Chapter Text
Gus’s evenings, now a far cry from his days in Harlem carefully navigating the junkies and gangbangers, now consisted of training. From 4 until 9:30 pm, all he knew now was target practice, hand-to-hand combat, and the life cycles and habits of the strigoi. He knew the scourge (because really, what word could better describe it?) inside and out from infection to the breakdown and finally to the reformation of tissue, and he swears he will never drink milk again, not after seeing that shit, that blood, pouring out of those vamps.
The drills, though, they weren’t so bad. Sure, he hated the ones where Vaun would swing a whip at him in an effort to simulate the fear when faced with a stinger, or shut the lights off with no warning so he couldn’t see, or have one of his men come at Gus from the side, simulating a confrontation in the city with the infected. But the sparring drills...
He didn’t mind those at all.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday were sparring nights. And tonight just happened to be Saturday. It was 7 pm, three hours into their training session, and Vaun had him backed into a corner. Literally. The 90 degree angle of the concrete at his back was drawing in his shoulders and limiting his movement, freezing cold against the muscles in his back, and really starting to piss him off. He threw his weight forward and the concrete may as well have been in front of him for all the ground he gained. There was a hard shoulder to his chest, knocking the wind out of him.
He threw a completely ineffective right hook and connected with his opponent’s chin, but all it earned him was a sound that Gus couldn’t confidently label a grunt as opposed to a chuckle. He raised his chin slightly to suck in a breath, and his head was pushed violently upward, his recoil blocked by something deceptively soft but dangerously sharp, as he knew.
‘Don’t hesitate. You hesitate, you’re food.’ Vaun’s raspy voice was in his ear, and Gus could swear he was about to die from Vaun’s body heat, radiating into his bones.
‘Back off, pendejo. I give, I give,’ Gus choked out and the weapon as his throat retreated. Vaun backed away, to give him some space, and walked to the wall, throwing Gus a bottle of water and a towel as he racked his sword. The tank top Vaun was wearing was plastered to his skin with sweat, but he made no move to remove it.
Gus drank deeply, and poured the remaining mouthfuls over his back and shoulders. He dried his face with the towel and looked at Vaun. ‘Man, we’re heading over to the neighborhood tonight, aren’t we? That’s why you’re being such an asshole tonight, right?’ he asked, not bothering with diplomacy in his dealings with this near-immortal warrior.
The question went unanswered, which only served to further infuriate him. Vaun was staring intently, not blinking, expecting Gus to just intuit what he is fucking thinking, why he is treating him like a bratty child, like Vaun didn’t just burn under the lamps in Palmer’s penthouse two weeks ago. Tonight was their first training session together since then, the first time Gus had even seen him, and Vaun was giving him the fuckin bones tonight, man.
‘Of course it is. Nothing weakens a human’s resolve quite as effectively as seeing its own Dear Ones coming for their blood.’
Gus’s head snapped to the left and he glared at the Born standing in the entrance to their ‘training area.’ Despite the order from Vaun that no one was to interrupt the new Sun Hunter’s training sessions, Quinlan merely stood there as if they had called him and had grievously inconvenienced him by doing so. Gus respected his fighting skills, but he was pretty sure he hated this puto.
‘Don’t remember inviting you tonight, Q,’ Gus snapped.
An amused smile slowly spread across Quinlan’s face and he indulgently replied, ‘I can already see it is fortunate that I came.’ What an asshole.
His movement was smooth and light, yet dangerous; like a jungle cat stalking its prey. He kept his eyes on Gus as he approached them, and Gus swore he could hear tiny growls escaping Vaun’s throat. Quinlan ceased his movement, and from his place, he was neither too close nor far enough away; Gus could feel the heat of him and despite it, a shiver ran down his spine under the stare of those ice-blue killer’s eyes.
