Chapter Text
Show Me Your Teeth
Chapter One: Teeth
It had been bothering Mob for days.
He was currently in the Tundra biome. After traveling for days on end, they had finally stopped and found an inn in the village they happened upon. Quickly getting a room and acquired the appropriate clothing.
Mob was currently in that room along with Verity, who, while he was hesitant at first, was starting to grow on him again. It had been weeks since that fateful incident, and the time since had changed them both, with a more dramatic change happening on Verity's end.
The AI assistant had apparently decided that traveling together and putting some distance between them and the awful memories that plagued their base and surrounding area would be good for them.
He also apparently decided that it was necessary for him to grow limbs and a body and a face for their travels. Honestly, Mob wasn't entirely convinced that he wasn't hallucinating the slightly yellowish man who was currently sitting at the dinner table with some type of panel—similar to the one Mob had whenever he wanted to go and make changes to this world— pulled up in front of him.
His face, which looked oddly attractive to Mob, was scrunched up as he concentrated on the lines of code? Data? He was looking at. They had been in the tundra for a little more than four days, and his helper had grown more and more antsy the more days passed. Constantly looking at his—whatever—to try and…to try and…honestly, Mob had no idea what he was trying to do.
All he knew was that whatever he was trying to do wasn't working.
However, that wasn't what was bothering the enderman hybrid, no.
It was the protrusions in Verity's mouth that kept catching the light, or that would be biting and softly wearing the other's lips whenever he was deep in thought. Protrusions that seemed out of place amongst the other perfect teeth lining his mouth. Why? Because these teeth were undoubtedly sharper and longer than the ones surrounding them.
And it was driving Mob crazy.
It wasn't like the other ate or anything like that since they had been here for days and Mob had yet to see the other take a sip of water. His mind flashed back to that night at the tower, and he felt himself involuntarily shiver at the memory, the fear that had taken hold of him then rearing its ugly ass head and coming back to reclaim his body.
Well, he didn't eat in this form.
But then what could the fangs—yes, fangs—be used for? He hadn't seen Verity even glance at any type of food. Humans or animals otherwise.
Maybe that's why it bothered him, since over a week ago, before they embarked on their journey, Mob had come back to his base and found the yellow ball strangely absent from where he'd left it on his bed as an eerie silence filled the space.
For a second, he thought that something had happened to Verity, that one of the locals, despite the missing villagers causing fear and anxiety in the community, making them wary of foreigners, may have followed them back home and taken him. He had seen how some of them regarded his yellow friend, and he could see the want and greed in their eyes when he didn't allow for him to be traded.
But then a pair of gloved hands covered his eyes, obscuring his vision. And just when he was about to pull out his sword and attack whoever thought they could get the jump on him like this, he felt the person's breath fan his ear, causing a sudden shiver to travel down his spine. " Guess who?"
The question was whispered in the shell of his ear, sending more tingles down his spine, and suddenly it felt like every sense he had was geared towards the mysterious voice.
Except he knew that voice. It was deeper than usual, but he'd know that voice anywhere.
"Verity?" He guessed, his response coming out a little breathier than he would've liked.
He heard the other—Verity—let out a light chuckle, his voice returning to its normal, more chirpy pitch, " Good job, Mob! I knew you'd recognize me." The hands covering his eyes fell away, and he was treated to a healthy eye full of the new and improved Verity.
He was a head taller, maybe a head and a half, than him and seemingly buff too, if the way some of his muscles looked against the fabric of his outfit was anything to go by. The outfit in question was a gold colored vest with a black undershirt and a red tie. He was wearing normal, black dress pants and a matching black dress shoe.
Now while his mind distantly wondered how he'd even found or gotten those clothes, what really caught his attention was his face. And he meant face.
Where he expected there to be a floating yellow ball for a head was instead the sight of a normal, human face. His hair was short but cute, with yellow bangs framing his face. All in all, Verity was very attractive. Seriously, the man just had to make himself handsome.
Unbelievable.
His lips were drawn in that familiar smile as he regarded Mob curiously, " So? What do you think?"
Mob felt blush creeping onto his face for some unknown reason, " You look fine, I guess." He mumbled, earning another chuckle from the other man.
