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Jayce has an important job. He is a councilor, a notch in the cog that keeps the city of Piltover running like a well-oiled machine. His chair is one of eight, but somehow it feels like the weight of the council’s decisions all rest on his shoulders. He’s the Man of Progress, people look up to him, his face is on a fucking blimp, for Janna’s sake.
Today though, his routine has slipped, and he’s stuck in this council meeting with only one primal thought overriding the rest. It’s an urge he can’t ignore or set aside for later.
Hunger.
Always present, never quite sated, looming in the background like a ghost haunting his every moment. It burns his throat, making every attempt at speaking painful. His veins feel hot and painful whenever he shifts in his seat. They’re dry. Thick and clotted and run-out.
“If we don’t do something about it now, this problem will only grow.”
“It’s already grown, Councilor Kiramman. Next they will be walking amongst us! In our city!”
Jayce sighs, blinking his eyes to try and refocus. He swallows before he speaks up, and it feels like razors dragging at his insides. “Councilor Salo, are you suggesting there are not already Zaunites living here in Piltover?”
Salo scoffs. “Goodness no, I was talking about the damned bloodsuckers. Do keep up, Councilor Talis.”
Jayce freezes. Do they know? How did they find out?
His undead heart forces a slow pump, trying to push the remnants of his last meal through his body, but there’s barely anything left. It’s been weeks. His chest might as well just cave in and end this torment.
Hoksel jumps in. “Yes, yes, I have heard of these places. Deplorable. We must do something.”
“The behavior is concerning,” Mel adds.
“Concerning? It’s illegal! They cannot feed…” Salo shudders, “off of people. Didn’t we fund a whole program for this? The banks?”
“I believe the blood banks have been reporting issues with the donor guidelines. They are having to turn too many people away,” Shoola reminds them.
“So what, they go to these clubs to be bitten like animals?”
“Clubs?” Jayce frowns.
“Have you been paying any attention, boy?” Hoskel grunts.
Jayce feels his fangs press against his gums. He could rip Hoskel’s throat in a second and end the relentless plays at superiority, replacing it with thick gurgles. It would be impolite, but it’s been so long since he’s indulged in warm blood straight from the source.
“Bloodbaths. That’s what they are called,” Mel clarifies, ignoring Hoskel’s comment.
“Bloodbaths,” Jayce repeats. His tongue is heavy in his mouth.
“These illegal speakeasies have been showing up all over Zaun. We cannot ignore it.”
“Tensions are already high in Zaun. If we shut them all down, the citizens will have another reason to rebel against us.”
Jayce shakes his head. “Wait– so the Zaunites, they like these clubs?”
“They’re quite popular,” Bolbok notes.
The council erupts in tense chatter, ringing in Jayce’s ears.
“Oh yes, vampire bites are the new fad down in the fissures.”
“Disgusting.”
“If we don’t shut them down, what do you suggest we do?”
“Perhaps we need more information.”
“But how–”
“I could go.”
Jayce is standing before he realizes it. All seven of the other council members stare back at him, shocked by the sudden offer.
“You? Down in Zaun?”
Bloodbath. Blood. Hungry. Bite. Feed.
He fights the instinct and tries to come up with a logical explanation for his proposal.
“How are we supposed to make decisions about Zaun if we stay up here in the council chambers debating about it? I can go, meet these people, bring back information from the source. If we know why they’re popular, we’ll have a better idea of what solutions to vote on.”
Silence falls over the room, the echo of Jayce’s voice drifting up to the dome of the glass ceiling.
“I think it’s a novel idea. All in favor?” Mel asks, raising her hand.
Slowly, each of the councilors raise their hand. Cassandra Kirammen is the only one adamantly opposed. She was his patron at the academy. Being seen at an illegal vampire bar is certainly a bad look for her family name.
Salo is the last to raise his hand, looking more amused than approving. “They’re going to eat you alive down there, Councilor Talis,” he chuckles coldly.
