Chapter Text
It starts, in retrospect, with the night they met.
Okay, maybe not the exact night they met, as that had all gone rather piss poor for everyone involved, Anton reckons. And maybe not their next meeting, either, as they’d proceeded to (granted, unintentionally, and with plenty of warning) maim their good friend and future pack member. But the night they’d met officially, or anew, with handshakes and jokes and all the typical awkwardness of people trying to get along for the sake of their mutual connections, like spouses at a company mixer. Stu clearly held the vampires in high regard, and Stu was generally a smart man with a good judge of character, so Anton had to relent a little. There must be something to these strange little dudes to keep Stu around, and that was as good a reason as any.
Anton hadn’t touched many- any- vampires before that night. When he takes Viago’s hand, he’s startled to find it warm. Not as warm as his own (dogs running warmer than humans and all that) and still not as warm as a human’s so it still felt cool to the touch, but the heat of someone else’s blood was definitely present in the grasp. A weird but strangely alluring thought, and it made Anton wonder what other misconceptions he had about vampires, and what vampires thought of werewolves. He lingers perhaps a moment too long, looking at Viago and wondering if he thinks this is as momentous as he does, before finally withdrawing to meet the flatmates.
That feeling, that warmth, stays with him for weeks afterward. Anton grips the wheel of his jeep as he drives through the bush and feels the tingle of it, tightens his hand against the unforgiving leather to try and snap out of it. Gets weird looks from whoever he’s partnered with on any given day when these moments pass over him. He’s not unused to it, given his PMS-style mood swings around the full moons and the exhaustion that always hovers around him, so the looks don’t bother him so much as his own preoccupation.
A few weeks, maybe even a couple months after that first night, the vampires actually come forward to extend an invitation to them. It comes in the form of a text from Viago himself at a god awful time in the morning that Anton almost gets angry about before he remembers that the man has to sleep all day. It says, with an inordinate amount of texting shortcuts and contractions, that the vampires would like to have them over for a good faith game night a week after the next full moon. Anton blearily smiles at that little detail, at the fact that the vampires bothered to remember that he’d mentioned offhandedly it was when the whole pack felt most at ease in their cycle. He wonders how much of that was just Viago’s consideration.
He types out an enthusiastic enough response and even throws an emoticon in there for good measure just to make sure there’s no room for offense to be taken. They’re a bit quirky and get put off at anything but cordiality (even though two of three of them are dickheads), and even then, could be riled just by one of the pack walking past wrong, and Anton’s enjoying the tentative peace after the months of high tensions. He’s about to settle down to go back to sleep when Viago responds:
U r up l8. Or early?
Light sleeper, Anton taps out. Wolf hearing, he adds in another message. Have to be up in a jiff if one of the pack gets in trouble, he sends in a third, and then immediately second guesses triple texting someone he barely knows.
Do they barely know each other, though? They’ve been on each other’s peripheries for years.
I undrstnd, Viago‘s message pings through a second later, though, seemingly unperturbed. I must b the same way w/ Deacon and Vladislav. Perhaps we r similar in tht regard.
Maybe. Anyway, we’ll be there. C u then, he adds, a little joke for himself at the expense of Viago’s ridiculous texting linguistic habits.
Good night, Anton.
Anton smiles a little to himself again. Strange little dude.
The light feeling from the pleasant interaction and the thought of strengthening the relationship between the two groups carries Anton through the week leading up to the full moon. It’s hard not to let the effects of his wolf simmer to the surface, but he’s rather excited at the prospect of doing something to make his pack stronger, happier, and safer and he knows that despite residual tension, the pack want peace too. Having that to look forward to gives him something to focus on beyond the impending doom of the transformation.
The pack is looking forward to the game night, too, though Anton gathers that it’s mostly because they want to beat the vampires at their own games, so to speak. He tries to remind them in the time leading up to it that it’s not a competition, no one’s keeping score, and that it’s best not to poke the bear.
The moon is bad this go around, Anton can’t lie. He wakes up in a daze, still chained to his tree and bleeding slowly at the thighs from where his own claws had dug into the skin, and when he’s aware enough to look up, half of his pack is missing, their chains scattered around the clearing. He sighs, thankful that he’s off work for the day, and undoes the combination to his own lock, wincing with the impact of falling to the ground. It’s going to be a long day of searching for and gathering the boys.
