The Sharpest Lives

by you_wear_fine_things_well

Summary:

A man named Zemo offers to help James hunt down the Hydra coven.

Little does James know that Zemo is not a man but a baron, an ancient legendary vampire. And he's about to change James' life.

Notes:

• For insectiile.

Title is a reference to the song by My Chemical Romance!

Heads up that things are about to get pretty toxic.

Chapter 1

Summary:

Zemo reveals his true self to vampire hunter Bucky.

“Don’t worry,” Zemo reassured him from somewhere in this great hall. “I've decided not to kill you.”

James snarled at the huge castle chamber, his heart beating like a drum as his eyes darted around, trying to locate Zemo in the flickering light of the fireplace. “Imagine my relief.”

The grip on his weapon tightened as another wave of anger swept through him.

He’d been fooled. Fucking betrayed.

The accented voice resurfaced right behind him, a mere whisper. “We could work together, you know.”

James spun around and flung one of his silver knives. It hurled through the air and struck a painting on the wall.

“James! That was an authentic Renoir!”

James pulled out another knife. “I don't work with scum like you. How could I?” James scrutinized the gothic vaults along the ceiling, trying to figure out where Zemo was hiding. The arch shadows seemed to come alive, moving with the dancing light of the hearth. “My job is to kill creatures like you. You fucking know that.”

“Yes, but I'm not like the others, am I?” James couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from now. “I didn't lie to you. I want to kill the Hydra coven, with your help.”

James bit the inside of his lip. “I don't work with killers.”

“Oh,” came a voice in his left ear, “because you're such a saint.”

James hurried to stab the figure next to him, but Zemo was gone as quick as the wind. “I don’t kill people. I only kill vampires.”

One Month Earlier

The man gave James a big smile as he sat down with the ordered drinks. The bar was somewhat full, but there was space for them at a table in one of the pub’s corners, the music quieter here.

“So,” James took his drink, sipping a bit of it. “You called my services. You said you had intel.”

The man who had introduced himself as Zemo nodded as he slowly had a bit of his own drink. “There is a circle of…” he looked around before continuing in a lower voice, “vampires, spreading out around the west side of the city. I hear you have experience with them. I believe they are called the Hydra coven.”

James took a moment before slowly nodding, keeping the man’s gaze. “Killed a few,” he replied. James didn’t go into too much detail with clients, fellow hunters and benefactors, erring on the side of cautious. But his guts felt good about this guy. Over the years, James had gotten better at following his instinct, though he had always had a nick for it. That’s why he’d become such a good vampire hunter.

The bottom line was that Zemo wasn’t a vampire, which was the fundamental thing to be sure of. James verified it as he did with all the people who came to him for a job, or to help him out. It had only taken Zemo drinking his glass to put that question aside.

But even from the start, Zemo hadn’t struck him as the kind. Vampires were always pale and cold. Zemo’s hand was warm when their fingers had brushed, when the man had handed him his drink. Nor could they digest normal drinks or food – it made them sick. Or go out in the sunlight – it made them burn. James knew the rules. And he knew how to kill them too: by stabbing them with a silver knife or wooden stake. The garlic stuff was nonsense. But people loved a good vampire conspiracy theory every now and then. James had heard more absurd stories than he could count.

And though everyone knew about vampires, few actively hunted them. It was a dangerous and lonely life. James was the only one covering New York city as far as he was aware. Which also unfortunately meant that most vampires knew him. As his reputation grew, the covens got sneaker, getting better at hiding from him. As a last resort, James had put out feelers for people to help him find their little hiding spots.

“So what’s your intel?”

“I have resources, informants who send me their locations, but I need someone to do the hunting.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“I have personal history with the coven.”

“Did they turn someone you knew?”

“Killed.”

“Ah.” James didn’t know which was worse. Though he of course knew that there were many ways vampires could fuck up your life. He himself had a past with Hydra. “Sorry.”

Zemo gave him a little smile. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

 

***

 

And so their partnership began. Zemo sent him his intel on Hydra locations, James used them, expanding the map hung up on his living room wall, triangulating the sources and finding vampire packs. The job felt like it was neverending, and it pretty much was. The Hydra group loved to create new fledglings as a response to his hunting, so there were always more.

But James didn’t have a choice. No one else was going to do the fucking job. Not that they could. James was a super soldier. Ironically, he could keep up with Hydra. The same coven who had experimented on him and turned him into this super human.

But that was in the past.

Plus, with Zemo, things did feel like they were going faster. And it felt nice, to not go at it on his own, to know that someone else was out there who enjoyed killing those vampires as much as he did.

One evening, on a whim, James invited Zemo out to celebrate another successful mission that he had facilitated. They both exchanged over drinks – maybe too many drinks – and then suddenly they were onto each other, stumbling up the stairs to Bucky’s apartment, lost in kisses and touches, losing all sense of time.

 

***

 

James watched with half-lidded eyes as Zemo dressed himself in the warm morning sun. “Stay?” he mumbled.

“I have to go to work, James.”

“What do you even do?” James mumbled into the pillowcase. He realized they hadn't even talked about stuff like that. James had been too fucking distracted by those lips and those eyes.

Zemo chuckled.

“Really, Zemo,” James groaned, eyes fluttering. “Come back to bed...”

Zemo shushed him and spoke in a low voice. “Go back to sleep.”

The words tingled in the back of his mind. James felt odd. Suddenly he was drifting off again. Like many nights, he dreamed of Hydra. Of their mind control. Of them using him.

He awoke suddenly to a quiet apartment room.

 

***

 

It was only after weeks of being on and off that James finally decided to hunt down Zemo’s address. He’d felt like something was amiss, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Things felt good. Almost too good.

So, after another wonderfully normal evening, when Zemo bid him good night, saying he'd stay over some other time, he’d followed Zemo to his ride, and then pursued them on his motorcycle.

Which led him down that forest road.

Which led him here, to this place that was more castle than mansion.

He’d known the fucking truth from the moment that big building had come into view. He came to a halt as he gawked up at it. It was like out of a damn Dracula movie. It couldn’t be any more fucking obvious.

He arranged his knives on his belt, praying that it wasn't true.

How could it be true?

He could scarcely believe it, even when he had entered through the big open doors and stepped into the luxurious hall, seeing the man he thought he knew drink a red beverage from a champagne glass in front of a big fireplace.

How?

The realization of what he was truly dealing with only slowly dawned on him, as Zemo grinned at him from the chair with a knowing smile.

Zemo was a baron. A name for a kind of vampire James had only heard rumors about. An ancient creature, of which there were legends. James had never believed them, since he’d never encountered the kind. Until now. These powerful vampires who could eat and drink, even walk in sunlight.

At that moment, James knew he was in deep shit. But his anger at letting himself get played for weeks outweighed all the alarm bells in his mind.

Zemo had fucking lied to him about his identity and had slept with him. Repeatedly. Monster.

He flung the first knife at the chair.

The baron had the time to smirk before disappearing, glass shattering on the floor, knife stuck in the mantelpiece.

“Don’t worry. I've decided not to kill you.”

 

***

 

“You lied to me.” James snarled at the hall.

“I only ever told you the truth.” Zemo appeared a few steps ahead of him and gave James a cunning smile. “I said I wanted to help you. I meant it.”

“Left out a little detail about you killing people for blood at night though, didn’t you? You deceived me.” James could barely breathe, his arms shaking with rage, barely able to hold the knife. “What, did you suddenly decide you wanted to play with your food?”

Zemo tilted his head. “As I said, I’m not going to kill you.”

“What do you want from me?”

“You're not like the other hunters, James. You and I, we share a common enemy. And we share a code. I was hoping I could understand you. See if I could trust you.”

“Trust me?!” James flipped the knife in his hand, getting ready. “I don't care if you trust me because I’ll never trust you.”

“After all our lovely nights together? Oh James, you wound me!”

“How much of that was even real? Did you fucking hypnotize me?”

Zemo appeared so suddenly in front of him that James almost stumbled back. He bit the inside of his lip again. James was bluffing, after all, trying to rile up the baron for whatever godforsaken reason. He knew what vampire hypnosis felt like. It felt like being paralyzed. Kinda like being on drugs.

He should know. He’d spent years hypnotized by Hydra. He’d been their own personalized human super soldier puppet. And he’d needed years of training afterwards to be able to resist the vampire compulsion.

So James knew Zemo hadn’t actually resorted to it. Not yet, anyway. Being with Zemo had not felt like hypnosis. It had felt… well truthfully James hadn’t felt anything so warm and real in a while.

“Why go through all the trouble of coming up with all these reasons for you to hate me?” Slowly, Zemo lifted his hand and ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair. He flinched at the familiar sensation. How could this soft, gentle Zemo, also be a fucking vampire? “Why go through the trouble, when you could just give in to those desires I can smell, coursing through you? All those dirty, dirty thoughts...”

James closed his eyes. Fuck. If he was a vampire, of course... “Did you ever read my mind, while we were together?”

“I hear loud thoughts, James. I cannot control what I hear.”

James glared at him. “Bullshit.” He tried not to blush at all those thoughts he'd had in bed. All those loud, loud thoughts.

