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extramortem) wrote2023-12-31 12:44 pm
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▶ AUDIO
▶ VIDEO
▶ ACTION
17 / male / interested in: men / 6♠
Details
Prior to arriving here, I was a new demon applying myself to learn everything I could about Hell and its rules as well as demons and the games that they play among one another. Prior to that, I was human—a student in school.
Anything else you want to know about me, you will have to ask me yourself.
Regardless of whether I’m here or in Hell, my goal is the same: I want to learn everything I can about this place and its people, and then I want to utilize the rules and rewards of the Game to best benefit myself. I want to discover what it means to become “powerful” in this place, and I plan on collecting cards and climbing ranks in order to do so—and on my own terms.
Determination and adaptability.
I’m interested in anything thrilling, frightening, or mysterious. Beyond that, I’m willing to try any number of new things, though I typically tend to focus on whatever is capturing my interest at the time. As for food, I would say that my sweet tooth is comparatively underdeveloped—I tend to prefer savory food, though I would be happy to share sweets with another.
What’s most important to me is that it’s someone who accepts me and loves me for everything that I am.
…Though, if he’s attractive, that would certainly be a bonus.
Wine
.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES
…Neither
.03 SHOWER OR BATH
Bath
.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS
Seriously? Neither. This is kind of childish…
.05 TITS OR ASS
Depends
.06 COFFEE OR TEA
Either
.07 SPICY OR SWEET
Spicy
.08 SUMMER OR WINTER
Winter
.09 LEATHER OR LACE
Lace
10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX
Both have their place, I think…
INTJ-T
cw: underage prostitution mention
( well, it’s sex, and considering how incentivized it is here, do they really need to be all that convincing? given how makoto had been living the last few months of his life prior to being brought here, he had rather enjoyed lapsing into the ease of not being expected to entertain multiple clients a day—well, you know, besides whatever wild escapades he might have gotten into since arriving in the resort, though they were relatively few and far between. they were also choices that makoto had made, individuals he had decided to take an interest in… given the fact that datenshou handles his schedule, it’s been the first time he’s had any choice in who he slept with since—J.
it’s why, despite the annoyances that come with living in this place, makoto still thinks he prefers his time here than to his time in hell. their desires and urges might be pushed and pulled, but the choices they make are ultimately their own. makoto likes that. having had so much taken away from him, he is both jealous and proud of everything he is and the choices he makes for himself.
if kazuya is embracing that as well… makoto would be happy for him. though, really, it sounds instead like he just keeps letting a truck back over him.
makoto starts to cringe away a little bit as kazuya works through what he means; the tips of his ears burn bright red, embarrassed. he’s about to take it back with a fumbling explanation before kazuya interrupts him with… more inexplicable bullshit. makoto turns sharply to face him, asking, ) What do you mean, “doesn’t make a mess?”
( yes, kazuya! his blood makes a mess, like normal blood does!!! what on earth is up with your weird demon king body this time!!
he ends up slumping, appreciative yet somewhat… defeated, in a weird way. ) … Thank you.
( they cross the resort to the portion of the complex where the stores are concentrated: the Nest. ignorant of kazuya’s sugar mommy situation (smh), he begins to wander in the direction of the more budget-conscious clothing boutiques—the clothes there were not as extravagant and not made of as fine of materials as others, but they’d seemed normal and suitable enough to makoto. )
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For once, this problem isn't just specific to him!
Kazuya gives a lopsided smile as he trails after Makoto through the store while carefully looking over clothes himself as he does, though he doesn't ever stray too far away from the other demon.]
Yeah... My blood kind of just... Disappears? After a few seconds? It's kind of handy because it doesn't make a mess or stick to my clothes or anything like that.
[Honestly, he'd also only guessed that Makoto's blood is still very messy because of how he'd phrased it... Overeager, on both of their parts. And it's not like Kazuya isn't eager either? Even now, there's a slow roll of delight rolling in his stomach, putting him in maybe a little too chipper of a mood.]
