🧛♂️Lean's POV:
yawn-stretch-lip smack-eyes still puffy
Where... where am I? This place looks familiar-
Oh. Wait. It's my room! Did I seriously pass out last night? Dang... maybe Puppers dragged me home.
I wobble up on shaky legs, swaying like a newborn deer. Huh. He even changed my clothes. Typical Dom-pretending he doesn't care while caring way too much.
I shuffle to the window and yank the curtains wide.
"Ahg!" The sunlight stabs my poor vampire eyes. For a second, I'm blinded. But when it clears-wow.
The streets, the houses... everything is glittering white. Kids are shrieking with laughter, rolling giant snowballs, locked in full-on snowball wars. Across the street, the old couple is out too, their children visiting. The whole world feels like it's humming with holiday magic.
And my chest squeezes a little. Because every year... I used to celebrate Ahristmas.
(Okay, so-what's Ahristmas? Long story short: Lord Luci gets feral around this time of year. So he invented his own thing-Anti-Christmas. And all of us demons, monsters, creatures of dark? We celebrate it. We set up a dead banyan tree, hang voodoo dolls, maybe a skull or two. Then comes the food contest-how many souls can you gulp down before exploding? After that, the wine party. Don't ask me how, but the Monster Wine Factory always digs up some 1000-year-old bottle for the occasion. And of course-movie night. The classics. Psycho-killer films. Ted Bundy? Biggest star in Hell. Three hundred blockbusters, perfect five-star rating on Rotten Apple. Don't ask.)
But me? I never vibed with it.
So I used to sneak out, slip away to Mazi's place. They weren't rich or anything, but they were warm, welcoming. Aunty Lily... she made the best gingerbread, no contest. We'd set up the Christmas tree together, snack on treats, laugh until our stomachs hurt. At the end of the night, she'd bring hot chocolate and cookies, tuck us into bed like we were her own kids. Honestly, her home was my second home. She was my second mom.
Once, Mazi and I tried sneaking some of Santa's milkshake, and oh boy-did we get a lecture.
"Staying up too late! Ruining the holiday magic!"
And I was like, "But Aunty, I'm a vampire-I don't need sleep! I sleep by choice!"
Still didn't save us.
Oh how did she knew? Well even I don't know maybe she saw my cute fangs! Hehe.
But you know what? That was the first time I ever got real Christmas presents. From her. She always knew exactly what I liked.
And right now... I'm really missing them. This Christmas feels so hollow without her warmth.
"...Anyway!! Where's the mutt?"
Oh wait-sniff sniff sniff. Something smells good. My tummy just growled like an angry wolf. He's definitely in the kitchen. What time is it? 9 AM?! Why isn't he at college yet?
🐺Dominic's POV:
Ok... so what happened last night? Well, I went to the medic to get something for his swollen dick, and he clung to me like some distressed koala. He slept the whole way home.
I came back to find my cup set broken. Sometimes I just wanna strangle this vampire. Seriously.
Anyway... I flopped him down on the sofa-still asleep-pulled his pants down, and started applying that... sus thing the medic gave me for his dick.
I grabbed it...the dick-and why the hell is it so cold?! Oh right, his damn blood is cold. And it's small, like some ridiculous lollipop(5 inches ig....OK PISS OFF HUMANS I DIDN'T MEASURED IT WITH A BLUE HELLO-KITTY SCALE WHICH SMELLS LIKE STRAWBERRIES). How the hell did he manage to get it stuck in the zippers?!
WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK IS IT GETTING HARD?!
Ok, Dom. Act professional. It's just some random vampire with a swollen dick. That's it. Just finish it.
I looked away, grabbed the lollipop... ah, the dick... and as soon as I started applying the gel... he squeaks, purrs, and makes whatever unholy sound vampires make when they're cold. Me? Sweating. Red as a tomato.
Well... anyway, I did it. Pulled the bed dress over him and put him to bed.
And... yeah. I jerked off in the bathroom like seven times in a row. You don't need to know that.
