Title: Of Filth, Hot Springs, and Next Times That Come too Soon (1/1)
Author:
ANT-chan
Rating/Genre:
Romance/SMUT/NC-17 (for slash, sex, bloodplay, HJ, anal, and foul language.)
Summary:
Poor Sin... all he wanted was a bath.
Time Line:
Fall of 2467 A.S Three days after The Need.
Ages:
Sin – 467 years; Draca – 112 years; Gwen – 27 years; Kyris – 51 years

It's that time again: This is SLASH. It said so right in the summary. If you don't like it or can't stand it, please don't read this just to spout off about how you hate it. That's just being ridiculous. =]


Of Filth, Hot Springs, and Next Times That Come too Soon

"Obscenity is a cleansing process, whereas pornography only adds to the musk."


The bastard was laughing at him. Again.

The quiet, nearly concealed chuckles were perfectly discernible to his sensitive ears, just as distinct as the purposely heavy footfalls some five steps ahead of him. His Sight had collapsed long ago due to the draining properties that saturated every aspect of the Deadlands, leaving him in complete darkness. It sent his other senses into overdrive. His entire body was buzzing, his nerves trying desperately to gather information about his surroundings. The air was stale and dead – the ground beneath his feet bare and rock hard. His limbs were beginning to feel heavy, his strength gradually being sapped by the Deadlands. The world was completely silent, save for the footfalls of his partner and the man's damned laughter.

Sin winced, a barely audible whine of disgust worming past his lips as his clothes tore stickily from his skin as he walked. Repulsed, he nearly stopped in his tracks – wanting both to refuse to move any further and to walk faster to escape the hellhole known as the Deadlands as soon as possible. The chuckles ahead of him became louder, uncontrollable. He resisted the urge to maim the man. Barely.

He felt absolutely filthy – was absolutely filthy. By the Hopes, all he wanted was a damned bath.

It had been nearly three full days since that incident (he refused to let himself even think about it until he was clean). In a single day they had struggled their way out of the Sanora Desert, and were drawing a close on their second day in the Deadlands. And with their barely adequate water supply, he'd had no chance to cleanse his flesh of the act.

A shudder of disgust ripped through him at the very thought.

The seraph's deterred need of a bath did nothing to improve his already sour mood. He utterly despised the Deadlands. The place not only deprived him of his Sight, but his Alchemy and strength as well. It was the reason Sin usually avoided them at all costs, but this time it was inevitable. The Fallen Angel was reduced to stumbling around in the stifling darkness – all the while cursing the employer who summoned them across the damned continent and the sailor whose ship decided to get damaged in a storm, preventing them from simply rounding the coast.

But even in his foul mood, there was a small part of Sin that was glad that the damned ship had nearly sunk. After all, if they had taken it around the continent, Draca wouldn't have nearly starved for blood. And if that had never happened...

"Hey." The heavy footfalls stopped, replaced with a tired, naturally sly male voice. Sin, too, halted, shaken from his thoughts. In light of the loss of his Sight, Draca had taken the lead – allowing the assassin to follow the sound of his footsteps through the suffocating blackness. It was a common occurrence between them. When Sin's Sight failed, the Vampyre would lead him through his footsteps. Draca was never permitted to physically lead him. It was a barrier of pride, not to be crossed.

"Hm?" His own voice sounded strange to his ears through the black world of blindness.

"I can see the end of the Deadlands up ahead."

Unadulterated joy swept through him, and he fought not to let it show on his face. But something had to have slipped through, because the thief started chuckling again – this time not even attempting to suppress them. Damn him.

Rather than releasing his ire onto his partner, he forced his eyes to stare forward pointedly. "Straight ahead?" he asked.

"Mmmhm."

"Obstacles?"

"You mean like that twenty foot ravine and that river over to the left?" The Fallen Angel raised an eyebrow, and heard Draca snort. "Please. It's the Deadlands for fuck's sake! It's completely flat and empty. Not even a gopher hole for you to-"

The tail end of the sentence died away as he took off like a shot, the ground nearly disappearing under his speed. But the outright wicked laughter clearly reached his ears. For once he didn't care. He dashed across the dead plains like a madman. He wanted out.

After what seemed like an eternity, the barren ground changed into lush grass, a noticeable difference beneath Sin's feet. The assassin slid to a stop, letting himself fall onto his back upon the ground, breathing a deep sigh of sheer relief. The air was no longer stale, but smelled alive, fresh, and of pine. The grass was cool against his skin, soothing. Somewhere off in the distance, a forest bird called shrilly. His Sight was already returning, dim shades of living Color beginning to dance before his eyes. Everything was so alive – no longer the silence and death of the Deadlands.

