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Komaeda could feel Kamukura's eyes on every one of his movements. He was already so aware of everything, but now he seemed to be paying Komaeda even more attention than usual. It made him hyper aware of his own movements, his autopilot interrupted.
It didn't help that he was already a bit shaky either. Still, even if he felt awkward, he knew exactly what he was doing. He'd make Kamukura's coffee exactly the same every day for almost as long as he'd known the man. He was always awake before him, so it only made sense for him to try and ease the morning transition as best as he could for his beloved. Or rather, the evening transition.
The sun had fully dipped below the horizon, but there was still a bit of light left, lighting the clouds into a dusty purple. Komaeda opened the flimsy curtains above the sink, the dirty glass not doing much to let the spare bit of light in.
Komaeda could still feel the staring as he put everything away. Sugar went back into the cupboard, the jar straightened neatly. Milk in the fridge of course, and then the coffee maker pushed back into the corner under the cupboard.
He held the coffee mug with both hands, the heat seeping into his ice cold skin and muscles. The tiny detail was one of the highlights of his day, the physical and metaphorical warmth of serving Kamukura.
Kamukura never talked this early in the morning, and that was fine with Komaeda. Just being in his presence was enough as he sat the coffee in front of him and pressed a kiss to the top of the other's dark hair. His movements stuttered for a moment, Kamukura's scent flooding his senses. He lingered in his personal space a moment longer than he should have, the sweet, earthy smell making his head spin. Kamukura shifted, and Komaeda came back to his senses quickly, taking a clumsy step back.
“M-My apologies…” He stuttered out, voice muted as he took his seat across from Kamukura. He tried not to stare, tried to ignore the way the moment had kick-started the hunger he'd been trying so hard to ignore. He drummed his fingers against his leg under the table, unable to tear his eyes away from the spot between where Kamukura's hair and sweater met, the empty space between revealing the soft skin just above his collar bone.
He knew that Kamukura was picking up on his shameful behavior, even if he didn't comment. He watched a little too closely when Kamukura's perfect lips parted and pressed against the smooth ceramic of the mug. He watched the way he swallowed, all the muscles and tendons in his throat working.
It was disgusting of him, he knew, to even imagine the taste. To wonder where he'd drink from first, to wonder how that skin would feel beneath his fangs. To think of tenderly licking and kissing away any mess he made. He wouldn't kill Kamukura, of course he would never. But even just wanting the smallest taste was too much and he knew it. How terrible of him to even dream of even scratching Kamukura's skin, much less tearing through him in such a way. After all he's done to provide for Komaeda, giving him a purpose in his long, wayward life as his partner.
Komaeda was curling in on himself, the thoughts feeling like a black hole inside of his chest. His stomach hurt, a combination of guilt and hunger swirling together. His fingers stopped twitching, instead sharp nails dug into his skin.
“You'll eat after this,” Kamukura spoke up, and Komaeda jumped, managing to drag his gaze towards Kamukura's face. The words were comforting and simple, but still Komaeda's mind stalled.
“There's no need Kamukura, I wouldn't want to waste any of your precious time.”
Kamukura had hunted for him before, in the quick and efficient way he did everything else. But still, even with all of his prowess, his life was so feeble next to Komaeda's. The last thing he wanted to do was waste any of it.
“It won't take long. I can see you shaking from here.” Kamukura's words were matter-of-fact, not meant to bruise whatever was left of Komaeda's ego. Komaeda was well and familiar with this, but still shrunk slightly at how badly he had hidden it.
“I promise, there's really no reason to worry about me, love.” He hoped the sweet name would help to convince Kamukura, but it was clear it wasn't working, and his coffee was nearly gone now.
The look Kamukura gave him was hard to look away from, even with as ashamed as Komaeda was.
“I already am, dear,” Kamukura replied simply, reflecting the sweetness back before taking the last drink of his coffee.
Komaeda didn't argue after that, even if he wanted to. He held his tongue as Kamukura stood, and he trailed after him towards the bedroom. Long dark hair nearly trailed on the ground as he followed, until Kamukura sat on the bed and gathered it all behind him.
This little routine helped to calm Komaeda slightly, as he took the hair brush from the bedside table and sat behind Kamukura cross legged. The chain that hung around his neck pooled in his lap with a muffled clatter. He ran his fingers through the dark tresses first, looking for any spots that might be particularly tangled. When there weren't any, he sectioned off a chunk and began working the brush through, starting at the bottom first. There was a quiet hum from Kamukura as he leaned his head back for better access.
Komaeda was doing his best to focus on this ritual of the moment rather than the way their closeness made his stomach quietly grumble. Kamukura's hair was always soft, even before Komaeda was done with it. He'd seen the way Kamukura resisted anyone else touching it, even when Junko tried to invade his space and tangle her hands in. It was something only Komaeda got to have, and he tried to focus on how nice that privilege felt instead of the way every flick of the brush sent a wave of hunger through him, almost stopping his movements entirely from time to time. Kamukura's questioning didn't help much either.
“When did you last eat?”
“Ah, I'm not sure exactly,” Komaeda admitted, his grip on the hair brush tightening, “Four days or so, I think.”
“Your cognitive function will improve if you take better care of your body,” Kamukura responded pointedly, eyes opening for a moment to look up at Komaeda.