When he finally falls into his bed that evening, his pack safely tucked away in their own flats or his living room, the exhaustion is bone deep. He’d barely had the energy to bathe before bed, and he runs a mournful hand over the new scars on his legs before getting under the covers. He’s about to fully pass out when his phone buzzes on the nightstand.
We heard u last nite. It sounded rough. Hope u r well :}
Anton snorts at the emoticon.
It was rough, he concedes, But we’re fine. And as an afterthought: Thank you.
And despite the state he’s in and his relatively foul mood and the fact that his eyes are practically shut before he hits send, Anton finds himself smiling once more.
A week later, Anton and his pack arrive at the vampire residence with a couple of six packs and wait awkwardly behind Stu as he takes the lead. Vladismir- Vladislav? Vlad, Anton decides in his mind, is the one to answer the door, and his face breaks out into an uncharacteristic (from what he’s seen) grin.
“Stu,” he greets enthusiastically, clapping Stu so hard on the shoulder the smaller man nearly buckles. “Good to see you.”
“Hey, Vlad.”
“Hello, Stu’s pack,” Vlad drawls, stepping aside. Anton bristles but braves a tight-lipped smile.
“Oh, it’s Anton’s pack,” Stu says timidly. “He’s the alpha male.”
“Yes, I know,” Vlad says pleasantly, eyes tracking Anton as he crosses the threshold. Deacon is in the front room, too, and he gives Stu a firm hug before going around to greet the other wolves. Anton, for all that he is the alpha, feels strangely out of place, like he’s being circled by his hereditary enemies like sharks around a diving cage. Nick comes from down the hall, the real life of the party, and most of the pack already loves him so things get considerably louder when he hugs Stu as well. Lots of bro hugs and tousles.
“Are our guests here?” Viago’s lilting accent sounds from the top of the stairs, and Anton sees him with his hands on the banister of the landing. Something eases in Anton’s chest as he walks down the stairs, and he raises his hand in greeting. Viago comes to a stop right in front of him and mirrors the wave unnecessarily. Anton could laugh. Weird little dude. “Hello, Anton. Hello, Anton’s wolfpack,” he says, turning a little to face them all. He’s met with cheers of ‘hello, Viago’ and other pleasantries as they all talk over each other. Stu shakes Viago’s hand before following the other vampires into the den. Anton feels proud of his pack for the way it’s going so far.
“Would you like me to put those in the refrigerator for you?” Viago asks kindly. Anton blinks, looking down at the case of beer in his hand.
“Oh, er, yeah. If you want to just show me where it is?” He smiles at Viago, still a little uncomfortable but happy to be in the presence of what he considers the most tolerable of the bunch. “Hello, by the way.” Viago’s eyes seem to sparkle as he squints happily before turning to lead Anton to the kitchen. It’s neat, and the dishes are done, something Stu had informed him was a rare occurrence.
“We have ordered you pizzas,” Viago says as Anton puts the beer away. He’s charmed to see there’s some already there, meaning the vampires had gotten some just for the occasion. “We cannot partake, of course, but Nick suggested it would be a good idea. I am very excited about this gathering,” he adds, almost out of place. Anton let’s put a surprised chuckle.
“Yeah, me too. I think it’ll be good for the boys to get some perspective from people outside the pack. Sometimes we can get kind of insular.” Viago nods solemnly in agreement.
“We can as well. Stu has been great about catching us up, so to speak. When you can’t go outside when society is, you lose track of the way things change.” He looks a little sad as they walk back to the group, but brightens when he sees that half of them, Deacon included, have already broken into a seemingly brand-new box of Catan, a favorite of the wolves. Anton worries about Deacon and Clifton playing that game together and what rivalries it might entail, but it’s a worry for later. He smiles when he sees an ice bin nearby the game table now nearly empty, each wolf having cracked a can open. They’re already squabbling over which color each person is going to be, and Vlad has lured some of the others into a card game when Viago turns back to Anton, wringing his hands.
“Would you like a tour?” He asks, glancing at the crowded room. “I do not want to butt in on any of their games, so I was going to wait until the next round.” Anton blinks again.
