Archive of Our Own

The slight figure’s back was the first to hit the loamy makeshift bed of packed hay. “W-wait! We mustn’t—!”

A pair of glistening green eyes pierced the darkness above and ahead of the teen. Their owner’s mere presence lent veritable pressure to the air between the two bodies so that breathing felt unbearably heavy and ominous.

“We mustn’t what, my little pumpkin? All your pal Swing wants is a good time. We ain’t causing trouble for anybody in these parts.”

Fuming, the younger man propped himself upon his rear. As he replied, his own orange irises shone with determination.

“It’s not proper, Swing! We’re guests on another individual's farmstead. Please, exercise some restraint until morning.”

“How rich,” Swing’s good-humored and hearty chuckle was punctuated by a sneer. “That ain’t my style, Skully. I do what I want, when I want. And right now? I. Want. You.”

Skully swallowed at the seductive, dark cadence of Swing’s words. Implications both wicked and profane seized his heart, causing the tips of his nerves to prickle in anticipation.

He frantically shook his hands before his face, pallid cheeks tinged red. “No, no, no! I… you… we oughtn’t do anything of the sort!"

The fae sighed. With a snap of his fingers, gray-purple flames sprung to life about them, painting their surroundings in a sodden, monochromatic glow. “Babe, listen: I’m in the mood for some fun. You? You ain’t foolin’ anyone with that sorry excuse for a poker face. Your body craves me the same way.”

“No… no… that’s…” Skully’s voiced trailed off, former resolve wholly deserting him.

The taller fellow flashed a knowing smirk and leaned in close to whisper against the teen’s ear. “C’mon… give into vice. Ol’ Swing promises to make it more than worth your while.”

“…Fine.”

“Come again?” Swing pulled away, feigning surprise.

Skully’s gaze was downcast, countenance a touch sheepish. “I said, ‘fine’.”

“Fine what?”

“I cannot deny what you say… so let’s get this over with. Posthaste.”

Swing tapped at his chin and shrugged. “Sorry, but I don’t quite follow… you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Skully growled. Clenching his jaw in aggravation, he thrust his hands forward to grasp the large fae's jacket and yank him into a firm kiss.

Swing chuffed against the teen’s lips, barely able to contain his mirth. When he pulled away, he threw his head back and broke into a full-blown fit of laughter. “By the witch’s briars! Just when I thought teasing you was starting to get dull.”

Skully flushed and shoved his body away from the fae’s. He gathered his cheeks in his palms.

He wanted to cry.

Instead, he bit his lip and summoned every ounce of his courage in an attempt to save face.

“Swing, I-I asked you many, many times not to be so… s-so callous!”

The fae hiccuped one final time before he made the reluctant effort to reign in his laughter. “What? And deny me some quality entertainment? Yeah, no—I don’t think so.”

“Swing…” Skully grit out, his frame trembling in visible anger.

Swing held up his hands in a placating manner. He offered the youth an easygoing smile. “Woah there, babe. Alright, I’m done having fun at your expense.”

Skully huffed, crossing his arms and turning his nose up in evident displeasure.

“Sheesh,” Swing shook his head. “You’re really gonna make Swing here bend backwards… Look, do ya want me to be sweet with you or what?”

“…”

Swing rolled his eyes. “Silent treatment, eh? You wound me.”

“I do, but…”

“But?”

“But… but nothing! Stop being disingenuous and apologize.”

Swing swore under his breath.

“What did you say—”

“I’m sorry,” the fae backpedaled, shoulders slumping, pointed ears slanted low. “Happy?”

Skully studied Swing out of the corner of his eye, brow creased. After a few moments, his expression softened. “Yes.”

“Finally!” Swing threw his hands in the air. “I was beginning to go soft.”

Skully almost sputtered at the fae’s crass remark. “Swing!”

Swing’s arm wound about the fair teen’s waist and gave a mighty tug, knocking the wind out of him. Pinching his eyes shut, Skully yelped and scrambled for purchase; his fingers found—and subsequently latched upon—the fae’s shoulders as he was collected into his lap.

“Shh,” Swing brought his other hand to pet Skully’s hair. “Settle down, pumpkin.”

“Huh?”

The fae made a thoughtful noise, his grip loosening so he could drift a hand lower to cup the youth’s buttocks. “I haven’t done a damn thing.”

Reassured—at least, to a degree—Skully gradually relaxed and leaned into Swing’s touch.

