Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Keith yawns into the afternoon sun, squinting slightly through the tailored sunglasses. His vision is far better through them, lenses specially made for vampires, yet nothing can stop the drain of the sun beating down on him. It’s not painful or deadly like the legends would lead humans to believe, but it does leave him slower and lethargic, a tricky situation in the midst of battle.

Today, though, is a different sort of challenge, for he should hopefully not face any enemies after his head as he waits near the center of town. It’s a cool but bright day with many people outside, so it’s easy to hide his discomfort.

He checks his watch. He’s early, a habit born from his childhood, eons ago. He was raised to never keep a companion — or how they speak of it nowadays, a date — waiting, therefore he’s arrived ten minutes early. It’s approaching 2pm now, and Lance should be arriving shortly.

He shifts from foot to foot, eager to be out of the sun once his… date arrives. A faint curl of nervousness, unbidden and rare, rises from the depths of his stomach.

He hasn’t done this in decades. Literally.

Truthfully, the entire incident last week had taken him by surprise on so many levels. He’d noticed Lance before this, of course, knew the stirrings of attraction and affection when they developed. But he pushed them down, much as when they had occasionally risen before. Acting on them, and acting on them in such a wild and physical way, had not been his intention when he’d arrived at Lance’s apartment.

It was the reaction to the bite. Of course he’d heard of it before, but assumed it was some fantastic, titillating creation made in the midst of the Carmilla sensations. He’d met humans who either felt little or stayed prone when bitten, but never in his long existence had he met one who enjoyed it. Let alone was aroused by it.

And for Lance to react to that way, combined with a general interest in Keith was, well… his iron will at such an ask had been shaken.

But now, it was time to approach this in the proper manner. So here he is, waiting for Lance for a date, doing things slightly out of order; but this time, Keith would show his affections and general care for Lance without using his body.

Which is the seed of the trepidation.

Lance is human, and dating a human is not without difficulties. Keith has never done so before, a thousand cautionary tales both from actual experience and fiction existing to prove the millions of ways this could go wrong.

But Lance…

Keith didn’t know anyone like Lance, had never known a soul with such intrigue. There is just something about him that Keith is drawn to, cannot help but answer his snipes and questioning glances, cannot help but be in his orbit and crave being by his side.

Keith has never been one for rules. But this does give him pause. Could they really ever develop anything? Could they be the exception to all the broken hearts and despairing romance books? (Which he most definitely has never read.)

“Keith!”

At the call of his name, Keith turns, although it’s with a frown. He sees Lance from across the street, waving as he approaches, smile bright. But there is something about the cadence and tone of his words which gives Keith pause. So he offers a small wave as Lance approaches, studying him carefully through his shades.

“Sorry, I’m a little late,” Lance says, and now he’s closer, Keith can hear his voice is a little deeper than usual, stopped and almost brittle.

As he focuses, he realises that his pulse is also elevated, and with one step forward, Lance’s body temperature hits him like a furnace despite the fact there is still a sizable gap between them. Keith doesn’t normally do this, it’s inappropriate and not to mention distracting when living in a city with so many people around.

“Err, buddy? Are you okay?” Lance asks, and Keith blinks, stepping back.

“Sorry, I’m fine. Are you, though?” he says, and Lance looks stunned at the question.

“Me? I’m right as rain! And ready for my ice cream, seeing as that was what I was promised!” he says with a wink.

Keith hesitates for a second. It’s obvious to him that Lance is not fine; he is, in fact, most definitely, mildly ill, but it’s really not Keith’s position to say anything. He’s learned that pointing out what he can sense, smell, and hear from human bodies does not go down well. And although Shiro insists his modern social skills are severely lacking, he had enough sense to go with Lance’s insistence.

“I did say that, didn’t I? But since you’re late…” he trails off with a grin as Lance narrows his eyes.

“Don’t trick a guy with a promise of ice cream, Red. That’s just plain mean,” he says, and Keith finds his voice caught before it can even escape.

Red . That name last used in the fog of afterglow, Lance languid and cuddly as Keith held his warm, very alive body close in the aftermath of their-

He cuts his thoughts off abruptly. This was a nice, public date and not a romp in the sheets. He’s treating Lance fairly, and that involved ice cream. Apparently. He’s really hoping Allura hasn’t steered him wrong with this.

“It’s this way,” he says, tilting his head to the left, and Lance falls in step with him.

As they walk, Keith lets his hand hang loose, wondering if he should close the gap and twine their fingers together as he wishes to. He lets his hand hover towards Lance, a quick spin of muscles, before it drops back uncertainty. Is it too soon, too presumptuous, to hold his hand?

You’ve made him come with that hand and this is what you’re questioning? A voice in his mind asks and he almost wants to growl at himself.

There’s a chuckle, and then without warning, a warm hand is lightly taking hold of his. Keith starts, head snapping to the right as he meets Lance’s pleased expression.

“This what you wanted?” he teases, holding up their intertwined hands, swinging them a little as he does.

Keith is glad he cannot blush, but he does squeeze Lance’s hand once in return.

“Guess that’s fine. Your hands are hot,” he remarks, unsure if it’s just the general difference between human and vampire core temperature or Lance’s increased temperature.

“Oh, it’s my hand that’s hot? I think last time you were pretty sure it mo-”

“Lance!” Keith hisses, pulling on his hand so he stumbles, immediately feels regret and shame flood him as he does. But Lance simply laughs and knocks his shoulder against Keith’s.

“Can’t help it, Mullet, you’re too easy,” Lance says, and Keith has to clench his teeth not to rise to that, which he thinks may have been Lance’s intention all along.

It is nice walking hand-in-hand towards the mall, though Keith is instantly relieved once he’s inside and away from direct sunlight. His body seems to perk up a little at the fact, and Keith is thankful, not for the first time, for modern architecture making it easy to hide from daylight.

