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Colour me Blood red: Human after all	By : DragonBlade Category: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2135 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own prince of tennis, characters or ideas, and I am making no money from this

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Yes, I'm finally updating, I'm sorry.

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CHAPTER 8

The club was an old underground warehouse that had been remodeled to suit the high class traffic. The only entrance was a dark stairwell lit with flickering red lights. Graffiti spattered the walls leading up to the large steel door, and garbage gathered along the floors and in corners. If one didn’t know what they were looking for they’d easily walk right by.
The dark car pulled along side the sidewalk and Kirihara swung the door open. On the drive over he had steeled his nerves and recited everything Niou had told him, several times.
“Remember,” Niou had said while he was applying several layers of make-up, “you’re the human servant of a very high ranking Master of the City. You have an ego, you know all eyes will be on you.”
“And I’m supposed to enjoy that?”
“Very much, but no ones attention is more important to you than Sanada’s.”
He spread his long fur lined black trench coat as he stepped from the car, trying to look elegant and not trip and land on his face. Could he really pull this off? Did he have a choice?
The boots Niou had wrestled him into climbed to his knees and were laced up the backs, with a nice thick wedge heel. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of the coat, his fingers just slightly chilled. Everyone knew he was cocky so if he was too different from what they had come to know they’d be suspicious. He really needed this night to work.
Niou climbed out of the front of the car and led him into the stairwell. They still had to wait for Sanada. He had been caught up at work and was running a bit late. Niou watched him out of the corner of his eye; would their indiscretion ruin Sanada’s chance? It was bad manners to touch another Vampire’s slave, even worse manners to accuse them of something. You could greet a servant, but that was it. A servant was a Masters property, and their property alone. So even if they noticed something amiss, no one could confront him. That didn't mean it wouldn't hurt Sanada in the long run.
They didn’t have to wait much longer and Sanada’s familiar black limo was pulling up. Kirihara had to fight the urge to scoff. He was supposed to be a human servant, which meant puppy-love on steroids. Yet somehow he had to make it believable.
Yeah, right.
Sanada ducked into the stairwell and Kirihara did as he had been told, even though he was fighting off the instinct to scream. He could never forgive Sanada for what he had done, even though the Master was doing everything he could to make amends. He had to give him some credit, but not that much. Right?
He breathed deeply in through his nose, puffing his chest out, and held it until he could feel his heart slowing. Several long strides brought him within arms reach of Sanada and he saw the Master hesitate. Seems like they were both playing the ‘should I really be doing this’ dance.
Kirihara slipped his hands from his pockets and slid them under Sanada’s heavy coat, palms finding the soft material of his shirt. He pressed their bodies together and tucked his face into the curve of Sanada’s neck. “Miss me?”
Sanada’s chuckle rumbled through his body but when the Master bent his head he froze. “You smell like Niou …” his head shot up and Niou had the grace to look guilty. “Really?” He growled, hands clenching into fists where they were still in the pockets of his jacket.
“Sanada …I can explain …”
“Don’t bother!” He barked at Niou, “normally I wouldn’t care, but tonight of all nights!”
Maybe it was being pressed to him, maybe it was their growing link, but Kirihara felt a thread of hesitation when Sanada said he didn’t care. Did it really bother him who he slept with?
“Go!” Sanada snarled at Niou and the Vampire wisely fled into the club. He grabbed Kirihara by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall.
“I’m sorry!” Kirihara squeaked, memories flashing in his mind of the time Sanada attacked him in the elevator. Shoulders hitting the cold metal of the cart, clothes ripping, the burning tear of being violated.
Sanada instantly sobered, cursing softly to himself. “You couldn’t keep it in your pants? Just for one night?”
“Sanada …” what could he say? Oops?
“Never mind …if they smell him on you then I’ll lose respect. The only way to cover this is to mask it with my own.” Sanada dropped his voice, head tilted like he was listening to something far away.