When Swing was certain Skully had gone lax in his arms, the fae buried his nose into his scalp and breathed in the youth’s spiced scent.

His fingertips meandered to the back of Skully’s head. With uncharacteristic care, he nudged him closer still, carding idly through his choppy white-gray locks all the while.

Swing dipped his chin to press a kiss to Skully’s ear. “See? Told ya I would be sweet with you.”

The teen nuzzled Swing’s jaw; shivering at the sensation of stubble brushing against the skin of his cheek. He then noticed movement beneath his thighs—when had Swing started to rock him?

“Swing…” he whined. “I’m not some infant who needs to be lulled to sleep.”

The swaying grew more pronounced in response. The lips at his ear tugged into a smirk before their owner gave a low chuckle. “Pumpkin, I didn’t realize you could be this slow on the uptake.”

Skully’s eyes shot open as he tore himself away. “Sw-Swing!”

The fae bore the hand at Skully’s rear down, lifting his hips to rub the tented crotch of his trousers against the teen’s cleft.

“Swing!” Skully shrieked, beating at the fae’s chest with both fists. “Stop this at once!”

“Can’t hear you, babe—!” Swing chided, practically snarling as he rutted harder into Skully’s seat. “Fuck, you feel so damn good…”

Skully wriggled in place in an effort to wrest himself free, but to no avail. “There’s not a single ‘good’ part about any of this!”

Swing stayed his hips, breathing a touch labored as he brought a hand to stroke his chin. Although he appeared pensive—as if truly considering the youth's words—there was a subtle twinkle in his ghoulish emerald eyes. “Y’know, I think you might be onto somethin’ there…”

Skully’s shoulders sagged in relief. “That is precisely what I have been trying to tell you—oof!”

The next thing he knew, the youth was staring up at a positively devilish, sinister sneer, his hands pinned overhead.

“It’d feel a heck of a lot better inside you.”

Skully’s eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he had the chance to so much as cry out, Swing dove down and captured his lips in a greedy, hot kiss.

The fae’s assault upon Skully’s mouth was initially met with a fair deal of resistance: some thrashing about here, a kick or two there. But, as time dragged on—and after Swing had slipped his tongue past the youth’s lips—he began to feel tension dissipate from Skully’s lanky form.

It wasn’t long thereafter that Skully went completely slack beneath him. Overwhelmed by pure arousal and the headiness of being subdued, he keened and obediently opened his jaw wider so Swing could lap freely at his gums, teeth, and tongue.

“Atta boy…” Swing managed between breaths as the thumb and forefinger of his free hand found the teen’s chin, which he tilted just so in order to deepen their kiss.

“Swing…” Skully groaned.

Swing shifted his weight to hoist the lean body up, ending the kiss. He slung the other’s gangly pair of arms about both sides of his neck.

“S’okay, little pumpkin,” he cooed. “Swing knows exactly what ya want…”

The fae threw a hand between their bodies and took a loose hold of Skully’s erection through his slacks. A few languid strokes was all it took for the teen to come undone.

Swing always loved seeing Skully in this sort of state of disarray: wearing a deeply picturesque, fiery blush across his jowls and down his neck; lethargically gyrating his hips in time with each pump as he fought to steady his breathing and suppress the occasional mewl that spilled from his spittle-coated lips.

“Oh, oh… Sw-Swing…”

Swing braced himself on his elbow and laughed before brushing the side of his own covered length along the youth’s. “Such a pretty little thing. You drive me wild—mad, even.”

Skully tossed his head to the side. “Ha… ha…! Swing, please…!”

“‘Please’? Hm,” Swing rumbled, drawing his tongue across Skully’s jaw before descending upon his neck to nip at the porcelain-white skin above his clavicle. “Not unless you promise to take responsibility.”

“Ahn—I-I-I will! I’ll do whatever you w-want of me…!”

“A-ny-thing?”

Before Skully could offer a reply, Swing clamped down and suckled upon a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, causing him to howl in ecstasy. “Yes!”

Swing pecked at the bruise. “Promise?”

“I promise… I-I-I p-promise,” Skully blubbered, pleas reaching a fever pitch. “Please… oh, I need you…”

“That’s what I like to hear, babe,” Swing removed his fingers from the teen’s loins, eliciting from him a sorry, adorable whimper, which he silenced with a final chaste kiss. He deftly wrapped his hands around Skully’s ribs and flipped him over, switching their positions. “You know what to do.”

