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Daniel was late.
He was always late, to be fair. Late to wake up, late to show up and late to finish — some would consider that a mark of ineptitude, they would consider him inept.
Roland had too for about five minutes, before he’d been assigned to work with Daniel for the very first time. If that man was allowed to be fully productive, most Arbiters would be left without a job.
Maybe Daniel was lazy on purpose, just to give the least capable of them a chance? He was starting to believe such ridiculous thoughts.
No matter, the point was that he was late. Again. He was supposed to clean up a few employees of G Corp. after a particular ‘faux pas’ they had committed which… Well, it would probably be better if no one knew what they'd done.
Confidential information et al.
This clean up was to take place in a building G Corp. maintained outside The City’s limits, right in The Outskirts — one had to wonder how smart it was to keep your secret and very much illegal business outside of The City, when it was the most obvious place to hide one’s secret and very much illegal businesses. Not that it would’ve been much better hidden inside it, but hiding under someone’s nose was certainly a thing.
Roland wasn’t there to try and comprehend the plans, and following unprofessionalism, of the people they had to eliminate on a regular basis though — he was there to do his job, which in this case involved babysitting a murderous, blue-haired sociopath with absolutely no sense of time.
The entrance of the facility looked exactly as Roland had expected it: a heavily damaged room, covered floor to ceiling with the remains of anyone stupid enough not to run away as fast as they could. Whatever furniture had existed there was basically unrecognizable as anything but piles of wood and metal, and the corpses were no better.
He called them ‘corpses,’ but simply calling it gore was much more accurate. As he moved deeper inside, hallways practically painted with blood welcomed Roland, finding himself with a variety of body parts that he barely registered — this was always the state of any place Daniel was sent to, inevitably.
He stopped momentarily, as he felt himself step on something a little harder than the indistinguishable mushes of meat and organs Roland had been walking over for the last couple minutes. Under his foot was what appeared to be an arm, boneless if still somewhat keeping its shape, with what seemed like someone’s lower intestine wrapped around its circumference.
Oh, no wonder he was late. Daniel had fun today.
Roland should’ve seen that coming.
The facility wasn’t particularly large, but it was big enough to be a series of labyrinthic hallways connecting rooms that, with their new coat of ‘natural’ red paint, became basically identical. Thankfully, this was far from the first time Roland had to collect Daniel from a job after he’d forgotten what time it was, and he had a very easy technique to find the damned bastard — follow the slaughter until the amount of half opened torsos attached to nothing and similarly presented human art pieces began thinning, then search for the cleanest room available. Chances were Daniel had fallen asleep there, after running low on caffeine, or was in the middle of drinking a cup of coffee; which he could perfectly do with piles upon piles of scattered limbs around, but he insisted the smell of blood overpowered even the bitterest of blends, and he did not appreciate having his coffee ruined.
Fifteen minutes, plus a variety of small exhibitions to the worst possible acts that one could commit against a human body, later, Roland finally found where Daniel had been hiding, although it was not the usual scene he’d become accustomed to in these sorts of excursions.
Daniel was standing over a particular corpse, which was half laying against the southern farthest wall — their jaw had been cracked and dislodged, hanging several centimetres down, their hands were but two blood stains on the floor, not even bones left to identify where they once had been. Their legs were cut symmetrically in three parts, same with their arms, and their torso had been opened and emptied of any and all contents, which were nowhere to be found in the room, at least in the initial scan Roland had made of it.
“Oh, is someone still alive~?” Daniel asked without turning around to look at who he was addressing, sounding delighted at the possibility he’d allowed someone to escape his grasp. “That’s strange, I thought I triple checked every room.”
“If you kill me, I’m afraid you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do… and a lot of paperwork to fill.” And Roland knew Daniel hated any sort of paperwork with a passion.
Hearing his voice produced an immediate change in Daniel. He turned around with pure excitement in his eyes — his robe and pants were soaked in blood, as were his hands and boots, his coat the only thing halfway clean, — his smile so bright and full of pure elation, one would’ve thought he was an entirely different person from the one who had spoken five seconds ago.
