Chapter Text
Xander didn’t like parties; he never understood the fun to be had in back-handed niceties and standing around in fancy dress, not until he was here - drunk on bubbly champagne and Anthony’s Presence. Currently the party (some gussy auction that he wasn’t paying attention to) had run long into the night. The auction was taking place in Benaroya Hall with its fancy ceilings and air of gilded age affluence that seemed the perfect place for any Ventrue to sell off whatever they wished. Anthony certainly looked the part, with his corseted vest and leather clad fingers absentmindedly toying with the ghoul’s hair, solely focused on the numbers the auctioneer was rattling off.
Xander hardly remembered how he got there in the first place, curled on a fainting couch with his head resting on his Domitor’s thigh, only those Damned fingers guiding him into this position. Anthony’s grip on his hair tightened suddenly, the only indicator of things not going his way as applause filtered through the anemic haze. A gasp escaped Xander, more of surprise than pain as nerves zinged with edged pleasure. He couldn’t see the expression that the Kindred made, but his accented chuckle was unmistakable in the isolated bubble of the box as Anthony smoothed over the pulled hair in fake apology, winding an inky curl around his index finger. Xander shifted slightly to be closer to his Domitor, turning to be able to look at the expression on his boss’s face. Full mouth canted slightly in amusement, blue eyes glittering as he looked at his ghoul, no longer enthralled in profit margins and business. He had his full and complete attention, and the younger was too enthralled with that fact to react, frozen in the gaze of the predator.
It seemed like moments, it seemed like hours, like seconds, like eternity. He watched the blond, breath caught somewhere between his gut and his teeth, Anthony wasn’t breathing - wasn’t blinking - seemingly content to watch his ghoul melt. Melting, that's what this felt like, the world falling away around him, if it were not for the vampire’s cool solidness of unlife he would melt away as well. Xander looked away, unable to handle the intensity as the world spun in all the wrong ways.
He was not going to get sick. No he was not. He whimpered, a hand coming to rest on his bare stomach before being pinned to the couch once more. (He had sworn he had worn an undershirt.) Iron coated his mouth, his lips, Anthony was still playing with his hair, this time pulling it this way and that as he kept the ghoul’s mouth open with lips and teeth. Xander choked and sputtered as the blond pierced his tongue on a fang again, more warmth weeping down his throat. The world ended as Anthony drank. Predator's hands roamed freely as he swallowed up vitae, his prey had given up, limp and choking on moans and blood both. Gloved hands slid halfway into the ghoul’s slacks, messily coaxing buttons to unfasten and zippers to cooperate. Anthony was just as drunk as Xander when he pulled away, cords of ruby stained saliva painting lines on the blond’s dress shirt contrasting to the dilated black eyes that stared unblinkingly into his soul. The world was still melting, this time in slow motion.
Xander pulled him back down by the bones of his corset, uncaring of the pop and tear of steel giving out when Anthony’s inhale of surprise was so much more interesting. He could taste his blood in his lover’s mouth, mixing with the bloody spit of Kindred. He could taste hints of Anthony, the sticky burnt sugar of bootlegged liqueur edged with something akin to freedom, he could taste them together - a swirl of sweet and iron. He gripped the seam of the corset with both hands, growing impatient as he felt his body heat with strength a bit too powerful to be mortal. The corset was no longer an issue, cloth tossed to the side of the box. Anthony was laughing, Xander felt it in the other’s chest and heard it in between bloody kisses. Xander gripped his Domitor’s hair, riding the egotistical high of a sample of Kindred vitae, pulling him back to see his lover debauched. Anthony’s shirt was ripped open a few inches, white stained red. Syrupy ruby stained the lower half of his face like a mask, centering around his mouth - half open with his tongue dragging across his lower lip - his blue eyes overblown with the pleasure of vitae as well as the champagne that Xander had drunk. He was straddling one of his ghoul’s legs, gloved hands now hanging limply at his sides since they could no longer be tangled in the taller’s curls. Even with his eyes dilated to blue slivers, Xander could see the intelligence and calculation under the lust and drink. That frustrated the ghoul in the best ways as he saw a challenge in the making. He would make Anthony as desperate for him as he was for him, no matter how long that took.
