KHR Hell because fuck

[warmskies]

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[possedere]

I'm behaving, priest.

[Though for how long was anyone's guess. Probably as long as it took for him to polish off the sundae, humming happily the whole while, licking at the corners of his mouth for the stray chases of chocolate. He was comfortably full, and just about to polish off more of the wine when the priest showed such a flagrant sign of vulnerability that it was near impossible for Mukuro to ignore.

Setting the empty container down, he got up from the table ( movements slow and unsteady for some reason ), going to stand before Chikusa Kakimoto, eyes flashing in displeasure.]

How often do I need to tell you that you're mine before you believe it?

[The words were tightly controlled, but his movements were not. He reached forward to tip Chikusa Kakimoto's face up to met his gaze fully, his eyes burning.]

I will always return to you.

[kokuyoyo]

[Even with the unsteadiness to his body, something about Mukuro ensnares his attention, and all Chikusa can do is watch him with bated breath until the demon is right before him. Those fingers at his face- it's too easy to think of that one sinful time where those eyes had been burning for an entirely different reason and his whole body had quivered. He wants to shake like he had then, nod mutely, but no.]

[Instead, enraptured and breathless...]

...Then you'll come with me?

[Because the demon had never said yes or no either way. He'd been amused, but he hadn't said yes, and it's in anticipation of the answer that Chikusa can't tear his eyes away. Even as those words make something hot curl in his stomach... It's the words unsaid that keep him here.]

[possedere]

[It's a curious feeling, watching the utmost attention that the priest is giving him, as heady as the wine and far more rare and delectable. Even if Mukuro allowed it to age properly for centuries, undisturbed, in the finest caskets made of wood, he doubts he would ever get enough of it.

He leaned even closer, practically crawling up into the priest's lap, laughing softly ( if he knocked a few things over in his eagerness, surely it could be forgiven ).]

How can I refuse you anything?

[And hopefully that sentiment went both ways because Mukuro was going to seal their mouths together before Chikusa Kakimoto could even answer.]

[kokuyoyo]

[The part of him that's been taught to cast out demons says he should shove this one off, remind him that he can't just get everything he wants. Yet the hands that settle onto Mukuro's hips keep him there instead of shoving him away.]

[How can he stop himself? The demon always seems to do this to him after so much time spent away.... With no touch or contact to soothe his awakened desire for them. Really.... It's the most horrible thing the demon has done to him yet. Not the sin, or threats, or anything else, but simply for making him realize how much he wants and how hard.]

[So he leans into that kiss, electricity going up his spine at the taste of wine still so fresh on those lips. Kissing is still something he's a novice at- amazing that they've only done it a few times and yet it has such an effect on him. He does his best regardless, trying to edge his tongue in for more of that intoxicating taste.]

[possedere]

[How surprisingly pliant the priest had become to his advances during the time that Mukuro had been away, even going so far as to try to coax his mouth open. There was something endearing about how inexperienced he was, his eagerness more than making up for it. He found himself leaning forward, opening his mouth easily to give the priest better access, gasping softly against the other man's mouth.

Pleasure curled up lazily along his spine, soft and cottony, and it might have just been the good meal and the exhaustion over taking him, but for some reason he didn't feel any urgency in this. He wanted to take his time, to map out the priest, to greedily take all the affection and attention he was given and return more of it than he ever had before.

Gently, he cupped the priest's face in his hands, going to sit on his lap if he had no objections.]

[kokuyoyo]

[For ages, the demon has tried to make him feel... special. Desirable. More than once has he praised Chikusa's skills as an exorcist, claiming few humans are like him. They're all things he's ignored before. Demon's tongues are sly things- the first lesson a Christian learns. Even ignoring all the other evidence, that stood out most.]

[And yet where all those words have failed... Mukuro's soft gasp into his mouth pierces through so neatly, a full body shudder going from him up into the demon. It's just a part of sex, isn't it? This can't be unusual. And yet...]

[That weight settling along his lap finally has him draw his mouth away, eyes fogged over and wet lips panting softly.]

The kitchen-

[That's no place for... whatever this is.]

[possedere]

[My, but didn't the priest paint a tantalizing picture like this? Eyes glazed over with lust, mouth slick and parted, his warmth seeping into Mukuro's skin, hot enough to scald. He had forgotten how cold it was on this plane, and suddenly he wanted all the warmth that Chikusa Kakimoto could provide. He smirked in understanding at the priest's half-formed thought and sentence, nipping along his neck.]

