Honestly, I think I'm bad at sex scenes. They might be violent because that's where I find solace and protection: some umbrella to hide under to conceal the fact that I might not understand nice sex...
Probably shouldn't have told you that. And, I never do this, but I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed last time. I was absolutely giddy when I found those emails tucked away so much like Valentine's cards in my inbox. It's a lovely, lovely feeling, being appreciated like that!
... well... [slurps down rum n' coke] tell me what you like and what you just can't stand (not that I'll fix anything).
He sloughed the lazy form off him and pressed it to the bed, ignoring the giggles and then the still quiet that followed. Gently, he stripped the other, dropping clothes shortly over the side of the bed. He leaned over, about to kiss the man when a princely foot met him instead, a challenging, but already satisfied face meeting him over the peak of an exposed knee. He kissed a big toe, moving along the side of the sole, nipping, licking, impossibly fucking flesh with his mouth. Kaname groaned when the tongue laved at his calf, moving along hastily to the top of his knee and up toward a peaked thigh. Zero lifted and spread the legs as he worked, holding them up and suspending them while his arms shook and he reached a stiff cock, a hand excitedly pumping it. He bit the fingers there until they released it, but didn't dare touch the thing himself. He pushed up the man's hips until they sat in his lap, the limbs strewn across his thighs and moving constantly, feet kicking at sheets in slow motion.
"Being so tedious… I thought you said no teasing." The words were clumped and awkward, drawn out into an uncharacteristic drawl at the brunette's convenience. The hunter listened to a constant heart beat, slow and hardly affected; an immortal by any means. He gripped the bottom of the man's spine and dragged his hand slowly downward, widening the pale crease and dipping his fingers inside, grimacing and looking down when they came out glistening.
In a second, he'd shoved his elbow into the bastard's throat and brought his fingers up to inspect them, a muffled mouth trying to question him, confused legs thrashing against him until he shouted,
"Shut up!" Removing his arm from the man's throat, he squinted as he moved his fingers around, the viscous liquid squelching and catching the light with an iridescent shine. He didn't bother smelling it.
A fist cracked down on Kaname's jaw, and the hunter loomed over him, ready to deliver another one,
"Who fucked you?" He spat, anger causing his hand to shake, the fist untidy and trembling in earnest. The brunette, beyond the contusions and blood speckling his face, said dreamily,
"What?" and the younger grabbed his chin, ripping him up from the bed, and held him, suspended by a sore mandible.
"You were surrounded by those prissy cunts tonight, and God knows each and every one of you lacks the restraint of a respectable person. So, I want to know just which one of them got some miserable cock" the pureblood jolted as Zero shoved the moist fingers inside of him, parting him deep and wide in wroth emphasis, "up here." They prodded him wrathfully, as if searching for the answer inside, though they only coated themselves with more of the question. The man released him then, and he fell back, stunned, still wriggling as the fingers went deeper, eyes widening, fingers unsure if they should start defending him, the drug unravelling his conscience and rattling his voracious lust. The hunter leaned into his neck, back crooked in a beastly crouch as his free hand wrapped around a shuddering neck,
"If you don't tell me," he shoved the fingers in, thumb widening the entrance as it pressed against hot skin, "then I will drag your wife in here and ask her if she knows." Burgundy eyes narrowed and stared at him with a reluctant hatefulness, still woozy from the pill,
"I did nothing, and here you are, lecturing me in defence of the most loathsome double-standard you could have conjured." He caught a fist as it came at his face, but pissed off his companion, who gripped him from inside and dragged him forward, catching him off-guard as he gasped and let free the hand that soon grappled his throat, crushing it as the engorged head of the other man's cock bobbed where the fingers were slowly coming out. They played with the pearly liquid again before reaching for his mouth, open from a near-shout that still echoed prospectively in his heaving lungs,
"N-no, Zer-" They plunged in, and he tasted them, bit at them, drew fresh blood which mixed with a congealed mass of old blood, semen, and shit, all pungent on his tongue as he quivered and arched off the bed, back an elegant curve fitting awkwardly, snugly over the hunter's muscular thighs. The silver-haired man immediately drew the fingers to his chest, cradling them as scabs crusted over the numerous punctures, infused with that gritty white. The sight repulsed him, and he looked toward the source of his displeasure, satisfied by the horror that crossed the man's expression. What had he been thinking, those minutes ago? Entrusting such a filthy creature with his care and love… who could have recalled good times between them, a hunter and, apparently, a whore?
