Made by: Earth_Fire_Skye

     If there’s one thing Dracula likes about playing golf with Gorilla, Bryce, and Satt, it’s the ability to piss said brunet off so much that he’s screaming silently, unable to form coherent words in his rage. Even if he’s losing horribly, even if he’s more than twenty strokes behind, there’s just something so damn satisfying about making Satt scream.

     The thing about making Satt mad though, even if he doesn’t live nearby, is the brunet is so gorgeous when he’s mad. When his cheeks are red with rage as he shrieks furiously; that’s when the human is the most gorgeous. And, even if he doesn’t live anywhere near Satt, he can still enjoy pissing him off and enjoy hearing his voice as he screams mindlessly, threatening about “staking his sorry ass”.

     It’s an inside joke between them all that is the kinda-sorta-maybe truth.

     Amusingly enough, Dracula is actually the ancient vampire of legend. Sure, he doesn’t drink blood out of a wineglass anymore—you’re more likely to find him drinking it straight out of the pouch like it’s a Capri Sun—and he actually does show up on mirrors and cameras now—something about silver no longer being used in their creation?—but he still has his fangs and claws and his bitchy attitude towards life.

     (If Dracula’s being dead honest, he screamed the first time he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He doesn’t like taking about it, nor will he ever admit that to anyone else.)

     The nice thing though, about being as old as he is, is that the sunlight no longer bothers him nearly as much as it used to. He no longer has to wield powerful illusion magic in an attempt to keep people from screaming. The less headaches and migraines he gets, the better. In fact, if he puts on a pair of sunglasses before he goes out, then he actually passes as human. Even then, red eyes aren’t that odd to see anymore, what with the contacts that exist nowadays.

     Then Satt invites him to move down to Texas with him, even goes as far as informing the vampire about the open apartments that are nearby, and Dracula’s suddenly extremely conflicted. Oh god, he desperatelywants to move in, live only a few doors down from the brunet, but he knows the temptation will be so much stronger. Satt would be within reach; he could fill him, fuck him, drink his blood.

     The idea is inviting, incredibly so, b ut Dracula knows he probably wouldn’t be able to resist.

     Of course, Dracula being Dracula, he moves down anyway, but doesn’t inform anyone of the change. He’ll do it later, once he’s gotten used to the absolutely horrible weather. It’s hot and humid, incredibly so, and spending more than five minutes outside turns his skin a horrible shade of red-gray that definitely ousts him as inhuman. It’s alarming how quickly Dracula slides back into his habit of avoiding the sun and wielding far too much illusion magic for his own good.

     Heaving a sigh, he yanks himself from his musings and turns back to the computer. The four of them are playing golf again and for the last minute or so, Satt has been trying and failing to get over a ramp. Bryce and Gorilla are already in the hole, spectating and giggling over what Satt will say when he discovers Dracula quietly lying in wait on the other side of the jump.

     Twenty seconds and three more attempts later, Satt finally, finally makes it across the gap, and Dracula can see the moment when his presence registers. Gray eyes blow wide and the brunet splutters, “Don’t you fuckingdare you son of a cunt!” just as Dracula clicks his mouse. Their golfballs collide with an audible sound and he bounces backwards into the hole; Satt, on the other hand, is launched clear across the map. “I’m going to stake your ass and rip you a new asshole!” he bellows as the ball lands and is reset and the sound of him slamming his mouse against his desk comes clearly through Dracula’s headphones.

     “Whoops,” the vampire says sweetly, lips peeling back to reveal sharp fangs, “my finger slipped,” and Gorilla and Bryce crack up into hysterical laughter.

     “Oh my god, that was beautiful,” the blond gasps, attempting to muffle his laughter with his hands. Gorilla is laughing so hard he’s snorting, head down on his desk as he tries and fails at catching his breath.

     “God fucking dammit, Dracula, you son of a motherfucking bitch!” Satt practically screams, absolute fury vibrating in his voice as the time finally runs out on him and he’s given a ‘14’ for that round. “You’re a cunt and I hate you!”

     “Aww,” Dracula coos, “but I thought you loved me~”

     “Not anymore!” The next hole loads up and the human groans softly at the sight of the jump on this one. “I swear to god, Drac, if you give me another fucking fourteen I’m quitting this motherfucking game!”

     Dracula can’t stop the pout that forms on his lips. “Then who would I play with? Gorilla and Brycie aren’t nearly as much fun.”

