Divinitas

~ Divinitas ~

http://cruelangel.net/divinitas
email: caleyndar@gmail.com

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060 - White Sheets. Blood Scent.

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White vision, white scent. It didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong here.

With a start, Phoenix’s consciousness returned, heart racing within his chest. The memory of his last waking moments flooded back through his mind, making his heart skip a rapid beat as he realised none of that had been a dream, but was dreaded reality.

Dressed in white. Purest white, to match his pure white wings. His joints still ached, a faint reminder of what they stood for, and a whispered promise and threat.

He was lying face down on a large bed, whose edges he couldn’t even sense. It was from this bed that the scent rose, that white scent, to match its white silk sheets and pillows. But it didn’t belong, did it? This whiteness. Because all around him, the room was dark, the tones were of the night and its mysteries.

But the scent. White. Pure. There was no other way to describe it. It was more than fresh, new. It was… untainted. Innocent. And it was familiar. Yet it was so very, very wrong, for it to be embedded in these white coverings, placed on this bed, in this room.

There was no doubt in Phoenix’s mind where he was. Aether’s rooms. Aether’s bed. And that white scent. It belonged to Aether. And yet it didn’t. This white, pure scent… it belonged to Aether… a long, long time ago.

Phoenix started, shoving himself up from the soft white pillows he had been wallowing in. The sound of the door opening, of approaching footsteps that suddenly stopped short.

Blazing crimson met captivating amethyst over the distance, a growl forming in the back of Phoenix’s throat.

“You didn’t,” the God of Fire hissed, scooting to the edge of the huge bed and throwing his legs over the side. “You didn’t just think ‘who the hell is that girl lying on my bed?’ did you?!”

“. . .”

“You did!” Phoenix accused, yanking the skirt down to his knees and storming over to where the God of Soul stood. “Fuck youtherther. Fuck you! I might be in your sister’s fucking dress, but you of all people should recognise me! You sold half your soul for me, and as soon as your evil seamstress dumps me in a dress, you ask ‘who the hell is that?’” Phoenix ranted in Aether’s face, half noticing that only his left amethyst eye was visible, but too upset and embarrassed at being in female dress and being mistaken for a girl to fully care.

Before Phoenix knew what was happening, Aether had dragged him into the bathroom and placed him in front of the mirror.

It took all of Phoenix’s will not to scream and run out of the bathroom.

The girl staring back at him in the mirror was not him. That was not his face. Gods. Could makeup change someone so completely that even the owner wouldn’t recognise himself? And his hair. It was in curls. Curls! Someone was going to pay. Dearly.

“I hate all of you,” Phoenix growled, hopelessly raking his fingers through his deformed hair, trying desperately to straighten it back up. “Arrggghhh! What the fuck did she do to my hair?! Straighten, damn you!”

Aether cleared his throat from where he stood behind the bewildered God of Fire. “Maybe if you wet it…?” the God of Soul suggested, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice but failing.

Phoenix sent a death glare at Aether through the mirror, flexing his left wing and smacking the offending God of Soul in the face. “Shut up you,” Phoenix growled, but never the less stuck his head under the gushing fountain of water. He also clawed at his face whilst he was at it, hoping to remove the horrid makeup.

A hand closed over Phoenix’s left wing, just above the still tender joint. The God of Fire froze, his frenzied frame of mind leaving him in an instant. Memory of pain stabbed through his mind, his body tensing, crippled by the sensory recall.

But Aether’s hand did nothing painful. Fingertips probed gently at the joint, feeling its correct placement in the socket. Then his hand lifted, leaving in its wake an ache for the loss of warmth.

“You look like a boy again, Phoenix. There’s no need to rub your skin off your face.” A fluffy white towel was dropped on top of Phoenix’s wet head, and by the time Phoenix pulled it away from face, Aether had already left the bathroom.

