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He was having one of his little fits again. Shivering uncontrollably like he had the first few days of his stay here, hands scattered and trembling, his catlike pupils contracted, slits of jet black in the white plane of his eyes as he moved frantically about your bedroom. To anyone else (anyone sane) this display would be unsettling at best, frightening at worst– not to you. In fact– and although it made you feel a little guilty– you were endeared by it. He was stuttering more than usual now.
“N-no, y-you don’t know, you don’t, don’t know,” He hissed, eyes jumping around as you watched him from the side of your bed, hands between your knees.
“You’re being sss-stupid,” He spat at you. “S-so stupid.” You furrowed your brow at him. The jabs he made at you at times like these stung a bit, but you knew better than to take them personally.
“Hey,” You said, voice low, hoping to get a word in, but he was quicker.
“No, no, no, y-you don’t understand me l-l-like you think you do,” His pacing suddenly ceased and he was looking down at you, standing right in front of you, wild eyes locked on yours.
“I’m dangerous,” he told you.
“Not to me,”
The corners of his mouth twitched, and then his jaw went slack, his face dropping all at once as his body tensed and froze suddenly, ceasing its shivering to hone in solely on you. A single stream of drool trickled down his chin. His pupils were nearly vibrating, black as the void in his stomach. You could see every perfect white tooth behind his chapped lips, bared at you like a snarling dog. Where most of the time you could fool yourself that he was a being more like a person than unlike one, he looked distinctly nonhuman in the eerie green glow from your half-drawn window, his skin otherworldly pale, like an alien or a corpse. He was growling and foaming at you, the only movement in his body the twitching of his fingers and jaw where they ached to shred through your flesh. For a single moment, you really were scared, hot terror rolling down your back.
– but you knew better. You pushed yourself to your feet in front of him so he was forced to look up at you, and you down at him, faces mere inches apart. Softly, you took his face between your hands and traced your thumbs down the sickly bluish of his cheeks. You watched as his eyes twitched, tears welling in them. He was fighting every instinct in himself for you. He was holding himself back with every fiber of his being. He was frozen in place.
“I’m– I’m not–,” He snarled, wrenching the words from his throat “Not y-your pet, you can’t– can’t tame me– I’m fucked-up, I’m f-feral,”
Maybe he wasn’t your pet. But he was yours. You kissed his forehead as you knew he craved to rip into the soft flesh of your throat. You pulled back to look at him, and now tears were streaming down his face in dense tracks. His body managed a single twitch, but his eyes were still locked hungrily on yours.
He’s almost out of it. Just a couple more minutes.
He was coming down from it now, you knew. He was winning the battle over his biology once again, as he had every time before and you knew— hoped— wished— he’d do every time after this.
“You’re not my pet?” You cooed at him, thumbs on either side of his face dipping into his mouth. You ran them along the too-sharp ridges of those pearly white teeth, pressed the tips into the points of his canines. He was shaking again, and rapidly, tears falling freely.
“Mikhail,” He begged, sobbing, trying to wrench his face away. You tutted him softly.
“It’s alright,” You told him, voice quiet. You dipped your thumb back into his mouth, this time between his teeth, letting him bite down on it with a trembling jaw just soft enough not to break the skin. He was so gentle, so precise, even at his most savage.
He regained his control enough to grab your wrist, and he held it there in a death grip, not pushing or pulling. After a few more moments of what you were sure was agony for him, you pulled your hands back and ran them through his hair, pulling him into yourself to hold him as he shook with sobs, chest heaving against your own. You rocked him in a gentle back and forth for several seconds, one hand on his back and the other twined in the hair at the nape of his neck.
After what seemed like ages, he finally pulled back enough to look at you, face wet and eyes red with tears. The sight of him made your stomach twist. You kissed him and he kissed back, falling into it limply, utterly wrecked.
“I think I did a pretty good job of taming you,” You muttered into his neck as you guided him into your lap, resuming your sitting position on the bed. He frowned at you, distressed. He shook his head.
