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Killer isn’t a very patient person. So much is clear by the frantic way he’s scrubbing out crusted dust and blood from between his joints so that he can get the fuck outta here. He already took a shower, washing away the worst of it, but the traces of gore stuck in the nooks of his joints are stubborn , sticking around until his hands turn red and irritated from the scrubbing.
It’s not that he hates this place- quite the opposite in fact- but sometimes it’s simply too much. Too quiet, too cold, too empty, especially after he’s just slaughtered his way through half an underground for a mission and now has to sit around in silence as the others are doing much the same. Night’s castle is simply like that. Quiet. Empty.
He really can’t fucking stand it right now.
“Oh, fuck this bullshit -” he snaps, giving up and violently twisting the tap closed, roughly drying his hands off so that he can get out of here before he goes nuts.
He trots down the hallways and over to the training room so that he can irritate Cross into ripping a portal open for him, but even though his choice of au makes Cross’s browbone quirk up, he doesn’t comment on it. Considering Killer did not give him the specifics of where exactly to drop him, he has to walk down a couple streets, but at least he appreciates the opportunity to think and get most of his thoughts in order before he sees the other.
He doesn’t usually bother knocking, but this time he does, a quick rap of his knuckles against the door.
“Come in!” Lust calls out from the inside.
He steps forward, but before he can slam himself face first into the door, he teleports into the hallway and follows the echo of the other’s voice and into the living room.
“Killer,” Lust smiles, as soft as a ray of sunshine, but it fades as Killer stands there in the doorway to the living room for several moments. “... are you alright?”
He doesn’t answer, making a beeline to him where he sits curled up on the sofa and practically throwing himself over him. There’s a carpet under his knees to cushion the impact, and he shoves his face into the soft ecto of the other’s stomach, squeezing him tight enough to wring out a grunt.
He inhales Lust’s signature scent, a dark sweetness that fills his senses, and it’s just what he needs right now. He just needs his head to shut up, to wash and scrub out the scent of blood and replace it with the other’s, until there’s nothing he can feel, taste, smell but him .
He can feel Lust’s hands softly stroke down the back of his skull, a rhythmic sensation which calms some of his inner turmoil into something more managable. until he doesn't feel like slaughtering his way through yet another underground.
Finally tilting his head up from where its been pressed into Lust's lower stomach, he's met with the sight of Lust looking down on him with a soft expression, hands cupping his face. He doesn't mind the determination staining his palms and shirt.
"... you okay?" Lust asks him. He must have been silently suffocating himself in his stomach for a while.
He doesn't bother answering- he pushes himself up and kisses him before he gets that worried crease in his browbone and starts asking him more questions, which Killer does not want to have to answer because he just wants to shut up and make out with him maybe and just be here and not think.
He inhales the smell of the other’s perfume and his magic.
Now this. This is nice. This is what he needs, he just needs to kiss him until they can't breathe and forget about the last couple days.
Killer feels himself becoming a little desperate, but Lust doesn’t stop him, letting him find comfort in the sensations of their tongues tangling, a hand cradling the back of Killer’s head to steady him. His breath shudders into their kiss, phalanges twisting into Lust’s clothes.
He twists his fingers into Lust's shirt so roughly that he can hear the threads of the fabric creak, and he's sure that his fingers are currently pressing a collection of bruises into his ecto, all along his other side. He tries to adjust his grip but then it's too gentle, and his hands flutter along the other's frame.
He pulls away, making Lust gasp, and a thin string of magic connects their mouths which snaps once he licks across his teeth. He grabs him, lifting him up and turning on his heel just to teleport to his bedroom. He drops Lust onto the bed and whips his pants off with such aggression it yanks him halfway across the bed. He yelps, but he's immediately muffled by Killer's mouth.
He leaves a messy array of colourful hickeys on his way down, and puts his mouth to use while he still has the patience to prep him. He’s rough, teeth nipping as he mouths against him, and he continues even after he can taste his climax on his tongue, bringing him to finish again, and again- only backing off when Lust pushes his face away and folds his legs together. He gives him a few moments, his own breathing heavy as he wipes his mandible clean.
Then it’s just grabbing, clutching, ecto pressing together, he can feel the sting of scratches down his back through the adrenaline, the shortness of breath.
Lust cries out under him and he moans with him, and it’s like trying to grab an eel with both hands as Lust’s hips buck and slip through his hands. He writhes under him with such desperation that Killer’s claws have to dig into his hips.
Lust gets him back at him for it twice as bad, shredding his back up, and after a particularly rough jostle where Killer impales him on his dick, he clenches up, sending both of them over the edge.
Killer exhales a strangled noise, collapsing onto Lust and squeezing a grunt out of him with his weight.
He can feel himself going soft inside of him but he just can’t bring himself to move, shoving his nose into the crook of his neck so that all he can smell is the concentrated scent of his magic running down his leylines.
He feels too hot to move an inch. He's tired. He's sore. He's kinda still upset from before. But he’s… content. With this. With a tiny man in his arms who’s happy to be with him, of all people. The thought makes him curl around him fully, tangling them together awkwardly, but comfortably.
“Mm… feel better now?” Lust mumbles into his neck. He's purring.
He doesn't know how long he just lays there in the dark with him, question left unanswered. Lust's most likely already asleep when he asks.
"Will you come back with me?" he asks, his voice quiet so that just in case Lust is already asleep, he doesn’t wake him up. But now he knows Lust isn’t asleep, because he can feel him thinking. This pause is almost as long as the last.
“I'll think about it.”
Killer tries not to sigh. He says that every time.
But. It's not a no.
Killer wraps himself tighter around him, as if the question would prompt him to dissolve in his arms and disappear, and makes himself a promise. He's going to bring him with him one day. He doesn’t care much when. What Killer wants, he gets. And right now he just wants him. Plain and simple.