The couch? The bed? Your expansive tub?

[Quite frankly, he would be fine with pushing everything off the table and fucking the priest on the table, but he could understand if the priest wanted some decorum for all of this. Christians did so prefer missionary didn't they, and proper etiquette.]

[kokuyoyo]

[Those teasing clever words can either drag him under, or snap him out of it, and he’s glad it’s the latter this time. A heavy crimson spreads along his cheeks as he snaps his mouth shut.]

I don’t think we’d be doing anything that requires the tub…. So stop getting ideas.

[But he guesses that’s impossible to ask, huh? Especially, he has to admit... in a position like this.]

[possedere]

[While Mukuro could think of at least ten things that would require the tub, he was fine with letting the priest believe what he liked.]

The bed then?

[Shamelessly, Mukuro shed his jacket, letting the garment fall to the floor, pressing a kiss against the priest's petulant mouth.]

What do you have in mind then, my cute little priest?

[kokuyoyo]

I-

[His words are stolen by that teasing and delectable mouth, Chikusa's eyes fluttering. A soft huff escapes him when the demon pulls away- good. He'd been about to take advantage of that hair of his if he hadn't stopped.]

I didn't have in mind anything.... You're the one who invited himself onto my lap.

[....But he doesn't push him off, fingers instead kneading into the shirt now no longer hidden by his jacket. It's the wine... He can blame his desire to keep the demon there on that, can't he?]

[possedere]

And you've been so hospitable.

[To make his point, Mukuro ground down lightly against him, smirking.

Still, as fine as he would be with riding the priest at his dinner table, he could appreciate the decorum and ritual and tradition that the priest undoubtedly would fine comfort in. So, despite the fact that he wasn't keen on doing so, he slid out of the priest's lap, instead gripping lightly at his wrist to tug him up.]

But for what I have in mind, I want you to be comfortable.

[kokuyoyo]

[Much like he had once upon a time in a dream, he feels a moan start to form in the pit of his lungs at Mukuro's weight on his cock, but he chokes it back. Summoning up his will, he gives his most annoyed stare at the demon.]

[This isn't like last time. There's no teeth lining marks all along his throat; he can hold back the noises he wants to make. For now, at any rate. He has no doubt Mukuro will try to change that in short order.]

[Despite his attempts, however, there's no fighting when the demon gets off of him, tugging him to his feet, and Chikusa stumbles slightly.]

What happened to dinner? Or you being exhausted... You're truly insatiable, aren't you?

[possedere]

[It was difficult to take the priest's glare seriously when he wasn't pushing him away or protesting, his eyes already glazed over with lust.

He moved towards the bedroom without abandon, chuckling lightly at the priest's line of questioning. Why waste the breath when he already knew the answer? He gently nudged the door of the bedroom open, turning back to meet the priest's surprisingly talkative mouth with a kiss, placing his hands possessively on his hips.]

It's only you that makes me this starved, priest. You should pay more attention to me.

[Not that it would make it any better, but hey, a demon had to try.]

[kokuyoyo]

[He wants to say more, the urge bubbling higher and higher in his chest with every step closer to his bedroom. Mukuro seals it with that kiss, steals all the breath away that could be used for protests, and the only hint of his uncertainty is the shy glance to his own bed.]

...You left me alone for a month, and I still immediately invited you over...

[So the demon can stuff it, frankly. If he were in a more exasperated mood, he'd think about what a child he's being, but.... It's hard to do so when the weight of a good couple decades' worth of Sunday school and preachers' condemnations is weighing down on him.]

[possedere]

My, my, missed me that much?

[It pleased him more than words could say that the priest had done so, that despite the many atrocious things he had done, that Chikusa Kakimoto still wanted him near. And would invite him with him on trips. While it was true they were work related and an argument could be made that Mukuro had a certain expertise in helping him, he doubted that was the reason.

For once, he didn't comment on the priest's hesitation, instead sitting down onto the bed, reaching out for the priest.]

Don't get shy now, Chikusa Kakimoto.

[kokuyoyo]

I needed to talk to you about the trip...

[It's not a lie. But does it make it worse, when he is inviting the demon along with him, when he feels his chest tighten at the thought of being away from him? Every bit of it makes him feel dirty, as though he hasn't bathed in days, and no amount of showers or baths has cleansed him.]

