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Just a Nibble

Summary:

The Voice altered television for the Supernatural community. Everyone believed the mixed species show would end in chaos. After all, when did a vampire and werewolf interaction ever lead to anything but bloodshed? Yet Adam and Blake's obvious comradery shocked the world and The Voice became an instant hit. Enter Season 2 of The Voice and everyone is ecstatic and supportive. Or are they?

Notes:

Hey! So this lovely idea popped into my head after reading FunkyInFishnet's Take A Bite (who can resist Vampire Adam, let's be real), which you all should definitely read!

So I could have easily wrote Season 1 into a seperate story, but I have no motivation to do so. So you get about two pages worth of exposition instead (sorry! It gets better after that, I promise).

Now, this takes place in a world that's filled with mostly supernatural creatures (there are a few humans but not that many, percent-wise). Werewolves are the largest group and vampires are one of the smallest. Also, my vampires are essentially regular vampires (long lives, suck blood, sun and garlic hurts them, etc), except the vampires have pumping blood (for reasons that will become relevant if I write some of the one-shots I'm thinking about). So vampires drink blood in order to refurbish their own blood supply (because their bodies are no longer capabile of producing their own blood). So if a vampire gets injuried and bleeds then they need blood ASAP. Anyways, long author note over. I hope you enjoy! If anything about the world or fic is confusing just comment below and I'll answer and add more to this note!

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Adam’s nostrils flared. Fae. He glanced down the few red chairs to Blake. Blue eyes met hazel. Blake rolled his eyes at Adam’s pointed stare. At least the werewolf didn’t have an advantage either. Not that species technically played a factor in team-making decisions. But there was no denying that vampires gravitated towards Adam and werewolves tended to pick Blake.

The Voice was a radical thing when it premiered last season. Fuck, it was still a radical thing. The fact that The Voice was a singing competition took backstage to the sheer mixture of supernatural creatures NBC willingly jammed together. Generally, reality shows refrained from cooping up different supernatural creatures (the last show that tried was Big Brother and that season ended with at least 4 people in the hospital). Other singing competition shows kept to only the “more harmless” creatures i.e. not vampires or werewolves. Of course, werewolves had a large enough population they produced were-only shows.

When NBC announced that their panel of judges would include a werewolf, a banshee, a demon, and a vampire, the public instantly went into an uproar. A few petitions were even signed advocating against the potential dangers the judges and mixed contestants provided. Adam understood. He had been equally skeptical when NBC officials first offered him a spot on the panel.

Vampires had always populated the music industry. But wanting to associate with said vampires past treating them like a spectacle was rare. The avoidance came from vampires needing blood, even though most vampires were sustained by the blood bottles that other creatures donated. But centuries of past vampire supremacy still made creatures, whose great-great-grandparents weren’t even thought of at the time, wary.  

Also there was the whole glamor, mind control thing...

Which Adam hadn’t used for anything other than trivial matters—and never in public—in decades, but most creatures scoffed at that notion. No one wanted their freewill taken away and always assumed the worse of the fanged creatures.

The mass supply of blood bottles did soothe the public’s major vampire concern. That particular compromise only came about when The Coven negotiated enough blood to sustain their current population. In return, vampire attacks stopped, which was fairly straightforward. And was what The Coven technically advocated.

Of course, The Coven couldn’t be expected to mass control every vampire. That was impractical even for the other creatures’ leaders to demand. So Purist vampire attacks became a depressingly common news headline.

Purists are a rogue clan out of The Coven’s control. But the older vampires, especially The Coven, never hid their disdain and resentment of the “watered down filth and embarrassment” of donated blood. Draining a whole body—specifically a body filled with adrenaline—always provided vampires the most strength. Also, most Coven leaders were alive during the heyday of vampire supremacy. Power was always difficult to let go. Evidence of The Coven’s involvement with the Purists would inevitably lead to estrangement at best and complete eradication at worse. The Coven leaders had centuries of experience in covering their tracks, but it was only a matter of time before their betrayal was discovered.