'Free.' It was so good to be free again.

Footsteps interrupted his contented musings, drawing near. A dim flash of familiar Color swept across his vision, followed by a soft laugh. "I don't think I've ever seen you run that fast," said the Vampyre.

Sin gave a vague grunt, saying nothing. He turned away from his partner, a wave of embarrassment washing over him. He must have looked like an idiot, running blindly across the Deadlands. The beast that was Pride shuddered within him, and hissed as sky blue amusement painted Draca's form.

The assassin forced himself to stand, already missing the cool grass against his back. They had come out on the forested edge of the Deadlands. The trees closest to him stood out pale, glowing gray to his eyes. Beside him, Draca's form suddenly blurred, tendrils of black and violet reaching out in all directions. The Vampyre's shadows were scouting the area, something that he did often. Sin was content to let him without interruption, as his thoughts were elsewhere.

On the thought of... a bath, for instance.

As soon as they came across a clearing, he was going to make someplace to bathe even if it knocked him unconscious to do it. A flash of golden laughter tinged with orange shock and blue amusement at his side caused him to glance up. He could practically feel the grin radiating from his partner. His eyes narrowed.

"What?" he asked warily.

The shock faded, but the amusement and laughter intensified to shining proportions. Draca gestured vaguely to the forest. "I found something," he said, and Sin heard the faint hint of exhaustion there. The Deadlands had affected Draca just as much as it had him. "C'mon, this way." The Vampyre strode off towards the forest, his body like a bright rainbow of Color against the glowing gray of the trees. When Sin didn't follow, the man turned. "You coming?"

Sin failed to keep the suspicious frown from his face. "What is it?"

Yellow-green annoyance danced before his eyes, and he heard Draca sigh. In four long strides the thief was standing before him again. "You'll like it, I swear. Come on." And the Vampyre reached out to grab Sin's hand, dragging him forward with an added tug.

The Fallen Angel's eyes widened, his heart abruptly leaping into his throat and his heels digging into the ground. He resisted desperately, trying to free his hand. But Draca's hold was firm, his Vampyric strength making the task appear effortless. With another tug, Sin stumbled forward. "L-Let go-!" he exclaimed, ashamed at the panicked note in his voice. His pride howled like a wounded beast. He would not be led around like an invalid!

The wave of painted emotion emanating from his partner quelled his anger and indignation, but failed to rid him of the discomfort of the situation. Yellow-green, gold, and a curious mix of gray-blue and lavender. The slight annoyance at his reaction was to be expected, but the joyous laughter and the Colors of resigned affection he Saw there left him momentarily speechless.

Suddenly the annoyance and resignation dimmed, gold and lavender radiating. "You're... blushing?" Sin became abruptly aware of the slight heat to his face. To his horror, it intensified. "You are!"

His embarrassed sputters were cut short when Draca pulled him close by his captive hand. The thief's other hand slithered around his waist to settle on the opposite hip. Thin lips captured his own for a mere moment, but Sin could feel the grin on those lips and the laughter rumbling in the Vampyre's chest. They left him in the next instant. Sin blinked, bewildered. "W-What..."

'What are you doing?'

As if the man could hear his thoughts, he answered. "Trying to see how red I can make you turn." Draca's grinning face was still inches from his own, studying him. "It's working quite well, actually."

"Asshole," the assassin growled, redoubling his struggles against Draca's grip. The Vampyre snickered, drawing away from him. But rather than release his hand, the thief continued to beckon him towards the forest with insistent tugs of his hand. For a few moments, Sin refused to move. The feeling of Draca's hand wrapped around his own made his skin crawl in discomfort. He relented finally, albeit reluctantly. He couldn't escape – so what else could he do but follow?

The forest interior was deep and cool, the smell of pine and damp earth was stronger there. Sin let Draca lead him between the trees, trying to hide his tension and discomfort. He knew he was failing at it, for every time the Vampyre's long fingers would so much as twitch against his, Sin would unconsciously flinch and attempt to pull away. He felt crowded – almost like he was suffocating. Draca was just too close. He didn't need to be led around by the hand. There was a shameful heat to his face that wouldn't fade, no matter how hard he fought it. Why wouldn't Draca let go?

