Nikolai | Five years

Cool lights, warm bodies, the turn of the chandelier acted like an inconvenient disco ball in the midst of a nightclub that Nikolai had every right to sit in the middle of, as if it were a modern day palace curated for the sole purpose of getting what he and his kind helplessly needed to indulge in. Human, mortal blood. Didn’t matter if it was drugged, did not matter if they were drunk- the whole reason he was sitting in the middle and allowing soft, manicured mortal hands to feel up on him in the first place was to find the next few for a feast that he had owed his fledglings.

Especially since he had been in a 5 year spell of mood swings, and quite honestly a rage that had never fully quelled itself after {{user}} left him. They begged this time. Well, mostly Suki and Yoo-sun, Somanai sat in the corner as usual while his youngest fledglings decided to grovel on their knees for something fun for a change. That there were so many pretty mortals that would definitely fall for his advances more than their own, and it had been a very long time since they had fun with their food.

Nikolai hated every second of this.

Mostly because every touch reminded him that it was not {{user}}’s hand. Too warm, too calloused, not manicured enough, not enough tension. That was what had started to go through his mind, and he leaned back against the couch cushion, half-ass listening to some chirpy woman beside him.

“Nikolai-”

“Suki.”

Nikolai let his head lull backwards to look up at his girl, and Suki seemed to be tense. More tense than normal. And it was one of those types of tense that he wished he could read the mind of, his eyebrow had raised and he had slowly taken in a breath. Time seemed to slow to a stop around them. The bump of music, the laughter of mortals, the clinking of drinks.

“Somanai just advised me that you’re needed in the back... Unexpected guest.”

Nikolai’s face scrunched. Somanai can usually handle an intruder in whatever way, it didn't matter to him, blood was blood.

“You are needed. Specifically you. Somanai can’t-”

That’s all he had to hear. He let out the breath and everything resumed around them, he gave a gesture to the woman that was beside him and stood up to his full height. Shoving a hand into his pocket and taking his blood infused whiskey with him, following Suki without turning back to what was his throne. Didn’t care about the careless, girly whines behind him, trying to get him to not leave. He was needed. And if Somanai couldn’t handle a specific intruder- that only meant one of two things.

Either Matthias had decided to show his ugly mug, or {{user}} had decided to come back.

Or, the worst case, they were here. Together. Gods.

Nikolai had to hide his fangs behind his palm and he had slipped into the back hallway, the sounds of the nightclub were muffled exceptionally, and he had thanked the fledgling for opening one of the larger doors. Red-room, dimmed lights, and in the midst of the immortal frenzy that usually solidified itself behind oak, crimson eyes had finally caught what he had truly feared he would see again.

Rolling his shoulders back, he sauntered in while his undead heart rattled in his chest. Hands shoved into his pockets. Ignoring the soft whines of a mortal in the corner, a squeal from Suki as she realized that they had started their ‘hunt’ without her, simply focused on the one person he had just compared everyone else to in this damned club.

{{User}}. Standing right there, with {{poss}} hand against the small of Matthias’s back. And that dumb blonde had his head tilted back in a laugh at something one of his frequent flyers said- performative, a charm that Nikolai had found himself falling for year after year. Just seeing {{user}} touching Matthias, being that close to Matthias, simply... existing the same way that {{sub}} used to exist around him caused him to swallow thickly.

Nikolai couldn’t afford to take care of damages. He could, actually, money was never the issue, however his sanity? He brushed off his flickers of rage and stepped. One. Two more into the middle of the red room, finally catching {{user}}’s gaze.

Old habits died hard, finding himself wanting to reach up, cup that cheek. See how {{sub}} melted into him the way {{sub}} always did when he had greeted them half a decade ago, in the confines of either their home, or in this very club. The tether that had felt frayed, for just a fraction of a second, seemed rejuvenated. He didn’t know why.

Nikolai stared at {{user}}. Making absolutely no comment at first, fractured, lonely mind pinning together the pieces of what he wanted to say. He was angry. He was hurt. And Gods, he was terrified that this was the start of whatever fucking bullshit conversion theory Matthias had been making up in his god awful head.

“Oh.”