"Zero," Kaname huffed, trying to get up on his elbows and have a level conversation. But the held his neck fast, awaiting the tiresome explanation, "it's not"
"-'what I think', right? Trying to convince me this is some misunderstanding?" The pureblood's entrance was already starting to tighten, pulling back from preparation in favour of a more natural, healed state. The hunter's cockhead pressed up closer, and alarm met a predatory face,
"No! It's, it's not… it's complicated. Please. Let me tell you," Zero grinned madly,
"I'm listening right here," he caressed the wet skin, which shivered at his touch as he pried with two fingers, teasing and pushing forth just a centimetre his dry erection. The pureblood closed his eyes and panted, trying to get the words out, "Tell me, Kaname. Whose is it? Who else has fucked you? Was it Kain? He's a man, isn't he? Did he tire of Ruka's babbling and hold you instead? I bet he was big," he laughed humourlessly, "he's a tall fuck, after all. Must have reminded you of Rido, stretching you so wide with that big body-"
"LISTEN TO ME, ZERO!!!" The man quieted, stunned. "It was Takuma." It was silent. A heartless smile still plagued the younger man's face as he blanked out for a moment. His friend had closed his eyes again, body colder, shivering from the assault between his legs and the cooling fluids that dripped from there. "He looked strange when he held Yuki. He was remembering Shiki. She told me she wanted to try to help him, but I wouldn't have it, so I propositioned him her stead. He was breaking down, so she helped me set up an illusion."
...That blonde fuck, dreamy body poised over Kaname's, half-covered by sheets which had only held the prince and his wife...
"We did it to help him. He's dying!"
... Dipping low and kissing him, thrusting, ravaging him without knowing it, manicured hands holding a back saturated with sweat, finally coming into something that didn't belong to him...
"It's what I did for you when we were in high school," Zero's hand clenched that pale neck more tightly, closing an exhausted windpipe and relishing the pain it was surely causing.
"And where exactly did that lead you?"
Into his bed. His, an ex human's bed, and only his bed. Or so he'd dreamed. No one else but for Yuki's sake had the pureblood come so low, going so far as to whore himself out in her place. And in the beginning, it had led him directly to some pest ex human's side. He was the most pathetic self-proclaimed martyr of his time, it seemed, and he'd done it all for her, just like Zero thought he could. And, don't get him wrong; Zero loved her to death—would give his life and anyone else's to her—but Kaname was his property. He had been gracious to share him with her in the later years. He never thought it would come to such a pivotal point in the way he thought of her.
A hand lightly, soothingly held his wrist, which continued to shake with the strain of constricting that lovely throat. His eyes were wide, and a burgundy wave blew through him as the other male stared up at him and said his name, quite hoarsely, and more lovingly and frightfully than he wanted to hear,
"Zero,"
He pushed in at that point, face shimmering with cold sweat, eyes alight with animosity and cruel delight sprung from that pitiable vampire's long, painful scream. Senses amplified by drugs, ears ringing, thrusting in harshly. He took Kaname as deep as he could, pace messy with anger and the burgeoning, powerful force of full-fledged arousal batting at his reservations, concealing the fact that anyone could know where they and what they were doing, though everybody probably did. Cracks in plaster and bruised wrists don't really lie.
When he looked down, he saw flesh: a beautiful face that occasionally contorted when he changed his approach, numbing animalistic gratification pulsating from bites left on the legs he held high, bending down to further study that startling form. He pounded the brunette into the sheets with the adrenaline and excitement of a berserk, all but cracking the hip bones bouncing against his tight stomach, mesmerised by their inhuman flexibility and resistance. Above the fear he could sense, ever suppressed by an iron will, a tired resistance, and a suspect expectance, knowing precisely what he would do, and simply waiting to be done with it. Always had he been disconcerted by that intelligence and 'wisdom'. It didn't mean anything if the bastard just sat there and took it. Every time. Dealing with a petulant hunter as if he were the burden of the world! These thoughts contaminated Zero and, likely enough, it was all he could do not to up and kill the pureblood, exhaustive and difficult as that plan seemed.
