a small smile breaks through declan's disappointment in his own family when wren wrinkles his nose and he has to force himself to not close the distance and press his lips to it. "my brother might be okay meeting you. he's usually pretty nice. or my sister. she's really nice."
it all weighed on him as much as it could. which was to say, not at all - at least when he was with wren. the expectations didn't exist here and neither did whatever hatred declan was supposed to have towards him.
declan's smile gets bigger, more hopeful. "well, but i hope he would have really liked me, because i think i would have really liked him a lot." his smile fades as quick as it had come, this time closing the distance between them until he could climb into wren's lap.
"wow," he wished he could have faked the wonder in his voice. that would have been less embarrassing. "you've probably seen so many things." he wanted to ask about them all, but he didn't want to make those sighs leave him more often than they already were. "sucks, right?" his head leans on wren's shoulder.
βiβll meet whoever you want me to. or nobody. whatever you want, baby boy.β he flashed him a crooked grin, happily pulling declan into his lap when he started crawling closer. βyeah, i think he wouldβve really liked you.β inked fingers guided him the rest of the way in before settling in his hair. wren liked the way declan listened, the genuine interest in his voice. it made him feel like he wasnβt just some dead, weird creep with too much history. absentmindedly, his fingers traced little shapes against the fabric of declanβs shirt while his forehead rested against the top of his head. βdad was nice. really fucking nice.β a sigh escaped him, followed by a quiet groan. βhe tried to help me after i died. tried to convince people i wasnβt some fucking monster.β his voice grew quieter, the words catching somewhere in his chest. βso they tried to kill me. then they killed dad.β a long beat passed before he spoke again. βyou can probably imagine why i fucking hate humans.β
declan sighed, resigned and heavy. he wanted nothing more than to bring wren home. "well, my dad is dead and he would have probably been the one to incinerate you, because he had sun powers like me. my mom doesn't. she's a different kind of fae. her and my brother are like, air? sound? like lightning. her new husband freeze you though, but i think you'd be okay. you're already cold." he wished his family was less complicated, especially when wren's father apparently would have liked him. "you think so? i wish i could meet him. how old are you, anyways? has he been gone a long time?"
was it rude of him to say he felt like he could just... eat them? probably. that didnβt seem especially polite, and threatening to do it felt even less so, so wren kept the thought to himself. his nose wrinkled with amusement. βyeah, i think iβd survive the cold.β
he knew the whole thing probably weighed on declan, but wren still found it a little funny that people got so fucking caught up in what someone was instead of who they were. sure, he didnβt particularly like wolves, but what was he supposed to do? they all fucking hated him. whatever.
wren turned toward him then, head tilted, and smiled. βyeah, i think so. my dad liked everyone.β something shifted across his face, and his gaze dropped away. βeven when people didnβt fucking deserve it.β
his eyes flicked back to declan. βshit. i donβt even know anymore. iβve probably been around for a millennium.β another sigh left him. βand, yeah. dad died right after i did.β
"you think your parents wanna meet me, or are they gonna harness the power of the sun and incinerate me on the fucking spot?" a beat. "my dad woulda liked you, you know."
declan felt the moment the words found somewhere to land in wren. he didn't really know how long fae lived; he knew some that were thousands of years old, as old as the stories they told children late at night, but some never made it that far. either way, it wouldn't be long enough.
i'm yours.
a hundred thousand years wouldn't have been long enough. declan's breath caught, something bright and aching blooming beneath his ribs, taking root, and declan's magic warmed helplessly around the soft purr from wren's chest. this was the sort of thing fae were supposed to be clever enough to avoid and proud enough to deny.
it wasn't blood, not in the way declan understood it. too dark, too cold. it tasted like buried roots and black soil after rain, a door sealed for thousands of years finally cracking open.
wren's hand pressed to his cheek, smearing dark across his skin, and declan leaned into it, too dazed to place a word on how he felt about wren in the moment. magic stirred inside of him, warmth mixing with something darker, old and cold. declan made a quiet sound against wren's mouth, chasing the taste before he could think better of it. he should have been afraid of the thing that had just been exchanged. some distant, sensible part of him must have remembered the stories of terrible intimacy that he had been told his whole life about vampires.
