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“Doctor Whitaker?”
Rain hammered against the window, the bathroom twice as dark as it usually was on account of the gloomy skies occupying the natural lighting. The lights above hum audibly, Dennis’s sensitive ears shot and tired. The sound of Robby’s breathing is just as loud, almost deafening as Dennis looks up through wet lashes to meet his superiors eyes.
Those dull, humming lights reflected in the mess that painted Dennis’s face, stark against the paleness of his unmarred skin, dripping filthily from his chin like drool. Except it wasn’t drool. The mess dripping from his mouth and hands was far from it, actually. It was a sight that had Robby’s stomach turning and his mind running a thousand miles a minute, whilst similarly being about as empty as it had been in a while. Two empty bags lay at his feet, shrivelled and curled like a juice pouch sucked dry in the summer sun.
Impossibly big eyes grew wider, sharp teeth retracting into something more…more human. The bag that had been clasped in his hand fell to the floor with a wet thud. Dennis shook his head, “I-It’s not what it looks like.” He insisted, voice just about as unsure as he looked. Wobbly and broken.
Not what it looks like.
Robby isn’t at all sure that he’s ever seen anything like this before. He’s been alive a long fucking time, seen his fair share of freaks. Yeah, no, he’s never seen anything like this before. Not at all. He has no clue what to do. Perhaps, had it been anyone else, Robby would’ve stumbled out of the bathroom and called the police. Security at the very least. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Dennis Whitaker. His star student. The one that he thought of when he most certainly should not, hand slinking down his pyjama pants in the loneliness of his large, empty bed. The one that made guilty pleasure eat at the soft lining of his gut. So, better judgement pushed aside, Robby moved to lock the main door of the bathroom.
“Robby-” Dennis pleaded, stepping on shaky feet out of the cubicle, almost slipping on the blood underneath his beaten sneakers. God, he needed new shoes. When he saw that the man was simply locking the door, Dennis felt his shoulders drop and the thrumming in his veins calm. “I’m sorry. Please, please don’t tell anyone about this. It’s not…I swear-”
“Stop.” Robby shook his head with a small sigh, holding his hand out to the younger man, palm facing. “Just…be quiet. Come and wash your hands.”
For a moment, Dennis hesitated, fearful that this was some kind of trick. That Robby would pull him close and drive some hidden steak into his heart. That he would…he would just do something. But, no, Robby just nodded at the sink and waited for the younger (older?) man to follow his instructions. Still hesitant, Dennis stepped towards the sink as Robby turned the taps on. He lathered his hands with soap, the bubbles a milky pink before they mixed with the water, a shade akin to strawberry lemonade. It had been a long time since Dennis had eaten anything ‘normal’...God, he’d kill for a cheese burger or…
The older man’s hand came to Dennis’s face, wet paper towels clutched in his hands. Before Dennis could really stop him, Robby was gently wiping the blood that covered the lower half of his face. His motions were gentle and light, affording Dennis the a special type of kindness he had lived at least half a century without. Sure, Dennis had found himself in the throes of pleasure with handsome strangers and human blood bags, but he never found himself being gentle with them. A hand caressing his cool skin, lips gently ghosting the juncture of his neck, eyes roaming and filled with seas of emotion so intense one might just drown in them. He couldn’t remember the last time he had experienced such things, besides now, in the bathroom of his work place. Dennis’s eyes fluttered shut, a deep breath pulling through his nose, the scent of Robby filling his senses, settling on his tongue. He smelled so good. So warm, so heady and delicious. He’d always thought Robby smelt particularly delicious, always grabbing at Dennis, wafting his scent, touching him with red hot hands.
Now, Robby was teasing.
Even if he didn’t know it.
Whitaker swallowed thickly, his gums tingling, jaw aching from how hard it was clenched. His fangs had emerged, poking at the inside of his mouth uncomfortably, desperate to sink into something warm and living. It had been so long since Dennis had had something warm. Something living and squirming. It had been a while since he’d properly fed in general - being unhoused didn’t exactly mean he had a great supply of food at any given time. He didn’t like feeding from animals, even when he was desperate. He was desperate now, and Robby smelt so wonderful. His mouth fell open, sharp teeth glinting in the low light of the bathroom.
