Thicker Than Blood
By Sakata Ri Houjun

Here's my little treat for all you Halloween freaks. Been wanting to do a Vampire thing, started out taking place in the book world but then changed it to an AU/reincrnation.
Now on to finish my Kouji and kitsune Chichiri costumes for the big day.

Warning: Light lemon and lots of blood.

~***~

If there's one thing I could thank Suzaku for, it would be the fact that I can still drink alcohol. It has become the only liquid I can imbue other than blood these days. I was warned once by my maker that I would grow weak if I kept thinning my blood with sake. It only took that one time for him to learn to stay the fuck out of my business.

Immortality sucks. I can tell you that right away. There's nothing glamorous or special about watching your closest friends die before your eyes. It hurts worse than a knife through the heart to know that when it's all over you'll be the last.

I tried to harden my heart against their loss, but mortality strikes deep, reminding a creature such as myself how lonesome my existence will be. Makes me wish I hadn't killed my maker.

Makes me want another drink.

Funny thing is that I'm not even thirsty. I had my fill of blood earlier tonight when my hunger compelled me.

That's another thing I'm thankful for, I guess. The ability to walk during the day is a rare gift, one that has enabled me to pass as human for so long.

Chichiri was even fooled.

Perhaps eternity won't be so lonely with him around. If he'll ever forgive me.

Which is why I'm attempting to drink myself into a coma currently.

I didn't mean to do it, really. But damn, I couldn't let him go. He and I have been friends and lovers for so long and I was so scared of losing him like I lost everyone else.

He never saw it coming; neither did I for that matter. I woke up one night, finding his arms around me, protecting me almost.

Me. An immortal creature.

His scarred face glowed, beautiful and innocent in the moonlight. His cerulean hair pillowed around his face, silky and soft. I could see his pulse leaping in his throat, could hear it calling to me.

Before I knew it, the hunger struck, and my fangs were embedded into his pale flesh, his sweet blood filling my mouth, more intoxicating than any wine.

Naturally he awoke and I could feel his heart speed up in panic at the sight that was presented to him. Well, who wouldn't be surprised to find their lover drinking your blood? That fast pulse was laced with fear, pumping more of his heavenly blood into my mouth. I couldn't stop, even when he tried pushing me away.

I was killing him, destroying this beautiful light I had come to cherish in my darkness. I heard him whisper my name, those two syllables telling me that he was so close to death. And that's when I pulled away, watching with shocked eyes the light fading from his soul.

Then I realized what I needed to do to prevent his death. He was too weak to turn his head as I kissed him, sharing the taste of his blood that still stained my lips. I whispered soft apologies before slitting my own wrist and pressing it to his pale lips.

He resisted, single eye glazing over. But somehow he understood, accepting my gift. I cradled his body as he transformed and held him as the fell into an exhausted sleep within my embrace.

When dawn broke, Chichiri was gone. Yet because I made him, shared my blood with him, I know he is nearby, watching me, his heart full of betrayal and anger.

Which is fine with me; I did take his humanity without his permission.

And for months now, though passing of time has become irrevelent to me anymore, I have been traveling. And always, Chichiri is close behind me, out of sight but never far.

My maker passed very little wisdom to me before I destroyed him, none of it on how to truly deal with this. I'd like to think that he shared his blood with me because he was lonely, though we were but strangers when he took me.

Following me to my home proved to be his fatal error, my latent powers dispatching him easily despite his strength.

I guess being a Seishi is a past life has granted me an advantage.

My hand gropes about for another bottle of sake. The need to numb my pain has become greater than my thirst for blood. Would I bleed the clear alcohol should I slash my wrist?

A rather errant thought that is quickly pushed aside upon hearing an approaching set of footsteps. I lift my head, my senses blearily coming alert, eyes focusing through the dark at the presence of...

My eyes widen at the sight. A lean man, hair falling into his angelic face, completely covering half his pale visage. His white shirt is stained dark, the scent of blood thick on the night air, alerting the primal part of myself though I have already fed.

