Archive of Our Own ^beta

Percival is way too hungry to be risking getting in the middle of a crowd like this.

He should prowl the streets instead of trying to lure someone out of a club. It’s reckless, he knows, but he tells himself he’s old enough; he can handle it. The smells of latex, deodorant and alcohol do mix together well enough to overpower the scent of any particular person. The music drowns out their heartbeats, so none stands out to tempt him. Those are two senses covered.

Trouble is, he can still fucking see. He can still see necks baring themselves for him, can see the pulse there on those who are way too excited or under the influence already. He tears his eyes away, focuses on their costumes instead – animals, superheroes, celebrities, monsters. He can see a pair of plastic fangs, and it’s funny enough do distract him for a few seconds.

Something that distracts him for more than a few seconds is a pair of legs clad in fishnets. His eyes do a double and a triple take to absorb it all - the knee-high boots, the black velvet bodysuit, the cute little bunny tail. The omega wearing them turns around as if on cue, leans back on the bar so Percival can appreciate the costume from the front – the lace design on the neckline, the choker with a fucking bell on it, the headband with bunny ears that keeps the omega’s curly hair away from his face. His eyes are lined in black and his lips are blood-red. Percival tries to make himself look away, walk away, but he’s stuck in place, and soon enough, the omega notices him looking.

His eyebrows rise in a silent question. Percival swallows, and the omega must see his throat bob, because he smiles. He beckons him closer with a finger, and Percival goes. He shouldn’t, but fuck, it’s been a while, and this omega looks delicious in every single way. Percival stops mere centimetres from him, and the way the omega has to tilt his chin up and bare his neck just to meet his gaze makes his mouth water.

“Hello,” the omega says, voice deeper than Percival anticipated. He doesn’t bother raising it, either, making Percival lean in close into his space to hear him over the music. Percival would probably hear him fine even without it, but it’s best to play along. “See something you like?”

Percival licks his lips. “Where do I start?” he asks close to the omega’s ear.

He would very much like to start by ripping the omega’s choker away and sinking his teeth into his pale throat. He grabs the bar at either side of the omega to give himself something to hold on to, discreetly scenting him to feel any fear that might arise from the gesture. He feels none, and as the omega shifts to fit against him better, Percival notices his boots are heeled. He has no idea why the realization that the difference in their heights would be even more pronounced if the omega wasn’t in them makes his mouth water even more.

“Want to tell me what you’re thinking, big boy?” the omega asks, hands tugging on Percival’s leather jacket lightly. This close, Percival can see the shimmer on his eyelids. The faint eyeshadow matches the blue of his eyes.

“I’m thinking your costume is way too nice for me to tear it away the way I want to,” Percival says, and regrets it immediately. It’s probably what every other horny alpha has told him already, but in Percival’s defence, hunger does tend to make him quite dumb. As do hot omegas.

The omega must like him, though, because he takes mercy on him and smiles as if Percival said something that was actually clever.

“Yeah?” he asks. “Did you see my tail?” he asks, half turning away in a blatant attempt to draw Percival’s gaze to his ass. He places his hands on Percival’s forearm, perking up like a dancer about to do warm ups at a handrail.

“Mm. Looks really soft.”

“You can touch it if you want.”

Percival smiles and slips his hand to the omega’s waist, taking the fluffy tail in his hand. He can’t remember anyone flirting with him in such a silly and blatant way, and it’s nice enough to almost make Percival forget he needs to feed tonight.

As the omega looks up at him over his shoulder and smiles, Percival hesitates. He wants to feed on this omega and doesn’t want it at the same time.

“What’s your name?” he asks despite himself. He doesn’t need to know. He’s never seeing the omega after tonight.

“Mordred,” he says. He turns to face Percival again, gently moving Percival’s other hand from the bar to his waist so that Percival is holding him close. “What’s yours?” he asks, placing his hands on Percival’s chest.

“Percival.”

“And what are you supposed to be, Percival?”

Percival hesitates for a moment before he bares his teeth to show off his fangs. Mordred’s smile disappears as he blinks up at him. Percival knows what he’s thinking.They weren’t there a moment before. They look too real.

