Chapter Text
Anton hates transformation nights. He really does.
He hates spending the entire day with the moon behind him, its gaze burning holes in the back of his skull.
He hates the persistent nagging in the back of his mind saying ‘What if someone gets loose? What if a member of your pack kills someone? Turns someone?’
He hates the utter incompetence of his packmembers (whom he does still love very much), who forget their clothes, who bring the wrong chains and forget the fucking combinations, who choose the wrong trees and inevitably end up snapping whatever poor twig they’d tied themselves to and eating a large portion of native wildlife.
He hates the change, hates feeling his bones twist and bend and break as his entire body is warped into an alternate form, hates the way lines of new teeth slice through his gums as they sprout from his skull.
But most of all, he hates the morning after.
The morning after a transformation night is the most tired Anton has been in his entire life.
He’d always been sporty, always running around or something , always finding some new way to exert his juvenile energy - but any level of exhaustion experienced by a human could not be topped by this.
Anton wakes up disoriented, held up against the worn bark of Kauri by the taught chains he’d barely managed to secure around himself the night before. He lifts his aching arms with every ounce of strength he has left and manages to twist the key still left in the lock, letting the chains fall loose from around his torso and clatter against the bush floor.
He nearly loses his footing as the chain’s support leaves him, barely catching himself on his legs that shake underneath his weight.
A quick inspection shows the rest of his pack is (thankfully) still attached to their trees, a few already stepping free of their bindings. Anton breathes in deeply, relieved - he really does worry too much about the possibility of one of his boy’s getting free.
He trusts his pack enough to let themselves free, barely acknowledging them as he trudges through the bushland, up to his van parked at the outskirts of the park. He always feels uncomfortable after a full moon, always left half naked after his body more than doubles inside. (He does take refuge in the thought that at least he isn’t currently naked, like some members of his pack are right now).
He cringes as he comes closer to the van, seeing the sliding side door left open and the keys left in the ignition - it would be the last time he lets Nathan M leave the van last. He takes it as a divine gift that neither the keys or the van had been taken through the night and files away his frustration at Nathan for another time. Instead, he gathers the pile of newly bought tracksuit pants - cheap from Kmart - and a pre-packed rucksack of gatorade and muesli bars and heads back down the worn dirt trail to where his boys are still shucking off their chains and stepping out of the shredded remains of their jeans and jackets.
He pays little attention as the food is passed around - he trusts that Stu will ensure no one takes more than their fair share - and instead helps Nathan G wriggle out of his twisted chains and bites back several curse words at the mess of woven steel.
No one really wants to stay in the bush for much longer, and as soon as everyone has a modicum of clothing on and has healed from any claw marks, they follow Anton’s lead up the trail and out of the bush.
Dion and Clifton’s partners have arrived to drive them home personally, and Anton almost hugs them. He’s too tired to deal with any pack bickering while he drives them all home, and having the two biggest troublemakers out of his van will surely spare him of that.
His pack clambers in and finds their seats, Stu taking the passenger seat beside Anton. They’re thankfully all worn out and there is no conversation aside from quiet mumblings about relaxation plans.
Anton knows the drive through Te Aro so well he could do it with his eyes closed, and he’s tempted to, but ultimately decides to wait until he gets home to do that. He drops Declan at his bungalow in Kelburn, drives through Te Aro to drop the two Nathans at their respective houses before riding up to Mount Victoria to Stu’s block of flats.
He stops in front of the redbrick building and waits for Stu to undo his seatbelt, resisting every urge to rest his forehead against the steering wheel and ignore any request made by the pack until he’s slept for at least a week.
Stu stands from his seat but before he moves to climb out he leans over and gently kisses Anton’s temple. “Rest up, Alpha.” He murmurs, awkwardly patting his shoulder and clambering out of the van with more grace than all the rest of the pack combined.’
Anton sighs as he watches Stu stumble up the side of his building and key open the door, and he turns his own key in the ignition, feeling his engine come awake and shake the car from beneath him. As his headlights flicker on, Anton resigns himself to the long drive home as the dawn spreads across the sky.
