The single thing that mattered to Ryo was this: his idea made sense.
It was dangerous for Akira to seek his pleasure among strangers, after Silene. Of course it was, when Akira's experience had proven what Ryo was seeking to prove to the rest of the world: anyone could be a demon. Your neighbour, your own family, or even the prostitute Akira chose to warm his cock.
Ryo could tell from a glance, Akira's carnal appetite wasn't satisfied. He wondered if Akira had fucked her, in the end. He wanted every filthy detail, he wanted to know how it felt, Akira's mouth on her nipple, on her cunt, then his fingers, then his—
He was being ridiculous. Akira would have just pressed right into her and fucked her. The state he was in, he wouldn't have the focus or inclination for foreplay at all. Ryo could feel Akira's need, coming off him in waves. His mouth was hanging open, like it was waiting for something to fill it. His eyes were glazed. His cock was so hard that Ryo could see its outline from where he sat, watching Akira sprawl with his back on the floor.
At first, Akira didn't react, as if he hadn't heard Ryo's suggestion at all. It was vexing, but Ryo was prepared to repeat himself if it meant keeping Akira out of unnecessary danger.
But then Akira lifted his head off the floor. His voice was husky, deeper than it used to be, erring on the side of demonic. Despite that, Ryo could still hear the human in him. That was the part of Akira that was making the decisions right now.
"With you?" Akira put his head back down on the floor, gaze sliding off Ryo and to the ceiling. "I can't do that."
He thought he was sparing Ryo. Perhaps on some level he was. Ryo couldn't help the feeling that a toy had been snatched from his reach and it pulled him to his feet, walking across the room until he stood beside Akira's prone body.
This time, Akira's gaze lingered on his face. "You're frowning."
Ryo didn't blink. "Am not."
From up close, Akira's arousal was so thick that the scent of it hung in the air, heavy on Ryo's tongue as he swallowed hard. He wondered when his mouth had gone so dry.
It didn't matter. They had a problem at hand, and Ryo had a solution. Akira just had to listen to it. Ryo stepped forward, until he was standing directly over Akira, one foot between his legs. "Listen to me."
"Ryo." For all the strength lying just under Akira's skin, all the hard lines of his body and how difficult he made it for Ryo to breathe, his voice wavered a little. As if he was relinquishing all control to Ryo in this moment, and that thought was even headier than the fact that Akira was spread out before him, aching for something that he knew Ryo could give him.
It was Ryo who had turned Akira into what he was now: dangerous and devastating and so desperate that he was shaking as Ryo bent over, arms resting on his knees to take a better look at him. Akira was sweating, the muscles of his stomach tensing the more that Ryo looked at him. His breath was coming in quiet pants and it was satisfying, that Ryo wasn't the only one who couldn't breathe.
"I need you ready for next week," Ryo murmured, standing up straight but keeping his gaze fixed on Akira's face. "You need to give into your urges and numb your thoughts like any other human, if that's what you want to be. I made you into this. You're mine. Let me take responsibility."
"Ryo—" Akira began again, but he abruptly went silent at the press of Ryo's foot to the front of his pants. He made a soft whine at the back of his throat, fingers curling into fists at his sides as he mentally struggled between pressing closer or pulling away.
"Let me do this," Ryo said, choking down the word please before it could escape.
Akira exhaled like he was letting go. He stopped tensing, letting his head roll back as he shut his eyes. Ryo ran his toes along the length of Akira's erection, until the bulge of it pressed into the arch of his foot. Akira had grown bigger since taking control of Amon. It was obvious enough at a glance, but Ryo could feel it underneath his foot too. This wasn't human at all, and his mouth felt dry all over again.
"Bedroom," Akira said, his voice so low that it was almost a growl. "It's gonna be more comfortable than the floor."
"You're finally being reasonable," Ryo hummed, leading the way upstairs without a backward glance.
The hunger darkening Akira's eyes was enough to guarantee that he would be following close behind and the sound of his footsteps on the stairs proved Ryo right. Steady and even as they were, there was still a quality to them that spoke of impatience. Then again, Akira was radiating impatience with every movement, his breath tickling the nape of Ryo's neck while matching him step for step until they were in the darkness of Ryo's bedroom, the door shut behind them.
