8
Lathan
Did he even mean anything by it? Lathan wonders on his way to the dorm after trying to waste the afternoon by studying in one of the campus libraries. Or did he literally just mean he’d see me later because we’re roommates?
His heart had clenched so hard when he felt Kylo embrace him back that it almost hurt. It’s been a very long time since he’s held someone, since someone’s held him . Vampires aren’t abnormally cold, but everyone else has an increased body heat with so much more blood circulating in comparison, and Kylo was warm . It was overwhelming in that moment, and Lathan barely remembers anything else but one very clear thought: I want him.
His eyes readjusted, pupils normalizing, as he watched Kylo run off in the wake of the bell—an admittedly old school way of alerting certain times of day, when the bulk of courses end or begin, but with such a large student body, teetering on sixty-thousand, some sort of routine structure helps keep alignment. He worries, still, as he climbs the stairs of the dormitory, that his actions were too much. His natural instincts, his bodily response to protect the werewolf from his own kind. He’s one of the strongest vampires at the school, and though he was taught from an early age to hide his strength—all vampires are in order to blend in, their evolutionary traits devolved as a survival mechanism, now indistinguishable from humans at a glance—it can be hard to maintain that concept in the back of his mind all the time.
Especially when Kylo’s threatened. I don’t get like this. Why do I want him so bad?
He sighs a breath before unlocking the door to his room— their room—and pressing his lips into a line, his black backpack slung over one shoulder.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, Lathan.
The moment the door swings open, a pair of bronze eyes lift from a laptop screen. “Welcome back,” Kylo says, lips tugging upward, body relaxed against the far wall of his bed. With his sensitive ears, Lathan could hear the familiar beat of The Dahlias latest single, now much clearer stepping inside, and he notices that his roommate’s changed into a white tank top and heather grey sweats.
Godsdammit .
Lathan pauses to take him in: his soft, thin arms, the sharp point of his ears poking through the smattering of rich curls, the teasing sweatpants that draw his attention—as they’d draw anyone’s attention with their loose drapery.
“Hey.” He tosses his bag to the foot of his bed, sitting on its edge and opening his phone, scrolling aimlessly, trying to keep his eyes from darting too obviously. His elbows rest on his knees. The longer he scrolls, barely paying attention to what’s on the screen, the more idiotic he feels for being nervous. Clearly he didn’t mean it in any certain way…why would I think that? After I showed him a part of me I’m not supposed to.
He stands, dropping his phone on the mattress, and moves to the wardrobe near the door. He pulls his T-shirt off from the back, shirtless for the first time in front of Kylo—but there’s nothing to be nervous about, anyways. His back is to him from where he stands, but that, alone, is a view. As Lathan tosses the shirt onto one of the wardrobe’s shelves, running a hand through his hair and tossing its length to his back, off his shoulders, the volume of the music hushes from Kylo’s laptop, and he hears the creak of his roommate’s bed.
“Uh, Lathan?”
He turns, his carved muscles cascading down his abdomen, shadowed under thick pecs. He’s undoing his belt and meets Kylo’s flustered gaze as he starts to pull the length of the black pleather from its loops. He only holds it for a moment, though, before Kylo’s watching him undress with reddened cheeks and parted lips.
“I…uhm.” He clears his throat, struggling to look directly at the vampire. “I was wondering if you needed another drink? If you wanted another…”
Lathan watches with those dark orbs, still softly enveloped in pink, in thirst. Of course he needs it—Kylo can obviously see that—but he wants it, wants him , just as much.
He swallows the scratch of temptation, folding his belt a couple times. “Is that what you want?”
Like a switch, Kylo looks up at him, directly, his nervousness dissolving. “Yes,” he admits, now unable to look away.
Heat courses through his veins. His tongue tries to find a comfortable place in his mouth, anticipating the taste of Kylo. But his body wants more than the wolf’s blood, and he aches in other places.
He steps closer to Kylo.
This isn’t just some high. The venom may help flood similar endorphins, but this is really so much more than that. It’s an act. A taboo act that he wants to make sure Kylo understands.
“You’re aware that this is…sexual, when we do this.” And he means we , because it affects Lathan, too. Just because he doesn’t get the effect of his venom, that doesn’t erase him from the equation. The draw of fresh blood lights his body, the sound of Kylo’s pleasure creating his own.
The wolf flushes deeper, acknowledgment enough that he’s aware, and Lathan’s stomach muscles tighten in response as Kylo breathes another knowing, “Yes.” He wants me to make him feel good. He wants us…to be sexual.
“Is that,” Kylo adds into the silence bogged around them, “alright with you?”
Lathan’s jaw flexes, his body ever hotter; his upper gums start to throb, wishing to detract already. He hasn’t looked away from Kylo during this transaction, watching him become sheepish, then confident, then careful.
