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The scent of rust and ichor greeted his nose as Ranvyr slid his blade into the softer flesh of his foe’s stomach. With a flourish, he tore the sword back out, the edge clipping messily on bone and tearing through more skin. The demon let out another gurgling howl as its blood fled from its body with the rapid removal of the weapon, the spray of red decorating the ground and Ranvyr both. With nimble speed, Ranvyr leaped backwards, eyes gleaming with excitement. He licked the blood from his lips as he watched the tanar’ri drop its mace to the stones, hands reaching to grasp at the deep wound as though they might stop the gushing crimson. Meanwhile, Ranvyr observed, watching the growing pool of red between the tanar’ri’s feet for a while before glancing away to look out at the rest of the carnage.
It was a gruesome scene, bodies lying in small heaps, limbs and heads severed and scattered across the ground haphazardly. Senseless slaughter, meaningless and beautiful. In the past, seeing such a miserable mess made of a demon troop might’ve left Ranvyr filled with anger or even dread. It meant he had failed—either he had led them into a trap, or allowed their reckless slaughter at the hands of the enemies. It meant punishment at the hands of the priestesses. But no longer would their lightning burn him, their blades cut his skin. He was free of them, and he intended to use that freedom to cut down any demon or otherwise who thought to bring him back to their prison.
That went for his companion as well. He could only assume that his partner was delighted even more so by the massacre. Of course, he’d never show it, not really. Even now, his voice cut through the rushing of blood in Ranvyr’s ears, the tone dark and syllables tinged with annoyance.
“He’s as dead as the rest of them. Time to go.”
Ranvyr’s eyes raked over the bleeding demon, watching it fall to its knees. The blood gushed from it with the pulses of its second heart, the pool of red growing and growing. Its hands fell to the ground, kneeling on all fours. “Oh, come on. You can’t say you don’t get even a little bit of enjoyment out of this,” Ranvyr replied, not taking his eyes off the demon and the pouring wound. “He’ll bleed out in just a few more minutes.”
It was as though he could hear the sound of End’s eyes rolling through the huff of breath from his nose. “Fine. Stay. I’m going ahead.” End might’ve walked lightly, but Ranvyr’s keen hearing could still make out his footfalls as he stalked off.
Ranvyr finally tore his eyes away, looking after End. “Wait!” He called. End did not turn. His tail swayed left and right over his heels as he walked, his pace even as though he hadn’t heard Ranvyr at all. Frowning, Ranvyr’s grip on Ahnvaeshil’s handle tightened. With a roll of his eyes, a defeated groan, and a quick flick of the blade, he tore through the neck of the kneeling demon with the ease of slicing through paper. Only when he stepped back did a satisfied grin return to his face. After another moment to admire the scene, he turned and trotted after the swift-paced incubus that continued to threaten him with his abandonment. “Alright, alright, I’m done! Slow down!”
In truth, End’s pace was not fast enough to outpace Ranvyr, especially not when he moved quickly. Even End’s long strides, on account of his giant size, were easy to keep up with, given Ranvyr’s constant, swift movements. He jogged until he reached End’s side, until he could peer around to End’s front and lay his eyes upon End’s face. As usual, his expression was dark and brooding. Typical. Any excitement he had put on display during the battle had faded from his face, leaving him glaring with a neutral frown.
It just wasn’t right. They had slain dozens of demons. Surely, End was at least a little satisfied by the events. Ranvyr tried often to understand the melancholy that seemed to haunt End, but rarely felt as though he could grasp it, as though he were only catching the hair of his prey between his teeth but none of the meat.
Ranvyr pulled ahead of End with a few hopping steps. End did not stop walking, and neither did Ranvyr, though he did turn to face End. His legs carried him nonetheless, walking backwards with odd grace despite the awkwardness that any other person might move with. Ranvyr did everything with finesse and fluidity, from wielding a sword, to running and jumping, to retro-walking. His body moved as though it required no thought on his part, round eyes scanning End’s face, then trailing down his neck to his chest, then lower…
“Shit,” he murmured. There was the source of End’s irritability—a deep wound gashed into his core, still spewing blood that soaked into the cloth of his torn shirt.
