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“Epel!”
A clear commanding voice pierced the silence of the morning. The wooden door of the church swung open violently as the lavender-haired boy ran out.
“Epel! I told you! You need to….! Don’t run in the halls! Epel!!”
Vil emerged from the entrance after the boy. His black tunic dress and veil swayed as he briskly walked to chase the boy, a much less elegant sight from his usual demeanour for sure. He sighed with frustration as Epel disappeared into the town. The boy always disobeyed him and ground on his nerves, before and after they had settled here but he could never leave him behind. Epel was always his responsibility too. He felt an overwhelming sense of dread and fear as the footsteps behind him approached. Before he could move to retrieve the boy, a hand on his shoulder stopped him, the touch inducing a slight flinch.
“It is okay, Vil. Epel doesn’t have to help me. I can do it myself and, he can take his time.” Rook’s smile stretched from ear to ear as he felt the slight flinch.
”That was not what we agreed on...!”
He took in the slight increase in intensity of Vil’s gaze as he mentioned Epel. He enjoyed how Vil put up the charade. How naive. He was practically laying bare in front of the priest. “He must feel out of place, nervous and unsure. A change of plan can be arranged for you two, my beautiful Vil. “The priest sighed dramatically, “It would be cruel to force him if he was unwilling. After all you two just settled here after all. BEAUTE!! Truly, truly MERVEILLEUX! The bond of two of you share!”
“The sun is still out.” Vil did not turn around but his amethyst eyes turned to look at his face.
“The town has a lot of shade. You don’t have to worry. The outfit I found for him has him covered well. You approved it too, didn’t you? Hmm…... just like yours.” Rook’s hand moved in a playful manner, gliding along Vil’s jawline to adjust the veil so it was blocking the sunlight on Vil’s face as the priest hummed with joy.
“It is you who I am worried about, Vil. You haven’t eaten for a while.”
“I am doing fine, Rook.” An icy tight-lipped smile adorned Vil’s face as he responded. He was actually quite famished. The marks and injuries from these days have not healed. The slight sunlight just now was burning on his skin. The weakness and fatigue were seeping in. Especially with the presence of crosses around him, everything felt worse.
“I see.” The gaze from the emerald orb was intense despite the smile never leaving Rook’s lips. “You know, Vil, I spend time observing you more than anyone else. Even include you. How your eyebrows furrow slightly, and how your undereye darken and sunken. The signs never escape me. It just hurt me to see you in pain, even if you look so beautiful like this.” Rook’s hands pulled back. He sighed with melancholy as he continued. “But I trust your judgement. You are free to do as you like, my beautiful Vil” He turned his back on Vil as he went back into the church.
After all, there was a man-made river around the town then. They could not cross running water if they wanted to. It was a fact that was painful for Vil but wonderful for Rook
Rook was sitting on his bed, patiently waiting. His enigmatic smile deepened as Vil entered his rectory. He was amused as he sensed the reluctance in Vil’s crisp heel clicks but he also sensed the sense of longing. Vil needed his blood as much as he needed the strength and power that came with it. Vil stopped in the track and just stared at Rook from the doorway. More specifically, Rook’s cross over his chest. Even as he felt powering discomfort, he still hid them under his stoic graceful façade. His protective armour.
“The experiments had worked well. It seemed you felt better being around crosses today. Nonetheless, you are safe with me. Don’t be afraid, mon chéri.” The priest took in Vil’s response and took off the necklace, placing the cross on his nightstand. His green eyes never left Vil’s face as he moved as he reached out his hand to welcome Vil into his arms.
He knew what he was doing. Vil thought bitterly. The cross was barely out of reach from Rook and there was no way Vil could bite his neck from here. The repel would be too strong for him to handle. He had to drink from the priest’s wrist. Like when Vil did during his captivity. How he was treated like a puppy craving his treat from his master. What a degrading feeling. Shamefully he was in no position to refuse. What if he was exhausted and went into deep sleep? Epel would be alone and Vil could not protect him. Epel knew how to evade the townspeople but he was no match for the hunter.
