onebehind | making war just for fun (for first

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making war just for fun (for first_rule)

The good news was, at some point before the end of the week, before hurting Jack, before most of the truly terrible thing he'd done, Dylan had realized he needed help. The bad news was this realization had hit during one of the lows, and he'd decided what he needed wasn't to be fixed, to regain his (mostly) moral high ground, but to sink entirely and stop having moments of conflict and hesitation. He also wanted to be able to keep this power, once the week was out, because really, what fun would the ultimate loss of what little light remained in him be if he was left largely impotent again, at the end of it all, half his magic still missing? What point would there be to finally wanting to throw his weight around here, without concern for who he hurt in the process, if he had no weight to actually throw?

And so he'd gone to one of the darker Agents. Attar, Loki -- take your pick, really. He'd made a deal for a couple of favors at a later date, none of which he had any intention of ever actually fulfilling, and after he'd walked away, he'd spent the rest of the week dealing with the final death throes of his morality, desperate flickers of panic and conscious, before it curled up and died entirely. Now, there was nothing holding him back, he had power overflowing at his fingertips, and all was well. Thankfully, he'd also leveled out to a certain degree, but only a little. He wasn't so hellbent on murdering Jack, now -- now, it seemed more sensible to try and turn him and the other Horsemen, first -- but destroying Teleios? Oh, that was certainly on the agenda.

Maybe he'd find Samuel and Bailey and, after making them suffer for the hurt they'd inflicted on him (maybe he'd force them to hurt themselves as he'd hinted at Daniel might be in store for Jack, his voice still and now forever a thing of power), find whatever little doom they planned to use on the city and make it his own. Maybe he'd just see what trouble he could get up to on his own or with the Horsemen. Maybe -- well, there were so many possibilities, really, and he had so many ideas.

Right now, though? First, he was going to have a drink. A toast to himself and to something actually going right in this hellhole for once.

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Dylan, perhaps surprisingly, didn't react all that badly to Daniel's backtalk this time -- instead, he just snorted, dimly amused. "Not sure how he would've felt if you'd offered."

He paused, shrugging, and as Daniel continued, he added, "You'll get used to it," as if he planned on making this a thing, forcing him to be something else so he could fuck him regularly. He probably did. Between his reactions as he'd changed, his want to watch, since he had missed the better part of the show the first time, Daniel's jeans still in the way, how he'd felt around him, hot and tight and perfect, and -- well, yeah. Had he mentioned how good that had been? There'd definitely be a repeat performance the next time he and Daniel went at it.

The thought was shelved for the time being as Daniel unzipped him, however -- there were more important things to worry about, right now. Like the fact that the idea Daniel was about to touch him and the sight of him on his knees was enough to make him hard in earnest. Even if Daniel was wrong, was terrible at this, well, it was kind of hard to fuck up a blowjob. So far, so good, though, he decided distantly, hips jerking into Daniel's hand as he curled around him. Something not all that far removed from a whimper followed when his tongue touched to sensitive skin.

He reached out, fingers fisting in Daniel's hair, a breathy, "God," slipping out of him.

He paused, smirking because it was a horrible thing to say in that moment but he couldn't help himself. "He'd probably be afraid I'd bite," he admitted, even as he ran his tongue over Dylan again.

What was leftover from Dylan fucking him was different than other girls he'd tasted, and he wasn't sure if that was him, or Dylan's own taste. It made him think about doing this another time, before they fucked, when all he would taste was the man standing over him, fisting his hair.

Which was enough encouragement to make him go back to what he was doing. Of course, he wasn't giving in easily, knowing he had something to prove. It was Danny's second downfall to his desire to be needed, and that was never to be shown up.

His hand twisted at the base, not stroking up and down on his shaft, but teasing at the root, even as the tips of his fingers brushed just along the top edge of his sac. Licking and nuzzling, all tongue and lips as he brushed the head, ran his barely open mouth along the shaft before tracing the thick vein from head to root with his tongue.

Not that he didn't dip lower, nuzzling at the weight of Dylan's sac, moaning as he lapped at the skin there. In truth he liked the scent, musky and sweet at the same time, making Daniel moan as he canted his head once more to look up at Dylan, liking the way it made his hair pull against the other man's grasp.

"You bite me, I'll -- "

Probably destroy him horribly. Make him a woman, permanently. Make him some sort of literal monster, all spines and wings and mindlessness. Something along those lines. He never got as much out, however, the statement cutting off into a moan as Daniel went back to work. Christ, just -- fuck.

