Work Text:
Rin hasn’t been feeding and it’s pissing Yoichi off.
He gets it. He does (or as much as he can), but Rin missed two goals yesterday in a way that if it had been anyone else, Rin would have called them lukewarm. It’s slowing him down.
It’s not like it’s a secret. Sae has kept his status as a vampire public for as long as he’s been in the spotlight, and with the two of them being brothers, anyone could put two and two together, but Yoichi gets it because the world is still weird about people like them somehow. They’re either afraid of getting eaten or think they have an unfair advantage, but what advantage? Rin plays well because he works hard, and he’s a genius. Sae too. Anyone who’s ever played against them, which is now every single person left in Blue Lock, knows that.
So if they lose—if Rin loses—because he’s weakening himself, then he has no right to be on this team anymore. He has no right to be on this field anymore.
So Yoichi confronts him, and he does it the moment he finds Rin folded over on a bench after running himself to death for the fifth time this week.
Rin doesn’t look up when he approaches, but he doesn’t have to. Yoichi taps his cheek with a water bottle.
“Drink.”
“Fuck off, Isagi.”
“Drink, asshole.”
Rin huffs and takes the bottle from him. He sits up with a glare he doesn’t remove as he drinks the second best liquid for him.
Now it’s just time to convince him to take the first.
“You’re not feeding,” Yoichi says.
“Worry about yourself,” he says. “Your protein intake is pathetic.”
“So is your platelet,” he counters, and Rin’s lips press into an annoyed line. “Aren’t they giving you bags?”
“Of course they are,” he says. “The last thing anyone needs is for me to snap and eat one of you.”
If that was meant to unnerve him, it didn’t work. “And that’s what’s going to happen if you keep pushing yourself like this.”
“It’s fine,” Rin says and takes another sip of water, but the way his mouth puckers unsatisfied gives him away. “I don’t need it.”
“Yes, you do.”
“And what would you know?”
Yoichi takes a breath, unable to give him a proper answer. Truthfully he doesn’t know any more than anyone else does, but what he does know is that a vampire without blood is like a human without food, and a person cannot survive on nothing. An athlete especially.
“When’s the last time you fed?”
Rin sits back and sets his bottle next to him. “I tried sucking on a bag a few weeks ago. I couldn’t get it down.”
Yoichi’s eyes widen. “It’s been that long?”
“Don’t look at me like that. I know what I’m doing.”
“You’re killing yourself,” Yoichi says, and Rin makes sure to direct his glare to the other side of the room to emphasize just how much he does not give a shit about Yoichi’s intervention. “When’s the last time you drank from a human?”
That does get his attention. “It was before we came here.”
“And?”
“I’m not allowed to drink from anyone,” Rin says. “If they don’t kick me out, I’ll lose the trust of everyone here, and no, I don’t need it, but it’s really fucking annoying when you need someone to pass to you, but they’re too scared to kick in a straight line. And besides, you’re all terrible enough. The blood loss would affect your performance, and I prefer winning than watching a bunch of tired thralls stumble around like idiots.”
Yoichi can’t help but roll his eyes, but there’s reasoning behind his motivations, even if they’re stubborn.
He would weaken anyone he feeds on, making them a liability, but it would also open the door of accusing Rin of making his competition useless. He would either get kicked out and have his reputation ruined, or no one in here would respect him enough to give him the ball.
Even if Rin is perfectly capable of taking it for himself, he would have to go back to being the kind of person who only plays that way.
And that Rin sucked.
So Yoichi comes up with an offer, one that stirs oddly in his chest, but Rin would be a damn fool to refuse.
“So feed on me.” Rin’s eyes widen, and Yoichi folds his arms across his chest. “If I’m as useless as you say I am every single day, then no one will notice if my performance craps out every now and then. What do you need to keep yourself functioning? Once a week?”
“About so, yes.”
“And I wouldn’t tell anyone,” he says. “I don’t walk around naked, so no one will see the bite, and I’m not interested in fucking you over. If I beat you and it’s because you’re drained, then it doesn’t count, and I’m not here for easy wins.”
“Like you could beat me even if I was dead.”
“Rin.”
Rin doesn’t bother hiding his annoyance.
“Then drink the bags.”
“I can’t,” he says. “Sae can’t either, but he’s always had people willing to donate, so no one notices. I can’t drink out of a bag, I’ve tried.”