Percival almost wants Mordred to push him away, to leave and save himself.

“That’s a neat trick,” Mordred says instead. “What do those feel like when you’re kissing someone?”

“I don’t know,” Percival says. “Wanna find out?”

Even in heels, Mordred has to stand on his toes to wrap his arms around Percival’s neck to kiss him. His tongue slips inside, grazing over Percival’s fangs, and Percival can feel his quiet moan at it. He groans, hands sliding down to grab Mordred’s ass and lift him up so he can sit him on the bar. Mordred giggles, cupping Percival’s face in his hands, taller than him now, and he brings him close to kiss him again and again, wrapping his legs around Percival and keeping him there until the bartender starts yelling at them to get off.

As Mordred giggles and slides off the bar, leaning his weight on Percival, Percival is struck by the thought that he wants to keep him. He’s sweet and hot and delicious. Percival wants to stay with him, doesn’t want to feed on him and hurt him.

“Take me to your place,” Mordred says, lips soft against Percival’s jaw. “You can take your time undressing me so nothing rips.”

Or I can rip it all off and buy you all new clothes tomorrow. Percival shakes his head at the thought, and Mordred steps away with a little frown.

“No? You don’t want to?”

“No, I do,” Percival assures him, shifting his hands to Mordred’s hips to pull him close. “I just don’t know if I can... control myself tonight.”

Run, Percival thinks.

Of course, Mordred doesn’t. “You think you’re going to bite me?” he asks.

“What?” Does he know? Does he–

“You’re close to your rut,” Mordred supposes. “You’re afraid you’re going to mate me.”

Percival nods. Mate, kill. Same difference.

“I can gag you,” Mordred says, leaning close to him again. “Tie you up and ride you.”

Percival groans and kisses him again. He keeps his hand at Mordred’s waist as he leads him out, hands slipping over his hips and belly as they wait for the girl to hand Mordred his coat. Percival holds it up for Mordred to slip his arms into, the coat reaching his knees.

“Don’t button it all the way down,” he says, and Mordred smiles.

“You want to keep looking?”

“Yes,” Percival admits. “But more importantly, it’ll get in the way.”

Mordred gives him a confused look, but Percival doesn’t bother explaining. His bike is parked close enough that it all makes sense soon.

“Oh,” Mordred says. Blood rises to his cheeks and Percival has to look away.

He sits astride the bike and turns around, reaching a hand towards Mordred. Mordred leans on him as he sits behind him, shifting until he’s comfortable.

“All right?” Percival asks over his shoulder.

“Yeah, Daddy,” Mordred says, voice breathy. Percival tenses, and Mordred giggles, his arms wrapping around Percival.

“Brat,” Percival murmurs.

“You have no idea.”

“Put this on,” he says, handing Mordred his helmet.

“What about you?”

“I only have the one. I’ll be fine.”

Mordred hesitates, but Percival can feel him put it on before wrapping his arms around him again.

“Hold on tight.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Percival reaches back to squeeze Mordred’s thigh briefly before he starts the bike and takes off.

He spends the whole ride reassuring himself that he can do this. He can fuck without feeding. He’s done it before. Not with someone that affected him as much as Mordred does, but he’s done it.

Mordred holds on tight as instructed, and Percival silently lifts a hand to rub over Mordred’s reassuringly at red lights, still locked tight around his middle. He’s never been inclined to feel so gentle before, and he has no idea what it is about Mordred that is so disarming, but he intends to have Mordred tie him up really tight to make sure he can’t do anything stupid.

But since when is feeding fucking stupid? It’s what he went out for tonight. It’s why he risked going into a packed club, to find someone appropriate, someone he’ll like. Isn’t Mordred just that? Something he managed to lure out of the club just so he can have him alone and helpless so he can finally fucking feed?

He’s tense by the time they reach his nest, mad at himself for even considering not feeding for the sake of some random omega. He stops the bike, and Mordred slides off behind him, swaying a little. Percival is barely up himself when Mordred frantically takes the helmet off and all but stumbles into his embrace, panting and trembling as he kisses Percival.

