Disclaimer: I don't own Netflix's "Van Helsing" or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: I recently got into "Van Helsing" and fell in love with Flesh (Phil) and the Phil x Lucky pairing. AU on the post-season two finale.

Warnings: vampires, blood drinking, past trauma, hurt/comfort, sexual content, biting, romance, established relationship, drama, light angst.

Vad

They didn't talk about it.

How sometimes when they bedded down for the night he rolled over and had her in a way that was nothing like his usual conscientious softness.

How there was a chillingly familiar edge to his growls and the sounds he made when he was lost in it - too close to the edge to really be aware of it. In those moments where it was just him and her and the smell of crushed pine underneath her. When she was so wet she could hear herself and he was snarling onto her neck, hips bucking. When he had a steady pressure on her clit and she was squirming, surging, too much. That was where that part of him lived. Where it showed itself sometimes before fading just as quickly as the afterglow.

She didn't know how much of him was consciously aware of it when it happened. But she did know how he acted after the fact. Pressing kisses into the divot bruises like individual apologies the next time they were naked and alone. Murmuring promises to be more gentle next time - or sometimes just flat out confused how they'd gotten there.

It was endearing.

Sometimes.

Most times she didn't know what to do about it.

The man carried around more than enough guilt as it was. The last thing she wanted to do was add to it. To look him in the eyes and tell him that sometimes she didn't know who she was taking to bed. Him or whatever was left of the vampire he used to be.

'It was the spring time,' she thought. At least at first. 'Makes everyone a little crazy. Green growing things and all that.' God knows she was grateful to leave the bone-chill of winter behind. To finally be able to feel warm again and not freeze her ass off every time she wanted to feel him against her skin.

But Spring had come and gone. And with it more than a few theories. Now she just figured that some days the animal was a bit closer to the surface than others. Muzzled and declawed, but still there. Still hungry.

She never said anything about it.

And neither did he.

She had a feeling her silence was the only thing keeping him level as far as coping was concerned. And really, it wasn't like she was complaining.

Because call her what you wanted, but she liked it.

She could admit that without even an inch of shame.

Because just like always, he left her lax and satisfied.

It was still him.

It was just more.

And sometimes, she needed it too.

Deep down she figured they all did.

Because honestly, part of her lived for those nights when he demanded more. Teeth grazing her neck as he trailed hungry, reverent sounds down her skin. Nuzzling her throat as he circled her clit. Muscles buzzing tired and close to cramping before he finally flipped her on her hands and knees and pushed into her with a growl. She'd already be breathing high and raspy by that point, hands curled into the molding carpet. Feeling his hips hiccup - stuttering the brutal rhythm - when she looked over her shoulder and bared her teeth right back. Smirking into the dust when he almost lost it.

Hard to believe just a few months ago she didn't even know his name.

Tonight was one of those nights – need and frustration slow-cooked to a tender, butter-soft by days on the run and an oppressive slick of humid heat that had them all sweating and uncomfortable. Seeing it coming in the tightening lines around his mouth and the way his eyes lingered on the valley of her breasts when she stripped down to just her jeans and sports bra when they made camp in an abandoned motel for the night.

She was ready for him when he backed her into the corner of the room they'd claimed and shut the door behind him with a brutal snap. Letting him yank at the buttons of her jeans and pool them around her ankles as she squirmed out of her bra. Leaving her naked in the moonlight streaming through the boarded up window until his mouth was on hers again.

Only for the first time, the pace, the roughness- it was like it wasn't enough. With Phil's kisses turning angry and frustrated as he tried to pull her closer. Like he wanted to live inside her skin as his movements changed from smooth and predatory to jerky and uncoordinated.

He needed something more this time.

Maybe-

She tried to distract him by palming his cock. Jacking him off with the quick, efficient strokes he liked when he was like this. Where delayed gratification wasn't a concept he understood. At all. But it was no use. In fact, it was worse. Realizing all at once that he was trying to force himself not to move away while she was touching him. She stopped like she'd been burned. Petting the crinkled brown hairs that crowned his sex until he met her eyes - if only briefly.

"What is it?" she asked. "Hey, tell me."

He shook his head, lips pulled back in a silent rictus snarl before tossing her bodily onto the bed. The frame creaked an audible warning as she landed, but before she could shift around or maybe peek her head underneath and figure out if there was anything they could use to shore it up, he was already on her. Covering her over as he dragged his cheek down the smooth plane of her belly. Spreading delicious pin-pricks of pleasure and pain as the stubble burned across her sensitive skin.

