and his voice deepened. “Make it beautiful.”

She bowed her head, “Of course, my lord. I will begin work on it immediately.”

Dee turned from her table and met the eye of the Hunter who had been following him all afternoon. “Now, then. Thank you for being so patient while I finished my shopping.” The Hunter froze, eyes wide, caught in the first pull of the thrall. His hand hovered over a small holster at his belt. Dee reached for the stunned human, suddenly standing close enough to cup his face with his gloved hand. “And what is your name, Pet?”

He blinked and worked his mouth. Finally he whispered, “Andrey, my lord.”

“Andrey…” Dee rolled the name around his mouth and snaked his arm behind the Hunter’s cloak. His hand came away, a sharp wooden stake resting in his palm. “Now, now, my pet… you won’t be needing this anymore.” He dropped the stake on the ground as Andrey returned his smile. Dee offered his arm. “Shall we?”

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#Dee #sanders sides fanfic #anxceitweek21 #ts janus #dee #ts virgil #Virgil Lamia #vampire/human/werewolf au #they're vampires‚ y'all‚ read with caution and skip it if that's not your jam :)#cw blood #continuation of Beside Me #AnxceitWeek 21 Day 1-Family #anxceit

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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

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Dee, Chapter 4: In the Valley of the Shadow

Prev - In the Valley of the Shadow - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Rated M - CW: vampirism, blood drinking, violence, injuries, dubious consent (thrall is a helluva drug) - WC: 5654 --- "He is indeed alive; and thus alone I must show him the dark valley; necessity induces us, and not pleasure." - The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri, Canto 12, line 85

“I will always be with you, my darling. Always.”

Dee’s soft voice was still lilting through Virgil’s mind when he woke. He lay in a soft bed, cocooned in a heavy blanket that smelled like nettle tea and … was that honeysuckle? He blinked a few times at the flickering shadows dancing across the ceiling. The pop and crackle of wood burning in the fireplace filled the room, as did the faint rush of wind through the trees somewhere outside. He shook his head.

His family burned peat, not wood, and peat didn’t crackle when it burned. This was not his home. This was not his bed.

That's when Virgil remembered.

"Dragă,"The Count's sleep-roughened voice was in his ear. "You're awake."

This was his home now.

Virgil twisted around to face him. "Ye—yes, my lord, er, Dee," he quickly corrected at the frown that had tugged at his sire’s dark lips. He shuddered at the heat in his golden eyes.

Dee's brow furrowed and he drew the covers closer around him. "Are you cold, my darling?"

"No," he whispered, the aching tightness in his chest easing as he moved closer to Dee. "I—I just feel—” He shook his head, mouth working to find the words. “I need…" Smiling knowingly, Dee stroked his cheek and Virgil gasped, leaning into his touch.

"Oh, love… You're feeling the pull between us growing." Dee hummed and slipped one arm under and around Virgil's side and back, settling him against his chest. "I feel it, too, Dragă.” He stroked Virgil’s hair, smile growing as he relaxed against his shoulder. “I should have…” He sighed. “It—it must be difficult when you don't know to expect it."

The closeness melted the last of the ice he'd felt growing behind his sternum and in his veins and he let out a low sigh, sinking into his embrace. "Better?" Dee asked, drawing his hand through Virgil's hair and kissing his forehead.

"Much," Virgil whispered, his voice cracking as he nuzzled against the crook of his neck.

"You’ll always be safe with me," Dee murmured, pressing kisses into his hair, down his temple, across his cheek. "I'll never be too far from you, Dragă," he whispered against Virgil's lips before laying him back against the bed and swallowing his response with a hungry kiss.

Virgil's eyes shot open, his breath catching in his throat. It had taken nearly a century for him to stop having nightmares about Dee every time he slept. The dreams that still plagued him were infrequent enough that he'd nearly forgotten how shaken they would leave him when he woke.

Nearly.

He let his eyes fall closed and lay back in the bed, the quiet rush of evening midtown traffic filtering up to his penthouse apartment on the 40th floor. Exhaling, he cracked open his eyes again. Judging by the length of the shadows tracing the ceiling, it was early evening, just barely dusk.

Virgil noticed his palm was warm, his fingers curled through Remus' thick, wild mane. He smiled, the last of his dream slipping from his mind and his heart as he watched his sleeping Prince. Remus shifted, brow furrowed, so Virgil gently dragged the pads of his fingers against his scalp, easing him back into a deeper sleep. Still smiling, Virgil stretched out his arm out to his other side, reaching for Logan. He touched empty sheets.

He sat up, listening. There was a faint panting coming from downstairs. He kissed the side of Remus' head and slipped out of bed, wrapping his purple silk robe around himself as he left his room.

He stood on the balcony overlooking the rest of his penthouse and spotted a shadow shifting near the bookcases. The noise he'd heard earlier was definitely Logan, and he sounded hurt.

Virgil flew down the stairs and to Logan's side. "L?" The old nickname slipped off his tongue like honey. Or blood.

Logan was dressed in a long-sleeved top, heavy joggers, two pairs of socks, and Virgil's thick hoodie. He lay curled in a ball, arms wrapped around himself, shaking and struggling to breath. He was surrounded by a dozen dusty books and held a small notepad against his chest.

"My star, what are you doing?" Logan just shook his head and edged closer to Virgil, laying his head in his lap. The older vampire picked up one of the books and scanned the page Logan had been reading.

Logan had penciled notes in the margins and even underlined portions, his ordinarily careful printing degenerating into a barely legible scrawl as he'd progressed. Finally, he abandoned words altogether and had printed three large, shaky exclamation points near the end of one passage. Virgil read what he had marked. "'’...other techniques to delay feeding have been tried throughout the years, but few have been found to be successful. Even substituting another vampire’s blood has been found to have long term deleterious effects for both sire and sired—'"

Shaking his head and swearing, Virgil set down the book. He whispered to Logan as he pulled him into his arms, cradling his head against his shoulder. "L… it's alright to need to feed. Why didn't you wake me? We’ll all go to Emile's together…" He brushed the backs of his fingers against Logan's cheek. The new vampire's lips parted and he turned his head, chasing Virgil's wrist. "Come," he murmured, drawing Logan up to his feet. "Have some juice and then we'll wake Remus and get ready."

He settled Logan into a seat at the long, shiny wraparound bar in the kitchen and retrieved two glasses and a bottle from the refrigerator. "Drink, but slowly. It helps."

Logan hunched over the glass, sipping the sweet juice. His hands gradually stilled and his shoulders stopped shaking. After a few minutes, he was able to look up and meet Virgil's eyes. "I apologize. I—I was hoping to at least wait until tomorrow."

"No, no, no, no, my star." He shook his head and stood next to Logan, holding him against his chest. "We do not need to be prisoners in a gilded cage on this day."

"But I know how difficult—”

Virgil gently shushed him, tilting up his chin and pressing a soft kiss against lips that tasted like pineapples and coffee. "No, L. You needn't worry about tonight." He leaned in and kissed him again, fingers lacing together behind his neck. Logan moaned into his mouth, then stood and pulled him closer.

"You snooze, you lose, huh?" Remus laughed from the edge of the kitchen. They broke apart, and Logan blushed and took another sip of his drink.

Virgil smirked, "You're more than welcome to join us, my Prince, but we were about to wake you so we can go to Emile's." Virgil glanced quickly at Logan, eyes tracing the slight tremor that had returned to his hands and his mouth.

Remus noticed as well. "Oh, Logan…" He moved closer and brushed his hair from his eyes. "Can I… help you? Do you need some before—”

Logan let out a shaky breath, pressing his lips together even as his mouth was drawn to his hand. He shook his head, turning away from Remus’ exposed skin. "I can’t take from you. You need to feed, as well." He looked up and met Virgil’s eyes, "You both do, after…."

Grinning, Remus offered a hand to Logan and winked at Virgil. “Unless we’re going like this, we’d better get ready, then.”

Shaking his head, Logan laughed weakly and accepted his hand. Virgil hummed as he stroked Remus' hip and took in his mostly bare skin. “You’re definitely in defiance of Emile’s dress code, my Prince.” He put away the juice and smiled at the pair. “Go ahead and get ready. I’ll be right up.”

“I’ll be gone for only a few hours, Dragă,” Dee murmured, leaning over to brush a lock of sleep-swept hair from Virgil’s face. “You don’t have to come with me, if you do not wish it.”

The thin winter’s sunlight had just begun to peek over the horizon, but it was enough to see the sheen of tears growing in Virgil’s eyes. “I’m afraid to go, but I’m more afraid to stay here without you.” He let out a shuddering sigh, “Can we really trust him not to tell everyone in the village who he’s trading with?”

“Completely,” Dee murmured, offering his hand when Virgil threw back the covers on the bed and sat up, swinging his feet down to stand in front of Dee. “He’s a friend.”

Virgil stood and straightened the blankets on the bed, hands shaking as he smoothed the covers flat before tugging at his nightshirt. “And we can trust him to deliver the gold to my mother?”

“I’ve already arranged for him to purchase from her,” Dee smiled, “And to pay triple her asking price. Apparently she thinks he’s just a passing trader with more money than sense.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “That’s what I used to think of you.” He worked at a knot in the shirt's lacing. “Has he seen her?” Virgil whispered, not looking at Dee.

Dee lifted Virgil’s chin and nodded slowly. “He said she hides her scar but that she's healthy and strong.” He brushed back Virgil’s hair from his face. “Time heals.”

Nodding, Virgil blew out a quick breath and continued to undress. He twisted in his shirt, fighting with a sleeve. Virgil shivered when Dee's fingers brushed his bare shoulder as he helped.

"Is it cold for you, Dragă? I can—” He turned toward the small log rack next to the fireplace but Virgil's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and turning to face him.

"I'm not cold," he said. Virgil tugged at his wrist and Dee stepped closer, forcing his gaze back up to his eyes and away from the way his skin glowed in the dying firelight. Virgil’s eyes were fixed on his mouth and he lunged forward, crushing their mouths together, nicking Dee’s lip with his fangs. He lapped at the blood, then laced his fingers behind Dee’s neck, drawing him closer into their kiss.

Breathless, he suddenly broke away, staring up into Dee’s eyes. He trembled when Dee traced the line of his neck, lingering over his scars. “You’ve been… patient with me. And I… I never even said thank you for… for stopping me.”

Dee frowned and shook his head, one arm curled around Virgil’s waist, the other dragging through his hair. “You never needed to, dragă mea.” Dee’s voice caught in his throat. Virgil tilted his head toward Dee’s, pressing their foreheads together as he caught his breath.

Virgil leaned in to kiss him again, slower and softer this time. He draped trembling arms over Dee’s shoulders, and soon his mouth trailed down, his kisses growing fiercer, teeth grazing his neck.

"Virgil," Dee's whisper froze his movements. The young vampire held his breath. "Dragă, you are hungry. Please… let me help you…." Dee bared his wrist again and Virgil pounced.

After a few minutes, Virgil broke away. Dee retrieved a black handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped the blood from Virgil's mouth. He then wiped his own wrist, the wounds already closing.

He cupped Virgil's cheek and stared into eyes, the pupils again small enough to show his violet irises. "Better, my love?"

Virgil’s tongue darted over his teeth and he breathed deeply. His gaze was more focused, his hands grown steady. He nodded and hung his head. "Yes," he whispered, voice cracking.

Dee lifted his chin then brought both hands to his face. "Dragă, you have nothing to be ashamed of." He kissed away the crease in Virgil’s brow. “Come, let’s get you ready.”

“V? Are you ready?”

Virgil shook away the memory and took a deep breath. Logan stood in front of the closet, dressed in black slacks and a matching shirt, a green vest and his purple and blue striped tie. His hands were wrapped in purple silk. “You have my scarf.”

Logan looked down at the scarf in his hands and looped it over Virgil’s neck. “It complements your suit.”

Virgil smirked, stroking Logan’s tie. “I think you’re just working me up into wearing more neckties.”

Grinning, Logan gripped the scarf and pulled him in for a kiss. “Turnabout is fair play, after all.”

“What?” Remus called from across the room, feigning outrage as he tossed their jackets on the bed. He slipped behind Logan, hands on the other's hips. He drew little circles with his thumbs and kissed the top of his head. “I missed another one?”

Virgil laughed as Logan ducked away and put on his jacket while Remus pulled at the scarf to bring him closer for his own kiss. After a few minutes, he hummed, winking at Logan as he twirled his fingers through the purple silk. “This was a good idea.”

Picking up their jackets, Logan tugged both of their hands toward the door. "To Emile's, then?"

---

Logan held open the heavy wooden door, and Virgil and Remus stepped into the velvet darkness of the club. At the sound of their entry, Emile looked up and waved to them from behind the bar, then resumed preparing a tray of drinks. Logan stepped through and Emile looked up again. This time, his eyes widened, meeting Logan’s for the first time. Virgil rested his hand at the small of his back and clasped Remus’, drawing him closer, ignoring the sea of whispers their arrival seemed to spark.

Virgil raised one eyebrow at Emile, who, with a tilt of his chin, directed the trio to the same table in the back where they’d sat the last time they’d visited. They slid around the seats at what was rapidly becoming their table. Ignoring the open stares and furtive whispers from the rest of the club, Logan’s face was stone, head held high, the healing puncture wounds on either side of his neck clearly visible. Virgil stroked his thigh when his knee started to bounce under the table. “It’s alright, L….”

His face softened into a smile at the nickname. Remus leaned over, a wild grin splitting his face as he reached for Logan’s hand where it rested on the table. “Hey, I could always run out on the dance floor and start a scene. See how seriously Emile enforces that dress code…” He waggled his eyebrows. “Give them something to really gawk at.”

“That is quite unnecessary, Remus… However…” he smirked. “I appreciate the offer.”

Emile approached, carrying three glasses and two bottles. “Virgil,” he murmured, looking significantly at Logan. His gaze lingered on the differences between the bite marks on either side of Logan’s neck, then he looked closely at Remus and Virgil. “Oh… You both sired him….”

Logan sat up straighter, flipping his hair back out of his eyes and meeting Emile’s gaze. “I asked them to. Do you have some moral objection?”

Emile smiled, pouring juice for Remus and Virgil, then holding both bottles before Logan to choose. Logan nodded at the whiskey. “None at all, merely surprised at the speed with which our dear Virgil here has sired another.” He peered closely at the trio. “You all look thirsty.” He grinned, “You’ve come to the right place, then. Tonight, especially. We’re always swimming in aficionados on Halloween.” Emile casually glanced around the club, the extra costumed humans in ample evidence. “You’ll have your pick.”

“Is Remy here tonight?” Logan asked, a small smile tugging up one corner of his mouth. Virgil hid a grin behind his glass.

