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A huff. A sigh. A drawn-out groan. Every sound made is overdramatic and done with a flair of gangly limbs. Currently, one of your ‘room mates’ has his face pressed against the kitchen counter, a little too close to your chopping board for your liking but that does little to stop you finishing up your food prep for dinner. A higher pitched groan vibrates the counter and you think this is the seventh time you’ve rolled eyes at his antics. Lately, without much explaining, Moon had become increasingly clingy. His touches were softer and lingered for mere seconds more than they usually did, his smile when you returned home from work had turned from sharp to almost soft. Somehow, he and Sun both, were changing their patterns little by little. The most startling change to you had been the arrival of flushed cheeks and flickering gazes. Now that, you wanted to know more about, but you wouldn’t be the expert of all things Sun and Moon if you charged straight at them with questions, having learnt early on in your partnership such direct questions just led to more questions than answers.
So, while you’d love to demand what Moon’s problem was currently, you instead decided to continue making dinner. As if sensing your growing frustration, the second you turn your gaze to see why he’s gone quiet so suddenly, he’s disappeared somehow, slinking to your other side and blowing hot air against the shell of your ear.
“You ass!” you yell at him, spinning to face him, cheeks a pretty pink of summer afternoon skies.
“Careful with that knife, little bat, wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” His slouched form points towards the knife you had unknowingly pointed towards him. Quickly, you place the offending object on the chopping board, the metal making a clattering noise. You hadn’t even heard the bell on his hat move…
“Geez, what is up with you tonight?” You finally relent. If you had to listen to another whine or groan from this fluffed up fool, you’re going to whack him. Your pout and glare do nothing to him, as usual, the menace just chuckling.
Two steps forward into your space and he proclaims in a low groan “I’m hungry.” You scoff at him, pushing at his shoulders as he attempts to rest his head against your shoulders. Yeah, you’re not falling for that trick again, especially since he told Sun about it and you got caught out a second time.
“You have blood bags in the fridge, just heat one up!” you huff the sentence, pointing at the fridge and you know you’re in deep water when you turn your back to him, as he crowds your space from behind. You forget how often you need to be cautious around these guys. As playful and silly as they could be, they were still predators and you were very much easy prey to them.
“Hmmm… I could, but,” and he draws that last word out, claws snaking to either side of where you’ve placed your hands on the counter “I’m hungry for something a little fresh.” Whether he meant to make your skin prickle with that hiss, you dare not think about, quickly whirling on your feet and thumping a hand on his chest.
“No.”
“But, Y/N- “
“You literally have to wait 3 more days to feed from me.” You cut him off, although, you know you’ve lost from the grin he gives you.
“Can’t wait that long.” He easily answers, as if that’s good enough reason to bite you and suck your blood. You dread the idea of the spilt blood that may happen and how long you’ll have to take to clean it up.
Honestly, it’s a blessing Sun is missing today, you’re not sure you have the energy to deal with two vampires fighting over who gets to feed from you.
“Let’s make it interesting then.” He practically purrs at you after a moments pause. What did that mean? Well, it could mean a whole lot of things, most of which you’re sure will have you squirming in his grip.
“One, two, three…”
Oh, he can not be serious right now.
He's started counting in a slow, dulcet, tone that makes your skin prickle, heat flaring on the tips of your ears. You know he can hear your heartbeat; you know it because the second it jumps around in your chest, his grin splits into a shit eating grin. Fuck. You hate the wink he sends you and hate it even more when butterflies threaten to swarm your gut and pour from your mouth.
where are you even meant to hide?
Your house isn't small, bigger than the ones you'd find down in the town, sure, but it's easy enough to walk the entire threshold in a few minutes. Plus, Sun and Moon have been intermittently staying here for the last, what, year? It felt longer, impossibly so. You think, as you survey your lounge you'd just trotted into, that it's probably a blink of an eye for immortal beings such as them. It probably didn't matter as much to them either.
Would hiding in the cabinet be too easy?
You internally scream at yourself. You’re dealing with literal vampires here. They can hear your heartbeat from a mile off, smell the change in your demeanour and are pretty much impossible to outrun. You were screwed. Flicking a cabinet door shut with a click, your mind races as Moon’s slow counting has now reached 37 seconds. This was ridiculous. You should have just told him to leave you alone, surely, he couldn’t be that hungry yet, there was still 3 days until the allotted feeding time you had scheduled this month. Besides, he’d hadn’t even set a number to count to, you could have less than a minute to hide right now.
You groan outwardly as you pass the staircase. Yeah, no, you’re not going to get yourself cornered upstairs in a bedroom to be eaten. Plus, there’s like, 4 hiding spots tops. You could always jump out a window but you rather like your bones not being broken and a shiver you refuse to give a name runs up your spine at the thought of the boys ‘taking care of you.’ Being bundled under blankets and mercilessly mocked for your fragile, mortal, body isn’t something your keen to relive so soon.
“119…120…ready or not, here I come~” Moon sings in a playful voice, a deep, menacing chuckle, following after.
In your blind panic, you race into the lounge and hop up onto the windowsill, pulling the curtain to the side. This was, in your fine opinion, a shit hiding spot. But really, you didn’t stand much of a chance wherever you hid and he knew that, the brat. With the fading light of dusk and the growing of star speckled night, you hope, pray, that he looks somewhere else first, if only to give you a brief chance to try and escape somewhere else.
