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You calm the storms, and you give me rest,
You hold me in your hands, you won't let me fall.
You still my heart, and you take my breath away.
~
It's not like Zanka has no control over himself, alright!
He has complete control over his instincts and cravings as a vampire, and he was able to keep himself and the other vampires on and off his team in line. He was of noble blood, but that didn't mean he was infallible.
There were still temptations he had to handle, and some were harder to ignore than others.
Seeing someone bare their neck unsuspectingly when he hadn't fed in a while was something he had to and would ignore. Having someone, usually Enjin or Riyo, lean into his personal space, their own vampire blood a strong pulse in Zanka's ears was also something he had to ignore, even if he had to ask them to repeat what they had previously said.
There were plenty of urges and desires in Zanka's life that he could easily disregard.
However, Rudo Surebrec, the little omega who had fallen from the heavens, was not one of them.
Rudo was a temptation that Zanka still hasn't figured out how to resist yet. It's not like he really wanted to; it was just expected of him as a Nijiku. Because Rudo, Rudo was special. He was a fantastic Cleaner; he completed every job given to him and made fast friends with everyone in the organisation. And no matter how much he'd like to deny it, Zanka himself was fond of the brat.
And when they discovered that Rudo's ancestors were from the pit, and that he had vampire blood running through his veins as a half-blood or dhampir – as his kind were called, it only increased Zanka's attraction to him as a potential mate.
His sweet-blood was a siren's song to him the moment they had met, when the little brat accidentally stole his lovely assistaff. An unfortunate memory that still makes him cringe.
And despite being an omega or the fact that his powerful Surebrec lineage had been diluted due to his human mother, Rudo was strong and an astounding mate after they had gotten over their awkward confessions and courting. Fumbling shyly in hidden corners to sneak kisses and heart-stammering hand-holding that left them flushing as bright as Riyo's hair.
Zanka did everything in his power to keep his instincts in check around his little dhampir; he didn't want to hurt Rudo. He was more than willing to cut open his chest, break through his ribcage and rip his still beating and bloody heart out for the little omega. All he had to do was ask.
It was quite frightening how much hold Rudo had over him.
And most of the time, Zanka could keep himself under control, but he couldn't deny all the times he wanted to just break around his little mate. Like when Rudo would lay on top of him in bed, and Zanka couldn't focus on anything but the steady beat of his heart, or when he woke up first, and Rudo would be laying there, sound asleep and defenceless, and Zanka would have such an urge to reach over and pin him down and drown in his unique sugar-sweet and iron-rich scent.
It wasn't long before that careful control he had proudly built up broke, when, during a routine clean-up mission, those damn Raiders had, for some inane reason had teamed up with the traffickers of the area and attacked them. No doubt again wanting Rudo to join their merry circus troupe.
Jabber, with his razor-sharp claws, cackled and took a swipe at him, and in the chaos of fighting the tan-teenager off, his little dhampir was kidnapped.
Shouting voices, snarled and hissed in human tones, loud and shrieking and full of fear and others of vicious delight reached Zanka's ears as he stared at Jabber, who was watching him smugly.
Zanka didn't remember what happened afterwards; everything was swimming in a dense, red fog. All he knew was that somehow, in the confusion of screaming and bloodshed, Zanka found Rudo.
He was bound, lying on his side, stripped down to only a thin under-shirt and trousers, blood pooling around him. The scent of his discarded hoodie, thrown into a dumpster out behind a crumbling building, had misled Zanka at first.
The question of why Rudo's scent was inside the dumpster had him throwing open the lid, braced for the sight of the boy's body inside. Praying to Gods he didn't believe in, that Rudo wasn't dead.
Thankfully, his body wasn't there, and instead in his place was his favourite black hoodie, but the stupid, animalistic part of Zanka's brain was howling in grief. Where was his omega?! Where was his mate?!
Now there was a pile of unconscious traffickers, beaten to a bloody pulp, scattered across the floor of the warehouse. Zanka didn't even remember breaking their bones, nor spreading carnage across the walls.
They weren't dead, yet.
Zanka felt the desperate, fractured snarl break in his throat, his eyes still wild and feral, his growling becoming scarily deep and vicious as he cradled his now unbound mate to his chest as he stared at the other Cleaners as they tried to approach them in an attempt to calm him down and apply first-aid.
It wasn't until his little mate raised his head and brought his mouth to Zanka's jaw and bit down, not hard, just enough pressure for the alpha to snap out of the haze of rage that had overcome him.
