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If bats could pout, his bottom lip would be jutted out into the saddest pout known to bat-kind.
The first few days of being a bat were fun and he genuinely enjoyed learning the ropes from Phayu, who had shifted into his own bat form to guide him. His golden-brown toned fur, save for a small patch of white on his forehead (the marking of a younger bat), and his smaller, fluffier form can only be considered pathetic in comparison to his sire, who was a pure midnight black, with impressively long canines and a wider wingspan than the regular vampire bat.
Phayu taught him many things, from crawl-walking and finding balance with his wings, to feeding methods – sinking his teeth in, dragging a little cavern for blood to collect before lapping it. The only thing Phayu hasn't touched on in the slightest was flying, saying that Rain’s wings have not been fully developed and that it'll take at least a month for his form to be stable enough for it.
But now that he is in this predicament – of being stuck in his bat form indefinitely, it is hard not to feel sorry for himself. He has to stick strictly to a blood-drinking diet, with his morphology rendering him incapable of consuming anything else. Phayu’s blood is sweet like honey, so it's really not the taste that he minds (if anything, he loves it a little too much), but his spoiled human palate calls for variation.
He looks over from his position perched upon Phayu’s shoulder, Phayu himself standing by the stove top in his rustic kitchen. As the older plates a delicious-looking omelet straight from the pan, Rain lets out a solemn little sigh.
“Hungry?” He feels the rumble of Phayu’s voice reverberating before it even reaches his ears and Rain inches further down his shoulder just enough for Phayu to see him nod sorrowfully. With his little bat claws, he gestures vaguely at the mouth-watering food, before motioning with his thumb-claw jerking toward his open mouth, as if to say ‘ Feed me now’.
Reflexive in response to the younger’s actions, Phayu’s hand quickly moves up to stabilize the transformed-creature on his shoulder, hovering by the side to catch Rain should he fall. Something that has happened several times before because the little bat is notoriously clumsy.
“No, no omelets for baby bats. Would you like another feed?” His sire offers instead, the hovering hand moving to stroke a thumb over the crest of white fur on his forehead.
Huffing petulantly at the rejection, he leans grudgingly into the touch. His pointed ears pick up on a light, breezy chuckle before Phayu gently nudges Rain further up, tilting his head to grant the bat access. Making a show of being reluctant, he slowly crawls from the side of his shoulder to the column of his exposed neck.
Sitting by the juncture between Phayu’s head and shoulder, Rain wraps his wings around the older vampire’s nape for some stability as Phayu casually busies about, getting ready to move the dinner plate to the dining room. In a quick, practiced motion, he pierces his teeth into the flesh, dragging his fangs a little deeper to widen a canal for him to lap up his sire’s blood.
The moment the blood touches his grooved tongue, an explosion of saccharine sweetness fills his mouth. Its delectable taste remaining constant despite the shift in forms (from human to creature) is one of the only saving graces in his indefinite life sentence of being a bat. Though, admittedly, he would've been worse off if he had tried to transform weeks ago, when he wouldn't go remotely near a single drop of blood. It was wild to think of how much has changed since then, so much so that he was here now, in the form of an animal he barely knew existed, prior to turning.
Still, it's the same meal he's had every other hour for the past few days, with Phayu's insistence of keeping him well-fed. As Phayu picks up the fork and spoon to dig in, he tries to ignore the smell of egg wafting towards his button nose.
If he could just have the tiniest bite. Just a small little munch. Phayu won't even notice the insignificant corner of it disappearing as he continues to eat his large, large omelet – at this point in bat puberty, he's barely a quarter of its size.
He's licking his lips now, viscous red smearing all over as he stares intently at the bites of food shoveled into Phayu’s mouth every few seconds. It's not as if he particularly enjoyed eating omelets when he was a human, but being stuck in this form has driven him to a point of desperation – he'll jump at any opportunity for a morsel of food that isn't just metallic honey.
All he needs is to distract Phayu from the fact that he isn't feeding–
“Nong?”
Suddenly, he finds himself unwillingly peeled away from the warm neck, away from the spoonful of omelet he had been eyeing, and instead he's brought by the scruff to meet face-to-face with his sire.
Beady eyes flicker toward the blood dripping down the side of Phayu’s neck, evidence of where Rain has stopped his feed in favour of ogling Phayu’s food – the anticoagulant in the childe’s saliva prevents even the ancient vampire’s blood from clotting.
Lifting his gaze towards Phayu, he blinks, acting as innocent as can be, as if he wasn't a few beats away from diving head first into the hot plate.