“You are bold to provoke me. I am sure you are aware of the repercussions.”
Under these circumstances, Vil was still able to maintain his icy cruel smile. His taunts drips with loathing. He would get back at him one way or another, He would be the poison that burn all the way down. With a crisp snag, Vil tore open Rook’s sleeve and undressed the bandages around his muscular wrist. There were several cuts and scars present from their endeavours before. Humans take so much longer to heal. It was at times like this he was reminded the priest was still human, no matter how unbelievable it seemed.
“You are fine with doing this in the house of your god? What kind of priest are you?”
“Non, non. The Lord created all things beautiful. He created you too after all, so there is nothing wrong with what I am doing… Hmm… And I am sure out of anyone, you would know what kind of priest I am, my beautiful Vil.”
Rook’s smile was ever so beaming and gleeful. It was clear he enjoyed the challenge and the thrill. He wondered what Vil would do this time. As the fang swiftly niped into the flesh, Vil could hear a quiet but joyous sigh left Rook’s lips. The vampire found his way to Rook’s vein with much precision and grace. The aphrodisiac has not kicked in yet, clearly, this man was turned on by being bitten by him and having his blood vessel pricked open, like being hunted by the predator. His blood has the most enchanting taste Vil has ever drunk. Every time Vil fed on Rook it felt blissful and satiated his body with immense power. As Vil started to drink, the room fell into silence. Only the priest’s breathing and heartbeat were heard. It was strangely even and tranquil. It was almost like the priest was not affected by the aphrodisiac at all. Abruptly, Vil felt the gloved hand under his chin move, his fingers lifting his face up gently and forcing their eyes to meet.
“Look into my eyes while you drink, will you, mon chéri? I want to drown in your beautiful eyes.”
At the moment when their gaze locked, Vil saw the glaring passion in Rook’s eyes. The aphrodisiac from the vampire’s fang was affecting his body after all, despite the calm heartbeat and breathing. But felt scorching on him, like the sensation when sunlight was mercilessly cast on his skin. Rook’s gaze feels so intense like a ravenous predator ready to pounce, juxtaposing the pleading words leaving the priest’s lips. The first instinct was to look away but he just could not do it. He was still feeding from the priest’s wrist. But he was glad he was not able to. His pride was eager to fight back. Vil returned Rook’s gaze with fervent intensity, much to the priest's amusement. The more he drank under those glaring eyes the hotter he felt. He could feel his wounds and marks slowly closing and healing. The weakness in his body left him to be replaced with euphoria that washed over his body. He had to stop drinking for the time being to stop how overwhelming the sensation felt. Vil doesn’t want to give in. He could feel the priest’s finger dancing along his jawline, tickling him and unbuttoning the collar of Vil’s tunic, revealing the upper potion of his neck. The vampire’s hand swiftly caught Rook’s hand, giving it a warning squeeze.
“Let’s see how your wounds heal.” Rook’s breath hitched as he felt the tight squeeze. He gave it a strong tug, surprising the vampire and forcing Vil to lean forward.
“Come at me with all you have, priest.” If this is the dance the priest desired, then it shall be.
“What a beautiful dance you have offered me, my beautiful Vil!”
They wrestled on the bed for control. Vil was fiercely fighting back. Just one more drink. If he drank again, he would gain more power. His canine tooth slashed and nipped the skin as he fought to drink. Vil grunted with great frustration but Rook just let out husky chuckles during the struggle.
“I have caught you, mon chéri.”
“…!...If you are going to fight me, at least do it seriously!”
