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Viago hasn’t felt excitement like this in years .
He’s heard of Pride before, has seen clips of colourful parades and fireworks and people being completely themselves. The music has kept him awake through the day before, and even with it dulled to a low hum Viago couldn’t rest, eyes staring blankly into the dark of his coffin, wishing he could be around people like him - human people like him. The thought made him ache, and Viago ended up idly wondering if even after four-hundred years he’ll ever stop losing things to the night. There isn’t much pride to be found in the shadows; Viago knew where he truly belonged.
And then they met the werewolves.
Anton in particular was horrified that they hadn’t been to such an event, and the werewolves are in a peculiar position where they have a certain amount of sway with both the human and the supernatural community. They managed to organise a night time event as well as the typical human one during the day, and even convinced some of the local supernaturals to attend.
It hadn’t taken much with his coven. Nick was already going, Vladislav loved a party and Deacon didn’t need much of an excuse to dress up.
Viago knew he would go the second Anton asked, simply because it was Anton asking.
So he’s in Anton’s house, in Anton’s bedroom , watching Anton try and fail to tame his hair as he potters around, shirtless, and impossibly distracting . Viago can barely keep his eyes from Anton, even though he knows he should be getting ready too.
But Anton - he’s gorgeous . Utterly divine, with his broad shoulders and thick arms dusted in coarse hair. His chest, with his pink, perfectly biteable nipples and the two matching scars curved underneath, fading but visible.
When he finally pulls on a shirt, Viago has to bite back a whine in protest.
The shirt is pretty, though. One panel is a baby pink, the other pastel blue. The short sleeves are white to match the breast pocket and the buttons, which Anton slowly unbuttons until his hairy chest and soft stomach are visible again. Viago is immediately grateful for the view, but confused as to why Anton would choose such a vastly different colour palette on a day which Viago had assumed was more vibrant.
“That is an interesting choice of colours, Anton. What drew you to it?”
Anton is immediately pink, the colour travelling down his neck and dusting his chest. Viago can see the pulse in his neck fluttering, even from his position perched on the edge of the bed; he wants to walk across and taste it on his tongue.
“Oh, shit. Well - how do I explain this to a vampire.” The last part is whispered, even though Anton knows Viago can hear him. He turns on his heel and meets Viago’s gaze, chest pushed out in a display of confidence Viago isn’t convinced Anton actually feels. “Sometimes, when doctors deliver babies, they say ‘it’s a boy’ or ‘it’s a girl’. And then the kid grows up and realises… no, actually. They’re the opposite, or both, or something else. And it’s kind of like starting from scratch even though you’re the same person, you just know yourself better. It can be scary, and frustrating, but it’s also freeing… and that’s what happened with me, you know?”
Viago nods his understanding.
“I see. So, there are different colours to show different experiences then?”
Anton’s nose scrunches up in this maddeningly adorable way as he thinks.
“Kind of? There are flags for people who want them, depending on who they are and how they identify.” He gestures to his shirt with a trembling hand. “These are my flag colours, for being trans. Is that… okay?”
Even though Anton is a werewolf, a supernatural being, Viago can see his humanity bleeding through, that little flicker of uncertainty as he waits for Viago to respond. The tell-tale signs, his heavy breathing and the little hummingbird pitter of his frantic heart. Viago knows what it means; he’s experienced a lot of things in his long life, but this is one of the most familiar. Anton is a wolf, and a man. Sometimes he feels like both; sometimes he feels like neither. Humans are so… fragile . Caught up in their world of labels and morality, what it means to be and what it means to love - they are fascinating; they break Viago’s heart.
“Anton, I am very old.” He begins, because he knows this is important to Anton and he doesn’t want to seem like he’s invalidating the fear. Viago’s chest constricts painfully as he realises it’s definitely well-founded. “And it seems like now, humans think they invented the very concept of being…” He waves his arms around until he finds the word. “ Human .”
Anton stares, blinking stupidly at him as Viago slides from the bed and takes a tentative step forwards.
“Viago…” His voice wavers, and Viago doesn’t know if it’s necessarily a good idea but he does know that he wants , so he reaches out, almost faltering before he resolutely takes one of Anton’s hands into both of his own, marvelling at his warmth and strength, how easily his palm slides into Viago’s own.
