Work Text:
When Dan thinks of home, one of the first things that comes to mind is that time he almost got hit by a car (and he suspects that says something about his upbringing in and of itself).
It was on the way to the dentist – He remembers it like through a veil, something blurry that takes shape like he’s slowly getting the details of his old favorite show back. The way he’d hopped onto the street without a care, his mother tugging at his arm, hard, pulling him back, the car speeding by.
She’s yelling something, but Dan is barely listening, his eyes still pinned to the spot he was standing on just a moment before.
He doesn’t remember making the active decision not to care to check for cars before stepping onto the street, but he does remember the weird, sinking feeling of disappointment after. The numbness spreading inside. The tiny little voice in his head that thinks “but I didn’t” when his mum yells at him about how he could’ve died.
He was fourteen back then.
Just a kid, really.
In many aspects, his life is different today. He goes to the dentist without his mum now, and he looks left and right before crossing the street, but the numbness, it never fully went away.
Dan thinks this might be an extension of that feeling, that passive lack of care for his life. PJ sure looks at him like it might be, all worried, his brows furrowed.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asks again. “You know how dangerous it can be.”
Dan shrugs. He does know. He doesn’t care.
“I need the money.”
“The money isn’t going to do you a whole lot of good when you’re bloodless and dead.”
Rolling his eyes, Dan takes another sip from his beer.
“You’re being dramatic. Other people do it all the time. It’s a safe program – they have all kinds of security measures.”
“It’s an app. They don’t care about your life, they care about securing their own asses in case of legal problems. You know none of that shit is going to help you if one of them loses control.”
“I need the money,” Dan repeats, firmer now. He’s tired of having this discussion. He’s tired of having to pretend to care.
“I can lend you some–”
“Stop it. You’ve ‘lent’ me money three times in the last three months.”
He actually signs out the quotations with his fingers, because PJ knows as well as Dan does, that he has no means to pay him back. What PJ has done was single-handedly keeping him alive after he got fired from his job for being the literal worst employee they’ve probably ever had walk through their doors – he sold a kid an axe, for fuck’s sake.
“It’s fine. I’ve got the money, I can–”
“- make me feel inadequate and like a dead weight in this friendship, yeah, I know,” Dan interrupts him bitterly.
“That’s not… Come on, Dan.”
“Peej, I love you. You’re a great guy. But you can’t keep paying for me to make it through the month. This app can help. I’ll be fine. They’re only letting the non-feral ones onto the app, anyway.”
“Doesn’t mean they can’t slip up,” PJ says quietly.
And he supposes he simply has a point that Dan is unable to out-argue. Yes, any vampire can slip up at any time, with their teeth in your neck and the bloodlust taking over, feral or not. It’s well-known, and Toothy has legal clauses in their agreement that cover their asses if it should come to that, but none of them protect Dan.
Not that anyone reads that, anyway. People never read the small print before signing up for any app, and this one, Dan can imagine, isn’t any different.
Though, honestly. It wouldn’t be the worst way to go. Definitely better than getting hit by a car. That night, when PJ is gone and the world narrows down to his shitty London apartment with his shitty, cold bedroom and his shitty flickering nightlight, Dan pictures it in his head, and the thought keeps him warm that night. Some hot, mysterious vampire sinking his teeth into his neck. The sensation of his life slowly draining from his body as strong hands hold him in place. His eyes fluttering shut, hot lips on the sensitive skin of his neck, hot blood dripping down his neck as he gets weaker and weaker…
If he rubs himself through his pants, so what. There’s no one here to tell. So he’s a little fucked in the head, so he’s a bit of a slut. So he’s not any better than all the other brainless morons signing up for a vampire blood donation app, hoping to get a hot vampire lover out of it, or worse, hoping to get turned.
Whatever.
Dan never claimed to have his shit together. In fact, he’ll be the first one at any instance to make sure people know he doesn’t.
He comes in his pants like a teen just from rubbing himself through his boxers. That’s the kind of horny and depressed he’s feeling today, but it’s only right, really. Better to get it out of his system now than be painfully, moronically hard when he shows up to be some vampire’s dinner, right?
Dan isn’t sure what he expected. As a kid, you grow up with the classic vampires all over the media – Dracula being the prime example. Black, long capes, sharp teeth, gelled back black hair, pale skin.
Of course, once he grew up a little and learned about real vampires, he should’ve let go of all those clichés, but they stick with you, don’t they? And he always thought they were cool, if he’s being quite honest. A lot cooler than what vampires really turned out to be, when they first came out to the public. Which was, mostly, just normal looking people.
They can retract their teeth. Their skin is pale, but then again, many people’s skin is (Dan being a prime example of that, considering he spends most of his time at home and away from the sun as much as he can). They style their hair like they want to, they buy their clothes in the same stores as the rest of the world, and they’re just. Well. Perfectly ordinary.
Most of the time, you can’t really differentiate them from living people, except when they get really hungry – Of course there’s people who claim they can, and most of the time, they’re not only full of crap, they also seem to get off on accusing random people they hate of vampirism and starting witchhunts against them.
The typical discrimination tactics. A bit of fear-mongering and othering never hurt anyone – except, of course, the people it’s hurting.
Apps like Toothy are looked down on, but necessary. They’re helping for a good ecosystem. Vampires who are well-fed have no need to go feral, have no need to threaten and kill random citizens, and are less likely to lose control over their blood lust. It’s supposed to help reduce stigmatisation – So naturally, it’s heavily stigmatised.
Dan has a (very unsuccessful and inactive) grindr account – he knows the drill.
It’s supposed to be safe, or as safe as it gets with vampires involved. All the vampires have to be officially classified as non-feral to be allowed to sign up. They give their personal data in case of any vampire-on-human violence. They lose access to blood banks and, of course, the app if anything happens.
And in turn, they get regularly fed by willing, living humans instead of blood bags from donation stations.
It’s a sweet deal, in theory. Though now that Dan is standing here, in front of a large apartment building in the middle of London, afraid to ring the doorbell on the name “Lester”, he’s not so sure anymore. It’s a little hard to not feel like he’s an Uber delivery on two legs.
And he’s so awkward – what even is the protocol here, what are the social rules? Is he supposed to make small talk? Does he take off his shoes? Does he even go inside or does he just offer his neck to the guy in the hallway? Should he have brought a scarf to cover up the marks afterwards? Should he have worn something with a more accessible collar?
God, this is so weird. Is the money really worth this? Maybe PJ is right, maybe he should just go home and forget the whole thing. He can just go donate blood like a normal citizen, in a safe donation station set up for this express purpose, operated by humans with needles instead of vampires with teeth and an insatiable hunger for blood.
Though it probably says something about himself that Dan dreads the idea of a social faux pas a lot more than the idea of literal death.
It’s that thought that finally helps him move his hand and ring the damn door bell. He’s being ridiculous – whoever is waiting on the other side of that door needs Dan more than Dan needs him. He can do this. He can.
And then the door swings open and oh God.
Against better judgement, Dan was prepared for someone mysterious, someone intimidating, some older man maybe with dark eyes and an aura that radiates charm, pulls him under a spell.
The man he’s facing right now is nothing like that and so much more all at once. He’s– he’s tall, almost as tall as Dan, with wide blue eyes he swears he could go swimming in. He’s got a pale, dainty face, a large nose, beautiful blonde hair that looks so soft framing his face. A slender, fragile looking body, skinny jeans, a colorful purple button-up shirt with little stars on it and, for some godforsaken reason, two different socks on.
He doesn’t look much older than Dan. Honestly, if he had to guess, he’d say it’s just a guy he could’ve gone to Uni with rather than a vampire looking for a donor.
“Hi,” says Dan when it’s clear that the guy – Phil, according to the app – isn’t going to say anything. He’s just standing there, staring at Dan wide-eyed. “Uhm I’m here for the – uh. Food?”
Phil’s face does a thing, full lips twitching in surprise and then a snort escapes him.
“That’s– certainly the first time someone phrased it like that.”
“Well, I– I’m not sure if you want to– I mean there’s neighbours and stuff.”
“Right,” says Phil. “Come on in.”
He steps aside and Dan peers past him into the hallway. It looks– it just looks normal, to be honest. A bit messy. There’s socks strewn over the little collection of vans and converse and worn-out sneakers, none of them matching.
The guy’s weird, but not in a vampire way, just in a ridiculously endearing way.
Dan slips into the apartment. He feels a nervous flutter in his stomach the moment he hears the door click shut behind him, the sound oddly final.
Unsure, Dan stands in the hallway, looking around. There’s pictures on the wall, Phil with various groups of friends and family, no doubt. He looks happy in all of them, his entire face aglow. He doesn’t look dangerous, or mysterious, or haunted, just… cute. He’s kind of cute.
“So uh– Dan, right?” Phil asks.
Dan nods.
“And you’re Phil?”
“Yeah I– yes. Do you want to uhhh… – sit down? Have something to drink? Eat? What snacks do you like?”
“Snacks?” asks Dan and then, stupidly, he blunders out, “I thought I was the snack.”
Phil is doing that thing again, his lips twitching before he snorts out a laugh, and Dan realises with a weird jump to his heart that he’s trying to hold back laughter and apparently failing.
