Work Text:
The night stood still. Benatar laid wide awake in bed, staring up at the bottom of Puff Puff's empty bunk. He had been lying still for hours, a fruitless attempt to drift to sleep. The bus was dead silent, with Puff Puff and DeeJay out for the entire night, the only noise being the mindless ramblings from Axel's sleep talking. But it wasn't his bandmate’s rambles that kept him awake, but rather the emptiness in his stomach.
It'd been weeks since he last fed. He ate regular food with the others all the time, but it could never sustain him. His stomach was a void, and every bite he took was a fruitless attempt to cease it. He needed flesh, blood, he needed a person. The hole that had slowly formed inside of him overtook his every thought. His hunger had become all he could think about throughout the entire day, and every time he was on his feet he felt like he was going to pass out.
Yet he didn’t have a person. His girlfriend had broken up with him a couple weeks ago; she was tired of her neck covered in bruises and bite marks. He had, once again, got too greedy with a freely available source of flesh and paid the price. Every time he got his fix, so to speak, he turned into a feral animal let loose into a field of sheep, desecrating humanity’s innocence with his bloodlust. But he felt far from proud. The guilt would eat him up from the inside, making him want to vomit out the meal that was sacrificed for him. He had realized long ago he needed someone who wanted it, a form of masochist, perhaps, someone who would beg for his canines, but his search was null. He needed to find someone who was a right freak, but there was no one of the sort nearby.
Or was there?
Laying diagonally to him was Axel, sound asleep and sleep talking about fucking dragons. Axel... he was a right freak. Maybe he could...
No.
Well...
Benatar sat up straight and peered towards him. He bit his lip in thought, then stood. He stalked over to Axel's bunk and climbed the ladder. He crawled over and on top of him, supporting himself by placing his hands on either side of Axel's head. In the glint of the moonlight he examined him. His fingers were twitchy as he spoke, drool pooling at his pillow and his hair a greasy rat’s nest. His skin looked so soft and delicate, a few scars scattered about but nothing fresh. He always slept shirtless, even in the colder months, showcasing the forest on his chest. Benatar had never realized how enticing he looked.
And his neck. A beautiful bare canvas for him, ready to be painted red and purple. He could just taste the blood underneath his skin, picturing all the intricacies of blood veins across his insides, the abstract patterns of the way his plasma flowed. His mouth watered as he pictured the metallic flavors inside him, placing a hand on the side of his neck, which Axel barely shifted at. His stomach growled as he shifted his hand up onto his cheek. Benatar quietly giggled when he leaned into his palm in his sleep, and brought his hand further up towards his scalp. He took a grip on the roots of his hair and leaned down towards his neck, his mouth watering as it approached his skin. Just before his fangs touched him, he pulled away.
He uncontrollably panted, his palms sweaty and his heartbeat racing in his ears. He whined incoherently to himself and began to crawl back. His shaky arms could barely hold himself up, his mouth dry and his eyes watery.
Within his breakdown, Axel did possibly the worst thing he could've: he woke up. Benatar froze, and it felt like at any moment he would’ve vomited all over the man that was waking because of his own sick, cruel fantasies.
“What in the hell are you doing?” Axel grumbled out in the dead silence.
Benatar opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Axel sat up and rubbed his eyes awake. He stared at Benatar through his hair, eyebrow raised as he scratched at his head. He looked less offended, and more confused.
“Are you dead?”
He caught him off guard, “what?”
“You look like a corpse, or a ghost,” he chuckled to himself, “is this a dream? Benabitch finally died and now he's haunting me? Best one I’ve had in years.”
Benatar audibly scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I’m just a tad malnourished. Hungry. I’m hungry.”
“Bullshit. We had Burger World last night.”
He pulled at his collar while thinking up an excuse, “fast, fast metabolism?”
Axel nodded, but then another question hit his mind, “what homo shit were you doin’ to me up here?”
Benatar inhaled and stared down at his lap, thinking up any sort of excuse that wouldn’t end him up unconscious and with a bruise on his cheek. An unbearably long stillness passed as Axel silently pressured him for an answer, boring a hole into him with his stare combined with a rather unreadable expression, hunched over and slowly inching uncontrollably closer for every second of quiet.
“Answer me, dickbag.”
“I was going to drink your blood,” he bluntly blurted out, “sorry.”
