Disclaimer:This is to clarify that DNAngel and its characters rightfully belongs to Yukiru Sugisaki.
Summary: Like a cat toying with its catch... Until eventually he breaks... KradDai vampire erotica.
Rating: M (for safety)
Genre: Supernatural/Romance
Warning: Some blood, non-con, and bondage. Unfortunately nothing beyond kissing
A/n: Okay, this is sort of a challenge fic. I was accused of being a total yaoi pervert by Feathery Fear-san, and I wanted to prove her wrong. See? I can write something non-yaoi! It's shonen-ai at its most extreme, just skirting around yaoi, but NOT yaoi! But enough talking – please, enjoy
Blood Red
By Whitewings9
The market was full of weary slave traders eager to rid themselves of their stock. This particular trader was unhappy to have to relinquish ownership of the little redhead for cheap, but the surrounding bargain-offerers left him little choice. He accepted four pieces of gold – a pittance – and moved on.
The boy now lay asleep in a foetal heap on the bed, dressed in a pair of ragged shorts, no shirt, and a scuffed leather collar around his neck. His wrists were tied together with rope, hands clasped to his chin as if in prayer. He had been sleeping since late afternoon after a simple meal of buttered bread and broth, and Krad had watched in faint amusement as he licked his fingers clean of crumbs. Aside from a few timid glances in his direction, however, the boy had kept his eyes averted from his new master.
Krad leaned over his slumbering form, listening to his soft, even breathing. He could smell the blood pumping through his veins, could almost taste the clinging dark richness. His tongue licked over his upper lip, eager to quench its dry, week-long thirst. But he suppressed his predatory urges. There was no hurry; the boy was his to keep for as long as he wanted. Drinking from a conscious prey was always preferable; fear gives an added intoxicating flavour, and he wanted to look into the eyes of this boy in particular.
As he inhaled the boy's unique scent, Krad mused over how he had come to own him. He was not accustomed to purchasing slaves. An exception was made this time because of the enrapturing brilliance of his eyes; they were a warm ruby hue, like freshly shed sacrificial blood. The symbolism was in stark contrast to his wide-eyed innocence; he resembled a lost rabbit, at the mercy of its captors, yet seemingly oblivious to the cruelty of his existence as someone else's possession, for he had not the air of hopeless resignation blanketing the other captives.
That child-like innocence was more pronounced in sleep. His lips were parted slightly, fiery red hair laying in soft locks over his closed eyes, framing his peaceful expression. Krad impulsively reached to finger a lock, trailing between the fine, individual strands as he gazed intently at those inviting lips. He wanted to capture them in a kiss. He settled for lightly thumbing them instead, feeling its softness.
The boy began to stir awake, and his eyes flew open in brilliant crimson. The moment he met Krad's golden gaze, those eyes of his widened impossibly, and he let out a little squeak of surprise. His bound hands instinctively shot up to hide his face, an endearing if-I-can't-see-you-you-can't-see-me mentality at play, but Krad held them to his chest and the boy could only cower whimperingly. The near-tangible fear was rousing Krad's predatory instincts, but once more he managed to keep himself in check. He could afford to be patient, he told himself. It would be more rewarding if he bided his time.
"What's your name?" he enquired, his light melodic voice soothing the boy's anxiety.
"D-Daisuke," the boy stammered. "My name is – Niwa Daisuke, m-master."
"Daisuke..." Krad repeated softly.
The ensuing kiss started gently, but rapidly deepened as Krad was finally consumed with desire. Growing distressed, Daisuke tired to pull away from the pressure, but his resistance incited a flash of wrath from his master, and he cried out as Krad bit suddenly into his lower lip, drawing blood. Fluid beaded in angry red over the bite wounds, the sharp metallic tang exciting Krad's bloodlust; he begin to lick at the droplets in full eagerness, and Daisuke could only mewl pitifully at the stinging pain, eyes moistening with prickling tears.
The small sample assured Krad of the quality of Daisuke's blood, and it served to whet his appetite. Finished with his fastidious licking, he slipped his tongue through Daisuke's invitingly parted lips and began a thorough exploration of his virgin mouth, loving the endearing little sounds he made. Tasting him, touching him, hearing his voice – he was drowning in the boy, in rich redness. He was drowning in drunken lust.
When at last the kiss broke, Daisuke lay still as he caught his breath. There was a light tug at his neck and the unmistakable sound of a buckle coming undone; his collar came loose and was carefully removed, leaving his exposed neck vulnerable to his master's exploring lips. A muted whimper reverberated up his throat, and Krad grabbed a handful of silky red hair to hold him in place, lips hovering just above Daisuke's pulsing jugular.
"Don't move," Krad whispered authoritatively, his breath tickling Daisuke's naked neck, causing him to quiver involuntarily. As he felt something sharp pricking into his skin, raw panic surged through his system and held him in a deadly paralysis, even as his breathing grew erratic and his heart battered against his ribcage.
"Please don't hurt me!" he burst suddenly in a plea, eyes screwed shut in helpless terror.
But he could only let out a pitiful sob as fangs sank into his flesh, tapping into his bloodstream. A gasp as Krad began to drink hungrily, draining his slipping strength. He finally opened his eyes and stare through swimming tears at the night sky beyond the majestic arch windows. It was strewn with tiny glittering pinpricks of light. One by one the lights faded, swallowed up in gathering darkness. In the end there was only blackness.
Having drunk his measured fill, Krad licked appreciatively at the marks left on Daisuke's neck. He had refrained from drinking too much, anxious to keep the little redhead alive. Like a cat toying with its catch, he wanted to savour him. Until eventually he breaks.
A/n: Sorry it's so short, but I didn't want to spend too long on a little whim, and I need to return to other works (and your request fic, Feathery Fear, it's in progress – don't kill me!). I might continue if I get enough reviews... In any case, thank you for reading.