“Let us strike a deal," Zemo said, snapping James back to the present. "Let us work together. I will help you hunt down Hydra vampires and at the same time, I will guarantee you that I will not kill any more humans.”

James frowned at him. “That's impossible. You would die. Even the strongest and oldest vampires, even barons, can’t survive without human blood.” That was at least James knew for sure.

Zemo disappeared.

James didn’t even have time to turn around.

The baron was so fast.

He dashed past James and he only felt the cut burn after the vampire had slit his pointy fingernail across his bicep, ripping right through the fabric.

James quickly covered his arm. Shit.

Rule number one when dealing with vampires: never bleed in their presence.

James was dead man walking now.

Zemo appeared a few steps in front of him, showing off his pointer finger, a drop of blood on the nail.

James froze as he watched him bring it to his mouth. He groaned as he closed lips around it. His eyes went dark as he pulled his finger away. “You are a super soldier, James. We can help each other.”

James needed a second to connect the dots. Fuck. That was what Zemo wanted?

Zemo disappeared and appeared right in front of him, tilting his head, looking him up and down. James took a quick instinctive step back. He knew how crazed vampires became once they had a taste. “How long does it take for you to recover from blood loss?”

It sounded like a rhetorical question. James reckoned Zemo had done his research on the Hydra experiments, which was why he was still here and still alive. Which was probably why Zemo had sought him out in the first place.

“You’re quite right,” Zemo smirked up at him. “I did my research. I propose to use you as a means to an end. I would take your blood, and with that as fuel, I would hunt vampires. I would not need to kill any humans, and you would recover. It’s a win-win situation.”

James’ breathing stuttered. “Stop reading my thoughts. I’m not going to help you.”

“Well, I suppose I could also make you.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

“Kneel.”

James gasped as his body was almost compelled to kneel. But he fought it.

“No…” James shook his head with difficulty. “Vampire hypnosis doesn’t work on me anymore.” The grip on his knife tightened. “Those days are over. I’m free.”

“Are you? Kneel.”

James’ legs buckled as he breathed heavily. “You did your research. You know what they did to me.” Why are you doing it?

“Because I need you to understand that I could kill you, but that I won’t. I need you to see that I have the power over you, but that I keep to my word.”

James blinked at him.

“Kneel.” It happened before James could do anything. His breathing came out stuttering as he was pulled down by an invisible force.

No. No no no. Fuck no.

He almost cried as his knees hit the stone floor. He’d spent fucking years fighting the compulsion and now here he was. And worse still, there was a part of him that wanted this. That relished in it. All the more because it was Zemo and the things they'd done in bed all resurfaced at once.

A finger traced through his long hair as Zemo circled him like a cat. “Killing you would be so very easy, James. Stop breathing.”

James glared up at Zemo as he came around to face him again, smiling. He finally couldn't hold back his struggle, unable to breathe, choking with nothing around his neck but air. Black dots appeared at the corner of his vision as a tear dropped from his eye.

After all these years.

Then Zemo suddenly tilted his head and everything released him.

James fell forward on all fours, grasping at his free throat as he finally managed to gasp deep breaths.

Zemo crouched down in front of him. James hid his face but a hand came to tilt up his chin, forcing his gaze up.

“Tell me you haven't fantasized about it once.” Zemo's eyes were dark, twinkling in the firelight. “Of being at the mercy of a real vampire. Of feeling the bite yourself. Of letting go.”

James closed his eyes for a moment to gather himself, flooded by more memories of Zemo in bed, how he'd asked him to take control, to cuff him to the bed, to order him around. Zemo knew that he wanted it. But he wasn't supposed to want...

“Yes, but after all these years of tireless fighting, you do want this.”

James took another deep breath as he snarled at him. “Stop reading my thoughts.”

“Then stop thinking so loudly.” Zemo smirked at him, leaning closer until James could feel his breath on him. Funny, how warm he was, when James had only known cold vampires. His eyes darted to those lips he’d kissed so many times. Those soft- How could he even dare feel like this about a fucking vampire? “So? What will it be?”

James pushed his impulsive thoughts aside. “I don’t trust you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t. But you’re going to say yes to this arrangement either way. And I don’t even have to hypnotize you to get you to agree.”

“Fuck you.”

Zemo’s smile widened, showing his fangs. James’ breath caught in his chest.

Zemo leaned in and kissed him softly. James didn't even fight it. Worse still, his mouth opened for him like it was his second nature. It was his body, reacting to a familiar kiss. James shuddered as he felt the sharp fangs run across his tongue, his lips.

Zemo pulled back slowly, his eyes dark. “I will let you go home now.”

James couldn't believe the vampire was letting him go. After all that. After breaking skin.

“Go home and think about it.”

James gulped. Truth was, he didn’t need to.

They both knew he’d already made up his mind.

Notes:

There will be more blood in the next one, don't worry.

Chapter 2

Summary:

James chooses to come to Zemo.

Notes:

Did I overwrite in this chapter? No! Definitely not!

It's late so please excuse any typos!

James couldn’t sleep that night, and it wasn’t the cut on his arm that was keeping him up.

He wouldn’t have even needed to put a bandage around it. It was so shallow it had barely bled and was now almost healed.

No, what was keeping him up were the memories. Of the castle, of the revelation. Of their previous nights together. All of it, blending together until James didn’t know what was real or what he had made up.

He opened his eyes and gazed out of the large window. The full moon was bright, casting an eerie light over this part of the city and, further off, somewhere far away, that forest where that mansion stood. He thought he could feel the castle all the way from here.

Where Zemo was waiting for him.

The curtains danced as the breeze washed into the room. The wind seemed to speak.

Come to me, it said, in that silky voice. Come to me.

James covered his ears, but it was useless. The voice was coming from his own mind, his own paranoia.

It was like a siren’s song, singing just for him.

And god how beautiful it sounded…

Moments with Zemo flashed through his mind, moments in this very bed. All the things he’d said to him. Done to him…

And this whole time, Zemo hadn’t been a man, but a vampire.

One of the most powerful vampires in existence.

And he wanted James...

James’ hand moved from his ear down his body all on its own, trying to find some form of release after all the tension, after being forced to deny the man he’d grown so accustomed of having in his bed.

He was a vampire and James was a vampire hunter, but god he couldn’t help himself. James still wanted him.

He was a fucking lost cause.

A lost cause for imagining Zemo holding him down with that vampire strength. Even stronger than his own super soldier strength.

He fantasized of Zemo sinking those teeth in…

James groaned, pressing the back of his head into the pillow as his hand added pressure just where he needed it so damn much.

It was like he could hear Zemo's low chuckle, teasing him for giving in so easily, so readily. For complying so quickly, when he’d spent his life fighting this.

But he chased his pleasure anyway, so many memories resurfacing so quickly.

When he’d finally come apart, alone in the dark, the guilt quickly followed the rush.

During his years of hunting, James had of course had moments where he’d wondered about what it would feel like, being bitten. He’d seen the dry corpses, the turned fledglings. But what stuck with him the most were the victims that were still half alive, that he’d taken to the hospital. They seemed so at peace. So happy. So blissful.

So many of those that he had saved he had later found again, dead or turned. They had sought the vampires out, after being bitten. Because it was like an addiction. Because it had felt that good.

Which was why vampire chaser rule number two was don’t ever get bitten.

Steve had died this way. A vampiress had bitten him.

He’d recovered with just a tiny bit of blood loss. He swore he was fine.

And then, one day, James found him with every last drop gone, a smile on his face.

He’d craved the bite so much he’d been willing to die for it.

James had never understood him.

Until now.

 

***

 

The castle seemed to shimmer in the golden rays of the sunset through the trees.

James couldn’t believe he was here. And there were no bite marks on his skin as some sort of proof that he’d been led here by some addiction to vampire venom.

It was all him. He’d made the decision to come back. He’d decided to return to Zemo.

He didn't trust the baron, but still, he came.

The gates to the grounds were open, and so were the front doors to the foyer. The place was silent but for what sounded like a gramophone, echoing 40s music through the vacant lobby. James allowed himself to get a good look at the place this time. Despite the ancient look of the castle interior, there were no cobwebs or dust in sight. It almost looked homely.

James wandered around, following the music until he came upon a great dining hall with a long table, endless plates of delicacies laid out between candelabras and dark red and black table decorations.

“You came.”

James jumped despite himself, spinning around to come face to face with Zemo. His throat tightened. He’d brought a few knives just in case, but he found that he wasn’t going for them.

“Please, let me take your coat.”

Zemo rushed behind him, helping him out of his jacket. James had, for some reason, decided to dress formal, with a black jacket and white shirt. He couldn’t help but think that a part of him was dressing for a funeral. And not just any, but his own. He tried not to dwell on that.

Zemo lingered near him, swaying closer. James thought he felt the baron smell him.

Before he could say anything, the vampire dashed to the wardrobe.

James felt shivers run up his spine, standing alone in just his shirt, faced with such a magnificent dining room.

This wasn't right. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Wasn’t supposed to indulge in his fantasies with the type of creature he’d sworn he’d only hunt down and kill.

But if Zemo really meant it and would help him with Hydra… well even if he didn’t mean it, was it so bad to die? James had spent all his life fighting. He was tired. And for better or for worse, he did want to know what it felt like. And he missed his Zemo —

He snapped back to himself when Zemo appeared in front of him, pulling out a chair.

