AN: This chapter has some drug stuff in it, but it is also just very talk heavy and... introspective?

Anatomy and Physiology

Want.

It was something Krista and Rhea were becoming painfully accustomed to.

This… wantthat ate at them from the toes up.

Yes. They hurt. Finding it a crime that they held no interest in Leonel, despite his sweetness and consideration. The gentleness of his grasp and the soft press of his lips against their cheek.

They liked him, but they had no desire to pursue anything with him.

However, they still wanted.

Wanted the man dressed in black.

Wanted him so fiercely they felt they were being devoured whole by it.

With a shuddering sigh, they pushed into the tavern. Eyes scanning the room dimly lit by dingy yellow lights.

There, at the table they'd left him at, sat the Hunter. The man they desired so strongly they'd likely tear apart the world just to be near him.

However, they wondered if that was his original glass of wine or a new one.

They weren't sure which they'd prefer.

And they weren't sure if they felt happy or unsettled by the fact that his eyes were upon them the moment they entered. Something that could be easily explained away by D's propensity to be constantly aware of every move around him.

Being so keenly aware, they were certain he'd taken notice of the way they burst through the door. The flush to their cheeks and the draw of their lips. Especially if the narrowing of his gaze was much to go by.

He was standing before they could even contemplate sitting at the table with him. Gesturing for them to follow. And without a word, they did. Skittering along until they were both in a room that smelled of dust and old ladies' closets.

Kinda comforting.

"What happened?" he asked as he shut the door behind them.

"He was super nice, but we didn't feel a need to pursue more than a possible friendship with him."

It didn't seem that is what he expected. Offering a short hum as he crossed the room to deposit his gear and armor. Notably tense about the shoulders.

Something Rhea was quick to spot. "Sorry," she snorted. "Were you afraid he'd done somethin' bad?"

It was simple. All the question required was a 'yes' or a 'no'. Yet, the Hunter opted to respond, "You looked quite upset."

"We are. But only because of what we said." With a shrug, they reiterated, "He was super sweet, but we didn't want him. At all."

He seemed to consider this as he gathered the stuff needed for a shower. "My apologies," he eventually breathed.

They weren't sure why. It wasn't his fault that the boy wasn't attractive.

Well… physically, yes, he was. But…

No draw.

"D?"

He paused. Fingers wrapped about the knob on the bathroom door. But whatever happened to be on their minds, they must have decided against voicing. Muttering a sheepish, "Enjoy your bath."

His shower came and went, the scalding temperature of the water leaving his skin flushed with a lively hue. But he did not take the free time that came with the girls showering to sharpen blades. Instead, his mind continued to toss ideas about.

As it had since the girls went on their date.

Even before then.

When Krista and Rhea had practically demanded they be taught something.

Sure, he could continue to avoid it. Skirt around the topic until they detested him with every fiber of their being. But… not really.

"… figure it out?" Erembour grunted.

D answered honestly as he watched the Demon prowl about the room, saying that he'd not come up with an appropriate idea. One that preferably kept the girls fully clothed when he possessed nothing to write on, nor did he have any graphics for them to view without his input.

"… why not give them what they want?"

The man felt uncharacteristically close to rolling his eyes and asking God why he was gifted such companions. Wishing, once again, that he had a large container of Salsa Booze.

He might not become drunk, but it might comfort his agitated mind for a couple of minutes. Assuming he was willing to drink enough to kill a normal man.

"I kinda agree with him," Hand interjected. "Bet they wouldn't mind if you gave them the D."

Was it too late to chop off his left hand? Reject the connection he had with the bloody thing?

The door to the bathroom snapped open as he contemplated his own dismemberment, slapping against the wall with enough force to garner a furious wall-bang from their neighbor. But the girls, contrary to their normal attitude, did not apologize. Instead, they leapt across the room.

Arms wound about his throat.

And down into the bedding the two bodies went.

Perhaps D could have held his ground. Kept himself upright.

But then, of all the things the man expected, he'd not anticipated the girls flying out of the bathroom as naked as a picked bird to tackle him to the bed. Small, soft body clinging to his.

In fact, his initial reaction had been to knock them out.

He wouldn't have had an excuse for such a thing this time. And to say the countenanced carbuncle was amused by it was an understatement.

'What a violent introduction into fisting.'

Perhaps he was thankful the creature kept his thoughts mostly to himself. Especially as, slowly, gingerly, they curled about his torso. Slinging a slim leg across his hips before they climbed atop him. Staring at him as if he were the answer to all their problems.

If he so wished it, he probably could be.

"What are you doing?"

Their face twisted as they pushed themselves upwards, the fingers splayed across his bare abdomen softly kneading. "Getting you before you can escape. It's learnin' time, D."

And based off the look they were drilling into him, he was certain that knocking them out was the only way to escape the conversation. So, he held out his hands, palms open and turned towards them. Carefully, as if they were a wild animal. "You have my attention."

If that alone didn't make them preen like a primped-up cat.

"Okay. So," they started, pressing the hand not kneading his belly to their breast. "Baby milk makers, right?"

