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He's not surprised he got stood up, really.
The girl was way out of his league — he's talking like unnatural levels of cute — and asking her to go to this party with him was a complete shot in the dark in the first place. Sure, they have one or two classes together and seemed to get along fine, but, even to him, it was obvious they hadn't interacted enough to warrant her showing up, even just as pals. He just hopes she doesn't think he's weird for suddenly coming onto her, though.
Really, he only asked her out cause Yoimiya's parties are actually fun, unlike the fifty other parties that people hold during Halloween. But, compared to the ragers from prior years, this one hasn't, uh… lived up to expectations, you could say.
It feels like there's double the amount of usual people, but the energy is all wrong, and, somehow, even being notoriously social, he barely knows anyone. It's also the first time that he's genuinely had no one else to go with — Shinobu was busy with her degree (he'll never understand why she chose to do another year of college and do law of all things), Takuya wasn't interested at all and refused to go (traitor), and the others already had plans with their families (honourable but still so annoying). He sips sorrowfully at the lukewarm cup of… whatever-this-is — it tastes carbonated, so he's not even fully sure it's alcohol — that he picked up at the beginning of the night.
Yoimiya's great, obviously. She said hi when she was making her rounds a little while ago, but she only stayed for a couple minutes before running off to go kiss her girlfriend, or something.
The air is thick with the smell of cheap alcohol, sugary candy, and sweat (the main reason he refused to wear an actual, full costume this year, opting instead for a headband with red horns attached; this heat is no joke — you'd really think it would be colder since it's Autumn), but he doesn't even have anybody to hate it with. He sighs, pitifully taking another sip out of his cup.
"Hey, stranger."
Itto chokes, his drink sloshing dangerously against the side of his cup as he startles, threatening to spill all over Yoimiya's shitty carpet. A melodic, boyish laugh sounds from beside him as he coughs. The liquid burns his throat on the way down.
"Woah, careful there."
He flushes in embarrassment. Archons, tonight is not his night — coughing his lungs up in front of a stranger cause he was too zoned out is just his luck, honestly. He lifts his gaze and-
Oh.
Oh.
What's probably the prettiest guy he's ever seen stands in front of him. His alabaster skin seems to glow even in the dim lighting. Dark blue hair frames the sharp cut of his jaw, falling delicately by his ears (and, oh, are they pierced? He can definitely see the glimmer of something any time the strands shift), the shorter wisps curving against his cheeks. His face is obnoxiously cute, plush pink lips and eyes that… oh, his eyes. The most gorgeous shade of blue looks back at him, long eyelashes fluttering.
"Are you… okay?"
It takes him a moment to register that he's just been staring at the poor guy without responding, and he blinks slowly, before quickly ripping his gaze away and scratching his neck. His face burns.
"Uh, right, yeah! I'm- I'm okay! Are… how are you?"
Has he ever even spoken to another person before? What is he doing? Very cool and suave way to interact with a hottie you don't know, man, Archons. The other just laughs, completely oblivious to Itto's internal misery. It's a sweet sound, but one that sends an unexplainable shiver down Itto's spine.
"I'm good," the guy responds, smiling sweetly. "Saw you from the by the stairs and liked the costume." He gestures to Itto's head with a nod, stifling a laugh with his hand. Itto feels his cheeks warm in embarrassment.
"Yeah. Not the best for a Halloween party, huh?"
The other hums. "I don't think it's that bad. Sometimes simpler is better."
Yeah, as if.
"Really?" Itto asks, tone flat.
"Okay, I lied," he makes a placating gesture, hands up. You just seemed interesting," he amends, then winces. He lifts a hand up to brush a stray strand of hair away from his face. "It's just, I don't know," he worries his plump bottom lip between his teeth, and Itto gets a little bewildered at just how sharp his canines are (before he uses his brain and realises the guy's probably just dressed as a vampire (which would explain the all-black outfit and, well… the cape. He doesn't claim to be the brightest bulb in the box, okay?)), "this party's kind of boring, don't you think?"
