Sabbatical

Crystalline Devotion

"So he ain't got no family...you got no interest in what's left'a yers...I don't even know if bats got mamas 'n daddies, they might just get like hatched outta some cave-eggs or some shit..." York giggled around Samael's rambling, already swaying a bit as the hard-hitting moonshine helped pull him back into the pleasant inebriation from before. "So yer tellin' me, outta all four'a us...I'm the only one got me a normal-ass, good-ass relationship with my kin?!"

The giggle became an outright guffaw as York headbutted Samael, then squeezed him tight with one arm. "Normal?! You, with your...what, five dads and seven moms?! And that's normal?"

"Ay, ay! Don't forget ol' Mama Nelson, too! That makes, wut...like fifteen, eighteen moms 'n dads?!?" Samael added cheerfully as he grasped York's other wrist to guide the sloshing jar toward his muzzle so he could slurp down a gulp or two. "What's so bad 'bout havin' such a big family, huh? 'Snormal where I come from!"

"There is absolutely nothing normal about ever imagining Nelson as a mother figure," York replied with a grin, biting teasingly at his companion's headfur. "Family reunions must be a hoot over in Sampi -- no wonder you guys are all incest-y, get that many people crammed into one cave and you're bound to accidentally slip somethin' into a cousin or two!"

"Or three!" Samael cackled as he bounced once on York's lap, drawing a wheeze from the larger chupa even as he laughed in return.

They'd slipped back into easy drinking and easier conversation while waiting for the heat from their last bout to die down. To no one's surprise, York was still, ah. Embedded in his deep cover with Samael, despite his body's arousal having relaxed to less than a repetitive hum. But Samael had that effect on him...or maybe it just felt pretty damn good to be so intimately entwined with a redneck.

"Easy, easy! Don't scare York Jr.!" York smirked, allowing himself to relax back into the armchair while taking another nip of the moonshine for himself. "He'll head back home if you do, like he shoulda done fifteen minutes ago!"

Samael flashed his teeth playfully and draped a muscular arm around York's enormous shoulders. "You'n me both know he's perfectly content right here in this homey li'l piece'a Sampi," he purred, curling his tail around York's and lowering his muzzle to his collarbone. York closed his eyes, dangerously comfortable in the warmth of the companionship. He was almost loath to bring up the little promise Samael had made, not wanting to break the peace of their aftermath. But he knew if he didn't, the little bastard would--

"So...so it ain't you, I swear. You rode me good 'n long 'n hard." York cracked open an eye in surprise, though relief coursed through his pleasure-drenched form; Samael really was going to keep his word.

But then again, it was Samael. He was notorious for keeping his word.

"Does it have something to do with this?" York teased in a gentle tone while he rode his hand down along Samael's spine to play lightly through the ghostly spines standing stiffly at the base of his friend's tail. "Can't get off unless you're driving the bang-bus?"

"Haw..." Samael's laugh came smoothly, though York didn't miss the way it felt restrained. "Mebbe a li'l. But...but s'more'n that." York kept his eyes closed while Samael nuzzled into his throat. "What I said earlier 'bout bein' scared fer Andee, fer...him gettin' hurt, 'n him showin' his soul, his real soul...all'a that comes 'round to one thing that I ain't used to feelin'."

York rubbed the bottom of his muzzle along Samael's skull, taking another drink of the moonshine over his friend's shoulder. Samael's words were telling since the guy was the master of feeling. "Not nice to leave a guy in suspense, Sammy," York murmured.

He felt the smile against his neck and ran his fingers back up his companion's spine, pausing to move his claws along the expansive tattoo burned into his back. Something York hadn't yet managed to stop appreciating for its badassitude.

Samael inhaled and pushed his back into his touch. "I've thought 'fore 'bout losin' you, hon. It tears me up, but...but I know it could happen, 'cause of what we do. 'Cause this life we lead. And y'know I wouldn't hesitate to step in front of anythin' for you..."