Morning comes. The vampire's still in bed. My Christmas holidays have started, so I guess I get more time to... socialize with this feral beast.
Ok, let's get something to eat.
Umm... it's the 24th, right? I put out the Christmas shits ages ago, back when mom started hating me. Like, Christmas isn't about doing it yourself-it's about having someone. Well... I guess now I have someone.
Don't you dare giggle, Dom!
And... tail? When did you flop out?!
So... some fruitcake and gingerbread, I guess. I used to help mom with this every year. And Alex-ok, leave it.
*Deep morose sigh.*
Marshmallow cookies were his favorite. I still have a pack lying around. Will vampires like them? Who cares-it's worth a try.
I put on my "army" apron, spun the whisk in my fingers, and declared, "Ok, get ready to slay the kitchen! Chef Wolfie Ramsay is here!"
🧛♂️ Lean's POV
I wobble into the kitchen and there he is. My hee-ro. I sneak up and hug him from behind.
He almost punches a wall.
"Why the fuck didn't you say you were coming?" he snaps.
"Because it's fun!" I sing. "You squeak like a puppy-hehe."
"What did you say?"
"It's fun to scare you."
"Hmm... yeah. Someone I used to know used to say that." He sighs and starts beating the dough like he's trying to punish it. Okay... who did he mean? He looks... sad.
I climb his huge back like I'm conquering Mount Everest and peek over his right shoulder.
"What are you making, Puppers? Don't you have college? It's late!"
"Gingerbread and cake. It's Christmas tomorrow, genius - I've got winter break and semester's over."
My eyes sparkle. "So I get to spend time with you now!!!!! Yuppies!!!" I kiss his cheek like I'm about to munch it down.
"Agh!! Ok ok! You're ridiculous. What a disaster to be with." He wiggles and I flop down on him. He's definitely not mad.
I can feel something different in him. Not the ogre from the first day I woke up naked in his house. Not the big alpha jerk with hotness issues. Since that blood-fever thing, he's... softer. Still barks, still grumpy, but he giggles more and tolerates my nonsense without cursing me out. Is... is he into me? Aww. Did I just wrap the reddest flag around the town? Well, whatever. He's mine-ish. Maybe.
"Why the hell are you giggling like a crackhead and blushing blue like a dumbfuck Blueberry?" he barks.
Nah, same mutt.
"Soooo... who was that guy you mentioned?" I probe, batting my eyes dramatically.
"What? When?" he snaps.
"The guy you said sounded like me. Was it a girl? Your ex? It doesn't matter, but... I-" okay, jealousy: activated.
"Shut the hell up! It's nobody. None of your business. I was never into relationships!" He slams a chunk of gingerbread dough into my mouth - his aim is terrifying. I almost choke, but it's tasty.
"Well! If it's none of my business, you shouldn't be shy to spill the tea, Puppers." I elbow him twice. He grunts.
"Ok... fine. I'll tell you. You're fucking irritating. Let me finish the bread. Go brush your fangs and take a shower."
I give him a tight hug and sprint to the washroom like a dramatic roadrunner, definitely stepping on his toes.
"You feral bug with the antics of a drunken raccoon-squirrel hybrid, I will shove you in the oven and-" He keeps barking; I don't care. It's our daily opera, babes. 💅.
🐺 Dominic's POV:
This guy nearly crushed my toes.
Great. Start the day with potential amputation.
Now he's in the shower singing at the top of his lungs - "It's my life... it's now or never... I ain't gonna live forever..." - completely out of tune. Bro, you're basically immortal. Save the dramatics.
I shove the tray of gingerbread into the oven and start whisking eggs for the fruit cake. I've got cherries, two bananas, an avocado, a handful of blueberries and cranberries. It'll do. (Honestly I'd put mango in everything if I could. Mangoes are love.)
Okay. What do I even say to him? Alex. Just thinking the name pulls the floor from under me. Flashbacks hit like a truck; my throat tightens.
The crash - metal screaming, people running, the sting of petrol in the air, the flesh-burning heat of the fire. Then blood. And the last thing before I blacked out: Alex's face, torn and red, smiling through tears.
