Phantom in the Shadows
folder
+. to F › DNAngel
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,975
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
+. to F › DNAngel
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,975
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own DNAngel, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Phantom in the Shadows
Pairing: KradxDark
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Yaoi, smut, questionable consent, explained strange event.
Notes: Anime-verse, post series.
Phantom in the Shadows
As much as Dark Mousy enjoys a good life or death fight, he always hates the inevitable anti-climax to it. When all is settled, his adrenaline is still pumping through his body, his heart still pounding and his senses still desperately trying to locate where the next attack may come from. Even though he knows there are no more.
Now it's all over and he's in the darkness once more. He should be able to settle his body quickly and fall into the slumber that will break when his next host body is ready.
Dark should be able to sleep. But he can't. Because those hands are on him. Those hands he can't see at all, even though the source appears to be right in front of him. Even though they're all over him; on his cheek, trailing down his neck. Somehow getting underneath his clothing to slide over the muscles on his chest and stomach. Then all of a sudden they're on his thighs, pushing down harder, then up right between his legs and Dark finds himself infuriated at how the touch isn't as unwanted as he would expect.
He knows it's Krad. There isn't anything else that could possibly reach out and touch him in this state. What he doesn't know is exactly how he's doing it. Dark's immediate guess is that it's something to do with a Hikari artifact that he has somehow managed to manipulate. But he's never given the opportunity to ponder much further. Because then the hands do something, and suddenly his back is arched and his head is thrown back, mouth hung open in a moan that he won't allow out.
Sometimes he can feel long strands of hair brushing against his cheek. But whenever he reaches out to yank it, Dark finds himself grabbing at thin air and scraping his fingers against his own skin.
Dark keeps trying to grab the hands on his body as well. But they too are also never touched upon, no matter how quick his reflexes. In the darkness he should be sleeping in, he can't even see his own hand right in front of his nose, something Dark finds very unsettling. But Dark manages to morph that disturbance of the senses into persistence and he continues to grab at the hands on his body and strike out in front of him, determined to close his fingers around some sort of solid form and fight back. Because if Krad wants to mess with him, he'll mess right back.
But there's still nothing before him, or beside him, or behind him. Nothing he can touch, not even in the slightest. Nothing he can strike or push against to get Krad off him. Dark is also becoming horribly aware of how his head is lolled back and his mouth hanging open. He's moaning now, moving his hips as the hand between his legs continues to press and stroke. His trousers, designed to perfectly outline his figure, are becoming too tight. That is until he feels them being slid off his hips and he sighs in the relief it brings.
Then there is the unmistakeable feeling of a tongue pressing against his neck. Krad's tongue. Running up and behind his earlobe, making him suddenly realise how hot his skin is. He utters a short, sharp cry as teeth suddenly close around his ear. Dark hunches his shoulders and turns his head, but is still unable to touch Krad, even though he can feel him half an inch away from his nose. Krad's voice is in his ear, whispering as he asks how it feels. As the question is spoken, the hand between his legs squeezes and Dark moans before he can stop himself, perfectly providing the answer.
As soon as the tongue leaves his earlobe, Dark can feel it in his mouth. It's something he reacts to, aware of how foolish he must look if there were any possibility of a spectator. But he won't allow Krad to win. He knows he must beat him at something. So he pushes back against the tongue in his mouth with his own. Battles it for that bit of dominance. And Dark knows that he's winning. He can feel a sense of frustration snaking into the darkness around him and smirks. He continues to push back against Krad's tongue and laughs when he's sure he hears a faint snarl.
But Dark's victory is short lived. As Krad loses the fight with his tongue, he turns his attention back to Dark's hips, thighs and everything between. That's when Dark suddenly realises that his legs have spread and becomes aware once again of the heat rushing across his cheeks and down.
The hand suddenly leaves his cock and Dark wonders why there is a quick jolt in his chest. But that turns into a dizzying rush that blurs his senses and makes him arch his back when he feels something inside him. Fingers; pushing and wriggling, making Dark shout into nothing. Despite being in an empty darkness, he somehow gets the feeling that he's laying on his back, writhing and yelling. He can feel Krad's weight upon him. There is still the breath on his face and the tongue alternating at its leisure between his mouth, his ear, his throat. The whispers, which provoke the sharp tingling underneath his skin and the pulsing between his legs, are still there. Krad's hair still brushes against his cheek. So close. Yet he still can't grasp a single thing.
It isn't fair. On the other hand, fighting fairly was something Krad was always highly against. In turn, it was something Dark hated when he could see no way of getting any sort of upper hand.
Any hope of that upper hand suddenly being gained is suddenly lost when he feels something where the fingers were. Something that definitely isn't fingers. He screams when it happens, a sound that stutters off into a moan, floating away into the darkness that doesn't even have an echo. At the same time he feels Krad's teeth bite down right on the base of his neck. He sees a flash in front of his vision and all of a sudden Dark's head is spinning. Krad's hips move between his parted legs. There is a fresh gasp of breath against Dark's neck with every thrust, each one becoming more forceful.