Zemo had dressed formally as well, with a tailcoat and dark red ruffled shirt – probably to better hide the blood.

“Please.” Zemo motioned.

James nodded and slowly sat down.

Zemo was gone and back again in a blink of an eye, pouring him some red wine. “Vintage from 1889. Almost as old as I am.”

“And how old would that be?”

“I believe I was born in 1855.”

He disappeared and reappeared across the long side of the table, so that they were facing each other, rather than sitting the whole room apart. Zemo lifted his glass in toast with a smile. James joined in automatically. The clang of the glasses rang out as soft music continued playing in the background. James didn’t know how he felt about the way Zemo was grinning at him. The way his eyes seemed to sparkle. The same way he’d looked at him before the revelation, at those bars, in his apartment, next to him on his bed... Like he couldn’t wait to devour him, like he was falling in love with him.

James gulped as he watched the baron sip his drink. “Doesn't it make you sick?”

Zemo frowned but then smiled, tilting his glass this way and that. “The human drinks? No, not sick. However, they have regrettably lost their taste. But please,” he beckoned him, “do try it. If you describe it to me, then I could taste it vicariously through you.”

The vampire licked his lips and James found himself spellbound until he came back to his senses. He inhaled the wine’s aroma before taking a slow sip. “It tastes… smoky. There’s a slight fruity taste to it too, mixed with a spicy undertone…” James hesitated. “I don’t really… I don’t know that much about wine.”

The baron was gazing at him with even darker irises than before. “No, that was good. Thank you, James. Are you hungry?”

James’ throat went a bit dry, despite the wine. “Yes.”

Zemo was gone and then back suddenly to place a plate in front of him: steak, baked potatoes, and kale with sauce. Zemo reappeared in his chair with a whoosh.

James looked down at the steaming meal, the smell of the dark mushroom sauce making his mouth water. He hesitated before he eyed the baron. “Who cooked this?”

“I did,” Zemo said with a cocky smile.

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I may not be able to taste, but I can cook. I had my familiar Oeznik try the food, to make sure it wasn’t missing anything. Please.”

James dug in slowly, surprised at how juicy the meat was, how seasoned the vegetables were. He tried to describe the sensations to Zemo, and it felt like the vampire was eating up every single one of his words, even if he looked hungrier by the second.

James wondered whether this was going to be his last meal. It almost felt like Zemo was fattening him up for slaughter. He wondered whether this was the baron’s thing, luring humans in by fucking with their minds first, making them fall in love with him and then killing them.

A warm hand suddenly covered his own, just as he was cutting through last pieces of the steak. He paused to gaze at Zemo.

“You are anxious.”

James cleared his throat, trying to play it off. “I’ve never done this before.”

No one has ever done this before, more like.

“I’ll be gentle,” Zemo said in a soft voice.

James didn’t know why, but the words made his heart flutter. Zemo had said those same words to him before, in a different context.

James fought the blush that threatened to show on his cheeks. He quickly ate the rest of the steak. Then he downed the rest of the wine.

The wine was quickly refilled and the plate replaced with a ramekin of crème brûlée.

“Thank you,” James mumbled. He didn’t have the time or patience to cook for himself so he mostly lived off takeaway. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a meal this luxurious. He dove in, enjoying every bite, trying not to think too much about why he was really here. Trying to ignore the way Zemo was staring at him, like he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth in.

James downed the rest of the wine after he finished his dessert. He hesitated as he placed the glass back down. He’d had quite a lot of the bottle. “Will it make you tipsy? When you... drink from me?”

“It might,” Zemo said. His eyes reflected the candlelight. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

James looked down at the dish. It was empty now. So was his glass.

“I do,” he found himself saying.

Zemo disappeared. James heard a rush of wind behind him. James turned around, feeling his head sway just the slightest bit from the wine. Zemo was standing at another doorway.

“Come,” Zemo said, making a come hither motion with his fingers.

James stood carefully and followed him. The vampire appeared and reappeared further down the halls, up the stairs, leading him to his own demise. But James found he couldn’t do anything but trail after him. He knew he wasn’t being compelled or hypnotized. No. Zemo had found something so much worse to pull him in: his own desires for the baron.

And that, mixed with his slight tipsiness...

Zemo beckoned him into a large chamber. A fire was crackling in the hearth, a large bed dominating the room. The antique wood floor was covered in fur carpets.

As soon as he stepped inside, the door shut behind him. Before he knew what was happening, Zemo’s lips were on his. James jerked back in surprise but Zemo followed him as his back hit the door. Just as quickly, James leaned into the kiss, closing his eyes as he was plunged back to all their shared nights. Until he felt sharp teeth scrape along his tongue and he shuddered. This wasn’t right. Zemo wasn’t human…

But then his tongue was swirling around in his mouth, claiming him, and James couldn’t have moved away if he had wanted to. Warm hands wrapped around his neck like a snake coiling around its prey. Zemo could kill him with one fatal move, James knew that. And yet still, he couldn’t move away.

The fact alone that Zemo hadn’t killed him yet and was instead moaning into his mouth, kissing him as deeply as he had before he’d revealed his true identity made James giddy with want.

He sighed as Zemo pulled away, glossy fangs shimmering in the fire light.

James eyed the bed. “You don’t sleep there, do you?”

“No,” Zemo whispered, cupping his cheek and turning his face to force their eyes to meet. “I can only sleep in a coffin, like other vampires.”

“Then why —”

“I got the bed for you, James.”

James’ breathing faltered at that.

Zemo had done all of that for him… maybe he really did mean it. Maybe he really wasn’t going to kill him.

“How much will you take?” James found himself asking in a moment of lucidity, between the wooziness of the wine and his own damn infatuation with the baron.

“Just a taste. Just enough to hunt tonight.”

James gulped. “Okay.”

Zemo leaned closer. James thought he was going for his neck to bite him, but instead, he coaxed his cheeks closer and kissed him again, slowly. His lips moved so delicately, his tongue at a steady rhythm that was so soothing, turning up James’ body heat at every dive.

It was so sweet that it was hard to remember where he was, or what he had agreed to by coming back.

Instead James was transported to that fateful night, when he had first tentatively kissed the man who’d been helping him hunt Hydra. James remembered being so nervous. What if this man wasn’t looking for something more than friendship (even if he’d joked around about being single)? What if Zemo wasn’t into guys (even if he’d mentioned that he was)? What if Zemo wasn’t interested in him (even if he’d complimented his looks and smiled at him so sweetly and invited him to dance)?

And now here they were, with James just as nervous. Only now, it was because he knew he’d chosen something there was no coming back from.

Relax, Zemo’s voice echoed in his head.

James jerked in surprise. He’d never experienced such intense vampire telekinesis before.

I’ll take care of you.

Somehow, he believed him. Zemo captured his lips again, and this time James rolled his tongue into that sweet mouth, tentatively tracing the sharp fangs. James didn’t know how many humans had kissed a vampire and lived to tell the tale.

Maybe it was better if James didn’t know.

Warm fingers slithered up into his hair, tilting his head down, beckoning him to dive deeper. So that’s what James did, body relaxing into the kiss, hands holding Zemo the same way he had held him before all of this.

James inhaled deeply when Zemo pulled away. But he didn’t stray far, tracing his lips along his cheek. James could feel his warm breath on his stubble. He felt so fucking good.

Zemo pressed kisses along his jaw and down to his neck. James tilted his head to give him more room, eyes closed to take in every kiss. Zemo nipped at him, ran his tongue along the warm skin. James swore he could stay like this forever and still not get enough. He hummed when he felt the scratch of teeth against him, until they caught in his skin. Before James could pull away, Zemo pushed in and the fangs broke his skin like two sharp needles.

James gasped at the sharp pain. But what he felt next was even worse. It was a dreadful sensation: the gentle suction of his blood, being pulled from his warm body.

From his beating heart.

At every heartbeat.

It wasn’t right —

Another wave of unease passed through him as more blood was drawn from him.

His breathing stuttered and his legs shook in fear.

Deep breaths, Zemo told him.

James tried to inhale slowly but it was hard. The odd sensation was overwhelming and the steadily growing anxiety wasn’t helping. He gripped Zemo’s shoulders and held onto them as the baron pressed his teeth in further, making his breathing hitch.

Fuck. What was he doing? He was gambling his life away for what – so he could finally see what it was like, to be fed on by a vampire? How stupid was he?

Zemo pressed in even more, deeper than James thought possible. It was like the razor-sharp fangs were growing longer, wedging into his bloodstream, their ducts widening to ease the flow. To drain his blood all the faster.

James hissed at the pain, tears welling in his eyes as he squeezed them shut.

It was then that something spread from that wound into his neck. The vampire was sucking his blood, but something else was being injected back into his artery.

With a little sigh, he realized that this was the sedative that vampire secreted when they fed, to make their prey more docile.

And fuck was it working wonders.