“I have loved many people in my life, and lost even more. And some of those men,’ Viago squeezes Anton’s hand, eyes flicking between Anton’s, wide and hopeful and beautifully earnest. Viago thinks he might love him. ‘Were like you, little wolf. I can assure you, whether it be in friendship, or something more intimate, I have experienced men and women in lots of different forms, and I have loved all of them equally. Vladislav and Deacon have been the same. You are safe here, Anton.”
Viago hopes it’s a reassuring sentiment, even coming from a vampire. Anton’s lips have parted, and Viago focuses on his delicate huffs of breath, on the way his pulse flutters when Viago runs a cool thumb over Anton’s wrist. If his heart still beat, it would be increasing in speed then, because Anton already looks wrecked, eyes wide and blown dark, tongue sweeping along his bottom lip in a far too enticing way, and it makes Viago shudder that his words could have this kind of effect. He lets his mind wander for a moment, considers what his touch could do, and has to fight the urge to let his eyes roll back in his skull.
“You’re - absolutely incredible, you know that?” Anton murmurs, letting his free hand settle on the lapel of Viago’s jacket, drawing him in closer, closer , and Viago goes like it’s inevitable, as though every step and word and breath was leading them to this all along.
He closes his eyes, parts his lips as he dips his head down to meet Anton’s, anticipation thrumming in his veins, hotter and more vibrant than any blood has ever been. Viago feels almost human again.
Viago can feel the warmth of Anton’s skin, can almost taste it. If he tilts his head, angles down ever so slightly -
The doorbell rings, and the moment is broken.
Anton’s hand falls from Viago’s jacket like the denim has burnt him, cheeks flushed a delicious shade of pink that makes Viago’s fangs ache.
“I should probably -” He gestures vaguely to the hallway and Viago nods curtly, trying very hard to not let his disappointment show on his face.
Anon scurries away, quicker than necessary to answer the door, and Viago immediately leans against the wall to keep himself steady. He goes still, completely and inhumanly, eyes drawing closed with a shaky groan.
He knows better than this.
In almost four-hundred years of life, no romance has ever worked out for Viago. Some of it was his fault, of course, when he was younger, with far less control. Accidentally eating your partner does tend to cut a relationship short, but it doesn’t account for the people who left Viago for someone else. People who cheated, people who were taken by arranged marriages or illness or even just old age.
Lydia wasn’t different. Marco wasn’t different. Lance, Geoffrey, Melanie, Arthur, Troy. Katherine. None of them were different, in the end. It was foolish to think that Anton could ever be.
But - he already is . A werewolf alpha, although that particular detail could cause enough complications on its own, is strong and dependable and loyal. They have longer lifespans than average humans, are more resistant to supernatural attacks even without the full-moon, and they slot perfectly into Viago’s bizarre little world. It’s more than that, even. Practicalities aside, Anton is beautiful, and kind. He values the life of every single thing, even the undead, and is seemingly unphased by Viago’s strange habits and outdated customs, meets them beat for beat with his own idiosyncrasies.
It’s a bad idea, a terrible one -
Possibly the worst decision Viago’s made this turn of the century -
But Viago doesn’t think he loves Anton; he knows .
He sighs wistfully, lets the noise from the hallway draw him out of his thoughts and pull him into the present. This is his first Pride event, and he’s going to enjoy it with friends, and with Anton. Any and all thoughts about pretty alphas, how their hair catches moonlight, canines catching their bottom lip as they laugh, hands warm and gentle against Viago’s own - all of that can wait.
Viago’s feelings can wait .
He hopes.
The jeering grows absurdly louder, and Viago follows it to the source, excitement starting to build again at the evening to come.
It’s the werewolves, of course. The rest of the pack and Nick, who almost seems like a member by proxy at this point.
He’s met with greetings from everyone, loud and sincere and impossible feeling, given how their relationship with the pack started.
Viago was right to be excited; everyone looks incredible .
The werewolves are all wearing different, plain shirts in all the colours of the rainbow with an unbuttoned check shirt thrown over the top. The majority are in denim shorts, or jeans, and although this includes Clifton, his shirt is the only one with text on the front.
My body is a machine that turns dicks into sucked dicks .
He’s standing extremely close to Nick, who isn’t maintaining eye contact. Viago turns away, biting back a smile.
