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The expression on Zero’s face is extraordinary.
Kaname has seen fear before, has seen horror and disgust and hatred in a thousand different configurations across ten thousand years, but this particular combination is new. Zero is staring down at where Kaname’s cock is spreading him open, his eyes wide and his lips parted, and the look on his face suggests he’s witnessing something impossible, something his brain refuses to process even as his body is being forced to accommodate it.
Kaname follows his gaze and understands the reaction. His cock has only just breached Zero’s entrance, barely three inches inside, and already Zero’s pussy is stretched obscenely around the intrusion. The pale pink flesh is pulled taut and glistening, his inner walls visible where they’re gripping Kaname’s shaft, and the contrast between the delicate architecture of Zero’s cunt and the thick width forcing it open is frankly obscene.
“It won’t fit,” Zero says, his voice high and strained, and Kaname finds the statement fascinating in its incorrectness. It’s already fitting, the first few inches seated inside him with Zero’s body making room whether he believes it possible or not.
“It will,” Kaname says mildly, and shifts his hips forward another inch.
Zero’s whole body goes rigid. His hands fly up to Kaname’s chest and push, his palms flat and his arms shaking with the effort, but Kaname has him folded nearly in half with his thighs pressed back toward his chest and his legs hooked over Kaname’s arms. The position puts Zero’s cunt on full display, tilted up and open, with no leverage to escape and nowhere to hide.
Kaname’s hands are locked around Zero’s wrists, pinning them above his head, keeping his arms stretched and useless. Zero pulls against the grip and achieves nothing, his fingers curling into fists and his breathing going rapid and shallow.
“Let go,” Zero grits out, his voice shaking. “That’s enough—”
Kaname watches his face instead of responding. The flush has spread down Zero’s throat and across his chest, his skin blotched with color that deepens with each breath. His eyes are still fixed on where Kaname’s cock is splitting him open, pupils blown wide, and there’s something in his expression that suggests he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing, can’t reconcile the visual evidence with what his body is experiencing.
Kaname pushes deeper and watches Zero’s mouth fall open on a sharp inhale. The sound that comes out is high and desperate, caught between a gasp and something closer to a sob, and Zero’s walls clench down hard around the intrusion. The tightness is extraordinary, almost painful, Zero’s body fighting the invasion even as it’s forced to yield.
“Move back,” Zero gasps out, his voice sharp despite the strain. “You’re—it hurts—”
“You’re wet enough,” Kaname observes, which is true. Zero’s cunt is slick and yielding despite the resistance, his body producing wetness that coats Kaname’s cock and eases the slide. The contradiction is visible in how easily Kaname moves forward despite Zero’s protests, how his flesh parts and stretches and takes more even while Zero insists it won’t fit.
“I don’t care,” Zero’s voice breaks on the words. “It’s too big, you need to stop—”
Kaname doesn’t stop. He watches Zero’s face instead, watches the way his expression shifts from horror to something more desperate as another inch slides inside. Zero’s eyes squeeze shut and his head turns to the side, trying to escape, but Kaname’s grip on his wrists keeps him from covering his face or hiding the tears that are starting to gather at the corners of his eyes.
The tears are what capture Kaname’s attention fully. They well up and spill over, tracking down Zero’s temples into his silver hair, and Zero doesn’t seem to notice them at all. His breathing is ragged and his whole body is trembling, his thighs shaking where they’re pressed back against his chest, and the tears just keep falling while Zero stares at the ceiling with his jaw clenched and his throat working.
Kaname finds this unbearably compelling. The combination of Zero’s body accepting him while his mind rebels, the tears he’s not aware of crying, the way his cunt keeps producing wetness even as he begs Kaname to stop. The vulnerability of it, the particular quality of watching someone come undone without their permission, is something Kaname has not experienced in a very long time.
He pushes deeper and Zero makes a sound that’s purely animalistic, his back arching off the bed and his walls clamping down with devastating force. More tears spill down his face and his hands pull desperately at Kaname’s grip, trying to free his wrists, trying to get leverage to push away.
“Get off,” Zero gasps out, and his voice is wrecked but still holds an edge of fury. “Fuck—just get off—”
“You are,” Kaname says, watching the place where his cock disappears into Zero’s body. “You’re taking it right now.”
Zero’s eyes snap open and fix on Kaname’s face, wide and wet and furious. “I hate you,” he says, his voice wrecked, and another tear slides down his temple.
“I know,” Kaname says, and rolls his hips forward to seat himself deeper.
The sound Zero makes is broken and high, his whole body convulsing around the intrusion. His walls flutter and clench frantically, trying to adjust to the width, and more wetness floods out to coat Kaname’s shaft. Kaname can feel every spasm, every desperate attempt Zero’s body makes to accommodate him, and the sensation is exquisite.
He pulls back slightly and watches Zero’s expression shift, watches relief flash across his face for a fraction of a second before Kaname pushes back in deeper than before. Zero’s mouth opens on a silent cry and his legs try to close, try to draw in protectively, but Kaname’s arms keep them spread wide and pinned back.
“Look,” Kaname says, his voice low. “Look at how you’re taking me.”
“No—” Zero tries to turn his head but Kaname shifts his grip, one hand releasing Zero’s wrists to cup his jaw and force his face down, force him to watch where Kaname’s cock is spreading his cunt impossibly wide.
Zero makes a choked sound and fresh tears spill over. His free hand flies to his mouth and presses hard against it, trying to muffle the sounds that keep escaping, and Kaname watches him try to hold himself together while actively falling apart.
The hand over his mouth is shaking. His whole body is shaking, trembling with the effort of taking Kaname’s cock, and when Kaname pushes in another inch Zero’s hand slips and a sob breaks free. The sound is raw and uncontrolled, and Zero claps his hand back over his mouth immediately, his eyes squeezing shut again as more tears track down his face.
Kaname is fascinated by this, by the way Zero is crying without seeming to realize it, by the way his body keeps producing these involuntary responses while his mind tries desperately to maintain control. The tears, the trembling, the wetness coating Kaname’s cock, all of it happening while Zero glares at him with pure hatred, while he hisses out his protests between sobs he’s trying to suppress.
“You’re so small,” Kaname murmurs, the observation purely factual. Zero’s cunt is tight and delicate and struggling visibly with the intrusion, his rim stretched pink and glistening around Kaname’s shaft. “It’s impressive that you’re taking this at all.”
“Shut up,” Zero gasps out from behind his hand. “Don’t—don’t talk—”
Kaname ignores him and pushes deeper. Zero’s back arches and his hand drops from his mouth to claw at the sheets instead, his fingers twisting in the fabric and pulling hard. Another sob tears from his throat and his walls clench down with almost painful force, and Kaname has to pause to let him adjust or risk hurting him properly.
The pause allows Kaname to take inventory. Zero is barely halfway seated on his cock, his body stretched to its limit and still having to accommodate more. His thighs are trembling where they’re pinned back, the muscles jumping with strain. His chest is heaving and his face is wet with tears, his expression caught between horror and something closer to desperation. And his cunt is impossibly slick, wetness dripping down onto the sheets beneath them, his body betraying his protests with every passing second.
“Halfway,” Kaname says, his hand still cupping Zero’s jaw and keeping his face tilted down to watch. “You’re doing well.”
“I don’t want—” Zero’s voice cracks and he has to swallow hard. “I don’t want your praise, you fucking—”
Kaname pushes in again and the words cut off in a high keen. Zero’s free hand shoots up to grab Kaname’s wrist, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise if Kaname were human, and his whole body goes rigid. More tears spill down his face and his breathing has gone ragged and desperate, and when Kaname looks at his expression the vulnerability there is so acute it makes something shift in his chest.
This is what interests him, he realizes. Not the physical sensation, though that is considerable. Not the power dynamic, though that is present. It’s this, the particular quality of watching Zero fight something he can’t win against, the way his body responds while his mind rebels, the tears streaming down his face while he glares at Kaname with undiluted hatred.
He looks ruined already, and Kaname isn’t even fully inside him yet. His silver hair is dark with sweat at the temples where his tears have soaked into it, his lips are bitten red, and his eyes are wide and wet and furious. The combination of his beauty and his distress is doing something to Kaname that he finds both interesting and inconvenient, a pull of attention that makes everything else in the room fade to background noise.
Kaname shifts his grip and releases Zero’s jaw to brace both hands on the backs of his thighs instead, pushing them further back toward his chest and changing the angle. Zero’s eyes go wide and he opens his mouth to protest, but Kaname rolls his hips forward and slides deeper than before.
The sound Zero makes is inhuman. His whole body convulses and his walls clamp down so hard Kaname has to grit his teeth against it, and Zero’s hands fly up to cover his face as a proper sob breaks from his throat. His shoulders shake and his breathing dissolves into gasping hiccups, and when Kaname looks down he can see Zero’s cunt stretched impossibly tight around his cock, can see the way his rim is pulled taut and glistening with the wetness that’s leaked out.
“Almost there,” Kaname says quietly, holding himself mostly still and letting Zero adjust to the depth. “Just a little more.”
Zero makes a broken sound behind his hands and his whole body trembles. His walls are clenching rhythmically around Kaname’s cock, spasming and fluttering, and the sensation is extraordinary. Kaname can feel every involuntary movement, can feel how tight and hot Zero is around him, can feel the way his body is still trying to adjust to being this full.
He pulls Zero’s hands away from his face and pins them above his head again, and Zero’s expression when revealed is devastating. His face is soaked with tears, his eyes red-rimmed and unfocused, his mouth open and gasping. He looks utterly wrecked, and they haven’t even started moving yet.
“I hate you,” Zero chokes out, and it sounds more like a plea than a statement. “I hate you so much—”
“I know,” Kaname says again, and pulls back slowly to watch Zero’s expression shift, to watch the relief and terror chase each other across his face as he realizes this is just beginning.
Kaname withdraws until just the head of his cock remains inside, and the drag of it makes Zero’s whole body shudder. His walls cling to the retreating length like they’re trying to keep it inside despite his protests, and when Kaname pauses at the apex Zero’s eyes flutter closed in something that might be relief or might be desperate anticipation.
Then Kaname pushes back in.
Zero’s eyes squeeze shut immediately, his brows drawing together in a tight furrow as his whole face scrunches up in preparation for the intrusion. The expression is unbearably endearing, the particular quality of someone bracing for impact, and Kaname finds himself slowing the thrust to watch it play out across Zero’s features in real time.
