🌌 night is recovering

🌌 night is recovering



#sakuatsu | vampire au | happy birthday atsumu your gift is having your blood drank i guess // “Bite me, Omi,” Atsumu whispers. He intends for it to be a demand, but he’s already so breathless from his position in the other’s lap that it comes out sounding more like a request.

It’s not the first time he’s asked like this, and it probably won’t be the last considering how stubborn his boyfriend is. His /vampire/ boyfriend—who still refuses to bite him even as he kisses down the column of Atsumu’s neck, fangs just barely grazing the surface of his skin.

He’s not even pressing in enough to sting, but it raises goosebumps down Atsumu’s nape all the same. “Come on… I know you want to…” he cajoles. It comes out just a tad bit more desperate than Atsumu would have liked though, so he changes tactics.

“What’s the point of datin’ a vampire if you’re not gonna bite me?” he huffs. “It’s been over a month, Omi! What’s the deal? My blood not good enough for ya?” “Shut up,” comes the low rumble by his ear, the hand on his waist tightening by just the slightest amount.

Atsumu chuckles. Maybe he’s been going about this the wrong way. He should’ve known that simply asking was never going to work. Kiyoomi likes the fight—the push and pull between two equally stubborn jerks—too much for that, even if he’d never admit it out loud.

And honestly, Atsumu wouldn’t have it any other way. Why else would he be dating the world’s grumpiest, most antisocial vampire? And ok, he may be a little in love with him too. But they haven’t had that conversation yet—and now probably isn’t the time anyway.

Instead, Atsumu rolls his hip in a slow, deliberate motion, and says rather loudly, “Well, if you’re not going to do it, maybe I should just find someone who will.” Kiyoomi snorts, pulling back to look Atsumu directly in the eye as he tells him, “You’re not going to do that.”

It’s annoying how sure of it he sounds—not a demand or an order but a simple statement of fact. It makes Atsumu wrinkle his nose in indignation. “Who says I won’t?” he asks. “I’m sure plenty of folks out there are dying to get a taste of this.” He swivels his hips for emphasis.

The movement is cut short though, by Kiyoomi bringing his other hand up to grip Atsumu’s waist as well, holding him in place. His eyes are still pitch dark—no signs of that enticing red glow—which means he’s not yet using any of his heightened strength.

And yet, Atsumu feels frozen under that intense gaze all the same, helpless and unable to move as Kiyoomi looks at him like he’s a particularly frustrating crossword puzzle. Atsumu really shouldn’t find it as sexy as he does. He swallows roughly, heart pounding in his chest.

He knows Kiyoomi can hear it. He’s doing his best to look unaffected as they stare each other down, but Atsumu can see his fangs slipping out further than usual and knows he’s closer to getting what he wants tonight than he’s ever been before.

Maybe Kiyoomi knows it too—because he brings their lips together before Atsumu can make any type of snide remark about it. Kissing with Kiyoomi’s fangs out is an entirely new experience. It sends a thrill down Atsumu’s spine—both at the sense of danger but also accomplishment.

His boyfriend is usually so careful to keep his fangs safely tucked away, refusing to allow even the slightest chance of accidentally pricking him despite all the pointed jabs they throw at each other on a daily basis. All bark and no bite, Atsumu likes to tease him.

Except now, Atsumu finds himself secretly hoping those fangs catch on his lip or tongue so they can end this whole song and dance. So he can show his stubborn little vampire boyfriend that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Atsumu certainly isn’t afraid—so why is Kiyoomi?

He has half a mind to just press harder into the kiss and nick himself on purpose. But a much larger part of him wants Kiyoomi to bite him properly—wants to feel the sting of sharp fangs sinking into his skin and the breathtaking ecstasy he’s heard comes after.

It’s a combination of curiosity and an all-consuming desire to cross that one final threshold with someone who he’s already shared so many firsts with. Maybe he’s a sap. Or a masochist. Atsumu wouldn’t mind being called either right now if it gets him what he wants.

Kiyoomi’s hands have moved to his front now, long fingers slipping under the hem of his T-shirt and pressing into the muscles of his abdomen. Atsumu shivers at the touch, grinding down on Kiyoomi’s lap again, but this time unconsciously.