James opened his eyes again as he took a deep breath, feeling it course through him, from his neck to his heart and then, fuck…

It was everywhere. Lighting him up from the inside, rushing all the way from his chest down to his toes, to his fingertips that were still holding onto Zemo. His body was coming alive, glowing with life as a comforting warmth passed though him, something he could let himself float in forever. It was a reassuring sensation, like a soothing humming. But it was euphoric too, like a spark. He had so much to live for, so many things he could do. Life was incredible. He swayed closer to Zemo’s warmth, needing to feel his body, desperate for more.

He gasped when Zemo growled into his neck and gave him just that: more. James breathing became shallow as tingles spread through his body, longing settling in the depths of his chest. He wanted Zemo. More than ever before. His arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer still. He needed Zemo. He sloppily sought out friction to let out all this heat that was building up inside of him.

The movement caused just a little change of angle in Zemo’s bite and suddenly the pleasure was replaced with a wave of pain. James huffed as he tried to get that other feeling back. Grisly jitters rushed through him before another beautiful flow of that good stuff mixed into it.

James whined at the confusing sensations. All those rapid changes made him dizzy. He tried to move his head away, but a hand wrapped around the other side of his throat to hold him steady and keep his neck pressed nicely to that open mouth. James could feel the warmth of Zemo’s breath on his skin. Or was it blood?

You’re doing so well , Zemo told him.

The praise sent shivers up his spine, another kick of that good feeling spreading through his blood like a drug, turning him on. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after. If he just stayed very still… But then just a pinch of the ghastly coldness gushed through him again.

“I…” It felt weird to talk, the vibrations in his throat bringing his attention to the blood steadily being taken from his body. “I don’t...”

Zemo snapped his head away with a big satisfied sigh. James groaned as the sedative almost instantly dimmed away, replaced by a consistent stinging in his throat, slowly spreading up and downwards, steadily following the paths of his bloodstreams, all while his wounds bled, blood dripping down his neck.

“It hurts,” he found himself muttering under his breath. “Don’t stop.”

But Zemo just smiled at him with an open mouth, fangs dripping. He lifted his head and kissed him slowly, James tasting his own blood on those teeth. It made him feel tipsier than he already was.

“You taste delicious,” Zemo groaned, the hand on the neck rising to run along his hair. James’ eyes fluttered shut. “I have never tasted anything as sweet.”

He lowered his head, his hands coming down to rest his collar. Suddenly he tore James’ shirt, threw the pieces of fabric aside and clamped down into the top of James’ chest.

James cried in surprise, still not recovered from the bites on his neck. But he forced himself to steady his breaths and look down. Zemo was gazing up at him with innocent eyes. It made James’ insides warm until he realized he could see the fangs from this angle, borrowing deeper into his flesh, droplets of blood forming around them.

With his neck still hurting, he lifted his hand and winced when he touched the two tears in his skin. But Zemo quickly grabbed that wrist and pulled his hand away, forcing him to hold Zemo’s head steady. But James still saw and felt the warmth of his own blood on his fingers before they dove into in Zemo’s hair.

It made James feel faint, but Zemo distracted him as James watched him moan against his skin and shut his eyes. The view was enough to get James aroused despite the fact that Zemo was consistently gulping down his blood. Slowly, the waves of exhilaration returned, rushing through him once more. James swayed as Zemo continued nuzzling his blood, his own hand mindlessly raking through that hair.

It really wasn’t that bad... At every exhale, James felt more of himself go. His mind was growing dizzier. Hazy. Confused.

The baron’s hair swam before him as Zemo kept going. It felt really good, actually. He needed Zemo. He needed more. Without thinking, James pushed Zemo’s head closer, letting out a throaty sound when he felt the fangs pierce even deeper.

He could feel Zemo chuckling against his skin.

But James couldn’t help himself. It felt so fucking good. And he needed Zemo to go deeper, so that he could release more of whatever this was. To spread that drug faster. It made tension coil inside of him, that pleasure building…

Zemo moaned against his skin as he pushed even further, holding him steady.

In return, James gave a little groan as he blinked hard. His cheeks rushed with a sudden cold sensation, but he couldn’t stop. He was getting closer...

Then came another wave of dread, completely drowning out all of the euphoria.

“Z’mo…” James managed to groan, arms weak as they began to try to grasp his hair and actually tug him away instead of pulling him closer. It was too much. It felt weird to breathe. It felt… “Don’t feel so good,” he managed, tilted his head away, the whole world moving. Zemo pulled away.

“Just a bit more, James,” he croaked. Zemo lowered himself onto his knees. James frowned down at him. Then Zemo bit him in his hip, hard. James shuddered but couldn’t stop him. He tried to tug Zemo’s strands, but the vampire wouldn’t bulge. He sucked hard and fast and the only feeling left was that horrid fear.

But James couldn’t do anything about it. Even his super soldier strength was at its limits. His arms were weak as they tried to push Zemo away. His legs didn’t seem to be able to step back.

James’ head lolled lightly as he gazed down at the baron drinking freely, like this was a drinking game and he was downing as fast as he could. He had lost all control now, and so had James. He couldn’t even fight. When his eyes fluttered, he couldn’t fight his own head from swaying back and making him lose his balance.

From one second to the next, he staggered back.

Zemo was at his side in a split second, arms holding him, lowering him gently onto the warm carpet. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling swayed in Bucky’s vision, blurring and sharpening as he blinked.

It was all so confusing.

When James looked down at his chest, he could see blood trickle from two holes on his chest down his side. His breathing quivered again, a little whimper escaping his throat. Everything fucking hurt, even as he lay on his back, arms out on the floor like he was being crucified.

What the fuck am I doing?

What have I done?

“It’s okay,” Zemo reassured him as he re-entered his field of blurry vision. A warm hand cupped his cold cheek. “You are doing so well.”

Those eyes looked hungry. That voice sounded hungry.

Or drunk, maybe.

“So well,” he whispered.

Doing so well, James repeated to himself.

“Yes.”

James’ head lolled to the side towards one of his outstretched arms, fireplace fuzzy in the background. Then suddenly Zemo was there, his profile obscuring the light. He steadied his arm, lowered his mouth, and bit into his bicep like it was a five course meal.

The sudden sting zapped through him like an electric shock, but instead of screaming out loud, James only managed let out a soft whimper. It was all he could do now, even if he was engulfed by this awful sensation, the coldness spreading through him as his heart raced, trying to fight it. There was not even a morsel of pleasure coursing through him now. It was only this aching pain and horrible nausea. “Stop,” he managed to mumble.

You taste so good, James, he heard Zemo say in his head. So good.

James groaned again, a tear dropping from his eyes as he watched his hand twitch at every pulse of Zemo’s drinking. He was draining him for every last drop.

James’ eyes fluttered. He couldn’t move anymore. He body felt cold and tingly. This had to be the worst way to die.

“Please.”

So good, James... said a voice from somewhere.

A new wave of bliss crashed through him then. He groaned out loud, body squirming as delightful ecstasy surged in his bloodstream. Fuck, that felt good. It didn’t feel bad at all. James felt lighter, almost like he was floating away. It was good – more than good. And he couldn’t think and that was good too. He didn’t know where he was or who he was, but it didn’t matter. None of it did.

A hand pressed down between James’ legs. His throat let out instinctive sounds, his body weakly bulking into it, stars erupting under his eyelids as that hand moved so greedily, rocking against him.

He was so fucking close to that peak, he could almost taste it, despite his dry mouth and the cold that was pulling him under.

He smiled as he watched shapes move in his vision. He had never felt so happy and fulfilled. So good.

He hit the peak like a freight train, just as he dropped into darkness.

 

***

 

The world was blurry and bright when he opened his eyes. He took deep breaths, frowning as he took in his surroundings. His head was killing him. His whole body felt like it was on fire. When he looked down, he realized his was lying on a bed, wearing a white gown, like some patient in a hospital. Only this wasn’t a hospital. He was on that same bed he’d seen before. In Zemo’s chamber.

None of that horrible delight had been a nightmare at all.

He gulped, his last memories quickly resurfacing. He’d let the vampire drink from him. That was where he was, why he was here. Why he felt so fucking exhausted.

James winced when he tried to move his arm. An IV was hooked into him. With a groan he tore it away. His numb fingers found his neck, the healing wounds still there. He looked at the bites in his arm. Closed off, but not fully gone. The fire in the hearth was still burning and it was dark outside. He estimated he must have been out of it for maybe a day or two.

Slowly, still feeling woozy, James made to sit up.

It was only then that he saw everything on the bedside table.

A steaming teapot stood on top of a candle heater. Next to it was a mug and a basket filled with confectioneries.

A handwritten notes on the table read “eat & drink”.

James reached for the Turkish delights and downed a couple of them before he poured himself the black tea. He sipped the hot drink, relishing in the warmth of it. His fingers felt cold.

It was when he was halfway through the second serving that he heard the thump beyond the room.

After downing the rest of the tea, he tentatively got up, using the wall as support to keep himself upright. He knew if Zemo decided to kill him now, he’d stand no chance.

But he pushed the thought away as he trod slowly and uneasily down the hall and the stairs, following the clatter.

If Zemo had wanted him dead, he’d be dead already.

When he entered the main lobby, he paused at the door.

Ten dead vampire bodies were laid out across the hall floor. James could tell they were Hydra, based on their attires and the sigil on their shoulders.

James frowned at the sight.

“For you,” a familiar voice said. James squinted at the figure at the other end of the hall.