Axel leaned back, mouth agape. He almost went through stages: a look of confusion, his brows scrunched under his bangs, a fleeting moment of rage in his frown before his mouth finally twisted into a smile.
“You're a fucking freak, Benatar. Or a vampire.”
He nervously laughed. He opened his mouth to talk, but Axel interrupted him.
“Either way it's hot.”
“I, what?”
Axel just mischievously grinned.
“I'm a vampire, alright?”
Axel shook his head, awfully entertained despite the predicament he had put him in, “Benatar, the dumb Brit into bloodplay,” Benatar rolled his eyes, but he didn’t notice, “just tell me you're a kinky freak; you can still bite me. I'll judge the hell outta you but you can.”
Bloody bastard, “I'm not joking, mate. See?” He hooked the side of his mouth with his index to showcase his teeth. His fangs weren’t as prominent as they used to be, when he was able to feast more often, but Benatar still thought they were glaringly obvious. Axel squinted to get a look in the moonlight.
He didn't skip a beat, “you need braces, dude.”
Benatar scoffed and closed his mouth. He couldn’t tell if he was being stupid on purpose or not. Axel grinned at his reaction and craned his neck out, pointing at the skin Benatar was just a moment ago lusting after. Benatar eyed him for a moment to see him nod his permission. He wasn't sure he actually believed him and his vampirism, but there was no way he'd pass up a meal, especially from someone so willing and zealous at the very idea. He slowly inched closer to him and placed his hands on the back of his neck, going behind his hair so his palms touched his skin. He sat up on his knees, one resting besides Axel's legs and the other in between them.
He brought his mouth up to his neck, his aroma of week-old sweat and the AXE body spray he used to replace showering assaulting his nose. His warm, tender breath caressed his skin, a blanket covering the chill of the night. Axel’s chest hitched at the feeling, his lips twitching between excitement and anxiety. He stopped just before his lips were able to close in on his neck, his face burning red as he asked his bandmate,
“Are you sure?”
Axel swallowed before answering, his tone suddenly quiet and rather nervous, much akin to Benatar’s, “do, do it, pussy.”
Benatar took his advice and bit, hard. Axel’s body tensed and he loudly wheezed out a gasp, holding his breath for a moment before exhaling into a series of pants and whimpers. He brought his hands up, grasping at the air before grabbing onto the back of Benatar’s shirt. He squeezed the fabric, making his knuckles turn white as his body trembled at the symphony of pain and pleasure Benatar bestowed him.
“You, you do has fangs,” he mumbled out in between his gasps. Benatar’s teeth pierced his skin, tiny shards of ice invading his temple of flesh and blood, forcing his life force to drip out to become Benatar's meal. Axel chewed at his lips and squeezed his eyes shut, bringing a hand up to grab onto the very roots of Benatar’s hair. He used his control over the blond to not pull him away, but bring him deeper, “hooooly shit.”
Once his neck was thoroughly penetrated, Benatar took his fangs out, unveiling a steady flow of Axel's blood, allowing his feast to truly begin. He wrapped his lips around his injury, starting by tonguing at his marks to induce more bleeding, lapping up his blood that dripped down his neck.
He could hear Axel's breath shake in his ear, and even quieter, he hissed out, “holy shit, holy shit, Benatar. You're actually a vampire, you're an actual fucking vampire. What the fuck, what the fuuuuuck.” He inhaled sharply and grinded his teeth when Benatar began sucking his skin, emptying Axel's veins to sustain himself. His first meal in weeks granted him a fuzzy and numbing feeling of arousal in the pit of his stomach, the ever-familiar metallic flavor coating his mouth and embracing his throat. “God dammit, Benatar! I'm so fucking hard right now!”
Benatar raised an eyebrow as he drank but didn't stop. In fact, it encouraged him. He drank him rough, giving himself little time to breathe, like he was shotgunning a can of beer. He loudly exhaled, gripped onto his neck like a leech while rubbing his skin in comforting circles. His snack started rather dispassionate, but hearing Axel call out his pleasure made him turn ravenous.