Gaining said evidence would be easier if other creatures could actually catch more than the occasional Purist vampire. Hunting vampires always provided a challenge, even for werewolves. Honestly, the best way to catch a vampire was with a vampire—vampires were easily one of the fastest creatures—but vampire agents—as few as they numbered—were rarely used or trusted for such a task.

Vampires, predictably, were met with hostility, eroticization, fear, or the very fun combo of two or all three. As such, vampires generally kept to themselves, which only made them more of an outsider group to the supernatural community. A threat to be forever distrusted.

Werewolves, commonly labeled the second most dangerous creature, were only deemed out of control once a month while vampires were 24/7. Also, any potential threat the werewolves held was set aside because they are the prime vampire hunters. A fact that instantly granted werewolves leniency in the public eye and incurred vampire ire.

But NBC was determined to have a variety of creatures—fuck, they even had a token human, Carson Daly—so here Adam was, after much negotiation with NBC and debates with his bandmates.

All the coaches met a week before filming. NBC claimed it was a get-to-know-you thing, but it was an open secret that the network officials wanted to ensure the coaches would not rip each other’s throats out. As if the supernatural musicians weren’t used to restraint.

Adam had initially been thrilled at the prospect of a demon coach. The demon was bound to take some heat off of him. After all, demons had a dark reputation for obvious reasons. But the demon was Pharrell Williams who was the literal nicest creature on the planet. Adam felt at ease around the producer in ten seconds flat. Which was a start of a beautiful friendship for them, but also meant that viewers and potential contestants would feel the same ease.

Gwen Stefani, the banshee, was the sunshine to Pharrell’s rainbows. They were sickeningly adorable and sweet. After five minutes, it was apparent that the demon and banshee shared a long history together. They were a natural duo.

The werewolf was the main problem. Adam may be considered one of the more radical vampires by The Coven, but even he never made a habit to talk with werewolves. For obvious reasons. The two creatures had centuries of bad blood and were notorious in their mutual disdain. But the producers loved the idea of the werewolf and vampire mixture and the rating boost that would surely follow. In practice, Adam knew that if there was a serious conflict or tension between the two—so bad that even the network heads didn’t want to risk it—he would be the first to go. People loved Maroon 5’s music. But Adam doubted any number of hits and sold out venues would overcome the deeply ingrained vampire prejudice.

Blake Shelton caused Adam the most restless nights prior to the meeting. Blake was practically country music’s sweetheart. His fans would not hesitate to boycott or threaten the Maroon 5 frontman. Adam’s anxiety lasted until the blue-eyed country star sauntered through the doors.

Ironically, the werewolf and vampire got along the best.

Blake wasn’t the typical werewolf. He did more than sneer or growl at the vampire. He respected Adam. Which was insanely refreshing because Adam had followed Blake’s career for years.

Their banter and teasing made network officials ecstatic and audiences slack-jawed. Blake never joked about Adam’s glamor or hunting for blood, but, surprisingly, had no restrictions for Adam’s own teasing. For every comparison to Twilight—a heinous book that made The Coven annually cry for Stephanie Meyer’s death. He was growing more inclined to vote yes—Adam conversationally discussed the werewolves’ heat. For every fang-head or bat brain, there was a comment about the country singer's overgrown nails or hairy chest.

And, of course, their smell was a constant debate between the duo. But Adam had grown to recognize and relax in Blake’s piney, wet dog scent. Not that he would ever reveal that discrepancy to the werewolf.

Then season one of The Voice premiered—and Adam was actually interviewed by non-vampire reporters—and the rest is history. People fawned over the show, the coach interactions, and the insane talent. All four coaches bonded almost instantly and, to the relief of NBC, returned for the second season.

Adam blinked as Blake pressed his button, quickly pressing his as well. He refused to allow the lull of his own thoughts distract him from the contestant.