The ice cream parlour is not too crowded, it being a weekday and at an odd hour. They slide into a booth, and Lance grabs a menu, eyes casting across the words rapidly. A moment later, he lifts his hand and coughs, a hacking sound which is alarming to Keith, especially as it doesn’t stop, with a waiter even bringing Lance a glass of water at the noise.

“Sorry about that, something stuck in my throat. Now, what ice cream do vampires eat?” he says, wiping at his tearing eyes and obviously trying to distract Keith from his issues.

Keith frowns, but still doesn’t push, unsure how it would be taken and reluctant to upset the mood.

“Stronger flavours. I normally go for coffee or dark chocolate. Tends to still taste of something then,” he says with a smile.

He can eat human food, and does need some to survive, seeing as his body still functions. Just far less than a human, and his sense of taste is pretty shot. Blood is what he craves and needs to survive, although Keith personally still believes caffeine is essential, and drinks coffee daily.

“Huh, well I’m going for the strawberry special,” Lance says with a grin, flagging down the server once more to take their order.

Once left alone, Keith isn’t sure what to say. It isn’t awkward, exactly, but it’s hard for him to think of how to begin any particular thread of conversation.

“So, what have you been up to since you did the walk of shame from my place?” Lance says, upbeat and smiling while Keith glares and glances around to see if anyone heard.

“Just work. Allura and I arrested some bards trying to break into the city library,” he comments, and Lance looks at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Bards. Really,” he says flatly.

Keith grins. “Yup. Not all glamorous in the Guard world. What about you?”

“Apartment hunting, and trying to get Pidge out of the forest. She vanished on some sort of quest a few weeks ago. Hunk and I aren’t worried, per se, she’ll be safe, we just think she’s probably so absorbed in… whatever it is she’s planning now that she’s forgotten how long it’s been,” he says.

Keith opens his mouth to ask why Lance is looking for a new place when their desserts arrive. Keith’s is simple, just two scoops of ice cream while Lance’s is a monstrosity of sparklers and sprinkles that makes his stomach turn.

It seems to have that effect on Lance, too, for he blanches a little as it’s placed before him, covering it up with a forced look of happiness once he meets Keith’s eyes.

Keith sighs, though, and shakes his head.

“Lance, you don’t have to keep doing that. I know you’re sick,” he says and Lance drops his spoon.

“W-what, I’m not, haha, Keith I’m-”

But Keith’s had enough. He leans forward and picks up the fallen spoon, more as something to distract his nerves than with any need to be tidy.

“Your body temperature is higher than normal, your voice a different tone. I sense your escalated heartbeat, and even if I couldn’t do that, your cough a few minutes ago gave everything away,” he says, words coming out as flat as can be, as he’s really not sure how Lance will react.

Any bravado from before has fallen away when Keith meet’s Lance’s eyes, a melancholy smile all that’s left in his features.

“Huh, vampire senses are no joke. Can’t hide anything from you, can I, Red?” he says, head tipping back in the booth.

Keith shrugs, although he’s most certainly on edge now, and if he were still alive, he’s sure he’d be sweating.

“Guard training makes me a great detective,” he tries and this manages to gain a laugh from Lance.

“Babe, you protect the laws of supernatural persons, you’re not the Sherlock Holmes of my body. But I’ll let you check me for clues anytime,” he adds, with a wink.

Keith arches an eyebrow. “I think I know what makes you tick now, sweetheart,” he says, and leans forward as Lance’s pulse thumps against his neck, increased in a way that he’s sure Lance doesn’t really feel, but he can sense the beginnings of interest stirring.

And Keith can’t help but love that, this inside knowledge of how Lance responds as it’s happening in real time.

Lance leans forward, too, all bright eyes and full of spark.

“You might need to do a more thorough investigation, though. Make sure there’s nothing you might have missed in a dark corner somewhere,” he says.

Keith smiles, allowing his fangs to protrude ever so slightly. Lance swallows, and Keith hears it loud as thunder.

“You make a good point. I wouldn’t want to have missed a vital piece of evidence, or perhaps something new that’s just arrived on the scene,” he says, trying to keep his cool, although he’s holding onto the table for dear life in order to not throw himself across the space and kiss Lance until he’s no longer able to even think of these terrible lines.

“That seems very profe-arg,”

The moment bursts as Lance’s throat catches on a syllable and he starts coughing once again, picking up a napkin and hunching over it. Keith closes his eyes, and feels a small spark of guilt ignite. He really shouldn’t have gotten so far from his point.

“Okay, sweetheart, I think it’s time to go,” he says, standing, and Lance looks up, eyes running and face full of colour.

“W-wait, no!” he manages, causing Keith to stop in his stride.

“What’s wrong?”

Lance doesn’t answer for a moment, swallowing hard and looking anywhere but Keith. Finally, he sighs, then picks up his spoon and stabs it into the rapidly melting mess of fruity dessert.

“I messed up our first date,” he mumbles, his tone so dejected it strikes through Keith smoother than a silver bullet.

“What?” he says, taking two steps forward and sliding into the space next to Lance in the booth.

“I ruined today. I was so excited, and I felt a little rough yesterday and this morning… but I didn’t want to cancel, I don’t want to. I wanted to spend the day with you,” he says, finally turning to Keith, hand still occupied with attacking his ice cream.

And Keith cannot help but smile a little. He wraps one arm around Lance’s shoulders, eliminating the space between them.

“Lance, we can have another first date. I’m… I’m actually glad it’s definitely a date and I didn’t misinterpret this time,” he says quietly and Lance huffs as he leans into his arm.

“For a guy that’s at least double my age, you sure are bad at working out when someone’s asking you out, Keith,” he says, and although the tone is fond and the words teasing, it does make something deep in his chest strike in warning.

Humans and vampires. Time is one of their greatest enemies, something that is the crux of what is never quite right between them.

