Chapter Text
Andrew was thirsty, so thirsty.
He was consumed by nothing but the need to drink, the urge to fight. It wasn’t exactly what he had expected from death. His whole life, he’d seen the end as darkness, an empty void with nothing and nobody. Instead, it felt like he was drawing in an ocean of blood, thick, red, and clinging to his skin.
No matter how hard he struggled, the plasma wouldn’t let him go. It wrapped its tentacles around him and held on tight. The more he fought, the quicker he found himself sinking. Like quicksand, the red abyss consumed him till only his face was above the swamp. It forced its way into his mouth, and consumed his every breath, until finally wrapping its tendrils around his ankles and dragging him underneath.
It was the worst pain Andrew had ever felt in his whole life, the feeling of knives tearing his insides apart.
“Andrew?” Neil called.
Neil.
Neil, the vampire that lived his life under a dictator’s thumb. Neil, the martyr that threw himself at the devil so Andrew could live. Neil, the pipedream that kept his promise, even as the world began to crumble.
Andrew sat up with a shot, gasping for air. Hands flew across his body, checking for wounds and expecting to feel his insides. Instead, he watched in horror as his wounds closed before his eyes, skin sewing itself back together.
Was this a nightmare? Was he dead?
Red consumed him, invading his vision and dominating his every sense. He could hear the thumping of hearts in his ears, taste the iron on his tongue, feel the way his jaw ached and throbbed.
His movements were instinctual. He grabbed the person hovering above him and slammed them into the wall by the neck. Brick and plaster crumbled as Andrew recoiled back in shock at his own strength.
“Andrew.”
Neil.
Neil. Neil. Neil.
Andrew clung to the sound of Neil’s voice. He used it to ground himself, to bring his awareness back, and even his breathing.
“Neil?” he croaked. “Am I dead?”
When had his voice sounded so broken?
Neil smiled sadly at him from the wall, his back covered in dust and plaster. He held out a tentative hand that Andrew grasped onto like a lifeline. He used the sensation of Neil’s touch like an anchor, keeping him from drifting out to sea.
“I’m sorry, Andrew. I really am,” Neil whispered. “I understand if you never want to see me again, but at least let me help. One more time.”
The vampire bit his own wrist and let his blood flow, drip by drip landing on the floor. It was then that Andrew understood what had happened. His eyes grew wide, his gaze fixated on every wasted crimson drop rolling down Neil’s arm. He wanted it so badly that it hurt. Every muscle twitched to sink in his teeth, drinking and drinking until he felt satisfied.
“Neil–” Andrew gasped, physically restraining himself from moving forward.
“Drink, Andrew,” Neil encouraged.
No sooner had the words been spoken did Andrew sink in his teeth. He dug them into Neil’s wrist, sucking his delicious blood into his mouth. It was the best thing he had ever tasted in his entire life, sweeter than sugar, more addicting than a tub of triple chocolate, millionaire shortbread ice cream. It quenched his hunger like nothing else could.
Neil did nothing but stroke his hair, fingers tangling in matted blond locks. He whispered encouraging words and held Andrew with the greatest level of respect. Somehow, he had become Andrew’s lifeline. Whether as a human or a vampire, Andrew knew he would be content with Neil by his side. He wouldn’t give him up.
It would take some getting used to.
The Foxhole Pub was still just as much of a shithole as it had been when Andrew was human. Maybe, it was even worse.
Even so, something about it still felt like home. Perhaps it was the way Neil stood behind him nervously, hand clenched on the back of his shirt, or maybe it was the children sitting laughing at the tables with huge grins, drinking soda.
The pub was stuffed to the brim with people chattering away. It was overstimulating, especially as Andrew was still getting used to his heightened senses. He could hear every heart thumping, every breath, every rush of blood through fragile veins.
Although the pair had tried to enter as quietly as possible, it didn’t stop hundreds of heads from turning to look his way as the door slammed behind them. One girl waved at Andrew with a smile.
“Andrew,” Wymack greeted.
His face was solemn as he took in Andrew’s new red-coloured eyes.
“Wymack,” Andrew replied. “Can we talk upstairs?”
Wymack didn’t hesitate to get moving, passing his drink to a nearby Renee. She didn’t say a word, simply grinned at Andrew and raised an eyebrow at Neil. He’d have to thank her for saving them at some point, but not now.