Roland rolled his eyes as Daniel walked towards him, pressing their foreheads together once they were close enough to do so.
“Hello, my darling~ I missed you.” He smiled.
If it was possible, Roland rolled his eyes even harder.
“It’s been five hours, Daniel.”
“Five horrifyingly long hours that—” Daniel stopped, separating from Roland as he took in the words more carefully. “Five hours?”
“Yep. You’re late.” He sighed. “They sent me to pick you up.”
“And here I thought you came to see me because you missed me~” His attempt at a sniffle only made the sentence sound worse in Roland’s opinion.
“I was in the middle of something important, I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t have orders to bring you back.” That was a complete and utter lie, however.
Before he’d been sent to collect Daniel, Roland had been in the middle of observing the ongoing argument Giovanni and Garion were getting into, trying to figure out if they’d be fucking or killing each other in the next five minutes — knowing Garion’s preferences, it was more likely they’d kill each other, but you never knew.
“What distracted you this fucking time?”
“Oh… nothing that important. Triple checking every room and a couple of interrogations~” Daniel said with a smile, as if those weren’t actually quite important things to do.
Maybe not triple checking every room, but at least double checking them.
“No matter, I still missed you terribly~” He wrapped his arms around Roland’s shoulders. “How can I exist without my darling around~?”
“… Ah, yes. I’m sure you can’t exist without me around, even with all the Claws you happily surround yourself with.” Roland grabbed Daniel’s face by his jaw, just hard enough to be painful.
“Darling, are you jealous?” What kind of stupid question was that? (Of course he was.) “You know I’ve had no one but you since we’ve met.”
Daniel had a long and particularly screwed up history of conquests, including too many Claws to realistically count, but he had basically dropped every lover he’d ever had the second Roland had shown the tiniest amount of interest in him.
Why? Roland wasn’t sure, but he did enjoy reaping the benefits.
“I’m not about to believe the mouth of a slut on anything, who knows what the hell has been in there.”
“Darling, you know exactly what has been in there~ You have it attached to your body, after all.”
Roland had to admit that was a pretty good retort, not that he was going to tell Daniel that or stop grabbing him by the jaw, now harder than before.
Slowly, careful not to let either of them trip over some half destroyed limb, Roland forced Daniel to walk by the hold on his jaw, pushing him until his back was against the nearest wall. He observed Daniel carefully, taking in the mess of his clothes and a couple streaks of blood on his face, which Roland had seen but not properly acknowledged. The hand he kept on Daniel’s jaw moved, now carding his hair.
“It’s been getting longer.” Roland said carelessly, without much feeling.
“It has, hasn’t it? I’ve not cared much for it lately~” He smiled, a bloodied hand softly grabbing onto Roland’s wrist. “Do you want me to cut it?”
“No.” It was much easier to pull Daniel’s hair the longer it got — currently it was in the mid stage between short but neglected and long but purposely messy, which involved a certain degree of puffiness and sometimes an unevenness that caused one of Daniel’s eyes to end up covered more often than not.
His hold on Roland’s wrist immediately disappeared, his hand dropping and pressing itself against the wall, as he pulled on Daniel’s hair.
The reaction was always the same, instant and predictable. Daniel would close his eyes and his body would lose all resistance, unafraid and welcoming like a warm home turned into a breathing, living body.
Sometimes Roland felt a little guilty, that his favourite thing to do to that home was to demolish it until there was nothing recognizable left, not even its foundation.
Then again, was he supposed to feel guilty when the home itself thanked him everytime he did so? Seemed like a silly thing to feel, when taking that into consideration.
Roland’s other hand pulled on the zipper running on the front of Daniel’s robe. It was caked with blood, unsurprisingly, and the skin underneath once freed was also stained the same dark brown-red. Daniel observed him curiously, with only one eye open, as relaxed as he’d been that entire time even as Roland’s hand moved inside his clothes, his palm pressing over his ribs.
