Designs of Conscience

Nox/Kurando. NC-17. ~6400 words.
Yuri feels a little crazy talking to it. All right, a lot crazy. He knows he’s fucked up.

Yuri wakes up wanting a beer.

Tomorrow, it’ll be back to Japan, but at least this time the trip’ll be — hopefully — painless. If Anastasia gets anywhere near the controls, he’s going to tie her to the nose as a hood ornament. Or worse, to Joachim.

He glances at the little clock on the wall — just a little past midnight — and figures there’s a pub still open somewhere. It’s England, after all, and Southampton’s crammed to the ramparts with unemployed miners and parched sailors. Flinging his legs over the side of the bed, Yuri rolls to his feet. He pats down his pockets looking for some cash.

Blanca’s gone again, the ungrateful mutt probably off doing some wolfish thing in the forest outside town. Kurando’s curled up on the other bed, arms clamped around a pillow, sword all of two inches from his fingertips. Nice mixture of cute innocent and homicidal maniac. Anastasia’s squeal would shatter eardrums for miles if she saw it.

Yuri slips into the dim hallway, eases the door shut. The little inn is quiet except for the occasional grunt and huff of sleep. The others had taken the rest of the rooms on this floor, girls packed into the one next door, Gepetto and Joachim in the one by the stairs. Hard to tell who got the worst deal there: Gepetto, stuck with the snoring lug, or Joachim, stuck with the creepy puppet.

Too bad the bar downstairs closed up when the owner went to bed. At least then he could have gotten shitfaced without worrying about waking up in a garbage heap.

Outside, the streets are empty, the sky’s clear, and the moon shines brightly. It makes for a pretty good walk, but the bad thing about walking is that it gives him time to think. Thinking right now isn’t high on his list of fun. So he picks up the pace, finds a seedy little pub in record time, and gets down to the serious business of drinking himself stupid.

The barkeep doesn’t make conversation, and the few other guys keep to themselves, heads down. One has a black beard, a crooked nose and an eyepatch that screams villain. Yuri squints over the rim of his mug. He might have beaten that guy up before, but it’s just a little too hard to tell when the room decided to spin around like that. He grabs the table to keep it from slipping away, and frowns at a little puddle of froth.

Quietly, just behind his shoulder, someone murmurs, You can’t drink her away.

“Huh?” Yuri’s gaze snaps up too fast, makes it feel like his head’s going to roll off his shoulders. “What?” he mumbles, twists around, and doesn’t see anyone but Mr. Villain sucking back beer. “…eh?”

Alice. The voice is a hiss now, right in front of him.

“Hey!” Yuri surges to his feet, bangs his knee on the table and drops straight back into the seat. “Fuck. Ow. Hey — who the hell are you? Where the hell are you?”

A few years ago, it might have been really strange talking to a disembodied voice. Now, it’s just annoying. A real pisser. His fists clench.

You shouldn’t have tried, it says, words sibilant, sliding hot against his neck. Yuri jerks away, but it just keeps going, whispering in his ear, Her soul isn’t enough for you. You want her body.

“Shut up!” Yuri’s on his feet and doesn’t remember standing, his drink spilled across the table, dripping to the floor. “Shut up!” The bartender stares, chairs scrape wood. Someone shouts but he can’t hear it over the roaring in his ears. “Just shut up!”

The room tilts sideways, shivers. Blackness cuts across his vision and turns everything grey. Something jerks him back, wrenching the entire world out of place. For the space of a heartbeat he can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t think. Then he’s stumbling forward, falling to his knees on hard, unforgiving stone and gulping down air.

A few moments go by and nothing else happens, so Yuri climbs to his feet. Of course it’s the graveyard, but getting here’s never been like that before. Maybe he just never noticed, lucky enough to pass out before it got to the scary part, but it doesn’t feel right. It feels restless, like it’s been waiting for him.

“Jeanne?” Yuri calls, brushing off his knees. Taking a glance around, he sees a couple doors like the ones leading to the altars, but they’re nothing but solid, blank stone. “Yo, Jeanne! You in here?”

“She’s not,” that same voice says, and it’s clearer now, stronger. More like a purr from a snake, if snakes could purr. “Only us.”

