Chapter Text
A niggling sense of wrongness is what brought Edgar to the door. Peering inside with his enhanced senses, he found Jonathan lying on his bed. Strange, considering it was the middle of the night. He could faintly hear arduous breathing as well. Edgar's mind leapt to some conclusions that made him blush, but he quickly banished them from his mind. It just seemed too uncharacteristic of Jonathan.
Steeling himself, Edgar knocked on the door. A grunt was the only response he got.
"Dr. Reid?" he called out uncertainly. There was a strained gasp, but nothing else as Edgar waited a few moments. "I-I'm coming in!" he declared, turning the knob and cautiously pushing the door open.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, he shut the door behind him. He had no idea what he was going to encounter in here.
His eyes were immediately drawn to the movement on the far side of the room, and what he saw caused him to freeze, still right by the door. Laying there with nothing but bedsheets teasingly covering effectively none of him was a completely naked Jonathan Reid.
Edgar nearly turned and bolted right there, but he remained rooted to the spot. Jonathan, for his part, didn't seem to have noticed the intrusion. Then again, Edgar wasn't sure what would get his notice.
Jonathan's eyes were wild, he was writhing about as though it was impossible for him to keep still, and he was panting, fangs visible. One of his wrists was tied to a bedpost. Edgar averted his eyes, finding Jonathan's clothes haphazardly thrown on the ground. His gaze followed the trail to its start, at Jonathan's desk with the microscope still set up for examining a prepared blood sample slide. His tie, the first piece of clothing to be removed and discarded, lay right next to a pushed over chair.
Even more puzzling.
Since Jonathan had turned him, Edgar had worked on testing and using the strange, telepathic bond between them. Jonathan had learned how to keep his thoughts to himself unless he wished to share them with Edgar or he was too overcome with emotion. Edgar had learned how to but up a buffer that would prevent Jonathan's thoughts from intruding unless his Maker forced through it. Left with only questions and no one to answer them, Edgar brought down his mental barrier, seeking out Jonathan's thoughts.
He was slammed by a wave of thirst, his fangs sliding down reflexively. At least now he had a better understanding of what was going on. Having gotten what he wanted, Edgar mostly shielded himself again, only letting a hint of Jonathan's thoughts through.
Edgar knew what to do now. He strode purposefully towards the supine Jonathan, discarding his jacket and tie as he went. Once he got near Jonathan, a whine escaped the naked man's lips as his back arched up off of the bed. The hand that was bound clenched into a fist, tighter and tighter.
"Oh Jonathan, you don't have to suffer like this," Edgar said as he unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling his collar away from his neck. "To see you in such dire straits...I will do everything within my power to help you."
Upon reaching the bed, Jonathan began to still, no longer moving so erratically, actually turning his head to focus upon Edgar. It took every ounce of Edgar's willpower to keep himself from falling into the darkest depths of depravity. It was all some shameful fantasy brought to life, but not really. Jonathan was out of his mind not due to pleasure or lust but due to his thirst.
Logic and propriety were coming up short for Edgar, though, as he found himself half hard.
Edgar squashed his lustful feelings: he had a job to do. A job he was perfectly happy to perform.
The bed groaned under the additional weight as Edgar climbed on top of it. He crawled along it until he straddled Jonathan's abdomen, fighting to keep his gaze from lingering on the taut muscles there. Jonathan tensed underneath him, head turned away.
"Jonathan, take from me what you need," Edgar said, tilting his head to the side to bare even more of his neck. "Please, use me to sate your thirst." When Jonathan remained resolutely facing away from him, Edgar added, "I am more than happy to help you with this, my dear."
Hoping to tempt Jonathan enough to get him to stop being so stubborn, Edgar leaned down, bringing his offered neck closer to Jonathan's tightly shut mouth. Jonathan's free arm shot up, going around Edgar's back and grabbing hold of his shoulder. Gripping on tightly to his purchase, he managed to pull himself up enough to sink his fangs into Edgar's neck.
Edgar let out a lewd moan at the sudden, sharp pain. He had to brace his arms on either side of Jonathan as the man now hung off of him. Despite only having one arm to hold on with, Jonathan clung so close to Edgar they were practically flush.
The combination of their closeness and the feeling of Jonathan's lips on his neck, sucking his blood so eagerly and letting out his own indecent moans was making Edgar painfully hard. In his arousal he lamented the fact that he was still so clothed. If only there was nothing between them...
