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"Do you know what day it is?" Saïx managed to breathe out between greedy throatfuls and wet suction, and it took several long seconds for the unprompted question to pierce through.
Xemnas hardly has the mind for such inane questions, questions Saïx already knew the answers to, let alone when his trousers are tugged down by his knees and his lovely Diviner had him stood pressed against the closed door of his private quarters.
"Mnh, hmng -" He cannot form words, not with the dizzying heat and glorious snugness and - he winds a hand in Saïx's hair and tugs, forcing his second-in-command still enough to allow his mental faculties to recover. He barely used that desk calendar that the very man currently deepthroating him had gotten for him, but he paid attention enough. "It's - ah, hah - Saturday, Saïx."
If he were not so wonderfully distracted, Xemnas would realise that Saïx, efficient and thorough and meticulous to a fault, never needed reminders, let alone for the date or day. Never needed a calendar. Of all of them, he so connected to the moon in their land of eternal night knew the cycles and the passage of time like no other. His regime was clockwork to the very second, his professionalism second to none, his dedication indisputable.
And despite the sharp curl of grasping fingers near his scalp, Saïx merely angled his head and speared Xemnas' positively aching cock down his throat, humming once unable to take it further. Lips wrapped around the base, fangs nested either side, swallowing around him.
The Superior had no elegance here, no poise or integrity - the back of his head thudded against the door and he groaned unabashedly, barely able to contain himself from rolling his hips forward, fucking VII's perfect throat wide open.
So hot - and always so expertly done, Saïx’s dangerous mouth constantly so slick and precise, knowing with deadly precision all the right places to press. He could feel that tongue, sharp and soft and enticing as a heavy vein was lapped at. Stroked, even, the tip of that tongue running the length of it, trying to tease him to an even fuller hardness - Xemnas did not think it possible, all the blood in this borrowed body of his most certainly flooded thick downward, pooling against those fangs, fangs he trusted more than anything. He felt the edge of one catch, the slightest brush of hard on hard, and it was immediately followed by a soothing lick, long and broad.
Saïx was no marksman, but hearts abound he never failed to hit Xemnas' most sensitive spots and with a finesse that made it all look so easy. Perhaps it was - Saïx had had practice, and he was a Nobody that had pride in each skill he mastered. He deserved the praise he so frequently got - especially when no other could render Xemnas this close to feeling. And he could feel the back of Saïx's throat, hot and velvet, before the Diviner slid away.
Any compliments Xemnas wanted to give died in his mouth at the motion, Saïx shifting beneath him.
He pulled back, and Xemnas gasped at the loss, arching against the door, the feeling of suction trailing the length of his cock and lingering on the sensitive crown just for a moment, just enough to dash his attention to naught. A closed, drawn-out kiss, right to his tip, that left Xemnas' legs quaking at the intensity. That sinful mouth of his, all plush and pleasure and pain, so capable of it all. Saïx always had and always would know every single dirty, underhanded trick, and he was never afraid to use them.
Nobodies can't be afraid, after all. And Saïx had never been afraid of him. He proved it by quickly ducking down, leaving a similar open kiss to the underside of his Master's cock, the satiny spot where the base of his cock met his balls. Wet with spit, chin dripping, Saïx was a mess - and in total control, proving it with that simple meeting of lips on skin. He slowly sucked at him again, gently, misleadingly, dizzyingly, a promise, a warning, a dream. VII could devour with ease - and chose always to favour an outcome that left them both satisfied. He had seen this very beast before him have that same mouth dripping with blood, darkness, venom - their short lifetime together, they had seen the very worst of each other - and while Saïx was forever untamable, ultimately unpredictable, this, having him and knowing the power that lurked, the devastation that could be done with a single snap of his jaw... Xemnas throbbed against the plush of his inner cheek and could feel him hum around it, as if it were a treat that he had been craving, before slowly pulling back again, another languid kiss, all lips and almost-false sentiment. Hearts it was bliss, to both take from him and know he ached for it. To give in return.
Xemnas’ heart was not able to be in his hands, but the most tender parts he had to offer was on his wicked tongue, and perhaps that meant something, somewhere. That tongue lapped at that spot by his base, slow and open, then trailed the length of him with another pleased hum.
"It is not just Saturday." He could not look down at Saïx lest he spill there and then messily over his handsome face, but Xemnas tried to tether his focus on his voice - as business-like and impassive as always despite the fact that the man was on his knees, his hands busy grasping and kneading, his mouth open and pulling wherever it could - a lovebite that was surprisingly more love than bite christened Xemnas' bare inner thigh, Saïx's sharp teeth careful enough to ensure it was a bruise and nothing more, but hearts how it made him leak. VII took advantage of that - a closed fist capturing him and pumping slickly, a mimicry of his mouth that squeezed and pulled and made the King Of All Nobodies tremble weakly.