The vampire grinned at the blonde fairy, knowing from experience that her frail body was remarkably misleading. The blonde fairy sparkled as she let out the final note. She grinned shyly at the werewolf and vampire. Pharrell and Gwen clapped as they turned around.

“Oh my God, you’re so cute!” Gwen gushed.

The fairy blushed as the audience clapped.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Blake asked.

“Gabrielle,” the fairy said, still glowing faintly. “I’m from Tennessee.”

Blake brightened the same time Adam groaned.

“Really?” the werewolf asked, leaning forward.

“Uh, uh,” Adam scolded. “Notice how she didn’t sing country. Back down, Fido.”

“I have plenty of non-country connections,” Blake said.

“I have more,” Adam stage-whispered to Gabrielle. The fairy smiled. “What type of music do you want to sing? Because your voice sounded very pop, but you have the grit for rock.”

“I actually do want to get into rock,” Gabrielle said.

“Do you? Interesting. Now what is that nickname Blake always gives me...?”

“Blood breathe,” Blake said.

“Something to do with ‘rock’ and ‘star,’ I believe...”

“Garlic lover.”

Adam rubbed his chin. “Star rock? No...”

“Edward Cullen.”

Adam scowled. “No need to rude. Is the full moon coming up or are you just snappy today?”

“You don’t want Adam,” Blake said. “I mean, look at his fangs. Nightmare inducing, those are.”

“Don’t listen to the uncultured dog with his gross, overgrown nails,” Adam said. “Manscapping is a thing, Blakie-boo.”

“You would know.”

The vampire rolled his eyes. “Now, I did do rather well last season. Javier won.  And I would love to continue that streak with you.”

Adam allowed himself a second of victory as Gabrielle’s face turned thoughtful. The wendigo was a God-send last season, especially since most contestants were reluctant to join the “reclusive” vampire’s team. The season 2 Blinds just began, but Adam at least pretended that less contestants were deterred by his fangs. 

“Will you be able to concentrate with Adam’s beautiful face?” Blake continued. Adam shook his head at the catcalls. “I think not. Let Papa Shelton guide you to victory.”

“Papa Shelton is creepy and not in your genre,” Adam countered.

“I’m already a fan of yours, Gabrielle,” Blake said.

“We can fly together, which is always fun and relaxing,” Adam said. “What will the dog do? Howl at you? That’s not very nice...”

“And,” Blake continued, “like everyone I’m a fan of, I want to watch you thrive and succeed in your future. Join Team Blake.”

“Join Team Adam,” Adam countered. “We have cookies.”

“Bribery!” Blake said.

“Strategy.”

“He does make surprisingly good cookies,” Blake said. “It’s the damnedest thing.”

“See? Come to the cookies,” Adam said.

Pharrell chuckled. “So who do you pick, Gabrielle?”

Gabrielle bit her lip. “Oh God, now? Um...I can’t believe you both turned around. You both make this decision really hard.”

Adam reached towards Gabrielle pleadingly. The blonde fidgeted under the crowds’ chant. It was actually a pretty 50-50 Adam or Blake scream, unlike last year where Blake was always the clear favorite.

“I have to go with my gut,” Gabrielle said, “and my stomach. I pick Adam.”

“Yes!” Adam threw up his arms. He bounded up the stairs at a controlled pace. Fae were nearly as fast as vampires, but other creatures were unnerved at a casual blur of speed—he learned that the hard way. Adam offered his hand. Gabrielle surprised him by bypassing his hand for a hug. The vampire stiffened. Most creatures avoided hugged vampires because it put their necks directly next to the vampires’ mouth. The first time Blake drew Adam into a hug shocked the Maroon 5 frontman and caused a minor freak-out in the audience and social media. Adam still wasn’t used to physical contact from creatures outside his brethren.

She ducked away with a grin. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Adam smiled. “So glad you picked me.”

“Who can resist cookies?”