“Zemo?” he croaked.

Zemo disappeared and reappeared a few steps away. If James didn’t know better, he would have guessed he looked a bit guilty, with those eyes and that bloody shirt. But James couldn’t help but feel satisfied, knowing that he’d killed those Hydra vampires. For him, no less.

“This is the bounty from last night,” Zemo explained, almost breathless as he motioned at the bodies.

“You killed all those in one night?”

“I did. I plan to add more to the pyre before this day ends.”

Shit. That many? James stumbled a bit closer before he paused again. That was the equivalent of two weeks worth of work for him.

“I’d never been so fast and efficient myself.” Zemo gave him a look. “I succeeded in catching all of them because of you. I have never felt so…”

James took a deep breath, gaze dashing between Zemo’s eyes. He knew what he meant.

“Zemo…”

Zemo disappeared and reappeared in front of him, tilting his head as he really looked at him.

James didn’t know what to say. He found himself falling into the darkness of those pupils, wider than he remembered. Zemo looked different. As euphoric as James had felt when Zemo had first bitten him, when those first waves of exhilaration had hit him. James bunched his fingers in Zemo’s blood stained shirt, needing to feel closer.

“I did this for you,” Zemo whispered.

James hesitated before tilting closer. He closed his eyes when he kissed him slowly, taking his time. He let his tongue explore, feeling along the sharp fangs, making his heart gallop. Which in turn made him stagger. Zemo caught his sides, steadying him as he pulled back to scrutinize him.

“How long will it take for you to recover?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only ever had small wounds, so not that much blood loss.”

Zemo licked his lips at the mention of blood. “I know. I should have stopped myself, but… your blood James, it’s…” Zemo cupped his cheek. “I couldn’t stop.”

“That… that’s okay. You stopped in the end, so…”

Zemo frowned up at him. “I will get better at controlling myself, James, I promise.”

“If you don’t, you’ll kill me,” James said weakly, half-joking. In his state, he found he didn’t care that much about it. Living was hard and tedious. Maybe giving up wasn’t that bad.

“I will not kill you. And trust me, I will only take a little next time. Just enough to get the strength to hunt. I will not… indulge myself as I did yesterday. At least, I will try.”

“No,” James said before he could stop himself, pressing his hand on Zemo’s, still on his cheek. “I…” He gulped. He couldn’t believe it, but he’d fucking enjoyed it. All of it. He’d never felt so at peace than on the brink of death, his life in Zemo’s hands. It had felt so nice, letting go...

Zemo’s eyes twinkled with understanding.

James groaned. “You heard that, didn’t you?”

Zemo smiled. “You enjoyed it?”

“I liked it,” he managed to croak out anyway. “The feeling…” Of losing all his powers. Of giving up control. He didn’t have to worry about anything. At some point, he’d forgotten what pain even felt like. He couldn’t even remember his own name. All that was left was —

Zemo kissed him again, hard, holding his sides, pressing him to the wall, keeping him upright as James’ legs wobbled.

I will go as far as you will let me, Zemo told him. I will go as far as you desire.

Notes:

I'm as addicted to comments as James is addicted to Zemo.

Chapter 3

Summary:

James gives in to Zemo.

Notes:

I'm in the throes of a heavy period so perfect timing!

Also it's late, so if you saw a typo, no you didn't.

James wasn't sure about this.

”You'll go easy? ” he mumbled, leaning back on the bed, full from a lavish dinner. Every day since that first taste, Zemo and Oeznik had cooked him the most extravagant meals, all rich in iron and whatever other vitamins he needed to recover. It would have felt touching, if it wasn't all clearly so that he could replenish on blood as soon as possible and have Zemo drink him out again.

James gulped at the thought.

Then those lips were on his, and all his worries dissolved. His hands grasped to hold Zemo's shoulders, pulling him up on top of him.

A soft hand cupped his cheek as he was slowly pushed down on the pillows. “I'll be gentle, ” Zemo promised, a twinkle in his eyes, those irises reflecting the dim candlelight.

His words sounded as sweet as the caramel cream puffs he'd had for desert, the tang now mixing with the warm addicting taste of Zemo's mouth.

James couldn't help but trust the vampire. He was still weakened from the first feeding. Less than a week had passed since. He knew this kind of physical exertion wasn't good for him right now. He still felt woozy, but that spark in his stomach as he'd watched Zemo observe him eat, plus the wine, had broken all his self-restraint.

He couldn't help himself. He needed Zemo. Right here, right now.

Of course, being as frail as he was, the baron had full control of him, straddling him, pressing his hands to the mattress, giving him no lee-way. No choice. Not that James cared.

Zemo leaned down and kissed him hard. James moaned into his mouth, letting him in, the same way he had let those fangs into his skin just a few nights ago.

Shivers ran up his spine at the memory.

Just as fast, a wave of dizziness washed through him. He blinked, trying to ground himself. It felt like the world was tilting.

Then those hands were running over his body, giving him no time to recover. The nausea remained, even as Zemo explored.

It was the wine, James realized. He should have known better than to drink that much while replenishing his blood loss.

He blinked again, realizing Zemo had parted him from his clothes. James wasn't even sure if he had used his vampire speed, or if he had done it slowly. He couldn't tell. He was completely out of it.

The delicate press of Zemo's fingers brought James right back to full lucidity. “Wait. ” He took deep breaths. “I'm not… ” Ready? Awake? Feeling alright?

James shivered with a stuttering exhale as Zemo paused to observe him.

“I can help you, ” the vampire whispered down at him before kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Help me? ” James croaked, focusing on those dark eyes looking down at him with such veneration.

“Help you relax.”

“How?”

Zemo smiled. “Just listen to me. ” James frowned before his eyes went big. He knew what he was going to do a split second before Zemo whispered the word into his ear. James had no way to stop him. “Relax.”

James groaned as his whole body was suddenly tranquilized. It felt like a sedative had been shot into every one of his limbs. It felt so fucking good. His anxiety quickly followed, drifting off so easily. He didn't need to worry about anything, he realized.

Zemo maneuvered him and his body complied so easily. James' breathing hitched as he felt Zemo use his body just as he had used it that fateful night, when he had drunk from him.

“Is this good? ” The vampire had the gall to smirk, nipping at Bucky's cheek.

“Yeah, ” James sighed despite himself. Because it did feel fucking good. And his mind was at ease. He wasn't troubled or afraid. He didn't need to do or think about anything. Zemo was doing all the heavy lifting for him.

James just had to lie there and take it.

And it felt so wonderful.

James almost fell asleep when Zemo's sharp fangs scraping his skin open snapped him back. He had quickened his pace, smiling down at him with teeth dripping with blood. James squirmed underneath him, restrained by Zemo's strong grasp. All he could do was feel him. The pressure, the friction, the heat, the building pleasure.

“You like this?” Zemo panted as he moved, James’ eyes rolling to the back of his head as the divine sensation of the toxin spread from where those teeth had nicked him.

It was like he could see colors for the first time. Like he could hear a choir of angels sing.

His chin tilted back and his throat sang along all on its own to the rhythm Zemo set. This was heaven. It had to be. There was no other explanation. This was so much better than anything James had ever experienced. Even their nights before Zemo's revelation, they did not compare to this feeling.

His eyes fluttered again. The wine, the blood loss, and now all this exertion, it was taking its toll on his body.

A warm hand cupped his cheek. “Stay with me, James. You’re taking it so well.”

James groaned, trying to stay awake.

“Almost there.”

But the effort was too much. His eyes shut on their own.

When he opened them again, Zemo was spent and sweating on top of him.

“You did so well,” Zemo muttered mindlessly, hand raking through his hair.

Bucky let out a little whine at the praise. He hated how much he enjoyed this. He wasn’t supposed to like being used like this but fuck, he did. He could just take it. Zemo took care of him.

“Did that feel good?”

“Yes,” James said, without thinking twice. The venom in his blood was still making him feel so euphoric, so wonderful.

“I want to take you again,” Zemo murmured under his breath.

“Yes,” James whispered.

Zemo began kissing him across his face and down his neck. “While you sleep.”

James shivered at the thought, imagining the sight of it: him, unconscious, the baron taking advantage of his slack body. And he could finally rest. He was fucking tired.

“Sleep.”

Slumber took a hold of him. His mind was pure chaos, one dream melting into the next. All his past, the hunting, all those faces of fellow slayers, of the vampires he'd killed, meeting Zemo, the revelation, the submission… He could barely feel his body being moved against his will, being taken, again. But when the morning sun shone through those curtains, the knowledge of all that had happened and the blissfully painful feeling across his body was enough to ignite a fire in his chest.

 

---

 

James closed his eyes, leaning back on the bench. He let the setting sun shine on his face as he breathed in the smell of the blooming flowers, brought in by the light breeze. The gardens of the mansion were beautiful. The mazes of bushes and hedges were a retreat, hidden away from the rest of the world. Even if they were already in the middle of nowhere, city so far away.

It was only after a while that he noticed movement further off.

It was Oeznik, snipping away at one of the hedges.

James got up on his feet. After some swaying, he managed to steady himself. He approached the familiar and watched him at work.

“Good to see you on your feet, ” the old man said without turning around.