“Mm-m, you d-don’t know me, I c-can’t be– can’t–”
“Down, boy,”
Obedient as ever, without hesitation, he slid from your lap and onto the floor, his pitiful, sweet little face between your knees. You took a second to appreciate the sight of him before you like this before reaching forward to run your hand through his thick dark hair and make a fist at the crown of his head.
“That’s a good boy,” You praised him, and he blinked sluggishly, tilting his head to rest on your thigh, “I’d say you’re downright domesticated,”
“Y-you’re wrong,” He insisted, but his eyes were already losing a bit of their focus as his pupils slowly dilated looking into yours. You petted through his hair a few more times and his eyes fluttered shut. He could never get enough of your warmth. You wanted to lend him all that you had and more.
“Come here, puppy,” You patted your inner thigh. You were already hard, but the sight of him sliding between your thighs and reaching forward to mouth you through your jeans so greedily had you twitching in your boxers. You groaned, letting him work as you laid back on an elbow and used the other hand to tug at his hair. He looked so good there. His eyes slid open once again and his pupils were blown unnaturally wide.
“Aren’t you my puppy?” You asked, both because you hoped it would reassure him in some way and because it turned you on like crazy. Maybe you really were a sick freak like your father had always insisted. You shoved the unpleasant thought aside to focus on more pressing matters.
Your visitor nodded eagerly against your crotch, looking up to meet your gaze as his teeth scraped down the underside of the seam of your jeans. You hissed at the acute sensation and fisted his hair. He looked momentarily alarmed, so you smiled at him, then leaned down to kiss his sweet face. He was yours.
The kiss deepened, and you slid your warm tongue against his cold one, finding yourself once again in awe at the sensation. It was extremely unfamiliar– near extraterrestrial– but not at all unwelcome. You wanted to cover every bit of his cold with your warmth. You wanted to be the one to let him feel the wonderful heat of skin, of sex, of love– well, you’d keep the last part to yourself for now.
He was all over you in an instant, climbing up on top of you and pawing at the bulge in your jeans like the good boy he was, mouth sloppy with impatience on yours. He was already mewling into your mouth from the sheer anticipation. His excitement sent intense waves of white-hot lust through your body. You reached around him to grab his ass and squeeze, and he shivered and craned into the touch.
He was always so needy, so desperate for your hands on him. It drove you crazy– and you were more than willing to indulge him, touching him and grabbing him and pulling at him from every angle you could think of until he was squirming in your lap, whimpering into your mouth as he fought to concentrate on kissing you instead of letting himself go completely.
Your hands found his hips and you pulled them into your own, the hot grind of his groin against yours sending sparks shooting upwards. A strangled moan was wrenched from your own throat as he rutted against you, whimpering soft pleas into your ear, trying to insist to you what you refused to believe was true. That he was dangerous, that you shouldn’t trust him– you couldn’t give less of a shit. Feeling him fall apart like this at your touch, watching him struggle to keep his eyes focussed, hearing the sounds he made into your ear– it was enough to make up for any gruesome death you might suffer at his hands.
When you thought you were nearly about to come in your pants from the friction, you grabbed his hips, forcing them to still, and he whined in protest. You shushed him.
“Get down, boy, you’re not done yet,” You told him as you snapped a hand on his ass, and he went down just as he had before, obedient and keen. You unzipped your jeans with one hand as you held his hair with the other, and he stared hungrily as you pulled your cock out and started stroking yourself, making a display out of moaning at the feeling.
His eyes flitted from your eyes to your dick, waiting for permission, his jaw slack.
“Want a taste, Puppy?”
“Please,” he said, but you shushed him, even as you felt yourself twitch at the desperation in his voice.
“Puppies don’t talk,”
So he cleared his throat and swallowed, then looked up at you with those big, pretty eyes, and he let out one long, high-pitched whimper. You bit your bottom lip to stifle what you knew would be an embarrassingly loud moan.