Little does he know.
~
Jayce stalks the block a few times over before approaching The Last Drop. It’s less discreet than he expected, all flickering neon and bustling with chatty patrons, easily the most popular establishment in this area of the Lanes. The cobblestone streets pool with runoff from the rain, toxic chemical residue swirling into a shiny, immiscible mixture. Jayce can see his reflection below him, eyes dilated with hunger and shrouded by a dark hood that makes him look truly vampiric.
“You are in the right place, stranger.”
Jayce looks up with unnatural speed. A woman with large cat ears and a long cigarette holder between her fingers leans beside the entrance to the club with subtle amusement.
“I know the look of a desperate man. You will find what you need inside. The door is marked,” she drawls, purple haze curling from her parted lips.
Jayce nods, but doesn’t speak for fear of recognition. He hones in on the woman, using his supernatural senses to get an idea of motive. It’s not as straightforward as mind-reading, more of a feeling. Emotions are like smells that waft from each person, every-present and varying in strength.
He doesn’t detect fear. There’s confidence, a hint of amusement, but nothing more. She knows his affliction, but it doesn’t phase her. She’s used to it.
This is not Piltover, he reminds himself before he pushes the saloon doors to step inside.
The interior of The Last Drop is one of a well-loved local bar. There’s a feeling of ease amongst the patrons here, although the sheer amount of them clouds his perception of their individual emotions. The sounds of laughter and clicking of pint glasses surround him, and he feels somehow more out of place than he does in the council chambers.
This is clearly not the vampire speakeasy that his colleagues were so scandalized by. Not a drop of blood has been spilled here tonight.
The second he arrives at that premature conclusion, he finds himself proven wrong. The faintest whiff of old copper tingles against his hunger-heightened senses and draws him towards the back of the room.
The door is marked, that woman had said.
Jayce quickly stomps past a couple getting handsy by the bathrooms and comes face to face with an unsuspecting pantry door.
An unsuspecting pantry door with a faint smear of fresh blood above the handle. As if someone pricked their finger and marked the way for anyone with the convenient ability to sniff it out.
Opening it immediately overwhelms Jayce’s senses.
The smell of violence triggers his salivary glands as his fangs rips through his gums with a brief string of pain. Jayce winces and reels, hand still on the doorknob, as a new flood of emotions reaches him from whoever is waiting below.
Hunger, arousal, pain, excitement, fear.
This is it.
Jayce descends the stairs like a shadow, feet barely brushing the steps as his cloak billows behind him. He has found the gathering he came for. The Bloodbath.
A strong hand suddenly slams into his chest and stops him in his tracks.
“Hey! What the f–”
“Easy there, first timer,” a low voice rumbles from the large man at the bottom of the stairs. He’s easily a head above Jayce, who’s well over six foot himself. This guy is a beast.
Jayce finds himself instinctually growling, baring his fangs at the man standing in the way of his next meal.
“Exactly. You’re bloodlusted. You need to sit for a bit before running in here teeth first, kid.”
Kid? Jayce is a grown fucking man. A councilor, Janna’s sake.
“M’not,” Jayce chokes out, throat dry and clicking with thirst.
“Even a well-fed vamp would feel it stepping in here the first time. We don’t call it a bloodbath for nothing. Let your senses acclimate and your logic come back online first before you actually hurt someone and I have to throw you back on the street.”
Jayce glares. To be fair, even with his unnatural speed and strength, this man could definitely be a problem for him. Plus, his words ring true. Jayce’s whole body is keyed-up with urge he can barely control. So he nods once and relaxes his shoulders, running his tongue along his teeth with settled impatience.
“That’s it,” The man nods. “I’m Vander. I own the joint.”
“Jay–” Jayce panics, remembering too late to hide his identity. “James.”
“Alright, James, we’ve got a couple more rules here.” Vander clasps his shoulder with a large hand as Jayce focuses on not tearing him to pieces. “No non-consensual biting. No turning. No killing.”