To his surprise, his sire fondly nuzzles his sharp nose against the bat’s flattened muzzle – and all over Rain’s fluffy face, really. Feeling a ticklish sort of warmth spreading throughout his chest, he flaps his wings and kicks his feet in protest, letting out a little squeak. Another soft chuckle escapes Phayu as he shifts his hold, cupping the baby bat in one hand.
The older vampire then reaches over to grab something and it doesn't take long for Rain to find out what Phayu was trying to do. He brings his other hand close to Rain, offering the tiniest crumb of omelet on the nail of his finger. The pout on his lips finally diminishes in its fullest as Rain lights up with excitement, lunging forward to take a bite.
Thank god that his human/vampire taste buds were still intact – after days of being deprived of savory foods, it feels akin to a firework show exploding in his mouth the moment the salty taste of egg touches his tongue.
It's a shame that the bite is over as soon as it begins and he returns to pouting up at Phayu once more, pitiful eyes glimmering with a renewed effort to extort more egg morsels from his sire.
“Finish your last feeding and I’ll give you another reward. You'll be a good boy for me, won't you?”
The little acts of affection and encouragement work as a salve to Rain’s pent-up misery. He sulks a lot less as he is propped back onto Phayu’s shoulder to drink once again.
—
Feeding from Phayu always leaves him warm and satiated. Despite his complaints about the repetitive taste, the feeling of syrupy goodness dribbling down his throat and pooling comfortably in the pit of his belly always scratches a blood-shaped itch carved into the inner layers of his altered brain.
After a few more laps, he finally pulls his bloodied mouth away from Phayu’s neck. Having had two more tiny pieces of egg (that his sire was indulgent enough to offer) and a long drink, he is left feeling quite satisfied with his last feed for the day. He's pretty sure that his face is full of caked blood. He can even feel some dried on his feet, probably from when he wasn't paying attention.
As a newly transformed vampire, his teeth are still too blunt to leave anything other than indents. He'd know, having tried to bite Phayu before (while he was human) and having the older give him nothing but a patronizing pat on the head. It's only these past few days that Rain has been able to feed directly from Phayu’s neck, with his bat teeth somehow sharp enough to pierce his sire’s skin. The flow is considerably better by the neck compared to Phayu’s pre-pierced wrist, even if it wasn't terrible to begin with. So he may have been a little overenthusiastic when feeding, but he doesn't care.
A cloth is pressed over the wound beside him and, soon after, Phayu offers him an open hand. The bat can almost feel his stomach gurgling, full of food as he crawls over lazily, letting out a soft noise of contentment as Phayu runs a thumb gently over his face and belly.
“You're quite a messy eater,” his sire remarks after a few more seconds and Rain chirps a huffy response.
“You try.”
It's not as though Phayu can understand bat chirping in his human form (or so Rain thinks), yet he’s not as convinced when Phayu fixes him with a look.
“When you're back in your human state, I’ll show you how to feed cleanly.”
The mischievous grin that accompanies Phayu’s promise causes a shiver (of fear, delight or arousal, he couldn't tell) to dance along his spine. The image of his sensitive neck pricked by his sire, having to sit still and be patient as Phayu lathes his tongue against him, wet and ticklish – it's all too much for his tiny bat brain. Wriggling in Phayu’s grasp, he huffs once again as a playful peal of laughter escapes the older vampire. What a tease.
After a few more seconds of pressure on the wound, Phayu chucks the cloth away. The skin over the wound has already closed due to his accelerated healing, something that Rain thinks to be an awful shame (his neck would look prettier decorated in his marks). His sire then starts to move, keeping the bat in hand as he clears up the dishes.
This would usually be Rain’s share of chores, however given his current state, he can't do much of anything besides being cute and cuddly. Not that he's complaining, he really doesn't mind a few days off from chores.
He's placed back on Phayu’s shoulder, and perches there to watch as the dishes are washed. Before long, Phayu rinses the last of the silverware and moves again, feet shuffling up the spiraling staircase and down the winding hallways.
—
A hand rests protectively over the bat as Phayu walks, careful not to let him fall. The fingers block most of his vision, so it's not until the very last moment, when the hand is lifted, that he finds himself in the bathroom.
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no.
From the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of a small basin by the corner of the sink, and dread washes over him.
Taking showers as a human was normal. But as a bat, the thought of getting his fur and wings wet is horrific. The discomfort of having the water weigh heavily in his dense fur and the unpleasant sensations are a great deterrence. Besides, it's not as though bats in the wild can take baths, they function just fine without.
