Thanks! (I was worried over char. limits, but instead of cutting it in half, I needed to cut it at a scene break, so yeah, the first part wound up quite short and with far more questions than answers, but here's the rest!) ~~~Die Unstillbare Gier 2/2~~~ That night, they meet out on the battlements. The dead have been cleared from the fields. Few casualties that day, already gathered by their respective sides and laid out carefully. Burial had to wait for the weekend. "Most stories just that-- stories." Heavy tells him, as they walk. "Die if head is cut off, though, I think. At least... even if not so, what can you do with no head? Cannot move around. Would be stuck. But, probably, this kills you. So, be careful of enemy Demoman with sword, be careful of enemy Medic with saws." "I am used to being careful of all my enemies." Medic reminds him gently. "Good. But bullets will not hurt. Scouts with bats not hurt. Fire hurts. Could still kill you, if you can not put out." "Wooden stakes?" "Depends on kind of wood." Heavy shrugs. They reach their dead. "But no one on battlefield going to stake Doktor through heart or use silver bullet." "... Silver bullets are for werewolves." Heavy laughs, suddenly and so loudly that Medic worries their teammates will come out to see what the cause for mirth is. "Doktor, no such thing as werewolves. Show you how to feed-- is okay that these are teammates? Cannot reach BLU cowards after battle ends." "I suppose it doesn't matter to me." He steels himself. "Blood is blood." It is not as though he is unfamiliar with the sight, the smell, even the taste of it. He's just never... subsisted on it before. Heavy grabs the arm of their fallen Scout. He whispers something-- the tone is apologetic, even if the words are foreign-- and then Medic can only watch as he bites into the inside of the boy's elbow and laps at the spot. The boy has been dead some time, most of his blood has settled or congealed, but it seems the Heavy is able to draw enough. He beckons the Medic over, places the arm in his hands. "Drink," His hand strokes Medic's hair. Not much comes easy, but the Medic is surprised at how much he enjoys what does come. And while there is not much, he does not need much. "You only need little bit, now and then. Can still live like normal, in front of others. No one has to know." "But... how did I not see? I've listened to your heart beat!" "Is tricky." Heavy smiles. "Can teach you, if you want to know. Just need to focus." "When did you become-- like this? And why me?" "Became like this... long time ago. Old man I know once in gulag, see him drink from other prisoners, little bit. Remember this. We meet again later. He makes me like this. Stronger. I am okay with change. He tells me some are not. Did not know if Doktor would be, but... would die otherwise. And... could not lose you." "Oh." He feels warm, and he cannot tell if it is a side-effect of the blood drinking, or if it is from the big hand that still rests high on his back, that reaches up to pet at his head again. "Come back inside. More to tell... but not out here." Medic nods, follows him back in to his room on the base. "You want to know how it happens, yes? I know you, Doktor..." He chuckles softly. "Like to know how things work. Especially these things. Things with blood, is your job to know, so... Let me show you," Medic can only nod again, as Heavy undoes his tie and collar, strokes his throat. He can feel teeth against his skin, but pain doesn't come. He just feels Heavy's tongue laving over him, slick and wet, too much so. There is a kiss to the spot, and then Heavy presses his thumb there and draws back, mouth red. "You can still drink my blood? Aren't-- aren't I like you now, though?" Medic feels light-headed. He feels warm again, too. "And you mine." Heavy strips one glove off. There is an old faint scar on his wrist, and he cuts into the skin with his teeth, just alongside the scar. He offers his wrist, blood welling up on the cut. Medic leans forward, one hand holding his tie in place. He feels silly, too dainty, and once the Heavy's blood touches his lips, he abandons restraint. It seems ten times sweeter, and he wonders if it is not just from being fresh-- if one could call a vampire's blood fresh. The heady feeling that feeding had brought with it before is stronger, and he moans. "This part is easier with Doktor awake." Heavy says, leaning in close. "More fun, also. Shh, enough," Medic pulls back. "I'm sorry--" "Nyet, not to be sorry for. But... you feel what this is like. Felt when I drank from you," "Was... was it like that... when you became a vampire?" A small wave of revulsion washes over the Medic, thinking of some old man doing to his Heavy what he had been doing, feeling the same things and having the same thoughts. "Only little bit. Like it always feels good to drink. But not... not same exactly. Is better with you... because you are Doktor. Because... have always loved Doktor. But if you keep doing this to me, might lose control a little bit." Medic takes Heavy's hand and lifts it to his lips, his tongue tracing over the already-healing cut on the wrist. "Good. I want you to..." Heavy groans, grabbing Medic into a hard kiss and tearing at his clothes. Once he has the doctor naked on his bed, he undresses as well, looming over the smaller man, cock in one hand. "Maybe you can do something else with your mouth," He suggests. Medic moans and reaches for him. His head still buzzes lightly, there is a heat in the pit of his stomach that is half blood and half arousal. For a moment it is strange, not to feel his pulse race at it all, but after only a little concentration, he can feel it kick in, after a little concentration he can feel whatever remains of his own blood rapidly rushing to fuel his own erection. His mouth stretches wide to accommodate the Heavy's girth. At first he tries too hard to remember to breathe through his nose before discovering breath is a thing he no longer requires. His pulse quits him when his attention wavers, the erection flags somewhat but remains. The whole thing is fascinating, from a scientist's standpoint, but he cannot give science much attention, not while his focus is centered on the Heavy. There is no ejaculate to mark the end, just a hoarse cry and a hand gripping his shoulder, and the cock in his mouth softening. He is not quite through tracing the logic of it all when the Heavy's mouth surrounds him in turn and he gets to experience his own first post-mortem orgasm. In many ways, not so different. He can still feel it build the same way, he still enjoys the same sensations. The major difference seems to be in the conscious effort required to sustain the flow of his blood. When the pleasure becomes too great and his attention becomes too fragmented, the sensations are all the same. The feeling afterward is the same, sleepy and contented and somewhat daft and fuzzy. The Heavy gathers him up into an embrace. "This will be good." He whispers the promise. "On battlefield, we will be unstoppable. BLUs will have nothing to fight us. Now when you must fight, you are stronger. You can pick up baby men and throw like doll. Will not have to worry when we are not together, know you will be safe. Now you know my secret, also, do not have to waste healing on me. I am strong. I can take damage. Heal in sleep. Protect others. You will get better. Be able to feed on battlefield sometimes. Just have to make sure no one sees. Is better to drink from enemy, not from friend. From enemy or from lover." "Yes," Medic sighs. He's surprised by just how much he loves the idea, how he looks forward to having an attacker come upon him when he is separated from the team, seizing the man by the throat and draining him of his life. He longs to. And then... the curious new foreplay, he longs to return to that as well, to tasting the Heavy, then making love to him. As confusing and as frightening as he thought the whole thing was at first, he is beginning to think he was born for this. He has never been shy around blood, after all...