The seraph tried not to think about it anymore, instead focusing on anything and everything but the cool fingers held in his own. He watched the forest around them as the two outlaws traveled deeper and deeper through it. The air around them was a cool autumn breeze – no longer the comfortable warmth of the Haven. The deeper they went, the more he caught the signs of autumn creeping in: the crunch of fallen leaves beneath his feet; the too-sweet smell of decomposing plant life.

Draca's hand in his was cool, close to cold – almost the same temperature as the air around them. It had been three days since the Vampyre had fed, and while the blood Sin had given him was given freely, the draining effects of the Deadlands had all but negated that effect of Sin's gift. The man would need to feed again soon.

The seraph started, realizing the path his thoughts had taken too late to stop it. 'Damn,' Sin silently cursed. Why were his thoughts so out of control? He'd been perfectly able to block such things out before that night in the desert. This had never happened to Sin before. Simply having sex with a person had never-

"We're here!" The Vampyre stopped at the edge of what appeared to be a break in the trees. His hand was released – sending a wave of relief through him – and was gestured to step forward. Hesitantly, he did so – moving out from the trees.

They were indeed in a clearing somewhere deep in the forest. The pale shades of light that made up the clearing revealed the soft underbrush that stretched over the perimeter of the place. But there, in the center of the clearing, was a void of a different shade – large, taking up most of the space. A breeze blew through the area, bringing the soft trickle of water to his ears.

A spring.

Sin couldn't help but stare in wonder, ignoring the blatant smirk being shot at his back. The Vampyre strode past him, moving to kneel at the edge of the spring to fill his canteen. The man sat back on his heels and took a sip. Sin felt those smug eyes on him.

"Well?"

The stunned spell was broken. Sin stumbled forward to the edge of the pool, dropping to his knees beside it. He paid little heed to the eyes trained keenly upon him as he quickly cleared a section of grass. A few quick strokes later, ad a Glyph was efficiently etched into the soil, glowing pale blue to his eyes. With a brush of fingertips the Glyph activated in a shower of blue sparks.

Almost immediately there was a build up of heat rising within the spring, and soon the air was filled with a thin mist of steam. It was now a hot spring. The words had never sounded so wonderful to him.

The Fallen Angel glanced up at the low whistle exhaled near him. "Neat trick," he heard Draca murmur, "How's it work?"

"It's as simple as heating the bedrock, actually," he replied. Sin went silent afterwards, a sudden thought occurring to him. Draca had found this for him. He swallowed. "Draca-"

"You're welcome." The Vampyre's Colors seemed to dance with satisfaction, and Sin could feel the smirk being directed out him. The man leaned forward to dip a hand into the water. A hum of delight issued from Draca. "Mm. Perfect."

Sin was already removing his clothes, washing each article meticulously in the hot water as he went. He barely acknowledged the shadow tendrils that sprang from the ground at his side, dutifully taking the washed clothes from him as he finished and hanging them on a nearby branch to dry. That done, Sin took no time in lowering himself into the hip-deep water. A sigh of near ecstasy escaped his lips. It was as if he had slipped into sheer bliss. The seraph could feel the hot water eating away at the grime that had acclimated over the journey. He waded further into the pool, seeking to cleanse himself of the disgusting dirt, grime, and other things he didn't want to think about. He found the perfect spot where the water rose to chest level, and began to vigorously scrub himself clean.

It seemed to take hours for the feel of filth to completely dissolve from his flesh. And even afterwards there was an incurable itch that told Sin he'd scrubbed his skin raw.

There was an exasperated utterance somewhere to his right. "Stop it, you're clean already. Anymore of that and you'll tear skin." Sin turned his head towards the sound, too relieved and content to even be annoyed with his partner at the moment. Draca had, too, sunk himself into the spring. He had found a makeshift "seat" at the other end of the pool made from an outcropping of rock. He sat rib-deep in the spring, sprawled lazily against it. His spirit pulsed with blue contentment that tangled with the exhausted dim gray that threatened to invade his form.

Sin was almost ashamed to feel his heart trip as he Saw the burning red that rimmed the edges of the thief's soul. Lust. It was something that he'd often Seen over the last year and a half. He'd gotten used to Seeing it, even learned to ignore it to an extent. Why did it effect him now? Why couldn't he tear his eyes away?

Three nights ago that burning red had been very similar to what he Saw now. Only then it had been accompanied by hundreds of other shades that would flit away before he could identify them. It had been a storm of Color – and sometimes bright hues would stand out from the storm. Those he could recognize – shock, wonder, pleasure...

