Chapter Text
Dance took a shortcut to Lust's apartment, wanting, needing, a little warmth and stability.
It was only when he got there, and found Red sleeping on the couch, alone, that Dance remembered Lust had work today too. Dance stepped closer to the couch, looking over Red. He'd had a shower, now wearing a mustard yellow shirt and red boxer shorts. A lilac blanket with pink bone prints was crumpled on the floor by the couch, having apparently slid off of him at some point after he'd drifted. He was clutching to one of the cushions, snoring softly as he drooled on it.
Red's coat was there on the back of the couch, unoccupied at the moment.
Dance seriously considered borrowing it. Just for a little while. Just for a bit. Just until Red wakes up and he can try talking this out again.
Dance shook his head, turning his attention to Red himself.
The video echoed in his head, shifting back and forth between the third person perspective and the hazy, shredded memories diluted by alcohol.
Dance picked up the discarded blanket, leaning over Red to tuck it around him. Before he could pull back, Red's claw snaked out, snatching at Dance's wrist, his hold tight and unyielding. Red's socket snapped open, sharp and dangerous. Dance stared back at him, a shiver of fear shaking him to his core, that maybe he had been right all along, maybe it had all been a trick, maybe-!
Then the doubts were gone, and Red's grip loosened to something more delicate, firm but unresistant. "dance..?" Red asked, voice rough from sleep.
"we need to talk," Dance blurted. "uh. again."
Red groaned, letting go of Dance and rolling over, pulling the pastel purple blanket over his head. "lemme alone..." he mumbled, voice muffled by sleep and the cushion he was smooshing himself into.
Dance just stood there, blinking down dumbly at the sight before him: Here was a monster, LV14, who could have taken on a gang of thugs single-handedly; who drank and smoked and gambled with other similarly experienced and dangerous monsters; who was covered in scars, built like a tank, and could easily crush him with both hands tied behind his back; here was that same monster, hiding under a pastel purple knitted blanket, from a talk with him.
Surely Dance would be forgiven for laughing, the ridiculousness of the picture before him overriding any annoyance he might have been feeling at the moment.
"fuck you!" Red growled, sounding more petulant than angry.
"is that an invitation?" Dance asked.
"wut?" Red looked over his shoulder, peaking out from under the blanket.
"i said..." Dance started, suddenly realizing how much of an idiot he sounded like, how foolish and forward and utterly humiliating. "i- i said... uh..." He backed up a step, stuffing is hands in his pockets. "just seems like a blanket invitation."
Red growled. "don't even fuckin' start."
"quilt the accident, i assure ya," Dance lied, like a liar.
"nah, see..." Red sat up, moving slowly, tossing the blanket aside with one hand as he reached for Dance with the other. "pretty sure yer just chicken t' put yer money where yer mouth is."
"never been one to eat my words," Dance retorted, tensing as he felt Red's claw grip at his hoodie, felt that gentle, tentative pressure as Red tugged just enough to coax him in his direction, but not pull him anywhere.
"i got somethin' better fer that mouth t' do than rattle off shitty puns," Red grumbled, keeping his voice low even as he guided Dance to come closer. Dance took the few steps needed to close the distance between them, finding himself standing between Red's splayed legs.
"what? my humor not your taste?" Dance asked.
Red clicked his teeth. "puns 'r b-tier jokes at best, 'n ev'ryone knows it."
"puns are hilarious," Dance argued, though even he could hear his voice lacked any real bite to it. Why was he so comfortable, standing like this, with Red's claws so close to his throat? "but i'll give ya one thing; theres more entertaining stuff out there."
"yeah, like knock knock jokes," Red huffed.
"no," Dance huffed back, gripping Red's wrist and yanking it off him, before leaning forward enough to pin it to the back of the couch, one foot coming up to step on the cushion between Red's legs, letting him gain another inch in height by arching onto his toes. "like the noises you were making during out vacation."
Red's expression went slack, eyelight going out from shock, before it returned, smoldering, muted, shimmering with that lighter color Dance still couldn't quite identify. "oh-ho! kitten's got claws!" He snarked, leaning back as Dance loomed over him, sinking lower into the couch, nullifying the height difference between them. "what'cha gonna do? scratch me?"
"among other things," Dance growled at him, and he didn't miss the way Red's body shivered, how his fingers twitched and his face glimmered faintly with ruby light. The scent of watermelon and smoke and salt drifted faintly into the air. Dance leaned forward. "and if we're talking claws, i think it's you whose the kitten."