“I will stuff you with all the cookies,” Adam promised. “Prepare for early diabetes.”

Gabrielle laughed as she left the stage. Adam sauntered to Blake, clapping slowly.

The werewolf rolled his eyes, but couldn’t quite contain his smile. “She obviously pitied you.”

“And by ‘pity’ do you mean ‘strategically chose the winning coach so her career doesn’t instantly plummet’?” Adam asked, lounging on the front of Blake’s chair. God, his scent wasn’t even vaguely repulsive now. The werewolf remained leaned forwards, undeterred by Adam’s close proximity.

“No, I’m pretty sure ‘pity’ still fits,” Blake said.

“Ass,” Adam said. “No wonder your mom abandoned you as a pup.”

“Werewolves don’t do that,” Blake said. “It’s because of you those rumors are so prevalent now.”

“I told you shit would go down for you giving me a coffin,” Adam said.

Blake chuckled. “I thought I was being nice.”

“You knew you were being a jackass.”

“You gave me dog food.”

“How am I supposed to know what werewolves eat?” Adam asked, blinking innocently. “I am just a blood sucking vampire. All liquid diet all the time, that’s me.”

Blake gave him an unimpressed look. “Go back to your chair.”

“You’re just jealous of my persuasive skills,” Adam said.

“I’m jealous of your body, not your persuasive skills,” Blake said.

Adam felt his face heat up. Damn it, his flush would not be this noticeable if he hadn’t just fed. “My body has been the same for centuries. Stop being weird.”

“So that’s how long you’ve been breaking hearts?”

Adam shook his head, patting Blake’s cheek before he walked away. “You’re dumb.”

“You guys are hilarious,” Pharrell said as Adam collapsed back into his chair. “You should get a sitcom.”

“I would watch that,” Gwen said.

“Yay two viewers,” Adam cheered.

“Don’t forget our family,” Blake said.

“Yay a still miniscule amount of viewers,” Adam cheered.

“Wouldn’t you guys tune in for them?” Pharrell asked the crowd. They clapped as the four chairs turned back around. Adam shook his head, catching Blake’s eye with a grin and a resigned shrug.

“Pharrell, we need to work,” Blake said. “Pipe down.”

“It’s weird how Pharrell is the talkative one,” Adam said.

“You know demons, such a reputation for being chatty Catherines,” Blake said.

Pharrell nodded. “That is our biggest critique.”

The coaches quieted as the next contestant came on the stage. Adam’s grinned at Blake smugly. Vampire. The contestant would most likely be Adam’s if he pressed his button. Blake rolled his eyes.

Adam schooled his face as the vampire contestant crooned a Beatles song. The vampire was breathy as he sang. His tone was reminiscent of old jazz but unless the contestant’s voice improved, Adam would not press his button.

The banshee nodded her head slightly as she wrote pointers in her Voice notebook, hardly glancing at her button. Gwen shifted, shrugging slightly when she caught Adam’s gaze. Yeah that was essentially his impression.

Adam closed his eyes, willing the contestant to get better. Not that he tried to be biased, but vampires rarely made it on talent competitions. The few shows they did manage to enter portrayed them as sex toys for viewers, which some vampires thrived on, but that was a small percentage. The Voice was a show that celebrated all talents and treated all creatures with respect. Adam longed for all contestants—but vampires specifically—to succeed. Vampires deserved a chance to show the real them.

The contestant’s voice grew louder, but that was due to him walking towards the coaches and had nothing to do with vocal control. Adam winced at the patch of sour notes. Usually The Voice filtered talent better. Adam bit his lip. Unless The Voice was attempting to appease Adam with a plethora of vampire contestants.

He sighed. He might have to corner Carson later and interrogate the producer. The Voice was about talent. It was not supposed to serve as an after school special. Adam’s personal wishes and hopes aside.

Adam still had his hazel eyes closed when a single shriek echoed from the audience. His eyes flew open as light feet dashed across the stage, directly towards the coaches.