"Dude, I know right?" Itto's whole body relaxes, muscles visibly untensing in relief. So it's not just him. "I thought I was the only one," he confesses, eyes flicking to the hoard of bodies surrounding them. The sound of conversation and laughter is as lively as it was when he got there. "Everybody else seems to be enjoying it like usual, but I dunno. Maybe we're just not in the right mood, I guess." He shrugs noncommittally, taking one last sip of his drink before finally giving up on it and setting it down on the closest table.
The other (Archons, he should really get his name — he's cute, so he supposes cutie should do for now) nods, folding his arms across his chest.
"Yeah. There's a lot of people here, not really any chance to get any privacy." That same cute smile is planted on his face, but there's an undercurrent of unexpected and abrupt bitterness weaved into his tone that makes Itto bark out a laugh.
"For real, compadre, it's insane! Like, can't a guy just mope in peace without having ten people bump into him?"
"Oh, did I interrupt your moping?" he teases.
Itto's easy grin falters slightly. Cutie must sense the change in atmosphere because he goes to apologise, but Itto just shakes his head.
"No, it's- it's okay, genuinely. Just got stood up, is all." He feels a little pathetic saying it, but the sympathetic look on cutie's face makes him feel minutely better about himself. Hell, if he has a guy like this caring about what he has to say? Maybe it was for the best that she didn't show up (he was gonna make a fool of himself either way, clearly).
"Oh. I'm sorry. That," cutie trails off, shaking his head with a grimace. "That really sucks. But, on the bright side, they're really missing out. I mean," his grimace slips effortlessly into a coy smile, "you're not half bad. I wouldn't stand you up if you asked me out."
Itto's heart skips a beat.
"Yeah?" His throat is dry.
"Yup," he replies cheerfully, popping the p. "Not to be overly superficial, but you're hot. Really hot. Even if I didn't know you, I don't think I would hesitate much." There's a couple seconds of silence before he adds, rolling his eyes playfully, "I mean, I'm sure your personality is just as sexy as your biceps, but you haven't had much time to show that just yet." His eyes narrow ever so slightly. "I'm sure we could find the time, though."
Itto feels uncharacteristically shy at that. Call it desperation, or him being shallow, whatever. Just… hearing that from someone after what's been a pretty shitty night so far makes his heart stutter in his chest. Fuck, okay. Yeah, he's- maybe he's just desperate. Can you blame him, though? He's sure that if it were anyone else that was the subject of this guy's flirting, they would also jump at the chance to spend time with him. His heartbeat is erratic as it thumps against his ribs.
"Hey, what's your name?"
Cutie's eyes move from where they're fixated on his chest, looking up to meet his eyes (Archons, their height difference is really… something). His whole body seems to light up, a sense of eagerness in the air that wasn't there before. He smiles with bared teeth.
"Oh, it's-"
"Itto, you're still here!"
He's going to bash his head into a wall.
"Yoimiya. Hi." He swears he stops his eye from twitching (the barely muffled snicker from beside him tells him otherwise).
"Hey, hey! How you feeling, big guy? You looked so down in the dumps earlier," she inquires, hands on her hips as she looks him over. She jumps slightly as she notices his company, the energy between them seeming to have finally registered because she giggles.
"Oh! Ha, sorry for interrupting," she winks not-so-subtly at Itto, and he looks away, face red. "But! Some of the others are tryna convince Kazuha to play 7 minutes in heaven so he can finally get some, buttt," her voices takes on a more pleading tone, "we kinda need more players to make it believable, and it looks like you're still here! Sooo…" She bats her eyelashes at him, and he shakes his head, exasperated. He has no idea who 'the others' are, but he honestly couldn't care less. Unlike earlier, he does actually want to be left alone — well, not alone by himself, alone with the hot guy who's flirting with him!
"Absolutely n-"
"Sure, why not?"
Cutie looks up at him with a serene smile on his face, and Itto stammers — it becomes even worse when he grabs Itto's hand, the contact making him a little dazed (especially when it's paired with the way his hand feels so big compared to the other's, hoo boy…). Yoimiya flicks her eyes between the two of them, a conspiratorial grin on her face.
