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If you had asked Regulus Black a couple months ago about his thoughts on vampirism, he would've said he didn't really have any beyond the obvious. Fangs. Bats. Blood. Neck biting. That was about it.
Hogwarts' curriculum regarding "dark" creatures was shockingly lacking in anything but fear mongering, so when he got bit and turned on that fateful night nearly a month ago, Regulus had no idea what awaited him on the other side. He thought he knew hunger, thirst, but while humans can satiate themselves with various food groups and items, his new vampiric body only knows true satisfaction through blood. But turns out Regulus the vampire is as picky as Regulus the human, the bastard. Not once has he been happy with his allotted share at the blood bank. One would think blood is blood, but apparently not.
It's honestly bloody annoying. No pun intended.
He was convinced he'd just have to make do with a lifetime of mediocre meals, the act of feeding being solely practical and not enjoyable anymore. At first he'd thought it was a freshness issue, who knows how long the bank keeps their little baggies of blood for? Granted they are wizards, so one would assume a decent stasis charm would keep it from, what, going bad? He expressed this theory to his friends when he finally caved and agreed to host them for the first time since his transformation, to which he immediately got offered various necks and wrists to bite.
At first he staunchly refused, but after another week of unsatisfying trips to the blood bank, he gave in— to no avail. He refused to actually bite any of his friends, but they gladly allowed Dorcas, their resident healer in training, to safely extract enough of their blood for Regulus to confirm they all tasted equally bland to him. Barty mocked him relentlessly for daintily sipping blood from shot glasses, but Regulus just rolled his eyes. As if the Ministry's bloody juice boxes he'd been resigned to were any more dignified. He appreciated the mess-free approach, but even though he seemed to lack the vampiric biting instinct, he still felt utterly ridiculous. And doomed to eternal dissatisfaction, it would seem.
Such is the life of a shit nitpicky vampire.
Truthfully his new found dark creature life has made Regulus into more of a recluse than before. Sure, he can theoretically still go out, meet people and share regular meals with them, but if he felt a bit like an outsider before, now the feeling is a like a heavy cloak that he absolutely cannot shed or ignore.
He's been able to avoid his brother and his lot pretty successfully so far, but when Sirius sends him a fucking howler detailing how he will not hesitate to break into Regulus' flat if he deigns once again to miss the monthly game night Sirius hosts in that godforsaken townhouse he shares with Potter, Pettigrew and Lupin, well — They all know about the vampire stuff at this point, it's not like Sirius can keep a secret to save his life. Plus Lupin himself is a dark creature, a fact he stopped hiding since they all left Hogwarts. Neither of their friend groups treat him any differently for it; he gets teased both for his werewolf traits as well as his tall stature and somewhat clumsy nature, just like everyone else gets affectionately ribbed for various traits and stances. Regulus just prefers to fade into the background most of the time, and his transformation and new vampiric traits are sure to get him more attention than he wants from the rowdy group of boys.
He briefly considers inviting his own chaotic group of friends to join him, but maybe putting everyone together isn't exactly conducive to the mostly quiet night he vainly hopes for.
As the sun sets and afternoon turns into evening, Regulus dons his favoured pair of dark trousers and high neck jumper, both to provide comfort and hide his still red bite mark. As far as he knows it'll fade in time, but seeing as it's still barely a month old and his pale complexion is notorious for getting easily marked up… He supposes he'll just live in turtle necks and scarves until further notice.
He apparates to the alley behind his brother's place at the designated time, steeling his nerves for the coming events. It's not that he doesn't like spending time with Sirius and his friends, they're all fine people who've never truly mistreated him, and he has had fun at these game nights in the past. But he's still very much adapting to this new way of life, and the less he has to worry about beyond building a new satisfactory routine for himself right now, the better. But alas, brotherly duty calls, he guesses.
Once he comes to the front of the house, he feels the wards shiver around him as he steps through the front gate, announcing his presence to its inhabitants. As per usual, he barely has a chance to step onto the porch before Sirius opens the door and calls out for him loudly before he barrels into Regulus, arms wrapping him in a bear hug. It's like as soon as they were able to get out of the cold clutches of their childhood home, Sirius took it upon himself to make up for all the years they lacked in familial physical affection. It's honestly sort of sweet, but it's also Regulus' duty as the less touchy-feely brother to try to good-naturedly shake off Sirius' initiatives.