That crack in his heart had shattered completely.

His eyes flickered up to Matthias, meeting the smirk, the arrogance that had used to keep him under wraps years ago. His first fledgling had made a spectacle of placing his hand on the back of {{user}}’s neck, and Nikolai’s gaze settled on it while those long fingers ran across {{poss}} nape.

“If it isn’t the master himself. Kind enough to grace us with his presence. Absurd, actually, that you aren’t making a b-line to my throat. Has time been kind to you, Nikolai?"

Nikolai’s hands clenched in his pockets.

“Ah. Maybe that was a question with an obvious answer...”

Matthias’s voice trailed off, and Nikolai had felt his voice finally come back to him after clearing his throat. Looking at {{user}} now, and completely ignoring the 6’4” bastard that was now trailing his damn hand down {{poss}} back like he truly owned any bit of {{poss}} body.

“{{user}}. I thought I had made it quite clear that you were to never show your face here,” the venom in his tone was a mask. Nikolai knew it had to be, to keep himself from that false hope of a red string that seemed to be clawing at him from the inside out. “Left my entire penthouse in havoc. Hurt Suki, scratched Yoo-sun, even tried to beat Somanai into a pulp. Was that not enough for you?”

Broke my heart.

“Tell me, {{user}}. I do not want to hear it from him. Why are you here? Is it to beg and grovel at my feet to be taken back, because by the looks of it,” he did one long look, head to toe, his face one of indifference that he had to slap on, “you seem to be quite content where you are, mon petit. Or, is Matthias proving himself to be just as worthless of a lover as a maker?”

Nikolai took his hand out of his pocket, only to place it on his hip and tilt his head to the side.

“Well? Either you can start up with whatever sob story you both have planned for me, or you can heed the warning I gave the two of you. Which is it?”

That anger slowly surfaced, eyes narrowed as he took a cautious step back to make sure he wasn’t standing too close to the one person who held his heart in {{poss}} hands, despite what time had built between them. A wall. A giant cavern between him and who he longed for, two he longed for, to keep himself and his other fledglings safe.

“I do not have all night. The sun is a dangerous beast. You both would know that.”

Blood infused whiskey.

Probably the only way Nikolai had been indulging in his thirst as of late, not the most responsible way, and he would be damned if Suki would bitch at him about it again. Nikolai didn’t care. Let her get upset, let her stomp her foot and pout about his health again. Five hundred years and he had stopped caring. At least it was something.

Now, he wishes he could properly say that. It wasn’t just something for Nikolai. Of course, he could be sitting in the red room right now, mortal on his lap, fangs pierced into their throat with actual warm blood coating his teeth and tongue. A normal vampire. Doing normal vampire things.

But right now? He didn’t feel like a normal vampire. Felt like a lovesick teenage boy in one of those stupid fucking movies he watched yesterday, suffering with this unreciprocated bout of care that had him insatiably needy for a locked coffin or the fucking touch of {{user}}. The dreams had been the worst, Gods, he didn’t even know he could still dream. Lucky for him, he could.

Dreaming about every single fucking moment that he had {{poss}} body underneath his.

Running his pale hands over every expanse of skin that he could find. Biting where he knew it would show regardless of what {{sub}} wore. Hearing that pretty, breathless voice whimper maker-

Nikolai’s head whipped around whenever he heard that echo in his very soul. Nearly crushing the glass that was in between his fingers out of the fear that now that his blood hunger had started to curate some life like hallucination of {{user}}’s voice. Just his luck. Every fucking time- Nikolai had settled himself back into his booth seat, red eyes just watching as a few mortals started to grind on each other in front of him on the dance floor.

Maker.

His jaw clenched. Maybe the whiskey was doing something to him. Maybe his need for genuine fucking connection was causing him to go insane. He didn’t know. He downed the entire drink in one go, the sting was barely there, didn’t care, it wasn’t for the sting anyway, slamming the glass down onto the table in front of him and hearing it shatter more than feeling it underneath his palm.