Claws form in front of Yuri’s face, a sharp blade-like ridge following. He steps out of reach, keeps backing up, and it’s like it just slides out of a slice in the air: silver hair falling into pure black eyes, a slow smile that bares teeth like fangs.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Yuri stops moving and stares. “What the hell?”

“Hello, Yuri,” Nox says, and sounds happy to see him. That’d be nice, if it quit looking at him the way a starving man looks at a thick, juicy steak.

“Yeah. Hi.” Yuri lifts a hand in a tiny wave. “Have we got something we’re supposed to do?” he asks, and feels a little crazy talking to it. All right, a lot crazy. He knows he’s fucked up, and that’s okay, he can deal with that, but every single time of these things shows up, he gets kicked around. It gets old after a while. “Or something?”

It tilts its head to the side, watches him. “Or something. I wanted to see how you’ve changed.” It moves like air is water, its steps smooth and lazy and deliberate as it walks closer.

Yuri lets out a little chuckle and scratches the back of his neck. “Changed. Yeah. Well, here I am,” he says, and spreads his arms, would add in a little twirl if it would just quit watching him like that. “Same old, same old. Glad we had this chance to catch up. See you later!”

Nox doesn’t say anything, just watches him shove at one of the doors. Yuri hadn’t really thought it’d open, but he gives it a kick just for spite. “Shit,” he says, and then, “Shit,” when fingers like talons touch cold and hard against the side of his neck.

Yuri turns around, and he’s got just enough space to slide into a fighting stance, fists raised between them. “All right,” he says. “Are we going at it? What are you, bored?” He stops, thinks about that instead of how freaky it is to be face to face with Nox. “You’re bored.

Nox gives him a familiar one-shoulder shrug. “A little.”

It makes as much sense as these things ever do. He hasn’t been calling up much of anything other than Amon for the past few months, since Amon’s one scary son of a bitch and gets the job done. But the idea of a bunch of antsy elemental incarnations rooting around in his soul just doesn’t sound so hot.

At least he’s not drunk anymore. Just crazy.

“Okay,” Yuri says, shrugs back, and lets fly.

It steps right into the punch, screws up the angle so Yuri’s fist grazes its jaw. Nox catches his other fist in one clawed hand, presses closer. It’s one long, solid line of heat, all hard angles and sharp edges. Yuri’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull when it grinds against him. A quick flash of bone-white teeth, and it’s like being hit by a fucking bus when Nox nails him in the gut.

Yuri doesn’t have enough room to double over, can’t even clutch at his stomach with Nox plastered to him. “You cheated, ” he wheezes.

“There are rules?” Nox asks, switching its grip. Clawed thumb sliding into his sleeve, it nudges Yuri’s glove aside just enough to lightly scratch the thin skin of his wrist.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Yuri jerks his arm back, furiously trying to shake its hand free. “I’m not–” Words gurgle in his throat as Nox’s teeth scrape his neck, a touch of soft lips and wet heat. Its tongue against his skin doesn’t feel normal.

Yuri grabs a fistful of hair and tugs hard enough to get its attention. Dark eyes flare, but Yuri’s got enough room to jam fingers into its throat and get the satisfaction of hearing Nox choke. One good crack to its jaw has it stumbling back and Yuri shoves away from the sealed door, lands a solid kick to its side before putting a bit of distance between them.

“You’re fucking horny, too? You’re a bunch of soul fragments!” Yuri shouts, really having to work to keep from flinging his arms around in frustration. “Or something. Besides, souls don’t… you know.” Even thinking about it hurts.

Nox presses the back of a hand to its split lip, and even its blood isn’t right, shimmering like a heat wave. It looks amused, or maybe a little annoyed. Either way, Yuri’s fine as long as it stays over there. Unless they’re going to scrap. A good fight’s starting to sound better and better.

“Really. So you feel no surge of triumph when Karyl rides you,” Nox murmurs, and Yuri grits his teeth. “No overwhelming sense of good with Radeus,” it says, hissing the name, “inside you.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. That’s different,” Yuri says, and it sounds pathetic even to him.

“Different,” Nox repeats, and it stalks close again, pacing like Blanca when he’s hungry for fresh meat. “And when you’re mine? The desire to possess, to destroy, that eats at you?” It smiles again, and Yuri’s gut clenches like its words are pure need shoved down his throat. “That’s nothing, is it.”

