Pairing: Hucklerobby (Whitaker x Robby)
Summary: Vlad takes on the identity of a doctor to get access to blood and everyone buys it but a specific senior attending.
Contains: 18+, MDNI, blood, descriptions of medical procedures, vampires, erections, identity fraud, cross over, biting, making out.
A/N: Yes I did watch the entirety of Young Dracula before writing this, yes I did not like the ending. Vlad is obviously aged up so he's Whitaker's canon age, don't ask me how vampire anatomy works, I've been debating that with my friends for a day about it. Might write a part two.
Vlad had made a mistake, a huge one. Choosing to remain a vampire on his 18th birthday went against al his wishes and dreams, he had a chance at a family, a real one with his biological mom and half sister, one far away from anything vampire. He couldn’t remember exactly what drove him not to step into the sunlight, but he spent the following years regretting it.
The vampire high council stopped caring, stopped keeping tabs on him, they assumed their chosen one was eventually going to take them to glory like the prophecy stated, so whatever Vlad decided to do in the meantime wasn’t really of their concern.
Vlad took in several names, identities since explaining that his actual name was Vladimir Dracula and he wasn’t a vampire wasn’t believable for breathers. He could always wipe their minds, but he cherished humans, he truly did want them to live in peace and harmony but it was starting to get harder and harder to uphold the ceasefire between them. Which is how Vlad found himself leaving England in search of a way for coexistence, he needed up in the USA, he roamed for years taking up several hobbies, he was a barista, a singer, a college student, all until he got close to getting found out and he skipped town and did it all over again.
Eventually he got interested in medicine, if he could understand human anatomy in a deeper level maybe he could fins what it was that made them so different from vampires. He found a new name, Dennis Whitaker.
He played the part well, farm boy from middle of nowhere Nebraska, somewhere they couldn’t trace him back to, lost his British accent, he got good at pretending. He blinked on time, forced his dead heart to move on beat when needed.
He got through med school, through residency until he ended up at PTMC, he learned another benefit of playing doctor, access to refrigerated blood instead of having to drink the soy blood he was growing tired of and avoiding the indignity offing just like his father and tormenting innocent humans just for a meal. He’s not proud of it, he’s just practical.
He controls his reactions around open wounds and blood, he can hold in the fight or flight reflex that cafeteria garlic bread gives him, until he starts getting closer to Robby.
Robby is the exact kind of man vampires should avoid, observant, controlling, infuriatingly competent, the kind of attending that can clock an intern’s caffeine crash from across the er and still remember exactly who mischarted a patient three days ago.
The kind of man who can look at “Dennis Whitaker” with furrowed eyebrows like can’t choose between taking care of him and pushing him away. Robby starts noticing things, like how Dennis never eats lunch, always a single bite and never the whole sandwich or meal, just enough to give the appereance of eating and not taking in any sustenance. He notices Dennis runs cold yet is never seen wearing a jacket, he notices he’s too pale but disregards it as just a stressed and anxious med student, he remembers his own days of surviving on cup noodles and coffee trough med school.
But Robby notices the blood bank discrepancy before anyone else does.
It starts with missing units, small amounts. One O negative, two AB positive, always logged weirdly, always under doctors and nurses that had no business being in the er, Mark from neurosurgery, Amanda from ortho, Jane from dermatology.
That lasts a couple weeks, he started consciously hovering near the fridges, someone must’ve gotten nervous because soon after every missing bag a random person walks in coincidentally to donate blood. Like. Making up for the missing liters, a woman who was on her way to work gets the urge to donate, a lady from the cafeteria, a janitor, a nurse. All donating after a unit gets logged off.
Robby remains observant and he starts noticing Dennis more near these incidents, he stays late even after finishing his charts, starts taking up double shifts so he stays in the night shift, Dennis who shows up after a missing unit of blood looking less hollow, less brittle, less wincing at the sight of blood, except he doesn’t wince backwards, but forwards.
Robby doesn’t say anything at first, he watches. And then he catches him slip.
It’s eleven am, not even halfway through the shift and Dennis cuts into an arterial pumper under a blood blister, making it spray blood up and into his mouth. He twitches, panics, yells for help as he closes his mouth shut and tries not to let his fans be as visible near the patient, much less to Mel who walks in after he asks for help.