Already knowing what a failed effort it is, Dark reaches up only to find that Krad is still apparently nothing but emptiness before him. There isn't any ground underneath him to grip in an attempt to keep himself rooted to reality, so Dark is left unsure on what to do with his hands. He settles for one to reach between his legs to grab his cock, intent on finishing what Krad had started. The other arm is left to flail aimlessly and be put out of Dark's mind.
At that point any order of things is lost and Dark only becomes aware of the briefest flashes zooming through his mind before they are lost to him. Krad's hips slamming against his, his movements almost animalistic. Him moaning and shouting loudly, trying to dislodge the lump of something in his throat that kept jolting up. The breath against his neck and the nips on his collarbone, and, for a brief second, he wonders whether they will still be there when he is reawakened. His own hand, which seemed to have gained a mind of its own as it ran up and down his length, squeezing and rubbing. He's panting heavily. He's not even sure if his eyes are shut or not.
He realises he is within the wave of an orgasm quicker than he had hoped. Coherent thought briefly pipes up through the whirling haze in his mind, thinking that Krad is able to work some wonders. It's a process of thought he quickly puts a stop to when he realises he's giving a compliment. But, unwanted thoughts or not, Dark could still hear the laughter and jibes in his ear, making him want to try striking out again to attempt some sort of damage. Krad is well aware that Dark is unable to touch him, and makes that the focus of his teasing.
The thrusting into his body keeps going and Dark continues to writhe underneath the weight he could feel upon him, hating the fact that he's starting to love every moment of it. All of a sudden he wants Krad's tongue back in his mouth. Because that was a fight he was able to win. And that was exactly why Krad wasn't going to grant him such a thing.
He felt Krad's body shudder violently against his own. Then he's vaguely aware that he is screaming as there is the briefest flash of white before his eyes. His body jolts, his nerves jostle frantically, then all of a sudden reality smashes into him. Dark is aware that he is still alone where he should be sleeping. At least alone in the sense of him being the only present form.
Words coming in his ear again aren't heard properly as Dark starts to feel Krad's presence leaving him. His body becomes heavy, especially his eyelids.
Dark doesn't remember closing his eyes to sleep for unknown decades until the next host body for the phantom thief is ready. But he does know that he will get his own back on Krad. If Krad wants to fuck with him, Dark will find a way to fuck right back.
END
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Yaoi, smut, questionable consent, explained strange event.
Notes: Anime-verse, post series.
Phantom in the Shadows
As much as Dark Mousy enjoys a good life or death fight, he always hates the inevitable anti-climax to it. When all is settled, his adrenaline is still pumping through his body, his heart still pounding and his senses still desperately trying to locate where the next attack may come from. Even though he knows there are no more.
Now it's all over and he's in the darkness once more. He should be able to settle his body quickly and fall into the slumber that will break when his next host body is ready.
Dark should be able to sleep. But he can't. Because those hands are on him. Those hands he can't see at all, even though the source appears to be right in front of him. Even though they're all over him; on his cheek, trailing down his neck. Somehow getting underneath his clothing to slide over the muscles on his chest and stomach. Then all of a sudden they're on his thighs, pushing down harder, then up right between his legs and Dark finds himself infuriated at how the touch isn't as unwanted as he would expect.
He knows it's Krad. There isn't anything else that could possibly reach out and touch him in this state. What he doesn't know is exactly how he's doing it. Dark's immediate guess is that it's something to do with a Hikari artifact that he has somehow managed to manipulate. But he's never given the opportunity to ponder much further. Because then the hands do something, and suddenly his back is arched and his head is thrown back, mouth hung open in a moan that he won't allow out.
Sometimes he can feel long strands of hair brushing against his cheek. But whenever he reaches out to yank it, Dark finds himself grabbing at thin air and scraping his fingers against his own skin.
Dark keeps trying to grab the hands on his body as well. But they too are also never touched upon, no matter how quick his reflexes. In the darkness he should be sleeping in, he can't even see his own hand right in front of his nose, something Dark finds very unsettling. But Dark manages to morph that disturbance of the senses into persistence and he continues to grab at the hands on his body and strike out in front of him, determined to close his fingers around some sort of solid form and fight back. Because if Krad wants to mess with him, he'll mess right back.
But there's still nothing before him, or beside him, or behind him. Nothing he can touch, not even in the slightest. Nothing he can strike or push against to get Krad off him. Dark is also becoming horribly aware of how his head is lolled back and his mouth hanging open. He's moaning now, moving his hips as the hand between his legs continues to press and stroke. His trousers, designed to perfectly outline his figure, are becoming too tight. That is until he feels them being slid off his hips and he sighs in the relief it brings.
