slytherynn | CLOSED: Vampire AU's

"...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.

Mikoto's fire had drawn them both in but while it had taken to Yata, Fushimi had never quite found the flames as comforting as his former partner had. They'd been a barrier, a power he'd found useful to a degree, but he'd never been someone who lost himself in that sort of blaze. He worked better with logic over emotion.

So he'd withdrawn, he'd done what he'd seen as necessary to protect himself and provide a place where he felt useful in a way he never had under Suoh Mikoto. And he'd had opportunities there to explore things about himself.

But he was still bound to Misaki, even if he'd tried to pull away, seeking him out and baiting him into fights, just for his attention. But right now?

He can't move, gaze focused on Misaki's neck, his mouth going dry. It was an offering and one that had him locked into place because he'd honestly never expected this.

"..Misaki..."

Yata doesn't move. He waits, throat bared, his gaze on the floor. Gives Saru time to make a decision. Decide what he wants.

"I didn't come to take," he says again, needing Saru to believe him. That's never what he wanted to do. Never who he wanted to be.

He breathes, a slow shaky breath before he moves, retreats to the couch to sit down, gives himself a moment to think. He needs to breathe, to regain his own control before he crosses a line he can't take back.

"Come here." When he finally speaks, lifting a hand to remove his glasses, setting them on the table next to him.

"...You first."

He tries to hide his unease the longer Saru drags that silence out between them. And then the Blue is moving away, sinking back down on the couch and Yata's heart drops somewhere to the bottom of his stomach.

But then Saru bids him to approach and he's moving before he even realizes it. Before the second part of that order sinks in and he stops again in surprise, his head coming up. Wide eyes fasten onto Saru's face in confusion, because those are the last words he expected to come out of Saru's mouth.

"....What?!"

"Either you go first or this isn't happening." Fushimi's voice is neutral, but he's not going to argue when it comes to this. Because of the nature of their ..situations, this is the more logical and safer route.

And if he does end up drained, he'll recover, which is more than can be said for someone like Yata.

"So you go first or you leave. Those are your choices."

"But... you're a pureblood!"

Not like that matters half the time to Yata himself but even he knows there's a pecking order here. And as a turned vampire, he is waaaaay down the totem pole, no matter how powerful he is.

The fact that a pureblood would not only offer his blood but his throat, which was one of the most intimate places to feed from as well as a symbol of surrender... yeah, Yata's pretty sure Saru just broke a dozen pureblood protocol laws somewhere. The pureblood police were gonna show up any minute now to drag Yata off to jail or some shit just for being here to witness it.

"And? I didn't ask you to remind me of my status, Misaki. I gave you your options." He lifted his fingers, loosening another button to expose more of his skin to the other's view.

"Since when do you care about the rules anyway?"

He can’t quite stop himself from staring at the pale expanse of Saru’s throat as he bears more flesh. Now he’s just taunting him. Yata swallows convulsively, struggling to hide just how tempted - and hungry - he is right now.

“I don’t. But everyone else does.” Which also doesn’t matter to him, but sometimes it matters to Saru. He’s pretty sure it would definitely matter to the Blues in general, they were always a stickler for their rules.

"It's none of their business." There's a reason he found his own place away from headquarters after all and while he doesn't use it often, he still keeps it secure enough to allow the privacy he needs.

His fingers curl in the fabric for a moment before he lets his hand drop.

"You can do whatever you want though." Meaning if he does decide to leave, Fushimi won't stop him.

Yata stares at him, hesitating. He’s pretty sure this is also a terrible idea, but the fact that Saru had turned his offer around on him…

He takes a step closer, and then another, until he stands just before where Saru is sprawled on the couch, their knees almost touching.

He stares down at him, licking dry and chapped lips again as he searches his expression.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

"...Do you really think I'd do this if I didn't?" He spreads his legs just a little makes rooms for Misaki between then, his own hands tucked just out of sight to keep them still. Because this..something he's never done before.

"...Make your choice."

This isn’t exactly something he’s done before either. Oh, he’s been fed on before and has fed from others, but exchanging it like this? That usually implies something pretty damn intimate. Any other time he’s been fed from, it was just a meal. Nothing personal about it.

This was Saru, however. Everything was personal with Saru. And he could already tell the Blue was hiding his own nerves as he waited for Yata to make his choice, even as Yata had been when he’d waited with a bared throat.

Swallowing, he studies the other vampire for a moment before nudging Saru’s legs closed with his knee. And then climbs up on the couch to straddle his legs as he perches in his lap instead. There’s a faint tinge of red on his cheeks at the close contact, but if they’re gonna do this…

He reaches out, calloused fingertips brushing aside the loose fabric of his unbuttoned shirt and tracing along the line of Saru’s collarbone up towards his throat.

“I choose you.”

When Misaki settles in his lap, Fushimi forgets how to breathe, and the situation doesn't improve when Misaki's fingers trace over his skin.

And then he makes a helpless little pleading sound in his throat, his hands moving although they stop just short of contact.

"Misaki." It's a quiet exhale, Fushimi's gaze holding his as he wets his own lips.

Yata just gives him a crooked little smile, ducking his head, cheeks still reddening. He doesn’t pull away, even though he’s nervous about this too. Worried he’ll do something to make Saru mad or change his mind. He seems particularly talented at that, after all, even when he doesn’t mean to be.

But he reaches out and catches Saru’s hands where they’ve stopped between them. Curls fingers around thin wrists and tugs them the rest of the way forward until Saru’s hands rest on his own slim hips beneath the long shorts he often wears. He shifts closer, settling comfortably there against him, holding Saru’s gaze.

“Saruhiko.”

His voice is soft. Hushed, almost. It’s been a long time since he’s called him that.

He definitely should have changed out of his uniform when he'd come home.. They weren't as uncomfortable as they probably would be...

Having Misaki in his lap had only happened in his dreams. .

"Playing with your food?"

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