Work Text:
The rain fell with an almost rude insistence, as if the sky had decided to open a faucet and then forgot to shut it off. The entire forest was wrapped in a mist so thick it looked like smoke from an irritated chimney. Between the trees, two figures walked through the storm, each holding an umbrella.
Kieran carried a transparent umbrella decorated with tiny silver moons that shimmered every time a raindrop hit them. He watched the droplets smack against the surface as if they were tiny water bullets.
The forest smelled of wet wood, crushed leaves, freshly stirred earth. And he... he just smelled like a soaked vampire.
—This is the perfect weather to get depressed—
He muttered.
Cedric, a few steps ahead, carried a black umbrella, so black it seemed to absorb light. He held it with that typical “I am a 300 year old gothic gentleman” aura he always adopted, even though he was only twenty.
—Kieran—
He said suddenly, without looking back.
—Do you know why we’re here?—
Kieran sighed.
—Brother, please, just tell me. My umbrella is seconds away from quitting.—
Cedric ignored him.
—Do you remember when we were kids?—
Kieran blinked.
Oh. Oh no.
That was how dangerous conversations began.
He remembered... of course he remembered. The puddles, the freedom, the laughter. The one time in his childhood when the word childhood actually applied before life turned into tragedy.
—Yes...—
He answered softly.
—We always went out when it rained. And I used to prank you. A lot...—
He paused.
—Too much, according to you.—
Cedric nodded with theatrical nostalgia.
—Those days were simple. Full of innocence.—
Kieran smiled, a little sadly.
—Yeah... I miss them.—
Silence returned, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was that cushioned silence only rain could create.
And then...
SPLAT!
Something wet, heavy, cold, and absolutely disgusting landed on his shoulder.
Kieran looked down. Mud. On his favorite black jacket, limited edition, handmade, imported, blessed by the clan itself.
Slowly, with slow motion horror, he turned his head toward Cedric.
Cedric... was smiling. Smiling like a villain in a cheap opera.
—I told you I’d get my revenge someday.—
Kieran dropped his umbrella. It hit the ground like a fallen hero.
—Cedric Callisto...—
He murmured in a deadly tone.
—You’ve declared war.—
Cedric let his umbrella drop too, with all the elegance of an aristocratic duel.
—By the ancestral rights of older brothers.—
Both crouched at the same time.
Both grabbed mud.
Both looked at each other.
And war erupted.
The first projectile flew from Kieran’s hands like an angry mud comet, shooting toward its target with all the dignity of a flying potato. Cedric dodged by spinning around with completely unnecessary elegance, as if he were in a dance competition rather than in the middle of an ambush.
—Why are you moving like that? We’re just having a mud fight!—
Kieran yelled.
—I’m naturally dramatic—
Cedric replied while launching another attack.
PLOP!
Direct hit on Kieran’s forehead.
The younger brother growled like an irritated bat. He jumped into a puddle, landed on his knees, and grabbed double ammunition.
—This is for ruining my jacket!—
—This is for that mud ball when you were six!—
—That was ten years ago!—
—Resentment is eternal!—
They ran, slipped, chased each other through the mist, crashed into a tree, shouted insults no respectable vampire should use, laughed like idiots, and slowly became unrecognizable mud creatures.
Cedric fell first. Not because he lacked skill, but because Kieran threw a mud ball so big it could technically be classified as a blunt weapon.
—Surrender—
Kieran said, covered in mud up to his eyelashes.
Cedric raised a hand.
—Never.—
He threw mud straight at Kieran’s face. And they kept fighting.
Thirty minutes later, both were unrecognizable. More mud than vampire, they walked toward the Callisto Mansion with a dignity they absolutely did not deserve. Every step made a sound:
SQUELCH... SQUELCH... SQUELCH...
The vampire guards froze. A maid dropped a porcelain vase, another vampire crossed himself even though he didn’t believe in anything.
Cedric tilted his head as if he were a nobleman leaving an elegant ball instead of someone who had just lost a mud war.
Kieran walked like a soldier who had seen things.
Mr.Callisto appeared on the staircase of the foyer, a book in hand. He saw them, blinked, inhaled deeply, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
—I’m not going to ask.—
—Better—
Both brothers answered in unison.
They began climbing the stairs, leaving muddy footprints like an obvious crime scene.
—Kieran—
Cedric murmured, smiling proudly.
—What?—
—It was a good war.—
Kieran nodded.
—Yeah... but I won.—
—Blatant lie!—
And they started arguing as they left a trail of disaster behind them.