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Cross had always been a bit of a paranoid guy. Being the son of a high-ranking military official tended to have that kind of effect on people. He’d been raised on safety drills, protein bars, and a whole lot of tough love.
He’d left that life now, but old habits were hard to break.
So, while he didn’t mean to snoop into Epic’s personal business, seeing his roommate return battered and bruised every couple of weeks from his shift as a night guard in a nearby amusement park didn’t sit right with him. He was worried, plain and simple. Even more so because his friend side-stepped his gentle coaxing whenever he tried to get him to rest and recover. Or at the very least, eat something. Every time, he would only give him the same sardonic smile and beg him not to concern himself with his clumsy little mistakes.
Well, too bad for him, because Cross was greatly concerned!
Some would have considered him following Epic on his next few shifts a step too far. He could, by definition, have been considered a stalker. But, Cross reasoned, it wasn’t as if he could get to the bottom of that situation by twirling his thumbs at home. Sitting idly by when those he cared about were suffering wasn’t how he’d been raised. Not that he'd been taught to care, either. Self-preservation had been key in his household. But laziness had been looked down upon more than his bleeding soul. Besides, he'd taken pride in being the black sheep of the family.
And, sure, he hadn’t known Epic all that long. They’d started living together a few months prior. Cross had recently been kicked out by his father and had been looking for a cheap place to stay. In his search, he’d stumbled across an ad for a room with all utilities included at the price of some company and maintenance work. It had felt too good to be true at first, but Epic had yet to go back on his side of the deal. Cross owed him for it. He felt indebted to him. And, even beyond that, he just liked the guy. They shared the same sense of humor and very similar values. And their schedules aligned in a way that allowed them to spend quite a lot of time together.
They were close despite the newness of their friendship.
So, ignoring all common sense as well as his internal critic, Cross tailed Epic.
It took a few days before anything happened.
The first few nights, Epic just walked to his booth in the closed amusement park, took off his shoes, kicked up his feet, and leaned back while staring intently at the screens in front of him. For a guy who often joked about how lazy he was, he surprisingly didn’t take a single break, nor did he sneak in a cheeky little nap. He was focused throughout, even when, hour after hour, nothing noteworthy happened. Cross was struggling to keep his eyes open despite all the discipline that had been imparted to him since he was young, so that display earned his roommate a lot of admiration from him. Once the sun was close to rising, Epic dressed himself back up properly and walked home without stopping anywhere for a bite to eat or some fun. He was much more diligent than expected.
Rinse and repeat until five days in, when, finally, something changed.
Someone broke into the amusement park. A bulky dog monster with several cans of spray paint all clinking together in the bag he’d slung over his shoulder. Cross had expected Epic to just kick him out for trespassing and his poorly-concealed attempt at vandalizing the property with some graffiti and go back to minding his business (they’d sparred a few times to silence the annoying voice in the back of Cross’s mind that sounded an awful lot like his father and nagged him whenever he stood still for more than a second. He knew his roommate could handle himself), but instead, he approached the intruder while swaying his hips and dropping a few cheesy pickup lines. And then he followed the complete stranger along when the guy gestured with his head toward a dark corner without cameras.
Had Epic never been told about stranger danger?
What was he thinking?!
Of course, Cross followed him! He was a good, reliable, and responsible friend.
If it had turned out that his roommate was just having some casual fun, then he would have left him to it. He wasn’t a peeping Tom; he had no intention of sticking around for that kind of show. Even if the idea of Epic getting involved with someone in that way sat somewhat uneasily in his nonexistent stomach. It wasn’t his business.
But that didn’t end up being the case.
Instead, he was greeted by the dog monster’s bared teeth as they shattered Epic’s collarbone in his frenzied attempt to find some friction, and his thick claws intent on tearing apart the flimsy fabric of his roommate’s purple hoodie.
After the initial shock had passed, Cross hurried to summon his battle magic and intervene, but that moment of hesitation made his efforts unneeded.
The eye Epic always kept firmly shut was open and glowing a bright wine red. The light wafting off of it seemed to have a calming effect on his assailant, who soon collapsed against him. Epic didn’t bother to support his weight for long, instead electing to let him fall by the side and straddle him. His canines grew in size and sharpness (since when could they do that?!) as he did so, and he quickly sank them into the side of the dog monster’s neck with a satisfied sigh.
“What the- Epic…?” Cross found himself muttering. He stumbled back a couple of steps, unsure whether to run or stay put and demand an explanation.
Epic was a vampire.
In hindsight, that explained a lot. Everything, really.
And yet, it also didn’t make a lick of sense.
