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There’s a new restaurant in town, one which only opens from dusk until dawn. In a city with such a startlingly large supernatural population as Wellington, it’s extremely popular. Viago manages to get reservations on a Monday, because apparently that’s their least busy night, and it surprises Anton because, well - Viago doesn’t eat. Can’t eat, rather. So he doesn’t really understand the appeal of a restaurant setting outside of the food. But when he brings it up with Viago, the vampire smiles, slow and dangerous until his fangs are glinting in the light.
“It is a restaurant run by witches, Anton. I can assure you my needs will be catered for.”
So Anton shrugs, and doesn’t bring it up again.
It’s nice in a way that feels distinctly human , too, getting excited about a date, spending hours preening and pampering until Anton feels fit to be seen on Viago’s arm. It’s - normal. Intimate and domestic and, shit, Anton loves it. He just does , deep in his heart and his stomach and his bones, every layer of his flesh and muscle and DNA, all of it contains love for Viago, and what they have together. He almost feels sick with it, in the best possible way.
And then Anton sees Viago, and everything just - stops.
He’s always known that Viago is beautiful, as a fact it’s sort of fucking difficult to miss, but he’s never seen Viago like this . He’s wearing a mixture of different eras and fabrics, slim-fitting black trousers with a black, billowing satin shirt with lace-trimmed sleeves, tucked in at the waist. Over the top is a waistcoat in wine red, and Viago has a pea coat slung over one arm. It’s black, too, but the lining has a tartan pattern in maroon and grey with a hint of blue. It’s the same shade as the sapphires on Viago’s fingers, the moon-shaped brooch pinned to his cravat.
Viago’s curls are more styled than usual, showing off his impressive jawline and pretty brown eyes. He’s an absolute vision, the most beautiful man Anton has ever seen by a long, long way. And he makes Anton feel criminally underdressed. Even in his new, expensive suit - which Anton knows hugs his arse and his arms because he can already see Viago staring - he feels… not inadequate , but also. Not not that. But his suit is a similar shade of blue, and it makes him happy in a way that Anton could never imagine that they match, even accidentally.
“You’re… wow. Utterly breathtaking, Vi. Just - yeah. Fucking beautiful.”
Viago giggles, then, and Anton crosses the room, cupping his face and drawing him in for a quick kiss. It’s far more chaste than he wants, but he also knows how hard Viago worked to get these reservations, and he doesn’t want to get carried away. They do kind of have form in that particular area.
“You are one to talk, Anton. You look incredible.” He runs his fingers over the open collar of Anton’s white shirt, and frowns. “I think there’s something missing though.”
Anton raises a brow, curious but not insecure, as Viago roots around in the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a long satin box. Anton’s eyes snap up to Viago’s, and he takes the box offered to him wordlessly. Inside is a tie in the same tartan pattern as the inside of Viago’s coat, and when his fingers brush across the top Anton gasps at the soft feel of silk.
“Vi… you really didn’t have to.” Anton tries not to get emotional, but there’s a tremor in his voice and a wetness to his complexion that he knows Viago notices.
“I know I didn’t have to, darling.” Viago takes the box from Anton’s fingers and places it to the side, slipping the tie out and facing Anton with a smile. “But I enjoy giving you nice things. And I knew you would look lovely in this.”
Anton’s heart races as Viago lifts his collar, pinky fingers brushing against the skin of his throat, where the pink marks of Viago’s fangs are (unfortunately) beginning to fade. He steps in close, close enough that Anton can see each individual gold fleck of Viago’s eyes swimming within the pretty brown, and Anton just stares and stares and stares as Viago’s lithe fingers work the tie into a tidy knot.
“There you are. Perfect.” Viago bites his lips, forcing back a smile, and Anton is near hyperventilating by the time Viago runs his hands over the tie, tucking it under the buttons of Anton’s jacket.
Anton can’t help it, really.
He surges forward and crashes his lips against Viago’s. Anton knows he needs to keep it quick, and clean - it wouldn’t be the first time he’s ended up with Viago’s cock in his mouth instead of going on their actually planned date - but it’s so hard when Viago moans against his mouth, tongue running along the seam of Anton’s lips, expecting him to part them -
But he doesn’t, not this time.
