AnK - Black Moon Rising

Black Moon Rising

By: ElegantPaws with all due deference to Yoshihara Rieko

Edited by: Ainzfern

Key Pairing: Raoul/Katze

Rating: Mature – NC 17

Parts: WIP – 5b of 25

Reviews are fuel.

This little sojourn into decadence is the property of A_ngua, now and always.


Chapter 5b of 25 – In Situ (Post OVA)

~~~BMR~~~

His men had cleared off for the night in search of more ‘willing’ entertainment they could touch without fear or favor. Guy had remained, nursing one final drink as he worked up the courage to climb the stairs. The current display on stage was boring him to tears as the four petite Pets bucked and whined their way to feigned ecstasy, while inebriated clients watched with hands firmly in laps.

But for Guy’s, there wasn’t a dry crotch in the house.

How dare he!?

That singular thought drove Bison’s leader, unsteadily from his booth and up the stairwell towards Katze’s private offices. None of the guards on duty tried to stay his movements. Guy preened at this fact.

They knew he had business with the uber boss and did not question his presence, other than the mandatory pat down he would receive from the vicious looking entity atop the stairs. The bald male in question, stocky of frame but in an earlier time a looker, was openly regarding him with suspicion and a fair amount of predatory interest.

Bison’s leader casually adjusted his ‘person’ and continued to mount the stairs.

Guy’s cold gray eyes managed to focus, appraising the man before him with a certain level of challenge now that they were face to face. Perhaps he had drunk too much and was biting off way more than he could chew. He eyed his own image in the reflective surface of the wall beyond the broad tense shoulders of the guard.

With a snort he raised his arms and parted long legs with an open invitation meant to appease and titillate the behemoth before him, long chestnut hair slung over one shoulder, shadowing pale eyes that held a lewd gleam.

“Knock yourself out, big boy.”

The wind was knocked out of Bison’s leader as he found himself pressed firmly and painfully to the wall and a low rumble resonated in his ear, sending shivers up his spine as a coarse palm kneaded his groin. It was in no way pleasurable.

“Behave, little boy.”

The pincer-like grip twisting the newly acquired arm caused Guy to whimper in pain.

Guy’s own bravado faltered as he was spun back around and held to the wall by his wrenched shoulder. His breath caught as the fingers of a thick hand threateningly glided over his lean flanks, and well muscled derriere before nudging suggestively between wide spread legs.

“Never issue invitations you don’t intend to keep, little man. Do that again, you’ll get more than you bargained for.”

“Yeah and I’ll chop your dick off if you try!” Guy practically spat in the anger at the security man, who still held his arm, but with a less fierce grip. His words had registered. They all knew of his history.

As though the threat hadn’t been issued, the guard chuckled and gave Guy one last lingering look. “Not before I give you a good going over though. It won’t just be me. We’ll all take a turn while the Master watches.”

Detailed inspection complete, a slow smile graced a scarred upper lip as dark blue eyes held indignant, livid gray.

“Nice… very nice. Amazed the boss hasn’t tried you out himself, but he’s weird like that. Never mixes business with pleasure. Me, I’m not so particular.”


~~~BMR~~~


Katze had always made a point of never mixing business with pleasure, but there were exceptions. With growing satisfaction, pale amber eyes watched under thick lashes the beautiful lines of Raoul’s patrician features contorting in ecstasy with each languid swipe of his tongue.
For the first time in the encounter, the red-head felt empowered, so much so a graceful hand snaked between his own thighs, seeking his neglected shaft with a slow exhalation of warm breath. He moaned in pleasure around the Elite’s girth.

Katze drank him in once more, enjoying the bittersweet essence at the back of his throat as he hummed.

Raoul hissed, shuddering in response.

“Ooooh Katze, yes…yes...yes…”

Long elegant fingers grasped the damp silken head of the mongrel and gently petted the soft hair as a reward. The Elite adjusted his stance, fully enjoying the sight and feel of being buried to the hilt between those soft wet lips and the quiet thrumming vibrations of dealer’s throat that sent shockwaves through his form.

Raoul gazed dazedly at the bobbing head, suppressing the guttural hiss that almost escaped clenched teeth. Those soft lips suckled him with practiced precision before taking him in fully.