He huffed out an amused breath. Eyes crinkling just the slightest bit as he responded, "If that is how you wish to view breasts."

"Breasts. Yeah. Okay. Bubbies." They lightly jiggled the mound of flesh before flushing in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"It's alright," he said, briefly glancing at their baby pink underwear that he'd missed when being attacked. "However, if you are wishing for an anatomy lesson, might I suggest a different position?"

"No. You might run."

"I could easily pin you to the bed and leave."

Perhaps that'd not been the most tactful thing to say. Not when they were on the verge of another cycle. Proven by the swell of sweet musk in the otherwise stale room.

They made no comment on the statement, however. Merely eyeing him thoughtfully as they trailed a finger over their lips. Contemplating their next question.

It wouldn't be so hard if they could just clear their minds. Thoughts scattered and hazy with want. And Gods, did they want. The desire from before rearing a head so ugly it would likely scar children for life. Chest feeling as if it was being stretched open, head and flesh crawling. Heat flushing their skin.

Before they realized, a shrill whine was crawling its way out of their throat.

'Again?'

Rhetorical. Because one time apparently wasn't enough to last them a lifetime.

After a moment, D pressed a hand to their forehead. Following them down as they slowly collapsed against his chest. Their warmth toeing the line between being a comfort and being unbearable. Still, he allowed them to nuzzle and press close. As if trying to burrow into him.

They very well might have considered it.

They wouldn't say that, though.

"D?" Beneath their cheek, his chest rumbled. "Why does talking about our no-no square make you uncomfortable?"

Why indeed?

"It's been months since those men attacked us," they breathed as they touched the scar marring their face. "We rarely think about it anymore, but you told the Sheriff you'd talk to us about it."

He had indeed said he would teach them. But it would be so much simpler if he had graphics. Perhaps the room contained a bit of paper?

He softly nudged their side.

They did not move.

Attempting to forcibly remove them ended in the girls digging their fingers into his flesh.

Now, he released a near silent sigh as he sat up.

They did not move.

He threw his legs off the bed and stood.

Still… they did not move.

Before he could stop it, his left hand rose and pinched the flesh of their ass.

It certainly made them move.

They flailed and lurched off. Squawking and squealing as they gingerly touched the abused skin and cast him an affronted look. 'What the Hell did you let go for?!'

'I didn't expect him to pinch us there!'

'But did it feel bad?'

She refused to answer, instead asking, "What'd you do that for?"

"Certainly got your ass in gear, didn't it?" Hand chortled.

It had.

Didn't mean they weren't prepared to cling to him a second time. Not when the thrum of his slow-beating heart called to them like a Siren in the sea. When his scent drew them like a moth to a flame. Warm and spicy, a soft musk that wrapped about them wherever they went.

Another whimper wrenched itself from them.

They felt weak. Out of control. Like if they didn't have D near, they might combust. Fingers itching to touch.

But D probably didn't want that.

With a loud grunt, they scrubbed their face with their hands and ambled over to the drawer the Hunter was digging through. There were a handful of colorful foil packets that he'd shoved to one side, a pad of paper that'd been removed, and a handful of writing utensils he was currently testing on the paper.

Of course, they were immediately drawn in by the shiny squares. Wondering what the little ring within was. So, they snatched one up. Turning it over in their hands.

It possessed no markings. Merely shined and glimmered in a pleasant way. Begging to be opened.

They ripped it and pressed their fingers in. Finding it wet and greasy as they pulled it out. Gingerly pinching the protruding tip to unroll it. 'It's… a balloon? Why is it greasy?'

'Maybe it's flavored?'

They sniffed and immediately recoiled in disgust. Nose wrinkling, but they still tongued the tip.

It was worse.

'Never mind. Smells like shit, tastes like shit.'

They sat on the edge of the bed and cast a look at the Hunter. Seeing that he had acquired a pencil and was busy sketching and writing across the room. A fact that warmed their hearts.

Why was it, however, that when they pressed the thing to their lips and began blowing, they just knew D might fuss at them?

'Inflates like a balloon.'

For at least a moment.

They expected it to grow long, but it eventually began swelling around the center. Still, they continued inflating. Blowing it up until it was large and milky. Slick in their grasp as they attempted to tie it off.

Honestly, they should have anticipated it slipping from their grip.

Should have known that it would flarp its way across the room with a terrifying amount of accuracy to slap wetly against the Hunter's face. Stretching from his brow, across one eye, to the opposite corner of his mouth.

If all that wasn't enough to make them chuckle, D's surprised expression was certainly enough to have them heehawing like a child. Gasping and wheezing as they tried to explain it'd been too slippery.

He didn't seem too horribly amused, but at least he wasn't upset as he pinched the 'balloon' and carefully peeled it off. Eyes glimmering as he breathed, "Nothing is sacred."

"Should it be?" they laughed. "It's just a balloon. A very… slimy balloon."

He hummed but otherwise said nothing. Slinging the thing back at them with a pointed look at the rubbish bin before continuing his sketching. Which was fair enough. It being so slick was highly impractical for balloon blowing activities.

"So, what are you drawing?" they asked as they tossed it away. Inching over to his chair to investigate.

