[ At first, Yzak grimaces at the very mention of opening up a vein because that is not something he would have ever banked on hearing in his entire life, much less in a fucked up context like this.
But the reality of the idea isn't nearly as bad as the initial image it invokes, especially not when Dearka sounds like he intends to be careful. Something small and painless to test the waters, because Yzak isn't even sure what a minute amount of blood is going to do to him, when he can hardly stand things as they are now.
He still has reservations, but he clearly untenses some, his wings folding in more and moving less erratically. Whether Dearka intends to look loomy or not, Yzak doesn't regard him with any sort of fear when he stares, head tipping slightly as he considers whether or not he wants to do this.
The wave of need that courses through him in that moment pushes him a little harder toward his answer. The answer Yzak wishes to choose because if it can help and put his mind in a clearer place, at least until morning, that will be a very good thing. The answer that hunger wants, which is a greedy, near lustful yes. That sensation though, feels a bit like nausea so he brings his hand up loosely to his mouth again, pulling in a deep breath through his nose. He exhales against his own palm with a muttered: ]
I do feel ... like I'm so god damned hungry...
[ Yzak swallows thick, and in his eyes it looks as though he's prepared to say yes. But before he does, he feels the need to add: ]
Variations in Greek legends say it can just as easily be saliva that does something like that. Not just fangs—
[While Yzak argues with himself and takes the time to breathe through this, Dearka waits as patiently as he can manage, given that there's an electric tension thrumming between the two of them. He hasn't quite managed to sort out just why he's so invested in getting a 'yes' from Yzak on this, beyond the obvious factor of concern for someone important to him. If Yzak decides he still doesn't want to try this, they'll just have to figure something else out. Right? It's not that big of a deal...
But just when it seems like he's going to get that 'yes' after all, Yzak starts fretting some more about Greek mythology or something. Dearka, whose ears had been pricked up excitedly for a moment, sighs, closes his eyes... Rubs his forehead for a moment... Lets Yzak continue without really listening...
...Until he can't deal the inaction anymore.
That's when he walks up, pushes Yzak's hand out of the way, and swoops in to shut him up with a kiss. If he's calculating right, hopefully he'll catch him with his mouth already open so he can slip him some tongue all the more easily :/]
[ Well, the kiss is going to prove that it is in fact safe to go the route Dearka just suggested, because as luck would have it, that prattling on about other vampiric lores and potentially poisonous saliva gets debunked in the process. A risky action, but luck is apparently on their side for that much at least.
Yzak perks up when Dearka closes the distance between them, cautious because how else could he be at a sudden movement in such a precariously mysterious time? But when he grabs his hand and leans in to kiss him, that already electric tension sparks even stronger. A common feeling of his regardless, because in reality every time he kisses Dearka he feels that - the flip his heart always makes, the way he feels every nerve in his body light up like something new is awakening in him - and it's a feeling that hasn't waned even if it's come to be something so familiar to him. (but also let's be real yzak is the one who's going to be 15 years into a marriage and still blushing when his feelings get too intense) A noise of surprise gets muffled in his throat as that hand pushed away grips at Dearka's wrist. For what feels like a very long moment, everything in Yzak's body language, including the way his wings perk straight up behind him, is rigid...
Until it can't help but erode when the kiss is held for a beat, two beats, and maybe it's because of the way his own body's changed, but the warmth of his tongue and the slightly different feeling Dearka's mouth feels against his with his own changes are little details he picks up on so much more easier right now. For that moment, it feels ... nice, as it always does, and oh that it could remain that way because how Yzak would love just let himself melt into it more than he's already begun to.
But he realizes how easily he could bite down on Dearka's tongue. On his lips. How easily he could tear into him and how part of him desperately wants to. And this close where he can feel Dearka's heartbeat as loudly as he can his own is near deafening and dangerous and— ]
[ The hand around Dearka's wrist tightens, and his other hand drops onto his shoulder. He pulls his head back to break the kiss with a low, needy exhale (maybe not quite the needy it would usually be, though) and push him back - push, not shove, so his hands remain where they are and he's still basically face to face with the other man as his own face scrunches up, flushed and scowling. ]
[It's certainly a strange experience kissing him like this, being so different and yet so familiar... But it's an experience Dearka thoroughly enjoys, and he feels the wild instincts churning inside of him flare up in excitement. He's not at all worried about Yzak taking a bite out of him, frankly.... He doesn't mean for this kiss to last too long, anyway. Long enough to shut Yzak up, and long enough to trace those sharp new fangs of his with his tongue. That's all. While they're locked together, he brings a hand up to cup the reluctant vampire's chin, gentle but firm, conveying that he's not completely throwing caution to the wind here.
Then they part. Yzak splutters, and despite the fact that he didn't exactly pull that stunt as a joke, Dearka snorts, and laughs. He gives Yzak a razor sharp grin in reply, allowing himself to be pushed away easily. He feels alive and overjoyed, contrary to Yzak's primary concern against them swapping spit.]
Yeah, I did say that, and we will. But think about it: if your spit WAS toxic to me, that would absolutely suck, y'know? [For a lot of different reasons.] So I decided to take the initiative and test things out, instead of wasting more time quibbling about it. That way if it DID kill me, at least I knew I'd go out doing what I love.
[He winks, and smirks obnoxiously, tail wagging behind him.]
That's the most ridiculous explanation I've ever heard!
[ And yet, the way Dearka can so easily just talk like that with that grin on his (weird hairy dog) face and without so much of a stutter or a shred of awkwardness; going out doing what he loved... ugh. it's enviable because those sentiments are tougher for Yzak to put out there. Enviable, and mentally Yzak attaches to those words because sometimes he wonders if Dearka realizes just how powerful remarks like that are, driving straight into his heart whether they have a playful, flirty edge to them or not.
Now that there's a small distance between them, he can really feel that lack of warmth so much prominently. ]
Really, talking so nonchalantly about dying like that...! [ He lets out one of those growly, overdramatic sighs, the sort he makes when he's shaking something off. Because it didn't happen, it's fine, and he wishes to keep his sights on the issues directly in front of them. ] It might well have happened if you'd kept that up for much longer. [ His eyes flick up under his bangs to look at him with the seriousness his tone takes on, the suggestiveness in them clear enough about what sort of urges passed in that moment. He holds Dearka's gaze, letting that shift back to more dire matters set in. ]
Let's do this, then. But on one condition.
[ He still feels the phantom touch of Dearkas hand to his chin, gentle but holding back a much stronger potential. Which is exactly where this thought sprouts from. ]
If I start doing anything weird or off, [ Anything they've spoken of; a loss of control, a step into danger or some life-threatening frenzy; Yzak says that with a heavy emphasis on the trust he has in Dearka to make a call of what and where that line is. ] then you stop it. Even if you need to break my jaw to do it.
[Despite his jokey attitude of a few moments ago, Dearka is listening and taking this very seriously. He doesn't look particularly pleased to be given an order of that nature (seriously? You want him to bust up your BEAUTIFUL FACE???), but. He also isn't saying 'no'.]
Eghh... I'd really prefer to do this without having to resort to such drastic measures, you know... But. [He sighs.] Yes sir, commander sir... Understood.