“You’re definitely a snack,” Phil finally says, amusement apparent in his tone. “But humans tend to get a little woozy after being fed-on, I just want to make sure you’ll eat and drink after before sending you on your way. Don’t want you to pass out.”
“Right.”
Dan’s head is spinning. It makes sense, the donation stations always give away bags of pretzels or crackers from what he knows. Preferably salty food. He feels a bit stupid, but when Phil crooks his head at him, he doesn’t seem judgemental, and his tone is soft when he asks, “first time?”
Dan nods again.
“Yeah I– it was kind of a necessity thing. Really needed the money. I lost my job recently and– sorry. You don’t care about that.”
“That’s alright,” Phil says easily. “Do you like crisps? I’ve got barbecue and salt and vinegar, if you want.”
“Uh, sure. Salt and vinegar sounds good.”
Phil disappears into the kitchen and Dan stands there, feeling a little lost. He looks after him, and sees Phil surrounded by a couple of puzzingly open cupboards, looking for his crisps.
Dan sticks his head into the living room, a large space with cosy-looking sofas, a blanket spread out over it. There’s a TV and what seems to be a rather large blu-ray collection. He’s got a framed Buffy poster hung up above the sofa, and some Doctor Who memorabilia strewn around. For some reason, there’s a whole camera set up leaning against one of the walls. From under the TV Dan sees a playstation controller poking out of a compartment.
“Do you play?” he asks when Phil returns. He turns around to face him, and finds him holding a bag of crisps and a glass full with something dark and red. He gulps, staring at it, then looks up to Phil’s face, feeling the color drain from his own.
Phil stares back in confusion, gaze flickering to the glass in his hands, then back up.
“Oh, that’s just– that’s just Ribena,” he says sheepishly. “Sorry, I should’ve asked, but it’s the only thing I have in and I figured–”
“No, I– that’s fine, I like that, I just thought–” Dan is an idiot. He’s such an idiot. Why would the guy bring out a glass full of blood when… when Dan was about to be the glass full of blood?
Oh shit. The thought alone makes his heart jump to his throat, his hands getting sweaty now that things are slowly starting to feel real.
Phil leads him into the living room, gesturing for him to sit down on the sofa. Dan shuffles to a seat a bit away from Phil, nervously wringing his hands.
“Uh, I do play,” Phil finally says. “I have a really large collection, actually. Eternal life doesn’t seem so bad when you can fill a large part of it with video games.” He grins at Dan, who manages a shy smile back.
“What do you play? Like… Castlevania?”
Phil snorts.
“Actually, no, that’s too hard for me. Big fan of the vampire design though, I watched a playthrough. Almost looks as cool and mysterious as I do.” He chuckles and Dan can’t help but join in. What a fucking nerd. What vampire watches YouTube playthroughs of age old playstation games? “But I am re-playing Final Fantasy VII at the moment.”
Dan perks up, forgetting all about being nervous at the mention of his favorite game.
“That’s like – my favorite of all time!” he calls out. “Are you playing the original or the Remake?”
“I was trying to work my way through but I’m kind of stuck on Sephiroth right now.”
“Oh, no I can help with that. Remember, you just need to–” Dan stops himself, feeling heat steadily rising to his cheeks. Phil is smiling, but there’s some edge to it and now that they’re sitting here, Dan notices that he has dark rings under his eyes, purple and almost bruised and in stark contrast to his pale skin. He’s hungry. “Sorry, I get distracted easily. Not what I’m– not what I’m here for.”
“It’s alright,” Phil says swiftly. “I want you to be comfortable, not stressed. I know it’s probably scary for you, but it’s not– it’s not too bad. Or so I’ve been told.”
“Have you done this often, then?” Dan asks quietly.
Phil shrugs. “A couple times, not– not a whole lot. I usually just go to donation stations. Less social interaction. I do YouTube videos, so it’s better if people don’t know. And it’s a bit scary for me too, you know, you never know who you invite into your home.” He gives Dan a wry smile. “You hear all kinds of horror stories. A friend of mine once had to throw someone out who brought a stake. ‘For protection’. Right.”
“Jesus,” makes Dan. “I promise, I didn’t bring one.”
Phil grins. “Yeah, you don’t seem the type.”
“I would probably just accidentally poke my own eye out with it anyway,” Dan agrees easily, making both of them laugh a little.
It’s hard to imagine, is the thing, and so easy to forget that Phil is a vampire. When he’s sitting here, with his mismatched socks and his easy smile in this nerdy living space, he just seems like a normal, sort of goofy dude, if a little tired. He tries to conjure up the image of him getting bitten by Phil, of sharp teeth sinking into his neck, and fails.
It’s nothing like the erotic, enticing fantasy that kept Dan company last night, and he’d be disappointed if he found the time, but currently the only thing he finds is himself lost in large blue eyes. Now that he sits a little closer to Phil, he can’t help but notice that there’s a whole variety of colours swimming in that ocean. Green and hazel and a tiny golden spark, warm like honey.
“Do you want me to talk you through it?” Phil asks, tearing Dan out of his daydreams.
“Right, yeah. Maybe a little,” Dan says. “I’m not sure– I don’t quite know what to do.”
Phil’s smile comes easy, reassuring.
“How would you. Don’t worry about it. It’s really easy. I’ll bite your wrist – it’ll sting a little at first, but the pain will go away fairly quickly. It uh– it’ll feel good. It’s a vampire thing, it makes it easier for us to find prey.” He gives him an almost apologetic look. “It’s a bit fucked, I realise that, but it’s better if both parties enjoy it, right?”
“That’s okay,” Dan says. “I heard– uh–” He’s shuffling in his seat uncomfortably, and Phil huffs out the smallest of sounds.
“Yeah, sometimes people get hard,” he says, tone carefully neutral. “It’s a normal bodily reaction, don’t worry about it. I’ll only drink a little – you’ll feel a little dizzy after. You can lie down, it’s usually easier, and then just wait it out. The snacks and Ribena should hopefully help and I can close your wounds right after and– yeah. Not much to it.”
He seems nervous, and it’s sweet. Everything about him is so sweet and so not at all what Dan expected.
“Okay,” he says. “Seems easy enough. I kinda thought you’d bite my– my neck,” he admits, voice very thin and Phil looks at him with wide eyes.
“Oh. No. I mean I could, there’s a vein there, but that’s– pretty dangerous and a little intimate. Usually, for casual feeding, the wrist is the better choice.”
“Right,” says Dan. He feels like an idiot. For not knowing, but also for being disappointed. Then again, Phil already defied every single vampire fantasy he’d made up in his head, so maybe it is for the best. “Okay, should we just…?”
“Yeah. Okay. Right.”
Phil shuffles away a little to make space for Dan to lie down, patting his lap with a silly expression on his face, and it makes the whole thing a little easier, weirdly, that he’s just so goofy. Dan lies down with his head nested on Phil’s legs, and feels cool, large hands grasp his arm, holding it tightly. He looks up, getting a close-up of Phil’s face in this position, and finds his breathing hitching for a moment.
He looks really hungry now, something urgent in his eyes, something wild that wasn’t there before. There’s dark veins circling his eyes, prominent against his pale skin now. Dan can see the tip of sharp teeth peek out beneath his lips. All of a sudden, Phil doesn’t look all that sweet anymore, and Dan finds himself having to swallow hard.
“Okay?” Phil asks, his voice an octave deeper than before, suddenly something like honey woven into it, wrapping around Dan, sticky and enticing. He feels his heart beating faster, and feels Phil’s thumb tracing a vein on his wrist, feeling his pulse throbbing wildly, no doubt.
Those blue eyes seem so dark now, storm-grey and greedy, like a thunderstorm had broken out over the sea, and Dan feels himself dropping without moving a muscle, a swooping sensation in his stomach.
He got it all wrong. This is hot as fuck. Phil is hot as fuck. The way he is looking at him now, lets cool fingertips gently trace along the vein in Dan’s arm, leaving goosebumps in his trail… He wants it to never end. Except, he does, because he wants nothing more than those teeth in his flesh.
“Okay, yeah,” Dan says, a little too hastily, a little too eager, his voice a little too hoarse for Phil not to notice. He gives him a crooked grin before leaning forwards, pulling Dan’s arm up to his face.
Dan’s breathing speeds up, shallow and hectic. He can feel hot breath on his skin, and then there’s a tongue, wet and smooth, brushing against the tender skin on the inside of his wrist.
“Okay, it’ll hurt for only a moment,” Phil mutters against his arm, and then, before Dan can reply, he feels the tips of sharp teeth grazing his skin, not breaching yet, just teasing, and he’s not sure he was ever more excited in his life.
And then Phil bites him and it’s nothing like anything he’s ever felt before.
His teeth sink into his flesh like it’s butter. He feels so soft beneath Phil, giving way to him so easily, but it’s perfect. Within seconds, he feels himself sink, his thoughts getting heavy, drowsy while Phil hungrily sucks the blood out of him. He can feel it all and nothing at all. His blood goes so easily, but there’s lips against his arm, unrelenting, there’s a tight grip holding him in place, there’s the way the whole world seems to narrow down to nothing but Phil. Dan can’t move, doesn’t want to, like he’s trapped in a net, a web, turned into liquid honey for consumption. He’s painfully hard in his jeans, but he can’t do anything about it but lie there, enjoy the sensation, the throbbing need building steadily as he tents against the rough denim.
