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Rei isn’t quite sure how things got to this point, but that’s, unfortunately, starting to become his normal, another dull facet in an increasingly unengaging life. There was tea (something minty, hot and cold all at once), there were birds (there are birds, tittering, the gossips), and there was a play script (“Another medieval fantasy?” “It’s not like he can do anything else…”), but those all sit forgotten in favor of attending to (being attended by?) the very distracting Hibiki Wataru sitting in his lap. He’d walked in with a headache—fully aware that Wataru is that last person you should see if you have a headache—and somehow wound up with an offer to “kiss it better.” It’s not really working, but that doesn’t really matter; he tastes way too nice for Rei to think to care.
Rei’s head gets tilted up, and they break the kiss only to meet again, parting for the small joy of coming back together. It’s then that Wataru does something with his tongue, something that coaxes a rumbling groan out his tired throat, even as it tickles. The pressure in his head abates slightly, and then there’s a gush of bitter fluid and oh, yes, this headache makes sense now. Wataru makes a intrigued noise, then a noise of disgust, breaking the kiss and pressing his fingers to his lips with brows knitted.
“What tasted so bitter? And why ish my tongue shudd—why is my tongue suddenly numb?”
“Ah, that’s the venom.”
Wataru gives him the look—inquisitive but confident, dangerously sexy—with the quirked eyebrow and sly quirk of his lips and asks, “Oh? Before you even bite anything? That’s a surprising new technique, coming from you, Rei.” His voice gets low when Rei’s name falls from his mouth, honeyed, saccharine, addicting.
“Don’t worry about it,” he replies, resolving to take care of it later, like every other aspect of his life. Wataru, like their other comrades, is one of the few worthwhile things he has this this time he calls an existence, but only Wataru was able to teach him the meaning of ephemeral, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to stop the only interesting thing that’s happened in the past week to go bite some piece of cotton in the morgue this school calls an infirmary. Before he can say anything Rei pulls him down by the hips, in for another kiss, and then there are hands fisting in his shirt, hands sneaking under his jacket, hands cupping and sliding through his hair, hands everywhere, everywhere—
They break apart as the door to the theater club room creaks open, and Rei looks up to see the sickly shadow of none other than Eichi Tenshouin standing in the doorway. Their eyes meet and oh it’s so satisfying to watch that pompous indignation crumple the second he realizes Wataru’s in the room. It’s his club, why wouldn’t he be in the room? Tenshoun’s gaze snaps to the floor, which means that he misses the door handle once, twice, before managing to pull the door closed with a stuttered “sorry.” Rei generously gives him a few seconds to walk away before bursting into laughter.
“I didn’t realize he was so fuckin’ whipped for you! Ah, Shu’s gonna get such a kick outta this one.”
Wataru laughs along, but looks nonplussed about the whole affair, head cocked like he could implore Rei to explain just what they were laughing at. In doing so, his ponytail slides the rest of the way off his shoulder, the silvered curtains brushing aside to reveal unmarked pale skin, right there, right there…
“Rei? You’re drooling purple.”
Wataru takes his thumb to brush the mess away, and when he nears his lips Rei can’t help but bare his fangs, letting the sharp tooth nick the flesh. Wataru blinks at him then licks his thumb clean, even though he frowns at the taste.
“Why the fuck would you try it again?”
“I think you can’t definitely like or dislike something until you’ve tried it twice—most things, at least. Some worldly delights can only be enjoyed once one’s palate has been acclimated, no? Though this still tastes really super-de-duper gross.”
“Like I said, it’s venom, it’s not supposed to be tasted.” Rei tsks , scowling at the taste of blood in his mouth. He must be hungrier than he thought, to be drooling over Wataru like he’s one of those first years that have their rooms wallpapered with his bromides (despite what they say in public). Heaving a sigh, Rei nudges Wataru the way he would coax a cat off his lap, and Wataru obediently hops to his feet, pulling Rei up with him. A small mercy, a thoughtful one, one that spares him the need to stand on his own.
At the rate things are going,soon he won’t even be able to do that much.