[Leaning back in, he takes ahold of Yzak's chin in one hand again, gently brushing his thumb along the jawbone in question. Their eyes lock. He murmurs a simple question:]
[ The look Yzak gives him at that first statement, one corner of his mouth slightly pulled up says it all; that goes without saying. Because he shares the same sentiment, he would also like his (beautiful) face to remain completely intact, here. However, as a soldier, he knows full well that he puts his entire self on the line, body and soul - emphasis on body in this case. And always in that mindset, for the sake of something important he doesn't second guess it, prepare to give what he must.
Dearka's heartbeat is like a drum in his ears, quick and rhythmic and drawing him in as if trying to put him under a spell. Feeling those fingers on his skin again, he glances down where he just makes out the tip of Dearka's thumb. ]
You're the one with the claws. [ Still holding onto his other wrist, he tugs to bring his hand in, turning it so it's facing palm up. ] Just don't overdo it— something small.
[ He stares at those veins on his wrist, unaware of the way his eyes dilate and his wings twitch, like a predator preparing to pounce. Because despite his great stubborn ability to fight it, fuck, he's so hungry. ]
[What's that thing they say about there being a thin line between fear and attraction...? Or something like that, anyway? The specifics don't matter, just the general idea is correct here. Dearka is watching the unfamiliar little predatory twitches and quirks that Yzak is displaying, and stirs up a very odd mix of emotions. It's sort of gratifying, to be wanted in such a desperate way; to have something that someone craves so badly, and to be able to provide it. But it also causes him pain to see this person he loves having to fight so desperately against such unnatural instincts.
Frowning, Dearka nods in affirmation.]
Alright. Let me see...
[Yzak's the genius when it comes to close quarters and hand to hand combat, but Dearka's obviously no slouch at it either. At the very least, he knows exactly where to avoid cutting, provided he doesn't want to cause a huge mess and possibly bleed out all over the place. He lets go of Yzak's chin and hovers hand over wrist for a moment, considering his options carefully.
Don't worry, partner... I'll make sure you're back in control soon enough.
He presses the point of a claw to his skin and draws a quick line without hesitation, grimacing only slightly from the pain. Immediately, bright red blood starts to well up along the cut.]
[ At least it's fitting, that Dearka is the one here providing the satisfaction that Yzak seeks, even if these wants disgust him and he wishes he could rip it all out of himself somehow. Because truly, he provides enough for Yzak already - usually more than needed, more that requested; sometimes, when Yzak lets his mind wander, perhaps more than he deserves. Support on the battlefield. Support as his right hand on the Jule Team (a job that comes with as much extra work as it does perks, when he occasionally has to translate and play the 'good cop' in some cases). Friendship off of the battlefield. An offered extra set of shoulders to burden the sins they share between one another when they become too heavy. Serving as an anchor so Yzak doesn't drift too far into work or his own overactive mind. Support and patience and a hard kick in his often stupid ass if needed. Needed a little more often in recent times when Dearka provided yet something else to him; acceptance and reciprocation of the feelings for him that had stewed in Yzak's heart and were pulled into the light when he'd thought they could remain safely and unpainfully tucked way when he had to cut them away and bury them once before. And let's be real, those were and probably often still are pretty messy feelings to deal with due to Yzak being Yzak. (but you try having ezalia as a mother and the burden of duty shoved onto you when your brain is already extremely hardwired into putting duty above even your own wants)
But there would be nobody else Yzak would want or trust enough in a position like this. Much less one that feels so vulnerable - because to him this feels like weakness, embarrassing, and it's about to get worse for him when Dearka cuts into his skin enough to draw blood. Because Yzak reacts nearly immediately. Dearka will feel the way that hand squeezes at his arm just under his wrist, his whole body tensing up for a fleeting second in some attempt to ensure he still has the ability to exert even a little control before he simply can't take it anymore. He leans down while lifting his wrist to his mouth with an iron grip and an uncharacteristicly wild desperation. The moment he feels the warmth of Dearka's blood touch his lips it's as though everything else around him simply doesn't exist anymore, because finally, finally he can quench this thirst. With a low, pleased groan in his throat, he tilts his head and parts his lips, sucking at the fresh wound to better draw the blood from it. ]
[There are a lot of things Dearka could say in response to all that, if Yzak were ever able to actually voice his feelings aloud without imploding. Not that Dearka would ever expect or demand that he do so; he knows how he is. He doesn't need him to voice appreciation like that, because he already trusts that it's there in all the unspoken words between them. Dearka is one of the few who understands just how deeply and fiercely this man cares, who truly knows how big and sensitive his heart really is underneath all the temper and bluster. For whatever reason, it's something he loves about him.
In any case, the truth is this: the majority of those points listed? Those are things that Yzak also does for Dearka in turn. That's why they work so well together; they balance one another, support one another. Dearka has plenty of his own shortcomings and he knows it, but in Yzak, he knows he has a fierce and loyal friend can and has literally put his life on the line for him. Maybe that's part of why he's so nonchalant about offering up his blood; he already knows Yzak would fight tooth and nail against any instinct to hurt him, with every fiber of his being.
That's... Also probably kind of why he's actually caught a bit off-guard by the speed and intensity with which Yzak moves in on him. The man's like a parched traveler who's been stranded in the desert, spotting water for the first time in days. It really drives home just how unbearable that hunger of his must have been to deal with, Dearka supposes...
Although on a related note: he's also not expecting Yzak's mouth to be so goddamn cold? He lets out a small shocked noise on contact, his hand tensing reflexively in Yzak's iron grip, a shiver running up his spine. What the actual fuck!? He is VERY WELL ACQUAINTED with what Yzak's mouth usually feels like against his skin, OK, and this is like goddamn ice by comparison.
At least Dearka's not the type to let something so minor dissuade him from providing this service. He gets over it quickly enough, settling back down and focusing in on monitoring Yzak's behavior like he was commanded to. Which is... Hmm.
Maybe his mind is just in the gutter, but... He can feel his cheeks growing hot from watching this. Looking down on Yzak while he sucks diligently at a part of his anatomy...? It's not that much of a stretch. Dearka feels a fluttering in the pit of his stomach, a deep desire fueled to greater heights by his own as of yet unattended monstrous instincts. He grits his fangs. Come on.... Focus, god dammit...!
With a shaky exhale, Dearka takes his free hand and reaches around to thread his fingers through Yzak's silky silver hair, stroking at it gently.]
There you go... Just take what you need...
[This isn't just a gesture of affection. This way, he's also positioned to yank the vampire back by the hair, should things start to look dicey...]
[ That icy feeling will melt away in due time - not just his mouth, but his touch and even to an extent, his pallor, once he's sated and properly upright again instead of hunched over like a starving animal devouring what he can like his life depends on it. (and, well, it actually kinda does) The more he drinks, the better, and warmer he'll feel - once awareness of those sensations truly reach him, that is. Right now, most of his senses are at the edges of his consciousness because this immediate gratification is that all-encompassing. True to his word and to Dearka's trust, however, part of his mind fights to remain at least as a whisper to call to him, to keep repeating to not lose himself to the feeling, to not escalate, to not hurt. (hurt, in that he is well aware that even without these changes to their physical and mental states, Dearka is as strong as him and can take a hell of a lot before he can actually be considered hurt)
As it happens, the offering Dearka gives is good - it's great, beyond great to Yzak in this moment. But the cut is perhaps a little too shallow, at least for the fervor with which Yzak drinks the blood from it. He presses his tongue flat against where he draws in an attempt to get more, just a little more. And like this Dearka's heartbeat might as well be his own with how loudly it pounds in his ears; from the contact, from his partner's rising excitement that challenges the heights Yzak's is at right now.
