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Hunger is all that's screaming inside Multi. In his body, his mind, and what's left of his soul. It gnaws. It scratches like a stray animal at the door of a stranger, demanding to be let in and fed.
And if people didn't get on his fucking nerves, perhaps he'd have an easier time holding that hunger down. But no.
Normally, he'd feed on a worker. There's nothing they can do to protest, anyway. He pays them. They signed NDAs. They're helpless, but useful. Exactly what Multi likes. However, the thought of letting anyone inside the reactor, much less a worker, right now, fills him with the same irrational paranoia he's been experiencing since the day it was raided by the Regime.
"Dada? Why's dada sad?" The sweet, innocent voice of Nacho, bless his heart, momentarily lulls the beast inside Multi. He steadies his hands gripping the railing he's been hunching over for God knows how long by now.
"I'm alright, Nacho. Please, don't worry, I'm just... hungry. Go back to your room."
Nacho reaches into his inventory and soon holds out a cake Katie baked for him earlier. His doe eyes sparkle with concern as he waits for Multi to eat it.
"Nacho..." Multi sighs and drags a hand over his face, because what else can he do? Nacho knows well of his father's diet, yet tries to help regardless, "thank you, but I don't... save the cake for yourself, okay? I'm sure Katie worked really hard on it and would want you to enjoy it."
Nacho's little frown doesn't disappear. His ears twitch with unease. Seeing this, Multi crouches and gives the cake back to his son. His gloved hand extends to pat Nacho's head.
"Don't worry about dada, okay? I'm alright. I promise."
Immediately upon the reassurance, the child beams and embraces Multi, who sits back on his heels. No matter how often such contact is initiated, it stuns him like a tranquilizer dart. Something so odd about a warm touch to his sickly, irradiated body. Multi hesitantly pats Nacho's back. The latter backs off and waves his dada goodbye, before scurrying off to his room on the opposite side of the facility.
The moment that door shuts, Multi doubles over the railing, fingers digging into the reinforced iron so hard his gloves might tear. Teeth grit as he shuts his eyes. His fangs ache, so fucking bad. The mere thought of sinking his teeth into a warm body brimming with life makes him shudder and stifle a whimper. His body convulses, muscles twitch, neck bending at uncomfortable angles from uncontrollable ticks. If he paid attention to the reflection of the metal railing, he could see his eyes glowing neon.
"Hey, Multiii!"
Oh.
Oh, no.
Multi freezes as if shot, eyes immediately locking onto the man with golden wings and a pep in his step walking out of the decontamination room.
"Ah! There you are. Hey! Woah, you look worse for wear. You won't believe the—"
"Leave," Multi sharply interrupts Quackity.
"Wh— huh? Why?" Says the stumped avian.
"You need to leave now," The scientist repeats his order, voice barely stable enough to grit out the words. As he's staring at Quackity on the lower level of the stairs, he sees past clothes and skin. All he sees is every vessel in which flows that crimson nectar of life, his undoing, his vice. That beating heart, pumping it to every cell, so fragile he could rip it out with his hands if he tried and feel it still ba—dum ba—dum in his coarse hands.
"Okay, but why? You're being cryptic again, Multi, y'know I hate that."
"Quackity," Multi insists as his hands tremble. It would be so easy to pounce and sink his aching fangs into that honeyed skin and take all that he wants, "you need to get out now."
"Not if you don't tell me what the hell is going on with you. What— why are you twitching like that? You good?" Quackity doubles down and takes another step up the stairs. The metallic smell of crimson weighs heavier and heavier on Multi's senses.
Multi’s neck twitches with ticks he can barely suppress. Every step Quackity takes closer, that control slips away and the hunger inside wants out, out, out.
"Quackity, if you take another step closer, I swear— leave. Leave before I hurt you."
The scientist regrets those words as soon as they leave his mouth. He promised to himself he would never hurt Quackity. How dare the very man he swore to not touch be tempting his primordial nature with every step closer, every look in his eyes, every flutter of his lashes, every move of his lips? Taken aback, Quackity halts.
"Hurt... me? Why—" He begins, yet stops himself the moment he sees Multi's fangs digging into the meat of his own chapped lips and realizes. "Oh."
"I— No, no, no, I'd never..." But he's making it so hard not to.
"Multi, just fucking tell me what's going on! Do you need help?" Quackity insists, stubborn duckling that he is. He takes another step up the stairs. Multi can almost hear the blood rushing in his veins and salivates.
