Warnings: Consensual Violence, gore, and temporary character death.
Kou sags limply in Kei's arms, dead weight. His head hangs loosely, a direct consequence from just how deep Kei's IBM managed to cut Kou's throat. The skin is already trying to knit itself back together, black matter concentrating around the wound. Quickly, much too quickly for what Kei wants. They'd only just managed to stumble into the bathroom, before Kei's IBM had dug its claws into Kou's throat, and here Kou is, already trying to come back to life.
"You're the one who said I could do what I wanted," Kei states, thumb smearing blood across Kou's cheek. His fingers slip down from Kou's face, pressing into the gaping mess of Kou's throat. He scissors his fingers, stopping the wound from closing around them. For a moment, he considers testing to see just how long he can keep Kou dead. If he didn't already have an idea of what he wanted to do, he would do more than consider it.
He braces Kou against the bathtub, the tile floor below them already slick with blood. He keeps his fingers buried in Kou's throat, and lifts his other hand to Kou's face. He can feel the steady press of Kou trying to regenerate around his fingers, before he crooks his fingers and recreates the damage all over again.
His IBM shifts into focus, crouched down at their side. Having it so close makes Kei feel small, but knowing that it will never harm him, it's a powerful thought. It reaches out, movements slow. It's giving a show, reaching its clawed hand out to Kou's face. With their connection, it always knows just what Kei wants, and right now it's not tearing through Kou like it usually would. Its movements are precise, claws curling in against Kou's eye.
Kei watches with calm fascination, as his IBM digs its fingers into Kou's eye socket, and drags the mangled gore out with its claws. The mess runs down the side of Kou's face, blood welling in his empty eye socket, before spilling over. He looks wrecked, with Kei's fingers in his throat, and the IBM pressing its fingers in deeper.
Standing up from where he had been kneeling in the now cooled blood on the floor, Kei thumbs the button of his jeans open. His attention is focused on the way his IBM crooks its fingers, dark blood standing out starkly against its pale bandages.
Kei pulls his hand free of Kou's throat, the skin giving way with a watery sound. He doesn't look down to watch the wound seal itself closed now that there's nothing in the way. Black matter particles are accumulating where the IBMs fingers are working their way deep into Kou's brain, but the IBM isn't giving Kou the time to regenerate, before it causes more damage.
Kou twitches after a moment, before his body goes slack again. The IBMs fingers are deep enough that he can't regenerate around them, can't stumble back to the living. There's something about the control, about there being no repercussions (aside from the mess), that set Kei at ease. After everything they've done, Kou has not once woken up and said they needed to stop.
With a hand sticky with blood, Kei pushes down his jeans, steps out of them, and kicks them to the side. There's a split second of indecision, of him wondering if this is really what he wants. He ignores it, because for them, for Ajin, societies rules don't apply. They don't have to abide by standards derived from people who want nothing more than to preserve life. They're Ajin. They're meant to die. They get stronger each time they do.
Kei leans in, pressing his thumb in against his IBMs probing fingers. He reaches back, slides his hand into Kou's hair, and braces his other one the edge of the bathtub. His eyes flick over to his IBM, watching as it disintegrates. As much as Kei likes watching Kou wake up sitting on the IBMs cock, and with its claws piercing through the soft flesh of his belly, today isn't for that.
Gripping onto Kou's hair, he presses his cock in slowly, past the resistance of viscera. He expects Kou to jerk against him, for his hands to come up and claw at him, but his head only lolls back against Kei's grip. There's no choked gasp, no high whine of pain. There's absolutely no reaction.
Kei's hips stutter, and it's his gasp that echos off of the bathroom walls. Kou is so pliable under his hand, and everything just gives way. He's already sitting on the knife's edge, and the slick warmth isn't helping. He pants, lets himself take a moment, but then everything around his cock moves, and he's curling forward. The hand gripping the tub's edge tightens, bracing himself as his legs wobble.
The feel of Kou's body trying to regenerate around his fingers was nothing in comparison to this. The pressure of Kou's brain trying to reform around his cock is so much more. The fingers he has in Kou's hair flex, tilting his head back enough that Kei's cock slides free.
"Fuck," he hisses, right before his hips snap forward and he's once again pushing past the slight resistance of Kou's body trying to reform. Blood continues to drip down the side of Kou's face, and stick to Kei's thighs. It itches, where it's starting to dry, and the smell is thick and cloying, but it doesn't stop him from canting his hips.
He's not going to last long, not with how worked up he is.
Another thrust and it's almost too much. He adjusts his grip in Kou's hair, and slides in again. Each push in has him winding tighter, until the pressure finally spills over and he goes with it.