Feeling those fingers in his hair is a comfort that breaks through that hunger enough to appreciate, and to assure him that it's still okay. It's still okay, right? He doesn't feel any grip from that hand, doesn't feel any signal of resistance or warning. And Dearka's fingertips against his scalp feel like electricity that pulses straight through his body. Yzak pauses, just barely pulling his mouth away from skin to pull in a breath...
And without realizing it himself immediately, he grows impatient from that slightly-too-slow flow of blood, and when he returns to feeding he brings his fangs into it, biting down over the thin cut already there and puncturing the skin to better drain it. A second stroke of luck is that the fangs do not poison or paralyze! Whether that means they can't at all or Yzak is subconsciously focused on not doing that to Dearka so hard that he holds some control over it remains to be seen. With better access, he takes a couple of hearty gulps and while the bite might be a little alarming, it thankfully remains as such; a single bite with no sign of any rising ferocity.
Still, though, while Yzak isn't crossed over into any danger zones, he's still in a somewhat precarious place; his mind swimming as if drunk from this nourishment. So he may just need a little, nudge in the right direction lest he does simply keep going. ]
[Dearka's now getting to play a fun new guessing game called: 'Is my head fuzzy because I'm horny for this, or because I just let my vampire boyfriend suck out a bunch of my blood?' You'd think these would be two fairly distinct sensations that one would easily be able to tell the difference between, but he's honestly having a hard time right now.
Those fangs pierce Dearka's skin and he sucks in a sharp breath, fingers twitching involuntarily and tugging slightly against Yzak's scalp. The pain is next to nothing, but for a hot second, his heart leaps in fear, as he's concerned this might be a sign that things are starting to escalate...
Thankfully, that doesn't actually seem to be the case. And when that becomes clear, he relaxes again and goes back to watching the show, enraptured by the very sight. Call him a weirdo, but... He kind of can't help but feel some sort of perverse sense of pride that what he's able to offer up is apparently so goddamn delicious, Yzak can't seem to get enough of it fast enough. It's also good to see some color returning to his cheeks, and to feel the warmth returning to his mouth.
Interestingly... The ambient thrum of energy that Dearka's been feeling this whole time-- what's been fueling that instinct to burst outside and just go ham doing werewolf things-- seems to be lessening gradually with each drop of blood Yzak takes. Which is actually another part of what Dearka was hoping for when he suggested they try this. It's hard to be rowdy and restless when you've just lost a bunch of blood, after all. Question is: is that energy really gone...? Or has Dearka just found something specific to focus that energy on? Some base desire that he can see himself fulfilling, right here, in the very near future...?
...When he's given close to what he thinks he can safely give, he tries to rouse Yzak from his feeding frenzy. Gently, at first...]
Yzak... Yzak!
[Damn. Is he even listening? He's clearly not attacking, or even really escalating things... But he's not stopping, either. Those eyes are still full of predatory instinct, even if they look close to sated... And that busy little mouth of his still suckles urgently at Dearka's torn flesh. Dearka sighs, scowling to himself, and takes his opportunity to escalate instead. He curls his fingers, gathering up a proper fistful of Yzak's hair, and then yanks him backwards with more insistent force. At the same time, he pulls back on his bloodied wrist as well, trying to pull free of Yzak's tight grip.
This might ultimately hurt them both a little bit, but they've also both had worse. Plus, it's still a damn sight better than having to break Yzak's jaw.]
[ Perhaps there's also something to be said for Coordinator blood in general when it comes to how delectable it tastes. Not that Yzak does or would particularly want to shop around and go on any blood-tasting excursions to compare, especially when he's going to feel gross about this in a few short moments. But maybe it's also so savory to Yzak specifically because it's Dearka's and even with all of these changes to him, those feelings in his heart and the way his very being seems to draw toward him magnetically remain the same.
Dearka's voice hits his ears as if muffled, barely heard, but it's not enough so it's a good thing he snaps him out of it physically a moment later. ]
Aah—
[ Yzak's head cranes back and he gasps in a breath, fresh blood on his teeth and his tongue, the corner of his lip. His hold on Dearka's arm remains, but it eases when he pulls it away and his senses slowly return to him now that that obsessive, voracious focus is broken. He looks him in the eye, blinks, and there's for sure a better clarity in Yzak's blue eyes than there was before. Something closer to the norm for him. He looks down at the wrist he just fed on, seeing the two fresh, thin pinpricks that still well slightly with blood. This time, thankfully, he looks on at it and there's not much temptation in his gaze anymore. In fact, he looks a touch confused. ]
I bit you...? [ Half a question, half a realization. ]
Ah... Yeah. [Dearka's not gonna like, try and hide that from him. That'd be stupid. He jerks his shoulders in a slight shrug.] Just that once, though. Don't even worry about it...
[His words sound a bit clipped and breathy, his tone preoccupied, and it's not a huge mystery as to why: He is fully turned on, by this point, and he looks it, too. Yzak can go ahead and call him a freak for it if he wants to; he simply can't help it. That man looks hot with bloodied fangs, and Dea wanna smash.]
[ As ever, he appreciates the truth, even if it makes him grimace considering what it is this time. ] ... at least it didn't do anything to you. [ He mutters, low, accepting that much at least. But he's still clearly not happy! Because that means he didn't have as much control in the moment that he'd have liked!
And poor horny Dearka, because Yzak probably makes it worse with his movements as he shakes himself out of his own trance. He swallows, and then runs his tongue over one fang, across his teeth to the other, savoring what he can of the aftertaste. His brow is furrowed, though, his mind picking up on its usual speed and observation. ]
My head feels so much better. [ There's a good deal of relief in his voice, but it's tinged with a reluctance, as if he doesn't like admitting as much. Because it means he's going to need to do it again. He brings his hand up to the corner of his lip, swiping at the bit of blood there with the back of his finger and sucking it between his lips. The actions are driven by this new instinct so Yzak probably hardly realizes that he's doing it ... or how he looks doing it in front of his freak of a boyfriend. ] I can think clearly now.
[ And a clearer mind means clearer perception that's even better and beyond what he has as a Coordinator. He can still hear Dearka's heart beating in his chest - only now it seems to drown out the others he can sense from outside when someone wanders close enough by. It's as though feeding on him locked Yzak into some hyper specific focus on just him.
And that focus kicks in when he finally shifts his attention directly back on Dearka - and has every intent to use his recovered clarity to better figure out their next steps. Business as always, determination in his eyes.
