Primum Non Nocere

Chapter 4

“A vampire, Philosopher? Really? I would’ve thought you had better taste in subjects.”

The Scientist lazily stirred his coffee. The Scientist was old, older even than the name he used for his study, but the Philosopher was even older. He still insisted on calling their shared interests “natural philosophy” and “alchemy”. It was strange for someone as venerable as him to waste time on such vapid and, more importantly, well studied creatures.

“This one fascinates me. He is of a type I have not seen in quite some time.”

The philosopher stared wistfully out of the window of the café in which they sat, watching shadows move about on the ground as the light of hell’s unsetting red sun filtered through the trees.

“I have told you my theory of inhumanity, correct?”

“Many times, yes.” The Scientist sighed, knowing The Philosopher would just explain it to him again anyway.

“There is a spectrum of responses exhibited by those who have just lost their humanity. On one end are those who grieve the loss,” he said, holding up one claw. “These people may eventually settle into the change given time and space for reflection or may never settle at all. On the other are those who celebrate the loss,” he continued, holding up another claw. “These people attempt to drive themselves further away from humanity, sometimes to the point of becoming something else entirely. Though most, at both extremes, will edge towards the center of this spectrum with time, nearing closer to the stability of ambivalence.”

He brought the two claws together as he always did when giving this lecture.

“Most vampires, by self-selection, tend to fall on the mourning end of the spectrum. It prevents their populations from expanding too much when it’s members are so distasteful of their state, as they are less likely to want to ‘condemn others to the same fate’. However this has the secondary effect of allowing individual vampires larger pools of prey, and less competition from peers over their territory. This however, is a fairly modern adaptation of their ecology.”

“Oh?” Now The Scientist was interested. He had an inkling of where this might be going.

“This vampire, was self created. He threw away his humanity semi-intentionally.”

“So then I take it he falls on the other end of your proposed spectrum.”

“Indeed.” The Philosopher clicked his beak.

“How far?” The Scientist asked.

“He derives sexual gratification from it.”

If the Philosopher could emote with his beak, The Scientist knew there would be a knowing grin on his face.

“His notes are really quite fascinating. I’ve never seen a vampire go so far, not even during their use in warfare. The next time a summon comes in from a man asking for blood, you ought to take it.”

“Maybe.” The Scientist took a sip of his coffee.

It only took a few days for his curiosity to get the better of him. That was his nature after all. He could not call himself a scientist much less The Scientist if he lacked curiosity. The Philosopher knew that of course, the bastard. He’d refused to let The Scientist see the vampire’s notes, insisting instead he go meet the man in person. It was agony not knowing, so when he felt a call tugging at him from deep in his chest, whispering the summoner’s desire for blood, he did not let his chance slip away.

When The Scientist came out on the other side of the summon he found himself in a studio apartment. Though it was small it was well decorated. Very little of the modernist furniture seemed to be new or from the same set, but the way everything was laid out felt cohesive and intentional, it was the collection of someone who frequented antique stores with patience, a careful eye, and a concrete vision.

In contrast to the vintage furniture, state of the art appliances gleamed in the kitchen. A top of the line blender sat on the counter, both copper and steel pots hung from the pot rack, and an enamel coated dutch oven sat on the stove stored there while not in use, though by the blackening that creeped up its base, it seemed to have received a lot of it. The Scientist could also see pots of herbs growing on the balcony outside.

If The Scientist had to guess who lived in this apartment he would’ve perhaps ventured a professorly older bachelor, but that wasn’t at all the type of man that greeted him. The vampire was a relatively young man, maybe early thirties at most, and he was absolutely beautiful. Not in the way most modern vampires were, their brittleness rendering them beautiful in their ephemerality, like shattering crystal. The vampire that had summoned him was strongly built, like a football or rugby player, with a well kept head of thick, sandy-blonde hair. His blue eyes were bright and unclouded and his skin betrayed a healthy flush. He was beautiful in his lushness rather than barrenness, a beautiful thing to hold and be held by rather than to merely behold for fear of breaking it. As the vampire stood at the edge of the circle he gazed at The Scientist hungrily, his fangs already extended, and suddenly the demon wanted nothing more than to be consumed.

