Author: Jordanna Morgan (email@example.com)
Archive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Rating/Warnings: PG for implied adult situations.
Characters: Mikaela, Krul, Ferid.
Summary: Everyone knew he was the Queen’s pet. He was fairly sure no one liked it much.
Disclaimer: They belong to Takaya Kagami. I’m just playing with them.
Notes: A small attempt at a Mika/Krul vignette with a little dark humor. It was written as a Fandom Giftbox treat for EvilMuffins, and also fills the prompt of “celebratory kiss” at Trope Bingo.
“Welcome back, Mika,” Krul Tepes purred, as Mikaela Hyakuya descended the cargo ramp of the transport plane.
The other disembarking vampires in the squad paused in their steps to give Mika twitchy glances. Ferid Bathory’s mouth twisted sideways, as if the last thing he had bitten into was a lemon instead of a human throat.
Mika was the only vampire of common rank who Queen Krul ever came to greet personally upon his return from a mission. She could scarcely even be bothered to put in an appearance when visiting nobles arrived; but when it was Mika stepping off the plane, she was always there, red lips pursed playfully and equally red eyes twinkling. Her tone would be gushing as she praised the reports she had received of his work.
Everyone knew the brooding blue-eyed vampire was the Queen’s pet. He was fairly sure no one liked it much. He wished she would be more discreet about all of her attentions to him, and not only about… what else he was to her.
“Queen Krul,” he returned formally, his cheeks flushing a little.
As she stretched out her slender hands to him, he rather awkwardly took them in his own. He tried not to look at her throat. After three days of slaying Four Horsemen of John in a distant city, he was thirsty for a fresh meal—but that would have to wait until they were alone.
There would be other things to look forward to then, as well.
“I’m delighted by the reports of your field work, Mika. Another mission splendidly accomplished. You’ve made me proud.”
By this point, the other returning vampires had filed past them. Krul glanced over her shoulder; and then, before Mika could utter a sound, she seized the clasp of his cloak and pulled him down to her. His breath caught as her mouth seized his, kissing him greedily. He felt the suggestive scrape of a fang against his lower lip.
“A reward for a job well done,” she said airily as she withdrew, eyes dancing with dark mischief. “After you report to your barracks commander, come directly to my chambers. I want to give you a personal debriefing as soon as possible.”
Mika swallowed and hastily glanced around. To his chagrin, he saw Ferid—who must have been loitering there in the hangar to jockey for the Queen’s attention himself—looking on with his lip curled like a goat.
It wasn’t that Ferid was surprised. He was probably one of the very few vampires who had figured out the full state of things between Krul and Mika… but he knew it would be decidedly unhealthy for him to misuse that information. At least for now.
Krul knew that he knew. She had undoubtedly kissed Mika in front of him on purpose.
Sweeping a final indulgent glance over her pet, Krul turned and mincingly went on her way. Ferid stepped forward, drifting closer to Mika. The Progenitor’s eyes were fixed upon the Queen’s retreating figure—until he turned to look at Mika, with an expression of baffled disgust.
And yet, something else about that look on his face was…
“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Mika muttered, raising an eyebrow.
Ferid gaped, exposing his fangs. “Absolutely not! The very thought is absurd. I want nothing to do with Krul’s little perversions.”
He tried and failed to make his stomping away look more like a dignified glide. Staring after him, Mika was unable to help the way his lips turned up at the corners, just a little.
Of course, Ferid’s envy was sure to have much more to do with politics than prurience… but still. Mika had something the noble coveted, and could never have. The mere fact of that, he admitted to himself, was a rather good feeling; something almost like a tiny bit of revenge.
Not for the slaughter of his family, certainly. But just maybe for Ferid’s having cut his arm off. Because, temporary or not, that had really hurt.
Smirking to himself, Mika went on to check in with the barracks commander—and to change into a fresh uniform before he reported to Krul. He was now looking forward to his impending debriefing more than ever.
© 2016 Jordanna Morgan