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Killer had been observing Color’s fangs for some time. Unlike Cross, whose fangs were sharp and well-pronounced that they protruded from his mouth, Color’s fangs were more rounded at the tips of his cuspids. It was hard to catch a glimpse of the elusive canines unless Color opened his mouth wide enough to reveal them.
The times he did were moments of intimate susceptibility; when he ate, when he snored as he slept, when he brushed his teeth.
And now, when he stretched his arms behind his skull and arched his spine, his mouth opened wide to reveal those elusive fangs.
When the noetic concept struck, impulsive and pressing, Killer did what he usually did when the inexplicable urge to act struck him.
He acted upon it.
Color made a startled, choking sound. Made sense, considering Killer had shoved half of his arm inside his oral orifice, his radius and ulna deep within the intense heat and warmth of his instinctively evoked false throat.
“Wamvaffuuhillah?” Color’s eye welled with reflexive tears from the stimulation. Attempting to verbalize around the bones shoved deep within his maw rewarded him with more gurgles and chokes from his throat’s convulsion.
“Dunno.” Killer shrugged. His voided sockets crinkled into upturned crescents and he winked.
Color’s fangs glide and press against his humerus and he shudders. Another thought, just as intrusive and sudden and all too appealing as the first appeared and Killer’s mouth ran with it. “Want you to bite me.”
Exasperation and what may have been a sigh. Hard to tell with a gurgled mouthful.
“Aga?”
Killer countered, “Yeah, why not?” His grin grew further, all sharp angles and far too wide for a “normal” smile, it often sent unwelcome shivers down the sights of those who perceived it. To Color, however, it was familiar. “Call it pervasive scientific curiosity of the unknown.”
The sight of his best friend with shadows of an eyelight flickering within his right socket, Color recognized the playful gleam in Killer’s eyes.
A singular sharp claw on his unoccupied hand tapped the dragon charm dangling on Color’s collar. The jewel tinged with a soft, lighter than air sound that could be mistaken for a bell.
“Unless the magic dragon boy is all puff and no bite?”
Color snorted and rolled his eye at Killer’s joke.
Color didn’t know why Killer had the unusual requests he did. Most of the time when impulse beckoned to him like a siren’s song, Killer dived in and answered the call without another thought of the repercussions or consequences of his actions. Or he knew, and reasoned whatever justifications he may have had to act on said impulses.
Most of the time they were harmless. Other times they invaded Color’s personal space but then again, he had made the exception for Killer. A liberty Killer enjoyed far too much, given how he’d joke that Color’s personal bubble was his own playground and the current situation the pyro-afflicted skeleton found himself in.
“Bite me,” Killer warned, “or I’ll bite you.
A phantom memory of Killer chasing Color through a forest, colliding with him and they tangle in a mess of snarling limbs and swipes until Killer managed to pin his arms and legs and clamp down on his cervical vertebrae, razor sharp cuspids piercing fragile bone down to the marrow, his magic joining with Color’s and flooding him with his Intent.
I win/Submit/Habibi/Part of the Pack
A shudder ran down Color’s spine.
Sometimes it felt like the angelkin was more draconic, more feral, than the dragonkin himself was.
It was only one of many things he adored about his best friend.
He didn’t know why Killer brought out this side of him either. For anyone else, Color would shove their arm out of his maw, wipe his mouth clean, and get on his merry way. But Killer had the uncanny gift of knowing a side to Color he himself didn’t previously know existed and called it out. A playful, slumbering dragon that rested happily within the warmth of his mana that blazed to life under the familiar challenge, a welcome call to play.
Game on.
Color’s eyelight narrowed into a slit. A low, warning growl rumbled deep within his chest and rattled his ribcage. Killer’s own bones rattled in response, the vibrato of his growls an echo of pleased yet wary purrs, their heated gazes locked onto the other as both refused to give up.
Endurance was the game and they would see who would break first.