“Good boy,” You managed to say through the warm static now filling your brain, and you released his hair to let him scramble forward. He grabbed your cock and licked flat from the base to the tip, practically drooling on you. The sensation of a cold mouth instead of a warm one on your cock was something that still came as a bit of an internal shock, but it was never an unpleasant one. It couldn’t be anyone’s mouth but his. You groaned and grabbed his hair once again, this time guiding him toward yourself instead of holding him back.
He was more than eager to please, his mouth on your cock making filthy noises as he tried to take you as far down his throat as he could. He gagged, but immediately doubled down, forcing you further down and holding you there as he squeezed his wet eyes shut with determination. You marveled at the sight of him.
“Fuck,” You whispered as he started to move, your cock throbbing in his throat as he forced it down again and again, head bobbing between your legs, your hand uselessly tangled in his hair.
He pulled back, gasping for air, and thank god he did, because you weren’t going to last long at the rate he was going. He took a moment to catch his breath and you attempted to do the same, even with his bandaged fingers moving up and down your painfully hard cock.
He took you down his throat once again and your head fell backwards, your hips involuntarily bucking forward into him, and he took it phenomenally, cold throat constricting around you. You repeated the motion a few times, and he opened his now-teary eyes to look at you as you did, impossibly dark pupils impossibly massive, face pliant and willing as you fucked into it. You were so aroused that it was starting to make you feel euphoric, searing pleasure shooting up your spine from where your visitor was between your legs, forcing you down his throat again and again, choking around you, cold, thick saliva dripping down your dick. He was so good for you, so perfect, so soft and malleable in your hands.
You watched him intently through the haze of your arousal, unwilling to miss a single millisecond of the scene before you. You wished you had a camera. You wish you could carve it into your brain.
Painfully, with all your willpower, you pulled him gently off you, and he looked up, confused. The loss was almost unbearable, but you couldn’t finish yet– you needed to make him writhe and whimper beneath you. You needed to fuck into him until he saw stars. Until he forgot his own name.
As you blinked yourself back to the present moment, trying to calm your inflamed nerves enough to form a coherent sentence, you couldn’t help but notice that he was shivering again, and a sharp pain shot through your heart.
“Oh, baby, are you cold?” You asked. He just stared at you, unblinking. “It’s alright, you can talk.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I’m-m okay,” He said, and you knew he really wanted you to accept that answer. Instead, you pulled him to his feet and swapped your positions so he was underneath you, still trembling. He didn’t wear that big coat in your room anymore, not after you’d started cranking your thermostat to a sweltering heat at night to accommodate him. He looked especially vulnerable without it, his form slight. He looked as fragile as china under you, and you wanted to wrap him in hundreds of blankets and keep him safe and warm forever somewhere only you knew about. But you’d do the next best thing, for now.
You grabbed a few fistfulls of your comforter and pulled them snug next to him so his back half was tucked in, and then you slid your hands up his sides on either side of the void. He arched his back at the shocking pleasure of relief, sighing deeply at the feeling. Your neglected dick gave a twitch at the sound, and you clumsily shucked off your restrictive jeans without moving your hands.
Once freed, you moved to kneel in front of him, his chest heaving beneath you as he got used to the newfound source of heat. You kissed the trip of stomach that was visible beneath his thick sweater, slowly pushing it upwards as you made your way towards the void, your hands running up and down his sides.
You pulled back for only a moment to look at him in his entirety, his sweater now hiked up beneath his armpits, the terrifying emptiness of the void staring you in the face. Terrifying at first, anyway. Now it was just him. You smiled, affection for him suddenly blooming in your chest. Your eyes flitted down to the noticeable bulge in his pants, and you ducked your head to lick along its length. He twitched and cried out as you did, always so oversensitive, so reactive.
You grinned up at him. His shivering had slowed.
“Any better?” You asked. He nodded, but then stopped and looked to the side for a moment, then back at you.
“Y-you know what warms me up m-most of all,” He said, sheepishly, and you hummed and reached forward towards his void. He gasped as your fingers dipped into its chill, lips parted and head thrown backwards.