"Ouch." My fist clenches the knife too tight; my palm splits open. Blood drips, but it'll knit itself closed in a minute. Wolf-healing fixes the skin, not the memory.
How the hell am I supposed to tell him? The only person I ever told was Dumbfuck1: Ray - and that was a mess. I sobbed into a college locker until my ribs ached, and Ray babied me like a giant, awkward panda. Humiliating - but safe.
This guy, Dumbfuck2, is more feral chaos than Ray. If I start, he'll probably burst into tears himself, cry-howl into the sink, and I'll melt into a puddle of guilt and need. Not helpful.
Alright, Dom. Breathe. You like him, right? If you like him, you owe him the truth. He's shared his scars with you - fair's fair. Time to be equal.
"Don't you dare touch my soap, you've got the banana-scented one!" I bark when the shower singing switches to a whispered conversation with his mirror bestie - Bloody Mary, apparently - about borrowing my soap. Really. What a disaster. And yet - I'm the idiot falling for the chaos. Classic.
I wash my hands extra thoroughly, let the cake batter come together, and pull a chair to flop down. Knife on the counter, heart in my throat. I wait for whatever question he decides to stab me with.
Let him ask. Let him look. Let the past stop hiding in the corners of my chest. If he really wants me, he's gotta want the whole mess.
🧛♂️ Lean's POV:
What a chat - me and Mary absolutely simped over Puppers.
Mary's mental health is back on track, she's back to work, screamed at three teens in Canada last night, and even got a paycheck from Monster Corp for collecting three young souls. She's going on a date with a midnight man. Big mood.
I flop out of the shower, water still clinging to my skin. I like to feel the drops evaporate, dramatic as always, and drift into the dining room. There he is: my anti-hero, brooding like a soap opera poster.
"PUPPE-" I start.
He cuts me off. "PUT some damn clothes on at least!! Have some decency, God!"
"It's you and me only!! Doesn't matter, you've seen everything on me!!" I chirp.
"What, but- Agh fine. Just... for the sake of my dignity, put this handkerchief on your dick!" He heaves a kitchen hankie at me.
"Fine!" I flop into the chair beside him, fold the hankie into a neat triangle, and place it like a tiny toga on my wee-wee. Pose: Greek statue. Leaf-on-wee-wee energy. Iconic.
Why is the wolf is banging his head on the wall like it's cardio? "VAMPIRE, CAN YOU NOT BE A CRACKHEAD FOR ONE HOUR?!"
"NAH! I was born like this. Deal with it, Puppers!" I flick water at him.
He sighs, exasperated but softening. "Okay... so yeah. Ask whatever you want... just don't jump on me if things get messy."
Don't worry, Puppers - I am gonna jump on you the second it gets messy.
🐺 Dominic's POV:
This guy... seriously. I'm here, palpitating like hell, wondering how the hell I'm gonna tell him.
And he?
Now he's flopping out of the shower, water dripping everywhere like some dramatic vampire princess, striding into the dining room like he owns the place. Brooding? Nah. Chaos incarnate. And NAKED.
"PUPPE-" he starts.
I cut him off. "PUT some damn clothes on at least!! Have some decency, god!"
"It's you and me only!! Doesn't matter, you've seen everything on me!!" he chirps.
"What, but- Agh fine. Just... for the sake of my dignity, put this handkerchief on your dick!" I hurl a kitchen hankie at him.
"Fine!" He flops onto the chair beside me, folds the hankie into a triangle, and - what the hell - poses like some Greek statue. Leaf-on-dick energy. Iconic.
I slam my forehead against the wall. Again. "VAMPIRE, CAN YOU NOT BE A CRACKHEAD FOR ONE HOUR?!"
"NAH! I was born like this. Deal with it, Puppers!" Water flicks at me. I swear, I'm gonna combust.
I sigh, exasperated, and try to steady my temper. "Okay... so yeah. Ask whatever you want... just don't jump on me if things get messy."
