Reaper Tease

Death is copyrighted to Sallie Drazzi

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Tanji reclined against the lush pillows, one leg crooked up, notebook resting on his thigh. The rich red duvet draped and flowed down from that high point, caressing over his skin where his silk boxers failed to do so.

A few days ago he’d been clinging to these blankets for warmth, the phoenix so weak and ill it had left him so it could recover without killing him in the process. Most of that time he’d spent in this bed, alone, desperately sick and so very lonely. Death had been in the First Realm on some chore of Life’s and had just returned, after Tanji had recovered, lovely timing and all.

“Yeah, Trouble thought of it, givin the phoenix energy by puttin it in a fire,” he was explaining, scribbling out notes to a song he was working on.

“And that assisted its recovery?” Death glanced over his shoulder, idly straightening things across the room.

“Yep, took awhile, but it came outta there and crashed back to me and I was out good long time.”

“Mmhmm.”

Tanji scowled, glaring over the top of his notebook. He was about sick of the half-assed conversation going on here. Death was barely acknowledging his presence. After this long being apart and he was near enough being ignored!

“Phoenix would have burnt down the stable another few meters, taken your precious horse with it,” Tanji stabbed at a particularly naughty spot on the paper, it deserved it.

That didn’t even get a response.

“Or even here in ya bed, coulda burnt the whole room,” another stabbing.

Again silence.

Tanji looked up, scowling further at Death not even being where he had been. The young fire demon pissily looked back at his notebook. Death had buggered off somewhere, not even pretending to not be ignoring him anymore. Probably off to check his damn horse.

Tanji nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the bed move. Death was there, quite literally prowling up the bed like some great white hunting cat, sidling around Tanji’s crooked up leg and grabbing the notebook. Casually the Reaper glanced at it, then tossed it over the side of the bed.

“Was workin on a song,” Tanji attempted so very hard to pout, and failed miserably.

“Not anymore,” Death narrowed his eyes, those grass green orbs never before having looked so sultry and smoldering.

Tanji tried to form a reply, but when Death was looming over you with that look, most coherent mental processes failed.

“You’re feeling better at least?”

“Eh,” Tanji kicked his brain into managing a one syllable reply, not too difficult, “Yeah.”

“I apologize I was indisposed and unable to help.”

“S… s’ok.”

“However, since I have just undergone a week of some form of very cruel hell, and I am not feeling entirely unscathed by the experience, you’ll have to make me feel better.”

Tanji wasn’t given a second to even try to form a reply, Death’s mouth crashing to his, tongue invading his mouth in the most delicious of ways. It was all passion, lips, lust and tongue. It even took a moment for Tanji to recover enough to return some of that, circling his arms around Death’s shoulders just short of clinging. Gods he’d missed this.

Death’s hands seemed to be everywhere, a ghost of a presence beyond the sensations of the kiss that were often pale, but would brighten like a shard of glass struck just correctly by the light when certain places were touched. Tanji arched his back, encouraging the touches to circle around behind, thrilling at how Death’s fingers seemed to play his spine like those piano keys they made love to so often.

Death’s fingers didn’t just touch anything, they made love to them, caressing and lingering, leaving behind a wake of something, something that thrilled Tanji very much.

The Reaper settled himself just perfectly atop his smaller lover, a heavy enough presence to be enticing, but not enough to crush or smother. He was just that good, even his weight and balance were correct and polite to the needs of his partner.

Death pulled back the barest of spaces, breath hot upon Tanji’s face. Tanji wasn’t sure of the scent, how to equate it with anything, certainly no one thing. It was a definite musk, the scent of heat, an underlay of cologne, and vague lingerings to flowers and spices.

Or perhaps it was Tanji’s overactive imagination, drawing scents from a distant memory that probably wasn’t even his, but drawn from the collective memories he shared with the immortal phoenix and all the beings it had previously been bonded with. It was a memory of a dark room lined with flowers, incense and candles burning, a body laying there shrouded in linen and flowers and smelling of spices. A funeral.

It evoked a sense of reverence, of awe in Tanji. Perhaps in others it would have been sadness, but to Tanji this scent and this memory were beautiful, full of dignity and honor, even joy and hope. Death was the key to something beyond, a gateway, a closing, a celebration of the life lived and hope of the life to come. There was no balance without death, a story never-ending, a beginning without an end, and what then was a beginning? What was the purpose to a story that didn’t end?

And this Being in Tanji’s arms held the key to that process. That was very powerful, and very alluring.