     Satt snarls furiously and smacks his desk once more. “So help me god, if you were down here in Texas with me, I’d stake you right through the heart.”

     “Uh...” Dracula twitches slightly. “About that.” He winces in his seat at the weird look Satt shoots his blank facecam, then sheepishly adds, “I actually moved down to Texas about a week ago… My apartment is like three doors down from yours.”

     “Excuse me, what?” Satt asks, lips peeling back in a feral snarl. “Did you just allude to moving down here without telling me? That you’re my neighbor?”

     “I was getting used to the weather, dammit!” Dracula sniffs and then shrugs. “It’s horribly humid down here and I’m having issues adjusting. You know, being a vampire and all. Ugh, I have never been more thankful for the existence of sunglasses.”

     Gorilla rolls his eyes. “Yes, Drac, we know you’re a vampire. It’s a really funny story. ”

     Dracula snorts and stretches lazily. Staying consistent with the idea that he’s a vampire and doesn’t show up on screen, he doesn’t use a facecam, even with his friends, so absolutely no one really knows what he looks like. “ Yeah,” he says flatly, “funny story,” and reaches up to shift his headphones enough s o he can run a hand through black hair.

     “Yeah right,” Satt mutters, and Dracula immediately takes advantage of his distractedness and bops his golfball straight off of the edge.

     For a split second there’s dead silence as it’s reset and then Satt screams his name, smashes his mouse down, and Dracula can hear the noise from where he’s sitting in his recording room. Heavy footsteps sound down the hall and then there’s a furious banging on his door. “Open up, you son of a bitch!” Satt bellows and Dracula pinches the bridge of his nose. Through his headphones he can hear Gorilla and Bryce laughing—the damn bastards—and he reaches over to log out and shut his own computer down.

     “Motherfucker,” he mutters.

oOo

     Satt storms down the hallway, fury burning through his every vein, and bangs on the door he’s pretty sure belongs to Dracula. “Open up, you son of a bitch!” he bellows.

     The lock clicks and then the door slowly slides open. “For the love of god, Satt,” the man on the other side sniffs, “will you please control your temper?” and the brunet snarls and slaps it open.

     “You listen here, you son of a--” he snarls, poking his finger into a broad chest, and a warm chuckle meets his ears. Slowly he shifts his gaze to meet warm, red ones, and his eyes widen. “Dracula?”

     “Yes, Sattelizer?” Pale lips—even paler than his own in the middle of winter—peel back into a smile and reveal sharp fangs. Satt slowly lifts a finger to brush against them, curiosity in every line of his frame, and the vampire laughs softly.

     “Are these real?”

     A dark eyebrow raises slowly and he laughs again. “I thought you were here to yell at me about the game?”

     Oh, right , Satt thinks and immediately lashes out. “You’re a shit-head, I hope you realize that,” he mutters. Dracula catches his hand with almost careless ease and pulls him close, wrapping an arm around his waist.

     “Such a pretty thing,” Dracula tells him and his smile is so much more feral than it was earlier. Satt backs up slowly, presses his back against a nearby wall, and the vampire smirks as he closes and locks the door. The sound of the bolt sliding into place should not be as arousing as it is, and the brunet licks his lips. “Such a pretty little human.” Dracula’s mouth slides along Satt’s neck, fangs brushing against his skin, and the brunet shudders within his grip. He can feel the teeth sinking into his skin, can feel the faint drip of blood down his shoulder, and the vampire hums softly as he feeds. Dracula pulls with and runs his tongue over Satt’s neck, nipping softly at his skin as he seals the bite shut. “God, you taste good.”

     The sound Satt makes is high pitched and needy, and he knows his cheeks are flushed red with blood. “Please...” he manages, and the vampire hauls him up, wrapping long legs around his waist as he presses his back against the wall, hands gripping his ass tightly.

     “Whatever you want, pretty, I shall give,” he purrs grinding their hips together, and Satt breathes in sharply, and tilts his head back. He can faintly see smears of red on his neck in a nearby mirror—and boy is it a surprise to see Dracula actually reflecting in it—and goddamn does he like the fact that Dracula can haul him up so easily. “In fact, I think I’ll have you right here, right now.” Long claws sink into Satt’s pants and rip them open, shredding the fabric with ease, and the vampire smirks as he drags the scraps down and away from his legs. “God, I want to fuck you on a bed, but I’m too impatient to wait.”

