Archive of Our Own ^beta

Larry Daley had a protip for anyone thinking about becoming an animal control officer: don't become an animal control officer.

Oh, sure, it was great reuniting lost pets with their owners, and putting animal abusers in jail for as long as the law would hold them (not long enough, in his semi-professional opinion), but then one night what you thought was some sort of freaky german shepherd-siberian husky mix would come along, literally bite you in the ass, and the next thing you know you're sprouting fur and fangs once a month, every month.

Thank God Sacajawea was such a good pack leader. Larry literally didn't know what he would do without her.

“This job will be good for you, Lawrence,” she explained soothingly. “Simple, quiet, mildly territorial. Perfect for a young werewolf like yourself.”

“I'm pretty sure I don't qualify as 'young' in any sense of the word,” Larry grumbled. He'd spent last night running around Central Park on four legs, terrifying joggers and evading cops, and now he was seriously feeling it in his knees. Fuck being thirty-five, seriously.

“A new werewolf, then,” Sacajawea smiled sweetly. “Inexperienced.”

“Inexperienced? Who needed my help figuring out how to fill out tax forms for-”

She handed him his flashlight with a different smile – the Alpha smile that said 'do what I say, or else.' “You'll make a wonderful night guard, Larry. Good luck on your first night.”

Larry's first night at the museum went fine. The second and third nights too. Actually, a full week managed to go by without something going wrong, which was probably a first in Larry's life. He was certain his ex would agree.

He really did find himself enjoying the job. The museum at night was quiet – and “quiet” had taken on a whole new meaning since he found himself able to hear people's heartbeats if he focused hard enough. Shoving pure animal senses into a human body was a real doozy. Plus, there was plenty of time to take a look at all the exhibits and give himself the history education he never availed himself of in college. And having his own territory was – nice. Satisfying. Gratifying, even. Of course his apartment was his, but it was small, even by New York standards. The museum was big, and while it wasn't like a forest in any way, the vast spaces and arches gave him the soothing sense of being master of a realm. The biggest predator in the wood.

One week after he started the job, at about one in the morning, he heard footsteps two floors up, somewhere in the Egyptology wing.

He started moving before he had thought anything through, taking the stairs two at a time with a lightness he had not possessed until the aforementioned werewolf-ing. He slunk through the shadows, feeling a bit ridiculous – it was probably some kid who hid in the bathroom to see the museum after-hours. Or possibly a drug addict. He was fully prepared to call a parent or offer a list of local free clinics as he approached the person.

His first thought was kid when he saw the figure from behind – slender, wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, hood all the way up in a manner that Grown Ups tended to avoid. He flicked on his flashlight. The intruder was staring quietly at the sarcophagus display. It didn't look like anything had been disturbed or stolen, but Larry's hackles (apparently he had those now) still rose at the idea of someone uninvited in his territory.

“Hey, buddy, I don't know how you got in here, but-”

The figure whirled around, and Larry had only a moment to realize he was a really, really ridiculously good looking young guy when the kid fucking hissed at him – and wow, yep, holy shit, those were fangs. Fangs on an actual PERSON, vampire. Vampire vampire vampire! Larry thought as he found himself snarling back. Werewolf instincts did not make good manners.

Without saying a word, the kid dashed to one of the pillars, and moving so quickly he was nearly a blur, shimmied up like some sort of fucking squirrel-gecko and exited out the skylight, which Larry now could see was open.

The whole encounter had taken less than fifteen seconds, and it left Larry panting and breathless, primed with adrenaline.

“Tell me, what did he look like?” Sacajawea asked hours later when Larry had finally gotten off work. Though he spent the rest of the night on double-alertness, nothing else unusual had happened.

“He was, ah, young,” Larry began. The vampire's features had stuck in his mind like a photo, even though he had only seen him for a few seconds. “Young guy. Looked sort of....Arabic, Middle Eastern, I don't know. Dark hair?”

Sacajawea gasped, looking as surprised as Larry had ever seen her. “Ahkmenrah.”

“Ahkmenrah?” Larry rolled the name around in his mouth.

“He's old, Lawrence, very old and powerful.” She fiddled nervously with her braid. “I don't know why he was in the museum or what he aimed to do there, but if you see him again, do not confront him alone. Call the pack immediately.”