All of this passed through Tanji’s mind in a second, as it did every time that scent hit him. It seemed almost sacrilegious to treat this powerful Being as a mere lover, that he should be something more. But Death wouldn’t have wanted that, he almost at times seemed to hate his task. Tanji couldn’t understand that, perhaps fogged by worship as he was. He not only saw death as a beautiful and acceptable thing, but that Death hadn’t chosen this, this wasn’t his fault it was his task, he really didn’t need to blame himself.

Death had a scarf of silk in his hand, gotten from somewhere, running it against Tanji’s blushing cheek, “What are the thoughts running behind those ruby eyes?”

The scent of you turns me on? No, too twisted. You remind me of a funeral? Too morbid. I missed you? Too personal. I love you? Impossible, don’t even think about it, back up, try again.

The most intelligent way to answer a question was with another question.

“What’re ya goin’ to do with that?” Tanji’s inclined his head toward the scarf, humming softly to himself, loving the feel of the silk.

“I think you’re intelligent enough to figure it out,” Death ran the silk down along Tanji’s arm, taking hold of his wrist.

Tanji didn’t fight, watching in excited expectation as Death very slowly and deliberately tied his wrist to the headboard. He just as slowly reached for the other wrist and tied it similarly so Tanji’s arms were up over his head.

Death tested the ties, satisfied they were comfortably tight, but that Tanji wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. He slid himself down along Tanji’s body, eliciting a moan from the fire demon, already so aroused beneath the silk of his shorts. Death purposefully added just a bit more pressure to that, satisfied at another moan.

Tanji just closed his eyes, allowing himself to play entirely passive, be surprised by the attentions that came. Death’s fingers were feathering up and down his sides, hair flowing down and around him. Then came the Reaper’s hot breath against his chest, drifting to the left, finally after an excruciating wait, his mouth closing on and manipulating the nipple ring there.

The little fire demon couldn’t help but moan, wanting so badly to tangle his fingers into Death’s luscious hair or to just hold onto his shoulders and feel the powerful muscles rippling beneath the flesh. Ah, that was one of the lures of being tied, being forced submissive despite whatever he wanted to do, denied nearly all conventional movement.

And yet it was freeing. He couldn’t do anything, and therefore he wasn’t expected to do anything, meaning he wouldn’t screw up somehow and disappoint Death.

The last thing he wanted was to have this wonderful Being upset with him. Every second of every day, he felt himself being pulled toward wanting to please and impress Death, gain his attention, his affection. Every day was a hard battle.

Then again, ties had always appealed to Tanji. He liked surrendering that control, being freed from expectations. It really built up a tasty frustration over time, as well, it made what little control he was allowed all the more sweet.

Tanji arched his hips as Death began to move downward, willowy fingers making love to the well-defined ripples of bunched muscle along his abdomen. They passed over all too quickly, moving instead to Tanji’s hips. He knew that signal, Death wanted him to hold still, restrain himself.

The fire demon tensed and forced himself to not arch up. He swore he could almost feel Death’s pleased smirk against his skin, but perhaps his imagination was playing games with him again.

Death passed his lips just barely down over Tanji’s stomach, then more firmly at the coloured flesh of his navel, striking with a bit of teeth just for contrast. Tanji shuddered, unable to stop himself from moaning. Death knew how to play his hotspots all too well, repeating the attention to the tattoo on the right hip.

Tanji just nearly formed a coherent thought that Death had avoided the tattoo on the left hip when the Reaper slid himself back up along Tanji’s body, putting very distinct pressure on his aching arousal.

The bare fabric of the silk was so very hot and constricting, Tanji just couldn’t stand it, he wanted them off, wanted to touch Death skin to skin. Without thinking about the restriction, the fact Death’s hands were still at his hips, Tanji arched his hips up, begging to be released from the tormenting clothing.

The Reaper tutted, lifting up off him, pulling back and gazing at him thoughtfully. “Actually, I neglected to have a shower when I returned, I should attend to that presently.”

And then he was gone, utterly and completely gone, just like that.

Tanji thudded his head back against the headboard, trying to remind himself to breathe. Yes, breathing would make everything better… right… sure. That had totally been his fault, Death so very did that to punish him, just torment him more and more than likely attempt to teach him some patience.

He certainly didn’t feel like learning any lessons right now. He’d been without Death for far long enough without this teasing game. To be touched and aroused and then… poof!

The little fire demon wriggled, managing to get onto his side without straining his arms too much. Sure the ties could be undone, but they took so much time, Death made sure of that every time. And the moment he wriggled onto his stomach he knew that had been a bad idea. He winced and moaned softly, aching arousal ground into the mattress beneath him. Very wrong move.

