Danse Macabre

A/N: Ok, let me explain this one. In Dirge of Cerberus, Nero has this one line where he says “Shall we dance?”

Of course, that was just an uber cliché way of him saying “I want to fight you damn it”, but still…

This entire fanfic spawned from that. That, and my own “incapacities”… Err.. um… Good day.

--

The flashing lights and pounding music usually served to relax him. Mix in some well needed alcohol and alone time and Weiss was usually in a state of bliss. Give him a nice dark corner not too far from the bar with a good view of the dance floor and he’d be set for the night.

Yet for some reason, tonight it was only serving to piss him off. The lights were giving him a headache, the music selection was terrible and for once he desired somebody else to be bored with.

None of his friends knew where he was at, for numerous reasons. First, this was Weiss’s alone time, key word in this sentence being alone. He wasn’t to be bothered in any shape or form. Second, none of his crazy array of “friends” would exactly do well in a club setting.

Rosso had a tendency to pick fights (and win them) wherever she went. Weiss avoided bringing her to public places for the health of everyone around that crazed she-devil. Azul? He didn’t fit through most doorways. Shelke?

Weiss actually chuckled a bit as he took a sip from his drink. He had tried that, once, but the doormen refused to believe that she was nineteen. In fact, they refused to believe she was older then twelve. Not that he was too bothered by it. Shelke had less emotions then a machine, and probably wouldn’t have been much fun.

Which brought him to reason number two of why he couldn’t bring Rosso or Azul with him. And it wasn’t that funny damn it. At least Shelke didn’t break off into a fit of giggles every time someone mentioned his… incapacity.

Weiss’s scowl deepened as he took a larger swallow from his beverage. Maybe he’d just sit here, get piss drunk, and… oh, hell, he didn’t know what. Anything other then sit here and be miserable by himself. Maybe he’d just go home. At least he could sit and wallow in his new found misery in peace. The music was really beginning to grate on his nerves…

Growling, he finished his drink, and stood up only to waver slightly and fall back down on his ass. Fuck, he hadn’t had that much to drink… or at least he didn’t think he had. Whatever. He didn’t care. Climbing to his feet, this time prepared for the slight shifting of the entire room, he shrugged on his jacket and began to moodily make his way towards the door.

However, he was stopped in his tracks by the touch of a slight hand, wrapping around his wrist and holding him in place…

--

He had been watching him for some time now. It was almost ritualistic the way he came, every Friday night, to sit in an out of the way place, have a few drinks, and just relax for a few hours, before getting up and going home.

For a few weeks he had hoped to catch him on the dance floor, the beautiful body flowing with the music, giving him the opportunity to move up against him, touch him, feel him, without the awkwardness of approaching him from a chair, but the man never seemed to move.

It had discouraged Nero, to the point where he had almost given up, but he had still come, every night, hoping to catch his desire somewhere other then that secluded spot. He couldn’t help it. The man was exceedingly attractive, with his mane of pure white hair and icy blue eyes, his muscle chest barely hidden beneath a plain white tee. Everything about this man radiated power and perfection and everything Nero craved.

Tonight had been no different. Nero had sacrificed his usual spot on the dance floor, instead opting to watch his current interest, hoping to find someway of enticing him out to dance with him. Only tonight he seemed to be in a foul mood, drinking more then usual, glaring at everything and anything, and now, leaving hours earlier then expected.

It had taken a lot of courage, but Nero figured this was a perfect opportunity to snag an acquaintance with him. For some reason, seeing this human display of emotion had shaken Nero’s image of perfection when it came to him. It had given him enough courage to walk up to him, to reach out, to touch.

He stopped as Nero’s hand wrapped around his wrist, his head inclining slightly to the side to see who had dare to interfere with his exit, his cold blue eyes boring into Nero’s own crimson depths.

“What?” He snapped, his jaw clenched with unresolved tension as he surveyed the one who had bothered him. Nero swallowed hard, realizing that if this man wanted to, he could probably lift him up and throw him across the room. Nero was lean at the best of times, and his snug clothing with all its straps and buckles only showed further his rather effeminate form. Biting his lip slightly, he took a shuddering breath before blurting out the request that had burned on his tongue since he first laid eyes on this shining figure…

“Dance with me?”