Axel's legs closed in, wrapping around Benatar’s leg as much as they could. He practically shoved him into his neck and pushed Benatar’s entire torso towards him, disorienting the smaller man for a moment and making him lose his adherence to his skin. Axel shivered when the air hit the skin Benatar was previously tending too, precious blood escaping. Benatar loudly gasped, catching his breath for a moment though Axel was the opposite, rubbing his crotch against Benatar’s leg. He grabbed onto the roots of Axel's hair, just for any type of support to hold himself up. Despite him being his first actually rejuvenating meal in weeks, Benatar unexpectedly found himself shaking and panting as if he just ran a mile.
The glint of his blood leaking down his skin perked Benatar back up. Axel's dry-humping and general squirming made it difficult for him to latch on again, so instead he pushed his shoulder and pulled his hair to slump him onto his back.
“You're fucking strong!” Axel exclaimed, his words shaky and warm. Benatar giggled in the midst of the chaos and tongued at his neck, uncharacteristically sloppily. He dug his nails into Axel’s shoulder, passionate enough to break skin. Axel gasped in response, then laughed. He expanded his engraving by scraping his nails down towards his pecs, leaving a stinging sensation to accompany his puncture mark. Axel bit his lip as he branded him, heaving out wordless pleas for more. Benatar kept licking even once his neck was clean, savoring the salty tang of his sweat. He washed his skin until it went raw and tender, a shade of bright cherry red and a pulsating feeling within the numbness.
His wound had stopped bleeding, so he bit his neck again to start anew, and then once again for good measure, leaving three of his bloody autographs on the whimpering, twitchy metalhead. Not giving Axel a moment of peace, he pressed at his neck with his thumb to squeeze out his plasma, artfully tonguing it up before enclosing his lips around his lowest mark, leaving the other to bleed out onto his own face. He loudly exhaled through his nose as he greedily extracted his life force once again, the noise accompanied by a deep gnarl from the very back of his throat.
Axel cackled, Benatar gripping on tighter so he wouldn't squirm out of place. “Are you fucking growling? You're a god damn animal, dude, clawing at me and shit!” Benatar released another noise in response, this one more mellow and frail: a purr. He thought Axel would have laughed even harder, but instead he brought a hand up and petted him, brushing out his bedhead then scruffing his hair. Benatar initially tensed at his novel affection, but then softened down and returned the sentiment by caressing Axel’s head with one hand, smoothing his hair with his fingers and rubbing his ear.
He spoke in the middle of his feast, saliva dripping down Axel's neck and onto the pillow below, “you’re quite enjoying this.”
“Honestly, this is the sexiest thing that's ever happened to me.” His laughter had quickly died down into giggles and warm, airy chuckles, his body limp but his smile bright.
Hit with a jolt of bravery, Benatar asked, “would you like to be my banquet again in the near future?”
“That’d be fuckin’ metal, dude. Hell yeah,” he spoke oddly calmly, not as if he were relaxed, but sedated. Benatar noticed the shift and lifted his head, taking a quick moment to study his face then realizing the issue.
“Bloody hell, mate, you’re pale as a sheet!” His eyes darted across Axel’s entire bust, realizing that he had become a sadistic statement of gore and brutality that Benatar painted with his own two hands. Three distinct bite marks on one side of his neck, and malevolent, rabid claw marks going down his shoulder blade. His chest went heavy, the familiar feeling of anxiety and shame overpowering his fed stomach. He brought a hand up to his own face, covering his mouth and fangs, "blimey, Axel, I’m terribly sorry, I just, I don’t know-”
“Shhhh,” he reached up and brought Benatar’s hand down to his chest, then placed an index on his lips, trembling and stained crimson, “keep going,” he whispered, “keep going ‘till you drain me dry like a Capri-Sun.”
Benatar let out a small chuckle at his comparison.
“Everything from here up,” he brought his hand down and he motioned to the top of his pecs, where his scratch mark ended, “it fucking hurts. So badly. And I can’t feel my fingertips and I can barely think straight but goddammit Benatar,” he spoke his name through gritted teeth but Benatar didn’t let him finish.
“I’m so sorry mate, I mean it. It’s just, whenever I’d drink from my girlfriends I end up right mental and usually it becomes a whole kerfuffle and we’d break up, and, and I haven’t had a drink in an awfully long time and when you let me, I, I just went nutter and now it’s all gone to pot and you’re about to zonk out, or, or worse. And bloody hell I just feel like rubbish about all this and it’s as if I were about to spew all over your smashing face,” he paused for a moment to inhale, his breath shaky, “Axel, please, I’m so terribly sorry; you can hate me forever because I’m a right prick for all this, a right cockwomble that is. Jeez, sod it, you can kick me out of the band, I’ve lost the bloody plot, mate,” he shook his head to himself, “I’ve lost it.”
