for the departed

let the bidding begin

If she could glow from how his expression made her feel, she would. That change from ready to indulge in her body to the warmth of knowing she cared for him. Thats what his eyes said, he saw her love in her actions. It was in his kiss and the beating of his heart. And this together with her already wet desire was almost just too much, almost enough to raise that hem.  Lust met with true affection, sincere adoration and love shared was damn near eruptive. She could feed on it, live in it, stain herself in it so brightly. To be free in this state, this love, this lust, this yearning, she wanted to merge their beings together and exist just so.  Her hand caressed his face, her eyes certainly the shape of his features. “It is not my surprise, no”, she giggled and kissed his mouth. “You have not stopped thinking of it have you my love? What’s the ratio of your thoughts currently? Fuck Soa, take bath, figure out surprise? What’s winning?” She kissed him again then licked his neck, sucking the spot gently while pressing her sex against his own, fabric between.   She eased back and sighed. “I will have them bring it up so you can rid it from your mind then you think only on me. But”, she said passing her fingers over the straps of her nighty. “Before or after Junji? You must decide” she said then lowered the right strap past her shoulder. Her night sank low on her breasts, right above her nipples.  She took his left hand to her mouth, kissing the tips of his fingers, nipping at his thumb gently. Then she placed it within her nighty, held it over her hardening nipples for a moment. “You know my love. I recall sending you a letter once, not quite in our our little cold war, after. Crave me”, she repeats her written words. “Crave me tirelessly.” She hummed and eased back from his groin, leaving his hand in her nighty. She eased back to the table and picked up the phone. “Run a beth. Yes, use the herbal blend with his name on it, the second. Also, have the navy box from the craftsman brought up. Thank you”, she said then set the phone back down on the receiver. “Have you decided my darling?” 

 He groans as she grinds against him. "Soa..." Another warning, though he's not sure what he's warning her against. But it tumbles from his mouth so helplessly, and he finds himself clutching her arm, clutching at the silky fabric of her robe as if it’s the only thing saving him from plummeting off a steep cliff. He's in a pitiful state: half-dressed, cheeks flushed, his throbbing desire pushing painfully against his trousers. A dame, indeed.

He nearly laughs aloud. There is no decision to be made. Well, that's not true. There is one, the only real choice: Her. Always her.

The mention of the herbal blend with his name on it raises a brow, but this time, he vows to not be distracted by Soa’s strange (albeit touching) peculiarities.

“The last time I was in your home...” Pause. “Well, one of your homes, I wasn’t very trusting of you, was I?” He cradles her cheek in his palm. “I know we’re past that now, but I want you to know — truly know — that I trust you. With my secrets, my shame, my happiness, my life….” His hand floats to the collar of her robe, delicately pushing it aside with the tips of his fingers, exposing her breast. At the sight, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip.

“I know you’ve asked me to make a decision, but I think what I want is to not make any. At least for the time being.” His thumb slowly circles her areola. “I always feel like I have to be in control of everything. Every waking minute of my day. I micromanage; I obsess; I double, triple, quadruple check. I’ve never known how to turn that part of my brain off… even in bed. It’s the only way I know how to keep myself safe, but…” He tweaks her nipple. He’s salivating. He really wants to put it in his mouth, but he has more to say. “I feel safe with you.”

(╯°□°)╯

Doyun wanted to say it, but nothing came out. He thought: well, anything can happen when you’re not the guy with a demon puppeteering your body and killing for sport. But it was unnecessary, uncalled for—bitter, even. Junji most certainly had his own demons regardless of what Doyun thought. The fact that he could even think so childishly, especially toward a man that was actively trying to help him made him red with embarrassment, more than talking about their love lives. “You’re right,” Doyun agreed, “anything can happen.”

And they’re drawn into silence for a long time, Doyun staring at the older man with a cocked head. Even the cats weren’t enough to lure him away from the spiral of thoughts, what-if’s now making their way to the forefront of his mind. He had had no thoughts of the future; it would be a stretch to even try and begin to think about the long-run. But obviously, when Doyun was alone and despairing in his room, crying over inspirational YouTube videos, he still thought about it.

