dead man's bones

getting hate for it

Insult my muse’s significant other.

This one goes right over his head – Gaara has very little understanding when it comes to slang, and fails to see how Kakashi correlates in any way to a medical device designed to irrigate and flush with water.

He was trying to not be terrified out of his wits but Gaara really didn’t want to die and he was sort of entertaining a vampire in his room. Was that just how things were going to be? Bullies out in school, a vampire in his teeny tiny flat?

Kakashi curled up, then, and Gaara hesitated, then asked, “Are you…are you hungry again?”

If Gaara knew anything, it was the sound of hungry moaning — hadn’t he made that sound himself so many times? And, well, Kakashi hadn’t killed him yet, though it was clearly within the other boy’s power to do so.

Cautiously, Gaara crawled a little closer to the tatty nest of blankets that served as his bed, trembling. “If I…” He swallowed rather hard. “If I let you… Will you try not to kill me?”

After all, it hadn’t exactly been painful last night, during. Maybe if he let Kakashi feed from him, it’d keep the other boy rational? Or something?

It was a simple question with a simpler answer. Kakashi was starving and it showed in every part of his gangly frame. His fingernails had elongated to jagged points, their healthy hue faded to a yellowish gray. His teeth were more pronounced and sharp, gums pale and gradually receding. His hair had lost its shine, the ends brittle and dry while his skin was beginning to sallow. Smudged half moons darkened under his black eyes, glistening with need.

All things that someone who knew what to look for would notice, but the symptoms of his hunger would continue to deteriorate his body until he became more like the monster he was and less the child he appeared to be. For now, he simply looked sick. “Yes.”

Instinct shoved Kakashi toward the redhead when Gaara crawled closer, the juddery rhythm of the boy’s heart as it pumped, slosh, slosh, sloshing blood through veins nearly driving him to madness. His skin itched with need, his teeth with want to snap into supple flesh, but he couldn’t - wouldn’tshouldn’t - allow that.

Squinching his eyes shut, Kakashi tried to think of anything that would keep him from hurting Gaara, only to freeze when he heard what the redhead was offering him. ‘If I let you, would you try not to kill me?’ He would do that? Allow Kakashi to feed on him? Why? 

Gaara’s expression when he looks at that cigarette says, very clearly, that he doesn’t want to go anywhere near Kakashi with that much smoke wreathed around the man, and certainly not for something like a kiss.

Leaning forward, a long finger tapped his cheek.