Chapter Three

Nico woke up with a knot in his chest. Like a muscle he didn’t know he had was cramping from overuse. He rolled out of Dimitri’s arms and realized he was on the hard floor at the same moment every single joint in his body screamed at him. He groaned pathetically as his shoulder and collarbone creaked, the ribs he’d been laying on un-collapsed, and both of his hips made deep click noises muffled by the muscles of his body.

Holy shit, he’d made some terrible choices. A wave of aching overwhelmed him for a moment. Nico just lay on his back, his head pillowed on Dimitri’s arm, and tried to breathe through it. What was that line? The pain will pass through him and only Nico remained?

Except it didn’t pass. It settled in his bones in that familiar way and Nico knew that was the best he would get.

Standing up was going to suck.

He turned his head to look at Dimitri, passing his attention over the hard angles of his face, softened in sleep. Something told Nico he wouldn’t wake up for a while. Dimitri’s mouth was still smeared with Nico’s blood from the frenzy of biting at the end there.

And Nico’s memory worked backward far enough for him to remember the initial attack. He snapped one hand up to his throat, afraid at what he might find. A dozen punctures at least, maybe even an open hole?

There was nothing. His skin felt smooth and undamaged from jaw to collarbones. That couldn’t be right.

Nico staggered to his feet and over to the bathroom. His vision blacked down half way there—his heart frantically tried to catch up, his watched beeped—and returned a moment later as Nico navigated the bathroom by touch and found himself leaning against the sink to peer in the mirror.

Wow, he was a wreck. Blood had smeared everywhere. It coated his skin from the chin down, like he’d feasted in gore. It was painted down his chest, an apron of flaking red.

But he leaned closer and touched his neck again. Under the mess his skin seemed untouched. He distinctly remembered Dimitri chewing on him like a slab of steak and hot rush of blood over his shoulder… Nico couldn’t explain why he wasn’t fading away in a hospital bed. Or dead outright.

He obviously hadn’t imagined it, there was enough blood to kill a cow on his chest alone. He twisted and grimaced at the coating on his bare back. Like he’d bathed in it. He felt… sticky.

First things first. Painkiller. Nico grabbed the bottle of pills off the sink and took two. He splashed water on his face—it ran pink down the drain—and slurped some to get the pills down.

He stared at himself in the mirror and somehow looked worse half-washed. He glanced down himself. Past the blood on his chest. His hips were coated in it too, and decorated with hand prints and lines like nails had been dragged through. Smears of blood reached his knees and pestered out there.

….it had been pretty hot at the end there. When all the endorphins had washed away the initial pain and he’d been begging Dimitri for more.

His cock twitched at the memory.

Nico shook his head and looked back up, passing his eyes again over his own chest and shoulders. Now that the blood was less of a shock he could see the bruising had already started. On both sides of his neck, down his shoulder, on the ribs he’d fallen asleep—on the floor, really?—and they looked like they were going to color up nicely.

What on earth had Dimitri been thinking? What had Nico been thinking?

Why had Dimitri come here—wait. How had he known where Nico lived? Nico frowned, realizing belatedly that he had a lot of questions for his supposed one-night stand.

He straightened in front of the mirror, trying to roll out his shoulders. Everything felt stiff.

He and Dimitri needed to have a talk.

For a strange and curious second, Nico thought he felt Dimitri wake up.

But then the man was standing there behind him in the doorway, looming and preadatory. His eyes fixed on Nico’s in the mirror. All thoughts about a talk were erased abruptly.

Nico was enthralled. Dimitri somehow looked even better than ever. His body was flush with some kind of essential energy. A vitality Nico had never seen before. It attracted him throughly and instantly.

Dimitri was somehow even more blood-covered than Nico. It had been painted down his face and chin, across his chest and down his legs. None of it mattered.

Nico still thought a shower was in order, but suddenly that was far less important than the idea of Dimitri in the shower with him. He’d barely formed the image when Dimitri had Nico suddenly in his arms, Nico’s back against the cold tile of the shower, and the spitting water getting up to pressure in a splatter against Dimitri’s back. Nico wrapped his arms around Dimitri’s neck and gasped.

Dimitri kissed him. He thrust his tongue in and pressed closer. One hand gripped Nico’s ass and held him up, the other cupped Nico’s face as he explored with lips and tongue and kept a careful limit on his teeth.

It was like Dimitri read his mind. Nico wanted Dimitri wet and hard against him—and he was. He wanted to feel Dimitri’s teeth on his lips—and he did. He wanted to taste his blood in the kiss and feel how much Dimitri wanted him.

Nico was a slut for blood play. He wasn’t afraid to admit it. Not when Dimitri was willing to try anything Nico had ever suggested. No one had ever been this in tune with Nico’s desires.