Exercising more self-control than Anton has ever needed in his life, Anton steps away from Viago, ignoring the needy whine which tears from the vampire’s throat at the loss of contact, and checks his watch.
“Shit, we need to leave in a minute, Vi.”
There’s a moment where Anton thinks Viago might protest; his lip juts out and his eyes drag over Anton’s body enticingly, but he lets it go with a sigh, pulling on his jacket and holding out his arm for Anton to take.
“Shall we?”
Anton’s blushing all the way to the tips of his ears, not totally used to this casual kind of intimacy but never willing to turn it down. He takes Viago’s offered arm and takes a moment to appreciate Viago’s smaller frame, how cool he is compared to Anton, how they are complete opposites and yet fit totally, perfectly, together.
“Let’s go, love. I’m starving!”
~ * ~
It’s a short journey to the restaurant from Anton’s house, only ten minutes or so with how quickly the two of them walk. They end up arriving early for their table, which Anton thinks is only polite anyway; he would much rather wait and be on time than have minimum wage workers wait around for him .
The interior is nice , too. The lights have been dimmed, presumably for the comfort of people who don’t have blood on the menu, the tables all have clothes in various jewel tones and there are real candles in the centre. It’s the most intimate restaurant Anton has ever been to, and he’s a little nervous that he’s here with Viago. He feels like a teenager, on a first date with a highschool crush rather than an almost-divorcee on the less favourable end of forty, and he marvels for a moment that Viago is still able to make him feel this way, even after a couple extremely happy years together.
Someone comes to take Viago’s coat and hangs it in a sectioned-off area by the door, and then they’re stood, still linked together, waiting to be shown to their table.
“Oh! I made the reservations in your name, Anton.”
Anton smirks. “Well, I don’t imagine your full name would fit in their text box, love.”
“Ha! You are very funny.” Viago’s trying to frown but the twitch at the side of his lip gives him away. He knows Anton loves his infuriatingly long name that took him a little too long to learn how to spell, the same as he loves everything else about the vampire.
The waiter approaches them with a forced smile, the kind Anton remembers from his days working at the BBQ Factory - his returning smile is sympathetic as fuck. Anton loves his job now, and would never go back to boring middle-management work unless it was absolutely necessary.
“Mr and Mr… Anderson, is it?”
Immediately, Anton’s brain fuzzes out to nothing but static.
Viago Anderson. He hasn’t… he’s never even allowed himself to think of the possibility. Because, the living can’t marry the dead, and he’s separated but not legally divorced, and it’s just - too good. They don’t get to have things like that. They’re monsters .
But… now it’s in his head, Anton knows there’s no shaking it. The wolf is already perking up in interest, prowling around his mind, restless because he should claim Viago in every way that he can. And what’s more intimate than that , putting his name to Viago, taking Viago’s in return, intertwining their very identities forever. The supernatural community can recognise their claiming marks, but the entire world knows what two rings and a shared last name means.
And, shit. Anton wants that.
He’s been quiet for too long, the poor waiter staring at him like he’s an idiot who doesn’t know his own name. Anton can feel the heat in his cheeks, and he knows he’s breathing heavily. It’s embarrassing, but he’s too caught up in Viago-fucking-Anderson to really give a shit, honestly.
“Hallo! We are the Andersons, that is correct. May we please be shown to our table?” Viago slips around Anton smoothly, smiling at the waiter who nods.
Viago doesn’t look at Anton, not whilst they’re weaving through the patrons eating (or just drinking), or when they take their seats. Not when they’re given menus or when they’re brought a complimentary bread basket and blood appetisers.
And then the waiter leaves, and they’re alone, and finally Viago turns to face him.
“Mr and Mr Anderson.” He breathes, eyes wide and wet and sparkling, and Anton knows if Viago is feeling even a shred of what he is about people thinking they’re married, the vampire must be half mad with it by now.
“Shit, Vi… Sorry I flailed back there. It kind of took me out for a second.”
Viago raises a brow, brings one of the shot glasses of blood to his lips.
“I saw that, darling. I couldn’t tell if you were happy or sad about the assumption.” He slams his head back, revealing the pretty line of his marked throat just peeking over the collar and cravat, and downs the blood.