No, no... Multi doesn't need help.
"Quackity, please don't, I'll..."
Multi needs him.
"Multi, hey—"
His body lunges forward on its own.
In a split second, Multi crosses the platform to the stairs and tackles Quackity to the ground, their fall only softened thanks to the latter's wings.
Quackity's natural reaction should be dread. And it is. But the irrational, swirling feeling inside his mind, the one making his heart race and stomach flip, is curious to see more. Before Quackity can voice any protest, scream, or cry, the collar of his hoodie is pulled down, exposing his neck to the cold, stale air of the facility.
And then, teeth.
"Mul— ah!" Quackity gasps. Fangs pierce his skin without any further ado, brute-forcing their way into the supple flesh that calls out to the mad scientist above him like a siren song.
The sound that leaves Multi as he gets his first taste of the blood that's been teasing him for months is anything but human. Raw, guttural, desperate for more, more, more. Higher thoughts cease, reigns handed over to the hindbrain.
Quackity stares wide-eyed at the deepslate ceiling. Pain floods his nervous system, shuts it down so he can't squirm away. He finds that he doesn't particularly want to. The pain bleeds into a tingly, warm feeling despite blood leaving his body and into the mouth of the vampire. Quackity briefly wonders if this is how Graf feels around Multi.
The scientist makes a gurgling sound, blood dripping down the corners of his mouth and staining both of their clothes. Quackity tries to look down, hands on Multi's shoulders. However, in that moment, an unbearably hot flash washes over the avian, like grating TV static given the form of sensation. A foreign matter diving into his bloodstream, forcing its way in.
"M— Multi... Multi, fuck, ow—!" Quackity voices his first protest, and it's final, because Multi snaps back to reason as if shocked and pulls back. The sudden move makes Quackity wince as the fangs rapidly retreat. Crimson stains Multi's teeth, the scientist breathes heavily and despite the distance, Quackity can almost feel the warmth of it reaching him.
"Kurwa," Multi curses, brushing his dreads out of his face and padding the other's chest as if to shake life back into him. "what did you do?! Fuck, fuck, I told you to leave, no, no, no..."
"What... What did you do to me? Fuck," Quackity mutters. He does his best to keep his eyes open despite how lightheaded he feels. He brings his hand up to where he was just bitten, fingers smearing with his own blood. Color drains from Multi's face and he mouths "no."
He stares at them, and what strikes him is that blood isn't the only thing on his hands.
"What the hell...?" Quackity huffs, inspecting the neon green liquid mixing with his own blood. Its glow resembles the one in Multi's eyes. He looks into them and sees pure panic, the likes of which he hasn't seen in the scientist's eyes ever before.
"Fuck, I didn't mean to. I told you to leave— I told you! Shit, shit..." Multi gets up and nearly stumbles on his way up the stairs to his office.
In the meantime, Quackity attempts to get up and succeeds, wobbly on his feet. Blood drips down his clothes from the puncture wounds on his neck, filling his nostrils with the stench of copper. A second later, Multi runs back to him, blood on his lips and a supply kit in his hands.
"Yo, hey, hey, can you fucking tell me what's happening now?! Jesus Christ, you bit me hard!" Quackity doesn't sound quite as disturbed as Multi believes he should.
"I wouldn't have if you had just left like I told you to! I didn't want to..." Multi bites his lip. He tastes drying blood. Didn't want to hurt you, he doesn't finish his sentence, as if the words are painful to utter.
Quackity stares. Multi kneels beside him and rips off gauze to wrap it around the avian's neck. He wipes off all the blood he can with wet tissues, all the while muttering to himself "kurwa, debilu, coś ty zrobił najlepszego, mówiłem Ci," indecipherable to Quackity aside from the singular vulgarity.
"I had a... feeling you were, y'know... some sort of vampire," Quackity has the gall to chuckle amidst this morbid situation, "holed up underground all the time, pale as shit... guess it checks out."
It's Multi's turn to gape at the man, "Hilarious, Quackity. Why would you make me hurt you? Why would you..." Multi trails off, each word quieter than the last.
"Sorry, sorry. But wait, what's all the... green stuff?"
Multi tenses, shutting his eyes. With one deep breath, he decides the truth is the least he owes Quackity for what he's just done.
"It's... it's uncontrollable. I feed, and my salivary glands... release this radioactive substance. I'm still studying it, but," the scientist grits his teeth and in one swift move grips the collar of Quackity's hoodie, bridging the distance between their flushed faces, "do you understand how fucked you'd be if you weren't immune to radiation?! You, you are so, so incredibly reckless!"