End pushed a sigh through his nose. “It’s fine. We need to move before they send reinforcements.” He kept walking, even when Ranvyr slowed in front of him. End only moved to go around him.
“No, you’re not doing this again.” Ranvyr’s grin had faded the moment he laid eyes upon the injury, but only when End tried to walk around him did his eyebrows finally furrow in a show of annoyance. “You can’t keep ignoring these things and hoping they go away. It’s too deep for you to heal yourself.” Ranvyr tried to keep the worry out of his voice. End hated it when he fussed over his injuries. Ranvyr assumed it was because it made End feel weak, to have someone concerned for his well-being. It was only for End’s sake that Ranvyr continued, doing his best to seem more annoyed than worried. “If we keep going and another patrol finds us, you’re going to go down, and I’ll have to fight them myself. And you know I’m not fighting a squad without turning.”
They both knew what happened when Ranvyr turned. The beast within him was rarely satisfied with the slaughter of a mere dozen demons. It would want meat, to feel bone crunch in its jaws, to gnash through flesh and sinew. And when the demons ceased their thrashing and went still, there was a chance that it would turn upon whatever else was moving in the vicinity.
End had been forced to fight it more than once. It was clear he had no desire to fight it again when he finally stopped walking.
“Fine.”
Ranvyr gestured dramatically to the ground, beseeching End to sit. With a grunt, he did. Only then did Ranvyr notice the subtle quiver of his legs, the way he winced when his back arched for balance, compressing the wound and sending another pulse of blood into his clothes. Ranvyr’s canines fiddled with the inside of his lip as he knelt at End’s side.
He stowed his sword, took a breath, and then slowly peeled back End's blood-soaked shirt. Other wounds littered his chest and stomach, but they were shallow. "You drained some of the demons before they died," Ranvyr spoke it aloud, not needing confirmation from End. He knew that End had several ways to restore himself during a fight, a tenet to both his skill as a knight of Hell and an incubus. But the easier method of the two, the one that only required a touch, took energy End did not always have. "And now you’re spent." Suddenly, End’s contempt for Ranvyr sitting around, watching a demon slowly bleed to death, made sense. If only End had the resolve left to make use of that excess blood. It was far too late for that now.
The thought suddenly crossed his mind that he had not been paying close enough attention. Perhaps, he shouldn't have been having so much fun, galavanting from soldier to soldier, driving his blade through them and savoring the rush it summoned within him. ‘I should've been paying more attention to him. Then he wouldn’t be so pissed off.’ Ranvyr wore a few wounds from the fight, but nothing that bothered him after the fact.
"What do you want to do?" Ranvyr looked at End. The incubus's dark stare was all that met him in response, cold with frustration. There were two courses of action. Either Ranvyr bandage it with some of their waning supplies, or he give End his life force, again and again if necessary, until the wound sealed over. End could not take it as an illrigger—but he could as an incubus with his draining kiss. Of course, both had their risks. End would still be in danger if another hunting party found them before they returned to their hiding spot, if all he did was clean and wrap it. But life force given to End was less Ranvyr could spend defending them. He could not risk giving too much, not when they were still far from their hiding spot.
‘It will have to be both.’
Ranvyr scampered to the bag that had dropped by his side, shuffled through the contents, and pulled out some bandages and a waterskin. He didn't waste time comforting End—they both knew that the cleaning would sting.
The cool water flowing over the injury seemed to soothe End’s pain, his breathing slowing for a few moments. That was until Ranvyr brought the cloth to it. End's abs stiffened, his back arched slightly beneath him. A restrained hiss of breath drew from between clenched teeth. Ranvyr did not linger, cleaning old blood from the site until he could see the wound more clearly. It didn't look good. Instantly, he knew the source—the saw-tail of an Armanite, probably the one that had led the Tana’ri against them to begin with. Another general, though lacking the prestige of a drow. Poison ate away at the flesh within the wound, turning it ragged and rippling with black veins.