Yuri realises he’s slipped out of his stance and gives himself a shake, trying to get a grip. Something’s crawling under his skin, the electric thrill of fusion, coiling tighter with no release. “That’s you, not me,” he says, struggling to draw breath.

“Lust,” it whispers. “Blood spilling hot across your hands. A soft body writhing on your dick.” Nox’s smile grows, and it’s still his own face that Yuri’s looking at, but there’s nothing human left. “I am you.”

With a strangled shout, Yuri digs the heel of his hand into his temple. His head’s buzzing, white noise screaming in his ears, heart slamming blood through his veins. The cool graveyard air burns his lungs. Yuri groans and Nox catches him before he hits the ground, pins him to its chest with an arm over his shoulder and the other clamped tight around his waist.

“Stop fighting it,” Nox hisses. Claws shred his clothes, slash fine lines of pain across his belly, his thighs. Its mouth is a brand on the back of his neck.

Raw lust is on the tip of his tongue, waiting for him to swallow and let Nox have him. Yuri struggles, spits the copper tang of blood from his mouth. Let Nox have him. Like hell he’d be a little bitch for this thing, ass up and face down.

He twists and it lets out a hissing moan, jerking him back. Its cock is pressed firm to the crack of his ass, all hard, grinding heat. Yuri’s stomach bottoms out. He wrenches an elbow free, slams it into its jaw. It shakes its head, snarls like an animal, teeth bared and snapping at Yuri’s throat. Another solid crack sends blood spattering against his skin, blistering hot. Brutal claws slash at him, rip a good chunk of his pants away, and Yuri screams as they dig into his thigh. He manages another solid hit that snaps Nox’s head back before his leg gives out and he hits the ground.

“Christ, boy!” someone wheezes. Thin, skeletal hands grab him by the shoulders and shake. “You having a fit?”

Yuri’s eyes snap open. The room spins. Mr. Villain stares down at him, single eye wide with concern. Suddenly he looks a lot less like a bad guy and more like someone’s grandpa.

“Yeah,” Yuri says, shaking his head and grinning when it clears right away. “I mean, no. Hell. I’m alright, old timer.”

Mr. Ex-Villain doesn’t look convinced but he backs off. Yuri braces a hand on the hardwood to push himself up, but someone else looms into view, scowling.

“Hey,” Yuri says, and then, “Hey!” when the barkeep seizes him by the front of his shirt, hauls him to his feet and then up a little more, toes straining to touch ground.

“Good,” the barkeep says, sizing him up, “You’re not dead,” and chucks him out into the street.

Yuri stumbles but stays on his feet, swinging around just in time to see the door bang shut. “Son of a bitch!”

Someone kicks the door, a warning for him to shut up and move on. Yuri glares and gives the wooden planks a solid kick in response. He mutters, “Could at least give me my beer,” and trudges off before someone calls the guard.

“Thanks a lot, Nox,” he says a few minutes later, leaning against a soot-smudged wall and waiting for the hissing response.

There’s nothing but the skitter of rats in the stinking alley.

“Yeah, now you shut up. Prick.”

Yuri gives Nox about five minutes to put in another appearance, and when it doesn’t, he figures it’s time to head back to the hotel. His plans for the night are pretty well ruined. Finding another pub and getting started all over again just sounds like too much trouble.

The inn’s still dark, and lucky for him, the door’s still unlatched. Might’ve been a little troublesome if the owner had woken up for a midnight snack. He closes the door quietly and slides the bolts home.

Upstairs, he carefully eases open the door to his room, hoping he won’t end up with his face skewered on Kurando’s sword. The kid’s a little too quick with that thing. But he’s right where Yuri left him, though the pillow’s been tossed aside and he’s sprawled out under the sheets, arm flung above his head.

Dizziness slams Yuri like a kick to the head. The room wavers, endless black and rough grey stone cutting across his vision. The graveyard hovers over everything like a mist.

The boy, Nox whispers. The stone starts to solidify, blanking out the warm light of a flickering lamp as the air turns cool. The boy will do.