Stifling a chuckle, Emile pretended to check the time on his wrist. “It’s early. He’s likely still around. I’ll send him over.” He looked closely at Virgil and leaned over the table, voice low. “I have to admit, I am a little surprised to see you here on this night, Virgil.” He waved a hand at the crowd of humans, many with powdered faces, black capes, and plastic fangs. “I thought you abhorred the reminder from the… sparkly vampire spectacle.”

Virgil drew one hand through Logan’s hair and pulled Remus closer with the other. He smiled. “There are more important things to be concerned with this evening than old ghosts.”

As soon as Emile left their table, Remus leaned in closer and whispered, “I’m missing something, aren’t I? Halloween? Remy?”

Virgil exchanged a quick glance with Logan and nodded. “Yes, this is the same Remy from your last time here.”

Remus’ brow furrowed and he exchanged a look with Logan at the way Virgil ignored the first part of his question. Logan subtly shook his head so he let it go for the moment. “Is he a friend? That night's a little fuzzy but… you seemed to not really like each other.”

Logan sighed, shifting in his seat. “Remy did not like me for my… human relationship with Virgil.”

“Babes, I knew my ears were burning for a reason…” A low voice drawled from the opposite side of their table. Remy leaned over the back of Logan’s seat and brushed his thumb along his jaw. Logan’s mouth fell open, lips trembling. “My, my, Logan, what big teeth you have.”

Remus started to shake as Remy’s hot scent wafted over to him at the far end of the table. He didn’t know how Logan could stand to be so close without grabbing him and driving his teeth into the man's warm flesh.

“The better to taste you with, my dear.” Logan’s voice was rough, his eyes trained on Remy’s exposed throat. “Would you like a closer look?”

Remy grinned, sliding into the seat next to Logan. “I thought you’d never ask, L.”

“I did not give you permission to call me that,” Logan growled and, before Remy could blink, straddled his lap, gripping the human’s jacket with both hands and sinking his teeth into his willing neck.

Remus breathed heavily and closed his eyes. Virgil pulled him closer, letting him rest his head against his shoulder. His long fingers trailed through Remus’ hair, grounding him.

He murmured in Virgil’s ear. “Thank you, I…”

Nodding, Virgil kissed the top of his head, eyes trained on what he could see of Remy, watching for any sign of distress. It would be difficult for Remy to stop Logan from underneath him. “I understand, my Prince,” he whispered back. “Just a bit longer, then we’ll take care of you.”

“I can wait, I’m okay,” Remus panted a bit, but nodded. “I’m okay, really.”

After several minutes, Remy’s grip on Logan’s shoulder tightened nearly imperceptibly and Virgil slid closer, slipping his hand between them and pressing against Logan’s chest. He spoke softly, but with a power that made both Logan and Remus shudder. “L, let him go.”

With a low growl, Logan released Remy's throat and let Virgil pull him back.

“Damn, Babe, that was worth the wait.” He leaned hard against the backrest, breathing heavily, a huge smile cut across his face. “Virgil, you didn’t need to stop him.” He panted, his drawl thick and skin paler than usual. He blew a kiss at Remus, who licked his teeth as he eyed the thin trail of blood crawling down his neck. “I could've gone for more.”

“Yes, you could always go for more until you're dead.” Virgil wrapped his arm around Logan, laying his head against his shoulder and rubbing circles on his back as he stared fuzzily into the candles on the table. “I will not allow you to reach that limit with any of us.”

“Oh, Babe,” he raised his eyebrow over his sunglasses at Virgil. “Does that mean I get to have you next?” Virgil scowled and pushed his half-drunk glass of juice toward Remy. He lifted it to his lips with a shaking hand, muttering, “Cheers, Babes.” He finished the juice in one gulp and slid the emptied glass back toward Virgil.

“Thanks, that hit the spot. See you next time!” he said, cracking his neck. Remy turned, sliding past couples on the dance floor. He walked slowly, and there was a small tremor in his hands.

Virgil kept Logan cradled against his chest and watched Remy as he made his way to the bar where Emile checked him over. He settled him at one end and poured him a large glass of orange juice. Virgil nodded and returned his attention to Logan and Remus when Emile waved and smiled back at him.

Remus was holding both Virgil’s and Logan’s hands, watching Logan carefully. Logan’s eyes were unfocused but he blinked and smiled blearily back at them. “You feel okay, there, Lo?”

“I was worried about you afterwards, too,” he mumbled, still smiling. “It’s… “ Logan’s voice trailed off and both Virgil and Remus watched him, exchanging a quick relieved smile that he was—mostly—well enough to speak. “It is… different. The books… the books said…” This time when his voice trailed off, Logan sighed with a tiny smile and let his eyes fall closed.

Remus chuckled and sipped at his juice, then passed his glass to Virgil. “He researched this?”

Virgil smiled, looking down at Logan, tracing the soft arc of his eyebrows. “He researched this.”

After a few minutes, Emile made his rounds and refilled their glasses. Virgil sat back and scanned the club floor. The dance floor was crowded with couples and polycules dancing together, some human-vampire groups, some exclusively one or the other. In contrast to the frenetic energy of the feeding couples, the music was slow and thready, most dancers simply swaying together to the beat. And Emile was right. There was a high concentration of humans in the club tonight who, based on the scarring along their exposed necks, were experienced.

“There are many willing partners here this evening,” he said to Remus, fingers still dragging through Logan’s hair. “I know you need to feed.”

“What about you?” Remus stroked his jaw, turning him to face him. “Don’t neglect yourself. You’ve not fed since…” His gaze landed on Logan and his mouth opened in a little ‘oh’ shape. “Are you afraid you’ll—” Virgil nodded.

“I never intended to enthrall him.” Virgil leaned his head against Logan’s and breathed in his scent of coffee and pencil shavings and, now, blood. “Just before, when I got him to stop… That…" He winced, and kissed the top of Logan's head. "That was the first I’ve ever meant to use it.”

“That’s what that was?” Remus gasped, blinking at him.

Virgil’s mouth dropped as he peered closely at him. “You felt that?”

“Oh, yeah,” he huffed out a little laugh. Virgil looked away, frowning. “But hey, Virgil, no…” Remus turned his chin to face him again. “Look, here I am, disagreeing with you." He waved jazz hands with a crooked grin. "No thrall. It was temporary.” He tilted his chin over to Remy, who was still sitting quietly at the bar, nursing his juice. “And it was obviously needed in that moment.”

Remus leaned closer and kissed his frown. “I trust you, Virgil.” He looked at Logan. “We both do. Trust yourself.” Virgil fiddled with the edge of his own scarf.

“You told me there was no shame in feeding when you need to.” Remus nuzzled against his neck. “The same should be true for you. You can’t ignore your body’s needs…”

“Dee used to say that.”

He pulled back and met Virgil’s eyes. “Does that make it less true?”

Virgil sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his face against the top of Logan’s head and cupping Remus’ cheek.

Remus shook his head, his voice soft. “The rules can’t be different for us than for you.”

Dee kept a supporting arm wrapped around Virgil’s waist as they made their way up the wide, winding staircase to his room, catching him when he stumbled on the last step. “Dräga mea, you’ve waited too long again.” He drew Virgil close, stroking his hair. “You’re getting weaker. You must feed.”

“You know I tried… I—I can't… I won’t hurt anyone again…” He shuddered against Dee’s shoulder, hands shaking as he gripped his cloak. “Please, can’t you…?”

“It’s not good for you, Dragă, and you’ve gone so long…” He stroked Virgil’s cheek. “Soon you will need more than I can give.” Dee lifted Virgil’s chin and kissed him, only pulling back when he began to bite hungrily at his tongue and his lips. “You will find that there are many who enjoy the gifts we offer.”

“Please, Dee… Please,” Virgil whimpered against his lips, shaking as his hands tangled in Dee's cloak, drawing him closer.

Dee met his eyes, then nodded, offering his neck and holding him as he fed.

Virgil sucked in a breath as Remus shifted against his chest. He looked around the club and then whispered into his hair. “There’s someone by the bar who seems interested in you.”

Remus glanced over then turned away. Virgil smirked. “You noticed him already, didn’t you?”

He spun his empty juice glass on the table. “His name’s Marcus. I knew him, you know… before. He vouched for me with Emile.”

Virgil nodded. “Emile’s typically careful about who he allows in here.” Remus looked back and saw he was approaching their table. Virgil’s smile grew as he nudged Remus to his feet.

“Go.” He pressed a quick kiss to Remus’ lips when he turned back. “We’ll be here. Now go.”

Dee held Virgil’s hand, leading him out of their chambers and toward another, smaller room at the end of the hall. “Dragă, my love… it’s time.” He paused in the corridor, raising Virgil’s shaking hand to his lips. “There is no shame in sating yourself when you can give another pleasure in the process.”

He opened the door. “Virgil, you remember Andrei. He’s been waiting a long time for you.”

Virgil watched as Remus danced with Marcus. They spoke softly together, dancing slowly. Remus kept his gaze away from the man’s eyes, one hand on his hip, the other wrapped loosely around his back. After a few minutes, Marcus threaded his fingers behind Remus’ head and gently drew his mouth toward his neck. He closed his eyes and smiled as Remus fed.

Dee sat on the cold stone floor, rocking Virgil, arms wrapped tightly around him. “I’ve got you, my darling, I’ve got you. Just breathe for me… everything is fine…” Virgil’s chest heaved as he fought for breath.

“I can’t… I can’t… I just can’t do this….”

“Shhh, my love… listen to my voice, listen to my words… you are safe and you’ve done nothing wrong, my darling.” Virgil shook his head, shaking away the sound of Dee’s liquid purr in his ear. “Look at me, Dragă.” Virgil’s eyes snapped open and he met Dee’s eyes. His breathing slowed. “That’s it, that’s it, darling.” Dee leaned forward and gently kissed his mouth, licking away the blood on the edge of his lips.

“Pet?” Dee addressed the man laid out on the bed next to them. Andrei watched them through hooded eyes, a dazed, blissful smile brightening his paled face.

“Yes, my Count, my love, my life…” He stirred, pulling himself over the silken sheets to get closer to the pair. “Is it time for more?” He slipped down from the bed and crawled across the floor to them.

Dee smiled and cupped his cheek, “No, my pet, not yet.” Andrei frowned slightly but leaned into Dee’s touch.

He looked closely at Virgil, confusion drawing his eyebrows together. He looked up at Dee again. “Was I not enough to help?” He leaned closer to Virgil and slid a hand under the unlaced collar of his own tunic, pulling it away to expose a broad swath of flesh dotted with healing puncture wounds. Virgil licked his teeth when he saw the man’s pulse beat beneath his skin. “Please, Sir, take more.”

“No,” he managed. Virgil’s lips parted but he turned away, shaking with the effort to not pull the man closer.

“Now, now, Pet,” Dee turned his chin so he’d meet his eyes. “I said not yet.” Still frowning slightly, Andrei curled on the floor next to Dee. He watched Virgil.

“Virgil, my darling… Don’t you see?” He smiled and drew his fingers through Andrei’s hair, rubbing his scalp with the pads of his fingers. “He is happiest when you drink. You’re not hurting him, you give him pleasure, a gift. A gift he craves.” Releasing Andrei, Dee held Virgil against his chest, shifting him so he could see the adoration in the man’s eyes.

Andrei reached toward Virgil and bit his own lip as he tugged at Virgil’s shirt and scarf, twirling the purple and gold silk around his fingers.

Virgil trembled in Dee’s arms, Andrei’s closeness making it impossible to ignore his need. “I didn’t want this, though. I didn’t want this life.”

Dee carded his fingers through Virgil’s hair. “It is not up to us to choose what life we have… Only to live it.” Andrei moved closer, leaning against Virgil’s side and rubbing the scarf against his cheek. “While ‘it is necessity and not pleasure that compels us,' dragă mea, we give pleasure in meeting that need.”

“Now, Dragă, my love, let go of this fear. You are wanted. You are cherished. Accept it.” He nodded at Andrei and smiled as Virgil pulled him closer. “Take what you need and give him what he needs in return.”

“V?”

Virgil blinked, Logan’s voice dragging him back across the years, back to the club, back to his loves. “Y— yes, yes, L, I’m sorry. I was…” He looked to Logan, now alert, but still curled against him, and Remus, sitting beside him and gripping his hand tightly.

Logan murmured, stroking Virgil’s chest. “‘Necessity induces us, and not pleasure.’”

Virgil stared down at him. “What did you say?”

“‘Necessity induces us, and not pleasure,’ from Dante’s Inferno…” He grinned. "Virgil."

When Virgil remained silent, Remus and Logan nodded to each other. The taller slid away from their table, hands still wrapped around Virgil’s.

“Come,” he smiled. “Let’s take care of you.”

“The man in the corner was watching you when we first came in,” Logan whispered in his ear after he slid around the table and joined them. He kissed Virgil’s neck. “Go to him. Remus and I will be fine.”

Virgil found himself standing in front of the man, the sweet, warm scent of his blood washing over him and setting every nerve on fire. Siring Remus and Logan in quick succession after going without for so long had left him with a raw, aching hunger, the worst he'd felt in years. He kept his eyes trained on the man's mouth and neck, far from his eyes. Virgil offered his hand, voice unsteady. “Would you like to dance?”

The man’s mouth spread in a wide smile and he took Virgil’s hand. Virgil gasped at the heat of his skin and had to swallow back a growl. The man’s smile turned into a smirk and he wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist as they swayed to the gentle music.

“I’m Virgil,” he said, covering his teeth with his lips.

The man looked up into his eyes, lips parted and skin flushed from his hairline down to his chest. Virgil looked away. “I know who you are…” He leaned closer, resting his head on Virgil’s shoulder, arching his neck up. “My name is Abraham.” He pressed his body against Virgil’s and whispered up into his ear. “Call me Bram, like the author.”

Virgil looked down at the man’s neck and the faint constellation of scars from previous bites. “You’ve done this before, Bram?” The name caught in his throat.

“Yes… Oh, yes…” he breathed, slipping his hands underneath Virgil’s jacket and grabbing fist fulls of his shirt, pulling him closer. “Please… take what you need….”

Shaking, Virgil closed his eyes and opened his mouth.

Virgil wandered the stone-lined halls, flinching when another bolt of lightning flashed across the night sky as it sent a shot of blinding light through every window on that side of the castle. A deafening crash of thunder followed shortly. The storm was right on top of them, rain pounding against the thick glass panes and filling the pond in the topiary.

He hadn't seen Andrei since before he and Dee had left for their regular meeting with the merchant. When they'd tried to leave his room, Andrei had clutched at him, sobbing. Over the past year or so, Andrei had become very attached to them both, begging them to stay close even when it wasn’t time to feed. Before they'd left, Virgil had kissed him and left him his scarf. Andrei had wrapped it around both hands, pressing the cool silk against his mouth and promising to wait for them in his room, tears finally easing.

