(046) always late at night.
what vampires? oh these two (1) strangely not-evil morons (2)
jun turns. this is waaaay before the drabbles written already. don't worry it gets mostly silly from here on in.
The pavement is rough and unforgiving under Jun's bloody palms. It's kind of a strange thing to focus on right now, because he's dying. He knows; he can tell. It's thrumming in his blood and in his eyes, in the frantic, panicked beating of his clinging heart. Jun isn't ready. He's only 25 and he's only just gotten started and fuck, in the grand scope of things, this is massively unfair. Of all the ways to die, getting attacked by a gang of vampires wasn't on his list.
He chokes down a laugh that sounds like gravel in his ruined throat. He won't be modeling anymore, not like this. Seriously, if there was something to think about at the grand moment of one's death, this is probably not it--
Jun's body jolts once, twice, and he stares straight up at the city sky until the lights seem dimmer, yellow to purple to indigo.
His heart beats slower. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum... like a broken drum.
Something hazy appears above him, a white, contemplative face looking down like a full moon. Jun blinks at it slowly, help me, and then he doesn't blink or think at all.
*
Everything is red, red, red like the colour of his mother's favourite blouse, red like a sunset-- red like the heat rushing through his veins, burning them off, burning down them.
He thinks back to summers spent crouching and looking for bugs under rocks, bicycling near the canal by his house with the rest of the neighbourhood kids. They skip stones and run around laughing and Jun feels life, like he can live forever if he can only hold on to this small happiness of breathing with a beating heart. He stops for a second to stare into the water. The fish in the water are small and glittering and the more he looks down the more it looks like they have faces with teeth, and he's so afraid, so afraid--
Jun moans and someone cradles him more securely in strong arms, shushing him. "Oh," someone whispers lowly. "Oh, Aiba, you idiot, what will you do now?"
Something touches his lips and it's thick like iron, deep and heady on his tongue and Jun drinks. It fills him up and burns.
*
He awakens to so much pain that everything in his mind is a white rush.
It's like every synapse, every connection is coming back to life and it stings
oh it stings
it makes each limb jump and snap out uncontrollably and Jun screams and screams and screams until white turns to black.
When Jun wakes up again, someone is dabbing at the sweat on his face with a cold towel and there's a sheet covering him. The room is dim and he's naked and the person tending to him is now wringing it out into a small bowl.
He's alive. The bed under him, the voice reaching his ears, the ache in his body; he hadn't thought he'd feel these things again. But this isn't a hospital, and it isn't his apartment.
The inanity of his own thoughts is surprising. The man next to the bed hums cheerfully. "Hi!"
"Who..." Jun coughs, and then stops. When he reaches up to his throat, he feels only smooth skin. "W-what?"
"I was surprised when you made it through the night, you know," the man says conversationally. "Most of them don't, but maybe you're special! You're gonna be so strong, I can tell." His brown hair is in his eyes and there's a dimple in each cheek when he grins down at him.
"I can feel it," he finishes, sharp white teeth flashing in a bashful smile. "And I'm sorry. Welcome to your new life."
jun turns. this is waaaay before the drabbles written already. don't worry it gets mostly silly from here on in.
The pavement is rough and unforgiving under Jun's bloody palms. It's kind of a strange thing to focus on right now, because he's dying. He knows; he can tell. It's thrumming in his blood and in his eyes, in the frantic, panicked beating of his clinging heart. Jun isn't ready. He's only 25 and he's only just gotten started and fuck, in the grand scope of things, this is massively unfair. Of all the ways to die, getting attacked by a gang of vampires wasn't on his list.
He chokes down a laugh that sounds like gravel in his ruined throat. He won't be modeling anymore, not like this. Seriously, if there was something to think about at the grand moment of one's death, this is probably not it--
Jun's body jolts once, twice, and he stares straight up at the city sky until the lights seem dimmer, yellow to purple to indigo.
His heart beats slower. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum... like a broken drum.
Something hazy appears above him, a white, contemplative face looking down like a full moon. Jun blinks at it slowly, help me, and then he doesn't blink or think at all.
*
Everything is red, red, red like the colour of his mother's favourite blouse, red like a sunset-- red like the heat rushing through his veins, burning them off, burning down them.
He thinks back to summers spent crouching and looking for bugs under rocks, bicycling near the canal by his house with the rest of the neighbourhood kids. They skip stones and run around laughing and Jun feels life, like he can live forever if he can only hold on to this small happiness of breathing with a beating heart. He stops for a second to stare into the water. The fish in the water are small and glittering and the more he looks down the more it looks like they have faces with teeth, and he's so afraid, so afraid--
Jun moans and someone cradles him more securely in strong arms, shushing him. "Oh," someone whispers lowly. "Oh, Aiba, you idiot, what will you do now?"
Something touches his lips and it's thick like iron, deep and heady on his tongue and Jun drinks. It fills him up and burns.
*
He awakens to so much pain that everything in his mind is a white rush.
It's like every synapse, every connection is coming back to life and it stings
oh it stings
it makes each limb jump and snap out uncontrollably and Jun screams and screams and screams until white turns to black.
When Jun wakes up again, someone is dabbing at the sweat on his face with a cold towel and there's a sheet covering him. The room is dim and he's naked and the person tending to him is now wringing it out into a small bowl.
He's alive. The bed under him, the voice reaching his ears, the ache in his body; he hadn't thought he'd feel these things again. But this isn't a hospital, and it isn't his apartment.
The inanity of his own thoughts is surprising. The man next to the bed hums cheerfully. "Hi!"
"Who..." Jun coughs, and then stops. When he reaches up to his throat, he feels only smooth skin. "W-what?"
"I was surprised when you made it through the night, you know," the man says conversationally. "Most of them don't, but maybe you're special! You're gonna be so strong, I can tell." His brown hair is in his eyes and there's a dimple in each cheek when he grins down at him.
"I can feel it," he finishes, sharp white teeth flashing in a bashful smile. "And I'm sorry. Welcome to your new life."