Weiss scowled. There it was. The dreaded “d” word. The one and only thing that made him look like an absolute and total fool. It may seem strange then, that he opted for clubs, but it was such an unlikely place that he knew Rosso and Azul would never seek him out here. It was bad enough that this… boy had stopped him, and didn’t take his snappish reply as a “go away” as it was clearly meant, but then he asked… it.

“No.” He replied, yanking his hand out of the small hand that held onto him, turning around and firmly intending to just go home.

--

“Please?” It sounded so sad and almost… desperate. Weiss sighed, finding himself stopping again. It must’ve been the alcohol, it had to be the alcohol… … or maybe it was the pretty red eyes that had looked at him with a strange mix of boldness and fear, as though the boy was sure of what he was doing, yet so very afraid of the outcome. Gritting his teeth, Weiss turned back around, deciding he might as well get a decent look at the kid.

Long black hair that tumbled down his back in an array of sexy spikes, his bangs falling into his eyes to partially shield the crimson depths. Pretty lips that were make-upped to be a dark shade of blue, skin as pale as his own, arms and legs concealed behind tight black clothing full of chains and buckles that already had Weiss thinking dirty thoughts.

He was pretty; there was no doubt about it. If Weiss had put enough thought to it, he would have claimed him as being beautiful, but he was far too irritated right now to realize that this cute young boy was just the type Weiss liked to take hard and fast.

“Why?” He responded, not meaning for it to come out as angry sounding as it did. Those lovely red orbs shone with determination, the same hand reaching out tentatively to grasp Weiss’s again.

“Because I want you to…” He replied, the soft voice not matching the look in his eyes. Weiss rolled his eyes, pulling his wrist out of the boy’s grasp again.

“I don’t dance.” He replied simply, preferring to avoid the details. Don’t was as close as a complete stranger was going to get to can’t…

“I’ve noticed.” There was a hint of smile in those eyes, making Weiss realize that while the other’s face remained smooth and rather indifferent, his voice soft with just faint traces of emotions, his pretty crimson eyes gave away what he was feeling. [*]

“You’ve noticed?” Weiss asked, quirking an eyebrow at the thought. He noticed? What was that supposed to mean?

“You come here every week, to the same club, sit in almost the same exact spot, and yet not once, do you get up, or do anything remotely close to dancing.” The young man replied, the amusement still shining in his eyes. Weiss scowled; glad the darkness and the flashing lights of the club probably hid the small blush.
“Yeah well, you should’ve known better then.” He finished, moving to turn around once again. He wasn’t in the mood to go into details, and would rather leave the boy thinking that he was just moody and anti-social, and hopefully he wouldn’t bother him anymore.

Nero sighed, realizing that this was going to be much harder then he had anticipated. There was something other then just irritableness that was making this man so distant, Nero knew as much. There was reluctance as well. Maybe even some embarrassment. But Nero wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

“Please.” He tried again, reaching out for the third time in the past few minutes to touch that taunt skin, watching the way the muscles bunched under his touch as though he were about to strike. He put more effort into this attempt, tugging on the appendage slightly trying to draw him out onto the dance floor. He was surprised with the body turned back around again, following him for a few steps, a strange look on his face.

“Look, kid…” The man began, but Nero interrupted him, figuring this would be a good time to properly introduce himself.

“Nero.” Nero interjected.

“Fine, Nero, whatever, I… I just don’t dance, okay?” Weiss said, feeling the familiar self-consciousness well up inside of him. Memories of the last attempt were almost drowned out by Rosso and Azul’s howling laughter. He had then proceeded to beat their asses, and vowed never to step on a dance floor again. It just wasn’t that funny damn it.

“I could show you how.” Nero said, clearly seeing through Weiss. Weiss cringed, wishing he had just kept his mouth shut and left when he had the chance.

“Trust me ki- Nero, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” Weiss muttered bitterly. He couldn’t help it. Give him a sword and an opponent and he’d be the fastest and most coordinated being on the planet. Give him a tempo and empty floor and he fell to pieces. It just wasn’t fair.

“I’d rather like to find out.” Nero replied, his lips curving into a slight smile as he continued to usher Weiss out onto the dance floor. Weiss sighed, allowing himself to be led, figuring Nero wasn’t going to stop trying, and better to just get the humiliation done and over with. At least the floor was crowded. This way, not too many people would be watching him.

