d.e.v.i.l;

If they were faking it, he hadn’t cared. If in this moment, even as she laid there, simply enjoying the quiet that had come at the end of their love making it meant absolutely nothing in the divine, grand scheme of things. He would cherish it until the day he died again. Being with Maja these days felt like some strange revival. There was a piece of him lost to time that had returned with finding her again and something in him had wanted to hold onto it for dear life.

He’d missed her, Elias missed her, and he knew that when it was all over in this life he’d be back as he was in the underworld, begging Melone to let him return. Let him come back to her and this time he’d remember. He’d search for her for as long as she remained a living doll on this gods forsaken Earth. He told himself that, every time the kissed again, every time she held his hand and she smiled at him, but underneath it all there was still a sad...incompleteness.

“Here,” he said with a soft grunt, helping her off his form so he could slip out of the bed, “I want to show you something.” Kakuzo stood to his feet, grabbing his boxers from the floor and pulling them on before exiting the room for a moment. He made his way to his little office, a memoriam of his music that housed all of his guitars and among other things. Off the wall came his one and only Martin NAMM Limited, the Ox-blood color glinting in the dim light of the room as he returned.

“Believe it or not,” he said softly, giving her a warm smile as he settled back onto the crumpled sheets. “I got this guitar, on the same street that we met on when I was touring. I don’t remember the shop before it completely of course, but I remembered the street recently when we started...talking,” the demi-god added for lack of a better word, “again. And this was in a pawn shop there. The guy sold it to me super cheap, he’s a fucking idiot had no idea how awesome it was, I had it repolished and things to make it look new enough to have on stage.”

He fitted the guitar onto his lap, slinging his arm over the side of it as he began to test out a few cords before playing a slow, modern pop tune. At first he began humming, only to melt into the few lyrics that he could remember from the first verse though he slowed it down quite a bit from the original:

“Gravity’s holding me back, I want you to hold out the palm of your hand,

why don’t we leave it at that?” There was a slight pause in the lyrics he’d forgotten, filled with the gentle pluck of the strings as he hummed:

“Seems like you can’t be replaced, and I’m the one who will stay, oh.

In this world, it’s just us, you know it’s not the same as it was. As it was.”

As he remembered more he poured it over the guitar, a gentle melody that plucked amicably at the strings, a vast contrast from the original retro sound of the song. His eyes closed and his head tilted, a sad smile on his lips as the song came to a close:

“Go home, go ahead. Get high-speed internet, I don’t wanna talk about the way it was...

“Hi,” dead-panned Maja. She gazed up at the man who was Elias-but-not-Elias with crossed arms and a grimace. Whatever sympathy she had for the rockstar by the end of their encounter at Pride had dissipated with the latest news broadcast. A policeman. What a joke. For a second, as he stood in her doorway, she considered telling the pig to crawl back to his pen, but there was a part of her - an echo from her time with her husband - that still yearned for his touch, his understanding, his love. His. Elias. But this was Kakuzo. 

Had it been anyone else, Maja would’ve wished she’d changed out of her pajamas before his arrival, but her lack of effort in appearance felt like a silent act of protest. He didn’t deserve her in lip gloss. She wore a black velvet tank and a pair of bloomer shorts with the appliqué of a woman’s bra on the side. Her feet were bare.

“Well, come in…” she said, taking a couple steps back to allow him passage inside. Her apartment was a studio and left nothing to the imagination: golden pecan wood flooring, fluffy cloud-like rug beneath a pink velvet couch, dual computer monitors, an open closet stuffed to burst with clothing, queen-sized bed covered in Sanrio plushies and Squishmallows. Floaty periwinkle curtains were drawn against the setting sun. 

She led him to the sofa but did not take a seat. Fresh peonies stood blooming in a vase on the glass coffee table and strips of neon lights casted the room in an amber glow that melted with the creamsicle orange of the sun. Arms still crossed and one hip popped, she assessed him. Yet again, she was struck by how much he did not look like Elias. It wasn’t only a difference in appearance (which was great) but how Kakuzo carried himself. He was rough around the edges. Her eyes scanned slowly down his frame, pausing at the exposed strip of flesh between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his jeans. She wondered how many women he’d been with. 

Maja’s sight bumped back up to his eyes, clear and anxious. She looked at him closely. She had not realized how much she’d counted on seeing him again. Despite knowing that things were different now - that he was truly not Elias - somehow she’d still managed to nurture a childish hope that it wouldn’t matter, and that, miraculously, they would be able to go back to how things had been in the 70s. 

She shifted her weight from one hip to the other. “You’re a cop now, huh?” The doll couldn’t keep the venom from her tone. “Seems like a real downgrade, if you ask me.” 