After that, they sat on his bed, and Mob couldn't help but ask him some questions related to this new form. Where he discovered that his new form was apparently best for what he wanted them to do (travel), and that every feature he had chosen was there to maximize his appearance to fit some type of criteria. Honestly, Mob had zoned out on the rest of the conversation, too busy staring at Verity.
But the point is, every trait supposedly serves a purpose; therefore, if Verity had fangs, then they too serve a purpose. The question was what?
Mob began to bounce his knee, restless. How was he even supposed to breach that subject? Without being weird about it, that is.
He had no idea, but he knew if he didn't mention or bring it up soon, the burning need to know was going to eat him up alive. So with that thought in mind, Mob grabbed an apple that he was saving and got up, heading over to the table Verity was seated at. Flopping down in the chair with more force and dramatics than he needed to draw the other's attention. Which ultimately crashed and burned when the other's eyes stayed glued to the panel in front of him. He let out a loud huff, taking a rough bite out of the apple in his hand as he regarded Verity.
' Stupid, AI. What purpose could being attractive possibly serve outside of sometimes having a get-out-of-jail-free card? And who decided that what form you took was attractive? Stupid AI.'
Without him realizing, his knee began to bounce again, and this time Verity seemed to snap out of his laser concentration. " Mob, your knee is bouncing," he made the very astute observation.
'Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Tell me something I don't know.'
Verity blinked at him. " Is something the matter?" His knee stopped in it's insent movement as Mob took another bite out of his apple. He made a vague gesture in the direction of his friend (God, do they even count as friends? Mob would say so.) " Remind me again why you took that form," he skillful side stepped the other's question.
Verity blinked at him again and tilted his head as if he were contemplating something before his trademark smile made its way onto his face, if a bit more…amused than usual.
" Of course, Mob!" He started in that chirpy tone of his, " I chose this form because it makes it easier for me to move around and allows me to do more on our travels than if I was still in my original form."
Mob bristled a little; it still doesn't explain the fangs. " And you chose your physical attributes how again?"
Verity's smile deepened, " Based on what others may find attractive." Mob rolled his eyes, " And who—" Just then Verity stood, made his way around the table, and snatched Mob's apple from his grasp. Mob was shocked, his brain still working to catch up to what had happened, when Verity spoke up again, " But let's cut to the chase, Mob. We both know that isn't what you really wanted to ask me." He called him out whilst keeping his gaze on the half-eaten apple in his hand. His gaze landed on the enderman hybrid, who was still in shock and—without breaking eye contact—took a bite out of the apple, his fangs on full display as Mob watched them sink into the red fruit. Only one thought came out of the mess that was his mind at that moment: 'I wish that was me.'
Verity broke into a full-on grin then, his expression full with nothing but mirth, his canines on full display, " Oh? Now isn't that an interesting thought." Verity's voice had dropped into that lower octave that did weird things to Mob. And suddenly his body and face felt a bit hot, but his comment was enough to snap Mob out of whatever he was in, and he snatched his apple back from the other.
" What the hell, man? I was eating that." He demanded, conveniently ignoring Verity's other comment and conveniently ignoring the way his voice sent feelings of…something down his spine. ( He refused to acknowledge it any more than.) The man in question just continued to stare at him, his expression morphing into something a bit more predatory before his smile returned and he reclaimed his seat, pulling it around to sit a little closer to Mob.
He threw his hands up in mock surrender, " My apologies, Mob, I didn't mean anything by it." 'Liar.' " What were you saying?" There was a teasing edge to his voice. Like he knew something Mob didn't, and it was pissing him off.
So he reiterated his question in a much meaner way than he needed to, " Who the hell said that those features were attractive?" If Verity picked up on his meaner, harsher tone, he didn't show it, and instead his smile took on a teasing edge. Verity moved closer to Mob. His eyes, which looked pitch black from a distance, revealed themselves to be a very dark brown from this close-up as he searched his face.
For some reason, Mob found himself holding his breath as Verity continued to search his face, and just before he answered his question, his smile broadened, and his voice dropped once again, " You."
You could hear a pin drop in the following silence that enveloped the room. Verity was still, almost uncomfortably close to Mob, and he seemed to be watching Mob for his reaction as his response sunk it. After a few seconds of sitting in silence, Mob broke out into nervous laughter.