Tanji wriggled slowly up and down, losing himself in the pleasure the motion caused. Maybe he could get off once like this, just once would help. Then – he prayed – Death would come back and finish him off. Oh please let Death come back.

It felt like forever, although it probably wasn’t more than half an hour. The room flooded with that delicious sense of foreboding, the scent of Death, and Tanji knew he was back even before he felt movement on the bed.

“You’ve found yourself in quite a predicament, haven’t you?”

Tanji couldn’t restrain the purr at just Death’s tone. It was so rough and lusty. Of course, Tanji’s desperate state didn’t help any.

Tanji felt Death’s hand ghosting over his hip, didn’t dare move into it in case Death decided to vanish off again. After a moment Death’s other hand played over the small of Tanji’s back, at the tail of phoenix, right above the waist of his boxers, such a sensitive spot it had Tanji moaning immediately.

“I contemplated you joining me in the shower. If you had been there, adjust the temperature to the heat you like, the hot water coursing over your body and between us as you pressed against me.”

Tanji shivered and groaned, the words coupled with Death’s fingers eliciting such pleasure from his spine was almost too much.

“Wash that silken hair of yours, ebony flows between my fingers. My hands sliding all over you to wash your body thoroughly, cradling you against me as I do so, feeling how you arch, seeking my touches.”

Death sidled up against his back, still hot and wet from the shower, hands moving around and over Tanji’s front as if they were actually acting what Death was describing. Death’s breath was hot against his ear, “Where do you want me to touch you?”

Tanji, hard as he tried, could not form a coherent word. He could only gasp and writhe, trying to move back against Death and at the same time move toward his touches.

“Just like this, such a contradiction, a predicament.”

Death slid his hand down Tanji’s stomach, passing beneath the silk boxers, palming Tanji’s tormented arousal. That was all it took, Tanji’s body convulsing with orgasmic shudders as he pressed his face down against the pillows to quiet his cry.

The Reaper made what might have been a pleased noise, carefully removing Tanji’s boxers, tenderly caressing the boy’s sex as it firmed up in his hand again. Tanji moaned as he felt slick fingers easing up into him, stretching and preparing the way. It felt so good, he had to rock back against it, no care at all now to if Death would leave again.

“Anata wa sei desu?” Death veritably purred the words, leaning close to Tanji’s ear.

Tanji swallowed hard, forcing himself to come up with an answer, thankfully it was easier to do so in Japanese, native language and all, “H… hai.”

“Brace yourself.”

Tanji purred at those words he loved, stiffening his arms against the headboard. The following thrust from the Being behind him was so strong and placed Death’s length so deep within him that he came immediately.

The Immortal drew him into a steady rhythm regardless, one hand at his hip to steady him, the other massaging up and down Tanji’s back, giving no care to how badly that irritated the phoenix. He couldn’t help but groan as his little partner tightened around his invading length, shuddering and coming again.

Death pulled himself loose, gently manipulating Tanji’s hips so the boy turned, mindful of how his arms were bound so this wasn’t too uncomfortable a movement. He ran his hand down Tanji’s left thigh, fingering the coloured flesh there on the inner part, encouraging his legs apart. He smirked at the shiver that resulted, thrusting his hips and gliding easily back into that tight heat.

Tanji arched his back, head falling against the pillows, arms straining in a vain attempt to get loose from his bindings. Death leaned over just enough for his hair to spill over his shoulders, pooling over Tanji’s stomach with tantalizing sensations. He kept his hands at Tanji’s hips, holding him and affording him no other attention except the smooth and steady stroke of his sex deep inside him.

The fire demon tried to arch harder, get his hips to move, but Death had him too strongly pinned down. He moaned, his tone warning and begging, but it granted him nothing. Death continued unaffected, moving into him with the same wonderful motion, stroking against those most wonderful places inside his partner.

The Reaper performed for his partner, made it wonderful for them, even denying Tanji this much of what he wanted. He strung him along, taking all the time he could before that hot little body just couldn’t handle anymore. With a few more powerful strokes Tanji dissolved into his finishing orgasm, Death allowing himself to follow a moment after, spilling his hot seed deep into the boy.

Tanji shivered, mostly from pleasure, but also from the fleeing heat that had cumulated between them. Death settled down beside him, turning him and drawing the covers up over the both of them.

Sleepy red eyes blinked at Death after a long, quiet moment, followed by a little begging whimper and a gentle tug on the silk ties.

Death glanced up at the bindings, and then smirked at Tanji, “I haven’t yet finished telling you about the shower.”

Oh, this was going to be a very long night.





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Index