it didn't matter.
hishishishishis.
wren's fingers tugged him closer by his hair and declan went eagerly, mouth open fully. he wasn't sure that he would ever feel close enough to wren again. his own fingers clawed desperately at wren's skin, leaving red marks dragging down his arms. wren tasted like vitae and want, something forbidden made warm enough to swallow, and declan had never been good at refusing warmth.
his magic shivered again. gold flickered beneath his skin, dimmer than before, candlelit around the edges. softer and stranger, threaded through with the darkness wren had pressed into him. the plants nearest to them stirred by an invisible draft, the leaves turning towards wren. declan barely had time to realize the gravity before wren was pulling back, beautiful and inhuman, and a wounded noise escaped out of declan's throat. he felt it before he saw it; the impossible speed, the shift in the air before wren's mouth was at his throat.
he shouldn't have tilted his head, but it dropped to the side, baring his neck for the fangs pressing into his skin. "wren," it came out like prayer with the bite, pain sparking bright and clean before it opened into something else entirely. warmth spilled down his throat, and declan's fingers tightened hard in wren's shirt.
the room answered with him. flowers opened and vines curled along the floorboards, slow and searching. declan had heard stories, like most things fae believed, they were all just stories. declan hadn't believed most of them; almost everything he had been told ended up being some twisted version of the truth. the stories of how dangerous it was for a fae's magic to reach towards something monstrous had littered his childhood and been brushed off as a way to keep him secluded as he got older.
he was sure now. nothing bad could come from this. he was so sure about it that when wren pulled away, declan followed. his throat ached where the bite had been. wren's tongue soothed over the wound and a shiver ran through declan so hard it made him feel boneless. his hand raised on instinct, sliding into wren's hair. for once, declan didn't fill the silence. he didn't have anything that felt important enough to ruin the golden air in the room.
i love you.
declan pulled back only enough to see him, hand sliding to wren's jaw. black stained, fangs still visible against his lips, pupils thin and inhuman and beautiful. "look at me." he hadn't meant for it to be so whiny. why did he sound like that? "wrennn, look at me." he whined again even though he didn't mean to. as soon as wren's head was out of his neck, declan found his eyes. "i love you."
it might have felt anticlimactic had the words not torn right through him on the way out, too ordinary for the way they made the room tremble around them. "i love you." he said again, because the first time hadn't been enough. "i love you." gold flickered beneath his skin, grabbing desperately at his shoulders until declan was able to pull himself on top of wren, head tilted, letting all the warmth he could muster spill over wren's skin.
it wasn't sunlight, not really. not the kind that punished creatures like wren. his magic was softer, shaped by delcan without knowing he was shaping it. warmth with nowhere to go but the dead thing beneath him. declan's hands framed wren's face, thumbs dragging over the black at his mouth trying to memorize the stain by touch. there was so much of wren on him now. vitae on his tongue. venom in his blood. dark smears across his cheek and matted in his hair. it should have felt like corruption. instead it felt like proof.
wren hadnβt realized heβd said it out loud. not until declan pulled back and stared down at him, blue eyes threaded with gold, and wren felt his borrowed heart give a helpless little flutter beneath his ribs. his head tilted as he watched him, confusion softening into something raw when declan said it back.
for a moment, all wren could hear was ringing. then the room came alive around them, soft golden light spreading across the walls and sheets, warm enough to feel like the kindest embrace heβd ever been given. flowers unfurled somewhere at the edge of his vision, but he barely noticed. declan was suddenly on him, repeating the words back over and over like he needed wren to believe them, and something in wrenβs expression broke.
vampires didnβt cry the way humans did. instead of tears, blood gathered in his eyes and spilled in thin crimson trails down his cheeks. wren had always thought it was fucking creepy, but heβd never cared much about what humans found unsettling. now, though, he felt strangely exposed beneath declanβs gaze, every emotion he usually buried made visible against his skin.
his hands rose to hold declanβs face, thumbs brushing carefully over his cheeks as wren stared up at him. βi love you too,β he whispered, voice unsteady in a way it almost never was. the words felt enormous once they were spoken, frightening and perfect and far too true to ever take back.
he hadnβt thought heβd ever feel warmth like this again. not the artificial rush of borrowed blood or the feverish haze of venom, but something real. something he remembered from when his heart still beat on its own and sunlight didnβt hurt. declan made him feel alive in a way wren had spent centuries convincing himself he no longer needed.