“Okay…”

“Weiss” Weiss filled in for him, realizing that he hadn’t really introduced himself yet.

“Mhhmm… Weiss.” Nero tried out, liking the way it felt on his lips. “Ok Weiss, how shall we do this?” Nero said, stopping Weiss just short of the middle of the floor, hoping to avoid drawing too much attention. Easier said then done, as Nero noticed with a strange pang of jealousy that a few other patrons had eyed his hard work a little too much.

“Err… what?” Weiss replied, kind of wishing he could just dig himself a hole right now. He hated dancing. He was just glad that they weren’t here to witness it.

“Front to back, or front to front?” Nero explained, but only gaining a blank look from Weiss in reply. Nero actually giggled, moving up to wrap his arms around Weiss’s hips.

“Front to front it is.” He said, moving his body closer to his new partner. He felt Weiss stiffen as their bodies drew closer together, and he stopped, leaving an inch or two between them for comforts sake.

“Ok, now move…” Nero demanded. Weiss cringed, easier said then done. Move. Alright, move what? He legs, his feet, what the hell was he supposed to do with his arms?! Swallowing hard, he wrapped his own arms around Nero’s waist, noticing how Nero’s eyes had closed and his body was swaying slightly to the music, every so often his body moving to leave a ghost of a touch against Weiss.

It was then that Weiss realized that just how attractive Nero really was. How couldn’t he, with his body moving to rub against him so…

“You’re not moving.” Weiss blinked, realizing that he had stopped whatever weak attempt he had at moving to stare at Nero. He felt himself blushing again, blaming his easy embarrassment to the alcohol in his system.

“Here.” Nero said, turning himself so his back was to Weiss. “This’ll be easier.” He said, realizing that he was really going to have to guide Weiss through this process step by step. Weiss hesitated, and made a slight motion as though to pull away, but Nero reached behind him to grab a hold of those tight hips.

“You’re going to have to move closer then this…” Nero teased. Weiss swallowed hard, but complied, moving closer so Nero’s backside was pressed right up against his crotch. He resisted the urge to groan. Not good, not good at all…

“Like this?” Weiss heard himself whispering, his head ducking slightly so that his lips fluttered against Nero’s ears. It was Nero’s turn to swallow hard, realizing how quickly this could spin out of control. Not that he minded, really.

“Yes.” He answered, surprised at how panty his own voice was. He sounded as though he had just agreed to sex, and not to teach this beautiful, if not slightly awkward, man how to dance.

“Okay” Weiss said, feeling weird as his body both relaxed and tensed, his body moving to mold against Nero’s body, his hands sliding to rest on his hips, his chin just inches above the boys shoulder so not to miss any softly spoken instructions.

“Just follow my lead…” Nero said, his own eyes fluttering shut again as he lost himself in the music, and the touch of the strong, handsome, immaculate body behind. To him, dancing was beautiful. He loved the way he could just let go, let his body sway and move to the sound, and it was even better if he had such a sexy partner…

Weiss tried to follow, he honestly did, but Nero moved with such boneless grace that all he managed was a poor imitation, his own body refusing to cooperate, and it only grew worse as his self-consciousness grew.

“I’m sorry I can’t.” Weiss suddenly snapped, pulling himself away before he embarrassed himself anymore. As if his terrible dancing was enough, he found himself becoming slowly aroused by the feel of the sleight body against him. Better save whatever shred of dignity he had left.

It was the hand against his wrist that stopped him, and the way that said hand lifted up his arm to a pair of painted blue lips, and Weiss couldn’t help but let out a soft pant as the soft mouth kissed the inside of his wrist softly, a chaste movement just to entice him to stay. Weiss looked at Nero, and he had the sudden realization that this could be a little more then dancing if he just bothered to stay.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Nero said, his lips fluttering against the pale skin that he still held flush against his lips. He felt the slight shiver that ran through Weiss’s body, and he couldn’t help but delight in it. He knew, without a fraction of a doubt, that he wanted Weiss, wanted to teach him and learn from him and just everything.

He saw Weiss nod slowly, before taking up his position behind him once again, this time not hesitating to pull that body roughly against him, knowing that the feeling of desire was mutual between the two of them.

“Don’t think. Don’t try.” Nero quietly instructed, loving the way those strong hands played along his slender hips, wanting to dare them to go lower and just a little farther in… “Close your eyes, and just… follow me…” he continued, a small smile playing on his lips as an idea came to him.