His uncovered eye stares hard at me, gleaming like a blood ruby. I see streaks of crimson on his face now as he draws closer, streams of fresh tears pouring down his beautiful face, tinted with blood.

My heart races at his familiar presence, my soul aching with loneliness, the full weight of eternity burdening me.

"Chichiri..." I whisper, my voice quiet with reverence, tinged with fear at his appearance.

How can such a man be hauntingly beautiful and frightfully repulsive at the same time?

He does not answer of course, merely brushing past as though I weren't there despite the fact that he had glared at me the moment he stepped into the alley.

I feel something wet hit the pavement nearby, my eyes shifting from his lithe form to the dark stains soaking deep near where I kneeled. I gingerly touch them, finding the liquid thicker than tears.

Blood.

"Chichiri!" I cry out, the fear evident now. I turn my whole body towards his retreating back, his gait slow yet clumsily graceful, almost as if he were drunk or tired.

His hands hang loosely at his sides, blood dripping from the fingers of his right hand.

The cerulean-haired vision pauses in his steps, as though acknowledging my presence. I am certain he is able to taste my emotions and thoughts through the link we share, however all I am able to draw from him is a blank.

Chichiri had always been mystically gifted. It would not surprise me if he were blocking me.

"Aren't you proud of what I've become?" he coldly asks, words sending a shiver of fear up my spine. "After all, you are the one who made me."

Chichiri turns his head over his shoulder, his only eye glaring at me with such contempt that I would surely fall dead if I were mortal.

I tremble before him, the full truth and consequences of what I had done to him that night slapping me in the face. His whole body turned to me and I could only stare at his blood-soaked form, like a true creature of evil and nightmares, and yet a god a beauty and desire.

And he hated me.

Without fully realizing it, I had employed my true gift of speed, propelling my body from the alleyway pavement to Chichiri. I wrapped him tightly within my arms. One hand became lost in his soft blue hair as I cradle his head closely, the other embracing his body.

I shake harder as I whisper my apologies over and over, a hundred times infinity. The one man I held so dear to my heart, I did not want to lose him.

I can feel him relax, his head tilting back. The scent of blood that clung to him emboldened me further.

"I love you, so much," I whisper softly into his ear. Those words that had been plaguing my heart, so entranced I had been of his beauty and inner strength the moment I first met him.

Chichiri pulled away, his eye wide. However, he had backed up against a wall, so he could not pull away far.

I closed the distance between us again, covering his lips with my own, sealing my words with a kiss. after a moment, I could feel him returning my kiss. I cup his chin, thumb pulling on his lower lip. However, it would be his tongue that plunged into my mouth, tasting me with such passion that I feel the world tilt entirely.

When I pull away to breathe, my hopeful smile is shattered with his cold glare. Chichiri lifts one hand to wipe at the corner of his mouth.

"So, you think that by confessing your feelings that I'll forgive you?"

I frown at him, my blood heating up in anger at his callous remark. "Don't make my love for you sound like it means nothing, dammit."

My hand caresses his face, but he bats it away, still glaring at me. Apparently my answer hadn't been good enough.

Our eyes stare at each other through the darkness. There was anger, yes. But I could also feel something else making the air between up crackle. A dose of sexual tension and a deep rooted attraction and...

My heart races as I realize I could sense Chichiri's thoughts again. And I could feel his betrayal, his utter sadness with the knowledge that I had deceived him and took his mortality away. But what had hurt him most of all was that in all the time we spent together, he had...

My face softened, tears building in my eyes. "I only wanted to protect you from what I am. I never wanted this for you."

I lean in closer, trapping my beloved fully, granting him no escape from my words. "I tainted your pure soul and I would gladly die a thousand deaths if I could return what I had no right in taking."

Chichiri's eye widens again seconds before I bestow a second kiss, tongue delving deep into his agape mouth, tasting blood and his sweet essence.

My hand pushes up his bloody shirt, fingers sliding along his smooth skin. I've always been aware of the pulse of his blood every time I touched him. the ebb and flow of his heart beat, the precious elixir of life that I could always feel underneath my fingertips.