Kei comes on a groan, pulling back enough that his come spills across the gore covering Kou's face. His legs give out and he's flopping down onto the floor, settled in between Kou's legs. He starts to push himself back up, to stumble into the bathtub and start cleaning the blood off, but he stops.
He leans in, slow and tentative. It's not something he usually is, but Kou is still regenerating back to life, and Kei doesn't quite feel done. He rests one hand against Kou's chest, and nips lightly at the underside of his jaw. His tongue flicks out to lick at the blood and come spattered across his face. He counts the seconds it takes until Kou twitches against him, and his chest shudders with its first try at breathing again.
At the first shudder of movement, Kei bites down harder at the curve of Kou's jaw. He does it just to hear the way Kou grunts, and winces.
"Fuck," Kou's head drops forward, resting against Kei's shoulder. He reaches up and his hands grab on tight to Kei's shirt as he tries to orient himself. "My head fucking hurts."
"You're still healing," Kei can still see the black matter around Kou's face. It's sticky, where Kou is pressing his face in against Kei's neck. At this point, Kei doesn't think that there's a spot on either of them that hasn't been stained red. For a moment, he wonders what the others would say if he were to leave the room without cleaning up. He thinks that they'd know it was from him killing Kou, that they'd say something about how he needs to let up on the guy. They're all more fond of Kou, than they are of him.
"Fuck," this time it's not a pained groan. This time it's drawn out, words heavy with something that isn't pain. Kei licks a line up the side of Kou's cheek. Blood, come, and brain. It's fucked up, he knows it is, but Kou squirms against him, and he isn't the only one who gets off on what they've been doing.
Kei drops the hand from Kou's chest, down into his lap. Usually he tries to get Kou off before he dies, so that the he can leave the moment he's sure Kou's regenerated, but sometimes that isn't the case. It's usually easier to get Kou off after he's regenerated. He's always just a little bit more desperate, but Kei still prefers being able to leave him to clean up the mess.
Kou's pants take a little bit of effort to finally work open, and it doesn't help when Kou reaches down to help. Clumsy. Still regenerating. Kei pushes his hands out of the way, works one of his own down against Kou's cock, and strokes him from base to tip. It stops all of Kou's future attempts at help. Instead it has him moaning, hands clenching and unclenching against Kei's thighs.
Kou noses at the side of his face, before he finally manages to duck in and kiss him. Kei lets him. He'll never admit it, but he's started to like the way Kou kisses the blood out of his mouth. Kou licks at the inside of his mouth, messier than he usually is. He's always clumsy when Kei's hand is on his cock, blood and precome the only thing to slick the way.
Kei twists his hand, thumbs at the head of Kou's cock, and smirks when Kou has to pull back to groan against his cheek. He's trembling, hips rocking up against Kei's hand and it's a sign that he's close.
Kei works his hand around Kou's cock, strokes up quick, and tight. For how long he lasted fucking into Kou, Kou is much quicker to get off. He's still strung tight from dying, and Kei suspects that he's started associating getting off with the smell and taste of blood.
Kou trembles against Kei, and comes with a whine. He's out of it long enough that Kei can wipe his hand clean down the back of Kou's shirt without him complaining about it. He usually complains for the sake of it, despite how his shirt is usually already drenched in sweat and blood.
When he comes back to himself, his eyes are clearer, and Kei can no longer see black matter around him. He looks just the same as he did before Kei's IBM killed him, he even has the same grin spreading across his face. Kei ignores the look, stands up and stretches out the cramps that have started to work their way into his legs.
"There's so much blood. It looks like you killed me twice," Kou laughs when he pushes himself up from the tiled floor. Kei looks around the room, counts the bloody handprints they've managed to leave everywhere. He eyes the mess as he retrieves his pants and pulls them on.
"I'm going to clean up in my room," Kei announces instead of commenting on the amount of blood on the floor. He's already heading out of the bathroom, before he hears Kou's shout. "You might want to clean up first, you've still got come on your face." He closes the door before Kou can try to follow him out. He leaves Kou to clean up the mess.
"You're an asshole," he hears Kou mutter from behind the door, but it's not an uncommon insult for him to hear.
He was right though. He passes one of Tosaki's men on the way back to his room, and hears the offhand comment about how he needs to ease up on Kou a little. He doesn't bother to respond, just continues on his way to his room. He's too fascinated to stop whatever it is he has going with Kou, and Kou seems to enjoy it too much to call quits either. They're a little bit too fucked up to care at this point.
Kei wonders what they would have been like if they hadn't been Ajin, but the thought is pointless. They're long past the point of being human, and he doesn't think he'd want to go back if he had the choice.