“That’s it?” Jayce chokes.
“Bloodbags wear red. Above the waist if they wanna chat, below if they want to get down to business. Remember, some people want to remain discreet here. Be respectful.” Vander nods at Jayce’s hood, still shrouding his face.
“Right.”
“Gonna be okay there, James?”
“Yes. Ask before biting.”
“Atta boy.”
Jayce feels Vander’s hand release his shoulder and he’s stalking forward, taking in the room rapidly from the perimeter and not looking back. He seemed nice, but Jayce isn’t interested in friendly conversation when his instincts are burning in his nostrils and down his throat.
The club is a sea of red, both in the choice of fashion and the stains that adorn the furniture and floors. The smell of blood is deeply steeped in this place. On the dance floor, a young man tilts his head back and sways as his partner buries her fangs in his neck. At the bar, someone is holding their glass under an outstretched forearm, catching the blood dipping down off their fingers.
Blood-drinking is not the only sin on display. Many pairs in various states of undress have claimed chaises half-concealed by sheer curtains. The couple closest to Jayce is fully nude, to his mortification. The woman on top is covered in dozens of bite marks, rocking her hips against the strap-on phallus in the vampire’s lap below her.
Jayce looks away quickly. He’s too thirsty to blush– there’s barely any blood in his system– but his cheeks prickle all the same. He doesn’t plan on a show of exhibitionism. Just a quick bite, in and out.
First he needs a target.
He’ll give credit to the Vander fellow, now that he’s come down from the initial shock of the smell down here, it’s easier to hone in on his other senses. He looks for a suitable bloodbag– red on clothing, purposefully placed. Luckily he’s not picky at baseline, and now that he's starving he cares even less. Jayce is attracted to the full spectrum of gender presentation, which also helps when choosing his prey. Attraction tastes better. Attraction is warm and easy.
He smells fear. His fangs strain in his mouth. It’s sharp, radiating from a singular point nearby.
Jayce doesn’t mean to follow it. It’d be easier to approach someone at the bar, loosened with alcohol and shimmer, and ask for a taste. But something about this fear, so acute in a place like this, makes Jayce’s mouth water.
He finds the source behind one of the sheer curtains, sitting on a velvet loveseat with their fingers white-knuckling the edge of the cushion. Suddenly Jayce is standing over them, taking a deep inhale of their scent and biting back a groan of pleasure. He can practically taste it– hot blood filling his mouth and replenishing every dried up capillary all the way to his fingertips.
“Oh– hello?” The man gasps softly at Jayce’s sudden presence looming over him.
“Hi,” Jayce forces out. The sound of this man’s blood pumping hard with adrenaline thrums pleasantly in his senses, blurring the edges of his reasoning. It doesn’t help that his target is trembling like a panicked prey animal.
He watches Jayce with wide eyes. “Did you want to…”
Jayce quickly searches the man’s body for something red. He’s clearly a human– a vampire couldn’t possibly smell this good or be this afraid. It’s in the form of a crimson ascot hanging loosely around his neck, untied from a day of study in academy uniform.
Piltover Academy, Jayce notes.
More importantly, it’s above the waist, which means Jayce needs to get his shit together and be a gentleman before a chance of scoring a meal.
“Sorry,” he says quickly, sitting down next to his wary target, who flinches at the speed of Jayce’s movement. “You smell good. I’m Jayce.”
Fuck.
“Viktor,” the man responds, clearly not recognizing the vampire sitting next to him as a member of the council. Jayce takes this opportunity to shed his cloak and offer an inviting smile. He can put on the charm. This part is easy.
Viktor’s eyes widen. “Oh, wow, you are hungry.”
Jayce winces. His pupils are probably blown to hell at this point. He can’t come off desperate like this. He doesn’t want anyone else in this club. None of them matter. His instincts have locked into this hunt, and they’ve chosen their target.