At some point, Phil takes a particularly greedy gulp, and Dan can feel it shake his entire being, and for a moment he thinks he might not stop. Might suck him dry, like PJ had feared, might simply get too lost in satiating his own pleasures to remember Dan was anything more than a blood bank for him, a meal, and he comes in his pants with an embarrassing muffled cry.
When Phil does stop, he does so ever so gently. The sucking eases before it stops, not abrupt, gradual, like he’s trying to help Dan get used to it. When Phil finally pulls off him, he seems to do so reluctantly, licking his lips once, twice, before letting his tongue flick against the wound on Dan’s wrist, licking up a single spare drop of blood as it closes.
He sits back slowly, his hand still tight around Dan’s arm, his head thrown back against the backrest of his sofa as he looks up to the ceiling, a quiet moan escaping him. There’s blood dried against his lips, red and enticing. His fangs are still glistening from it, still sharp as canines, and Dan…
… Dan has never wanted anyone more.
And then Phil blinks and it’s gone. Whatever wild animal he’s caging away inside, he’s got it back under control. His eyes flicker back to that warm beach ocean shore Dan’s drowned in before, his fangs draw back, leaving that easy, unassuming smile, and he wipes his lips with something akin to cheeriness.
“How are you feeling?” he asks Dan, his voice light, and Dan isn’t sure how to answer this. The inside of his pants feels sticky and raw. His wrist doesn’t hurt, but the room is spinning and his head is spinning and his heart is doing weird, painful loops on the inside of his chest. He’s confused, and turned on, and he wants Phil to tear him open and eat him alive.
“Woozy,” he says instead of any of that, because he thinks that’s probably the more socially accepted choice.
Phil nods, and finally that large hand lets go of Dan, who feels weirdly bereft. He lets his arm fall down next to him and looks at the red pressure marks Phil’s grip has left there. They’ll fade, like the bite marks already have. Wiped away as if they were never there.
He swallows.
Before he can say something stupid like “bite me again, don’t stop this time”, there’s an open bag of crisps in his lap. Dan tests out his arm and finds it responds fine, even if he’s a little disoriented, so he sticks it in and grabs a handful of crisps.
They help. The room stops spinning and his thoughts clear a little, the sticky, hazy fog lifting as he eats. Phil holds the glass to his lips and Dan takes eager, hasty sips, then large drags, slowly feeling life and reason return to him.
“Thanks,” he croaks.
“I should be thanking you,” Phil says, smiling brightly. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten this well.” He stretches his arms over his head like he’d just woken up from a really relaxing sleep. Dan watches his shirt ride up, watches patches of pale skin flashing beneath the hem of it, and feels the irrational urge to sit up and reach out.
He doesn’t. He has some common sense left.
“Are you– are you full though?”
Not that much common sense.
Blue eyes flit down at him.
“I’ve taken the safe amount,” he says, which Dan understands means ‘no’. “Do you need anything else?” Phil adds, glancing at him. “Uhm– a shower maybe?”
So he knows. Great.
The only thing worse than coming in your pants like a pubescent school boy at the thought of being drained of every last drop of blood, is the guy who was sucking your blood to notice.
If Dan had enough blood left, he’d probably blush. As things were, he just avoids Phil’s glance, clearing his throat awkwardly.
“It’s okay, really,” Phil says softly, clearly recognising the shame written all over Dan’s features. “You’re not the first, nor will you be the last. It’s a normal bodily reaction to what’s happening.”
“I reckon I’ll just. Take the sticky walk of shame,” Dan says and attempts to swing himself off the sofa. He immediately falls back down, legs weaker than he expected.
“Give it a minute,” Phil says.
Dan can actually not imagine anything more humiliating than being stuck here with Phil, unable to move while soaking in a drying, hardening puddle of his own cum.
“You could help me with Final Fantasy while we wait,” Phil suggests after a moment of tense silence. Dan doesn’t answer, but Phil must be able to tell from the speed with which his eyes flickered from him to the Playstation, that he was interested, because he quickly slipped off the sofa to kneel down in front of the TV, starting up the Playstation and putting in the game.
“I gotta warn you though, I severely underleveled my party.”
He sure did, and Dan can see why he was fucking this fight up – reaching the final boss with that low a level is certainly an achievement though, so he can’t judge Phil too harshly. He makes it work with Barret and Aerith on his second attempt, smiling as he hands the controller back to Phil, who’s looking at him with something close to awe.
“Wow, you’re some kind of Final Fantasy God or something, huh?” he asks.
“I played the game a lot.” The sofa is cosy. Dan lets his eyes drift closed for a moment, enjoying the softness of the pillows beneath him. It’s not quite like he’d felt in Phil’s lap, but it’s nice. In the background, he hears the final dialogues of the game, the familiar tunes of the end screen song starting. Phil is sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, head turned to watch him. When Dan opens his eyes, he finds that gaze on him, inquiring and gentle again.
“Feeling any better?”
It’s not just about the blood, Dan knows from his tone, but also the shame. It’s still coursing somewhere inside his body, but it’s turned into a background hum. He feels relaxed, and a little out of it, but in a pleasant way. Dan nods.
“You can stay, you know,” Phil says. “As long as you need.”
Dan wants to, oddly, but even in this state a part of him is terrified of overstaying his welcome.
“I should go, my flatmate is waiting for me.”
He lives alone, but hey. Rule number one, whether he’s on grindr or on Toothy, is to lie about having someone waiting for you. Or, even better: Actually having someone waiting for you. Someone who knows where you went.
Dan realises he never actually got around to telling PJ. Oh well.
Phil nods.
“Alright. Well– Thank you again. It’s been a while since I had– fresh blood.”
Dan winces.
“Right. Bagged blood must suck. Is it like– I don’t know. Microwaved shit versus restaurant food?”
Phil chuckles softly.
“You know – pretty much.”
Dan gives a sympathetic grunt as he slowly sits up. It goes a lot better now, his feet a lot less wobbly. He makes it into a standing position, trying to ignore the unpleasant sensation in his pants.
“Well if you want– I mean. I have rent to pay,” he mutters. For a moment Phil stares at him, like he’s trying to make sense of his words, then–
“Oh,” he says. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe. I mean…- Yeah. That’d be nice.”
Dan can’t help the little smirk. How can this guy go from hot to cute and awkward so fast?
“Well, you know where to find me.” Dan gives him a little wave, glad that his feet are safely carrying him, and makes his way towards the exit. Phil follows him with a little distance between them, his hand slightly outstretched, like he’s expecting to catch Dan if he falls.
Dan, luckily, doesn’t. He opens the door, one hand on the handle still as he turns around.
“Well uh– I’ll see you, then. Maybe?”
“Yeah,” says Phil, his tone oddly soft. “Maybe.”
Dan feels hazy the entire rest of the day. He spends two hours in bed jerking off again and again to the memory of how he felt – spread out in Phil’s lap, vulnerable, unable to move, held in his vice grip and feeling his life sucked out of him by his wrist. He remembers the heat of those lips, the prick of the teeth, the loopy, addictive feeling of floating and falling and not wanting a safety net whatsoever.
He wonders if there’s something wrong with him or if this is just part of it, if everyone feels this way when being fed on. He’s always looked down at those vampire fetishists and their weird obsession with being bitten, but now he thinks they may have a point.
It doesn’t help that Phil is cute. When he thinks of him, he doesn’t just think of that dark-eyed, starving version of him, of sharp fangs and dark veins, he thinks of pretty blue eyes and easy smiles and wild hand gestures and tender care and encouraging little noises while playing Final Fantasy. He thinks about his silly TARDIS mug and the way he perfectly ratioed the Ribena syrup the way Dan likes.
And then, when Dan makes the mistake to keep thinking about it, he remembers the cameras and he remembers Phil mentioning that he does YouTube videos, and he gets a tiny little bit curious.
After roughly forty-five minutes of extensive Google search, digging into things he shouldn’t be digging in and reading through several pages of vampirism records in a PDF he downloaded three times on accident because he thought it wouldn’t load at first, he finds his channel – it’s called “AmazingPhil”, and it’s silly, just like Phil is. It’s perfect, actually. He clicks on a random video, and there he is.
His hair looks just as soft as it did when Dan saw him today, his skin just as pale, but he’s yet again struck by how normal Phil looks. He doesn’t talk about being a vampire, he talks about his life. People he met, things he did, snacks he’s tried. Dan skips through video after video, watches him put into increasingly ridiculous outfits picked by his viewers, open their mails. There’s animal sounds and silly puns and a stuffed lion toy. He’s got over a million subscribers and every time Dan checks the comments, they’re filled with people just as enthralled by his childlike joy and nerdy beauty as he is.
Dan clicks on some older videos and watches in awe. Phil has dark hair here, a proper emo fringe like Dan had always wanted to have as a teen, and his blue eyes seem even more radiant.
