[ He lifts his arm enough for one bright eye to slowly blink open and glance down at Mika. He sees a crown of white, wild and curling in stark contrast against his skin, pinks and reds and purples. His hand moves from Mika’s back and, after a moment, settles on his head. He’s sorry.
Arousal is there, its heat pulsing damp against fabric and skin. He’s sorry about this, too. His stomach twists uncomfortably, angrily - but everything feels molten slow now. Too slow.
He counts - then counts again. Tha-thump. A heavy pause. Another thump. Oh.
He’s sorry he has to say: ]
No.
Next time. [ Coaxing fingers card through Mika’s hair, urging him to look up if he can. ] Mika?
He digs his fingers into Ginger like a buoy, exhaling cold - from stress, more than need. The fingers running through his hair helps. His voice helps. The saccharine blood in his stomach helps, too.
Ah, he's awful.
Swallowing, he turns his face up, the picture of guilt. His face - his cheeks, his lips, his mouth, his chin - are all smeared with Ginger's blood, messy in his desperation.
His lips part, but nothing comes out for the first moment. He can't meet Ginger in the eye. )
[ Ah, that’s his blood on Mika’s tongue, all over his face. He can only imagine what his neck looks like. What a mess, the both of them.
And some deep, dark part of him… likes it. The demon called possessiveness. It stirs in his stomach where heat pools.
It’s a good thing Mika’s not looking directly at him because it shows on his face: his own guilt. Guilt mixed with sadness. Even after all the blood loss, the redness on his face, around his eyes, still has that particular hue of want. ]
I wish… [ His voice catches. He clears his sore, sore throat and very carefully does not wince. ] … I wish you didn’t have to feel guilty about something you can’t control.
[ He wants to say, ‘don’t be sorry. But as someone who’s been told don’t be sad, don’t cry - well, it just doesn’t work, does it? If anything, it has always made him feel worse. ]
But - I’ll take that apology for disappearing on me. [ Hurt slips through. ] And for putting yourself in this state. Those are choices.
I can tell you hate it. [ He’s sorry. ] But I… hate the idea of you suffering… when I’m right here.
[ Maybe he should have specified that keeping Mika safe, being on his side, looking after his heart - all of that included this.
His voice lowers, husky with emotion. The first word disappears into the space between them. ]
… was scared for you. Won’t ever hate you, or… your monster.
( It's not a response he expects, any of it - poisoned by his own self-hate, he always expects, or perhaps wants, the worst. Understanding and care wraps around him like a blanket, and he - doesn't think he deserves them. Not at all.
But... Ginger's good for laying it there. He's kind. Warm - no, did he lose too much blood? Is he okay?
His eyes finally flit to meet Ginger's, and though his gaze wavers, it's full of concern. )
... Why me...?
( He wants to say so many things, but that's what leaves his tongue first. He doesn't think he did anything to be worthy of this acceptance - this patience, even though Ginger is clearly hurt by... some things he did (he should resent him for more things, Mika feels). He doesn't think he's worthy of it. But Ginger still...
He shakes his head, pulling back from him. )
No— First, how much did I— We need to find you a healer, I...
( Pulling back is when he finally realizes, ah, um, the residual things he'd taken in stride while feeding - ah, hell, he made that happen, too. It's not Ginger's fault. )
Should I... I can get off— You stay here, or maybe I'll take you to...
[ Right, it’s probably best if they minimize contact. Maybe they shouldn’t touch at all. His hand falls away from Mika’s hair, his other arm drops back over both eyes.
Normally this would be so embarrassing he could die, but he’s bone-tired. Exhaustion wins this time. ]
… No, it’s fine. I’m not human, Mika. [ He doesn’t want to move right now, not for anything. A healer isn’t necessary- probably. He’s just drained (ha), emotionally. A bit physically. ] And, um, I’ll take care of that later, if it… doesn’t go away on its own.
[ So, don’t worry, he means. He’s fine. ]
We’re… the same. That’s why. [ Mika understands the parts of him that no one else does. ] I don’t care about myself much. There’s… a lot… to dislike. But it’s easy to care about you. Maybe that’s also why.
[ It’s a selfish answer. What he can’t do for himself, he can do for Mika. ]
( He... almost regrets the loss of contact, once it stops. But he can't be thinking about himself right now. That isn't fair. It also feels weird to just leave him like this, but also - what else can he do? He's hesitant to stop worrying just because Ginger isn't human - so he doesn't.