The furrow between Zero’s brows deepens as Kaname slides deeper, his nose wrinkling slightly and his jaw clenching. His hands ball into fists above his head where Kaname has them pinned, and his shoulders hunch inward like he’s trying to make himself smaller, trying to create distance that doesn’t exist. The effort is futile and visible, and Kaname is utterly fascinated by it.
“Don’t,” Zero gasps out without opening his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that—”
Kaname hasn’t said anything, hasn’t changed his expression, but Zero can apparently feel the weight of his attention anyway. The knowledge that he’s being watched makes fresh color bloom across his cheeks and down his throat, and when Kaname bottoms out again Zero makes a sound that’s caught between a sob and a whimper.
His face is still scrunched up, brows furrowed and eyes clenched tight, and there’s something painfully vulnerable about it. He looks young like this, stripped of the careful hostility he wears like armor, reduced to just sensation and the struggle to endure it. Tears are still sliding down his temples in thin streams and his breathing is coming in short gasps, and the combination makes something pull tight in Kaname’s chest.
Kaname pulls back again and this time Zero’s brows draw together even tighter, his whole face tensing in anticipation. His lips press into a thin line and his breath holds, and Kaname watches every micro-adjustment with the focused attention of someone studying something rare.
The thrust in is slow and deliberate, and Zero’s expression shifts incrementally with each inch. The furrow between his brows deepens, his nose scrunches tighter, his mouth opens slightly as his held breath escapes in a sharp exhale. His walls clench down hard around the intrusion and more wetness leaks out, and through it all his eyes stay squeezed shut like he’s trying to block out the reality of what’s happening to his body.
“Look at me,” Kaname says, his voice quiet but firm.
“No,” Zero grits out immediately, his eyes clenching tighter. “Fuck off—”
Kaname releases one of Zero’s wrists and cups his jaw, thumb stroking along his cheekbone. “Open your eyes, Zero.”
“No,” Zero repeats, but his voice wavers. His free hand comes up to push at Kaname’s wrist but the effort is weak, trembling, and when Kaname’s thumb brushes just under his eye Zero’s breath hitches.
Kaname pulls back and thrusts in harder this time, and Zero’s eyes fly open on a sharp cry. The lavender irises are unfocused and wet, pupils blown wide, and for a moment he just stares up at Kaname with an expression of such raw vulnerability that Kaname has to pause to take it in properly.
Zero’s brows are still furrowed, drawn tight over his wide eyes, and fresh tears are welling up and spilling over. His mouth is open and gasping, his bottom lip trembling, and the flush on his face has spread all the way to his ears. He looks completely overwhelmed, like his system is struggling to process too much sensation at once, and the effort to maintain any composure is visibly failing.
“There,” Kaname says softly, his thumb still stroking Zero’s cheekbone. “Much better.”
“I hate you,” Zero whispers, but the words have lost their earlier venom. They sound more like a mantra now, something he’s repeating to himself to maintain some sense of self rather than an actual accusation.
“I know,” Kaname says for the third time, and starts to move with purpose.
The pace is measured and thorough, each thrust deliberate, and Kaname watches Zero’s face transform with every stroke. His brows furrow tight each time Kaname pushes in, his eyes trying to squeeze shut before he remembers he’s supposed to keep them open. The conflict plays out across his expression in rapid succession: the anticipatory flinch, the effort to keep his eyes on Kaname’s face, the moment the sensation becomes too much and his eyes flutter closed anyway, the visible struggle to force them open again.
It’s mesmerizing. Kaname has had countless encounters across his long existence, has seen desire and hatred and fear in every possible configuration, but he’s never watched someone fight themselves this hard, never seen the particular beauty in someone trying desperately to maintain control while their body systematically strips it away.
Zero’s free hand scrabbles at Kaname’s shoulder, nails digging in hard, and his walls clench down with enough force to make Kaname slow slightly. The tightness is extraordinary, almost painful, Zero’s body fighting the intrusion even as it produces more wetness to ease the way.
“That’s enough,” Zero gasps out, his brows drawn so tight they’re nearly meeting in the middle. “You’ve had your fun—”
Kaname shifts the angle slightly and finds the spot that makes Zero’s whole body jerk, his back arching off the bed and a broken sound tearing from his throat. His eyes squeeze shut again and this time Kaname doesn’t correct him, just watches the way his face scrunches up, the furrow between his brows deepening to the point of pain.
“You’re doing well,” Kaname murmurs, and Zero makes a wounded sound.
“Shut up—” His voice breaks and more tears spill over. “Just shut up—”
Kaname thrusts harder and Zero’s words dissolve into a high keen. His hand shoots up from Kaname’s shoulder to cover his mouth, trying to muffle the sounds, but Kaname can still hear them, can still see the way Zero’s face contorts with each stroke. His brows stay furrowed and his eyes stay clenched shut, and tears keep streaming down his temples in a steady flow that he still doesn’t seem aware of.
The crying is what holds Kaname’s attention most acutely. Zero is sobbing quietly behind his hand, his shoulders shaking and his breathing hitching, but his eyes remain closed and his expression suggests he’s focused entirely on the sensation of being filled rather than his own emotional response to it. He’s crying the way someone might sweat, an involuntary physical reaction his conscious mind hasn’t registered yet.
Kaname finds this desperately compelling. The unconscious vulnerability of it, the way Zero’s body is betraying him in ways he isn’t even tracking, the tears mixing with sweat on his face while he bites down on his palm to keep quiet.
He pulls Zero’s hand away from his mouth and pins it back above his head with the other one, and Zero makes a desperate protesting sound. Without the hand to muffle himself his sobs become audible, broken gasping sounds that he can’t control, and his face flushes darker with what Kaname reads as humiliation.
“Let me—” Zero chokes out between sobs. “Move your damn hand—”
“No,” Kaname says simply, and thrusts deeper, working the final inches inside with patient persistence.
Zero’s mouth falls open on a wail and his back arches, his whole body trembling. His brows are furrowed so tight they’re shaking, his eyes clenched shut so hard his whole face is scrunched, and the tears are flowing freely now, soaking into his hair and pooling in the hollows of his collarbones.
“That’s enough,” Zero sobs, and the words are barely intelligible. “You’re done—this is done—”
Kaname feels the resistance give way, feels the last barrier yield, and rolls his hips forward until he’s fully seated. His hips press flush against Zero and the base of his cock finally disappears inside, and Zero’s whole body goes rigid.
The sensation must be overwhelming because Zero’s walls clamp down with brutal force and his back arches off the bed completely. His eyes fly open, wide and unfocused, and his mouth drops open on a silent scream. Kaname watches his expression shift from shock to something else entirely, watches the exact moment Zero realizes what’s happening to his body.
Zero’s walls spasm rhythmically around Kaname’s cock and wetness floods out, more than before, coating Kaname’s pelvis and dripping down onto the sheets. His whole body convulses and his thighs shake where they’re pinned back, and through it all his eyes stay wide and horrified, staring at nothing while his cunt pulses and clenches through an orgasm he clearly didn’t intend to have.
“No—” Zero gasps out when he can breathe again, his face flooding with color that spreads down his throat and across his chest. “I didn’t—that wasn’t—”
Kaname watches him with focused attention, taking in every detail of Zero’s mortification. The flush on his face, the tears still streaming down his temples, the way his walls are still fluttering with aftershocks around Kaname’s cock. He looks devastated and beautiful and completely undone.
“Hey, Zero,” Kaname says, his voice mild and his expression blank. “Do you want to marry me?”
Zero’s eyes snap to his face and for a moment there’s just stunned silence. Then his expression shifts into pure outrage, color blazing across his cheeks. “What the fuck—” His voice is raw and wrecked. “That’s—you can’t just—”
The protest cuts off in a sharp gasp when Kaname’s cock pulses inside him. Zero’s eyes go wide and his walls clench down involuntarily as he feels the hot flood of cum filling him, spreading deep where Kaname is buried to the hilt. The warmth spreads through his pelvis and more keeps coming, pulse after pulse, and Zero’s mouth falls open as the sensation overwhelms him.
“You’re—” Zero’s voice is strangled. “You’re cumming inside—”
Before he can finish the sentence, before he can fully process what’s happening, Kaname’s cock starts to swell. It’s gradual but inexorable, the thickness expanding inside Zero’s already overstretched cunt, and Zero’s breath catches in his throat as his body is forced to accommodate even more.
“Wait—” Zero’s hands push at Kaname’s chest and his walls clench frantically around the swelling intrusion. “What’s—why is it—”
The expansion continues and Zero makes a high desperate sound. His rim stretches tighter around the increasing girth and his walls spasm trying to adjust, but there’s nowhere for the sensation to go, no way to escape it. Kaname is fully seated inside him and getting thicker with each passing second, and Zero’s cunt has no choice but to stretch and take it.
“Pull out—” Zero’s voice breaks and fresh tears spill over. “It’s getting bigger, you need to pull out—”
“I can’t,” Kaname says mildly, which is true. The swelling has locked them together, his cock too thick now to withdraw without causing damage. “Not yet.”
Zero stares up at him with wide horrified eyes, his face soaked with tears and his breathing ragged. “What do you mean you can’t—” His walls clench down hard and he whimpers at the sensation of being stretched even fuller. “How long—”
“A while,” Kaname says, watching Zero’s expression shift from horror to disbelief to something closer to despair.
Zero’s whole body is trembling and his walls keep clenching reflexively around the swollen intrusion, each spasm producing more sensation that makes him gasp and cry harder. The cum Kaname filled him with has nowhere to go, trapped inside by the thick swell at the base of Kaname’s cock, and Zero can clearly feel it spreading and pooling deep in his cunt.
“You’re insane,” Zero chokes out, his voice wrecked. “You’re actually insane—”
“You haven’t answered my question,” Kaname says, his tone conversational despite the circumstances.
Zero stares at him with streaming eyes and flushed cheeks, still impaled on Kaname’s swollen cock, still trembling with aftershocks from an orgasm he didn’t want to have. “I hate you,” he finally says, but the words sound more defeated than angry.
“That wasn’t the question,” Kaname points out, and settles his weight more comfortably, adjusting their position slightly.
The movement makes his cock shift inside Zero and Zero makes a wounded sound, his hands flying up to cover his face again. His walls clench down hard and more tears leak out from behind his palms, and Kaname watches him try to hide while pinned beneath him, stretched wide and full and completely unable to escape.
Kaname finds himself thinking, with the same mild certainty he’s felt about very few things in his long existence, that he’s going to keep this one.
The prefects are gathered near the gates when Kaname passes, and he notices Zero immediately.