⛧

Rarely did he ever feel like a wounded puppy. There were always consequences to his actions sure but he’d hardly cared for them. But even now, in a moment like this, where he’d done nothing wrong he still felt as if he was baring the heavy weight of guilt. With a light nod he made his way in, boots thudding against the wooden flooring. Acme eyes filtered around the space, he’d supposed this is what Maja would be like in this day in age. 

The illuminated monitors and sleek lighting that bordered the room poured out her modernism, she truly wasn’t the same but all the same at all at once. 

He was hesitant to settle on the velvet couch, hovering over the space he could settle until he finally couldn’t think of an excuse why he was simply standing there, staring, trying to drink her in all over again. Maja used to feel refreshing, like she was the crispness of an oceans cool waves on a hot day. But taking her in now felt like he was drowning, not sure if the feeling was suffered from his own actions.

His eyes finally perked in her direction, ‘You’re a cop now, huh?’ rang over him for a moment. For a brief moment he went to question how she’d known, only to remember his face settled next to the other in precinct at the press conference a few weeks ago. “Yeah, but, it’s a really long story. I wouldn’t consider me a real cop in the slightest. More like a guard dog with a good nose.”

It was a vain attempt to keep the mood light, and when it hadn’t he continued, words falling uselessly, like heavy bricks in his lap. “I got into some uh, trouble...back home. Ran out of options. I chose what kept me alive...and sane for the most part,” there was a pregnant pause, “you probably don’t really give a shit about that story anyways right? You’re pissed at me, I know but I really just don’t know what to say, or how to fix it.” Kakuzo met her with a defeated sigh, lifting his hands to express himself only for them to fall with a thud to his thighs.

Inconspicuous wasn’t really his tone. He could have gone for an unmarked car that belonged to the precinct, or ‘borrowed’ a vehicle from somewhere else to not seem so brazen. And yet here he was, barreling up the slick tar of the city streets towards the other’s shop. Dipped low in the seat of his smokey grey, Boss Hoss Cycle, licked with flames, Kakuzo pulled into the parking lot, coming to a rumbling stop in one of the parking spaces directly in front of the door. 

He’d always gotten a weird energy from here, as if the reminisce of something thick and slimy still coated the air, connected to the Alpha a strange way. Kicking the the stand down the bike tilted just slightly ajar on its side, the crunch of his boots turning as he lifted himself off it. The wolf shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather pants, strutting inside and straight past the lovely woman that sat at the desk. He gave her reaction a knowing grin, shooting her a wink before knocking slightly on the office door, then making his way inside without further invitation.

“Good afternoon Mr. Alpha Sir.” Kakuzo teased him, settling into one of the chairs across from where he’d sat at his desk, kicking his feet up comfortably. “Saw your little, oopsie in on my desk this morning,” he began, “I know the leak is bullshit Joon.”

He’d been sitting in his car for the better half of an hour, waiting. A part of him felt creepy, coming up with excuses to tell people if they came and knocked on his window, asking why he was watching the apartment window of some girl. His first thought was ‘I’m on the job’ but even in his hypotheticals he found that to be a bad idea. Finally he couldn’t wait any further, stepping out of his car and into the street, smoothing out his cropped band tee as he threw out the remaining butt of his cigarette. 

With a sigh he made his way inside, the building, reverting back to the crumpled reciept he’d written the address on before showering to make sure he was at the right apartment number, scanning the hall before he dipped into the elevator. His straight legged jeans hugged tight to his waist, hinged in the loops with a black studded belt that’d shown off the evolution in his ‘bad boy’ persona, even across decades. 

It felt as though bile had began to cling in his throat. The acid of it burning at the lining of it, tearing at it as if this was a bad omen. Opening up an old wound just as it closed just a few weeks ago. He knocked lightly on the door, stepping back, given away by the click of his boots as he exposed himself to more of the hall, suddenly anxious to see a face he’d known for two lifetimes now. 

“Uh hey...” was all he could manage when the doll came to open it, fear of rejection riddled in his bones for the first time since they’d met.

The music in the background and the screams from the crowd seemed to come from a place far away from them. For a moment, their surrounding seemed to have frozen in time. His beautiful eyes that seemed to bear some darkness that she could not grasp were still as gorgeous as ever and they evoked deeply burried feelings within her barely human body. Memories flashed by, it was overwhelming for her.

The moment his arms gently wrapped around her slender body, she felt like somebody had pulled her out of the trance of the past and brought her back the the present moment. Her arms naturally rested around his shoulders, pulling him even closer to her. It had been years since they last saw each other, embracing each other the way they did right now, yet it felt like no time had passed for the feelings they had for each other. A soft chuckled bounced off her black lips, as the other was obviously teasing her.