He acknowledged her with a subtle tip of his head before following Wymack up the rickety staircase toward his office. Neil continued to cling to Andrew as if they were connected, practically breathing down the back of his neck. For some reason, Andrew didn’t seem to mind. It was almost comforting to know Neil was watching his back.
Wymack’s office was even worse than the last time he’d visited. There wasn’t a single place unoccupied with papers. They were pinned on the wall, scattered across the floor. A shattered coffee mug sat on one side of the room, a brown stain soaked deep into the wood.
“Did you sleep okay?” Wymack asked, picking up paper as he went.
“Don’t really need to sleep anymore, old man,” Andrew replied, pulling himself onto Wymack’s desk. He swung his legs back and forth, kicking them against the wood.
In comparison, Neil stood still like a wax figure. He was watching Wymack’s every movement as if he was about to swing a punch. It was funny to think that a pureblood vampire as powerful as Neil would be scared of a grumpy, old man like Wymack. Trauma had interesting effects.
“Right.” Wymack sighed.
“I’m sorry,” Neil croaked, playing with his sleeves.
Wymack spun on his heels to face Neil, dropping the paper he had been holding. “You saved that idiot's life. Does it look like I’m mad?”
Neil flinched and stepped closer to Andrew as if trying to put a barrier between them.
“Neil. Look at me,” Wymack said. “Right now.”
The vampire was terrified, but he obeyed. The way he snapped to attention made Andrew feel a little sick. In his opinion, Nathan Wesninski had gotten off far too easily.
"I want you to understand something," Wymack continued, voice softening. "I am a loud, grouchy old man. I like to yell and throw things. But I don't throw punches unless some punk is dumb enough to try me first. I have never, ever hit someone without provocation, and I'm sure as hell not going to start with you. You hear me?”
Neil didn’t answer for a while. He studied Wymack like a maths question as if looking for any hint of a lie. Even if he didn’t trust Wymack, Andrew could tell by his heart alone that he was telling the truth. It didn’t take Neil long to come to the same conclusion.
“Not to mention, you could kill him,” Andrew added. “Easily.”
Somehow the threat brought Neil back to the room. He smiled his stupid idiot smile up at Andrew, finding humour in his declaration. It wasn’t like it was a lie, after all.
“Thank you, Minyard,” Wymack complained. “Truly insightful.”
“You’re welcome.” Andrew grabbed Wymack’s whisky off his desk and took a swig. It wasn’t as good as it used to be. “Now, talk business.”
Wymack muttered expletives under his breath as he slumped into his chair. The folder on his desk was left open enough for Andrew to figure out exactly what was coming.
“Wesninski’s death has left a lot of holes. Higher-ups want as much information from Neil as possible to be able to tear down whatever is left,” Wymack confessed. “What do you say?”
Before Neil could spiral, Andrew clamped a hand onto the back of his neck. He massaged circles into his tight muscles until Neil shivered in response. It wasn’t much, but it worked.
“They were never able to charge my father whilst he was alive. They’re hoping I have enough information to destroy his inner circle for good. I want to give them the truth, as much as I can anyway,” Neil muttered. “I’m just tired of all this.”
Andrew pulled Neil between his legs, guiding his head to rest on his chest. Fingers slid between auburn locks. The scent of Neil was overwhelming, addictive like a drug. It put Andrew into a safe haze to which he felt invincible as if everything he had sacrificed was being finally rewarded.
Neil had saved his life. That much was apparent. Although he hated vampires, the idea of Neil turning him did not disgust him. Even now, the auburn-haired vampire kept his touch liberal. His hands were tucked into his front pockets.
“I’ll let them know and arrange it. It’ll be sooner rather than later,” Wymack responded, scribbling something down.
“Do you want to be there for it?” Neil asked, hesitant.
“I have to be,” Andrew replied, tilting Neil’s chin upwards with his hand. “I don’t trust them to give you back.”
The pair stared at each other like there was no one else in the world. Andrew orbited Neil like he was the sun, igniting his life and making it liveable. Without him, it would be nothing. It would be pointless. Before Neil, Andrew had been living on borrowed time. Now, he was living, period.
“It’s settled then,” Wymack announced.
He slid a piece of paper across the desk towards Neil alongside a pen. From the looks of it, it was an employment contract.
As Andrew’s partner.
“What is this?” Neil asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“A contract,” Andrew answered; Neil rolled his eyes.