Axel was quiet for a moment, “listen, man: I dunno what half those words mean but I want you to know I has the hugest fucking boner right now.”
Benatar chewed at his lips and discreetly glanced at Axel’s crotch that was pressed against his kneecap, “I think you’ve lost too much blood for that.”
Axel let out a chuckle, especially when he noticed that Benatar himself was rocking a hard-on, “you’re such a fucking freak, Benatar, I never would’ve expected this kinda crap from you. An actual fucking vampire, damn...” his voice trailed off as he was drifting off into nirvana, but he didn’t once break eye contact with the guilt-ridden Englishman before him.
“I’m terribly sorry, I do mean that.”
“Shut the fuck up, dumbass. I’m still bleedin’, you know,” he pointed at his fresher marks, which were dyeing his pillow a deep burnt umber, “clean your damn mess up. Don’t make me beg for it.”
Benatar tilted his head and frowned at him. He raised an eyebrow, but his hair covered it.
Axel grinded his teeth at his response, then sighed in defeat, “please? Pretty please, suck my blood ‘till I has death?”
Benatar thought for a moment, his mouth dry and his arms still shaky. He analyzed the man in front of him: on death’s doorstep and turned into a sanguine bovine for him, yet still begging for more, begging him for more, begging to become his daily feast, to sacrifice his own soul for the blond he bullied on the daily. He finally broke a smile.
“I don’t like what you’re trying to turn me into, Axel Chains.”
Despite his statement he leaned back down to his neck, brushing his skin with kisses before licking up his blood. Axel chuckled at him finally caving in, weakly bringing a hand up to pet his hair again.
“Come on, you can do better than that.”
Benatar hummed before taking his advice, wrapping his lips around his mark and drinking straight from his blood vessels.
“Balls yeah,” Axel whispered under his breath, Benatar barely able to hear him, “I'ma wake up a living dead boy and it'll be the hottest thing ever.”
In the silence Benatar drank, emptying his veins dry and not letting a single drop hit the fabric below. Whenever his blood would stiffen, he took his mouth off to squeeze and pry at his skin, compelling his blood back out so he could engulf in him once again. In these tiny moments of peace, he'd accompany him with gentle kisses and nuzzles in the very crook of his neck. Axel would always manage to let out a chuckle in response, in between his stuttery and shallow breaths. He was close enough to hear Axel’s heartbeat, racing in a fight against him as he ruthlessly stole its fuel. He cupped onto his shoulder joint and dug his nails into his skin, signing him again with deep and vicious scratches that trailed down his arm, finally stopping at his elbow. Axel’s arm twitched and jittered as he branded him, but not once did he pull away.
Benatar ended up so engrossed in his meal that it took Axel’s hand limping off his head for him to realize that he had fallen unconscious. Benatar froze until he felt him breathe underneath him, letting out a sigh of relief in response. He finally left his neck to press his ear onto his chest, listening to his heartbeat that raced at a breakneck speed in a desperate attempt to revive him from the brutality Benatar put him through. He sat up and studied said brutality. Shame washed over him, but in just a few seconds was quickly replaced with something more devious: pride. He’s danced his sadistic dance many times before, on many different lovers of varying levels of acceptance towards his rather bizarre situation and preferences, but Axel was the first to enthrall him to such a drastic degree. Never once had he maimed one of them to the point of blacking out, nor had he ever finished a meal with his stomach so full.
Seeing all the suffering he put him through made him rock hard, so he slid off his bunk and hurried to the bathroom. In the mirror he looked at the monster that mangled Axel, leaning forwards on the sink. Dried blood crusted on his lips and under his nails. His blond locks were a disaster, tangled up from the rabid feast he had, his face red from sweating and his hair sticking to his forehead. He was a grotesque monstrosity, and he liked it.
