This was an attempt to get Tenpou to talk to me again. Hakkai seems more helpful, even if he insists on angsting at me. Hope you like, and please read and review!
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It was always the same: running, searching, finding, bleeding, killing, dying, tiring in its monotony. And as he struggled into the waking world, shaking like he always was as the shredded remnants of the dream died around him, he realized that this time was different.
Blood on alabaster. Blood on bronze.
Blood on earth. Blood on fire.
Blood on soft, feminine curves. Blood on hard, masculine planes.
Shaking and pushing himself up so he could glance at his peacefully sleeping roommate, Hakkai admitted to himself that it wouldn't be the same again.
It couldn't be. Not after blood on blood.