Stu hands out badges to everyone, a flag with the same colours as Anton’s shirt, and dutifully each man pins it to the front of his clothes. Finally, Stu approaches Viago, and offers him the final badge.
“We got another one, just in case.” Stu shrugs, and Viago takes the badge slowly, biting back a smile.
“Of course.”
He pins it to the breast pocket of his denim jacket, sandwiched between a little pink triangle and one Nick had given him which reads ‘all vampires are gay’. He looks across the room and sees a matching vampire badge on Nick’s own jacket.
Nick’s outfit is… the most peculiar, so far. The other vampires had been especially quiet about their chosen outfits, for once. There were no sketches or photographs or group reviews like there normally would be for an event like this, so Viago hadn’t been sure if he’d chosen correctly. A soft maroon dress shirt underneath his denim jacket, coupled with light wash denim jeans rolled at the cuffs. He’s wearing his nicest dress shoes, too, a little formal addition which makes the outfit feel that bit more him .
But Nick - Nick’s wearing a black coat which stretches all the way down to his knees. His naked legs are visible underneath, stretching down to a black pair of kitten heels. Nick’s also wearing a hat , a strange choice for this time of year even for vampires who won’t overheat. Despite the rainbow flag tied like a cape around his shoulders and the vampire badge pinned to him, Nick is still doing a terribly poor job at fitting in, in Viago’s estimations. He makes a note to have a word with Nick at a later date, and turns to face the group again.
When he scans the crowd, he sees Anton already looking at him, gaze flickering between the trans flag on Viago’s jacket to his face. His expression is… dazed. Awed and wanting, and Viago knows Anton feels the same way about him; that much is clear every single day. That also means Anton must understand why they can’t .
It doesn’t look like Anton is having much luck winning the war against his own self-restraint. Viago knows the feeling intimately.
“Right, do we have everything boys?” Declan shifts a duffle bag onto one shoulder and offers another one to Anton.
“I think so.” Anton’s eyes finally manage to pull away from Viago as he settles the bag firmly on his back. “I did an inventory this morning, the last things to pack are the water bottles in the fridge-”
“Which I have here!” Nathan G exclaims, walking into the room with stacks of water bottles piled in his arms.
The group cheer and Anton and Declan dutifully remove their bags to fit the drinks inside.
“Ready?” Anton breathes, eyes sparkling green and gold and gorgeous .
“I cannot wait.” Viago grins, careful not to flash his fangs, to other himself further.
Anton doesn’t seem to care either way. He rests a hand on Viago’s arm and squeezes it gently, and Viago tries to ignore the electricity surging through him at such a simple touch, powerful enough to kickstart his heart again, if given a chance. But Anton is there , again, hovering in Viago’s space like this is normal, like he belongs there.
Viago rather reckons he does.
“And the other vampires will meet us there?”
“You know how Declan and Vladislav love to make an entrance.”
Anton winces.
“Yeah, mate. I’ve gathered that.”
Viago laughs and Anton’s hand falls away. They file out of Anton’s house, one at a time, and head into town to join the celebrations.
Anton’s the last to leave, locking his front door as Viago waits for him, the rest of the pack and Nick trailing slightly further ahead. If Viago doesn’t pick up the pace to join the other group, if he enjoys simply spending time with Anton like this, almost alone but still together . Well - Anton doesn’t seem to have any complaints.
Viago was excited for the party, but looking at Anton bathed in moonlight, his pride colours glowing and his smile brighter still - Viago finds he doesn’t actually want the walk to end at all.
~’*’~
By the time they arrive, the party has already started.
The parade was in the day, but the stage remains and a drag queen sings Dolly Parton songs as a crowd gathers.
There are a litany of flags lining the streets, swaying with the breeze and the people and the pulsing music. The moonlight is mingling with strobe effects, and the streamers and confetti floating like fresh fresh snow dance in the air. It’s - breathtaking . Viago’s never seen anything quite like it.
The wolves stop to buy a plastic cup of beer from a stand and Viago regrets not bringing any alcohol blood with him. He didn’t realise it was custom to drink at events such as these, and he feels foolish, but Anton hangs back with him, making no move to get any alcohol.
Viago raises a brow at him, and Anton shrugs.
