Work Text:
Frederick found settling into his near-daily routine with Orpheus too pleasant for comfort.
Everything about their relationship was just- wrong. Orpheus' enthusiasm when it came to providing the vampire with more blood than necessary was unheard of to the Kreiburg. Altruism clearly was not the novelist's strong suit, yet he was more than eager to put his life on the line to please the vampire, even when it left him too weak to make his appearances at the manor.
Such behavior left Frederick wondering if there truly was some secret aphrodisiac side effect to his bite. Frederick wouldn’t even be surprised if there was something of the like in Orpheus' blood as well. He had never tasted anything so… velvety, flowing smoother and sweeter against his tongue and fangs than the finest wine all of Europe had to offer. There were nights that required every ounce of self control in the vampire to keep from tearing the man's throat out and draining every last drop of blood from his body.
Each night shared between the two felt more intimate than the last, even if it was agreed their meetings were reserved for a quick bite and nothing more. It was obvious Orpheus enjoyed being Frederick's meal far more than he should, and the vampire would be lying if he said he didn’t play into it- toying with the other a bit, but it just wasn’t enough. Frederick craved more from the novelist.
Grey eyes flicked to the grandfather clock, mere minutes stood between him and his meal. The vampire clutched his cane and slipped silently into the halls of Oletus.
Swallowing a smile, Frederick knocked softly against the novelist’s door. Moments passed without an answer, quite unusual from the other. He knocked again, a little louder this time. Still, no answer. The vampire was beginning to lose the little patience he had, for “no reason other than a demanding appetite,” he assured himself. A measly excuse considering he was the most fed he has been in his life.
As an already infamous figure, he couldn’t exactly afford to raise suspicion to his name which forced his meals to be few and far between. His family had ostracized him for both lack of musical talent as well as lack of vampiric strength, so any hopes of joining their gluttonous feeding parties were long forgotten. For the most part, he had lived off rats and other small animals, daring to drain a suitor of no importance on nights when the hunger became unbearable. But now? Thanks to the novelist, he felt stronger than ever; more alive than one would think possible of the undead.
With a scoff, Frederick surrendered his manners and finally tried the door, which swung inwards with little resistance. This immediately arose suspicion, an unlocked door rather uncharacteristic for a man such as Orpheus.
At first glance, the other’s room was as neat as ever. Then something on the novelist’s desk caught Frederick's eye: a shattered frame covered a photograph appearing torn down the middle. He tenderly pulled the image from beneath the glass with a gloved hand to reveal what seemed to be a family photo- or at least half of one. The manor towered behind a family of three: a tired woman and a rough-looking man looked up at him, their arms around a young boy holding hands with someone from the torn part of the photo. Upon closer inspection, the young boy seemed to look quite familiar.
Brows furrowing, the vampire found itself strangely dizzy, his vision blurring as he felt someone cover his face in cloth.
Cool mist clung to Frederick's face and hair as he ran along the Scottish beachside. He called out to the woman standing among the waves, her face to the setting sun and red dress flowing in the sea like a stream of blood. He pushed through the violent surges of water, increasing in intensity as a northern storm blew in. Somehow, the woman seemed further away than before. Reaching out, the Kreiburg lost balance, crashing into the freezing blue waves below.
Sputtering, Frederick awoke with a jerk to find himself bound against an ice-cold metal table. He took in as much of the surrounding room as his restraints allowed him, and soon found he was in some sort of lab. Shelves of notebooks lined the walls, and directly in front of the table stood a large cabinet displaying various beakers and vials. The blinding fluorescents were disorienting to eyes made for the dark, and the strong smell of alcohol stung the vampire's sensitive nose. Something else lingered in the air, a scent warm and familiar- standing out against every uninviting aspect of the room.
Out of the composer's view, a heavy door opened and clicked shut, bringing a new wave of that scent with it. Frederick could hear whoever entered scribble something down, followed by the snap of rubber gloves being applied. Suddenly, a man’s face hidden by a surgical mask leaned over him, eyes smiling down at the vampire. “Mr Kreiburg, thank you for joining us tonight!” The vampire blinked groggily. Questions swarmed within Frederick's mind, interrupted by the other before he could speak. “A few simple preparations before we get started. I do hope you can be patient for me.” He said, producing an alcohol soaked cloth from the desk. Frederick flinched, inhaling through his teeth as the cold cloth brushed against his abdomen. The man tsked and discarded the cloth, replacing it with a black marker and drawing a couple lines along the vampire's pale skin, who finally opened his mouth to speak only to find his mind too scrambled to properly form a sentence. The other huffed, amused, pulling the mask off to whisper in the composer's ear “I only wish to see if you are just as pretty from the inside.”
Frederick's eyes widened, the man was none other than Orpheus - only he wasn’t. He looked like Orpheus, but this man pushed his hair to the back instead of parting it to the left. This man spoke differently, he even held himself differently. “Orpheus…?.” the vampire finally breathed out. Orpheus's smile fell, his eyes dull, “Yes, my dear? I apologize, but after all I have given you, will you not grant me this?” He asked, sliding his gloved hands along the other’s bare torso before tracing his fingertips along the definition of the vampire's ribs. A smile quirked his lips as Frederick shuddered, and he turned away to his desk once more.