Zanka's snarls die in his throat.
It takes an embarrassingly long time for Zanka to come back to himself after that. He remembers bundling Rudo into his arms and following an unamused Riyo back to Enjin's jeep. One hand wrapped securely around Rudo's waist while the other went to the omega's shoulder to keep pressure on the vicious-looking claw marks that marred the boy's pale skin.
The next time he comes across Jabber, he's gonna kill him.
It took a while for Rudo to wriggle out of his alpha's arms once they were safely back in the HQ. Though he didn't get far as they settled into Zanka's room for the night. Letting Enjin debrief everyone on the clusterfuck of what happened on their mission.
He had wandered over to the bathroom to clean the blood off of him and change his clothes, all with Zanka hot on his heels, watching his every move.
The sweet metallic tang of blood filled his nose and clung to the back of his throat, and it's disgusting enough to make Rudo gag.
If the smell and taste is this strong to him, dealing only with the suffocating clog of a bloody nose, he can't imagine what it's like for Zanka, who has to filter in not only the blood that is dripping all down the front of Rudo's thin under-shirt from his face, but the scent from Jabbers claw marks on his shoulder where he'd slashed him with a mild-sedative before the traffickers had taken him.
“I must smell so bad,” Rudo says, unsteadily. He sits down hard on the edge of the countertop of Zanka's bathroom, his legs a little wobbly.
Zanka doesn't say anything, going through the storage cupboard for washclothes and towels, antiseptic and healing balms. Rudo can't tell if he's angry or worried or hungry or whatever; all the emotions he feels through their bond are jumbled and chaotic. He's honestly too tired and sore to really care if he's going to get lectured on the relative virtues of avoiding fighting the Raiders and their wickedly sharp alpha claws when they're finished patching him back together into a workable condition.
They could have asked Eishia, but they both know Zanka can heal him in his own way.
Rudo reaches for the tissues next to him and unceremoniously blows a glob of coagulated blood out of one nostril and then the other. His nose was still tender from where one of the traffickers had punched him.
“Eww,” Zanka says mildly, dark blue eyes lingering on the bloody tissues.
“I can't help it, okay,” Rudo complains, dropping the tissues into the trash after taking a moment to admire the crimson splatter. “And now I can breathe, so I'm sorry if I'm offending your little vampire senses.”
This feels right, the bickering.
Rudo begins the daunting task of taking his uniform off before realising that he needs help to do so. “Can you help me get these off?” he indicates to his clothes.
Zanka sets the first aid supplies he's found down on the counter, turning back towards Rudo. It's unfair that his wounds have already closed up; there are four long claw marks raked over the length of his upper chest, below his clavicle, but the skin beneath the bloodied tear in his shirt is pink and whole again, where's Rudo's, well – the jagged tear into his skin is still bleeding sluggishly – his half-vampire blood and omega healing abilities trying their best to knit the skin together – and his chest feels like one huge bruise, throbbing cheerfully to the beat of his pulse.
“Hold still,” Zanka says, blue eyes still glowing with an eerie light because the older teen is still high on adrenaline, and Rudo thinks that he might still be a teeny, tiny bit feral. The alpha also has no manners nor shame when it comes to Rudo.
Zanka grabs a hold of Rudo's thin vest, pulls it away from his body, jams his long black claws into it, and slices it open from hem to collar.
“You're lucky that vest was already beyond ruined,” Rudo says half-heartedly, narrowing his scarlet eyes at him. “Or August and I would've been having words with you.”
Zanka snorts in faint amusement, before the predicted scolding Rudo knew was coming begins. However, despite Zanka's harsh words about keeping his guard up out on the field, the hands that slip themselves under Rudo's torn vest to push the remains of the fabric off are incredibly gentle, and he shuffles closer with a clean cloth and antiseptic in hand.
Rudo distracts himself from the pain of the antibacterial gel being rubbed into his injuries by tracing his fingers over Zanka's chest. The elder freezes under his touch, “Rudo, are ya even listenin' to me?” he says raggedly, nostrils flaring on the crest of a deep breath.
Rudo tilts his head back to look at the other and watches in fascination as Zanka's deep blue eyes dilate, eclipsing the wild look in his eyes. He watches as the other steps closer, right between Rudo's thighs, his skin radiating heat like a blast furnace, and Rudo automatically settles both hands on his hips for balance.
