How to make the mighty crumble

[set_in_steel]

Who: Fai D. Flowright, Kurogane
When: Thursday evening of Vampire Week
Where: Kurogane's room (9C)
Summary: Kurogane's stubbornly been refusing to drink blood all this time, locking himself in his room. Fai decides enough is enough and goes to pound some sense in him. Again.
Rating: NC-17, to be safe.
Warnings: Language, blood, and who knows what

Comments

[bigkittysmile]

His patience worn thin, Fai kicked the door in. The ninja hadn't answered for days, and Fai, despite telling himself that the other man couldn't die just yet, from just four days with no food, was panicking. His relief at seeing the Japanese man sitting up and alert battled with his desire to smack him silly. Storming across the room, Fai stopped just in front of Kurogane, staring down at him. He held out a hand, a wrist, and waited.

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Kurogane looked up for a moment then slowly closed his eyes again. Carefully, he began breathing through his mouth, focusing on the movement of chest with every inhale. He ignored Fai completely and made ready, because he knew that the man would lash out; quite soon.

[bigkittysmile]

Fai scowled at being ignored, and decided to take action. The previous method had almost worked, and when this hungry, it wouldn't be too hard this time.

With a simplicity that was beyond what the action entailed, Fai plopped himself in the ninja's lap, straddling his hips.

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Kurogane would have gasped if he hadn't clenched his jaw at the first sign of movement, because ah!-tooclose-tooclose-need-want-lunge-ah!-leave-want!-no!-Fai-Fuck!! As it was, he just pressed his hands down on the floor and tried hard not to shudder, not to breathe, not to move.

It was easy, it was nothing, it was like the training he'd gone through, it was sitting still for hours, not sleeping nights, not eating, waiting, counting, thinking, he'd done that, he'd lasted for days, it was nothing, nothing, nothing, yes, but there'd never been food-taste-smell-touch-skin offering itself so gladly, and he'd never wanted so much.

[bigkittysmile]

The damn ninja still wasn't giving in, and Fai vaguely wondered if he had gone without food for a long time as well. Left with no choice, Fai did something he thought might be going a bit far, might be a little bit cruel, might make this into something else that Fai didn't want to confront just yet.

Wrapping his arms around Kurogane's chest, he leant his head on the broad shoulders in front of him. It was a hug, close and personal and desperate.

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There was touch and weight and warmth and Kurogane's fingers curled and pressed and blood fell down from his right hand and dropped dropped on the floor. There was pain in his gut, there was a dull ache right between his eyes, and his skin burned where Fai pressed his neck flush against his, soft and hard and so easy to tear, and Kurogane's fingers pressed in deeper and his knuckles were scraped through blood, his own blood, that was fine.

Fai's arms were warm around him, his hair spread wild and thin against the right side of his face, brushing by, soft, as Kurogane raised his face, turning his mouth away.

His shoulders began twitching, and Kurogane's counting went slowly up to three-hundred-twenty-seven, the numbers coiling in his head.

[bigkittysmile]

Fai sighed, the wait continuing. He smiled, quite against his will, and gave a dry chuckle. "You know, the least you could do is hug me back." The silence was tense, painful. It reminded him of Infinity, and the places between then and Tokyo. The quiet between them all, the pain and the blood and the unshed tears. He really hoped it would be over soon. Those memories were painful.

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Fai spoke and his words thrummed against his neck and shoulder and Kurogane stared blindly before closing his eyes against the almost-pain. His mouth was dry and empty and his arms ached to grasp and hold, hold down, but he focused on breathing, ragged, whispery breaths, and reaching four-hundred-and-three.

But Fai was warm, and Fai's voice bleeding, his arms wrapped tight and tense around him, and Kurogane's left hand breached the wall and settled on his shoulder, not-flesh, not-real, not-him, not-wrong, but clutching, holding, holding on.

[bigkittysmile]

Fai wondered if the man had the patience of a saint. A small part of him felt strangely impressed by the man's ability to hold out for this long. He was also vaguely jealous.

