hupostasis: (monsters are always hungry)
[personal profile] hupostasis
Both parts written in fulfillment of memes. PG-13, suggestive but no smut.

Plot notes for this remain really sketchy and date back as far as 2011. This is not likely to turn into a full-length fic at anytime and was more of a "lol, hey, vampires" romp.

In chronological order:


The smell of bloodlust makes everything easier. Not blood; just the lust for it, permeating the smoke, the beer, almost smothered out by the alcohol heavy on the breaths of the laughing villagers surrounding him, but there and unmistakable - the same way one animal immediately knows another of its kind is near.

There is a reason why they are hired to hunt their own kind, after all.

This bloodlust is not Lelouch's. He recognizes the call of Lelouch's need better than any other and besides Lelouch is too far beyond the reach of his main senses right now. If all goes according to plan Lelouch should still be lying in wait on one of the neighboring rooftops - watching and waiting to give him the signal that he is waiting for.

He closes his eyes, tries to listen through the din of the bar. There are women laughing, too, their voices mingled with the half-drunk guffaws and growled complaints of the men - some giggling, some just as coarse, a sudden shriek or two; nothing of alarm there - but alarm isn't what he's searching for.

He takes a sip from the mug in front of him. There it is. One particular chuckle, feminine and hardly any different from the rest, but inviting, almost luring - somewhere further behind. In the back of the crowd. Near the door. He doesn't turn around.

She laughs again and it is silken and smooth... he can't seem to make out anything else but then the scent of bloodlust that was on the air disappears.

Another swallow of beer. No word from Lelouch.

Suzaku sets the mug down, slides a couple of coins across the counter, and makes for the back door.



“That was reckless. You were supposed to wait for my signal.”

“You said you trusted my judgment if things didn’t go according to plan.”

I did. Lelouch relents, stooping to examine their quarry and aware that there is probably already a mixture of disdain and reluctant praise on his face. Hunter’s bone, in a single clean shot through the heart. Resentful as he sometimes is about it, Suzaku is good at what he does - even a Pureblood like Monica will need more than the natural allure of their scent to break through his resilience.

The smell in the air is of dead blood now. Pure, but nonetheless.

And yet, Lelouch notes grimly as he looks up to observe Suzaku again - eyes less focused, swallowing, long breaths - part of such resilience is likely possible only because of the kind of partnership they have.

I told you you should have waited. He rises, slips a finger into his collar and pulls it down in wordless offering. “Be quick.” Even before the gunshot Suzaku’s earlier scuffle with Monica was far from quiet, which means the townsfolk will be arriving soon enough with the bounty.

All in a night’s work, huh? Suzaku smiles weakly, apologetic as he backs them gently up against the alley wall, then buries his face in Lelouch’s neck with a deep, shuddering breath, and bites.


October 2015

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