“Yes,” he breathes, trembling lightly with confession. His gaze finally falls, down the shape of Kylo’s body, to the outline centred between his hips now that his laptop doesn’t hide it. Fuck. I want to touch him.
“Lie down.”
Kylo’s body reacts to the instruction, hardening under his clothes as he finds his mattress again, waiting with wide-eyed anticipation. This is different than before; this is intentional, not life or death, but out of pure desire. Lathan breathes out as he sees the beginning of Kylo’s erection, a wave of heat rippling through his body, his groin. He steps over to the wolf’s bed, looking his body up and down, this time not being shy about where his eyes land. He licks his lips absentmindedly and crawls over him, dense thighs bracketing his hips. His palms dig into the mattress, framing Kylo’s head on either side, and he gazes down at him, chest filling and deflating heavily.
I want to fucking consume him.
Kylo tries to stay calm underneath Lathan, but he squirms, twitches with the uncertain thoughts of where to place his own hands, and Lathan silently admires the burn climbing up his wolf ears. He does every time he blushes, always noticing, but never wanting to assume. Now he hopes he can, that he desires him—and he begs it’s just as much as he wants Kylo.
He brushes his lips along the side of Kylo’s neck, mostly healed of its bruise. I’m going to cover this disgusting mark. I’m going to paint his skin with me.
His mouth drags up, though, lingering against Kylo’s ear, teeth grazing the skin. And, with that hope of mutual infatuation that goes beyond just bloodsucking, he whispers just under his breath, lips teasing his ear, “Do you want me to touch you?”
Kylo lets out a heated sigh and turns his head toward Lathan’s, mouth pressing against his cheek. “I want you to touch me everywhere you want to.”
Lathan stiffens within his jeans at his words, his permission, his desire to be touched. He turns his face into Kylo’s and their lips brush. They hover for a long second like this, and then Lathan presses into him with a soft kiss. He slips one of his hands from the mattress down Kylo’s side until he discovers his waistband and palms him over his sweatpants.
Kylo’s hands snake up Lathan’s body, finally finding their confidence, around the back of his neck, pulling him into a deeper kiss, grinding up into Lathan’s hand. The motion knocks Lathan’s arm against himself, and he continues to harden above Kylo. He breaks from his lips to trail hot pecks along his jaw, down his throat, licking and sucking a hickey into his skin to cover the old bruise. He can feel Kylo swallow under his tongue as he slides his fingers under his waistband and grips him fully, working a momentum, almost teasingly slow.
Kylo huffs with each breath, still bucking into Lathan’s hand, searching for more. “ Ah . you’re so hot,” he exhales, like baring a long-held truth.
“Mm,” Lathan hums as the affirmation rushes through him. His fangs grow, and he starts to work his hand faster up and down Kylo’s shaft, his breaths quicker against his skin. His body pulses, and he can’t control his bloodthirst any longer. He sinks into Kylo, into the tender hickey he’s already decorated on his skin, and lets his venom disperse as the blood hits his tongue. He continues to touch him as he drinks—with more passion than yesterday.
A sharp gasp escapes the wolf, and Lathan feels the moment the venom begins to settle, removing his inhibitions. His head falls back into his pillow, and as it does, he moans loud, properly, entangling his fingers into the back of Lathan’s hair and pushing him deeper into his body.
“ Lathan ,” he moans, deep and guttural, a tone of voice Lathan has never heard from Kylo’s mouth. The cry of his name drives him deeper. He maintains his rhythm on Kylo, wanting him to release, to feel the most intense climax he’s yet to experience. And he wants to be the reason for it, the one to get him to that peak. The only thing that could make it more intense is the penetration Lathan’s thinking of, been thinking of—maybe that moment will come now that they’ve crossed this line in the sand.
“I’m…I’m gonna—” Kylo suddenly yelps and then groans, gasping as he comes, grabbing hold of Lathan tightly as he trembles. His muscles then continue to twitch and writhe in the aftermath, his chest rising and falling hard, panting like a dog. “Fuck.”
Lathan massages him slowly, encouraging all of him to pour out, dripping over his hand. His fangs retract, and he pulls off Kylo’s neck to admire the pretty colours he’s painted upon his skin. He laps at the puncture wound and then kisses the affected area. His erection is still hard, and it presses against Kylo’s leg. But he pulls back, somewhat breathless from the blood pull, and searches his eyes, checking on him. His own are clear for the first time in almost two weeks.
Kylo’s head lolls. He goes to shift his leg—with Lathan still poking into his thigh—lift his arm, but they both quake as he tries. His post-orgasm exhaustion makes Lathan smirk, satisfied with himself. The wolf lets out one sigh-like breath, closing his puppylike eyes with a smile.
“I’ve yielded, Lord Henry.”
Lathan hums, a pleasant sound of adoration. He’s perfect. I want so much more of him. Kylo’s breathy reference to the Dorian Grey quote tickles him, relieving him of any worry about the situation, about becoming more intimate, about sucking his blood again. Because he tastes so fucking good, and his whimpers drive me insane. I want to feel him, again and again.