"Unhand me, you clingy pest," Regulus squirms, but Sirius' strong arms don't give at all.
"No," Sirius pouts, squeezing his arms tighter. "You will accept my affection, Reginald."
"Maybe if you called me by the right name. Also I can't breathe—"
That seems to catch Sirius off guard, his arms going a bit slack and he pulls back, brows furrowed. "Do you still need to? I thought you were like, undead now. Well, more so than usual."
"Ha-Ha," Regulus deadpans. "I regret to inform you my lungs still do work and I do still need oxygen to power my possibly semi-undead body."
"Huh," his brother muses, grey eyes closely studying him.
"Sirius," Regulus tries again, leaning away from the intense stare. "Let. Go."
"Oh my fuck," Sirius leans closer still, his voice high with unbidden interest. "Your eyes. They're like, black now."
"Yeah, yeah. Vampire thing, I guess." Sirius still has his arms locked around him, seemingly forgotten. "Can I please have my limbs back now?"
"Hm? Oh yeah, sorry." Sirius lets go and takes a step back, leaning so the porch light can better illuminate Regulus' face. "Merlin, that's uncanny."
Regulus shrugs. "They're just eyes. I can still see fine."
"No enhanced vision?"
"Not that I've noticed. But I can echolocate now."
Sirius' eyes widen, his mouth pulling into a wide grin. "Like a bat? Actually?"
"No, Sirius, of course not," Regulus says with the biggest eye roll. "Stop with the interrogation already, will you? If you don't stop this nonsense and let me in, I will be expeditiously making my escape instead."
"Can you blame me for being curious?" Sirius asks as he blessedly makes his way back to the door. "You're the first vampire I've properly met. First Remus is a werewolf and now my little brother is vamp? I'm damn near close to collecting the whole set."
"Which would be comprised of…?" Regulus doesn't really feel like entertaining this line of thought, but he's trying to make an effort today, so he asks the follow-up question as he takes his shoes off, lining them up neatly on the welcome mat. The sweet smell of cinnamon sugar and warm butter wafts from further inside the house. It almost makes Regulus wish he had an appetite for such things as pastries anymore.
"Oh, I don't know," Sirius shrugs. "Maybe a Veela and a merperson? That sounds pretty good and well-rounded, eh?"
"If you say so."
"Are you hungry?" Sirius asks as he leads them into the living room, promptly throwing himself into one of the armchairs. For a group comprised of mostly well-off purebloods, the townhouse they share has a fairly small living room, and with only a small couch and two armchairs on either side. It's not really a space built for hosting, but Regulus guesses some people might be okay settling for a cushion on the floor around the coffee table, should they run out of proper seating room.
"Uh—" Regulus starts as he claims one end of the couch, but doesn't quite have a chance to finish his answer as Sirius keeps talking.
"Jamie and Pete have been slaving away in the kitchen all day, something about a themed feast? I'll be honest, I was too high last night to pay attention when they explained the plan. I'm just happy I'm not the one cooking. Hm, now that I think about it I probably should've asked if you had any special requests, can you even eat normal people food?"
Regulus resists the urge to eye roll again. "Yes, I can eat 'normal people food'. It just doesn't really curb my hunger much, but it doesn't make me ill either, so it's fine. I don't care what they make. I already fed before coming anyway."
Sirius shoots him an appraising look. "How inappropriate is it to ask a vampire about their feeding habits?"
"I'm fairly certain impropriety has never stopped you before."
"True," Sirius snorts. "So like, how do you feed? Just find someone to stupefy in a back alley and then obliviate them?"
"Of course not, I'm not a brute, Sirius. The ministry has a blood bank. It's all very civilised, you just apply and they provide you a weekly supply. It's not great, but it gets the job done."
"What, is their blood not up to your lofty standards?"
"It's fine." Regulus shrugs.
"Huh, I thought vampires went feral over that shit. Literal bloodlust, and such."
"Yeah, well, you shouldn't believe every story you heard as a child, Sirius."