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there are many reactions to what kazuya just said that one might expect—alarm mingling with something which looks concerningly similar to disappointment isn’t exactly one of them. but of course it’s in his nature to be disappointed by something like that! it might be convenient to kazuya, but as inconvenient as it was to deal with in the aftermath, blood is… something of a fixation, an enjoyment that makoto often specifically pursued (for those who would let him). the color of it, the heat of it, the taste of it, the way it felt on his fingers and against his skin… it just seems like it would make a lot of things rather underwhelming if that blood just evaporated after a few seconds. and his expression reflects this more than he might have preferred.
ultimately he doesn’t even say anything, heaving a sigh and turning toward the shelves to pick through the clothes. he is more closely examining a black, button-up shirt with a collar when he does reply in a grinding tone, ) Well, good for you. Mine doesn’t.
( and it just tends to get everywhere. it’s specifically the wound at his neck—it tends to draw attention, and for better or for worse, makoto has found he rather likes it when people mess with it, and it just tends to bleed a lot. it’s embarrassing. )
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What you want the mess? [It's clear he does, and he'll even nudge Makoto playfully, leaning into him a little more than necessary.] Sorry I'm a disappointment to your desires for it. Maybe you can at least enjoy the novelty of it if you make a big enough mess? It'll take a little longer to disappear, the more there is of it.
[He's teasing, but it's hardly at Makoto for wanting the mess. He very much can understand that urge himself, though his is much, much newer.]
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( he’s not terribly convincing, though in truth he’s only half-lying, given how much an obstacle cleaning it up afterward has proven to be. it would certainly help alleviate whatever clean-up might have to be done! it makes him wonder: does kazuya have any sort of control over that? it’s a question that’s partially answered just as soon as it springs to makoto’s mind. yes, his gaze is drawn back towards kazuya as if telling him that making a big enough mess would prolong how long it would stick around, as if this is an answer that gives him a little more hope (because it does). but he seems to regret it as soon as it registers in his expression, and he looks away, partially in a huff, partially embarrassed, and partially ashamed. because, you know… the subtext of what they’re talking about is probably wounding kazuya pretty bad? even though he’s the one that brought it up??
it’s probably a little weird that they’re joking about this sort of thing, considering, but makoto certainly isn’t normal enough to notice. he groans a little in the back of his throat as kazuya leans into him. he replies in a half-mumble, ) No, it’s fine… We’re supposed to be starting slow, right?
( don’t tempt makoto too much, kazuya… his self-control isn’t perfect, you know.
he picks something else from another shelf—this one long-sleeved and more sweater-like, a warm and soft material in a deep maroon. he glances to kazuya. ) This is probably as much as I can afford for now. ( two shirts… ) See anything you like?
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[But he doesn't really sound sure of that. He's teasing because it also helps take the edge off the anticipation, the trepidation. It's not that he's worried Makoto could possibly hurt him past the point of no return, he doesn't have that, as far as he's aware anymore.
But also, Makoto seems... Excited for it? Excited for the mess, in a way that probably signifies he's into the blood aspect of it just as much as the inflicting of the wounds. It's a little hard to get a read on him, with how shifty and almost a little cagey he's being, and he opens his mouth to ask a question, though Makoto beats him to the punch first, and he nods slowly, taking his weight off Makoto so he can go through a few racks himself.]
Oh, yeah. There's a few shirts I think I'd like, though... Do you want me to get you something nice too? I've got the cash for it.
[Though he doubts the other demon is going to take him up on the offer. He's seems way to reluctant to take any sort of gift as it is.]
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he is hard to get a read on about this sort of thing by design, as he has spent basically every waking moment since puberty making sure that he wouldn’t let too many people on about this very subject. he is just a little more loose with kazuya, given their similarities, but… whenever he feels like he’s going a little too far, he retracts in panicked half-instinct. it’s hard to break so many years of having learned to do just that.
he is terse in the silence that marks his initial reply. kazuya might not mind riding on other’s coattails, but… there’s something about it that doesn’t sit well with him, even when offered. it’s a fierce and prideful independence, underlined by wariness in how others might attempt to control him by debts owed.
at least in this, it’s not really that big of a deal to shake his head and refuse. ) Thank you, but no. It’s alright. This is enough to replace the ones I had to throw out.