They’d been back for hours now, since before the storm had started, and Virgil couldn’t find the man anywhere. He’d given up trying to ignore the growing pit of dread in his stomach.

“Dragă?” Dee’s voice was just behind him. Virgil whirled around as another flash of lightning brightened the hall.

“Dee!” Virgil gasped, pulling him into his arms. His cloak was soaked and Virgil could see a trail of water leading away from them. “Are you alright? Why were you out in this storm?”

"I'm fine, my love." His eyes were bright and his lips flushed. Dee trailed his hand through Virgil’s hair and down his neck, pressing a line of kisses across his jaw to his mouth. “I simply had something to attend to.” He brought both hands to Virgil’s face, then cradled the back of his neck as he pulled him close for a deep kiss.

That’s when Virgil noticed Dee was holding his scarf. He broke away, holding his hand between them. “Dee? Where’s Andrei? He was… upset this morning. He’ll want this if we’re not with him.”

Shaking his head with a soft smile, Dee drew Virgil close, mouthing the side of his neck. “No need to worry, my love," he whispered against his skin. "Everything is fine.”

“You haven’t answered—” Dee pulled back and gently pressed his finger over Virgil’s lips.

“I have someone for you to meet.” Dee called over his shoulder, “You can come out now, pet…” A tall man in a sopping wet cloak fastened with the Hunter’s Guild emblem stepped around the corner. A cold, icy rock formed in Virgil’s stomach as he looked down at the swirls of purple and gold silk clenched in Dee’s hand. “Virgil, my darling, this is Ştefan.”

taglist: @mavenmush @melaniidarling @braingoburr @lunatatic @demon9980 @psychedelicships @justmeandmygayships @ts-creator-boost @bluerosesbleedred @tsfanficarchive @anxceitweek21

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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

Text

Dee Masterpost

But Virgil came to call him Dee.

Dee is the sequel of Beside Me, in which we learn Dee's side of his and Virgil's long history.

Rated M. Written for @anxceitweek21. Complete.

Chapter List - [ AO3 ]

Each chapter title is taken from the title of one of Bram Stoker's short stories or novels.

Under the Sunset

Dracula

Dracula's Guest

In the Valley of the Shadow

To the Rescue

Greater Love

The Way of Peace

Spotify Playlist

The Royality Week story, Ours, takes place in the universe, at various points during Beside Me and Dee.

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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

Text

Dee, Chapter 2: Dracula

Prev - Dracula - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Rated M - CW: vampirism, blood drinking, violence, injuries, dubious consent (thrall is a helluva drug) - WC: 2041 ---

Dee returned to the marketplace the following week to pick up the scarf. Virgil's scarf. The shopkeeper presented the finished gift in trembling hands and lowered her head. "I hope it is to your liking, my lord." He smiled as he took the shimmering length of silk from her hands. She’d married together long strips of gold and purple silk with nearly invisible stitches. The seams were smooth and unobtrusive, each panel flowing from one to the other. Tiny, spiraling decorative stitches in gold thread adorned the edges, glimmering and catching the light. Dee removed one glove and pulled the scarf through his hands. It slipped through his fingers like water, cool, smooth, and fluid.

She peeked at his face. "Does it please you?"

Her face relaxed into a bright, open-mouthed smile when he nodded and met her eyes. "Yes. Yes, it’s perfect. You have done fine work." He watched as she wrapped the scarf in a square of thick protective linen. Dee placed a few more gold coins into her shaking hands.

"For your trouble." He raised her hand to his lips and tried not to inhale the scent of her blood pumping just underneath the thin layer of skin pressed to his mouth. He kissed her hand softly, teeth tucked safely behind his lips.

"Goodnight, madam."

The shops lining the path to Virgil's storefront were beginning to close, the shopkeepers wrapping up their wares, stacking pots, and lashing down heavy awnings to protect their goods from the elements and from any pilferage in the night.

Dee was dismayed to see that Virgil had already completed his closing tasks, a heavy canvas cover battened down over his stand. Pulling his cloak tighter around himself, he turned away from the storefront. As he did, though, his eye caught sudden movement next to the closed fishmonger’s stand. He spied shifting shadows, three large shapes surrounding a smaller form. Creeping closer, Dee peered around the corner and saw three tall men surrounding the thin shopkeeper, striking him and pulling at his satchel.

Dee let out an inhuman growl and pounced on the robbers. One looked up and, seeing his bright white fangs glinting in the sunset, ran. The man holding Virgil froze momentarily and jerked his hand against the merchant’s side before he, too, ran, leaving his dagger protruding from Virgil's stomach.

Virgil's mouth opened wide in a silent cry, too pained to even produce sound, and he collapsed. The third man was stunned, still gripping his satchel. He stared down dumbly at Virgil as the merchant curled in a ball on the ground, moaning softly, blood pouring from between his fingers.

Dee grabbed the man, fire exploding through his veins. His fangs tore at the robber's throat, ripping open his fragile skin. He gulped at the flood of blood, then let his limp body fall to the ground.

Wiping the excess from his lips with the edge of his cloak, Dee crouched on the ground next to Virgil.

"Virgil mea, my darling, no. You cannot…."

Virgil smirked, "I knew you liked me. You took too long to say it, though." He gasped, face screwed up as a burst of pain shot through his side. He reached for Dee’s hand, staining his gloves with his blood. "Maybe—maybe in another lifetime."

"Maybe now," Dee whispered. "I can save you."

"No,” he looked down at the blood seeping through his clothes. He grimaced, turning away from Dee. “Gold coins can't save me from death, my lord."

"No, but I can…" He carefully turned Virgil’s chin to catch his eyes. Dee let his teeth show between his lips. "I can keep you from death and we can be together, dragă mea…."

"No… No," Virgil somehow grew paler and struggled in his arms. “No, that's unnatural."

Dee gazed down at him, lost in the light dimming behind his violet eyes. "Of course it is unnatural… but so is being alone."

Virgil shook his head until his strength waned and he let his head lay limp against Dee's arm. "Goodbye, my lord. It was so very nice to see you every week."

“Dragă, no!” Dee’s hands shook as he pulled him closer. "My darling Virgil, no. No, no, no... I won’t let you die…" Dee leaned over and pierced the thin skin above his collar bone and drank. There was so little left coursing through his dying body, but Dee wouldn’t need much for their bond, just enough for a taste. Just enough to let his venom ease Virgil’s fear and pain.

At first the injured man whimpered and pushed ineffectually against his chest, then finally he stilled as the venom took hold. Dee whispered to him when he pulled away, stroking his damp hair from his forehead and pressing soft kisses against his neck, his cheeks, his lips. “Rest, rest… It’s not long now, dragă mea.”

Dee then raised his own wrist to his mouth and bit down, shivering at the tiny spark of pain as his incisors drew blood. "Drink, Dragă, drink…" he said, pressing his wrist against Virgil's mouth.

Virgil shook his head weakly. "No, no…" A drop of Dee's blood hit his tongue and his eyes shot open, pupils dilated. Dee cradled him in his arms and held his wrist against Virgil’s parted lips. Another drop slipped down into his open mouth. A low groan bubbled up from his chest and he lapped at the wounds on Dee's wrist. Soon Virgil gripped Dee's hand with both hands and suckled, drinking the new life like nectar.

After several minutes, he fell back, panting, pale, and very much not dead.

Dee gently stroked his face, fingers trailing over his cheekbones, through his hair, over his throat and down his chest.

"Virgil, dragă mea." Virgil blinked up at him, a dazed smile pulling at his blood-painted lips. "Let me take you home now."

Nodding slowly, Virgil clung to Dee and the ancient vampire lifted him, cradling him against his chest, and carried him to his carriage on the edge of the marketplace. Virgil’s head lolled against Dee’s strong shoulder and he appeared to have difficulty keeping his eyes focused on him.

"Am I staying with you, my lord?"

"Yes, my darling. For always."

---

The ride back to his castle wasn’t long, but Dee counted every bump in the road, every jostle pulling a strained groan from Virgil’s still-pale lips. “It’s not much longer, dragă mea. We’re nearly there,” he murmured over his shoulder as he urged the horses on faster. Finally, the familiar stone spire peeked out above the next bend in the road and Dee thought he could cry with relief.

As soon as they reached the carriage house, Dee stopped the horses and quickly unhitched them, letting them loose into the warm barn. He rushed through their rubdown, afraid to leave Virgil alone for long in case he woke, but not wanting to harm his horses through neglect. He latched the barn doors closed and hurried back to the carriage. Virgil was still curled under the heavy woolen blanket.

His eyes snapped open the moment Dee unlatched the carriage door. He squinted, his gaze bouncing from Dee’s face to the roof of the compartment, down to the blanket wrapped around him. “Wha—Where are we, my lord?” Dee slid one arm under his shoulders, cradling his neck, and the other under his knees and he lifted him out of the carriage. Virgil spotted the stone front of the castle and started to squirm. “No, no, the stories are true… I shouldn’t be here… I… I need to…”

“Shh, shh, shh, my darling, you’re safe.” Dee’s voice was soft but his grip was immovable. “Nothing can harm you here. You’re safe.” After his brief struggle, Virgil let head fall back against Dee’s shoulder, breathing shallowly.

His eyes slipped closed but he continued to mumble, “No… shouldn’t be here…”

Dee kissed the side of his head and carried Virgil up to his chambers. He set him down on his bed, brushing his hair back and away from his face. He pushed aside his tunic, checking that both the small punctures near his neck and the dagger wound below his ribs had stopped bleeding. At last, he started a fire in the fireplace, filling a small porcelain water basin and setting it on the hearth to warm.

While he waited for the water to warm, he gently undressed Virgil, pulling away the carriage blanket and removing his blood-stained tunic, leggings, and undergarments. He wrapped him in a fresh blanket, then retrieved the warmed water and some cloths from his dressing table.

He’d just set the basin down next to the bed when he scented his pet approaching. “Andrei, you may come in,” he called, listening for the quiet shuffling steps of the last hunter who’d tried to kill him.

Andrei slowly slipped through the doorway and he watched Dee wiping down Virgil’s neck and chest. “My lord? Who is this?” He licked his lips and stepped closer. Dee could hear his pet’s heart begin to race, the blood pumping through his veins. Virgil’s scent must have already begun to change if he could begin to enthrall the man even at a distance.

“You may call him Sir, for now.” Andrei stepped closer, but stopped a few feet behind Dee. “After he wakes and has acclimated, he will tell you if he prefers you call him something else.”

“He’s beautiful—” he gasped when Dee pulled back part of the blanket covering Virgil’s wound. “Oh, but he’s hurt.”

“Yes, my Pet, he is. That’s why I am helping him.”

Andrei drew closer and brushed his fingers along Dee’s arm, staring at the wounds on Virgil's neck. He wet his lips. “You’ve sired him.” Andrei leaned against Dee’s back. “Perhaps my lord would like to sire me, as well?”

Dee set down the cloth and pulled Andrei onto his lap. He nuzzled the man’s neck, breathing in his musk. “No, my pet, you are going to stay just as you are.” He dragged the tip of his tongue over the series of healing puncture wounds along his neck. “I like you just like this… Delicious… Warm…” Dee let his teeth graze his skin and Andrei held his breath, leaning closer and tilting his head back to reveal more of his neck. “And mine.” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his pulse point. “But not right now.”

Andrei shifted in his lap, a small whine escaping the back of his throat.

“Right now, I need your assistance.” Dee set Andrei back on his feet, then handed him Virgil’s stained clothes. “These need washing and mending. He will want his own clothes when he wakes.” Andrei hugged the bundle of clothes against his chest. “Can I trust you with this task?”

“Yes, oh, yes! Yes, of course.” He nodded vigorously, gaze still lingering on Dee’s teeth poking between his lips.

“Very good. I will check on your progress shortly.” He fixed his eyes on Andrei’s. “Thank you, my Pet. You’re so helpful for me.” He carded his fingers through his hair and the former Hunter closed his eyes as he leaned into the touch. “Now, leave us, please.” Nodding rapidly, Andrei slipped through the door, his quick, shuffling footsteps echoing back into the room as he hurried to complete his task.

Once the residue of Virgil’s last mortal wounds was washed away and he was wrapped in fresh, soft cotton sleepclothes, Dee checked on Andrei. Virgil’s old clothes were washed and wrung out and Andrei had hung everything but the damaged tunic on a metal rack to dry by the fireplace in his own small room. He sat on the floor by the hearth, working by firelight to repair the gash left behind by the robber’s dagger. Satisfied with his pet’s progress, he praised him and returned to his own chambers.

Finally, Dee changed out of his own travel clothes and into a long dressing gown. He stood next to the bed to watch the firelight play over Virgil’s features, the smooth arch of his eyebrows, the sharp edge of his jaw, the soft curves of his lips.

Virgil's body was reacting to Dee's blood now, and a sheen of sweat made his skin glow. Tearing himself from his musings, Dee retrieved a dry cloth and patted Virgil’s forehead, face, and neck dry before climbing into bed with him. Dee wrapped his arms around Virgil’s limp form, stroking his hair. He fell asleep watching the flickering firelight dance across his love's face.

---

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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

Text

Dee, Chapter 7: The Way of Peace

Prev - The Way of Peace - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Rated M - CW: vampirism, blood drinking, injuries, brief but graphic description of broken bone, graphic description of reset broken bone, sex referenced/implied - WC: 6979 ---

The monster in the shape of his dead brother twisted back his arm, tearing the tendons and shattering his bones. Geminus cried out and hid further down the dark alley, cradling his arm, fighting to stay conscious against the overwhelming pain as he watched his pack brethren leap down to his defense. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop the high pitched whine pushing past the back of his throat. His arm was on fire, every pant jostling the bits of broken bone, jabbing and grinding them into his flesh as his supernatural healing tried to make sense of his injury.

“Logan, Remus, get behind me!” Geminus thought he would be sick. Dracula spoke to its spawn like they were still people, desecrating his brother’s name. He watched from behind the edge of the dumpster, curled protectively around his wounded arm. He’d let down his brethren. He’d let down his pack. He’d jumped too soon. He just couldn’t stop himself. When he saw Dracula’s spawn pass the alleyway, when he saw with his own eyes what they’d done to his brother’s body… a white-hot rage filled his gut and he felt a roar press against his lips and his muscles and bones moved before he could even think.

And now Pathos and Ire were left to take on not three, but four bloodsuckers by themselves. He whined and winced in empathetic pain as he watched Dracula grab Pathos, twisting his fur and throwing him against the dumpster.

