Colour Me Blood Red

I don't know why Niou always ends up being the muscle of the group, but he tends to be the one I like beating people up ...I really don't know why.

I apologize for how badly this chapter sucks, it was giving me grief and I've already rewritten it about 5 times. I give up!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER 37

Yukimura blinked long dark lashes, his violet eyes made even brighter by the dark mascara. He softened his already feminine voice, giving him a breathy mysterious air. His suit was tight around the waist but loose around the chest, and with the combined image of the ruffles along the buttons of the blouse it was impossible to tell what gender he was. Stiletto boots and carefully applied make-up made all the police officers believe he was a woman. That was fine, it was easier than the truth.

He chuckled politely at their advances, claiming his true love was the company. He kept their attention away from the obvious with a gentle smile and a flutter of accentuated eyelashes. The scratches on his face were easily hidden by the skillful play of shadows, or a simple fall of dark hair. Torn clothing was hidden beneath a heavy jacket Yanagi had brought for him. Less questions that way.

“You’re sure, Yukimura-san, that everything is alright?” The officer smiled politely, scribbling the statement onto a small coiled notepad.

“Just a protest gone awry, no harm,” Yukimura smiled back, careful to keep his fangs behind his perfectly painted lips. He kept his hands tucked into the deep recesses of the pockets, hiding injuries as well as the blood stains. He wasn’t the type to keep his hands clean if he could help it.

“And everyone fled?”

Yukimura nodded, “yes, unfortunately.” He tossed his head to get the loose hair out of his eyelashes. “You know how those types are, protesting the rich getting richer, and the poor getting poorer.” He sighed dramatically for effect.

“Did you hear anything about the bomb claim at Sanada-san, and Atobe-san’s public appearance?” The officer asked absent-mindedly.

Yukimura’s eyes flew open, no, he hadn’t. “No, I haven’t heard anything!” Panic welled up in his chest, choking him. Why hadn’t Sanada called out? He had called Niou and Yanagi away from Sanada to protect their lair, but what had that cost Sanada?

“Everything’s okay, the police found nothing. Turns out it was just a prank.”

Yukimura wasn’t convinced. “Thank you for everything officer.”

The Officer bowed and returned to the group of parked cars. Red and blue lights flashed silently,alternately illuminating splashes of the parking lot and side of the road. Police officers milled around, unsure what to do since there was really no work for them to do. Yukimura didn’t want to press charges, and there was no one around for them to arrest. The most they could do was take statements and offer to keep an eye on the building.

“Yukimura.”

The Vampire’s lip turned up in a quick snarl before he was able to compose himself, “Kajimoto-kun. I didn’t see you amongst the Officers.”

The Lieutenant stepped up close to the smaller man, making sure their voices wouldn’t travel, “I always make sure I’m around when it has something to do with your kind.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his team was far enough back, “so what really happened here?”

“Protest,” Yukimura hissed.

“Yeah right,” Kajimoto chuckled. He traced his fingers along Yukimura’s jaw, a small smile twisting his lips. “And I’m to believe everyone just …ran away?”

Yukimura grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip, “I would appreciate if you did not act so informal with me, Lieutenant.”

Kajimoto chuckled and shrugged, “remind me of my position, right. I thought we were past that Yukimura-san? Ah well, besides that, this is the second attack on your lair, and now an attack on Sanada and Atobe. Something’s happening, and I can’t help if you don’t let me know the truth.”

Yukimura dropped a façade and glared at Kajimoto, flashing fangs, “Vampires take care of their own! We do not need help from humans!”

“But you take help from Tezuka? His Hunters were in the crowd when they were attacked, I hear they were all hurt to some extent.”

Yukimura’s eyes widened, “How do you-“

“Lieutenant!”

“Yes! We’re done here!” Kajimoto bowed to Yukimura and jogged back to the waiting squad car.

Yukimura scowled as Kajimoto's well timed exit.


Niou pressed his heel more firmly into the throat of an unfortunate Vampire they had managed to catch. He cocked his head as he listened to the retreating squad cars. Dried blood matted his hair and dried on his face, he scratched at a patch keeping his eye sealed shut.