“What do you mean mask it with-“ Kirihara was cut off when Sanada’s hands gripped his backside and he crushed their mouths together. Oh …OH! He moaned and wiggled against Sanada’s hands, arms wrapped around the Vampires neck for balance. Sanada broke their kiss and grabbed a handful of hair at the nape of his neck, jerking his head to the side. No time for niceties. He sank his fangs into the side of his neck and Kirihara cried out. With his head tilted he could see what had sent Sanada into a frenzy. Other Masters were starting to appear.
Shit!
Trying to make it look less like a staged attack and more like a heat of the moment he wrapped one leg around Sanada’s hip and raked his hands across his shoulders. The moan that came next was anything but fake, seems Sanada enjoyed his acting. The Master’s hand gripped his backside harder, forcing their hips together.
“No more …” Kirihara panted, vision getting blurry.
He heard cat calls and dark laughter.
“Don’t kill your pretty little servant Sanada! Save some for tonight!”
The Master slowly drew away from Kirihara’s neck, letting his breath tickle over the damaged skin. He chuckled as he straightened; adjusting his clothes to more hoots and howls.
Kirihara shakily stepped away from the wall, trying to keep his balance as the hallway spun. Sanada placed his hand on his lower back for balance and to guide him.
The room was lit with the same low red lights, only more. Most of the tables were along the walls, high backed booths allowed for privacy. For all intensive purposes it looked like any other high-end bar, aside from some glaring details. Cages hung from the ceilings with girls and young males dressed in skimpy black outfits chained inside. They swayed and danced to the music; live entertainment. Waitresses moved to and from tables, their low slung shirts exposing their collars and most of their breasts. They were all marked with dozens of pin holes, some old, some fresh. Seems like the waitresses were part of the menu.
Their coats were taken and Sanada led him to a dark booth. Niou was nowhere to be seen, which was probably wise on his part.
Sanada slipped into the booth and taking Kirihara’s hand he guided him to his lap.
‘I can’t do this!’ Kirihara’s mind screamed. The logical part of his mind screamed to shut up, Vampires could smell mood swings and he was completely out in left field. He was supposed to be excited, maybe a little nervous, probably turned on. Not terrified and disgusted.
“Sanada, may I join you?” Atobe grinned at the two.
“Of course.” Sanada nodded.
Atobe slid into the booth beside him, pulling two of his pets with him. Gakuto smiled silkily and slid onto the booth, letting Atobe pull his leash tight enough to arch his neck. Jirou was more reserved, bordering on looking tired. He curled up on the seat next to Gakuto.
“My pets were being naughty tonight, so I was forced to punish them!” Atobe smiled and snapped the leashed. Gakuto let out a shuddered moan and Jirou eyelids fluttered. Atobe’s eyes were cold and calculating, opposite to his teasing manner. He quickly flicked his gaze into the room and Sanada let his gaze follow.
They were being watched.
Masters had all started flooding in, their pets and servants in tow. A few had found their table a little too interesting and were constantly caught watching them over the rim of a glass or through lowered lashes.
“Watch yourself tonight,” Atobe winked at Sanada, but Kirihara caught the double meaning. That was meant for him too, ‘don’t mess up’.
Was this really that bad? Sanada hadn’t attacked him since, and had made sure to walk on eggshells for him. Was it really that bad to be in his lap? His hand gently petting his knee?
One of the girls approached their table, smiling brightly. “Could I interest you in a drink? Bottled or,” She leaned forward, putting her hands on the table to give them a clear view of her collar and to force her breasts forward, “fresh?”
“Bottled is fine,” Sanada ushered her away again.
The image of Sanada with his mouth latched to one of the girls breasts flashed in Kirihara’s mind and he found his stomach knotting. “Don’t get bottled just because I’m here.” He couldn’t hide the bitterness in his tone. He had no idea why he was feeling …jealous? That wasn’t like him.
Atobe laughed, “Sanada always drinks bottled.”
“Oh …” the knot in his stomach loosened.
Sanada and Atobe exchanged pleasantries before delving into matters of territory and business. Kirihara let his mind wander, their business wasn’t the reason he was here. He didn’t recognize faces, not that he could see them very well anyway. Just because their eyes could see in the poor light didn’t mean his could. He made a mental note of everyone watching them, just incase he needed that knowledge later.