"He's right you know," a voice pipes up from behind the couch, and Regulus sees that Lupin has joined them in the living room, arms casually crossed across his chest as he leans on the doorway. He almost expects to see the other boy with a freshly baked cinnamon roll, but he seems to be empty handed. They are closer to the kitchen, though, so that would explain the intensifying of the smell. "Before you found out I was one, what did you think about werewolves?"
"Mainly prejudiced bollocks," Sirius answers.
Remus nods. "Indeed. Vampires might not have the same level of bad rep werewolves do of being uncontrollable beasts once a month, but I bet the majority of info general wixen have about them is most certainly biased hearsay."
"Or simply plain lies based on Merlin knows what," Regulus offers.
Remus nods knowingly. He pushes off the wall, opening his mouth to say something else but Potter's booming voice cuts him off as he exits the kitchen and into the shared space, a tray in his hands.
"Reggie!"
Regulus can't help but make a face. Sirius and Potter's fascination and fixation with nicknames is absolutely nonsensical to him. People have names. Bloody use them.
Undeterred by Regulus' grimace, he keeps going. "Petey and I thought we'd make you a themed spread to, uh, celebrate your, uh, new phase of life, yeah?"
"Alright," Regulus drawls uncertainly.
"Pete!" Potter continues. "Come on, leave the garnish alone, mate. I want to dig in." When Pettigrew joins them in the living room, various foods laid out on the coffee table, Potter lays out the menu for them, "Here we have blood sausage, stuffed red bell peppers and tomato soup!"
"For dessert," Pettigrew continues, "we have red velvet cake and strawberry jello. And we have cranberry juice or red wine if you're feeling thirsty!"
"Ah," Sirius nods thoughtfully. "A blood-red feast, I see."
"Wow, thank you ever so much," Regulus deadpans. "I feel like I'm right back in the coven."
Lupin snorts at the quip, but none of the other boys seem to quite pick up on it as he makes his way to the couch, taking the open seat beside Regulus. The couch dips under his weight and it suddenly dawn on Regulus that the sugary cinnamon scent is coming from the werewolf.
What in the world?
Regulus has been a vampire for almost a month now, and he's known Lupin for years. Never has he experienced something such as this. Not for the first time, he wishes being turned came with a handbook, or at the very least, an informative pamphlet.
"I told you he'd like it!" Potter pokes Pettigrew with an elbow, a self satisfied grin on his face.
In a very boyish fashion, his hosts all busy themselves with absolutely stuffing their faces, talking loudly and not really paying attention to him or the way he barely gets through his soup. At least he hopes they don't notice. He doesn't want to be a bad guest, but he can't help but feel like eating regular food when it doesn't do much to satisfy him is a bit of a waste. He nurses a small bowl of the fragrant tomato soup, switching to a glass of wine when the others start on dessert, just so his hands aren't empty. So he seems to be a part of the group.
And so he might fill his senses with something other than the infuriatingly intoxicating smell of Lupin beside him. Because apparently Regulus has a taste for werewolf blood. There's no telling if it's a Lupin thing or a general werewolf thing, all Regulus knows is his mouth keeps watering, his fangs emitting a dull ache, itching to drop — all despite the fact he fed literally not three hours ago.
As the night goes on it gets harder and harder to resist the urge to shift closer to the werewolf, eager to get his hands on him, his fangs in him. Regulus ends up running off to the restroom more than once to get some distance between them.
Why on earth is the living room so bloody small? Even on the second floor he can't escape the sweet, warm, spicy scent. It's honestly a miracle he can stop himself from finding the werewolf's room and burying his face in his goddamn pillow, or something equally as ridiculous.
He tries his best to pay attention to the games and apply himself, but even his natural competitive tendencies aren't enough to overshadow his new found vampiric instinct. It takes nearly all his focus to keep himself under control, and by the time their last game wraps up for the night and Regulus is free, he's in a near feverish state as he hastily flees to the safety of his small flat.
It's only the next morning as he's uselessly guzzling down yet another packet of the unsatisfying red substance the ministry provided him with, that he realises he left his good jacket at the house last night. As annoying as it is, he'll just have to ask Sirius to bring it next time he comes over. He can't very well go back in that house until he figures out how not to react like that to one of Sirius' house mates.