I find one of Chichiri's nipples, already hard, which I pinch mercilessly. He tears his face away from our kiss, a strained moan escaping through his fangs.
No time is wasted as I push his shirt up with both hands now, revealing his magnificent torso. How many times have I kissed and touched his porcelain skin when he was but a mortal?

As a vampire, his body is hot to the touch, pleasure making his blood boil, his heart pound. I scrape my fangs across one pale nipple, rewarded with a muffled gasp. I lift my eyes to see Chichiri biting into his hand to stifle his cries, blood running down his chin in twin rivulets when his fangs break the skin.

I sink to my knees, need driving me to move quickly. Every inch of his skin I taste, the flavor spiced with his desire. Without words, I can tell he wants this as much as I...perhaps he wants this even more.

For years Chichiri and I grew to know each other as lovers. I know the taste and feel of him by heart. Already his hand is tangled in my hair, pushing me down. Without words he is telling me what he wants. Very swiftly, I release the physical embodiment of his arousal and devour it. His lithe body trembles against my lips as I continue to taste and tease his flesh, muffled whimpers escaping from him.

Already he is nearing the edge and I release him, broken words spilling from lips stained with his own blood.

"Tas...ki... Why...?"

That one word is laced with a thousand meanings. And he means each one of them. All I can do is slide my arms around his bare torso, lightly kissing along his chest, whispering back in reply, "My exsistence meant nothing before you, and it still is meaningless without you."

Now Chichiri is facing the alleyway wall and I am inside him. How different he feels from when had been alive, and yet he is still the same sweet lover I have come to treasure since he called to me that first night we met. My blood sings with such elation, knowing that he and I are joined, not just of flesh but of blood as well. An eternity linked with no escape save for anihlation.

As I thrust harder, his cries urging me on, I kiss at his shoulder, lips caressing the juncture of neck. Every vibration of his pulse calls out to me, even now. Lost in the haze of pleasurable bliss and indescribable love, I plunge my fangs into him, his intoxicating blood filling my mouth once again. The coppery liquid is thick with his passion, something that very nearly sends me reeling with ectasy.

One of my arms is holding him tightly as we move together, the other I lift to his panting mouth. Almost immediately his fangs sink into my wrist, eagerly accepting what I offered.

Such a sensation I have never experienced in all my existence, the giving and taking of flesh and blood. All too soon I climax, his zealous feeding the extra push to send me over the edge. But I am not alone when I tear my lips away from the wound I had made in his enticing throat, screaming in pleasure, for Chichiri joins me, his own orgasm triggered by mine.

I am still inside his body even as he collapses against the wall, slowly sliding to the ground. He is trembling faintly, his eye already closed in exhaustion when I peer at his peaceful face. I can feel his heart slow though it remains strong. I quietly dress my unconscious lover, stroking his face with such tenderness.

It was his very heartbeat that drew me to him, an intangible pull through the stillness of eternity. One night out of a million, under the light of a full moon, I found a cerulean-haired man with a heavenly aroma and such power that urged me forward in boldness.

Initially, I sought to quench my thirst but he turned and smiled at me, perhaps sensing my presence. And such a face of indescribable beauty and a smile that burned away all my loneliness. The scars on his angelic face and body told of a painful past, one he never talked about. Every time I had asked, his smile would falter.

I would have given him anything, even his privacy, so that smile would remain.

I washed myself in his life-giving warmth, his light embracing the darkness of my being whenever we touched. I could almost forget what kind of creature I am.

But now that smile filled with life is gone, replaced by an unyielding mask that is cold and dark, like my soul. I don't love him any less than when we first met, but my heart breaks with the knowledge that it is my fault.

I can no longer remain by his side, it is too painful to bear. I take one last look at his beautiful face, wishing ardently that I could see him smile one last time, before I stand and walk out of the alley way.

I love him, a rare emotion among vampires, or so I had been told. The one who made me never loved me, not the way I love Chichiri. And I have yet to meet another like myself to really test that theory. But since I had been mortal once and still have a heart and soul of a human, then it would be logical that I could love Chichiri.

