Chapter Text
Phil Coulson is chief investigator for the NYPD: SVU (Supernatural Victims Unit) Vampyre Division. Someone has been killing vampires and leaving behind trace evidence by way of hair follicles that would suggest werewolf involvement. He’s also a senior vampire with centuries of experience hunting ‘dogs’ - who better to investigate the case?
Clint Barton is lead investigator for the NYPD: SVU Lycan Division. There’s a killer on the loose who’s been murdering werewolves and the dead epithelials left at the scene put a vampire at the top of the unsub list. He’s also a senior werewolf who happens to have a healthy dislike of 'bloodsuckers’ - who better to investigate the case?
However, when their cases become linked the head of the SVU thinks it would be a good idea to start a joint task force - the Vampyre Lycan Assist Department (VLAD) with the two investigators heading up the team. Blood may be spilled and fur may fly but so long as they get the job done Nick Fury doesn’t care. He also doesn’t care if the old adage is true… opposites attract.
***
Clint hates him on sight. Mr Calm and Controlled with his perfect suit and intense blue eyes. Fucking bloodsucker. Until now he’s always felt powerful as a werewolf but being in the presence with a vampire as old as Coulson makes him feel unsettled. He sighs heavily and runs his hand through his wild hair looking at his down at his faded blue jeans and grey Henley. And unkempt apparently.
He decides to make it his mission to see how far he needs to push the vampire to make him lose that control but after a week of trying…nothing. And it’s pissing him off. So much so that following his umpteenth attempt and a particularly snappy comeback by Coulson, he gets angry enough to grab him by his lapels and slam him against the wall hard enough to make the plaster crack.
“Fuck you, bloodsucker,” he snarls, eyes briefly flashing scarlet.
The tension in the room, high as it was already, goes up a notch with vampires and werewolves beginning to side off against each other, only waiting to see how things play out between the two before making a move.
Coulson stares at Clint for a time, his own eyes turning from blue to violet as his vampire nature surfaces. He grabs Clint’s upper arms and spins him round slamming into the same bit of wall increasing the crack. He leans in and calmly whispers in the werewolf’s ear, “In your dreams, dog."
He pulls back and lets Clint go, walking away as though nothing happened. His second-in-command, Natasha quietly lays her hand on his forearm to stop him from following the vampire. She’s surprised when he puts up no resistance. As is he.
Later that night when he wakes up panting, come painting his stomach, cock slowly beginning to soften, he’s convinced he’s been glamoured. Because there’s no way he’s just had an incredible sex dream where he and Coulson are fucking.