“Here?” Daniel asked, giggling and shivering as Roland continued to slowly move his hand over his sides. “Don’t you think it’s a little dirty~?”
“You made me fuck you while I was lying on a pile of gore.” This was hardly the worst place or position he’d be willing to fuck Daniel in, at that.
“But it was fun~”
“We found a severed finger stuck to my back, while showering, two hours later, Daniel.” Well, it was technically two thirds of a severed finger, but that wasn’t particularly important to the discussion.
“And we laughed about it just fine~”
They had laughed about it quite a lot afterwards, just before Roland decided Daniel should get pressed against the shower tiles until his legs gave out.
Daniel hissed as Roland grabbed onto one of his tits and squished it as hard as he could, his hand now dirty with the blood that had seeped there from Daniel’s clothes. The hand that had been petting and carding Daniel’s hair abandoned its place, now holding onto his cheek carefully, Roland’s thumb cleaning the few specks of blood that were left on Daniel’s face only to bring it to his own mouth to taste them.
This earned Roland a very inquisitive look from his lover, whose hands were currently scratching at the wall behind him, as Roland continued abusing the meat of his breast. His curiosity was always piqued by the strangest things, in Roland’s opinion, though he couldn't say much himself — the main reason why Roland was in this particular position was because Daniel had piqued his own curiosity many months ago.
He giggled, wetting his fingers with what little fresh blood still covered his robe. Roland simply stared as Daniel painted his lips with his fingers, a dark red mess that didn’t truly suit him… but if that was the request he was apparently making, who was Roland to not acquiesce?
Roland pulled Daniel’s face down, just enough so he could kiss him without making any effort himself, biting and licking his lips until they were back to their natural red and clean of any and all blood.
Another giggle, this time against Roland’s lips as they separated.
“What’s so funny?”
“I love you.”
There was no way for Roland to know if those words were sincere, he didn’t exactly trust Daniel to be honest about anything half the time, but if the man was currently capable of truthfulness and love, Roland was sure that he was the recipient of both.
“And I must repeat myself, I do not trust the mouth of a slut on anything, much less its owner’s emotions.”
“You hurt me so much when you say things like that, Roland.” Daniel smiled, the sort of pitiful little look that reminded Roland that he could only push a weapon so far forward before it just cleaved its target. “What do I need to do? Kill every lover I had before you? Because I’m afraid that would diminish the Claw population so terribly, we’d both get in trouble for it.”
It was a silly idea anyway. If Roland truly wanted to, he could’ve killed every one of Daniel’s old lovers himself — he actually had killed a couple, and not exactly out of jealousy either. They’d been the ones who’d gone out of their way to disturb Roland’s day, until turning them into stains on a wall was the only reasonable solution.
(The way they’d spoken about Daniel pissed him off monumentally. Only Roland had any right to speak of him like that, and even then… moments like these were a reminder that there was a limit to how much he could hurt his lover before he caused actual damage.)
Roland sighed, pushing Daniel’s head until he hit the back of it against the wall, the pain making him moan and instinctually close his eyes once more. This time he moved closer, until their hips were touching, purposely pressing himself against Daniel as hard as he could. Both of Roland’s hands were now inside Daniel’s clothes, squishing his waist and sides before simply taking hold of both his tits.
Daniel whined, refusing to open his eyes, as Roland began cleaning his chest by licking the blood still drying there. His thumbs rubbed slow, painful circles over his nipples as he continued to fondle his breasts, before his mouth reached them, lapping and sucking until Daniel was gasping his name on repeat.
“Is there a problem?” Roland asked with a smile, following the question with a long lick over Daniel’s right breast, making him shudder.
The way Daniel bit his lips before answering made Roland wish he had something to cut them with, simply to paint them with a proper, fresher red. Dark colours suited Daniel better, but the bright red of blood always complimented him.
“You’re in a mood, aren’t you?” Daniel shot back, one hand carding Roland’s hair — there would be dried blood there now, to his dismay.
Was Roland in a mood? Maybe.