His arms come up to help Kiyoomi out of his shirt, breaking the kiss just long enough to get the piece of clothing over his head. Once it’s gone, Atsumu wraps his arms around Kiyoomi’s bare shoulders in an attempt to tug the two of them even closer together than they already are.

He tries to deepen the kiss as well—but Kiyoomi keeps him at bay, still all too mindful of the unsheathed weapons he holds in his mouth. But Atsumu is so hungry for more, his body practically moving on its own. Kiyoomi isn’t giving him nearly enough of what he needs right now.

How ironic, he thinks, that between the two of them, the human here is thirstier than the vampire. That gives him an idea though, so he breaks the kiss and bends down to place his mouth on Kiyoomi’s neck, kissing the pale skin there one time before nipping at it with his teeth.

Kiyoomi must know what he’s thinking because Atsumu can feel the vibrations of a chuckle under his lips. So he bites harder just to spite him. Kiyoomi responds by grabbing a fistful of Atsumu’s hair with one hand and palming him through the fabric of his pants with the other.

The combined sensations have Atsumu stifling a whine against the soft skin of Kiyoomi’s neck before it can escape through his teeth. Kiyoomi hears it anyway though, because of course he does. His voice rumbles in Atsumu’s ear, annoyingly smug.

“And you think you can handle a bite…” Atsumu shivers. Despite the rumors, vampires have no types of charms or hypnotizing spells to speak of—no way to make a human bend to their will on command—but right now, Atsumu thinks he would do anything if Kiyoomi asked him too.

If only Kiyoomi felt the same about Atsumu practically begging him to bite him. He refuses to give up though—not when he’s this close. Atsumu just needs to find the right buttons to push, the right levers to play with, and this win will be his. So he doubles down.

“I can handle it,” he insists, trailing kisses up the fluttering pulse point on Kiyoomi’s throat, voice barely above a whisper. “You won’t break me… I’ll let you try though.” He slides a hand down to Kiyoomi’s chest, pressing into the muscles there with the pads of his fingers.

Kiyoomi grabs his wrist to stop him, gently tugging on his hair with the other hand still buried in it until Atsumu gets the message and pulls back. Endlessly dark eyes stare back at him.

For a second, Atsumu forgets everything that led them up to this point—nothing else in the world exists except for the feeling of pure, carnal desire stirring in his gut and the molten heat in Kiyoomi’s gaze. And then Kiyoomi opens his mouth, and Atsumu snaps back to reality.

“It’s dangerous, Atsumu,” he sighs. “The skin on your neck is fragile and thin and full of vital blood vessels. I’ve never drank directly from another person before, either. No matter how careful I am, there’s still a chance l’ll fuck up and cause some serious damage.”

Atsumu is halfway through forming a snarky retort about the patronizing tone when something occurs to him. “Who said ya had to bite my neck?” he asks. Kiyoomi freezes. “What?” “I /said/ who says ya have to bite my neck? I got a whole body full of arteries, Omi—take your pick!”

He spreads his arms out wide as he speaks, wiggling his fingers and watching as Kiyoomi’s eyes trace a careful line down his body before zeroing in on a particular, favorite spot of his. A wicked grin spreads across Atsumu’s face. Hook, line, and sinker. He’s finally won.

“Take your pants off and get on the bed,” Kiyoomi suddenly directs without a hint of shame, determined now that he’s made up his mind. And who is Atsumu to refuse him?

He does as he’s told, stripping his shirt off too for good measure and making himself comfortable against Kiyoomi’s collection of pillows.

Kiyoomi is on top of him in an instant, giving him one more languid kiss before sliding down until his face is level with the growing bulge in Atsumu’s boxer briefs. And then Kiyoomi slides down just a little bit more.

He pushes on Atsumu’s knees, spreading them apart for better access. Atsumu goes easily. He tries desperately to keep his pulse in check but it’s a futile effort. After having spent so long waiting for this, it’s suddenly happening so fast. He feels like his head is spinning.

