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“Well, you’re back late. Where were you?”
Noé’s words tore through the silence with cool precision, yet Vanitas remained composed in the doorway; he kicked it shut with the heel of his boot and stepped to the armoire at his side.
“Oh? Who wants to know?” said Vanitas, his icy gaze landing on Noé. Shirking off his coat, Noé caught sight of the marking on the man’s neck, red and blossoming along his skin.
He curled deeper into himself, arms clutched across his chest as he leaned against the wall. Just look away… Just look away…
“Noé?”
Don’t look at him, either.
Setting his brow, Vanitas stepped towards his observer, a smile tickling the edge of his lips as he did so. “You look awfully perturbed,” he cooed, each word slicing through Noé’s attempt at maintaining a calm façade.
The pounding in his chest only intensified, and as a flush rose to his cheekbones Noé fidgeted in his clothes. His violet eyes looked anywhere except at the human before him, the human wearing Jeanne’s mark on his neck and a satisfied glint in his eyes.
The pad of his thumb pressed against the edge of Noé’s chin, tilting his gaze down to meet his watchful eyes. Noé felt the hammering in his chest grow louder.
“I…” Noé gulped against his dry throat. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he whispered.
Though he kept a poker face, Vanitas’ countenance softened by a decimal amount. “Wrong? Is there a problem, mon chéri?” At the sight of Noé’s flabbergasted expression, a smirk escaped from beneath his suave demeanor. In a decisive—and perhaps well-practiced—movement, he tugged his collar away from his skin, revealing the scarlet marking to the dim light. “Could it be this?”
Noé felt a chill run through him. His chest was hot and cold all at once, mind clouded with unidentified emotions. He clawed at his clothes and fidgeted his stance, begging his eyes to look away.
Releasing Noé from his spell, Vanitas removed the finger from his chin and covered his neck again. “You know I don’t kiss and tell,” his words enduring in the air as he wagged a gloved finger. “And yet…I want to know why.” His blue eyes pierced into Noé’s. “Why does this bother you so?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, a breath catching in his throat. Why was the air evading him? “I don’t know what I’m feeling anymore.”
Vanitas watched him through half-lidded eyes, deep in thought as Noé continued to sputter in front of him. Then he stepped into him, but instead of cornering the vampire against the wall, he whisked Noé’s hand into his own, placing his other hand on his hips and dragging him to the middle of the room. Instinctually, Noé placed a hand on Vanitas’ shoulder, awkwardly steadying himself from the sudden pull as he was guided into an impromptu dance.
“Maybe we can find out…?” Vanitas mused, his voice vibrating in the air between them.
Their movements were short as they clambered around each other, the pattern choppy and misconstrued as they attempted a waltz in the center of their small hotel room. Murr watched them through mismatched eyes, tail in the air as he huffed; hopping off Vanitas’ bed, the cat swayed as he walked into Noé’s room, unable to watch their sorry excuse for a dance any longer.
Vanitas snickered into his shoulder, and Noé felt a blush welling up from within. “What’s so funny?!”
“It’s nothing, nothing! You’re just so tense, mon chéri—there’s no one here but me,” he said. The tenderness in his voice caught Noé off guard, and he accidentally stepped on his partner’s foot. Vanitas yelped.
“Ah, I’m sorry—”
“Take your shoes off.”
“What?”
Vanitas raised his brows and pouted expectantly. “You take yours off first, and I’ll take off mine so it won’t hurt if we step on each other again,” he explained. Still holding each other, Noé edged his boots off with his heel and kicked them towards the door—they slumped against each other, and Vanitas followed suit. He sighed, a smile crossing his countenance once more. “There, that should help. Why are you even dressed to begin with?”
Noé bit the inside of his lip, averting his eyes as they resumed dancing around each other with a fraction more ease than before. “Well, I…” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t know where you were.”
Gazing up at him with eyes of blue, Vanitas felt a pang in his chest. “You were worried for me.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s nearly two in the morning!”
“Would you have searched for me?”
“Of course! I—”
The words caught in his throat, and the pounding against his chest froze. He looked down at Vanitas, whose countenance cracked and splintered into delicate pieces as something began to seep through, something he couldn’t identify. Reigning in his emotions, Vanitas pulled Noé along with him, their shadows melting together against the wall as they stepped into Noé’s room. Light filtered through the open window, the curtains billowing as a breeze passed through. Their steps found a slow rhythm as the ebb and flow of each other’s breathing guided them into synchronicity.
Their silhouettes adorned the walls with haunting grace, heartbeats serving as a metronome as they swayed in andante. The moonlight illuminated their features as their gait came to a halt beside Noé’s bedframe; they paused, bodies still entwined from their dance. Vanitas looked up at Noé beneath half-moon eyes, his expression dripping with vulnerability as a blush spread across his face. With his arms crossed over the taller vampire’s shoulders, he dug his fingers into the material of his jacket.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, averting his eyes to focus on the large bow that adorned his lapel. “You were waiting for me, for this?”
As he urged his mind to spin a cocktail of words for him to serve, he found that his inner voice was silent. The only sound was the rush of blood echoing in his ear. “You make me do so many things I don’t understand,” Noé whispered, the words slipping past the guard of his tongue.
“I…” Vanitas paused, his formerly cocky attitude subdued by something deep within, something he couldn’t name beyond the burning it elicited in his breast. “I suppose there must be something wrong with me, too.”
Pushing aside Vanitas’ choppy hair with the back of his hand, Noé said, “Maybe ‘wrong’ is the wrong word.”
“Oh? You think so?” Vanitas chuckled through a sardonic smirk, his brows furrowing. “Tell that to Jeanne when she finds out.”
Jeanne.