There was more than one sheet filled with drawings. Detailed things that the girls didn't understand at a glance. And after a time, their eyes were more focused on D's hands than they were on the content. Following the veins that trailed from his knuckles up his arms as they bulged and rolled with his movements.

They wanted those slender hands on them. In their hair.

Anywhere he could touch.

Everywhere he probably shouldn't.

"Girls."

They startled with a pretty flush, ashamed they'd been caught staring. Eyes turning down to the floor.

"All I ask is you try to distract yourselves."

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

They chanced another look at him, seeing that he was still preoccupied with his sketches but now turned towards them.

"I only ask because your scent is… a bit of a distraction."

"Oh."

Silence apart from the scratch of the graphite against the paper.

"Is it good or bad?"

The pencil froze, and D set it down before looking fully at them.

Dare they believe his eyes appeared brighter than typical?

"In what context?"

And why was it now that their mouth ran dry and their fingers trembled?

"Just uh… just smell."

"It doesn't smell bad," he answered immediately. Crossing his legs at the knees as he held their gaze. "It is strong. Saccharine."

"Sucka-what?"

As D huffed out another amused breath (something they were honestly proud of), Erembour interjected, "… it's sweet. And when you're aroused, it's sickeningly so. Makes me want to devour you."

For not the first time that night, their nose scrunched. Their confusion palpable. "Don't follow. You wanna eat us? Like you eat beasts?"

Now, it was the Demon's turn to laugh. "Not exactly." He rounded the bed, a deep rumbling rolling from his grinning maw as he cast them a particularly wolfish look. Cold, writhing tendrils of darkness stretching from his amorphous shadow to curl about their ankles. Calves. Caressing gradually higher. "But I'd happily show you, if you were willing."

They had no time to answer. A noise suddenly filled the air. One the girls had honestly forgotten about, as they'd never expected to hear it again.

Hissing, that interlaced syllabic sounds.

A language that evoked headaches galore and left them feeling as if they'd stuffed their mouth full of dry, bloodstained cloth.

Coming from the Hunter. Eventually the Demon.

For a moment, they thought they understood a bit of what they were saying.

"… not mates…"

"… are you…"

But that was just crazy.

"… can try…"

They could barely think with all the noise assailing their ears.

"… need connection… heat isn't enough to sway…"

It wasn't possible.

"… poor bastard never stood a chance…"

It was stupid.

"Y'all need to quit your bitchin'!" Rhea finally snapped. "Shit's makin' our head hurt somethin' fierce."

Silence descended upon the room. Leaden. The tension well punctuated by the sound of a mug shattering in the bar. And with each second of silence, their headache slowly dissipated. Dwindling into a dull throb just behind their eyes.

It honestly didn't make them feel any better.

"You finish those drawings?"

D looked down at the unfinished paper in his lap before gathering the ones he'd set to one side. "Here. Start with these."

"Thanks."

With their study material in hand, they collapsed upon the bed and dug in.

They'd looked at plenty of sexless graphs of the Human body.

They didn't realize there was so much crap related to gender shoved into one body. And with no small amount of wonder, they poked and prodded at their belly. Trying to feel the bulbous bits that made them (genetically) a female. Unless everyone had them.

"Lower," D said as he put his supplies to one side and came to stand over them, his fingers pressing firmly along the line of their underwear. "Your uterus would fit in the palm of your hand."

"Oh." They moved their hand to his. Still pressing, attempting to feel what he felt. But they couldn't. So, they snapped upwards. Fingers dancing along the line of his breeches as they asked, "Do you have one?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Genetically, most men have different anatomy."

Their eyes suddenly glimmered in fascination, and they stared at him with renewed interest. Fingers pointing at his groin. A temptation to simply cup the area being tamped down as quickly as it arose. "Would you show us?"

"Perhaps another time," he said. "On paper."

"Damn."

But they wouldn't push it. It was his no-no square, and no matter how curious they were, they couldn't force him to parade his no-no bits around for them to study. And they didn't feel comfortable with asking another man to do so.

However, Leonel might let them if they asked nicely.

Their stomach rolled.

Nope.

They couldn't bring themselves to use him like that. Or bring themselves to even fathom getting in a position to ask. Or… just… no.

Gods help them.

Why did they have to feel so utterly disgusted (or nauseated) every time they contemplated being with other people?

It didn't matter.

Shouldn't matter.

If they clicked with someone, shouldn't that be enough?

Apparently not.

Carefully, they leaned into D's delightfully bare belly. Smooth. Firm. Something they very much wanted to feel more of. And the only way to do such a thing would be to do as they'd done earlier.

But they wanted more.

Wanted to stop feeling like D was the source of and the balm for the fire eating them alive.

And there that whine came again. One they quickly stuffed back down their throat because they really didn't want to come off so needy.

Had their first heat been so intense?

They couldn't recall. They'd wanted, asking for head pets as often as they could. But… Had they felt this near out of control desire to strip the Hunter down just to press against his flesh? To cuddle and melt against him, unable to find where they ended and he began?

They were thinking themselves in circles.

Had been for the past couple of hours.

