Khamuel clattered his way down the front steps, and leapt off the bottom stair into the long grass that dominated the front yard. He looked up at the moon, just starting to show herself over the houses opposite -- she was full, red, and hungry for blood. He licked his lips, and closed his eyes for a moment, listening to her song.

Strong arms grabbed him around the middle and lifted him into the air.

Khamuel let out a shriek, opening his eyes to find the world moving around him. The next moment, he was flung over a bony shoulder, knocking the breath out of him. But the world stilled, and he found himself staring down at a broad back, clothed in a familiar tank top, and long legs, in familiar jeans. Long legs that were taking him back up the front stairs.

"What the fuck are you doing...!" he spat out finally, furious and just a little frantic. He struggled, but the arms holding him were strong, and he was in too awkward a position to get the upper hand.

"Taking you back inside." Kash's voice was as cheerful as it ever was when he had something up his sleeve.

"It's a full moon!" Khamuel yelled at him, hoping that would be enough to make him realise, to make him stop with this idiocy and let Khamuel go before the moon's pull got the better of him.

"I know." Kash's voice was incredibly mild as he opened the front door and carried Khamuel inside.

"You stupid fucking walking hunk of venison, put me the fuck --"

"If you keep that up," Kash interrupted him, "you'll get them all out here, curious to know what's going on."

Khamuel froze, the rest of his curses poised, unspoken, on the tip of his tongue. If all of them came to see what the racket was, if all of them stepped out of their rooms and surrounded him, the resultant stink of blood would be too much for him. And he knew without even having to ask that Hanael would not forgive him if he took his hunt-enraged bloodlust out on these household members.

He pressed his lips together, his rage burning silently inside him.

"I hate you," he muttered against Kash's back, and Kash laughed softly.

"I know." Kash continued to carry him up the main stairs and down the hall, and Khamuel hung against him limply, not knowing what to do; he was not in a coherent enough state to make any kind of rational decision right now. All he knew was that he wanted to get out of here, and fast.

Kash carried him into the room the three of them now shared, and shut the door behind him. Then, at last, he swung Khamuel down from his shoulder and put him back on his feet again, in front of him.

Khamuel stared up at him, his rage boiling up again at Kash's satisfied smirk.

"What the fuck is this all in aid of?!" he demanded.

"What's going on? Isn't it a full moon?" That was Hanael's voice, from behind him, and Khamuel whirled around, startled.

Only then did he fully realise that Kash bringing him into this room meant that yes, Hanael was here. Right where he'd left him, in fact, in bed with a book; only he was sitting up now, no longer curled up comfortably like a cat, and the book was discarded on the bed behind him. His expression was worried concern as he met Khamuel's gaze.

Kash had trapped him in a room with not one, but two Walkers, on the night of a full moon.

Khamuel backed off a few steps, and then without even stopping to think further, he darted to the corner furthest away from both of them, pressing himself back against the walls.

"And here I thought you would want to let Hanael know," Kash said, his hands on his hips, his expression still smirky and satisfied. Khamuel realised, then, what this was all about.

He looked away from both of them, trying not to notice how strong their bloodscent was, co-mingling to make something truly tantalizing.

"...there's been enough changes lately. I figured it could wait." His gaze lingered on the window, currently closed, and he wondered if he could make a break for it through there. Could he undo the lock and pull the window up before Kash caught up with him?

"But this is a good change! It's worth sharing now." Kash's voice was insistent, and Khamuel closed his eyes, feeling suddenly angry with him for being incapable of understanding.

"Look, can't we just let it go!" The bloodlust was heightening his anger; or maybe his anger was heightening the bloodlust. Either way, he was losing it, and fast.

"Why?"

"Hanael's never seen me when the hunt's on me!" he snapped out. Only then did he realise that he'd just admitted such a thing aloud, in front of not one but both of them, and he growled, his hands balling into fists. He screwed his eyes tightly shut, wishing he could just block both of them out completely.

"Khamuel." Hanael's soft voice intruded on his senses all the same, as compassionate and as warm as always. He kept his eyes squeezed shut.

"I know exactly what you are. I always have."

That made his eyes snap open. Hanael was sitting forward on the bed now, watching him closely; his gaze captured Khamuel's, as entreating as his voice.

"Nothing you could do could ever make me afraid of you. Don't be ashamed to be yourself around me."

They stared at each other. Hanael's expression was so gentle, so open; even despite not really knowing what was going on, he was still giving his all to reassuring Khamuel, as if that was all that mattered to him. Khamuel silently asked the moon, why didn't you send him to me a hundred years ago?

"Kash," he growled demandingly. He found himself unable to look away from Hanael, but he did not want to reward that sweetness, that trust in him, with the full brunt of his bloodlust in action. And he had a pretty good idea what Kash wanted.