“I think,” he started, “I want to go home. And yeah, that’s like… nothing really—my parents live less than an hour away from me. But I want to be able to visit them without being worried about if I’m gonna turn and go ballistic on them. I want to go back to work. I hated my job, and sometimes parents were really mean, but I miss the kids. I miss that my biggest problems used to be making lesson plans and wiping snot off the kids’ faces.”

He paused again.

“And probably a better mattress. I can’t sleep well, and it doesn’t help that my mattress is the same one I’ve had since I was like… a teenager. My back gets sore.” He trailed off into a quiet laugh, and then he sighed. “Having a girlfriend would be pretty sick, too,” he mumbled under his breath.

The younger man agrees with him, but Junji gets the impression it’s more out of politeness than any indication of his true feelings. That's fine. The necromancer can't blame him because it's what he did when he was Doyun’s age. Hell, it's what he does now at 35. It's a fascinating aspect of human nature: the hypocrisy of giving advice that one does not follow. The oddest thing about it, he thinks, is that despite the inherent hypocrisy, he isn't being the least bit insincere. When he says that Doyun will be free of his demons (literal and metaphorical), he means it. 

He listens to the other man delineate his ideal life and feels his chest blossom with sudden tenderness. It is a simple life, what he's describing, but a beautiful one.

"And you'll have it," Junji states firmly. "You'll have it all." He's usually opposed to making such lofty promises, especially about things he isn't 100% certain he can deliver. Even when accounting, he hesitates to make any sort of declarative statement, and math is undoubtedly more straightforward than demonic possession.

There's the undeniable fact that exorcising a demon becomes a lot simpler when the host regains as much authority over themselves as possible. And the best way to accomplish this is through hope and self-determination. But Junji isn't saying all of this to make his job more manageable; he truly believes it.

She smiles at him, teeth passing over her lip for a moment. Such a small act, so gentle and warm, welcoming, yet repentant. And she wants him, the desire rises to the surface without question. And while it ripples, pools, makes itself aware, breasts aching to be touched, mouth craving his own, It comforts her. The surety she has in the feeling, knowing exactly what she wants and knowing it would be met in the same is such a comfort. No unasked question in fear of an answer and rejection. The glass is set down. She caresses his cheek in her hand. Love. She was so in love with this man. It filled her, saturated her. In his presence it swelled, ringing in her.

“Junnie”, she says softly then brings his face to hers, kissing his cheeks, then his jaw, his nose then his mouth with a hum. She guides his face up, easing him next to lay aside her on the settee, leg hooking over him, robe opening. Her hands stay on his face, caressing, easing hair back, passing over his cheeks and jaw. “My darling Junji.”

Her eyes wander down to his collar, his suit and she rolls him over, easing a top him. Her fingers reach for the tie first, easing it free and tossing it behind her. Slowly her fingers undo his buttons until her hands are at his bare chest. Her left passes his nipple with a giggle before continuing to unbutton the shirt. “Would you like to take a bath with me Junji?” she asked as she eased back and began undoing the belt on his trousers. Most of her hair is settled behind her, but few strands begin slipping over her shoulder. 

“It can be before of after you cum inside of me, darling”, she adds with a hum. “I am very tempted to just lift this nighty a bit and -”, she moans in restraint. “But I also want to sit and talk in the tub with you, play in your wet hair, massage your scalp. Then you can have a proper dinner, not just me.” She let her finger pass over the skin at his abdomen then unbuttoned his trousers, eyes wandering down to the zipper. “I will have your suit cleaned and pressed. Did you know I have a corner of the closet here with suits I’ve had tailored to your measurements? I may be off a bit”, she says flattening her hands against his abdomen, thumbs touching , fingers extended, “but I don’t think so.” She grinned. “I know my Junnie. Suits, shirts, ties, sweaters, shoes, a hat, some scarves, sunglasses”, she stopped herself with a small laugh. “I couldn’t help myself. I hold no part of me I will not share with you my love. You are ever on my mind.”