At least Kiyoomi already sounds just as overwhelmed. He’s practically panting as he asks, “Changed your mind yet?” Atsumu grins. “Fuck no.” “Ok then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Kiyoomi answers before drawing his attention back to the inside of Atsumu’s left thigh.

Atsumu finds himself holding his breath as Kiyoomi marks out a spot by licking a short stripe along the soft, tanned skin. He looks up at Atsumu’s face one last time, waits for his fervent nod of approval, and then finally, /finally/, sinks his fangs into the thick muscle.

Atsumu hears himself gasp. It hurts. It really fucking hurts. He has to bite down on his lip to stop himself from shouting. He doesn’t know why he’s so surprised—of course it hurts. He’s basically getting stabbed here.

Kiyoomi must sense his distress because he draws back enough to meet his gaze. Atsumu does his best to not act embarrassed. He’s the one who asked for this after all. He can handle a little pain.

“Breathe through your nose,” Kiyoomi tells him quietly before lowering his head again to lap at the blood now leaking from the wound on Atsumu’s thigh. Atsumu does his best to follow Kiyoomi’s instructions but the cocktail of pain, pain, pleasure, pain makes it hard to focus.

He’s glad Kiyoomi is holding his thigh with such a firm grip, because there’s no way Atsumu would be able to hold still on his own right now.

If he were less drunk on it, he’d tease his boyfriend over the obscene noises he’s making. For some reason, Atsumu had thought this would be a quiet affair, but the sound of Kiyoomi drinking, mixed with Atsumu’s own heavy breathing, feels deafening in the silence of the bedroom.

Contrary to what Kiyoomi might have thought, Atsumu had actually done his research on vampire bites beforehand. He knows that the quality of the experience depends on how good of a relationship the vampire and human have with each other, as well as general compatibility.

So he isn’t the least bit surprised when the pain eventually gives way and all Atsumu is left with is an all-encompassing sense of bliss. He feels as if he’s floating, suspended among the clouds and miles above the earth. He sneaks a hand into Kiyoomi’s hair to ground himself.

“Omi…” he hums, brows pinched together and mouth hanging open. The sounds of drinking pause. “Yeah?” “F-feels good,” Atsumu mumbles unintelligently when he realizes he said that out loud and now Kiyoomi is waiting for an answer. He thinks he might hear a sigh of relief.

“Good—I’m glad.” His tone is so warm. It reminds Atsumu of being wrapped in his favorite blanket on a winter night, a cup of tea in his hands. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard his boyfriend like this before. It’s intoxicating. He feels like he’s discovered something precious.

And then, Kiyoomi picks right back up where he left off—and Atsumu loses track of time. The next coherent thought of his doesn’t come until Kiyoomi has all but finished drinking his fill. He gives the wounds on Atsumu’s thigh a final soothing lick before pulling away completely.

His eyes are glowing a dark red when he looks up this time, fangs and lips stained with blood. It’s the most inhuman Atsumu has ever seen him look and he savors every second of it. “D-done? Already?” he stutters. Kiyoomi nods, wiping at his mouth.

His face is as flushed as Atsumu’s feels right now. He watches in amusement as Kiyoomi tries to collect himself. “We’re gonna need to um… get some sweets in you… to keep your… blood sugar levels up… and all that,” he informs Atsumu between his heavy panting.

Atsumu can’t help the giggle that escapes his mouth in response. He raises a hand to his forehead in mock salute. “Alright, Mister Doctor Sakusa Sir. Anything else?” “Yes, actually. Don’t stand up too fast while your blood pressure is still low. You could faint.”

“You’d catch me though, wouldn’t ya?” Kiyoomi gives him a flat stare. “No, I’d let you crack your skull open on the kitchen tiles.” Atsumu barks out a surprised laugh, still giddy from both the endorphins and the high of winning.

He pulls Kiyoomi up into a chaste, fang free kiss that quickly turns heated again when he realizes they’re both still hard. That’s right. He’d almost forgotten what they’d been doing before all of this.

He hopes Kiyoomi doesn’t mind if he has those sweets a little bit later. There’s something far more pressing he’d rather attend to right now. // end

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