It makes him melt immediately, chastise himself for letting the hunger take over his brain during the ride. It’s like simply laying eyes on Mordred has reminded him how sweet he is, his demeanour urging Percival to protect rather than harm him.

He can almost hear Lancelot’s voice in his head, telling him that he needs to find someone, that he needs to stop pretending like he’s better off alone. Mordred is clearly only in this for tonight, urging Percival towards the front door so they can get to it already, but everything about him is making Percival ache to keep him.

Living for centuries provides a certain set of luxuries, and one of them is being able to make substantial amounts of money and have a good home. Mordred is not interested in the slightest, however, pressing close and tilting his head up for another kiss as soon as they’re inside. Percival unbuttons his coat and Mordred lets it pool on the floor, stepping over it delicately as Percival leads him back through the house towards his bedroom, shedding his own clothes on the way.

Inside the bedroom, the backs of Mordred’s knees hit the bed and he falls back with a little yelp, laughing as he looks up at Percival. Percival drops to his knees to take off the boots. It’s probably a good thing they’re not standing up and his brain can’t go feral about Mordred being so much smaller again.

“Where did your ears go?” he asks. He didn’t even think about them when he handed Mordred the helmet.

“I put them in my coat pocket,” Mordred say. “They’re probably all crumpled.”

“I’ll get you new ones,” Percival says without thinking.

Mordred pauses, raising his eyebrows, and Percival surges up to distract him with a kiss. Mordred’s lipstick is all smudged, and Percival’s mouth is probably about as red as his is at this point.

He gets up, still kissing Mordred, and nudges him up the bed. Mordred goes, and when Percival slides the straps of his bodysuit down his shoulders, he helps him slip it down and off his body. It has left faint red marks around his chest, and Percival leans in to kiss them, realizing his mistake when he hears and feels Mordred’s heartbeat pound against his lips. He quickly draws back.

“Might be time to tie me up,” he says, and Mordred nods, lips parted.

“What can I use?”

“Belts in the top drawer,” Percival says, nodding towards his dresser.

As Mordred gets up, Percival shifts towards the head of the bed. He watches Mordred rummage through his things, naked but for the fishnet tights and the lacy underwear hugging the curves of his ass, and he has to clench his jaw and curl his fists to keep himself from going to him.

Mordred comes back, anything but shy about restraining him, sitting himself over Percival’s cock as he presses his wrist to the metal of the headboard. Percival had chosen the bed more for the aesthetic of the metal bars rather than necessity, but he’s glad to have something to be tied to now. He groans and pushes his hips up, chasing Mordred’s weight on top of it and making Mordred smirk while he works.

“Brat,” Percival says, and Mordred’s smile widens.

“Yeah, Daddy,” he says, and he sits back, finally done, finally able to rub his ass over Percival’s cock. Percival’s boxers are still on, along with Mordred’s panties and tights, and that’s three layers between them too many.

“Take them off,” he growls.

Mordred smirks and turns around on top of him, teasing him with the sight of the tights slowly sliding over his ass. Percival can see the panties are wet with slick at his hole, and the growl the lets out makes Mordred speed up, take it all off and turn back around to face him.

“You have to behave, Daddy,” he whispers, and he balls up his panties. Percival doesn’t quite understand what he means until he lifts his hand up and hesitantly holds the ball of fabric in front of Percival’s face, his eyes questioning.

Well. He did say he would gag him.

He opens his mouth and Mordred bites his lip as he stuffs the panties in Percival’s mouth. The scent of his slick, the taste of it makes Percival’s eyes roll back. It’s the perfect distraction from the scent of his blood.

Mordred slides Percival’s boxers down his thighs and takes his hard cock in his hand, rubbing up and down. Percival pushes up into his hand and Mordred licks his lips, shifts up so he can position the cock at his hole.

His lips are parted, face scrunching up as the head touches his entrance. Percival wants to tell him to slow down, take his time, but he’s gagged, and Mordred doesn’t want it, anyway, just sinks down on him, closing his eyes with a sigh. He shifts around, up and down, just feeling the way Percival fills him up for a moment, before his movements become more deliberate.

He opens his eyes, meets Percival’s gaze as he starts to ride him.

