Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I accept.” 

Aventurine blinks at Ratio, almost in disbelief. He hadn’t expected Ratio to agree to his suggestion so easily - the sweet doctor hasn’t even put up a fight. 

“You…do?” he asks, one of his eyebrows raised. He needs to make sure he isn’t imagining things. 

Ratio nods. “It is very generous of you to offer to share your blood with me. Since I have been facing some difficulties in procuring a sufficient amount of sustenance recently, your willingness to help me supplement my diet is much appreciated. I would have never asked it of you, had you not brought it up, of course, but if you are willingly offering… I accept. Thank you.” 

Frankly, Aventurine had never expected to get this far. Ratio had always been adamant about not discussing his diet (and his means of sourcing it) with him, ever tight-lipped about his condition and staunchly opposed to viewing Aventurine as anything akin to a meal.

It hasn’t been long at all since Aventurine had learned about the doctor’s condition. And he has not only accepted the truth without running in fear, but quite the opposite - the thought of it has not left his mind since, swirling in there like the most sinful of temptations. It is only his desire not to be utterly annoying that has kept him from bombarding Ratio with a million questions about everything vampire-related. As for the questions that he hadn’t been able to keep in, Ratio has been very gracious in his explanations, seeming relieved that Aventurine has been so curious, though baffled by his apparent lack of abject terror. 

The offer had been intended as one of those things - a half noncommittal question, a Haha, Unless, with little hope of actually getting a positive response.

‘What if I gave you some of my blood? You can drink from me, if you’d like.’

But Ratio has taken him up on the offer. And now, Aventurine gets to sit on the couch, feeling a warm tingling building in his cheeks as a creeping flush tints them a faint shade of pink. He might actually get to experience the ultimate erotic fantasy of getting nibbled on by a vampire. With that very real vampire being none other than his beloved Ratio, who’s sitting right in front of him.

“...Okay.” Undeniably excited, Aventurine shifts slightly in his seat, biting his bottom lip. He lifts his hand to idly brush some of his golden hair off his face, his fingertips grazing the side of his own throat. “So… How do we do this?” Would you like to do it right here? Take me to bed, perhaps? Would you prefer to drink from my neck, or is a wrist preferable? I’m partial to the neck, if I get to choose-

“Well.” Ratio sits back, his face settling on the type of expression that he gets when he’s giving one of his little lectures. “The most convenient and hassle-free way for you would be to approach it as a regular blood draw. I would use a needle to access a vein in your arm or hand, and draw about five hundred milliliters of blood, which is the safe amount usually drawn for a blood donation. If you would like to approach this as more of a recurrent thing, rather than a one-time favor, then we would ideally institute a strict schedule with no less than twelve weeks in between individual donations, to avoid any risk of negative effects such as anemia. However, please rest assured that I would never pressure you into doing this again, or any more often than you are comfortable with.” 

At last, Ratio falls silent, watching Aventurine calmly but expectantly. Aventurine quietly stares at him too, with no small amount of disbelief reflected on his face. Wanting to carry out the act of giving one’s blood to a vampire for sustenance via the means of a conventional blood donation is certainly very Ratio for sure, but... Aventurine would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. 

“You’re not going to bite me?” he asks, somewhat dejectedly. 

Now it is Ratio’s turn to blink in disbelief. 

“I do not wish to subject you to unnecessary pain for my own benefit,” he says, and it sounds like something halfway between a statement and a question. “A needle will be much easier for you. It is an efficient method for precisely controlling how much blood is taken, and will also lower the risk of any of it spilling, and of any complications that come with healing a larger wound. My blood contains compounds that can act as a powerful clotting agent, and I can attest to its efficacy in accelerating the process of closing wounds, but it is much better to be safe, rather than sorry.” He pauses, quietly observing Aventurine’s reaction for a moment, then curiously tilting his head. “Or do you have a phobia of needles?” 

Aventurine pinches the bridge of his nose briefly, fighting back a laugh. He cannot help but find Ratio precious sometimes. He is certainly the weirdest vampire Aventurine had ever encountered… Not that he’s ever seen more than one, of course.

“Doctor, I…” He spends a moment trying to find the most gentle yet straightforward way to put this. In the end, he simply gives up and decides to be direct. “I need you to understand that the bite is what’s attractive about it.” 

Once again, they both fall into silence. It lingers, the moment drawing on. 

