Fanfiction
Title: Vampires Aren't Cold-Blooded
Fandom: Magic Kaito
Rating: PG-13
Notes: A vampire plunnie jumped out and bit me. But it's not ~exactly~ your usual fare.
Branches rustled as a small frame moved against them, their own movements silent as a whisper on the wind, betrayed only by the steady reflection of light in blue eyes.
Those eyes watched a pair of open doors out to a balcony where curtains were gently billowing out in the night breeze. Their muscles tensed with anticipation as a blond-haired figure became silhouetted against the warm lamplight glow of the room, their arms bending as the leant on the rail to stare out across the garden. The graceful arch of their spine, a subtle tease of the muscles hidden underneath clothing. The steady throb of their heart, the pulse of blood in veins and arteries, the hint of their scent on the breeze making the person who had once been human bare their teeth in anticipation.
Rationality had slowly slipped, draining down into the growing hunger pooling in their thoughts. They had had reasons, good ones, for choosing this prey -not the other, too close, too good, I can’t- but they were half-forgotten now, caught up in watching the subtle shift of muscles, the constant movement of sharp gold eyes.
Watching arms stretching up with a slow, lazy yawn, a small sliver of stomach exposed by a loose pyjama top, head tilted half-back, exposing a column of white flesh, pulse flickering beneath skin thud-thud-thud-
Temptation.
They moved in a blur of movement, out of the cool, hiding foliage, and up to that light and that oh-so-tempting source of warmth.
Mine.
~
The night was pleasantly warm, stone cool under his bare feet as he padded out onto the balcony and leant on the wide rail. He breathed in, filling his lungs with air that smelt faintly of pollen and cut grass, and listened to the cicadas ‘chrp’ in the night.
It was a pleasant end to a mildly exhaustive day. He’d tracked a robber down, picking him out correctly from a handful of suspects in a convenience store, and had arrived only half an hour late for school. He was lucky to have a forgiving teacher for first period - he supposed it didn’t hurt that his grades were among the highest in that class, either.
One last, contented look around, and Saguru stood up to go back inside, a yawn turning into a lazy stretch-
-stumbled back as movement flickered over half-lidded eyes, the suggestion of a shape, moving-
-perched on the balcony, dark curve of something -wings- sketched behind them, blue eyes locked on him-
-turned to run, but a weight bore down on him back, pushing him into the floor with a quiet, lethal hiss-
-they were lighter and his weight gave him the advantage-
-should have given the advantage, because as he flipped them over them were both rolling again and he was sprawled on the carpet, slim, surprisingly strong limbs twining around his and pinning him still.
“Who-“
Saguru’s question was cut off, a pained cry escaping his mouth as sudden pain blossomed in his shoulder, close enough to his neck to make every instinct scream this was a murder attempt. He bucked, twisting under his attacker as he tried to throw them off.
A low, feral hiss greeted his attempts, nails digging warningly into his wrists as the pain in his shoulder lessened. The shadows he could see showed him the silhouette of a head being raised against the lamplight of his room, familiar messy hair making his thoughts stutter into incoherency.
“Shhhhh.”
The voice was guttural and barely human, strange overtones giving it a harsher quality. Saguru swallowed past his shock to ask a question - the most obvious in these circumstances.
“Why are you doing this?”
Their hold on him slackened, just slightly, but Saguru was ready, leg bending and lashing out, shoving more than kicking them away from him, giving him room to scramble back, hand clasped tight over the bleeding wound in his shoulder. He found a wall with his back and stood clumsily, fingers pressing into it as his knees shook under him.
His attacker was crouched, hair falling over their eyes, one hand at their side where he’d kicked them - Saguru felt a flash of guilt, but pushed it away. A low, keening noise escaped their throat and they stood, movements graceful even as they staggered sideways. Saguru winced, standing straighter, opening his mouth to speak. Despite the attack, they were his friend. He’d done nothing to warrant this, and maybe they, too, were innocent…
“Are you-“
Saguru was cut off again, this time by a hand clumsily over his mouth, nails scraping his cheek, and if Saguru had been less shocked by the lightning fast move across the room, he would have noticed the pleading in blue eyes that reflected light like a cat’s.