Surely it's a newly turned vampire thing, right? He can't imagine seasoned vampires are going around getting scent high off of certain people's blood; it's highly impractical. Not only was he unable to get a good night's sleep — tossing and turning for hours, kept mercilessly from the blessing of unconsciousness by the haunting of Lupin's blood — he's still fucking thirsty for it, aching for it. The pain in his fangs has subsided to a dull pulse, but it is by no means gone. He really hoped physical distance and a meal would curb the unexpected bloodlust, but no such luck.
It's honestly a miracle he can get anything done the next few days, a testament to how well ingrained his routine is, truly, since his thoughts are mostly comprised of bite, blood, werewolf, cinnamon, blood, bite, sugar, warm, bite, Lupin Lupin Lupin.
When he's not thinking about the werewolf's blood, he's thinking about how to stop thinking about him. Needless to say, it's not bloody working. So much so he thinks he's starting to hallucinate the warm cinnamon sugar smell. There's no other explanation for why on Merlin's green earth he suddenly starts to detect the enticing scent when he's simply trying to get some chores done one fateful afternoon. He briefly considers the possibility of it being due to baking some neighbour might be doing, but what are the chances someone close by decided to make the exact thing that's been driving him to the brink of insanity the last few days? Somehow his preternatural vampiric sense is sure that's not the case. But what could it be?
He knows Sirius is supposed to drop by with his jacket at some point, but it wouldn't make any sense for the werewolf's scent to linger so strongly on his brother, right? Sure, they may share a house, but Regulus didn't have such a reaction when Sirius greeted him at the door when he went over there, so why would it be any different now?
He's busy scouring the bathroom cabinet for an extra tube of toothpaste, still in his holey t-shirt and sleep shorts, trying to trick his brain into not thinking about a certain someone, when a knock comes from his front door.
"Come in, Sirius!" Regulus shouts. "I'll just be a second."
He hears the door open and the sounds of someone moving about, but somehow the smell gets stronger? He actually gets a bit lightheaded and has to sit back on his heels lest he do something ludicrous like collapse halfway inside the bloody cabinet. Sirius is being awfully quiet, but with his head spinning, Regulus doesn't quite have the faculties to think about that too hard.
"Umm," a voice comes from the open doorway of the bathroom. "Are— Are you alright?"
Regulus' eyes shoot open when he registers the voice decidedly does not belong to his brother, and instead none other than Remus Lupin stands on his corridor, his very nightmare come to life.
"Remus!" Regulus exclaims, automatically throwing himself against the door and slamming it closed, his fingers quickly turning the lock.
Somehow knowing it's him and he's right there makes things infinitely worse, Regulus' heart pounds in his chest and he's fighting tooth and nail to control his fangs from dropping. But it's like trying not to blink, his body needs it. He needs Remus.
Fuck.
"Regulus?" Remus asks, his voice high with worry. "Are you okay?"
"'m fine," Regulus manages to get out through gritted teeth, fighting his own body to curb the primal instincts. "Just leave the jacket and get out."
Remus isn't convinced, though. "You don't sound fine."
Judging by the way his mouth-watering scent gets stronger, Regulus guesses he's pressed to the door between them, maybe even crouching down. The image of the werewolf so close to him yet so far behind the flimsy piece of wood makes Regulus groan, a pained sound he can't contain.
"Regulus, please," Remus pleads. "What is happening? Do you need help?"
"I need y—" he managed to stop himself from saying it, attempting to keep even a shred of dignity as his body bloody rebels against him.
"I— Do you need to feed? What happens if you don't?" Remus asks clearly, and then murmurs to himself, "Bloody useless Hogwarts education."'
"Leave," Regulus gets out, trying to move away from the door, but he can't make himself sound like he means it at all when all his brain is thinking is stay, come closer, please, please. He makes is as far as the wall beside the door, slumping against it.
"I can't leave you like this, Regulus. You must keep blood in here somewhere, right? I can get it for you. Just tell me where."
"Not enough. No good." He feels feverish, his mouth moving without full input from his brain.
"Are you running out? Has it gone bad? Fuck."
"Please," Regulus begs. For what exactly, he doesn't know.
"I— I can supplement, if you need? I can't imagine werewolf blood is any good compared to a regular healthy human's, but if you don't mind it and just need some sustenance maybe it'll do in a pinch?"
