[ It does what it's supposed to — Theo's intent is to flip so he does, perhaps inserting some of Cellar's lessons into the element of surprise. Dom's back hits item no. who the fuck knows that was thrown and broken on the floor, arching his back away from the sharp pain, what would normally be a grimace something far more animalistic. Adorned with fangs and a mouth made to rip flesh off bones, he grabs Theo's face, listens to his heartbeat and wonders how fast hatred is making his blood pump. Despite what he said, the sigil is still pulsing from his skin, fueling a fight for dominance, not destruction.
Wrestling, turning them around again, Dom keeps going, crying out if Theo ever uses magic to make it hurt, but refusing to ever back down. He won't stop until he has Theo on his stomach, facing the floor to leave his nape exposed, Dom pinning him down with his weight on his lower back, dipping to smell the back of his neck, heavy breathing from exertion, from excitement. ]
Mine.
[ His to love. His to hurt. Dom opens his mouth wide, bites down to write his claim in Theo's blood. ]
[Theo would say he did give this his all, more or less. They flopped around, grappling, and he tried to remember what he knew from Cellar's lessons to keep himself from being woefully overpowered. But Dom's strength wins out, especially since post-mark removal, Theo's lost the instinctive touch of dark magic that would've by now coated his arms in scaly black and fed him strength in equal parts corruptive to the sigil's influence on Dom. Instead he just seems to pull his natural energy forth in its place, keeping his body limber, staving off any hint of tiredness during their fight.
He tries to push up from the floor with both arms, but Dom's weight is too hard to throw off - he feels the heat of his breath on his neck and pauses instinctively. He swallows hard, letting out a squeak of a moan when Dom's teeth sink into him, harder than he expects. But his body is already trying to heal it, thrumming with energy, so he's not afraid. Never would he be, even if he couldn't heal because...]
... D-Dom...
[That feels good. He's not fighting the same way - he's lax.]
[ He makes a little whine, teeth sharp and made to sink and burn and feel Theo's blood start to pool at his gums. Dom clamps down harder, clawed hands grabbing his boyfriend's shoulders, taking the lack of resistance as sweet submission.
Like he's gasping for air, Dom releases Theo's neck to look at the damage, the blood, to lament and love what he's done at the same time, wondering if this is what the wolf did the night their wards didn't work. Theo talked about it, but he was never explicit, for some reason or another. Even if he had all the details in the world, though, nothing would be a substitute for Dom remembering it himself. For actually knowing what it's like.
Just as urgently, Dom washes his tongue over the gashes healing up quickly, greedily taking back the blood that's meant to be his before Theo's magic reclaims it. Thinking over and over the word mine, meu, he marks the other man's shoulder next, just as reckless and violently needy. Mouth and chin red all over, the boy breaks through for a moment: ]
Is this what it did? Is this why I want to hurt you?
[Theo lets out a muffled cry, far from upset or fearful - it's a mix of pained and something else, a hint of self-punishment mixed in with the usual feeling that he often deserves what he gets in scenarios like this - and liking it only makes it more conflicting. Dom is licking at the wounds while they burn, a cool edge rushing in soon after, that knits the skin together and relaxes him up until Dom moves to the other side.
Why's he panting already? He laughs, too. Spectator in his own body:]
It did a lot more than that.
[Theo presses back against Dom, for a moment it's to grind his ass back up toward him - but then he's pushing his palms to the ground and trying to wrench free of him. Is he, though? Or is he just trying to get Dom to exert a little more of that possessive force? He feels a surge of twisted, horny wrath going through him. It makes him clench his teeth. Makes him want to sink his nails back into Dom, too.]
[ It's fascinating, infuriating, how much faster Theo heals now, free of his own sigil to become more powerful than the Teddie Dom left back home. The boyfriend he doesn't think he could do this to (but he has, he just doesn't remember, same as with Theo), but wants to imagine reacting in the same way — hurting, then asking for more. Dom's pants are already taut when he's woken up by the pressure of Theo rubbing up against him, a shaken breath through longer teeth, but then it looks like he's trying to get up to get away, so Dom's hand immediately weighs down between his shoulder blades, keeping most of him flat on the floor. ]
No, you're not getting up.
