Warnings: Spellcraft, some mention of blood, explicit sexual content (2 of 3 chapters worth), the forging of a contract the equivalent of marriage (and you know that scares the hell out of some of you)
To say Shiro was shocked would be an understatement. To say he was thrilled would be so far out of left field that the thought might as well have been from the Other Side. However, as his wide gold eyes stared dumbfounded at the tumbling cherry of his cigarette getting smaller while the powerful wings of the demon above him carried them away from their perch, he clung to that naked being with all of his might. He wasn't afraid of heights, free-running rather precluded that sort of phobia, but this was HIGH. He'd never been this high in the air before. Even if he could get his mind to stop reeling and his heart to climb out of his throat, the wind tore away his voice before words could even form on his tongue.
Ulquiorra held him yet closer, arrowing through the sky at speeds faster than a bullet, and yet his particular aerodynamics made it possible to create a 'pocket' of safe space with his body, preventing the wind from shearing the flesh from the human's bones. The city, the sky, the world flashed by at speeds incomprehensible to the human mind, which Ulquiorra, fastest demon alive, navigated easily. He had a destination in mind—someplace safe, and dark, where he could enjoy his human in peace.
The flare of power upon crossing under the gates leading to the shrine set back in the woods outside of Karakura was unmistakable. Shiro's hand tightened slightly on Ulquiorra's chest. "I—I know this place. Uncle Pervert Hat talked 'bout it. Th' Senkai Shrine. It's called th' Sacred Gates. Why're we here?"
"Because none can visit harm upon another here…and you are mine," his voice was a low thrum in his chest as he winged his way between pillars. "I have caught you and I will let no other touch you. Or take you away. The best place to ensure you remain mine is to bring you here. I cannot take you to my Tower, nor would I if I could...this is the next best thing."
"Uh...wow..." Shiro blinked.
Shifting slightly so he could reach his gauntlet with his other arm, the albino twisted a gemstone that floated freely in a socket on the back. His costume for the night was that of the mages of old, gauntlets made of metal, a shirt with embroidered symbols on cuffs and neckline, breeches tucked into supportive boots, and a medallion engraved with more of the same symbols that adorned the rest of his clothing. To the mundane world, he just looked like a pirate or possibly a dashing hero from the Renaissance, but twisting that almost clear bead opened the channels of his clothing to respond to the ley lines that traveled under the shrine. Oh yes, magic was not lost to humans in this age of technology, but most were like the rest of his pathetic group, ignorant as babes-in-the-crib.
Ulquiorra's body rippled and shuddered and he slowed considerably. "Ah...please, do not...do that when I'm flying. It..." He shivered and lost a foot of height before recovering, "affects me negatively."
He found the alcove, the darkened, but spacious and comfortable niche, he was looking for and glided in to land, toe-talons distinctly curled. He, of course, recognized Shiro as a mage. And he would make sure everyone else knew this mage was claimed, which was partly why they were in this particular spot. It was situated directly on the Personal Ley Line that was keyed specifically to Ulquiorra's magical signature. It had been a lockdown precaution he'd taken before dying and being cursed, one he was glad of. It meant the bastards who had taken advantage of him over the years couldn't use it for themselves.
"A, gomene." Shiro apologized again, blushing slightly.
He'd never been this far into the shrine before. Though he didn't like to admit it, he was a bit of a coward when it came to the supernatural. Not only was he aware of his own limitations, he was painfully aware of the fact that creatures much, MUCH more powerful than he roamed the worlds, especially in place of power like this one. He winced slightly, a hand briefly touching his temple before he covered the motion by running his fingers through his hair. His eyes hadn't always been stained black, but these days, only he remembered that fact. The nue that followed Renji had bitten him when it realized he could see it, and the poison from the snake-head's fangs had both inverted the sclera in his eyes, and permanently dyed his fingernails black. One he could cover with nail polish, and he did so often, but the other...well that had taken a memory spell he'd crafted calling on Dionysus, for his power of suggestion, and Loki, for the ability to deceive even those closest to him. It wasn't something he liked to brag about, in spite of the power of the spell, and it had made him possibly over-cautious regarding exploring his talent for tapping into the ley lines around him.
