#nzkb

His scent was woodsy when they first met. Piers seemed so aromatic then, like a dewy forest waiting to be explored. It struck Raihan just how much Piers’ scent would overwhelm his senses on an olfactory basis alone, considering how silently void the man’s consciousness was. There had never been a person before that Raihan couldn’t hear the neverending trail of thoughts of. Never, until this new kid came in, smelling of cedar and ash, more closed off to his supernatural senses than any other mortal he had met in his one hundred and eighteen years. 

But the woody waft was just a start, because a week later, a metallic tang crept in. Raihan could feel his mouth salivate at the scent of it, and it was all he could do to turn his head and avoid breathing deeply while they sat next to one another. It became an hour of torture, drawing out his instincts to bare his fangs and lean in, with only his chivalrous willpower keeping him from doing something so uncouth in their biology class. 

Surely, it was Piers’ menses, and if he could only bear until the end of the week, he could go hunt in relative peace and let all of this morbid temptation be cleansed. His fangs gnawed at his inner lip for the whole day, and by the time the school bell rang, Raihan knew he’d have to take a few days off to go satiate his hunger or risk doing something his conscience never wanted to do.

That had to be the worst of the tempting scents, because nothing could be more enticing to him than blood, surely…

But no. Raihan was done for.

Piers was now ovulating, and the smell of it overtook Raihan the moment he came to the school grounds. It spread with every step, and grew richer, fuller, and so much more alluring with every meter they came closer. Raihan was feeling rabid with nee at the sweet, deep scent that dug deep into his brain and reminded him of a sweet milk chocolate. 

And it had been many, many years since Raihan had tasted chocolate. 

“Did someone blow off in ‘ere?” Piers commented lazily, slamming his black studded messenger bag down as he collapsed into his chair next to Raihan. “Ye look like yer nose is offended.”

Raihan had to grip the edges of his desk and cover his face as the waft of Piers’ scent fully overtook him. His nose was far from offended, truly. The vampire was transfixed, frozen in his state of his uncouth actions. He didn’t want to be so obvious to Piers, needed to hide his diablerie… but the only thing between his killer fangs and Piers’ pure ivory neck was his own overbearing hand keeping tight the beast within. Control was the only thing he could focus on, because the scent of the other man simply scoffing and shifting was too delectable. The monster within him kept begging, demanding, kill, kill, kill… he could kill Piers quick, but it would only be a good fifteen seconds before the rest of the room would react. Could he kill them all in less than a minute? Maybe, if the professor stayed facing away…

“Oi, ye prick, I’m talking to ye.” Piers jabbed at him with a pencil, and Raihan winced back, stunned. Oh, his grotesque instinct, playing at ruining such an ethereal being. Pale skin, decadent musk, an oddly patched dye job that could have only been on purpose… a small prod of connection between them, a demon and an angel. If only Piers could know how much of a monster he was, he’d never have dared turn a rubber to Raihan’s ice cold skin. 

“I swear, me words go in one ears ‘n out tha other…”

If only Raihan could see what was on Piers’ mind. It was a suspicious, excruciating thing, with Piers’ mind being the only locked gate in the absolute crowd of thoughts that always cheek-ached him. The one thing he couldn’t see, the sweet, sweet fruit in the garden of Eden…

Raihan gathered his unneeded breath and turned away from his friendly acquaintance. “I’m sorry, Piers… I… I think I am under the weather, I…” 

His tawdry words of excuse would be so threadbare, and Piers would catch on. Oh, how he fought himself, over and over. Piers was so innocent, so human… he’d be such a monster to even think of it, killing Piers. Fighting with himself, over and over, about Piers. A thorn in his side, a constant force that made him  want to run and hide and claw and bite…

“Well go on to tha nurses’, ye daft mitcher.” 