Red gulped visibly, the light dusting of magic swelling over his nasal ridge to a pleasant shimmering pink. Stars, Dance wanted to see that light all over. Dance pressed his thumb into Red's metacarpals, running slowly over the spaces between them. He could feel the energy there, the hum of a dangerous, powerful song, the chill of winter, the strength of the wind, the taste of watermelon. Each brush of his thumbs threw up sparks of protection and safely, sending a rush straight down to Dance's disobedient SOUL.
"don't think i'mma just sit here 'n take it," Red huffed out, the hand not pinned coming up to grasp at Dance's hoodie.
Dance reached out with his own free hand, gripping Red's chin, daring him as he leaned closer. "you'll sit wherever i tell you to sit," Dance growled back. "and you'll like it."
Red shivered, the vibrance in his flushed face growing brighter. "'n why th' fuck would i listen t' ya fer shit?" He asked, but his voice was soft.
Dance dug his thumb into the space between his metacarpals, watching with surprise and no small amount of pleasure as Red's whole body stiffened, then went slack, his breathing becoming stuttered and labored. "because," Dance answered slowly, working out the real reason for himself as he looked at Red, really looked at him. "because you want something from me. the question is what you're willing to do to get it." As he spoke, Dance kept strumming at the strands of magic in Red's hand, sending up those soothing crimson sparks, leaning in closer, closer, closer.
"ya ain't got no fuckin' clue what i want from ya," Red hissed, voice dripping in hurt and want and a little jealousy. "if ya did, ya wouldn't be-"
Dance cut him off, pressing their teeth together, sick of waiting, sick of playing it safe. What was there to play safe from? This kitten had already been declawed a long time ago.
Red curled his free arm around Dance, pulling him the rest of the way into his lap. Dance had to shift his weight, catching himself on his knees on the couch, straddling one of Red's legs. He didn't mind, because suddenly he was drowning in contentment and safety and the taste of watermelon. He thrust his tongue out, growling into Red's teeth, demanding compliance. Red snaked his own tongue out, having the nerve to try and take control. Dance twisted, fought, taking the advantage centimeter by centimeter, until he was able to ravage Red's maw, tasting the tangy combination of mustard, booze, smoke, and watermelon that had his rebellious SOUL quivering in victory. The noise Red made, of surprise, of acceptance, of submission, had Dance's magic pumping like nothing else.
Dance didn't break the kiss (neither of them needed to breath) as he let go of Red's chin and snaked his hand down, slipping it under Red's threadbare yellow shirt to reach his unprotected spine. Just sliding his hand into the area of Red's midriff had him shivering from the energy, the cold that should have had him terrified, the power that could have snapped him in half. But Red wasn't moving, wasn't fighting him, hadn't even tried to take his hand back from where Dance had it trapped. Red's other hand was settled between his scapulae, claws curled inward so his spine was cradled between his knuckles.
The first drag of Dance's fingers along Red's spine drug out the most satisfying throaty groan from Red, which Dance was happy to drink in. Then Red started shaking in his hand, trembling like a leaf in the wind, and Dance was suddenly terrified, what the hell was he doing, he needed to pull back, he needed to pull back what if he scared-?!
W a i t .
Dance pulled out of the kiss, blinking down at Red, who was stiff and rigid and flushed that lovely cherry color. Wait a minute. Why the hell would Dance be afraid of scaring Red?
That makes no sense.
Why?
Unless..?!
Dance felt the strangest mix of shock, horror, and elation, his thought process culminating to the ultimate, irrefutable conclusion that, 'That wasn't me. That wasn't what I was feeling at all. That's not me. So. It has to be Red.'
"oh my god, i'm channeling you."
Red blinked up at him with so much confusion it was palpable (or maybe that was just Dance's damaged, uninsulated SOUL picking up way too many signals it shouldn't be). "wut?"
Dance quickly parsed through the tangle of emotions echoing through his being. He never would have noticed the differences if he hadn't started looking for them, the slight shift in pitch, timbre, hue, that let him pull the two of them apart (even if it took some serious focus, and patience, and made his head hurt). Dance was feeling so many things at the moment, but he was most definitely not the one feeling afraid for once. Dance wasn't the one feeling afraid. Or hurt. That bitter lump that was trying to form in his nonexistent throat, stronger with every second, wasn't from him.
The realization that Red was feeling all of this, had probably been feeling all of this, made Dance want to laugh. So he did. He laughed, the relief of it all, that Dance had been wrong, that there was every chance in the world if one of them would just reach out and take that first step, was overwhelming.