At Remus' eager offer the feeble control Regulus had over his own body vanishes, the ache in his mouth builds until it bursts, his fangs fully dropping, his hand blindly reaching up to unlock the door. Once the lock clicks, Remus is quick to turn the handle and swing the door open.
"Oh my god," he exclaims when he takes in the image of Regulus pathetically crumpled on the floor.
Remus' cinnamon sugar scent fills the small room and Regulus gets dizzy, his vision blurring as the werewolf kneels beside him, his soft joggers brushing against Regulus' bare legs, hands fumbling as he drops Regulus' forgotten jacket on the floor and starts to take off his own plaid flannel. The sight of Remus' bare neck makes Regulus' pangs pulse with desire, and he unconsciously reaches for the other boy, grabbing onto his shirt, even as he's still fruitlessly trying to fight his urges.
"Okay, how do I—Um," Remus fumbles a bit, unsure how to proceed. Regulus is obviously no help with his thirst addled brain; he's trying really hard not to just yank Remus towards him, uncaring for the how he just wants it now.
Remus ends up kneeling beside him. He brings a gentle hand to the back of Regulus' fevered neck and pulls him close, tilting his head to expose as much of his neck as he can. It's a very sweet gesture, but Regulus doesn't quite have the wherewithal to appreciate it as he finally gets to sink his teeth into the werewolf's skin.
Warm blood floods his mouth, sweet, spicy, a million times better than its scent. For the first time in his month as a vampire, Regulus rejoices in feeding, reluctant to let even one drop escape.
Regulus sits up, energised, and pulls Remus even closer, until he's basically on Regulus' lap as his vampiric instinct clamours for more, closer, more.
"Fuck," Remus gasps, breathless, holding back onto Regulus just as fiercely. "Why does that feel so— Merlin—"
Remus squirms on his lap and Regulus realises sort of in the back of his mind that not only is his thirst quenched, but there's arousal building and spreading throughout his body. The new awareness makes him pull back slightly, trying to clear his mind.
"Why did you stop?" Remus whines. He goes to say something else, but the words quickly turn into a moan as Regulus can't help but lean in to lick the twin streams of crimson that drip from Remus' neck and pool on his collarbone. Regulus' tongue gathers the blood and slides up up up, until he's sucking the sensitive skin right below the werewolf's ear into his mouth, not breaking any skin, simply revelling in the groan it pulls from the boy on his lap. "Yes."
Regulus kisses a bloody path across Remus' neck, up to his jaw until finally their lips connect. Apparently Remus just tastes sweet everywhere, because when Regulus licks into his mouth it just makes him want to devour the other boy. He's not exactly careful of his fangs as they kiss, mostly because he's never had to before. Remus seems to be as much of a fan of them as Regulus is of his blood, though — the werewolf runs his tongue over their sharp points, the cinnamon sugar taste of his sweet blood flooding both their mouths and inciting Regulus to suck on the newly open cuts on his tongue, which pulls a groan out of Remus, low in his throat.
Remus shifts in his lap to properly straddle him, the motion catching Regulus' eye and he notices a streak of blood on his pale thighs, exposed by his sleep shorts. His vampire eyes zero in on the red smear and his mouth waters when he realises where it must've come from.
"What…?" Remus' brow furrows as he follows Regulus' eyeline. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I thought I wasn't due for another couple days, I swear, I—"
He makes to move away, but Regulus is quick to hold onto him, one arm around Remus' waist as the other holds his face so he can look right into the other boy's bright honey-hazel eyes as he says, a note of desperation in his voice, "Remus. I need to eat you out. Right now."
"You— I— Fuck," Remus stammers, visibly swallowing. It's all Regulus can do to keep himself from following the movement and attaching his mouth to Remus' neck once more.
"Please," Regulus pleads, licking his lips at the mere thought.
"Merlin, yeah," Remus breathes, leaning forward to connect their lips once again, his hips sinfully grinding down onto Regulus' crotch, the pressure sending even more sparks of arousal through his body. Between kisses Remus says, "Yes, Regulus, yes. Bed?"
"Bed," he agrees, kissing Remus once more before forcing himself to pull back and use his grip on the other boy's waist to get him off his lap so they can both stand. Hands linked, he leads Remus through the short corridor to his bedroom, silently thanking his past self for being an emo little bitch who's always favoured dark coloured bedding, even before he was likely to spill blood on any and every available surface. "Do you want to lie down or sit up? I just want to get my mouth on you, I don't care how."