“Well, you know it’s not my style to take advantage of my groupies. But maybe I will make an exception for you because of your loyalty”, she gave him a playful wink while she was playing with his hair. Perhaps somebody else in her shoes would have demanded an explanation for his disappearance and confronted him with some dramatic guilt trip. However, things weren’t like that between. Organically they became friends and some time later, it was more than just friendship. It had never bothered them to clarify what it was and both just enjoyed it as it lasted. When he left the band without even a goodbye, she knew that it had nothing to do with them and just accepted it as it was.

“Oh, don’t try to fool me that you haven’t been naughty all this time and found yourself someone to help you with that”, the corner of her lips raised into a smug smirk on her face. The dim ligh of the club only made her gloomy face even more mysterious with her robotic, lilac eyes sparking in the dark. Pressing herself against his body, which felt so familiar, it ignited a fire within her, she leaned in to whisper in his ears, “But you’d better missed me. Or do you need a little reminder why you should have missed me?” Her lips the wandered to his neck to plant a soft kiss on his soft skin. His scent, an intoxicating mixture of cigarettes and his cologne, filled her body with desire. Before she knew it, she gently sucked on his neck.

“I guess old habits die hard”, she let out a melodic laughter, when she pulled away to look at him. Then she spun on her feet to take the shots that the bartender had placed on the table for them. She raised her glass with a bright smile on her lips, “Let’s drink on old habits then”

⛧

Idril had always reminded him of glory days. Not his glory days, but the term in itself. She was riding a high he could never come down from. One that was addicting, settled into the other substances that came with their lives as stars. She was the squeal of a guitar, piercing your ears and then the shift of scene as the crowd’s screams only served as background music to her moans. Idril had served as a comfort, and confidant all wrapped into the delicious bow of her body.

They were so young then, only attached to each other because who else could adequately understand? It was easier to wrap themselves in each other’s arms while the world screamed their names. She was the way the crowd swelled when the opening note was played and the way they begged for their return when the lights dimmed, and he supposed the previous concert had thrown him into the need to be reminded of that all over again.

“If you think I’m a group you must have forgotten who was leading our little ship back then.” He teased in return, tone husky behind his content sigh in the familiarity. He’d expected her to be like Maja, livid, scream, yell, beg, curse. Ask him where he’d gone and why had he been the only one to break the promise to stay in touch when they finally disbanded. He hadn’t gotten the chance to tell her how deep of trouble he was and had been in before he found himself in Seoul’s sister city.

She had been wrong, sort of. It wasn’t until recently Kakuzo found himself falling back into his old ways, his allure finding him in the beds and embedded in the heads of many. His hands slipped up her waist, teeth taking to his bottom lip as her lips ghosted over his skin, the familiar feeling only making him chuckle darkly at her brass. He let one of his hands wander up the curve of her back before tangling in the long tendrils of her dark, onyx strands, tugging lightly. “Hm, suddenly all that time I spent missing you never happened and I need a reminder.” Even then he brought her in, delicately kissing her forehead as his official ‘Hello, I’ve missed you,’ before following her to the bar. 

*

With his hands cradling her face, she could almost imagine that it was Elias holding her. She looked up at him through the blur of her tears. But, no, this was not Elias. This was not the face she had traced her hands over a thousand times, finger-painting him into her long-term memory; the face that belonged to the only man she’d ever loved. Maja looked away from him and at a weathered-looking poster board advertising a LGBTQ+ support group. 

Suddenly, a quaint Greek cafe sprung to her mind’s eye - golden light, blue tiles on the floor. She saw a version of herself posed at the table she and Elias always occupied, a cup of ellinikos kaffes before her. The white cloth was stained with drops of coffee-brown from when Elias had made her laugh so hard that her whole body shook and she’d sloshed her drink. She had liked that the stains never went away; though faded in the wash, the faint remnants of the spill remained, marking the table as theirs. And then a thought occurred to Maja that almost split her in two: she was still at the cafe, sitting cross-legged, waiting for Elias to join her. But he never did. He never would. After all these years, she was still right where he had left her. 

“No,” she said, staring him insolently in the eye. “You don’t get to put that burden on me… not after everything. I’ve never loved again, not since… since…” She shook her head. “I will never love again. You can’t fix that. I’ve been paying for your–” Pause. Hard swallow. “His death every fucking day of my life, and you…” She stepped out of his hands, trawling her gaze up and down his frame. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “You got to be a fucking rockstar. Must’ve been nice.”  