Crimson eyes glance down at the towel in his hands. White again. And that same white scent. So out of place within this bathroom where black marble and silver fixtures ruled. Phoenix’s mind blanked. Something wasn’t right. And the feeling of trepidation only grew within him as he lifted the towel to his head and dried off his hair. Why the white, when it obviously clashed with the room’s entire design?

The question almost made the God of Fire forget. The recent events – his downfall – almost slipped his mind.

“Aether -” The God of Fire stopped short, halting mid-step as he saw and heard the zing of metal on metal at the same instant. His hands stilled in his hair, falling down to his side forgotten. The damp white towel dripped to the floor, pooling at his ankles, violently white against the dark marble.

The God of Soul didn’t turn away from what he was doing at the sound of his name. He just continued to lay out the array of elegant blades upon a white towel that covered the bedside table. More white towels were piled on the seat of a chair that had been pulled up beside the bed.

“Why the fucking white,” Phoenix demanded, hot temper spiking the volume of his voice.

“I thought that would be obvious, my Phoenix,” Aether answered quietly, finally casting a darkly seductive look at the God of Fire. “They’re for you. After all… blood hardly shows up on black. And I would like to keep these once we’re done. Think of it as a fair maiden keeping her sheets from her virgin night.”

Phoenix twitched. “Shut it with the girl comments or I will bite your fucking balls off. Then we’ll see who the girl is.”

Aether laughed. “I was never one to ask for pleasure… so I doubt the occasion for you to be down at my crotch would even arise. After all, you’re my toy. I get to play with you. Not the other way around.”

“Oh? Such a pity. My bastard of a Keeper taught me how to pleasure him to his liking. Pity I can’t try on you. I wouldn’t mind hearing you screaming for once,” the God of Fire spat back, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

The God of Soul smiled. “It would probably be in your best interest not to bring up the fact that you’ve slept with your Keeper before me. I seem to be possessive and easily jealous when it comes to you,” Aether said pleasantly, a direct contrast to his heated one-eyed amethyst gaze.

“I didn’t notice,” Phoenix growled, walking towards Aether slowly. The skirt brushed against his thighs, annoying him. It was uncomfortable to feel so naked, even with clothes on. “Answer my question before you begin to fulfil your promise to me,” the God of Fire said in a slow dangerous voice once he had stopped a step away from the other deity. “The sheets. And the pillow cases, and these towels even. Why do they smell so pure, so white? It’s your scent, but it’s not. Why?”

Aether actually looked surprised. Of all the questions, this wasn’t what he had expected. Questions and demands about his ownership over the God of Fire, why he had done what he had done, accusations and threats and damnations… but not a question concerning his scent.

“Genesis said this place didn’t use to be so empty and dead. That there were people here once. But then you shut them all out. What changed with you? So much so that your scent has changed. Because that’s it, isn’t it? These use to belong to you. A long time ago. And you haven’t used them since because they’re so white and pure and innocent,” Phoenix stated, something violent pulsing through his veins.

Want to hurt you… Always hurt you. This is the game we forever play.

The God of Soul’s demeanour darkened. “Why should you care? You hate me.”

“You hate me too. I care because we hate each tother, and you’ve made it so we will be hating each other for the rest of eternity. I care because you’re about to tear off my fucking wings and spill my blood all over these sheets which has your purity and innocence stamped on them,” Phoenix growled back. “What the hell are you trying to do, Aether? Did you chain me to you to try and regain something you’ve lost, or are you trying to rip it away from you completely?”

Crippling silence within the eye of the storm.

“And what do you think I’ve lost?” Aether asked finally, so quietly, and dangerously low and pleasant.

The God of Fire refused to be intimidated by the tone of Aether’s voice. “You lost the ability to feel. But you found that in me. I felt, and I suffered. I was passionate when I first met you. I remember wanting to live so badly that it hurt, and I still do. So you named me, there and then. After the Divine Beast of Fire. A phoenix. A bird of fire, that symbolises death and rebirth.” Phoenix eyes blazed. “That’s what you want from me, isn’t it? The ability to feel. I make you feel want. I make you feel anger. I make you feel hate. But what you truly want to feel… it’s love, isn’t it!”