But then why does this feel more natural than anything he’s felt in decades? Why does he feel so completely drawn, damn every story and tale telling him it cannot be this way?

So he dismisses it and jogs Lance’s head, who whines until Keith leans forward and kisses his cheek.

“Come on, let’s not let you get any worse. Or get anyone else here ill for that matter. Did you drive here?” Keith asks, standing and offering Lance his hand.

With one last forlorn look at his ice cream, Lance stands up as well.

“No, my sister dropped me off,” he says and the response is almost lost in the feel of Lance’s calloused but warm hand folding into his.

Keith insists on driving him home, and to their surprise, the ice cream parlour insists they take their treats home, a witch with a penchant for frost magic returning them to their former state, and adding a preservation charm when she sees just how miserable Lance is feeling.

It does seem that adrenaline or willpower was keeping Lance afloat before, as by the time Keith pulls away from the mall and towards Lance’s home, he’s slumping and closing his eyes as he leans against the window. Keith says nothing, just watches him carefully with a fond smile as he makes the short drive back.

“I’ll help you get settled,” he says as Lance looks questioningly back at him when he climbs out of the car and walks with him to the door.

“Thanks, Mullet,” Lance says, but it’s a soft tone, and Keith knows with the smile and bursting warmth in his chest he’s made the right choice as they climb the stairs of his apartment.

Lance puts their ice cream in the fridge, then flops onto his bed with a groan. Keith rolls his eyes and nudges him with his foot.

“Get changed and get in bed, Lance. Don’t pass out like that,” he says, prodding him again when Lance just grunts into his duvet.

“Urg, fine,” Lance replies, sitting up with what seems like great effort, only to suddenly lift his shirt and throw it across the room.

Keith’s mind short circuits as he’s suddenly in a room smelling so overwhelmingly of Lance, while he’s half naked and sitting on his bed. His mouth waters, literally and figuratively, as his fangs make themselves known and his fingers twitch.

It doesn’t go unnoticed, for Lance flashes a wicked grin and leans against his pillows.

“Like what you see… Detective?” Lance asks, biting his lip as he speaks.

Truthfully, Keith does very much like the vision before him. But he can also see the sweat beading on Lance’s forehead, the way his chest rises rapidly in a way which has nothing to do with arousal, and senses the rise in temperature which seems to be growing ever more as the minutes wear on.

So he crosses the room, which makes Lance’s eyes light up, only to squeak when Keith wraps him carefully up in his arms.

“I do. But I’m also very aware of how bad you must be feeling,” he says, and Lance deflates.

“That obvious, huh?” he says sadly, and Keith rubs a hand down his back.

Surprisingly, Lance arches into the touch, causing Keith to still. It’s a strange feeling, having another soul seek his touch readily. He can’t remember the last time it happened… if it’s ever truly happened before.

Vampires aren’t evil, the same way that humans are not inherently evil; they exist in some dusky grey area to do with consciousness, choice, and the curves life throws; but there are still factors which make them difficult to coexist with people. Increased speed, strength, long life, and of course, the need for blood to continue to survive. There’s also the fact that a high percentage of Vampires aren’t willingly turned, which makes up a lot of Keith’s job at the guard.

So despite the Garrison laws having existed since Keith was turned, despite the rates of Vampire-led crime being statistically lower than for humans, shapeshifters, and fae, there is still unease. Since becoming a Vampire, Keith’s mainly avoided human contact, initially due to not being able to control his strength, and then just simply because it was easier.

Before that? Well, it’s not as if his human life had been the happiest, full of loving embraces, and leaving a string of mourners behind. So as Lance chases after the simple sensation of his touch and leans up to place a gentle kiss to his jaw, Keith finds himself at a loss of what to do next.

Lance helps make that decision by pushing at him gently. Keith doesn’t even think he would have felt it if he’d not been hyper aware of Lance’s every breath in that moment.

“Come on, lemme change. I know you can’t keep your hands to yourself, but I need sleeeep,” Lance says, and Keith jumps off the bed, causing Lance to roll his eyes as he stands, a little shakily Keith notices.

“You don’t have to go that far, babe,” he says, before walking over to his chest of draws.

Babe ? The word floats around his head in intangible confusion, for Keith could slap a hole through Lance’s wall without breaking a sweat and a few minutes ago needed to exercise some hefty control to ensure his fangs didn’t pop out at the scene of Lance spread out on his bed. He’s not ‘babe’ material.

Lance makes swift work in changing into comfier looking sweatpants and a thin, worn shirt which may as well not exist in Keith’s mind as it’s so flimsy. Lance pads back over to the bed, posture slumping further. His temperature has managed to increase again, and Keith’s worry increases with it. Humans, so very fragile.

“Why are you standing over there?”

Lance’s voice startles him, but Keith doesn’t show it, just smiles and walks over to the bed. Giving into a long buried whim, he leans forward and kisses Lance’s forehead, who makes a small whimpering sound as his eyes flutter closed.

“Sleep well. Let me know how you’re feeling tomorrow,” he says, before turning toward the door.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Lance calls, and Keith turns as he hears the rustling of covers as Lance sits up.

“Yes?” Keith says in a question, because Lance is sick, he needs time to rest and heal, what could Keith possibly-

His mind cuts to their last encounter, then he takes in Lance’s position, eyes lowered and hands twisting in the covers. Keith swallows, mouth dry which is a rarity, but everything about Lance seems to create reactions so different from what he’s known for so long.

“I can stay if you… want?” Keith says, unsure how to offer comfort or really if that is what Lance wants. They still haven’t actually had their date after all.

But Lance’s head snaps up and he nods enthusiastically with a smile, which in turn sparks Keith’s own smile, so they are just two smiling idiots standing far too far apart for Keith’s liking. So he crosses the room and carefully sits beside Lance on the bed.

Lance rolls his eyes and pulls on his arm.