( though… his brow knits. ) Have you really been making that much money…? ( damn, kazuya… )
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[He's... getting laid, fairly frequently. And for some reason they pay you for that! Which is crazy, in his opinion, but also not that terrible when it seems like he's being dragged into it at almost every turn. Though maybe he could stand to be a little more wary of all the sweets he tends to consume, considering.
Well, it'll be something to think about the next time it becomes an issue, and he does look a little embarrassed by the fact that he does have a fairly large sum of cash.]
I play cards in the casino sometimes, and the payouts are pretty good there too, if you know what you're doing. [Which, he only barely does. He just kind of makes the hands that the other Bel demons who are way better at gambling tell him to make, and it works out extremely well in 99% of the hands he gets.
He's a filthy cheater, basically.]
I figured since I'm a pretty low rank, I'd have to give a little more to make sure that I get what I need, and it kind of works? More often than not, anyway.
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it’s something he’s personally fine with. makoto is the type to value his agency far higher than luxury and comforts; he’s flatly not materialistic. as long as he’s not struggling to feed or clothe himself (which he certainly isn’t, with a little careful budgeting), he’s fine.
that, and he’s supposedly been having a lot more luck with avoiding a lot of the aphrodisiacs that others have been complaining about? he would say maybe it’s some sort of demon immunity, but… clearly that’s not the case with kazuya.
he ends up shrugging. ) If you can get this place to work to your advantage, why not? It certainly seems like it makes things like this easier. ( it hadn’t even really been in his head that what he’d asked might come off as judgmental—it’d just occurred to him as a thought when faced with how different one’s funds actually ended up looking like. why the hell would he end up judging when he had been working explicitly towards learning how to use sex to manipulate other demons before being brought here?
given how uninterested he is in material goods, it comes as no surprise that makoto isn’t much of a shopper. he accompanies kazuya for whatever he wants to look at, but otherwise he’s ready to check out and go whenever. )
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And even then, he definitely has a set of spare clothes elsewhere. Which is the same elsewhere that the clothes he buys gets sent to as he pays for them, they disappear in a strange little fwip noise as he runs his hand over them. Just a few shirts, and another pair of pants, and then he turns to Makoto.]
Well... Shall we be off?
[Part of him wonders if maybe he shouldn't teleport both of them to his room, but he's also pretty unsure how Makoto would take it, that sort of power being used on him. Especially since he already seems to have a complex over his own lack thereof.]
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unless he was hungry to climb the ranks and regain that of king. though—wouldn’t ace technically be higher?
as sedate as makoto might seem in his pace, he would certainly say that his ultimate endgoal is to try to win and see what sort of power and prestige he might be able to wrangle from that success. he would have to admit that he feels less pressured with regards to time and circumstance because this place was quite a bit more comfortable and accommodating than hell was. but he is a demon and therefore immortal, so… it’s not like he is in any rush?
makoto is staring with open shock at the space where the things that kazuya had just bought were just a second ago when he turns and asks his question. he slowly drags his attention up to his friend, generally understanding what he’d done, but… man. some guys just have all the luck. he has no idea that such a power could also apply to teleporting individuals (he’s assuming it’s more of a hammerspace situation?), so he huffs a sigh. )
We’ll have to swing by my room first, so I can drop this off. ( he gestures with the bag of clothing he’d bought. some of us don’t have powers to help with that sort of thing.
but since they’re both on the same floor, it’s not like it will be much of a detour anyway. he leads the way, taking them in the direction of the elevator. )
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... Normally when he goes shopping with people, hes the designated bag boy.
But Makoto is already walking away, and he gives a sort of lurching start to catch the few steps between them up. ]
Do you want me to carry your stuff?
[ Again, he feels like he knows the answer, that Makoto will once more deny any sort of help, and honestly it's not like the shirts he's carrying are probably that heavy anyway, but... It feels odd, to not at least offer. ]
I'd offer to send them to your room, but I've never been, and don't know the layout.