Shaking his head faintly, the gesture almost reflexive, his fingers scrabbled in and out of Daniel's hair, needy and a little rough. He shifted a little, not quite bucking against him but clearly wanting to, straining against it, and let out a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. If he didn't look at Daniel when he looked up at him, well, it probably had something to do with the fact that his eyes were closed, fluttering.

"Daniel," he managed to choke out, not much more than a growl.

The thing was, he wouldn't bite him. He had no desire to ruin things, to hurt Dylan. It was why the shooting had bothered him so much. Daniel might like destroying people with words, but as the cards had told, he was a lover not a fighter. Or so he liked to believe, even if he had constantly ruined love in his life.

Now though he was worried about lust, about pleasure and pleasing another. Later he'd show bites that felt good, peppery soft bites along his thighs, the curve of a hip. That was later though. Now was focusing as his gaze dropped, pausing to feel pleased with himself to get that sound from Dylan.

Then his lips parted, sliding them over the head of Dylan's cock. Swirling his tongue around the tip as he sank down until his lips slipped beneath the ridge. Pausing then to suckle gently, hand moving in a gently, barely moving stroking motion as he let himself slid down further, slowly, tongue along silken flesh, wetting and tasting all at the same time.

"Fuck," Dylan hissed, fingers digging into Daniel's scalp for a moment before releasing. It couldn't help it. Nor could he help the way his hips jerked shallowly and despite his best efforts as Daniel took him into his mouth. Okay, so, maybe he was somehow good at this. Better, likely, than Dylan himself would be at it, magic tongue or no.

"Daniel -- Jesus."

Anything else was lost to a rather undignified whimper. Well, at least he wasn't begging. Yet.

The desire to please, that same drive that had led to hours on hours of working and practicing translated to more than just cards and magic. When Daniel put his mind to something, he could go after it with a singleminded determination that led to many downsides, but the upside was things like this.

Like knowing it wasn't just mouth and tongue but hands as well. Which was why his free hand slid up along Dylan's thigh, curving around it so his fingers brushed the curve of the other man's ass and then to brush beneath his balls, rubbing against that tender spot there.

Even as he shifted up higher on his knees. Pausing, nearly half way down, and then pulling back. Slowly, taking his time, almost slipping holy off Dylan. And then he was sucking hard, head bobbing up and down, not taking more than an inch or two, but fast and wet, making obscene sounds as he suckled hard as he worked over the head.

"Don't," he started, as began to pull off of him. Never mind the fact that his fingers were still at his balls, never mind how good that felt, he wanted Daniel's mouth on him. So much so that he tried to follow as he pulled away, a choked sound catching in his throat as his hips stuttered after him, trembling as much as the rest of him with need.

It was almost as cruel as his own winding up of Daniel, before he'd fucked him, right after his dick had caved in on itself. It was more so because he wasn't the one doing the teasing. Fuck. If Daniel was just fucking with him, he'd find some way of getting back at him equally or more horrible than what he might have done to him if he'd tried biting him. He'd --

Apparently have his train of thought shattered as Daniel sunk back down on him, all perfect warmth and wet and suction. His hips jerked more intensely this time, cock starting in time, and clenched his eyes shut again where he'd started to open them as Daniel had pulled away. The way this was going, he wouldn't last long. It'd been awhile since he'd had someone suck him off with, as Daniel would put it, with such single-minded determination, and even in a place like Vegas. And really, he didn't, his balls starting to hitch up sooner rather than later, tension hooking low in his stomach.

"Daniel, I'm gonna -- fuck." Normally, he wouldn't have warned him, wouldn't have cared. If he was going to suck his cock, he could deal with a mouthful of come to go with it. It was a little hard to be a dick when you were coming apart, though, and as much as he might have wanted to.

It hadn't even occurred to him to try and go for a finger to the ass or something. Not even close. He just knew he loved pressure to that spot, especially when he came, and besides. It let him feel when it was coming. Swallowing was one thing. Gagging and choking and looking like a damned idiot was something else entirely.

Damn though, if he was going to get screwed like that, he was willing to take a load. Even if it made him wonder, for a minute, what had happened when Dylan came before and then Danny changed... and this was not the time for those thoughts.

Not when he could feel the tension in Dylan's body, the way he was tensing, and then those words. Whatever the reason for giving them, he appreciated it. In truth he preferred swallowing than being painted with it. One was his choice, and the other always made him think of someone marking their territory.

So he sucked and bobbed, dropping down hard so the head hit the back of his throat, making him gag and then moving back to suck hard on the head, jerking the entire length, as if trying to get Dylan to come in his mouth.