“That?” You asked breathlessly, although you already knew the answer. He nodded frantically, grabbing your arm and forcing your sleeve up as he guided your hand further into himself. This alone had him moaning like a pornstar. You shivered, your cock begging for friction, but you forced yourself to fuck into his void with your arm for a moment, watch him writhe beneath you, lips wet and parted, eyes screwed shut.
Soon, his hips were canting uselessly into the air, breathless moans coming rapidly, and you took the opportunity to reach into your bedside table with your free hand to fish around for the lube. Once you found it, you withdrew your hand from him momentarily, much to his protest, to tear open his belt and pants with hands shaking from arousal. You shushed him as you tugged his pants and underwear off to find his cock angrily hard and leaking precum. You wrapped a fist around it and started pumping. He keened.
“Hold on— need to be inside you,” you panted, because you knew he was still feeling the loss of your hand in his void, and he hummed in agreement between moans, spreading his legs for you. You squeezed the lube between his legs with one hand and then tossed it aside, middle and ring finger of your right hand pressing against his opening as you stroked his dick with your left.
He drew a sharp breath in as you pressed your middle finger into him, and you watched his chest expand with it. You sat up to watch his face voyeuristically as you pressed your finger in and out of him, feeling him squeeze around it, his body adjusting to the sensation. His face was flushed a deeper blue, and he looked breathtakingly non-human– like something enchanted, too good for human contact. You bit your lip to stifle a smile as you watched his eyes go wide when you pressed against his prostate and then fought to keep yourself under control as you watched him come undone beneath you while you fucked your fingers into him, scissoring and twisting until you could no longer bear the feeling of your impossibly hard cock twitching at your thigh.
“Good?” You asked as you repositioned yourself above him, one arm holding yourself up beside him as you slicked yourself up with the other. He nodded, eyes glazed over and unfocused.
The pleasure was nearly too much as you finally pushed inside him, holding his leg in the crook of your elbow to push deeper. You didn’t break eye contact with him once as you felt yourself bottom out, and as you started moving, your hips smacking against his ass and his moaning loud and sweet and perfect in your ears, your one coherent thought was “mine, mine, mine, mine,” over and over until your head was spinning with it, until you thought you were going to faint, until you couldn’t get a word out besides it, and he begged into your mouth as you said it.
“Mine, mine, my–,”
You felt stupid. You felt like there wasn’t anything else in the world except for this, that you could live here forever, that he was all that you will ever need for the rest of eternity, and he was yours, yours, all yours, no matter what he said, tried to tell you that he wasn’t good for you, that he was dangerous– it didn’t matter. He was everything. He was all that there was.
He was whining your name into your ear again and again, and you loved how it sounded out of his mouth and no one else’s. You fucked into him and you fucked into his void with your arm and you kissed him messily, obscenely, more tongue and teeth than lips.
You came so hard you thought you really did pass out for a moment, your vision going white and then blurry as your hips jerked deep into him. He came almost immediately after, strangled cries in your ear making your dick throb painfully through the aftershocks.
You sat there together panting for seconds, minutes– you didn’t know. He was all you could see, his pupils absolutely massive, his face flushed dark, his hair incredibly disheveled. When you finally started to come down from the high, you pulled out of him slowly, wincing at the movement, and immediately pulled him towards you– fabric on fabric. You were both only naked from the waist down, and you let out a breathy chuckle at the realization. He was shivering uncontrollably, still dazed, eyes wandering around the room vacantly. You kissed his neck, his cheeks still wet with tears, the dip in his clavicle. Coming back to himself, he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your neck, pulling himself snug against you. You reveled in the feeling.
Several moments of silence passed. You felt like you’d just run a marathon, and were about to fall asleep, when he whispered to you and kissed you gently on the jaw.
“I won’t hurt you,”
“I know,” You said back, immediately, reactively.
“N-no,” He said, voice soft “I don’t mean I know w-without a doubt that I won’t, I m-mean I promise I won’t,”
You knew what he meant. Suddenly, your chest felt very tight. You pulled him even closer to yourself. You kissed him.
“I promise, too.”