Ulquiorra braked as gently as he could, set down, and put Shiro on his own two feet. He used his hand to tilt Shiro's chin up, and kissed his forehead—right over his Third Eye. He, being demonic, had been able to see the changes from the first. He found them intriguing.
"Come. We never set a term for what would happen if I caught you. Thus, I am going to Mark you," He said firmly. "You are a powerful mage, even as inexperienced as you are. You could help me find my Key. And I might be able to help you with that pesky little venom problem of yours. Nue are so needlessly aggressive."
Shockwaves tore through his already opened power centers, and the albino purred, the sensation rippling through his core and straight to where all such power ends up, the Sacral Chakra.
"Y-ya know? O'course ya know." He scoffed at himself. "Yer one o' th' Four."
Being in this place was making him a little power-high, causing him to burble a little, and reveal parts of himself that he would normally keep under wraps. It was why he'd opened his symbols in the first place, walking through a place as heavy in magic as this was with closed gateways was just asking for a reaction headache.
"Exactly," Ulquiorra replied.
He darted back and forth, quick as could be from one side of the room to the other, gathering dried herb bundles from magical storage, bringing candles for the cardinal points, as well as a ritual athame and a spell-book he kept wrapped securely in the curve of his tail. He guided Shiro into the center of his Power Pool and began to set up a spell circle around him, drawing in the stone with a black chalk that glowed purple on the floor as it gathered power.
"Should I take my clothes off? I know a lot o' this Markin' stuff has to be done naked, an' my amulets might get in th' way." Shiro watched, very intrigued.
It came to him in the back of his mind that maybe he should say something about his suspicions regarding the First King and the fact that being Marked by one of the Four would be an extremely powerful spell for a novice like himself, but the simple fact that one of the Four wanted to Mark him blew his mind to bits. He wasn't just an interesting play-toy, this insanely powerful demon had decided that he was worthy of being his mate in most aspects. A shiver of excitement ran down his spine again, and a purr escaped his lips at the thought that he'd never again have to worry about rejection at the hands and hearts of pitiful humans.
"It would facilitate the Marking Ritual," Ulquiorra replied with that quirk of his lips.
He had a willing participant—lovely. He could Mark him fully then. He could admittedly Mark him in less...truly claiming ways, but then what was the point in the Mark? Everything placed, he stepped inside the Circle, closed it, and began to approach, as the white summoner quickly disrobed, baring his pale flesh, branded with intricate, silvery, scars, to the moonlight.
"As with most things, this is a spell that requires verbal acknowledgement and consent- much like a Contract. Do you Consent to be Marked, to have your life bound to mine, to allow me access to your mind, heart, body, and magic, to share with me all that you are and have much of me shared with you in turn? The only replies are 'I Consent' and 'I do Not Consent', I warn you."
Shiro blinked, the weight of that question pressed heavily on his heart. His King crossed his mind, the bond they had, the connection that had lasted through their mother and grandfather's deaths, through the teasing and the bullying growing up, through the loss of their home when their father's medical clinic hadn't been enough to support four children, and finally through the hardships of college. He thought of the rift growing between them now that King had his Consort, and the way that more often than not he was left behind when the pair went out. The sting of how he looked in the eyes of those around him, and the fact that the only comfort he'd ever had outside of his King were the ancient texts he painstakingly translated after studying dead languages for so long that his vision would cloud over in exhaustion. Finally, he thought of the intricate carvings, etched into his alabaster skin, scarred over after having been irritated and re-opened enough times for the incantations to be permanent. The pain, and ache and utter loneliness that accompanied his studies. The answer was clear.
"I Consent."
Ulquiorra's wings flared high in arousal and pleasure as his eyes went dark and sharp. "You Consent to be Mine. In return, I pledge to be Yours. My strength will be yours to call on in need. My knowledge yours to utilize. My emotions yours to enjoy, few as they are. I know my pledge is not the same as a Contract nor Consent, but it is all I can offer for as long as I am cursed...and it will enable you to summon me outside of the Samhain." He kissed Shiro's Third Eye again, then his lips. "To continue the ritual, you must Confirm your Consent and my pledge thrice, preferably with kisses to seal each Confirmation."
Three was the magic number, after all—the magical 'back out clause' that made sure whoever was doing the spell were really doing what they meant to do. Knowing this, Shiro took the pale face that so matched his own into this hands.