Whatever Multi was yelling at him about, Quackity could only gaze into the hypnotizing glow of his eyes.
"...Bother me, " Quackity mutters, full sentence missing the other's ears.
"What?" Multi loosens his hold, yet doesn't change the proximity between them. The faintest crimson stain clings to his left fang.
It's my blood, Quackity thinks. My blood on his teeth.
"I said, you could've asked to feed on me. It wouldn't bother me."
And oh, Quackity has never seen the scientist this dumbstruck, a deer in headlights. It's such an odd look on this deranged man. Multi opens his mouth, closes it, gulps, and mutters with a shake of his head: "No, no, you don't know what you're saying," Multi smoothes out Quackity's hoodie, avoiding his eyes.
"I know what I'm saying," Quackity doubles down, "I'm offering."
Multi freezes yet again. How dare this man, so intriguing and alluring, beckoning Multi in like a siren with everything he does, say such things to him? Surely he must know what it does to what remains of Multi's heart.
"Quackity," comes the weak warning from Multi.
"Multi," comes the certain answer from Quackity.
No, Multi isn't always in control. He clearly isn't now.
Now, when his body moves on his own once more, this time to close the distance and slot their lips together. The drying blood cracks from the force of the kiss, softening with the moisture of saliva.
Quackity is way, way too into this than he should ever be. He supposes, however, that this is the only thing he can ever feel with Multi. Everything about them is wrong and unusual, absurd and abstract.
He'll be damned if he doesn't absolutely love it. He is guilty of this pleasure.
Multi stops the avian from falling by holding him by the small of his back, pushing their bodies towards each other. The desperation he tastes on Multi's tongue — or is it his own blood? — makes his wings flutter, and he kisses back just as fiercely. Fangs brush Quackity's lips and tongue. He shivers pleasantly, and he swears he can feel Multi smirking the tiniest bit into the kiss as he does.
Quackity stifles a sound, only for it to be drawn out of him either way when Multi nips at his bottom lip, and then takes that opening as a chance to slip his tongue into Quackity's mouth. He tastes copper on Multi's tongue. He wonders if his blood tastes better for Multi than it does for him.
"Multi—" Quackity attempts to speak once their lips part to breathe, but Multi dives right back in again. For all that talk about hating greedy people, Multi sure is one of them.
They stumble back, footsteps echoing against the deepslate. Quackity ends up caged between the wall and the vampire devouring him. He finds he doesn't mind this change at all. Golden wings spread and envelop Multi, as if shielding them from the sun that cannot reach them anyway. Not when in the deep darkness they find warmth just as sufficient.
That warmth tips over into bubbling heat the more their bodies try to mold themselves together. They're as close as they can be, but it seems it's not just Multi who's indulging in the greed he so claims to loathe. Quackity has no such qualms.
His hands wander down Multi's torso, over the torn lab coat. Spurred on, Multi breaks the kiss only to start trailing hot, wet kisses along the soft slope of Quackity's jaw. He sees Quackity's feathers shudder, feels him dig his fingers into his back.
The avian cradles Multi's head, beckoning him to where he was before. Multi would hesitate if he had any rationality left in him. It left the moment Quackity stepped foot in the reactor.
This time, however, Multi’s tongue flicks out to lick the gorgeous, warm skin beneath the original bite. Quackity shivers, a sound escapes his lips, and as he's about to tell Multi to get a move on, the god sinks his fangs into his offering.
"Mmh," Multi growls, more careful with the way he drinks the other's blood this time around. Perhaps there is something left in that pathetic excuse of a heart after all.
Quackity lets out a moan, hissing at the breach. The deeper the teeth sink, the better it feels. And it feels like bliss. Maybe he should barge into the reactor uninvited every day. He could get addicted to this.
"Fuck, Multi..."
His hips subconsciously try to buck up for friction, arousal pooling in his gut like a geyser teetering on the edge of eruption. Ever so merciful, Multi grants him what he's seeking. Without breaking the bite, he hoists one of Quackity's legs up and around his waist, using his knee as leverage. The pressure makes Quackity shut his eyes with a hiss. He ruts against it.
Multi's fangs retract. Lips soothe the bite with a kiss to the punctured skin, tongue lapping at all that remains, not letting it go to waste.
"You have any idea," the vampire rasps, squeezing Quackity's thigh, "how delicious your blood is? And you parade around, flaunting the scent, tempting me. You're cruel, Quackity."
