swordhardy | NOCT OVERFLOW

[ goosebumps trail after the caress of rokurou's fingers, a tingling sensation that he's grown so intimately familiar with the more they have moments like this around each other. it's always hard to explain what it is he's feeling whenever something like this happens, but it's a pleasant experience all the same, something he once thought was previously unattainable given who he is and what he's done.

meeting rokurou, of course, has helped him reshape that mindset into something better, and nowadays, even if it's a tiny inkling, he can start to believe this closeness is something he deserves to have. that this flutter in his chest is all because rokurou called him special and he can find truth in how the daemon says it. ]

Then, I'll take all of them— and give you all of me in return.

[ when he says it, that's the exact moment the tip of the blade pierces rough ridges. he doesn't have any doubt in his mind that this will be a messy execution, given the texture he's working with, but he tries to be precise with his strokes, quick and clean as he carves out his name just as rokurou wanted. it's not six that he leaves behind, not the title he'd been given as a member of the eternals, but xing, the very same he's forgotten about but is now slowly coming to accept.

he doesn't think it'll ever fit him, to be someone's light in the dark skies, but he doesn't mind leaving this piece of him on rokurou's skin. it's almost like sealing a promise — an eternal bond that binds them to each other given that a scar is eternal, but he likes the sound of that.

there's no stopping the faint blush on his cheeks over the thought of it. ]

... I'm almost done.

[ a quiet phrase to break him out of his thoughts before he spirals. no need to go any further with that kind of sentiment, no matter how much he likes it. ]

[ Pain blooms on the edge of that knife. It cuts into his skin and breaks it open; blood beads and drips, a slow tread down the hard line of his collarbone and then chest. Brilliant against tan, as ruby as the stone embedded into his hip—the daemon's pupils dilate at the initial pierce, breath quickening on sharper inhale that evens out as Six works.

Ache spreads. A webbed throb, sting from air touching split-smile wounds. Precise work but messy work; the daemon's eyelids flutter, lips thin, chin nods up in small motion beneath Six's ministrations. A willing victim leaving himself open beneath cutting motion, accepting each of the knife's lashes while gazing up. Not completely unwavering—where his emotions are dulled, his physical sensations enhanced—but always returning to look at the erune's face.

Especially when he catches that blush. Reaching up, he thumbs along pink cheek. Slow, as not to disturb the blade that carves into his body, jagging along the man and monster to claim both.

More than pain, there's excitement. Exhillaration. Rokurou's always had a taste for blood and violence, a penchant that reaches bony fingers into how he understands intimacy as well. Accepting pain, reveling in it, relishing who is doing it and why .... beneath the folds of his hakama, Rokurou's cock hardens, half-mast just from the deft manner in which Six prints his given name.

The urge to reach down and stoke himself is strong but the daemon ignores it, afraid it might pause Six's hand. ]

Take your time. [ smile quirking on his mouth, ] And kiss it better when you're done.

[ the erune feels so ridiculous by how easily distracted he is with the thought of promising eternity with rokurou, so much that he almost falters with every stroke he makes. thankfully he's a tad bit more behaved than the daemon so he's able to bring his focus back, taking care not to make this any more painful than it has to be. he does, at least, take the time to lean into rokurou's touch, wanting the daemon to feel the warmth on his cheeks as it spreads.

he doesn't have much more to write; just the last few strokes and then he's done. all that's left is cleaning up the mess he left behind because there is more blood than he expected, but he honestly should have seen this coming, given that he chose to ruin the blight where it's toughest.

it's all done now at least, leaving him to admire what's left behind. the scarring it'll leave behind shouldn't be ugly by any means, but the wound does look a bit concerning right now...

at least that means he isn't likely to notice rokurou's arousal just yet. ]

Of course you would ask for something like that.

[ rolling his eyes, he does bring himself closer to where he'd left his mark to kiss it gently despite knowing better. he pulls away with a bit of blood clinging to his lips, something he licks away in front of rokurou's line of sight.

there's no way the daemon missed him doing that. ]

Better?