York took a slow breath himself, keeping his companion clutched close. "Even if it killed you," York continued in a low voice. There was no venom in his tone, however, only a faint wistfulness. "You know I'd do the same. Puppies gotta stick together. We'd do it for a lot of folks, Sammy -- you can't tell me you're not used to feeling that."

"I ain't scared'a dyin'," Samael began while tightening his arms around York's neck. "But I am scared of losin' Andee. Whether it's...whether it's somethin' happenin' to him, or somethin' I decide to do. Fer him, fer you, fer the job." He curled closer to the enormous chupa, his tail miraculously finding York's the way it always did. "I know you'd forgive 'n understand me for jus' 'bout anythin' I did. Same way you 'n I don't blame North fer dyin' where he did, protectin'...protectin' who he did."

York frowned silently. A lot of good North's sacrifice had even done, considering the brazen incompetence they'd heard over the radio. Considering the fact that everyone he'd saved had later been wiped out by some retaliatory House bombing raid.

So of course he knew exactly what Samael meant. York exhaled and then dropped his maw atop his friend's head. "Yeah. I would. I know you, Sammy. And I know we'd make the same stupid, stupid decisions, every time. Because that's what we do, that's what North did. How could I ever hold it against you?" He felt Samael flinch in his embrace but didn't think his friend was trying to avoid the truth. It was a serious conversation...and part of him was still within part of Samael, after all.

"I'd forgive you. I'd understand. But...Andee wouldn't," York concluded softly. He grit his teeth, hating the truth, a truth he had no hope of denying even despite the years of partnership, of being best friends. "Wash. Wash wouldn't, either."

"That's what scares me most," Samael mumbled into his chest. "I do somethin' that makes sense to me, but. But it ends up drivin' him away." York closed his eyes again, a feeble reprieve from the shadow that swallowed them equally. "Or worse...somethin' happens to me and. And Andee..."

Samael trailed off as the door suddenly swung open to crash into the wall with a deafening thud. Samael's head shot up and York's lingering inebriation made his own confused reaction only a moment slower as they both stared awkwardly over York's shoulder toward the threshold of the room...

...Where South stood, her towering visage upholding the doorframe. Her eyes immediately latched onto the two before her muzzle wrinkled horribly and her nostrils flared. "What the fuck are you two assholes doing in my brother's room?!"

"We're doing drugs," York blurted.

"And each other," Samael added blithely, winking and then propping up a cheek as he rested an elbow on York's chest. "You wanna join us, lady? I brought plenty'a goodies -- long as you don't make me share York, we'll get along okay." He patted York's chest with a grin and York wasn't proud that he didn't mind the playfully possessive comment.

This stupid redneck was intoxicating.

"Christ, you fruitcakes -- only thing you're about to share is a goddamn ass-kicking," she snarled as she stomped forward and then blinked as she got a better view of their...situation. "Oh my god, are you serious? You're actually fucking...now?"

York tried not to giggle as Samael laughed and waved a hand. "Hey now, even a stick in the mud like you better recognize how loud we'd be if we was actually fuckin'!" Samael retorted. "Naw, this here's a post-fuck-cuddle! 'S a big difference!"

"Last thing I wanted today was a motherfucking aneurysm," she groaned while pinching her brow and flicking her tail irritably.

York gazed at her as she shook her head and purposefully ignored them to glare around the room. South had been even less friendly after North's demise -- not that anyone was shocked -- but it wasn't difficult to see the ache beneath the seven-layer-dip of anger and wrath. Few were as close as the twins, and the particular circumstances of North's death had only made her more short-tempered about the subject.

And just in general, though that was nothing unusual for her, York supposed.

"Is, uh. Is there something we can help you...find?" York ventured.

She fired a flat look in their direction again. "Oh no, I can see you two are already busy finding each other's assholes, don't mind me," she replied waspishly.

"York a'ready found mine," Samael drawled.