[ But then Theo tells him what he actually wants, and Dom feels the darkness of his encounter with Death's spirit flooding again. He grabs Theo's shirt, pulls it up and off his shoulders, throws it aside; curls his fingers and sinks his claws on each half of an exposed back. Sometimes, mostly in dreams, Dom gets flashes of memories from his altered state — most have been in the rooms his mothers built to keep a wolf that kept growing bigger as he aged, then to keep him and others safe. They aren't pleasant or exciting, and the ones from the fortunately few instances where he got away or didn't manage to make it back home in time are… exciting, but often not pleasant, and he can never be completely sure that they're all real. There are some he really wants to remember, though. Like the night Teddie found him and brought him home. The night Theo's wards didn't work and he had to keep a monster distracted. ]
[Theo is surprised by how fast and forceful Dom can be, when he wants to. The same tentative soul that seems almost a little too meek some days can flip a switch like this, and embrace that more animalistic side. He grunts, wriggling a little bit more but remains unsuccessful in evading the pressure Dom puts on him. He lets out a pained hiss when he feels nails dig into him, almost wishing they'd drag down the whole of his back - and then wondering what about that felt so exciting for a second.
He breathes hard, tilting his head so his cheek is on the ground and one eye can barely cast a glance back at him. He decides he wants to emphasize:]
It didn't do anything. You want me to tell you what you did.
[Another grunt.]
You want to know what you want to do. Why don't you tell me?
[ It makes his heart sink, changes Dom's expression and leads him to falter a little, one breath suddenly harder to take than the last. Dom spends so much time calling himself a monster yet craving what it can do; distances himself but lets it be the catalyst for self-hatred all the same. To say he has issues to work out is the least of it, but hearing Theo say that makes them break right back out of the box he so often shoves them into, from force back to hesitation. ]
I'm— I'm not…
[ I'm not it, but to say that would imply he believes it's true. Dom already said too much just moments ago: I want to hurt you. I want to see your blood and know it was me. I want to be the one who takes it from you. He never said it wants.
Finally, pained, guilty: ]
Because I don't remember. [ He leans back down, forehead against Theo's back, hiding for yet another confession. ] I never remember what [ A beat, ] I do, and I don't know what's real anymore. Which one of me is this supposed to be?
[ The one that hurts Theo and savors his blood in the aftermath. It can't be the part of him that's meant to not be a monster. ]
[Theo's breathing hard, feeling the weight of Dom behind him - tethered together by touch. He listens, uncertain about what he can truly do to help him - but there is only one thought that comes to mind. He doesn't rock back so much as he slowly presses back against Dom, feeling the floor dig into his knees. There's no real movement, but he wants Dom to feel him.]
Even when you're - that version of yourself, you never really want to hurt me.
[Theo says, at least - from his own perspective on it.]
You can be rough, but that's - that's your nature. I like it. I like the way you care about me, even when you're riled up. You treat me like I'm yours and I like that, Dom. So treat me like that now. Give - give it a taste?
[ There's a small groan when Theo moves into him again, a responsive shift in his hips that comes very close to being a slow thrust, painfully stiff and craving more contact. His mouth stays close to his back when he lifts his head, lips parted and fangs sticking out, needing another bite. Theo is right. Dom doesn't want to get jealous, but he gets possessive when they're together, and 'like that' is no longer enough. He can't help it. He can't leave a mark at all, either.
He bares his teeth, frustrated. His claws relent before they dig in again, a cutting clutch where Theo's neck and shoulder meet to keep him from moving. Dom remembers tasting his blood from moments ago, remembers what he tasted between that girl's legs at prom, head spinning with the desire he struggled with back then and what he sees now; he gives Theo what they both want and punishes him at the same time, teeth sinking deep, anchored in flesh, making a low noise in his throat. He doesn't relax his jaw when he pulls away, tearing skin, panting while his mouth drips with blood and saliva. ]
[Theo lets out a soft pained grunt when Dom's nails dig into him - the beating of his heart quickens, but so does the unrestricted flow of magic; knitting skin back together where it tears. Which helps when a moment later he lets out another pained cry from the back of his throat - feeling the heat of blood running down his neck in rivulets; metallic scent heavier in the air, strong to even Theo's nose.]