Green eyes opened fully, his pleasure marred by a sudden realization. The mongrel had no discernable gag reflex.

Anger filled the Elite.

He thrust violently into the heat of the wet, welcoming orifice, causing Katze to finally gag at the unexpected shift in pace. Large amber eyes looked up into piercing cold green. Raoul’s cock slipped from wet lips and trembling hands, in self defense, stilled the Blondie’s hips.

“Much better, little Mongrel. I thought that would get your attention.”

Again that recurring thought as he looked into those limpid, questioning pools of amber light. Katze had done this before.

Possibly even with Iason.

Blinding rage overtook the Elite at this surmise. He struck a lancing blow across Katze’s cheek.

The mongrel bore it silently to Raoul’s surprise. Katze was made of far sterner stuff than he had originally anticipated. The only sign of discomfort the slow working of his jaw.

“Consider that a mild reprimand for your presumptive behavior. Never labor under the delusion that you are free to gratify your own carnal needs in my presence. You are nothing more than a vehicle for my own pleasure.”

Raoul watched with fascination the myriad expressions that passed over the dealer’s handsome face before it settled on a cool dispassionate gaze. There was challenge there in those beautiful eyes now cold with repressed fury.

“Fine…fine… Master Am, as you wish.”

What surprised the Elite most was the movement of those graceful hands that crept across the rumpled sheets and grasped the belt, then examined it before placing it around his own elegant throat, fastening it with an air of resignation.

Katze extended his palm to the Elite with the rest of the coiled leather.

“Might I assume you would prefer to fuck me now, Master Am?”

~~~BMR~~~

The door was closed as expected but not locked.

Knocking was simply not Guy’s style. He looked about him, noting with relief that the monolith had moved further down the hall to investigate a disturbance. Apparently someone was a bit boisterous in Salon 10 and the ex-Pet in question was having none of it. She had rights and the client had not paid nearly enough for his unusual request.

Guy sniggered and slowly opened the door to the understated, if not downright boringly monotone space that was Katze’s office and stepped through.

The floor to ceiling monitors were aglow but muted, he noticed. His eyes wandered over the varying displays finally settling on Salon 10 where a corpulent, sweating male was cowering in a corner dressed in nothing more than a bustier of the most lurid pink and very little else.

Guy was transfixed as the guard heaved the body of the terrified client over his shoulder seemingly effortlessly and stayed the flailing hands of the tiny, rather pretty former Pet who was getting her licks in before the unfortunate man in question was summarily thrown out into the streets in his current garb. Guy’s pale eyes shifted to the wet bar with a smirk. Katze did have the best booze up here.

‘Why not indulge while the Katze away.’

He chuckled at his own exceedingly bad pun while pouring from the decanter into a paper thin goblet of alien design and glanced at the other monitors, only one was dark.

Gray eyes became pinpoints of malicious speculation. He took a swig and picked up the control.

Might as well enjoy himself while he waited for the dealer’s return.

Several experimental taps finally garnered results and the holographic screen’s silvery haze bloomed into a full capture. Two shadowy male figures were obviously engaged in some manner of hardcore foreplay.

That lewd smile returned to the mongrel’s handsome face as he cocked his legs up on the low lacquered table and prepared to enjoy the free show.

The taller of the two was a superb specimen, Guy thought, absently caressing the inseam of his weathered jeans, almost purring in approval as he eased back into the comfortable couch and lifted the snifter to his lips. He still hadn’t found the audio control, but that didn’t matter.

Who needed sound, when the action on screen spoke volumes?

He liked how the smaller tethered male silhouette shivered in response to the yank of the …Guy zoomed in…yes it was a belt.

“Mmmmm….nice touch.”

Guy licked the rim of the thin goblet, eyes narrowing lasciviously in what promised to be a seriously good fuck. Damn but the bigger of the two was well hung. Elite material, from what he had heard.

That was gonna hurt.

Unconsciously the chestnut-haired mongrel opened the snap of his jeans allowing callused fingers to tease and comb the soft curly brush of his sex with an anticipatory sigh, his own sphincter clenching in unaccustomed empathy.


