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Noé and Vanitas both stumbled back into what must have been the remains of an old, crumbled chapel, where they'd taken refuge.
Vanitas collapsed on the floor in front of a large, stained glass window. He sat with his head down and his hands on his thighs, huffing and out of breath.
Noé, after a few seconds, joined him on the floor and scooted closer towards the smaller boy.
They were several hours away from the nearest city. The stained glass window behind them was shattered and broken in several places, letting all the cold air in. The alter was nothing but blackened stone.
Their coats were damp with rain and their hair was still dripping. He glanced downwards. Vanitas's leg was still bleeding from where a curse-bearer's claws had caught him.
And dear God was Noé starving.
He hadn't said anything yet. Not out loud. But the ache had been steadily building in his throat and stomach for days. Dull at first, but now it was barely resistible. Especially with the sweet aroma of Vanitas's blood being so pungent in the room now.
Vanitas pretended not to notice at first. And that was fine. That was expected. But obviously, with the boy being a self-proclaimed vampire doctor, Vanitas could tell what was wrong.
"You don't seem well." Vanitas said, his voice wasn't sharp or cocky for once. No, but it wasn't soft either. It sounded restrained, like there was something he wasn't necessarily saying.
Noé looked up slowly. "Neither do you."
Vanitas didn't reply. He just folded his arms across his chest, pulled his coat tighter, and looked away.
They sat in silence for a while. The rain outside had slowed to a soft patter above. Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled.
Then Noé whispered. "It's been four days."
Vanitas's jaw tensed. "I know."
"I can't wait much longer."
Another long pause. Then, "I don't have any blood for you." Vanitas said flatly. "We haven't seen another human in two days and we're too far from the city. And i'm not going to let you feed off of whatever is left on those plague-ridden corpses, who knows what kind of diseases you could retract."
Noé swallowed thickly. The hunger curled tightly inside him. "I know." He looked down, he couldn't bear to look at Vanitas right now. "That's just why I'm telling you now."
Vanitas narrowed his eyes. "What exactly are you saying?"
"You know what, Vanitas." He murmured, ashamed.
"No," Vanitas stood up and backed up a couple of feet, crossing his arms again. "We've been over this before."
Obviously, how could he forget. The chapel was too cold for this. Noé's limbs felt heavy.
"I know you haven't let me touch your blood before, and for a good reason too, but there's nobody else here now Vanitas. Just you."
"I said no."
"I'll die if I don't feed." Noé practically pleaded, shuffling a few inches closer to Vanitas now, but still on the ground.
Vanitas whipped around. "Then bite your damn toungue Noé! I'm not-" He stopped. His fists were clenched at his sides, shaking. "You don't understand. It's not just blood. Not to me. You'll see everything. You'll get inside my head!"
Noé looked at him for a long time. And then, the worst thing he could've possibly said in response - "I don't care."
Vanitas's face went white. "Noé-"
Noé stood up and reached for him. But, of course, Vanitas took several steps back in return. "I'm sorry, that sounded awfully insensitive."
He sighed and started over. "What I meant was that I already saw most of the stuff you probably didn't want me to when I drank from Mikhail. And it didn't change how I saw you. How I feel about you. If that's what you're scared of."
Vanitas was frozen.
Noé continued. "Your blood, it smells so very sweet. Like lillies, almost."
He tried stepping closer to Vanitas again. "I've wanted it, wanted you, for months, but I didn't ask again because I knew you didn't want me to. I know you're afraid of being seen Vanitas. I know you hate it."
This time, he was able to get close enough to Vanitas to grab his hands. "Vanitas, please. I'm not asking because I'm curious, I'm asking because I need it. I need you."
That broke something. Vanitas turned away again. His shoulders curled inward. For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn't speak. He just stood there, breathing hard and trembling.
Then, he walked past Noé and back to where they had been sitting originally. He unbuttoned his large black coat and tossed it aside, into the ground.
He reached up and pulled on his collar a little, moving it down enough to expose his throat.
Noé's breath caught.
"Just enough to keep you standing." Vanitas said hoarsely, avoiding eye contact. "No more than that."
Noé didn't move. "Are you sure?" He hadn't expected Vanitas to agree.
"Don't make me say it again." Vanitas muttered. "I'll change my mind." And with that, he sank back down onto the floor next to his coat.
Noé, too, lowered himself down onto the ground and crawled over to where Vanitas was sitting against the wall.
"I'll be careful." He whispered.
"You won't be. It's fine."
Noé leaned down and carefully undid the first couple of buttons on Vanitas's shirt, to have better access to bite.
Noé stared. His shirt was now open just enough to reveal the pale stretch of skin above his collarbones. He was delicate. His skin was smooth beside from a few faint scars.
Vanitas was flushed slightly, from either the cold, or nerves. Dear God, he was beautiful. Noé always thought so, although that wasn't something he has openly admitted before. But especially now, it was very evident. The moonlight that spilled in from the cracked windows caught on the sharp line of his jaw. His throat fluttered as he swallowed.
He was tense and holding completely still. Every breath he took was tight and shallow. Controlled.