Get up, get up, get up, get up! He prayed. Those monsters’ll kill you if you don’t get up! Finally, Pathos shook himself and, glancing quickly in Geminus' direction, let out a low, soothing growl to tell him he was alright, and then he leapt back into the battle.

Outnumbered, Pathos and Ire still fought with everything they had. Ire snarled as he grabbed onto Dracula’s spawn with both paws, ripping and tearing at the monster’s flesh. Geminus cheered with a low growl when Ire managed to almost drive his teeth into the creature’s thin skin, scraping just deeply enough to draw blood and leave behind his venom. If nothing else, that made tonight a victory.

But it wasn’t a fair fight.

Dracula grabbed Pathos and shouted at him, its reptilian yellow eyes filled with animalistic fury. Then the impossible happened. The monster ordered Pathos to stop fighting and he did. Geminus watched, eyes wide, as Pathos froze in Dracula’s grip and changed from his powerful battle form and into his weak, vulnerable human form. By the word of the monster itself.

“Get out of here, now!” Dracula spat its command at Pathos. And he obeyed. Geminus shook his head. This can’t really be happening. Pathos isn’t a traitor. What is he doing? He watched, unable to believe his eyes, as Pathos let the monster wearing his brother’s skin pick up Dracula’s spawn, tossing its body over its shoulder like a sack of meat and retreat back to the sidewalk.

Geminus whined, hoping to draw Ire’s attention. They’re getting away! Quick, bite another

Then the smallest monster grabbed Ire, staring up at him with its tiny, cold blue eyes. “Go!” it shouted and Ire, powerful, strong, fullblood Ire curled in on himself at the words of the weak little bloodsucker and started to shrink down to his human size.

Geminus stared in horror as Ire simply backed away. He didn’t fight back, he didn’t bite, he didn’t even bare his teeth. He just obeyed the filthy little bloodsucker. Geminus whined in pain when Ire grabbed his fur as he passed, dragging him along. They fled down the alley together, following in Pathos’ cowardly steps.

---

Chopin played quietly in the room as Logan and Remus curled together on top of the covers on the bed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard.

Unknowingly, they mirrored Dee and Virgil’s positions downstairs, with Logan nestled against Remus’ side, the other's arm wrapped around his back, hand gently carding through his hair. Logan had taken off his glasses so they wouldn't poke against his skin. He hummed along to the melody, drawing little circles against Remus’ chest.

The music had been Logan’s idea. Sound traveled perhaps a little too well in the penthouse, but the soft piano helped, giving them something to distract their preternatural hearing in order to grant Dee and Virgil some degree of privacy. Even over the music, Logan and Remus were both confident they would quickly hear if Virgil was in distress and needed their help. But as the minutes ticked by and there was no sound above the quiet murmurs muffled by the sonata, the chance that Virgil would need saving grew slimmer and slimmer.

“How much time do you think we should…” Logan finally asked, tilting his head up to catch Remus’ eyes.

He shrugged with a tiny wince. “I’m… I’m not really sure.” Remus started to gnaw at his lip and Logan reached up, tugging it away before he could draw blood. He smiled a thanks and kissed Logan’s fingertips before holding his hand against his chest. “You’ve known Virgil longer. Do you… do you think he would ever go back?”

“To Europe? No. At least I… I don’t think so. His life is here now.”

“To Dee.”

Logan closed his eyes and buried his face against Remus’ chest, rubbing a cheek against his skin. He sank into Remus’ embrace and sighed. “I don’t know.”

Remus nodded, letting his own eyes fall closed as he breathed in the spicy coffee and cedar scent pouring from his sired. He wrapped his arms tightly around Logan, nuzzling against his hair.

“No matter what—” Logan��s voice caught in his throat and he roughly brushed away a tear that escaped his control. He shook his head. “No matter what Virgil decides to do, though…'' Again he looked up at Remus. “I want you and I to always be together. I won’t ever leave you.”

Remus smiled sadly and leaned in to kiss his lips. “Same for you, Love.” Logan reached for Remus’ shoulders, drawing him closer. Remus lifted him up and settled Logan onto his lap, dragging a hand through his hair before cradling the back of his neck and deepening their kiss.

When they finally broke apart, Logan leaned his forehead against Remus’, panting softly. “We could… we could easily get carried away up here.” Remus nodded, turning his head to leave a line of kisses up Logan’s throat and across his jaw. Logan whispered into Remus’ hair. “We should go downstairs to check on them.”

“Hm-hm,” Remus hummed against the other side of his neck, letting his mustache bristle against Logan's skin as he mouthed his soft flesh.

“Soon,” Logan murmured, pressing his body closer.

“Hm-hm,” he replied, slipping his fingers under the hem of Logan's shirt. “Soon….”

---

Later, Remus and Logan slowly opened the door to Virgil’s room, making no effort to quiet the sound of the hinges, and letting the last movement of Nocturne spill softly from the room. Logan called out, just loudly enough to let his voice carry, “Is it… is it alright if we come down?”

Dee’s low chuckle wafted up from where he still sat on the couch, Virgil curled against him, sleeping. “Yes. Yes, of course, please do.” He looked up just in time to catch them as they nodded to each other and, clasping hands, mimicked Dee’s earlier move and leapt over the edge. They landed safely, if not quite as softly as Dee had.

Raising his eyebrow at their exhilarated smiles, he purred. “Is this the first you’ve tried that?”

Logan nodded and tilted his head away, blushing. Remus grinned. “Yeah, it was fucking awesome,” he whispered.

Dee returned his smile. “I… I hope to show you more.” He met their eyes. “Both of you.” Logan and Remus’ smiles shrank as their eyes fell on Virgil and their earlier uncertainty returned.

All three fell silent, watching the gentle rise and fall of Virgil’s breathing. His wounds were completely closed, now just a series of bright red lines drawn across his skin. “I’ll—I'll get him a shirt,” Logan murmured before squeezing Remus’ hand and darting into his room where Virgil still kept a few sets of pajamas.

Remus called quietly over his shoulder. “Juice?”

Logan nodded as he slipped through the door. “Good idea.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said to Dee and left him alone again with Virgil. Remus quickly returned bearing a tray with the bottle of pineapple juice from the refrigerator and four tall glasses. With his shin, Remus nudged the coffee table closer to the couch and set down the tray.

Dee watched Remus as he sat on the floor in front of Virgil and poured the juice. “So, uh… you and Virgil, huh?” Remus murmured in a light voice belied by the shaking in his hands as he filled each glass.

Reaching out, Dee brushed his fingers along Remus’ shoulder. The pitcher slipped a bit from his hand, landing heavier on the tray than he’d intended. Remus turned to face him. “While I realize it was perhaps not solely for our benefit…” Dee glanced up at the bedroom, from which the faint strains of Holst were clearly audible to them through the closed door. “You and Logan do not need to hide away from me. Or ask permission to be here. This is… this is your home.” He looked down at Virgil and brushed a lock of hair from his face. “And your sire. If anything, I am the interloper.”

Remus nodded, eyes still on Virgil's face. "Thanks."

Dee looked down, watching Remus’ calloused hands as he continued to prepare their drinks. “Besides, I… I rather enjoy your company, Remus. I would… welcome the opportunity to get to know you better.”

“Hm,” Virgil grunted against Dee’s shoulder, eyes still closed. “Dee, are you hitting on Remus right in front of me?” He sat up and stretched, wincing against the bright light. He blinked, then smirked at them. “At least wait until I’m awake so I can help.”

Before Dee or Remus could respond, Virgil asked, “Where’s Logan?” as he looked around the room.

“I’m right here, V,” Logan whispered from his doorway, hugging a soft purple fleece against his chest. His voice was rough and eyes ringed in red. Virgil craned his neck and held out his arm.

“My star,” he called, and Logan moved to Virgil’s side, sitting on his knees next to him on the couch and draping his arms around his shoulders.

Logan sighed against him. “You are looking much improved.” He gently prodded the skin around his wounds, smile broadening at their rapid healing. “How are you feeling, though?”

“Much better. Thanks to you.” Virgil cupped Logan’s cheek and dragged his other hand through Remus’ hair before meeting Dee’s eyes. “Thanks to all of you.”

“We’re simply relieved that you are well.” Logan turned his head to kiss Virgil’s wrist. “We know you would have done the same for any of us.”

Remus stroked his thigh. “As you literally already have. And on that note,” He raised his hand with a flourish and twisted to grab one of the drinks on the table. He pressed the cold glass into Virgil’s hand. “Drink. I bet you need it.”

“Thank you, my Prince,” Virgil said, bending down to kiss his forehead and then his lips.

Grinnning, Remus picked up two more glasses, handing one to each Logan and Dee. Logan let his hand linger on Remus’ as he accepted it with a smile and sipped. Dee held his with both hands, inspecting the bright yellow liquid.

“I thought you were only using a euphemism when you suggested ‘juice.’” He looked at Remus. “Surely it’s acceptable to have something with a little more bite at this time of the evening.”

Remus tilted his head at the windows, lips twitching in a barely concealed grin. “The sun is up.”

“Just drink the damn juice, Dee,” Virgil laughed.

Logan chuckled, pushing up his glasses. “Actually, the bromelain enzymes in pineapples are sufficiently strong to break down protein chains into simpler amino acids. In fact, they're a common ingredient in meat tenderizers.” He took another long swig. “In a way, pineapple juice does have a bite.”

Dee merely raised an eyebrow and tilted his head as he sniffed at the glass.

“But that’s not why Virgil likes it,” Remus sang quietly, leaning back against Virgil’s leg, tilting his head to rest on his thigh and wink up at them.

“Oh… Are you referring to the belief that pineapple consumption may have a positive effect on the gustatory perception of”—Logan cleared this throat—”fluids?”

“Bingo,” Remus laughed, chugging half his glass.

“While there is a paucity of true scientific evidence to either support or refute such claims, anecdotal reports”—Logan adjusted his glasses—”seem to support such hypotheses.”

“Yep, Lo's saying it works.” He raised his glass to Dee and waggled his eyebrows.

Dee narrowed his eyes at Remus, then, smirking, clinked their glasses together and took a sip.

Laughing, Virgil stood and picked up the shirt Logan had brought for him. “You are all incorrigible!” Remus shifted when he stood up and, watching Dee out of the corner of his eye, lightly leaned against his knee. Dee let his free hand fall on his lap and rest next to Remus’ shoulder, stroking his skin with the backs of his fingers.

Logan stood, taking Virgil’s glass and setting it down with his own on the coffee table to help when Virgil winced as he stretched his newly healed shoulder. He grinned at him. “Whatever would you do if we were corrigible, V?”

Pulling him closer for a kiss, Virgil murmured against his lips. “I’d be very, very bored.”

---

“Why didn’t you warn us that Drac could enthrall werewolves?” Pathos crossed his arms in front of his broad chest, fighting to keep a calm exterior. He tried to sit at his desk but the shaking restlessness in his legs forced him to his feet and he paced the floor in his small office. Pathos took a few deep breaths. Ire could get away with losing his temper, but he could not.

Ire looked up from where he worked to reset the worst of the fractures in Geminus' arm. They’d waited too long to set it and the bones had healed poorly. “I didn’t think it was real. I thought it was just some trick.” Ire shook his head, growling. “I certainly never thought some pipsqueak little mosquito would be able to do it, too.”

“Well it looks like it can. And if it can do it, any bloodsucker could.” He pounded his fist on the table and the little recruit in the corner edged further against the wall, his uninjured hand gripping his moonstone.

“Oh, Geminus. Nobody's mad at you, Kiddo. Yes, you should’ve waited for the signal, but… I don’t think it would’ve made a difference either way tonight. Not with this new power they have.” Ire looked away.

The room was mostly silent, save Ire’s whispered warning, a sharp, wet snap, and a whine of pain as he broke and realigned the last of Geminus' fractures. Ire growled empathetically, stroking the hair around his ear. Geminus leaned against his hand for a moment, then nodded.

Ire wrapped a splint around his arm, securing it with a long bandage, winding slowly and checking the tension every few turns. Geminus was a particularly active recruit and could not be counted on to remain still long enough for the arm to heal without support.

He kept his eyes trained on the young hybrid’s arm and muttered to Pathos. “I’m not sure how new this power really is. He did this the first time I met him, as well… back when I first started.”

“What!? How could the Carpathian Guild keep this from us?”

“We weren’t sure. The thrall fades with distance and time and by the time I’d returned…” He sighed, helping Geminus adjust the straps on his sling. “We didn’t know if it was just the natural fading… or if it hadn’t even been real. They nearly expelled me over it.”

He stood. “You must understand. That book caused an uproar across Europe. We didn’t want to cause a panic. And we certainly didn’t want to give any of the damned bloodsuckers ideas. We needed to be sure before we raised an alarm. It shouldn’t be possible to enthrall us.”

“Well, clearly it is real.” Pathos growled.

“Why didn’t you come forward, then? Before this? Drac seemed to know you.

Pathos whined in the back of his throat, pacing the room.

“He compelled you not to, didn’t he?” Geminus finally spoke. Pathos lowered his head, curling his back away from the other two. “Did he do the same to you, Ire?”

“No. No, I don’t think so.” They were quiet for a long time, the stench of their fear pheromones stifling in the room.

“We have a real problem if we can’t trust each other.” Pathos finally spoke, looking each of them in the eye. “If we can’t even trust ourselves.” Ire and Geminus nodded, looking down at the floor.

“We're losing this war. We need a new plan.”

---

Laughing, Virgil was bringing the juice tray back to the kitchen when something was slipped under the front door. He set down the tray and picked up a light blue envelope, turning it around in his hands. It was unaddressed and had no postage stamps, adorned only with the Hunter’s Guild seal embossed on the back of the heavy linen paper.

Alerted by his sudden silence, the others gathered around. Dee’s eyes widened when he saw their mark. He rushed to the door, yanked it open and looked down the hall, searching for any evidence of which Hunter had delivered it.

Logan shook his head, staring at the envelope. Remus curled his arm around Virgil’s waist protectively. “We have a private entrance,” Logan said. “They’re trying to scare you by demonstrating they could get in.”

Dee closed and locked the door, scowling.

“There’s only one way to find out what they have to say.” Virgil brought the envelope back to the couch and tore it open. They gathered around him as he read the short letter inside. Remus read over his shoulder. Virgil looked up, eyes wide. “They want a meeting.”

He passed the note to Logan and Dee and they read together, exchanging a quick glance.

“They want to meet tomorrow morning, at the library on Fifth.” Logan’s brow crinkled. “That leaves them very little time to prepare and it’s a true neutral ground. They’d have no advantage.” He turned the letter over in his hands, sniffed it and held it out to Dee. “They’re panicking.”

