Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“... So we’re fighting in the woods, for hours and hours. It’s a nasty scene, guts everywhere, y’know. Finally I just claw this guy’s face, like this—” Anton ghosted his hands over Viago’s face, “and I sink my teeth into his neck.”

Viago gasped, enthralled. “You killed him?”

“Nah, I ended up turning him. He’s still part of our pack today, really nice guy. But he used to be a dick.“ Anton laughed, taking another swig of his drink.

The vampire smiled, giddy as usual listening to any story that his newest, youngest friend had to offer. Viago never expected to enjoy the company of a werewolf. Certainly not a brash alpha male like Anton. But after Stu’s return, the two groups began to intermingle, and by chance Viago had found some common interests with the pack leader. 

It turned out Anton had been a literature major in university. The two spent hours talking about the artistic movements over the centuries (all of which Viago could recount firsthand). Now they were getting together at least once a week, to watch an old film, or talk about a book they'd just read. They'd become an inseparable pair in no time. He found something… intriguing, about Anton. And from time to time, when his eyes lingered a bit too long on Anton’s dashing features, he felt something like… attraction? He wasn’t quite sure. But it had been centuries since he'd had a non-vampire friend, and Viago was simply delighted to spend time together.

“That reminds me!” Anton’s face lit up again. “There was this other time we got into a turf war with a pack of centaurs. Let’s see, it was, ah…”

Viago was struck with concern when Anton trailed off with a soft groan. He scrunched his face and laid a hand on his middle.

“What is wrong, my friend?” he asked and leaned in.

“Full moon is only a few nights away.” Anton doubled over and winced. “We, um, get insanely hungry around this time. But I’m fine.”

He placed a gentle hand on Anton’s shoulder. Viago’s sensitive ears picked up the rumbling of his belly, and his heart sank at the idea of his dear friend being in pain. What a rotten host he was, not considering that their canine companions may need something to snack on when they visited. “Oh! Why did you not say something?”

"I usually try to ignore it," Anton groaned and attempted to cover it with a laugh. "No sense in trying to fight werewolf hunger when transformation night is so close. Really, I'm used to it."

"Well, perhaps a small snack will help you feel better." Viago opened the fridge and surveyed the contents. It was fairly well-stocked, for a vampire household. It was mostly vials and bags of blood, which were nowhere near as delicious or satisfying as fresh blood, but they were helpful in a pinch. In addition, there was a hefty stockpile of meat: raw chicken, lamb, beef, all sorts of thick bloody cuts of animal flesh. It was mostly for Petyr, as none of the younger vampires had the stomach for it. But for a werewolf, Viago thought, this was perfect.

He pulled out a heavy cut of meat, dripping with red liquid inside its transparent packaging. “Would this be sufficient for your hunger?”

Anton’s eyes glazed over. “Yeah.”

Viago flashed a toothy grin. “Oh, how fun! I haven’t cooked in centuries, but I would be happy to prepare it for you. I have some rosemary and thyme in the cabinets somewh—”

Before he could finish, Anton had snatched it out of his hand and tore open the packaging with his teeth. He stuffed his mouth with the bloody steak, grunting and moaning as he gobbled it down in a few swift bites.

Viago was frozen where he stood.

“Oh, ah. Please help yourself to more?”

Anton didn’t seem to need permission. Huffing, he stood hunched over the fridge, ripping open packages with his teeth and stuffing his maw over and over. Viago was frozen in place, watching as he gorged himself. He had seen Anton change once or twice before, but this was nothing like that. Anton was still human in front of him, but undeniably animal at the same time. He clawed apart the feast with his hands, paying no mind to the blood dripping down his face, onto his heaving chest, down to the dark wood floor. The sound of his eating made something stir in Viago. It was wet and guttural, and almost sexual. He could feel his vampire instincts and his long-dormant libido tingling confusedly under his skin.

It went on so long Viago started to think it would never end. But alas, Anton finally leaned back on his haunches, mouth full of one last bloody chunk.

He looked so... pleased. As Anton steadied his breaths, his lips twitched into a little grin, clearly satisfied. It took a few seconds for him to come back into himself, and once he did, he noticed the vampire’s stare along with the mess on the floor. Viago saw something switch in him, like turning from a wolf into a humble sheep. His cheeks reddened. “Christ, I—I shouldn’t have done that. Sorry if I scared you—”

“I'm not scared,” Viago admitted, eyes sparkling. “That was thrilling.”