The touch of metal on the blonde man's shoulder made him shiver, the material of his clothing not thick enough to keep the replacement limb's chill from reaching his skin. He tried not to feel guilty, tried not to feel awful for putting Kurogane through what he knew was awful to endure, tried not to remember that the limb holding him would be flesh if it were not for him. He tried not to remember, because the ninja would hit him for it. Again.

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Fai shook and Kurogane shivered with him, chest arching up and left arm slowly reaching out for more. He gasped and his breath skipped to normal, and Fai's scent rushed at him and begged.

Four-hundred-twenty-seven, and his face turned easily into the curve of Fai's white neck; the pulse was beating underneath his lips and he traced it without a thought, mouth watering and wet tongue tasting, and there was nothing else but this, thin fingers running through his hair and hot breath at his nape, and Kurogane letting go.

He bit down slow and sweet and painful, and the fingers of his right hand twisted bloody in Fai's blond hair, arms cluthing desperately and tight. He drank.

[bigkittysmile]

Fai was ready for the pain, was ready for the moment when Kurogane would snap, was ready for perhaps, perhaps a quick feed that ended in him blacking out.

Not this.

It was gentle, calm and kind, something completely beyond what he expected from Kurogane's gruff personality. Something between a sigh and a moan escaped him as a strange sensation he couldn't identify swept through him. Was there something more to this vampirism? The thought was hazy and soon drifted away as his mind focused on feeling.

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The hunger was washing away with every gulp and Kurogane slowly came back to himself again. The blood flowed stark against his tongue, nothing he'd ever wanted and everything he yearned for now, and he tightened his hold on Fai, hands slipping to his jaw and waist, pressing, pulling, needing still more. He leaned forward, stretching his legs, and his breath shuddered at the things he felt, through touch, through taste, through smell, through hearing Fai sighing a moan against him.

[bigkittysmile]

Fai's eyes slid closed as he relaxed into the feeling of blood escaping him. He wondered vaguely if Kurogane felt something similar to this when he was feeding, and if so he probably couldn't blame him for wanting it done more often.

With that rather perverse thought in mind, Fai shifted himself to mold his position more comfortably around the larger man's body, long legs coming round to rest behind Kurogane's back.

[set_in_steel]

It was sweet and thick and sour, the haze, and Kurogane drifted in and out of it, between the aching relief of the drink and the feel of Fai's body over him, glimpses of the man's thigh against his own, lean legs tangled behind his back, and the pull of Fai's breaths against his ear. Every shift and slide of Fai's frame were written in his skin, and Kurogane drank, near-panting, and tempted to forget and take and take and take.

[bigkittysmile]

Surprisingly quickly, Fai began to see black spots. Blinking did nothing, so he immidiately put it down to bloodloss. He frowned a little. His fingers and toes felt strange too, like pins and needles. Distantly, he wondered if he should tell Kurogane to stop, but that thought was quickly shouted down by his pride. He'd finally convinced him, damnit, and the ninja was perfectly capable of stopping himself.

And with that blind faith, Fai closed his eyes and smiled.

[set_in_steel]

Kurogane pulled away a little, resting his forehead against Fai's warm neck, breathing and drinking in the scent. His mind reeled as he felt the body clutched to him - not- not- (why not?) not here and now, and not before, and Kurogane was grateful that Fai was wearing that outfit from Celes, the one he had no clue how to unfasten, because he would have pulled that tunic off to drag his fingers up and down Fai’s skin, warm hand of flesh and cold hard metal, to watch and feel as the man gasped and writhed against his touch; and Kurogane wanted.

He thought about how easily a yukata would be brushed off, one shoulder bared and then the other, sleeves folding at the elbows, the fabric cool and sliding over skin. He thought about how the ends could be parted, revealing knees and thighs and more, and Kurogane was so grateful that they both had clasps, ties and buttons in their way as he pressed up and moaned.