The Cat. The Monster. The Outcast. He was used to those names as much as he hated them. The Sohma clan wasn't a small name in the kingdom, but rather one of the largest families thanks to its spreading branches and unique ruling preferences. One head, many lines. They answered to their "god" and their "god" kept them safely within the kingdom. The dragon branch specialized in medical professions and knowledge, the dog branch in literature and records, the snake branch in clothing and textiles, the ox branch in husbandry, the rat in academics and trade, and so on for each of the zodiac branches. They ranged from positions of power in the kingdom (and earned those positions in skill, not just old blood) to the newest stock just starting in school. Some said they were shady, accepting and brokering illicit deals with others in the kingdom to keep that power and spread. Others said they were simply that damn good at what they did, working well with the kingdom's ruling classes and vocations. Perhaps it was a mixture of the two. Who knew.
But the Sohma head answered to the king or queen, whoever they may be, and offered support in exchange for continued favor and permission to operate. Arawn was no different. Though there was talk about concern the new king was of the werewolf pack, the Sohma head saw little negative in that aspect of their kingdom's ruler. No one forget they'd lived beneath a dragonborne two centuries ago. Human rulers came and went, and more unique beings took the throne between them. Likely what made the kingdom so adaptable and successful, not stuck in their ways so hard a solid crack to the corner would bring them toppling. The Sohma played a good part in that as well, its roots strong and holding different areas together, along with other powerful families that supported the family, clan, or tribe currently on the throne.
That support is part of why a representative group is here today. Walking into the room as brought by the bear-eared guard. Five people, dressed in nice clothes, the Sohma crest embroidered on the shoulder. Four of them seemed normal enough, upper-class citizens. The fifth, however, not exactly. A simple black tunic and breeches with casual boots suggest a low-class breeding. A far contrast to the young man's fiery orange hair, warm tanned skin, and heated scarlet eyes, expression scowling and not at all looking like he's keen to be here. There's a bristling, hot-headed air about him, challenging despite standing with the rest of the small Sohma entourage.
Twelves zodiac branches are respected in the Sohma family, but the thirteenth one, the cat's branch, is the antithesis, and oft goes unspoken without reference by the family, and they try to keep it out of the kingdom's chatter. It serves as the family "reject" pile, where disappointments and failures go, where those perceived as weak or useless are sequestered to, where those the Sohmas don't want to deal with are placed to eek some good out of their lives without staining the rest of the family image. Sweatshops, workhouses, street cleaners, military, even red-light districts are their ilk. Those born into the cat branch are oft even worse.
But every now and then, a cat can be useful. After all, who wants to serve up a prized family member to something as base as dealing with the king's lupine rut? It can't be any more pleasant for Arawn either. Wouldn't it be better for them all to offer something quiet that would require no real effort, no lengthy documented permits or rulings, nothing that would drag this out even further for the king? Something to be used and done with, then put away silently without fanfare. That said, it's not as if the Sohma are offering a piece of gutter trash (despite how they view those in the cat branch). They took their time culling through the cats, finding one who wasn't badly touched by the low dregs of society, but also had the looks suitable for a rut partner. Kyo was the "lucky" selection.
"Kyo, of the Sohma house, your highness," one of the Sohma representatives offered with a respectful bow and dip of his head. Something the orange-haired teen pointedly did not offer. Rather, he simply crossed his arms in front of his chest, corner of his mouth twitching in a silent snarl. "A soldier prospect."
One ear swivels forward as the group comes forward, trying to pick apart the different sounds that belong to this Kyo. He's distinctly aware of the sound of his breathing, a hint faster than the others, a sharp tick of a heartbeat - something he recognizes as disapproval, maybe even anger. Finally a spark of something that isn't just constant obedience, fear, and uncertainty. A spark of life that just fuels that heat that's burning under Arawn's skin.
"Kyo," he echoes, one brow going up. The golden eyes linger on the orange haired teen, the line of his posture, that twitching mouth. "You didn't bring him here to be a soldier." In most situations, Arawn wouldn't say he picks up on things that aren't obvious, but he's been through enough of this the last few days that he knows exactly why they brought Kyo. The Sohmas are just like everyone else, eager to dump someone in his lap for good favor and perks that come with being able to say, their family has provided the king with someone to slick his lust whenever he needs it. And for the first time, Arawn feels a rush of want that might finally give these sharks what they want.
He breathes out slowly, chest rumbling, as he extends his hand to twitch his fingers expectantly for Kyo to come closer. "Come here," he orders, eyes watching Kyo carefully before they lift to the other men around him. "The rest of you step back." There's a sharpness to his voice when he says that, and a few of the wolves that flank them rise onto all fours, creeping closer to the edge of the carpet the Sohmas stand on. It's every bit a warning that they won't tolerate any push back from any of them.