The ringing of a sound slap echoed around the room. The God of Fire staggered, head snapping to the side. It momentarily dazed him, impeding all thoughts and moment.

“Heh. Proves I’m right, doesn’t it?” Phoenix whispered finally with a feral grin, gingerly touching fingertips to the throbbing side of his face. Fiery red eyes focused in the silently fuming God of Soul, fire dancing within the crimson depths. “You don’t know how to love, Aether. And you’ll never know it from me as long as I’m chained to you like some pet slave. How unfortunate for you that the chain you’ve shackled around my neck can never be removed.”

Still the God of Soul said and did nothing, his hand still raised in the position his slapping Phoenix’s face had taken it.

The God of Fire let his hand drop, his smirk fading. “Like I said to you before you threw me down from Heaven…” Phoenix began, taking the final step that separated them, “you didn’t have to go this far.”

Fingers slid through the golden bangs that now veiled the right side of Aether’s face, slowly tangling themselves within the silky locks.

“When I gave myself to you that one time in Deus’ rooms… I told you to find another way to possess me. Just to make it clear to you… selling half your soul for me… wasn’t want I meant,” Phoenix whispered, brushing aside the concealing locks and looking into the hidden silver and gold eye.

The God of Fire let the chill shiver down his spine. Demon’s eye, yet given by the King of Gods. The power it held over him was undeniable, and it made Phoenix’s body tremble, just looking at it in its dormant state. Phoenix closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Aether’s, sealing out the blinding sight.

You didn’t want it. You told me to die, and only when I denied you that did you sell half your soul for this monstrosity. I’m not wrong. You wouldn’t hide it behind locks of your hair if you didn’t care.

“I’m tired,” the God of Fire said quietly, letting himself disengage from Aether’s unresponsive body. Blood red eyes drifted to the set of silver bladed knives sitting innocently on the bedside table. “I can’t live up to your expectations at this moment, Aether. I can’t scream and fight you with the passion you want. I won’t let myself slip into endless depression or guilt over what I have done… but right now… I can’t fight. I don’t have the will to live at this moment, and surely even your heartless soul can understand why. Our little spat will have to satisfy you for now. If you still want to cut off my wings, then do it. I don’t really care.”

The silence that followed seemed to stretch into eternity, blood red gaze dying to mere glowing embers, whilst Aether’s visible amethyst eye smouldered still with hate and bitterness.

“You know… I have already removed the wings from the other three deities I acquired in the process of possessing you. Before you even touched the water of the ocean you fell into,” Aether said suddenly, voice smoothed and casual, as if the words spoken were only of passing value.

Red eyes widened as Aether’s words sunk into Phoenix’s exhausted mind. The God of Fire’s head shot up, his fierce glare piercing Aether’s single-eyed gaze. “You didn’t,” Phoenix whispered, pain and fear encircling his heart. Chimaera. Chimaera didn’t deserve to have his wings cut off. He was innocent. He…

Aether smirked. “Do you want me to show you how I did it?” the God of Soul asked innocently, picking up a knife from the perfectly laid out array on the bedside table. “I would rather hear your screams and curses… I don’t want to hear what you think and believe about ‘us,’ or how you think I feel.”

That was the last straw. If Phoenix had felt any inkling of sympathy for Aether, it vanished in a heated blaze, burnt to cinders by Aether’s cutting words. “Bastard!” Phoenix roared, lunging at Aether, only to be caught around the neck and chokingly flung onto the bed. The youth landed on his stomach, hands around his throat, coughing violently as he struggled to breathe.

“I thought you said you couldn’t fight me? That you were tired?” Aether commented mockingly, climbing onto the bed and seizing Phoenix’s left wing.