“We really need to work on your cuddling skills, Mullet. They’re not bad once you get started, so come on. Hug me,” Lance demands and Keith rolls his eyes before settling back against the headboard so Lance can flop onto him.

Lance sighs. “Hmm, yes, this is exactly it. Your hands are cold,” he says abruptly as Keith brushes his hand through Lance’s hair. He freezes but Lance looks up, frowning.

“Don’t stop, I like it. I’m too warm,” he says, and Keith slides down a little more so he can wrap Lance up fully, hand still carding through is hair. For once, his lowered body temperature actually comes in handy.

“Colds will do that to you. Try and sleep,” Keith says, voice coming out more fondly than he intended.

Lance settles, breathing loud and a little strained, heartbeat so very clear now that he’s resting on Keith’s chest.

“This is not how you’re meant to be in my bed, no…” Lance mutters suddenly startling Keith who thought he’d fallen asleep.

“And how am I meant to be in your bed, hm?” Keith says, close to Lance’s ear.

“Less clothes… more making out… more…” Lance’s voice trails off and Keith bites his lip against a smile as Lance slips into sleep with lewd thoughts as his accompaniment.

The afternoon light wanes and Keith watches through the window with hazy disinterest. He doesn’t need to sleep; Vampires do sleep but far less than humans. They instead go into a sort of meditative state each day while the body restores, and sleep fully every 3-4 days. Therefore, he watches time go by the shadows that grow, and yet his senses can’t quite retreat from Lance’s shivering form.

Over nearly four hours, Lance’s temperature spikes, as does Keith’s worry. At some point, he hears the door slam and muffled voices from downstairs, signalling Lance’s sister is home, and contemplates if he should get up in search of aid. But Lance is clinging to his shirt and shivering closer with each moment, so Keith stays, unsure how he can help by just his presence.

Eventually, though, Lance wakes himself up with a coughing fit. And although Keith is entirely smitten (which is ludicrous for a creature of the night), even that can’t get him to stop pushing Lance away a little as he coughs up all over Keith’s chest.

“S-s-sorry,” Lance manages, but Keith rearranges so they’re sitting up. Lance hunches over and coughs into his hand, Keith holding him as gently as he’s able to from behind. When his throat finally calms, he leans back into the embrace gratefully.

“Urg, screw it, this is not getting better,” Lance mutters, before wrestling out of Keith’s grip and standing shakily.

“What are you doing? Do you want some water? I can get it,” Keith says, standing up in what he realises by Lance’s startled yelp must have been vampire speed.

With the shock wearing off, Lance smiles and tips his head towards Keith.

“Cute,” he says, then strides towards the door, not elaborating any further. “I can’t be bothered to deal with this, the only plus side is the hot vampire cuddles. And seeing as it’s that instead of a date, it’s not really worth it.”

“I thought you said I was cold?” Keith says, bemused and suddenly concerned he’s been making Lance’s fever worse for the past few hours.

Lance stills by the door and turns to him with a look of incredulity on his face.

“Babe, really?”

It takes Keith a second to get it, and if he could blush, he would. So he settles for awkwardly folding his arms over his chest. The context was unclear, okay? He can never quite keep up with colloquialisms as time passes.

“Your sister came home while you were asleep. I heard her. Think Axca’s here, too,” he deflects instead.

“Ah, great, that will help. Come on, Mullet, what’s the point in being a sorcerer if I can’t magic myself better?” he asks, striding out of the room.

Veronica, however, seems to think it is a problem.

“You don’t need magic, Lance. You need rest and tea,” she pronounces, but doesn’t stop Lance as he slowly makes his way through their pantry, adding ingredients to a saucepan.

“I tried that, it didn’t work. So now, magic. Are you gonna help me or not?” he says, glaring at her in a similar matter to her glare at him.

“It’s gonna cost you,” she says, a smile appearing which looks anything but kind.

Before Keith can wait for Lance’s inevitable retort, there’s a tap on his arm. He turns, and Acxa gives him a small smile, before nodding her head towards the door. Keith gratefully smiles in return and the two retreat with undead swiftness and leave the siblings to their battles.

“They will go on like that for a while. But Veronica will give in, she always does for Lance. Is he okay?” she asks, as they take a seat on the sofa.

Keith shrugs because, honestly, on the scale of human illness he cannot tell. Acxa peers at him in silence as he contemplates.

“You care a lot for him,” she says, no inflection in the words whatsoever. Keith nods, and she sighs, tapping her hands on the sofa.

“It’s not the easiest when you start. But it’s worth letting your guard down for a McClain,” she says, offering him that sturdy opinion he so values when they work together.

“He’s human,” Keith blurts out, which is not what he meant to say, but what has been his primary concern so far.

Acxa, however, shrugs. “It has its difficulties, but no more so than most other relationships we’d try to cultivate.”

Keith has the absurd urge to challenge back, claim the half-human nature of Dhampir means she’ll never have the same issues; after all, she doesn’t need pure blood, doesn’t get drained in the sunlight, and can cross water with ease. Yet, in many senses, they would face the same issues if dating a human. She’s practically immortal, has similar issues with silver, and the increased agility and strength. Veronica being a were-creature means they match in some of these areas but she, too, must face some problems.

So instead he leans back and stares at the ceiling.

“I want it to be worth it. I don’t know if it ever can be for him, though,” Keith mutters, and Acxa leans back next to him.

“Isn’t it his right to decide that? Sounds like he’s pretty decided, seeing as he’s asked you to say when he’s sick,” she says, bumping his shoulder.

Keith nods and feels a pang of guilt for the fact they still have not had any deeper conversation regarding what’s happening between them. But before he can sink any further into that, Lance and Veronica enter.

Veronica just arches an eyebrow at the way the two are lounging on the sofa, but Lance pushes past her with a vaguely triumphant look in his fever-bright eyes, clutching a milky yellow smoking glass.