“If it helps…” he whispered, grinding his hips backward just for the sharp intake of breath that elicited from Weiss. “Don’t think of it as dancing…” he finished, his smile turning quite coy at his words. He felt Weiss’s hands squeeze his hips a little tighter. Yes, he got the idea.

Weiss did as he was told, closing his eyes, once again relaxing his body against Nero’s, not thinking of the gentle sway of hips, the rocking of the body, the panting of the breaths as dancing…

Weiss groaned, pulling that body hard against him once again. There was no point in hiding his arousal now, and he just let go, letting his hips to be dragged alongside Nero’s, the fabric of their clothes catching adding friction and a light junction between their bodies, making it easier and much more desirable to keep his hips planted firmly against that small, firm, pert little ass. Weiss smirked, realizing he could learn to like dancing very easily if it was always like this.

“Yes…” Nero hissed, his head lolling back to rest on Weiss’s chest, nestled beneath his chin as he wasn’t quite tall enough to reach his shoulder, his arms moving to wrap around those that held him, intertwining the limbs as his hands reached back to grab on Weiss’s own backside, pushing the two bodies closer, if it was even possible.

Weiss wasn’t even thinking about dancing anymore. He didn’t care that he was in a public place surround by tens if not hundreds of people, that the delightful buzz of alcohol might be clouding his senses, or the flickering lights could be confusing his mind, all he cared about was grinding himself into Nero’s backside, wishing that the offending clothing wasn’t there, that it was flesh and not fabric that was creating the friction, that he could feel Nero’s sweat covered back pressed against his chest.

They continued to dance, their breathing turning into pants, their hips rubbing together among other parts, their pace and movements set by the tempo of the music, the flashing of the lights, the sway of the people around him. Weiss didn’t care. He didn’t care that he was doing what he thought himself impossible of, he didn’t care that he was actually, truly, dancing, because in his mind, he really wasn’t…

He couldn’t keep this up much longer. He knew sooner or later they would have to either stop or go even further. He realized belatedly that the song had changed, opting for something faster and heavier, that the bodies of faceless people were pressing in closer around him, that he and Nero were all but fucking in the middle of the dance floor.

Weiss groaned, his hands moving to slid long those slim hips, to trace over the ridge of those hips concealed beneath skin tight fabric, the anticipating tremble from Nero as he moved closer, feeling those hands that gripped his own ass tighten. He found himself thinking for the countless time this night that he just didn’t care…

Nero let out a deep moan and his bucked forward as Weiss finally reached his destination, both his hands rubbing and palming against the hard ridge in Nero’s pants, his own hips bucking forward to show Nero he wasn’t the only one in this state, but he was more than happy to assist Nero in his problem.

He wanted more. He loved the feeling of the hard, hot flesh beneath his fingers, but he knew it would be oh so much better if it weren’t for those damn pants. Yet he couldn’t find the willpower to stop, or try and go around, and just continued to touch, and grasp and grope and grind, his one hand staying firmly on Nero’s erection, the other moving back up to grasp those lean hips, pulling back to keep their bodies flush despite Nero’s bucking, needing his own relief in their sexually explicit dance.

“Oh… oh fuck me…” Nero gasped, his mindset following Weiss’s of not caring, just wishing that the clothing wasn’t there, and if meant fucking in the middle of floor then it meant fucking in the middle of the floor. Never, in a hundred years, in the million scenarios that had played through in his head when he thought of Weiss alone in the club, lead to something as terribly erotic as this touch. He heard, he felt the possessive growl from Weiss, and it only made him cry out again. He wanted to be taken, he wanted to be pressed beneath that beautiful body, he wanted to cry and to scream in ecstasy as those hands pumped him to completion. He felt Weiss’s own arousal pressed against his backside, and he wanted that too, he wanted to be dominated and filled and completed…

Weiss’s lips were on his neck, he hadn’t realized it until the sharp catch of Weiss’s teeth against his skin brought him out of his reprieve, feeling the canines sink into his skin, not minding the pain and relishing in the pleasure as Weiss’s tongue lashed against the angry mark, not really soothing as he was purging, claiming that spot and Nero as his, and his alone.