Dee nodded. “We’ve revealed the Hunters’ quiet shame.”

“I believe you are correct.” Logan frowned at Virgil and Remus. “While Dee was enthralling the werewolves one at a time, they were able to maintain plausible deniability and could perpetuate the myth that the new Hunters could not be enthralled.” Logan returned the letter to Virgil. “But after last night—”

Dee nodded at Logan. “And last night Logan at least partially enthralled a pureblood.” He bowed his head slightly. “That was… impressive,” he murmured. Logan fidgeted with his sleeves, looking away until Virgil stroked his cheek.

“And there was a witness. That other hybrid.” Remus added. “I think I broke its arm.” He grinned wildly. “I sure hope I did.”

“It doesn’t give us much time to prepare, either,” Virgil said, looking down at the letter.

Remus stared at the other three. He shook his head. “We’re not seriously considering answering this creepy-ass summons to some giant library though, are we?”

Logan gestured to the letter. “It’s a safe location.”

“What, the books will keep us safe?” Remus snapped. Immediately he groaned, then moved to sit on the armrest next to Logan and buried his face against his hair. “Fuck, no… I’m sorry, Lo, I—”

Logan turned and tugged him down into a kiss. “It’s alright.” He shrugged. “In a way they will. That library is run by Thecari. It’s neutral ground. The protective spells over the space are there for everyone.”

Remus huffed out a little laugh. “But magic isn’t real…right?”

“‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’” Logan shrugged.

“Bibiliothecari simply use very old ‘sufficiently advanced technology.’”

Logan turned to Dee in surprise. “Are you familiar with them? How old are they?”

"How old are the Bibiliothecari?" He winked at Logan. "Or how old am I?"

Logan shrugged with a smirk.

Dee chuckled. “They were founded after the Library at Alexandria was destroyed. That day made it clear that libraries needed more than the biased and limited protection that a single political leader could provide.”

“Fascinating. What leads you to believe thecariwere a response to the attack on the Library and not a reactionary cause?”

Dee raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “I was there.”

“Really?” Logan leaned in closer to Dee, eyes bright. “So who actuallydestroyed The Library?”

Virgil sat back against the couch and watched Dee and Logan gossip about two thousand year old history. Remus stood, kissed the top of Logan’s head, then brought Virgil another glass of juice. He curled next to him, tucking up his feet and nestling against his shoulder. Virgil wrapped his arm around him and pulled him closer, fingertips brushing up and down his arm.

“They could be at this for a while,” Remus murmured quietly.

Virgil chuckled, “I have no doubt.”

“So you really think this is a good idea?”

Kissing the side of his head, Virgil nodded. “I do.”

Remus sighed against him. “I just…” He gripped Virgil’s hand, holding it against his cheek. “I just don't want you to get hurt again. We… We were so worried about you.”

“I’m right here, my Prince.” He cradled Remus’ chin in his hand and kissed him. “We’ll all be working together and be ready for anything.”

He nodded and snuggled back against Virgil’s side. “So… It looks like you and Dee are… patching things up.”

“How do you feel about that?” Virgil asked, meeting his eyes. “How would you feel if… he was around more? A lot more?”

“Dee’s good in a fight. And now that he’s treating you and Logan better, I won't hafta kick his ass…” His voice trailed off as he watched Dee and Logan talk excitedly over a book, gesticulating wildly. The pair had moved their conversation to the small library in the corner and were flipping through the pages of a giant atlas.

“And, um, he… he’s got the whole sexy nerd thing going on like Lo.” Dee hefted the atlas, lifting it to a high shelf, and the thin, tight material of his borrowed shirt revealed the cut of every muscle in his arms and back. Remus swallowed. “I… I can see the appeal.”

“Good,” Virgil hummed, stroking Remus’ hip. “I think he likes you, too.”

---

The four vampires stood under the arches at the top of the steps of the New York Public Library. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon at their backs but was not yet high enough to breach the skyscrapers along the eastern edge of Manhattan. The street was quiet, dark, and cold. One lone dog walker across the street muttered to themselves—or their pooch—while they huddled against the chill, hurrying back home. The Library would not officially open for several more hours. By then, the building would be crowded with patrons, and tourists, and scholars of all types. At this hour, the doors were ordinarily sealed and locked.

But this morning, they were expected.

After a few moments, two of the Thecari met them at the doors. They entered the darkened building, and their footsteps echoed as they were led through the vast, high-ceiling Rose Reading Hall and back to a secluded study room in the northwest corner of the building. The room was lined with books and journals, and had two broad floor-to-ceiling windows draped in heavy velvet blackout curtains.

A circular conference table sat at the center of the room, its polished surface gleaming in the low light diffused from the sconces along the walls. Several high-backed chairs surrounded the table, providing plenty of seating for their two parties.

“Please make yourselves comfortable,” the one called Gaineamh said. “The others are yet to arrive.”

The one called Ni smiled. “If you need anything, we’ll be here.” Ni looked closely at Dee, then bowed his head, murmuring, “Namal 'an tajlib alsalam maeak alyawm.”

Dee nodded, translating for the others. “Ni hopes we”—Ni’s head shook—”that I brought peace with us today.” He nodded again. “Han waqt alsalam baynana. It is time for peace between us.”

Ni and Gaineamh smiled one more time, then slipped through the heavy door, letting it fall closed behind them. Dee sank into a chair, fingers steepled in front of him. Virgil sat next to him and took his hand. “Did you know them?”

He nodded, swallowing dryly. “They’re older than they look.” He took a deep breath and found a smile. “And a lot stronger. We’ll be safe here.”

Logan and Remus settled into seats on either side of them. “That was a big fucking thing to promise, Dee,” Remus said, tightening his jaw.

Dee took Virgil’s hand and kissed his palm, then held it against his cheek. “Fighting won’t keep you safe. Any of you. Not forever. The Hunters nearly got you last night.” He looked at Logan and Remus. “If there’d been more of them, they would’ve gotten all of you.”

Logan gripped Dee’s shoulder as he searched for words. “We’ve been at war with the Hunters for thousands of years. I’ve been at war with them for thousands of years. They’ve taken enough from me. And I’ve…” He shook his head and blew out a hard breath. “And I’ve taken enough from them. We need to find a better way.” Virgil nodded and reached over to squeeze Remus’ hand. Remus squeezed back.

“By calling for this meeting here," Logan said quietly. "The Hunters appear to have drawn a similar conclusion.”

“Let’s fucking hope so,” Remus said. “I just hope—”

The door opened and they all stood. Ni and Gaineamh led in two Hunters, both in human form.

Pathos entered first, brandishing a large wooden cross as they entered. Dee rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, I was copying scrolls Euclid three hundred years before that god was born.” He snatched the crucifix out of the shocked Hunter’s hands, kissed it, then returned it. “Now will you put it away?”

Pathos exchanged a look with Ire. “So what else do we have wrong about you?”

“What, are we playing I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?” Remus looked around the room. “I suspect there won’t be a whole lotta surprises in here.”

Dee shook his head. “Most of what is in that book you cling to isn’t accurate.”

“Maybe you’d be willing to share your notes with us, then,” Pathos said smoothly, settling into a seat opposite Virgil and Dee.

“I have an annotated copy.” Logan winked at Dee. “I wouldn’t turn down a fact check from another primary source, though.” Virgil chuckled into his hand.

Ire remained standing. “If you think I’m going to sit down with Vlad the Impaler and chat, you all must be out of your mind!” He crossed his arms in front of himself and glared at Dee.

“You do realize we were different individuals, don’t you? I was born over eighteen centuries before Vlad Țepeș.”

“Then why did people call you that?”

Dee rolled his eyes. “Oh, sweetie. Ever heard of a double entendre?” After a second, Remus threw his head back and laughed. Virgil just lowered his head and tried to hide his smile. Ira growled and shook his head at the same moment that Logan met Virgil’s eyes, one eyebrow raised.

Pathos shook his head. “I really don’t see anything funny about torture.”

Ira scoffed and leaned over to whisper in Patton’s ear. His jaw dropped. “Why—why would you let people call you that?”

“What people? It was a phallic joke made in poor taste by one vampire in Styria over five hundred years ago. I didn’t think it would evolve to the point that anyone was actually foolish enough to take it literally.”

“I have some bad news for you about that word, then,” Ira muttered. Logan chuckled and quickly covered his mouth.

“Fine, I’ve heard enough.” Pathos nodded at Ni. “It’s safe for the kid. Can you let in Geminus?” He scoffed at Virgil’s raised eyebrow. “What, you, thought we’d walk in here that badly outnumbered?" He shook his head. "We just protect our young ones,” he snarled at Logan and Remus.

The third Hunter stepped through the door and Remus’ jaw dropped. “Ro? What are you doing here?”

“How dare you say his name, bloodsucker!” Pathos jumped to his feet and snarled. Ni and Gainaemh raised their hands and a gossamer veil slid down, splitting the room in half. Both sides found they could not cross to the other half of the table.

Remus barely noticed, eyes fixed on his twin’s face. “Wh—what?” He shook his head. His eyes finally landed on the cotton sling strapped over his chest, his broken arm immobilized. “Wait, Ro… You’re the one who attacked us?”

“You do not have permission to call him that.” Ire growled, standing between him and the others. “He is called Geminus.”

Logan’s eyes jumped between the brothers. “Twins,” he whispered.

“Oh, Patton, really!” Dee rolled his eyes. “They are clearly brothers. Look at them!”

“Enough!” Virgil raised his hands at right angles in an eerie imitation of the Thecari. Everyone fell silent and Ni and Gaineamh nodded, then backed out of the room. “Between all of us, we all know each other's real names. I’m Virgil, this is Logan, and Remus, and this is Dee.”

Dee nodded across the table at Pathos and Ire. “And you are Patton, and Luka.”

“And my brother is Roman,” Remus added quietly, staring across the table at Roman’s injured arm.

“You’re not my brother, bloodsucker. I know what happened to him. My friend Marcus told me where he saw you, impersonating him. You had him fooled at first, too, until we could educate him. My brother died and you’re just walking about in his skin.”

“Ro. No, it’s me.” He shook his head. “Virgil saved me. How else could I know your name, Geminus?”

“You could’ve just enthralled him and compelled him to tell you his true name.” Luka sneered at Dee. “It’s how Drac learned ours.”

“Fine!” Remus stepped as far around the table toward his brother that he could within the bounds of the Thecari’s spell. “Ask me something only I would know. Where did we grow up? Who was your first crush? Why did—”

“Okay, bloodsucker, you wanna play?” Roman glared at him. “If you’re really my brother, tell me how you got the scars on your back.”

Remus froze. His eyes darted over to Virgil and Logan. His voice shook as he mumbled, “Please don’t ask me that, Ro.”

“Why? Because you don’t know?”

He stepped a little closer, whispering to his twin as he glanced again at the others. “No, I just—”

“Speak so we can hear you,” Patton demanded. “No parlor tricks today, bloodsucker.”

Remus shifted his weight from side to side and he shook out his hands. Virgil was closest to him and tried to stand behind him, but the spell blocked his path. “I got hurt. And had to go to the hospital. We told mom and dad how we were playing on the fire escape. I fell.”

Roman shook his head, turning back to the Hunters. “He's a fake.”

“Okay, wait.” He hung his head and hugged himself. “I jumped out of the car when Dad was driving.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And when I told the truth at the emergency room, Mom and Dad said I was lying to get attention. I had to stay in the “behavioral health” unit for two weeks until I changed my story.”

Roman shook his head but didn’t turn away. “That’s all in my brother’s hospital records." Luka and Patton growled to each other, muttering. "You could have wormed your way into someone’s mind there and just—”

“I jumped because I thought it was the only way to make sure you wouldn’t crash when you got your permit." The room fell silent. Remus wouldn't look at anyone. "Then they sent me back when I punched Coach Greaves for poisoning your athletic tape. And then again—" he voice failed and he tried to catch his breath, squeezing his hands into fists.

After a minute, he continued. "And then again when I attacked your biology professor so he couldn't dissect you in class.” He rubbed his arms. “By then I’d graduated to the adult ward.”

Remus finally met his brother’s eyes. “The last time you saw me was right before I got out and I showed you the bruises I got for talking in my sleep.”

“My brother never told anyone else why he did all that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Remus whispered as he stared at the floor. “That's ‘cause it’s really me, Ro.”

Remus looked up and saw Roman was crying. Roman stepped forward, meeting Remus at the centerline of the room. He pulled Remus toward him with his unbroken arm and cried against his shoulder. “It really is you. I thought you were dead, Re. It's why I…” he tugged at his moonstone Hunter necklace.

“That’s what I’ve been telling you, dumbass." He sniffled. "I’m just different now… like you.” He smirked. “Just… I won’t need a flea bath every night.”

Roman laughed out a little sob. “Yeah ‘cause you’re the flea.”

Wiping his tears with one hand, Remus pressed the other against his chest. “Excuse you, I am not a flea. I am a sparkly sexy vampire, thank you very much.”

“Oh, shut up,” Roman muttered and hugged him again.

Luka plopped into a chair and propped his feet on the table. He growled, “This is all very touching, but how do we know he hasn’t just enthralled you?”

Patton stood next to Luka. “Geminus,” he called. Dee cleared his throat, eyebrow raised and Patton rolled his eyes. ”Roman, come here.”

Roman hugged Remus one more time, “We're gonna figure this out.” Remus nodded and waited for his brother to return.

“Remus?” Virgil’s voice was quiet and just behind him. The spell had let him take another step forward, but he still couldn’t get close enough to touch him. “Remus, what did you think would happen if you told us?”

“I—I didn’t want you to be afraid of me.” He shrugged. “Most people were, when they’d heard where I'd been.”

“Oh, my Prince,” Virgil held out his arms and Remus fell into them. Virgil rubbed his back and whispered in his ear.

Logan and Dee approached. Logan kissed the top of Remus’ head where it rested against Virgil’s shoulder. “We love you, Remus. Nothing could ever stop that.”

Dee pulled Virgil aside, so Logan sat with Remus at the table, speaking quietly. Dee crossed his arms, watching the Hunters speaking together, communicating mostly with growls and pheromones to prevent the vampires from listening in. “Any guesses on what they’re saying?”

Virgil shook his head. “None. Let’s be ready for anything.” He stood a little closer to Dee. "I'm really glad you're here."

Dee smiled as ran his hand down Virgil's spine and whispered, "Me, too, Dragă."

Logan held Remus’ hand and turned their seats to face the windows, their backs to the Hunters. Dee and Virgil stood between their chairs and the border of the spell. Logan whispered, “That’s why you went looking for someone to turn you. You’d heard it cures schizophrenia.”