“Oh, Y/N…. where are you?” he draws each word out, a taunt that makes you want to grab the nearest object and throw it at him. Even by the sound of his voice, dark and disembodied, you know he’s smiling. Just relishing the joy of having you at his mercy. The drag of his claws scraping against the threshold that borders the kitchen to the lounge has your heart leaping, your ears straining to hear every sound. You know he’s there because you know he’s likely following a scent trail or something (okay, you don’t know the logistics of vampires hunting but you’re working with what information you’ve slowly managed to garner these last few months) and the implications of that make you sweat. In the back of your mind you make a note to try and ask them about it at a later date.
Tap, tap, tap.
Great, now the bastards purposefully making himself known, which means he knows you’re in here somewhere. Honestly, he probably knows exactly where you are and is just dragging this experience out for as long as he can.
Tap, tap, tap.
Your muscles are locked, your hands are covering your mouth, you feel like even breathing is too loud. Your heart is hammering, you can feel it’s beat in your head, the rush of your blood. Your legs ache and you know Moon is standing at the coffee table, mere feet away from your position. His claws tapping on the oak of the table gives him away.
“Come out and play, little mouse,” he croons, sugary sweet and dripping with a bitter promise if he finds you “I just want a little snack, that’s all…” his claws make a scratching noise, and you can clearly see the visible mark in the wood in your mind’s eye. The floorboard creaks, something you know he can easily avoid if wanted, and your hands become clammy.
“Just…”
Shit, he’s going to punce on you any moment, isn’t he?
“A little…”
Fuckfuckfuckfuck. You have one chance to time this right, one chance to get away from that shadow you see looming in the corner of your vision. One chance.
“Nibble!”
You really can’t help the small squeak you let out as you dive from your hiding space, your legs propelling you from the windowsill as two pairs of sharp claws go sailing by your head. You land with a thud and are quickly on your feet and behind the couch in seconds, instincts pushing you to keep running even as you turn to face your assailant. The sight catches you a little off guard.
Moon stands perfectly still, curtains gathered in his arms as his face is trained on you, red eyes boring into yours. He looks…shocked? Surprised? Did he not expect you to get away so easily? Before you can register much more of his expression, his mouth splits into a wide grin, canines glinting in the small light of the room.
“Sneaky little mouse” he muses, turning to face you fully, his eyes predatory and not looking away from you for a second. Pinned under that gaze, you feel the breath in your lungs stutter, “but that won’t work a second time.” He cocks his head to the side, shoulders slouching a little forwards.
“Hah, and what does that make you, a cat?” you stutter out, cringing at how the words come out quieter and smaller than you’d like. Oh, but he only grins the wider, eyes bright with his mirth.
“And what is it that are cats are so famous for again, hmm?” his shoulders slump forwards, knees bent and you know exactly what that means, especially when he goes and wiggles his sharp claws in your direction with a gleeful chuckle. He’s nothing but a blur as he rushes you and you squeal in surprise as you duck and run. Where you’re heading you don’t know, taking the corner into the hallway tightly as you hear the jingle of a bell following closely behind. He really is a jerk! He could catch you anytime he wanted but he doesn’t.
The two of you run a few laps around the house, dodging around tables, vaulting the couch, anything that’ll give you just a second more to not have your blood drained. Moon, for all his gangly limbs and smiles full of pointed teeth, just taunts you relentlessly. He makes feigned attempts at grabbing you, of not taking the corners tightly like yourself but rather some goblin like hobble that makes the bell on his hat jingle obscenely. Honestly, the sight of that nearly has you in a fit of laughter and almost caught.
But, alas, Moon grows tired of your little game of hide and seek turned catch. He waits patiently, like the deadly predator he is, and just as you pass into the hall, your back is pushed roughly into the wall, two clawed hands either side of your head, caging you in. The look in his eyes can only be described as hungry, but not in the sense of needing food, it’s something else. Something…bigger and possibly scarier.
“Caught you, little mouse.” His grin is bright and big, the space between your bodies barely there. You want there to be none. He cranes his neck lower down, eyes level with yours, and you can’t help but glance at his lips, heart beating at your rib cage. Slowly, watching your every movement, he flicks his long, sinuous, to glide it across his teeth.
“I thought I was a little bat?” you huff, tearing your eyes from his lips and those terrible sharp teeth, desperately trying to fight your growing blush. Your entire body felt as though it had been set alight, warmth pooling in your gut and daring to travel lower.
“Little bat, little mouse, both suit you, I think” his grin is wolfish.
“And why’s that?” you counter. What could a mouse and a bat have in common that he’d deem fit you call you them? You will yourself to not move as one of those clawed hands of his pulls a lock of your hair into his hold. His fingers gently caress the strands, eyes lost in thought for a moment, before he releases it. You don’t take a single breath before his mouth is in the crook of your neck, his breath ghosting your skin with a soft exhale.
“Well, it’s quite simple, really…” a single beat of silence and then “because I find both to be rather cute.” and you swear you feel the softest touch of his lips against your pulse point before his warmth is gone and he’s striding away from you.
You hate how much you miss that warmth, how you yearn to have it back, to have it closer and all you can muster in response is a dumb “W-What?”
Moon looks back at you in that all too familiar impish way, “Well, they’re both small and very delicate too.” And just like that, like a spell had been broken, your temper rises, cheeks aflame with embarrassment as you grab a pillow and haul it at his face. He catches it easily, the jerk, but that doesn’t stop you from grabbing a second pillow weapon and threaten to beat him with it.
The rest of the night continues like this and by the time you’re safely tucked up in bed, your thoughts continue to race with what if’s. Tenderly, you touch the spot where his lips had met your skin, the ghost of his touch feeling ever present. Your dreams are filled with tender touches and sharp toothed grins and you awake with one of your own.