βi love you so fucking much,β he mumbled into the small space between them, pulling declan closer until their foreheads touched. a quiet, watery laugh escaped him as more blood slipped down his face. βfuck, baby. look what youβre doing to me.β
"yes. with wolfgang. the entire night." he repeats, as if the more he says it, the more it'll be true. roman knows that it is not. last night, his friend had his niece. he never went over there as his wolf, not wanting to hurt or scare greta. besides, the witch always texted him to make sure he had made it home safely. there were no messages.
standing absolutely still, he watches as the other continues to sniff. if he didn't know better, he may have mistaken the other for a wolf. a slow grin makes its way across his face and roman's nose scrunches. he doesn't like that look. it makes his stomach churn. he knows something. "no. i smell nothing." still denying, despite the fact that he does. he knows where his wolf had gone last night. the memory of him showing up at wren's doorstep as the beast comes flooding back the second his own scent hits his nostrils. "what are you trying to accomplish here?"
wren could see the realization settling over roman, curling around him like smoke, and it made something in his chest feel pleasantly unhinged. roman could deny it all he wanted, but wren had seen one tiny flicker of recognition before heβd tried to bury it again. it only made wren want to push harder.
he knew that was probably a terrible idea. roman could tell him to leave at any moment, could rescind the invitation and send wren stumbling straight out the door. then heβd be stuck outside, pouting and huffing as he made the miserable walk back to his townhouse, pretending the rejection hadnβt bruised his ego and thrown him into the fucking sun.
still, wren had never been particularly good at leaving well enough alone. he liked pushing at people until they gave him something honest, and roman was far too entertaining to resist. every denial felt less like a warning and more like an invitation to keep going.
βno? you donβt?β wren took a step closer, his grin spreading into something wicked. then another. he watched roman carefully the entire time, waiting for him to pull away, until there was barely any space left between them.
βcome on, baby,β he murmured, voice dropping into something softer and more dangerous. βyou canβt seriously still be pretending you havenβt figured it out.β
his head tilted, dark eyes searching romanβs face as his grin sharpened. βsome part of you wants me here.β a beat passed, and wren leaned in just slightly. βotherwise, you wouldβve thrown me out already.β
more than anything in the world, declan wanted to spend the rest of his days giving to wren. his blood, his light, his warmth; anything that he could hand over, he would be willing. and still, it never felt like enough.
declan lets out the tiniest, most offended sound he can muster when wren laughs at him and the sound settles somewhere embarrassingly deep in his chest, warm enough that it makes his glamour flicker again in lazy ribbons of gold across the room. he'd been trying to get a reaction out of wren in the first place. wren watching him like he was going to take a bite out of him felt suspiciously like winning. declan nods, humming in agreement, until wren throws back in his face that he was trying to piss him off and his entire expression collapses into offense. ready to argue as soon as wren is climbing off of him. "but thats -" he cuts himself off with a gasp as wren grabs his legs and tugs him toward the edge of the bed.
"heeeey!" declan whines in protest, palms catching on the mattress. the golden hue in the room flared brighter for a second, like his own stuttering pulse had fed it before it dimmed again as wren's hand settles around his throat, the restraint in his grip making declan's eyes go soft. he tilts his head automatically, listening carefully when wren's voice drops. the room feels quieter and declan searches his face before giving a small nod. "i'll tell you if somethings too much." he repeats, all the playfulness melting away. "promise."
trust had always come too easily for declan; it was one of the reasons his family hovered over him so relentlessly, convinced one day he'd hand the wrong person the most vulnerable pieces of him. they probably would have hated seeing him now, but handing himself to wren had been the easiest thing in his life. his thighs dropped open easily when wren's hands find his knees, fingers curling into the sheets at the command to not touch him.
declan's breathe hitches sharp at the bite, a started little squeak slipping out before he can swallow it back. his thighs tense under wren's mouth, one leg twitching like it wants to kick out but ends up pressing closer instead, chasing the sting of his teeth and soothing coolness of his tongue that followed. that doesn't count as touching, right? the golden light in the room flares bright and wild for a second, ribbons of it curling around them like they're trying to pull wren in tighter.
