A/N: As promised, here I am, rolling out some more Hanna fanfic. I can't believe I have so much backlogged. o_o
For anyone who read this on my dA, it has been edited! So there are some minor changes to flow and word choice. But it's still the same story, in essence.
After this one, I've got a WorthMont to post, and then my 3-part series of Worth-Conrad-Lamont drama! YAY! :|

Title is from- oh come on, if you're a longtime HiNaBN fan, you should know. Here, I'll give you the lyrics as a hint: And when her edges soften, her body is my coffin. I have faith in you, Hanna fandom!
(Spoiler alert: It's Ludo, Love Me Dead. :T )

Okay, so! This is the story I wrote when I realized ConWorth was my OTP. (My yaoi OTP anyway.)
On a related note, HAVE SOME SELF-INDULGENT FLUFF.

mycoffin

Conrad did not like people in his apartment. That was primarily for people he didn't know, but he's never really even enjoyed people he knows well inside. He thought it might have something to do with the OCD he was told he had, and that people in the house would mean things would get put out of place, or made dirty.

So naturally, while he's watching public broadcasting and Worth comes through the door as though he does every day of the year, Conrad shoots to his feet with a rather surprised and perhaps inappropriate, "What the fuck."

"Delivery," Worth says as though that solves everything, holding up a plastic grocery bag in which there was a handful blood bags.

"No. Out," is all Conrad manages to say between all the curses on the tip of his tongue, marching over to the too-skinny man and pushing him back out the door.

"Heh. Got some secrets 'round here?" Worth guesses, leaning on the doorframe comfortably. His ever-present cigarette bounces on his lips while he talks, and his eyes survey what he could see of the apartment past Conrad.

"That is none of your business. Out," Conrad repeats, pointing out the door.

Worth chuckles, pinching the vampire's cheek, earning a sneer as his hand is slapped away. "Well ain't you precious. Finally grown a set a' balls, eh?"

"Shut up." Conrad might as well have been begging given the exasperation and desperation in his voice. "And please get out of my apartment."

"I ain't innit." True enough, Worth was standing behind the threshold, in the hallway. "'Less ya want me t' be," he added in a low voice, leaning forward.

Conrad met his challenging stare. No, he did not want this dirty man and all that he represented inside his clean, organized home. But he had to admit, he was curious as to why Worth – who only rarely seemed to leave that hovel of an office – was here, at his doorstep, doing something nice by way of a delivery. The curiosity was killing him, but so was the desire to keep his living space in order.

"C'mon peaches, ain't got all day," Worth cut through his thoughts, stepping over the threshold and dangerously close to Conrad's personal bubble.

"You can come in, but-" Before Worth could move any closer, Conrad held out a hand; "-you are taking a shower before you touch any furniture."

Worth let out a bark of a laugh. "Neurotic 'bout yer home, eh?" he commented with a grin. "Yeah, a'ight." He sounded more amused than anything as he agreed, slipping off his jacket and tossing it at the other man along with the bag of bags of blood. Conrad caught them and hurried to hang the jacket up, tossing the bag on an end table. He rushed after Worth as the blonde began moving through the apartment.

"Nice place ya got," he said, catching Conrad off-guard with the sincere-as-Worth-can-manage tone. He waited for the insult that he thought must follow, and sure enough: "'Course, would expect nothin' less from a fag."

"Bathroom's on the right," Conrad huffed, pointing to one of two doors in the master bedroom that they found themselves in. "Use the green towels, not the blue ones please." Why he added please, Conrad couldn't be sure. It certainly made no difference to the man he was talking to, and if anything, added to the want to use the blue towels that Conrad could see burning in Worth's eyes.

But Worth turned away, and peeled his shirt off, tossing it towards the bed. Conrad's eyes were drawn to the scar on his upper arm. Rather, the bite marks. …Had he left those? Who else would get close enough to bite the doctor? Conrad smirked. He felt sort of proud in an odd, perverse way, but would certainly not share this information with the other man.

"I'll be in the living room," the vampire said, turning to leave as Worth started on his pants. Conrad had no want to stick around, lest he be tempted into what he knew they both wanted. Not yet, anyway.

He settled once again in front of public broadcasting, leaning back into the couch with a loud sigh. If he had known what he would be getting into by fucking Worth, he probably wouldn't have done it. "Ughh," Conrad groaned, sinking down in the couch. For as prick-ish as Worth was, he could sure cling: following him places, inviting him to stay the night, and now showing up on his doorstep. Even if Conrad had been called "puppy" on occasion, Worth was sure acting like a lost one.

The water was running, and Conrad realized he had been focusing on that, not the TV. The water, splashing down on Worth, running down his body, tracing the scars, the bite marks, the curve of his neck, the bump of his collarbone…

It was too much. Conrad snapped his attention back to the television determinedly, as if to prove that Worth wasn't all he thought about.