It would be difficult not to. Zero is standing slightly apart from the other two, his posture more rigid than usual, and there’s a quality to the way he’s holding himself that suggests discomfort he’s trying to hide. His uniform is immaculate as always, but something about the careful way he’s standing makes it clear that movement isn’t coming easily this morning.
Good, Kaname thinks with mild satisfaction, and allows his gaze to linger.
Life has been interesting since waking in this modern world. He’d expected boredom when Cross first explained the situation, had anticipated the same tedious political maneuvering and careful posturing that had defined his existence ten thousand years ago. The school, the arrangement, the relative he apparently supported, all of it had seemed straightforward enough to navigate with minimal genuine investment.
The girl standing with the prefects must be Yuuki, Kaname realizes, noting the way she’s positioned herself slightly in front of the other two. His relative, the one Cross had been concerned about Zero being near. She looks animated, gesturing as she speaks, and neither of the boys with her seem particularly threatened by her presence.
The reality has proven more compelling than anticipated.
The other boy is what captures Kaname’s attention more fully. He has Zero’s face, the same fine features and silver hair, but everything else about him reads differently. Where Zero carries tension in every line of his body, this one seems looser, more at ease. Where Zero’s eyes are sharp and hostile, this one’s gaze is softer, almost gentle.
The twin, Kaname remembers. Ichiru. The weaker one, according to what little context he’d gathered.
Except he doesn’t look particularly weak standing there. In fact, when Kaname compares them side by side, Ichiru appears marginally broader through the shoulders, his frame filling out his uniform in a way that suggests he hasn’t spent the last several years being systematically destroyed by what was done to him. Zero, by contrast, looks drawn this morning, the careful way he’s holding himself making him seem smaller, more fragile.
The blood arrangement with Zero had seemed especially mundane when Cross first described it. A simple exchange of necessity that required nothing beyond sitting still for a few minutes every five days.
Kaname’s hearing picks up the boy's voice, quiet and concerned. “Are you okay? You look terrible.”
“I’m fine,” Zero says immediately, his tone clipped. “Drop it.”
“You’re walking like something hurts—”
“I said drop it.”
The careful way he’d positioned himself in Kaname’s lap during that first feeding, the rigid efficiency of his movements, the absolute refusal to acknowledge anything beyond the functional transaction. Kaname had found it mildly interesting at first, nothing more than that. Something to observe while he reoriented himself to this new century.
Cross had been concerned about Zero being near Yuuki. Had brought it up carefully, diplomatically, the worry evident in how he’d phrased his questions. Kaname watches the three of them now and sees no particular danger in the configuration. The girl seems capable enough, and Zero’s attention isn’t even on her at the moment.
His relative could handle herself regardless.
Then he’d started testing the boundaries systematically, noting what made Zero’s breath catch, what made color rise in his face. The puzzle of it had been compelling enough to maintain interest between feedings, watching how far he could push before Zero’s control finally fractured.
Ichiru Kiryu's hand comes to rest on Zero’s waist, steadying him, and Kaname’s attention narrows with focused intensity. The touch is familiar, casual, the kind of contact that speaks to long-established intimacy. Zero doesn’t pull away from it the way he pulls away from most touch, just shifts his weight slightly and allows it.
“We’re going to the infirmary,” Ichiru says, not quite making it a question. “You need to lie down.”
“I don’t need—” Zero starts, but Ichiru is already guiding him, hand still resting on his waist.
Three weeks in, Zero had shown up looking defeated. The change had been subtle but unmistakable, the usual hostility still present but underneath it something fragile and exhausted. His hands had shaken when he’d positioned himself in Kaname’s lap, and when Kaname had asked what was wrong Zero had insisted everything was fine with a voice that suggested the opposite.
Kaname had let him feed in silence that night, had kept his hands to himself and watched Zero’s face with focused attention. When Zero had pulled away and tried to stand, Kaname had stopped him with a hand on his wrist.
“What do you need?”
“Nothing,” Zero had said. “I don’t need anything from you.”
But the lie had been transparent. Kaname had looked at him and understood that whatever this was went deeper than just the struggle with being turned.
“An exchange,” Kaname had offered, his voice neutral. “More blood, whenever you need it. More than the standard arrangement.”
Zero’s eyes had narrowed immediately. “In exchange for what?”
“This,” Kaname had said simply, sliding his hand up Zero’s thigh to rest between his legs.
The silence that followed had been profound. Zero had stared at him and Kaname had watched understanding dawn and then horror and then something more complicated. His mouth had opened to refuse, but then his gaze had dropped and his jaw had clenched and when he’d looked back up the desperation had won out.
“Just sex?” Zero had asked, barely above a whisper. “That’s all you want?”
“Yes,” Kaname had said, which had been mostly true at the time.
Zero had been silent for a long moment, hands curled into fists against Kaname’s shoulders. Then he’d said “Fine” in a voice that suggested nothing was fine at all.
Now Kaname watches the younger Kiryu guide Zero away from the gates, hand still resting on his waist, and catalogs the particular quality of irritation rising in his chest. The twin is touching what belongs to Kaname, is offering comfort and support that Zero is accepting, is seeing the evidence of what Kaname did to him last night written in every careful step Zero takes.
The arrangement had started as entertainment. Something to occupy his attention while he decided whether this modern world was worth engaging with properly. But somewhere between that first feeding and last night, between watching Zero walk into his room with careful hostility and watching him fall apart beneath him, the calculation had shifted.
This isn’t entertainment anymore.
Yuuki says something to the departing twins and waves, and Kaname notes absently that she doesn’t seem concerned about whatever is wrong with Zero. The girl turns and notices him standing there, her expression shifting into something more formal, more careful. She bows slightly and Kaname acknowledges it with a small nod, his attention still tracking Zero’s retreating form.
The younger's hand is still on Zero’s waist. Zero is still allowing it, leaning into the support slightly in a way that suggests trust, familiarity, the particular ease of someone who doesn’t have to maintain their guard.
Kaname thinks about Zero’s face last night, soaked with tears and flushed dark, his voice wrecked as he sobbed through orgasm after orgasm. Thinks about the way his walls had clenched around Kaname’s swollen cock, the way he’d trembled and cried and taken everything Kaname gave him. Thinks about how he’d looked afterward, boneless and exhausted and marked thoroughly inside and out.
The twin doesn’t know about any of that. Doesn’t know what Zero sounds like when he’s being taken apart, doesn’t know how he looks with his face pressed into the sheets and his cunt stretched obscenely wide, doesn’t know the particular quality of his desperation when he’s begging for something he won’t name.
The hand on Zero’s waist is still there, steady and supportive, and Kaname makes a decision with the same mild certainty he’s felt about very few things in his long existence.
He’s going to have to do something about the twin.
Zero is pale in a way that isn’t worrisome.
Kaname traces his tongue through the mess between Zero’s legs and catalogues this observation with the same focused attention he brings to everything else about him. Most vampires carry their pallor like evidence of what they are, skin gone bloodless and cold, the particular waxen quality of something preserved rather than living. It’s especially pronounced in turned vampires, in those who didn’t ask for what they became, their complexion taking on the drained-out look of meat left too long in cold storage.
Zero isn’t like that. His skin is pale but it has warmth underneath it, color that rises easily to the surface when he’s embarrassed or angry or, as he is now, overwhelmed. The flush spreads across his cheeks and down his throat and across his chest in patterns Kaname has started to recognize, blooming bright and immediate in response to stimulus. It’s strange for a vampire, this visible circulation, this evidence of blood moving close to the surface.
It’s one of the things that makes him interesting.
Kaname’s tongue circles Zero’s clit and he feels the immediate response, Zero’s thighs trying to close before Kaname’s hands push them back open and pin them wide. The bud is swollen and sensitive from earlier and the contact makes Zero’s whole body jerk, a sharp inhale catching in his throat.
“That’s enough—” Zero’s voice is already wrecked, thin and desperate. “Get off me—”
Kaname ignores him and seals his lips around the swollen flesh, sucking gently. Zero makes a high wounded sound and his hands fly down to Kaname’s hair, fingers twisting in it and pulling hard. The grip would hurt if Kaname cared about such things, but he doesn’t, so he just keeps his mouth where it is and works Zero’s clit with focused enthusiasm.
The blood arrangement had revealed the first peculiarity about Zero’s physiology. His blood tastes wrong, putrid in a way that suggests contamination, the particular foulness of something turning rotten from the inside out. It’s the mark of his turning, Kaname understands, the corruption spreading through him that will eventually reduce him to a mindless Level E if left unchecked. Drinking from Zero directly would be unpleasant at best, toxic at worst.
His other fluids, however, tell a different story entirely.
Kaname drags his tongue down through Zero’s folds and gathers the mixture of slickness and cum that’s leaked out, and the taste is clean. Not sweet, exactly, but bright and almost sharp, the flavor of something alive and functioning properly. It’s such a stark contrast to the blood that Kaname finds himself cataloguing the discrepancy with genuine interest, turning it over in his mind while his tongue continues its work.
Zero’s cunt is still puffy and oversensitive from being stretched around Kaname’s swollen cock, the flesh tender and responsive to every touch. Kaname can see where his rim is still slightly swollen, can see the evidence of their earlier activities in how readily Zero’s body produces more wetness when stimulated. He presses his tongue flat against Zero’s entrance and licks up slowly, gathering everything that’s leaked out and holding it in his mouth for a moment before swallowing.
Zero sobs above him and his hands pull harder at Kaname’s hair. “Move—fucking move already—”
The protest is familiar by now, automatic, and Kaname treats it with the same mild disregard he’s shown the others. He returns his attention to Zero’s clit and sucks harder this time, his tongue working the swollen bud with deliberate pressure.
Zero’s thighs shake where Kaname has them pinned and his hips try to pull away, but Kaname follows the movement and keeps his mouth sealed over the sensitive flesh. The reaction is immediate and involuntary, Zero’s walls clenching around nothing and more slickness flooding out. Kaname can feel it coating his chin and dripping down onto the sheets, can taste it when he shifts lower to catch it directly from the source.
The pallor makes sense now, Kaname thinks while his tongue pushes inside Zero’s entrance and strokes along his inner walls. The blood is corrupted but everything else is functioning normally, overcompensating perhaps, Zero’s body working twice as hard to maintain the appearance of life even while something rotten spreads through his veins. It explains the flush, the warmth, the way his cunt stays slick and responsive even after multiple orgasms.
It explains why he’s so compelling to look at, this particular quality of being caught between two states, neither fully vampire nor fully human, his body refusing to choose and instead maintaining both in contradiction.