Yuri shakes it off with a snarl. “No fucking way,” he says, fist striking the wooden door behind him in frustration. “You just shut the hell up.”

Kurando wakes, shrugging off sleep and reaching half-blind for his sword. Nox is already crawling under Yuri’s skin, first a tingling build of energy, the ache of something forming inside him, then the sharp, gut-clenching pain of it trying to tear loose.

“Fuck.” Yuri hits the floor on his hands and knees, doubled-over with the effort of holding Nox back. He tastes sweat on his lips. “In your dreams.”

You owe me, it hisses, and he can feel claws rake down his spine. I’ll have the boy without the goddess riding him.

Kurando says something, already on his feet and moving closer. The sword’s still on the bed, abandoned. Yuri groans again, shuddering, skin stretched too tight. He can’t get a warning out, words jammed in his throat, and then it’s too late. Nox rips free, Yuri’s tortured cry turning instantly to a triumphant, eager hiss.

“Yuri,” Kurando says, dropping to his knees. He puts a hand to Nox’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Nox lifts its head, nostrils flaring as it scents fear under Kurando’s concern. “Nox,” it hisses. “I am Nox.”

“Yes,” Kurando says, his unease briefly flickering to the surface. “I remember.”

What the fuck are you doing, Yuri screams, wanting to beat his fists on the floor, but his arms won’t move.

Yuri feels his — Nox’s — lips curve. He’s the one trapped inside, it thinks, the one who’ll choke on his want until Nox is satisfied. Let the human suffer for once, forced to succumb to desires not his own.

“Why are you here, Nox?” Kurando asks. He searches its face, eyes falling on the razor-edged teeth Yuri can still feel sinking into his flesh.

Nox lifts its hand, claws skimming the sharp angle of Kurando’s cheek. His eyes widen but he doesn’t flinch, and he doesn’t back away.

Fuck! You son of a bitch! Yuri fights to get free, ripping and tearing at the invisible bonds just as Nox did. Releasing the fusion is easiest when he’s calm, but he can’t get ahold of himself, not like this. Not when he knows what Nox is thinking, when he feels its delight at imagining how Kurando will writhe. Not with the way Nox infects him, buries him alive in its want.

Kurando’s expression turns curious right before Nox curls its claws into a rough fist. His head snaps back, surprise flashing across his face for a split second. He scrambles to his feet but it’s too late again. Nox already has him by the arm, twisting it hard behind his back. It shoves him down face-first and holds him there.

He struggles at first but quickly calms. Yuri recognises the set of his shoulders, knows he’s going to call Tsukiyomi. And because Yuri knows it, so does Nox.

“I enjoyed the goddess,” it murmurs, switching its grip to the back of Kurando’s neck. It wrenches his head to the side leans closer, black snake’s tongue flicking out to taste flesh.

Yuri shudders. The salt of sweat floods his mouth, tinged with a half dozen other things: faint taste of firewood smoke, lingering tang of soap, a tease of blood flowing just under the surface of smooth, delicate skin, the intoxicating scent of confusion and fear.

Nox makes a sound like a moan. “Call her and you’ll die,” it says, ignoring Yuri’s outraged snarl. “This is no sparring match.”

“She was right,” Kurando says, still twisting to get free. Nox jerks on his trapped arm and he lets out a clipped grunt. “You have no honour.”

“What use would I have for it?” Nox counters. “It’s pointless. Something to force the strong to be slaves for the weak.” Yuri can feel its disgust sliding bitter and thick as tar down his throat.

“What do you want?” Kurando asks, struggling to draw in air with Nox’s weight pinning him to the floor. Nox thinks his lungs must burn with the effort. How sweet it would be to drink down those frantic breaths.

“To spread you wide,” it purrs, claws following the smooth line of Kurando’s neck. “To bury myself in this lithe body and listen to your screams.”

Yuri feels the shuddering jerk of Kurando’s heart. The air reeks of dread, stomach-twisting fear, something else that smells too much like what Nox wants. It’s enough to let him tear free and shove Nox aside. It snarls, claws poised to rip Kurando’s side wide open, feel the hot, wet clutch of the boy’s body that way if Yuri won’t give it what it wants.

Yuri’s arm shakes. Five points of dark red blood well up beneath his claws. His claws. It’s his body again, still wearing Nox’s form.