Anton surges forward, takes Viago’s wrist between his hand and pulls the vampire towards him, across the table.
“Vi, the thought of marrying you completely reworked my brain… I don’t know how I can not propose to you, even though I know it’s silly. Impossible, even.” He runs his fingers over Viago’s palm softly, making a path until he can slot their hands together. “I love you, mate. And I want you in every way that I can have you.”
Viago’s eyes are lidded, and glassy, and there’s a smile on his lips he just doesn’t seem able to fight.
“I do not think it is silly, little wolf. And we both know a thing or two about being impossible, given what we are.” Viago bites his bottom lip, Anton’s focus narrowing in on the way his fangs catch on flesh, pulling until it almost breaks the skin.
Anton can hear the ocean in his ears, every sound crashing into a cacophony where nothing else matters, or even exists, that isn’t Viago, and his words.
He’s staring into Viago’s face, searching for what this could mean - if it could ever mean anything. And Anton hopes it will, hopes with every piece of his heart and his humanity that he can make Viago his in every single sense.
“Viago, are you saying what I think -”
“I am saying, darling, that this is a conversation we should have at another time. Less public, perhaps.” He giggles, rubbing his thumb along the side of Anton’s hand. “But it is one we are allowed to have. Nobody can stop us, Anton.”
There’s heat everywhere, in Anton’s cheeks and in his stomach and behind his eyes. He’s still speechless, throat bobbing uselessly as Viago pulls his hand free from Anton’s and looks from side-to-side, checking nobody is watching before he slides a gold-sapphire ring from his middle finger and slips it quickly onto Anton’s ring finger. It’s a little bit tight, and takes some force, but Anton doesn’t really notice any discomfort when Viago’s just given him a ring .
“A married man shouldn’t walk around without a ring. I cannot have people thinking they have a chance with my husband.” Viago looks up at Anton through his lashes and fuck , Anton isn’t sure why this whole thing is doing it for him, but it definitely is.
His cock is filling fast, the wolf’s possessive streak (and Anton’s, if he’s being honest), pleased to claim and to be claimed in return. Anton wants to grab Viago by his shoulders, spin him around and bury himself face first between Viago’s arse, and he’s already half-way to standing, claws sliding over his fingernails and reaching for Viago when -
“Are you ready to order?”
They both jump, and Anton stumbles back into his seat as they snap back into reality. Anton is breathing hard, face flushed, and Viago is watching him closely, eyes sparkling and mischievous and not leaving Anton’s face, even when he speaks.
“Actually, we were hoping to just have the bill, if that is possible.”
“You haven’t actually bought anything -”
Anton digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. There are a couple crumpled twenty dollar notes in the back, and Anton throws four onto the table.
“It’s a tip, then. In case you don’t fill the table.”
They don’t give the poor, confused waiter any time to argue before they’re weaving back through the tables and grabbing Viago’s coat.
Adrenaline is practically thrumming through Anton now, his brain moving ahead to what happens next, when he gets Viago into his den, splays him out on the fancy silk sheets Anton bought just because Viago liked the texture. When he can taste Viago on his tongue, feel him between his legs, take him apart slowly because that’s what husbands do -
The cooling air outside has barely hit Anton’s face before he’s being manhandled down the alleyway, behind the restaurant.
“Shit, Vi.” He gasps when his back hits a cold brick wall, and then Viago is on him, pressing kisses along his jaw, teeth catching deliberately across Anton’s neck.
“Do you know how you look, darling? With my bite mark still on your skin.” Viago kisses the little pinprick for emphasis, and Anton shudders under the attention. “And my ring on your finger. People know that you are mine , Anton.”
Viago’s fingers are digging into Anton’s skin, over his clothes but the bite is still there, and his hips are moving in small, aborted movements. There’s a growl forming in Anton’s throat, and he’s flipped them before Viago can even protest. Anton is ripping off the brooch, tearing at Viago’s cravat, being careful enough not to actually rip the fabric but still desperate; wanting.
“You wanna fucking compare , Vi? You’re literally waltzing around with an alpha’s claiming bite - my mark - for everyone to see.”