Whereas most people's eyes darken with arousal, Remus' werewolf eyes seem to get brighter, flashing gold even as his cheeks flush, "Umm—"
Regulus shifts closer, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, "Let me get on my knees for you."
Remus shivers, a small whine leave his throat as he breathes, "Yeah, okay."
He lets himself be walked back to the edge of the bed, Regulus hands quickly finding the drawstring of his joggers, teasingly undoing them, but instead of pulling them off right away, his focus moves to the hem of Remus' shirt. He waits for Remus to raise his arms before pulling it up and off, swiftly taking off his own shirt in the same breath.
"Rude," Remus whispers, a smile pulling at the corner of his blood smeared mouth as he runs his hands over Regulus' bare chest. "I wanted to do that."
Regulus recalls Remus' earlier reaction to him feeding. "I guess I'll just have to make it up to you," he says as he leans in for a quick pull at the werewolf's neck.
He's rewarded with a delightful gasp at the sensation, but he doesn't want to get sidetracked. He trails his lips across Remus' collarbone, then follows his hands down as they caress the other boy's torso, pulling a bit at the trail of dark hair leading from his bellybutton and coming once again to rest at his waistband as Regulus finds himself kneeling before him, big dark eyes meeting gold as he looks to Remus for permission.
At his assent, Regulus finally takes off his bottoms, unable to contain the moan that rips from his throat as he sees Remus went commando underneath his joggers. Remus has barely stepped out of the soft fabric before Regulus is pushing his hips back and down. Remus eagerly opens his legs to accommodate Regulus between them. His inner thighs are already stained with red, just begging Regulus to lean in and lick them clean, which he gladly does, the cinnamon sugar scent taking on a musky quality now that he's so close to the centre of Remus' arousal. He can't help but nibble on the sensitive skin, causing Remus to gasp and squirm, one of his hands gripping Regulus' hair to ground him, the other sliding back to hold himself up through the onslaught of sensation.
Regulus licks and kisses and bites his way to where Remus is steadily leaking blood and slick, nosing through his pubic hair to start licking everywhere he can reach, literally drinking him in. It's beyond intoxicating.
Regulus loses himself to the sweet taste of Remus' blood, part of his brain registering the gasps and moans the other boy is making above him, feeling his inner walls contract around Regulus' tongue when he pushes inside, the hand in his hair pushing and pulling, getting Regulus exactly where Remus wants him. When Regulus finally lets up his thorough exploration of Remus' hole and folds to be led to his straining bottom growth, Remus nearly screams, his legs closing around Regulus' head at the intense sensation. Regulus smirks against his sensitive skin.
"Like that, huh?"
"Fuck," Remus whimpers, his legs relaxing a bit so he can plant his feet on the floor and fuck himself properly into Regulus' mouth. "Right— Umm, right there. Yeah. So good. Just need—"
His words are interrupted by a gasp when Regulus promptly brings a finger below his mouth and circles Remus' entrance a couple times before pushing in oh so slowly. He alternates flicking his tongue against Remus' bottom growth and pumping his finger, curling it up and quickly adding a second, then third when Remus whispers a broken, "More, more."
Regulus dutifully laps and sucks and pumps until Remus is a writhing mess above him, the hand in his hair holding on for dear life as he rides the waves of orgasm. Regulus' face and chin is a wreck of come and blood by the time Remus collapses back onto the bed, panting. Regulus stands and takes a moment to suck his shiny fingers into his mouth, his eyes closing in greedy bliss, not wanting any drop of Remus to go to waste.
When he opens his eyes back up, Remus is propped up on his elbows, golden eyes hungry still as he takes in the image of Regulus at the foot of the bed, covered in his slick and blood, his sleep shorts doing nothing to hide his neglected erection.
"Come here," Remus says. He motions at Regulus' lower half with his chin. "Take those off. We're not done."
Regulus chuckles as he divests himself of his shorts and underwear. He's fairly satisfied as far as blood and lust goes, but he won't say no to a pretty, bloody boy in his bed. Remus sits up and reaches for Regulus' waist, pulling him onto his lap this time and not wasting even one second before his lips connect with Regulus skin. The kiss is slow but deep, and Remus hums contentedly as he languidly licks into Regulus mouth, certainly tasting himself on his tongue.