“Where the hell are they! Let go, you sick fiend!” Phoenix cursed, trying to hit away Aether’s biting hand, his anger flaring dangerously high. “If you hurt Chimaera… If you made him cry…! Damn it, he’s an innocent! You didn’t have to hurt him!”

Aether laughed, sharply twisting the already tender wing and causing Phoenix to wince in pain. “Shouldn’t you be worried more about yourself, my dear Phoenix? You’ll be begging me to stop before I’ve finished tearing each and every feather off your cursed white wings.”

“I will never beg you for anything, Aether,” Phoenix hissed, struggling to squirm free from the other’s painful grasp.

“Oh? Would you like to test the strength of your conviction?” the God of Soul offered with a grin, shifting his hold on the wing and causing Phoenix it let out a sharp cry. A shudder of pain rolled through Phoenix’s body, leaving him feeling weak and helpless. “Wings are the symbol of your divinity, and they are your greatest strength and your greatest weakness. You’ll be in pain forever without your wings, even if your wounds heal.

“But despite knowing that… I will take my time and relish in the pleasure of stripping you of your wings. You shall never fly away from me, Phoenix. You will not possess wings which can take you to that damned place you call Heaven.”

Phoenix’s wing was yanked backwards, forced into its most outstretched position. The white feathers flared, a brilliant display in the pale light that suddenly tensed, a violent shockwave heaving through them, echoing the blood curdling scream that ripped through the room.

The blade Aether had picked up protruded through the joint of the outstretched wing, where feathers met the flesh of Phoenix’s back. Bright red blood bubbled from the wound, the divine body struggling to heal a wound that was kept open and gapping by the embedded blade.

The God of Fire collapsed completely onto the bed, fingers clutching uselessly at the white sheets, desperately trying to relieve some of the pain that shot through and through his body, running up and down his back and encircling the place where his left wing sprung from his flesh. He wanted to scream, ‘take it out, take it out!’ yet his teeth only bit down on his bottom lip, drawing forth another well of red.

Long moments passed, with only Phoenix’s ragged breathing filling the silence. Blood was running down Phoenix’s side, soaking and spreading over the pure white of his dress and sheets. His left wing was immobile now, its tendon and muscle severed, useless. It still felt, and it still cried out endlessly in pain, but it was limp, unable to help itself, a thing now that was merely a burden and weakness to the one it was attached.

A twisted smile tugged on Phoenix lips as he half turned his head to face Aether. “A symbol of divinity, Lord Aether?” Phoenix whispered, eyes filled with malice. “Is that why you cut them off yourself? Your pretty black wings? You hate your duties as a god, don’t you? You neglect them because they’ve made you become-”

The words were drowned out as Phoenix let out another raw-throated scream, his body convulsing as Aether viciously stabbed another blade into the calf of Phoenix’s right leg.

“Didn’t I tell you already? That I didn’t want to hear another word from you about what you think you know about me?” Aether asked quietly, even has his hand twisted the blade, scrapping its tip on the two bones until it slide through between them.

Phoenix wanted to cry. Gods, how he wanted to sob into the sheets and scream and scream and scream because the pain was just so bad, throbbing like some living thing, a malignant cancer spreading throughout his body. Yet the only thing he did when he had regained enough breath was laugh, even as the tears he would never let fall stung his blood red eyes.

“And if I don’t say the words, do you really think they would cease to exist? That I wouldn’t think it, believe it every time I look at you, Aether?” Phoenix forced out between laboured breaths and twisted laughter, a sheen of sweat appearing on his blood-slicked skin.

No verbal answer, just another silvery zing of metal moving through air, claw-like fingers snaring blood-tinted feathers, and a bloody scream that was Phoenix’s own cleaving the silence.

The God of Soul stopped. Blood dripped from both hands, blood that was redder than red, filled with life that was slipping away into nothingness. Without willing it, Aether lifted his left hand, the one that held the severed bloody feathers with a part of the fleshy wing still attached. It wasn’t the whole wing. Just a part. Just a small, bloody part.

