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“Ah, you’re finally awake!”
Already, there’s something wrong with that sentence.
Hayato blinks tiredly, trying to piece together everything that is happening as fast as he can. His fingers are clenched around something soft and warm. There’s something, or rather someone, shuffling around next to him, and when he finally manages to peel his eyes open, he sees a tuft of blond hair appear in his line of sight, followed by a wide, concerned gaze.
Awake? Hayato doesn’t sleep. He was more likely unconscious, which means—
“Suo-san, don’t move too much yet. I’ll fetch you some water, hold on.” Nirei rushes away, leaving Hayato alone.
He pushes himself up with his arms, looking around. Though he doesn’t recognise this room, he can make an easy guess—between the colourful jackets hung up at the side, the many notebooks and magazines lining the desk, and the general explosion of colour, he can deduce that he is in Nirei’s bedroom.
A wave of dizziness washes over Hayato, and he presses his palm to his forehead, muttering a curse under his breath. It’s a moment of weakness that will not be seen by anyone except him, but just being in Nirei’s bedroom while he’s so feeble is enough to make shame rise up his throat.
How long has it been since he’s fed..?
“I’m back,” Nirei announces, pushing the door open. As promised, he presents Hayato with a glass of water, and he takes it gingerly, trying not to show how queasy he’s feeling.
Unfortunately, Nirei has never once known the meaning of personal space, so he sits down on the edge of his bed, leaning closer. Hayato tenses, trying to avoid his scrutiny, but if Nirei had dragged him all the way here, then he assumes he was out for quite a long time and has already been subjected to his observation.
“You walked me home today, as usual, but before you left, you passed out right outside my door,” Nirei says, glancing away casually. His voice is kept even. Like they’re talking about the weather or something equally mundane. “I thought you were just tired from patrols, and because you didn’t eat for the whole day.”
At the mention of food, Hayato’s grip on the glass grows tighter.
“But then I brought you in, and when I laid you on my bed, I started panicking.” Nirei’s eyes turn back on him. Hayato is beginning to feel very trapped. “You weren’t breathing, Suo-san.”
Fuck.
“I tried to feel for a heartbeat, or any kind of indication that you were alive. But when I touched you, your skin was so cold. It was like ice.”
Hayato smiles, or at least tries to, but he can feel how tightly it’s pulled at the edges. Alarm bells are blaring in his head, and all his muscles are screaming for him to move. However, the door is too far away to get to without Nirei blocking his path, plus even the slightest movement is making his head spin. If he tried to escape now, he doesn’t think he can reasonably get very far.
“And what about it?” he asks coolly, still trying to feign ignorance. Because Nirei can’t find out. He isn’t supposed to know—no one is. “I’m clearly alive now, so perhaps you were just mistaken, Nire-kun.”
Nirei doesn’t seem to believe him. His eyes are narrowed in suspicion, and Hayato can already see the life he’s built up here crumbling before his eyes. He’s going to have to enact a backup plan—maybe he should withdraw from school and run to a city two hours away in order to save himself. Or something.
“You always say you’re on a diet,” Nirei starts, holding out his fingers. “When we go to the beach, you spend all your time under the shade, and you only ever wear long sleeves. You don’t breathe, nor do you have a heartbeat.”
Nirei leans in again, and this time, he’s so close that Hayato can smell it. His blood, nestled underneath his skin and coursing through his veins. Fuck. He digs his teeth into his inner cheeks, trying not to let it get to him, but—
He’s starving. And Nirei smells so good.
“You’re a vampire,” Nirei whispers, his breath ghosting past Hayato’s lips. “Right?”
Hayato wishes he can stop it, but his ears are ringing so violently that he might pass out again. He shoves Nirei’s face away, physically forcing some distance between them, and while he doesn’t need to breathe, he feels like he’s gulping in large amounts of air, trying to rid the smell of Nirei’s blood from his senses.
For a moment, Hayato wants to laugh. How is it that Nirei’s logical conclusion is to call Hayato a supernatural being? Even if he isn’t wrong, vampires are just a myth to a regular person. There’s no way Nirei really believes what he’s saying—
“Suo-san,” Nirei calls, reaching for his wrist. The moment fingers clasp around his flesh, Hayato flinches back, and in an attempt to tear his limb away, manages to spill the glass of water over himself.