Kurando lies still under him, breath caught and held, waiting.

“What the hell are you doing?” Yuri says, voice hovering somewhere between Nox’s greedy hiss and his own. “Fight back.”

Instead of just doing what Yuri says for once, Kurando asks, “What’s going on? What happened to you?”

“I don’t know,” Yuri lies. He’s got a pretty damn good idea what’s going on, but it’ll just take too long to explain. “Just get out. Wake up everyone.”

Kurando swallows a hard breath. “Let me up.”

“Can’t,” Yuri hisses. His fingers flex, clawtips digging a fraction deeper. Pain ripples through the confusion shining bright in Kurando’s eyes. Nox revels in the electric thrill of fresh blood, the way he shivers but doesn’t struggle. “Have to fight me.”

Kurando’s tongue flicks over his lips, just a quick flash of soft pink. Nox slams Yuri with images of that tongue sliding wet down his — its, its — cock, of lips flushed thick and red and glistening. Gritting his teeth, Yuri tries to stomp down the hard coil of lust winding tight in his stomach.

Stop fighting me, Nox purrs. The images keep coming, more and more detailed. The arch of Kurando’s spine as Nox fucks him, slim body trembling. The sharp angle of his hips. Soft curve of his ass, tight clutch of his hole, a teasing glimpse of pink, delicate flesh.

Think of the sounds he’ll make for you, Nox presses, showing Yuri the way Kurando’s mouth will fall open, how dazed eyes will squeeze shut as claws rake lines of deep red over smooth skin. He’ll writhe for you.

“No,” Yuri groans, grabbing desperately for the revulsion he should feel. His cock aches for something he doesn’t want. He can smell the promise of sex on the heavy air, taste it sliding sweet across his tongue.

Before Yuri can tell him no, not now, Kurando gathers himself, finally getting ready to fling Yuri off. Nox easily snaps the thin line of Yuri’s control and swallows him whole, another animal snarl echoing loud in the small room.

“Yes,” Nox hisses, shredding the light robe stretched tight across Kurando’s shoulders. “Fight me if you want. Bring out the goddess.” It cups the back of Kurando’s head in one clawed hand, leaning down to brush a mocking kiss over his ear. “Will you go so far as to kill the human to stop me? I’ll have what I want, or you’ll have his death on your hands.”

Kurando goes still again. “You won’t exist if Yuri dies.”

Nox laughs, a low, reptilian hiss of pleasure, and jerks at the torn ribbons of Kurando’s robe. He shivers as cool air rushes over soft skin, then again as Nox scrapes its teeth over the jut of his shoulder blade.

“Do you think she exists because of you?” it asks, and grips Kurando’s wrist tight, wrenching his arm above his head to stretch the boy out in a beautiful line. “We don’t need these human bodies.” Nox takes hold of his other hand and brings it to his mouth, holds it there. Short, furious breaths curl warm over its skin. “But we enjoy using them.”

It licks at the pads of the boy’s fingers, dips its tongue between drying lips to taste him. Kurando closes his eyes and lets it do what it wants, body loose and muscles lax.

“Yuri wants to know why you don’t fight this,” it says, and bites at Kurando’s mouth. When the boy shudders, tries to turn his face away, it bites again. “The human doesn’t want to die, not yet, and still, he doesn’t understand why you don’t fight.”

Kurando doesn’t answer, just like it expected. It slides off his back, switches its grip to his head to urge him up to his knees, turn him around to face it. “What pretty little words did she whisper to you while I fucked her, Kurando? How often have you felt the echo of her riding my cock?”

Nox traces Kurando’s parted lips with a claw before jerking its pants open. “Did she tell you how different it would feel in your own body?” It lifts its cock free and hisses in delight as the boy’s eyes widen. “Promise the ache of my cock stretching you open would be sweeter than anything you’ve ever felt?”

Kurando doesn’t go easy when Nox pushes his face close to its dick, but doesn’t fight like he should. Nox settles back on its heels to watch the boy’s half-hearted struggles. They don’t last. “I’ll fuck you dry if you want,” it says. “It makes no difference to me how loud you scream.”