York's failed to hide his entertained snicker as she glowered between them. "I don't fucking expect much from the retarded snow dwarf, but come on, York. What the fuck."

York grinned helplessly and raised the hand that clutched the jar of moonshine so he could keep the other wrapped around Samael -- whether it was for comfort or to keep the redneck from jumping up to do something stupid, he wasn't sure. "Aww, it's just a little downtime, South. Friends helping friends."

Her expression soured further as her hands dropped moodily to her hips. "And do you have to do this gay shit in my brother's room? You know it drove him insane."

York's features tightened and he held Samael closer while replying before his friend could. "It used to drive him insane," York corrected, meeting her gaze evenly.

She shifted her weight and eyed the two with visible frustration, though she couldn't seem to bring herself to spit the acid she wanted and instead settled for a grumble. "Used to drive you insane too, York. I remember the way you two handled any queer asshole who hit on you back in Specials."

If she was hoping to get a rise from Samael, she failed. He hadn't even stiffened up in York's embrace, only continuing to gaze across the room at her with the endless compassion he offered to anyone he called 'friend'. Kinda silly to imagine Samael considering her as such, but York knew he did. She was one of them, and no matter her attitude, it was clear Samael respected her not only for her talents and willingness to risk her life as a double-agent, but especially for her love and dedication to her lost brother.

Family was everything to Samael, and South couldn't get an exception even if she begged for it.

York spoke softly again. "I changed for the better, South. We all did. That's why we left, that's why we put our lives on the line every day for this cause." Her stance remained stalwart, but the way her eyes flicked away for a moment revealed a sliver of that emotional core she kept so securely hidden. "North loved Sammy like a brother. Don't take that away from him."

She snarled and stepped toward them again, eliciting a soft jangle from Samael's tail. "Don't talk about that inbred midget like he's blood...and don't you fucking tell me what to think about my dead fucking brother!" she spat out before taking in a ragged breath and clenching her fists at her sides. "Yeah, maybe you're right. Maybe he turned into a better person, maybe he was the only one of us motherfuckers with enough fucking balls to actually feel bad about the shit we've done." York blinked but refused to look away, even as the words nipped guiltily at his heart.

It hurt more that she wasn't wrong.

"But I sure as fuck don't," she added brusquely, crossing her arms as the light glinted dangerously off her nose ring. "He'd probably still fuckin' be here today if he didn't decide to go soft, to give his fuckin' life for those useless bastards." She ran her tongue along her teeth, the ice in her tone hitting with the force of a Sampi blizzard. "If HADES hadn't already killed the shit outta those assholes, I'd go do it myself!"

A few seconds ticked by uncomfortably, filled only by the soft static of the record player reaching the end of the album. It was Samael who first spoke up, his voice a strange mix of playful and gentle. "They ain't hidin' in here, hon." South's frozen blue glare locked with his softer azure, though she didn't interrupt as he continued: "What're ya lookin' for?"

"Not the fuckin' gay rebel rodeo show, that's for fucking sure," she replied dryly. But when York and Samael both kept gazing at her calmly, she sucked on her teeth in annoyance and threw both arms into the air. "Not that it's any of your fuckin' business, but I was just coming by to check if I left any spare knockout rounds in here." York had a feeling it was something more personal, but he wasn't about to make an awkward situation worse. "But now I'm afraid of getting a contact high if I touch any of this shit...not to mention all the goddamn jizz you two bastards have been getting everywhere."

"Ay, give a guy some credit, I'm keepin' most of it safely contained," Samael chirped.

York sure as hell didn't miss the way Samael's spines were flexing against his fingers as he was once more unsuccessful at hiding his titter. He tried to put forth his best serious face while studying her over his shoulder, his cheek resting against Samael's "You need tranqs, huh? You gotta live bounty or..."

Her annoyed features hardened as her attention focused solely on York. "Wash is sending me on another werewolf hunt. Got two or three leads to bring a few more of those fucking monsters back here."