~~~BMR~~~

Again the red-haired mongrel had overstepped, willfully challenging his dominance in the situation. Raoul snarled in frustration, yanking the frail body to its knees. Cold emerald looked down at the supplicating figure at his naked feet.

Raoul’s eyes furrowed unexpectedly. Katze was shivering but offered no challenge, instead selecting to keep his head bowed.

‘Most dissatisfactory.’

Unaccountably perturbed by the shift in events, Raoul bent and examined the rapidly swelling bruise upon the mongrel’s fine boned cheek.

“It…didn’t have to be this way, Katze…”

A self effacing chuckle, devoid of humor, escaped the dealer’s swollen lips.

“Oh yes, Master Am. No other way this could end. Just do it. Get your rocks off. I will heal, eventually. I always do.”

Raoul blinked at the unexpected sotto voiced response, his own chest constricting at the implication of Katze’s words. Someone had taken steps, possibly denying him his prize.

Another sharp tug on the impromptu leash, in lieu of a response, while carefully observing the mongrel’s reaction.

There was none.

“Meaning?”

Pale eyes looked up, entirely defeated. The look had been fleeting but it was there; disconcerting to say the least. Such unwanted openness quickly veiled by long lashes and thinned lips.

“The floor or the bed?”

It felt odd to take the Mongrel’s lead, but this once he would, if for no other reason other than to avoid that accusing gaze and the sudden foreboding in his own chest.

“The bed, I should think.” Raoul answered casually, noting with mild affront the flagging interest of the mongrel’s member as he crawled on all fours and faced the inlaid head board.

A pale brow rose, further irritated by his own sudden waning erection. The dealer had ostensibly chosen the one position best suited to avoiding any form of intimacy, possibly so he could imagine someone else impaling his flesh.

Raoul was having none of it.

“On your back, Katze… I want you on your back.”

An exasperated sigh, a momentary shift as the lean muscles of his back quivered under the shimmering light before acquiescing. Raoul pointedly avoided the gaze he knew that was upon him. Katze spread his legs mechanically and leaned heavily into the plush pillows below his head, his face in shadow.

Raoul’s eyes roamed over the still figure appreciatively. He really was a magnificent little thing. No wonder Iason had chosen him as Furniture. He more than accentuated his surroundings with his elfin beauty.

Though a little unnerved by the complete lack of interest shown by that formerly proud cock lying flaccid against Katze’s thigh, Raoul remained undaunted. He could easily work with what he saw before him and was sufficiently smug in the knowledge that Katze wanted him, regardless of his current unresponsiveness.

Raoul pursed his lips, continuing to gaze at the smooth expanse of well muscled alabaster before him. He had no intention of being denied the pleasure of hearing Katze cry out in ecstasy, perhaps even pain, as he impaled him. Green eyes hooded with cool calculation. Vivid images of violent acquisition forming in his minds eye awakening his cock as if from sleep.

A bit of give and take might well prove the most expedient course of action in eliciting interest.

“Where is it?”

Katze shifted, rising on his elbows, his head bent in query.

“What is it you require, Master Am?”

Raoul gritted his teeth. The damn little tease was forcing him to state the obvious.

“Don’t test my patience in an effort to be coy, Katze. You won’t like the results,” the Elite hissed, broad shoulders stiffening as he climbed onto the bed, looking very much like what he was, a predator.

Katze knew well enough, but had been surprised by the implicit request. This demand was entirely out of character for the being now hovering over him, violently nudging his thighs further apart while long fingers deftly stroked puckered flesh in a slow caress.

“Lubricant Katze, lubricant… I’m amazed it doesn’t come oozing out of the walls in this little Den of Inequity,” Raoul whispered threateningly into his ear.

The red-head gasped as the searing heat of the Elite’s need further urgently illustrated the point against the flat of his belly with slow rhythmic strokes.

Nervous fingers fiddled with the knob of the bedside table, quickly caught by an outstretched hand stilling them and unceremoniously placing said hand where it was wanted about the Elite’s waist.

Katze blinked in consternation at the male that rose above him and curiously examined the tube. It was almost laughable to watch the Elite attempting to read the instructions in the ambient light before judicious application of the cold, slick unguent to his blushing manhood.