Kaname pulls back and returns to Zero’s clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue before sucking it into his mouth again. Zero makes a broken sound and his back arches off the bed, his whole body trembling. Kaname can feel his thighs trying to close, can feel the desperate tension in his muscles, but he keeps them spread wide and pins them back further to improve his access.
“Kaname—” Zero’s voice breaks on his name and the sound of it does something interesting to Kaname’s attention. “That’s enough—I already—”
His walls clench frantically and more wetness leaks out, mixing with the cum Kaname filled him with earlier. Kaname licks through it methodically, his tongue mapping every fold and gathering everything onto his tongue. The taste is still clean, still bright, and he finds himself genuinely enthusiastic about the task in a way he hasn’t been about much of anything in recent memory.
Zero’s hand in his hair loosens slightly and then tightens again when Kaname’s tongue finds a particularly sensitive spot. His hips jerk involuntarily and Kaname holds him in place with both hands on his thighs, fingers pressing into the pale flesh hard enough to leave marks. Zero sobs again and Kaname glances up to see his face, sees the tears streaming down his temples and the flush blazing across his cheeks and the way his mouth is open and gasping.
Still pale underneath it all, but alive with it. Warm. Responsive.
Kaname returns his attention to Zero’s clit and sucks harder, working the swollen bud with his tongue until Zero’s sobs dissolve into high desperate keening. His walls clench rhythmically and his thighs shake with sustained trembling, and when Kaname slides two fingers inside him to stroke that spot while continuing to work his clit Zero’s whole body goes rigid.
The orgasm hits him visibly, his back arching completely off the bed and his hands pulling so hard at Kaname’s hair that several strands come loose. His walls clamp down on Kaname’s fingers with devastating force and a fresh flood of wetness gushes out, mixing with the cum and creating more mess for Kaname to collect.
Kaname pulls his fingers free and seals his mouth over Zero’s entrance, tongue pushing inside to gather everything directly from the source. The mixture pools on his tongue and he holds it there for a moment, cataloguing the taste, before swallowing and returning for more.
Zero is making continuous broken sounds now, too overwhelmed to form words, his body still convulsing with aftershocks. His hands have gone slack in Kaname’s hair and his thighs have stopped trying to close, just trembling uselessly where Kaname has them pinned. When Kaname looks up again Zero’s eyes are unfocused and wet, his face soaked with tears and his lips bitten red.
Still pale, flushed — and alive in that particular way that shouldn’t be possible for what he is.
Kaname licks through his folds one more time, thorough and unhurried, and Zero whimpers at the contact. His walls flutter weakly and his whole body shudders, and when Kaname finally pulls back to examine his work Zero just lies there trembling, too wrung out to even cover his face.
“Your blood is rotten,” Kaname observes mildly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “But everything else about you tastes perfect.”
Zero makes a choked sound that might be a laugh or might be a sob. His hands come up to cover his face and his shoulders shake, and Kaname watches him try to pull himself together while still spread wide and dripping with the evidence of how thoroughly he’s been taken apart.
Interesting, Kaname thinks again, with the patient certainty of someone who’s just confirmed something worth knowing. Very interesting indeed.
Zero has such a pretty face.
Kaname has thought this before, many times across the weeks since their arrangement shifted, but the observation takes on new weight when Zero’s mouth is stretched obscenely around his cock and his eyes are wet and furious and fixed on Kaname’s face with undiluted hatred.
The proportions are wrong in a way that makes the visual compelling. Kaname’s cock is far too large for Zero’s mouth, the thick width forcing his jaw open wider than comfortable, his lips pulled taut and glistening where they’re sealed around the shaft. Zero’s cheeks are hollowed with effort and his breathing comes in sharp gasps through his nose, and every few seconds he has to pull back slightly to keep from choking.
Kaname watches him with steady attention, one hand resting loosely in Zero’s silver hair, not guiding but present. Zero’s technique has improved over the past two weeks, the initial fumbling uncertainty replaced with something more deliberate, but the size difference remains a fundamental challenge. He can’t take more than half of Kaname’s length without gagging, can’t maintain the suction without his jaw cramping, and the frustration of it shows in the tight furrow between his brows.
It’s beautiful.
Zero pulls back to breathe and glares up at Kaname, his lips red and swollen, saliva connecting his mouth to Kaname’s cock in thin strands. “This is excessive,” he says, his voice rough. “You’re being unreasonable.”
“You agreed to this,” Kaname points out mildly.
“I agreed to sex,” Zero grits out. “Not whatever the fuck this is.”
“This is sex,” Kaname says, and his cock twitches visibly at the sight of Zero’s flushed face and bitten lips. “Continue.”
Zero’s jaw clenches and for a moment Kaname thinks he might refuse, but then he leans forward and takes Kaname back into his mouth with clear resentment. The wet heat engulfs him and Kaname’s hand tightens slightly in Zero’s hair, an involuntary response to the sensation.
Zero’s tongue works along the underside of his shaft and Kaname feels his own breathing change, feels the pleasure building with steady intensity. Zero notices the response and doubles his efforts with visible spite, sucking harder and taking him deeper until he gags and has to pull back coughing.
“Slower,” Kaname says, his voice gone lower. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
“Don’t care,” Zero mutters, and goes back down with the same aggressive pace.
The combination of Zero’s pretty face and his absolute refusal to show anything but hostility while his mouth is being thoroughly used is doing something profound to Kaname’s control. He watches Zero struggle to take him deeper, watches the tears gather in the corners of his eyes from the effort, watches his throat work as he tries to suppress his gag reflex.
Zero’s hand comes up to brace against Kaname’s thigh and the other wraps around the base of his cock, stroking what won’t fit in his mouth. The coordination is better than last time, the rhythm more confident, and when Zero hollows his cheeks and sucks hard Kaname’s hips jerk forward involuntarily.
Zero makes a choked sound and pulls back, glaring. “Don’t fucking move.”
“My apologies,” Kaname says, not sounding particularly apologetic, and Zero’s eyes narrow before he goes back down with renewed determination.
The pleasure builds steadily and Kaname finds his attention splitting between the physical sensation and the visual, unable to decide which is more compelling. Zero’s mouth stretched around him, Zero’s flushed face and wet eyes, Zero’s complete inability to take all of him despite his obvious efforts to prove otherwise.
Zero’s technique shifts and he takes Kaname deeper than before, his throat opening around the head of his cock, and the tight wet heat makes Kaname’s hand tighten in his hair. Zero holds it for a moment before pulling back gagging, saliva dripping down his chin.
“Almost,” Kaname murmurs, more to himself than to Zero.
“Almost what?” Zero demands, his voice wrecked.
“You almost took all of it that time.”
Zero stares at him with something between disbelief and fury. “That’s not possible.”
“It will be,” Kaname says with mild certainty. “With practice.”
“You’re insane,” Zero mutters, but he’s already leaning forward again, and this time when he takes Kaname into his mouth he goes deeper, his throat working around the intrusion.
Kaname watches him struggle and feels the orgasm building faster than anticipated, the tight heat and the visual of Zero’s determination combining into something overwhelming. His cock twitches in Zero’s mouth and Zero pulls back slightly, sensing the change.
“Don’t you dare,” Zero starts to say, but Kaname’s hand in his hair tightens and holds him in place.
The orgasm hits and Kaname pulls Zero down as he comes, his cock sliding deeper into Zero’s throat and pulsing there. Zero makes a choked desperate sound and his hands push at Kaname’s thighs, but Kaname holds him steady while he floods his throat with cum.
Zero’s eyes go wide and panicked, his throat working frantically to swallow, and when Kaname finally releases him he pulls back coughing and gasping. Cum drips from his lips and his face is flushed dark with exertion and fury, and Kaname looks at him with deep satisfaction.
“You—” Zero coughs again and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You fucking—”
“That’s a first,” Kaname observes, his tone conversational. “You took it very well.”
Zero glares at him with pure hatred, still catching his breath, and Kaname reaches down to cup his jaw with gentle fingers. The touch is soft, almost tender, completely at odds with what just happened.
“Please bend over,” Kaname says, his voice mild and polite.
Zero blinks at him, the request so unexpected that his anger stutters for a moment into confusion. “What?”
“Bend over,” Kaname repeats. “On your hands and knees.”
The confusion shifts back into fury immediately. “No.”
“No?” Kaname tilts his head slightly, genuinely curious.
“We’re done,” Zero says, his voice still rough. “You already finished.”
“I’m not done,” Kaname says, and his cock is already hardening again, responding to Zero’s flushed face and the defiance in his eyes.
Zero stares at him and something like disbelief crosses his face. “That’s not normal.”
“Nevertheless,” Kaname says, and stands, pulling Zero up with him.
Zero tries to pull away but Kaname’s grip is unyielding, guiding him with patient firmness. Zero resists on principle, his body going rigid, but Kaname simply adjusts and positions him differently than requested. He sits on the bed and pulls Zero into his lap, Zero’s back against his chest, and hooks his arms under Zero’s knees to lift and spread his legs wide.
“What are you—” Zero’s voice goes sharp when he realizes the position. “This is—let go—”
Kaname ignores the protest and adjusts his grip, pulling Zero’s legs back further until his knees are nearly to his chest and his cunt is tilted up and completely exposed. One hand releases a leg to guide his cock to Zero’s entrance, and the slide in is smooth, Zero’s body still slick and open from their activities earlier in the week.
Zero makes a choked sound when Kaname seats himself fully, the angle driving him impossibly deep. His walls clench down and his hands fly to grip Kaname’s forearms where they’re holding his legs spread.
“Too deep—” Zero gasps out. “This angle is—”
Kaname adjusts his grip and pulls Zero down harder, seating himself even deeper, and Zero’s protest cuts off in a high sound. The position puts Zero on complete display, his cunt stretched around Kaname’s cock and his thighs spread obscenely wide, and Kaname can see everything in the mirror across the room.
“Look,” Kaname murmurs against Zero’s ear, his breath warm against the side of his neck. “Look at how well you take me in this position.”
“Don’t want to look,” Zero grits out, but his eyes track to the mirror anyway and Kaname feels his whole body go rigid at the sight of himself spread open and impaled.
Kaname starts to move, lifting Zero slightly and pulling him back down, using his grip on his legs as leverage. The angle drives him deeper than any previous position, his cock reaching places that make Zero’s breath stutter and his walls clench frantically.
“You should be more obedient,” Kaname says conversationally, his mouth still against Zero’s ear. “It would make things easier for you.”
“Fuck off,” Zero gasps, his voice shaking.