Before Robby could pull his hand away, Dennis’s head moved, teeth striking him harshly. He pulled back when his brain caught up, sharp teeth nicking him enough to draw blood. To paint Dennis’s lips. The bloom on his tongue when he licked his lips. The taste of warm blood on his tongue seemed to snap Dennis back to reality, a look of abject horror flashing across his face, eyes widening as he stumbled away from the older man.
“I-”
“Dennis…” Robby held his wrist, pressing a paper towel over the small wound. He took a small step, only for Dennis to frantically reach for the door. He tugged it harshly, whimpering when he realised that it was locked. Dennis turned the lock and rushed out of the room, leaving Robby to clean up the mess that he had left behind.
–
If Dennis wasn’t on edge before, he most certainly was now, for a whole other reason. Before, it had simply been hunger pains, his tummy aching from just how starving he truly was. It had been a long ime since he fed decently, and he refused to allow himself to feed from Trinity, even when she offered. Not a chance, friends aren’t food. Dennis might technically be dead, but he still had morals to uphold.
Now, he was on edge because Robby knew. There was no way in hell that Robby didn’t know, not after the whole…scene in the bathroom. And if Robby knew, who knew who else he might tell. Jack? Or maybe he’d already gone to Gloria, or told everyone else on their team? Dennis had gone so long without anyone knowing. Without anyone questioning the slight point in his ears and the paleness of his skin. Everyone just assumed he was a very sickly looking dude, Trinity certainly had until Dennis had been forced to come clean when she had found him in the abandoned hospital wing. She knew how to keep secrets, though. She kept Dennis’s, Dennis kept hers. Could Robby keep secrets? Was he a reliable man? Did he…Did he care about creatures like Dennis? Was he one of those people that hunted things like Dennis for sport? Dennis didn’t know. Robby was so goddamn closed off all the time, he had no idea what the man was like outside of the hospital.
Usually, every little passing look or touch fromRobby left Dennis feeling all flustered and warm inside. The kinds of looks that Dennis would go home and think about for days. The kind of looks that had people betting on WHEN Robby and Dennis would just get together. Now, though, whenever those dark eyes raked over him, Dennis felt a shiver run down his spine. He tried to keep himself away from Robby. Tried to take smaller cases opposed to major traumas. Scurried off in the other direction when he saw Robby coming his way. If he wasn’t around Robby…he couldn’t worry, right? God, he wished. He most certainly could. His stomach was in knots and he felt himself starting to get all sweaty, skin clammy and cold as he whisked around the ER like a goddamn headless chicken. Maybe he should go home? Lie to Dana about some kind of illness. Fake cry. Fake an emergency.
But what if Robby used that as a chance to report him? What if Robby told everyone whilst he was gone? What if Robby followed him and called him out on his bullshit?
God, he needed a fucking therapist or…or something.
He needed to calm down.
Maybe go smoke.
Maybe go to the roof for a little.
Maybe-
“Okay, team.” Robby called out, motioning for everyone to join him in an empty trauma room. Obediently, everyone that was free, made their way into the room to listen to whatever Robby had to say. A motivational speech, maybe? God, Dennis hoped so. James closed the door behind him, and Robby nodded gratefully. “I just wanted to talk to you guys about a worrying increase in the cases of…a certain illness.”
Oh God.
Trinity snuck a sneaky look at her roommate.
No, fuck.
Dennis swallowed.
Robby scratched at his beard, picking his next words with care. “I’m sure some of you have noticed the uprise in patients coming in with certain symptoms, ones that some of us aren’t too familiar with yet. Has anyone here heard of Consumption?”
“TB?” James questioned, brows pinched.
“No, not quite. Fevers, aching teeth, food aversion, behavioral changes and violent tendencies. Appearance changes, if the illness progresses far enough. Though, many that fall victim to Consumption don’t make it past the first 48-hours of infection.”
Curious, Javadi pipes up, “So it’s infections? Transmittable?”
Stop asking questions.
Robby tilted his head, not quite a nod and not quite a shake. “It’s transmitted similarly to rabies. A bite from someone infected with the disease isn’t exactly fatal, unless they were to drain you of your blood. If you were to survive that, then the symptoms of Consumption would begin to set in almost immediately. Patients that are brought to us are made comfortable, restrained and sedated until th-”
“That’s horrible,” McKay shakes her head, arms crossed.