The drive home, back to Te Aro, is thankfully short. His van stays parked at the side of the nature strip; the garage that had come with his flat remained empty - as most in the building did - and was used instead as partly his own storage and a second living room for his pack (where he didn’t need to worry about the effects of urine on his well worn carpets).
The door to his block of flats was always held open by a small penguin shaped door stopper, which as far as he knew had been bought by the lady on the 3rd floor and had somehow not been stolen yet. He climbs the staircase up to his flat, the fourth floor - second from the top, and nearly collapses against his door after climbing the eight flights of stairs. His key slides into the lock and clicks open, and he falls into his apartment with half a sob.
He drops his keys into the bowl that sits beside the door and kicks his shoes off in the general direction of his shoe rack.
He stinks, and he’s ravenous, but more than anything he’s tired. He’s absolutely exhausted.
He passes the kitchen and skirts around the open plan living room and only enters the hallway to reach his bedroom, a sharp right from the hallway entrance, and falls face first on his bed. He doesn’t bother to shuck his jacket or trackies, both engrained with sweat and grit from the night before, and lets himself fall into sleep.
He wakes up a few times throughout the day, drifting between being conscious enough to move from where he’s curled up at the end of the bed to lay properly with his face buried in the pillows to being unable to open his eyes fully. It dawns on him, in a moment of clarity, that he should try to not sleep all day, to stay up and work up enough exhaustion to sleep through the entire night and retain his semi-appropriate sleep pattern, but he’s more than overcome with his recovery, and blinks back into sleep as he watches the sky deepen from pink to blue to pink again and then purple, until the chance to salvage his sleep schedule has long slipped past his grasp.
He wakes up again and is met by only darkness, his open blinds showing the star-speckled sky as it shifts into the place of the sun. He sits up, running his fingers over the pillow creases in his cheek and then through his hair, catching his fingers on matted hair curled around sticks and leaves. He cringes as he detangles his fingers from his mop of hair, deciding not to deal with the mess until he could keep his eyes open without a fight.
As he comes to his senses, settling in the throbbing ache in his skull and the bruising across his form, Anton comes to realise that perhaps it wasn’t only his severely offbeat internal clock that had woken him. He turns to face the other side of the bed, and catches sight of one very peculiarly dressed vampire standing on the other side of his bed, hovering awkwardly in the centre of his room.
“Fuck!” Anton falls back from where he’s sitting and lands on the floor with a thunk.
Viago giggles awkwardly as he floats up over the bed and hovers over Anton. “Hello there, swearwolf.”
Anton sighs as his eyes take in Viago, breathing out the adrenaline his body had thrust into his veins. “...Hi.”
Viago looks down at him with a quaint smile as he bobs up and down in the air. Anton only has just enough sense to dispel the fear that he might fall face first into him. “How did you get in here?”
Viago’s face perks up. “Oh!” He says, digging around in his jacket pocket and pulling out his flip-phone. “I used the audio recording! That you gave me. To get in?” He presses a button on the keypad and turns it around so that the bright little screen is blaring down at Anton.
/Hi, darlin’, this is Anton, owner of flat 4, 29 Taranaki street, and you’re welcome to come inside…/
Viago presses another button and the recording cuts off with a quiet beep. “It worked!” Viago chirps, barely containing his excitement as his hands shake and his little smile grows into a beaming one.
Anton’s face softens as he looks up at Viago, the edges of his mouth curling up into a smile. “I’m glad.”
Viago drifts down closer to Anton and takes a hold of his arms. “Let’s get you back onto the bed, ja?” And before Anton can even form a response, Viago has lifted him effortlessly up from the carpet and is lowering him back down onto his duvet.
He tips Anton so that he lays on his side, and Viago also lowers himself until his weight dips the mattress behind Anton.
“Hallo, Anton” Viago murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Anton’s temple. His hands trail up from Anton’s elbows, right up his forearm and past his shoulders, they slide up his neck and settle on his cheeks, tracing soft circles into the skin.
“Viago.” Anton sighs into the pillow, melting into Viago’s body behind him.
“I am sorry if I frightened you, mein welpe,” Viago mumbles, guiltily burrowing his nose in Anton’s shoulder, “I assure you I had no ill intention.”