"Beautiful..."

Sin's entire body seemed to tingle at the memory, a strange chill overtaking him despite the water's heat. Something within his chest clenched, making his breath hitch. A familiar type of heat pooled somewhere south of his stomach.

Damnit, the mere memory was making him hard.

He wanted Draca. Badly. Now, in fact.

Sin's hand drifted upwards over his chest and collarbone, resting for a moment in the crook of shoulder. He could feel those eyes watching every move he made. The assassin fought not to smirk as the lusty red in Draca's spirit deepened. A swift swipe of a nail broke through the tender flesh between shoulder and neck, and he savored the sting. He pressed down, cutting deep enough to let the blood flow thickly down to pool in the dip of his clavicle. A moment later the life-giving fluid overflowed, dripping a warm path down his chest.

The smirk could no longer hide as fiery lust became crimson longing and orange shock. His chosen method of seduction was laughably simple. The Vampyre was horny and hungry – craving blood and sex. Give him one, and the other was sure to follow.

As such, Sin waded closer, listening intently as Draca's breath hitched and then quickened. "You just love to tease me, don't you?" came the husky whisper. A shiver of near delight went through him at the sound.

"Who said I was teasing?" Sin stopped just before the thief, observing in malicious satisfaction how Draca's form tensed at the close proximity – barely restraining himself.

"A gift, then?" There was hope in the inquiry, just barely discernible.

"A gift," he agreed.

"No cost?"

He pretended to think about it for a moment – simply to make Draca squirm for a few more seconds. "Would sex count as a cost?" He put an extra purr into his voice, just for effect.

His partner groaned quietly at that. His control was waning. "Consolation prize, more like," the man managed to choke.

Sin opened his arms invitingly, disarmingly. "No cost, then."

There was only a warning groan of "Thank god!" before quick hands snatched at his hips, tugging him forward. In the next instant, he was straddling the Vampyre on the stone seat. Large hands splayed across his back and waist as a hot tongue laved at the trail of blood dripping down his torso. His head tipped back with a smothered moan as that quicksilver tongue grazed a nipple as it passed, sharp teeth toying with it briefly before moving on.

The assassin's hands came up as Draca's mouth closed the wound, massaging man's neck and running through the wild hair. Sin was pulled in closer as the Vampyre drank from him. He could feel every delighted and pleasured tremor that went through the body against his. Feeling devious, the seraph pressed down onto the forming erection digging into the inside of his thigh. A chuckle escaped his throat at the startled bucking of thin hips and the moan muffled against his skin.

There was a soft pop minutes later as the Vampyre dislodged from the cut, a wicked tongue tracing it a final time. The area tingled oddly, warmly. He could sense the skin slowly knitting back together. The hand on his back moved up to his nape, tugging him down so that their lips meshed. The kiss was probing, deep, and metallic. Sin could taste his own blood on Draca's tongue. It was bizarre, but he couldn't say that it was unpleasant.

Their hands couldn't stay idle, roaming feverishly over the wide planes of chests and backs, dipping into the grooves of abdomens, and curling around the protrusion of hip bones. The Fallen Angel's hips bucked suddenly as a thieving hand trekked a burning path down his spine from nape to the small of his back, making his brain go blissfully fuzzy. The thief's answering arch of hips was accompanied with as groan as their kiss broke, his hardness sliding further up Sin's thigh at the action. His head dropped onto Draca's shoulder, his heart pounding and his breath coming in pants. There was a vague dizziness – a slight sense of vertigo – due to the loss of blood, but it was only slight.

"You... drive me insane." The words broke through the haze like lightning bolt, but he grinned at the strained and lusty tone in that voice. He hummed in response, his tongue trailing up the man's neck to his ear – delighting in the shiver it caused.

"You've always been insane," he muttered against the shell. The chuckle that answered him was warm, and Sin watched in fascination as Draca's spirit began to whirl with that swirling storm of Colors once more. He found himself staring openly at his partner, not realizing that he'd pulled back to look Draca in the face. His hand came up to touch a bright tendril of elusive Color level with Draca's jaw. He couldn't help himself.

"You watchin' again?" came the mumbled inquiry.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, dipping his head to brush his lips against another spot of Color – a swirl of red-violet, this time. His hands and lips trailed over flesh, no longer concentrating on the physical – on the feel of skin and muscle and bone – but on the spirit which he could See. Soon enough, energy was pooling in his hands, sparking with Draca's own. It made the Vampyre's breath hitch, and Sin found that he couldn't help but kiss him.