“Does it make you sick?”
“Worse.” Yoichi swears and runs his fingers through his hair. “So leave it alone.”
“I will if you take my offer.”
“That’s not leaving it alone,” he says.
“Does anyone else know you’re not drinking or have you been dumping your bags in the toilet,” he says, earning another glare. Yoichi leans towards him and lowers his voice. “Take my offer and quit fucking yourself over. It’s like playing against a sad old man, and I’m sick of it.”
Rin grabs him by the collar with a snarl before he shoves him away. “Get out of my sight.”
Yoichi walks away with an annoyed wave. If Rin wants to throw himself away, Yoichi won’t fight for him. He has other problems to worry about, starting with upping his defense and his stamina. He doesn’t need Rin, and Rin clearly doesn’t need him or anybody else. He shouldn’t have wasted his time.
The next day Rin skips a game, and it throws Yoichi all out of whack. He’s sick allegedly, but Yoichi’s stomach churns the entire time because he knows deep down what’s really wrong with him.
It shouldn’t be like this. Rin could feed a little without indulging himself, and absolutely no one would know.
Yoichi is benched in the second half for being distracted, which would be devastating if he wasn’t so damn distracted.
The scoreboard clock ticks agonizingly slow as the seconds pass like hours, and for the first time in his life, he’s completely aware of the blood in his veins. Rin needs this. One bite wouldn’t take Yoichi down anymore than having a little blood drawn would, and they both know that. But why is Rin refusing, especially if not feeding means that he can’t play?
Yoichi can’t get away fast enough.
He skips the showers completely and jogs to Rin’s room, and he knocks on the door, even though every instinct he has is telling him to yank it open, but eventually Rin opens it for him.
“You look like shit,” Yoichi says, and it’s an understatement. Rin’s hair sticks to his forehead in sickly strands, and the warmth is all but gone from his skin like something unliving. His lips are pale and raw, and there are shadows under his dull eyes that weren’t there yesterday. It hasn’t even been a day. “Fuck, Rin.”
“It’s a good thing your opinion means nothing to me,” he drawls, and Yoichi bullies past him into his room in a rage. “Get out of my room.”
“Fuck you, sit down,” he says and points to the bed. Rin blinks at him unmoved. “Please.”
“That’s pathetic.”
“It’s all I’ve got.”
Rin watches him like he expects Yoichi to give up and leave, but Yoichi did not make it this far by being polite and gentle. And Rin kind of needs his ass kicked.
He shuts the door behind him so no one can see them, and he grabs him by his shirt and drags him to the bed himself with a purposeful shove. “Sit down.”
“I could snap your neck without trying.”
“Not like this, you can’t,” he says and takes Rin’s face in his hands. “Rin, look at yourself. You look like shit now, so what are you going to look like tomorrow?”
“It’s none of your business,” he says.
“It is my business because we’re teammates.”
“Don’t get sentimental, they’ll rotate us out again in a week.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”
Rin scowls bitterly and looks away, but he doesn’t deny it. He doesn’t deny it because he can’t. The two of them are one mind on the field, or they would be if Rin was fucking on it. Victory comes to them like second nature, and Rin isn’t only fucking himself by being stubborn here. As much as Yoichi hates to admit it, he needs him.
And now it’s clear how much they need each other.
Yoichi sits down on the bed on the opposite side from where he’s looking, and he pulls off the top part of his uniform.
“What are you doing?”
“Bite me somewhere no one will see that won’t affect how I play,” he says. “I didn’t get a chance to look at donor anatomy before coming here, but I’m sure you can figure it out.”
“I’m not feeding on you.”
“Don’t argue with your food.”
Rin looks at him like he could laugh if he had a sense of humor, and Yoichi takes it as a compliment. He looks over him, taking his torso in and measuring him with his eyes, but Yoichi doesn’t shy away. He knows what he’s doing here.
Or he doesn’t really, but he’s determined enough to make it work.
“You stink,” Rin says.
“I didn’t get a chance to hit the showers after the game.”
“And you expect me to put my mouth on you like that,” he says. “That’s disgusting.”
“Then be picky and die,” Yoichi says. “Here lies Itoshi Rin. Crybaby bitch boy.”
“Fuck you.”
“Bite me.”
Rin levels him a glare that could curdle milk, but Yoichi doesn’t flinch, back down, or laugh. He can either grow up and feed, or turn into whatever happens to vampires when they don’t.
