Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Vic’s eyes flicked around the room of his HUMAN BIO 213, tapping his fingers against his laptop. Puffing his cheeks, his eyes landed on the back of Kellin Quinn Bostwick’s head. His professor began to groan about the difference between werewolf courtship, and human romance, and Vic almost automatically tuned his voice out. The accent that death causes once a zombie has been reanimated typically turns into white noise if you don’t care enough to listen. 

Why the fuck is Kellin even taking Human Bio? He isn’t even a biology major, did he just willingly sign up to learn human biology? Shouldn’t he know this shit anyways? There’s no way lycan biology is that different from humans, they look so similar. 

Vic felt like he was staring into Kellin’s soul, desperately trying to get his attention. He wanted Kellin to feel that he was staring at him, the wolf had to notice eventually. Vic was basically staring daggers into the back of Kellin’s head. Vic watched as Kellin gripped his pen tighter, his left hand gripping the table until his knuckles turned white. 

Vic was trying to get under Kellin’s skin, and it was working already. He hadn’t even said a word to the other man today. He was busy staring at Kellin’s pale slender fingers, and his tattooed arms. 

Is it close to a full moon or something? He’s already so riled up.

Vic’s eyes raked back upwards, finally making eye contact with an extremely annoyed glare from Kellin. Vic could practically see the hair standing up on the back of his neck. 

“What the fuck is your problem dude?” Kellin practically hissed, squinting at the vampire. His words were hushed as a courtesy to his professor, but they dripped with venom. “I feel your creepy biter stare from here. Do we have a problem?”

Vic clicked his tongue, leaning back in his chair before giving Kellin a slight smirk. He continued to stare, raising an eyebrow, before responding quietly. “I don’t know, Quinn. Do we?”

Kellin’s face shifted into a confused look, and Vic could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to remember if they had anything they were beefing over. They didn’t, at least not currently. The last thing they were fighting over resolved itself a few days prior when the girl they were both fucking decided she was finished with her self proclaimed “slut era,” but Vic is pretty sure she just ended up pregnant. 

Kellin blinked, before giving Vic another look. “Is this still about Alani? I told you already, you can have my sloppy seconds.”  

No, it isn’t. Vic is just fucking with him, but he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t give more of a shit if Alani felt his hands on her body. He shook the thought of Kellin’s claws digging into his neck out of his mind. 

It’s funny, I’m making him angry because I think it’s funny. That’s it. Vic chose to ignore the heat rushing to his face as Kellin waited for an answer. He stared as Kellin’s jaw clenched, his eyes landing on the curve of his jawline and his neck.

“What a fucking freak, dude.” Kellin scoffed. Vic watched as his hand went to cover his neck as most typically do when there’s a vampire in the room. Doesn’t matter if they’re human, werewolf, witch, or other creature. Vic is used to it by now. 

Kellin turned away, giving his attention back to the zombie in the front of the class. Vic didn’t care if Kellin thought he was a freak. 

His eyes landed on the notification on his laptop, an IM from his friend Tony. It said,

Vic u busy l8r? :)

No, he was not busy later depending on this response. 

U planning sum?

Yuh, smokies l8r ? >:3 jaime scored 2day Somehow..

fuck it. Anyone else coming? 

Idk whoever Jaime invites, probs not a whole lot of people tho

Sweet, I’ll bring vodka

Ur so sexy, I’ll literally kiss you dude. Meet at yours?

Vic smiled to himself, sending Tony a quick kissy face before closing his laptop and shoving it into his bag. He stood, and followed the crowd of students out of the classroom as the professor had wrapped up class as he was messaging Tony. 

Suddenly, the vampire let out a groan as his back was slammed into the brick building behind him. He flinched as his head slammed into the wall, and opened his eyes to be face to face with Kellin Quinn once again.

“Fuentes, you must have some fucked up reality if you think you can just spend the entire lecture making googly eyes at me. What are you, a biter and a cross breeding one at that?” 

Dude definitely is from a werewolf bloodline, holy shit. Some of these insults are outdated.

Vic cracked a smile and he practically purrs when he speaks, “What Kells? Don’t be like that, you’re a werewolf. You guys are known for fucking everything that moves, you don’t like me staring?”

“I told you not to call me that.” Kellin spit out, his claw like nails began to dig into Vic’s shoulders. It kinda hurt, but Vic couldn’t say that. “And I’m not- I’m not like that, I just can’t stand…”

He trailed off before his eyes flicked up and down Victor’s body, he was still pressing him against the wall. Closer than Vic would’ve liked. Victor’s face flushed red, he disliked how he reacted to how close they were. He dislikes how much he liked the feeling of Kellin’s claws. 

“I just can’t stand you.” Kellin said, letting go of the shorter man’s shoulders. Vic could hear his heart pick up speed, they were still a tad to close. 

“I hate you and your pack.” He continued, stepping backwards. “You all are stuck up, and you are so fucking insufferable. You always fucking-”

He took another two steps back, Vic was no longer pressed up against the wall. He took a step forward, and Kellin took another step back. Vic rebutted, “They’re not my pack. We’re family, even if it isn’t by blood.”

“Whatever. Just.. leave me the fuck alone man. Not today.”

Kellin turned on his heel and rushed off, running his hand through his hair. He mumbled a couple of swears in Vic’s direction, and Vic almost felt bad for the man. He seemed stressed, not that Vic cared. 

Vic sighed to himself, tossing his tote bag back over his shoulder before starting towards his apartment. Human Bio was his last class of the day, so he should bust out his homework before going to hang out at this.. Party? Get together? Vic realized he really did not know how many people Jaime was going to invite, and that sent a chill up his spine. 

He should probably eat before he leaves, in case there are any humans invited. Not that he planned on biting any humans tonight, but being under the influence you never know, and he'd rather not commit a serious crime tonight.

Pulling out his phone, he shot Jaime a quick text. 

hhey boo, How many bottles do i need 2 bring for this sesh ?

That should give him a good estimate on how many people will be there.

Um, a cooler full if you can spare? I’ll spot you 250 when you get here

Fuck, this means Jaime probably told people they could bring plus ones. He’s expecting this party to turn into something. 

kk, See u at 7 boo

Thx Vic

Vic rolled his eyes, he really didn’t plan on being around people tonight. Most of the time the only people he knows at Jaime’s parties are Loni, Tony, and Jaime. Sometimes Jaime invites old friends of Vic’s but they never reconnect often. His headphones blared some random post hardcore band in his ears as he shoved his way onto the packed campus bus. 

Eventually, he got off at his stop and wandered up into his apartment. He made a confused face as he went to unlock his door, already finding it unlocked. That’s odd, he remembered locking it this morning. He swung open his door, calling out into the small apartment. “Tony, is that you? You know I told you to lock my door if you let yourself in.” 

“Sorry Vic, I thought I texted you and said I was meeting you here.” Tony replied, greeting Vic at his own front door. “I still have that key I stole from you.” 

“It’s okay man, you did.” Vic confirmed, dapping up with Tony before he continued.  “I just prefer not having gnomes rummaging through here because you didn’t lock the door. You always fall asleep.” 

Tony grinned and sheepishly ran a hand through his hair, “Not my fault you have such a comfortable bed.” 

Vic chuckled lightly, slipping past Tony and walking into his bedroom. “Jaime told me to bring a cooler full of vodka. How many people did he invite, Tone?” 

“It can’t be that many, Vic. Jaime doesn’t know that many people, maybe he just planned on getting fucked up tonight. You never know with him.” Tony went on a bit of a tangent, and Vic could tell he was only telling half the truth. Jaime had something up his sleeve, and Vic was not excited to see what the other vampire had in store. 

Vic sat in his desk chair, pulling out his laptop and opening it for the second time. His online homework portal stood open from where he had it open in class earlier. He clicked into today’s assignment. “I’m not pressed if he invites more than I intended, it’s his party. I just wanted to know how much alcohol to buy, dude.”

What Tony doesn’t know is that Vic is trying to get him to spill if Kellin plans on showing up tonight.

Tony hummed, his lips pursed before he made eye contact with Vic. He thought for a moment before speaking. “Start with 250 worth, that’s what he texted and said we’ll split later.”

Vic turned back to his laptop, opening a new tab and googling ‘liquor shop near me.’ He scrolled through the first couple, before finally landing on a local shop about a 15 minute drive from his apartment that was on the way to Jaime's home. He spoke his thoughts out loud to his friend. “I wonder if they do online orders.”

“I'd be surprised if they didn't. You know how it is nowadays.” Tony sighed quietly. Vic could hear a bit of longing in his voice, and it made his heart ache. Tony is still a fledgling, and not a natural born vampire at that. Vic recalled that the loss of his humanity was something the poor boy struggled with.

Humans, and turned vampires are extremely alike biologically. Turned vampires are less likely nowadays. That practice is about a hundred years old and extremely outdated. Humans and Vampires have learned to live harmoniously together, and blood is now sourced ethically from blood banks, humans that have passed on, and organ donation.

Vic aimlessly clicked through the shop's stock, adding various bottles and boxes to his cart. “So, do you happen to know if Hime invited anyone that I might have issues with?”

Tony giggled quietly, and watched as a slight blush appeared on Vic's face. “Are you asking if Kellin would be there? What's your problem with him anyways?”

Vic shrugged, clicking back into his homework after he successfully placed the order for his alcohol. “He’s just a dickhead, always competing with me for no fucking reason. He's weird about vampires too.”

Vic ran a hand through his hair, continuing his routine of ranting about Kellin. “I really don't even have a fucking problem with the guy anymore, we've just been going at it for so long that I don't know how to do anything else. But he still gets on my fucking nerves.”

Tony is used to this, once you get Vic started about Kellin the guy typically does not stop. It's a theory between him and Jaime that Victor Fuentes may actually have a bit of an infatuation with Kellin Quinn, the one time he brought it up to the other vampire it resulted with him getting punched so hard it sent him flying into a brick wall so he hasn't brought it up again. 

“I just.. I have to be better than him, you know? I have to. It’s basically fucking tradition at this point.”  Tony watched as Vic began to type on his computer as he continued, quietly shooting Jaime a text asking if Kellin was going to be at the party. “I mean, dude- dude. How fucking long has it been? How long has Kellin been in San Diego-? Be fucking real with me right now.”

“I don’t know man, like… at least 15 years. Like middle school, I’m pretty sure?” Tony replied, rolling his eyes when Jaime sent a pleading face emoji and the word “sorry” a million times after confirming Kellin was going to be at the party. 

“God damn. Has it really been that long?” Vic finally made eye contact with Tony again after he finished the quick discussion homework his professor had assigned him tonight. Tony noted that Vic almost looked embarrassed that it had been that long. 

Tony nodded, recalling when Kellin had first moved to their district, it caused a huge rift in their school because a new wolf pack had moved into the city. Werewolf packs don’t typically move or start anew from their home state, and single families moving alone is completely unheard of. It’s not in their nature, and it was extremely scary to some people in their school. Nowadays, Kellin’s family is a part of a well known pack in the community, and they’ve integrated well. “Yeah, he moved here the year after I got turned. Remember?”

Vic saw Tony grimace, and he apologized softly for making the taller man recall the memory. Tony is one of those rare occurrences where a human is turned in modern times, he had passed away in middle school and was turned at his parents request. Vampiric transformation can be extremely traumatizing and painful depending on the cause of death. 

“It’s okay, Vic. Are you finished with your stuff?” Tony asked, nodding to the older man’s laptop. “And the order went through ok? Jaime wants me to help set up the party, I don’t want to keep him waiting.” 

“You just want to get home to your boyfriend.” Vic teased, standing up and cracking his knuckles. “Let’s go, I’m ready to get fucked up.”

Tony stood up a bit too quickly to be able to lie about just wanting to see Jaime. “We can take my car, since I drove here. Text me the address of the shop?”

Vic nodded, sending him the link quickly. “I should eat before we leave, I’m hungry and I don’t know if there’s any humans going to be there. Do you want any?”

Tony shook his head, before giving Vic a gentle smile. “Nah man, you know I don’t do human blood. We have some pig's blood I can chug if I really have any urge, but I’m not super hungry. Maybe I’ll mix some into a drink.” He was just thinking out loud to the other man at that point.

Vic stepped into his kitchen, pulling out a glass and opening his fridge. His fangs began poking at his bottom lip almost immediately just at the smell. He grabbed a bottle of blood, before popping the top and chugging it in one swoop. Maybe he was hungrier than he thought. That definitely could’ve ended up bad. Vic tried to ignore the uncomfortable look from Tony, as Tony desperately tried to look anywhere other than Vic chugging the blood from a human. He knew Tony tried his best not to judge any vampires that did decide to take the route of drinking human blood, it just wasn’t for the younger man. He’s accepted that it comes at the disadvantage of dying quicker than full vampires. 

Vic sat the bottle on the counter, taking a few deep breaths before closing his eyes. His heart stuttered in his ears as it always does when he drinks, and he reopened his eyes to see Tony staring at him. Tony’s face turned pink, and he apologized for staring.

“Sorry. It still fascinates me seeing you and Jaime’s skin get its color back after you drink.” Tony explained. “I’m not trying to judge.”

“I know, thank you for not being prissy about us not being animal only.” Vic wiped his mouth, tossing the empty blood bottle into the trash can next to the fridge. “I call shotgun.”

“We’re the only people in the car, and I’m not stupid enough to let you drive.” Tony grinned, pulling Vic out the door and locking it for him. He practically dragged the other down the stairs and shoved him into his passenger seat. Tony missed his boyfriend. 

Vic got settled in his seat, connecting his phone to Tony’s bluetooth and picking a random playlist to listen to while the other drove. MakeDamnSure by Taking Back Sunday began to play through the busted speakers, and the two got settled into a comfortable silence. 

“You know,” Tony began, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel. He sighed, not knowing how to go about asking this without pissing the other vampire off. “Have you.. ever thought about talking to Kellin? And like… not pissing him off immediately? Just like a normal conversation.” 

“Oh no, I haven’t Tone. I totally haven’t tried.” Vic’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I treat him like how I want to be treated, that’s like the golden rule or whatever, right?”

“Right.” 

Vic hummed along to the chorus, and looked doom scrolled on social media for their quiet moment. 

“He’s just.. He’s a cool dude, Vic. I’ve hung out with him.” Tony tried his best to sound gentle. 

“Right.” Vic mimicked, “He’s a cool dude, he just calls us biters and acts like we’re the worst. He’s a cool dude but he tries to purposely get under my skin.”

“Everyone fucking does that Vic, we’re vampires.” Tony was visibly annoyed now, Vic knew the treatment of vampires was something he also had problems with. “Everyone does, you think I’ve never noticed?”

“No, no. I know you have. That’s why I don’t understand why you say he’s cool.” 

Tony shrugged, and the conversation fell silent for the rest of the ride. Vic didn’t want to ruin the vibe before the party, and Tony didn’t feel comfortable continuing the conversation past that point. They arrived at the liquor shop, and Vic stepped inside and his eyes scanned the store before landing on the cashier tucked into the back corner of the store.

“Hey man, what can I get you?” The person asked, not putting much enthusiasm into his words. He sounded like they didn’t want to be there. 

“Oh, hey dude. I had an online order?” Vic intended his words to sound like a statement, but they sort of sounded like a question coming out. His face flushed, and he looked away for a quick moment while he stepped up to the counter. There was something about this person that made Vic feel weak in the knees, he wasn’t intimidating but it still gave Vic a pit in his stomach. Everyone has been confusing Vic today and he didn’t enjoy it.

“Oh yeah, no problem. Your name is?” The other person smiles small, before continuing the sentence quickly. “Also, can I see your id?”

Vic nodded, pulling his ID out of his wallet and showing the id. “Victor Fuentes should be the order name, I don’t remember if I put my full name or just Vic.”

“All good, you look good for 25. You look like a teenager kinda.” Vic finally glanced down to see the person’s name tag said “Gerard (he/they/she)”, and he politely smiled with teeth to her. She gasped softly, and started blushing lightly. “Oh..! I knew vampires aged well..”

They trailed off, and Vic smiled as Gerard’s heart began to pound. The sound made him take a small deep breath before he spoke. “I get that a lot, the whole vampire thing kinda makes all of us look young. Comes with the longer lifespan and all that shit.” 

Gerard chuckled, Vic felt embarrassed as her eyes scanned his body before making eye contact with him again. “Let me go get your order really quick, I’ll be right back.”

Vic nodded, and smiled again before texting Tony quickly. 

I think this cashier is flirting with me dude

Is this cashier a hot girl?

I haven’t asked… he/they/she? Is it rude to ask?

Would u care if they had a dick?

Vic’s lips thinned out into a line as he thought for a moment. He seriously hadn’t even thought about it before. He’s had his moments, sure, but who doesn’t take glances of other guys in the locker room in highschool? He’s always just dated girls, they approached him and he eventually fell into a routine of bouncing around girls for quick fucks into his first year of college. 

nvr thought of that before. They seemed masculine, but had eyeliner on. i think she digs the fangs?

U want to invite them?

Ill shoot my shot. Wtf do I do if she has a dick?

Welc to urrrr bisexy awakening lol

Dude, I’m being serious. I think they’re into me. Its been a while since ive got laid

Ur gonna have to get comfortable with dick Victor if ur really tht desperate to fuck smthing

Kys 

Gerard came back with a couple of bags of various bottles clinking together, he sat them on the table before smiling at Vic. She motioned towards the bags. “If you don’t mind me asking, why so much?”

“I was actually going to mention that… What time do you get off work?” Vic smiled again, the sound of her heartbeat was intoxicating to him. He enjoyed how his smile made it rush. “My buddies and I are hosting a gig tonight, would you like to come?” 

“I…” Gerard glanced at the clock on the wall, his face was red. “I get off work in about an hour, if you text me the address I’d be down.” 

“Now, if you don’t mind me.. I kinda have to go set up for this gig.” Vic sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, his anxiety finally creeping in and making him feel like he was being odd. He wasn’t being weird asking this person to be his plus one right? “I also kinda have a friend waiting in the car…” 

“All good dude, I’ll text myself off your phone really fast so you have my number and you can shoot me the address. I had no plans after work, and you seem cool.” Vic held out his phone, the contact app already was open and in response Gerard typed in her number, added herself into his contacts, and texted himself a bat emoji before handing Vic's phone back to him. Vic shoved his phone into his pocket instinctively. Gerard giggled softly, texting Vic a ‘Heyyy.’ The phone buzzing in his pocket was the confirmation that he had to go through with inviting her now, it’s too late to have second thoughts. That’d make him look like an asshole. “Card or cash?”

“Um.. Card.” He replied, tapping his card to the tap to pay quickly. Gerard smiled again at Vic once more, before handing the vampire his receipt. Grabbing his bags, Vic smiled and thanked her quickly. “See you there?”

“I’ll see you at the party, Victor.” Gerard basically batted his long eyelashes. Vic couldn’t help but blush at her using his full name, he was definitely flirting now. 

“Awesome.” Vic turned on his heel, and was basking in the glow of the fact that he possibly scored tonight. Tony glared at him from the car as he finally exited the store. Vic opened the trunk, putting the alcohol in and making sure it wouldn’t break, then he wrapped around back to the passenger side door again. He felt Tony’s glare the entire time, and it somehow got even more intense after he slid into the seat.

“What took so long?” Tony asked, he sounded annoyed. 

“Sorry! I was laying on the Fuentes’ charm.” Vic smiled at Tony, “I had to get her number.” 

Tony laughed quietly, and the two fell into a comfortable silence once again the rest of the drive to Jaime and Tony’s home. Before they even parked in the driveway of the shared home, Jaime came outside talking excitedly. The taller vampire wrapped his arms around Vic, giving him a tight squeeze before giving Tony a brief kiss. 

“Hey Vic, hi Tone, what took you guys so long?” He asked, a soft smile settled on his face.

“Sorry Hime, Vic was inviting the cashier to the party so he can get laid.” Tony replied, and Vic blushed again. Vic helped carry everything he had paid for into the house while Tony and Jaime chatted among themselves about who was going to make the mixed drinks tonight. They eventually settled on Loni, while Vic began to organize the bottles and cases into vodkas, whiskeys, beers, and ciders. The sun was just beginning to dip behind the trees when Loni pulled into the driveway, Linkin Park thumping from the car speakers like a loud warning of what was going to happen tonight. Jaime was already on the porch, with a joint tucked behind one ear and a lighter flicking to life in the other hand. He had basically heard Loni coming from a mile away. Tony emerged from the kitchen doorway carrying a folding table under one arm and a six-pack of beer in the other, grinning when he saw Loni exit the vehicle.

“Finally,” Jaime called, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. “We were starting to think you were going to bail.”

Loni tossed a bag of ice over one shoulder and slammed the car door shut. “You think I’d miss this? This is the party of the year.”

Vic shot Jaime a look, and Jaime apologized with his eyes almost immediately. If looks could kill, Jaime would be dead a thousand times over. “I was told it wasn't going to be that big of a gig, Preciado.”

Loni laughed softly, his voice was soft when we spoke. “We knew you'd bail early if it got too big. That's why we're going to pregame.”

Tony perked up at the sound of pregaming, finally having his fold out table set up properly in the yard. “Yeah Vic, we know you're going through it right now. Let go tonight dude.”

Vic let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping in what appeared to be defeat. It's not that he didn't like being the life of the party, he's just been too busy. He's studying for his Masters of Science and Mortuary Science, a bit of a stereotypical degree for a vampire, but it's a steady job and easy food source for his family. 

Inside, the house was in party prep mode. Tony had already had ashtrays cleaned, random furniture pushed against walls, and a rotating playlist of early 2000s pop, rock, and edm echoing through the house. The house smelled of old weed mixed with the scent of a citrusy cleaner, and Loni found comfort in the smell. Tony and Jaime moved easily around each other in quick succession, lighting incense, testing lights, and generally just tidying up. Loni joined them with a fresh joint and a grin.

Vic began to pack a bong as he sat on the steps up the porch, making sure to borrow Loni’s lighter as he took a deep first hit. He listened to the three other men chat and finished the last minute party preparations from his seat, turning their voices into background noise as he quickly got lost in thought. 

If Kellin shows and I’m shitfaced, who knows what might happen? I might actually kill the guy if he pisses me off. Stupid motherfucker and his dumbass smirk. I wonder what he tastes like.

With the last string of lights finally untangled and hung, and the music dialed down, Tony came out and tapped Vic on the shoulder, giving the other man a soft smile. “Hey man, come chill with us before the party starts.”

Vic nodded, and followed Tony into the living room. One by one, the four men wandered in. The couch, a hand me down from Tony's mom draped in mismatched throw blankets and pillows, had already claimed a dent for each of them over the years. Vic sprawled out first, a cloud of smoke curling from his lips as he handed the bong to Jaime, who took it like he was holding something priceless.

“Let the pregame commence.” Jaime took a hit on the bong. Smoke filled out of his lungs, and he coughed before mumbling about how that was some “good shit.”

Tony lit the blunt he’d been saving since noon, and leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “If nobody shows up, I’m still calling tonight a win,” he said, tapping ash into a tray shaped like a tiny cauldron.

“They'll show up, Jaime's parties are always ones to remember.” Vic replied, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the fucked up couch. He doesn't know what's going to happen if he sees Kellin tonight, or if Gerard shows. Well if Gerard shows he knows.

“I mean shit, I'm excited. It's been so long since we've all had the time to host something like this.” Loni said, twisting the top off his bottle of beer before speaking a second time. “Vic dude, you've been so fucking busy.”

“I know man, class and shit. I had to lock in and grind out all my shit.-” Vic started.

The knock at the door was sharp, interrupting the conversation. The group had been enjoying the calm vibe, smoking just enough weed to have a soft buzz. Tony grinned and stood up, brushing crumbs off his lap. There's no way it's already 7 o'clock. Vic thought to himself.

“I got it,” Tony said, heading toward the door and throwing it open. “Everyone better act like they’ve been here before.”

Standing in front of him is Justin, a friend from the local scene. He’s dressed in a black leather jacket with patches, his hair messy but somehow styled just right. He looks up at Tony and cracks a grin. “Hey Tony! Are you ready to party?”

“Yeah, come on in, man. You’re just in time. Everyone’s inside vibing, it's just the guy's and I right now. Hope you’re ready for a fun one.” Tony stepped aside, motioning to let Justin walk past him. 

As Justin steps in, he takes a second to look around at the setup, the scent of what was in that bong lingering in the air. “Damn, you guys are really setting the mood tonight, huh? Can I hit whatever that smell is?”

Tony chuckles, his eyes squinting a little from the smoke still hanging in the air. He heads toward the living room, where Jaime’s now chatting with Vic, and Loni’s making a snack run to the fridge.

“Yeah, man. Loni’s on the drink duties. It’s all good vibes tonight.”

The doorbell rang again, this time a little more frantic. Jaime stood up, and Vic assumed he walked away to answer it. Tony shot Vic a playful grin, clearly noticing how tense his friend was starting to get. "You good, man?" he asked, giving Vic a nudge with his elbow.

Vic forced a smile, and the look on his face said he was anything but good. The last few weeks had been a blur of deadlines, exams, and dissociation. The days had blurred together so much that being surrounded by people, especially people he hadn't seen in a while, made his chest tighten. He wasn't used to this anymore. “Yeah, yeah. Just been a while. I might’ve smoked a bit too much. Am I being paranoid?"

Tony chuckled quietly, patting Vic on the back and giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "A little. Come on, man. You’re always saying that. You’ll brighten up, you know how you get when you smoke."

But Vic couldn't shake the feeling. He hadn't even seen people like Jeremy in almost a year, not since that weird fallout they had last summer, but Jeremy McKinnon never misses a Jaime Preciado party. And then there was Kellin. No one ever knew if he'd show up, but when he did, it always fucked with Vic. As if on cue, the door creaked open again, and this time it was Kellin. He must’ve come with Justin.

The familiar face made Vic’s heart beat a little faster, but he quickly pushed it down. Kellin looked the same, as cool as always with his dark eyeliner and combat boots, but his eyes were different. Or maybe it was just Vic’s nerves playing tricks on him. He couldn't quite meet Kellin's gaze, but he could feel Kellin staring at him as he turned his attention back to Tony. His anxiety seemed to grow the more familiar faces piled in.

“Yo, what’s up, man? Haven’t seen you in forever,” a voice cut through the noise in Vic’s head. Jeremy had arrived, carrying a vibe around him that made Vic's stomach churn. He had on his usual black hoodie, and Vic could still see the smirk playing at the corner of his lips. The room suddenly felt tighter. More people. More noise. More history that Vic wasn’t sure he was ready to face. He swallowed, reaching for his beer just to have something in his hand. It felt like the walls were closing in on the vampire.

“Hey Jeremy. How’ve you been?” Vic tapped his fingers on the cool bottle in his hand, desperately trying to ground himself. It was good that Jeremy didn’t immediately try to rip his head off.

“Dude, you look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.” Jeremy laughed, and Tony handed him a beer. “I’m here to get fucked up, all previous beef is off the table. No hard feelings.”

And then the door swung open again. This time, it was Gerard, her laugh echoing down the hallway before he even stepped inside. She was followed by a few people Vic didn’t recognize.

“Yo! Where’s the fun at, huh?” Gerard grinned, her short hair framing his face. Their eyes immediately scanned the room, landing on Tony and then quickly darting to Vic. She shot Vic a smile and a wink, before tossing her arm around a man with dark hair. 

Vic couldn’t hide his discomfort as the energy shifted and more people filed in. The low hum of chatter and laughter slowly built as the space grew more crowded. People filtered in, and the house quickly began to feel like a real party.

"Alright, alright, looks like there’s finally some people here. Let's fucking get this going!" Jaime’s voice boomed from the other room as he appeared at the doorway, his arms wide in exaggerated welcome. He shot a wink at Vic, completely oblivious to the fact that his friend was attempting desperately to shrink into the couch, hands still clutching his beer. The room had shifted, it had gone from familiar and calm to something much more messy and insane, and it was all happening too fast. He hadn’t expected this. It felt like he was going to vomit. He finally just said fuck it, and chugged the beer in his hand. He reached down to the cooler planted at his feet, and immediately popped the top off another one. Vic forced himself to stand, taking in a slow breath.

Jaime caught sight of Vic’s anxiety and came over, giving his friend a hug. "Vic? You look like you’re about to bail already."

Vic gritted his teeth, trying to settle his mind. "Sorry. I didn't expect so many people."

Jaime smirked, clearly enjoying the energy building around them. “That’s what parties are for, man. Don't let it get to you.”

But Vic couldn’t shake the tightening in his chest as the laughter and conversations swirled louder around him. His mind wandered back to the faces of everyone in the room. Kellin. Gerard. Loni, who was downing a drink while chatting with Tony. The doorbell rang again, and the cycle began again. More laughter. More faces. More noise, Vic had sunk back into the couch again, elbows resting on his knees. He was trying to ground himself, to tune out the noise and the fluttering nerves that hadn’t let up since even before Kellin walked in. Someone sat next to him on the couch, he finally looked over and was met with Gerard. Gerard smiled softly, and her heart was pounding so loud Vic could hear it over the speakers. Holy fuck, he’s gorgeous. 

The way she plopped down next to Vic was so casual that it felt intentional.

“Hey handsome, sorry I couldn’t greet you when I first got here..” They said, their voice silky and smooth. “I saw you were a bit.. Preoccupied with your friends and didn’t want to be rude. I hope you don’t mind that I brought my roommates, thought ahead incase I get too fucked up.”

Vic shook his head, and smiled softly at her. “It’s okay, that’s the smart thing to do. Jaime likes when his parties turn into big bashes like this.”

Vic looked around the room at the sea of people, a blend of various people. The buzz from three beers and a full bong blurred the sea of people together against the flashing lights. Gerard didn’t say anything at first. Just sat, his body slouched one arm slung lazily over the back of the couch, close enough that Vic could feel the heat of it near his shoulder. He smelled like cigarettes and something sweeter, it made Vic’s head spin.

“You still nursing that beer like it’s a fine wine?” Gerard finally asked, his voice soft and teasing.

Vic turned to look at them, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “I’m pacing myself. It’s called maturity, weren’t you the one who invited their roommate without asking the host?”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” Gerard smirked, eyes narrowing playfully. “I thought maybe you were just scared to have fun.”

Vic chuckled, biting his lip before answering. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the right company.”

Gerard raised an eyebrow. “Well damn,” he said, leaning in a little. Vic watched as their eyes flicked down to his lips, and back up to his eyes. “If that’s all it takes….”

Vic let the silence stretch for a moment, the tension settling in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable. He reached down into the half-empty cooler by his feet, fishing out another beer. He held it up, offering it to Gerard with a tilt of his head. “You want one?”

Gerard didn’t take her eyes off Vic, just reached out slowly, fingers brushing against Vic’s as he took the bottle. The contact lingered just a second too long.

“Thanks,” he said, voice softer now. “You seem like you know how to take care of a gal.”

Vic swallowed, trying not to let the heat rise to his cheeks. “Yeah, well… old habits.”

Gerard cracked the beer open, leaning back, but not pulling away. His knee bumped against Vic’s, and she smirked. Vic could hear her heart racing the entire time. “Some habits are worth keeping.”

Vic smiled softly, and his eyes searched Gerard's face. There was no fear at all in his voice, or face despite being so close to a very not sober vampire. He wasn't even covering his neck like most do. He had no issue at all with the whole vampire thing, and that excited Vic. Vic leaned back into the couch, closer to her arm this time so the two were nearly touching. He spoke, making eye contact again. “I enjoy taking care of others. I guess it comes naturally with being a leader.”

“It's so sexy when a man knows how to …” She trailed off, biting his lip slightly before he spoke again. Her breath hitched, and the arm that was around the couch was now around the shorter male. “knows how to provide…” 

Vic blushed, the weed mixed with enough alcohol finally allowing his nerves to slip away. “Forgive me Gerard… before I do this… I..”

Gerard leaned back, raising an eyebrow at the other. “Yes, Victor?”

“Do you have a dick? It's just- I saw the name tag on your uniform. Not that I care, I'm bisexual, I think.” Vic rambled a bit, his face was bright pink. He didn't want to be rude, he was just curious. 

“Oh sweetie…” Gerard said, her hand brushing down Vic's arm and making him shiver as he batted his eyelashes, “Am I your first experience with cock?” 

“I mean- I- I have one?” Vic laughed softly, and Gerard smiled before weaving his hand into Vic's hair and pulling the shorter man closer. 

“Forgive me for being sudden, dear.” Gerard mumbled, before connecting their lips hastily. Vic immediately melted into the kiss, moving his body so Gerard could toss their legs over his lap and straddle it. Gerard's heart pounded in his ears as her hands roamed his clothed body, grinding her cock against Vic's jeans. His fangs slipped out as he kissed him deeply, poking the other's lips and tearing the skin. Gerard moaned in response, it felt like he was trying to get so close he wanted to climb into Vic's chest and live there. They barely knew each other, and yet they were kissing like they were passionate lovers for years.

Vic pulled away as the taste of blood hit his tongue, chest heaving. Gerard wiped his mouth, a trail of blood dragging across her face. She looked gorgeous in the low lighting. She spoke, licking the blood off her thumb. “Very good, Victor.”

“Sorry for making you bleed.” Vic apologized, his eyes set on the small puncture wounds. The taste of her blood and the smell was intoxicating. How was no one else hopping at the chance to bite her? Did no one else care? Was Vic the only one enthralled with him? 

“It's okay. I liked it.” Gerard smirked, and Vic groaned as he connected their lips together once more. He had barely a drop of her, and it felt like he was already addicted. His heart was pounding so fast, and his hand subconsciously was placed on her chest, placing a physical barrier between them. He was definitely too under the influence to continue kissing a human.

“I'm so sorry. I-I have to stop. I'm a bit too stoned.” His chest began to pound, he couldn't look away from those two tiny puncture wounds on her lips. Live blood tasted like ambrosia compared to the dead. His breathing quickened, and Gerard searched his face. It seemed like Gerard had realized the gravity of the situation, and he stood up off of Vic's lap and into the spot next to him on the couch.

Gerard apologized, kissing Vic’s cheek gently as he moved off of him. His words dripped with affection as he spoke. “Okay handsome, thank you for restraining yourself and not biting me.”

“Thank you for stopping when I asked, gorgeous.” Vic smiled. She shot him a polite smile.

“I'm assuming we'll meet again?” Gerard inquired, rubbing a thumb against Vic's cheek. Vic leaned into the touch, his heart still pounding. He desperately wanted another taste of her.

“Of course. I enjoy your company already, even if we don't know each other.” He spoke, and closed his eyes for a moment. He felt her hand leave his cheek, and the couch shift before he was left alone again.

He took a deep breath before standing and stepping his way down the hall and into the bathroom, surprised no one was making out inside of it for once. He took a deep breath, looking at himself in the mirror. Gerard's blood had dribbled down his chin, and he instinctively stuck his tongue out to lap up the remains. He sighed, turning on the faucet and splashing his face with cool water. He looked like a mess, eyes red and bloodshot, skin pale in the fluorescent shitty bathroom lighting. I'm so pathetic dude, I'm supposed to be cool. What the fuck? 

Suddenly, the door busted open and Vic was shoved against the counter as someone pushed past him. They called out “Sorry!” to him and immediately hunched over the toilet and vomited into it. Vic now saw that the person puking was the one and only Kellin Quinn. Once Kellin had emptied his stomach, he leaned back and sighed.

“Feel better, Quinn?” Vic spoke, looking down at him. He may not like the guy, but he resonated with drinking too much. 

“Oh fuck.. Fuentes…” Kellin mumbled, finally opening his eyes and looking up at the vampire. The harsh light from the bathroom made his stomach churn, and he was throwing up once again into the toilet.

Vic sighed, running a hand into his hair as the wolf continued to vomit. “Stay here Quinn, I'll grab water.” He slipped out of the bathroom, grabbing a random red solo cup before slipping back into the bathroom. He poured the mysterious liquid down the drain, before filling it with water from the tap and handing it to the tattooed wolf.

“Thanks…” Kellin mumbled, sipping the cup before grimacing. “Did this have vodka in it?”

“Probably. I just grabbed the first cup I could.” Vic shrugged, rummaging in Tony and Jaime's medicine cabinet for ibuprofen and anti nausea medication. Vic's been here so many times his friend's home was basically his. He popped two of both into the palm of his hand, before holding it open palmed to Kellin. “Here, anti nausea and headache meds.”

Kellin started at Vic's open hand for a moment, before staring at the vampire. “Why are you helping me?”

“What the fuck type of question is that? I'm not terrible, I'm not going to let you suffer. Take the fucking medication, Kellin.” Vic shoved his hand closer, and Kellin finally accepted the pills before taking another drink of the water.

“But I treat you like shit. I would've left if you were in my position.” Kellin replied, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. 

“I'm not that cruel, dude.” Vic replied, he was confused at where he was going with this.

Kellin pursed his lips before he spoke, “Maybe I am the cruel one.”

Vic searched his face, Kellin's eyes were closed and he frankly looked gorgeous to Vic. His pale skin was so attractive, the curve of his neck.

What the fuck am I thinking? Vic paused, and the two were silent for a moment. Well he IS attractive, objectively speaking. I'm not attracted to him, he just is attractive.

Kellin finally opened his eyes, and Vic felt like he could get lost in the blue. Kellin made eye contact with the vampire, and he didn't know if it was the fact that he was shitfaced, but he couldn't help the words that left his lips. “Don't look at me like that, Fuentes.”

“Like what?” Vic questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Like… like you want to murder me, but also.. like you want me.” Kellin spoke softly, his voice trailing off at the end. Vic could hear his heart racing, and he was sure Kellin could hear his. He was so drunk, they both were. 

“What? You think I want you?” Vic asked, his eyes were firmly planted on Kellin's gorgeous lips.

“I do…” Kellin murmured, “You want me Fuentes, don't think I don't see it. You stare the same way women do.”

Vic flushed, and rolled his eyes. “I stare because it pisses you off. Like earlier, that shit was hilarious.”

“You're fucking insufferable, Fuentes. Why don’t I beat the fuck out of you?” Kellin slurred slightly, and Vic grinned at him. “You look like a mess.”

“You say that, but you're the one actively letting me sit next to you. You're the one on my friend's bathroom floor, vomiting. So, we're both messes.” Vic replied, and Kellin rolled his eyes. 

"At least I have my shit together. You could do better." Kellin said, he didn't know if it was the vodka, but he was a one track mind right now. His thoughts a jumbled mess as he moved without thinking, gripping Vic's shirt with his hands he pulled the vampire closer and smashed their lips together. Vic gasped against Kellin's lips, and the noise seemed to snap Kellin sober. He apologized, hastily pulling away and pushing the vampire. Vic cursed as his head slammed against the wall behind him, and he reached up to cover where his skull smacked against drywall.

Before he could blink again, he heard the bathroom door slam shut and he was alone again. I'm not fucking getting laid tonight. Why am I even fucking here man?

Chapter Text

The darkness Vic clung to was quiet, warm, and familiar, a dull pound began to form behind the vampire's eyes as he stirred slightly. Somewhere far away, a foot nudged his ribs. Not hard, but persistent.

“Vic,” a voice called, muffled by cotton and Vic’s skull-splitting headache. The toe jabbed again. “Vic, get up. Come on, man, you smell like cheap rum.”

Vic cracked open one bloodshot eye, squinting up at a silhouetted figure haloed in weak morning light.

“Tony?” he croaked, voice brittle and dry. “What the hell…”

Tony crouched beside him, his dark hair pulled back into a lazy bun. He spoke, his voice soft. “You passed out on my floor. In my guest bathroom. Which, by the way, we don’t usually reserve for blacked-out vampires.”

Vic groaned and rubbed his face with both hands. “What time is it?”

“Late enough that Jaime already made pancakes and went to bed. Early enough that I don’t want to yell and wake him.”

With a grunt, Vic sat up, ignoring how the tiled floor sent a shiver down his spine. The room spun briefly, and he closed his eyes until it steadied. His mouth felt like it had been lined with sandpaper. Tony handed him a mug of something warm and crimson.

“Cow, microwave-heated. You’ll thank me later.”

Vic sipped without complaint, already feeling the edge of his hangover ease as the blood soothed the ache in his throat.

“You drank a lot last night,” Tony added, sitting cross-legged beside him now, expression unreadable. “Even for you.”

“Was it that bad?”

“Well, you drank a bunch, made out with a human on my couch, and almost bit him. We all fucking saw it dude. And then…” Tony tilted his head. “You disappeared for a while.”

Something in Vic’s stomach clenched. Not from the blood but from the memory trying to claw its way out of his mind. He had a mental image of someone’s lips pressing against his own.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You remember what happened?”

Vic looked away. “Sort of.”

Tony smirked. “So, you and Kellin, huh?”

Vic froze. “Shit. How the fuck do you know about that? I was in here the entire time.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, fishing his phone out and showing him a picture Jaime had sent him the night before. Below the image, Jaime sent a ton of thinking emojis and a “WHAT THS ACTULF FUCK>S?”

Vic stared at the image, jaw slacked open. There it was, plain as day. He had kissed Kellin Quinn, the werewolf he was supposed to hate. The heir of the Quinn family pack. The same Kellin who’d snarled threats at Vic constantly. The one whose claws had once torn open the side of Vic’s best friend. Vic had kissed him. On Tony’s goddamn bathroom floor. Jaime had a picture of it, how long were they kissing? When did the door open? Did he shut the door after getting the cup for him? How the FUCK did the door get open? He’s kissing a man, on camera, the man he was supposed to hate. Kellin fucking Quinn. Everyone saw him kissing not one, but two men last night. Was he okay with that?

“You didn’t just kiss him,” Tony said, clearly reading his guilt. “You were practically howling.”

Vic winced. “Please don’t make wolf jokes.”

“I will absolutely keep making wolf jokes. You kissed a werewolf, Vic. You kissed two men actually.”

“I was drunk. It didn’t mean anything.”

Tony chuckled. “Didn’t look like nothing. The human looked at you like he wanted you to sink your teeth into his neck. Kellin looked like he wanted you dude.”

Vic wanted to die. “Please tell me no one else saw.”

“Oh, no one important,” Tony said, casually picking at his nails. “Just Jaime. One of Kellin’s packmates.”

Vic dropped his head into his hands. “I should kill myself right now.”

“Relax,” Tony added gently. “It was just Justin, he’s cool. But you should figure out what you’re doing.”

“I hate him,” Vic whispered, though the words felt hollow.

Tony didn’t reply immediately. He just nudged Vic’s arm gently.

“I fucking hate him.” Vic repeated, he didn’t know who he was trying to convince.

“I’ve seen hate,” he said. “Last night? That wasn’t hate. That was two creatures pretending they don’t care, right up until they start tearing each other’s clothes off. You’ve been pretending for a while man, we all can see it.”

Vic didn’t answer. He sat on the cold floor, the aftertaste of blood on his tongue and the ghost of Kellin’s lips still pressed into the corner of his memory. And the worst part? He didn’t feel sorry about it. Not really, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Vic, what is this about? Is it the interspecies thing?” Tony asked, and Vic sighed. Tony’s gaze softened when he made eye contact with the shorter vampire. “Is it about the bisexy joke I made? I wasn’t trying to pressure you into labeling yourself. Is it a gay thi-?”

Vic raised his hand, interrupting Tony before he could go onto a tangent. “I just don’t know. I don’t. I never had an issue with any of that.. I thought? I’m cool with you and Jaime, always have been. It’s just… not something I thought I’d experience. Always thought I’d marry some vamp or maybe even a human girl.”

Tony looked at him, before patting Vic gently on the back. “I get it man… come on. Let’s go see if Hime is up, I think I hear him.”

Vic watched as Tony stood and left him alone once again. Vic stayed on the bathroom floor longer than he cared to admit. The mug sat empty in his lap, and the hangover finally started to loosen its grip. The air still carried remnants of last night’s chaos, alcohol, burnt weed, and something else more primal. The scent of moss and that sharp, animalistic edge that was so very werewolf.

Kellin’s scent.

God. Of course Vic remembered it. Sharp pine and a little earthy, with hints of vanilla. Kellin had always acted like he was a threat to Vic, but last night Vic had kissed him like he needed the danger.

This was bad .

He stood on shaky legs and dragged himself down the hallway, following the sound of Jaime’s humming and the smell of pancakes. The house was warm, the dawn filtered in to show the lazily cleaned apartment.

“Look who’s alive,” Jaime chirped from the stove, flipping a pancake with precision. “Barely. But it’s progress.”

Tony sat at the island, sipping coffee and looking way too pleased with himself. “You look like you kissed a werewolf,” he said without looking up.

“I hate both of you.”

“You kissed Kellin Quinn,” Jaime said. “The guy who once growled at you just for breathing too loud during an exam.”

“He tried to kill my best friend.. Or do you not remember Tony almost dying?” Vic shot back.

“I set his brother’s tail on fire,” Tony pointed out, but Vic saw him flinch. 

“That was an accident.” Vic said, the man knew it wasn’t an accident. 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “I set his brother’s tail on fire. I deserved it.”

Vic scowled. “I hate him.”

“He kissed you,” Jaime said, sliding a plate in front of him. “Hard. And you kissed him back harder once you locked in.”

Vic dropped his face into his hands. “I need to move. I think I need to kill myself actually.”

“You need to talk to him,” Jaime said casually. “Because if he acts like it doesn't mean anything, I think you’ll lose your mind.”

Vic didn’t argue, because that thought had already hit him this morning and it had made him feel something sharp twist behind his ribs.

“Maybe it was just a mistake,” he muttered.

Tony leaned in, serious now. “No. People don’t look this fucked over a mistake they made while drunk.”

Vic didn’t touch his pancakes. He just stared at the plate, remembering the way Kellin had looked at him after the kiss, like he’d wanted to run away but couldn’t make his feet move. Like he was terrified of how badly he wanted Vic.

“I need some air.” He shoved his chair back and grabbed his jacket, heading for the door.

“If you see him,” Tony called after him, “Maybe bite next time, werewolves like that.”

The streets were quiet. Dusk was creeping in under a pale gray sky, the kind of evening that made everything feel between worlds. Vic kept his head down and walked fast, heart pounding harder than it should’ve been. He couldn’t shake the image of Kellin. His dumbass smirk, his eyes sharp and dangerous, the way he’d sighed Vic’s name like it was an oath and a curse all in one. Vic stopped under a streetlamp and pulled out his phone. He hesitated for a long time, thumb hovering over the screen.

Kellin Quinn

Last message: “Keep your leech friend off my porch.” - 3 weeks ago

He stared at it. There was a picture of Jaime grinning, blood pouring from his nose. The only other previous conversation was from when Vic had gotten grouped with him in his Human Bio class prior in the year.

Then he typed:

About last night… we need to talk.

Sent.

Vic didn’t move after he sent the message. The phone sat in his hand like it weighed ten pounds. The street was silent except for the occasional hum of traffic a few blocks away and the rustle of trees in the wind. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, long, mournful, and gone before it could mean anything. The noise kept Vic tuned into reality.

He hated this feeling.

Not the hangover, not even the guilt. It was the waiting that was unbearable. The sharp ache in his chest that came with knowing you’d crossed a line you weren’t supposed to cross, and not being sure whether you regretted it.

The message sat, delivered, then was Read . The bubble indicating Kellin had begun to type flashed for a second, and then disappeared. Vic waited for another moment too long, almost hopeful.

No reply.

Typical.

Vic shoved his phone into his coat pocket and walked. San Diego had that half dead look it always wore just before sunset. Most humans were home, drawing blinds and settling down for the night. A few other creatures of the night lingered at corners, eyes glowing faintly in the growing gloom. None of them looked at Vic. He was used to that. Vampires didn’t mix well with others.

The feud between Vampires and werewolves went back centuries. Some ancient betrayal, some cursed pact that had fractured the supernatural world down the middle. Most of the younger supernatural didn’t care much about the original war, but the old hate still pulsed through the Quinn family with generational trauma. Kellin thought vampires were elitist parasites. Vic thought his pack were mindless animals as a result. There was no middle ground. There was no peace between the two. It was always glares, and mumbled curses. 

Except, apparently, on Tony’s bathroom floor.

Vic turned a corner and found himself staring up at the iron-wrought gates of the Greenwood Memorial Park and Mortuary; he didn’t mean to go there, but his feet had dragged him anyway.
He pushed open the gate. The rusted metal groaned.

Inside, the cemetery was still. Headstones stood like rows of forgotten soldiers. A few spirits lingered, glowing faintly, whispering to one another in voices only the dead understood. Vic walked past them without a glance. There was a mausoleum at the back, hidden beneath overgrown ivy and a broken angel statue. He used to go there to think when he was younger. He hadn’t been back in years.

Vic sat on the crumbling stone steps and leaned back, closing his eyes.

He shouldn’t have kissed Kellin.

Not because it was wrong, but because it felt too right. 

And that was terrifying.

Last night something had changed. It had cracked the lie. It had been one long moment of closeness, mouths slanting together, fingers twisted in shirt fabric, breath shared like it was holy and Vic had wanted it. Kellin had let him want it. Want him without threatening to kill him. He hadn’t pushed him away. He hadn’t growled or bitten or stormed off. He’d kissed back. Hard. Desperate. Like he wanted to tear down the entire world just for another second of it.

Vic’s phone buzzed in his pocket. His hand shook when he pulled it out.

Kellin Quinn:

Come to the bridge by the old train tracks

Come alone

Now

No punctuation. No emotion. But it was Kellin. It was something.

Vic stood up slowly, familiar emotions squirreled around his chest. Anxiety vs lust. He should say no. He should go home, pretend it never happened, burn every piece of the memory in his mind.

Instead, he texted back.

On my way.

The train tracks had been dead for decades. The old bridge that spanned the ravine between the two sides was cracked and half-collapsed, but it still stood. And standing on the center of it, one hand in his pocket was Kellin. The top of Soledad mountain was behind him, framing him perfectly. Vic’s steps slowed as he approached. He didn’t look up until Vic was just a few feet away. His expression was unreadable.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” Kellin said finally, voice low.

“You told me to.” Vic said.

“I didn’t think you would listen.”

Vic crossed his arms. “Do you always summon people like that? Or am I special?”

Kellin snorted. “I kissed you on a bathroom floor while half the supernatural community partied a few rooms away. I think we’ve moved past subtle.”

Vic looked away, jaw tight. “I was drunk.”

“I was shitfaced,” Kellin said simply.

The words landed like a fist.

Vic looked at him again. Kellin’s eyes weren’t green now. They were dark and unreadable - but something flickered in them. Uncertainty. Or hope.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Kellin said, though it tasted like a lie.

“Probably not,” Vic agreed. “But you did.”

“You’re a vampire.”

Vic stepped closer. “And you’re a werewolf. You’ve been raised to hate me, Kellin. You’re supposed to tear me apart, not… whatever that was.”

Kellin wanted to step back. But he didn’t.

He wanted to run like he always does. But he couldn’t.

Vic took another step. Close enough now that Kellin could see the line of his throat, the tension in his jaw.

“It wasn’t just a kiss,” Vic said. “It wasn’t just drunk stupidity. And if you tell me it meant nothing, I’ll call you a liar.”

Kellin swallowed. “Why did you let me?”

Vic looked away, then back. “Because I wanted to. Because every time you look at me like you want to kill me, I wonder what it would feel like if you looked at me like you wanted something else. And last night, you did.”

The silence that followed was physically painful. Vic breathed in slowly. The wind shifted. Kellin smelled like pine, wolf, earth and moonlight. He was gorgeous.

“I don’t know what this is,” Kellin said. “I don’t know what the hell we’re doing.”

“Neither do I,” Vic whispered. “But I want to find out.”

Kellin stared at him, and then without fully meaning to, he reached out. 

Vic met him halfway.

The kiss was softer this time, with no desperation in the way Kellin moved against his lips. Vic noted that the man tasted faintly of alcohol, though he didn't know how fresh it was. He chose to ignore the taste, just leaning into the warmth as his tension finally gave way. Kellin’s hands curled in Vic’s hoodie as Vic tangled his fingers in Kellin’s hair. When they broke apart, Kellin didn’t pull away.

Kellin's lips were red, his breath shallow, and wild lust sparkled in his eyes.

Vic blinked, heart stuttering. “That was-”

“Yeah,” Kellin said, running a hand through his hair, which was even more disheveled now. “Sorry. I think I drank a bit too much.”