“You feel good, Daddy,” he whimpers, and the words make Percival groan and snap his hips up. “Yes,” Mordred moans, throwing his head back and settling down harder. “God, yes, feels so good.”

Mordred leans forward, places his hands on Percival’s chest as he looks at him again. “Wanted you since I first saw you tonight. Wanted you to fuck me then and there.” Percival groans again. “You want that, Daddy? Want everyone to see how much I want it, how much I love your cock?”

The headboard rattles as Percival tugs on his restraints, wanting to touch, and the noise makes Mordred shudder. “God, I wish you could hold me down. You’d fuck me so hard I wouldn’t be able to walk. I’m–fuck, still gonna feel you tomorrow. So fucking big inside of me. Will you give me your knot, Daddy? Fuck, I want it so much.”

Percival does his best to plant his feet on the bed so he can fuck Mordred. He’s so fucking sweet, so needy, he shouldn’t have to do all the work. Mordred whines and settles over his cock and stills, letting Percival grind deep inside him for a moment.

He reaches up for Percival, panting, and removes the gag.

“Don’t–”

“I want you to tell me,” Mordred whines. “Tell me I can have your knot.”

Percival growls. “It’s yours, baby, fuck,” he moans, and Mordred closes his eyes starts bouncing on top of him, quickly working up to his orgasm.

As Percival feels his knot swell, he can’t help but focus on Mordred, on the pulse beating in his throat, and another kind of growl starts rumbling through his chest.

When Mordred looks at him, his eyes widen, but he slows down only for a moment, not letting the pleasure wind down. He grinds on top of him, taking in the swell of his knot, and Percival all but snarls as his orgasm rips through him. Mordred is right behind him, squeezing around Percival and his own cock, his come landing on Percival.

When he starts coming down, Percival can feel a tickling down his chin, and licking his lip lets him know his fangs have pierced through the skin there. They won’t retract, oversensitive and starving as he is, and if the way Mordred is looking at him is anything to go by, his eyes have gone red.

“You shouldn’t have removed the gag,” Percival rasps.

Mordred is remarkably calm for someone currently stuck on top of someone who is incredibly dangerous to him.

“You’re still tied. You can’t bite me.”

“Wanna bet?” Percival says, tugging on his restraints.

“Stop,” Mordred says, voice firm, and, to his surprise, Percival listens. “You let me tie you up.”

“So?”

“So, that means you don’t want to hurt me.”

“Don’t want it,” Percival confirms. “Need it.”

Mordred swallows, and his throat bobbing makes Percival’s fangs itch.

“Did you take me back here to kill me?”

“No. Just wanted to fuck you. Thought I could. But you’re too much.”

“Too much?”

“Too good,” Percival snaps, pulling his arms again. He breathes deeply and his gaze slips to where their bodies are joined. “You should run. As soon as you can,” he says, pushing his hips up, and Mordred gasps at the pleasure that rips through him at the movement.

“In case you didn’t notice,” he says, a little breathless, “I took your knot after seeing what you are.”

Percival pauses. “Why?”

Mordred shrugs, almost embarrassed. “It was hot.”

Percival laughs. “Hot.”

“Yes,” Mordred says. “Can you turn me?”

“What?”

“If you bite me, will I become like you?”

“Why would you want that?”

“Just tell me.”

“I can,” Percival says in the end.

Mordred takes a deep breath and nods.

He leans in, and kisses Percival lightly on the lips, retreating when Percival tries to deepen the kiss.

“I want it,” he says as he sits up again. “Please.”

“So polite,” Percival groans. He pushes up again, enjoying the way it makes Mordred tremble and sigh. “You’ll never be able to see your friends and family again.”

“I have no friends or family,” Mordred says easily. He leans forward as best as he can, laying on top of Percival to wait his knot out. “This will be an improvement.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Mordred says.

“I know you like my cock.”

Mordred chuckles. “It’s a really nice cock. And if I’m like you, you’d be able to fuck me properly, right?”

When Percival doesn’t answer immediately, Mordred raises his head to look at him.

“You’d want to stay with me?”