“Is that metal or just a carapace?” The vampire asked.

The Scientist blinked at his directness. Instead of skin the demon had an insect-like carapace with a metallic silver silver sheen, easily mistaken for metal, but more rigid, much in the same way his rigid lance-like tail could be taken for a sword, or his feathery antennae could be taken for a knight’s plumes. It was only when he opened his mandibles that the illusion was broken.

“It is a carapace.”

“Ah that’s good. From experience my teeth can breach chitin but not metal.”

The matter of factness of the statement made The Scientist shiver. The vampire planned to tear into him with teeth. It was his understanding that very few vampires still preferred to use their teeth to inflict the initial wound, using blades more often instead. However the intimacy of it, to have the vampire’s jaws wrapped around his throat, dear god it made his blood rush.

“So then I assume you’re working with an open circulatory system with hemolymph rather than blood.”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

“No, I’ve never had any problems with copper.”

The vampire’s gaze was drawn towards The Scientist’s neck.

“What would you like me to give you in exchange?”

The Scientist recovered himself.

“I heard from a compatriot that you are engaged in an experiment of a sort and keep detailed notes regarding your condition as it progresses.”

“That’s correct. I’ll need an email address to send you the link. I can print them out for you if you’d like but then they won’t update as add to them.”

“I can supply an email address. Though, there is one other thing…”

The Scientist suddenly found he was too embarrassed to ask. Luckily the vampire didn’t have the same qualms.

“You want me to have sex with you? One moment.” He covered his eyes. “I’ve recently found that when others make eye contact with me, it sometimes induces unnatural arousal. Are you still interested now?”

The intensity of The Scientist’s attraction dulled a bit, but it was very much present. It was rare The Scientist found a man such as the vampire, effortless in his sensuality as if he had emerged from a Whitman poem.

“Yes I would still be interested.”

“Alright, so notes and sex in exchange for your analogue for blood? I can agree to those terms. Do you?”

He’d flipped the negotiation on its head, taking the lead like a demon would have when determining terms.

“I agree.”

The vampire stuck his hand into the circle. Again, throwing The Scientist off.

“Doctor Łaska.” He looked at the demon expectantly.

Oh right! He shook the vampire’s hand.

“I am a scientist, that is all.”

“Alright then, Scientist, would you mind showing me where to touch you?”

Doctor Łaska kissed The Scientist’s neck, hard chitin warming at the touch of his lips. The Scientist took one of the vampire’s hands and guided it down to a crack in his carapace.

“Here.”

The vampire felt along the slit with the edge of his finger and then knelt down in front of him.

“How do you feel about hypnosis?”

The vampire began to slowly work him open, The Scientist’s slit unfurling beneath his fingers as he coaxed out his cock.

“To what degree?”

“Only for the purposes of this encounter.” The vampire kissed his thigh. “Just to make you a little more relaxed.”

The Scientist was a little embarrassed he had picked up on his nervousness.

“It’s alright, you just want to be good for me, don’t you? Why don’t you let me help?”

The doctor began to lazily stroke the demon’s cock.

The Scientist swallowed thickly.

“H-help me be good.”

“Of course, darlin’, now why don’t you relax.”

The demon felt the tension leave his body.

“Feeling better?”

The Scientist’s head swam pleasantly as he nodded.

“Good.”

The vampire gently moved The Scientist’s legs to his back.

“Can you sit down for me?”

The Scientist obediently sat and the vampire held him up as the demon rested his legs on his shoulders. Doctor Łaska held him like he weighed nothing, even as he prodded the demon’s slit with his tongue and The Scientist jerked forward, he held him absolutely still, keeping himself completely in control, even without having to order The Scientist to do anything.