‘He should have been an asshole the whole time. Harlem was one of the first areas hit, and the strigoi there will not be the bumbling infants as in Manhattan,’ Quinlan purred. He sent his eyes down the human’s body and back up, assessing him and Gus clenched his jaw and tilted his head upward toward Quinlan, refusing to back down. Man, what an asshole, Gus thought again. Quinlan was silent for long enough that it was about to become uncomfortable. Still holding Gus’s stare, he said,
‘Protecting your new pet from all of the frightening things in the night is doing him no favors, Vaun. At least fight with the same frenzy that the young strigoi will.’ Finally he turned his icy stare to Vaun and jabbed, ‘Of course, if you are still too weak, I would be happy to train your new… Sun Hunter.’ Gus could feel his hackles raise at the words and open his mouth to speak but was interrupted.
This time there was no mistaking the growls for what they were. Gus could practically see the heat boiling off of Vaun, and his stare drilled into the side of Quinlan’s head. Instead of ignoring Vaun’s reaction, Quinlan smirked and turned to leave with so much self-satisfaction, it was practically dripping off of him.
‘The Ancients gave you your own job to do, Quinlan.’ Vaun said as Quinlan passed him. The Born came to a stop and faced him. Gus knew that Quinlan hated being sent to task by the Ancients, and the tension between the two warriors was thick enough to chew. After an eternity, Quinlan smirked, and once again turned toward the exit.
‘Better call it an early night, Vaun. I imagine you tire easily in your state,’ Quinlan threw over his shoulder.
Vaun growled again and moved toward Quinlan’s back, but Gus stopped his advance with an arm across his chest. ‘Not tonight. We got shit to do,’ the Mexican said.
Quinlan gave a low chuckle on his way out the door, and Gus finally released his hold on Vaun.
‘What an asshole.’ Gus thought aloud.
‘He is right,’ Vaun said, and for a moment Gus thought he meant quitting early, and his heart sped up at the thought of Vaun weakening, but then he continued, ‘I have been taking it too easy on you. I’ve been delaying telling you certain things, and doing so will not make them untrue.’
‘What the fuck, man, don’t let him—‘Gus started, but was cut off.
‘Your mother will be hunting you now. She won’t be like you last saw her. She will attack you, and you will have to defend yourself. You will have to destroy her.’ Vaun was clearly avoiding the topic of his recovery, and it Gus was starting to feel his own blood heating up.
‘Vaun,’ he practically yelled, and was cut off again.
‘The Master will see you through her. She may speak to you, in her own voice, but make no mistake, it will be the Master’s words, his lies coming out of her. I should have prepared you for that sooner.’
Gus practically choked on his retort. He didn’t know that could happen. He hadn’t heard his madre’s voice in--. It didn’t matter.
‘Your training is done for tonight. Get something to eat; we head out in 2 hours.’ Vaun stalked toward the exit.
‘Nah-uh, no fuckin way, Vaun,’ Gus growled as he caught his arm. Without warning, Vaun turned on him and threw a right hook. Gus jerked backwards, but not soon enough. Vaun’s fist connected with the side of his head and he faltered a step, before recovering in time to block the next blow with his right forearm.
Their sparring continued to build to an almost frantic pace, each of them throwing and blocking and dodging the other’s hits. Sweat was running down Gus’s back and sides, and pouring down his forehead stinging his eyes, and his muscles were working so quickly he thought he could feel each individual strand of muscle clenching and pulling. His breath was coming in fast, heavy inhalations, but he kept his head low. He faked right but snuck in a quick jab with his left that had Vaun stumbling backwards. Gus saw the opportunity and seized Vaun’s right arm, spinning himself underneath it and bringing it up behind his back in one fluid movement. With a grunt he shoved forward, and had Vaun pinned to the wall.
‘You’re gonna talk to me!’ Gus demanded. The only response was quiet clicking from Vaun’s stinger. Gus took a moment to reset his feet, and Vaun saw his window, his movements so fast, Gus could not even track them. Gus’s face connected with the cold concrete wall and he felt the Vaun’s weight at his back, and it felt like his shoulder was about to break from the angle he was holding it. Gus grunted, but did not cry out. He struggled against Vaun, but it was like pushing against another wall.