He shifts... off him, but tucks up beside him. He should move further away, he should go across the room, with how strong the scent of his blood is, but...
The words come unexpected, because it's hard to see cause for someone to care for you when you don't care for yourself. But it feels strange to hear Ginger speak of himself the way Mika would talk about himself, too. )
... A lot of people are like that.
( Don't smile when they don't want to, he means. He purses his lips, looking at Ginger - the state he's in, because he tried to be there for him, tried to comfort and protect him... like he said he would. It's... )
... I don't... like myself, either. But...
( A beat, and he... gingerly - raises his hand, pressing his palm over the wound, whether or not it's healing - a gesture that means... something even he isn't sure of.
Despite his fever moments before, Mika's body returns to what it was - closer to room temperature, closer to cold. )
... if you can like me... for me, ( care for him in his place, ) I... can like you for you, too.
[ The wound will heal completely over time, one or two days max. He’ll be alright to move around - soon.
Mika’s hand is a soothing balm on Ginger’s skin, which is several degrees hotter due to all the obvious things. His flush hasn’t receded any. His body is so stubborn to cling to this reaction he finds so damn inconvenient.
He never wanted to be like this.
All the parts of him are so… frustrating, but Mika’s words get a small, quiet smile. He already likes Mika just fine. What’s with that if? Even now, Mika helps. ]
Mm. That’s nice. [ The cool hand. ] At least this didn’t hurt, not really. I think I’ll be more prepared next time.
[ For the moment, he keeps his eyes hidden under his arm. He has a lot to think about - hadn’t expected to feel good; hadn’t expected to feel greedy and pleased. It turns his stomach - that small, nasty part of him. And he doesn’t want any of it showing in his eyes. Blue is a terrible color for hiding emotions.
But -
It’s not hiding if he’ll tell Mika about it later. Probably. ]
( "Next time" makes his brows furrow and his gaze drop, following the stain of Ginger's clothes.
He doesn't say anything, immediately. )
... Every night. But... I can manage having just a little bit every three nights. That's how I've been managing until now.
( And clearly he was hoping he could somehow manage longer, though to what end is... unclear, even to him - motivated primarily by self-hate and shame as he was. )
He doesn’t know if he can regenerate enough blood. This is - a very unusual situation? He thinks he’ll be okay since he’s stuck in this half-unsealed state. He can’t say it with any certainty, however. ]
I don’t want you to be hungry either. A third of the blood you need, just to get by? [ He drops his arm and looks at Mika, eyes entreating. ] I’ll visit a healer everyday if I have to - or… we might be able to get another volunteer.
( He really wants to argue, and he looks as much, but it's also difficult to slap away all reasonable approaches to managing his situation when Mika's management method (avoidance) led to this situation to begin with.
He grits his teeth, frustrated - at himself, rather than Ginger. )
... Fine. ( Reluctantly!! ) ... Just a little bit. With a healer on standby. And someone else to help. I'll... We'll... figure out the specifics.
[ His smile turns crooked at the apology. He doesn’t need to say it, but he understands why Mika did it. He’s very familiar with things like avoidance, stalling, running - from his feelings, his own thoughts, his own fears. But he’s always been bad about running from people. ]
I’m sorry, too. I’ll tell you why later. Um, when we’re not like this…?
[ Mentally and physically exhausted, covered in blood, additional demon/vampire side-effects.
He sits up and catches Mika’s hand before it falls from his neck, threading their fingers together like the last time they were here on this couch. ]
Heh, like we’re kids. [ It’s a warm thing, another bit of lingering reassurance he seeks. Mika won’t run again. Ginger will be here to help him. Others will help too, he’s sure.
Mika will be okay.
(… Though it would be nice if Ginger could be the only one.) ]
( He'll agree to shelve whatever that's about for now, but he's Concerned over whatever Ginger thinks he has to apologize for. He doesn't think there's anything. )
... I won't let you forget.
( Kids... If there's anything that gets the twitch of a smile from him, it's that - it doesn't fully form, because there's just... so much weighing on him, but. Ginger's touch helps. His smile helps. His words help a lot.
He squeezes tight. Like when he was a kid. Back when he had his family - his real family, that he...
He squeezes a little tighter. This... feels a little like family, too. )
... Would be nice if we still were.