He pulled his cock out from his sweats, already leaking. He spread his precum across his erection to substitute as lube, shuddering at his touch. He was aching for some type of stimulation during his meal, and just the slightest graze made him feral. At a rapid, steady pace he stroked himself, squeezing a little harder than normal. The blood on his hand flaked onto his skin, corrupting his most vulnerable body part with his violence. Any other night he'd be disgusted at himself, but tonight, it made him giggle. He watched himself in the mirror, a right freak masturbating to himself, getting off to the torment he put their drummer through.
He let out a sigh of ecstasy and fluttered his eyes closed as he recalled his experience from just a few minutes ago. They’ve been in precarious situations before that ended with Axel’s bloodshed, but that never brought him pleasure. He needed to be the culprit, for his struggling to be from his hands. He thought about the way he squirmed when he drank from him and how he gasped out in a perfect combination of agony and rapture when he broke his skin with his nails.
He remembered the exact noise he made when he did that, actually. It stuck with him, and he couldn't resist looping it over and over again in his head. He sounded shocked, both awestruck and horrified at what type of freak Benatar really was. He grinned. It was only for a moment, but he was sure that during that moment Axel was scared of him, terrified of what he was going to do next. And the way he laughed afterwards; he liked it. He liked being afraid of him, of Benatar hurting him, clawing him into shreds and devouring his life force.
Benatar whimpered in the silence, his body tensing and fidgeting as he panted for composure. He thought about the way Axel squirmed, the way he twitched and twisted from his hand. It was like his body, his primal instincts, were trying to fight back, while he begged Benatar for more. He smiled as he remembered his begging. That dumb metalhead wanted him to hurt him so badly; if he really wanted to he could've had him get on his knees and bark for it.
He should’ve had him do that. Next time, he’ll tie him up, restrain him into easy prey. Maybe he could fight for it; Axel would let him win anyway. Pin him down to the ground and watch him disintegrate into submission. The thrill of overpowering someone built like him, all the hard work he put into building his physique be naught. Have him succumb to his will, having him wrapped around his finger and chained to his leash. Maybe he could get him on all fours, ridicule him into licking his Vans clean and plead for more. He wanted to step on him, have him whine and mewl before breaking him down further. Split his skin open and watch his life leak out, the same shade of cherry as his tie. A symbol saying that all the delicious blood inside him was his. He would become his.
Next time. He couldn’t wait until next time.
His orgasm came before he could process it, breath shaky as he doused the sink. He lost his breath for a moment, regaining it to let out a broken moan into his solitude. He sputtered out a laugh as he slowed his stroking, his cum dripping onto the counter and his hand. He finally opened his eyes to the freak in the mirror, a sappy smile on his face as he caught his breath, his hand twitchy when he took it off his cock.
He turned the sink on and cleaned up his mess, putting his cock back into his sweats. He wiped the counter with toilet paper and scrubbed his hands clean. He hummed as he pictured the sweeter side of his twisted fantasy: closing up Axel’s wounds and holding him close. Nursing him with a bottle of water and, for once, not have someone scowl at him for almost making them pass out. Granted, this time he actually did pass out-
Wait.
Bloody hell.
Benatar dropped to the sink cabinets and snatched the bottle of antiseptic. He left him unconscious on his bed while he jerked off, how could he do that? He grabbed the cotton pads, a roll of gauze, medical tape, and scissors, holding them with his arm and chest. He closed the cabinet with his foot and ripped the bathroom door open, rushing to the kitchen. He grabbed one of Axel's Gatorades and protein bars — any flavor would do — then sped to his bunk to see him still out cold.
He set his DIY first aid kit aside to study his breathing: shallow and unstable. He lightly shook him, hoping it'd wake him, which to his surprise, it did.
“Axel, mate, I'm so sorry, I just-”
Axel interrupted him, seemingly not even realizing he was talking in the first place, “Benatar? Dude, I was hasing the craziest-ass dream about you.”
Benatar let out a laugh in his stress, “you daft cunt.”
Axel frowned and tilted his head. Benatar motioned towards the giant scar at his arm he gifted him. Axel touched it, skin still tender though the bleeding had stopped. He brushed his neck, flinching at the sudden pain, then grinned.
“No fucking way.”
Benatar giggled, anxiety fading though still lurking behind. He gave him the Gatorade and protein bar, which Axel greedily opened with a smile.
“These flavors sucks ass, dickwad.”
“They’re yours.”
Axel didn't have a reply, instead giving him an exaggerated frown.