Soon the kisses turn heated, Regulus moaning when Remus sucks and bites his bottom lip, Remus' hands sliding down to palm his arse before he starts to shift his lips down Regulus' neck and chest, encouraging him to get his knees underneath him until his cock is just about Remus' eye level. Instead of diving right in, Remus picks a soft spot above his hip to suck a bruise into his pale skin, holding Regulus in place with an arm around his waist as his free hand trails up the ticklish insides of his sensitive thighs. His hand goes up and up until he's caressing Regulus' perineum, whose moan turns into a hiss when Remus bites down hard on the skin just below his opposite ribs, marking him on both sides.
"Sorry," Remus apologises as he licks over the bite mark, looking up at Regulus in penance through long eyelashes.
"It's only fair, I suppose," Regulus lightly giggles, one of his hands pushing Remus' hair back so he might see the other boy's face clearly.
There's a tender moment where Remus places a sweet kiss just below Regulus' bellybutton, his golden eyes positively molten as he looks at Regulus' dark gaze. It brings a blush up to Regulus cheeks, and he can't help but pet the soft, freckled skin of the other boy's cheek. Remus' mouth pulls into a soft smile at the gesture, but it quickly turns wicked as he leans to start kissing down Regulus' hard shaft, pulling a groan from his throat.
Remus hums, using a hand to hold Regulus in place and hold back his foreskin as he suckles on the underside of his cock, maddeningly swiping his tongue back and forth just underneath the head. Regulus whines at the stimulation, his hands sliding down to squeeze Remus' shoulders, trying to hold onto something solid as he gets dizzy from the feeling of Remus properly taking him into his mouth. He nearly fucking blacks out when he sees Remus reach between his own legs before bringing up blood covered fingers and deftly wrapping them back around Regulus' length, pumping his hand and spreading red all over as he tongues the slit before sucking him down again. With Remus' other hand alternating between massaging his balls and just behind them, Regulus' pleasure builds quickly, his moans getting higher pitched, his nails digging into the werewolf's shoulders.
"Remus, I'm—" He's so close to tipping over the edge, but just then Remus pulls back, his bloody hand squeezing Regulus at the base, preventing his climax from coming to fruition. "Fuck, so close. Why…?" Regulus pants as he sits down on Remus' legs, his head falling forward on the other boy's shoulder. Remus' clean hand comes up to the back of Regulus head, giving him a reassuring pet.
"You can't fuck me if you come too soon now, can you?" Remus asks softly, with a little kiss to the side of Regulus' face. Regulus makes an unintelligible sound at the question, which makes Remus chuckle. "Do you want that?"
"Yeah. Fuck." His hands squeeze Remus's waist. "Yes."
"Perfect. Do you have a condom?"
"One sec," Regulus shifts over so he can reach the nightstand. "Do you need some wet wipes, too? For your hand."
"A gentleman, how considerate. That's alright, I think I know a pretty boy who'd love to lick it clean instead." Remus winks at him and Regulus blushes again, bashful as he rips open the small foil package and slides the condom on. His hands shake a bit with adrenaline and anticipation, but he hopes it's not too noticeable.
When Regulus turns back to see that Remus is laid out on his bed, legs spread wide, he can't help the groan that leaves his throat. He looks gorgeous and red and it's all Regulus can do to claim the open space between his legs and bring their faces close together for another kiss, all tongue and teeth. Remus snakes that faithful hand between them, humming as he slides two fingers in himself, his free hand coming up to pull Regulus' face back by the hair before he brings the bloody digits up, his smile growing cocky when Regulus readily opens his mouth for Remus to slide into, licking up every last drop and relishing the sweet and spicy cinnamon taste of him.
"There you go," Remus praises when there's no more red to be found on his hand. "I'm ready when you are."
The high Regulus is riding from being brought to the edge and then having Remus in his mouth begs him to push right in, but he wants to savour it. He takes hold of his cock and rubs it along the seam of Remus' body, making them both a mess of his blood while Remus whines and squirms beneath him in frustration. Once Regulus is satisfied with the artful mess he's made, he guides his hard length to Remus' entrance, which is slick and loose and eager to swallow him up.
