Fic: Hunger

[sermocinare]

Fandom: Watchmen
Pairings/Characters: Adrian Veidt/Dan Dreiberg
Rating: R
Summary: A rare form of lycanthropy turns Adrian into a leopard on each full moon, which makes his life just that little bit more complicated than it already is. Especially when it is mating season.
Warnings: doubious consent, rough sex, light gore, references supernatural murder
Author's note: Originally written for the kinkmeme. Unlike the one where Byron is a werewolf, this is actually quite dark. 

It was a safe bet to say that every vigilante had some scars on his or her body, and Ozymandias was no exception. Sometimes, his companion for the night would ask him about the story behind this or that particular scar, and Adrian would indulge them, giving them a few words or the full story, depending on his mood and their performance. The only exception to that rule were the thin, parallel lines on his ribs and the series of puncture marks on his left shoulder, which would without fail be explained away with a dismissive wave of the hand and the explanation that he had been attacked by a dog when he was still a teenager.

The fact of the matter was, though, that the events that had left him with those scars were what had turned his life around. The trauma of a bullet wound was easily overcome. The curse of lycanthropy, on the other hand, was forever.

Although Adrian was admittedly hesitant to call it that, even in his own mind. For one, he did not change into a wolf at full moon. He did change on the days around full moon, yes, but his fully changed form was that of a leopard, the animal that had attacked and bitten him on his journey through India. He usually did not undergo a full transformation, either. Depending on the astronomical circumstances surrounding the full moon, he would sometimes just grow fangs and claws, his eyes turning from greenish-blue to yellow, the pupils slitted like a cat's. Other times, he would change into something half man, half beast, a leopard man who stalked on two crooked, pawed legs. Full transformations were rare, and he counted that as one of the few blessings of his curse, since the pain of the shifting bones and muscles was something he dreaded every time. A half transformation was a lot easier to take.

Adrian had also had considerable trouble with accepting that yes, there seemed to be no scientific explanation for this. His brilliant, logical mind had worked at the problem from every angle, to no avail. There was no virus in his bloodstream, no strange hormonal changes, and his genes were 100% human. There was no other realm to turn to but the supernatural. It was, for all intents and purposes, a curse.

Of course, he had tried to find a cure. He had tried everything, from herbs to high-tech, but in the end, nothing seemed to work. Adrian would not count his experiments with genetic manipulation as a failure, though. After all, they had given him Bubuastis, his darling girl, his loyal companion both in his human and his more animalistic forms. Normal animals seemed to sense that there was something off about him, avoiding him as much as they could, but Bubastis had never had those reservations.

After years of experimentation, Adrian had finally accepted his fate. Nowadays, he was at least able to control the exact timing of the onset of his transformation through meditation and mental control, no longer having to worry about starting a transformation in the middle of a business dinner. It made his social life a lot easier.

But no amount of meditating and breathing exercises could help Adrian cope with the heat. It was probably the part of his curse that he loathed most. At some point during the height of summer, his sex drive would spiral upwards until he could hardly think of anything else. For the most part, this was a simple annoyance that could be dealt with by masturbating. A lot. Adrian didn't like taking partners during these times, since they invariably coincided with the days where he transformed, and he was weary of losing control of his form during sex. But there was always one day where his own hand was no longer enough to satisfy him.

When the moon was full and he was in heat, Adrian needed a mate, needed someone to fuck, or he would snap. And that was never a good thing, as he had found out when he had, for the first time, woken up covered in blood. It had not surprised him when, the next day, the papers had printed a story about a couple who had been found in Central Park, their bodies ripped to shreds as if by some monster right out of a cheap horror movie. He had been shocked, disgusted and almost paralyzed with guilt, but not surprised, and he had vowed that this would never happen again.

As with everything Adrian Veidt set his mind to, this, too, had been accomplished. True, one or two of his partners had had to die, because they had seen his transformation. But they had always died an easy, humane death, one not involving having their veins ripped open and their guts torn out, and Adrian had seen to it that any loved ones they had were taken care of.

It had been a bad idea to come here tonight, Adrian realized not even halfway through the meeting. It wasn't as if he were such a great asset today, anyway, what with his mind being on... other things. Still, he had seen it as his duty to show up. Adrian didn't like his curse dictating his life, and sometimes, he needed these small acts of defiance against it.

While the others had been talking, Adrian had been prowling around the room, making the occasional comment as to not look too preoccupied. Although, given his reputation and the way he usually had at least half a dozen investigations running at the same time, his fellow masks would have probably overlooked it.

Things got worse when they decided to end the meeting and go on patrol. Adrian had tried to arrange it so that he would either go out alone tonight, or at least stay in the company of Dr. Manhattan, who smelled of ozone and metal, and not flesh and hormones. But instead, he found himself heading out into the night aboard the Owlship. At least Rorschach had been absent tonight. Thank God for small mercies, Adrian didn't think he would have been able to bear the man's stench tonight, and least of all in the closed and somewhat cramped quarters of the ship.

Dan, on the other hand, smelled good. A little too good, at least for the state Adrian was in. While the curse had changed pretty much everything else about his life, it hadn't changed his sexual orientation. Whenever Dan leaned over to his side to flick some switch or press a button, Adrian was having a hard time not sniffing him. He'd already had to fake a yawn once, having been unable to keep himself from flehming. Now, Adrian found himself desperately wishing for some kind of crime to happen. It didn't matter what, as long as it got him out of the ship. Half an hour later, he got his wish.