Except that would be a lie. A pretty blatant one, too. He was always thinking about Worth. For all the time that they spent together, Conrad had never really seen him doing any of those stupid little daily things that every human being did: eating, bathing, even sleeping. Whenever they spent the night (or day, as the case often was) at Worth's place, it was always spent bickering, having sex, or sleeping. (At least, Conrad assumed Worth slept or ate. He had yet to actually see him with his eyes closed, the slow even breathing indicating the temporary unconsciousness; or put anything into his mouth besides a cigarette.) He wondered vaguely what sort of things Worth dreamed about, what he ate for breakfast.

"Oy peaches," Worth called from the bedroom. When had the water stopped? Conrad shook his head, standing.

"What?" Gah, why did he even respond to those nicknames anyway?

Worth appeared in the doorway, green (not blue; this started a whole other list of questions in Conrad's head) towel around his waist, another on his head, presumably left there during the attempt to dry his hair. In his hands was a framed picture. He was smirking. Conrad rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming. "Y've seriously got a family photo in yer room?"

"Yes, now please put it back." There was that please again. Why did he bother using it towards- Oh. Because apparently it worked? Conrad noted as Worth retreated into the room with a snicker. That was… odd. Who knew that Worth actually responded to "please"?

"Got a pretty hot cousin," Worth commented, reappearing and rubbing the towel on his head. "Least, I'm assumin' that was yer cousin."

"Probably," Conrad murmured, swallowing. He was now becoming increasingly distracted by the fact that Worth was near-naked. Just a little. He was trying ridiculously hard to keep his eyes on Worth's face, but even that wasn't helping: his smirk was telling Conrad that Worth knew very well what was going through his head.

"Um." Conrad blinked, and looked over Worth's shoulder. "Thanks for, y'know. Not using the blue towels."

"Can't risk yer wrath, now can I?" Worth joked with a short laugh. "Don't need yeh throwin' a hissy fit."

Conrad hadn't realized he had taken a couple steps forward, drawn towards Worth. He could see a few drops of water on his chest, the red on his shoulders where the too-hot shower had pelted him. He wanted to rub those shoulders.

And that was a weird thought. He had never ever been a touchy-feely person. People were dirty. He supposed it was one of those things that had been pounded into him during his childhood. Of course, touch during his childhood was limited to bullies and what few hugs he had gotten from family. Nothing very comfortable from anyone.

In fact. Worth had been the first to touch him with any gentleness.

"We gonna fuck'r not?"

Worth's voice reached him, and brought him back to reality. Worth had closed the distance between them, leaning down just a little to look down on him with the same knowing smirk. Conrad squirmed. He sort of hated that bluntness.

"Why're you here?" Conrad managed as Worth's hands fell to his waist. "Uhh. I mean. Y'know."

"Toldja, delivery." Worth's hands were already working on the button to Conrad's jeans. "Haven't seen ya 'round th' office inna few weeks."

Conrad let out a rather pathetic keen, tilting his head up to feel Worth's warm, smoky breath on his face. Worth chuckled. "Cute."

Conrad probably would have blushed, but then there was the whole "dead" thing. Instead, he settled for allowing his hands to trail over Worth's chest.

He lost himself around that time, but would piece it together for himself later, as he laid in bed.

Worth had led them over to the bed, drawing Conrad forward by his pants before tugging them back onto the bed. Conrad landed a little roughly on top of the blonde, but neither seemed to mind as Conrad's mouth found Worth's neck. It was true – he hadn't been by Worth's in nearly a month, and hadn't eaten in over a week. So as he sunk his teeth into Worth's jugular, getting harder at the groan it brought forth, he was grateful that he hadn't kicked Worth out when he had the chance. Fresh blood – Worth's blood – really was so much better than the bagged shit.

Next, he supposed, was when the clothes and towels had come off. When he closed his eyes, he could remember the way Worth's hands slid up his stomach and chest, pushing his shirt up. The way the rough hands were way too gentle on his frigid skin.

It took some effort, but Conrad had pulled away from Worth's neck. He licked up the trail of blood that had pooled near Worth's collarbone. Then trailed kisses down his body, finally slipping off the bed as Worth sat up so that Conrad could more easily suck him off. They both knew that, no matter how Conrad acted afterwards, the vampire loved taking Worth into his mouth, swallowing him down, and sucking hard. Worth's hands in his hair, combing through short black strands, and the little noises he made (along with the louder ones) let Conrad know when he did something right. He had learned a few things in the past, including dragging his fang lightly across his shaft would cause the hands in his hair to stiffen and when he pulled away for a moment, Worth's hips would unconsciously move forward.