He wonders, for the first time, when Phil got turned. Was he still human here? Was he living a normal life, with his normal mother (who seems just as chaotic and whimsical as her son, by the way), and his normal brother, and then got torn out of it just like that? Did he want to get turned or was it forced on him? Phil talks about a lot of things in his videos, but never vampirism, so Dan hates that he doesn’t know, feels it rise in his throat like bile.
Whose blood did he drink to turn? Did he like it? It shouldn’t matter to Dan, it shouldn’t, but something about the thought sends poison through his veins, bitter and slippery.
And then he gets another thought, illuminating the dark fog in his mind like a lighthouse. Dan’s hands automatically wrap around his dick for the third time today, and he breathes heavily as he slowly, languidly jerks himself off to this new, exciting perspective. Phil, hovering above him, holding his wrist to Dan’s mouth, his free large hand splayed against the back of his head, holding him in place. The bitter, metallic taste of blood against his lips. Dark eyes looking down at him expectantly, honey-sweet voice telling him that he’ll be with Phil forever now, while fingers prepare to snap his neck.
Dan comes with a little whimper, spurting pathetic amounts of cum, already spent from his first three orgasms of the day.
God, fuck. Holy shit. He’s got issues.
“Oh, good, you’re alive,” PJ greets him two days later, taking his shoes off as he walks in armed with two pizzas.
“Told you nothing would happen,” Dan shrugs. Something had happened, he’s pretty sure because he’s not stopped thinking about Phil once, but he doesn’t mention it. It’s probably just something vampires do to humans that makes them strangely addicted to them. Maybe it’s some kind of super special saliva enzyme, like the ones that cause all the pleasure.
“You got lucky,” PJ points out. “How was it, anyway?”
Dan shrugs again.
“It was fine. He seemed – normal. Like we’d be friends, if we’d met under different circumstances. We played Final Fantasy VII while I recovered.”
PJ stares at him, expression deadpan.
“You played Final Fantasy with a vampire?” he finally asks.
“His TV is bigger than mine.”
“Not shocked, if he can afford you,” Pj grins, wiggling his eyebrows and Dan wants to throw him out again, but he can’t risk losing the pizza, so he gets him some soda instead.
“You can joke all you want, but he actually paid pretty well. I could finally get some actual vegetables this month, can you imagine?”
“Wow,” PJ says. “How about getting a job next?”
Dan slides down on the sofa next to him, taking his pizza with a dark expression.
“Haven’t found anything. You know what my CV looks like. No one wants a law school drop out who got fired from a fucking hardware store. I’m a mess.”
“Well, yes,” says PJ. “But you’re a lovable mess.”
“Doesn’t pay the bills, unfortunately.” Dan stuffs his rising anxiety with pizza. It doesn’t fix him, but it’s a near thing.
“You’re not thinking of doing this again, do you?” PJ says quietly, and he sounds actually concerned now. “You got lucky with this one, but if you keep offering yourself up to vampires…”
The sentence hangs in the air, and Dan forces himself to keep chewing for a moment, buying himself time. He hadn’t given it any serious thought, if he’s honest. Now that the thought’s in the room, he feels oddly queasy at the thought of anyone but Phil biting him.
He lets his slice of pizza sink slowly.
“I offered it to him,” he finally says. “To– you know. Do it more. I guess it’s up to him.”
PJ gives him a long stare, his gaze a little too attentive, too knowing.
“Did you like it?” he finally asks.
God, Dan thinks. So fucking much. Too much.
But he really doesn’t want PJ to think he’s a freak – or more of a freak than he originally assumed, anyway.
“It was alright – didn’t hurt much, just left me a little dizzy after. He gave me snacks and something to drink. He was really nice.”
PJ sighs.
“Just – be careful, please? I don’t want you to end up some vamp’s last supper.”
Dan ignores the weird flutter in his stomach.
“You know me,” he says. “I’m nothing if not careful.”
Weeks go by and Dan is convinced he’s not going to hear from Phil again. He uploads new videos, none of them mentioning Dan, or feeding, or anything else regarding vampires. Nobody even suspects him, everyone thinking he’s just a silly guy making videos.
Dan wonders what he’ll do once they realise he doesn’t age, but for now he’s just glad for the videos. He subscribed, and then turned on notifications, and now he spends his evening with nice food he can afford thanks to Phil, and watching him geek out on camera.
It’s weird, he knows that, a little stalker-ish, but what does it matter? He won’t ever see Phil again anyway, so this is– this is preferable.
And then, in the middle of a lengthy video about some incident that involved the hospital and Phil eating superglue – that Dan is pretty sure is made up because why would anyone be stupid enough to eat superglue and why would a vampire ever be concerned about that anyway – he gets a notification on his phone.
To guarantee the safety of the users, both human and vampires, Toothy doesn’t offer a chat function. They set up the meetings, send the address only when a match is confirmed on both sides, that sort of thing. So it’s not a “hey come over, I’m hungry,” it’s an app confirmation clinically, neutrally informing him that Phil has extended an offer. Like his blood is something to be auctioned off on Ebay.
Dan wants. The urge is overwhelming and all-encompassing. For weeks now, he’s told himself that it’s okay if he never hears from Phil again, that it’s maybe better, that it’s safer this way, but now that he got the notification, all pretense falls off him and he feels a surge of heat and relief and yearning stronger than anything he’s ever felt before. He’s jumping off his bed, scrambling for the shower before he even checks the time, place or price offered. He doesn’t care. All he wants is teeth in his arm again.
He ends up at Phil’s apartment a little early, flushed and with his heart racing up to his throat.
He wonders, as he rings the door, how attuned vampires really are to the pulse of a human, if Phil will be able to sense the excitement thrumming beneath his veins like buzzing bees.
And then Phil opens and Dan’s breath hitches and he’s sure he heard at least that – it’s odd. He’s watched him on a screen for the last couple of weeks, and he’s gotten so used to it that Dan has basically forgotten what it’s like to see him in person.
He looks so different like this, taller, more beautiful than he remembers. Those eyes are doing things to him again, warm as he greets Dan.
“Hey, glad you could make it.” His tone is soft as he steps aside on socked feet – mismatched again, a black one with purple donuts and a green one with ugly little ducklings on them – and lets Dan in.
“Yeah,” says Dan because “Me too, where were you, I was waiting for you to contact me for weeks” is probably inappropriate. Probably. “I didn’t think I’d hear from you again, it’s been a while.” He’s taking off his shoes.
That’s a normal thing to remark, right? That’s not giving anything away, is it? Just casual interest. Small talk. This is normal, he is being normal. Right? Right?
Phil gives him a wry little smile.
“The app doesn’t allow for a lot of consecutive feedings. When we’ve fed, we have to put in a couple weeks of a break.”
Dan blinks at him, confused.
“What?” he asks. “Why?”
Phil shrugs. “Some stuffy old human scientist who’s never felt a blood urge in his life decided that that’s more than enough blood to sustain us.”
“But–” Dan stares at him. “But sustaining isn’t– I mean, sure I could live off stale bread for a week, but that’s not exactly nice.”
“I’ve had blood bags,” Phil shrugs again.
“Right,” Dan says. “Stale bread.”
Phil giggles in response and it’s maybe the best sound Dan has ever known to be the cause of, playful and silly and warm, making his chest flutter like something alive.
“Are you sure you’re not a secret vampire? You’re getting it a little too well.”
Dan huffs out a laugh.
“It’s not that hard to get, man. People who don’t are just dicks. I mean, most people didn’t choose to– Not that I’m assuming– I mean, I don’t know whether you–” He clears his throat, watching Phil’s grin widen as he waits for him to dig his way deeper into that particular grave. “Okay, I’m taking my foot out of my mouth now.”
“You know, I never had a foot in my mouth,” Phil says casually. “I wonder if it tastes different.”
Dan stares at him, baffled, then huffs out a laugh when it becomes clear Phil is joking. He’s making a vampire joke. A bad one at that. Fuck damn it. Dan is so enamoured.
“You’re so weird, dude.”
Phil laughs. It makes little crinkles appear at the edges of his eyes, lighting up his entire face. He seems so unthreatening like this, so sweet, it’s hard to believe for Dan that he can turn into that blood-hungry creature he’s seen the last time they did this.
But Dan knows now. Dan has been unable to forget ever since. Dan wants them both so bad it scares him.
“I’ve been told. Uh, I figured we could order some food, maybe. If we time it right, it’ll be here by the time we’re done and you can eat something, get your metabolism back in order. I felt bad just giving you crisps last time, but I didn’t have anything in and it was pretty– spontaneous.”
Dan looks at him, really looks at him. His skin seems papery, eyes tired.
“How hungry were you last time?” he asks.
“Starved,” Phil sighs. “It’s not easy– and I don’t like feeding off strangers. Other vamps, they go to clubs and they don’t have trouble meeting someone who’s into that, but I don’t really– It’s not exactly my scene.”
“And how hungry are you now?” Dan asks softly.
Something in Phil’s eyes changes, an edge of desperation sneaking in. He doesn’t respond, just looks at Dan, who nods.
Poor guy hasn’t had anything but blood bags for weeks, because a stupid fucking app isn’t letting him. What a shitshow.