⛧

And for some reason his heart broke in his chest. Whatever had tethered him to Maja pulled taught, tugging and tugging trying to break the tie but it wouldn’t budge, just continued to pull pieces out of him, refusing to let go.

“What do you want me to say?” He asked her sternly, Kakuzo’s agitation for arguing threatening to bubble up but he swallowed it down. “Maja.” He said simply, letting his hands fall from her face in heavy defeat. “What can I even say? I didn’t die on purpose, you think I let those people drag me into the street?” He asked her honestly. The memory approached him, and this time it /hurt/. He could feel every punch, every kick, every burn of his tears as he thought of her. As called for her while blood pooled in his lungs until there was nothing left to do but to stare at the beautiful London sky. For once the clouds had withered away, for once the sun was shining and he didn’t even get to watch it set. If he could move he would have crawled to her, used every inch of strength left to see her one last time.

“I wanted to come to you, I laid there, I laid there and until my very last breath I thought of you.” The faint light in his eyes dimmed just slightly, whatever had possessed him was starting to scurry away, hurt and scared. “That’s not how this works.” He finally said after a beat. “I don’t get to come back and remember. I begged her, I begged her to let me come back to you but all she could say is if my soul truly wanted you I’d find my way back. I was born again, on the other side of the world. I-I lived an entirely different life, I-,” ‘would have given it all up had i known you’d been waiting all this time.’

At fifteen years old all he could think of was getting away from his father. The shrill of the guitar brought a high cocaine and weed could never replicate. But there was no drug or vice that could give him the euphoria being in love with the doll had given him. “You think I chose it? That’s what you think? That I abandoned you? That I decided that I was better off without you is that what you-“ Before he could finish a strong hand gripped his shoulder, angrily Kakuzo spun around, who in their right mine would ask for a photo right now? The big broad chest of his security came face to face with him.

*

But. 

Maja stood motionless and let the word hang in the air. The tears tracked hot and fast down her face, dropping to the pavement like a shower of acid rain. She could have killed him. She could have kissed him. 

She heard people laughing, faintly, somewhere in the distance. 

“Well,” she said at last. Despite knowing Elias’ ability to reincarnate, she had not prepared herself for this possibility. And what she felt, standing there, was not anger or excitement but only a wretched longing, a horrible, humiliating hunger she had not felt since Elias’ death. It was the doom of wanting something she knew would never be hers. Even worse, the man she’d loved with the burning ferocity of the sun, the man she’d desired to spend the rest of eternity with, was right there. But he wasn’t. 

But.  

I can’t stand this, her voice sounded amid the black buzzing in her head. I need to go, but she stood there, and the smaller and sicker she felt as she looked into the musician’s eyes. I love him, she thought. I love him still. 

“What now?” asked Maja, weakly. 

⛧

“Well.” He repeated not sure what to say. Instead he just stood there, tracking the tears that scrolled down her pretty skin with his smokey iris’. Kakuzo could feel them beginning to burn, suddenly overwhelmed with a grief of someone he hadn’t even known he’d lost, and so long ago. He’d lived this life for almost thirty years and for some reason Zeus had chosen now to plague his great grand with such a traumatic fate.

“Maja I-,” every word he intended on saying kept dying on his lips. Her name felt foreign on his tongue, one he’d never uttered before in this life time. And yet it felt like it perfectly molded into the curve of his lips like it belonged there.

He’d been so wrapped up in her swarm that he’d forgotten the world had continued to move around them.

He shook his head, this time letting his hands slide up the sides up her neck and cradle her face, swiping the tears away with his thumbs. “I don’t know, I don’t know what we do now. Do I say I’m sorry? Do we start over? Do you want to start over? Do I ask you about life,” he tried to chuckle but his throat had gone dry. “What do you want...I’ll do anything you want I promise.” Kakuzo wasn’t sure where those words came from either, but they buried beneath the soot and debris that was his lives, pulling them out of the ashes to present to her, whether she’d taken them or not hadn’t mattered.

*

Maja’s flesh crawled, remembering the patient, almost humorous way he had indulged her, placing one hand on her knee and the other on her thigh, sneaking up the hem of her sun dress. He’d given her upper thigh a squeeze, which made her squeal and Elias laugh. “Not funny!” She had opposed with a pout, but by then, she was laughing too. She remembered the way his head had felt against her belly. The soft grip she had on his dark, glossy hair. The warm sun on her face. 

Maja took a few tentative steps toward the musician, closing the gap between them once and for all. She took his face in her hands. Her heart, which had earlier thrashed against her chest, was now merely limping. A broken, pitiful muscle praying to be put out of its misery. Maja gazed up at him thoughtfully.