Fighting always took the edge off things, and this time was no different. After having stopped a gang of seven from robbing an unfortunate tourist couple who had taken a few wrong turns, Adrian was feeling decidedly more at ease. In fact, he felt good, so good that he didn't notice the cut on his upper lip, at least not until Dan pointed it out to him. Pulling off his glove - and surreptitiously checking for any signs of the onset of transformation - Adrian gingerly dabbed at the cut with his index finger. It hurt, but it wasn't too bad.

"It's nothing," he said, sitting down in the co-pilot's chair and pulling off his other glove, which was spattered with blood from the assailant whose nose he had broken during the fight. He would have to ask Dan if he had anything to clean it off with.

Dan was in the back of the ship, rifling through a small cabinet: "Still, we should have a look at it." And before Adrian could do anything to stop him, Dan was standing in front of him, his cowl pushed back, revealing a mess of sweaty locks, his face showing a concern that was adorable in its sincerity. Dan's fingers were gently touching Adrian's lips, directly under Adrian's nose, and dear God he still smelled so good. Even better, now that his odour had some definite undercurrents of testosterone and adrenaline, and Adrian knew he had lost. The beast was rearing its head, and it was only a question of how much he would have to feed it.

Growling at the back of his throat, Adrian snatched Dan's wrist.
"I'm sorry. Did I hu..."

The rest of the sentence was swallowed in a surprised gasp as Adrian ran first his nose and then his tongue over the inside of Dan's wrist, licking up Dan's sweat, his scent, feeling Dan's racing pulse under his tongue. Looking up, Adrian could see the shocked, slightly frantic look in the other man's eyes, and for a moment Adrian thought he had forgotten to put in his contacts, which kept his eyes looking human even when he was beginning to be anything but. And he was changing, so much was sure. The light and the colors around him were shifting, and he could feel the beginning of an itch starting underneath his skin. Not much time now.

"Adrian, I don't think..."
Once again, Daniel's last words were cut off, this time by Adrian swiftly rising out of his seat, pushing Dan backwards against the wall of the ship and closing Dan's mouth with a kiss, his teeth nipping at Dan's lips, eliciting a soft whimper from the other man. Tilting his head, Adrian kissed and nipped along the line of Dan's jaw and then down his neck, closing his teeth down over Dan's pulse. Allthewhile, Daniel's fingers had been scrabbling uselessly over the shell of his costume, and Adrian wasn't quite sure if Dan was trying to push him off or pull him closer. Not that he cared much, at the moment.

Just as Adrian was thinking about how to get Dan, and for that matter himself, out of costume without doing too much damage to either, Dan seemed to have made up his mind. Dan's fingers were in Adrian's hair, and he was pulling Adrian off his neck and against his lips, opening his mouth slightly. Adrian growled and pushed his tongue into Dan's mouth, sliding it against Dan's. Puling back, Adrian gave the other man a feral grin: "How do I get you out of that damn costume?"

Dan chuckled, his thumb caressing the rim of Adrian's ear: "I'll take care of mine if you'll take care of yours. Honestly, I have no idea where you'd even put zippers on that thing."

Once the bits and pieces of their costumes were littering the Owlship's floor, Adrian once again pinned Dan against the wall, devouring his mouth, his nails raking up and down over Dan's sides. The tips of his fingers were tingling with a painful pinprick sensation, and his whole skin was crawling now, the feeling only slightly eased by the cool touch of Daniel's fingers. Not much time.

Grabbing Dan by the shoulders, Adrian turned Dan around, his body pressed flush against Daniel's. Kissing Dan's ear, he whispered: "I'm sorry."

Using one of his knees to push Dan's legs apart, Adrian closed his fingers around Dan's hips, holding him still as he entered Dan with one quick, brutal thrust. Dan cried out, bracing his hands against the wall and trying to push himself, and Adrian, off, but Adrian knew that any attempt like that was pretty much futile. He was too strong, and most of all too hungry.

Growling and whining, Adrian thrust into Dan's tight heat, lust and arousal overshadowing the burning pain that was slowly growing in his bones. When he moved one of his hands off Dan's hip to trail it over his side, Adrian saw that he was leaving thin, pink scratch marks on the other man's skin. Dan was whimpering, his eyes squeezed shut, and Adrian hoped that he would stay that way. Closing his teeth around the skin on the nape of Dan's neck, Adrian thrust into him with abandon, the coil of arousal in him tightening until it finally snapped. With a deep, guttural growl, Adrian came, his body going rigid against Dan's.

Not even waiting to catch his breath, Adrian pulled out, pressing his lips to the teeth marks he had left on Dan's neck. "I'm sorry," he once again whispered into Dan's ear, his voice hoarse and throaty, "but I can't help it."

When he hit the button for the downward hatch, Adrian saw that his hand was shaking, his fingers moving jerkily as if on their own, the bones and tendons beginning to rearrange themselves, black shiny claws having taken the place of his nails.

Not bothering to pick up his costume, Adrian crouched down at the edge of the hatch, looking back at Dan before letting himself fall through and onto the rooftop underneath. He knew Dan's hurt, shocked and horrified face would haunt him for the next few nights. But at least no one would die tonight, and that should have been worth it.