Not my characters.
Set whenever you like, if it's important to you that they aren't brothers then that's cool but if you know me and my writing, you know that never stopped me before.
No specific prompt for this, I just wanted some Vlad/Malik fun, there's some of everything in 'Siblings' but this is all boy loving. And probably a little bit (alot) messed up, may be a flicker of dub con for a second but I never write non-con.
-YD-
Scowling into his drink, Vlad didn't know what was worse about being reminded Malik and Erin were together - that he realised he had wasted his first bite on little more than his first proper teenage crush and called it love, or that it wasn't Erin he was missing. Angrily throwing the glass aside and enjoying the satisfying sound of breaking glass as it shattered against the wall, Vlad leaned back in his coffin and growled to himself in frustration.
Ever since the first time he had laid eyes on Malik, all bad boy attitude and leather jackets flying around on a motorcycle - every bit the cliche - he had set Vlad on edge. At first he had told himself it was just the danger, that he was keeping an eye on Malik because he was a threat. Vlad didn't see the arrogant smirk in his dreams, didn't admit to himself he was losing interest in Erin's soft curves and sweet demeanour. Adze was enough to throw a spanner in the works - she wasn't unattractive, but as Vlad realised it was her dark and dangerous aura he wanted, and not her body, he grew more frustrated with himself.
Erin's near death was a jolt, and Vlad knew he had to prove to himself he loved the girl, the sweet and loving human, to prove he didn't crave lean muscles and blood lust and leather jackets. Erin hated him for turning her, so it was all a steaming pile of garlic there and Vlad had given up the only thing that was keeping him alive with regards to half the VHC - his power share. Not to mention he had violated the cease-fire. Ingrid understood, it was there in her eyes under the malice and amusement as she corrupted Erin further - she had wanted Malik and he had rejected her. Bertrand was invaluable as a kind of stress relief, not fighting Vlad turning to him and taking him.
Bertrand wasn't what he truly craved, but the thick muscles and deep groans, sharp angles and underlying darkness was enough to make his cock rise, to revel in the primal fucks and even enjoy the way a man spurted over his hand, the evidence of what he had done splattered across dark fabric and stone floors. Some part of him acknowledged his desire for Malik, accepted that given the chance Vlad would take it. So he lay on his stomach and told Bertrand to take him, not wanting to have a nostalgic memory of Malik inside him as some kind of 'first time'. He wasn't denying it was Bertrand behind him as rough fingers eased the way, stretched him open, but he knew Bertrand was more than a little well endowed and he had heard it hurt less this way. It was better than he expected, less painful and the pressure inside him, especially the brush over a bundle of hypersensitive nerves from the thick head of Bertrands cock, had him seeing stars and coming like a freight train. The dynamic was more even after that, fighting practice followed by sex practically standard as Bertrand trained him. It was kind of separate, Vlad could hardly stand the quiet and logical tutor when he was trying to make Vlad face his problems, but when it came to the sunrise in their coffins Bertrand was almost all he could think about.
He supposed that was why it hurt so much. Feeling betrayed, Erin and Malik and Ingrid and Bertrand and it was all too much, making him lash out and stake the only person who had stuck by him as it turned out Malik was a Dracula, as Erin turned darker and darker but she wasn't what he wanted, not anymore. The fight with Malik was every kind of wrong, Vlad felt like it was almost foreplay as he and his brother threw each other around, hating himself for the way his body responded when Malik pinned him down, and there was a brief flicker of surprise in his eyes that told Vlad his older brother had felt it. Feeling like he had to cover it up, he declared "you know I'm stronger than you, you'll never win!". The battle for dominance shouldn't have aroused him, especially not when it was his brother, but the lean body and the scent of leather and anger and fire in the air, filling his lungs, Vlad was ablaze. When Malik finally went for broke, darting down and kissing Erin, everything he wanted and hated and craved and reviled all in one place Vlad snapped, ignoring Bertrands warnings ringing in his ears and throwing out the zoning light.
The rebound was unexpected, the crystal utter torture as every single thought he was trying to ignore screamed in his head. Shaking with disgust in himself, he rejected Bertrands touch, his help as the crystal shattered and his body was freed. Part of him knew Bertrand had been with him the whole time, but he was too fried, too lost in it all to listen to reason as he called Bertrand a traitor. Them Adze and Mina turned up, and Mina staked Adze and everyone said it was Bertrand. And then there was the Count, Ingrid and Malik locked in the attic and almost dusted, his father clearly accepting Malik as his son and it tore at his soul. Dusting Bertrand was cathartic in a way as now he had nobody expecting anything of him, leaving him to drink blood until his brain was hazy night after night. For all he knew, the coexistence deal had crumbled, and there were dust piles or drained slayers all over Garside.