'Just go back to lookin' at the pictures. Maybe that'll preoccupy our minds.'

With a heavy sigh, they pulled away from D and looked back to the papers. At the uterus swollen with life in the following pages that detailed (briefly) the growth of a child and the body's reaction to the changes.

It was certainly… fascinating. Something they studied for a great length of time as the Hunter retreated to the head of the bed. Reclining against the scuffed wood to watch them as they thumbed through everything.

And then… the no-no square…

Their no-no square…

"Specifically our no-no square?"

Without looking up, D replied, "It's certainly not mine."

They weren't sure why, but they appreciated the joke more than usual in that moment. Laughing softly and mind at ease as they asked, "But why specifically ours?"

"To help you understand your body."

"Okay?"

He did not explain more.

Gingerly, they ran their fingers over the markings. Attempting to line up what they'd managed to view with their own two eyes with what they were currently seeing in penciled form. It… wasn't really working as well as they'd hoped.

In fact, they were more stuck on the fact that it looked like alien bits.

"Still looks weird, D."

"I assure you both, your no-no square is fairly typical."

"Does yours look like ours?" A pause. "Wait, by different anatomy, did you mean internally or externally?"

"Both."

Such a succinct answer. It only left them with more questions. However, he'd already told them he'd not be teaching them about his bits tonight. So, the only logical thing to follow up on was what he'd most recently said.

"Fairly typical means something is not."

Silence.

"D?"

Now, the Hunter sighed. Not necessarily exasperated with their relentless rapid-fire questioning, but weary in a way. "Something being atypical does not mean it is wrong. Viewing such a protected and precious area as shredded meat, however, is not the healthiest mindset."

"But even in your drawing, the damn thing looks wrong! Like we've been flayed open!" they complained as they shook the paper.

"That is not the atypical part."

"Then what is?"

"At this time, it does not matter."

This time, it was not a needy whimper that attempted to wrench itself from their throat. It was a frustrated growl. Their grip tight enough to crumple and rip the paper. However, D was sure to smother the animalistic sound with his hand. And all they could think to wonder was when he'd moved.

"Would it upset you if I asked for you to calm yourselves?"

It did.

But only because it made them want to laugh.

It wasn't fair that he could simply diffuse their volatile moods so easily (most of the time).

On the other hand, this did give them more contact with D. Made their skin feel aflame everywhere they touched.

And they certainly hated it. The way their moods were swinging from aggressive to… whatever the fuck all this was. Poor D. He was probably fed up with it.

"No, I'm not 'fed up'," he murmured. "I merely wish for you to understand. And that the people in Puregon had taught you such things."

Yeah. Them too.

Instead, they were left in the dark. Clueless and a burden to their companions.

"Not burdens, either."

Now, they rolled their eyes and sank into the not-embrace embrace.

Or maybe it was.

They had no way of being sure. Not unless they wished to prod the man for his intentions with every action he completed. Which might be amusing for a short time.

Well, they did have one question, and Krista's voice was laughably muted when she started, "Hey, D?"

He breathed out an inquisitive hum as he lowered his hand, and Rhea mentally shouted, 'Don't ask! It's just gonna make us sad!'

But she did. "If we shouldn't love you, why do you treat us like this?"

Why indeed?

His fingers carded through their curls. Teasing them into large, fluffy ringlets. Eventually, into a fizzy mess of hair. Satisfying their desire for pets as he asked himself that very question.

"I'm not sure," he answered after a long time.

"Urgh?" They looked up at him, mouth agape with just the slightest bit of drool dripping from the corner of their lips. Mind taking a moment to rise from the fog of pleasure to register his answer as they noisily slurped the spit back in.

"Oh, attractive."

In a very childish response, they blew a raspberry at him. Snuggling down in his hold just a bit more, tongue continuing to stick out as they contemplated whether or not they wanted to be covered. Perhaps by D, but not by the blanket. They were entirely too warm for that nonsense. "Well, if you're unopposed to it, can we just… start back on the lessons in the morning?"

He nodded. "Of course."

"Cool, man." And down they slunk. Head finding a place in his lap, as if they were some overgrown house cat. Following diligently as he moved back to the headboard.

Perhaps it wasn't the wisest decision. It left them to their thoughts, which was a recipe for disaster at that given moment.

When they were likely to throw caution to the wind and press the flat of their tongue to the nearest available patch of skin.

Just to see what he tasted like.

And there went their bloody minds.

"… not gonna dress?" Erembour asked.

"Not if we can help it," they quipped. "Too hot, and y'all are kinda lucky we're even wearing undies."

They couldn't fault them for that.

It was funny.

Before, he'd actively pressed for them to remain clothed in his presence. As much as possible, at least.

Now, resting in this standard sized bed, D did not fight the girls on their state of dress. Not seeking their nudity, but unbothered by it. For the moment.

How long had it been since a woman bared themselves before him? How many dared to do so? Krista and Rhea certainly weren't the first. Likely wouldn't be the last. Yet, had the other women ever done so, content to simply sleep at his side?

Not that they'd had a chance to do so.

The point remained.

Perhaps, at the end of this very long job, there would be another girl who saw more than a pretty face and a good lay.