But then sees the hot and bothered expression on his partner's face and breathlessness in his voice; things Yzak's for sure has become ... well accustomed to, to the point where he pegs it right away now. His face twists, nose crinkling and corners of his lips twitching downward, voice hitching up. ]
[Maybe that bite DID do something to him, actually. Maybe a vampire's fangs deliver some kind of aphrodisiac effect to their victims. That would explain a lot of this, right?
...Or, maybe he's just a horny freak. Who's to say, really?
Dearka sort of grunts and hums along in reply while Yzak talks, his focus mostly diverted to suffering and dying because of the lewd shit Yzak is doing with his fingers. Then he anticipates Yzak's reaction before he even manages to voice it: as soon as he clocks that look of flustered recognition on his face, he jolts up straight, pinning his ears back guiltily.]
H-hey, don't give me that! Put yourself in my shoes, I mean... If you could have seen the things you were doing with your mouth...!
[Growing flustered means he's wolfing out a bit more, gradually gaining more fur coverage.]
[ He brings his hand up to his mouth, thinking back. It was hazier in the moment, Yzak lost in that gratification, but now in recollection it's a little more vivid. It ... makes sense, he supposes, when he puts himself in Dearka's shoes, but then again it doesn't take very much from Dearka to make his heart flutter and send and a jolt of warmth shooting straight down Yzak's body. Sometimes it's even so simple as a brush of his lips against his face, much less the fervent sucking that Yzak himself just did. (and thinking about this all doesn't ease the burning in his cheeks) But that... ]
I was drinking your blood! How the hell is that attractive!? It felt... [ He makes a grumbled noise into his palm. ] sickening. [ There's some shame in his voice now as he goes on to admit what 'sickening' means in this context: ] Because it tasted so good.
We've turned into some kind of monsters here, sure, but it makes me feel like a monster. [ 'Monster', both utterances of the word with two different connotations behind them. And this is from someone who, despite the word being flung at Coordinators from plenty of the more unpleasant Naturals, it having no effect on him. (now, when it came to learning about his accidental war crimes and how he felt about himself... that's a different story) His eyes land on Dearka's chest where his heart beats, but then he witnesses his shift in form in real time. It's like ... one of those chia pet time-lapses but real and thus kind of fucked up? So he stares with an awe. ]
[Dearka closes his eyes and grimaces while Yzak goes off on his explanation, feeling higher-strung and more impatient than usual. He doesn't want to be completely dismissive or unsympathetic, but...]
But this isn't even the first time this place has some kind of weird and unnatural effect on our bodies, right? And besides, I offered--
[He cracks one eye open to keep arguing and defending, but that's when he sees the look of awe on Yzak's face. Confused, he falters, and then the increased scrutiny makes him fluster and begin to transform even more.]
Wh... What!? Why are you looking at me like that!?
It's not, but that doesn't make it any less bullshit. [ And when there is bullshit, Yzak will complain. He'll deal, he'll get through it, he'll advance and find solutions because he can do nothing but, being who he is, but he'll grumble his way though when he hates it.
Having his own scrutinizing pointed out half snaps Yzak out of it. He shakes his head. ]
Because! You're looking more and more... [ He sweeps a hand to gesture at Dearka. ] canine, on the whole subject of 'weird and unnatural effects on our bodies'. Seeing you change back and forth like this is fucking weird!
[ But since they've mentioned those changes, Yzak's expression and tone soften some as he lets out a breath, and the concern in his eyes and voice are a lot sharper now because... he's gotten a better hold on himself, but Dearka and these sudden shifts...? It may even be that his emotions and, physical urges feel so strong because of that energy that he's explained is trying to tear out of him... And he owes it to Dearka to offer him the same sort of support that he just got, if that's the case.
No, not even owe. Yzak wants to help, because he loves him and because his own urges here have been strong and threatening to overwhelm him. And to have someone trusted to aid you through something like that, someone who will no doubt be there when you need support again ... means everything. ]
Do you still feel like you want to jump out of here through a window?
[At the word "canine", Dearka shudders and covers the lower half of his face with one hand, like he's hoping pressing there will be enough to keep his stupid face bones from painfully rearranging themselves and morphing into a literal snout, which is what they seem to want to do at the moment. It's willpower, really, that actually does the trick in keeping that from happening; willpower that's very tenuously held onto, but succeeds nonetheless.
He still keeps his hand on his face, though. At Yzak's question, his ears flatten, and he glances away awkwardly.]
Not... Exactly. But I think that's only because...
[Because there's something more enticing in this room that he'd much rather expend that excess energy on. And normally he wouldn't be at all shy about expressing that desire, but since Yzak seems to be truly put-off by his changes...]
[ Put off or not (but really, it's the rarer occasion that Yzak doesn't look put off by something), it doesn't affect the way he puts his hands on his hips, weight shifting to one leg and giving Dearka that authorative look to compliment his voice. And somehow the way his wings slightly flare outward emphasize that vibe. ]
Out with it, if we want to make it to morning without ending up doing something potentially really stupid or dangerous.
[You know... Dearka is kind of a fucking simp for Yzak just at baseline. So, him getting all stern and authoritative like this, in a context where Dearka was already feeling pretty horny? That really does it for him, just on it's own. Maybe Yzak feeding on him has something to do with how much more intense it feels this time... Maybe he's extra enthralled. Maybe his werewolf emotions are just bigger than what he experiences as a human.
Whatever the true cause is, the main effect is palpable: His pupils dilate, he takes in a shaky breath and shivers, taking on an oddly enraptured expression before blurting out:]
Dammit... Yzak, I... I need you.
[He rasps it hoarsely, sounding far more desperate than he ever typically does during these exchanges, outside of that stage where he's moments from climax. His heart is hammering in his chest, and he fumbles for Yzak's hand, squeezing it and stepping in closer, until their faces are almost touching. His eyes gleam an intense, glittering gold as he stares into Yzak's own.]
I know I must look like shit right now but if I... Don't... Address this somehow, I'm liable to lose my fucking mind. It's like there's something fucking feral inside me and it either needs to hunt or it needs to... Mate...
[That last word. He closes his eyes then and grimaces, sharp fangs showing, as he's fully aware of how disgusting and ridiculous that sounds. He doesn't want to see the reaction on Yzak's face; he can imagine it well enough on his own, thanks.]
[ Dearka please do not come when they have not even started yet. (although that would certainly speedrun the solution to this problem...) The deeply seeded trust that Yzak has in Dearka does not allow him to flinch away when he steps into that small distance between them and gets this close, because if anything his heart always wants to be closer like this. His heart that likewise hammers in his chest - and he really needs to gets used to the fact that he's so attuned to that sort of thing in this form. When he's fed and it's not driving him absolutely crazy, though ... it's ... kind of nice? To be able to sense Dearka's heartbeat, pick up on those subtle changes in how he's feeling based on that. If not for all of these confused and disgusted and desperate feelings, he'd appreciate it a lot more. But right now, the pounding of his heart only emphasizes the urgency in his voice and on his face.
Funny enough, Yzak's expression is more of a taken aback surprise, eyebrows up, eyes unblinking and mouth open in a small "o". How could his expression shift into something of disgust when Dearka started that off with a phrase like I need you. Sure, it's steeped in horny and all of these changes in them right now, but that matters just a little less when those words fall onto Yzak's ears because feeling needed in any capacity has an affect on him who wants to be needed, to be wanted, accepted.
