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"Down, doggy."
His knees stopped functioning and Mysta fell to the ground. It was either instinctive or a trained behavior, he wasn't sure.
"Bark."
Mysta did.
The way Vox moved reminded him of the way leaves would fall from a tree, pushed and pulled by a gust of wind, smiling at him but not quite. He was graceful and unpredictable and inevitably coming down, and everything Mysta ever needed.
With a gesture, Mysta knew he was wanted by Vox's side, at Vox's feet. He crawled on four, breath heavy, brain blank. Vox handed him a collar and Mysta put it on himself. The inner side of the leather caressed his neck, and the outer scraped at it. It was new. He could still smell the chemicals used to process it. Mysta wanted to think about how Vox decided it was better to discard the old one, but felt like it was not allowed.
Maybe the demon could hear buzzings of his almost-thought, because Mysta suddenly felt a hand placed on the crown of his head. Firm, encouraging.
"Good boy." Vox said, voice sweeter than chocolate.
Mysta sat on his heels, looking up. Vox tucked his red stained hair behind his ear and tiled his head to the side. Mysta followed the movement of his fingers with his eyes. Vox's hands were boney and pale, like every part of him.
"Today," He started. "I have a gift for you."
Mysta's heart jumped at that, then settled in somewhere between hopeful and anxious.
"But, you're gonna have to work for it."
He nodded.
Vox held out his hand, palm open, and Mysta put his own in it. "Good." The demon said before moving them to the zipper on his crotch.
Mysta knew how to do this. Undressing Vox was easy. He'd done it enough that the act became somewhat of a muscle memory. Mysta undid the button then palmed at the bulge behind it, looking up for approval.
Vox made a noise in his throat Mysta recognized as a validation. He opened his mouth wide, letting his thick saliva drop down onto Vox, then went in and licked him through the cloth. He knew the demon liked it when he maintained eye contact, so he did. Mysta knew how to behave.
The wet spot got bigger, and the next thing he knew was Vox being hot and hard in front of him.
"Okay," He said, pushing Mysta's head away. "Now you wait."
Mysta could do that.
Vox scooted back on the bed, legs spread. He had lost his underwear some time in the process. He jerked himself, making filthy squashing sounds from the clear fluid on his cock, then gethered it up on his fingers.
"Look, boy."
Mysta looked. Vox licked the cum-smeared digits, and moved them down to his backside. He was never the type to be modest. Vox knew how to present himself and he did it well. Mysta stared at long fingers going in and out, in and out, and all the blood in his body left their post to go visit his cock. He panted from his mouth, nose no longer capable of getting him enough air. Vox moved his hips up as to let him see better, to let Mysta engrave the picture of the way he so thoroughly fingered himself onto his brain.
He just noticed how Vox's breathing was getting heavy when Vox stopped, removing his hand from himself to take out something from the bedside cabinet.
The silicone in Vox's hand looked heavy. It was black and translucent and attached to an… underwear? Mysta hasn't caught up with what that implied yet, so he just sat there, blinking at the other man.
"It's called a strap-on."
"I know."
"You're gonna use it today. It's the gift, Mysta."
"Oh."
"Come on," Vox said, and Mysta crawled to him. He parted his legs so they were on either side of Vox's hips. Vox fastened the accessory on him, over his erected cock. Mysta wanted to yell; he didn't.
"Looks good."
Vox poured lube on his silicone cock and pulled at it. Mysta felt his mouth watered. He moved to position himself between Vox's legs and looked up again.
The demon looked pleased. Mysta started fucking into him, grunting and wheezing for air. The stimulation was constant but never satisfying. Ghosting over his cock with each thrust. The pressure not quite overwhelming but heavy enough that he felt like he needed to chase after it. The collar scratched at him. His neck was probably bright red at this point, but Mysta couldn't bring himself to care. He pushed his hips into Vox, over and over and over, until Vox tensed up. Mysta almost slowed his pace, because he knew it was ending and he didn't want that, but he couldn't control himself.
Then Vox came, panting hard, body shaking. Mysta looked at his face to see it flushed, not so much that it looked full of life, but it was a beautiful sight nonetheless.
His own cock strained and pulsating under the garment made his legs quivered. "Please," He cried, squealing from the discomfort and bawling out of desperation.
Vox smiled. His eyes crinkled, almost mischievous. "Not yet."
"Please. Please, I need it."
"Be patient."
Mysta growled, loud and hoarse, his face wet with tears. Vox moaned under him,
"Please…"
"My good boy."
Mysta sobbed and snarled, undecided between being angry and eager.
"You are so good at this; at being told what to do and following it." Vox's tone was patronizing, like he was mocking him. Mysta wasn't sure if that was what he intended. "Can you hold it? For now. I'll let you finish tomorrow."
Mysta was annoyed and uncomfortable, but he thought he could, if Vox really wanted it. He could wait. Even though he needed release so, so badly.
He nodded. A small, reluctant gesture.
"Mysta," His voice dripping. "My boy. I have tamed you good, haven't I?"
Mysta agreed, for a moment, before he was suddenly angry. But, he protested in his head–
"I could be wild." His voice shook.
"Yeah?" Vox asked, teasing.
The kiss smelled of blood and semen. Mysta sank his fangs into the demon's lips. It almost sent him over the edge when he thought about how this was where Vox's voice came from — even though that wasn't entirely right. He loved the thought that now, maybe, the beautiful sounds Vox produces might differ slightly because of him. Because his lips got blood on it; because they were bruised and used by Mysta. Because Vox allowed him to.
Ah, he really was about to come.
When they parted, Mysta gave his lips another lick just to taste the acid on them, then pushed Vox down borderline aggressively onto the bed. His hair scattered around him like halo — an angelic radius of black and red.
Mysta teared off the attachment on his crotch and shoved his hips into Vox's face, intended to fuck it, but apparently even that required too much self-restraint and body coordination on his part. He could only manage to mindlessly hump on it like a dog in heat, dragging his cock over the different surfaces of Vox's cheeks and nose and mouth. He whined, and begged Vox for a release even though it was now entirely up to him to get there.
He could feel himself trembling, hands gripped tightly on Vox's shoulders, almost cramping them. He could feel Vox's breath on his skin, not hot like a human's, but hot enough to burn Mysta dust. He could feel his own release coming so close, lurking just over him, just.
Then it was there, and Mysta came. And he cried—again—because it was all so overwhelming and he didn't know what to feel or what to do. He needed, needed–
"Mysta, Mysta."
He blinked through the tears, trying to see through them. Vox was there, under him, on the bed, face smeared with his come. He looked so dirty and so hot, and Mysta felt lost again. Vox reached out his hands, cupping Mysta's cheeks, then shook him a bit to get his attention.
"Mysta."
"Ah, Vox," He opened his mouth and found that his face tasted salty.
"You all right?"
Mysta nodded, then shook his head. "It's– It's too good?" He said, unsure. "And there's come on your face."
Vox made a haphazard motion to wipe it off. "Yeah."
"My come."
"Yes."
Mysta looked at him, almost surprised. "Damn."
"Couldn't have said it better myself." Vox dragged his hands down from Mysta's shoulders to elbows — a small comforting gesture. "Come here."
"Mm," He flopped down, resting on top of the other man. He was pretty sure he got snot on Vox's clavicle. "I'm tired."
There was a hand on the back of his head again, and Mysta felt a hug formed around his body.
"Sleep."
He did.