#2. see a post on tumblr about vampires stroking the hair of the person they're drinking blood from

[candyriku]

you fell in love with a vampire

Soriku // Vampire Sora, Blood drinking // ~600 words // ao3 link

“C’mon, Riku,” Sora whines, looking up at Riku with those big, dark eyes.

Blue. They were once blue. But now, they’re a different color entirely. They’re such a deep shade of wine-red that they nearly look black these days. It's been years, but Riku still isn't entirely used to Sora looking like this.

Riku sighs and nods. Who is he to say no to Sora? It's been a while since last time, and he's been greedy with Sora's dreams lately. He begins to pull his hair back to expose his neck, but Sora stops him with trembling hands, taking Riku’s silver strands between his eager fingers and bringing the ends to his nose as he inhales the scent. He’ll work himself into a frenzy at this rate. Riku’s seen it happen before.

“Easy,” Riku warns, but Sora has already shed his sensibilities. He reaches up and caresses Riku’s cheek for a moment before ghosting his lips against the hollow of Riku’s throat. Riku shivers in delight, despite himself. Despite knowing what comes next.

Sora’s lips trail up the side of Riku’s neck. Then, a sharp inhale, and an even sharper pain. Riku clenches his fists at first, doing what he can not to jolt away out of instinct, but the sensation of blood draining from his neck is a hypnotic, intoxicating feeling that causes him to relax nearly instantly. They sink to the floor together, and Riku wraps Sora in his arms, practically cradling the vampire as he feeds. 

Sora is humming with pleasure as he drinks, too impatient to take his time and go as slowly as he should. Riku floats through a sea of pink clouds, his mind so distant from his body that he forgets everything for a moment aside from his heartbeat whispering Sora’s name to him.

I love you, Riku thinks, and somehow the essence of that thought becomes a hymn sung by his blood, the melody coursing through his veins and into Sora’s hungry mouth.

Sora pauses for a moment as he understands the wordless song, and Riku distantly feels those lips curve into a smile at his throat. Gently, Sora begins to stroke Riku’s hair as he drinks, and Riku wants to fall into this moment, the pure pleasure of it, the sensation of being nothing more than sand pouring right through Sora’s fingertips. 

He raises his hand, barely aware he is even in control of his movements anymore, and his fingers meet Sora’s chest. His palm finds the absence, the place a beating heart should be, and he wills his own pulse into Sora’s body. Take it. It’s yours.

Sora moves his hand over Riku’s, trapping it against his sternum, and gives it a squeeze. Riku is nothing more than his blood now, flowing into Sora, pulsing with life itself. His sense of his physical form shreds into atoms, so impossibly tiny, and his consciousness pulls away until the world around him is nothing more than a pinprick of light through a distant tunnel. 

Not yet, Sora thinks to him, their minds directly linked now as more and more of Riku’s essence enters Sora’s body. Hold on a little longer for me.

Riku tries, but his body has become a thin membrane that his mind can’t help slipping through. There’s nothing to hold on to here. Time turns in on itself, and Riku watches as the sun rises and sets, rises and sets, over and over across a rapidly shifting horizon. He is falling, he is floating, he is flying, soaring high above his body, the earth, the stars in the sky. 

It’s raining. Or maybe Riku has fallen into the ocean. All he knows is that he suddenly is cold and wet.

“Come back to me,” Sora urges, splashing his face with water again. “I went too far again. I’m sorry. Stay with me.”

Once Riku’s soul returns to his body, he crushes his lips against Sora, tasting the blood – his blood – on Sora’s mouth and chin.

“I’m sorry,” Sora mumbles again. 

Riku shakes his head.

“I love you,” he sighs, still riding the high, his heart floating somewhere above his mind.