Meg! It's your birthday porn!

[ciircee]

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to Amy too,

It's belated

because I'm stupid,

Happy birthday to you!

Also, mega thanks to Mr. Circe's house-o-computer parts which enabled the posting of this fic from its original media.


Warnings: It's vampires so there is...you know...some blood involved.


Doumeki considered the boy in front of him closely. Watanuki was pale and drawn. "You look hungry."

Rolling his eyes, Watanuki huffed. "Thank you so much for stating the obvious, Mr. Tactful."

He raised his eyebrows slightly. "You are hungry."

Watanuki gave him a very polite 'you're so stupid' look. "So what if I am?"

So what…? "Why don't you eat something?"

"Why don't I eat someone, you mean," Watanuki corrected. "Because that's the funny thing about blood—they don't sell that in the vending machines. You have to get that right from the source."

"But," he started.

"Do you think I'm so stupid that I haven't tried?" Watanuki threw his hands up. "I can't eat food. It has to be blood. Fresh blood. And just how am I supposed to get that? I can't just attack somebody, it's rude. And," he flailed, "with my luck, if I ask somebody it would be the one person who is a fan of vampire-hunter manga and they'll be ready for me! I'm too young to get staked through the heart!" He dropped his arms and put his hands on his hips. "So shut up."

Doumeki looked at Watanuki and then nodded. "Okay," he said, unbuttoning the high collar of his shirt.

"Okay what?" Watanuki asked. He sounded distracted and his eyes, glittering strangely gold, sharpened.

"Eat," Doumeki instructed, stopping once his shirt was half open and tugging it back so that his neck was bare and easily accessible.

Watanuki's stare was almost as physical as a touch, tracing the lines of his neck until Doumeki shivered. "What the hell?" he asked, sounding dark and dangerous and…cranky.

"Eat," he repeated, tilting his head a little more and stepping forward into a splash of moonlight.

"Are you nuts?" Watanuki asked. His slight frame had tensed and he'd backed up a step, moving deeper into the alley's shadows.

"No, but you are if you don't eat," Doumeki countered, taking another step forward. "You've made me lunch before. Think of it as me returning the favor."

Watanuki took another step back. "Do you have any idea what 'making me lunch' involves, you idiot?"

Doumeki was tempted to cover his ears, but didn't. "Not at all," he deadpanned. "I only unbuttoned my shirt because I felt like being half naked with you."

Watanuki puffed up like a cat with deeply offended dignity. "Well button it! Because making me lunch involves me killing you by drinking all your blood."

"I didn't realize you were a glutton."

"What?" Something in Watanuki's eyes snapped and Doumeki had the sudden, clear impression of something dangerous and nasty lunging against its tether.

"I said," Doumeki repeated, "that I didn't realize you were a glutton." He tried to explain the sudden, tight tingling of his nipples as a reaction to the cool night air. But it was August and his heart felt like thunder in his chest.

"Glutton?" Watanuki hissed. "You want to talk about gluttons, Mr. I-make-you-cook-for-me…"

"Then why don't you stop eating before you kill me," Doumeki interrupted him, striving to sound reasonable instead of like somebody whose pants were getting a little tight. "Since you're not a complete pig."

"Oh, my god. I'm should bite you for being an obnoxious ass."

"As long as you're eating," said Doumeki agreeably. He stepped into Watanuki's personal space and the other boy didn't move away. Doumeki shivered again because what he saw in Watanuki's eyes was not a weakening of resolve but the unknown glitter-hot-gold-eyed danger getting stronger than Watanuki's considerable willpower.

"No," Watanuki tried to step back and Doumeki heard the chainlink fence behind him rattle as it blocked his path.

Doumeki barely noticed it because Watanuki had moved into the last bit of moonlight trickling into the alley and he could see the gleam of the elongated canine teeth, starkly white and darkly fascinating. He stepped close and pressed himself against Watanuki. He jerked aside the collar of his shirt. "Do it."

Watanuki growled low in his throat. "I'm not going to do it. You're scared. I can hear your heart racing from here."

"That's not fear," said Doumeki, cupping the back of Watanuki's neck and drawing his head down, sliding his fingers through the soft, black strands of his hair. He canted his hips forward. "It's not fear."

"You…" Watanuki balked, not pulling away but not allowing Doumeki to bring him closer.

"Yes." Doumeki surged up, feeling a bright score of pain on his neck as those sharp teeth slid over his skin.

