Work Text:
Armitage Hux has walked the Earth for centuries. He doesn’t remember what it’s like to be human, but as he knelt down in front of a half-feral fledgling he felt the pity and empathy swell inside his long-dead heart.
The fledgling, a dark haired young man with dark eyes that tinge red from the hunger, half-whimpered and half-snarled at him as he gripped the limp body of some unfortunate mortal. He was a mess. Blood was smeared across his face and dribbled onto his clothes in dark rivers. His fangs were bared in a hiss for only a second before they returned back to the mortal’s neck. Any innate sense of disgust or neatness was gone in the face of pure hunger.
He was a young one, then. New to the underworld and utterly abandoned by whomever turned him. Pity. The rogues rarely lasted because they were unable to focus on anything except the hunger without their sires.
Armitage clucked his tongue in disgust as he stood back to his full height and grabbed the fledgling by the back of his neck. Newborns were quick, but a distracted one was at the mercy of a far more experienced vampire like himself. It would be a mercy to put him down before the insanity took him. A clean kill, he thought as the fledgling hissed at him again.
He grabbed the knife from his boot, fully prepared to sink it into his neck and decapitate the fledgling when those dark eyes locked with his own. His teeth were bared still, but he sunk into Armitage’s hold like a man desperate for touch. His messy cheek pressed against Armitage’s trousers and stained them copper.
He gave the most pitiful whine as he rested there and Armitage found himself sheathing the knife. All fury and nothing to really back it up. Almost like a kitten. Armitage was so fond of cats, too.
“Messy thing,” he muttered as he used his thumb to wipe the man’s bottom lip clean, “do you have a name, hm? Can you speak or are you still enthralled in blood lust?”
For a few moments there was nothing. They didn’t breathe like mortals so the silence between them was still. He couldn’t even hear the chirping of crickets. Then he felt the gentle probing in his mind.
Kylo.
Ah, a fledgling with such a powerful grasp on their abilities was rare. Perhaps Kylo would do just fine without his sire. Perhaps he wasn’t destined for a quick ending, after all.
“You poor thing,” Armitage cooed as he tipped Kylo’s face up to look at him, “all alone and abandoned. You must be exhausted.” The slow closing of his eyes was enough to confirm Armitage’s assumption. He sagged against his leg and let the elder man’s leg support his weight. “Well,” he muttered as he glanced down at Kylo again, “we can’t have that, can we?”
So, he took him home.
Kylo was not an easy ward. He remained a mess, almost as if Armitage gained an oversized, overexcited puppy. He’d return from his hunts with blood strewn everywhere, as if more made it on him instead of inside his ravenous stomach.
Armitage would scold him, but would carefully wash his hair and clean him up after every hunt. Since Kylo was just a fledgling, he needed to feed more often. He’d gorge himself on the blood of the mortals while Armitage enjoyed a good book in front of his roaring fire.
On the nights they’d hunt together, no amount of cajoling or teaching could keep his feral boy from mutilating their chosen victim. Finesse simply wasn’t in Kylo’s vocabulary.
He rather liked it. There was something so grossly violent about the way Kylo stalked and attacked his victim that awakened something primal inside him.
It would be after Kylo descended upon a pair of unsuspecting young men kissing along a damp riverbank that Armitage would finally act upon that urge. He’d been so vicious that night. Devouring one of the men in a rush of snarling, snapping teeth that had his eyes locked on the gruesome sight.
He’d been unable to stop himself as he tugged the fledgling close and kissed him furiously. His hands nearly ripped the vampire’s trousers as he tugged them down his thighs. He fucked Kylo right beside their rapidly cooling leftovers. Used the blood from Kylo’s face to slick the way for his cock as he fucked him roughly against the dirt.
Armitage felt alive for the first time in centuries.