“By howling? Barking?”

She frowned at him and fished a cell phone from her purse. “Try this.”

Larry kept an eye and an ear out the next night, on edge. Nothing. But the night after that he was rewarded for his diligence with the sound of the skylight on the third floor creaking open.

He was going to be in so much trouble for not calling Sacajawea, but Larry Daley was not known for making good life choices.

This time, he was only one floor down and he crept quietly to the Egyptian wing, where once again the vampire was staring – this time at a display of clay pots, oddly enough. Not the most exciting display. Although allegedly there were organs in the pots.

“Ahkmenrah?” he said quietly.

The vampire spun around, but didn't hiss or bolt. He just stared, and Larry made the minor mistake of locking eyes with him. He froze to the spot.

“What do you want, wolf?” Ahkmenrah asked with a soft, lilting accent.

Larry reeeeally wanted to shift form and go at this vamp with all forty-something sharp wolf teeth, but, professionalism. Night guard duties here.

“I want to know what you're doing in my territory. Museum. My museum.”

“Your museum?” Ahkmenrah chuckled.

“Yeah. Mine. I'm the night guard.”

That was when Ahkmenrah put on the vamp-speed and Larry found himself against the wall almost before the reactive snarl came from his throat. He found himself lunging for Ahkmenrah's face, probably to bite him (...probably), and the vampire's fangs were out, and they were practically touching noses they were so goddamn close.

Ahkmenrah smelled like sun and sand.

It surprised Larry, and something about him must have shocked Ahkmenrah as well, although he couldn't imagine what, because the vampire let go and backed away.

“You're all right, wolf,” he chuckled. “You're all right.”

Then he was gone through the skylight.

Larry had a plan.

He had had lots of plans before, but this one worked. Mostly it was luck, because the entire plan was to position himself beneath the skylight, just out of sight. This meant neglecting the rest of the museum, and thus his guard duties, but it only took three nights of vigilance in the Egyptian exhibit before his efforts paid off, and in that time, nobody broke into the museum.

Nobody except a four-thousand-year old vampire.

It was pretty hard to surprise a supernatural creature, especially vampires, and especially especially old ones, but Ahkmenrah made an adorable little yelp when, upon landing, Larry smiled in the shadows and casually greeted him.

“Evening, Ahkmenrah.”

“Yi-!”

He recovered quickly, and looked like he was about to scramble right back out the skylight. Larry spread his hands in what he hoped was a gesture of harmlessness, although he was well aware that if Ahkmenrah really wanted to harm him, not even a whole pack of werewolves could prevent that.

“Look, I just want to know what's up with you breaking in the skylight. If you've got a really good reason, maybe I can leave the basement door open or something. Eventually someone's going to see you and start freaking out about Batman.”

“Nobody will see me. I am better than Batman.”

Larry laughed. Ahkmenrah looked surprised for the second time this evening, and cracked a grin.

“Where's the rest of your pack, wolf?”

“My name's Larry,” Larry said. “You can just call me that. We're cool.” he paused. “We are cool, right?”

“Cool. Certainly, Larry.” Ahkmenrah practically wrapped his damn lips around his name; Larry noticed. He didn't have a sexy name, not by a long shot, but the vampire was apparently trying his best. Suddenly, Larry wished he had been named Lestat or Juan Carlos or something. “So. Where's your pack? You're a newbie, aren't you? Someone should be looking out for you.”

“I wish everyone would shut up about me being young, I'm thirty-fucking-five years old,” he mumbled. Ahk grinned. “Anyway, I figured if you didn't fang me the first night you wouldn't do it. Thanks, by the way. For not killing me or anything.”

“My pleasure.” Ahkmenrah fidgeted for a moment. “Do you know how old I am?”

“Four thousand years old?” Larry ventured to reply. It sounded weird to say aloud; it would take awhile before he got used to measuring lifespans in the thousands.

“And how old do you think these artifacts are? These....remnants?” Ahk gestured to the exhibits surrounding them. Sarcophagi, tablets, pots, paintings. Bits of daily life from a civilization long gone.

“About...four...thousand?” Larry found himself putting together the pieces.

“Smart wolf.” Larry glared at him. “I mean, smart night guard. You know, the other night guards never noticed me.”