Dylan was more than happy to oblige.

Bucking against him once, twice, both times viciously, unable to help himself, he spilled into his mouth as easily as he had his cunt. His fingers tightened in Daniel's hair again as he broke, a long, low groan slipping out of him, words trying to find their way onto it and failing, making the sound an unintelligible mess.

Maybe later, he'd worry about that, about the weakness that might have shown. Right now, he didn't care. He was more interested in finding something to sag back against, his legs jell-o in the wake of all that. Leaning into Daniel a little would have to do since the wall wasn't exactly handy anymore, not since he'd moved away from him right before he'd given him his dick back.

Choking as Dylan worked against his mouth, and hating that it felt so good to have him pushing deep into his mouth. Some part of him wanted that, wanted more from him like that. He suspected it would happen again, another time, and maybe then he'd see how much Dylan might take instead of Daniel giving to him.

Yet that was another time as he gagged, swallowing hard and fast. Some leaked from the corner of his mouth, and yet he didn't care. He wasn't even thinking about anything but the taste, the way it felt to do this again after so many years. To Daniel this was fresh and clean. No past emotional connection. No feelings that he'd had before. He felt wanted, talented, and the way that Dylan shifted, his weight against Daniel, that felt amazing because he knew he had done well.

Panting as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before caressing Dylan's thighs.

"Guess I did okay then," he murmured, voice a bit rough from the action and feeling the slight swell to his lips from what he had done. Leave it to Daniel to not be able to stop himself from making a smart ass comment.

Smart assed or no, Dylan couldn't help but allow him, "You weren't kidding about owing you after that. Just -- Christ."

That was all he could really manage. That and reaching down to brush his fingers over Daniel's talented mouth, the gesture part oddly tender (good boy), part a distant interest in that swell of his lips all his own. He'd find more words in a minute, do something about the fact that, as far as he could remember, Daniel was still hard and hadn't touched himself throughout that, because yes, he deserved that now, but it would take him a minute or two as before.

Those minutes did, however, pass, and then he was pulling away slowly, still not certain he could trust his legs and gesturing for Daniel to follow. "Speaking of. Stand up, c'mmere."

His world may have gone upside down and sideways, but Daniel was still himself. It meant smart assed commented were going to be the norm, and snark was part of who he was. Of course, he also would continue to try and do things like that to try and endear himself Dylan, if only to keep the attention. But after this, at least the second half of the madness, it was for other reasons as well. Dylan was being damn sexy, and Daniel liked it.

Pursing his lips slightly at that touch, liking the way that felt as well, accentuating the way his lips felt from what he'd done. Sighing, sitting back on his heels and looking damn smug and happy, and his hard cock showing against his body, the head glistening with precome. And not his first thought in that moment.

Though he pushed to his feet, moving easily as he swayed, reaching for Dylan as he did. "Mmmm, I'm here. Now what?"

Dylan wrapped an arm around him and leaned to put his mouth near his ear again. Daniel seemed to like that, when he leaned in, growled orders at him, magic behind the words or no, and well. He couldn't say he didn't take pleasure in it, either. It made whatever he actually said, innocent or otherwise, sound like a threat.

"Now, I'm gonna take care of this," he started, practically purring as he slid his other hand between them, trailed his fingers along the underside of Daniel's cock. Clearly, he needed his attention drawn back to it. He needed to be literally aching for him again and well aware of it.

"It won't be as good as that -- " Daniel's little act with his mouth. " -- but this is more about relief than me actually trying to make anything up to you. That'll come later." After Daniel had had a chance to rest. When he could make him ask for it again, when he was straining against his jeans or so wet he could barely think (oh, yes, there would be more of that). That would come when he could make it seem like an act of mercy after a long, slow wind up.

For now, he just moved his hand, fingers tracing over his balls and back again, now. He kept teasing for a moment after than, then slowly, firmly wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock. "Right now ... "

Right now and all that said, he leaned to kiss him, to taste himself on Daniel as his fingers started working over him in earnest, long, slow strokes that ended with a light twist of his thumb over his head before they began again. Right now, it was just getting him to come again.

Oh that was good, and he liked it. Liked the timbre of Dylan's voice, the soft rumble and heat against his skin at the exhalation of breath. It made him want to press closer, to grind himself against the other man. Made him want to offer himself up, to offer himself up in anyway. He didn't even think it had to do with the magic he had seen before but with Dylan's himself. He was a skilled and powerful person and that he found sexy as hell.

