Xanxus had gotten as used as a person could, over the years, to the way Mukuro took him to bed using Xanxus’ own body. All bets were off, working with someone who possessed people, including you. He got that.

But sometimes, now, it was different. Sometimes Mukuro used his own body. And then things went differently.

Those were the nights like this one, when the darkness inside him felt heavier than usual and Mukuro’s presence shifted outside of him, teasing him with there-and-gone until he was twitchy. When he finally felt a firmer brush of that presence he looked up with a glare to find the man actually standing in the doorway, lean and careless and smiling that surface smile that really creeped him out.

"Yeah, what?" he growled.

Mukuro didn’t move, just smiled a little wider and seized Xanxus’ self harshly, without pretense or banter for once, driving Xanxus down in his own mind until he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think of fighting any more, dazed and pliant under the ruthless grip.

And then Mukuro drew back, leaving Xanxus still and trembling and hard from the touch of Mukuro’s strength.

The next touch he felt was hands running over his skin, easing him down against the bed, brushing his clothes aside. Sliding after Mukuro’s fingers was possession, soft this time, stealing through his body and caressing every inch of him. It didn’t restrain him this time, but this soon after being reminded so roughly and completely what Mukuro was to him he couldn’t resist. It was familiar and warm, and he surrendered to it with a low moan. Mukuro stroked him, inside and out, not holding or moving him this time but easing Xanxus’ body into his hands, preparing him in little ways to receive every touch.

Mukuro’s hands felt different than his own—strong, yes, but slender. The touch, though… he knew that touch, knew the feeling of fingers pressing into his ass that way, knew the possessive slide of Mukuro’s will down his arms and legs. It was the feeling of being wanted, because what Mukuro wanted Mukuro took.

“Exactly,” Mukuro purred, speaking for the first time that evening. Mukuro’s possession of his body tipped Xanxus’ hips up just a little, just enough to make the first thrust perfect, and he smiled as Xanxus gasped.

That lean, tall body fucked him slowly, surely, and Mukuro’s will held him, stroked and caressed him, nudged him until he was spread out just right and panting under the pleasure. This gentle possession took nothing, only urged, though the core of Xanxus still vibrated with the memory of Mukuro’s crushing power. Even so, he knew this was another way of binding him just as firmly; he could feel it waiting.

“You belong to me,” Mukuro murmured, low and husky.

The final surrender was one word Xanxus whispered of his own will.

“Yes.”

Mukuro gathered him up and kissed him, slow and deep, the one touch that Mukuro could only give him in person, and Xanxus moaned as pleasure rolled through him, spilling in on the heels of his submission. He couldn’t tell if that was Mukuro’s doing or just his own response; it almost didn’t matter right now. Mukuro held him as the heat wrung him out, and as it faded he gripped Xanxus’ will more tightly, pressing him down slow and inexorable, stilling the first twitch of embarrassment and resistance before it could really begin. Xanxus breathed out and subsided under him.

“Some day you will surrender this completely to my gentlest touch,” Mukuro said, light and soft against his ear.

The thought made Xanxus shudder with want and heat, and Mukuro smiled down at him, slow and dark and real.

End