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Blood always tastes sweet to him, Tonkla’s isn’t different, there’s nothing special about it.
It startles a laugh out of him and once he starts, he can’t stop. It was all too easy, even for someone as incompetent as Mark, he should have seen it through his ruse.
Tonkla makes a noise, and Nakan doesn’t bother hiding the razor, food is food, awake or not, Tonkla will forget about it in the morning, perhaps the nightmares will haunt him for a few days, but Nakan already got what he wanted from him.
“Did I – fall asleep?” The boy asks, blinking the sleepiness away. He notices the razor, his own bloodied finger, Nakan’s lips. The math adds up. “Khun-” He jumps to his feet, back hitting the door behind him, a caged prey, terrified, Nakan can almost smell his emotions. He doesn’t know what he enjoys more: the blood or the fear.
“Don’t worry.” He stands up, “I won’t kill you, yet .” He adds just to see the boy squirm, eyes widening in surprise at how easily Nakan admits the unthinkable.
He doesn’t scream when Nakan sinks his teeth into his neck, falling to his knees as it happens, awake to experience the feeling of having his blood savored by a being he thought only existed in children’s nightmares.
“It will be over soon.” Nakan soothes him as one does with a scared animal, “I won’t even leave a mark,” his mouth is dripping with blood, and he enjoys the smell of Tonkla’s sweat as his entire body shakes. “Look at you,” he smiles, pulls back to touch the boy’s quivering lips, “being so brave about it.” It’s almost beautiful, his blown pupils, the hands holding the lapels of Nakan’s suit.
Why would one settle for fake blood, tomato juice, when you can have this ?
“Good boy.” He adds and watches as Tonkla accepts his fate.
-
“You don’t have to-” Tonkla says as he cleans his mouth, heals the bite marks on his neck, his chest, “make me forget.”
Nakan tilts his head, examines the boy's face. The fear is gone now that it’s over, there’s only curiosity, a dark interest. He isn’t the first human to gamble with his own life, Nakan has lived many centuries, met countless humans who thought they could handle it. They were always lying.
He smiles, touches the boy’s lips. “You will see me again,” he promises, and the next time Tonkla blinks, his world is free of vampires again.
-
He watches Tong walk around the university as if he doesn’t know about the secrets of their world, Mark keeping watch next to him like a bodyguard and Nakan is smart enough to know Miss Thara must be watching from the shadows.
The golden blood is protected and all Nakan can have is a whiff of his sweat clinging to Tonkla’s own clothes when he has his face buried in the boy’s neck.
He didn’t need to eat today, he knows, it’s careless, even for him, to keep at it, but when he found Mark standing by Tong’s side again, he felt something bubbling inside him. Frustration, he realized, throwing a glass against a wall. More than the blood, he hates not being able to just take it. A forbidden fruit, the forbidden apple, Nakan doesn’t like being told no.
“It’s supposed to be mine .” He had screamed, only remembering Tonkla was still there when the boy startled. “Why does Mark get to have it?”
He expected a hunt when Tonkla stepped back, the fact the boy stayed made him even angrier, this is simple, there’s food everywhere, he just needs to know how to get it, and he always does.
“ You are mine, right, baby?” He runs a hand over Tonkla’s hair, practically purring against his neck as the hunger and the anger give way to simple satisfaction. “I can have you anytime I want.”
“Yes, khun.” Tonkla agrees easily, hand coming to rest on Nakan’s hair, pushing his face closer to his own neck. “All yours.”
Nakan smiles, victorious. He always gets what he wants.
-
Sometimes he catches Mark staring at him, one arm around Tong’s waist, protective. It would be hilarious, if it wasn’t so fucking infuriating. Nakan can control himself around humans, he didn’t build an empire hypnotizing everyone, where would be the fun in that?
“What is golden blood?” Tonkla asks and Nakan is surprised it took him this long to ask. He stopped controlling him at some point between their third or sixth meeting. Tonkla always keeps his mouth shut around Mark and Tong, he doesn’t shy away when Nakan unbuttons his suit and tells him to sit down, only bares his throat, waiting.
If it weren’t so fucked up, Nakan would think he enjoys it.
“A special blood. Powerful.” Nakan pulls back, wipes his lips clean with a handkerchief. “Or so they say.”
“They?”
He shrugs. “It’s a tale.”
Tonkla nods, waits for Nakan to heal the cuts on his neck and then buttons up his own shirt again. He’s been asking more and more questions lately, unfazed by Nakan’s answers or his frustrated outbursts.
“But you don’t have to kill him, right? Do you?” Tonkla asked once.
“I can control myself.” Nakan gestured at him, daring Tonkla to deny the control he clearly shows every time they meet.
“Alright.” The boy answered and that was the end of it.
-
He sees Mark and Tong kissing one day and it all suddenly makes sense.
It’s not greed or something noble, it’s just ownership.
“I think they are in love.” Tonkla tells him and Nakan squeezes his neck, resumes pulling his pants down.
This boy is too naive, Nakan closes his eyes as he pushes inside, he doesn’t wait to begin thrusting, he’s frustrated, he’s angry, he’s jealous and he wants, he wants so much he would rip the world apart if he could.
He would rip Tonkla apart if the boy weren’t so fucking delicious .
“ Phi ,” the boy moans, raising his hips to meet Nakan’s thrusts. His neck is bleeding and Nakan can taste the blood on his lips, and he only moans louder when Tonkla buries his own teeth on his neck, drawing the same red blood.
They bleed the same, together, when Tonkla pushes himself from under Nakan, forces him on his desk chair, climbing on top of him.
He’s daring, he’s dangerous , Nakan realizes, he knows what he wants and that he can get it from Nakan, he knows Nakan will always give it to him.
“Don’t think about him,” Tonkla orders, “think about me .”
“I’m always thinking about you,” he confesses, and the boy cries out when he thumbs at the head of his cock. The blood trails down his neck and Nakan licks it up, chest and nipples and to the two dots, the marks he left there, the marks Tonkla made him stop healing.
“ Nakan ,” he bounces on his cock, desperate for the release, desperate for Nakan.
No one ever uses his name, not like this, he’s had men and women in his past, he’s lived many lives and Tonkla hasn’t and still he knows more than all of them.
He rides him like he’s used to it, the pain and the lust, he rides him like he wants to consume him, and perhaps he does. And Nakan lets him because, perhaps, he wants to be consumed too.
-
The golden blood tastes like blood.
Mark forces him back and Nakan almost laughs in his face.
It’s just blood, it’s red and it’s sweet, but there’s nothing powerful about it.
Miss Thara looks horrified, then surprised and then, simply, confused.
Maybe it doesn’t work with him, maybe it’s gone, maybe it stopped working.
Maybe.
He turns to Tonkla, offers his hand.
Tonkla’s blood is red and it tastes like blood, but his lips are Nakan’s own forbidden fruit, and Nakan's been known to enjoy being a sinner.
Tonkla accepts his hand and Nakan grins. He won.