Edgar completely opened his connection with Jonathan, letting the full force of his blood-drinking ecstasy crash over him, mingling with his own feelings of pleasure until the two were indistinguishable. He wanted to collapse onto Jonathan, to cling to him in turn. Somehow he managed to remain still.
It had never occurred to Edgar that both parties could enjoy the act of blood drinking. Yet here he was now, floating in a pleasant haze. Each desperate gulp, possessive squeeze, and moan of pleasure further fueled Edgar's own pleasure. He found himself wanting to continue to please Jonathan, not wanting to end the moment. He wanted to give himself to Jonathan completely, even if every last drop of his blood was drained. He barely had enough rationality left to know he didn't want to die yet and that (hopefully) Jonathan would grieve his death, crushed with guilt.
Dizziness overcame Edgar. He knew he had to stop it now or not at all.
"Jonathan, stop."
Jonathan continued on like he hadn't heard him, much as Edgar had expected.
Arms shaking, Edgar pushed himself more upright, hoping Jonathan would find it difficult to remain latched on. Edgar gritted his teeth as he felt sharp nails dig into his shoulder as Jonathan successfully withstood his attempt to dislodge him. "Jonathan, please," Edgar pleaded.
Receiving no response once again, Edgar raised himself into an upright kneeling position, dragging Jonathan up with him. The new position was causing Jonathan to have his bound arm at an uncomfortable angle, but he didn't seem to mind. Edgar placed a hand on the shoulder of his other arm and pushed against it, using all of the strength he could summon. Edgar could feel the claws in his shoulders slowly being pulled out of him, the pain growing worse as it was drawn out. Jonathan's fangs followed shortly after, leaving aching and bloody puncture marks on Edgar's throat.
Once Jonathan was almost lying flat underneath him, Edgar grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the bed, stretching Jonathan's arm out so that both were spread out, leaving Jonathan unable to assault Edgar any longer. Finally out of the dangerous situation, Edgar stared down at Jonathan's face, searching for some sign of lucidity. What he saw caused his throat to become dry. Jonathan's head was tilted back, clearly lost in the throes of ecstasy that came from drinking blood, the evidence of it still dripping from his lips into the dark hair of his beard. Jonathan was letting out little gasps, joined by Edgar's own as he felt the high secondhand.
After a few moments, Jonathan blinked a few times before staring up at Edgar with a confused expression. He had closed off his mind again, his feelings no longer flooding over. His eyes darted to look at the nearly healed but still very bloodied wounds on Edgar's neck.
"I'm sorry, Edgar," Jonathan said, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush.
"No need to apologize, my dear. I took it upon myself to provide you assistance," Edgar reassured him.
Jonathan's eyes began to wander to get a better understanding of the whole picture. They trailed down his naked body, briefly glancing at the bulge in Edgar's pants before lingering on the hand still holding down his wrist. Jonathan didn't blush, but Edgar heard his heartbeat pick up slightly. Feeling embarrassed, Edgar glanced down and caught sight of something that caused his eyes to widen. Bare and with nothing to hide behind, he could clearly see Jonathan's own member beginning to harden.
Jonathan cleared his throat, causing Edgar to reflexively look back up at him. "Well, you have my thanks, Edgar. You have given me the help I needed so you can return to other matters now."
An attempt to dismiss him without discussing anything? Even though there were important things to talk about. Edgar frowned, not willing to release Jonathan just yet. He didn't want the man to run away from addressing both the awkward situation they were in and what had caused the situation to even arise.
"Jonathan, why did I find you in such a sorry state? Are you being overwhelmed by your hunger?"
"A momentary lapse. I misjudged how hungry I was. You really needn't worry so much about me." Jonathan wasn't even looking him in the eyes as he was saying this.
Jonathan began trying to sit up. Edgar, not thinking clearly, pressed his wrist back down to the mattress, keeping him pinned beneath him. Jonathan's heartrate picked up again, confusing Edgar. It's not like Jonathan would have any reason to be scared of him. They both were well aware that Jonathan could easily overpower Edgar. Now was not the time to try to parse that out, though. "Don't try to tell me not to worry. There's a whole hospital of potential victims if you succumb to your condition."
"I wasn't so far gone that I didn't ensure that I would do no harm," Jonathan protested, scowling.
Edgar sighed. "Would you please explain to me, Jonathan, what exactly happened?" He finally let go of Jonathan's wrist and sat back, putting some space between them.