His attacker’s head lowered to his shoulder and Saguru thrashed, fighting against a grip like steel, his free hand clutching at their shoulder as he tried to pull them away--
stop, stop, stop, stop
--shaking as he felt the tearing pain in his shoulder again, letting out a gasping cry of pain. There was a sudden extra burn, and Saguru whimpered as it travelled along his arm like fire, deadening his struggles, his fingers falling limp, the burn taking over his muscles in an inexorable wave of pain.
Drugs, his mind was telling him, and Saguru finally paid attention, trying to listen to what his intuition was telling him instead of feeling the horrible aching pain in his shoulder. He choked on air, trying to breathe properly as his fingers twitched in response to the signals his brain was sending, trying to lever himself away from the wall, push his attacker away, make the horrible ache in his shoulder stop-
“-Stop,” he managed to say, voice slurred from the drug - or poison, as his detective mind reminded him. Unbidden tears welled in his eyes at the persistent, driving pain and his inability to do anything about it. “Stop,” he gasped again, desperately wanting to escape, but unable to do anything but twitch helplessly, like a butterfly pinned to a cork, his attacker making soft crooning noises as they buried their teeth in his shoulder yet again.
He was feeling the start of dizziness that signified too much blood loss when the ache in his shoulder lessened, the attacker lifting their head from his shoulder with a contented rumbling noise. He cried out as something wet was dragged across the wound in his shoulder, a choked groan of pain as the rasping feeling continued. He tried to clutch at something, anything, intensely disappointed when his body remained unresponsive.
His attacker purred contentedly, a flash of pink tongue showing over gleaming white fangs as they licked their teeth clean. Saguru swallowed uncomfortably as they curled up next to him, inches away from his sprawled legs.
Don’t leave me like this! He wanted to say, but couldn’t do so much as whine, staring helplessly at the wall, completely paralyzed.
~
He knew where Aoko was - off ill with the flu - but where was Hakuba? Kaito frowned, slouching back in his seat as he raised his newspaper to hide his face. It wasn’t like the stuffy British detective to miss a day of school… Unless he’s ill as well! thought Kaito with some glee. And the next Kid heist was tomorrow evening. Kaito’s grin sharpened. What a pity that you’ll be missing it, tantei-san~
Mystery solved, Kaito refocused his attention on the paper, reading through the news until the teacher came in the room and he had to focus on what she was saying. When the teacher called Hakuba’s name for role-call, with no answer, and she asked if anyone knew why he was off, Kaito raised his hand to tender the opinion he’d caught Aoko’s flu, mentally frowning. Why hadn’t Hakuba called in sick? Feh, Mr-Why-Did-You-Do-This probably doesn’t think he needs to.
~
Hakuba didn’t know what to do.
He’d woken up on the floor, back against the wall, and aching all over, having fallen asleep at some point during the night. He had to force himself to move, every muscle in his body protesting as he’d staggered into the bathroom, leaning heavily on the sink until he caught his breath.
He’d stared at the stranger in the mirror, dark circles under his eyes, skin pale, tawny eyes wide and shocked… and dried blood smeared up the side of his neck. It spread from around the aching wound on his shoulder and trailed over his collarbone in messy smears. He’d swallowed, feeling nauseous, and moved to turn the shower on, wanting to be clean.
He wasn’t thinking about why the wound was raw and fresh, but not bleeding. He wasn’t thinking about the small figure he’d woken next to. He wasn’t thinking about the blood that was still staining their lips.
He hadn’t thought about it then, nor through the shower, nor through bandaging his shoulder - clumsily, with shaking fingers that had nothing to do with tiredness and everything to do with the ache in every fibre of his body. He hadn’t thought about it as he got dressed, unable to face a tie or a shirt, just white bandages running across his shoulder and his dressing gown over the top for warmth. All through picking the sleeping figure up - limp in his arms, and breathing softly - he hadn’t thought about it, firmly pushing all thoughts away as he cleaned their mouth with a damp cloth, tucking them into his bed.
But now, sitting down in a chair and waiting for them to wake up, hands steepled in front of him, he couldn’t avoid it any longer. He had to at least try to make sense of his chaotic thoughts.
They’d attacked him. Drunk his blood. He knew them. They’d sounded almost like an animal. He knew they weren’t strong enough to hold him down. Yet they had. And he thought he’d seen the shadows moving, thought he’d seen wings…
Hakuba’s expression was pensive as he watched the rise and fall of their chest, sleeping like the innocent they (probably) still were.
What happened to you, Aoko?