“Is it…” said Maja in an undertone, “Really you?” She continued to inspect his face as if the answer would reveal itself there, but this man looked nothing like her Elias. But it had to be him, oh, Gods, how she wanted it to be him. 

“You know,” she said, and her voice was distant even to her own ears, “I would’ve waited for you forever.” Her hands dropped limply to her sides, and she realized, with quite a shock, that she was crying. She had not cried in decades and thought she’d mastered complete control over such a discomfiting mortal outburst. Tears streaked her cheeks. “Forever.”

⛧

It was as if someone else had taken the reigns of his body. A marionette on a string he was moving and recalling memories that had never shown up in his brain in his almost twenty-eight years. Something was off, something was different, he’d never had to fight for control of his own mind before, but something wanted him to remember, remember every moment down to the time on the clock so many decades ago. 

His heart tore and ached at the image of a Grecian beach. The flow of a short white dress, moving along in the wind as the sea crashed into the shore. He was elated, overwhelmed with a happiness that could never be replicated as he slipped the pretty ring onto her finger. She’d eyed it behind the glass of a small shop, and he knew then it’d hold his spot in her life forever. He’d hoped for forever.

Even as the ocean breeze blew white curtains to the ceiling of the beach side bungalow. Maja’s pretty moans joining the roar of the ocean as they made love in the fleeting light of the sun. He’d whispered ‘I love you,’ in every language he’d known as he pressed kisses along her tanned skin. It was never warm like his own and he’d grown to love it.

But right now her finger tips felt like a blaze on his skin, boring heat into borrowed flesh pulling tears from his own eyes even if he begged them not to fall. He felt her hurt as her hands slumped to her sides, he’d broken her all over again. “If I had known...i-if I had remembered I would have came back to you...you know I would have. But-,” ‘I’m not him any more,’ never fell from his lips like the rest of his words.

Just dance? He could have sat out front if he just wanted him to dance. Nuri pouted as he did as he was told. “You sure that’s all you want? I promise I can be a really good boy if you ask me to.” He found his way to the pole as he hooked his leg around it and began to twirl. He came down and settled into a split. He prided himself on his flexibility and pole skills. He knew not her man rivaled him when it came to his pole work and he wanted to show this handsome, rich, stranger just what his money could buy him.

He licked his lips before he came out of his split, and making his way back to the pole. He swayed to the music before grabbing the pole with both hands and flipping himself upside down before moving into a spinning chopper. He masterfully moved into an eye opener before slinking down to the ground again. “Do you want to touch me? You can. I’m yours for the whole night. We can do whatever you want.” He spoke as he crawled back over to him, face dangerously close to his crotch. “Should I keep dancing?”

⛧

Kakuzo leaned back on his hands, spreading his legs comfortably to watch. His eyes tracked the others movements, watching as pretty skin danced underneath the glow of the room. The club lights did him no justice. Kuzo had fallen into the trap from the shadows of the club, it was easy to see how his long legs and impeccable physique could entrap you from up-close. It was hypnotizing, a nauseating sight that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from. He was deep into it now, leaning up on his elbows resting on the tops of his knees only to be thwarted by his approach. “I just like watching you.”

Baby was dangerous. He crept into his psyche and burrowed into his frontal lobe so that every sense he’d had attached to it was blinded. As he settled down on the floor between his thighs, Kakuzo, hellbent on keeping his hands to himself, relented, allowing delicate fingers sliding up the curvature of his face. Grey iris’ poured over his features, digging through the mirth of the other’s eyes trying to figure out if he felt what he was feeling.

The serious expression dipped into something darker as he decided that he couldn’t play the game any more. Instead he would indulge, no matter what darkness that threatened to shed over them. “How much to take you home with me?”

*

Maja reacted to those words like she’d been choked and put a hand over her throat. “There’s…” She started, voice surprisingly hoarse. “How do you…” 

And then, all at once, she was raging mad. “Fuck you,” she spat, stomping up to him. “I don’t know who you are or how you know that, but you can fuck right off to hell.” Dark magic whirled in her eyes like clouds in a cup of bottomless coffee. A threat. A promise. For a fleeting moment, this man - this stranger - had sounded like Elias. Even the smile was reminiscent of her husband’s, bright and warm as the midday sun. But that couldn’t be. This crass, overrated musician was nothing like her beloved, not in looks or demeanor. More to the point, Elias was dead. Elias was… Maja swallowed hard. “Is this… are you…” She’d known Elias was the son of a goddess when she married him, but she had never truly grasped the magnitude of his powers or what reincarnation - something he’d once told her he was capable of - would look like. In the wake of her widowhood, she’d consoled herself with the idea that he would find her if he was indeed out there wearing a new face and name. It’s what she would have done. When that didn’t happen, Maja told herself he was no longer in this realm because the alternative was too heartbreaking. Maja considered using her supernatural command to compel the white-haired man to explain what was happening. Give her the whole truth. A lump formed in her throat. She had promised Elias that she would never rob him of his autonomy, would never use her magical coercion on him. If this man was, in some part, her husband… And so Maja did what she always did when she didn’t know what to do: she ran her mouth. “Fuck you, asshole.”

