#kerminty

To add insult to injury, there are altogether too many eyes on him, and he can't quite suppress the feeling that he's freely presenting these creatures with their main course just by walking in. He mentally counts through every concealed weapon on his body to shake the thoughts. Then he straightens his jacket. He's a professional - there's no need to let his quarry get in his head.

One specific pair of eyes burns into him and it's like the sudden pull of a magnet, deeply familiar and as powerful as ever.

Nezumi swallows hard.

Shion is here.

Their eyes meet across the dance floor, and Nezumi winks. Shion fidgets, the way he always does when Nezumi flirts with him, and the sight makes Nezumi cast aside his misgivings for a brief moment. He crosses the dancefloor, heading straight for Shion, who mirrors the motion. They meet in the middle.

If Shion were any less of an airhead, Nezumi would have to worry about how decidedly un-subtle he's being. Thankfully, Shion is still the same person Nezumi’s gotten to know so well throughout their various encounters, and so they move past awkward pleasantries and straight to the banter.

"You're looking well," Shion says.

"Checking me out, are we?" Nezumi returns. If Shion had a beating heart, Nezumi’s sure it would send blood to his cheeks right now. As it stands, he settles for averting his eyes and lifting his shoulders just so.

"I was just surprised to see you in a suit," says Shion. A note of teasing enters his voice as he adds: "This might be the first time I've seen you in a shirt without any stains or rips, actually."

"I have plenty of good shirts," Nezumi lies, running through his few possessions in his mind and reluctantly finding that Shion's entirely right. Shion laughs softly. Nezumi can feel himself getting distracted.

A trumpet solo from the live band's stage comes to his rescue just then. The crowd hushes as one, letting the trumpet player finish her piece and then staying quiet as the host, Lady Lynette, steps onto the platform to welcome everyone. Nezumi barely listens; whether it's Lynette or Kara or whoever else, they're all the same to him. Each of them is either a current or future mark. In fact, over three-quarters of the people in this very room qualify as such. Every last vampire is his sworn enemy-

"Oh, please not the waltz," Shion whispers.

Every last vampire, but one.

"And now, my dear guests, please find yourself a partner," says Lady Lynette. "We'll be dancing a waltz!"

"It's your lucky day," Nezumi jokes to Shion, offering him a hand. Shion’s eyebrows go up comically quickly.

"But Nezumi," Shion says, "for you to be in a place like this... You've surely got recon to do, right?"

Yes. That's what Nezumi should say - yes, because this is an important mission, and he can't waste any more time than he already has. Yes, because vampires are the very things he’s sworn to destroy, and he really, really shouldn't be flirting with one, let alone dancing with him. Yes, because-

"It can wait," he says, trying his best to play it off as a joke. Judging by Shion's expression, it doesn’t quite work. Shion takes his hand. Nezumi leads the dance.

They make it through several bars before Shion steps on his foot, but Nezumi can't bring himself to pretend to be mad about it. It figures that Shion could make even this viper's den feel like a safe haven. Nezumi’s still trying not to laugh as Shion loses his balance again, bumping into another couple dancing their way. Shion apologizes; the vampire pair only acknowledge his existence to sneer down their noses at him.

"Friends of yours?" Nezumi murmurs.

"Not at all," Shion replies, his voice equally low. Nezumi snorts.

"Right, I almost forgot. I've met your one friend."

Shion makes a face. "Safu isn't my only friend."

"Then how'd you know I meant her?"

While Shion struggles to come up with a response, the back of Nezumi’s mind whispers that that couple had looked familiar. He watches them move away from the corner of his eyes when, all of a sudden, it clicks: those were supposed to be his targets tonight.

"Nezumi?" Shion says. It figures that he’d only be perceptive only at the most inconvenient of times.

"It's nothing," Nezumi tells him. "Focus on those two left feet of yours."

And Shion, damn it all, smiles a self-conscious smile that makes Nezumi feel like a child seeing the ocean for the first time. He presses his lips into a thin line, trying not to think about the cold pressure of Shion's hand in his, the way his own chest rises and falls against Shion's still one, the distinctly human glimmer in Shion's eyes.

Ah, those eyes.

If it weren't for those, Nezumi could carry out his work in peace. He could make a real name for himself. Better yet, he could give the vampire population something to fear, show them that humans can strike back. But no, instead of that, he has to be here, wondering whether Shion's eyes have always been this luminous shade of red like a lovestruck schoolchild. He sighs inwardly.

All too soon, the waltz comes to an end. Shion looks directly at him as the band holds the final note of the song; around them, several couples share a kiss. Nezumi feels the back of his neck start to heat up.

"Nezumi-" Shion starts, his voice half a question, and Nezumi can't take it. He detaches himself from Shion, taking a step back and then sweeping out of the room without one more word. All of the haughty vampires are surely judging him as he leaves. He hopes they all trip on their own over-inflated egos.

The night feels several degrees colder now, in the absence of the crowds inside the manor. Nezumi keeps going at a brisk pace, never breaking his stride until the gates are far behind him.

What's gotten into him?

Shion is one of them. Shion drinks blood - preys on humans - just the same as any thousand-year-old leech. If push came to shove, Shion would drink Nezumi’s own blood just as quickly, those naïve eyes be damned. And Nezumi’s stake could- it could-

Nezumi yanks his blazer off and throws it to the ground, sitting down on it and crossing his arms over his chest.

The old willow tree stays steady behind him as he leans against it. Nezumi breathes in the crisp night air, clamping down on his emotions, getting himself back under control. He can't keep letting Shion do this to him. Shion's still a vampire, even if he's a handsome and unusually charming one. That's what they do. They charm their prey to expend less energy chasing their meals down. It's basic survival.

"Sometimes, I wish you'd just talk to me," Shion says from behind him. Nezumi’s spine goes rigid.

"Don't sneak up on me," he snaps.

"I just wanted to see if you're alright."

"I'm doing great. Now can you leave?"

There's a rustle of clothes as Shion sits down next to him.

"No."

Nezumi sighs, deflating as the frustration leaves him. Is there a real point in resisting Shion? It feels like they're fated to end up meeting over and over, in a hundred different contexts. They might as well enjoy it.

"You're as stubborn as ever," says Nezumi, with no real bite.

"Me?" Shion says. Nezumi looks at him.

"You. I'm a vampire hunter, you know." Nezumi leans in closer. "I kill creatures like you."

Shion doesn't flinch away. "I do know that."

"And you're not scared?"

"Why would I be scared of you? I know you won't hurt me."

And Nezumi knows that's true.

Shion takes a turn to lean in closer, adding: "You're not scared of me either, are you?"

"I should be," Nezumi answers honestly. Shion shakes his head, putting both hands on Nezumi’s shoulders. Almost of their own accord, Nezumi’s hands float to Shion's waist.

"I don't want you to be," Shion whispers, and then they're both moving closer, and then, despite everything, their lips meet. In this moment, they’re not a vampire and a hunter; they’re two people who keep being drawn towards one another. Nezumi shifts so his body’s against Shion’s.