INTERMISSIONS

INTERMISSION

AU
NSFW

Warjin emits a low growl as he cleans his blade on his wrecked white shirt.
Mothawit approaches him with a smirk. "I would have thought someone of your experience would not make such a mess."
Warjin looks up, no humor in those ebony eyes. "I did not make a mess."
Mothawit is not fazed by the dark entity. He takes several steps closer and without warning drags his heavy, rough tongue across Warjin's cheek.
Warjin doesn't even flinch before bringing his blade against Mothawit's throat. "What the fuck do you think you are doing?," he asks voice even but deadly.
"Removing the blood from your skin."
"Last I checked, we weren't lacking for cloth."
"But blood tastes so good, why would I waste it?"
"You're a nuisance."
"I am the nuisance? My my I didn't know spawns of the devil were such ungrateful brats."
"You are licking me," comes the steely response but Mothawit could detect a smidge of a whine.
This makes him smile.
It was completely deranged how a literal demon makes him feel warmth he has not felt in decades. But then again, it would not be his life if it wasn't consistently verging on psychotic.
Mothawit presses down on the blade Warjin held against him, then using the tip of his finger pushes the blade backwards. The hilt was covered in decorative feathers and they now were pressed against Warjin's neck.
He moves the blade downwards, not minding the drops of blood escaping his skin. He was too transfixed on the black feathers sweeping against Warjin's body, creating a path to the demon's navel. "You know," the killer breathes. "I do more than just lick."
Warjin gives a derisive snort. "I have seen what humans can do. I don't find it particularly impressive."
In other circumstances, those words would have worked to transform the tension. After all, it took so little to trigger Mothawit.
But instead, Mothawit disarms Warjin of the knife and crowds him.
He uses the tip of the blade to destroy Warjin's buttons
one
by
one.
Mothawit whispers against Warjin's ears. "It would be easier to believe your words if your pants weren't so goddamn thin."
The blade knicks Warjin's waist and it slices downwards destroying his pants.
Mothawit looks downwards and he cannot help but lick his lips. "I think you're very impressed."
Warjin swallows, his throat felt thick but he refused to succumb to this mere mortal no matter how godly he appeared. "Common biology. You licked an erogenous region and this body I borrowed has to respond. Don't think for a second that you have an actual effect on me."
Without warning Mothawit drops to his knees. "How will your borrowed body respond if I do this?," he asks lips against Warjin's inner thighs.
"Accordingly," comes the half strangled repsonse.
Mothawit looks up and sees Warjin's pupils fully dilated and crimson lips parted and slick. "You know, you went through great lengths to obtain this human body- shouldn't you at least enjoy it? See what it's capable of?"
"There is no need. A mortal body could never compare."
Mothawit smirks, feathers now running in lazy circles on the tip of Warjin's obvious desire. "I think you do need it."
"What are you doing?," Warjin asks, embarrassed as he finds himself writhing against his own knife.
"You're covered in blood, I am simply cleaning you off."
"Wipe it," Warjin tries to command but he is losing control at the feel of Mothawit's callused hands rubbing against his exposed skin.
"But this is more infinitely more fun," Mothawit says, taking a taste of Warjin.
Warjin hisses and angrily shoves his entire length into Mothawit's blasphemous mouth. He hears him gag. Warjin laughs - it echoes throughout the room.
But the laughter becomes moaning and cursing. It is Mothawit's turn to laugh.
Warjin lets him.
Mothawit will be punished for his insolence before the night is done.
Warjin will make him beg.