Vic paused. “You’re drunk?”

Kellin squinted. “Tipsy. Buzzed. Spiraling emotionally. Take your pick.”

“Right.” Vic crossed his arms. “And why, exactly, are you drunk under a full moon?”

Kellin gave a loose shrug and looked out over the ravine. “Because I’m a Quinn, and apparently that comes with trauma and a three drink minimum at every family dinner.”

Vic stared at him. “You were at a family dinner?”

“I lasted forty-five minutes before I decided that listening to my uncle talk about how vampires ‘corrupted the supernatural gene pool’ was a great excuse to start stealing shots.” Kellin said, not meeting Vic’s eyes. There was bitterness in his voice.

Vic’s eyes narrowed. “They’re still like that?”

Kellin gave him a look. “You think I like getting blackout and making out with you in someone’s guest bathroom?”

Vic smirked in spite of himself. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed pretty into it.”

Kellin groaned and leaned forward, elbows on the cold metal railing as he gazed towards the mountain. “Don’t remind me. My head’s a mess.”

“You kissed me.”

“I know I kissed you.”

“And you weren’t just being polite about it.”

Kellin glanced sideways. “I was being polite. You looked sad. I was helping.”

“Helping? By sticking your tongue in my mouth?” Vic asked.

Kellin didn’t flinch. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Vic let out a breath. “You’re such an ass.”

“You’re not denying it made you feel better.”

They were both quiet for a second.

Vic watched him carefully. “Is this a game to you?”

Kellin’s jaw tightened. “No.”

“Then what is it?”

Kellin stared at the ground for a long time. Then back at Vic.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just know that I was drunk enough to ignore what I’ve been told since I could walk. And even now, kinda sober, I don’t regret kissing you. That’s the part that’s fucking with me.”

Vic’s chest twisted at the honesty in that. “Then don’t regret it.”

Kellin blinked at him. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“Is it?” Vic took a step closer. “I’m the one who sobered up with your mouth on mine and no idea what to do about it. I’m the one trying to figure out if this was just some drunken impulsive wolf thing or if you actually fucking meant it Quinn.”

“I did mean it.”

“Then say that.” There was increasing frustration with every word that left Vic's mouth.

Kellin stared at him. “I meant it.”

The words felt heavier in the air than Vic expected. Like they didn’t deserve to be said out loud.

“I meant it,” Kellin said again, quieter now. “And I hate that I meant it. Not because of you. But because it complicates everything.”

“There isn’t a war anymore,” Vic said. “No one cares.”

“My family cares,” Kellin snapped. “They still think vampires are demons wrapped in a faux human. My mom doesn’t even go to restaurants with blood menus. She says it’s ‘disrespectful to the living.’”

Vic raised an eyebrow. “I don’t even drink blood in front of people unless they’re into that.”

“That would not help your case.”

“No,” Vic said slowly. “But maybe I’m not trying to make a case. Maybe I just… like kissing you.”

Kellin stared at him. “Are you trying to flirt with me or emotionally damage me more?”

Vic shrugged. “Why not both?”

Kellin laughed, it was short, breathy, and reluctant. But it was real. “God, you’re infuriating.”

“So kiss me again.”

Kellin’s eyes flashed. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Then do it.”

They stood there for a long time. The tension tightened between them again, though it was not hostile this time.

But Kellin stepped back.

“I can’t,” he said, voice hoarse. “Not tonight.”

Vic nodded. He understood and wasn't hurt, this is raw and weird. “Okay.”

Kellin looked surprised. “Okay?”

“I’m not gonna push you.”

Kellin shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “Most people don’t say ‘okay’ to me.”

Vic gave a half-smile. “I'm not most people, Quinn.”

Kellin stared at him. 

“Don’t make me like you.” he said.

Vic chuckled. “Too late.”

They didn’t kiss again that night.

Vic walked Kellin back to the edge of the forest, where the trees swallowed up the sidewalks and the streetlights started to vanish. Kellin paused at the treeline, fingers brushing Vic’s sleeve.

“Thanks for not making this weird,” Kellin said quietly.

“It’s already weird,” Vic replied, then realized his mistake. “Sorry.”

Kellin gave him one last look. It was unreadable, then disappeared into the woods. Vic stood there until the wind blew cold enough to send him home.

The next few days passed strangely.

Vic tried to go about his routines, classes, labs, running from the sun, making half-hearted attempts at work, but everything felt slightly off. It was like gravity was tilted. Like the world had shifted everything an inch to the left without telling him.

And then there were the texts.

Kellin:

You ever think about that kiss?

Vic:

Which one?

You know which one.

I haven’t stopped thinking about it.

Good. Me neither.

The knock came at 2:13 a.m.

Vic was lying on the couch in his tiny downtown apartment, a half-eaten bag of popcorn scattered across his lap. The Netflix menu blinked “Are you still watching?” for the third time, and the faint scent of weed clung to the air like fog. Vic had been riding that soft, fuzzy edge like a lifeline while he doom scrolled. Until someone pounded on his door like they wanted to break it down.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Vic blinked at the cat video he was watching, unmoving.

“…Nope,” he muttered, tossing a popcorn kernel into his mouth. “I'm not here.”

BANG. BANG.

Then a voice; it was slurred, unmistakable, and way too loud for the hallway. “VICCCCCCCC.”

Vic sat up fast. “Oh no.”

More pounding and a body thudding against the door. Kellin muttered a curse. “Vic, I know you’re in there. Open up before I turn into a wolf and blow this place down.”

Vic sighed, dragged himself to his feet, and padded barefoot to the door. He cracked it open. “How did you even fucking get my address, Kellin?”

Kellin was leaning against the doorframe, shirt untucked, hair a mess, and eyes slightly crossed from how hard he was trying to stand still. He smelled like cheap whiskey, sweat, pine, and rain. “Sorry. Might've asked Justin..”

“You’re drunk.” Vic stated the obvious.

“I’m happy,” Kellin said, then hiccuped. “...And very drunk.”

Vic sighed. “Why are you here?”

Kellin pushed past him and stumbled inside. “Because I made a mistake.”

Vic shut the door and turned around slowly. “You drove like this?”

“I don’t drive while drunk. I ran.”

“You ran across half the city hammered?”

Kellin flopped face-first onto the couch and groaned into one of Vic’s pillows. “I’m a werewolf. It’s cardio.”

Vic ran a hand down his face. “Jesus.”

“I brought snacks,” Kellin added, muffled.

Vic glanced down. There was a brown paper bag on the floor near the couch, slightly crushed. He picked it up and peeked inside. A bottle of type A blood that wasn't kept properly cold so it congealed, and one slightly mangled cupcake with black icing was all that was inside.

“You brought offerings like I’m a god.” Vic giggled.

“Close enough,” Kellin muttered.

Vic sat on the arm of the couch, eyeing him. “You wanna tell me what this is about? Or are we just doing the drunk wolf slumber party thing without context?”

Kellin flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, eyes glossy. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Vic’s chest tightened.

Kellin waved his arms dramatically. “There. I said it. You’re a vampire. I’m a wolf. My whole family would probably perform an exorcism if they thought I was being seduced by someone with fangs. But I kissed you anyway. Twice. And it was so good that I kind of hate you for it.”

Vic raised an eyebrow. “You kinda hate me still?”

Kellin pointed a wobbly finger. “Hate. Loathe. Despise. I want to kiss you until my brain shuts off.”

He paused for a moment, before speaking again. “I think you should die, actually.”

Vic chuckled under his breath, the buzz in his veins making everything feel slightly unreal. “You’re a mess.”

“I know,” Kellin groaned. “God, you smell nice. What is that, weed?”

“Lavendar and disappointment.”

Kellin stood up too quickly and swayed. Vic caught him before he could faceplant into the coffee table. “Whoa. Easy.” Vic mumbled.

Kellin blinked at him, their faces suddenly close. “You have really… stupid eyes.”

“Stupid?”

“They’re all warm and soft, like you like me or something. It’s very inconvenient. Stop looking at me like that.” Kellin replied.

Vic held his breath. “Why are you really here?”

Kellin was quiet for a second. Then, he spoke softly. “Because I didn’t want to be alone tonight. You’re the only person who doesn’t make me feel like I have to explain why I feel like shit. You always let me feel it.”

Vic swallowed thickly, and he watched as Kellin began to shake. The wolf was drunk and crumbling. Vic wanted to hold him together.

“You’re not alone,” he said.

Kellin slumped forward into Vic’s arms. “That’s the worst part. Why did it have to be you?”

Vic held him there, his arms wrapped around the shivering creature who could tear through him at any given second and yet, right now, Kellin just needed a warm body to hold him. Vic didn't know what he was doing, he just held the taller man as the wolf ran through every emotion at once.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

Eventually, Vic guided him gently to the floor, grabbed a blanket from the hall closet, and lowered them both down into the makeshift nest between the couch and the coffee table. Kellin curled up next to him.

“Why are you like this?” Kellin asked quietly into Vic’s shoulder. ”I treated you horribly for years. I treated your entire species like shit. And now you let me kiss you? How?”

“Because I see you.”

Kellin went still.

“I see the way you act like none of this touches you. Like you’re always in control. I stopped caring about hating you ages ago, I just didn't know how to do anything else.”

Kellin didn’t speak again for a while. He just exhaled, slow and warm against Vic’s chest.

“…You’re soft for a vampire,” he mumbled.

“You’re weird for a werewolf.”

“Shut the fuck up before I make you, Fuentes.”

They fell asleep like that. Bodies tangled together while half-buzzed, under a blanket that smelled faintly of Vic’s laundry soap and ash.

Morning crept in slowly. Muted sunlight leaked through the blackout curtains, casting long shadows across the floor of Vic’s apartment. The smell of old incense still lingered faintly. Kellin woke up first.

It took him a moment to remember where he was. His body was half-draped over the vampire, his cheek pressed against a hoodie-covered chest, Vic's heartbeat heavy and slow beneath him. The floor was hard and the blanket was too small. His mouth tasted like whiskey and shame. He blinked, groaned softly, and sat up.

Vic didn’t move. He was still asleep, his face tilted slightly toward the ceiling with mouth parted just a little. His hair was tangled and fucked.

Kellin stared at him for a long moment, then cursed under his breath. He looked beautiful.

Kellin moved carefully, untangling himself from Vic’s warmth. He started standing with a quiet wince as his head throbbed. His clothes felt too tight. The weight of last night pressed down on his chest.

He remembered running, and the door-pounding. The way Vic had held him without judgment. 

Kellin had never known softness like that. Not from anyone. Not especially Victor Fuentes.

He padded silently into the kitchen, and found a pen in a random drawer. There was a receipt from some blood delivery service on the counter. He flipped it over and started to write. The pen scratched awkwardly and his handwriting was messy.

Vic,

Sorry for showing up last night like a drunk dumbass.

I didn’t mean to make things weird, or somehow worse.

I just didn’t know where else to go.

You were kind anyway. Thanks.

Sorry for bothering you.

— K

He stared at the note for a second longer than he meant to. Then he folded it in half, creased the edges carefully, and slid it under Vic’s hand where it still rested on the edge of the blanket. He didn’t look back as he slipped out the door.

Vic woke up an hour later.

His mouth was dry, and the space beside him felt cold. It took a second for him to register the silence, it was not the comfortable kind of silence. It was empty. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, and noticed the folded note just beneath his fingers.

He opened it.

Read it.

Then read it again.

He spoke softly into the quiet morning, “You weren’t bothering me, Kellin.”

But the wolf was already gone.

Chapter Text

The sun rose over San Diego with the kind of bright, relentless clarity that made hangovers feel like punishment from God Herself. Kellin Quinn squinted into the light as he trudged up the quiet residential street toward his family’s home. His jacket was wrinkled, his combat boots dusty from city sidewalks, and his head throbbed. He reeked of cigarette smoke, whiskey, and something dead.

He smelled like Victor Fuentes.

He didn’t know what was worse; the headache, the guilt, or that unmistakable scent of a vampire lingered on his clothes. He hadn't even realized it until he was halfway home, and by then it was too late.

The front door opened before he could touch the handle.

His mother stood in the doorway, she was still somehow a commanding presence in her robe and slippers. She looked him over once, and then her nostrils flared. She stiffened, her jaw locked. “What is that smell Kellin Quinn?”

Kellin stalled. “Hi, Mom.”

She stepped out onto the porch, grabbed him by the wrist, and hauled him inside like he was still sixteen. The door slammed shut behind them.

“You smell like leech,” she snapped. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

Kellin winced. “It’s not- look, it’s not what you think.”

“You were with one of them.”

“It’s not like I was out hunting for him,” Kellin said. “I ended up at a bar. I was drunk. Things just… happened.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Him? Victor Fuentes? That smug little corpse?”

Kellin exhaled through his nose, jaw clenched.

“We didn’t fight,” he said.

“Then what the hell did you do?” she demanded.

He dropped into one of the kitchen chairs and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. “I was drunk, okay? I couldn’t drive. I had nowhere to go and his home was closest to the bar I was at.”

“So you thought the best place to sleep it off was a vampire’s nest?” She sneered. 

“It wasn’t a nest. It was an apartment.  It was clean and quiet. He gave me a blanket.” Kellin tried his best explain to explain and diffuse his mother's anger.

“A blanket?” she repeated, voice low and disgusted. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

Kellin looked up at her. “We didn’t do anything. We talked. We sat on the floor. We fell asleep.”

“Right next to a predator.”

“I’m not a kid,” he said sharply. “I made a call.”

“You made a dangerous call,” she said, her voice rising again. “He’s a vampire, Kellin. You don’t trust their kindness. You don’t trust their peace offerings. You don’t let them lull you into feeling safe.”

“I wasn’t safe already,” Kellin said. “I was shitfaced. I wasn’t thinking about supernatural politics or centuries-old grudges. I was drunk, and he was there.”

And he wasn’t the monster you keep telling me he is.

His mother took a slow breath, her arms crossing tight over her chest. Her voice dropped.

“Vampires don’t change,” she said. “They wait and they smile as they sharpen the knife. Get your problems in check, you’re a Quinn.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Kellin muttered.

“I never said you were.” She moved to the counter and poured herself coffee with trembling hands. “I said you were a Quinn. Quinn's don’t crawl home reeking of bloodsucker.”

Kellin rose from the chair, face stiff. “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not.”

After a long moment, Kellin said quietly, “He didn’t hurt me. And he didn’t ask for anything in return. He just showed me kindness.”

His mother didn’t look at him, but her grip on the mug loosened just slightly.

“I still don’t trust them.” she said.

“You don’t have to,” Kellin replied. “I’m the one who was there.”

She turned to face him finally, her expression was distasteful. “You were lucky,” she said. “Now go shower. You smell.”

Kellin left the kitchen without another word, his shoulders tense, his heart was stuck somewhere between regret and something he didn’t quite have the courage to name. Kellin climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to put some distance between himself and the kitchen. The house was quiet now, but that didn’t mean it was calm. His mother’s words still echoed in the back of his head, sharp as fangs.

“You were lucky.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he was in trouble just being around Vic, a sour taste formed in his mouth at the thought.

He kicked his boots off outside the bathroom door, peeled his shirt over his head, and flicked on the overhead light. The mirror above the sink caught his reflection: pale with dark circles under his eyes. His hair was a mess. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. But he had slept, on a hardwood floor, wrapped in a blanket that smelled faintly of fabric softener and….

Vic.

Kellin turned on the water, stepping into the shower before it fully heated, welcoming the shock of it. He let the water run over his face and tried to shake off the weight pressing against his chest. He hadn’t meant to stay the night, that part was true, he could’ve left. He could’ve walked home, called Justin, or shifted and risked the stumble back through the city. Instead, he sat on a vampire’s floor, with his head on Vic’s chest, sharing silence under a blanket with someone who technically was supposed to hate him.

It didn't feel wrong. It felt like the first time in months he wasn’t performing. He didn’t have to snap his teeth and provide for someone. Vic didn’t press. He just listened, and when Kellin stopped talking, he didn’t fill the silence. He just stayed.

Kellin pressed his palms against the tile wall, letting the steam rise around him. It should have been weird. He should be disgusted with himself, or at least angry. Vic was a vampire and Kellin was a Quinn. His family had built their reputation on knowing better than to play nice with the dead.

So why did he keep replaying the moment Vic had looked at him from the couch?

Why did he remember the warmth of his presence more than the cold of his touch?

It didn’t make sense.

Kellin leaned his forehead against the wall. Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was the way the city lights had looked from Vic’s window. Maybe it was just loneliness, catching him off-guard like it always did when the noise died down.

Or maybe it was the fact that Vic hadn’t tried to fix him. He’d just been there. That made it worse.

Kellin clenched his jaw, steam curling around his chest. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. This wasn’t just crossing a line, this was trampling it, setting it on fire, and throwing himself into the ashes. Part of him was already wondering if Vic was awake. If he’d noticed Kellin leaving without saying goodbye, he wanted it to hurt if he did.

He shut the water off and stood there, dripping, cold, and full of questions he didn’t have answers to. The bathroom mirror was fogged up, mercifully sparing him his reflection.

He didn’t know what this was.

The mirror was still fogged when Kellin stepped out of the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips and hair soaked still. He didn’t bother clearing the steam. He didn’t want to see his face right now. The hallway was quiet. His mother hadn’t moved from downstairs, she was definitely pretending she wasn’t listening to every creak in the floorboards. 

Back in his room, Kellin pulled on a hoodie and a clean pair of sweatpants. He dropped onto his bed with a heavy sigh, grabbing his phone off the nightstand.

Three texts from the pack group chat. One missed call from Justin who he didn’t want to talk to. And four texts from Vic.

His heart stuttered for half a second before he tapped it open.

Vic:

Hey just wanted to say you werent bothering me last night

If u evr need to use my place like a Cheap motel again, lmk lol

i get if you need space or whatever. Just wanted 2 say it was chill

sory if it was weird

Kellin stared at the screen. The blinking cursor below Vic’s last message seemed to taunt him.

sory if it was weird.

Kellin could practically hear Vic’s voice behind the words. He tried to play it off maybe a little too casually, like it didn’t matter if Kellin replied. But it did matter, he wouldn’t have sent it at all if it didn’t matter. That made Kellin’s chest twist in a way he didn’t like. He read it again. And again. He locked his phone and tossed it facedown on the bed beside him. He kind of felt bad about leaving the vampire on read. He didn’t know what to say, or what he could say. He’d crossed a line just by being there. Maybe he crossed a week ago kissing him. What did it mean? He didn’t brush it off like some strange night with a drunk werewolf who’d gotten too comfortable on his couch? Why hadn’t Kellin hadn’t stopped thinking about it?

He rubbed his hand down his face, tension settling into his jaw again.

This was stupid. It was nothing.

He’d just needed a place to crash. That’s all. He wasn’t going to get pulled into some soft-eyed, late-night vampire drama. He wasn’t going to be that guy.

The phone buzzed again on the bed beside him. A short, sharp vibration that made Kellin flinch. It wasn’t Vic this time, it was Justin. The text preview made Kellin’s stomach flip.

Justin:

uh

so you and Vic Fuentes???

📸

Kellin opened the message. The photo loaded slowly, like the universe wanted to drag out the drama.

It was grainy, low-light, clearly taken from the party a week ago in Jaime’s bathroom. Two figures. Vic and him, kissing. Kellin’s heart stopped for a full beat. He barely remembered that night. He had too many shots. It had been a mistake, he’s been making a lot of those recently, and now one of those mistakes was captured in a photo.

The text bubble popped again.

Justin:

you didn’t tell me anything happened?

was that just some drunk thing or is there more goin on??

Kellin stared at the photo for a long moment, blood pounding in his ears. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. Should he just delete the messages and pretend to be confused if Justin asks? Pretend it clearly isn’t him when it so very obviously is him kissing Vic Fuentes? Should he just laugh and play it off?

Kellin:

It was a mistake. I was shitfaced and throwing up, he showed me kindness

He looked sad, and Idk shitfaced me thought it’d be a good idea to kiss him to make him feel better

I swear it meant nothing

I dont believe you dude

Jaime took that pick he saw it all, said you were into it

So you knew before this?

What? Jaime was the one that took the picture?

Did vic not tell u?

I haven’t seen him since that night

He felt a pang of guilt in his chest lying to his pack member, but he didn’t want anyone else to find out about last night. 

Ok bro

Kellin didn’t answer Justin’s text right away. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t start a bigger conversation he wasn’t ready for. So he let it sit, burning in the back of his mind. A few hours later, another message buzzed through.

look

Don’t freak

but you should come out tonight

club called Eclipse, karaoke n vodka

Kellin stared at the message. Eclipse. He’s been there before. It wasn’t like Justin to go somewhere like that. And it definitely wasn’t like him to invite Kellin.

Fine.

But you’re buying the first round.

The music at Eclipse hit when they stepped through the heavy side-door entrance tucked behind a boarded-up storefront in East Village. Inside, the club shimmered in deep reds and violet shadows, lights pulsing like veins under the floor. It smelled like sweat, old magic, and something faintly metallic. Kellin took it in with a sharp breath, he was tense, alert, but not hostile. No one looked twice at him or at Justin, Justin led them to the bar. Two shots of something dark and bitter hit the counter before either of them said anything.

“To questionable decisions,” Justin said.

Kellin clinked his glass against his and threw it back. They drank in silence for a while, tucked into the edge of the bar where the noise wasn’t overwhelming. The bass thumped low through the floor, a rhythm that buzzed through Kellin’s bones.

“Look,” Justin finally said, spinning his empty glass between his fingers. “I’m not gonna judge whatever that kiss was. Okay? I was just surprised.”

Kellin stared at the liquor in his second glass.

“I barely remember it,” he said. “We didn’t talk about it. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”

“Sure,” Justin said, not quite buying it. “Just two guys with history deciding to suck face for the hell of it.”

Kellin rolled his eyes. “You make it sound worse than it was.”

“I make it sound true,” Justin replied with a lopsided grin. “Relax. I’m not telling the rest of the pack. You wanna talk about it?”

Kellin paused.

“No.”

Justin raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough.”

They were halfway through their third drink when Kellin felt it, a  shift in the room. Kellin turned instinctively, eyes scanning the crowd near the entrance, then he saw him with the same calm aura, Vic was moving through the crowd like a shadow that knew it didn’t need to rush. The room hadn’t gone silent, but something had quieted. Like even the music was making room for him, but it wasn’t just Vic that turned Kellin’s blood cold. It was who was walking beside him.

A man, human by scent. Late twenties or early thirties, he had pale skin and black hair that curled behind his ears, a long trench coat that looked more stylish than practical. He had a messenger bag slung across his shoulder. Gerard Way. Gerard was something else entirely, he was an occultist and creator online. A man who made his living studying things most humans never dared to never cross into when it comes to the supernatural. Kellin’s heard of some of the people he’s been around. He’s gotten with his packmates in the past. He didn’t flinch when Vic whispered something to him. He smiled . Kellin’s gut twisted.

Justin followed his gaze and let out a quiet, “Huh.”

Kellin didn’t respond. Just stared for a moment too long.

“You okay?” Justin asked.

“Fine.”

“That’s Gerard Way, right?” Justin said. “He’s the guy who wrote that book about the cults in Nevada, right? What’s he doing here, with Vic?”

“I don’t know, why would I know?” Kellin muttered.

“You know him?”

“No.”

But he knew enough. Enough to make his jaw tighten at the sight of him standing so comfortably next to Vic. Enough to make his pulse stutter when he saw the easy way Vic touched Gerard’s arm while they moved through the room. They weren’t acting like strangers, and that was the problem. Kellin didn’t know what they were, he hated that he noticed it at all . He turned away from the bar, motioning for another drink with a flick of his fingers.

Justin raised an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t wanna just talk to him?”

“Nope.”

“You’re acting like you saw your ex.”

Kellin shot him a look. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“I’m funnier when you’re not brooding,” Justin said, sipping his drink. “Just saying.”

Kellin said nothing.

He didn’t owe Vic anything. Whatever that kiss had been, whatever that night on the floor meant, it was a blur, a one-off, a mistake. It had to be. So why did it suddenly feel like his lungs had stopped working the second Vic looked like he was enjoying someone else’s company? Why did the drink he was holding suddenly feel so useless? The moment Kellin saw Vic and Gerard laughing together at the front booth, something sour curdled in his gut. His drink stopped tasting like anything, and he stood up without a word. Justin didn’t ask questions, just followed him down the back hallway, through the velvet curtain that led to the Red Rooms. The lounge was soaked in red light and low fog, the air thick with perfume, incense, and expensive distractions. It was quieter here, private, tucked away for people who wanted to disappear for a while, and supernatural who needed space to be less careful. They slipped into a booth in the corner. 

Justin leaned back, exhaled. “You good?”

“Nope,” Kellin muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated, then reached into his jacket pocket. A small glass vial slid out, clinking softly.

Justin blinked. “Didn’t know you were bringing anything tonight.”

“I didn’t either.” Kellin unscrewed the cap with a practiced flick. “It was in my coat pocket from last week. Guess I forgot.”

“Accidental coke is wild, man.”

Kellin gave a sharp, humorless grin. “So is running into your mistake and some eldritch human scholar in a supernatural club.”

Justin laughed under his breath. “Fair enough.”

Kellin tapped a bump out onto the back of his hand, leaned in, and sniffed it in quick. The burn hit fast. It was clean, and clarifying. He sat back, blinking hard as it lit his brain like a match dropped in gasoline.

Justin followed suit, wiping his nose and nodding with that tight-lipped “oh yeah” expression coke brought out of everyone eventually.

“You wanna talk about it now?” Justin asked, leaning on his elbows.

“No,” Kellin said, already fidgeting, already sharper around the edges. “I just don’t want to think about it.”

Justin didn’t push. 

“I mean, it’s not like I care,” Kellin said suddenly. “He can hang out with whoever he wants. That guy’s human. Probably thinks he’s cool for knowing vampires.”

Justin gave a half-smile. “I hear he has a fetish.”

“He’s just so comfortable,” Kellin went on, jaw tight. “Like Vic brings him here all the time. Like it’s a thing.”

“You jealous?”

“No.” Kellin paused. “Vic doesn’t even look at me like that. He just let me leave, he didn’t even move. I’m sure there’s no way he didn’t wake up with me stumbling around like I did.” Kellin rambled.

“You also left him on read.”

Kellin wiped his nose and looked away. “Yeah, well. That’s different.”

“Sure.”

A group of witches passed by the booth, laughing too loudly, trailing glittery magic and cigarette smoke. Kellin tapped out another bump and sat back, jaw tight.

“Just once,” he muttered, “I want someone to stay.”

Justin didn’t say anything.

And through the slit in the curtain, Kellin saw Vic tilt his head and look over right at him. Kellin blinked. The coke buzz thrummed in his jaw. Vic was looking at him. Not just glancing. Looking through the thin slit in the curtain, Vic’s gaze locked on Kellin’s and his eyes were angry. There was no trace of the kind Vic from last night, bundled under a blanket on the floor. Just the vampire and his natural stupid fucking smug face. A slow, deliberate smirk curled at the corner of Vic’s mouth. No teeth. No malice. Kellin’s heart kicked hard enough that he felt it in his throat. Vic leaned toward Gerard casually and said something that Kellin couldn’t hear. And then, without breaking eye contact with Kellin, he kissed the human. He just leaned in and pressed his mouth to Gerard’s, slow, intimate, and effortless. Like they’d done it a hundred times before.

Gerard smiled into it and Kellin stopped breathing. His blood turned to static. The red light felt hotter, his skin too tight, that thump-thump-thump in the walls of the club turned cruel and arrhythmic in his ears.

Justin leaned forward, suddenly aware something was happening. “Yo. What-?”

Kellin stood up, fast, too fast. He bumped the table hard enough to slosh the drinks. The glass vial tipped, caught in Justin’s hand at the last second. “Where are you-?” 

“Bathroom,” Kellin said, already walking away. The bass followed him outside like it didn’t want to let go.

Kellin shoved open the back door of Eclipse, stepping into a narrow alleyway lit by the dull orange glow of a flickering streetlamp. The night was warm, San Diego never really cooled down in July, but the sweat cooling on his skin made the air feel sharp. He stood still for a second, just breathing, one hand against the wall. His jaw was tight, his pulse still racing. The coke hadn’t worn off. It was screaming through him, sending electricity behind his teeth and a numb ache at the base of his skull. The image of Vic leaning in and kissing Gerard like it was easy, he was acting Kellin hadn’t curled into him the night before, drunk, tired, stupid, and feeling… safe.

He swallowed hard, but the feeling in his throat didn’t go down.

His fingers twitched. Part of him wanted to punch the wall. Another part wanted to vanish completely. He wanted to run until the city was a blur and the feelings couldn’t keep up. Instead, he leaned back against the wall and stared up at the sliver of moonlight between the buildings.

"Stupid," he muttered aloud.

The air smelled like ash, sour beer, and faint old blood. Not Vic’s scent. Not quite. That was fainter now, it was washed away in red lighting and distraction. He tugged at the collar of his shirt like it was choking him, like something inside was pressing up, trying to claw its way out.

Jealousy. Humiliation. Longing. He hated it. He hated that he didn’t hate Vic.

A voice echoed in his head, his mom’s, sharp with suspicion, her nose wrinkled in disgust: " You smell like leech.”

Yeah. He still did.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out with shaking fingers. It wasn’t Vic. Kellin closed his eyes and tucked the phone away again. He didn’t want Justin checking up on him. He wanted… He didn’t even know what he wanted.

Maybe to scream. Maybe for Vic to come outside. Maybe for the night to rewind itself back to the moment before he ever walked into that damn club. He felt like a kicked puppy.

Kellin’s back scraped against the wall as he slid down fully, until he was sitting on the filthy concrete with his knees pulled tightly to his chest. His boots scraped against the alley gravel, he couldn’t breathe right. It was like his chest was wrapped in steel wire, cinched tighter with every heartbeat. He tried to inhale, but it felt shallow, like oxygen wasn’t reaching where it needed to go. His vision was too bright in some places and too dark in others, like the shadows were creeping in on him, slicing through the neon glow spilling from the Eclipse sign overhead. He pressed his palms hard to his face. The pressure helped a little.

His thoughts were screaming.

You shouldn’t have stayed under that blanket.

What were you thinking, letting him hold you like that?

What did you expect? That he’d wake you up with a smile and a fucking kiss?

His mouth twitched. His lip curled. 

Why did he even go to the club?

He should’ve stayed home because now all he could see, burned into his memory like a brand, was Vic’s smirk. Kellin hated himself for it.

“I’m such a goddamn idiot,” he whispered into his hands, his voice cracking. “So fucking stupid…”

He wasn’t supposed to be this soft. He was a werewolf, born for blood, survival, loyalty, and strength. Not this aching, hollow thing wrapped in someone else’s scent. He just felt small and overexposed. 

It was his fault, he’d wanted it. God, he’d wanted to be wanted. Just for a night. He wanted to not feel like a threat, to not be a disappointment to his family, to the pack, to his own damn self. He wanted to just be warm beside someone who made the world quieter, even if only until morning.

But morning had come, and Vic had let him go. Just sent him a text he still hadn’t answered, and now he was kissing someone else like Kellin had never even happened.

He squeezed his eyes shut and choked down a broken sound that might’ve been a sob, but he bit it in half before it could escape. His hands trembled where they gripped his knees, knuckles white. He didn’t cry, he couldn’t. Crying was a weakness and weakness was danger. He sat there, shaking, teeth grit, fighting the burn behind his eyes as the coke turned sour in his blood, amplifying every anxious heartbeat until it felt like a countdown to something ugly.

Maybe he deserved this? Maybe this was what he got for betraying what he was. He was such an animal. It’s karma for forgetting what Vic was, and honestly his teeth won’t let Kellin go. His mother’s words played in the back of his mind. “They feed off of us, Kellin. Don’t you ever mistake their charm for care.”

He couldn’t tell if it was shame or heartbreak that was suffocating him. He wasn’t even sure there was a difference anymore.

Kellin stayed slumped in the alley for what felt like hours. The club door opened and closed behind him a few times, waves of laughter, chatter, and the steady pulse of bass spilling out and getting sucked back in like the place was breathing without him.

He didn't want to go back inside. Not with them in there, not with Vic kissing someone else like it didn’t matter, like he didn’t matter. The coke in his veins twisted. His body felt like static, his mouth dry and bitter with resentment. 

He stood up fast, and left with no destination. He just walked.

Fast, angry strides down the street, through glowing puddles of red light and late-night neon, until Eclipse was behind him and the only sound was his boots slapping the sidewalk and his own thoughts buzzing like hornets in his skull. He needed to get out of his head, needed someone to rip the noise out of him, even if it was only for a night. It was nearly 2 a.m. when he found the other bar, and she found him. A gorgeous woman stood leaning against the wall near the jukebox in a short black dress, wearing boots that could kick out teeth and fishnet that turned him on. She had eyes the color of lightning. She watched him for a beat too long, like she already knew he was spiraling, like she could smell it.

"You look like hell," she said smoothly, stepping into his space like she owned it.

"I feel worse," Kellin muttered, eyes flicking up to hers.

"You wanna feel nothing instead?"

The question hung there. Temptation.

"What's your name?" he asked.

She smirked. "Does it matter?"

No. It really didn’t.

She took his hand, her skin was warm, her nails were painted black. There were sigils inked on her wrist, some glowing faintly under the bar’s UV light. She tugged him away from the music, out into the street again, toward somewhere else. They didn’t talk much. She didn’t ask questions, and he didn’t offer answers. They got to her place, an upstairs studio with old candles burning in wine bottles and dried herbs strung above the window. The air smelled like cinnamon, clove, and just a trace of blood. It was quiet here, which made the buzzing in Kellin’s head more aggressive. She handed him a glass of something that tasted like smoke and roses, and he drank it too fast. She lit a candle with a word and a flick of her finger, and when she kissed him, it was deep, drugged, absolutely devoid of emotion, and that was exactly what he needed.

He didn’t need Vic’s soft voice and blankets on the floor, or stupid, honest closeness that meant something. Just this, heat and distraction. A mouth that didn't care.

Kellin let her pull him down onto the mattress on the floor, let her straddle him and scratch down his chest, let her draw something strange on his shoulder with her finger, a charm, maybe, or a curse. He didn’t ask. He didn’t care.

He wasn’t Kellin here. Not really.

He was just a body in a room with someone else who could take charge for a bit.

And for one night, that was enough, or at least it was supposed to be.

But even as the candlelight flickered and the world slipped away, the thought of Vic’s smirk still burned in the hollow of his chest. Kellin hated himself for how bad he still wanted to go back. He’s been making so many mistakes recently. What’s one more?

The next morning Kellin woke up slowly, like someone dragging him out of a dream with claws instead of hands. His head pounded as he glanced around the room. There was the faint taste of whatever bitter liquor the witch girl had poured down his throat, mixing with the dull ache in his chest that hadn’t disappeared, not even in sleep. The room was quiet. Sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains, painting the dusty air in soft gold, her candles had burned down to wax puddles. In the corner, a charm made of bones and crow feathers swayed lazily in the breeze of an open window. She was gone, not a trace of her in the bed beside him, just the imprint of her body and the faint clinging hum of warding magic in the sheets.

Kellin sat up with a groan, rubbing his eyes hard with the heels of his hands. His heart still felt weird, like last night had bruised something deeper than just his ego.

His phone buzzed on the floor near his jeans. For a moment, he stared at it like it might bite, then he picked it up regretfully.

Vic:

So... u just gonna keep pretending like you don’t give a shit? Did you like what you saw?

Not sure what you were expecting after ghosting me. but hey, real smooth disappearing act, wolfboy.

u always run off when things get real or just when it’s me?

Kellin’s thumb hovered over the screen. He reread it three times before locking the phone again, jaw tight. He had no idea how to respond, because Vic was right.

Chapter Text

The bell chimed with a sound sharp, eerie, undeniably magical. Kellin shoved his notebook into his bag with a sigh and stood up, rolling his shoulders as students began to file out of the classroom around him. The walls of the lecture hall buzzed faintly with glamour wards and overhead fluorescent lights flickered with a frequency tuned for fae eyes, too fast for humans to notice, but hell on werewolf nerves.

Professor Thistlewing fluttered down from her hovering perch in the ceiling rafters, her wings shimmering gold and chartreuse in the artificial light. She landed lightly on her oversized oak desk, barely taller than the stack of graded essays she had just slammed down. “Reminder,” she chirped, voice high and sickly sweet, “your comparative analysis is due Friday. I expect footnotes. And soul. Preferably in that order. You are dismissed!”

A groan passed through the class. Someone muttered a curse in Trollish. A dryad two rows down from Kellin let her head thunk onto her desk with a soft grunt. Kellin nodded out of habit and slipped out the side door. He walked fast. Not because he was in a hurry, but because he needed the movement. Something about the rhythm of walking kept the bad thoughts at bay. Usually.

Today, not so much.

Three days.

It had been three days since Vic’s message. Three days since Kellin had read it, felt it like a sucker punch to the chest, and done exactly nothing. No reply. No explanation. Not even a petty emoji to acknowledge it. Just silence. He’d told himself that was better. That it was cleaner not to engage. That whatever Vic was playing at when smirking and kissing Gerard meant nothing, he was just trying to piss him off like he always does. Kellin told him drunk and slurring that he liked kissing him, and now he’s playing a game with him. Like his mom said vampires always do.

But still. He kept checking his phone. Like some part of him expected another message. A follow-up, An apology, A fight. Anything.

Instead, nothing. Just that one text.

So... u just keep pretending you don’t give a shit? Did you like what you saw?

Not sure what you were expecting after ghosting me. but hey, real smooth disappearing act, wolfboy.

u always run off when things get real or just when it’s me?

It echoed in his head now as he stepped out into the sunlight of the quad. The heat was dry, laced with eucalyptus from the enchanted garden near the library. Somewhere nearby, a group of nymphs were playing enchanted frisbee and arguing. Kellin walked to the edge of the fountain and sat on the warm stone lip, rubbing his temple. God, he was tired.

His next class wasn’t for two more hours, but the dread was already curling in his stomach. Human Biology. And unfortunately, that class also meant seeing Vic.

They were assigned lab partners for the semester. Vic had rolled his eyes the day it happened, muttering, “Of course.”

Now, Kellin couldn’t even think about that class without remembering Vic’s fingers brushing his when they passed the scalpel, or the way his brow furrowed when he actually focused on something.

Kellin shook his head hard.

Nope.

He wasn’t doing this. Not right now.

He still wasn’t even sure what the hell *had* happened that night. The coke had made everything blurry. Vic’s smirk. Gerard’s lips. That spark of something ugly and hot in his chest, was it jealousy? Regret? Both? Then the alley, the panic, the spiral, and the witch. Her name might’ve been Lara. Or Lana? He hadn’t asked and really hadn’t wanted to know. All he remembered now was her eyes and a taste of something metallic and sweet in her kiss.

He hadn’t really forgotten that night as much as he tried. Not with Vic’s message waiting for him the next morning.

God, he was an asshole.

He pulled out his phone again. The message was still there. Still unread, technically, since he’d never opened it on iMessage. But he’d seen it in the preview. Memorized every line. Being left on delivered is less painful than being left on read, right? 

What the hell was he supposed to say?

He stared at the screen until it dimmed.

Eventually, the time came to head to Bio. Kellin slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way down the corridor toward Room 4B. The halls had thinned out, the chatter faded, and now only the buzz of vending machines and distant footsteps echoed around him.

As he rounded the last corner, he saw Vic.

He was leaning against the wall just outside the classroom door, arms crossed, earbuds in. His head was tilted back like he was bored, or exhausted, or both. His grey hoodie was half-zipped, and a strand of hair curled against his cheekbone.

Kellin froze for just a second, just long enough for Vic to glance up.

Their eyes met. Neither of them said anything.

Vic raised an eyebrow just barely, and pulled out one earbud. He didn’t smirk, or roll his eyes. He just looked at Kellin, like he was trying to read him. Kellin didn’t know what to expect.

Kellin swallowed hard and nodded.

Vic turned and walked into the classroom without a word.

Kellin followed a few beats later and chose the seat directly in front of Vic’s, as he always did.

Dr. Chalmers, who looked like he’d been exhumed from a battlefield but wore a tailored vest and smelled faintly of formaldehyde and cinnamon, was already arranging models on the front table.

“Seats,” Chalmers rasped. “Today we continue our unit on human prenatal development. A fascinating biological process that some of you may one day replicate… preferably with consent and functional genetics.”

A few scattered laughs. Someone made a vampire joke under their breath, Dr. Chalmers ignored it. “Open your textbooks to chapter seven. Embryogenesis. We'll be comparing the first trimester of human fetal development to supernatural analogs in werewolves, vampires, and fae. Try not to faint.”

Kellin slid into his seat, he could feel Vic behind him as he opened his book. His hands trembled. Kellin wasn’t ready to be around Vic and yet, there he was sitting one seat in front of him, textbook open, pen in hand, skin prickling like it was crawling away from his bones.

He could feel it, the biter’s- Vic’s eyes on the back of his neck. Not even like a full stare. It was subtler than that. A flicker, a pulse, like heat from a fire behind him, too far to burn but close enough to make him sweat.

Kellin forced himself to look at the page in front of him. The words swam, diagrams of tiny forming spines, and developing hearts blurred into unrecognizable clusters. He blinked hard, his jaw clenched and unclenched.

He scratched down a note, something about blastocysts. His pen trembled. Behind him, Vic shifted. A quiet scoff, barely audible- curled in the air between them. Kellin gripped the pen tighter. The blood in his ears was so loud he barely heard Dr. Chalmers droning about uterine linings and placental implantation. He could still feel Vic’s gaze, sharp as glass, slicing into the side of his face. Eventually someone would ask questions. He hated the idea of Vic thinking he was weak.

But God, he *was* weak right now.

The withdrawals had hit like a freight train the second he’d woke up, he had no more coke. No more ampoule cocktails from sketchy witches. No more anything to blur the edges. His mother had threatened to pull his tuition, so he was currently going cold turkey.

Just Kellin.

Raw. Sober. And unraveling.

His skin itched under his hoodie and his mouth was dry. Every sound was louder, every smell more invasive. The antiseptic scent of the classroom mingled with the tang of Vic’s cologne and shampoo, it was driving him insane. His chest tightened. His foot bounced.

He scratched another word down on his page. "Zygote." 

Breathe.

He shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other, then uncrossing. His knee knocked the underside of the desk. Vic didn’t say anything. But Kellin felt it, that flicker of amusement, of smugness, behind him. He shut his eyes for half a second. Don’t spiral. Not here.

But the thoughts came anyway.

He kissed Gerard like it didn’t mean a thing, so maybe it didn’t. Maybe Kellin’s kiss hadn’t either. Maybe none of it was anything. Vic was just playing him, because Kellin was just easy to play, he seems to fall into the hands of abusers like a lost mutt. His stomach twisted and he shifted again, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. The coppery tang grounded him. Barely.

Behind him, he swore he heard Vic sigh. A slow, deliberate exhale.

Not a word had been said. Not a single word. And yet, Kellin was unraveling by the minute.

He wanted to get up because he so desperately wanted to leave. But he couldn’t move. So instead, he sat there, trembling, taking notes he couldn’t read, with his goddamn feelings looming behind him in the shape of Vic Fuentes.And class wasn’t even half over.

Suddenly, there was a nudge, a gentle tap against the leg of his chair. Not hard, just enough to jolt Kellin out of his frantic scribbling and make his breath catch.

He froze.

Another nudge, it was more deliberate this time. He didn’t turn around, Vic, the bastard was kicking his chair. Kellin swallowed hard and slowly turned his head just enough to see Vic out of the corner of his eye.

The vampire wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t smiling. He was staring. Eyes narrowed, brow furrowed in that specific way that meant he was angry, but keeping it cool. Vic had perfected that look. The calm, quiet kind of mad, the worst kind that in the past ended with both of them in the hospital.

Their eyes met for just a second. Kellin felt heat surge up his neck, all the way to his ears, and his stomach twisted painfully. He hadn’t answered the text. He hadn’t said anything. And now Vic was staring at him.

Kellin quickly looked away. His pen moved again, scrawling something meaningless across the page. He couldn’t focus, his heart thudded violently in his chest. His hands felt clammy.

He could feel Vic still staring.

Every inch of him screamed to say something, to turn around, to whisper an apology, or even just a sarcastic comment to defuse the tension. Instead, he squirmed.

Shifted in his seat like he could shake off the weight of Vic’s stare, like he could ignore the buzzing under his skin, the ache in his bones, the screaming hunger in his blood for everything he’d been trying to quit, and for the one person who kept showing up in all the wrong ways.

He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to talk. He wasn’t ready to feel.

So he sat there, breath shallow, notes forgotten, guilt crawling up his spine like vines. He let the silence between them stretch taut like string about to snap.

Vic didn’t kick the chair again. He didn’t need to, the message had already landed and Vic knew that.

The rest of class dragged like molasses through glass. Kellin barely registered Dr. Chalmers' droning voice as the zombie professor described the process of ossification in fetal development. The diagrams on the screen blurred together, all Kellin could think about was the kick. The weight of Vic’s stare pressing between his shoulder blades like a curse. His body itched with discomfort and every breath felt too loud in his own ears. When the class finally ended, Kellin shot up from his seat too fast. His chair scraped against the linoleum floor, and a few students glanced over. He ignored them, shoved his notebook into his bag, and bolted for the door before Vic could say anything, or not say anything.

He hit the hallway like it was a finish line. The air felt cooler, less stale. But it didn’t help. He was still buzzing under his skin, still aching from everything he didn’t say. He didn’t even realize he’d stopped walking until he heard the door behind him click open again.

Footsteps. Slow and deliberate.

Kellin didn’t turn around, but he didn’t move forward either.

Vic.

He didn’t need to look to know it was him.

He could hear the way Vic walked, he was confident, quiet, composed. It made his own heart pound louder in his chest.

There was a stretch of silence between them, heavy and brittle. Other students passed them in the hallway, chatting or laughing, completely unaware of the way time had seemed to freeze for Kellin.

“Bathroom. Now.” was the only thing Vic said. The couple of footsteps to the bathroom caused Kellin to black out. Vic was there, leaning against the sink, arms crossed, eyes dark and terrifyingly sexy.

“You ignored me,” Vic said, voice low, but laced with hurt, frustration, anger all tangled in one.

Kellin swallowed hard. He wanted to explain, to apologize, but the words stuck in his throat like thorns.

“You kissed Gerard,” Kellin finally said, his voice rough, barely above a whisper. “And then you stared at me like... like I was supposed to be okay with that-.”

Vic’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking over Kellin. “Yeah. And? What, it turn you on? or are you hurt? What, Quinn?”

Kellin was silent, and Vic continued. His voice was desperate and filled with anger, it made Kellin’s heart pound. “We aren’t a fucking thing, you have your issues with me being a vampire that you can’t seem to fucking resolve.”

“Like a month and a half ago, I think-” He pulled his phone out mid sentence, unlocking it and showing Kellin’s own text thread to Vic. “You busted Jaime’s nose for even stepping foot on your property. Two weeks ago, you’re kissing me on his fucking bathroom floor. A week ago, you kiss me again despite claiming to hate me, somehow show up to my apartment, and then completely fucking ghost me? And you leave me on read?”

The tension snapped like a live wire between them. Kellin’s breath hitched, his pulse thundering as he stepped closer, the space between them shrinking until it was nothing.

“You don’t get to just do that,” Kellin said, voice cracking with the weight of everything bottled up, the confusion, the anger, the raw, aching need.

Vic’s eyes softened, just for a flicker, before a smirk tugged at his lips. “So, what? We aren't a thing. You hate me, right?”

Kellin didn’t answer. Instead, his hands reached out, trembling, to pull Vic closer.

The kiss was messy from the start, rough and desperate, full of all the things they hadn’t said and the feelings they’d tried to bury. Lips pressed hard, teeth grazing, hands tangling in hair and scrabbling for skin beneath hoodies and shirts.

Vic’s hands found Kellin’s waist, fingers digging in as if holding on could keep them both from falling apart. Kellin’s fingers traced the sharp line of Vic’s jaw, memorizing the heat, the softness, the sharp edges.

Their breaths mingled, every inch of them screamed, aching, hungry for more, their bodies claiming the space between them.

When they finally broke apart, gasping, foreheads resting against each other, Kellin’s heart was racing, raw and exposed, Vic could hear it. Kellin’s voice was barely audible as he spoke. “Don’t think this makes us something other than rivals.” 

Vic could only nod.

“Your place. Please.” Kellin mumbled, before pressing his lips to Vic’s again. Vic fangs brushed against his bottom lip, and he shivered and fluttered. He didn’t know if Vic could tell how dizzy he made him. 

“You tolerate me that much?” Vic said against Kellin’s lips, and the noise Kellin made was primal. Vic bit down harshly on Kellin’s bottom lip as they kissed a third time, fangs puncturing skin immediately, the metallic taste of Kellin’s own blood caused his eyes to roll back as he gasped. He was so overstimulated from the withdrawals already, this was surely going to make him explode. His hand instinctively slid up to Vic’s neck, his hand landing in the familiar spot on the vampire’s jugular, his fingers brushed against previous scars he caused from his claws digging into the same spot they are now. The feeling of blood dripping down his hands made him feel less weak, and the noise Vic made his heart flutter again.

Blood dripped down his chin as he pulled away, it was bleeding pretty well. His lips were deeply bruised and swollen as he touched his fingers to his chin. “You bit me so hard- What the fuck?”

“Had to make it look like we got into a fight, Quinn. Remember, we hate each other.” The smirk on Vic’s face as he spoke made him want to punch the vampire seriously this time. The vampire licked his lips, Kellin noticed the slight shiver that went up his spine. Kellin’s hand twitched as he immediately rubbed his neck. “It’s okay Quinn, I’m into the feeling of wolf nails.”

Kellin could’ve fainted right then and there. His head began to spin again as Vic spoke a third time. “You seemed to like it when I bit you anyways.. My place?” 

Kellin could only nod this time. Vic left the bathroom first, and Kellin after a few minutes stumbled after him, he appreciated that Vic respected that the public still thinks they are rivals. Well, that’s what Kellin is trying to convince himself that they are, they’re just rivals with benefits, that’s surely a thing that’s happened before. 

Kellin barely made it three steps out of the bathroom before he had to lean against the wall. His fingers trembled as he dabbed at his bottom lip with his sleeve, his hoodie already stained with blood. The cold air of the hallway hit him like a slap, and for a second, the world tilted. He blinked hard, jaw clenched, trying to will his pulse back into something resembling normal.

Just walk. Just get out of the building. Just breathe.

But of course, fate hated him.

“Kellin?”

He flinched.

Justin stood there at the end of the hallway, bag slung over one shoulder, brows knitting as he took in the sight of him. Kellin tried to straighten up, but it was too late. Justin was already jogging over, eyes wide, expression caught somewhere between alarm and disbelief.

“Holy shit, bro, what happened to you?”

“I’m- fine,” Kellin said quickly, voice muffled. He pressed his sleeve harder to his lip. It didn’t help. Blood was still trailing down his chin in slow, steady rivulets, his mouth swollen and split. The bruising was already blooming in deep purples beneath his skin.

Justin looked like he was about to lose it. “You look like you got mauled. Who did this? Was it Vic? Tell me it wasn’t fucking Vic-”

“No, no.” Kellin shook his head too fast. “It’s not like that.”

Justin blinked. “Then what is it like? You look like you just lost a bar fight with a banshee.”

Kellin opened his mouth, then closed it. The sting in his lip was unbearable, but worse was the heat creeping up his neck. How the hell was he supposed to explain that he’d just been kissing Vic so hard he bled? That his legs were still weak from the vampire’s hands and mouth and that he’d practically begged to go home with him?

“I don’t know,” Kellin mumbled eventually, turning his head away. “Some guy bumped into me in the hall. Claws. I wasn’t looking.”

Justin stared at him for a long moment.

“You’re a bad liar,” he said, softer now. “And you look high as shit.”

Kellin’s stomach twisted. “I’m not.”

Justin frowned. “Then you’re withdrawing. You’re sweating, and your pupils are huge. Your hands are shaking, man.”

Kellin didn’t respond. He just ran a hand through his hair and tried not to throw up, cry, or do anything that would make this worse.