“Yeah, let’s order some food,” he says, stepping into Phil’s living room without waiting for permission. He sits down on his sofa, stretching his legs out comfortably. “I was fine last time, for the record. So if you want to take a little more today–”
“I can’t,” Phil says shortly. “Toothy doesn’t allow–”
“Yeah, I don’t give a shit, I think I can decide for myself what I do with my body, thank you very much,” Dan interrupts him firmly.
Phil’s mouth snaps closed and open again, like a fish out of water.
“If I mess up and someone reports me, they’ll ban me, and I’ll get banned from donation stations, and then I won’t– I need blood.”
He seems frantic now, his hand shaking slightly as he runs it through his hair, an expression caught on his face that borders on mania. He’s starving, has to have been starving for a while. Of course he is. A fucking sip a month isn’t enough.
This is how vampires go feral, Dan is pretty sure. Driven to it by their own desperation from trying to comply with a society that’s designed to hate and oppress them.
“Okay, but I won’t report you,” Dan says. “And if you need feeding again in a couple days, we can just arrange that without a damn app.”
Phil’s head whips around to him so fast, he would’ve probably broken his neck if he was human.
“You can’t just… offer that,” he croaks. “Have you got no sense of self-preservation?”
“No,” Dan shrugs. “Thanks for asking.”
“Dan–”
“Phil.”
“It’s dangerous,” he says. “If there’s no precautions, no one regulating– I could really hurt you. I could kill you.”
Oh no, thinks Dan, his inner voice more deadpan than ever before (which says a lot). Please don’t.
“You won’t kill me,” Dan smirks. “Because then you’re back to really bad food. Speaking of!”
He raises his eyebrows, looking at Phil expectantly, who stares back, clearly lost in his own little world, until the meaning of his words get through to him.
“Oh. Right. Uhhh… did you want Indian or Italian? Or, I guess we could have burgers and fries, there’s a good place in the area. Or–”
“Pizza’s fine,” Dan says. “There’s a Domino’s around here, right? Maybe order some fries with it. But I’m gonna need dips.”
“Dips?”
“Dips,” he confirms. “I like my carbs with dips.”
“Okay, sure,” Phil shrugs. “What dips do you want?”
“All the dips.”
“All of them?”
“All of the dips.”
Phil stares at him for a very long moment.
“You’re answering the door,” he finally says, his thumb hitting the order button. “Freak.”
But his tone is affectionate and his smile warm, and they both know Dan is not actually going to answer the door, because he’s going to be knocked out and lying on Phil’s sofa, eaten up to an inch of his life, and God. If that isn’t a nice prospect right now.
“Alright, alright, get on with it,” Dan says, and then remembers that he sounds a little too eager. “We don’t want you to be in the middle of it when the food arrives.”
Phil gives him an amused glance, and something about it makes it clear to Dan that he’s not buying it, but he also doesn’t seem to mind.
It eases his fluttering nerves a little when Dan sprawls out in his lap again, looking up to that pretty face. Phil is looking down at him too, crooking his head slightly.
“You have really deep dimples,” he says.
Dan blinks at him, confused. He was expecting Phil to get right to eating, happy to finally get that meal he was craving, but he just keeps looking down at him, his expression open.
“Uh, yeah. As far as face deformation goes, I can hide these away most of the time by just wearing my standard expression.” He looks at Phil with his best bitch face, making him laugh.
“No, I like them, I always wanted dimples. And freckles, I guess.” He looks almost bitter for a moment. “Oh well.”
“You got those really thin veins around your eyes instead,” Dan says softly.
“They’re just kinda scary.”
“I think they’re cool.”
“Yeah,” Phil replies, sounding somewhat smug now. “We already established that you’re a freak, Dan.”
“Oh, bite me,” says Dan and then immediately snorts out a laugh shortly after. Phil is giggling above him, all hunger momentarily forgotten.
“Well, okay then,” Phil huffs out between laughter. “Don’t mind if I do.”
And then there’s cool fingers around Dan’s wrist again, holding it in place, pulling it up. He feels a nervous flutter of anticipation in his belly, feels Phil’s breath against the inside of his wrist. He holds it to his mouth and presses his lips against the tender skin there, almost like a kiss. Dan swears he can feel his entire body succumb to pleasant shivers, already half-hard in his pants before they’ve even started.
Phil’s eyes turn dark again. He watches the transformation happen with his lips hanging open, hungry for something himself, something entirely other than blood. Phil’s vision seems to narrow and shrink, a tunnel focused on nothing but the blood running through Dan’s veins, hot and steady. Phil opens his mouth for a hungry hiss, and the unclouded view of his fangs makes Dan squirm in his grip.
He’s not trying to get away. He’s never wanted to be anywhere more. Fuck his wrist. Fuck everything. He wants Phil to bury his teeth in his neck and never, ever stop.
But Phil doesn’t – Phil, with more self-control than Dan would’ve given him credit for with that eagerness and hunger written all over his face, carefully pricks the tender flesh of his wrist. Dan’s eyes flutter closed immediately, the intriguing mix of pleasure and pain making him gasp out a moan he can’t keep in, and he quickly tears them open again. He wants to see. Needs to see.
And then Phil is drinking from him – His mouth contorted into a hungry grimace, it drags against Dan’s arm. He’s not looking at him, eyes closed as he’s lost in his own pleasure and Dan feels it again. The pull, dragging him into hazy fog. He wants nothing more than to give Phil everything, every single last drop of him. He’s hard and throbbing in his jeans, his head is spinning, every part of his body alight, burning with need, even as he feels himself grow weaker. The desire wraps around him like honey, keeping him in place.
Phil is moaning against him. Dan wonders if he was last time too, and he simply hadn’t noticed, but he manages to notice now. Needy, feral sounds escaping him as he sucks in gulp after gulp, swallowing it down greedily. Dan watches his own blood drip off his chin, all attempts of decency forgotten in the heady ban of his blood.
He wonders what it would taste like if he licked it off Phil’s skin, if he kissed it off his lips. Dan has never liked the taste of blood, too metallic, but right now, the thought seems heavenly.
By the time Phil pulls off him, far too early for his taste, Dan has managed not to cum in his pants, but it was a close call. He’s not sure if that disappoints him or not. He’s not sure that it should. Still – when he looks at Phil, his eyes are still dark, fighting for control, and he’s licking his lips absentmindedly, tongue flitting about laser-quick and greedily.
“Are you full?” Dan asks.
“I–”
“You’re not. Take more.”
“Dan…”
“I’m fine. I feel fine.”
Technically, he feels dizzy. Heady. Hazy. He feels like he’s on the precipice of something, of everything he ever wanted. He wants to cum, and he doesn’t want it alone in his bed with his laptop on again, he wants it here, in Phil’s grip, with his teeth in his flesh, and he has no energy, no space in his muddled brain left to be ashamed about it.
“Phil,” he whines. “Please!”
Phil doesn’t reply, he just grabs Dan’s arm and lifts it back to his mouth, teeth effortlessly finding the biting spot again, and Dan sinks back into bliss within seconds, lets himself fall into Phil’s control completely.
He does cum this time – how could he not, with pleasure running through his veins instead of blood, with Phil above him, relieved and untamed, sucking in blood as if he’s a man in the desert and Dan his only water. He wants to scream Phil’s name, but his voice comes out weak, a drawn-out lazy moan as his hips jut up against nothing.
He sees Phil pause, for the shortest of moments, eyes flickering to Dan’s crotch, to his face, and then back to his arm. He takes another suck, more measured now, another, then draws out his teeth and licks over the wound, closing it for good.
He leans back with a contended sigh.
“God,” he says, and his voice sounds rough, but more like himself again. “I needed that. Are you really okay?”
Dan feels like he’s somewhere far away, not inside his body at all. He manages a nod, but the movement makes the room spin a little faster. He snuggles into Phil’s thigh deeper, hopes he won’t move, hopes he can stay here for a little, and finds himself face to face with a large bulge.
“You’re hard,” he says matter-of-factly. Thinking is hard, maintaining any kind of filter impossible.
“‘Course I am,” Phil mutters. “You’re incredible.” There’s soft fingers carding through Dan’s curls, and Dan wants to lift his hand and feel Phil’s hair between his fingers too, wants to open his zipper and suck him off until he gets to taste Phil on his tongue like Phil has tasted him, different but close enough, but he’s so tired.
He closes his eyes instead, just lying there, enjoying the lightness, enjoying Phil’s fingers on him, so gentle, so caring. He wants to stay in this moment forever. It’s pretty perfect.
… And then the damn door rings.
“Pizza was a mistake, actually,” Dan mumbles, voice weak.
Phil laughs, but no whining in the world stops him from slipping out under Dan, helping him rest his head on a pillow carefully, before answering the door.
“Pizza has never betrayed me like this before,” he mutters when Phil returns, tone still whiny, and Phil sits down next to him, still chuckling as he works on unwrapping their food.
“It’ll make you feel better soon,” he promises Dan. “Can you sit up? Probably better not to eat while you’re lying down.”
Dan tries, but only manages with Phil’s help. He leans against him, head lolling onto his shoulder, and Phil holds up a piece of pizza to his mouth with a worried frown.
“I took too much.”
“No, I’m fine. Just a little out of it,” Dan assures him. He’d probably be more convincing if his voice didn’t slur so much.