"th' fucks so funny?!" Red demanded, indignation rising up like a shield attempting to hide the bitter regret Dance would never have been able to read on his face.
"us," Dance answered. "god, we need to talk."
"thats what you've been sayin' fer two days, but i ain't heard a damn thing 'bout what th' fuck ya want!" Red growled, jaw clenched tight even as the rest of him remained loose, pliant, yielding under Dance's hand.
"i've never been good at talking things out..." Dance admitted, squeezing gently at Red's spine, smirking at the way that simple little motion made his whole face light up like a giftmas light. "so let me just... show you." He might not be able to dance anymore (might not trust himself, might despise his traitorous SOUL and never want to hear it sing again), but there were other ways to show someone how you feel. Like the ways Lust had shown him.
And now that he was literally on the same wavelength as Red (and aware of it, holy hell it was weird to think about how much of his feelings had been responses to that, weird to think how much Red's nihilism and self doubt and fear felt like his), Dance didn't really need to hear him try to explain himself either.
They could just express themselves.
Red's hesitation was palpable, even without Dance's broken empathic sensors. He averted his gaze, the hand on Dance's back clenching into a fist, his scowl deepening. Dance felt heat building up on the inside of his sockets, tears threatening to spill, a physiological response to the bitterness and frustration Red was choking on.
Okay, maybe they did need to say a few things. "whats got you so upset now?"
"i-!" Red started, before clicking his teeth shut hard. "...why does it matter? ya just want t' get along fer Lust's sake right? well, here i am, gettin' along. what th' fuck else 'm i s'pose t' do?"
Dance let go of Red's spine, bringing his hand up again to clutch at his clavicle. "moron. stars, you're so fucking stupid."
"who th' fuck ya callin' s-" Dance cut Red off with another kiss, pressing forward even more, settling comfortably in Red's lap. Red held him there, steady and safe, with his free hand, a low vibration quivering in his ribs, traveling through Dance's hand and up his arm. Dance ground his thumb into Red's trapped palm, sending up another wave of those delightful sparks.
"you, ya moron," Dance panted softly as he pulled away again. "this has nothing to do with lust. it hasn't since that night."
Red blinked up at him, face unreadable, but he was throwing off waves of confusion that gradually shifted to elation. Dance felt his own SOUL pulse with responding joy. Finally. Finally there was going to be understanding. Then Red's teeth turned up into a predatory smirk. "so yer gonna be my pet, fer real? all official like? ain't gonna bitch when i check in on ya?" Red dragged his knuckles down Dance's spine, oozing satisfaction, relief, confidence, victory blazing in his eyelight. "gonna let me take care o' ya?"
Dance raised a bone brow. "take care of me? what, you're gonna do whatever i want?"
Red raised a brow at him. "i mean... yeah? thats kind o' th' deal?" Red's free hand continued to rub up and down Dance's back, slow, gentle, comforting. "if yer my pet, i take care o' ya, do whatever ya need, keep ya safe, fed, warm, all that shit." He looked up at Dance, that soft pink, still glimmering on his nasal ridge, contrasting with the deeper, darker, murky red-brown his eyelight had become, shimmering with a lighter color Dance still couldn't recognize. "gonna lemme do that fer ya?"
Dance hummed thoughtfully, a plan hatching in his head. "ok. then lets start by having you close your eyes and hold still."
Red's sockets shut, despite the nervous fluttering of his SOUL that Dance could feel through his magic. Trust, weak and hesitant but still there, struck Dance through his core. Dance was starting to see what it was Lust saw in him. It was... honestly adorable. Dance leaned in again, taking Red's tongue hostage once more with his own, teeth pressed together. The taste was intoxicating. Dance was having trouble remembering why he had ever been averse to the idea of being this close with Red. Safety and protectiveness and a steadily building loyalty had Dance getting more and more comfortable in Red's lap.
Even the chill that laced through Red's essence was becoming easier to bear, bringing with it a soothing balm instead of the bitter bite he would have expected.
Comfortable, his thumb still strumming idly at the magic in Red's palm, Dance turned his attention to what he was really looking for. He again slipped his hand under Red's shirt, shivering at the cold as his arm was swallowed by Red's essence. Red's free hand rubbed soothingly at his back, the gentle touch and Red's spike of worry and fear reminding Dance that he was safe, he was safe. His fingers probed cautiously, looking for the telltale texture that would let him know by touch alone that he had found one of Red's larger scars. Most of what he found were light scratches, patterns etched into the bone that probably wouldn't be visible to the naked eye. Touching them sent a shiver down Red's spine, sparking his magic. Dance grinned, snickering into the kiss as he explored blindly.
