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Jack has been cooking all week.
Jack hasn’t cooked in centuries.
It would be funny if it didn’t feel vaguely condescending, like he was quietly mocking Gabriel for getting so attached to a human so quickly, even if Gabriel insists it isn’t attachment. It isn’t his fault Jesse’s blood is like nothing he’s ever had before, something unearthly and addictive all wrapped up in a human who looks like they walked off the set of a shitty low budget western.
Somewhere around Gabriel’s fifth assertion that no, it’s not personal, it’s a matter of taste, Jack just hummed in a patronizing sort of way and started combing through the internet for organic blueberry muffin recipes and high-end cookware.
The first dozen or so attempts ended in disaster, but Jack has always been stubborn as fuck, and after recruiting a few of their neighbors for taste tests he seems to be happy with the results. Now there kitchen is stacked with homemade granola bars and banana bread, muffins piled high on a platter, fridge stuffed full of fruit and yogurt and a variety of fresh squeezed juices. The shelves are overflowing with enough food to feed a handful of humans for at least a week, Jack’s supply of synthetic blood tucked neatly away in the produce drawer.
A few minutes before Jesse is due to arrive for his second visit Jack is still in the kitchen, fussing over a tray of lemon bars with a frown.
“Do these smell right to you?” Jack asks, one of the pastries lifted to his nose, brows drawn together. Gabriel sighs and leans against the counter, lip curling as Jack holds it out to him.
“It all smells like dirt and sticks. Get that away from me,” he says, slapping Jack’s hand away from his face. “It’s human food. I haven’t eaten in over two thousand years, how the fuck am I supposed to know? Still think it’s unsanitary to have it in the house. It’s gonna mold. Last thing we need is a kitchen full of rotting fruit and bread. You know he’s supposed to be feeding us and not the other way around, right?”
Jack sighs and puts the bar down, rolling his eyes.
“Some of it will keep for a while. I’ll send some home with Jesse. The rest I’ll give to the neighbors. Why does it bother you so much?”
Jesse. Jack’s on a first name basis with Gabriel’s dinner after meeting him once. He picks up a crumb off the counter and makes a face before flicking it away.
“I just think it’s a waste of effort to feed the food. He already gets paid. A lot! By me! You were the one complaining about the cost and then you go and blow a thousand dollars on baking pans and dark chocolate and granola.”
Jack smirks in a way that has Gabriel’s jaw clenching before he even says a word.
“I know you’re defensive because you have feelings for a human, but—”
“I do not have feelings, I—”
“—taking out your frustrations on me won’t make you feel better, Gabriel.”
“Listen,” Gabriel says, pushing off of the counter with a finger pointed at Jack just as a knock at the front door echoes through the house. Jack’s grin goes crooked, which is always unfair.
He looks absurdly attractive like that, eyes glittering and mouth quirked high on one side. It’s what kept him alive twelve hundred years ago when he came for Gabriel, knight in shining armor with a sword in hand, ready to cut down a monster.
It keeps him alive now as he huffs a laugh, one eyebrow cocked up in amusement.
“Are you going to let your dinner date in or should I?”
Gabriel throws him a glare but Jack just keeps smiling, pushing past him to head towards the living room. He follows with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe as Jack opens the door for Jesse, wearing an entirely different smile now.
“Hello Jesse, good to see you again! Come in, come in.”
Jack shakes his hand, patting him on the shoulder and ushering him inside. He’s got the same cowboy hat as before, though this time he’s holding it in one hand instead of wearing it on his head. He’s dressed moderately better, dark denim and a flannel shirt without loose threads everywhere, though he still has on the same worn out boots, the same gaudy belt buckle.
He dressed up for Jack, Gabriel realizes, and swallows down a snarl. Jesse is all smiles too, that star-struck look on his face as he bites his lip and slips through the door.
“Hey there, sunshine. Good to see you again, too. Wasn’t sure if I’d be coming back or not, but I guess I wasn’t all bad,” he says, catching Gabriel’s eye from across the room and winking. “Hey, Gabriel. Appreciate the good review. Glad you decided to have me back.”
Gabriel fights the urge to roll his eyes and lifts his chin once in acknowledgement instead, crossing over to the couch and sitting down, glancing meaningfully at the space beside him. Jesse nods politely at Jack as he edges past him to sit next to Gabriel, setting his hat down on the coffee table. His sleeves are already rolled up to his elbow, but Jesse folds them higher, exposing the soft skin on the inside of his forearms.
