A High Price
Muraki straightened up, distancing himself a little from Tsuzuki, who gave some small sound of protest in response. The Shinigami got to his feet so abruptly that he managed to trip over his own feet in his rush, and staggered towards the doctor, who wore an understandably satisfied smirk. Muraki reached forward to steady him a little, and then had second thoughts, letting the smaller man clutch at the front of his coat tightly instead, and peer up at him with pure accusation in those breathtaking, amethyst eyes.
"You're toying with me, just like you toy with people's lives. Am I good entertainment?" Such vehement words from Tsuzuki, so bitter and betrayed. His anger made the doctor smile broadly, shaking his head. He adored it when his beloved spoke so passionately.
"Not entertainment, Tsuzuki-san. I am merely keeping a promise." The Shinigami looked utterly confused, still gripping at the white leather coat tightly with both hands as Muraki looked down at him.
"What're you talking about?" Tsuzuki asked quietly, tugging the doctor forward a little so that he was forced to lean, stooping at eye level with him.
"Your memory is far from perfect, even if your body is otherwise." The doctor mused out loud, his gaze drifting down the Shinigami's slender frame with such obvious lust, that Tsuzuki's face had an indisputable scarlet blush when their eyes finally met again. "Don't you remember? I promised not to lay a finger upon you, not to touch you." Muraki leaned forward again, until their lips were almost touching, breath mingling.
"But I-!" Muraki suddenly pulled away from him roughly as he spoke, holding up a hand for silence, and turned to look down the path that ran alongside the lake, keen eyes searching the darkness. There had been someone watching them, of this he was sure, but there wasn't the slightest bit of evidence apparent to back up this feeling. Eyes narrowed, he took a few steps away from the stunned Shinigami, listening for the slightest movement.
Tatsumi had seen it all, heard every word of their bitter exchange, observed as Tsuzuki showed a side he had never displayed before. At least not in front of him. He was like an entirely different person, volatile and vulnerable all at once, almost violent towards the doctor in his need. At first Tatsumi had been disgusted by it. How could anyone want the attentions of Muraki, the twisted creature that had been the cause of so much distress and countless tears?
At this point he had stopped, proceeding no further towards them, his anger displaced by an altogether darker feeling. Pure jealousy. He didn't understand why, but he recognised it for what it was, and instantly he was crippled by shame. Tsuzuki was his friend, how could he see him as anything else? But God, how he wanted that need to be directed at him, wished that he could change places with the doctor and feel the heat of that slender body against him.
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the image in front of him, but couldn't stop himself from looking back, couldn't suppress the lust he felt watching them. Again he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, but the image of them seemed to be burned onto the insides of his eyelids. With a soft sob he had summoned the shadows to carry him away, and it was that sound which had captured Muraki's attention.
Finally assured that there was no one lurking near by, Muraki turned back to Tsuzuki, who was still watching him questioningly, his temper less frayed at the edges. He had been too caught up in their dispute to notice the soft sob of his friend or the subdued rush of the shadows as they carried him away and back to Meifu. Now he was unsure of himself again, longing for that intimacy that only the doctor had offered him.
Muraki moved close to him, white-clad arms winding about his upper body possessively, promise forgotten. Now was not the time for teasing or games, now was the time to work away that charged energy between them, to force the beautiful Shinigami to realise his feelings to the fullest.
Somehow, they ended up on the bench, the doctor letting his full weight press Tsuzuki against the unyielding stone, bruising his neck with bites and kisses that left him breathless, made him writhe madly and forced throaty groans from his slender throat. How perfect it was to have him beneath him again, that lean, delicately muscled body, just begging to be ravaged. His throat burned for the taste of that sweet blood, fingers greedily tearing clothing as they sought to worm their way beneath to feel the silk of warm, perfect skin.
Tsuzuki was lost to reason already, only able to focus on that brutal touch, the pain that came with it and the pleasure that seemed to pulse in every inch of his body. It was verging on an addiction, and he invited the clawing nails, the sharp teeth, adored the crushing sensation of that hard body that stole his breath. Already he was painfully hard, hips arching up against the doctor's stomach, desperate for contact. The fact that they were out in the open, and that someone might stumble across them at any moment never occurred to him. They were alone as far as he was concerned.
Muraki on the other hand had not reached such a state of abandon, more accustomed to restraint, and after briefly smothering the Shinigami's moans with a kiss, he scooped him up off the bench, one arm around his upper back, the other beneath his backside. Tsuzuki clung to him, wrapping his legs around his waist, face buried against the joint of shoulder and neck, not caring where he was taken, just so long as they were not separated.