[The only thing to cleanse him would be to cut the demon out of his life completely... and yet here he is, tentatively setting his fingers in Mukuro's palm.]

That kind of request... It's unreasonable.

[Uncertain, he presses one knee onto the bed, and the other brushes against Mukuro's legs, half a straddle but not quite there yet.]

I don't know what you want from me...

[possedere]

Later.

[As much as Mukuro was keen to talk about the trip, and most importantly their sleeping arrangements, he might get the answers he wanted right now. He leaned up to kiss the priest again, laughing at his uncertainty and being called 'unreasonable'. He wound his fingers into the front of his shirt to drag him in closer, murmuring against his mouth.]

Haven't I told you over and over what I want from you Chikusa Kakimoto? By now you should be able to tell me.

[He slid his other hand up the priest's shirt, lashes lowered.]

What do I want from you, my cute little priest?

[kokuyoyo]

[His falls onto Mukuro's lap as the demon tugs him forward, knee falling onto the mattress, and he inhales sharply. This is a position he's been in before, albeit a reversal. With the hard arousal he can feel beneath him, pressing up against the very bottom of his shaft.... Unsure, nervous, his hands go to rest on Mukuro's shoulders. So close, it's easy to tell the way he's avoiding that piercing look.]

What you want from me.... is everything.

[Another shudder, spine curving as he can't help but roll his hips against the demon- from the confirmation of those words or that touch beneath his shirt, who knows? Because both...]

I shouldn't... Last time was a mistake.

[possedere]

[It was fine if the priest was trying to avoid his gaze so long as he wasn't trying to avoid his touch, his mouth, and his hips. He let out a soft moan when he felt the priest ground down against him, biting against his jawline.]

Yes.

[Because while Mukuro never tired of the sound of his own voice, it was different to have to repeat himself over and over when he knew he priest was far more intelligent than that.

He pulled him down even further, laying flat on the bed, smirking at that insinuation, head canted to the side, well aware how alluring he must look, face flushed and mouth slick with kisses.]

What about this time?

[kokuyoyo]

[He should know better. For years, he has been training to know better. Yet the demon tugs, and he follows, pitch hair cascading around his face as he looks down at the demon with dark eyes and shallow breath. It'd be a worse sin to lie and say he hasn't looked at pornographic images since the demon has come into his life, trying to learn, trying to understand. Yet to look down at the demon is to realize that nothing he's seen on the internet holds a candle to him.]

[Chikusa swallows, and finds his throat completely dry.]

I still shouldn't.... It's a sin to break my vows... Worse with a demon.

[So why does he reach down, fingers brushing so gently against the curve of that tempting face and sliding his hair back where it can't obstruct the view at all? He knows why... and yet the knowledge only makes his heart twist in his chest all the harder.]

[possedere]

[For someone who called this a mistake, Chikusa Kakimoto didn't seem to view it as such right now. The way he looked at him was far too tender, far too wanting, far too indecent for Mukuro to believe that the priest had any qualms about bedding him. Not when his hands were so gentle on his face, and Mukuro let out a soft sigh at the touch, leaning into it slightly. He let his gaze meet the priest's a small smile curling at the edges of his lips.]

Would it be so terrible to be with me?

[There was more he could say, but for once, it felt like far too much work to use words, not when it was just as easy to grip the priest's clothes and draw him in for another kiss, letting this one linger sweetly.]

[kokuyoyo]

[It would be both terrible and agonizingly wonderful- Chikusa knows this already. He's perhaps known this for a while now- even as far back as that first tempting kiss that's haunted his dreams ever since it was laid upon his lips and which Mukuro once again bestows upon them. Helplessly, he goes soft against it.]

[This is one of the worst mistakes he could ever make. If only he could fight better against it.]

[AS their lips part, Chikusa doesn't stray far, his mouth brushing against the Mukuro's jawline and down along the hollow of his throat. It's there he makes a confession.]

I don't know what to do...

[Moral crisis or virgin inexperience? Who knows.]

[possedere]

[For someone who could vanquish demons as easily as breathing, the priest could be so damnably gentle. Mukuro sighed softly before he was aware of the movement, eyes fluttering halfway closed as the priest mapped out his jaw, then his throat. Obligingly, he turned his head to allow him more access, letting out a small noise of encouragement. Pinned between the priest's warmth and the engulfing comfort of the bed, head swimming with wine and the exhaustion that was built into his bones, he almost didn't catch that small confession.