Mel helps him deal with the patient, stopping the blood with a blood pressure cuff, he was grateful for Mel and her inability hold eye contact or otherwise she would’ve caught how Dennis’ canines were longer than normal as he briefed her on the patient. He goes on to administer 10 ccs of 1 percent lidocaine with epinephrine swallowing back as much blood as possible out of Mel and the patient’s sight, his hands were trembling, not from having made a mistake but from how bad he was fighting himself from sinking his teeth into the patient’s neck and getting a taste of fresh, warm blood.
Robby walks in as he’s learning to tie a figure of eight suture, Dennis is calmer now, biting down on the inside of his cheek to control himself, repeating his mantra internally not to lash out, but he wants this whole interaction to end as fast as possible, he wants to bold out of there and run to the blood fridge for something bigger to eat.
Robby’s eyes zero in on the blood splashes on the wall and later to the blood on Dennis’ chest and neck, he notices the lack of blood near his mouth, although stains on his cheeks prove some did lands there … did he lick it off?
“I’m so sorry … I-“ Dennis’ voice trembles, mouth still held shut to hide his fangs.
After Robby dismisses him to change scrubs Dennis takes his chance, he walks out of there like a man on a mission and heads straight to the blood fridge, he takes one of the doctor IDs he had stolen before and unlocks the door, he lets his fangs sink into the bag, feeling the red liquid fill his mouth, he lets out a soft moan in relief.
Robby finishes up with the patient, leaving the rest to Mohan before walking out to look for Dennis, before he even makes it out the door Collins talks to him, he doesn’t want to be rude but he can’t forget his earlier interaction with Dennis, he needs to find him, so he dismisses Collins after their chat and rushes into the blood room. There’s nothing there, no sight of Dennis, just a missing liter of o-neg and a blood stain on the floor.
Robby decides to set a little trap, the next day he crowds Dennis, never letting him out of eye sight, calls him for every incoming trauma, the bloodier the better, he’s poking the bear, just to see what happens. Once their shift ends Robby turns the lights off on the blood bank and sits in the darkness, he knows Dennis works the night shift too so he waits.
At 2:47 the door opens, without even turning on the light he hears the fridge open, Robby stands in the dark, arms crosses, waiting with the kind of patience that feels like violence, he reaches for the light switch, flipping it up to turn the lights on.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Robby says flatly.
Dennis spins around so fast the bad nearly slips, blood smears red across his lips and chin, his eyes are blown wide and bright in the dar, tinted subtly red and his fangs are out fully. He expected Robby to be scared, terrified even, to run out screaming and call the police.
Instead, he mostly looks annoyed.
“This isn’t what it looks like” Dennis gulps, swallowing the blood he had in his mouth.
“You are drinking hospital blood in my supply room like a juice box”
Dennis lifts his chin “That’s circumstantial”
“You have fangs” Robby takes a step forward, making Dennis hiss, he stops and looks at him, then at the blood bag, and then up again.
“Yes, well now that you’ve said it out loud it does sound incriminating”
The confession is worse than Robby expected, because it wasn’t some cute little “oops, I got turned into a vampire in the parking lot and am now learning to live with it”. No, it’s layered, it’s messy, it’s well thought out.
Vladimir Dracula, heir to an actual vampire line ran away from home, forged an entirely human identity and build “Dennis Whitaker” from the ground up because it was easier than being what he was born into, and what he chose to remain. He didn’t want the castle, didn’t want the title, didn’t want the expectations of being the chosen one. So he became a doctor, or close enough, he tells Robby this while leaning into the supply shelves, sipping casually on the bag in his hands.
“I needed access” Vlad says
Robby folds his arms, “To a hospital?”
“To my blood bank” Robby says more annoyed than anything.
“Technically it’s not yours, it belongs to the hospital.” That makes Robby give him a look.
Vlad has the decency to look mildly embarrassed “In my defense I only take very old blood and mind control people to replenish the supply every once in a while”.
Robby should report him, he absolutely should. Identity theft, fraud, probably a dozen crimes he doesn’t know about but here’s the problem: Vlad’s a liar, a thief, objectively a nightmare. But he’s not killing anyone, he’s not attacking patients, he’s taking bags because it’s the least violent way he knows how to survive. And Robby, damn him, He understands survival when he sees it.
So instead of calling security or grabbing a garlic bulb he does the worst possible thing.
“You’re done stealing from the hospital” Vlad goes still, not dramatically, silently, like a predator, the kind of still that makes the room feel smaller.
