Work Text:
The apartment was too still.
When Arias pushed the door open, the silence pressed at him immediately. No music, no clinking from the kitchen. Just dark and quiet, the kind of quiet that felt wrong. He frowned, kicking off his boots. Normally, Osora had some sign of life trailing through the space—music humming, the faint scratch of pen against paper, the clicking of a keyboard. But now... nothing.
"Osora?" His voice carried in the emptiness, low and wary. "Are you home?"
Something shifted in the bedroom. Not a voice at first, just the drag of movement. Arias followed, his chest tight with unease.
He found them sitting on the floor beside the bed, knees drawn up, head buried in their arms. The blinds were shut tight. The only light was a faint strip from the streetlamp outside, cutting across their body in pale white light.
"Baby?" Arias stepped forward.
When Osora finally lifted their face, Arias froze.
Their skin was pale, waxy in the streetlight glow. Lips cracked and dry. And their eyes—still the familiar warm brown at the core, but ringed with a deep, unnatural red.
"Shit," Arias muttered, crossing the room before he could stop himself. "What happened—"
"Don't."
The voice was rough, raw, almost unrecognizable. Osora's hand lifted weakly, palm out. "Stay there."
Arias halted, his instincts torn in two: to reach for them, and to listen. He chose the middle ground, grounding himself. "Osora, baby, what's going on?"
Osora turned their face aside, shame tightening every line of their expression. Their chest rose and fell in shallow pulls. When they spoke, the words were low, hoarse, nearly a confession.
"I'm not—like you. I'm not... human. I didn't want you to see me like this." Their voice broke at the edges.
The words landed like a stone in Arias's chest, but he didn't move back. "Not human?" he echoed carefully.
Osora's head lifted again, reluctantly. Now that Arias could really see their face, his breath caught. Their pupils were now swallowed in red, a predator's gaze burning faintly in the dark. And their mouth... their canines had lengthened, sharp and unmistakable.
"They look like..." Arias's throat went dry, "...fangs."
Osora flinched. Their shoulders curled in tighter, defensive, ashamed. "I'm a—"
"Vampire," Arias finished for them.
The silence after was thick enough to choke on. Arias's own heartbeat filled his ears. He expected fear to rise in him, maybe revulsion. But all he felt was a fierce, stubborn pull toward them, like every instinct demanded he stay.
Osora's voice cracked. "I haven't had enough blood. I've been busy, I—I thought I could push it off, but—" Their hands trembled as they pressed them against their knees. "I knew this would happen eventually. You're disgusted. I—"
"No." Arias's voice cut through the spiral. Steady. Simple. "I'm not."
Their head snapped toward him, eyes sharp and glowing.
"You need blood, right?" Arias continued. His tone was calm in a way that seemed to settle the air. "Take mine."
Osora recoiled like he'd struck them. "No. You don't understand—it hurts. I could lose control. I could take too much. I don't want to risk—"
"You won't." Arias's tone left no room for argument.
He moved closer, sinking down to sit in front of them, bringing himself level. He tilted his head just enough, baring the side of his throat. His heartbeat pounded against the skin, steady. "I trust you. More than anyone."
Osora trembled visibly. Their hands fisted in the fabric of their pants, nails digging crescent marks into the fabric. "I can't."
"You can," Arias said. He reached out, took their hand, and squeezed. His warmth anchored them. "I don't understand everything that's happening right now. But if you say you need blood, I have plenty. Please, Osora. Do what you need to do."
The silence stretched until it was unbearable.
Then Osora broke.
With a choked sound, they leaned forward into his arms. Arias wrapped around them instantly, pulling them close against his chest. He could feel them shaking. He tipped his head to the side, offering his neck, steady as stone.
Their breath trembled against his skin. "I'm sorry," they whispered.
The bite came sharp and immediate. Pain flared, white-hot, enough to make Arias hiss—but he held still. His hand tightened around Osora's, grounding them both. The sting dulled quickly, replaced by a strange warmth, a pull that made him lightheaded but not weak. It... didn't feel bad.
Osora clung to him, trembling, drinking in measured draws. Careful. Always careful. They could have torn into him, but they held back, stopping again and again, as though afraid.
When they finally pulled away, their lips were stained dark. Their chest rose and fell hard, and their expression twisted with guilt.