There are recent bites on both sides; one looks fresh enough that it couldn’t be more than a day old. The others are older, but there are more of them, three pairs of fangs all clustered together like someone couldn’t help but keep sinking their teeth into Jesse. Gabriel understands the impulse. As much as he dismisses Jack’s teasing, he’s spent most of the week daydreaming about this— tasting Jesse again, skin parting under his fangs, blood spilling decadent over his tongue.
Biting through someone else’s teeth marks was definitely not part of the fantasy, though, and Gabriel can’t help the way his lip curls in distaste. Jesse seems to notice his irritation. The top two buttons on his shirt are already undone, but Jesse works the next two open as well, tugging his collar down on one side.
“Think the right side of my throat is the cleanest place right now. Or, the cleanest that’s easy to get to, anyway. But you can feed from anywhere you like, Mr. Reyes.”
He’s Gabriel and Mr. Reyes and Jack is sunshine, and that shouldn’t rankle but it does.
Except then Jesse is pulling his collar down even further, exposing the unmarked curve of his throat— there are bite scars there, but they’re old, barely visible. Something that will fade away with the right biotic ointments.
Something Gabriel could coax away with his fingers, rubbing biotics and lotions into Jesse’s skin until nothing but his own marks remained.
He shakes the thought away and sits up, lifting a hand to cup Jesse’s jaw, feeling the way he leans into his palm to give Gabriel space on the other side. Room to move. Room to bite. Jesse’s eyes are already lidded, flitting from Gabriel to Jack and back again. Gabriel runs a thumb over his bottom lip and lets his eyes flash black.
“Anywhere, huh?”
Jesse nods slowly, tilting his head more and shifting in place. He’s hard in his jeans— even if Gabriel couldn’t scent the arousal the bulge is unmistakable.
“Anywhere you like.” It’s breathy. Jesse eases his thighs wider when he says it, cants his hips forward a little.
Jesse might be professional by necessity, but there’s something pliable and hungry just under the surface. Gabriel files that away for another day, and throws Jack a questioning glance.
Jack’s got a half smile, and he shrugs, and nods.
“I’ll remember that,” Gabriel says, and leans in to tuck his nose into Jesse’s throat and breathe.
The way Jesse smells is already burned into his memory, like some starved beast catching the fleeting scent of prey. The traces of smoke are fainter than before, like he didn’t want to smell like cigarettes. There’s cologne this time— something subtle enough it has to be one of the varieties made to appeal to keen vampire noses. Not even Jack would be able to smell it unless he got close, and Jesse doesn’t have more than one appointment each day.
It’s something he wore just for Gabriel.
Gabriel drags his teeth over Jesse’s pulse point, feels him shiver.
Then he buries his fangs in Jesse’s throat, and groans.
Jesse still tastes like all those things he did before— power, and sunshine, and ecstasy. Gabriel’s fingers are clawed again, eyes black beneath his lids as he growls into Jesse’s skin.
It isn’t that the blood is different now that his teeth are in Jesse’s throat instead of his arm, but it’s pumping faster over his tongue, everything blurring and strobing around him. He’s going to be even drunker on Jesse’s blood than last time. Gabriel thinks of how stoned he was, words slurring and fingers clumsy long after Jesse had gone. Thinks of how Jesse had shaken off his influence like it was nothing. Like Gabriel didn’t have millenia of power banked in him, ready to bend people to his will.
It isn’t intentional. Gabriel doesn’t decide to do it.
His thrall seeps through his fangs of its own volition, venom thick and strong and overwhelming enough to bring a dozen humans to their knees, except there aren’t a dozen humans on the end of his teeth.
There is only Jesse, and he mewls, clinging to Gabriel with shaking hands, hips grinding lazily forward.
Gabriel thought his blood had been ambrosial before, but now he can taste his thrall in Jesse, can taste the ragged edge of his want. The sound Gabriel makes is guttural, and Jesse echoes it with something loud and needy, and Gabriel drinks, drinks, drinks, until he’s glutted and high and Jack is prying his jaw apart and tugging him away.
“Gabriel… Gabriel, stop.” From the sound of his voice, it isn’t the first time he’s said it. Gabriel pulls off, blinking stupidly at Jack for a moment before leaning back in to lick up the blood that’s dripping down Jesse’s collar bones. “Get off,” Jack says, louder this time, jerking Gabriel roughly away from Jesse. Gabriel hisses before he can stop himself, and Jack shoots him a dark look.
Then he looks at Jesse, who’s a little pale, blood trickling down into his clothes with his pupils blown wide.