And because moments ago, Yzak needed him just as much. So it's not as though that sensation has fully left him yet, and thus there's empathy in that tug of his heart from those words because Dearka is as abashed as he was in admitting what these changes are making him need. There's also that selfish little part of Yzak that wants that validation that Dearka better at least partially be this horny for him specifically, when he speaks of needing to mate. (and that term makes him inwardly cringe, too, so Dearka isn't alone there) Thankfully it's suppressed by the knowledge and experience of what he just went through moments ago; that wildness he could feel in himself rising and threatening to take control if he wouldn't act. Of course, that selfish part of Yzak likewise screams that he can't let that happen to Dearka ... at least where the mating part is concerned, since HE'D just get really fucking mad about it! Hunting and fighting he could care less for, truthfully, even if he doesn't want Dearka to particularly do that either, when they're both this confused and unstable.
With Dearka this close, those eager yet anxious eyes as golden as his hair and his hand so magnetically warm when he takes Yzak's ... his heart loud and telling as it hastens, it wears at the rigidity this whole thing has caused him to have and he wants to help him, now, too. He can't deny that there's also a draw partially due to how good he tasted and how it probably works out because when he hungers again, he's going to have a preference and wants to keep Dearka close for that. He won't deny that in a way Dearka is right, he still does clock as weird-looking to Yzak and maybe kissing him if those canine start to more heavily kick back in is going to be a little awkward and something to get used to...
His eyes move to his fingers as they twitch, before they bend and clasp back around Dearka's hand. The wound on his wrist is still present and Noticed and tempting, but he's fine for now to keep it down. He looks back to his (poor horny) partner's face, his other hand coming up to the opposite side of it to gently urge him to turn back to him. His own expression is a more mellowed now, concerned. And very flushed, his lips in that awkward sort of not-exactly-frown when he's trying to NOT look how he looks and fails spectacularly because he is very uncool. ]
Good thing I don't want you around because of how you look, then. [ A beat, and he tips his head, one end of his mouth twitching upward slightly. ] ...Even though it's a definite perk.
[HE'S NOT GOING TO COME RIGHT HERE, HE'S JUST!!!! REALLY RILED UP, OKAY,,,
When Yzak's fingers cup Dearka's cheek, they brush over coarse, scruffy fur. Dearka lets out half a breath and resigns himself to the other man's urging, reluctantly looking back up into his partner's eyes.
His admission just before was so much more raw and vulnerable than he typically allows himself to come off as, and he's immediately feeling pretty embarrassed and irritated about it... Even though there's no one else in the universe he'd trust more with his true heart than Yzak. It's simply becoming more and more clear to him, that these changes are making him a LOT more emotionally volatile than usual, and he doesn't feel like his typical level-headed self as a result! He feels like a goddamn alien in his own body, and in this agitated state of mind, he's convinced himself that surely Yzak will only see him as a stranger this way...
...It's an immense relief then, when he sees only concern and empathy looking back at him. Concern, empathy... And a tiny bit of amusement.
Dearka actually lets out a laugh, one which, again, sounds even more bark-like than usual, his sharp teeth flashing in a relieved, razor-keen grin. Just having Yzak's verbal acceptance is enough to give him a good chunk of his confidence back; his tail starts wagging again, and he gently bonks their foreheads together, slipping his other hand around Yzak's middle and drawing him in so their hips are basically flush, too.]
Well. Maybe this fucked up body of mine has some new perks it can provide in exchange.
[He's not actually sure what the fuck he even means by that. Like, what, maybe it made his dick bigger? Stupid. Whatever. It just felt like an apt response, for some reason, he's not going to think about it too hard. One thing Yzak will definitely feel, the more they're in contact with each other, is just how much Dearka is holding back. There's an undeniable energy within him that he's struggling to contain. It's present in the almost imperceptible trembling of his hands, in the tension in his jaw. He lets out a shaky breath, giving Yzak's hand a squeeze.]
...But I'll need you to keep me in check. Commander.
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But the reality of the idea isn't nearly as bad as the initial image it invokes, especially not when Dearka sounds like he intends to be careful. Something small and painless to test the waters, because Yzak isn't even sure what a minute amount of blood is going to do to him, when he can hardly stand things as they are now.
He still has reservations, but he clearly untenses some, his wings folding in more and moving less erratically. Whether Dearka intends to look loomy or not, Yzak doesn't regard him with any sort of fear when he stares, head tipping slightly as he considers whether or not he wants to do this.
The wave of need that courses through him in that moment pushes him a little harder toward his answer. The answer Yzak wishes to choose because if it can help and put his mind in a clearer place, at least until morning, that will be a very good thing. The answer that hunger wants, which is a greedy, near lustful yes. That sensation though, feels a bit like nausea so he brings his hand up loosely to his mouth again, pulling in a deep breath through his nose. He exhales against his own palm with a muttered: ]
I do feel ... like I'm so god damned hungry...
[ Yzak swallows thick, and in his eyes it looks as though he's prepared to say yes. But before he does, he feels the need to add: ]
Variations in Greek legends say it can just as easily be saliva that does something like that. Not just fangs—
i don't have any smooching icons so you get this,
But just when it seems like he's going to get that 'yes' after all, Yzak starts fretting some more about Greek mythology or something. Dearka, whose ears had been pricked up excitedly for a moment, sighs, closes his eyes... Rubs his forehead for a moment... Lets Yzak continue without really listening...
...Until he can't deal the inaction anymore.
That's when he walks up, pushes Yzak's hand out of the way, and swoops in to shut him up with a kiss. If he's calculating right, hopefully he'll catch him with his mouth already open so he can slip him some tongue all the more easily :/]
this, what this man is attracted to... also 1/2
Yzak perks up when Dearka closes the distance between them, cautious because how else could he be at a sudden movement in such a precariously mysterious time? But when he grabs his hand and leans in to kiss him, that already electric tension sparks even stronger. A common feeling of his regardless, because in reality every time he kisses Dearka he feels that - the flip his heart always makes, the way he feels every nerve in his body light up like something new is awakening in him - and it's a feeling that hasn't waned even if it's come to be something so familiar to him. (but also let's be real yzak is the one who's going to be 15 years into a marriage and still blushing when his feelings get too intense) A noise of surprise gets muffled in his throat as that hand pushed away grips at Dearka's wrist. For what feels like a very long moment, everything in Yzak's body language, including the way his wings perk straight up behind him, is rigid...
Until it can't help but erode when the kiss is held for a beat, two beats, and maybe it's because of the way his own body's changed, but the warmth of his tongue and the slightly different feeling Dearka's mouth feels against his with his own changes are little details he picks up on so much more easier right now. For that moment, it feels ... nice, as it always does, and oh that it could remain that way because how Yzak would love just let himself melt into it more than he's already begun to.
But he realizes how easily he could bite down on Dearka's tongue. On his lips. How easily he could tear into him and how part of him desperately wants to. And this close where he can feel Dearka's heartbeat as loudly as he can his own is near deafening and dangerous and— ]
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W-weren't we going about this carefully!?
