"Possession"

 

Summary:  It was there in the way she surrendered to his will as he pulled her to him… Possession was nine tenths of the law, and she wasn’t about to complain. 1^st in series.  Zero x Yuuki

 

He had always been protective, perhaps even a bit possessive, but now he was obsessive.  He was always there, showing up when she least expected him, grabbing her wrist or wrapping an arm around her.  Of course, she had made him swear not to leave, so she couldn’t really blame him. He wouldn’t let the Night class guys anywhere near her.  He’d nearly killed Aidou just for looking at her.  It had taken her almost an hour to calm him down enough to return to the dormitories.  It was as though he saw her as his personal property and, though she cared for him and wanted him near, sometimes it was frustrating.

But in a way she understood.

What they were doing was, by its very nature, intimate.

They had always been close, or as close as Zero allowed anyone to come to him.  It was only natural that this would draw them closer if it did not tear them apart.  And she would not let it tear them apart; so really, it was inevitable, this desperate and possessive need that had gripped him.

There was something inherently intimate in their actions, in this new bond, even if they had not been sharing such a dark secret.  His arms wrapped around her, fingers tangled in her hair; the brush of his tongue on her skin and the soft huffs of his labored breathing.  The way her eyes slid shut in pain… or was it ecstasy?

Was it any wonder he was possessive then?  They shared a piece of their souls each time she gave him life once more.

This was why the vampires of old were painted as tempters and seductresses.  There was a sensuality to the act of drinking another’s blood that could not be ignored. It was the giving of oneself for the life of another, like a mother to her child, like a lover to their beloved.  This was why it was so horrible to forcibly take it – it was rape in nearly every sense of the word.  The body enraptured, the soul stripped bare.

This was madness…

Madness because she wanted this.  Madness because she craved this, almost as much as he.

At first it had been a sort of obligation, or maybe an act of compassion.  His body had rejected the blood tablets and he needed something in order to survive.  He was her friend, almost her brother, and they had been through so much, both of them.  They understood one another as no one else could, even if they didn’t always agree – especially about Vampires.  And it hurt to see him in pain, physical and emotional.  It was so wrong, so unfair, that he had been forced to become that which he hated most in the world.  And she had just wanted to make it go away, to help in any way she could and to make him see that life could still be worth living.  She hadn’t wanted him to give up, because despite all their teasing and argumentative banter Yuuki and Zero meant more to each other than anyone else.  And she couldn’t lose that, couldn’t let him lose that. It was that simple, that complicated.  She could not let him die.

The first time she had willingly given herself to him, practically forced herself upon him, she had been so afraid.  A vampire was feeding on her.  But this wasn’t just a vampire, this was Zero.  Zero who mocked her and protected her and always got stuck in detention with her.  Zero who somehow appeared from nowhere whenever Aidou had her cornered and vulnerable.  Zero, whom she had gently nursed and cared for when his parents had been killed four years before, slowly bringing him out of depression.  Zero who walked in on her while she was brushing her teeth in their “father’s” bathroom, his shirt already falling to the floor, who would stand up even to Kaname Kuran when he felt the Pureblood was stepping over the line, who bandaged her when she bled and had tried so hard to fight the monster he was becoming.

How could she fear Zero?

And so she had made up her mind not to.  And she hadn’t.  It was so easy to forget the fear if she concentrated on those memories instead of her earliest ones.  So easy to ignore the almost pain when the warmth of his mouth on her neck felt so good.  So easy to remember all that he was to her and why she had decided to do this when she saw the self-loathing in his eyes.

The second time she had offered herself to him he had rejected her and somehow that had hurt more than the piercing of his fangs.  But then, the next day, he had taken her without hesitation and she had known that he must have been at his limit.  That time it was so easy to turn her back and make the offer.  She had not had a second thought as she hitched up her hair.  And when he had pressed her to the closed door, her wrists secured above them, his chest to her back, there had only been a timid curiosity.  And then he had turned her around with a sharp tug and pressed her back insistently against the doors, as if touching her back and hands had not been enough.  And though the look in his eyes had chilled her the only fear her mind held was that she would fail to save him and someday he would be so lost that he would not be even this gentle with her. 

And afterwards she could not forget the feel of his hard body pressed to hers, trapping her between his frame and the door.  It had felt good.  Sinfully so.  After that she would have given anything to save him… and she had tried.

She would never know how he had found her the night of the dance, but the sight of him charging in to save her had made her heart race.  She was afraid, afraid that he would stop her from saving him, afraid that he would kill the one person who might be able to.  She was willing to make any sacrifice just to see him alright.  But he was willing to make the same sacrifice for her.  He wouldn’t let her sacrifice herself for him and she would not allow him to sacrifice his only chance, so she had stopped him from killing the creature who had turned him into this.  It hadn’t mattered in the end.  Shizuka had been dead the following morning, and Zero had been at a loss.  The last four years he had been bent on revenge and he had fully intended to die with his tormentor, but she was gone, and he was not.  And there was still the issue of his brother to deal with.