Raihan could run for now, out the door, to the loo. But he couldn’t run forever. He couldn’t switch his classes - because of that wanker Principal Rose - and he couldn’t miss every period he had been unwittingly assigned with the porcelain temptress. Melony would be furious with him for even deigning to fail a course.

He missed days of school, sunny days, which were few in this part of Galar. He’d make up the coursework. A hunt was more important. He needed to let the beast inside of him calm, be fed, be tamed, and turn docile in its driving need. 

But even with the numerous days away from the man, Raihan could not stop missing Piers. It ached in him to stay away, the hunger, the need… not just for Piers’ blood, or his scent, but his everything… his locked treasure of his mind, that was so sweetly kept out of Raihan’s grasp…

Piers’ scent taunted Raihan for days on end. As he retuned to classes, Raihan found himself tracking his classmate through the school, always subtly aware of exactly where Piers was. It was bothersome, though exhilarating. Fate kept them aligned together, as Nessa said from one of her visions. Fate. What a fickle thing to tempt, but tempt it, he did. 

Raihan eventually gave into the deep temptations that scratched at him, and he began to track Piers further. To his house, to the grocery store, to the diner. Piers tended to keep to himself, not really going too many places within Spoons. There was only once that made Raihan freeze up and turn back - when Piers had driven deep into the northern woods, into a place that had a putrid smell of wet wool that overwhelmed Piers’ honeyed nectar.

Piers, though, always came back at night.

It might have been a little… much… to be watching Piers sleep soundly, but being able to see the way the young man would do his evening rituals and then settle into the mortal lull calmed Raihan’s instincts more than any distractions could. His mind, his body, his senses ached to be near Piers, making him need his classmate’s presence near his own. There was something, strong, horrid, drawing them together, like a Pyroar in love with a Wooloo.

Though, with the way Piers’ black and white hair would tangle up at night in his bed, he looked a lot more like a Zigzagoon. 

It was protection, Raihan rationalized to himself, when that creep of self-judgement from the action of watching Piers sleep came about. Kabu questioned him on exactly the nature of his long trysts of late night disappearances, but he found his own excuses oddly fair and sensical, allowing for the abominable act of spying to continue.

The next day, unknowingly, Raihan was proven right about how protective he was.

Raihan didn’t even think when the incident happened. He just moved, jolted, a split second reaction. A millisecond's worth of decision, and a choice made out of the purest form of altruism that his vampiric nature could produce. Seeing a large van come tumbling upon the gaunt shape of the object of his watch, he ran, racing to put himself between Piers and his untimely doom.

Piers stood, shocked, frozen in his little pink track uniform, as a large van swerved and then toppled, hit in a half-second of contact from Raihan throwing himself and his superhuman strength between his fixation and the metal death trap. It was moments away from crushing him against the brick wall behind him. 

Piers blinked.

The van stopped, a large dent in its side from bouncing against Raihan’s palm. Piers stared deep into Raihan’s eyes, and suddenly the vampire realized just how much he had always wanted Piers to stop and look at him like this. Like… a hero. Like a protector. Like prey. 

Raihan swallowed his anxiety, instead letting the delicious savor of Piers’ full and silent attention come over him. He could jump time, break the speed of sound, and make a man cower from his own thoughts, but when it came to Piers, he was putty, truly.

“Alright, luv?” Raihan asked, swearing about the pet name the moment it fell from his mouth.

Piers remained silent, his eyes staring deep in thought. 

Raihan had to peel his own gaze away from Piers’ neck. And then his lips. And then his eyes. He had to- oh. He needed to go. He just displayed all of his speed and strength and everything unholy about him in one fell swoop and Piers was going to suspect things-

He took off, into the forest.

Raihan needed to stay away. Needed to. He was getting too close. Piers was dangerous for him. Too much. Too… sweet. He couldn’t harm Piers, he’d never forgive himself if he did, but yet every time he got around that sweet nectar of the man’s scent, his mind split in two.