"You playing?"
"I- I guess so?"
She grins.
"Great! We'll be in the guest bedroom — the on with the bathroom? Meet us up there in a couple minutes, kay?" He doesn't even get to respond before she's darting away and practically sprinting up the stairs.
He groans, heavy and exasperated. Cutie squeezes his hand with a laugh, gorgeous indigo eyes twinkling with mischief. Itto can't even find it in himself to be mad that the guy volunteered them for that stupid game when he looks like that. He could probably kill him and Itto would still be at least a little fine with it, as long as he looks at him like that.
(Archons. He just met him, what is he on about? Maybe that drink was alcohol after all.)
"Hope you're not too upset about that, I just… hm." His focus seems to shift down to Itto's neck, eyes glazed and mouth still open. Itto feels goosebumps prickling along his flesh as his fake fangs catch the light. But then cutie shakes his head, looking back up at him with the casual expression he was wearing before. "Couldn't lose my chance to actually get you to myself somewhere more," he mindlessly trails a sharp nail across the inside of Itto's wrist, "private."
His dick twitches in his jeans as his breath hitches. Huh. Guess Yoimiya was less of a cockblock than he thought.
It takes the will of a strong army to not pop a boner right there in the crowded kitchen, especially as cutie holds his arm against him and unintentionally digs those sharp nails into his knuckles. He only barely suppresses a hiss of pain, plastering a playful smile on his face even while his whole body feels like it's on fire.
"Let's go."
Itto finds himself being dragged through swathes of costumed partygoers, yelling out apologies behind him whenever cutie shoves past them carelessly. He stumbles after him, the other's grip a lot stronger than he thought.
Itto tries desperately not to stare at cutie's ass as they make their way up the stairs, but he only half succeeds, gazing longingly at it every few seconds. Fuck, that ass is nice. The way it bounces subtly on every step makes him genuinely have to fight back drool, as if he's a damn dog in heat. The other tilts his head back like he has some sort of sixth sense, catching his eye with a sly grin. Itto averts his eyes, face reddening at being caught.
It's fine.
Well, in the beginning, that is.
Yoimiya cheered as him and cutie walk in, and she offered him a look at the sight of their intertwined hands, shooting him a quick thumbs up when cutie wasn't looking. The rest of her friends practically ignored them, though — it was obvious that this whole thing was created as a last stitch effort to encourage Kazuha to make a move, but, ah…
Yoimiya's idea was cute, and if it was anybody other than Kazuha that she was trying to set up, it probably would have worked by now. But, as it is, the poet is just playing card games with Heizou while they wait to get chosen by the spin of the bottle. Mission failed successfully, he supposes, but then why are the rest of them even still playing?
Cutie looks more and more irritated every time the bottle spins and they don't get a turn. He feels a little bad — he doesn't think the other guy really knew what he was getting into when he said yes. Maybe he just didn't fully know what 7 minutes in heaven actually was. Itto doesn't know. Truthfully, it's getting a little boring for him, too. There's only so many times he can cheer random people on as they go off to make out before he just stops caring. The flirty atmosphere between him and cutie has basically evaporated at this point, regretfully. Speaking of… Itto sneaks a glance at him.
Cutie's knee bounces from where he's sat cross-legged. A look of pure irritation is painted across his face, so exaggerated it almost makes him laugh. He just glares at the bottle as Yoimiya takes her turn spinning it. That catches Itto's attention, actually.
"Yoimiya, don't you, like, have a girlfriend?" he questions, bewildered. She just shrugs, wide grin on her face.
"It's not like I'm gonna make out with anyone in there, Itto, jeez!" The shake of her head is playful as she reprimands him. The bottle spins between them. Itto's eyebrows furrow.
"So why are you playing then?"
"So I can socialise?"