[ Blade cuts into his flesh. Seemingly so different on the surface, metal quickly proves that black and tan both part and weep red when mangled. Beading, dripping, stinging—the daemon's back arches when the knife's point digs in to carve another stroke. Hard gasp, bodily shudder. Pain needles and knits, winding itself around bone and tugging taut thread through tissue.

Teeth dig into soft bottom lip in a restraining bite as adam's apple bobs, keening sound teetering on the cusp of every breath. Suhh suhh suhh—excitement pinballs against jailing ribcage, knocking into every single bar. Chest rising and falling with quicker breaths, the daemon blinks, ignoring the knotting tension contracting in his gut and hardening his cock. But ignoring means nothing with each purposeful stroke; skin flushing, blood rushes south and leaves the swordsman in dizzy color-spotted aftertrail.

Fingers twitch toward the band of his pants, but wrists weigh them down where they rest on his belly. So close—but too far, motion sure to draw the erune's eye. So Rokurou hunkers down: nerves crawl with pain bending pleasure, sweat sheens down his back and nape, erection throbs and begins to bead enough precum to darken the front of his pants.

Six's hand stills and Rokurou mentally commends himself for that restraint. That gaping wound hurts, air's brush burning against tender flesh. He's about to shift to move (and maybe bolt to the bathroom) when the erune bows, downy hair tickling against the daemon's throat as warm lips move over the pulse of that fresh gouge. A soft sensation in contrast to sharp twinge; spiced honey overflows, muddles through his system and short-circuits his brain. ]

—ngh.

[ Blood-stained lips are the simple tap to push him over; toes curling, the daemon chokes out a strangled sound, head falling back as he comes—untouched.

Panting, the mismatched eyes that keep rapt focus on the erune's crimson-smeared mouth are unfocused and blurry. ]

Ah, ha—y-yeah....

[ Maybe he won't realize? ]

[ perhaps if six hadn't been born and raised as an assassin, then he wouldn't realize what just happened. if his senses weren't so overtuned to the point where it's hard to believe he's capable of such, then he wouldn't have picked up on the fact that something so intimately familiar to him just happened. he can see the way rokurou's body tenses, the way it relaxes immediately after...

his ears twitch, mostly out of disbelief than pure irritation. ]

... Rokurou.

[ if only it was possible to put a buttload of venom in how he says his name. it might be capable of killing this stupid, incorrigible daemon otherwise.

the moment is ruined. whatever magic that had bewitched him with the prospects of their 'eternal' bond is now quickly replaced by something that shamelessly reaches for the other man's crotch, mostly to check. there it is — wet fabric, sticky, messy. he knows exactly what just happened. ]

Why are you like this?

[ he wants to struggle this man sometimes. except now he's convinced rokurou will like that to happen. ]

I don't know.

[ While scrubbing a hand over his face, for one of the few times in his life, the daemon has the grace to look embarrassed. Pink stains his cheeks; a light shade that blotches against tan, unused to being there. Honey continues to drip through his body, sweet afterglow melding with the pulse-beat of that carving. So good. So damn good that he can't say anything in his own defense, hand cupping over his expression the only affordable shielding.

Seriously ... he hadn't even meant for it to go this way when he had asked. The scar was something he wanted as a keepsake—his own masochism forgotten in light of gaining something permanent from Six. Forgotten but unavoidable, that natural taste for violence going in either direction so strong that it's managed to pervade what would have been an otherwise intimate moment. ]

It just—happened. It felt good, and then you looked like that, with the blood, and the kiss... [ He waves his free hand in the air, fingers flagging back and forth, ] .... I've always liked it—some pain, especially if it's with something that's pleasurable. Guess I'm weak to it when they're together like that...

[ even as rokurou explains himself, the look of disbelief never leaves six's face at all. it grows even more unsure, eyes narrowed in a way that keeps the exasperation in high levels. he would shake his head too, but he figures the way he's looking at rokurou right now says it all. ]

I see.