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makoto turns to face kazuya as if he’d sprouted a second head (or perhaps something even weirder than that, given that probably wouldn’t be too weird for demons) at the suggestion. he might be the designated bag boy with other people, but, like… the bag probably weighs less than a pound, and he can carry it himself? what the hell?
a more logical portion of his brain understands that, once again, kazuya is asking this against common sense just so he can be nice. which is still weird and bizarre to makoto, but at least now, a month or so into living in the resort, he is more familiar with how people are just nice for no reason around here. so he doesn’t try to bite kazuya’s head off about it (which he might have done a month or so ago), instead just shaking his head. ) As pathetic and weak as I know I may seem, ( he replies, affecting a tone both grandiose and sarcastic, ) I think I’ll manage on my own.
( his further explanation is of slightly more interest. )
Is that what you just did? ( he frowns. ) Well, it’s probably for the best you see where my room is, then. Though I can’t imagine the layout is too different from your own.
( something which is proven after they go down the elevator into the basement. after a short navigation of the long hallways which house the rooms for the threes and fours, makoto stops by one in particular, swiping his Watch over its handle. it gives a confirming beep!, clicks as it unlocks, and gives them entry. he pushes through the door, holding it open for kazuya. )
You can come in, if you like.
( though there’s not much to see. the majority of the small, rectangular space is taken up by a carefully-made full-size bed—it could be converted to a twin to offer more floor space, but as he only really came in here to sleep, makoto kept it like this. there’s a bedside table to the side of the bed, and a short distance away on the opposite wall, there is a built-in desk alongside the sliding door of a closet. it’s very clean inside, though also rather empty besides a few borrowed library books on the bedside table. there are other belongings of his in the room, but he keeps them hidden in compartments built into the walls near the bed.
makoto sidles over to the closet, opening it and setting the bag inside to deal with later. closing it again, he muses aloud, ) …If this means you’re just going to drop off random stuff in here, though. ( he gives kazuya a sharp look. ) Don’t. ( he doesn’t want to be non-consensually given gifts… to his twisted little brain, it would feel oddly patronizing. )
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Sheesh. Talk about rotten luck for the both of them. At least there's always the upward climb.]
No surprise gifts or you'll kick my ass, got it. [He says, a little cheekily.
They both know that Makoto can't actually do anything like that, though honestly... It wouldn't be that hard to imagine Kazuya just taking whatever he felt like dishing out.]
I'm actually surprised, I thought you might have something a little more different. The 6 rooms are definitely more like rooms than this. And the beds are way better too.
[Not like, by a long shot, but better is still better.]
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We’re on the same floor—the same hall, even—and we all use the same communal bathroom. I feel as though things don’t really change much unless you climb the ranks enough to go up a floor.
( it makes more sense to just make a bunch of identical rooms on a given floor, right? honestly, these rooms aren’t so bad for makoto; the communal restroom was an annoyance, certainly, but given the stories he’s heard about the rooms on the sub-basement below them, he’s counting himself fortunate he hadn’t been brought into the resort as a two. )
It figures anything in the basement of the resort is going to be… less than preferable. They probably don’t want us to be comfortable down here. ( his lips press into a thin line. just another way the resort tries to encourage participation—odd, though, that some are given vast advantages over others for inscrutable reasons? he knows that J had been made a ten… )
But it should be temporary, at least.
( as long as he manages to play the game well enough to become a five, things would become much more comfortable for him.
there isn’t really much else to look at or do in here, so he goes to the door again and walks out into the hall. ) Okay. Which room is yours, then? ( you know, the one you never use )
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Well, at least Makoto is right on that. It's definitely preferable to the basement. Brr. Talk about getting the heebie jeebies... The haunted paintings were bad enough, but down there? It's definitely worse. Much worse.
So he'll take the change in conversation gladly, waving Makoto along as they step out into the hall. He's... Uh, well, he's only actually walked there once or twice, but he still thankfully remembers where the room is. He lets them in in much the same way Makoto had opened his own door.
And just like Makoto's, the room is fastidiously clean. And for the most part? Pretty sparse. There's a few things here and there, but mostly it's the bed (not pulled out, like Makoto's)and a bedside table. The little storage pockets have clothes neatly tucked away, and the bed is properly folded though!]
