InsaneJournal

[Weiß Kreuz] Song of Solomon
Title: Song of Solomon
Author: trio
Fandom: Weiß Kreuz
Pairing: Farfarello/Aya
Prompt: Poetry
Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz is owned by Takehito Koyasu, Marine Entertainment, Project Weiß, and associated parties.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings and Notes: sex, violence, bloodplay

There was something delicious about playing with danger. It dove under his skin, leaving him itching with the need for more. Aya lingered outside, in the shadows near the mouth of an alley, and he waited, knowing that the predator out there was coming for him. And he could do something about it. He could make it better, given half a chance. Because he knew.

The arms curled around him from behind, tugging him back into the alley, and Aya went without a fight. Even as he tried to turn his head to look at the man behind him, he was shoved up against the dirty brick wall, a knife sliding down his back, into the waistband of his jeans. The old, careworn denim parted easily, and the knife slid down. Aya shuddered at the feel of cold metal against his ass, and then he groaned as the hand around his throat tightened a little. Before he could hesitate longer, he spoke, his voice a rough whisper not unlike the half-crumbled brick he was pressed into.

"My lover is mine and I am his; he browses among the lilies."

Just that, and the reaction is instantaneous, palpable. Farfarello growls low in his throat, jerking the knife down, and with the thin line of red, away come jeans and boxers, leaving Aya's body bare to the Irishman. Another moment, and Aya can feel the hot column pressing into him, inexorably moving forward despite the lack of lubricant, ignoring that Aya had not been prepared. And Aya's hips arched back, meeting the punishing thickness, welcoming it.

Tears lingered on his cheeks as he gasped, taken violently, the knife moved to his throat and pressing ever so slightly inward. The scent of blood and sex lifted, mixing with the stench of the alley. Aya gasped when Farfarello suddenly decided to shove himself fully in, tugging back out to push in just as hard a second time. They stayed locked together like that until Farfarello finally stopped pumping, the knife in his hand pressing in just hard enough to leave a thin, red line at Aya's throat as well as along his ass. And then he pulled out and was gone, leaving behind only a shaken, gasping assassin who hadn't found release.