I watch him, my chaos of a vampire, all wet and smug. God, why do I find this endearing? Don't answer that. Don't even think it. I just wanna drag him to the bed. Ok, no, Dom, no dirty thoughts. Be serious!
"Ok so who is this person we are dealing with?" He raises his eye brow .
🧛♂️ Lean's POV:
Umm.
Ok - he's dead serious. Like... sweating. Scratching his head. Even his wolf ears and tail are out.
I clutch his hand and look into his eyes. For the first time I don't see anger, sass, or grump. I see blackness - something heavy. Self-questioning. Rejection.
"If it's that bad, we... we can skip it. I-I'll never ask you again."
Devil, I don't want to make him feel worse.
"No, that's not it. I... I will tell, but-" He looks away.
"But what, love? Tell me. I'll listen." I squeeze his hand harder.
Ok, Lean. You are slaying this. The K-dramas are helping: clutch the arm, look in the eyes. I'm gonna cry if he says something sad!!
"Everyone who knows about my past hates me like a criminal. Only that fool Ray-he's got no brain cells and somehow doesn't hate me. He actually cares for me, more than I deserve."
He's doing it. He's opening up. I didn't expect this rock-of-a-man to be... soft. Vulnerable. Like butter. Or a marshmallow? Nah - more like ice cream. Focus, Lean.
"Shut up!! If Ray's a fool then I'm his spiritual twin!! I'm dumber than him!! And I'm not gonna judge you even if you're a registered SEXUAL offender!!"
"What!!! No!! I am not-what the actual fuck makes you think I'm one?!"
"Agh, you're hot? And mysterious and-"
He plucks my lips shut with his fingers. I can smell cake batter on them; I could probably kiss them and get buried.
"Just shut up and listen. Before I change my mind."
I nod. Obedient vampire = me.
"Ok... so where do I even start. Wait - lemme grab something real quick. Bread's almost done. Be right back."
He grunts into the kitchen. I hear the oven. The bread comes out and the sweet smell nearly kills me. Wolf's got culinary skills of the devil. Respect.
"Wait - I'm coming!" he calls, stomping toward his room.
Me? Sitting here with curiosity eating me alive. What did he even do? Robbery? Murder? Something worse?
He comes back from his room slow, like each step costs him something. He's holding that album - the one I'd leafed through when I was home alone. I remember the little Dom's in the pictures: smaller, brighter and full of grin. Puppers sets the album on his knee, opens it, and calls me in: "Come here, take a look."
I squeeze to his arms.
He shows me the photos, fingers trembling. "You see that me? That's my mom and dad, and that one is my grandpa." He points. Then he stops on a picture of another kid - thinner, fairer, the same shape as Dom but softer, smaller. My heart does a stupid jump.
"And he? Who is it?" I ask, pointing at the photo.
Puppers lets out a breath that's all pain and stale air. "That's the guy we are gonna talk about. He... he is Alex. My... my younger brother." His voice shrinks into a place I've never heard him go.
I look at him, at how his hands tremble on the album. My head pings with a thousand questions before his mouth opens and the story comes out - and I listen, because his voice is rough and it's brave and I want to catch every shard.
He says it the way only someone who's carried guilt and love can: small, jagged, spilling.
"Your brother? You... you never talked about him to me! Where he lives? Can we meet him! Is he grumpy like you?" I ask, too many questions, and he answers in pieces.
"Like me? Nah boy! He was far better than me, he was the angel; I am the devil. Maybe the sweetest kid to be around, he... he -" His voice cracks.
"Was?" I raise my voice in confusion.
"Yes! He... he died, fucking killed. I am the criminal! He... around the age of 5 got some serious leg injuries after falling from a slide that made him permanently paralysed from the waist. He used wheelchairs, he was smarter than me, polite and more loving than me! He could have made mom and dad so proud more than I ever could. I was the trouble kid - hanging out with friends, sleepovers and all - definitely not what I am now, an unsocial sex-crazed fucking grump!