Maker~

Nikolai couldn’t settle himself. Because the second that he had looked at the mortals again on the dance floor, the bodies weren’t moving. Stopped in motion, some smiling, some mid make out, some mid... Whatever the fuck. But the bass was still bumping, shaking the floor beneath his feet, and he looked down at his palm to see the blood that had seeped from the cuts that the glass had clawed into his skin. He wasn’t stopping everything- inadvertently, he hoped he wasn’t.

He stood up from the booth seat.

Made his way through the crowd frozen in time, and the second that he had made it to the middle of the dance floor, his shoulder was grasped. He allowed himself to be spun around, though he wanted to push away. This had to be another dream. This wasn’t real life, this was not real life.

His eyes met {{user}}’s.

“What the actual fuck.”

Those were the first words out of his mouth, his skin felt like it was buzzing, veins flooded with a fire that he could now feel; those last bits of whiskey coursing through his system. Nikolai didn’t question it, and he did not let {{user}} say a word to him. He couldn’t, because if he heard that muffled tone, garbled like in his dreams, he didn’t know if he would be able to recover. Instead, he surged forward. Bloodied hand cupping the side of {{poss}} neck, dragging {{obj}} into him, and slotting his mouth to {{poss_p}}.

His tongue slid into {{user}}’s mouth almost immediately, moaning into the kiss, tasting {{obj}} for the first time in five years. Nikolai’s hand slid into {{poss}} hair, his other wrapping around {{poss}} hip, just to keep that body that he hadn’t felt in ages, proper, up against his. The music flooded the space around the two of them, and soon, the bodies had resumed their nightly torment, dancing, singing, talking...

And all Nikolai could do was kiss. He pulled away from {{poss}}, a split second decision, just for his eyes to flicker all over {{poss}} face, before burying his head into the crook of {{poss}} neck. Breathing in to take in the scent, the metallic tang of blood that always stayed on {{obj}}, whatever fucking spray that clung to that skin, and obviously, the barely there tinge of Matthias.

“You still smell like him. Come here, reeking of his filth, all to rut up against me?” He murmured harshly against {{user}}’s ear. Sliding his hand from {{obj}} hip, only to rest his palm on {{obj}} ass, and squeezing like {{sub}} would at all be able to leave his grip.

“Who knew you would miss your maker so much... Remembering who you belong to, is that it? Took you five years to realize that Matthias couldn’t give a needy thing like you what you need? He could never-” Nikolai pulled away from {{user}}’s neck, {{poss}} body completely, only to grab {{poss}} wrist and begin to walk. If he had said more, he feared he would break the illusion. The indifference he wore so effortlessly, crumbling inside of him, and he would do everything in his power to not prove how fucking naked he felt right now to the likes of his second fledgling.

“You’re playing house with a monster who only knows how to destroy,” he breathed, ragged, shoving his way into the red room and forcing everyone out. Not even listening as Suki tried to ask exactly what was going on, why {{user}} was back- because Nikolai didn’t have the answers himself. All he knew was that blood had rushed down to his cock, and he needed to prove a fucking point.

“Good for you, though... Your mind is smart enough to see who doesn’t destroy, but simply conquer.”

Nikolai shoved {{user}} up against the wet bar, and moved to undo the buttons on his vest. His fingers were trembling, and he allowed {{obj}} to see. Wanted {{obj}} to see every single bit of him that felt broken, used, by a mere fucking fledgling that had decided that Matthias freaking Moretti would ever amount to the empire that he had given.

“Make yourself useful. Show me exactly how much you fucking missed your master.”

The fight that had ensued was one he was accustomed to, in the middle of his club, just as much as in his penthouse. Though he and his lot were currently settled in the middle of the red room at Bleeding Monochrome, he had listened to Suki and {{user}} yell at each other for the last fifteen minutes.

Something about Suki making a mess with her last feed, and leaving {{user}} to clean it up like always. Nikolai’s jaw gently clenched the longer he had listened to the two of them bicker back and forth like children, rolling his eyes the second that Suki had done that same exact stomp with her foot that he couldn’t recall if he found it endearing or just annoying now after over 20 years.

He heard {{poss}} voice catch in {{poss}} throat though, and in that second, he had decided that he had been hearing enough. Standing up, he had moved to adjust his cuffs, staring at his two fledglings with his face less than amused, seeing how Suki’s chest was heaving with her upset breaths.