And then there was Yuuki.

Yuuki would not let him break his promise. She would not let him leave her. And he wasn’t sure that he wanted to.

That was when it had truly begun.

He had sought her out a few nights later.  Panting and desperate, his eyes glowing crimson.  She had barely managed to lead him to the safe seclusion of the Chairman’s bathroom before he had pulled her flush against him, mumbling a whispered sorry against her skin before laving it with his tongue and biting down.  His hands spread flat across her front, spanning her stomach, sending warmth through her entire being.  She had nearly whimpered with the intensity of it.

And soon she came to recognize his need almost before he did, pulling him gently away from their duties and offering herself to him.  He had long since stopped complaining.  And she was aching for his touch.

The gentle scraping of fangs against her skin, the tender lapping of his tongue, the slow creep of his fingers until they brushed bare skin just beneath the hem of her shirt...  And when his fangs sank into her neck she felt nothing but pleasure and the hazy warmth of desire - the desire to be closer to him, to feel his heated skin against her own.

It was no longer a duty, no longer a resolve, to allow him to drink of her, it was her pleasure. An empty classroom at lunchtime, her dorm room in the middle of the night, behind a grove of trees after a horse riding expedition… Anytime he needed her, anywhere, she came eagerly, longing to feel the tender possessiveness of his caresses, the gentle demand of his lips.

And she knew he felt it too, these invisible bonds that pulled them tighter together with each passing day.  She could feel it in the surety of his fingers as they slid up the bare skin of her back beneath her blouse.  She could hear it in the husky sighs and pleased groans he breathed against her as he finished.  He was no longer hesitant and tentative but, rather, eager and needy. 

And if he was a bit rougher with Aidou and Akatsuki she didn’t mind.  And if he was less civil to Kaname when he was overly solicitous toward her she didn’t complain.  And if the hero she had once idolized and longed for noticed that she was distant and uncommunicative she didn’t care.  Because the only person she wanted, the only person she needed was Zero.  And he needed her as well.

She didn’t analyze, she didn’t question.  Perhaps she was afraid of what she would find.  She just lived and let it happen.  What they were to one another did not matter.  She only knew that she was his, and he was hers.  Labels meant nothing, his touch… everything.

And as they grew closer it became easier and she felt that she knew him better than she ever had.  She knew his likes, his dislikes, his past, his plans, his desires, his darkness as well as his light.  And he knew her as well.

She knew that the moist heat of his breath on her ear made her melt, and the scrape of her nails on his back made him shiver.  She knew that in the middle of the night he sometimes tossed with nightmares and that in them the monster in the darkness was himself.  She knew her touch on his brow could sooth even his bloodlust and her whispered assurances gave him back his hope and drove away his despair.

He knew that when she trembled it was because she longed for him, and that she loved the feel of his hands tangled in her hair as he drank of her.  He knew she still feared that he’d leave her, still regretted that she hadn’t saved him.  He knew she sometimes could not sleep wondering if there would come a day he would not recognize her, a day she would have to fulfill her promise and remove the Bloody Rose from its hiding place in her drawer.

He knew her fears.  He knew her pleasures.

She liked it best when he had her trapped against the wall, wrists shackled by his hands above her head, his body pressed to hers as if he owned her.  And, in a way, he did.  And afterwards he’d press soft kisses up her neck and along her jaw and it was almost as if they were making love instead of doing something sacrilegious.

The first time he had kissed her after, the taste of her own blood on his lips had been surprisingly sweet.  She had wondered vaguely if this was the reason all vampires seemed to want her.  And then all thought was drowned out by the gentle caress of his tongue on hers and she lost herself to the sensation.

He had confessed to her once that the thought of Kuran sinking his fangs into her made his blood boil and she had assured him that he had nothing to fear.  Her feelings for the Master Vampire were no longer romantic.  Truthfully, the thought of anyone but Zero drinking her blood was frightening.

But Zero… Zero’s touch was electric, his desire enticing.  His soul called to hers through his pleading eyes and haggard breath and shaking limbs.  And it felt so good to be needed by him, to know that only she could slake his thirst and satiate his hunger.  Even better was the feel of his skin on hers and the sure knowledge that he wanted more than her blood – he wanted all of her.  And she gave to him willingly her body and her soul, a slave to his passions, a slave to her own need.  And what had begun with good intentions was now so much more.   What had once been need was now desire.  What had once been loathsome was now pleasure.  This connection was more than physical, it was spiritual.  And they were both content.

And if he was perhaps a bit forceful with her after seeing Kaname embrace her that was alright.  And if he pulled her roughly against him anytime Aidou walked by that was okay.  And if he pressed his lips to hers, slow and intense, because he knew they were watching she reveled in the knowledge that he wanted them to know that she was his.

