AU OneShot - (**)
Kallixstus - Sashi
~ Need ~
Eyes clamped shut, hands clenched in the loose covering of the thin, tired mattress, and legs spread, Sashi inhales sharply as the invading finger presses into him. Flat on his back, teeth grit and head thrown back, he almost looks the part of a cheap whore if not for the absence of the false, overdramatic wails of ecstasy. Instead he is eerily, bitterly silent, the quiet broken only by harsh panting that masks the noise from the street four flights below.
Two more fingers and the burning, golden pools open, threatening to drown me with their intensity. Sashi’s wound tighter than I’ve ever seen him, the terrible, conflicting emotions and naked desire like a coiled spring on the edge of explosion. It’s a feeling I know intimately. One way or another, fighting or fucking, there has to be release.
Slowing the pace of my hand, I meet the hard gaze with maroon-tinted apathy. The humid, rainy Bangkok night covers us in a thin sheen of sweat, unruly strands of hair clinging to faces, necks, and shoulders. Kneeling between Sashi’s legs, watching him carefully, I lightly trace a wet path down the narrow caramel-colored chest before grasping the Dark’s left hand.
Recoiling as if he’s been burned, Sashi wrenches away, attempting to sit up just my fingers thrust deep, hitting the prostate and sending the younger Selestarri arching off the mattress.
“He’s dead. Let it go.” I tell him. Breathing hard, his body trembles as I slowly twist my fingers. Forcing the distracted Dark’s palm open, I stare down at the intricate pattern burned into it. It’s rare to see an oath-breaking pattern and I deliberately touch every line as venomous hate rolls off him.
“Fuck you, Kallixstus,” Sashi snarls. “I’ll do what I want.”
Smirking down at him, my heat-encased digits restart the frenzied pace and I watch as Sashi writhes. He is right, however. Only one Selestarri has power over him, a power she’d gained through deception so deep even I felt for Sashi. He’d given away control over his formidable magic so that the one he loved would be free, only to watch as she murdered the tortured Eclipsed moments later. Now her hold would reach even into the landscapes of Eviternity, eliminating suicide as means of escape. Sorrow and pain still ringed the golden eyes of the young Dark after two years, his silent presence on Nova restricted to the shadows, earning him the nickname of “Ghost.”
He’s at the edge again, prone body pulled in tight, eyes closed against the monumental flood of emotion. Wiping greasy fingers on his thigh, I reach for the half-empty tube of lubricant, grungy label written in sprawling Thai, and I idly wonder if it came with the room. Squeezing an adequate amount into my hand, I toss it to the concrete floor and move close, pulling his legs around my waist.
One fluid stroke and I’m inside, hot and inviting, our slick chests pressed together. Positioned over him, I wind my fingers into his ebony hair, forcing him to look up at me, a reminder that he wanted this, had solicited it just like he did every month.
Shut out every feeling, emotion, desire, and still one thing remains: need. Much as the Selestarri believe they are above the humans, we still succumb to the same animalistic instinct to fuck. There is no ignoring or denying it, like eating or sleeping, it’s hardwired into our minds, and so we either let it out or go mad. Many would romanticize it, dress it in flowers and lace, but at the end it was still about sweat and cum, give and take.
And that was exactly what it was between Sashi and I. No misguided pretense of love or even affection, no foreplay, no whispered words of endearment, just need and release. Two concepts we both understood very well.
I won’t say I wasn’t surprised when he approached me over a year ago. I have no interest in surmising the reasons for his choice, although perhaps it stems from the fact that unlike so many of the other Dark, I’m not afraid of him. Or, in a more twisted sense, I was the one who repeatedly raped his beloved partner, so it may be that he feels sex with me brings them closer. Whatever his motivation, I don’t care as long as I get release.
Hard and quick I push into his willing body, bracing against the low windowsill with my free hand. We slide together easily, Sashi bucking his hips to meet every thrust, legs still clasped around my waist. His breath is rapid gasps that wash over my throat, and lured by the sex-flush of his skin I release his hair and shift so I can cover his mouth with my lips.
Uncharacteristically, he nips and sucks at me, as if my lips are the only things on which he can take out the painful rush of insatiable need. Soon my blood is between us, metallic and salty, it’s scent hitting my senses like a drug. He pulls away, huffing into my ear as I find the juncture of shoulder and neck, claws manifesting and scoring the sensitive flesh as the spiraling sensation of orgasm wraps like a constricting snake.
“Fuck,” Sashi breathes against my cheek. “Oh, fuck.”
He’s close and his hands fist into the mattress cover as I angle my hips to penetrate deeper. Scarlet stains the sheets and Sashi’s as incensed as I, he licks the blood off my face, cursing quietly as the edge looms and I relentlessly push him toward it, threatening to split his slender body with every thrust.
I know the exact moment he soars over, every muscle contracted, hands finding my thighs to pull me in deep. Freefalling though the first moments of incredible sensation, and then he’s thrashing on the worn mattress and I fight to contain him as he finally lets it out, screaming in euphoric liberation; never my name, but always that of his dead partner.
Not that I care, since his release has pushed me over too, and I savagely use him, my claws scratching at his sides, stomach, legs, any inch of his heated skin. I want—no, need—to mark him, remind him that I’m the one who’s given him what he sought. The golden eyes burn me as he braces himself against the window frame, but I’m too removed, given only to the primal emotions storming through my body.
When it’s over I roll away and we lie panting in the dingy glow of the bare bulb suspended from the ceiling. Noise from below brings the crashing return of reality, the cold truth of that which we’d both been able to forget for one suspended moment. New cigarette smoke adds a layer to old as Sashi takes a deep drag. Scratched and spattered with blood, sprawled across the dingy mattress, sweat-dampened hair obscuring his eyes, he looks more relaxed, the suffocating need sedated for the present.
The thick heat is too much and I stretch my exhausted body before rising. Wiping blood and semen from my chest and hands, I pull on my pants, fastening the belts and throwing the rest of my clothing over my shoulder.
Sashi is sitting in the windowsill, a new cigarette in his hand, back to me as he watches the movement on the street. I can still see the drying trails of crimson that paint his body, a testament to our monthly ritual.
“Next month,” he says quietly, hardly more than a whisper, and although he can’t see me, I nod, gathering the magic needed to return to Nova. The air shifts, the room distorts, and he’s gone as the bottomless black of the teleport wraps over me.
End: Need
Fall 2005
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