He’d seen Daniel speaking with a couple of fellow Arbiters before he had to leave. Not the usual entourage that Roland respected, and trusted not to touch what didn’t belong to them, but the sort of idiotic new meat that thought they could get something by trying to wrap themselves around a more experienced Arbiter.
Maybe they were making eyes like that of a dying cow at Daniel. And maybe he’d watched it happen, said nothing when Daniel attempted to act like a gentle tutor rather than just crack their skulls in half, and continued to stay quiet as Daniel left for the next five hours, seething with a very peculiar feeling.
(The feeling was jealousy.)
So, yes. Roland was in a sort of mood.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He spoke as dully as possible, the lie easily hidden in Roland’s lack of tone.
“I don’t mind if you are, darling.” Daniel simpered, like he always did when they found themselves entangled in ‘softer’ moments. “Your moods are always fun for me… but it worries me sometimes, how little you trust me.”
Roland trusted Daniel just fine, no matter how much he went out of his way to try and humiliate him with his very well known sexual history and what it implied — Daniel laughed along more often than not, it was much harder than it appeared to get under his skin with that topic.
The only person Roland didn’t trust in this situation was himself.
There was no response to give to that in Roland’s mind, or at least there was little he could say, and none of it he found acceptable. There was only so much vulnerability he was willing to show, especially in encounters like these.
Sometimes it would be so much easier to expose himself as much as Daniel was happy to do so with him.
(Sometimes he wondered if he couldn’t do it because he considered himself the worst person of the two.)
Once again Roland shoved Daniel against the wall — harder this time, enough that alongside his groan there was the distinct sound of something cracking. Daniel didn’t appear to be in any serious pain, so it was surely fine, whatever that sound had been. Probably just the wall itself, with how resilient his lover was.
Before Daniel had time to properly react, Roland pushed their hips together anew, forcefully rubbing them together, enjoying the way Daniel’s entire body trembled just from feeling how hard he was. One of his hands kept its hold on Daniel’s breast, while the other unceremoniously moved down to sneak inside Daniel’s pants and underwear, bluntly pushing a finger inside his cunt.
Roland looked up, from his position against Daniel’s chest, his mouth still entertained by biting and licking at a nipple, enjoying the way Daniel bit the inside of his mouth to keep himself from sobbing.
“Dar-darling?” Daniel asked, sounding… worried? Maybe he expected Roland to say something by now. “Roland?”
He wasn’t very interested in speaking, however. Roland quieted him before he could continue, kissing Daniel deeply, pushing his tongue inside carelessly, biting those reddened lips — everything to keep Daniel from talking.
The finger inside Daniel began moving slowly, exploratorily even though it had practically memorised the warmth and tightness of his cunt. It was thrusted harshly, in opposition to the more heavy, yet delicate drag as it was pulled out, the palm of Roland’s hand pressed right over Daniel’s clit, purposely pushing against it.
It was always delightful to Roland, seeing the way Daniel began melting against him — or whatever surface he was forced against, be the case — as he was finally taken. He much preferred fucking Daniel with his tongue until he was begging for his cock, if Roland had to choose, but he also preferred to have Daniel on a bed for something like that, expecting a minimun amount of comfort for the both of them.
Daniel kept quiet, even after Roland had abandoned his mouth to lick the dried blood around his neck and clavicle, apparently giving up on any attempts to speak. The hand he still had on Roland’s hair stayed there, carding it carefully, never pulling, even when Roland purposely bit him, causing Daniel to hiss and whine. He kept any possible pain he could bring about to the wall, his other hand still scratching at it — Roland could only imagine the state Daniel’s nails would be in, by the time he was done with him.
One finger became two, though he continued fucking Daniel at the same pace, trying to press as deeply inside him as he could. Daniel’s legs trembled, for a moment, just as it happened, and Roland couldn’t help but chuckle at the way his chest quivered the next time he took a breath, deep and painful, finding it visibly difficult to inhale.
The hand that had been carding on Roland’s hair was suddenly dropped, copying the position of the other — desperately scratching at the wall against their owner’s back — as Roland’s mouth returned to Daniel’s chest, torturing his nipples with bites and licks until that was enough to force him to come.
