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Weeks. For weeks he and this hunter had been circling each other, slowly but surely tightening the loop. Brushing shoulders at parties and exchanging pleasant conversation, then hiding round corners as Chad investigates his last meal.
He hadn’t known it was Chad the first two times, but the third he risked a peek, and saw him standing there. That broad-shouldered silhouette he had come to know, different, in a bomber jacket and not the suits he was used to, but the same nonetheless.
He wasn’t sure when Chad had figured out it was him, maybe he had always known, maybe he had flashed him a too-wide smile, but he had.
And now he was at his doorstep.
Rex watches through the camera as Chad tries to convince the front desk to let him up to his penthouse. He holds down the buzzer.
"Let him up," he says.
On screen the person working the front desk jumps, then hesitantly replies. "Are you sure? He-"
"I am. Let him up."
Once he sees them let Chad through, he gets up and leaves his office, making a detour to the kitchen for a glass and a bottle of wine before heading to the living room. He sits in the chair directly facing the entrance, pours himself a glass, and waits.
It takes a few minutes, but he eventually hears a heartbeat come closer, then stop outside his door. Right when he thinks he’ll have to call out that it’s unlocked, Chad tries the doorknob and opens it. If he’s startled by Rex waiting, it doesn’t show, just stands there, shoulders squared. He’s wearing his bomber jacket.
“Most people would consider you dropping by unannounced rude,” Rex says.
He doesn’t respond, just steps inside and closes the door behind him.
“Cat got your tongue?” Rex quips with a sly smile.
“Do you know why I’m here?” Chad asks, moving carefully further into the room. Rex doesn’t blame him, he’s faster and stronger and Chad is only human.
“I have an idea,” Rex says. He raises his glass to mouth and lets the wine touch his lips, but doesn’t drink; lingering for a moment before pulling it away. Relaxed and unconcerned. “But I’d like to hear you say it.”
“You’re a vampire,” he says without hesitation.
“What gave it away?”
Chad watches him set his glass down. “You never ate or drank. You would pretend to, quite well, and I wouldn't have noticed if I didn’t know to look for it.”
Rex huffs a laugh and gives a small smile, idly tracing the rim of his glass with his finger. “Well, now my intimidation attempt looks silly.”
“Why do you kill?" Chad asks suddenly, the first traces of emotion since he arrived crossing his face. “You have the resources to get blood ethically, why would you kill anyone?”
There’s several answers Rex could go with: no one will miss them, they were no better than him, there's no such thing as ethical blood when he has to steal it; but instead he says. “It’s fun.”
This promptly ends their conversation, as Chad has crossed the room in a flash, drawing a wooden stake out from under his jacket. Rex hops the arm of his chair right before Chad plunges the stake down, tearing into the cushion.
"That was a rather expensive chair," Rex says.
Chad pulls the stake free, ripping the fabric further. He throws the stake at him, which he neatly sidesteps. It embeds itself in the wall. Chad gets another stake from under his jacket, and this time Rex spots the holster he's wearing under it, loaded with stakes. He bounds over the chair, swinging down with the stake, and Rex dodges and knocks it out of his hand.
He grabs hold of Chad's jacket and moves in for the kill, but Chad grabs his wrist and his skin burns . He yanks his hand back, and smoke trails lazily up from the new burn. He glares at Chad, who holds his hand up and shows off a silver ring with a small smile.
He backs up for space, but Chad doesn't follow. He's still, all smugness gone and replaced with this forlorn expression.
"You could be so much better," he says.
Rex is surprised, then laughs. A forced, astonished thing. "Don't tell me you fell for that party persona everyone else bought."
"It wasn't a persona I spoke to in the empty halls of those parties." Chad looks sad. Like he has the right to, like he knows anything about Rex.
Rage flares up in him, white hot and sharp against his ribcage. He lunges and Chad, who had yet to re-arm himself, can't move fast enough to get away. He twists Chad's arm behind his back with one hand, and with the other digs into Chad's side so he can't move away. Chad automatically leans back to try to ease some of the pain his arm must be in, but that only aids Rex by allowing him to put his mouth by the other's neck.
"I will admit you made those parties bearable, but that is something I can give up." Rex makes sure Chad can feel the scrap of his teeth, just enough pressure to not do damage, not yet. "You know, I did a little research on you, to find out why you're a hunter. And I think it's that missing sibling of yours. Shame you'll never find them now."
Chad breaks free of Rex's hold, slipping out of his jacket, but his arm doesn't go with him. He's stunned by the tight grip he still has on the arm despite Chad now facing him. So stunned, that he doesn't react as Chad gets another stake out. He presses the tip against Rex's chest until he's backing him up and pinning him against the wall. It takes Rex longer than it should to realize what he's still holding is a prosthetic arm.
"Not enough research apparently," Chad says. He must catch the look on Rex's face because he then glances down at his prosthetic. "I detached it while you were trying to upset me."
Rex doesn’t know what he's feeling. The energy thrumming through his body is almost enough to cause his heart to beat. He's caught and he's going to die, he's been outplayed, he's never had a hunter care about him beyond something to kill. There is a wooden stake digging into his chest and the person holding it there is upset about it.
The prosthetic arm falls from his grasp and he can't help it, he laughs, light and real.
Chad's expression shifts, unsure, and he tightens his hold on the stake.
"I take it back, this is fun," he says.
"This?" Chad questions, pressing the stake in harder for just a moment.
Rex ignores the question. "What if we do this? I'll have blood ethically for the next month, and if you can catch me again I'll do it for the next month."
"And if I don't catch you?" Chad asks.
"Then I'll kill."
Chad glares. "If you think I'll risk someone's life so you can have fun-"
"You won't be," he interupts, voice quieter than intended. "You'll catch me." He's not letting himself think about how he wants to be caught.
Chad searches his face, most likely looking for some sign of a trick or dishonestly, peering closer, getting closer, until he's kissing him.
This time Rex doesn't let shock stop him, and kisses him back. The stake falls from Chad's hand and clatters noisily to the floor, and with it gone Chad shoves him even harder against the wall, hand over his undead heart.
Rex buries both hands in Chad's hair and pulls hard, and Chad groans before trying to deepen the kiss. But his lip catches on Rex's fang and cuts it, blood quickly spilling.
Chad pulls back and Rex feels oddly anxious. "That wasn't on purpose."
Chad kisses him again.