“I see.” Ratio is the first to speak up after a while, his tone flat. He appears to still be deep in thought, processing the implications of what Aventurine is saying, and Aventurine could swear that he can see the shadow of a light flush on his marble-white face. “You want me to bite you.” 

“Well. Not if you’re uncomfortable with it, but…” 

“Are you certain that you have understood the associated risks?” Ratio interrupts him before he gets any further than that. “I am confident in my ability to keep my prey drive in check, but that does not remove the possibility of a loss of control. I am, after all, still a starving predator. I am considerably stronger than you, more so than a human of my size would be. You would never be able to fight me off if you changed your mind, and I were… so to speak… unable to cooperate.” 

Aventurine knows better than to voice how hot he finds it when Ratio refers to himself as a starving predator. He would actually like to hear that again, but he’s certainly not going to say that out loud. He simply shrugs. “That’s fine by me. I trust you. Plus, I’ll be real… that’s kind of sexy.” 

Ratio remains largely unfazed, if a bit scandalized by that confession. “It is going to hurt,” he continues, still trying to dissuade. “A lot more than a needle.” 

“Yeah, I know. That’s kind of sexy, too.” 

That makes Ratio frown. “Gambler, are you just using me to satisfy some twisted kind of masochism of yours? Because if that is the case, I refuse to be an instrument of self-flagellation to you regardless of whether I might benefit from the act or not.” 

With a small smile, Aventurine raises his hands in an attempt to quell the small flare of anger that he seems to have provoked, shaking his head. Is he really going to have to explain the workings of a specific kink?

“I promise, I really do want to help. I’m just being honest. It’s just that the needle is.. so impersonal, you know?” Please don’t make me elaborate. He keeps holding his hands out in that same pacifying gesture, as Ratio studies him wordlessly for a long time again, before the tension in his body finally lets up, and he acquiesces. 

“I will still take no more than half a liter, and will not agree to do this again any earlier than twelve weeks from now,” he says, at last.

“That is fine by me,” Aventurine responds with a smile, resting his hands in his lap again.

“It is likely to leave a permanent mark.” 

“Come on, doc, you don’t have to sell it any harder…” Aventurine waves his hand in the air with a laugh, teasing slightly but trying not to seem dismissive, just honestly eager and determined. Seeing that Ratio studies him for a long time without responding, though, he retreats back to trying to calm his worries. “But listen, I really don’t want to weird you out, so if you’d rather do the needle thing, we can do it your way. My offer still stands, I want to help you-” 

“I’ll do it.” 

Suddenly, in the span of an instant, Ratio is a lot closer than he previously was, forcing a surprised gasp out of Aventurine’s mouth. At this distance, his breath is close enough to brush against Aventurine’s skin. 

“I will do it,” he reiterates. “If you want me to.” 

Aventurine exhales, slowly, his gaze momentarily lost in Ratio’s sunset-hued eyes. 

“Yes,” he reaffirms softly. “I want you to.” 

“Very well.” 

Ratio does not move away from him. They sit in shared silence that draws out until it has become slightly awkward, interrupted only by the sound of Aventurine’s breaths that he is suddenly all-too-aware of, same as his pounding heartbeat.

In this quiet stretch, Aventurine finds himself briefly afraid that Ratio is about to change his mind and go back on his assent. Wanting to prevent it, to signal that he truly is determined and unafraid to proceed with this, he breaks the stillness of the moment himself, lifting a hand to gingerly place his fingers upon Ratio’s face, resting his palm on his cheek. The skin is cold to the touch - that much is to be expected. Ratio remains unmoving, like a statue. The depth of his inquisitive gaze reminds Aventurine of a bird of prey, an owl perhaps - it’s slightly unsettling. 

“Do you… want my hand? Or…” Before the words even finish leaving Aventurine’s mouth, Ratio takes his hand in his own - his fingers are as cool as his face is, but his touch feels warmly affectionate. Aventurine thinks back to just how often he had found the doctor’s hands horribly cold in the past, but no, it isn’t just his hands, all parts of him have a certain statuesque quality to them, lacking underlying warmth. It suits him, Aventurine thinks, when he looks so much like his gorgeous face had been chiseled out of white marble. Like a Greek bust come to life. 

Ratio’s eyes finally flutter closed as he brushes his face against the hand he is holding. He presses his lips against the inside of Aventurine’s wrist, feeling the pulse. He lingers there; Aventurine can practically feel him shiver. He drops his head a little, the dark sweeping waves of his hair falling over his eyes. Aventurine squirms a bit in anticipation, but other than that he barely dares move at all - he just lets the Ratio do his thing. 