It shouldn’t have been possible. The Scientist was hundreds of times stronger than a human, and at least ten times stronger than the average vampire, but yet this one could handle him like he was nothing but a doll. The sheer novelty alone excited him, but paired with the vampire’s mouth around his cock he was melting in the doctor’s arms. Then suddenly he pulled away, leaving The Scientist whining and scrambling for purchase. The vampire ignored him however, bending his head to kiss right over where The Scientists femoral artery would be if he had a closed circulatory system. The demon was quieted by the feeling of sharp fangs being dragged across his carapace. Even though it was the vampire who had asked for his blood, the scientist found himself begging for his fangs.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Take my blood. Take as much of it as you want.”

“Well, how can I say no when you’re asking so nicely.”

He kissed the Scientist’s carapace before biting down. A feeling of warmth suffused the demon’s body as the vampire drank from him. He felt even more relaxed, his mind swimming with the pleasure of being consumed, nothing in his perception but the hot mouth and tongue on his leg. The scientist shuddered and then he felt the mouth leave his leg and the pleasant fog lifted from his mind. He’d already came, the evidence splattering the silver carapace of his stomach.

“How was that? Have I fulfilled your terms to your satisfaction?”

The vampire wiped bright blue hemolymph from his mouth. The Scientist hadn’t came that fast since he was alive.

“Lords of the Pits, yes.”

“What’s your email address?”

The vampire already had out his phone, ready to send The Scientist the link to his notes. Ah, so he was being politely asked to leave.

“May I?”

The doctor handed him his phone and The Scientist typed it in himself. He was tempted to leave his number as well but that might’ve been pushing it for a client.

“Thanks again.” The vampire slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Sorry if it feels like I’m rushing you out of here, there was a scheduling error on my part. I’d like to work with you again if you’d be willing.”

The Scientist narrowly avoided immediately agreeing. He did not want to sound too desperate.

“If the fates allow it.”

Hopefully that was detached enough.

After the demon left his apartment, Kurt had barely enough time to flip over the rug he’d painted his go-to sigil under before his doorbell rang. He quickly popped a mint to try and get rid of the scent of copper on his breath and then opened the door.

“Did you bring the handcuffs?”

Isaac reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a set of leather-lined metal cuffs engraved with a series of runes.

“Yup, pure silver.”

Silver was one of the few things that could actually still hold him. It had something to do with its mystical connection to the moon and the moon’s reflection of the sun, but it was a little too bogged down in arcana theory for him to fully understand it. Gold might’ve worked too, but, even fully human, gold was far too malleable to bind him for long. For what Isaac had in mind, Kurt would need to be bound.

“I might still manage to break out.”

“I know the risks. I know better than anyone.”

Of course he did. He was a vampire hunter after all and Kurt knew that, but the idea that he might hurt Isaac still made him feel like there was a pit in his stomach.

“I ate just before you got here. Would you mind if we see how it affects me before we do anything?”

“I didn’t think we would be doing anything right away.”

Right. Kurt had recently had a long string of hookups without any serious relationships in between. He had to readjust to the cadence of romance.

“Have you eaten yet?” Kurt gestured for Isaac to come in.

“I didn’t get the chance, no.”

“Can I make you dinner?”

“You cook?”

“And I’m not bad at it either.”

Kurt opened the fridge to see what he had to work with. A little bit of tomato paste, mushrooms, he was pretty sure he still had some polenta in the cupboards.

“You don’t need to do anything too extravagant.”

“I like the process. This shouldn’t take me too long to make anyway.”

He did have polenta! Perfect! Polenta was quick, versatile, and reminded him distantly of home.

“I’d feel guilty making you cook if you’ve already eaten.”

The vampire shrugged.

“Like I said, I like doing it. If you still feel guilty you can help.”

Isaac balked a little.

“I’m a bit of a disaster in the kitchen. My mom won’t even let me cook eggs when I’m over. I’d just get in your way.”

“I don’t mind. Even if you’re terrible at it, I still get to spend time with you.”

Christ, how did Kurt say things like that with a straight face. For his part, Isaac was desperately trying to keep a neutral expression. He knew a goofy smile was trying to creep its way across his lips and he knew Kurt probably wouldn’t make fun of him for it, but still it was a matter of pride.