Justin sighed, then stepped a little closer, gentler now. “Do you need me to take you home?”

Kellin hesitated. “No. I’m... I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Justin looked like he wanted to argue, but eventually nodded. “Alright. But Kellin, whatever you’re doing, whoever you’re with, be careful, okay?”

Kellin nodded, throat tight. He couldn’t look him in the eye, by the time Justin turned and walked away, Kellin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He pulled his hoodie up, tucked his chin low, and headed for the back stairwell. He wasn’t sure if he was more ashamed of the kiss or how badly he wanted more.

Vic was already laid up on his couch when Kellin stumbled into the vampire’s apartment like his name was on the lease. The door slammed shut behind Kellin with a low, ominous thunk. Vic didn’t even lock it. He just turned, slow, like a predator circling, his eyes gleaming with the kind of hunger Kellin recognized too well.

The apartment smelled like cigarettes and something darker, like blood steeped in old wine. He wasn’t sure who moved first. Maybe it was both of them at once. But suddenly Vic was there- chest to chest, hand curling in Kellin’s hoodie, yanking him forward.

Their mouths collided like a car crash.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t gentle. It was teeth and breath and spit, Kellin’s already-split lip tearing open again as Vic licked into his mouth, greedy and unrepentant. Kellin groaned, grabbing fistfuls of Vic’s shirt, dragging him impossibly closer.

Vic’s hands found Kellin’s jaw, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise as he angled his face to bite at his throat, trailing down to the space where the hoodie met skin. Kellin gasped, hips bucking forward involuntarily.

“You’re so loud when you want something,” Vic muttered against his skin. “Why don’t you ever say it?”

“I hate you,” Kellin hissed back, but it sounded too much like a moan. His voice cracked on the last word, and he didn’t even believe it himself.

Vic laughed, a low, breathy sound, and then shoved Kellin backward, stumbling until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the couch.

They collapsed onto it in a tangle of limbs, Kellin landing hard with Vic on top of him, kissing him again, messier this time. Their mouths barely left each other’s. Vic’s thigh pressed between Kellin’s legs and he nearly choked on a groan.

“You taste like blood,” Vic whispered. “You taste so fucking good.”

Kellin rolled them roughly, straddling him now, gripping Vic’s collar like it could anchor him to something solid. He was shaking, not just from the withdrawal, but from the way this felt like setting fire to everything he’d been trying to bury.

“You want to toy with me?” Vic asked, voice rough. “Is that what this is?”

Kellin’s eyes brushed over Vic, he murmured softly. His hand reached up to wrap gently around Vic’s throat, he could feel the throb of Vic’s pulse under his fingers. “I don’t know what I want. I don’t know how you got into me.”

Vic’s hand slid under his hoodie, cold fingers splaying over heated skin. “I want to ruin you.”

“You already did,” Kellin whispered.

They froze for a beat, breathing ragged, lips inches apart. The words hung in the air, sharp and broken and terrifyingly true.

Vic shook his head, laughing softly. “But this means nothing, right?”

Kellin’s chest ached. “I just… want you in the most unromantic of ways.”

Vic’s hands tightened at Kellin’s waist. “Then let me do it right.”

The next kiss was slower, but no less intense. Vic’s tongue slid over Kellin’s lip, tasting the blood he’d drawn. Their noses bumped, their teeth clicked. Kellin was unraveling and Vic could feel every string snapping, every wall coming down in pieces. Kellin’s hands dug into Vic’s shoulders. He wanted to hurt and be hurt, to be devoured and worshipped and hated and loved, anything but ignored.

“I’m not yours,” he mumbled, panting into Vic’s mouth.

Vic dragged his nails down Kellin’s back. “No,” he agreed. “But you keep coming back like you are.”

Kellin’s breath caught and then he pulled away as the realization dawned on him. “I’ve never seen you get with dudes..”

“I’ve never actually been with any people that have dicks. Besides kissing Gerard, now you.” 

That confession hung between the two, slicing through the tension. Kellin snickered, “So Vic Fuentes is a virgin?”

“What-? No, I’ve fucked plenty of girls.”

"I forgot, you're straight." Kellin pointed out in a contemptuous tone. "You don't know what you're missing. The thrill of being with a man who knows what buttons to push.. Once you try it, you’ll crave it."

Vic’s eyes darkened, his eyes almost glassed over as he frowned. He analyzed Kellin’s face before asking, “Are you high?”

Kellin shook his head. “I’m actually extremely sober.”

Vic raised an eyebrow, and Kellin squirmed as he stared. He spoke gently, his voice made Kellin ache. “Are you withdrawing? I can hear your heartbeat, you know. You don’t sound good.”

Vic’s gaze sharpened as he studied Kellin. “You’re not okay,” he continued, voice low. “You’re sweating through your hoodie, your hands won’t stop shaking, and your heart rate is off the charts.”

Kellin looked away, jaw tight, trying to pull back. Vic didn’t let him. One cool hand pressed gently to the back of Kellin’s neck, grounding him.

“I said I’m fine,” Kellin muttered, voice thinner now, less certain.

“You’re not.” Vic’s voice was softer than Kellin had ever heard it, gentle, but firm. “You’re withdrawing.”

Kellin’s face twitched, a quiet kind of defeat setting in around his eyes. “Yeah,” he admitted after a beat, like the word cost hm.

Vic exhaled, something tense uncoiling in his chest. He guided Kellin back slowly, away from his lap, helping him sit upright. The loss of contact felt like a slap, but Vic wasn’t pushing him away cruelly. His fingers lingered on Kellin’s wrist, holding just enough to say I’m still here.

“We shouldn’t keep doing this. Not when you’re like this.”

Kellin flinched, but he didn’t argue.

Vic continued, quieter, “I wanted it too. But this- right now- it’s not really you, is it?”

Kellin dragged a hand down his face, visibly trembling now. “It’s me,” he rasped, but the tears in his eyes betrayed him. “It’s me and I don’t know what I want.”

Vic didn’t look away.

“Then let’s not figure it out like this,” he said. “You need sleep, water, and a night without someone biting you.”

Kellin blinked at him, surprised by the softness in those words.

Vic stood, disappeared for a moment, and came back with a glass of water and a blanket from the back of the couch. He handed both to Kellin without a word.

Kellin took them, clutching the glass like it was the only solid thing left in the world.

Vic sat back beside him, close but not touching now. “You can crash here. I’ll stay out of your space. Just… don’t go home like this. Don’t be alone.”

Kellin stared at him, really stared, as if seeing him for the first time. The vampire who smirked in class, who kissed like violence and art, who gave him kindness when he felt most hollow.

“Why are you being nice to me? I fucking hate it. I’m literally using you.” Kellin asked, voice breaking.

Vic gave a tired, almost broken smile. “Because I’ve been where you are. And Tony and Jaime once stayed with me when I didn’t deserve it.”

Kellin’s throat tightened. He didn’t respond. He just curled under the blanket, glass of water untouched for now, and sat in the quiet while Vic dimmed the lights and left him alone on the couch.

Kellin's lips curved into a devilish smirk, cocking his head to the side as he called out. “If you change your mind, I'd love to help you explore."

"What makes you think I'll bottom for anyone?" Vic served him a straightforward, arrogant reply from the bedroom.

Kellin grinned, and closed his eyes. “From experience I can't imagine you as a top."

“Shut the fuck up and rest, Kells.”

For once, Kellin let himself breathe, and he didn’t complain about the nickname either.

Chapter Text

Vic didn’t remember falling asleep.

But when he blinked awake, it was just after 3 a.m., and the apartment was still. His room was dark, the curtains drawn, moonlight cutting pale silver bars across the hardwood. The walls felt closer than usual. He hadn’t even changed out of his hoodie. Kellin was still out there, curled up on his couch, wrecked from withdrawal. Vic had gotten up maybe twenty minutes ago, tucked a fresh blanket over him, refilled the water glass. Kellin hadn’t stirred. Now Vic was flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. His phone lit up on the pillow beside him, screen casting a dim glow in the dark.

Gerard:

Are you up? Want to hang out?

👀 maybe more?

He exhaled slowly through his nose, rubbing the heel of his palm into his tired eyes.

He should’ve expected it.

Gerard has been tactile, flirty in that too-cool-to-care way that made people melt. They never made promises, never asked for more than a night, or a few hours, or a bite on the neck that he always claimed he “didn’t hate.”

Vic’s thumb hovered over the message, not replying yet.

He glanced toward the closed door, he could hear Kellin’s heartbeat through it. Not that he wanted to. Not when the last time they touched, it had ended in blood, vulnerability, and a kiss that left Vic’s mouth bruised.

Gerard was easy. Kellin was not.

Vic chewed the inside of his cheek and finally tossed the phone aside onto the nightstand with a soft thud. He dragged a hand down his face and laid back again, willing his body to relax.

But all he could feel was Kellin’s skin under his fingers.

All he could hear was the way Kellin’s voice cracked when he said he didn’t know what he wanted.

The shadows in his room felt too loud. The silence, too thick.

Vic rolled onto his side, fingers twitching toward his phone again. The screen was still glowing softly, Gerard’s message sitting there like an open door.

👀 maybe more?

His jaw clenched.

He hadn’t responded for nearly ten minutes. That usually sends a message. 

Vic stood up and crossed the room in three steps. He didn’t even look in the mirror as he shrugged on his jacket. His hair was a mess, his eyes sunken. He didn’t care. The cold breeze from his cracked bedroom window whispered against his neck like guilt, but he ignored it.

He texted one word: coming

There was no need to say more.

Gerard lived across the city in an old converted warehouse near Barrio Logan - part art loft, part den. Vic knew the way by heart. He walked most of it, letting the night cool his skin and slow his thoughts. He passed witches lighting candles on stoops, werewolves drinking something dark out of to-go cups, a group of sirens laughing by the trolley line.

San Diego never really slept. It just lurked.

When he arrived, Gerard was already waiting in the doorway in a shirt and boxers, looking smug, tired, and too pleased to see him.

“You took your time,” Gerard said, stepping aside.

Vic didn’t answer. He just walked in, letting the industrial chill of the warehouse close around him. The air smelled like paint, wax, and cigarettes.

“You look like hell,” Gerard said softly, voice a little too gentle.

“Thanks,” Vic muttered.

He shrugged off his jacket and sat on Gerard's soft bed. The loft was dim, lit only by warm string lights and the faint amber of a stained-glass floor lamp. Gerard padded over barefoot and sat beside him, knee brushing knee.

“Marks tonight?” Gerard teased, reaching out to lift Vic’s chin. “That’s rare.”

Vic tensed.

He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to be read, but Gerard had always been sharp. Human, but annoyingly perceptive. He could feel the crackle in Vic’s aura, the tension between hunger and guilt, between needing and pretending not to.

“You alright?” Gerard asked, quieter this time. “You seem…”

“I just didn’t want to be alone, it's been a strange night.” Vic said.

Gerard didn’t ask more.

He moved in slowly, hand ghosting over Vic’s wrist, then his shoulder. It wasn’t passionate, it was comforting. Vic let himself be pulled into the kiss, let his mouth move on autopilot. Gerard tasted like whiskey, and his lips were soft in that way Kellin’s never were.

But Vic wasn’t thinking about Gerard. Not fully.

He was thinking about bruised lips and bloody mouths, about claws against his neck, about a werewolf who kissed like he was starving and then looked at Vic like he regretted every second of it. He was thinking about the couch in his apartment. About whether Kellin had woken up and found him gone.

Gerard’s hand slid up his thigh, and Vic shivered. He leaned into the kiss anyway, desperate to drown the ache with someone’s attention.

Gerard murmured against his skin. “He’ll always come back.”

That struck a nerve. Vic froze for a second before tilting his head, catching Gerard’s eyes. “That supposed to mean something?”

Gerard smiled lazily. “Not really.”

Vic didn’t have a response to that, so he let Gerard kiss him again. 

“If we're hooking up fully tonight, I must know sweetheart.” Gerard pulled away after a moment. “Top, or bottom?”

“Can you….” Vic's voice faltered, and his face turned pinkish. “Can you pick? I've… never… been with-”

Gerard suddenly remembered their first conversation on Jaime's couch, how Vic had never been with someone that had a penis before. Gerard laughed softly, tilting his chin up and kissing Vic who immediately melted and sighed as her lips trailed down his neck. “I forgot I'm your first experience with cock. I'll make you feel good, baby-bat.”

Her hands roamed Vic's clothed body, calloused fingers memorizing the feeling of everything. They sucked along his neck, and collarbones, and discarded Vic's zip up hoodie. Vic's shirt was removed promptly after, and her hands and mouth roamed his cold skin, biting bruises into every free part of flesh. Vic squirmed and gasped under her touch, melting into the mattress below him.

“Let me take care of you, dollface.” Gerard murmured, removing his shirt. Vic's breath hitched, Gerard was so pale and he was so incredibly gorgeous. “I'll show you what you deserve.”

“Please.” Vic rasped, his hips bucking up as Gerard's hands brushed over the bulge in his pants. “I want this.”

“I know.” She murmured, “I'll take good care of you, angel.”

Vic blushed as she hastily pulled down his boxers in one swift motion, gently grasping his half hard cock in her hand. He muttered in Vic's ear. “Kellin must be making you so needy…”

Vic moaned softly, eyes meeting Gerard's. He looked fairly pathetic, a vampire falling apart underneath the hands of a human. “It's.. it's been a bit.. he's a tease.”

Gerard leaned back, removing his hand from Vic's cock. Vic blushed as he made eye contact with the vampire. She took a step back, before commanding. “Watch me, and touch yourself until you're fully hard while you watch.”

Vic gasped at the command, submission leaking into his veins as he reached down to pump his half leaking cock already. Dark eyes landed on the human, and she stuck her thumbs underneath the waistband of her boxers. She slowly pulled them down, revealing her leaking cock. She smirked as Vic's jaw went slack.

“Like what you see, baby?”

Vic could only nod.

In one fluid sequence, Gerard reached into their nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube, tossing it onto the bed. They grabbed Vic, gently rolling him over and placing him into the doggy position. “Keep touching, I'm going to prep you.”

Vic nodded, reaching in between his legs. He rambled out softly, “I've.. done anal. Witch girl I was with in my sophomore year, you know how they are.”

Gerard chuckled, warming up the lube with his fingers. “Of course you have. Vampires are adventurous.” 

Vic blushed and immediately melted at her touch, “You have no idea how good you look right now,” Gerard says, almost as if he’s marvelling at the sight, not entirely lustful but truly admiring Vic’s beauty. 

Vic nods, grabbing Gerard’s wrist when she lowers his hand to circle his middle finger around Vic’s hole. He presses, not quite entering, and Vic whines. 

“Words,” She says. 

“Gentle,” Vic sighs. “Please.” 

“Good boy.” 

Vic expects her to maybe start with one and work him up, but Gerard takes two and slowly presses inside, making Vic groan. 

“You can take this.” Gerard doesn’t ask but tells Vic. “If you can’t, you can’t take me.” 

Vic groans and nods. He’s not hurting; per se, it’s just been a while, the feeling sent shivers down Vic’s spine and made him feel weak. Gerard’s fingers are slender, and long. He doesn’t rush it and takes plenty of time slipping into Vic, coming back down to kiss his back affectionately while he pushes their fingers deeper, pulling back, swallowing up Vic’s sweet, sweet moans as Gerard’s fingers get deeper. Gerard doesn’t seem inclined to add another, letting Vic hold onto his wrist, moving with him as he fucks him on his fingers. When Gerard takes Vic’s dick with his other hand, Vic cries out, “Gerard!” 

“It’s okay.” Gerard kisses his back. 

“I’m going to cum.” Vic tenses, digging his fingers into her wrist. 

“Then should I stop?” Gerard doesn’t stop. They curl their fingers more, doing a slow, agonizing drag at just the right spot, and Vic moans whorish and desperate. 

“I’m going to-” Vic tenses, and right there Gerard pulls his fingers out until just the tips are inside and takes his other hand away. Vic’s dick leaks. “No, no, no, no. Don’t stop.” 

“Say please.” 

“You mothe-” 

“Please.” Gerard takes her fingers out completely, and Vic whines; he’s aching. 

“Please, ma'am, please. Please keep going. I’m so close.” It was like a thread had snapped in Vic’s brain and his body melted completely.

“I know, baby.” Gerard starts stroking his own cock before lining it up with Vic’s hole. “Tell me if you can’t take it.” 

“I can take it. Please.” 

She chuckles and starts to push in, and Vic’s eyes roll. If these walls carry sound, he’ll have a lot of explaining to do because the moan Gerard knocks out of him was loud and absolutely slutty. 

“Oh, I’m coming,” Vic cries out.

Gerard pushes himself up and weaves his hand through Vic’s hair, tugging as she slams into Vic, the headboard tapping against the wall with her thrusts, and Vic calls out his name like it’s the only remaining word in his vocabulary. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. Don’t worry.” Gerard puts his hand lower on Vic’s spine with a little pressure. He wipes away Vic’s tears and kisses him, slowing down to make his strokes deep and savored, Vic’s dick pressed between them and the mattress. Vic sobs. “I know, I know. You’re so pretty like this.” 

“Baby.” Vic cries out as Gerard slides her hand up the back of Vic’s neck, threading her fingers into his hair. “Baby, again, I’m-” 

“Like this? You need me to touch you?” Gerard’s voice is soft and sweet as she reaches around and he is coming almost instantly. It’s the most perfect fit he’s ever felt. Gerard looks down almost like he wasn’t expecting it, and Vic clenches so tightly around him without letting go. Gerard pushes through it, moaning in Vic’s ear, squeezing him by his waist until he finishes with a deep press inside him. 

Gerard pulls out slowly, and Vic feels like he’s sinking into the mattress. Gerard lies next to him and stares up at the ceiling for a while before turning to Vic and taking him into his arms. 

“Was I too rough?” Gerard kisses Vic’s head. He chuckles when Vic shakes his head, still speechless. 

Later, Vic sat on the edge of Gerard’s bed, fully clothed again, cigarette between his fingers even though he didn’t smoke. He watched the smoke trail toward the ceiling, his chest tight. Gerard was asleep or pretending to be. He’d curled up under the blanket like a cat, hair mussed, breath slow.

Vic felt hollow, the taste of Kellin’s blood was still in his mouth, phantom and metallic. The way Kellin looked at him had rooted itself deep in Vic’s ribs.

“ You keep coming back like you are,” he’d said, and now he was the one who ran. Vic stood quietly, tucked his phone in his pocket, and slipped out the door. 

The sun hadn’t quite risen yet when he got home, but light was creeping through the blinds in watery stripes, casting soft lines across the hardwood. His apartment was quiet, too quiet, the kind of silence that felt like it was holding its breath. He stood in the entryway for a moment, keys still in hand, trying to remember how to move.

And then he saw the couch, Kellin was still asleep. Curled under a blanket, hair messy, his arm dangled off the side, fingers twitching occasionally like he was dreaming. His bruised lips were parted just slightly, and there was a faint crease in his brow even now, like he never really relaxed.

Vic’s stomach twisted.

He suddenly became acutely aware of himself, the feel of his skin, the stale scent clinging to him. Gerard’s cologne, the smoke, sweat, and overall sex smell. The closeness of that loft was still lingering on his body.  He grimaced and moved quietly down the hallway, shedding his hoodie in one hand, and made straight for the bathroom.

The water was scalding.

He stood under it longer than necessary, pressing his palms to the wall as the steam curled around him. He didn’t wash quickly. He scrubbed until he could barely smell anything but eucalyptus soap and hot tile, until his skin felt scraped clean.

His reflection in the fogged-up mirror was a blur. 

Vic stepped out, water still dripping from his hair, towel wrapped around his waist. He opened the cabinet, grabbed clean boxers and a pair of jeans from the nearby hamper he’d left full days ago, pulling them on with practiced efficiency.

Only once he had the jeans up and was halfway through raking his fingers through his damp hair did he realize…

He forgot a shirt.

“Shit,” he whispered under his breath, glancing toward the door.

The hallway was dim with still no sign of Kellin moving. Vic figured he could make it to his room and back in ten seconds flat. He opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway, bare feet silent against the wood.

One, two, three steps…

“Vic?”

Vic stopped short.

Kellin’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear, his voice was rough with sleep and confusion. Vic turned his head slowly. Kellin had pushed the blanket down, propping himself up on one elbow, eyes still blurry from sleep. He blinked a few times, then focused, and froze.

Vic realized instantly what Kellin was looking at.

The hickeys.

They were hard to miss. Dozens of them, mottled and raw along Vic’s chest, down the curve of his collarbone, even under his ribs. Gerard had been excessive, probably on purpose.

Vic swallowed hard. “I, uh…”

Kellin’s expression was upset for a second, then it morphed into something sharp and cold.

“Wow.”

Vic took a breath. “It’s not-”

“Don’t,” Kellin said, pushing the blanket off completely. He sat up slowly, eyes raking over Vic. “Don’t do that thing where you try to explain. You don’t owe me anything, remember?”

“Kellin- man-”

“You didn’t even come home last night.”

Vic winced. “I didn’t know you’d still be here.”

“Right,” Kellin said, standing up. His hands were clenched into fists, his voice flat. “So I guess it’s cool that I passed out on your couch, and you were out getting your neck sucked on by your human side piece.”

“That’s not fair.”

Kellin laughed once, dry and humorless. “You think any of this is fair?”

Vic didn’t know what to say to that. He stood there, shirtless, dripping slightly onto the floor. Kellin’s eyes flicked over the bruises again, and something flickered in his face. Hurt- Rage.

“Hope it was worth it,” Kellin said finally, brushing past Vic toward the door. The door slammed behind him. Vic stood frozen in the hallway for a long second, bare chest rising and falling in slow, shallow waves.

What the hell had just happened?

His lips parted, but no sound came out. Instead, he turned, walked back into the bathroom, and stared into the mirror like it owed him an answer.

The hickeys were still there. Purple, red, a few smudged with the faint outline of teeth. Gerard had been thorough. Maybe it had been an ego thing, maybe it was a territorial thing. Vic had let him, half-hoping someone would see.

Someone like Kellin.

Vic groaned and dragged his hand over his face, fingers pressing into his temples.

None of this made sense. Not logically. Not emotionally.

Kellin kept saying they were rivals, that they weren’t anything and that Vic meant nothing. Every time Vic got too close, Kellin would snap his jaws shut and pull away, using anger like a shield.

Yet, it hurt. Watching him walk away like that.

Why?

Vic had never agreed to exclusivity. Kellin never wanted that. He never said he wanted anything at all.

So why did it feel like Vic had just committed the worst kind of sin?

He sighed and leaned back against the counter, running a towel down his neck. He stared at the lock screen on his phone for a while.

No messages from Kellin. Of course.

But one from Gerard:

You left fast. hope I didn't wear you out too much 😉

Vic didn’t reply.

He scrolled to another name. One he hadn’t reached out to in a while, but he needed someone grounded. Someone who wouldn’t feed the drama.

He tapped Tony’s name.

Vic:

hey you up?

The typing bubbles started almost immediately.

Tony:

yeah. everything okay?

Vic sat down on the edge of his bed, still in his jeans, towel abandoned on the floor. He stared at the message box, fingers hesitating before he finally let it all out.

kinda. Idk. Kellin crashed on my couch last night. he’s withdrawing bad and I stayed at gerard’s.

now he’s pissed and acting like i cheated or something. He said we’re just rivals. so why does he care??

Typing it out makes me feel like a dick, btw.

Well yeah, you are a little bit of a dick sometimes

Vic snorted.

But also? sounds like he’s being a hypocrite. He keeps playing both sides. you’re supposed to hate each other, but you make out on my bathroom floor??

right???

He’s not mad about Gerard. he’s mad because it felt like you moved on without him

i don’t even know if we were a “thing” to begin with

you were. even if you didn’t call it that.

Vic sank back on the mattress, one arm flung across his eyes. The light leaking through the blinds hit his skin, warm and cold at the same time. His chest still ached in that awful, hot kind of way. Not from guilt, exactly, from being caught in someone else's storm. He didn’t want to be the guy who waited around for Kellin Quinn to make up his mind about whether they were enemies or something more, but he also didn’t want to be the guy who made Kellin think he didn’t care. He’s not cruel.

i think i hurt him.

i think he hurt himself. He hasn’t made up his mind yet.

There was a long pause before Tony added:

if you still want to be there for him, you’ll have to make peace with being hated one minute and kissed the next. he’s all fight and feeling right now.

so what do i do?

Be honest. and when he pushes you away, don’t let him convince you that he doesn’t care.

Vic didn’t respond right away. He stared up at the ceiling, thoughts circling like vultures.

He didn’t know how to fix this and didn’t know if Kellin even wanted him to. Maybe he did and just not in a way either of them had figured out how to say yet.

He knew one thing though, Kellin had seen the bruises and flinched like they were made for him. That meant something even if neither of them could admit it yet.

Vic’s fingers hovered over the screen, rereading Tony’s last message.

He let out a long breath. 

His thumbs started moving again.

what if he comes back and acts like nothing happened? or worse, starts another fight?

i don’t want to be pathetic but i also… kinda miss him when he's not around. and when he is, i can’t think straight.

that’s cause you’re in it with him, dude. you’re not pathetic

so what do i do if he shows up again?

When he shows up, and he will, don’t play games. Let him be messy but don’t match it. Be calm and remind him that you’re still here and you’re not going to run the second he gets weird again.

Vic flopped fully onto his back, staring at the ceiling. The way Tony said when made his chest feel lighter and heavier all at once.

you sound like you’ve been through this before.

lol dating Jaime taught me patience. now he makes it easy. mostly.

speaking of... i could use a distraction tonight.

We’re doing a movie night at mine. you in?

Vic’s lips twitched into something that almost resembled a smile. The thought of being around people who weren’t tangled in romantic disasters sounded… refreshing.

only if i get to sit in the middle and demand cuddles from both of you

jaime says only if you bring snacks. and wear deodorant.

no promises 😌

8pm. Don’t flake or i’m sending Jaime to eat you

Vic chuckled to himself, finally rolling off the bed to grab a clean shirt.

The ache was still there, the one Kellin always left in his wake, but for now, at least he had friends. 

By the time Vic pulled up in front of Tony and Jaime’s house, the sun had already dipped below the horizon. Warm light glowed through the front window, and the soft sound of laughter leaked out when the door swung open before he could even knock. Tony stood there in a hoodie, grinning like he hadn’t just spent the last hour counseling Vic through a vampire/werewolf emotional crisis via text.

“Hey, man,” Tony greeted, pulling Vic into a quick, easy hug.

“Hey.” Vic hugged back, then gave a quick glance past Tony’s shoulder.

Tony stepped aside. “Jaime’s already got the couch nest ready. Blankets, pillows, your spot saved, everything. You're spoiled.”

“I demand nothing less.” Vic smirked as he stepped inside, the warmth of the house immediately soothing his nerves. The familiar scent of old wood, incense, and microwave popcorn greeted him like an old friend.

From the living room, Jaime’s voice called out, “If you took longer, I was going to eat your Twizzlers.”

“You always say that,” Vic replied, walking into the room and dropping onto the couch beside him.

Jaime grinned, adjusting the blanket over his legs. “And one day, I’ll mean it.”

Vic slouched into the cushions with a sigh that felt like it let go of more than just breath. “Feels good to be somewhere normal.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”

Before Vic could answer, Tony appeared in the doorway again, already halfway to the kitchen. “I’m gonna throw in some taquitos and make more popcorn. Yell if either of you decides on a movie genre.”

“No rom-coms,” Vic said reflexively.

“No artsy horror where no one speaks for the first twenty minutes,” Jaime added.

Tony shot them both finger guns as he disappeared into the kitchen. “So basically, you want garbage. Got it.”

As Tony banged around for ingredients, Jaime turned to Vic, expression softening. “You okay?”

Vic didn’t answer immediately. He let his head tip back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “I think I’m trying not to be.”

“Because of Kellin?”

Vic huffed a laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’ve got that look, also Tone told me. You know that boy can't keep anything from me.”

Vic groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I’m so stupid.”

Jaime bumped his shoulder. “You're just a little emotionally scrambled.”

“I slept with Gerard,” Vic muttered, voice muffled behind his hands.

Jaime blinked. “...That’s a new one.”

“I know. It was dumb. Kellin was at my place, passed out on the couch. I wasn’t thinking, I just... I needed to feel wanted. But when I got home and saw him sleeping there, I just felt gross.”

There was a long beat of silence.

Jaime was surprisingly gentle as he spoke. “Vic, you’ve been spiraling over a guy who won’t even admit he likes you. That doesn’t make you gross. It makes you hurt.”

“I think I want him to hate me again,” Vic admitted. “Because it’s easier than hoping for something real. I didn't even know I had feelings for him until your party.”

Jaime didn’t say anything right away. 

“You want something real?” Jaime finally asked.

Vic hesitated, then nodded.

Before the silence could settle into something too heavy, Tony reemerged with a giant bowl of popcorn, two plates of taquitos, and a smug look on his face.

“Snacks are served. And yes, I burnt two of them because that’s my signature.”

He handed them each a plate and flopped into the spot next to Vic. “Now, let’s watch something where no one talks about their feelings.”

Jaime laughed. They settled on a ridiculous slasher movie with more fake blood than plot. 

Tony cradled Vic's head, basically making the shorter vampire lay his head on his shoulder. Jaime reached over Vic's lap, and took Tony's free hand. By the time the credits rolled, Vic’s chest ached a little less, and for the first time in days, he wasn’t thinking about Kellin Quinn.

Not too much, anyway.

Chapter Text

Vic was running, it felt like the ground was shifting below him with every step forward. The sky above was violet and cracked with veins of silver, the trees twisted unnaturally, their branches reaching out like arms. He didn’t know what he was chasing or what was chasing him. All he knew was Kellin was ahead of him, just always just out of reach, and the ground was moving him farther away. He caught glimpses through the thicket. Vic shouted his name, again and again, but the forest swallowed his voice like it was ashamed of him. Kellin turned. He was standing in a clearing, blanketed in snow, even though it hadn’t snowed in San Diego in a century. Kellin’s back was bare, covered in words carved deep into his skin. Traitor. Liar. Addict. Weak. Blood oozed from each word, dripping into the snow. Vic stepped forward, hand outstretched, breath catching in his throat.

“I didn’t write those,” he whispered.

Kellin didn’t turn around. “No, but you watched while they were written. You particpated.”

A blinding light spilled down, and with it came a deafening howl that shook the trees. Kellin’s figure began to fade, like ink soaking into paper, vanishing into the snow as if he’d never been there at all.

“No, no, wait,” Vic choked out, racing forward. “Please.”

He fell to his knees, digging at the snow, trying to claw him back into existence.

Vic gasped awake.

His heart pounded against his ribs like it was trying to escape. For a moment, he didn’t remember where he was. The scent of  laundry detergent and leftover popcorn slowly grounded him, it was Jaime and Tony’s home. He was laying on the couch, curled awkwardly beneath a fuzzy Star Wars blanket and soaked in cold sweat. The TV still displayed the paused screen of a random Disney comfort movie they'd fallen asleep halfway through. Afternoon sun filtered in through the slats of the blinds, throwing golden bars across the carpet. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to steady his breathing. The dream still clung to him, that version of Kellin carved up felt too real. He sat up, wincing at the stiffness in his neck. His phone sat on the coffee table. No new messages. Not from Kellin, anyway. It hurt in a way he hadn’t expected, and even though he told himself it was better this way, Vic couldn’t forget how Kellin had looked the last time they spoke. The tremble in his voice when he’d talked hurt.

Vic hugged his knees to his chest. He couldn’t stop seeing those words carved into dream-Kellin’s skin. He couldn’t stop hearing the accusation.

A soft knock came from down the hallway.

“Hey, you up?” It was Jaime’s voice, groggy and gentle.

Vic cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You want pancakes or something? Tony’s already in the kitchen.”

Vic forced a chuckle. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Cool. No pressure.”

He listened to Jaime’s retreating footsteps and let his head fall back onto the couch cushions.

Somewhere in his chest, guilt twisted like a blade, and he stretched his arms over his head as he stood. His joints protested as he padded into the kitchen barefoot.

Jaime was stirring a bowl with a little too much aggression. “You’re up!”

“I didn’t die on your blanket,” Vic said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Appreciated,” Jaime grinned.

Tony handed Vic a mug of coffee. “You sleep alright?”

“Better than I expected.” Vic took a sip, leaned against the counter. “I needed this.”

“You mean us? Your hot gay support couple?” Jaime offered, eyes twinkling.

Vic barked a laugh. “Exactly that.”

They stood in a quiet rhythm for a moment, the kitchen full of the sound of sizzling eggs and clinking mugs. Then Tony asked casually, “You gonna talk to Kellin?”

Vic swallowed hard. The coffee suddenly felt hotter in his mouth.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

Jaime turned down the stove burner. “You want him to know about Gerard?”

Vic stared into his mug. “He already knows. Saw the hickeys. We didn’t talk about it.”

“And you want to?” Tony asked.

“No,” Vic said quickly. He spoke a second time softer, “Yes. I don’t know.”

Tony gave him a look that was more honest than judgmental. “You’re not gonna be able to pretend you don’t care forever.”

“I’m not pretending,” Vic said, but the words rang hollow.

He was halfway through his coffee when his phone buzzed again.

Kellin Quinn:

You home?

Vic stared at the screen. His thumb hovered.

Tony raised an eyebrow as Jaime whispered like he was narrating a nature documentary. “And now, the vampire spots the elusive, emotionally conflicted text from his werewolf rival situationship.”

“Shut up,” Vic muttered.

I left my jacket on your couch

I’m coming by in 10

Vic sighed. “Guess I should head out.”

Tony and Jaime exchanged a look, but neither stopped him. Jaime just pointed at the counter. “Take a bagel for the road. And if you need to not be alone later, you’re welcome back here always.”

Vic smiled gratefully, grabbed a blueberry bagel, and headed out the door.

When the knock finally came to his door, Vic already knew it was Kellin. He’d been pacing near the door for the last five minutes, heart in his throat, every muscle taut. The moment he opened it, there Kellin was, jaw set like he was bracing for impact.

“I just came for my jacket,” Kellin muttered.

Vic stepped aside wordlessly, he didn’t move far, Kellin brushed past him anyway. The jacket was still where he’d left it slung over the arm of the couch, and Kellin grabbed it without a word.

Vic’s voice cut into the silence, low but edged. “That’s it?”

Kellin didn’t turn around. “Yeah.”

“You’re just gonna act like nothing happened?”

“I didn’t come here to talk,” Kellin said, slipping his arms into the sleeves. “I just wanted my stuff.”

“No.” Vic took a step forward. “Bullshit. You came here so you wouldn’t have to ask for it. You can’t pretend you don’t care.”

“I don’t.”

“Bullshit!” Vic snapped. “You do. Or else you wouldn’t have stared at me like that in class, or freaked out when I kissed someone else-”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Kellin said, finally turning to face him. “It wasn’t jealousy. I just didn’t want to see you with him.”

“Oh, okay,” Vic said, bitterness creeping into his voice. “So it’s not about wanting me. It’s just about controlling what I do.”

“I don’t want you!” Kellin shouted, the words too loud and too quick, like he needed to convince himself more than Vic. “I just-”

Vic crossed his arms, jaw clenched. “You just what?”

“I don’t know!” Kellin’s voice cracked. “You make me fucking crazy, okay? One second we’re ripping each other’s throats out and the next we’re-” He stopped himself, voice trembling. “It doesn’t make any goddamn sense.”

“You kissed me first,” Vic said, softer now. “You stayed on my couch. You let me see you fall apart. But I hook up with one guy and suddenly I’m the asshole?”

Kellin flinched. “It’s not about that.”

“Then what is it?” Vic demanded, stepping closer. “You keep saying we’re not anything and that you hate me. What the fuck could it possibly be, Kellin Quinn?”

Kellin’s hands curled into fists. “Because I can’t want you!”

“Why not?” Vic asked.

“Because you’re dangerous,” Kellin snapped. “Because you don’t actually want me! You just want to play games. This is another one of your rivalry things.”

Vic reeled back like he’d been slapped. “That’s not true.”

“You left hickeys all over me and then ran to Gerard like it meant nothing, just to piss me off!”

“Oh, and what, Kellin? You get to disappear for days, you leave me on read, and you expect me to fucking act like none of this is happening? How can you absolutely expect me to keep acting like everything is fine?”

They were too close now, both of them breathing hard, like they’d run full speed into a wall made of each other.

“I don’t know how to be near you,” Kellin admitted, voice broken. “Every time I try, it hurts.”

Vic stared at him, all the fight draining from his body.

Then he said, quietly, “I didn’t sleep with Gerard because I wanted to hurt you.”

Kellin’s eyes flickered.

“I did it because I was tired of feeling like a placeholder,” Vic continued. “Like I was just convenient until you decided what you wanted.”

Kellin’s voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t think I know how to want someone the right way.”

Vic took a breath. “Maybe we both don’t.”

The silence between them stretched long and taut, thick with unspoken things. Neither moved.

Then Vic said, softer than before, “Sit down. Please. Just talk to me.”

Kellin hesitated. His shoulders trembled as he nodded and sank into the couch, jacket half on, eyes red.

“I want to understand,” Vic said softly. “Whether you hate me or whatever else, just... tell me why.”

Kellin’s lip trembled. When he spoke, his voice was so quiet Vic had to lean forward to hear him. “My parents... they dragged me out of Oregon when I was twelve. Packed up everything, left at two a.m. because of something my dad did.”

He looked up then, eyes raw. “He was involved with some shady business. It got messy and they said we needed a fresh start, it hurt to get ripped from everything I’ve known. A lot. It messes with you biologically when you’re lycan.”

Vic nodded, he knew vaguely of the illness Kellin was referring to.

“I grew up two towns over, but always watched the news. I’m pretty sure my dad’s a killer, the timelines added up.”

His fingers curled around the fabric of the couch. “My mom? She’s... she’s baptized by the church. They taught her that vampires and fae and anything undead, they’re all threats. They poisoned the world. They shouldn’t exist. She taught me to smell out anyone like you.”

Vic didn’t say anything. His chest tightened with each word, he didn't know how to cope with all the information being tossed at him. It felt like he was running on auto at this point.

Kellin swallowed, steadying himself. “So after that stunt- with the biting and the kissing me, then fucking someone else? It feels like confirmation of everything I've been taught to reject. Trust evaporated.”

“Fuck,” Vic breathed. He moved one chair closer. “I didn’t know.”

“I know,” Kellin whispered, tears brimming. “And now here I am, enjoying you and half terrified. Terrified of everything you are, also craving it. I don’t know if I want to hate you anymore, but I’m fucking scared of what wanting you means.”

Vic exhaled, reaching out and gently brushing the back of his knuckles along Kellin’s jawline. “Then don’t leave.”

Kellin’s voice cracked, “I’m scared if I don’t push you away, I’ll be weak again.”

“You aren’t weak,” Vic said, moving closer until their knees touched. “You just haven’t allowed yourself to admit you deserve connection, even if that means being with a vampire.”

Kellin’s breath hitched. “I’m not sure I believe that.”

Vic’s thumbs brushed over Kellin’s cheek. “Stay with me right now. Let me prove it.”

Kellin shook his head slowly. “I don’t know how not to run.”

Vic carefully pulled him into a gentler, less desperate embrace. “If you run, I will stay right here for you to come back.”

Kellin’s shoulders sank, shaking with relief and pain. “They made me feel ashamed for even being born. I don't know if it's the LWS or if I'm just the black wolf of the family.”

“You’re wanted,” Vic whispered. “Just as you are.”

Kellin closed his eyes, pressing his face into Vic’s shoulder. Kellin’s breathing had finally evened out. His body, once so tight with grief and rage, now rested softly against Vic’s side. They sat in comfortable silence for a second, then Kellin’s phone buzzed. He flinched and Vic felt it, Vic leaned back just enough to look at him, but Kellin was already reaching for his phone, eyes glued to the screen. Vic tried not to look over at his phone, but he caught the name Jeremy before he looked away.

One notification.

Jeremy: Hey. I’m finally back in town. Can we talk?

All the color drained from Kellin’s face. His chest started to rise and fall faster, breath shallowing like he’d just been dunked in freezing water.

Vic asked quietly. “What is it?”

Kellin didn’t answer. He stood up too fast, nearly knocking the phone from his own hand. His fingers trembled as he fumbled for his jacket.

“Kellin- wait,” Vic said.

“I have to go,” Kellin muttered, eyes wide and unfocused. His pupils were blown, his hands shaking.

“Who was that?” Vic asked gently.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kellin snapped, sharp and too defensive. “It’s no one. I just- I forgot I had somewhere to be.”

Vic stepped in front of him, not blocking the door but slowing his escape. “Don’t do that. Don’t lie.”

Kellin’s throat bobbed. He glanced at the phone again, as if the screen might burn him if he held it too long.

“You don’t have to run, Kellin-”

“I’m not running,” Kellin snapped, then faltered. “I’m not. I’m just- i need air, okay? Please. I need space before I fr- before this turns into something worse.”

Vic finally took a step back, heart pounding. He wanted to say more, he wanted to stop him but he knew that it looked like Kellin was barely holding himself together with string and teeth.

“Just... text me,” Vic said.

Kellin nodded, already halfway to the door. “Yeah. Maybe.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Vic stood there for a long time, staring at the door, fists clenched at his sides. Finally, he closed the door and turned into his apartment, sitting on his couch and pulling out his phone. He sighed as he put his password in, and opened up Google Chrome. He quickly typed “LWS” into the search bar, he knew vaguely of the illness, knew that it came with some emotional stuff and health issues. He tapped on the first link, a Mayo Clinic page about it. His eyes ghosted down the page as he scrolled and sat back on his couch.

Lone Wolf Syndrome (LWS) is a chronic condition that affects werewolves who have been removed- either voluntarily or involuntarily- from their original packs. The condition disrupts the biological, neurological, and magical systems that regulate a werewolf’s health and emotional stability…

Vic’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t expected anything so clinical. He kept reading.

Symptoms of LWS may include unstable or involuntary shifting, insomnia, chronic joint pain, distorted scent perception, mood instability, isolation sensitivity…

His gaze lingered on each phrase. Unstable shifts. Insomnia. Emotional volatility. Distorted scent. Isolation. Hallucinations.

It was like reading a list of everything Kellin had been trying to hide. Vic swallowed hard. He continued reading, his chest growing tighter.

In advanced cases, symptoms may include: loss of ability to shift entirely. Feral regressions. 

He sat frozen, the words sinking in. The site explained that early separation from one's birth pack could stunt magical development, especially if the separation was traumatic. It mentioned a higher risk for PTSD, dissociation, emotional dysregulation, and pack-bonding disorders. Vic closed his eyes briefly, trying to breathe. This wasn’t just mood swings or a bad night. He thought back to the way Kellin had looked after the text. Vic leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the screen. The page kept going, treatment options, recommendations, links to magical stabilizer clinics, but his focus had narrowed. Vic didn’t mean to spend hours on it. He told himself he’d read one article but the sterile Mayo Clinic description wasn’t enough. Not when the symptoms were matching too perfectly. So Vic scrolled to the bottom of the page and clicked the first forum link he saw: r/werewolfhealth. He didn’t even know that subreddit existed.

The top post was six months old. “My mate has LWS. I feel like I’m slowly losing him.” It had over 2,000 upvotes, so he clicked.

“He doesn’t talk about it but I know. his shifts have gotten erratic like he’s fighting with himself every time. He flinches in his sleep and he stopped eating for almost a week once?? He won’t let me help. I think he’s scared I’ll leave if I see the worst of it. I already have and I’m still here!”

Vic scrolled through the comments.

“my older brother went feral for three days. he still won’t talk about what happened.”

“It’s not just the shifting. They don’t know who they are without the pack scent to remind them. It’s scary man.”

“LWS isn’t just being sad or lonely. It’s being untethered. Like watching your body float away while you're still inside it.”

Vic didn’t realize he was gripping his phone tighter until his fingers went numb. He backed out and kept digging. There was a post on a niche relationship board: “Dating a werewolf with Lone Wolf Syndrome - AMA.” He clicked it. The OP was a human, married to a werewolf diagnosed with LWS in his early twenties.

“At first, I thought he just had anxiety. One time I woke up to him crying in the kitchen at 3AM, completely shifted, staring at the stove like he didn’t recognize it. He didn’t even know he’d shifted. There’s this haunted look they get, like they’re waiting for someone who’s never coming back. You can be right next to them and they still feel abandoned. What helped the most? Routine. Physical touch. Letting him know every damn day that he’s not alone anymore, even when he tries to push me away.”

Vic swallowed hard. He kept scrolling.

There was a thread titled “Things I wish people knew about LWS (from someone who has it).”

“It’s not that I don’t want to connect with people. It’s that my nervous system doesn’t know how anymore. Sometimes my body forgets how to shift back. I have to anchor myself with smells, voices, and touch. Otherwise, I stay in-between. It hurts like every bone is arguing with itself. I pretend I’m fine because people get tired of hearing how hard it is to just exist. I joke about it. I hide it. But I’m scared, all the time, that one day I’ll stop being human at all.”

Vic set the phone down for a second, chest aching. He blinked hard against the burning behind his eyes. It was too familiar now. The way Kellin flinched when Vic touched his shoulder, then leaned in like he hadn’t realized he needed it. This wasn’t just about a bad breakup or whatever the hell had happened with Jeremy. Vic picked up his phone again and typed into Google:

“What to do if someone you love has Lone Wolf Syndrome?”

The first article was from a werewolf advocacy group.

“You can’t fix it but you can be an anchor. Be consistent. Remind them that they don’t have to earn safety, they just get to have it.”

He didn’t know where Kellin had gone. He didn’t know what seeing that text had triggered. Vic stared at the phone screen for a long time, thumb hovering over the messaging app. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. "Are you okay?” felt too empty. "Talk to me” felt like pressure. And "Please don’t spiral alone" sounded more like a confession than a comfort. Eventually, he just typed it.

Vic:

Let me know you’re safe please.

He sent it before he could overthink it, the message was marked as Delivered, then Read, nothing else came. Vic stared at the screen so long his eyes started to burn. He set the phone face down and tried to pace it off, but the stillness in the room was suffocating. He picked the phone back up, opened his contacts, and scrolled until he hit the one person who might have an answer. Tony. Vic hit call before he could talk himself out of it.

It rang twice before Tony answered, voice groggy. “Yo?”

“Hey. It’s Vic,” he said quickly. “Sorry for calling out of nowhere, but uh. I need a favor. Kind of urgent.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Okay…”

“It’s about Kellin.”

That got Tony’s full attention. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know.” Vic rubbed the back of his neck. “He left earlier after getting a text. He looked like he was about to cry. I tried to check in, but he left me on read.”

“Shit,” Tony muttered. “Do you know who the text was from?”

“Someone named Jeremy.”

Silence. A long one. Vic heard a soft exhale, like Tony had just sat down.

“Yeah,” Tony said finally. “That tracks.”

“You knew him?”

“Know him,” Tony corrected. “It’s Mckinnon.”

Vic’s grip on the phone tightened. “Are you serious? Why is he texting Jeremy Mckinnon?”

“I thought they..” Tony sighed, “Nevermind, that’s not my story to tell Vic.”

“Okay well-” Vic sighed, frustration filling his mind. “Did you know that Kellin has Lone Wolf Syndrome?” 

Another pause, longer this time, it made Vic want to blow his brains out.

Tony said, quietly. “He thinks if he can just white-knuckle through it long enough, it’ll go away.”

“It won’t,” Vic said, too sharply. “I’ve been reading stories. This isn’t just some breakup trauma, this is in his bones.”

“I know.”

“I want to help him,” Vic said, voice breaking just slightly. “But he’s shutting me out. And I think if I leave him alone right now, it’s only going to get worse.”

Tony sighed. “So what are you asking?”

“Do you still have the number for one of his packmates? Anyone who’d pick up if I called and said Kellin’s not okay?”

Tony didn’t answer right away. Vic could hear faint shuffling in the background, maybe drawers, or the sound of a charger being unplugged. Tony was quiet on the line for a moment.

“I shouldn’t give this out,” he said finally, voice low. “Kellin would hate it. But...”

Vic held his breath.

“But I will,” Tony continued. “Because he won’t ask for help. And he’s not going to reach out to me anymore.”

There was a pause, the soft sound of Tony tapping something on his phone screen.

New message from Tony:
Justin – (360) 779-54XX

Justin.  He remembered the name. Kellin had only ever said it once, offhandedly, late one night when they were both half-asleep. There’d been a kind of ache in his voice when he said it. Vic pulled up his keypad, heart hammering, and tapped the number in. He didn’t know what he was walking into. He didn’t know what he was going to say. 

“Thank you. Bye Tone.” Vic said to Tony, and hung up the phone with Tony before immediately pressing Call again. The phone rang three times before a voice picked up, cautious and unfamiliar.

“Hello?” Justin said on the other line.

Vic gripped the phone tighter. “Hi- uh. Is this Justin?”

“Yeah. Who’s asking?”

“My name’s Vic. Um.. Sorry- Vic Fuentes- I’m calling about Quinn.”

There was a pause. 

“Okay,” Justin said. “Why are you calling me? I thought you hated him.”

Vic swallowed. “Because Kellin left my place a couple hours ago after getting a text that clearly rattled him. He said he needed space, but I could tell he wasn’t okay. He’s not answering me now. And I-I’ve been reading about Lone Wolf Syndrome.”

The other end of the line went completely still.

“I think he’s in a bad place,” Vic continued. “And I think he’s been hiding it. But all the symptoms… they line up. They’ve been there since I met him. Maybe even before.”

Justin finally spoke, voice low. “He has it. He knows. I watched it start,” Justin continued quietly. “He was sixteen. He used to call me in the middle of the night, mid-shift, not knowing where he was. I’d talk him down over the phone until his bones stopped trying to tear themselves apart.”

Vic closed his eyes. “And now?”

“He won’t talk about it,” Justin said flatly. “Not with me. I’ve tried. I offered to help him anchor, to set up stabilization sessions. He just shuts down.”

Justin spoke again. “What was the text?”

Vic pulled his phone back up, staring at where Kellin left him on read again. “It was from Jeremy Mckinnon, I saw it on his phone screen.”

He could practically hear Justin’s teeth clench. “Goddamn it.”

“So you know him?”

“Unfortunately. Jeremy is his ex. I warned him, but… y’know. When you’re desperate, even a bad bond feels like something.”

Vic’s chest twisted. “And now he’s back.”

“Yeah,” Justin said. “And Kellin’s not strong enough to handle that alone, not while he’s having an episode.”

There was a sound on Justin’s end, car keys jingling, a door creaking open, before he spoke again.

“I’m heading out now,” he said. “Where was he last?”

“My place,” Vic answered. “Downtown, near 5th and Alder. He left around six pm last night.”

“Okay. That gives me a window. He might’ve gone to ground somewhere familiar. Old parks, the trail near the cemetery, even the cliffs. He always runs when things got heavy. I’ll start tracing.”

“I want to help,” Vic said, suddenly unsure if he was overstepping or already too deep.

“You already are,” Justin said, not unkindly. “You don’t have to do anything more at the moment.”

Vic's voice dropped. “He’s scared.”

Justin sighed. “Yeah. So are we.”

They hung up shortly after, and Vic stared at the empty space in his apartment. He didn’t know if Kellin would come back, but now he wasn’t the only one looking.

Chapter Text

Kellin didn’t remember closing the front door. He only realized he had when the night air smacked into his face like cold water, shocking his lungs into breathing again. He didn’t remember shoving his phone back in his pocket either, or how fast he was walking, just that he needed to keep going. His legs burned, his lungs were tight, but his mind was louder than any of it.

Hey. I’m finally back in town. Can we talk?

He hadn’t seen Jeremy’s name on his phone in over 2 months. The last time they’d spoken, it ended in Jeremy breaking his hand and then disappearing after they both were fighting. And now, out of nowhere, Jeremy was back? The timing couldn’t have been worse… or maybe it was perfect in that twisted way life always found to punch him when he was just starting to stand up again. Kellin kept walking, faster, hands shoved into his jacket. He took a corner too hard and nearly stumbled, catching himself on a lamp post before straightening up again. The weight in his chest was spreading and ugly. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t care.

His thoughts circled like vultures.