“When I ask you to do something, you should do it without complaint.” Kaname lifts him and pulls him down harder, and Zero makes a wounded sound. “It’s quite simple.”
“I’m not your—” Zero’s words cut off when Kaname angles his hips and hits that spot inside him that makes his vision blur. “—not your fucking servant—”
“No,” Kaname agrees, lifting him again with steady rhythm. “You’re something much more interesting than that.”
He can see Zero’s face in the mirror, flushed and wet with tears he doesn’t seem aware of, his mouth open and gasping. His cunt is stretched obscenely around Kaname’s cock and producing wetness that drips down onto the sheets, and every lift and drop makes obscene wet sounds that echo in the quiet room.
“If I say bend over, you bend over,” Kaname continues, his voice calm despite the exertion. “If I say open your mouth, you open it. Very simple.”
“Go to hell,” Zero sobs, and his walls clench down hard.
“You’re being difficult on purpose,” Kaname observes, and adjusts the angle again to drive even deeper. “It only makes me want to keep you like this longer.”
Zero makes a desperate sound and his hands pull at Kaname’s forearms, trying to get leverage, trying to slow the relentless pace. But the position gives him no control, leaves him completely at Kaname’s mercy, and when Kaname picks up the pace Zero can only take it.
“You’re going to learn,” Kaname murmurs against his ear, watching Zero fall apart in the mirror. “Eventually. You’re going to learn that fighting me only makes it more intense.”
“I hate you,” Zero chokes out, and it sounds more wrecked than usual, more desperate.
“I know,” Kaname says, and pulls him down one more time, seating himself impossibly deep. “Now show me how obedient you can be. Come on my cock without me touching you anywhere else.”
Zero’s eyes go wide in the mirror and his mouth opens to protest, but Kaname starts moving again with brutal efficiency, and Zero’s words dissolve into broken sounds as his body starts to obey despite his mind’s rebellion.
The orgasm builds faster than Zero wants it to, his walls clenching rhythmically and his breathing going ragged. Kaname can feel the exact moment when Zero realizes he’s going to come, when the resistance in his body shifts from fighting to desperately trying to hold back the inevitable.
“Don’t—” Zero gasps out, his voice wrecked. “Don’t make me—”
Kaname adjusts the angle and drives deeper, and Zero’s words cut off in a high keen. His whole body goes rigid and his walls clamp down with devastating force, and the orgasm tears through him visibly. His back arches and his head falls back against Kaname’s shoulder, mouth open on a silent scream, and wetness floods out around Kaname’s cock to drip onto the sheets below.
Kaname holds him through it, watching in the mirror as Zero falls apart, and when the spasms finally ease Zero is trembling and boneless in his grip. His eyes are unfocused and wet, his face flushed dark, and when Kaname releases his legs they fall open and useless.
Zero slumps forward slightly, catching himself on shaking hands, and Kaname feels him start to pull away. The movement is sluggish, exhausted, but determined, Zero trying to lift himself off Kaname’s cock and escape while he still can.
Kaname’s hands come to Zero’s hips and hold him in place. “Where are you going?”
“Off,” Zero says, his voice rough and strained. “Getting off—we’re done—”
“We’re not done,” Kaname says mildly, and when Zero tries to pull away harder Kaname simply lifts him and repositions him entirely.
Zero makes a sound of protest as Kaname maneuvers him onto his back, but he’s too wrung out to put up effective resistance. Kaname settles between his legs and pushes them back toward his chest, folding Zero nearly in half, and when he slides back inside the angle is even deeper than before.
“No—” Zero’s hands come up to push at Kaname’s chest. “That’s enough—you’re done—”
“I’m not done,” Kaname says, and starts moving again with deliberate purpose.
Zero tries to twist away but Kaname’s weight pins him down, his hands pressing Zero’s thighs back and holding them spread wide. The position leaves Zero completely immobilized, his hips tilted up and his cunt taking the full depth of each thrust, and when Kaname picks up the pace Zero’s protests dissolve into desperate sounds.
“Let go—” Zero gasps, still trying to push at Kaname’s shoulders. “I’m not doing this again—”
Kaname ignores him and continues the brutal rhythm, his cock driving deep with each thrust. Zero’s walls are still sensitive from his orgasm and they clench frantically around the intrusion, and Kaname can feel his own release building with steady intensity.
Zero must sense it too because his eyes go wide and panicked. “Don’t you dare—not inside—pull out—”
“No,” Kaname says simply, and thrusts harder.
“You already finished—” Zero’s voice is desperate now, his hands pushing harder at Kaname’s chest. “You can’t—that’s not possible—”
“Watch me,” Kaname murmurs, and feels the familiar sensation beginning, his cock starting to swell at the base.
Zero’s eyes go impossibly wider and his whole body goes rigid. “Wait—what’s happening—why is it—”
“You know what’s happening,” Kaname says, pressing deeper as the swelling increases. “You’ve felt this before.”
“Not again—” Zero tries to pull away but Kaname’s grip on his thighs tightens and holds him exactly where he is. “Pull out now—before it—”
The swelling intensifies and Kaname pushes in to the hilt, seating the thickening base inside Zero’s entrance just as it expands fully. Zero makes a choked sound and his walls clench down hard around the intrusion, and Kaname feels the lock complete.
“Now you’re trapped,” Kaname murmurs, leaning down so his mouth is against Zero’s ear. “Little hunter.”
Zero’s breath stutters and his hands claw at Kaname’s shoulders, no longer pushing away but just gripping desperately as the sensation overwhelms him. His eyes squeeze shut and his whole face scrunches up, and Kaname watches with fascination as tears immediately start leaking from the corners of his closed eyes.
“Can’t—” Zero gasps out, his voice breaking. “It’s too much—it’s getting bigger—”
Kaname’s cock pulses inside him and Zero makes a wounded sound, his walls clenching frantically around the swollen intrusion. The expansion continues and Kaname can see the moment it becomes unbearable for Zero, when his mouth falls open and a sob tears from his throat.
“Look at me,” Kaname says quietly.
“Can’t—” Zero’s eyes stay clenched shut and more tears spill down his temples. “Don’t make me—”
“Open your eyes, Zero.”
Zero’s eyes flutter but don’t open, his whole face still scrunched up against the sensation. His hands are trembling where they grip Kaname’s shoulders and his breathing has gone ragged and desperate, and when Kaname’s cock swells another increment Zero makes a high desperate sound.
Kaname finds this unbearably compelling. Zero can’t even glare at him, can’t maintain that hostile eye contact he usually forces, too overwhelmed by the sensation to do anything but squeeze his eyes shut and take it. The tears are streaming steadily now and Zero doesn’t seem aware of them, doesn’t seem aware of anything except the feeling of being stretched impossibly wide and locked in place.
He’s really cute like this, Kaname thinks with mild satisfaction. Completely undone and unable to hide it, unable to maintain even the pretense of composure, just raw sensation and involuntary response.
The first pulse of cum floods into Zero and his whole body jerks, his walls clenching down with devastating force. Kaname watches his face as he fills him, watches Zero’s expression shift from overwhelmed to something closer to desperation as more and more cum pours into him with nowhere to go.
“Too much—” Zero gasps between sobs. “There’s too much—”
“You’ll take it,” Kaname says against his ear. “All of it. You don’t have a choice.”
Zero makes a broken sound and his walls pulse rhythmically, and Kaname realizes with interest that he’s coming again, his body responding to being filled despite his obvious distress. The orgasm makes him clench even harder around Kaname’s swollen cock and more tears stream down his face, and through it all his eyes stay squeezed shut.
“That’s it,” Kaname murmurs, watching Zero fall apart beneath him. “Take everything I give you.”
Zero’s only response is another sob, his hands still gripping Kaname’s shoulders and his whole body trembling with the force of sensation. His face is soaked with tears and flushed dark, and the combination of his scrunched expression and his complete inability to do anything but feel is doing something profound to Kaname’s satisfaction.
“Open your eyes,” Kaname says again, gentler this time.
Zero’s eyes flutter and finally open, unfocused and wet and completely wrecked. He stares up at Kaname without really seeing him, too overwhelmed to process anything beyond the physical, and when Kaname’s cock pulses again his eyes try to close but Kaname cups his jaw and keeps his face tilted up.
“Look at me while I fill you,” Kaname says quietly. “Let me see how pretty you are when you can’t fight back.”
Zero makes a choked sound and tries to turn his head but Kaname’s grip keeps him steady. His eyes are streaming and unfocused but they stay open, locked on Kaname’s face, and when another pulse floods him with more cum his mouth falls open on a broken sound.
“So pretty,” Kaname murmurs, more to himself than to Zero. “Especially like this. Trapped and full and completely mine.”
“Not yours—” Zero forces the words out between gasps. “Never—”
“Yes you are,” Kaname says with mild certainty, and kisses him.
Zero makes a desperate sound against his mouth but can’t pull away, can’t do anything but take the kiss while locked around Kaname’s swollen cock. His walls are still clenching rhythmically and more tears stream down into his hair, and Kaname thinks with perfect clarity that he’s never seen anything more compelling than Zero like this, utterly undone and unable to hide it.
Kaname isn’t surprised when Zero calls it off.
The arrangement was always going to end, the parameters clear from the beginning, and if Kaname had been asked to predict when Zero’s tolerance would finally fracture he would have placed the estimate somewhere around this week anyway. Three months is longer than he’d anticipated when they’d started, longer than most temporary exchanges of this nature sustain themselves, and the fact that Zero lasted this long speaks more to his desperation than to any genuine willingness to continue.
So no, the termination itself isn’t surprising.
What catches him off guard is the degree to which he notices Zero’s absence.
The night classroom is half-empty tonight, several students occupied elsewhere, and Kaname should be paying attention to the discussion happening at the front of the room. Some debate about territorial boundaries in the modern era, the sort of political maneuvering that used to hold his interest in previous centuries. Instead his gaze keeps tracking to the window, to the courtyard below where Zero is making his rounds with the twin.
The ex-human is walking normally tonight, no careful posture or rigid movements to suggest discomfort, and Kaname catalogs this observation with the same focused attention he’s been bringing to everything about Zero for weeks now. The twin says something and Zero’s mouth quirks slightly at one corner, not quite a smile but close enough that Kaname can read the amusement in it from here.
He’s been paying attention, Kaname realizes with mild interest. Not just during their encounters, not just when Zero was in his immediate presence, but constantly. Tracking his movements around campus, noting when he skipped meals in the dining hall, observing which classes left him looking more exhausted than others. The monitoring has been systematic and thorough, and Kaname isn’t entirely sure when it shifted from casual observation to something more sustained.