Anton’s lip quirked into a smile. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yes. It very much reminds me of how vampires can be.” He helped Anton up and sat him in one of the chairs, and produced a silk cloth from his vest pocket. The werewolf nodded appreciatively and wiped his mouth.

“You lose control like that, too?”

“Not myself so much these days. Deacon, though, is still young, and has a tendency to overindulge. Nick, too. It took forever for him to learn, how do you call it—”portion control.” He was gorging himself during every feeding, it was not pretty.”

Anton leaned back and spread his legs, giving his gut room to breathe. Viago blushed.

“I’ve had to teach my guys the same. I try not to—urp—wolf out like this in front of them, I’ve gotta be a role model.” He burped a few more times behind a closed fist. 

The noise made Viago blush; he tried to avert his eyes from Anton, finding it painfully hard not to stare. Leaned back in the chair, Anton looked so utterly satisfied, his rounded belly rising and falling with every huff. His overfed tummy strained against the buttons of his flannel, which Anton meekly tried to tug down. He was just so lovely to look at, so plump and full, and he wondered how it would feel to touch him...

Viago felt embarrassed, suddenly. Was the room getting hotter? Gott in himmel, just be normal, he cursed himself out mentally. “Y-you are a very good role model for them, I’ve never seen you eating like this before. Do you feel alright?” 

“Yeah, the hunger is definitely gone, for now. Feels good to let go sometimes. Y’know, let the beast out.” He laughed and made a clawing motion. “Can’t do this too often, though, or I’ll put on a few pounds.” He patted his middle.

Viago’s mouth went dry. Fuck it, he decided he had never been one to understand the social norms of the modern age, and hell, Anton's stomach was just begging for attention. How could he not? Viago sidled up to him and gently reached out, rubbing gentle circles on his middle. Oh, it was delightful. He felt just as warm as Viago imagined, soft and round and so wonderfully alive.

Anton tensed at first, and laughed nervously, but evidently relaxed into the feeling. His eyelids fluttered closed. “Hm, thank you.”

“It is no worry,” Viago said in a hushed voice. He continued happily, massaging the ache away for his beloved companion, all the while reveling in this new, exciting sensation. And Anton seemed to be absolutely loving it, his breaths slowed and his head lolled to the side, overcome with drowsy pleasure. The wolf's lips parted ever so slightly, and Viago admired his teeth—the small, barely noticeable pointed fangs he bore in his human form. They were adorable.

Eager to feel closer, Viago slipped his hands under the werewolf’s shirt.

Anton’s eyes opened and he laughed. “You don’t have to do that, mate.” His cheeks were tinted pink, a color so very complimentary to his copper hair, Viago thought.

“Allow me, I want to make you feel good.” He purred when his fingers grazed the soft fuzz of Anton’s stomach. “My hands are not too cold?”

“A little chilly, but I don’t mind.” Anton pushed his tummy needily into Viago’s hands. Their eyes met, and the vampire noticed something akin to mischief in his eyes. “Maybe I can warm them up?”

Viago’s head swirled, and his jaw fell slack. He was just so full in his hands, so bountiful with food and blood and warmth and… Viago couldn’t untangle the mess of arousal and hunger coursing through his own system. He wanted to do things to this man, kiss him, feed him, tear him apart, crawl into his skin...

His thoughts were interrupted by a moan, guttural and dripping with arousal, that bellowed so beautifully from Anton’s throat. 

The werewolf immediately shot his hand up to cover his mouth. “Fuck, I’m so sorry!” He straightened up and smacked Viago’s hands away. “I—It’s just the moon, it, ah,” the panicked string of words tumbled from his lips. “Werewolves kind of get, well, really horny around this time, too, and—after all that food, and your hands just feel so nice, and—”

Viago grabbed the blubbering werewolf by the collar and smashed their lips together. Anton let out a surprised growl. The ginger's lips were soft, and Viago was pleased that he didn't taste too strongly of werewolf. No, Anton's mouth had a rich, delicious taste, a unique kind of masculine essence that Viago had never experienced before. The vampire imagined many times how he might court Anton, perhaps buying him flowers, or taking him for a walk in the park. This worked just as well, he supposed.