“They’re lost causes, it only makes sense, right? What happens if they don’t die?” James speaks again, and Dennis has the intense urge to slam his own head into a wall. A few people around them groaned, always surprised by the students' wonderful bedside manner.
“What happens is they turn into the people that infect. They walk amongst us every day, store clerks, dentists, cooks. Any of these creatures that are found in any kind of medical setting are to be…dealt with swiftly. They cannot be trusted around normal, healthy people. If you suspect anyone, patient or staff, you come to me.”
Oh, Dennis Whitaker was so fucked.
He was more fucked than he had been on the night he was turned all those decades ago. Left to bleed out in the field behind his house, beaten and bruised not just from the creature that had attacked him, right on the brink of death before the metallic, disgusting taste of blood bloomed on his tongue. A cold wrist pressed to his lips. The anguish that had followed had been otherworldly, pain like no other. When he had explained the story to Trinity, he struggled to put it into words just how painful the whole ordeal had been. It was something that still gave him nightmares to this day.
Now, he had something else to give him nightmares too.
At the end of his anxiety inducing speech, Robby’s gaze flitted to Dennis for just a second. Was it a warning? Was Dennis going to be…dealt with before the end of his shift? He was a very good doctor, there was no reason for Robby to do this to him. He dispersed with the rest of the crowd before he could vomit onto his own shoes, head spinning as he made his way back to a patient.
Only a few more hours, he could do it. He had to.
–
As the hours ticked on, the anxiety bubbling inside Dennis only got worse and worse. God, he could feel the blood he had gorged himself on sloshing around in his stomach with every movement, acidity clawing its way up his throat, settling sour on his tongue. He felt both stiff and loose at the same time, his skin all sorts of clammy as he whisked around the ED. At one point, a patient came in with a high fever and an aching body, and Dennis truly thought him and this stranger were completely done for. Nope, just an infected wound upon closer inspection. But he had hesitated, panicked, so on edge that he had passed the very simple case onto someone else.
When their shifts began drawing to an end, Dennis’s anxiety peaked. He couldn’t let Robby go home without…without doing something. Anything. He wouldn’t be able to rest without talking to him. A small part of him even believed he might just die all over again if he let Robby walk out of those doors at the end of the day. As the day staff began filtering out, and the night staff arrived, Dennis took his chance. It was quiet, and Robby seemed free enough.
He’d been through worse. He could talk to his boss.
“Dotor Robby…” Okay, maybe he couldn’t do it, based on how shaky his voice sounded. How unsure and unfit he sounded. Get it together, Whitaker. He swallowed thickly when the man spun to look at him, peering at Dennis over the rim of his glasses. “A moment.”
He walked off before Robby could reply, able to hear the man’s footsteps trudging after him. His stomach twisted painfully. He couldn’t be sick, not now, not where everyone could see him.
“Whitaker-” Robby’s brows creased together as he followed Dennis down the hall, towards an empty room. The boy disappeared inside, and Robby had no other option but to follow. Though, as his body tumbled to the floor and the door almost flew shut, he regretted allowing his curiosity - amongst other things - get the better of him. His body fell against the hospital bed, eyes snapping between Dennis’s worried face and the blind on the door dropping. The only way anyone would be able to see inside was if they opened the door.
His eyes landed on the creature's face again, images from the bathroom flashing in his mind. How oddly beautiful Dennis had looked with blood painting his face and hands. How lost in it he had looked. The feeling of Dennis’s sharp teeth grazing his skin. His wrist throbbed at the memory, and something below the belt wrongfully stirred.
“D-Dr Robby…” Dennis began, taking a step closer. Outside, the rain only continued to pour, thunder and lightning rippling through the sky. Robby swallowed hard. Was he going to die like this? Was he going to become one of…them? Why wasn’t he absolutely terrified? “I-I’m so sorry for what happened in the bathroom earlier…”
Robby opened his mouth, but only hot pants came out. As Dennis continued to speak, he crouched down onto the floor, getting himself level with Robby. “I don’t get to eat very often…The blood bags made me ravenous,” his voice was softer now, almost sultry as he shifted onto his knees, hand placed between them. The taste of the older man’s blood remained fresh in his mind, fangs aching, stomach twisting no longer in anxiety…but in hunger. “And then…you walked in.”
The younger man’s eyes traced Robby’s body in a way that made him tremble slightly. He shifted in an attempt to move away, quickly realising that he was very much pinned against the bed, and his only form of escape would require getting past Dennis. A pathetic whine slipped past his open lips, Dennis’s eyes meeting his own.