Xemnas had no pulse, no heart to pretend he did, but that did not seem to matter to this shell of a body; it always reacted to Saïx, always had and always would and Xemnas only just had enough of a presence mentally to nudge a foot forward. As VII’s busy hand dropped to clutch at him again, the tip of Xemnas’ boot found Saïx - the apex of his spread legs, the soft vulnerable spot that lay only just beneath the painfully hard tent that pressed his uniform outward, an equal to the spot Saïx had so teasingly kissed - and his Diviner hissed against the length of his cock, all sound and no threat, all reward and infinite promise as Xemnas pushed the toe of his boot downward.
"T-" Xemnas pressed, keeping Saïx in place, and he shakily managed to look down at his second-in-command. He could feel himself throb at the sight, cock straining against VII's skin. Saïx panted and huffed, temple against his Superior's hipbone and open mouth ghosting spilling breath over his dick, the easy pressure immediately rendering his pet mindless and subdued, his control wavering. Saïx’s entire lower face was glossy with wet, shining in the low light of their sacrificial moon, spit smeared across his cheek and face beautifully and rapidly flushing at the weight of the boot. "T-tell me."
They were both wrecked. They had barely begun, usually their stamina was so much more, both of them able to last - but Saïx had all but pounced tonight, trapping Xemnas against the door and fucking him with his relentless, mindblowing throat. An act that always got them both worked up indeed, an exploit that left them both equally hungry for more, but Saïx's sheer tenacity tonight had made the air thin rapidly and both of their patiences short.
Xemnas eased up, lifted the toe of his boot - and with that measure of ownership gone, Saïx immediately swallowed him down again. All of him. Saïx engulfed him fully, eager and determined and pulling him as close as possible with a hungry desperation and low growl. Xemnas could feel him groan more than hear it, blood roaring in his ears muffling the sound but it was there, the dulcet vibration around his length - and Xemnas did not hold back this time. Hand still latched in the spikes of his adjutant's hair, he inched forward, pressing himself further into Saïx's waiting, useful mouth.
"Fuck, VII," Xemnas groaned, his other hand finally detaching from it's spot clenched reflexively on the door handle to join the other gripping at Saïx's hair. He and his pet so often battled for control - easily, and playfully, in a way, who would be on top, who would outlast the other, a game, a triumph, a fight between what wished they would be lovers, control something they both yearned for - Saïx had taken charge in this, was the one in the position of power, all of Xemnas speared into a place lined with very eager weapons in the form of teeth; but he was also always so content to give up the reins in moments like this, to go along for the ride, to have his Superior exert just a little bit of dominance over him.
After all, he was the only one permitted to do such things. He was the only one who had earned the right to even try. No one could ever, would ever, have their hands on him again. He would ensure it. Saïx was his, in totality, no matter what plans and ideas and false little promises he had. He belonged to him - always had, had always sworn to be. The Superior was the only one who would ever complete him.
And so, Xemnas hadn't it in him to feel bad as he forced Saïx's head down further, rolling his hips to meet him, keeping Saïx in place as he made use of what he gave so readily.
"That's it…."
A muffled groan, wet and half-gurgled around the weight of Xemnas in his mouth and the sheer amount of slick spat between them; Saïx's eyes screwed up closed, eyebrows arched, mouth consciously lax and open, his instincts fought against. So well behaved, subdued so easily, so loyal - it's the lack of resistance that gets Xemnas off most of all, the devotion on show. Saïx, more beast than man, all savagery and severity, might of the moon and jailor of his own chaos - on his knees, sucking with reverence, his own cock straining smothered against his thigh and all semblance of sanctimoniousness thrown out of the window to die in the pit below.
Xemnas fucks his throat. Hands wrapped hard in his cobalt hair and at the scruff of his pale neck, he forces Saïx still in order to stuff his pretty mouth full. Scarred nose pressed into silver hair, cheeks flushed and hot, the sensation of the tongue gliding rapturously against that spot again - if Saïx aims to kill him someday then Xemnas prays to their doomed future above that he does it just like this, hair messy and mouth drooling and claws sunken into the crumpled trousers at his knees. Xemnas groans loudly and openly as he feels Saïx relax and swallow, not slowing down his sharp thrusts into his silken mouth, attention on those pretty lips and the frequent gushes of wet that spills from their edges, dripping on the carpet and Saïx's taut lap.