Soon his exploration was rewarded; Dance found a chip missing from between two of Red's ribs. Red shivered under his touch, a delightful noise ripped from him that Dance drank in greedily. He could feel how hot, how energized, Red's bones were running, flushed (and probably glowing) under his hand, already agitated thanks to the easy, gentle touches and steady strumming he'd been doing already. Embarrassment ran through him like a tidal wave, which only made it better (since it meant Red wasn't doing it on purpose, wasn't knowingly pushing all of Dance's buttons).
Dance pulled back form the kiss, yanking Red's shirt up to see it, the beautiful lightshow that had been plaguing his imagination for too long. He felt his own voice, low and deep and feral, rumble in his chest. This was going to be his now. Dance was in control, and now he had what he wanted.
Red had just given it to him, just like Lust had.
"th fuck..?" Red asked, voice softer, shaken, breathless despite not actually needed to breath. His arm was still pliant under Dance's hand. His eyes remained shut. The only movement was the occasional twitch of his fingers, and that rhythmic rubbing motion his other hand was making into Dance's back. The fact Red was taking Dance's wishes so seriously was exhilarating.
"its called intimacy," Dance said, digging the tips of his fingers into a particularly deep scratch, watching as the hot and cold feeling of Red's magic spasmed around his phalanges, how the sheen of glistening sweat that had gathered on the surface of his greyed bones shimmered with it, reflecting the crimson color back in slightly more pastel shades. "its being nice... unless you don't like it?"
Dance paused, letting Red gather himself, watching the light slowly fade.
"...its fine," Red rumbled. "whatever ya want's fine. if i ain't up fer it, 's'not like i cant knock ya off, yeah?"
Dance dug his fingers in again. "you can. but you won't." He said, more of an order and less of an observation. "if something isn't good for you, you're just gonna say so. i'll stop. but you won't force me off."
Red's body shook, but his smirk didn't falter. Understanding, trust, and acceptance wafted off of him, the fear and worry slowly dissipating. "'k. works fer me, kitten."
Dance felt tension that had been in his shoulders ease. He leaned down, pressing his teeth to one of the deeper cuts, darting his tongue out to taste Red's essence. The heavy watermelon and salt flavor hit him like a truck, dragging an appreciative groan out of him that almost masked the equally delicious noise Red made at the sensation. The taste was amazing. He thought it had smelled good, felt good, he'd thought the taste from Red's tongue had been good, but holy shit, Red's pure, untainted magic was addicting. He wrapped his mouth around the bone, sucking on it, lapping at the leaking magical discharge like an overly frozen popsicle, aggressively drinking it in.
Dance felt the way Red's body jerked involuntarily with each swipe of his tongue, felt the way his ribs quaked with his energy, with a sound just out of his auditory range. Embarrassment and resolve seeped from him, as he held still at Dance's command, even as an unidentified good feeling threatened to overwhelm them both. And with each passing moment, Dance could feel the tension in Red's body coil ever tighter, feel the spasming palpations in his magic become faster, more frequent.
He heard that deep, steady motor noise he fell in love with, just for a moment, before it was cut off, followed by another wave of embarrassment and frustration.
Dance pulled his mouth away, curling his fingers through Red's intercostal spaces with his one had, his other still thumbing idly at Red's palm. "why'd you stop?"
"stop what?" Red asked, voice even softer, more rough and muddled, like it had been that night.
"the purring," Dance answered. "why did you stop?"
Red clenched his jaw tighter. "dumb noise. i know its creepy. just ignore it."
Dance had to take a moment to process the admission. "no. you said you'd do anything i wanted right?" he scratched lightly at the inner surface of Red's ribs. "so purr for me."
Red responded immediately, his ribcage starting to expand and contract as that steady rumbling noise filled the air.
The smell in the air. The sound. The light. Dance had it. He finally had it. And he was still in control.
Dance pulled his hand away from Red's ribs, reaching down to slide under the waistband of his boxers. "now make a-" Dance had to swallow back a pool of excess magic that gathered in his mouth. "form a..."
Red's smug snickering flit through the air, interrupting his purring. "prude. can't even say what'cha want?" His amusement at Dance's fumbling had heat rising to Dance's face.
"you know what i want," Dance defended, knowing he sounded petulant. "you ass-"
"naw, pretty sure what yer beggin' fer's my cock," Red quipped, his smirk only growing wider.