Ryo couldn't remember how it felt to take a deep breath, when all he could manage was something shallow and lacking, as if Akira's desperation was becoming his own. It didn't matter, when Akira was so perfectly following his part of the plan. Ryo knew exactly how this would go, with Akira this needy. It was incredibly satisfying, having Akira in the palm of his hand like this.
"Hey." Akira was pressed up against him, hands on Ryo's hips, teeth scraping against the shell of his ear. "Take your clothes off."
With a shaky exhale, Ryo leaned back against Akira. His knees felt weak, his fingers clumsy. He wondered if it had something to do with the fact that his heart was racing so fast that he could feel the blood pounding in his head, the beat of it matching the throb between his legs.
"Ryo," Akira growled, pushing his pristine white shirt up and out of the way. Akira's hands were hot on his skin as they slid up to Ryo's nipples, cupping at his chest in a gesture that felt intimately familiar and exhilaratingly new at the same time. Ryo's head was spinning, and he fumbled with the buttons at his collar until he could take his shirt off. Akira was grinding against him, kissing every stretch of skin as it became available. His hands were wandering lower now, down Ryo's abdomen and to his hips again, turning him around and pushing him to lie back on the bed.
This wasn't going the way Ryo expected, but he couldn't bring himself to care when Akira's mouth was on him, kissing along the dip of Ryo's hips while undoing his pants. Akira pulled them down, all the way off so he could toss them aside.
The hesitation that Ryo was trying to talk Akira out of was well and truly gone now, but he didn't know what to do with what was left. He thought that this was about Akira getting the pleasure he sought, but that didn't explain why he felt like he was burning up now, or why he felt like he was just as desperate.
"You want me to fuck you," Akira murmured, climbing onto the bed and setting his teeth to Ryo's neck. He reached down, pressing the length of his cock between Ryo's thighs. "You want this."
"You're the one who wanted this," Ryo replied, but his face was flushed and he was hard too. He pressed his thighs around the thickness of Akira's cock and bit back his whimper.
"You want it too." It felt like Akira was teasing him, and Ryo didn't know how to retaliate. He didn't know how to do anything else but press his body against Akira's, wrap his arms around those broad shoulders and ask for more.
"Fine," he relented, digging his short, manicured nails into Akira's back. "I want it too. Fuck me."
Akira grinned, sharp and hungry, and didn't fuck him.
He settled between Ryo's legs instead, bending him in half and spreading him open. Ryo clutched at the sheets as Akira sucked at his balls, biting his lip so hard that he drew his blood. He licked it away, blinking hazily as Akira licked into him, fingers digging into Ryo's skin as he held his legs apart. This time, Ryo couldn't help the noise that escaped him, a dark and needy thing that had him fisting at Akira's hair, pushing his head down to encourage him to keep going. He couldn't see Akira's smile, but he was certain that it was there all the same. He could see the smugness in the lines of Akira's shoulders, in the way he drove his tongue in, in, in, like his tongue was longer than it had any human reason to be. Ryo pulled at the hair between his fingers and Akira growled, biting the inside of his thigh. It made Ryo arch off the bed with a louder cry and Akira's hands were on his hips, the only things holding him up while he thrust his tongue in and out of Ryo, like a pale and unsatisfying imitation of what he truly wanted.
The words were there, jumbled and caught in his throat and for a moment, Ryo was worried that he would choke on them, that they would be lodged there forever when all he wanted to do was to beg Akira to give him what he truly wanted, more than blood, more than demons, more anything else in the entire world.
"Akira," he panted, helpless to do anything but thrust his hips, hoping Akira would push his tongue deeper in. That was all he wanted. Akira, Akira, until the end of days, until there was nothing left but the two of them and this bed and all that they had to give and take from each other. He hooked his second hand under his knee, pulling it up to his chest, giving Akira more room, better access, anything he needed if it meant that he would give Ryo more in return.
He was rewarded with a finger sliding into him, slicked with nothing but spit. Ryo flailed out to his side, grabbing for his bedside drawer, for the lube he kept there because he knew, on some level, that they would end up here. He closed his shaking fingers around the bottle, pressing it into Akira's grip and stuttering on a breath when Akira pressed two slick fingers into him at once, along with his tongue. The blood pounding in Ryo's head was so loud that he couldn't hear anything else, but he knew his lips were forming Akira's name again and again, like it was the only word that he knew, the single word that mattered of all that he knew. He wasn't sure if his voice was cooperating, until he felt it crack as Akira pushed a third finger into him, spreading him apart, and a lesser person, Ryo was certain, would break. Not him. Not when this was for Akira. His body was the only one made for Akira's and he was certain of it in this moment, like some kind of holy truth and he reached down, spreading himself open to help, urging Akira on like every moment that passed was stealing the air from his lungs, leaving him bereft of something that he knew was his.
