( Ah. That's - he hadn't even considered those as ... things that had value, to another person. He felt like he was floundering - is always floundering, trying to figure out how to do good before something bad happens, an endless sense that the worst is always just around the corner. He didn't realize someone could find worth in them. He didn't realize Ginger did.
He presses his cheek, his ear, against Ginger's neck, lips against his shoulder, and he... closes his eyes. He can hear it. He'd been so scared before - that night, when he'd bit him, and now...
He exhales, soft - extraneous. Maybe it's a sigh. Maybe he feels happy, too. Maybe that's what this is, what this means. )
... It's nice. Really... really, nice.
( And he can feel his scraping thirst, whet - though he wasn't this hungry before this.
He wishes he had a better way to thank him for thinking of him so much. He knows Ginger says it's the side of him that's demonic, that's possessive and fixated, but - it's fine. It's fine. Whatever Ginger claims is the cause, it's fine. It's all Ginger, in the end.
He closes his eyes, listening - indulgently. He wants to drink. He really wants to drink. But he wants to linger a moment longer, before Ginger gets so flustered he has to excuse himself, since... Mika can't do anything for him. )
... I... Could we do something when you're... done after this? Nothing specifically, just... Is that fine?
Mhm. I get to see you twice today? ‘m happy… [ He sure sounds it. That’s a yes. ] ‘m excited to see you.
[ When they’re this close, he doesn’t need to speak too loudly. Everything drops to a murmur like secrets shared over this bonfire warmth between them, even though Mika burns cool and Ginger runs hotter than anyone he knows. ]
Not sure how long it’ll take, but I can come find you - after.
[ In the back of his mind, around the corner of happiness, he knows the time before seeing Mika again will just be frustrating. Frustrating, at best. Impossible and endless at worst. It’s the guilt. Sometimes he can’t - finish - because he needs - a thought of skin, an imagined gasp from a voice he longs to hear. But he feels so damn guilty thinking about Rum like that - and now he has another person to add to that list.
He hates that part of himself so much. Wonders if he weren’t born with an angel face, would all of his ugliness have shown on his face...?
He wishes he could just send himself to Mika in the near future, skip over this depraved need, so that their time together could be seamless.
Still, it’s worth it for Mika. If Mika likes his blood, he can have it all. ]
( Lingering there, against Ginger's skin, he murmurs just as quiet in turn: )
... Okay. I'll be waiting.
( He's very good at that.
The gentle beat of Ginger's heart carries in his blood and Mika can nearly taste the sweetness of his blood's scent, and for a moment Ginger seems a window to the world - one he'd grown otherwise indifferent to. Mika will probably find something to worry over, in time; it's how his care expresses. But, right now... he's happy.
It's strange to take happiness into a feeding, he's never done it before. There is at first that familiar press of his teeth against Ginger's skin, and then a punctuated teething... He'd meant to ask if he could do it now, but he forgot, and Ginger's just too appetizing.
A little different than he'd done it before, where he'd sunk down his teeth where he first made contact, he searches - his fangs' points run along the skin, teasing a bite, but not quite committing as his lips trail up along the neck. His breath is warm, warner than he is, his lips licked wet with anticipation - until he seems to hit a point that satisfies him a little further up the neck, with a vibrant pulse.
His fangs press in, and he licks up the blood as it spills down along the neck - slow and intentional, not at all hurried. It'll end soon enough - he takes very little this time. But something about him wants to linger. )
He resists the urge to shiver at first, having forgotten that Mika’s lips were pressed there all along. The first time had been rough and he’d half-expected something similar.
The other half expected something more… clinical. A bite or two, there and done. An impersonal feeding, almost. And Ginger would have sat there and closed his eyes and waited it out.
This is nothing like that.
This feels slow and sensual in the same way his dreams play out. He knows that’s not what Mika is trying to do. Mika is attracted to the blood, as is instinctive - not to Ginger. Mika is savoring his food - but Ginger, he…
He won’t say Mika’s name and he - doesn’t moan, pressing the lines of his mouth shut. But something slips out of him anyway, pleasure-tinged and conquered. Quiet but a louder sound than he ever wants Mika to hear.
His body curls around Mika, fingers clenched, like he wants to crawl in - like he wants to bury his head in the pale crook where neck and shoulder meet. Like he wants to force Mika’s head back, open his mouth with long fingers, and lick his own taste off those canines - those canines -
He feels hot and violent and restless where his body reacts.
( He feels at ease with blood on his tongue, sweet in his throat. He feels calm - he feels good. Ginger's blood is just as thick as he'd remembered it, its taste near overwhelming - something that has lingered in the periphery of his senses; something that has asked him since that night, in gentle whispers, why don't you go find him? why don't you have a little more?
