.Morning
Rido marveled at the resemblance and difference they shared. They shared the same shade of auburn hair, the same complexion, the same shape of the nose, eyes and lips, a dark beauty even among the creatures of the night, feared and revered at the same time, desired, endlessly desired by many.
Yet they were different too, the way his eyelashes were shorter, how the other's crimson eyes were framed with long elegant lashes, a thing of beauty in itself that he would never be able to rival – for after all, what he was, he only inherited and owed to the man sleeping beside him.
He leant forward, his lips touching pale shoulders, the curve of an equally pale neck which, just the night before, he'd sunk his fangs into and drew old thick blood from, his tongue lapping that red, red torrent even as his lover's angry protest escaped him as a moan, his lips parted in ecstasy.
This – this powerful, old thing from ages gone by, a force of nature that cannot heretofore be possessed by anyone, was Rido's alone. The complicated work that was the Blood Bond ensured it, and the cost was Rido's own nephew, his old love's child, but that had been a small price to pay for him, who was disillusioned in Love and was convinced that to Love was to take Love for oneself, no matter the means and the destruction.
Rido destroyed his family to attain Love, this person who cannot refuse him even if he hated him with all that he was, because Rido was his master, and would be his master until either he died first, or he and Rido died together.
Crimson eyes opened and stared at him, and Rido stared back with his mismatched eyes, and his hand caressed the strands of softly-wavy hair from pale cheeks.
For a moment his lover seemed confused that he was capable of gentleness.
The sun is up, Rido spoke, his voice quiet.
There was a nod.
Rido's hand found his lover's chin, and his lips closed over the other's own mouth, which still tasted of his seed. He relished the fact that he could reduce this proud, old creature into his servant, a servant forever waiting for a command from him, the master, senses tingling whenever he was near. He possessed him like nobody else, he owned him, all of him, and yet, every time Rido brought him round he resisted, a wild animal with ferocious anger, even though in the end he knew Rido would have his way and possess him all over again.
Kaname turned his face away, breaking the kiss. He ached everywhere. He could only vaguely remember how he ended up going home with his 'uncle'; they had both been present in a soiree hosted by a noble family he could not now remember, and he had been minding his business by the balcony when his 'uncle' made his presence known, and he knew it, with the way his senses sharpened and jumped to full alert and he hated it, and Rido asked him for a dance, and they must have looked strange, a spectacle, two men in perfect tuxes dancing with each other on the floor.
What time is it, Kaname heard himself ask.
I don't know, Rido answered. I don't keep the time.
Rido watched his lover sit up and run a hand through his hair, the curve of his spine perfect against the bloodstained sheets.
This beautiful creature was all his.
In a way that Juuri could not be his.
He moved forward again, tracing the contour of Kaname's spinal curve with his lips, and the other pureblood tensed against him, waiting.
Lay down, Rido whispered to Kaname's ear, and Kaname hated him again for it, but obeyed.
Sometimes Rido couldn't believe how he lusted after this vampire, this crimson-eyed relic from the ages gone by, but his hunger was there, only as strong as his need, and he knew that all these trysts in between soirees and fancy events could not satisfy him, not even if he locked Kaname up in his room forever so he could have him whenever he wished.
Kaname is at his most beautiful when his lovely ageless face cringes in pain when Rido enters him, and he is tight around his master's throbbing cock, so tight that a pleased murmur escapes Rido's lips. He gasps when Rido moves with abandon on top of him, claiming him, possessing him, riding him, pounding into him, his skin flushing with the excitement and arousal he couldn't deny.
You're mine, Rido purrs against his lips, taunting him, threatening him.
He cries out incoherently, delirious with pleasure and pain, his legs spread. Rido digs claws into his chest and his blood flows, red against his skin and red against the silken sheets, staining everything with a deep ugliness no words could describe.
Rido drives himself in deep and for an eternity Kaname seems to lose his eyesight as white spots overtake his vision, and Rido tenses on top of him and spills in deep, marking him as he had been marked a thousand times before, in his most intimate depths.
The scent of his own blood intoxicates Kaname.
Rido licks his 'nephew's' lips before kissing him, their mouths hot and wet and busy, until he is nicked against Kaname's fang and his lover laps up his blood with as much fervor as a desperate whore, and it is in these moments that Kaname cannot deny that he has gotten himself into trouble, trouble that he can't run away from.
They both slowly relax against each other as their orgasm ebbs away. For a moment neither moved.
I love you.
The words came unbidden, and unexpected. Kaname opens his eyes but sees nothing but the canopy of Rido's head above him. His nose is flooded by his lover's scent, his master's scent. The scent of their lying and feeding, the scent of their bodies and their blood.
A tiniest of gestures, and Kaname turned his head.
One blue eye looked at him from beneath Rido's auburn locks.
Love. There was no normal love here to begin with, only death, blood and obsession, and lust that cannot be sated, he says this to Rido.
Rido kisses him deep and hard, a torrid thing of fang and lips, and leaves him breathless.
Between his legs and in his depths, Kaname could feel Rido slowly waking up again.
But if I tell you there is, Rido whispers. That there is love, and it is yours, what will you do?
He couldn't answer. His crimson eyes reflect fear.