( For that brief period of his life, things were... nice. Even knowing what he knows now about the truth of what was going on then. Even knowing they were being used. He was oblivious, then. And things were ... okay.
He exhales, soft. He doesn't know if things can be okay now, but they can be better than this, maybe. Having Ginger around... helps. And... he thinks that, even if he might not have the right to - he... does want to protect him. Protect this, whatever this was, that made Ginger want to stay close and warm with him. )
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no subject
Arousal is there, its heat pulsing damp against fabric and skin. He’s sorry about this, too. His stomach twists uncomfortably, angrily - but everything feels molten slow now. Too slow.
He counts - then counts again. Tha-thump. A heavy pause. Another thump. Oh.
He’s sorry he has to say: ]
No.
Next time. [ Coaxing fingers card through Mika’s hair, urging him to look up if he can. ] Mika?
/2
I want more.
no subject
No.
He's not—
He digs his fingers into Ginger like a buoy, exhaling cold - from stress, more than need. The fingers running through his hair helps. His voice helps. The saccharine blood in his stomach helps, too.
Ah, he's awful.
Swallowing, he turns his face up, the picture of guilt. His face - his cheeks, his lips, his mouth, his chin - are all smeared with Ginger's blood, messy in his desperation.
His lips part, but nothing comes out for the first moment. He can't meet Ginger in the eye. )
... Sorry. I'm sorry.
no subject
And some deep, dark part of him… likes it. The demon called possessiveness. It stirs in his stomach where heat pools.
It’s a good thing Mika’s not looking directly at him because it shows on his face: his own guilt. Guilt mixed with sadness. Even after all the blood loss, the redness on his face, around his eyes, still has that particular hue of want. ]
I wish… [ His voice catches. He clears his sore, sore throat and very carefully does not wince. ] … I wish you didn’t have to feel guilty about something you can’t control.
[ He wants to say, ‘don’t be sorry. But as someone who’s been told don’t be sad, don’t cry - well, it just doesn’t work, does it? If anything, it has always made him feel worse. ]
But - I’ll take that apology for disappearing on me. [ Hurt slips through. ] And for putting yourself in this state. Those are choices.
I can tell you hate it. [ He’s sorry. ] But I… hate the idea of you suffering… when I’m right here.
[ Maybe he should have specified that keeping Mika safe, being on his side, looking after his heart - all of that included this.
His voice lowers, husky with emotion. The first word disappears into the space between them. ]
… was scared for you. Won’t ever hate you, or… your monster.
no subject
But... Ginger's good for laying it there. He's kind. Warm - no, did he lose too much blood? Is he okay?
His eyes finally flit to meet Ginger's, and though his gaze wavers, it's full of concern. )
... Why me...?
( He wants to say so many things, but that's what leaves his tongue first. He doesn't think he did anything to be worthy of this acceptance - this patience, even though Ginger is clearly hurt by... some things he did (he should resent him for more things, Mika feels). He doesn't think he's worthy of it. But Ginger still...
He shakes his head, pulling back from him. )
No— First, how much did I— We need to find you a healer, I...
( Pulling back is when he finally realizes, ah, um, the residual things he'd taken in stride while feeding - ah, hell, he made that happen, too. It's not Ginger's fault. )
Should I... I can get off— You stay here, or maybe I'll take you to...
no subject
Normally this would be so embarrassing he could die, but he’s bone-tired. Exhaustion wins this time. ]
… No, it’s fine. I’m not human, Mika. [ He doesn’t want to move right now, not for anything. A healer isn’t necessary- probably. He’s just drained (ha), emotionally. A bit physically. ] And, um, I’ll take care of that later, if it… doesn’t go away on its own.
[ So, don’t worry, he means. He’s fine. ]
We’re… the same. That’s why. [ Mika understands the parts of him that no one else does. ] I don’t care about myself much. There’s… a lot… to dislike. But it’s easy to care about you. Maybe that’s also why.
[ It’s a selfish answer. What he can’t do for himself, he can do for Mika. ]
You don’t smile when you don’t feel like it.
no subject
He shifts... off him, but tucks up beside him. He should move further away, he should go across the room, with how strong the scent of his blood is, but...
The words come unexpected, because it's hard to see cause for someone to care for you when you don't care for yourself. But it feels strange to hear Ginger speak of himself the way Mika would talk about himself, too. )
... A lot of people are like that.