It's messy - in any other situation his favourite pet would wrinkle his nose at the degeneracy, sneer at the prospect of things being out of place or in need of care - but like this he can't complain, the dripping crown of his master's length pressing against the spot of his tongue where such words of disdain would be born. And he knows that Saïx enjoys this, must enjoy this, as much as he does, as much as he can. He comes back for it, after all, comes back for more, comes, comes every time with little command - and when it does warrant command, it only ever makes Saïx come harder.
Thrusting into his mouth like this, control taken, given - Saïx can't answer that question, either, can't finish the dialogue that he himself started - it must matter enough for him to make comment on it, but this took priority, Xemnas took priority - his Superior, his Master, tamer of the beast and feeder of the dog. No matter what, Saïx always served, gave, took so well -
Xemnas barely registered his head laying back on the wood nor his own lip aching - he'd bitten it sharp to stop himself from being too loud, from drowning out the perfect sounds his VII was making - the lubricious sound of hips roughly, wetly meeting his chin, his desperate swallowing and choked-back groans, spluttered breaths and reedy whimpers and the creak of leather as he tried to idly chase his own pleasure, rocking minutely upward into the air, just shifting an inch or so, in order to feel anything, anything - needy VII, always so perfect, always scrabbling for what he could.
Saïx's hands - one glove abandoned - were coiled grasped at The Superior's clothes, the threat of nails as present as the threat of those fangs - a serrated sword that did not so much hang in the air as it did sit sheathed; Xemnas twisted his hand in Saïx's hair and edged him deeper, fucking his whole length in. The croaked-out groan it caused, the smothered whine - Xemnas could feel himself twitching, his end dangerously close, those little noises of whimpered satisfaction making something in his body bathe in the sense of reward.
And VII, loyal VII, deserved a reward.
A tug in that hair, a moment of reprieve, a distracting pop as Saïx's mouth was freed. He panted, open-mouthed and eyes fluttering open, swallowing reflexively at the silent order to stop. Mouth sloppily fucked open, taken and soft, Saïx huffed in the stifling night air and sat with a thread of glistening wet still connecting his tongue to Xemnas. He did not move, obedient as ever, and the pit of Xemnas' stomach rolled with satisfaction at the display.
Xemnas didn't get the chance to see Saïx look up at him - taking action before VII's mind could come back to him fully. A shift of his weight from one foot to the other, an inch forward, and the toe of his boot pressed down again, trapped Saïx's imprisoned cock against him once more. The open-mouthed panting became an open-mouthed moan, long and unbroken, Saïx's eyes involuntarily screwing shut again at the step, the motion of control, the knowledge that he was in his rightful spot.
"Haah… A-aahgh… !"
Held in place by hair and cock, beneath Xemnas' fist and boot, used and revered - Xemnas could see Saïx shaking, fangs on show, the onslaught of sensation forcing his body to tremble and bare all to keep it all together. Saïx's hot breath spilled over his wet skin, and his physical need sat heavy in the atmosphere, and it was unbearable.
The hand that fisted at the scruff of his neck slid forward - a thumb smoothing over Saïx's slippery cheek, one tip of the scar - and Xemnas pulled at the corner of those perfect, swollen lips, exposing more of those sharpened fangs, the most dangerous member of their ranks. The most unfeeling beast known to man, the most callous of creatures, the most deceptive and deadly of nonbeings and beings alike - and Xemnas toyed with his mouth, stroking over his swollen, flushed-pink lip. Saïx still did not look up at him, trusting, too taken by feeling - and so Xemnas allowed him to feel that thumb hold his mouth open before he slid home once more, slipping back down his throat smoothly. Their groans echoed each other, and Saïx's faint shaking from his own pleasure was a torment that brought the edge ever closer.
He kept that hand on his VII’s handsome jaw, ensuring his mouth stay open and lax, fully controlling him - puppeteering each greedy inch forward, manipulating his second-in-command with practised ease; Saïx was at his best when on his knees, when needy, when desperate, when totally taken - and the lack of fight makes that vein along the underside of Xemnas’ cock twitch warningly. Control - he has it over Saïx but was rapidly losing it over himself, each sharp buck forward becoming rougher and sharper and faster, more ragged, the air growing thin and too hot and too much so much so good - and each time his pelvis meets Saïx’s face the Diviner gulps and shivers and growls around the heat in his throat, always ready, always there, forever his.
Like this, body thrumming and adrenaline mounting and sensation building, building, Xemnas almost feels like a human, like a somebody, someone who can feel more than just mouth and throat and tongue and lips, lips, hearts he wants to kiss Saïx after this, he has to, he needs to, while his mouth was all tender and supple from housing him. He was so perfect at this, at everything, he could not bear it -
He feels a hand wrap around his ankle - Saïx not rocking but simply pushing himself firmly up against the flat of his boot, prone and hard beneath him, needing and asking but still focused on his goal; a reminder of his ascension to this position, his eagerness to serve, his readiness to take it and take it all - Xemnas feels it in that spot his pet likes to kiss, the tightening sensation of the end about to crash over him. He’s going to come, he’s so close, and he’s going to give Saïx everything he wants and more for as long as he can.