He was tipped backwards slightly, a hand at his back supporting him. That mouth broke from his, marking a searing path of open-mouthed kisses down his jaw and neck. The man's free hand traveled – seemingly aimlessly – over the muscles of his abdomen. The kisses trailed down his chest, tongue tracing teasingly over the hard surfaces of ribs and teeth nipping at flesh.

The Fallen One's head idled back, hands gripping insistently at Draca's shoulders. Those hands and that mouth seemed to be everywhere but where he needed them. The urging, pleading sounds issuing from his mouth was enough to put him to shame.

The needy whines became a frustrated growl – half angry at himself – and he squirmed. In the next instant, he tensed and arched with a moan as the movement aligned their hips perfectly. His hips pressed forward again, eager to feel that delicious friction once more. The echoing buck of hips and the lusty sigh that came with it were dull to his awareness. The hand at his stomach slid southwards to wrap around his hardness.

"Mm..." Sin sighed breathily as that hand started a slow, tantalizing rhythm. He knew Draca's eyes were on his face, watching every detail of his expression.

"Gaia, you have no idea how long I've wanted this," Draca murmured huskily.

Sin sat up once more, his face mere inches away from Draca's as he stared down at the thief. "Kiss me, Vampyre."

Draca obeyed, and he could feel the man's grin against his lips. The kiss deepened, their tongues intertwining in a near playful war for dominance.

It amazed the Fallen Angel. It amazed him how his flesh seemed to be on fire – like wherever Draca touched left electric shocks in his wake. It amazed him how he never seemed to catch his breath – like he was drowning and enjoying it. It was nothing like he could ever remember experiencing. Sex had never been like this for him. Sex had served a purpose, like everything else in his life. It was a tension release. But that was all it had been. There was no attachment. It was cold, distant.

But there was no coldness or detachment here.

The shocking sound of a whine left his mouth, swallowed by their kiss as Draca's hand released his cock. It slid around to join the other hand at Sin's back. It detoured south immediately, and his body froze as he felt a brush of fingertips against his entrance. There was no warning before a digit eased inside him. Sin broke the kiss with a choked off yelp, his hands clutching at the Vampyre's arms and his head burying into the crook of his neck.

A kiss was dropped onto the patch of skin just below his ear – unnecessarily soothing. There was no pain that accompanied the finger moving slowly within him. But Gaia, it was odd. The pressure intensified as another digit was added moments later, stretching him. The assassin squirmed, uncomfortable. The kisses being pressed into his neck and the side of his face weren't helping matters.

'I... ugh. I don't need comfort or reassurance, damnit!'

He felt a smirk on those lips in the next kiss, and realized that Draca knew exactly how much he hated it. The furious outburst was halfway to his mouth when those stroking, searching fingers found that spot inside him that made him arch and gasp. His words were all but forgotten as that spot was touched again and again.

"Ah...!" The unbecoming cry escaped his throat as a third was added. There was a bit of pain that came with it, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Nevertheless, Draca's movements halted in order for him to adjust – which only incensed him.

'I'm not weak!'

"I know," Draca murmured, and it took Sin a moment to notice that he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. The fingers inside him began a steady rhythm, brushing against that bundle of nerves every few strokes. "But I'll never have anyone say I'm not a considerate lover."

Sin froze, that suffocating, crowded feeling engulfing him once more. He wanted desperately to push away from the thief, but the ministrations of those fingers effectively turned his body to mush. He could only sputter in shock and indignation. "Lover?" he choked, "H-Hardly."

There was a tense pause. In that one instant a thousand different emotions waxed and waned in Draca's spirit – there and gone too fast for him to name. And then the moment passed – Draca's spirit was calm once more. "Mm. Suit yourself, then." Sin actually cursed aloud as the digits were removed. He glowered murderously at his partner, growling lowly at the faint Color of amusement that highlighted the man's soul. But his assumption that Draca was teasing him was eased as the Vampyre scooted his hips forward slightly. His hands rose to Sin's hips, thumbs moving in lazy circles.

The Fallen Angel didn't need another hint. He allowed the hands at his waist to balance him as he grasped Draca's erection and slowly began to lower himself onto it. Both of them shuddered and tensed, the grip on his waist tightening. There was significantly less pain than the first time they had tried this, thanks to Draca's careful preparations (though he'd be damned if he ever admitted it). Despite that, the discomfort and slight pain and burning pressure was suffocating, and he had to force himself to breathe deeply and relax.