Well? This is it.
[Much like Makoto's it's not very impressive, and Kazuya will move further in to sit on the only available area: the bed.]
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not that it really matters right now. the room is ultimately inconsequential besides what precious little privacy it offers.
makoto follows behind kazuya, but he doesn’t join him on the bed—he does not decide to sit alongside him in the sort of bashful awkwardness of youth, fumbling through how to move forward. he’d missed out on having that sort of time in his life—at this point, he never would. instead he stands before his friend, close enough that their knees just barely touch. he looks down on him, expression complex enough that it’s difficult to read. he is finding that, though what they’d agreed upon coming here to do was nothing novel for him… there is a part of it that is, in a way that he hadn’t considered until here and now. now that he has, it tangles up in the tines of his ribs, crawling up his throat and causing it to ache painfully. )
I’ve… ( he murmurs, softly, thoughtfully, ) never done this with someone I considered a “friend” before.
( …he feels like it’s a somewhat damning thing to admit, but it’s true. he had only befriended fjord afterward, and he had certainly had no pleasant thoughts about the demon during. J—there are many, many words makoto would use to describe him, but “friend” wasn’t any of them. all the others had been clients, which was about as far away from the concept as he could imagine. and the people he’s slept with since arriving here… the nature of their relationships was definitely different than how he feels about kazuya.
apprehension—which he can’t really decide is either good (excitement) or bad (anxiety)—knots his stomach. ) …Nothing else has to change between us, right?
( he feels moderately certain that it wouldn’t have to on his end. he has gone a long way to compartmentalizing any sexual relationship he might have with another person—but he is always worried that it will drive others away from him, deviant that he is. )
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For some reason, that warms a part of him in his chest. Makes him want to reach out to grab the other demon, pull him into his lap and be gentle. To kiss him sweetly and all those other things that go along with that.
But that's not what they're here for, and he has a feeling Makoto might not like that at all, so he resists. Instead, he leans back on his hands, giving a nod.]
Nothing will change between us. No matter what happens, I'm the one who asked.
[Is what he says, in lieu of a promise that he remembers Makoto doesn't like. Instead, he'll keep his posture neutral, tilt his head up to watch him carefully and perhaps, a little more intently. Apprehension is there, yes, but also excitement. Kazuya tries not to let either show as he waits patiently for Makoto to make the first move.]
cw: underage prostitution mention
he isn’t that person now, and at this rate he never would be. there are precious few people who see him as “makoto;” there are fewer still that acknowledge or accept him as such. his relationship with kazuya offers him something tantalizingly tempting in its simplicity: a shard of human friendship that he had never really had when he was still alive. it was different from how his friendship with fjord had been. makoto had known, even as they had grown closer, that you could never really trust a demon not to stab you in the back. he wants to believe he could trust kazuya with that.
some of the tension in his expression eases at the reply, replaced instead with resolve. he takes a half-step closer, one knee interjecting between kazuya’s own to give him room to stand between them; he leans forward, drawing their faces close together as his left hand lifts to his jaw. his eyes lid heavily, long eyelashes falling over the sharpness of bright-silver and red as deep as blood. he speaks again in low undertone, but this one is oddly placid and dispassionate—the utterly still surface of a black-water pond which might belie unfathomable depths. )
Let’s get one thing clear, though. ( he’s close enough now that the words are very nearly spoken against kazuya’s lips; the warmth of their breath mingles together. ) In this place, I only do this when I want to.
( he just didn’t want kazuya to have any illusions.
though it’s hard to have any in the way makoto kisses him. no, he is not particularly the type predisposed towards anything gentle and tender—that having been said, he isn’t harsh or brusque either. purposeful is perhaps the best word to describe how he presses his lips to kazuya’s to feel how they mold together, leaning forward enough that his right hand falls to the bed to help prop him up. his mouth moves, his head tilting somewhat, and he tries hard to focus on moderation—which is challenging to do when makoto’s emotions tend to burn hot and fast, consumptive and destructive. his lips part to allow his tongue to sweep across kazuya’s lips in a smooth, suggestive roll, hot and intent. )
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Maybe Kazuya uses the food as an excuse. A way to explain away behaviour that he might not otherwise have exhibited before. Sure, he'd been physically affectionate with people before, but never to this extent. Never to strangers like he is here, and whether or not it can solely be blamed on the drugs or the resort or just his new nature in general... Well. He honestly has no care to find out. His left hand comes up, caressing Makoto's cheek in turn as their lips meet, thumb brushing over his cheek.