It's really hard to keep from drinking more. Harder, still, knowing what he knows by instinct: that the blood tastes its best in the moment of a creature's death. His blood is this rich now - how much better could it be if he kept going? If he drank a little deeper? If he just—
But he likes Ginger. He likes him a lot. And he'd miss him if he went away.
He's just enough of himself to take in Ginger's quiet but indecent sound, feel Ginger - and feel Ginger curl around him tighter - though not fully conscious, it still heats his cheeks, a shiver running through him in faint realization. Hesitating, he's tempted to give into his instinct to linger - to feel, to hear what else he can provoke in Ginger, now that he's here enough to be aware of it.
But Ginger doesn't want this. Right? He recalls this vaguely, in the warm haze of his mind. ... So he withdraws his fangs, fingers tangling in his hair at the back of his head as if to keep him still, and he runs his tongue across the wound, sucking gently at it - for practical reasons as much as thirst, so the blood isn't left to overflow before it can be healed or covered.
Still, he doesn't lift his head when he's done, even if his lips part from the skin. It just means his breath can brush against the tender injury, though, when he does finally speak, voice low: )
[ Wrecked and guilty, sinful with how good the lust feels sitting low in his belly. Even better that Mika stays near, breath on his skin. That’s not the answer he wants to say, though he doesn’t want to lie to Mika either. ]
… Like a demon. Like I want more.
[ For those two thoughts alone, he doesn’t think he paid in nearly enough blood. He owes Mika so much more for what his imagination came up with, for what replays in his mind. ]
Your lips feel like you’re leaving love marks all over. So…
[ He strokes Mika’s back once - (sorry. I’m so sorry.) - and then loosens his hold. If Mika’s uncomfortable, he can pull back; if he’s uncomfortable, he should.
And if he even thinks about helping, he should run. ]
( Oh... Coming down from the daze of feeding, faster than last time since he didn't take so much, he reddens - ah. Does it feel like that to everyone? Or just Ginger? Maybe he should advocate more strongly for a cup, if others might feel like it's so... intimate.
Mika hesitates where he is, not sure if he should pull away to look at Ginger - does Ginger want that? - but also not sure if Ginger wants him to stay so close, with the state he's in. )
... Good. ( He feels kind of bad saying that when Ginger feels ... good? in a way he's clearly guilty over. But Ginger said no more apologies... ) ... Calm.
( He's absolutely biting back a suggestion to help somehow, again. He'll always be; he can't help it.
He doesn't pull back - not yet. He still isn't sure if he should. He can feel - Ginger's problem, but he doesn't want Ginger to feel like he's making Mika uncomfortable by being what he is.
"Like a demon," he said. Like it's something he should be punished for. )
Would it help if I did it differently next time? I just— I did what felt natural, but...
( Unfortunately vampires are naturally slutty so this was perhaps an oversight, )
[ That’s what Ginger wants: Mika, well-fed and feeling comfortable enough to - take from Ginger. And he won’t act like he’s not desperate enough to beg Mika to take all the good things he deserves.
‘Next time,’ Mika says. Good, says all parts of Ginger. The angel part that devotedly wants to keep him safe and happy; the demon part that wants to keep him. ]
… I like being close. [ Despite what an absolutely bad idea it is and he knows it. He hasn’t let go; he’s just unlocked the door, left it open a tad, where freedom lies on the other side. ] I think… um… no matter what, it’ll happen with me. Just do it however you want.
And - maybe - I’ll get better at this or figure something out.
[ Might be a good idea to remember that if Rum finds out about this he’ll castrate Ginger for being a pervert and it’ll be problem solved. ]
( If that's what Ginger likes, then he'll stay. He could be made of molten lava and Mika would resolve to stay anyway. This isn't so bad in comparison, )
... I don't know how much help I'd be... but we can figure out something together. It doesn't just have to be your problem.
( Though, he gets it's embarrassing. He totally gets why Ginger would want to just figure this out on his own. But Also... he can't let it slide without saying that.
He curls his fingers in Ginger's hair idly, trying to ease the awkwardness out of him... be cool so Ginger can be cool... we got this... )
... I know... you don't like this, and - it's... difficult. ( Hard, ) But, um... If it's not weird to say... I think it's nice— um. You know. That... well, you're like this because your parents loved each other a lot, right? ... Despite every difference. Despite everything, I think... you know. At the core of all this is love, right?
( But maybe he's just talking out of his ass and making light of Ginger's suffering... what does he know... He's just thinking - at least it's not a curse, right? It's awkward for sure, but... it came from a place of love. )
[ He hasn’t looked down at Mika yet. He never sees Rum’s face in his heated dreams - thank goodness for that. He doesn’t deserve to see those gorgeous eyes. So. He doesn’t deserve to see Mika either, not while he’s having these thoughts.