“The other night guards probably weren't werewolves at the top of their game,” Larry commented. “But look, if you want to come and hang around the museum at night, that's fine with me.”

Once again, Larry had managed to surprise a vampire. “Really? You would let me into your territory?”

“I mean...sure. Heck, legally speaking these things should probably belong to you or something. If you've been coming in here this long without causing a major disaster, you're okay in my book.”

Ahkmenrah felt in his chest something he had not felt in many, many years. What an odd wolf. What an odd, odd, lovely wolf.

“As long as you don't touch anything,” Larry added. “Rules is rules, you know.”

“Anything?” Ahkmenrah's voice was so light, almost boyishly innocent, but Larry knew a goddamn come-on when he heard one.

“Fuck,” he said quietly. “I suppose a legitimate argument could be made for a few...uh......”

The vampire was getting closer. And closer.

“Fuck,” he said quietly.

“You're not like any of the other wolves I've met,” Ahkmenrah commented casually, walking his fingers up Larry's stupid uniform tie.

“You're the only vampire I've met,” Larry added.

“Any chance you can get off work early?” Ahk placed way too much emphasis on the words “get off.”

Ahkmenrah was king of the vampires; Larry Daley was king of bad life choices. What a perfect match.

As soon as he locked the apartment door behind him, Ahkmenrah was on him.

“How do you want me?” the vampire purred, nuzzling the size of Larry's neck. “Sprawled like a painting? Or would you like to take me from behind, like an animal?”

Larry growled and kissed him, the image of grabbing Ahk's hair and seeing nothing but smooth bronze back as he drove into him dancing through his mind. Each time they kissed, it felt like a revelation. Forbidden, certainly, but so very, very right.

Perhaps, Larry thought, vampires and werewolves weren't supposed to be together because otherwise they would never get anything done except screwing, and the species would die out.

His cock was so hard in his stupid uniform pants, and Ahk wasn't doing any better – he could tell from the skinny jeans.

“For me?” Ahk asked almost innocently as he ground his hips into Larry's.

“Fuck, you're going to get it,” Larry threatened. Ahkmenrah only laughed.

“Good. I want it. Your touch, your taste.” He slid to his knees, hitting the floor with a surprisingly solid thunk. “All of you.”

Larry looked into those brown eyes, staring up at him through hooded lids, and realized that even though he was going to be topping tonight, he was so, so thoroughly fucked.

“You need a better belt,” Ahkmenrah commented as he undid the aforementioned item.

“Do you know how much night guards get paid?” Larry retorted. “Not a whole lot, Ah-!”

His speech was suddenly cut off by Ahkmenrah licking slowly up his cock. “You do taste good. I knew you would.”

“Fuck, Ahk-” Larry's head fell back against the door as the vampire went to town with his apparently four thousand years of dick-sucking experience. Blissful minutes passed, Ahk's hands gripping his hips in a way that he was sure would leave finger-shaped bruises, until it got to be too much for Larry. He needed to fuck Ahkmenrah, now. Something snapped in him, and he dragged Ahk up by his hair.

“Bed. Now,” he snarled, and Ahk only grinned, white fangs glinting in the low light.

“Show me the way,” he whispered, and Larry hoisted him up and carried him to the damn bed, because it was a small apartment and he was a big, strong wolf.

Ahk bounced when he hit the bed and giggled at the impact – a giggle that stopped when Larry began tugging at his clothes. Pretty soon they were both naked, and Larry gazed down upon the lithe, smooth form of the oldest vampire on American soil.

“Go ahead,” Ahkmenrah said, running his hand across his chest invitingly. “I heal quickly.”

That was all Larry needed to hear; he bit down on the first bit of chest he could get his mouth on and sucked a dark mark into Ahkmenrah's skin.

“I – fingers, please, Larry, I want-” Ahkmenrah gasped, and Larry was a generous kind of guy. He was also a former boy scout and thus, well prepared. Before you could say “vampwolf fuckfest” he was easing a slick, lubed-up finger into Ahk and biting another kiss into his collarbone.

Ahk was tight, and he undulated, trying to get more, more, more sensation, more fingers, more Larry, strange as it was to believe.