The aprehension that had sat in his gut is replaced now. A giddiness that he can't explain, an urge to pull and tug and, perhaps, just like Makoto himself, consume. Moderation is what's needed between them, perhaps, but it's not what's given. Where Makoto is slow, lets his tongue sweep against his lower lip in a way that sends chills down his spine, Kazuya is more intent. Like a damn being burst, his other hand finds it's way to Makoto's hip, pulling him with intent as he presses back against the kiss, parts his lips to let his tongue sweep over the other demons as his eyes turn from their placid blue to their hellish red.
More than anything, he wants Makoto. Wants him to know that, wants whatever sort of affection he'll give. Whether that's a tender touch of his tongue like he's done now, or a harsh bite that draws blood. Kazuya only pulls away briefly, once he's had a taste.]
Then I'm glad that right now you want to do this with me.
[It's not a lie, and not meant to be some smooth, suave comment. It's genuine, and he bumps his forehead against Makoto's like an overly affectionate cat before his lips are back on him again, hungry and searching for more, for anything he might be willing to offer, to give to him.]
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regardless, kazuya’s tendency towards being a pushover in intimate matters is only something to joke and tease him about when makoto isn’t personally benefiting from it.
the thing about the careful delineations of makoto’s self-restraint is that they have been structured and reinforced in a way where they only withstand the strength of his impulses and urges coming from within. he is incredibly weak to any pressures from outside. so when kazuya reaches out to grab at his hip, pulling him forcefully towards him so that their bodies go flush against one another, his brow knits, breath shaking and rattling as he draws a sharp inhale through his nose. it’s a spark struck haphazardly around dry kindling, and he tries to keep himself from reacting too much, too fiercely—because all it awakens in him is a bone-deep yearning for more, for more touch and more taste and more pressure and more friction and more everything he can get, everything he can take all for himself. kazuya’s lips part, their tongues meeting; makoto allows kazuya to break away, ruminating over the taste of a king of hell.
when he’s like this, there’s often a shuttering of some of makoto’s emotional reactivity as the part of him that he so often tries to bury when around others begins to assert itself to his forefront; with what kazuya tells him, though, that falls alway, revealing something fleeting and vulnerable—the look of a drowning man seeing the light of an approaching ship, a lifeline being thrown his way.
he doesn’t have anything to say back to it, merely accepting it with a momentary lump in his throat; his eyes lid closed as kazuya bumps his forehead to his, just for a moment. but then his lips are back on makoto’s, hot and investigatory in a way that almost poses a question, as if asking for what it is he brings to bear. fine, then. his spine straightens up somewhat, moving to cup kazuya’s face in both hands to kiss him back with matching fierceness and a hunting sort of hunger. makoto tends to wear his tendencies on his sleeve like this: sometimes his mouth opens just a little wide in the kiss, so that as their mouths move against one another, occasionally he just barely scrapes across his lips with the edges of his teeth. he kisses him deeply, rolling his tongue into kazuya’s mouth in almost rhythmic surges, alternatingly inviting him into his own so he can trap it and suck on it for just a moment, a small, faint hum in his throat.
the quick warmth of his blood slowly ratchets to a steady heat beneath the surface of his skin; it begins to tangle and knot complicatedly in his stomach. standing is quickly becoming burdensome. he presses even closer, lifting one knee to rest on the edge of the mattress, pushing against the interior of kazuya’s thigh—back up and give me some room. )
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A pleased sound echoes in his throat. It all comes back to that. It all comes back to what they are, what they were, and how that alone is enough to excite him, to entice him more so than the push for him to back up. Not before he nips at Makoto's lower lip though, teeth sharper than they had been only moments prior. It's something he's come to find here. That there's usually subtle changes to accompany his moods or wants, and in this case, it's definitely, definitely wants.
