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The window curtains were drawn shut, as well as those around the bed Alastor was lying in.
Shadows swallowed Alastor's surroundings, making the blue glow of Vox's body even more mesmerizing.
Before the heat fully hit him, Alastor wondered how was the body still functioning when it's head (the main power generator and control centre) was gone and not directing electricity into it. The heart, which Alastor almost tore his way to while they were fighting, was some kind of diamond shaped metal thing that did not look appetizing at all, but it was still capable of sending weak bolts of electricity through the body.
Alastor guessed that it was a leftover energy (powered by angelic power) that would run out at some point, and the body would finally start to rot. By his calculation, it should last enough for his heat to end.
Alastor had stripped the body first, torn shirt and coat, blood and mud-soaked pants and boots. Gently, as to not damage it any further, he washed it with a washcloth, sew what he could and used body lotion to make it more pliable.
Maybe because of the way the body was separated from the head, at the peak of insanity so enormous and endearing it made Alastor salivate, the muscles were clenched, stiff and unflexible. Nothing warm water and body lotion couldn't fix.
Alastor could confess, only inside his head, that there was an appeal to Vox's body.
A thing of curiosity, that head of his, yes, but the rest of it as well. The neck was not made of tendrils, veins and meat, but some kind of synthetic skin, wires and cables. The shoulders and arms, however, were meat, muscular, and fit for biting.
So was Vox's chest and stomach, although it was a guesswork where meat ended and wires began, at places so intertwined they were inseparable, and Alastor wondered if that was a reason Vox smelled of burned meat at times (especially when he got flustered – was his picture box literally melting his brain?).
The gills were an unknown territory to Alastor. Although he knew they functioned as vents and such (as Vincent had explained such a long time ago), there was no reason for them to get wet when Alastor pushed his fingers in. No reason for them to get wetter when Alastor parted them, when he pushed his fingers in and out, put his lips to them to nibble and bite, licked into them and sucked.
Ridiculous creature, with ridiculous body, his old pal.
Vox's feet were more human-like than Alastor expected. Given his few shark features, ankles were not on Alastor's bucked list, although claws instead of nails made sense. His shins and thighs had more meat on them, and the higher he went, the more of it there was.
Spreading the thighs apart, Alastor put the right leg over his shoulder, so he could nose at the crook between the thigh and groin. The smell was of metal, sea salt and electricity. It was a sharp smell, cutting through the haze of Alastor's mind that he appreciated.
Mounting at the flesh, when he bit down, the blood tickled into his mouth and Alastor had to decided between sucking out more of it and tearing out the flesh.
Mouth still swallowing blood, Alastor side-eyed the twitching cock near his face.
Huffing a laugh, he was honestly entertained and not at all surprised.
“You pathetic, degenerate mess.”
Bruising the thighs in his hands, it was as if the body could hear him, as it twitched with small currents of electricity.
Alastor could feel himself slowly burning up more and more, sweat starting to run down his naked back and soaking into his tail. There was slick between his thighs and it was a question of time before waves of it covered him and covers under him. If he even felt like it, he could gather it between his fingers and use it to open the body under him. Loosen up the hole that, hah, hilarious, was clenching around nothing.
“A pervert, aren't you, sweetheart,” Alastor said to the body with an amused smirk.
Alastor imagined lowering his head to take a lick, to nose the heavy pair of balls, maybe even taking the half-hard cock into his mouth until it was fully hard and ready for him. An idea that would make him unwell, making his stomach turn in distaste, had he not been in heat.
And maybe it would happen at one point, before tipping into feast, his mouth devouring the flesh under his teeth and on his tongue. The blood would cover the urge to vomit and Alastor would be less miserable with his body making him do such things and all would be well.
For now, Alastor's hand made a way between his thighs and with new wetness stroked the body under him to full hardness.
Letting go, he laid down into his nest on his back, starting to breath with open mouth and antlers breaching out. With half-lidded eyes, Alastor used his shadow tendrils to pick Vox's body up.
In the dark, and with only the faint blue glow of the body, it almost looked like it was moving on its own.
Alastor's breath caught and his cunt throbbed.
“Come here, Vincent.”
Holding onto the pillow under his head, Alastor moaned as his body was breached. Agonizingly slowly, the fat head stretched him deliciously, slowly entering him and then pulling out, entering him a bit deeper and pulling out, over and over, until he was full and stretched just so. There were still some inches of the hard length left (Vox overcompensation of literally anything manifested, given that Alastor knew Vox could swap his genitals at will, strange machine that his old pal was), but Alastor had no interest at the moment to push them in.
No matter how the body twitched, how the current run across its skin and how it almost seemed it wanted to thrust into him, Alastor's priority was his own pleasure.
The pleasure of feeling his inner muscles clench, the slide of movement inside him filling him just how he liked, and the faintest pressure against his clit with every drag of the cock inside him.
Many things Vox was, and vain was among them, Alastor could appreciate the results of his insecurities and faults – especially when their benefited him.
Now, not having to even move his hips and feel shameful about it (while he still held onto a slight resemblance of a reason), Alastor enjoyed being fucked roughly into his bed, not having to do anything and not having to be conscious about being watched and judged from partaking in a pleasure of a body.
At some point, without his input but by instinct, his tendrils guided Vox's hand to Alastor's clit, teasing and touching, and the bolts of electricity to it send Alastor over the edge several times.
All the while he was fucked, or just filled without movement, the body about him was not able to find any sort of relief and was only being used as a glorified sex toy.
At the back of his mind, Alastor wondered, if it would be able to get up if it orgasmed.
To himself, he could confess, as much as he would like being filled like that, he also preferred being fucked.
On his stomach, with a pillow under him and ass up, Alastor felt the heavy cock dragging itself between his cheeks, teasing, before slipping into him and a full bodyweight landing onto him. Hands were grasping at him, pumping into his cunt and while they did not measure to the cock inside his ass, Vox had much bigger hands that Alastor. His fingers were also longer, and could reach deeper than Alastor's own.
Panting and moaning, the position made it easier for the other hand to bury itself in Alastor's head, and raising it up. The sounds Alastor made echoed around him and a part of him wondered what part of him would direct the tendrils to do that, when as part of him, they would not make him deliberately hear himself (no matter how good the punishing touch felt and how better it could have felt were there teeth in his shoulder or throat).
At one point, he was turned on his side, his thigh clasped in a parody of what Alastor had done to Vox's body earlier, and lifted over the body's shoulder. Now, thrusting into him deeper, Alastor stopped caring about the embarrassing sounds leaving his lips, and only cared about his hips meeting the violent thrusts shaking his body.
The sounds were violent, rough, the last inches that Alastor did not entertain before entering him without his conscious input, making him gasp for breath and blink tears into his eyes. Moaning, lost in pleasure, he did not register his tendrils not moving the body in the capacity they were meant to. He did not register the body moving on its own, claws moving to his hips to pick him up and make him sit in its lap, on its cock.
Alastor's own cock was weeping with precum, his front rammed into by the body under him. As claws were digging into him and drawing blood, without thinking, Alastor embraced the headless corpse and sunk his teeth into its shoulder, riding the orgasm wrenching his body.
Vox's body spasmed, finding its release as well, filling Alastor and making him sag in satisfaction.
Days and rounds of sex would pass, and only after his heat ended would Alastor realise, that at some point, the body had moved on its own.
He ate it, just to be sure, and prayed to anyone who was listening, that Vox had no idea what he had used his body for.
Alastor was mortified.