Shifting between the particles of the multiverse and grasping at code from making a jump from point a to b in mere seconds, a shortcut. The casual displacement of space and time result in a magic ‘poof’ as three friends teleport into their friend’s home.
“Yooo Coooooo-looooor~!” Epic called out. “Me an’ the bois are here f’r our hang sesh! What's up buddy?”
Silence.
Epic’s smile dropped at the corners. “Huh, weird. Coulda sworn he said we’d hang ‘round now.” He plopped down onto the couch, throwing one leg over the other, he pulled out his phone and started scrolling through their group chat.
“Maybe we got the time wrong?” Delta offered, his orange eyelights flickering around the empty living room, darting to the couch and kitchenette on the side. He perked up once he spotted the snack basket on the counter, strolling over to pull out a pack of freeze-dried fruit covered in yogurt, grateful that Color always remembered to have their favorite snacks at the ready.
“No,” Cross followed after Epic and sat down beside him, leaning over Epic to browse through the chat with him. “I remember he said we’d meet up by now.” Epic leaned back against him, knocking their skulls together with a soft bonk . He held his phone out close for Cross to get an easier look and Cross nuzzled him in silent thanks.
“Maybe he’s out?” Epic guessed. “He is runnin’ low on cardstock an’ stickers. Maybe he went out on a quick scrapbook supply run?”
Delta shrugged and sat down on Epic’s opposite side. “Eh, maybe.” He offered Epic a bag of cookies to which Epic squealed his thanks and abruptly grabbed the bag to feast on his favorite treats. “Feels like he’s nearby, though.”
“Might be with Killer,” Cross added. “I can feel his DT around.”
“Could it just be the residual magic?” Delta reasoned. Cross shook his head. “‘Cause I can feel Color’s Bravery nearby too.”
“Nah, it feels recent.”
“So maybe they went on a run toge—”
“Aaaaahhhnnnnnnn…”
Epic was abruptly interrupted by a gurgled sound, a long, soft moan filtered out from Color’s bedroom down the hall. The three skeletons immediately went silent as they processed what they just heard.
Then they choked.
“AY YO ANÓ BA ‘YAN—! ” Delta and cross hastily slapped their claws onto Epic’s mouth, muffling him and shushing him. Epic’s wide eyes and startled violet blush was mirrored by the saffron and lilac mana dusting Delta’s and Cross’s complexions respectively.
“Epic!” Cross hissed. “¡Cállate! Y-you can’t just yell like that h-he’s! Well!” Poor Cross, his entire skull flushed purple, could barely stammer out their collective realization. “He can’t, just!” Cross stuttered.
“He’s busy,” Delta finished for Cross. “I mean I’m surprised Color didn’t mention he’d have somebody over,” he wondered aloud, “he said we could hang out around this time, and that Killer would be around…too…” Delta trailed off.
Delta and Cross’s claws dropped in simultaneous, dumbfounded epiphany.
Cross couldn’t believe it. “I feel Killer and Color nearby, and,” all three gaped at one another. “Color said Killer would be around…”
“Holy shit.”
Another choked moan. It was an unmistakably wet sound, someone gurgling, and the harder they listened, the clearer it was to perceive faint, pleased purrs and low growls and a husky, murmured voice uttering silken words in a language they couldn’t understand.
Epic slowly stood onto his feet, the other two following out of habit as they moved on bewildered autopilot. “We should leave. I—oh my stars,” Epic shook his head. “I never knew he had it in him…” Epic’s eyes widened in disbelief and with newfound clarity he whirled around and covered Cross’s sockets. “BRUH don’t listen, you're too young, too innocent!”
“Epic!” Cross complained. “How in the world does covering my eyesockets make me not hear?!” His claws curled around Epic’s hands to gently but insistently pull them off his face. “Let go of me. I’m a grown man like the rest of you! I can hear whatever stuff I wanna.”
“Why would you want to?” Delta interjected. “ None of us should be listening to this.” As he spoke, Delta nodded, affirming to himself and the others. “Yeah, we need to go.”