They were attacked by humans, once again, homeless and teenagers. Yukimura caught them before they managed to get into the building and stopped them before they torched anything. It was a futile and almost useless attack, except they found a lone Vampire in the crowd. Pipes, torches, broken bottles, and a few guns, mostly anything they could pick up out of an alleyway were used. As fast as a Vampire was, even they could be outnumbered. Niou took the brunt of the attack while Yukimura made sure no one was inside. He had been jumped and almost dragged to the ground by a dozen humans. The most he could do was defend himself and maybe toss a couple around, but he wouldn’t draw blood. If someone saw the battle and saw the damage he could do, Sanada would be in trouble. Lead pipes crashed into the back of his head and his spine. A lucky swing to his knee brought him down. A glass bottle was jammed into his side, twisted, and slashed across.

When Yukimura returned he was able to subdue the crowd. His powers washed over the yard, over every Human and Vampire there. The Humans collapsed when he drew his powers back, and the Vampires were disoriented, but gathered themselves quickly enough to move everyone and then hide. The sound of police sirens carried through the quiet night very well.

“Get off me!” The Vampire hissed.

“Keep quiet while all the nice police officers are around.” Niou pressed harder into his neck. The Vampire had kept himself at the edge of the mob, watching. They only caught him because Yukimura’s abilities dropped him.

Yukimura finally returned to the employee parking garage, letting them know the Police had left. He declined their offer of security, but he wouldn’t take the chance that some of them would decide to linger. He wanted everything dealt with inside the building, away from potential prying eyes.

“Now,” He knelt down next to the Vampire’s head, tucking a loose lock of hair behind his ear, “why did you even bother trying to attack my lair with Humans? You should have known by now that I can stop you all with a thought.” He motioned to Niou and he dragged the Vampire to his feet.

The Vampire growled, “I’m not telling you a damn thing!” He was the same height as Niou, which put him a fair bit taller than Yukimura. His black hair was matted from the fight, falling in clumps over his eyes.

Yukimura sighed and shrugged, “just give me an address.”

The Vampire blinked,” Address, for what?”

Yukimura stepped in close to the Vampire, close enough that a deep breath would have made them touch, “so I know where to send your head.”

Sanada rushed into the building, shouting for Yukimura. He threw his jacket to the ground, it was ripped and bloody anyway. He stopped, evening out his breathing, and cast his mind out, searching for the other Vampires. He found them quickly and rushed off to the parking Garage. His heavy foot falls broke through the cryptic silence in the garage and everyone looked up.

“Sanada!” Yukimura rushed to him, throwing his arms around his neck and burying his face in his broad chest, “I heard about the attack!”

Sanada frowned, “how?” He wrapped his arms around Yukimura’s waist, sighing in relief that no one was killed.

“Kajimoto seems to have been sticking his nose in places where it doesn’t belong,” Yukimura hissed quietly. He stepped back from Sanada, letting the Vampire’s hands fall from his waist.

“What else is new,” Sanada rolled his eyes. “Is everything alright here?”

“It is now. They tried to do to us what they did to Atobe. I just happened to be on my way out and caught someone trying to get around back.”

“The Hunters didn’t notice anything?”

“They weren’t sure; Kurobane-kun went to look, but when he didn’t report in I decided to wander out.” Yukimura ran his hands under Sanada’s jacket, holding it aside. “Blood, you’re hurt?”

Sanada brushed his hands back, “nothing I can’t take care of. Most of it’s not mine anyway.”

Yukimura nodded, eying the dark stains on the shirt.

Atobe’s limo pulled into the parking lot and the Hunters doubling as body guards spilled out. They only guessed that Sanada was heading back to his lair, if he wasn't they didn't know where to look next. They weren’t sure what to expect when they got there, and police cars driving away was definitely not it. Kirihara was too panicked and too drained to attempt to search Sanada out; he couldn’t guarantee that it would work, nor that it wouldn’t turn into something dangerous.

Popping his head into the security room Shishido called out for anyone around. No answer.

“Where the fuck is everyone?” Kirihara slipped in behind the desk, leaning on the top so he could get a closer look at the security monitor. The small grey-scale image in the bottom quadrant showed a group of people in the garage. “Parking garage!” he pointed over his head to the exit and the Hunters jogged back out into the night.


Kurobane leaned against a support pillar, sponging drying blood from his face with the bottom of his shirt.

“What happened?” Sanada asked.

Kurobane shrugged, ”I was checking the back way when all of a sudden something hit me on the back of the head!”