What does he want? Why now? What if Vic saw the message? Why did I even run?

Why does it feel like I just lost something all over again?

He shouldn’t care. He told himself that over and over. Jeremy was part of a past he didn’t want to revisit. And Vic was a complication, a poison in disguise, a rival and a temptation wrapped in blood, fangs, and unforgiving intensity. But Vic was also warmth in the quiet hours and gentle when Kellin needed it most. He was real. Too real. Kellin's stomach twisted and he wanted to scream. He wanted to shift and run until he couldn't feel anything. Jeremy had been safe before they started fighting. Familiar. Easier to explain to his family, to the pack, to himself. He’d been someone Kellin could bring home, someone who passed as “normal.” He's a wolf, even if he is a man, and that’s acceptable enough to his mother. And that had fallen apart. Vic wasn’t safe. Vic was everything he was taught to hate and every fucking thing he couldn’t stop wanting. Kellin bit down on his tongue, hard, trying to snap himself out of it. The pain was grounding and sharp to his senses. His hands were shaking. His breathing felt shallow, panic creeping in beneath his skin like rot.

What was he supposed to say if he answered Jeremy?

“Hi, Where did you go? I’m completely wrecked btw. I'm strung out from withdrawals and unresolved trauma, and also I think I’m in something like lust with a vampire I was raised to fear?”

It was laughable. Pathetic.

Kellin stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, pulling out his phone again. He stared at the message.

Hey. I’m finally back in town. Can we talk?

His fingers hovered over the screen.

No. No, we can’t.

He began, then immediately backspaced and deleted his reply. He didn’t block Jeremy’s number. 

Kellin wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking by the time he reached Justin’s building. The sun was low now, painting the sky with bruised colors. His legs ached, and his mouth was dry, but he didn’t stop moving until he was standing in front of apartment 3B with a knuckle raised. He hesitated. What if Justin was mad at him? What if he didn’t want to deal with him anymore?

Still, he knocked.

The sound echoed too loudly in the hallway. He waited, then knocked again, softer this time.

No answer.

Kellin rocked back on his heels, glancing down the corridor. He tried the door- locked. Of course. He knocked once more, this time pressing his forehead lightly against the wood. “Please,” he muttered, barely audible, “just be home…”

But Justin wasn’t. His scent lingered in the hallway- coffee, smoke, the earthy sharpness of lycanthrope, but it was old and fading. Kellin’s heart dropped. He’s not here. That realization settled like lead in his chest. He slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor, knees drawn to his chest, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands. He rested his head back against the door, closing his eyes. Maybe if he stayed quiet long enough, the world would forget he existed. Maybe if he waited long enough, Justin would come back. His phone buzzed in his pocket, sharp and cruel.

I heard from one of ur old friends u're still in town. I meant what I said. I’d like to see u. It doesn’t have to be weird. 

Kellin stared at the message, his thumb frozen above the screen.

Weird? Everything was weird. His body didn’t feel like his. His head was in too many places. His mouth still tasted faintly of Vic, and now Jeremy was reaching through the static like no time had passed.

Kellin swallowed hard. The temptation to reply was sharp and immediate, Jeremy was something familiar to cling to. Someone who knew the version of him before everything fell apart. Someone who wouldn’t look at him like Vic did, like he was something wild and tragic. He didn’t know how long he sat there, it was long enough for the hallway lights to flicker on. Long enough for the silence to stretch from comforting to deafening. Kellin’s legs had gone stiff, and his phone had buzzed twice with low-battery warnings. Jeremy’s text stayed untouched. Burning. It called to him. He didn’t want to feel this way, like a child looking for something soft to curl up with. But it was easier to face a ghost than the blur of whatever the hell was happening with Vic. He pulled his phone out again. The screen was cracked from where it must’ve knocked against the pavement earlier, a clean jagged fracture right through Jeremy’s name in his messages. He tapped the keyboard with slow, deliberate fingers.

Where do you want to meet?

The read receipt popped up instantly. The response came only a few seconds later.

Eclipse? Like old times. I’ll be in the back booth.

Kellin’s stomach dropped.

Eclipse. Of course.

Back then it had been one of the only places he felt like he could breathe, dim lighting, sweaty bodies, the heavy thrum of bass drowning out the chaos in his mind. It was also where Jeremy had first kissed him in public, where he’d smoked his first cigarette. The memories hit like ice water. He stared at the message.

Like old times.

He almost didn’t reply.

Almost.

But instead he typed:

I’ll be there. Give me half an hour.

He forced himself up, knees aching, wiping his palms on his jeans. His body was stiff, sore from withdrawal, emotional whiplash, and the unresolved way Vic’s voice still lingered in his ears. He tried not to think about it. He needed something to ground himself, even if it was a bad idea. Even if it meant going backward.

The night air bit at Kellin’s skin as he stepped outside Justin’s apartment building, the weight of the empty hallway still heavy on his shoulders. The quiet was suffocating, but the cold helped steady his racing heart. He pulled his jacket tighter, feeling the fabric rough against his skin. It was almost like a barrier between the past and what was about to come. His phone buzzed again.

I’m here.

Kellin swallowed hard, staring at the text as if it were a live wire. His thumb hovered, then slid to send a new message.

Half an hour.

He didn’t know how to explain the knot of dread and curiosity tangling in his stomach. It wasn’t that Jeremy was the safe choice, he was far from it, but when Vic’s absence felt like a hollow ache inside him, when the weight of his own thoughts pushed him to the edge, Jeremy’s familiar name felt like a tether to reality. Kellin’s boots clicked hard on the cracked concrete as he approached Eclipse. The cold night air did nothing to cool the fire burning inside him, a mix of anger, betrayal, and something rawer twisted in his gut. The neon sign flickered red and sickly above the grimy entrance, like a warning. He paused a moment, steadying himself, heart hammering with everything he wanted to say. He needed to think of everything Jeremy deserved to hear.

Inside, the club’s heavy bass rolled through the air, pounding like a second heartbeat. Fog curled low and thick, swallowing the crowded dance floor. He pushed through, eyes scanning. There was Jeremy, in the shadowed booth near the back, slouched and looking too comfortable. Jeremy’s head lifted slowly, his expression unreadable at first, then it turned into a smirk, half amused, half sneering.

Kellin’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and cold. “You’re here. Guess that means you’re done ghosting me.”

Jeremy shrugged, lazily swirling the dark drink in his hand. “Wasn’t much of a ghost, more like I lost interest.”

Kellin’s chest tightened. “You disappeared. No calls. No texts. Nothing. You didn’t even have the decency to say why.”

Jeremy’s smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. “I was cheating on you again, because you weren’t worth my time anymore. Simple as that.”

That hit like a punch straight to the jaw.

Kellin’s voice shook, barely containing the rage boiling under his skin. “You think I’m not worth your time? After everything?”

Jeremy leaned forward, his gaze sharp and merciless. “After you stopped being fun, yeah. You got needy- clingy. You wanted things to mean something, and I just wanted to have a good time. You were holding me back.”

Kellin’s breath hitched, anger warred with hurt. “So you used me again. I was just a game?”

Jeremy’s grin was cold, almost triumphant. “You were what I needed when I needed it. And then I moved on. That’s how it goes.”

Kellin’s fists clenched tighter. “You ever think maybe you’re the one who lost something?”

Jeremy laughed, it was a sharp, bitter sound. “Yeah, I lost patience with you.”

Kellin stared, a storm raging behind his eyes. “You’re going to die alone.”

“Go ahead,” Jeremy said, voice dripping with scorn. “Tell me you hate me.”

Kellin shook his head, voice low and dangerous. “No. I hate what you did. And I hate that you think you won.”

Jeremy stood, a smug look on his face. “I always win.”

Kellin didn’t move to leave. His body was tense, rooted to the spot despite the storm raging inside him. Jeremy’s words had landed like knives but something else bubbled beneath the anger, that ache was back.

“Don’t think you can just walk away from this,” Kellin snapped, voice rough. “And don’t start spewing any poetic bullshit.”

Jeremy scoffed. “You want to make me feel bad? Too bad, Kellin. I’m done with you. You’re stuck in your own mess.”

Kellin’s fists shook, his nails digging into his palms as if trying to hold himself together. The room spun slightly, the pounding bass feeling like thunder inside his chest.

“Why?” Kellin’s voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why’d you cheat instead of just being honest?”

Jeremy shrugged, eyes cold. “Because honesty wasn’t gonna fix whatever you had going on. You’re broken.”

That word echoed inside Kellin’s head. Broken . He blinked rapidly as a hot wave of dizziness washed over him. The air felt heavier and thick like he was sinking underwater. His shoulders hunched involuntarily as a deep, aching pain spread through his bones. Raw and gnawing. His hands trembled as if his body was fighting itself from the inside out. It whispered poison: You’re alone. You’re worthless. You don’t belong. Kellin swallowed hard, fighting the rising panic clawing at his throat. His breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. The flashing lights of the club blurred, the music distorting into a low, relentless hum.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, voice strained. His vision tunneled as a cold sweat broke out across his forehead. The crowded club felt suffocating and the noise was deafening.

Jeremy’s expression flickered, but he said nothing.

Kellin staggered slightly, clutching the edge of the table as the gnawing ache twisted through his bones, his breath coming shallow and ragged. He whispered, “I’m not…”

Jeremy only sneered, stepping closer, his voice cold and sharp like a blade. “Lost? You’re just weak. Always have been. That act you’re doing right now? That’s just an excuse for your bullshit.”

Kellin’s muscles tensed, the ache in his joints flaring hotter and sharper, spreading like wildfire beneath his skin. His hands trembled uncontrollably now, fingers curling into tight fists.

“You don’t get to do that,” Kellin hissed, struggling to keep his voice steady despite the burning sensation rising in his bones. “You cheated on me. And now you have the nerve to call me weak for being upset? I don't even know why I'm upset.”

Jeremy’s smirk twisted cruelly. “I left because you were dragging me down. Because I wasn’t wasting my time on someone who’d never be whole.”

The club noise felt like thunder crashing inside Kellin’s head. His vision blurred, cold sweat slicking his skin as the flare crept deeper. His body ached fiercely, every nerve raw and screaming. Kellin shook his head, voice breaking. “I’m not broken. Not because of you.”

Jeremy leaned in, voice low and venomous. “Face it, Kellin Quinn. You’re alone because you push everyone away. You’re a goddamn liability.”

The words shredded the final sense of fight inside Kellin. His breath hitched painfully. The room tilted as a wave of nausea washed over him, his limbs were going numb, his heart pounding like it would tear free from his chest.

“I’m not a liability,” Kellin choked out, tears burning behind his eyes. “I’m trying.”

Jeremy laughed, harsh and unforgiving. “Trying isn’t enough. You’re like a poison.”

Kellin’s body shook violently, the flare rising in a crescendo. The pain was unbearable, it was as if his skin was splitting, his bones fracturing beneath the weight of every cruel word. He stumbled back, nearly collapsing, his breath ragged with sweat pouring down his face.

“Please,” Kellin gasped. “Stop.”

But Jeremy only spat, “Maybe I should have left you to rot.”

That was the breaking point. The ache and despair crashed through Kellin’s defenses like a tidal wave. His vision darkened, chest tightening painfully as his body betrayed him. Kellin gritted his teeth, fighting to stay conscious, to hold onto himself.

“I’m not weak,” Kellin growled, voice trembling with both fury and pain. 

But Jeremy was already walking away, and Kellin cried out as he stumbled in the opposite direction. Kellin sank to the grimy floor of the club’s back alley, the cold concrete biting into his skin through his thin jacket. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale sharp and jagged like shards of glass. The ache that had flared up in his joints now consumed his entire body, his muscles were spasming uncontrollably, bones aching as if they were splintering from the inside out. His hands trembled violently, fingers twitching and curling as if they had a mind of their own. A distant part of his mind recognized the symptoms of Lone Wolf Syndrome. The brutal disconnect between his mind and body and the rebellion of his muscles that came from years of severed ties to his home pack were already happening. His vision blurred and darkened at the edges. The distant neon lights from the club flickered and warped like ghosts, mocking him. Kellin wanted to scream, but the sound caught in his throat. The rawness of betrayal twisted with the ache inside him, forging a bitter cocktail of fury, despair, and helplessness.

“I’m not weak,” he whispered fiercely to the night, teeth clenched against the sting of tears. “I’m not broken. I’m still here.”

But even as he spoke, the truth was gnawing at him: every minute felt like losing pieces of himself, his own body was turning against him. His back pressed hard against the cold brick wall, and he slid down to sit, knees drawn close to hold himself together. His breath shuddered in waves, each exhale trembling with exhaustion and raw emotion. Kellin’s breath hitched, the relentless ache clawing at him from the inside out. He pressed his palms hard against his knees, trying to steady the tremors overtaking his limbs. The night air felt like a weight, pressing down on his chest.

Then something shifted.

A faint scent, sharp and familiar, cut through the haze: coffee, smoke, and something unmistakably like home. Kellin’s eyes snapped open, heart stuttering. It was Justin.

“Quinn?” The voice was low but steady, carrying a warmth Kellin hadn’t realized he’d been craving.

Kellin swallowed hard, but the floodgates broke. His breath cracked, and the tears he’d been holding in shattered free, hot and raw, streaming down his cheeks. All the frustration, fear, and loneliness poured out in a broken sob.

Justin crouched beside him, careful and patient. “Hey, I’m here. You’re not alone.”

Kellin didn’t say anything, just let himself collapse into the solid presence beside him, trembling. Justin stayed close, his presence steady like an anchor. His voice was calm, gentle enough to not overwhelm, but clear enough to break through Kellin’s haze.

“I caught your scent earlier, out near the old trail.” Justin’s eyes searched Kellin’s face, reading every tremor and tear. “Vic messaged me. Said you left his place after getting a text. He was worried, man. Said you weren’t yourself.”

Kellin hiccupped, another sob rattling his chest. “I’m… not,” he choked out, voice ragged. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Justin nodded slowly, waiting patiently. “I know. I’ve seen it before. LWS hits hard, Kellin. I don’t have to ask if you’re struggling, I can smell it in you.”

Kellin’s hands trembled, covering his face as tears leaked through his fingers. “It’s like… my body and my mind are fighting. Like something’s tearing me apart from the inside out. I’m so tired, but I can’t sleep. I try to shift, but sometimes I can’t find the wolf anymore. And the pain-” His voice cracked. “It’s everywhere. Like every bone in me is breaking.”

Justin shifted closer, his tone softer. “It’s brutal. I understand. You don’t have to explain.”

Kellin’s sobs grew louder, raw and unfiltered. “I pushed Vic away. I don’t want to hurt him. But I’m scared if I let him in, I’ll just drag him into the chaos I’m drowning in.”

Justin’s expression softened with sympathy. “You’re not dragging him anywhere. Vic wants to help. He’s been worried sick. You’re not alone in this, no matter how much it feels like you’re on your own.”

Kellin shook his head, voice muffled by tears. “I don’t deserve him… or anyone. I’ve been running from Jeremy, from my past, from everything. I thought I was strong enough, but it’s like I’m falling apart.”

Justin gave a slow, understanding nod. “You’re stronger than you think. But you don’t have to prove it by yourself anymore.”

Kellin wiped at his face, voice trembling. “Jeremy… he said I wasn’t worth his time. That I was broken.” He looked up, eyes glossy. “I believed him.”

Justin’s jaw tightened. “He was wrong. And if he really said that, then he never understood you at all. That’s on him, not you.”

Kellin let out a shaky breath, the weight of months wasted pressing down on him. He didn’t know if he believed Justin. Justin helped Kellin to his feet, steadying him with a firm grip on his elbow. “Come on,” Justin said softly. “Let’s get you back to my place. You need rest, and somewhere safe.”

Kellin nodded weakly, barely able to trust his own limbs. His head still spun with exhaustion and pain. Justin’s apartment wasn’t far, it was only a few blocks away and the walk was quiet, the silence punctured only by Kellin’s uneven breathing and the faint sounds of the city waking up around them. Once inside, the familiar hum of electronics and the smell of faintly burned popcorn greeted them. Justin flicked on a few lights, gesturing toward the couch and the small living room.

“Why don’t you crash in my bed tonight?” Justin offered casually, but there was a kindness underneath. “I’ll take the couch.”

Kellin’s eyes widened, shaking his head. “No, I can’t-”

Justin cut him off with a gentle but firm shake of his head. “You’ve been up for too long. Just rest, okay? No arguments.”

Kellin hesitated, then sighed, the fight leaving his body like sand slipping through fingers. He let Justin guide him down the hallway to the bedroom. Justin threw a couple extra blankets and pillows onto his large comfy bed, making a small nest for Kellin. “There, all cozy for you princess. Sleep well.” He said, turning to the living room.

Settling into the couch, Justin grabbed his Xbox controller and powered up the TV. “I’ll be in here playing Call of Duty and shitting on kids in Warzone if you need me.”

Kellin barely responded, his eyelids heavy as he slipped beneath the covers. The room blurred around him, his breathing slowing with each passing second. Justin’s voice came from the living room a second time, low and steady. “Food on me tonight. Chinese?”

A soft, muffled “Okay” came from the bedroom. The aggressive clicking of Justin’s controller lulled Kellin into the hardest he’s slept in days. 

Chapter Text

Kellin sat up, pushing the blankets aside and rubbing the heel of his hand over his eyes until his vision cleared. His muscles still ached in that deep, marrow-deep way Lone Wolf Syndrome liked to punish him with after stress, but it wasn’t the sharp, debilitating pain from last night. More like a reminder.

He swiped to his messages, scrolling back through the days he’d been ignoring everyone. Notifications stacked one after another, most of them unopened.

Justin’s check-ins. A text from him explaining that he works 7 am - 4pm today but Kellin’s leftovers from last night are in the fridge.

A few work shift reminders.

A couple of random memes from Tony.

Then his stomach sank as he saw the most recent thread from his mom.

The angry texts were stamped with time stamps from early this morning, all in quick succession:

I heard you were seen at that disgusting club again.

Are you trying to embarrass us?

You know the kind of filth that hangs around there.

I didn’t raise you to throw your life away.

The knot in his throat tightened. He didn’t open them fully, he didn’t need to, he could hear her voice just fine without reading every word.

Kellin tossed his phone onto the bed for a second, scrubbing his face with both hands. But the quiet of the apartment pressed in, and it was either face his notifications or let them rot in the corner of his mind until they rotted him.

So he picked it back up. 

Near the bottom of his unread list sat Vic’s thread, the name stark against the pale background. He hadn’t opened it in days, hadn’t even let himself look at it too long. The last message was from two nights ago.

Let me know you’re safe please.

Kellin stared at the words until they blurred. He’d left him on read after that. He didn’t even know if it had been to punish Vic, or to protect himself from whatever this was between them. the silence between them felt heavier than any fight.

He swallowed, fingers hesitating over the keyboard before he finally typed:

I’m fine. Sorry I disappeared.

He hit send before he could overthink it, his heart thudding unevenly like Vic would reply instantly. The read receipt popped up almost instantly under Kellin’s message. His pulse jumped. It was as if the man had been sitting with his phone in hand for forty-eight hours straight, waiting.

A moment later, Vic’s reply appeared:

Jesus kellin. You had me thinking something happened. are you okay? where are you?

Kellin’s thumbs hovered over the screen, unsure if he should go with honesty or deflection but before he could type, his mother’s name lit up the top of his notifications again.

Mom → Kellin: 

Don’t you dare ignore me.

Tell me where you are right now.

If you’re still running around with those bloodsuckers and degenerates, I will stop paying your tuition. Don’t think I won’t.

The air in the apartment suddenly felt too heavy. He tapped back to Vic’s thread instead.

Kellin → Vic : I’m at Justin’s. Just needed a place to crash.

Vic replied so fast it made Kellin’s chest ache.

I’m glad you’re safe. do u need me to come over?

The vibration buzzed against his palms again, his mom was relentless.

Mom → Kellin: 

I know you’re reading these. You’ve got ten minutes to tell me where you are before I call your father.

Kellin’s jaw tightened. He hated that her words still had the power to coil around his spine like barbed wire. He forced his fingers to move.

Kellin → Mom : 

I’m fine. I’m staying at a friend’s. Stop threatening me.

Her reply came fast, sharper.

If you were fine, you wouldn’t be hiding.

He switched back to Vic, almost desperate for the contrast.

Kellin → Vic : I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’m just… not up for seeing anyone right now.

that’s ok. I just need 2 know you’re eating and sleeping. 

Another vibration.

Mom → Kellin :  

Answer my question: is your “friend” human or wolf?

Kellin gritted his teeth.

Kellin → Mom : 

This isn’t your business. I’m an adult. I’m at Justin’s.

It is my business if you’re getting yourself tangled up with the kind of people who ruin lives.

He exhaled shakily, switching back to Vic.

Kellin → Vic : I’ll be okay. Just give me today.

Vic’s typing bubbles appeared, paused, then reappeared.

fine. bt i’m checking in 2night. Don’t disappear on me again.

Kellin dropped the phone onto the comforter beside him, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. Both conversations still buzzed in his skull, one warm and worried, the other cold and sharpened like a blade. Kellin had barely let out the breath he’d been holding when his phone lit up again, her name filling the screen in an endless stream of notifications.

Mom → Kellin :

You need to come home. Now.

I’m not going to keep asking nicely.

If you think you can keep hiding from me, you’re wrong.

Your father and I are not tolerating this behavior.

Come. Home. Now.

The final text came seconds later, colder than all the rest:

If you don’t walk through our front door today, I will make sure you regret it.

His stomach knotted so tight it made him dizzy. The tone was the same one she used when he was younger, the one that made his wolf curl in on itself, the one that had always made him obey without question. He could almost smell the sharp, bitter scent of her anger even from miles away. Kellin’s fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long moment before he forced himself to type. Every word felt rehearsed and practiced, the way he’d been taught to address them when they were furious.

I’m sorry for upsetting you and Dad. That was never my intention. I understand you’re angry. I’ll do my best to make things right.

He read it over twice, making sure it sounded respectful and non-confrontational. He hit send. Almost instantly, the ache started in his chest again. The familiar pull of Lone Wolf Syndrome, dragging its cold fingers through muscle and bone. His breathing hitched because every inhale seemed to press against something raw inside him. It was worse when he thought about going back. Worse when he imagined stepping through their front door and being met with the same disappointed, unyielding stares that had followed him his whole life. The wolf in him recoiled, restless, but his body just sat there, heavy and aching.

Kellin → Justin :  

Hey. Thanks for letting me crash. I think I’m gonna head home.

It only took a minute for Justin to reply.

You sure? You don’t have to.

Kellin shoved his feet into his shoes, pausing to rub at his sternum before texting back.

Yeah. I should. Don’t wanna make things worse.

Things will get worse if you push yourself while you’re still fried.

I’ll be fine. I’ll text when I get there.

Alright… just keep your phone on you, yeah?

He slipped out into the late afternoon sun, the warmth doing nothing to lift the tightness in his chest. Every step home was quiet but loud — his head a storm of his mother’s messages, Vic’s unread concern, Jeremy’s smirk from last night.

Justin’s texts kept coming as he walked.

You sure you’re okay?

Yeah. Just tired.

You better not ghost me like you ghosted Vic.

Low blow.

Someone’s gotta keep you in check.

The corners of Kellin’s mouth twitched into a smile, but it didn’t stick. He turned the last corner, and his chest gave a sharp throb. The house loomed ahead, paint as pristine as ever, lawn clipped with military precision.

It was 3:02 p.m. when he stepped onto the driveway.

His mother was waiting on the porch, arms crossed, her expression carved in stone. The light breeze stirred her hair, but she didn’t move otherwise. The ache in his chest spread, slow and cold, as if his body already knew what was coming.

Kellin slowed at the bottom of the steps, his breath catching like the air had thickened. His mother’s eyes narrowed the moment his shadow fell across the porch.

“You’d better be ready to behave,” she said, her voice clipped and low, like every word was a warning. “Your father is inside, and he is not in a forgiving mood.”

Instinct, the one drilled into him since childhood, kicked in hard. It was safer to make himself small.

“I..” he started, but she cut him off with a sharp motion of her hand.

“You reek,” she hissed, leaning just far enough forward that he caught the icy glare beneath her lashes. “Do you think I don’t know what that smell is? The stench of the undead all over my son again? You bring it into our home like it’s nothing.”

His chest throbbed, that ache spreading like wildfire. His knees felt unsteady, his fingertips cold. He stared at the peeling paint on the porch rail, every muscle wanting to retreat, but his legs wouldn’t move.

“I told you before,” she went on, her voice now sharper, the edge meant to cut deep, “you were not raised to keep company with their kind. Every time I think you’ve grown up, you come home smelling like them. Is this rebellion? Or are you just too weak to stay away?”

Kellin’s jaw trembled, but no words came. His throat closed off the way it did in pack disputes, a primal instinct to stay silent under pressure. He stood there shaking, his breathing turned shallow, each inhale scraping against the tightness in his chest.

“Pathetic,” she muttered under her breath, straightening up and glancing at the door like she was deciding whether to let him in at all. Kellin kept his eyes down, counting the scuffs in the porch boards. It was easier than looking at her.

“You think this is a joke?” his mother pressed, her voice sharpening with each syllable. “You stroll back here at three in the afternoon smelling like-” she waved her hand sharply, “ them , and you expect us to welcome you home? We are better than this, Kellin. Our family is better than this. You’ve been given every advantage, and this is how you repay us?”

His throat burned. The Lone Wolf Syndrome ache crawled from his chest into his shoulders, a heaviness that made it harder to breathe.

“You’re wasting yourself,” she went on, pacing in front of him like she couldn’t stand still. “Stumbling through your degree, skipping lectures, barely passing your classes. And for what? So you can get high with God-knows-what creatures? So you can-” she glanced toward the street, lowering her voice but not her fury. “become some half-dead burnout who throws away every ounce of potential you have?”

Kellin swallowed hard, his mouth dry. “I’m not-”

But she didn’t stop. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it is for us? For your father? He’s worked his whole life to give you stability, and you spit on it. And don’t you dare look at me like that- this isn’t about control, this is about the fact that we raised you to be better than the filth you’re running with.”

That word - filth - made something snap inside him. The ache in his chest twisted, but instead of curling inward, he looked up at her for the first time since he’d arrived.

“Better than what?” His voice was low, shaky, but sharp. “Better than being myself? Better than finding people who don’t treat me like a mistake? Because if that’s your definition of ‘better,’ then maybe I don’t want it.”

Her mouth fell open, but before she could answer, he pushed on.

“And you want to talk about wasting myself? You think I’d be doing any of this if I didn’t grow up wondering if the man raising me had blood on his hands? If I didn’t have to live with the idea that my dad’s a killer?”

Her whole body went rigid, like his words had cut straight through her. “Watch your mouth,” she hissed, her voice dropping low enough to make his skin prickle. “You don’t ever speak about your father like that.”

“I’m speaking the truth,” Kellin said, the tremble in his voice no longer from fear, but from holding back too much for too long. “I watched the news. I know the timelines. I know what happened in Oregon. You think I don’t connect the dots? You think I don’t know why we left in the middle of the night?”

She stepped closer, her eyes glinting with something between fury and panic. “You don’t know anything. You were a child. You have no idea what was at stake.”

“No, I was a kid who was lied to.” His voice cracked now, tears starting to blur his vision. “Dragged away from everything I knew, told to forget, told to smile and behave and never ask questions. Now you act like I’m the problem because I don’t fit your perfect mold.”

His mother’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “You are throwing your life away for parasites and poison. For drugs and monsters. You’re proving to everyone that you’re just-” she stopped herself, inhaling sharply.

“Just what?” Kellin demanded, his voice raising now. “Go ahead. Say it.”

She stared at him for a long moment, the silence between them feeling like a stone lodged in his throat. His mother’s eyes narrowed again. “If you want to ruin yourself, do it away from here. But while you live under our roof, you will not shame this family. You will not drag us through the mud with your addictions, your trash friends, and your pathetic excuses for-”

“I’m not pathetic!” The words came out louder than he intended, shaking with anger and exhaustion. “I’m hurting , but you don’t care about that. You only care about how I make you look. You don’t care that I wake up some days wishing I could just disappear because it would be easier than trying to live with all this…” he pressed a trembling hand against his chest 

Her face went pale, but her jaw locked tight. “You are not going to stand here and-”

“I already am,” he snapped. “You can’t scare me into being the son you want anymore. I’m done pretending I don’t know who you are. I’m done pretending I don’t know who he is. And if that means you cut my tuition, or kick me out, or disown me, fine. At least I’ll finally be honest.”

They stood there breathing hard, the heat of the argument vibrating between them like static. Kellin’s vision tunneled a little, the LWS ache now joined by a throbbing in his temples. His legs trembled, threatening to give out.

His mother shook her head slowly, like she didn’t even recognize him. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Maybe,” Kellin said, voice raw. “But it’s my mistake. Not yours. Not his.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The only sound was Kellin’s uneven breathing and the faint creak of the porch boards beneath their feet. Somewhere inside the house, he heard a chair scrape against the floor. His mother’s eyes darted toward the door, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t say anything else, but the tension in her posture said enough.

“Kellin.”

The sound came from inside, deep, commanding, threaded with something primal that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. His father’s voice.

“Get inside. Now.”

It wasn’t loud. It didn’t have to be. The weight in those words hit Kellin like a hook sinking into his chest. His stomach dropped, and before he could think, before he could even want to resist, his body was already moving. Fear flooded his veins so fast it was almost dizzying, colliding with the sharp, throbbing ache of LWS. His wolf stirred restlessly under his skin, that low, ancient instinct recognizing the tone - an Alpha’s order. His muscles went tight, then loosened all at once, his body betraying him with obedience even while his mind screamed no, don’t go in. His mother stepped aside without a word, watching him pass. Every step toward the door felt heavier. His hands hung limply at his sides, his chest tightening until it hurt to breathe. His legs carried him forward like they weren’t his, the inner wolf pushing him toward the command it could not disobey.

Inside, the house smelled the same as always, but it felt different. Smaller. By the time he reached the living room doorway, his pulse was pounding in his ears. His father was there, standing with his back to the window, arms crossed, shadow falling long across the floor.

The wolf inside him stilled completely, ears back, tail down, ready to listen. But Kellin’s human side was burning with panic, his breath shallow, his skin prickling. He could already feel the fight starting inside himself, his instincts pulling him into submission, but his mind clawing for any way out.

Kellin barely had time to stop in the living room before his father’s voice hit him again. No Alpha command this time, just fury.

“Do you have any idea what the hell you’re doing to yourself?” his father barked, stepping forward. “What you’re doing to this family?”

Kellin opened his mouth to answer, but his father was already cutting him off.

“I told you, I warned you about the undead. I told you to keep your distance, and you reek of them again. You think I don’t know what that means? You think I don’t smell it the second you walk in my door?”

Kellin’s chest was tight, his jaw locked. “I’m not-”

“You’re not what? Ruining yourself?” his father roared, pacing toward him. “You think your mother and I worked ourselves to the bone, uprooted everything, to watch you throw it away for some bloodsucker and a handful of pills?”

That last part hit too close. Kellin’s voice rose without him meaning it to. “You think moving fixed anything? You think dragging me here fixed what you broke?”

His father’s eyes narrowed. “I broke nothing. I kept you alive. I protected my pups like any decent Alpha would.”

“By killing people?” Kellin snapped, the word burning in his mouth. “By making sure we could never settle anywhere long enough for me to be normal? You destroyed my biology before I even had the chance to-”

“I did what I had to do!” his father thundered, taking a step closer. His presence filled the room like a physical weight. “Everything I’ve done has been for this family, and you turn out to be-”

“Don’t you dare,” Kellin warned, voice shaking.

“A fuck-up,” his father spat. “A weak, self-pitying, soft-hearted mess who picked a bitch’s degree in education instead of making something of himself.”

Kellin’s vision blurred with rage. His skin was burning, the LWS ache pounding behind every bone. “Maybe I picked it because I wanted to help someone for once, instead of destroying everything I touch! Maybe I wanted to be something other than the monster you made me!”

His father’s lip curled. “You’re blaming me for your own pathetic-”

“YES!” Kellin screamed, and the word ripped something loose inside him. “Because of you, I’m broken. Because of you, my wolf doesn’t know if it’s supposed to submit or fight to the death. Because of you, I wake up every single day with pain in my chest, like my own body hates me!”

His breathing turned ragged, vision swimming, nails biting into his palms so hard he thought they’d break skin. Something inside him was twisting, cracking.

“Don’t you walk away from me, Kellin,” his father barked, mistaking the way his son’s body shifted weight. “We’re not done here-”

Kellin’s chest tightened as his father’s rage swallowed the room. Every word was a jagged blade carving deeper into something fragile and raw inside him. His breath hitched, uneven and shallow. Then it hit, an unbearable, searing heat spreading from his lungs down into his limbs, igniting every nerve ending like wildfire. His knees buckled without warning, fingers clawing at his jeans as if trying to hold himself together, but his body was already betraying him. A violent, ripping sensation tore through his skin, the stretch, the strain, as muscles and bones warped beyond his control. His ribs cracked audibly, sharp shards of pain radiating through his torso like electric shocks. His hands clenched into fists, then twisted agonizingly as his fingers thickened and grew into curved claws, tearing painfully through the fabric of his jacket sleeves. His vision blurred and sharpened all at once, sound distorting into a low growl that vibrated from his throat uncontrollably. His heart hammered in his chest like a frantic drum, threatening to burst free. Every fiber of his being screamed resistance, but the transformation bulldozed through him relentlessly with no warning, no mercy, and no consent. His spine arched painfully as fur erupted along his arms and back, coarse and hot against the sudden exposure. His teeth lengthened into sharp fangs that bit into his lower lip until it bled. His senses exploded, smells, sounds, and sights magnified to an overwhelming intensity that threatened to fracture his mind. He collapsed to his hands and knees, panting raggedly, sweat slicking his skin as waves of agony pulsed through his body in rhythmic jolts. His wolf was unleashed against his will.

The moment Kellin hit the floor on all fours, his wolf’s instincts surged forward, overwhelming his fractured human mind. The transformation wasn’t just physical, it was mental and primal as well. The wolf inside him was no mindless beast; it was cunning, protective, and fiercely territorial.

His wolf’s thoughts flooded his consciousness like a floodgate bursting open: Danger. Danger. Father’s anger is fire. Must flee. Must survive.

In a blur of motion, Kellin scrabbled at the hardwood floor until it found his phone resting nearby on the side table. His wolf’s mind grasped the importance instantly: this tether to the world of humans, once he was safe he would need this again. With trembling but urgent precision, he snatched the device, clutching it tight as the wolf took full command. His senses exploded with the smell of his father’s fury trailing behind like a toxic storm. Too close. Too dangerous.

Without looking back, Kellin’s wolf bolted out the front door, claws scraping pavement, lungs burning with exertion. 

“KELLIN!” his father’s voice roared after him, loud enough to rattle the house. “GET BACK HERE!”

The city blurred into a chaotic mix of streetlights, honking cars, and sharp urban scents that made his head spin. But the wolf craved something different, he craved the cold, clean, ancient scent of pine and earth. His legs pumped faster, carrying him out of San Diego’s choked streets and into the winding, uphill roads that led to Julian. The mountains were calling to the wolf and they were promising safety. He didn’t think about the distance, he couldn’t. His mind was too flooded with raw need to get away. Julian’s thick forests and sharp mountain air promised a refuge where the wolf inside could breathe freely, where the suffocating heat of his father’s wrath could no longer reach him. As the sun dipped low behind the peaks, Kellin’s body burned with exhaustion and pain, but his wolf pushed onward, clawed feet pounding dirt trails under a rising moon.

The forest around him breathed with an ancient, steady rhythm. Kellin’s wolf eased into the clearing, muscles trembling as they slowed from frantic flight to wary stillness. The scent of pine needles and damp earth wove through the cool mountain air, grounding the wild beast beneath the moonlight.

Kellin’s human mind fluttered weakly beneath the powerful surge of the wolf’s instincts, like a fragile candle struggling against a storm. He could feel it, the sharp contrast between the two halves of himself, pulling at his soul with an almost unbearable tension.

Ran , the wolf’s voice echoed deep inside his chest, a low growl of instinct and survival. I am free here.

Kellin’s voice, small and shaky, whispered back from the shadows of his mind. Free? Am I really? Or am I just running from everything that hurts?

The wolf’s eyes narrowed, fierce and untamed. Weakness means death. 

Kellin’s hands clenched, nails digging into rough bark as his breath hitched. What about feeling?

There was a silence, thick and raw, before the wolf spoke again, softer this time. Feeling is a risk. Lose control.

I’ll be broken. Kellin admitted in the quiet dark between the trees. 

The wolf shifted, ears flicking to the distant night sounds. Kellin heard a coyote’s cry, the rustle of branches in a gentle breeze. 

Kellin swallowed hard, heart pounding in his chest like a wild drum. My pack is gone. They left me behind. They don’t hear me. I’m alone.

The wolf’s growl was low and rumbling, but it carried an edge of sorrow. Alone is a lie.  

I don’t know how to be human and wolf and not fall apart.

You don’t have to do it alone. The wolf’s voice softened into something almost like a promise. We are one. You and I. We survive together.

I’m scared. Scared I’ll lose myself or lose you.

The forest was quiet around him, moonlight filtering softly through the dense canopy. Kellin’s wolf form paced restlessly in the clearing, muscles taut and senses sharp as the night air filled his lungs. His body was alive with the raw, feral energy of the shift, every nerve ending blazing with heightened awareness, every movement fluid and primal.

But beneath that fierce exterior, something else was stirring, a fragile, tentative flicker of the man he once was. The ache in his chest, the weight in his bones, the memories clawing at his mind, they began to weave their way through the fog of instinct and adrenaline. Slowly, agonizingly, the wolf recoiled as Kellin’s human consciousness fought its way back to the surface.

It started as a dull throb deep in his skull, a faint pulse behind his eyes. Then came the twitching of muscles no longer used to such control, the slow, burning ache in his hands as they reshaped from paws back to fingers.

His fur thinned and retreated, his snout shortening, jaws loosening. The keen wolfish senses dulled, replaced by the softer but heavier perceptions of humanity.

Pain flared in every joint like wildfire, his bones crackled and shifted as if trying to forget the unnatural form they had been forced into. His lungs burned with the effort of breathing through a narrowing snout, now widening again into a face he barely recognized.

Finally, with a shuddering gasp, Kellin collapsed onto the mossy ground, the human version of himself returning in a wave of exhaustion and relief.

His chest rose and fell erratically, heart pounding not with the wild rhythms of a predator but the fragile beat of a frightened young man trying to find his footing.

Tangled breaths escaped him as his hands trembled, curling into fists to ground himself against the lingering chaos.

For a long moment, all he could do was lie there—half broken, half alive—wrapped in the cold quiet of the forest.

Then, as the adrenaline faded, he became aware of the steady vibration in his jacket pocket.

His phone.

With shaking fingers, Kellin pulled it free and blinked against the pale light of the screen. The name “Vic” glowed softly, beckoning him back from the edge.

A message.

Hey. you there? it’s been hours. i’m worried.

Another buzz.

Please just text me back. you promised.

His wolf growled low in his throat, uneasy at the sudden intrusion, but the man inside him — raw, tired, aching for connection — reached out to his phone.

He typed with trembling hands, his voice silent but sincere in the words he sent:

I’m okay. Just needed some space.

The messages kept coming, Vic’s steady reassurance breaking through the fog of isolation.

I’m not mad. I just want you safe. You don’t have to do this alone.

Kellin swallowed the lump in his throat, the human side of him stirring stronger.

He typed back, tentative but honest:

Thanks. I’ll reach out if I need help. Promise.

Vic’s next message came almost immediately after Kellin’s reply.

Please tell me where you are.

Kellin’s fingers tightened around the phone. The quiet forest seemed to close in, and for a moment, the raw nerves beneath his skin ignited.

Why do you need to know? he typed back, voice sharp in his mind if not in sound.

Because I care. Because I can’t just wait here not knowing if you’re safe.

Kellin’s breath hitched. The wolf in him snarled at the intrusion, but the human in him, tired and desperate, snapped back.

Fine . He typed, exhaling sharply. I’m in the Cuyamaca Mountains. Near a clearing not far from Julian. Happy?

The message was sent before his wolf could reconsider. Vic’s reply came instantly, no hesitation.

I’m on my way.

Kellin’s chest tightened.

Don’t . He sent quickly.

I don’t want you to come. It’s better if I’m alone.

But Vic’s determination was unwavering.

I’m coming, whether you want me to or not. Give me your location.

Kellin stared at the screen, the battle inside him raging.

He hated how much he needed someone right now, and he hated that he couldn’t push Vic away. Kellin’s fingers trembled, the sharp, burning pain of the involuntary shift had only just begun to fade, but his body still throbbed with exhaustion and rawness. His breathing grew shallow, each inhale heavier than the last.

Unconsciously, Kellin’s thumb pressed the screen of his phone, sending his precise coordinates to Vic’s iMessage. The message was sent without thought, just a desperate, silent plea for help from somewhere deep inside him.

He didn’t move. His body felt too heavy, too broken, as if the bones themselves might shatter under the strain. Hours slipped by unnoticed.

Then, a crunch of gravel echoed through the trees.

Kellin’s head snapped up. Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, he saw the familiar shape of a beaten-up, old Toyota Corolla pull into the clearing. The driver’s door swung open. Vic stepped out, eyes scanning the landscape until they locked onto Kellin, sitting motionless beneath the tall pines. 

Vic’s voice was soft but urgent, “Kellin. I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Kellin swallowed thickly, overwhelmed by a mix of relief and shame, barely able to find his voice. Vic didn’t hesitate. He practically sprinted around to the back of his old Corolla, yanked open the trunk, and started rummaging through the duffel bag he’d thrown in there earlier. His fingers fumbled for a moment, then found exactly what he was looking for. A soft, worn pair of grey sweatpants and an oversized black hoodie. He turned back to Kellin, who was slumped against a mossy tree trunk, the late afternoon sun dappling through the leaves and casting shifting shadows over his pale, trembling skin. The shredded remains of Kellin’s clothes hung limply from his thin frame, barely shielding him from the chill that had begun settling into the mountain air. His boxers, tattered and faded, were the only piece left intact, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

Vic spoke gently. “Here, try these on. They’ll keep you warm.”

Vic held out the clothes without a word.

Kellin’s eyes flicked up, dark and fierce. “I don’t want your fucking clothes, Vic.”

Vic’s jaw tightened. “Don’t do this. Listen to me when I tell you to do something.”

The silence stretched between them for a moment, thick and heavy as they stared at each other. Kellin’s voice cracked, raw and vulnerable as he spoke, his head felt like he was wading through a pool of cotton balls. His mouth moved before he could censor himself. “I think I love you.”

Vic’s breath hitched. He let out a slow, heavy sigh, fighting the swirl of emotions that came after those dizzy words left Kellin’s lips. “Then get in the fucking car, Quinn.”

Kellin’s hands shook as he reached out, taking the clothes from Vic’s outstretched arms. His lips parted slightly, as if to say something, but only a broken whisper came out. “I feel... so weak. Like I’m barely holding on.”

Vic crouched beside him, eyes scanning Kellin’s trembling frame. “I know. You don’t have to pretend. It’s okay to be scared.”

“I’m scared, Vic.”

Vic nodded, not pressing him for more. “Good. That’s okay. You should be. This is fucked up, and it’s hard. But I’m here. You’re not alone in this.”

Kellin blinked, swallowing the lump in his throat. The ache in his limbs pulsed, but the warmth from Vic’s presence steadied him slightly.

“Come on,” Vic said, holding out a hand. “Let’s get you out of this cold before you freeze.”

Kellin hesitated for only a second before letting Vic pull him up. His legs wobbled beneath him, unsteady from the shift and the pain, but Vic kept a firm grip. Together, they made their way back to the car, Kellin leaning heavily against Vic as they walked. The forest around them was quiet except for the crunch of leaves underfoot and Kellin’s ragged breathing. Vic opened the car door and helped Kellin inside, then slid into the driver’s seat. Kellin closed his eyes for a moment, leaning back against the seat, trying to collect himself. Vic started the engine and pulled smoothly onto the road, eyes on the path ahead but his thoughts fixed firmly on the fragile figure beside him.

Vic kept his eyes on the road but glanced over at Kellin, whose fingers nervously twisted the hem of the hoodie. “Hey... what happened back there? You’re over an hour from home, in the middle of nowhere, with no car. That’s not exactly a casual stroll.”

Kellin swallowed hard, voice rough. “It… it got bad. My dad. We fought. He... I couldn’t handle it. I-” His breath hitched. “I shifted. It was sudden, and I didn’t mean to. It just took over.”

Vic’s jaw tightened. “Shifting like that, alone? That’s dangerous. You could’ve gotten hurt, or worse.”

Kellin’s eyes darkened with frustration and exhaustion. “I know. I didn’t have a choice. He was screaming at me, saying I’m a fuck-up, that I’m nothing but some burden. It broke something in me. My wolf just snapped, and I ran.”

Vic nodded slowly, the pieces clicking into place. “So you ran here… to the mountains. The only place you thought might be safe.”

Kellin gave a bitter laugh, voice barely above a whisper. “Safe? I don’t know. But it’s quieter than the house.”

Vic kept driving, heart heavy. “You don’t have to face that alone, Kellin. You’ve got people who want to help. People who care.”

Kellin glanced out the window, the tension in his body easing just a little. “I’m scared, Vic. Scared of what I am, what I might become.”

Vic reached out, a steadying hand on Kellin’s arm. “That’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to keep fighting.”

Kellin let out a shaky breath. “Thanks... for coming.”

Vic glanced over, voice gentle but firm. “Do you need somewhere to stay tonight? You can crash at my place if you want.”

Kellin hesitated, biting his lip. “I was thinking… maybe Justin’s. He’s been... looking out for me.”

Vic nodded. “Yeah, I figured. He called me earlier, said he was worried.”

Kellin swallowed hard, eyes flickering down. “But… I don’t know if my parents have cut me off or if they’re even looking for me anymore. I feel like I’m stuck somewhere in between.”

His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “Can I... stay with you? At least for now?”

Vic’s expression softened, no judgment there. “Of course. You’re not alone in this, Kellin. You’ve got me.”

Kellin’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Thanks. That means more than I can say.”

Vic reached over and squeezed his arm lightly. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

Chapter Text

Vic unlocked his apartment door with one hand, glancing over his shoulder at the quiet figure trailing a few paces behind him. Kellin looked wrecked, wearing the baggy sweats Vic had dug out of his back seat. The clothes hung loose, making him look smaller somehow, more fragile, but Vic wasn’t going to say that out loud. The door clicked shut behind them, muffling the city noise, and Vic stepped into the living room, dropping his keys into the dish by the door. Kellin lingered near the threshold, eyes flicking around the place like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be here.  Vic padded toward the couch, dropping onto it with a muted sigh. The day had been too long already, but he wasn’t about to push Kellin to talk before he was ready.

Kellin followed slowly, the hesitant scuff of his socked feet on carpet loud in the otherwise quiet apartment. “Hey,” he said after a beat, “could we maybe order something? I haven’t eaten since-” His words cut off abruptly, replaced by a frown. His hands went to his pockets, patting at them like he was checking for a phantom item.

Vic tilted his head. “What?”

“Shit,” Kellin muttered. “I left my wallet at Justin’s.” 

Vic didn’t hesitate. “Then I’ll pay.”

Kellin’s head snapped up, almost defensive. “I didn’t- I wasn’t asking you to-”

“Yeah, I know,” Vic interrupted, his voice even. He wasn’t in the mood to dance around pride when Kellin was clearly running on fumes. “But you’re hungry, and I’m ordering food. So pick something.”

Kellin stood there for a moment longer, like the idea of letting someone do something for him was a fight he had to win. But then his stomach growled loud enough to answer for him, and Vic just raised an eyebrow until Kellin looked away. Vic leaned over and snagged his phone off the coffee table, unlocking it and opening up a food delivery app. He scrolled lazily, glancing up at Kellin, who still hadn’t sat down. The werewolf was hovering near the edge of the couch like he’d been caught in a trap and didn’t know whether to gnaw his leg off or bolt.

“You gonna stand there all night?” Vic asked, his tone casual, not looking up from the screen.

Kellin shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyes darting toward the door and back. “I just… I don’t want to-”

“To what?” Vic prompted, scrolling past pizza joints and burger places.

Kellin’s mouth pulled into a thin line. “…I don’t want to take from you.”

Vic set the phone down and looked at him properly. “You’re not taking. I’m offering. There’s a difference.”

The silence between them stretched again, Kellin’s shoulders tightening like the words were a physical weight pressing down. His wolf’s presence was obvious even without supernatural senses, the way his pupils stayed a fraction too wide, the restless anxious shifting, the faint way his nostrils flared every time Vic moved. It was the posture of someone half in another skin.

“Alright, let’s make this easy. What does the wolf want?”

Kellin blinked. “…What?”

“You heard me,” Vic said, scrolling again. “Don’t think about what you want. Think about what he wants. Your ‘inner wolf’ pacing in the back of your head- that’s what he’s called right?”

Kellin’s jaw tightened, and for a second, Vic thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then Kellin looked down at the floor. “…Meat. A lot of it.”

“Alright. That narrows it down.” Vic’s thumb flicked past salads and pasta until he hit a steakhouse. “How about some ribeye? Medium rare? And maybe some mashed potatoes.”

Kellin’s head tilted slightly, the kind of movement Vic had learned meant the wolf was close to the surface. “Medium rare,” he echoed, voice low.

Vic nodded, selecting it. “And sides? You want greens, fries, bread?”

The wolf clearly didn’t care about sides, but Kellin hesitated like choosing wrong might be some kind of trap. “Fries. And maybe… mac and cheese?”

“Fries, and mac and cheese it is.” Vic tapped the screen, adding extras without a word.

Kellin shifted again while rubbing his arm, looking anywhere but Vic. The discomfort rolled off him in waves, he was uncomfortable not just at the idea of accepting help, but at having his needs so plainly catered to. Vic could almost hear the internal protest: This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Wolves take care of themselves. Wolves don’t lean on leeches.

Vic didn’t take it personally. He’d been around Kellin enough to know his stubborn pride, pushing would only make it worse. “Drink?” he asked simply.

“…Coke.”

Vic ordered that too, hitting checkout before Kellin could think of a reason to back out. The moment it was done, the werewolf’s shoulders sagged just slightly. “You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah,” Vic said, leaning back into the couch, “and you didn’t have to look like you were gonna pass out if I didn’t.”

Kellin shot him a glare for that, but it lacked teeth. Vic set his phone down, the order confirmed, and leaned back into the couch. The TV was off, the room quiet except for the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen. Kellin hadn’t moved from his spot a couple steps away, like sitting down would be some kind of commitment. It was only when Vic glanced at the clock on the wall, it was glowing at 2:47 AM. Right. Weekend. Saturday night, which meant every food place in the city was dragging under a flood of orders. No wonder the app had given him the longest possible ETA.

“Bad news,” he said, gesturing at the phone. “It’s Saturday- past 2 am, vamps are awake. Which means half the city’s also ordering dinner right now. They’re saying it’s gonna take… at least an hour.”

Kellin made a small sound - not quite a groan, not quite a sigh - and finally let himself drop onto the far end of the couch. He slouched, staring at the coffee table like the grain in the wood had personally offended him.

Vic watched him for a beat, then shrugged. “Sorry for the wait. I don’t really… eat human food much, so I forget about this stuff. Thought I was doing you a favor by ordering from a good place, but…”

“It’s fine,” Kellin cut in, though his tone was more automatic than sincere.

Vic smirked faintly. “Sure. Because I totally believe you’re not about to starve to death in my living room.”

That earned him a side-eye, but no comeback. The werewolf’s pride kept him quiet, but his fidgeting gave him away, glancing at the clock like staring might make the delivery driver materialize faster. A quick silence settled between them, the kind that wasn’t quite comfortable but also wasn’t loud enough to force either of them to fill it. Kellin was half-sunken into the couch now, one knee drawn up, with a thumb absently rubbing at his ripped hoodie sleeve. Vic studied him for a second, weighing the thought before letting it out. “So… about last night.”