If he saw Mika’s eyes now - would he… would he see them in his dreams…?
( Is he still pretending he won’t see Mika? He’s such a stupid, stupid, stupid fool.)
Mika’s voice brings him back to the present. It’s endearing the way Mika starts and stops, Ginger’s eyes crinkle with soft affection. He’s beginning to recognize that this is Mika, earnest - when he sounds exactly like this. The halting sentences, the fingers threaded in his hair. No one else has ever tried so hard to make Ginger feel better about - Ginger.
He smiles, and it grows and grows with each word. ]
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no subject
He presses his cheek, his ear, against Ginger's neck, lips against his shoulder, and he... closes his eyes. He can hear it. He'd been so scared before - that night, when he'd bit him, and now...
He exhales, soft - extraneous. Maybe it's a sigh. Maybe he feels happy, too. Maybe that's what this is, what this means. )
... It's nice. Really... really, nice.
( And he can feel his scraping thirst, whet - though he wasn't this hungry before this.
He wishes he had a better way to thank him for thinking of him so much. He knows Ginger says it's the side of him that's demonic, that's possessive and fixated, but - it's fine. It's fine. Whatever Ginger claims is the cause, it's fine. It's all Ginger, in the end.
He closes his eyes, listening - indulgently. He wants to drink. He really wants to drink. But he wants to linger a moment longer, before Ginger gets so flustered he has to excuse himself, since... Mika can't do anything for him. )
... I... Could we do something when you're... done after this? Nothing specifically, just... Is that fine?
( do u wanna hang out... )
no subject
[ When they’re this close, he doesn’t need to speak too loudly. Everything drops to a murmur like secrets shared over this bonfire warmth between them, even though Mika burns cool and Ginger runs hotter than anyone he knows. ]
Not sure how long it’ll take, but I can come find you - after.
[ In the back of his mind, around the corner of happiness, he knows the time before seeing Mika again will just be frustrating. Frustrating, at best. Impossible and endless at worst. It’s the guilt. Sometimes he can’t - finish - because he needs - a thought of skin, an imagined gasp from a voice he longs to hear. But he feels so damn guilty thinking about Rum like that - and now he has another person to add to that list.
He hates that part of himself so much. Wonders if he weren’t born with an angel face, would all of his ugliness have shown on his face...?
He wishes he could just send himself to Mika in the near future, skip over this depraved need, so that their time together could be seamless.
Still, it’s worth it for Mika. If Mika likes his blood, he can have it all. ]
no subject
... Okay. I'll be waiting.
( He's very good at that.
The gentle beat of Ginger's heart carries in his blood and Mika can nearly taste the sweetness of his blood's scent, and for a moment Ginger seems a window to the world - one he'd grown otherwise indifferent to. Mika will probably find something to worry over, in time; it's how his care expresses. But, right now... he's happy.
It's strange to take happiness into a feeding, he's never done it before. There is at first that familiar press of his teeth against Ginger's skin, and then a punctuated teething... He'd meant to ask if he could do it now, but he forgot, and Ginger's just too appetizing.
A little different than he'd done it before, where he'd sunk down his teeth where he first made contact, he searches - his fangs' points run along the skin, teasing a bite, but not quite committing as his lips trail up along the neck. His breath is warm, warner than he is, his lips licked wet with anticipation - until he seems to hit a point that satisfies him a little further up the neck, with a vibrant pulse.
His fangs press in, and he licks up the blood as it spills down along the neck - slow and intentional, not at all hurried. It'll end soon enough - he takes very little this time. But something about him wants to linger. )
n… sfw
He resists the urge to shiver at first, having forgotten that Mika’s lips were pressed there all along. The first time had been rough and he’d half-expected something similar.
The other half expected something more… clinical. A bite or two, there and done. An impersonal feeding, almost. And Ginger would have sat there and closed his eyes and waited it out.
This is nothing like that.
This feels slow and sensual in the same way his dreams play out. He knows that’s not what Mika is trying to do. Mika is attracted to the blood, as is instinctive - not to Ginger. Mika is savoring his food - but Ginger, he…
He won’t say Mika’s name and he - doesn’t moan, pressing the lines of his mouth shut. But something slips out of him anyway, pleasure-tinged and conquered. Quiet but a louder sound than he ever wants Mika to hear.
His body curls around Mika, fingers clenched, like he wants to crawl in - like he wants to bury his head in the pale crook where neck and shoulder meet. Like he wants to force Mika’s head back, open his mouth with long fingers, and lick his own taste off those canines - those canines -
He feels hot and violent and restless where his body reacts.