Their lips stayed glued together for what felt like minutes. Viago wanted so desperately to shove his tongue down Anton's throat, but decided to contain himself and pulled away.

“You have no need to be sorry,” he groaned. “I am very much aroused by your eating, and well, this,” he placed his palm against Anton’s belly.

The werewolf whimpered, face now completely crimson. “You—really?”

“Mm, you are so deliciously red and plump-looking.” Viago traced the round shape of Anton’s sides. He wanted nothing more than to run his tongue along the warm skin, to suck and bite every inch of him. He glanced down and noticed, with delight, how achingly hard Anton was under his khakis.

Anton laughed breathlessly. He looked equal parts shocked and aroused. “Viago, I... fuckin' hell. Do you, wanna—?" Panting, Anton grabbed for the vampire's wrist. "I mean, I can’t control what I might do to you.”

“Let us lose control together, my hungry wolf,” Viago quipped, grabbing Anton by the waist and pulling him close.

That must have really awoken the wolf. In the blink of an eye, Anton had swept Viago off his feet and was carrying him to the parlor. Apparently his bloated drowsiness was completely forgotten as he tossed Viago onto the couch and pounced on him.

Viago was sure he would wake up after this battered and bruised (Vlad and Deacon would surely say something, and he’d have to restock the fridge before they questioned that, too). None of that mattered as Anton’s warm, heavy frame rutted against him.

As the sun rose, Viago fell asleep heady with pleasure, with Anton slumped on top of him—and it was the first time in decades he hadn’t slept alone.

Chapter Text

As the full moon sank beneath the horizon and the sun filled the sky, Anton woke up.

The pack leader sat up on his elbows with a grunt. As always, the forest ground was unforgivingly cold and hard. Memories of last night’s transformation came flooding back to him—hunger, violence, blinding rage, all mixed with the euphoria of becoming the animal trapped inside. Anton glanced down and surveyed his now-human body. He was still wearing his track pants and running shoes, although his shirt and jacket were nearly torn to shreds.

The morning after a full moon was always filled with shame. One only hoped things didn’t get too out of hand, that they hadn’t murdered any innocent people. (Or if they did, that they'd run away fast enough for the police to blame a rabid dog.) For Anton, his biggest worry was always his pack members’ well being. First order of business was to take a headcount. Luckily it looked like many of his mates were still chained to their trees. Taking a closer look, he did notice blood on several of them, but no major injuries. Stu looked like he fared the best, as his clothes were fully intact and barely a spot on them. Anton grinned with pride. His lectures and full-moon drills were paying off, it seemed.

He’d give them all a few more moments to rest before he roused them to go find the others. Still a bit drowsy, Anton slid down and sat against a tree. 

It was funny, he suddenly thought, that he felt good this morning. 

Post-transformation never felt good. No, for as long as he could remember, it was a painful and wretched experience. As a young werewolf, he used to sob through tortured screams as his body changed. It was even more gruesome changing back, as his body desperately tried to heal every broken bone and torn ligament. It got easier the older he got, but it was always painful. Transformation hangovers were notoriously bad. Right about now his head should be pounding, his muscles screaming at him. 

But he felt fine. He was calm, even a little energized. Like he could easily get dressed, scarf down some coffee and toast, and get on with his day.

The only thing he had done differently this moon, he knew good and well, was that little rendezvous the other night with Viago. He blushed and laid a hand on his belly as he recalled. Stuffing his face had quelled something in him. And, well, the events that transpired afterwards did something to satisfy the beast's cravings, too. 

He and the pack had always prepared for each full moon by depriving themselves. It's what all werewolves did—fight against whatever the beast wants. The more hungry or horny you feel, the more you need to fight, fight to stay human. Push down your shame, chain yourself up and hide away from the world. Don't give it what it wants.

But could it be that feeding those urges... one could make peace with the wolf? The more Anton thought about it, it made sense. It felt so cathartic to lose himself in that headspace and treat himself to a feast of rich, bloody meat. Then to just sit back and revel in the feeling of fullness. Relaxed and heavy. It was an addictive feeling. Something he hadn't indulged in in years. It wasn't very graceful or pretty to see, and he had felt so ashamed afterward. But Viago had been so nice, and of course he mentioned something about being turned on by the whole thing...

It was all food for thought. Right now, he needed to focus on his pack, slowly waking up with the sunrise.