Putting down rogue vampires was a family profession going back centuries. He had access to an exhaustive archive of war stories and defensive spells in Quechua, Spanish, and English passed down and iterated upon through several generations until it reached his hands. In a lot of those war stories, even the very earliest, there was a common warning: don’t fall in love with your quarry.

When he was younger he’d always thought that should be obvious. If he fell in love with a vampire and they went rogue it would be much harder for him to do what needed to be done. Or worse, his partner might decide they liked him too much to let him die and turn him without his consent, theoretically creating a rogue vampire with knowledge of all his family’s methods. The last time that had happened, nearly a century ago, they’d needed to trade information with another one of the old hunter families. All of them kept their secrets well guarded in case of similar emergencies, making it a hassle to actually learn them, and of course now the method of burying the vampire upside down impaled with a sword carved from yew was off the table in case of a future emergency.

Being here was peak stupidity. Isaac was standing in the kitchen of the most powerful vampire he’d ever met and he was helping him chop mushrooms. Well, more like he was mutilating mushrooms while the most powerful vampire he’d ever met chopped them, kindly assuring him that it just takes practice, giving him a rare smile that made him feel like he was going to melt. GOD DAMN IT! Isaac had half convinced himself that he was only here for sex, that he definitely had no other feelings for Kurt besides lust. Lust was acceptable. It was a thing of adrenal madness, a natural by-product of the hunt, but love, love was where things started to get dangerous. When Isaac wasn’t in the same room as him it was easy to pretend he wasn’t falling in love, that he hadn’t been looking over his shoulder at him since they were both residents, but standing close enough to touch him made it far more difficult to deny his feelings. Why on earth did he have to be hot and nice. Even worse, he was goddamn earnest. Kurt would say both the most mushy romantic and the most overtly sexual things with complete sincerity. It was maddening. Isaac felt like he’d somehow fallen into one of his guilty-pleasure, hospital-gift-shop, romance novels, complete with ludicrously stacked pretty-boy on the cover. At least Kurt had the decency to keep his shirt on.

An agonizing hour of mostly stewing in his own anxiety later, Isaac had somehow managed to participate in making polenta with a mushroom ragu without setting anything on fire. It actually looked pretty good too. Though as he sat down he couldn’t help but notice that Kurt seemed uncomfortable. He was rubbing his eyes as if he had a headache coming on.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, it’ll pass.”

He gritted his teeth and Isaac could see that his fangs had grown longer. Kurt had started leaving them out permanently after that first day back. It seemed that in his mind, if people already knew exactly what he was, there was no use moderating his appearance for their comfort, especially when he liked the hard, feral, edge they lent to his face. They were probably around five centimeters long at this point. It was a wonder he didn’t cut himself. Then Kurt dropped his hand from his eyes and his pupils contracted to slits in the light of his apartment. He groaned, blinking as he adjusted to his new eyes.

“Oh wow that’s actually making me a little nauseous.” Kurt grabbed the edge of the counter.

“What’s wrong?” Isaac stood up.

“I don’t really know how I’d describe it, but my depth perception is I guess more specific. There’s more gradation between shorter distances. It’s almost like I put a pair of 3D glasses on top of another pair of 3D glasses. One second.”

He stumbled to the wall and dimmed the lights, his pupils widening to ovals.

“That’s a little bit better.”

He began going around his apartment turning on lamps. The softer ambient light ensuring Isaac could see without making Kurt sick.

Damn it now he was pulling out the romantic lighting too. Flustered, Isaac found himself spitting out the first thing he thought of when Kurt joined him at the kitchen table.

“Your pupils are vertical. Guess that means you’re a predator.”

Internally he banged his head on the table. What the fuck was that line? Christ, he hoped that wouldn’t offend him. Kurt didn’t look offended, if anything he looked like the cat that ate the canary.