Ranvyr shoved away his worries. ‘He'll take some of my life force, and then it'll heal itself.’ Poisons had never halted End's regeneration before. But still, the sight of the injury made his toes curl, the thought of End feeling the effect of the poison, but saying nothing, sending a wave of worry through him. He tried not to think too hard about it. Nimble fingers wrapped the wound in bandages, maneuvering them around End's middle until they were secured with a simple knot.
Ranvyr looked up at End. The incubus said nothing, only looking back with a bit of venom in his stare. For a moment, it felt as though he blamed Ranvyr for the pain of the cleaning, of the pain of the poison. But then his head lolled back against the ground, and his eyes left Ranvyr to stare at the cavern ceiling thousands of feet above them.
If Ranvyr did not know End better, he might've thought that none of this tending would even begin to make a difference in helping End's mood.
Ranvyr stared down at his companion. His mind tried to find something hidden inside of End, some secret thing he could draw out that would suddenly cure the discomfort that End felt and return him to his normal self. He thought for a while, perhaps too long. End's hands moved to prop him up, the first step in standing and continuing their trek.
"Hold on," Ranvyr's hand moved faster than his mind, grabbing onto End's bicep. He felt it tense against his fingertips, as hard as touching stone. Ranvyr leaned closer, putting a sly smile on his face despite the unease that ran through the back of his mind. "I'm only halfway done."
That seemed to catch End's attention. His brow softened ever so slightly, so subtly that Ranvyr hardly noticed at all. End's lips twitched to speak, but before he could get a single word out, Ranvyr pushed closer, securing a kiss. The muscles in End's arms relaxed in Ranvyr's grip. For a few moments, all was still, neither man breathing.
And when that special, impenetrable moment passed, Ranvyr pulled away. End looked up at him, silent but confused. "Has the poison muddled your mind?" Ranvyr chuckled, enjoying the innocence in End's eyes for the brief moment before his comment made them turn steely. End tried to get up, to push past him, but Ranvyr leaned his body forward, not giving in so easily. "Do you want to be healed or not?" Ranvyr mumbled, the upturn of his lips betraying his enjoyment of the moment.
End did not wait for Ranvyr to lean in again. His spare hand reached up and grabbed Ranvyr by the back of his neck and pulled him in with a sudden burst of force. Where the first kiss had been gentle, like placing one's lips against the petals of the flower, the second was intense. As soon as their lips met, Ranvyr felt a swell of dizziness sink into his mind. His stomach seized as though he had been punched, and he crumpled inwards against End's chest. When his grip on End's arm faltered, End tore it away and wrapped it around Ranvyr's back, restraining him. End pulled away for a moment, long enough for Ranvyr to gasp a breath. And then his lips were occupied again by End's, warm and plush despite the burst of pain that wracked his body.
His back might've arched if End's arm did not flex against the small of his back, locking him in place. His head might've shifted to the side for air had End's hand not held his nape so tightly. He might've begged End to stop, that it was too much, that he needed to still be able to fight, but Ranvyr found that he did not want to.
He wanted nothing more but to kiss again, no matter how much of his soul he had to trade for it.
Ranvyr's fists clenched around End's arms, sliding off of taut muscle, and occupied themselves with his sleeves. End's hand released the back of his neck, but before Ranvyr could think to move his head away, End was rolling. Ranvyr's back landed hard against the rocky ground, a stone digging into his shoulder and making him squirm to relieve the discomfort. But the whole of End's weight pinned him there before he could shift the rock from under him.
End's hands wrapped around Ranvyr's forearms and wrestled them against the ground. Ranvyr's wide eyes stared into End's. The burning fire within the incubus had returned, fueled by Ranvyr's drained life force. Ranvyr swore he could see the flicker of hellfire behind End's magenta irises. He was speechless—partially because his stomach still felt compressed, as though all of the wind was still in the process of being kicked from his lungs.