“Work for me, Neil,” Wymack pushed. “You’re smart, and you’ve more than proven that you’re capable. In fact, you’re the first person I can actually consider partnering Andrew with.” He tapped the dotted line. “Sign here, and you’ll be mine for five years.”
Looking up at Andrew for answers, Neil found nothing. It wasn’t something Andrew could decide for the idiot, nor would he ever consider forcing someone else to work with him. The job wasn’t easy. It was physically and emotionally taxing, albeit rewarding. However, Andrew couldn’t deny that he would feel safer with Neil watching his back.
“It’s your choice,” Andrew answered.
Neil looked down at his hands as if searching for direction. They were hands that had held Andrew with the utmost care, hands that could be used for good if only Neil was willing to try. They were gentle hands that Andrew trusted more than anybody else's.
“Can I really be Neil?” Neil whispered.
Cupping his idiot’s cheek, Andrew stared down into crimson eyes. He admired the flicker of blue that danced beneath the surface and widened at every word.
“You already are.”
It took Neil a moment, but Andrew saw the second his mind was made up. He took a deep inhale and stepped away, hand grasping the pen. His signature was smooth as he dragged it along the white paper, a sprawl of Neil locking in his fate.
“Healthcare isn’t too bad,” Wymack said, tucking the contract into his file once it was signed. “Insurance is covered by the company. As far as accommodation goes, there are a few options. Until it’s all sorted, you’re welcome to stay–”
“With me,” Andrew interrupted. “He’ll live with me.”
He wasn’t letting the idiot out of his sight. Best of all, it would give his bastard cat another person to torment. His cat with ginger hair and blue eyes - that looked strikingly familiar to a certain vampire.
For fuck's sake.
Andrew was going to bang his head against a brick wall. Lucky for some, he would survive when he inevitably jumped off the roof.
“Won’t argue. One less thing for me to worry about.” Wymack pointed at Andrew and waved his finger. “Don’t kill him.”
“No promises.”
“If he gets too psycho, you better let me know, alright?" Wymack gave up on Andrew, turning to Neil. "I’ll move you out of there.”
Like a theatre kid, Andrew put his hand on his head as if he was about to faint.
“Man of little faith," he complained.
“Thank you," Neil followed. He turned back to Andrew and held out his hand in offering. "But I think we’ll be okay.”
Andrew took a second to analyse how he felt. He thought about his demons, considered his new vampirism, and somehow found his head surprisingly empty. It was filled with one thought and one thought alone: Neil .
Jumping off the desk, Andrew took Neil's hand. The blonde leant in close, enraptured by the pureblood's presence like no other.
"Yes or no?" Andrew whispered.
Neil glanced at Wymack, who was watching with curious eyes, then gave his answer. “Yes."
The kiss was short. It was nothing, only a quick press of lips together, but it was enough. Neil tasted like mint toothpaste, fresh and clean. Andrew wasn't particularly one for public displays of affection. Unfortunately, moving forward meant he needed Wymack to know he had found something that made life worth living again.
“Jesus. Alright. I’m not paid enough for this." Wymack ran his hand over his face.
Neil pulled away and stifled a laugh. He looked up at Andrew’s deadpan face and somehow found something to smile at.
"Fuck off, the both of you,” Wymack grumbled. “Don’t want to see your ugly faces for at least a week.”
“Aye-Aye, Captain." Andrew saluted.
Keeping his hand intertwined with Neil’s, Andrew slipped out the door before Wymack threw something at them. He found the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he turned to face Neil.
“I’m staying." Neil let out a sigh of relief, clutching Andrew tighter. "I'm staying here."
Andrew flicked Neil's forehead. "Idiot."
Pressing another short kiss on Neil's lips, Andrew allowed himself to fall. He let his walls down, let Neil through the crack in the door, and somehow, it felt okay.
It would be okay.
"Home?" Andrew asked.
Neil turned to face Andrew with the brightest pair of practically sparkling doe eyes.
"Home," he replied.
Home had never meant something to either of them before. It was a place of empty promises, pain, and abuse. It was a place to escape from, not to return. Home sounded like a dream; it tasted like damnation.
Perhaps, it was time for things to change. Perhaps, it was time they started letting go of demons who lay six feet deep. Perhaps, it was time to try out this ‘happiness’ thing.
After all, they had all the time in the world to figure it out.