But it still wasn't enough.

He was trying, but there was something missing.

Maybe even something they'd been working up to all this time but didn't know how to put into words.

She looked down at him, shadowed and stark between the valley of her breasts. Watching as he mouthed the curve of her ribs. Blunt human teeth just barely glinting in the low light and-

Oh.

She wasn't sure what possessed her to do it. In truth it could have been a disaster. Dredging up horrible memories of when he'd been nothing more than a hungry, exposed nerve. He could have recoiled from her - horrified and disgusted. A hundred things could have gone wrong. But in that moment it'd felt so blindingly right she hadn't questioned it. She just surged up and flipped them. Forcing him down until his back was flat against the mattress, bared his throat and sunk her teeth.

There was a beat.

The chords and arteries under her teeth frozen into submission.

Supplication.

An instinctual plead.

Then-

Instead of all the things that could have gone wrong, he just groaned. Like something inside him had snapped or maybe finally slotted into place. Treating her to a full body epiphany as every muscle in him went howling-ridged. Eyes blowing wide as he curled his hands in the duvet like claws and came like that. Violent, untouched and snarling whimpers into the ceiling she knew the others would be able to hear.

She didn't care.

In fact, it only made her feel that much more self-satisfied.

Let them hear. Let them wonder. Let them-

A muscle in his leg twitched when she finally pulled away. Tongue laving at the shallow wounds her canines had made like a silent apology as he flung an arm over his eyes, breathing hard.

She licked her lips. The split ends of her hair barely ghosting the center of his chest as she remained poised above him. Hip cocked and resting against his. Apparently feeling bold enough to press her luck as his cock softened in the cradle of his thigh - both of them damp with his cum.

"Like that, big boy?" she purred, eying the way the shallow wound was reddening. How it would bruise later And how it was too warm for him to justify wearing a scarf. "Feel better?"

She wasn't expecting an answer. In fact, the pause went on long enough that she was even starting wonder if she'd read the entire thing wrong before he finally spoke.

"Yes. Fuck. Yes," he croaked, arm sliding away to show his face, ruined in the best possible way. Fingers ghosting over the red marks she'd left almost reverently as he looked up at her with eyes that were still partially slitterd in pleasure. Riding a low flaring tide very few could claim to understand.

She paused for a moment, wondering if she dared.

She did.

"Enough to return the favour?"

She considered it a point of pride when his cock actually had the wherewithal to twitch in the cradle of his thighs at that.

She ended up coming so hard she fell asleep like that. Surrounded in him as the sweat cooled on their skin and he slowly wrapped his arms around her. Acting like she was breakable, or he was just uncertain of his welcome. Listening to the reassuring hum of each others heartbeat until the dark became just another shadow underneath their eye lids.

The next morning was more sober. Waking up to him looking down at her with a worried expression. One hand hovering over the mark on her throat like he'd been about to touch.

The guilt was obvious, predicable and sweet on his face.

But, as per usual when it came to him, it was also completely misplaced.

"I'm sorry," he started lowly, glasses glinting as the early dawn filtered through the wooden slates. "About last night. I shouldn't have- I shouldn't want that. I don't know what-"

"Don't be," she cut him off, rolling closer until she was more or less draped over his side. Easing him back into the musty mattress and messed up sheets. "I wanted it."

He blinked, the muscles in his chest tensing.

"You did?"

She tossed her hair back behind her shoulder. "Yeah, I did. Besides, I bit you first, remember? And I didn't ask. That could have gone sideways on us."

He didn't look convinced, so she did one better. Not one word of it a lie. Knowing deep down that it was right. Right for him and for her. Right for the new normal they were navigating together.

"And hey, I asked for it didn't I?" she pointed out. Smirking as she stretched against him. Breasts pillowing against his arm as she yawned. "Always been a bit of a biter anyway."

She got a front row seat when his eyes went dark in the best possible way. Smiling into the kiss he stole as he huffed at her with gentle exasperation - still looking at her like she couldn't quite be real as he rolled her onto her back and hitched her leg up over his shoulder. Opening her up with his fingers and tongue as she sighed and buried her fingers in his hair.

She was already looking forward to the next time the animal came out to play.

A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. This story is now complete.

Reference:

-Vad: wild, untamed; uncontrolled, unregulated.