Eventually, Rook managed to pin Vil face down on the bed, using his weight to hold the vampire in place, restraining both of Vil’s hands. His body felt like a scorching fire compared to Vil’s cold vampire body. The heat was so unbearable. The priest’s body was deceptively muscular and heavy. Being in the proximity of the cross seemed to dull his strength as well. What a shame. He would be elated to tear the priest apart piece by piece and reduce him to a bloody mess. His smouldering gaze did not waver ever so slightly Rook purred next to Vil’s ear excitedly. So excitedly he could feel the priest’s warm elated pants brushing against his cold skin, sending a shiver down his spine.
Abruptly, a stinging pain stabbed through Vil’s hands while the knife fixed both of them onto the wooden bed frame. The vampire trembled from the searing tingle in his hands. His blood rolled down his ivory hands and dripped onto the bed sheet in front of him. He bit his lips tightly to hold back the pain, only letting out a guttural pained groan. Vil felt his head being forced down while a foreign warm ticklish sensation trailed along the fresh stab wound, a flexible muscle teasing and kneading the wound slightly.
This sick man was licking the wound and tasting his blood. And he could feel a hot hardened erection pressed against between his legs. The aphrodisiac was in his bloodstream for a while now and he was clearly affected by it. How did he manage to think straight until now? Every day Vil would be astounded by the depravity this priest would sink into.
“Are you even truly human, Rook Hunt?”
“Hmm…Perhaps. But anyone would worship your beauty, non? Even if in an unconventional way.”
Rook just hummed with amusement as he savoured the taste. His fingers trailed along the back of Vil’s neck to the front, unbuttoning the collar of the vampire’s tunic and revealing his slender ivory neck. The flesh was pale and there was no trace of the bite before.
“Truly exquisite my beautiful Vil. How your flesh healed so quickly from my blood.” His fingers mischievously danced across Vil's silky skin, feeling the blood vessels under the surface. Rook grabbed Vil’s hair with the nun's headdress. He wanted to see Vil’s contorted face and savour the sight. his lips whisper against the vampire’s ear. “Do you feel my love for you nourishing and healing you from your inside? How romantic, don’t you think? You are back to a blank canvas now. So beautiful… and so pristine.” The priest’s voice trailed off and grew soft with each syllable as he continued to kiss the back of the vampire’s neck before abruptly biting down forcefully from the side to draw blood, eliciting groans from the vampire. With the pain from the hand and the bites, it was becoming too much to bear. Vil had never encountered a man like Rook before in his life. To the priest, the blood was not a necessity but he was endlessly fascinated by Vil’s blood. He enjoyed biting Vil and tasting his blood, leaving trails of bite marks and hickeys along the way.
“You can always drink from me, mon amour. My cup overflows.”
The pain and the tingle were coupled with a numbing weakness as time went on. The metal of the blade continued to poison the vampire’s flesh, as he felt the poisoned blood flowing through his body. He needed to wiggle free bit by bit. Vil was silent besides his muffled groans and struggle but Rook did not mind that. He just observed Vil’s reaction and continued to unbutton Vil’s tunic gently, he worshipped every inch of the exposed skin with his tongue and lips. Vil’s beauty was exceptional to begin with. His allure had such otherworldly charm, waiting to be both worshipped or defiled. But no matter how much Rook ruined him, with a drink of his blood, Vil would be healed again. Knowing it was his blood, his love nourishing him back to his health, just like those marks and wounds healed were left by him, excited Rook to no end. There was no way to take off Vil’s tunic without freeing him but Rook did not mind. It would be nice to leave the scent of him on Vil.
As he continued to ravish Vil’s body, his skilful fingers tickled the scar on the inside of Vil’s left thigh, eliciting a muffled frustrated groan from Vil. R. H, His initials are left on him. His keepsake. A reminder that would never heal. Something Vil will always remember him with. He could play with the scar for hours but it was clear some other part of Vil demanded his attention. Through Vil’s struggle, he reached into the tunic and grabbed the handful of the vampire’s erection, the heat and the force sending shivers down Vil’s spine. The numbness was affecting his thoughts now. He needed to hurry.