“Has he always been this crazy?”

The man chuckled. “Even before he got turned, I've heard. ” Oeznik finally turned to him. James wondered how long he'd been working for Zemo. If perhaps his father had been vampire familiar before him. And his grandfather before him. James used to think familiars were idiots who just wanted to become vampires. Maybe he was wrong about them. Maybe he was wrong about vampires too. “You seem like a good lad. If I were you —”

Simultaneously, both of them felt it. They turned back to the mansion. It had been the click of the coffin somewhere in that castle. Zemo was awake. James could feel it in their air, through the goosebumps on his skin. It was uncanny.

Oeznik placed the pruner aside and pulled off his gardening gloves. “I should start preparing dinner with master.”

“Yeah, ” James said, watching him waddle his way up the property, leaving him to wonder what the familiar was going to tell him.

He couldn't shake the feeling that Zemo had somehow overheard their conversation. That he had interrupted them on purpose.

 

---

 

James didn't see much of Oeznik the days following. And he only saw Zemo when he returned with bodies in the morning or left in the evening.

James had over a week to recover from the blood loss before Zemo reassured him that it was safe to feed again. James passed all the blood volume tests. And his blood pressure was back to normal.

Even if he didn't feel completely back to normal, James trusted him. He knew he wasn't supposed to, but he did. And he knew he wasn't supposed to be looking forward to the feeding, but fuck, he was.

Unlike last time, James didn't apprehend Zemo biting him at all. On the contrary. He couldn't wait for it.

After Zemo had announced he would feed again, James was jittery in his chair during the entirety of dinner, losing himself in those eyes. Begging, with his expression, for Zemo to finally grab him and pull him into his chambers.

But Zemo made him wait. Made him eat, even if James could barely focus on the meal, to eager to feel those lips on him again. The fangs, in his neck. That beautiful, beautiful serum in his veins. It was all he could remember from last time. The way it had felt: good.

And then, like some miracle, Zemo answered his prayers. The vampire pulled him to their chambers and gave him what he wanted, pushing him down on the bed, making out with him, getting his heart racing.

He bit him steadily. Suckling a bit here, a bit there. Never too deep nor too painful.

The pull of his blood was so much more controlled than last time. It hurt, but the good feeling flowed through him again as well. That sweet venom that he could almost taste on his lips.

“I want you to keep going. I need you to keep going,” James said between bites and kisses, “even if I beg you to stop.”

Zemo groaned into his mouth. I can do that, darling, he told him.

James sighed in bliss at the words.

He was ready when Zemo made quick work of his clothes, ripping them away. He fucked him hard into the mattress then, but James could hardly focus on any of it, his excitement rising. With his blood replenished, he was fully back, fully in control, fully awake.

Even if he knew he wouldn’t be for long.

The thought made new heat rush through him.

Just as he was tipping over the precipice, Zemo lowered to his neck and bit him again.

That pushed him right over the edge. James let out a loud cry, the exhilaration mixing in with the bite… he’d never felt anything like it before.

“Zemo, please.” He pressed the baron’s head to his skin, forcing those fangs as deep as they would go. He swore he could feel them piercing all the way through his neck. And he delighted in it. His mouth opened as sounds escaped his throat he didn’t know he could make. He kept shuddering and falling apart like there was no end in sight.

In time with his tremors, Zemo gulped down his blood. Yes. Take it. Take it all.

James bucked into him again, chasing another wave of pleasure, desperately in need of friction.

“Feels so good,” he managed, when he found his words again, his throat dry.

Zemo pulled back with a low growl. The pleasure disappeared, replaced with a horrible sting. James whimpered at the sudden switch, writhing underneath him as panic took over. Shit, he’d forgotten how bad this could feel.

“Zemo?”

The vampire leaned back, licking his lips as he took in the sight of James shallowly whimpering.

What the fuck is he doing?

“Shh,” Zemo whispered as he leaned closer. “Relax.”

James’ breathing became slow and deep as his body calmed involuntarily.

But the pain remained. It became even worse, spreading from his neck up to his head and down his shoulders. He realized he was crying when he felt the warm tears drop down into his hair. His breathing stuttered unevenly as he let out little sobs.

“Zemo… it hurts.”

“I know,” the vampire cooed, brushing through his hair, gazing down at him in reverence. Just staring. Just fucking staring.

“Please, make it stop?” Why wasn’t Zemo biting him, spreading that delightful toxin?

“I want to take my time, James, so we can relish in this.”

James winced, writhing again. Relish? It felt like someone was fucking stabbing him, ripping through his body from the inside with a blazing hot knife.

He needed something. A painkiller. The vampire venom. To be knocked out. Anything. He was going to fucking die.

“I need you, please,” his hands desperately tried to grasp Zemo and force him closer to his skin. Surely the vampire was dying to get another taste. “Or… or put me to sleep, please.” Anything but this.

But Zemo stayed exactly where he was, smiling down at him as James wept.

He wasn't sure how long it took until he slowly came closer to brush the tears away. Time was hard to keep track of. “Shhh, it will feel better soon.”

Then Zemo crawled away from him, down his body.

James glared at him in horror. “No, please. Come back.”

But then the baron lowered himself between his legs. Zemo spread one of Bucky's leg at the knee, so easily. James could barely move, limbs still forcibly relaxed. Taking his time, Zemo lowered his head and bit hard into his inner thigh.

“Argh, Zemo!” James pressed his head into the pillow, breathing hard up at the ceiling. “That fucking hurts.”

Good, Zemo told him.

Bucky's arms tried to grasp at his hair to pull him away. But Zemo caught one wrist, grabbing it firmly until James winced. Keeping a hold on his arm, Zemo sat back up on top of him and brought his palm to his mouth. His teeth flashed in the dim light before burrowing into his wrist.

James hissed again, trying to pull his arm away, but it wouldn’t budge. All James could do was watch Zemo gulp blood from him. Drops rolled down his arm and dripped on his chest, on his legs, down Zemo’s arms.

That was when that good feeling coursed through him again.

James groaned in sweet delight.

His hips bucked up all on their own.

That’s the vampire serum, Zemo told him smugly as he retracted from the bite and licked his skin, down his arm and to his torso.

Then he bit him right there again, in his chest.

“Zemo…” His vision was blurring again, his eyes crossing.

That was when the euphoric feeling dissipated again, replaced by pure dread.

This wasn’t right… James had to remember this feeling. He had to leave. He couldn’t let the vampire use him like this. It was too painful.

It was too wrong.

“Too much. Please,” James moaned. The feeling was becoming horrendous, like being in free fall. He regretted asking him to keep going. “Stop.”

But Zemo sucked harder and James cried out in pain, trying to escape, barely finding the energy to move.

Then the vampire pulled away and went for the neck again, this time his right side.

James gasped as he felt the fangs break skin again. As he felt them push in.

Just a little more, James, you’re doing so well.

“No,” he moaned.

I’m going to make you feel good now.

James sighed in bliss as he opened his eyes wide and felt the relief spreading through his limbs, filling him with life. What had felt so wrong just a few moments ago now felt so fucking amazing. He didn't regret it now.

“Zemo…” His eyes fluttered and he had to fight them from rolling back into his head. “Take more. ” James begged. He didn't know how long Zemo had been at it. His fingers felt cold and tingly. His arms were weak. He felt weak.

Zemo obliged.

His face went cold, his arms slackened. Zemo could do with him as he pleased. James had no choice.

He felt Zemo’s hand run through the blood on his chest, collecting it. James expected him to lick his palm, but instead, it disappeared between his legs.

“I’m not sure…” Again? In his current state? While being fed on?

“I can help you,” Zemo whispered between kisses. “Trust me. And don’t fight it.”

Zemo bit him and that beautiful feeling passed through him. James was fucking floating.

“Okay,” James mumbled, half-conscious. He’d do anything Zemo asked.

The baron caressed his cheek. “I want you to enjoy this.”

James groaned with closed eyes as a wave of relief washed through him again. He was enjoying this.

Right?

“I want you to feel good.”

James’ eyes fluttered opened as he relaxed in Zemo’s arms.

“Better?”

He could barely nod, let alone move his head. “Yes.”

Zemo arranged his body as he wished, and used him again.

James felt himself move and jerk but he couldn’t really feel any of it anymore. Nothing physical. Only the emotional sensations, the heat of Zemo’s body against his. Warm, where vampires were usually so cold.

Enjoy.

Feel good.

The way his body rocked up and down, nothing he could do to stop the surge, the storm.

Good.

“Love,” he mumbled, only half there, half delirious with confusion. But he felt the way Zemo went faster then, the way he groaned into his ear.

 James dove into the darkness before hearing or feeling anything more.

 

---

 

When James woke up with the usual IV in his arm, he felt groggy. He ate and drank what Zemo had left him. He had a bad migraine and alongside the bit marks all across his body, bruises were blooming underneath the skin. James felt used and spent in more ways than just his blood loss.

He sighed as he leaned back, trying to breathe. It was dark outside. He had no idea how long he'd been out this time. What was wrong with him? Why was he doing this?

He'd felt so elated after that first time. So excited about the second time. Like a high of a drug, still running in his veins. But now he felt more like himself, more lucid. He wasn't sure about this now.

