Title: The Need (3/3)
Rating/Genre: Romance/SMUT/NC-17 (for slash/yaoi, bloodplay, HJ, oral, anal, and foul language.)
Summary: The days are blistering, the nights are freezing, and there is nothing but sand as far as the eye can see. A series of unfortunate events forces Sin and Draca through the Sanora Desert, and it quickly goes from bad to worse. Draca has miscalculated his blood supply and is on the verge of Vampyric starvation! And unfortunately, Sin is the only living being around! Couple that with a suppressed attraction flying between them, and disaster is just waiting to happen! Or... is it?
Time Line: Fall of 2467 A.S. One year after And So He Watches.
Ages: Sin – 467 years; Draca – 112 years; Gwen – 27 years; Kyris – 51 years
Standard Effin' Disclaimer: This is SLASH. Otherwise known as YAOI. If you don't know what either of those mean, you obviously shouldn't be reading this. If you do, and are not a fan of it, how in the hell did you end up here?
The Need - Final Part
Draca drifted sluggishly back into consciousness – groggy, lethargic, and his body exhibiting all the telltale symptoms of a night of fantastic sex. He could have purred he was so content, the memories of the night before answering his own questions. The warmth of the form next to him was absolutely wonderful – his body curling closer on reflex. The smell of sex and something fantastic that he couldn't quite name was in his nose. Only when he became more alert did he realize that his face was buried in raven hair, and he nuzzled closer. His body was slowly waking, though he couldn't understand why. He didn't want to move, his embrace on his partner (lover? Maybe?) tightening.
It was only then that he noticed that said body was shifting in his grip – obviously the reason he awoke. The shifting intensified as Sin seemed to realize that he was awake. "Mm?" he uttered sleepily. Hiding was no use.
The Vampyre grunted as an elbow dug painfully into his sternum, forcing him to let go. The source of warmth wrenched away from him.
"... absolutely disgusting!"
That snapped him awake. Draca opened both eyes, his expression immediately dark. "What?" His mind whirled with confusion and fury. Sin thought what they had done was disgusting? He couldn't have. He'd even agreed that there would be a next time for this! Draca's mouth opened of its own accord, a venomous retort clawing its way up his throat.
"I said," Sin cut him off, sitting up, "That I feel absolutely disgusting." Ruby eyes raked over his spirit. "What did you think I said?"
The thief shut his mouth with an audible click, anger fading in light of bewilderment. 'What the hell?' he thought.
The answer came to him as he got a good look at his partner. The Fallen Angel was sitting upon the traveling cloak come temporary bed, naked as the day he was born and bearing a grimace of disgust. But he wasn't shooting the look at Draca. Rather, Sin was staring down at himself, inspecting his body and his arms carefully held so that they weren't touching any other part of his body. The man shifted, winced (though it didn't seem to be from pain), and then snarled.
With a flash of sheer amusement, Draca realized exactly what the man had meant. They had been traveling through the desert for roughly two weeks, where the dust and sand and heat seemed to seep through clothes and stick to skin. Combined with the grimy feeling of old sweat and the evidence of last night's activities...
Well, Draca certainly felt less than clean, himself.
He hid his face into the worn cloth beneath him, choking down the laughter rising in his chest. The fact that this bothered Sin didn't surprise him in the least. The man was almost obsessively neat and organized. But seeing Sin be so fussy over it...
"That's too bad," he remarked, raising his head. He just had to see how badly Sin would react, "because there's no chance of a bath until we get through the Deadlands. You'll just... have to stay like that until then."
Sin looked utterly mortified.
Draca couldn't hide his laughter anymore. He absolutely howled. It echoed off the walls of their shelter, paralyzing him where he lay. He laughed so hard that his sides ached, his arms coming up to wrap around his stomach in an attempt to soothe it.
"You find this funny?" There was a note of danger in Sin's voice. One that was commonly used to scare others into doing Sin's bidding. Too bad for the seraph – that had never worked on Draca.
"Oh, unbelievably," he managed to choke between barks of laughter.
Sin snarled at him once more and forced himself unsteadily to his feet. He stepped over Draca and walked, still nude, to the little hut's entrance stairs.
"Hey!" Draca's laughter died instantly, his body already breaking out in gooseflesh from the night chill. The thief started to shiver. "Where the hell're you goin'?" He wanted Sin back to keep him warm.
"To get the water collector we set up earlier and at least wash some of this off."
"Y-You can't do that! We need that water!"
"Not all of it."
"You might not, but I do! Not everyone has that Glyph of yours Sin! Hey!"
The assassin wasn't listening, starting up the stairs.
"Hey! Godamnit, get your bare ass back here!"
Shadows shot from the walls, wrapping about Sin's middle and pulled, catapulting him back across the room. Draca caught his stumbling partner about the waist, tugging him down into his arms once more – immediately curling around the warm body.
"D-Draca, let go! Damnit, you're filthy!" There was another enraged, disgusted noise from the struggling seraph. "I'm filthy! Let go!"
The Vampyre laughed, hauled the man up, and kissed him deeply. As expected (and planned), Sin went silent. "Yes, I'm filthy, you're filthy, water can't be wasted in the desert, and it's fucking cold. So you're staying here."
Sin seemed to finally find his voice, squirming in his grasp. "It's the middle of the night, idiot. It's not going to get any better."
Draca ignored the dismissal, snuggling close to the Fallen Angel. 'It already is,' he retorted silently. He settled the man against him more comfortably, tugging his duster back over them and burying his head into the crook of Sin's neck. "Mm... a few more hours. It's warm."
There was a long silence. But just when he thought Sin was about to start protesting again, the seraph's form abruptly relaxed. "Fine..." the voice close to his ear was grudging, "but as soon as we escape the Deadlands, I'm making a hot spring."
"Making a hot spring? Can you do that?"
Sin hummed, the sound vibrating in his throat. He was already sounding drowsy again. "Alchemist. It's not difficult." Draca smirked against Sin's honey-toned skin, his mind providing him with various scenarios of what that could bring. Perhaps "next time" wouldn't be as far off as he thought.
"...pervert." Sin apparently guessed his thoughts.
The grin widened. 'Caught me.' He chuckled tiredly, sleep creeping up on him once more.
'Just a few more hours...'
"Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust, like diamonds we are cut by our own dust."
Walk on, Traveler of Worlds.
And that would be the omake-esque end to this tale. XD
Thanks for reading! 'Til next time, all!