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Then they part. Yzak splutters, and despite the fact that he didn't exactly pull that stunt as a joke, Dearka snorts, and laughs. He gives Yzak a razor sharp grin in reply, allowing himself to be pushed away easily. He feels alive and overjoyed, contrary to Yzak's primary concern against them swapping spit.]
Yeah, I did say that, and we will. But think about it: if your spit WAS toxic to me, that would absolutely suck, y'know? [For a lot of different reasons.] So I decided to take the initiative and test things out, instead of wasting more time quibbling about it. That way if it DID kill me, at least I knew I'd go out doing what I love.
[He winks, and smirks obnoxiously, tail wagging behind him.]
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[ And yet, the way Dearka can so easily just talk like that with that grin on his (weird hairy dog) face and without so much of a stutter or a shred of awkwardness; going out doing what he loved... ugh. it's enviable because those sentiments are tougher for Yzak to put out there. Enviable, and mentally Yzak attaches to those words because sometimes he wonders if Dearka realizes just how powerful remarks like that are, driving straight into his heart whether they have a playful, flirty edge to them or not.
Now that there's a small distance between them, he can really feel that lack of warmth so much prominently. ]
Really, talking so nonchalantly about dying like that...! [ He lets out one of those growly, overdramatic sighs, the sort he makes when he's shaking something off. Because it didn't happen, it's fine, and he wishes to keep his sights on the issues directly in front of them. ] It might well have happened if you'd kept that up for much longer. [ His eyes flick up under his bangs to look at him with the seriousness his tone takes on, the suggestiveness in them clear enough about what sort of urges passed in that moment. He holds Dearka's gaze, letting that shift back to more dire matters set in. ]
Let's do this, then. But on one condition.
[ He still feels the phantom touch of Dearkas hand to his chin, gentle but holding back a much stronger potential. Which is exactly where this thought sprouts from. ]
If I start doing anything weird or off, [ Anything they've spoken of; a loss of control, a step into danger or some life-threatening frenzy; Yzak says that with a heavy emphasis on the trust he has in Dearka to make a call of what and where that line is. ] then you stop it. Even if you need to break my jaw to do it.
That is an order.
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Eghh... I'd really prefer to do this without having to resort to such drastic measures, you know... But. [He sighs.] Yes sir, commander sir... Understood.
[Leaning back in, he takes ahold of Yzak's chin in one hand again, gently brushing his thumb along the jawbone in question. Their eyes lock. He murmurs a simple question:]
Now... Where do you want to begin?
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Dearka's heartbeat is like a drum in his ears, quick and rhythmic and drawing him in as if trying to put him under a spell. Feeling those fingers on his skin again, he glances down where he just makes out the tip of Dearka's thumb. ]
You're the one with the claws. [ Still holding onto his other wrist, he tugs to bring his hand in, turning it so it's facing palm up. ] Just don't overdo it— something small.
[ He stares at those veins on his wrist, unaware of the way his eyes dilate and his wings twitch, like a predator preparing to pounce. Because despite his great stubborn ability to fight it, fuck, he's so hungry. ]
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Frowning, Dearka nods in affirmation.]
Alright. Let me see...
[Yzak's the genius when it comes to close quarters and hand to hand combat, but Dearka's obviously no slouch at it either. At the very least, he knows exactly where to avoid cutting, provided he doesn't want to cause a huge mess and possibly bleed out all over the place. He lets go of Yzak's chin and hovers hand over wrist for a moment, considering his options carefully.
Don't worry, partner... I'll make sure you're back in control soon enough.
He presses the point of a claw to his skin and draws a quick line without hesitation, grimacing only slightly from the pain. Immediately, bright red blood starts to well up along the cut.]
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But there would be nobody else Yzak would want or trust enough in a position like this. Much less one that feels so vulnerable - because to him this feels like weakness, embarrassing, and it's about to get worse for him when Dearka cuts into his skin enough to draw blood. Because Yzak reacts nearly immediately. Dearka will feel the way that hand squeezes at his arm just under his wrist, his whole body tensing up for a fleeting second in some attempt to ensure he still has the ability to exert even a little control before he simply can't take it anymore. He leans down while lifting his wrist to his mouth with an iron grip and an uncharacteristicly wild desperation. The moment he feels the warmth of Dearka's blood touch his lips it's as though everything else around him simply doesn't exist anymore, because finally, finally he can quench this thirst. With a low, pleased groan in his throat, he tilts his head and parts his lips, sucking at the fresh wound to better draw the blood from it. ]
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In any case, the truth is this: the majority of those points listed? Those are things that Yzak also does for Dearka in turn. That's why they work so well together; they balance one another, support one another. Dearka has plenty of his own shortcomings and he knows it, but in Yzak, he knows he has a fierce and loyal friend can and has literally put his life on the line for him. Maybe that's part of why he's so nonchalant about offering up his blood; he already knows Yzak would fight tooth and nail against any instinct to hurt him, with every fiber of his being.
That's... Also probably kind of why he's actually caught a bit off-guard by the speed and intensity with which Yzak moves in on him. The man's like a parched traveler who's been stranded in the desert, spotting water for the first time in days. It really drives home just how unbearable that hunger of his must have been to deal with, Dearka supposes...
Although on a related note: he's also not expecting Yzak's mouth to be so goddamn cold? He lets out a small shocked noise on contact, his hand tensing reflexively in Yzak's iron grip, a shiver running up his spine. What the actual fuck!? He is VERY WELL ACQUAINTED with what Yzak's mouth usually feels like against his skin, OK, and this is like goddamn ice by comparison.
At least Dearka's not the type to let something so minor dissuade him from providing this service. He gets over it quickly enough, settling back down and focusing in on monitoring Yzak's behavior like he was commanded to. Which is... Hmm.
Maybe his mind is just in the gutter, but... He can feel his cheeks growing hot from watching this. Looking down on Yzak while he sucks diligently at a part of his anatomy...? It's not that much of a stretch. Dearka feels a fluttering in the pit of his stomach, a deep desire fueled to greater heights by his own as of yet unattended monstrous instincts. He grits his fangs. Come on.... Focus, god dammit...!
With a shaky exhale, Dearka takes his free hand and reaches around to thread his fingers through Yzak's silky silver hair, stroking at it gently.]
There you go... Just take what you need...
[This isn't just a gesture of affection. This way, he's also positioned to yank the vampire back by the hair, should things start to look dicey...]
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As it happens, the offering Dearka gives is good - it's great, beyond great to Yzak in this moment. But the cut is perhaps a little too shallow, at least for the fervor with which Yzak drinks the blood from it. He presses his tongue flat against where he draws in an attempt to get more, just a little more. And like this Dearka's heartbeat might as well be his own with how loudly it pounds in his ears; from the contact, from his partner's rising excitement that challenges the heights Yzak's is at right now.
Feeling those fingers in his hair is a comfort that breaks through that hunger enough to appreciate, and to assure him that it's still okay. It's still okay, right? He doesn't feel any grip from that hand, doesn't feel any signal of resistance or warning. And Dearka's fingertips against his scalp feel like electricity that pulses straight through his body. Yzak pauses, just barely pulling his mouth away from skin to pull in a breath...