“Oh,” Jesse says, lids heavy like he’s having a hard time keeping his eyes open, “wow, that’s nice. You’re really old, huh?”
Gabriel frowns, reaching out to wipe up the stray blood with his fingers and licking them clean like some kind of hungry newborn. He is old, but it sounds bad when Jesse says it like that. He doesn’t like it.
“I’m not old,” Gabriel says, slurring just as badly as Jesse, still black eyed and clawed and absolutely gone on his blood. He’d drunk too much— it had been centuries since Gabriel felt like this.
The last time he’d been glutted it had been the result of a cult of vampires bringing him human offerings by the dozen in an endless procession, feeding just a little from one after another until he felt like he might burst. A thousand years, give or take.
They didn’t make cults like they used to; nowadays everyone was so squeamish.
Gabriel doesn’t know what it is about Jesse’s blood that makes him so fucking delicious. In the old days he’d just lock him away in his house and either terrify him into obedience or spoil him until he didn’t want to be anywhere else. Not that he ever felt the inclination to keep a specific human as a pet, but the option would have been there, had he needed it.
Now he has to worry about the employee safety department of a blood donor service suspending his contract, yet it’s hard to worry about anything with Jesse grinning at him, hazy with his thrall and bleeding freely.
“You are definitely old as fuck,” Jesse says, words mumbled and barely coherent. “Gen- two of my clients are some pretty well-bred, pedigreed fancy vampire motherfuckers, and I thought their thralls were something, but goddamn.” Jesse rubs absently at Gabriel’s teeth marks in his throat, smearing the blood around, humming like it feels good. “I can’t— I’m not— I can’t drive like this.”
“What,” Gabriel starts, then smacks his lips and swallows and tries again, “what are their names? Your well-bred clients?”
Random vampires feeding on Jesse was bad enough, but someone old? Someone pedigreed? That was worse. Dangerous for Jesse.
Irritating for Gabriel.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jack asks, shoving at Gabriel’s shoulder in a way that manages to be accusing. “You’re not supposed to use your thrall, Gabriel, are you an idiot? Do you want to get blacklisted?” Jack sits down on the couch between Gabriel and Jesse, forcing Gabriel to move so he’ll fit. “Jesse, sweetheart, are you alright? Did he take too much?”
Jesse’s still smiling and rubbing at Gabriel’s bite. He shakes his head, hair falling in his eyes and fingers gory.
“Nah, it’s fine. Those… clients I was talkin’ about, they feed together. Take an awful lot sometimes. ‘M a little dizzy but I think that’s mostly the enthrallment. Hey, why’d you do that? You didn’t do that last time. I mean, there was a little bit but nothing like this. Not that I’m complaining. Long as you ain’t trying to kill me,” Jesse stretches and melts further into the couch, dopey grin and black eyes, “it’s real nice, actually.”
Gabriel frowns again, but he can’t really muster up a glare.
“I didn’t mean to. Or… I mean, I did mean to, but not like that. You shook it off so easy last time, it kinda pissed me off. Wanted to give you a taste of it but I hit you too hard.”
He hadn’t meant to say all that out loud— hadn’t meant to be so honest— but Jesse laughs, bright and open and beautiful.
“Yeah, you looked sorta mad when I left, I didn’t figure you’d book me again. You feel better now that your big bad thrall put me down?” It’s teasing.
Jesse’s so fucked up on his thrall that Gabriel doubts he can stand, but he’s still smirking and talking shit.
Gabriel hates the heat that shoots through him, arousal sharpening his teeth and making him hungry for something other than Jesse’s blood.
“Yes,” he snaps back, but it’s a lie. He doesn’t feel better. He wants Jesse boneless and begging underneath him, not laughing softly at his ego like Gabriel isn’t thousands of years old with oceans of blood on his hands.
Jack leans forward to block Jesse from his view and reaches out to lay a hand on his knee.
“Let me bring you something to eat. What do you like? I have banana bread and muffins and fruit, some yogurt and granola bars, some juice. Any preference?”
Jesse’s smile goes downright goofy.
“Awww, you got food for me, sunshine? You bring me anything you like, dealer’s choice. Orange juice is good for iron absorption, though. I got some… some special pills I’m s’posed to take when someone gets a little thirsty on me.”
Jack is already on his feet, Jesse fishing in his pocket for a pill bottle that rattles when he pulls it free. He fumbles with the lid for a moment before getting it open. Gabriel can scent the pills as he pours a few into his palm— the rusty smell of iron, a warm hint of biotics, some other vitamins mixed in that he can’t identify.