"Go on," Vanitas said, his voice low. "Don't make me say it again."
Noé's mouth was dry. He rested his left hand on Vanitas's thigh to stabilize himself and the other on his shoulder, keeping the shirt out of his way so that he could bite.
Noé leaned down and brushed his lips against Vanitas's throat.
Vanitas flinched. Not hard or visible, but Noé could feel the way he tensed up and how his muscles twitched under his palm. "You can stop me at any moment." Noé whispered. "If it hurts, or if it's too much."
Vanitas didn't say anything, but he nodded. He leaned back and rested his head against the wall, closing his eyes.
Noé leaned in. He went slowly, reverently, as though he were approaching something sacred. Something he could worship.
His breath fanned across Vanitas's neck. He leaned down and licked his skin, finding the best place to bite. He heard the other boy's breath hitch and his heart beat quicken, though it was already racing.
Then, he bit. Vanitas gasped and dug his nails into Noé's shoulders.
The taste hit him immediately. Sweet. So very sweet. Noé had drank lots of blood before, but God, nothing compared to this. How Vanitas tasted. His blood was warm. Like sunlight was somehow melted into a liquid form.
It was intoxicating. Like it was meant only for him.
He could hear Vanitas gasping and lighting groaning underneath him, fingers clutching weakly at Noé's coat. Though, he could feel him begin to relax.
It was beautiful. He was beautiful.
He continued to drink. He didn't lap at it, didn't rush.
And then the flood began. The memories didn't trickle in, no, they poured.
Children screaming. Scalpel blades and needles gleaming. Blood. The feeling of several hands pinning him down.
Noé stumbled as the images continued to slam into him. Vanitas, gagging on his own breath and saliva, as Luna's mark of possession gleamed and flared on his wrist. Vanitas, curled up in the corner of an unsterile lab, eyes wild with terror and his body thin and shivering.
Noé wanted to pull away, to stop the horrific flow of images, but Vanitas's hand was suddenly gripping the back of his head. Not pushing him away, but keeping him there. Vanitas let out a small, breathy noise.
Like he almost wanted someone to finally see him. And so, Noé continued to drink. Not out of hunger or survival anymore, but of love. Admiration.
He felt Vanitas slouch a little underneath him, just enough to remind him about the limits of the human body. When he finally pulled away from Vanitas's throat, breath shaking, he gently licked up the remaining traces of blood that was dripping down his neck and collarbone.
Vanitas's eyes were still closed. He was trembling slightly. And Noé could see how a couple of tears had been trickling from the corners of his eyes.
Noé drew in a breath, his lips wet and crimson. Then, he leaned forward again, resting his forehead against Vanitas's.
Noé left his hands where they were. One hand resting on Vanitas's waist, the other still intertwined in his hair.
"It's okay." He murmured. "It's okay." He continued to brush his fingers through Vanitas's hair. "I didn't take too much, I was careful, you're alright."
"Yeah," Vanitas's eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes. "Yeah, you were."
Noé shifted slightly. He brushed his thumb under Vanitas's chin, to check the bite. It was clean, and already healing smoothly. Regardless, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the spot. Featherlight.
"There." Noé whispered. "Kiss it better, right?"
At this, Vanitas gave a small laugh. Noé thought it was cute. Very cute. He felt his cheeks flush to match the younger boy beneath him.
"You taste like spring." Noé murmured, rubbing his thumb up and down Vanitas's cheek. "Warm and sweet."
"You're ridiculous." Vanitas gave a tired snort.
"It's true."
Vanitas didn't argue, just looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "I used to think if anyone saw that side of me, I mean really saw it, that they wouldn't want to be around me anymore." His voices cracked at the end of his sentence.
Noé's hand wrapped around the other boy's, fingers threading together perfectly. "I see you. I'm still here. And i'm not going anywhere."
And Vanitas, for the first time, let his full weight fall into him. Not just his body, but everything he's ever carried. He let Noé hold him.
After a few moments of silence, Noé spoke again. "I didn't know I could feel like this."
"You've drank blood before, have you not?" Vanitas teases.
Noé shook his head slowly. "No, that's not what I meant. I meant," He paused. "I didn't know I could feel this way about a person."
Vanitas perked up at this. "What do you mean?"
"I didn't know I could love somebody so deeply."
Vanitas started at him, wide-eyed, not blinking.
Noé looked away immediately, ashamed of how it just spilled out like that. He put his hand to his mouth. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
Vanitas was still silent.
"I know you don't feel the same. And I get, but I just couldn't, I don't know, I can't keep pretending that-"
He didn't finish. Because suddenly Vanitas was grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him forward.
And then he was kissing him. The world seemed to halt. Vanitas's mouth was warm against his own.
When they parted, Vanitas didn't speak right away. He looked shaken and furious with himself. He kept opening and closing his mouth like he had something he wanted to say.
"It's okay." Noé touched his cheek gently. "You don't have to say it."
And Noé understood. He didn't need the words, not yet.
Not when Vanitas's eyes were on him like that. Like a vow. Something they were scared to begin.
But maybe, something they were willing to try.