And without realizing it himself immediately, he grows impatient from that slightly-too-slow flow of blood, and when he returns to feeding he brings his fangs into it, biting down over the thin cut already there and puncturing the skin to better drain it. A second stroke of luck is that the fangs do not poison or paralyze! Whether that means they can't at all or Yzak is subconsciously focused on not doing that to Dearka so hard that he holds some control over it remains to be seen. With better access, he takes a couple of hearty gulps and while the bite might be a little alarming, it thankfully remains as such; a single bite with no sign of any rising ferocity.
Still, though, while Yzak isn't crossed over into any danger zones, he's still in a somewhat precarious place; his mind swimming as if drunk from this nourishment. So he may just need a little, nudge in the right direction lest he does simply keep going. ]
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Those fangs pierce Dearka's skin and he sucks in a sharp breath, fingers twitching involuntarily and tugging slightly against Yzak's scalp. The pain is next to nothing, but for a hot second, his heart leaps in fear, as he's concerned this might be a sign that things are starting to escalate...
Thankfully, that doesn't actually seem to be the case. And when that becomes clear, he relaxes again and goes back to watching the show, enraptured by the very sight. Call him a weirdo, but... He kind of can't help but feel some sort of perverse sense of pride that what he's able to offer up is apparently so goddamn delicious, Yzak can't seem to get enough of it fast enough. It's also good to see some color returning to his cheeks, and to feel the warmth returning to his mouth.
Interestingly... The ambient thrum of energy that Dearka's been feeling this whole time-- what's been fueling that instinct to burst outside and just go ham doing werewolf things-- seems to be lessening gradually with each drop of blood Yzak takes. Which is actually another part of what Dearka was hoping for when he suggested they try this. It's hard to be rowdy and restless when you've just lost a bunch of blood, after all. Question is: is that energy really gone...? Or has Dearka just found something specific to focus that energy on? Some base desire that he can see himself fulfilling, right here, in the very near future...?
...When he's given close to what he thinks he can safely give, he tries to rouse Yzak from his feeding frenzy. Gently, at first...]
Yzak... Yzak!
[Damn. Is he even listening? He's clearly not attacking, or even really escalating things... But he's not stopping, either. Those eyes are still full of predatory instinct, even if they look close to sated... And that busy little mouth of his still suckles urgently at Dearka's torn flesh. Dearka sighs, scowling to himself, and takes his opportunity to escalate instead. He curls his fingers, gathering up a proper fistful of Yzak's hair, and then yanks him backwards with more insistent force. At the same time, he pulls back on his bloodied wrist as well, trying to pull free of Yzak's tight grip.
This might ultimately hurt them both a little bit, but they've also both had worse. Plus, it's still a damn sight better than having to break Yzak's jaw.]
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Dearka's voice hits his ears as if muffled, barely heard, but it's not enough so it's a good thing he snaps him out of it physically a moment later. ]
Aah—
[ Yzak's head cranes back and he gasps in a breath, fresh blood on his teeth and his tongue, the corner of his lip. His hold on Dearka's arm remains, but it eases when he pulls it away and his senses slowly return to him now that that obsessive, voracious focus is broken. He looks him in the eye, blinks, and there's for sure a better clarity in Yzak's blue eyes than there was before. Something closer to the norm for him. He looks down at the wrist he just fed on, seeing the two fresh, thin pinpricks that still well slightly with blood. This time, thankfully, he looks on at it and there's not much temptation in his gaze anymore. In fact, he looks a touch confused. ]
I bit you...? [ Half a question, half a realization. ]
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[His words sound a bit clipped and breathy, his tone preoccupied, and it's not a huge mystery as to why: He is fully turned on, by this point, and he looks it, too. Yzak can go ahead and call him a freak for it if he wants to; he simply can't help it. That man looks hot with bloodied fangs, and Dea wanna smash.]
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And poor horny Dearka, because Yzak probably makes it worse with his movements as he shakes himself out of his own trance. He swallows, and then runs his tongue over one fang, across his teeth to the other, savoring what he can of the aftertaste. His brow is furrowed, though, his mind picking up on its usual speed and observation. ]
My head feels so much better. [ There's a good deal of relief in his voice, but it's tinged with a reluctance, as if he doesn't like admitting as much. Because it means he's going to need to do it again. He brings his hand up to the corner of his lip, swiping at the bit of blood there with the back of his finger and sucking it between his lips. The actions are driven by this new instinct so Yzak probably hardly realizes that he's doing it ... or how he looks doing it in front of his freak of a boyfriend. ] I can think clearly now.
[ And a clearer mind means clearer perception that's even better and beyond what he has as a Coordinator. He can still hear Dearka's heart beating in his chest - only now it seems to drown out the others he can sense from outside when someone wanders close enough by. It's as though feeding on him locked Yzak into some hyper specific focus on just him.
And that focus kicks in when he finally shifts his attention directly back on Dearka - and has every intent to use his recovered clarity to better figure out their next steps. Business as always, determination in his eyes.
But then sees the hot and bothered expression on his partner's face and breathlessness in his voice; things Yzak's for sure has become ... well accustomed to, to the point where he pegs it right away now. His face twists, nose crinkling and corners of his lips twitching downward, voice hitching up. ]
You - don't tell me you liked that!
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...Or, maybe he's just a horny freak. Who's to say, really?
Dearka sort of grunts and hums along in reply while Yzak talks, his focus mostly diverted to suffering and dying because of the lewd shit Yzak is doing with his fingers. Then he anticipates Yzak's reaction before he even manages to voice it: as soon as he clocks that look of flustered recognition on his face, he jolts up straight, pinning his ears back guiltily.]
H-hey, don't give me that! Put yourself in my shoes, I mean... If you could have seen the things you were doing with your mouth...!
[Growing flustered means he's wolfing out a bit more, gradually gaining more fur coverage.]
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[ He brings his hand up to his mouth, thinking back. It was hazier in the moment, Yzak lost in that gratification, but now in recollection it's a little more vivid. It ... makes sense, he supposes, when he puts himself in Dearka's shoes, but then again it doesn't take very much from Dearka to make his heart flutter and send and a jolt of warmth shooting straight down Yzak's body. Sometimes it's even so simple as a brush of his lips against his face, much less the fervent sucking that Yzak himself just did. (and thinking about this all doesn't ease the burning in his cheeks) But that... ]
I was drinking your blood! How the hell is that attractive!? It felt... [ He makes a grumbled noise into his palm. ] sickening. [ There's some shame in his voice now as he goes on to admit what 'sickening' means in this context: ] Because it tasted so good.
We've turned into some kind of monsters here, sure, but it makes me feel like a monster. [ 'Monster', both utterances of the word with two different connotations behind them. And this is from someone who, despite the word being flung at Coordinators from plenty of the more unpleasant Naturals, it having no effect on him. (now, when it came to learning about his accidental war crimes and how he felt about himself... that's a different story) His eyes land on Dearka's chest where his heart beats, but then he witnesses his shift in form in real time. It's like ... one of those chia pet time-lapses but real and thus kind of fucked up? So he stares with an awe. ]
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But this isn't even the first time this place has some kind of weird and unnatural effect on our bodies, right? And besides, I offered--
[He cracks one eye open to keep arguing and defending, but that's when he sees the look of awe on Yzak's face. Confused, he falters, and then the increased scrutiny makes him fluster and begin to transform even more.]