I loved him very much. Every day I used to come home from school quick so I could take him out to parks and places he loved. I used to carry him around in his wheelchair. He was my everything. I remember how I prayed for weeks to have a baby brother to God, and when Alex came into my life I... I can't even explain how happy I was.
After the accident I became more protective of him. I used to help him eat, feed him basically, take him to showers and help him pee and all! I saved my pocket money to get new toys for him. Winnie the Pooh was his favorite!
He was three years younger than me; I was too possessive of him. One day when I took him to the park in the evening, a few kids who were older - maybe I was 15 and they were like 18 - they made fun of Alex and called him names; one even threw a stone at him. I got so mad that I got into a bloody fight with them. I busted one's eye, but they overpowered me and kicked my ass. Alex, sitting helpless in his wheelchair, kept begging them to stop. A cop saved me. I had a broken arm; mom grounded me for a week. I was sad, but then Alex came to my room. I helped him on the bed. He wasn't mad at me. He was proud. He said I was like a superman! He hugged me, and that day I knew that someone loved me more than anyone. He was a genius, helped me with my summer break homework. We went camping, and whatnot. We were inseparable. One time I was supposed to go on a week-long school trip, but I canceled because he wasn't going.
Time went by. I was in high school, 17 then, five years ago. Dad got our first family car. I picked up few bad friends who taught me to drive a bit - I didn't have a license.
One night Alex said he wanted to go for a long drive to the beach, and the idea stuck.
One evening Dad was out of town and Mom was at the neighbor's house for some baby shower. I took Alex to the car, made him sit in the passenger seat, tucked the seatbelt on him. He trusted me so much; he never questioned. Oh how much that kid trusted me."
Oh! Oh my he is sobbing, bad sobbing his his eyes are turning saffron, his ears and tail swag down, fuck what I do!! I clutch his arms harder and curl onto it.
"I took him out on the highway, but then two trucks came out in front of me out of nowhere. I didn't know how to drive well; I lost control and then... loud horns and a crash. Our car flipped twice, maybe more. Everything went black. Glass cracking, my whole body bleeding and burning, but I didn't care. I leaned toward Alex's side - he was quivering, his face all covered in thick red blood - but he was smiling because I was there with him. I cried and held his hands, told him everything was going to be okay, but he only said, 'It's okay, Dom. I love you. You did enough. I am so proud and lucky to have a bro like you, man. I will be fine. I love you.' That was the last thing I remember before blacking out.
I felt people pulling me out of the car. I held his hands so tightly but they slipped. Everything blurred. I woke up after five days, wrapped in bandages in the hospital. Mom wasn't there - it was just Dad. I knew Mom hated me by then. Maybe Dad too, but he couldn't leave me alone. I asked about Alex and Dad's eyes said everything without a word. I was shattered - I am a murderer of my own brother. I cried and tried to tear away all the tubes and stuff attached to me. The doctors sedated me. I was released after three weeks.
When I came home it felt like a graveyard. I could hear Alex, feel him, but couldn't see or touch him. I became silent. I had to go to therapy sessions and take meds. Mom hated me and blamed me - I don't blame her, I blamed myself. I barely passed high school and got into college on donations. Dad sent me to this college far from home because it would be better for both Mom and me. Then I became what I am now. I got into regular hookups as a coping mechanism. It helped. I met Ray at the college on the orientation day, we were in the same group and I don't know how he became the guy I dumped my trauma upon. If that fool wasn't around I might have killed myself by now! Then I became somewhat popular after hitting the gym, and football, girls went crazy for my looks, and then that werewolf thing happened."
He stops. The album is open on his knee. His voice has been a landscape of grief and fury and this ridiculous, stubborn love. I feel my throat tilt like it's filled with ice.
I don't move at first. I am supposed to be the dramatic one, the clingy one, but the words - the whole brutal thing he just handed me - unspool inside my chest like a sharp ribbon. Everything he said I had heard then, now, each syllable carved into me. He told me about the fall, the trucks, the blood, the last words from Alex - his little brother saying he was proud. He told me how he woke up to silence, to Dad's eyes, to Mom's hate, the therapy, the meds, the exile to a far college, the hookups, Ray, and the gym and then the werewolf thing. Every detail he'd pulled from the dark, he laid across my hands like a confession and a burial.