Draca's hands were trembling with restraint as they caressed his wet skin – just as they had three they had three nights ago. The feel of those hands brushing continuously against his body and the Sight of that spinning storm of Color below him made Sin shudder in pleasure. The Vampyre groaned in response, his hips jerking. "Keep that up," he panted, "and... hah... this isn't gonna last long."

The corners of his lips twitched into a near grin of their own accord. "Then I guess I should start moving, shall I?" He punctuated the remark with short rolls of his hips, eliciting another low sound and a shiver from the Vampyre.

"Yes. Move. Now."

Rather than making another snide remark to this, Sin decided to merely obey. He moved tentatively, only rocking his hips at first. The discomfort soon faded enough for him to broaden his strokes, actually rising onto his knees before lowering himself back down. His pace was not hurried, moving smoothly and slowly. The pace was only enough to shallow their breathing and send exquisite tremors through their bodies, rather than satisfy their need. The hands on his hips steadied him, aided him in his motions. Sin's own arms coiled around his partner's shoulders, shivering as kisses were pressed onto his neck and panting breaths fanned across his flesh.

Draca's hands were changing the angle of his hips as he moved about him, searching for that bundle of nerves inside him. The Fallen One gasped raggedly as a particularly deep thrust struck his prostate. "Mmm-oh god, right there!" The grip on his waist tightened as the thief groaned into his neck. The Vampyre's hips bucked up as he came down on the next thrust, sending him deeper.

"Hah...!" The cry escaped from him unbidden, but he no longer cared what he sounded like.

"Y'gotta move faster, baby. Not – nngh – gonna... last..." the thief slurred, apparently unaware of the disgusting endearment. Sin sped up the pace despite that, his body trembling in ecstasy with each movement. The sounds of their erratic breathing and barely-voiced moans drowned out the sound of the rippling water as they moved together. Their embrace was feverish, as if they couldn't get close enough.

The swirling mass of Color that was Draca's spirit was utterly breathtaking. Sin gasped loudly as the aura emanating from it stretched out, watching in wonder as it brushed against his skin and sent delicious shocks through his body.

Warm breath puffed hotly up his neck as Draca raised his head. The storm of hues filled his vision as they looked at one another. He could barely feel those thin lips brushing against his as they moved. A violent thrill went through him. His already erratic breathing pitched feverish as he neared his peak. They were so close – if he leaned forward only the slightest -

"S-Sin..."

Their lips crashed together, the Fallen Angel's cry of completion smothered by their kiss as he came. His Sight flickered out, colors of a different sort flashed behind his eyes. His entire body went rigid, trembling and hips jerking and oh god so good...

There was a groan against his mouth – barely noticed in his rapture – as Draca was pushed to the brink and over the edge. Sin shuddered, overwhelmed with pleasure caused by the man's jerking thrusts.

Their bodies still trembled in the wonderful aftermath of passion as their lips brushed lazily together. They parted slowly, foreheads resting against each other while they attempted to calm their breathing.

Once he found the strength, he rose up and off Draca, a small sound slipping from his mouth at the loss. The Vampyre's arms slithered around him and pulled him back to rest comfortably against the man's chest. Sin hadn't the energy to fight him on it. He frowned as he felt Draca's nose nuzzle into his hair. The crowded feeling was returning again. The seraph squirmed.

It went ignored. "How much longer do you think the hot water'll last?"

"You're seriously not going to ask me that now, are you?"

The chuckle answered for the man, and so Sin forced his fuzzy mind into action. "Perhaps another hour. Why?" The quiet snickers transformed into full-blow laughter. Confused and vaguely annoyed, Sin lifted his head from the thief's shoulder. "What-"

He shifted – grimaced. 'Oh god.'

"Godamnit! I have to bathe aga- wha- let go! Damnit, get off! Draca!"

"Obscenity is a cleansing process, whereas pornography only adds to the musk."

Walk on, Traveler of Worlds


Mmmmmm sex. XD Yes, I'm a bit perverted. But who isn't? At least at some points? This is just a little oneshot to help advance the plot and flesh out the building relationship a bit more.

And also because seeing Sin whine about wanting a bath had to be further explored. Muahahahaha. Next time: The boys return home. The reaction to this sudden change in their relationship will be...?

Rather humorous. ^ ^ Thanks for reading! Drop me a line or a review or something! I like to know what people think!