Closing his eyes, Rudo waits for Zanka to finish bandaging his shoulder, the pain falling to a manageable burn.
For a moment, Zanka's hands linger, tracing the curve of his throat, the dip and hollow of his collarbone, and then he shifts with his body, wholly uncomfortable with the notion of personal space; Zanka seems the happiest when he's the focal point of Rudo's senses, single-mindedly driving out all other distractions in any possible way; which usually entails him teasing the younger boy to the point of insanity.
However, this time seems different from the others, and Rudo ponders this while he feels something brush the top of his head, softly ruffling his hair, like Zanka is – like he's breathing in and out –
“Zanka, are you scenting me?” Rudo asks with amusement colouring his voice. He opens his eyes and is treated to the ever-welcoming sight of Zanka's muscular chest. The older vampire smells like the metallic scent of copper-blood, green tea and something distinctively musky.
“No,” Zanka lies, his hand curling around the back of Rudo's head, cupping his skull protectively as he drops his head onto Rudo's shoulder and lets out a long-drawn-out sigh.
“Liar,” Rudo grins, leaning into Zanka's embrace. “I should shower,” he mumbles against Zanka's ear. “I smell, like really bad.”
“No,” Zanka groans, “You actually smell really, really good. You smell alive. I like it when you smell like this. Your heart pounding like a drumbeat against my fingers, rich with all your hot, sweet blood.” Another deep breath, “It's one of my favourite scents.”
Rudo sucks in a shaky breath, cheeks flushing and head swimming. He tangles his fingers in Zanka's hair, pressing closer until the alpha's hips are snug between his spread legs.
Zanka's wild eyes stare at him for a long moment before he seals their mouths together, licking into his mouth like he's tasting Rudo's heart, lungs and soul.
For several charged, breathless seconds, there's no space between them, the heat almost unbearable, Rudo is drowning in hard flesh and hard muscle and the rich, heady scent of rich blood and salty exertion.
Zanka wraps one arm around Rudo's back, and the other goes around his shoulders. “Legs around my waist.” He commands.
Rudo rolls his eyes, “Zan, we're still covered in blood. We'll get the sheets dirty.” He protests half-heartedly, but he obeys his alpha's command, locking his ankles as Zanka stands with him, clinging to him effortlessly. The display of strength has his spine tingling.
Zanka doesn't say anything as he carries him over to the bed, stopping at the foot of it. He bends to lay Rudo out on his back. His eyes are blazing, bleeding alpha scarlet, fixed on Rudo like he wants to consume him as he climbs onto the cot and straddles Rudo's hips.
“Oh my,” Rudo jokingly whispers, trapped in the tidal pull of his alpha's gaze. “What big eyes you have.”
Zanka chuckles, and the deep rumble sends shivers racing across Rudo's skin. His large hands sweep up Rudo's sides, fingers brushing soothingly over sensitive, bruised skin. The pad of his thumb catches on one nipple, and Rudo hisses, hips bucking up instinctively.
Then, because his alpha loves to tease him, Zanka does it again, chasing the stroke of his fingers with his teeth.
“Oh,” Rudo whimpers, his body bowing up to meet Zanka's. The weight of him is like a balm; hard, heavy pressure that pins Rudo down securely to the mattress, cages him in and surrounds him with warmth and feral protectiveness.
Zanka's thigh insinuates itself back between Rudo's legs, and he gives into the flood of arousal that suffuses his aching limbs and rut shamelessly into him. Zanka buries his face into the crook of Rudo's uninjured shoulder, nose pressed to the unbroken skin of his throat, snuffing hotly.
“You are definitely scenting me now,” Rudo says, arms coming up around Zanka's shoulders, scratching lightly into the bare skin. “You are obsessed with scenting me.”
“I wanna fuck ya,” Zanka growls out instead of commenting on his little scenting habit, sucking one of Rudo's earlobes between his teeth and worrying at it gently with his teeth. The wave of heat from Zanka's mouth sends a shiver down Rudo's spine, pooling tightly in his belly, and his cunt is extremely interested in this situation as it drools slick into his underwear despite the weighty ache in his bones and muscles.
“You just wanna add your own bruises,” Rudo complains lightly.
“No. I just wanna feel ya,” Zanka's teeth dig bluntly into the meat of his shoulder, making Rudo squirm and pant. “I want yah to feel me.”
And Rudo gets it, okay, he does. He doesn't need to be an overprotective alpha to feel how Zanka is simmering in fiery licks of hurt and worry and feral protectiveness.
