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Author's Note: This was written for the Mistletoe in a May Slashy Santa. I know it starts out *ahem* slightly angsty but I swear, it gets smutty and sexy later :)
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There’d been an attack on the Circus. Nathaniel and Anita had stopped off on their way home because Anita had wanted to speak to Jean-Claude. Nathaniel had waited in the car. That had been a mistake.
He’d been sitting in the jeep, playing with the radio, when he first sensed the demon.
It had gone after Nathaniel in a fury, tossing him out of the car and onto the pavement. Nathaniel hadn’t had a chance. His stomach had been torn to pieces and he was practically bathing in his own blood, and then, just as the demon got bored, his heart had slowed and stopped. Not even a wereleopard could lose his organs.
Anita had felt it immediately and had barely been able to stay conscious. Jean-Claude had sent out a wash of urgency: everyone in the building knew the danger.
It had been Asher and Meng Die who’d done the most damage. Jean-Claude and Damian were severely hindered through the marks, and although Jean-Claude pumped out his power, there was little he could do.
The first thing he’d thought when Asher had seen the demon, was those claws are longer than my neck.
It had tried to fight them all off, but there were too many of them. Meng Die had gutted it with one of Damian’s swords, much like it had Nathaniel, and Asher had used its own claws against itself.
It was Anita’s necromancy that had finally ended it; she’d been wobbling near the main entrance when she’d called her power and sucked it to its death.
The few spare seconds that had passed afterwards seemed to go on for an eternity. Asher had been on top of the demon’s corpse, so he’d ripped off the head in a fury.
Damian had been the first to reach Nathaniel. He’d rolled him over slowly so the cat laid on his back. His abdomen was a mess of misplaced flesh, blood, and dirt that had clung to him from the pavement. One leg had been bent at an odd angle beneath him.
Anita had screamed, barely making it to the cat’s side before she crumpled to the ground. Even as she grabbed his wrist for a pulse, it had been too late.
*
Asher rubbed the silky hair between his fingers. It had only been a few weeks ago when he hadn’t been allowed to amuse himself with such locks.
Nathaniel lay half over top of him, still asleep. He’d taken to sneaking into Asher’s room before he woke and dozing off.
Naturally, Asher had taken to something else too. Sleeping nude. Nathaniel hadn’t commented.
It had been just over a month since the demon had stormed towards the Circus. Anita had tracked it down to yet another Humans Against Vampires spin-off, much like Humans First. This one had called themselves The Pure Society. They hadn’t just wanted to get rid of vampires, but lycanthropes too. The imbecile who’d tried to control the demon by locking it in his basement was dead. So was his family. Apparently, PS had decided that they were going to wait a few days before releasing it. The demon hadn’t waited, but it had been programmed enough that it went to the Circus anyway.
Nathaniel had been dead. His heart had stopped beating. His entrails had been on public display. Damian and Anita would have likely died too, only her ties to Richard and Jean-Claude had saved them.
Anita had been distraught, sobbing over the body. She’d glanced up at Asher, with such desperation, that he’d known that he’d had to do something.
So he’d done something.
It wasn’t like he’d disliked the leopard beforehand. There was no hesitation. But only afterwards had the full consequences of his actions been shown to him.
He’d given the four marks to Nathaniel.
Technically, Nathaniel was already dead and the marks wouldn’t work. But Anita and Damian had been there and they were still alive. They’d already been shoving energy into Nathaniel, and along with Jean-Claude’s aid, and Richard, wherever he was, the marks had been accepted.
Immediately, Asher had felt the death, the looming emptiness which was tugging on his heart. And he’d felt Anita’s necromancy, along with her and Damian’s pain. Vaguely, he’d felt Jean-Claude, and wolf; but the strongest was leopard.
And then he’d felt a beat. A faint thumping, irregular and sporadic, but there nonetheless.
Within the hour, the entire pard, pack, rodere and a few strays were packed into the Circus. Lillian had made a quick call and the paramedics had come. But rather than any paramedics, they were friends of Lillian. They’d let her take over and use their equipment like good little humans.
Asher had been terrified. More so than when he’d faced the demon. He had a human servant again. What would Juliana do if she found out that he’d replaced her? It had always come back to her. But all the while he was thinking of her, Nathaniel’s heartbeat echoed in his mind.
