Work Text:
“Your eyes are glowing again.”
To his credit, Kisuke doesn’t even glance up from the numbers he’s looking at.
“Thank you for that enlightening information. Anything else you want to point out for me?” Kisuke asks.
The uncharacteristically snippy tone sets off warning bells in Ichigo’s head. For the past week and then some, Kisuke has been down here in the lab working on some new experiment. Ichigo knows because he’s come over every single day to see his lover and every single day, Kisuke’s been in the exact same spot, hunched over at an inhuman angle, pen in hand and papers spread across his desk.
“When’s the last time you ate?” Ichigo asks, letting himself further into the room.
This time, Kisuke does look up from his work, but it’s only to glare daggers Ichigo so he’s not sure it’s much of a win.
“I don’t know and I don’t care. I don’t need to feed as regularly as you seem to think, Ichigo,” Kisuke says. “I’ve gone much longer than a week or two with no blood.”
Ichigo scoffs, “And just how good did you feel afterwards? If you’re not careful, you’ll turn into a ravenous beast,” he teases. It’s a little exaggeratory, but Ichigo isn’t against a little hyperbole to get what he wants. Vampires like Kisuke are undead creatures in the first place, so it’s not like he’ll lose his mind from a little hunger. But that doesn’t mean that Ichigo is any happier that his lover is going hungry when he’s right here, practically offering himself on a silver platter, happy to let Kisuke feed on his blood until he’s had his fill.
The sigh Kisuke lets out is more dramatic than upset. Maybe he realised that his tone wasn’t helping to convince Ichigo that he was fine. “Ichi-chan, we both know that I only feed off of you, so why are you even bothering to ask?”
Ichigo feels a curl of pride and possessiveness at the reminder. He’s almost positive that Kisuke said it for that exact reason. He’d like to think it’s because he appreciates Ichigo’s possessive nature, and that might be a part of it, but realistically it’s a manipulation tactic. A very obvious one, the bastard. Not that Ichigo ever expects anything else. “I’m asking because you haven’t fed off of me for almost two weeks, Kisuke,” he says. He’s torn between exasperation and fondness.
Kisuke hums, but Ichigo can tell he’s doing it out of obligation and not because he actually cares. “I’ll feed when I finally break through on this new drug. It’s supposed to mimic the feeling of my venom,” he says.
Despite himself, Ichigo is a little curious. The vampire venom doesn’t work on him like it does other humans on account of his weird (and very uncertain) ancestry, so he’s always wondered what it would feel like. He’s heard that some humans just relax but that for a lot of others, it makes the experience of being drank from almost… erotic.
Like he can sense the path Ichigo’s mind is going down, Kisuke smirks over at him. Ichigo’s cheeks feel warm.
“Still. You need to feed, and then you can go back to finishing off your experiments,” Ichigo insists. Determined to not be turned away, Ichigo makes his way across the room.
“Leave,” Kisuke tries.
Ichigo deflects the suggestion with barely a thought. He raises an eyebrow at his pouting lover. “You know that your suggestions don’t work on me,” he says.
“Unless you want them to,” Kisuke points out, because he always has to have the last word. Ichigo rolls his eyes and ignores the flash of times where Ichigo had been quite happy to let the vampy suggestions roll over him. His cheeks burn anyway and Kisuke looks far smugger than Ichigo is comfortable with.
“Fine. But right now, all I want is for you to feed off of me so that you’re not starving yourself for an extra five minutes with this little experiment,” Ichigo says. He’s close enough to touch Kisuke now and it takes almost no effort to pull Kisuke out of his chair. He can tell that Kisuke is fighting against his strength but it’s a futile effort. Whatever unique brand of creature Ichigo is, he has the strength of a werewolf on steroids. Sure, if the vampire wanted to hurt him, they would be playing a very different game right now, but that’s the absolute last thing Kisuke wants to do, so there’s nothing to be done except allow Ichigo to pull him towards the door.
“If you’re going to make me feed on you, we can just do that in here,” Kisuke complains as Ichigo leads him through the halls of their home.
“Nope,” Ichigo says. “You gave that right up when you argued about eating with me for several minutes. Now you’re going to take a break.”
Kisuke struggles against Ichigo’s grip a little harder. “This is inhumane treatment!” he protests.
“You’re not a human,” Ichigo says dryly. Keeping ahold of Kisuke is more effort than he's willing to admit. It’s ridiculous how someone can be several hundred years old and still act like he’s a toddler. And it’s even more ridiculous that this is the man Ichigo fell in love with.
“That’s hardly the point here,” Kisuke protests.
Rolling his eyes, Ichigo sweeps the squirming man into his arms, sick of the constant dragging feet. It should only take a minute to get across the house and yet here they are several minutes later before of this ridiculous man. On instinct, Kisuke’s arms wrap around his neck. Ichigo expects some scratching or struggle, but instead, his lover contently snuggles closer to him. He raises an eyebrow.
“You’re warm,” Kisuke says like it’s a revelation as he squishes himself closer.
Ichigo snorts. “Some of us still have a beating heart,” he reminds.
Kisuke nips at his shoulder through his t-shirt, teeth human blunt. It’s probably intended as some kind of reprimand, but Ichigo only finds it cute. There’s probably something a psychologist could analyse from that, but he’s not overly interested in being told how fucked up he is. He already knows.
“If you’re going to bite me, do it properly,” Ichigo says.
Kisuke huffs but doesn’t bite Ichigo again. It’s almost disappointing, but it’s not like he’ll be giving the vampire a choice in a minute.