My fingers tighten on his arm then trail down to his knuckles. I want to say every comforting thing and also everything stupid and everything knuckle-headed that will make him look at me like he doesn't deserve. I want to scream at him that he did enough - that he loved Alex in the feral, fumbling, gorgeous way that saved Alex every day they had together - but the words feel too clumsy for the wound he's holding.
He looks smaller now, younger, thinner in the way the album made him. I think about the way he said, I am the criminal - the way guilt makes a man shrink even with claws. The smell of the bread still hangs in the air, ridiculous against everything else, and I inhale it like a prayer. I want to kneel and put my face to the album and tell the boy in the picture I'll keep him safe somehow. I want to throw the world at Dom and make it return him to the boy before the crash.
Instead, I do the thing Lean always does when everything is too sharp: I flail with drama and tenderness all at once.
"Dom," I whisper, because his name is the only weapon I have and the only home I know right now. My voice is too thick. "You didn't kill him, Puppers. You were a kid. You loved him. He loved you. You were there. You were-" I break. I press my forehead to his shoulder. The album trembles.
His body is taut like a coiled thing. I can feel the tremors down his spine. He's waiting for me to recoil, to flinch, to hate him for the accident he already hates himself for. But what I feel is simpler and more feral: fury and ache and a terrifying want to keep him.
He keeps watching me like I might break, and I keep remembering the little boy smiling in the blood and saying he was proud. It splits me open in a different way. There's a silence that tastes like hot metal. I let it sit there, heavy and sacred.
I don't let the silence turn into distance. Instead, I do the only messy thing I know will matter.
I lean over, press my mouth to his temple, and speak into his hair: "Tell me everything. All of it. Don't stop. I'm not leaving." My fingers lace with his, squeezing like prayer.
He exhales like a broken thing and, with the album open between us, begins to tell me more - not as a lecture, but as a confession that has to be pulled from scar tissue. I hold him while he does it. I am a mess inside, but I will be his safe place. I will be loud and ugly and ridiculous and never let him go.
I wipe at his tears with the back of my hand, muttering, "Stupid wolf... don't let tiny vampires like me see you cry, it's illegal or something. Remember you are the grump here " I hug him tight, my chest pressing against his, and breathe him in - the faint smell of bread, sweat, and him. "Dom, listen... you were the best brother ever. Alex loved you because of you, Ray loves you not because he is fool but because he saw the innocent guilt in you, and moreover I love you! I don't care if you care or not! , every wild, messy, chaotic part of you. You didn't kill him, you loved him so damn much it almost broke me just hearing it. You did everything you could, and you're still here. You're still... amazing."
I press my forehead to his temple, fingers threading through his messy hairs, and pointy wolf ears.
"And I'm not going anywhere, okay? Not now, not ever. You don't have to be alone in this, Puppers. I'm your chaos buddy, your cuddle monster, your... your everything if you want me to be. Cry on me, scream, flail, be all the broken and messy parts - I'll still love you. Always."
I pull back just enough to catch his eyes, my grin wicked and messy. "Also... just so you know, you're not allowed to sulk like a tragic werewolf without me flopping dramatically on top of you. Like a proper vampire heap. Consent is optional when I'm being extra."
I let myself tumble onto his lap, arms wrapping around his torso, pressing my cheek to his chest. "See? Chaos achieved. You can't escape me now. Not even if you tried to brood harder."
Even through his trembling, I catch that tiny twitch of a smile. Victory. Tiny, absurd, heart-melting victory. And I stay there - ridiculous, warm, and stubbornly in love - until the wolf decides he can breathe again without crumbling.
And as he trembles in my arms, snuggles into my damp golden cruls, I can feel his warm breaths and wet tears on my head, messy, broken, perfect... I know one thing for certain: I'm not letting him go, not now, not ever even if he kills me, that's it!