Zero laughs at something the twin says and the sound doesn’t carry up to the window, but Kaname sees it in the way his shoulders shake slightly, in the way his hand comes up to cover his mouth like he’s trying to suppress it. The gesture is unbearably endearing in a way that makes something shift uncomfortably in Kaname’s chest.
This is new.
Ten thousand years and Kaname has seen beauty in countless forms, has witnessed every configuration of desire and attraction and aesthetic appreciation that exists. He knows what it looks like when something is merely pleasant to observe versus when it starts to matter in ways that transcend simple visual appeal. What’s happening in his chest right now as he watches Zero attempt to hide his amusement falls definitively into the latter category.
The realization should be more disturbing than it is.
Zero’s positive reactions have started to register as pleasant, Kaname acknowledges while the discussion continues behind him unheard. Not just the ones directed at him during their encounters, though those had their own compelling quality, but the ones that have nothing to do with him at all. The rare moments when Zero’s hostility drops and something softer shows through, when he forgets to maintain his guard and just exists without the weight of what he is pressing down on every interaction.
There was a moment two weeks ago that Kaname has been turning over in his mind with concerning frequency. He’d been passing the stables during a free period and had seen Zero standing at one of the stalls, hand extended toward the horse inside. The animal had been skittish initially, backing away from his presence the way most creatures do when they sense vampire, but Zero had just stood there with patient stillness and eventually the horse had approached.
When it had finally taken the apple from Zero’s palm, had lowered its head to let Zero stroke its nose, the smile that had crossed Zero’s face had been unguarded and genuine. Soft in a way Kaname had never seen him, the usual tension in his shoulders gone completely, just pure uncomplicated pleasure at this small moment of connection with something that didn’t immediately reject what he’d become.
Something had touched Kaname’s chest watching that, something that felt almost like warmth in a place that had been cold and still for centuries. He’d stood there in the shadows observing Zero’s smile and wondered with genuine uncertainty if this was what other people meant when they described feeling something real.
The horse, of all creatures. Not Kaname’s careful attention or the blood he’d been providing or even the physical pleasure he’d wrung from Zero’s body repeatedly over the past three months. A horse accepting an apple had produced more genuine happiness in Zero’s expression than anything Kaname had done.
The thought should be irritating. Instead Kaname finds it oddly compelling, this evidence that Zero still has capacity for uncomplicated positive emotion despite everything, that he’s not entirely consumed by what he’s becoming.
Below in the courtyard Zero and the twin have stopped walking, and Kaname watches as Zero tilts his head back to look at the sky. The moon is nearly full tonight and the light catches in his silver hair, makes his pale skin seem almost luminous, and even from this distance Kaname can see the particular quality of his expression, something almost peaceful.
Beautiful, Kaname thinks with the same clinical assessment he’s applied to countless things over his long existence. But the observation doesn’t settle the way it usually does, doesn’t file itself away as mere aesthetic notation. It sits in his chest with uncomfortable weight, demanding more attention than simple acknowledgment of visual appeal.
This is inconvenient.
The arrangement ending was inevitable and Kaname had known it from the start, had structured his expectations accordingly. He’d intended to enjoy Zero while he had access and then move on to whatever came next without particular attachment. Simple enough in theory. The execution has proven more complicated than anticipated.
He’s going to miss this, Kaname realizes while watching Zero’s profile in the moonlight. Not just the physical encounters, though those had their own merit, but the observation itself. The systematic cataloging of Zero’s responses, the careful attention to what made him flush or tense or produce that particular furrow between his brows. The satisfaction of watching someone interesting exist in the world and knowing more about them than they realize.
The twin says something and Zero’s attention drops back down from the sky, his expression shifting back to something more guarded. They resume walking and Kaname tracks their movement across the courtyard with focused intensity, committing the visual to memory with the same thoroughness he’s been applying to everything else about Zero lately.
Behind him someone asks a question about boundary disputes and Kaname responds without turning from the window, his answer automatic and precise. The discussion continues and he maintains the appearance of partial engagement while his actual attention remains fixed on the courtyard below, on Zero’s retreating form as he disappears around the corner of the building.
The absence when he’s out of sight registers as an actual loss, something missing from Kaname’s awareness that leaves a gap he notices. This too is new, this particular quality of paying attention to absence rather than just presence.
Inconvenient, Kaname thinks again, but the assessment lacks conviction. Something in him has shifted over the past three months, some mechanism engaged that he hadn’t intended to activate, and now he’s left examining genuine feeling in himself for the first time in recent memory while Zero walks away unaware.
The coldness in his chest isn’t quite as absolute as it was three months ago, Kaname acknowledges with mild resignation. Something has touched it, warmed it fractionally, and if he’s being honest with himself it happened somewhere between watching Zero take his cock with tears streaming down his face and watching him smile at a horse in an empty stable.
Somewhere in there, genuine feeling.
The realization settles with quiet certainty, and Kaname turns it over in his mind while the night classroom discussion continues behind him and Zero’s absence registers like a missing piece in the composition of his awareness.
Interesting, he thinks. Very interesting indeed.
The deterioration is gradual enough that someone less attentive might miss it.
Kaname notices on day three.
Zero’s movements have always carried a particular tension, the coiled readiness of someone prepared to fight at any moment, but there’s a new quality to it now. A hesitation before he commits to action, a fractional delay that suggests his body isn’t responding quite as quickly as his mind demands. It’s subtle, barely visible, but Kaname has spent three months cataloging every detail of how Zero moves through the world and the change registers immediately.
By day seven Zero is skipping meals with concerning regularity.
Kaname tracks this through systematic observation, noting when Zero appears in the dining hall versus when he’s absent, cross-referencing with the twin’s attendance to determine if it’s circumstantial or deliberate. The pattern emerges clearly: Zero is avoiding situations where he might be expected to eat, where his lack of appetite would become visible to others. The twin doesn’t seem to have noticed yet, or if he has he’s chosen not to comment.
Day twelve brings the first visible sign of physical weakness.
Zero stumbles on the steps leading up to the main building, catching himself on the railing with movements that are slightly too slow, slightly too uncoordinated. The twin is there immediately, hand coming to his elbow, and Zero shakes him off with visible irritation. But Kaname sees the way Zero’s hand remains on the railing for several seconds longer than necessary, sees the careful deliberation in how he takes the next few steps.
Interesting, Kaname thinks from his position by the upper windows. And concerning, though he doesn’t examine too closely why the concern registers at all.
By week three the change is pronounced enough that even casual observers are starting to notice.
Zero’s uniform hangs differently on his frame, the fabric loose in places it used to fit properly. His face has gone sharper, the delicate bone structure more prominent, and there’s a hollowness under his eyes that speaks to poor sleep and worse nutrition. He moves with the careful precision of someone conserving energy, and twice Kaname has seen him brace himself against walls during transitions between classes.
The twin has definitely noticed now.
Kaname watches from across the courtyard as the younger Kiryu's hand comes to rest on Zero’s waist, steadying him, and the touch lingers longer than strictly necessary. Zero doesn’t pull away this time, just allows it with the kind of weary acceptance that suggests this has become routine between them. When they start walking, the younger keeps his hand there, guiding and supporting, and Zero leans into it fractionally.
Something unpleasant shifts in Kaname’s chest at the sight.
He examines the sensation with clinical interest while tracking their movement across the courtyard. Not quite jealousy, because that would require a level of emotional investment he’s not prepared to acknowledge, but something adjacent to it. Grudge, perhaps. The particular irritation of watching someone else provide support that Zero needs, support he’s refusing to seek from Kaname himself.
The twin is touching what belongs to him, Kaname thinks, then pauses at the possessive framing. What used to belong to him. The arrangement is over. Zero made that clear four weeks ago and Kaname has no legitimate claim to object to who touches him now.
The logic is sound but it doesn’t resolve the unpleasant sensation watching them.
Day twenty-six and Zero nearly collapses during prefect rounds.
Kaname isn’t there to witness it directly but he hears about it within an hour, the incident spreading through the night class with the speed of genuinely interesting gossip. Zero had been walking the perimeter when his legs had given out, and only the twin’s quick intervention had prevented him from hitting the ground. The younger had apparently half-carried him to the infirmary, where Cross had examined him and found nothing physically wrong beyond obvious malnutrition and exhaustion.
Nothing physically wrong, Kaname thinks with dark amusement, because Cross doesn’t know what to look for. Doesn’t understand that Zero’s particular condition requires a specific form of sustenance that standard medical examination won’t reveal.
Zero is starving, and he’s starving himself deliberately rather than come back.
The realization settles with uncomfortable weight. This isn’t just Zero being stubborn or proud, though both of those qualities are certainly factors. This is Zero choosing literal starvation over accepting what Kaname had been providing, choosing physical deterioration over resuming their arrangement. The level of determination required to maintain that choice while visibly falling apart is almost impressive.
Almost, Kaname thinks while watching the twin help Zero across the courtyard three days later, his hand still on Zero’s waist and Zero still leaning into the support with increasing dependency.
Day thirty and the twin is stronger than Zero now.
The reversal is visible in how they move together, in the way Ichiru Kiryu positions himself to take more of Zero’s weight, in how his frame seems broader and more solid next to Zero’s increasing fragility. Zero, who has always been the stronger twin, who carried the burden of being the Kiryu heir while Ichiru remained in the background, is now physically dependent on his weaker brother for basic stability.
Kaname finds this desperately compelling for reasons he doesn’t care to examine closely.
He watches them from the night classroom window, tracking how Ichiru’s hand spreads wide against Zero’s waist to steady him, how Zero’s head dips slightly to rest against his twin’s shoulder when he thinks no one is looking. The intimacy of it, the casual trust, the way Zero accepts help from Ichiru that he would refuse from anyone else.
The grudge in Kaname’s chest intensifies and he catalogs it with mild interest. This is what jealousy feels like, apparently. Not the dramatic possessive rage he’s seen in others, but this quiet persistent irritation at watching someone else occupy space that used to be his.
Used to be, he reminds himself. The arrangement is over.
But Zero can’t maintain this trajectory indefinitely.
Kaname knows enough about turned vampires to understand the timeline. Zero has lasted a month without feeding and that’s already beyond what most could manage, his particular stubbornness and the lingering strength from their previous arrangement carrying him further than should be possible. But there’s a limit, a point where the body’s needs override the mind’s resistance, and Zero is approaching it rapidly.
He’ll break eventually, Kaname thinks with quiet certainty. He’ll have to.