Into a copse of trees, Muraki carried him, heading deep towards the centre, out of view of the path, ignoring the tangle of branches that whipped at him and snarled in his hair, his clothes, almost like bony fingers trying to snare him. It was not long before he came upon a suitable patch of ground, and disentangled his burden from around him long enough to toss their coats upon the damp earth. He couldn't have his beautiful prize damaged upon the rough ground afterall.
Tsuzuki found himself flung upon their makeshift bed, landing with a bone- jarring jolt that forced a soft cry from him, but as soon as the heated body of the doctor returned to him, he ignored his aches and pains. Reaching up to embrace him, letting strong hands manipulate him, probe every inch of him, explore until his flesh ached, he could do naught but clutch at broad shoulders, every gasp an unspoken demand for more. Muraki did not disappoint, tearing his clothes to shreds in an effort to undress him hastily, but somehow succeeding in stripping the Shinigami completely, until he lay naked and distinctly bloody in the dappled moonlight that fell through the skeletal branches above them.
Tsuzuki felt the doctor trail heated kisses down his stomach, tongue dipping into his navel before sliding his hands behind his back, lifting him slightly. His straining member already leaking, Tsuzuki felt like he might spend himself at any moment, but it was not to his length that the doctor turned his attention. Amethyst eyes widened in surprise as he felt something distinctly wet and rigid sink into him, and he looked down to see the doctor knelt between his parted thighs, staring straight back at him. The saliva-moistened finger retreated, only to be joined by another, both squirming within the tight, muscular passage. This time, the doctor was being generous enough to prepare him, despite the apparent delight Tsuzuki showed whenever the doctor inflicted his own cruel brand of pain.
"Mu-Muraki." The strained whisper was music to the doctor's ears. "Now. Please." He gasped as the fingers were withdrawn, leaving him aching, waiting to be filled.
The doctor was as hasty in his own undressing as he had been when removing the Shinigami's clothes, and soon they too lay strewn across the damp ground, glasses cast aside. To Tsuzuki he seemed carved from pure, flawless alabaster, the moonlight playing upon sleek muscles, and yet again he found himself dumb-struck as he realised how beautiful a creature he was. Muraki reached for his ankles, lifting his legs until his knees were propped over his shoulders. Tsuzuki braced himself for what was to come, staring upwards at the small patches of sky visible to him.
Pain lanced through him like fire as Muraki's engorged manhood impaled him, burying itself deeply until it could go no further, and Tsuzuki cried out with the agony of it, no more adept at handling such intensity than he had been when the doctor first took him. As for Muraki, he moaned from the pure pleasure of it all, breath clouding the air, body twitching as he forced himself to hold still, savouring that tightness. He wanted nothing but this, perfect union, and as they had before, both experienced that connection of feelings that seemed beyond the explanation of simple words.
Their bodies rocked in unison, an age-old rhythm sounded out by their laboured breathing. Muraki had no difficulty in striking the point which brought his lover pleasure, expertly angling his thrusts to meet it each time, body inclined so that Tsuzuki's length met with his stomach, adding to the stimulation. He was far from selfless however, and indulged himself in a rough pace that was, put simply barbaric, as if he were determined to maim the smaller man with his savage attentions.
Leaning over Tsuzuki, Muraki kissed him deeply, passion blinding both as their tongues danced within the heat of their mouths, bodies trembling with pleasure. Tsuzuki reached up to clasp the doctor's face, cupping his jaw tenderly, tears streaking his cheeks. Why couldn't he have this perfection and not feel ashamed of it when it was all over? He groaned as Muraki broke their kiss and fastened his teeth onto the skin of his throat again, sinking just deep enough to rupture a thin vein and spill scarlet liquid into his mouth. It was that last rush of pain that brought Tsuzuki to his peak, bringing him that soothing oblivion that banished all fears and guilt, nothing but perfect happiness. With a soft cry of relief the evidence of his release coated their stomachs, and Muraki smiled down at him, intensifying his thrusts until he too spent himself, an expression that seemed almost pained flickering across his finely wrought features with every spasm. As before Muraki collapsed on top of the Shinigami, exhausted, barely able to summon the strength to roll off him.
Tsuzuki, just as weary, limbs seeming to possess no substance, shifted to lie against him, and with the last of his energy, pulled the doctor's coat over both of them, before drifting to sleep in Muraki's gentle embrace.
Author's Note: Well someone said the chapters were too short. So I made it longer. Other people wanted more lemon, so there ya go, and I was in the mood for a little blood-play. So there it is all taken care of. =]
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