“Shit, Anton - we have to go home.” Viago cuts off with a whine when Anton tugs on his earlobe, grinding the hot length of his cock against Viago’s trembling thigh.
“I - I don’t know if I can, love. I need you.” Anton’s growl turns into a keen when Viago forces his head back with two strong hands rooting in his hair.
Viago already looks wrecked , curls displaced and eyes blown black. His jaw is slack and Anton knows he’d be panting now, if he needed to breathe.
“Don’t you want to make love to your husband in our marital bed, darling?”
And it might be strange, or embarrassing, but Anton almost blacks out through how badly he wants . Even the way Viago rolls the word over his tongue has Anton shuddering, and all he can manage is a stunted nod before he’s grabbing Viago by the hand and practically dragging the vampire back towards the house.
They walk in silence, a tension building between them which isn’t unfamiliar, but is still… new, somehow. Not fragile, but blinding and brilliant, something that holds a promise for a tomorrow which Anton never dared even imagine.
It’s the longest ten minutes of Anton’s life, and despite the fire and the desperation and the near feral need to claim which has been rattling around inside Anton’s skull since the waiter assumed Viago’s last name, when they finally reach his front door, Anton pauses.
“What is wro- oh!”
Anton turns and lifts Viago into his arms, bridal style.
“What are you doing ?” Viago giggles, clinging to Anton’s blazer with one hand and letting the other rest around Anton’s shoulder.
Anton kisses him quickly, tries very hard to not get distracted, and keeps their noses touching when he replies.
“I’m carrying my husband over the threshold of our house, Viago.”
He says it like it’s obvious, like this isn’t some ridiculous roleplay they’ve both gotten worked up over. But his heart is hammering in his chest and Anton knows Viago can feel it. If the way Viago’s eyes fly open and his mouth snaps shut is any indication, the vampire doesn't mind. And then Anton sees Viago’s cock straining against his fancy dinner trousers and reckons it’s quite the opposite, actually.
Shifting Viago’s weight so he can hold him with one hand - a display of strength which has Viago gasping, and clinging tighter to him - Anton fishes his keys from his pocket and fumbles with the door.
Thankfully, it only takes two attempts for the key to take, and then they’re stumbling through the threshold, the door barely slamming shut behind them before Viago’s mouth is on Anton’s neck, sucking and biting as Anton carries him straight through the house, upstairs, towards his bedroom. Their bedroom. Anton groans.
He settles Viago gently on the bed, and the vampire’s hands are already undoing Anton’s tie, threading it along his collar and dropping it to the floor. Anton grunts at the sight, wanting his gift from Viago to be looked after, but Viago’s working open his shirt and pulling on his blazer and it’s only then that Anton notices the way Viago’s eyes are entirely blown black, and how his chest his heaving when he doesn’t even need to take a breath.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, cupping Viago’s face with one hand and undoing his cravat with the other.
“And you, Liebling. You are utterly divine always, but tonight more than ever.” Viago takes Anton’s hand and presses his lips directly over the ring. The ring that he put there.
The wolf is snarling in Anton’s mind to pin his boyfriend - husband - down and take him hard and fast, but the man has other ideas.
Anton slips another ring from Viago’s hand and places it two fingers along, where it should be.
“I reckon this marriage thing goes both ways, love. Need everyone to know that you’re my mate - my husband . Just… you’re mine, Viago. Nobody else can have you.”
There’s a brief moment where the room falls completely still - totally silent.
And then the tension building all evening snaps .
Viago moves with inhuman speed, flipping their positions so Anton is pinned to the bed with Viago’s thigh between his knees, spreading his legs to make room for the vampire. Viago’s mouth is on his as he frantically undresses Anton, throwing his clothes haphazardly around their bedroom. When his lips mouth at Anton’s jaw, hot and wet and perfect, Viago starts talking, the words pouring out of him like he’s effortless to stop them.
“Of course I’m yours, you silly, impossible wolf.” Viago’s tongue dips under Anton’s jaw, laves over his collarbone. “I have never been anyone else’s, not like this. My alpha… and husband.”
Anton’s hips jerk up at Viago’s words, cock grinding into Viago’s knee where it’s still trapped beneath his clothes.