Swing trained his predatory gaze upon Skully’s shock of white hair as the teen rushed to take a knee by his abdomen. Slender fingers worked in haste, fumbling with straps, dangling belts, and zippers galore.

The fae yawned audibly and rolled his eyes just as Skully’s warm palms fell upon his britches. “What’s takin’, babe? I ain’t got all night.”

“Th-There!” Skully huffed—mostly to himself—as he finally yanked the waistband down and away, releasing Swing’s impressive thickness to the night air.

Patting his cheeks to steel himself, the youth wet his lips and gingerly lowered his mouth towards the tip. His gloved fingers curled about the uncut shaft, breath tickling the head for a beat before closing the distance to twirl his tongue around the opening.

Swing gave a guttural half-groan and clawed at Skully’s scalp. “Fuck… that’s it, babe… keep going,” despite his relative inexperience—gag reflex notwithstanding—Swing had determined after their first few sexual forays that Skully was something of a natural at oral sex. Not only was he eager to please, but his perfectly-sized mouth could easily cocoon Swing’s entire cock in heavenly heat at a moment’s notice.

Skully smiled sheepishly at the uncouth praise, glancing upward through fond, half-lidded eyes. He took a moment to relish the taste of the fae on his tongue—he’d never admit it, but he couldn’t get enough of that sweet-bitter tang or the acrid musk that came with it—before pursing his lips and popping the glans further past his teeth.

Swing propped himself up and sighed, thumbs soothing circles at Skully’s crown—his way of signaling the teen to go farther, to redouble his efforts; to take as much as he possibly could and then some.

“You’re so lucky, pumpkin…” Swing rolled his neck and lightly bucked into the youth’s mouth. “You get to enjoy as much of Swing’s cum as ya like. Dammit, I can’t wait to fill you up.”

Skully moaned, flattening his tongue and sinking lower until he had nearly taken Swing to the base. While his jaw had begun to ache as he strained to fully accommodate the fae, he was determined to remain singly focused on the sordid task at hand.

Just as he was preparing to take the plunge, Skully felt something slither alight the skin by a nipple—his only warning before the nub was pinched with surprising strength. He gave a strangled cry, lower back arching as the fae’s cock found the opening to his throat.

Swing snickered, yanking hard at the teen’s hair and sending his shaft deeper yet.

“What’s wrong?” he purred, tapping at the teen's head with a finger. “You gotta earn yer keep, babe: show me you can take all of ol’ Swing’s dick like the king that you are…”

Glaring daggers at Swing through teary eyes, Skully had half a mind to pull himself off from his lap and reprimand him for his bad behavior—were it not for the sudden return of the dreadful crawling sensation drifting down past his navel. Awash with anxiety, it took concerted effort to breathe due in large part to the fae’s erection obstructing his airway.

“Mnghff!” Skully’s features scrunched in discomfort as the mandible of Swing’s phantasmal tattoo scraped the head of his still-covered arousal. He dropped his core to rut weakly into the impromptu coverlet of burlap, his usual sensibilities impaired by a powerful, primitive urge to chase visceral pleasure. But as a result, he succeeded in taking the fae all the way to the hilt.

Swing whistled, ruffling the teen’s hair playfully. “Eyyyy. Well done, pumpkin, well done!”

With the fae’s inhuman strength keeping his nose buried in thick pubic hair, Skully was rendered immobile. Lungs burning, panic began to set in: all he could manage to do was embed his long, unsteady fingers above Swing’s hips.

Breath quickening, Swing crooned faintly in admiration of his handiwork. He smirked before thrusting once—twice, three times—into the youth’s throat, which involuntarily contracted about his engorged length.

The tattoo meanwhile circled Skully’s erection, clenching at odd intervals. Smothered and compromised, he sobbed silently, wanting nothing else than to chase that elusive pleasure to release.

Swing’s rich baritone laughter reverberated through Skully’s numbed maw. Snot mixed with tears coalesced at his pubes as he fucked the poor teen’s throat raw. Skully could feel his thoughts grow foggier—consciousness, fainter still—with each passing moment…

Was this… was this how he was going to die?

Biting his lip, Swing withdrew a coin from breast pocket of his jacket. The disc glided down the knuckles of his right hand before disappearing into his palm. With a flick of a thumb, the coin was sent spinning into the air.

