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Summary
“For fuck’s sake, angel.” He sounded almost baffled, with a distinct edge of mania and a firmer one of annoyance, and the satisfaction of driving Chrollo to that point hit Kurapika harder than a drug trip, means be damned. “What, do you keep a knife up your cunt, too?”
Kurapika simpered, “Why don’t you find out?”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Machi said, with feeling.
“Wouldn’t that hurt?” Shizuku was half-twisted again, looking back on the sprawl of bodies in the backseat, sounding concerned.
“Not if you do it right,” Kurapika answered distractedly, uncaring of the fact he was engaging a Spider in polite conversation. More important things.
or, Chrollo and Kurapika fuck in the backseat of a moving vehicle, much to Machi's consternation.
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Kurapika finds a lead on someone who might know the location of the Scarlet Eyes.
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What he did see was one dark, iron-clad Knight in the aftermath, drenched in obsidian blood, heaving for breath. The moment those eyes locked on his, Illuga knew this was no nightmare. He could recognize that wicked grin in his dreams.
“Hey, Captain. Fancy running into you here.”
Lohen’s sword, twirled in an idle hand, cut through the moonlight.
“Care to spar?”
Perhaps nightmares are simply the truths that reality refuses to speak aloud, revealed without disguise.
A Knight and a Lightkeeper find each other in the woods.
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“Young Master is demanding, hmm?” Flins purred, leaving Illuga stammering and gasping as Flins took one pink nipple into his mouth and started to suck.
“Sure is,” Varka muttered into Illuga’s hair, and when Illuga moaned and pressed back, he could feel the Grandmaster’s strong hairy chest, his big belly and even the hardening line of his cock.
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Caelus finds himself with a bottle of alcohol straight from Belobog's underworld. What better way to spend it than with one of his newest companions aboard the express?
“You said the end of the expedition should be a cause for celebration, right?” Caelus says, setting the glasses down on the desk. “What say you to honouring Belobog tradition with some of their finest?” He raises the bottle and smiles hopefully.
The bottle does not appear to contain what Danheng would imagine when presented with the word ‘finest’. The liquid appears thick- although not quite as sludge-like as some of Himeko’s coffee, and he’s managed to stomach that before. Even if the experience was not particularly enjoyable.
He swallows and pretends he doesn’t feel his heart rate increase as the silver-haired man looks at him expectantly.