♞

her sudden outburst almost made him jump out of his skin. the confusion and anger meddled into the concept of her overwhelming grief and sadness fell over him like a weighted wave. his shoulders sagged heavily, and for once the anxiousness of what to say next was rolling around in the pits of his stomach.

what does he say? he doesn’t even fully understand why he even repeated those words. why the movie reel of the greecian summer was falling from his lips in time like captions. but it felt right, in the wrongest way possible. 

his name. his real name. would it cover up the grief riddled confusion in her eyes? as she yelled at him he couldn’t help the familiarity, the scene of him gripping wrists lovingly as she spat vicious words in his direction. he’d never been the one to argue. simply he’d pulled her close to his chest, whispering a gentle i’m sorry into sandy brown strands as they rocked beneath the blue hue that casted over the sun through the shudders of their tiny apartment.

instead, words vomitted from his lips as the memories came back in chunks. “pink floyd, led zeplin, deep purple and the talking heads in ‘79, you were wearing,” he paused screwing his eyes shut trying to push through the memory, “a white dress with blue flowers, ‘hold on to my knees you idiot, do you want me to die.’ “ he repeated her words as a smile painted over his lips the image of her on his shoulders during the festival. 

he finally huffed, “elias.”

Nuri didn’t necessarily believe that the man had already planned on paying him to spend the night with him. He watched the handsome stranger night after night sitting and watching him. Normally, he’d be a bit perturbed by the behavior but there was something about his stare that reeled him in. He wanted his eyes on him. But even more he wanted his hands on him. It was extremely rare for him to see a patron and get so turned on by just the thought of sharing an hour or so them. But Nuri was prone to getting what he wanted and he wanted this man. Getting paid was a perk.

A Manicured hand reached out and opened the door. Turning to face the other man, he grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. “I want to dance for you.” He grinned, slowly. He pressed Kuzo onto the bed and sauntered over to the pole. Music already filled the room. An R&B song with a sensual groove filled the room as he danced around the pole. His left leg hooked around the pole as he spun around the metal rod. 

The faerie unhooked his leg, strutting over to the other man. He turned his back to him and began to grind against him, arm reaching back to hook around his neck. “Tell me what you want. Your wish is my command.” He purred, sitting in his lap. He rolled his hips, tossing his head back and releasing a moan. His sounds were usually rehearsed but this was real. His body was on fire as he pressed against him. 

⛧

kakuzo watched ‘baby’ walk away for a moment. his mind went through the various scenarios he’d pleasured himself thinking about, how often he found himself there when truly the demi-god hadn’t been interested in anyone since his previous lives. those who came and went in his new orbit were simply pawns in his timeline. fun nights wrapped in the arms of someone pretty but the dancer he’d spent most of his off nights watching from afar had beckoned a hunger for much more than that.

knocking back the rest of his drink kakuzo slipped from his stool to follow, adjusting his blazer as he kept a close distance behind them. the air shifted with jealousy, forcing a smirk across his lips as they moved, wondering if the vessel that carried such a feeling was more upset that he’d taken such a divine specimen for himself, or the fact that baby had gotten to him before they could.

with the door shutting behind them the fleeting thoughts of the others were left in the main floor with it. it finally was just the two of them, and he got just a small amount of his true desire. his teeth worried his bottom lip, settling down on the edge of the bed. his palms planted firmly on the distasteful douvet, leaning back on them as his thighs spread wide comfortably. the beast that lingered behind his eyes bubbled beneath his chest, begging for him to sate his hunger. soon. he tells it, only if his new target was fine with detouring to a more suitable location.

“just dance... for now.” kuzo commanded, offering not to touch the smaller male until he had permission. his scent radiated with a whimsical sweetness that was just shy of intoxicating. an elf...or fairy of some sort the way his skin danced and sparkled beneath the light, something he’d never gotten the pleasure to sink his teeth in before.

💭

Truly inspiring, she thought and was certain her thoughts were clear within her eyes, pressed within her expression, damn near floating in a blinking bubble above her head. Not purposely transparent, but there was point in pretending what she wanted wasn’t right before her. That certain question, and that fucking pull without effort, all wrapped in a box that felt like it would kill with the smallest grin. How fucking delightful, how positively scrumptious, and oh, did she want a bite. 