“Pipe,” Amane replied, mimicking hitting someone over the head. “They seem to be a bit more organized this time, they didn’t just rush us. There also weren’t as many as they had been when Atobe was attacked.” He shrugged, “they were quiet and kept out of the range of the camera’s …you do know that there are a crazy amount of blind spots, right?”

The rest of Saeki’s team were scattered around the parking garage, leaning on support pillars and their cars. Kurobane had received the worst injuries, the rest were minor scratches and bumps.

The thud of feet at the far end of the parking garage alerted everyone again and they looked up in time to see Kirihara, Yuuta, Kenya, Shishido, and Otori jogging towards them. Acoustics were wonderful things.

“What’s going on?” Kirihara panted, hands on his knees, “we just saw some Leo’s leaving!”

“We were attacked, but with a little subtle suggestion I was able to get them to leave,” Yukimura replied with an elegant shrug.

“Attacked?” Yuuta’s eyes narrowed; he could manipulate people if he wished as well, so he forgave the Vampire for pulling one over on a couple of cops.

“By a group of Humans. It was futile, I subdued them before Niou and Yanagi returned. They were able to help us get everyone away before the Police showed up.” Yukimura glanced apologetically at Sanada.

“Then who’s he?” Kirihara pointed to the Vampire Niou was currently wrestling with.

“Name?” Niou slammed him into the concrete wall, bone cracking on impact.

The Vampire screamed and snarled; his collar had been crushed. “Minami Kentarou.” He tried to force himself back but Niou slammed him into the wall again.

“One of Akutsu’s crew?” Sanada growled.

“I’m not telling you anything, you’ll kill me either way!” Minami snarled over his shoulder. "I know how this shit works!!"

Sanada leaned on the wall beside Minami, arms crossed over his broad chest, “you attacked my lair, and you expect me not to retaliate? Why were we attacked? It wasn’t a serious attack; this was a diversion, what’s going on?” His tone was flippant, not caring either way if the Vampire answered him or not.

Minami spat at the Master and glared, refusing to speak. Sanada sighed, wiping his face. He drove his nails into the soft muscle of Minami’s collar and neck, making the Vampire scream.

“Torture me all you want, I’ve had worse,” he chuckled, breath coming out in heavy pants from the pain.

Sanada tilted his head, lips turning up into a feral grin at the challenge, “we’ll see about that …”

Yanagi quickly jumped in between the Vampires, pushing Sanada back, “he won’t talk either way. And even if he does, there’s no guarantee he will know anything.” The Vampires stood toe to toe, their equal height allowing their eyes to lock. Sanada shifted his weight and Yanagi placed his hand on his chest again, “Genichirou …”

Sanada growled at the other Vampire, slapping his hand away, “then what do you propose?”

“He can help us find their lair. Akutsu moved his once we found it, he can help us find the new one,” Yanagi nodded his head in Minami’s direction.

“If he won’t talk then how will we find it?” Skeptical.

“If we can’t break his mind, call in the Telepath, Shiraishi I believe his name is? If he can’t get it, I do believe the Fae can follow energy?”

Sanada turned to Kenya, “could you get Shiraishi here?”

Kenya nodded and dug out his phone, glaring at the Vampires. He wasn’t completely human, he got that, but he was getting sick and tired of being referred to by his species. "My name is Oshitari Kenya, by the way."

Yukimura returned to Sanada’s side, hands slipping into his jacket to brush along Sanada’s ribs. “Something’s wrong,” his eyes narrowed with worry.

Sanada gently removed Yukimura’s hands from his sides, “the bullets were silver, they didn’t exit, but beyond that I’m fine. I’m just going a little numb.”

“Then all the more reason for us to move ass and take them out!”

Sanada turned to frown at Kirihara, meeting his determined gaze head on. “I can take them out myself.”

Kirihara held open his own suit jacket, showing the shredded and bloody cloth, “I need to get cleaned up as well, so I figured I’d be kind and help you out too, since I do owe you.”

Sanada sighed, learning quickly it was useless to argue, “can you take care of everything here Yukimura?”

Yukimura nodded, eyes lingering on Kirihara, and the look wasn’t friendly.

Sanada kissed him gently just below the ear and followed the little Hunter back into the building. In the elevator down Kirihara busied himself with trying to get his shoulder holster off without hurting himself. He was just glad it clipped to his belt without him having to take the belt off, he wasn’t sure if he was coordinated enough to do both. As bold as he might have been acting, he was feeling remarkably less. The adrenaline rush had worked its way through and he was slowly starting to feel every rip and every tear from the fight. He was soaked in blood and gore and just wanted to go home and sleep.