“Yeah, sure,” he says, a little apprehensive about being alone with a vampire so soon, but he has a gut feeling Viago isn’t going to hurt him. Viago’s nose twitches.
“I won’t bite,” he says, eyes shining with mirth, his fangs glinting their contradiction as they tease over his bottom lip in that strange little smile.
“You can’t just smell my emotions, man, that’s cheating,” Anton accuses, but he’s fighting a grin. He grabs a beer from the cooler before following Viago out of the room.
“Like you are one to talk.”
Viago shows him around the downstairs area without incident; there’s not much to see, apart from the eclectic decorations in every single room and covering every inch of the walls. It’s charming in a haunted, Victorian way. It gets a little dicey in the basement, just the reality of being well and truly alone with something that’s supposed to hate his guts, and basements are generally creepy, but it’s surprisingly clean and well taken care of. On a table there’s a small shrine with several pictures of a vampire that genuinely, genuinely looks like Nosferatu surrounded by some candles. In these pictures, the other vampires of the house are in various states of dated clothing- 70s, 80s, 50s, until in the newer ones they appear to have given up trying to blend in and just chosen to wear what they want. Anton supposes that now is a more accepting time than ever for that sort of thing.
“Ah, that is Petyr. He is the one who turned Deacon. Nick, too. We were going to eat him, you know, but Petyr got to him first. A blessing in disguise,” Viago says wistfully, picking up a picture and running a hand over it fondly. “Gone now. That’s the way.” He sets the picture back down before turning to smile at Anton with sad eyes.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Anton says, and means it.
“I thank you. But it’s in the past!” Viago declares, wringing his hands in front of him again and gaining his cheerful demeanor once more. “Would you like to see the upstairs?”
In the hallway off the upper landing there’s a large mirror, and Anton startles for a moment when they pass by and he realizes he can’t see Viago’s reflection. He pauses, staring, and Viago backtracks to stand next to him with an amused air.
“I guess it’s one of those things that should’ve been obvious,” Anton says by way of explanation, taking a sip of his beer and looking at where Viago should be in the image. He wonders if he’s making eye contact. “But I didn’t think about it until now. Why do you have mirrors anyway?” Viago shrugs next to him, their shoulders brushing and reminding Anton that he was still present despite the illusion.
“Humans- or other creatures,” he adds for Anton’s benefit, “-who own mirrors don’t look at themselves all the time. Well, most of them,” he says conspiratorially, leaning in, his fangs poking out in a smile again. Anton snorts a little. “I think, perhaps, it is one of those things that helps a house feel like a home, even if it is useless for us. Why do we have paintings and stuffed animal busts on the walls?” He reasons. “Also, it is funny to make things look as though they are floating.”
As if by example, he takes Anton’s beer can from his unsuspecting hands and waves it around next to his head and then above it, making strange ghostly noises and saying ‘oooh, I am a floating beer,’ as he goes. Anton snickers as he takes it back. He’s decided Viago is utterly charming when he’s apart from his friends.
“This is Deacon’s closet,” Viago says when they reach the corner where the hallway turns. “He likes to sleep like a bat. Personally, I could not, but to each their own.” His smile remains as he continues leading Anton down their path. “This is Vlad’s room. Sometimes it is a sex room. I don’t understand how he does it. Eight hundred years of vampire magic, one might surmise.”
“What on Earth is a sex room?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t know what else to call it,” Viago says, wringing his hands again and looking over his shoulder like the hulking man could be standing over them. “I’ve seen him on the wall with, like, six women before.”
“On the wall?” Anton asks incredulously.
“You should really watch the documentary,” Viago says, already continuing past.
He really should, to be fair. He and the pack put enough work into it themselves. Anton gazes at the door to Vlad’s room for a bit longer before shaking his head and making to follow him, mouthing ‘they show the sex room in the film?’ to himself.
“And this is my room,” Viago says cheerfully, opening the door. It’s not much, just a dark room with blackout curtains and a coffin with a bedside table and an alarm clock. “I don’t spend much time in here. Only to slumber. So, I do not decorate.” Anton frowns.
“How can you tell if it’s daylight?”
“I check through the curtain,” Viago says earnestly, drawing said fabric back to reveal a view of the dark street and the houses twinkling with light on the hill outside.
