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Kuroro tightened his grip on the headboard, his knuckles whitening under the firm pressure. His head was sunk between the pillow and the throbbing neck of a Kurapika who was gasping wildly for air as his nails dug bully into the man's flesh until it bled bright red. They were panting, like two wounded animals, in the middle of their erotic dance that had been going on – for how long? They had lost count of the hours under the creaking of the mattress and the vibrating of their voices cracked with pleasure.
«Don't stop... Don't stop» was the boy's plea, his slender legs were trembling under the circular movements of the Spider's thumb stimulating his swollen clitoris as his bowels clenched and contracted under the frantic thrusts. He was unable to control himself, his head spinning under the influence of the splendid crimson glow of his shining eyes, there in the middle between Eros love and Eris resentment – how many times he had thought he was going crazy because of that antithesis, or perhaps it had already happened, but it seemed absurd to admit it.
«Let go, Kura, like last time, be a good boy...»
And Kurapika hated, how he hated it, that supposed gentleness, that desire to lead that the other tried to assume in such situations as if to overpower him, as if to reverse roles that would nevertheless remain static. But he didn't want to argue, not when his orgasm took over with a spasm, letting it spill onto the burgundy sheets and onto Kuroro's skin, which welcomed every drop, as a poor vagrant does with rainwater.
«Fuck» he simply whined, body and voice still trembling.
«Apparently this beautiful butterfly is falling into the spider's web» the man's whisper came boiling hot to his ear, sweet as the finest honey, as the slow lips reached up to catch his lobe between his teeth – the earring jingled. Then the hunter lifted his eyes, to plant them in the murderer's black ones: how paradoxical was that appellation, when compared with the bewildered look of a child that seemed to have before him the most beautiful and colorful thing in the world. The boy had to give it to him; he had remained true to that expression, the one that since their first meeting had struck him and dragged him down, for never had he felt more appreciated, desired, lov... No, he could not allow it.
Kurapika feigned a smile, then gently grasped the Spider's face and, with a sharp movement, reversed their positions. After leaving him a kiss on the lips, he resumed where they had left off, moving his own hips up and down, rhythmically.
«I am no butterfly, Kuroro» the hunter whispered then, as the pleasure of intercourse took over in him again «You should know well by now that I'm more like a moth...» his voice was softening, taking a shape that the man so much would have liked «And you...»
Kuroro encircled the boy's pelvis with his tattooed hands, in a movement so natural that it seemed their bodies complemented each other perfectly.
«You're not a good weaver, though, and you're not even bright enough to draw me to your light» Kurapika's words suddenly became as sharp as blades, as cold as the Chain Jail that had straight away materialized around the man's neck, clutched even between the meager fingers of the last Kurta.
«Remember well what I am about to tell you: you are worthless as a spider, but I as a moth am looking forward to feasting on your corpse. I will devour you from the inside, Kuroro, and looking at me will be the only thing you’ll do»
The man's heart skipped a few beats before that erotic spectacle, a true pornography of pain that could only bring him to a climax, letting his seed graft wild inside Kurapika to claim a property he did not know whether it was there or not. Little did he care, just as he hardly cared about the air that was beginning to run out of his lungs and the pain the chains were causing. Nevertheless, he still decided to approach the boy's face.
«You can start with my heart, then» he ordered him with a resigned smile. The hunter relinquished his grip giggling, also under the surrendering influence of the other, but he did not hesitate in kissing him, a moment before rising to separate their bodies.
«Choose what book we read tonight, I'm going to take a shower»
Chrollo nodded, his gaze softened as he followed the slender figure of Kurta making his way into the opulent room and then disappearing into the bathroom. He didn't believe, sadly, he was instead quite sure that Kurapika had already begun to devour his heart in reality – but perhaps it was that very realization that still kept him alive.