“But you–”
“Just gimme the stupid Pizza. I’ll be fine. Stop treating me like a baby.”
He takes a big bite of the pizza. It tastes good. The glorious explosion of taste Domino’s usually gives him doesn’t come, but that’s just because, Dan is fairly sure, he’s had so many more glorious sensations today that everything else has lost its shine. He takes another bite. He takes a sip of the Cola Phil is holding out to him, and the world slowly regains focus.
“Where’s my dips,” he whines and Phil snorts out a laugh.
“They’re on the table, go to town on them, I guess. I swear the driver was judging me.”
“He was not judging you,” Dan mumbles. “He probably doesn’t even know what’s in the order. Now the people at the restaurant, they might judge a little, but what’s it to us, honestly.”
He looks up to Phil, who has a bit of dried blood on his upper lip.
“Mh,” he makes. “Maybe he judged you a little.”
“What?! But you sa–”
Dan can’t think, not in this state, otherwise he’d have stopped himself. But it is so hard to resist when Phil sits so close, and looks so horrifyingly kissable. Dan just has to do it. He can’t resist the urge to taste himself on those lips. It’s metallic and a little gross, but it’s also Phil, and he finds he likes it anyway. Warm lips tentatively moving against his, they’re already enough to make Dan’s heart beat in excited loops, but the memory of the teeth lurking behind those lips, the knowledge of what they can do to him– fuck.
If he had enough blood left to bring up the energy, he’d probably get hard again.
“Now the blood’s gone,” Dan says, letting himself fall back against the backrest of the sofa. “No one’s judging anymore.”
Phil stares at him wordlessly for a long moment and Dan stares back almost defiantly, as if challenging him to say something.
So Phil just doesn’t.
Dan should maybe follow that example but he’s just so pretty.
“I think with dimples and freckles, you’d be unstoppable. Maybe it’s the universe having mercy on us mortals and that’s why you don’t have any. You’re already way too adorable.”
“Wow,” says Phil after a long moment of silence. “Blood loss really makes you say and do absolutely anything, huh?”
“It’s like being drunk, but hornier,” Dan giggles.
“Eat your food.” Phil’s tone is kind, but firm, and Dan doesn’t fight him. Besides, he’s got all the dips. So he digs in.
Phil lets him use his bathroom before he leaves, and he lends him some jogging pants that smell like him. They’re both ridiculously tall people, so they fit better than most of the clothes Dan’s ever borrowed, only a tiny bit short at the ankles. He vows to himself that Phil is never going to see them again. They’re his now. It’s whatever.
“I almost forgot.” He holds his hand out to Phil. “Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in.”
Phil hesitates, but hands him his phone. He’s got a picture of him and his brother as the background. Martyn, Dan remembers from his videos. He wonders if he should mention that he’s seen them, then decides against it, glad that his ability to filter words and thoughts has returned to him. He types in his number, saves himself as “Dan” with a little blood drop emoji, amused that something like that exists, and hands it to him with a wink.
“Next time your’re hungry, just text me.”
“I’m– I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Dan.”
“Why the hell not?”
“These security measures exist for a reason, you know? When you let me keep going today I– I almost didn’t stop.”
His voice is tiny, gaze lowered as he admits this to Dan, which is probably for the best, because Dan suddenly feels dizzy with arousal that he’s sure is visible as day on his face. He swallows down several inappropriate answers and settles for something a little safer instead.
“Because you were starving, Phil. It’ll be easier to stop when you have regular meals. We’ll be fine. Besides – you did stop.”
“Only because– it’s… it’s not easy, is all.”
Dan shrugs.
“I trust you.”
There they are again. Ocean blue eyes flickering up to him, wide and astounded.
“Why?” Phil asks.
Dan genuinely doesn’t know.
“I just do.”
Phil doesn’t answer him, just stares, and Dan can see the conflict on his face. He shrugs again.
“Just text me, alright? We’ll figure it out from there. We’ll be safe, if you need to.”
“You need to,” Phil’s tone is unusually sharp.
Dan grins, his hand on the door knob leading out when Phil’s voice holds him back.
“Dan, I didn’t– I didn’t put you under a thrall, did I?”
“A what?”
Phil looks nervous, normal, white teeth chewing at his lower lip. He looks so adorably human like this.
“A thrall,” he finally says. “It’s– it’s really rare, but sometimes a vampire can… well, it’s not like you’re hypnotised but you become really… obsessed. An enthralled human will do anything for a vampire to feed on them.”
Dan wonders. Maybe he is. It would make sense – he’s spent so much time thinking about Phil, watching his videos, dreaming of him biting him, imagining having his life sucked out of him while he cums.
“If you did,” he finally says, pulling the door open and slipping outside, “I really like it.”
He turns around only once and sees lust all over Phil’s face like a punch.
Dan hums a Muse song all the way back home.
Dan is used to lying awake at nights. When the world turns quiet, and leaves him alone with his thoughts and the urgency to fall asleep, when the shadows turn long and his moments of peace so, so short, it’s easy to get lost in the dark. Those are the hours he feels the safest in, because those are the hours the world lets him be, but all it ever reminds him of is how fucked his life is, how they never last.
The morning comes as surely as ever, and with it all of the problem Dan spent a night mulling over. He’s got no job, no perspective, no ambitions. He’s got no family to support him, no safety net. Just himself and his failures, and sometimes PJ if he has the time and patience to keep him company.
He’s not happy.
He’s not sure that he can be. It’s been so many days of feeling like this, that it’s all Dan has ever known.
But now, he thinks of Phil. Now he fills the quiet hours with videos from him, babbling about whatever silly thing comes to his mind. Now he falls asleep to the thought of dark eyes being the last thing he’ll ever see. Now there’s memories etched into his mind, of the way it feels to have his blood sucked out of him. The phantom sensations still drive shivers up his spine whenever he just lets his mind wander that way.
It all seems so easy when he’s with Phil. There’s food, there’s company, there’s orgasms. There’s that lightness, better than any drug high, when he’s just lying there, slowly recovering from the blood loss. There’s an odd sense of purpose in it too. For the first time in his life Dan feels like he’s actually making a difference, like he actually is somewhere he should be.
Phil texts him the night after he’s gotten Dan’s number. Dan almost hopes he’s about to tell him to come back, that he needs more, but he just asks him if he got home okay.
Dan: I did
Phil: someone there to take care of you?
Dan: just lil ole me
Phil: oh no
Dan: Hey I can take care of myself just fine >:(
Phil: you don’t exactly have the best track record
Phil: didn’t you say you have a roommate?
Dan: I lied. I’ve got one good mate, but he works a lot
Dan: can’t relate :’)
Phil: …
Dan: what?
Phil: you’re not careful enough. I can’t believe you’ve signed up to be regularly fed on by vampires. You’d be so easy to disappear
Dan’s mouth dries up. He wonders if Phil is trying to scare him, is trying to get him to stop wanting to come over to be fed on. If he does, then he’s doing a piss poor job. The only thing Dan can do, with a hand around his dick instead of the phone, is whisper “disappear me, then” into the dark as he cums.
He responds to Phil after, not wanting him to think he actually managed to scare Dan away.
Dan: not vampires
Dan: just the one :)
PJ comes over for some rounds of Mario Kart, only to find that Dan can barely focus. Some time around the third match Dan loses because he’s too busy thinking about his phone, throwing the controller into his lap the moment he crosses the finish line to see if Phil texted back, PJ just sits there and watches with his eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation.
Dan just shrugs.
“Uh, Phil and I exchanged numbers?”
“Did you now?” PJ asks and Dan supposes he deserves the mild sarcasm in his voice.
“He’s really pretty. If you saw him, you’d understand.”
“He’s a vampire,” PJ reminds him.
“Peej.” Dan can’t take it anymore. If he doesn’t talk about it, he’ll explode and there’ll be nothing left of him but a very embarrassing cum stain where he sat. “It’s so fucking hot.”
PJ’s eyes widen. “Being fed on?”
“It’s– I don’t know. I came in my pants both times.”
“Okay, that– I don’t need to know that. Too much information. Christ.” PJ raises both his hands, leaning away from Dan with a disgusted grimace, and Dan can’t help but chuckle.
“Sorry. Just– Damn.”
“Look, I want you to be happy. And you seem happy, you’re all– I don’t know. Glowy.”
“What? As in… radioactive?”
“As in content, you fucking moron.”
“Oh.” Dan laughs softly. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t know. I told him I’d help him feed without the app.”
“Dan…”
“Look. I know you’re worried, but it’s fine. Really. Phil is sweet, he’ll be careful. He ordered pizza for me. With every dip on the menu.”
PJ’s eyebrow is twitching, but it stays down. Dan supposes it’s a good sign.
“You know how much I love dips,” he reminds him.
“I do. And I believe you that he’s sweet, hell, I can tell you like him, I just– That doesn’t make it any less different. You know how strong bloodlust can get, he can still lose control.”
Dan chews his lip, tugging at a chapped bit of skin, tasting the blood with his tongue.
“Part of me kind of wants him to,” he finally says.
“Dan!”