“Well we both knew that already.” He smiled ever so slightly, just enough to expose the tips of his fangs. Fuck. He was doing that on purpose he had to be, with his stupid eyes blue like a harbor in a storm, his hair like polished bronze, and his big rough hands. There was no way he was pushing his buttons that well organically. If he hadn’t seen Kurt murder the vampire who would have otherwise been his sire in a closet, he would’ve thought he was trying to seduce him on Doctor Hall’s behalf to learn the family secrets. Isaac knew Kurt didn’t have any ulterior motives, he was a terrible liar, but the idea that all this effort was just to get in his pants was just as uncomfortable. Not because he didn’t want him in his pants, but because he couldn’t see why he wanted to get in them so badly. He couldn't conceive of someone that attractive wanting him without ulterior motives and yet every piece of information he had pointed to sincerity. If he was being honest with himself, that sort of scared him. Though, even more honestly, what scared him more was how much he just wanted to just abandon the pretense and let Kurt bend him over the table and fuck him.

Isaac seemed lost in thought. Maybe Kurt had leaned into the predator bit a little too hard. He was supposed to be trying to be romantic. That probably just came off as creepy. Damn it, he was going to screw this up again.

“How’s the food?” He asked lamely.

“It’s good… I still feel awkward being the only one eating.”

“Do you have a strong stomach?”

Kurt glanced at the mini-fridge on his counter. The one he’d taped a bio-hazard warning onto in case he had guests. Isaac followed his gaze.

“I thought you already ate.”

“I did, but it was a copper based blood analogue. It’s uh- it’s not very filling compared to iron.”

It was still difficult for him to be matter of fact about his diet. He had accepted the reality of it from the moment he first sank his teeth into flesh, but he still felt the gravity of it. It was difficult for him to talk about blood, generously shared to nourish him and make him stronger, like it was a bag of chips. He had a greater reverence for what the blood he’d received represented. The sacrifices others had made to keep him alive, the care, even begrudging, of human donors, the wonder of demons at what he was becoming, staggered him. If anything it may have even awakened in him a reverence for the bag of chips. A bag of chips was not a sliver of someone else’s life in the literal sense like blood was, but it was still the result of hundreds of hours of work from farmers, factory workers, truck drivers all culminating in something most people didn’t think twice about. The logistical processes that brought food to everyone’s tables bled with the time and labor of millions and somehow, he’d only come to truly appreciate that when he no longer needed to eat human food. Instead Kurt reached into the fridge for a plastic IV bag full of blood.

“Last chance.” He popped open the microwave.

“Go ahead, I'm not squeamish.”

Kurt stuck the bag in for about 30 seconds, just long enough to get it warm, before pulling it out and emptying it into a mug he’d made, on the side of which he’d carved the words, “Blood Only!”, and then sitting down to drink. It coated his mouth pleasantly, like particularly syrupy hot chocolate.

“How does it taste, for you?” Kurt looked up and Isaac averted his gaze. “Sorry, was that rude of me to ask?”

“I don’t think so, but then again I’m not ashamed of what I am. Maybe someone with more hang ups would be offended.” Kurt held up his head with one hand. “It depends on a few factors. What kind of transport proteins are in it for example: hemocyanin has kind of a shellfishy taste, and hemoglobin is more like red meat. It also depends on the source’s diet and their stress levels. Cortisol makes the blood taste more bitter than I like, but oxytocin adds a depth of flavor that I really enjoy.”

“I thought you said you liked it when your prey fights back?” Isaac smirked.

“I like it when we’re touching skin to skin and I can feel the strength of my lover’s body beneath me, when adrenaline takes hold and I’m not sure if I want to keep punching or if I just want to fuck my opponent into the ground, when my prey finally gives in and lets me give him what he wants. That’s what I like.”

Kurt could smell Isaac’s arousal growing stronger from here, but he didn’t comment on it. He was chasing him down now, he could recognize the shift in his mindset. The animalistic part of him understood that he was closing in on prey.

“Of course I like a lot of things these days. Like being shackled down so you can use me however you want.”

“Fuck you.” Isaac said halfheartedly. “You’re cheating somehow, I know it.”

“Cheating?” Kurt coyly raised an eyebrow.

“Nobody is this perfect by accident. You’ve got to be cheating.”