“Oh,” Mordred says, and hides his face from Percival again. “I’ll go as soon as you want me to,” he says quietly. “After you’ve turned me, that is.”

“It doesn’t happen instantly,” Percival says. “And I can’t do it tonight.”

Mordred actually pouts. “Why not?”

“I’m starving,” Percival says. “If I bite you tonight, I’ll kill you.”

The words actually make Mordred clench around him, and Percival lets out a breathless laugh. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“You’re one to talk,’ Mordred murmurs. He leans in for another kiss, licking the blood off Percival’s lip, and quickly retreats when Percival lifts his head up.

“Stop teasing,” Percival growls.

“Sorry, Daddy,” Mordred says, not apologetic in the least. “Couldn’t resist. But I’ll be good now.”

He sits up and puts his hands behind his back, showing he won’t touch, and Percival has to close his eyes against the image of Mordred riding him with his hands tied behind his back. He tugs on his own restraints wanting to touch him, bring him closer, hold him. He wants to do this again, wants to fuck him properly, wants to keep him. Even for a little while.

“When my knot goes down,” he starts, eyes still close, “you’ll go and lock yourself in the bathroom.” He nods towards the door. “You’ll wait for me to go out. About five minutes should get me far away enough that I won’t be able to follow your scent back home.”

“Home?” Mordred asks. When Percival looks at him, there’s an adorable little wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“I want you to think about this,” Percival says. “Go home and think about what this would mean. Losing your life. Having to kill others in order to feed.” It’s definitely weird to be talking about this when in his head he’s already sinking his teeth into someone and bleeding them dry. “If you still want it, come back here in three days.”

Though he doesn’t look too happy about it, Mordred nods. He opens his mouth to say something, but then it turns into a gasp when Percy’s knot goes down enough to release them. There’s a breathless second when their eyes lock.

“Bathroom,” Percival growls, and Mordred whimpers as he gets off of him, rushing towards the door.

As soon as the lock clicks, Percival pulls, ripping his bindings and jumping out of the bed. He ignores the urge to go for the bathroom and heads out instead, picking up his clothes as he goes and throwing them on. When he steps out, not being able to feel Mordred’s scent anymore lets him think more clearly. He gets on his bike and drives all the way across town, just to make sure he’s far away enough that he won’t turn and go back before Mordred has had the chance to get away.

Once he parks, it doesn’t take him long to creep up on someone and drag them in-between two buildings. He does get interrupted, but by then he’s lucid enough to rush towards the person after they’ve gasped and before they can run away or get to their phone or do anything, really. It’s fortunate, in a way. Having two people to feed on means none of them will lose enough blood to die. And it being Halloween night, it’d be easy for people to assume the perpetrator was someone getting a little too into the holiday instead of suspecting real vampires might actually exist.

He leaves them in the alleyway once he’s done and heads back home. He drives slower, not in a hurry anymore. Despite himself, he immediately thinks of Mordred, wonders what he’ll decide. Will he come back? Will he stay away? Will he call the cops on him and send him on the run again? He knows it was stupid of him to reveal himself, to risk losing the life he’s built just so he could fuck Mordred. Even stupider, he feels like it was actually worth it. Maybe he does need someone if needing to get laid overrides his instincts that bad.

When he walks into his house, he takes a moment to lean against the door and take a deep breath. The scent of Mordred still lingers. He wonders if it’ll disappear before Mordred comes back. If he comes back.

He takes a step forward, then stops. Mordred’s coat is still on the floor. Percival frowns. Did he leave without it? He couldn’t have missed it on his way out.

He follows the trail of Mordred’s clothes leading up to the bedroom. He opens the door quietly, but the creak is enough to rouse the figure on his bed.

Mordred sits up, eyes squinting in his direction. His hair is damp and he’s wearing one of Percival’s t-shirts that’s almost like a gown on him.

Percival steps inside. He sheds his clothes and crawls onto the bed.

“Is my life still in danger?” Mordred asks quietly.

“No,” Percival says.

Mordred pulls him in for a kiss before Percival can warn him that he probably still tastes of blood. His only reaction is a hum as he deepens the kiss, and Percival wraps his arms around him and lays them both down.