“Guess I’ll go down to the infirmary and take care of this. Got a flight to Korea about two days from now, and it'll be a real pain if it’s not drained by then. Ah, my head’s fuckin’ killing me.” Wataru skips ahead, standing in front of him but not in front of the door.
“To what, take care of your vampire things? That’s so inefficient,” he says and spins back around to face Rei. His hair shines in the light, as does his grin—always a little too big, just a touch too wide— and his eyes glint with that familiar teasing mischief, a glint mostly reserved for fun new ways to harass the student council. “I’m right here, Rei,” and tilts his head, his scattered doves mirroring the action, and again before him is that pale unmarred unclaimed delicious—
“Can’t you just bite me ?”
There’s a boom, loud, echoing. A squeak, quiet, pained? His knuckles hurt. Wataru looks at him with wide eyes, a bird ensnared, and it’s only then that Rei realizes that noise was the sound Wataru makes when slammed against a door. He’d moved with speed he doesn’t have anymore (speed that will leave him immobile tomorrow) and pinned those slender wrists before either of them really knew what was happening. The polite thing to do would be to let him go and give him a hug, but Wataru isn’t giving him fear now—past the initial shock, those wide eyes and flushed cheeks and beating, beating heart read only of elation, and so Rei retracts his fangs and closes his mouth. He teeth clack.
“Y’sure?” His voice is lower, deeper, rumbling out to fill the cluttered lonely room. Wataru shivers. “It’s ain’t gonna be like the other times; I’ve got enough to leave even you out of it.” Those purple eyes light up even more, impossibly more. “And if you say yes, yer probably gonna have to get rowdy to stop me. Knowing that,” Rei looms closer, until their lashes almost brush, until he can make out his disgusting red reflected in that vibrant violet. “You still want me ta bite ya?”
Wataru giggles and tilts his chin up just to look down at Rei with an almost smug gaze.
“Go ahead, Rei.”
The last vestiges of his rational thought make Rei cup Wataru’s cheek and kiss him, holding onto the knowledge that things will be easier if Wataru is yearning for this as badly as Rei is. Just from this Wataru’s pulse is already starting to quicken, he can feel it even through the layers of clothes and assorted items he keeps tucked away. That pounding heart skips a beat when Rei nudges those sinfully long legs apart with his knee, and again when Rei feels up what he can through Wataru’s thick vest.
They part and Rei opens his eyes to find Wataru already watching him, eyes half-open but bright beneath smoky eyeshadow. A rosy blush has bloomed high on his cheeks, and around his mouth are smears of his pale lipstick, the glitter flashing red in the dim theatre light. Rei licks his lips, breaking the thin trail of drool connecting them and tasting the cherry chapstick beneath the makeup. It’s overbearingly sweet, as always. The ache, the need, is starting to throb.
Rei presses a slow, open mouthed kiss to the place where Wataru's jaw meets his neck, then another just below it, letting his lips drag across the supple skin. Wataru responds by sneaking his hands up under Rei's jacket to press him closer, so tightly that it would be painful to keep his hand on Wataru's chest any longer. A shame—he hasn't even gotten under his vest yet.
A groan, a shiver, and Wataru tilts his head even more, the prey presenting himself to be eaten. Rei lingers for just a second on the feel of hot excited blood that thrums with sweet life beating beneath pale skin—then sinks his fangs in without a second thought.
Oh, the sweet release.
Faintly, there's the sensation of his venom draining into his vic—Wataru, of the slow draining of tension not unlike the relief found from a much needed rest or the deeper satiation he used to be able to find alone in the dead of night. Faintly, there's the sweetly dramatic whimpers and gasps coming from beneath him as Wataru tries to get a hold of himself, and the fevered moans that follow when his rational thoughts slip away. Faintly, there's the taste of sweat-slicked skin beneath heady iron, the flavor thick and intoxicating and gag-inducing oh god —
Rei rips away from Wataru’s neck to spit onto the floor, choking slightly on the scent. Wiping his mouth does nothing to help, and sticking his tongue out to try and taste the air would just look stupid, and probably be even less effective. Fuck. Dammit.