“I can tell when you’re aroused,” he admitted, “but beyond that it’s all trial and error. All I really know is when to double down. And what the hell do you mean I’m perfect?”

In the low light Isaac looked like the star of a movie. The golden lamplight gilded the prematurely graying curls of his hair and reflected in strange ways off his brown eyes, making them almost appear red. Every contour of his muscles, built for combat not for show, was highlighted against the darkness. On top of that, he was so delightfully contradictory. Isaac was deadly, he’d almost killed him after all, but at the same time there was a blushing clumsiness to him now that he was out of his element. At the moment Isaac was clearly attempting to avoid eye contact, but his gaze kept sliding back over Kurt’s body and up to his face. When he met Kurt’s eyes he would quickly look away again, as if he could still pretend he wasn’t checking him out. It was almost cuter knowing Isaac could pin him to the ground and cut his heart out, but right now was acting like a teenager with a crush. Dear god, Kurt wanted to kiss him, but he also wanted to watch him squirm until he finally made the first move.

That bastard. Isaac could see by the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth that Kurt was toying with him. If only he was always so easy to read. Isaac could usually give as good as he got when it came to teasing but Kurt was frustratingly inexpressive. The tips of his ears blushed fiercely when he was embarrassed and he involuntarily clenched his fists when he was frustrated, but Isaac still wasn’t sure what all of his tells were. Admittedly Isaac liked the challenge, he got a lot of satisfaction out of slowly figuring him out, his emotions unfurling before him so that they were revealed to him and no one else, but for now it was frustrating. He had no clue how he should fire back. After a moment of grinding his teeth he realized there was still at least one path open to him. Derailing the conversation completely.

“Do you have any movies?” Isaac asked.

Kurt’s head spun with the abrupt change in mood. Enough that he had to think about it for a second.

“Yeah I’ve got some on DVD. If that’s what you want to do.”

After they cleaned up, Kurt showed him to the DVD cabinet. Isaac’s eyes quickly scanned the offerings.

“You only have horror movies.”

“Yeah?” He liked horror movies.

“You don’t have any romantic comedies or anything?”

“Does The Love Witch count? Oh! I’ve also got Reanimator that’s kind of a romantic comedy.”

Isaac gave him a strange look.

“I also have Netflix and all that.”

They eventually settled on Batman and Robin. It seemed both of them enjoyed intentionally watching campy, or flat out terrible, movies and riffing over them with a friend or prospective lover. As the movie went on, the two of them had started to become more comfortable with each other. Isaac leaned against his chest, his warmth preventing Kurt’s body from cooling just yet. Kurt had draped an arm across the hunter’s shoulder, letting his hand rest against his chest, the other idly playing with his hair. The vampire found himself copying the slow rhythm of his breathing despite not needing the air himself. The feeling of a beating heart against his own motionless one was oddly nice. It wasn’t that he missed what he’d given up, but more that he appreciated feeling that Isaac was there, beyond the comfort of his weight on his body and his occasional jabs at the movie.

Kurt had come to realize life was noisy, the processes that kept a body alive resulting in quiet breaths, a thrumming heart beat, the warmth of a body. Living beings output sensory information as much as they take it in. Kurt on the other hand, found that, even despite his size, he was often utterly silent when he moved, the air didn’t warm with his presence like it would for a human. It was harder to tell where he was or where he had been. He could no longer mark his existence just by his presence alone, like the rest of the dead, he only existed as much as he impacted the lives of others. He just had the benefit of being around to change how. Isaac impacted his life just by being here. Just by sitting in his lap and sharing his warmth. Kurt was no longer human, he didn’t want to be human, but just by leaning on him so comfortably, Isaac told him he wasn’t a monster.

Kurt leaned down a little, resting his cheek on the top of Isaac’s head.

“Tired?” The hunter asked.

“No, just like how it feels.”

His hair was soft and smelled faintly of lavender and tea tree oil. Isaac reached up his own hand and Kurt lowered his head so that he could run it through his hair. He practically melted into the feeling of fingers on his scalp, sighing contentedly. A low rumble escaped from deep in his chest. Isaac withdrew his hand.