Sanada’s hand began to creep up his leg, fingers picking at the material of the stockings. He tried to concentrate on the club; someone was paying a little too much attention to them. He caught a glimpse of long blond hair before the person ducked in behind a group of Vampires. Sanada’s hand slid up the loose leg of his shorts and made a startled noise when he didn’t come across any undergarments.
Kirihara couldn’t help but grin. He leaned back against Sanada’s chest, tilting his head back so he would whisper in his ear. “I’m wearing a thong.”
Sanada did something he wasn’t expecting; he moaned. His fingers slid higher, pushing the shorts aside until he could feel the thin strip of material.
Kirihara chuckled and then paused, was he enjoying this? He took quick mental stock. He wasn’t feeling sick from Sanada’s presence; he was calm, almost giddy. Like his body had been missing something. Was this right? Did he want to feel like this? He hated being scared of Sanada, no one had the right to have that kind of power over him. Maybe attempting to convince himself so no one else would realize his discomfort worked too well?
His mental dilemma went up in smoke when Sanada’s long finger slipped aside the material of his thong and pushed into him.
His fingers drove into the soft material of the booth and his head fell back. Sanada’s finger worked inside of him until he was panting and squirming in his lap. They were in public! Couldn’t they get arrested for something like that? His blurry eyes darted around the room and found that no one, besides the few who had been watching them since earlier, was paying attention to them. Human servants around the room were in different states; some looked bored, others were so enamored with their Masters nothing else in the room mattered, and then others were in similar states as Kirihara. One girl had her head in her Masters lap, his fingers laced into her dark hair as her head bobbed up and down. Another Master had a young male spread eagle across his lap while he talked to a group of Vampires in the booth next to him. His hand disappeared into the boys pants.
Sanada slipped a second finger around his shorts and then up inside of him. He cried out, leaning forward to put his weight on the table. He detached his hand from the booth and scrabbled with the fly on his shorts. They were so tight it was painful.
He could see Atobe smirking out of the corner of his eye. Gakuto straddled Jirou, who had his head resting on Atobe’s thigh. A lazy smile spread across Jirou’s face as he played with the straps on Gakuto’s PVC pants. The Cheetah wiggled and danced on the other Shifters lap, pouting in Atobe’s direction.
What the hell was going on?
Kirihara popped the fly on his shorts and sighed in relief. Sanada chuckled and drew his hand from the leg of his shorts and went down the back instead, getting a better angle. Kirihara put both of his hands on the table and straddled Sanada’s lap, much the way he had seen the other servant do.
In his haze he almost missed the next group of Vampires enter.
His brain didn’t quite want to accept what his eyes were seeing. Kite was not strolling into the club with a group of very expensively dressed Master Vampires. He couldn't be! He stood tall with his head held high; confident, arrogant. Even their human servants were immaculate. Kite walked with no servant or pet, only the group of Masters hanging onto his every word.
A hush fell over the entire room when the group swept through, going to a large table in the back. Even Atobe and Sanada had fallen silent. When they passed the room seemed to wake up, everyone resuming what they were doing as if they had never stopped.
Sanada’s fingers alternated simply teasing him to driving him mental. He was brought to the edge and then pulled back; he whimpered and wiggled his hips. He couldn’t concentrate on anything; he only heard snippets of conversation between the two Masters. He over heard something about Atobe wanting to extend his enterprise into restaurants or strip-clubs, and Sanada in the middle of buying out another company. It was babble, just noise coming from either of them.
That was when Kirihara heard it, a quiet conversation slowly gaining momentum. In the booth next to them sat a pair of Vampires, alone. No servants and no pets. They leaned onto the table to get closer to one another, whispering harshly.
“Aren’t you tired of them? Taking out resources and threatening our society?”
“Yeah, we all are, but what can we do about it?”
“I’ve heard some rumors …”
“Rumors? About what?”
Kirihara caught himself leaning closer, trying to hear past the music. Sanada must have noticed him move because he crooked his fingers harshly, less to cause pleasure and more for a quick shot of pain. Kirihara jumped; he took the hint. Listen without making it look like you’re listening.