Upon snatching the coin, he paused and stilled mid-thrust, grip on Skully’s head easing instantly. “Hn. Guess that settles it.”

Skully wretched his head back, hands retracting to cover his bruise-laden neck. His chest heaved with tremendous effort, frantically drawing much-needed oxygen into his sore lungs. It was however too much too soon: within seconds, the teen began to cough uncontrollably.

Swing regarded Skully with indifference even as the youth’s figure doubled over in agony. When his fit did at last subside, he gave a low, hoarse groan; with a grimace, Skully swallowed slowly, raking his hands up and down his Adam’s apple.

“Done yet?”

Skully snapped, grinding his teeth as his expression creased in righteous fury. “You nearly s-s-sent me to an early grave w-with that stunt you pulled!”

“Babe, you were totally into it.”

“N-Not while I was be-being asphyxiated!”

Swing offered a noncommittal shrug. “I call them as I see ‘em, and boy, you couldn’t get enough!”

Skully grumbled and pawed self-consciously at his face to hide his blush. The fae shot him a lopsided smile. Tucking a hand up and over the teen’s shoulder, he traced the bruises of Skully’s supple neck. Eventually, his fingers came to cradle his cheek.

“Yer so much cuter when you’re in the mood,” Swing offered, tone honey-sweet. “No need to hold back. It’s just you and me. Let ol’ Swing take care of ya…”

Inhaling deeply, Skully whimpered into a palm before making uneasy eye contact with the fae. “O-Okay.”

Swing ducked to press another kiss to Skully’s chapped lips. This time, the youth yielded from the get-go, melting into the fae’s touch with a sigh.

“Mm,” Swing rasped between kisses, breaths heavy as he coaxed the teen’s tongue from his mouth and raked over it with the tips of his canines. His other hand snatched at the small of Skully’s back. “Heh. You taste of me… sexy.”

Skully’s blush deepened. “B-Be… quiet…”

“Nu-uh. Not until I’m satisfied, pumpkin.”

As though to demonstrate his point, Swing hooked a thumb under Skully’s waistband and unceremoniously wrest his trousers from his hips, finally exposing the teen’s weeping cock and bare pelvis to the spectral light.

“Your clothes are in the way. Get rid of ‘em.”

Skully didn’t need to be told twice. As his fingers popped open each button of his jacket, he felt his pulse quicken. Swing’s tattoo meanwhile crept upwards past Skully’s chest, occasionally slowing its ascent to gnaw on his clear expanse of skin before looping itself around his neck. The youth leaned into Swing and—upon loosening his cravat and shrugging the patchwork article from his upper arms—thrust his chest forward with a whine.

“What’s the matter, babe?” Swing chided, tweaking a nipple, earning him a pitched moan from Skully. “Tell me what’cha need.”

“Y-You… Hahn… You…!”

Swing nodded, licking at the dip at his collar bone. At this point, the tattoo had coiled itself about the teen’s upper torso and neck. The fae’s hands worked to roll Skully’s pants and underwear down past his ankles.

Bereft of all vestments, Skully eyed the figure above him listlessly and pulled his knees to his chest. “Swing…”

Swing started, attention singly trained upon the youth’s creamy calves; his gaze wild and depraved. Smiling, he began to pant, a dark flush spanning his cheeks. It took every ounce of his willpower to stay his hand, which was hovering a hairsbreadth from his throbbing hardness.

“F-Fuck…” he dragged the back of a hand across his lips to wipe away errant drool. “Babe, you’re making me crazy…”

Skully blinked. “Huh? Wh-What did I do?”

Without warning, Swing took hold of Skully’s ankle and thrust two fingers through the teen’s parted lips. Skully recoiled, nearly gagging from having his mouth filled so suddenly.

“Suck,” Swing commanded, narrowing his eyes. “Now.”

Skully’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he attempted to swallow around the digits probing his mouth before doing as bade. He didn’t want to think right now; he didn’t want to consider how unbecoming he must look—and sound—in his current position.

Raucous behavior aside, Swing’s intentions were as clear as day—

Skully wasn’t certain if the butterflies in his stomach were flitting about out of dread or desire.

Unfortunately for the youth, his partner was much too aroused to concern himself with niceties. His features glazed over in pure euphoria, Swing bore his muzzle into Skully’s leg and inhaled. Groaning, he then traced the sensitive inner stripe of thigh muscle with the broad of his tongue.