Aether licked it. Let his tongue slide over the still hot flesh, tasting the coppery red blood that dripped from it down his chin. Alive, alive, and so full of fire and defiance. It made him smile, and let his rage and hatred slip down his body to feed his lust.

With a causal grace, Aether slipped the already red blade into Phoenix’s right wing, mirroring the placement on the left. The scream was music to his ears, and he could almost hear the blood in it, ripped from Phoenix’s raw throat.

The God of Soul smiled, and let his hand fall gently to Phoenix’s back, running gentle fingers over the hot blood and sweat-slicked skin in between his shoulder blades. It was so interesting to watch, as it must be for a boy when he first catches a butterfly and tears its wings off just to see what might happen, only infinitely more beautiful because of the red that gushed out, spilling into intricate patters over the purest white. Add to that the sharp intakes of breath that barely suppressed the screams, coupled with the sporadic spasms that rippled through Phoenix’s body… It was mesmerising.

The severed feathers were cast aside, tossed like so much unnecessary trash onto the bare floor. The blood from the attached flesh was gone, but lying before him, struggling so sensually, writhing on the blood stained sheets… was a god full of that rich life’s liquid, and oh so willing to give it.

“I just realised something,” Aether said with a sadistic smile, letting his hand trail down Phoenix’s back, immersing it in the blood and sweat that pooled there before gliding over the soft material of his outfit until he came to the hem of the skirt. “I should take you at least once while you still have your white wings intact. Something like tasting Heaven before you fall into Hell?”

Phoenix’s eyes snapped wide open as he felt Aether’s fingers, fingers wet and warm with his own blood, slide in between his legs, seeking out his heat hidden under his white ruffled dress.

The God of Fire bucked, struggled with unchecked fury to get away from Aether’s slick stroking fingers that touched and teased him to matter how he twisted and turned. “Fuck off, Aether!” Phoenix growled out, trying to will his hands to unclench the white silken sheets so they could be free to strike out at Aether. Only the pain kept them there, overrode all signals that told them to do otherwise, leaving Phoenix’s body undefended, open to Aether’s whims.

Aether laughed. “No, I don’t think so…” Aether breathed, stroking the length of flesh still, molding it, teasing it to life. “You should enjoy this pleasure, Phoenix… because believe me when I say you will know nothing but pain for days afterwards,” the God of Soul promised, his free hand pushing up the white skirt to reveal Phoenix’s firm rounded cheeks. “I have to hand it to my seamstress… to forgo you your undergarments.” Aether chuckled, lowering his head to rest his cheek against Phoenix’s backside. “Maybe I should give her a raise… she knows me so well.”

The God of Fire’s breath caught in his raw throat, feeling Aether pressed up against him in such a place. His fingers still played with him, stroking him up and down in long sensuous movements. It was torture, Aether’s hand, and the press of his own weight down onto the silken smooth sheets. It made Phoenix want to sob. It felt too good and he didn’t want to feel anything but the pain and hatred that warred within him against the tiny voice saying just to give up, stop struggling, and enjoy what Aether was doing to him.

It was the feeling of Aether running his other fingers through the river of blood from his right calf that brought Phoenix’s mind snapping back. Before Phoenix could even react, his blood was smeared between his legs, and fingers were stroking at his tight opening, teasingly, softly, slicked with his warm red blood.

Phoenix’s breaths came out in sharp little grasps, his whole body trembling at the tickling sensation, that intimate invasion of privacy that was so violating and pleasurable at the same time. His body was going into overload, from the pain, from the pleasure, from the mere presence of his God lying half on top of him, playing with him like the pretty new toy that he was.

“Would you scream from pain or pleasure, I wonder, if I fucked you whilst I continue shredding your wings from your back,” Aether breathed, breath burning against Phoenix’s flushed skin. The deity slide a finger inside the youth, rubbing against the inner walls, feeling the intense heat and the fierce pulse that revibrated through Phoenix’s body.

