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If someone had told Jonathan about vampires a year ago he would have laughed at the absurdity. It couldn’t have been more than a myth to keep children from misbehaving, a story passed down from generation to generation until the story is different from what it was originally meant to be. But it was not a year ago, and he wasn’t in England.
Jonathan Harker was a vampire, and so was his love, his husband, Vlad Dracula. Being turned around a year ago had opened his eyes, instead of being horrified at the mysteries of the world he was invigorated. Life he could never have as his mortal life was his own in unlife.
Though there was one thing he was still trying to understand.
Feeling, more so hearing, bones grinding together stopped his focus. Dracula smiled at him, “None of the others could do it, I believe you’ll be able to,” pausing “It might feel strange but persist”. Jonathan wasn’t sure he wanted to, the nausea that gripped him made him feel so mortal, so breakable. “I don’t think I can,” he whispered as a hand gripped his chin gently, “I promise, you thought just being is freeing but this will be an entirely different freedom.” Jonathan frowned.
For a moment he felt really stupid, utterly naked in an empty room just trying to will his body to change. Trying to focus he could feel his muscles grow taunt under his skin, bones grinding against each other and a moment of agony. Falling forward onto his hands and knees, he clawed against the ground trying to fight the pain. Bones breaking, snapping, stretching, changing in a way he never should’ve, heat exploded across his skin, hair sprouted up and then it was over. He panted from exertion.
Looking up at the Count who smiled before running his hand across his own newfound fur, “Knew you could do it Johnny”. It felt nice he leaned into the touch before spinning around to catch a glimpse of himself. A gray-brown thick coat covered him, by the time he stopped Vlad was in his own wolf form, black as the night with striking eyes. Vampires have great senses, but something about being like this felt so much more refined. His husbands scent was easily recognized, the smell of death and old soil, he was always right, this was truly freeing. He bowed down in an instinct he couldn’t recognize before jumping to his husband who matched his playful nature. Gently nipping at his mates neck he found he still had the instinctual reaction to want to bite.
A strange sound escaped his snout as he noticed the way his tail moved with him. While he knew dogs tails wagged he never thought about the implications of that applying to a wolf. His body felt looser in some places, but his tail felt rigid even as it moved easily. He shook his entire body before pressing against his husband
It wasn’t long before they were outside, the Count howled to call his pack to him, Jonathan howled in return feeling the urge vibrate through him. It wasn’t long before they were joined, several other wolves padded gently closer, pausing to regard their new pack mate. They recognized him as a being like their master so they didn’t falter long. It was an introduction for both sides, despite most of the wolves looking strikingly similar they all smelt distinctly different. He yelped when suddenly a furry face nudged his side, it wasn’t his husband, a furry face rested on his neck affectionately. Instinctual need he hadn’t felt vibrated through him as he nudged into the embrace and licked the snout of the friendly dog.
A huffing sound showed his husband's feelings, happy and proud of Jonathan being able to change, and amused how easily he switched instincts to essentially cuddle a wild predator he once would’ve feared.
‘Run with me Jonathan’ he practically vibrated when his husband spoke in his head.
And so they ran, fast, together they ran down the mountain towards the river. They ran on snow and ice but their thick fur coats protected them from a chill even the dead could feel. The moon lit up the landscape and at the riverbank Jonathan realized where they were. Looking up to Bran let him see the reverse view of oh so long ago, the area he would’ve lept to his second death from the castle had the Count not protected him.
They shed their wolf’s skin at the river bank where they burn away at dawn. Husbands laying together completely naked covered in gore, staring at the stars above. There were never such clear nights like these in London with such clean air and the beauty of nature.
Shining almost mockingly at him was that shiny little cross, he didn’t know how it was still here. It made his dead heart clench, it reflected the moonlight back at him. Vlad laid silently beside him, could he feel the holy object? He snatched it with his sleeve, it was dinged and dirty, it told the story of life long ago. With a final reverent look he threw it into the river. Vlad curled closer to him, “You don’t need it anymore.” was all he said. And he was right.
They stayed out until dawn hit the horizon and they walked back to the castle together hand in hand.
Slipping back into the castle and descending downwards towards the crypt was easy. As was slipping into their shared casket, they long ago realized having Jonathan come back to life here was enough for him to be able to sleep with transylvanian soil. The earth was a comfort as they slipped into the special coffin Dracula had gotten special after he was first turned.
Curling together as the lid was closed leaving the tight space a comforting dark. Vlad gently stroked his hair, thicker than when he initially arrived at the castle. “I’m so glad you stayed with me” a hushed voice whispered to him. Whether it talked about him not having the strength to jump, to him fully turning while keeping his mind, or even how quickly he melted into touches and affection words, he wasn’t sure. But he could honestly say “Me too”.