In the few months Cross had known him, Epic had never been aggressive with him. Quite the contrary, he was the most laid-back person he knew! And he wasn’t a rich loner living in a far-off mansion, either. He worked a regular job, he had friends (he’d introduced quite a few of them to Cross, emphasizing how it was important for him to have a whole support network and not become reliant on the kindness of one person), and he lived in an old apartment complex on the fourth floor without a lift. And he didn’t even have a creepy coffin lying around! He had a regular (if excessively messy) bed in his room, a gaming console with two controllers, a television, a desk with an ergonomic chair, a wardrobe, a couple of shelves full of anime figurines and shiny trinkets, normal stuff!
Epic’s eyes snapped toward him at the noise. Both were wide open. One of them was still glowing that same mesmerizing color. Now that it was aimed at Cross, he could feel his knees go wobbly, and his mind grow fuzzy. The panic he’d felt until a moment prior became distant, muted, easy to ignore. A dopey smile twisted his teeth before he even noticed the warmth that had enveloped his soul. “Oh, fuck, Cross!”. And then that glow was gone, and it was like getting dunked in cold water. Cross was fully there again, air rushed back into his nonexistent lungs, and he became starkly aware of the rattling of his bones and the shakiness of his breathing. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I’m sorry-” Epic was chanting from somewhere close; he was panicking even worse than Cross himself.
It was a bit silly, perhaps, that, despite everything that he had just discovered, the only thing Cross could think to do when seeing the horror and fear on his friend’s face was to wrap him up in a tight hug. That move brought him closer to Epic’s fangs, and he should have been concerned about that, but he wasn’t. He trusted his roommate, he realized. Even if he’d been keeping a pretty big secret from him. Even if he had just accidentally hypnotized him. He didn’t want to see him upset.
“Cross…?” Epic sounded so small, so uncertain.
“It’s alright, Dude. I’m alright” Cross reassured. Thankfully, that worked to help his friend relax somewhat. He even reciprocated the hug with the one arm that the asshole dog monster hadn’t injured.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, basking in each other’s warmth.
When they parted, Epic hesitantly stepped back toward his prey, although he waited for Cross’s silent permission before he began feeding once more. And then he still seemed to be enjoying his meal less than earlier.
In an attempt to dispel the awkward air between them, Cross crouched close to him, leaning against the wall behind him, eyes fixed on the starry sky above. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Epic’s furtive glances and the way his blush intensified with each one, but he paid them no mind. “Why do you do it like this?”. His question elicited a choked whimper from his roommate, so he hurried to clarify what he meant: Uhm- eating, I mean. You- you got hurt. You get hurt so often! There has to be a better way…”.
Cross realized belatedly that he was perhaps a little too unbothered by the fact that his buddy was eating someone next to him, compared to how concerned he was about him sucking blood safely. That was something he’d need to unpack at some point. Not right then. He currently had more pressing matters to attend to. But eventually.
Epic sighed. He finally let go of the unconscious monster underneath him and scooted closer to Cross, pressing himself against his shoulder. “I wouldn’t if I could” he muttered softly. “But I tried everything else. I tried blood banks, animal blood, and iron supplements. I went through it all! Nothing works. Only the fresh blood of either monsters or humans quenches my thirst. I’m- I’m careful with it! As careful as I can be… I’ve never killed anyone. I just knock them out. And I only take what I need. I space out my meals as much as possible, too… which is why it always takes me so long to heal, but I’m willing to make some sacrifices”. He tried to shrug at the end, but ended up wincing as a result. That damn dog monster really had done a number on him…
Most would have been just as put off by Epic’s violence, but Cross was rather desensitized to that kind of thing. He’d been raised with the belief that if he were to throw a punch, he had to be prepared to receive one back. Absolute reciprocity and all that. The only exception to the rule was his father, but that was only because his outbursts were called ‘discipline’.
To chase away those thoughts and offer his roommate some comfort, Cross searched for Epic’s hand in the small space between them and gave it a squeeze. “I don’t care about anyone else, you were hurt” he hissed out. The image of that aggressive fucker rutting against his friend was burned in his mind. He’d been worried, of course. That was all there was to it. It took him a great effort to suppress the reminder of that uneasy feeling he’d gotten well before receiving any confirmation that things had turned south. Even more to keep himself away from the realization that perhaps there had been some longing there when he’d watched Epic enjoying his meal, the satisfied purple flush that had colored his maxilla, the hum of power that had surrounded him the whole time. His feelings seemed unimportant at that moment compared to his need to ensure his roommate’s safety. “I don’t want to see you hurt…”.
“Aw, Bruh, you’re so sweet”. Epic switched the positions of their hands, moving his on top, all to repay Cross’s squeeze from earlier. “But there aren’t really any other ways-”.
