Beautiful Killer

[Ryang Jaesung]

There was no art to Jae's touches, no subtlety in the way his hands roved to obvious places. He was barely human and mostly animal, turned feral by the virus that had claimed him and countless others. Nothing close to guilt or shame or sympathy was felt, either; there was no reason to feel any of those things. This was simply the natural order of things--it was the way things had to be between them.

He was pleased, however, as his ministrations evoked a response out of Gunji. Maybe the response wasn't exactly enthusiastic but it was a far cry from struggling and maintaining that they weren't doing this. Jae's lips curved into an almost smug smile as he slid into place behind Gunji, hands stroking long, long lines down his back, nails clipping the cool wetness of his skin.

Rain still lashed down on them; wind howled in their ears, drowning out the softest of contented rumbling issuing from the back of Jae's throat. His fingertips followed the slight curve of Gunji's spine to his ass. He parted him, with hardly any thought for preparation. Lube? Condoms? Not in Jae's world. The only warning he gave was the nip of sharp teeth against Gunji's shoulder--a nearly playful gesture--and the shift of Jae's hips as he aligned himself into place. Then he pushed into velvet heat, riding a slow and steady rhythm almost immediately, with hardly any time for adjustment.

Jae rolled his hips as his head dipped low; his tongue flicked out, tasting the dewy rain, the faint sweetness of Gunji's skin at the back of his neck. He growled--Mine--possessively as their bodies met pleasurably, came away and met again, though far less violently than the struggling earlier. Jae wasn't careful but his purpose wasn't to rip Gunji apart, either. Gunji was a vampire, anyway; he could heal himself afterwards off of any unsuspecting human's blood. Jae wasn't worried about hurting him; he had his own selfish desires to satisfy.

[Tak Gunji]

(HOLY SHIT IT'S BEEN A WEEK. BAD RPER BAD.)

Throw him off. For a second, he tensed, thinking about it, really thinking about it. But he'd already let himself be cornered and some part of him was self flagellating for all those people he'd harmed and taken against their will. Perhaps not in the same way that Jae the Wolf was doing to him but really... how much of a difference was there? In the end, they were just monsters with appetites for things that they never would have longed for if they were just human.

Knowing nothing about this particular wolf, Gunji couldn't say whether or not he had ever been human or if he had a past as one the way Gunji did. If he was born this way, maybe he never knew what it was to feel guilt. Funny. The way humans spoke of them--vampires, werewolves, whatever was not human like themselves--they made it sound as if they had no soul and no capacity for feelings of guilt, sadness, regret. Only humans could have that privilege. Personally, Gunji wouldn't call it that. It was more a curse than anything else, when it was necessary to feed on a human.

When it began, he didn't know how not to kill them. When he learned the delicate art of feeding on a human just enough to get what he needed without killing them, it was too late. How many countless human bodies littered his past? Even shedding that past for a new life did no good.

The thoughts and regrets hurt more than anything that the wolf could perform against him physically. Still, it was hard not to let out a small, muffled cry as Jae entered him without so much as a warning. If that bite against his shoulder was meant to warn him--it didn't work. It only distracted him for a split second before heat--hard and unmerciful--invaded his body. His fingers curled inward until his fingernails bit into his palm. Nowhere to move, nowhere to escape as he was pressed up against the rough, wet surface of the abandoned house's wall.

Through a delicate rivulet of rainwater, his gaze crossed the side of the house. He watched the wind blowing through the trees, bending them to their will. When he closed his eyes, he almost felt like a tree bending to a storm. The most remotely pleasurable part was the tongue against the back of his neck. It sent a shiver down his spine. The good kind, the kind that spread warmth through the back of his skull and through his nerves. If he focused more on that, he could almost pretend somebody else held him close, that somebody else was fucking him.

[Ryang Jaesung]

( 's all good.)

Jae let out a noise not unlike the roar of the wind and the storm and the thunder crashing down over their heads, wild, feral and untamed at the height of ecstasy. But then it was over, with one last spasm that took him deep inside of Gunji, emptying all of the fire and the heat into his unresisting body. Jae would have liked him to put up more of a fight... but he wasn't complaining.

At least he was coming out of this relatively unscathed, with only a bite on the shoulder.

Almost affectionately, he nuzzled at the back of Gunji's neck, with a pleased and satiated wolf-like growl. Afterglow was a brief moment of peace, when the storm inside abated while the one outside raged just as fiercely as ever. Jae closed his eyes momentarily; the warmth between their bodies lasted a brief heartbeat. Then, not particularly carefully, he pulled out and stepped away, studying Gunji's bowed back. The trickle of something dark slipping down between his legs, mingling with the rainwater that slid in rivulets against his pale skin, made Jae smile--grimly.

Without a word, he shifted again, smoothly assuming the bulky and ferocious form of a large gray wolf. The golden eyes still pierced through the darkness and blinked once against the sheeting rain. Then he turned away.

[Tak Gunji]

Next time I won't let him corner me.

Next time.

There would be no next time, if he could help it. He knew now that the wolf was out there and he would feel him, his gaze on him wherever he stared at him. There were so few places they could go. So few places Jae could go without killing somebody or arousing suspicion. As he drew in a last ragged breath out of sheer habit, he let himself fall against the wall to stop himself from dropping down to his knees.

For some reason, his knees felt weak. Shame. Humiliation. He turned his gaze downward, bit his lower lip, kept his fingers curled tight. His toes were curled tight too. The absence of the weight against him felt oddly as if it was being robbed from him, leaving him empty and spent, and raw. He only caught a glimpse of golden wolf eyes after Jae shifted before the large, feral wolf turned away, apparently satisfied.

Maybe he'd never come back. He seemed to enjoy the fight. Maybe when Gunji stopped fighting, he lost complete interest. Good, he thought savagely at the wolf as it lazily moved through the darkness. Gunji's limbs trembled and he barely had time to turn before he was crumpling to the ground, knees drawn close to his chest. For a long moment, he remained there, mind blank and gaze hollow before he slowly reached for scattered, sopping wet clothing. His fingertips brushed cloth, probably his shirt. Too wet now to be deemed useful. He drew his hand back and stayed there in the rain and cold, eyes on the dark.