Benatar shook his head and worked up the courage to confess, “um, I left you here, after you blacked out.”
“Wait, I blacked out? Holy shit, you really are an animal. That's hot as balls.”
Benatar ignored his comment, “and I was really,” he motioned towards his crotch, which Axel stared intently at, “so I went to the bathroom and...” he trailed off, letting the sentence finish itself.
Axel beamed once it clicked, “you fucking piece of shit, that’s hilarious.”
Benatar frowned in confusion, “aren’t you mad?”
“You fuckin’ sucked me dry and then beat your meat? You? Benedict Benatar? Hawt. I got to look the metal God in the eyes with a stiffy.”
Benatar scoffed and still said, “I'm terribly sorry about it.”
Axel just shrugged. Benatar frowned, then chuckled.
“I need to clean and bandage your wounds.”
“Lame!”
Benatar snorted as he grabbed the antiseptic and cotton pads, “it'll sting.”
“Bitchin’.”
“Hold still,” he prepared a cotton pad and held Axel’s shoulder with his free hand, “the less you squirm the faster it’ll go.”
“Talkin’ like you do this often, you do this often?”
A beat passed before he answered, holding the pad right above his neck, “yes.”
Not letting Axel get a chance to even think about his response, Benatar pressed the cotton pad to his injury, burning his tender skin in a sweetly painful cleansing ritual. Axel sharply inhaled, tensing himself to make it easier. His fingers twitched, squeezing and scratching the plastic of his drink. He loudly panted to try to steady his breathing, grinding his teeth as Benatar gripped his shoulder to hold him still, unusually focused as he cleaned up his mess. Once the triad of bite marks were thoroughly disinfected, he wrapped the gauze around his neck and taped it into place.
“Now how's everyone gonna know I had a smokin’ hot vampire suck my blood?”
Benatar didn't even notice what he called him, “you can take it off tomorrow morning.”
“Is that safe?”
He shrugged and hummed out a ‘I dunno’, still focused on preparing another cotton pad.
“That makes it even hotter.”
Benatar didn't reply, but let out a smile in his otherwise stoic expression. He cleaned his first scratch mark, the smaller one at his pec. Axel whimpered at the sting but otherwise stayed calm. Benatar’s hold on him was firm, but not dominant like his previous grip was. Instead, it was tender and nurturing, his fingers blanketed over the crevices of his muscles.
He bandaged his damage then moved to the second mark, adorning his arm like a tattoo. He frowned when he realized just how gigantic it was, and how Axel twitched when he started cleaning his shoulder.
“So does this do anything for you?”
Benatar didn't reply.
“You're a fucking sadistic freak, you know.”
Benatar grumbled and smeared the cotton pad across his shoulder, replacing his merciful touch with something careless and rough.
Axel squawked at the pain and flinched away. He made sure he knew: “this means I'm right!”
Benatar glared at him with the one eye that wasn’t covered by his bangs. He seized his wrist with surprising strength and held his arm still while he tortured him with the sting of the antiseptic, burying it into the depths of his injury with full intent to hurt. Axel fruitlessly grasped at the air, whimpering and whining at the stabbing, burning torment that paralyzed him with pain. He met eyes with Benatar, drool going down his cheek as all the feeling in his arm was replaced with numbing anguish.
“Say ‘sorry’,” Benatar proclaimed firmly.
“Sor, sorry!” He babbled out, his voice wobbly and small, “the fuck?”
Benatar pulled the pad away and let go of his wrist, which had turned red from the pressure, “you should think about being nicer to me,” he reached up and reassuringly rubbed his shoulder, where he still had some healthy skin. Axel shuddered, then grinned.
“Brit's got bark and bite, huh?”
He eyed him, then smirked.
“I think you're really sexy like this,” he told him while he returned to cleaning his wound, regularly, this time, “why’d you hide it for so long?”
Benatar paused before answering, grabbing the gauze and starting the wrap, “I’ve never hidden it, you wanker.”
“I dunno what that means.”
“Exactly,” he smiled to himself as he taped the gauze up, starting another layer just in case. He then came to the realization, “did you just say I’m sexy?”
Axel shrugged.
He clicked his tongue before replying, “the feeling’s mutual.”
“Still dunno what that means.”