“Oh la la. To think you are as eager as me, my beautiful Vil, you touch me greatly with your affection. I hope you have not waited too long for my carnal affection.” Rook purred against Vil’s ears as he continued to stroke the hardened arousal. No matter the state Vil was in, his body was always cold but his hitched pants and glistened member told another story. The vampire was like an untamed cold fire, which intrigued Rook deeply. His gloved hands, wet with the essence of Vil’s precum, produced embarrassing squeaks while he stroked. The pain intertwined with the pleasure, creating a blend of weird sensations that were too much to bear.
“Must you make……make those sounds when you do it?” A tinge of redness tinted Vil’s face and the tip of his ears as Rook stroked. His voice was a blend of arousal and embarrassment. He still did not know what the priest did to him to make him aroused from drinking his blood nor did he appreciate how Rook forced himself on him. He just could not help to feel flustered by the sound. It felt so dirty and embarrassing. Vil was not any coy person by any means but Rook sure knew how to push his buttons. He could feel the heat radiating from Rook’s gloved hands. He felt his body burning up with the heat. The lust that was pushed down by him was resurfacing again, against his will. As the movements around his length continued, Vil tried to bear with it and slowly wiggled his hands trying to free himself.
“There is nothing to be embarrassed about, mon amour. These are merely songs of our affection. Just like the beautiful sounds leaving your lips.” Rook was content with the result. How hard and needy Vil’s arousal was. It was practically crying and begging for release, no matter how conflicted Vil was and how much he tried to fight it. But Rook wanted more. He always wanted more of Vil.
Suddenly, the knife was withdrawn. Vil can finally move again. His breath was hitched in disbelief as the priest’s crazed emerald eyes appeared in his view. He was turned around and he could feel a hot tip prodding against his wet entrance, forcibly kissing it. Despite the poison flowing in his veins and the cross weakening him, Vil tried to push the priest away as the scorching girthy member thrusted into him, forcing the tight muscles away inside him. The vampire was stopped abruptly, shuddering as he was filled up whole and letting out a trembling whimper. Vil felt like he was split into two. The heat pooled in the body with the blended sensation of pain and pleasure felt maddening, as much as he did not want it from the priest. The heat reminded the time he was a human, reminding the good memories during those times he thought he had long forgotten. It felt intoxicating and dangerously tempting. It felt even more difficult to fight back with the effect of the poison, too.
Rook cradled the vampire in his arms, kissing and cooing him gently, much unlike the cruel and crazed action he had done before. “Magnifique. My beautiful Vil. It astounds me always how you took me in and embraced me every time. So beautifully too… my gentle little lamb.” He kissed Vil’s soft silky face and licked Vil’s tears away. He knew Vil was conflicted. Vil was caught in his web, struggling to break free of the restraint and the intertwined pain and pleasure bestowed upon him. As much as Rook loved to play with him, savouring the beautiful loathing Vil harboured for him, he wanted to make Vil fall in love with him, giving himself willingly one day perhaps. Either way, it would be an intricate dance that Rook prepared to die for.
As the vampire stopped trembling and breath slightly returned to normal, Rook started to grip Vil’s slender waist forcefully to move inside him, eliciting more moans and hitched breath. Each time Rook’s girthy length buried deep inside him, he could feel his inside being pushed apart, squeezing down on him along the way. It was so hot, juxtaposing Vil’s cold body. He felt he was heated up with each thrust. Vil’s hole was so wet, coating Rook with his fluid cooling him and producing moist shameful sounds. Rook always knew what he was doing. Despite the vampire being aware and confident with his sexuality, the priest always knew how to make him feel flustered and embarrassed. And his body welcomed his tease and pleasure, to his dismay. The effect of the poison was not helping either.