“Anton?” Declan’s voice rasped from nearby. Soon after he heard Stu and Clifton coming to their senses as well, shifting uncomfortably against their chains.

“It’s alright, mates, take it slow.” Anton sprung to his feet and attended to his pack. He knew full well how they felt right now, probably like they’d been hit by a train. He set to work unlocking each padlock (he had come up with a solution to their lock problem a while ago, now keeping everyone’s keys neatly labeled on one ring).  “I think we did alright this time. No major injuries, as far as I can tell. Once we find the others we’ll get some breakfast and some well-deserved rest.”

The other pack members were strewn throughout the woods, clothes completely ruined and their bodies covered in gashes. Furious, Anton chewed them out for their poor choice of tree and lazy chain-wrapping technique. But truthfully, he loved each of these guys like brothers—he couldn’t stay mad at them if he tried. Anton gently bandaged each of their wounds, and hugged each member tight as they apologized to him.

As they all limped home, his head swam with thoughts of Viago—and food, lots of food.

Chapter Text

“Why is our kitchen full of food?”

Deacon’s voice rang out from the kitchen doorway, and Viago jumped out of his skin, clumsily knocking over some spices on the counter.

“Bloody hell, don’t scare me like that.” The older vampire scoffed, wiping his hands on his apron. “Surely I don’t understand the question. It is a kitchen, is it not for food?”

The younger one shot him a knowing glance, one eyebrow quirked.

“I’m not cooking for us,” Viago offered simply, and waved a dismissive hand. He diligently surveyed the pots and pans on the stovetop, making sure everything was simmering nicely. Every surface in the vampires’ rarely-used kitchen was covered, full of bowls and utensils and ingredients. Viago had honestly forgotten how much he loved cooking. It was a craft he didn’t have much use for; he delighted in writing, pottery, and music, but the culinary arts naturally fell to the wayside. It had been centuries since he’d needed to cook for himself, and just as long since he’d had someone to cook for. 

It was only a coincidence, he reasoned, that Anton was coming over tonight. And Viago just happened to find his oma’s old cookbook, after tearing his entire library apart, then had Stu help him “google” the nearest 24-hour grocery store.

“So you’re having a victim over tonight?”

Viago avoided Deacon’s stare. He idly stirred some vegetables swimming in a pot of broth. “W-well, no, not exactly a victim. It’s more of—”

“Anton?”

He sighed and hung his head. What a pathetic romantic he was. “Is it that obvious?”

“Pretty fucking obvious, man.” Deacon rested a friendly hand on his shoulder. “You talk about him an awful lot. Not to mention the werewolf smell … I was starting to think something died in the walls, our whole house reeked . Finally we noticed you were letting him in every night.”

Viago gave a meek grin. “I enjoy his company quite a bit. We actually have a lot in common, and I’d say we’re… friends.”

Deacon looked confused. “He’s not your boyfriend?”

Viago’s stomach dropped. “Boyfr— what? That’s absurd, why would you think that?”

“I just figured, with all your little tea parties, and your book club, and watching movies together,” he rattled off examples, “and since Stu and Nick got together, we’re all used to the idea of the whole ‘vampire-werewolf romance’ thing. Are you sure you’re not dating?”

Viago hissed, floating a few inches off the ground. “We’re just friends!”

“Alright, alright!” Deacon laughed defensively. He tugged Viago’s shirt sleeve, pulling him back down. “I’m just fucking with you. Vlad and I were joking around that you’d make a cute couple, but if you say you’re just friends, we’ll shut up about it.”

Viago huffed and composed himself. He turned his attention back to cooking. “Thank you. Now I’d appreciate some privacy while I prepare something nice for my friend.”

“We’re going into town tonight so don’t worry about us.” Deacon retreated to the hall, grinning devilishly. “So you two pals can be as loud as you want this time!”

--

Anton took a deep breath of cool night air as he let himself into the vampire household. It’s just a casual night with one of your mates, he assured himself. Just act like you always do. You’re friends. That’s all.

It had been a few weeks since Anton had come to see Viago, and he felt quite terrible about it. He kept making excuses, saying he was going out of town to see family, or one of his pack mates was going through a bad breakup, or he was just too tired. They were all lies. Viago kept texting back sweet things, and hell that made Anton feel even worse. He just imagined it would be weird the next time he and Viago hung out, and kept pushing it off. But truthfully he was starting to miss his eccentric vampire friend. And, well, the full moon was creeping up again—the cravings for food and companionship were pestering him, so he resolved to come over tonight. Not that he expected anything, food or otherwise. If anything, spending time around a trusted friend would just help him unwind and relax. Besides, they had both just finished reading Interview With the Vampire, and that was something to talk about. 