There was an odd look in Jonathan's eye as Edgar let go, but Edgar was unable to discern what it meant. Jonathan had to look away as he untied the rope binding his wrist. When he was no longer restrained, Jonathan sat up so they were at eye level as he explained, "I still run into trouble at times when I am checking in on the citizens. Fighting takes its toll, and there were more mindless, infected skals to replenish myself with before I succeeded as London's champion. I haven't kept properly fed; rat blood can only do so much. As my hunger surged, I was overcome with an insidious discomfort, painfully aware of the feel of the clothes on my skin. So I found myself shedding them. I had enough presence of mind to do something to prevent myself from roaming freely in my madness. And then you found me in this state."
"Jonathan, promise me that if you find yourself wanting again you'll come find me." Edgar reached out to grab Jonathan's free hand, holding it in both of his own. "Let me help you," he said, staring into Jonathan's eyes, expression earnest.
Jonathan frowned. "I never intended for you to be a source of sustenance for me." He was still for a moment as he concentrated intently on Edgar. "I took too much from you. Please, drink some of my blood in return. I don't wish for you to starve because of me."
"Now this is getting ridiculous!"
"Don't be a hypocrite now, Edgar. Come. Drink." Saying this, Jonathan titled his head back, stretching out his neck invitingly.
Edgar hesitated, although he was keenly aware of the fangs in his mouth. His hunger had been brought to the forefront of his mind when Jonathan had pointed it out.
Jonathan reached up and put a hand on the back of Edgar's head. Gentle pressure guided his head towards Jonathan's throat. "Bite," he commanded, stopping just short of pressing Edgar's fangs to his skin himself.
So close, Edgar couldn't resist. Obediently he bit down, just barely enough to break flesh. He didn't wish to get swept away. Blood flowed out in little rivulets he lapped up eagerly. The blood warmed him, intoxicating him.
Jonathan's hand applied more pressure to the back of Edgar's head. "Harder," he breathed, barely audible.
It was as though he had used his vampiric mesmerization to influence Edgar, although Edgar knew that's not what had happened. Still, he found himself becoming almost animalistic as he bit down harder. Fangs digging deeper and deeper as he was urged on, Jonathan's pain and pleasure mixing with his own bliss. Blood flooded his mouth almost quicker than he could swallow. Edgar lost all awareness except for that sweet ambrosia, filling in the gnawing emptiness.
Edgar was jolted back to reality by a sudden brush of movement calling attention to his painfully needy lower region. At some point during his feeding, he had totally forgotten about attempting to keep a proper distance and had ended up flush against Jonathan. One small buck of the hips from the naked man underneath him, their hardened cocks brushing against each other briefly before Jonathan had stilled... It was enough to pull Edgar out of his bloodlust, giving him the strength of will to ease his mouth off of Jonathan's neck.
Panting, Edgar looked down at Jonathan, searching for an answer to a question he hadn't yet vocalized. Jonathan stared back up at him, also panting, also questioning, and-Edgar hoped-also aroused.
"Jonathan, I-"
"Edgar-"
They both began at the same time, then paused as they tried to determine who should speak first. A knock at the door wedged itself in as a new thing that required their consideration.
"Dr. Reid, I had a few questions I wanted to ask you if you had the time," Dr. Strickland called through the door.
The two froze for a few seconds, aware of the state they were in. They both still had each other's blood staining their lips, and combined with the position they were currently in and their full on erections it left them in a highly inappropriate scenario to be caught in.
Luckily Jonathan found his voice first. "Ah, yes. Give me a moment to make myself presentable."
Gears managed to turn in Edgar's head, and he was careful to remain silent, easing himself off of the bed. Neither of them spoke for fear of being overheard. Jonathan went about collecting his clothes and putting them on, acting as though he was going through his normal, everyday routine. Edgar stood awkwardly watching him for a few moments before grabbing his own few pieces of discarded clothing.
Pulling on his jacket, Edgar cast one last glance at Jonathan. He was in the middle of buttoning up his vest and a surreptitious look downwards saw no remaining evidence of his erection as opposed to Edgar's own still straining uncomfortably against his trousers. Unfair, and also something that sowed some doubt in Edgar.
Fully clothed, if not presentable, Edgar headed for the door to the balcony. As much as he wanted to talk with Jonathan about what had happened and what it meant for them now, he would have to wait. Checking for any passersby first, Edgar jumped down to the ground, landing without a sound.
Edgar was aware of the damp patch on his pants, and resigned himself to knowing the shameful thing he would end up doing to address the personal problem he was left with. He would sneak back to his office, ensuring no one saw him, and then he would take his time to imagine what might have happened next if they hadn't been interrupted.