Once James felt steady enough on his feet to walk, he strolled along the castle corridors, pulling his IV stand alongside with him, looking into all of the rooms.

In a distance corner, he found a small room with an open coffin. Zemo's.

That's when he heard the front doors of the mansion echo through the halls. It appeared Zemo was back from a night out.

James took his time, leaning on the walls to support himself, just has he had the first time. And, just as before, Zemo had brought him his spoils.

But the sight and smell of blood only made James double over and vomit what little he had eaten.

Zemo was suddenly there, holding him steady. James hated how his body leaned in to his warmth. “Come now, I will make you breakfast.”

James ate quietly. The sun was rising, Zemo preferring to have curtains drawn halfway over the windows, so that he remained in the darkness while James was in the light.

Still, Bucky's heart skipped a beat every time he looked up from the freshly brewed coffee and into those eyes, at the man he'd fallen in love with.

But even as he sat there, a frustrating little voice in the back of his head wouldn't shut up, warning him that this was all the serum. That all of this was wrong.

When James finished the last pancake, he cleared his throat.

“Zemo,” James hesitated. “About last night…”

Zemo dashed closer, his chair suddenly right next to him, that stunning face inches away. His speed made Bucky's head spin. “It was two nights ago.”

James cringed. “I was out that long?”

“Yes.” Zemo smirked.

“Zemo, I… I don't know how I feel about… what you…”

Zemo leaned in with all the ease in the world and pressed his lips to his. James gasped into the kiss before melting into the familiar motion as he kissed him back.

It felt so fucking nice, like everything James had ever wanted.

When Zemo pulled away, James came back to his senses. “Zemo…”

The vampire's eyes darted between his, so innocent. “You told me to keep going, even if you said no.”

“Yeah but not like — ” he was cut off by another kiss, by firm hands grabbing his shirt, lifting him off his chair and onto the table. Glasses and cutlery were pushed from the table and fell to the stone floor with a clatter.

“What were you saying? ” Zemo asked, crawling on top of him.

“I… ” James couldn't remember. He could only focus on the now, lifting his hips off the table to grind against Zemo.

“I will keep going, no matter what you say, James,” Zemo kissed him, his fangs visible as he grinned, “I can't stop. I won't.”

James wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him again.

Not like he could do anything about it.

Least of all now, being taken so sweetly by the devil.

 

---

 

He approached the coffin with slow steps. Vampires were vulnerable when asleep, which was why their coffins were usually hard to find. But here was Zemo's coffin, in this antique-looking room, candelabras flickering in the light draft.

Zemo had gone to bed after they had left the dining table in a state of ruin. James had enjoyed every second of it. Both of them had, making love half in the light and half in the dark.

But the dread and the pain of last night — no, two nights ago — it haunted him.

He couldn't keep doing this, no matter how much he wanted it.

James grabbed one of the candles and came closer. He could let it fall on the wood, let it all burn up. Even if Zemo woke up, it would be too late for him. The fire would get him.

But James wanted to do this himself.

He placed the candle aside and cautiously opened the coffin. These creatures slept deeply in their cocoons. It would be hard to wake them. James had the high ground now.

He stared down at the sleeping vampire.

Zemo looked so peaceful like this. So innocent. So human.

When he was anything but.

A killer. A betrayer. A liar. A seducer. A demon.

Ever so slowly, James pulled out the knife from his belt and knelt down at his side.

He leaned on the side of the coffin, feeling the soft fabric within. His free hand wandered. He tucked hair from that sleeping beauty's face.

Then James turned his knife, pointy end to Zemo's chest. He watched it dip the fabric. Every slowly, he pressed in, until he saw the patch of red form on that shirt.

He looked back up at the vampire's face. Dark eyes were staring right back at him.

James froze. He expected Zemo to grab the knife from him with his vampire speed and wield it himself.

Instead, he slowly wrapped his own hand around James' and ever so gently took the knife away. He pressed it in a nook of the coffin and grabbed James' collar. Ever so slowly, he pulled him into the coffin. Then he closed the top over them.

James' breath stuttered. They were enclosed. It was so pitch black, James might as well have been blindfolded.

It felt hard to breathe, too.

Not that breathing mattered, because Zemo's mouth and hands were on him immediately, before James could even think of what to say.

James lost himself in the kiss as Zemo pushed him down to lie on his back as the vampire lay over him.

He felt those hands wander down, pull away his pants, pull up his shirt over his arms — as far as the space allowed it.

James didn't fight him.

James let Zemo take him, not a care in the world.

Why care, when it felt so good?

He'd let him live, just for one more night.

 

---

 

James was fast asleep when he heard the bang. He blinked in the pitch black, sure he had dreamed it, when he heard it again.

Closer.

He scrambled to find the knife in the corner of the coffin. Zemo was fast asleep, squeezed in next to him, body hot with warmth.

James was just about to try and wake him when the coffin top opened, flooding them with light.

He squinted up at the bright light of the candle-lit room. The moment he realized he was staring down the barrel of a gun, he reacted on instinct. He jumped up and thrust his knife forward, jumping on the intruder, kicking them back on the chamber floor, gun flying from their hand.

James straddled them, yanking his knife out from where it had lodged — in this man's chest — and lifted it above his head to stab him again.

When he saw the fear flickering in the man's eyes, he froze.

He knew -

“Bucky?”

“Monty? ” he gasped, dread filling him like ice thrown down his back. He'd just stabbed — No. No, it couldn't be.

Monty frowned up at him as he covered his wound, clearly in shock. James quickly leaned forward to help apply pressure, knife forgotten. Monty cried out in pain, panting. “I don't — I don't understand. What are you —”

“Well done, James.”

James shivered. The sly voice had come from behind him. A pointy finger traced across his back before the vampire crouched down on the side of Monty's wound. The man that was now staring with terrified eyes at the baron. Zemo put one hand on the man's cheek in mock reassurance. “What a treat you've brought me. ” Zemo leaned down, but James grabbed his shoulder to keep him away from the wound.

“No — You can't. Zemo, he's… he's a friend. We need to — ” James gulped away the tears. What, they needed to call an ambulance? Fuck. He'd… This was...

“James… ” Monty muttered, shivering. “I don't understand… you're with…? ” His eyes darted to Zemo and back to him.

James had never seen anyone look so betrayed.

“No — ” James muttered, tears gathering in his eyes. He had probably just killed one of his only friends. “It's not like — It's complicated.”

“Please, ” the hunter pleaded at Zemo now. “Let me go. I won't hunt you again. I swear it.”

“A pity. ” Zemo suddenly dove down, right into the wound, the man screaming so loud that James' first instinct was to cover his own ears with his bloody hands. “Zemo, stop it! ” James shouted over the agonizing wailing.

He was going to kill the both of us, Zemo told him through his mind, even as he drank up like he was dying of thirst. And he's going to die anyway.

“He's my friend! ” James tried pulling him away, but Zemo was too strong, and James was still too weak, his body still recovering from last time. “Please. For me. ” He gulped as he watched the man's face turn white, his screams now whimpers. He leaned down, letting his tears fall as he pressed his forehead to Monty's. All the time spent, hunting together back in the day, before everything, before Hydra. All the shared moments of comradery from so long ago. With him, Steve, and the others hunters. All shattered. It was holding him that James felt Monty's pulse slow before it stopped completely.

Faintly, in the background, he felt Zemo lean back and let out a loud moan of satisfaction with a little chuckle. Muttering something about how good it had tasted.

James broke down in tears, passing out still holding the corpse.

 

---

 

No amount of extravagant meals were enough to entice James. He didn't budge as he sat by the window, thinking back to that horrendous moment. He hadn't slept a bit all night. This had all been his fault. He'd killed Monty. It was his fault!

If he'd just done his damn job and killed Zemo…

“Then most of the Hydra coven would still be alive now, ” Zemo grunted as he entered the room with a determined stroll, wearing his fancy coat and gloves.

How long had he been standing in the doorway? “Stop reading my thoughts.”

“No, I won't. ” Zemo moved over to him. James could tell he was trying to cover up the blood from his night out. But James could smell it on him. That irony smell. “Come.”

“No.”

Zemo grabbed his arm. “Yes.”

James tried to shake him off. “No.”

“I have something to show you.”

“I don't fucking care, ” James spat.

“I think you will. Come.”

James' body slackened before it stood and obediently followed Zemo. Bucky didn't fight it. He knew it was useless, so he just gave in to it.

He walked with Zemo to the main hall to see the usual display of his bounty.

Only it wasn't the usual bounty at all.

James froze, breath hitching as he realized who Zemo had brought him.

These vampires were still alive. Bruised, bloody, bound, and gagged, but still alive.

James slowly stepped into the hall. Those pairs of eyes recognized him instantly and went big with fear. The figures fought their restraints with new passion, frantic shouts muffled.

The world tilted as James took in the sight of them, all on their knees. Zemo quickly appeared at his side to hold him. He knew some of them by name. Zola. Lohmer. Karpov. Rumlow. The hydra vampires that had experimented on him.

“I did this for you, James, ” Zemo whispered, soothingly running his hands along his neck. Those fingers ran up through his hair, sending shivers down his spine.