“Viago?” As he walked through the archaic household, Anton’s senses perked up. His sensitive nose was met with herbs, spices, vegetables, meat. Not the usual scent of dust and decaying corpses. No, this was nice.

He stepped into the kitchen and spotted Viago standing at the stove, the sight of him made something light up in Anton's brain.

“Hey! I, uh—” he cleared his throat and held up a DVD box. “I brought the film with me, I figured we could see how it stands up to the book.”

“Oh! Anton! Ah, wonderful idea.” 

“You’ll like this one. I think it’s pretty accurate to the vampire experience, but you can be the judge of that. I think it’s a hell of a lot more accurate than Twilight.”

Viago grinned. They had been on a kick lately with vampire media, focusing mostly on the classics, like Dracula, Carmilla, Nosferatu, but he had brought over the Twilight saga one night and Viago had nearly pissed himself laughing. Anton loved watching his reactions. Viago’s joy was contagious. He was excited to move on to some ridiculous werewolf stuff next, he was sure he’d get a kick out of the original Teen Wolf. 

Anton’s lips twitched into a grin as he curiously eyed the apron around Viago’s waist, and the apparent dinner being prepared—along with a countertop full of cakes and biscuits and other goodies. He felt his heart flutter (and his stomach growl).

“You went grocery shopping. And you’re cooking?”

Vampires didn't eat food. Werewolves did. This was a fact both of them knew very, very well. Viago seemed to nervously avoid his gaze, suddenly very interested in adding salt and pepper to a saucepan. “Oh, yes.”

He peered over Viago’s shoulder. God, it looked delicious. He spied bratwurst, potatoes, carrots, at least three or four other kinds of meat in some delicious thick sauce. His mouth watered. “So the food is for who, exactly?”

“I just figured you— you were awfully hungry last time!” The vampire sputtered. “And it is not great etiquette to serve one’s guest raw meat. I wanted to be a bit more prepared. You don’t have to eat anything, really.”

Anton felt warm and fuzzy. He felt like hugging Viago, but decided that would be awkward. 

“Of course I'd love to have some! I’m starving."

“Don’t get your hopes up, remember I cannot taste my own cooking so this is all guesswork.” Viago scooped up a hearty spoonful of beef stew. “You can give me some feedback?”

Viago held it gently up to his mouth, waiting. His brown eyes were so huge, eyelashes long and dainty. Anton melted. He couldn’t say no to a face like that—not that he would. He hadn’t realized he was so ravenous until that moment.

The wolf blushed, parting his lips and letting Viago spoon feed him. The flavor burst over his tongue, and Anton hummed happily. It was lovely, so warm and rich. A little bit salty, maybe, but for a vampire this was certainly impressive.

“That’s delicious. Your guesswork is spot on.”

Viago smiled proudly to himself. “How about you begin the film, and I will bring you a plate? Perhaps you can try a little of everything?”

Anton didn’t need to be told twice. Viago serving him dinner sounded lovely. He found his way to the parlor and popped the disc in their DVD player.

The parlor was oddly clean. (Apart from their library which was a mess, piles of books stacked randomly on the floor.) It looked like the walls had been dusted and the rugs vacuumed. Did Viago clean for him, too? More than likely; Anton knew he was the only vampire in the flat who pulled his weight with household responsibilities. A point Viago made abundantly clear to Anton when they first became friends, as he proudly showed off his homemade chore wheel. It was the most adorable thing Anton had ever seen. So adorable that he had Viago help him make one for the werewolf household (much to the pack’s displeasure.) He admired a man with leadership qualities, who wasn't afraid to keep his mates in order. And to think that now this man was cooking, cleaning, thinking about Anton. His heart felt full.

“Dinner for you, my friend,” Viago announced happily, handing a heavy plate to Anton. He took a seat on the chaise and dimmed the lights. Anton was a little relieved to see Viago had a glass of blood, so he wouldn’t be the only one eating. 

Not that it really mattered, because Jesus Christ he was starving and nothing was going to stop him from stuffing his face right then. Anton dug his fork right into the hot meal, and crammed his mouth with a delicious cut of pork. 