Directly towards Blake.

He barely processed the music cutting off as he flipped out of his chair. Adam landed in a crouch in front of Blake’s chair, baring his fangs at the vampire.

The vampire contestant jumped back from Adam. He narrowed his eyes at the frontman's protective stance.

“Know whose side you’re on,” the vampire said.

Adam hissed, baring his fangs. He ignored the rustle of movement and shrieking crowd around him. “Back off.”

The stout vampire chortled. “Think you can hold me off while your pathetic security gets here? Unless they happened to be prepared for a vampire attack...”

Adam attempted to maintain his snarl.

The stout vampire’s face brightened. “Oh are they? How embarrassing.”

Adam’s hazel eyes flashed.  He discovered the reserve of garlic spray, stakes, and protective gear on accident. He knew that NBC would have tools to maintain peace during potential conflicts. He just pretended that the reserves of holy water and tasers—no silver bullets, not that Blake required that type of sedation—were larger. “It’s because of assholes like you that they’re there.”

“I’m sure that’s what the executives told you,” the stout vampire said, his gaze flickering to the side. Adam, stupidly, glanced behind him. Blake stared at the scene with wide eyes. Pharrell and Gwen stood with varying degrees of hostility. Black fire danced in Pharrell’s eyes, his calm smile replaced with a grim smirk. Yeah, he could definitely see the demon.

Adam turned away for one second. But one second is an eternity for a vampire.

A hard kick sent Adam flying through the air. Sharp bolts of pain seared his side, his bones crying in protest. That blow would have crushed a human’s ribs. Adam hissed as he twisted in air, catching himself on the bars that laced the studio’s ceiling. The stout vampire darted towards Blake.

“Everyone needs to learn their place,” the stout vampire said, darting forward.

The werewolf shifted too slowly, nails lengthening into claws. Security trickled through the doors. Pharrell pounced too late. And the stout vampire aimed for Blake’s throat.

Adam snarled, kicking off the bars. He whizzed through the air, brushing past Blake’s shoulder to pin the stout vampire. The other vampire crunched against the ground, crying out. He glared, flailing uselessly under Adam’s hold.

“Blood traitor,” the stout vampire said. “You turn against The Coven, the only place that accepts you.”

“This is the 21st century,” Adam spat. “Not to be confused with the Dark Ages.”

The stout vampire chuckled dryly. “How optimistic. Especially when you and I both know better.”

Adam dug his knee into the stout vampire’s throat. “Stop talking.”

“What? Are you going to kill me?” the stout vampire mocked. “Then society’s one ‘good’ vampire will be destroyed. I’m sure the reported relevant details, as always, will be skewed.”

Adam tightened his grip around the stout vampire’s arm. He was faintly aware of security awkwardly hanging back. The security, predictably, was mostly werewolf.

The stout vampire gave the pain no acknowledgement. “Ah, how fickle the mass public is...”

“Adam...” Blake said.

“How easily manipulatable,” the stout vampire said. The pinned vampire’s eyes gleamed red. Adam gave a strangled cry as the stout vampire locked eyes with the warm presence behind him. Damn it, Blake knew better.

“Take your friend off me,” the stout vampire ordered. Adam tensed, knowing that Blake’s glamored-hands would yank him off but unwilling to release the other vampire. He refused to unleash certain death for Blake and didn’t trust the security team to act swiftly enough.

Adam’s mind whirled. The only way to save Blake might be to glamor someone else. Shit he hadn’t glamored non-vampires since...but Blake needed him. His hazel eyes turned crimson.

“...Why?” Blake asked.

Adam blinked. The stout vampire looked equally confused. Glamors always worked, even on other vampires if the vampire was skilled enough. Unless...

The stout vampire arrived at the same conclusion. Disgust and glee warred on his face. “Oh this is too rich—”

Adam shifted, his hands wrapping around his throat. “I will crush your windpipe.”

