Trafficking in Pleasure

Of all the children entranced by the huge bathroom they had the privilege of using, much less the ornate mansion they would now call home, Epitome was the least impressed. He shuffled alongside Kyriliah until he was directed to follow the other children, and followed them wordlessly. Andy tried to strike up a conversation with him, at Kyriliah's suggestion again, but it didn't work out well. Epitome was more than a little gruff in getting the point across that he really didn't need an incubus friend thank you very much.

Not one to be deterred by a little roughness, Andy persisted in trying to strike up some semblance of companionship with the boy.

“Epitome is a neat name.”

“I think it's stupid. It's not even a name. It's just a word,” Epitome answered as he stripped nonchalantly of his scrappy layered clothes. He didn't like the way Andy was hovering. He didn't need help bathing like the other kids apparently did. He had taken a bath once or twice that he could remember, unlike them.

“Oh.” Andy scooped up the tattered and grimy clothing, tucking them in the burlap sack Kyriliah had thrown in the bathroom for their old clothing to go in; they would be provided a proper wardrobe now. “I just meant... it sounds so, um, elegant. Much better than Andy.”

Epitome shrugged, stepping over to where the tiles became more solid and sloped ever so slightly to a drain, getting a cup of water to dump over his head. “Andy is cute, at least.”

Andy brightened at this, rolling up his pant legs and shirt sleeves to step closer, holding out a washcloth and soap to the boy. “Thank you!” It was progress.

“Is it short for anything?”

“I... don't know.”

“Oh. I don't know why I was thinking you were any different from me.” Epitome shrugged, washing his hair first of all, reveling in the strange sensation of it finally being clean. Even with his head drenched, it felt a good pound lighter once his hair was clean. He quickly set to scrubbing his body, ignoring the presence that lingered nearby even after their conversation had died down.

“Hey, what are we doing after this?”

Startled, Andy took a moment to realize Epitome was speaking to him. “Oh, um. We'll get you dressed and fed and settled in...”

“I want to see that guy, Kyriliah or whatever,” Epitome stated firmly, leaving no room for argument as he scrubbed his skin vigorously. He hadn't felt so clean in ages! “And don't say no, you're taking me to him. I'll put on a robe or something, I don't care.”

“Umm.” Andy wasn't so sure about that. No one went to see Kyriliah without being summoned; even the police didn't seek Kyriliah out unless he wanted them to. The only person who dared interrupt Kyriliah unannounced was Sir Grimm Andersen, and Andy had even see him look worried a few times on particularly bad days of the demon's. He didn't want to take his possible new friend to his most probable demise. He didn't want to accompany him to their most probable demise. “O-okay.”


Kyriliah was in his study, going over his books; he didn't trust anyone else with the accounting. He didn't trust anyone else with anything, so why start now? Even if it was a headache to do actual work, that was how the mortal world functioned and if he was going to run an enterprise here then he would have to learn to live like they did. Sure, keeping his business accounts in order wouldn't really be a common task for a few more decades or so, but he liked to keep things sharp. He could see if anyone was trying to screw him over this way.

He heard the shuffling outside the door before he heard the knocking. “Come in,” he said as hand connected with wood in a single thud before someone, Andy he was sure, fumbled the door open. “Yes?”

“I'm sorry to disturb you, Master Kyriliah, but Epitome insisted on seeing you,” Andy said quickly, head bowed and shoulders rigid as he stood between the two of them. Epitome stood tall, barely an inch taller than Andy, behind the other incubus, a fluffy white robe pulled tightly around him and tied loosely. His hair was a brilliant shade of blue in stark contrast against his milky pale skin, and the way his candy pink eyes looked at Kyriliah so fiercely sent a shiver down his spine. This one had spunk, didn't he?

“Alright. I think I know what he wants,” Kyriliah murmured as he turned his chair to face away from his desk and towards the boys. “You're dismissed, Andy. Thank you.”

“Yes, Master.” Keeping his eyes downcast, Andy bowed politely to Kyriliah and turned to give Epitome an encouraging smile. His part in this disaster over with, he quietly shut the door behind him and beat a quick retreat away from the room. He didn't want to be anywhere near the study when whatever was going to happen went down.

“You needed something, Epitome?”

“Yeah. You promised me drugs and I don't want any of that doctored up shit, either,” Epitome hissed, hands resting on his hips. He could care less what happened to him, but he wasn't going to let some jackass jerk him around; if he made promises, he was going to keep them or Epitome was going to let some steam off.

“Mmm, yeah, about that.” Kyriliah crossed his legs at the knees, fingers of one hand tapping idly against the chair's arm. “How should I put this?” Epitome's fingers on his hips twitched. Kyriliah noticed even that faintest of movements and it brought a hint of a smile to his face and a frown to Epitome's.

“You don't have anything.”

