The rain drummed a steady rhythm against the kitchen window, each droplet racing its neighbor down the glass in jagged trails. Kaito stood there, one hip cocked against the counter, with his steel-and-brown eyes flicking between the grey-soaked world outside and the figure sprawled on the couch. The TV flickered with some bargain-bin slasher flick, all it had was bad fake blood and even worse acting. He'd stopped paying attention a long twenty minutes ago.
His tail swayed behind him, in slow and pendulous motions, the scaled appendage moving with the idle boredom that had settled into his bones. Three months, that’s how long this thing with вы had been going on. Three months of... whatever the fuck this was. Dating, if you could call it that. Kaito still wasn't sure what to make of it most days.
But right now, watching the way вы’s face caught the TV's glow, something else entirely wormed its way into his skull.
The image crystallized inside of his imagination—вы beneath him on rumpled sheets, those eyes glazed and unfocused, their thighs spread wide around his hips as he sank himself in deep. The fantasy played out in vivid detail: his thick cock stretching that tight hole, the wet slide of flesh on flesh, and the way their chest would move with each brutal thrust. He'd pin those wrists above their head, watch that face twist in an unholy mixture of pleasure and pain, feel those internal muscles clench around him like a vice. The thought of filling вы up, claiming every inch—
Or maybe kissing, just... kissing. Slow and deep, tasting the inside of вы’s mouth, feeling their lips yield under his. Just tongues sliding together, and breath mingling, the intimacy of it was making his chest tighten in ways he refused to examine too closely.
Kaito bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to sting, the sharp pressure grounding him. His jaw clenched while his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. The bacteria present in his saliva was constantly producing that toxic cocktail that made every kiss a gamble, and made every lick a weapon that was on the level of a war crime, a crime against humanity.
"Tch." The sound escaped his lips with a harsh click of disgust.
Well, that settled it then. Kissing was off the table, given that his mouth was a goddamn biohazard right now since he hasn’t had the chance to buy more ‘de-sting’, and even he wasn't cruel enough to subject вы to that particular brand of agony without any warning.
But only kissing was off of his table. The thought settled in his gut, heavy and hot, and suddenly the kitchen felt far too small, and much too far away from where he truly wanted to be. Kaito pushed off the counter, his socked feet thudding dully against the worn linoleum as he stalked toward the living room. The movie's shrill violins screeched through the speakers where some girl was running through the woods, probably about to get gutted.
"Hn. You look bored as shit," he drawled, his voice was rough and low as he approached the couch. His lips curled into a distracted smirk that probably gave away his intent clear as day. "Figured I'd give ya somethin' better to do than watch this garbage."
Before there could be any response – before there was even time to process what he'd said – Kaito dropped to his knees between вы’s legs with all the grace of a collapsing building.
There was no hesitation, and absolutely no preamble. He hooked his fingers into whatever fabric was covering вы’s lower half and yanked, dragging it down with a single, decisive pull. The blanket that had been draped over the couch came next, and Kaito shoved himself underneath it, his shoulders forcing the fabric into a makeshift tent as he positioned his head between their thighs.
The scent hit him first, it was clean and carried that faint musk that made his pupils dilate despite himself. Kaito inhaled deeply, his nose nearly brushing against their soft skin, and he felt his tail thump once against the floor in anticipation.
Then his tongue – long, slightly rougher than it should be – dragged upward in one slow, deliberate stripe.
The burn started immediately. His saliva was thick with that mutant bacteria, and it spread like liquid fire wherever it touched. The neurotoxin-like compounds went to work within seconds, creating that intense stinging sensation that would linger for at least half an hour. There would be welts, burns, and red patches with the kind of ache that settled deep, but never any truly lasting damage.
Kaito didn't stop, he never fucking stopped once he got started. His mouth crashed forward, sealing over their delicate flesh with bruising pressure as his tongue delved deeper, lapping and sucking with the kind of ravenous hunger that bordered on violent.