He knows he should be mad at Mordred for staying, but feeding has made him a lot calmer. Everything is a lot less urgent. He can control himself now, Mordred doesn’t have to get away immediately. They can talk about it in the morning.

For now, Percival lets Mordred cuddle up to him, throwing a leg over him as if he’s afraid he’ll leave again. Percival runs a soothing hand down his back, and he feels the hitch in Mordred’s breath the moment he gets to his lower back and doesn’t feel the line of underwear beneath the t-shirt.

“You’ll steal my shirt, but not my boxers?” Percival asks.

“They’re too big,” Mordred says. “Kept sliding down, anyway.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Percival lets his hand slide over his ass briefly, squeezing it when Mordred stirs against him eagerly.

“I’ll deal with you in the morning,” he says. Mordred lifts his head just to pout at him. “Don’t make me spank you,” Percival says, but judging by Mordred’s face, that’s not a threat. Percival groans and rolls them over so that he’s the one half on top of Mordred. “Sleep. I’m tired.”

Mordred giggles. “Okay, Daddy.”

Percival has half a mind to graze his teeth over his jaw, but he has a feeling that will excite Mordred more than anything. So he just presses a kiss there instead.

            Mordred relaxes with a contented sigh.

Though feeding is tiring, Percival doesn’t need long to regain his energy. He wakes up a little before Mordred does, only disoriented for a second before he remembers the events of the night before.

He’d brought someone home. Someone who wanted to stay with him.

Mordred looks so fragile when he sleeps. Percival wonders if that’s why he said he wanted to be turned – does he feel weak? Vulnerable? Going home with a strange alpha close to his rut doesn’t actually speak of him being afraid of overly cautious; quite the reverse. If he’s not worried about his safety, why the hell would he want to become a vampire?

And why is Percival considering turning him?

The selfish reasons are obvious – he likes Mordred. He wants him to stay, even if it’s just a little while longer. But he sees no reason for Mordred to stay with him after he’s turned. They had a good time last night, yes, but Percival doubts that will be enough to make him stay. He’s not in the habit of turning people and letting them loose on the world anymore, but he has a feeling that if Mordred asks him nicely enough, he might just make an exception.

He huffs. Mordred is not the weak one here, Percival is. A look from this omega he doesn’t even know and he crumples like a house of cards.

Mordred stirs against him, and for a moment Percival thinks he’s just cuddling up closer to him in his sleep. But then Mordred opens his eyes and lifts his head from Percival’s chest to look at him, and Percival’s actually stutters at the gentle smile that Mordred gives him.

Fucking hell. Lancelot will never let him hear the end of it.

“Good morning,” Mordred says, voice quiet and raspy. He stretches like a cat, settling his arm over Percival’s body and rubbing his cheek over his shoulder. There is not a drop of fear in him. Percival might be in love.

“Morning,” he says, running the hand that isn’t on Mordred’s hip through his hair. Mordred leans into the touch, rising a little so he can move up and kiss Percival. He nuzzles into his cheek after, the most affectionate anyone has ever been with Percival.

Percival wraps both arms around him so he can flip them, making Mordred giggle as he finds himself on his back with Percival on top of him.

“You’re really fucking cute, you know that?” Percival asks, but he doesn’t wait for Mordred to respond before he kisses him again. Mordred still hums in confirmation, wrapping himself around Percival. He nuzzles into his jaw, presses a kiss there before he grazes his teeth over his neck and kisses a spot there.

“You said you’d take care of me in the morning,” he murmurs in-between kisses that make Percival shudder.

“I said I’d deal with you in the morning,” Percival corrects, though he does grind down to make Mordred feel his hardening cock.

“Mm,” Mordred says. “Same difference.” He lets Percival pull away to look at him and smiles. “You smell really good.”

“I do? I thought I’d still smell like blood.”

“No. Just like you,” Mordred murmurs and kisses the corner of his lips.

Percival pushes up again to look at him properly. “How are you not afraid at all?”

Mordred smiles. “You can’t actually hurt me, Percy.”

Percy. He files that away for later, focusing on the ridiculous part of the sentence. “You really wanna test that assumption?”