Wh... What!? Why are you looking at me like that!?
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Having his own scrutinizing pointed out half snaps Yzak out of it. He shakes his head. ]
Because! You're looking more and more... [ He sweeps a hand to gesture at Dearka. ] canine, on the whole subject of 'weird and unnatural effects on our bodies'. Seeing you change back and forth like this is fucking weird!
[ But since they've mentioned those changes, Yzak's expression and tone soften some as he lets out a breath, and the concern in his eyes and voice are a lot sharper now because... he's gotten a better hold on himself, but Dearka and these sudden shifts...? It may even be that his emotions and, physical urges feel so strong because of that energy that he's explained is trying to tear out of him... And he owes it to Dearka to offer him the same sort of support that he just got, if that's the case.
No, not even owe. Yzak wants to help, because he loves him and because his own urges here have been strong and threatening to overwhelm him. And to have someone trusted to aid you through something like that, someone who will no doubt be there when you need support again ... means everything. ]
Do you still feel like you want to jump out of here through a window?
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He still keeps his hand on his face, though. At Yzak's question, his ears flatten, and he glances away awkwardly.]
Not... Exactly. But I think that's only because...
[Because there's something more enticing in this room that he'd much rather expend that excess energy on. And normally he wouldn't be at all shy about expressing that desire, but since Yzak seems to be truly put-off by his changes...]
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[ Put off or not (but really, it's the rarer occasion that Yzak doesn't look put off by something), it doesn't affect the way he puts his hands on his hips, weight shifting to one leg and giving Dearka that authorative look to compliment his voice. And somehow the way his wings slightly flare outward emphasize that vibe. ]
Out with it, if we want to make it to morning without ending up doing something potentially really stupid or dangerous.
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Whatever the true cause is, the main effect is palpable: His pupils dilate, he takes in a shaky breath and shivers, taking on an oddly enraptured expression before blurting out:]
Dammit... Yzak, I... I need you.
[He rasps it hoarsely, sounding far more desperate than he ever typically does during these exchanges, outside of that stage where he's moments from climax. His heart is hammering in his chest, and he fumbles for Yzak's hand, squeezing it and stepping in closer, until their faces are almost touching. His eyes gleam an intense, glittering gold as he stares into Yzak's own.]
I know I must look like shit right now but if I... Don't... Address this somehow, I'm liable to lose my fucking mind. It's like there's something fucking feral inside me and it either needs to hunt or it needs to... Mate...
[That last word. He closes his eyes then and grimaces, sharp fangs showing, as he's fully aware of how disgusting and ridiculous that sounds. He doesn't want to see the reaction on Yzak's face; he can imagine it well enough on his own, thanks.]
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Funny enough, Yzak's expression is more of a taken aback surprise, eyebrows up, eyes unblinking and mouth open in a small "o". How could his expression shift into something of disgust when Dearka started that off with a phrase like I need you. Sure, it's steeped in horny and all of these changes in them right now, but that matters just a little less when those words fall onto Yzak's ears because feeling needed in any capacity has an affect on him who wants to be needed, to be wanted, accepted.
And because moments ago, Yzak needed him just as much. So it's not as though that sensation has fully left him yet, and thus there's empathy in that tug of his heart from those words because Dearka is as abashed as he was in admitting what these changes are making him need. There's also that selfish little part of Yzak that wants that validation that Dearka better at least partially be this horny for him specifically, when he speaks of needing to mate. (and that term makes him inwardly cringe, too, so Dearka isn't alone there) Thankfully it's suppressed by the knowledge and experience of what he just went through moments ago; that wildness he could feel in himself rising and threatening to take control if he wouldn't act. Of course, that selfish part of Yzak likewise screams that he can't let that happen to Dearka ... at least where the mating part is concerned, since HE'D just get really fucking mad about it! Hunting and fighting he could care less for, truthfully, even if he doesn't want Dearka to particularly do that either, when they're both this confused and unstable.
With Dearka this close, those eager yet anxious eyes as golden as his hair and his hand so magnetically warm when he takes Yzak's ... his heart loud and telling as it hastens, it wears at the rigidity this whole thing has caused him to have and he wants to help him, now, too. He can't deny that there's also a draw partially due to how good he tasted and how it probably works out because when he hungers again, he's going to have a preference and wants to keep Dearka close for that. He won't deny that in a way Dearka is right, he still does clock as weird-looking to Yzak and maybe kissing him if those canine start to more heavily kick back in is going to be a little awkward and something to get used to...
His eyes move to his fingers as they twitch, before they bend and clasp back around Dearka's hand. The wound on his wrist is still present and Noticed and tempting, but he's fine for now to keep it down. He looks back to his (poor horny) partner's face, his other hand coming up to the opposite side of it to gently urge him to turn back to him. His own expression is a more mellowed now, concerned. And very flushed, his lips in that awkward sort of not-exactly-frown when he's trying to NOT look how he looks and fails spectacularly because he is very uncool. ]
Good thing I don't want you around because of how you look, then. [ A beat, and he tips his head, one end of his mouth twitching upward slightly. ] ...Even though it's a definite perk.
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HE'S NOT GOING TO COME RIGHT HERE, HE'S JUST!!!! REALLY RILED UP, OKAY,,,When Yzak's fingers cup Dearka's cheek, they brush over coarse, scruffy fur. Dearka lets out half a breath and resigns himself to the other man's urging, reluctantly looking back up into his partner's eyes.
His admission just before was so much more raw and vulnerable than he typically allows himself to come off as, and he's immediately feeling pretty embarrassed and irritated about it... Even though there's no one else in the universe he'd trust more with his true heart than Yzak. It's simply becoming more and more clear to him, that these changes are making him a LOT more emotionally volatile than usual, and he doesn't feel like his typical level-headed self as a result! He feels like a goddamn alien in his own body, and in this agitated state of mind, he's convinced himself that surely Yzak will only see him as a stranger this way...
...It's an immense relief then, when he sees only concern and empathy looking back at him. Concern, empathy... And a tiny bit of amusement.
Dearka actually lets out a laugh, one which, again, sounds even more bark-like than usual, his sharp teeth flashing in a relieved, razor-keen grin. Just having Yzak's verbal acceptance is enough to give him a good chunk of his confidence back; his tail starts wagging again, and he gently bonks their foreheads together, slipping his other hand around Yzak's middle and drawing him in so their hips are basically flush, too.]
Well. Maybe this fucked up body of mine has some new perks it can provide in exchange.
[He's not actually sure what the fuck he even means by that. Like, what, maybe it made his dick bigger? Stupid. Whatever. It just felt like an apt response, for some reason, he's not going to think about it too hard. One thing Yzak will definitely feel, the more they're in contact with each other, is just how much Dearka is holding back. There's an undeniable energy within him that he's struggling to contain. It's present in the almost imperceptible trembling of his hands, in the tension in his jaw. He lets out a shaky breath, giving Yzak's hand a squeeze.]
...But I'll need you to keep me in check. Commander.
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