Skully’s eyes shot wide open, his concentration broken in an instant. He glanced in flustered bewilderment at the fae’s mouth, which was descending further towards his heel with each second.

“C-Can’t—o-oh, fuck…” Swing ground out, manic between ragged breaths. “Can’t get… enough….”

Skully’s cheeks went scarlet. Pushing Swing’s slobber-covered fingers from his mouth with a plop, the youth yanked back his leg and reached forward to cup the fae’s cheeks in his hands just as the latter was about to lick the sole of his foot.

“Swing? What’s gotten into you? Snap out of it!”

“…Huh? Hey!” His hands now empty and attention diverted, Swing flew into a rage. “What the hell’re you doin’?”

Skully gulped. “Um… br-bringing y-y-you back t-to your senses?”

Agitation mounting, Swing tackled the teen against the hay, pining his shoulder with a palm. “I play nice, and this is the thanks I get?”

“Ow! Sw-Swing, that hurts—”

“Can’t a guy indulge every now and then?”

“Yes? Yes! There’s n-nothing wrong with indulgence!”

With a final disgruntled snort, Swing backed off and shifted his weight upon his ankles. “That’s what I thought.”

Skully winced at the pain radiating outwards from his shoulder. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the words. Instead, he assented with a mum nod of his head.

“In the meantime…” an impish smile materialized on the fae’s face as he briefly regarded his other hand—the one partially coated in the teen’s saliva. “How about you and me get this show on the road?”

Swing lunged for Skully’s leg once more, laying the teen prone. Winded, Skully’s vision began to swim mere moments before Swing introduced the entirety of his forefinger past his clenched pucker.

The resulting pain was nothing short of debilitating. Skully could barely manage a garbled yelp into the back of a hand, his features scrunched as Swing stretched him bit by agonizing bit.

“Relax, will ya?” Swing huffed. “Enough with the theatrics.”

“It hurts!”

“Yer bein’ overdramatic.”

Skully made no reply: he’d since bitten down on his bottom lip to stifle his cries. Swing withdrew his finger to the second knuckle before hooking it and jamming it back with tremendous force.

The youth wailed, his core spasming as sparks of pleasure mixed with ache coursed throughout his body—

And Swing, ever the opportunist, took this as his cue to cram another digit into Skully’s entrance.

“Stop! Stop!” Skully screeched, flailing about. Tears hot and heavy stained his pale cheeks anew.

The fae tutted and licked at the teen’s face. He’d since changed his angle to scissor Skully open wider. “Nope.”

“Please… p-p-please… it hurts,” Skully wheezed, clutching weakly at the air. “…Much too much...”

“Y’sure about that?” Swing purred. He pumped his fingers deep, deeper still—

It wasn’t long after he found he could graze that little sweet spot that always made Skully sing.

And sing Skully did; at the same moment his back arched and stars dappled his field of vision.

Swing snickered. “I thought not.”

Although he had to crane his neck to do so, Skully chanced a peek at Swing from below through glassy eyes. He felt a fresh blush painting his bust, cheeks, and ears pink. His chest rapidly rose and fell, breathing stilted from stimulation. Gradually, the deluge of raw ache ebbed away, replaced with lush heat.

Burying a hand in his hair, Skully closed his eyes and sighed, bucking lightly into the fae’s palm. A small, logical part of him knew that he should find the thought of being violated in such an intimate manner appalling—so why, oh why, did it only serve to excite him further?

He grimaced in self-censure, even as his movements grew more rhythmic, more precise—more certain.

Skully heard himself growl. What was Swing doing? None of this wait was warranted! This wasn’t fair.

“Swing…”

Swing blinked, expression eerily passive and guileless. “Yeah, babe?”

“Enough… dawdling. I can’t…” Skully groaned. While cohesive, his words lacked conviction.

“Can’t?”

“Please… Swing…” Skully’s back arched once more, desperation etched into his features. He was teetering along a tightrope; toeing pleasure’s razor edge—torn between a selfish desire to meet release and something more complex.

Swing withdrew his fingers from the teen’s rectum with a lewd squelch. Sizing up Skully a final time, the fae snatched at his slim waist before hefting himself upright and gathering the youth into his lap. “Sorry, pumpkin. No coming before ol’ Swing says so.”

