#davlin

Darlin laughed and then snagged his beer.

“Get your own,” he griped but rolled his eyes when the finished it.

“We’re sharing!”

“The fuck we are!”

Darlin pouted. “Well, someone’s cranky today…”

“Well, someone needs to shut the fuck up,” he countered, but flagged the bartender for another, signaling for a second bottle for the shifter next to him.

Someone else came up to them… or rather, came up to Darlin.

David glanced over his shoulder at the vampire looking Darlin over from head to toe, lingering on their neck.

Darlin, for their part, stared back, mostly bored.

“I heard you’re into biting,” the vampire said, not having to raise their voice to have it slithering in their ears.

David swiveled to the side, more than ready to show this biter just how fast a shifter could move.

But Darlin grinned. “I am. But you can go back and tell him that his little teeth don’t do it for me anymore.”

David raised an eyebrow, not sure what they meant until the vampire hissed and bolted back into the crowd. It was fast enough that he barely clocked them until they reappeared on the other side of the club, at a cluster of couches and next to another vampire.

Quinn.

David turned forward before he could show that he even noticed him, picking up a beer and taking the first drink. He knew Darlin was staring back at their ex from across the room. He’d been a nightmare and the breakup had been violent and ugly, but that was a few years ago now. Darlin was back with the pack, safe and happy, just like he’d always hoped they would be.

David passed them the beer in his hand and they took it like that was always the plan. “Little teeth, huh?”

Darlin sipped and shrugged, turning their head to look back at him. “I know it’s petty but if he’s going to send his creeps to try to make me uncomfortable I figure it’s fair to try to piss him off…”

David shook his head. “It’s not petty.”

Darlin took another swig and then passed the bottle back to him. “He’s always thought you and me had a thing.”

David looked at them again. The idea sent a jolt through him, maybe because he’d always had a soft spot for Darlin. Maybe Quinn wasn’t quite as stupid as David always thought… “Do you want to really piss him off?”

Darlin blinked at him, trying to play it cool, but their gaze flicked to his mouth for a second and then back his eyes. “What?”

David shrugged.

Darlin smiled slowly. “Seriously?”

David shrugged again.

Darlin flashed teeth, tempted. “He might lose it…”

“He already lost it,” David reminded, waiting. And let that biter make a move. David wasn’t worried.

Darlin slid their back along the bar, into his space, and he lifted his arm from the surface to give them that real estate in front of him, his hand settling on their hip.

Darlin curled an arm around the back of his shoulders. “You drunk?” they asked, checking.

He laughed before he could catch it. The idea of them checking to make sure they weren’t taking advantage of him was too funny.

“Shut up,” Darlin laughed while scolding.

He leaned down and kissed them, soft and short first, their lips still close and their bodies practically pressed together.

Darlin blinked, stunned, and then kissed him harder, pulling themself flush against him.

David wound his arm around their back, devouring that kiss like it might be his only.

Later that morning, he’d know that he forgot the kiss was to piss off Quinn the second they slid in front of him, and so had they.

But it had still worked.

Later that morning, he’d hear from Milo how Quinn shot across the room like a missile, fangs out.

He hadn’t known then only because Quinn never made it close enough for it to matter. Asher caught him halfway across the club, shifting into a wolf and closing teeth around his ribcage before he made it.

Reuben grabbed his hair and pulled his head backward. Davlin was already weak from prior abuse, he could not protest any more. He could only manage grunts through heavy breaths. He tried to remain strong, keeping his eyes on Reuben, not allowing himself to show weakness by averting his gaze, but this facade was breaking fast now. Reuben brought his face close to Davlin's ear, his lips almost touching. He felt the warmth from his oppressor's breath down his neck, and the sweat it moved every time he exhaled. "You're guilty. Do you hear me? You're fucking guilty and you fucking know it. You did this." He whispered, his words pointed, cutting. Reuben brought his hand to Davlin's neck stroking the length of it softly with his fingertips. His hands were course from a buildup of Davlin's blood. His eyes went to Davlin's Adam's apple, watching it rise and lower with every gulp. He was lost in thought, weaving through a mind forest of threats, deciding which to use next.

Fresh blood ran down Davlin's chin from his lip and dropped onto his sweat-stained shirt. His mouth was full of blood from split lips, split cheeks, and sinus damage. As Reuben leaned back, he spat all of it into his face. "Fuck!" Reuben let go of his hair and Davlin's head dropped, he couldn't help but cough whatever was left in his mouth and throat out onto his lap. He was restrained to a chair with his arms tied behind him and his legs to the feet of it. He was already messy, what were a few more droplets of bodily fluids? Reuben regained his composure quickly, wiping his face. He punched Davlin in the stomach and grabbed his hair again before he could coil forward in pain. Davlin yelled out, unable to withstand each new hit that added to all the pain he was already feeling. He couldn't persist in his stoic demeanor any longer and he dropped all composure. His eyebrows furrowed upwards and he couldn't stop the few tears that fell. His face finally displayed all the fear he was feeling.