Mordred sighs. “Don’t freak out,” he says, then his eyes flash gold.

What was that? Percival wants to ask, but his mouth doesn’t obey him. He tries to move, but his muscles are locked tight. He can’t even move his eyes away from Mordred. Before he can freak out, Mordred’s eyes flash again and he’s released, locking his muscles again in the nick of time before he crashes on top of Mordred.

“What the fuck,” he says, and Mordred is just looking at him, biting on his lips. “You have magic,” he says, and Mordred nods. He still doesn’t say anything, waiting for Percival to react.

No wonder he’s not worried. He could incapacitate him in the matter of seconds.

“But why would you want me to bite you?” Percival asks. “You’re way stronger than I am already.”

“Not physically,” Mordred says.

“But what does it matter? You could overpower people without even touching them.”

“I like to keep my options open,” Mordred says. “Witch hunters have their tricks.”

Percival nods, understanding. He notices that Mordred doesn’t mention any of these tricks, and it’s a bit of a relief to see at least some self-preservation instincts reside in him. 

“It’s not all good. Obviously. You’ll be dependent on human blood.”

“There’s plenty of people to go around,” Mordred says.

Percival huffs. “And you won’t feel bad for hurting them at all? For killing them?”

Mordred shrugs. “Why don’t you let me worry about that?”

“Because you want me to turn you,” Percival says. “I’ll be responsible for everyone you hurt, at least indirectly.”

Mordred frowns. “So you won’t do it?”

“No, I didn’t say that,” Percival says, leaning in to kiss his forehead. He can’t stand to see the dejection on his face. Speaking of which... “Did you charm me?” he asks.

“What?”

“Did you put a spell on me to make me like you so much?”

Mordred blinks up at him. “You like me?” he asks. A smile spreads on his face. “You like me so much that you think it has to be magic?”

Percival opens his mouth, then closes it. He imagines he’d blush if he could.

“Oh my god,” Mordred sighs, and pulls him down for a kiss. “You’re the cutest.”

Lancelot will absolutely laugh his ass off.

“I like you too, in case it wasn’t clear,” Mordred says, tone gentler.

“I kind of figured when I found you still in my bed last night.” Mordred can blush, and it’s delightful. It also makes his mouth water a little bit, but he ignores it. “I’d apologize for it, but you don’t seem all that upset.”

“I’m really not.”

“Because you like me?” Mordred says with a grin.

Percival sighs. “Yeah.”

“Enough to let me stay and turn me?”

“Yes,” Percival admits. “But don’t you want to go home?”

“I, uh. Don’t really have one.”

“Really?”

Mordred nods. “There’s a hotel I stay at when I don’t sleep at someone else’s house,” Mordred says. “I can sleep there if you don’t want me to stay.”

“But how do you pay for the hotel?” Percival asks. “And your costume?”

Mordred looks at him like he’s daft. “By sleeping in other people’s houses.”

“Oh,” Percival says, and he does feel daft at the realization. “Was I supposed to pay you last night?”

Mordred laughs and pulls him down so that he lies on his side next to him. “I would have told you beforehand if that was the case.”

Percival hums and tangles their legs together, his hand resting on Mordred’s lower back. “You know being a vampire is gonna make that job a lot harder, right? Especially at first.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Mordred says. “I have some money saved up. Just haven’t been able to get a place because if they ask me what my job is... well.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Percival says. “You can stay here as long as you like.”

Mordred looks at him for a long moment. “Do you mean it?” Mordred says. “I know I invited myself over last night, but I’ll go if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Percival says. “I really do like you.” At Mordred’s smile, he raises an eyebrow. “I still don’t want to turn you right away, though. You can think about it for a couple of days more while you’re here. We can go get your stuff together.”

“On your bike?” Mordred asks excitedly.

“On my bike,” Percival confirms, and Mordred giggles as Percival kisses him. Too cute. “There’s moving too fast, and then there’s this,” he murmurs, and he feels the laugh Mordred huff against his cheek.

“I’m a witch and you’re a vampire,” he says. “I don’t think normal rules apply here.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Percival murmurs and pulls Mordred closer so he can hold him again.