Skully’s breath caught in his throat when he felt Swing’s firmness gloss his pucker. Dazed, dogged, carnally famished; the teen failed to notice the fae shrugging his baggy jacket from his arms or his carefree whistling. He didn’t have the wherewithal to move: instead, he stared down at his center of gravity where his own erection jutted outwards in a most unflattering manner.

Swing wound an arm about Skully’s waist to draw the youth’s back against his chest. “Don’t go spacin’ out on me, babe—the fun’s about to start.”

Skully glanced upwards at the fae through choppy bangs with wide, wild eyes. “I can’t wait… I need this—I need you.”

“Count yourself lucky then,” Swing scooped the teen’s jaw into a hand to join their lips once more. One end of the spectral centipede meandered across his upturned palm as he spoke against Skully’s mouth. “Ol’ Swing’s got just what you crave, my pretty little royal.”

The tattoo, which dressed the youth’s neck like a grotesque gorget, constricted gently, sending a shiver down Skully’s spine.

An invitation—and a warning. “Swing…”

The fae closed his eyes, lips quirked with rare, seemingly honest affection. He nudged his pelvis beneath Skully’s rear to align himself at the youth’s entrance. “Ready?”

Skully nodded, lust clouding his lidded gaze, pale shoulders tinged pink. A craven image of vulnerability and endearment alike, his swollen lips remained parted as he reached up to thread the fingers of a hand through the fae’s jet locks. “I’m all yours.”

Swing nimbly seized the teen’s hips and thrust in with all his might. Skully screamed and went rigid—nothing could quite compare to the immeasurable intensity of negotiating twin sensations of being torn asunder and being filled to the brim.

“Nice ‘n’ tight as always... like you were made for me.”

Everything was excruciating—pain, pleasure; deprivation, and satiation—it was entirely too much for Skully. He wept, tears flowing freely.

Swing tilted the teen’s chin to capture his lips in another kiss. He was perfectly content to remain still while Skully’s inner walls continued to contract around him. Swing didn’t like it when he came too soon: it didn’t feel quite as good chasing his own orgasm through a spent body—even if the sounds of Skully’s raw, overstimulated cries were akin to music to his ears.

Skully welcomed the fae’s sensuous gesture, his tongue lolling forth to usher Swing deeper, to hold nothing back. Swing complied by nipping at the plump of the teen’s bottom lip before twisting his tongue in a corkscrew motion about Skully’s smaller one.

Although Swing was hardly surprised when this otherwise pithy maneuver elicited a stilted whimper from the youth, he couldn’t help but marvel at how something so minute could make his dick throb and thoughts race—

And judging from how Skully’s innards clenched about him, he suspected this served to arouse the teen in much the same way.

“You’re incredible,” Swing rasped out as they parted. He smirked when he noticed the thin line of saliva joining their lips. “So sexy… so beautiful…”

Skully grumbled dismissively though his complexion flushed further, in places a rich peach hue. His breaths were shallow; his heart raced. “No…”

“Amazing?”

“Stop…”

“Wonderful.”

“I’m nothing of the sort!”

Swing tugged abruptly at the tattoo, drawing Skully’s ear by his lips. He spoke candidly, the timbre of his voice like velvet. “C’mon, pumpkin… Swing’s just tellin’ it like it is.”

“You can’t mean it,” Skully nervously peered at the fae out of the corner of his eye.

“I know it turns you on.”

Skully whimpered, upper body torquing as he fidgeted in place. “That’s… that’s not true.”

Swing shifted, bringing a hand to squeeze at the teen’s rear. Skully gasped in response, hips rising off a sizable portion of the fae’s length.

“Yer that eager to ride me, eh?”

“Ah…” he breathed, neither confirming nor denying Swing’s words.

The fae’s hands fell to the teen’s thin waist once again. “Then prepare yourself for one helluva time, my little king!”

As if to drive his point home, Swing gave a mighty thrust, burying himself even deeper into Skully’s narrowed passage. The teen yelled loudly, breath hitching as an onslaught of electric ecstasy compromised his sensibilities.

A base, more loathsome part of Skully’s mind smothered the light of reason. Oh, how he wanted nothing more than to embrace the dark desire rising from within, consequences be damned!

All the while, Swing continued to pound into him, though his pace was still agonizingly languid. He moaned, relishing the addictive pressure of the youth around him—

But no, he couldn’t come yet. “Skully… mine…”

Skully was spiraling, inhibitions fading fast. His core buckled in time with the fae’s thrusts; now that pain had ebbed away almost entirely, it was too easy to lose himself in an ever-expanding sea of white-hot pleasure.