If he had heart, he would laugh - it is the simple, small things that do it, that have always done it - and the vessel of his essence is so very good with conscious, intricate little touches. Even like this, he is lucid and direct, and knows exactly how to puppeteer Xemnas in return.
It’s a flicker, that's all it is, all he needs - Saïx, his Isa, head held still and jaw held open, mouth filled wetly and hair a mess, opened his eyes almost lazily, contentedly, and looked directly up at his Superior then and only then, eyes auric and beautiful, and - only ever in this specific situation, every time in this specific situation - hazy and dazed and glazed over appreciatively instead of his usual sharp, piercing glare, all indifference and malice. Saïx, perfection, is as much a slave to sensation as he is - a thing to be had, a beast to be conquered, a tool to fill, with his unfocused upward focus one of devotion and need and use -
That enough is to bring Xemnas to his end - and that look is twinned with a groan, needy and wanting, those eyes fluttering - Xemnas arches against the door, shoved in blunt and hot as he spills against his tongue, pressing against the hum, quaking against the vibration of that voice, that perfect throat. White-hot fire rending his nerves apart, pure and overwhelming heat and bliss emanating through him, obliterating him into pieces. He feels it, all of it, and it is the most he has ever felt, every time, every single time - and he feels Saïx swallowing all of him, accepting every drop, a spluttery and wanting sound making its way from his filled throat, airy and crooning and pleased.
He bucks into Saïx’s mouth stutteringly, fingers grasping sharp at his scalp and chin, and Xemnas moaned long and brokenly at the sensation of flooding that mouth full, that tongue ever still trying to coax out more, more, Saïx always wants more. It makes him twitch and throb, a rapid thrum of blood beneath his skin now edged with a sensitivity so sharp that he knows his pet, merciless and starving can all but taste that, too. He feels himself shake, and he feels Saïx swallow around him, and he feels the edge of those lips quirk around him, just slightly, prey in the mouth of a predator, control taken back, the air still too thin to breathe. He feels, and all he feels is Saïx, and he’s empty, empty, emptying into him in thick gushes that steal his breath and thoughts and limited sense of self.
He rapidly feels raw and overstimulated, that unabating suction taking all he could give, dutiful and enamoured with the idea of service; Xemnas gasps and pants, as if hit in the chest by an unrelenting force - and perhaps he has been. It feels like damage, the loss of a fight; shuddering as his body threatens to give out, spent inside of his Diviner's hot, tantalizing mouth, offering his all to the victor, smug on the carpet.
He has half a mind to lightly grind his boot downwards, reward, good, ache, deserved - but, struck by sensation and caught in feeling, Xemnas only quakes, unbalanced, and manages slowly to look back down as those waves of sensation fizzle into warmth and pleasantry. He’s sensitized and shaken, and it is the best thing he has the ability to imagine. Its all he ever wants to remember. The sensation. The sight. Saïx.
Those eyes are still on him. His hands are still on Saïx. It's an equal exchange, and for a creature on his knees VII certainly knows how to domineer. Xemnas lets his hands go slack - the grasp in Saïx’s hair lazily pet, and the hand and his jaw lazily strokes, and now that the urgency has gone, Xemnas lazily sags, touch reverent and body heavy. VII is so wonderful. Its all he has the mind to think of. VII is so wonderful.
Another wet swallow around him, before Saïx pulled away slowly; the same motion as before, a long drag of lips and tongue and glide, all slick and ease and a final kiss as they part. A soft pop as their connection broke, before VII’s gloved hand came up; a knuckle met his own lips as Saïx covered his mouth and swallowed again, ensuring that there was no waste, no mess, nothing left behind. Meticulous and efficient and perfect, as always. The sight makes Xemnas twitch against his mouth, wet and spent, tender, eager to return to that warmth.
And warmth was what he got. VII, always so cold and distant and cruel, looked up at Xemnas and the edge of those pretty lips curled, a smile that was something only his Lord ever saw. Content, or as content as something like Saïx could be. The business-like edge to his voice had been worn down by his throats usage, Saïx’s tone now softened and abraded instead. He seemed pleased - and only partially due to the fact that some aspect of him was full now.
"It's been seven years to the day. Happy anniversary, Superior."
Ah.
Xemnas ought to check that desk calendar more often.
But first - he lifts his boot, and extends a hand downwards. VII, wonderful and here, his equal, is due his reward, after all.