The question is when, and whether he’ll come to Kaname when it happens or try to find alternative solutions. Cross might provide blood tablets, though those wouldn’t address Zero’s specific needs. The twin doesn’t know what’s happening, doesn’t understand why Zero is deteriorating, so he can’t help beyond physical support. And Zero himself seems determined to simply endure until his body forces a different choice.
So Kaname waits.
He maintains his usual routine, attends classes and performs his duties as dorm president, and tracks Zero’s declining condition with systematic attention. He doesn’t approach, doesn’t offer, doesn’t give any indication that he’s noticed or concerned. The pride that kept Zero from coming back initially will keep him away as long as he believes Kaname is indifferent to his struggle.
Let him think it, Kaname decides. Let him believe the arrangement meant nothing, that Kaname has moved on without particular interest in whether Zero survives his stubbornness.
Meanwhile Kaname watches from windows and shadows, catalogs every stumble and every moment Zero leans heavier on his twin, and waits for the inevitable breaking point with patient certainty.
It will come. Soon, based on the trajectory. Zero’s strength is degrading faster now, the deterioration accelerating as his body depletes its remaining reserves. Another week, perhaps two at the outside, and he’ll be desperate enough to override his pride.
Kaname can wait that long.
He’s waited ten thousand years for things that mattered less. Two weeks is nothing, barely a pause, and the anticipation of Zero’s eventual return adds interesting texture to days that had been threatening to blur into monotony.
So he watches, and tracks, and maintains careful distance, and ignores the uncomfortable sensation in his chest every time he sees the twin’s hand on Zero’s waist or Zero’s head resting against his brother's shoulder. The grudge sits there alongside the genuine feeling he’d identified a month ago, both of them persistent and inconvenient and completely undeniable.
Zero will come back, Kaname tells himself while watching the twins disappear around the corner of the building. He has to.
And when he does, Kaname will be ready.
Patience, Kaname has learned over ten thousand years, is a virtue reserved for situations that warrant it.
This situation no longer warrants it.
Zero’s senses are so dulled by starvation that he doesn’t notice Kaname’s presence until he’s within arm’s reach, and even then the reaction is sluggish, delayed. His hand moves toward the Bloody Rose at his hip with movements that are fractionally too slow, his body struggling to obey commands his mind is still capable of giving.
Kaname doesn’t give him the opportunity to complete the motion.
He touches two fingers to Zero’s temple and pushes a command into his compromised consciousness, watching with clinical interest as Zero’s eyes roll back and his legs give out. Kaname catches him before he hits the ground, one arm sliding under his knees and the other supporting his back, and the weight in his arms is concerningly light.
Zero’s head lolls against Kaname’s shoulder, his breathing shallow but steady, and up close the deterioration is even more pronounced than it appeared from a distance. His skin has gone translucent at the temples where blue veins show through, his cheekbones are sharp enough to cast shadows across his face, and there’s a hollowness to his features that suggests his body has started consuming itself for fuel.
Unacceptable, Kaname thinks with quiet irritation, and adjusts his grip to carry Zero more securely.
The walk back toward the Moon Dorms is unhurried, Kaname’s steps measured and deliberate. Zero remains unconscious against his chest, one hand curled loosely against Kaname’s uniform jacket, and the complete absence of resistance is almost disappointing. He’d anticipated at least some struggle, some reflexive attempt to fight even in his weakened state, but Zero’s body has apparently decided that unconsciousness is the safer option.
Probably correct, given the circumstances.
Kaname is halfway across the grounds when something hits the back of his head.
The impact is negligible, barely registering as pressure, but the principle of it makes him stop and turn. An apple rolls to a stop several feet behind him, and standing at the edge of the tree line is a small figure with brown hair and an expression of determined outrage.
His relative, Kaname realizes. The girl Cross has been so concerned about.
She’s holding another apple, her arm cocked back in preparation to throw it, and the sight is so absurd that Kaname has to pause to fully process what he’s witnessing. His ancient pureblood relative, the princess Cross has been protecting, is attempting to attack him with fruit.
“Put him down,” the girl demands, her voice carrying across the distance with surprising force. “Right now.”
Kaname looks at her with mild interest, taking in the defensive stance and the protective fury in her expression. She’s small, barely coming up to his shoulder based on visual estimation, and she’s threatening him with produce. The disconnect between her apparent power level and her choice of weapon is fascinating.
“No,” Kaname says simply, and turns to continue walking.
The second apple hits his shoulder and he stops again, glancing back at her with slightly more focused attention. She’s already reaching for a third one, her eyes blazing and her whole body vibrating with the kind of reckless courage that gets people killed.
“I said put him down,” she repeats, and her voice cracks slightly on the words. “Zero is my friend and you’re not taking him anywhere.”
Kaname adjusts Zero’s weight in his arms and turns to face her fully. “Your friend,” he repeats, his tone conversational. “And how exactly do you think your dear friend here has survived the past three months without having to drink from you?”
The girl’s expression falters, confusion flickering across her face. “What?”
“Zero is a turned vampire,” Kaname continues, his voice mild and educational. “Level E, specifically, which means he requires blood to maintain stability. He hasn’t touched you, hasn’t fed from you, and yet until recently he was managing his condition adequately.” He pauses, letting the implication settle. “Where do you think that blood was coming from?”
The girl’s arm lowers slightly, the apple still clutched in her hand but no longer positioned to throw. “He was getting blood tablets from—”
“Blood tablets don’t work for turned vampires facing degradation to Level E,” Kaname interrupts. “You would know this if you had your memories, but since you don’t, I’ll explain. Zero requires pureblood blood to survive. Specifically, he requires my blood, which I’ve been providing in exchange for certain favors.”
The confusion on the girl’s face shifts into something closer to horror. “What kind of favors?”
“The kind that kept him stable and functional and away from your throat,” Kaname says, and watches her process the implications.
Her grip on the apple loosens and it drops to the ground, forgotten. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Kaname tilts his head slightly. “Ask yourself how Zero has managed to attend classes, perform his prefect duties, and maintain enough control to be near you every day without once attempting to feed. Blood tablets couldn’t achieve that. Cross’s supervision couldn’t achieve that. Only regular access to pureblood blood could achieve that, and I’m the only pureblood who’s been providing it.”
The girl’s expression crumbles slightly and she takes a step forward, her hands clenching into fists. “What did you make him do?”
“That’s between Zero and myself,” Kaname says. “The relevant point is that he hasn’t been a danger to you because I’ve been keeping him stable. He terminated our arrangement a month ago and has been deteriorating ever since. Another week and he’ll lose control completely, at which point the first person he encounters will become his victim.” He pauses. “That person would most likely be you, given how much time you spend together.”
The girl stares at him and Kaname can see the conflict playing across her face, the desire to protect Zero warring with the growing understanding of the situation’s complexity. Her gaze drops to Zero’s unconscious form in Kaname’s arms, taking in the visible deterioration, and something in her expression softens.
“You’re taking him to feed him,” she says quietly, and it’s not quite a question.
“Yes,” Kaname confirms.
“And then what?”
“And then he’ll be stable enough to make his own decisions about whether to continue our arrangement or pursue alternative solutions.” Kaname adjusts his grip on Zero again. “But right now, in this moment, he’s too far gone to make rational choices and his body is shutting down. So I’m removing his ability to choose poorly.”
The girl is silent for a long moment, her gaze moving between Kaname’s face and Zero’s unconscious form. When she finally speaks her voice is small. “You’ll keep him safe?”
“I have no intention of letting him deteriorate further,” Kaname says, which is true enough without being a complete answer.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Kaname looks at her with slightly more interest, noting the sharpness in her tone despite her obvious distress. “He’ll be safer with me than he would be collapsing in the forest and being found by someone less invested in his survival.”
The girl’s jaw clenches and she takes another step forward. “If you hurt him—”
“You’ll throw more apples at me?” Kaname asks mildly. “How terrifying.”
Her face flushes but she holds her ground. “I’ll find a way.”
“I’m sure you will,” Kaname says, and there’s something almost fond in his tone despite himself. His relative has spirit, even without her memories, even facing down a pureblood with nothing but fruit and determination. “But that won’t be necessary. I have no interest in harming him.”
“Just in—” She stops, her face going redder. “In whatever you were making him do before.”
“In maintaining an arrangement that benefits both parties,” Kaname corrects. “Zero received the blood he needed to survive. I received compensation for providing it. Simple enough.”
“It doesn’t sound simple.”
“Very little about Zero is simple,” Kaname agrees, glancing down at the unconscious hunter in his arms. “But that’s part of what makes him interesting.”
The girl is quiet again, her expression still troubled but no longer actively hostile. Finally she takes a step back and wraps her arms around herself. “You’ll bring him back when he’s stable?”
“If he chooses to leave, yes.”
“When,” she insists. “When he’s stable. You’ll let him go.”
Kaname considers lying, considers offering false reassurance, but decides on honesty instead. “If Zero wants to leave, I won’t stop him. But I also won’t let him starve himself to death out of misplaced pride. So if he tries this again, I’ll intervene again.”
The girl stares at him for a long moment, then nods slowly. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I don’t like it,” she clarifies. “I don’t like any of this. But I don’t know how else to help him and you’re right that he can’t keep going like this.” Her hands clench tighter around her arms. “So okay. For now.”
Kaname inclines his head slightly, acknowledging the concession. “Your concern for your friend is admirable.”
“He’s more than a friend,” she says quietly. “He’s important to me.”
“I know,” Kaname says, and finds that he means it. The girl’s attachment to Zero is visible in every line of her body, in the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes that she’s trying not to let fall. “Which is why you’re going to let me take him now, before he deteriorates past the point where even pureblood blood can help him.”
The girl nods again, not trusting herself to speak, and steps aside to clear the path.
Kaname turns and continues toward the Moon Dorms, Zero’s weight settled securely in his arms. Behind him he hears the girl make a small choked sound, and when he glances back she’s standing with her arms still wrapped around herself, watching them leave with an expression of helpless concern.
His relative will be fine, Kaname decides. She has Cross to look after her, and apparently an endless supply of apples to throw at threats.
Zero shifts slightly in his arms, his head turning to press more fully against Kaname’s shoulder, and Kaname’s attention narrows back to the unconscious hunter with focused intensity.
Not fine yet, but he will be.
Kaname will make certain of it.
Zero wakes up to the sensation of being stretched open.
The awareness comes slowly, his consciousness surfacing through layers of fog that make coherent thought difficult. His body feels heavy and sluggish, his mind struggling to process the signals his nerves are sending. There’s pressure between his legs, a thick fullness that registers as present but not yet alarming, and his hips are tilted up at an angle that puts weight on his shoulders and upper back.