But Ahkmenrah was not one to stay passive forever. When he could bear the torture no longer, he flipped them both, and quite suddenly, Larry found himself pinned beneath the boy-king, his bronze skin decorated with the marks he had made. And it didn't fucking matter that the marks would be gone by the next night.

Ahkmenrah was his.

“You're mine,” Ahkmenrah whispered, and Larry conceded that was true as well. Whatever they had gotten themselves into, it was just barely within their control – something big and ancient and powerful. “I claim you, wolf.”

That was when Ahkmenrah sheathed himself on Larry's cock. The sudden tightness, the slick and the slide, brought a yelp from Larry and he nearly shot upright from the sheer shock of pleasure. Ahkmenrah was quick to the draw, though, and pinned his hands to the bed. Out of instinct, Larry struggled, only to find Ahk's grip was like iron. Four thousand years of strength, indeed.

Ahk rolled his hips, up and down, and Larry thought he might die or become immortal; being ridden by this creature was the closest thing to transcendence he had ever achieved. Nirvana, or something.

“Larry!”

Being pinned down drove the wolf in him mad, and he responded in the only way he could – driving his hips up to fuck Ahkmenrah as hard as he possibly could. He was duly rewarded for his efforts.

“Fuck, yes, Larry!”

Close, yes, they were both close. He could sense in in the trembling of Ahk's thighs, in the slackness of his jaw. It was pretty hard to take a vampire by surprise, but Larry managed to do it, flipping them over and pinning Ahk to the bed as he drove into him hard, fast, like the animal he was.

Ahk didn't scream when he came. He just buried his fangs into Larry's neck. And Larry did the goddamn same, because fuck, yes, pleasurepainAhk.

Later, as he put blackout curtains on the window so Ahkmenrah could sleep without getting a sun rash, it occurred to Larry that perhaps this was not the wisest thing. But with the boy-king of the vampires curled up and fucked out in his bed, he decided that he didn't care. Ahk was his and he wasn't giving his vamp up for anything.

“I literally cannot believe you did this.”

“Look, Sacajawea, I-”

“He was so hot,” Ahkmenrah mumbled, scuffing his toe against the ground.

Sacajawea pinched the bridge of her nose in a futile attempt to ward off the headache. “I cannot believe that this has happened. How is this even possible.”

“Magic?” Larry suggested. “Look, you were the one who made me take the job that gave me a super-nocturnal schedule, so the only people I ever met were also nocturnal, and you know who's nocturnal? Vampires, strippers, and drug people. I think I did pretty well for myself here.”

“Lawrence Daley, don't you even think about blaming me for this!” Sacajawea hissed. “You two are the ones who bit each other during what I can only assume was wild, athletic, slightly kinky sex and managed to transform into vampire-werewolf hybrids.”

Yep. There it was. Larry and Ahkmenrah looked everywhere but each other.

“What the hell are we even supposed to call you? Vampwolves? Werepires?” she shook her head. “I give up. I just give up.”

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes until Sacajawea gathered her thoughts.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “I am guessing you are planning to stay together for the....foreseeable future?”

Larry and Ahkmenrah answered in the affirmative. The foreseeable future was very long indeed.

“Okay. We have got this, we can do this. You two idiot assholes are going on a nice trip – call it a honeymoon – to anywhere, literally anywhere that is not here, and preferably several thousand miles away. I hear Greenland is lovely this time of year. I am going to work out the political situation, and when you two trash numbskulls come back you can live as adorable, fluffy, undead boyfriends. Got it?”

“Yes, Sacajawea,” the two of them said in unison.

“And Ahkmenrah. I know how rich you are. You are buying me a goddamn Jetta. Red paint and all the options.”

“Yes, Sacajawea.”

“Good. Get out.”

Ahk scrambled for the door, four thousand years of power wilting in the face of Sacajawea. But Larry hung back for a moment.

“You're the best Alpha, you know that?” he grinned at her.

She threw a shoe at him. Larry knew when to beat a retreat.

“That went well, I think,” Ahkmenrah smiled at him.

“She didn't literally bite our heads off, so I think it went pretty well too,” Larry replied.

Ahk's grinned shifted. “Speaking of biting...”

Larry laughed. “You're insatiable, aren't you?”

“It's this new werewolf drive. Honestly, I don't know how you get anything done...”

Laughing, together, they stepped out into the infinite New York night.