“What if you feed from me instead?” Cross suddenly blurted out, interrupting Epic. There had been no thought put behind his offer. It had been as instinctual as it could be. A true spur-of-the-moment thing. But he didn’t regret it. Sure, his cheeks heated up once he realized how brazen he had been, but, manners aside, the more he thought about it, the stronger his conviction became.
Cross’s longing had mixed with his protectiveness. Did that make him selfish? Was he allowed to be?
He was saved from an anxious spiral by Epic gently knocking on his forehead with two knuckles. “I can see the smoke coming out of your ear canals” he joked. Cross rolled his eye lights at it, but he couldn’t keep himself from smiling fondly at the soft teasing. It was comfortable. That bond between them was so different from anything he’d grown up with. It was easier. All the rules he’d had to memorize to survive were pointless there. And he knew that, even if he needed a reminder here and there. “Were you serious about your offer?” Epic asked after a moment, his voice had gone lower, all the humor had drained out of it, and had been replaced by hopefulness and fear (of rejection or of acceptance?).
Unable to speak with the embarrassment his forwardness had caused him, Cross just nodded shyly, fleeing eye contact in favor of looking up at the stars again.
Epic didn’t push him. He let the silence settle between them, shielding both of their fragile souls. Their phalanges were still interlocked, their shoulders were pressed together; from afar, they would have looked like one.
---
They got back to their apartment together that night.
They didn’t talk until they were settled in, with Epic sitting on one of the stools by the kitchen island and Cross standing by their coffee machine, waiting for his fuel to brew.
“You said that your injuries don’t heal properly ‘cause you haven’t been eating enough, right?” Cross brought up conversationally then, once shifting his weight from foot to foot ceased to be entertaining enough to keep his restlessness at bay.
He would have brought it up eventually, regardless. Epic’s clavicle was still broken on the right side, and nothing was covering it up and hiding that reminder of his vulnerability. He’d chucked his ruined hoodie on a pile in the corner of his room soon after they’d gotten home, muttering under his breath that he’d have to buy more cat treats than he’d budgeted for if he wanted Killer (Cross’s least favorite of the colorful array of Epic’s friends he’d been made to interact with) to fix all of that, which had left him in a rather revealing white tank top and nothing else above his belt.
“Mhm” Epic confirmed, feigning nonchalance by busying himself studying the counter he was leaning on as if it were anything new or interesting.
Cross wasn’t buying it. He wasn’t an idiot, despite popular belief to the contrary. He knew that, while Epic had been happy about his offer, he didn’t fully believe that he’d meant it. He would need to prove himself to his roommate through actions if he wanted to change that.
So, after steadying his resolve, he marched over to the other side of the kitchen island and knelt by Epic’s side, coking his skull to the side to bare his neck. His friend turned around quickly. A surprised gasp left his teeth. In his haste, his knees ended up on either side of Cross, turning their position into something rather scandalous. They were alone there, however, so neither of them minded that. They weren’t strangers to intimacy. Cross had been so very touch-starved when he’d first gotten there. He’d never known the warmth of a hug before meeting Epic, nor what holding hands felt like. Needless to say, the crash course in cuddling he’d been given had been rather mind-blowing, welcome, and often sought out and initiated by him after the first lesson.
“Heh, bet your old man would have a soul-attack if he saw us like this” Epic joked. He brought a hand up to Cross’s cheek, trying to awkwardly readjust his position into something more practical. There was some hesitation in his movements. Uncertainty still lingered, even as he tried to dispel it with some banter.
“Please, do not bring up my Father when you’re about to penetrate me” Cross deadpanned, making eye contact with Epic.
His roommate lost it. He was snorting and slapping his knee like a proper old man. Maybe he was. Vampires were supposed to be immortal after all. He was probably ancient. If Epic didn’t choke on his laughter and die with that, Cross would ask him if he’d met any dinosaurs. He couldn’t help the devious chuckle that escaped him at the idea. Besides, his roommate’s laughter was quite contagious already.
Eventually, Epic managed to somewhat regain his bearings. “Bruh, do not phrase it like that!” he half-begged, half-demanded.
“No promises” Cross responded cheekily.
Epic let out the world’s most pitiful whine. “You’re the worst”.
“What does that say about the guy who’s soon gonna suck me off- humph”. A hand was pressed against Cross’s teeth, unfairly silencing him. Nobody appreciated his comedic genius. He was wasted on his contemporaries. And also on his possibly-old-as-fuck vampire roommate, too. He had forgotten to ask about the dinosaurs, dammit.