"how about you shut up, put your hands behind your head, and form them both for me? how about that?" Dance growled, finally letting go of Red's wrist as he slid off his lap.
Red practically giggled. "whatever ya want, kitten," he purred, putting his hands behind his head, leaning back as he spread his legs. A bright crimson glow from beneath Red's blood-red boxers, filtering through the now bulging fabric as well as from his pelvic inlet, told Dance he had been obeyed.
Dance knelt between Red's splayed legs, gripping his boxers and working them down. Red, apparently finally deciding to be helpful for once in his life, lifted his hips, then shifted first one leg than another until Dance had the cloth pooled around one of his ankles, finally out of his way. Red's erection stood tall, longer and thicker than Dance had ever seen before, leaking a pastel pink liquid that smelt of his addiction.
Dance gripped it, shivering at how the false flesh burned feverishly even as the magic from which it was made cracked with the chill of suppressed LV. He licked his teeth.
"hey, uh, need help preparin' yerself before ya-" Red started (what almost sounded like a considerate offer), which cut off with a rather undignified high pitched whine as Dance dragged his tongue along the underside, slurping up the dribbling liquid magic. The taste was indescribable: watermelon and sunlight and curling up safe in front of a fire from a winter storm, salt and safety, strength and an unfathomable kindness with a refreshing hint of cucumber..?
Dance took the first half of the shaft into his mouth and started to drink, coaxing a steady flow with his tongue as he pumped the base with his hand, trying to wring out as much of Red's magic as he could. The taste, the energy, was intoxicating, sweeter than any wine and more exhilarating than any gambling victory. The only thing that compared was the taste of Lust.
Above him, Dance heard Red's purring stutter to a halt, cut off by a muffled groan that Red seemed to be trying to choke back. Dance pulled his mouth away. "hey. i told you to purr, remember?" He hummed, his free hand gripping at Red's femur, running up and down the shaft until he found a scar to tease at.
Waves of embarrassment rolled off of Red. "heh. ya- ya really don't want me t-"
Dance squeezed at Red's dick, wringing a cry out of him. "i asked you to purr for me. so go on. start purring," he said evenly, watching Red's face. Red gasped, the tension in his jaw going slack, before Dance once again heard the low rumbling of a healthy motor. "good kitten," Dance purred approvingly.
He didn't miss the shot of joy from Red, the way his magic spasmed, his purring grew louder, his dick twitched eagerly in his hand, from his words. That was interesting. He'd need to ask Lust about that later.
Dance returned to enjoying his guilty pleasure. To his utter delight, it seemed that Red couldn't keep up his purring and also bite back his other noises. Red's voice rang out, sometimes a low keen, sometimes a high pitched mewl, sometimes a ragged, breathy pant. The occasional obscenity, damp and slurred, interrupted them. As Dance watched, excess magic slid down from Red's still closed sockets, from between his teeth, joining the perpetual sweat to glisten in the light of his overactive magic pooling in his scars.
Dance felt his own magic responding to the sight, the sound, the feel; how trusting and agreeable and happy Red was, how comfortable he was and how comforting it was to be so close despite everything. Dance groaned, half in bliss at the experience, and half in annoyance at his SOULs apparent reflex to form his own magic under these circumstances. He reached down with the hand not still on Red's length, freeing his own throbbing length and smearing his hand with his own pre. He then brought that hand up and, using the pastel blue liquid now coating his fingers, began to work at Red's puckered entrance.
Red yelped in surprise. "th' f-! fuck~~! fuck 'r y-ya doin' d-! down th-there?!" he tried to snarl between much heavier panting, louder moans. Dance felt his dick swell, the steady stream of magic that had been weeping from it growing stronger.
Dance smirked, popping Red out of his mouth to reply. "preparing you. whats it feel like?" Returning Red's magic to his mouth, Dance thrust his finger into Red's hole, curling it and scraping against the summoned flesh. A cry ripped out of Red's nonexistent throat, and a deluge of liquid magic shot into Dance's mouth. Dance worked his finger with a vigor, swallowing the carbonated, electrically charged liquid as best he could, moaning himself at the taste, the feel of it, hot and cold and powerful, being absorbed into his body, drenching him in the scent that had haunted his daydreams.