A matched grin met the tease in his gaze, sure there was a double meaning in his words. “To be certain, there are no others of my kind”, she answered speaking beyond species, rank or her insurmountable wealth. “But I do play nice when given the right toys”, she added, hand passing his skin to take hold of the chain briefly, teeth passing over her bottom lip as his mirth erupted at her ear. More than laughter so close she craved, this morsel widening that inkling that he fit that very narrow margin. 

Her eyes lifted to his gaze, holding still her transparent want with the passing of her nail on the underside of the chain along his skin to answer one question. The title produced a small titter. “That is already clear. What’s left on the table is how”, she paced, voice almost at a whisper, “when, and”, she said leaning to his lowered head, cheek coming close before she eased back, nail dragging from his skin as she brought proper space between them, eyes glancing back to the painting and his placed dot.

She left her statement unfinished, eyes closing for a moment to temper herself before opening and stepping to the next painting, the last in that exhibit. “I could just give you one. Something fitting that elicits the right response”, she began then turned to look back at him, “at any octave.”  The phone within her bag vibrated, her right hand slipping within to retrieve it. Faced with the obedient curator’s message she grinned, appreciating her understanding of the situation. To her current focus she looked back while tapping out a response, “no full answer to any of my questions. Alright”, she said looking down, a simple emoji reacting the the response given. “Do I smile and wave the next time I feel your pull about the city?” Her eyes set again on him. “Worry not, I’m not going to have someone look into you, even if you insist on teasing. That’s not fun but you know, there are other ways to do that.”

⛧

“for someone who’s used to playing such a strategic game it seems like when someone plays back, it’s equally enticing as it is surprising, isn’t it?” his hands stayed stationed in the pockets of the stark black slacks, smoky grey eyes only drifting down to her hands then back up to her own orbs, standing firmly into his ground. she was more than interesting, she was a small taste of something he could crave more of, that was, if she could handle the way he meandered around things.

a smirk stuck to his lips, only the gentlest puff of air from his nostrils at her words, not enough to garner a full chuckle from him. “i hope i’m a considerably right toy then my queen?” it was only now did he pull a hand from his pants, daring to touch her back, a delicate and deliberate finger drifting up her forearm as she held tightly to his chain as if it’d become her leash. 

he wasn’t exactly sure which direction their encounter was heading but he’d follow it which ever way he had to, a little fun in his investigations is what he yearned for.

“and what’s the fun in you just giving it to me?” he didn’t remove his hand as she checked her phone, firmly planted in his space before the vamprie queen. silence befell them, only for a moment as kuzo re-closed the space she’d created, “for the sake of formalities, black.”  he gave the pseudo surname, “and i’d hope you did much more  than smile and wave the next time i start dragging you back to me by every crystal around your neck.”  his tone was husky and almost demanding in her ear, deep and oozing every chill his aura seemed to create when he was in the room.

*

She’d had plenty of men and women tell her that she was driving them crazy. Crazy with longing, crazy with lust. And in those circumstances she’d either taken them to bed or brushed them aside with a roll of her big brown eyes and a curt ‘and how is that my problem?’ None of which seemed like the proper response now. She said nothing. 

She let the white-haired musician flounder, hoping that in his unsure garble a pearl of truth (a half-truth, even) would reveal itself to her. It never did. She had presumed that he knew what was going on but now he seemed only marginally more aware than she. This allowed her to regain some composure despite the fireworks in her belly. 

“Maja,” she said flatly. “My name is Maja.” 

She didn’t know what she’d gain or lose from this revelation. In any other circumstance, she might have turned on her heel and gone home but that was very much not an option. She doubted she’d even be able to move if she tried. For a space of a second, Maja wondered if there was something mystical going on. Something cosmic. Had a witch casted a spell? Were the gods playing a cruel joke? Was some other being pulling the strings? All seemed notably more plausible to Maja than the reality she was forced to contend with, which was, as far as she could discern, this: these horrible, conflicting feelings erupting within her were organic, her own. 

She looked up at the man’s face again, searching. There was an electric current running between them, so potent that she thought if she just reached out she might be able to touch it. It was dark and powerful but also strangely comforting. It was shelter from a bad storm. Long, sure fingers caressing a tear-stained cheek. Grecian sunsets and apricot juice and blood stains on fine silk. 