But patience is needed. They'll get there. There's still time to explore between them. For Kazuya himself to better acquaint himself with the kinds of things Makoto might like, might enjoy. They're here for his exploration of concepts, but that doesn't necessarily mean he can't learn anything about the person so willing to take him up on his curiousity. Especially not with how hot his blood is pumping in his ears, his heartbeat kicking up a notch or three once he's scooted back an appropriate amount. It breaks their kiss, sure, but Kazuya's hand remains firmly on Makoto's cheek, still brushing it with his thumb gently despite the electric heat between them.]
Let me know if I do something you don't like, alright?
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in being former humans made into demons, there is both a fierce-burning brand of similarity between them—and an ocean which separates their actual, lived experiences. but it’s enough. it’s enough to enkindle a powerful magnetism in him, something deep and innate that draws him inexorably towards kazuya. the other young demon’s teeth sharpen as that nature swims closer to the surface; the sharp pinch and small lance of pain that shoots from his caught lip causes makoto to break their kiss for just a moment with a gasp. he had been honest when he said he preferred to be the one to do the biting—being bitten by another demon, even one who would likely have been ranked as a distant superior, causes something indignant to arch its back and bristle within him. for now, he muzzles it, eyes opening to fix kazuya in a fierce stare. he doesn’t blink as he slowly licks over the welt, like how a big cat might swipe blood from its lips; it hadn’t been enough to break the skin, but it had been close.
a shiver runs down his spine. he does his best to regulate his breathing so that it doesn’t run away from him.
his hands shift to kazuya’s shoulders as he steps up onto the bed once space enough is made for him; he ends up kneeling on the mattress in-between his legs, sitting back on his heels. at the question, he leans ever-so-slightly into the hand at his cheek. )
…I feel like I should be the one telling you that. Though, ( a brief pause, and he almost looks sheepish—as if ashamed?—here, ) you might need to… ( he lifts one hand from kazuya’s shoulder to gently thump down against it, once, twice, three times, ) …just to make sure I hear you.
( he is well aware that he can get carried away.
a little bit like right now. his fingers tighten on kazuya’s shoulders—he leans forward suddenly, up from where he had been resting back on his haunches, leveraging his (admittedly negligible) weight to press the other young man against the wall that was a short distance behind him. he closes the distance to capture his mouth in a shallow, yet sultry, kiss, seeming like he might break early from it before he catches kazuya’s lower lip in-between his teeth. it isn’t a nip; there’s full intention, a few long heartbeats where there is only the catch, possessive and without pressure, before he slowly begins to bite down. he doesn’t aim on breaking skin here—he doesn’t want to travel so quickly, not trusting himself as much once the taste of blood begins to cloud his mind. no, as much as his own desires would have him bite down fully, to rip and rend, to greedily swallow down whatever he could tear away—he focuses instead on this exploration, seeing how kazuya might react. )
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He wants to see this through to it's conclusion. How else is he supposed to decide whether or not he likes it? To do anything else would feel like he didn't at least give it an honest attempt, and even then, he knows at the very least, he very, very much likes biting.
Being bitten in turn, too. His heartbeat kicks up again as Makoto's teeth catch and hold his lip, and there's a tense, exciting few seconds where nothing happens, nothing but the pressure and the implication that at any point, teeth could cut into his lip, draw blood. There's clear amusement in his eyes as he watches Makoto, studies him with slitted pupils. It's a silent acceptance, that Makoto can bite him as he pleases, that he doesn't need to hold back for his sake, and that if he's going to bite him, he needs to get on with it.
And should he do that, to bite harder, to pierce the thin skin of his lip, he'll find that Kazuya's blood isn't anything like a normal humans, just as he said it'd be. It's thick like oil, tastes like an almost too saccharine wine with a lingering hint of spice and smoke.
He'll also find that the wound made, if he chooses to make one, will heal fairly quickly so long as he doesn't keep agitating it.