“You won’t tell anyone, right?” Dennis tilted his head as he crawled closer and closer to the man, working his way between the man's spread open thighs, a hand coming to rest on the man’s hip. “Throw the word Consumption around in a hospital…People start to panic.”
Once again, Robby’s mouth simply fell open, like a fish out of water. Dennis was so close, close enough for the older man to smell him…the scent of amber, blood orange and dried flowers…something earthy and wrong. A scent that Robby couldn’t get enough of, that he ached to smell every shift. He had dreamt of situations like what was unfolding in the empty room they occupied, and the guilt was all consuming. He could stop it. He had the power to. Even with his abilities, Robby was bigger and stronger. He could shove Dennis aside.
But, he didn’t.
He allowed the boy to come closer. Allowed his hand to move. Allowed him to keep talking.
A beautifully pale hand settled over his crotch, groping at the bulge Robby hadn’t realised was there. When the fuck had he gotten a semi? His eyes darted between Dennis and the hand groping at his twitching cock, brows pinched together as arousal and fear melted into a beautifully confused expression. Glasses perched right on the tip of his nose, peering through his dark lashes at the alluring creature that only seemed to be getting closer and closer to him. Those sharp teeth and pointed ears.
“And…” Dennis began, looking down his nose at the older man as he moved his hand, slowly palming at the growing bulge in his boss's pants. “I’m only a student, Dr Robby~”
Dennis’s fingers brushed the thick, dark hair on Robby’s soft tummy before he palmed him again. His hands were smaller than Robby’s, but firm, his touch knowing. For the briefest of moments, Robby wondered just how many people Dennis had touched like this in his lifetime. How many times had the boy used his sexuality to get out of sticky situations? Just how old was Dennis?
“Fuck~” Robby heard himself moan, his eyes fluttering back into his head for a moment as his cock twitched in the other man’s grip. His relenting, wonderful grip. Robby wanted to roll his hips into the touch, to clumsily undo his own belt and zip. But, he wanted to see where this would go. How far would Dennis push…whatever this was.
His eyes drifted down to Dennis’s hand again, watching. “You wouldn’t want to ruin my career…would you?” That sultry voice invaded Robby’s ears once again, setting him right on edge. His eyes continued to drift, all the way to the Student ID clipped to Whitaker’s scrubs. White hot guilt licked at Robby’s insides, heart rabbiting twice as fast in his chest. He needed to say something. Anything. He needed to stop laying there like a pathetic prey animal.
But Robby has always been a weak man, especially for pretty little things like Dennis. He couldn’t stop him. He didn’t want to. Especially not when Dennis was reaching for his belt, working it undone with just one hand, undoing the button on his pants, then the zip. Oh, God. He had no backbone whatsoever. A sharp, broken gasp fell from his lips when Dennis’s hand slipped into his underwear, his skin cool and powdery soft. This time, Robby couldn’t help but rock his hips upwards, seeking out more of the man’s touch.
“Robby…” A pathetically planned whine left Dennis’s lips, brows pinching together in a pleading expression. “I-I’m just so…hungry.”
Innocently predatory, Dennis leant forward until his soft lips were brushing the older man’s jaw, another little whine slipping from his lips. He took a nice deep breath, breathing in the scent of Robby’s skin, the scent of his blood and being on the edge of his natural musk. Roby smelt so alive, so warm and delicious, how could Dennis not be starving? He could feel Robby’s pulse as his lips brushed the older man’s warm neck, tongue itching to dart out, teeth aching to sink into his flesh.
“Let me feed from you,”
“Fuck~” Robby whispered, tilting his head as Dennis’s hand wrapped around his thick, leaking cock. “Whitaker- wait…ah, god…” He whined pathetically, never once attempting to push the vampire away as he made his advances.
Sharp teeth grazed his flesh.
His cock twitched.
Dennis pulled back slowly, just enough to peer up at the man with big, pleading eyes. Robby was falling right into the creature's trap. Images of Consumption patients flashed in his mind. Their agonised screams. Their frenzied screaming. How much they suffered and just how quickly they died without interventions the hospital weren’t allowed or equipped to supply. Robby couldn’t help imagine himself in those situations, and he found himself feeling certain that…it would all be worth it.