“Yeah. It was a popular rumor back in the hospital. I thought it was better than going back. But how…?”

He shrugged with a little smile. “There are several documented cases in the literature.”

Remus cupped Logan’s cheek, chuckling. “I should’ve expected you to know about it. Is there anything you don’t know?”

Logan kissed him and covered Remus' hand, pressing his palm closer to his cheek. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Oh! That’s just sappy enough to work,” Remus laughed lightly, kissing him back. Then they turned and waited for the Hunters' next move.

---

“For heaven’s sake, Ira, how can I prove to you that I’m not enthralled?” Roman flung his arm in the air, growling softly.

“We can’t prove a negative. That’s part of why we’re here.” Patton scowled and scratched the back of his neck. “We can’t even tell when one of us has been compromised.”

“Well, there must be something,” Luka insisted.

Roman leaned back in his chair. “I dunno… tell me to do something you think he wouldn’t want me to do.”

“Punch him,” Luka shrugged.

“What? I don’t wanna hit my brother.”

Luka waved a hand dismissively. “He’s a bloodsucker. He’ll heal. Punch him. That or we walk. This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“Well, we started at zero,” Patton sighed. “We can’t win this war. The vamps have nukes and we’ve got wooden stakes.”

“But the toxin—” Luka started to insist.

Patton shook his head. “Virgil’s right there. Look at him, Ire. The toxin doesn’t work.” Patton growled low in his throat. “Go on. Geminus, go do it.”

Roman sighed heavily and walked up to the border as far as he could. It wasn’t as close as last time. “Remus? Can you step forward?”

Nodding, but noticing the change in the border on his side, Remus stepped close enough to touch his brother.

“Remus… I’m really sorry,” Roman muttered and he swung back and socked him in the mouth. With a layered growl that shook the windows, Logan, Virgil, and Dee leapt to their feet and tried to force their way to the brothers.

“I’m alright, I’m alright, I’m alright.” Remus stood up, waving his arms and wiping away his blood with the back of his hand “Don’t touch him! Don’t do anything!” Remus shouted. “What the fuck, Ro!?”

“I’m sorry, Re. They needed to see that I wasn’t in your thrall.” He stretched his hand across the border. “Call it even for the arm?”

Remus scowled but he shook his brother’s hand. “Even.”

“Satisfied?” Roman asked, glaring at Luka and Patton.

They growled quietly to each other. “Fine.”

“Shall we sit?” Virgil said. Everyone found seats around the table again. Roman and Remus sat next to each other, Remus next to Virgil and Roman next to Patton, linking the opposing sides. They all noticed at the same time that the table had also shrunk, leaving only seven chairs around it. There was was a gap at the side opposite the brothers, where the border separated Logan and Luka.

“It appears as though the Thecari believe we’re ready to begin.”

---

Two hours later, all the sides could negotiate was a temporary truce until they met again in two weeks.

“We will enforce our side,” Virgil said. “But we need Emile’s and other meeting places to be safe zones.” Patton sighed but nodded once in concession. “And you need to tell us who’s your mole there.”

Patton looked at Roman. He nodded rapidly. “It was Marcus.” Patton sighed. “And Yann. but you took care of him”—he eyed Remus—”for other reasons.”

“And did you really execute all of my Hunter contacts?” Virgil asked.

Patton and Luka growled to each other. Finally, Luka shook his head. “They were ordered to stand down but they’re fine.” He glared at Dee. “We were just trying to get Drac here.”

Ni and Gaineamh slipped into the room. Ni looked at both sides of the table, gaze lingering on the twins. “You have made more progress today than you realize. Lilsalam.”

“To the peace. Lilsalam,” Dee answered as Ni and Gaineamh led them out.

---

After an abbreviated visit to Emile’s to spread news of the agreement—and to allow the younger vampires a much-needed chance to feed—the four returned to the penthouse, exhausted. With a pointed look at Virgil, Logan and Remus excused themselves to prepare for bed upstairs.

“You’ll be needed upstairs, as well, Dragă.” Dee stroked Virgil’s cheek as he looked up at the bedroom door as it closed. “They—they might not admit it, but they’ll need you tonight.”

Virgil nodded and started to turn toward the stairs.

“Before you—I—I need to…” Virgil looked back at Dee, brow furrowed at his tone. He swallowed hard, his sarcastic charm dissolving. “Your forgiveness means so much to me.” Dee shook his head and took Virgil’s hands, pressing them against his lips. “You really do carry a part of me with you. Right there.” He placed his palm flat against Virgil’s chest. “And I am so grateful that you have been able to grow and….” He exhaled and tried again.

“I'd thought… when all this is done and I go home, I was going to ask you to come with me, Dragă. So we could be together, but—” His voice broke and his eyes trailed upstairs. “I'm part your past. The rest of your world… the rest of your life is waiting for you up there.”

Virgil took Dee’s hand and held it tight. He nodded, brushing away a tear that stole down Dee's cheek. “I’ve already lost one family because of you, Dee. I cannot lose another.”

Dee's mouth trembled as he pressed his lips together and he nodded. "Of course," he managed. He turned away and began to leave. Virgil wouldn’t let go of his hand.

“So stay with us, Dee.”

Dee turned around and held his breath, afraid to speak, afraid to make a noise that might break this spell and wake him. “They’re falling for you, too," Virgil said, grasping his other hand. "You don't need the thrall to be… needed.”

“You'd still want me… Even… even after everything I’ve done?” Dee whispered, eyes filled with tears.

Virgil pulled Dee close, hands tangled in his hair as he captured his mouth in a kiss. Dee hummed happily and opened his mouth, bottom lip grazing Virgil’s teeth, tongue darting out. Finally, Virgil broke away and whispered against his neck. “You said you’d always be with me.” His teeth brushed against his ear. “So prove it.”

Dee melted into Virgil's arms as he kissed him again, the soft, familiar taste of his mouth and skin bringing back a long-dead warmth in the center of chest. He drove his hands through Virgil's silky hair, letting his fingers trail down over the back of his neck. He began to float, tethered only by Virgil's mouth, the feel of his skin, and the salt of his own tears. Suddenly he leaned back, looking into Virgil’s eyes. “Dragă, but are sure they'll want me—”

“So are you two coming up here or do we have to come down there?” Dee and Virgil looked up at the balcony and saw Logan and Remus, arms linked as they leaned over the railing, grinning. Remus winked. “I gotta warn you, though, the bed downstairs is a lot smaller than the one up here.”

---

"Hey, Lo…" Remus whispered as he drew his arms low around his hips, fingers splayed against the small of his back. "They caught that I said come upstairs right?" Logan laced his fingers behind the back of his head, lightly scratching his scalp. He pulled Remus close and chuckled against his lips, "Oh, yes, Remus, they definitely did." "Good, 'cause if not, I could always just say we're all gonna go fu—" Logan crashed their lips together in a hungry kiss as they waited for Virgil and Dee to join them.

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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

Text

Dee, Chapter 6: Greater Love

Prev - Greater Love - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Rated M - CW: vampirism, blood drinking, injuries, thrall referenced as non-consent - WC: 4171 ---

“Get him on the couch!” Logan cried as he flung open the door. Remus rushed inside, Virgil still draped over his shoulder. Dee stood in the doorway, lips pursed, waiting for Logan to turn and face him.

“Logan… I—I can’t come in unless you…” Dee gestured vaguely at the threshold, hands shaking.

“Oh, right… um…” He glanced over his shoulder where Remus was laying Virgil on the couch, tearing open his shirt to get a better look at his wounds. Logan worked his mouth and finally he took a deep breath and nodded, “Yes, yes, yes, of course. Come in, please.”

In an instant, Dee had moved faster than even Logan could see and was crouching on the floor next to Virgil. “Why won’t he wake up? Why isn’t he healing?” Dee muttered, prodding the edges of his wound with his fingertips. “Is he compromised? When did he last feed?” he snarled at Remus as he lifted Virgil’s lips to peer at his gums.

“A—a few weeks. It—it hasn’t been long… for him,” Remus stammered. He started to gnaw at his thumbnail, then shuddered as he looked down at the blood and werewolf fur on his hands and clothes.

“Virgil has gone far longer without it impacting his healing abilities,” Logan said, standing over the three of them. “This is… something different.” He leaned over the back of the couch, pointing to Virgil’s chest. “Look at the wound on his shoulder… that’s healing.” He shook his head, “It’s only the wounds that came in contact with the lycanthrope venom that aren’t.”

“I realize you are young, my dear,” Dee began, patting Logan’s hand, “And it’s not your fault you were raised with all sorts of nonsense mythology, but werewolf toxins have no impact on us.”

Logan narrowed his eyes and set his jaw, but before he could answer, Remus interjected. “Logan may be a new vampire, but while you’ve been hiding for centuries in some candle-lit stone castle, he studied cutting edge xeno-anthrobiology for over a decade before he even met Virgil. Hear him out.”

Shooting a quick smile at Remus, Logan rushed to the bookcase and pulled out a few of the newest books. He brought them to the coffee table, leafing through until he found the entry he needed. He looked up and adjusted his glasses. “Over the past few decades, werewolves have been feeling threatened. It appears that they were beginning to suspect that some vampires,” he cast a glance at Dee, “were learning how to enthrall even purebloods. Most of their research was suppressed.” He shrugged. “The Guild didn’t want to admit a weakness.”

Dee moved closer and began to read over Logan’s shoulder. Logan looked up. “Based on what we saw tonight, their fears were not unfounded. According to this there were indications that the Hunter’s Guild werewolves were adopting CRISPR technology to enhance their own toxins to use against, well… us.”

Dee stabbed at the page, “And according to this, they were on the cusp of a breakthrough.”

Nodding soberly, Logan flipped to the copyright date. “This was published a year ago.” He looked at Virgil, lying motionless on the couch, barely breathing. “They might have cracked it.” Logan turned again to the books. “Perhaps we can find something in the old cures that could help. Something we can modify for vampire physiology?”

“We have to do something,” Remus said, voice breaking as he held Virgil’s hand against his cheek. “We can’t let him die.” He looked up at Dee and Logan, and saw matching tears in their eyes.

“We won’t,” Dee and Logan said together.

Logan sighed and shook his head. “Re, love, why don’t we take turns staying with Virgil and getting cleaned up.” He tilted his chin toward Remus’ clothes and hands. “You bore the brunt of it. I’ll”—he looked up at Dee—”we’ll take care of him while you shower, okay?”

Remus kissed Virgil’s hand and gently placed it back down on the couch, then clambered to his feet. He bent over to kiss Logan and whisper in his ear. Then he stood up straight and silently glared down at Dee, glancing pointedly at Logan before running upstairs to wash away Virgil’s blood.

---

Dee and Logan sat on the floor, surrounded by stacks of books. Logan broke the silence and brought his book to show Dee. “In the 1930s, there was research in Greece around injecting plasma from one werewolf to another—”

“You can’t be serious,” Dee interrupted.

Logan scowled at him, eyebrow raised, as he continued. “It was intended as a lycanthropic remedy against our venom.” Logan sifted through the books, finding the one he needed. “They had some success.” He tapped the page thoughtfully. “One might reasonably extrapolate an analogous remedy against lycanthrope venom in a vampire could be another vampire’s blood.”

Dee huffed. “That’s a lot of ‘mights’ and ‘coulds’…” Logan frowned, crossing his arms. “But I suppose there’s a poeticism to it,” Dee conceded, leafing through another book. Finally he sighed and set it down on the floor, holding his head in his hands.

Logan cradled Virgil’s hand in his, turning over his arm and examining his veins. “He lost a significant amount of blood in that alley and on the way home.” He shrugged at Dee. “Virgil’s going to need some of our blood, anyway.”

Remus bounded downstairs, taking the steps three at a time. His feet and chest were bare, dressed only in plain black trousers and a towel draped over his shoulders to catch the water from his still dripping hair.

Dee looked up as Remus rejoined them. In addition to a large green and blue tattoo of an octopus’ arms breaching a wave splashed across his broad chest, Dee noticed long, faint, white scars on his muscled arms and back. They almost glistened against his pale, olive-toned skin. He looked up at Remus' face and saw him smirking back. He winked then turned to Logan.

“So Virgil needs our blood?” he asked. “Let’s fucking go.”

“We need to be careful and not overdo it.” Logan sighed, digging out the book he’d used while researching his own early days. He flipped through the pages. “There are significant risks to continuing to feed off another vampire”—he glanced at Dee—”particularly one’s Sire, for an extended period beyond one’s initial turning.”

Dee stared at the floor.

Brow furrowed, Remus asked, “Like what?”

“Extended feeding from a sire will exaggerate the bond, and can make the receiving vampire susceptible to suggestion, much like the thrall. It can also cause an addiction-like dependency in both receiving and donating vampires.” Logan closed the book. “It’s risky. Given the alternatives, though…”

“We haven’t got any alternatives,” Dee’s voice was low. Logan nodded, staring down at Virgil.

Remus looked between Logan and Dee. “If both of you actually agree on something… I think we should do it.”

Remus knelt on the floor and stroked Virgil’s hair. “We should get him cleaned up.’ He looked at Logan and Dee. He smirked half-heartedly. “Your whole Transylvania vibe protected your clothes pretty well, Dee. Lo, why don’t you take a turn in the shower? Dee and I’ll keep watch.”

Logan stood up and nodded at Dee, then softly kissed Remus, whispering, “He’s trying.”

Remus whispered back, “Okay, so I won’t kill him yet for what he said.” Logan kissed him again and went upstairs.

“I’ll get some water,” Remus said, heading to the kitchen. He called over his shoulder as he filled two bowls at the sink. “You know… half of me thought Virgil was pulling my leg when he first told me about you.”

Dee chuckled darkly and held out his hands. “I’m real.” He stacked the books to one side and pushed the coffee table further away to give them room to work.

Remus grunted in response as he found a few hand towels and brought everything over to the couch. He placed the bowls on the floor between them and knelt in front of Virgil. Remus handed Dee a cloth and dipped his own, wringing out the excess water before wiping away the drying blood on Virgil’s stomach. Virgil didn’t wake, but twitched, muscles tensing at his touch. They exchanged a quick, relieved glance and continued their work.

After a few minutes, Remus spoke again. “Did he tell you he saved me?”

Dee nodded, wincing as he worked out a clump of dirt from Virgil’s hair. “He told me you were attacked.”

“Yeah, sort of…” Remus wet a new cloth from the clean water and nodded. “I, um, I had gone to Emile’s to find someone to turn me.”

“And Virgil just agreed to—”

“No!” Remus shook his head sharply. “No, not Virgil. I met someone else and… he said he would turn me. We went outside—Emile doesn’t go for that inside the club—and um, he…” Remus shuddered, carefully dabbing at the inflamed skin around the werewolf’s claw marks. “Well, you could say he was down for the 'draining me' part.” He frowned at Dee. “Just not the 'making sure I didn’t die' part.”