“Ta-da! I return victorious. Let’s go, Mullet,” he says, holding a hand out towards Keith. Acxa gives him a knowing look, then turns to Lance.

“I thought potions don't usually do much for viral infections?” she asks.

Veronica, however, scoffs. “Traditionally, yes. Lance can probably make anything if he puts his mind to it, thought. Yet he wastes it on a common cold,” she says, shutting down what probably would have been a good compliment before it’s fully formed.

Lance, with all the maturity of a younger sibling, sticks out his tongue and then threads his fingers with Keith’s as he pulls him back towards his room, his other hand occupied with the potion. It’s smoke has been reduced to wisps of air, but it still looks absolutely hideous in Keith’s mind.

Lance has more of a bounce in his step than he did previously, so he sits down carefully on the edge of his bed, patting the area beside him. Keith obligingly sits.

“Okay, I’m 90% sure this will work, but just in case I start turning purple in my sleep, please wake me up,” he says, then immediately freezes with his arm half poised to raise the glass to his mouth.

Keith’s ears catch the suddenly increased pulsing rhythm, of nerves as Lance shakily lowers the glass and turns to him sheepishly.

“Uh- that is, if you have no plans?” he says, a slight lilting to his tone which gives Keith the guidance of how to proceed. He goes in for the forehead kiss once more, feeling Lance sigh as his Keith’s lips touch the fiery skin.

“My plans involved looking after you. That now includes making sure you don’t turn purple,” he says with a smirk as he pulls back.

Lance gulps, Keith’s eyes watching the movement as Lance seems to recover from the pronouncement. Keith files that away as a tip for the future, already enjoying the ways he'll make Lance laugh, swoon, and stutter.

“Suddenly smooth, there’s hope for you after all,” Lance says with a wink, then without warning, chugs the whole glass.

Keith looks on with alarm as Lance slams the empty beaker on his nightstand and closes his eyes, appearing for a moment as if he’s about to throw it back up. However, a minute or so later, he straightens and gives Keith a wobbly smile.

Keith rolls his eyes, then moves forward to actually pick Lance up and fold him into his chest as he lies down. Lance makes a noise akin to a squeak, but settles down as Keith stars arranging the covers.

“Do I even weigh anything to you? Hey, why are you giving yourself your own blanket?” he pouts as Keith places a fabric barrier between them.

“You weigh something. Not much, but something,” he says, then laughs as Lance jams an elbow in his ribs (to zero affect at all, it’s like elbowing a wall).

“And if that potion does work, you’ll get cold at night next to me,” he answers, and Lance sighs as he burrows in without further complaint.

“I’m not liking this chastity blanket, Keith,” he says, and for some reason that absolutely sets Keith off into hysterics because chastity is hardly a word either of them can claim after their first time together last week.

He settles down quickly, though, fingers carding through Lance’s hair to help soothe him back into sleep. It seems to work, for Lance drifts off rapidly, and throughout the night, Keith is witness to Lance’s clearly exceptionally magical abilities. For as the sun dips and rises once more, Lance’s temperature regulates, his fever drops, and his breathing seems to improve, if Keith’s vampire senses are picking out the correct signs. So Keith waits, revels in the feeling of being where he is now as Lance sleeps. 

Chapter Text

Dawn breaks and as time creeps just past 8am, Lance begins to stir. Keith simply waits until his eyes flutter open and stretches so abruptly, he narrowly avoids hitting Keith in the jaw.

“Oops, sorry, babe. Here, let me get that,” Lance says, voice still rough with sleep and a little mischief as he leans up to kiss Keith’s jaw where the hand has left no mark.

Keith closes his eyes as Lance’s kisses trail down from his jaw, nipping at his neck, and reaching to his ear. Keith tips his neck so Lance can keep moving, spreading little traces of affection until he reaches the collar of Keith’s shirt. As his hands wander to the hem, Keith’s eyes open and he moves to grab Lance’s attention.

“You’re sick, remember?” he says softly and Lance rolls his eyes. He sits up next to Keith, who mirrors the position.

“It’s cute that you’re worried, but here, feel,” he says, lifting one of Keith’s hands to his forehead.

“See? All good. Potion did wonders,” he says with a grin, then leans forward to kiss him.

Keith is hesitant in responding, for he knows Lance is right, can sense it in his body that he is so much better, the illness magically cured, but he’s still cautious and worried Lance really isn’t feeling like himself. No matter how much the kiss is sparking up desire in his veins.

Lance pulls back, though, and looks at him, smiling a little.

“If you don’t want to, it’s cool. We can just cuddle more, never gonna get enough of that,” he says with a grin, cupping Keith’s cheeks as he does.

Perhaps it’s how earnest Lance is, how much he just wants to be in Keith’s space no matter what they do. Perhaps it’s the smile, the care, and the choice he’s been given.

Or perhaps it’s because Keith can feel how Lance’s body is starting to react to the thought of progressing into more than just kisses, and his own mind and body yearning for that just as much.

No matter the reason, though, he finds himself leaning forward and capturing Lance’s mouth, tongue immediately pushing past his lips to caress and smooth against Lance’s own tongue. Lance moans, quiet and thoroughly, which sparks an idea in Keith’s mind as he pushes him down gently. They part and Keith bends low, just hovering above Lance, whose arms are now around his neck.

“I do want to. But, on one condition,” Keith says, watching Lance’s pupils dilate, his blood swirling and moving through his body in a way which makes him smirk, knowing exactly how he’s affecting Lance.

“Which is what?” Lance asks, curious and breathless.

Keith kisses his neck, letting his fangs just scrape across the skin and humming delightedly when Lance gasps, blood pumping and sweeping south. He kisses back up again and leans up to look at him once more.

“Are you still meant to be taking it easy, darling? You have to let me take care of you. Will you? I promise I’ll make you feel amazing,” Keith says, dipping down to hover over Lance’s lips once more.

