"That should do it," Stein muttered, staring at the liquid-filled syringe.
"I still don't want to do this," Shinigami complained from the examining table. He had all the appearance of a normal human- black, fully striped hair and bright golden eyes draped in his black cloak- but nobody believed it. His legs kicked off the edge of the table as he shifted uncomfortably. "What if something happens?"
"It'll only numb the toxin neutralizers in your blood stream, and only for a short time."
"So...so what if someone were to poison me?"
Stein turned to him. "You want me to test it on Kid instead?"
"Absolutely not!" His son was where Shinigami drew the line. No one touched his son.
Stein complied with that request (unlike his organs, he was rather fond of his skin and its regenerating powers) and walked over to the metal table. He gently dabbed rubbing alcohol on the crook of god's exposed elbow before aiming the needle. Next to him, Shinigami gulped and looked away, shutting his eyes.
"There. It's done."
Shinigami blinked open his eyes and tried making a fist. Well, he could still move his arm, that was a good sign.
Suddenly, he gasped. Stein glanced at him nervously as the Reaper's eyes widened. The liquid in Stein's syringe was now running through his blood, attacking the cells in his body. His arm seared and burned, and his blood felt like molten lava underneath his skin. He didn't even realize he was screaming until he felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
Starting, Shinigami whirled around to see his scythe, Spirit, standing there with his hand on the other's shoulder. The redhead looked at him worriedly.
"Hey, you okay?"
"Y...yeah, I'm fine now," Shinigami choked out. The pain was subsiding for some reason. It was as if Spirit's touch had cured him.
Spirit shot a smug smirk at the Reaper, holding up his car keys. "Now it's time for your very first drink."
/
"Nice," Spirit huffed. His normally goofy, wacky but powerful meister was now stumbling all over the club, giggling and running into tables and walls. After only ten drinks. What a lightweight.
"Hee hee hee! Spri~t-uuuuun!" Shinigami yelled, slurring his weapon's name. After an extensive quiz, Spirit was the only name the god could remember- and recognize. Shinigami stumbled over to his weapon and ran into his chest, glancing up at the redhead with a slack grin.
Spirit looked disapprovingly back down at his meister. Shinigami ignored him and turned, his back resting on the weapon's chest. He glanced around the bar and spotted a couple making out, their tongues intertwined with saliva and alcohol. Shinigami grinned sloppily, nudging his scythe. He pointed to the couple once he had Spirit's attention.
"'ey, Spri-t-un~" he mumbled, tripping over his words. "C'n we do 'at?"
Spirit scowled at his meister. "No, we're both guys, remember? Also, you're my boss. It would inappropriate."
Shinigami suddenly began to chuckle deeply, his shoulders heaving. "'ike hell I care about 'at," he slurred. He swirled around and grasped Spirit's tie. Before the scythe could object, Shinigami pulled him down(in human form, Shinigami was slightly shorter than his scythe), forcing their lips to meet. As Spirit opened his mouth in shock, the Reaper took advantage of the opening and forced his tongue in, exploring Spirit's mouth ravenously.
As soon as they broke apart, Spirit stumbled backward, leaning against a nearby wall for support. Music blared in his ears but his mind was blank. All he could think about was the smug, crooked grin of his drunken meister, giggling in front of him. The lights of the club lit him up in purple, showing his uneven golden eyes clouded with lust. He cocked his head, much like what he did in Reaper form.
"Ne, you like?" he asked, forcing his words to be somewhat coherent.
Spirit stared at him.
/
Spirit shoved the giggling Reaper on the couch in a back room of the club and moved to close and lock the door. Shinigami's giggles only persisted as he struggled to sit up.
"Ne, Spirit-kun~!" he sang. "I can't believe...you're doing this with me!" He giggled some more, falling back on the couch. His giggles slowly died down, but his smile still remained. "I'm so happy..." he breathed gleefully, his eyelids lowering in content.
Spirit only replied by walking over to the Reaper and straddling him, placing his hands to Shinigami's sides for support. He leaned down and kissed Shinigami's jawline softly as he began to grind their hips together. He slowly moved down to the other's neck, nipping and biting softly as he moved.
Shinigami giggled as he felt Spirit's warm breath on his neck. This was certainly interesting. When had Spirit become the dominant one? He decided to let his scythe have all the fun...this time. He only barely bit back a moan as Spirit ground a little harder.
"Care-...ful with me, Spirit-kun," Shinigami teased, struggling to form words. "I'm...old and f-fragile. My hips...aren't what they-...used to be."
Spirit replied by grabbing a fistful of Shinigami's cloak and slipping it off, throwing it carelessly on the floor. This left Shinigami in nothing but his black jeans and black skull-themed boots. The Reaper blushed in embarrassment as Spirit stared at his chest.
The scythe grinned at him, moving closer to his face. "Don't be shy. You're really sexy," he whispered huskily in his ear, making Shinigami shiver. "Who knew you were hiding that under your bouncy pointy cloak?
"Now, let's see what's under here." With this, Spirit reached down and dug his fingers underneath the waistband of Shinigami's pants. The Reaper's eyes widened as he blushed profusely. Spirit ignored him, unbuttoning his pants and sliding the fabric of both his pants and boxers down.
Now Shinigami was blushing madly, his face bright red. Sp-Spirit...he couldn't believe his Death Scythe was seeing him in such a way! Still, they had come this far. No turning back now. Besides, how many times has this scene taken place in his head? Though, admittedly, it was in the Death Room and not in a back room of a shady club.