“Weeeeiiiisss….” Nero groaned, wondering how Weiss had managed to keep so much control, though he had bothered to turn around and look at Weiss’s eyes, he would see anything but control there. Instead, he would see lust and raw passion clouding those normally sharp pristine eyes.

“Do you want me little one?” Weiss managed to choke out in a husky whisper, glad his voice didn’t shake or crack, but came out a sultry purr that melted into the pale shell of Nero’s ears. Nero wanted, tried desperately to reply, but he couldn’t, only managing a choking sob as those hands continued to play against his concealed length.

“Do you want me to take you, hard and fast, right here? Or how about pressed against a dark wall, your legs wrapped around my waist as I pound into that pretty little ass of yours…” Weiss continued, not knowing nor caring where any of this was coming from. It felt good to think it, it felt even better to say it, watching the way Nero thrashed and groaned against him.

“I will do it Nero. I don’t care who sees us, or who cares, or fuck, even if you care. I will take you, I will make you mine, hard and fast and beautifully rough…” Weiss hissed, forgoing all pretense as he dragged Nero off the dance floor, selecting a darker and more secluded spot to make his beautiful little dancer his. And to think, he almost went home to sit in his own angst alone on his couch.

He wasn’t quite sure where they were, only that it was slightly shielded from the bodies that were still moving obliviously on the dance floor not more then ten feet away. The music was still pounding in his ears, the lights were dancing colors against their skins, and it was fast, and it was fierce, and it was glorious.

Weiss didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Nero’s body and practically slammed him up against the wall, moving in between the legs that willingly spread for him, Weiss letting out a soft hiss and Nero outright moaning as their erections rubbed together through their pants.

“Suck.” Weiss ordered, moving to place some his fingers against those pouting lips, noticing just how sexy Nero looked in the throws of passion. His eyelids fluttering over glowing eyes, his checks flushed and glistening with sweat, his bottom lip swollen and Weiss noticing the slight teeth indents in them. He didn’t have time to dwell on the attempt for control as Nero took a single digit into his mouth, sucking on it as though it was his life source, giving Weiss a better idea of what that slick muscle could do. He knew that when the time came he would put that mouth to much better use.

Nero’s own hands were not still however, as they reached to undo the black sash that served as a makeshift belt. Not that he was complaining, the knot came undone much easier then a buckle would’ve, and he let the black fabric drop as he took another digit into his mouth, his lips grinning around the fingers as Weiss let out a low moan from the fingers that were dancing so close to his point of need.

He didn’t spend anytime teasing, no matter how much he wanted to. He was too hot, too desperate, and in the back of his mind he was already hoping for other nights and other play. But right now, the only thing the two of them sought was release. Nero’s nimble hands deftly unzipped Weiss’s pants, shoving the pants over his straining member and past though strong, gyrating hips, lowering the article of clothing just far enough to give him access.

Weiss was obviously very pleased with this action, letting out a throaty purr as he nuzzled the soft skin of Nero’s neck, his free hand trying unsuccessfully to rid Nero of his own more complicated clothing.

Nero chuckled around the fingers he was still suckling, listening as Weiss’s noise of contentment turned abruptly to a stream of vicious curse words as he fumbled with the straps that held Nero’s pants up. Giving one last like to the thoroughly moistened digits, he pushed Weiss back slightly, ignoring the irritated growl his soon to be lover let out.

“Here, let me help…” Nero whispered, his hands moving over the practiced motions of removing his pants, though adding a few extra caresses for the pleasure and the show he was giving Weiss.

“Hurry it up little one, or I fuck you pants or not…” Weiss growled, torn between watching Nero tease himself as he stripped and the pounding in his now bared loins. There was something inherently dangerous and erotic about this. The constant noise and flash of illumination of the club a constant reminder that they weren’t alone, that any moment now, someone would see them, someone could catch them.

Weiss shivered, realizing that even now somebody could be watching them, not caring for their decency or the modesty they obviously didn’t possess, relishing in the sight as much as Weiss was doing now. He never pinned himself as an exhibitionist, but he’d have to be sterile if he found this not arousing.

At last, Nero unfastened the last strap to his pants, and even all that work was just enough to slip it past his own hips and erection, straps still trying the fabric to his calves and lower thighs.