Sanada grunted in pain as he shifted, trying to find a comfortable way to lean against the side of the elevator. The noise brought memories flooding back to Kirihara, he cursed mentally as everything he was trying not to think about crashed into him. The elevator was clean enough to eat off the floor, but in his minds eye he still saw his blood splattered across the metal floor, his shredded clothing tossed everywhere. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed, this was going to be a long fucking night. His mind was just not up to par tonight. He had blacked out from rage, and it seemed like his little episodes were getting worse. Chitose and his sister were worried, had mentioned something was wrong. Just freaking great; because he didn’t have enough shit to deal with!

The door binged open and Sanada walked out first, leading Kirihara through the main room to the hallway. The first bedroom was open and Kirihara slipped in around him to the bathroom. He rustled around in the cabinet under the sink for the first aid kit. Several Hunters had redecorated since he had last been in there. The kit was a typical drug store throw together; gauze, medical scissors, polysporin, Band-Aids, but since it was a first aid kit used to patch up people ripped apart by supernatural beings, a few extra things had been added.

Sanada sat on the edge of the bed, his right arm completely numb now. He fumbled single handedly with his shirt, managing to get a few buttons undone. He was about to give the shirt a good tug and just say to hell with buttons when Kirihara dropped the first aid on the night stand and pushed his hands away instead.

He inhaled deeply, too tired to really be upset. How long had it been since he had seen Sanada? How long since he had been alone with him. Now, not only were they alone, he was helping him take off his clothes. Something told him he should be panicking, at least be a little upset. His mind couldn’t seem to conjure up more than a slight irritation. He was pissed, pissed that he was here cleaning up the Masters wounds instead of on his way home to his best friend and his bed. He wanted to tell Sanada to go fuck himself and clean up his own wounds, but a sense of duty and a little pinch of guilt kept him there. Sanada HAD saved his life, and was now suffering silver induced nerve damage because of it.

Starting at the button Sanada had given up on Kirihara slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Being that close to him he could really see the shade of Sanada’s skin, he was pale by human standards, yet dark by Vampire. The swell of his chest muscles dipped down to the protrusion of his ribs, and then further to the slight rippling of his stomach. Kirihara slipped his hands under the collar of the shirt and slid if down Sanada’s arms, his fingers followed the edge of his bicep, following the hard curve of muscle. Sanada’s right arm was almost completely useless, numb from the bullet still lodged in his clavicle. The shirt bunched around his wrists and Kirihara had to lift each hand to undo the cuff-link and slide the shirt off. Every movement seemed too intimate, too personal. He turned his back with the excuse of folding the shirt and finding a place to put it. Shouldn’t he be feeling scared? Afraid Sanada may attack him again? What was making him so bold? When did he stop caring? Stop being scared?

He was tired of being tired. Tired of being scared, of being upset, of just not being himself.

The wounds on Sanada’s shoulder and stomach were healed, leaving absolutely no visible signs of there ever having been a bullet wound. All the scratches and gashes he received during the fight were gone as well, leaving behind only dried smears of blood.

Kirihara turned his back to set out the pieces of the first aid. He found a small basin and filled it with warm water; a dark face cloth was submerged in the water. He rested his hands on the edge of the nightstand, something was seriously wrong with his brain. Yet at the same time, he felt satisfied. Fuck Sanada, fuck his hold on him. Fuck the fear he made him feel.

When he turned back Sanada had reopened the wound on his stomach and pulled out the bullet.

“Jesus!” Kirihara jumped in shock. “Don’t do that! That’s what I’m here for!” He held out a small plastic tray for Sanada to drop the bullet into.

Sanada sighed in relief and wiggled his leg. The feeling was slowly returning to his leg, he could now wiggle his toes. Kirihara tried not to laugh at the concentration on Sanada’s face as he focused on his toes.

Catching himself grinning he turned back around, schooling himself. Now he was giggling at the Master, he wasn’t sure if that was a better solution? He went from utter hatred to just not giving a damn. The little bit of his world that had slipped away because of his fear was slowly coming back. He was starting to feel like his old self. Was he in shock from whacking his head? Maybe he needed to go to the hospital after all?