Anton feels his face flush as his limited knowledge of German finally kicks into action. Mein welpe . “O-oh,” He chokes out eventually, “It’s fine, Vi.”
A silence stretches out between them, Viago trailing his fingers over Anton’s cheeks in a way that makes his foot twitch.
“Why…. are you here, Viago?” Anton eventually asks, breaking the silence with his quiet whisper.
“Oh,” Viago hums, “I recalled us discussing your care after the full moon and your other you , and when I realised it was the night after I decided to come over!”
Anton nods. “My ‘other me’?”
“Your smaller you. When you get small. You did say this yourself, no?” Viago rakes his fingers up into Anton’s hair, at the tufts just above his ears that remain untangled.
Oh . Anton breathes his recognition. “Right.” He says, nodding into the pillow. He hadn’t felt ‘small’ in a while, only once or twice since he’d even told Viago, but he can definitely feel the warm fog settling in his chest as Viago presses his lukewarm weight behind him.
“Do you not wish to be small? I can just take care of normal you, or I can leave entirely. I only wish to respect your wishes.”
Anton smiles as he listens to Viago ramble on. He was always so cautious, ever the gentleman. “I think I want to.” He mumbles, leaning into Viago behind him. He’d been small a significant number of times, with and without his pack, and had his fair share of experience watching after other small pack members, but it never became less nerve wracking to admit that he craved the attention he did.
“Alright then, welpe.” Viago grins, beginning to scratch just above Anton’s ears and laughing when the werewolf’s foot begins to kick and thump against the bed. “You like a good ear-scratch, don’t you?” Viago giggles.
Anton swats at the body behind him. “Shut up.” He grumbles, as if his phantom tail isn’t wagging like crazy right now.
“Hush, hush, wolf.” Viago murmurs, moving to pat the hair at the nape of Anton’s neck. “Stu told me you don’t have much stuff of your own for your smaller self, so I brought some of my own. Is this okay?”
Anton nods. He hadn’t known anyone had picked up on his lack of gear, but wasn’t surprised that it was Stu who had. He was the most observant out of the other pack members, but Anton had hardly thought anyone would care that he didn’t own anything for when he slipped, unlike his pack who had clothing and toys and god knows whatever else for whenever they slipped.
His excuse had always been that it just didn’t happen enough, unlike his pack who could slip any number of times in a week, to justify him buying extra clothing or toys.
“I brought some of Nick’s stuff, but it’s all unused so don’t worry.” Viago snakes his arms down from Anton’s neck to circle around his waist and pull him close with a comforting weight.
“Nick’s stuff?” Anton turns to look at Viago from the corner of his eye.
“Oh yes,” Viago says, pulling Anton tighter against his chest, “Nick gets small too. We buy him many things but, naturally, not everything suits him and he doesn’t use it, so I thought we could give it a trial!”
Anton nods again, letting Viago man handle him until his face is pressed against Viago’s chest. He’d had no idea that Vampires did this too.
“Does anyone else get small?” He mumbles, looking up to the vampire as his eyebrows furrow in thought.
“I believe Deacon does occasionally, but he’s a bit older than Stu said you were.” Viago tilts his head back down to gaze at Anton. “Vlad doesn’t, but he likes Nick a whole lot more when he’s small, and somehow likes Stu more too. He’d probably have no issue with you coming for a visit one day, if you wanted to.”
Anton nods into Viago’s chest, absorbing this new information. He thought he was good at detecting who did and did not get smaller, but he supposes now that his radar may have been a bit biassed to werewolves only.
“But that’s all for a later date, ja? Let’s focus on you for now, welpe.” Viago puts two hands on the back of Anton’s head and gently pulls him back away from his chest, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. “How about we start with a bath?” He says, eyeing the dirt and grit on Anton’s face and hair with a poorly hidden grimace. It makes Anton giggle.
“Okay.”
Viago helps Anton sit up on the bed, and comes around the side to take his hand and guide him toward the bathroom.
“Can you please start getting undressed?” Viago asks as he begins to turn on the bath. “I will be back in just a moment - I have to collect something first.”