"That's-"
"Oh, look! It landed on you!" Yoimiya interjects gleefully, stretching her arms as she stands. His eyes dart to cutie, and he sees an expression of utter bewilderment wash over his face as he looks between them and the bottle. Itto can't help but relate to it, honestly. Here he was, thinking they would actually get to be alone, like cutie wanted them to be in the first place. He stands with a sigh, gazing longingly at the other.
Whatever. The night started shitty so it only makes sense that it would continue to be, even when he thought it was finally turning around.
"I'll be right back."
(The feeling of the other's glare tracking Itto as he leaves simultaneously makes his skin crawl and his stomach erupt in butterflies, Archons above.)
Itto shuts the bathroom door behind him with a dramatic, fully body sigh. Yoimiya laughs, patting the tile in front of her.
"C'mon, sit down!"
"Yoimiya, I love you, but what the hell?"
She rolls her eyes.
"Relax, it's your turn after this. You should be thanking me, if anything," she tuts.
There's silence between them for several moments as Itto processes her words. Then a huge grin cracks on his face, tension slipping from his muscles.
"I didn't know you played wingman, compadre!" He slaps her knee playfully, and she twirls a loose strand of hair around her finger, putting on a show of innocence that makes his smile even broader.
"What? I have no idea what you're on about," she flicks her hair over her shoulder in a show of dramatic flair. "Just stopped it on purpose, is all. Now," she stretches her hands upwards with a grunt before settling them down in her lap. "You need some help."
A whole new wave of confusion washes over him.
"What?"
"Well, for starters, he doesn't seem to be enjoying himself — neither of you do — so if you're actually trying to get laid tonight," — Itto splutters at that, but she ignores him — "pay more attention to him!" Her hands move animatedly in front of her as she speaks. Itto half feels like a little kid being lectured, but he resigns himself to it regardless, nodding along.
She does actually have a point, as much as he feels a little silly to admit it. It's pretty (more like really) obvious now that he thinks about it for more than a few seconds.
"You're gonna leave if he wants to leave! And if he doesn't? You spin that bottle and make it count!" Yoimoya jabs her finger into his abs with every sentence, and he nods rapidly, swatting her hand.
"Okay, I get it, I get it!" Itto insists, sighing. He runs his hand through his hair, leaning back ever so slightly. "So I... I ask if he wants to go somewhere else?"
She shrugs noncommittaly, a pensive expression on her face.
"You may as well. Neither of you look like you're enjoying yourselves. You should see if he wants to go out to eat somewhere or something." She wiggles her eyebrows, smile returning. "He does seem to like you." Itto's face reddens, and he waves her off.
"Of course he does! I'm me after all, what's not to love?" (It sounds weak even to him.) "You seem awfully invested in this, y'know."
"Course I am! The happiest guy I know looked utterly miserable earlier tonight. What am I supposed to do if not support him with my full chest when he's finally perking up? Even if all you get out of this is a one-night stand, the guy's cute, and you're clearly feeling wayyy better with his company, so."
Nevermind. He takes back anything even vaguely bad he's ever thought about Yoimiya. She's literally the best, actually. His body feels warm for a completely different reason now, a much softer smile finding its place on his face.
"Wow, that's... thanks, dude."
"Anytime, big guy! Now," a serious expression falls on her face, "to the more important stuff; do you think I could set off fireworks in the backyard? Or do you think the neighbours would call the police for disturbing the peace?" She does airquotes with her fingers at that last part.
He takes a moment to consider, then nods his head, resolute.
"You should do it! Would really brighten up the place!"
"Exactly what I was thinking!"
He laughs as he stands, offering Yoimiya a hand to pull her up. She accepts it gratefully.
Cutie is in the same position Itto left him in, eyes still fixated on the door as if he hasn't looked away from it since it shut, but Itto swears his glare is even sharper as he stares at the two of them coming out of the bathroom with smiles on their faces. The other looks away quickly as he sits down with an oomph. Even with cutie's rocky attitude, he's completely revitalised, fresh confidence flowing through him.
"Spin the bottle."