It's certainly disapproval and no small amount of anger. The only reason he's even going along with this is because he'd rather be a soldier in the king's guard than be forced into the lowest ranks by the outskirts of the city. Even those from the Cat branch have their pride, despite most of the family pretending they don't. What he's doing here in front of the king in the first place is beyond him. Why does the king have to be bothered with looking over individual soldiers? Kyo figured that would've been at the very most, the Captain of the Guards.
His name comes on Arawn's lips and he looks up at the wolfish man in front of him. Fuck, why does the sound of his name on that voice grab his attention so much? Though what he says next earns a heated flare of his eyes, tan lips curling in a snarl as the truth comes out. Or at least the start of it. "You what-?!" Kyo almost rounds on one of the Sohma clansmen beside him, twisting his shoulders and upper body with the intent to land a kick straight across the man's face.
But the sudden sharpness in Arawn's voice and the growling of the wolves on them halts his attempt, leaving Kyo in a strange position as his focus goes from his clansmen to the king and his wolves. Growling at the summons just on the heels of the lie, Kyo faces Arawn again, defiantly refusing to move forward for a few seconds. Not until the wolves actually have his clansmen peeled away from him and backed off. Only then does Kyo bother to move forward, arms by his side as he walks closer to the throne the wolf sits on.
"What the fuck am I really hear for?" he snaps, white teeth showing in that glaring expression. "Spit it out." He's not some damn coward that can't take the truth, unlike these assholes who brought him here under pretense.
Arawn can't say he has much patience left for the moment. His senses are in overdrive, nerves sensitive, and it's a constant struggle to keep a hold on his human side. Every part of him is howling to give into his instincts, to take what he wants whether Kyo wants it or not. But he manages, barely, to breathe through those thoughts.
His lips part just the slightest when Kyo approaches, a slight bear of his teeth in response to the other's attitude. There's a low, steady rumble that builds in his chest in warning as the other draws closer - the closest thing to a warning Kyo will get from the wolf that's wound tight and ready to snap. He reaches out once Kyo is within reach, closing a hand around his bicep to haul him closer. Close enough that he can lean in and tuck his face against the curve of his neck.
He draws in a deep breath, his other hand grabbing at Kyo's hip. This far gone, his claws are out, dark nails that dig into the other's hip and bicep to still him, and that grip is tight, enough that it will likely bruise. "You're here," he manages to get out in a low growl, giving into that urge to drag his tongue slowly over the flutter of Kyo's pulse, tracing the line of his jugular vein. "Because you're mine." Those words are rough, the sound of an animal on the verge of losing himself to instincts.
There's no warning when he pulls Kyo further, down onto his lap. And no sooner than his weight lands there, Arawn's teeth take hold, digging into soft, warm skin. He doesn't break skin - there will be time for that later - but the intent is there. A show of force so Kyo knows who is in control here, what Arawn could do with such little effort. It should be obvious now what he wants. On his lap, the red head will feel how he's already half hard. How hot the air around them is, the scent of need strong in the air.
Something about the way Arawn is acting sets Kyo on edge. The tension in his body make an aura of impatience had to ignore. Whether it's the man's brow twitching on the subtle way he sets his jaw or the burning heat in his eyes that makes Kyo's pulse race faster. He feels like the prey in front of a predator, caught in its gaze with an instinctive desire to do something and that doesn't sit well with him.
Doesn't help matters that Arawn looks like he's having trouble breathing. Not from illness, but from restraint. Barely-held restraint. Kyo may have just walked into a wolf's den, but he refuses to back down despite his own hackles rising. Unlike his damn clansmen, he won't approach this with some cowardly substitute. He was brought here for a reason, and has no intention of leaving without knowing what the hell it is. Seeing the king's sliver of white teeth between his lips at his defiance is encouragement to him and Kyo smirks dangerous at the sound of that soft growl. Warning? Bring it on. He's not-
"Huh?!" Until Arawn abruptly grabs his arm. Shit! He thought he was going to pounce! Instead, he's grappled and hauled forward, almost stumbling on his feet, though surprising reflexes quickly catch the motion before he can trip. Kyo tenses up when the wolf suddenly shoves his face against his neck, eyes widening at the inhale. "Hey! What the hell are you doing?!" There's a big different between attacking him and doing... well... that!