He kissed Ulquiorra's lips, "I Consent."
Then he bent and kissed just below the hole in the demon's chest, "I Consent."
And finally he knelt to kiss the pitch fur that covered the other's Sacral Chakra. "I Consent."
From his knees, the albino blinked up into the poison emeralds of his demon and waited anxiously for the next step of the ritual. By kneeling, he had not only pledged to be Marked, but he had agreed to be the 'bottom' in the relationship, should it ever be more physical than what the ritual required. He had always been a horse for his King, and though the term 'riding' had been applied to who was impaled by whom, the one in control had always been his King. Well, now, even if he never 'rode' Ulquiorra in that manner, he would be controlled by his demon, and he wanted it made explicitly clear to the gods and everyone.
Ulquiorra's toes curled so hard his talons gouged into the floor. By all that was foul and unholy! His tail turned into a knot of flexible muscle and fluff. He shivered and gently pulled his fingers through the white hair, breathing, "And so you are Mine. Now, I may Mark you. In the circumstances, I wish to Mark you as fully and completely as possible. That will involve penetrative sex acts, biting and essentially flooding you with my magic. Do you Consent to this?"
"I Consent." It wasn't even something to think about any longer.
"Good. Now, kindly say 'servios'," Ulquiorra said, eyes burning. "I cannot make love to you as long as my fur is holding me back, not until after you've been Marked and the curse registers you as 'allowed to touch me'. We can have fun with this form later, for the Marking I must be as human as I can get."
"Servios." The foreign word tickled his tongue and the power of it surged through his scars and symbols like wildfire, making him hard enough to pound nails.
There was a second ripple effect, this time much more distinct, and Ulquiorra threw back his head, snarling as his fur was forcibly retracted, tail disappearing, wings losing their light fur to grow scales instead, horns shrinking and untwisting until what was left was a man. A man with horns and wings and long, sharp black claws, green tear tattoos on his cheeks—and naked. Very naked. Ramrod-hard and naked.
Shiro wasn't even thinking any longer as that erection appeared in front of him. He immediately ran his hand along it, and drew the head into his mouth with a moan. He'd known this demon was worth playing with!
The sudden diving into the sex, into the pleasure, made Ulquiorra hiss and his wings fluttered, as did his eyelids, long fingers pulling through the albino's hair before fisting, not pulling but hanging on. It had been...a long time indeed.
Sucking deeper, Shiro inched forward, his hands leaving the glorious cock in his mouth to grip the slim hips for stability. He moaned again, his own groin tight and aching with need. After settling himself into a slow rhythm, he slid his tongue out to literally drool on his hand, then reached behind himself. Finding his own entrance and slipping his forefinger in to the knuckle was nothing, a procedure he'd done more times than he could count. Even the second was nothing, and his angle of sucking never changed. He rhythm faltered when he brushed his own prostate, but he covered it with a swallow around the delicious flesh in his mouth.
Ulquiorra was moaning like a two-bit slut, wings down on the ground behind him to function as supports as his knees trembled, eyes shut tight and hands shaking where they were fisted in the albino's hair.
"F-fuck..."
The tremble of power between them warned Shiro before the demon's scrotum could, and he pulled back, holding his balance by gripping the base of Ulquiorra's length firmly. His other hand was buried deep behind him, four fingers, and plenty stretched for the taking.
"How d'ya want me?" His voice was husky, roughened by heavy sucking and rumbling with the licks of a power that burned hot just under the surface.
"On a bed, but on your back will have to do," the demon purred huskily, eyes so dark they were nearly black. "I want to see every face you make. Every change of expression."
He gently pushed the other down, sinking to his knees and following him down, licking his lips in a manner more befitting a very different kind of demon, a much more vulpine version. The touch brought a moan from the albino's lips, but he happily lay back, spreading his legs and hiking his hips, eager to be filled. As soon as demon and mage were prone, he pulled Shiro's legs up on either side of his hips, kissing his mouth, his cheeks, and his eyes after coaxing him to close them. Still slick from Shiro's mouth, he slid easily inside his new lover and moaned deeply as his wings flared out and up.