Ever since the first time Roland had ripped such pleasure from his lover, he’d been enthralled by the way Daniel’s body reacted as he came. Daniel wasn’t one of those people who were so terribly serious, so put together, that making them come, turning them into a sobbing pile of desperation, was practically a spectacle… but there was something somewhat similar to it, in the act.
It was as if Daniel’s body was always suffocating in its own shape, contained and locked, with his softness and humor both the handle and the edge of a metaphorical knife; when Roland finally defiled Daniel to his taste, when he twisted and desecrated him in the ways Daniel coveted, and Roland wanted to, it was the breaking of a dam. It was not simply unlocking, but outright shooting the lock, breaking it in the process — taking the knife by the blade, after stripping off its handle.
(Daniel had once admitted that no one had ever gone so far with him, possibly afraid of hurting him, or more likely getting hurt themselves. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why Daniel adored him so much. Roland was not afraid of cutting his own hands when holding a sharp blade.)
His fingers stopped, just for a moment. Just for long enough that Daniel could start to calm himself, to even his breathing; just for long enough that his eyes would open to stare down at Roland, open mouthed and flushed. The second Roland noticed Daniel was capable of somewhat complex thought, capable once more to formulate words, he began fucking him with his fingers again, his rhythm harder, faster, than before.
If poor Daniel’s legs were not about to give up, Roland would’ve kept his other hand on his chest. Alas, he had to hold his lover by the hip, to help him stand.
“Ro-Roland…” Daniel chuckled, interrupting himself with a whine that echoed lovingly inside the room. “You… Y-you are in a mood, af-after all~” He sounded a little smug when he said that.
He didn’t need to deny such an accusation. Roland knew better than to try and argue, when Daniel was right — it was much more productive to thrust his fingers as roughly and deeply as he was capable of, making Daniel’s legs tense in both pain and pleasure, forcing him to stay as still as possible even as his whole body shuddered, begging for some form of release.
“Slut.”
“That’s… tha-that’s not new informa—” Daniel moaned, cutting himself off, as Roland bit him right on his jugular.
“Whore.”
“Are you g-going to—?” Another bite, this time on the curve of Daniel’s breast. Anything to keep him quiet.
“Goddamned—”
“Stop.”
Roland completely stopped at the order, practically a chemical reaction forcing him to do so. His face was carefully taken between Daniel’s hands, held softly by his cheeks.
Daniel looked down at him without any fear or apprehension, there was no caution in those eyes, watering as they were. That trust was sometimes the most terrible of gifts.
“Darling… what’s gotten into you today?” He asked gently, unsurprisingly used to Roland’s moods.
Roland turned his head slightly, purposely avoiding Daniel’s eyes.
What had gotten into him, indeed.
Jealousy, coloured by the desire to paint the body of his lover in bruises, until whatever had been left by those who came before him either disappeared or became unrecognizable. The shame that came naturally from desiring a living creature, to the point of wishing full possession of them.
He pressed his forehead right over the centre of Daniel’s chest, still incapable of facing him.
“I do not understand why you allow me to hurt you like this.”
And oh, when Daniel laughed at that, how painful it was.
“Darling, you’ve never done anything I did not want you to.” Daniel spoke with such security in his own words, but also with the sweetness that Roland could only associate with the sort of acceptance that would one day destroy him in its pursuit. “You hurt me because you love me, and I love how you hurt me as much as I love you.”
This man would be the death of him, of that Roland was sure.
Roland’s fingers began moving again, in the same harsh, painful pace as before, his face still resting over Daniel’s chest — his hands continued to hold his face, as carefully as Daniel was capable of; even as his hands begged for something to pull, rip and crush, the tension in his body growing as Roland kept mercilessly fucking him with his fingers, he maintained a soft, kind touch.
