slytherynn | CLOSED: Vampire AU's

Things had quieted down after the Red King fell and while it meant less work in some ways, it still kept him busy enough monitoring the strains and incidents that popped up. Smaller scale for the time being but he knew as well as anyone that wasn't going to last.

He'd gotten the apartment a while back, a place to crash that offered quiet and peace, something that was more scarce than he'd like to admit at Scepter 4 headquarters and Fushimi let himself in, closed and locked the door.

Then it was into the kitchen for an energy drink before he headed over to his couch, dropping onto it with a sigh, fingers loosening his jacket.

Fushimi barely has time to settle on the couch before there's a knock on his door.

Yata had put this off for a while now. Maybe longer than he should have. Definitely longer than was smart. But he sags against the doorframe, forehead thudding softly against the wood as he lets it hold him up for a moment. He could feel the way his hands trembled and he shoved them into the too-large pockets of his hoodie to hide it.

He was running out of options here and as much as he hated to ask anyone for help... Well. Had he mentioned running out of options here? He didn't know what else to do.

The knock is unexpected because he'd basically kept this place private from everyone but Awashima and Munakata who would text him before just showing up. Which left one person and he doesn't even lift his head, eyes closing.

He'll leave when he realizes nobody's going to answer.

That's wishful thinking on his part. There's another knock. And a third.

Before Yata gives a frustrated groan and there's the very distinct sound of a body sliding down the outside of the door to sit in the hallway in front of it, slumped back against the solid wood.

"I know you're in there, Saru. I'm not leaving."

He's not sure he has anywhere else to go at the moment.

He still doesn't move for several moments before he exhales a breath. Something he's sure Misaki can hear and walks over to the door. The bolt slides back but he doesn't actually bother to open the door.

"...Your gang still exists, even without Suoh Mikoto. Why are you here?" From the couch, when or if Yata opens the door.

For a long moment, there's silence from the other side of the door. Then, so quiet that even Fushimi, with his enhanced senses, would need to strain to hear it-

"It's not the same."

The handle turns and the door slides back a little. Enough to reveal Yata still hunched in the hallway, facing away from Saru's apartment. He looks... not great, actually. Even paler than normal and there are dark circles under his eyes. He's always been small and lithe but that's straying quickly into 'gaunt' territory now, even though his bulky hoodie hides the worst of it.

He doesn't make a move to cross the threshold. Or look at Fushimi across the room. In fact, he's staring very determinedly at the floor. A strange contrast from his normal in-your-face and aggressive stance when it came to their relationship.

"...Can I come in?" He waits to be invited, even though he can feel that there's nothing that would keep him out. Saru had never rescinded his invitation? Why?

"Yeah, he died so you don't have anyone else to turn to."

He's still not moving, keeping his eyes closed and face tilted towards the ceiling, legs stretched out in front of him. It's not that he doesn't know Yata's state. He knows, likely better than most.

"...There's nothing in your way." But he's not going to ask him to come in. Not directly.

Fingers curl into fists against the tile and something in him tenses at those words. Not an invitation. Well. Maybe it was, this was Saru, after all. Maybe the fact that he'd never been uninvited was an invitation in itself.

"Maybe this was a mistake..."

No, it was probably most definitely a mistake. His relationship with Saru was... complicated at the best of times. Which was definitely not now. Especially when Saru wasn't even looking at him.

It wasn't that he didn't have anyone else to turn to. He knew, if he showed up at their door, that Izumo or Kamamoto or any of the others would try and fix this. But he didn't want to go there, to them. Not when he felt like this.

"I didn't know what else to do."

"Of course you didn't. You need someone to guide you before you can feel secure in any sort of relationship." It's dry, his eyes flickering open, even if he doesn't turn his head.

"And when your next obsession comes along, you'll make the same mistakes again and then come crawling back when you can't hold onto them either."

It catches him off guard, because he's not even sure what Saru is talking about. He blinks at the figure sprawled on the sofa in confusion.

"...Huh?"

"..Forget it." He sounds more tired than anything else, fingers idly tugging on the collar of his shirt.

"What do you want, Misaki?"

He can't help but watch the movement of those fingers as Saru tugs at his shirt, if for a different reason than Fushimi probably intends. His tongue darts out to wet dry and chapped lips and his stomach gives a cramped lurch before he realizes he is staring and jerks his gaze away.

Shit. What was he thinking? This really was a terrible idea.

"Nevermind." He looks away down the long hall, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. He closes his eyes for a moment before pushing himself to his feet. "It's not important. I shouldn't have bothered you. Sorry, Saru."

He'll think of something else.

"You're starving, right?" His voice is quieter, Fushimi finally sitting up, fingers loosening the collar of his shirt to bare more skin.

"...And you already said you had nowhere else to go."

Yata is very pointedly not looking in Fushimi's direction now, especially at the soft sound of rustling fabric. His resistance to temptation is only so strong and it's already wavering.

It wasn't Saru's problem. And he clearly wasn't thrilled with Yata being here. not that Yata expected him to be, but...

"I'll think of something. It's fine."