Another liqueur flavored kiss as the ghoul leaned up to his Domitor, taking his boss’s hands to peel away the black leather of his gloves, forcing the Kindred to feel the tackiness of drying blood on his bare chest. Anthony played along, obediently running his now bloodstained hands along Xander’s sides, squeezing his feminine waist with force enough to leave red marks on his mole speckled skin. Xander’s response was to snarl, giving up his task of unbuttoning his boss’s shirt to simply rip the fabric open, fingers crawling to trace familiar scars on his lover’s torso. Even blind he would be able to recognize him, even if he could no longer touch him, the shaky breath in his ear could only be Anthony willing himself to the semblance of Humanity. The scars warmed under his hands and Xander lunged to lap up the last of the Vitae in his Domitor’s mouth before it was replaced with clear, mortal, saliva.
With more force than entirely necessary, Anthony took back control, pushing his ghoul down with surprisingly ease and a slightly raised eyebrow. He slid up further, straddling Xander’s waist and pinning his hands to his sides. His now messy hair was almost falling into his eyes, eyes which burned with silent promises and threats in equal measure. Xander watched, utterly transfixed as the other’s hands - now gloved in drying blood - trailed down his own chest, leaving behind smudges of maroon as he reached his belt with painful slowness, making a show of unbuckling and pulling the leather through the loops of his trousers. He leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to Xander’s forehead, making the ghoul’s blood both boil and freeze in desire, breaths coming out in short pants rather than smooth sighs.
“You think you can drink from me that easily? By kissin’ me just right?” Anthony’s voice made him shiver, useless hands clenching under Domitor's weight. He opened his mouth to answer but no sound came out except a gasp dripping with need. Anthony chuckled, eyes cut crystal - betraying nothing.
“If you want it, just ask. It’s the blood you want, yeah?” Xander didn’t know anymore, but if Anthony didn’t do something to him in the next thirty seconds he was surely going to die right here on this blood-stained couch. He parted his lips to state as much when Anthony lifted his wrist to his mouth and dragged a pearled fang across his skin, welling a line of crimson. Xander thought he might have finished right there, until Anthony shoved the cut into Xander’s open mouth, and then he finished. He could taste bootlegged alcohol, freedom, and then nothing at all. He couldn’t tell what he was doing, only that he was moving, bucking his hips and thrashing at the sensation of it all boiling over. He felt dampness around his face as he wept, tears of ecstasy dribbling into his hair. He thought he might have screamed, or maybe it was just his ears filling with sensation at the rush that his Domitor had gifted him. There was no pleasure this good, surely. This was it.
Then Anthony bit him, keeping his wrist in his ghoul’s mouth. Xander was lost, truly there was nothing left for him in this world, nothing except for Anthony’s blood in his veins and Anthony’s teeth in his neck. Somewhere far away Xander felt the blond shudder against him. This was forever, this was eternity, this was all that he could ask for and all he ever wanted. He didn’t know when it was over, he didn’t know when this had all begun in the first place. Was there a place? Was there a time?
“-id. Xander. Wake up.” His boss’s voice pulled him out of his reverie. He was laying across a fainting couch, head laying on the older’s thighs. He slowly blinked up at his Domitor, groaning softly at the lights of the venue.
“The event’s over, come on now. ” Anthony bounced his leg to encourage the groggy ghoul up. Anthony looked pristine as ever, down to the corseted vest that hugged his waistline. Xander likewise was dressed immaculately, slacks and unbuttoned silk shirt, revealing creamy skin. Hadn’t they…? Xander flushed red as he tried to piece together shattered memories while he stood, glancing bewildered at the box that Anthony had demanded when they arrived. His boss’s cerulean gaze caught his, and he raised an eyebrow in expectation. Xander mumbled an apology as he brushed past Anthony. The gloved hand that pressed against the small of his back made him stiffen and pause long enough for his Domitor to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.
“If you fuck up another one of my vests, you’re not gunna remember wrecking it.” Anthony’s voice was in his ear, whispering quiet threats. Xander nodded, weak in the knees as his boss led him to the carport.