Random BL One-Shots

Blood Ties

The city was restless, cloaked in a fog that seemed almost unnatural. Orion stood on the rooftop, his cold eyes scanning the streets below. Though centuries had passed since he had first walked among humans, the weight of time hadn't dulled his senses. The world had changed, but not enough. The darkness that always lurked beneath its surface remained only now it was carefully hidden behind bright lights and noisy distractions.

But tonight, something was different. He could feel it.
Orion's silver hair caught in the wind as his mind wandered back to the past, to a time when he was still human. The memories were faint, like the lingering taste of an old, forgotten wine. His humanity had been taken from him, violently and without his consent. A betrayal by someone he once trusted—a mentor who had lured him into the world of vampires with promises of power, only to leave him alone in the night, struggling to control the thirst.
The echo of footsteps brought him back to the present.
Darius emerged from the shadows, his crimson eyes glinting with an air of mischief. The other vampire's youthful appearance belied his age, but his sharp features and dry wit always gave away just how long he had walked the earth.
"They're moving closer," Darius said, his tone light despite the grim news. "The hunters have increased patrols in the southern sector. And I have it on good authority that they're actively searching for someone."
Orion's gaze didn't falter, his voice barely a whisper. "Blade."
Darius chuckled, though there was little humor in his voice. "The boy is reckless, but it's not just him they're after. They've noticed our growing presence. The balance is tipping, Orion."
"They'll act soon."
"They're already acting," Darius corrected, stepping closer. "And Blade isn't helping. He's gotten into a skirmish with one of the hunters—a young one, from what I've heard. If this keeps up, we'll have a full-blown war on our hands."
Orion's jaw clenched. Blade was young by their standards, impulsive, and prone to unnecessary violence. The vampire council had already grown weary of his antics, and Orion feared that it wouldn't be long before Blade's actions threatened their entire community.
But something else was troubling him—a nagging instinct he couldn't shake. It wasn't just Blade's recklessness. There was something more.
Suddenly, the scent of fresh blood hit Orion's senses. It was faint, but unmistakable.
"Blood," he whispered, his eyes narrowing.

Before Darius could respond, Orion vanished, leaving his companion behind in the cold night air.

Deep in the alleys of the southern district, Noah lay slumped against a wall, his breath shallow and ragged. He could feel the blood seeping from his side, hot and sticky, but his mind refused to register the pain.

For as long as he could remember, Noah had been a hunter. Raised by Falco, trained to despise the creatures that lurked in the shadows, he had dedicated his life to one singular purpose: extermination of vampires.
But none of his training had prepared him for this.

He had made a mistake—a simple miscalculation. He had underestimated his target. Blade had been quicker than anticipated, and Noah had barely escaped with his life.

Now, as he lay dying in the filthy alley, his thoughts wandered to Falco, to Wilhelm, to the others who would no doubt consider his failure a disgrace.
He was so lost in these thoughts that he didn't notice Orion's arrival until the vampire was crouched beside him.
"You're dying," Orion said, his voice even, unfeeling.
Noah's eyelids fluttered open, his vision blurry but sharpening just enough to recognize his enemy. A vampire. Of course. They were always lurking, waiting to finish what they started.
Noah's lips twitched into a wry smile, despite the burning pain in his side. "You going to gloat... before you kill me?"
Orion tilted his head slightly, intrigued by the hunter's defiance. Most humans, when faced with death, would plead or beg. But not this one.
"I'm not here to kill you," Orion said quietly.
Noah's breathing became more labored, but his eyes burned with the same fire that had always driven him. "Then what do you want?"
Orion didn't have an answer. He should have left. He should have walked away, let the hunter die. But something in Noah's eyes stirred a memory within him, something long buried. He couldn't walk away—not this time.
Without another word, Orion pressed his hand against the wound. His touch was cold, almost soothing against Noah's feverish skin.