Ruben and Leslie stood on the steps of the Victoriano Estate. Ruben had his hands on his hips while Leslie was hunched over, fingers tapping against each other.
It was little over six in the evening, and Leslie didn't wake up until the afternoon. Ruben had come up from the basement a few hours before. He managed to file through his father's papers.
They spent their day avoiding one another, Ruben mostly, he didn't want to deal with Leslie, and Leslie didn't seem bothered by the distance.
"He's not coming," Ruben said, shaking his head. He wasn't as surprised as he thought, but it still annoyed him that Jimenez didn't come back.
"He's not coming...he's not coming" Leslie looked up, "What do we do?"
Ruben frowned. He didn't know what they were meant to do. He should've expected this from Jimenez. "Let's go back inside." He lead Leslie into the house and closed the doors, the sound echoed off the walls and the silence between them rang in Ruben's ears.
Leslie placed his hands to his stomach and Ruben heard the undeniable grumble.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
Leslie nodded.
Ruben sighed, "Okay. Follow me." He lead Leslie through the dining room, down the hall and into the kitchen. It was a mess, but as he opened the fridge and found little food, some of it was spoiled, molded, rotten. He picked up an orange and checked a few to see if they were okay and found one that was. He walked over to Leslie who had sat down on a chair.
"I don't have much food here," he said, peeling the orange, "I'll get Jimenez to buy something for you when he returns."
He stayed focused on the orange peels, the cold texture of the orange inside, instead of the eyes that were fixed on him. He didn't know why Leslie was staring, not until he felt his hand on his cheek, tentative, soft. His fingers seeking out what was beneath the bandages that covered his face, his head and the rest of his body.
Ruben dropped the orange peel and reached for Leslie's wrist, pulling his fingers away from him. "Don't touch," he said.
Leslie's brows knitted together, he breathed deeply through his nose, but he did what Ruben asked and kept his hands in his lap.
Once the orange was done, he held it before Leslie. "Eat."
Leslie cupped the orange and stared at it for a moment while Ruben threw out the orange peels. When he turned around, Leslie had pulled the orange apart and was passing the half piece to Ruben.
He stared at it, mouth parted, before shaking his head. "No. You eat it."
"Eat it," Leslie said.
His stomach ached just by looking at it. He knew it would be sweet, cold against his tongue, but he also knew that it would hurt to swallow it. Ruben took a step back, shaking his head, but Leslie held it out.
"I...can't," he said, a grotesque feeling came over him, tightening in his head, making him shudder at the sight of the orange.
Leslie frowned, he looked at the orange before placing his own on the table and ripping a smaller piece off, holding it out to Ruben. "Eat."
Ruben clenched his teeth to stop his breath from coming out too hard. His heart raced, a sickening feeling in his chest. He reached for the slice of the orange and touched it, the coolness on his fingertips made him dizzy.
Leslie ripped off his own and ate it without trouble.
When was the last time he ate? A few days ago? A week ago? He didn't know, it seemed like a long time, and the food always disagreed with him. He stared at the piece, bright orange, its sweet juices inside were inviting, but he could think of something else. Something warm along his fingertips, the incision of parted flesh, the red thick blood sliding out, it made his mouth water at the thought.
Ruben ate the orange.
He kept it on his tongue for only a moment before swallowing. He clenched his teeth at the jarring feeling and suppressed a shudder that ran through his body.
Leslie stared at him as if there was something wrong with him.
Ruben stepped away, hands shaking at his sides. "Just eat your food," he said, before leaving the room. He wiped at his mouth in the hall, trying to calm his frayed nerves. He didn't normally have too many issues with eating, but the food sometimes came back up. It disturbed his time researching, so he simply stopped eating, letting the hunger linger before finally, it faded.
Now, the food was sweet and he wanted more, but he was afraid.
"Ruben."
He turned around and Leslie stood too close, looking up at him. The orange wasn't in his hands, but the smell of citrus lingered around him.
"Are you finished?" he asked, curling and uncurling his fingers.
Leslie stared at him and he stepped closer, his hand touched his arm and he leaned up. Ruben knew what was about to happen, and whatever sickening feeling he felt before about the food vanished from his mind the second Leslie's lips touched his. It was the press of lips, hesitant and small, and when Leslie was about to pull away. Ruben grabbed his arms, digging his fingers into his skin, he turned him around and pressed him against the wall.
Leslie let out a hitched cry before it was silenced. Ruben lost himself in the kiss, prying Leslie's mouth open, he touched his tongue which earned him moan. Leslie's hands held onto him, and he breathed hard through his nose as Ruben smothered him with his mouth. He chased that fluttering feeling he had for some time, the one where he looked at Leslie with distaste. He craved it, he grew hungry and starved for it that when he finally got it. He could do nothing but drown in it.
Ruben pulled back, gasping, his fingers still digging into Leslie's arms, keeping firmly against the wall. Leslie gasped, his lips puffy and red, slick with spit. He closed his eyes, shaking.
Ruben slowly let go of his grip on Leslie and leaned into him, his entire body covering Leslie's, and as he closed his eyes, forehead pressed against the wall. The distaste came back, the one that drowned him in that delicious starvation that earned screams from his victims, that filled him with something he could grasp with the slice of his knife.
"Why are you doing this to me?" he asked after awhile of them catching their breaths. He knew that he shouldn't have succumbed, that falling into this was too dangerous for him. He recalled the taste of citrus in his mouth that came from Leslie's, that was filled with it. The warmth of his was tantalizing, a deep and utter control spilled forth from his mouth, from his hands.
Ruben stepped back, his mind controlled, his body exhausted from the mental battle of his decisions that he had to make. A kiss from Leslie should've been distasteful, but he wanted it for so long, the single moment of his eyes falling on him was where his wants came from. He should've been more wary, this was nothing but a distraction. He should have more control.
He took another step away, "You can't...do that again."
Leslie looked up, his mouth parted before he bit down on his lip. "Can't?"
Ruben gritted his teeth, how would he be able to to make him understand. "You can't do that again, Leslie. Do you realize what I am, what I've been doing, you seen it first hand. You can't just dismiss it as nothing, you have to understand that what you did was dangerous."
"Why?" he asked after a moment.
Ruben looked down at his hands, his fingers curled, a thought to strangle Leslie came to mind, but he pushed it away. "Because if you did it again...I don't think I would stop, I don't think I would care about you wellbeing." He met Leslie eyes, "Because you're not mine to do with as I please."
A silence between them was disrupted by the front door closing, an echo so loud that it jolted them. Ruben's brows furrowed, he left Leslie in the hall, not caring if he followed. He walked through the dining hall and into the foyer where the doctor stood with his suitcase, currently he was holding a file.
"Jimenez," Ruben said with gritted teeth.