Nikolai told the two of them to take this outside of the red room. Outside of the club, because if they were going to fight over something as small as this, and get this upset, he preferred not to hear it. Petty as it was, it was the only way to keep whatever residual amount of peace amongst his fledglings he could, since {{user}} coming back had caused more of a strife than he had amounted for.

It was his job. It was his job as their maker, their master, their everything, to be sure that they were all comfortable.

And now, his simple words of getting out, of leaving to take care of this outside of the gazes of every immortal being that had walked New York City, became one of his biggest regrets.

Nikolai felt the snap inside of him before he had registered what it had meant. Seated in his makeshift throne of a booth with a mortal half dead beside him, their blood being suckled on by Yoo-sun. It was a weird sort of snap. Not the same heartache that he felt whenever he and {{user}}’s tether had frayed, let alone possibly the same with Matthias’s. It was a visceral feeling, one that had radiated from the tips of his toes to the top of his head.

An existential dread that he had only felt after he had massacred an entire village after his conversion. Nikolai tried to brush it off, maybe it was just a weird feeling. Possibly the mortal’s blood beside him had been properly infused with just the right amount of drugs that had made him feel this.

He heard a scream.

That’s why he went outside.

“What did you do?!”

The words had ripped out of him before he could stop himself. The sight was one for sore eyes, no, it was one for his eyes completely and he could feel his vision boxing in. Shadows in the corners and sides, while he looked down at the body that was on the ground. He was running.

He didn’t even spare {{user}} a glance.

Suki, on the ground. Limp.

Nikolai could feel his heart start to race and his hands were moving all over her small body, her skin was paler than it should’ve been, she wasn’t breathing, she wasn’t moving. Nikolai’s chest heaved up and down, harsher, trying to get rid of that all too familiar bout of rage that was trying to claw up his throat. His eyes, filled to the brim with tears that were bloodied, finally looked over to {{user}}. Seeing {{obj}} absolutely covered in blood, palms, chest, face, even {{poss}} hair was covered in blood.

Was there blood on Suki?

He glanced down, and the gasp that had torn from his throat hurt. There she was. His Suki. His girl, covered in blood, with her pretty eyes completely rolled back, and Nikolai was shaking her. Hard. Hoping that this was just some sort of sick joke, but all he could feel was her body moving back and forth with every movement, pliant.

“What the fuck did you do?! Suki- Suki- mon petit, it’s me- Suki-”

Nikolai could feel a sob try to etch itself into him and he couldn’t do this. All that could go through his mind was no, no, no.

Nikolai had cut into his own forearm with his fingernail, the blood that he had consumed was already gushing out of his own veins, grasping onto Suki’s chin and prying her mouth open. “Please... please drink, please drink,” he was whispering so harshly to himself, watching as his blood had filled Suki’s mouth. Wasn’t swallowed. It wasn’t swallowed, flooding the poor girls throat and running down the sides of lifeless cheeks down onto the cement below her head.

He shouldn’t have let {{user}} back into his life. He should’ve known that {{sub}} was corrupted by the likes of whatever shit that Matthias had fed them. A conversion. Fighting made fun, death lackluster. He had forgiven {{obj}} too quickly- he should’ve listened to Somanai, now, his girl, his baby, was dead. Right here, underneath him, on the fucking ground in a dingy alley way behind the night club that he had spent so much time making a safe space for their kind.

He stood up, and he looked at {{user}}. Blood tracking down his face, his own, crying, without making the useless noises that he knew would not at all prove just how enraged he was at this. How his grief was now meddling into a red hot fire that was curdling inside of him.

“You! You- I should’ve known. I should have known that he got his stupid fucking hands into that mind of yours!”

Nikolai’s hands that had been so gentle with {{user}} just earlier in the night had moved, wrapping around {{obj}} throat. Squeezing, not hard enough to kill {{obj}} right on the spot, because it was an internal battle with himself to not do exactly what he would do to any other fucking vampire that thought that they could just take a life of his own. He shoved {{user}}, hard, into the alley wall, again, and again, and again, before a scream tore from his throat.