Taking a small scalpel Kirihara cut around where Sanada told him the bullets were lodged. Fresh blood welled up under the blade, trailing down his chest. He traded the scalpel for a pair of tweezers and carefully pulled out the first bullet. Sanada hissed in pain, wincing as the bullet was pulled free. The second bullet had healed into the bone, making it unable for Kirihara to pull it out. Kirihara blinked when Sanada gently eased his hands back. Pressing the heel of his hand to his collar Sanada pushed in, snapping his collar bone again. He inhaled sharply, eyes clenching shut. The sickening crack was enough to make Kirihara pale.

“Hurry up, before it heals again,” Sanada’s voice was clipped from pain.

“Shit, right,” Kirihara pressed the tweezers into the slowly healing hole and withdrew the second bullet. He dropped it onto the tray with the other two and dropped the tweezers and scalpel into the basin of water.

Sanada sighed in relief and let his head drop onto Kirihara’s shoulder. The Hunter jumped, realizing he had wiggled onto the bed with Sanada. His knee was propped between the Vampire’s thighs, giving him balance and putting him closer to be able to see Sanada’s shoulder.

“Just …don’t move for a sec …” Sanada’s voice was muffled by his shirt.

“Yeah …sure …” Kirihara froze, what the hell was Sanada doing? His heart beat so rapidly against his rib cage that he was sure Sanada could feel it. His pulse pounded in his ears and a blush crept up his cheeks.

Sanada’s slow breathing washed down the open collar of his shirt, tickling his chest. The Vampire’s shoulders rose and fell with each breath, the material of his shirt drawing tight across his shoulder blades every time his chest expanded. When he finally sat back the wounds in his shoulder had re-healed. The bones in his shoulder had set properly, leaving only a clean straight line from the base of his throat to the tip of his shoulder.

The protest in his side from tensing up reminded him that he needed to clean and wrap up his own wounds …but he couldn’t seem to find the energy to step away from the Vampire.

Sanada’s hand gently slid over his knee, “don’t touch me!” He was being hypocritical, but with his body already unwilling to get away from Sanada, he feared if the Vampire touched him again he’d be unable to tell him no. “How do you deal with this?” The words had left his mouth without really thinking; there was no way of knowing how Sanada felt when close to him, he wasn’t even sure if his own reaction to being close was a one time thing or not.

Instead of a confused or frustrated glance Sanada smiled slightly, understanding. “Clearly not very well …”

Kirihara blinked, hold on, “you mean this is normal? The need to be near you, even though I hate you. Not wanting to leave, not wanting to tell you no when you go to touch me …” more of that blurting out thing.

“Yes.” Sanada nodded.

A tremor ran through Kirihara’s entire body, Sanada’s hands were hovering near his legs. “I hate you, I really do, but for some reason I …” Sanada’s hands brushed up his thighs and words left him.

“It’s because you share my blood.”

“Does that mean it’s the same with the others you’ve created?” Hey, great, he found his voice!

Sanada nodded, “there is a pull with every Vampire I’ve created, a connection. It’s not always sexual; sometimes it’s just a need to be around one another. That connection also binds our mind; it was how Yukimura could call to Niou. Every flux in our moods, our emotions, everything, is felt by our closest in blood line.”

“Then what’s with the connection or whatever between us?” Kirihara couldn’t fight Sanada’s hands; they had drifted up his thighs and across his backside. He slowly unbuttoned Kirihara’s shirt and he couldn’t fight, for some reason didn’t want to.

“You’re alive. Any typical rule seems to get broken when the blood of the living is thrown in.”

“You’re just doing this because you know I can’t stop you,” Kirihara nodded down at Sanada’s hands, which had fully unbuttoned his shirt.

“You’re injured; we should clean and bandage them.” Sanada pushed the shirt off his shoulders.

Kirihara glanced down; now that his shirt was off he could really see the damage. He would probably need stitches …again. Sanada was right, he did need to look after them, but the look on the Master’s face screamed ulterior motive.

And he couldn’t stop him.

With firm hands on his hips Sanada instructed him to stay where he was. Sanada wiped the dried blood off of him, gentle fingers pressed around the wounds to get a better look at how deep they were. His hands lingered against Kirihara’s sides and he leaned in close so his face was close to the warm curve of his neck. Kirihara bit back a moan as Sanada’s strong hands slid down his sides. His head dropped back, baring the curve of his throat. Soft lips ghosted over the column of his throat and he sighed.

“When you get angry, it’s like a fuel, my blood boils to match yours …” Sanada brushed his mouth to Kirihara’s shoulder.