“Swing! More… harder!”

Swing’s balls slapped against the youth’s ass as he finally bottomed out. Seizing Skully’s sides, he bent the youth’s frame away from his abdomen to change the angle of his thrusts before picking up the pace.

Skully squealed, his toes curling. “Don’t stop…!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, babe.”

Skully moaned aloud through broken, violent sobs. The fae’s stocky, sweat-slicked chest glided along his slender back, pinning the teen upon the burlap below with each snap of his hips. The friction of the material against the youth’s pert nipples and weeping cock was nothing if not divine.

Swing carried on pounding away in heady abandon, slowing only to bend over to move his body weight upon his knees. Draped more fully over the Skully’s shoulders, he was free to nuzzle, lap, gnaw, and bite at the latter’s exposed nape.

Whining, Skully laid a cheek upon the hay. He meekly sought purchase as manifold sources of stimulation ate away at both endurance and reason. His hands found and subsequently balled themselves in fabric of Swing’s jacket.

Hiccuping, he propped himself slightly upon his trembling forearms and bucked. A small but vicious voice in his head cursed his weakness of will. He’d never admit it, but he cherished the distorted affection that Swing showed him. Whenever he found himself in this cretin’s selfish embrace, he was no champion of Hallow’s Eve. Theirs was a love most cruel, one that tested patience and tolerance; one that pushed the limits of his mettle, wit, and conviction.

In the end, Swing would inevitably strip all that away and expose him as the needy, lonesome mess of a young man he was.

But if their debauched, stormy waltz of love and hate guaranteed the safety of his dear Halloween… it always was—and would continue to be—worth the sacrifice.

“Swing… s-so… close!”

The fae's warm breath feathered Skully’s clavicle. Burying his nose in the teen’s hair, he grunted, pulling all but the tip of his shaft out before jamming himself back in. “I bet…!”

Skully mewled, head tipping aft, spots flooding his field of vision. Hale and hearty as ever, Swing grinned into the youth’s scalp, relishing the aromatic scent of sex and autumnal loam, before gingerly spinning the spry youth below to face him.

Molten orange met emerald, prompting fae and human to join as one in a furious, impassioned kiss, with Swing’s arms moving to fold Skully’s legs over his shoulder blades while Skully’s fingers tangled themselves in his coal locks. Upon returning his hands to the teen’s sides, Swing began to piston Skully into the hay bedding at a breakneck pace.

“To whom do you belong, your Highness?” Swing demanded over the sounds of their lovemaking, voice hoarse but fierce.

“To you, only you!”

“Exactly,” Swing could feel his own orgasm approaching fast. “Always… always and forever, darling.”

With that, the fae slid Skully’s legs into the crooks of his arms, parting him wide before cramming his full length against his prostate.

Skully could hardly choke out the other’s name before it all came crashing down. His mind blank, pleasure coursed through every fiber of his being, rushing him with the force of a tidal surge; his otherwise pliant figure went rigid as release coated his stomach and jowls.

The instant Skully seized up and dug his fingers into the scarred skin of his shoulders, Swing met his climax head-on, battering the slighter, wrought body like a rampaging, inconsolable beast. He rode out his high as rope after rope of cum painted the teen’s inner walls.

When at last Swing stilled inside Skully, the latter crumpled beneath him, utterly spent. Bearing his weight upon his palms, Swing took this as his cue to pull out. Quivering, the youth whined as the fae’s ejaculate leaked from him.

“Swing…” he sighed feebly. It was clear he was fighting a losing battle to stay awake.

Swing sat upright and finagled with his lucky coin. Flicking it skyward with a thumb, he closed his eyes when it landed in his hand. A hint of resigned sorrow flickered in his gaze as he leveled his sights upon Skully once more.

His expression remained somber as he laid down and moved to tuck the coat about him one might a bed sheet. Then, with uncharacteristic care, Swing quietly gathered the dozing youth beside him into his arms.

Within this merry cycle of greed and fulfillment never-ending, of pursuit and being subdued, Swing couldn’t help but wonder if Halloween was worth all the fuss after all.

He had but one wish—a solemn entreaty. A prayer from his aching, empty heart.

“Skully J. Graves” Swing closed his eyes and murmured, courting sleep’s welcome embrace. “Dance with me a while longer. Dance… and never let go.”