Disclaimer: Invader Zim ain't mine folks.
Pairing: ZaDr
Warnings: Gore, intense...make-out? Jumpy scene and char-play. and xenophillia. If you didn't like it, you wouldn't be here =D
Summary: 'The day before was wasted with toxic, biting kisses. Speckled with half-hearted interrogations - which, due to Zim's impatience, usually led to their swift and sudden demise'.
A/N: Written as a prelude to 'Parade' which began first and is currently (at least while I'm typing this) a W.I.P. It will be added as next chapter once completed. Feedback appreciated! Love, Jaffa xxx
Biting Kisses
Zim growled, pounced and claimed in one fluid movement.
His body sleek and shifting like a panther.
All smooth and sharp like glass.
His teeth drew blood.
Claws drew prey nearer, nearer...
Close.
Dib dodges and weaves and charges in feral, near desperate movements. His eyes paranoid yet cocky.
Cold yet... vibrant with insanity.
His lips growled promises.
Words drew predator closer, closer...
Near.
Blood dripped from flesh and cloth and wallpaper.
Saliva hooked and drooped from head and neck and chest.
-Irken shouts, Human pleas-
It was a beautiful Sunday morning.
A day to waste, a night to remember.
A body tossed to the floor - Zim's.
Another chasing after is - Dib's.
One slashed chin to collarbone swiftly, cackled over, whispered over, promised over - some others.
Zim pounced again as Dib growled and shouted threats.
Human slithering free and running again - voice echoing over walls and cells and cages.
They collided - exploded again.
Fists and feet and teeth and antenna - reaching, grabbing, taking-
A whispered demand.
A startled yelp.
A grimace.
A tremble.
Blood and spit dripped, dripped...
Splattered.
Spider legs tore and held.
Feet kicked and torsos shifted.
Stumbling, cajoling, combat boots and metallic tinkling.
A tattered trench coat billowed as it's owner shouted something victorious from the outside air.
The predator cackled as he leapt and captured.
A knife twisted, chain pulled tight.
A whispered demand.
A frightened, unintelligent beg.
The prey launched, blood dripping from his face.
Held his hand over the Irken knife.
Jerked it up, up...
Home.
Blood sprayed, Zim began to cackle anew.
Dib was silent...
Silent...
Until bloody claws gripped blood-matted hair, sharp teeth tore into cool, fragile flesh.
Then Dib let show his content smile.
Climbed over the dead prisoner and claimed green lips, biting until pink again joined red.
"We'll kill them all," Dib warned.
Zim nipped at a fine-stubbled chin, "oh well."
"The resistance-" Dib argued, a low moan.
"Will fall tomorrow," the Irken growled his impatience. Biting, Biting...
Kissing.
"Yes, Master," Dib agrees, roughly throwing the Irken's body over the dead man's, "then stop chasing."
"Stop running," Zim growled back, lips tweaked in a seductively sadistic smirk.
Dib threw his arms up, "don't you see? I got out!" he laughed, rather bitter.
Zim leant back, lying on the still-warm body like it was a cushion. He gestured lazily with two fingers.
Dib obediently moved, crawling to the Irken's lap.
"Don't you see," the predator hummed, "you're still mine."
xxx