"ow," he whines, equal parts complaint and plea, voice already going breathy and soft at the edges. his fingers twist harder into the sheets instead of reaching for wren like he desperately wants to. "you said prove it, not eat me." but even as he says it, his hips shift restlessly, heat flooding his face and down his chest. the mark throbs in time with his pulse and declan's eyes flutter half shut.
he looks down at wren on his knees, wicked smile pressed against his skin, and something achy and needy cracks open in his chest. "please, i'm being good." his voice wobbles, glamour still leaking everywhere in lazy, shimmering waves that make the whole room feel like late afternoon. he bites his lip hard, trying not to whimper again when wren's thumb keeps stroking his thigh. too much and not enough all at once. "please." smaller and sweeter this time, eyes big and glassy as he stares down at wren. "i just wanted your attention. i didn't mean to piss you off, please."
βand iβm gonna fucking eat you if i want to,β wren growled, his expression sharpening as he looked back at declan. there was something horribly satisfying about the sight of declanβs magic spilling into every corner of the room, warm gold pressing softly against all the darkness wren had collected around himself. it looked like it belonged there. like declan belonged there. the thought made him hum with quiet delight, his gaze dragging slowly over him.
when declan spoke again, wren tilted his head and stared up at him, his expression going deliberately flat. god, he loved that soft little voice. loved the way it caught when declan apologized, like he was already trying to make himself smaller beneath wrenβs attention. βyou didnβt mean to?β he repeated, and then laughed, dark and mean. heat coiled tightly in his stomach as he took in the sight of him.
he wanted to make declan wait for it. wanted to drag the moment out until he was squirming and breathless, until that pretty apology turned into begging. wren wanted to be cruel about it, wanted to punish him for teasing and pretending he hadnβt known exactly what he was doing. but, as much as heβd deny it, wren had spent the entire night waiting for declan to be free enough to give him his attention.
and that stupid little animal inside his head was fucking obsessed with him.
wren pressed his nose against declanβs skin again, dragging it slowly along the inside of his thigh. his teeth followed, grazing lightly before sinking down hard enough to make the muscle tense beneath his mouth. not deep enough to break the skin, not enough to feed, but enough to leave something dark and unmistakable behind. wren hummed against the forming bruise, pleased with himself, then soothed the spot with slow, kitten-soft licks. βdidnβt mean to,β he mocked quietly against his skin. βsure, baby.β
he stood then, metal clinking together as he unzipped his jeans, pulling the fabric away from him, freeing his cock. inked fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, hard enough to kill the throb, as he stared down at the fae on the bed. his face remained a mask of absolute, devastating boredom. he held the silence, letting it stretch until it became a physical weight in the room, heavy and suffocating.
"do you think you deserve to come tonight?" his voice was flat. conversational. he might have been asking about the weather. he gave his cock a slow, deliberate stroke, base to tip, watching the way the faeβs eyes tracked the movement. "do you think you deserve to get fucked tonight? "because from where i'm standing," he continued, tone dropping half an octave, rougher now, "you look like you haven't earned a single thing. you look like you're exactly where you belong β on my bed, begging with your eyes, dripping for something i haven't even decided to fucking give you yet."
"so tell me," he said, towering over declan with a sneer. "why should i? why should i let you feel good when you haven't done a single fucking thing to deserve it?"
declan laughed before he could help it, breathless and bright, caught somewhere between delight and disbelief that this had somehow become being this. how had killing someone turned into something casual and intimate, binding them together, even when they weren't together? that should not have warmed something in him, but it did, and it showed in very part of him that he tried to keep still. wren knew exactly what kind of gift would make declan's magic stir beneath his skin. not flowers cut and put in a vase, but bodies turned back to the ground. rot becoming root, cruelty turned into something gentle, a waste of space sweetening the soil until something green and beautiful grew from the place he'd been put down.