The shift in Kellin was immediate. His whole body went rigid, like the words had dropped a bucket of ice water on his head. His jaw tightened, and his eyes flicked away finding a blank spot on the far wall to stare at. For just a second, his face shifted into something else, not fear exactly, but an emotion that made Vic’s chest tighten.

Vic’s voice softened. “Hey… sorry. I shouldn’t push.”

Kellin shook his head once, a small, stubborn motion. “No. You-” His voice cracked, and he shut his eyes, like bracing for impact from his own thoughts. “You’re gonna find out eventually anyway. I mentioned most of it earlier.”

Vic leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, giving him the space to either speak or stay quiet. “Only if you want me to.”

But Kellin kept going, shoulders curling inward as though the memory itself was pressing down on him. Kellin’s nails dug into the fabric of his sleeve as he spoke, voice low and rough. “I went home yesterday afternoon.”

Vic’s brow furrowed slightly. “To your parents’ right? I remember you kinda mentioning it.”

“Yeah.” Kellin let out a bitter laugh that had no real humor behind it. “Big mistake.”

His gaze stayed locked on the floor, his words starting slow but picking up momentum as if the dam had cracked. He was finally stable enough to start recalling events properly. “My mom was on me the second I stepped onto the porch… asking if I’d been with vampires again, saying I smelled like the undead, telling me I’m ruining the family name. Like I-” He broke off, his throat working as he swallowed. “Like I’m a problem they just… can’t scrub clean.”

Vic’s jaw tightened, but he stayed quiet, letting him talk.

“Then my dad…” Kellin’s voice dropped further, wounded speech curling beneath the syllables. “He yelled. No.. he screamed. About my degree, about me wasting my life, about me being the only son they had and turning out to be a fuck-up.” His shoulders shook once, whether from anger or the aftershock of it, Vic couldn’t tell.

“What happened then?” Vic’s tone was careful, but it still made Kellin’s eyes flick toward him with something almost like warning.

“I lost it,” Kellin said simply, but his hand clenched tighter. “The wolf just took over. I didn’t even mean to shift, but my body was done listening to me. Everything hurt, I felt like shit from going cold turkey still. It was like my bones were trying to tear themselves apart and my head…” He winced, eyes glazing for a moment. “When I came back to myself, I was already halfway to Julian. Guess my wolf decided we were done with my parents.”

Vic exhaled slowly, watching him. “That’s why you were out there. I know you mentioned it, but I was scared to push.”

Kellin nodded once, the motion jerky. “I didn’t… I didn’t know where else to go.” His voice cracked again, quieter now. “And I wasn’t sure if I’d even be allowed back home.”

Vic leaned back against the arm of the couch, watching Kellin carefully. His voice, when he spoke, was softer than before, there was less of the edge he usually carried when they talked. “You know,” Vic said, “I meant what I said earlier. You can stay here if you need to. No strings.” He hesitated for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly like he was making himself push through the rest. “I know we’ve… never exactly liked each other. Not really. Not before all this.”

Kellin’s mouth twitched, not quite into a smile, but not into a full scowl either. Vic gave a faint shrug, something almost self-deprecating crossing his face. “But after everything… I don’t know. I guess I’ve tolerated you enough that I… kinda like you now.” The way he said it was just dry enough to almost pass for a joke, but there was a thread of truth running through it that neither of them missed.

Kellin’s eyes dropped closed at that, as if the weight of everything was suddenly too much to look at head-on. His chest rose and fell, once, twice, three times.. each breath deeper than the last. Vic stayed quiet, but he studied him. Not in the way he usually did, where he looked for tells in him to figure out if he wanted to kick his ass, but in the way someone watches a person try to keep themselves from unraveling.

“I’m sure,” Vic said finally, his voice slow, “if it really came down to it… you’d do the same for me.”

That made Kellin open his eyes again. He didn’t reply, and Vic didn’t press because the thing echoing loudest in his own head wasn’t Kellin’s silence. It was what Kellin had said earlier that night. The words had been fuzzy, slurred from exhaustion, dropped into the air between them like he hadn’t even meant to let them escape.
I think I love you.

Vic hadn’t reacted then, not really. He just filed it away because it had been too raw, and the state Kellin was in made it impossible to know if he’d even remember saying it. Looking at him now, Vic was almost sure Kellin didn’t. That was fine. It was better for now. Vic wasn’t sure what he would have said back. But as Kellin sat there breathing deep, grounding himself, Vic realized something else: the fact that the wolf had run here to him when everything collapsed and he just accepted with open arms… that was already its own kind of answer.

Kellin’s shoulders eased, the tension unspooling in careful increments. It was subtle, the way his posture stopped looking like he was ready to bolt, the way his hands stopped fidgeting against the couch cushion.

“So,” Vic said after a pause, “the chest aches… are they still bad?”

Kellin’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t shut down at the question. “They’re… less than earlier. Still feels like I’ve been running on fumes since yesterday, though.”

Vic nodded slowly. “And the headaches?”

“They come and go.” Kellin glanced away like admitting it made him feel weak. “It’s worse when I’m… too close to certain people.”

“Your parents,” Vic guessed, one corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk.

Kellin gave him a look that wasn’t quite hostile but definitely wasn’t warm either. “Sometimes,” he muttered. “Sometimes it’s just stress.”

Vic hummed, leaning back a little. “So, me asking about it probably isn’t helping.”

Kellin’s lips twitched like he might have almost smiled. “Not really.”

That tiny thread of humor, however frayed, was enough to make Vic ease too. The conversation kept going, slow and even, but they were talking without the usual minefield between them. Kellin admitted to trouble sleeping, to waking up mid-shift some nights without realizing it, to the constant push-pull between his body and his mind. Vic listened without interrupting, only asking questions that kept him talking. Kellin’s voice was low but steady now, and for the first time since Vic had picked him up, he looked like he wasn’t bracing for impact. Then the door buzzer went off. Vic finally noticed the morning light that began to filter through the blackout curtains. Kellin startled slightly, shoulders tensing again. Vic was already standing. “That’s the food,” Vic said, crossing the room in a few steps.

The sound of him unlatching the door filled the silence, followed by the murmur of exchange with the delivery guy and the rustle of paper bags. The smell hit almost immediately and Kellin whined quietly like a lost puppy out of hunger and instinct. Vic set the bags down on the coffee table, glancing back at Kellin. He tried to ignore the noise that escaped Kellin’s lips, but the light blush at his cheeks said he noticed as he handed Kellin his food. The first bite of food was a small relief, the warm flavors grounding Kellin in a way he hadn’t felt in days. Vic sat across from him on the couch, unwrapping a container of grilled potatoes with a careful focus that made Kellin chuckle softly.

“So,” Vic said, picking up a piece with his fork, “what’s your go-to binge show when you’re not, you know, trying to survive the drama?”

Kellin glanced up, surprised at the shift from heavy to casual. For a moment, he hesitated, chewing slowly as if tasting the food helped him find the right answer.

“I’m not much for TV, honestly,” Kellin admitted. “But I did get really into ‘Breaking Bad’ last year.”

Vic grinned. “Yeah, that show’s a classic. I got hooked on ‘The Office’ a few years back and binged it.”

Kellin’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. “Not really my style.”

“You’d probably deny that if you ever had to spend a night with Tony and Jaime,” Vic teased, popping a piece of rare steak into his mouth.

Kellin shook his head. “I don’t think I’m built for that kind of cringe. I’m more… I dunno.”

“Maybe you’re just waiting for the right show.”

Kellin gave a dry laugh. “Or maybe I’m just waiting for the right company.”

Vic’s expression softened in a way Kellin wasn’t used to, like there was something beneath the usual sarcasm that meant he was genuinely interested. “You mean me?”

Kellin looked away, biting the inside of his cheek, cheeks flushing faintly. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Vic chuckled. “Fair.”

They ate in companionable silence for a moment, the scent of food filling the room with comfort. Then Vic pushed off the couch and grabbed the remote, flicking the TV on in the process.

“Alright,” he said, “since you don’t have much of a TV history, I’m gonna expose you to some real classics. Ever seen ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’?”

Kellin raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a vampire thing. Should I get ready to be offended?”

Vic grinned. “No, it’s actually about vampires being the bad guys. You’d probably appreciate the werewolf guest stars.”

Kellin rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth lifted again into a smile. “Fine. But if it’s cheesy, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” Vic said, settling back on the couch.

As the opening credits rolled, Kellin found himself relaxing more. The light banter between the characters on screen was a stark contrast to the heaviness of his recent days, and for the first time, he allowed himself to be pulled into something that didn’t feel like a survival tactic.

“So,” Vic said after a few minutes, “what’s something you’re actually into? Music, books, anything.”

Kellin thought for a second, then shrugged. “I’m not great at hobbies, I think. Mostly I read, but it’s usually academic stuff.”

Vic raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a total nerd thing.”

“Maybe,” Kellin admitted. “But I like reading, it’s a good way to escape reality.”

Vic nodded slowly . “I get that. I’m a music guy, my friends Tony and Jaime, they’re huge into it too. We basically live for the next concert.”

Kellin’s interest sparked just a little. “What kind of music?”

Vic shrugged. “Everything, but mostly rock and indie. My all-time favorite band is Cage The Elephant.”

Kellin blinked, surprised. “Never heard of them.”

Vic laughed. “You gotta fix that. You’d probably like some of the newer stuff.”

Kellin’s lips parted, a flicker of curiosity softening his guarded expression. “Maybe. I could use something new.”

They fell into an easy rhythm, trading favorite artists and bands. Vic told stories about concerts that ended in chaos, about friends who’d thrown impromptu house parties that felt like underground festivals by the end of the night, about casually jamming with Tony and Jaime. Kellin, in turn, shared bits about the quiet hours spent pouring over dusty books, the way the smell of old paper felt like a blessing. Vic listened as he talked about how he would go out to clubs with Justin, and that he liked going to raves with Jeremy, but he mostly really liked quiet nights in his home the best. Between bites, their conversation meandered to movies and TV shows again. The hours slipped by unnoticed, the food dwindling down to crumbs and empty containers. Vic’s presence was steady, patient, like an anchor in the storm of Kellin’s chaotic thoughts.

At one point, Kellin shifted uncomfortably, rubbing his arm as if trying to ease some invisible ache. Vic’s gaze flickered to him with concern, but he said nothing, waiting for Kellin to speak if he wanted. Instead, Kellin exhaled slowly and finally looked up. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

Vic raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For… this. Not pushing too hard. Just… being here.”

Vic shrugged, trying to play it cool but failing to hide the warmth in his eyes. Kellin’s mouth twitched into a small smile, eyes closing as he took a deep breath. The weight in his chest eased a little, the ache fading to a dull hum. Vic studied him for a moment longer, remembering the fuzzy admission Kellin had made earlier that night. Kellin stretched out on the couch, eyes heavy but peaceful for the first time in a long while. Vic noticed it before he could stop himself: Kellin had scooted closer on the couch during the previous episode of Buffy. It wasn’t a sudden move, but a slow, almost unconscious inching, like a moth drawn quietly to a flame. Vic’s eyes flicked down, catching the subtle shift of Kellin’s body leaning in his direction. The dim glow of the TV flickered across Kellin’s face, his eyes growing heavier with every passing minute. As the opening theme played again, Kellin’s head dipped slowly until it came to rest on Vic’s shoulder. His breathing evened out, soft and steady. Without hesitation, Vic wrapped his arm around Kellin’s shoulders drawing him gently closer. The warmth of his touch seemed to ground Kellin, and in response, he nuzzled against Vic’s side, his tired voice barely more than a whisper. “Thank you.”

Vic didn’t say anything, just held him there, letting the silence speak the words they both needed. Vic stayed still for a long moment, feeling Kellin’s steady breaths against his shoulder. Slowly, the tension in Kellin’s body melted away as sleep took hold, his eyelids fluttering shut. Vic’s gaze softened as he realized Kellin had finally surrendered to rest, a rare and precious thing.

Careful not to disturb him, Vic shifted slightly, gently lifting Kellin off his shoulder. Despite being shorter, Vic cradled Kellin’s frame like it was second nature, supporting him firmly but tenderly. Kellin’s limbs relaxed completely, trusting without question.

Vic carried him through the quiet apartment, the paused Buffy episode fading into Roku City behind them. He reached his bedroom, lowered Kellin onto the bed with the utmost care and pulled the blankets up around him. Kellin’s chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm, his face serene in sleep. Just as Vic turned to leave, Kellin’s hand stirred, weak but purposeful. His fingers curled around Vic’s wrist, holding on tightly. With a sleepy voice, Kellin whispered, “Stay…”

Vic paused, heart tightening at the vulnerability. “I’m not going anywhere,” he replied softly, settling down beside Kellin and letting the wolf snuggle up next to him.

Chapter Text

Vic lay awake beside Kellin, the poor wolf having been asleep since 9 am the previous day, the quiet of the apartment punctuated only by Kellin’s soft, even breathing. The TV screen in the living room glowed faintly, paused on the final moments of the Buffy episode from the night before, still rotating through that cityscape. Vic was too scared to move, he just laid doom scrolling while Kellin rolled around next to him, using his chest and arm as a pillow. Outside, the city slept, but inside, time seemed to stretch infinitely. Vic glanced at the clock on the bedside table: 3:07 a.m. 

Most vampires didn’t have trouble with late nights, they were nocturnal creatures by nature. Vic’s own circadian rhythm had adapted over decades, and nights like this, where the city was cloaked in darkness, usually brought him energy and clarity, tonight his mind was restless and circling back to Kellin. Over, and over. Kellin was out cold, he’s been asleep for over 12 hours, chest rising and falling with an ease Vic hadn’t seen in days. The weariness etched into his features finally softened as he slept, but Vic knew this fragile peace wouldn’t last forever. Kellin’s body was still raw, haunted by the turmoil of his wolf and the scars of his family’s trauma. And Vic couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to do something more than just offer comfort and a couch to crash on.

The thought hit him suddenly, and he sat up, careful not to wake Kellin. The bed creaked beneath him as he swung his legs over the side, feet finding the worn carpet. The apartment felt colder now, shadows stretching along the walls as the pale moonlight spilled in through the windows. Vic rubbed his hands together and reached for his phone. He started scrolling through apps, mentally making a list as he thought back to the posts he read on Lone Wolf Syndrome earlier in the week, Kellin needed more than just a place to sleep. He needed nourishment, routine, and stability, things Vic had taken for granted for ages but were painfully absent in Kellin’s life. With a decisive breath, Vic got to his feet and padded softly toward the door. He paused at Kellin’s bedside, watching the way Kellin’s eyelashes fluttered briefly, but sleep held him firm. “I’ll be back soon,” Vic murmured as he slipped his vans on.

The city outside was still, the streets empty and quiet, save for the occasional distant siren or car passing through. Vic made his way to his car, a beat-up reliable Toyota Corolla parked in the underground garage. He had learned to appreciate its simplicity and stealth over flashy rides. As he started the engine, his mind was already running through the stores that might still be open, the hours they closed, the snacks and essentials Kellin might need. The grocery store was a few miles away, but Vic was used to these late-night drives. He felt alive during these solitary hours. He pulled into the parking lot, almost deserted at this hour, and grabbed a cart. The fluorescent lights inside buzzed softly as Vic began his rounds, picking up bottled water, meat, fruits and vegetables that Kellin could nibble on when appetite struck, some simple protein bars, and herbal tea to soothe.

As he wandered the aisles, Vic’s mind flicked back to their conversations earlier. Kellin’s struggles with his body, his pack, and his family were a tangle of pain and fear. The loneliness that clung to him like a second skin was part of that Lone Wolf Syndrome Vic had read so much about. Vic paused at the frozen foods section, debating whether to grab something more substantial. He thought about the nights when Kellin’s illness might flare up again, the exhaustion that would follow. He needed to make sure Kellin had something warm and easy to eat when that happened. Vic’s thoughts drifted to himself. He wasn’t perfect; he had his own scars and fears, hidden beneath layers of sarcasm but maybe he could be an anchor for Kellin. A steady presence in the storm. Vic’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, eyes scanning the screen.

No new messages. Only a random email. Still, the silence from Kellin was heavy. Vic typed out a quick message:

Vic:

I’m getting you some food. Anything you want? No pressure.

He waited a moment, but no reply came. He shrugged it off, Kellin was asleep, and that was enough.

By the time Vic made it back to his apartment, bags in hand, the city was quieter than ever. He unpacked the groceries with a careful, deliberate calm, setting everything neatly on the counter. There were fresh apples, bananas, a small pack of rice and beans, some herbal teas, and a few comfort snacks like chocolate and granola bars. Vic smiled softly to himself. It’s not exactly a feast, but hopefully enough to show Kellin that someone cared.

He checked on Kellin again, who remained curled under the blankets, peaceful for now. Vic’s eyes lingered on the slight rise and fall of his chest, the way his jaw relaxed in sleep. The vulnerability of the moment settled deep inside Vic’s chest, tightening and warming all at once.

He settled back on the couch with a mug of blood infused green tea turning on another Buffy episode, waiting for dawn and whatever the new day might bring. His phone buzzed suddenly, breaking the silence. He glanced at the screen and saw a message from Justin.

Justin: 

Hey man, you got Kellin with you?

Vic’s fingers hovered over the keyboard before he replied.

yeah, he’s here just got some food 4 him. He’s sleeping now, but I’m keeping an eye on him.

There was a pause before Justin responded.

Good. I’ve been worried sick. 

Vic frowned.

Im doing what I can. he’s scared but he’s here & safe. i think he’s starting 2 trust that some1’s got his back.

Justin’s reply came quick.

That’s huge. He’s been shutting everyone out, even me. I’m around, we’ve got to help him find his footing again.

Vic leaned forward, typing carefully.

Yeah. i want 2 be there for him, im trying 2 be patient.

That’s the only way. Keep at it. If he shifts or acts up again, call me immediately okay? I can come fast.

Vic smiled faintly.

Will do. Thx Justin. We r in ts together.

Vic sat in the dim glow of his living room, the familiar theme song looped quietly as he nursed the last of his now-cold tea. Early morning had long since passed, but vampires rarely needed sleep. Still, his eyes felt heavy after watching episode after episode with only the occasional glance at the motionless form of Kellin on the bed through the open bedroom door.

Suddenly, a sharp, raw cry pierced the quiet. Vic nearly spilled his tea as Kellin’s voice shattered the calm air. Vic reacted quickly, the screen on the TV paused immediately.

“Shit,” Vic muttered, setting the cup down. Kellin was already moving, staggering up, breath ragged, eyes wild with lingering fear. Vic stood quickly and crossed the room just as Kellin stumbled into the living room, wiping tears from his face. 

“Hey,” Vic said softly, stepping close but careful not to crowd him. “You okay?”

Kellin snapped his head toward him, eyes flashing with irritation. “Don’t… don’t baby me, Vic. I’m fine.”

Vic raised his hands in surrender, his voice soft as he spoke. “I’m not trying to baby you. Just thought you needed someone.”

Kellin took a deep breath, still shaking slightly. “I don’t need anyone,” he snapped, voice cracking a little. “I’m not some kid.”

Vic’s gaze softened but stayed firm. “You’re not. But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”

Kellin looked away, his jaw clenched. The silence between them thickened for a moment, raw and fragile. Kellin’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “I hate feeling like this.”

Vic nodded, understanding more than words could say. “I know.”

He moved closer and reached out, lightly brushing Kellin’s arm. Kellin flinched but didn’t pull away. “Tell me what you saw,” Vic said quietly.

Kellin’s eyes glazed as the memory was hazy. “It’s all mixed up... My dad yelling, the fight, the shift… everything breaking apart. I couldn’t control it. It wasn’t me.”

Vic’s heart tightened. “But you’re still you.”

Kellin shook his head. His voice cracked again, tears spilling over. “I’m so tired, Vic.”

Without thinking, Vic stepped forward and gently pulled Kellin into a hug. Kellin stiffened for a moment but then melted against him, his body trembling. The walls Kellin built around himself began to crumble if only for a moment.

“I’m here,” Vic murmured. 

Kellin’s arms tightened around him, voice muffled in Vic’s hoodie. “Please stay.”

Vic held him, steady and patient, letting Kellin lean on him as long as he needed. Kellin slowly stepped back from Vic’s embrace, wiping at the dampness on his cheeks as if trying to erase the evidence of his momentary vulnerability. He swallowed hard, the weight of raw emotion still pressing in his chest, and cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” Kellin muttered, his voice rough. “I don’t usually do that.”

Vic gave him a small, understanding smile, the kind that said ‘It’s okay’ without needing words. “Hey, don’t apologize. You needed it.”

Kellin shifted awkwardly, glancing down at the floor. “Thanks. For not making a big deal out of it.”

Vic rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I went grocery shopping earlier, by the way. Thought you might need some food.”

Kellin raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flickering in his tired eyes. “You did? That’s… actually kind of thoughtful.”

Vic shrugged, trying to play it cool but clearly pleased. “Yeah, well, heads up though.. my fridge might leave a little metallic taste on everything. Blood can get a bit… seep-y. Sorry about that.”

Kellin cracked a tired smile. “No worries.”

They shared a quiet moment, the lingering tension easing just a little as the faint hum of the city brunch time filtered through the apartment windows. Despite everything, Vic’s gesture felt simple, practical, but filled with care.

“Want me to show you what I got?” Vic asked, already moving toward the small kitchen, he was desperate not to have Kellin crying again.

Kellin nodded, following behind, still feeling the warmth from the hug wrapped around him.

Vic opened the fridge, its hum filling the small kitchen as he started pulling out the bags he’d brought. "Alright, so I tried to get a mix of stuff… some easy-to-make things and some you can just snack on if your wolf’s not cooperating."

He laid out the contents on the counter: fresh fruit, oatmeal packets, eggs, some yogurt, and a small container of chicken. "Got you some protein too. I know you guys like meat."

Kellin leaned against the counter, eyes scanning the spread. "Wow, you actually did all this? I forgot vampires have a secret knack for being domestic."

Vic grinned, holding up a carton of eggs. "Hey, you think I just drink blood and brood all day? I’ve got my moments."

Kellin smirked. "Yeah, moments between centuries of staring at walls."

Vic laughed softly, then grew more serious. "I can whip up something quick for you before I hit the hay, if you want."

Kellin raised an eyebrow, amused. "Right, because vampires sleep weird.. I keep forgetting your circadian rhythm is completely messed up."

Vic shook his head with a mock sigh. "I do sleep weird, it’s more like... strategic napping."

Kellin chuckled. "Strategic napping, huh?"

Vic started cracking eggs into a pan, the sizzle filling the kitchen. "Exactly. Now sit down and let me take care of you."

Kellin settled onto a stool, watching Vic move around the kitchen with ease. Despite the past few night’s chaos, this small routine was grounding to Kellin, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, things could get better. Vic slid the eggs around in the pan, glancing up at Kellin with a crooked grin. “So, hypothetically, if you weren’t… you know… fighting and running from family drama, what would you be doing on a Saturday morning?”

Kellin shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sleeping until noon, probably. Or at Justin’s, pretending we’re gonna work on school stuff and then just playing Xbox for eight hours.”

Vic chuckled, grabbing a plate from the cupboard. “Ah, the academic grind. Very productive.”

“Hey,” Kellin shot back with a smirk, “some of us picked a degree we actually like. Not everyone wants to spend eternity brooding at home or working on the dead.”

Vic slid the eggs onto the plate, smirking. “Touché. But for the record, my place is atmospheric. Not all vampires are goths, I used to be scene back in the day.”

“Atmospheric is just code for dim lighting and a questionable couch.” Kellin leaned his chin into his hand, watching Vic reach for the bread. “When’s the last time you actually had a normal breakfast?”

Vic paused, setting the bread in the toaster. “Honestly? I don’t know, blood doesn’t exactly pair well with orange juice- so it’s usually pancakes for dipping but that's really it.”

Kellin wrinkled his nose, half amused, half grossed out. “You’re so casual about that, it’s kind of alarming.”

Vic handed him the plate of eggs with a grin. “If I had to be dramatic every time I mentioned the blood thing, I’d never get through the day. Eat before it gets cold.”

Kellin took the plate, muttering a quiet thanks before digging in. “You’re actually a decent cook, you know.”

Vic leaned against the counter, watching him eat. “I’ve picked up a few tricks. I used to make breakfast for my brother before school.”

That caught Kellin off guard. “You have a brother?”

Vic nodded, gaze softening for a moment. “Had. A long time ago.”

Kellin studied him for a beat, the weight in Vic’s voice not lost on him. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Vic offered a small smile. “Thanks. Maybe another time.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the pop of the toaster. Kellin looked up from his plate, startled by the sudden noise and then immediately relaxing again. “You know, for someone I used to think was just an arrogant vampire asshole, you’re… not bad company.”

Vic smirked. “Careful, Kellin. You’re starting to sound like you tolerate me.”

Kellin pointed his fork at him. “Don’t push it.”

Vic just laughed, handing him the toast. “Yeah, yeah. Eat up, wolf boy.”

Kellin took a bite of it, chewing thoughtfully before leaning back in his chair. “Okay… so I gotta ask. How old are you really?”

Vic arched a brow, taking a sip of his tea and sitting next to Kellin at the island. “What, trying to figure out if I’m ancient enough to be your great-great-grandfather?”

Kellin smirked. “I just remember learning that vampires age, like, five times slower than humans and werewolves. So you could look twenty-something and actually be pushing eighty.”

Vic set his mug down, lips twitching. “Close, but not quite. My 98th birthday was a few months ago. Which, in vampire years, is still pretty young. I’m practically 25, so that’s what my id says since the rest of the world goes on human time.”

Kellin tilted his head, curiosity sparking. “So… your parents? You are tan for an North American vampire…”

Vic shook his head. “My mother and father were turned humans, both are of Mexican descent. Somehow I still came out full vampire.” He gave a faint shrug, as if it was just another strange quirk of the world. “Guess genetics like to mess with the rules sometimes.”

Kellin frowned slightly, processing that. “Huh. That’s weird.”

Vic chuckled. “Weird’s kind of my whole brand, remember?”

Kellin pointed his fork at him again. “Sounds like the universe cheated you out of a shot at sunbathing.”

“Please,” Vic scoffed lightly, "At least I have Mexican parents so I only burn if I don’t use SPF 300.”

Kellin huffed a laugh, shaking his head before going back to his eggs. “You’re such a contradiction, you know that?”

Vic leaned his elbows casually against the counter again, smirking. “And yet, here you are having breakfast in my kitchen.”

Kellin rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth tugged upward anyway. Kellin stabbed at the last of his eggs, glancing up at Vic. “So what about Tony, then?”

Vic paused mid-sip of his tea. “What about him?”

“I mean…” Kellin set his fork down. “I know he was turned in middle school. Does he age like a normal person?”

Vic gave a small hum. “Sort of. Tony’s… different. He’s never had human blood. So far, it looks like he just… ages gracefully. A little slower than humans, but not as slow as a full vampire.”

Kellin leaned back in his chair, arms crossing. “So he’s not immortal.”

“Not even close,” Vic said. “If nothing else gets to him first, I’d guess he’ll only have about half the normal lifespan of a full vampire. Maybe another 110 years from now, if he’s lucky.”

Kellin’s brow furrowed. “That’s… actually kind of sad.”

Vic gave a faint shrug. “It’s the trade-off. No human blood means no risk of losing control, but it also means no real regenerative longevity. His body still wears down over time, just slower than ours would.”

Kellin tapped his fingers on the table, thinking outloud. “Guess everyone’s got their curse in some way.”

Vic smirked faintly, though there was a hint of melancholy in it. “You’re not wrong.”

Vic sat back in his chair, quiet for just a little too long. His gaze wasn’t sharp, exactly, but there was a focus to it like he was studying Kellin in real time, weighing whether to say what he wanted to say.

Kellin noticed it immediately, though he didn’t let on. He’d learned to pretend he didn’t see the way people looked at him sometimes, like they were trying to solve him, like they thought they could even attempt to. He just kept eating, trying to focus on the taste of actual food for the first time in hours, even if it did have the faint metallic tang of Vic’s fridge.

But Vic didn’t look away.

“You really don’t remember, do you?” Vic finally said, his voice low but deliberate.

Kellin paused mid-bite, brows furrowing. “Remember what?”

There was a moment where Vic’s eyes softened, not with pity, but with something heavier. He leaned forward just slightly, elbows resting on the table like he was grounding himself. “You were… not in good shape before you slept.  When I found you in the clearing, barely able to stand?”

“I kind of remember it, it’s fuzzy. What about it?”

Vic hesitated, like saying it aloud might change something. “You said something to me.”

Kellin blinked at him, confusion still etched across his face. “What did I say?”

Vic’s mouth twitched, he wasn’t smirking, but there was something careful about the way he was holding himself back. “You told me you thought you loved me.”

For a second, the words didn’t register. They just hung there, floating in the air between them. Kellin stared at him, completely blank, like his brain had just been unplugged.

And then it hit.

It was in his chest first, a quick, hard thump of his heart, and then the heat spread across his face so fast it felt like he’d been set on fire. His stomach twisted violently. He wished Vic had punched him instead. That would’ve been easier to deal with.

“Shit,” Kellin breathed, voice almost too soft to hear. “I-” He broke off, setting down his fork a little too fast. The clatter of metal on ceramic felt too loud in the suddenly heavy room.

Vic didn’t fill the silence.

“I didn’t-” Kellin tried again, then stopped. “I don’t remember saying that.” He laughed once, sharp and humorless, and dragged a hand over his face like maybe he could hide behind it.

Still, Vic didn’t look away.

“I mean, I… obviously I was out of it. I don’t…” He shook his head, words fraying apart. “God, that’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing,” Vic said finally, voice softer now.

“It is,” Kellin shot back without looking up. His ears were burning, and it felt like every inch of him was betraying how badly he wanted to sink into the floor.

He finally dropped his hand from his face, staring down at the table. “Sorry. I’m just… I’m not used to this.” His voice was quieter now, like he was saying it to the table instead of Vic. “People caring. Not unless they’re…” He trailed off, but the end of the sentence was obvious.

Vic leaned forward a little more. “Unless they’re what?”

Kellin swallowed hard, jaw tightening. “Unless they’re using me.” The words came out flat, but not because he didn’t mean them. More like he meant them too much, and saying them any other way would’ve cracked his chest open. The air between them shifted then. Vic didn’t rush to fill it. He didn’t offer platitudes or tell Kellin he was wrong. He just… let it sit, heavy but not suffocating, like he understood the weight of it. Kellin hated that this was the first time in a long time he felt like someone wasn’t going to turn his words against him, and that the realization made his throat tight.

Vic finally broke the silence, his voice almost tentative. “So… even if you didn’t mean to say it….. does that mean it wasn’t true?”

Kellin’s head jerked up, eyes wide. “Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

Vic didn’t flinch. “Yeah. I am.”

Kellin’s mouth opened, but nothing came out at first. He looked away, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweats like he needed something to grip. “…That’s the dumbest fucking question you’ve ever asked me. Did you forget the past three days?”

Vic’s brows rose slightly, but there was no offense in his expression. It was something patient, something that almost looked like relief at hearing Kellin push back instead of shutting down. “I didn’t forget,” he said. “But you’ve been through hell, that’s why I asked. Sometimes people say things they don’t mean when they’re scared, or hurt.”

Kellin’s throat worked, but no words came. The worst part was, he did remember flashes now,  Vic’s voice, the cool air, the feeling of being held up when his body wanted to collapse. And he remembered the desperate need to cling to something safe, even if he barely understood why.

“I…” He shook his head, hating how his voice shook. “I didn’t mean to say it. Not like that. I just-” His chest rose and fell too quickly, like he was trying to get the words out before his courage broke. “I’m not used to people sticking around if they’re not getting something out of it. Justin… Justin’s the only one who’s never left. And you-” He broke off, then laughed bitterly. “Hell, even you and I hated each other until, what, last week?”

Vic’s eyes softened at that, but he didn’t interrupt.

Kellin exhaled hard, shoulders slumping. “I just… I’m not good at this. I don’t know how to handle it when someone actually… gives a shit. I get attached fast and hard.”

"I won't push you to define how you're feeling if you can't yet." Vic sat back, still watching him, but there was no judgment in his expression. It was just the steady, grounding patience that Kellin both hated and needed right now. Vic finally tore his gaze away when Kellin lowered his head and the slow, methodical way he was eating paused. He blinked, realizing the quiet hum of the refrigerator had become almost hypnotic. His body might not require sleep the way Kellin’s did, but after a full night and half a day of being on alert, a bone-deep ache for sleep was tugging at him. He let out a long, slow yawn, more out of habit than need and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“You’re gonna make me start thinking I’m the one who needs rest,” Vic muttered, pushing his chair back with a faint scrape against the tile. Kellin glanced up, mid-bite, brows furrowing just slightly at the sound of movement.

Vic hesitated a beat, studying him. Kellin’s face was still paler than usual, not in the vampiric sense but in the human exhaustion sense, his eyes shadowed and shoulders hunched like he was holding something in. “You good to… rest for a while?” Vic asked, his tone gentle but careful, like the wrong inflection might set off a fuse.

Kellin chewed slowly, swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah. I think I can.” His voice was low, not quite steady, but he didn’t meet Vic’s eyes when he said it.

Vic lingered there a moment longer, he settled for giving Kellin a small nod before heading toward his room, every step slower than it needed to be, as if part of him didn’t want to leave the werewolf alone in the kitchen. 

Vic pushed his bedroom door open with the slow ease of someone trying not to shatter the fragile calm that had settled between them. The soft light from the kitchen spilled in briefly before he closed it, casting the room into the low amber glow of his bedside lamp. He kicked off his shoes and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the headboard as if the weight of the past twenty-four hours was finally starting to catch up with him.

Kellin hovered near the doorway at first, one hand gripping the frame, his bare feet silent against the floor. He looked like he wasn’t sure if he was invited, like one wrong move would push him back out into the hallway.

Vic noticed and gave a small huff of breath, half exasperation, half something softer. He laid back against the pillows and opened his arms in a slow, deliberate gesture. “C’mere.”

Kellin blinked at him, uncertain. “I..” He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

Vic’s mouth curved faintly, the kind of look that wasn’t quite a smile but carried all the weight of I know you better than that. “It’s a great idea Kells,” he said. “You look like you’re gonna collapse again if you stay standing much longer. You must’ve just stopped hibernating to eat.”

The werewolf gave a reluctant snort, but it didn’t carry much resistance. His hesitation was visible in every step toward the bed, how he hovered near the side like he might change his mind last second. But Vic didn’t drop his arms. He stayed right there, quiet and patient, letting the silence coax Kellin in more than words could. Finally, Kellin let out a breath and sat down on the edge of the mattress. It dipped under his weight, and Vic didn’t waste any time, tugging him gently until he was leaning against him.

“You’re really not gonna let me fight you on this, huh?” Kellin muttered, though his voice had lost most of its bite.

“Not tonight,” Vic replied simply, settling an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in until Kellin’s head rested near the hollow of his collarbone.

They stayed like that for a moment, long enough for the rhythm of Kellin’s breathing to start syncing to Vic’s slower, steadier pace.

“What’re you gonna do tomorrow?” Vic asked after a stretch of quiet. “Since I’ve got work tonight after I crash for a while.”

Kellin made a small noise in his throat, somewhere between a hum and a sigh. “Dunno. Justin’ll probably want to know I’m alive. Might… I dunno… hang around here a bit if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” Vic said, his voice low but certain. “Could leave you the spare key if you want to come and go.”

That got a faint twitch of Kellin’s mouth, though his eyes were still closed. “Yeah. Guess I could do that.”

Vic kept absently running his thumb along the ridge of Kellin’s shoulder, not thinking about it until Kellin shifted under the touch. The werewolf let out a breath, like the tension in him was both loosening and doubling at the same time.

Then, without warning, Kellin lifted his head, his gaze flicking to Vic’s mouth before the thought seemed to barrel out of him in one breath. “Can I kiss you?”

The question hung there, startlingly direct.

Vic blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. But Kellin didn’t give him much of a chance to answer before his eyes widened slightly, the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck. “Shit- sorry. That was-”

Vic tilted his head, catching the way Kellin’s knee bounced once before he stilled it, his wolf clearly driving the impulse. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said evenly.

“No, I do,” Kellin said quickly, running a hand through his hair. “Sometimes my wolf just makes me a one-track mind about stuff. I wasn’t trying to-”

Vic smirked faintly, though his tone stayed calm. “You weren’t trying to what?”

Kellin let out a sharp exhale and sank back down against him, hiding his face in Vic’s shoulder like it would erase the moment entirely. “Make it weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Vic said after a beat. His arm tightened just slightly around Kellin’s shoulders. “It’s you.”

That got another breath from Kellin, this one slower and almost reluctant in how it eased out of him. They stayed like that, Vic leaning back against the headboard with Kellin tucked under his arm, the air between them charged but not uncomfortable.

“So,” Vic murmured eventually, “when I’m gone tonight, you thinking you’ll watch something? Or just lurk in my apartment like a cryptid until I get back?”

Kellin huffed, half-laughing against his shirt. “Might do both.”

“Mm. Thought so.”

The conversation wandered from there, small things, unimportant things, like whether Kellin should bother trying to finish the Buffy episodes without him, or if he’d get bored enough to go on a late-night walk around the block. The weight of what Kellin had almost acted on still lingered faintly between them, but neither seemed in a hurry to push it. Vic’s voice had gone soft and he went still. His thumb, which had been absently brushing along Kellin’s arm, froze.

He looked down at the werewolf tucked against him, his dark eyes steady. “You never kissed me.”

Kellin’s head tilted back slightly, startled by the abrupt shift. “What?”

“You asked if you could,” Vic said, the corners of his mouth barely twitching into something between curiosity and challenge. “But you never actually did.”

Kellin blinked, fumbling for a response. “You… you didn’t say yes.” His voice sounded too defensive for how quiet it was, like he already knew it was a flimsy excuse.

Vic’s expression softened, but there was a low pull of gravity in the way he spoke. “Then I’m saying it now.” A heart beat of a moment between his next words. “I need you to kiss me, Kellin.”

That broke whatever restraint the wolf had been holding onto. Kellin surged up before Vic could take another breath, pressing his mouth to his with a need that hit like lightning, sharp, hot, and impossible to ignore. It wasn’t tentative this time. There was no edge of caution, no careful testing of the waters. Kellin kissed him like he’d been starving for it, like every second of hesitation in the past had been a mistake he wasn’t going to repeat. His hands fisted lightly in the fabric of Vic’s shirt, pulling him closer, and Vic’s arm tightened around him in response, keeping him anchored while their mouths moved with growing urgency.

The heat between them built fast. Vic’s cool fingers sliding up into Kellin’s hair, Kellin deepening the kiss like he couldn’t get enough. There was a press of teeth, a rough exhale, and then the slow, addictive slide back into something softer, mouths still locked together but less frantic now, like they were savoring it instead of chasing it.

When Vic finally pulled back, both of them breathing harder than before, there was a faint, satisfied curve to his lips. He let his forehead rest lightly against Kellin’s for a moment.

“I really like you,” he said quietly, his voice carrying that rare unguarded warmth he almost never let out. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he leaned back against the pillows. “But if I don’t get at least a couple hours before my shift, I’m going to crash halfway through it.”

Kellin’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, though his eyes were still bright from the kiss. “Guess I’ll let you sleep then.”

Vic gave him one last look like he was filing away the image for later before closing his eyes and relaxing back into the bed, Kellin still warm against his side. “Night Kells.”

Chapter Text

Kellin woke slowly, the steady shuffle of movement pulling him out of a dream that had already slipped through his fingers. His eyes cracked open to find Vic moving around the bedroom, his long hair still a little mussed from sleep but his clothes neat and crisp. He was halfway through buttoning a dark shirt, the fabric catching faint glints of the overhead light as he adjusted the collar. For a second, Kellin just watched him, his head propped on the pillow. There was something oddly grounding about seeing Vic like this, hair pulled back, jaw set in quiet focus as he got ready for the night ahead. The scent of him still lingered heavily in the air but now it was mixed with the faintly herbal tang of whatever aftershave he’d just used.

“You’re up,” Vic said without looking away from the mirror. His voice was soft, like he didn’t want to shatter whatever fragile peace had settled between them.

“Yeah,” Kellin mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. His gaze drifted across the nightstand on Vic’s side of the bed, and something caught his attention, a slim, silver laptop, the lid closed but smudged faintly from use. “Hey… is that your laptop?”

Vic followed his glance and hummed. “Mm-hm.”

“Think I could borrow it?” Kellin asked, stretching his arms over his head before letting them drop. “I’ve got some grading stuff to finish up. It’s been hanging over my head for days.”

That made Vic pause mid-sleeve-roll. He turned to Kellin, brows raised slightly. “Grading?”

Kellin blinked. “Yeah. I told you I’m a student teacher.”

Vic tilted his head, almost like he was trying to decide if he’d heard him right. “You never actually told me that.”

Kellin huffed a quiet laugh. “Guess it didn’t really come up between all the… y’know. Fights, running, almost dying.”

Vic’s mouth twitched. “Fair.”

Kellin adjusted the blanket over his lap, clearing his throat. “Student teacher just means I’m still in college, but I’m working in a classroom to get the hours I need before I can graduate. I help the actual teacher, but I’m also being graded on how I teach, how I handle the kids, all that.”

There was a beat of silence where Vic just looked at him, like he was weighing that information with a kind of mild surprise, then he nodded once. “Makes sense. You can use it.” He gestured toward the laptop, then moved to grab his jacket from the chair.

Kellin muttered a quick “Thanks,” already mentally running through the list of assignments he’d been avoiding.

Vic slipped into his jacket, then came to the edge of the bed. “I’ve got to head out now, but..” He hesitated just a fraction, enough for Kellin to notice. “Don’t overdo it, okay? You still look like you could use another day of rest.”

Kellin rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “Yeah, yeah.”

Vic’s lips curved faintly, not quite a smile, but close enough. “Alright. See you in the morning.”

And with that, he left, the quiet click of the door sealing Kellin into the still apartment.

The room felt bigger without Vic in it, though maybe that was just the absence of his constant, steady energy. Kellin leaned over to snag the laptop, the metal cool under his fingers. He set it on his lap and flipped it open, the screen blinking to life in a soft glow.

The lock screen stared back at him, demanding a password.

“Right,” Kellin muttered under his breath. He reached for his phone, thumb flying over the screen.

Kellin:

What’s your laptop password

The reply came back faster than he expected.

Vic:

is “please” not in your vocabulary?

Kellin smirked faintly.

Please tell me your laptop password before I throw it out the window

There was a short pause.

It’s 19992502

Kellin typed it in, and the desktop unfolded in front of him, a neat spread of folders, the wallpaper a moody photograph of what looked like an old European street at night. He didn’t waste time opening up a browser, navigating to his college’s Gmail login. His fingers moved automatically, muscle memory guiding him through the steps.

At first, he intended to pull up lesson plans and feedback forms but his mind was elsewhere.

The conversation in the kitchen about vampire aging, Vic’s family, Tony’s odd aging pattern, it had stuck to him like burrs in his fur and it wasn’t just curiosity eating at him. It was that he needed to know. He opened his old supernatural physiology folder, sifting through PDFs and lecture slides. Eventually, he found it, one of last year’s electives he’d half-assed his way through: Aging Phenomena in Nonhuman Species.

He clicked, and the screen filled with dense notes and diagrams he had written.

Full-blooded vampires - aging slows to one-fourth human rate. Aging isn’t just physical but cellular, regeneration cycles replace cells more efficiently, delaying visible signs of time. One vampiric year is four human months roughly.

Seasonal regeneration cycles - their bodies are always on the edge of starting decomposition, the external climate subtly shifts their regeneration needs. In cold months when human corpses rot slower, vampires require less blood to maintain stasis. In hot months, the strain increases, blood is burned through faster, regeneration demands spike, and going too long without feeding in summer can leave a vampire visibly weathered.

Kellin skimmed past the clinicals terms to the part he remembered his professor dwelling on, how vampires aren’t technically alive, and without blood, they follow the same slow inevitable decay pattern as a corpse in the ground.

Diet influence — Human blood is standard. its chemical composition perfectly suspends the decay process at a cellular level. Animal blood works less efficiently, subtle signs of breakdown happen, skin losing elasticity, hair dulling, organs not regenerating at the same speed after years of animal only.

The notes made Kellin’s stomach twist, not because he was squeamish, it made him see Vic differently because of how calculated most vampires lives have been. 

It wasn’t just vampires. Werewolves had their own skewed relationship with time, one that most humans never noticed. His kind aged at about two-thirds the human rate; not enough to draw suspicion unless someone was looking closely. Their prime years stretched longer, their decline slower, but they still declined. There was no magic red juice to stop the rot of time to him. The document summed it up in a sentence that made Kellin pause:

“Most of the world runs on Human time, and the rest of us had to pretend to keep pace.”

Kellin sat back, staring at those words. It made too much sense. He’d felt it before, the way human friends rushed through years like they were sprinting downhill, while he still felt like he was in the same long haul he had been in for years. For Vic, it must be worse, Kellin couldn’t imagine rotting away. He imagined what “Human Time” must feel like to someone who could measure their life in centuries. The gap between one conversation and the next, the slow erosion of the standard of time that barely touched your skin as long as you worked to sustain it.

His phone buzzing on the blanket broke the thought.

Incoming FaceTime: Justin

Kellin sighed and answered, adjusting the angle so Justin wouldn’t see the laptop screen right away.

“Dude!” Justin started, then froze. “You’re alive.”

“I’m fine,” Kellin said automatically.

“Bullshit,” Justin shot back. “Vic told me you still look like you got hit by a truck.”

Kellin rolled his eyes. “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not the point,” Justin said, leaning closer to his camera like he could glare harder. “You vanish for a day, come back looking like roadkill, and now you’re living with your vampire boyfriend?!”

Kellin’s mouth twitched into a half-smile. “That’s… a very dramatic way to put it. And he’s not my boyfriend.”

“It’s accurate,” Justin deadpanned.

Kellin didn’t want to get into it, so he glanced away, hoping to deflect. “I’m just… working on something right now.”

Justin’s eyes narrowed. “On his laptop?”

Kellin hesitated. “…Yeah.”

“What kind of something?”

“Research.”

“On…?”

Kellin blew out a slow breath. “…Vampire aging.”

Justin blinked at him. “Why?”

“Because I want to know what I’m dealing with if I’m gonna be around Vic more.”

Justin groaned. “Oh my god. This is about your feelings for him!”

“It’s not-”

“It is. You’ve got that tone.”

Kellin bit back the urge to hang up. “You calling to nag me, or is there a point here?”

Justin’s frown softened slightly. “Yeah. Point one: are you actually okay? And don’t give me the ‘I’ve had worse’ crap again.”

Kellin shifted. “…I’m fine. Mostly.”

“Point two,” Justin said, “maybe don’t go neck-deep in vampire biology when you’re still recovering.”

“I’m not gonna get hurt reading PDFs and notes from class.”

“That’s not the point,” Justin said again. “You don’t just read. You obsess. And then you start making decisions based on worst-case scenarios.”

The words stuck, heavy and annoyingly accurate. 

“Anyways, do you want to go out to eat? I want to talk more, I'll pay.” Justin continued. “I’m still worried.”

“I’ll be fine, Justin. I always am. But sure.” Kellin said, running his hand through his hair.

They talked a little longer, but when Kellin finally hung up, the room felt even quieter than before. Kellin’s fingers paused over the trackpad as his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He glanced down.

A picture from Vic?

Kellin blinked, tilted his head, and instantly regretted opening it.

It was Vic, grinning faintly over a steel table, sleeves rolled to his elbows, surgical gloves smeared in something Kellin didn’t want to identify. The blurry background showed the unmistakable silhouette of a body under a sheet except the sheet wasn’t pulled all the way over. The pale curve of an arm lay exposed, stitches tracing up toward the shoulder.

Kellin gagged after realizing what it was. Nope. Nope nope nope.

Kellin:

What the actual fuck is this

no seriously vic what the hell do you do for work

It didn’t take long for the typing bubbles to appear.

Vic:

You asked me once a while ago and I told you “night work” lol

this is part of it.

i’m apprenticing at a funeral home.

Rn i’m shadowing during autopsy prep.

Kellin stared, horrified and… slightly impressed? But mostly horrified.

Apprenticing??? at a funeral home??

why the fuck are you smiling in that pic

bc i’m finally getting to do handson work instead of just paperwork.

We don’t do full autopsies here usually, that’s medical examiner territory but today im learning basic internal exams.

Kellin pinched the bridge of his nose.

You’re literally cutting people open

And then you’re coming home to make me breakfast

I don’t know whether to be flattered or never eat in your kitchen again

A beat, and then:

don’t be dramatic. Its sterile and i shower b4 i come home most nights

Kellin groaned. 

Of course the vampire works somewhere surrounded by OTHER actual dead people.

lol

Kellin stared at the blank grading spreadsheet he had opened for another solid thirty seconds before sighing and flopping back against Vic’s pillows. The laptop slid to the side, nearly toppling off the bed. He caught it one-handed, set it gently on the nightstand and grabbed his phone. Justin had texted saying he was going to be here in 2 minutes though Kellin knew that meant more like 35. Still, if they were heading to get dinner, he wasn’t going to show up looking like he’d crawled out of a ditch.

He opened his messages to Vic again.

Hey. Justin's doing a check in. Can I borrow your shower? and maybe more clothes?

It only took a minute before Vic’s typing bubble appeared.

yeah.

dresser, second drawer down. should be some stuff that’ll fit you.

spare key is by the coffee pot if you end up leaving before i’m home.

Kellin exhaled, tension loosening from his shoulders.

Thanks. promise i won’t steal anything.

Kellin smirked faintly, tossed his phone onto the bed, and rolled off to find the dresser. The drawer smelled faintly like Vic, the clothes were neatly folded, black jeans, a few soft band tees that looked like they’d seen a hundred washes, and a hoodie with the sleeves frayed from use.

He tugged out a t-shirt that had an image of the American Idiot album on it (of course Vic owned Green Day merch), a pair of worn black joggers, and the black hoodie he had borrowed a couple day ago, laying them on the bed.

The bathroom was small but clean, the tile cool under his feet as he shut the door and stripped out of his boxers. The hot water hit his skin and instantly made his muscles sigh. Steam curled up around him, fogging the mirror on the opposite wall. For a few moments, he just stood there, letting the spray beat against the back of his neck.  His mind started to drift. It was the kind of wandering thought spiral that always seemed to happen in the shower, when there was no phone to scroll through, no conversation to keep him present.

The past few days pressed in on him, harder now that the adrenaline had faded. The cold shock of his mom’s texts and the arguments, the woods, his wolf ripping its way out of him because he couldn’t keep it down anymore, the panic when Vic had pushed for his location.

And then Vic’s face when he finally pulled up with so much concern that it made Kellin want to shrink away and lean in at the same time. Ever since he came back to his senses and actually remembered the interaction, he hadn’t stopped thinking about the way Vic had looked at him in the car afterward. Or the feel of Vic’s hands as he pulled his hoodie over Kellin’s head even when Kellin had said I think I love you way… way… way too early. God, he’d really said that. And as the days pass he thinks he meant it, and Vic still hadn’t run.

The water streamed down his face and chest, tracing over the marks from shifting, the faint bruises along his ribs, the soreness in his arms and legs from sprinting.

His wolf had been quiet since that night. Too quiet. It wasn’t fear exactly, more like that tiredness after a fight you almost didn’t win. Kellin leaned his head against the cool tile, the hiss of the water wrapping around him. He thought about Justin, about how he was about to sit across from his best friend, pretending he wasn’t hanging by a thread. Justin would notice. He always noticed snd then he’d ask questions Kellin didn’t want to answer, not because he didn’t trust him, but because putting it into words would make it real.

And underneath all of it was the gnawing uncertainty of his parents. He still didn’t know if he was cut off, if going back meant facing them, if he’d even be welcome.

What if Vic minded him being here?  

He shut the water off before the thoughts got heavy enough to drag him under. Kellin toweled off quickly, rubbing his hair until it stuck up in wet tufts, then pulled on the joggers and Green Day shirt. The fabric was soft and worn, falling against him like it had been made to fit. The hoodie came last, smelling so much like Vic that Kellin almost paused. When he came out of the bathroom, his phone was buzzing on the bed.

Outside. hurry up or I’m leaving without you.

