Work Text:
The clock on the wall reads 3:15. Dopfer lets out a frustrated sigh. He still has four more hours on his shift and he's falling asleep at the register basically.
Outside, what was previously a calm sprinkle had quickly evolved into a thunderous downpour. God he hopes he doesn't have to drive through that.
Dopfer takes a quick glance outside. No cars pulling up, in fact hardly any are out on the main road. Someone’d have to be out of their right mind to drive the rainy mountain pass like this anyway. So, with confirmation that he's surely alone, the man lets his eyes drift close as he leans back in his tall stool.
Not two minutes pass when he hears the whir of the sliding doors crack open. He hadn't even heard a car pull up!
Annoyed, he cracks open an eye.
Perusing the aisles with his back firmly to Dopfer, is a man. He's tall, dark haired, clad in the most eccentric black jacket that Dopfer could only describe as akin to that of a cloak or robe. Furlined around the collar and small velvety red details. He also looks blissfully dry.
Conveniently, the man never does face Dopfer in all of his exploration of the store. And anytime he does sort of face the counter he is somehow obscured. Maybe it's for the best, Dopfer is definitely staring and would rather not get caught.
The man finally does approach the counter after ten or so minutes of browsing, and Dopfer finally gets a good look at the stranger.
His features are sharp enough to cut paper with pale skin that stretches over his high cheekbones. Black hair is slicked back neatly with one seemingly purposeful strand of hair that sticks out. Dark onyx black eyes seem to study Dopfer as he sets down his items to be rang up. His fingers are thin and bony, adorned with various golden rings that are furthermore decorated with rubies and other gems. They look… real. Real and expensive.
“Will that be all for today?”
“It will be, thank you.” His voice is heavily accented, something that Dopfer doesn't recognise from anywhere but also doesn't question. Plenty of different people come through this area after all.
“Thats $12.58, cash or card?”
A handful of coins, apparently. Dopfer stares at them in surprise before picking one up between his thumb and index fingers, turning it over and scratching at the metal. “Ah… is this gold, sir?” he asks cautiously.
“I believe so.”
“I'm uhm. Not sure we have change for this unfortunately.” he says and looks back up at the man.
The stranger shrugs then huffs as he digs back through the pocket of his absolutely absurd coat. He pulls out a crumpled twenty and hands it over before scooping his coinage back into his other hand.
When Dopfer tries to hand back the change for the real cash, the man shakes his head. “Keep that.” he says. He then turns on his heel and exits.
Well.
Working at a 24-hour gas station, he tends to meet some interesting characters. But this guy takes the cake for the week. Dopfer even turns to watch the stranger, bypasses the entire parking lot to begin walking down the highway. Rain pelting him all the way. He disappears into the curtain of fog rather quickly, leaving Dopfer entirely dumbfounded.
“What in the hell…” he mutters.
𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼
Dopfer promptly forgets about the entire ordeal within a day. He sleeps off most of the confusion and eats away the rest. Certain he will never see the crazed rich homeless man again, he goes to work as normal.
For a week.
On the eighth day, around one in the morning and a graceful break in the rain, the doors whir open. He looks up, expecting literally anyone but the man that walks in.
Tall, dark, and handsome. AGAIN.
Baffled, Dopfer has to double take to make sure he is really seeing what he is seeing. Sure enough- same guy, same coat, same tall frame, same elegant posture. Outside, there are no cars. Dopfer parks in the back of the station, and the last person he saw was a trucker who stopped in while gassing up to get some road snacks sometime around 11:00.
The stranger makes his way to the counter and sets down his items.
“Greetings.” he says simply, already pulling money from his coat pocket.
“Uh, that's about $16.30.” dopfer says, eyes quickly darting back up to the man.
He only smiles and hands over another twenty. This one is considerably more pristine. It looks fresh out of an ATM.
He sticks the bill into the register, but before he can even start to pull out change the guy says, “Oh, that will not be necessary.”
“You sure?”