Viktor may not know it, but he doesn’t have a choice now.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. Guess I’m coming on a little strong,” Jayce forces a casual laugh.
“That is fine. I assume most of your eh– kind, come here to curb their hunger. It is not surprising. I just have not seen it up close before.”
“Seen what?”
“The fangs,” Viktor says softly, eyes fixated on Jayce’s mouth with a mixture of fear and curiosity.
That explains the fear. Viktor has not met a vampire before. That means he has not been here before, just like Jayce. They’re meant for each other. Soulmates in this biological transaction.
“First time, then?” Jayce grins.
Viktor bites his lip and nods.
Oh, Jayce has him right where he wants him. “Why’d you come tonight?”
Viktor drops his eyes down to the couch cushion, where he nervously picks at a loose thread. “Well, I have some issues with chronic pain that have been worsening and my–”
His low, accented voice fades into the background as Jayce watches his hands. Viktor has beautiful veins in his wrists, blue against the pale skin. So easy to access, and thick with blood that pulses so hard Jayce can watch it and count the rapid rate of his heart pumping pure adrenaline through his body.
Jayce very well be the first and last vampire this man encounters. He usually prides himself in self-control, but with the way Viktor smells, he can’t imagine he’ll have an easy time unlatching his fangs in time to spare his life.
Fuck, he came here to quench his thrist and now he’s plotting murder.
“--don’t want to talk, do you?”
Jayce blinks. Viktor is staring at him.
“Oh. Sorry, you have um. Very pretty hands. Got distracted.”
You should run. You can see how hungry I am. You could end up dead in minutes.
Viktor just blushes again. Jayce can smell the blood rushing to heat his face where sharp cheekbones frame his golden eyes. It’s intoxicating.
“Where do you like to drink from?” Viktor asks.
Drink from… drink from… drink from… Jayce gets dizzy with the thought.
“Anywhere,” he replies.
Viktor lifts his hand and turns it over. He’s trembling. “Will it hurt? I mean– ha, that is stupid. I am sorry.”
Jayce almost laughs. He’s never felt more like an apex predator than he does in this moment.
He’s killed before. A necessity, in his condition, and always unpleasant. Messy. He dumps the bodies deep into the fissures, most of them travelers with no connections in the city. They never got the chance to plead for their life, or even see the face of their killer. Jayce makes sure to attack from behind, crush the windpipe with his jaw and slurp indulgently until there’s nothing left, leaving him alone with his guilt and a blood-soaked chin.
And here is Viktor, who knows exactly the company he keeps and is still offering himself up like a lamb to slaughter.
Jayce gently cradles the wrist offered to him and strokes his thumb over it, watching with utter delight as the pulse jumps at his touch.
“My fangs are sharp,” he finally answers. “It shouldn’t hurt too much. Just a pinch to break the skin. Depending on how much I drink, it might feel tingly and cold.”
“How much will you drink?”
Oh, Viktor, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.
“Tap me if it’s too much and we can take a break,” he offers instead.
Heeled shoes click past nearby, a sudden reminder of the very public setting they’re still sitting in. The curtains don’t hide much. Everyone looking their way will see the act of consumption about to take place. That very fact thrills Jayce.
“Okay,” Viktor swallows hard, throat bobbing. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Relax. I’ll take care of you, Viktor.” Jayce hushes him and reaches his free hand up to stroke the brunette fringe from Viktor’s forehead. “Lay back.”
Viktor nods and leans back against the soft velvet of the loveseat. He laughs and looks up at the ceiling. “This is crazy. Fuck.”
“Shh,” Jayce presses his lips against Viktor’s wrist in a gentle kiss. Viktor shivers. Drool pools in Jayce’s mouth as his careful restraint frays to ribbons.
When his fangs sink into flesh, Jayce is met with the first taste of Viktor’s blood. It rushes from the twin wounds, filling his mouth when he sucks to draw it out quicker and gulp it down.