“Take care of me?” Lance whispers, and Keith smiles, urging him up with his hands. Lance sits up swiftly, and Keith robs him of his shirt, flinging it across the room, so Lance does the same in return. Keith laughs at the enthusiasm and kisses him deeply, hands moving over Lance’s body, marvelling in his mind at the softness of his skin, the warmth and life in his hands.

He stops as his hands start to move across the waistband of his pants, Lance’s breath hitching as they kiss. Keith moves away from his mouth but continues to dip his fingers under the fabric, not moving much further, just to feel the way Lance’s body arches, the small noises that are starting to escape, the faint kisses he gives, full of desire and impatience.

But Keith himself is impatient, having the person he cares about so much within his grasp. So he nods against Lance’s forehead, finally gripping at Lance’s pants to push them down his hips.

“Yes. Since you’re recovering and all, best I make sure you don’t overexert yourself. And I have just the thing,” he says, looking Lance straight in the eye and he dips downwards.

He keeps his fangs at bay this time and bypasses Lance’s neck completely to kiss at his collarbone, making a steady line of kisses, licks, and tiny bites that he knows Lance wants to deepen, especially by the way his hands flutter to Keith’s hair and pull when there is a hint of teeth.

He tastes good. Keith has barely been able to get the taste of his skin out of his head since the first time. Blood is blood, and although others of his kind have claimed magic users have a particular flavour they find enticing, if it is, it’s nothing compared to Lance himself. Keith wants to capture every sensation he can name as they kiss and touch, Lance’s skin heating under his, as he starts to writhe between Keith’s touches, chasing sensation but also bowing away, sensitive and laughing a little in certain places.

“Oh, yeah,” Lance manages by the time Keith has reached past his ribs. Lance gasps as the words cause Keith to suck a mark into his skin, showing, of course, his interest in what Lance has to say.

“Got some sort of special vampire trick you want to show me?” Lance says, biting his lip a little, a sound barely escaping as he does, when Keith moves right to the jut of his hip bones.

Keith smiles, sitting up, which causes Lance’s face to fall somewhat in disappointment. But that’s replaced with a cut of gasp as Keith’s hand closes around his cock, spreading the precome that’s already leaking across the head.

He pumps Lance twice, carefully, seeing as he’s not quite slick enough, but Lance’s hips push upwards to chase the friction. Keith swallows hard, arousal stirring in the pit of his stomach. Lance is just so responsive to his every touch, it’s enough to break his concentration and urge him into doing things quickly and messily.

But he clings on. He has a plan. So he slows his movements until Lance is looking back at him once more, face flushed and chest moving a little faster than before. Keith takes it all in before leaning forward slightly to speak.

“I don’t have to breathe, remember? I can literally suck you off for hours, do it all day if I want to. I’ll take my time, Lance, you deserve it. And maybe next time, I’ll eat you out all morning instead,” he says, and he watches Lance twitch in his hand.

Lance moans, full and loud in the morning quiet, throwing his head back against the pillows and closing his eyes. Keith is, to be frank, a little surprised at the explicitness of the words falling from his mouth; he usually doesn’t voice out loud thoughts such as this, but the reaction from Lance is almost enough to throw away the awkwardness he feels.

Almost, though, but he covers any sudden social panics with diving down to do exactly what he wants; flattening himself on the bed and licking a stripe up the underside of Lance’s cock before reaching the head, and taking in the length of him.

Lance moans again, whole body surging upwards, and Keith has to press down on his hips to keep him where he wants him. He winces internally, lapping at the base of Lance’s cock in apology as he knows that push was probably too rough.

Gentle , he reminds himself, wrapping his arms over Lance’s hips as carefully as he can as he slowly works his way back up Lance’s cock, swallowing around the head. He hears a broken chant of his name and feels Lance’s hands flutter over his hair, so he hums in approval.

It seems to work, for although Lance writhes, Keith’s touch keeping him grounded, he does wind his fingers in Keith’s hair, not pulling, but just to hold on. Keith likes that imagery anyway, for he certainly plans to make his head spin.

Keeping his promise, Keith doesn’t lift off, just revels for a few moments in Lance’s shudders as he laps at the sensitive slit, before slowly bobbing his head, going down, then back up, using his tongue to press into the underside at different points, alternating with speed and rhythm. But never truly too fast, always monitoring the beat of Lance’s pulse, the sound of his moans. He wants Lance on the edge but enjoying it, reveling in it.

For now, at least.

He’s learning as well, this being the first time he’s done this for Lance. Adds a scrape of teeth (but not fangs) here and there, uses his hands off and on, learns the spots that make him gasp, make him whine, make him plead. And it feels good, all parts of it. The feel of Lance throbbing in his mouth, the taste of him mixed with his own venom, but most of all, the way he’s obviously enjoying it, lost in the feeling. Keith is making him feel good, and that, more than anything else, is what matters.

Of course, it doesn’t last. It’s a while, though, for Keith could honestly do this for hours, but he can only stretch it out so long before Lance starts tugging on his hair, gasping his name wetly, hips thrusting fully into his mouth. As that happens, with a little regret, Keith pulls off completely.

“Keith! Wha-” But Keith cuts him off with a kiss, momentarily wondering if he really should be doing this, if Lance minds that he’s just had his dick in his mouth.

But Lance groans into the kiss, pulling Keith down sharply, shocking him enough to cause him to almost fall, super speed the only thing stopping him from collapsing. Lance cants up his hips, cock brushing against Keith’s pants and moans harder into the kiss.

“You stopped,” he says as they part, voice on the edge of pleading.

Keith moans a little at that noise, the way it travels through him, the way Lance gets in these moments, so carefree. He smiles and gives Lance a moment, wanting him not quite so on the edge, peppering kisses across his cheeks until he laughs.

“I only stopped as I thought you might… want something else,” Keith says, looking into Lance’s eyes and waiting for the moment of realisation.