“It’s from a Master from the islands …apparently, he’s in close with someone high-up and they’re thinking about changing the way we live.”
“How do you mean?”
“Getting rid of the fledglings, the accidents. Not the ones that the Masters create, the ones that are made by lesser Vampires, and the ones made by accident. “
“Really?”
“As far as I’ve heard! They’re looking for help.”
“Like, extermination teams?”
“Pretty much. There’s too many of them for a small group of us to take out, so they need as many as they can get!”
“What about the humans? This will be a big chunk of the population, even houses will need to be destroyed, it’s not something that can be easily over looked!”
“Cattle. That’s what I think they should do. Treat them like their own food, breed them so we don’t lose the stock and keep them. That way when we start killing in large numbers it won’t matter if they know!”
“We all know what happened last time the Humans knew about us!”
“There’s more of us this time, and lots of powerful ones too! Apparently the one he’s working for is incredibly powerful, and incredibly old!”
Sanada crooked his fingers again, a small reminder not to react to what he heard. How couldn’t he? They were talking about wiping out their own kind and turning humans into farm animals. If it was normal stick-it-to-the-man talk he wouldn’t have cared, but the idea came from someone else. Planting the seed, so to speak. And if it was a Master from the islands there was a good chance it was Kite.
“Sanada-san, Atobe-san,” A Vampire approached their table, smiling. “May I sit?”
Sanada nodded and the Vampire slid into the booth beside them. He leaned his elbows on the table, completely ignoring Kirihara. Servants were about as important as furniture. They neither hear nor see anything.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, word through the lines is that you two are teaming up? Sharing your district?”
Atobe frowned, “and?”
“I never took you two for the partnering up types? A few humans attack you and you join together? Pardon me if that seems a little …odd …”
Sanada leaned forward around Kirihara, “you’re doubting us?”
“There are many that doubt you now-a-days. Siding with the humans.”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Atobe purred, “and besides, unlike the rest of you who hide in your darkened mansions, we live in the light. We have to carry on as if we were leading human lives, and these attacks are looking a little suspicious …”
The Vampires eyes sparkled, and he grinned, “so you’re as tired of the humans and fledglings as the rest of us, hm?”
Sanada’s hand flexed inside of him as he tried not to show his surprise. Kirihara squeaked and let his head fall back; furniture, he was furniture! He neither listened nor reacted. This was exactly why he had been sent here. Yet somehow he was supposed to act like he wasn’t paying attention. He wasn’t that good of an actor.
“What are you getting at?” Sanada frowned.
“Have you heard the rumors?”
It was Atobe’s turn to lean forward, “rumors?” He pushed the Shifters away from his lap, letting them curl up on the booth beside him.
“I hear there’s a plan to wipe-out the fledglings that do not contribute to our society. Word has it they’re also talking about enslaving the humans, making us leaders, as we should be!”
“Where have you heard these rumors?” Atobe smiled, leaning forward to act as if he was interested.
The Vampire shrugged, “the last few days they’ve been floating around, gaining more popularity. There’s still a few Masters that enjoy the way things are now, but there are many more of us that don’t. What do you think?”
Atobe tilted his head, smiling, “it’s something to think on …” Gakuto chose that moment to slide from the bench and slip in between Atobe’s knees. The Master smiled at the other Vampire who took the hint and bowed his head.
“Think on it and get back to me,” he smiled again and carried on his way.
Atobe glanced to Sanada and frowned, “well …that was interesting.”
Sanada snorted; not his choice of words. “I’d like to know why I haven’t heard of this until now.”
“Maybe they were waiting to make sure we’d accept the idea and not ...rebel?”
Sanada sighed, frowning. He still didn’t like the idea that he had been left in the dark, his ears weren’t picking up as much as they should have been.
Kirihara keened, Sanada had been absent-mindedly rocking his hand, stroking that spot that made him want to scream. When Sanada realized what he was doing he chuckled.
“It’s bad manners for a servant to come before his Master.” He purred against the back of Kirihara’s neck.