"that's a very romantic thing to say to me." he murmured, words coming out thinner than he meant them to, because wren's mouth was already at his throat and he couldn't form a thought anymore, much less anything clever, before his head started to unravel and his laughter turned into these breathy little hiccups that he couldn't stop. "wren, please." he wasn't even sure what he was begging for anymore as his hands grasped desperately for anything he could dig his fingers into.
he had been waiting for this since the day he met wren, fascinated by the thing that lived inside of him, so ready to give himself over to wren even then that he wasn't sure that it was safe.
wren had told declan that the bite didn't have to hurt. he hadn't really been convinced, because, well, teeth were teeth and they were sharp. so some small sensible part braced himself for the pain that never came anyways. pain that never really came, just a dull ache as wren's teeth pressed into his skin and then declan's body went still.
not fear, barely even shock. more like the moment before a seed split open underground, impossible pressure of something alive realizing it had been given permission to grow. warmth bloomed from the place wren's fangs sank into him, gold spilling under his skin in thin veins that looked like roots spreading over his neck, down his throat, across his collarbone, stopping beneath his ribs. "wren," he gasped.
it should have been a warning, but it wasn't. his hands tightened in wren's shoulders, fingers curling hard into fabric and skin, desperate for something solid while his magic poured open eagerly, like the bite had poured dawn straight into his blood. the realization that his glamour was spilling further, making the plants declan had littered around wren's townhouse curl towards them, made something helpless and ashamed twist low in declan's stomach, because he liked it. he liked it so much he could barely breathe around it. he liked being taken from.
when wren pulled away, declan wanted to say something. his mouth opened to say something that would prove he was still in control of himself and instead, a broken little sound slipped out of him as their eyes met, declan's blue eyes streaked with gold, warm and almost feverish. another sound slipped into wren's mouth, softer this time startled by the taste of himself on wren's tongue. his blood, sweet and strange, and wren's venom, darker beneath it. the two of them mixed together until declan's magic shuddered so hard that every flower in the room opened. "whoa," his voice came out dazed and confused, "do it again." his fingers tightened in wren's shirt, eyes growing even more frantic. "just one more time."
he really shouldβve been responsible. that thought flickered weakly through wrenβs head, almost immediately drowned out by the sound of declan asking again, breathing his name like something sweet and sacred. possessiveness coiled tight in his chest, heat burning low in his stomach as his dark eyes dragged over the sight in front of him. gold crept beneath declanβs skin like roots searching for somewhere to settle, bright and alive and impossible to look away from.
for the first time in his undeath, wren understood exactly what people meant when they said the fae were dangerous. they were beautiful. they said the sweetest things and wrapped their glamour around someone so gently that surrender felt like their own idea. it streaked beneath the skin, warm and inviting, until want became need and every reasonable thought disappeared beneath it. looking at declan now, gold lingering in his eyes and his mouth still soft around wrenβs name, he understood completely.
wren swallowed, his fingers brushing reverently over declanβs skin before a quiet laugh slipped out of him. oh, his beautiful baby boy. the thought made the beast inside him stir harder, claws scraping against his ribs with something hungry and possessive. he wanted to keep declan exactly like this β glowing, breathless, tangled up with him until neither of them remembered where one ended and the other began.
his gaze flicked briefly toward the flowers blooming around them, petals unfurling through the sheets and along the floor like the room itself couldnβt contain what declan was feeling. wren chuckled at the sight before turning back to him, dizzy with want. declanβs glamour pressed around him like a warm blanket, soft and comforting and far too easy to disappear inside.Β
some distant, sensible part of wren knew he should pull away. knew he should make sure declan actually wanted this beyond the haze of venom and magic weaving between them. but declan was asking so sweetly, and wren had never been particularly good at denying the things he loved.
βokay,β he mumbled, already leaning closer, his mouth brushing against declanβs skin. βone more time.β
clawed hands curled around declanβs arms as wren pressed his fangs into the tender flesh of his throat, a groan rumbling from his chest at the taste. food was food, but this felt different. this was different. it wasnβt only satisfying the hunger lodged beneath his ribs. there was something warmer tangled underneath it, something dangerously tender that had nothing to do with blood.
oh.
this was the moment wren realized he was kind of fucked.
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