Oh, it was good. Too good. He tingled all over. It was exactly what the wolf in him was craving. Raw meat was alright, but a homecooked meal was waaay better. He shoveled a huge forkful of vegetables into his mouth, followed by some more meat. He needed it faster than his mouth could handle, desperately tipping the plate right up to his mouth as he gobbled it down.

“Is everything tasting okay?” Viago’s voice brought him back to his senses, thankfully, just as he was about to abandon all social etiquette and lick the fucking plate clean.

Anton wiped his mouth and smiled shyly. “Oh. Y-yeah, it’s phenomenal! Could I have some more, please?”

Viago seemed happy with the request. He took his plate and returned with a new spread of hot delicacies, along with a large bowl of stew. Anton grabbed for it all, a little more eager than he intended. He wasted no time digging in. It was all lovely, the brats and sauerkraut and sweet glazed vegetables, not to mention some delicious bread slathered thickly with butter.

He hadn’t even finished this second serving before Viago brought him a third. 

Anton certainly slowed down with this serving, feeling fairly content and full. He leaned back and took a second to catch his breath. It was all so delicious, and it was filling him up so pleasantly. He hadn't noticed Viago had brought him a beer, too. Grateful, he guzzled it down, and the liquid filled up any empty space in his tummy. As it settled inside him, he felt a pleasant buzz.

Just a few more bites and his plate was empty again. Anton panted for breath and couldn’t help a few burps and hiccups. “Sorry,” he muttered through a closed fist.

Viago seemed amused. Delighted, even. “It is a compliment to me, that you enjoy my cooking.”

Before he knew it, a fourth serving was being pushed into Anton’s hands. Fuck, this was definitely more than he would stuff himself under normal circumstances. But his hunger was strong tonight, and every bite of food just felt so good. And when Viago looked so excited to feed him, how could he not indulge?

He chewed and grunted happily, working through the hefty plate of tender beef and beautifully sauteed mushrooms. He ate slow enough now to actually register what was happening on the screen, and hear Viago laughing about how silly the relationship between Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise's characters was. Anton had come prepared tonight with some talking points about the film, but he couldn't remember a single one. His stupidly canine brain could only think about food, meat, need to eat more, please moremoremore!

But Anton’s plate was empty once again. He licked his lips, not sure if he was still hungry or too stuffed to eat another bite. Anton was thankful Viago took the dish out of his hand, too full to even lean forward and place it on the coffee table.

“Have you had enough to eat?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, positively food-drunk. He was so tired and heavy, like he could melt into the couch. What he wouldn’t give to unbutton his tight jeans right now and fall asleep. “Feels really nice.”

Viago took his plate to the kitchen. He returned yet again, this time with a smaller dish stacked high with little chocolate-dipped biscuits. Anton swallowed thickly.

“More? Oh, n-no I can’t.” The werewolf stammered, feeling very hot suddenly. “Trust me, I'd love to. But I’m totally full.”

Viago took his seat by Anton again, a little closer. He placed the biscuits on the table, temptingly within reach. 

“It would not hurt you to have a little more."  Was that mischief in his voice? The vampire wore a devious little smirk, and Anton felt himself blush a deep shade of red. “I cannot possibly eat any of this food on my own. You'll have to do it for me. So you are… how do they put it? ‘Eating for two?’”

“I think that’s something they say about pregnant people,” Anton breathed through a nervous laugh. Eating for two. The human and the wolf, he thought. Yes, he certainly was, and the animal inside him was too stuffed to eat another bite.

“Well, you do look pregnant.” Viago chuckled amusedly. “So cute and round.”

The quip sent a confused shock down Anton’s spine. He looked down at his gut. 

Christ, he did look huge. He blinked, making sure he was seeing things right. His normally flat tummy was round and taut, so filled with Viago’s cooking. He wished he had worn a jacket or a sweater tonight, because the thin t-shirt stretched over his belly wasn’t hiding this well. This was so embarrassing, dirty, and strangely fucking hot. He had never seen himself bloated up this big before. 