It's in the spread of his hand over Rudo's small chest, palming over his thumping heartbeat, and the tickle of his nose as he scents Rudo's pulse, tucked into the soft hollow of his throat, and in the way he's letting out his own pheromones that saturate the entire room with his alpha scent, trying with all his might to comfort the omega beneath him.
Zanka is overloaded with the frantic buzz of his own senses, tuned into the only frequency that matters right now, which is his beloved omega, Rudo. His tongue glides up Rudo's sternum. He doesn't seem inclined to stop the agitated drumming of his fingers as his mind thinks back to Rudo being snatched away from him.
“Zanka, hey. Come back to me, Alpha. Please.” Rudo calls softly, shifting his hips minutely and grinding into the 'V' of his alpha's legs.
Zanka grunts in surprise at the rough friction, a soft choked sound that Rudo rears up to swallow. He thinks he might need to roll the other over and get the ball rolling in terms of getting them both naked, but Zanka flattens him to the bed with a heavy forearm across his chest before he can attempt to move them.
“You are going to stay right there,” Zanka says evenly. “And you're going to let me take care of you.” Then he hits Rudo with that expression that usually means that Rudo should obey him, or face the consequences, and then he slides right off the bed to kneel between Rudo's legs, and he has about thirty seconds to formulate a response before his trousers and underwear get stripped off his body.
He manages half a syllable, which Zanka rudely interrupts by nosing at the damp curls of his mound, so Rudo gives up on defiance altogether.
What the hell is the point anyway?
It's clear that Zanka is fully engaged in the admirable effort in short-circuiting Rudo's brain with the heady application of primal sex and his furious concentration, and won't be swayed anytime soon.
“You're supposed to use your mouth,” Rudo can't help but sass like a brat, swinging his legs up to hook them around Zanka's neck and burying his hands into his soft dark hair and giving it a sharp, pointed tug. “Not your nose.”
Zanka huffs a near-soundless laugh, but Rudo knows it's a laugh because he feels it, a puff of air hitting the sensitive lips of his pussy, and making him flush hot all the way down to his toes.
He twitches, bucking forward hopefully, but Zanka just untangles himself from the knobbly web of Rudo's legs and goes to remove the heavy boots from his feet.
Whining in helpless frustration, Rudo stays where Zanka put him, sprawled halfway onto the bed. The limits of Zanka's patience reaching much further than Rudo's, he's pretty sure Zanka could nuzzle at him all damn day with a hard-on bobbing between his legs while Rudo simultaneously dies a slow death from sexual frustration.
When Zanka comes back, he pauses to shuck off his own clothes before climbing back onto the bed, where he performs a thorough examination of the semi-healed bruises littering Rudo's torso, tracing the lines with his tongue until Rudo is trembling and the slick is pouring out of him at an alarming rate. Then he hooks an arm around Rudo's waist and rearranges him further up the mattress, spreading his legs and settling between them.
“Hey,” Rudo croaks, looking at Zanka through his thick lashes. He's framed in twilight, a smooth expanse of pale skin and slight muscle. His wild, ashen-white locks of hair are mussed, eyebrows knitted attentively, and the line of his supple mouth is soft as he tilts his head up towards Zanka.
“Hey,” Zanka parrots back softly, curling his hand around Rudo's thigh, thumb rubbing at the tender skin where his leg meets his torso. “I'm gonna start by fingerin' yah until yer sobbing. Then I'm gonna fuck ya so slowly, you'll be beggin' me to let yah come, to make yah come.”
Rudo makes an involuntary noise, something deeply pathetic that's caught between a whine and a gasp. His lungs feel tight, and he's frozen in place, laid out like a feast, while Zanka gazes at him so calmly that he could matter-of-factly read out loud the latest newspaper.
Zanka hums a soft sound, and his hand moves from where it was caressing his thigh to rub gently at his vulva in tiny circular motions that make Rudo shiver softly.
He's ready to be taken apart, he's ready to have this entire mess of a night fucked right out of him. Now, if only Zanka would get with the programme instead of sitting there devouring him with his dark eyes.
“Come on,” he says, breath hitching in his lungs when Zanka finally slips a finger just a little further, sliding through the gathered slick to his hole and rubbing there, soft and teasing, before a flood of slick flows from Rudo's entrance.
His hips roll a little, totally without permission at all from his brain, and Zanka full on chuckles before finally encasing his fingers in the sweet omegan slick.