He regretted breaking his glass, as he had no blood left in his room now and he was nowhere near the state of oblivion he wanted that night. Bertrands final whispered 'no' haunted him, guilt gnawing at his insides. But even through all of that, he still wanted Malik. Accepting defeat against his desire to drink until he couldn't think, Vlad climbed out of his coffin and unlocked his bedroom door for the first time in days. There were no sounds of violent anguish, so he didn't expect much drama as he ventured down towards the blood cellar. The quarters were almost dead silent as he walked, disappearing down the back staircase to lead to the basement of the school building - off limits to anyone with a pulse given they kept the blood mirror and blood cellar, not to mention the training room down here.
Almost completely ambivalent to whether or not he was staked by now, Vlad found Malik alone in the blood cellar. "Just came for a drink." "Do what you like. No audience to perform to here." Raising an eyebrow but saying nothing in return, Vlad swallowed back the dark wants he had for the vampire watching him and focused on the rows and rows of blood. The "where is everyone?" fell from his mouth without permission from his brain, and he resolutely kept his eyes on the bottles. "Dad is off trying to chat up that Miss McCauley, the girls are off doing garlic knows what, I'm not really interested. Renfield took Wolfie out for a walk. Which is an odd thing in itself." Even Maliks voice twisted inside Vlad, pulsing with ill-advised desire. "Thought you would want to keep track of Erin, you certainly wanted me to know you had her before." Refusal to turn around and face Malik, and by extension himself, Vlad almost jumped in surprise as the leather jacket he had fantasies about creaked next to him.
"Like I said. No audience to perform to here. That was her idea, she wanted to get under your skin." Malik leaned over him, the scent of leather and fire sending sparks skittering over his skin as the older Dracula reached up and pulled down a bottle of blood. Giving up on not staring, Vlad's eyes fixed on the bottle as the stopper came out, a rich and heady flavour breathing out of the neck of it. Malik's mouth twisted upwards with a smirk, lifting the bottle to his lips under Vlad's gaze and drinking deeply. The muscles of his throat swallowing, the obscene sound of satisfaction as he held the bottle out to Vlad, the flavour of vintage blood thick and velvety across his tongue and sliding down his throat. Vlad felt dazed, shivering inwardly under the dark gaze of Maliks eyes and feeling the hand clutching the now empty bottle quiver.
He idly noticed that Malik had stopped wearing the motorcycle gloves, his bare palm against Vlad's throat as he was pinned to the wall. The bottle fell from his hand, somehow rolling away rather than smashing into the floor as shattered, glittering pieces that would reflect how Vlad felt perfectly. "Do it. Get it over with." Malik shook his head, leaning in closer and Vlad could feel fangs against his ear. "Not yet." Vlad was about to ask what he was waiting for, but then the hand on his neck tightened and Maliks mouth was on his, and any semblance of thought was replaced by blazing need, his hands moving to clutch at the leather jacket Malik never seemed to take off. The usual panting that accompanied arousal was impossible where the hand constricted his airway, and Vlad should have been horrified to find that only aroused him further. He wasn't, his hips bucking and finding Malik as aroused as him, thrusting up again to press their erections together.
Malik pressed closer, letting go of his neck and sliding both hands under his shirt. This time he couldn't fight the shiver, leaning up for another rough, brutal kiss that both of them could feel fangs and tongue in, taste the dull echo of flavour in vampire blood as the soft skin of their lips broke under the pressure and points. Part of Vlad stayed aware, making sure this was not some twisted way to make him lower his guard enough to be staked, but the rest of him was awash with sensation as Malik dug his fingers in bruisingly to his hips. His pupils were blown, the black almost entirely swallowing the brown and Vlad knew nobody could fake that level of desire. Desperate to feel more but unwilling to lose the scent of leather heavy between them, Vlad gripped Maliks t-shirt collar between both hands and yanked, the sound of fabric tearing clean oddly satisfying. Malik growled, in annoyance or desire Vlad didn't know or care, hands finally able to match his eyes as he mapped the slender body. Malik was taller, leaner against Vlad's shorter, stockier build but it didn't matter, his dark dreams coming true one by one. He might hate himself in the morning, but right now was all that mattered.
Malik didn't tear Vlad's clothes, but he made short work of Vlad's jacket and shirt until they were bare chested against each other, cool skin belied by the heat of the moment. He made to take off his own clothes, but Vlad managed to choke out "no, leave it on" and cling to the jacket as they kissed again. Sloppy and sticky as they wrestled for dominance of the kiss, Vlad pushed further by tugging at the fastening of Maliks ridiculously tight biker trousers. There was no resistance as he yanked them open, no dream able to match the knowledge he aroused Malik, the proof thick and hard in his hand as he stroked over his cock, feeling his arousal rise another level when Malik thrust into his grip. There was no resistance from Vlad when hands found his shoulders, pushing him to his knees in an obvious command. Trying to force his fangs back wasn't easy, but he doubted Malik would appreciate puncture wounds there of all places. Fingers twisted in his hair, yanking cruelly and it hurt so beautifully Vlad almost came from the feeling alone.