“I’m not gonna– he’s not gonna– it’s okay. It’s just part of the… deal, you know? The adrenaline, the danger, it’s… it’s just really good.”
“No kick in the world is worth risking your life for, Dan.”
“It’s the first time I’ve ever even felt alive,” Dan retorts a little too swiftly. PJ’s eyes widen a little.
“You’re really down bad for this guy, huh?”
In response, Dan opens one of his favorite AmazingPhil videos, showing PJ, who watches with a deep furrow between his brows.
“Oh God,” he says. “I knew you had an interesting taste in men, but this is something else.”
“He’s cute,” Dan says defensively.
“He’s ridiculous,” PJ counters, but he’s smiling.
“Admit it, you feel better now.”
“You said he was sweet, you didn’t say he’s an absolute goof ball.”
Dan grins.
“I kind of really like him.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” PJ sighs. “Just– be careful, okay? A little? For me?”
Nodding, Dan starts up another match of Mario Kart.
He can do that for PJ.
Probably.
… Or he can at least pretend to.
They text a lot over the next couple of days, but Phil never brings up feeding again. They exchange silly memes, cute pictures of dogs, and sometimes when the stars align, silly memes of cute dogs, Dan gives him another two days before he brings up the issue himself, because he figures if he doesn’t, Phil is just not going to.
Dan: Are you hungry?
Phil: I could go for some fries probably
Dan: …
Phil: oh
Phil: uh
Phil: I mean, I’m always a little hungry
Dan: I’m just checking, that means you want to feed, yeah?
Dan: do you need blood, yes or no?
Dan: it’s not a hard question phil
Dan: your refusal to-
Phil: fine
Phil: alright, yeah. Yeah, I do.
Dan: I’m coming over
Phil: Dan!
Dan: order us some fries :)
Phil: … Fine.
“You do realise I can’t say no to you, right?” Phil asks instead of a greeting the moment he opens the door for Dan. Dan slips inside without an invitation, grinning at Phil as he does.
“You do realise you don’t have to, right? I’m offering.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“Fuck, I hope so.”
Phil just stares at him, expression deadpan in a way Dan isn’t buying.
“Don’t give me that look,” he says. “I’ve seen your hard-on. You’re just as into this as I am.”
Phil pointedly lets the door fall shut behind them, sighing.
“Can I have shy and innocent Dan back?”
“Nope. You’ve sucked him right out,” he’s laughing when Phil is covering his face, his shoulders shaking.
“Oh God, you’re a menace. What have I created?”
Dan steps forward, boldly grasping both of Phil’s wrists and pulling his hands down. He lets him do it easily, despite being stronger than Dan, his skin feeling cool and soft to the touch of Dan’s fingers.
“I like you,” he says simply. “I don’t want you to spend the majority of your life starving. I want you to be full and happy so I can beat your ass in Mario Kart. I told my mate where I went. I’m gonna let you have a snack and then eat fries until I feel better and then we have a game night, deal? This doesn’t have to be weird or– sexy or anything.”
“What if–” Phil clears his throat, looking anywhere but at Dan for a moment, before blue eyes find his again, darkened just a little. “what if I want it to be sexy?”
Dan feels his heart start running a marathon, a grin spreading on his face without any of his input.
“Then I’d say we actually get me out of my pants this time, because I hate doing laundry.”
For the first time, Dan feels like he’s the one in control here. Phil is smiling at him almost shyly, and Dan suspects he’d be blushing like crazy if he could, his entire expression bashful. He wants to kiss him so badly.
He blinks. He supposes that maybe he can.
“Can I kiss you?”
Phil’s eyes zero in on his lips immediately, and Dan can’t help but smirk at the sight.
Shit, if he’s enthralled, then so is Phil, and isn’t that the most exciting thought he’s ever had?
“Okay.”
Dan steps forward, feeling nervous apprehension flutter in his stomach like a bunch of wild bats. He’s kissed him before, but he was so out of it at the time, had barely even known what he was doing. This feels different. Like the start of something really, really good.
Phil meets him in the middle. Phil, he kisses Dan like he wants to eat him, which– alright, yeah, he probably does. He sucks his lower lip in between his teeth, nibbling at it slightly. His tongue is a hot drag against Dan’s, and his arms tighten instinctively, grabbing Dan’s waist a little too tightly. Dan melts into the grip, goes slack against Phil, doing nothing but lazily responding to the demanding kiss, already high off the feeling of sharp teeth grazing his lips.
There’s a little prick, tiny really, and Dan can tell that he’s bleeding mostly from the way Phil suddenly moans into his mouth, taking a gentle suck of his lip.
Dan shivers in his embrace.
“Can you go for my neck this time?” he asks, more breathless than he ever heard himself and Phil, in response, shoves him against the wall of the hallway, deepening their kiss.
Dan’s pretty sure that’s a yes.
Phil leads him into his bedroom instead of the sofa. His mattress is soft and the bedding familiar. Dan giggles when he catches sight of the blue and green pattern, making Phil look at him with untamed confusion.
“Sorry, I just– I’ve watched some of your videos,” Dan admits, though the truth would be more something along the lines of “I’ve watched all of your videos several times and jerked off to a handful of them”.
“How did you even find–” Phil cuts himself off, shaking his head softly. “You really are something else, Howell.”
“They’re fun,” Dan offers. “I like them.”
“You’re a stalker with a death wish, and I’m the idiot vampire too addicted to your taste to care. We’re a match made in heaven.”
“Are you?” Dan asks, wide-eyed. “Addicted?”
“It’s all I ever think about,” Phil’s voice is a low growl now, his eyes immediately turning grey again. Dan watches his fangs come out with awe, sharp and pointed as that stormy expression pins him down without any touch needed. “Every damn second of the day, it’s Dan, Dan, Dan. And then you text me things like… like I’m the only one who gets to drink from you and I just–”
He lets his finger trace over where Dan’s carotid artery sits, and Dan shivers beneath him, arching up desperately as he lets his head roll to the side.
“Just you,” he mutters. “Thinking about anyone else drinking from me feels wrong. Phil– please–”
Phil is so fast, faster than any human, as he swings himself on top of Dan, nuzzling his neck with his mouth. Dan trembles beneath him, every clear thought leaving his head, every sensation wrapped into cotton of wantwantwant. All he wants is Phil. Phil, who is grinding down against him now, his ass rubbing against Dan’s crotch, making his breath hitch out as a whimper, hips jutting up against him.
There’s a hand on the seam of his jeans, and then it’s torn from his body like it’s paper, while hot breath fans over the crook of his neck.
“I’m just so… hungry,” Phil moans. “All the time. It’s like the more I have of you, the more I need.”
“So have it, you can have it, you can have it all,” Dan pleads, words rushing out of him in an endless, unconscious stream. “Pleasepleaseplease, Phil–”
And then Phil bites him.
It’s nothing like the wrist.
Dan gets it immediately, the intimacy Phil was speaking of that first time they met. They’re both hard, rutting against each other desperately. Phil’s teeth sinking into Dan has him actually stopping breathing for a long moment, nothing else mattering but the sting. There’s Phil, wild like an animal, drinking out of him with abandon, his face buried in the crook of Dan’s neck, hair soft against his cheek when his eager, full swallows are nothing of the sort.
He lets himself fall – he knows what he promised PJ, hell, what he promised Phil, but none of it matters. He comes within seconds, cum spilling against Phil’s stomach, and is immediately hard again. He feels Phil cum on top of him in turn, spluttering all over him, and wants to see, but he can’t move. The entire world is caught in a haze of gold and red and black, and Dan feels himself drowning, choking, nothing but overwhelming arousal and lust keeping him tethered to the real world.
When Phil pulls back and closes the wound, Dan whines, a high-pitched noise he didn’t realise he was capable of making, and Phil smiles against his neck, kissing the quickly fading bite marks.
“I can’t risk losing you,” he tells Dan plainly, and then he slides down his body, leaving kisses in his wake that Dan wishes, prays turn into bites. He feels the haze again, his entire head heady and slow, and it’s only making the sensations so much better. Phil seems to be reading his mind, and he gives him gentle nibbles, leaves marks that never bleed, but they’ll bruise and they’ll stay for a while, and that’s good enough for Dan. He wants something lasting, something that proves that Phil was here, satiating himself with his body.
And then Phil’s head is between his thighs, leaving bruises here and Dan feels so tender under his teeth he twitches a little. Finally, finally, he can card his fingers through that soft blond hair, can keep him in place when Phil almost pulls back, doubtlessly worried he’s hurt him.
“No, I like it when it hurts,” Dan says simply. “Keep doing it.”
So Phil does. He leaves little bites on his thigh, steals himself a gentle suck of his blood once or twice, and grins when Dan’s cock twitches in response.
“Look at you,” he mutters, hot breath against Dan’s dick making him whine again. “It’s like you were made for me.”
Dan is pretty sure that he was. Some odd vampire God has set this up, a match made in heaven, because he’s never felt like this in his life, has no idea how he survived without it. Nothing was worth it before, nothing, but this.
And then there’s a wet mouth around his dick, and Dan bucks up in surprise, almost coming immediately.
“Holy shit, Phil!” he yelps.