“Not that it is my place, Master Am, but might I suggest you apply it to me too? It will more than ease the process and further your enjoyment…that is the point.”

A wayward blonde lock was whipped back indignantly at being interrupted. The Elite glared at the man he straddled with an air of superior indifference and handed the mongrel the tube, the cutting words with emphasis on his pleasure in no way lost.

Katze averted his gaze and handily began to prepare himself with practical cold efficiency; a feigned cold efficiency not shared by a slowly lengthening, thickening sex.

Raoul smirked. The Mongrel wanted him though he pretended otherwise.

Batting the red-head’s slick fingers away from his prize, the Elite slowly breached his opening with unexpected care. One finger then two, curled delectably within the tight heat of the mongrel’s body.

Katze sighed, entirely surprised by the gentle, yet intrusive caress of long fingers that sought and found, the sweet spot within with pinpoint accuracy.

“Mmmmm…more…” the red-head moaned leaning back against the plush pillows, grasping the Blondie’s hips with a surprisingly strong grip, soft amber intent on the patrician face above.

“Fuck me, Master Am. I want you to fuck me, please,” was the strangled breathy request, verging on demand.

‘This was more like it.’

Raoul’s lips quirked into a self-satisfied smile, continuing to observe that eerily beautiful countenance’s response to his every touch, completely lost in surrender. Katze was a sensualist. Something he would remember for the future.

How many years had he waited, biding his time, subconsciously wanting to hear those words uttered by petulant lips used to caustic repartee?

Unwanted memories flooded the Elite of the dealer’s reconstructive surgery; Iason’s most telling gift to his servant of years.

Even as the Mongrel slept post operatively the creature had drawn him. That guileless expression entranced; almost angelic in its fragile balanced beauty. The full curve of that mouth, usually a thin disciplined line, augmented by furrowed brows, softening by slumber had proved far too enticing to resist.

Raoul had succumbed with a brush of velvety lips, no more, hardly tasting the sweetness he now knew intimately.

The hatred, the tumult within had begun then.

Such power held in so fragile a being not worthy of an Elite’s notice, had captured the Second in Command.

~~~BMR~~~

Guy bit his lower lip, entirely engrossed as the one with the pale glowing mane parted the other’s legs fully with a proprietary air, long fingers sinking between the cleft of firm, smooth cheeks, delving within the tight hot channel of muscle.

He groaned softly, eyes blissfully at half mast as his own callused fingers skated over his balls to stroke the hot velvet of sensitive skin between testes and anus. Few of his ill chosen partners, except Riki, had ever taken the time to touch him there. To a man they had chosen to lick, suck or fuck with their own gratification in mind.

Guy’s eyes opened dazedly as the blonde’s profile came fully into view, caught by the light of the moons glow as the pale head bent forward and took the lips of the prone red-headed male possessively, while firm butt cheeks tightened with a pre-emptive thrust of hips between wide spread legs.


~~~BMR~~~


Katze went rigid within Raoul’s arms, his cry stifled by the press of soft velvety lips and an agile tongue that breached his lips moments before that equally hot intrusive shaft had taken possession, stretching him fully, painfully.

Raoul lifted his head, observing with keen calculating eyes the grimace upon the beautiful face. He would thank him later. No point delaying the inevitable by inching incrementally. In fact, considering this had been his first incursion in enemy territory, Raoul was quite proud of his skills.

The mongrel had not been torn, merely stretched by his substantial girth. Something about Katze’s expression pleased him. Regardless of his earlier boastful words, Raoul knew from the expression in those beautiful querulous eyes, he was the first.

This seemingly irrelevant fact proved comforting to the Elite, whose own lips gently turned up in a half smile unbeknownst to the owner of said lips.

Katze blinked, entirely flummoxed by the gentle expression he saw in the soft emerald green, quietly observing him with studious intent. Despite misgivings long fingers brushed pale strands behind Raoul’s ear and received for its efforts a soft appreciative purr of contentment.

“Kiss me, Master Am.”