“I don’t have another source” Vlad whispers, almost too quietly for Robby to hear.
“You do now” Robby rolls up his sleeve and for the first time since this whole conversation started Vlad looks genuinely shaken.
“You need blood. You’re not taking it from supply anymore.” Vlad stares at the exposed wrist like it’s a trap.
“That is,” he says carefully, “a horribly bad idea”.
“Probably” Robby answers.
“I could hurt you” Vlad is trying to make sense of the situation, was his human boss really offering himself as a blood supply?
Robby shrugs, that makes Vlad laugh. “You’re insane”
“I’m solving a problem” Robby takes a step forward.
“This is not ideal solving”
“It is at 3 am” Robby grins.
And that’s what makes the situation impossible, because Robby is not afraid, he should be, he knows as much, he should be backing away, calling anyone, the police, security, Jack, a priest, instead he takes another step closer, offers his wrist up to Vlad like it’s a challenge. Like he’s not standing inches away from a vampire who can listen to his heartbeat, which is steady and strong, completely unafraid.
Vlad steps close too, because his need for blood is momentarily overridden by his need to be seen, not as Dennis the endearing doctor, but as Vlad, as what he tries so hard to hide each day. He presses his nose to Robby’s wrist, taking in the scent of the moment, the dangerous edge in which both of them are standing.
“I can’t, I don’t feed from breathers” Vlad murmurs, lips almost pressed close to the pulse point that beats close to him.
“Vlad” Robby says his real name for the first time, not Dennis, not Whitaker, Vlad. And fuck that does something to him.
He lets his fangs sink into Robby’s wrist, not desperate, but strategical, he pierces the skin just enough to get into a small vein, not big enough to make the blood gush out but to let a slow and steady trickle of blood wet his lips. He looks up at Robby and the sight shocks him, Robby’s face is red, his breath quickens and he can hear his heartbeat pound wildly. He’s … aroused. A quick glance down confirms it, he can see a very distinguishable tent forming into his jeans. Vlad grins as he wraps his lips around the small punctures in the wrist and sucks harder on the wound, demanding the blood to come out for him, he holds eye contact with Robby the whole time.
Robby looks down at this beautiful man, “no”, he thinks to himself, vampire, to this beautiful vampire sucking on his wrist like he’s having a feast, like nectar from the gods flows out of him, he can feel Vlad’s wet, cold tongue lap at the blood, urging the blood out and the sight makes Robby groan.
Vlad chuckles in an almost audible laugh and he lets his mouth away from the wrist to speak “You’re enjoying this”, he teases.
“Can’t say I’m not …” Robby avoids the shorter man’s gaze and takes a deep breath to try to collect himself. He dresses the wound with a bandage and adjusts the bulge in his pants.
Vlad licks the remaining drops of blood from the corner of his mouth, he was starting to notice how his actions were affecting the older man and he wanted to push, wanted to see the outcome of Robby getting cornered.
It was cruel, unwise but Vlad had spent years starving himself to become something manageable, something small, something safe enough for humans to be around. He had spent years sanding down every sharp edge until “Dennis Whitaker” was all soft smiles and awards apologies and polite little nods.
And now Robby had just offered him his wrist like a sacrifice and stood there panting through it. Vlad was only so strong. He stepped forward.
“What are you doing?” Robby asks, gulping at the great difference he could know see between “Dennis” and “Vlad”, he realized just how much of an act the other was putting on, Robby didn’t know what would happen once his real personality came through but he was starting to see the lines that blurred the two personas.
“Observing” Vlad says, voice low and almost feigning innocence as he tilts his head to look down the line of Robby’s throat, to the half open collar of his scrub top, then lower to the obvious strain in his pants.
“Don’t” Robby gives him a warning look, one that does nothing but excite Vlad.
“I could fire you for this” Robby pinches his nose bridge, trying to soothe the headache that was minutes away from forming.
“Fire me? What for? Unauthorized hematological intimacy?” Vlad chuckles, he was getting wittier and faster with his comebacks, like years of a dormant personality finally feeling safe enough to come up the surface.
“You’re being a brat” Robby answers.
“I’m a vampire”, Vlad corrects. “It’s cultural”.
That gets an unwilling snort out of Robby, and files the sound away somewhere in his heart, or chest cavity after a lack of heart, because it shouldn’t make him feel this warm, this hungry in a way that has very little to do with his bloodlust.