He’d been cautious about it at first. Some men were willing to prick a finger and let Nico draw on their arm. But they usually didn’t go for biting hard enough to draw blood, and they certainly weren’t willing to drink it from his neck like they were starving for him. Dimitri had asked for testing, a reasonable safety measure Nico was happy to provide paperwork for. He’d certainly done enough blood testing trying to solve his health problems. Dimitri had provided the same. But after that, Dimitri had rapidly proven he was as depraved as Nico in all things bloodletting.

And Nico wasn’t sure he’d be able to go back to vanilla sex when Dimitri figured out Nico wasn’t ever going to get better. They didn’t talk about it beyond limits for safe sex, but Nico’s auto-immune would only get worse over time. The pain would increase, his joints would become more unstable, he’d need a wheelchair in less than ten years. He was only thirty.

At some point Dimitri would realize this. It was an impending hard-limit on their not-a-relationship that Nico knew was out there in the future. Nico’s physical limits weren’t a deal-breaker yet, but a relationship couldn’t live on sex and blood alone and Nico wanted something real. He wanted it with Dimitri.

Dimitri was, quite honestly, too good to be true. No one could meet all of Nico’s kinks and desires in the bedroom and also be the one and only love of his life.

But Nico also doubted his kink-lite future spouse would tolerate a tall, dark-and handsome side-kink.

And Dimitri didn’t strike Nico as the kind of man willing to be relegated to the side piece, either. His intensity was main character material.

Which meant Dimitri was a time-limited benefit Nico intended to take full advantage of. Even though his heart yearned for Dimitri to somehow work long term, Nico tried to accept reality.

He pulled Dimitri closer and banished the wandering thoughts. There didn’t have to be anything right now except their bodies straining again for release and the building certainty of mutual pleasure.

Nico blindly groped for the bottle of lube on the shower shelf. He coated his hand and reached under his hips. He found Dimitri’s cock nestled up under his ass, hard and ready once more. He gave it a pump.

Dimitri broke their kiss long enough to hiss his pleasure against Nico’s cheek, pressing the face of his fangs against skin. Nico trembled at the implied threat… and the promise.

Before he could vocalize his needs, Dimitri shifted. His cock found Nico’s hole and he plunged smoothly inside.

Nico had a passing thought that he should be injured from their earlier fucking—but so should his neck and that was fine.

And then Dimitri pinned him against the tiles and Nico thought of nothing but the thick shaft thrusting into him. The pounding pressure building in his chest. The tight knot of muscle around his heart that he’d woken up with. The surging pleasure in his veins that banished his joint aches.

Now he just needed—Dimitri struck, fangs first, hissing like a snake. Nico’s head was knocked to one side. Dimitri sank his fangs into Nico’s throat, piercing deep like a pair of needles. Bliss washed over him. Was this what it felt like to be addicted?

He didn’t feel complete without Dimitri’s cock in his ass and his fangs in Nico’s throat.

The man held Nico’s head and neck steady as he sucked. The blood rushed hot and strong. Dimitri’s cock thickened. Nico sighed as something sweet and golden expanded in his chest.

He arched as it crested over him the first time. It burst in a hot rush that made his whole body tingle. Nico’s cock flexed between them and stiffened, right at the edge.

The golden bubble expanded and popped again. Against Nico’s throat, Dimitri moaned with desperate pleasure. His hand fisted in Nico’s hair and pulled tight. The hand under Nico’s ass flexed, digging sharp nails into his skin. Drawing blood.

Nico arched. He came in a burst, screaming Dimitri’s name. His breath heaved. His entire body shook. He painted Dimitri’s chest in cum that surged again and again.

Dimitri didn’t drop him, but it was close thing. Nico sat hard in the tub of the shower before his orgasm was entirely finished. His cock still flexed, weakly dribbling down his legs. The hot water of the shower rained against his chest and washed much of the mess away. Nico put one hand on the edge of the tub to steady himself and blinked.

Dimitri stood on the other side of the small bathroom. He dripped water, blood, and Nico’s cum. He was still hard as a rock, cock pointed directly at Nico, but none of it seemed to register. He stared hard at Nico, his eyes wide. Was he afraid? What could he possibly be afraid of?

Nico grunted at another golden surge in his chest. An aftershock or something. It distracted him from Dimitri. The feeling echoed down every limb and made him feel full. Over-full, really. He felt almost manic with energy. He stared at his hand for a moment, watched it tremble.

He was overstimulated. He recognized the symptoms. And no kidding, after the day he’d had. Dimitri’s unexpected arrival, the attack, two rounds of sex—like recognizing it gave it more power, Nico suddenly felt overwhelmed. There was too much input—the shower, Dimitri’s stare, his own trembling body, the bathroom light. He lurched up, trying to find his feet, but slipped back to his hands and knees.

Something was rising inside of him. He was going to throw up. He was going to combust. He was going to shoot lightning from his eyes. He was going to melt if someone didn’t rescue him.

Nico screamed, fear and overwhelm stealing his ability to reason. He tried to wipe the blood and water from his body, but more water fell like rain. He swiped the mess, brushing against his half-hard cock, which was already too sensitive. He shrieked again.

Something beeped twice.