Huge thanks to NAMINEM (AO3) for translating my fanfic "Cicatriz". I feel really honored ;;
Go read NAMINEM's fics as well! Her stories are amazing.
Sebastian sunk his teeth into the grim reaper's smooth skin, successfully causing the other to make a guttural sound, which he could then interpret as a moan of pleasure, a groan of pain, or whatever he desired.
"Tell me, Mr. Spears," he asked. "How did you get this mark on your skin?"
His words were as burlesque as his smile. Of course, there was no need for him to call William "Mr. Spears" in privacy, but it was all a part of that little game the butler liked to play; the game in which he had manners and, even, a human body.
Yet, after their numerous encounters thus far, William thought it was rather repugnant to be referred to as such. What an idiot; as if the demon really considered him a gentleman.
"You mean the one you just left me, vermin?" William replied.
"Hm. Not quite. Rather, I am referring to this."
Sebastian brought his gloved hand to William's neck, caressing an obvious scar that usually could not be seen unless Spears removed his suit—or at least his jacket and tie (which Sebastian had already seen to). In Sebastian's current position, the dress shirt could easily be removed; it would only be necessary to undo the first few buttons for him to have total access to that sensitive area.
Green eyes widened in surprise as William realized what the demon was talking about. It was that mark. The one he'd never wished to show to anyone; the one that brought him shame and disgust to remember.
The mark that made him into what he was today.
William was unable to respond, but it seemed the demon did not plan to relent. Obviously, Sebastian just wanted to irritate him. To humiliate him and highlight his weak nature, which he tried to hide under all the violence he inflicted upon his subordinates.
"Was it a deep cut?" Sebastian continued. "What could lead a mortal to do such a thing? I wonder…"
It was incredibly annoying the way the demon pretended to be engrossed in his thoughts even though, evidently, that was the furthest thing from reality. His lips were still traversing that part of skin, leaving undesired kisses on William's throat and the nape of his neck. This discomforted the demigod, who only wished to escape from the unyielding grip he was subjected to.
William did not want to answer such an "insignificant" question. He did not need to talk about this. The reason Michaelis had come here was to release his frustrations, and it was for that purpose only that William accepted his company. That simple reason alone was why he did not resist being taken by such a low and vile being—for he too needed to get the stress of work out of his system.
"Get off," William ordered.
His voice, as cold as it was authoritarian, only made Sebastian chuckle. A reaper, a sad suicide, would give orders to a being as powerful as himself? Although Sebastian wanted to continue to tease William, he decided to obey for now.
Sebastian had felt the heat emanating from the other's body, and it hadn't been due to a positive reaction to his "caresses," but because of the fury that ran through his veins, making his blood boil. It did not bother Sebastian to be struck occasionally, if it came to that; after all, he thought their violent sex was enjoyable. But, to his bad luck, he was in a realm where he was nothing more than an intruder. What if the death god in front of him decided to betray him—to report his presence to his superiors? At the moment, he was not in the mood to be attacked by a reaper... much less by several of them. Really, all he wanted was to be able to get rid of the clothes the other still wore and mark that body which, at one time, had been alive.
Spears headed to the lavatory. An invitation to follow, perhaps? Probably not. It would be a real surprise if that were so because, to Sebastian's misfortune, leading William to commit immoral acts was even more difficult than properly caring for the brat with which he still held a contract.
William had entered the bathroom merely to look at himself in the mirror—to see if that scar had really been exposed. But Sebastian wasn't sure why he bothered to do this. Why would William think that he would fabricate his knowledge of the mark?
He had seen it before. He'd noticed it the first time his hands had had the pleasure of running over the grim reaper's skin. He just hadn't said anything about it until now.
Because Sebastian's attention was so focused on the person behind the lavatory door, he could clearly hear when the reaper clicked his tongue before returning with a more aggressive countenance than before. It seemed that his previous questions had been too bold for the other. But, to be honest, he hadn't made that audacious of a remark, compared to what he could have said.
The reaper, anyway, was furious. How dare that filthy vermin get into such personal and—in a certain way—delicate subjects? It was even more unpleasant than their visits themselves.
William tore off his own shirt and tossed it haphazardly aside. It fell to the dusty floor of the apartment that he only ever used for his barest of needs: showering, sleeping, and this.
Ah, the best part was close—the demon knew. Spears's gaze foretold it. His blood still burned, but it seemed he had found the right way to let out his anger. A pleasant session of rough sex controlled by him, his stoic demigod.
.
The desire to aggravate the reaper was still there even after all was done.
Sebastian would have liked to throw out more inopportune comments during sex, but the other hadn't allowed it. Whenever his mouth had begun to utter hurtful or aggressive words, the reaper would catch his lips with his own and make their rhythm rougher and more careless. Perhaps Sebastian was provoking him for that very reason: so that he would not hold back; so that he would be as hard on him as he chose to be. It would not matter if William stole his breath or mutilated his flesh, Sebastian would enjoy himself. The demigod was an expert in knowing his most pleasurable spots at times like these, and that was why Sebastian had—on many occasions—given William control with a smile on his face.
Ahh, truly, it was never a waste to see this god of death.
"William."
Sebastian's intention was to sound seductive, and he would have sounded that way to any person—any being... except to the one before him. William thought Sebastian was as disgusting as the smell of decaying flesh. He hated him more than anything. Even more than his eternal prison of breath and blood, which he had earned by despising the first life he had been given.
William wished he had been a human with a purpose in life. A soul that had been considered precious. If Sebastian had appeared to him and had spoken his name at that moment— before the sharp knife had pierced his skin, torn his flesh, and shed his blood—then he would have rejoiced. He would have given himself to the demon without a second's hesitation. But that hadn't happened, and William was disgusted by it. He considered demons to be pestilential beings that fed on human misery, but when he had been miserable, where had they been?
No one had been with him, not even one of the most despicable beings in the universe. Well, if that was how it would be, then William would make the existence of these creatures worse than his own. Those infernal monsters would be forced to know the worst parts of themselves, and they would swallow it up, just as they could have swallowed his soul.
William threw Sebastian a look as sharp as his own death scythe and waited for the demon to shut his mouth and leave. If he felt his presence for a minute longer, he would likely throw up the disgusting, reheated dinner he'd forced himself to eat.
"Next time, I'll be the one to slice open your neck, and your life will go with me."
A proposal, maybe. Or a threat. Whatever it was, William didn't really care. He no longer needed such a thing; now, occasional satisfaction was more than sufficient. He did not want anything else that came from this vermin.
"And your manners? It is none of my business if you are roaming away from your master's ostentatious mansion, but if you are in my house, mind your manners or shut your mouth, butler."
"As expected of you, Mr. Spears. You never let your guard down, do you?"
He did not need to turn around to know that the one with scarlet eyes was grinning from ear to ear.
As long as the demon disappeared immediately, William could be indifferent to his cheek.
William lay back on the bed that had, just minutes ago, witnessed the worst act of betrayal a death god could commit against his own kind. But if he broke the laws of mortals, why not those of the immortals? What else could he lose?
After all—even if he wished otherwise—his mornings would be consumed by excessive labor for mediocre pay, while his nights were reserved for the lust and violence that the demon offered him freely.
The pleasure of being a god who sins by sleeping with a devil.