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Rei doesn’t remember getting here.
He was here earlier, during the school day, because he’s a good little boy who goes to class except that no he isn’t and no he doesn’t. And when he does, he zones out instead of listening attentively. He’s not very attentive. Except for when he is.
But now he’s back at school, even though he distinctly remembers that once he finished all the bullshit paperwork he had to do—fuck, he hates being student council president—he went out to drink. And he did! He knows that. A lot, in fact. That’s why the world seems hazy and… wavy, kind of, like he’s looking at it through water. Maybe Kanata is really good at being drunk.
“Puka, puka,” Rei says under his breath before bursting into giggles. He does feel floaty right now.
No, focus, Rei, what’d we do? he tells himself. Okay. Yes. Live house. Bar. Shot, shot, shot, there was vodka, then he was bored of vodka like he’s bored of everything, then there was gin, shot, shot… He’s so out of it. Bouzu’s gonna be so mad at me, he thinks, suddenly on the verge of tears.
Like magic (where’s Wataru when you need him?), Keito steps into the club room with a bottle of water. “Did you do anything stupid while I was gone?”
Eyes intently focused on Keito, Rei slowly lays back onto the floor. “Gimme that.”
“If you weren’t so hammered, I’d make you say please, just so you know.” Keito looks as if he’s about to toss the bottle to Rei, but instead he crouches and holds it out.
Rei reaches, misses, then tries again and snatches the water.
“Sit up,” Keito orders.
“I don’t need to,” Rei grumbles, spilling water on his neck as soon as he opens the bottle. He chooses to think of it as refreshing instead of unpleasant. What an optimist he’s become! Vodka does him good. Or maybe it’s the gin. Hm.
As he navigates the water into his mouth instead of onto his shirt, Rei tries to ponder which hard liquor is making him feel less suicidal than he does while sober, but instead he thinks about nothing. His skull is empty, like it’s been sitting in a casket for… however long it takes for bodies to decompose. He’s a skeleton right now. No, skeletons don’t drink water. He’s definitely drinking water. It’s very good.
The water is gone now, though, so he squeezes the plastic bottle in his fist just to hear the noise it makes. Then he chucks it somewhere into the room. Oh, he hopes Koga doesn’t find it. Well, no, that’d be okay, it’s just a water bottle, he won’t know it’s from Rei getting wasted. Rei’s not sure why he cares if Koga knows.
Keito does what Keito does best and ruins everything. Hey, that was mean, Rei-chan, say sorry. “What do you remember?” he asks.
Rei-chan doesn’t say sorry, but rather, “Uhm.”
A sigh.
“Shuddup. Uhm. Uhm. I… drank. Shots.” He waves a hand in the air, which is supposed to add emphasis but he can’t really tell what gestures he’s making so it actually doesn’t add anything.
“How many?”
“Six. Mm.” He frowns. “Seven?”
“Eleven.”
He frowns deeper. “I don’t remember that many. I think yer lyin’ to me.”
Keito rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’m lying to you about how many shots you took. You caught me.”
Rei laughs hard enough that his eyes squeeze shut tight, the way he used to do when he was real little and trying to fall asleep. “Yer such an asshole, bouzu.”
“If it weren’t for me, you’d probably be throwing up in the live house bathroom. Or… God knows what.” Keito shakes his head, and Rei copies the movement. It’s dizzying. “You confuse me to no end, Sakuma-san.”
“C’mere, asshole.” He reaches out a hand, opening and closing his palm like he’s trying to grab something. Grab Keito. “C’mere. Help me, asshole.”
“Say ‘please’ first.”
“Ya said ya wouldn’t make me cuz ‘m shitfaced,” Rei protests. “Don’t lie, bouzu, ‘s fucked up. To a drunk man? What’s wrong with ya?”
Although Keito definitely says something, it’s enough to himself that Rei can’t make it out. He begrudgingly sits beside Rei, who claws his way into a sitting position using Keito’s arm and leg.
“Gonna sit in your lap,” he says. Fuck. How do bodies work? Where the fuck is Keito’s lap? The world is moving too much. Like somebody’s lazily shifting a globe side-to-side on its axis.
Keito says words that sound irritated, but most words do when Keito says them, as he guides Rei into his lap. His hands don’t move from Rei’s hips.
“Thanks, bouzu.” He drapes his arms over Keito’s shoulders. “Should I kiss ya to show my gratitude?
His lip curls. “Your breath smells like gin.”
“Mm. Guy said it was strong enough to take the paint off the walls.” Giggling, Rei presses his nose into Keito’s neck. “Ya wanna take the paint off my walls, bouzu?”
“You’re utterly incorrigible.”
He snorts. “Yeah, give up hope already.”
Neither of them say anything for a while, though Rei will never know how long a while that is. His eyes close at some point, and he thinks he’s pressing his lips to Keito’s skin. Not kissing. Just pressing. It’s almost better. Keito doesn’t move him away or move at all. Rei might as well be sitting on a statue.
“Bouzu.”
“Yes?”
He licks Keito’s neck, just barely. “I dunno. I wanna go home.” A pause. “Nah, wait, I don’t, my dad’ll fuckin’ kill me. Aw, fuck, bouzu, I can’t let Ritsu see me like this.”
“Are you going to cry?”
“Ya wish.” His voice wavers.
Keito tries to adjust his position but doesn’t get far with an idiot in his lap. “I would despise it if you did, actually.”
“I wish ya were nicer to me,” he murmurs.
“What was that?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”
Keito lifts a hand to pinch Rei’s cheek, and Rei whimpers louder than he should. “You could stand to be a little nicer yourself.”