“It won’t be enough,” Ratio whispers, his lips moving against Aventurine’s skin, “but it’s safer this way. Much easier to control. Much… easier on you, too. In case you change your mind.” 

I won’t, Aventurine almost says. “Okay,” is what actually comes out. 

Ratio does not look at him again. He slides his other hand down the length of Aventurine’s forearm, as if to get a better grip on it, though the way he keeps holding his hand is undeniably gentle. He does not ask for permission to proceed, nor does he ask Aventurine again whether he is certain that he wants this. “Take a deep breath,” he says instead, and for a second, Aventurine cannot help but be transported back to when he had gotten his ear piercing. Perhaps this really is a lot like a doctor’s appointment. He barely realizes that he has already complied. 

Even if he had anticipated it, the feeling of the teeth piercing his skin still takes him by surprise. He catches a glimpse of them - a flash of white, long and razor sharp - but still he feels them more so than he sees them: two sharp points cutting through his flesh with surprising ease. 

As it is with most things one has romanticized severely in their head, in reality, the bite hurts a lot more than Aventurine had originally envisioned. In fact, however gentle Ratio had tried to be, it still knocks all air out of him for a moment. He squirms a little in Ratio’s grasp, letting out a small sound of discomfort. But the teeth are gone almost as soon as they appeared, and all that is left is the stinging pain of a bleeding wound. 

As Ratio closes his mouth around the punctures that he’s made, Aventurine feels a brief touch of tongue. It makes him shiver. There is an odd, creeping pain shooting up his arm, too - a pull of sorts, his blood not quite flowing out of it of its own accord, but being actively drawn out from the wound. The pain comes as a pulsing throb, in rhythm with his heart, but even in spite of it, he finds himself more captivated by the process than put off by it. 

“Ow,” he breathes out softly, if only to offload some of the built up discomfort. He gives no indication that he may want to move away, though, or that he might want Ratio to stop. Ratio doesn’t really react to it, though his eyes do briefly flash at him from under his dark bangs, his gaze connecting with Aventurine’s. There is a glint of light, reflected in the deep molten pools of Ratio’s irises - Aventurine almost thinks he sees them glow for a second. 

Still a little out of breath somehow, he uses his free hand to reach carefully for Ratio’s hair, his fingertips coming in contact with the silken strands, caressing, brushing through them. Ratio closes his eyes again, leaning into the touch a little, encouraging it like a cat asking for pets. Over the sound of his own breathing and the pounding of blood in his ears, Aventurine could swear that he can hear Ratio’s heartbeat too. Or perhaps he can feel it, in tune with his own. And perhaps there is no second heartbeat at all, and he is simply imagining it altogether. He wishes to rest his hand on Ratio’s chest, to try and feel for that second heartbeat, to commit its rhythm to memory if it’s there… 

Whatever blood in Aventurine’s circulatory system that isn’t being ushered towards Ratio’s mouth through his arm is rushing most steadily downwards. There is a distinct throb he feels in more spots than just one. 

“Come-... come closer,” he breathes out softly, gently tugging at Ratio to pull him in. He isn’t all too certain what he wants from this - is it a simple desire for more intimacy? Does he want to take things further in some way? Offer up his throat? Is drinking from the wrist the vampire bite equivalent of a handjob? Would offering his neck be going all the way?

He settles on thinking that perhaps he simply wants to feel a little closer, more connected. It’s safer this way, the doctor had said, wanting to keep at least a small amount of distance between them. But maybe Aventurine does not care so much about safety. 

“Come here… Please,” he asks again. I want to hold you. 

At last, Ratio finally acquiesces. Shifting his body weight forward, he moves in closer, a lot closer than expected, folding himself with cautious, restrained elegance until he is resting his head on Aventurine's chest. Still a short distance from his throat, he holds his wrist against his mouth firmly but cautiously, taking great care not to twist it too much.

Aventurine releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He wraps his free arm around Ratio in a gentle embrace, holding his large body against his own, cool and statue-like as always, certainly, but somehow much more alive than it had appeared before. 

“There…” he whispers, letting his head drop back against the couch cushions. He can’t tell if he’s feeling a little light headed already from the blood loss, or if it’s just that he thinks he should. He wants to close his eyes, just focus on the feelings, even if one of those feelings is pain. 