Fuck-
[Theo tries to press back against Dom again, finding this sense of - rigidity unwavering; he wants to hurt him back, wants him to feel what he feels. That sigil might a well be burning itself into Theo's skin, mixed with a sweetly masochistic whimper at being at Dom's mercy.]
[ The cry might as well be a hit, a new addition that's meant to go together with the taste of his blood, pooling on Theo's back while magic gets back to work. His hips press forward again, a little moan at the pressure and friction on his dick. Dom licks at his own mouth, laps up the mess, makes a pathetic noise of blissed out desperation for more.
This isn't him. It is. He shouldn't want it to be, but it feels like there's nothing else anymore. ]
[Theo lets out another hiss through his teeth, feeling the sticky warmth of blood smeared over his skin and the way that Dom is enthralled by it. He likes the feeling of being desirable like that, driving someone wild, even if it's probably a bad idea to indulge this way. But he can't think straight, he just wants that indulgence. So he bows his head, panting, pressing back against Dom.]
I'm yours- I'm yours, Dom. Yours to have. Yours to take.
[ The air leaves his lungs, a sudden breath when Theo gives in and tells him what he wants to hear. Dom stays in that moment, like his body is frozen by the shocking gratification of it, the energy that mounts in his muscles and builds up more of that reckless desire to mark his boyfriend. The boy hasn't been in his right mind for a while, a cocktail of lust and wrath that burns the inside of his mouth until he does something about it, he backs away enough to roll Theo on his side and get his arm out of the way, staring down the side of his torso… at the same spot that marked the birth of a werewolf in himself. He comes down to bite that next.]
[Theo was anticipating something else, so the movement is distracting - same with the way Dom moves, but he doesn't push him away even when he dips to bite. He just finds himself encouraging it - hissing aloud, reaching for Dom, hand in his hair, welcoming the pinch of his teeth in a truly reckless way.]
[ It spurs him on, makes him more insistent, all pointed teeth and fangs sinking and sliding once skin is broken, the smell and taste of blood pooling and staining his mouth. Dom moans into the largest bite so far, feverishly thinking he'll be like me, we'll be the same, he'll know what it's like, we'll be together forever. This could never turn Theo into a werewolf; to this day Dom isn't entirely sure how the curse is passed on, but what if — what if instead of a curse it was their bond?
He's panting when he lets go, looking more delirious and bloodthirsty than ever. Sloppily wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, Dom licks Theo's newest wounds like it's a kiss. ]
I love you, [ Muttered, kissing and swiping his tongue. ] I love your blood.
[It hurts - it's the sharpest kind of hurt, too, making Theo gasp before he's biting his lip to stifle any further cries. There's some part of Theo that has and always will find himself so easily put into a situation like this - willing to be bent or broken, harmed or hurt, by the hands of his lovers. But unlike many times before, this isn't a relationship that is designed to contain him - it isn't one of one sided possession alone. Dom and he have a bond, one that may not be perfect in everyone's eyes but to Theo... he's choosing this. Choosing to feel his boyfriend bite him, allowing himself without judgement to enjoy it.
His magic thrums within him, like a cool trickle of water; it bleeds out through his wounds, through his blood, regenerating his skin beneath Dom's lips in a steady pulse. Meanwhile, Dom is asking him to return this favor and he, panting too, turns to him.]
I can't do what I used to be able to - with the claws, the blood magic. How else - tell me how, and I will.
[ There's urgency in him, the helplessness of a creature who wants something so bad and can't possibly explain exactly how. Dom helps Theo turn around, hanging over him, breathing hard, something vulnerable trying to break through the feral thing that's taken over his claws, his fangs, his eyes. ]
[His voice is soft but not quiet - he swallows hard, reaching for Dom to pull him close. He starts with another kiss because the motion of putting his mouth to Dom's neck leads him to that so naturally. But then he starts to nip, starts to bite, testing his teeth against his skin. All the while his magic thrums through him, healing away any marks on his skin before he starts channeling it into something else - for the first time. He wants there to be bite to his bite, so he focuses on that, giving himself a little more power behind the first hard bite of Dom's shoulder. He staggers it, pushing mentally through the block that comes from being in his own head, clamping down tighter still after that.]