Vlad takes a step in closer until there’s barely an inch between them, he can feel the heat, the warmth coming off of Robby’s body, he can smell the antiseptic, coffee, skin, the sharp scent of adrenaline and the richer copper beneath the bandage on his wrist.
Robby’s hands land on Vlad’s waist, not pushing, not pulling, just there, present, fingers curling into the fabric of his scrubs like he needs to anchor himself. Vlad stills, and Robby notices immediately.
“What?” Robby’s hands hover now, afraid he crossed a boundary, pushed the vampire too far.
“You touched me” Vlad whispers, “No one…” he stops, because he refuses to say something pitiful and pathetic in the middle of being pinned between shelves and a man with a hard-on. So he clears his throat instead. “You’re making this very difficult”
Robby’s expression shifts into something softer, the same way he caught himself looking at Whitaker before uncovering his secret.
“For someone who insists this was a practical decision you’re acting ver non practically” Vlad murmurs.
“Shut up” Robby’s grip on his hip tightens.
“Make me” Those words spit out of Vlad’s mouth like venom were all Robby needed before grabbing him by the front of the other’s scrub top and yank him closer.
The kiss is not romantic, it is not careful, it’s not the kiss two rational adults should be having in the middle of a dimly lit blood bank in the middle of the night shift.
It’s sharp and messy and hungry in a way that makes Vlad whimper involuntarily into Robby’s mouth, a startled little noise that gets swallowed whole.
Robby kisses like he does everything else, with focus and intensity and the terrifying confidence of a man who’s already decided something and now the rest of the world has to catch up.
Vlad kisses like he’s starving, which to be fair, he has been. His hands come up so fast, one bracing against the shelf behind Robby’s head, the other sliding to Robby’s thigh, to wrap around his waist to pull him closer, close enough that Robby’s arousal presses directly against him, making Robby break the kiss with a rough exhale.
The sight of Vlad, once Whitaker the puppy intern being all dominating and demanding sparks something in Robby that he hadn’t felt in a long time.
So Robby kisses him again, slower at first, deeper, more deliberate, he can taste his own blood in the other’s mouth, one of his hands fists in Vlad’s shirt, the other slides to cup the back of his neck, finger bunching up in the base of his mullet.
Vlad whines audibly at the action, he can feel his knees about to give.
“Easy” Robby mutters against the other’s mouth, the same tone he uses with frightened patients, stubborn residents and now apparently vampires who might collapse if handled too well. “I’ve got you” He adds
It’s unfair the way that Robby is affecting him, the mere sight of him in this moment, lips swollen pink, eyes dark, throat exposed, veins pulsing. Vlad’s gaze lingers there, Robby notices.
Robby slides his hand down from Vlad’s neck to his jaw, thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth where a last trace of blood had dried there, the thumb comes away red. He presses it to Vlad’s mouth making him take the hint and part his lips to then take Robby’s thumb in, slowly, wrapping his lips around the digit and swirling his tongue around it to catch every last bit of the red liquid while keeping eye contact, his fangs drop grazing Robby’s thumb slightly.
Robby gasps "You're gonna kill me" He whispers
"That's exactly what I've been trying not to do, but something is starting to make me think you'd let me" Vlad answers softly while nuzzling into Robby's neck, he lets his nose graze up his neck to rest just below his ear.
The sudden feeling makes Robby gasp, the closeness is starting to make him feel light headed so he relieves the ache and kisses him again, delving his mouth deep into the vampire's to taste greedily, he pokes his tongue on the other's fangs on purpose and Vlad makes the kiss grow more heated the second he tastes the coppery iron taste in the kiss, he presses Robby further against the shelves.
Vlad's supernatural hearing alerts him of steps getting closer, reluctantly and with a great amount of power he breaks the kiss and nudges at Robby for him to listen to. They both fix their clothes and Robby takes a chart to cover his crotch.
Princess walks in to grab some blood bags.
Robby clears his throat and pretends to be giving Whitaker a lecture. "As I was telling you, we have to keep a tight control on blood withdrawals, so be careful next time you input the correct codes."
Vlad's back is turned to the nurse and he looks up to Robby like he's a five star meal laid out for him to feast on.
Princess walks out and nudges Perlah "The sexual tension between those two is getting harder to ignore"
Perlah laughs "It's like they're about to eat the other whole".
Vlad chuckles as he listens in on their conversation. "If only they knew..."
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