And she was his, wholeheartedly and without reservation.  It was obvious in the way she sought him out after the briefest separation, in the way she had ceased to complain when he yanked her abruptly from conversation and glared daggers at the Night class guys who were constantly overly friendly with her. 

It was clear in the way she tilted back her head to give him better access to her smooth neck.  Clear in the moan she released as his fangs broke her skin.  Clear in the shiver of pleasure that danced through her as his arms encircled her. 

It was there in the way she whispered his name, pressing kisses to his hair, as long tapered fingers ran down her back and up her sides.  There in the way she surrendered to his will as he pulled her to him and dipped his face to be buried in her slim shoulder.  There in the way she drew him impossibly closer and in the heat of her response when his lips grazed hers.

She was completely, irrevocably his.

And there were times she wondered how their relationship might have progressed had he never been cursed with this existence.  It seemed impossible to consider a path where they were not bound to one another.  If she had been offered the chance to go back and rewrite their strange history she was not certain she would have, and she knew that regardless of the ending she would still have chosen to be with him.  Having known the thrill of his embrace she would never be able to give it up.  Having known the taste of his lips she would never be able to say no.

So when he pulled her to him in darkness she welcomed his touch with open arms and gasped as he found her pulse.  And his guilt was erased in the way she pressed back against him and wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him closer.  And all her fears were laid to rest with whispered promises against her heated flesh.  And even when he didn’t say it she could hear it in his husky, rumbling, tone.  Mine, mine, Yuuki, you are mine.  And each repetition rang through her, an illicit thrill.  And she didn’t even think to contradict him.  How could she?   There was no other she would allow such liberties.  No other she would submit to so wholly, and more than that: so willingly.  She would have sacrificed anything for this pleasure, this torture, this insanity.  A parting nip and a languorous lick to the twin puncture wounds on her neck, and then the hot curl of his breath in her ear, followed by the sensuous slide of his tongue between her parted lips as strong hands moved up her sides and nimble fingers toyed with the buttons of her blouse, but did not slip them from their holds.  And she wanted so much more than he was willing to take.  But she would force him no further than this, knowing that in time he would take what was already his.  But the decision had to be his.

And if Yori wondered where the two of them disappeared to she never asked.  And if their “father” observed that their constant bickering had been replaced by constant contact he never commented.  And if Kaname noticed that the scent of her blood was nearly always fresh he did not remark.  The answers were written in his arm encircling her waist and the look of devotion in her eyes.

And it was far from perfect, but they were happy.

And yet they knew it couldn’t last forever.

He was an ex-human Vampire, the lowest class, the worst kind of monster, and it was only through his will and her touch that he remained sane.

It was inevitable that they would send another hunter after him.  They were both prepared.  What she had not been prepared for was to emerge form class one day to the sight of him sprawled on the ground, head down, eyes shadowed by silver bangs, expression full of despair.  He bore no weapons, made no move to defend himself as the hunter leveled the gun.  And in that moment something within her snapped and she was throwing herself before him as he had done for her so many times.  And she was surprised by her own rage.

He had given up again, she could see it in his eyes and it made her so angry.  Angry that he had to suffer this, angry that he wasn’t willing to fight it, was breaking his promise to stay with her.

And as she stood between him and the hunter’s gun, staff extended and raised protectively, she felt a flood of emotions she couldn’t begin to describe.

There was so much yet to explore, so much yet to share.  And he could not leave her until he had truly been with her.  Because there would never be another, not if she lived for eternity.  So he could not leave her, could not make this sacrifice.  She would not allow it.

“Your life is mine, Zero Kiriyu, don’t forget that.” She grit out and when she felt his awed confusion she almost smirked.  Alright, so maybe he wasn’t the only one who was a little bit possessive in this relationship.  But if she belonged to him then how much more did he belong to her?  The one who gave him life…

 

Author’s Notes:  Hey there!  A little Vampire Knight fanfiction.  You can blame this one on Sanela, it’s her fault that I tracked this manga down and stayed up all night reading it.  And you can blame the plot bunnies too, because they would not let me sleep until this was written down.  Some notes: this will, of course, only be “accurate” to the manga plot up through Volume 4 Chapter 19, because that’s all that was available when it was written.  Another note, no they are not “sleeping” together and I did not mean to imply that they were.  That’s why she says it’s “almost as though they were making love”, and why he doesn’t unbutton her shirt, why she says she won’t force him to take anything more, and why she says that he’s never truly been with her.  But, yes, they are having some rather heavy make-out sessions.  Why?  Honestly there’s something amazingly sensual about a guy with his face buried in a girl’s neck.  You know you all think so too.  That’s why women are fascinated by stories of vampires.  We’re built that way.  I read somewhere that the most sensual spot for most women is their neck.  Then there’s the possessive way Zero holds her to him in the manga, and the way he pressed her against the double doors when they were preparing for the dance.  The way he tries to protect her… there’s definitely sexual tension there and there’s no way that they would be able to engage in something so intimate repeatedly without taking it farther.