“Please Weiss…” Nero whispered, this light lull doing nothing to still his desire. He wanted his man, and he wanted him now, and was infinitely glad that Weiss wasted no time in moving his previously dampened fingers behind Nero, playing along the newly revealed cleft of his ass, playing along the crevice before dipping inside to brush a finger against the puckered entrance.

“Do you want it hard Nero? Fast and rough and full of fire, burning and tearing and filling you completely?” Weiss purred, still managing to find some control to spur Nero on, his own arousal rubbing up against Nero’s, sending sadistic shivers of pleasure down his spine as he denied both of the pleasure.

“Gods, yeesssss…” Nero whined, bucking down on those fingers, not caring if it was hard or if it was going to hurt, just wanting it, needing it now. Weiss spared no time hesitating now. Deftly, surely, he slammed two fingers inside the tight hole, relishing in the pleasure pained cry that Nero let out, willing himself to stay still for a few moments, letting Nero adjust to the painful intrusion.

Nero swore his vision went white, only to having everything come back into sharp focus as Weiss abused him with his fingers, and Nero knew that he loved.

“Moooore…” he keened, trying to push those two digits deeper and farther, wanting to be stretched and pleasured as quickly as possible so that he could be filled with that thick length he saw before him. Speaking of which…

Nero’s hands snapped forward, one wrapping around the bottom of Weiss’s manhood as the other began to slowly pump, brushing through the precum that had gathered on the crown to combine with his sweaty palms as makeshift lubricant. He began to stroke Weiss slowly, one hand holding the length firm as the other moved up and down, from the top of his other hand all the way up to the very tip of Weiss’s cock, slowly, painstakingly, meant to arouse and fulfill, feeling the warmth pulse and twitch beneath his delicate hands, feeling the muscles in Weiss’s body tense at the new sensation.

“You won’t break me…” Nero hissed, adding in a rough stroke of his hands to emphasize the point. There it was, that deep growl, Weiss’s dominating growl as he pulled his fingers out to only plunge back in, stretching the hole for something more, his fingers moving rapidly as they scissored and thrust, pushing deeper and deeper, playing against those tight smooth walls for something that would make Nero scream…

It didn’t take long, as bent on his purpose as he was. Weiss felt his fingers brush against the sensitive gland, and the sharp cry and arched back was all the knowledge he needed. He continued a few more shoves of his fingers for good measure, before removing them, a dark smile on his otherwise pristine face.

His hands, now free, moved to Nero’s waist, holding him still as he pulled out, ignoring Nero’s mewls as he was forced to let go of his length, Weiss’s muscled body turning the light body around with ease, presenting Weiss with his first look of Nero’s pert ass, his head moving forward to lick a trail up Nero’s neck to show his appreciation.

Nero keened again, not caring for the soft ministrations, his own legs growing weak as he struggled to find some sort of release. Thier dance and those fingers had brought him so close to the edge he felt as though he was truly teetering, about to fall into a dark abyss that never ended. Sensing his desperation, Weiss pushed Nero forward, letting him brace his arms against he wall, one of Weiss’s hands holding his hips steady, the other grabbing his length to position it in front of the stretched entrance.

There were no words, no last minute questions or reassurances, just haggard breathing Weiss pressed the tip of cock against Nero’s ass, the needy groan and the buck of Nero’s hips a sign that he truly wanted this. There was no further hesitation, and Weiss moved forward, trying to be careful, knowing that with almost no lubrication how much it could hurt to be taken almost dry.

If Nero had been slightly coherent, he would’ve appreciated the gesture, but by now his body was too overcome with need to truly care. He doubt he would’ve felt the pain if these was more, and was resorting to desperate cries to get Weiss to move faster, to take him harder.

“Please… oh….” Nero hiccupped, not able to complete a sentence or a thought, his hips bucking against the strong hands that held him, but Weiss was unrelenting. He carefully seated himself fully in that tight heat, his breath hot and panting against the back of Nero’s neck, fluttering the hair that sought to hid it from him. Weiss moved a hand up to carefully comb his fingers through the thick black locks, loving how silky and smooth they felt, despite their choppy appearance. He leaned forward to nuzzle into the dark tresses, inhaling the scent of Nero’s shampoo and skin, topped off with the faint scent of their arousal.