His head was yanked back, forcing him to look up at Malik until his eyes fluttered shut in satisfaction as his mouth was penetrated, fantasies filled as Maliks cock pushed to the back of his throat and the hand in his hair making him little more than a sex toy. Vlad didn't fight, merely groaning at the rough tugs to his scalp and letting Malik use his mouth how he wanted, relishing the submission of the act and the fact he was getting what he wanted without having to think, he could just feel. Maliks own sounds of pleasure only stoked the flames, the pressure on his tongue as Malik fucked his mouth more intense than Vlad knew what to do with so he just let it happen again and again. He did register the rhythm growing jerky, uncoordinated and Malik'a cock grew thicker, twitching as his climax grew near. Maintaining just enough presence of mind to pull back so he wouldn't gag and choke, Vlad couldn't help whimpering in satisfaction himself as Malik grunted in completion and spurted into his mouth.
Jacket still on, that irritatingly appealing flick of hair hanging over his eyes and trousers hurriedly undone to allow Vlad access, Malik looked thoroughly debauched as he staggered back and sat on the edge of the table. Spitting into his hand while Malik was still coming down from the high, Vlad stood and moved towards him. It was a struggle one handed but Vlad was infinitely stronger than Malik as he rolled him to bend over the table, yanking the tight trousers down and kicking his legs wider apart. "Trust me, it's easier this way." was all Vlad said before he used the ejaculate in his hand to slick his fingers up - he hadn't exactly planned this and brought lubricant along with him - before pushing them into Malik roughly. He couldn't wait long enough to do this slowly, but even in his frantic, near mindless state Vlad didn't actually want to cripple the vampire with pain. Malik tried to fight him off to begin with, so Vlad used one hand against his back to hold him down, moving his fingers more until Malik jerked in surprise. The fight lessened, every brush against the 'sweet spot' inside him making Malik more invested in what was happening.
When Malik was no longer struggling at all, almost actively pushing back on Vlad's fingers for more he deemed him ready enough and moved to let him roll over again. They both wrestled the trousers and heavy boots off, Vlad tugging at his own jeans now and practically felt his cock breathe a sigh of relief as it was freed. The lean body against the table, framed only by that leather jacket Vlad loved as much as he hated, Maliks eyes a mix of lust and challenge now, Vlad smirked and moved to bite down on his own wrist. Malik looked at him in confusion for a moment, watching as Vlad dropped his arm and cupped his hand to catch the sluggish blood trail. When his blood started to run over the sides of his fingers, Vlad used it to slick his own erection and moved quickly, grabbing Malik by the hips and practically pulling him down the length of his cock in one thrust. Fighting to maintain any concious thought, Vlad made himself stay still for a minute, let the other vampire adjust to the intrusion.
"Fucking move, I can take it!" Vlad wasn't sure Malik had ever actually asked for anything so genuinely before, and felt he couldn't really let the occasion go unmarked so he moved. The first thrusts were hesitant, trying to find the angle he could put the most power into without breaking the table but once he found it, Vlad let everything melt into sensations and sounds, tight and rough friction on his cock and deep grunts of pleasure from them both interspersed amongst the sounds of skin against skin where their bodies met again and again. Once the initial pain of penetration had eased, or maybe because of it, Maliks cock was hard again, heavy against his stomach as Vlad pushed between his thighs faster. Precum oozed out whenever Vlad angled his thrusts upwards, and he felt a spike of need at the thought of Malik coming solely from getting fucked like this so he maintained the angle, gripping Maliks hips tighter. The lean stomach tightened, abdominal muscles clenching and Maliks whole body arched, come striping over his chest and even hitting his jacket.
The sight, the sound, the feeling, even the scent of sex and anger and leather in the air all wrapped around him then and Vlad shuddered, biting his lip and groaning as he finally found his release, taking a secondary pleasure in spilling into Malik, leaving himself inside so Malik would feel him after. Stumbling backwards away from the table and the vampire on it, Vlad felt realisation slam into him. Wiping the blood from his mouth, moving to fasten his jeans and already feeling desperate for a shower, he hunted out his shirt and jacket and pulled them on. Malik took longer to move, shuffling forwards to pull his own bottoms back on and stepping back into his boots. "You owe me a new shirt." "Don't talk to me!" Malik winced slightly as he stood up, but that was all the vulnerability he showed. "Don't get freaking out on me now, bit late after the fact. Brother." "I'm not the one who came getting fucked by the little brother they are supposed to want to dust, so if anyone should be freaking out, it's you!" Shaking his head, Vlad took one last longing look at Malik before grabbing a couple of bottles mindlessly and hurtling out of the cellar. Falling back into his coffin after locking his door, Vlad cursed himself for falling victim to such a cliche bad boy crush. Especially on Malik.
-YD-
Two points - This has another chapter in Maliks POV to come, and poetic license here aside blood doesn't make good lube! Otherwise, enjoy!