Phoenix grinded his teeth together, his muscles tightening at the intrusion, even as the constant stroking lulled him into such a state of arousal it made him wish Aether would just shut up and do as he suggested. Damn it! Why was he so turned on like this?! His body sd had have been over Aether. He had everything he wanted from Aether – the deity’s want and need for him – so why was he still so hot and bothered by Aether’s intimate touch? He shouldn’t be. He should be so filled with hatred that it burnt up all of the lust in him and killed his arousal. But here he was, writhing on Aether’s bed, panting, sweating, bleeding, as Aether inserted another finger, pushing deeper into him, brushing against his prostate and making his body buck from the mind-shattering sensation.

Before he knew what was happening, Aether had pulled his lower half up off the bed and moved behind him, pushing his knees apart with his own. The higher deity’s hands left him, pushing his own obstructing garments out of the way and positioning himself at Phoenix’s opening.

Something cracked in Phoenix then. The self-denial, the stead-fast belief of needing to hate this, of denying Aether the pleasure of making him aroused against his will, was violently shoved aside, and Phoenix pushed himself back onto Aether’s member, already hard from merely inflicting pain on Phoenix and tasting his blood.

The shock of Phoenix’s out of character action and enveloping pleasure took a moment to pass, but Phoenix’s command to get on with it, growled out between his panting breaths, more than brought Aether’s mind back to where it belonged – in his lower regions, which should have been fucking Phoenix’s tight ass.

The God of Fire let out a moan of pleasure, pushing back against Aether as the other drove into him, hitting his prostate again without fail. “You feel good, Aether,” Phoenix breathed, before biting down on the silken sheets as Aether moved inside of him again.

Aether left the comment roll over him, denying it entrance to his mind, refusing to even try to comprehend why Phoenix was doing this when he had been fighting and cursing him only moments before. The God of Soul only picked up another knife, running his free hand along the top of Phoenix’s left wing whilst grinding himself up against Phoenix’s body, feeling Phoenix’s flesh surrounding him tightly. With a sensually slow movement, Aether dragged the sharp blade of the knife over the feathered bone closest to Phoenix’s body, slicing through flesh until it slide against the hardness, effectively cutting a ring through the flesh around the bone.

Phoenix didn’t scream, not even when Aether left hand moved up to the new wound and dug his fingers in it, probing it, keeping it opening and bleeding. He just groaned into the sheets as he bit down hard on them. The pain felt good, clean, and the blood that ran down his white feathers for the newest wound… that felt caressing and cleansing.

The tip of Aether’s knife ran down Phoenix’s back, not hard enough to break skin, but effectively drawing Phoenix’s attention back to him. “Listen, my Phoenix… What I’m about to do will hurt more than anything else I’ve done to you so far. I’ve severed the flesh and feathers that attach your wing to your back, meaning your whole wing will rip free when I dislocate it at the elbow joint… It will hurt, but it will leave only the humerus bone attached to your shoulder, and then it will only be a matter of digging that out. Do you understand what I’m going to do now? I won’t allow you to pass out on me from shock, Phoenix,” Aether commanded, thrusting again into Phoenix as if to push the point home.

The God of Fire only made some unintelligible sound, muffled into the sheets, squeezing the muscles of his inner walls, saying silently that Aether had better get on with it or there would be hell to pay. The God of Soul had kept agonisingly still all through that boring instructional speech… did he really think Phoenix cared at this point? Just rip those annoying wings off already and then fuck him until he was raw.

A soft chuckle welled up from Aether’s throat, amused and delighted at Phoenix’s response. Well, his little bird of fire would get want it wanted.

Seizing the prepared wing by its humerus bone with his right hand, Aether proceeded to rip the flesh back away from the bone with his left.

Phoenix’s eyes snapped wide open, his back arching, stiffening as his whole body seized up. It felt like someone was pulling his soul out of his body. All too keenly he felt Aether’s hand slide down to the first joint, fingernails scrapping against bloodied bone. Its mere presence caused sharp stinging pain that seemed to burn into the bone. And gods, the blood. It gushed from the fount in his back, a gapping hole with an exposed bone poking through the mess of red. A red river that slithered down his sides pooled momentarily on the silk sheets before sinking in, staining everything a bright red.