Kyo arches slightly when that hand grapples with his hip, skin shivering when the prick of claws dig into his pelvis and upper arm. His bicep hardens under his sleeve and Kyo jerks his hips backwards against Arawn's grab. Feels a damn bruise starting up. "HEY!!" He's licking him?! Kyo tilts his head to the side, trying to avoid that hot tongue running up the length of his neck, right up his jugular. "I'm no one's!" If this guy thinks he can claim him just because he's the damn king, then Arawn's got another thing coming! Even if he does sound like a fucking animal in heat...
Kyo slams both hands onto the wolf's shoulders, tightening them and pressing as he's hauled onto his lap, one knee wedging between Arawn's hip and the throne arm, the other leg still extended to press to the ground in front of it. Teeth sink into his neck and Kyo yells in surprise, anger, and slight alarm. It's not piercing his skin yet, no blood, but the intent... fuck. He shudders against himself, fingers kneading at Arawn's shoulder. That show of dominance and force isn't easy to ignore. And neither's the prominent rising hardness between the wolf's legs.
Oh. Fuck. The pieces click into place. "Fuck. You."
There's a faint echo of a thought that he needs to give Kyo time to think about this. To accept that Arawn is ready to take him to bed and keep him there until his rut is over, to keep him forever if he can have his way. But he can't hold onto that thought no matter how hard he tries, can't help but lose it to the rumbles of instinct and want that spur each movement.
When he feels those hands on his shoulders, there's the slightest shift back with the force of it, a brief flash of discomfort that fades quickly. Kyo is strong, fit, that much is clear, but Arawn is much more solid in comparison. An animal built to fight and endure wrapped in a human skin. There isn't much Kyo could do right now that would hurt him, let alone stop him. And in the state of mind he's in, Arawn can't even spare the thought to try and humor him.
Instead, his other hand is moving, landing on the opposite hip and sliding down it and over his thigh. There, he tugs, hoping to stop Kyo from bracing himself so he can pull him down properly onto his lap, tugging at the hip in his grip. He can't help but laugh at the other's words, teeth relinquishing their hold in favor of letting his lips and teeth catch his ear lobe with a sharp tug. His own skin feels hot and almost unbearable with Kyo's scent mingling with his own.
"Come on," he urges, voice low and rumbling as his hand moves from Kyo's hip and instead to slide under his shirt. The rough fingertips glide over the younger's skin, nails dragging bright red lines in their wake. "You'll just be mine," he promises against the other's ear, mouthing along the line of his jaw. "I'll give you the world." He promises, but the more he speaks, the more his words drag into growls. Another flicker of humanity in him dimming.
Kyo's mind is already racing at the realization of what's going on. He wasn't brought here to join the king's army! He wasn't even brought here to become a servant or guard! These bastard's tricked him into coming here so they could throw him to the fucking wolves! Or wolf in this case. To be consumed one way or another. He's here to get fucked by a werewolf going into rut and that pisses him off more than Kyo can say!
His hands stay locked onto Arawn's shoulders, shoving backwards as best he can to try and put some distance between them. His biceps harden under his shirt and his torso flexes hard from the effort to keep himself leaning back so he's not shoved up against his bastard! The worst part is, he can feel just how solid Arawn is compared to him. Kyo's lithe and muscular, but the werewolf is built like a statue, as strong as an animal and obviously just as driven by instinct. Any thought of getting out of here is pretty easily quashed.
That doesn't mean he's going to give in so readily. Kyo snarls as that other hand grabs onto his thigh, pulling at the muscle and all but dragging Kyo's leg up onto the throne as well. He tries to haul back, but that catch on the back of his knee leaves him essentially kneeling over Arawn's lap with both legs. Only to tense up hard when he's hauled down and ends up properly sitting on the king's lap. Kneeling, but yeah. A hard gulp drags down the tan column of his throat. Fuck... big. That's the only thought in his mind before teeth catch at his ear and pull.
"HEY!" It sounds pathetic compared to what's going on right now, but Kyo quickly claps a hand over his ear, glaring daggers at the werewolf in front of him. He sucks in his breath when a strong hand pushes under his shirt, stomach muscles hardening as the older youth's fingertips skim across his flesh, white teeth baring in a hiss as Arawn scratches at him lightly. "The world's a big place," he growls, already feeling some heat in his voice despite himself. It's not like the werewolf isn't attractive. And he doubts he has much of a choice...
"I'm not gonna make it easy on you, bastard." Though that's more a challenge than outright defiance.
Arawn finds himself taking in every reaction he drags out of Kyo. Everything from the sounds and his voice make his ears swivel and flick, trying to pick out what's happening with the younger beyond that heavy air of anger and frustration. He can hear those breaths he sucks in, the lilt of something in his voice besides that anger. His hand spreads over warm skin, feeling the way those muscles flex, how Kyo's body moves. He can feel so much of the strength in that lithe body already, and it only feeds into that growing heat under his skin.