He heard footsteps, scented approaching blood, and then Kash was looming in his vision, sitting himself down on the end of the bed directly between the two of them. Kash grinned at him for a moment, and then looked over his shoulder at Hanael.

"There's just two things you need to know," he told him. "One, is that vampires can't kill Walkers by drinking from them."

Even from this distance Khamuel could hear Hanael's sharp intake of breath as he realised what that meant. Then he must have moved, for Khamuel could see him again, just beyond Kash's shoulder, his gaze on Khamuel again, his eyes wide and full of sudden hope.

Khamuel's bloodlust surged at the sight. His fingers scrabbled at the wall, seeking something to hold him back and finding nothing. He knew Kash wanted to do this his way, knew it might even be better to do this Kash's way... but he had very little control left.

"Kash!" he growled, more demanding now, but unable to voice anything more coherent. Kash turned back to him at once, and his eyes sparkled with anticipation.

"I'm ready," he said.

"Wait, what's the second thing?"

Khamuel only just managed to hold himself back. Kash turned his head a little towards Hanael again, directing his voice over his shoulder, but his gaze remained on Khamuel.

"The second thing is that I get off on being bitten." His words and his gaze were a challenge to Khamuel, and the vampire was more than ready to answer it.

"Wait, what?!"

Khamuel heard Hanael's flabbergasted reply, but only dimly; he was already launching himself out of the corner, aiming straight for Kash. He knocked him back onto the bed, landing firmly on top of him, and without stopping to consider anything further, sunk his teeth into his bare neck.

The blood was warm, and thick, and so damn good as it flowed out of Kash and into him. He suckled hard, his teeth digging deep into the skin, so frustrated by the buildup that he was harsh, unforgiving in his enjoyment now that it was his. Kash's pulse, fast and frenetic, resounded inside him, a staccato rhythm to complement the moon's joyous warbling.

He sensed movement and noise outside of him, but his eyes were closed, blocking it all out; he was entirely focused within, his only thoughts on the blood, the life force, the warmth that filled him up, that was all that mattered to him in these moments.

When at last his bloodlust was satiated, when the roar in his ears had receded, he came back to himself fully, and found himself surprised all over again by the unfamiliarity of his victim still bleeding, still having a pulse. Yet he still needed to see it with his own eyes to be sure.

Tentatively, he raised himself from Kash's neck, just far enough to see his face.

Kash was very much alive, all right; alive and loving it, from the look of it. There was something so openly wanton, so lustful, about his expression, that it hit Khamuel hard and unexpected, right in the groin. He'd seen enough of Kash's wanton expressions over the last few weeks to be familiar with them, but never this strong, and never caused so directly by his actions.

Kash's eyes cracked open, just a little, and then he mumbled something incoherent, and a hand reached up behind Khamuel's neck, pulling him down into a sudden, demanding kiss.

Khamuel froze for only a moment, and then he was returning the kiss, meeting the demanding tone with a forcefulness of his own, the leftover blood in his mouth mingling with their saliva, giving him another taste of it. Their tongues fought for dominance, neither of them prepared to give up control of the kiss to the other.

"If you two keep that up much longer, I might have to get jealous." That was Hanael's voice, whispering practically in his ear.

Khamuel jack-knifed up out of the kiss, alarmed. He was kneeling on Kash's chest, pinning him to the bed, and Hanael was leaning over them. And he was smirking, a smirk that would not have been out of place on Kash's face, and his gaze as it met Khamuel's danced with amusement.

Kash's arm reached out, lightning fast, and grabbed one of Hanael's arms, yanking it out from under him. Hanael fell against the bed next to them, and burst out laughing.

Khamuel stared at Hanael, at his relaxed, happy expression, at the gaze that met his with nothing but compassion, despite having just watched him feed hungrily in full bloodlust. He felt a grin cracking his lips, and he sent a silent prayer up to the moon. I know I asked you why you didn't send him a hundred years ago, but the truth is, I'm just glad you sent him at all.

He scrambled off Kash's chest and onto Hanael's, struck with a sudden urge to hold him just as he was, keep him that way forever, before he moved and the moment passed them by. Hanael smiled up at him, and a strange but not uncomfortable feeling of warmth, relief and gratitude swelled his heart.

Kash rolled over towards them, leaning on his elbow, one hand holding the wound on his neck, but a smirk on his face as well. And Khamuel knew that Kash had been right, once again; that he'd done exactly the right thing in forcing him back inside the house tonight.

As Kash let go of his neck, reaching out to brush Khamuel's lips with his blood-stained fingers, Khamuel sent an extra thought up to the moon.