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There’s something about Bam that made it harder for him to concentrate. The words fell to deaf ears as he stared at the face of the young Slayer candidate. Bam was by no means delicate, but the soft curve of his face, the way his massive golden eyes narrowed in thought at the prospect of lost lives they’ve caused to save Jinsung, the prized master of his companion and the Slayer candidate, stroke a deep carnal want inside of him.
It left him in a state of limbo, between wanting to savor the screams Bam made when something went against their plan, and crushing said wrench that caused him such pain.
It was confusing, the wants he felt when Bam was near him. He wanted to feel the way Bam’s jugular felt beneath his fingers, the way it would beat when he pressed a little too hard, restricting the airflow from going into his lungs. It would be sinful, he thinks, when Bam finally gasped to let him go. The glow in his eyes seared something deep inside of him, the way Bam said his name; “White, w-what are you doing?” pulled a satisfied smirk on his face.
White stroked Bam’s cheek with his knuckles tenderly, and the shudder that wracked his body made White chuckle. “Ah, to be so lively...”
White crowded his space, pushing him all the way to the ship’s hull. Bam rests his hands on White’s broad chest, vainly trying to stop his advance as White leaned down; his long white hair brushing against Bam’s face, and those golden eyes darkened in confusion.
His lips was shy of touching Bam’s earlobe as he whispered dark intent; White wanted to eat him, take his soul, and burn it with the intensity of thousand suns. He would be so powerful, even Jahad would have had a hard time landing a scratch on his unblemished skin.
Bam pushed him, insistent. And White reluctantly let him go. His warning of “Enough, White. We have a war to win.” had left him with growing anticipation.
To think the previously naive boy had grown this much, even willing to sacrifice lives in order to achieve his goals, had soothed the voices inside his head; those that whispers White should lay claim on him, take him, make him his, lock him somewhere only White has access to, make him forget everything–
Ah, but that would spoil the taste of his soul, no? A body without a mind was nothing but a stale corpse. It would only defeat the purpose of nurturing him until he becomes the monster they prophesied him, the thorn that would slay the King’s throat.
Against his desires, he could do nothing but hold back.
Bam’s prized light bearer made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.
He’s suspicious, at first. No one was stupid enough to return him to his full power. Even the Slayer candidate had been reluctant, considering the cost of him in his prime was millions of souls. And even that wasn’t enough.
However, he recognized the glint in the light bearer’s eyes. His protective instinct had always been for Bam, and the possessive quality in his desires resonate deeply with White. He knows how it feels; wanting something you can’t obtain, you can’t posses, and have it hovered so close you can grasp it… no, he had to hold back. Just like how Khun held himself in check whenever the Slayer candidate was near him.
He knew that Khun shared the sentiment. And the wordless exchange full of knowing looks and underhanded deals almost made him want to share.
But White was a selfish creature; he does not share. Not in power, not on the throne he once occupied, and more importantly…
Not the Slayer candidate.