It wasn’t until the echoing sound of his scream had faded did Phoenix realised he had screamed. Then the pure intensity of the pain caught up with him, making his vision black out, his whole mind simply shutting down. Phoenix didn’t even feel it when Aether dislocated his wing at its elbow joint, severing the attached tendons with the knife and laying the wing down beside him.

Aether leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Phoenix’s neck, tasting the salt on his skin as he licked it. “Didn’t I tell you not pass out on me, Phoenix?” Aether asked softly, his fingers trailing down Phoenix’s sides, delighting in the way Phoenix’s body quivered under his light touch. “I’m not going to move until you wake up,” the God of Soul promised, placing a double meaning on the word move.

“No pleasure until I endure the pain, ka…?” Phoenix whispered weakly after a long moment, smirking despite everything else. Only their hearts had kept the rhythm, broken what otherwise would have been deathly silence. Phoenix shifted, regaining control of his body. The God of Fire made a soft sound, feeling the throb of his own arousal and that of Aether’s buried deep inside him. The pain could overwhelm him and wipe his mind out, but not his arousal. He really was a masochist, wasn’t he…? Just his luck. “Finish this, Aether… Dig the bone out and rip off the other wing… I want release,” Phoenix breathed, eyes closed, cheek pressed against the bloodied sheets, face half hidden from view by his arms.

“As you wish,” Aether said with a smile, pulling himself out of Phoenix until only the tip remained before slowly sliding back in. The god beneath him groaned, and barely noticed as Aether’s hands gripped the bloodied bone and took hold the knife that still skewered through Phoenix’s flesh, just below the bone.

The tendons had already been cut by the knife’s entry when Aether had first stabbed it through Phoenix’s wing. Now it served as the starting point to dig the bone out.

It was odd. How it had hurt so, so much when it began. How he had wanted to beg Aether to stop, to take the flesh invading blades out of his body. But now it invited it, wanted it. His body fed off the pain, turned it into pleasure. He wanted the pain and pleasure Aether inflected on it. Yes. It was like the time he had let Aether taken him in Deus’ room. But now… now it was heightened by the fact he had resisted, and this was against his will when it began. That made his heart race. It was exciting because it bordered on the forbidden, like a drug. Oh yes… Aether was certainly like a drug. He could grow addicted it this.

Phoenix had screamed again when Aether used the knife to dig his wing bone out. It tore out some part of him with it. His soul was crying now because it felt incomplete, was incomplete… but Phoenix ignored it, opted to feel the carnal pleasure, the sweet sensation of his own blood running down his flushed skin, heat against heat.

The same procedure followed for the second wing, and all too soon both bloodied white wings laid severed on the bloodstained white sheets. Phoenix’s breathing was erratic, and his throat so raw it hurt merely to gasp or moan. His back was a bloody red mess, the two gapping wounds refusing to heal because his body demanded that there be wings there. It hurt, and he had bled so much blood he felt light-headed, on the verge of blacking out again.

But Aether’s hand was now back around his throbbing member, stroking up and down it in time with his thrusts. Somehow, Phoenix found the strength to match Aether’s pace, panting with the effort as he pushed himself back onto Aether and then slide forward until he was almost off before slamming back. It was no longer gentle, teasing. It bordered on violent, and Phoenix revelled in it.

With a final jerk, Phoenix orgasmed, his pearly semen splattering on the underside of the white skirt. His whole body sang with the pleasure that rolled crashing through him, dimly feeling Aether release deep within him before collapsing wholly onto the bloodstained bed.

It took several long moments before Phoenix’s senses came back to him. His breathing had slowed a little by then, and he was drawing long deep breaths. Aether was only just pulling out of him now, and despite his hatred toward the other deity, he couldn’t deny that he disliked the sudden loss of having Aether filling him.