“Shit, Vi. I need -”
“You need me to fuck you, hard and fast. Don’t you, darling?” Viago rubs his thumb along Anton’s bottom lip before pulling it down.
Anton swallows hard, and is helpless to do anything else but nod.
When Viago smiles, it’s slow and dangerous; predatory, even, fangs glinting in a way which catches Anton’s breath. Viago pulls him out of his slacks, Anton rips off Viago’s shirt and watches as Viago unbuttons his trousers, mouth watering at the slow drag of the zip, knowing what it means . He has an almost Pavlovian response to the sound, now; his cock is already leaking.
“Look at you.” Viago murmurs, settling back on his haunches to stare at Anton, naked and flushed and wanting . He reaches forward and swipes one finger through the wetness drooling from Anton’s tip. “All for me?”
Anton’s back arches from the bed. “All yours, Viago. Always.”
Viago kisses the inside of his knee, teeth only scraping a little.
“Roll over for me.”
Anton does as he’s told, elbows on the mattress, arse in the air. He reaches back and spreads his cheeks, smirking at the strangled noise Viago makes behind him.
By the time Viago has rifled through the draw, uncapped the lube, warmed it on his fingers, and dipped the bed with his weight again, Anton is practically trembling in anticipation. He’s panting hard, clenching and unclenching his hole, desperate to just be filled already.
“Relax, mein Liebling.” Viago’s hand presses against his lower back, and Anton feels the cool touch of his ring and does the absolute fucking opposite of relax. But he knows Viago can’t fuck him like this, so he forces an exhale, makes his muscles go pliant, and flushes red when Viago starts cooing praise at him.
“You’re so good for me, Anton. I love you so much, darling. Beautiful, impossible creature that you are.”
Viago traces Anton’s rim with two slicked fingers, and Anton presses back into the touch.
“Please, Vi. I can’t -”
“Hush, little wolf. I have you.”
Viago pushes both fingers inside at the same time, stretching Anton exactly how he likes, the pressure and the burn so intoxicating, Anton can feel tears stinging his eyes from how good it is. They don’t have sex like this as often as Anton would like, but he enjoys fucking Viago too much to ever really complain. But this , being stretched open and filled by the man he loves (his mate, lis love, his husband - husband husband husband ) is something so special, and intimate, and it feels - fucking incredible. Anton’s barely adjusted to the first two fingers before he’s begging for the next.
The third finger is a revelation, with Anton so full Viago hardly has to curl his fingers up to brush over Anton’s prostate, and the little sparks of pleasure are getting to be too much, even with Viago’s soft kisses and gentle caresses - maybe because of them. And then Viago adds a fourth finger, and Anton is practically sobbing into the covers underneath, grinding back onto Viago’s hand as he pumps his fingers in and out, pulls them apart, curls them up. He’s taking Anton apart in every way he knows how - and it’s working . The heat in Anton’s gut is exploding like fireworks everywhere now. He can feel it in his toes, behind his eyelids where they’re screwed shut. Anton can feel it in his breath, in his bones, this deep love for Viago, this need he didn’t know he was even capable of.
“Viago - shit . I don’t wanna cum like this, please…”
Viago hums his agreement, lets his lips linger on the small of Anton’s back for a moment before he’s pulling his fingers free. The cold emptiness has Anton whining, hands clenched in the sheets as his thighs shake, body thrumming with electricity and anticipation as he hears the lube being opened again, the slick sounds of Viago working his own cock, the slight gasp he lets out when he plays with the head -
“ Viago .”
Viago huffs a laugh, sounding almost breathless, impossible as that is. “I know, darling. I feel it as well.”
And the thought of Viago being as desperate for this as Anton, of Viago falling apart just from touching him - it has a strange panic prickling on the surface of Anton’s skin. He rolls onto his back, eyes wet and cheeks flushed, searching for Viago hungrily.
“Need to see you, Vi.”
And what a sight Viago is, curls ruffled to absolutely disarray, all pretty pallid skin and long limbs, cock flushed purple and dropping with its own weight between his thighs.
Something shines in Viago’s eyes then, and he nods, speechless, crawling between Anton’s legs so he can kiss the absolute breath from him.