Not that he'd ever given a client such a thing…

It'd been an hour since they'd fallen asleep, and during that time, they'd managed to wiggle their way onto their back. He could easily take the time to admire their figure (slight as it may be), yet he was more drawn by the scars. The swath of paler skin that stretched across their sternum and up their forearms.

Despite their ugly origins, they were beautiful in a way.

And why was this the second time he'd wiled away a sleepless night to ponder their flesh and its stories?

"You stare much harder and it might leave a mark."

How long had Rhea been awake?

"Don't worry. I just settled Sis down in the Garden."

"What's on your mind?" he asked after a comfortable silence.

"Better question is 'what isn't'."

Of course. He should have known.

That soft, sweet musk wrapped around them in the quiet that followed. Cloying. And some part of him wanted nothing more than to fulfill their desires. Her desires. Something he ignored (to an extent) as he opted to press his finger to her scalp and begin rubbing.

It was certainly good enough to elicit a quiet moan.

"Are you not tired?"

She snorted. "Nah. I am. Even if this heat thing makes me feel fuckin' wired." And slowly, she twisted about to press her chest to D's. Thankful he did not attempt to stop the movement. Heaving a sigh of relief once she sat astride his thighs with her arms about his torso.

Alone, Krista was too shy to get what she wanted. Too worried about what D might say. Yes, she was tenacious and could charge after all she wanted. But some things, especially where D was concerned, she needed just a bit of a push.

Such as with their impromptu tackle after their shower.

They'd both wanted it, but Rhea was the one who'd pushed their body forward.

Together, they were a force to be reckoned with.

As two separate entities, they would have been fucking dangerous.

Another sigh. "Y'know, we really appreciate you toleratin' us when we get like this." He said nothing in response, merely continuing the soft drag of his fingers through her hair. "And I don't know if it'll help, but we'll keep lookin' for someone else in the towns we pass through."

"If that is your wishes."

"It isn't," she bit out. "That's the last thing we want. In fact, it makes us feel sick just thinking about it."

D said nothing. Leaving the floor open for whatever she wanted to say.

"That boy, Leonel? He asked if he could kiss us, and we almost puked on him."

That was something he did not know.

"Except for with that bitch that drugged us, most people we think about being kissed or touched by make our stomach roll." Rhea huffed out a hot, wavering breath. Tongue briefly passing over her lips as she contemplated things she and Krista had fantasized earlier.

"With you, you are… Gods… We are constantly hungry for you. Like we've never eaten a proper meal before." Now, she pressed a hand over his heart. Staring with a catlike intensity as the organ thumped out a slow rhythm.

"And as unwise as it might be, we probably won't stop lovin' you. We'll still try. But…" She smiled. A slow curving of her lips that looked downright devious. "Don't expect too much."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said. Amused. Understanding. Appreciating her honesty. Thinking he should have thrown on a shirt in anticipation of this clinging. Yet, here he was. Fully capable of pulling the small female off.

Nay, throwing her off.

But he didn't.

Choosing instead to continue the slow massage to her scalp as, outside, the clouds gathered and roiled.

Krista awoke for the second time in the Garden. Disoriented. Fingers digging into the soft soil beneath her as she attempted to calm her racing heart. Ground herself in the now.

Of course, there was nothing to fear.

Not here.

And it'd been such a long time since she'd dreamt of the bathroom attack. And of Bella.

Perhaps their day with Leonel made them think on it too much. Or perhaps it'd been Rhea's talk with D. Something she knew took place based on her location, but also a feeling.

After a long moment of simply breathing, she reached out. Pushing through until her body was in her control and her eyes fluttered open.

Outside, thunder rolled and rattled the windows. Night thick upon the town. And quietly, she groaned. Head throbbing.

But she couldn't complain too much. Not when she was able to squeeze D just the slightest bit tighter. Or… perhaps she could. Because, as good as it was, D's light squeeze back was too much for her overly sensitive skin. Pleasant, yet painful.

"Dafuq? We weren't like that earlier."

"Or last time."

"What's the matter?" asked D.

They pulled back. Shuddering at the sudden absence of his warmth and the way their skin prickled as if asleep. "Dunno. Too sensitive. Painful."

He hummed. The sound deep and…

Gods help us.

The sound evoked a pleasant tingling in them. A gentle throbbing. And…

"D, we're leaking again…"

His fingers dragged along their scalp as he murmured, "It's alright."

"But it's weird and kinda gross," they argued.

"As I said before, it's natural."

They said nothing, but based off the tense line of their shoulders, he could surmise they did not agree with the statement. Body twisting in his hold until they could further this assumption with a small glare. Flushed cheeks puffed out as they eyed him critically.

"We need some fresh air," they muttered after a long while.

"… open the window?" Erembour suggested.

"No. We need to get up and walk around."

"You'll need to dress if you go out!" sang Hand.

And the mere thought absolutely disgusted them.

The point remained, they needed to get out. To get away from the scent of the Hunter.

The touch. The feel.

This want that continued to devour them.

This hunger that urged them to mark up his neck and fill their belly with anything he was willing to give.