“Certain.” The man gathers his items in his hands, gives Dopfer a wink that sends his heart racing in his chest, and is out the door.
Dopfer whips around to watch him go. He takes the same way he did a week ago, bypassing the empty lot to walk down the side of the highway.
“You cannot make this up…” Dopfer groans to himself and slides his hands roughly down his face, dragging at his eyes.
𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼
The pattern continues.
Every eight days, the stranger returns and gets a different assortment of items. For three weeks anyway. Because eight days becomes four. And then four becomes two and soon enough every night that Dopfer clocks in, the dark haired stranger shows up.
It's… a little weird.
They only ever engage in small talk. An out of place flirtatious comment every once in a while. The man also never gets anything worth more than twenty bucks and he never lets Dopfer give him his change back. There's one instance where he even encourages Dopfer to pocket the change. When the man declines, he finds a thick gold coin on the hood of his car when he leaves work.
It's sort of creepy. In a way that absolutely invigorates Dopfer. The cold chill that runs up his spine when they brush hands exchanging cash, the uneasy feeling in his gut that persists until the stranger shows up, the fact that Dopfer doesn't even know his name! It's all weirdly enticing to say the very least. It leads his intentions astray and makes him queasy.
On nights he isn't scheduled for work. Which are far and few, his thoughts stray to the tall man. When he sees a long dark coat at his local supermarket one Sunday he's reminded of his acquaintance. On long lonely nights the man sneaks into his private thoughts and takes over Dopfers mind.
Its right sinful is what it is!
But hell, if it doesn't feel right, what else possibly could?
Over the past week, the stranger has been staying longer. They’ve evolved from small talk even. The man’s name is Vald, he’s from Romania originally, and, whilst this Dopfer was not directly told but rather he came to by his own conclusions, Vlad is divorced. He refuses to speak of her and it's his only finger not decorated by a ring.
One particular night, their conversation takes a rough turn. Dopfers not sure exactly how it happens. He thinks all he did was call the man out on one of his flirty comments. He's pretty sure he insinuates acting on it if Vlad keeps it up. Apparently, it was the opening the stranger had been looking for.
It's how Dopfer finds himself smushed against the wall of the employees bathroom. It’s how he realizes that over the course of a month and two days they’ve been inching closer and closer to this.
Hot breath on his neck, frantic hands on his fly, and a tall stranger behind it all.
He’s pressed roughly into the tile wall of the bathroom, one he's very, very happy he had cleaned some hours prior out of pure boredom. The press of Vlad's tall gaunt frame against his back is enough to get him going, so the man easily undoing his jeans to let them slip down to his ankles just helps him along evermore.
Slender, cold fingers wrap around his warm half-hard cock and he whines- loudly. The rings Vlad wears are equally chilling, and the frigid metal bites into the skin of his dick.
“You're so eager…” Vlad rasps in his ear and nips at his earlobe. “Wet… how often do you think of this? How long have I plagued your mind?”
Dopfer gasps as the hand around his cock squeezes, but doesn't pump. “All the time! Al- always!” He barely manages the words.
“Mm.” the sharp scrape of teeth against his neck, the roll of hips that grind into his ass, Dopfer lets out a soft moan that echoes in the small space and Vlad chuckles. “Do you want this, Dopfer?”
Dopfer nods frantically, a flurry of pleading words that get him just what he wants when Vlad moves his hand finally, putting slender and experienced fingers to work.
The pressure is just right, not too much that it hurts where Dopfer is tender, he swipes his thumb over the slit of Dopfer's cockhead every once in a while and each time it sends a pleasured shiver though the employee’s body.
All the while he jerks off the other man, Vlad is subtly grinding and rolling his hips, making a mess of himself and working the two of them up at once.
Dopfer comes. pressed up against a wall getting a handjob from a man he, frankly, does not know.
Vlad hums in approval and releases the hold he has on Dopfer, as well as pulling away slightly. without the press of Vlad against him, Dopfer sways on his legs, and hits the ground.