Before Arias could speak, they bent forward, pressing their mouth over the wound. Their tongue swept across the punctures, and the pain ebbed, fading to nothing. Healing.
Osora jerked back, horrified. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I should never have—"
"Stop," Arias said softly. He tipped their chin up until their eyes met. "You didn't hurt me. You're fine. I'm fine."
Even as he spoke, Arias could see it: their eyes fading back to their usual pretty warm brown, the glow dimming. Their skin warmed, darkening back to its usual tone. The fangs receded, leaving only faint traces.
Osora searched his face desperately, looking for cracks of fear or disgust. But there were none. Only steady gold eyes and the same calm warmth as always.
"You... don't care?" Their voice was a whisper.
"I care that you're okay," Arias answered. "That's it."
Their breath hitched. For the first time all night, the tension bled out of their shoulders. Their body leaned into his touch like they couldn't help it.
A beat of quiet passed, broken only by their breathing. Then Arias's mouth curved faintly. "Though I do have one question. Actually... a few."
Osora frowned warily. "...What?"
"Can you actually turn into a bat?"
Osora groaned, dragging a hand down their face.
"I knew you'd ask something stupid."
Arias only smiled, brushing a strand of hair back from their forehead. "Not stupid. Just curious."
"...No," They whispered.
His brows lifted. "Wait, really? Oh, also, how come you don't burn in the sun?"
Osora let out a reluctant laugh, soft and tired, and Arias felt something unclench in his chest at the sound. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of their head, keeping them held tight.
"Next time," he murmured into their hair, "don't wait until it gets this bad. Come to me."
Osora nodded against him.
And in the dark, with the taste of blood still lingering on their tongue, they let themselves believe him.
Arias didn't let go right away. He kept Osora pressed against his chest, feeling the faint tremor still running through their body. He pressed his cheek to their hair, breathing in the scent of their shampoo.
When Osora finally sagged, boneless with exhaustion, Arias slid a hand under their legs and stood. "C'mon," he said quietly. "Bed. You need to rest."
Osora made a weak noise of protest, but he ignored it, laying them gently down.
"I'll be right back," he murmured.
In the bathroom, he washed the faint trace of blood from his neck and checked the mirror. Two faint pink dots, already fading. Nothing more. The proof of Osora's careful restraint.
He changed into his boxers before slipping under the covers, the mattress dipping with his weight.
Osora immediately reached for him, wrapping around him like they were afraid he'd vanish. Arias eased closer, wrapping them in his arms. Their head tucked under his chin perfectly, their breath warm against his bare chest. He rubbed circles over their back, slow and steady, letting the rhythm of touch calm the frantic edge that still clung to them.
"You're okay," he whispered. "I've got you."
Little by little, Osora's body loosened, their breathing evening out. They were half-asleep already when Arias's voice broke the quiet.
"How did you hide this from me for so long?" he asked softly. "We've known each other forever. How did I never notice?"
For a moment, he thought Osora might not answer. Then, in the dark, their voice came faint, a murmur against his chest.
"My family is careful. Always has been. My dad... and my sister too. They're like me."
Arias stilled, his hand pausing mid-circle. "Celia?"
Osora nodded slightly. "Yeah. She hides it better. Always has. Dad taught us early—don't let anyone see, don't slip, keep the hunger under control. And we do. I thought I could handle it tonight, too. But..." They let out a shaky breath. "I didn't want you to ever see me like that."
Arias kissed the top of their head, the gesture as natural as breathing. "You should've trusted me sooner."
"I know." Their voice cracked, raw with guilt. "I was scared. You're the best thing in my life, Arias. I couldn't risk you looking at me differently."
"Hey." He tilted their chin up, made them meet his eyes even in the shadows. "Look at me. I don't care what you are. You're still you. Still mine. That's never changing."
Osora's throat bobbed. Their eyes shone faintly in the dark, but it wasn't hunger this time—it was relief, fragile and quiet. They tucked back against him, curling in close like they wanted to disappear into his warmth.
Arias stroked their hair until their breathing slowed again, soft and even. "Sleep, baby," he murmured.
He held Osora close, feeling the weight of their trust settle between them. Outside, the city hummed in the distance, but here in their small room, Arias lay awake long after Osora's body went still with sleep, guarding them like he always had—only now with the truth between them, and the promise that it would never drive him away.