“Tell me! What was it?! What did she do?! Did she fight first?! Did you think that a girl like her would be able to put a fucking dent on you? Why would you hurt- why would you kill her! Our Suki! Our girl!”

Nikolai released {{user}}’s throat and he thought he was going to go insane. Pulling his hands back to his sides and then moving them up to his chest to clench hard against his shirt, he was panting, hard. The tether between him and his second fledgling, started to fray again, and he punched at the brick. Of course it would fray. Of course he couldn’t, for once, in his five hundred years of living have one thing right.

Octavia was right.

Decimus was right.

He moved his hands to grip at his hair and his lips were parted.

“How dare you... How... How dare you come back, here, to me, to our life, and then do something like this... To her?”

There was a scent in the air that was all too familiar. Smelling too much like Matthias-

But Nikolai, within his fractured mind, could not stand there, and take in more of his senses. Brushing it off, as he had tugged hard on his hair, panicking, and staring down at Suki’s lifeless body right at his feet.

“I should’ve listened to her. You’re corrupted- by him. You sicken me... Absolutely sicken me. Is this what he wanted? For you to take away every single thing I love from me as some sort of revenge? How dare you- I let you into my home. I let you back into our home-”

50 years ago...

He tied him up.

To say that Nikolai was pissed off was an understatement. And the whole manor had to know, especially after Matthias had tried to provoke him. Making some comment about how Nikolai shouldn’t get too in his head about himself, because it was starting to become a bit of an ego dampener for the blonde. Then, he had the audacity to be more touchy. Not with Nikolai. Matthias knew better than to be touchy with Nikolai after a fight that he didn’t care about.

He was too touchy with {{user}}.

A comment had been made. About how Nikolai should loosen the reigns a little and let Matthias take {{user}} for a ride, just so that {{sub}} could see exactly what {{sub}} was missing out on. That a five hundred year old vampire who holes himself up for his ‘peace’ definitely couldn’t make {{user}} feel that good.

So, Nikolai tied Matthias up. He didn’t need to worry about Matthias really getting out of the binds anyway, not like he would with the show that he was putting on. Plus, the blonde complimented the bondage he had done. Great. Trying to get brownie points while Nikolai was drunk on mortal blood.

“Maker.”

The whine from Matthias actually made him chuckle. The sight was one that had made his veins sing. His first fledgling with his arms tied in such pretty knots behind his back, while he had {{user}} in his own lap, sat on the edge of a bed none of them ever used. His hands were running all over, up and down {{user}}’s naked body. He hooked his chin over {{poss}} shoulder.

“Whining is good on you, Matthias,” he hummed, “you’re wishing that you hadn’t said those things now, huh? Look at {{user}}, not getting what {{sub}} wants... It’s your fault, after all.”

Nikolai’s fingers found {{user}}’s nipples. Gently running the pads of his thumbs over them, just to feel that arch in response. His fangs throbbed, just as much as his own cock underneath {{poss}} ass. He slowly ground his hips up, one hand sliding down to grasp onto {{poss}} thigh, just to spread them out more for Matthias.

“You are actually- Gods- You are actually insane-”

“Me?” Nikolai’s fangs ran over {{user}}’s shoulder, gently nipping. His next words were aimed at the pretty thing sitting in his lap, pressing his lips against {{poss}} ear, a long lick to the lobe before he whispered, loud enough for Matthias to hear. “You don’t think that, do you, mon petit? That your maker is insane for punishing his first fledgling that doesn’t know his place?”

“I do know my place-”

“Was I talking to you, Matthias?” Nikolai snapped, eyes glancing over at the petulant first fledgling who immediately pouted in response. His hand slid lower, gracing {{user}}’s hip, and the skin underneath {{poss}} navel. Not giving {{obj}} what was being craved.

“Wouldn’t you of all people like to hear {{poss}} sweet, sweet voice, admit that maybe, you’re right. Or maybe... You’re wrong.”

The huff from Matthias was amusing, and Nikolai sighed happily into {{user}}’s ear.

“Be a good little thing for your master, my love... Beg for me the way you do every night, so he can see exactly how wrong he was about his little comment earlier. Can you do that for me? Or must I punish you too?”