“Seems dangerous,” Anton says, ignoring the amount of worry gnawing at his gut at the thought. But he is worried. Maybe it’s the alpha, the pack leader in him wanting to protect. But Viago’s been doing this for… God, he doesn’t even know how old Viago is. How old did he say Vlad was? Eight hundred years? He looks at the beer in his hand and wills it to be stronger.
“It is,” Viago hums agreeably, looking out at the view. “Needs must.” Anton frowns, coming to stand beside him.
“How about I just text you when it’s dark instead?” He says before thinking about the offer. He feels Viago look at him, but he keeps his gaze affixed on the hill. “At least until we figure out a more permanent solution.” He braves a glance at Viago, then, to see the other man with that dopey fanged smile across his face.
“You would do that?” Anton nods. “Wow. I’ve never had anyone offer to do that before. Not even Deacon’s familiar. I didn’t think it would be a werewolf.”
“Yeah, well. New beginnings and friendship and all that, right?” Anton smiles at him.
There’s a crash downstairs, then, as if on cue, and Anton winces, closing his eyes. Shouts erupt and he’s fairly certain he can hear hissing, too, so he and Viago rush down to the scene. Deacon is flying, the Catan table overturned, and pieces scattered everywhere as he hovers over Clifton, who’s being held back by both Nathans Gs as he begins to wolf out.
“Oi!” Anton shouts, dropping his empty beer can and running to stand in front of Clifton. Viago follows, muttering a quiet shit and leaps up to take ahold of Deacon’s ankle, yanking him down with a strength he didn’t look like he possessed. Anton clicks his fingers in Clifton’s face and tries to draw the menacing yellow eyes to focus on him. “Clifton,” he growls loudly, the alpha taking over for a moment, and Clifton actually whimpers like a dog as he finally looks down and away from both Deacon and Anton. He holds an arm out to catch Clifton in case he tries anything as he turns to assess the situation. Viago glances back at the same time from where he’s talking to Deacon sternly under his breath, meeting his eyes. Anton can feel the glow in them fade away and he nods once, turning back to Clifton. “You gonna tell me what happened?” He asks, softer now that the threat of a full on battle isn’t as imminent.
“He cheated,” Clifton says petulantly.
“Like hell I did, dog,” Deacon spits, and despite the situation Anton is amused when he hears Viago smack him ‘round the ear. “If anyone cheated it is you.”
“Neither of them, cheated, actually,” Dion says matter-of-factly. “Clifton was just trying to build the longest wall and Deacon was trying to stop him.”
“So, the rules of the game,” Anton deadpans. He feels safe enough to take the hand of Clifton’s arm and backs away. “Well, I think you should just both apologize and move on,” he decides, putting his hands on his hips and looking between the two. “Viago?”
“I agree. Deacon, apologize to Clifton.” There’s an authoritative, almost parental note to the tone, and Deacon glares at Clifton but looks abashed.
“Sorry,” Deacon mutters. “Dickhead,” he says more quietly, but he must know they can all hear him.
“Clifton?” Anton says expectantly, letting it go.
“Sorry,” Clifton grinds out. “Cunt.”
“Clifton,” Anton barks. “What are we?”
“He swore first!” Clifton whines. Deacon hisses.
“Yes, but I’m not in charge of the vampires or the way they speak. You can have the moral high ground here, mate.”
“Fine,” Clifton gripes. “I’m sorry.” Anton nods, satisfied.
“Good. Now both of you clean this up.” He looks to Viago for permission to boss Deacon around.
“Yes, as he says,” Viago says brightly, patting Deacon on the shoulder encouragingly. “A good bonding moment for you.”
“Party killers. Things were just starting to get interesting,” Vlad groans from the other side of the room.
“So sad,” Viago chirps.
Anton grabs another beer and moves to stand by Viago as they observe the tidying process. Despite his complaints, Vlad wanders over to help nonchalantly, and soon all the vampires and werewolves are making an effort under their supervision. Anton smiles into his bottle and takes a sip.
“You know,” Viago murmurs, leaning into his space once more. “I think this will work out. After some time.” Anton looks at him out of the corner of his eye, still smiling.
“I think so, too.”