![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
merikuru posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
volieredeatoriI've been having this idea kicking around in my head for days now.
About time I got around to writing it.
Written forlittlecaity, originally posted over at porn_tree. Not EXACTLY porn, no, but, yanno. Nearly so.
Seriously, what WAS I supposed to think upon getting the Magic Stone Collar recipe? Hmph.
Title: Claimed
Author: K.Y. Lowell /merikuru
Rating: PG-13...ish.
Fandom: Mana Khemia
Pairing: If you squint, you'll see plenty of Roxis/Vayne
Warnings: Collars. Hee hee.
Summary: Vayne never expected Roxis to actually make a collar for him.
Now that he truly thinks about it, Vayne is unsure why he agreed to this.
He thinks he'll regret it. No, that's not quite accurate, he knows he'll regret it. He has never seen Roxis look so intense, so determined, his eyes focused and frightening behind carefully-polished glass and his concentration so sharp it gives the sense it could tangibly cut, and it sends sharp unease curling heavy in the pit of his stomach in a way that makes him want to turn and run. He's not so sure he shouldn't; it will curry him no favors, bring nothing but anger and disgust, but the urge is strong and sitting bitter on the back of his tongue and it's all he can do to force it down.
He is beginning to consider doing it anyway, damn the consequences, even as he watches Roxis' fingers work quickly and smoothly across the length of bicolored metal he is smoothing into a solid, shining circlet, the heat of the Athanor no hindrance to his coldly composed exterior.
To resist the urge, he speaks instead, pretending the hint of a nervous rasp in his voice just isn't there. "Roxis - are you sure I can't help you with something?"
Roxis doesn't look up; his fingertips delicately press the Stone of Alectoria into place, shimmering iridescence in the exact center of the strip of silvery gold. "I've nearly finished," he says, starts to say something else and then bites it back; Vayne suspects his Mana has given a sharp reminder of their pact and doesn't quite want to know what was said. "If you would kindly cease your fidgeting? This is the most difficult part and I'd rather not burn myself out of distraction."
Flushing darkly, Vayne takes a breath and obediently tries to hold still. Was he really fidgeting? He hadn't honestly noticed.
He seems to do well enough, anyway. Roxis says nothing more as he slides the malleable strip farther from the forge, bends it into a roughly circular shape and twists the tapered ends to his satisfaction, creating a sort of crude hook-and-eye latch that will hold it in place upon completion and giving a small snort that nearly sounds pleased. He never allows himself to show complete appreciation, he never has; there's always some small thing he can pick at coldly, some minor detail that only the most determined eye would ever see that he'll nonetheless insist he can improve, but this is the closest Vayne has seen him come to being truly satisfied. "There," he says finally, tests the give of the metal circlet and seems to find it suitable enough, straightening and turning away from the boiling-hot forge. "Well? Don't just stand there. Come closer."
Vayne takes a shaky breath, simply watches Roxis for a second - he has never seen him look so frighteningly beautiful, face shadowed by the flickers of alchemic firelight, the smallest sheen of sweat dampening his forehead and pinkened cheeks, and for a single frozen moment he forgets to move or speak or even breathe; he is shattered from his reverie only when Roxis impatiently shifts his weight and narrows his eyes, the harsh cold note to his voice a streak of ice that cuts not-quite-unpleasantly through the stifling heat. "Did you hear me? I told you to come over here."
"I-I'm sorry." It's empty, embarrassed, and the only thing Vayne can think to say as he moves close.
"Honestly, what has gotten into you..." It could almost be a tone of worry, but Roxis has made it clear from the start that he refuses to play into such things. There is no actual kindness, there is no true friendship - there is only grudging tolerance, only just enough to satisfy his Mana into keeping the pact, and he has more than once made it very, very obvious that there will never be more. It's frankly a bit depressing, but Vayne has long since begun to realize that he can't let it get to him, and he certainly can't let himself hope that it will change. As much as it is his way to wish for improvement, it is Roxis' way to shy away from all but the most distant pretenses of cordiality.