Blood.

Water.

Anything.

With a frustrated moan, they shoved themselves off to one side and flopped like a fish against the floor. Groaning as the leakage chilled their undies and inner thighs.

Unnatural.

'He did say that it was excessive.'

Disgusting.

'I dunno. I kinda like it.'

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if…

No.

But if they were feeling this… wet…

Halfway to the bathroom, they froze in their mad dash. Crouched low, slowly spinning about on their heel, they cast their terrified gaze to the man's pants.

Right where they'd perched all night.

At the damp patch that glistened in the low lighting.

They screeched in horror and resumed their mad dash, this time to fetch a washcloth. "Oh Gods! We leaked on you!"

Saying it aloud made Krista want to cry.

Some part of Rhea was satisfied, even if she wasn't sure why.

Together, they were both ashamed, embarrassed.

For D's part, he seemed wholly unbothered. Attempting to assuage their fears, to no avail, with quiet reassurances as he stood from the bed and followed them into the bathroom. Where they fretted and fussed at their own stupidity.

It was only when he reached for the damp rag that the girls snapped at him. Teeth bared as they growled, "No! You shouldn't touch it!"

"It is fine."

"The Hell you say?! That shit's come out of us!" they balked. "It's slimy and weird and we've stained your pants!"

One brow rose. The man clearly unimpressed with their argument.

"Don't look at us like that!"

If anything, the look intensified. And in response, they bickered more. Waving the rag about with each vehement gesticulation until D interrupted their tirade with a singular question.

"Did you shit on me?"

The girls froze. Mouth agape. Unable to form a proper response.

Should they be shocked?

Amazed?

Disgusted?

Amused?

All the above?

Without warning, tears overflowed and peals of laughter jumped from their throat. Painfully loud in the small, tiled room. Because, in the end, they were at war with themselves. Their body. Each other.

This… leakage…

It was natural and nigh uncontrollable.

Yet, they felt like they should be able to.

It was definitely not shit.

Yet, they felt that, in some ways, it was not much better.

And somehow, in much the same fashion as he always managed, the man had successfully derailed their train of thought with an out-of-character remark. Something they should expect, yet it always caught them off guard.

One of the many reasons they adored him, they supposed.

It still did not erase their ambient feelings of shame. Leaving them wanting to crawl into a hole and disappear. But still clean up their mess. And while they stood there, frozen and indecisive, D gently pried their fingers open and took the damp rag.

"Hey!"

"Hush."

Their jaw snapped shut with an audible clack, fingers closing on empty air as he slowly turned them about and ushered them towards the bath.

"Clean up, perhaps you will feel better."

Again, their mouth opened. Wanting to argue and take a moment to clean their mess. However, they weren't given the chance. Not when D was lifting their entire person to deposit them in the ceramic tub.

What they did manage to blurt out without any forethought, however, was, "You wanna join?" And immediately, they were slapping a hand over their mouth. Wide eyes on the ever-stoic man as they slowly reached out with the free hand to slide the curtain closed.

D just stared at the plain linen curtain for a long moment. Lips curling the slightest bit in amusement as the girls shouted, "You didn't hear anything!"

"No," tittered Hand. "Pretty sure we heard–"

"Nothing! We didn't say shit!"

Silence.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Because I am pretty sure you asked for D to join you!"

"No?!"

"Never know, he might like it."

"That's enough," D interrupted as the girls began screeching. "You shouldn't antagonize them."

Another stretch of silence, broken only by the sound of the girls panting and shuffling about in the tub. Likely to remove their underwear. And as D stood there, scrubbing at the mark on his breeches, he felt that familiar urge to tease the girls.

He shouldn't say anything.

He did. "Even if you might not be wrong."

Krista and Rhea froze in their actions. Thinking painfully loudly as they attempted to make sense of what he'd said.

Eventually, the screeching resumed.

"Oh my Gods! Fuck off, D!"

"No! Come join us!"

The curtain rustled. Not opening, but there was certainly a struggle going on behind it.

"Oh, come on, Sis!" Rhea fussed. "We have an opportunity and you're pissin' it away!"

"You can fuck off, too!" Krista snapped back. "What would he even do in the bath with us?!"

"Touch us!" To him, "D! Come touch urgh–"

There was a bit of groaning. A crunch. And the scent of their sweet-and-sour blood filled the air.

"Ow! Don't fuckin' bite our own hand!"

"I'll just leave you two to it," the man interjected.

"No! Touch us!"

But the door clicked shut. Leaving them to their own thoughts and squabbling as he took a deep breath.

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

Past teeth too sharp to be normal.

At least, normal for a Human.

For him, they were just right.

He hated it.

Hated that the blood-starved beast had clawed its way to the surface to suggest that a simple taste wouldn't hurt.

"Damn."

An hour passed before the girls were crying out. A stricken, broken sound that had the Hunter and the Demon at the door in a matter of moments. Asking what the matter was.

"We have no undies in here… and it won't stop." A soft sigh. "We definitely need some air. Or… something. Your smell makes it worse!"

"My apologies," he murmured. Amused, but honestly feeling for them.

