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“You’re like a wild animal,” Rhulk hisses. “So unrefined, so… immature. Were it my choice—“
Nezarec chuckles from deep in his chest. “I know, I know. You’d have left me behind. But it wasn’t your choice, was it? You’re going to have to get used to me.”
“I’ll never understand why the Witness pursues creatures such as yourself. For all the time it’s spent teaching me, it seems to prefer the unteachable.”
“Have you considered that you yourself are unteachable?” He almost sings these words. “You presume to know more than you were ever meant to.”
The Lubraean growls, animalistic in his own right, grinding his sharp teeth under his mask. “You have no place to speak on what I am meant to know. I have seen the Witness’ vision. I have felt the caress of divinity. You—“
“You are but a servant,” Nezarec purrs smugly. “The same as me.”
“I am not like you!” His stoic facade falters, and what is beneath- fury, ruin, a force of raw destruction- shines through. He considers the corrupted Psion a trespasser in his home, now, a disruptive of the normal peace of his Pyramid, and the urge to physically treat him as such is one he struggles to repress.
Nezarec does not smile, his mouth hidden away somewhere on his odd face, his eyes expressionless and stonelike, but his tone indicates one nevertheless. “Oh, but you are. Believing yourself to be something more does not make it so.”
Rhulk thinks to summon his glaive, slivers of Luster flickering around his hand like embers around a flame, but he shuts his eyes, closes his fist and stiffens his posture. The paracausal energy evaporates just as quickly. “You’re wearing on my patience, fiend. Go and gorge yourself on someone else’s misery.”
“Why so hesitant to fight, Subjugator? You’re not… scared of me, are you?” That smugness only becomes more prominent in his tone.
“Scared?” Rhulk laughs, a single, loud bark. “You pose as much threat to me as an insect. I’m showing you mercy, if anything.”
“And why should you?“
“Because,” he strains, “you are my peer. Be on your way… and be better.” He is still envious, still pained by his lowly station, his chest hot with barely-restrained rage.
Nezarec taps the butt of his scythe’s handle against the floor and tilts his head to the side as his body shifts to black and his collar frays into angry spikes. It is an unspoken challenge.
Rhulk cannot resist the urge to meet it. He unclenches his fist as he undergoes a similar change, welcomes the haft of Lubrae’s Ruin into his hand and charges. Nezarec predicts his movement and deflects the thrust with his own weapon. He retaliates with a swipe at Rhulk, which he just as easily dodges. Rhulk leaps to the side and manages a glancing blow to Nezarec’s arm, but only that, before the younger Disciple knocks him away with the dull end of the Night Terror’s blade. He lands in a heap against one of his statues, but it takes him little time to recover, even having been subjected to his peer’s brutal strength. Nezarec strides towards him, slowly, casually, his tattered cloak emphasizing his hulking frame. A petty intimidation tactic. Rhulk knows no fear. He charges again, swiping at Nezarec’s legs with his glaive, and is, in turn, struck about the shoulderblades. He roars, but does not falter, tearing the weapon away, its blade out of himself, its handle out of Nezarec’s hands, paying no mind to the now-widened wound on his back or the blood and resonance oozing from it. He laughs, true and hearty- it’s all a game to him. This only makes Rhulk angrier, and he rushes him again. Little effort is put into evading his quick strike, and so, he manages to reciprocate the injury he received in the form of a broad gash to the side. Nezarec barely acknowledges it. Even unarmed, he’s able to fling Lubrae’s Ruin from Rhulk’s hands with a mere snap of his fingers, but the Subjugator resists the brunt of the attack and quickly proves he is just as suited to fighting with no weapon. He lunges, claws first, and easily manages to force Nezarec to the ground.
“My… you’re strong,” the monstrous Psion says in a mockingly tired tone. “Are you having fun yet?”
He growls and crawls over top of him, wraps both hands around his thick neck, squeezes. He glares daggers at his peer, and he receives no reaction other than that typical, mad amusement. He is furious, so furious, but- there is something else stewing behind that cold and sharp affect of his. A sinful longing, a desperate need. There’s a distinct glint of white as Nezarec reveals his maw, his mask-like face splitting below the eyes into a grin full of jagged, shark-like teeth. Something comes over Rhulk, then, something about their position, about being so close to him, about the tension and the anger and the pain.