When it occurs, Lance kisses him, deep and hot, Keith gasping at the way Lance’s hands sweep him in, tongue wrapped in his own, bodies connecting now that he’s given up trying to keep his weight off Lance.

They pull apart and Lance tips his head back, smiling and trembling a little as he does.

“Yeah, I do. Bite me, Keith. I know you want it as well.”

Keith swallows the tang of bile that floods; for Lance is correct, he does, in a way he’s never wanted to feed before. Up until this point it’s been functional, a need to live.

Never for pleasure, and certainly never for the pleasure of someone else.

So he grins, letting his fangs show and watching as Lance’s eyes dilate, hears his blood pound and his mouth open a little. His neck is still bared but Keith chuckles, reaching out to trace the vein which holds Lance’s life, so precious and wonderful.

“Hmm, I do. So much, Lance. But not here. Not today,” he says, flashing Lance one grin before sweeping back down between his legs.

“I’m thinking… here,” he says, grazing his fangs and lips against a spot high on his right thigh, almost at his groin.

In response, Lance’s legs tighten around his head, and Keith moans quietly at the feeling of being trapped by strong thighs. Lance’s cock is leaking steadily on his stomach, and he’s so very close to edge, Keith knows this will tip him over in the best way.

“Ah, fuck, Keith, yes, I want-”

Keith doesn’t bother letting him finish. He extends his fangs to their limit and just bites.

He feels Lance jerk away, an immediate and natural reaction to pain, but he holds him steady with only a faint amount of guilt, knowing it’s only a matter of seconds before it will feel good for him. As warm blood floods his mouth, he maneuvers his hand up to grip at the base of Lance’s cock, just in time as a loud cry alerts him to the moment the venom lights up Lance’s veins.

It’s actually pretty difficult to focus on jerking Lance off while feeding, especially as he doesn’t need the blood, so he’s only trying to take a little. He swallows deeply, sighing a little, and moving his hand in what he knows are uncoordinated movements, but it doesn’t seem to matter. For Lance comes loudly, Keith’s hand coated in wetness as his hips come clean off the bed as he chases his orgasm.

Keith swallows the last of the fluid in his mouth before swiping a venom-laced tongue across the bite, which staunches the wound instantly. It will be closed in a few minutes and healed within the hour, but he peers at it closely for a second as he retreats, wet hand coming to rest on Lance’s thigh.

There’s a whine which sounds vaguely like his name, and Keith laughs, new blood vibrating through his system as he sits up. It’s always a rush when he feeds, limbs sparking with the need to run, to stretch, body actually warm for once, even if it’s just a short amount of time. But now is not a time for abruptness, for Lance is flushed and sedated on his pillows, a sweet tired smile on his lips as he reaches lazily for Keith.

Keith smiles, adoring that look more than anything else he’s seen. Lance so clearly satisfied is something he wants to see more often, and like this, he just looks so comfy and inviting, arms wide and waiting for him.

He gets up and grabs a few tissues, cleaning Lance’s stomach quickly before he obligingly goes into those arms, sighing at the smell of Lance.

“Hmmm, babe, you are too good at that. Thank you,” Lance says softly against his lips, not quite a kiss but almost better, still being able to talk and feel.

Keith moves forward, rests his forehead against Lance’s and raises one hand to just trace the shape of his jaw, feel his skin. Lance leans into the touch, almost nuzzling Keith’s palm as his hands leisurely skim upwards and down again.

It’s soft, quiet. Keith can almost forget how hard he is in his clothes, and wills his mind not to think about it too deeply. Which is difficult with Lance so close, smelling of sex and comfort and everything Keith’s never really known he wanted until now. He’s honestly happy to just lay here and hold him, if he can just will his body to agree with his mind.

Lance, though, sneaks a hand between them to trace up and down Keith’s side. Immediately, he shivers, the pressure just enough to have his body twitching again, remembering how it feels to be pushed up against Lance, touching him, being touched.

“Hmm, hey, babe. How are you doing?” Lance says, a grin on his face as Keith frowns.

Then, Lance’s hand dig into flesh just above his hip and Keith jerks forward, almost kissing Lance and gasping. He’s a little surprised Lance remembers how sensitive he is there, but doesn’t have a chance to do anything further before he’s being kissed, slow and through, moans escaping in what is probably embarrassingly often, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“What do you want, Keith?” Lance asks softly as they part, arms pulling him in, bodies now flush.

“What do you like? I wanna make you feel amazing, babe,” Lance whispers.

Keith honestly doesn’t think he’s ever been asked that, and it floors him for a second. It’s only as Lance laughs and reaches up to cup his cheeks that he realises what must be happening.

“You’re blushing, that’s so cute! Can only do that when you’ve just fed, right?” he asks, and Keith just nods, body and mind off kilter.

Lance’s grin is taunting, eyes sparkling as his thumb traces where Lance’s own blood is pooling in his cheeks.

“What do you want that causes you to blush, hmm? Tell me all your darkest secrets, babe, I wanna know,” Lance says, winking and Keith snorts, can’t believe he’s like this constantly.

It helps ease a little of the pressure, though, for it’s not as if Keith is used to talking about this kind of thing at all. Vocalising things seems mortifying, but his body is leaning into Lance, who can’t stop touching him or smiling at him, so it makes things easier.

“Do you have lube?” he says, in lieu of an actual answer, but Lance’s eyes light up.

“Pfft, of course, I do! How about taking those pants off while I get it?” Lance says, then swiftly reaches down to brush Keith's cock again, making him gasp.

Lance grins, kisses him on the nose, and leaps up with sudden energy, leaving Keith to strip, only wincing slightly when the cold air hits his skin. Lance is back just as he’s carefully putting his pants down, and draws him into a deep kiss immediately. He leans over until he’s by Keith’s side, half on top of him as they kiss, languide and long, a pace that has Keith’s body racing at the fullness of it.

