Archive of Our Own ^beta

His chest filled with the unfamiliar fluttering weight, so heavy yet uplifting, Vanitas diagnosed him running a fever at first. Noé's tanned forehead felt warm against the doctor's touch. Gloved pads slide down the vampire's cheek. Testing. To measure temperature purpose. Only.

Even without that, Noé could tell his face was burning. He felt it too. Just how he felt the swallow of his own saliva straining his throat. Vanitas urged him to open his mouth, he wanted to see.

And Noé wanted to kiss.

Thumbs, which did not belong to the vampire, were placed on either of his cheeks. Foreign hands tilted his head upward as Vanitas towered over him. Noé was kind enough to sit. And watch. Those focused pair of blues made his stomach flip. The doctor suspected gastritis at the complaint. Or food poisoning. Blood poisoning even, if it was ever a case.

Thus, he requested Noé to confess of whom he drank from in the past days. Noé admitted that from no one. 

When the inquiry regarding blood offering rose, Noé sheepishly confessed Chloé's name. Without consent, he added at the judgemental glance shoot in his direction. Explanation in vain. The raven shifted his weight on his footing, examining hands in retreat. Noé outstretched his arm, fingers curling around the doctor's elbow. Getting a hold of him. Unimaginable and stirring seed of fear, of not being able to reach Vanitas. Noé's grip tightened. The raven frowned, upper lip twitching into a grimace. Endearing.

Violet hues so soft like left-out butter on a hot summer day, irate blues like a useless kitchen knife slipped through instead of a proper cut. Dysfunctioning. 

Vanitas cast his gaze away, a single shoulder lifting in discomfort.

"Stop giving me that look."

"I always look at you like this."

"No, you don't."

No, he doesn't. Noé knew that much. They were both aware.

With a gentle tug, Noé invited the raven into his personal bubble. Vanitas shuffled in. Unhurrying. Eyes so blue Noé found himself drowning in them, like drowning in a bottomless ocean. Breathless and in so deep. Spellbound. 

"Dante is wrong..."

"When is he not?"

"You're not a quack but a witch."

Noé sounded so certain, Vanitas was left speechless. Without any comeback. 

"An enchanter," Noé fixed his previous statement in a whisper. He rose to his feet.

"Pft–ahahahaha!!!" Vanitas' joyful laughter rang in the room, loud and pure. The vampire tilted his head, adoringly. "You really are–" he started with a low chuckle before meeting a smile so fond, it trapped the doctor's rationality in a small box which was put away in a locked drawer.

Noé wanted to kiss him.

So he did.

Or, he thought he did. But the pouting lips of Vanitas crashed against his first, with elan it almost knocked the vampire off his feet. A strong pillowy push, gloved hand on his shoulder and a deep inhale that tickled Noé's white lashes somehow. The raven smelled sweet. Tasted dehydrated. Noé took a mental note to remind his comrade. Later.

After the awkward lingering ceased and Vanitas' tongue halted probing to sneak into his mouth through the mild gap of his lips. It was playful, ticklish, and grin stirring. As if an injected medicine worked in his system, the weight in his chest dissolved, filling the space with a light buzz. Vibrating through his veins.

Their eyes were open, watching one another intensely. 

Vanitas' hand rushed through his shoulder, up to the vampire's hair. He grabbed his white bangs and pulled the taller away from his mouth. Noé blinked in confusion while the flush on his facade was perfectly mirrored on Vanitas' features as well. Despite the pinkish shade, a challenging smirk adorned kissable lips.

"Hah! Be grateful I was willing to teach you something nice, Noé," breathtaking confidence.

"I can't recall asking for such a favor," he exhaled with a small smile. Gloved fingers tugged at his strands. "But I do prefer perfecting a skill once taught. Through practice."

Vanitas regarded him for a moment longer than the offer required. Longer enough, Noé wanted to squirm and roll on his bed as his inside churned. 

"Then, you are allowed to practice with me. Solely."

"What about when I graduate?"

"I will be the one deciding on your graduation date."

That was fine, but...

"Will you commit osculation with me solely?"

The wording tickled a chortle out of the human.

Noé's heart skipped a beat.

In anticipation.

And something more.

Vanitas tilted his chin upward with that overfamiliar grin of his as gleaming blues looked through the curtain of dark bangs. He yanked Noé closer with his grip on his hair. The warmth of his breath licked at the vampire's lips. It smelled like onion soup–

"Deal."

– and tasted all the same.