End had no such trouble speaking. "I know what you want." His voice was sultry and smooth, so different from the tension of mere moments earlier.
Ranvyr nodded, lashes fluttering as though they could blink away the foggy cloud that had settled in his mind. His head hurt as though he had been throttled, the nausea in his stomach swirled uncomfortably, and that annoying stone still dug into the blade of his shoulder. But he still wanted it—he always wanted it.
"Then you'll give me what I want." End did not wait for a reply, leaning in again. Ranvyr's head tilted away, instinct demanding he try to avoid the pain that would come the moment End's lips touched his. But he was not swift enough, even if he had the room to maneuver. Not with his head swimming, his thoughts scattered. His fingers clawed against the stone floor as End's lips made contact with his and another wave of nauseous pain rolled through his entire form. Each muscle in his body tensed, straining against End's weight but unable to push him off. Blood rushed to his face. His vision blurred, not from the dizziness, but from tears beginning to fill the space between his eyelids.
A giddy lightness flooded his chest as he felt End's tail glide over his ankle, snaking into the leg of his pants. He did not resist as End pulled his arms above his head and wrapped a large hand around Ranvyr's narrow wrists. The other rapidly undid the straps that held together Ranvyr's top with practiced ease, as though End had been rehearsing the movement in his mind in preparation for this moment. Ranvyr wrestled with his mind, his body still twitching with the random shocks of pain that sent sparks through his muscles in the aftermath of End's kisses. How many had there been already? How much more did he want?
He would give it. End could have it all, if he wanted.
End kept his hands pinned above, but the rest of his body moved lower. Ranvyr at first tried to look down to see what End was doing before his head threw itself back as he felt a jolt race through his chest. The first scream tore from his mouth, sharp and insistent.
End's lips slowly traced the scars on his chest, some kisses soft and airy, others sending spikes of pain that curdled in Ranvyr's stomach and made his body shiver and spasm. The light-headedness grew more and more until he could not think anything at all—reduced to an unthinking beast that only knew lust and wanting. He could not control the sounds that left his parted lips, gasps and heavy breaths at first turned to needy moans and pained whimpers. The water rose above the crest of the dam—delicate tears caressed his cheeks.
Ranvyr hardly noticed End fiddling with his belt, the button of his pants. The first sign of his nakedness was the cold of the air against the skin of his thighs, a sensation that stood out starkly compared to the electrical shocks of pain that began to radiate from his chest. The second sign was the feeling of End's hand wrapping around him, fingers curling around his cock. Ranvyr's eyes rolled back into his head in ecstasy for a moment as End's hand moved down the length, starting at the base, until his thumb could play in small circles against the tip. A new type of shiver ran through him, one of pleasure and overwhelming sensation rather than pain.
That was when Ranvyr finally found it within him to look down. End had somehow undone both of their pants and removed them through the combined dexterity of his free hand and his tail. He must have done it during the barrage of kisses to Ranvyr's middle, a series of wounds combined with softness that had made noticing anything about his surroundings entirely impossible.
End must have been watching his expression—the moment Ranvyr sought him, he found End's eyes already locked onto him. End watched him with only the faintest hint of a smile. Ranvyr gasped and panted, not caring that he surely looked like a mess. He could feel the cold air against the tear streaks on his cheeks, the way his hair stuck to the sweat on his neck and forehead. And of course, he knew the desperation and pleading of his eyes.
With Ranvyr watching, End leaned down, not breaking eye contact. Ranvyr's body twisted under End, his hips bucking to the side, but End's knee kept him from wriggling far. End did not move any faster in the wake of Ranvyr's panicked escape attempts, his pace even and excruciatingly slow as he inched his lips closer and closer to the divot of Ranvyr's hip. The drow let out a whimper of anticipation, more tears rising. But he could not blink to roll them down his cheeks. His eyes were set as though he were in a trance, watching End inch closer and closer.
