Chapter 43 (M)

There was no haste, no alarms, and no worry.

The sounds of his mother entering the bathroom to start her morning weren't heard, and the anxiety that he felt whenever he heard it was absent due to its absence. Usually, Ari would take it as a sign to force himself out of bed and start making her coffee so that she didn't spend the rest of the day irritated at him.

But instead he woke up without the need to be aware of his mother's fluctuating moods, and he didn't need to listen intently to discern if she woke up calm or annoyed to prepare himself for what's to come.

All he woke up to was the warmth of a bed and a quiet room that made any anxieties that normally arose whenever he opened his eyes instantly dissipate. It was almost foreboding because of how good it felt, and it made him wonder if people usually woke up like that regularly.

He wanted to wake up every day like that.

Looking beside him, he couldn't help his lips from twitching up at the amusing sight. Limbs were strewn around getting into Ari's space without actually taking away from his comfort, wreaking havoc as they did so, and it made Ari realize that the usually composed and shrewd killer was actually a restless sleeper.

If Ari didn't actually see him covered in blood and tossing away limbs, he'd probably think it was cute.

There were two types of knives that Constantine often carried, and they were tossed aside carelessly beside him tempting anyone to take ahold of them.

Ari found himself drawn to them as he reached out for the jagged one taking a liking to it, and straddled the sleeping killer underneath him as he did so.

There was a certain feeling he felt as he looked down at the, usually terrifying, man who plagued his head. Ari's hand brushed over Constantine's collarbone and he let out a shuddering breath at the warmth that came from his hand coming into contact with Constantine's skin.

It felt as if his hand burned at the small insignificant contact. It was as if he wasn't allowed to, like it was forbidden to touch him like that, but his hand still went up so his thumb could trace his twisted lover's throat.

"I could kill you right now." He said unaware that his musings were verbalized.

Ari was fixated on the thrill of having someone so helpless under him. Someone so powerfully scary and seemingly unstoppable, yet right there under his mercy.

Bringing the knife closer, Ari toyed with the idea of what it was like to slice someone's throat as he ran the back of the knife through Constantine's.

Harmlessly wicked, he had always been the former, but the latter is a newly discovered side of him.

"No, no, no." A hand pulled Ari's hand away and he realized that Constantine had been aware of him this whole time. For some reason, there was no fear instilled in him when Constantine's hand went up to his neck the same way Ari's did for him earlier. His thumb traced Ari's throat while his other hand sneakily took the knife away before his thumb pressed on a certain spot making Ari swallow nervously. "You cut it here. It's more effective."

And as if he was demonstrating, he did it again with an almost slow sensual touch to it.

They both knew Ari didn't have it in him to actually do it.

"Why like that?" Ari couldn't help but wonder, and he was given a peck on the lips just because of how cluelessly adorable he was.

"You don't want me to have a chance of surviving, do you?"

Ari frowned tilting his head in confusion. "Aren't you afraid I might actually do it?"

"The thought of being killed by you is more appealing than you think." Constantine told him coolly, casually, like he was actually excited by the prospect and Ari found himself being pulled down so his neck was in full access to Constantine whose fangs teased to nick his skin. "Besides, the knife you chose screams of your inexperience."

"But I thought," Ari's voice shook when he felt hands trail up his thigh, groping him. "I thought they were the same. They're all knives."

A laugh escaped Constantine, who abandoned his favorite spot to look up at Ari. "You use a jagged knife to cause pain, not kill. Not usually."

"Oh." Ari let out breathlessly not really listening.

Not that he didn't want to, but it was hard to listen when all he could think about is how he desperately wanted to be touched more. The kisses returning to his neck were very much welcome, and there might have been a cautious nibble here and there, but Ari was done with being cautious.

Caution never really worked, not when he's doomed already.

Besides, caution wouldn't have brought him here to begin with, and he hated the idea of that. Couldn't stand it.

So when a hand sneaked up behind him pulling his hair, he welcomed it. The hungry kiss he got was eagerly returned, and the fact that this time Constantine bit him hard enough there to cut his lip only succeeded in making him mewl from a jolt of pleasure.

It seemed like Constantine enjoyed mixing his taste with his blood, and it was as if he was feasting on him rather than kiss him. Not like Ari minded or cared, he was having a feast of his own.

All of him was getting too hot, and Ari wanted to voice out that he wanted more, but he couldn't, so he just dug his nails into the exposed parts of the back of Constantine's neck and the message was clear.

There was nothing gentle about the way Constantine handles him sometimes, and the fact that Ari found his face pressed to the bed made him loudly gasp in surprise at the suddenness of it all. Sudden, but very much desired along with the roughness of it.

Certain clothes were discarded, and they were tossed away like an unwanted presence they couldn't wait to get rid of.

Once again, Ari found himself in a situation where he was stripped out of control and forced to trust Constantine not to hurt him. The vulnerability of that moment excited him, and he took a fistful of the sheets under him to brace himself for more, and more came without him ever feeling prepared for it.

Yet he still itched for it.

With every move, every touch, and each friction he felt tingles run all over his body as he sank further into a soft surface that drowned all the sounds he was making. There was nothing audible other than his whimpers, and he cried from how recklessly he chased after every loving gesture. It seemed like Constantine was adept in the art of appreciating him in all the right ways while still giving him a treatment as jagged as his knives.

Or maybe he just knew how Ari wished to be loved, but did it matter?

All that mattered was how seamlessly Constantine's fingers fit with his when he felt a hand slip on top of his and hold it. Everything was so soothing about it.

It didn't matter that this hand was responsible for the deaths of many, and it didn't matter how brutal it could be. It also didn't matter when he felt a peck on his neck, Ari still had the capacity to realize what was happening.

They might be driven by lustful instincts, but they both weren't ones to be enslaved by it. It was a deliberate affectionate gesture that softly asked for something with grave consequences that might break or make everything.

An irreversible thing, a thing he could easily ignore and pretend he never understood.

After all, in all the pleasure he was drunk on, he didn't seem like he had the capacity to think to even decide on anything.

In all actuality, Ari's mind wasn't at all muddled. It was as sharp and clear as it ever was, and the choice had been the easiest one he had ever made the moment he decided to disregard everyone and their happiness to chase his own.

He made a strained sound as he attempted to push himself up, and he was allowed to do so when he felt the pressure that was holding him still lifting up.

Constantine might have always been the one to be able to physically take control, but it was Ari who shattered that with the simplest of moves.

"My mother will kill me." He told him as he felt himself be pushed back down lightly by the shoulder.

"Not of I killed her first." Constantine hummed tracing his thumb on a spot he really liked, an unconventional spot, but it was his favorite. "Besides, I don't think anyone would know."

Not paying attention to the fixation on the spot connecting his neck to his shoulders, Ari turned his head in confusion wondering how nobody would notice a large bitemark on the back of his neck.

"You can go ahead."

He wasn't prepared for the feeling of something prick him in the neck making him feel like he was electrified in his place. It shocked him, it left him shaken, and he tried to gather himself as he felt a tongue drink up the blood that dripped as if it was a sweet nectar that spilled out of him.

The whole bitemark thing was mostly symbolic. There was no need for a mark to be a whole bite for it to claim him. It was just a message for others to stay away.

A single fang did the work, too, but it was a quieter more subtle way of claiming him. It could be passed off as a mole if anybody had noticed it at all.

And just like that, Ari was his.