“Relax now, Ky.” He retrieves his wet hand from inside Kylo’s pants, and then licks one of his fingers, slowly drawing his tongue up its length. His throat bobs as he swallows, and he hums again, pleased. “Even your cum tastes sweet,” he breathes, mostly a thought meant to stay in his head, still buzzing on the fulfilment of Kylo’s delicate blood.
He lifts off him, fully aware he’s being gawked at as he wipes his hand clean with a tissue. Kylo’s surprise, and regular fluster, is something Lathan wouldn’t embarrass him by admitting he likes. Too much. He adjusts himself so the rock in his pants isn’t as obvious when he walks out of the room. “I’ll get you some water,” he says, and truthfully, he needs a moment to take care of himself, so he leaves Kylo in his puddle of pleasure on his bed.
Not knowing what Kylo actually likes, Lathan brings back a bottled water, berry sports drink, and a premade roast beef sandwich. He figures a dog would eat meat, and the beef will serve as a decent source of iron and protein—helpful after offering up a good amount of your blood. He tosses them all on Kylo’s bed and goes back to his own, pulling out the same damn book he’s made no progress in, and still won’t make any tonight. He’s never taken care of someone before like this, after sex—he’s never had to, as he’s never had a sexual partner into feasting that wasn’t a vampire. It’s different with Kylo, and he feels a bit awkward about it, but he wants to take care of him.
Kylo blinks when the items hit his bed, but he thanks Lathan sweetly and cracks open the drink of electrolytes and sugar. He takes a sip, and then starts to chug it like he’s never drank in his life. Once the bottle is empty, he gasps for air and sighs, replenished. Then he nibbles on his sandwich, seated in a curled up little ball, wearing fresh, clean pajama bottoms.
Lathan watches him from above the binding of his book, glad he’s drinking and eating. The corner of his mouth lifts into a subtle smirk, and he drops his eyes to try to read once again.
◆◆◆
They don’t speak much the rest of the evening, but they don’t have to. A sweet air of understanding sweeps the room between the two, like a low-frequency background melody. Kylo dozes off long before Lathan, as usual, who’s also up before the wolf. He’s content—the events of earlier replay in his mind like a broken record he never wants to repair. He’s struck by him, everything about him. He doesn’t think about himself, only Ky. About protecting him, caring for him, fucking him. As he leaves for the day, he’s grateful werewolves sleep so much longer than vampires—it’ll quicken his recovery.
Moving through campus, Lathan can’t help his cheeky feeling seeing the bloodshot eyes of the other vampires, while his are now crystal clear. He’s never felt as satiated as he does from Kylo’s blood, and he isn’t taking it for granted…he just hopes there’s more.
After his classes, various victimology and legal policy curricula, he holes up in their room at his small, wooden desk, starting a large paper that’ll be due later in the term. With how preoccupied his mind has been, he decides to start it early, at least get some of the research logged away, before Kylo completely consumes his study habits.
He has his headphones in, listening to The Dahlias, as they’ll forever remind him of his wolf.
My wolf , he thinks again, and realizes it’s bizarre to be thinking such a thing. Mixed species couples exist, but it isn’t nearly as common. Rightfully. Each creature’s biology is vastly different, and it’s much more convenient—and much safer—to be with your own kind. Outside of the basics, vampires aren’t educated on the intricacies of werewolves, merfolk, different fae, and likewise, they aren’t either. It’s a large responsibility to be with another species, to learn and respect things normally not thought about.
Lathan’s inevitable thoughts bloom into curiosity, and he opens a browser window to search about mixed species pairings. Articles and videos and blogs cascade down his screen, and he finds himself respectfully reading peoples’ experiences. Some are positive, but many are negative recounts of situations that didn’t work, or were dangerous. He isn’t worried about himself, but considering Kylo— would I be putting him in danger?
He continues to scroll, unsure if he’s looking for more happy endings to ease his mind or even more warnings to dissuade him. Eventually, he hesitates when his cursor happens upon lewd-named hyperlinks to cross-species porn. He bites his lip and considers clicking…because ‘werewolf’ is in the title.
Lathan glances back at the door, and then, with anxious excitement, clicks the link. It loads a webpage for kinks, of a video of a tall-horned cambion woman pegging a dark-skinned werewolf from behind. The whimpers that escape the wolf are wildly similar to the sounds he heard Kylo make, and a ripple of heat washes over him. He grips himself over his jeans, exhaling shakily, unable to look away. His mind has replaced the two onscreen with himself and Ky.
The audio moans through his headphones, his music paused for the dirty talk and crisp spanking. His jaw locks, teeth clenched, as he feels his ears getting hot.
What the fuck am I doing?
He exits the video and slams his laptop shut, burying his face in his hands, gripping his black hair tightly, and focuses on calming his hitched breathing.