His breath hitched as he felt End's breath hot against his skin.
And then another electric jolt of agony ripped through the sensitive parts of him. His body folded upwards, spasming, but End's hold on his wrists kept him from sitting upright. Another scream ripped from his throat, but as soon as it left him, he could not help how it turned into a moan as he felt End's tongue drag across his skin, closer and closer.
He couldn't look away as End pulled back, meeting his eyes again. His lips pursed slightly, and he moved lower. Ranvyr's voice rose in small squeaky cries with each panting breath as he stared, nausea so thick it made inhaling painful. End's thumb ran in another pleasurable circle, then another, and then pulled back as his lips approached.
Ranvyr's breath hitched in fear. "W-wait, nonono." He couldn't get his mouth to make another word, too shaken was he, too lost in the pain and the pleasure both, too enthralled in the moment. But End paused nonetheless, not needing anything else. He said nothing, only blinked, his eyes losing their fiery intensity in exchange for a flickering warmth.
Quickly but gently, his lips tapped the tip of Ranvyr's cock. There was no pain there. Just a kiss, soft and warm and delicate. Ephemeral.
Ranvyr's nose sniffled as the fear dwindled to a tiny point within him, back how he preferred it. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the last of the tears run down his face. End still watched, waiting. One hand still held Ranvyr's wrists firmly; his other stayed wrapped around his dick, but he did not move again until Ranvyr's eyes opened. The feeling of End's hand around his cock, unmoving, made Ranvyr's hips writhe with desire. But his arms slackened, and his core lost all tension. He still could not find any words, not really, just the low hum of desperation. He wanted it still, just not that sort of pain.
End did not require any more words to know Ranvyr's needs—his body made it clear to them both. End gave Ranvyr's cock a few more gentle strokes before he released it to hold onto Ranvyr's waist instead. Almost as if by instinct, Ranvyr tilted his hips upwards, his mind still foggy.
The longer it took since the last time End sampled his soul, the more his thoughts cleared. If only it did not make his stomach so sick, he wouldn't mind it so terribly.
Ranvyr's lips quivered, a gasp fluttering from within his throat as he felt End press against him. His asshole pulsed in anticipation, eager to receive. First, something small slipped in. Ranvyr breathed a low whine, excitement beginning to build as he felt the exploratory finger move and stretch him. He let his head fall back, not caring how his hair stuck to his sweaty arms or the tear streaks on his cheeks. He awaited bliss.
His jaw dropped, a loud, pleased moan pouring from his mouth and into the chill of the air as he felt End sink himself inside. It twisted in the air around End's exhale, more subtle but just as satisfied. For a second, they revelled in the sensation, before End pulled back just enough to thrust in deeper. A pulse of pleasure as he hit just right, another rumbling sound, not unlike a purr, rolled from the back of Ranvyr's throat. His hands grasped at the air, the desire to grab onto End by the shoulders and draw him in deeper so strong that only End's restraining hand kept his nails from tearing into blue skin. But End was in total control, moving at his leisure. He pushed his cock deeper and deeper with each thrust. Ranvyr's asshole twitched before tightening, drawing a low moan from End's lips that left Ranvyr grinning.
Slow at first, it was as though End could not help himself. His hips moved faster and faster, the hand that held Ranvyr by the waist tightening. Ranvyr's legs curled around End's sides, pulling him closer and closer. When it became obvious that the angle would not satisfy him, End slid Ranvyr closer, finally dislodging the stone that had been digging into Ranvyr's back—the stone he had all but forgotten about in the midst of everything else. End perched Ranvyr's hips upright beneath him so that he could thrust downward, pounding deeper than before and drawing moans louder and louder from deep within Ranvyr's chest.
The pleasure built and built, blotting out any of the pain that had lingered in his body, hiding even the sickness in his stomach that had at first been distracting.
He looked down and, for the first time, his thoughts clear enough to think more than before, he noticed End's bandage. Blood had soaked through it, darkening the pale bandages.