Fuck, Quackity feels dizzy. To think such a high is possible without drugs. Or maybe it's whatever substance is now in his bloodstream, thanks to Multi, that's making every touch and every blitz of pain so electrifyingly ecstatic.
He wants more.
"And you're greedy," Quackity laughs breathlessly, trailing off when he realizes he might have hit a nerve.
It seems like Multi is way past that right now, if the way he seals their lips in a kiss again is anything to go by. Quackity reciprocates, clawing at Multi's lab coat. Way too many layers in the way. Multi pulls away, a droplet of Quackity's blood falling down his lip. The sudden distance confuses Quackity for a moment, because then he is being dragged by the scientist inside the operating room and unceremoniously thrown onto the table.
Gazing up from Quackity's position, Multi looks like the bringer of light.
Quackity swallows and pulls the vampire down with him. Both their hands scramble to shed their layers as they continue kissing like hungry beasts. With excessive clothing gone, Quackity is left shirtless, back pressed to the cold and stiff operating table, while Multi's shed his lab coat and stubbornly remains in his turtleneck. The cross necklace dangles off his neck and tickles Quackity's sternum.
Multi kisses his way down the avian's chest, tongue trailing over the flesh. If he were any weaker, he'd bite this man up and down until he became a trypophobic nightmare, deformed beyond recognition, all from Multi's fangs alone.
"I swear if you don't get a move on," Quackity complains, pulling at Multi's hair and eliciting a groan from him.
"You are greedy," Multi admonishes. Quackity only flashes him a smile.
The scientist's fingers slip under the waistband of Quackity's sweatpants and tug them down along with his boxers. He's pleasantly surprised to find Quackity decently aroused, and to express his satisfaction, he wraps his hand around him and gives a languid, tentative pump.
"Oh, shit," Quackity gasps, head rolling back on the operating table. Multi watches his reactions with rapt attention, as if Quackity were a novel specimen he's trying to understand from the inside out.
Multi takes this chance to latch his fangs onto the skin of his neck for the third time. When they pierce, Quackity whimpers, headwings flapping helplessly. He's gentler with the way he drinks Quackity's blood this time, but the man is so lightheaded at this point that he thinks he'll just pass out if Multi takes any more. The flaring arousal in his gut certainly isn't aiding him here.
But Multi doesn't drink for long, He strokes Quackity in tandem as he drinks before pulling back, licking the crimson off his lips. Perhaps he's saving his meal for later.
"Shhh, I got it, I got it," the scientist assures as he coats his fingers in the blood trickling out of the puncture wounds. Quackity struggles to figure out for what purpose could he possibly be doing that until the moment he feels the blood-slicked fingers slide down, one circling around his hole.
"Fuck... you're crazy," Quackity gulps, a gasp escaping him when the finger slowly nudges its way in, gently feeling around.
"You don't seem to mind," Multi argues with a bloodied grin.
The brunette shudders and wills his body to relax. It proves difficult when Multi's hot, coppery breath is looming above him, those eyes that haven't stopped glowing that neon green staring right into his soul as if searching for everything that he is and may yet be.
One relaxed enough, Multi decides Quackity is ready for another. And oh, he can feel the difference, a pleasant burn starting to settle and drive him crazy. Quackity momentarily wonders how Multi knows exactly where to touch to elicit a resection from him, but his thoughts are cut short when a third bloodied finger joins in stretching him open.
"Nnh, fuck, Multi... that's—" Quackity moans, heavy eyelids opening to find the scientist staring down at him like he's a feast to be savored.
"Good?" he supplies.
"Yeah."
Multi grins and keeps it up until he feels Quackity is loose enough. His fingers slide out and leave Quackity groaning in frustration, so he placates him with a kiss. Quackity realizes he didn't have anything to groan about once Multi pulls down his pants and boxers. He salivates. Not for long, as soon Multi is adjusting their position on the operating table, bending Quackity over it.
"Jesus, fuck— a warning next time," Quackity mumbles.
"Next time?" comes a laugh from Multi as he lines himself up. He heard the man below him gasp, looking over his shoulder. Multi soothes whatever anxiety Quackity might be having with a caress of his waist and slowly sinks in, met with negligible resistance.
"Oh, god..." Quackity shudders, holding onto the edges of the operating table. He wonders if it'll break. Looking at Quackity like this, Multi finds himself even more ravenous than before.
"God" is right, Multi thinks.