[ not really, but it'll have to do. rokurou seems to be embarrassed enough as it is so he won't say anything more. ]

... I'll go get towels.

[ with the moment ruined, he shuffles away from rokurou and off the bed to head for the bathroom. at least grabbing fresh towels from underneath the sink will give him some time to regain his composure, because not even someone like him can resist reacting when rokurou came undone like that. one good look at the mirror says it all too: his face is flushed, pink all the way to the base of his ears. an embarrassing sight if rokurou had noticed it.

taking his time might also be a dead giveaway too, but he says nothing even as he comes back to where rokurou lies, starting to wipe the daemon clean off the excess blood.

(he'd forgotten to clean himself up back there, dried blood still clinging to his lips.) ]

[ To his credit, by the time Six returns he's managed to drag up into proper sitting position. Watching, he leans back onto his hands as the erune drags the rag across his chest, pressing over the bleeding tallies that make up the characters of his name. His real name, the one given at birth—laden with the wishes of his parents. Complicated as the erune's history might be, that's something Rokurou believes despite the Rangetsu having the exact opposite tradition. Numbers for children, because they were expected to earn everything else after.

Mismatched eyes scan. They absorb the flush of the erune's skin and the way his ears lowered, the way strong hands move, the purse serious of bloodied lips complimenting the pink flush of cheeks. Brushing over knuckles, Rokurou presses his palm to the back of the erune's hand to stop the scrub and holding it in his while he leans in to press their lips together.

It isn't a demanding kiss. Tentative, light, almost chaste in its press until his tongue sweeps forward to curl over where blood's begun to dry. Metalic tang tickles his tastebuds, sparking new electric surge through an otherwise post-orgasm languid body. ]

... I came because it's you, you know.

[ A grit up against Six's lips before he drags the flat of his tongue fully across the erune's mouth in a sordid lick. ]

[ the distraction barely helps.

by the time he tends to rokurou, the daemon had already figured him out. his mouth parts open in a slight gasp when rokurou stills his movements, leaning closer to snag their lips together in a kiss. it's unlike the ones they've shared plenty of times, curious, exploratory, as if testing boundaries that have long been torn apart. he is reminded of the blood when he tastes it along the swipe of rokurou's tongue, lavender eyes widening.

because it's you, rokurou tells him. this idiot man makes it his responsibility as to why he couldn't hold himself back from coming undone. ]

Why do you have to put it that way—

[ his blush deepens, and yet his resolve strengthens because of what he just heard. when rokurou leans in closer again, six grabs him by the waist to pull him towards another kiss. more demanding this time, hungrier. when he bites down on the man's bottom lip, it's a warning of what's to come. ]

You stupid, stupid daemon.

[ and then he kisses him once more, hands reaching up to get lost in inky black hair. ]

—hfff.

[ Rokurou exhales shortly from his noise; pleasure prickles at the arms around his waist, a snug weight that he leans into while tilting his head into that kiss.

Fingers find their way into his hair, combing sensation drawing a soft sigh against the erune's lips. A brief break before he delves back in, meeting their mouths in wet click, tongue sweeping across the seam of Six's lips. Relishing the sweet taste and how Synchrony sparks between them with every press, a powerful flow between them.

He's always loved Six's hands. Their strength, their restraint. Every callus. Every fingernail. The more they touch, the more the daemon leans in. Following them, seeking their attention, sighing again and again into the meld of their mouths. Eventually he reaches up, brushing fingers along one of Six's wrists before easing up to a palm. Threading their fingers together, Rokurou clasps their hands, giving an affectionate squeeze.

Bringing their joined hands between them, Rokurou breaks the kiss to press his lips over each one of the erune's knuckles. ]

[ it's almost frustrating how rokurou doesn't need to say anything but still manages to find a way to make six's heart skip a beat or two. the way he kisses him, again and again, is such a simple act and yet it's capable of stealing his breath away no matter how he does it. even worse when the daemon twines their fingers together, holding on for a split-second before he brings their hands together closer to plant kisses on every knuckle.

the flush on the erune's face deepens, unable to hide his embarrassment for much longer. he's so flustered that he can't even think straight anymore, but he tries to say something anyway. anything at all, just so he doesn't have to focus on the fact that he's slowly dying on the inside.

