#danflower

word count: 850 content: steamy fade to black, blood/injury, vulgar language, dementia & memory loss

Tossing the wolf inside, Helio thuds against the desk, and Danny shuts the door. Now the music is gone, even to Danny’s ears, for he had his office soundproofed by vampires. It leaves near-silence between them, with only the sound of Helio’s haggard breaths and blood pumping through his mortal body.

Helio hasn’t bothered to wipe away the blood leaking from his lip, so it drips past his chin and slides down his neck. His brown eyes glow gold with wolf inside him. “Asshole!”

“You can’t fight in my club,” he says. “Save it for the Underground. Do you know how many humans are out there? What if one of you had shifted?”

Helio scoffs. “That wouldn’t happen.”

Danny agrees with him. If he’s about to be promoted, he certainly wouldn’t lose control over a snide insult. “Maybe not you, but what about that asshole?”

“He had it coming.”

“Because he talked bad about your pack? Grow up.” Danny feels the reluctance in his chest as he speaks. He’s only twenty-five, a toddler in purebred years.

“I don’t give a shit what he says about my pack. We’ve been going at it for years.”

Danny hesitates before laughing with antipathy. “Over a joke, then?” “It’s not a fucking joke,” Helio shoves Danny with all his might, which sends him lightly into the wall. “You wouldn’t understand. You live forever and you don’t have to worry about forgetting anything.”

Danny grows silent, realizing that when the asshole had said, “your Alpha had to step down because she couldn’t fucking remember how to shift anymore,” he’d meant it literally. That is not a joke, but it doesn’t excuse throwing someone across his club.

No, Danny doesn’t understand what it’s like to forget. He remembers every waking moment of his unending night.

Danny grabs Helio and spins them around, so now he pins the werewolf. He can’t help the sarcasm in his tone, “No, you’re right. I wouldn’t understand. I remember everything. Five thousand years of suffering that can never end. Aren’t I lucky?”

Helio’s eyes widen, any last glimpse of fury gone, leaving only shock in his brown eyes. His torn tank top strap hangs, leaving his right shoulder bare. The blood trickling down his neck begins to dry. Danny glares into his eyes, but the werewolf’s gaze drifts lower.

To Danny’s lips.

With a swift movement, Helio yanks him closer, leaning his head down to close the gap and plant his mouth onto his.

This is exactly what Danny was afraid would happen. If the Order doesn’t want him to do this, he should pull away. He should ban Helio from his club for starting a fight. Maybe he should even pick up and move somewhere else to avoid the inevitable supernatural dilemma. But he tastes the fresh blood from Helio’s lip, and it’s much sweeter than it smells. He’s kissing a werewolf—something he has never experienced, despite his years. He doesn’t want to stop.

Knowing it’ll piss off the Order just makes him want to do it more. He presses himself against Helio, hip points digging into each other. He runs his tongue along the inside of Helio’s lip, finding the bleeding cut, letting another few drops of blood flow across his tongue. The werewolf’s breaths shake, too erratic for him to tell if its nerves or excitement.

He moves away from Helio’s mouth and follows the trail of blood, kissing it off of his chin, his jaw. Arteries pump emphatically just under the skin, and Danny can sense Helio’s hair stand up and his breath catch in his throat as he moves down to his neck.

Something hard emerges against his hips as his tongue reaches the crevice where throat meets clavicle, licking away the last of the blood.

“Shit…” Helio hisses.

All the logic in Danny’s head tells him to stop; that he should listen to the Order; that he shouldn’t create enemies of an entire pack. But his hand doesn’t listen as it travels down Helio’s smooth chest and into his pants.

Helio’s body tenses and his harsh fingers coil around the collar of Danny’s blouse. For a moment, his eyes are a hot glare, as if to say how dare you? He means to push the vampire away, tell him to stop, curse him to hell, maybe even punch him. But just like Danny, he loses his inner debate. His weight gives in to the wall, allowing Danny’s hand to move deeper. Gentle lips back in the crook of his neck, Helio releases a low moan.

After a few long moments, hickey already forming, Helio speaks, breath tight and caught in his chest. “Fuck me."

Danny pulls away from his collarbone, curiosity twinkling in his eyes. He rises onto his toes so that their noses brush softly and he can taste Helio’s unsteady breaths against his mouth. The vampire’s hand, still deep in Helio’s pants, slows its movements and his voice resonates with smooth velvet once more.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Helio, biting his lip to stifle another moan, says again, “Fuck me."