Kurando stays quiet, as if it’s easier for him to stick his tongue out and lick at the thick, dark flesh Nox holds to his mouth as long as he doesn’t say anything. Nox strokes soft hair away from Kurando’s eyes and gives another moaning hiss of pleasure. The boy hesitates, shoulders tensing, whenever its grip tightens too close to pain, like he’s expecting Nox’s touch to turn cruel.

Nox eases off and he grows steadily bolder, tentative little flicks of his tongue turning to wide, flat swipes over the flushed head of its dick. Resistance is gone when Nox grips him by the chin, pulls him forward to take it into his mouth. Kurando’s eyes are closed as he holds Nox on his tongue, and he doesn’t try to hide the fine trembling rippling through his muscles. Nox can smell the boy getting harder, precome gathering thick at the tip of his cock. It drinks the scent down, uses it to feed its own lust.

A quiet groan slips free of Kurando’s throat as Nox pushes. Nox bares its teeth in a vicious, self-satisfied smile and lightly touches the hollowed line of his cheek. Just that token encouragement is all it takes for the boy to suck it deeper, spit-slick lips clamping firm around its cock. He’s not practiced but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s barely managing to hide what feels like eagerness behind a thin veneer of reluctance.

“This is why you gave her to me so easily,” Nox whispers, watching itself fuck the boy’s willing mouth. It pushes too far too fast and Kurando chokes, but it doesn’t stop and Kurando doesn’t jerk away. His nostrils flare as he sucks in a few quick breaths and he lifts a hand, rests it on Nox’s thigh, fingers flexing like he wants to clutch tight.

Nox pulls Kurando off its cock, forces dazed eyes to focus on its face. His lips are flushed, shining wet, a temptation that Nox has no interest in resisting. It kisses him, snake’s tongue winding into his mouth to taste itself. Kurando shudders again, responding just enough to confirm what Nox already knows.

Nox releases him and Kurando doesn’t move, the tatters of his sleeping robe barely clinging to him. He lets Nox tear the flimsy bits of cloth away, rubs a hand over his mouth as it pushes him to his back. When Nox brings his own hand up to his lips, Kurando still says nothing, merely opens his mouth like it wants him to and licks his fingers wet.

“That’s it,” Nox says, nerves thrumming with anticipation. It bends over him, licking at his fingers and then his mouth. It takes another kiss, harder, greedier, and guides Kurando’s hand between his legs, letting go when the heat of the boy’s dick brushes its wrist. “You know what I want.”

It gives Kurando’s cock one firm tug just to watch the boy’s eyes cloud. Under it, Kurando tenses, tingeing the sex-thick air with apprehension. Nox licks at his throat, deadly teeth scraping gently at his collarbone. It covers Kurando’s slim fingers with its claws and makes the boy rub cooling saliva over his hole.

“Inside you,” Nox hisses, pushing when Kurando hesitates again. Its patience wears thin quickly, pure lust eating away at any notion of making it easy for the boy. “Fuck yourself with your fingers. Open up for me.”

It hisses again as Kurando shoves two fingers inside himself, dark eyelashes fluttering against flushed cheeks. The boy groans but still isn’t moving fast enough, so Nox takes hold of his hand to fuck him open with his own fingers.

Nox bites at Kurando’s chest, brings his breath in a ragged moan. Kurando’s cock swells in its hand, blood throbbing to the tripping beat of his heart. His gaze is fixed on Nox’s face, blinking his eyes back into focus after every other breath. He’s opening easily to his fingers, and Nox almost regrets the choice not to make the boy bleed — it wants to feel his slim body clutching desperately at him, wracked with equal parts of dizzying pleasure and gut-twisting pain.

It can bide its time, though. The boy will be more eager the next time if this one is right.

“You want to see this face, don’t you,” Nox whispers, clutching Kurando’s thigh in one hand, pushing his knee up and wide. Its cock settles against his hole, sensitive flesh twitching. Kurando’s breaths stutter as it pushes, teeth clenching when it’s too much, tendons of his neck straining tight. Nox doesn’t stop. “Moan his name for me, Kurando. Scream it.”

One hard thrust has it buried deep, Kurando’s spine arched and mouth open on a wordless cry as it does. He drops back to the floor, chest rising and falling with hard, gulping breaths. Nox doesn’t wait for him to calm, driven by the burning need for its own pleasure.