“It means I find you mighty fine as well,” he smiled at him, broadcasting his clusterfuck of teeth and the fangs that prominently showed his true nature, “and I simply can't wait for the next time you get to be my meal.”
“‘Next time’,” he echoed, “next time can you jerk my shit too?”
Benatar finished the second layer then set the gauze aside. Ignoring his crude choice of euphemism, he shot back with, “I could do that right now, if you so please.”
“Nah, too tired. Next time.”
“Sounds smashing,” he gently picked up his hand and planted a kiss on his knuckles, “and I'm still terribly sorry for leaving you here.”
“You're good. You're hot when you're an asshole,” he directed a flirtatious growl at him, which Benatar giggled at. He collected everything he brought up into his arms and crawled back to the ladder down, which Axel commented on, “hey, dickweasel, where the fuck are you goin’?”
Benatar tilted his head, his lone eye shining in the moonlight. He motioned to the ladder.
“You did all that and now you wanna leave me alone? I'll has nightmares!”
He frowned, opening his mouth like he had a reply but nothing came out.
Axel scooted to the side and patted the empty space next to him. The twin bed didn't leave a lot of room, but his sultry gaze showed he didn't have an issue with that, “come on, you homo.”
Benatar's expression changed to a lopsided smile and accepted his invitation. He sat his things aside and nestled into the empty spot. Once he settled under the covers, laying on his back, Axel didn’t give him a moment to reposition. He lunged onto his torso and planted his head on his chest, bringing his hands up to the sides of his head and engulfing his fingers within his fluffy, blond locks. Benatar tensed up for a moment, then relaxed and wrapped his arms around him.
“Are you the passive one in bed, too?” Benatar asked, wildly entertained at just how eager the hunk was to lay on his chest.
“What? We're already in bed, you douche.”
He combed his hair through his fingers, brushing his bangs away from his eyes to see that they were already closed, “forget I asked. Go to sleep.”
Axel didn't reply, uncharacteristically giving Benatar the last word. Within a few moments it seemed like he already fell asleep, his breathing steady. He wasn't all that shocked. Axel’s always been a heavy sleeper, and that combined with his blood loss, it would've been more shocking if he didn't conk out instantly. What did shock him was how comfortable he was with him. How comfortable he was to fall asleep with the man that had put him through hell and back for his own pleasure.
Maybe he really didn't view him as a sadistic subhuman freak. Or, rather, he did, but had no issue with it. Instead, he enjoyed it. He found it humorous, or sexy, or maybe both. And Axel didn't dread the next time he hungered his flesh, but was excited for it. It was such a new concept for him, but also exactly what he wished for. Going to sleep with his bloodlust at bay was a sensation he forgot how much he missed, finally thinking clearly after spending weeks suffocating in his famine. It was almost scary, knowing that his twisted fantasy was finally coming true.
And to think it was all thanks to the freak that slept soundly on his chest.
Puff Puff and DeeJay pried for answers about the mysterious, and ridiculously brutal, scars Axel got during the one time they left him alone with Benatar. The most believable excuse they got was that he did it to himself on purpose for ‘badass branding purposes’ (he especially emphasized that they made him look like a can of Monster Energy), and that the cowardly Benatar had to step out of the room at the very sight of blood lest he fall unconscious.
To further prove his point, he willingly took a cinder block to the face (Puff Puff was eager to volunteer as his attacker) and they held an unprofessional photoshoot of the results. This time, Benatar actually did have to step out of the room at the very sight of blood, but only because he could only hide his erection for so long.
He was sure Axel noticed, though. While the pictures were never actually posted onto their Facebook (therefore discrediting the entire reason they did the photoshoot in the first place, but Puff Puff and DeeJay didn't notice, or perhaps didn't want to learn the real reason he willing to almost break his nose for a cool picture), Axel cobbled up enough technological knowledge to shoot him an e-mail with the subject line: benafreaK,lol hav.e fun :). He found it hysterical that Benatar’s trips to the bathroom practically doubled once he had a collection of him covered in blood.
For his bite marks, he simply told the truth: “a smokin’ hawt vampire has sucked my blood”. They were both in complete disbelief at his response but he didn't give any alternative. Puff Puff responded with a whiny protest about him being a lying asshole, and that even if vampires were real there’s no way he’d be able to score one. Benatar made sure to cover his teeth with his hand as he giggled.