Harringrove Harvest Week- Day 6
Prompt: Vampire x Hanahaki Disease
Warnings: Referenced past character death
Billy wakes up. That’s all wrong. He wasn’t supposed to wake up.
None of this was supposed to happen.
His best friend, a vampire. A beautiful vampire he couldn’t help but fall for. The cause of his death and the cause of him opening his eyes days after his broken heart stopped beating.
He’s pissed.
The room is dark. Kind of like everything these days. He doesn’t need to see him to know he’s here. Billy growls, “Why am I alive? What did you do to me, Steve!”
Steve’s voice is so soft, in contrast with the things he’s done. It would make Billy’s blood boil, if he wasn’t recently undead.
“I saved you.”
Billy turns around, trying to find Steve. Velvet curtains. Antique wood. Bullshit tacky vampire aesthetic. He brought him back to his house. His bullshit creepy fucking hideout.
Another hot flash of rage strikes Billy’s still heart. He yells until his voice goes raspy, “No! You damned me to suffering. Eternal fucking heartbreak! I hate you!”
“You didn’t before. You bloomed for me.”
This ancient asshole and his bullshit flowery language. Billy finally catches a glimpse of Steve out of the corner of his eye, lounging all casually cloaked in darkness, like this was some fucked up cliché and not his fucking life on the line.
Billy turns on him, marches closer to drive his words like a stake right into that unfeeling soul of Steven Harrington, “Dont fucking put it like that. I suffocated. I choked to death on fucking rose thorns. For you!”
Billy’s death was slow. Miserable. Unexplained. Steve wasn’t there to comfort him then. Not from the first time a single pedal with two drops of blood landed in his palm until the day he died a month later. That only drew out his pain.
But Steve doesn’t see it that way. “That’s why I saved you. You loved me.”
No shit. Why else was he coughing up red and black roses for four fucking weeks? Feeling his lungs and his throat be torn open by thorns and filled with blood and sap. Of course he loved him.
It’s Steve that cursed him to this. Billy needs him to know that. “But you didn’t love me.”
“I couldn’t. I’m dead. More than a century old. My heart doesn’t beat, and it doesn’t feel.” Steve explains simply, cold and logical, until he falters. For just a moment, vulnerability seeps into his words. Almost like an apology that things ended up this way, but not quite, “I couldn’t.”
Billy takes that vulnerability and twists it into what he needs to hear, “Did you want to love me?”
“Yes. That’s why you’re here, Billy.” Shit. He wasn’t expecting to get that.
Billy stands in stunned silence, the fight suddenly drained from him like the color in his life. Steve can tell, he always can, and he always tries to make things right after. “It hurt to watch you hurting, but it had to happen this way. For us to be together.”
That’s all Billy ever wanted. Was for Steve to put some fucking effort back in for every single speech and breath and drop of blood Billy had traded away for him. Does it matter now that it’s too late? He’s already dead. He’ll only suffer more if he doesn’t give him a chance.
But he’s scared of forever. “Are you just sweet talking, or do you mean it this time?”
“I swear by it.” Steve assures him, taking strides to be the one to reach out, and hold Billy’s hands in his own.
He used to call Billy a weak human, when they’d meet and he was covered in bruises. But Billy isn’t human at all anymore, and he won’t bend to Steve’s every whim. Not letting go of his hands, he challenges, “Prove it.”
“I gave you life and immortality.” Steve acts like that means anything. Like that’s what he wanted.
It’s not bad, but there’s something missing. Billy decides to make it clear what he wants, pulling himself even closer to Steve.
“So fucking prove it by spending it with me.”
“That’s easy. I let you go once. I don’t want to lose you again.”
So Steve wasn’t just bloodthirsty. He really meant it.
Billy lets his walls come all the way down now. Like that small declaration was enough to make up for it. Maybe it is. He’s never been resurrected by a vampire who refused to love him before to know.
He lunges forward, and pulls Steve into him by the collar of his shirt for an embrace. It’s rougher than it needs to be, full of passion and anger and something in between, “You better keep your damn promise, Steve.”
“I will, Billy.” Steve promises, delicate, claw-like fingers in Billy’s dry curls. This is the most emotion Billy has ever felt from him, and he’s so relieved and happy to hear Steve say, “I’m sorry.”
Scared to lose it now, he demands, more like a question, “Make it up to me then.”
“I already told you I will. Do you trust me?” Steve holds Billy’s face gently. So gently. Billy can’t help but lean into the touch.
Billy almost forgets that Steve was speaking to him. That’s his charm, the reason why Billy fell so deeply in love his body couldn’t survive it.
He’s still mad though. Giving Steve the satisfaction of his trust makes him feel too easy,
“I shouldn’t.”
“But do you?” Steve sees through him, of course he does.
In Steve’s arms, with more time to process, that’s easier to deal with. Billy is sated now, the rage inside him replaced with peace now that he’s this close to getting what he wants.
Part of him wonders if that change will be permanent. He’s never seen passion like that from Steve. Vampires are bullshit.
“Yes. For some stupid fucking reason, yeah, I trust you. And I love you too, asshole.” Billy's true feelings never changed though. So much for the unfeeling monster act.
He feels sadness too, in the silence that follows his declaration to Steve. After everything, he needs to hear it back. He clutches onto Steve’s button up tighter, “Say it back.”
And then Steve’s smiling, alluring fangs on display, making Billy run his teeth over his own to feel what it’s like. It’s going to take a while to get used to this.
Especially once Steve promises, giving in to what Billy wanted all this time, “You know you don’t have to ask anymore. I love you, Billy.”
It’s only then that Billy truly blooms.
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