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Summary
“Your blood.” He leans in, and his pupils dilate. “It’s so loud.”
“No.” Ze breathes. “Fuck off. There’s no way. I-I already know what you are, and you’re not—”
He doesn’t get to finish before Regect’s hands grab hold of his shoulders, his claws sharp even through the fabric of his clothes.
“So you know?” Regect asks, “Then you gotta be able to guess how fuckin’ annoying it is to hear you from across the house even if you’re not talking.”
Or, Regect is a vampire, and he’s got a craving for his best friend.