Red shuddered and convulsed as he was assaulted with overstimulation, aborted curses falling from his teeth like the little flecks of pink saliva. He was buffeting Dance with a myriad of emotions, most of them meshing into a hodgepodge of something good. Dance added a second phalanx to his ass, scissoring his hole wider and wider as he made sure to drink every drop Red had to give. By the time Dance was certain he had gotten it all, and pulled himself off of Red, licking his teeth (which he was certain were tinted pink by now), Red's magic was stretched and ready, twitching around his fingers, trying to suck him in further. He yanked his fingers out, enjoying the whimper that escaped Red in response, before lining up his own aching magic.
Red was rattling, nervous and uncertain despite the trust still standing strong.
"red," Dance murmured quietly, "give me one of your hands."
Red took a shuddered breath, before pulling one hand from behind his head and holding it out blindly in front of him.
He still hadn't opened his sockets.
Dance threaded his fingers between Red's powerful claws, feeling a spike in his own nerves as something more than his desire to be in control, his desire to possess, fluttered up. Somehow, this uncultured brute had wormed his way into Dance's metaphorical heart. He couldn't figure out when, or where, or how. It was such a gradual thing. And yet it happened so fast. Dance's jealousy and bitterness had obscured it, but as he settled, as he calmed, it was made clear just how fond, how protective, Dance had become.
He pinned Red's hand back against the couch, next to his head, leaning on it for balance. "you look at me when i tell you this," he growled, pleased to see Red immediately respond by opening his sockets. Red's one eyelight was hazy, muddied and without definite shape, sparking with a lighter color Dance still couldn't make out.
Dance pressed into Red, sinking into his magic. Red's eyelight spasmed and smoked in a brilliant flash of light. Dance squeezed his hand. "you don't get to be an asshole anymore. lust might have put up with that, but i won't." Dance eased in deeper, punctuating his point. Red groaned, stuttered and sharp.
A visceral feeling of submission began to seep through to Dance, which sent a victorious shiver down his spine.
"you don't get to disappear for days at a time. or sleep in the cold. or not fucking talk to me." Dance thrust in a bit harder, pulling his other hand up to clutch at Red's clavicle, two fingers tangling in the fabric of the strap of his shirt (which had fallen back down to cover his chest). Red tried to bite back another whimper, but he wasn't successful. His voice sang right along with the harmony of his persistent (obedient) purring.
"if you ever pull a stunt like this again? trust me, kitten, you won't like what happens next." Dance hilted inside Red, and smirked as he watched that single blazing eyelight roll into the back of Red's skull. Dance leaned in, so they were cheek to cheek, and he could whisper into Red's acoustic meatus. "capiche?"
Red's answer was a wordless mewl, his sockets fluttering shut as his teeth turned to tangle Dance in a kiss. The sheer force of the attraction he was feeling nearly had Dance cross-eyed. He kissed back, taking control of it, and began to piston his hips in earnest, drinking in the musical noises Red couldn't stop making.
Red clung desperately to the back of the couch, so much so Dance could see stuffing starting to peak through holes he'd ripped into it. But the grip on Dance's hand remained gentle, careful. Waves of protection and safety still buffeted Dance, even as he saw, felt, Red fall apart. The implications of that, that the idea of hurting Dance was so dissonant with Red's very nature that he wouldn't do it even when he was out of his mind, had Dance careening over the edge into bliss, filling Red with his magic.
Red responded by coming right along with him, splattering them both in shades of shimmering pink.
Dance's magic dematerialized, and he slumped forward and to one side. He thought he would fall face first into the couch, but he was pulled up short. Red caught him, maneuvering Dance carefully until Red had him cradled in his lap. He was panting, shaking from exertion and magical drain, his arms trembling from the strain, but he still didn't rest. Instead he shifted until he was laying longways on the couch again, cradling Dance on top of him. Dance felt the warm pressure of something covering him, realizing a moment later that Red had draped his leather coat over him for extra warmth.
The contentment and satisfaction was so thick in the air Dance could taste it.
Red chuckled, low and tired, as he slipped one hand under the coat to settle on the back of Dance's neck. "fuck..."
"yeah...." Dance answered, breathless and drained himself.
Dance couldn't keep his eyes open after that, lulled into sweet oblivion by the warmth of that coat, the assurance of refuge and affection, and the sound of Red's purring that still had yet to cease.
Red scratched idly at Dance's jaw with his thumb, unable to repress the smirk on his face. Finally, finally, Dance was his pet. His to protect, his to care for, his to be cared for in return. He'd literally crawled into Red's lap like an ornery kitten, demanding attention his way, and now Red was holding him, safe and his.
Maybe he'd get Dance's collar with a little bell.
That was his last thought before he passed out, hoping when he woke up next it would be to both of his pets at his side.