He shakes the thoughts quickly away, however, when he realizes Roxis is holding the circlet before his eyes - it gleams a strange, entrancing bronze, lit by leaping flame, and he puts his fingers shakily up to the shining jewel in the center with a breathy, fascinated noise, never noticing the hint of amusement that flickers behind the lenses of the other alchemist's glasses at his open appreciation. "It's...amazing, Roxis," he says softly, lamely, feeling suddenly as though the words he'd truly like to say just don't exist and never will, empty echoes of weaker sentiments all he can offer in their place. "I'm sure Sulpher's going to love it. He doesn't like all those ribbons Jess and Nikki keep trying to make, he keeps saying he'd rather have something useful, something that can actually take a beating--"
Roxis huffs a laugh, so quiet it could easily be mistaken for the Athanor sighing as its inner heat waxes and wanes like a heartbeat. "Vayne, you truly are an idiot. Don't you remember what I said before?"
"I, uh--" Vayne stammers before he can help it, turns his eyes quickly away, his thoughts racing. He remembers well, Roxis' statement that he'd much rather make a collar for the owner than for the Mana, but even the memory stirs a wicked, traitorous sort of excitement in him that it takes far too much effort to try and force away, and his breath catches before he has a chance to remind himself he's being stupid and overthinking the matter. "I...remember, but..."
"Sulpher. Honestly." Another breath of a laugh, and then Roxis' sweat-touched fingers are on Vayne's chin, tilting his head up, baring his neck. "I could almost envy your innocent idiocy."
Vayne inhales shakily, meaning to speak, but it comes out thin and fragile. "Roxis, I don't..."
"Be silent." Damp skin and metal slide softly round Vayne's neck; the collar is cool, a refreshing kiss against his hot skin, and the brush of Roxis' fingers as they fasten the shimmering band is electric, sending a skittering of sparks through what seems like every nerve in his body, leaving his knees weak and his eyes wide and his breath trembling in startled, helpless gasps in his chest - he feels as if he might faint, his head spinning wildly, and he nearly gives in to the urge before the hands pull away and leave only the heavy press of metal to his throat. "There. Was that really so difficult?"
He swallows hard, tries to speak - the collar shifts with the motion, and an entirely new wave of sensation races through his body. "N...no..."
"It suits you." Roxis may as well be stating the weather for as matter-of-fact as his voice is, but a strange light gleams in his eyes that turns his tone into something dark and possessive. "Perhaps more than you know. Obedient to the end, trying so very hard to make everyone happy - seriously, Vayne, sometimes I really do wonder if you're a person or a pet."
"...Do you want me...to be your pet?" The words come out before Vayne can stop them; he flushes brilliant red, deeply startled by his own slip of tongue.
Roxis pauses, blinks once - a vague shuttering of eyelids and pale lashes, slow and thoughtful - and then he laughs, out loud this time, the first smile Vayne has ever seen from him touching the corners of his lips with a devilish beauty. "Do you want to be?"
Vayne swallows again. He does; he wants to belong to Roxis, wants to be claimed by him, but such a thing - he knows that, at least for now, he can never, ever allow the agreement to pass his lips. "...Of course not," he says instead, and reddens further, knowing Roxis will see past those words anyway. "It was a stupid question. Just forget it."
"Maybe I will, maybe I won't." The amusement still dances in Roxis' eyes and voice, his smile refusing to fade; he bends his head just slightly, clasping Vayne's chin in his fingers, and the delicate pressure of his mouth on Vayne's seems to last for eternity even as it's over in a split second. "Just for the record," he whispers against trembling lips, his breath hot and needy, "it really does suit you. Don't take it off."
Vayne can say nothing; he can only stand there as Roxis releases him and walks away, leaving him helpless and afraid and so very, incredibly aroused.
When he thinks he can move again, he reaches slowly up, touches his fingers to the metal band.
"Don't take it off."