The second time Daniel came was less violent than the first, but it was accompanied with a more notable tightening of his cunt around Roland’s fingers and a delightful wetness dripping down onto his palm. He still refused to grab and pull on Roland’s hair, but Daniel’s hands had pressed Roland’s face a little bit harder against his chest, allowing him to feel the way Daniel gasped desperately in the short aftermath, his crying leaving him no space to breathe.
It was a short aftermath simply because Roland once more left him no real time to recuperate, restarting the same vicious thrusting as before, adding a third finger for good measure.
Daniel’s sobbing reverberated in the room, a beautiful sound that always excited Roland terribly, the fact that he could cause such reactions just as good for him as the very thing he coveted. Roland looked up from his place against Daniel’s chest, finding him with his eyes closed, tears dropping, and his mouth opened, a line of saliva dripping from one side.
He moved up, carefully pressing kisses against Daniel’s tears, the salty taste of them only urging Roland to break down the body of his lover until it was made of nothing but agony and bliss.
When Roland ripped a third orgasm out of Daniel, his legs finally giving up even if he was kept upright thanks to Roland’s hold on him, there were no real moans or sobbing that followed — Daniel was practically choking on his own saliva and Roland had kissed him until he looked about to pass out. He was disgustingly wet, the image of him dripping down the inside of his own thighs simply beautiful when Roland finally lowered Daniel’s pants and underwear just enough to enjoy his handiwork.
Just enough.
Just enough that all Roland had to do was press his body against Daniel, his own clothes hastily removed to what was necessary and no more, a single thrust of his cock all that was needed to slip inside that warm, tight cunt, Daniel’s legs inevitably forced open to allow him space between them.
It could not be compared with a dance, what they did to each other. No matter how deeply they intermingled — Daniel’s arms around his body, clawing at him so hard that Roland’s back would’ve bled had it not been protected by his own clothes, Roland’s thrusting a violent and desperate attempt at connection, — they were ultimately monsters made to rip each other apart.
(But that was also how they preferred it, if they were honest with each other.)
“You… y-you fucking—” Roland muttered, biting all over Daniel’s neck, his hands bruising every place they touched. “—slut, going soft on a bunch of g-goddamned kids trying to climb you—” The sounds of their hips smacking against one another, a series of disgustingly wet, utterly shameless slaps, echoed in the room, along with Daniel’s attempts at Roland’s name, regularly interrupted by his wailing. “—it makes me want to… to cut their hands so they can’t touch you, cut your hands so you can’t touch anyone.”
A little laugh, from Daniel, cut short by the next push of Roland’s cock inside him, each more brutal than the last.
“I… I-I can’t… can’t touch you, i-if I do-on’t have ha-ah—” He pressed his forehead against Roland’s shoulder, crying out before being able to continue. “—if I don’t ha-have hands, darli-ling…”
Roland knew that, intrinsically he knew, and yet the idea had not left his mind for hours, too upset at the fact that someone else had touched what he wanted to keep as his own — what he wished to claim as his own over everything else, no matter who had touched that body and shredded those insides first.
“You… you always bring the f-fucking worst out of me.” He didn’t mean to be cruel when he said that, there was enough cruelty in the way he was fucking Daniel, savagely and without any care for what pain he could be causing him.
There was no one else who was so happy to embrace Roland at his worst, someone so willing to take him at his most volatile and vicious, to open their legs and accept pleasure and pain in the same measure, to be left bleeding and filled but thanking him for both.
It was more than just the tightness of a convenient cunt, or the softness of the skin under Roland’s hands — the pleasure he took from Daniel, the gratification Roland stole from him was not just physical. It never had been.
The acceptance and cradling of his natural brutality was thrilling too, enough to make Roland fall into the most terrible gluttony for it.
A thrust, with so much impulse, so ruthless, it was followed by the sounds of Daniel hitting the wall behind him, something audibly cracking afterwards once more. Not that it mattered, whatever it was, for Daniel followed the sound with a moan. His voice was filled with delectation, even as he weeped through his next orgasm, his cunt contracting against Roland’s cock so deliciously, it made him want to force Daniel to come yet again.