Ratio has wrapped an arm around his waist, squeezing him tightly, possessively almost, like somebody may take Aventurine from him if he doesn’t hold on to him tight enough. The rest of his body leans into him gently, though, as if not to smother him under Ratio’s own weight. His hair feels silky under Aventurine’s fingers as he strokes it, glossy and soft. 

The feeling that had originally motivated him to propose this whole thing in the first place bubbles up to the surface again - he had genuinely wanted to help Ratio out, to feed him, alleviate whatever negative effects he might incur from starving, for reasons beyond personal gratification… And although he may have found the idea of the act somewhat arousing, he would have offered nonetheless. Even now, experiencing the undeniable physical sensations of arousal, as he brushes his fingers through Ratio’s hair while the man clings to him, his mind is flooded with an overwhelming amount of tender care. 

It is over sooner than Aventurine would like. He feels Ratio’s tongue brush against the punctures in his wrist, and as the pull subsides, it is replaced quickly by a warmth, a burn almost, and then there isn’t much more than the feeling of Ratio’s quickened breath against his damp skin. 

“That’s… enough,” Ratio breathes, shivering noticeably. “I hope it wasn’t too painful.” He kisses the wound on Aventurine’s wrist again - the bleeding has already stopped, and Aventurine notices that the wound appears to already be closing. Right, yes, his blood. Where could he have gotten it? Biting his own tongue, perhaps? Most likely?

“There might still be a mark, once the wounds have closed,” Ratio continues, when he notices him looking at his wrist. “But in such a small quantity, my blood is safe and will not affect you otherwise, so please do not worry. Just a courtesy to repay an act of kindness-...”

He seems so shaky. So very affected, and Aventurine wonders whether what he is witnessing is a predator on the brink of losing control, or something altogether different. If what Ratio seems to be displaying instead is being flustered. 

“Okay,” he whispers softly to him. “It already hurts a lot less. Thank you.” 

They have not separated. Ratio must be very aware of Aventurine’s fluttering heartbeat, as well as the other ways his body has responded to what they had just done. 

“C’mere…” Aventurine hums, pulling him in again. Ratio hesitates for a moment, seems like he is about to object, as if unsure if Aventurine isn’t trying to offer him his throat, to prod him into continuing. That is not at all what Aventurine is doing, though. What he wants from Ratio isn’t another bite; he wants him to kiss him. 

Their lips press into each other. Ratio’s mouth tastes overwhelmingly of blood, Aventurine’s own blood, and Aventurine finds himself minding the taste very little. Something else has mixed in with it, too - a burning undertone, like the aftertaste of an alcoholic drink. A shadowy glint of something intoxicating. He holds him close, a hand firmly settled in his hair, and he allows himself to get as lost in the kiss as he did in the feeling of his life flowing out of his veins and into Ratio, their hearts beating in sync. Out of pure curiosity, he pushes forward, brushing his tongue across the sharp point of one of Ratio’s undeniably lethal teeth. He shivers at the sensation, but he does not push further, determined not to ruin the moment by escalating and accidentally slicing his tongue open on one of the teeth. After all, Ratio had said very clearly that he would only take so much and no more, and Aventurine would like to honor that. 

He’s still out of breath when they part, then rest cheek-to-cheek. Aventurine can still taste the metallic aftertaste of blood. 

“So…” he purrs against the side of Ratio’s face, chasing away the feeling of wanting more. He’s smiling now, his usual teasing demeanor creeping back in. “Did you enjoy me?”

It’s like he feels Ratio briefly flush up, rather than sees it. He chuckles softly at it, ready to perhaps tease a little more, or to drop the issue altogether if it should actually cause Ratio notable discomfort. But the doctor answers him seriously.

“Yes,” he says, in his usual level tone, once he has composed himself. “I find you… rather intoxicating. I must thank you for sharing some of yourself with me. I am truly grateful.” 

A mischievous smile comes across Aventurine’s face. “Next time, you can go straight for my jugular if you want, I don’t mind.”

“Gambler.” 

Aventurine had meant his words as light-hearted teasing for the most part, yet also an actual offer - when Ratio scolds him for it, he cannot help but let out a little laugh. 

“Why do you wish to carelessly gamble with your life all the time?” Ratio sighs, exasperated. 

Aventurine nuzzles his cheek in response. 

“With you? Never. I would never hesitate to place my life in your capable hands. I trust you more than anything.”

He half expects Ratio to keep scolding him, or to have something more to say. But the dear doctor simply grumbles something under his breath, and then sinks down and buries his face in Aventurine’s chest again. 

Aventurine is all too happy to wrap both of his arms around him this time.