The amber gaze flicks up and to the other's face when Kyo speaks, watching the way his lips form that snarl. Kyo will notice how wide his pupil against the amber irises, the way the corner of his lips quirk upwards in amusement at the continued show of resistance. Arawn isn't the type of person to flaunt what he can or has done - your actions should always speak louder than your words - and now is no exception. If Kyo wants the world, he'll give it to him, and he won't let that bristling attitude stop him from doing it.
His lips spread into a smirk, flashing his own teeth again, a flash of teeth that's more a promise of what's to come than a threat. "I'll like a challenge," he replies as he leans forward again. His mouth his back on Kyo's skin, pressing open mouthed kisses to the curve of Kyo's shoulder and neck, letting his teeth catch and press against skin in a way that will bruise - one of many marks the other will wear on his skin after this encounter. He wants that more than anything, for Kyo and everyone else to know who the cat belongs to, and he plans to make sure there are plenty for only Kyo to see so he can remember what they've down here. What else they will do in the future.
He doesn't bother with holding onto Kyo's hips now, instead pushing his hands up and along the line of Kyo's torso. The top arcs of his palms are rough from time, an animals paws used against the ground and other surfaces, hardened with new callouses from learning to use and master weapons. He lets them glide over Kyo's skin, keeping one on his back, the other sweeping over his side and up his chest to let his fingers brush one nipple before he pulls back from where he'd been kissing and biting against the other's neck. His attention is instead on pulling that shirt up and over Kyo's head, prepared to maneuver his arms if they get in the way. There's no concern for the fact that they're still being watched - not only by his pack and advisor but the Sohmas who had accompanied Kyo here. Arawn doesn't pay them any mind, letting them fade into the background in favor of continuing to focus entirely on Kyo.
Kyo's nothing if not reactive to things. The surge of emotions right now prompts a rush of them, his shock and disgust at the reality of what happened driving him to shove away from Arawn, the angry rejection of his family pushing him to accept the wolf's offer no matter what the hell it cost just to get away from those assholes makes him want to stick around Arawn, and the obvious human reaction of arousal tempting him to lean in closer to feel just how hard, hot, and heavy the werewolf is. Because of his curse, Kyo's never really been able to get close to other people, women causing him to transform and men because that's embarrassing and Kyo usually picks fights with them.
Now Arawn is touching him, way more than anyone's ever done, his hand spreading over his stomach and chest and causing Kyo's abs and pectorals to harden beneath the wandering combo of fingers and palm. Even with just his hand on him, Kyo can tell Arawn's strong; he's drawn to strength, both presence and physical, both which the werewolf exudes despite the heat coursing through him. He doesn't rescind his words either, glaring right into the topaz eyes with his own flashing scarlet. Vertical pupils blown wide, lips showing amusement at his defiance, Kyo takes all those reactions in Arawn gives him and flares back at him.
"I'm more a challenge than you've ever had before," he snaps back, snarling at the wolf's smirk. Lips draw back from his teeth, sharper canines baring when Arawn's mouth returns to his tan skin. Kyo tugs his head to the side when the man starts to mouth over his shoulder and neck, gritting his teeth and cussing under his breath when the werewolf's mouth starts working to bruise him. Bastard! He's going to be showing that shit tomorrow! Kyo wants to grab his shirt and pull it to cover up the area Arawn's making a saliva-spotted mess. But he also doesn't want to show any sign of weakness, embarrassment, or vulnerability in front of anyone else in this room. So he stays his hand and instead fists his grip on the king's bicep and shoulder, deliberately lifting up on his knees to be "taller" than the wolf and keep his hips and ass off the man's lap on purpose.
Kyo arches into the hands shoving up over his torso, lithe body and athletic muscle hardening beneath his skin as those rough palms map out his upper body. His hand remind him briefly of canine paws, for obvious reasons, and Kyo glares off to the side as one catches him round the back to trap him there while the other starts messing with a dusky nipple. It makes him bite his lower lip to keep the sharp sound from escaping as the sensitive bud gets flicked and brushed, then breathes out when Arawn leaves it alone and draws back. His chest feels hot, his neck feels like a damn molten patch of sun's been plastered to it. Probably has saliva gleaming and hickey marks there already-
"Like hell!" Kyo immediately yanks his arms down, fighting against the removal of his shirt. If it were just Arawn (and his pack, whatever) maybe he wouldn't fight it as much, but the fact his own damn family members are still here, watching him, Kyo flat out refuses the attempt. He's not going to let those bastards watch him get bred or whatever right here on the damn throne! "Tell them to get lost!" That one's more a growl, quieter, but still emphatic.