“Then get your fingers out of me!” Kirihara growled.
Atobe moaned and pulled on Gakuto’s bright red hair, “bad manners or not, I’m about ready to leave. My pets are a little too talented.” He readjusted himself and pushed his pets from the booth. “Good night Sanada.”
Kirihara wiggled out of the booth immediately after, hands finding Sanada’s. He didn’t know what it was, but now that Sanada’s hands weren’t on him he felt empty. Figuratively speaking. This was the man that raped him, and yet here he was going nuts because that same person wasn’t close enough. It was probably safe to bet he was past it now. He had been quietly dealing with it in his own way. Truth be told, it wasn’t entirely Sanada’s fault. They found out much later on that people close to him were affected by his rage; Sanada, who he shared blood with; and Tezuka, who was a strong psychic. He didn’t blame Tezuka, who also in a sense raped him, so was it fair to hold it against Sanada? To hold him solely accountable, when it was his rage that had started it?
Their shared blood was also what was drawing them together. In a way it should have bothered him, but once his mind settled onto the fact that this was the way it was going to be and there was no use fighting, he found himself drawn to Sanada.
Especially now that he was turned on; ‘hot and bothered’ being the term.
Sanada grabbed their jackets and Kirihara slipped into the warm coat. He laced his arm through Sanada’s elbow and let him lead him to the parked limo. His body was trembling, but not from the cold.
Sanada chuckled and bent down to nuzzle at Kirihara’s neck, “where would you like me to take you?”
Words failed him; Sanada’s lips on his neck, his warm breath, the slide of fangs across his heated skin. “Where ever you’re going.” He stuttered and licked his dry lips.
Sanada made a pleased noise in the back of his throat, “since you can’t claim to be inebriated, should I take this as a good sign?” He had been dealing with Kirihara’s mood-swings in stride, knowing full well the reason for them, and knowing better than to push him in a direction he didn't wish to go.
“Yeah, oh yeah, very good sign!” Kirihara slid into the limo and Sanada followed.
He wasted no time; as soon as Sanada told the driver where to go he threw off his jacket and straddled his lap. Their kiss was heated and almost desperate. The only time he had ever felt this was in the dream with Atobe, and that had been induced. This was real; it was like he had been denying himself by avoiding Sanada. The closer he was, the better his body felt, blood calling to blood.
Sanada’s hands gripped his backside in a bruising grip.
He bucked and moaned, hands fumbling at the buttons on Sanada’s shirt. He slid his hands inside the collar of Sanada’s shirt and splayed his hands across his cool chest. Sanada grabbed a handful of curls and yanked his head back, drawing a cry. His fangs sank into his collar again and he ground their hips harder together.
The ride seemed too short and before he knew it Sanada was pulling away from him and shoving him out of the vehicle. He stumbled but Sanada’s arms wrapped around him before he fell. He half stumbled, half jogged into the building with Sanada’s hands around his hips and on his rear.
Was he seriously doing this? After everything? It felt like he was waiting for another shoe to drop. This all seemed too easy, too good to be true.
Sanada pushed him up against the wall in the elevator, mouth latched to his neck as he pulled their hips together.
Right now, he didn’t care if there was another shoe.
They stumbled out of the elevator and down the hall to the gathering room, scattering frightened fledglings. He didn’t care who was in the room, all he cared about was getting Sanada’s clothes off.
This was all him. No one had put a spell on him, no one was controlling him. His shields were tightly in place, his amulet was cleansed and working strong. These were his own feelings; the feelings in his stomach rolled and purred, like the anger he usually felt. Only this time it was something else. His anger waited patiently at the side lines, waiting until he needed it. But he didn’t, not right now.
His back hit the closed door to the first bedroom in the hall and he fumbled behind him while Sanada shredded his shirt. The door swung open and they staggered in, Sanada’s foot kicking the door closed behind him. They collapsed to the floor in a tangle of shredded clothing and limbs. Sanada’s coat and shirt were gone and he was fumbling with his belt as he attempted to devour Kirihara from the mouth down. The Hunter wriggled out of his shorts and managed to only get one leg out of them before the Master hooked his arms under his knees.