Either way, Kazuya isn't content in just leaving it there, letting his free hand roam to Makoto's thigh. No need to brace himself if he's already against a wall, after all.]
cw: cannibalism mention
given what kazuya has told him about his recent past, makoto knows that logically it would probably be next to impossible for him to actually seriously damage him. but even if he just sees that he cares about making sure that that’s the case… that’s enough for him.
he sees the amusement leaping in the crimson gleam of kazuya’s eyes—and he feels like he gets a sense of the mounting tension of impatience that grows between them as he applies careful pressure, this time less his own and more that of the other teen’s. for a half-second it’s annoying, but then it’s amusing as well; makoto can’t help but huff a sound half-way between a laugh and a snort in grim acknowledgment.
if that’s how you want to be. makoto had thought to be slow with him, given his uncertainty when they’d first talked about this, but… he’s certainly not going to back down from a challenge.
for many, biting is rising welts with ragged, bleeding edges—it is an extension of marking, wrapped in a violent urge, providing the odd, subversive satisfaction of flesh giving way between teeth. for makoto, it can be like this, but for so long biting to him had been done with the express purpose of tearing flesh away from bone, savage in how mechanically perfunctory it was. when he follows through to really bite kazuya’s lip, he specifically has to repress the instinct to cant his head in the motion to tear away; instead he feels the second he goes through the skin with a perverse thrill that dances along the surface of his skin, resonating at the base of his spine. blood begins to well in his mouth, but it’s not what he’s tasted before—even as a demon, J’s had tasted how makoto had always imagined, hot and metallic, thick and tacky as it cooled. kazuya’s is perhaps even more viscous, bizarrely heady, as if it were some sort of mulled wine. surprised, he pulls away, eyes narrowed in confusion as he watches that split lip slowly begin to knit itself together. something almost serpentine enters his coin-like eyes, coldly calculating; dark shapes like unseen leviathans move in the depths of that dark, bottomless pool. he’s half-way through an exhale before he gives way to an impulse, leaning forward again to press his lips to that spot, tongue stealing away all the blood that he can before the wound disappears entirely.
oh, no. he’s making too many dangerous revelations too quickly.
his left hand moves from kazuya’s shoulder, along the line of his neck to rake up into his hair—his fingers flex at first, scratching at his scalp, but he rewards this brief affection with force, grabbing a fistful of kazuya’s hair once he’s able and pulling just hard enough to force his head up, baring his throat. makoto moves in this save moment, mouthing away from his healing lip with a faint smear of blood, half-hearted nibbling along the line of his jaw before going onward, chasing the heat and racing pulse thudding through his carotid. he can feel the force of it pounding against his lips as he kisses that spot, humming; he considers biting him here, vividly ideating the flood that it would loose, how it would feel against his skin and running down his throat like thick honey mead. he doesn’t. he presses his teeth to the spot, playfully, as if a promise for later (either to be followed through on or not, who can say), before moving slightly to the side and driving his teeth into the flesh at the side of his neck.
he doesn’t hold back. once, when he had been alive and contracted to J, he would come home from school and fall into his arms; he would kiss the demon, then he would fall into him, tearing whatever mouthfuls he wanted from him in order to satisfy his pleasure. here, makoto bites kazuya just as hard—the only difference is that he once again holds himself back from tearing the flesh away and eating. even still, indulging himself enough to pierce through the skin and draw blood is enough to elicit a low, rough groan from him; so rarely given the opportunity to pursue his penchant for violence, blood, consumption in whatever ways he can take it, arousal begins to well up within him. he surges forward to press as much of his body against kazuya as he can, chasing whatever friction between them that he can. )
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cw blood and slight gore?
mildest gore, mildest blood.... cw: mentioned predation??? sort of
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cw: blood, gore, violence, slight cannibalism...
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🔞 cw: blood, violence
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🔞 cw: blood, gore, light vore, cannibalism mention...
cw: blood, gore, light vore, cannibalism mention + predation mentions...
🔞 cw: predation & suicide mention, gore, vore
🔞 cw: fucked up demons, honestly.
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🔞
🔞
🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
🔞 cannibalism mention
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🔞 cannibalism/vore again...
vore, vore never changes
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