“You taste so good,” Phil mutters around him, the vibrations making Dan’s head swim, blood in his veins feeling like molten lava. “All your blood is down here.”
He’s grinning, pulling back just enough to nibble at the side of Dan’s dick. He should be horrified, should be scared, should pull back, but he’s moaning like a whore, pushing himself against those inviting teeth.
“Please…”
Phil digs his teeth in. It hurts like shit, stings far worse than the bite to his wrist or neck had, and Dan comes immediately, cum spurting out of him while Phil drinks in a couple of lazy gulps, before letting Dan gently roll back into his mouth, tongue swirling over the bites, making them disappear immediately. Dan whimpers like a dog, hands in Phil’s hair gripping so tightly he’d be scared to tear his hair out if it was anyone else, but Phil just hums around him and pulls off, granting his poor over-sensitive dick some relief.
He climbs back up, kissing Dan deeply and it’s so good. He swears he can taste himself on his lips, his tongue, a metallic and salty mixture of blood and cum.
“Next time I ride you,” he tells Dan. “I’ll bury my teeth in your shoulder and bounce you like a–” Dan kisses him because he needs Phil to shut up, needs to because his poor dick hurts and if he gets hard again right now, he might fucking die.
“Cuddles?” he asks, arms stretched out mindlessly towards Phil, like a little child who wants uppies, and Phil chuckles but complies, wrapping Dan up in his arms and holding him against him tightly.
There’s no heart beat as he lies snuggled against his chest, but that’s okay. Dan’s heart is racing enough for the two of them.
“You know, between the two of us, I can’t tell who’s more insatiable,” Phil murmurs. “It should be me, and yet…”
Dan manages a laugh somehow, but it turns into a yawn halfway through.
“‘s just so fucking good,” he mutters.
“Yeah. Yes.” Phil kisses his temples softly. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you when there’s food.”
Dan can’t think of a single solitary thing he’d rather do than fall asleep in Phil’s arms right here and now, in the soft, cosy comfort of his bed, so he does.
When he wakes up and has some food in him, he feels better. Phil forces him into the shower – “You’ve got cum all over you, Dan, no, it’s not hot, it’s gross…. Alright, it’s a little bit hot, now go wash it off, you freak!” – and then they curl up on his sofa, actually playing some Mario Kart. Dan does end up beating Phil in almost all the races, though he’s not doing too bad, really.
“You have had who knows how many decades to practise,” he points out. “How am I beating your ass right now?”
“You think I’m spending my eternal life playing Mario Kart?” Phil laughs.
“I mean. Why the fuck not, video games are like, the one thing that makes life fun.”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but the sex is also pretty good.”
Dan promptly drives into the abyss, having to watch his car get fished out and placed back onto the track while Phil passes him by with a cheerful expression on his stupid pretty face.
“Just for that you’re not getting any next time,” he grumbles.
“Oh, you and I both know that’s an empty threat,” Phil sings tauntingly as he finishes the race in first place.
Dan refuses to let Phil pay him, which will be bad for his rent, but is better for both their sanities.
“I’m not a prostitute,” he says. “I want this. It’s for me as much as it is for you.”
So Phil pays him back in other ways. He invites Dan over for takeaway. He takes him to the movies or theater productions. In fact, the moment he catches wind of the fact that Dan really freaking loves theater, he basically never stops getting them tickets. He lets him sleep over all the time, rescuing Dan from his empty, shitty apartment. Phil’s apartment is so cosy and big in comparison, homely, well- and truly homely.
And nothing beats lazy mornings with Phil all over him, nipping at him when Dan is still half-asleep, slowly sliding from one dream and straight into Phil, coming awake and cumming all over himself before he’s even brushed his teeth.
Most of all, though, Phil lets him onto his YouTube channel. They start with little collabs, and soon enough his viewers scream for more, so they record themselves playing video games and people go crazy over it. They start a joint channel, and Dan starts his own channel, and there’s actual money on his account now. He can pay rent, but finds himself wondering if he should.
Because honestly.
Between both of them and their constant greed for more, Dan finds himself hazily falling asleep in Phil’s arms a lot more than he’s found himself in his own bed. They invite PJ over to meet Phil, and they hit it off immediately.
Dan isn’t sure how it happened, and when it happened, and they never went through the trouble of labelling it at any time, but he’s pretty sure they’re a thing. Like an exclusive, real, together, disgustingly in love kind of thing.
“Okay,” Phil says one night, pulling a face as he pushes Dan away from him. “New rule. No eating cheese before you’re coming over.”
“You don’t like cheese?” Dan asks. “And you’re calling me a freak!”
Phil, inexplicably, gets headaches whenever he feeds from Dan after he ate chocolate, so Dan stops eating chocolate.
He doesn’t even have it in him to care much.
Dan tests the theory on Fryday. He’s asked Phil to leave his bite marks, and Phil in return has bitten his shoulder instead of his neck, so that Dan can hide them for the videos, not even commenting on the fact that he wants them. They both know he’s a freak by now, whatever. He likes them. He keeps absent-mindedly brushing them with his fingers, watching them heal and already mourning them.
It’s okay. Phil will leave new ones.
Normal people, he figures, will just say “I love you” and hear it back and be done with it. He’s pretty sure if he told Phil now, he’d get exactly that. He’d be a little shit about it, maybe, for a second, and then he’d kiss Dan and whisper it against his lips and everything would be white and sparkling and beautiful.
Dan’s not normal people, though, and normal was never something he particularly craved, either, because if it was, Phil wouldn’t have crashed into his life like a rocket.
“How are we gonna do this?” he asks instead. “Logistically.”
Phil blinks at him. He’s gotten very good at following the mysterious, questionable tracks of Dan’s thoughts, but sometimes even he can’t keep up.
“What?”
“Once you turn me,” he says. “How are we gonna eat?”
And he has to give Phil the credit he deserves – he follows this way of thinking immediately, laughing into hands he immediately palms his face with, shoulders shaking softly.
“You can’t just be a normal person once, can you?” he asks his hands.
“Nope,” Dan says. “So?”
“I don’t know,” Phil breathes. “We’ll figure it out. Not– not for a bit, though, yeah?”
“Wanna see if we last first?” Dan grins, knowing full well that that’s not it.
They’ll last. He feels it in his guts, in his blood, calling out to Phil at any given moment, and he knows Phil feels it too.
Eternity is gonna be too short for them.
And it’s funny, because Dan has never particularly wanted eternal life, but at the thought of spending it with Phil, his heart seems to skip a beat or two, excitement colouring in his grey life like fireworks.
“No, you just taste so damn good,” Phil mutters. “Not giving up on that any time soon. You’ve got a few years in you until you’re caught up with the age of my turning, anyway.”
He stretches and his shirt rides up, revealing a patch of pale skin right at the seam of his pants. Dan leans in ever so quickly, sucking in a mark as Phil giggles beneath him.
“Can’t wait to finally get to bite you for once,” Dan grins. “Properly, I mean.”
“Mhh,” Phil hums. “Me too, you freak.”
As it turns out, when Dan does his research, there’s quite a lot of forums where people offer to be the shared meal of vampire couples. Apparently it’s hot, or whatever. He suggests it to Phil and watches him drop his phone through suddenly slippery fingers, voice hoarse when he says that yes, yeah, that’s a pretty hot thing to do, actually.
Dan grins and does some more research. Vampires definitely still drink from each other, and while it doesn’t satiate any immediate need for human blood, from the sounds of it, it’s still incredibly erotic.
He figures their thrills might just be fine.
But until then, he enjoys what they have. Which right now, is Phil on top of him, teeth buried deeply into his neck, drinking his fill.
“Do you ever just… want to drink me dry?” he asks.
He’s gotten a lot better at keeping some of his mind during feeding sessions and sex, but it’s still a battle through beautifully thick fog each and every time. Dan is as addicted to it as breathing, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“All the fucking time,” Phil groans against him, even as he closes his wounds.
Dan manages a soft smile.
“Me too,” he says. “Roleplay?” he suggests.
“I don’t know… if I remembered… I was acting.” Phil is turned on beyond belief, Dan is fairly sure, his face buried in the crook of Dan’s neck with an almost tortured expression hiding against his skin, but hiding from him has long stopped being effective. Dan knows him too well.
“Eh,” he says. “Win some, lose some.”
Phil kicks him against the shin and Dan laughs.
“I’m joking. Kind of. I trust you. You love me too much to kill me, I’m just that great.”
“One day I will kill you just to shut you up,” Phil murmurs but, ironically enough, there’s no real bite in his tone.
“Come on, I never got the experience of a big, bad vampire making me his prey and threatening to suck me dry,” Dan pouts. “You were way too nice from the start.”
“I’m not even sure I can pull it off,” Phil sighs. “I’m all nice and squishy.”
“You can.” Dan’s reply comes swiftly, hastily, because he’s seen Phil when he gives in to blood lust, and Phil has no idea what he looks like, sounds like, feels like when he gets like that. “You can.”
Phil looks at him for a long time.
“Fine, but you’re not allowed to laugh.”
“I’d never laugh!” Dan promises.
Dan absolutely laughs, but neither of them mind, and it still end up fucking hot in the end.
It’s just part of who they are.
He wouldn’t want it any other way.