His mind distantly registered that they had nothing to make it easier on him and he was about to try and get his mouth and brain to protest when Sanada pressed two wet fingers into him. Make-shift, but it would have to do.
“I’m okay, I’m okay!” He panted, hips lifted completely off the floor so his weight was solely on his shoulders. How he was going to explain the rug-burn later on, he had no idea.
Sanada regarded him for a moment before pushing against him. Kirihara had forgotten just how big he was and he arched in surprise and pain. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since he had been with Niou and he still wasn’t loose enough.
Sanada pushed into him slowly, wincing in pain. “You’re too tight,” he growled, pulling his hips back.
“Dammit!” Kirihara didn’t mean to curse out-loud. “I finally want to do you and I’m too small! What the hell!” He sighed in frustration.
Sanada gaped at him with a look somewhere between being horrified and being amused. He put his hand back down between Kirihara’s legs, trying to stretch him so this wouldn’t hurt either of them. The Hunter wriggled and gasped, whining that he was fine.
He was too close, all Sanada would need to do was put the head in and he’d bust. He breathed deeply and tried to calm himself but Sanada was doing the complete opposite to him. He moved his hips back and tried again, sliding in painfully slowly. He managed to slide in further and Kirihara started to pant and keen, back arching as he was bent double.
Sanada was much taller than him so he spent most of the time staring at his chest, as nice of a view as it was. But he needed something to do with his mouth besides scream and beg. He latched his mouth to Sanada’s shoulder, teeth digging in. The Vampire hissed in shock, shuddering as he tried not to snap his hips forward. He started to slide back out, Kirihara’s body clinging to him.
“You cheated, you only put half in!” He wanted to feel Sanada’s hips against the back of his legs, feel his body cradled between his thighs.
“Akaya,” Sanada chided softly, “I’ll hurt you.”
“No you won’t.” It sounded strange to him, given their history. But for just this one night he wanted to forget about it and enjoy it, let Sanada make up for what happened.
Sanada sighed and moved his hips forward again, sliding in as deeply as he could go. Kirihara’s backside fit against the groove of his hips, his thighs curved around his waist.
“Move, move, please!” Kirihara wiggled.
Sanada did just that. He slowly built a rhythm, careful with the human under him. They were both all too aware of how much damage Sanada could do to him. He kept his power in check, the signs of strain showing.
Kirihara clawed at his sides, heels pushing against him to go faster. He tried, speeding up just slightly. The Hunter suddenly arched and screamed, body spasming as he climaxed. Sanada rested his hands on the carpet by Kirihara’s head, waiting for him to relax.
“Oops,” he smiled in embarrassment, “I don’t usually come so fast …”
Sanada smirked as he pulled out, “I’ll take it as a compliment.” He stood up and made his way to the bathroom.
“Hey, wait!” Kirihara attempted to scramble to his feet but his legs gave up half-way, “what about you!?”
Sanada looked over his shoulder and grinned, “I’ll be back.”
Kirihara frowned. Thanks for the hint Terminator, but what the hell?
Sanada was good to his word and came back a few moments later carrying a bottle.
“Massage oil?” Kirihara frowned. Did he want to know why a Hunter had stashed that in the bathroom? Not really.
“It still works.” Sanada grabbed him around the waist and threw him onto the bed.
Kirihara laughed as Sanada climbed over him.
The rest of their night was spent in the bed. Kirihara’s voice was hoarse from screaming so he resorted to keening and moaning instead. Every way Sanada could bend him he would; he had no idea his hips could be twisted in quite so many directions. He rode Sanada several times and found the Master rather enjoyed letting him top, especially when Kirihara faced away from him so he could get a better view of himself sheathed completely in his body.
Sanada grabbed his hips one last time as he threw his head back, moaning as he collapsed against the bed. Kirihara collapsed against him, inner thighs soaked. He didn’t so much fall asleep as he did pass out, curled in the warmth of Sanada’s body. Warmth he had stolen from their shared blood.
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Colour me Blood red: Human after all