All of Epic’s skull was an adorable, bright purple by then. The sight was breathtaking. Cross wondered if he was blushing just as hard… did he look that lovely as well? Did happiness suit him anywhere near as much? Or was he better off with his semi-permanent serious scowl? He wasn’t sure he would have been able to wipe the smile off of his face at that moment even if he’d been told that he didn’t deserve it…
After a couple of beats, Epic hid his face in the curve of Cross’s exposed neck. “Are you really sure about this…?” he whispered. His magical eye was shut. He wasn’t compelling him in any way, and yet Cross felt his soul skip a beat regardless.
“G-go for it” he managed to stutter out with great effort.
He shut his eyes, then. He wasn’t scared of the pain, nor did he feel any revulsion at the idea of Epic’s fangs emerging once more. Quite the contrary. He was yearning for it. And he couldn’t. He couldn’t put that kind of pressure on his friend. He couldn’t push for the type of intimacy he desired. Not when there were more important matters at stake. Not when Epic had been hurt the evening before by someone who was after the same thing. So he pushed it all down. He forced himself to postpone yet another realization. He told himself that his feelings really didn’t matter.
And his hard work would have paid off, too, had it not been for the reverent “Thank you” Epic let out. It wasn’t mere politeness before a meal; it was a prayer. An act of worship, of devotion. There was no other way to interpret it.
Cross was left unable to breathe yet again, that time for a whole different reason. His soul froze, and his eyes shot open. He couldn’t quite move his skull, trapped as he was between Epic’s hand and his face, but he nonetheless strained himself as much as he could to try and find confirmation in his friend’s expression that he hadn’t just imagined that. And what he found was bliss.
His squirming had to have been misinterpreted because Epic found Cross’s hand again and squeezed it with his to comfort him. He worried maybe about the pain from his fangs. The bite did sting without the thrall, but Cross had hardly paid that any mind. He was too caught up in everything else. He felt inebriated, and that was only partially due to the blood loss.
He mourned the contact once it was over. Even more after Epic expended some healing magic to close the wound he’d left in Cross’s neck. He didn’t say anything for fear of coming across as too needy and weird, but the apologetic look that settled over his friend’s face once he met his eyes again made him think that he knew anyway.
“Are you okay?” Epic’s voice took on that same impossibly tender tone he’d had earlier when thanking him, and Cross melted into a puddle.
It was getting really hard to keep what few layers of denial he’d managed to preserve, standing.
“Yeah…” he answered breathlessly, before yet again messing everything up by letting his mouth run rampant before his brain had a chance to catch up to it and blurting out: “Please, let me be the only one you feed from”. Cross had claimed many times before to be good under pressure; he’d boasted about how he’d been trained under the harshest of conditions. Clearly, however, he was a big fucking liar.
Epic’s hand tightened around his; his gaze was cast down, his shoulders slumped. “I shouldn’t. You deserve better than-”.
Cross refused to let him finish. Despite the wooziness he felt, he managed to move his skull forward and slam his forehead against Epic’s a bit harder than he’d meant to, interrupting him. Sure, he’d spoken without thinking, but he was one stubborn motherfucker, and he was committed now. Besides… perhaps his slip-ups were more of an excuse for him to speak his mind than actual blunders. “You don’t get to choose for me. If you say no, it better be because you think my blood is shit”.
A couple of seconds went by, and Cross figured that was his answer. He’d take not being good enough like a champ; that was another thing his father had trained him for. He’d never ask again. He’d just slowly rebuild his walls and act like the friend Epic needed him to be.
He’d almost managed to convince himself that he wasn’t disappointed or upset when Epic’s wheezing laughter started tickling his bones. “You’re unbelievable” his friend huffed out, before gently grabbing the sides of Cross’s skull and moving him away just enough so that they could make eye contact. “Thank you, Sinta” the all-encompassing love in his voice chased away all doubts that still lingered in Cross’s mind. It was so out of character for Epic to let himself take the moment seriously, and yet, for him, he didn’t once try to cut away from the mushiness with a zinger. He allowed the moment to linger. He allowed the synchronized beats of their souls to fill the silence. He let Cross soak in the underlying meaning of his words, the concession he was making.
And Cross decided to repay him with just as much openness and acceptance. For once, he allowed himself to feel, to desire, to come to some long-due conclusions about himself and them.
He didn’t have the words to speak any of that aloud, not with his head spinning as it did. So, instead, he nuzzled into the palms of Epic’s hands, hoping it would be enough. At least for the time being. And he let himself enjoy the way Epic tenderly rubbed the underside of his eye sockets with his thumbs; he even conceded to his foolish soul that it was an act of a different type of love. Friendship as well, of course. That was the foundation of their bond, and it would always be the most important aspect of it. But, perhaps, their connection could have multiple facets without taking away from any of them… how wonderful would that be?