" Verity, dude, are you okay? Do we need to check your software? Make sure it's up to date because I don't recall telling you that." He still hadn't moved away, and his amusement only grew by the second as he regarded Mob curiously, " Mob, have you forgotten that I know everything? I don't need you to tell me anything; your mind and body tell me plenty." Mob felt himself freeze, his mind replaying their interaction over the past few minutes, and his thoughts he had been having this entire time, and his face burned.
Verity finally leaned back, satisfied, allowing Mob's brain to catch up before he spoke up again, "Why don't you ask me what you really wanna ask me, Mob?"
Embarrassed, all he could utter was a question of his own, " Don't you already know? Why do I have to ask?"
Verity didn't even skip a beat, " It's more amusing if you ask."
' Of course he finds it—this—amusing. Asshole.' Verity's smile just deepened again as if he could hear Mob's thoughts.
' Yup, definitely an asshole.'
" Then why do you have fangs? You don't eat in this form—you said so yourself—so why add fangs?" He asked the dreaded question, more heat creeping down to his nape. It was times like this that he was grateful his complexion hid his blush, but he suspected, by the way Verity's eyes darted to his neck briefly, that smug-ass expression on his face, that he saw it anyway.
The AI leaned forward again, getting even closer than he was the first time, his gaze deliberately and slowly tracing the contours of his face, before his gaze locked with Mob's, " Would you like to find out?"
…
So Mob would like to go on record and say that prior to this day he had exhibited no—and he means no—signs of being gay. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay; he just wasn't.
Or he had thought he wasn't. But if he wasn't gay, someone please explain to him how he found himself pinned to one of the beds in this room, the collar of his shirt pulled down, and with Verity hovering atop of him, placing kisses down the length of his neck with Mob whining and letting soft, breathy moans leave his lips. All while sporting a raging hard-on that was just begging for some attention. Again, can someone please explain how this would be possible if he weren't gay? Is this even gay? Verity may be in the body of a man, but like, did he identify that way? Hell, if Mob knew.
Anyway, sexuality crisis aside, how had he even ended up in this position? Everything happened so fast after he agreed with a breathy, slightly out-of-breath voice that yes, he would like to find out. One moment he was sitting at the dinner table and the next he found himself pinned to the bed by his hands, squirming beneath Verity. He let out a particularly high whine when he felt those sharp canines nip at his neck, a pathetic "please" leaving his lips before he could process what he was even asking for.
Verity briefly paused in his movements, " Please, what? Come on, love, you gotta use your words." He said before resuming his torture, licking up the column of his throat, before placing even more kisses on the sensitive skin. Mob felt his brain malfunction, unable to think straight with Verity's lips on him and instead just repeating what he said before, "Please."
Verity ceased all his movements entirely, pulling away from Mob. Mob just barely managed to keep the whine that was bubbling up in his throat from slipping past his lips. Verity stared down at him, his desire and want swirling within his eyes before he leaned back down and whispered against the shell of Mob's ear. He asked, " Mob, please, what? How am I supposed to give you what you want when you won't tell me?"
The whine that Mob was attempting to keep in slipped past his lips, as he attempted to find the words to ask Verity for what he wanted. Coming up empty after a few moments. He didn't know what he wanted; he just—he needed—something—
He heard Verity chuckle against his ear as if he could sense the internal turmoil Mob was in. He placed a kiss to the shell of his ear. " It's okay, Mob. Just let me take care of you."
That was the last thing Mob remembered before Verity decided to show him pleasure like he had never experienced before. By the end of it, his body was littered with lovebites and bites; he felt slightly lightheaded as he came down from the high of it, and it was then, while he was lying in bed, allowing Verity to do all of the heavy lifting and clean up for them, that he remembered his question, " So what were the fangs for? You never answered me."
Verity paused, staring at him as if he had just asked him the sillest question he had ever heard, before he laughed, " Mob, why don't you go look at yourself in the mirror?" He suggested instead of answering. Mob shrugged, getting up to head to the bathroom to check himself out. He looked like he had been through it. And he had been just in a good way. Verity was surprisingly good in bed; who would've known?
Anyway, as he examined the state of his body, some of the bite marks stuck out to him. They looked kinda deep, like Verity had bitten too hard by accident. Except there were bite marks like that littered all over his body, and he was just about to call out to Verity and tell him he bit too deep until he saw the remnants of what looked like blood around one of the bite marks.
He was briefly confused before his mind put the pieces together.
' Oh my fucking god, he's a vampire."