"Cool, cool," Itto does so, nodding, despite not feeling cool at all. He has no idea what's happened to him tonight; he usually has at least some level of confidence about anything he does, even if it's partially put on to make himself or others feel better, but… something about cutie makes him so nervous, like his every movement is being tracked down by a predator. Which is silly, he knows that, but it's… intimidating? Thrilling?
Really hot?
Itto shakes his head to try and clear those thoughts from his head (to little success — now all he's thinking about is cutie hunting him down (and how devastatingly appealing that idea is)). Normal thoughts. Normalll thoughts. He sighs, running a hand down his face as he thinks back to the advice Yoimiya gave him. Cutie wants to keep playing, so he can't exactly leave with him now. Would it be that weird to take him out afterwards? No, right?
He steadies himself. Of course not. Inhaling deeply, he gathers what's left of his self-assuredness. Ignore the weird effect this guy has on you and just… be confident.
"Hey," Itto starts hesitantly (okay, maybe faking confidence is easier said than done), voice cracking slightly. Cutie doesn't look up at him. Itto clears his throat. Archons, this is awkward. "When we're done playing, do you maybe wanna… go somewhere to eat? I heard that seafood place down the road is pretty good?" he offers, tone hopeful. The other murmurs something that sounds like "we'll go eat, alright", and Itto perks up.
He goes to give some other options, but before he can, cutie stops the bottle's spin with his foot, gasping in faux surprise, hand over his mouth.
"Oh, wow! Looks like it landed on me, how convenient." He spits the last word, shooting to his feet and clasping Itto's hand in a vice grip. He practically drags him over to the bathroom, ignoring Itto's confused protests as he stumbles after him. The door shuts firmly behind him, and cutie locks it with a flick of his wrist.
Itto laughs nervously at the sudden overbearing, tense atmosphere, but it peters out at the stillness of the other's body, still angled towards the now locked door.
"I thought you said you wanted to go eat?"
Cutie doesn't respond. Itto's smile twitches.
"You oka-"
His back is suddenly shoved harshly against the sink, and he shoots his hands out behind him to steady himself. A hand slaps over his mouth, muffling his groan of pain. Something sharp grazes his neck, and in his confusion, Itto's half convinced the guy's pulled a knife on him. He frantically tries to pull away, lifting one of his hands to try and shove him back, but it's immediately forced back down onto the porcelain with almost unnatural force.
It takes him a few moments of struggle to realise that neither of the guy's hands are free. One of them holds his hand down, and the other keeps his back pinned to the wall, leaving his spine in an unsteady arch. The realisation dawns on him slowly, his brain fighting to keep up. It's not… he doesn't have a knife. Itto's blood suddenly goes cold.
Cutie breathes unsteadily against him, body shaking with deep inhales. His teeth graze Itto's throat, a hair away from piercing it. The desperate noise that vibrates against his skin sounds like it comes from a ravenous beast rather than a twink that's practically a whole foot shorter than him.
"I've been waiting… for so fucking long… to get a taste of you."
Itto trembles helplessly, unable to do anything but stand there as the other licks a long stripe up the side of his neck. His throat bobs as he swallows.
"You're, ah, you're really forward-" he says, voice muffled.
"Shut up."
Itto whimpers. Cutie still doesn't do anything, simply sniffing at his neck and nudging the points of his teeth against it, as if he's finding the best place to… His whole body shudders. Everything inside of him fights to not come to terms with just who the other is — what he is. The futile attempts his brain makes to rationalise the situation make his head spin. Regular people can have sharp teeth. It's not… it doesn't necessarily mean he's a vampire. Vampires aren't real.
(He's gonna die here. He's genuinely going to die.)
His entire body erupts in pain as cutie sinks his fangs into his throat.
It's a strange pain, really. Almost indescribable, in the sense that it feels like thick needles. The intrusion is so foreign that his brain is suddenly cotton. Panic fills him briefly, before it soaks away, almost like it was never there before — it's just… strange. For a situation that he should be trying to escape from, his body is completely lax. Even the pain lessens slightly the longer it goes on.
He can't feel his hands.