Zanka is kind of a master at fingering. He's a finger fucking boss. He can make Rudo cum on just his fingers without even breaking a sweat. It's ridiculously hot. And it's only when Zanka sinks two slick fingers into him right up to the third knuckle, crooking them for the right angle and pressing them against his tender g-spot, does Rudo finally relax, letting out a deep sigh, and drawing his legs up.
It's a leisurely rhythm, designed to drive Rudo right to the edge and keep him there, squirming and begging and twisting his hips for leverage he couldn't get; as he said, Zanka is a patient motherfucker when he wants to be. Screw nuzzling, Zanka would probably just finger Rudo open all day, given the opportunity.
In fact, it kind of feels like he does, because eventually he's on four fingers, the sounds of his hand thrusting in and out of Rudo is a repeated, obscene squelch of noise as Rudo shudders and tosses his head to expose the long line of his neck for Zanka to suck and bite all over.
Rudo is close, sweat-soaked and shuddering, having come to terms a while ago with the sounds he makes during this kind of thing. Now, though, he loses all knowledge of how to arrange syllables into intelligible words and is reduced to long, drawn-out vowels and whimpers.
“I am going to die,” he groans, the effort of assembling a sentence almost too much to bear. “I'm – g-gonna – oh - please, alpha – “
Zanka just smiles into his skin, his mouth currently attached by some impressive suction to Rudo's clavicle, and then he speeds up the jackhammer press of his fingers until Rudo is keening wordlessly, arching up while his cunt twitches around slender fingers and a flood of slick gushes out of him.
It's a long time before the world returns to technicolour.
When he comes round, Zanka is on top of him, a heavy, comforting weight, slotted into that perfect space between Rudo's legs like the missing pieces of a puzzle. He's waiting for Rudo to come back to him, hands cupping his face, thumbs brushing his lips, cheeks, the curve of his brow. His alpha is also murmuring to him, but Rudo, even with his excellent hearing, can't even translate sounds into words right now.
Instead, Rudo wraps his legs around Zanka's hips, nudging the head of Zanka's cock snug against the slick stretch of his hole.
Zanka makes a soft, needy noise and buries his face into Rudo's shoulder, fucking into him with short little stabs of his hips, like he can't fully control his desire to nail Rudo right into the mattress.
Rudo digs his fingernails into the ridge of Zanka's spine, whispering, “That's it, that's right, do it, alpha, fuck me. I want to feel you inside me. I want your knot inside me, I want you to fill me up – please – let me. I want it.”
“Rudo - “ Zanka chokes, his voice muffled, “You can have it.”
They're both filthy to the point of genuinely sliding against each other, but each hard roll of Zanka's hips jars Rudo right down to his core, his bruises pulsing with the jack-rabbit stagger of his heartbeat, and it's so, so perfect.
Despite his mind being literally fucked out of him, Rudo's nose twitches as he catches the scent of his alpha's blood. Zanka had raised his hand and, with a sharp claw, cut a shallow wound into his neck, just below his jaw.
His blood flows freely down his neck.
Rudo lets out a needy whine and immediately covers the wound with his warm, wet mouth, his own teeth aching with the need to bite down. He moans in ecstasy at the taste of his alpha's blood as it coats his tongue and slides down his throat. Another cry leaves him when moments later he feels the familiar sting of teeth biting into the side of his neck.
Zanka moans in delight at the taste of his omega. His blood was just as sweet as the boy beneath him, tasting like cherries dripped in the sweetest honeyed nectar, sugary and iron-rich.
So incredibly different from human blood, and Zanka isn't sure if the difference was because of Rudo's own noble vampire blood running through his veins, or if it was the fact that he was Zanka's mate; either way, he didn't care.
When Zanka knots him and cums deep inside his omega's womb, it's with a low, wounded moan, tension releasing from the broad slope of his back, he hears Rudo cry out his own release as his slick gushes all over his cock.
A few moments pass with Zanka tenderly pressing his lips to any inch of skin he can reach, and Rudo sighs in his arms. He can feel his mate's pure vampire blood healing him, but he still feels tender. He's going to be so fucking sore in the morning, but all of this, everything, was worth it.
"Thank you for finding me, Zanka," Rudo whispers against his mates lips sleepily.
"I'll always find you," Zanka whispered, as he cupped Rudo's face between his hands and kissed him deeply and oh so sweetly as they drifted off to sleep.
The little omega is safe and sound in Zanka's arms.
-fin-