Even if it's Kyo resisting his attention, Arawn appreciates the strength and resolve he's showing. A docile mate would be easier in the condition he's in, something he thinks he'd accept without complaint if he'd found them to his liking, but he prefers this. That spark of passion even if it's directed at him in such a vicious and disapproving way. It means Kyo feels and cares, and that's something that he's always valued in himself and his pack. It gets you a long way in the world, for better or worse.
Still, he can feel his own frustration at Kyo's resistance. Arawn's too far into his rut now to want to drag things out. All he wants is to feel some kind of relief, and touching more of that warm skin, tasting it, is giving it to him. His teeth relent only for a few seconds, long enough to drag his tongue slowly over the indent of teeth there, feeling the heat of a mark forming. Imagining what it'll be like to sink his teeth into the other's skin, how it'll break under his teeth and give way to a mark that Kyo and everyone else will see and know who the other belongs to. But if he has his way, Kyo won't need a mark to remind him.
Before he can give into the urge to bite down again, he's interrupted by the way those arms are yanked down, stopping him from removing the shirt. It earns a sharp, aggravated growl and a flash of teeth as Arawn lifts his head, ears and tail erect as one hand reaches back, grabbing the back of Kyo's neck to keep him still. There's a press of his claws in warning. "They don't matter." The words come out as a low rumble Kyo can likely feel being so close to Arawn. "Show them what they're losing." He can't articulate fully what he means. It's hard for him to find the right words. But he does know that this is the Sohmas lost. They served Kyo up to him on a platter without telling Kyo why, and that doesn't sit well with him. They've ruined what grace he might have given them.
"People like them get nothing." His eyes flick briefly from Kyo to instead fix a hard stare on the Sohmas, one ear swiveling forward to hear whatever they might have to say. But then his gaze is back on Kyo, one hand moving to pull the shirt off Kyo again. "Take it off."
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Date: 2023-11-21 08:55 pm (UTC)But the Sohma head answered to the king or queen, whoever they may be, and offered support in exchange for continued favor and permission to operate. Arawn was no different. Though there was talk about concern the new king was of the werewolf pack, the Sohma head saw little negative in that aspect of their kingdom's ruler. No one forget they'd lived beneath a dragonborne two centuries ago. Human rulers came and went, and more unique beings took the throne between them. Likely what made the kingdom so adaptable and successful, not stuck in their ways so hard a solid crack to the corner would bring them toppling. The Sohma played a good part in that as well, its roots strong and holding different areas together, along with other powerful families that supported the family, clan, or tribe currently on the throne.
That support is part of why a representative group is here today. Walking into the room as brought by the bear-eared guard. Five people, dressed in nice clothes, the Sohma crest embroidered on the shoulder. Four of them seemed normal enough, upper-class citizens. The fifth, however, not exactly. A simple black tunic and breeches with casual boots suggest a low-class breeding. A far contrast to the young man's fiery orange hair, warm tanned skin, and heated scarlet eyes, expression scowling and not at all looking like he's keen to be here. There's a bristling, hot-headed air about him, challenging despite standing with the rest of the small Sohma entourage.
Twelves zodiac branches are respected in the Sohma family, but the thirteenth one, the cat's branch, is the antithesis, and oft goes unspoken without reference by the family, and they try to keep it out of the kingdom's chatter. It serves as the family "reject" pile, where disappointments and failures go, where those perceived as weak or useless are sequestered to, where those the Sohmas don't want to deal with are placed to eek some good out of their lives without staining the rest of the family image. Sweatshops, workhouses, street cleaners, military, even red-light districts are their ilk. Those born into the cat branch are oft even worse.
But every now and then, a cat can be useful. After all, who wants to serve up a prized family member to something as base as dealing with the king's lupine rut? It can't be any more pleasant for Arawn either. Wouldn't it be better for them all to offer something quiet that would require no real effort, no lengthy documented permits or rulings, nothing that would drag this out even further for the king? Something to be used and done with, then put away silently without fanfare. That said, it's not as if the Sohma are offering a piece of gutter trash (despite how they view those in the cat branch). They took their time culling through the cats, finding one who wasn't badly touched by the low dregs of society, but also had the looks suitable for a rut partner. Kyo was the "lucky" selection.
"Kyo, of the Sohma house, your highness," one of the Sohma representatives offered with a respectful bow and dip of his head. Something the orange-haired teen pointedly did not offer. Rather, he simply crossed his arms in front of his chest, corner of his mouth twitching in a silent snarl. "A soldier prospect."