The blue tongue, also a gift from the nue's poison, darted out to lap and accompany nipping teeth as the albino explored the demon-lover. Being filled was exquisite, a pleasure he hadn't felt in over three years as that was how long his King had been with the blue-haired Consort, and somehow knowing that this wasn't because the other felt pity for him, but actually wanted him, made the pleasure all the sweeter. He wrapped his legs around the other, silently begging him to move, and whimpering.
Ulquiorra nuzzled into his neck and gave him what he wanted—he began to thrust. His arms came around Shiro's back to hold him closer and he started to nip and lick at him. If he'd had his tail, he'd have been running the fluff sensually all over his skin.
The mage moaned, power surging through his veins. Every thrust was like taking a hit on a drug that sent him spinning into nothing and flying higher than a kite. And yet, this was better than any man-made substance he'd ever tried. He matched the rhythm, grasping with his blunt black nails, and moaning like a wanton whore.
Ulquiorra was chanting in his ear, a language so old and long-dead even Shiro didn't know it, the same set of words over and over. If asked, he would've been hard-pressed to give an exact translation; something like I pray this never ends, I may love you and I want to own you forever, you are all mine, in five or six words that he kept murmuring repeatedly, his thrusts speeding up as he bit Shiro's neck and soothed the red spot with his tongue.
Golden eyes shot open, glowing with the magic of the ritual. There was something...something important...burning in his core. He shifted his hips, bringing Ulquiorra's member deeper into himself, deep enough to thrust through his chakra. He moaned at the combination of sensations. Then, of their own volition his hands ran down the demon's spine to grip the place where his wings sprouted from his back. Beyond his orgasm, there was a deep magic building, something long forgotten and truly powerful. Unconsciously, Shiro pushed them towards it, hungering for it in a way that almost over shadowed his desire to be Marked.
Ulquiorra could resist no longer. He bit Shiro, drawing blood, and his magic was forced into the mage through the bite, the majority of it raging through them both in a loop that sank into Shiro's center and shoved them both headlong into that deep magic, past Marking, past even orgasm, straight into the heart of whatever it was within the other, driven and spurred on by the grip on the base of his wings—which contained one of Ulquiorra's own unique chakras, and lent him his incredible wing-speed.
The current of magic, on top of their furious pace, captured them both, wrapping around them in a golden, blinding light. If they climaxed, Shiro didn't notice as that power surged through his body greater than anything before. That deep place, that ancient spell, stole Ulquiorra's power, enveloped it in light and merged with it, overpowering the demon. The shrine shone in the darkness of the coming dawn like a beacon in the middle of an inky sea, and the flares of that sun-on-earth arced up into the sky, through the veil between worlds and out, awakening the other three of the Four from their millennial slumber. It was awe-inspiring. It was overwhelming. It left Shiro panting like a racehorse after the Triple Crown, and he could do nothing but lay underneath his lover, eyes blank but for the spark of leftover power.
"Wow..."
Ulquiorra was left atop him, panting, shuddering, body weak, and abruptly he realized something was very wrong. He tried to use a wing to level himself up and found they were not responding. He looked behind him—they were gone! His breathy cry of surprise was punctuated by, when he sat up, his own black nails being simply nails instead of claws, and his horns had disappeared entirely.
Shiro tiredly trailed a hand down his chest—his whole chest, with no hole or dark, inky, blood-like markings. "This mean ya don' wanna Mark me an'more?" He slurred a little.
Ulquiorra growled wordlessly and nipped at his neck, where his Mark was, big and bold, a gothic 4 in the same poisonous green as his eyes. Curse broken or not, he was still a demon, and Shiro was most definitely still his Marked. The albino chuckled, a wistful shiver in his voice.
"Okay then." He purred, wrapping an exhausted arm around his lover's shoulders as the first light of dawn over the horizon. A blade of fear crossed his features, as he realized that the night of Samhain was over, and his Contract had expired.
Ulquiorra turned one baleful eye on the dawn light, hissed, and drew a cloak of blackness over the room. "You will summon me again...after we sleep. For now, this stalling of night cover is all I can do. And in the next Contract, don't put such definite terms on when I must leave, ne?"
"Heh. Next time...I'll write it th' fuck down so ya can't leave 'nless ya want ta." Shiro grumbled sleepily, curling around his lover with another purr.