"Mmmm, yes," he groaned, shivering and bucking his hips to try and grind himself more to him, to get more contact from that touch. "Trust me, you're good. God it's been good." All of it after clothes started coming out and they were kissing hard and fast. That was good, and he wanted more. It was enough to burn away the rest of the day, only leaving things he wanted.

"Come on. Dylan. Shit. You know I need it," he groaned, writhing, hips bucking in a stuttering motions as if afraid to push too hard, to try and do too much and get rejected.

Arching into the kiss though, moaning loudly against Dylan's mouth. Tongue wild, one moan leading to another, murmuring as he barely moved for a breath. "You could use that mouth for more," he said, nipping at Dylan's lower lip. "Could have more... My neck," he groaned, knowing that he was close as it was, and wanting Dylan to know he was willing, eager, wanted more. He wanted to have this more.

"I could, yeah," he breathed, still steadily stroking Daniel's cock. He stole another kiss from him, brief but lazy, no where near as insistent as Daniel, right now. When he pulled away and as asked, he moved his mouth down the line of his jaw to his throat, stubble and teeth dragging lightly over skin as he went, peppering him with kisses.

When he reached the spot he wanted and as before, he buried his face in Daniel's throat, breathing him in with a hum of pleasure. A flicker of tongue followed and then he was biting down, mouth fitting into almost the same spot as it had the first time he'd fed from him. And if that wasn't enough? At the same time he sped up the pace of his fingers, faster now but not necessarily harder, jerking him off with all the dexterity Daniel knew he possessed.

If he wasn't otherwise occupied, he'd tell him he wanted to feel him come again. He figured his mouth and fingers would have to get his point across for him. No way he was pulling away from his throat now.

He could. He knew that might mean he wouldn't. But those kisses were good and Danny shifted, hips rolling constantly now to move in time with Dylan's touch. Oh yeah, he could get used to this. Those hands were too good, and so soft despite the hard work he knew they had done.

"God. God, you feel... Oh Fuck." Teeth. Fangs in his skin. Whimpering as his hands clawed at Dylan's shoulders, his chest, almost wanting to leave sharp lines and marks on the man's skin. As much as Dylan had changed him, Daniel had the desire to try and do the same to him.

Yet his touch became strong fingers clutching at the other man's shoulders, desperately trying to hold himself up as his balls tightened, his skin feeling positively electric, on fire, and then he was over the edge. Crying out Dylan's name, practically a roar as he came. Hard. Seeing stars as his cock jerked in Dylan's hand.

Dylan moaned into his throat as he came, at the call of his name, pleased by all of it. A few more strokes followed, an instant more of the pull of blood as he buried his fangs back in Daniel's neck, and both cruelly, as he knew Daniel would be wonderfully oversensitive to it all in the wake of his orgasm, and then he was pulling his hand and mouth away. He raked his tongue over his teeth, shivering faintly at the lingering taste of him and the aftermath of the taste of his pleasure, and leaned in to kiss him again. He figured Daniel wouldn't mind the taste of his own blood. He hadn't before.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against Daniel's, watching as he came down. When he felt he had, he started, "One more thing before we should both go get cleaned up ... "

Pleasure that was off the scales quickly turned to that line where pleasure was pain and it was still good and you wanted it to stop all at the same time. He writhed, shivering and twisting though he didn't pull away. Not until Dylan broke fully away.

Gasping and shuddering, still holding tight to Dylan as the other man kissed him. Tongue rolling around his mouth, tasting the blood, imagining he could still taste himself and Dylan's come all at the same time.

Then they were apart and suddenly kind of self conscious and folding his arms over his chest. He shifted from one foot to the other, glancing away and then back to Dylan. He wasn't sure what to think of those words. "Okay? What thing?"

Dylan let him go when he folded his arms over his chest. As a parting gift, he swiped a finger over the line he had cut into his chest earlier, bitten into earlier, before he'd twisted him into a woman, and backing his words with power, he offered simply, "You should probably heal like I do."

It would sort of put a damper on future fun if Daniel passed out or died of blood loss somewhere throughout the course of the rest of his day.

Whatever it was that Daniel had been expecting, whatever dismissal he feared, none of it prepared him for what was actually about to happen. The touch made him sigh, eyes nearly closing. Yet then he felt the shift within, body healing the wound at his neck, the one on his chest, even that swelling to his lips.

His eyes opened, wide, staring at Dylan, stunned. "You... Thank you," he managed, not sure what else to say. He wasn't sure what he had expected to happen, but that was Dylan as much as all he had become, and even if it was just so that Daniel could continue to be his meal ticket, as it were, he didn't care. He liked the idea that whatever happened, he'd be okay.