He… hopes this ends soon. ]
no subject
It's really hard to keep from drinking more. Harder, still, knowing what he knows by instinct: that the blood tastes its best in the moment of a creature's death. His blood is this rich now - how much better could it be if he kept going? If he drank a little deeper? If he just—
But he likes Ginger. He likes him a lot. And he'd miss him if he went away.
He's just enough of himself to take in Ginger's quiet but indecent sound, feel Ginger - and feel Ginger curl around him tighter - though not fully conscious, it still heats his cheeks, a shiver running through him in faint realization. Hesitating, he's tempted to give into his instinct to linger - to feel, to hear what else he can provoke in Ginger, now that he's here enough to be aware of it.
But Ginger doesn't want this. Right? He recalls this vaguely, in the warm haze of his mind. ... So he withdraws his fangs, fingers tangling in his hair at the back of his head as if to keep him still, and he runs his tongue across the wound, sucking gently at it - for practical reasons as much as thirst, so the blood isn't left to overflow before it can be healed or covered.
Still, he doesn't lift his head when he's done, even if his lips part from the skin. It just means his breath can brush against the tender injury, though, when he does finally speak, voice low: )
... How do you feel?
no subject
… Like a demon. Like I want more.
[ For those two thoughts alone, he doesn’t think he paid in nearly enough blood. He owes Mika so much more for what his imagination came up with, for what replays in his mind. ]
Your lips feel like you’re leaving love marks all over. So…
[ He strokes Mika’s back once - (sorry. I’m so sorry.) - and then loosens his hold. If Mika’s uncomfortable, he can pull back; if he’s uncomfortable, he should.
And if he even thinks about helping, he should run. ]
How… do you feel?
no subject
Mika hesitates where he is, not sure if he should pull away to look at Ginger - does Ginger want that? - but also not sure if Ginger wants him to stay so close, with the state he's in. )
... Good. ( He feels kind of bad saying that when Ginger feels ... good? in a way he's clearly guilty over. But Ginger said no more apologies... ) ... Calm.
( He's absolutely biting back a suggestion to help somehow, again. He'll always be; he can't help it.
He doesn't pull back - not yet. He still isn't sure if he should. He can feel - Ginger's problem, but he doesn't want Ginger to feel like he's making Mika uncomfortable by being what he is.
"Like a demon," he said. Like it's something he should be punished for. )
Would it help if I did it differently next time? I just— I did what felt natural, but...
( Unfortunately vampires are naturally slutty so this was perhaps an oversight, )
no subject
[ That’s what Ginger wants: Mika, well-fed and feeling comfortable enough to - take from Ginger. And he won’t act like he’s not desperate enough to beg Mika to take all the good things he deserves.
‘Next time,’ Mika says. Good, says all parts of Ginger. The angel part that devotedly wants to keep him safe and happy; the demon part that wants to keep him. ]
… I like being close. [ Despite what an absolutely bad idea it is and he knows it. He hasn’t let go; he’s just unlocked the door, left it open a tad, where freedom lies on the other side. ] I think… um… no matter what, it’ll happen with me. Just do it however you want.
And - maybe - I’ll get better at this or figure something out.
[ Might be a good idea to remember that if Rum finds out about this he’ll castrate Ginger for being a pervert and it’ll be problem solved. ]
no subject
( If that's what Ginger likes, then he'll stay. He could be made of molten lava and Mika would resolve to stay anyway. This isn't so bad in comparison, )
... I don't know how much help I'd be... but we can figure out something together. It doesn't just have to be your problem.
( Though, he gets it's embarrassing. He totally gets why Ginger would want to just figure this out on his own. But Also... he can't let it slide without saying that.
He curls his fingers in Ginger's hair idly, trying to ease the awkwardness out of him... be cool so Ginger can be cool... we got this... )
... I know... you don't like this, and - it's... difficult. ( Hard, ) But, um... If it's not weird to say... I think it's nice— um. You know. That... well, you're like this because your parents loved each other a lot, right? ... Despite every difference. Despite everything, I think... you know. At the core of all this is love, right?
( But maybe he's just talking out of his ass and making light of Ginger's suffering... what does he know... He's just thinking - at least it's not a curse, right? It's awkward for sure, but... it came from a place of love. )
no subject
If he saw Mika’s eyes now - would he… would he see them in his dreams…?
( Is he still pretending he won’t see Mika? He’s such a stupid, stupid, stupid fool.)
Mika’s voice brings him back to the present. It’s endearing the way Mika starts and stops, Ginger’s eyes crinkle with soft affection. He’s beginning to recognize that this is Mika, earnest - when he sounds exactly like this. The halting sentences, the fingers threaded in his hair. No one else has ever tried so hard to make Ginger feel better about - Ginger.
He smiles, and it grows and grows with each word. ]
Yeah. [ Soft. ] It’s love.
[ It’ll be love. ]