“Ah,” Viktor sucks in a breath and tenses under Jayce’s hold, but he’s unable to yank his arm away from the firm grip. That initial flee response fades quickly. The smaller man eventually relaxes in Jayce’s grasp and his eyes flutter closed, mouth parted slightly to exhale a sigh of pleasure.
It's a common response. There’s a reason why plenty of the guests here have found themselves in the throes of pleasure after their exchange of services. Jayce has heard that for humans, having a vampire drink from your body is an erotic experience. It’s no wonder these clubs have become so popular in the undercity.
Jayce breaks his seal to check in. “Good?”
Viktor nods, eyes still squeezed shut. Blood spills from the bite mark and quickly runs down his forearm to the crook of his elbow. Jayce licks it in a long, crimson streak before suckling at the source again.
“Mm, Jayce that’s–”
Viktor doesn’t finish the thought. Jayce sucks harder and his words cut off with a loud cry. He’s lost to the bloodlust now, a shell of a monster that only knows feed, feed, feed.
He’s not sure how long he works at the bite. Viktor doesn’t tap him, only squirms occasionally, but his fingers begin to grow icy cold from blood loss. That brings Jayce back to his senses and allows him a moment of clarity.
“Oh Janna,” Viktor mumbles when Jayce releases him again, eyes lidded and barely conscious.
“Woah there,” Jayce chuckles, and a trickle of blood escapes the corner of his mouth. “Still with me, babe?”
“Babe…” Viktor giggles like he’s had too much to drink, but Jayce is the only one guilty of that.
“Mhm, you’re a pretty little thing. You’ll let me have a little more, right?”
“More?”
Jayce pushes his thumb into Viktor’s forearm, just above the wound, and watches more blood gush from the puncture marks. Viktor hisses in pain, but doesn’t pull his arm away.
“You taste so good,” Jayce whispers, leaning in close. Viktor gasps and slides down to lie on his back with Jayce hovering overtop of him. “You liked it, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
That’s when Jayce catches another scent– Viktor is soaking through his pants with arousal.
“Of course you did. You’re already wet for me.”
Viktor’s jaw drops slightly, eyebrows furrowed, until Jayce taps the side of his nose with a playful smile. He looks mortified when he pieces it together, covering his face with his clean arm.
“You can smell that?!” Viktor’s voice squeaks out.
“Shh, no, it’s cute. Promise,” Jayce assures him. “You want more? I can get you off while I drink.”
Viktor glances to the side, out at the dance floor full of people only a few feet away.
“Don’t worry about that. Focus on me.”
Viktor’s eyes flutter again. “Is it true that vampires can influence you? Like mind control?”
“Do you think that’s what I’m doing right now?”
“Feels like it.”
“I’m very convincing,” Jayce chuckles. “But no. My job on the council would be much easier if that were the case.”
Viktor stiffens. “The council?”
Fuck. Oh fuck. So much for a quick, discreet bite. Jayce is spilling more secrets than Viktor is spilling blood. This mistake could land him in Stillwater by the morning.
They stare at each other, neither of them knowing how to react to the slip.
Jayce lowers his voice. “You can’t tell anyone.”
“You– you’re Jayce Talis. Councilor Talis.”
“I mean it, I’ll–”
“What?” Viktor’s expression darkens. “Kill me?”
Jayce digs his fingernails into Viktor’s hips, body going rigid with restraint.
Viktor doesn’t stop, somehow seeing that reaction as a positive sign. “Tell me you weren’t thinking it. I’m already drained. If you bit me again, I wouldn’t be able to stop you.”
Oh, this man has a fucking death wish.
Jayce is impossibly hard, cock twitching in the confines of his trousers. Viktor tries to roll his hips up, but he’s pinned with Jayce in his lap.
“Don’t tempt me,” he grits.
“What if I want to?”