With little more than a gasp and the hands on his head gripping tightly as warning, Worth came. Conrad rode it out with him, only pulling away when the shudders and moans and pants slowed. Then it was his turn.

Conrad had never really been a particularly rough person, during sex, during fights, during anything. That was, until Worth came into his life. Before the doctor, Conrad held back in most facets to avoid hurting someone else. But this relationship – because, he told himself, face it; you're in a relationship, however fucked up it might be – had taught him how to let out what he was feeling. It was a great outlet, so that he didn't snap at clients or coworkers or what few friends he had.

So there was little gentleness in the way he pushed Worth back onto the bed. Conrad took a moment to just look down at Worth, whose cheeks were faintly pink, hair was soft-looking as it dried, and eyes were bright and expectant. Damn. When did Worth get this good-looking?

Conrad pushed a finger into Worth, earning a moan in response as the blonde's eyes fluttered closed. He added a second finger, mostly enjoying the way Worth was responding to him all of a sudden: needy and wanting. It wasn't long until Conrad was shoving himself into Worth, earning a snarl – he supposed it was a little too rough, even for Worth. But that didn't stop him.

Apparently, it didn't stop Worth from coming again either, seconds before Conrad let himself go.

For a minute or two, Conrad laid on his side next to Worth, who was on his back, staring at the ceiling. They basked in some odd sort of afterglow, Conrad's fingers tracing patterns on Worth's chest, one of the blonde's hands still scritch-scratching through the black hair.

Finally, Conrad had to get himself up. "I'm going to shower," he announced, stretching. He felt good. A shower would only add to that. Then he could read a bit before falling asleep for the day.

He wasn't long in the shower. Despite what Worth had already seen of him, Conrad wrapped a blue towel around his waist before reentering the bedroom. Worth was over at his bookshelf, considering the top shelf of books.

"So yeah, thanks for the drop-off," Conrad said as he pulled out a pair of pajama pants from his dresser. "Um. I'll see you in a week, I guess."

"Kickin' me out, huh?" Worth said, finally pulling a book down. "Y've stayed at my place; think y' can return th' favor?" He shot Conrad a smirk as he threw the covers aside on one side of the bed, making it clear he had no intention of leaving, no matter what Conrad had to say.

All in all, Conrad supposed he didn't mind, per se. It had been a while since he had shared a bed with anyone. He supposed when he was over at Worth's place that the doctor slept in the same bed as him, but Conrad was always the first asleep and last awake, so he couldn't be sure. "Um." He tugged his pants up before rifling through another drawer. "At least wear these." He tossed a pair of boxers at Worth.

Worth laughed. "Y've never slept naked?"

"No, and in this house, you won't either." He paused, then added, "Please."

Worth's smirk widened, but he stood and did as he was told. Conrad hid his surprise. So this Please thing worked. Cool.

Worth set the pillow back against the headboard to sit back against it, but Conrad was tired. He crawled under the covers, curling up facing Worth with a hand under his pillow. " 'Night," he murmured without thinking.

"Day," Worth corrected. But reached over and gave Conrad a little pet on the head.

Conrad drifted off, feeling oddly content and happier than he had been in a while.

He woke early, yawning and stretching under the covers before settling and laying there for a bit, wondering why he felt so great. He rolled over to find that all-too-familiar too-skinny frame next to him, and couldn't help but smile. Weird.

But wait! Weirder was the fact that Worth was sleeping. Conrad laid for a long time, just watching Worth's chest rise and fall, listening to the little murmurs of sleep-talking. He looked tiny, vulnerable, and almost childlike. It was odd to see him like this. Conrad almost felt as if he was just let into a huge secret, finding out that Worth did, in fact, sleep like a normal person.

Worth yawned, stretching his arms above his head before they came to rest on his chest. He blinked himself awake, staring at the ceiling, then glanced over to Conrad, who had been staring for quite some time.

"What."

Conrad smiled. "Nothing."

Worth rolled his eyes, lifting the arm closest to Conrad and motioning him over. "C'mere then."

Conrad pulled himself over to the other, laying a hand on his chest so his fingers intertwined with Worth's hand, while Worth's other hand was rubbing little circles into his back.

It was crazy to think it, Conrad thought, closing his eyes and letting himself fall into a little half-sleep, but maybe, just maybe, this relationship with Worth was more than just sex and blood.

Wouldn't that be weird.

"Don't say it."

Conrad opened his eyes, tilting his head to see Worth's face. "Don't say what?"

"I know yer thinkin' it. Don't say it. Y'll juss ruin it."

"As if there's anything to ruin," Conrad countered.

"Exactly." Worth leaned down and placed a little kiss on Conrad's forehead. "Now. Y've got any food in this place?"