“Your wounds won’t close,” Aether said quietly, laying down beside Phoenix, nestling in between the youth’s body and one of his severed wings. One hand trailed lightly over the narrow strip of untouched flesh down the center of Phoenix back, drawing an involuntary shudder from the exhausted deity.

“You knew they wouldn’t… telling me won’t change anything,” Phoenix muttered back, eyes half mast as he looked apathetically towards Aether. For some reason… he really hated Aether’s right eye. It marred his perfection. The amethyst had been so much prettier. “You didn’t live up to your promise, Aether… yoark ark is worse than your bite,” Phoenix taunted with a pale smirk. “You didn’t take your time to rip each and every feather off my wings. You just pulled the whole wing off in one go.”

Aether leaned forward and kissed Phoenix’s lips, tasting the youth’s blood from when he had bitten his bottom lip. No wound remained, closed as soon as the cause was taken away. After a moment, a bit annoyed by Phoenix’s lack of response, the God of Soul pulled back. “And you gave into me,ouraouraged me to take you, even though you swore that you would never give yourself willingly to me again,” Aether countered, looking into the near extinguished red eyes. “Why did you suddenly stop fighting me, Phoenix?”

“I’m not going to deny myself the experience. It felt good, so why should I pretend it doesn’t when I have no choice but to endure it anyway? I liked the feel of you in me, Aether. Just as I like the feeling your essence mixed with my blood running down between my legs now,” Phoenix answered without hesitation, smiling as he shifted his body slightly, letting bare skin slide against the silk. His eyes opened slightly as he felt Aether move, rolling over to snatch up the white towels he had set aside before.

Gently, with a lovers touch, Aether cleaned up the fluids, pressing another clean towel against Phoenix’s ruined back. The God of Fire hissed at the contact, swearing at Aether.

“Did you really do this to the other three,” Phoenix questioned quietly once Aether had finished and was lying next to him again.

Aether’s lips still against Phoenix’s neck, and his hand rested on the back of Phoenix’s head, fingers massaging the youth’s scalp. “This? Exactly this?” Aether laughed. “Of course not… This is reserved for you and only you. The others didn’t feel any pain. Casimir saw to that.”

“So you said all that just to provoke me… about showing me what you did to the others.”

“Of course. I wanted you to resist me.”

“Bastard.” Silence fell momentarily as Phoenix ran the series of events through his head. “Were you disappointed when I began to encourage you?”

“I enjoy everything about you, my Phoenix… but I will not tolerate apathy. I have too much of that already. If you are apathetic towards me, I will torture you until you scream and beg for me to give you release,” Aether promised, resuming his soft sucking kisses along the back of Phoenix’s neck.

“Okay,” Phoenix agreed, closing his eyes and relaxing against Aether’s touch. “Ne… did you find what you were looking for… did spilling my blood on your innocence tell you want you wanted to know… or did you wash away what you despised with my blood…?”

Aether didn’t answer, just continued to kiss Phoenix’s sweat-stained neck, occasionally licking up dried splattered blood and feeling the slow strong pulse through the arteries against his lips.

It wasn’t long until Phoenix’s breathing deepened, signalling the deity’s slip into unconsciousness. Aether lifted his lips from Phoenix’s neck, looking down at the sleeping God of Fire on his bloodstained bed.

Phoenix’s question still whispered against his ears, caressing his thoughts. “Did I find what I was looking for, my Phoenix?” Aether wondered, running a hand lightly over skin and cloth. “At least… I know I am leaning towards wanting to regain what I have lost rather than ripping it away from me completely.”

Gently moving the prone body, Aether striped Phoenix of his once white dress and removed the single remaining blade from his calf before wrapping him up in the sheets. The dress was ruined now. The bloodstains would never come out. But he would keep it all the same… and stay silent about it if Casimir ever asked what happened to the dress she gave to the seamstress to be mended.




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