He presses his chest flush to Quackity's back, pulls out, and eases back in. For someone so undeniably deranged and questionable in many ways, he's awfully considerate of Quackity's state. A feeling hotter than the arousal coursing through him settles deep in his gut.
It's slow at first, which Quackity wouldn't expect from the scientist. Would he treat anyone else this way, or is Quackity special? He doesn't have much time to dwell on those thoughts, not when Multi fucks him slow, then goes faster, only to slow down again as if enjoying Quackity squirm and groan impatiently.
Feathers brush against Multi's chest with every move. Entranced by the sight that is the man trembling and gasping below him, he lets curiosity get the best of him and runs his fingers over the golden wings, brushing between the vanes, and—
“Ah! Wait—” Quackity's immediate reaction is to arch his back and flop his wings like it's instinct. The pair of headwings on his head flutter wildly and Multi thinks it's all so, so delectable, satisfied with the answer to his hypothesis.
“So they are sensitive,” Multi mutters, caressing the wings. Hunger flares inside his gut again, roars louder than before. Quackity's mauled neck entices him once again, and he gives in, because this man is nothing but Multi's only weakness.
The only warning Quackity receives before the bite on the back of his neck is a faint growl and a languid lick. Fangs sink in and he groans. He relishes in the sweet feeling blurring the edge between pleasure and pain, if the way he tightens around Multi is anything to go by.
“Fuck, yeah, drink… drink up,” Quackity manages between moans, gritting his teeth. He doesn't care for the growing nausea and weakness taking root in his body. He's bound to pass out soon at this point. However, he can't find it in himself to care — not when it feels like absolute heaven.
The encouragement only spurs Multi on and instead of biting harder or sucking up more blood than the slow, steady stream he has flowing into his mouth, he grabs Quackity's wings and pulls.
The effect is immediate.
“Multi!” Quackity spasms, head hanging off the operating table as he squeezes around the scientist and comes untouched.
“Amazing,” Multi marvels, briefly slowing down to simply admire how the brunette’s body shivers and quakes with no sound other than the breathless gasp that can't make it past his lips.
The vampire leans forward to lick along the golden feathers, leaving blood all over them. It's almost a shame, he thinks, to leave such beautiful limbs with the disgusting mix of blood, saliva, and poison.
No, Multi backtracks, it could never be disgusting. It's his blood on my tongue.
Unable to hold back any longer — not when Quackity responds so deliciously and demands more of him — Multi rams into the overstimulated man. Quackity rewards him with a symphony of ecstasy that Multi will never get out of his mind after this.
“Multi, I'm gonna… again, I'm, fuck, I'm gonna…” Quackity mewls, trying to move in tandem with the scientist as best as he can, but it's nigh impossible considering how hard and deep he's going. All thoughts are lost, and he surrenders to bliss again.
Multi grabs his chin to force his head up into a bloodied mess of a kiss. Quackity tips over the scales of pleasure and unravels once more, dripping onto the operating table and the sterile white floor.
“I need…” The vampire moans into Quackity's mouth, going just as fast as before despite the onslaught of sensation the man underneath him is experiencing, “I need— can I? Fuck, I need…”
“All that and you still— fuck… still won't say please,” Quackity chuckles, hissing as his prostate is abused, “give it to me.”
His permission is all Multi needs to groan against his neck and come inside him after a mere second. Warmth blooms inside Quackity, pleasure stuns him and Multi both. The scientist halts.
The only sound audible in the sterile room is their labored breathing. The world shifts back into focus slowly, not that Quackity pays much attention. It's difficult to.
“Quackity,” comes the hesitant whisper from Multi.
“Multi,” comes the breathless sigh from Quackity.
The vampire gulps as Quackity smiles at him all dazed. The flutter inside his heart disturbs him enough to slowly pull out of Quackity and rub his hip in a silent apology. The brunette groans, sounding almost disappointed.
Multi snaps his eyes away from the sight of Quackity dripping onto the floor. If he stares for any longer, his weak body will give in and devour him whole.
“Hey,” Quackity protests. Rolling over onto his back, he reaches out as far as he can and grabs Multi's hand. He tugs Multi back to himself, “going already? That's low, even for you.”
With every word, Quackity is testing him. His patience, his instincts, even after going at it like animals.
“Quackity…”
“You've got time,” he doesn't leave room for objection, “c'mon.”
And Multi is so, so weak.
“Yeah,” he gives in, “I've got time.”
All Multi can do is give into Quackity again, and again.