Remus wet another clean cloth and wiped away the dirt and blood and fur from Virgil’s fingernails. “Virgil stopped him and…” He held his sire’s now-clean hand against his cheek. “He’d wanted to take me to a hospital.” Remus shook his head, whispering. “But I… I convinced him and he agreed. He saved me.”

“I was trying to save him, too.” Dee dabbed at Virgil’s neck with the cloth, the scar from his bite long-since faded. Time heals.

“He doesn’t talk about that.” Dee turned to Remus, eyebrows knit together. “About… how he was turned.” Remus held on to Virgil’s hand, pressing kisses against his wrist. “He told me it was so long ago, he doesn’t remember.”

“I remember.” Dee whispered. “Virgil was a merchant and… after closing one night, he was robbed and I… I interrupted them. Scared them.” Dee laid his hand over Virgil’s stomach, just below his ribs. “One of them stabbed him. This was… this was when a cold was life threatening. There was no medicine or surgery to fix a gut wound.”

Dee sighed. “The robber was just… scared. He probably never would have done it if I hadn’t frightened him.” He shook his head. “I could have easily replaced Virgil’s lost earnings, if I had just watched for a moment and properly read the situation… But I couldn’t bear to see him harmed.” Dee stroked Virgil’s hair. “They hit him and I just… reacted.”

“You’ve known him since he was mortal. I mean, you really knew him.”

“I’ve loved him since he was mortal." He brushed his thumb along Virgil's eyebrows and down his temple. "I couldn’t imagine a world without him in it, so… even though he…” Dee crushed his eyes shut. “He begged me not to, I—I turned him.”

Dee’s hands shook as he patted a dry cloth on Virgil’s face. He whispered, ‘I disregarded his wishes because I wanted him to be mine forever.”

Logan stood at the foot of the stairs, listening. Shower finished, his wet hair was slicked back and he’d changed into a thermal top and joggers. “It’s why he sees it as a curse. Virgil didn’t get to choose, like we did.”

Dee shook his head. “I made his choice for him. And he hated me for it.”

“But he loved you, too.” Logan approached the couch. “And you should know that he forgave you, Dee. You saw him tonight—Virgil put himself between you and those werewolves. He forgave you.”

“Take care not to inject sentiment into an instinctual defense." Dee muttered, frowning. "It doesn’t mean he actually—”

“He told me so, Dee.”

“You knew?” Remus asked.

Logan nodded. “Virgil told me everything when he thought I wouldn’t remember. When I was…” He flailed his hand, sighing. “When I asked him to…” Logan’s voice failed and he turned away, hanging his head.

“When you were still mortal and you would ask him to turn you?” Dee finished.

Logan nodded again, hiding his face. “There were years when I would beg every night.” He exhaled shakily, scrubbing a tear from his cheek. “And so finally he told me how he'd had no choice. He didn’t think I could properly choose in that state.”

Remus stood and held Logan, cradling him against his chest. “Thank you, but I’m fine, Re. Ancient wounds. Virgil didn’t know that I really did understood or that I still loved him the same as I did before—”

“Wait, this was all when you were enthralled?” Dee asked, voice strangled.

Logan tensed in Remus’ arms. “Yes,” he said shortly, gritting his teeth.

“You… You can actually remember the things that happened during your thrall? And— and you were aware of your feelings before it?”

“I was aware of everything.”

Dee slumped back against the side of the couch. “Di—did Virgil know?”

“Much later… yes. He didn’t at the time.”

“I didn’t know,” Dee whispered. An iron band locked around his chest.

“…Please don’t leave me, my Count, please… please, just a little more…” “…Is it time, my lord? Please… take all that you need…” “…I missed you, my lord… I woke up and I wasn’t touching you.”

Logan’s voice was icy. “Would you have perhaps not called me his pet or his plaything if you had?”

Yanked back to the present, he nodded at Logan, breathing shallowly. “At a minimum.” Dee rose to his feet and stood in front of Logan. He held out his hand, palm up. Narrowing his eyes, Logan let his hand rest on Dee’s. Dee bowed his head and gently kissed his knuckles. “I am sorry, Logan, for the way I treated you when we first met. Evidently even I still have a great deal to learn.” He carefully released his hand and looked down at his own clothes. “Would—would you both excuse me? I sh—should freshen up.”

Remus and Logan both nodded. Remus stammered, “Of course… Yeah, yeah, um, go ahead… help yourself.” He looked down at Dee’s body. “You’re probably close to my size… Just, you know, whatever’s in the closet.”

“Thank you, that is generous of you.” He took a breath and opened his mouth, but let it close and shook his head. “Thank you,” he said again and gilded upstairs.

Remus and Logan watched until the door closed. Remus shook his head, blinking. “I just told Count Dracula he could borrow my pants.”

A small laugh burst from Logan’s lips, quickly turning into a sob as he looked down at Virgil. He pressed his hands against his mouth, shuddering. “Oh, Lo,” Remus’ voice was thick with tears as he pulled him against his chest and they held each other as they cried together. After a few minutes, Logan leaned his cheek against Remus’ bare shoulder and tried to catch his breath.

Stroking his hair, Remus murmured, “So we’ve got a plan?”

Logan nodded and cleared his throat. “Yes.” He took a deep breath and slowly released it. “We’ll take turns. I just hope…” He knelt in front of Virgil, tugging Remus down with him. Experimentally, he pricked his thumb with a fang and brushed it across Virgil’s lips. After a moment, his mouth fell open, tongue slowly lapping at the blood. Remus smiled at Logan, moving closer and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“I’ll go first.” Logan bit shallowly into his wrist, then slipped his other hand under Virgil’s neck and pressed the trickle of blood against his parted lips. The pair watched, hushed, as their sire slowly drank.

---

Upstairs, Dee stood under the spray in Virgil’s shower, hands pressed hard against the cold tile wall. He let the hot water pour over him as he sobbed.

They’d been aware.

He chanted their names. Ni, Job, Amah, Zu, Ishtar, Enki, Ikhur, Adrahasis, Uten, Dagan, Gibil, Tamzi, Kingu, Gal, Urash, Hurin, Alam, Drakon, Hermokrates, Kletus, Xenia, Demetirus, Solon, Hesiodos, Nurma, Onesimos, Euphemios, Leontios, Marius, Eudoxos, Nikodemos, Cato, Septimus, Cyperian, Quintus, Aelian, Phocas, Sophus…

How many? Hundreds, easily. A thousand, even? Dee had lost count over the centuries.

And they’d all been aware. They’d all known. They’d all known what he was doing to them. How he controlled them. He hadn’t made them happy… he tortured them.

Dee sank to the shower floor with a wail, shaking. No wonder they all went mad but Logan hadn't. They'd been Hunters who hated him. And they were aware of every moment under his control. He’d been right to tell Virgil that their devotion wasn’t real love. But he'd thought the devotion was real. He'd thought he really could change their minds with affection and care and pleasure.

He just didn’t know. He didn’t know that underneath it all they still hated every second of the existence he had trapped them in. That underneath every touch, every word, every kiss, was the undying desire to rail against him and escape.

Until he’d finally bleed them dry and release them from their prisons.

Dee sat under the water until it turned cold, then he rose and got out of the shower. He had to go help make sure Virgil survived the night. He had a lot to apologize for before he left.

---

Dee found a pair of black pants and a matching shirt that would fit and dressed quickly. He slipped out of Virgil’s room and stood on the balcony overlooking the main area for several minutes, watching. They’d cleared away the bowls and dirty cloths he and Remus had used to clean Virgil’s body and dressed him in soft pajama pants.

Remus and Logan now knelt together in front of their sire, arms wrapped around each other. Their eyes were trained on Virgil, their intermittent whispered words too quiet for even Dee to hear. Apparently, they’d begun to feed him. Even from upstairs, Dee could smell their blood and see that Virgil’s breathing had deepened and grown steadier.

“You could just come down, Dee,” Logan said without looking up. “We were wondering if we would need to send a search party for you. Or perhaps simply to teach you how to work a shower.”

“I live in a castle, not the stone age.” He huffed and, ignoring the stairs, leapt over the railing and landed softly on the lower level. “It’s retrofitted.”

“He’s kidding, Dee,” Remus smirked.

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face as he looked up at Dee over his glasses. “Virgil appears to be responding well.” He beckoned Dee closer. “Come look.”

Up close, Virgil’s wounds on his stomach and chest appeared to be closing. The lacerations on his shoulder were now completely healed, the thin white scars likely to be imperceptible by morning.

“How long ago did he last feed?” Dee asked, kneeling next to Remus.

Logan craned his neck to check the time on the kitchen clock. “Fifty-three minutes ago.”

“How long do you think we should wait ‘til we give him more?” Remus asked.

Without looking at each other, Dee and Logan both shrugged. “Perhaps another hour?”

Remus tilted his head to Logan’s, slouching against him. His gaze wandered idly on Dee for several moments before he suddenly straightened. “I have a question.”

“Only one?” Dee murmured. Rolling his eyes, Remus glared. Dee bowed his head. “Please ask anything you wish.”

“Back at Emile’s, Logan said you could just compel us to stay and listen.” Remus shook his head. “But vampires can’t be enthralled. Not really, at least.” Dee looked away.

After a while, Logan filled the silence. “That’s just a myth.”

“No,” Remus turned, looking between Dee and Logan. “Virgil told me.”

Logan stared at Dee. “Is that what you told Virgil?”

He sighed. “Vampires can’t be accidentally enthralled the way humans can. It… It requires a remarkable level of focus and intent.” Dee pressed his lips together and breathed heavily through his nose. “But, it is possible. Particularly…”

“Particularly in moments when the subject is stressed?” Logan interjected, his voice hardening. “Such as after a traumatic turning?”

Dee nodded.

“You enthralled Virgil, didn’t you?”

Remus’ jaw dropped and he stared at Dee. He was quiet for a long time. Finally, he whispered, “Yes,” and hung his head. “Just… at the beginning… not the entire time we were together. That would not have been possible, nor would I have even wanted it. It was just… just long enough to get him to stay calm and feed.”

Logan turned away from Dee and stroked Virgil’s hair. Remus sat between them, stunned. “So has he always been reluctant to feed?”

“Yes, from… from humans.”

He whipped his head around. “What does that mean? How—” Logan’s eyes widened, gaze falling on the book that warned against over-feeding from a sire as a look of horror spread across his face. “How long did he go before you stopped sharing your blood?”

Dee closed his eyes. “He wouldn't feed otherwise. He would have starved if I hadn’t—”

“How long, Dee?” Logan demanded through clenched teeth.

“Nearly a year.”

“That—” Logan shook his head, hands trembling. “That kind of a bond is unprecedented. It—it would’ve caused physical pain to separate, not to mention the kind of psychological harm…” He leaned over Virgil and buried his face in his hair, tears filling his eyes.

Remus gripped Virgil’s hand, glaring at Dee. “And you just threw him out?”

“I was angry.” Dee snarled. He sucked in a breath. “He’d betrayed me—betrayed us to a—a—a Hunter. When I’d calmed down and saw he really left, I— ” He covered his face with his hands forcing back a sob. “I never actually thought he would go. I didn’t think he could.”

“I guess I’m just full of surprises, then,” Virgil mumbled weakly.

Logan sat up, a watery smile spreading across his face. “V!”

Logan and Remus threw themselves at Virgil. Dee watched the smile grow on Virgil’s face as his sireds checked his healing wounds with careful, gentle fingers, pressing kisses against his chest and neck and lips. He slunk away from the trio but Remus reached over and grabbed his wrist before he could get far. He tugged Dee back to the couch, shaking his head.

“Nu-uh. You two need to talk.”

After peppering Virgil with one more round of whispered words and soft kisses, Logan and Remus retreated to Virgil’s room, leaving the pair in a heavy silence.

“Will you help me up?” Virgil asked, reaching for Dee’s hand.

He grasped it, stroking the back with his thumb. “I—I don’t think you should—”

Virgil shook his head. “I’m sitting up and you can help me or not.” Nodding, Dee stood and supported Virgil as he sat up and leaned heavily against the backrest. “Thank you,” he panted. Dee moved toward a chair but Virgil patted the seat next to him. “Please….”

Dee sat on the edge of the cushion then turned toward him. He folded his hands in his lap to hide their tremor.

Virgil’s voice was weak. “How much of that was true, Dee?”

“All of it.” Dee swallowed and looked away. “I’ve made too many mistakes to add lies on top.” He risked a glance and saw Virgil was watching him. “How much did you hear?”

“Everything since Logan implied you don’t understand indoor plumbing.”

He barked out a laugh, sniffling. “I see why you like him.”

“I don’t just like him, Dee. I love him. Both of them.”

“I’m—” Dee’s voice broke and he rubbed his hand over his face. He tried again. “I’m very happy for you. You’ve made a family for yourself. You deserve some joy.”

“What about you, Dee?” Virgil started to reach for his hand and then stopped, instead, letting it rest in the space between them. “Have you…?”

“You were the last I sired.”

He was quiet for a while. “I… I never asked, but… were there others before me?”

“The Hunters got them all.” Dee’s hand jerked toward Virgil’s and he laced his own fingers together, pressing them in his lap. “I came here because I… I couldn’t let them to get you, too.”

“Oh…” Virgil’s expression fell. “Not to…” He cleared his throat. “Not for anything else?”

Dee finally met his eyes. “I… I didn’t think you would ever entertain the thought of"—he raised his eyebrows—"of anything else. I… I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you, Dee…” Virgil whispered, shaking as he laid his hand over Dee’s. “I… I thought you hated me.”

“I love you, dragă mea,” Dee lifted Virgil’s hand to his mouth, gently kissing his fingertips. “Always.”

A sob escaped Virgil’s lips before he pressed his other hand against his mouth. He shuddered. “I never thought I’d hear that again.”

“I’d do anything to undo the mistakes I’ve made, undo how I’ve hurt you. I’m… I’m so very sorry.” He rubbed his cheek against Virgil’s palm. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

Virgil brushed a few of the tears from Dee’s face. “I forgave you a long time ago.” He let his head drop back against the backrest and his eyes fell closed as he whispered, “I could never stop loving you, either…”

Dee peered closely at him and touched his cheek. “Dragă?” Virgil cracked open his eyes.

“I’m… I’m here, Dee. Jus’… tired.”

“You lost a great deal of blood in the attack. Logan and Remus… fed you. You need more.” He started to stand. “I’ll go get them and—”

Virgil reached out. “Wait…” He shook his head, forcing his eyes open. “I—I don’t want them to give up too much… Would you….”