A series of very unhappy chirrups leaves his bloodied lips, and he scrambles by wing and foot off of Phayu’s shoulder to get away.
In response, Phayu’s fingers pinch themselves together like a tightened ring around his body, not enough to suffocate, but enough to prevent him from squirming too much. “Keep still, nong.” Phayu warns, turning the tap to fill the basin with water. Rain stops in his struggles, but still complains in bursts of upset squeaks, all of which Phayu turns a deaf ear to.
Soon after, the running water stops. For a moment, Rain has hope that Phayu has listened graciously to his pleadings and is maybe letting him off the hook. Instead, Phayu lifts the bat off his shoulder, lowering him closer and closer to the water-filled basin.
The moment his toes touch the water, the cool sensation against his warm, warm fur – it's almost as though he's been electrified. A jolt of panic courses through his body, his short furs standing on end as he starts to protest once again, thrashing and kicking.
When Phayu doesn't let up, lowering his body further down into the water, an angry squeal leaves his tiny chest, the bat glowering at the horrible, horrible man.
It's only when Rain bares his fangs to bite down hard on Phayu’s thumb does he finally jerk his hand away. The bat, now unceremoniously dumped into the basin, kicks and flaps, water spraying in all directions as he flails in distress, struggling to get out.
In a swift motion, he's picked up by the scruff, feet dangling beneath him. His ears are pressed close to Phayu’s lips as the older vampire growls out a threat.
“Unless you wish to become bat soup, I'd highly suggest behaving like a good little childe.”
Rain gasps dramatically at the audacity to make such a threat. It's not as though he chose to be stuck in the form, if at all. Something about how powerless he feels against Phayu strikes a nerve and, in true Rain-fashion, he starts to scream a string of offensive squeaks, cursing out everything under the sun. Before he knows it, he's shoved nose-first into the corner of the sink counter.
Immediately, he starts to object, trying to twist his little body away from the wall and back away. Yet all it takes is a few sharp swats to his bottom for him to grumpily sit his ass back down.
“Ten minutes. Being a bat doesn't excuse you from following the rules, Rain. Don't think I can't decipher what you're saying.”
“You mean you could understand me all this time, you ancient motherfuc–”
“Fifteen minutes.”
Arms crossed over his chest, his outcries reduce to barely-audible grumbling at the extended sentence, the bat resorting to glaring angry holes into the tiled walls.
Time passes by as slow as ever. The older seems to find his predicament rather amusing, which only makes Rain even more annoyed at it all. Occasionally, he'll attempt to squeeze out from the corner, though his actions prove futile as Phayu’s palm prevents him from backing away.
Past the ten minute mark, he finally resigns to his fate, slumping his head in the corner as he fiddles with his claws, waiting out the last few minutes.
The last of his residual anger is gone now, and the corner seems cold and lonesome – all he wants is to be curled up in Phayu’s hands. By the time Phayu finally lets him out of the corner, he doesn't fight, a wobbly pout on his lips as he stands up and turns around.
“Are you ready for your bath now, little bat?”
Rain nods remorsefully, crawling into Phayu’s palm. Comfortingly stroking his cheek with a thumb, Phayu hums in approval, lifting the bat back into the basin.
The water is a lot warmer now and Rain is slightly wary that Phayu is going through with actually turning him into soup. But all of his suspicions melt away the moment he feels a soapy toothbrush massaging his forehead in soothing, circular motions.
It seems to scratch at all the right places, and Rain trills in satisfaction at the soothing sensations of the brush strokes. The icky texture of water trapped in his dense fur coat is long forgotten as he lifts his chin, letting Phayu clean up the mess of dried blood on his face.
God, it feels like a spa day, being so thoroughly bathed. Maybe, just maybe, he had overreacted initially. If he knew that baths were just extended scritching sessions, he wouldn't have fought Phayu so hard.
A shiver of pleasure ripples through him as the toothbrush moves down from his head to scratch against his neck, soft but firm strokes continuing downward to the crevices between his arms and wings.
The brush feels ticklish against his feet and Rain wriggles in response. Phayu’s fingers wrap around him to hold him still as he cleans the last of the blood, alternating between the brush and his fingers to rub the grime away.
Rinsing Rain off with cupped-handfuls of water, Phayu cleans the last of the soap bubbles off of his fur and swaddles him in the softest of towels. His sire’s touches remain gentle even as he towels away the last of the water droplets and contentment buzzes through Rain’s body, his eyelids feeling awfully heavy as a sleepy haze overtakes his senses.