Epic nodded in agreement. “No, no you’re right. Sorry, was just real shocked for a moment there.”
Cross slung an arm around Epic’s shoulders and squeezed him, Delta following suit by looping his arm into Epic’s. “We all are, but it’s their private business.” He grumbled under his breath. “Even tho’ Color can do so much better than Killer.”
Epic’s hand curled around the doorknob while he planned aloud. “We can call him later, maybe, in a while and then if he’s done, we could head over later and ask him about it.”
“Sounds good to me,” Cross agreed.
SNAP!
A muffled, drawn out scream.
Delta’s robotic arms flared and his eyelights blazed. He spun around so fast he nearly knocked the others over.
“Privacy except when he tries to hurt him the bastard!”
“Delta wait!” Epic and Cross chased after the infuriated skeleton.
“No!” Delta dodged them and quickly closed in on Color’s bedroom door. “They have every right to engage in whatever they want but breaking his goddamn bones is not safe, sane or consensual!” In a last ditch effort of panic the two best friends dived at their friend’s boots and clung onto him to cease his momentum.
Delta was a powerhouse of self righteous fury and plowed on. “We gotta help him! Hang on, Color! I’m coming!”
Epic didn’t even have time to make a “That’s what she said” joke, both he and Cross both struck with the horrified realization of the inevitable that Delta was about to do.
“Wait, no we can’t Delta! For all we know it could be consensual, don’t—!” Delta ignored the duo’s pleads and kicked the door down.
“ Let go of him you— ! Wait. What the hell? ”
Killer’s entire lower arm was shoved down Color’s throat while Color bit into Killer’s arm. Likewise, Killer had taken Color’s left arm and sunk his own fangs into Color’s humerus. Thin spiderwebbed cracks spread out on the fragile bone from the point of contact.
For a moment, all everyone did was stare, uncomprehending, at the sight.
Until Killer broke it.
He let go of Color’s arm, his evoked tongue running over his bloodied fangs as he beamed and cheerfully waved “hello” with his now unoccupied arm. “This is exactly what it looks like.”
“…dayum.” Epic whistled, low and impressed.
“Oh. So you weren’t—okay.” Cross nodded. “See? Everything’s fine. They’re just biting.”
“Yeah.” Color finally spoke. He coughed slightly and had to clear his throat to ease the soreness of the magical construct. “Sorry about that. Totally forgot we were gonna hang today.”
“What the hell.” Delta muttered.
“Ayy no worries man. You were in a biting contest with Killer, no big. Me an’ Criss-Cross do that all the time.”
“What the hell.” Delta repeated from that new tidbit of information.
“Uh huh. Actually,” Cross clacked his suddenly aching teeth. His mouth watered. “Mind if we do that too actually? Now I wanna bite something.”
“Say no more bruh,” Epic propped himself up to sit beside Cross and offered his arm.
The tense rigidity of Delta’s form fell while his face went blank with his own epiphany. “I’m surrounded by freaks.”
“You don’t wanna join, Delta?” Killer teased. “Come on, It’s like sparring! First to tap out loses.”
He spun on his heel. “I’m out.” With the bedroom door open, the rest of the friends could see Delta beeline straight for the couch and plop down, face first, onto the sofa.
“I think we broke him,” Color’s brows furrowed in concern.
“He’ll be fiiiiiine.” Epic soothed. Cross hummed in agreement from where he gnawed happily on his humerus. “When we’re done if he’s still broke we can fix ‘im right up with some good ole cuddles ‘n’ snacks. Maybe start off the hang sesh with movies insteada games since he’s still rebooting.”
“Sounds good. You down for that plan Delta?” Color called.
Delta mutely raised his arm with a thumbs up before he let the robotic limb plop back down onto the cushions.
“See? Fine. Now gimme your arm Imma bite you too.”
Delta’s “I’m surrounded by freaks” was unheard, on account of him bemoaning this from where his skull was buried into the sofa cushions.