Kaname, however, was hyperaware of the man's thoughts. Beyond the pain and disgusting sounds of flesh slapping against flesh; beyond the reminiscent images of Rido mounting him, a terrified boy, and pushing him into the sheets with little care for being discovered; beyond the irksome responsibility he felt he had to carry for his friend lay a quiet acceptance of his 'fate', whatever the man would decide it to be. Even if he, once in a great while, found himself fearing this dismal fact, the terror was always shooed away by the comfort of his wife, or the great, strange solace he found in the man's company. His relaxation caved in to reveal affection, which he knew the other male would refuse to acknowledge, not that he really ever attempted to hide what he felt. If it was apparent to others, then surely the man knew. So, in the end, maybe the entire problem was Zero's fault.
Holding in a scream with a small chain of choked "Ah-Ah-Ah"s, the brunette's venture to resign himself just ever-so slightly seemed to be failing. Because it hurt like Hell and he knew the hunter had the stamina of a horse when he was irascible or brooding. His licked his dry lips, waiting for his pants to make them crack again. Every now and then he'd arch, close his eyes, have to let out some sound and pray no one could here him. He was ripping inside, and found that when he thrashed, it only hurt more, but when he didn't, it became to dry so quickly that he nearly yelled out, never mind the fact that he didn't need any help to put this miserable little boy to the ground in less than a second. He didn't quite know why he was putting up with it, but for calling it another onerous disturbance to be chalked up by his damned self-claimed responsibility for someone he wasn't quite sure how to handle.
When Zero at last came, it might have hurt as much as when he first started, had it not been for the blood Kaname had reluctantly eked from his body by squirming. The hunter shouted and pounded as hard as he could before resting, and waiting for the waves to stop, still lodged tightly inside as he finished. The pureblood was already starting to feel nauseous. He tried to speak, but when he did, the deep rumbling in his chest vibrated just slightly his scabbing rectum. But he had to say something. Something to break the silence before it snuffed any explanations or cover-ups they could utilise. He kept thinking, hurriedly processing and trying to keep at bay the stabbing pain he felt when he moved, amplified by the sensational drug. Zero disconnected them, in turn disconnecting his thoughts as he tried to t least babble, lips still frozen, voice box cracking under the pressure. The hunter sat at the edge of the bed, wiped his mouth, and balanced his elbows on his knees, still sweating.
"… I think that was the least violent sex we've had in a while." His voice was like the break of a pause in a movie, when the heroine jumps and spins around to find the killer. Kaname was trying to comprehend what he said, unable to get up just yet. Then he saw those eyes on him, vast, blackish purple depths waiting for a reply or a nod or… something normal. The man turned to face him fully then, leaning over and placing an arm on the other side of his body, staring at him with unbidden self-disgust and a bizarre guilt he'd never thought would be centred on him. Then, with almost grim resolution, Zero bent down and kissed his neck gently, timorously awaiting a cohesive response. He did it again, and again, softly parting his lips in some sort of lame apology for what he'd done. But Kaname had no idea how he was expected to react; he'd only rarely had to deal with this softness in his friend. So, wincing, he sat up, streaking blood and seminal fluid on the sheets as the hunter watched him, brown hair cunningly blocking an inquiring gaze. He glanced at the clock on the wall, which shone a stately 3:00, and drew the other man back to his neck, holding his back and head like a newborn, tentative hands pulling him in,
"I won't be able to sleep unless you knock me out." He shifted his legs, wincing again in affirmation that, damn it, it wasn't going to stop hurting for the meeting that afternoon. He'd ask about the drug later.
His friend was imbalanced and unsure, but bit down and savoured the shudder with which he was met, becoming greedier and placid as the brunette slumped, minutes passing before he came away and found the man a bruised, bloodied, thoroughly fucked-and-sucked unconscious pile of flesh. Sure, he felt guilty. It was why he pulled up the blanket from the floor, and tried to make the man as comfortable as possible. It was why he cleaned up the room, showered, and left like a bat out of Hell, willing to lay low until the formal funeral. It was why when he faced Takuma next, he didn't fly into a rage and divulge every reason why Kaname belonged to him; was his property. And the brunette found it was why he couldn't get a sight of the bastard until the next mission, even if the sex hadn't been nearly as brutal as other times, which involved cannibalism, among other things. What he later frightfully and achingly realised was the fact that, no matter what, Zero wanted him, and that possessiveness could very well speak for something more hateful. It was all he could dream of that the hunter would affirm this horrific, loving possibility.