So, he quickly gathered their clothes and armor (as useless as it might be). The door opening before he could set them down.

At least the girls were wrapped in a threadbare bath towel. Perhaps to fight off the chill rather than for modesty's sake. However, it was still a moderately welcome sight.

Taking the items from his grasp, they muttered a quick thanks and all thoughts of modesty flew out the window. Towel tossed to the floor. Body once again bared for all to see.

Not that they were bothered.

But God help him.

Why did they still smell of blood?

And why was it now that the damnable beast wanted out?

Pressuring him as if he'd not fed it in a mo…

A month…

It'd not been a month, but it wasn't far off.

The realization was like a punch to the gut. Enough to have his teeth aching as the beast demanded its due.

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

But he could still smell them. Perhaps using his nose wasn't the smartest choice.

In through the mouth.

Out through the mouth.

Their taste lingered on his tongue.

God, if it wasn't one of the biggest temptations he'd been faced with in a century. Their words, their offer, spoken more than once, curling about his mind. Urging him closer.

He did not move. Thinking that he was fucking stupid. Should have paid better attention to his hunger instead of putting it off because he was only a bit peckish.

Rhea and Krista needed to leave.

At least until he could satiate his hunger.

They were dressed. Skin flushed. Breathing just a bit too quickly. Heart thrumming just a bit too loudly in his ears. Taunting him.

"Take a walk, girls."

With a muttered, "We're about to," they strapped on their daggers. Turning to face him once done. "D? Are you okay?"

"Just take your walk, girls."

"D!"

Damn it.

Why was it now that their stubbornness decided to reveal itself? Now, when they needed to–

"Leave."

The single-word hiss left his lips before he even realized he'd made a noise. An ugly show of his Noble half following as his lips pulled back and revealed atrociously sharp canines.

It was something the girls had never witnessed. Not unless one counted the incident in the cave. Even then, that'd been a matter of instinct. This was an entirely different situation altogether. Something he'd not expected to happen.

Their lips parted. No doubt to offer up themselves. But he could not allow them to do such a thing. Not when he was in such a state and he might very well take their offer.

"Now."

Their brows furrowed. Eyes appearing stormy as they eventually breathed out, "Yes, Sir."

It wasn't until the door clicked shut behind them that he finally dared to take another breath. Infinitely grateful they were no longer in the room when the delightfully fresh wave of their arousal and essence still hung in the air.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know which of his actions had evoked such a strong reaction.

Out in the still-dark streets, the girls huffed and patted their chest. Begging their heart to slow its beat as they trekked along the rain-slicked path. Fingers digging into their upper arm as they contemplated their next move.

Briefly, they considered another walk through the orchard. Sure, they saw plenty of trees just traveling through the rainforest. But there was something distinctly different about walking through trees planted with a purpose. With their neat rows and vibrant fruits.

They ultimately decided against it.

Gods forbid they run into Leonel after basically saying goodbye. Forever.

"Hurgh!"

They scrubbed at their face and drifted through the town. Taking in the scenery and architecture of the homes and businesses. Trying to appear as guileless as possible under the critical eyes of the nightly guard.

There really was a charm to it.

But despite everything around them to occupy their minds, they still wanted the Hunter. Wanted to be able to give him whatever he needed.

As dark as it was, they wanted to feel that bite. Wanted him to mark their flesh as they wished to his.

Most importantly, they did not want him to be distressed. He'd shooed them away, however, and they'd decided it was best left alone. At least, for the moment.

Rain dripped from the hood of their cloak as they continued. Traversing along the docks that bobbed and weaved in the storm-stirred waters. Lightning occasionally crawling across the sky.

It was nice. And perhaps they shouldn't be standing out in the open, but they cared more about getting the man off their mind.

"Krista Rhea!"

They startled. Blundering about on the slick planks before they could turn to face the last person they wished to see. The very same they'd thought of only a few minutes prior.

"Leonel?"

The man trotted up. His raincoat already slick. And he shot them that charming grin that was sure to move every mountain but theirs. "I saw you wandering about. Thought I'd join you."

They looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Why are you up?"

"I told you! I work the docks in the evenings and the orchard in the mornings! Catching me awake at this time is a pretty common occurrence."

"Ah." Their skin rippled. A sense of agitation sweeping over them even if they couldn't immediately place why. "Still, you were up all day with us?"

A shrug. "You get into a sleeping pattern and your body strives to stick to it. Despite what you try."

They couldn't argue that.

"You seem on edge."

They snorted. "That's an understatement."

"Then let's walk!" he chirped. "Or you can follow me home for a bit? I'll make you tea? Or coffee?"

Surprisingly, the idea wasn't bad. In fact, it was an idea that they were willing to take him up on. "Sure," they breathed. "Coffee sounds nice."

He led them back to a dry-docked home. Quaint. Perhaps a little too small for his dreams of a family, but there was no saying he couldn't expand. For now, it was perfect.

"You can sit here, if you like."

It was a small, wicker loveseat padded with cushy cushions that they were liable to melt into. So they happily sank into it as Leonel discarded his coat and skittered into the adjoining kitchen.