“My anger?” Then it dawned on him, both times Sanada had hurt him he had been pissed off with him before hand.

“Your anger …it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before, I don’t know how you deal with it.” Sanada shook his head.

Kirihara chuckled, light slowly going on. “That’s why you attacked me, my anger infected you …”

Sanada shrugged, “something like that. I was attracted to you when I met you, but your anger only seemed to amplify everything to the point where …” Sanada turned his head, brows knit together.

Kirihara couldn’t help but smile, the other Vampires thought there was a deeper meaning to why Sanada hurt him, but as it turned out, he was just an 18-year-old boy dealing with things he wasn’t used to. There was probably truth in their assumptions, some thread of reality. He wasn’t in their world, so he didn’t know for sure how the others treated Sanada.

Sanada wrinkled his nose again as he leaned over to grab some gauze and tape. It took Kirihara several second to realize that was Sanada’s version of a pout.

“And now that you’re learning to shield it’s getting worse.”

Kirihara blinked, “worse?”

Sanada taped up the gashes in his shoulder, wrapping the gauze completely around his shoulder and upper arm. “When you get angry you vent, stomp, throw a fit, whatever else to burn it off, right?”

Kirihara nodded, lifting his arms to let Sanada tape the side of his chest. Sanada examined a few of the wounds closer, yep, they would need stitches.

“With you shielding, you’re diverting your energy, but you’re not burning anything off. I’m afraid it’s just building because it has no where to go.” He twisted so he could lean past Kirihara and look into the kit, last he knew someone had left a needle and medical thread in there.

Kirihara frowned, “what are you saying?”

Sanada leaned back so he could look Kirihara in the eye, “that I don’t want to be near you when you finally blow.” He threaded the needle and started to close the deeper wounds.

“What is that-OUCH! Fuck!” Kirihara threw his head back, hands spasming, looking for something to cling to as the needle threaded through the soft skin on his side. Last time he had stitches he was put out. Tears beaded in the corners of his eyes from the pain and he clenched them shut. His hands eventually found Sanada’s shoulders and he drove his nails into the solid muscle.

“Stop wiggling,” Sanada gripped his hips firmly until he stopped thrashing.

“Easy for you to say!” He grit his teeth and tightened his grip on Sanada’s shoulders, breaking skin.

“I’m done,” Sanada tied off the thread and dropped the needle into the wash basin. He taped up the wounds to keep them clean.

Kirihara let out a sigh of relief and sagged in Sanada’s arms. “Sorry for scratching you.” He took his nails out of Sanada’s flesh but couldn’t get the energy to actually take his hands down. He slouched forward, forehead pressed to Sanada’s shoulders, “that fucking hurt by the way.”

The Master pressed himself close, trapping Kirihara’s thigh against him. His mouth found the curve of Kirihara’s jaw, making the Hunter gasp in shock. “I do apologize for that, but I can’t have you bleeding to death.”

“Please don’t,” Kirihara’s head fell back, a soft moan escaping his lips. Moaning made him sound suddenly less convincing …

“You don’t really mean that …” Sanada trailed his mouth down the column of his throat, teeth grazing. His hands slid across Kirihara’s hips to grasp his backside, pulling him completely onto the bed.

Kirihara braced himself on Sanada’s shoulder and allowed himself to be pulled forward. He clenched his eyes shut, Sanada’s body heat and scent washed over him from being so close. He wanted to fight, but part of him was afraid of how Sanada would react, the other part of him couldn’t stop. Yup, needed to get his head checked.

“I hope I don’t have a concussion from bashing my head off the ground!” He tilted his head down, parting his lips.

“Why would you think you have a concussion? You seem fine to me?” Sanada brushed his lips over Kirihara’s.

“Because I really don’t want you to stop …”

Sanada pressed their mouths together with force. The kiss was warm, just this side of aggressive. A whimper crept from Kirihara’s mouth and he mentally slapped himself for getting carried away. It didn’t help when Sanada’s hands gripped his backside and pulled him forward. His hands were still locked into the Master’s broad shoulders but with the closer proximity he let them slide around Sanada’s neck. The movement changed the angle, tilted his head higher and making him the aggressor. He nipped at Sanada’s bottom lip before he could stop himself.

He was getting carried away, his hands and body were acting on their own. Some part of him asked, why was this such a bad thing? He couldn’t really think of an answer.