“Look how ravishing you are, my beautiful Vil…” Rook was so quiet all of a sudden, unlike his usual demeanour. As he kept thrusting into Vil, he observed Vil with attentive glaring eyes, not missing a single movement, sound or expression change as he smashed into the deepest point inside the vampire. Only very rarely he will whisper into Vil’s ear with his husky voice, complimenting him and pointing out the smallest change to make him flustered. Small changes Vil would feel imperfect about.
“How your hair became undone. how dishevelled you are.”
Vil’s amethyst eyes were clouded with pleasure and with each time his lip parted, delicious pants and moans slipped out. There was no way to hide it. Rook knew how good he was feeling. He barely hid from Rook’s gaze usually and there was no way he could do it now. No matter how much he tried to push him away Rook could feel how wet and tight he was. His inside grabbed onto Rook’s huge throbbing arousal with great eagerness. He was close too. He could not hold back any longer. It appeared it was the same for the priest. Vil’s inner walls clenched down on Rook like a passionate and angry fist, promising to milk every bit of essence out of him. Vil could feel the scorching arousal inside him twitching with anticipation. Just like how Vil’s was glistening with precum, swaying around with each movement. As the priest prodded around the vampire, he began to pound into the soft spot he liked to abuse. Vil could not help but yelp and scream with pleasure. He could no longer think and choked on his moans as Rook mercilessly attacked his weak spot. The room was filled with moans and grunts of euphoria. It really felt like a song of their passion together.
He could feel the priest’s gloved strong hands wrapping around his slender neck and squeezing tightly. It was something Rook loved to do. Vil began to wriggle around like a fish out of water, with each breath air was expelled from him. His eyes rolled back and drool leaked from the sides of his mouth as Vil struggled to take a breath and replace the air he lost. His face was wet with drool, tears and sweat as Rook had not shown any sign of stopping the forceful thrusts. Vil felt like his consciousness melting away.
“Ah… It is a shame you are not able to see how beautiful you are now, Vil. You are a sight for sore eyes. So dishevelled, ruined and yet so breathtakingly beautiful.”
With the final thrust, Rook buried himself deep into Vil and they both climaxed together. A screeched pressed groan left Vil’s tightly squashed throat. His now warm body tensed up and his spine arched with ecstasy in Rook’s arms. Vil shivered violently as the hot essence poured inside him. His round delicate toes curled up as he continued to shiver. It was only then, that Rook slowly lost the grip on Vil’s neck, breathing heavily and raggedly. As air entered Vil’s windpipe again, a screeched unnatural sound left his lips. He was still deep in the trance. With glee, Rook admired the state Vil was in and the mark he left on the vampire’s neck. With ragged breaths, He hungrily feasted on Vil’s raw beauty. A deep crimson strangulation mark around the previous unmarred canvas. It looped around the vampire’s neck like a collar.
Rook’s gaze was soft, filled with adoration. The blazing spark has not left his eyes. Not yet. But perhaps it was too much for the poisoned vampire. It was nothing to be worried about though. Rook bit into the inside of his cheek and kissed Vil’s soft lips. He guides Vil’s tongue with his, taking in the blood that poured into his mouth. Their tongue intertwined and squished together. It felt almost romantic. As Vil’s breath slightly returned to normal, Rook held his wrist to Vil’s mouth so the vampire could drink from his wrist again. It saddened Rook in a way to see the mark he left gone, but he was also anticipating the time he could mark Vil again. As the wounds and the bruises healed and Vil’s consciousness returned to him, Rook smiled. After massaging his Initial he left on Vil's thigh lovingly, he grabbed Vil's waist and began to move inside the vampire again. The priest purred lovingly against Vil’s neck.
“Drink from my cup, my beautiful Vil. Allow me to shepherd you to salvation.”
You are always so beautiful. So dependable and strong. So full of life.
No matter what happened, how struggling it might be, you always dealt with everything with such grace and poise. I would be lying if I said this is what I wanted to be from the beginning but there is no denying that people are drawn to you because of that. Including me.