Suddenly, I hear a faint heartbeat, a fluttering pulse that breaks through the walls of my heavy thoughts. I spin, mind sluggishly becoming alert to my surroundings, albeit a bit to late, for a pain unlike anything I had ever felt pierces through my heart. My vision is clouded with a spray of blood, warm and thick. My eyes widen with horror as I realize this is my own blood.

My body collapses to the ground like a doll whose strings have been cut and I can only stare blankly up at the full moon overhead. I can feel my own pulse, thick and heavy in my throat as blood comes gurgling forth, spilling from my lips. I can feel it, some sort of weapon impaling me through my body. It hurts, every beat of my heart sending jolts of bone-searing agony into every nerve and cell.

Could this be death that mortals fear?

Vaguely, i can hear the fluttering of a heart again, my attacker I realize now. He looms over me, an arrogant smirk on his shadowy face. I can see the movement of his lips, as though he is about to say something, but it is then a flash of crimson light washes over me, bathing my bleeding body in a searing warmth as though I am trapped in the heart of a flame.

It is in that instant that I belive I have been killed, my unholy existance wiped off of the planet by some faceless stranger and now I am being carried off to oblivion.

Which I don't really mind because I at least got to tell Chichiri that I loved him and that I was truly sorry for what I had done.

"Who says I've forgiven you yet?"

My eyes snap open at the familiar tones of my lover's voice, focusing on a scarred face splattered with blood. His long bangs are trailing down, tickling my face as he leans towards me from his kneeling position. Chichiri's hand reaches for something beyond my range of vision and I can feel pressure on the device wedged into my body.

The pain returns again, tearing a yell of agony from me as the cerulean-haired man withdraws implement that had nearly delivered my fatal demise.

Chichiri sighs as he tosses the dripping object away, a metallic clang echoing through the darkened streets. "Honestly, Tasuki. You've been alive for so long and you can't handle pain?"

Without any further words, his hands slip beneath my shoulders, pushing me to a sitting position, the jarring motion making me wince. "It still hurts like hell, Chiri," I mutter.

"Yeah, it does hurt," he replies back, his voice distant. "But, the damage is done and cannot be reversed now."

I turn to look up at him, seeing his face so sad and regretful. He gazes back at me, his hand pressing at my bleeding wound to staunch the flow while my body attempts to heal itself. I place my hands over his, holding them in place, blood coating our skin with a sticky wetness, our mingled blood.

"I won't stop you from killing me if it means that you can be free of me, Chichiri." And I mean it. Death would be preferable than to spending an eternity without his light. I loathed the time spent apart, knowing how much he hated me for what I had done.

He looks away, but not before I catch a glimpse of the pain in his eye. I can feel how much my words hurt him.
"Tasuki, the reason I don't speak of my past is because I've been so afraid. But you let me forget that part of myself that I loathed, let me be free of my pain. But then that night...I..." He sighed softly, shoulders hunched over in defeat. "I let you into my life, trusted you and now...I..."

I can feel it, there in my heart, in his blood that flows through me. I gently tilt his face to look up at me, covering his lips with my own. I can feel his heart beating faster as he returns the kiss. His hand turns within mine, gripping it tightly until his hand trembles. I can only return the hold even as I pull him tighter, afraid of losing the one person in all existance I love.

When we draw away, I can see a sort of wisdom dawning in that remaining eye, something strong and powerful, perhaps the source of the very magic that he wields. I knew then that he had saved me from my assassin, used his power in a way he hadn't before. To protect me.

"I am yours for eternity, Tasuki," he whispers softly. "I love you."

He helps me to my feet, arms encircling me tightly, holding our blood-drenched forms close. I was transformed into a creature of the night hundreds of years ago, have lived to see the rise and fall of nations, the birth and death of many mortals, always set apart from humanity. Chichiri had been born into a world of such torment, his face bearing testimony to that fact. He had lived as a mortal with no one to protect him in a place filled with fear and pain.

When we found each other, he had given me light and I had given him hope. and true to his words, we are for each other unto eternity.