Then there is the unmistakeable feeling of a tongue pressing against his neck. Krad's tongue. Running up and behind his earlobe, making him suddenly realise how hot his skin is. He utters a short, sharp cry as teeth suddenly close around his ear. Dark hunches his shoulders and turns his head, but is still unable to touch Krad, even though he can feel him half an inch away from his nose. Krad's voice is in his ear, whispering as he asks how it feels. As the question is spoken, the hand between his legs squeezes and Dark moans before he can stop himself, perfectly providing the answer.
As soon as the tongue leaves his earlobe, Dark can feel it in his mouth. It's something he reacts to, aware of how foolish he must look if there were any possibility of a spectator. But he won't allow Krad to win. He knows he must beat him at something. So he pushes back against the tongue in his mouth with his own. Battles it for that bit of dominance. And Dark knows that he's winning. He can feel a sense of frustration snaking into the darkness around him and smirks. He continues to push back against Krad's tongue and laughs when he's sure he hears a faint snarl.
But Dark's victory is short lived. As Krad loses the fight with his tongue, he turns his attention back to Dark's hips, thighs and everything between. That's when Dark suddenly realises that his legs have spread and becomes aware once again of the heat rushing across his cheeks and down.
The hand suddenly leaves his cock and Dark wonders why there is a quick jolt in his chest. But that turns into a dizzying rush that blurs his senses and makes him arch his back when he feels something inside him. Fingers; pushing and wriggling, making Dark shout into nothing. Despite being in an empty darkness, he somehow gets the feeling that he's laying on his back, writhing and yelling. He can feel Krad's weight upon him. There is still the breath on his face and the tongue alternating at its leisure between his mouth, his ear, his throat. The whispers, which provoke the sharp tingling underneath his skin and the pulsing between his legs, are still there. Krad's hair still brushes against his cheek. So close. Yet he still can't grasp a single thing.
It isn't fair. On the other hand, fighting fairly was something Krad was always highly against. In turn, it was something Dark hated when he could see no way of getting any sort of upper hand.
Any hope of that upper hand suddenly being gained is suddenly lost when he feels something where the fingers were. Something that definitely isn't fingers. He screams when it happens, a sound that stutters off into a moan, floating away into the darkness that doesn't even have an echo. At the same time he feels Krad's teeth bite down right on the base of his neck. He sees a flash in front of his vision and all of a sudden Dark's head is spinning. Krad's hips move between his parted legs. There is a fresh gasp of breath against Dark's neck with every thrust, each one becoming more forceful.
Already knowing what a failed effort it is, Dark reaches up only to find that Krad is still apparently nothing but emptiness before him. There isn't any ground underneath him to grip in an attempt to keep himself rooted to reality, so Dark is left unsure on what to do with his hands. He settles for one to reach between his legs to grab his cock, intent on finishing what Krad had started. The other arm is left to flail aimlessly and be put out of Dark's mind.
At that point any order of things is lost and Dark only becomes aware of the briefest flashes zooming through his mind before they are lost to him. Krad's hips slamming against his, his movements almost animalistic. Him moaning and shouting loudly, trying to dislodge the lump of something in his throat that kept jolting up. The breath against his neck and the nips on his collarbone, and, for a brief second, he wonders whether they will still be there when he is reawakened. His own hand, which seemed to have gained a mind of its own as it ran up and down his length, squeezing and rubbing. He's panting heavily. He's not even sure if his eyes are shut or not.
He realises he is within the wave of an orgasm quicker than he had hoped. Coherent thought briefly pipes up through the whirling haze in his mind, thinking that Krad is able to work some wonders. It's a process of thought he quickly puts a stop to when he realises he's giving a compliment. But, unwanted thoughts or not, Dark could still hear the laughter and jibes in his ear, making him want to try striking out again to attempt some sort of damage. Krad is well aware that Dark is unable to touch him, and makes that the focus of his teasing.
The thrusting into his body keeps going and Dark continues to writhe underneath the weight he could feel upon him, hating the fact that he's starting to love every moment of it. All of a sudden he wants Krad's tongue back in his mouth. Because that was a fight he was able to win. And that was exactly why Krad wasn't going to grant him such a thing.
He felt Krad's body shudder violently against his own. Then he's vaguely aware that he is screaming as there is the briefest flash of white before his eyes. His body jolts, his nerves jostle frantically, then all of a sudden reality smashes into him. Dark is aware that he is still alone where he should be sleeping. At least alone in the sense of him being the only present form.
Words coming in his ear again aren't heard properly as Dark starts to feel Krad's presence leaving him. His body becomes heavy, especially his eyelids.
Dark doesn't remember closing his eyes to sleep for unknown decades until the next host body for the phantom thief is ready. But he does know that he will get his own back on Krad. If Krad wants to fuck with him, Dark will find a way to fuck right back.
END