“Then you’ll have to deal with the bloody aftermath,” the stout vampire said. “When was the last time you feasted around non-brethren? It must’ve been back when even you sucked blood bags dry.”

Adam squeezed. “You’re not pleading your case very well.”

“Will you be able to resist the call of spilled blood?”

“That won’t be your concern,” Adam hissed, snapping his mouth near the pinned vampire’s face.

“Do it,” the stout vampire urged. “Show them the monster you truly are.”

The stout vampire tilted his head back. The warm pulse hit Adam squarely in the nose. Drool pooled in his mouth. Adam felt his fangs lengthen as the stout vampire’s neck stretched, borrowed blood pulsing beneath the surface. The fight no longer occupied Adam’s thoughts, only sweet victory. Hunger gnawed him. It had been decades since he fought prey into submission.

It was within his right to slay this vampire. The Coven would understand.

Adam leaned forward, deeply inhaling. Tangy.

“Adam.”

The vampire jerked back at Blake’s southern twang. He blinked at the canisters of garlic spray and the laced nets that surrounded them. One of the canisters was held unsympathetically inches from his face.

The head of security—werewolf, obviously—studied Adam, lowering his baton. The baton hummed as electricity pulsed through it. “Mr. Levine, if you would.”

Adam nodded. The garlic canisters shifted to solely focus on the stout vampire. Adam kneed the other vampire in the head, the crack making some audience members gasp.

The frontman stiffened.

Right, the studio audience. Adam was surrounded by gawking eyes. He was literally being filmed.

He moved away from the unconscious vampire. Adam heard security haul the other vampire up, briskly marching out the door. He swallowed. They were prepared to poison both of them. Garlic didn’t kill, only incapacitate. But it was still painful as hell.

Was Adam really considered that dangerous?

He studied the ground. He nearly lost himself to bloodlust and drained the other vampire’s body in the middle of a studio filled with screaming and swearing creatures. Plus security surrounded them without Adam noticing. That didn’t particularly indicate lucidity on Adam’s part...

Blake took a step forward. Adam instantly scooted back. He glanced past Blake, locking eyes with The Voice director. He pretended his heart didn’t swoop at the terrified faces in the audience. Adam’s hazel eyes fell down to his hands.

“I’m taking ten,” Adam said, briskly walking backstage.

Crew scurried out of his way. Adam gave them no notice. He couldn’t. He couldn’t bear to see some people he joked around with this morning now staring at him in horror. Damn it, he tried so hard to appear harmless, to disprove the vampire reputation. And everything was fucked in a span of two minutes.

He didn’t stop until his trailer door slammed behind him. The frontman leaned against the thin door, clenching his fist. Adam snarled. He gripped the nearest hard object. He never fought in public. He never displayed his strength or speed. He flung his chair against the wall. The chair shattered. Adam swatted away the larger wooden splinters that ricocheted towards him. He never displayed his bloodlust.

Damn it, it wasn’t even time for Adam to feed. He was just sated at the beginning of the week. Yet when the other vampire displayed his throat...

Adam kicked his table. The metal crumpled under his boot. Adam was this close to piercing his fangs into his pulse, jerky despite the other vampire’s suave words.

The frontman ran his hands through his hair, plopping down on his couch. Fucking hell. Vampires were ruled by their thirst. People were right to fear them.

A familiar scent wafted into Adam’s trailer. A joke about dogs having no manners made a fleeting appearance. He made no move to make it. He made no move to do anything but hang his head in his hands. He refused to even look at Blake. If a hint of anything relating to terror or distrust crossed the were’s face...

Calloused hands slowly reached forward. Adam watched as tan fingers softly traced his tattoos.

Adam released a breath. “I’m surprised you even want to touch me.”