Despite his best efforts to stay level-headed, he can feel his trousers grow tight. Soa is unyielding. He might have mistaken her for a succubus if he didn't already know what she was, if he wasn't in the hallowed halls of her magnificent vampire lineage. She has her manicured claws hooked in his flesh, and loves it; he wouldn't have it any other way. Vampire or succubus, she has him willingly in her clutches. 

Something about this train of thought conjures up images of gothic dime novels, with a handsome Dracula-type on the cover, sensuously nibbling on the neck of a busty ingenue in a thin, curve-clinging frock. He is most certainly the dame in this scenario, collapsing onto the fainting couch and allowing the Big Bad Vampire to have her way with him. It's an enticing fantasy, one that riles him up. Even more than he already is, which is quite a feat.

He nuzzles his face into Soa’s neck as she utters that decree of vulgarity. His cheeks burn, a heat she can surely feel against her throat. “Well,” he murmurs, trying to think with his head instead of his dick. “A bath would be nice.” 

She is undressing him with deft fingers and remarkable precision. He half expects to look down and find himself utterly nude without ever noticing a single article of clothing being removed. She’s stopped at the zipper of his trousers, no doubt noticing his desire for her pressing against the fabric. 

(╯°□°)╯

“Cool.” Doyun didn’t know if asking more questions would be prying, or make Junji uncomfortable. Junji was already such a private man, even divulging that much information must have been a lot, especially to a veritable stranger. Yeah, he knew of Doyun’s most intimate, dark secret, but that didn’t necessarily imply that it had to go both ways. Junji didn’t owe Doyun anything, but shit, Doyun wanted to know so bad.

And then he flushed, because of course the question would be redirected back at him. It was the only plausible turn to the conversation.

“No,” Doyun replied, ducking his head. He wasn’t embarrassed, but he knew that it was weird that he had never dated. People often assumed the worst if they found out: that he was weird or gay or something else. He didn’t even care if people thought he was gay, but he didn’t like men. Like… even outside of not being physically attracted to them, all men did was lie. Well, not Junji or Tae or his dad, but he’d sat in enough cafes listening to his old coworkers and college friends talk about their boyfriends enough to know that he was blessed to not have to deal with that sort of stuff. Yeah, he thought Ryan Reynolds was hot—but most every man on Earth found that guy hot. It was weirder not to.

But yeah, Doyun knew that he shouldn’t care what people thought, and he didn’t for the most part. He just knew that it was better to just not say anything because he knew what people would think anyways. At the same time, it wasn’t like he had been actively running away from the prospect of dating or getting into relationships. Things just… didn’t work out.

Clearly.

“It would be kind of difficult, you know. With all of this—” he waved a hand at himself, “—going on.”

Junji nods in understanding. It's a sad familiar story, and while he can't relate to why Doyun is isolated, the feelings it evokes are close to home. “I think I’ve said the same thing about myself once or twice,” he considers this momentarily, his mouth quirking to the side in thought. “Definitely more than twice. And now... well... let’s just say life is a curious thing. Anything can happen.” 

Momo has climbed into Doyun's lap and is purring so loudly that she’s practically vibrating. From this cozy position, she gazes at Junji with jewel-green eyes that are human-like in their discernment. Mei bats at Doyun’s shoelaces with a grey paw while Kage sits tall and protectively by his feet, looking like a regal statue in ancient Egypt. 

“When this is all over,” he emphasizes the word ‘this’ to indicate the demon, “What are your plans? And I don't mean what you think you should do or what others want you to do. What do you want?” Because he knows himself, he knows that Doyun probably hasn't given much thought to the future. He has no reason to. Presently, the demon dictates all of his life’s significant decisions and beats. Making plans for the future is a two-edged dagger that the demon will gleefully deflect with lethal force at his heart. 