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Date: 2023-12-04 03:54 pm (UTC)"Kyo," he echoes, one brow going up. The golden eyes linger on the orange haired teen, the line of his posture, that twitching mouth. "You didn't bring him here to be a soldier." In most situations, Arawn wouldn't say he picks up on things that aren't obvious, but he's been through enough of this the last few days that he knows exactly why they brought Kyo. The Sohmas are just like everyone else, eager to dump someone in his lap for good favor and perks that come with being able to say, their family has provided the king with someone to slick his lust whenever he needs it. And for the first time, Arawn feels a rush of want that might finally give these sharks what they want.
He breathes out slowly, chest rumbling, as he extends his hand to twitch his fingers expectantly for Kyo to come closer. "Come here," he orders, eyes watching Kyo carefully before they lift to the other men around him. "The rest of you step back." There's a sharpness to his voice when he says that, and a few of the wolves that flank them rise onto all fours, creeping closer to the edge of the carpet the Sohmas stand on. It's every bit a warning that they won't tolerate any push back from any of them.
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Date: 2023-12-07 04:58 pm (UTC)His name comes on Arawn's lips and he looks up at the wolfish man in front of him. Fuck, why does the sound of his name on that voice grab his attention so much? Though what he says next earns a heated flare of his eyes, tan lips curling in a snarl as the truth comes out. Or at least the start of it. "You what-?!" Kyo almost rounds on one of the Sohma clansmen beside him, twisting his shoulders and upper body with the intent to land a kick straight across the man's face.
But the sudden sharpness in Arawn's voice and the growling of the wolves on them halts his attempt, leaving Kyo in a strange position as his focus goes from his clansmen to the king and his wolves. Growling at the summons just on the heels of the lie, Kyo faces Arawn again, defiantly refusing to move forward for a few seconds. Not until the wolves actually have his clansmen peeled away from him and backed off. Only then does Kyo bother to move forward, arms by his side as he walks closer to the throne the wolf sits on.
"What the fuck am I really hear for?" he snaps, white teeth showing in that glaring expression. "Spit it out." He's not some damn coward that can't take the truth, unlike these assholes who brought him here under pretense.
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Date: 2024-02-14 01:11 am (UTC)His lips part just the slightest when Kyo approaches, a slight bear of his teeth in response to the other's attitude. There's a low, steady rumble that builds in his chest in warning as the other draws closer - the closest thing to a warning Kyo will get from the wolf that's wound tight and ready to snap. He reaches out once Kyo is within reach, closing a hand around his bicep to haul him closer. Close enough that he can lean in and tuck his face against the curve of his neck.
He draws in a deep breath, his other hand grabbing at Kyo's hip. This far gone, his claws are out, dark nails that dig into the other's hip and bicep to still him, and that grip is tight, enough that it will likely bruise. "You're here," he manages to get out in a low growl, giving into that urge to drag his tongue slowly over the flutter of Kyo's pulse, tracing the line of his jugular vein. "Because you're mine." Those words are rough, the sound of an animal on the verge of losing himself to instincts.
There's no warning when he pulls Kyo further, down onto his lap. And no sooner than his weight lands there, Arawn's teeth take hold, digging into soft, warm skin. He doesn't break skin - there will be time for that later - but the intent is there. A show of force so Kyo knows who is in control here, what Arawn could do with such little effort. It should be obvious now what he wants. On his lap, the red head will feel how he's already half hard. How hot the air around them is, the scent of need strong in the air.
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Date: 2024-02-18 06:21 pm (UTC)Doesn't help matters that Arawn looks like he's having trouble breathing. Not from illness, but from restraint. Barely-held restraint. Kyo may have just walked into a wolf's den, but he refuses to back down despite his own hackles rising. Unlike his damn clansmen, he won't approach this with some cowardly substitute. He was brought here for a reason, and has no intention of leaving without knowing what the hell it is. Seeing the king's sliver of white teeth between his lips at his defiance is encouragement to him and Kyo smirks dangerous at the sound of that soft growl. Warning? Bring it on. He's not-
"Huh?!" Until Arawn abruptly grabs his arm. Shit! He thought he was going to pounce! Instead, he's grappled and hauled forward, almost stumbling on his feet, though surprising reflexes quickly catch the motion before he can trip. Kyo tenses up when the wolf suddenly shoves his face against his neck, eyes widening at the inhale. "Hey! What the hell are you doing?!" There's a big different between attacking him and doing... well... that!
Kyo arches slightly when that hand grapples with his hip, skin shivering when the prick of claws dig into his pelvis and upper arm. His bicep hardens under his sleeve and Kyo jerks his hips backwards against Arawn's grab. Feels a damn bruise starting up. "HEY!!" He's licking him?! Kyo tilts his head to the side, trying to avoid that hot tongue running up the length of his neck, right up his jugular. "I'm no one's!" If this guy thinks he can claim him just because he's the damn king, then Arawn's got another thing coming! Even if he does sound like a fucking animal in heat...