I hated how strict and demanding you were with me. We fought all the time. Now I see how foolish and naive I was.
I don’t want to disobey you ever again. No matter how demanding and strict you will be with me. I will wait for the day you teach me your ways again. I want to protect you too. I need to be tough and dependable.
But why?
But why are you helping him?
Weren’t you dealt with the brunt of his cruelty?
Epel ran back to the church as soon as he could after dark. He felt guilty about running away like that. He thought he would be more obedient to his mentor’s demands now. If he could he would run back as soon as possible but it was exceptionally sunny in the afternoon. He worried about Vil deeply but his outfit was not enough and he had to hide in the shade in the town until dusk.
He just could not do it. His heart hurt like it was being stabbed as Vil asked him to carry out the priest’s request. The duty of the altar boy as his mentor relayed. He had participated. He stayed because he would never let his mentor alone with the priest. He let them dress him up. It has been bottling up and he just could not take it. How could he? How could he follow through and help the man who trapped them and hurt his mentor like this?
It was when he entered the church that he heard it. It was faint but it was shocking and sounded like thunder to Epel. The moans and grunts came from the room at the back of the church. The rectory. He could hear it clearly using his keen vampire senses. There was no mistake in it. No matter how much he wanted to deny it.
He wanted to run away but his feet moved forward. It was as if he was hypnotised. He ran away before, he did not want to run away again. Before he could stop himself, he was in front of the door of the rectory. Perhaps he was wrong? Perhaps he just needed to get closer and he could hear it more clearly. Epel’s fair complexion was tinted with redness as he was listening to the lewd sound coming out of the door.
How could it be?
Are you truly happy with him, Vil-san?
Was this what you wanted? Was I wrong? I just want to protect you.
I don’t want to be wrong again.
Epel bit his lips and sunk to his feet slowly. He grabbed his hair with frustration. He wanted the noises gone from his head but they were just continuously flowing into his ears.
What if Vil-san was hurt? I need to be there. I have to be there if he was. I cannot repeat my mistake again.
It felt like an eternity as the sounds and ragged breathing slowed down to be gradually replaced with soft even breathing. Steadily and surely, he could only hear Vil’s pants breathing then. Was the priest gone? There was no one else in the rectory now.
“Vi——”
Epel’s voice was caught in his throat just like his steps were frozen in place as the wooden door swung open. A very large shadow engulfed his petite frame in darkness. There he was. Rook was standing in the doorway, blocking the light from the rectory and Epel’s view into the room. He was not even slightly out of breath. There it was, the familiar wide smile on the priest’s face. How was he not able to detect the breath and footsteps of the priest?
“Monsieur pommette! Vil and I were worried about you. We are happy to have you back. It would pain me greatly to see you lost or harmed.”
Epel opened his mouth but nothing came out. It felt as if his voice was gone. The priest just continued. After all, the boy was very easy to read.
“Worry not, Epel. Vil is in safe hands. Why don’t you come to me tomorrow? It is late after all. I will show you how to prepare the incense then.”
Indeed, he had lost track of time during his turmoil. He could hear the calm breath of his mentor, almost as if he was sleeping. Epel would have burst in and checked himself, as hot-headed as he was. But was he ready? Was he ready for the truth after what he had heard?
“Now, go upstairs and rest for the night, will you? If you need me, I am just a floor away.”
Rook’s tone was always gentle and supportive with him. It was foreign and comforting for him then but now it just sounded ominous, sending shivers down his spine. The hunter has seen the hesitation and fear in his eyes. He just smiled brightly and stepped back, wishing Epel good night as he closed the door slowly.
They both knew. Rook knew he could not hurt Epel, with him around his mentor would never leave but Epel knew he could not hurt him either. He had long forgotten things Vil had instilled into him. If his mentor had a hard time, what could he do? Especially with everything that happened, was that still something his mentor would wish for?
I wanted to be dependent and strong for you. I want to protect you. So what should I do?