“You gonna elaborate on what you want this for? Or do I need to guess?” Lance says, breaking away but still barely leaving Keith’s space at all.

“Think you know me well enough to guess, huh?” Keith replies, partly still from feeling extremely awkward, but partly as he cannot resist a challenge from Lance.

Lance smirks and leans further on his arm, so he’s resting comfortably on Keith’s side. Then, he trails his hand down Keith’s stomach, takes a detour to the side, and finally, finally, cups his ass, squeezing it as he does.

“I’m pretty sure I do, Red,” he says, and Keith nods, entirely ready to stop playing games now, so hard and tense after having seen Lance fall apart.

There’s a moment of maneuvering so Lance is almost covering him while Keith is slightly propped up on a pillow, before there’s a crack of the lube bottle opening and Keith is tensing a little at the first cold touch of Lance’s finger on his rim.

“Relax, I’ll go as slow as you need, Red,” Lance murmurs against his lips, and Keith forces his body to comply. He’s not exactly sure why he’s suddenly nervous or tense, but as Lance slowly eases one finger in and out, the feeling fades, until he’s just sinking back on Lance’s bed and feeling the burn build up within.

“You’re opening up so well for me, baby, you like this huh?” Lance says as he adds a second finger and Keith moans, a new spike of pleasure coursing. His back lifts a little and Lance covers his mouth, pistoning his fingers harder in a way that makes Keith’s vision fizz in and out.

It’s on the third one of these that Lance’s fingers curl up at just the right angle and Keith cries out, having to grip the bed sheets hard and almost bucking Lance off as he unintentionally lets go a little too much. There’s a tearing sound, and Keith winces, turning to his left and seeing he has, indeed, ripped clean through Lance’s bedspread.

“That good, huh?” Lance says, looking triumphant as he draws closer once more.

“Sorry,” Keith winces, both at the damage done and for knocking Lance off.

“Why? Do you know how hot that was?”

“No?” Keith replies, and Lance snorts before going back to kiss him once more, fingers returning to their previous actions.

It’s too difficult to really focus when Lance is touching him. His fingers press with just the right amount of pressure to keep him on edge, grazing his prostate and then scissoring him open, the third finger pushing a moan out of Keith low in his chest as it enters. He’s given up on trying to kiss Lance, who is still holding him close and muttering as he rides the waves of pleasure.

“Your fangs are out, fuck, you look so good,” Lance mutters into his neck and Keith cries out as Lance hits his prostate dead on, once, twice, and then he’s shaking from every muscle as he skirts along the edge.

“Lance, please, touch me, touch me,” he says, and Lance sits up abruptly, offering kisses across his neck as he does.

“Whatever you need, babe,” he says, before taking Keith’s cock in his other hand, and slowly dragging his hand downwards, collecting the mess his made as he goes.

The dual sensation is too much and Keith utters something between a moan and a snarl as he comes, closing his eyes and writhing in the feeling, Lance leaning over him, a warm constant presence he somehow knows he needs, even as his mind is occupied with sunbursts of satisfaction as he chases the dying embers of his orgasm.

He makes a grudging noise of protest as Lance’s hands leave him, wincing a little at the stickiness and soreness that is left in their wake. He opens his eyes and sighs as Lance smiles, flushed and pleased, kissing his forehead once before settling down beside him.

Lance pushes Keith’s hair from his eyes, his own gaze a little tired but mostly bright. He leans in, and the kiss Keith receives is so soft and lingering he feels the affection in the tips of his toes.

“If you give me a while to recover and shower, I’ll make you breakfast. Wait, do you even want breakfast? Man, it’s gonna take me time to get used to dating a vampire,” Lance says, a small frown crinkling between his brows.

“We’re dating?” Keith says, a question which he manages to get out neutrally despite his urge to grip Lance by the shoulders and beg for an answer.

Lance’s eyes widen and blood rises to the surface of his cheeks. His eyes dart away and his pulse thrums upwards.

“W-well, I was hoping so. That was kinda the point of taking you on a date. Romance you. Get you to fall for me, seeing as I’m so charming,” Lance says, ending with a small laugh.

Keith grins, edging closer to trace the flush on Lance’s cheeks, whose eyes travel back to his.

“I already have fallen, Lance. Not because of your charms, though.,” Keith adds because he cannot give Lance everything he wants. At least, he can’t admit so through language, when in reality he’d probably travel to the ends of the earth for this man.

The admittance causes Lance’s smile to reappear, and he leans into to bump his nose to Keith’s before pulling back.

“Liar, you’re smitten, just hiding it behind the broody vampire image. Whatever, I know your true thoughts, Kogane, and I’ve got myself a sexy vampire boyfriend to prove it,” he says, voice so smug it’s unbelievable.

Keith doesn’t bother answering, just grumbles and hides his face in Lance’s shoulder, who laughs, carding his fingers through his hair. Keith lets himself indulge in the touch before leaning to speak softly in Lance’s ear.

“Breakfast is good. My body needs energy,” he says, and Lance pulls back to grin at him wickedly.

“Oh, I bet it does. I wonder how much more I can wear you out with all that vampire stamina of yours,” Lance says, moving to kiss down Keith’s chest, tiny pinpricks of pleasure rising at the way Lance’s mouth leisurely caresses his skin.

“I thought you wanted to rest and shower?” Keith says, with a half gasp as Lance’s teeth appear, grazing across that sensitive area near the V of his hips.

Lance looks up, then smiles.

“I think I have something else I’d like to do before that. If that’s okay with you… boyfriend?” he says, leaning on the final word.

Keith has to haul him back for a kiss then, deep and through even though he knows they’ll be so exhausted and burnt out by the time this is done.

“Whatever you want… boyfriend,” he replies, indulging in the brilliant smile he gains in return.

And the fantastic, gloriously happy smile he receives in return is worth every second of exhaustion he suffers through on his shift that night.