He swallows slowly, feels it press firm against his throat. I won't.
About time I got around to writing it.
Written for
littlecaity, originally posted over at porn_tree. Not EXACTLY porn, no, but, yanno. Nearly so.Seriously, what WAS I supposed to think upon getting the Magic Stone Collar recipe? Hmph.
Title: Claimed
Author: K.Y. Lowell /
merikuruRating: PG-13...ish.
Fandom: Mana Khemia
Pairing: If you squint, you'll see plenty of Roxis/Vayne
Warnings: Collars. Hee hee.
Summary: Vayne never expected Roxis to actually make a collar for him.
Now that he truly thinks about it, Vayne is unsure why he agreed to this.
He thinks he'll regret it. No, that's not quite accurate, he knows he'll regret it. He has never seen Roxis look so intense, so determined, his eyes focused and frightening behind carefully-polished glass and his concentration so sharp it gives the sense it could tangibly cut, and it sends sharp unease curling heavy in the pit of his stomach in a way that makes him want to turn and run. He's not so sure he shouldn't; it will curry him no favors, bring nothing but anger and disgust, but the urge is strong and sitting bitter on the back of his tongue and it's all he can do to force it down.
He is beginning to consider doing it anyway, damn the consequences, even as he watches Roxis' fingers work quickly and smoothly across the length of bicolored metal he is smoothing into a solid, shining circlet, the heat of the Athanor no hindrance to his coldly composed exterior.
To resist the urge, he speaks instead, pretending the hint of a nervous rasp in his voice just isn't there. "Roxis - are you sure I can't help you with something?"
Roxis doesn't look up; his fingertips delicately press the Stone of Alectoria into place, shimmering iridescence in the exact center of the strip of silvery gold. "I've nearly finished," he says, starts to say something else and then bites it back; Vayne suspects his Mana has given a sharp reminder of their pact and doesn't quite want to know what was said. "If you would kindly cease your fidgeting? This is the most difficult part and I'd rather not burn myself out of distraction."
Flushing darkly, Vayne takes a breath and obediently tries to hold still. Was he really fidgeting? He hadn't honestly noticed.
He seems to do well enough, anyway. Roxis says nothing more as he slides the malleable strip farther from the forge, bends it into a roughly circular shape and twists the tapered ends to his satisfaction, creating a sort of crude hook-and-eye latch that will hold it in place upon completion and giving a small snort that nearly sounds pleased. He never allows himself to show complete appreciation, he never has; there's always some small thing he can pick at coldly, some minor detail that only the most determined eye would ever see that he'll nonetheless insist he can improve, but this is the closest Vayne has seen him come to being truly satisfied. "There," he says finally, tests the give of the metal circlet and seems to find it suitable enough, straightening and turning away from the boiling-hot forge. "Well? Don't just stand there. Come closer."
Vayne takes a shaky breath, simply watches Roxis for a second - he has never seen him look so frighteningly beautiful, face shadowed by the flickers of alchemic firelight, the smallest sheen of sweat dampening his forehead and pinkened cheeks, and for a single frozen moment he forgets to move or speak or even breathe; he is shattered from his reverie only when Roxis impatiently shifts his weight and narrows his eyes, the harsh cold note to his voice a streak of ice that cuts not-quite-unpleasantly through the stifling heat. "Did you hear me? I told you to come over here."
"I-I'm sorry." It's empty, embarrassed, and the only thing Vayne can think to say as he moves close.
"Honestly, what has gotten into you..." It could almost be a tone of worry, but Roxis has made it clear from the start that he refuses to play into such things. There is no actual kindness, there is no true friendship - there is only grudging tolerance, only just enough to satisfy his Mana into keeping the pact, and he has more than once made it very, very obvious that there will never be more. It's frankly a bit depressing, but Vayne has long since begun to realize that he can't let it get to him, and he certainly can't let himself hope that it will change. As much as it is his way to wish for improvement, it is Roxis' way to shy away from all but the most distant pretenses of cordiality.