“I know.” His voice goes quiet, or at least he thinks it does. God, he’s really such a piece of shit. He can take shot after shot until he kills himself via alcohol poisoning, but when—if—he sobers up, he’ll feel the same as ever. He’ll feel like a corpse. “Bouzu.”
“What?” Keito huffs.
Rei only responds with a soft whine. Drunk words are sober thoughts, sure, but he can’t even make his thoughts into words. No matter what’s in his system. “Bite me?”
“Honestly, what are you doing?”
He leans close, his head against Keito’s cheek. “Bite me hard. Wanna feel it.”
Instead of delivering another complaint or criticism like Rei expects, Keito takes Rei’s wrist, lifts it to his lips, and bites down.
It hurts. It feels better than anything ever has. Rei laughs, because he still has enough sense to not moan, because this is ridiculous, because he’s losing his mind, because of everything and nothing.
But good things end sooner than they start, and Keito’s teeth are gone from Rei’s skin. “You’re making so much noise,” he scolds.
“I know. ‘M sorry,” Rei whispers, and there are tears in his eyes that he prays Keito won’t see. “Fuck me? Please?”
Keito brushes greasy black hair—Rei needs to shower when he gets home—aside to kiss Rei’s neck. “Good grief. You’re losing it.”
“Please, bouzu?” He rubs his cheek on Keito’s shoulder. “Please? I need ya. Please.”
“You sound like a child.”
In a way, Rei feels like one. Mostly he feels like a horny teenager who’s had more liquor than he should’ve, but he also feels inexplicably small and needy. Not that he’d been that way as a child. There’s nothing to cry about in a cemetery if you’re not there for a funeral.
“Sakuma-san?”
“Fuck me,” he breathes, trying to grind into Keito’s lap but not knowing how well he’s doing.
“You’re drunk.”
“I need it.” He cups Keito’s face in his hands. “Bouzu. Hasumi-chan. Keito, Kei-kun, please.”
Keito kisses him, quick but fierce. “Don’t call me stupid names. You need to get some sleep.”
He’s breathless. “No, I… I wanna… Want ya…”
“Yes?”
Rubbing circles onto Keito’s cheeks with his thumbs, Rei shakes his head. No way in hell he’s gonna say this out loud. It’s so tempting, it’d be so easy, but he won’t. In this situation, Rei is too vulnerable. He has enough grip left on reality to know that that’s a bad, bad, bad thing. Don’t ask him to touch ya, he tells himself. Don’t ask him to love ya or fix ya or what-fuckin’-ever.
“I think we need to get you home.”
“I hate my fuckin’ house.” Wow, he’s dangerously close to crying. Reel it in, Sakuma, ya fuckin’ bitch. “Nah, nah, ‘s not true, ‘s a nice house, just… I don’t wanna. I don’t wanna, bouzu.”
Mercifully, Keito kisses his neck again. It’s the warmest anything that’s ever come in contact with Rei’s anywhere. “I don’t think you know what you want, Sakuma-san.”
“I wanna feel good,” he whispers. “I wanna feel good, bouzu. I haven’t in a long time.”
“I can’t help you,” Keito whispers back. His breath is so agonizingly soft on Rei’s skin.
“Ya could.” Rei wants to kiss him. He lands on the side of Keito’s nose instead of his lips. That’s fine.
Keito’s hands are only in his hair and on his waist but they feel like they’re everywhere. “Not while you’re drunk.”
“Not that,” he half-lies. “Ya could… Need ya to…” Stay, stay, stay, please, he chants in his head.
“It’s late. Neither of us should be in the school building right now.”
“Ya made me be student council goddamn president and now I can’t even be drunk in my own goddamn school?” He pokes Keito’s chest. “Fucked. Up.”
He grabs Rei’s finger and brings it close to his mouth. “Do you want me to help you get home?”
“Leave me here,” he says without thinking. Not unlike most of what he’s said tonight. “Can go home myself once I, like… chill.”
“Are you sure?” His eyes are extremely green.
Rei considers licking Keito’s glasses but doesn’t wanna get yelled at. “Mhm. ‘M a big boy, bouzu, I can do it.” He does not feel like a big boy right now.
As Rei occupies himself by pushing Keito’s hair back, Keito says, “You have to get off my lap for me to leave you here, you know.”
With all the grace that a vampire should have, Rei leans backwards until he falls to the hardwood. It fucking hurts, and not in a fun way like Keito’s bite. He cackles like a witch. Not the spooky entity his family calls themselves. Just for fun, he howls like a werewolf too.
Adjusting his clothing, Keito rises to his feet. “Stop that.”
Rei growls, then laughs at himself for it. To nobody’s surprise, Keito seems unamused by Rei’s state. His lips part for a moment, but they close when he apparently finds nothing to say. Smiling wide, Rei waves like a princess at Keito until he makes his way out of the room. Then his hand drops to the floor, and he stares holes into the ceiling.
This fucking blows. This godforsaken building is empty except for him. He wants to sit in Keito’s lap again. Or Wataru’s. Or Madara’s. He’d take Tsumugi’s too. Anybody, really, as long as they’d bite him. He lifts his hand to examine his wrist. Thank God, Keito didn’t notice his scars. The light’s been off this whole time, the room’s only lit by the moon. How tranquil.
Rei squints in the moonlight and sees the faint red outline of Keito’s teeth. He fits his mouth over it. Doesn’t bite down, it’s not as good if he does it himself. Just holds it there.
Fuck, this hangover’s gonna be brutal.