Danny kneels in front of the couch where Helio sits slumped, rubbing and rotating his swollen wrists. He jolts with surprise as Danny’s hand presses against his bare chest, pushing him to lean further against the sofa. “Sit up straight.” Helio obliges, but as he tries to sit up against the back of the sofa, he grunts and a hand instinctively reaches for his wound. Danny catches the hand before it covers the injury, gently pulling it away. He can see the wound clearer, no longer half covered by Helio’s hunched torso. It’s deep, at least one rib is cracked (if not broken) from where the bullet penetrated, which would explain the shaky breathing. The only reason he’s conscious is because he’s a werewolf and his body is trying to heal itself—but it can’t because the silver bullet remains deep inside. The skin on the outside has healed over it, but the inside is still raw, and if the rib did heal itself, it must not have healed in the proper place. Danny has had decent medical training throughout his many, many identities, but shouldn’t remove a bullet without any tools. The daggers hidden on his person aren’t ideal. But what would be ideal, and humane, would be general anesthesia. “What’s wrong?” Lara asks, moving into Danny’s peripheral vision. “Yeah, Doc?” Helio’s joking doesn’t disguise the worry in his eyes. Mortals need answers for things before they allow you to poke and prod, even when there are none to give. “I want to see if you have silver poisoning.” Helio’s brows furrow. “How do you do that?” Danny meets his eyes grimly. “Oh… you have to drink my blood.” “Or open your wound back up,” Danny offers. Helio fidgets. “No, no. Drinking is fine.” Danny pulls down his mask so Helio can see his smirk. The last time they saw each other, Helio broke up with him in front of Brad. The last thing Helio said to him was it’s over. Despite that, though, his sickly pale cheeks flush. “Don’t get excited,” Danny teases. Helio tries to glare, but it’s weak. “Shut up.” Danny notices the phoenix’s heart rate behind him jump. Taking Helio’s hand from his lap, Danny lays a brief kiss on his thumb before a fang clicks. It breaks the skin, thin as a paper cut, enough for a few drops of blood to absorb onto his tongue. A little bitterness, but mostly sweet, but with a strong metallic aftertaste that shouldn’t be there. His eyes darken as he pulls away, but doesn’t let go of Helio’s hand.

“I know a lot of the things people say are lies. Obviously you show up in mirrors,” he says, looking over his head to see both of them reflecting in the mirror above his tiny dresser. “And I know you’re not allergic to silver. I can tell you have enhanced strength and speed, and I assume the garlic allergy is bullshit too, but…” He clears his throat. “What about that ‘glamouring’ thing?”

Danny’s eyes twinkle with a sly smirk. “You’ve really never met a vampire before, have you?”

Helio pauses sheepishly and shakes his head.

He draws shapes against Danny’s smooth, hairless chest with his finger. “Other than watching fights, no. We have a long history of hunting and killing vampires until around ninety years ago.”

“That fucking Treaty.” Danny sighs. “Such a waste.”

Despite his tone, his face seems unwrinkled; unbothered. He’s quite beautiful, just lying there, so still he could pass for dead.

He is dead.

After a moment, Helio nudges him. “Are you going to answer me?”

Danny pushes himself up onto his elbows, his spine curving and emphasizing his tiny waist. Helio studies the bend of his back and the muscles lining his abdomen until he catches a glimpse of a devilish smile with fangs not yet retracted.

“You think I’ve used it on you?”

His tone is that smooth velvet again that makes Helio shudder, but forces it down as he nudges him. “So you can do it.”

“Yes,” he says. “We do have the ability to seduce through eye contact, touch, or voice.”

The finger that’s been tracing designs against Danny’s chest freezes when he hears “or voice.” Helio’s heart jumps and Danny smiles with satisfaction as if he’d heard it.

“You would know if I’d used it on you, Sunflower.”

Danny closes the gap and kisses him but Helio doesn’t kiss back, distracted, unconvinced. A chill runs down his spine.

Pulling back to examine his concerned features, he tilts his head to the side, eyes wide with curiosity. “You think I’d lie?”

Helio shrugs. “Dunno. Mari says I’m pretty dense.”

“She’s right.” Danny elegantly falls back down against the sheets. “Glamouring isn’t inconspicuous. Some people don’t realize it until after the effect has worn off, but most are aware that something is influencing them, they just can’t quite place it. But it depends on how obvious the vampire wants to be.”

Helio keeps his eyes on the sheets.

“You think I’d need such a sneaky trick to get you in bed, hmm?”

One moment Danny will seem genuine, and the next, his mask is so thick Helio’s unsure if there’s a person underneath. It doesn’t seem his style to glamour someone into bed, though.

Still, when he answers, his voice lacks confidence. “No, I dunno…”

The vampire’s next movement is so quick, it goes unseen. Danny’s on top of him, holding himself up with his hands on either side of Helio’s face. Helio wiggles to break free from instinct, but Danny’s legs tenderly hold his hips in place.

Danny’s head lowers so his voice whispers into his left ear, so smooth it’s as if his words are made just for him. “You don’t know…?”

Helio’s eyes squeeze shut and his body grows heavy, numb. He can’t feel the sheets or mattress underneath him or even the air. All he can feel is Danny’s soft skin against his hips and slender fingers tracing along the lines on his chest.

His heart races, but in a good way—the same way it would when Danny ran his fang down his throat or a finger up his thigh. But there’s something about it that feels off. Normally he’d speak, shoot Danny a sassy retort, but his breath is shallow and he can’t hold on to his thoughts. Even with his eyes shut he feels the world falling away.

He forces his eyes open but it’s a mistake. Danny’s bright black irises stare at him with a look so full of deep wanting that it makes his spine arch. He must be closer to him, he must smell him, breathe him in, touch him—he’s mine. He reaches up to pull Danny closer and connect, kiss, but Danny is gone.

The heaviness, that strange air, the dizzying buzz in his ears are gone. Helio blinks a few times. No one is on top of him. Did that actually happen or was it was all in my head?

The numbness fades, replaced by a tingling that makes his body tremble. But he manages to flip onto his side, grabbing the only pillow that survived their antics and throwing it at Danny who sits cross-legged by the foot of the bed like nothing happened.

He catches the pillow easily and sets it in his lap. His voice is just as delicate as when he’d been next to Helio’s ear, but it doesn’t have that same dizzying effect. “Told ya you would know.”

Helio’s voice breaks. “¡Vete a la mierda!”

Danny smiles with an innocent shrug. “You seemed unconvinced.”

“So that’s how you convince me?”

A wink. “It worked, didn’t it?”

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