All thoughts disappeared from his head as he suddenly saw stars and felt a rush of painful pleasure. Confused, he looked down to see that Spirit had taken to licking up and down the shaft of his hardened length. His mind had meanwhile resumed its internal battle in the middle of the intense pleasure. Somewhere along the way, his fingers entwined in shocking red hair. They clenched into a fist as Spirit took him in his mouth, sucking on his cock as he pumped the rest of it with his hand. It took all of his willpower not to take control.
"Sp-Spirit...faster..." he moaned instead. Smirking, the death scythe complied, stroking his meister with one hand and sucking and licking the tip of his cock with his tongue.
Shinigami slowly cracked open his eyes, glancing down at his scythe with a flushed face. He panted heavily, sweat dripping down his cheeks. He shut his eyes again as he felt warmth pooling into his stomach.
"Sp-Spirit! I'm gonna..." He couldn't even finish his sentence. Panting wildly, he fisted Spirit's hair again and moaned. Spirit smirked as well as he could and gave one long last suck, sending the Reaper over the edge.
Crying out, Shinigami lost his self-control and pushed Spirit's head forward as he came. Luckily, other than gagging a bit, Spirit didn't seem to be too affected. The scythe pulled away, sticky white liquid dripping from his lips. Smiling, he swallowed the load in his mouth and licked the rest off his face.
Spirit rose again, kissing the panting Reaper gently as he softly brushed the black locks that had stuck to his wet, sweat-covered face away. "When's the last time you had that?" he teased. "A thousand years ago?"
Shinigami's mind was blank as he tasted himself on his lips. When was the last time he had taken someone to bed? It was certainly before founding Shibusen, so...over eight hundred years ago, he'd guessed. Maybe more. Or maybe never. What was he talking about again?
"I really enjoyed that, you know," Spirit whispered, pressing his hips into the Reaper's. "Your moans really turned me on."
Indeed, Shinigami could feel the hard appendage in Spirit's pants rub at his thighs and cock. Breathing heavily as he felt himself harden, Shinigami moved with difficulty and slowly started to remove Spirit's clothes- first, tie, then jacket and shirt. Meanwhile, Spirit had taken to rubbing against Shinigami's cock, making them both hard. Shinigami's heart raced as he hesitantly unbuttoned his scythe's dress pants, sliding them off. They were now both completely naked, both of their well-toned bodies covered in sweat.
The death scythe smirked and sucked on his fingers sloppily, coating them with saliva. Shinigami stared at the show, his jaw slack and his face turning red. Blinking and looking away stubbornly, he wiped away a few drops of blood from his nose.
Suddenly, he felt pressure in his lower areas. He looked down to see Spirit with his finger lightly touching his entrance. The scythe gave him a smug grin before plunging a finger in, causing the Reaper to cry out. Spirit shushed him softly, tucking a strand of black hair behind his ear comfortingly as he inserted another finger, making a scissoring motion. Shinigami clutched Spirit's shoulder blades, digging his nails in the flesh there as his hands shook.
"Shh, just relax," Spirit murmured softly, using his free hand to stroke Shinigami's hair soothingly. The god only groaned in reply as his head fell on Spirit's shoulder, seeking support.
Eventually, Spirit pulled out his fingers, causing the Reaper to finally relax. It didn't last long, though; he knew what was coming next.
Spirit poised himself at the Reaper's entrance as Shinigami hesitantly spread his legs. The scythe's look of perpetual lust slowly vanished as he stared at his blushing meister worriedly.
"Are you sure about this?" Spirit whispered gently. Shinigami shot him a fiery look before softening. The god sat up, with some difficulty, and kissed his scythe lightly on the lips before nodding and relaxing back into his original position.
With that, Spirit pressed himself against Shinigami's entrance and slowly pushed himself in. Shinigami cried out softly, wrapping his arms around Spirit and pressing their bodies together. Once Spirit sunk himself in to the hilt, he stopped, waiting for Shinigami to get used to the feeling.
"D-damn it, Spirit, move!" the Reaper demanded.
"Yes, sir," the death scythe purred. He slid out of Shinigami only to slam in again, causing the other to cry out. He continued this pace, thrusting in and out of his meister. Shinigami moaned and cried out, his hands shaky as they latched onto his scythe's back. In an attempt to soothe Shinigami, Spirit slipped his tongue in the other's mouth and kissed the god passionately as he continued to rock into him. As he did so, his hand moved down to stroke the Reaper's length in time to his thrusts.
They kept up this rhythm until Shinigami could feel the warmth pooling into his stomach again. He clutched tighter onto Spirit.
"Sp-Spirit," he breathed. His deep, serious voice sent shivers down Spirit's spine. "I'm...I'm going to..."
"It's fine," Spirit told him. "Cum for me."
With that, he gave one last thrust, sending the both of them over the edge. Spirit bit his tongue as Shinigami dug his head into Spirit's neck and moaned. Cum shot onto his hand and stomach, while he buried himself into his meister as he felt cum leak onto his cock.
The both of them, panting heavily, smelling of sex and covered in sweat and cum, collapsed onto the couch. Spirit pulled out of his meister and fell to the other's side, pulling Shinigami's head onto his chest. He calmed the shaking, wide-eyed reaper by softly stroking his face with one hand and intertwining their fingers with another.
"So, how long have you been sober?" Spirit asked, only partly out of curiosity.
"Well, that depends," Shinigami answered, his voice still low and rough. "When did you figure it out?"
/
Come out of the closet, you ShinigamixSpirit shippers.
DON'T WORRY, I'LL PROTECT YOU FROM THE WRATH OF STEINXSPIRIT SHIPPERS (as long as you write pervy fanfics for me).