Anton nods dazily, watching the slowly rising bathwater as he begins to strip off his many layers of clothing. He can feel his motor skills beginning to recede slightly as the fog seeps forward in his mind, and knows that the bath will likely be the thing that finally tugs the fog to the forefront of his mind and lets him drift away to a smaller state.
He manages to pull off his mud caked sneakers and two of his jackets by the time Viago comes back, a small bag in hand, which he sits just next to the bath.
“Let me help you there, Süße torte.” Viago coos as he comes to stand in front of Anton, taking the hem of his shirt in hand and pulling it up over his head. Anton is more than comfortable with Viago seeing him naked - they’d both been naked together many many times - and puts up no complaint as Viago helps him work off the last of his clothes.
“So dirty, kleinen!” Viago exclaims as he pulls a twig from behind Anton’s ear. “Is the water too warm? I must admit I’m not the best with temperature.”
Anton sticks a finger into the water and nods up at Viago, who smiles and reaches out to take Anton’s elbow and help him into the bath.
Anton, with Viago’s encouragement, shakily steps into the bath. By some miracle, he doesn’t slip, and slowly lowers down into the water with Viago’s steady grasp to guide him.
“Good job!” Viago claps his hands as Anton settles, smiling down at him in a way that beckons the warm fog even further forward, bringing him closer and closer to his smaller self.
Anton smiles at Viago as he flicks the bathwater around. It was hot, but Anton loved warm baths, and had to resist the urge to slip down and lay beneath the surface of the water so that he was fully submerged in the heat of the water.
“Give me your face, Anton,” Viago says as he kneels down beside the bath, a small bucket in hand, “I need to clean you up, ja?”
Anton shifts closer to the edge, placing his chin in Viago’s outstretched palm. “I’m just going to run some water down your face, please close your eyes, welpe.” He dips the small bucket under the water, and brings it up to tip it down Anton’s forehead, careful not to wet too much of his hair just yet. “Guter Welpe!” Viago hums, wiping excess water from Anton’s eyelashes.
Anton cracks open his eyes, watching as Viago reaches down into the bag he brought and pulls out a small bottle of soap.
“Don’t worry, lovely, it’s just soap,” The vampire murmurs, moving to show the bottle to Anton. “It’s very nice, pup, it won’t hurt your eyes and it will make your skin so soft and smell so nice. Nick and Stu like it when they have their baths.” Viago pops open the cap and squeezes a small dollop onto his palm.
He looks up to Anton as he lathers the soap between his hands and smiles at him. “It might be a bit cold at first, but I promise you’ll like it.” Viago brings his hands up to Anton’s cheeks and rubs the lathered soap against his mud-smeared skin.
Anton’s eyes slip closed as Viago massages the thick lather into his skin, resulting in a little giggle from the vampire. “Do you like that, kätzchen? Do you like being a clean little wolf?”
Anton hums as he nods, leaning into Viago’s touch as he scratches Anton’s chin and cheeks. The soap is more gentle than he thought it would be, and he can feel his phantom tail wagging and wagging as he sits under Viago’s gentle touch.
“So clean,” Viago murmurs as he scrubs the dirt off of Anton’s face, “Such a cute boy hidden under all this mud! I never would’ve found you!”
Anton giggles as Viago pulls his hands away, dipping them in the water to wash the soap off and taking his bucket back in hand.
“I’m going to rinse now, schatz, don’t get a fright.” Anton braces himself as Viago tips the water down over his face, wiping away the last of his soap with his thumb. “Excellent job, kleinkind.”
Anton cracks open his eyes and is met with the sight of Viago smiling at him like he hung the bloody stars.
“You did so well with that, herzchen, so I thought you could get a reward!” Viago turns back the bag at the side of the back, and holds his closed fist in front of Anton. “Here.”
He opens his fist and there, sitting in the palm of his hand, is a dark blue pacifier.
Anton flicks his gaze from the pacifier to Viago’s face, looking blankly between the two.
