How Vulgar!

gold eyes can’t help but glance sideways to the experiment. he’s half a mind to tell him if he wants to dictate his actions that he can very well do it himself then. but cain simply stays silent, a single brow lifting at the suggestion before he’s glancing back to the poor victim laid upon the dining table.

fitting, seeing it was a meal for dear isaac.

a quiet debate is made with himself, thinking over whether or not he wants to take the advice. it’s not a long debacle, for the fallen’s hand twists sharp, jerking the knife in the poor captive’s belly. a sharp screech pierces the air and cain’s lip all but twitches up cruelly, watching knuckles pale as they desperately claw the table. almost like they were attempting to get away. foolish, really. he’d never let that happen, or if he did, he’d simply find them again. or let them rot in the wastes. it’s no different to him.

but this plaything was not solely for him, but the experiment that clings to his shoulders, watching intently. he can feel the fabric of his shirt become damp from the drool that drips from the other’s mouth. another glance back to isaac is made and cain simply lifts a hand to cup the experiment’s jaw and force his mouth closed.

“i’m aware,” he muses quietly, listening to the plip of the blood that pools against the wood, dripping over the edge of it, “and you’re very capable of making that mess yourself.” a chuff of a laugh is made, and he twists his hand again, listening to the thud of legs kicking against the table surface. his hand pushes harder, digs the blade further down till he’s certain the tip scrapes the table itself.

his smile remains twisted as he carves a hole in the victim’s side, blood oozing from the wound. he admires shredded flesh and torn muscle, tongue poking from his mouth to lick against the flesh of his lip. humans were so fragile, weren’t they? yet they made such excellent toys. another laugh is quietly given, the hand holding isaac’s jaw dropping and cain slides the knife out to bring it up to the experiment’s face.

a soft snort leaves the rider at the affirmation of the outlaw’s amusement, as well as the comment followed up. a shudder trails up his spine at the breath against his ear and the fingers that continue to grope at his pecs. lips part, as if niklaus were going to retort but his voice catches in his throat, becoming yet another choked noise of pleasure. gods above, its almost like niles knew his chest was his weakpoint. niklaus can’t help how his head falls back, resting against the archer’s shoulder as he keens from the way nimble fingers tease his nipples ( which cause his hips to grind down yet again ).

now, perhaps part of him should have seen the tail when it moved back and forth. and perhaps he should have noticed xinya’s presence as well. but he didn’t and it results in a surprised sound when he’s suddenly knocked over, breath momentarily leaving him. the feeling of a kiss, another and many more tells him exactly what happened and niklaus can’t help but chuckle quietly at the dragon’s enthusiastic affection, peering up at him with single eye.

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