"Kiss me," He murmured between gasps. End did not reply, if he noticed him speaking at all. Ranvyr looked up, eyes lidded with pleasure, and his mouth hanging open as he panted for breath. End wasn't looking at his face, eyes trained downwards. "End, kiss me," Ranvyr said again, straining his neck to get his lips closer to End's.
They brushed for a mere moment, as End's thrust drew him closer. Maybe End hadn't heard the request. But the feeling of his lips against Ranvyr's was enough to make him snap to action. He leaned down, his lips locking with his partner's. Ranvyr's eyes rolled back a moment before they flicked closed. He felt End's tongue brush the inside of his lips, a caress, a 'sorry' perhaps, as though Ranvyr had not offered him his life willingly. A growl tore through Ranvyr that ended as a whimper as he felt another pang burst through him, his lips numbing instantaneously in the wake of End's power. His eyes flashed open, and his body jerked, his asshole tightened suddenly, just as End thrusted inward again.
All at once, he felt the pleasure overwhelm him, his body arching, and the growl of pain turning to that of ecstasy as he came. His rigid cock released its load across his stomach in time with End’s, filling Ranvyr’s insides while his own decorated his skin. Ranvyr could feel his cock’s twitching synchronize with End’s as he struggled to catch his breath. There was a serene peace, a lightness about Ranvyr’s mind. He teetered on the edge of something else, too, though he wouldn’t admit it. His vision was going black at the edges. He couldn’t feel his fingertips even long after End had released his wrists.
He gasped as End pulled his cock from his ass. Threads of cum connected the tip of his dick and Ranvyr’s ass for a few moments until End moved far enough to break it. Ranvyr didn’t move, his thoughts swimming. He waited for them to still, but found that the light-headedness was far more stubborn than normal.
“I think… fuck, now I’m spent,” Ranvyr cursed, trying not to move his head.
End chuckled. “In more ways than one.”
Ranvyr kicked End’s shin lightly from where he lay, not hard enough to hurt. “It’s not my fault you’re a greedy lover.” He teased, smiling despite the inability of his eyes to focus on End’s face.
“Mhm. And who offered?”
Ranvyr could hear End’s buckle jingle as he collected his pants and put them on. Slowly, Ranvyr tried to roll over. He groaned, a severe ache stabbing into the back of his skull at the mere suggestion of moving. He pushed past the feeling, the nausea that had returned with vengeance, until he was on his side. Slowly, his hands pushed him into something that almost appeared to be a seated position.
Behind him, End took a refreshed breath and spoke. “I’m going to scout our spot. Make sure there’s no one there. And you’re going to slow me down if you try to come with. So you’re going to stay here.”
Ranvyr tried to look at End over his shoulder, but the movement of his head made him too dizzy to stay upright on his hands. He let himself fall back to the ground, defeated. “You can’t leave me here,” He remarked, nose wrinkling in defiance he could not afford.
“It’s safe. If there was anything around, they would’ve already shown up. You were loud enough to attract anything within a mile radius. There’s plenty of cover in the shadow of the hill. Not even the fliers will see you here.”
End’s eyes watched Ranvyr as he struggled to move with a certain self-satisfaction, a smirk finally cemented on his face. ‘A smirk I worked my ass off for.’
“Fine.” Ranvyr let his head fall back against the ground, giving up on moving once and for all. His head hurt. His stomach hurt. His whole body hurt, except for his dick, which still felt lovely and warm. “Just help me put on my pants first.”
A chuckle rang from where End stood, followed by footfalls as he headed in the direction they had been walking to begin with. Ranvyr tilted his head just enough to watch him go. The ground was cold against his naked ass.
“Rude!” He called out after End.
“That’s nice.” End’s voice already sounded far away.
Despite the humiliation of it all, of being left half-naked on the ground to the side of a trail, totally at the mercy of End’s swift return… Ranvyr could not help but find himself smiling. He let his thoughts roam as his capacity for them returned. ‘Fuck, the things I’d do for that asshole.’