Sho paused as soon as the door closed behind him, blue eyes distant and . . . not quite tracking. Kei frowned, concerned - then had to hold back the urge to jump up and rush to Sho as he slid down into a heap. His long white coat was spattered with blood in a few places around the rolled collar and one near the hem, though only in small drops that Kei knew would not be his.
"Oh. . . Oh, little one." Kei shook his head, torn between fond amusement and achy regret. He rose from his place on the couch and moved to Sho's side, helping to scoop him off the floor. "Come here." he said softly, stroking Sho's hair back.
Sho shuddered against him, and Kei shushed him gently, tugging him along into the bathroom. "Let me help, little one." he soothed, stripping the coat off - he'd clean it himself, later - before pushing Sho to sit down and wetting a cloth, making sure it was warm.
There was blood smeared across Sho's face and dripped down his throat - far enough to be soaking into the collar of his shirt - already congealing and going flakily dry in some places. Kei resisted the fleeting impulse to lick it off him - some combination of hunger and instincts that had only appeared after he had turned Sho - and focused on the cloth.
Sho's eyes were a little unfocused as he looked up with the nudge of Kei's fingers beneath his jaw, but he was quiet. He shivered as Kei gently sponged the highest splatter of drying blood from near the corner of his eye, working down from there.
He licked his lips, then made a face, growling quietly, at the cold and sticky blood he licked away. Kei hissed softly, then detoured to clean the congealing blood away from his mouth before he tasted it again.
It wouldn't have bothered Kei so much, but Kei had pushed himself to the verge of starvation many times, and been relegated to the dregs of whatever he could find to survive on even more often. He was glad that Sho didn't have that experience to make him less particular. He kissed Sho's temple and then pulled back, wringing out the cloth.
Rewetting the cloth, Kei combed his hair back and stroked it over one high cheekbone, leaving only a slightly rusty-pink stain on the soft skin. He sighed, vague memories returning of his own first experiences hunting, feeding . . . making a mess of himself.
Luka had pulled him through it gently, offering advice, but not really babied him, either.
Kei looked at Sho's face, the slightly shocked, open expression, the dawning realisation in sky blue eyes, and knew that he could do nothing else. He had condemned his little one to this, only because he could not stand to lose Sho, and he couldn't just leave him to it.
Even if Sho probably had a better grounding for his new life than any other new vampire in history. Kei's mouth twisted and he stepped closer, bowing his head as he hugged Sho close, hiding his expression from Sho.
"It's all right, my little one." Kei crooned, lips brushing Sho's hair. He shouldn't have left Sho alone to feed - not that he'd gone as far as Sho had asked, had assumed. He couldn't, no matter what Sho had asked - he couldn't deny his little one, certainly not now, but he couldn't abandon Sho while he fed, even doubting he'd run into trouble.
Kei smoothed the pad of his thumb over Sho's full mouth, then followed it with the cloth again, cleaning away most of the remaining stain of blood.
But he'd stayed far enough away not to see if Sho had been troubled afterwards, and taken himself hurriedly back ahead of his little one to preserve the sense for Sho that he'd been left to himself. As he'd asked.
Kei hadn't seen the mess Sho had made of himself - hadn't bothered to look at the man left behind; Mallepa had changed little since Kei had left and returned, and no one would think twice over a beaten man left dead and bloodless in an alley - or his uncertain face until he had walked in the door.
"I'm sorry, Sho." Kei murmured as he cleaned the last of the blood off Sho's throat, his own throat aching and tight as he felt the stillness under his fingers. A heartbeat that had accompanied Kei for years, and that he had heard in his dreams even after he'd run from Sho, and now . . . gone forever. He closed his eyes, dropping the cloth into the sink.
"I'm sorry." Sho said in return, startling him, and Kei drew back again to look down at him. Sho gave him a sorrowful smile, and Kei wanted to cry. "I knew you . . . but I never understood quite what. . ." he trailed off, with a sigh.
Kei swallowed roughly. "It's all right." he said, his voice barely even. "I never wanted you to understand, little one." He winced. "Oh. . ." He shook his head. He didn't apologise again - he knew Sho wouldn't listen, at least not now - but he drew Sho in close to him again with a gentle pull.
Sho curled against his chest as easily as ever he had, and Kei hugged him a little harder than he would have before. Despite everything, Sho had always been a fairly light-hearted child - not foolish, but just as stubborn in his persistence on being happy as he had at everything else - and even as he grew older, it had stayed that way.
It had hurt Kei more than anything else to see that gone, when he finally saw Sho again after so long. More even than seeing how Sho had aged in the years since he left his little one behind.
"I never wanted you to understand this." Kei admitted quietly, closing his eyes.
Sho pushed him away, and Kei didn't want to, but he wouldn't impose when Sho wanted him away, and he stepped back. Sho stopped him before he went far, though, hands still on his sides, curling into his shirt. "Stop. You-" he swallowed, his eyes wet. "You always protected me from everything you could, Kei. If you hadn't- The only-" He looked away.
"I hurt you." Kei said, barely a murmur, touching Sho's cheek. "It was the one thing I never wanted to do, no matter what, but there. . . I failed."
"The only thing you ever did to wrong me was leaving me and running away." Sho almost snapped, his blue eyes cold enough to make Kei flinch. He'd seen them chill that way a few times now, but it was still just . . . wrong.
"That was not supposed-" Kei began.
"I know what you were trying. I know you, remember?" Sho said, tugging Kei closer again. "You came back. When I really needed you, you came back." His voice was soft and full of childlike certainty.
"For you." Kei said softly, resting his hands over Sho's. Anything for his little one, no matter what it demanded of him. As it had been since he'd been adopted by a too-curious, skinny child with too much faith.
"I forgave you for leaving as soon as you came back." Sho said, with a slanted smile.
"You always have forgiven me too much." Kei said, cupping Sho's face. Though of all the things he should have borne a grudge over. . . "My trusting, sweet little one."
Sho snorted, cocking his head. "Only you would say so." he said lightly, his eyes softening a little. Closer to a familiar, warm shade now. Like a summer morning sky. "Of course, any of my men," he paused, a flicker of a flinch crossing his expression, "would expect me to retaliate for words like that."
"Well, you've only ever been my little one." Kei said, as lightly as he could, though he was not nearly so good at it - at pulling on a smile even when his heart ached - as Sho. It was still enough for the grief in his eyes to fade a little, washed away by fondness and a flicker of amusement.
"I can square with that." Sho said, his lips quirking. "I liked being your little one." he admitted, in a tiny voice. "I missed it, when you were gone. Even if I was grown."
Kei fought the lump in his throat. "Well you still are." he said as smoothly as he could, ignoring the tight, painful knot in his chest. It had nothing to do with Kei turning him, after all, only with the same reasons as he had always been. That they had chosen each other.
This was originally written as part of a challenge, for the prompt 'wash'. The title was chosen both because of the rite of passage of 'being blooded' in battle (though this is far from Sho's first fight, it was still a traumatic first) and the nod to his literally bloodied state.