“Sober solidarity.” He gestures vaguely at Viago. “Besides, someone has to keep that lot in check.”
Viago notices Clifton with an arm already wound around Nick’s waist, with barely one drop of beer in his system, and agrees with Anton that it rather might be for the best.
Before he can comment, two bats appear in front of the group, shifting seamlessly into Viago’s housemates.
Suddenly, it becomes very clear why Deacon and Vladislav were so secretive with their outfits.
Vlad is wearing… not an awful lot. There are chains criss-crossing across his chest, looped around his throat and his waist. A leather collar snug underneath, matching his leather trousers and cap. Viago isn’t entirely what Deacon is truly wearing; his actual clothes are obscured by the massive rainbow fur coat he’s donned.
“It is not real fur.” He announces at the wolves, at Stu in particular, as he turns with his arms outstretched to show the full thing in all its multicoloured glory. “I dyed it myself, it is as authentic as the material will allow.”
“Mine is not real leather either, it is how you say - a substitute .” Vlad grins proudly, tipping his cap at Anton who scoffs.
They’ve come a long way since the beginning, and it’s warming for Viago to see his friends make some effort with the wolves. Declan and Nathan M are admiring Deacon’s coat as Stu nods his approval from a distance, and Clifton has finally let go of Nick for long enough to approach Vladislav and ask where he got his collar from.
Nick, however, is a lot less enthused by the display.
“You’ve ruined my reveal!” He glares at the other two vampires, who exchange curious, well-humoured looks.
Before anyone can ask. Nick throws his hat to the ground, and a long blonde wig falls from underneath. It’s tied in place with a bandana rolled from the New Zealand flag. And then he sheds his coat, and reveals a bralette and shorts in the same pattern. Nobody reacts for a good few seconds.
“What are you supposed to be?” Vlad asks.
“A clown, perhaps?” Deacon snickers, and Declan elbows him in the ribs.
Nick groans indignantly.
“I’m Lady Gaga from the Telephone music video!” He says it like they’re stupid for not getting it, like it’s obvious. Viago still doesn’t understand and wrinkles his nose.
“I don’t rate the shoes then, mate.” Nathan G sneers, and Nick throws up his hands in defence.
“Hey, I couldn’t find silver stilettos in the size I need them!”
“Then you are not using the same places as I am.” Vlad mutters. Viago chooses to ignore him.
“I think you look… interesting, Nick.” Viago aims for a polite smile, but the glare Nick shoots him doesn’t make him feel like he’s been successful.
“I do not know of this Lady Gaga. Is she local nobility?” Deacon asks, and Anton barely disguises a laugh behind a cough.
Clifton is looking at Nick like a dog who’s been offered a particularly juicy bone, so Viago exchanges a glance with Anton and they begin ushering the group further into the crowd, towards the music.
It’s… pleasant. Viago doesn’t know the songs, or the dances, but being surrounded by friends in a place so vibrant, so full of life , is more than he could have ever asked for.
He isn’t sure how long they dance for, in the end. The music all sounds similar to him, but he thinks the track changes four times before Anton grabs his wrist, laughing and utterly breathless , a flush spreading down his neck and over his chest. Viago is so distracted by the view, he doesn’t hear Anton speak the first time.
“Hm?”
“I said, come with me! I need to borrow you for a second.”
The group are so engrossed with dancing and drinking and living , Viago isn’t even sure they notice Anton pulling him away.
They end up at the edge of the bustling crowd, hardly a breath between them, as Anton smiles shyly down at his feet.
“I - ughhh. I made you something.” Anton’s pink all the way to his ears, shuffling from one foot to the other as he produces a small package from the back of his denim shorts.
Viago’s gaze flits from the purple square of paper to Anton’s face, and there’s a small beat of silence before he takes it from Anton’s palm, turning it between his fingers slowly.
“I admit… I feel unprepared now, Anton. You shouldn’t have.”
He would be blushing, if he could. Heart hammering and chest heaving because how is Anton so thoughtful ? Why would he expend so much energy thinking about a vampire, of all creatures? Viago is as astounded as he is touched, and looking at Anton doesn’t make either of those things any better because he’s just so earnest , wearing his heart on his sleeve even when the person he’s offering it to is - a monster.