Jayce collapses over Viktor’s small frame again, propped up on his elbows. “You want me to drink you dry? Bury my fangs in your neck until you’re thrashing with every last survival instinct in your body, unable to fight me off?”
Viktor moans loudly and kicks his legs weakly in response. “My neck next, please, bite my neck–”
“You’ve gotta earn that. Open up.”
Jayce grabs a fistful of soft brown hair at the back of Viktor’s neck and forcibly tilts his chin upwards. Viktor’s mouth parts, expression unsure but obedient.
A glob of blood-tinged spit falls from Jayce’s mouth and lands flat on Viktor’s waiting tongue.
“Taste yourself,” Jayce whispers.
Viktor swallows and groans, tasting his own blood, then opens back up for more. Jayce feeds him, working up bloody, pink saliva and letting it drip into Viktor’s mouth until his eyes are rolling back. The smell of arousal between his legs is so strong it’s driving Jayce to the brink of insanity.
“You’re a freak, Viktor.” Jayce leans back and fumbles with the buttons of his pants to shove them down awkwardly with one hand. “And you’re mine, now. My sweet little bloodbag. Letting me drink my fill.”
He only came here to quench his thirst, but he’ll wet his dick when his prey is so willing to spread his legs and bare his neck. Jayce knew they were meant for each other.
They don’t undress completely, just enough for Jayce’s cock to line up with the wet slit of Viktor’s cunt. Poor thing, he’s so needy and pliant for it. It’s too easy to slip the head of his cock inside while he laps at the clotting wound on Viktor’s wrist.
“Mmm, fuck, councilor,” Viktor sighs.
“I said don’t tell.”
“And I said bite me.”
Jayce lunges forward, tilting Viktor’s hips up to nestle deeper inside and finally bringing his mouth to the neck of his prey. It’s too easy.
He scrapes his fangs against the skin there, teasing and relishing in the clenching of Viktor’s cunt around him. “Did you know when you came here you’d end up like this?” He whispers. “Pants shoved down, stuffed with cock, drunk on blood loss in front of all these people?”
Viktor only whimpers in response.
Jayce sinks his fangs in, the sweet pop of broken blood vessels and jugular access better than any strand of shimmer. It’s warmer here, closer to the heart, coating his tongue with a musky metallic taste that mixes with the cologne Viktor obviously smudged over this spot before he came. Little minx.
When he begins to thrust into Viktor, he quickly gets lost in the combination of the two sensations. He’s never revealed his affliction to sexual partners before, so biting was off the menu in moments like this. Now, he’s not sure if he could ever have one without the other.
Someone politely knocks on the wall beside them, and Jayce unlatches from Viktor's neck to whip his head around.
“Apologies, care for an extra set of fangs?” The other vampire offers. His dark, blown pupils are fixed hungrily on Viktor, who’s speared with cock and quickly bleeding out on the couch with short gasps.
Jayce growls and bares his teeth, seeing red at the prospect. This is his hunt. His prey.
They get the warning and promptly close the curtain to retreat.
“Wouldn’t have minded,” Viktor slurs, chest heaving as he fights to stay awake.
“I would’ve.”
Jayce pounds into Viktor harder, holding his hips and letting their skin smack together with the force of their fucking. Blood runs down Viktor’s neck and Jayce smears it over his chest, marking and claiming. Mine.
Jayce knows he’s close. He’s blood-drunk, his frenzy calmed with a quenched thirst, but with the opportunity to over-indulge, he can’t resist. Viktor’s bruised and blooded wrist is brought to his mouth once again, and Jayce opens up a new wound to drink from.
“Take it, take it all,” Viktor pants, eyes rolling back in his skull as he’s fucked within an inch of his life, quite literally.
Jayce sucks in full force, getting a high scream from the man under him. The walls hugging his cock clench down hard and rhythmic as Viktor comes, his orgasm spilling from their union and seeping into the couch underneath.