On my way

He quickly grabbed the spare key where Vic had told him it was, and locked the door behind him. Outside, the air was cooler than he’d expected, the faint scent of rain on the wind. Justin’s truck idled at the curb with his headlights cutting across the building. Kellin slid into the passenger seat, pulling the door shut with a creak.

“You look less like death than I expected,” Justin said, giving him a once-over as he pulled away from the curb. “Is that Vic’s hoodie?”

Kellin rolled his eyes. “You really don’t miss anything, do you?”

“Not when you smell like him.” Justin grinned, turning onto the main road. “So, diner?”

“Diner,” Kellin agreed, trying not to think about the fact that Vic’s scent was clinging to him now, curling into his skin like it belonged there. The diner sat on the corner of a quiet intersection about 10 minutes from Vic’s place, the neon sign buzzing faintly against the dark sky. Its windows glowed yellow from within, casting pools of warm light across the empty parking lot. Justin pulled into a spot right up front, cutting the engine.

“Still smells like coffee and bacon,” he said, already shoving his door open. “God bless this place.”

Kellin followed him inside, the bell above the door chiming faintly as they stepped in. The air was thick with the scent of frying oil, coffee, and something sweet, probably pie cooling somewhere in the back. It was late enough that only two other customers were here: an old man in a booth near the window, nursing a mug of black coffee, and a young woman hunched over her laptop at the counter. They slid into a booth near the back. The vinyl seat stuck faintly to Kellin’s hoodie, but it was warm and comfortable in a way that made him want to sink down and stay here for hours.

A waitress with a tired smile dropped off menus. “Coffee?”

“Yes,” Justin said before she’d even finished the word.

“Just coke for me,” Kellin said, and she nodded heading off to fetch them.

“So.” Justin leaned forward, elbows on the table. “How’s domestic life with a vampire?”

Kellin snorted. “It’s not- I’m not living with him.”

“You’ve been at his place for days.”

“That’s… temporary.”

Justin raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Temporary like that time you temporarily took care of my dog while I was on vacation and then stayed on my couch for 8 months?”

“That was different,” Kellin muttered.

“Sure,” Justin said, smirking. “So what’s it like?”

Kellin fiddled with his straw wrapper. “Quiet. Cleaner than I expected. He watches too much Buffy.”

“That doesn’t sound like a complaint.”

“It’s not.”

The waitress returned with their drinks, setting down Justin’s coffee and Kellin’s soda. “You two ready to order?”

“Pancakes,” Justin said immediately. “Extra syrup. And bacon.”

Kellin hesitated, scanning the menu. “Uh… scrambled eggs. And toast.”

When she walked off again, Justin went right back to watching him with that I know you’re hiding something look.

“You’ve been weird since I picked you up,” Justin said.

“I’ve always been weird.”

“Yeah, but this is… different.”

Kellin took a sip of his drink. “I’ve had a long week.”

“Mm. And Vic’s been part of that long week?”

Kellin’s jaw tightened slightly, but not enough to be noticeable unless you’d known him for years. Justin had.

“Yeah,” Kellin admitted.

Justin leaned back, crossing his arms. “He’s the one who got you out of the woods, right?”

Kellin nodded once.

“And he’s the one you’ve been staying with because you can’t exactly go home.”

Another nod. Justin didn’t push yet. He sipped his coffee instead, watching Kellin over the rim.

“You trust him?”

Kellin’s gaze dropped to the condensation sliding down his glass. “…Yeah. I do.”

Their food arrived quickly, Justin’s plate piled high with pancakes, Kellin’s eggs steaming beside golden slices of toast. For a few minutes, they ate in companionable silence, the clink of silverware and soft hum of the diner’s refrigerator filling the space between them.

It was Justin who broke it. “You look better than you did the last time I saw you.”

“That’s not a high bar.”

“I’m serious. You were all… wound up. Now you’re just… I don’t know. Less like you’re going to bite my head off.”

Kellin smirked faintly. “That’s the hoodie. It has calming properties.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

The conversation shifted to safer topics, like music, the latest pack gossip, a show Justin had just finished that Kellin swore he’d never watch because the fandom was insane. They were laughing about a ridiculous fan theory involving werewolf moon allergies when Justin’s tone shifted again.

“So,” Justin said casually, “you gonna tell me why you were in the woods that night?”

Kellin froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. “…No.”

“Not even a little?”

“Not even a little.”

Justin studied him for a long moment before letting it go. “Fine. But you’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”

They lingered in the booth long after their plates were cleared, the coffee pot making another round past their table. Outside, the rain that had been threatening earlier finally started, pattering softly against the windows.

Justin glanced at his phone. “I should probably get you back before it gets too late. I know vampires don’t sleep like we do, but you might want to get home before Vi-”

“Yeah,” Kellin said quickly. “I should…” He trailed off, suddenly aware that going back meant walking into Vic’s apartment wearing his clothes, smelling like his soap, sleeping and cuddling in his bed. Justin wasn’t lying, he has a vampire boyfriend. 

Justin caught the pause. “You’re thinking about him right now.”

“No, I’m-” Kellin sighed. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Justin smirked. “Thought so.”

The drive back was quieter, the rain drumming on the roof of the truck. Streetlights blurred past in streaks of gold and silver. When Justin pulled up in front of Vic’s building, he didn’t immediately kill the engine. “You know I’ve got your back, right? No matter what’s going on with your parents. Or… with him.”

Kellin’s throat tightened. “…Yeah. I know.”

Justin nodded, satisfied, and finally unlocked the doors. “Text me if you need anything.”

Kellin slipped out, hoodie pulled tight against the drizzle, and jogged up the steps to the front door. Inside Vic’s apartment was quiet, the faint hum of the fridge the only sound. The clock on the wall read just after 2 am. Kellin stood in the middle of the living room for a moment, dripping faintly onto the rug, before heading toward the bedroom. The bed looked exactly as he’d left it, rumpled from where he’d been working earlier.

The rain outside tapped steadily against the windows, and for the first time all evening, he let himself think about how it would feel when Vic came home and saw him here. Still in his clothes. Still smelling like his soap. He shrugged off Vic’s hoodie, then immediately pulled it back on, because without it he felt wrong . Exposed .

It wasn’t until he dropped onto the edge of Vic’s bed that the quiet started pressing in on him. The sheets smelled faintly like clean linen and Vic’s cologne, or whatever soap he used. It should’ve been comforting. Instead, it made his chest ache in a way he didn’t feel prepared for. That’s when it hit him, harder than he’d expected.

He really, really liked Vic. Not just in that way you like someone who’s good-looking, but in a way that had been growing under the surface for years, tangled up in every insult they’d ever traded, every tense truce, every moment he’d caught himself staring too long.

He’d told himself he wasn’t falling in love. That Vic was just… Vic. Someone to push against, someone to argue with, someone to avoid getting too close to because getting close meant getting hurt. Except… he’d gotten close anyway. Somewhere between all the verbal sparring and accidental late-night talks, something had shifted. He’d started noticing the little things about the vampire. How Vic’s laugh sounded, how he treated the people he cared about, the strange softness in him that didn’t match his sharp fangs at all. Kellin dragged a hand over his face, groaning quietly. He didn’t want to have feelings for someone like him, but he did. He’d been circling around it for years, and now it was unavoidable.  He thought about a few nights ago again. The way Vic had been there, steady and unshaken, when everything else had fallen apart. The way he’d pulled Kellin out of the woods without a word of judgment, the way he’d let him stay without asking for explanations he wasn’t ready to give, and with that, the moment in the woods, the words Kellin had blurted before he could stop himself: I think I love you.

God. No wonder Vic had been looking at him differently ever since.

Kellin lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, heart pounding like he’d just run for miles.

He thought about all the pieces of his life, all the people who’d shaped him. Vic wasn’t supposed to be part of that inner circle. He was supposed to be an outsider, someone Kellin clashed with, not someone who made him feel… safe and seen.

And yet, here he was, in Vic’s bed, wrapped in Vic’s clothes, smelling like Vic’s soap, feeling like maybe he was somewhere he belonged. The realization wasn’t gentle. It crashed into him all at once, messy and overwhelming. He liked Vic. He wanted Vic . And if he wasn’t careful, he might even fall in love with him for real, not just in a moment of exhaustion and vulnerability in the woods, but in the way that sticks. The way that lasts.

And that… terrified him. If he let himself want this, and it went wrong it wouldn’t just hurt, it would ruin him.

Kellin sighed again, pressing his face into the pillow. He knew he should sleep, but sleep felt like fully surrendering to the vulnerability that was already creeping through him. He tried to push it down, to rationalize that the wolf within him made the instincts and the fear of being abandoned feel bigger, sharper. But even as he told himself that, he couldn’t ignore the quiet, steady thought that had begun to grow in his chest: he liked Vic. More than he had ever let himself admit before.

He flopped onto his side, hugging the pillow, staring at the dim glow of the city lights through the curtains. Eventually exhaustion won and Kellin let himself sink into the blankets fully. He closed his eyes, hoping that when he woke Vic would be there and some of the chaos of the last few weeks could start to feel like something he could hold onto.

Chapter Text

Kellin stirred at the quiet sound of his name. “Kellin,” Vic’s voice was soft, almost cautious, like he was trying not to spook him awake. A hand brushed lightly against his shoulder, the gentle pressure grounded him before he had the chance to bolt upright the way he usually did.

He blinked against the early morning light bleeding through the curtains, groggy and disoriented for a beat before everything aligned, the apartment, the bed that still smelled faintly like Vic (and now himself as well), the events of the last few days. And then Vic himself, standing at the edge of the mattress, freshly showered, damp strands of dark hair curling against his temples. He was dressed simply, black jeans and a plain white shirt, but he looked neat like the hours of night hadn’t touched him at all and he totally hadn’t had his hands in a corpse earlier.

“Morning,” Vic said softly, with a small smile that almost looked shy. “I didn’t want to wake you, but… food’s ready.”

Kellin blinked again, sitting up slowly, his body still weighed down with lingering exhaustion. “Food?” His voice came out rough, his throat dry from sleep.

Vic nodded, thumb hooking in his pocket as if to keep his hands busy. “Yeah. I, uh… made breakfast. Figured you’d be starving.”

The words sank in, and Kellin’s chest tightened at the realization, Vic hadn’t just come home and crashed after work. He’d showered, cleaned himself up, and then gone out of his way to cook for both of them. Kellin rubbed at his face, suddenly self-conscious about still being in borrowed clothes, his hair a mess from sleep. “You didn’t have to…” he mumbled, though his stomach betrayed him with a low growl.

Vic chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, well, I wanted to. Come on. Before it gets cold.”

Kellin swung his legs out of bed, stretching, his bones protesting. Vic lingered for a moment, like he wanted to offer help but knew better than to push, then turned and headed toward the kitchen.

The smell hit Kellin before he even made it to the doorway, eggs, bacon, something buttery that made his stomach twist with both hunger and gratitude. He followed the scent into the small kitchen, where Vic had already set two plates down on the table. 

“You really cooked this?” Kellin asked, sliding into the chair across from Vic.

“Don’t sound so surprised, I made you food the other day,” Vic teased lightly, though his ears flushed pink. “My mom used to make me cook with her all the time, it’s fun to do it.”

Kellin picked up his fork, staring down at the plate like it might vanish if he looked away. Something about the care behind it, and the thought Vic had put into doing something so normal for him made his chest ache. He shoved a bite of eggs into his mouth to cover it, chewing quickly before he could say something too soft, too revealing.

They ate in silence for a few moments, the clink of forks against plates filling the small kitchen. It wasn’t uncomfortable silence, it felt more like a pause, a space held open between them that didn’t need filling right away.

Still, Kellin glanced up after a while, catching Vic’s eyes on him. Vic didn’t look away, didn’t try to hide it. He just studied him with that same patient expression he’d worn since Kellin first showed up at his apartment, falling apart.

“What?” Kellin muttered, uncomfortable under the weight of it.

Vic only shrugged, lips twitching into a faint smile. “Nothing. Just glad you’re here.”

Kellin’s fork stalled mid-air, and his throat tightened at the honesty in those words. He didn’t know what to say back, so he just shoved more food into his mouth and hoped Vic wouldn’t press.

For a while, the only sounds were forks scraping plates and the quiet hum of the fridge. Morning sunlight leaked through the blinds, cutting the kitchen in thin gold stripes. It almost looked normal, two people sharing breakfast in the early hours of the day. Kellin kept waiting for something to shatter it. Halfway through his plate, he set his fork down and leaned back in the chair, watching Vic across the table. The vampire sat comfortably, posture loose, his plate barely touched but his tea halfway gone. His eyes softened every time they lingered on Kellin, like he was memorizing the way he sat there with messy hair and sleepy eyes.

The weight of it pressed against Kellin until he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He cleared his throat.

“Why haven’t you kicked me out yet?”

Vic blinked with his fork halfway to his mouth. Kellin swallowed hard and forced himself not to look away.

“You’ve let me stay here, you’ve-” he gestured toward the plate, the warm food he’d almost finished, “you’re… cooking for me. Babying me and letting me wreck your routine. And for what? I mean, I’ve been nothing but a mess since I walked in your door. You’d have every right to tell me to get out.”

Vic set his fork down carefully. His dark eyes didn’t waver from Kellin’s face. For a long, tense second, Kellin thought maybe he’d actually touched a nerve, maybe Vic would finally admit he’d had enough. Instead, Vic leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. His stare was steady and as sharp as the cut of his voice when he finally spoke.

“That,” Vic said slowly, “is the dumbest fucking thing you’ve ever asked me.”

Kellin froze, lips parting before he could catch himself. The deadpan tone, the exact cadence of the words, it hit him a beat later. A laugh bubbled up before he could stop it, soft at first, then spilling out in little waves until he was giggling into his hand.

“Oh my god,” Kellin wheezed between breaths. “You’re throwing my own words back at me? That’s-” He shook his head, still grinning. “That’s not fair.”

Vic’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “You set yourself up for it. I wasn’t gonna waste the opportunity.”

Kellin tried to muffle another laugh with his palm, shoulders shaking. The heaviness in the room lifted with each chuckle, the air shifting back into something warm, something teasing, something that almost felt safe.

Vic was still watching him, his eyes warm in a way that made Kellin’s heart pound. He hadn’t realized how much he missed laughing like this. Not the sarcastic kind of laugh that filled most of his days, but the kind that caught him off guard and made him feel lighter for a second.

And then his phone buzzed on the table.

The name lit up his screen in sharp, white letters: Mom .

His laughter dried in his throat. The buzzing went on, loud, harsh, and insistent. Vic noticed the way Kellin stiffened, the way his hand hovered over the phone like it might bite him.

“You gonna answer?” Vic asked carefully.

Kellin’s chest tightened. His mom never called unless she was pissed or scared, sometimes both. He swallowed hard and swiped to answer.

“Hello?”

“KELLIN QUINN.” His mother’s voice exploded through the speaker, sharp and furious. “Where the hell are you? Do you have any idea what time it is? Do you even know how worried I’ve been?”

Kellin flinched, holding the phone an inch away from his ear. His jaw tightened. “Mom, calm down, I-”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!” she snapped. “I called you 6 times the night you left, you never came home, Justin said he hasn’t seen you since the weekend-”

Kellin’s stomach lurched. He shot Vic a panicked glance, his grip on the phone tightening. “I-I’m at Justin’s. Okay? I’m fine.”

It was a lie, shaky but quick. He hoped Justin would back him up if she ever asked. There was silence on the other end, her voice came back colder. “At Justin’s. Really.”

“Yes,” Kellin bit out.

“You expect me to believe that?” Her words dripped venom. “You’ve been running around with those parasites, haven’t you? Don’t think I don’t hear things. Those leeches sink their claws into people like you and never let go. You want to end up like Tony’s family? You want to-”

“Mom-”

“I swear, Kellin, if you’re letting some vampire get their hooks in you, you’re throwing your life away. They drain you, they change you, they make you think you need them. That’s what they do.”

Vic froze where he sat across from Kellin, fork still in his hand. His face didn’t change much but his mouth pressed into a thin line, his shoulders tightening almost imperceptibly. His gaze flicked downward away from Kellin as though giving him space- but the wince was there, subtle and raw. Kellin’s blood ran cold. Anger burned in his chest but the guilt tangled in with it until he could barely breathe. His mom didn’t know. She couldn’t know Vic was sitting right there, hearing every word.

He forced his voice out. “I said I’m at Justin’s. I’m fine. Drop it.”

His mother scoffed, the sound full of sharp disbelief. “Don’t you take that tone with me. You think you know better, Kellin, but you don’t. Those things will ruin you. Mark my words.”

Kellin’s hand trembled around the phone. He clenched his teeth, biting back everything he wanted to scream. Instead, he muttered, “I’ll call you later.” And without waiting for her reply, he hung up.

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Kellin set the phone face-down on the table, his hand shaking as he dragged it through his hair.

“Fuck.” His voice cracked.

Vic didn’t say anything at first. He just studied him quietly, expression unreadable. The faintest ache lingered in his eyes, though, like a bruise.

The phone lit up again, buzzing violently against the table.

Mom.

Kellin’s stomach dropped. His pulse thudded in his throat, and that all too familiar ache started twisting in his chest, a dull burn that spread outward like fire through his ribs. Lone Wolf Syndrome never failed to kick in when he was already spiraling.

Vic’s eyes flicked to the phone, then to Kellin. He didn’t say anything, but his brow creased, a flicker of worry crossing his face.

The phone won’t stop ringing.

Kellin clenched his jaw and snatched it up, pressing it to his ear. “What?” His voice came out harsh, sharper than he meant.

“You dare hang up on me?” His mother’s voice was a roar. “You ungrateful little bastard. Who do you think you are?”

Kellin’s chest tightened more. “Mom-”

“No. No, you don’t get to ‘Mom’ me right now.” Her voice grew louder. “You’ve shamed me enough. Do you think I don’t know? Do you think I haven’t heard? Everyone at Church is talking, Kellin. My son running around with one of them. A vampire. A filthy, bloodsucking corpse that wears human skin. You want to drag our family name through the dirt for that?”

Kellin’s hand trembled so hard he nearly dropped the phone. The ache in his chest flared hot and sharp like knives digging into his lungs. He pressed his free hand to his sternum. Vic started to rise from his chair, but stopped when Kellin shook his head. He didn’t want Vic to see him crumble. 

“I told you I’m at Justin’s,” Kellin ground out, voice tight. “Drop it.”

“Don’t lie to me!” she shrieked. “I know you. I know when you’re lying. You’re with it , aren’t you? With that leech . You’ve let it sink its teeth into you!”

“That’s not-”

“You disgust me.” Her voice broke, not with sadness but with rage. “You’re no son of mine if you’ve let that parasite touch you. Do you hear me? If you set foot in this house again, Kellin Quinn, I will drag you out by your hair myself. You are cut off. From me, from your father, from this family. Don’t you dare come crawling back when it bleeds you dry. Because it will. They always do.”

The words cracked through him like a whip. His chest spasmed with a sharp, stabbing ache, his body curling forward slightly over the table. He sucked in a ragged breath, fighting the tightening in his lungs.

“Mom, stop-”

“You’re worthless!” she spat, venom dripping from every syllable. “Worthless and weak. Running around with monsters like you don’t have enough shame already. I tried to be okay with the males, Kellin. I really tried. Because at least the men weren't dead !”

“Do you want the whole city to see what a freak you’ve become? A wolf with no pack, whoring himself out to a fucking corpse .” She continued, seething and basically screaming into the phone.

Kellin’s vision blurred at the edges. The ache was unbearable now, squeezing his ribs like a snake. He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw throbbed, trying to swallow back the sting in his eyes. Vic stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the tile. He moved closer, hovering at Kellin’s side, not touching but there. Solid. Present.

“You listen to me,” his mother screamed, voice shrill and shaking. “If you walk with the damned, you’ll burn with the damned. That’s scripture, Kellin. You want to rot with them, go right ahead. But don’t you dare call me your mother again.”

And then the line went dead.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Kellin’s phone slipped from his hand onto the table with a dull clatter. He folded in on himself, every word she’d thrown at him reverberated in his skull over and over like they’d been carved into him, his vision swam.

“Kellin,” Vic’s voice came low and steady though Kellin could hear the anger barely contained under it. He crouched down beside him, his dark eyes searching Kellin’s face.

Kellin squeezed his eyes shut, unable to meet his gaze. His chest hurt too much, physically, emotionally, all of it. “She.. she hates me,” he whispered, voice breaking. “She really.. she meant it.”

Vic’s jaw clenched, but his voice stayed quiet. “She’s wrong.”

Kellin shook his head violently, arms tightening around himself. “She said I’m worthless.”

“She’s wrong,” Vic repeated, firmer this time.

Kellin dragged in another broken breath, the ache in his chest refusing to let up. He hated that Vic was here, hearing all of this, seeing him like this. He hated that a part of him still wanted Vic’s arms around him anyway, he wanted comfort even though he didn’t deserve it. Vic stood again and pulled him into a hug. Kellin clung to Vic’s shirt like it was the only thing keeping him from falling to the floor, tears slicking the cotton until it clung damp to it. His chest ached with every breath.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered again, words breaking against his sobs. “I don’t know how to- how to let anyone.” He broke off, gagging on the emotion stuck in his throat. “I ruin it, every fucking time, I ruin it, and you’re- you’re gonna wake up one day and realize I’m just too much. And then you’ll leave like everyone else.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“You say that!” Kellin’s head snapped up, his face streaked with tears, voice cracking. “You say that now, because it’s easy, because- because I’m crying and pathetic and you feel bad for me. But you don’t know what it’s like!”

Vic’s hand cupped his cheek, not rough, not forceful, just being there. The pad of his thumb brushed across Kellin’s wet skin. His eyes locked with Kellin’s.

“I do know what it’s like,” Vic said softly. “I know what it’s like to feel unwanted. To be told you’re unnatural. To wonder if the people who claim to love you will still say it tomorrow. I know that pain and I know it doesn’t go away. But I’m not going anywhere, Kellin. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not just because it gets hard.”

The words cut right into Kellin.

Kellin shook his head, more tears spilling. “But what if- what if I’m not enough? What if I can’t be- what you want, or need? What if I fuck it up? What if I already have?”

Vic leaned in until their foreheads pressed together, until Kellin had no choice but to feel the warmth of him, the steadiness that his own body lacked.

“Then we figure it out,” Vic whispered. “Together. You don’t have to be anything more than who you are right now. And if you spiral, if we think we’ve fucked everything up, I’ll still be here.”

Kellin’s lip trembled so hard it hurt. He sucked in a jagged breath, shaking his head over and over as though he could shake away the way Vic’s words burrowed deep, hitting that raw nerve he tried so hard to bury.

“Stop-” His voice cracked, he weakly hit his hand against Vic's chest. “Stop saying shit like that. Stop making me believe you.”

Vic’s hand slid down to the back of his neck, gently petting Kellin’s hair. “Why?”

“Because if I believe you,” Kellin’s voice splintered into a near-wail, “if I believe you and then you leave, I’ll fucking die Vic. I can’t do it again , I can’t-” His chest heaved with another sob, body curling in against itself.

Vic’s arms wrapped tight around him again, pulling him close, holding him together when he couldn’t. “Then don’t believe me all at once,” Vic murmured. “Believe me in pieces. Believe me for the next five minutes. Then maybe the next hour. Then maybe the next day. You don’t have to trust forever all at once, Kellin. Just try to believe me right now.”

Kellin’s sob cracked open into something softer, his body trembling so violently it felt like the floor tilted beneath him. He pressed his face into Vic’s chest again, breathing in the faint smell of soap and something warmer beneath it, clinging tighter.

The words didn’t make sense in his head. They didn’t fit right with everything he’d been told, everything he’d lived, everything that had been drilled into him by his mother’s voice and his father’s actions.

But they felt good against his skin.

“Why? Why do you care?” Kellin whispered again, broken and childlike. “Why me? Why this mess?”

Vic’s chest rumbled with the quiet answer, spoken like a truth he’d known all along. “Because it’s you. And you’re not a mess to me.”

Kellin broke again. His breath shuddered hard, a sob clawing up his throat and spilling out in a noise that sounded more like a howl choked short than a cry. His fingers fisted tighter in Vic’s shirt, the fabric stretching under the strain.

“You don’t-”

“I do,” Vic whispered. “More than you think.”

“I’m not safe to love,” Kellin rasped. “I’ll drag you down with me.”

“You’re safe with me,” Vic countered instantly, his voice firm.

Kellin whimpered, an ugly, hurt animal-like sound. “But I’m not-”

“You are,” Vic interrupted again, hands steady on his back grounding him, refusing to let the words spiral further. “You are. And I’ll keep telling you until you believe me.”

The tears wouldn’t stop. His body ached, his throat burned., his chest still spasmed with the sharp pangs of flares, every emotional spike making it worse, but Vic didn’t let him collapse alone. He held him through every wave and when Kellin tried to push, Vic only held firmer as minutes passed. The fight drained out of him slowly, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. His sobs softened, hiccupping against Vic’s chest. His fists loosened just enough to leave wrinkles in Vic’s shirt, but not enough to let go. He couldn’t let go. 

His voice came small, hoarse. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not.”

A weak whimper caught in his throat, a half-sob half-sound his wolf made when it was desperate and afraid. Vic shifted slightly, pressing his lips against Kellin’s temple. “Do you want to lay down?”

Kellin sniffled hard, too tired to answer. Vic’s thumb brushed away another tear, his voice gentler now. “Do you want me to cuddle you?”

The whimper came again, soft and pitiful. Kellin’s eyes squeezed shut, his lip trembling as he nodded. 

“Come on,” Vic whispered, voice low as though talking to a skittish animal. “Let’s go lay down. You’ll feel better stretched out.”

Kellin barely lifted his head, tears still wet against his cheeks. His body followed because Vic’s hand was on him. He let himself be led down the short hall, Vic’s palm warm between his shoulder blades. When they reached the bedroom, Vic sat on the edge of the bed first then laid back opening his arms without a word. His eyes softened, his mouth curved into a smile that was gentle and patient. “C’mere.”

For a moment Kellin hesitated, standing in the doorway like a shadow. His wolf whined inside him, urging needy and raw, but his mind still barked with old instinct screaming not to let himself sink too deep. But Vic didn’t rush him, he just waited, arms open and a quiet invitation. When Kellin finally crawled onto the bed and into Vic’s arms it was like his body made the decision for him. He collapsed against Vic’s chest, curling in tight, nose pressing against the soft cotton of Vic’s shirt. Vic’s arms folded around him instantly, pulling him close like he belonged there. One hand slid into his hair, fingers combing slow, rhythmic strokes through the waves.

Kellin let out a noise he hadn’t meant to make. His wolf answered first, just a quiet rumble that sounded like relief.

“There you go,” Vic murmured, smiling faintly at the sound. He kept petting through Kellin’s hair. “See? Not so scary wolfboy.”

Kellin made another noise pressing closer against Vic’s chest. His breathing hitched less now, still ragged, but calming under the rhythm of Vic’s touch.

Vic tilted his head, resting his cheek on top of Kellin’s messy hair. “You know,” he started softly after a minute of silence, almost like he was talking to fill the quiet, “you really have a weird little family. Like Justin and Nick I get but Jaime, Loni, and Tony?”

A faint laugh stirred in his chest, vibrating through Kellin’s ear where it was pressed against him. “Sometimes I wonder if the three of them are actually just one hivemind. Or maybe they’re secretly a throuple. God, can you imagine?”

Kellin’s lips twitched against his chest, a soft huff of air escaping him that wasn’t quite a laugh but close enough. An involuntary noise followed his wolf acknowledging the words without lifting its head.

Vic chuckled softly at the sound. “That's an agreement, huh? Yeah, thought so. Tony would totally be the domestic one. Jaime’s the pretty face, obviously. Loni’s the muscle. You put them together and- bam, perfect balance.”

Kellin let out a softer noise this time, a little whine at the back of his throat, his body curling closer. His wolf was there in full force now, answering without words and needing comfort more than conversation.

Vic only softened further, his hand never stopping its rhythm in Kellin’s hair. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk. I’m just talking enough for both of us.”

Vic shifted slightly, getting comfortable, his voice low and steady like a lullaby. “Did I ever tell you what I’m studying? I'm pretty sure you've figured it out by now though? It's Mortuary Science. It sounds intense, but it’s kinda beautiful in a way. Taking care of people after everyone else has left them behind. Making them look like themselves again like someone loved them enough to say goodbye properly. It’s… strange, maybe. But it feels important.”

Kellin’s chest rumbled against him, a low whine slipping out. His wolf didn’t know what to make of the words, only that Vic’s voice was calm. The sound drew another soft smile from Vic.

“Yeah, I know,” he said gently. “Creepy to some people. But not to me. I like it. And I think I’m good at it, too. Weird career choice, huh?”

Another small sound slipped from Kellin, a huff against Vic’s chest.

Vic laughed quietly, brushing his thumb across Kellin’s scalp, massaging gently. “That’s a top ten noise-only review. I’ll take it.”

The rhythm continued, Vic’s voice weaving threads of calm, his fingers combing through hair, Kellin’s body relaxing fraction by fraction as the wolf inside him made soft involuntary noises. Every sigh, every little whimper, every half-growl wasn’t language in the human sense, but Vic seemed to understand them anyway. He answered each one like it mattered, as though he was fluent in Kellin’s wordless dialect.

The room grew quiet in the gentlest way. The kind of quiet that just felt lived in. Vic’s chest rose and fell beneath Kellin’s cheek. His voice dropped lower and softer, still talking not because he needed to but because he knew Kellin needed to hear him to keep him present in reality.

And Kellin gave what he could: little noises and the wolf’s instinctual answers, the soft tremors of his body pressing closer until there was no space left between them. Vic was comfortably leaning back against the pillows, Kellin pressed to his chest like he was molded there. Vic didn’t mind the weight, it anchored him and from the way Kellin clung tighter whenever Vic’s hand slowed in his hair, he knew the werewolf needed anchoring too.

“You know, looping back to the throuple,” Vic murmured, his voice rumbling softly against Kellin’s ear, “Tony especially is a weirdo.” He smiled faintly, combing his fingers slowly through Kellin’s hair. “He and I have known each other since middle school. Back when he was still figuring out what being turned meant. He pretended like he was totally fine, but really? He’d steal my brother’s lunch every day just to see if human food would still do anything by itself. Spoiler, it didn’t. But the dude would eat three sandwiches just to be sure.”

Kellin let out a small noise, something between a grunt and a soft huff, pressing his nose deeper into Vic’s chest.

Vic chuckled at the sound. “Yeah, exactly. He was always like that. Stubborn as hell. Still is. One time he tried to prove he could run track after dark without, um, getting noticed, and he ended up tripping over a sprinkler system. Nearly broke his nose. I laughed so hard. He didn’t talk to me for three days.”

Another quiet rumble escaped Kellin, his wolf’s way of agreeing.

“And then there’s Loni,” Vic continued, absently twirling a strand of Kellin’s hair around his finger before smoothing it back down. “God, Loni was terrifying the first time I met him. He gave me that look, you know the one. Like he was measuring me for a coffin. Which is ironic, considering my degree.”

Kellin’s chest vibrated with a small, muffled sound, a half-snort half-whine that made Vic grin.

“Yeah, that one. But under all that muscle, he’s… he’s good. Like, solid. Protective and like a teddy bear once you know him. I think he’d take a bullet for anyone he considers family, no hesitation. He tried teaching me how to drive stick once, and I swear he almost ripped the steering wheel off the column yelling at me but then he bought me tacos after.”

Kellin gave a soft, approving hum, his fingers doodling unconsciously in the fabric of Vic’s shirt.

“And Jaime,” Vic said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t even get me started on Jaime. One time he crashed at my place after a show and dumped glitter all over my pillowcases because he said I looked like the guy from Twilight. It took me weeks to wash it out. Tony still teases me about it.”

Kellin made a soft little noise, his cheek sliding against Vic’s chest like he was settling deeper.

Vic smirked faintly, rubbing slow circles against his scalp. “See, that’s why I always say the three of them might as well be a throuple. Kinda makes me jealous, honestly. Like, they’ve figured out how to make it work, even if it’s not official.”

The wolf inside Kellin answered with a low, soft whimper, his body tensing for just a moment before melting again against Vic’s chest.

Vic noticed, his smile softening into something quieter. “Not that you don’t have them too. You’ve got Justin, Nick… hell, you’ve got me now whether you want me or not.” He tilted his head brushing his lips lightly against Kellin’s hair. “I think I’m okay with that.”

Kellin gave no words, just a low hum almost like a purr, vibrating against Vic’s chest. His body was heavy now, his breathing starting to slow.

Vic felt the shift, the way Kellin’s wolf sounds came softer, more sporadic, like even that primal part of him was finally settling down. He kept petting his hair, voice gentling further, almost a whisper now. “Yeah, that’s it. Just rest. I’ve got you.”

The rhythm of breath and heartbeat filled the space between them. Vic spoke a little more, about Tony learning embalming with him once, about the way Jaime and him could out sing anyone at karaoke, about how Loni secretly liked baking, but the responses from Kellin came slower, eventually fading into silence.

And when Vic glanced down, Kellin’s lashes were resting against his cheeks as he began to snore softly. Vic smiled faintly, pressing another kiss to his hair. “Sleep, Kellin. I’ll be right here.”

He didn’t stop stroking his hair, not until his own eyes began to grow heavy too, both of them sinking into sleep together.

Chapter Text

The apartment was unusually quiet for a Tuesday morning, aside from the faint, muffled sound of Kellin’s voice carrying from the living room. Vic stood in his bedroom, bent over his desk where a mess of notes and his half-packed lab kit were scattered, his attention kept drifting toward the sound of Kellin talking. The werewolf’s voice wasn’t loud, but Vic could hear the tension in it. Kellin was on the phone with Justin, Vic had pieced that much together. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, not really. But Kellin wasn’t exactly whispering, and the apartment was small enough that voices carried whether you wanted them to or not.

“I just… I don’t know, man,” Kellin muttered, his words low. “She’s probably burned half my shit by now. I just- no, listen, I can’t go back there. I can’t.”

Vic paused halfway through slipping his lab coat into his bag. His jaw tightened. He hated the sound of Kellin’s voice when it cracked like that, when the sharp edge of bravado he usually carried thinned into something brittle.

He pulled his gaze back to the satchel, carefully tucking in a case of scalpels and an extra notebook. It wasn’t his business to listen. Vic wasn’t about to pry but the words still slipped under his skin, settling heavy in his chest.

In the living room, Kellin’s voice dropped, softer now, almost a whisper. “If you could just… grab some of my stuff, maybe? Just the important things. Clothes, my old guitar if it’s still there.” A pause. “Yeah. Yeah, I know it’s a lot to ask. But I don’t- I don’t want to put Vic in more shit than I already have.”

Vic stilled. The strap of his satchel slid through his fingers, the bag thumping lightly against his thigh. He stared at the floor, teeth worrying his bottom lip. Kellin’s words hit in that quiet, blunt way that always managed to bruise Vic where he least expected it. Like Kellin thought of himself as nothing but a burden, an intrusion.

Shaking his head, Vic exhaled slowly, deliberately, and forced himself to focus again. He adjusted the notebook, checked the pockets for his pens, pretended he hadn’t just heard Kellin’s voice break like glass on the other side of the wall.

From the living room came Justin’s voice faintly crackling through the phone speaker, too muffled for Vic to make out the words then Kellin spoke again quieter. “I don’t know what else to do, Justin. I don’t know where else to go.”

With a sharp breath, Vic forced himself to move because standing frozen in the doorway like some awkward shadow wasn’t helping either of them. He bent down and tugged open the dresser drawer, pulling out a clean tshirt and some jeans for after his shower. He hesitated for a moment, listening again to Kellin’s voice but shook it off and padded quickly into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, and Vic leaned against the sink for a breath, letting the muffled cadence of Kellin’s words blur into the background.

Stripping down, Vic turned on the water and stepped into the shower. The rush of it filled the room, steaming up the mirror almost instantly. He tipped his head back beneath the spray, the hot water loosening the knots of tension at the base of his neck. For a moment, he just stood there, letting himself focus on the rhythmic sound of the water instead of the faint voice spilling in from the other side of the wall.

But then, through the hiss of the shower, Kellin’s voice rose in a raw crack of emotion. “She said I was worthless, Justin. She told me if I ever came back, she’d-” His voice faltered. “I don’t even think she’s my mom anymore. I don’t think she ever was.”

Vic’s fingers tightened around the bottle of shampoo until the plastic buckled beneath his grip. He wanted to walk straight out with the soap still clinging to him, and tell Kellin that his mom didn’t know what the hell she was talking about, that she was wrong, cruel, and Vic had never once seen Kellin as anything close to worthless. He forced himself to stay under the water to focus on lathering his hair and rinsing it out.

Kellin needed Justin right now. Someone who had known him longer, he was someone whose voice could anchor him in a way Vic’s might not yet.

By the time Vic had scrubbed down, rinsed, and pulled his hair back into a damp ponytail, the apartment had grown quiet again. He towel-dried quickly, slipped into his jeans and T-shirt, and slung his satchel back onto his shoulder before pushing open the bathroom door.

The sound hit him immediately.

A laugh.

Not one of Kellin’s sarcastic little huffs or the brittle chuckles he’d sometimes forced when things got too heavy. This was a real laugh. Vic froze in the hallway, he hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed to hear it until just now. Kellin was still on the phone, his voice happier than it had been in days. “You’re such an idiot, Justin,” he was saying, laughter still tangled in the words. “No, no, I’m not doing that. You’d get me arrested. Yeah, well, you’re lucky you’ve got that stupid shitface grin that gets you out of everything.”

Vic leaned against the doorframe, his damp hair dripping onto his shirt, and just listened for a moment. Something in Vic’s chest eased, he let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, then pushed himself off the frame and padded toward the kitchen, making a bit of noise this time. He wanted Kellin to know he was there, not listening in secret but sharing the same space. He padded out into the kitchen and made himself some tea.

And as Kellin’s laughter rippled again, Vic couldn’t help but smile to himself. Kellin must have caught the movement out of the corner of his eye because he glanced up from the couch mid-conversation. The faintest smirk tugged at his mouth, his phone pressed loosely to his ear. “You’re not late for class, are you?” he asked, his voice pitched just loud enough for Vic to hear over Justin’s muffled response on the other end.

Vic blinked, momentarily disoriented, then lifted his wrist to check the time. Relief washed over him, he still had nearly an hour before he needed to be on campus. He shook his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. “No. I’ve got time.”

Kellin nodded, looking satisfied with the answer, then dropped his gaze back to his phone. He murmured something to Justin, laughter still hovering at the edges of his voice.

Vic leaned against the counter, crossing his arms loosely. Curiosity burned at him, though he tried to keep his tone light. “What were you talking about, anyway? Sounded… fun.”

Kellin rolled his eyes, though his lips curved in that small, lingering smile. “Justin’s being an idiot. He said we should sneak back into my mom’s place, grab all my stuff, and if she calls the cops, he’ll just charm his way out of it.” He shook his head with an exasperated laugh, pulling the phone away from his mouth to glance at Vic. “Like that’s even remotely a good idea.”

From the speaker, Justin’s indignant voice crackled loud enough that Vic could make out: “It’s a great idea!”

Kellin groaned and shoved the phone back to his ear, but not before Vic caught another flicker of amusement soften the exhaustion in his face.

Kellin must have decided Justin had rambled long enough, because he pulled the phone away from his ear and raised his voice slightly. “Hey, Vic.” His eyes flicked toward the kitchen where Vic was lingering with his coffee. “Are you seriously okay with me basically moving into your apartment?”

Vic set his mug down on the counter and tilted his head. “You mean… you already have?” He tried to keep his tone casual, even though the weight of the question pressed heavier than he expected. He lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. “Yeah. I’m cool with it. The couch and my bed aren't going to complain.”

Before Kellin could reply, Justin’s voice blared out from the phone speaker: “Oh my god, Kellin, you have a vampire boyfriend.”

The words landed with the force of a thrown stone. Vic’s cheeks flushed before he could stop it. He coughed, quickly pretending to be busy rinsing out his mug. The sound of Kellin groaning didn’t help.

“Shut up, Justin,” Kellin barked into the phone, leaning back against the couch cushions. “We’re not- we’re just roommates. Okay? Roommates.”

“Roommates who cuddle?” Justin shot back without missing a beat.

“ Dude! ” Kellin’s ears went red as he dragged a hand over his face. “You’re the worst.”

Vic turned, unable to resist watching the exchange play out. His heart thudded in his chest in a way that made him feel off. Justin’s words weren’t meant to be serious, Vic knew that. But the way Kellin floundered and dismissed it so quickly sent Vic’s mind spiraling.

Because wasn’t there some truth in it?

They weren’t dating, though they weren’t enemies anymore either. The past week it felt like something had been threaded between them, a friendship sure but one soaked in kisses that bled and whispered truths Kellin hadn’t remembered until Vic pushed him. It was messy.

It wasn’t just roommates. Not to him.

His chest squeezed tight as he busied himself drying the mug he’d already washed twice. He tried to smother the thought, but it pushed louder anyway: I have feelings for him.

It wasn’t simple attraction or curiosity either, it was too tangled in the deep to escape. Feelings for the werewolf he used to argue with in crowded rooms, whose sharp words had cut just as much as they’d challenged him, whose presence had always lingered even when they were avoiding each other. Now Kellin was here in his space, curled up on his couch with sleep-heavy eyes and laughter that broke through the grief. And Vic was starting to want more.

Meanwhile, Kellin and Justin were still going back and forth.

“I told you, we’re not dating,” Kellin snapped. “I’m staying here until I figure my shit out, that’s it.”

“Sure, Kellin. Keep telling yourself that. Next you’ll say you’re just roommates who share blankets, eat together, and make googly eyes during Buffy marathons, oh wait- you already are.”

Vic’s blush deepened as he shifted his weight, suddenly hyper-aware of every Buffy night, every glance, every brush of Kellin’s shoulder against his.

Kellin groaned again, throwing his head back against the couch cushion. “Justin, shut up, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“I’m embarrassing you.”

“You are!”

Vic watched, caught between wanting to step in and defend Kellin and wanting to disappear into the floor. The word boyfriend kept circling in his head, buzzing like a wasp under a glass. He exhaled, trying to push down the chaos in his chest, but it only left him with the thought: What the hell are we, anyway?

“Justin.” Kellin was pinching the bridge of his nose now, the frustration in his voice nearly vibrating through the speaker.

But Justin wasn’t done. “Look, man, I don’t care what label you slap on it. You’re staying at his place, eating his food, wearing his clothes probably, right? Tell me you’re not. Next thing you’ll say he’s tucking you in at night-”

“Jesus Christ, Justin!” Kellin barked, his ears bright red. He darted a glance toward Vic, who was still rinsing the same damn mug in the sink. “He’s helping me out, alright? That’s it. You don’t have to make it weird.”

“I’m not making it weird, you are,” Justin sing-songed. “Roommates don’t stare at each other the way you just-”

That was it. With a sharp huff, Kellin jabbed the screen ending the call mid-laugh. The silence that followed was deafening. He slumped back into the couch cushions, his phone sliding onto the coffee table like it weighed fifty pounds. He buried his face in his hands for a second, and then when he finally peeked through his fingers, Vic was still there. Standing by the sink. Mug in hand still. Eyes soft, but undeniably watching. Kellin’s stomach flipped. Heat rose up his neck. “You… you heard all that, didn’t you?”

Vic set the mug down carefully. He tried for nonchalant, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Kind of hard not to.”

Kellin groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “God, I’m sorry. He doesn’t know when to shut up. He thinks he’s funny. He’s not.”

Vic tilted his head, lips twitching despite himself. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s-” Kellin cut himself off, suddenly shifting on the couch, his eyes darting up to Vic and then down again. His voice dropped, almost shy but colored with mischief. “You’re… kind of cute when you blush, you know that?”

The words slipped out like a stone skipping across water, and Kellin’s eyes went wide the second they left his mouth. He scrambled, his cheeks blazing red. “I- shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean- I mean, I did, but fuck.” He buried his face in his hands again. “Forget I said that.”

For a moment, Vic just blinked at him then a giggle bubbled out of his chest, light and soft. “Kellin,” he said, stepping closer, his tone both amused and fond. “It’s fine. Really.”

Kellin peeked up through his fingers, wide-eyed, and still flustered. Vic leaned down, pressing the briefest kiss to the top of his head. A gesture tender enough to silence the wolf’s jittering nerves. Then he straightened, grabbing his bag from the counter. “I’ve got to run. Restorative art class waits for no one.”

Kellin stayed on the couch, blinking up at him. He was bright red and dazed, but there was the faintest curl of a smile tugging at his lips. Kellin’s pulse was still in Vic’s ears as he shut the apartment door behind him. He leaned against it for a second, his bag dangling from one shoulder, trying to breathe like he hadn’t just walked out of a burning building. The words “you’re cute when you blush” looping in Vic’s head like a record skipping. He swore under his breath, forcing himself down the stairs two at a time. His Corolla sat waiting in the half-empty parking lot, its white paint dulled by years of sun. He thought it was exactly what he needed to cool his head, but climbing into the driver’s seat he knew it was no use. He started the engine, the familiar hum grounding him as he gripped the wheel tighter than necessary. Thirty minutes early by his phone’s clock but if he’d stayed another second in that apartment with Kellin sprawled on the couch Vic knew he would’ve done something stupid.

And stupid with Kellin wasn’t just stupid. It was dangerous.

“God, I’m so screwed,” Vic muttered, shoving the Corolla into gear. He pulled out of the lot, the cool morning light spilling across his windshield, the streets still half-asleep.

By the time he hit campus, he’d repeated the same thought ten times: thirty minutes early is better than thirty seconds more of temptation. He parked, slung his bag across his shoulder, and let the weight of his class press down on him instead of Kellin’s gaze. The mortuary science lab smelled faintly of formaldehyde and disinfectant, the tile floors gleamed as Vic noticed rows of workstations lined with mannequin heads, wax tools, pigment palettes, and mortuary textbooks. At the front of the room stood Professor Alvarado, a broad-shouldered vampire with dark hair tied neatly back and a sharp gaze behind his glasses.

“Good morning, everyone,” Alvarado said, his voice smooth and accented with centuries of patience. “Today we’re continuing our work on tissue restoration. Specifically lacerations and abrasions of the face. You’ll be practicing wax restoration, tint blending, and the use of cosmetics to achieve a natural appearance. Remember our work is not to beautify . Our work is to restore.”

Vic took his seat near the middle, unpacking his kit. Wooden spatulas, mortuary wax, spatters of color theory charts. His classmates murmured greetings, some still groggy, some whispering nervously about their practice models. Alvarado dimmed the lights just slightly, projecting slides onto the front board. Photographs of case studies with scars, sutures, jagged tears repaired through meticulous technique were shown. “You will begin with your mannequin models. Simulate the trauma using shallow cuts. Then, layer wax in thin increments, smoothing, texturing, and blending until invisible. Afterward, we will practice airbrushing cosmetics. Precision is key. Family members want to remember their loved ones as if they were unchanged.”

Vic’s hands moved automatically, muscle memory from weeks of practice guiding him. He shaved a thin groove into the waxed mannequin face, mimicking a gash then with a warmed spatula, he began pressing the mortuary putty into place.

He could hear Alvarado pacing, speaking in the steady cadence of someone who had been teaching this lesson for decades, maybe centuries. “Remember, tissue builder is injected hypodermically to restore collapsed features. Lips, temples, cheeks, sunken areas. Wax is your sculptor’s clay. Learn it. It will cover what injections cannot.”

Vic’s mind should’ve been fully on the work, but Kellin kept creeping in, the way his ears pinked at the tips, the quiet tremor in his voice when he’d said sorry for blurting out a compliment. He pressed harder than he meant to, nearly denting the wax. He shook his head and refocused. He reached for the pigments, mixing a flesh shade that matched the mannequin’s tone and painting it carefully over the repaired laceration. The cut vanished into the skin.

Alvarado’s voice carried on. “Restorative art is compassion made tangible. We are called into people’s worst days and asked to make them bearable.”

Vic swallowed, that was why he loved it. It was not just artistry, but caretaking. The quiet service of putting broken things back together so the living could breathe again, maybe that was why Kellin tugged at him the same way. Vic smoothed the last layer of wax over the mannequin’s jawline, trying to get the faint scar he’d carved earlier to disappear. The spatula clicked against the table as he set it down, and for a long moment he just stared at the blank face in front of him. It was supposed to be practice but his head wasn’t in the game. His head was with Kellin, the same way it always seemed to be lately. Kellin wasn’t wax, he wasn’t a mannequin, and he wasn’t someone Vic could just restore and hand back to a grieving family. Kellin was alive, but sick in a way that restoration couldn’t fix. Kellin was sick with something that chewed at his insides when he was alone, that made his body ache until his voice shook, that threatened to drag him down even when he tried so hard to act fine.

And Vic loved him.

He didn’t even know when it had happened. Somewhere between Kellin’s laughter, and the way he looked so surprised whenever Vic was kind to him like nobody had been for a long, long time. Vic pressed the wax too hard. The repair dented under his thumb, smearing pigment. His breath caught in frustration and he pulled back staring at the mess he’d made.

God, he was too far gone.

He’d read about this feeling from partners of people with chronic illnesses, pouring out their guts in threads that lasted years. “I love them, but sometimes it's so hard.” “I’m terrified they’ll push me away when it gets bad.” “How do you build a life with someone whose body betrays them?”

Vic remembered scrolling until dawn, and now here he was doing the exact thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do. Falling for someone sick. Vic ducked his head, forcing himself to focus again. The rest of class passed in a blur, Vic took notes mechanically as he worked on his lab, but his thoughts were miles away. By the time he was dismissed with a confirmation that he’d done a great job, his chest felt heavy enough to crush him. He packed his kit, slung his bag over his shoulder, and slipped out into the hall. The campus was alive with chatter, students filing between classes, and dead leaves dragging across the pavement in gusts of wind. Vic pulled out his phone. His thumb hovered. He should text Kellin something normal. Instead, his fingers betrayed him.

Vic: hey. you busy?

And before he could stop himself, he hit send directly to Gerard Way.

The name lit up on his screen like a curse. Gerard, the one who’d drifted in and out of his life like smoke. A fling and comfort he shouldn’t have leaned on, but did when he was lonely. Someone who knew too much about his bad habits and not enough about his heart.

The regret was instant. “Fuck,” Vic whispered, raking a hand through his hair. His stomach dropped, his whole body buzzing like he’d just stepped off a cliff. Gerard was safe in a way Kellin wasn’t, she was someone he didn’t have to worry about loving. Kellin wasn’t temporary. He wasn’t casual. He was everything Vic had been trying not to admit he wanted. He’d just texted the wrong person, that’s all. Vic shoved his phone back in his pocket, heart pounding, already rehearsing excuses in case Gerard replied. Already spiraling at the thought that Kellin would somehow know. Because maybe Vic deserved that. Maybe he didn’t deserve someone like Kellin at all.

Vic’s hands tightened around the steering wheel of his Corolla as he drove back toward his apartment. 

You fell back into it again , he scolded himself silently. Gerard was comfort in the most twisted sense of the word, she was detached, a distraction that didn’t ask for more than Vic could give. With Gerard, there were no strings and no real risk. But with Kellin…? Every touch, every glance, every moment felt like falling headfirst into something he couldn’t crawl out of and that terrified him more than anything else. The drive home was a haze of shame and self-reproach. He told himself a dozen times he’d delete the message, block Gerard, pretend it never happened. He promised himself Kellin didn’t need to know about this relapse into bad patterns. He promised himself it didn’t matter.

But when he pulled into his parking spot, his phone buzzed.

Gerard: 

need a few hours tonight?

Vic’s stomach dropped.

He stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard, heart hammering. His instinct was to reply and sink into the safety net of something meaningless before he got burned by something real. But his body wouldn’t move. He just sat there, phone heavy in his hand until the buzzing of the engine cooling filled the silence. He shoved the phone back into his pocket before he could make another mistake then he dragged himself out of the car, slinging his bag over his shoulder, rehearsing his face into something neutral. When he opened the apartment door, warmth hit him first. The smell of coffee lingering from the morning, the faint sound of music from Kellin’s phone somewhere inside and then Kellin himself, standing near the kitchen doorway, barefoot in one of Vic’s shirts that was just a little too big for him, sleeves falling over his hands.