(╯°□°)╯

The laugh Doyun let out was quiet, a little ’heh’ as his shoulders shrugged with it. Somehow, a man that he had—for whatever reason—likened to a passive god, had become a man. And it should have been obvious, right? They were in a nice apartment with three cats, talking about ways to eat clay, it should have struck him earlier. But maybe that was also a consequence for living for so long now outside of his own body, not feeling real within himself that he had to detach everyone else too. Just to belatedly realize that everyone else, just like him, was real. Too real, maybe. The ethics behind it all hurt his head.

He even had a girlfriend. One that apparently had some weird beef with a cat. And usually, he’d think that ridiculous, but he realized again that he was also in a one-sided stand-off with his brother’s dog. And all he felt was sympathy. “Momo, you have nothing to worry about.” Doyun said, all too seriously to the cat. For a moment, the idea that he could steal away with the cat flitted through his mind, but it was mostly nonsensical. He knew that cat deserved fancy treats and a companion that actually had the fortitude to take care of her well. Later, then. If in the future he was better or cured or whatever may be, then he could look into it more.

“What’s she like, your girlfriend? Is that okay for me to ask? You don’t have to answer if it’s too invasive.” Doyun had never had a girlfriend. Hadn’t even really liked anyone aside from this one girl in middle school who carried around three separate pencil cases for all of her fancy, special pencils and stationery. He was like his mom in situations like this, wanting to know everything and everyone’s love life. Maybe because he had no experience in it himself.

Doyun's assertion to Momo makes Junji smile. He's told this to the orange feline numerous times, but perhaps she'll listen to an objective third party. In fairness to the cat, Momo has started warming up to the vampiress since allowing the cats to sleep in the bed with them at night. He's mentioned it before, but Soa and Momo have similar personalities. What he doesn't mention is that he had once wondered if he was initially drawn to Soa because of these similarities. He sure as hell would never admit it out loud, but it's something that has crossed his mind once or twice.

"It's okay," Junji says. Is it? He has no idea. "She's very bright and ambitious. We've known each other for a long time, but we've only recently begun dating." He pauses, unsure how or if he should proceed. "But I've been madly in love with her for a long time." He realizes this is the first time he's admitted this to anyone else, and instead of feeling immediate guilt, he experiences that reassuring sense of lightness that comes with speaking one's truth.

(╯°□°)╯

“Ah, that’s it.” Doyun nodded. “I always get confused—like the accents always get to me.” Watson, Wallace, they sounded so similar in his head for absolutely no reason. But even then, he knew he was still fixating on this because he wanted to remove himself as much as he could from the earlier topic of conversation, which still haunted the back of his head. If he didn’t speak, he would slowly think on it more, and it would send him down another spiral. He couldn't—wouldn’t break down twice in a row in front of Junji.

“With the wonders of modern cinema, it’s never a matter of if, but when.” Doyun was fully faced toward the cats, urging them closer. “You know something weird? Every time I see Wallace and Gromit, I always wanna take, like, a bite out of them. They look like tteok, you know?”

And then he was laughing, just a little at that thought, because in his need to distract, he had said something stupid. But it felt kind of nice, to have his head empty from the stress for more than five seconds. Plus, Junji was funny, in a somewhat disarming way. “I guess so. But does that mean your other partner is like your… partner partner?” So Junji did have a Steve, or a girlfriend. That was somehow both the most surprising and unsurprising bit of information he’d gained about the other man. “Aside from Momo, I mean.”

“I can understand that,” he says, with a level of seriousness that the discussion of eating claymation figures probably didn’t deserve, but that was how Junji approached everything. “They do look like they’d be rather... chewy. And tossed in a nice chili sauce. Could be tasty.”

He's silently cursing himself for not simply letting Doyun believe he'd been talking about the metaphorical Watson to his Holmes. There was no reason he needed to clarify what he'd actually been referring to, but a part of him desperately wanted to tell someone about Soa. He wanted to show her off. His mind has bent over backward to persuade him that her falling in love with him was a ruse, one that she'd soon reveal to him with a scoffing 'You really thought I'd be in love with someone like you?' (It was for this reason that he hadn't told his mother about his relationship.) But the more time he spends with her, the more he is able to accept that she is sincere, that he is someone worthy of her love.