Comments are, as always, love~ ♥
Fandom: Magic Kaito
Rating: PG-13
Notes: A vampire plunnie jumped out and bit me. But it's not ~exactly~ your usual fare.
Branches rustled as a small frame moved against them, their own movements silent as a whisper on the wind, betrayed only by the steady reflection of light in blue eyes.
Those eyes watched a pair of open doors out to a balcony where curtains were gently billowing out in the night breeze. Their muscles tensed with anticipation as a blond-haired figure became silhouetted against the warm lamplight glow of the room, their arms bending as the leant on the rail to stare out across the garden. The graceful arch of their spine, a subtle tease of the muscles hidden underneath clothing. The steady throb of their heart, the pulse of blood in veins and arteries, the hint of their scent on the breeze making the person who had once been human bare their teeth in anticipation.
Rationality had slowly slipped, draining down into the growing hunger pooling in their thoughts. They had had reasons, good ones, for choosing this prey -not the other, too close, too good, I can’t- but they were half-forgotten now, caught up in watching the subtle shift of muscles, the constant movement of sharp gold eyes.
Watching arms stretching up with a slow, lazy yawn, a small sliver of stomach exposed by a loose pyjama top, head tilted half-back, exposing a column of white flesh, pulse flickering beneath skin thud-thud-thud-
Temptation.
They moved in a blur of movement, out of the cool, hiding foliage, and up to that light and that oh-so-tempting source of warmth.
Mine.
~
The night was pleasantly warm, stone cool under his bare feet as he padded out onto the balcony and leant on the wide rail. He breathed in, filling his lungs with air that smelt faintly of pollen and cut grass, and listened to the cicadas ‘chrp’ in the night.
It was a pleasant end to a mildly exhaustive day. He’d tracked a robber down, picking him out correctly from a handful of suspects in a convenience store, and had arrived only half an hour late for school. He was lucky to have a forgiving teacher for first period - he supposed it didn’t hurt that his grades were among the highest in that class, either.
One last, contented look around, and Saguru stood up to go back inside, a yawn turning into a lazy stretch-
-stumbled back as movement flickered over half-lidded eyes, the suggestion of a shape, moving-
-perched on the balcony, dark curve of something -wings- sketched behind them, blue eyes locked on him-
-turned to run, but a weight bore down on him back, pushing him into the floor with a quiet, lethal hiss-
-they were lighter and his weight gave him the advantage-
-should have given the advantage, because as he flipped them over them were both rolling again and he was sprawled on the carpet, slim, surprisingly strong limbs twining around his and pinning him still.
“Who-“
Saguru’s question was cut off, a pained cry escaping his mouth as sudden pain blossomed in his shoulder, close enough to his neck to make every instinct scream this was a murder attempt. He bucked, twisting under his attacker as he tried to throw them off.
A low, feral hiss greeted his attempts, nails digging warningly into his wrists as the pain in his shoulder lessened. The shadows he could see showed him the silhouette of a head being raised against the lamplight of his room, familiar messy hair making his thoughts stutter into incoherency.
“Shhhhh.”
The voice was guttural and barely human, strange overtones giving it a harsher quality. Saguru swallowed past his shock to ask a question - the most obvious in these circumstances.
“Why are you doing this?”
Their hold on him slackened, just slightly, but Saguru was ready, leg bending and lashing out, shoving more than kicking them away from him, giving him room to scramble back, hand clasped tight over the bleeding wound in his shoulder. He found a wall with his back and stood clumsily, fingers pressing into it as his knees shook under him.
His attacker was crouched, hair falling over their eyes, one hand at their side where he’d kicked them - Saguru felt a flash of guilt, but pushed it away. A low, keening noise escaped their throat and they stood, movements graceful even as they staggered sideways. Saguru winced, standing straighter, opening his mouth to speak. Despite the attack, they were his friend. He’d done nothing to warrant this, and maybe they, too, were innocent…
“Are you-“
Saguru was cut off again, this time by a hand clumsily over his mouth, nails scraping his cheek, and if Saguru had been less shocked by the lightning fast move across the room, he would have noticed the pleading in blue eyes that reflected light like a cat’s.