Noé immediately felt a pang in his chest, the name stinging his ears as they crossed his lips. Searching Vanitas’ countenance for an ounce of answers, Noé found that he only roused more questions within himself—why did this man make him feel so… So…
“…Hungry…”
“What?”
Noé pursed his lips tightly, growing flustered as he heard his own voice say something so unexpected. But was it truly? “I want to—no, nevermind,” he spurted, the words bubbling out before he realized what he was saying. He took a half-step back, but Vanitas—still gripping his shoulders—only stepped closer than before.
“Tell me what you want, Noé,” he whispered, eyes heavy with desire as the unchecked impulses began to overtake him, the power of Noé’s biology overriding Vanitas’ sense of pride.
The pressure of Vanitas’ chest against Noé’s petrified his senses, and in that moment, their hearts hammering against each other, that Noé caught a glimpse of what this feeling might be.
“I want you, Vanitas.”
His eyes widened, the words electrifying his skin. In his chest, his heart grew to a frantic pace as Vanitas caressed his hands over Noé’s shoulders, marking a path to his jaw.
“Then kiss me.”
That was all Noé needed to send him over the edge, pulling Vanitas into his body with an uncontrollable voracity. As their lips collided, the tender sweetness of each other’s repressed feelings bubbled to the surface—and the two plunged into the unknown, exploring it as one.
Vanitas whimpered into Noé’s mouth, his hands searching for something to ground him back to reality as the sensations overtook him. Gripping the fabric of his partner’s coat tightly, his chest heaved as he failed to breathe around the aching of his heart, the heat pulsing through his veins and spreading the fire throughout his body.
Noé’s fingers twisted eagerly in Vanitas’ dark hair, tugging on his scalp as he pulled him deeper, deeper into his embrace, into his skin. He sucked and nipped at the man’s lips, feeling his pulse race as he toyed with him, desires guiding him in the darkness.
Separating briefly, they breathed heavily against each other as they stumbled backward, gasping against tight throats as they tumbled onto Noé’s bed. Vanitas looked up at Noé as he laid on the blankets, the back of his hand resting on his cheek as his chest rose and fell in a disoriented rhythm. Guided by something deep within, Noé climbed on top and straddled Vanitas’ hip with his thighs.
Their glowing features illuminated by the moonbeams, the two men gazed at each other, the blankets billowing beneath their weight as they paused, motionless in the moment. Vanitas looked up at the vampire atop him with pitiful vulnerability, his cheeks flushed and hair unkempt across his face. His lips, already swollen and bruised, begged to be kissed more—and Noé gladly obliged. Cushioned by the soft mattress, Vanitas squirmed beneath Noé’s touch, his blush reddened the more Noé pressed into him; he hummed into his lips, burning at the contact. They parted just long enough for Noé to trail his breath down to Vanitas’ jaw.
“Oh, Noé,” he purred, the man’s voracious tongue finding its way to his exposed clavicle. “Please, taste me.” Vanitas’ begging only increased his need, and as Noé ran his tongue over the spot, he felt the pulse of the human beneath him echo into his body. His eyes flashed crimson and, unable to contain it any longer, Noé sunk his fangs into Vanitas’ flesh.
“Nngh, Noé!” he cried, his hand finding its way into his partner’s snowy hair. He gripped the locks between his fingers like a lifeline, the stinging pull only making Noé sink deeper into his body. The whimpers and moans trickling through Vanitas’ lips hung in the air between them as Noé groaned into his neck, the vibrations sending sparks through his veins.
It was so sweet, even more so than his beloved Tarte Tatin, and each taste only made him desire more. The memories of Vanitas’ life flooded his mind, but the intimacy of the moment proved to be a great distraction against the surge, the visions slipping past him as he sunk deeper into Vanitas; he couldn’t focus on them even if he wanted to. No amount of Archiviste in his veins could keep him from sucking Vanitas’ sugary essence uninterrupted.
As his fangs met the cool night air, Vanitas ran his fingers over the bite Noé left on his body, blood percolating lazily under his touch and adorning his fingertips in red. And he smiled, his blushing features prominent even in the shadows of night. “Mon Dieu,” he sighed, chest heaving as he rode the high. “And I thought it strange that a woman swept me of my feet.” Noé gently raised Vanitas’ hand to his lips, running his tongue along the smears of blood. Vanitas shuddered. “That’s hot.”
“Do you still only love those who don’t love you?”
“Hm?”
The question hung in the air between them as they looked into each other’s eyes as if to uncover their thoughts. Noé cradled Vanitas’ pale hand, running his thumb over his knuckles. Vanitas smirked.
“Love?’ He giggled, the fingers of his free hand occupying themselves over his lips as the word trickled off his tongue. “I thought you didn’t know what that was?”
Noé pressed his lips against the soft back of his hand, feeling his pulse wrack against his skin. “I have it figured out when I’m with you, Vanitas.”
He merely gazed up at him, eating up Noé’s vulnerable expression as though he was the hungry sanguivore. “Noé,” Vanitas began, pushing himself upright as he cupped his hands around the man’s face. “My heart bleeds for you.” Closing the distance between them, their lips brushed as he spoke. “Tu fais partie de moi,” he whispered before locking their lips in a warm kiss. Noé melted into his touch, lowering them back into the bed as they folded into each other, sharing their love with a passion untapped. Their bodies rubbed together and created a friction that ignited a desire within them both.
“Hungry again so soon?” Vanitas hummed, his words dripping with a sardonic playfulness that only fueled Noé further.
“Do you not want to, ma moitié?” Noé paused, leaning back to better examine his face as he spoke. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ears, fingertips lingering on the shell of his ear.
Vanitas flung his arms around Noé’s neck and held him tight.
“I want nothing more, darling.”