The fog that had taken over Frederick's mind had begun to lift. He pulled against his restraints, “What the hell are you trying to do? You offered your blood to me willingly, I owe you nothing” the vampire snarled. Orpheus looked over his shoulder with a pout, “Oh Mr Kreiburg, you cannot blame me for being curious! You fascinate me, I simply wish to understand you. Is that so wrong?” He stated before procuring a scalpel from a box on his desk.
To this, the vampire thrashed against his bindings violently, pupils dilating. Orpheus shushed the other gently, holding Frederick's chin in his hand as he quickly pressed a soft kiss against his lips before bringing the scalpel across the first marking in a slow and deliberate motion. The vampire hissed beneath him, squirming under the blade. Orpheus’ eyes lit up at the crimson blooming across Frederick's abdomen as it was split apart. He set the scalpel down and pulled open the incision to observe the small intestine, finding the organs completely empty yet perfectly healthy. “Oh Frederick, you’re a marvel..” he purred, reaching into the cavity. The other could only respond with a groan.
The vampire was absolutely gorgeous like this, full lashes fluttering as he his eyes squeezed closed and he threw his head back in pain. Orpheus stared in adoration as he slowly pulled and stroked the other’s guts, earning a soft gasp from the vampire. Curiously, he continued the motion, observing as Frederick's face seemed to contort from pain into pleasure. He slid his free hand under the small of Frederick’s back and watched as the man below him gave into the buzz of nerves and need, letting his mind go blank and mindlessly pushing against the restraints for more of Orpheus' touch. Frederick's eyes flew open, “ s-stop” he stammered halfheartedly, simultaneously pushing Orpheus' hand further into himself. He opened his mouth as if to continue voicing his complaints, only to let out a drawn out moan. The clipboard and file sat forgotten on the desk, its doctor too busy watching the vampire lose itself to care about finding anything scientifically significant. The wound was already beginning to heal around Orpheus' hand, which he quickly removed to Frederick's dismay.
The vampire's eyes were teary and glossed over, his hair had come loose from its ribbon and lay in soft curls against the worktable. Frederick chewed his lip, refusing to make eye contact, “I take it you’ve seen enough?” he asked in a small voice. Orpheus laughed softly, "of course not, my dear." Brushing the hair out of Frederick's face, his eyes grazed over the marking on Frederick's trembling chest which caused the vampire to freeze, face stricken with pure terror.
Sure, it may take a lot to 'kill' a vampire, but it was known their hearts were not to be messed with.
The vampire flailed against his bindings once more, but his desperate pleas were lost on the other. Frederick bared his fangs as Orpheus approached, reaching out to touch them only for the vampire to gnash its teeth in an attempt to bite. Orpheus responded by taking a fistfull of the composer’s soft hair and forcing his teeth apart with his other hand. He mused over the vampire's mouth, running his fingers along the sharp fangs and muttering something unintelligible as Frederick’s eyes glared murderously up at him.
Once Orpheus decided he had seen enough, he released the vampire’s jaw from his grip, which had left small smudges of blood against his ivory face. He kept his hold on Frederick’s hair, however, preventing his thrashing from interfering as the scalpel was brought down on soft skin once more. Orpheus cut deeper this time, greedily ignoring the vampire’s sobs as drew near the prize he desired most.
Frederick’s vision swam, tears pricking his eyes again. He was never one to fear death; hell, before he met Orpheus he often found himself longing for it. But now, as he felt the man above him brush a finger against his heart, he could think of nothing other than how he longed to be in Orpheus’ presence forever. Frederick’s body jerked at the slight pressure against the organ, whining as he felt the novelist pull away momentarily. The other repositioned his hand, thumb and forefinger holding the wound open as his middle and ring finger dove deeper- pressing against his fluttering heart. Gasping, Frederick found his mind turning to mush at the contrast between the tender treatment of his heart and the possessive pull of his hair, the unintelligible sweet nothings pouring from Orpheus’ mouth and the blood gushing from his own chest. He dug his nails into his palms. Orpheus reached deeper still.
The vampire’s body was racked with both pain and pleasure. The poor creature couldn’t tell if it was floating or drowning, living or dying as it experienced every sensation all at once. Frederick glanced down with a whimper to see Orpheus almost fully cupping his heart, rubbing small circles against the flesh with his thumb. The novelist murmured in realization suddenly, “my blood runs through your heart…” The vampire moaned at the thought, chasing any friction between himself and the man whose life ran through his veins. His heart was on fire, the warmth permeating his being and intensifying the tremors that shook his limbs. He felt himself hurtling towards something unknown, it was terrifying yet exhilarating.
With a cry, the vampire seized; his body going stiff before melting against the table. Orpheus watched in wonder as Frederick’s face stared up at him, slack-jawed and devoid of any life. His heart had gone still in Orpheus’ hand, who softly released the composer’s hair, tying it in that silk ribbon that held it in place. He gently closed Frederick’s eyes, wiping the blood from his skin and releasing him from his bindings. The novelist returned the velvet red coat to its owner before turning back to his neglected experiment file. He regretted nothing; no research could be more important than the way the composer had melted between his hands. Orpheus found himself scribbling the likeness of Frederick’s peaceful form on the file, wishing to preserve the beauty of this moment for eternity.
Orpheus leaned down to kiss the bloody tears from his lover's eyes, feeling them slowly flutter open. “Thank you for indulging me,” he murmured against Frederick’s lips, breathing life into the other’s lungs before pressing their foreheads together. “Thank you for giving me life,” the other whispered back.