“Not really. I don't approve of them for recreational use,” he chuckled and the demon wasn't at all surprised when a flurry of white and cream and blue was upon him, scratching and tearing and trying to break flesh with his fangs. It wasn't too hard for Kyriliah to pull him away at arm's length, but the little hellion started flailing his legs out to kick him and landed a kick right in the crotch. Promptly dropped to the ground, Epitome wore a grin of triumph as Kyriliah cringed and crouched over, but his victory was short lived as he was grabbed and thrown across the room, hitting a bookshelf hard. Books tumbled from the top shelves, hitting him hard all over and guaranteeing bruises before the night was over. He groaned as he pulled himself to his feet, eying Kyriliah's jugular; he'd rip it right out of his throat!

Epitome managed to get his teeth to Kyriliah's throat this time when he attacked, but they barely scraped the skin before he was thrown on the floor again. This time, however, he had no chance to get back up before the demon descended on him, pinning him to the floor limb for limb.

“You like it rough?” he asked, eyes gleaming with fury and perhaps a little lust. The boy's robe had come untied when he first attacked Kyriliah and the demon now made no secret of him checking out the goods. Other than starting to look a bit on the malnourished side, Epitome was quite the sight to behold. Kyriliah didn't think he'd ever get over how attractive incubi were; it was a very unfair advantage the species had.

“You're a lying bastard!” Epitome spat, struggling to get out from under him to no avail. He was pinned and could do nothing but lay still under that lecherous gaze. Even if Epitome wasn't a virgin, it still made him uncomfortable to have someone eying him like a piece of meat—and hell, if the rumors were true and Kyriliah really was an honest to God demon then he could probably eat him like a piece of meat, too!

“Yes, I never said otherwise,” Kyriliah chuckled, removing his leather belt and earning a warning growl from Epitome that went straight to the man's groin. “So feisty,” he purred, leaning down to nip the boy's lower lip. Eyes narrowed, Epitome squirmed one of his legs out from under Kyriliah's, rubbing it against the man's. If he couldn't get drugs, he could at least get something good out of this; Kyriliah was quite attractive and if he was running a whore house then he'd probably be pretty good in bed. If he couldn't satisfy one desire, he'd just go for the other. And when did an incubus not desire sex?

“Oh, you're going to acquiesce to this?” Legs freed when Kyriliah was sure he wasn't going to be kicked again, they moved to wrap around his waist and pull him down to press against the boy. “I guess I forgot for a moment was the single strongest vice of your kind is,” he said, closing his mouth over Epitome's before he could make a comeback. He had a good one, too. But kissing was nicer, parting his lips to let the other man's tongue probe against his, filling his smaller mouth with a strange but sensual feeling of warmth and pressure. When a hand gently slid through his hair and rested at the nape of his neck, Epitome couldn't help the moan that escaped in to Kyriliah's mouth. He didn't usually get touched like that; it was always wham-bam-thankyouma'am.

Kyriliah was having none of that, though. When he was thoroughly satisfied that he had properly seen to Epitome's mouth, he moved his own lips down to his neck, sucking and nipping as if he were an incubus or even a vampire, earning soft moans in return that had his hips twitching in response every other time. He jerked back suddenly when a curtain of bright blond hair fell around him, the boy having slipped the tie out of his too long hair.

“Is that not okay?” he asked with a little smirk, digging both hands through the nearly yellow locks, fingernails scraping his scalp in a way that tingled more than it hurt. “Your hair is so nice, though,” he purred, licking his lips, knowing what it had to be doing to the man. It was easy to guess that Kyriliah wasn't used to having one of his young wards be so forward with him. He'd probably be gone in no time if he took the time to go down on him, but that wasn't what Epitome wanted now. He was enjoying the sometimes gentle, often violent, touches and the way Kyriliah would occasionally undo a single button or toss an article of clothing aside before touching him again. It was like the demon couldn't get enough of him and it was both exhilarating and empowering.

Epitome soon found himself seated on the cushioned settee of the study, slick with oil between his legs, the demon's release mixing with the oil as his own stomach remained sticky with his release. He relaxed against the soft padding while he tried to catch his breath, watching the man who was casually dressing himself as if nothing had happened, as if he didn't have blood trickling down his forehead from when Epitome had gotten a little too excited while his hand was still in his hair. Once he was dressed, he merely wiped the trail of blood away with a small smile; he had enjoyed the viciousness of their coupling. Just thinking about what they had done to each other made a fire start to burn in the pit of his stomach again. Unfortunately, looking at his small lover, he didn't think they would repeat this any time soon. He was a mess, he probably couldn't tell now as he came down from that pleasure high, but Kyriliah could see the beginnings of countless bruises and a few of his own scratches were bleeding.

“Andy can take care of cleaning you up,” he said when Epitome finally began to shuffle about, pulling his robe on. He had figured he'd be expected to leave, but so suddenly? “What?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled, wiping himself off with the robe and carrying it in one arm instead of wearing it. He wasn't going to walk around with that mess on him, he'd rather be naked. “I'll go.”

“Yes, please do and get cleaned up again. Tell Andy to take care of those scratches on your back, too, please. I hope you didn't get blood on my settee...” Kyriliah sighed fretfully as he turned his chair back to his desk.

“I hope I did, bastard,” Epitome grumbled as he slammed the office door behind him. It could have been a perfectly blissful tryst if it hadn't been with such a self-centered asshole.