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Summary
“I told you,” Oikawa hums, low and distinctly pleased. “You needed me. Needed my taste.”
They're pack creatures—turned vampires need their sire's blood to keep themselves sane. It's an old habit of Iwaizumi's, to put off drinking from Oikawa because he knows the brat spreads himself too thin, too often. But sometimes, sometimes, it's better to give in.
Alternatively titled: two dorks with sharp teeth, one bed
Series
- Part 2 of perchance to dream