Jayce keeps sucking. And sucking. Far more than he knows he should take. He holds back his own orgasm until the very last moment, when Viktor’s eyes flutter and glaze over and his body begins to go cold and limp.
In Viktor’s last flicker of consciousness, Jayce pulls out and spills over his chest, painting the already bloody surface of his skin with white ropes of cum and watching the fluids mix pink where they meet.
He only allows himself a moment to admire his work before he springs into action. It’s easy to fetch what he needs– this establishment is well-stocked for blood loss recovery– and before long Viktor is awake, sitting up and wrapped in a warm blanket with a plate of food in front of him.
“Wha–”
“Eat,” Jayce instructs, sliding the plate across the table between the couches.
Viktor grimaces, looking even paler than normal. “What is that?”
“Better not to ask. You’re not a vegetarian, right?”
That doesn’t placate Viktor. Jayce is quickly learning he’s tangled with a very stubborn man. It’s liver and red meat. Good for restoring iron. Viktor makes a face but eats it anyway.
“Drink this too,” Jayce adds, handing him a glass of orange juice. “Iron absorption.”
Viktor looks like he wants to make another snide comment, but he just groans and lifts the glass to his mouth. He chugs it quickly and wipes his mouth after.
“So, a vampire is hiding within the council up in Piltover?”
Jayce nods. His body is buzzing, happy and full. He can’t remember the last time he did more than simply curb the hunger with a cold bag of blood from the fridge.
“You should take at least a week or two to recover before coming back here,” Jayce warns, a new possessiveness in the edge of his tone. “You almost passed out.”
Viktor bites his lip with his dull human teeth. It’s so cute. Jayce wants to eat him whole.
“True. But my usual pain meds knock me out quicker than that. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“So you’re using me as a sedative?”
“Ha, much better than a sedative, Jayce. I understand the appeal of such establishments for my kind now.” The corner of Viktor’s mouth tugs upwards playfully, towards a pretty little mole on his cheek.
“I don’t know if I can go back to smuggling old blood donations from the hospital after this.”
“Then don’t.”
Jayce gulps. “You mean…”
“Drink from me. We can meet regularly. We don’t always have to, eh, you know.”
“That’s crazy.”
“A councilor coming all the way to Zaun to drink blood is already crazy, no offense.”
“Oh please, you came all the way to Zaun to get bitten.”
“Hm?”
Jayce tugs at Viktor’s red cravat. “Nice Piltover Academy uniform.”
“It’s the only thing red I have!”
“Well, now I know where to find you.” Jayce smirks and leans in to kiss Viktor, lips slick and coppery with the remnants of his meal. Viktor makes a small noise of surprise and melts into it, licking into Jayce’s mouth as if seeking more of the taste of his own blood.
Jayce did not kill tonight. He is the poster child of self control. Pride radiates from his body, now so alive and full and warm.
His reward is Viktor, who wants to see him again. Who wants Jayce to feed from him again.
“You won’t be able to run from me, you know. I know your smell. Your taste. I need you,” Jayce whispers against Viktor’s mouth.
“I’m counting on it, Jayce,” Viktor responds, breathless in a way that’s so fascinatingly human to Jayce.
He doesn’t stay long after that. Viktor finishes all of the food and assures him he’s feeling less woozy, and Jayce has to come up with something to report back to the council in the morning.
On his way out, Jayce finds Vander by the stairwell.
“You do infusions here?”
Vander scowls. “I told ya not to kill anyone, kid.”
“He’s fine. Just looking after a generous donor. I’ll pay extra,” Jayce explains in a hushed voice.
“Sure, we got infusions. A necessary service when greedy buggers like you come along. I’ll send Margo over with a kit.”
Jayce nods and points to the corner where Viktor is sprawled on the couch looking embarrassingly dazed. Maybe he did take it a little too far. He’ll have to learn what the man can handle.
“Thank you, sir,” Jayce flashes a polite smile and pulls the hood back over his head.
Vander chuckles.
“No problem, Councilor.”