Nox licks the line of sweat from Kurando’s upper lip, dips its head to taste the hollow of his throat. Kurando’s body clutches at its cock, soft flesh clinging to it as Nox draws back, thrusts deep again. The boy isn’t trying to hold back the sounds echoing low in his throat, or to stop the way his hips rock up to meet Nox. It’s delicious, how easily he gives up his body for Nox to enjoy.

Nox grips Kurando’s sides, sits back on its heels again to drag him halfway into its lap. His knees fall wide, eyes flashing open seconds later when he realises what he’s done. Nox bares its teeth in another smile, shoves his legs open again as he tries to close them.

“No,” it says, bending down to let saliva drip from its mouth to where Kurando’s body is stretched tight around it. The boy jerks like it burns, stomach muscles quivering. “You wanted this. You’ll take it this way.”

Kurando flings an arm over his eyes, his answer nothing more than another gasping breath. His fingernails claw at the floorboards, knuckles gone white as Nox fucks him with slow, lazy thrusts. Kurando’s skin glistens in the lamplight, warm and inviting, and Nox drags the points of its claws diagonally over his stomach just to feel it flutter.

“It isn’t enough, is it,” Nox says, dropping down over him and pulling his arm away. It pushes Kurando’s knee closer to his chest, turns to lick at the curve of his underarm as it picks up the pace, looking for its own release while denying the boy his. “You can almost taste it,” it says, and flicks its tongue between Kurando’s lips again.

Kurando gives it a steady stream of hissing breaths broken by groans muffled behind clenched teeth. Nox can feel him straining for it, slim body twisting under its own. It grips Kurando’s ass to feel the hard slap of flesh into flesh, digs its claws in to make the boy writhe. Kurando clamps down on its cock, shuddering ripples of muscle that bring Nox to the edge and drag it over.

Nox latches onto the crook Kurando’s neck, teeth sunk deep to hold on tight. It keeps going, fucking him the whole way through its own orgasm, and slows only after the flesh clutching at its cock is completely slicked with come.

It lifts its head, licking the copper tang of blood from its teeth. Kurando’s eyes are wide, cock still pressed hard against Nox’s stomach. When it gives him one slow, lazy thrust, Kurando’s breath skips again.

“You want to come,” it murmurs.

Kurando rubs the back of his hand over his mouth, licks his lips to rewet them. Nox thrusts again, driving a low groan out of the pit of Kurando’s stomach. Once more and Kurando nods, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Up on your knees,” Nox says, withdrawing. Kurando shakes, its cock dragging torturously slow over nerves rubbed raw, but he rolls onto his belly, pushes himself up to his hands and knees.

Nox splays a hand between his shoulders. “Ass high,” it whispers, adding just enough pressure to press Kurando’s chest back to the floor. “Spread your legs. Let me see you.”

Kurando makes a sound that could be protest, except he does what Nox says, face hidden in the crook of his arm. It hisses in appreciation, and Kurando shivers, moaning quietly when it licks at the base of his spine.

Nox licks it teeth again, enjoying the moment of anticipation. The boy jumps as its breath ghosts over his hole, and when its tongue slides easily inside him, Kurando lets out a moan full of shock and disbelief. It holds his hips still, draws its tongue back and thrusts deep again, deeper than any human could manage.

Nox laps hungrily at the taste of his own come and the boy, revelling in that as much as the ragged sounds that accompany Kurando’s trembling beneath his hands. Kurando moans louder, rocking back into it, half-formed words mingling with the noise of pure pleasure.

The salt of sweat and come mixes with the lingering taste of blood in his mouth. The thick smell of cock hangs on the humid air. Kurando’s close, so close he lets out a sound that’s almost a whimper when Yuri’s eyes snap open.

“Don’t,” Kurando groans, a hand curled tightly in his hair. “Nox. Don’t stop.”

Yuri’s tongue is back at Kurando’s hole before he can think, Nox pushing him to finish what it started. The noises Kurando makes hit him with something that feels too much like lust. His cock is still thick. Still wet with Kurando’s spit. Still dripping come in thin strings from the tip.

Finish him, Nox hisses, and the raw want twisting Yuri’s stomach winds tighter.

