Nocturne looked off to the side.
Something is following.
His empty eyes analysed the surroundings and waited for any movements.
Someone is here.
There was no visible objects around him, and yet something still kept creeping.
Someone's...
A heavy presence made the spectral being tuck his blades in tight while pointing outwards and spun around. In a feeble attempt to kill the thing that was obviously yet somehow invisibly sneaking up on him, the blades dashed through just the end of blue cloth.
"Malza-?!"
The surprise was cut short as the floating void man took advantage of his skills to get an impressive jump on the one who does the scaring. Two gloved hands gripped Nocturne's blades carefully and pushed him to the ground.
It was difficult, considering he was ethereal. However, Malzahar was not normal. His powers spread beyond normal dimensions and restrictions. A purple glow buzzed around both of their eyes. Visions of... endless nothingness filled Nocturne's mind. No fear, no sadness, no anger. Nothing. If even for a split moment, all he needed was distraction. Even the humour of it failing immediately.
"What the hell?!"
With both blades held to the ground, he instinctively struggled. Something however, was wrong. A sensation sparked across his form. It wasn't from his body, but from his weapons... Malzahar's tongue ran across the sharp edge of his left one. It was.. not very strong feeling, but more of a tingle. A strange unrecognised tingle.
"What are you doing?!"
Again he roared in confusion and anger as the confusion of the situation escalated rapidly. What was this insane man doing?! What was he thinking he'd achieve?! And what was the feeling he was getting?
Instead, the tanned man stayed silent, tightening his grip on the only completely solid part ofNocturne's body. His tongue grazed the sharp part sensually, but hard enough to cut himself on it. A small amount of crimson liquid dripped across the pristine white, smoothly trailing across the metallic sheen before sliding off. Again, he lowered back to the base once more, pressing his mouth muscle against it and taking a slightly similar line up to the sharp tip.
"Uragh!" Nocturne grunted in an abnormally confused manner. "Get-... Get off me!"
It was as if the words fell on deaf ears for a while, except the man heard every one. After a silent moment, Malzahar spoke up.
"Is it a pleasant feeling?"
He knew full well that above everything, this creature could only feel through his blades and nothing else. Being infused with something very different himself, there was knowledge he'd learned prior.
"I have no idea what pleasant even is to me!"
The grip on each limb loosened, fingers instead starting to run across the surface of the right weapon. It was what would normally be a caress, but he truly had no idea how exactly the other male would feel. How to make him feel was one thing, but different feelings was...
"My tongue is a bit like the warmth of the innards of someone you've pierced through the stomach, no? But instead of flimsily spilling out once, mine is more constant and purposeful. My hand is not an open wound, but it wishes for the same. More like stroking it. Trying to give you sensations you've never felt before."
Malzahar's existence was nothing short of an impossible to understand riddle, or an unsolved puzzle where some joined pieces don't fit together.
"You're unbelievable... Why do you even care about this sort of thing for me? Can't you help me destroy people's minds and fill them with fear instead?"
Gloved fingers trailed up the razor-sharp edge of his right blade.
"Because instead of indirect feelings, I hunger for more explicit and unfound emotion. You'd scare, kill, and be determined, but I what is most perplexing leaves me lusting for more. Nocturne..."
His voice drew nearer as his breath warmed through the chilling form. The tone went to more serious notes, to an intense, heavy breathing, lustful tone.
"It's the stranger things that I can't stop thinking about. The unknown or dangerous. I love it, I want it, and... well..."
The prophet's hand released from Nocturne, reaching to himself. His lips pressed against the cold material he'd been licking, planting a wet and drawn out kiss. Taking firm grip of the hem of his pants, Malzahar lowered it down. Out sprung his fully erect manhood, pulsing with blood and lusting. His entire body lusted. Pulling open his vest, he tossed it to the ground along with his loose scarf and hood. Crawling up, he gazed longingly at Nocturne before pressing his hot erection against the chilling blade he'd been licking so hungrily.
They'd both fallen silent. Nocturne let out a long and quiet noise that sounded only like a whine. He was so intensely confused, and after what Malzahar was doing, the sensations were baffling. But yet, he didn't push him off, cut off his limbs or dick, nor tell him to stop. As such, the Void prophet continued.
Slowly he started thrusting his erection along the flat side of the wetted blade. The underside ran up and down, skin pulling along with it each direction. His balls dragged along too but only when he pushed down onto it.
"H-How's that feel?"
A heavy breath accompanied the question as Malzahar groaned suddenly. Nocturne was quiet, watching and observing the man's actions as he pleased himself on his weapon. Although, it wasn't all one sided. Nocturne was able to feel what Malzahar spoke of. It was definitely feelings sparking through him as the warm member pulsed against him.
"It's not a bad feeling, at least..."
He coyly spoke up. The difference between the one being touched and the one that had previously been stroked by the hand was stark. However, he still had no idea what to think. His blade unconsciously moved up to Malzahar's side. He hadn't noticed while watching the man's loins rub against him. Nocturne noticed when Malzahar was so easily able to grab it and bring it to his lips. He watched curiously as the prophet's half lidded lust filled eyes gazed back at him. A small amount of clear and sticky liquid beaded from the head of Malzahar's manhood. His tongue lashed out and began running the healing wound next to the blade's edge. Faster his hips pumped as more saliva dripped down the weapon at his lips. Moans poured from his throat as his bucking slowed but became more intense and forceful. White viscous spunk spurted forth from the slit, Malzahar's hot breath heaving onto the metal like part of Nocturne at his mouth. Again and again the prophet thrust forward as each strand of sexual fluid draped over the blade he rubbed against.
He slowed down as he rode out each intense spasm of pleasure that flushed through his body. Pressing his blazing red cheek against the blade, he slowly panted and calmed his breath. Placing a free hand onto his member, he pressed out the last drops of his spunk at the base of his freshly painted sperm. Letting go of the blade at his face, he slumped to his side and chuckled darkly.
"Hehehehe... Wasn't that bad, was it?"
A devilish smirk lit up his face as he winked slyly at Nocturne.
"Oh, and the last thing."
Leaning over, he once more ran his tongue along the male's blade. This time, instead of purely for fun, he began cleaning up his mess. It only took a few licks to get it all up and swallow before pulling his pants back up and leaning on his elbow.
"I'm just glad you haven't killed me yet. Heheheh... And don't think I'm taking any chances."
Grabbing his clothing, he promptly slid on his vest before running a hand over the bits of moisture he'd left from saliva and spunk. Leaning over, he took the underside of the blade with one hand and kissed it.
"We'll be seeing each other soon i'm certain."
Standing up, he continued placing his clothing back on before starting to walk away.
"Eternal Nightmare~"