They both gasp as Regulus slides in and quickly bottoms out, Remus' body accommodating him like it was made for it, impossibly perfect.
"Merlin, Remus. You're—" Regulus cuts himself off with a moan when Remus squeezes around him.
"Fuck, yeah," Remus groans with a nod. "So good. Fill me so well."
"Can I…?" Regulus asks with a small movement of his hips, grinding down as if by sheer force of will he could fit more of himself inside Remus.
"Please."
He starts with shallow thrusts, relishing the drag and pull of it, but Remus isn't as patient. The werewolf plants his feet on the mattress and uses the leverage to rock himself back and forth on Regulus' cock, increasing the friction to his heart's content, until Regulus is meeting him thrust for thrust, theirs bodies coming together harshly, deliciously.
Regulus leans down to kiss him at the same time Remus wraps his legs around his waist. The new angle allows for him to grind his bottom growth up on Regulus's body, who is happy to swallow the other boy's moans at the added friction. He feels Remus' bloody thighs smearing red on his stomach, his hips, and he can't help but push himself up so he can watch it happen, watch as crimson paints his pale skin, marking him with Remus' very life essence.
The sight hits him bodily, his fangs ache once more, his cock throbs as it pumps in and out, and he knows he's quickly hurtling towards orgasm once again.
"Close, Remus. I'm close, I—" Regulus' eyes catch on Remus' neck, the place where his fangs first breached his skin, the first way Remus allowed him to share his body, and he finds himself drawn to it again. He brings his mouth to that sacred spot on the werewolf's neck, licking it, waiting for permission even as his body continues moving against Remus', chasing the climax he's so close to.
"Do it, Regulus," Remus pants, one hand around his waist, pressing their bodies even closer together, the other at the back of Regulus' neck again, offering himself up. "Come for me. Do it."
Just as his wave of pleasure is about to crest, he bites down and it's the warm blood on his tongue again that sends him over the edge. He's in a lust haze as his throat and hips keep working, Remus' blood spilling into him as he spills his come into Remus in return. It takes him a few moments to register Remus' high whine as he too climaxes, his legs shaking as he squeezes Regulus to himself.
He takes another gulp of blood before he unlatches from the other boy's neck and allows himself to collapse onto Remus, both their chests rising and falling rapidly as they come down. He tries to move but as his awareness comes back online he registers a firm pressure around his still half-hard cock.
"Remus?" Regulus mumbles, trying to shift his hips but finding that somehow Remus' body has locked him inside. He can't move away. Not that he really wants to, but his endorphin riddled brain also seems to not have a filter right now, and he finds himself giggling at the whole situation. His wriggling seems to clue Remus in to what's going on.
"Wha— Oh my god. This can't be happening," Remus grumbles, but there's an edge of a smile in his voice, and then a giggle also escapes him. "Fuck me."
"But I just did," Regulus replies through his laughter. "I sort of still am? Do you have a snare hole, what's happening?"
"It's a werewolf thing," Remus explains sobering up a bit. Then lowers his voice, hesitantly. "A mating thing."
Regulus raises his head to look at him, and his silence prompts Remus to elaborate.
"It's… Well, I guess it's my version of a knot."
"A… Oh. Oh."
Remus looks away. "Yeah. Sorry. I didn't know it was going to happen."
"That's alright," Regulus reassures him.
"Must be the moon?" Remus offers, but he still sounds very unsure, almost… bashful.
Regulus smiles at the endearing display. "I don't mind it."
"No?"
"No," Regulus repeats. "It feels… sort of nice?"
Remus laughs. "I mean, I obviously like to be filled by you, so I won't disagree."
"I think I'm starting to go soft, though," Regulus gives, trying to move again but Remus' body still won't let him get away. It's an odd feeling. But is he's being honest, it's not unpleasant. Not at all.
"I've— I've never knotted anyone before," Remus confesses in a small voice.
"Oh. Hm. I guess I'm sort of honoured. Although it is a bit like being a glorified tampon."
"Regulus!" Remus guffaws, hitting his shoulder good-naturedly.
"I didn't say I was complaining! Hello? Vampire? Blood?"
"You're unbelievable," Remus says, but he's reaching up to hold Regulus' face and give his bloody mouth a kiss, and Regulus certainly isn't about to complain about that either.