He stares up at Vlad, whose dark eyes shine with an idea. A cold hand cradles his cheek, slides into his hair to tightly curl into the locks.
“Since you're down here already, would you be so kind as to humor me?” Vlad asks in a low voice. He doesn't have to say it, Dopfer gets the idea, and so he nods in agreement.
His hands shake as they push away the coat and fumble for the man's fly. He doesn't get right to it of course, no. rather he palms gently at the clear and distinct bulge in Vlad's pants.
the fingers in his hair tighten to a painful degree, and finally he pops open the button.
Vlad is impressive. His dick is long, a decent girth to it but mostly it's just lengthy. weirdly enough it matches the rest of his features in that way.
“Dont just stare, some of us have places to be.” Vlad rumbles above him. Clearly he prefers to be the teaser, not the teased.
Dopfer snorts and opens his mouth to say something snappy back but Vlad seizes the opportunity.
Two rough hands force him upon the length, and a well timed thrust of the hips has Dopfer gagging and instinctively gripping Vlad's hips. But he doesn't pull away, nor even try to.
Above, Vlad sighs contentedly and at least one hand relaxes its hold. though, he only needs the one to hold Dopfer in place as he sets a rhythm for himself, using Dopfer roughly and as he pleases.
Every time the cockhead hits the back of his throat Dopfer chokes back tears and scrunches his eyes more.
It just increases his blood flow though… he can feel himself getting all worked up again with the rough usage of his mouth. Unashamedly, too.
He sneaks his hand down, trailing Vlad's leg until he can reach down and touch his achingly hard cock. he moans around the dick penetrating his mouth all the while he strokes himself.
Vlad seems to be closing in on his own orgasm, as his thrusts grow sloppy, and his fingers tighten all the more in Dopfer's hair.
without any warning, Vlad buries himself deep inside the heat of Dopfer's mouth and comes.
which sets off Dopfer who, with a pathetic cry, reaches his second orgasm, and comes all over the floor as well as Vlad's shoes. All of this whilst stuffed to the very brim with a cock in his mouth.
Vlad slides out and Dopfer spits out the sour taste of the substance to the side.
‘tsk tsk.’
He cranes his head up in time for Vlad to let a finger come to rest under his chin, tilting Dopfers head up unnecessarily high, until his neck is very exposed and the action is uncomfortable.
Vlad then squats down to Dopfers level, but he doesn't move his hand which leaves the brunette staring at the ceiling of the bathroom.
Slowly, Vlad moves forward. His lips latch onto the pulse point of Dopfer's throat and sharp teeth prick at his skin.
He whines, a loud broken thing, when Vlad actually really bites down. Vlad doesn't even need to keep holding his head back, as Dopfer cranes it back himself as he shifts so he no longer sits on his knees. Giving full and complete access of his neck to Vlad.
Vlad, having practically bit a damn hole in Dopfers neck, follows his motion. His taller frame engulfs the small man as he sucks greedily from the bloodflow like some overgrown leech.
It's a weird, weird feeling. ticklish, foreign.
At first its nice, surreal even. But the feeling changes.
Vlad just drinks away, totally in his own world. It starts to feel like too much, too uncomfortable and Dopfer tries to push him off, but Vlad won't budge.
“V-Vlad! Too much!” He shoves again, shoves Vlad by the shoulders but the man only clamps down harder, and blood streams out faster.
his pathetic hitting just gets weaker and weaker until his arms drop to his sides. Only then does Vlad pull away
the world is blurry, but he can make out the wide grin on Vlad's face. His mouth is smeared in blood. It cakes his teeth and dribbles down his chin, hitting the tile floor with a soft sound that echoes in the new silence.
swiftly, Vlad rises. He pulls his trousers back up and fixes his coat.
“Do stay alive, Dopfer. I’d love to do this again some time.”
With that, Vlad turns on his heel, and exits.
He leaves Dopfer sitting in a pile of their combined messes and his own blood.