[ Dom's eyes are open when Theo bites down, mouth gaping after a shaky moan, muscles tense and skin louder the harder teeth clench. The jolt of arousal is so sudden and heavy that he thinks he might come in a few more seconds, gripping Theo's arm, holding his breath with a grunt. A shiver blooms down his whole body, arms covered in goosebumps; precome overflows and marks a wet spot in his clothes, cock begging to jerk free and hang at full mast. ]
Y-yeah—
[ He shifts, hips against Theo's groin, blindly chasing friction and pressure against the rigid curve of his bulge in slow humps. ]
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Wrestling, turning them around again, Dom keeps going, crying out if Theo ever uses magic to make it hurt, but refusing to ever back down. He won't stop until he has Theo on his stomach, facing the floor to leave his nape exposed, Dom pinning him down with his weight on his lower back, dipping to smell the back of his neck, heavy breathing from exertion, from excitement. ]
Mine.
[ His to love. His to hurt. Dom opens his mouth wide, bites down to write his claim in Theo's blood. ]
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He tries to push up from the floor with both arms, but Dom's weight is too hard to throw off - he feels the heat of his breath on his neck and pauses instinctively. He swallows hard, letting out a squeak of a moan when Dom's teeth sink into him, harder than he expects. But his body is already trying to heal it, thrumming with energy, so he's not afraid. Never would he be, even if he couldn't heal because...]
... D-Dom...
[That feels good. He's not fighting the same way - he's lax.]
Harder.
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Like he's gasping for air, Dom releases Theo's neck to look at the damage, the blood, to lament and love what he's done at the same time, wondering if this is what the wolf did the night their wards didn't work. Theo talked about it, but he was never explicit, for some reason or another. Even if he had all the details in the world, though, nothing would be a substitute for Dom remembering it himself. For actually knowing what it's like.
Just as urgently, Dom washes his tongue over the gashes healing up quickly, greedily taking back the blood that's meant to be his before Theo's magic reclaims it. Thinking over and over the word mine, meu, he marks the other man's shoulder next, just as reckless and violently needy. Mouth and chin red all over, the boy breaks through for a moment: ]
Is this what it did? Is this why I want to hurt you?
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Why's he panting already? He laughs, too. Spectator in his own body:]
It did a lot more than that.
[Theo presses back against Dom, for a moment it's to grind his ass back up toward him - but then he's pushing his palms to the ground and trying to wrench free of him. Is he, though? Or is he just trying to get Dom to exert a little more of that possessive force? He feels a surge of twisted, horny wrath going through him. It makes him clench his teeth. Makes him want to sink his nails back into Dom, too.]
Mark me better than that. Come on.
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No, you're not getting up.
[ But then Theo tells him what he actually wants, and Dom feels the darkness of his encounter with Death's spirit flooding again. He grabs Theo's shirt, pulls it up and off his shoulders, throws it aside; curls his fingers and sinks his claws on each half of an exposed back. Sometimes, mostly in dreams, Dom gets flashes of memories from his altered state — most have been in the rooms his mothers built to keep a wolf that kept growing bigger as he aged, then to keep him and others safe. They aren't pleasant or exciting, and the ones from the fortunately few instances where he got away or didn't manage to make it back home in time are… exciting, but often not pleasant, and he can never be completely sure that they're all real. There are some he really wants to remember, though. Like the night Teddie found him and brought him home. The night Theo's wards didn't work and he had to keep a monster distracted. ]
Tell me what it did, Teddie.
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[Theo is surprised by how fast and forceful Dom can be, when he wants to. The same tentative soul that seems almost a little too meek some days can flip a switch like this, and embrace that more animalistic side. He grunts, wriggling a little bit more but remains unsuccessful in evading the pressure Dom puts on him. He lets out a pained hiss when he feels nails dig into him, almost wishing they'd drag down the whole of his back - and then wondering what about that felt so exciting for a second.
