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He stares and he wants.

Wants as the water drips down Charley’s back, rivulets catching in the corners of his eyes, falling like tears onto warm tiles. Wants as Charley’s shoulders rack with tension in a barely restrained sob; hands clenching, knuckles white against the shower wall.

His hand reaches out to touch, to caress, to soothe. Charley’s voice is small and tight; “don’t touch me”. He itches to strip the pain from that voice, to drink the ache in his blood until Charley lies soft and flushed against him.

He moves ever so slightly forward, stepping into the shower as he sees Charley's jaw clench, fangs breaking out over spray soaked lips, water dripping down in paths akin to blood.

“Don’t”; it comes out more like a growl, but he doesn’t pause, doesn't stop the movement of his hand under Charley’s jaw; fingers curling around his ears so softly, like a promise.

Charley is shaking, his arms strained from the weight they’re supporting as he lifts the blonde’s face to meet his own. Charley’s eyes are downturned and sad, and when he speaks it sounds as though he’s choking on it “please don’t ”.

And he has never felt more desperate to answer that plea. The water feels frigid with Charley against him. His beautiful Charley, his perfect cherry, trembling in his arms. The sting of fangs is no surprise to him, crimson spinning threads down his neck towards the drain, Charley feasting desperately on his blood.

He brings his other hand to cradle Charley’s head, blonde locks softened by the water and steam rising from the floor. He wishes he could surround Charley in warmth, in him until the outside no longer mattered, but these moments only ever lasted for so long.

Charley’s teeth drag across his neck as he moves, sharp but not yet breaking skin as lips ghost over the hollow of his throat, resting on his chest over his heart. Charley’s tears are warm and unexpected, dripping onto his skin as he pulls Charley that much tighter to his chest, relishing in this moment of weakness.

Charley stays entranced, trapped in this embrace until the water runs cold, shocking him out of what this threatens to become. Charley's movements are quick and almost clumsy as he stumbles out of the bathroom.

He knows they won’t talk about it, not yet. He’s fine with that for now, fine waiting an eternity for Charley to decide.