“Why do I feel like I’m going to die when you touch me?” Rei flicks his eyes away from the mess he left on the floor to look at Wataru, drinking in the way his chest heaves with every breath. “But I’ll die if you let me go. I’ll burn alive, I’ll self-immolate,” he pauses to open his eyes, giving Rei a side-long glance burning with need. “Hey, Rei…”
Rei lets his gaze fall from Wataru’s face down to his neck, where the bite mark still leaks blood. It’s disgusting; he licks his lips and darts forward. His tongue drags over the wound, sealing it. The excess blood is revolting, but Rei’s noise of disgust is drowned out by Wataru’s wanton moan. Rei grabs his chin and captures his lips once more, easily coaxing his mouth open. He tastes of bubblegum and cotton candy now, a cloying sweetness that clears the blood and clouds the mind. They part with a wet smack. Wataru gasps like he’s forgotten how to breathe— he might have, considering how flushed his cheeks have gotten, and how dazed that normally sharp gaze is. When Rei releases his wrists Wataru sways into his shoulder with a drunken giggle, a rose in the breeze, a petal in the tide.
“Yer actin’ just as bad as my European fangirls, ya know that?”
“Oh? You do scandalous things with women overseas? Are you gonna call me a floozy and push me to the floor next? Ehe, floozy is a fun word~ Floozy~ I’m a little woozy~”
Rei huffs out a breath, letting his head knock against Wataru’s. The smell of rose and perfume is intoxicating, and for a second Rei wonders if he’s the drunk one. Strong arms slide up to wrap around his neck, and they both snuggle into each other's embrace.
“You know that wasn’t me. Tall, black-haired rock-and-roll types like me are a dime a dozen in England. Besides, I love ya way too much to treat you like that. What kind of Demon King would I be if I tossed my favorite subjects around?”
Rei tugs Wataru closer, one hand resting on the small of his back and the other casually slipping into his back pocket. Always a dangerous idea with Wataru, but nothing in there threatens to bite off his fingers. This time. Wataru shivers, muffling his moan in Rei’s jacket.
“‘Course, it wouldn’t surprise me if that guy was a plant to smear me, because I’m quite certain Tenshouin would stoop to anything the win this fuckin’ war. Something’s up, for sure, but I’ve been away too long to keep my ear to the ground. Are you sliding? Stop that, oi, we’re not gonna lay on the floor—”
Wataru, with his arms still around Rei’s neck, had started trying to drag them both down to the floor. At Rei’s command, he stops, instead grinding against Rei like that’ll magically get him under Rei’s clothes. Rei reaches back to remove the tiny hooks trying to stealthily untuck his shirt, then hoists Wataru up and over his shoulder. Much to his surprise, Wataru goes limp and quiet, only making a couple of soft whimpers when Rei turns and walks to the bookcase that leads into Yumenosaki’s forgotten underground.
“Rei! Rei. Why would you pick me up like this, I told you I was woozy…” He punctuates his claim by kicking his feet weakly, completing the illusion of their darling brat, an illusion that is also dangerously cute on Wataru. Well, if that’s what he wants, it should at least amuse the kid when he comes in holding his “Shishou” like this.
Rei flips Wataru around, carrying him bridal style like he’s picked up a much heavier but less squirmy Natsume. Wataru’s head bobs slightly before he sags, pressing his face into Rei’s shoulder. Alone in the musty isolation of a stairway that shouldn’t be, the affection is all the more intimate.
“Amazing,” he mumbles in a complete deadpan, “my vision is so colorful. It seems that I’ve been transported to a whole new world…”
“Please don’t start.”
Wataru sucks in a deep breath, and Rei does not have a hand free to stop him. So much for a surprise entrance. Instead Rei hums along under Wataru’s showy accents and runs, following behind as he tosses ad-libs here and there without a care for the sanctity of the original. Rei drinks in the smell of roses over dust and savors it, savors it, savors it while he still can.