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Oh no, was the last thought he had before sinking into oblivion.
Images flash before his eyes, fast enough that he can barely comprehend the information thrust upon him, overwhelming his senses. Pain tears at both his body and mind, horrors depicted so vividly and graphically his body trembles from the phantom pain. All of it comes and goes in a split second, and he wrenches his fang out of Vanitas’s neck just in time to avoid the dagger aiming straight for his eye.
“Woah there, Vani. Where did you—” He ducks under the incoming swipe. “ —get that knife from— ack!”
“You idiot! I told you a million times not to put your mouth anywhere near me! Who’s worthy of bragging about perfect control now, you git?
“Hey— slow down! It wasn’t on purpose! You moved your wrist the same time I was kissing it! It got pushed onto my fang!”
The knife cut through the air next to Noe’s head with a loud swish and embedded itself in the wall. He pales at the threat delivered and hesitantly meets Vanitas’s glare from across the room, still on the bed they’d been cuddling mere moments before.
The smile on his face is dangerously peaceful, chilling their surroundings to a good negative.
Well he’s screwed.
“Why, my dearest. Are you implying that I’m at fault here?”
Nope. He’s going to have to get out of here in the next 8 seconds if he ever wishes to see the morning sun again.
He moves, dashing forward with a goal in mind : escape via window. The door is not an option; he’ll lose precious seconds just to get the knob to cooperate. His fingers grasp the fabric of the curtains, hope so close he could taste it as he places a knee on the windowsill, preparing for the jump—
A wire appears, wrapping itself on his bicep.
He stares at it, confused. Then immediately, oh no.
Vanitas yanks at the wire from the other end and Noe follows, helpless like a fish caught and mind just as blank. His back hits the bed frame and pain flares up, disorientating him once again. Seeing this, Vanitas takes the advantage and pulls him into a headlock.
A brief struggle ensues, with Noe thrashing around and Vanitas determined to keep him pinned. Eventually though, he settles down. It would be easy to fight his way to freedom, but not a wise decision to incur more of the other man’s wrath, especially since he had already been caught.
After a while, Noe hears the quiet sound of Vanitas’s blade get sheathed, before the man pulls Noe closer to the bed and flings his other arm around Noe’s neck in an awkward imitation of a hug. Noe allows himself an internal sigh of relief. The danger has passed— for now. They sit there in silence, both of them catching their breaths.
When Vanitas leans down some time later, face close to Noe’s, his breathing is slow and deliberately steady. In a soft voice, he asks, “Are you ok?”
Noe stiffens, recalling what he’d seen. “It was not a pleasurable experience. For either of us.”
Vanitas doesn’t reply. Rather, he doesn’t need to.
Noe understands him from the way his arms tense around his neck. A wave of silence passes before Noe speaks again.
“Thank you.”
A cracked, questioning sound comes from Vanitas’s throat. “What for?”
“For surviving, enduring. Staying strong until the day you found people who wouldn’t hurt you.”
His arms grow tense again, fingers digging into his palms before letting go. There are only fingernail indents left behind and Noe has reached out to touch them before he realised he was doing it, caressing his hands and kissing over the marks.
“I promise to stay by your side until you wish otherwise someday,” Noe presses another kiss to the side of his wrist, warm lips around cold skin. “Will you let me?”
And because he already knows the answer, he adds, casual as can be, “By the way, can I drink from you again? I only got a drop earlier so I’m curious about the taste now.”
“Shut up!”