“Hey,” Kellin said, voice soft but bright. His lips tilted into that half-smile that Vic swore could break him in half. “You’re back earlier than I thought.”

Vic exhaled slowly, tension easing just a little at the sight of him. “Yeah. Class ended on time for once.”

Kellin padded forward, his wolfish energy muted but present in the way he moved, loose and alert at the same time. “How was it? You looked like you had a big one today.”

Vic set his bag down carefully, like any sudden movement might give away the text message still on his phone. “Restorative art,” he answered, forcing a smile. “We were doing facial reconstruction. Technical stuff, but important. People don’t want to remember their loved one’s broken.”

Kellin tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “That… sounds really intense.”

Vic nodded slowly, throat tight. “Yeah. In a way. It’s about making grief a little less unbearable. About giving people one last memory that feels… like the person they knew.”

Kellin blinked at him for a long moment, and then a small smile tugged at his lips. “That’s… actually really beautiful, Vic.”

And just like that, Vic’s heart clenched. Because here he was standing in front of someone who made him feel seen, and in his pocket sat a message from Gerard Way that was unanswered, threatening to pull him right back into patterns that would only ruin Kellin. At some point during Kellin’s rambling, the two had wandered over to the couch. Vic listened to Kellin’s voice as he rambled about something, the music on his phone Vic thinks, but the words blurred together. He nodded when it felt appropriate, tried to keep his expression soft but his head was miles away. The unanswered text from Gerard sat in his pocket like a burning coal. It was pathetic, wasn’t it? One little relapse into old patterns because he got too upset, and he was already chewing himself apart over it.

It doesn’t mean anything . Gerard’s just Gerard. It’s not like you and Kellin are… anything. You’re roommates. That’s all. He just needs stability, someone to crash with. You’re a warm body, nothing more.

He told himself all of it, but he still couldn’t quite believe it.

Because Kellin’s laugh wasn’t just background noise. Kellin in his too-big shirt and sweater paws, looked more at home here than Vic ever had. Kellin’s head against his chest two nights ago hadn’t felt like a roommate thing, it had felt like the universe turning everything upside down and saying this is where you belong.

And now, as Kellin was halfway through a story about some dumb thing Jaime had done back when they were freshmen, Vic realized he hadn’t heard a single word of it. His chest felt too tight. His mouth was dry.

“Kellin,” he interrupted, sharper than he meant to.

Kellin blinked, pausing mid-sentence. “Uh… yeah?”

Vic swallowed hard. He hadn’t planned it, hadn’t even decided to say it, but the words slipped out anyway. “What are we?”

The silence that followed was thick and painful. Kellin’s jaw actually dropped a little, his lips parting like he’d been sucker punched. His cheeks went red so fast it was almost comical, but the way he stammered made Vic’s stomach twist.

“I- uh, wha-” Kellin’s voice cracked, eyes darting anywhere but Vic’s. “We’re- I don’t- Vic, I…” He rubbed at the back of his neck like a nervous teenager. For once, the wolf in him didn’t give him easy confidence. He was just stunned, wide-eyed, and struggling to find words. Vic’s stomach dropped the second the words left his mouth. Kellin’s face was too much. Way too much. Vic cringed so hard he swore he could fold into himself, shaking his head like maybe he could rewind the last thirty seconds.

“I- shit, sorry,” Vic blurted, his voice cracking. His hands lifted halfway, palms open in a helpless gesture before falling again. “Forget I asked, okay? That was stupid. I didn’t mean it like that, I was just-” His chest squeezed like a vice as the truth pressed against his tongue, raw and ugly.

“I texted-” He caught himself, choking on the word, but it was too late. His throat locked, his eyes darting anywhere but Kellin’s. “Gerard texted me.”

The correction was pathetic, even to his own ears.

Kellin froze. He didn’t even blink at first, like his body was trying to process the sudden redirection before his brain did. Then his expression sharpened, shock giving way to something darker. His jaw set and his lips pulled into a thin line, and when his eyes finally met Vic’s again they were bright and blazing.

“You texted Gerard?” His voice was low, edged with that wolfish growl that crept out when his emotions spiked.

Vic opened his mouth, fumbling, words tripping over each other before they even formed. “No, I- he texted me first, I didn’t- Kellin, it’s not-”

“Don’t you lie to me.” Kellin’s tone was sharp enough to cut, his whole body snapping upright like a spring. His fists clenched against his knees. “Vic, why the fuck would you do that?”

Vic’s heart felt like it had dropped into his stomach, he felt like he was going to pass out. Vic wanted to look away, to shield himself, but the fury pouring out of Kellin rooted him in place.

“You texted Gerard?” Kellin said again, his voice rising, teeth gritted. “After everything ? Are you fucking kidding me, Vic?”

Vic’s breath hitched. His throat worked around words that wouldn’t come out right, each one dissolving before it formed. He lifted his hands, palms open in helpless defense. “Kellin, no- I didn’t- he texted me first, I swear, I didn’t even-”

“Don’t.” Kellin cut him off with a sharp gesture, his whole body trembling. “Don’t even try.” His voice cracked halfway through, the anger shading into something more dangerous, something raw. “Why? Just tell me why the hell you’d do that.”

Vic shook his head, chest collapsing on itself, shame crashing like waves over him. His mouth opened and closed before he finally managed to rasp out, “I don’t know, okay? I-” His voice cracked, and he swore under his breath, forcing the words out. “I’ve been thinking about what your mom said. At breakfast. When she called.”

The change in Kellin’s expression was subtle, his anger wavered, confusion and hurt flashing across his face. “You’ve been thinking about that?” Kellin’s voice rose. “That’s your excuse? My mom calls me, screams at me, threatens my life, and somehow you’re the one who gets to spiral and text Gerard?”

Vic flinched, his stomach twisting into knots. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words spilling out before he could hold them back. “I’m sorry, Kellin. I just- I’ve been sitting on it for days. Everything she said about me ruining you, about you being worthless for being with me. It got stuck in my head, and I couldn’t shake it.” His voice broke, his eyes stinging hot. “And now I feel like maybe she’s right. Maybe I’ll ruin you.”

Kellin froze. His chest heaved with lips parted as if he’d been about to say something but forgot how. For an extremely long second, the room hung silent except for the sound of Vic’s words echoing in the air between them. Kellin shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping that wasn’t funny at all.

“You already have, ” Kellin choked, his voice shaking. His hands curled into fists at his sides, shoulders trembling. “Don’t you get it, Vic? You- you already fucking have.”

Vic’s heart stuttered, his stomach flipping cold. “Kellin..”

Before he could finish, Kellin moved. He surged forward, closing the distance and grabbed the front of Vic’s shirt like he was afraid Vic would slip through his fingers. His mouth crashed against Vic’s, more with desperation than grace. Vic gasped into the kiss, caught between guilt and shock as his hands flew up to steady Kellin’s arms. Kellin’s lips were hot, trembling with need, fury, and grief. Vic’s head spun, his lungs burning with how fast Kellin kissed him, how much he needed to be close. Kellin broke the kiss only to breathe against his mouth, his forehead pressed hard to Vic’s. His breath came ragged, his voice cracking when he spoke. “You don’t get to ruin me, Vic. You don’t get to decide that. I’m already ruined, okay? You already-” His words cut off in a sob, muffled as he kissed Vic again, even harder, as if trying to prove his point by force.

Vic’s body shook, the apology bubbling up again even as he kissed back, hands trembling where they clung to Kellin’s arms. He wanted to say he was sorry, wanted to say he’d never text Gerard again, that Kellin mattered more than anyone ever had. But the words wouldn’t come, trapped under the weight of Kellin’s mouth, the heat of Kellin’s tears hitting his skin. The kiss softened only slightly, desperation bleeding into something slower, something aching. Kellin’s hands loosened on Vic’s shirt, sliding up to cradle his jaw, thumbs brushing hot against his cheekbones as if to ground himself there. Vic let himself sink into it, heart hammering, his guilt and longing tangling into one unbearable knot. Kellin’s lips trembled against his, breaking the kiss with another ragged breath. His voice cracked, a broken whisper. “Don’t leave me. Don’t ruin this, Vic. Please.”

“I won’t,” Vic whispered, his voice hoarse, raw. “I won’t ruin this. I swear. I’m sorry, Kellin. I’m so sorry.”

Kellin didn’t answer as he took a step back, his chest was still heaving with tears burning his eyes, the brief kiss had fanned the flame of his anger more- twisting his anger and need together until he couldn’t separate one from the other. His pulse was too loud in his ears, the ache in his ribs a familiar warning that he was spiraling too fast, too hard. Vic just stood there in front of him, looking guilty, like if Vic breathed wrong Kellin would snap again. Something inside Kellin snapped at that pity look, some ugly frantic part of him that refused to let Vic retreat took over. He refused to let him hide behind apologies like everyone else. So he kissed him again. Hard. His hands slammed against Vic’s chest, shoving him back step by stumbling step. Vic gasped into the kiss, his back hitting the doorframe, teeth clacking against Kellin’s before he stumbled further. Kellin was still pushing and demanding. The next shove sent Vic backwards through the bedroom door, the air leaving him in a startled grunt as his calves hit the edge of the bed. He fell back, catching himself on his elbows, eyes wide and lips swollen from the kiss.

Kellin followed, shoving him flat against the mattress. His voice came out low, shaking, but full of fire. His hand weaved into Vic’s hair, pulling it back and forcing eye contact. “You don’t get to fuck this up, Vic. You don’t get to walk in here, make me feel like this, and then break me. Do you understand me, Fuentes?” 

Vic’s chest rose and fell in a frantic rhythm, his hands trembling where they hovered near Kellin’s waist as if afraid to touch, afraid to make it worse. But his eyes never left Kellin’s. He swallowed hard, nodding once, then a second time, his voice cracking when he spoke. “I won’t. I swear, Kellin. I’ll do anything. Just don’t push me away. Please.”

Kellin’s throat tightened, the wolf inside clawing at the edges of him. His hand shot out grabbing Vic’s wrist, his grip firm enough to make Vic hiss quietly. He tugged Vic’s hand up, pressing it against his chest where his heart hammered wild beneath his ribs. 

“You feel that?” Kellin’s voice wavered, but his words cut sharp, his tone desperate. “That’s my trust. That’s everything I’ve got left. You break it, Vic, and I’m done. Forever. You hear me?”

Vic’s eyes shone wet as he nodded again, his free hand lifting shakily until his fingers brushed against Kellin’s hip. “I hear you,” he whispered. “I won’t. I’ll do anything.”

Kellin’s jaw clenched, his chest aching as the wolf raged, demanding release. He straddled Vic’s hips, his thighs bracketing the vampire and pinning him down without effort. His hand slid up, trembling but purposeful, tracing the line of Vic’s neck until his palm rested just under his jaw. He could feel the cool thrum of Vic’s body beneath his hand, the weak (almost absence) of a pulse even though to Vic it felt like he was dying (again.) Vic shuddered at the touch, his breath catching as his lips parted. His gaze flicked from Kellin’s burning eyes to the hand on his throat, then back up again. He didn’t fight it, he just let Kellin hold him there. The swirl of emotions between them grew almost unbearable. It was filled with anger, grief, desperation, and underneath it all, a longing so strong it felt like it could rip them both in half. Kellin leaned down, crushing his mouth against Vic’s again, kissing him with everything inside him. Vic kissed back just as desperately, his hands finally moving, clutching at Kellin’s hips like he couldn’t hold him close enough. Kellin’s grip on his throat tightened just enough, his thumb brushing the sharp edge of Vic’s jaw as his teeth grazed Vic’s lip. The kiss turned frantic and sloppy, Kellin’s chest pressed hard against Vic’s as if to fuse them together. He broke away only to breathe, panting into Vic’s mouth. “Don’t ruin me. Don’t you dare fucking ruin me.”

Vic’s voice was hoarse and pathetic, trembling as he rasped back, “I won’t. I swear, Kellin. You’re- God, you’re everything, I won’t-”

The sound of Vic’s voice undid Kellin. He kissed him again, harsher, swallowing the apology before it could break them further, shoving down the ache of betrayal and fear until all that was left was this moment: Vic beneath him, trembling with want as he makes feeble attempts at promising to never hurt him again. Kellin’s wolf howled inside him, his hand stayed firm at Vic’s throat to remind Vic that he was Kellin’s and this was real now, and if they broke it, Kellin didn’t know if he’d survive. Vic’s teeth grazed Kellin’s lip, a sharp sting that made Kellin whimper, the sound low and animalistic. Panic flared in Vic for half a heartbeat, he’d never meant to hurt him but then the metallic tang hit his tongue, raw and intoxicating. A deep low moan escaped Vic as the taste sent shivers down him, and instinct overrode his hesitation. He muttered against Kellin’s lips, his fangs making Kellin’s lips dribble in gentle ringlets. “You taste like heaven.”

Kellin moaned wolfish and pleading, and Vic’s hands immediately went to cradle his face. Kellin didn’t pull away; instead, he deepened the kiss hungrily, letting the heat of the moment take over. Kellin’s hands shot up, claws scraping across Vic’s neck as the wolf in him flared. The small cuts bloomed bright, and Vic shivered with the thrill arching slightly into the touch. Even as the kiss left both of them gasping, Vic’s hands stayed anchored at Kellin’s face and neck, tracing the sharp lines and the trembling muscles. He pulled back only enough to let Kellin catch a breath, lips brushing his in a soft almost reverent way before diving back in, drinking in both the taste and the desperation. Kellin whimpered back into the kiss, wolf-instinct raw in the sound, his nails clawing into Vic’s shoulders hard enough to sting. The pain only blurred into the haze of desire. Something inside Vic snapped, and in one swift motion he rolled them, pinning Kellin beneath him. His thighs straddled Kellin’s hips, keeping him down as Vic deepened the kiss again, chasing the coppery sweetness.

“Fuck…” Vic breathed against Kellin’s mouth, voice breaking with hunger and want. He trailed hot kisses down Kellin’s jaw, then to his throat, lingering at the steady thrum of his pulse. Vic’s chest rose and fell fast, not only from arousal but from how alive he felt, he felt more alive than he had in years.

Vic pressed his lips right against the curve of Kellin’s neck, fangs grazing just enough to threaten. His voice came out low, shaky, and desperate. “Kellin…” He kissed the spot gently, before daring to whisper, “Let me draw blood again. Please. You don’t know what it’s doing to me- I feel like I can breathe again.”

Kellin shuddered beneath him, a sharp inhale escaping him. His wolf growled low in his chest, torn between instinct and vulnerability, but his hands tangled in Vic’s shirt pulling him closer instead of pushing away despite his inner wolf protesting. Vic’s breath hitched at the silent permission. He kissed Kellin’s throat again, softer this time, almost trembling with restraint. “Tell me it’s okay verbally,” he murmured, lips brushing the heat of his skin. “I don’t want to take it if you don’t want me to.”

Kellin’s nails scraped down his back, drawing faint lines of pain that only made Vic’s head spin more. The wolf in Kellin whined and the noise he made was such a desperate sound it made Vic want to bite him immediately, as he spoke his voice came out rough and broken. “Do it.”

Kellin’s body trembled under him, every nerve raw with the sensation. He whimpered again, curling into Vic with his claws digging just enough to draw blood again. Vic shivered, moaning low as he kissed him again. The bite and the scratches only made him crave more of Kellin. Vic’s breath hitched as he shifted his weight forward, straddling Kellin’s hips and grinding his cock harshly against Kellin’s, pinning him to the mattress with a suddenness that made Kellin gasp against his lips. The kiss broke, their mouths parting with a wet sound, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Vic’s chest was heaving, Kellin’s pupils were blown wide, both of them staring at each other like they weren’t sure which one had shocked each other more. Then Vic bent down, his lips brushing Kellin’s throat as he murmured hoarsely. “Just… just a taste, I swear.”

Kellin shivered beneath him, his back arching as if the statement itself pulled on some animalistic part of him like a dog on a leash. His voice cracked when he whispered. “Y-Yeah. Please.”

That was all the permission Vic needed. His mouth pressed to Kellin’s neck, tongue flicking over the sensitive skin before his fangs sank just enough to pierce. The instant they broke through, Kellin let out a sound that wasn’t quite human, it was a whorish moan that echoed in the small bedroom, vibrating up through Vic’s mouth as he drank. Vic whimpered into the bite, the taste of Kellin flooding his tongue. His hands roamed without thought, sliding up Kellin’s sides and over his ribs, feeling the tremors rippling through him. Kellin writhed, clutching at Vic’s shoulders with claws that weren’t claws but sharp enough; his nails dragged over tan skin until Vic whimpered against his throat, the pain mixing with the sweetness of the blood. Pleasure spilled down Kellin’s body in waves, every nerve lit like firecrackers. The bite wasn’t painful after a moment. His hips ground up against Vic’s in a rhythm that was less thought more instinct, each movement punctuated by broken desperate noises falling from his lips. Vic’s mouth left the wound, it was swollen and slick with blood and he lapped at it hungrily, smearing crimson across his own chin. He moaned low in his chest, then trailed kisses lower down the arch of Kellin’s throat over his collarbone tasting sweat, skin, and the metallic tang of blood. His fingers dug into Kellin’s hips, thumbs pressing bruises into bone, holding him still as he kissed and nipped his way down. Kellin could barely think. His wolf was howling in the back of his head clawing at him, demanding he hold Vic tighter, kiss harder and claim Vic as his. His fingers tangled in Vic’s hair, tugging and guiding, keeping him close. His breath stuttered out when he felt Vic’s lips at the edge of his chest, teeth grazing and teasing enough that Kellin let out a choked sound.

“Vic-” His voice cracked, desperate. “You… you’re driving me fucking insane.”

Vic pulled back just enough to look at him, his lips smeared red, pupils wide, face flushed in a way Kellin had never seen before. His chest rose and fell fast, like he couldn’t catch his breath and the sight alone made Kellin’s heart hammer in his ribs. Kellin reached for him without thinking, intertwining their hands, grounding himself in the feel of Vic’s cold fingers wrapping around his. “Did I taste okay?” he rasped, voice shaking with more than just arousal. He craved praise despite being the one who initiated.

Vic’s eyes softened at the question, guilt flashing through them for just a heartbeat before the heat returned. His chest heaved as his lips parted, but he only nodded quickly. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Fuck, you tasted more than okay.” 

He kissed Kellin hard again for what seemed to be the thousandth time tonight. Kellin whined into it, hips grinding upwards again and pressing himself into Vic’s lap. Vic gasped into his mouth, answering the pressure with a roll of his own hips, the friction making Kellin’s back arch. The kiss was all tongue and teeth now, Kellin’s lip still bleeding faintly, and Vic couldn’t help the groan that escaped him when he tasted it again. He sucked at Kellin’s bottom lip until it throbbed, and Kellin moaned shamelessly beneath him. Kellin’s free hand roamed, dragging up under Vic’s shirt, tracing the sharp lines of his ribs and the smoothness of his stomach. His nails scratched lightly, leaving dark red trails that had Vic breaking the kiss with a gasp, throwing his head back with a moan and a stutter of his hips. Kellin took the opportunity to flip them back over so Vic was pressed against the bed again. Sending kisses along Vic’s jaw, down the column of his throat, tongue dragging slow and possessive over tan skin before he bit lightly at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He promptly removed the vampire's shirt before going back to it.

“Sorry,” Kellin mumbled against his skin, though his lips didn’t stop moving, kissing and nipping down his chest. “You’re going to look fucked up tomorrow.”

Vic shuddered, his eyes fluttering shut as Kellin’s mouth left wet trails down his torso. “Don’t- don’t apologize,” he breathed out, his voice thin and almost cracking. He sounded pathetic. “You don’t… you don’t even know what you’re doing to me right now.”

Kellin hummed low in his throat, wolfish as though satisfied with his mate’s reaction and let his teeth scrape gently over one of Vic’s nipples just to hear him gasp again. His hands slid down Vic’s back squeezing the firm muscle there, and when he felt Vic arch into him, a smug smile tugged at his lips.

Some part of him softened at the closeness of their hands still tangled together. He pulled Vic back down by the wrist until their fingers were pressed between their chests, their knuckles digging into warm skin. “Stay with me,” he whispered, his words vulnerable despite the sexual tension burning between them. Vic’s heart twisted, breath catching as he looked down at him. His lips trembled as he nodded again, squeezing Kellin’s hand like he could anchor both of them with that one touch.

Kellin smiled up at him, eyes glassy with lust and something deeper. Affection, maybe? His voice came out low, rough, but steadier than Vic felt inside. “Can I claim you?”

The question made Vic freeze. His body stilled, his mouth parted as a blush began rushing up his cheeks so fast it almost made him dizzy. “C-Claim me?” he stammered, his voice cracking like he had just spoken for the first time in years.

Kellin tilted his head, sensual and almost playful despite the wild heat in his gaze. His smile was soft. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Claim you. Make sure no one else gets you. Not Gerard, not anyone. Just… mine."

The room was alive with the two of them tangled together, there was something almost terrifying in the intensity of pressing them into each other. Vic’s moans mixed with Kellin’s whimpers and growls, nothing else existed but the primal bond flaring between them. Kellin pulled back just slightly, lips brushing along Vic’s jaw before trailing down his neck. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, careful now, whispering soft apologies against the warm flesh. Vic’s chest heaved, a low whimper of surprise and confusion escaping him. He pressed into the kisses with his mind spinning from the rush. He didn’t understand the possessive edge in Kellin’s movements all of a sudden, the way his hands roamed his chest and shoulders as if marking territory, the way Kellin was almost desperate to be close. None of the relationship boards, posts he’d read, or even the Reddit threads about werewolves and LWS had prepared him for this. He expected Kellin to continue to be distant and afraid like a lost dog while he took charge. He really liked not having to take charge. Kellin’s hands traced lower sliding along Vic’s sides, his fingertips skimming over the tan skin of his abdomen. He nipped gently at Vic’s collarbone and shoulder, leaving faint impressions that made Vic shiver. Vic’s head tilted back instinctively, lips parting in a quiet moan, caught somewhere between pleasure and bewilderment. Kellin leaned up into him again, brushing noses for a bunny kiss briefly before nipping Vic’s neck again, softer this time. His hands roamed with purpose, memorizing every curve while his wolf let out low whines of satisfaction, matching Vic’s spiraling sensations as they continued to lazily grind their hips together. Vic’s mind raced, heart flaring and all he could manage was a hoarse, “I… don’t understand. I mean. I-I’m loving this but.. what happened to just roommates?”

“I’m sorry about that.” Kellin whispered, pressing his forehead to Vic’s, voice almost reverent. “I care about you. More than I should probably admit.” 

Vic’s knees metaphorically weakened slightly under him, trembling against the onslaught of emotions. He felt anchored by Kellin’s gaze, still slightly confused by the possessiveness and sudden intimacy despite claiming to be roommates earlier that day. “Okay,” he whispered again, almost to himself but he meant it for Kellin, letting him know he was present, that he was still with him in the moment despite already looking fucked out his mind. He just didn’t know how to respond to Kellin’s confession properly.

Kellin’s lips found Vic’s again, softer this time. Vic’s hands hesitated, then slowly curled into Kellin’s hair and slid down his back, tentative but growing in confidence, letting himself be held, letting himself feel the wolf in a way he hadn’t before. The room was silent except for their breaths and the faint scrape of nails and teeth, an intimacy built on trust, desire, and raw need. Kellin’s wolf whimpered quietly into the kiss as Vic’s mind spiraled through an unfamiliar unspoken connection he was only just beginning to understand. Vic pulled back slightly, just enough to catch his breath, chest heaving with the intensity of the moment. His gaze softened but held a flicker of guilt, and he murmured, “Since… you’re free from your parents, do you… want to smoke with me? Relax a bit before we continue?”

“Do you want to stop?” Kellin shot back, tilting his head like a confused dog. “We can-”

“No- No, I want to continue. I just… the blood- I have to take a break.” Vic interrupted.

Kellin blinked at him, thrown by the urgency in Vic’s voice. It was only then that he actually saw him, how blown and glassy Vic’s eyes were, how raw and scary they looked in the low light, a need simmering there that Kellin couldn’t ignore. Vic’s chest heaved like he’d been running, his lips red and swollen. There was dried blood clinging to his chin, a sharp contrast against his skin. The sight hit Kellin hard, a coil of panic curling in his gut as his wolf stirred awake again. For a split second, his instincts screamed predator, run . Vic didn’t look human, he looked like something that should have been hunting him. The wolf inside him wanted to snap, to bare teeth and fight, to protect its host from the danger right in front of them but Kellin’s rational mind shoved back against the instinct, shushing it, because this was Vic. His wolf was panicking because it recognized the predator, but Kellin also recognized the man that Vic was. 

“Neither of us has work or class tomorrow.” Vic continued after a moment. His voice was tentative, almost apologetic, as if asking permission to bridge the emotional gap that still lingered. “Do you think it’ll help you forgive my mistake?”

Kellin paused, feeling the warmth of Vic beneath him, the pull of his hips pressing gently against Vic’s lap, a slow and teasing rhythm that made the vampire shiver. He let himself grind just slightly, contemplative, letting the motion be both provocative and providing a breather. “I… I don’t know,” Kellin admitted, voice low and rough, eyes half-lidded as he watched Vic. “Maybe… maybe. Maybe I just want to fuck you.”

Vic’s hands found Kellin’s hips, guiding him subtly, though not forcefully, allowing the werewolf’s movement to dictate the pace. His own mind was a tangle of guilt and desire, spinning over the text he’d sent, and the way Kellin had caught the slip so quickly. “As if I'd bottom…” Vic murmured, lips brushing Kellin’s shoulder, “I just… I keep thinking I’ll ruin you somehow.”

Kellin’s brows furrowed in the briefest flash of frustration, wolfish instincts tangling with human emotion. “I want you to ruin me,” he said softly, his voice husky. His body still pressed against Vic, letting the small, controlled movements of their hips soothe him while he tried to gather his thoughts. “But… yeah, I’m mad… I’m allowed to be.”

Vic let out a slow breath, head tilting down to press a fleeting kiss to Kellin's jaw. “I know,” he whispered, “I just… I want to make it right.” He traced gentle circles along Kellin’s hips, letting his fingers linger where the werewolf’s tension was most palpable, trying to soothe him without pushing too far.

Kellin’s wolf whined lowly in his mind, half agitated and half comforted, he leaned closer, grinding just slightly more insistently, testing boundaries and allowing himself a hint of need. His mind was messy, spinning through desire, anger, guilt, and the residual flare of Lone Wolf Syndrome that still prickled along his ribs. “I just… need you constantly,” he admitted, voice breaking just slightly like he was at confession and Vic was the priest. 

Vic’s heart stuttered at the admission. He leaned in closer, letting their foreheads touch, as he was murmuring reassurance. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, voice low but steady, grounding Kellin with every word. His hands stayed firm on Kellin’s hips, not controlling but supporting, letting the man find a rhythm. Kellin closed his eyes, letting the small, deliberate motions of his hips against Vic’s lap and the warmth of his presence anchor him. He exhaled slowly, letting tension bleed out with each breath, wolfish growls mixing with human sighs. “I… It's a wolf thing.” He said softly, hesitant but honest, acknowledging the biological need. His inner wolf crying and whining in the back of his mind to just claim , claim , claim , HIS mate.

Vic pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Kellin’s neck, murmuring into the skin, “You don't need to explain. I get it, I took biology.” Kellin let himself sink a little more, the mix of physical closeness and emotional honesty making them both shiver. Their quiet, intimate exchange stretched, punctuated only by the low hum of their breaths and the slight rhythm of movement. Vic’s guilt lingered like a shadow behind every kiss and touch, but he let himself be grounded by Kellin’s presence, feeling the wolf’s need for comfort and closeness, and allowing himself the vulnerability of caring so deeply.

Kellin’s thoughts wove between the urge to forgive, the heat of desire, and the tentative trust building between them, letting Vic guide him gently without forcing answers. “I… think I want to,” he admitted after a long pause, letting the words float between them. His hands rested on Vic’s shoulders, fingers tracing lightly, grounding himself while continuing the slow, teasing pressure of his hips. “Smoke, I mean. Clearly we need to discuss who's topping afterwards.”

Vic exhaled, relief and tension mingling in equal measure. “Okay,” he whispered, voice low, confident, but with a hint of humor. “We’ll take it… one step at a time. No rush. No pressure.”

Kellin let himself nuzzle closer. “Good…,” he murmured, trusting Vic.

Vic shifted slightly on the bed, and reached for the small wooden tray by the nightstand. On it sat the weed, a grinder, and a tiny pipe Vic kept for nights when he needed to unwind. He was honestly surprised Kellin hadn't pointed it out sooner, but he was currently sober due to circumstances out of his control, so he guessed it wasn't on Kellin's mind. He began packing a bowl carefully, fingers steady but gentle and kept his eyes on Kellin, watching the subtle tension in his shoulders ease just a little.

“You haven’t… smoked or drank or done anything since that night in the club, right?” Vic asked quietly, voice low, almost cautious. He didn’t want to startle Kellin, just wanted the truth. The thought of Kellin shutting himself off and bottling up everything again tugged at him.

Kellin’s lips pressed together, a faint blush warming his cheeks. “No… not a thing,” he admitted, voice soft, almost sheepish. “Not since… well, since I almost shifted while on coke when you kissed Gerard.” His gaze dropped to the bedspread, fidgeting slightly, wolf instincts skimming along the edge of his nerves. “I didn’t want to risk it.”

Vic nodded, understanding more than he could say. “Yeah… I get that,” he murmured, pulling the grinder closer. “I just… thought a little now might help, you know? Relax a bit… take the edge off. You don’t have to, though. Only if you want.” His voice was gentle, patient, like he was coaxing a skittish animal.

Kellin hesitated, then slowly nodded. “Yeah… okay. Just a little.” He shifted closer, brushing his cheek against Vic’s shoulder as the wolf inside him hummed lowly.

Vic smiled faintly, and finished packing the bowl. He held it out to Kellin, who took it with a tentative hand, holding it as if it were fragile and leaning back. Vic’s gaze softened, and he watched as Kellin inhaled gently, letting the smoke curl around them after exhaling, hazy in the dim bedroom light. The first hit drew a sigh, human and wolf merging as the tension began to melt from Kellin’s shoulders. “Wow…” Kellin murmured, leaning back slightly, letting himself sink against Vic’s chest again. “I forgot… how… I don't know- how relaxing it could feel to actually relax.”

Vic rubbed small circles on his back, careful with the tender pressure. “Yeah… it’s okay,” he said softly. “You’ve been carrying a lot… since that night. And before that too, really. I know you haven’t had a break.”

Kellin’s tail of wolfish thought prickled, awareness mingling with relaxation, and he nuzzled closer. “I… I don’t usually let myself get like this,” he admitted quietly. “Unless I’m with Justin. Or… you.” His words stumbled out, shy, and half-embarrassed.

Vic’s hand lingered, brushing through Kellin’s hair and down his side. “I know,” he said gently. “I don’t expect you to. But… you can be here with me.”

Kellin exhaled slowly, letting the smoke and Vic’s reassurance mingle, his wolf and him alike softening under the combined weight of trust and intimacy. “Yeah… okay,” he murmured, voice husky. “Right now… just us.”

They sat together in quiet companionship for a few moments, the smoke curling around the room like a lazy fog. Vic watched Kellin relax, little hints of tension melting from his face and posture. “You know… you’ve been doing amazing,” Vic said quietly, almost to himself. “Trying to manage the flare-ups. I can see it, even when you can’t.”

Kellin’s lips twitched, a faint smile sneaking through. “I… guess I’m trying,” he whispered, leaning into Vic a bit more. “Even when it feels impossible.”

Vic’s chest ached just a little at the honesty. “I see it,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “And I… I like that you try. Even when it’s hard. I like that you fight for yourself even when you feel broken.”

Kellin let out a small, shaky laugh. “You make it sound heroic or something,” he said, his voice soft, eyes half-lidded, lingering on Vic’s face. “I’m just surviving.”

“You’re more than surviving,” Vic murmured, brushing a thumb along Kellin’s jawline. “And you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll help. Even if it’s just sitting here being present with you.”

Kellin inhaled deeply again, taking another hit, this one slower, letting the calm settle a little deeper. “I- I think I needed this more than I realized,” he admitted. “Being with someone… who doesn’t freak out. Who just lets me be a mess sometimes…” His voice trailed off, but Vic understood completely.

“You can be a mess with me,” Vic said, soft but firm, a grounding statement that filled the room with a quiet warmth. “I’ll take it. All of it. And I’ll still like you in the morning.”

Kellin snorted quietly, shaking his head against Vic’s chest. “That’s a bold promise.” His wolf whimpered lowly in his mind, nervous, but half-relieved. “I don’t usually get told I’m liked for this version of me. I’m better emotionally strong and submissive to authority.”

Vic smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of Kellin’s head, careful not to startle him. “You are liked,” he said, soft but unshakable. “By me right now. Even when you don’t see it.”

Kellin nuzzled closer, a low whimper escaping. “I think I needed to hear that,” he said quietly. His body leaned into Vic, softening further, the high of the smoke and the comfort of Vic’s presence knitting his scattered thoughts into a little more coherence.

Vic let his fingers wander gently through Kellin’s hair, across his shoulders, staying patient and letting Kellin dictate the pace. “Then stay like this for a while,” he murmured. 

Kellin exhaled slowly, curling slightly against Vic’s chest, allowing himself to finally relax in a way he hadn’t since the shift. “Yeah.” he whispered, letting the wolf calm under Vic’s patient touch, the smoke thick in the air but grounding, a small ritual of comfort and stability.

Vic took another slow drag from the pipe, the ember glowing orange for a moment before fading. He let the smoke roll lazily across his tongue, thick and sweet, then set the pipe carefully on the nightstand. His eyes stayed fixed on Kellin as he leaned closer, lips parting just enough to press against him. When Vic exhaled, the smoke slipped between them, a ghost of warmth passing from vampire to werewolf. The taste of it mixed with Vic’s mouth, sharp and intoxicating. Kellin made a sound low in his throat, a muffled moan swallowed into the kiss. He didn’t pull away, instead he leaned into it, hungry, like he wanted to drink the smoke straight from Vic’s lungs. The wolf inside him stirred, restless but curious. When Vic finally pulled back, Kellin chased him, eyes half-lidded, lips swollen and damp.

“Show-off,” Kellin whispered, but his voice shook with need more than irritation.

Vic smiled faintly, brushing his thumb along Kellin’s jaw. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see how you taste with smoke on your tongue.”

Kellin’s cheeks burned hot. He tried to scoff, but it came out too breathless, too soft. “And?”

Vic’s lips curved in something dangerous and tender all at once. “Better than I imagined.”

That was all it took. Kellin surged forward, kissing him again with a fervor that rattled Vic’s chest. Their mouths opened, smoke lingering faintly in the air between them, curling around their faces like a veil. It wasn’t just the kiss, it was the press of Kellin’s body, the urgency in his grip, the wolf demanding closeness as if it had been starved despite them never actually breaking apart for longer than a quick conversation. Vic let himself sink into it, hands sliding up Kellin’s back, tracing the sharp rise of muscle beneath the fabric. His body hummed with the familiar ache of restraint but tonight it was tangled with something else. Kellin wasn’t just a friend. He was warmth, gravity, the thing Vic’s chest kept caving toward.

Kellin pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead pressed hard against Vic’s. His eyes flickered in the dim light, pupils blown wide. “This is insane. I don’t know why I like you so much.”

Vic’s fingers dug gently at Kellin’s hips. “Be insane with me,” he murmured, lips brushing the edge of Kellin’s mouth. “Not like our entire situation isn't insane. I’ll make it worth your time.”

The words landed like a promise. Kellin shuddered, a low sound rumbling from his chest as his hands slid up, clutching Vic’s shoulders, and for a long moment neither of them moved. They just stayed pressed together, trembling with the weight of what they weren’t saying. The smoke still lingered, curling around the edges of the bed, seeping into their hair and clothes. It gave everything a hazy softness, like the night was holding them in its lungs too. Vic closed his eyes, letting himself lean forward until his lips brushed the side of Kellin’s throat. He kissed there, not biting, just letting his mouth linger on the warm pulse beneath the skin. Kellin’s breath hitched, his wolf clawing at the inside of his ribs, desperate for more, desperate to be marked.

“Vic…” Kellin whispered, and the way his voice cracked on the name was almost enough to undo him.

“I know,” Vic murmured against his skin. “I feel it too.”

His hands roamed carefully, reverent in their exploration, over Kellin’s ribs, his spine, his shoulders. Every touch made the wolf twitch and whine, but Kellin held still, letting it wash through him instead of pushing it away. For once, he didn’t try to cage it. For once, he let the wolf’s need blend with his own. Kellin kissed him again, his lips trembled, but the tenderness there was undeniable. Vic melted, his chest aching with something bigger than hunger. He let Kellin take the lead, Vic's cold fingers threading into warm hair, holding him close without demanding. The pipe on the nightstand still smoked faintly, its ember dying. The scent clung to them, earthy and rich like a reminder of the ritual they had shared. It blurred the edges of their thoughts, and loosened Kellin’s defenses. Kellin pulled back, panting lightly, eyes searching Vic’s face with a raw, open vulnerability.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” he whispered, almost afraid of the answer.

Vic blinked, his throat tight. His voice came out rough as he spoke. “Because I don’t know how not to. Not since the night in the bathroom.”

Kellin’s chest tightened, his wolf whining in his head. He wanted to snap, to deflect with sarcasm, to bury the heat rising in his throat. But he couldn’t. Not with Vic staring at him like he was something holy. So instead, he kissed him again, slow and deep, pouring everything he couldn’t say into the press of his lips. Vic moaned quietly into the kiss, his body arching toward Kellin’s, every nerve lit. He’d lived decades chasing fleeting highs, parties, drugs, quick fucks. But this- this was different. This was Kellin, trembling and fierce and so painfully alive. Vic’s hands shook as they held him, but he didn’t let go. Each kiss blurred into the next, each touch pulling them deeper. Their breaths tangled, their bodies pressed tight, the smoke wrapping them in a haze that felt almost protective. Neither of them spoke for a moment, too lost in the rhythm of each other. Eventually, Kellin broke the silence, his voice rough, low. “You’re not allowed to ruin me, remember?” His hands clenched against Vic’s shirt, as if holding him in place.

Vic swallowed hard, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were glassy, wet, but steady. “Then don’t let me,” he whispered. “Keep me here. With you. I don’t want anywhere else.”

Kellin’s breath stuttered, his wolf howling in his chest at the honesty of it. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to Vic’s again, desperate to seal the words in place. The kiss was messy and quick, but it was real.  When they broke apart again, Kellin’s lips curved into a teasing smirk, though his voice was still ragged. “So… if this goes further… who's on top?”

Vic blinked, heat rushing to his face. “You’re really asking that right now?”

Kellin shrugged, playful but with a wolfish gleam in his eye. “Kinda matters.”

Vic tried to scoff, but it came out weak, shaky. “Obviously me. I mean… vampire strength and all.”

Kellin leaned closer, lips brushing his ear as he whispered, “Or maybe the wolf should be the one pinning you down.”

Vic shivered, his blush deepening. “You- You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe I would,” Kellin murmured, pressing a kiss just under his jaw. “Maybe you would too.”

Vic’s chest rose and fell rapidly, caught between defiance and the sharp thrill curling in his stomach. He opened his mouth to retort, but what came out was softer, trembling. “I… I don’t know.”

Kellin pulled back just enough to catch his expression, and his smirk softened. “Vic. Look at you. You’re already red.”

Vic groaned, burying his face in Kellin’s shoulder. “Shut up.”

Kellin chuckled low, wolfish and tender. “Just admit it.”

Vic hesitated, every nerve on fire, before finally whispering against Kellin’s skin. “I want you to.”

The room went still. Kellin froze for half a heartbeat, then exhaled sharply, his chest rumbling with a low growl of satisfaction. He tugged at Vic’s hair, forcing him to meet his gaze. His blue eyes casting down to faint fingerprints he left on the vampire’s neck as he spoke, before meeting Vic’s eyes. “Say it again.”

Vic’s cheeks burned, but his eyes didn’t waver this time. “I want you to be on top.”

Kellin kissed him hard, fierce, sealing the confession between their mouths. The wolf howled in approval, and Vic melted against him, trembling with relief and anticipation all at once. Kellin pulled back slightly, staring down at Vic with a look Vic had never seen before. It was hunger, but softened with awe, with something close to reverence. His thumb brushed along Vic’s cheek, almost disbelieving. “You trust me that much?”

Vic’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. His blush hadn’t faded, but his eyes held steady. “Yeah. I do.”

Something shifted in Kellin then. His wolf pressed forward, proud and protective all at once, but not reckless. He could feel the weight of what Vic had handed him, and instead of running with it, he cradled it. “You don’t know what that does to me,” Kellin whispered, voice breaking.

“I know,” Vic said simply, and that faith almost undid Kellin more than the confession had. His chest burned, but it wasn’t with anger. The wolf inside whined lowly, pleased, curling into the feeling his satisfaction brought like it was warmth by a fire.

Kellin leaned down, kissing him again, slower this time, every touch deliberate. He let his weight settle gently against Vic, testing, waiting for any sign of resistance. But Vic only arched into him, hands trembling as they clutched at Kellin’s back. 

Kellin pressed his forehead to Vic’s, whispering raggedly, “You’re mine tonight.”

Vic let out a shaky laugh, his blush deepening. “Y-Yeah,” he admitted, voice cracking. “Yours.”

Kellin’s words hung heavy in the air, vibrating through Vic’s chest like the low thrum of a bassline that wouldn’t let go. You’re mine tonight. It wasn’t just a promise; it was a command, a claim, something that rooted itself deep in Vic’s gut and sent a shiver racing down his spine. Before Vic could answer, Kellin leaned in, his lips crashing against his with a bruising need. His hand threaded into Vic’s dark hair again, tugging until his head tilted back, exposing the pale line of his throat. Kellin’s canines dragged across the skin there, sharp enough to sting but not quite break. His breath was hot and ragged, words murmured against the sensitive pulse point.

“Your heartbeat’s so soft, Vic… like it’s begging me to keep it safe. Or tear into it.”

Vic swallowed hard, his chest heaving. He should’ve been afraid, maybe. Kellin’s wolf was pressing too close to the surface, his need amplified by the flare still clawing through him. But all Vic felt was his own hunger, the animalistic thrum of want in his own body. His hands slid down Kellin’s sides, gripping his hips tight enough that his nails dug through fabric.

“Kellin…” His voice cracked around the name, part plea, part surrender.

Kellin ground down against him, slow and deliberate, as though testing how far Vic could go before he broke. His eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, sharp and feral, but focused only on Vic. “You know it’s crazy when you look at me like that.” he muttered, though his voice wavered. “Like I’m the only thing you want.”

Vic’s lips curled, almost a smirk, though his own chest felt like it was caving under the weight of everything. “You are,” he breathed, surprising himself with how honest it sounded.

That set Kellin off. He growled before seizing Vic’s wrists and pinning them above his head against the mattress. His body pressed flush to Vic’s, heat radiating, and his lips claimed him again, all teeth and desperation. Vic gasped into it, the sting of Kellin’s cut reopening, the taste of copper sliding between their tongues.

Kellin moaned at the flavor, deep and unashamed, grinding harder against him as if to drive the point home. “Mine,” he said again, but it came out more broken this time, more pleading than threatening.

Vic arched up against him, his fangs grazing Kellin’s lip again, trembling with how badly he wanted more. His voice was hoarse when he whispered, “Then take me. Claim me like you mean it.”

The wolf in Kellin’s eyes sparked hotter, pupils blown wide, and his breath stuttered as though the words had knocked the air right out of him. Kellin froze for a heartbeat after Vic’s words, his chest rising and falling in ragged bursts. The phrase hit something primal, digging under his skin, stirring instincts he usually fought to cage. His wolf surged, loud in his ears, urging him to bite, to mark, to brand.

His grip on Vic’s wrists tightened, almost bruising, before he caught himself and loosened it, but not by much. His voice came out rough, feral, breaking against the weight of his need. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Vic’s gaze didn’t waver. If anything, the guilt that had clouded his expression earlier was gone, replaced by something raw, almost wild. “I think I do,” he murmured, throat exposed beneath Kellin’s hovering mouth. “I trust you.”

That broke him. Kellin dipped low, lips trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of Vic’s neck. Each brush of his canines sent Vic arching, shuddering. He dragged them slowly, deliberately, like he was savoring the thought of where to leave his mark. The pulse throbbed hot beneath his tongue, hypnotic, urging him closer.

And then he sank his teeth in.

It wasn’t a shallow scrape this time, his canines broke skin, piercing just enough for warmth to bead up against his tongue. The taste of Vic’s blood flooded his mouth, metallic and dizzying, and Kellin groaned into it, the sound vibrating against Vic’s throat.

Vic’s reaction was instant. He cried out, loud and broken, his back arching off the mattress as pleasure surged through him in molten waves. It wasn’t pain, or at least, it wasn’t just pain. The bite lit up every nerve, sending sparks racing down his spine, curling low in his belly until he was trembling beneath Kellin.

“Fuck!” Vic’s voice cracked as his hands writhed against Kellin’s grip, not to push him away but to clutch at him, to feel him. His thighs squeezed tight around Kellin’s hips, grinding up desperately, chasing friction.

Kellin shuddered with every swallow, his tongue lapping at the trickle of blood as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. He whimpered, a sound more vulnerable than feral, as though the act itself unspooled him too. His free hand roamed hungrily down Vic’s chest, across his stomach, clutching at his waist. When he finally pulled back, his lips were slick, his chin smeared with crimson. He stared down at Vic, dazed, pupils blown wide as if he barely recognized himself. “Vic…” His voice was shaky, ragged. “That’s going to scar.”

Vic’s chest was heaving, sweat-damp curls sticking to his temples. He blinked up at him with eyes that glowed faintly, his lips parting around a cute little laugh. “Good,” he whispered, voice raw. “Now you really can’t let me go.”

Kellin’s wolf growled at that, possessive but softer now, wrapped in awe. He dipped to kiss him again, and whispered against his lips, “You’re fucking crazy Fuentes.”

“You clearly like crazy.” Vic purred, his beautiful brown eyes never leaving Kellin's. Kellin was gorgeous, his icy eyes pouring into Vic's, the way he bit his lip and reopened the tiny punctures made the vampire's head spin like he was shitfaced despite only having some THC in his system. “You make me feel so good.”

“You know I love it when you talk like that.” Kellin murmured, kissing the bite wound again. He leaned back, quickly discarding his shirt before kissing the vampire again. Vic's hands instinctively began feeling for his belt buckle, fiddling with it like he was asking for permission. Kellin moaned against his lips, his hand gently slid down from Vic's hair to his neck again, giving silent permission. Vic whimpered as he hastily pulled off Kellin's belt and shoved his jeans down half-assedly. 

“Kellin… Can I..?” Vic trailed off, seeing the bulge in Kellin’s boxers. Confusion crossed against Kellin’s face for a moment, and his eyes searched Vic’s face for a moment. Then his face began to burn as he hurriedly stripped himself of his jeans, mumbling an apology as he flipped the two again, Vic moving so flawlessly against him it was like they were in a perfect dance. Vic sank to his knees, face flushing as he realized the gravity of the situation. He was about to suck Kellin’s cock, and he wanted it. They were about to have sex, and Kellin initiated it. He paused for a moment too long, and Kellin tilted his head back up with a finger back under his chin.

“Are you okay?” Kellin murmured so softly it made Vic’s heart ache. A small smile spread on his lips as he spoke a second time, “I know you haven’t really experienced a man as good in bed as me before.”

Vic giggled softly, hand gently slapping Kellin’s knee. “Shut up asshole. I… just am shocked we’re actually doing this.”

“Well it seems like we’re both enjoying our…” Kellin began, though he was promptly interrupted by Vic. One tug is what it takes to get Kellin’s erection free, nearly hitting Vic in the face. 

“It doesn’t matter what I say anyways, you still won’t believe it.” Vic pulls his hair back before placing his hands on Kellin’s knees to spread his legs a little wider. He keeps his eyes on Kellin’s face and finds him completely mesmerized, “I’ll have to show you.”

“Is this about more than just the roommate thing?”

“Save it,” He takes Kellin into his hand, thumb pressed to the underside while he strokes him up and down. The feel of his cock in his hand is getting addicting, “I’m horny and it’s your fault.”

Vic peppers kisses to the head while working his wrists up and down until it becomes red and swollen, leaking thick pearls of cum. Vic licks them up, and he catches the involuntary movement of his hands trying to find something to hold on to. The corners of Vic’s mouth twitch in a grin as he continues to tease with light kisses and gentle nips while watching Kellin’s face twisting in pain, pleasure, and hunger. Kellin’s face burns in both shame and desire, “Stop that…”

“Stop what?”

“The teasing. Please,” Kellin responds breathlessly, “I’m going insane.”

But Vic doesn’t stop. He swirls his tongue around the head and hollows out his cheeks. Then he dives his head in a little deeper before quickly pulling up, releasing it with a purposely loud pop, “You’re a wolf. Act like it and say what you want.”

Kellin gnaws on his lips, features twisting and body straining as he resists. 

“Drop the little act, Kells. We’ve known each other for so long, I know what pisses you off. I know you want to,” Vic pushes his buttons, whispering against his swollen cock as he continues to kiss it. He slides the hand on his shaft lower to his thigh, taking it to massage it lazily, “I know you want to grab my hair and fuck my face until I’m crying and can’t even speak.”

Kellin screws his eyes shut and groans from the bottom of his throat. His hands jerk again before falling at his sides into fists.

“Show me the beast I know you are,” Vic gives him another push. Another kiss, another lick, another bite, “Let it out.”

When Kellin opens his eyes, there’s a fierce, hungry glint that flares up and causes Vic’s heart to skip a beat. Kellin’s hand moves again, shaking but decisive as he reaches for Vic’s hair. When he tugs, it feels delightfully painful, pulling a whimper from Vic’s lips. 

“That’s more like it…” He sighs.

Kellin’s blush spreads to his ears and neck as he holds Vic’s gaze, “Open your mouth.”

It doesn’t even go through his head when he spreads his lips. A shiver runs through his body after he does, sated with himself. 

“Wider.” Kellin’s voice is deep and commanding, and it tickles Vic in the right places. He obeys and shivers in satisfaction. Kellin tightens his hold and pushes his head deeper between his legs, guiding him to his cock.

The slide of it entering his mouth is suffocating in itself but Vic controls his breathing as he adjusts to accommodate him. He doesn’t go far without feeling like gagging, so he stops to steady his breath before continuing. It skims and scratches the walls of his mouth, but he suppresses the urge to cough. Kellin loosens the grip on his hair, allowing him to maneuver his head the way he needs to, swallowing inch after inch until he can’t anymore. Like there’s an invisible wall. Tears prickle his burning eyes.

“Vic…,” Kellin finds his voice, hoarse and unsteady, “Pull back.”

Kellin is burning holes into him as he stares openly at Vic, mouth agape. Only after reaching the hilt does Vic draw back, deliberately slow until he slides off with filthy squelch. Vic pants, coughs, and gathers his breath before shooting a smirk at Kellin’s dumbstruck face.

“You almost killed me there, puppy,” He grabs Kellin’s knees again. Kellin is speechless, “Lucky for you… I’m a pretty good at oral.”

Kellin makes a face then he sighs fondly, “You surprise me more each day…”

“Is that so?” The words fan Vic’s ego and the smirk reaches his ears as he lowers his head again, “Then I’m about to blow your fucking mind.”

Vic wraps his fingers around the base of Kellin’s cock and guides it into his mouth again. The slide in is easier now so Vic bobs his head back and forth with practiced ease. It drives Kellin absolutely insane; his face twists in pleasure and frustration as he bites his lips. Without hesitation, he grabs Vic by the hair again, and moves his head the way he wants. He’s relentless, barely giving Vic a chance to catch his breath before he’s shoving his dick down his throat again, all the way to the back. The sharp pain on his scalp and the low air in his lungs rush to his head and make him feel light. Adrenaline pushes him to hold on, Kellin’s grip on his hair tightens, his hips still, and with a long moan, he unloads inside his mouth.