Hurriedly, Nirei snatches the cup away from him and sets it aside. He comes closer once more, fretting under his breath as he gathers some tissue to dry Hayato’s clothes. Again, he’s way too close, and Hayato twitches, pressing his hand over his lips.
What is he even thinking right now? He can’t bite Nirei. Hayato just needs to get out of here—find a squirrel, or a bird, or some other innocent creature, and drain it dry. It won’t satiate him as much as human blood would, but that doesn’t matter. Hayato had sworn to himself long ago that he wouldn’t hurt another human being, a lesson that was ingrained into him by his master.
It really has been way too long since he’s fed if he’s this tempted by Nirei’s mere presence. It’s not that he’s never thought about it—when Nirei is injured during fights or training, Hayato has gotten a whiff of his blood before. His smell has always stood out to Hayato, like sunshine seeping into a dark classroom, warm and comforting.
Even then, Hayato’s self-control is usually impeccable. But without enough sustenance, all he has is a hazy fog in his head, clouding his judgement.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Nirei promises.
This time, Hayato really laughs out loud. Is that really the most pressing issue right now? He doesn’t care if the whole of Makochi learns of his true identity if it means he can steal just one taste—
Ah, here he goes again. Hayato bows over, shutting his eyes, as if not seeing Nirei would make the urge easier to resist.
He gasps when he feels Nirei’s hands cupping his cheeks, forcing him to look up. When his eyes flutter open again, Nirei has a determined expression on his face, his lips set into a firm line. Steadily, he asks, “What is it that you need, Suo-san?”
Hayato grimaces. Need is certainly a strong word… It’s more of a selfish desire than an actual necessity, he thinks.
“I guess it’s a bit stereotypical,” Nirei continues, huffing around a laugh. “You just need blood, right?”
Briefly, Hayato realises that he hasn’t said a word since this whole discovery started. Nirei has been piecing things together solely on his own, based only on Hayato’s various reactions. A prickle of discomfort hits Hayato when he realises just how well Nirei is able to read him in his weakest moments.
“It’s okay. I’ll figure it out,” Hayato finally replies, pulling Nirei’s hands away from his face. He misses how soothing his touch was immediately—an odd thought. Vampires don’t care for things like a human body’s warmth. “Don’t worry about me.”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous.” Nirei tilts his head to the side, gesturing to his neck. “Just drink mine.”
Huh?
“I’m right here, and you can barely move. It makes sense.” Nirei shifts closer, until his back is brushing against Hayato’s thighs. Against his will, his eyes drop to Nirei’s exposed skin, staring at the subtle, protruding vein running up the side of his neck.
“I…” Hayato musters up all the strength in his body to shake his head. “I can’t do that.”
Nirei frowns. Instantly, Hayato has to dig his fingers into the mattress to prevent himself from pouncing and ripping the fabric off himself.
Fuck. He’s shaking, isn’t he? Disgust swirls in his head as he can’t believe the greed he harbours, to actually want to sink his fangs into his friend’s neck. Nirei is a generous person, but he has to be absolutely stupid to offer himself up to a creature that can— that might actually kill him.
“Who’s to say that I’ll stop?” Hayato asks. It’s meant to sound like a threat, just to get Nirei to back off, but his voice is too small. He just sounds scared. “What if I suck you dry?”
“You won’t,” Nirei replies confidently. It’s baseless. Idiotic. Hayato wants to scream. “You wouldn’t hurt me, Suo-san.”
His stomach churns. Nirei regards him much too highly. It makes him anguished just thinking about it.
The straw that breaks the camel’s back is Nirei reaching for his shirt, tugging his collar to the side. Hayato’s vision flashes white, and in the next second, he finds himself caging Nirei to the bed, hovering over him with the mindlessness of a raging beast.
Shame continues to curl in his gut, but Hayato is terribly distracted by how Nirei looks under him. He’s completely pliant, looking at Hayato out of the corner of his eye, not a hint of fear in those kind irises. Even when Hayato is so undignified, he believes in him so ardently.
“I’ve never—” Hayato begins, struggling to find his words, his brain a jumbled mess. “I’ve never bitten a person before.”
Nirei’s lips lift into a smile. “And I’ve never been bitten before.”
He’s stupid. He’s actually stupid. Hayato buries his face into Nirei’s shoulder, a shock of laughter leaving his throat, and finally gives in to temptation.