Akira's eyes were almost black with desire as they met Ryo's, reflecting back someone that Ryo wasn't sure he recognised, even though he knew it was his body, and his desires. His pupils were blown, his hair a mess, his skin glowing like moonlight, and he was ready to consume Akira, to be consumed by him, whichever came first.
Their mouths met in a desperate kiss as Akira slicked himself, pressing his cock into Ryo so agonisingly slow that he could feel the planet turning, the stars spinning, the world moving while they didn't.
"Fuck me," Ryo gasped, turning his face into the pillow, its cool cotton the sole point of relief while the rest of him was hellfire. "Akira."
"Yeah." Akira was on top of him, pressing him into the mattress, surrounding him, mouth on Ryo's pulse point, biting so gently with teeth that could tear the life out of him. He was so big that Ryo felt that he'd split apart and recombine into something more than what he was. Ryo couldn't get enough, nails digging into Akira's skin until he drew blood, feeling it trickle across his fingers and seep under his nails.
Blood, Ryo thought dizzily, and bit his own lip again.
"Wait," Akira panted, leaning down and biting his mouth instead. He tugged and for a moment, the stinging was all that Ryo knew as his lip split, Akira's tongue lapping the blood away.
Ryo scratched him again, at the point where his wings would start when he was a devil. For a moment, Ryo thought he felt them, leathery and strong under his hands, but Akira was still human-shaped, and these were human emotions, lust, desire, love, love, love so fierce that it burned entire nations to nothing but ash.
Rolling them over, Ryo sat astride Akira and held his gaze, lifting himself up before bringing himself back down. Akira threw his head back and roared, more devil than anything else but Ryo didn't care about bringing him back to his senses or balancing him out before the next phase of their plan. All he wanted was this power over Akira, to reduce him to nothing but his howls and scratches as Akira had done to him. There was nothing more thrilling to him than the ability to discover what it was that Akira wanted, and how to give it to him. He could spend the entirety of the next week doing this, and then an eternity beyond that too, discovering Akira's reaction to every twitch of his hips, every slide of his fingers, the pressure of his nails and his teeth and the tightness when he clenched around Akira like he was now, making him arch off the bed and lifting Ryo with him, his body trembling with the need to come. Ryo could feel it, in the pulse of Akira's cock inside him, the way the sheets tore as Akira clawed at them, his teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard that Ryo could see where the blood wanted to spill.
He leaned down, replacing Akira's teeth with his and drawing the blood for himself, drinking it down, giddy and breathless as he whispered the word he'd been holding back all this time, chanting it against Akira's torn lips, "Please, please, please."
Akira understood, as Ryo knew he would. He pulled out, rolling Ryo onto his front so that he was on his hands and knees, thrusting into him without pause, panting against his ear, fingers curled so tightly around Ryo's wrists that he couldn't move them from where Akira held them, stretched in front of him like he was bound, like they were both bound together, and it was that thought filling Ryo's mind as he spilled over the sheets. He arched his back, his moan echoing against his bedroom, broken by the steady thump of his bed against the wall as Akira kept fucking him until it was his turn, pulling back just in time to streak Ryo's back with thick ropes of come, again and again until he was spent.
Ryo was shaking. He collapsed onto his front the moment Akira let go of him, panting for breath, oversensitive and missing the contact all at once.
"You want me," Akira said, breathlessly smug as he lied down beside Ryo.
It wasn't just that. Ryo didn't know how to put it into words but he knew it was more than something that could be reduced into a word as simple as want.
He touched Akira's face, fingers stroking along his cheek, and pulled him into a kiss. He knew, by the way Akira kissed him back, that this was something much more complicated that they could easily put words to. He didn't care.
He felt it for Akira, and Akira felt it for him in return.
The world could burn itself to nothing, and Ryo wouldn't even care. This was all he needed.