Despite himself, he releases his neck from his grip and leans into him, his lithe frame pressing into Nezarec’s belly. He retracts his mask and takes hold of a horn before spontaneously meeting him in a rather aggressive kiss. Teeth click against teeth, his slick black tongue slips into his peer’s mouth, and with how eagerly he wraps his own around it, it becomes clear this is what was the fiend came looking for to begin with. Nezarec’s hands roam over Rhulk’s body, tracing the faintly pulsing golden veins adorning his form. The first Disciple leans further into the touch as he deepens the kiss. It’s sheerly voracious, his mouth wide and his tongue rapid, strange and awkward and hungry, but they can manage nothing less. One of Nezarec’s hands reaches Rhulk’s ass and squeezes, its claws heedlessly digging in. The second skin of his dark suit recedes under his fingertips, and he is left touching bare Lubraean flesh, firm and smooth. He brings his other hand beside the first and pulls Rhulk’s pert cheeks apart, exposing his hole to the cool air of the Pyramid. The Subjugator’s back arches, the overlapping frills upon it tense in anticipation, and he pulls out of the kiss. His six eyes burn into the younger Disciple’s in silent demand.
Nezarec intuits his meaning and brings a hand up to his mouth to slather its fingers in saliva. He squeezes and parts his peer’s ass again before reintroducing the opposite hand, teases and slicks the hole before inserting a finger. It only takes a slight bit of effort to fit it into Rhulk’s velvety smooth warmth. He arches again, spreads his legs and leans back in, this time placing his mouth against his neck. Nezarec isn’t gentle or cautious with his preparation, only giving a few shallow thrusts before adding a second finger, spreading them, prying him open. Rhulk sinks his needly teeth into his neck, and he groans roughly in response. His own armor recedes and he pushes the Lubraean’s hips back down so that he can feel his hardening cock against himself. It swells further as he continues to stretch his peer’s ass and slips into the gap between his muscular thighs- the slightest touch, and already, he feels his expectations will be surpassed. Nezarec adds his third finger and opens him as wide as he can. He holds him like that, then, in hopes that he’ll grow accustomed to the sensation of such wide stretching, as he will need to be if he expects to take him without further injury. His only reward is a harder bite, warmth on his neck, both of his own blood and of Rhulk’s hot tongue as he licks it away. He withdraws, shifts and sits up again, treating the former Psion to a view of his body and his glossy black erection before turning around and positioning his ass in front of his face. His intent is clear- Nezarec marks his thighs with his nails in reciprocation for the punctures on his neck before squeezing and parting his cheeks. His forked tongue spills out once more and pools over Rhulk’s anus; the opening twitches at the sensation, his body tenses. Below, Rhulk grasps Nezarec’s massive cock and takes it into his mouth, works his way down slowly as his peer laps at the rim of his asshole. At his size, the tip is prodding the back of his throat by the time it’s halfway in, and he holds it there, drooling down the rest of the shaft, squeezing his toned thigh tight. He swallows, massaging the shaft with his throat, and Nezarec’s tongue works its way inside him. His claws dig into his skin as he’s held open again, as the muscle thrusts in and out and writhes against his walls. He moans, which only enhances the sensations for the younger Disciple and works him up into a frenzy of enthusiastic tongue-fucking. Rhulk’s claws dig into his thigh, his own cock throbs against his abdomen, even untouched as it presently is. Again, his marking is reciprocated, nails dragging against his ass, and suddenly, he’s deprived of that wonderful tongue, his hole left saliva-slicked and relaxed, but empty, and he is desperate for more. Just as quickly, though, Nezarec replaces it with three equally moistened fingers and shoves him down by the shoulders until he gags on his cock. Foamy white spit spills out of the corners of his mouth. He clenches tight, to no avail. Those same fingers that were used simply to stretch him before are now forced deep inside, curling and probing for sensitive spots as he’s held down and choked by the fat shaft in his throat. He scratches and squirms. Soon, Nezarec finds what he’s looking for, and Rhulk is left whimpering around his length as he strokes the tender gland inside him. He still doesn’t touch his dick, instead simply watching in sheer amusement and arousal as it twitches and dribbles pre.
Rhulk lets this go on for some time, until he’s on the verge of climax, in fact, until he feels the need to prove that he is still in control. He manages to pull off of Nezarec, gagging as his length leaves his mouth, and force his way out of his clutches. He forces him back to the floor with a hand to the neck, threatening to choke him once more, but doing no such thing. Instead, he strokes him and stares into his eyes, his own blazing like molten gold in the dim light of the Pyramid. Nezarec simply chuckles and mirrors the gesture along his waist. The Subjugator kisses him, only a gentle touch of lips over the same spot he’d bitten before, then climbs back down his body, tracing his hand over his heavily muscled chest and his round belly as he does.