What does happen when they don’t?
“What are you going to look like tomorrow?”
“Like shit, according to you.”
“Rin,” he says. “I’m asking.”
“I don’t know,” he says. “I’ve never gone this long without feeding before, and I’ve never met anyone else who has either.”
The honesty is inspiring.
Isagi takes a breath. “Look. I get not wanting to get caught, but you know I’ll keep your secret, so tell me. Are you not willing to feed on me because there’s someone outside of this place who–?”
“I don’t let myself have distractions, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Trying every angle I can think of here, and from what I’ve heard, it could be a pretty damn good one.”
“It’s not relevant,” he says.
“If you fed on me, I wouldn’t be a distraction,” he says. “You already think I’m useless, so it won’t matter. Feed and go back to being yourself, and we’ll pretend it never happened until you need it again.”
“You’re not as useless as you were when you started, and if I fed on you, it would slow you down.”
“For a day,” he says. “Tomorrow we don’t have a game. I planned to run a few drills with Chigiri and Reo, but they’ll be fine without me. If you stay like this, you’ll never train again.”
“It’ll hurt.”
“I don’t care.”
“I’ll be in your head.”
“I don’t care.”
“There are side effects,” he says. “Nightmares. Loyalty. Obsession.”
“I. Don’t. Care.” Yoichi says. “I’m already obsessed with beating you. I already consider us teammates. I already have the worst dreams about you. I don’t care.”
Rin grabs his face and turns him away to expose his shoulder, and Yoichi holds his breath. This will hurt, but coming this far just to watch Rin fade away into nothing will hurt more. He can take it. “What kind of dreams?”
“You’ll get a glimpse when you look inside my head,” he says. “Don’t worry about it.”
“And you’re okay with that.”
“I’m okay with anything that gets you back on the field,” he says. “And if I’m keeping your secret, you’ll be able to keep mine.”
Rin doesn’t warn him before he bites.
Yoichi fights back a scream as a pair of extended canines puncture his flesh, sinking into the muscle without any mercy. It’s agony amplified by a thousand, and bile bubbles up into his throat from sheer pain alone.
But as Rin drinks, a warmth spreads right from the source, and the right side of Yoichi’s body numbs. He closes his eyes, and brilliant colors and shapes dance across his lids.
It’s surprisingly pleasant. His head clears for the first time in his ages as his body cools, and soon he feels himself sink.
His back hits the bed like a cloud as cold hands roam across his chest.
No, not roam.
Look.
Rin checks his pulse, and then he hoists him up and arranges Yoichi onto his pillow. Yoichi blinks his blurry eyes open to blood red lips and dark green hair hanging over heavy eyes above him.
He looks better.
Have his eyelashes always been this long?
“How were my thoughts?” Yoichi croaks.
“Lukewarm,” Rin says, half in a pant, and Yoichi smiles. He doesn’t believe him.
“It’s gonna hurt like hell tomorrow, isn’t it.”
“You’ll hate me,” he says, and Yoichi swats up at him until he can grab his shirt.
“I already hate you, remember,” he says weakly, giving him a tug. “Let me see you.”
Rin either lets himself be pulled to him on purpose, or Yoichi has uncovered an ungodly strength today. Only time will tell.
“You look alive again.”
“You look like shit,” Rin says.
“Whose fault is that?”
“Yours.”
Yoichi hums and smiles lazily up at him, not sorry at all. “Say thank you.”
“No.”
“Come on,” he says. “I won’t tell.”
“Do you know you are the noisiest blood bag I have ever bitten into it?”
“Who just saved your life”
“Don’t think so highly of yourself, Isagi.”
Yoichi nods and lets his head roll to the side away from him. “Guess you didn’t see anything that interesting in my head.”
“I didn’t,” he says. “It was unsurprisingly empty.”
Yoichi manages a tired laugh of amusement. “You asshole.”
His eyes grow heavy, and Rin doesn’t argue or fight back. The last thing he feels for the night is a cold hand carefully on his jaw, and when he dreams, he dreams of Rin. It’s not like it’s any different than any other night. So what if he’s in his head? He was already there.
At least now he can play again.
Isn’t that all that matters?
Maybe now that stubborn bastard will stop fighting him about it.
Somehow he spends the night in Rin’s room, and Rin doesn’t kick him out.