Alas, there were limits to any body — there were limits to how much one could abuse the body of others, nevermind their own in the process, — including Roland’s.
When Roland came, deep inside Daniel as he always preferred it, ripping his pleasure out of his body not unlike Daniel ripped the limbs of however crossed his path, he did so with an almost vindictive intensity. His entire body was burning, and not just because of the natural heat such exertion produced. Every part of him felt excruciatingly raw, as Roland attempted to catch his breath, his head firmly pressed in the crook of Daniel’s neck.
Daniel was no better, appearing to avoid blacking out by simple force of will and nothing else, his breathing desperately irregular — each attempt at an inhale sounded painful, as if his insides had been torched, and his exhales reminded Roland of an animal desperately attempting to scratch their way out of a cage.
They held each other tightly, unwilling to let go, no matter how much their arms wished to give up and become as boneless as the corpses around them.
As the minutes passed, they ended up slowly sliding down until their knees were resting on the blood covered floor. Their hold on each other never weakened, but Roland was forced to leave the warm space in Daniel’s body he had claimed as his own, hastily fixing their clothes enough that — if by any chance someone was sent to get them both back — they would not be considered indecent.
“Roland, darling…?” Daniel spoke, eventually, his head lolled to the side, resting atop Roland’s.
“Hm?” Roland hummed, his head once again resting on Daniel’s shoulder, after he’d finished dressing them up. He pressed a kiss on Daniel’s neck, right over a bite.
“I… You’re going to have to carry me, I can’t feel my legs~”
In any other situation, Roland would’ve thought those words were a joke, but he’d spent enough time around Daniel to know he’d never say something like that, unless it was the truth. Besides, a couple incidents not unlike this one had taught Roland that he did, in fact, have the ability to metaphorically reduce Daniel’s legs to the consistency of jello… so it wasn’t exactly a surprise that he’d done so again.
Maybe he really needed to keep those jealous outbursts for the bedroom only, if simply to have actual, proper surfaces to push Daniel against.
(It was the third goddamned time this month he pulled this shit. Either Roland developed some self-control, or he would be required to start bringing inflatable mattresses every time he was going to be outside with his lover.)
Roland sighed, turning around so his back was right in front of Daniel, allowing him to hold him by the neck. It took him a couple minutes, since his arms and legs also felt as if they were in a state not dissimilar to gelatin, but eventually Roland passed his arms under Daniel’s legs, grabbing him by his thighs, so as to help himself carry him out — admittedly getting up was a bit of a complex process for Roland, his own legs still somewhat unsteady, but such discomfort wouldn’t last very long.
A soft giggle, right against his neck.
“You don’t have to get so jealous, you know~?”
Sincerely, Roland didn’t want to answer that, too ashamed of his own display. He knew better than to keep quiet with something like this, though. Daniel would just tease him until he died otherwise.
“Can’t help it.”
“I know…” Daniel pressed a small kiss on the crook of his neck. “I don’t mind, but I hate seeing you so upset.” His hold on Roland tightened. “This is the kind of reason why I insist you should marry me~” He finished in a singsong-y tone, a purposely childish way to avoid the true responsibility of such a request, but Roland knew better.
Daniel had brought up such a thing more than once, and at first Roland had considered it a sort of ‘in the moment’ desire — Daniel was needy and attention seeking, having his emptiness fed turned him into some kind of lap dog.
However, it dawned on Roland that he was honest and aware of what such a query entailed the day he’d asked him in public. They’ve been surrounded by fellow Arbiters and, after Roland had said something that amused him enough to incite him to laugh, Daniel had whispered in his ear that he wanted to marry him, the request as simply stated as it could be. Roland had turned the closest shade of red to that of a spider lily’s a human was capable of in response, but kept any and all words to himself.
He’d also been questioned on what Daniel had said to embarrass him so much, and when he answered something along the lines of ‘things too explicit to be said in polite company,’ Daniel had played along, which was followed by him getting accused of being a pervert by most of the people around them.