Swinging open the door to their room, Ichigo gently places Kisuke onto the bed, the vampire’s arms still around his neck. It only takes a second to realise his miscalculation, but by then it’s too late. In one swift move, Kisuke’s pulled him onto the bed as well, flipping him to be right beside where the vampire was only a moment before. His lover hovers above him, his own hands pressing Ichigo’s into the sheets.
“You’re an asshole,” Ichigo says, voice slightly rasping. He swallows against his suddenly dry throat. It’s not fair that someone can be so hot when they’re being an absolute brat.
Kisuke grins like it’s the greatest compliment. “It’s only fair I have the upper hand, Ichi-chan. I’m meant to be the predator in this relationship,” he teases.
Ichigo rolls his eyes. As if they aren’t equally as dangerous. “Did it hurt your ego, being carried around?” he asks, even though he knows it didn’t. Kisuke couldn’t care less about power dynamics and traditional hierarchies.
Humming, Kisuke leans closer. His breath is cold over Ichigo’s exposed neck. The skin tingles, almost like it’s equally as excited for what’s going to come next. From this position, Ichigo can’t see if Kisuke’s fangs are out, but somehow, he still knows.
“I just prefer how you taste when you’re surprised,” Kisuke says.
“Bullshit. We both know I taste the same no matter how I feel!” Ichigo argues despite himself.
Kisuke sniffs. “How would you know? You don’t have to drink blood to survive.”
Ichigo rolls his eyes. He opens his mouth to argue more, but then there’s the feeling of his skin opening underneath Kisuke’s fangs and all that falls from his mouth is a gasp and then a low moan.
The vampire answers in kind. Yoruichi had once explained that whatever else he was, he was practically catnip for vampires. His scent alone was enough to drive them to brink of hunger. Ichigo had asked Kisuke how he tastes one time, and his lover’s exact words were ‘you taste like sunshine and power and salvation in one high-class wine’. The memory makes Ichigo blush.
Kisuke drinks greedily, like a vampire starved and Ichigo is all to happy to let him feed for as long as he needs. His body will replenish the blood quickly enough and there’s nothing that compares to this feeling. It’s euphoric, the way he can feel his blood rushing to the surface, the pleasure and the pain blending together.
“It always amazes me just how eager you are to bleed,” Kisuke says. Ichigo’s not whether Kisuke is baiting him or aiming for something specific, but what he does know is that his lover can’t have had enough blood already. Somewhere along the line, Kisuke ended up straddling Ichigo’s midsection to get a better angle to feed from and like this, he can see every feature of his vampire, including Kisuke’s still far-too-pale skin.
“Take more.”
Kisuke huffs a laugh. “I’ve had more than enough,” he assures.
Ichigo drags Kisuke down for a kiss, licking into the vampire’s mouth with zero regard for Kisuke’s fangs. He lets his tongue be sliced open on purpose just to hear Kisuke moan when the blood fills both their mouths. It should be disgusting but the taste of Ichigo-and-Kisuke is enough to make them both moan. They’re swapping saliva and blood like it’s their life mission. It might as well be, for all Ichigo’s determined to see his lover well fed and satiated.
Kisuke finally pulls back, looking down at Ichigo with that vaguely amused smirk that says he knows what Ichigo is doing. Good, he’s not trying to be subtle. He’s making a point.
“I can tell you didn’t take enough,” Ichigo insists. He’s not lying either. It’s not a skill he can put a name to, but he just knows. Hell, he can taste that Kisuke hasn’t taken enough. His lover still tastes too much like himself and not enough like Ichigo.
“Ichi-chan-”
Ichigo cuts him off by pulling him down for another feverish kiss. The cut on his tongue has already healed thanks to his regenerative abilities, and Ichigo wishes not for the first time that he could turn that ability off sometimes. He knows that the holes on his neck have already faded into nothing as well.
Swiping his tongue along the seam of Kisuke’s lips, Ichigo wants to roll his eyes when Kisuke refuses to open his mouth again. In retaliation, he just bites down on his own lip until he can taste the familiar traces of copper. It’s a dirty ploy, but for all his self-control, not even Kisuke can resist the taste of Ichigo’s blood. His mouth opens for Ichigo easily as he fails to fight the vampiric urge to drink more.
They break apart when Ichigo’s lip has already healed. Kisuke looks like he’s trying to glare, but he’s too amused by Ichigo’s persistence to really be upset.
“You just like the adrenaline rush from the bite,” Kisuke accuses.
Flushing, Ichigo looks away but doesn’t deny it. “If you already know that, then why won’t you drink more from me already?”
Kisuke huffs. “I can never win against you,” he says finally. Then he’s leaning over and biting into the other side of Ichigo’s neck again.
Ichigo grins.
Hours later, the two of them lay together, Kisuke’s hunger assuaged for the moment and the post-orgasmic bliss settling over them like a cozy blanket.
“I really would have been fine,” Kisuke insists into the darkness.
Ichigo hums. It’s not like he didn’t already know that.
“I won’t let you get away with this again,” Kisuke threatens.
Rolling his eyes, Ichigo pulls Kisuke closer. Even full and under these blankets, his vampire is exactly the same warm as the rest of their bed. He nuzzles into Kisuke’s neck and breathes in the familiar scent of Kisuke-and-him and fights the urge to grin again. “If you didn’t fight me over it, I wouldn’t have had to make the extreme choices,” he reminds.
Kisuke doesn’t argue, but Ichigo knows he’s still pouting.
Leaning down, Ichigo presses a chaste kiss to Kisuke’s mouth. It tastes like victory.