In no way a command, a simple request the Elite was more than willing to fulfill as he carefully began to move within the pliant giving body below, savouring the heat of their connection.

~~~BMR~~~

Guy came with a strangled cry captivated by the movement of strong undulating hips and the pained pleasure of that familiar face on screen biting down on a broad shoulder with blunt white teeth.

Katze!

Someone was fucking Katze and he was enjoying it!

~~~BMR~~~

Pungent was the intoxicating fragrance of Katze’s release.

Anointed; he felt anointed as hot, wet, pulses of the mongrel’s cum spilled between their sweating, heaving bodies with each punishing stroke within. The searing heat of delectably firm muscles threatening to constrict his own fruition, tightening painfully with each renewed surge of viscous evidence shared.

Raoul mindlessly surrendered to the primeval call of fulfillment fueled by the feel of moist lips and the strong bite of teeth into his shoulder muscles as Katze trembled.

The Elite roared his pleasure, his pride, at the mongrel’s surrender beneath him.

Katze’s arched his back enjoying the hot surge of Raoul’s essence spilling, overflowing, anointing his bedding, his body; a first.

~~~BMR~~~

Guy blinked, then blinked again, hands searched desperately for something dry, preferably cloth to wipe the evidence of his own completion off costly material. In the end, he had had to use his shirt to remove as much evidence of his presence before carefully leaving the outer office.

Fear, trepidation and the inevitable incumbent reprisals always wrought havoc with an inebriated mind.

He had left the monitor on.


~~~BMR~~~

Katze watched under lowered lashes the languid movements of the Elite as he retrieved his vestments, sniffed the various articles of clothing and began silently dressing at the foot of the bed.

The red-head noted the sash was entirely wrong. A soft smirk came to pale lips as he slowly, carefully got up, retrieved the open pack of smokes by his bedside and lit a Black Nocturne.

“If I may be so bold, Master Am?”

Raoul’s eyes narrowed. True, the question had been delivered relatively demurely but the impish gleam he saw in those cognac eyes spoke volumes.

“As you wish. Get on with it.”

Efficiently the dealer tucked, buttoned and studied the resplendent, if not slightly rumpled being before him with satisfaction. He exhaled a long plum of smoke with a squinting proprietary air.

Then he remembered and carefully unclasped the belt about his neck and placed it where it belonged around that most skilled waist with a tug of the clasp to close.

Raoul looked very much like the cold fish he was, Katze mused.

Funny, it didn’t bother or send the fear of God into him at the moment. They each knew their place and this would never happen again.

There was comfort in that, he assured himself, tightening the loose silken sheet about his midriff with finality, exhaling the fragrant smoke, observing the male that towered above him with blank acceptance.

The silence was palpable.

“Your car should still be down there, Sir Am.”

“Of course, where else would it be?”

Katze shrugged, so much for conversation.

Raoul blinked and watched as the graceful body elegantly sauntered to the window and lifted a blind, well sculpted features framed by the shimmering light of twin moons.

“I’ll send a complete report to your office tomorrow morning before you get in.”

The Elite’s shoulders stiffened. He felt dismissed. With purposeful strides he reached the door, opened it and left without a backward glance.

Katze had not moved from his perch at the window. His eyes closed as he heard the security lock engage the outer port of his office.

Silently, abstractly, he observed the tall, lean silhouette gracefully settle in the rear of the Syndicate vehicle, its occupant oblivious to his presence and silent vigil.

A sad smile graced the red-head’s lips at the irony as pale amber blinked and came to rest on the gleaming white object that remained in the open doorway - a glove; the only evidence of the unrequited divide; how apropos.

He would have it laundered and sent on in the morning along with the report. Fuck but his jaw hurt. Maybe a shower, Raoul’s scent still lingered on his skin.

~~~BMR~~~

Raoul’s gaze remained far afield as the lights of Eos Tower came into view, his naked palm methodically, repeatedly stroking the cool material of his gloved hand without respite.

It felt strange – alien without its twin. He would retrieve it in the morning.

For now he needed a shower, the man’s scent permeated his skin.


Author’s Note

*WICKED EVIL GRIN*

Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive…even ourselves…

I think there is a next time…don’t you?

Namaste

ElegantPaws