"How long... I mean, is that just for now or will it last and keep healing me?"

Dylan grunted in lieu of a proper you're welcome, looking up at him briefly as he tucked his cock back into his pants again. He was working at the zipper of his fly when Daniel continued and he paused, glancing over at him again, raking his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully as he considered.

"For now, it's permanent," he decided, another quick push of magic included in those last two words. It wouldn't fix whatever Dylan did to him, wouldn't give him his dick back if he forced that tight, perfect porn star pussy on him again, since that wouldn't register as damage, wouldn't register as wrong and in need of repair, but anything else? He'd be safe from anything else up to and including death, able to heal through it, and that was good on any number of levels.

Now, he could continue to feed on Daniel for however long he kept the vampire shift. Now, he'd be protected from whatever shit this place tried to pull. Now, he couldn't take the easy way out, if he decided this was all too much. He was his, forever -- or at least until he got bored -- unbreakable and unaging.

Daniel considered pulling the remnants of his shirt about him and then decided, screw it. Unfolding his arms, working hard to pull himself together and not trying to hide it. Chin lifting, arms loose at his side as he stood straighter.

His mind was exhausted, even if he had such healing, and he felt like he was torn between wanting to scream, wanting to curl up, and that need that had him wanting to move in close once more, push himself against Dylan and nonverbal beg for more attention. He somehow managed to hold his ground, staring at the other man.

"Okay then," he said, putting his hand to the side of his neck. "Good to know." And it was kind of good to know given the things that had already happened in this place, even without the things that had happened that day in this room.

"So..." Yep, that was welcome spoken and said a lot. Actually it probably said more than he wanted to say. "Okay, what happens now? Do we just pretend this didn't happen?" And by that, it was obvious, he was asking if that was what Dylan wanted. "I mean, I'd hate to come up and beg to open your fly and have you laugh in my face. Not exactly something I'm into."

His voice held, and he was proud of that. He had said beg, but he didn't feel he was doing so. Yet.

"Oh, I wasn't planning on letting you go that easy," Dylan answered, glancing up at him again from where he'd moved on to re-buttoning his shirt. A wicked smile followed, making that statement as much threat as it was promise, and then he was returning his attentions to fixing his state of undress. "But I figure we can give it a break before we move on to round three. We both need a shower, I've got a couple of things I need to do, and I really don't wanna break you on the first day."

Never mind the fact that he was very, very interested in seeing how Daniel reacted, once he'd left the room and the weight of all this came crashing down on him. He been forced to shoot him, altered bodily and found himself wanting it, wanting more, seen a taste of how much of a psychopath Dylan had become in the last few hours. He half-expected Daniel to fall apart under the weight of it, and if he did, he wanted to watch. Or try and push him along. Or both.

Maybe he'd hold off on those couple of things he had to do, pull an illusion around himself and stick around and watch. Maybe he'd follow Daniel around the next couple of days, just to test the limits of his power and to push him into madness.

Those words sent a thrill through Daniel, sexual and eager and delicious all at the same time. Part of himself hated himself for that, loving that it would happen again. He wanted that, wanted more, yet he snorted, giving a roll of his eyes.

"I didn't mean now. I meant in general. You keep changing my life so was curious how much it has changed now," he admitted, which was the truth.

Yet already, even as the temperature of his body cooled, he wasn't sure what to think about this all. He was naked and whole, healed, and yet Dylan had been dead for a moment. Able to rise from it or not, he had died. Died because of Daniel. For a moment as he stared at Dylan, that moment went through his head. Not able to stop himself, the panic of pulling the trigger, and then Dylan laying dead before him. For a moment but...

He shook his head hard, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to clear the image.

"Right. So... Go on then and get a shower. I'm going to try and piece my clothes together so I can at least get to my room. Not willing to give the others the thrill of seeing this magnificent body," he said, smirking, sounding more himself. Shame his gaze didn't quite come back to Dylan like it had been.

Dylan could read that upset on him and for a moment, he was tempted to try and burn it further into Daniel's mind. He thought better of it, however, if only because it seemed to easy a means of destroying him, and instead simply shrugged. "Their loss."

A beat. "Though, I think I've got a spare shirt and pants upstairs." If Daniel wanted to explain why he was wearing Dylan's clothes to whoever he happened to run into. That had the potential to be as difficult to explain away as the tits, though, assuming he had made him keep them.

making war just for fun (for first_rule)

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