But he had protected Piers. Saved his life. What was he even protecting Piers for? So he could take it himself next time? Keep the gaunt fellow nice and protected until the next moment his guard was down and his hunger overtook him? It was vital for Raihan to stay away, for Piers’ own safety and needs but… that scent. It was still here. In the forest, in the school, in his mind, everywhere. It followed him, taunted him. Just as Piers did. Fragile Piers, so easily crushed if he would have done nothing. Piers who was the blankest of all canvases, his thoughts truly hidden, his beauty in a trove of mystery.

Raihan mulled. And mulled. Back, and forth. Tearing up his choices, and then tearing into a small deer that wasn’t quick enough to run. Eventually, his body stopped, but his mind never did. The day turned to evening, and when the sky turned a dusty gold, a distant bleat of some other creature shook him from his reverie of focus.

And that fragrance struck him again.

Piers.

“Oi, ye gonna come out, ye muff,” called a voice toward the south of the forest. Raihan turned, his hearing immediately tuned to the sound. “Fecking trees n’ shite, gonna make me come in this wood, are ye…”

Piers.

Raihan’s body moved for him, racing, running, silently bolting toward the voice, toward the scent, and he climbed a tree and hopped the branches, silently gliding closer, and closer. Piers was… here? His precious mortal, approaching the deep of a wooded enclave, all the more seeking his doom. Raihan should run the other way, stay away from Piers, to protect the ignorant fletching from his reckless deathwish… but his legs travelled the direction that his heart called.

“Ye so feckin’ stubborn… I know ye can hear me.” Piers huffed, crunching leaves and kicking rocks as he walked. An easy target. Too easy. Raihan’s body betrayed him and went closer, and closer, speeding through the forest.

“I know all about ye, ye knob.” Piers continued, everything about him loud and open. He’d be killed. He’d be ruined. Raihan could pounce on him, take him, feast on him… “I know yer impossibly fast, ‘n strong… I knew ye got cold skin ‘n weird colour-changin’ eyes.”

Raihan landed on a tree close enough to see Piers below, his eyes watching soundlessly while Piers bumbled through the brush. His remained ablaze in the internal fight to kill or protect while crouching on a branch stock still.

“Ye talk like a dyin’ Kalosian war widow n’ stare at me while I sleep like a feckin’ voyeur.”

He was precious, he was delicious. He was warm, and handsome. His scent, delectable, tempting, musky, sweet… the perfect bait for a striking demon like Raihan, to pull him into an inclination so repugnant, so despicable… what was he, but a monster? A bloodsucker, a devil… evil in the world, cursed to hunt those so pure…

“Ye don’t eat anythin, and pissin’ Ponytas, I can feckin’ feel yer weird eyes on me now.”

Raihan couldn’t even control how he moved. Didn’t register how he had jumped down, came close, slowly, and then stood up behind Piers directly, looming over the man in his beat up black punk attire.

“I know what ye are,” Piers repeated again, and silence blossomed between them.

He couldn’t. Piers couldn’t know. But he had to.

Raihan caught his breath. “Say it. Out loud.”

Piers turned to him, icy blue eyes baring into the empty void that was once Raihan’s soul.

“Some kinda shite vampire.”

Raihan could feel his insides clinch in fear. Impossible, his fair Piers-

“Are you afraid?” Raihan rasped, feeling his fangs descending, yearning, needing the sacred flesh in front of him. He didn’t need it. He couldn’t do that to one so pure… but he desired it so much…

“Of ye?” Piers scoffed. “Ye ‘avin a laff?”

For a moment, everything around the two of them froze, and a million endings ran across Raihan’s mind. He could. He could. The scent was dizzying, devine, a dare. He stepped closer, more into that perfume of temptation, and his arms reached out to grab. Piers’ heartbeat hammered through his senses. Was he truly the monster? Or the protector he so wanted to be? 

“Gonna kiss me?” Piers taunted, with only the smallest tremble of doubt in his words. “Or bite me?”