His attacker’s head lowered to his shoulder and Saguru thrashed, fighting against a grip like steel, his free hand clutching at their shoulder as he tried to pull them away--
stop, stop, stop, stop
--shaking as he felt the tearing pain in his shoulder again, letting out a gasping cry of pain. There was a sudden extra burn, and Saguru whimpered as it travelled along his arm like fire, deadening his struggles, his fingers falling limp, the burn taking over his muscles in an inexorable wave of pain.
Drugs, his mind was telling him, and Saguru finally paid attention, trying to listen to what his intuition was telling him instead of feeling the horrible aching pain in his shoulder. He choked on air, trying to breathe properly as his fingers twitched in response to the signals his brain was sending, trying to lever himself away from the wall, push his attacker away, make the horrible ache in his shoulder stop-
“-Stop,” he managed to say, voice slurred from the drug - or poison, as his detective mind reminded him. Unbidden tears welled in his eyes at the persistent, driving pain and his inability to do anything about it. “Stop,” he gasped again, desperately wanting to escape, but unable to do anything but twitch helplessly, like a butterfly pinned to a cork, his attacker making soft crooning noises as they buried their teeth in his shoulder yet again.
He was feeling the start of dizziness that signified too much blood loss when the ache in his shoulder lessened, the attacker lifting their head from his shoulder with a contented rumbling noise. He cried out as something wet was dragged across the wound in his shoulder, a choked groan of pain as the rasping feeling continued. He tried to clutch at something, anything, intensely disappointed when his body remained unresponsive.
His attacker purred contentedly, a flash of pink tongue showing over gleaming white fangs as they licked their teeth clean. Saguru swallowed uncomfortably as they curled up next to him, inches away from his sprawled legs.
Don’t leave me like this! He wanted to say, but couldn’t do so much as whine, staring helplessly at the wall, completely paralyzed.
~
He knew where Aoko was - off ill with the flu - but where was Hakuba? Kaito frowned, slouching back in his seat as he raised his newspaper to hide his face. It wasn’t like the stuffy British detective to miss a day of school… Unless he’s ill as well! thought Kaito with some glee. And the next Kid heist was tomorrow evening. Kaito’s grin sharpened. What a pity that you’ll be missing it, tantei-san~
Mystery solved, Kaito refocused his attention on the paper, reading through the news until the teacher came in the room and he had to focus on what she was saying. When the teacher called Hakuba’s name for role-call, with no answer, and she asked if anyone knew why he was off, Kaito raised his hand to tender the opinion he’d caught Aoko’s flu, mentally frowning. Why hadn’t Hakuba called in sick? Feh, Mr-Why-Did-You-Do-This probably doesn’t think he needs to.
~
Hakuba didn’t know what to do.
He’d woken up on the floor, back against the wall, and aching all over, having fallen asleep at some point during the night. He had to force himself to move, every muscle in his body protesting as he’d staggered into the bathroom, leaning heavily on the sink until he caught his breath.
He’d stared at the stranger in the mirror, dark circles under his eyes, skin pale, tawny eyes wide and shocked… and dried blood smeared up the side of his neck. It spread from around the aching wound on his shoulder and trailed over his collarbone in messy smears. He’d swallowed, feeling nauseous, and moved to turn the shower on, wanting to be clean.
He wasn’t thinking about why the wound was raw and fresh, but not bleeding. He wasn’t thinking about the small figure he’d woken next to. He wasn’t thinking about the blood that was still staining their lips.
He hadn’t thought about it then, nor through the shower, nor through bandaging his shoulder - clumsily, with shaking fingers that had nothing to do with tiredness and everything to do with the ache in every fibre of his body. He hadn’t thought about it as he got dressed, unable to face a tie or a shirt, just white bandages running across his shoulder and his dressing gown over the top for warmth. All through picking the sleeping figure up - limp in his arms, and breathing softly - he hadn’t thought about it, firmly pushing all thoughts away as he cleaned their mouth with a damp cloth, tucking them into his bed.
But now, sitting down in a chair and waiting for them to wake up, hands steepled in front of him, he couldn’t avoid it any longer. He had to at least try to make sense of his chaotic thoughts.
They’d attacked him. Drunk his blood. He knew them. They’d sounded almost like an animal. He knew they weren’t strong enough to hold him down. Yet they had. And he thought he’d seen the shadows moving, thought he’d seen wings…
Hakuba’s expression was pensive as he watched the rise and fall of their chest, sleeping like the innocent they (probably) still were.
What happened to you, Aoko?
Comments are, as always, love~ ♥