It was a conversation they'd had before a few times, and the face Komaeda made was all Kamukura needed for confirmation, so he quieted himself once again. He didn't need to speak anymore on it, not wanting to truly shame Komaeda. He just wanted to make his point clear.
Soon, Kamukura's hair was fully detangled, falling across Komaeda's lap in silky waves. He ran his fingers through it, selfishly trying to make the moment last longer, as much as it tested his self-control.
Kamukura stood then, turning and leaning down to kiss Komaeda's forehead, a quiet thanks. His hair cascaded around the both of them, and Komaeda almost had to hold his breath. And then Kamukura sat down again, facing towards Komaeda now. Komaeda tilted his head, confused. If Kamukura was going out to hunt, he should do it soon. It wouldn't be long before others were prowling for their meals.
Kamukura met his confused gaze, and in usual fashion, spoke directly to the point.
“I’d like for you to feed from me today.” He moved his hair as he spoke, pulling it all to one side, leaving his neck and shoulder exposed.
Had Komaeda's heart still been beating, it would have skipped then. His voice caught in his throat, and it took everything in him to stay perfectly put. Kamukura was quiet as he watched Komaeda try to speak, try to gather himself.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn't- I can't do that to you, lovely, I really can't.” Despite the protests, he couldn't help the way he was eyeing Kamukura up, eyes flicking away rapidly whenever he felt he'd been looking too long, too intently.
“I’ve heard countless rumours about it, and I’d like to confirm or deny them for myself,” Kamukura continued on, “Besides, it's something you need, and need quite urgently from what I can tell. It's something I can do for you, rather than the other way around.”
Komaeda was having a hard time focusing on Kamukura's words, but he shook his head quickly once he'd finished.
“No, no, there's no need, there's no reason for you to do anything for me, and I can't-” Komaeda's voice caught in his throat, “I can't hurt you, I could never hurt you like that.”
Komaeda's chest felt tight, anxious. His body was fighting against him, leaning in slightly closer than he should, mouth falling slightly open to reveal just the tips of his fangs. Kamukura reached out, and Komaeda flinched back before Kamukura took his cheek in hand, letting him rest his weight there. It was comforting and stressful at the same time, making him feel dizzy and lost.
Kamukura's thumb pressed against Komaeda's lip, pushing it up to better show his fangs. He didn't move, frozen in place. It was all he could do to control himself. His thumb pressed into his mouth, the thicker pad of it pressing hard against the sharp edge of his fang and swiping, leaving a long gash behind and blood pooling directly into Komaeda's mouth.
Instinct took over in less than a second, and Komaeda was suckling on the wound like his life depended on it. Kamukura let it happen, just watching for a few minutes before he used his other hand to pry Komaeda's jaw open. He grabbed his chain in the same movement, yanking him forward until his lips met his shoulder, and his fangs quickly found purchase, sinking into skin easily.
Komaeda's head was spinning, unable to do anything but focus on the sweet taste spilling into his mouth. He swallowed greedily, licking at the skin between mouthfuls. His arms found a way to wrap around Kamukura, claws digging into Kamukura's back and shoulders. He couldn't stop, even as guilt wormed into his gut, he couldn't pull away. He had to force himself to remember to breathe in between swallows.
He was weak, disgusting, pitiful, and he knew it. Tears were welling in his eyes. His self control was cracked open so easily, and now he was hurting his beloved with no sign of stopping. He wanted to hate it so badly, but everything about Kamukura was so intoxicating in this moment.
Kamukura was mostly quiet, a few low groans leaving his throat. He kept one hand on the chain hanging from Komaeda's neck, but the other uninjured one laced into his wispy white hair, combing through it soothingly
“It's alright angel, take what you need,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of Komaeda's head. It had only hurt for the first moment, but then some sort of numbing agent seemed to take hold. It only seemed to numb the immediate area, but it made the rest of his body feel light.
He wasn't exactly sure how much time had passed, but it couldn't have been too long when Komaeda pulled away, only slightly. Kamukura could feel tears rolling down his back as Komaeda took a heaving breath. Timid licks were pressed down his collarbone and chest, cleaning the warm blood that had spilled there.
“I-I’m so sorry, lovely, I lost control, I should have done better, I swear, I promise it w-won’t happen again.” His words came out in gasps, stumbling over each other in his rush.
Kamukura pressed a gentle palm to Komaeda's chest, pushing him into an upright position. He wiped the tears from his face, the blood from the corners of his lips. There was still more running down his chin, but Kamukura didn't want to fuss too much just yet.
“It's alright, sweetheart, there's no need for all that.” Kamukura's voice was uncharacteristically gentle, and Komaeda knew it was forced, an unnatural thing for him, but he tried to let it comfort him anyways.
“Have I ever asked you to do something unsafe, or you weren't capable of?” Kamukura asked. Komaeda shook his head slowly, struggling to meet Kamukura's eye.
He knew it was true, and it did soothe him slightly, slowly the spiral of self-hate that he'd been dragging himself down.
“Do you feel better now, physically?”
Komaeda nodded, sniffling still but his breath had mostly slowed. He wiped the last of the tears from his face, looking at Kamukura through blurry lashes. He didn't deserve any of the kindness Kamukura afforded him, but he couldn't help but soak in it.
“Then let's get you cleaned up the rest of the way.”