A/N: I' saw Priest today and I had to write something because there was almost nothing online!
Word Count: 1,312
Warnings: Abusive, dark debauchery of the slash nature.
Summary: Black Hat has Priest at his whims in Mira Sola when he threatens the vampire hunter with the safety of Lucy. Black Hat x Priest. Explicit slash content, non-con, one-shot.
Black Hat trails a rough hand down those smooth plains of muscle, curving his fingers over warm skin. The strongest vampire hunter, shivering under him – it's almost too good to be true, he thinks, satisfaction thrumming in his ears. He's like a hunter petting his latest catch, a lion, another hunter. Priest is all sinewy muscle and quivering belly and Black Hat just loves it, because he's none of those things. He's better.
Priest groans because his hands are bound tightly behind him and everything is so blurry and out of focus, and he can feel the hole in his shoulder burn dully. Black Hat only laughs – amused – when Priest looks into his eyes and anger rears up, wrath searing in his gaze, "Where is Lucy?" His voice is hoarse and low, just enough for Black Hat to hear.
"Safe," he replies, lips curling over sharp, white teeth, "for now."
Then Priest is lunging at him, shrieking wildly and struggling like a wounded animal in his bonds, "Where? Where is Lucy?"
"I will return her if you join me, Priest," he says silkily, pressing the man harder against the stone altar, "We can save this world together, with God as our witness."
Priest doesn't reply, save for the cold stare – not even when Black Hat presses a crimson vial to his lips and asks him to drink. He can only look into those golden eyes and pray for a lost brother. Black Hat has anticipated resistance, he knows what to do. Tipping the vial of the Queen's blood into his mouth, he lets the sweet-tasting liquid sit heavy on his tongue and delights at the one instant moment of confusion on Priest's face. Then he roughly grabs his ex-brother, fingers pinching his nose close.
At first, Priest looks surprised – he's not daft, he knows what's going on – but he won't open his mouth, eyes smoldering with rebellion, jaw dead set. Black Hat lowers his face and lets his lips run lightly over Priest's cheek, and he can see the man falter slightly, whether it be because of the lack of air or otherwise.
Then Priest gasps, back arching as he greedily sucks in air, because his lungs are aching and burning and his vision is starting to swarm and he doesn't know if he can fight Black Hat off unconscious. Black Hat seizes the opportunity, sealing his lips against the other, feeling almost giddy as a desperate shriek sounds off below him and he moves his mouth against the unwilling Priest in feigned passion. His eyes are dilated, glowing golden in the sparse moonlight and they convey only one thing: swallow, Priest, swallow – because if you don't, you'll die.
And another set of eyes convey only one thing: no, no, no.
Black Hat snakes a hand up to quickly keep Priest's jaw closed as he withdraws his mouth, wiping away the thin strand of saliva and blood that connects them. He waits there, watching as Priest struggles with a mouthful of life-giving blood. But finally, he slackens his grip.
A wet smack. Then Black Hat really has to watch his temper as he rears back, wiping the spit out of his eye, "Know your place, filthy Priest."
"My place is with God," he replies. Priest is pressed flushed against him and the altar and his shirt torn open and he's panting, mouth open with saliva and blood trailing from his lips to pool beneath him. Black Hat hisses, pupils dilating in anger – and perhaps something else. He dips his fingers into the rest of the liquid in the vial and tosses it over his shoulder where it lands with a sharp sound, which echoes though Mira Sola. He runs those blood-soaked fingers over Priest's lips, coating them in deep crimson red.
Black Hat feels him stiffen when he presses those fingers against the curve of his mouth, forcing entry, "Open, or I can't promise I won't do anything to Lucy…" Slowly, he feels the jaw go slack and he's able to run his fingers against Priest's teeth and tongue and it's so hot, like a human, like something he once knew. The man gazes at him through half-lidded eyes, following his movements sluggishly. He presses the fingers farther into his mouth and Priest gags slightly, teeth closing. "Don't bite, or God so help you," he growls. Black Hat withdraws the slick fingers, letting them linger a bit before he tears at the front of Priest's scratchy linen trousers, that's when the man struggles again.
"Brother, no," he cries. Then those fingers are in him, violently thrusting and stretching and everything hurts and for one brief second, he feels like God has abandoned him. Black Hat smirks at the growing hardness between his thighs, pushing his legs apart to allow him better access. Priest groans, he can't tell if it's a groan of pain or of something else entirely. "H – hah, hearken unto the voice of my cry, my King, and my God," he begins, shaking. Black Hat looks up and removes his fingers, but says nothing. Priest is dizzy now, "for unto thee will I pray. My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O Lord –"
Black Hat laughs out loud at his perfect timing, "Yes," he hisses around the burning tightness, "I am your Lord." Priest chokes up, straining to keep his voice down. It hurts. The vampire human thrusts a few time into the quivering body beneath him, but it's not enough; he wants Priest to feel what he felt all those years ago. Hooking his arms under muscled thighs, he quickly flips their positions, letting Priest settle neatly onto his lap.
A loud groan pierces the hive walls. The pressure is off of his bound hands, but the change forces Black Hat deeper into him. He's involuntarily shaking now, fear and pain and guilt cage his heart in place of ribs. For a minute, both of them are dead silent. Priest, scrambling to soothe his (in)sanity, and Black Hat, who only runs a deceptively gentle hand down his back.
"Well?" Black Hat asks huskily, "Show the Lord your devotion." And the meaning is not lost on Priest.
"No," he replies firmly, though he jerks when hands grab hold of his hips and lifts him up, a slick obscene sound as Black Hat scrapes against him, "Wait," he stops. The bruising grasp is relinquished and he pushes himself slowly down, flinching at the sensation. Slow and haltingly, Priest lowers and raises himself on weak legs – he doesn't know where to look, up and ahead is the face of his brother, down and below is the unraveling of his sanity.
Black Hat, finally tired of the half-hearted, shallow thrusts, slams those smooth, milky hips down, grinding against the other man. A smothered sob drowns out his grunt of pleasure, and he takes the initiative and pries him even further apart, pounding into the spasming Priest with uncontrollable appetite. The vampire hunter slumps on him, head resting – lolling – prettily on his shoulder. A pale, slender column of neck, all smooth white skin, catches his eyes. He can't help but run an elongated fang down it and quickly licks up the trail of blood that wells up.
He can hear Priest mumbling again, "…thou art not a God that hath pleasure in wickedness…" He pounds harder into the body, twisting himself inside with a final thrust.
Black Hat removes himself from Priest. "Neither shall evil dwell with thee; Psalms: five, two, four."
He none too gently lays his Priest back onto the stone altar. He is satisfied and sated now, because he knows he's won when he softly traces his ex-brother's desire, a hitched breath the only indication he's still alive, because he's lying there so still and so pretty, like a Greek statue and not a human man that was just violated. "I'm sorry, Brother," Priest murmurs.
Black Hat chuckles amusedly, stepping away and into the shadow of day. "Amen."