Anton’s legs wrap around Viago’s waist on instinct as their tongues brush, moaning into the sensation as calm washes over him again.
The blunt pressure of Viago’s cock against his rim startles Anton, and he breaks their kiss to moan against Viago’s cheek, one hand rooting in Viago’s hair, the other reaching around to grab at Viago’s arse, drawing him in quicker until the vampire stills his movements altogether.
“I will not hurt my husband on our wedding night, Anton.” He tries to scold, but the noise he makes is obscene when he feels Anton’s cock jerk from his words alone.
Anton didn’t know it could be like this. Sex with Viago was always great - fucking mindblowing, actually - and it was intimate and sweet as much as it was rough and frantic, but this… As Viago presses inside him, one delicious inch at a time, their eyes don’t break contact and Anton is struck with the very real feeling that they’re making love .
Viago isn’t even moving , his hips are flush with Anton’s body but he’s just leaning over him, inhaling the scent from his hair - something which makes the wolf inside very happy - kissing the tears from Anton’s cheeks that he didn’t even know he was shedding.
“Make love to me, Viago.” He whispers, voice hoarse and thick and Viago shudders, nodding, grinding his hips right where Anton needs him most.
“Oh you feel incredible, darling.” Viago whines, and Anton can’t even respond. His cock is painfully hard, he’s being fucked perfectly full and the pressure on his prostate has him seeing stars behind his eyelids. Anton is overwhelmed in the best way, and he tips his head back, moaning Viago’s name over and over, rolling his hips down as Viago starts thrusting up.
The pace is slower than usual for them, but no less frantic. There’s a barely settled urgency behind every movement, every word and caress and sigh as Viago drives him closer and closer to the edge.
Anton can see the ring Viago gave him shining between Viago’s curls where he’s gripping them, and he can feel the cool metal on his waist where Viago is holding him still, fucking into him harder now, deeper. He feels so connected to Viago, so deeply cherished and adored that it borders on too much. Even as a human, Anton didn’t think he deserved this, and now? He’s killed people, taken lives like it meant nothing, and sure it’s always been hunters, always been to protect Viago or the pack, but still… he’s a monster. A murderer. And there’s a vampire between his legs, whispering his name with such fondness, such reverence, and it’s beautiful. His relationship with Viago is everything, everything he never thought he could have and everything he ever dreamed of and just - everything.
He loves him. That’s all there is . Anton loves Viago and he wants to be with him and claim him and he wants everyone to know that Viago is his .
“I love you. I love you so much, Vi.” His voice breaks and Viago rests their foreheads together, hips still driving wildly into Anton, the slick noises of where their bodies are joined growing louder and louder.
Viago links their fingers, presses a kiss to the side of Anton’s mouth.
“And I love you, Anton. Always. My husband, my everything.”
Whatever little control Anton had left shatters into a million, beautiful and blinding pieces then, the pleasure surging through him as he cums untouched, cock spasming as he groans, hands tightening in Viago’s hair. The little prick of pain is what pushes Viago over the edge too, and he cums deep inside Anton with a keen, hips rocking through it all until Anton falls into oversensitivity. And even then Viago doesn’t stop, and Anton doesn’t want him to; he wants to stay connected to Viago like this forever. And then he looks into Viago’s eyes, still lidded and hazy with bliss, and he remembers the rings, and Anton’s thinks it’s not an impossibility. And what an incredible thought that is.
Viago always seems to know exactly what he needs, and just collapses on top of him, the weight of him comforting. Feeling his cock soften inside Anton’s body is so intimate, Anton feels like crying again.
“I… think we need to talk about this.” Anton clears his throat but he still sounds wrecked. “Whenever you’re ready, love. Not now, maybe, but - soon.”
Viago hums into his chest, resting himself on his arms and looking up into Anton’s face.
“I agree, Liebling. I want you in every way that I can have you, but there is a lot to think about before we make any big decisions.”
Viago smiles at him, that special smile where his eyes crinkle and his fangs poke through which has Anton fall in love with him a little bit more every single time, and Anton is pretty certain that the decision is already made.
No matter what happens, no matter how difficult it is, Anton is going to be with Viago forever. In a vampire way; in a werewolf way.
And, if possible, in a human way too.