“What was that?”

“I purred. That felt really nice.” He rubbed his cheek against the side of Isaac’s head.

“But people don’t have the muscles to…” he trailed off, having caught Kurt’s slitted gaze out of the corner of his eyes.

“Humans don’t.” He kissed Isaac’s cheek. “Normally vampires don’t either. Does it bother you?”

Isaac shifted around in his arms. He studied him for a moment, before softly tracing the curve of the vampire’s neck with his hand.

“It’s kind of cute.”

He slipped his hands behind Kurt’s back. Then suddenly his hands were cuffed and he felt the strength drain from his body. He should have become excited at that, the animal instincts should have taken over priming him to enjoy this, but instead, he suddenly felt nauseous. The memory of cold hands pinning his wrists and wrapped around his throat suddenly returned.

“You don’t look so good.” Isaac swung himself off the vampire’s lap. “Let me go find the key…”

“No.” Kurt jumped up and moved as fast as he could to the bathroom door without making himself throw up right then and there. “Just get the door. Keys after.”

The second Isaac opened the door for him he collapsed over the toilet and threw up. It was bright blue streaked with red, almost like a half melted slushy. It would almost be comical if he didn’t feel so awful. Isaac came back with the keys and very obviously tried to avoid looking at the blood in the toilet while he uncuffed him.

“I’m sorry I had no idea the silver would affect you that badly.”

“Wasn’t the silver.” Kurt coughed, the acid burns in his throat closing now that the cuffs were off. He felt the scar on his neck, left over from Doctor Hall’s feedings.

The wound had been torn open over and over again without much chance to heal, leaving a patch of silver-white scar tissue about the size of an index card. Kurt tried to keep the wounds he inflicted down to small punctures or, if he had to open anything wider, relatively straight and clean incisions. Even if Doctor Hall had left him alone long enough to heal properly in between feedings, the deep gouges and jagged tears left by his teeth wouldn’t have healed without scaring anyway.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can-” He retched again but nothing came up. Isaac ran a comforting hand down his back. “I don’t think I can take being restrained.”

“Okay, that makes sense. Do you want to be alone?”

“No!” He grabbed Isaac’s hand, but then hurriedly let go, realizing he’d been a little too forceful. “No, please stay.” He didn’t want to be alone, not again, not like he was before.

“Okay. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?”

“Just hold me please?”

“Are you alright to move?” Isaac worked an arm beneath his legs, resting another at his back, clearly making to carry him.

“Yes.”

Isaac lifted him, he was heavy but he didn’t mind. He had thought he wanted to see Kurt vulnerable tonight, but not this vulnerable. It felt wrong to see him like this, and he felt even worse knowing that he was probably like this a lot before Hall’s death, due to his own inaction.

“Where’s your bed?”

The vampire pointed to a door off the living area. Isaac opened the door and put Kurt down on the bed before grabbing the quilt folded at the foot of it and wrapping it around them both.

“Thank you.”

The vampire relaxed a little under the heavy fabric, though he still sighed with relief when Isaac wrapped his arms around him.

“He- he always just left me there, when he was done with me.” Kurt explained haltingly. “Like I was nothing. Even though we had worked together, even though I was keeping him alive, the only thing he ever treated me with was complete disdain. I can’t imagine treating someone like that after they’d given me their blood.”

“Because you’re a good man, Kurt.” Isaac kissed his cheek.

“I don’t know that I am.” He paused, staring at nothing. “You saw what I did to him.”

“He would have killed you if you didn’t kill him.”

“I didn’t just kill him.”

“So you took some of his blood, you had a debt to pay.”

“I- I took all of it.” He picked at his fingers. “I drank until he was dust between my teeth and I liked it. And that’s when I was still human.”

Isaac suddenly remembered what he had in his arms. He was both a good friend, maybe even a lover now, and something far more dangerous than any monster he’d ever fought, but yet even with those dueling truths he could only pick one response.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person. Though, I don’t know if I can bring myself to feel guilty that you ended up like this anymore. It sounds like I might’ve actually done you a favor by waiting.”