Adam was not prepared for the warm hands to suddenly tighten. Blake effortlessly picked up Adam and wrapped his arms around him. Adam stiffened in Blake’s lap as the country singer manhandled him into a comfortable position. The werewolf’s neck was right there. Adam could smell Blake’s blood course through his body. Did he have no sense of self-preservation? The country star moved his hands to either side of Adam’s face. Adam blinked slowly up at Blake’s soft face.

“Touch you? Adam, you saved my life,” Blake said. “You saved my life and you think I should be worried about touching you?”

Adam frowned up at the country singer. His blue eyes engulfed him. “But I—”

“Kissing the ground you walk on is difficult when you insist on running away,” Blake interrupted. “I know werewolves always talk shit about vampires but fuck, there’s a difference between training with your pack and actually fighting a vampire. Adam, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

“You wouldn’t have been targeted if it weren’t for me,” Adam argued.

“You’re not responsible for other vampire’s actions,” Blake said. “Every lot has insane radicals. I could’ve been the target of any random demented attacker. This is not your fault.”

“But it’s because we get along—”

“Our friendship is one of the greatest treasures in my life,” Blake said. Adam clamped his mouth shut. “The fact that our dicking around serves as an advocation for interspecies relations only makes it that much sweeter. It’s like the whole world realizes how important you are.”

If that had been anyone but Blake, Adam would have scoffed out loud. However, the werewolf’s eyes glimmered sincerely as he continued acting as if he wasn’t constantly a bad romcom one liner. “Oh my God, you’re so fucking cheesy.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” Blake said.

Adam opened and closed his mouth a few times. He shook his head at Blake’s tender smile. “You’re a moron.”

Your moron.”

Adam scoffed. A grin wormed its way on his face.

“You’re a hero, Adam,” Blake said, “and if anyone treats you differently—”

“Blake, I just want you safe. It’s fine if they’re...troubled by what happened,” Adam said. “Vampires aren’t exactly the most trusted creatures. Your assailant proved that.”

“But you stopped him,” Blake said. His eyes narrowed. “How security acted is inexcusable.”

Adam blinked. “They were just doing their jobs—”

“They threatened you,” Blake interrupted. “After you took down the threat before anyone else. Before them. They had no reason—”

“I almost ripped out his throat,” Adam said. “Security was responding to a threat. Guilty or not, draining any body is illegal.”

“That vampire goaded you,” Blake said. “And they know you. They know you would never hurt us.”

“I almost killed someone, Blake.”

“Nobody would’ve blinked an eye if that were me about to kill him,” Blake said.

Adam groaned. “Don’t play what if. That never helped anyone.”

“You should never be threatened,” Blake growled. “You’ve given them no reason to act like that.”

“Shh,” Adam said, burying his head in the crook of Blake’s neck. His stomach fluttered as he bit back a grin. It didn’t matter. None of this mattered in the face of Blake’s righteous fury, righteous fury for him. Blake most definitely smelled Adam’s contentness and elation but the vampire couldn’t bring himself to care. The werewolf slowly relaxed as Adam breathed deeply against him, taking in Blake’s scent. Blake’s hand slowly stroked his back.  “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine—”

“Blake, please.”

Blake huffed. “You know I’ll never stop fighting this. You shouldn’t be treated like a loose cannon just because of what you are.”

Adam pressed his nose against Blake’s pulse point. “Thank you, but it’s an uphill battle.”

“This shouldn’t even be a fight,” Blake muttered.

“Don’t be such a grouchy wolf,” Adam reprimanded lightly. “It’s fine.”

“You deserve more than fine.”

“I know, and that’s why I have you,” Adam said before scrunching his face. “Ugh. God, what did you do to me?”

Adam felt Blake smile from where he nuzzled against Adam's hair. “I made the prickly vampire have feelings.”

“You gave me doggy cooties and horrendous lines,” Adam corrected. “Disgusting.”

Blake’s lips brushed his temple. “Are you ready to head back?”

Adam sighed. “Might as well get the awkwardness over with.”

“It won’t be awkward,” Blake said as Adam swung off his lap.