Vic swallows greedily, as much as he could before Kellin slips out, leaving a mess of drool and cum on his lips. Vic cleans up quickly and grabs Kellin by the neck and forces him onto the mattress below him. With one hand glued to Kellin’s skin, Vic slips his free hand into his own pants and further down. He prods and pushes a finger in, reaping a pathetic whine from his lips. Kellin is too busy biting his neck to notice.

“Are you going to keep staring or will you help me?” Vic puffs, growing more impatient by the second.

A roguish smirk flits across Vic’s face as Kellin looks away self-consciously, but then it’s replaced by a glint in his eyes. Words crumble on Vic’s tongue when Kellin shoves a finger into him, raw and rough.

“So this is all it takes to shut your mouth, I see,” Kellin has that deep voice that makes Vic’s skin tingle, “You always liked it when I got rough with you.”

Vic’s cock jerks in response to that.

“Get the lube, in the nightstand.” Vic whines, “I can take it.”

Kellin eagerly complies, making a comment that Vic is a needy bitch sometimes. Words crumble on Vic’s tongue when Kellin shoves a finger into him, covered in half warmed up lube and rough. Vic cries out and curses, but then it melts into a moan. Kellin scoots forwards a smidge until he overshadows Vic, watching his expressions as he reels his finger in and out. Then he adds a second one. Stars dance in front of Vic’s eyes because Kellin’s fingers are perfect. He reaches places Vic couldn’t with two fingers.  Another moan leaves Vic when Kellin curls and scissors his fingers, Vic’s hips lift from the bed as he blurts the most whorish sounds he has ever heard. He’s too wound up by the third finger and Kellin sees this. He pulls out, leaving Vic empty and hollow.  Quietly, Kellin tugs the rest of Vic’s jeans all the way down until they’re a heap somewhere on the floor. For a moment, he just stares. He’s probably thinking about what to do next, or wondering how we got to this point, if this is really happening.

But Vic is tired of waiting. Tired of resisting, and ignoring, and denying. He wants Kellin’s cock inside of him, and he wants it now . “Kellin…”

“I know…” Kellin murmured, “I’m enjoying the view.”

Kellin smiles smugly before spitting on his hand and spreading it over his cock. It’s disgusting, really, and yet incredibly sexy. He grabs the lube from somewhere beside Vic and adds a little extra lube to his cock. Then, without warning or a heads up, Kellin pushes in. Kellin is patient as he moves his hips. Vic braces himself against the bed, hands twisting against the sheets as he hisses through his teeth. He feels every push, every pulse and twitch as Kellin stretches him. When he touches base, Vic releases the breath he was holding in a pathetic whine. He feels like he’s in heaven. His whole body feels light and warm.  “Fuck…” 

Kellin doesn’t waste a second. He holds Vic’s hips firmly in place as he begins to fuck into him. Stars of all sizes and colors explode before his eyes when Kellin immediately bumps into his prostate. Then he pulls back and rams back inside, hitting it again. And then again and again. Vic’s body jerks and arcs from the bed, he won’t last long like this. It’s so embarrassing he wants to die. He searches blindly and desperately for the pillows behind him to hide his face and smother the vulgar sounds he’s making, but Kellin catches his hands and pins them to the bed as he leans down to kiss his lips. Vic tries to keep up, with his strong thrusts and lips, but it’s too much. When Kellin moves to bite and lick his sensitive neck, he knows he’s done for. There’s a ringing in his ears and the dancing stars multiply until he can’t see. His limbs go stiff, and his eyes roll back. “Wait, Kellin- I’m gonna-”

White splatters over his stomach as pure pleasure assaults his body. He cries out ‘Kells!’ as he clenches around Kellin’s cock. His body jerks and his cock sputters a few times before it goes flaccid. The bliss fades, and when he opens his eyes, Kellin is looking down at him with wide, dilated eyes.

Overwhelmed with shame, Vic looks away and kicks him, “What are you waiting for, stupid? Keep going.”

“You came early.” Kellin says flatly.

“Shut it!” Vic kicks him again, “It’s not my fault your dick is huge.”

“You took it so well.” 

“Of course I did.” Vic blushes.

“You enjoyed it.”

It was the best fuck in my life. Vic says. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Kellin smiles and chuckles softly, making the butterflies in Vic’s chest flutter. “Do you want to get off or not?”

“I will,” Kellin tightens his hold on his hips as he leans in to speak into his ear, “I wonder if I can make you come a second time.”

Vic has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but the feel of Kellin’s fingers digging into the meat of his thighs is distracting. He clings to the sheets beneath him as Kellin holds him a little tighter before fucking into him again. The motion is smoother now, and the sensation takes him to heaven again. Kellin wastes no time in moving his hips. His thrusts are gentle and controlled, slowly building the heat in Vic’s body until he’s hard again. Only then does Kellin pick up the pace. Kellin isn’t trying to get himself off. He’s trying to get Vic to cum first. At this point, Vic doesn’t really care. He’s overstimulated, too drowned in pleasure to fight back. He’ll cum as many times as Kellin wants him to, as long as he can have this moment, surrounded by Kellin’s body and warmth. Orgasm hits him hard this time, his vision blurs. The white stains on his abdomen become larger. Kellin must have lost sight of his goal; he fucks him faster now, like an animal in rut. The room is filled with the sound of him panting and grunting, the clapping of their skins, the bed creaking, and whatever sounds Vic makes until Kellin’s cock pulses and then finishes inside Vic. Vic clenches around him while Kellin continues to thrust into him, mindlessly riding the orgasm, milking every second of it before he slumps over Vic’s body.

It’s quiet for a few minutes, save for the thumping of Vic’s heart against his ribcage. Vic feels pleasantly numb, and yet his skin is highly attuned to Kellin’s fingers as they reach for him. The room smelled of sweat, smoke, and copper faint in the air where their teeth had broken skin earlier. Their bodies were still tangled in the sheets, limbs heavy and loose, both of them breathing like they’d run a marathon but refusing to untangle just yet. Kellin lay half sprawled over Vic, cheek pressed to his chest, listening to the vampire’s heartbeat slow. He liked that sound more than he’d admit out loud. A sound he’d convinced himself he didn’t need, that he didn’t want. But right now, it anchored him. His wolf felt quiet, sated, curled into the warmth like it finally had a place to rest. Vic’s fingers traced idle lines up and down Kellin’s back. He tried to focus on the rhythm of it, on how grounding it felt to simply touch the wolf. But his mind wouldn’t stop spinning. He could still taste Kellin’s blood on his tongue, feel his teeth in his throat, the echo of that mark throbbing with a strange mixture of pain and heat. He’d let Kellin have him completely and he didn’t regret it. Not even close. 

His chest ached with the questions he didn’t want to ask. Kellin had claimed him, literally marked him, and Vic had asked for it. He had wanted it. But now, in the heavy silence of the aftermath, doubt curled sharp in his stomach. Was this just instinct? Was he just a stand-in for Kellin’s wolf to pour all that pent-up energy into? 

Kellin stirred, pressing a lazy kiss to Vic’s collarbone before lifting his head. His eyes, hooded and softened by exhaustion, flicked up to meet Vic’s. He looked wrecked but strangely peaceful, a tiny grin tugging at his swollen lips.

“You look like you’re overthinking,” Kellin murmured, voice low and scratchy from use.

Vic tried to force a small smile, brushing damp hair from his face. “Maybe I am.”

Kellin studied him for a moment, then exhaled slowly, rolling onto his side but keeping an arm draped across Vic’s middle. “Do you… wanna shower? Crash for a while?” 

Vic hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek. Part of him wanted to stay tangled here, to keep pretending the moment didn’t have to end, that reality wouldn’t creep back in as soon as they pulled themselves from the sheets. But he could see it in Kellin’s tired eyes, the wolf was trying, in his own way, to care for him. To offer closeness without demanding answers right away.

“Yeah,” Vic finally said softly, his voice almost fragile. “A shower sounds… good. And then sleep.”

Kellin’s smile widened just a little, relief flickering across his face. He pressed one more kiss to Vic’s temple, then sat up, stretching with a wince before offering Vic his hand.

“C’mon then, vampire,” he teased gently, trying to lighten the air. “Let’s wash all this off before we pass out and glue ourselves together permanently.”

Vic let out a quiet laugh despite the weight in his chest and took Kellin’s hand, letting himself be pulled upright. The floor was cool under his feet, the air biting at his sweat-slick skin, and he glanced at Kellin from the corner of his eye as they headed toward the bathroom. The doubts still lingered, gnawing at him. But for now, he could tuck them away. He could let Kellin lead him into the quiet comfort of a shower, the bathroom filled quickly with the hiss of water as Kellin twisted the faucet on, steam curling through the air. He tossed a glance over his shoulder at Vic, who leaned against the doorframe, arms loosely crossed like he wasn’t sure how much of himself he wanted to reveal under the bright bathroom light.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” Kellin said, smirking as he stepped under the spray first, head tipping back so his dark hair plastered to his skin. Water cascaded down his body, tracing the map of bruises and nail marks that Vic had left. He looked unguarded, in a way Vic wasn’t used to seeing.

Vic exhaled through his nose, peeled himself from the doorway, and stepped in after him. The hot water hit his chilled skin like a shock, and he let out a quiet sound before closing his eyes, letting the warmth bleed into his bones. He half-expected Kellin to keep his distance now that the heat of the moment had passed, but the wolf moved closer immediately, pressing his chest against Vic’s back, arms circling his waist, his chin hooking over his shoulder.

“Mm,” Kellin hummed, nosing damp hair out of the way so he could press his lips to the side of Vic’s neck, directly above the bite mark he’d left. “Still mine.”

Vic’s throat bobbed, but before he could respond, Kellin’s hands began to roam, slow, unhurried, almost reverent. He lathered soap between his palms, then spread it across Vic’s chest, smoothing it down his arms, slipping between his fingers. His thumbs pressed into muscles like he was trying to knead out every knot, every bit of lingering tension. It was shockingly tender. Almost domestic. Nothing like the desperate, messy hunger they’d just drowned in. Vic’s breath hitched as Kellin’s hands slid lower, across his stomach, pausing at his hips with a firm squeeze. He tilted his head, watching Kellin from the corner of his eye. “You’re being… touchy,” he murmured, trying for lightness, but his voice cracked slightly.

Kellin chuckled, low and warm, lips brushing the edge of his ear. “Maybe I like taking care of you,” he whispered, and the simple honesty in it made Vic’s chest tighten painfully.

Kellin turned him gently, guiding him under the spray so the water washed the soap away. Then, with the same deliberate care, he reached up to run his fingers through Vic’s hair, massaging shampoo into his scalp. Vic’s eyes fluttered shut, a soft noise escaping before he could stop it.

The wolf grinned against his temple at the sound. “Didn’t think I’d get you purring,” he teased, but his hands never faltered. Vic swallowed hard, caught between the intimacy of the moment and the anxiety twisting in his chest. He hadn’t expected this. Kellin being clingy, affectionate, protective. It rattled him. He wanted to lean into it, to believe it meant something more. Still, when Kellin leaned in and kissed him under the spray, slow and sweet, Vic let himself melt into it, letting the wolf’s touch strip away the tension for just a little longer. Steam fogged up the glass, blurring their reflections into something hazy and dreamlike. Vic tilted his head back into the spray, eyes closed, letting Kellin’s fingers work through his hair with surprising gentleness. The wolf’s thumbs dragged lazy circles against his scalp, easing out tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying, then slipped lower, running down the curve of his neck and across his shoulders. The firm press of his palms worked soap into his skin, the slick slide of lather both soothing and unbearably intimate.

“You’re… good at this,” Vic admitted, voice roughened by the misty heat. He kept his eyes shut, too vulnerable to look directly at Kellin while confessing it.

Kellin laughed softly, low and throaty, the sound vibrating against Vic’s damp skin as he leaned forward to kiss his shoulder. “Don’t sound so surprised. I can take care of people.” His hands slid across Vic’s chest, fingertips pausing to trace along the ridges of bone, then down over his stomach. The wolf’s touch wasn’t rushed; it was deliberate, like he wanted to memorize every plane of him with his palms.

Vic’s breath caught when Kellin’s fingers skimmed his hips, thumbs dragging across sharp bones before dipping lower, just enough to make his pulse spike. He glanced sideways, catching the way Kellin’s eyes gleamed, not wild like earlier, but softer, still tinted with that animalistic hunger that made Vic shiver.

“You keep looking at me like that,” Vic murmured, voice shaky but threaded with curiosity, “and I’m not gonna last the night.”

Kellin smirked, leaning in to mouth at the curve of his throat, teeth grazing lightly over the spot where his pulse thudded. “That’s the point,” he said against his skin, his tone somewhere between teasing and reverent.

The water poured over both of them, heat wrapping tight. Vic finally opened his eyes, only to find Kellin already watching him. Up close, he looked undone in a way that Vic hadn’t noticed in the chaos earlier, lashes wet and clumped, strands of hair plastered to his forehead, lips bruised from kissing. His eyes were soft, though, holding something beneath the edge of playfulness. Vic felt his chest seize with something sharp and dangerous. It was too much, too close to feelings he wasn’t ready to name. Kellin broke the moment before it could spiral, ducking his head and working soap down Vic’s arms, lacing their fingers briefly as he cleaned between them. The wolf pressed another quick kiss against his temple, then pulled back to take the bar for himself.

“Switch,” he murmured, turning his back so Vic could return the favor.

Vic hesitated, then reached out, letting his hands roam over Kellin’s slick skin, mapping out the strong lines of muscle beneath. Kellin’s back flexed under his touch, a quiet hum vibrating in his throat as Vic dragged soap down his spine, over the curve of his waist, along his ribs. His hands slowed, thumbs catching in old scars etched faintly across Kellin’s sides. Kellin stilled, breath catching almost imperceptibly, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he let Vic’s hands wander, allowing himself to be cared for in return. It felt strangely sacred, this unspoken exchange of trust. By the time they rinsed off, steam clung thick in the air and their limbs felt loose, heavy with relaxation. Kellin leaned against the tile for a moment, rubbing a hand over his face before letting out a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Shit,” he muttered, chuckling softly, voice thick with fatigue. “I could fall asleep standing here.” He tipped his head toward Vic, water dripping from his chin. “We should get to bed. Finish drying off before I actually do pass out in the shower.”

They dried off in silence, the soft rasp of towels over damp skin the only sound between them. Vic tugged on a pair of loose sweats, his shirt forgotten somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes from earlier. Kellin didn’t bother with much at all, just slipped into clean boxers and collapsed onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, like the bed itself was gravity and he’d given up fighting it.

Vic followed, slower, unsure if lying down together again would feel different now. 

It did. 

The sheets were cool against his still-warm skin, and when he slid under them, Kellin immediately shifted closer, like it was instinct. No hesitation this time in his movements, the wolf draped an arm over Vic’s waist and rested his head against Vic’s chest, his damp hair tickling bare skin. His breathing evened out almost instantly, warm exhales brushing against Vic’s ribs.

It was shockingly tender. Domestic, even.

Vic lay stiff for a moment, staring at the ceiling, his heart hammering harder than it had even during the shower. He could feel Kellin’s weight pressed to him, solid and unyielding, and every slow beat of his own pulse seemed amplified beneath the wolf’s cheek. The same wolf who had marked him hard enough to draw blood not an hour ago, who had kissed him like he wanted to consume him whole, and now he was asleep, clinging like it was the most natural thing in the world. Vic’s hand hovered uncertainly before finally settling against the back of Kellin’s head, fingers brushing through the still-damp strands. The motion felt grounding, but his mind was anything but steady.

What does this mean?

They’d crossed lines. More than once. Vic wasn’t naïve, he knew what it meant to give in like that, to let someone hold him in ways that stripped away all his walls. He wasn’t the type to crave closeness like this. And yet here he was, chest aching under the weight of it. His gaze flicked down to Kellin’s sleeping face, softened in rest, lips parted just enough to let out slow, even breaths. He looked younger like this, vulnerable in a way Vic had never seen him. It scared him, the thought that maybe he’d been let into a place no one else had touched. Vic bit his lip, careful not to move, not to disturb the quiet. His thoughts twisted anyway. Was this just the heat of the moment for Kellin? A wolf’s instinct, a body needing release? Or did it mean something more? Could it?

The uncertainty pooled heavily in his chest, making every inhale feel too shallow. He wanted to ask. He wanted to know. But Kellin’s soft weight against him, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, made the question stick in his throat. He couldn’t shatter the peace of this fragile moment. Vic is not ready for this to be over yet. He doesn’t want to go back to their push and pull, or whatever the future has in store for them. He doesn’t want to think about it, or what they’d do after this, not now. They’d have to talk about what this means for them, if anything at all, but he’s not ready yet.  He’s acting like a kid, but he doesn’t care. 

So he lay there instead, wide awake, his hand idly stroking through Kellin’s hair as if that alone could keep him tethered. He listened to the wolf’s breathing, the faint creak of the old apartment settling, the racing of his own anxious thoughts, and forced himself to stay still.

Kellin shifted once in his sleep, murmured something incoherent, then burrowed closer, nuzzling into Vic’s chest like he was searching for something only he could provide. Vic’s heart clenched so hard it hurt.

I’m in trouble, he thought, staring into the dark.

Chapter Text

Vic’s screen glowed faintly in the dark, the cold blue light making his tired eyes sting. He’d been scrolling for nearly an hour, thumb flicking mindlessly through post after post of selfies, memes, arguments in the comments section. He wasn’t even really reading anymore. Just scroll, scroll, scroll, letting the noise of his thumb tapping numb him while his brain spun circles he couldn’t escape. Kellin’s face kept flashing behind the blur of the feed. The wolf asleep on his chest, the weight of his arm around Vic’s waist, the way his lips had pressed into Vic’s skin like he belonged there. It was too much. It was nothing and everything at the same time. It was dangerous. Every time Vic’s chest warmed at the memory, his stomach dropped twice as fast.

What if Kellin woke up and regretted it? What if it was just instinct, an animalistic need, a fluke that meant nothing? Vic’s heart kept replaying Kellin’s soft breathing against his ribs, but his head insisted it was just biology. Wolves didn’t fall in love with vampires. That wasn’t how the world worked for Kellin Quinn.

He scrolled past another photo dump from someone’s night out, past a thread about movies he’d never watch, past a post about band drama he should’ve cared about but didn’t. The glow of the phone screen was the only anchor in the dark room, and even that was starting to feel suffocating.

Finally, Vic thumbed out of the app and pulled open his messages. His contact list felt heavier than it should. He hovered over Gerard’s name too long, thumb itching to type something reckless, before he pulled away with a sharp inhale. No. Not Gerard. Not after what happened with Kellin.

Finally, without thinking, he flicked over to his messages with Jaime and fired off a text.

you awake?

The reply came fast.

Obviously. it’s like 2am. prime Jaime hours. what’s up?

Vic hesitated, typing and deleting three different ways of phrasing it. Finally, after a bit being blunt won.

me and kellin fucked.
and now I’m freaking the fuck out

There was a beat. Then another message from Jaime popped up.

… !?!?!?!?
Lmao tony owes me 50 bucks

Vic groaned, dragging his hand over his face.

shut the fuck up
i’m Serious

Oh i’m serious too

told him you’d cave first. dude’s hot, a wolf, lives with you? was only a matter of time
but okay okay, I’ll stop being a sexy genius for a sec
why are you freaking out?

Vic’s chest tightened. He could feel the words bottling up, the ghost of anxiety boiling. He typed.

bc i think im in love
it felt different. like I’m already too far in the fover my head and im gonna hurt him
and now he’s asleep in my bed with his head on my chest like it’s the most nrmal thing in the world, even tho we fucked
and I can’t breathe.

…
okay. that doesn’t sound like a kellin problem. that sounds like a u problem

Vic’s brows pinched together, irritation spiking.

what the fuck is that supposed to mean
We both know you’re just scared of committing

Vic sat up straighter, his jaw tightening. Kellin mumbled something in his sleep about the light from the phone, and rolled over out of Vic’s grasp.

I’m not. don’t start this psychoanalyzing shit w me
ohhh here we go im ready
V, you’ve been dancing around this for YEARS. you get close, then pull away before it’s real.
classic Vic move. Classic kellin too, u both got issues

fuck you
I love you too, man
but I’m not wrong, am I?

Vic stared at the screen. His hand hovered over the keyboard, heat rising in his chest. He typed anyway.

you don’t get it.
no, I do. more than you want me to.
this isn’t about u hurting Kellin anymore. it’s about you panicking the second someone actually gets close enough to matter

Vic’s throat went tight, nails digging into his sheets.

he’s different okay?
I can’t fuck up. not with him.
But I ruin shit. that’s what I do.

The three dots blinked, paused, blinked again. Then:

bro. stop acting like you’re poison.
you’re just scared. and scared people self-sabotage.

stop.
No. you texted me first bitch, so you get honesty.
admit it, Vic. you’re terrified of committing. you’ve been since before kellin, since before gerard.

Vic’s chest flared hot. He gritted his teeth.

don’t bring him up
Then don’t run the same script.
What are you actually afraid of here? that Kellin’s too delicate? that he’ll hurt you and run again? or that you’ll have to stay?

Vic’s fingers flew, sharper than he meant.

you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about Hime.
I do, though. I’ve watched you do this.

it’s not that.
then what?
fuck you
lol

Vic stared at that last message for a long time, Jaime’s words digging under his ribs like claws. His chest was tight, heart beating too fast, palms sweating. He typed slowly, reluctant, every word dragging.

if I let him in all the way… I don’t think he’ll survive if I leave. But I also don’t know if i can handle him bein sick like this
Progess, finally man holy fuck
and if you don’t let him in, you’ll lose him anyway.
so which pain do you want? the fear of losing him, or the regret of never giving him the chance?

Silence stretched again. He hadn’t responded yet, but the typing dots popped up on Jaime’s end anyway.

I’m gonna say something u’re not gonna like.

Vic exhaled sharply through his nose.

when do you ever say ANYTHING i like?

Kellin is sick, Vic. chronically. you know what LWS does to wolves. it eats at them. He's been holding it together kinda shittily. u’ve seen it.

Vic’s throat constricted. He chewed at the inside of his cheek until it hurt, because he had seen it, the tremors in Kellin’s hands when he thought no one was watching, the way his eyes went glassy when the pain got too sharp, the nights he’d disappear into the woods and come back looking like he’d fought his own body.

He didn’t respond so Jaime continued.

I know u care. I know u’re freaking out because you care.
but I need u to understand the gravity of what you’re doing here.
Kellin isn’t just some hookup. u don’t get to treat him like a phase, tony literally already told u this.
if you’re in, you’re all the way in. bc he cannot take being abandoned again.

The words hit like a punch. Vic’s vision blurred for a second. He tightened his grip on the phone until the edges dug into his palm.

you think I don’t know that?
then stop acting like you don’t.
stop making this about how you’re afraid of commitment and start thinking about what it means for him.
it’s not that simple.
it is. it really fucking is, man. either you’re ready to shoulder this with him, or you let him go before you make it worse.

Vic’s pulse hammered in his throat. His chest felt tight, like he’d been caught in a snare.

I don’t want to hurt him.

then you need to start being honest with yourself. 

Vic swore under his breath and set the phone down, running both hands over his face. His whole body buzzed with restless energy, shame and longing and anger all twisting together. He wanted to scream. He wanted to crawl back under the sheets and bury himself against Kellin until the world shut up. When he picked the phone up again, his throat felt raw.

He deserves better than me.
Oh 100% dude, ur a pos sometimes
but he wants you.
and if you’re too scared to give him what he’s asking for, you don’t deserve him at all.

The words burned. Vic stared at them until his eyes stung. He wanted to deny it, fight back, throw the weight off his shoulders, but Kellin curled up and asleep next to him gutted him too deep. Vic stared at the screen until the words doubled, blurred, and twisted. He could feel that sting in his chest again, the one that made him want to snarl and sob all at once.

His thumbs flew before he could stop them:

I fucking hate how good you and Tony are at this.
at being my emotional support gays.
it’s so fucking annoying.

The typing dots didn’t appear right away. Then:

lol shut up.
you don’t hate it.
you just hate that we’re right.

I don’t know how to stay.
that’s the part no one ever gets.
I can do the beginning. I do freaky easy sex all the time
but when it slows down, when it gets real, it’s like my skin doesn’t fit anymore. And suddenly I’m suffocating in my own house.
I always find a way to run.

I do get it.
leaving first feels safer than waiting for them to leave you.

Vic’s eyes burned, and he pressed the heel of his hand to them until colors sparked behind his eyelids. The tears escaped anyway.

but here’s the difference, Vic. Kellin isn’t just letting you in.
he’s fighting his own body every day, and he still chose to fight his way toward you.
he’s willing to work w u.
he’s not asking for perfect man .

and if I can’t be?

then at least admit that before you tear him in half.
but I don’t believe that. not with the way you talk about him.
not with the way you sound right now.

Vic stared at the words, he hated how much truth lived in them. He hated how easily Jaime stripped him bare. He hated that he was crying, quietly, angrily, stupidly, alone in the dark while Kellin slept peacefully in the same bed as him. He wiped his eyes, standing up and finally getting out of bed. He couldn’t be in the same bed anymore while having this conversation, though more than anything he hated how badly he wanted to stay with Kellin.

Vic peeled himself out of the bed, careful not to wake Kellin. The weight in his chest was unbearable, an ache that gnawed at him like claws. He moved silently, slipping into the living room, where the dim glow of his lamp cast long shadows across the floor. His hands trembled as he unlocked his phone, swiping through contacts until Jaime’s name popped up again.

“Vic?” Jaime’s voice was groggy, laced with morning warmth. The camera flickered to reveal him wrapped in blankets, Tony draped over him.

“Vic… what- why are you crying?” Tony’s voice, usually soft but teasing, now carried the edge of worry that made Vic’s throat tighten even more.

“I-I just… I can’t-” Vic stumbled over his words, blinking rapidly as tears streaked his face. “I can’t do this to myself, and I… I don’t know if I’m-”

“Hey,” Jaime said softly, propping himself on one elbow. “Vic, breathe. Tony, can you give me a sec?” He reached over and gently nudged Tony, who reluctantly leaned back, watching Vic with concerned eyes.

Vic sank onto the couch, hugging his knees to his chest. “I just… Kellin… he’s… he’s everything, and I keep thinking I’m going to ruin him. I keep thinking I need to push him away before he sees how broken I really am.”

Jaime’s jaw tightened, and he leaned closer into the camera. “Vic… you’re not ruining him. Not if you don’t let your fear dictate your actions. Kellin isn’t fragile. He’s fought more than most people could handle, and he’s still choosing you.”

Tony reached forward hesitantly, resting his head on Jaime’s shoulder. “Vic… listen, okay? You’re not alone in this. You’re crying because he matters to you. You need to stop punishing yourself for normal human emotions.”

Vic’s voice shook. “I just- every time I let myself feel something… I’m terrified I’m gonna fuck it up. I can’t stand the idea of him getting hurt because of me.”

Jaime’s eyes softened, glinting with unspoken reassurance. “Then don’t let fear run the show. That’s all he’s asking, Vic.”

Tony nodded, voice gentle. “And you’ve got us. You think you’re alone in this? We’ve got your back, always. Don’t forget that.”

Vic swallowed hard, wiping at his tears. “I just… I’ve never had anyone like him… and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Then don’t,” Jaime said firmly, though his tone was warm. “Stop overthinking. Kellin’s not going anywhere if you’re honest with him. You’re allowed to be scared, Vic. But don’t let that fear control you.”

Vic exhaled shakily, letting the warmth from the video call sink into him. “Okay… okay. I… I’ll try.”

Tony leaned closer again, giving the camera a small, supportive grin. “Good. Now go back to him before I start beating you through the screen.”

Vic managed a shaky laugh, feeling some of the tension in his chest ease, though the anxiety lingered like a low hum. “Yeah… yeah. Thanks, you two. Really.”

“Always,” Jaime said softly, tugging the blankets around himself and Tony. “Now go hold him. Don’t let your brain sabotage this before it even starts.”

Vic nodded, already feeling the magnetic pull of Kellin’s presence in the next room. “I… I will.”

He ended the call, letting the phone rest on the couch beside him. Taking a deep breath, Vic headed back into the bedroom, each step measured, every nerve alight with the anticipation of being near Kellin again. He paused at the doorway, watching the rhythm of Kellin’s chest rise and fall, his wolf finally resting, unaware of the internal panic that Vic carried for him. Vic crawled back under the covers, wrapping his arms around Kellin’s form, careful not to wake him. He nuzzled his face into Kellin’s hair, letting the warmth anchor him. And for the first time in hours, Vic allowed himself to just relax completely, drifting off.

The next morning Vic woke slowly, the world swimming into focus in shades of gray and warm morning light bleeding through the blinds. The sheets smelled like Kellin. For the first time in what felt like forever, Vic’s body wasn’t tense. He shifted, hand brushing the cold space beside him.

The bed was empty.

His chest tightened immediately, panic spiking before the faint sound of movement in the kitchen reached his ears, the sizzle of a pan and the quiet scrape of utensils comforted his anxiety. He breathed out slowly, forcing his heart to calm as he slid from bed and padded down the hall. Kellin stood at the stove, bare feet planted on the tile, hair still messy from the night before. He wore one of Vic’s shirts, it was too big for him, and hanging loose at the neck, while he flipped eggs with casual ease. The sight made Vic’s throat close up in ways he didn’t know how to name.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Kellin said without turning, his voice soft but warm. “I was trying not to wake you.”

Vic leaned against the doorframe, watching him. “You… made breakfast?”

Kellin glanced over his shoulder, lips tugging in a sheepish smile. “Don’t act so surprised. I’m domesticated when I want to be.” He plated the eggs, sliding some toast alongside. “Figured I’d fuel you up before I head to class.”

Vic stepped into the kitchen, hesitating just long enough for Kellin to notice. He set the spatula down, turning fully to face him. For a moment, the room felt too still, too heavy with all the unspoken things between them.

Kellin’s eyes flicked down toward Vic’s collar, and the smile faded into something more serious and apologetic. “About last night…” His hand hovered, then dropped back to his side. “I shouldn’t have marked you like that. I got carried away. I wasn’t thinking, and-”

“Kellin.” Vic’s voice came out hoarse, surprising even himself. He touched his neck self-consciously, where the dull ache of broken skin lingered. “It’s… fine. I mean, I’m not mad.”

Kellin frowned, uncertainty flashing in his eyes. “I don’t want you to think I don’t respect you. It just… happened, and I… fuck, Vic, it’s serious thing. Did I scare you?”

The words twisted something deep inside Vic, the guilt and tenderness tangled together. “You didn’t scare me.” A beat passed, and he added quietly, “I was into it. That’s what scares me.”

Kellin’s brows knit, like he wanted to press further, but he didn’t. Instead, he took the plates to the island and gestured for Vic to sit. “Then let me make it up to you. Eat.”

Vic huffed a small laugh, the tension easing just enough to let him sit next to Kellin. The food smelled good, and Vic could tell Kellin must’ve mixed blood and hot sauce in his, like Vic always does, because his eggs had a red tint to them. He picked up his fork, watching Kellin dig in without hesitation. For a moment, it felt almost normal like any couple’s quiet morning routine. And yet, the memory of the night before lingered in Vic’s chest.

Kellin swallowed, then glanced up, more vulnerable than Vic had ever seen him. “We’re okay, right?”

Vic’s throat tightened again. He wanted to say yes, wanted to give Kellin the certainty he deserved but all that came out was. “We will be.”

Kellin’s eyes lingered on Vic a moment too long, like he was searching for something under the words. The flicker of hurt there was quick, but Vic caught it anyway, a tiny flinch in the corners of his mouth before Kellin straightened his shoulders and forced a new rhythm into the morning.

“Alright,” he said lightly, pushing his plate a little to the side. “No more heavy shit before breakfast. Let me bore you with my thrilling life as a student teacher.” He leaned back in his chair, a piece of toast between his fingers. “Today I’m walking my class through their first poetry unit. I bet half of them are gonna groan like I’m torturing them, and the other half will want to spill their guts about crushes.”

The shift in topic was so seamless that Vic felt a wave of relief wash through him. He latched onto it like a lifeline, desperate to change the conversation. “Poetry unit, huh? What are you making them read?”

Kellin’s grin returned, small but genuine. “I picked out some Neruda and a little bit of Plath to freak them out. But mostly I want them to try writing themselves. Doesn’t matter if it’s good, I just want them to get something on the page.”

Vic tilted his head. “So you’re basically pushing them into confession at fifteen.”

Kellin laughed, gesturing with his fork. “It’s character building. They’ll thank me when they’re thirty and can trace their emotional issues back to me.”

Vic couldn’t help smiling, the heaviness in his chest loosening. “What does a lesson plan for that even look like? Like… do you just write, ‘Make teenagers cry’ at the top?”

Kellin snorted, nearly choking on his toast. “Pretty much. Though the official version is way more boring. Today I’m doing a free-write warmup, then small group discussions. Tomorrow we’ll look at song lyrics as poetry. I was gonna bring in Bright Eyes or Death Cab, something old but still hits hard.”

Vic’s brow arched. “You’re gonna traumatize them and give them good taste. That’s ambitious.”

Kellin shrugged, playful but also earnest. “They deserve it. Nobody ever gave me that kind of space when I was their age. I had to figure it all out on my own.”

Something about the quiet conviction in his tone made Vic’s chest ache. He picked at his eggs, grateful, more than grateful that Kellin had steered them away from the scar on his neck and the weight pressing in from last night. He could just listen and not have to think of what that means for them. 

“What's your lesson gonna look like?” Vic asked, desperate to just keep the conversation off the sex they had.

Kellin seemed to brighten the second Vic asked the follow-up question, like someone had just flicked on a switch inside him. He shifted in his chair, leaning forward a little with his fork still in his hand, his whole body buzzing with the kind of energy that didn’t really belong to mornings.

“So, okay,” he began, “today’s just easing them in with free-write prompts, but I’ve been sketching out this whole arc for the next few weeks. I want them to see poetry as more than just dusty old books, like, it’s alive, it’s personal. Some of them are total wallflowers, but I know if I give them the right tools, they’ll surprise themselves.”

Vic hummed, taking a slow sip of his coffee Kellin had sat in front of him while speaking earlier. He’d been expecting Kellin to trail off, maybe brush past it with a shrug, but instead Kellin kept going, words tumbling over each other like he’d been waiting for an excuse to talk about this.

“I’m breaking them into groups next week. I want each group to tackle different themes, like love, identity, family, grief. Heavy stuff, but I’ll give them models to work with. I found this amazing slam poem about being the first in your family to go to college- I swear, half the kids in my class are gonna relate to it instantly. And I’m sneaking in music theory, too, like showing them how lyrics overlap with verse.” Kellin’s hands were moving now, punctuating his words with little gestures, his eyes bright. Vic felt his chest squeeze tight at the sight because Kellin was passionate, but also because he looked happy. Unburdened, for once.

Vic thought about Kellin’s father, the man who had once called teaching “a bitch’s degree”, like his own son’s passion was a sign of weakness. The memory of the way Kellin cried talking about it slid sharp across Vic’s thoughts, ugly and sour. He forced himself not to show it on his face. Instead, he leaned his cheek into his hand, watching the way Kellin’s whole expression lit up as he kept talking. “Sounds like you’ve thought about this way too much for just a couple of lesson plans.”

Kellin grinned sheepishly but didn’t stop. “Maybe. But I don’t know, Vic. These kids are at that weird in-between point where no one’s really listening to them. If I can give them even one hour a day where they feel heard? That’s worth everything. I’m just glad that Mrs. Kaws is on light duty for her pregnancy, it’s comforting to know that she trusts me to teach her kids.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Kellin’s phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with the name of his pack member.

Justin .

Kellin froze, mid-gesture, like someone had hit pause on him. His fork hovered halfway to his mouth, and the brightness in his face drained so fas t it made Vic’s stomach twist. His eyes locked on the screen, wide and almost fearful, like the phone itself was dangerous.

“Hey-” Vic started softly, but Kellin didn’t move and didn’t breathe.

“Don’t,” he said quickly and sharply, before Vic could even react. “Do not answer that.”

Vic frowned, setting his own fork down. “Kellin-”

“No. He cannot see us like this.” Kellin’s voice cracked, wolfy panic creeping into the edges, his shoulders were tight, his knuckles white around the counter. He looked terrified, like someone who had been cornered by a killer.

The phone buzzed again. Vic hesitated only a second before reaching out and sliding it across the table to himself. “I’ll get it,” he murmured, like he was announcing it to make it less intrusive, before swiping to answer.

“Hey,” Vic said as evenly as he could, Kellin’s panic causing his own to spike in his chest.

“Vic?” Justin’s voice was surprised on the other end, then amused. “Well, shit. Guess I don’t need to ask where Kellin is.”

Kellin’s whole body jolted. “Vic!” he hissed, eyes flashing with anger, but Vic just tilted the phone toward him.

Justin carried on, his tone casual. “So, I was calling to see if Kellin wants me to drop his stuff off today. His mom didn’t put up a fight, man- actually tossed half of it on the curb before I even got there. Thought I’d save him the trouble and grab what I could before she did burn it.”

Kellin winced like it hurt to hear, his appetite gone instantly. He ran a hand down his face, voice low and stiff as he leaned closer to the phone. “Hey, uh… maybe not today. I’ve got work. Can we do it later?”

Justin hummed, a chuckle slipping through. “Yeah, sure. Or maybe you’re just too busy having breakfast with your vampire boyfriend to deal with it, huh?”

Kellin’s fork nearly slipped from his hand. His face went red, then pale. “Justin, shut the fuck up,” he snapped, too fast, and defensive.

Vic blinked, chest tightening. So Justin really did know. Fuck his life.

“C’mon, don’t act like I’m wrong,” Justin said, his grin audible through the line. “You literally sound… different. Like happier. Guess he’s treating you good.”

Kellin groaned into his hands. “You’re a goddamn pain in my ass, you know that?”

Vic reached under the counter, brushing Kellin’s wrist. “Hey,” he said quietly, “Breathe. It’s fine.”

Kellin glanced at him, eyes wide and wolfy, then quickly looked away.

Justin kept going, less teasing now. “I’ll just drop the stuff off. No big deal. I don’t wanna keep it in my car. You don’t even have to see me if you don’t want to.”

Kellin hesitated, clearly struggling, jaw tight as if chewing on all the things he couldn’t say. Vic sighed, and stepped in.

“Just bring it by while he’s at work,” Vic said, wincing as his voice cracked awkwardly. “Leave it at the door. He’ll deal with it when he gets home.”

Kellin’s head snapped toward him, his eyes burning. What the hell are you doing? his look said.

But Justin only laughed softly. “Sounds good. Guess I’ll play delivery boy. Unless the bloodsucker wants to pick it up himself.”

Vic’s jaw tensed, but Kellin’s voice cut sharp before he could speak. “Enough. Just text Vic when you’re outside. That’s it.”

There was a pause, then Justin’s voice softened, cutting through the banter. “Hey. I’m not trying to make it worse, alright? I just want you to be okay. I’ll drop your crap and be out. Promise.”

The line clicked off. The kitchen went dead quiet except for the faint ticking of the stove cooling. Kellin’s fork was still in his hand, but he wasn’t eating anymore. He stared down at his plate like it had betrayed him, his shoulders trembling.

“Vic,” he muttered, his voice ragged, “why would you push like that? He sees everything. He’ll never let it go.”

Vic leaned forward, his elbows braced on the counter, his voice steady in contrast to Kellin’s fray despite the internal panic happening in his brain. “He already knew. You heard him. Pretending otherwise just gives him more power to dig.”

Kellin shook his head, wolf pacing under his skin, eyes glassy with panic. “He’s my pack, Vic. He’s been there my whole life basically. He doesn’t let shit slide. If he thinks this is- if he thinks you and me are-” His voice caught.

Vic reached across, catching Kellin’s hand firmly. He tried to be strong for the wolf best he could. “Then he can think that until we label that,” he said, softer but with conviction. “And maybe that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

Kellin’s lip trembled as he ducked his head, hair falling into his face. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he whispered.

Vic squeezed his hand, thumb brushing the inside of Kellin’s wrist where the pulse ran quick and strong. “Yeah, I do.”

For a moment Kellin sat frozen, then slowly sagged forward, pressing his forehead against Vic’s shoulder, his fork clattering forgotten onto the plate.

“You’re gonna get me killed,” he muttered, muffled against Vic’s shirt.

Vic held him tighter, the food forgotten, and Kellin’s phone on silent. “Or I’ll keep you alive,” he murmured into Kellin’s hair. “Guess we’ll see.”

“You sure you’ll be good here?” Kellin asked, voice muffled through the cotton. “He’ll probably text again.”

Vic offered him the same easy smile he used on everyone else when he was trying to hide the cracks. “I’ll handle it. Go do your Mr. Quinn thing.”

Kellin narrowed his eyes, suspicion written plain across his face. “Don’t let him get to you.”

“I won’t.”

The lie came too smooth. Kellin must’ve sensed it, but instead of calling him out, he just leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Vic’s temple before standing and ducking out the door.

The apartment was too quiet after. Vic sat with their half-finished breakfast still on the table, scrolling through his phone like it would anchor him, but every buzz made his chest clench until, sure enough, a text appeared.

What time should I swing by with Kellin’s stuff?

Vic stared at the message, thumb hovering. He could already hear Kellin’s voice in his head telling him to just say “later” or “don’t come.” But the wolf had looked exhausted, already carrying too much on his shoulders.

Vic typed back before he could second-guess himself:

before 4. Kellin’s at work until then.

The dots blinked.

Cool. I’ll drop it off. Ez.

Vic exhaled and tossed the phone onto the couch, scrubbing both hands over his face.

By the time 4 pm rolled around, the sun had dipped low enough to paint the apartment in warm, gold light. Vic had told himself a dozen times that Justin would just leave the stuff at the door. No problem.

But then came the knock.

Vic froze in the middle of the living room. His pulse thudded at the base of his throat, ridiculous but undeniable. It’s fine. It’s fine. Just answer it.

The knock came again.

Dragging in a breath, Vic pushed himself off the couch and padded to the door. His hand hovered over the knob for a second too long, betraying the internal panic he’d never admit out loud. He turned it anyway and pulled the door open. Justin stood there, one hand braced on the doorframe, a couple of duffel bags slung over his shoulder and a lopsided grin on his face. 

“Well,” Justin said, giving Vic a slow once-over before shifting the bags higher. “Guess the rumors are true.”

Vic’s throat tightened. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Justin shifted the duffels on his shoulder and glanced past Vic into the apartment, brows lifting. “Mind if I come in? Stuff’s heavy.”

Vic froze for a half-beat, hoodie tugged up higher around his throat, before forcing a casual nod. “Yeah- uh, sure. Come in.”

He stepped aside and Justin breezed past him, dropping one bag with a solid thump just inside the doorway. The place suddenly felt claustrophobic, the quiet hum of the apartment too sharp against the sound of Justin’s boots on the hardwood. Vic shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket, tugging the fabric higher like it could shield the faint sting of Kellin’s mark on his neck.

“Nice setup,” Justin said, giving the place a once-over like he was taking inventory. “Cleaner than I expected, honestly.”

Justin wandered deeper in, shoulders loose, curiosity radiating off him. “So… still at the mortuary?”

Vic relaxed just enough to answer. “Yeah. Still there. It’s… steady work. Not glamorous, but someone has to do it.”

“Steady’s good,” Justin nodded, pacing the edge of the living room like a wolf scenting out a new den. “And you don’t reek of formaldehyde, so I guess you’ve got the balance down.” His grin tugged sharper, mischief glinting in his eyes as he turned back toward Vic.

Vic was about to reply when Justin let the grin break wider, his tone suddenly playful and cutting all at once. “Though, speaking of smells…” He leaned back against the wall, arms folding. “I could smell that you and Kellin had sex from a mile away, dude.”

The words landed like a sucker punch, Vic’s breath stalling in his throat. He almost choked on air, tugging his hoodie tighter up around his neck like it could erase the evidence Justin had already picked up on. Vic’s throat worked around a swallow he didn’t take. Justin’s grin flattened, the teasing gone as quickly as it came. His arms uncrossed, falling to his sides like he was bracing himself for something. His eyes sharpened, all wolf in his expression.

“I know who you are, Vic,” Justin said flatly, his voice dropping the casual tone he’d carried in with him. “I’ve heard the stories.”

Vic blinked, startled by the sudden shift. “Stories?”

Justin’s jaw ticked. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve got a rep. You hop from partner to partner like it’s nothing. Everyone in Kellin’s orbit knows it.” He leaned forward slightly, the weight of his stare pressing Vic into place. “Hell, there’s still a rumor floating around that you knocked up Alani before ghosting her.”

The name hit Vic like a blow to the chest. His breath hitched. “That’s-” His voice cracked, then steadied with forced calm. “That’s not how it happened.”

Justin’s eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, like he could smell the lie even if it wasn’t there. “Doesn’t matter how you spin it. Point is, Kellin isn’t some random hookup you can fuck around with and then bail on when things get messy.” His voice hardened further, protective steel threading through every word. “He’s not a notch on your belt. He’s my packmate. He’s been through enough shit to last ten lifetimes. If you hurt him-”

“I’m not going to hurt him.” Vic cut in, a little sharper than he meant to, the guilt, anxiety, and defensiveness flaring in his chest.

Justin didn’t back down. If anything, his gaze darkened. “That’s what they all say. That’s what you said about Alani, right? That you weren’t going to hurt her? That you’d be different this time? And where is she now?” 

Vic’s throat closed. He couldn’t answer that, couldn’t untangle the mess of what happened with Alani without ripping himself open in front of a wolf who looked ready to tear him apart if the wrong words came out. Justin must’ve seen the silence for what it was, because he pushed harder. His voice dropped to a growl, not loud but steady. “Kellin doesn’t need another heartbreak, Vic. He doesn’t need someone who’s gonna treat him like he’s temporary. You’ve seen what he’s dealing with- Lone Wolf Syndrome isn’t a fucking joke. Every flare-up chips at him. Every stressor, every betrayal, every ounce of abandonment eats him alive and literally fucking kills him more.”

Vic’s chest constricted. He knew. God, he knew. He’d seen the way Kellin spiraled, the way his wolf clawed through the cracks when panic set in. He’d felt the weight of it on his body, and pressed into his skin.

Justin took a step closer, closing the space between them, his voice quieter now but no less sharp. “He trusted you enough to stay here. He trusted you enough to let you see him like that. That’s not something Kellin does lightly. And now I walk in here, and I can smell him on you, and you on him, and I know what that means.” His gaze flicked briefly to Vic’s collar, hood failing to fully cover the faint mark. His lips pressed into a thin line. “So, I’m gonna ask you straight. Are you serious about him? Or are you gonna do what you always do and run the second things get complicated, like you fucking tossed in his face?”

Vic’s hands tightened in his hoodie pocket, nails digging into his palms. The walls of his chest felt like they were collapsing inward. “You don’t know me.” His voice was quiet, more fragile than defiant.

Justin’s laugh was humorless and bitter. “I know enough. I know the trail you leave behind. I know Kellin deserves better than to be your rebound from Gerard or whoever. Get over yourself man.”

The mention of Gerard twisted something raw inside Vic. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding, but Justin didn’t let up.

“You wanna play house with him? Fine. But don’t you dare make him believe you’re in this for the long haul if you’re already planning your exit.” Justin’s voice cracked then, not from weakness but from the sheer force of how much he meant it. His wolf was showing through, protective, and fierce. “Because if you break him, Vic… if you push him into another flare-up that he doesn’t come back from? That’s on you. And I swear to god, I will never forgive you for it.”

The apartment air felt suffocating, heavy with the weight of everything Justin had laid out there. Vic’s chest heaved, his breath shallow as his pulse roared in his ears. He wanted to argue, to scream that he wasn’t the guy Justin was painting him as, that Kellin wasn’t some fragile porcelain doll who would shatter at one wrong touch. But the words stuck.

Underneath all of it, the fear that Justin was right gnawed at him.

Justin studied him for a long moment, eyes searching, piercing through the veil Vic tried to hold in place. And when Vic stayed silent, he shook his head slowly, his disappointment cutting deeper than anger.

“You don’t get it yet,” Justin muttered, grabbing the duffel bag from the floor again. “You think this is about whether or not you can handle being with him. But it’s not about you, Vic. It’s about whether Kellin can survive you .”

The words lodged like glass in Vic’s chest. He staggered half a step back, his hoodie tugged tight like armor he didn’t have.

Justin paused, giving him one last look that was equal parts warning and plea. “Don’t fuck this up. Because if you do, you’ll break him in ways you can’t fix. And he won’t come back from it this time.”

Justin stared at Vic for a long, suffocating second after spitting out that last line, his eyes like sharpened steel. Then, without another word, he took the duffel, and dropped it with a heavy thud right at Vic’s feet. The sound echoed through the apartment like a gavel strike.

“The rest of Kellin’s shit is on the porch,” Justin said flatly, his voice stripped of all warmth. “His guitar, his notes for class, more clothes. Thought I’d at least bring the important bag inside so it didn’t get rained on.” His gaze cut over Vic one last time, pointed and sharp, landing briefly on the collar of his hoodie. The implication in that look was enough to make Vic’s stomach churn.

And then Justin turned on his heel, hand tight on the door handle. He didn’t slam it, didn’t make a scene. The door just shut behind him with a muted click , the sound somehow worse than if he’d yelled and slammed the door. Vic stood there for a beat, pulse hammering, staring at the duffel at his feet like it had teeth. The weight of the whole exchange pressed down on him until it felt like the apartment walls were closing in.

Finally, moving on autopilot, he crouched and unzipped the duffel. Inside, Kellin’s clothes were folded haphazardly, his shirts crumpled, jeans stuffed in, like Justin hadn’t really cared how it looked. Vic’s chest ached at the thought of Kellin’s mom tossing his things on the curb like trash.

Dragging in a breath, Vic forced himself to his feet and headed for the door. When he opened it, the morning air hit him, crisp and too bright. Sure enough, the rest of Kellin’s things were sitting in an uneven stack on the porch, an old milk crate filled with worn notebooks, a pair of scuffed sneakers set on top, and Kellin’s guitar case leaning against the wall, scuffed but still intact.

Vic froze at the sight of it. The guitar case especially, because it was so Kellin . He imagined Kellin’s hands moving across the strings, the concentration that pulled at his face when he played, and his stomach tightened with something tender and painful all at once. He crouched, fingers brushing over the cold metal latches of the case before picking it up carefully, like it was more fragile than it actually was. Then he gathered the crate, balancing it against his hip, and nudged the sneakers on top with his chin before backing inside. 

The door clicked shut behind him again, but this time the apartment felt fuller. Vic set the guitar case gently against the wall and lowered the crate beside it, staring at the small, mismatched collection. Kellin’s scent was already everywhere, but now his things- his life , sat in the corner of Vic’s living room. Tidy piles of someone else’s history suddenly crammed into his space.

Vic pressed his hands to his knees and sighed. Justin’s words still rang in his ears, sharp as claws. “ It’s not about you. It’s about whether Kellin can survive you.”

And now, with Kellin’s things sitting in his apartment like they belonged there, the weight of it felt even heavier.

Vic sat back on his heels, staring at the crate and the guitar case leaned neatly in the corner. His chest still felt tight, like Justin’s lecture had been a fist around his ribcage. He pressed the heel of his hand to his sternum, trying to breathe through it, when his phone buzzed on the coffee table.

A text from Jaime lit the screen:

Hey loser. me and tony are doing dinner tomorrow night and we want u to Bring kellin. u in?

For a second Vic just blinked at it, the words swimming. Double date. The phrase made his stomach lurch, it was too intimate, like a spotlight shining on something he and Kellin hadn’t even defined yet. His thumb hovered over the screen. He thought about typing something, like maybe, or I’ll ask him , but the thought of acknowledging it at all made his pulse spike. So he just locked the phone and tossed it back onto the couch cushion, leaving Jaime on read.

Silence settled around him again. Vic sank onto the couch, elbows braced on his knees, eyes fixed on Kellin’s guitar case in the corner. The apartment felt crowded in a new way, the air charged. He imagined Kellin walking in, seeing his whole life shoved into neat little piles in a stranger’s apartment, and wondered if it would make him feel safe… or trapped.