For Tomorrow Night
"Do you love me?"
Black nailed fingers slide down pale skin, pure skin, skin that's been darkened countless times by bruises. He follows the mechanics of love making, laying kisses on tender flesh and ignores that he can smell his soul underneath the perfume. It's enticing, and he wants it. Supple hips thrust upwards, sky blue eyes dark with a million things that swirl and waver.
"Do you love me?"
He pauses, spreading his soft thighs and placing kisses on the dainty skin there, he'll leave his marks all over his body. The blue eyes are expectant, and he stares evenly back.
"No."
The candle light flickers, dancing shadows on the wall beckoning, an orange glow covering everything the way blood covers hands. He laughs, a disgustingly fake sound, eyes narrowing to stare into flashing gold that tell more than the demon realizes. He pulls at dark hair, wrenching painfully, and hates that he receives no grunt of pain. They kiss, deep, and he ignores that he can taste the darkness in his mouth.
"I guess I should have expected that from you."
They don't move together slow and gentle. They go fast, rough, until he cries out in delighted agony, tortured eyes begging for more. Black nailed fingers grip small hips, moving deeper inside, and wishes that this was just the mechanics. Wishes that his heart would still, and he would stop adoring every sound out of that sweet mouth.
He tastes pleasure almost as thick as the soul writhing before him, and lets his composure drop, because his master doesn't see it. He moves closer, scenting him through his skin, memorizing every detail even though it will happen again. And again. And again. And again.
Love? Nothing so ridiculous as that.
They don't go about the mechanics of pillow talk, or cuddling, and golden eyes show relief at that. They dress calmly, master first, then servant. Black nailed fingers grip the door knob, and he knows that tomorrow night, he'll be doing the same thing. And the night after that, and the night after the next, until those tortured eyes see what they want to see, and those tiny fingers touch what they want to touch. And knows that it'll never happen.
"Claude."
He pauses, turns, waits for an order. Knows that he'll have to sit until his master is asleep. He goes through the mechanics, but he doesn't know what he's doing anymore, and sky blue eyes see it and know it. Around them, the night deepens the way darkness always does, and it compliments the darkness that another can taste if they try, all over his skin.
"Tell me you love me."
Not a question. Gold eyes narrow. A sweet mouth smiles. Those blue eyes are expectant, and he stares evenly back.
"I love you, Your Highness."
He laughs, a disgustingly fake sound, pulling the solidified darkness to him, kissing the mouth that tasted of night. There is no guidebook to follow, just destruction waiting for them at the end of a seemingly ceaseless path that would one day lead off the edge of a cliff. He'll say these words again tomorrow night, and the night after that, because his master really wants an answer to the first question. His master really wants a 'yes'.
"I should have expected that, from you."
Owari