“Let's get you to bed, shall we?”
Rain chirps quietly in agreement as Phayu carries the bat-burrito to his bedroom.
—
It's not that Rain doesn't have his own bedroom. He does, with a queen-sized bed and all.
Yet, as a precaution, Phayu insisted that he sleep by his sire the past few days, in case anything were to happen to the little bat. Rain is particularly vulnerable in his current state – hell, he can't even fly – so, understanding Phayu’s concerns (and also, scared of being alone in a huge bedroom), he follows instruction, sleeping in a wicker basket cushioned with blankets and pillows on Phayu’s bedside table.
Just for tonight though, Rain is draped on his sire’s chest, the wet towel once wrapped around him now replaced by a very fluffy blanket. Digging his chin further into the crook of Phayu’s neck, he settles into a comfortable position, lying spread with his wings flat against his sire’s chest. A pleased, cheshire-like grin spreads across his fuzzy bat face as he squeaks about a cartoon show he watched as a human.
It's feels like far more intimate of a position than they've ever been in, even though they've fucked before. But Phayu feels soft and nice and cozy and Rain, feeling a little chilly from the bath, really doesn't want to move away. The older vampire also has a large hand resting on his back, deft fingers reaching up to scratch right behind his ears every so often.
It's moments like these where Rain feels as though he can let go of the independence and control that he's been forced to take up while human. To let his fists unfurl around the shreds of self-control he unwittingly clings to, even after he's been washed and fed. To let his confusing feelings of what he wants and what he should want fade to nothing, to let someone care for him and hold him close.
Running a finger along the side of his cheek, Phayu murmurs a response. Rain leans into his touch, a pointy ear pressing to his chest, listening reverently as the words echo within the cavity.
His soft chirps die down as another hand starts to stroke the fur up and down his back in a soothing rhythm. The warmth from Phayu’s calloused palms sinks deep into his partially-hollow bones, spreading through his body in a wave of contentment. Feeling safe and secure and just right in his sire’s hands, Rain lets out the softest little purr, shifting slightly just to nuzzle further into Phayu, drawing up his oak-wood scent with every breath.
“If you're feeling sleepy, little bat, you can rest here today,” Phayu coos gently, with a tone so tender that Rain melts.
Rain keeps purring as Phayu’s fingers continue their ministrations, smoothing over his light brown fur, scritching him right under the chin. His hazel eyes flutter shut, lost in the blissful moment of comfort — of being so well cared for. For once, he doesn't hate the thought of being Phayu’s spoilt little childe.
Sleep calls out to him quicker tonight than most days and the last thing he remembers is picking up the sound of Phayu’s faint, but steady heartbeat. Keeping the discovery close to his heart, he's lulled by the soft thrumming down into dreamland.
—
The bat on Phayu’s chest shifts and suddenly, it presses down immensely hard, as though something much heavier than a fruit was weighing it down. Stirring from his state of half-consciousness, Phayu cracks an eye open.
His golden orb swirls with amusement as he finds the little batling — well, not so little anymore — now in his naked, human form, curled up on his chest. Basking in the glow of the pale moonlight, his childe looks almost ethereal. So beautiful and yet, so Rain.
Bat Rain was an adorable sight to behold, no doubt, but nothing could hold a candle to the boy sleeping peacefully on his chest now. His chin is no longer as soft and furry, instead it digs sharply into the crook of his neck, which Phayu doesn't mind, because he's able to catch his face at an angle where he can trace his brow bones to his high cheekbones. His knees are tucked up all the way to his chest as though he were a fetus and Phayu can't help but breathe a fond chuckle at the sight. His lips twitch ever-so-slightly into a little pout, as though he were a brat even in his dreams. Even if Phayu has seen the pout a million times in both his bat and human form, he still can't help the pinch in his heart when Rain makes such a cute expression.
Bat or human, Rain is his childe to spoil and cherish. His to teach and guide and love.
Bat or human, Rain is irrevocably his.
Phayu’s arms, still coiled around the boy, squeeze him just a little tighter in their embrace.
He knows it's only only a few hours before Rain wakes up and comes to a shocking realisation. Before the poor fledgling starts crying all sorts of accusations, denying his own cravings for affection, painting Phayu as the cruel one. As always, Phayu will apologise for being a terrible, terrible sire, offering many servings of omelet and blood pudding, giving into his whims until the day that Rain is comfortable enough to admit his own feelings.
But for now, he'll drink up every last moment of peace he can have with his little bat.