He perches himself upon his hips, grasps his cock and guides its tip into himself, sighing lowly as it enters; Nezarec’s fingers sink into his skin, he groans as he feels himself enveloped in silky, yet vice-tight heat. Rhulk speaks the first word he has since he let his urges overtake him, Nezarec’s name in a soft, shuddery whisper. It is delectable to him. Almost as much as the sight of him easing his way down onto his sex so slowly, so carefully. He leans back, his perfect body on full display, his cock stiff and ready. Eagerly, he works his ass in a quick rhythm, allowing a little bit more of the Psion’s cock into himself with each downwards motion. It’s not long before he’s completely hilted, and his partner gawks at the sight of him fully impaled upon his length. Nezarec reaches up, holds him by the hip with one hand, strokes Rhulk’s own as-of-yet neglected penis with the other. With a firm grip, he encourages his movement and masturbates him- and the Lubraean leans forth into his touch, grasps his shoulders, rocks back and forth between the huge cock in his ass and the friction provided by his peer’s hand.
“Nezarec,” he whispers again. He’s panting, his eyes are shut in sheer bliss. “Ah…”
“Yes… Say my name.”
He grunts and digs his claws in. “Nez…” His movements are quick, needy, even desperate. “You…”
“Moan for me.”
The claws dig deeper. “I… don’t take orders… from you.”
Nezarec laughs, but it trails off into his own sounds of pleasure- Rhulk is so delightful, his insides so warm and sweet- he is undeniable. “Of… course,” he huffs, half-sarcastic, half-resigned. “Then… do what you will…” He bucks into him and speeds up his stroking. In turn, he leans in closer and traps him in another hungry kiss. He scratches his back, ravaging his depths as their tongues tangle, both of them breathing hard and heavy. Their mouths completely overlap, as if they intend to devour each other- and the riding only gets rougher, noisier, a symphony of skin against skin and of the two Disciples groaning into each others’ mouths. Nezarec’s knot begins to swell, slowly, hardly even noticeable at first, but soon becomes too thick to fit at their quick pace. He holds Rhulk in place, only for a moment, as he forces it in. Rhulk pulls back and cries out, and it is the most wondrous sound Nezarec has ever heard. The Subjugator slows his riding as the bulbous base of his counterpart’s cock stretches him wider, enough that it verges on being painful, now, and audibly pops back out on withdrawal. He indulges in it, lets the curved shaft press firm on his prostate with each inward thrust, prolongs every outward pull so that he can truly appreciate his girth. The younger Disciple moans at the sensation of his knot entering and exiting, at Rhulk’s delectable tightness drawing him in. Now, Rhulk laughs back at him, and in response, he bites him where neck meets shoulder, cutting the laugh short and turning it into a shocked whine- but he doesn’t slow down. Nezarec growls, the sound muffled by the mouthful of flesh. All the while, he’s still stroking Rhulk off, and when he sinks his teeth deeper, the First Disciple finishes near-instantly, unleashing a scream shaky with conflicting sensation. His cum steadily gushes onto Nezarec’s hand and body and makes a mess of both of them. In his climactic spasms, he clenches even tighter around Nezarec’s shaft, and he releases him from his jagged maw to let out his own rumbling groan as he pushes his knot in one final time. It spreads Rhulk agonizingly wide before slipping in and swelling to its full size. Nezarec only manages a few more shallow thrusts as he pumps his seed in, before he finally lays back and relaxes. Not a drop is wasted, unlike Rhulk’s. Briefly, he thinks to force him to lick it away, or to cover his fingers in it and shove them down his throat, but he simply wipes it away with the end of his cloak while his slender peer remains sat upon his hips.
Though Rhulk’s instinct is to climb off his partner and go clean himself, he finds he cannot remove himself from the tie, and in his exhaustion, he finds he does not care. Even laying on the cold floor suits him fine in this state. He lets himself collapse onto Nezarec, and his embrace is much softer than he would have expected. Three-fingered hands caress him, following the raised lines of the numerous scratches those same fingers left in his dark skin. They’re still sore, but the tender touch is more soothing than anything.
Rhulk smiles, for a moment, running his own hand along his younger peer’s horn. Then, he squints and bares his teeth. “If anyone hears of this, Nezarec… I’ll kill you before you can even think of doing it again.”
The Psion chuckles. “Silly little thing… Have you forgotten? The only one who should matter to you already knows.”