“We bought it for Nick originally, but he doesn’t like the colour blue very much, so it wasn’t of much use to him.” Viago explains, bringing the pacifier closer for Anton to inspect. “He never used it, and it wasn’t opened until now. Would you like it?”
Anton eyes the pacifier. It’s a simple design, blue and white, and appears to be completely clean. It smells nice too. Anton glances up to Viago and sheepishly nods.
“Alright, then.” Viago grins, and gently slips the pacifier past Anton’s lips.
It’s a steady weight on his tongue, almost grounding, and he tentatively sucks on it.
“Du bist bezaubernd. ” Viago sighs, leaning across to press a gentle kiss to Anton’s forehead.
The rest of the bath goes by in a blur as Anton settles into the fog, watching dazedly as Viago gently scrubs the dirt out of his skin. He takes care to wash every part of his body, even spending an absurd amount of time gently cleaning the dirt off of his hands and out from underneath his fingernails.
He combs out Anton’s dense mop of hair, picking out the twigs and leaves with another poorly hidden grimace. A part of Anton softens as he watches Viago, realising with a twinge of dampening guilt that Viago would probably rather not have his hands buried in a mound of mud, twigs, and leaves, but another warmer feeling fills him when he remembers that Viago is doing this thing - that he must hate - only because it benefits Anton .
“Eyes closed, please.” Viago says, and Anton trusts Viago enough to immediately shut his eyes without question. He feels the side of Anton’s palm press at the curve of his headline and then a gush of warm water across his scalp, shielded from hitting his face by Viago’s hand at his forehead. “Good work.” Viago hums, pushing his hands back against Anton’s hair to draw any extra water away from his face.
Viago produces a bottle of shampoo from his bag, a high quality brand that Anton usually walks right past on his grocery runs, and squeezes a fair amount into Anton’s hair. He rakes his fingers through Anton’s wet curls, letting the shampoo begin to lather and foam up as he works it into Anton’s scalp.
“Did you know,” Viago starts, scratching Anton’s scalp in such a way that made the boy’s lips part enough for the pacifier to almost slip from between them, “Your hair was so dirty that I thought you’d been turned into a brunette!”
Anton cracks open his eyes, looking at Viago incredulously as his head is swivelled side to side with the motions of washing.
“But look- close your eyes, dear-” Viago presses is hand to Anton’s forehead once more and tips another bucket of warm water down on Anton’s hair, “Back to your beautiful ginger!”
Anton giggles, and Viago takes the chance to push Anton’s wet hair out of his eyes and back against his scalp.
The conditioner is next, and once Viago is content with the application to the end of Anton’s hair, he leaves Anton with a kiss to the temple and begins to ferret around in his bag again.
“Aha!” he cries, lifting his hands and depositing a small rubber duck into the bathwater. “Look, a duck, ja?”
Anton looks down to the little yellow duck, watches it bobble about in the water. One of Viago’s hands comes up to bat at the little toy in front of Anton.
“Do you like ducks?” Viago asks animatedly, and Anton nods. He reaches out timidly to touch the duck, and Viago draws back, letting him grasp the duck and drag it through the water.
“Where’s the ducky going, huh?” Viago points at the little rubber toy as Anton guides it through the water.
Anton shrugs, bobbing the duck up and down in the water.
“Is he just swimming around then?” Anton nods this time, defiantly, picking the duck up out of the water and holding it up to Viago’s face. “Ah, but you don’t usually play with ducks, do you? Normally you are just chasing them around the park, ja?”
Anton laughs and shakes his head. “Yes you do!” Viago pokes at Anton’s cheek, who laughs more. “You love to chase ducks at the park! I always have to hold you back!”
Anton shakes his head with a wide smile, humming ‘Nuh uh’ as Viago pokes and tickles him.
“You are just such a silly little boy!” Viago sighs, tickling Anton under his chin. “Dummer kleiner Welpe.”
Anton smiles past the pacifier in his mouth, taking the duck out of Viago’s face and sitting it back in the water.
Eventually the bath has to end, and after Viago has played with Anton for far longer than he’d intended, he rinses the conditioner from Anton’s hair and helps the wolf up and out of the bath.