“Just this once…”
The older man couldn’t help but meet Dennis’s gaze, staring into his reddened pupils through his heavy lashes. The word no sat heavy on his tongue, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to set it free. He couldn’t find it in himself to disappoint Dennis. He was selfish, desperate to know how those sharp teeth might feel sinking into the delicate junctor of his neck. Selfish and greedy, Robby nodded his head.
“J-Just this once…” He repeated back to the vampire, his words shaky and dripping with need. Without another word, Robby tilted his head in one final act of submission, offering himself to the younger man with a soft whine.
Unable to hold himself back anymore, Dennis took what he had been longing for, sinking his teeth into Robby’s neck with a soft moan, his hand working up and down the older man’s cock firmly. Warm, wonderful blood bloomed on his tongue, sliding easily down his throat as Dennis swallowed greedily. Pleasant heat not only filled Dennis’s stomach, but flooded down between his legs, a searing, deep heat starting to bloom with every gush of blood that painted his tongue. Underneath him, Robby shifted, pulling his trousers and underwear down enough to fully expose his cock, as if the position they were in wasn’t already compromising enough.
Breathless and drunken, Dennis pulled back from his personal blood bag, lips reddened and swollen. His hazy eyes remained on Robby as he leant down slightly, drool gathering in his mouth obscenely. Without any shame or hesitation, Dennis spat down over Robby’s cock, pink and red coating the man’s cock. Never before had Robby even thought to entertain…whatever fetish this could be, but he instantly knew that he would need to experience it again. That he would be craving it forever. His own blood, melding with Dennis’s drool, coating his leaky cock in a bloody sheen. Robby watched in a confusing mix of arousal and fear as Dennis’s hand worked up and down his cock, thumb rubbing at his piss slit, making Robby tremble, his stomach twisting.
No. He wasn’t going to come. Not now. Not yet. Certainly not because Dennis had filthily covered his cock in bloody drool.
Oh, no, fuck…he was.
For the first time since he’d tumbled to the floor, Robby’s hand moved. It tangled itself in Dennis’s curls, guiding the creature's face back into the warm crook of his neck. The intoxicating sharpness of Dennis’s fangs sinking into his flesh went straight to his cock, twitching in Dennis’s intense grip. Each fast, firm stroke made a lewd wet sound that only added to Robby’s building shame and arousal. The coil deep inside of him was tightening and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last. It was so intense that he could feel his asshole fluttering, toes curling inside his shoes as almost humiliating noises tumbled from his lips. His breaths came out shakily, stealing greedy inhales of air, able to smell the earthy arousal coming off of Dennis. He wished desperately that he had it in him to fuck Dennis, but he simply couldn’t pull away from the pleasure already throbbing between his legs. Though, it didn’t stop him from picturing it, the image of him folding Dennis in half and fucking him against the cold tile flooring rotating in his mind as the hand on his cock sped up. How Dennis would moan for him. How he would feel around him.
“You’ve got a filthy mind Doctor Robby,” Dennis whispered against the weeping wound, cool tongue dragging over the broken skin slowly with a soft moan.
The man’s breath hitched, precome dribbling down his bloodied shaft slowly. “You can..?” he choked out around a moan, eyes rolling back into his head when Dennis’s thumb pressed against his piss slit once again. He was wound so tight, sweat collecting on his brow.
“There’s a lot I can do,” He whispered back, tongue licking the shell of Robby’s ear. “I know you want to come…come for me.”
Really, Robby didn’t need to be told once, let alone twice. His hips twitched and his cock throbbed, that horribly wonderful feeling in his stomach growing more and more intense with each stroke and twist of Dennis’s talented hand. The hand that was in Dennis’s curls tightened as he yanked Dennis into a searing, bruising kiss as his orgasm slammed into him and his whole body went stiff. He tasted his own blood on Dennis’s tongue and that experience only added to the pleasure thrumming through him, tongue slipping into his students mouth. Rope after rope of come shot from his painfully hard cock, drooling down to coat Dennis’s hand and his own cock, some of the mess even painting his exposed stomach and shirt.
Fuck.
Robby had not just had one of the best orgasms of his life courtesy of his best student. His best student, who was a vampire. His best student, who was a vampire and had just fed from him.
The older man scrubbed a hand over his face with a breathless, fucked out groan.
Holy shit.
What had he done?