"...Look at me and tell you're fine." It's dry, Fushimi unfolding himself from the couch to stand, gaze fixed on Misaki as he crossed the room.

"I let you in already so...do what you want to do."

"I'm fine."

It's said almost defiantly as Yata lifts his gaze long enough to stare at Fushimi as he gets up from the couch. Of course, he's lying through his teeth and it's probably obvious to Saru, who's always been way too good at reading him anyway.

His gaze shutters and he glances away again quickly, however. "I'm not gonna do anything that you're already uncomfortable with. Which I guess is me, anyway. So nevermind. Don't worry about it, Saru. I'll think of something else."

"...If I wasn't comfortable with the idea, I wouldn't have unlocked the door." He points out quietly, his eyes closing for a moment, fingers flexing at his sides. If he's being honest, he's too comfortable with the idea, but he's not going to admit that.

Not yet anyway.

Which is something of a problem, because while Saru might be great at reading Yata, Yata's not sure he can say the same thing in return. Sometimes, if he's lucky, his assumptions or observations will be spot on and yet others... It feels like they're worse than strangers at times, for how much he can pick up from Saru.

At the moment, from the pained expression on Saru's face, the way he twitches and keeps his distance, it looks for all the world like Yata's doing nothing but complicating things worse by being here. Asking this, even if he hadn't actually come out and asked.

"You look about as far from comfortable as you could possibly get, Saru." He gives a quiet sigh, shoving his hands back into the deep pockets of his hoodie once more. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot by showing up here. I wasn't thinking." Something he was frequently guilty of, or so he'd often been scolded for.

"...When do I ever look like I'm actually comfortable?" Fushimi counters, forcing himself to still his hand with a little effort so he's not reaching out to yank Yata closer.

"Are you going to keep wasting my time or are you going to do what we both know you want to."

"You say that like you think I don't remember!" There's a hint of temper in those words, but it's more frustration than anything. He remembers all too well what Saru had looked like when he was content and comfortable. Even if he hadn't seen that expression in a long time now.

He missed it, more than he could say.

"What do you want me to do then, Saru?" There's a challenge in the words as his chin tips up, jaw clenching. "What do you want?"

"You didn't give a damn about me after you joined your gang." Fushimi's voice was quiet, opening his eyes to look down at Yata, his expression twisting. "After you accepted him, everything changed and you didn't even notice until I 'betrayed' you by making the only choice I had left open to me." His fingers flex again before he moves.

"Take what you want from me and leave. Just like you always do." One hand wraps around the redhead's throat pressing him against the wall just inside the doorway.

His own fingers curl around Saru's wrist as he gives a soft snarl because always, always it came back to this. He doesn't push the Blue away, though, not when he holds him pinned to the wall as he does.

Besides, Yata's not sure in this state he even has strength enough to extricate himself. He'd probably just embarrass himself if he tried.

"I did give a damn, I just thought you were right there beside me! Until you weren't!" Because it had been that way for so long that Yata had relaxed into the assurance that Saru was content at his side. He'd picked up that there might be something wrong, but Saru had withdrawn so deep, gave so little away, he hadn't even seen how bad it was until it was too late. Yata, who was so used to always expressing himself so loudly, had still been completely off guard by it.

He didn't excuse his own guilt in their falling out now, not after all these years. He knows he should have paid more attention, picked up on the signs earlier. But he also wanted to bean Saru over the head and yell talk to me, dammit! and it was a sad day when Yata was pushing for talk instead of action, honestly.

"I didn't come here just to use you, fuck you." And this is why he said you weren't comfortable with it, Saru. That wasn't the kind of mindset he wanted to go into this with at all. "I didn't come here to take!"

"You didn't even see me." He shrugged a shoulder, grip loose enough it's easy for Misaki to break if he really wants to. "And you were so caught up in his pull, you didn't care enough to even consider looking past what you wanted to see."

And it wouldn't have done any good to say anything anyway. He'd learned that lesson the hard way and why would Misaki have been any different. His hand drops back to his side, Fushimi taking a step back.

"...Then what did you want?"

He can't really argue the pull part, because he'd never been around a vampire as powerful as Mikoto. Yata had always known the purebloods were more powerful, more potent, than a turned vampire would ever be, but that had never been more evident the day he'd encountered Homra. It had been hard not to get caught up in the pull of that heat, the inevitable draw. He thought he'd found a place to belong there.

That maybe they'd found a place to belong.

He'd been blinded by Mikoto's fire and Saru had every right to be pissed about it. Although he still thought it would have been different if Saru had just spoken to him before it got as far as it did. That he'd trust Yata enough to not be the same. He liked to think it would have made a difference, but maybe he's just lying to himself about it.

Saru releases him and steps away, putting distance between them again. He doesn't know what to say here. He's said everything he could over the years. Multiple times. It never seems to change anything.

So instead, he stares at Saru a moment before lowering his gaze to the floor. And then he slowly tips his head to the side, offering his throat to the other vampire.

Yata had never been very big on vampire etiquette, but even an idiot turned knew what this kind of surrender meant. Maybe Saru didn't trust him and Yata had probably earned that. He didn't know where else to start to fix this.

Bloodlust

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