He drapes Anton in a dark towel, rubbing his hair and face dry enough to not drip before slinging it around his shoulders and stepping aside.
To Viago’s surprise, Anton begins to shake the second he steps away, and covers both Viago and the bathroom in a flurry of water droplets.
“Oh my gosh!” Viago cries, exaggeration only for the amusement of Anton. “Do you normally do that, you cheeky little puppy?”
Anton giggles from behind the pacifier, shaking his head again to get a further rise out of Viago, who only rolls his eyes and turns back to the bathtub.
“I’m sorry, Anton,” Viago frowns as he pulls the plug from the bath, “I know it’s a loud and scary noise, especially for your sensitive little ears, but I’m right here, ja? You’re very safe with me.”
Anton takes Viagos outstretched hand and squeezes it tight the second he comes back within reach, leaning into the vampire’s touch as he takes the towel and gently begins to dry Anton off.
The process isn’t long, and Anton seems to enjoy it, leaning into Viago’s touch and bracing himself on Viago as he works to dry him.
Eventually Viago works his way back up to Anton’s face, and uses the towel to squish the wolf’s cheeks. “You are bezaubernd !” Viago coos, peppering Anton’s damp face in kisses, settling with a final kiss on the front of the pacifier. “So cute.”
Anton flushes as he listens to Viago blabber on, attempting to nuzzle into Viago’s shoulder whenever the Vampire comes close enough.
“Now, darling, we must get you dressed.” Viago leans forward to press the tip of his nose against the tip of Anton’s, gazing lovingly into his eyes before pulling away and turning towards his bag.
“Alright, pup, you have to trust me with this, okay?” Viago starts, and Anton looks at him puzzledly until he glances down to Viago’s grasp as catches sight of the packet of pull-ups.
He looks back up to Viago, confusion written on his face, and tilts his head to the side.
“Nick and Stu use these too, sometimes, alright my love? It’s just a precaution.” Anton tilts his head further, his brows furrowing as if to say ‘ But I don’t need them?’
Viago sighs sympathetically and reaches into the torn open packet, grabbing one folded pull-up and showing it to Anton. “It’s very comfortable, and not too noticeable. It’s just in case, ja? You wouldn’t want to feel all wet and cold after your nice warm bath, would you?”
Anton takes in the nature of the garment, the plain white plastic with the pale blue edges.
“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, it’s just to make you feel safe. That is what this is all about, ja? Feeling safe? I just want to do that for you.”
Anton reaches out to timidly touch the pull-up. It’s smooth but soft, and crinkles under his touch as he squeezes it. He looks up to Viago and gently nods - quiet acceptance.
Viago tries not to beam as Anton nods, and unfolds the underwear and holds it out for Anton to step into, which he does with two shaky hands bracing himself on Viago’s back.
Viago tugs it up his legs and keeps a steady focus on Anton’s face as he adjusts to the feeling, preparing to deal with the outcome of Anton’s reaction - whatever that may be. He slides it up into place where it is flush against Anton’s skin, sitting comfortably against his frame with no noticeable issues in size or shape.
“Do you like it, Welpe?” Viago breathes.
Anton considers the weight around his hips as he shuffles on his two feet, shifting his weight from left to right. It’s a comfortable feeling as the plush sides hug his waist, the soft pad sitting between his legs and pillowing out.
He looks up to Viago and nods.
Viago breaks into a soft, restrained smile, and clasps his hands. “Now, if you don’t like it at any point, I can help you take it off, but if you decide you want to keep wearing them, I have plenty that Nick decided he didn’t like anymore! And if you want also, I can provide a more - significant form of protection?”
Anton tilts his head in confusion again, and Viago nods in understanding.
“Like a nappy, perhaps? A proper one?”
Anton takes in the information with his mouth formed into a small ‘o’ around his pacifier, nodding.
The conversation gets dropped, until Viago can be sure that Anton can understand him, and instead he leads his little wolf back out of the bedroom and right back to his bedroom, sitting him up on the edge of the double bed.