(why does he make it so easy for rokurou—) ]

... That's cheating.

[ breathless, but still clear enough to be heard.

he tries to turn the tide back in his favour by pulling rokurou in again so it's easier to start leaving lovebites down his blight, teeth snagging against skin with each mark left behind. his hips jerk forward to create friction between them, even though he knows rokurou is likely still way too sensitive given his earlier orgasm. ]

—that's cheating.

[ Teeth tickle over blight and warmth curls, sensation rooted in his core stretching its fingers out to the tips of his fingers and toes. Each little lovebite draws a breath, earns a sigh, eyelashes fluttering in on cresting jolts of excitement. A point of weakness that he leans into, giving Six more control as he lifts his chin and relishes the lash of mouth over cragged black.

Pressing his weight forward to lean into that mean friction— ]

Keep, ah. Keep... cheating.

[ Every grind borders on almost too much; flush and pink warm the daemon's cheeks as his breathing labors into weighted pants.

While Six continues to use his mouth, Rokurou moves to do the same—head falling forward in a wave of inky black, the curve of his mouth moves over shoulder and muscle, in toward the hollow of Six's throat and up. Kissing, mouthing, before he settles over a spot to really sink his teeth into and tattoo red in splotch and prick. ]

[ rokurou encourages him to keep cheating so that's exactly what he'll do. with every mark left behind, six answers them with a kiss, followed by another, and then one more. he can't see the proof against cragged black but he knows it's affecting rokurou regardless, weighted pants urging him to keep doing it again and again.

he pauses every now and then to let out a strained noise, just as equally affected by the daemon's ministrations. his body shudders with the hint of friction on their groins, grinding harder and harder to bring them much closer to the edge. he can feel the wetness of rokurou's earlier release against his trousers but that just turns him on, reminds him that he's the reason why rokurou came undone in the first place.

he'll be the reason again that rokurou cums twice. he'll make sure of it.

slow and steady, wordless as he keeps going. there's only goal he wants to achieve. ]

[ Six's mouth makes focusing difficult. Though Rokurou's lips and teeth work over skin, the hitches of breath and the shivers of pleasure continue to rack. Beat beat beat—the strokes from the knife Six used to carve his character into his flesh throbs in tandem, blended ache going bone deep and chafing against the tenor of oversensitivity.

Peeling away from that brilliant fresh mark with a wet pop, Rokurou succumbs, head falling back while he rolls his hips forward. Broken shards of rasp-touched voice fall—needling at first, but quickly weighting with harder, deeper drag. ]

Hah, hn, that's .... fuh, Six—... muh, more...

[ Desperation whitens normally ruddy knuckles as he grasps onto the other man, arms a lock as he hurriedly rocks. It hurts, it feels good, it hurts, it feels good, it hurts, it feels good. One and the same, because there's no line between them anymore. For a Yaksha, it was already thin to begin with. ]

I want, mn—more.

[ Blindly, he grasps for Six's wrist, greedily trying to push the erune's hand down the front of his damp trousers. ]

[ rokurou isn't the only one who is struggling to keep focus, but six tries his best to power through everything the daemon does. every shiver, every soft sigh — they're all inconsequential once rokurou starts begging him for more. he allows the other man to guide where his hand rests, and once his fingers make contact, he starts palming hard.

a few strokes, careful ministrations, but that only lasts for a short while before he slips under the daemon's trousers. skin on skin feels so much better since he can feel just how heated rokurou is now, makes it so much easier to slick his fingers with cum to help with his strokes. ]

Tell me— tell me what you want and I'll give you everything.

[ low and husky, whispered against tanned skin.

he picks up the pace while he continues to mark rokurou up in places that will be difficult to hide later on. ]

NOCT OVERFLOW

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