Sometimes he wondered why Daniel allowed people to speak of him like that, outside of the bedroom — where he was comfortable with and enjoyed it, more often than not. He’d even asked once, and while he knew that the response he’d been given at the time still applied, Roland did not know if it was worth it in the end.
I’d rather people think me a fool and a joke, I dislike being judged by my handiwork.
Roland looked around as he exited the room, staring down at the corpse Daniel had been observing when he first walked in. He had not noticed at the time, but one of their eyes was missing, and the other was dislodged, hanging out yet barely connected by its optic nerve. The empty eye socket appeared to glare directly at Roland, almost as if its owner was judging him for what he’d done in front of them.
Eh, exhibitionism would be the least horrifying of their crimes.
No matter, Daniel’s request had always been sincere and Roland didn’t know how to deal with it half the time.
“And I’ve told you before, you can ask for the rest of your life and my answer will continue being no.”
“Ah~ Always breaking my heart, darling.” Daniel sighed, in that over-dramatic tone that told Roland he was not yet offended by his constant rejection.
It was cruel, but Roland wanted to be the one to ask. As much as he appreciated being asked, and maybe would’ve accepted had it been someone else, there was a part of him that felt much more secure, safer even, asking for such a thing himself.
Daniel could survive ‘having his heart broken’ for a couple more months.
(Besides, marriage would not stop Roland’s jealousy, even if it would be a figurative way to claim ownership of that which he already considered his.)
“We’re both late now, you know… what excuse are you planning to give for that~?” Daniel muttered against the back of his neck, his legs moving slightly, rhythmically. He was starting to get back the feeling in them probably.
“You fell asleep under a pile of gore and I had to dig you out.” That was his excuse every time though.
“That’s your excuse every time, Roland~”
Damn it.
“I’ll embellish it until it sounds believable.” More often than not, a couple of details were enough to have others begging him to stop and just leave it at that. “You were using someone’s inflated lung as a pillow, and were covered by the skin of someone you flayed, so it was hard to find you.”
“Oh~ That’s a little more original.” He chuckled. “What if I was using someone’s decapitated head to rest my feet? Or maybe I was holding their spine like a teddy bear?”
“A bit hard for a teddy bear.”
“I know, but what else could I hold?”
“A stomach?”
“And what? Ruin my clothes with gastric acid?” Roland couldn’t see him, of course, but he distinctly felt as if Daniel was glaring at him.
“You ruin them with blood everyday, Daniel.”
“You can wash away the blood, you can’t wash away a hole, Roland.”
He had a point there.
Roland felt, more than heard, a little yawn against his shoulder, as he continued to walk through what he now was beginning to consider a ridiculous amount of hallways, to finally take them out of the building.
“Are you tired?”
“Hm~” Daniel yawned again, his forehead properly resting against Roland’s shoulder. “Mostly your fault.”
The laugh that came out of Roland was completely unexpected, even to himself. It was just… the way Daniel said such things, sometimes. He couldn’t help himself.
He was cute, for such a violent sociopath.
“Sleep… I’ll wake you up once we’re back.” Roland rolled his eyes, sometimes it appeared as if he was taking care of a child rather than a man capable of leaving him limbless.
“Thank you~”
Daniel kept quiet for several minutes, long enough that Roland thought him asleep. He could fall asleep practically everywhere, if he didn’t have enough caffeine in him — he was worse than a cat, in Roland’s opinion. A man the size of a working dog, with the neediness of a lap dog, but the sneakiness and general smartassery of a cat.
Truly Roland knew how to choose them.
Point was, he thought Daniel had fallen asleep, until he heard the tiniest of whispers against his neck, goosebumps the immediate reaction to both the sensation and the words themselves.
“I love you.” Said with that careful, completely genuine tone that told Roland that — no matter how much he did not want to or was incapable of believing him — Daniel really meant it.
Roland tightened his hold on Daniel’s thighs, murmuring back at him, so quietly Daniel would certainly not hear him. If he wasn’t already asleep anyway.
“I love you too.”
They were going to be in a lot of shit for being so late, but Roland couldn’t care less.