Kink!Fic | Vampires, Thrall -- Gavin900
Heavily inspired by @mercurial-tenacity ‘s amazing grindelgraves fictober update, ugh it was so good it had me some kinda way.
“Why am I here again?” Gavin groused as he slid up to the bar next to Hank, scowl firm on his face. “S’my night off.”
“You were just gonna lurk around some shit hole like this anyway,” Hank said, sliding a beer to Gavin despite the toxicity of their words.
Gavin snorted, popped the top off his beer on the edge of the counter and said, “You don’t know my life, shithead.”
Hank rolled his eyes and jerked his chin over his shoulder to a dark seating area on the far wall, away from the dance floor, and with a blink Gavin realized that Connor was over there.
“What the fuck is he wearing?” Gavin asked, truly too baffled by the robot’s overly large coat, beanie and general dock-worker grunge look to manage to keep up his clever quips.
“Thinks that makes him undercover. Don’t worry about it,” Hank shot back, “Kid’s got a lead on that serial killer we been tracking. A hunch, I guess. He thinks it’s more than one person. A cult maybe. And he thinks one of the people comes here. But the guy knows Connor’s face and I definitely don’t fit in. We need someone who doesn’t look like a cop.”
“Asshole,” Gavin muttered, “That’s real cute way to say ‘we need your help, Gavin’. You think you really got something on that vampire-wanna-be killer?”
It was tempting. The case was a hot one. There had been a lot of victims and no progress. There was a hefty bonus for whoever cracked it.
Hank sighed, fed up, and barked, “We need your help, Gavin. You willing to meet this guy or not?”
Gavin kicked at his bottle cap and watched it go skittering across the ground before sucking at his lip and sneering, “Fuck, fine, whatever. Who am I looking out for and what do ya need to know?”
“First thing’s first,” he said, reaching down to the duffel beside his chair and pushing it harshly into Gavin’s chest, “Kid says you’ll need to get changed. Guy likes a certain look, if you feel me.”
Gavin opened the duffel and turned red.
“You want that bonus or what, kid?”
Twenty minutes later Gavin was teetering around the edge of the active bar, tugging uncomfortably at the mesh shirt Hank had somehow convinced him was “for the good of the case”. The leather pants pinched. The only saving grace, if you could even call it that, was the sleeveless hoodie he had drawn over his head, more a crop top than any proper covering for his torso, but the hood gave him a little comfort. More than he had without it. At least his nipples weren’t exposed anymore.
But he needed to look like the victims. Like bait. Mission a-fucking-ccomplished.
“This is ridiculous,” Gavin snarled beneath his breath so only the communications device he had hidden near his ear would catch it. From the shadows of the corner, away from all the action, he knew Hank was laughing.
“You really wanna get into age?”
Gavin grumbled but dropped it. He sipped from his beer, nearly empty, and scanned for the man Connor had described. An android. A brawny, tall man with russet hair and programmed to 'invite’ certain people for a ‘good time’ with the killer, if Connor’s hunch was right. And evidently Gavin was on the menu.
Based off the description the guy shouldn’t have been hard to find, and yet the more Gavin looked, the harder it seemed to parse people out of the crowd. The bar was getting lively quick, the music almost so thick he couldn’t quite hear Hank – and he definitely couldn’t see him anymore.
Focused as he was, he nearly leapt out of his skin when a hand touched his nearly naked lower back and asked into his ear, “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Jesus, man, give a guy a heart attack,” Gavin growled, pulling away. He turned to look and blinked, dumbstruck by the sight of Connor’s face, only different. His eyes were blue like the ice of a glacier, and he was taller. Broader, even. His LED was missing. And his skin... Androids looked nearly indistinguishable from humans, but Gavin knew the difference between synthetic and human skin. This guy looked... real.
“Apologies. You were just so eye-catching, I couldn’t help myself.”
Gavin grunted and looked the man up and down. He was clad in a tight black v-neck, a sleek biker coat and biker gloves, and Gavin wondered if he actually rode or if he was just one of those pricks that liked to look the part.
“Yeah, well, paws off. I’m waiting for someone.”
“That’s too bad,” he said, stepping into Gavin’s space.
He opened his mouth to snap that the guy better check himself and step off, but then he caught sight of those eyes again and couldn’t seem to look away. They were churning somehow, distracting. Something was wrong.
“Wha—” His tongue thick and for a moment he wondered if he had been roofied before the thought was plucked from his head as though it had never been. He whimpered, confused, only aware that he had been thinking of something important but couldn’t remember what anymore.
“Good,” the man purred. “Let’s dance.”
He was dragged out onto the floor before he could even wrap his head around it, caught in the middle of a mob of dancing people as hands – maybe the stranger’s, maybe others’ – traced the sharpness of his hip bones that poked out from between his too tight pants and the meager cover of his mesh top. Dipping into his crop top, tweaking his nipples, lowering his hood to nibble on his neck. The music was thought-melting, driving all reason from his mind, and his limbs felt as though they were on autopilot as he swayed with the music and followed the direction those hands.
“I think I’m going to keep you,” a voice said into his throat, skin pinched by sharp canines but nothing broke.
“D-dun even know your n-name,” Gavin mumbled, tongue thick in his mouth and brows furrowed as an alarm bell rang in his head but he couldn’t figure out why.
“Hmm… I prefer not to share my given name,” the man said, pulling back to lock those strange eyes on him again, pleased with what he saw – a man, a cop, debauched, blushing and so malleable in his clutches. “But you can call me Nines.”
Case files flooded his mind. Pictures of victims, locations, witness stories. All they had was a calling card – a solitary card from a beautifully designed solitaire set: the nine of hearts.
His heart began to thunder, but even that slowly stilled beneath the man’s gaze as he held him close and forced them both to continue dancing as though nothing was the matter.
“But y’can’t be an a-android,” Gavin muttered mostly to himself, baffled by the face he shared with Connor. Had Connor set him up? No... No... His thoughts got fuzzy again and he whined when Nines nipped him with a little chuckle and a soft, “Poor confused little cop.”
He pulled back and grinned, and his teeth were sharper than they should have been.
“Where do you think they got the design from? Fitting, don’t you think? To design the ageless after the immortal.”
Oh God, Gavin breathed, cursing as his body melted into those hands and that mouth returned to his throat, the nipping just as innocently as before and yet if felt so different now. More dangerous. He tried to reach for his headset to find it gone. He couldn’t see Hank, he couldn’t—
All thought melted away as Nines’ tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting both sweet and yet strangely coppery. Nines kissed him like he was hellbent on sucking the very air from Gavin’s lungs, and he only parted when the man looked fully gone, eyes blank and lust-filled as he melted into his touch and awaited directions -- throat swollen, blood just at the surface, waiting to be pierced. Nines’ brushed that spot with a thumb and chuckled, “Yes. I think I’ll keep you, little cop. You’re just too much fun.”
Hank and Connor shoved their way through the crowd, but they couldn’t find him.