Watanuki growled deeply again and then Doumeki felt the cool touch of lips as a clean slide of agony cut into him like a blade. But it was an agony wrapped up in a fearsome wash of pleasure, a primordial orgasm of the senses. He arched, every muscle taut as a drawn bow. His mouth fell open even as he desperately swallowed back the mewling cry he could feel building inside of him. The hand not fisted in Watanuki's hair clutched roughly at his shoulder.

And then the teeth were gone, slipping out of his neck and leaving Doumeki feeling achingly empty. "Don't," he gasped, tugging on the handful of hair he held.

"You asked for it," Watanuki snarled. But he didn't move; his mouth hovered over the throbbing place on Doumeki's neck.

Doumeki moaned. The dark beast that drove Watanuki's hunger was leashed only by slipping self-control and Doumeki was taunting it however unintentionally. A tiger by the tail, indeed. "I didn't mean 'don't, stop'," he said, thrusting his hips blindly forward and encountering the obliging jut of Watanuki's hip. "I meant 'don't stop'."

"I wasn't going to until you said 'don't'," said Watanuki waspishly. Before Doumeki could respond, however, Watanuki's mouth closed over the bite and he sucked once, hard.

Dimly Doumeki realized that of course Watanuki hadn't been stopping—he'd had to remove his fangs in order to drink. But it was a useless, stupid revelation in the face of the new pleasure of Watanuki feeding from him. The bite had been brutally sexy, like lightening storms and whip-cracks and dangerous fantasies. The feeding was seductive, like rose petals and wine and soft-voiced demands. Doumeki twisted frantically against Watanuki, hating the soft tease of the velvet shirt but already desperately addicted to the way his gasps mingled with the slick sound of Watanuki's leather pants.

"You taste good," Watanuki whispered as he drew back after some unknown amount of time.

"Must be your influence," Doumeki groaned. His throat felt raw but the rest of him felt shuddery and needy. He moaned quietly to himself as he continued rocking himself against Watanuki's body. "I've never been a good cook before."

"You're so annoying," sighed Watanuki, not sounding upset by that fact.

Doumeki's reply was a startled cry of ecstasy as Watanuki bit him again, fangs piercing just a touch lower on his neck, in a place that was either more sensitive or simply more sensitized than the previous spot. He was completely unprepared for his knees buckling beneath him and he staggered into the fence behind Watanuki with a jarring rattle.

"Doumeki?" Watanuki sounded alarmed.

"I'm okay," he replied automatically. "Just unsteady." He tilted his head, baring his neck again. "It's okay."

But the raging hunger in Watanuki's eyes was being held back by a suspicious frown. "You've lost too much blood."

"It's okay," Doumeki hedged, angling his chin a little more. Behind the zipper of his jeans his cock was jerking painfully.

"What sort of pig do you think I am?" Watanuki asked crossly. Then, more gently, "Thank you. It's enough."

"No, it's not," Doumeki gripped the metal wires of the fence until his hands hurt and pulled himself up as straight as he could. "It's not enough."

"I don't know what you mean," Watanuki said stiffly, his gold eyes darting down to the front of Doumeki's pants, to his neck, before settling on his face.

"Yes, you do." Doumeki lifted one unsteady hand to his neck. What he'd been told was right; vampire wounds did close quickly. He rubbed at the nearly healed marks until he felt a wet heat that could only have been blood. "Don't you want to know what I taste like when I come?" he asked, licking the coppery tang of his blood from his fingers.

Watanuki made a sound of pure fury and the gold of his eyes was suddenly tinged blackish-red with lust and bloodlust as Doumeki found himself crushed back into the unforgiving hold of chain link. "I just know that if you die you'll haunt me forever," Watanuki spat, despair sounding almost as clearly as the anger.

You haunt me now, Doumeki meant to tell him but as he opened his mouth Watanuki bit him, a sharply savage bite followed by an equally violent suction as the fangs were removed. "More," he begged mindlessly instead. "Take more." He could feel the hard length of Watanuki's erection against his thigh and reached for it, swearing crudely as his hands were batted away. "I need more."

"Give me more," Watanuki murmured, his tongue slicking up to glide seductively around the lobe of Doumeki's ear. Doumeki bit his tongue hard and then kissed Watanuki with everything he had left in him. A strong and inexperienced hand curled tight on his erection through the thick layers of denim and Doumeki screamed as the world exploded behind his eyes.






Author's Note: I hate writing porn. Yes I said leather pants. And no, Doumeki isn't dead. He's just unconscious, in a seedy Tokyo back alley, with a rather large and incriminating stain on his pants. Don't worry, Yuuko's about to show up and cluck at him and his new found stupidness.