blood rush

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heat

it’s yukito’s own fault, really, for getting into this mess. centuries of time on earth has left him with infinite time to explore all of mankind’s knowledge. he has seen mankind constantly define and redefine the world, he’s seen wars (some that he helped create to begin with), revolution, culture destroyed and rebuilt.

despite the fact that in each life he is made to be ruthless, a killer at the disposal jasper (mafia leader, merciless, cold, cruel, lover), he feels the need to learn again, step back from the cruelty of a vampire existence to be just a student. it’s easy to forge an identity anew, pull strings to get into any university he wishes. (the hard part, really, is getting jasper to agree to let him go for a few months. he has to swear not to get involved with another filthy human being, but it is a silly promise, because he only has eyes for jasper. but it’s still a promise, one made and sealed between the sheets)

he has to be careful not to reveal his true identity, but it’s easy for yukito to blend in like a wallflower (except jasper would bury him in a combination of white and red roses on special days – white for the untainted innocence jasper still sees inside his corrupted being, red for the blood of vampires and the way yukito’s pale, flushed skin looked best against this sinful shade). his thirst for blood is dulled down by a steady regimen of pills, he only has to eat a lot more human food, that’s all, but its taste often disgusts him. it’s not that same as blood.

this torture is worth it for the sake of knowledge, yukito tells himself, but he starts to doubt that when nights are lonely. he misses the uncanny warmth that comes with sleeping with jasper – it is a comfort that he has become used to, craves and pines for. the marks (that yukito once found mortifying on his body, now he loves them, loves the way they remind him of how loved he is, but also how completely owned he is – mind, body, soul) fade from his skin after time and he feels lost, almost naked without them.

but that is not the problem

the only blood yukito has ever craved in his life has been jasper’s – human blood is fine, but it would be like comparing wine to water, why settle when he already had the best?

but

--he can almost taste how good it might be. it makes his mouth almost water, because the scent of it is enough to give away what it might be like (hot, warm, salty with a hint of spice but left a sweet aftertaste, rich – the thought of getting even just a bite made him want to lose it) and yukito shoves down more of those pills down his throat so he won’t be tempted to take a nibble.

it’s all his roommate’s fault. luke armeli – (fuck, even his name whispered sin like his blood), and it doesn’t help that luke is beautiful and almost overly friendly with yukito that he doesn’t know what to do – it paralyzes him because in all these years, despite all the promises he has made to jasper, he has never felt that he would ever be on the verge of breaking them. yukito knows luke would taste

like heaven the irony is not lost on him, but a godforsaken creature can only imagine what God’s greatest creation would taste like, how delicious it might be

--yuki is what luke calls him. you don’t mind if i call you yuki, right? it sounds so much cuter than yukito, and matches your face better, anyway.

the question is irrelevant, because yukito refuses to let anyone call him yuki. it is almost sacred (the irony, is not lost on him here, either), for it is a name moaned in desire, a name whispered with affection by the one he adores most and he can’t let it be tainted.

yuki sticks though, and yukito finds himself losing the willpower to correct him each day.

it’s just the blood

--he convinces himself at first. he just has to get through the semester, and during the break and he can back to falling into jasper’s familiar comfort blood, and this silent torture would end. but this

desire, untreated obsession

starts to eat away at him; he falls asleep in a room wrapped in this scent, and just across, only a few feet away, he could satiate his craving, and, perhaps, no one would even know –

--sleep with me, luke mumbles against his neck, when yukito knows that he is drunk on tequila, should be protesting, but he finds himself immobile to the touches across his clothed skin –

it’s just the blood that is messing with his thoughts, the fact that luke is so close it would be so easy and he’s been driving himself insane over this for weeks and he can’t help himself so when he

--bites

it meets every expectation he ever had. in that moment, as he fills himself with the taste of luke armeli, who tastes just as good as he thought he would be. how can he stop himself, stop himself from getting too greedy and drinking too much, when he has been holding back for so long? it’s only after he remembers that what he is doing is w r o n g that he stops, pulling away from that (delicious) neck and

he’s terrified of what he has done

he tries to deny it. how good luke’s warm blood had tasted (that he doesn’t want it again, that he didn’t want to let luke keep touching him his skin still felt hot, that he wanted to kiss luke, for he looked so peaceful when he slept, rosy cheeks and all) because that couldn’t be true but –

--you know that i only love you was a statement, a promise that yukito meant (had meant)

he prays that luke won’t remember any of this. the next morning, luke wakes up and demands that yuki cure his hangover, and so he stays even though it hurts and by the afternoon, yukito knows that luke has remembered by the way he looks at the bite marks on his neck, and those dark green, suspicious lusting eyes trap him in the corner of the room and the feeling is almost all too familiar, of

being prey

--i know what you are, luke murmurs quietly as he rubs the two punctures on his neck that somehow makes him look more attractive, if possible, and he takes a step forward in yukito’s direction. it takes so much willpower not to shift back into the corner of his bed, and instead he looks straight into luke’s eyes (a foolish mistake, it sends shivers down his spine)

--do you? then, tell me, what am i?

--not human. luke pauses to take another step forward (close, too close). vampire, aren’t you?

yukito says nothing for a moment, he should be denying it, calling luke crazy but (he almost wants him to know) –

--that’s absurd. clearly, you’re still not sober from last night.

luke didn’t reply, and instead took slow, deliberate steps until he sat on yukito’s bed, right across from him, and shit yukito thought it would be enough to taste just once, but now that luke’s so close again he can’t help but

want

--oh? luke holds out his wrist and

no

--then why does it look like i have something that you so desperately want, yuki? come on, take a bite. you know you want it.

he can’t deny that he does want it, wants it so bad, and here luke is, offering himself up like this, but he can’t shouldn’t wouldn’t couldn’t he twists his body to curl up and looks away, closing his eyes, as if somehow doing so would allow him to pretend, but luke sits there, unmoving, and that intoxicating scent stirs cravings inside him that go straight down to that primal vampire inside him that wants

with a trembling hand, yukito reaches out for luke’s wrist, but doesn’t look up at him, refuses to

he brings that wrist close to his mouth and he can almost taste that tantalizing blood coursing through those veins and he

hesitates

--and then

bites.

the second luke’s blood fills his mouth, yukito can’t help but m o a n and drink even more greedily, because it’s good, far too good, and when luke’s other hand reaches out to touch yukito’s hair

yukito can almost imagine that it’s jasper and

a tug of his hair pulls him away from luke’s wrist and (he whines almost pitifully) luke takes yukito’s chin smearing his own blood on that pale, pristine skin so that he is now forced to look at him and

--not a vampire, you say? little liar.

--…please (he whispers, but he doesn’t know what he’s begging for, because there is so much he wants from luke)

instead of responding, luke leans over and presses his (soft, yet slightly chapped) lips against yukito’s, and he (hates to admit that this was what he wanted all along)

and he knows

that without even saying a word, luke already owns him


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