⛧

the mention of her name brought the vivids that made up his current world deep into his past. it rifled through all the files that he had stored away and spat out the photos. the sepia melting away to vivid memories that sent his entire world into a tail spin. 

this had to be a bad omen, kakuzo had already begun to be wrapped around the fingers of an exotic dancer that he couldn’t shake. so why had the universe brought back the visuals of strolling through the grecian city streets? hand in hand beneath the setting sun as summer threatened to pour in. it had been a warm spring, but the flowers had bloomed all the same, bright boisterous colors that could only be reflected in being present for its viewing. 

summer of ‘70, chocolate brown slacks, a woolish polo top and a purple vest. he could remember the smell of cigarettes and a beautiful face that he couldn’t erase from his mind. the sun beamed down on the orange paint of his 1970 Fiat 500L as he leaned against it, the smoke of the stick breezing into the air between them. he’d seen her in the market just a few days ago picking up things for his mother, and perceived it only as fate when he approached her with those stupid words,

“a girl like you, on an afternoon like this? aphrodite must have the hots for me.” kakuzo said out loud, the same bashful smile breaching his lips as if that version of him had immerged just for a moment, in hopes to get her to remember such a fleeting memory as well. 

*

Maja gazed up at the white-haired man, face as smooth and transparent as a pane of glass, not betraying her inner tempest. Now that he stood before her, the feeling she’d gotten while watching him on stage amped up to a discomfiting degree. Her atoms seemed to vibrate. Her blood rushed like lava in her veins. Something about this man had doused Maja’s brain in gasoline and being near him was like lighting a match. It took most of her strength to remain calm. 

The more she observed him, the less it made sense. She didn’t know him. They had never met before. And yet, he had searched for her out of the vast crowd of his adoring fans and various event goers; he’d approached her with an abrupt and rudely phrased query - surely this meant that whatever was going on, he was feeling it. She wasn’t the only one. This put Maja on edge.

She’d always felt insecure about the absences in her memory. Though she had a solid 121 years cataloged in her hippocampus, there were still decades - centuries! - of which she had no recollection and no conceivable chance of recovering. Simply knowing there might be people out there who knew more about her history than she did made her want to puke up the gyeran-ppang she’d had for lunch. Was he one of those people? His initial question made her predisposed to say no, but the expression his handsome face had taken after seeing her up close made her reconsider. His marble grey eyes went from steely inquisition to sudden understanding, like fat storm clouds dissolving from a now crystal clear sky. It made her want to scream. How is it that he seemed to put the puzzle together so quickly while she struggled to find the right pieces?

“Why does it matter,” she said, her voice sounding distant to her ears, “who I am?”

It did matter. It mattered a lot to Maja, but she didn’t want her fear, her need, her desire exposed to this… stranger. But that was the crux of this whole odd scene, she realized. He didn’t at all feel like a stranger. She resumed gazing at his face as though the answer she was searching for would appear on the tan skin. Her dark eyes traced the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the way his hair parted and fell. Nothing about these features rang a bell. It had to be something intrinsic - something within. She imagined digging her bubble-gum pink nails into his chest and prying it apart in a bloody snap of bone, divining the truth from his organs like a Greek haruspex. But she was no oracle. 

He clearly knew something about her - something about them - that she did and would not know unless he decided to divulge it to her. Maja’s head pounded. What a horrible thing, she mused, to be at the mercy of this stranger who was not a stranger. 

⛧

he’d come across many creatures in his short lives as a walker on the earth. sure the underworld had an influx of who ever deserved their home of hell from all over the galaxy but none of them mad him feel like this. there was no witch on the earth that could snuff his nose the way she did, as if every identifying power he had had suddenly just ceased to exist. her iris’ bore into his skin, digging into his flesh like rogue bullets and forced him to take each level of annihilation. like she knew too much, but the concern on her face made him feel mistaken? no, his instincts were hardly ever mistaken.

the way she responded sent a dagger to his heart, it pierced the flesh so easily, a steel knife into an already gaping wound. little did he know it had been left by her a lifetime ago. back when his end was across continents, nestled in the growing villages of europe and yet he couldn’t find those reels in his mind. why did they only return in bits and pieces and why did she feel like a home he’d never been to.

“it matters because you’re driving me crazy.” his charm and silky smoothness had escaped him. he only knew frustration now, unable to con his way into her mind or smugly tease his way into her psyche, and that was infuriating. even more so when the words died on his lips. the rolodex in his brain  flipping and flipping and flipping only to come up empty handed. it was all hazy and uncomfortable, forcing his stomach to be taught and knotted.

maybe he had been too forward, how did he switch it all back on again? he’d forgotten, she’d turned his brain into a garbled mess and the options of refuge had become fleeting.

his voice lacked its usual confident superiority, as if he was a teenage boy trying to be funny and coy. “your name-, i don’t even know how to explain how i feel right now but,” the rest of the words died on his lips.