Their skin was still a tad too sensitive. However, the longer they went without the Hunter's scent to suffocate them, the more it seemed to taper off. Because Leonel was genuinely a sweet man, but they still felt no pull towards him.

They took a deep breath.

His scent was pleasant, but only about as pleasant as freshly cut grass. It wasn't something they wanted to put in their mouth and devour.

Another sniff.

The coffee was percolating.

From his spot in the kitchen, Leonel called, "So, no sugar. Do you want cream?"

"Just a bit."

"Got it."

There was a moment of silence, where all that filled the quiet was the sound of rain against the roof and the gurgle of the pot.

Then… a crash. Glass shattering.

They were immediately across the room, looking over the darker man as he stared in shock at the mug handle still grasped in his fist. "Are you okay, Leonel?"

"Yes," he huffed. Shaking his shoulders out before smiling uncertainly at them. "Didn't realize the handle to the mug was weak. Lucky there wasn't any coffee in it yet, right?"

"Right." They bent down to assist him with the cleaning before being waved off with a gentle hand.

"Go. You're the guest. I am more than capable of cleaning up this mess."

"If… you insist."

Again, that disarming smile spread across his face as he dropped the handle into the bin. "I do. Now, please. Make yourself at home. I'll bring out your coffee in just a moment."

So, they sat. Taking in as much as they could of the home while they listened.

It was sparsely decorated. A few pictures of older people lining the walls. A shelf of worn books that'd been read and reread. Bound back together and read some more. A few bits and bobbles.

It was homey.

"Do you like mint?"

"Some. But too much upsets our stomach."

"Do you think you'd like it in coffee?"

It was interesting. And they were willing.

Maybe it would serve as another distraction.

"We'll certainly try it."

A moment later, he was bringing out the aromatic mugs. Carefully passing over a half-full one. "Just in case you don't like it."

"Thank you."

First things first.

They took a deep breath through their nose. Letting the smells momentarily overpower all else.

Coffee…

Cream…

Mint…

That was all.

They pressed the mug to their lips and tasted it.

Coffee…

Cream…

Mint…

The girls huffed out a sigh of relief. Eyes pinched with joy.

They didn't want to be wary of every cup just because of one bad apple. They wanted to be able to enjoy drinks they didn't personally pour.

They wanted to trust Leonel. If nothing else, just as a friend.

Besides, the drink combination was surprisingly pleasant.

In a strange way.

Before they realized, the mug was drained. And they were so unbelievably happy. Heart feeling full in a way they'd not expected.

"Thank you, Leonel. You don't know how much we needed this."

And he said something.

Something they weren't sure of with how quietly he'd spoken.

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing of much import." His eyes flickered before he said, "Just that I need to grow up."

"Why?"

"Because you have already stated you are not interested, yet here I am."

Oh.

Well, they couldn't really disagree. But they could feel sorry for him. "We really did appreciate the coffee. And we're sorry that… we can't be more."

"Don't be." And there came that winning smile of his.

They smiled back, even as their stomach cramped and twisted itself into knots.

Spiraling down into little worms that slithered and snaked their ways across the floor.

The floor was disco rice.

Pulsating and squirming about.

How long had it been since they drank the coffee?

They hadn't tasted anything.

Was it the mint?

Bile flooded their mouth.

They swallowed it down. Chancing a glance at their host.

It wasn't Leonel.

It was and was not.

An overlay of fiery auras smiled at them. Wide. Triumphant.

The body looked stricken. Pained. And quietly, they could hear him. Hear what he'd tried to say before.

Throw up.

The muscles in their belly tightened. Quivering under the strain.

But nothing happened.

Perhaps if it'd been something solid. Not something their body was so quick to digest.

Instead, as they sat there, trying to not reveal anything was amiss, they watched the floors and walls undulate. Taking slow, deep breaths to calm their racing heart.

Gods, they didn't want to feel helpless again!

They couldn't!

Down their tongue went as they attempted to trigger a gag. Mouth closed.

But nothing happened!

They needed to leave!

Slowly, they pushed themselves upward. Willing the room to cease its silly spinning. For the moment, they were stable.

"Thagbph."

Their mouth snapped shut. Eyes watering.

Fuck, they couldn't even work their own mouth.

"Thaph– "

They grimaced, eyes overflowing freely.

It wasn't fair.

They pushed away from the couch. Lurching into the nearby wall with a soft grunt. Limbs feeling leaden.

Even holding up their head felt like a chore.

Fuck!

"Little spark, so naïve."

The not-Leonel was speaking.

The bastard.

"You've managed to keep me out. But I've still managed to find your weakness."

The panic they'd pushed back surged forth. Urging their legs to move despite their weight.

"Such a strong dose was given to you, little spark. Perhaps the new Doctor needs to better his formula for when you arrive home."

They were moving before they could think better of it, rushing for the door. And as they should have expected, their body (the uncooperative piece of shit) collapsed. Head cracking against the doorframe. Black spots dotting their vision.

That ugly, helpless feeling swelled in their throat.

"D!"

In their mind, the wail was loud enough to rattle the rafters.

But no one outside that unassuming home heard their cries.