Chapter Text
The moment Aunt Tess wheeled her suitcase to the car and waved goodbye, Remi knew he was in trouble.
Not because she left him alone in the house. Not because she'd be gone for a week. But because he wasn't alone. Sulk was staying too. And that meant pure, drawn-out, soul-scorching hell.
They hadn't stopped sniping at each other since the first day they met. Sulk, tall and devilishly confident, never let Remi forget he was just a "shiny little summoner in over his head." And Remi? He never let Sulk breathe without a snarky comeback or a smug glare, lips always puckered with disdain.
"You better not touch my side of the fridge," Remi muttered that night, crossing his arms as Sulk lazily leaned in the doorway, smirking like he already owned the house.
"I wouldn't dare touch your precious probiotic yogurt, sweetheart," Sulk replied, his voice a low purr. "Wouldn't want your guts falling apart on top of your already fragile ego."
Remi whipped his head around, eyes narrowing. "You're such a prick."
"And you're such a tease."
That last word hit different. The air shifted.
Remi blinked. "What?"
Sulk stepped forward, slow, deliberate. His boots thudded against the wooden floor. "You walk around this house with your little lip gloss and tank tops like you're not begging someone to bite."
Remi scoffed, backing up against the counter. "You're sick, you know that? Obsessing over me like—"
"Obsessing?" Sulk's grin turned feral. "No, darling. I'm starving."
Before Remi could even snap back, Sulk was already there—gripping Remi's hips, slamming him back into the counter, eyes glowing with something dark and hungry. Remi gasped, caught off-guard by the heat, the pressure, the overwhelming presence of the demon he loathed with every fiber of his body—and secretly fantasized about in every shame-soaked dream.
"Y-You're disgusting—" Remi hissed.
"And you're delicious." Sulk leaned in, breath ghosting over Remi's ear. "Maybe I should shut that sharp little mouth of yours before you say something you regret."
Remi sneered. "Try me."
Sulk did.
He dropped to his knees like a goddamn sinner in church.
Remi froze, wide-eyed, as Sulk grabbed his thighs and yanked him forward, tongue dragging slowly across the waistband of his shorts. "You talk too much," Sulk growled. "Maybe I should use this mouth for something more constructive."
"Sulk—!"
"Shh." He nipped at Remi's inner thigh, watching him tremble. "Just shut up and take it."
And god, Remi did. His head fell back as Sulk mouthed over the thin fabric, hot breath soaking through. Sulk was mean with it—teasing and cruel, dragging his tongue so slowly it felt like punishment. His claws dug into Remi's hips to keep him still, but Remi squirmed anyway, panting, voice already shaking.
"I—I hate you," Remi gasped.
Sulk moaned into him. "Lie to me again, baby."
Then those sharp, perfect teeth scraped just enough to make Remi's knees buckle.
He choked on a whimper. His hands shot down to Sulk's shoulders, desperate for balance, dignity, anything. But Sulk just looked up at him with those sinful eyes and sucked like he was punishing Remi for every insult he ever said. Tongue heavy and wet, pace slow and deliberate, forcing every bit of defiance out of Remi's trembling frame.
"Still hate me, pretty?" Sulk growled, mouth slick, lips red.
Remi whimpered.
"I said—still hate me?"
Remi's head lolled to the side, cheeks flushed, voice cracking. "F-Fuck you..."
Sulk smirked. "Exactly."
He dragged Remi down onto the kitchen floor like a beast claiming his prize. The tile was cold but Sulk was burning, tearing off clothes with a hiss of breath, yanking Remi's legs apart like he'd been waiting for this since the first time they argued.
Remi clawed at his chest, back arching when Sulk pressed inside without warning. It was brutal—a deep, filthy grind that sent sparks exploding behind Remi's eyes.
"Loud little brat," Sulk grunted, moving rough and slow. "But your body knows who owns it."
"S-Shut up—" Remi gasped.
Sulk bent down and bit his throat. "You shut up."
Remi cried out, legs wrapping around Sulk's waist, rocking against him despite himself. Every thrust dragged whimpers from his lips, every bite and grip and press turned his brain to static.
It was hate.
It was heat.
It was everything they swore they'd never want.
Sulk grabbed Remi's jaw, forcing their eyes to lock. "You drive me insane," he growled. "But fuck, you feel so good."
Remi's eyes fluttered, lips parted, completely undone. "Y-You're the worst..."
"Say it again."
"You're the— *fuck—* the worst—"
"Good boy."
Remi shuddered.
They didn't stop until the kitchen floor was a mess of sweat, bite marks, and scattered clothing. Until Remi was limp and boneless beneath Sulk, lips swollen, eyes glassy, mouth still trembling from how thoroughly he'd been ruined.
Sulk collapsed beside him with a low grunt. His voice was hoarse, still laced with something possessive. "Still hate me, sugar?"
Remi glared at him, flushed and wrecked. "Shut the fuck up."
Sulk chuckled, dragging a clawed hand through Remi's hair. "Mm. Not quite yet."
He leaned in, kissed Remi slow and deep like a man addicted, and whispered against his lips:
"I think I'll shut you up again."