It's not my fault that he's fourteen. It's my fault that I love him. That I desire him. That each night I dream of sweat on skin. That each morning I wake up needing his body. Needing Yukine. Needing nobody else in life. Wanting nobody else., desiring hands dancing over virginal flesh and lips tracing over frail muscless. Lips parted and wrapped around soft pink nipples. Fingers running all over as his hands traced soft skin. Skin correct in a sheen of sweat as virginal lips part, begging and pleading for more and more. The desires running through in their own bodies.
Yato couldn't help but be clouded with these thoughts each time he was alone. He kept telling himself that Yukine was too young. That Yukine wasn't ready for anything, despite what the others thoughts were.
Thoughts of skin on skin as two halves made a whole. Thoughts of pushed together bodies, fingers clawing deep into unburied flesh. Lips leaving marks all over virginal flesh as teeth ripped into every inch of Yukine's body. Fingers probing and pinching every inch of that sensual teen.
One thing was certain by these thoughts, Yukine craved to be owned by his master. The shinki desired being thrown around and pinned to the floor. He desired a rough living. He desired a lot of pleasure and a lot of pain.
He wanted it
He needed it
He desired it as nothing let go.
Wanting was never enough to be given for all Yato was put through.
Yato made up his mind at this point. Despite any dangers, he'd confront his shinki. Yato would let Yukine know, he saw every thought. That every moment Yukine's own hands traced over every soft and hard inch of flesh, Yato could feel everything. He could feel the burning desire and rough frustrations. He could feel each climax and hear the pleading whilst broken down.
Most of all, Yato loved hearing these things, he loved the idea of Yukine needing him nonstop. It was something that Yato could get addicted to.
The desire.
The need
The thirst of the fragile teen being broken nonstop with an unyielding passionate desire to be ripped apart. To be controlled.
The shinki truly knew how to make the other scream inside. He knew how to make the other filled to the brim with an urge to ravage him. To destroy the other.
Fingers wrapped around flesh as Yato heard the others screams in his mind.
It was happening again.
Yukine needed it
Yukine desired it.
Yukine craved the control of Yato.
The shinki couldn't calm down at times, which turned Yato into a mess.
A mess of pain and intensity. A mess of lust to love. How could the other cause such need in his life? Was this the thing that Yato was searching for? Was he actually searching for someone who desired him in every way.
Those thoughts came and went the second Yato heard loud moans. Thoughts of Yukine being forced to the ground, as he was shoved into without any aid. The sound of Yukine's screams filled his mind as a play by play echoed in his mind's eye. In his ears he could hear begging. Yato couldn't tell if this was Yukine's fantasy or reality. Begging and pleading for more control. For more pain. The shinki desired being owned. He desired the God of calamity showing his depraved nature. The nature of pure greed and unlawful abandonment. The nature of lust and longing. The avarice of pleasure would show in each thought.
Yato wanted Yukine. He needed him. He desired to break the other so beautifully. He desired a level of greed. A level of want. A level of need. Yato wanted Yukine more than Yatoites, more than power, more than a shrine, Yato needed Yukine, as if his life depended on it.