Comfortingly, he ran a hand along the priest's spine, ready to offer him a platitude, to tell him what exactly he could do but-

Sleep took him before he knew what was happening. Someone was going to wake up pissed.]

[kokuyoyo]

[How strange it is, watching and feeling the demon be so compliant beneath him. Aren't their positions usually reversed? The demon pinning him against his own door to make him moan, or settling on his lap with that self satisfied smirk to grind down on him teasingly... Now here he is so soft and quiet. Well, it's not like Chikusa would ever complain about the latter. So he enjoys the moment for it is, whatever is past his choking heart, and savors the feel of Mukuro's smooth skin beneath his lips. The pulse he feels at his mouth is so much more calm than his own; he tries to focus on it as if it'll help.]

[When that hand smooths along his spine, his heart nearly bursts out of his chest, and Chikusa frezes with his nose nuzzling at Mukuro's throat. Breathlessly, he waits for instruction, for teasing, for- anything at all, really.]

[And what does he get in the end? A completely limp still hand, and breathing even slower than what it had already been.]

[For a second, he doesn't quite understand, and Chikusa raises his head with a couple of confused blinks. Did he really- He did. The demon really did fall asleep on him. All that, that flirting, and the wine, and sitting on his god damn lap in the kitchen, and.... This is what happens? For a second, all he can do is look offended as he gestures at the snoozing demon beneath him, a small annoyed noise squeaking out from his throat.]

[He can't believe this.]

[There's nothing else to do about it. Definitely not sulking or in disbelief, Chikusa gently slides Mukuro's arm from around his back and leaves his own bedroom. There's still dinner to finish; he wouldn't have bothered with the whole thing if he'd known this is what would happen. At least it's good food he tries to enjoy, after he puts away the remnants of the sundae. The wine he leaves out. In fact, when he finishes his glass, he doesn't bother to refill it. Straight from the bottle does just fine, thank you. If he wanders around with it, even leaning against the doorframe to glower at the stupid and inane and dumb demon that's been trying to tempt him into breaking his vows this whole time.... Listen. It's his apartment. No one else is watching him.]

[When he's had his fill of wine, Chikusa sighs and gets to getting his apartment back in order. Wine, plugged. Leftovers, refrigerated. He even slips back into his bedroom to slide Mukuro's shoes off, and goes through the whole annoying process of tucking him into the blankets. Only God knows if he grumbles. While it's a tempting thing to leave his alarm set to give the demon a rude awakening.... He takes one look at that sleeping face and sighs before turning it off.]

[Love your enemies, and all that. His phone alarm will do well enough, something he makes sure to set up before draping his long frame across the length of the couch.]

[Morning comes early for him, and full of headaches and a dry throat besides. Chikusa nearly forgets why he's pushing himself off of the couch. Going into his room to change gives him a good enough reminder, at least, with the demon still curled up in Chikusa's own bed and sound asleep. It's with a sigh that he leaves some painkillers and a tall glass of water on the bedside table, even when getting his own. The demon is ridiculous enough on his own. Chikusa can only imagine what he's like with a hangover. The only unfortunate thing is that he won't be there to keep an eye on him; he has work to attend to regardless of his physical condition. A quick note to take the painkillers, rest, and not do anything is left with the glass, and then Chikusa takes off for work.]

[Hopefully he doesn't come back to any messes, or worse nonsense.]

[possedere]

[Believe you him, if there was anyone who was truly being punished for all of this, it was Mukuro. Not only had he lost out on a rare chance at taking advantage of the priest's vulnerability, but his head was a mess when he awoke the next afternoon. When he tried to open his eyes, it hurt. Just moving slightly hurt. His whole body felt odd and leaden, but his head and mouth was the worst of it. Was this what people referred to as a hangover? It had been a while since he had inhabited a human body, and he had forgotten that they were just as weak and pitiful as always.

He kept flicking in and out of consciousness in an attempt to run away from the harshness of it. It probably wouldn't be until the priest was on his way home that he finally sucked it up, sitting up slowly to drink the water and take the medicine that the priest so thoughtfully left him before curling back into bed.

Later, when the full weight of the opportunities he had lost hit him ( seeing how far he could have pushed the priest last night and exploring his sketchbooks unhindered today ), he would be more upset, but for now, he waited impatiently for the medicine to kick in.

But he wasn't without manners. Near the end of the day he would muster up the will to text something short and sweet for once, looking at the bright screen proving to be too difficult for too long.]

Thank you.