After a few minutes Jack comes back with a giant glass of orange juice and tray with a half dozen pastries, along with a small bowl of yogurt topped with nuts and granola and an assortment of different fruits. He sets it down on the table in front of Jesse and stands, hovering nearby like he isn’t sure what to do with himself.
“Eat as much as you want. I have some extra for you to take home, if you like.”
Jesse whistles low and hauls himself upright, taking his pills with a large swig of juice before pulling the tray closer.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do all this.” He picks up a blueberry muffin and sniffs it, making a noise that sounds distinctly sexual before taking an enormous bite. “You make this yourself, Jack?” Jesse asks with his mouth half full, taking another bite before Jack answers.
“Ah, yeah, the uh… the stuff at the store has all kinds of preservatives and dyes and I… thought this would be better.”
Jesse nods enthusiatically.
“S fucking delicious. Thank you. Real sweet of you.” Jesse winks at Jack, and Gabriel watches his cheeks heat with a scowl.
“No, it’s nothing. Your clients should be offering you some sort of hospitality after they feed.”
“Should they?” Gabriel asks dryly as Jesse starts working his way through a slice of banana nut bread, all but inhaling it. Jack glares at Gabriel, but it’s Jesse who speaks up first.
“I’m on a pretty strict diet plan, actually. Not supposed to eat anything else unless it’s offered by a client. I’ll certainly take you up on those extras, if that’s alright. They didn’t exactly specify that I had to eat it at a client’s house.”
Jesse’s phone buzzes before Jack can answer, and he pulls it from his pocket with a frown.
“Missed my usual check-in window,” Jesse says, tapping at his phone. It beeps shrilly at him a few times, and his frown deepens as he types. “Fuck, I got the code wrong. I can’t remember what today’s was supposed to be.”
“Aren’t your check-ins supposed to come after you leave a clients home?” Jack asks. Jesse shrugs as he continues to fiddle with his phone, the beeps increasing in volume each time.
“Yeah, but I mean. I don’t wanna get Gabriel in trouble when he didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”
Gabriel definitely meant something by it, but some of the fog from Jesse’s blood is fading, and he manages to bite his tongue.
“I don’t want you to get into trouble, either. What are you supposed to do when a client enthralls you but you aren’t in immediate danger?” Jack asks just as something on Jesse’s phone flashes red and then goes dark.
“Fuck, I’m locked out. I’m uh… I’m supposed to call my local DSS and have them come pick me up, and they talk to the client and ascertain whether they need to file a harassment report or assault charges.”
Gabriel holds back the laugh that wants to bubble up from his throat at the idea of the VEA trying to detain him on assault charges. Jack doesn’t look amused.
“Your DSS?”
Jesse sighs as he pulls something else up on his phone, fingers slow and awkward.
“Donor Safety Supervisor.”
Jack nods and gestures towards Jesse’s phone.
“Call him, then,” he says.
“What?” Jesse and Gabriel say in unison, both their voices incredulous. “No!” Jesse adds, trying to re-login to some app on his phone that Gabriel has to assume is related to his check-ins. “You really don’t want me—” Jesse’s phone rings, the screen lit up bright red. He sighs again. “Calling Lúcio.”
“Answer it,” Jack urges, even as Gabriel resists the urge to snatch it from his hands and crush it into a thousand pieces. “We’ll talk to him when he gets here, figure things out. You do what you’re supposed to do, Jesse.”
Jesse answers his phone with the air of a child who’s about to be scolded by someone with the power to take away all their toys.
“Hey, Lúcio.” There’s chatter on the other end that Gabriel can’t understand, which means Jesse is using some kind of tech to keep vampires from overhearing both halves of his conversations. It’s smart for someone in Jesse’s line of work.
It’s infuriating for Gabriel, who wants to know what the fuck this guy is saying.
“No, no, I’m fine, it’s just— yeah, I mean… just a little bit though, and it was an accident! You know how new clients get sometimes with my blood, it ain’t his fault. No, you don’t need to— listen just—” Jesse sighs again and drops his phone, the call already ended. “See you in a bit, I guess. Shit.”
“What did he say?” Jack asks, and Jesse leans back into the couch with a huff.
“Lúcio’s on his way. I don’t really think he’ll push me too hard on filing paperwork or blacklisting you, but he’ll definitely bitch me out all the way home.”
“That’s the only trouble you’ll get in? I don’t want you getting reprimanded on our behalf.”
Jack says our behalf, but what he means is Gabriel’s behalf. Jesse shrugs and grins.