Dee sat back down.

“Would you…” Virgil met his eyes, his own filled with tears, but clear and focused. “Just a… Just a little?”

Dee opened his arms and Virgil melted into his embrace, nuzzling his neck. He whispered into his love’s hair. “I’d give it all if you needed, Dragă…” Then he closed his eyes as Virgil began to feed.

taglist: @anxceitweek21 @mavenmush @melaniidarling @braingoburr @lunatatic @demon9980 @psychedelicships @justmeandmygayships @ts-creator-boost @bluerosesbleedred @tsfanficarchive

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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

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Beside Me Master Chapter List

Virgil Lamia and Remus Prince's destinies are forever changed when their paths collide one sultry summer night in New York City.

Beside me there is no savior. - Isaiah, 43-11

Trying this again. Tumblr ate the original post. I know it’s a tasty little story, but it’s the vampires who are supposed to be insatiable, not the AI. (That’s a different story.) The story is also on [ AO3 ]

Chapter List

Save Me (Myths/Supernatural)

Do So to Them (Swapping)

And Gave Them Drink (Coffee Shop)

Depart From It (Parents)

Learning Doth Make Thee Mad (School)

And They Shall Hunt (Adventure)

Solve My Riddle to the Music (Music)

Hasten My Escape (Holiday/Bonus)

The story continues in Dee and Ours. Thrall is soon to follow.

#dukexiety #sanders side fanfic #master post #Beside Me #ts remus #ts virgil #ts janus #ts logan #Virgil Lamia #Remus Prince #Dee #Logan Sanders #vampire/human #vampire AU #ts human au #they're vampires‚ y'all‚ read with caution and skip it if that's not your jam :)#tumblr don't eat this friggin post okay?

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edupunkn00b · 3 years ago

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Beside Me, Chapter 7: Solve My Riddle to the Music

[ AO3 ] - Prev - Last - Chapter List Masterpost

Rated PG-13/M - CW: human/vampire AU, vampirism, implied sexual content, religious symbolism/references, hurt/comfort - Word Count 2268 Dukexiety Week Day 7 Prompt: Music

I will incline my ear to a proverb; I will solve my riddle to the music of the lyre. - Psalms 49:4, New Standard Version Can I be the only hope for you? Because you're the only hope for me And if we can't find where we belong We'll have to make it on our own Face all the pain and take it on Because the only hope for me is you, alone Remember me, remember me, remember me, remember me… - The Only Hope for Me is You, My Chemical Romance Logan’s Piano Playlist ---

Safely back at home, Remus sat on the counter in the kitchen while Virgil and Logan treated the wound on his head and his bruised knuckles. “Is this really necessary? Don’t we have like super-human healing or—” he winced as Virgil dabbed at the cut on the back of his head with an alcohol-soaked gauze pad.

Virgil chuckled, “We bleed less, and heal quickly, but that doesn’t mean we can simply ignore injuries.” Remus flinched as Logan pressed on the joints in his hands. “If it hurts, you treat it.”

“Ow,” Remus said to Logan. “What are you doing? That hurts.”

Logan adjusted his glasses, frowning, but didn’t look up from his ministrations. “Please allow Virgil and me to treat you. If we do not thoroughly check for fractures, you could ‘super-heal’ improperly and then we would have to break and reset the bones. That would be most unpleasant even for an immortal supernatural being such as yourself,” he muttered in response, a small smile softening the nearly palpable sarcasm.

Virgil froze, staring at Logan. After a few more moments, Logan looked up at Virgil, murmuring, “V, I think he’s okay. Should I put some ice on his hand?”

“Y—yes. Yes, th—that would be helpful, L, thank you.” Virgil watched as Logan retrieved an icepack from the freezer and wrapped it in a cloth before returning to his side, placing it on Remus’ hand. Shaking his head, Virgil let out a breath and frowned at Remus. “That was risky of you to take on a Hunter.”

“He was going to hurt you, and he treated Logan like he was less than human.” Remus shook his head. “I couldn’t just let him get away with that.”

---

After they’d all had a chance to shower and rest, and Logan ate, the three had settled into a quiet afternoon. Remus was exploring the sprawling bookcases in the corner of the living room, and Virgil was making some calls to his Hunter friends, seeking the identity of the one who’d accosted them outside of Emile's.

Logan approached the piano, trailing his fingers along the edges. Remus looked up from the book he’d been reading. “Do you or Virgil play?”

Logan nodded, “V plays beautifully.” He sighed, running both hands over the lid of the piano. “I… I used to. I haven’t played in years.”

“What’s stopping you?” Remus asked.

“I—I don’t know. Perhaps… nothing.” Logan pressed his lips tightly together, fingers edging under the polished keyboard cover. “Afraid of doing it wrong, I suppose.”

“I… I wouldn’t mind hearing you play… “ Remus watched as Logan’s fingers danced across the covered keys, as though already playing. “If you wanted to try it again.”

Logan bounced nearly imperceptibly from one foot to the other, looking at the instrument. He bit his lip as a grin fought its way onto his face. “Do you promise you will not laugh if I make a mistake?”

“Absolutely, Logan.” Remus said, his voice serious. “I won’t ever laugh at you.”

Logan licked his lips, whispering, “Okay, if I’m terrible, you can’t say I didn’t warn you. And if V hates it, I’m blaming you.”

Remus grinned, “I don’t think he will, but just in case, I’ll gladly take the fall for you.”

Hesitating one more moment, Logan stared at the bench in front of the piano, before taking a deep breath and sitting down, lifting the cover. He adjusted the height of the bench then held his hands over the keys.

He suddenly froze. “I don’t know what to play.”

“Is there a song you remember that makes you happy?”

Logan looked at the keys for another few seconds, before adjusting his foot on the pedals and began to play a slow, calm melody. He played haltingly at first, as though trying to remember the notes, but after a few bars, he closed his eyes and his fingers danced over the keys.

Remus was enchanted by the music. He watched how Logan seemed to expand as he played, the gentle notes flowing through the room. He put down the book he was reading and got closer to the piano, sitting in a nearby chair, eyes following the movement of Logan’s hands up and down the keys.

After a few minutes, Virgil stepped out of his office, smiling at the sound of the music. He looked a little surprised to see Logan playing, but he quickly joined Remus, sitting on the armrest of Remus’s chair, draping his arm over his shoulders. They listened to Logan play together.

When the piece finished, Remus and Virgil both stood, applauding. Logan blushed, looking down at his hands. “L, that was beautiful,” Virgil breathed, moving closer, stroking Logan’s shoulders and kissing his cheek.

“Will you play more?” Remus asked, “Please?”

Logan nodded, pausing for a moment before starting a new melody, this one a little faster.

Remus watched Virgil tapping his foot to the music, swaying lightly. He stood, reaching a hand toward him. “Do you waltz?” Virgil’s eyes lit up as he took Remus’ hand and let him lead them over to an open area near the piano.

Remus wrapped his arm around his waist and Virgil laughed, smiling as Remus led them through swirls and spins across the floor. Remus felt the music flow through him, the easy rhythm of their movements as they danced together. He felt that now-familiar fluttering in his chest grow and expand until he thought his heart would burst out of his chest.

Logan’s playing began to build to a crescendo and they stilled, watching him play. The moment that piece was over, Logan began another. They resumed their dancing.

Suddenly Logan spoke, still playing, “I believe this instrument may be a bit overdue for a tuning, Virgil, dear.”

Virgil froze in Remus’ arms, eyes wide. Logan was focused on the music, rocking as he moved his foot over the pedals, reaching for a higher octave across the keys. “I believe I can successfully accommodate the slight imperfection. Any dissonance is likely imperceptible even to a trained ear. Well, for those of us without supernaturally powerful hearing, of course,” Logan glanced over at Virgil while he played, raising an eyebrow. “Even so, would it be acceptable to you if I made an appointment with a tuner sometime this week?”

Virgil stared and nodded. “Excellent,” Logan murmured, returning his full attention to the music in front of him. “Your jacket is quite attractive, by the way. You made an excellent choice.”

‘Th-thank you, L.”

Logan blushed, still playing. “I do like that nickname…”

Remus watched their exchange, initially surprised by Logan’s tone but he was more concerned by Virgil’s extreme reaction. Virgil grasped at Remus’ shoulders, chest starting to heave. “Virgil? Virgil, are you alright…” Virgil shook his head, knees wobbly. Remus brought him over to the armchair, helping him sit. Virgil put his hands on his knees squeezing his eyes shut, fighting for breath.

Logan looked up, eyebrows knit together. “Is he alright?” he asked Remus.

“I—I don’t know, I don’t know what happened.” Remus shook his head, “He just… I—I don’t think he can breathe.”

Logan stood, rushing over. As soon as he stopped playing, his eyes filled with tears, “V? V, what’s wrong? Here, breathe for us, V, okay?” He knelt in front of Virgil, holding his hands, tapping on his wrists. Virgil’s breathing slowed and he opened his eyes.

“Thank you, my sweet.” Logan nodded, brushing Virgil's hair out of his eyes.

Logan stared into Virgil’s eyes, “Are you okay, V?” He gripped Virgil’s hands in his own, bringing them both to his lips, speaking around them. “That seemed like a bad one.”

That’s when Remus fully registered the change in Logan’s demeanor. He stared at the piano, and then back at Logan. Virgil was watching him, and when Remus met his eyes, he nodded.

After a few minutes, Virgil’s breathing was fully under control. “L, I’m fine. Truly…” He gently cupped his cheek, smiling. “You were enjoying playing that song, please continue. It was lovely.”

Logan’s brow was furrowed and he frowned. “Are you sure?”

Touching fingers to his lips, “I am quite sure, L. Please go back to your music. I feel much better.”

Logan stood and returned to the piano. He gazed once more at Virgil, who nodded encouragingly. Smiling, Logan resumed his playing, a different song this time.

The change was sudden and marked.

The moment his fingers pressed down on the keys again, Logan sat straighter, a small, contented smile curving up his lips. After a few bars, he glanced toward Virgil and Remus, “Did you know that Holst was a music teacher at the St. Pauls Girls’ School in London when he composed this?”

Virgil sat back as he exchanged a glance with Remus, a sad smile on his face. “No, Logan, I didn’t know that… will tell us more?”

Logan’s eyes lit up and he quickly adjusted his eyeglasses at a brief rest, and continued to play. “Holst taught at St. Pauls for several years near the end of his life. He is most famous for this—” he tilted his head toward the piano as he pounded through a crescendo “—his Planets composition, but he also wrote a number of other pieces including….”

---

Logan played for hours, hands still flying across the keys when he could barely sit upright. Finally, he stood, stretching, and stumbled. Remus was closest to him and he moved faster than he thought possible, catching him before he fell.

“Thank you, Remus,” Logan mumbled, focusing his gaze near his hairline. “I must be more tired than I realized.” Logan’s knees buckled and Remus lifted him, carrying him against his chest.

Virgil stroked his hair, “You’ve been playing for hours, my star. Would you like to sleep?”

Logan sighed, eyes half-closed as he laid his head against Remus’ chest. He gripped Remus’ shirt tightly, fingers bunching up the material in his fists. “Do I have to be alone?” His voice was quiet and laced with tears.

“No, my star, of course not. Would you like to sleep upstairs? Or would you rather we joined you in your room?”

Logan looked up toward Remus, eyes trained on his mustache. Even in his exhaustion he still carefully avoided Remus’ eyes. “Both of you?” he asked, his voice full of hope. “Really?”

Remus glanced at Virgil, who nodded quietly, that damned smirk back on his lips. Remus took a deep breath, “If you’d like that, Logan, I’d be happy to stay, as well.”

Logan smiled, draping his arms around Remus’ neck. “Hmm, yes, I would like that.” He grew so still that Remus thought he’d already fallen asleep. A few moments later, though, he murmured, “V, can we sleep in my room?”

Virgil moved closer, fingers still carding through Logan’s hair, “Of course, my star.” Remus felt Logan sigh against his chest, his body’s gentle warmth soaking into his skin. Remus smiled down at him as he could feel Logan’s muscles in his back and thighs completely relax as he melted in his embrace. Virgil murmured in Remus’ ear, too quiet for Logan’s hearing, “The bed is smaller in his room… he likes to sleep there when he’s feeling vulnerable and needs the closeness.”

Remus looked down at Logan’s face nestled against his shoulder and felt a buzzing through his arms, a desire to shield Logan from whatever he was afraid of. Virgil smiled as he watched them for a moment, peering intently not at Logan, but at Remus, then he led them to Logan’s room.

Remus laid Logan on the bed and Virgil helped him out of his day clothes. He tilted his chin toward a dresser in the corner of the room. “Will you get a nightshirt for him?”

Remus selected a soft, long nightshirt printed with tiny stars from his drawer. After helping Logan into the pajamas, Virgil stripped down to boxers and nodded to Remus, who quickly did the same. Virgil laid down next to Logan and Remus came around to lay next to him. Logan sat up, reaching a hand toward Remus, shaking his head. “There’s more room on this side. Please?”

“If you feel…” Virgil began, peering closely at Remus.

“I’m… actually okay. Last night helped,” Remus looked down at the floor.

Virgil grinned, “Good, it was meant to. There’s no shame in that.”

Logan continued to look toward Remus, waiting. A relieved smile spread on his face as Remus moved to his side of the bed and crawled in under the covers. Logan settled in, letting Virgil spoon him, resting his head on Remus’ shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist. Logan was asleep in moments.

When Logan’s breathing had grown slow and steady and his body was completely relaxed, Remus finally asked, “What happened out there? He called you Virgil. ” Remus let out a small, joyous laugh, “He lectured us on music history.”

Virgil gently stroked Logan’s hair. “You got to see a tiny taste of the real Logan today.”

“Has he ever done that before?”

Virgil shook his head. “I… last night I thought maybe for a moment, when he was treating your hand, but…” Virgil sighed. “I didn’t know he was still in there.”

“You're right, you know…” Remus whispered.

Virgil looked up, “Well, of course I am,” he chuckled, “About what?”

Remus gazed at Logan’s peaceful expression, “He’s magnificent.”

Smiling, Virgil ran his fingers through Remus’ hair. “You’re starting to love Logan the way I do.”

Remus looked away, opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally whispering, “Not just Logan.”

Virgil leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss against Remus’ mouth. “You’re not the only one.” Remus’ eyes grew wide and a smile bloomed on his face. Virgil kissed him one more time before murmuring, “Good night, my Prince.”

“Good night, Virgil.”

Virgil moved closer to Logan, threading his left arm under his ribs, then reached for Remus, draping his arm over his waist, pulling him closer. He closed his eyes and slept, the whole universe in his arms. ---

taglist: @dukexietyweek

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