Because Sanada had raped him?

Knocked him around a couple of times?

Tried to protect him …

Went out of his way to keep those that mattered to him safe …

Sanada’s hands coaxed him further onto his lap, knees sliding out from under him. When their hips pressed together Kirihara cried out and Sanada moaned deep in his throat.

This was bad.

He no longer needed protection from Sanada, he needed protection from himself!

Sanada’s hands moved from his backside to his hips and then to his front, he fumbled blindly with the small leather belt. The tips of Sanada’s fingers brushed over him through the thin material of his boxers and he gasped again, breaking the kiss.

Kirihara dug his fingers into Sanada’s scalp, the Vampire’s hair tangled around his fingers. He panted and gasped as Sanada’s fingers lazily traced his length. Grabbing him suddenly under the thighs Sanada flipped them both over. Kirihara’s back hit the bed, arms falling from around the Master’s neck. He blinked in confusion at the dark eyes above him when Sanada paused. He watched the Hunter carefully, waiting.

Sanada was giving him the option. Push him away, or let him continue.

Kirihara gave up trying to fight, in all truth he was enjoying himself immensely. An impish grin spread across his face, yeah, he was having too much fun.

Sanada chuckled, “should I take this as a good sign?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Kirihara’s grin remained, even though his voice faltered. Was this a good thing? Was some part of him forgiving Sanada? Was Yanagi right, did he just have to deal with his demons? He couldn’t feel rage or anger, no matter how hard he tried, he just felt …calm? He had always wanted Sanada, there was just something about the Vampire that drew him in.

Sanada closed the small distance between the two and kissed him again, just as gently and just as eagerly. Kirihara responded and wrapped his arms back around Sanada’s neck, nails raking across his shoulder blades.

Keeping himself propped on one arm Sanada slid his other across Kirihara’s chest and down his stomach. Kirihara chuckled and flexed as he was accidentally tickled. Sanada’s hand continued down until it slipped inside his slacks. Kirihara moaned deep in his throat and pushed his hips against Sanada’s hand. The Vampire moaned against his mouth, sending a tremor through the Hunters body. His hand snaked around his hips, finding the edge of his underwear and pulling it down enough to slip his hand inside.

Somewhere along the lines Sanada’s pants had come undone, his belt clicked against Kirihara’s. Using his knee he nudged the Hunters thighs apart so he could rest between them.

A single finger slid into him and a sigh escaped Kirihara’s lips.

“Ahem!”

Sanada and Kirihara froze. Oh shit.

Sanada slowly drew away from Kirihara, eyes to the door. Yukimura stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Very clearly NOT impressed.

“Shit,” Kirihara whispered. He slipped out from under Sanada, buckling his pants quickly. Upon finding his shirt he threw it on, buttoning it haphazardly and not caring that half of it was bloody rags.

He felt like the Mistress caught by the Wife.

Sanada sighed audibly and grabbed his shirt off the floor. “Something I can help you with Yukimura?”

Kirihara blinked at the Master, was he purposely ignoring the tension in the room? He now knew what Kamio meant when he bitched about ignorant men. He never thought he’s say that …

“I came to check on you because some of the younger ones are bothered by the amount of blood they smell, and Shishido-kun is looking for him.“ Yukimura’s dark eyes flashed to Kirihara. “We should also deal with that new Vampire before the sun rises.”

The Hunter flinched at the tone of voice when he was addressed; yup, he had over stayed his welcome.

“Excuse me then,” he grabbed the rest of his stuff quickly and slipped out of the room, shoulders tightening on reflex when he had to dart around Yukimura. He threw on his suit jacket and all but ran from the building. He did not want to be on Yukimura’s bad side, but it was a little late for that now. Fuck.

Why the hell did he feel so guilty about getting caught my Yukimura? It wasn’t like he hadn't had sex with Sanada already. Maybe Yukimura didn’t know that little fact? He seemed awfully possessive of the Master. Kirihara ducked his head; oh, he was in deep shit.

The cool night air slapped him in the face as soon as he stepped outside, drawing a startled gasp. When had it gotten so frigging cold?

“Oi!” Shishido waved at him from where he was leaning against the side of the limousine. “I’ve been looking for you, hurry up!”

Kirihara rushed through the parking lot and slipped into the opened door. He gave quick directions to his house and the driver set out. He nestled back against the plush sheets, arm thrown over his face.

What the fuck just happened?