Kyo slams both hands onto the wolf's shoulders, tightening them and pressing as he's hauled onto his lap, one knee wedging between Arawn's hip and the throne arm, the other leg still extended to press to the ground in front of it. Teeth sink into his neck and Kyo yells in surprise, anger, and slight alarm. It's not piercing his skin yet, no blood, but the intent... fuck. He shudders against himself, fingers kneading at Arawn's shoulder. That show of dominance and force isn't easy to ignore. And neither's the prominent rising hardness between the wolf's legs.
Oh. Fuck. The pieces click into place. "Fuck. You."
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Date: 2024-02-18 11:26 pm (UTC)When he feels those hands on his shoulders, there's the slightest shift back with the force of it, a brief flash of discomfort that fades quickly. Kyo is strong, fit, that much is clear, but Arawn is much more solid in comparison. An animal built to fight and endure wrapped in a human skin. There isn't much Kyo could do right now that would hurt him, let alone stop him. And in the state of mind he's in, Arawn can't even spare the thought to try and humor him.
Instead, his other hand is moving, landing on the opposite hip and sliding down it and over his thigh. There, he tugs, hoping to stop Kyo from bracing himself so he can pull him down properly onto his lap, tugging at the hip in his grip. He can't help but laugh at the other's words, teeth relinquishing their hold in favor of letting his lips and teeth catch his ear lobe with a sharp tug. His own skin feels hot and almost unbearable with Kyo's scent mingling with his own.
"Come on," he urges, voice low and rumbling as his hand moves from Kyo's hip and instead to slide under his shirt. The rough fingertips glide over the younger's skin, nails dragging bright red lines in their wake. "You'll just be mine," he promises against the other's ear, mouthing along the line of his jaw. "I'll give you the world." He promises, but the more he speaks, the more his words drag into growls. Another flicker of humanity in him dimming.
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Date: 2024-02-20 09:14 pm (UTC)His hands stay locked onto Arawn's shoulders, shoving backwards as best he can to try and put some distance between them. His biceps harden under his shirt and his torso flexes hard from the effort to keep himself leaning back so he's not shoved up against his bastard! The worst part is, he can feel just how solid Arawn is compared to him. Kyo's lithe and muscular, but the werewolf is built like a statue, as strong as an animal and obviously just as driven by instinct. Any thought of getting out of here is pretty easily quashed.
That doesn't mean he's going to give in so readily. Kyo snarls as that other hand grabs onto his thigh, pulling at the muscle and all but dragging Kyo's leg up onto the throne as well. He tries to haul back, but that catch on the back of his knee leaves him essentially kneeling over Arawn's lap with both legs. Only to tense up hard when he's hauled down and ends up properly sitting on the king's lap. Kneeling, but yeah. A hard gulp drags down the tan column of his throat. Fuck... big. That's the only thought in his mind before teeth catch at his ear and pull.
"HEY!" It sounds pathetic compared to what's going on right now, but Kyo quickly claps a hand over his ear, glaring daggers at the werewolf in front of him. He sucks in his breath when a strong hand pushes under his shirt, stomach muscles hardening as the older youth's fingertips skim across his flesh, white teeth baring in a hiss as Arawn scratches at him lightly. "The world's a big place," he growls, already feeling some heat in his voice despite himself. It's not like the werewolf isn't attractive. And he doubts he has much of a choice...
"I'm not gonna make it easy on you, bastard." Though that's more a challenge than outright defiance.
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Date: 2024-02-23 12:10 am (UTC)The amber gaze flicks up and to the other's face when Kyo speaks, watching the way his lips form that snarl. Kyo will notice how wide his pupil against the amber irises, the way the corner of his lips quirk upwards in amusement at the continued show of resistance. Arawn isn't the type of person to flaunt what he can or has done - your actions should always speak louder than your words - and now is no exception. If Kyo wants the world, he'll give it to him, and he won't let that bristling attitude stop him from doing it.
His lips spread into a smirk, flashing his own teeth again, a flash of teeth that's more a promise of what's to come than a threat. "I'll like a challenge," he replies as he leans forward again. His mouth his back on Kyo's skin, pressing open mouthed kisses to the curve of Kyo's shoulder and neck, letting his teeth catch and press against skin in a way that will bruise - one of many marks the other will wear on his skin after this encounter. He wants that more than anything, for Kyo and everyone else to know who the cat belongs to, and he plans to make sure there are plenty for only Kyo to see so he can remember what they've down here. What else they will do in the future.