“No! That’s okay, it’s just - it’s silly, really.” Anton looks like he’s about to explode on the spot, so biting back a smile Viago takes pity on him and opens the package.
When Viago peels back the paper, he isn’t entirely sure what he’s looking at. It’s a little circle of string, different threads all woven together to make a rainbow pattern. Viago has seen things like this before, usually for the wrist or the ankle, but it’s not his usual style. He’ll wear it, of course, because Anton made this with Viago in mind and that’s enough to have Viago’s head spinning for the next century.
But then Anton speaks, and Viago realises how very wrong he was with his immediate estimations -
“I know you can get a bit overwhelmed in big groups, so I thought if you wanted to enjoy the party in bat form, you should feel free to do that.”
- and how incredibly, deeply, stupidly in love he is.
“Oh… Anton .” There are tears clouding Viago’s vision, and the last piece of his control is hanging by a thread. He wants to hold Anton, drag him in by the collar of his shirt and kiss him until he’s almost as breathless as Viago. He wants to declare his love like the people he’s seen at the party, stand on stage and declare his attentions and then drag Anton home and fuck him until the sun rises.
Instead, Viago grins at Anton, can’t stop from presenting his fangs before he blurs into smoke and reforms his body into a bat.
It’s strange how natural and surreal it both feels in this form. It’s paradoxical, and bizarre, but incredibly freeing; Viago loves flying, loves the wind rushing past him in a blur and seeing the world from new, beautiful angles.
He flutters around Anton’s head, the little band of thread held between his tiny claws. Anton smiles at him softly, takes it from Viago and ties it neatly around his neck.
“There. Perfect.” He breathes, and all Viago can do is squeak in response, glad that Anton can’t hear the repeated I love you I love you I love you whilst in the bat form.
Not wasting a moment, Viago flies up into the sky, takes refuge at the top of a building and looks down on the street below.
People are still dancing, still laughing, and Viago watches it all, eyes flitting from two men who are climbing on the stage and taking the microphone from the drag artist to two women kissing under the cover of the trees. One of the women is wearing the same colours as Anton. Viago smiles.
He wants that.
He’s spent so long thinking about what they can’t do, being a vampire and a werewolf and both being in charge of their respective group of friends, Viago hasn’t really considered what they can do. He wants what these other people have, to be himself and to be free after centuries of living in the shadows, prowling the dark because he didn’t think he deserved the light. Anton’s given him that freedom tonight; Viago wonders what else Anton would give him, if only he had the strength to ask.
The rainbow threads aren’t too tight around his neck and are lifted slightly by the wind, the moonlight catching their colours in a mesmerising kind of way, and Viago just admires them for a second. Even like this, impossible, soulless creature that he is, Anton made sure that he would still feel like a part of things. He made sure Viago belonged , and it’s such a human sentiment, it shouldn’t make tears threaten again, but it does. Maybe Viago can belong here, at these events with these people. Maybe Viago can belong with Anton, too.
Viago can’t wait anymore. He flies back down, doing a brief circuit around the square before he finds Anton again. Viago’s transformed back into a human before his feet have even touched the ground, and he pulls Anton in for a long, tight hug.
“Thank you, Liebling. That was very thoughtful.”
Anton hugs him back, warm and solid, chest heaving against Viago’s as his breath comes short and quick from such simple contact.
Viago draws back, barely an inch, and looks into Anton’s face.
Anton’s eyes are wide and sparkling, his lips parted and wet in a way that draws Viago’s gaze, makes him hungry for more than just blood. Anton is looking at Viago’s mouth as well, eyes trained to where his fangs peak from behind his lips, breath leaving him in a wordless shudder when Viago wets his lips with a deliberate swipe of his tongue.
For the second time that evening, he wonders if Anton is going to kiss him. For the first time, Viago is absolutely certain he wouldn’t stop him.
The song changes, and Anton’s hand slides down Viago’s arm, thumb brushing the soft skin of his wrist before he tangles their fingers together.
“Dance with me.” It’s a question, and a command, and Viago is nodding before he even has time to think.
The song is quick, upbeat and modern and not anything close to what Viago prefers. The group near the stage are jumping, cheering, dancing and singing along with the beat but Anton slows, bringing one hand to Viago’s waist and the other to his chest, drawing Viago in close. Viago lets both his hands fall to Anton’s hips, and tries not to focus on how right it feels to hold him this way as Anton starts to sway them.