Blood flows in rivulets down his neck, soaking into his tank top and dripping to the floor. The sensation of it draining from him is odd, as if it's being sucked through a straw, but its flow is so smooth at the same time. It makes his head swim in a whole new way, and his grip on the sink loosens even further (he's surprised he's still standing, but he guesses he can thank the other's firm grip for that). His cock twitches in his jeans.
Fuckkkk.
He groans against the hand covering his mouth, eyes rolling back. This is so fucked up. If he actually makes it out of this he's gonna need some serious therapy, 'cause he obviously has something wrong with him. Cutie groans against him, trying to push his head in ever closer. Itto can only imagine what a sight he would be — blood dripping down his chin as he drinks his fill, takes and takes what he needs from him.
The other pulls away before moving to another spot on his neck. Itto whines and subconciously bucks his hips at the feeling of those teeth piercing him again. He can feel the head of his cock rubbing the zipper of his jeans through his boxers, the dull chafing combined with the sharp stabbing making heat pool low in his belly.
Thrusting his hips into the gap between them provides very little relief, his body aching for the other to touch him. Itto's eyes flutter as he fights the urge to shut his eyes, both from the blood loss and the insane thoughts running through his hazy mind. He wants- no, needs it. Craves it. Craves those sharp claws dragging lines into his skin, craves him wrapped around his cock in every way. A guttural moan rips from his throat as cutie pulls away again.
Itto's body heaves with deep breaths as blood drips from the open wounds. The other somehow looks like even more of a wreck, deep red covering his mouth and chin and sliding down his own neck. There's a crazed look in his eyes, despite his demeanor being much more relaxed than when they first entered.
"You taste good," cutie hums, tongue darting out to lick the blood away (he barely manages to get any of it due to the sheer amount coating him) as he looks up at Itto through thick eyelashes. That makes Itto feel giddy, somehow.
It's probably the blood loss (is what he'll tell himself to avoid having to unpack whatever's wrong with him to enjoy any of this).
"I," his voice is hoarse and his words are sluggish as he tries to force them out, and cutie lifts his hand away when he realises he's trying to speak, eyebrows furrowed. "I do?"
Something changes in the other's gaze, then. His head tilts as he looks Itto over, eyes raking down the length of his body until they catch on his jeans. A pleased yet surprised expression emerges on his face when he notices how hard Itto is.
"Well. Isn't that just the cutest?"
The sight of those teeth cracked in a sadistic grin makes Itto's blood run cold and his cock ache. Cutie leans in again, going on the tips of his toes to reach Itto's face. The sudden proximity makes Itto's breath hitch — it gets much more intense when the other cups his face in his palms. Every rational thought is telling him to push him away, but he can't feel his hands, can't move them despite not having anything holding them down anymore.
The world around him falls away as cutie leans in even closer. He doesn't kiss him, not yet, just keeps looking into Itto's eyes. Cutie's nails dig into his cheeks as if he's unaware of his own strength. Beads of blood pool at his fingertips, but all he offers them is a cursory glance before looking back at Itto's fluttering eyes.
"Such a strange human."
Before Itto can even blink, cutie's lips are on his. He moans into it, unable to do anything but stand there as his lips move rhythmically against the other's. The underlying threat of his fangs never left, but some twisted part of him aches for them to dig back into him, regardless of the pain it would cause. His hips grind forward, and a desperate sob rises from his throat as his bulge brushes against the other's leg. Pre stains his underwear.
The buzzing of everything just makes the friction sweeter, a dizzying cocktail of pain and pleasure that drives him crazy. A laugh vibrates along his lips, and on his next gasp, he feels a tongue press against his own. The sudden metallic taste of his own blood makes his heart skip a beat, and he finds himself humping cutie's leg even firmer, pace quickening. He's breathless, but the other doesn't even seem to care, licking into his mouth and holding him close.
Fuck. He's gonna cum. He's covered in blood — his own blood — and he's gonna fucking cum in his jeans.