Adam raised an eyebrow at the werewolf.

“All the coaches are behind you,” Blake said. “We can stop the show if need be.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” Adam said, holding the door open for the werewolf.

“I’ll walk out with you,” Blake said.

“No one is walking out.”

“I just want you to know that offer is on the table,” Blake said.

“And I appreciate it, really. But I don’t want to make a bigger deal out of this. Production already stopped because of me.”

“It’s not like we were all just going to continue filming nonchalantly after you risked your life to protect the studio.”

“I was protecting you,” Adam said, immediately glowering at himself as the words tumbled out of his mouth. Blake’s arm wove across Adam’s shoulders. He kissed the top of the vampire’s head. The crew gave the duo double takes, but Adam determinedly tuned out their hushed murmurs.

“That vampire was against anything that breaks tradition,” Blake said, “which clearly The Voice, and anyone associated with The Voice, does. He would’ve mauled someone else after he finished me.”

Adam hissed.

Blake poked Adam’s scowl. “You stopped him. No need to still be protective.”

“That should have never happened,” Adam muttered.

“Do I need to tell you to calm down now, rock star?”

Adam sighed, resting his head briefly against Blake’s comforting arm. He inhaled deeply. “Nah.”

“So I do have a question before we go out there,” Blake said, halting outside the stage doors.

Adam bit his lip as the werewolf’s pulse jumped. Not in fear. Blake would not have reverted to a cuddly teddy bear if he was afraid. Didn’t make Adam any less nervous though. “Shoot.”

“Why didn’t that vampire’s glamor work on me?” Blake asked. Adam stiffened. “I mean, I thought that glamors worked on everybody.”

“Not always,” Adam said, staring at Blake’s forehead. “If you have a strong mental defense—”

“Adam, I was entirely unprepared for an attack, physical or mental. Trust me when I say that my mental defense was laughable at best,” Blake said. He studied the frontman. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Adam fidgeted. “I have a theory.”

“Just a theory?”

A bit more than a theory, but the implications scared Adam shitless. “You’re one of my best friends, you know that?”

Blake blinked. “You’re mine too.”

“So, when a non-vampire has such a close relationship with a vampire, glamors sometimes don’t work,” Adam said.

Blake frowned. “I never heard that.”

“I never saw anything like it before,” Adam said. “Neither had he, probably. But vampires don’t often grow close with anyone outside their brethren so...”

“I still don’t understand.”

“Our relationship shields you from other vampires. Their glamors don’t affect you,” Adam said, not quite meeting the werewolf’s gaze. “Technically only mine would.”

The bustle of the crew and audience shifted in the background. But the area around Adam and Blake remained empty. Adam finally looked up after a few moments of loaded silence. Blue eyes locked onto his hazel. Adam swallowed, unable to tear his gaze away.

“Would glamors affect Pharrell or Gwen?”

Adam nodded. “Glamor shielding is rare. I-I don’t think a vampire can shield more than one other person.”

“Lucky me,” Blake breathed.

Adam blinked, feeling like Blake effortlessly saw through his misdirects and half-truths. God, Adam always knew how much Blake meant to him, but glamor shielding broadcasted it to the world. If the world knew how to listen, anyways.

“Ready to go out?” Adam asked.

Blake’s piercing gaze finally shifted. “Want me to go out first?”

“Together?” Adam suggested, staring straight ahead.

“Together,” Blake agreed.

The total silence when they sauntered across the stage was expected. The following cheers and claps were not.  Only Blake’s solid presence kept Adam walking. Or else the vampire would just stop and gawk at the audience. Blake ran an arm around Adam’s waist and squeezed.

“I told you, you’re a hero,” Blake murmured against Adam’s ear.

Adam shook his head mutely. Blake chuckled, brushing his lips past Adam’s cheek. The frontman eyed the werewolf as a few catcalls mixed with the loud screaming.

“Let’s sit down, rock star.”

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