“I keep telling you I wanted this, asshole.” Kurt playfully punched him in the chest. “I could’ve gone without this part, but I don’t regret it.”

“When do you think you’re going to stop?”

“Stop what?”

Isaac cupped Kurt’s cheek and gently dragged his thumb over the sensitive skin beneath his snake-like eye.

“When I stop enjoying it,” he paused for a moment before adding, “or, when I start feeling safe again.”

“I feel like anyone would be pretty hard pressed to take you down.” Isaac laughed a little nervously.

“I know, but I still feel more or less like the same person that couldn’t save himself from getting bit. I feel stronger and more confident, but it isn’t enough yet. I need to feel like I could hold the throat of the world between my teeth.”

Kurt carefully studied Isaac’s face trying to gauge his reaction. He was utterly stone faced, not that his difficulty reading other people helped. He shifted his hand on the surface of the bed and his wrist brushed the hunter’s leg. Wait no, that wasn’t…

“Are you hard?”

“Sorry.” Isaac inched away from him. “I can take care of it myself.”

“No, stay.” Now the panic was forcefully shoved aside by lust. “You like the idea of that don’t you, having your throat between my teeth. Or is it that you want to be fucked by something that could break you in two?” Kurt carefully folded the quilt and tossed it onto a chair as he spoke, like he was talking about the weather.

“Fuck.” Isaac’s breathing quickened slightly. It seemed his flippancy had the desired effect.

“Tell me how you want me to ruin you.” Kurt unzipped the hunter’s pants and slipped a hand below his waistband.

“Fuck!”

“That’s not very descriptive…”

“Just fuck me already!” Isaac’s face burned red.

“There’s lots of ways I could fuck you. I could open my mouth and see if you’re brave enough to put your dick in it, I could ride until you’re dry and then keep using you like a toy until I’m satisfied, I could take you in my arms and pull you apart piece by piece, or I could push your face into these sheets and ‘just fuck you’ until I’m leaking out of you, but you’re going to have to be more specific than ‘fuck me’.” He gently bit the hunter’s ear. “Or if that’s too embarrassing for you, you could always tell me what you’re going to do to me.”

“I-I want you to drink from me.”

“Do you?” Kurt brought his own cock out. “Should I be gentle?” He let his fangs drag against Isaac’s neck as he kissed it.

“No.” The hunter managed, his breath growing more ragged.

“Do you want it to be a hunt then? Us chasing each other through the streets, my fangs versus your stakes and silver, until I finally catch you. Until you see how little your weapons actually mattered. Do you think you’ll still try to fight back when I pin you down and you realize you can’t do anything to stop me? Or will you relax and let me take you like we both know you want me to.”

“Shit!”

Kurt’s hand was suddenly covered in something warm, wet, and sticky. He finished jacking himself off as well before getting a tissue.

Isaac just sat there dazed for a moment. Kurt had told him beforehand that he had more experience on the other side of the ropes, but shit. He almost felt embarrassed at how easily he’d made him cum.

Kurt handed him a damp towel to clean himself off.

“Sorry, I couldn’t really bring myself to do much more tonight.”

“I’m honestly surprised you could do that much.”

“Vampires have high sex drives.” Kurt shrugged. “It’s actually damn annoying. I used to only get really horny for about a week every month before I turned, but now it’s all the goddamn time. Makes me feel like I’m out of my mind.”

“Are you alright though, really?”

“No,” Kurt answered honestly. “I’m not. Though I feel better with you here.” He draped himself over Isaac’s back and kissed his cheek.

“Do you want me to stay the night?”

“If you want to. I think we’re the same size if you want something a little more comfortable.” The possessive animal part of his mind desperately wanted to see Isaac wearing his clothes. To see him walking around in one of his old sweatshirts and know that his scent was on him.

“It better be something you don’t care about, I might just have to steal it.”

Kurt’s brain nearly short circuited.

“I might just want to let you.”