At the first pierce of his fangs into Nirei’s neck, Nirei jerks in surprise, letting out a cut-off gasp. One of his hands flies up to Hayato’s head, scrambling to grab for purchase, and ends up gripping onto his hair. His legs wrap around Hayato’s waist too, pulling him closer, and a violent shudder runs through his body when Hayato begins to suck.
The moment Hayato gets a first taste of Nirei’s blood, his body goes into an euphoric high.
It’s delicious. He suspected it would be, that Nirei would be equally sweet on the inside as he is on the outside. A heady sensation floods his brain as he continues to consume, and it’s like everything else in the world disappears. The roaring beast in his stomach that’s been rearing its ugly head finally gets to feast, and Hayato falls prey entirely to its hunger. He can’t see or hear anything, only focused on Nirei’s little twitches and the addictive taste of his blood on Hayato’s tongue.
Nirei starts panting at one point, his voice growing hoarse as he mumbles a bunch of gibberish that Hayato doesn’t make out. He searches for Nirei’s free hand, and their palms slide together against the mattress. Nirei grabs onto it like it's his lifeline, and it’s too intimate, but Hayato can’t resist.
“Suo-san…” he whines, kicking at Hayato lightly. “S-Slow down for a second.”
Hayato hears him, but the words don’t process in his head. He only jolts back up when Nirei’s head suddenly goes limp, and a surge of panic rushes through him, causing him to stop.
Luckily, Nirei is still breathing—rather heavily, at that. There’s a hot blush painted over his cheeks, one he tries to hide with a hand, but to no avail. The wound on his neck is fresh and drenched with thick blood, trailing down his collarbone and towards the dip in his throat.
Hayato leans down again, licking up the excess greedily. This time, Nirei arches up into his touch with a quiet moan, and Hayato has to force him back down with his body weight so he can clean the wound properly.
In the back of his mind, he wonders if Nirei is sensitive anywhere else.
When Hayato has had his fill, he draws back, sitting on his ankles. Nirei’s legs fall onto his sides, and his throat bobs as he asks, “Did it taste good?”
What a bold question. Hayato doesn’t think he’s ever heard that one in his life. At the same time, a different kind of temptation simmers in his gut, one that has to do with the way Nirei is peering up at him, a tired but genuine smile on his face.
“Yes,” he whispers, like it was a sin he was confessing, but honest nonetheless.
“I’m glad,” Nirei laughs, reaching for him again. He pulls Hayato into a hug, nuzzling their cheeks together. Hayato no longer has a human heart, but he thinks that if he did, it would have skipped a beat. “How often do you need to eat?”
“Every new moon.”
“Okay. Come over when you need to, and you can drink from me again.”
Hayato tenses. Again? Once is already bad enough, but now Nirei wants to become his regular meal? Does he have a death wish?
“There is no way you’ll replenish blood fast enough for that,” Hayato scolds. As much as he appreciates it, he appreciates having an alive and healthy Nirei more. He really doesn’t think about his well-being enough.
“A month is more than enough!” Nirei argues. “Plus, I don’t want to see you collapse from hunger again!”
“That was a one time thing. I got careless this month. I usually drink from other animals or blood packets.”
Oh. He didn’t mean to reveal so much information about himself. Somehow, Nirei is really good at pulling the truth from him.
“Well, fine, but…” Nirei glances to the side, blushing intensely, and Hayato stares, awestruck. “You can still drink from me. You don’t have to, but I kind of… liked it?”
Hayato curses in his head. Nirei makes it so hard to maintain his decorum.
He leans down again, tilting Nirei’s chin up with his fingers. “Is that so?” he murmurs, their faces mere inches apart. Nirei’s lips part with a gasp. “Would you like this, too?”
To answer his question, Nirei wraps his hands around his neck immediately and tugs him down into a greedy, bloody kiss.
(“Can I see them again?!”
“My…” Hayato’s lips curve in amusement when Nirei looks up at him with pleading brown eyes. “The fangs?”
“Yes!”
“My, my, Nire-kun.” Hayato nips at a curious finger, and Nirei yelps, drawing back in surprise. Jokingly, he says, “Take me out on a date first.”
Nirei’s cheeks bloom cherry red, but determination fills his eyes as he nods in agreement, and a fluttery sensation floods Hayato’s chest.
How remarkable, the various ways Nirei is able to make him feel.)