Right as he's about to reach that glorious precipice, cutie pulls away. A string of spit connects their lips, saliva reddened from the blood shared between them. The other licks his lips with a groan, pecking Itto's once more before pulling away for real. Itto whines at the loss of contact, hips still grinding forward into nothingness.
"No, please, I wanna-"
"Cum? I felt it, you know." There's a reverent look in his eye as he drags his nails down Itto's face, leaving deep red lines in their wake (Itto can't help the way he moans as he feels even more blood drain from him, body getting colder yet more eager for anything). "Pretty pet, grinding against me. Did it feel good? Having someone so dangerous let you hump them like a dog?" he coos.
"Uh-huh-"
"I didn't say you could speak, did I? You're not allowed to unless I ask you to." His nails dig in deeper, tone severe, and Itto cries out in pain. After a second or so, he relaxes, and Itto pants for breath, lungs rattling with exertion. Cutie hums, contemplative, before licking a long stripe up his cheek, moaning at the taste. When he pulls back again, the crazed look in his eyes is even worse.
He goes back to standing properly, once again neck-height. His fangs prick at the already ruined skin.
"I don't usually fuck my prey, but since you're so desperate," his hand trails down Itto's chest down to his jeans, unzipping them in one smooth motion. Itto's breath stutters as his dick is groped through his boxers. Archons, even just a small touch like that and he's close to cumming all over again. Cutie runs his hand across his cock, just barely teasing the head with one of his nails, pulling away when Itto makes a genuine sound of protest.
He scoffs.
"Relax. I don't drink blood from cocks." His head tilts, and he's silent for a second, jerking it slightly through the fabric. "Although, that wouldn't be a bad idea…" Itto whimpers in fear, and he just shrugs, rolling his eyes (as if it's obvious that he wouldn't bite at Itto's dick just to drink from him?). "Not with you, no. After all," he reaches into his underwear and lets Itto's cock slap against his stomach as its freed, "you've been a good pet, haven't you?" Cutie wraps his hand around his dick, fingertips just barely brushing against one another. Itto's heart does flips at the approving noise he receives.
"Letting me feed from you so diligently," his pace is slow as he fucks Itto's cock into his fist, ignoring the eager noises slipping from his mouth. He noses at the column of his throat, breathing in his scent with a shudder. "I could've killed you — still can," he amends, rubbing his thumb over the head and pulling it away to gleefully watch the string of precum that follows. He uses it to slick up his movements, making Itto whine. "But you still let me."
Cutie presses dozens of slow, sloppy kisses along the side of his neck as he strokes his cock, cupping Itto's jaw in his other hand. Itto struggles to stay upright, knees practically shaking from the differing sensations (and, again, the blood loss). The nudge of sharp teeth against his skin makes him shudder, a breathless, gutteral groan slipping from his throat. Cutie grins against him, mean and sadistic as he flicks his wrist to jerk him off faster.
"No, that's it," he whispers. "Let the world know how good I'm making you feel, pet." He drags the tip of his nail lightly against the side of Itto's cock as he fucks it in his fist. Even the vague notion of what the other could do to him — the ways he could hurt him — makes him burn, stomach coiling with need.
"I don't… even know your name," Itto slurs, hips bucking into the other's hand. He immediately expects pain for disobeying, but cutie just laughs.
"You don't need to. Doesn't it make it so much more exciting that you don't know who I am? That you have a stranger's hand wrapped around your cock?" His grin deepens as he wolf whistles. "And to be so needy that you would fuck a creature of the night."
Itto can hardly take it any longer. The other's barely touched him, only just fit his hand around his cock, but he's already about to cum like he's some virgin. He has experience, he's had so many one night stands, he should be able to take a handjob without cumming prematurely.
He was doomed from the start, honestly. Cutie's still the hottest guy he's ever seen, even with blood dripping down his chin, crazy eyes, and the turn of personality he's had out of nowhere (he's — regretfully, for Itto's future therapist — even hotter as a deranged, vampiric sadist).