Some part of him wondered if he could eat more. Eat that tempting little plate of dessert, then top it all off with a helping of ice cream or a slice of cake. Maybe a glass of milk. Perhaps a half gallon. Yeah, that sounded good. Maybe Viago could help him. Get him totally stuffed, panting and eating more, more, until he could do nothing but belch and groan and lay there in sinful languid pleasure…

Stop it, you lunatic! Anton squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck, where was this coming from? Was that just the wolf talking?

Suddenly, Viago’s nimble fingers reached out and brushed his stomach, and Anton snapped at him with an angry growl. He didn’t mean to.

“Oh! I am so sorry!” The vampire spat, backing away.

“No— fuck —it’s alright!” Anton caught his hand. He let out a sigh. The credits were rolling on the screen, and this was as good a time as any to address the elephant in the room. “Vi, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about what happened.”

The vampire settled, lowering himself again. “I know, it was a mistake. If things are too weird between us now, I understand—”

“No! I enjoyed it.”

The air was thick with tension. Viago looked wary.

"You... disappeared very quickly after that night. And I haven't seen you in so long. I was afraid you did not want to see me again."

Anton's chest hurt. "I'm really sorry. I did want to see you, I was just... I needed some time to process. And I was embarrassed that I wolfed out so hard in front of you. But what we did actually helped me, I think? Giving into the werewolf hunger made transforming a little less brutal. It felt good to feed those cravings and not deprive myself.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, yeah, I enjoyed everything that happened.”

Finally Viago caught his eye, and Anton offered an awkward reassuring smile. Viago grinned back, the points of his fangs peeking out adorably. “So you want to…?”

“Want to keep doing this? Um, yeah. I mean, spending time together and eating,” Anton said. “It makes me feel... nice."

Viago smiled in agreement. "So was the food tonight enough for your hunger?"

“Mate, look how stuffed I am.” He held his belly in both hands like a beach ball. “It was delicious, I couldn't stop myself! And you were still trying to get me to eat more, you sadist,” he joked.

The vampire shyly wrung his hands. “Ah, I guess… I don't remember how much mortals can eat comfortably?”

“Oh, sure.” Anton teased, not buying it. “I think you were purposefully trying to feed me until I exploded.”

“Okay, I admit I wanted to watch you indulge yourself a tiny bit? And, um—” His eyes rested on Anton’s middle. His voice lowered to a whisper, “I really admire the look of your belly. I wanted to see you full again.”

Anton smiled, feeling newfound confidence bubble inside him. He patted his tummy proudly. “You'll have plenty of opportunities to see me like this. I have a healthy appetite."

“So we can continue this?” Viago’s eyes glimmered.

“If you want to, yeah. We can keep hanging out like always, plus the food. I just hope you don’t mind that I’m way hungrier this time of the month.”

He nodded fervently. “It is no worry to me. We vampires don’t pay attention to the lunar cycles, but I will make sure to cook lots and lots when I know it’s coming.” 

Anton's brow furrowed. “Please don’t go out of your way to cook for me again, I feel undeserving of all this. Really, Viago, I’m fine with takeout, or I can cook for myself.”

“It would be my pleasure. It’s lovely to have someone to care for.” 

Anton felt like his heart could burst through his chest. No one had ever been so kind, so loving towards him, certainly not since he’d become a wolf. He hoped he could return the favor for Viago, with time.

“But, maybe we can go to some restaurants in Wellington sometimes?" Viago suggested, "It has been decades since I’ve been in one.”

“Oh sure, I can show you all my favorite spots." Anton smiled, already thinking of date nights for the two of them. “And, I wouldn’t mind, when we do this, if…you wanted to get closer?"

He pressed Viago’s cold hand to his belly. The vampire chirped happily, accepting the permission. He slid closer to Anton, snaking an arm around his waist and rubbing gentle circles. "Thank you, I was very much waiting to do this."

"I could tell." Anton laughed, relaxing against the armrest. If being stuffed wasn't enough to make him fall asleep, having Viago rub his tummy was sure to do it. Eyelids heavy, he lifted his shirt up a little and finally unbuttoned his jeans. It elicited a happy noise from the vampire, whose hands latched eagerly onto the newly exposed skin.

"Viago? I don't mean to disappoint, but I'm kind of too tired and full to, ah, do anything else. In case you had that in mind?"

"I am far from disappointed," the older one assured, "Just being close to you is perfect for me."

Anton closed his eyes. As Viago snuggled against him and rubbed away his bellyache, the wolf inside Anton's mind felt fully at peace, safe and cared for.