( Don't smile when they don't want to, he means. He purses his lips, looking at Ginger - the state he's in, because he tried to be there for him, tried to comfort and protect him... like he said he would. It's... )
... I don't... like myself, either. But...
( A beat, and he... gingerly - raises his hand, pressing his palm over the wound, whether or not it's healing - a gesture that means... something even he isn't sure of.
Despite his fever moments before, Mika's body returns to what it was - closer to room temperature, closer to cold. )
... if you can like me... for me, ( care for him in his place, ) I... can like you for you, too.
no subject
Mika’s hand is a soothing balm on Ginger’s skin, which is several degrees hotter due to all the obvious things. His flush hasn’t receded any. His body is so stubborn to cling to this reaction he finds so damn inconvenient.
He never wanted to be like this.
All the parts of him are so… frustrating, but Mika’s words get a small, quiet smile. He already likes Mika just fine. What’s with that if? Even now, Mika helps. ]
Mm. That’s nice. [ The cool hand. ] At least this didn’t hurt, not really. I think I’ll be more prepared next time.
[ For the moment, he keeps his eyes hidden under his arm. He has a lot to think about - hadn’t expected to feel good; hadn’t expected to feel greedy and pleased. It turns his stomach - that small, nasty part of him. And he doesn’t want any of it showing in his eyes. Blue is a terrible color for hiding emotions.
But -
It’s not hiding if he’ll tell Mika about it later. Probably. ]
Ah. How often do you need to - eat?
no subject
He doesn't say anything, immediately. )
... Every night. But... I can manage having just a little bit every three nights. That's how I've been managing until now.
( And clearly he was hoping he could somehow manage longer, though to what end is... unclear, even to him - motivated primarily by self-hate and shame as he was. )
no subject
[ Exasperated that’s exhausted but warm. That’s a no from Ginger. ]
Every night, then. Might have to alternate spots.
no subject
No. Even if you're not human, you can't possibly have enough blood in your body to sustain that. It needs time to regenerate.
( Unless... he does...??? But he's worried??? )
And that's even if I was okay with just... hurting you because I'm hungry.
( Which he's not!! )
no subject
[ Some of it clearly did, but the feeding itself…
He doesn’t know if he can regenerate enough blood. This is - a very unusual situation? He thinks he’ll be okay since he’s stuck in this half-unsealed state. He can’t say it with any certainty, however. ]
I don’t want you to be hungry either. A third of the blood you need, just to get by? [ He drops his arm and looks at Mika, eyes entreating. ] I’ll visit a healer everyday if I have to - or… we might be able to get another volunteer.
no subject
He grits his teeth, frustrated - at himself, rather than Ginger. )
... Fine. ( Reluctantly!! ) ... Just a little bit. With a healer on standby. And someone else to help. I'll... We'll... figure out the specifics.
( ...
... His fingers curl into Ginger's skin... )
... Sorry for running away.
no subject
[ His smile turns crooked at the apology. He doesn’t need to say it, but he understands why Mika did it. He’s very familiar with things like avoidance, stalling, running - from his feelings, his own thoughts, his own fears. But he’s always been bad about running from people. ]
I’m sorry, too. I’ll tell you why later. Um, when we’re not like this…?
[ Mentally and physically exhausted, covered in blood, additional demon/vampire side-effects.
He sits up and catches Mika’s hand before it falls from his neck, threading their fingers together like the last time they were here on this couch. ]
Heh, like we’re kids. [ It’s a warm thing, another bit of lingering reassurance he seeks. Mika won’t run again. Ginger will be here to help him. Others will help too, he’s sure.
Mika will be okay.
(… Though it would be nice if Ginger could be the only one.) ]
no subject
... I won't let you forget.
( Kids... If there's anything that gets the twitch of a smile from him, it's that - it doesn't fully form, because there's just... so much weighing on him, but. Ginger's touch helps. His smile helps. His words help a lot.
He squeezes tight. Like when he was a kid. Back when he had his family - his real family, that he...
He squeezes a little tighter. This... feels a little like family, too. )
... Would be nice if we still were.
( For that brief period of his life, things were... nice. Even knowing what he knows now about the truth of what was going on then. Even knowing they were being used. He was oblivious, then. And things were ... okay.
He exhales, soft. He doesn't know if things can be okay now, but they can be better than this, maybe. Having Ginger around... helps. And... he thinks that, even if he might not have the right to - he... does want to protect him. Protect this, whatever this was, that made Ginger want to stay close and warm with him. )