Kurando’s moans blend with Nox’s whispers. Yuri closes his eyes, tries to shake off the light-headed feeling long enough to tell Nox to fuck off, but he can’t. Yuri’s fingertips rub over Kurando’s stretched hole, sink inside the heat of his body so easily it wrings a low sound from Yuri’s throat. He pulls Kurando wide with his fingers, licks at shining pink flesh. He fucks Kurando with his tongue until it feels sore from scraping over his teeth. Then, finally — fucking finally — when Kurando comes, shuddering and shaking and sounding like he’s never come so hard before in his life, Yuri slams his fingers deep and fucks him like that.

Kurando collapses to the floor as Yuri’s head echoes with Nox’s howl of exultation. Dizzy, panting hard for breath, Yuri nearly follows, catching himself at the last moment. He hovers over Kurando, waiting for his heart to slow, and whispers, “Fuck.”

Kurando tenses. He rolls halfway onto his side and stares up at Yuri. For once, his expression is anything but calm, and Yuri can’t separate one emotion or thought racing over Kurando’s face from the next.

Kurando starts, “When–”

“Before you came.”

“Oh,” Kurando says, swollen lips barely parted, eyes bright. Nox is close enough to the surface that the hard, predatory punch of lust to Yuri’s gut isn’t a surprise.

“Fuck,” Yuri says again, shoving away before Nox can make him kiss Kurando with his mouth still tasting of dirty sex. “Fuck, I’m–”

Sorry? Nox says. But you’re not, are you, Yuri? You enjoyed fucking the boy’s tight little ass as much as I did. There’s a short pause, like Nox drawing a breath and savouring it. We were his first, couldn’t you tell.

“I understand,” Kurando says, picking himself up off the floor.

Before Yuri can stop himself, his eyes jump to Kurando’s dick, tracking the come spattered over the smooth, lean planes of his stomach, the red welts raised by Nox’s claws not even begun to fade. When Yuri jerks his gaze back up where it belongs, he finds Kurando staring at his lap, and can’t stop himself from glancing down.

Yuri’s own cock is streaked with come, flesh flushed dark and thick framed by his torn pants. He breathes another curse, but doesn’t move to cover himself.

Let the boy look, Nox says. He’s wanted to for long enough.

“Shut up, Nox. Jesus.” Kurando shifts, snapping Yuri’s attention back to him. “I–”

“It’s fine,” Kurando says, bending to pick up the torn pieces of his robe, staring at the useless rags for a moment before letting them fall back to the floor. A quick look of discomfort flashes across his face.

“A bath’ll help,” Yuri blurts, surging to his feet. “If it hurts.”

“Thank you,” Kurando says, and this time when he moves to walk away, his steps are slow and careful.

“Wait,” Yuri says, catching Kurando’s arm. Under his hand, muscles are knotted with tension. “If you wanted that,” he says, half-hoping Kurando will turn to face him and half-hoping he won’t. “If Nox was right, and that’s what you wanted…” Yuri takes a deep breath, gets hit again by the heavy smell of sex, so he forces it out in a rush of, “If you wanted it, I’m not sorry.”

Kurando nods once, slowly, as Yuri’s hand slides away. “Thank you,” he repeats, and Yuri just stands there until the bathroom light clicks on and the door swings shut.

By the time the door opens again, Yuri’s curled up on his own bed, faking sleep. His skin is sticky and tight, and he’s sick of the taste clinging to his tongue. What he wants is a shower, some fresh clothes, and to not feel like he did something wrong.

Not fucking Kurando, that isn’t it. Or, it’s not everything, because that’s pretty damn wrong all by itself. It just feels like he’s been doing something wrong since he met the kid. Like he’s missing something important.

Bedsprings creak as Kurando settles back onto the mattress. Sheets brush skin in a soft whisper. Yuri waits for the sound of his breathing to even out, feeling like he should say something, or be over there, doing something to make it right. But he’s done just about enough for one night.

Traditionally, Nox murmurs to him, you tend to sleep with the people you fuck. Unless you’re planning on paying this one for his services.

If it wouldn’t give him away, he’d give Nox a few suggestions on how many ways it could fuck off. Instead, he settles for thinking about them. Loudly, and with details.


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