He blinks and the room comes into focus above him, the familiar ceiling of Kaname’s bedroom resolving out of the blur. His legs are folded back toward his chest, knees nearly touching his shoulders, and when he tries to move them he finds they won’t respond properly. His arms are resting limply at his sides and his fingers twitch when he attempts to curl them into fists.
The pressure between his legs shifts and Zero’s breath catches as awareness sharpens further. Something thick is inside him, not moving but undeniably present, and when he tilts his head down to look he sees Kaname kneeling between his spread thighs with his cock buried halfway into Zero’s cunt.
Zero stares at this for a long moment, his brain struggling to process the visual in his current state. Kaname is watching him with focused attention, one hand resting on Zero’s thigh and the other braced on the bed beside his shoulder, and there’s something patient in his stillness, like he’s been waiting for Zero to wake up.
“You’re awake,” Kaname observes mildly. “Good.”
Zero opens his mouth to respond and finds his voice doesn’t work properly yet, the sound that emerges more of a rough exhale than actual words. He swallows and tries again. “What—”
“You collapsed in the forest,” Kaname says, his tone conversational. “I brought you back and fed you. You’ve been unconscious for approximately three hours.”
The information settles slowly into Zero’s foggy consciousness. Forest. Collapsed. Fed. The pieces arrange themselves into something resembling sequence but the emotional response he expects doesn’t materialize. He should be angry, should be fighting to get away, should be doing anything except lying here calmly while Kaname’s cock is halfway inside him.
Instead he just feels heavy and warm and strangely unconcerned about the situation.
“You’re very calm right now,” Kaname continues, his thumb stroking along Zero’s inner thigh. “You’re always calm right after you’ve fed. It’s one of the more interesting effects of pureblood blood on your particular physiology.”
Zero processes this slowly, his gaze tracking from Kaname’s face down to where their bodies are joined. He can see his own cunt stretched around the intrusion, can see the pale pink flesh pulled taut and glistening, and the sight registers as something he should have strong feelings about but currently doesn’t.
“I’m going to move now,” Kaname says, and his hips roll forward slowly, pushing another inch deeper.
Zero’s breath catches and his walls clench down reflexively around the intrusion, sensation sparking through the fog. The stretch intensifies and he feels his body making room, yielding incrementally, and a small sound escapes his throat that’s barely audible.
Kaname’s movements are patient and methodical, each inch sliding in with deliberate care, and Zero’s hands come up to rest loosely on Kaname’s forearms. The touch is automatic, seeking something to anchor himself to, his fingers curling weakly around the fabric.
“You almost killed yourself,” Kaname says, and there’s something bitter in his voice that cuts through Zero’s fog. “Starving yourself for a month like a stubborn child throwing a tantrum. Did you think that would prove something?”
The words are cruel and sharp, and Zero hears the edge in them even through his grogginess. What surprises him more is the thread of something else underneath, something that sounds almost like genuine concern, and that realization makes his chest tighten uncomfortably.
Zero turns his head to the side, his gaze sliding away from Kaname’s face to focus on the wall instead. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the words slipping out before he can think better of them.
Kaname goes completely still.
Zero can feel the sudden rigidity in Kaname’s body, the way his breathing pauses, and when Zero risks a glance back at his face Kaname’s expression is frozen in something between shock and disbelief.
“I didn’t mean to—” Zero’s voice is rough and quiet. “I didn’t mean to put Yuuki in danger. I wasn’t thinking about what would happen if I lost control. I should have been more careful.”
The apology sits in the air between them and Zero watches something shift in Kaname’s expression, something dark and complicated that he can’t quite read. Then Kaname’s hands tighten on his thighs and his hips snap forward with sudden force, seating himself completely in one brutal thrust.
Zero’s whole body jerks and a choked sound tears from his throat, his walls clenching down hard around the intrusion as Kaname bottoms out with devastating impact. The fullness is immediate and overwhelming, driving the air from his lungs.
“You think this is about that little girl?” Kaname’s voice is low and dangerous, and Zero’s eyes go wide at the rage in it.
Before Zero can respond Kaname’s hand is in his hair, fisting it tight and pulling his head back to expose his throat. Zero’s hands fly up to grab at Kaname’s wrist but his grip is weak and useless, his body still sluggish from the feeding.
“You think I tracked you down and carried you back here because I was worried about my relative’s safety?” Kaname pulls out and slams back in hard enough to make Zero’s vision blur, and Zero makes a desperate sound. “You think I spent a month watching you deteriorate because I wanted to protect Yuuki?”
“I—” Zero tries to speak but Kaname slams in again and the words dissolve into a gasp.
“Answer me,” Kaname demands, his grip in Zero’s hair tightening painfully.
Zero’s hands scrabble at Kaname’s arms, trying to find purchase, but Kaname is relentless. His hips snap forward with brutal rhythm and each thrust drives deeper than the last, the angle putting impossible pressure on Zero’s already overwhelmed body. Zero’s walls clench frantically trying to adjust and his breathing goes ragged and desperate.
Kaname releases Zero’s hair only to grab both his wrists, yanking his hands away from where they’re clawing at his arms and pinning them together above his head with one hand. Zero pulls against the grip but achieves nothing, his strength completely inadequate against Kaname’s hold.
“You’re an idiot,” Kaname grits out, his voice harsh. “A stubborn, self-destructive idiot who would rather die than admit you need help.”
“Stop—” Zero gasps, but Kaname drives in harder.
“Do you have any idea how infuriating it’s been watching you fall apart?” Kaname’s free hand comes down to grip Zero’s hip hard enough to bruise. “Watching you lean on your twin because you were too weak to stand on your own? Watching him touch you when you wouldn’t let anyone else near you?”
Zero makes a high wounded sound and his back arches involuntarily, the sensation building too fast and too intense. His walls are clenching rhythmically around Kaname’s cock and he can feel wetness flooding out, his body responding despite the overwhelming nature of it all.
“I don’t—” Zero’s voice breaks. “I don’t understand—”
“No,” Kaname agrees harshly. “You don’t. You think everything is about someone else, about protecting Yuuki or maintaining your pride or proving you don’t need anything from anyone.” He adjusts the angle and hits that spot inside Zero that makes stars burst behind his eyes. “You never once considered that maybe I wanted you back for my own reasons.”
Zero’s breath stutters and an unwilling whimper escapes his throat, his body trembling with the force of sensation. Kaname’s rhythm is punishing and precise, each thrust calculated to overwhelm, and Zero can feel his control slipping with every passing second.
“Please—” Zero doesn’t know what he’s asking for, the word just falling from his lips without conscious thought.
Kaname’s cock pulses inside him and Zero feels the first hot flood of cum spreading deep in his cunt, filling him with wet heat that seems endless. His walls clench down hard around the intrusion and more keeps coming, pulse after pulse, and the sensation of being filled this thoroughly makes Zero’s whole body shudder.
“Stop acting like you care,” Zero gasps out between harsh breaths, tears starting to leak from the corners of his eyes. “This is stupid. You should just let me—”
He doesn’t finish the sentence but Kaname understands anyway, and something dangerous flashes in his eyes.
“Let you what?” Kaname demands, still flooding him with cum. “Die? Is that what you were going to say?”
Zero turns his head away again, his jaw clenching.
“Look at me,” Kaname orders, but Zero keeps his face turned stubbornly to the side. “Zero—”
“It would be easier,” Zero whispers. “For everyone. Yuuki wouldn’t have to worry about me losing control. You wouldn’t have to waste your time on—”
Kaname’s hand releases Zero’s hip to grab his jaw and force his face forward, making him meet his eyes. “Stop talking about her,” Kaname says, and there’s something almost desperate under the anger now. “This has nothing to do with Yuuki.”
“She’s your sister,” Zero says, confused and overwhelmed. “Of course it’s about—”
Kaname slams in harder and Zero’s words cut off in a broken cry. “It’s not about her,” Kaname repeats, his voice rough. “It has never been about her. When are you going to understand that?”
Zero stares up at him with wide wet eyes, his face flushed and his mouth open and gasping, and something in Kaname’s chest cracks open at the sight. The anger is still there but underneath it is something else, something he’s been refusing to acknowledge for weeks now, and watching Zero mention Yuuki again like she’s the reason for any of this makes it impossible to ignore anymore.
He favors Zero.
He likes this boy.
The realization hits with uncomfortable clarity while he’s buried deep inside him, while Zero’s walls are clenching around his still-pulsing cock and his face is soaked with tears he’s not even aware of crying. Kaname likes him more than anything else, more than anyone else in his long existence, and the fact that Zero can’t see that, that he keeps attributing Kaname’s actions to concern for someone else, is infuriating in a way that makes Kaname want to tear something apart.
“I don’t care about Yuuki,” Kaname says, and his voice has gone quiet and intense. “Not in this context. Not when it comes to you.”
Zero blinks at him, confusion clear in his expression. “But she’s—”
“I care about you, you stubborn fool,” Kaname interrupts, and the admission feels like something being ripped from his chest. “I care that you were starving yourself. I care that you were too weak to stand without help. I care that your twin was the one supporting you instead of me.”
Zero’s eyes go impossibly wider and fresh tears spill over. “That’s not—you can’t—”
“I watched you for a month,” Kaname continues, the words pouring out now with harsh honesty. “I tracked every meal you skipped, every time you stumbled, every moment you leaned on Ichiru because you wouldn’t come back to me. Do you think I did that because I was worried about what might happen to someone else?”
“I thought—” Zero’s voice is barely a whisper. “I thought you just wanted—”
“Sex?” Kaname finishes. “Access to your body? Is that all you think this was?”
Zero doesn’t answer, just stares up at him with an expression so vulnerable and confused that Kaname has to look away for a moment to maintain his composure.
“You’re the most infuriating person I’ve encountered in ten thousand years,” Kaname says finally, his gaze returning to Zero’s face. “And I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop watching you. I can’t stop wanting you near me even when you’re being deliberately self-destructive.”
Zero makes a choked sound and his walls clench down hard. “Why?”
“I favor you,” Kaname says, and the simplicity of it feels both inadequate and perfectly accurate. “More than I should. More than is convenient or reasonable. And watching you nearly destroy yourself while thinking I only cared because of someone else has been slowly driving me insane.”
Zero’s throat works and more tears track down his temples. “I don’t understand.”
“I know,” Kaname says, and something in his chest aches at the admission. “But you’re going to. I’m going to make sure you understand exactly how much this has nothing to do with anyone but you.”