He’d stayed in the far corner of Jean-Claude’s room, where Nathaniel had been lain out on the bed. Lillian had done her magic in record time. Within a few hours, Nathaniel’s insides were back where they belonged.
It had been deemed too cruel to make Nathaniel shift immediately, and although Micah had the strength, Anita didn’t, and since the patient in question had been barely conscious, they’d decided to leave it for another few hours. He was in pain, obviously, but not conscious enough to feel it. Damian and Anita could feel it. They could have shut the marks, but they hadn’t. Asher had only known this because he hadn’t shut down the marks either.
For one, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. But he also wasn’t sure how. It had been so long since he’d last had a human servant, and even then, he had rarely shut the marks.
Nathaniel suddenly moved beside him and it brought Asher’s attention back to the leopard.
No more daydreams, Asher decided, they were pointless. Nathaniel was not still laid precariously on Jean-Claude’s bed, barely with the living. He was lying beside him wearing old jeans and nothing else, with a steady heartbeat.
“Hi,” Nathaniel said sleepily, rubbing the side of his face against Asher’s chest.
Asher let the silky hair fall from his fingers, “Good evening, mon améthiste,”
He lifted his head languidly and glanced up, “You’re thinking too hard, Asher,”
“Ah, but I was thinking of you,” he answered lazily.
Nathaniel smiled and shifted so his face was inches above his. He lowered himself tentatively back onto him and brushed his lips over Asher’s hesitantly.
Asher pulled him down on top of him and bit his lower lip gently. He slid his arm across the were’s lower back and stopped just so his fingers could edge underneath the jeans.
“Will you feed now or later?” Nathaniel asked, pulling back ever so slightly and quirking his neck to the side.
Asher glanced at the smooth bare neck. The two tiny puncture marks he’d been making for the last month stood out against the flawless skin. In a flash, he rolled them over so he was straddling him. “Now, mon améthiste. I wish to try something, trust me?”
He could both sense Nathaniel’s excitement at the prospect of the feeding, and smell it as the leopard nodded wordlessly. It was their first time feeding somewhere other than the neck or wrist. Initially, Asher had tried to dull down the affects of his bite, but lately, he hadn’t bothered.
Slowly, he trailed down the were’s body, brushing his lips down the bare chest. He dipped his tongue into his belly button and felt a shudder in response.
Nathaniel trembled slightly, grabbing onto the golden sheets with both hands. His jeans were tight against him, the thin material being the only thing between his body and Asher’s. “Asher…”
With both hands on his hips, Asher rolled his eyes up and watched Nathaniel’s face as his tongue snuck out and licked. He glanced back down at the work beneath him and slowly began sucking at the skin just below his belly button.
He opened his mouth wider and let his fangs pierce the tiny vein. Immediately, the sweet liquid slipped between his lips, mixed with the sweat of his skin, and the pure vanilla taste that was uniquely him.
“Please Asher,” Nathaniel moaned softly, lifting his hips in vain. Even with the marks, after the month they’d been feeding together, the bite still sent him into a flurry. His heart was pounding frantically, and just the feeling of Asher’s weight on top of him immobilizing his legs was edging him closer to the brink.
With the marks wholly open, Asher swallowed the blood lavishly, savoring the smooth texture against his tongue.
The breath caught in his throat and Nathaniel struggled weakly against him. His senses were overwhelmed, screeching of the musky, intoxicating smell he’d learned to recognize so acutely, of the smooth skin against his, of Asher. He quivered violently, and then grasped two handfuls of Asher’s shimmering hair. Suddenly, he jerked forward and came in his jeans, gasping for breath.
Asher felt his release immediately, and licked away the two tiny pools of blood. He chuckled lowly, still pressing his face against Nathaniel’s abdomen. Slowly, he raised himself up and laid a light kiss on the two wounds he’d created. “You will be the death of me, mon améthiste,”
Nathaniel groaned softly, and stared violet eyes down at him. The marks were still open and he could sense Asher’s contentment. Before the marks, he’d always seemed somewhat distant, but now, he always had that air of satisfaction. Even Jean-Claude had mentioned it. And it was because of little ole him, the sub leopard.
“Now it is you who are thinking too hard,” Asher said after a few moments, sprawling out beside him.
Gradually, a wide smile spread out over Nathaniel’s face. He reached out and scraped his fingernails across Asher’s chest, “Guess you’ll have to remedy that.”
The End