It’s too slow for the song, too close and too intimate - and it’s perfect . Viago can feel the huff of Anton’s breath on his neck, uneven and warm, and he shudders with it, drawing him closer until their hips are almost touching.
Anton gasps, a sound undetectable to anyone other than Viago, his palm trailing from Viago’s chest, lingering on the trans pin, to his shoulder, then to the back of his neck. His fingers toy with the baby hairs there, and Viago’s eyes fall shut at the simple touch, a noise leaving his throat far needier than Viago intends.
It makes Anton freeze, and Viago worries wildly if he’s messed everything up, if he’s been misreading everything and if Anton doesn’t actually -
“Viago.” Anton whispers, and it takes a moment for Viago to find the courage to meet his gaze. “I would really like to kiss you. Is that - Can I?”
Viago’s eyes go wide. He swallows around a dry throat, nods viciously as if he was ever going to say anything but yes .
When Anton’s lips meet his, it’s a revelation, and a damnation. Viago doesn’t know how he’s going to be capable of anything but this from now on, from the soft push, the gentle pull; from Anton’s heat and his tenderness and all the ways he makes Viago feel alive .
His hand tightens at the back of Viago’s neck, drawing him in closer, and Viago parts his lips with a sigh. Anton moans against him, tongue teasing Viago’s bottom lip, searching for permission Viago willingly gives. He strokes his tongue against Anton’s, shivers when Anton whines , and it’s like they’re the only two people there. The music could have skipped through at least ten songs, and the crowd could have scattered and packed up around them, and Viago would still not notice, lost in the sensation of Anton’s mouth against his.
When Anton shifts his weight, hips pressing in close, tempting, daring , Viago breaks away with a gasp.
“Mein Liebling, I am afraid if we do not stop now I will end up doing something utterly indecent to you in public.” Viago’s voice is low, threatening, and Anton moans against his neck.
“You say it like that’s a bad thing.” Anton mutters, and his raspy voice is nothing compared to his flushed cheeks and hooded, hazy eyes.
Viago mutters a curse under his breath and lifts Anton’s chin with his fingers, kissing him again, and again, until Anton is panting, fingers pressing harder into Viago’s skin.
“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that for.” Viago sighs against Anton’s lips, and Anton barks out a laugh.
“I think I might have some idea, mate.”
His eyes are bright and sparkling as he looks into Viago’s face, and Viago feels foolish in ever thinking this was something Anton wouldn’t want.
“I love you.” Viago blurts, and Anton's smile grows wider, almost impossibly so.
“Took you long enough to say it.” Anton stands on his tiptoes and presses his lips to the shell of Viago’s ear. “I love you too, Vi.”
It shouldn’t be so utterly earth-shattering to hear, shouldn’t make Viago wish for a beating heart just so he can feel it race at Anton confirming everything he’s ever wanted in four easy words. He’s dizzy with it, blood humming through his veins as he holds Anton tighter, not daring to let go in case reality shatters and it all ends up being a dream.
But it’s not a dream.
Anton leans back and brushes Viago’s hair from his forehead, lip caught between his teeth in a rather distracting way.
“What do we do now?” Viago asks, and Anton presses his hips deliberately into Viago’s.
“Well, I think I was promised something utterly indecent, in private maybe?” Anton blinks up at Viago through his lashes, and Viago grins, letting his fangs drop as he grazes them against Anton’s bottom lip.
“I think I can deliver on that promise, darling.”
Anton doesn’t waste a moment before taking Viago’s hand, dragging him through the crowd of people until they’re racing, running through the night, bathed in moonlight and shadows. They belong there, but as the rainbow decorations continue to line the streets, Viago thinks they belong in the light, too.
Anton squeezes his hand, refusing to let go, and Viago decides once and for all that they can have both; that he’s allowed to ask for both.
Light and dark, Anton and Viago. It’s devastatingly human and decidedly inhuman all at once, and the contradiction doesn’t make it any less real, doesn’t make Viago feel any less happy .
He squeezes Anton’s hand right back, letting Anton lead him through the night and back to his den, knowing with unwavering certainty that he’ll follow Anton anywhere, for the rest of his long life, if Anton will have him.
Knowing that Anton will have him, always and forever.