They stayed like that, unmoving, nestled together, until Weiss felt Nero’s body relax and become accustomed. He would tease with his lovers, play with them, bite and smack and claw at them if they desired, but never, ever would he bring himself to hurt them in such a way. It seemed crude and vulgar to him, beyond dirty play or pleasing pain. And he made sure that wasn’t going to tear Nero’s sensitive and taunt skin before he continued.

And he pulled out, painstakingly slow, and again, moved slowly in as though testing the waters. Nero swore, not the pretty little pants he had done either, but any angry noise, the sound of it so harsh and uncouth to Weiss that it almost caused him to stop.

“Gods… fuck me!” Nero demanded, his own frustration building to a point where he would turn around and fuck Weiss if he didn’t get started. Weiss blinked, and then chuckled deep in this throat, before thrusting hard the rest of the way in.

Nero let out a high pitched keen, back arching to a seemingly impossible degree, and Weiss had to let out a groan at the sight. There was no stopping him now. He pulled back only far enough to give him enough leverage to push back into, setting a blinding pace that would surely finish both of them off quickly. He bucked wildly, pushing into the tight heat and pulling out, only to thrust back in with even more force, it taking only a few rotations before he pushed hard enough and at just the right angle to hit Nero’s prostate, with sent Nero’s body into near convulsions.

Nero liked it rough, he liked it hard and fast and Weiss was fulfilling his needs beautifully. He could the those strong legs snapping behind him, Weiss’s chest pressed against his back as he tried to go deeper then Nero though was possible. He braced himself against the wall with one hand, the other reaching down to touch his own neglected tough. Weiss groaned, looking over Nero’s shoulder as he went to go touch himself.

“Oh, beautiful one…” was his hushed response, causing Nero to toss his head to the side, trying to give a better view. He grasped his own length harshly, pumping in time to Weiss’s frantic thrust, trying too hard to find completion. All was lost but the feel of that length sliding in and out of him, and the feel of his own hand around his cock.

It was a fire that was building, curling up through his loins only to burn throughout his entire body, making Nero yearn for relief and release, not caring at the loud and needy cries that were tearing themselves from his throat, the sound of them already growing hoarse due to their loud repetition. He heard Weiss’s own needy pants in his ear, dark deep groans and rumbles in his chest, sending vibrations that seemed to travel throughout Nero’s body. He vaguely remembered words, soft words whispered into his ear, but it might have been his own imagination playing to his fantasies…

“Come for me; let me feel your heat, let me feel your release…”

Nero groaned, his body bucking wildly, feeling his climax on the horizon, and he could swear it would be one more thrust, one more pump and he would be there…

“That’s it my little one, my beautiful one, my Nero…”

It was beautiful. It was their own little dance of death that was killing both of them slowly, their blood pounding in their hearts and midsections, each waiting for the other to come first just so they would have the pleasure of knowing that it was their work, that it was them that was causing such pleasure.

It was Nero who broke first, his mouth opening in a silent scream, his head falling back as his release sputtered over his hands, his muscles shuddering as he reached one of the fiercest orgasms in his life. He continued to touch himself, using his own release to moisten his length, not caring at all as he felt Weiss continue to pump into him.

And then it was Weiss, who’s teeth dug into Nero’s shoulder through his shirt, needing something to stifle his desperate cry as he came, filling Nero with his hot seed, his own vision leaving him for a dizzying array of colors and roaring noise, unable to think or see straight for several moments, and even when he regained his senses he didn’t move.

He hadn’t realized it, but Nero had slumped forward, and his hands that had been holding his hips had moved to catch him, and Nero was now cuddled against his chest, his breathing coming in broken sobs as he tried to compose himself, his legs too weak to hold him up.

He was trembling, and Weiss felt the sudden urge to sooth him, to nestle him harder against his chest, to care and comfort him. To think, he had almost left, had almost walked out on this moment…

“Nero…” Weiss whispered, wanting to take him home with him, to bathe with him in a warm shower and to spoon with him in a soft bed. Weiss shook his head. Could he… would he?

“Come on little one…” Weiss whispered, carefully removing himself from the spent body, knowing that Nero would most likely collapse without his support.

“Let’s go home.”
--

[*] Due to Nero's mask in game, you see most of his emotions through his eyes. I like that, so neh, I'm keeping it.

A/N: :3 Kind of a fluffy ending but that’s the way I like it damn it. I might right a sequel, reviews willing…