“I mean… I’ll have to do safety retraining, but that ain’t so bad.”
Gabriel can scent the spike of arousal in Jesse, especially with Jesse’s blood running so thick in him.
“What’s that entail, exactly?” Gabriel asks, and Jesse licks his lips, eyes glittering.
“It’s exposure training. Lúcio will enthrall me a few times with increasing intensity to test my resistance, see how fast I can shake it off, make sure it’s within acceptable parameters.”
Gabriel scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“Oh, so he can enthrall you but no one else is allowed?”
Jack sighs and sits down in their recliner. Jesse snickers and picks up another muffin.
“Kinda sorta, yeah,” Jesse says with another shrug. “If I coulda remembered my damn check-in code for the day I wouldn’t’ve reported you, if it’s any consolation.”
Jesse picks his way through most of the food Jack brought and assures Jack that yes, he’s fine, no, he doesn’t need more juice, no, he’s not upset, please Jack you don’t have to apologize it’s really okay. He also fires off a dozen or so text messages, presumably trying to do damage control with his safety supervisor.
By the time Lúcio arrives Jesse is a little more coherent with a plastic container full of Jack’s pastries in his lap and a sleepy look in his eye. His supervisor is a vampire, which Gabriel expected.
He’s incredibly small, which Gabriel didn’t, but there’s a viciousness in his gaze that belies aggression. He’d be scrappy in a fight, Gabriel can tell.
He’s looking at Gabriel like he’d enjoy seeing his insides on the outside.
Jesse’s face lights up when he sees him and he staggers to his feet and crosses the room to throw his arms around Lúcio with a smile, pastry box held awkwardly in one hand.
“Lúcio! Thanks for coming to get me! It’s all good, we can be on our way,” Jesse says, trying to ease him out the door, but Lúcio stands his ground. His eyes are black. His claws are out.
Gabriel’s teeth feel sharp, and he has to breathe deliberately and suppress a snarl.
“Mr. Reyes,” he says, one palm on Jesse’s shoulder, the other on his own hip. “Jesse is convinced you didn’t mean any harm. I am not. I will respect his judgement this time, and refrain from filing any harassment reports, but I’m noting the incident in your client file and putting you on probationary terms. If Jesse misses a check-in, or anything else happens that makes me question his safety while he’s in your care, that’s it. One strike, you’re out, and blacklisting is an industry-wide system. You won’t just be banned from our service, you’ll be banned from every board certified donor program in the nation. It’s only on your husband’s recognizance that you’re getting any slack this time. Do I make myself clear?”
Gabriel breathes in slow. Breathes out slower. A thousand acidic things rise to the surface, ready to be spit at Lúcio’s feet.
Gabriel thinks of Jesse’s blood, and Jesse’s scent, and Jesse’s stupid fucking smile, and swallows them all.
“You do,” Gabriel says, the words sour in his mouth. “Won’t happen again, I assure you.”
It might happen again, but Lúcio won’t hear about it. Gabriel will make sure. Lúcio doesn’t seem entirely appeased, but he nods and turns to leave, Jesse leaning heavily on him.
“You’ll get an email with information about probationary terms, including the lengths of the probation and requirements to lift it. Have a nice day, Mr. Morrison. Mr. Reyes.”
Gabriel watches them make their way down the stone walkway. Jesse leans down and tucks his face into Lúcio’s hair, murmuring softly as he slides a hand into the back pocket of Lúcio’s jeans.
“This means you gotta retrain me, yeah?”
Lúcio sighs.
“Yeah, it sure does. I swear you used to be the best behaved donor! What happened to you?”
Jesse snickers, nosing through Lúcio’s dreadlocks, hunched over trying to get his mouth on skin.
“Gabriel’s a messy eater, ‘m still bleeding a little. You could have a taste, Lúci. It’d be real easy.”
Lúcio opens Jesse passenger door and manhandles him inside, pausing to brush his hair back out of his face.
“Think you lost enough already, yeah? You need a few days to recharge. You can wait for your retraining session.”
“Mmmmm,” Jesse hums, blatantly suggestive.
Lúcio shuts the door and looks over his shoulder at Jack and Gabriel, both of them crowded in the doorway watching, frowns on their faces. Gabriel’s eyes are black. Lúcio smirks at them, something smug and amused, before heading around the car and climbing into the driver’s seat. He peels out as he drives away, leaving black treadmarks marks on the driveway.
Jack is still scowling when Gabriel looks up.
“My feelings, huh?” Gabriel asks.
Jack glares at him and head back inside.