He shakes the thoughts quickly away, however, when he realizes Roxis is holding the circlet before his eyes - it gleams a strange, entrancing bronze, lit by leaping flame, and he puts his fingers shakily up to the shining jewel in the center with a breathy, fascinated noise, never noticing the hint of amusement that flickers behind the lenses of the other alchemist's glasses at his open appreciation. "It's...amazing, Roxis," he says softly, lamely, feeling suddenly as though the words he'd truly like to say just don't exist and never will, empty echoes of weaker sentiments all he can offer in their place. "I'm sure Sulpher's going to love it. He doesn't like all those ribbons Jess and Nikki keep trying to make, he keeps saying he'd rather have something useful, something that can actually take a beating--"
Roxis huffs a laugh, so quiet it could easily be mistaken for the Athanor sighing as its inner heat waxes and wanes like a heartbeat. "Vayne, you truly are an idiot. Don't you remember what I said before?"
"I, uh--" Vayne stammers before he can help it, turns his eyes quickly away, his thoughts racing. He remembers well, Roxis' statement that he'd much rather make a collar for the owner than for the Mana, but even the memory stirs a wicked, traitorous sort of excitement in him that it takes far too much effort to try and force away, and his breath catches before he has a chance to remind himself he's being stupid and overthinking the matter. "I...remember, but..."
"Sulpher. Honestly." Another breath of a laugh, and then Roxis' sweat-touched fingers are on Vayne's chin, tilting his head up, baring his neck. "I could almost envy your innocent idiocy."
Vayne inhales shakily, meaning to speak, but it comes out thin and fragile. "Roxis, I don't..."
"Be silent." Damp skin and metal slide softly round Vayne's neck; the collar is cool, a refreshing kiss against his hot skin, and the brush of Roxis' fingers as they fasten the shimmering band is electric, sending a skittering of sparks through what seems like every nerve in his body, leaving his knees weak and his eyes wide and his breath trembling in startled, helpless gasps in his chest - he feels as if he might faint, his head spinning wildly, and he nearly gives in to the urge before the hands pull away and leave only the heavy press of metal to his throat. "There. Was that really so difficult?"
He swallows hard, tries to speak - the collar shifts with the motion, and an entirely new wave of sensation races through his body. "N...no..."
"It suits you." Roxis may as well be stating the weather for as matter-of-fact as his voice is, but a strange light gleams in his eyes that turns his tone into something dark and possessive. "Perhaps more than you know. Obedient to the end, trying so very hard to make everyone happy - seriously, Vayne, sometimes I really do wonder if you're a person or a pet."
"...Do you want me...to be your pet?" The words come out before Vayne can stop them; he flushes brilliant red, deeply startled by his own slip of tongue.
Roxis pauses, blinks once - a vague shuttering of eyelids and pale lashes, slow and thoughtful - and then he laughs, out loud this time, the first smile Vayne has ever seen from him touching the corners of his lips with a devilish beauty. "Do you want to be?"
Vayne swallows again. He does; he wants to belong to Roxis, wants to be claimed by him, but such a thing - he knows that, at least for now, he can never, ever allow the agreement to pass his lips. "...Of course not," he says instead, and reddens further, knowing Roxis will see past those words anyway. "It was a stupid question. Just forget it."
"Maybe I will, maybe I won't." The amusement still dances in Roxis' eyes and voice, his smile refusing to fade; he bends his head just slightly, clasping Vayne's chin in his fingers, and the delicate pressure of his mouth on Vayne's seems to last for eternity even as it's over in a split second. "Just for the record," he whispers against trembling lips, his breath hot and needy, "it really does suit you. Don't take it off."
Vayne can say nothing; he can only stand there as Roxis releases him and walks away, leaving him helpless and afraid and so very, incredibly aroused.
When he thinks he can move again, he reaches slowly up, touches his fingers to the metal band.
"Don't take it off."
He swallows slowly, feels it press firm against his throat. I won't.
