Work Text:
11:58..
11:59…
12.
victor blake stalked the clock like a hunting cat, awaiting midnight to mark the beginning of his birthday. it was a mundane birthday, just another year added onto his many. he sighed and shut off his phone as the date read: july 3.
as he looked around the dimly lit master bedroom, blake realized not much had changed. the left side of the bed was still empty, and the martini he had left on the counter was still untouched.
victor groaned while reaching over to take a cigar out of the bedside drawer, quietly snickering under his breath like a scheming child.
he lit the cigar, closing his eyes in relief as his soul was washed over with a rush of dopamine. blake mischievously smiled as he opened one eye.
« gonna scold me vincent? » he said to himself with amusement, before being met with dead silence.
right..vincent was gone, and had been gone for months. and here victor was, anticipating his return every night to no avail.
victor realized it was only him and the smoke of his cigar in the entirety of vincent’s mansion.
*knock*
*knock*
blake’s blood ran cold as he heard the echo of knocks on the grand doors of the mansion. who could that be at this late hour? don’t they have any regard for the fact that he could’ve been asleep? (that’s a lie, blake hasn’t slept much at all these last few months).
the beating of his heart merely overshadowed the fierce pounding on the door. he crept down the creaky stairs and through the foyer of the mansion.
victor held out a shaky, sweating hand as he reached for the doorknob.
« ..vincent? »
standing in front of him in the drizzling rain, was almost shell of vincent before he had departed. his usual proper and put together manner had been destroyed entirely.
his raven black hair was matted with something to be resonant with sickly sweet cherry syrup. not only had his eye bags and cheekbones darkened, but his porcelain skin was littered with cuts, bruises, scratches and..wires?
« vincent..ce qui s’est passé..? » (what happened?)
vincent didn’t respond though, his face only darkened into an expression of misery and anguish.
« seriously vincent, who did this to you? » victor repeated himself with a stern tone.
« désolé d’avoir manqué ton anniversaire, victor. » (sorry for missing your birthday.)
for once, victor didn’t find humor in avoiding questions. he reached out his robotic arm towards vincent, similar to how one would coax a cat.
vincent hardly hesitated before nuzzling victors cold hand. somehow, vincent’s skin was colder than victors metal arm.
»come on vince, i’ll get you cleaned up. »
« you can’t clean me, im ruined now victor. »
« what do you mean dear? »
« i mean that they stripped me of my humanity. »
victor sighed softly and shook his head. « «nonsense vincent, i use robotic prosthetics and i would consider myself human. »
« no..you don’t get it, they ruined me to where i must eat human flesh to survive. »
« ce que? » (what?)
« oui, je suis ruiné. » (yes, im ruined.)
victor cusped his ice cold hand gently while leading him upstairs to the bathroom.
« tout ira bien, je t’aime vincent. » (everything will be ok, i love you.)
vincent only swallowed in guilt and regret, especially now that the aftertaste of flesh was noticeable.
« se détendre cher. » (relax dear.)
« d’accord. » (okay.)
blake ran a bath for the pale man looming over him, looking worse than death. victor genuinely considered if he was hallucinating his dead decaying body once or twice.
« is this alright? » victor said, feeling the water with his prosthetic arm.
« yes, thank you victor. » vincent rasped out with a chalky tone.
unfortunately, there was not much room for the scene to be loving and wholesome, as vincent’s broken and cracked cries rung throughout the mansion as victor cleaned his many, intense wounds.
blake almost couldn’t tell what he was looking at, as there were wires, screws, bolts, and scars littering his previously pristine body. it seemed as if the wires were stuck healed in between his pale skin. it was much easier to make out what he was looking at when vincent was no longer covered in dried brownish-red blood.
by the time he had cleaned off vincent, the entirety of the bath had turned into a sickening red mess. victor wanted to vomit.
the strong iron and iodine scent wasn’t helping his nausea much either.
« vincent, qui a fait cela? » (who did this?)
he coughed weakly before responding in a broken voice « it was monsieur M, he experimented on me following a near fatal car accident. he turned me into a flesh eating monster, victor i need you to.. »
« ce que mon cher? » (what my dear?)
« peux-tu tuer pour moi? » (can you kill for me?)
victors face turned white. « vincent.. »
« it’s the only way i can survive, i cannot eat real food, ive tried. »
blake bit his lip in frustration. he knew deep down he would do anything for his vincent to survive, even if it meant at the cost of others, he had already lost him once, and he couldn’t lose him again.
victor carried the weakened version of vincent over his shoulder, despite the awkward height difference. he could only hear the husky breathing coming from the man above him as they walked.
he placed vincent on the bed gently.
« je vais panser vos blessures, d’accord? » (im going to dress your wounds, okay?)
vincent only nodded, absent minded.
blake worked excessively through out the night, taping and wrapping various wounds all over his lanky figure. he had no idea how vincent had managed to crawl home with the state he was in.
« merci, victor. » (thank you.) he said with a rasp.
« bien sûr chouchou. » (of course sweetheart.)
victor turned off the lamp, and climbed into bed with vincent who was watching him idly.
« if you need anything im right here, okay? »
« d’accord, t’aimer. » (okay, love you.)
« je t’aime aussi vincent. » (i love you too.)
it wasn’t until victor blake was laying with vincent’s still, breathing body that he realized the one thing he had truly begged for on his birthday was granted and handed to him on a silver platter. even if it meant vincent wouldn’t be the same ever again, that didn’t matter to victor.
what mattered to victor was he could still smell the sharp cologne and coffee aroma in his black locks as they slept.