‘Be still!’ Vaun growled, and there was no mistaking it for anything but a command.
Immediately, Gus ceased his struggle, Vaun’s tone sending some kind of jolt through his torso and down his legs. Vaun shifted his body minutely closer, and suddenly Gus was aware of everything. The coolness of the wall at his front was in sharp contrast to the stifling heat at his back. He could feel the claws on Vaun’s extended middle fingers digging in to the skin on his back and shoulder where he held Gus’s body immobile. Vaun’s hot breath ghosted along Gus’s neck and jaw, and Gus realized that he was smelling him. That knowledge, coupled with the fact he could hear the growls and purrs coming from Vaun right next to his ear, this time Gus felt the little jolt go straight to his cock. Unconsciously, Gus let his eyes slip closed as he tilted his head, allowing for greater access to his neck.
The noises from Vaun’s stinger increased in both volume and frequency, and the way he slid the tips of his lips up along Gus’s ear had his heart pounding and the blood rushing south. There was a small sound, a creaking or (opening) stretching that took Gus a moment to identify as Vaun’s stinger getting ready to be released. He could hear his pulse hammering in his own hears and could only imagine how it sounded to Vaun, and he lessened his breathing in anticipation.
Is he really going to drink me? Why don’t I give a shit?
Gus felt the stinger brush against his jaw, no more than a tickle, before there was an almost vicious growl in his ear, and the weight at his back was abruptly gone. The release of pressure on his shoulder was almost more painful than having it pinned and with a gasp he caught himself against the wall, grimacing.
He stood up and took a brief moment to right himself, giving his dick a little mental pep-talk. Though he could still feel Vaun’s heat at his back, he was still surprised to find him so close when he turned around. Vaun brought his eyes up to meet his and Gus felt like his fucking soul was melting under that stare. Both breathing heavily, neither one willing to move a muscle, the air so static he could feel the hair on his arms standing up, the anticipation driving him mad. He swallowed hard and watched as Vaun followed the movement with his eyes, releasing an absolutely primal sound somewhere between a moan and a whine as he did so.
Vaun’s eyes narrowed and with a movement that could only be described as predatory, he closed the distance between them, crashing their lips together in a mess of sweat, lips, and teeth. Vaun pressed his body flush against Gus, his hips digging into his pelvis, one impossibly hot thigh shoved between his legs, and his hands braced against the wall on either side of Gus’s head. Instantly, Gus’s dick filled with blood from the friction, and coupled with the heat, left him lightheaded.
A searing hot tongue invaded his mouth, and he parted his lips further to allow Vaun better access. He tasted different than the women Gus had kissed. While their mouths had been warm and sweet, Vaun’s was sweltering, and tasted somehow alkaline. Gus brought his hands up, one gripping Vaun’s upper arm and the other moving to the back of his neck.
Gus dug his nails into the meat on the back of Vaun’s arm, and the muscle felt like steel. He could imagine what it would feel like to have that smooth, burning skin pressed against every inch of him. He broke their kiss to suck in a breath of superheated air, and let a small moan escape.
Vaun went rigid against him, and for an instant nothing happened. Then he abruptly released Gus, turned around and stalked out of the room, agitation bleeding out of him. Gus was only able to stand there, shocked and incredibly disappointed in the sudden halt in their activities. .
‘Vaun-‘ He was breathing heavier than he had ever in his life, he truly believed, and found his voice only a moment too late, as his call of Vaun’s name was muffled by the sound of the door slamming behind him. His frustration boiled over as he struggled to understand what exactly just happened, why he just walked out, and then now he was pissed, just royally heated, and he snatched up another bottle of water, hurling it at the wall in anger.
The sound it made as it burst against the wall was not nearly as satisfying as Gus had hoped.