     Satt arches against him as best he can, body trapped between the wall and the rock that is Dracula, and keens deep in his throat. Dracula snarls and snaps the fingers of one hand , a bottle appearing between his pinched fingers, and he pops it open and slicks the digits. The bottle vanishes without a sound and Satt can feel the slick digits as they begin stretching him open. Dracula buries his face against his neck, sucking hungrily at the skin, and Satt is pretty damn sure he’ll have bruises later.

     (Oh, god, explaining the marks to Gorilla or Bryce or even his streamers is going to be an absolute nightmare. And that’s not even talking about the bite marks that he knows will be there.)

     He can feel the fingers inside of himself, can feel the way they quickly work him open, and Satt tightens the grip he has on broad shoulders. “ Will you fucking fuck me already?!” he snaps and gasps when teeth sink into his skin once more.

     “If you’re so damn impatient, then I’ll do it,” Dracula hisses as he yanks his fingers out, and shifts Satt’s weight so he can rip his pants open. He slicks himself up and moves the head of his cock into place, pressing it in with a wet, popping noise. Satt arches against him with a gasp as he slides in completely, their hips pressing together, and Dracula sinks his teeth back into his neck perfectly in time with his first thrust.

     Satt can feel him drinking greedily, can feel the suction on his neck, and he tilts it to give him more room, even as he keens at the sensation. “Oh, fuck ,” he gasps, and if he could spread his legs farther he would. Dracula’s thrusts are sharp and deep and practically shoving him into the wall, and it’s all Satt can do to hold on.

     Dracula pulls back and there’s blood staining his lips, smearing pale skin with red, and he smashes their mouths together, shoving his tongue past Satt’s lips and tasting the inside. He snaps his hips upwards sharply, fingers digging into the flesh of Satt’s thighs, and steals another kiss. “Mine now, I think.”

     The brunet keens softly and reaches out to cup the back of the vampire’s head, pulling him back into a kiss and deepening it as much as he can. He has lubricant dribbling out of him, dripping down onto the floor beneath them, and Satt knows full well that cum will soon follow. It’s definitely something he’s looking forward to.

     (Privately, somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Satt wonders if Dracula’s cum will be just as hot as a humans, or if it’s temperature will be on the cooler side.)

     ((Well, he supposes the only way to know is to find out.))

     Satt smirks into the kiss and clenches, clamping down on the cock buried inside of himself, and nearly laughs when Dracula breaks the kiss to snarl words he doesn’t understand. They’re rough and thick, almost slurred because his accent has become so strong, and Satt nearly cheers in victory. He does it again, and then again because he can, and can feel claws digging into his hips, can feel the blood beginning to trickle up, and he doesn’t really care about that pain. Not when he mostly has Dracula at his mercy.

     “What’s the matter, Drac? Having trouble?”

     “You little cock-tease,” Dracula spits, and shoves him further up against the wall, picking up the pace of his thrusts. They’re punishing now, the sound of skin meeting skin so much louder in the room, and Satt grins in victory, clamping down even tighter.

     He can tell when Dracula’s about to peak, because the vampire begins mouthing his neck again, lapping hungrily at the older bitemarks with a need that’s unparalleled. “Go ahead,” Satt manages, tucking his face in closer. “ Fill me .”

     Dracula snarls, feral and deep, his eyes a blaze of red that lights the pale flesh nearby with an eerie glow, and shoves in as far as he can. His teeth bite deep into Satt’s skin, sinking into the junction where shoulder meets neck, and a low rumble fills his chest as he cums. Satt can feel both, can feel the rush of slick inside of himself and the way his blood is pulled, and he doesn’t even try to stop his own orgasm. It rushes over him and he tips over the edge, lips parted but no sound emerges, and spills across their stomachs, white painting trails up onto their chests. Dracula falls still, though his hips still jerk slightly, and slowly removes his fangs, lapping gently at the vicious bite.

     Satt whines softly, overwhelmed at the sensations, and just relaxes against the wall. “Goddamn,” he manages.

     “Yes,” Dracula agrees, pulling away from his neck to brush their lips together. “That was— That was fantastic.” His lips twitch upwards in a sly smirk and he then adds, “I shall have to piss you off more often.”

     And Satt decides that he’s entirely justified in slapping him upside the head.