As Anton walks, he considers the feel of the training pants around him, the resistance formed between his legs as he walks back to his room. It’s not bad, not at all, and rather fulfils its requirement to help him feel more safe; more secure. It crinkles beneath him as he sits on the edge of the bed, forming a soft cushioning beneath him. He doesn’t mind the feel of it at all, it turns out.
Viago returns to him with a large shirt, and gently pulls it over his head and arms. “Good boy,” he murmurs as he pulls Anton’s arms through the sleeves, “Nice work.”
Anton absolutely preens at the praise, smiling goofily up at Viago as he flutters around the room.
He hadn’t known that feeling small could ever be so…. nice . He’d limited his experiences to sitting between Clifton and Stu on his battered old couch and had never entertained the thought that there could be any sort of enjoyment outside of that. He’d seen others enjoy their smaller persona, had sat there with them and watched as they relaxed and played and had a good time, but had never considered that that was something he could also revel in.
Until now, of course.
He’s a bit tired, even after sleeping all day, and isn’t up to play fetch or chasings like the rest of his pack usually does. Anton sways back and forth as he sits on the edge of the bed, his exhaustion beginning to creep back up on him again.
Viago swoops back over from the corner of the room where he’d unpacked some of his bag, some toys and other soft things that Anton couldn’t make out from behind his drowsy eyes, and gently scoops up Anton from under his arms. He brings Anton back to his usual spot on the bed, resting his head on the pillow as he gently sets him down.
Anton had assumed that Viago was going to dress him more, to actually give him some pants, but he decides that maybe he likes how vulnerable it makes him feel, how much the sensation makes him want to lean into Viago and let the vampire protect him.
Viago seats himself beside Anton on the bed, pressing his front flush against Anton’s back. “Are you feeling tired, my love?” Viago murmurs into the back of Anton’s neck.
Anton nods, keeping his eyes open with a struggle and un uneven blinking pattern. It usually took a good few days to get his sleep back to normal after a full moon, and he definitely wasn’t anywhere near normal yet.
“I’m sorry, mein welpe schatz, that we cannot play much more, but how nice for you to have a big nap, ja?”
Anton nods, pressing back into Viago’s hold as the vampire’s arms come to circle around him.
He’d enjoyed playing, even when they’d played so little, and was already looking forward to Viago coming over again.
“I will stay here for your nap, alright pup? But I must leave at sunrise, so don’t be alarmed. I’ll come back as soon as it’s safe for me and I’ll be with you again.” Viago murmurs, scratching light circles onto Anton’s scalp with his fingernails.
“M’kay.” Anton mumbles past his pacifier, letting his eyes slip closed.
He’d been hesitant at first, regarding the pacifier, but he rather enjoys the steady weight on his tongue as he rhythmically sucks on the soft rubber nipple. He usually falls nonverbal when he slips and finds it hard to justify staying silent - he always feels an obligation to be bigger and better than he actually is - but the pacifier gives him all the excuses he needs to stay silent as Viago pats his hair and scratches behind his ears.
“You did so well today, niedlichkeit,” Viago whispers, gently kissing Anton’s damp but furiously cleaned mop of hair, “I’m very proud of how brave you are.”
Anton hums in Viago’s hold, slipping further and further away from consciousness. He vaguely registers the feeling of Viago gently pulling the duvet out from underneath him and then tucking it over top of them both. The soft weight is just enough to drag him to sleep, and he clings onto Viago’s hands - wrapped firmly around his torso - with a clawing grasp.
“You can go off to sleep now, schläfriger Welpe,” Viago says, revelling in the steady thrum of Anton’s heartbeat beneath his touch, “I’ll be here.”
“‘Love you, mama.” Anton breathes, settling into sleep in Viago’’s grasp and losing the last of his consciousness.
Viago pauses, takes a breath he doesn’t need, and brings his hands up from Anton’s torso to gently cup his cheeks, running his thumbs over the soft warm skin. “Mine.” He murmurs, tipping his head to rest against the side of Anton’s.
“Ja, ja, ich kann deine Mutti sein.” He whispers, shaking hands tracing the skin over Anton’s cheeks.
He holds Anton close, and listens intently to the soft pitter patter of Anton’s racing heartbeat, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and falls so deeply in love with this small, tiny, Anton.