The other hand pressed James' silver dagger into his hand. The same he'd tried to kill Zemo with. The same that had inevitably killed Monty.

“Take your revenge, my love.”

James' hand was shaking with fury as he watched the closest of them violently shaking their head, looking up at him with those pleading eyes.

The same pleading eyes James had given them when they had broken him.

With slow steps, James moved behind the first of them. Karpov whimpered, trying to turn his head to see him, but James grabbed his hair to keep him steady. Zemo watched him with excitement.

Bucky suddenly tugged on the hair, forcing the man's chin up, his neck exposed.

James looked right into Zemo's eyes as he slowly slid the knife across the man's throat.

Zemo's lips curled into a smile, those eyes darkening with mischief.

Or was it lust?

One after the other, James held them and then ran that knife along their throats, despite their tears and their muffled pleas.

Soon, all that was left was silence, the room permeating with the smell of blood.

It made James woozy. As the last one fell, he let the knife clatter on the ground, glaring down at his bloodied hands, his bloodied shirt and pants. The floor, puddled with even more blood.

His breathing became faster as he glanced at his reflection in the dark red.

He had enjoyed this.

He was a monster.

Zemo had turned him into a monster.

A hand grabbed his shoulder.

James turned to Zemo, suddenly next to him, those eyes so sympathetic, like the vampire cared for him. And those hands were so soft and warm as they held his cheeks, even as James panted from the exhaustion.

As Zemo pressed his forehead to his.

James couldn't hold himself back for long, tilting his head and kissing Zemo, feeling the thrill as the vampire held him closer.

He was delirious. This act of revenge had used up so much of his strength, both mental and physical.

His legs gave out, but he never fell on the ground. Strong arms caught him and carried him to their bedroom as quick as the wind.

James sighed in content as he was laid on the soft bed. He was so worn out. He groaned as he felt a hot tongue lick up the blood on his hands, sucking his fingers, Zemo humming around him.

“Are you happy, James?”

James sighed, eyes closed, Zemo's warmth on top of him. He felt those fingers tuck hair from his neck. As if... as if making room. James frowned, blinking up at him. Was he going to... “Zemo?”

The baron smiled, brandishing his fangs. “I want to taste you.”

“Zemo, no.” James tried to push him away. “Not now. I haven't recovered yet.”

The baron's eyes were dark with lust. “Yes, you have.”

“No, you feed on me just three days — argh! ” The vampire dove down without warning, teeth digging in uncomfortably, sending shivers of discomfort through him. From that moment, he knew there was no going back.

There was one last vampire rule all hunters knew: if you got bitten, you were not, under any circumstances, to fight it.

The phenomenon was one all good hunters were aware of. When the victims struggled for their life, the vampires got drunk on the chemical hormone cocktail of their blood. It would turn from sweet wine to opium in their eyes.

The fear was addicting, the fight making the blood all the sweeter. Vampires feeding on those struggling would never stop until they had sucked up every last drop.

If you stayed very still, feigned indifference, the vampires could get bored. The blood would taste stale. They lived for the thrill, for the fear of their victims. That, above the blood, was what vampires fed on.

So if a hunter was ever to be caught, fighting back was the one thing they knew not to do.

But James was thrashing in earnest now.

“Zemo, please, ” he groaned, trying to push him off. “It's too much. I don't feel good.”

Zemo ignored him, still drinking his fill. They felt horrid, those waves of cold surging through him. He tried with more strength to push him away, but his hands were flimsy, his vision doubling.

“Please.”

Be good, my love, Zemo told him in his mind. Not a command. A warm hand with sharp nails soothed his cheek as those teeth kept themselves hooked in his shoulder.

Another wave of dread.

James snapped.

“Zemo, stop! ” He writhed with renewed effort now, squirming underneath him, trying to get away, arms flailing, trying to get leverage on one of the wooden bars of the headboard. If he could dislodge one and pierce it through his heart…

“Simmer down.”

James had to fight the compelling words with all his might. “No,” he snarled in response, continuing his struggle, albeit with more difficulty, tears dropping from his eyes.

“I killed Hydra for you, James.”

“And I killed one of my own because of you!” He abandoned this attempt to break the bed. He brought his hands back to Zemo's head to focus on pulling him away, but he didn't budge an inch. James tried to wiggle himself out from underneath him, but the teeth only tore through more of his skin and he howled as it burned. There were no sedatives flowing through him now, only pure agony.

“Stop, please, I'm begging you.”

Zemo growled in pleasure between drinking. “Beg more.”

Tears fell as James looked away, staring at the flames of the fireplace as Zemo sucked greedily. If he had the strength to grab the vampire and throw him into the fire… it was so close, yet so far away. He could barely move.

Another wave of determination passed through him as he shook and struggled. Zemo only laughed against his skin, moaning like he was enjoying this.

“You taste much better like this.”

Then Zemo was gone.

For a second, James let out a deep breath of relief.

But before he could even roll on his side and cover his wound, Zemo was back straddling him, this time with two pairs of cuffs in his hands, smirking.

James' eyes went big, his face whiter than it already was. “No, Zemo. Please. You don't have to. I'll stop struggling, I swear.”

“You misunderstand, ” Zemo said. In a dash, one of James' arms was pulled up and away to one end of the bed, tied to one of the very bars James had tried to dislodge. “I want you to struggle. ” And then the other arm was attached to another. Spread out like this, he barely had any room to move.

“Zemo, please. I'll do whatever you want. ” Zemo didn't reply, instead ripping away all the fabric on him and forcefully sinking his teeth in his chest. James cried out again, his scream falling on deaf ears.

Or had it? Because Zemo pulled away. For a split second, James hoped he'd changed his mind. But then he sank back down on another spot. James watched Zemo's eyes roll to the back of his head as he moaned against his skin. And pulled back again. And sunk back down. And over and over again, marking his entire body with cuts.

James pressed his head into the pillow and wept, struggling against the restraints, trying to get his hands out. If he wasn't so weakened by the blood loss, he might have stood a chance. But not now. Not in such a state. “Stop. Please.”

Keep begging me to stop, Zemo laughed at him.

Then he lowered himself between his legs and bit right where James dreaded it the most. He saw stars as he keened, arms desperately pulling against the restraints even as his body betrayed him.

Somehow, Zemo's eyes got even darker. “So you do like this.”

“No. ” James thrashed and squirmed, wishing he was somewhere else. Anywhere. But he couldn't get away. All he could do was endure while the bites kept coming and his tears kept falling.

He lay there while all strength left him, until his breaths slowed, became deeper. Until he stilled, a lifeless vessel of blood for Zemo to use at his pleasure.

James' eyelids grew heavy, despite the pain.

When he opened his eyes again, he was sure he'd passed out for a few moments, because suddenly Zemo was back on top of him, smiling down at him. He felt a pressure between his legs.

James tried to shake his head, feeling drunk out of his mind as the world spun. “No,” he slurred. “Pl'se.”

A gentle hand cupped his cheek. James leaned into the touch, seeking comfort. “Open up for me, James.”

And then it was suddenly so easy to let him in, the vampire's motion so smooth. James gasped as he felt Zemo ride and kiss him so sweetly. He closed his eyes, taking in the sensation. But his heart was galloping and he felt faint and nauseous. And the way his body was rocking up and down wasn't helping.

“Z'mo. Please. Stop.”

“I want you to feel good,” came that sly voice from next to his ear.

James sighed as pleasure tingled up his spine.

But it wasn't right. This wasn't him.

This was the compelling voice, controlling him. This was the vampire poison.

“I can give you some poison too, ” Zemo promised, like he had heard his thoughts. Zemo bit him right in the neck. James was about to moan a complaint, but then the most pleasant sensation coursed through him, and the moan turned into one of pleasure.

“More, please, Zemo. ” He kept his eyes shut, gulping as the buzz raced through him, kindling his insides like fire. His hands turned to fists. “Please, more.”

Zemo bit him on the other side and injected even more of that beautiful poisonous serum. James groaned, but not out of pain. He could feel his body's reaction to the unnatural intrusion, the tingles, the throbbing rush of need. He couldn't help it. He started moving too. He needed Zemo.

His heart fluttered as he moaned with each of Zemo's thrusts.

But then the poison drained from him, replaced with that horrid ice cold dread again. “Zemo…”

“Shh.” Those fingers raked through his hair as Zemo quickened his pace. “Come for me, James.”

His eyes snapped open.

“No!”

But it was too late. His body complied without his consent. He convulsed underneath him, wrists bruising from the cuffs, Zemo smiling down at him with smug satisfaction. His body was Zemo's to control at his whim. The tears ran faster now as he cried, betrayed as the aftershocks crashed through him, continuous proof that Zemo had full control over him.

“I don't want this,” he moaned, the words lacking conviction, his body still feverish with need.

“Yes, you do.”

James sniffled as he struggled some more, Zemo upping the tempo without a care in the world, biting him across his chest, stomach, arms. He was burying into him, over and over and over again. Everywhere and anywhere.

James slowly gave up, letting him take him whole, tears drying on his skin as he sighed in resignation.

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

The world faded with the thought.

A small smile spread on his face as he saw the light.

Notes:

I definitely didn't need to look up all those hydra character names because i deeefinitely know them yes yes

Hope you enjoyed! 🧛