He breathes hard, tilting his head so his cheek is on the ground and one eye can barely cast a glance back at him. He decides he wants to emphasize:]
It didn't do anything. You want me to tell you what you did.
[Another grunt.]
You want to know what you want to do. Why don't you tell me?
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I'm— I'm not…
[ I'm not it, but to say that would imply he believes it's true. Dom already said too much just moments ago: I want to hurt you. I want to see your blood and know it was me. I want to be the one who takes it from you. He never said it wants.
Finally, pained, guilty: ]
Because I don't remember. [ He leans back down, forehead against Theo's back, hiding for yet another confession. ] I never remember what [ A beat, ] I do, and I don't know what's real anymore. Which one of me is this supposed to be?
[ The one that hurts Theo and savors his blood in the aftermath. It can't be the part of him that's meant to not be a monster. ]
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Even when you're - that version of yourself, you never really want to hurt me.
[Theo says, at least - from his own perspective on it.]
You can be rough, but that's - that's your nature. I like it. I like the way you care about me, even when you're riled up. You treat me like I'm yours and I like that, Dom. So treat me like that now. Give - give it a taste?
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He bares his teeth, frustrated. His claws relent before they dig in again, a cutting clutch where Theo's neck and shoulder meet to keep him from moving. Dom remembers tasting his blood from moments ago, remembers what he tasted between that girl's legs at prom, head spinning with the desire he struggled with back then and what he sees now; he gives Theo what they both want and punishes him at the same time, teeth sinking deep, anchored in flesh, making a low noise in his throat. He doesn't relax his jaw when he pulls away, tearing skin, panting while his mouth drips with blood and saliva. ]
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Fuck-
[Theo tries to press back against Dom again, finding this sense of - rigidity unwavering; he wants to hurt him back, wants him to feel what he feels. That sigil might a well be burning itself into Theo's skin, mixed with a sweetly masochistic whimper at being at Dom's mercy.]
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This isn't him. It is. He shouldn't want it to be, but it feels like there's nothing else anymore. ]
Say… say it.
[ You treat me like I'm yours isn't enough. ]
You're mine.
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[Theo lets out another hiss through his teeth, feeling the sticky warmth of blood smeared over his skin and the way that Dom is enthralled by it. He likes the feeling of being desirable like that, driving someone wild, even if it's probably a bad idea to indulge this way. But he can't think straight, he just wants that indulgence. So he bows his head, panting, pressing back against Dom.]
I'm yours- I'm yours, Dom. Yours to have. Yours to take.
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Harder - c'mon, yeah, yeah...
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He's panting when he lets go, looking more delirious and bloodthirsty than ever. Sloppily wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, Dom licks Theo's newest wounds like it's a kiss. ]
I love you, [ Muttered, kissing and swiping his tongue. ] I love your blood.
Teddie, I — I need you to hurt me back.
[ His cock twitches. ]
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His magic thrums within him, like a cool trickle of water; it bleeds out through his wounds, through his blood, regenerating his skin beneath Dom's lips in a steady pulse. Meanwhile, Dom is asking him to return this favor and he, panting too, turns to him.]
I can't do what I used to be able to - with the claws, the blood magic. How else - tell me how, and I will.
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Use your teeth.
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[His voice is soft but not quiet - he swallows hard, reaching for Dom to pull him close. He starts with another kiss because the motion of putting his mouth to Dom's neck leads him to that so naturally. But then he starts to nip, starts to bite, testing his teeth against his skin. All the while his magic thrums through him, healing away any marks on his skin before he starts channeling it into something else - for the first time. He wants there to be bite to his bite, so he focuses on that, giving himself a little more power behind the first hard bite of Dom's shoulder. He staggers it, pushing mentally through the block that comes from being in his own head, clamping down tighter still after that.]
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Y-yeah—
[ He shifts, hips against Theo's groin, blindly chasing friction and pressure against the rigid curve of his bulge in slow humps. ]