Cutie seems to notice every time he's about to cum. But, unlike last time, he doesn't pull his hand away. Instead, he jerks him off even rougher, tightening his grip around the shaft as it twitches in his palm. He's relentless as he toys with the head of it, uncaring of the amount of precum covering his digits. The glare he levels Itto with is intense, not even pretending to show any care for him as he fucks his cock into the tight curl of his fist.
"Cum. Cum for me right now or I'll kill you."
He feels so lightheaded. Panic swells in his system as he feebly tries to reach that precipice, but no matter how hard he focuses on it, he just can't. A desperate sob rises from his throat and the other rolls his eyes.
"You were the one that was this desperate, pet. Wanted me to taste you, sink my teeth into you. Is that it?" He scowls. "You can't get off without my fangs buried in your neck?"
Itto nods frantically.
"Uh-huh, I need it, please-"
His vision whites out as he feels the now-familiar sensation of teeth stabbing into his neck. He collapses into cutie's arms, no longer able to hold his own weight at all, and the other holds him close as he milks his cock and neck at the same time. It feels like the world's shattering around him, being reshaped like shoddy patchwork by the other's touch.
Tears stream down his face before he can even register it, making the cuts on his face sting as they fall into them. His brain is complete mush as ropes and ropes of cum cover cutie's fist, some even landing on the floor between them. His ears are ringing.
The space feels like glass as he settles from his orgasm. Sobs tear from his throat, and he doesn't know whether it's from the pain, the pleasure, or the sheer intensity of the situation as a whole. Cutie drinks from him for a moment or two longer before pulling back. He wipes his chin with his hand, only succeeding in smearing the viscera further across his face. Blue eyes focus on Itto's face, his own expressionless. A hand reaches up to swipe Itto's tears away, before he's being pulled into an awkward hug.
"That's it, pet. You did so good."
The praise only makes him cry harder. He vaguely notices that he has sensation back in his limbs, but they're filled with pins and needles, so he just ragdolls in cutie's hold.
"I couldn't have asked for a better human tonight," the other coos, kissing along the bite marks he's left all over Itto's neck. "Gorgeous human. Thank you for the meal."
They just stand there in the bathroom for several minutes as Itto sobs. He's sure the other's sick of him by now, knows he could leave whenever he wants to, but he doesn't. He keeps his arms wrapped firmly around Itto, even offering his neck another gentle kiss when Itto finally gathers the courage and the strength to tentatively hold him back.
It's around the fifth minute that the other coughs, pulling away slightly. Itto's tears have become less a torrential downpour and more a light drizzle. Everything hurts, but the approving glance cutie offers him makes it not matter.
"Are you okay?"
Itto just shakes his head. The other pulls away anyway, helping Itto stay steady (and put his cock back in his underwear, embarrassingly). He takes a step back, looking Itto over once again.
"I already know I'm a mess," Itto croaks, rubbing at his eyes. The other shakes his head with an exasperated sigh. It's the most relaxed Itto's seen him the whole time they've been together (he guesses it makes sense — he's not hungry anymore, after all).
"Silly pet." His tone is achingly fond as he reaches for the door handle. Itto feels disappointment wash over him.
It's silly. He's alive. He should be thankful for that, at least. But all he feels as cutie unlocks the door and starts to twist the handle is… regret isn't the word, but it kinda is. Some stupid part of him did wish he was special. More than just a one-night stand. He tries to shake it off as best he can, though. He already know it was gonna be something like this when he met him, the situation being different (way different) than he thought it would end up being shouldn't change anything.
(It does. It so does. Of course he would be the one to get a stupid crush on someone he only met tonight, and who wanted to kill him not that long ago.)
"It's Scaramouche, by the way."
What?
"What?"
Scaramouche rolls his eyes.
"My name? You seemed so desperate to know it before, thought I would offer you a mercy — another one, really, considering you're still alive — and give it to you."
He opens the door (not fully, thankfully, saving some of Itto's modesty from the outside world (which, now that he thinks about it, were the others out there the whole time-?)), looking back at Itto over his shoulder.
"Just so you know who you belong to now."
Hope blooms in Itto's chest as the bathroom door clicks shut.