He doesn't bother with holding onto Kyo's hips now, instead pushing his hands up and along the line of Kyo's torso. The top arcs of his palms are rough from time, an animals paws used against the ground and other surfaces, hardened with new callouses from learning to use and master weapons. He lets them glide over Kyo's skin, keeping one on his back, the other sweeping over his side and up his chest to let his fingers brush one nipple before he pulls back from where he'd been kissing and biting against the other's neck. His attention is instead on pulling that shirt up and over Kyo's head, prepared to maneuver his arms if they get in the way. There's no concern for the fact that they're still being watched - not only by his pack and advisor but the Sohmas who had accompanied Kyo here. Arawn doesn't pay them any mind, letting them fade into the background in favor of continuing to focus entirely on Kyo.
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Date: 2024-02-29 10:14 pm (UTC)Now Arawn is touching him, way more than anyone's ever done, his hand spreading over his stomach and chest and causing Kyo's abs and pectorals to harden beneath the wandering combo of fingers and palm. Even with just his hand on him, Kyo can tell Arawn's strong; he's drawn to strength, both presence and physical, both which the werewolf exudes despite the heat coursing through him. He doesn't rescind his words either, glaring right into the topaz eyes with his own flashing scarlet. Vertical pupils blown wide, lips showing amusement at his defiance, Kyo takes all those reactions in Arawn gives him and flares back at him.
"I'm more a challenge than you've ever had before," he snaps back, snarling at the wolf's smirk. Lips draw back from his teeth, sharper canines baring when Arawn's mouth returns to his tan skin. Kyo tugs his head to the side when the man starts to mouth over his shoulder and neck, gritting his teeth and cussing under his breath when the werewolf's mouth starts working to bruise him. Bastard! He's going to be showing that shit tomorrow! Kyo wants to grab his shirt and pull it to cover up the area Arawn's making a saliva-spotted mess. But he also doesn't want to show any sign of weakness, embarrassment, or vulnerability in front of anyone else in this room. So he stays his hand and instead fists his grip on the king's bicep and shoulder, deliberately lifting up on his knees to be "taller" than the wolf and keep his hips and ass off the man's lap on purpose.
Kyo arches into the hands shoving up over his torso, lithe body and athletic muscle hardening beneath his skin as those rough palms map out his upper body. His hand remind him briefly of canine paws, for obvious reasons, and Kyo glares off to the side as one catches him round the back to trap him there while the other starts messing with a dusky nipple. It makes him bite his lower lip to keep the sharp sound from escaping as the sensitive bud gets flicked and brushed, then breathes out when Arawn leaves it alone and draws back. His chest feels hot, his neck feels like a damn molten patch of sun's been plastered to it. Probably has saliva gleaming and hickey marks there already-
"Like hell!" Kyo immediately yanks his arms down, fighting against the removal of his shirt. If it were just Arawn (and his pack, whatever) maybe he wouldn't fight it as much, but the fact his own damn family members are still here, watching him, Kyo flat out refuses the attempt. He's not going to let those bastards watch him get bred or whatever right here on the damn throne! "Tell them to get lost!" That one's more a growl, quieter, but still emphatic.
Maybe even a trade...
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Date: 2024-03-11 11:51 pm (UTC)Still, he can feel his own frustration at Kyo's resistance. Arawn's too far into his rut now to want to drag things out. All he wants is to feel some kind of relief, and touching more of that warm skin, tasting it, is giving it to him. His teeth relent only for a few seconds, long enough to drag his tongue slowly over the indent of teeth there, feeling the heat of a mark forming. Imagining what it'll be like to sink his teeth into the other's skin, how it'll break under his teeth and give way to a mark that Kyo and everyone else will see and know who the other belongs to. But if he has his way, Kyo won't need a mark to remind him.
Before he can give into the urge to bite down again, he's interrupted by the way those arms are yanked down, stopping him from removing the shirt. It earns a sharp, aggravated growl and a flash of teeth as Arawn lifts his head, ears and tail erect as one hand reaches back, grabbing the back of Kyo's neck to keep him still. There's a press of his claws in warning. "They don't matter." The words come out as a low rumble Kyo can likely feel being so close to Arawn. "Show them what they're losing." He can't articulate fully what he means. It's hard for him to find the right words. But he does know that this is the Sohmas lost. They served Kyo up to him on a platter without telling Kyo why, and that doesn't sit well with him. They've ruined what grace he might have given them.
"People like them get nothing." His eyes flick briefly from Kyo to instead fix a hard stare on the Sohmas, one ear swiveling forward to hear whatever they might have to say. But then his gaze is back on Kyo, one hand moving to pull the shirt off Kyo again. "Take it off."