She glared at York with an intensity that ached. "Fucking pointless if you ask me." He saw the way her claws dug harder into her palms. "You don't try and save a rabid dog. You put the fucker down before they hurt someone." Samael squirmed against York and he pulled the smaller chupa tighter to stop his outburst. "Before they kill someone."

She worked her jaw open and shut a few times before running her fingers through her mane and turning around. "Make sure you assholes clean up your little fuckfest before you leave." She approached the doorway, then paused and pressed her hand into the frame while lowering her head for a second or two before gritting her teeth, storming out and slamming the door behind her.

York exhaled and dropped his head against Samael while mumbling into his neck. "Well, good thing that wasn't awkward at all..." He did his best to offer a sheepish smile. "Sorry I, uh. Slipped out at some point."

"Don't worry, hon, I don't think even I coulda kept it up durin' all that," Samael murmured. The words were teasing but the way his arms squeezed around York's neck expressed the softer emotions coursing through them both.

York couldn't be sure if she'd passed through to actually find something...or perhaps to just leave a few words behind. She didn't seem the kind to come by and pay respects, but he wasn't about to try and stand in her way, nor was he about to judge her for it. North's room was still a place that he and Samael considered sacred, which was why it made such an ideal spot for their impossible poker games, or for helping his friend safely exorcise his demons.

And not just the sexual ones, either.

York gazed down at Samael when he felt the smaller chupa shift against him. This was something more than the spiky lengths of fur pulsing into his fingers. Samael could ply him with as much moonshine as he wanted and, sure, York was tipsy. But he was a man on a mission.

He set the jar down on the table and wrapped both arms around his companion again while looking pointedly into his eyes. "What is it, Sammy? Not even the best bat-drugs can hide that look from me, pal..."

Samael smiled faintly, glancing back up at him and then reaching out to retrieve the liquor for himself. "Guess this ol' room gotta history of drawin' out truths 'n secrets," he admitted before taking a terrifyingly long swig from the jar. "I, uh. I got summin'..." He paused and fidgeted, tearing his eyes away from York's soft gaze to stare at his collarbone. "Summin' to tell you, 'n you gotta promise not to tell no one else. Else Nelson's gonna tear me up somethin' fierce."

York attempted to smile back, even if the hesitation drew a string of concern out from his own addled thoughts. "Heh. I thought that was her on a daily basis already with you, buddy." When Samael only managed a weak chuckle and didn't lift his eyes, York squeezed him closer. "Yeah, you know you got my word, Sammy."

Samael nodded and then rubbed his thumb over the rim of the jar. "South brought up them bastards who got North killed. Said she'd killed 'em herself if she coulda." He bit his lip and York watched inquisitively, a crease spreading slowly across his muzzle. The nervousness emanating off Samael felt foreign, an alien energy from the guy whose confidence could convince a blind man to follow him through a minefield.

Samael eventually released his lip so he could sigh. The warm breath that tickled York's throat wasn't the usual enticing breeze -- this was a guilty maelstrom carried on the winds of regret. "She ain't got no House hit party or HADES raid to blame for missin' that chance. It weren't nothin' outta Omegrad took out them cliffs." His toe-claws dug into York's thigh. "Nelson sent me 'n Andee to take care'a them folks."

York blinked, his return to inebriation stumbling. "You...Nelson sent you. And Andee?" he spluttered without a hope on Sirca to hide his incredulity.

Part of him wasn't actually surprised, at least not by the fact those two were behind the massive explosion. That seemed like it was right in line with Andee's handiwork...and though killing anyone -- even indirectly -- went against Samael's personal mantra, York had come to understand how far Samael would go for Andee. It was as far as he would go for York, and then farther still.

Samael didn't answer him right away, only shrinking his shoulders as his fingers sought out York's necklace to clutch tight. His eyes traveled the room, begging for any perch that wasn't York's own gaze. "Yeah. She. She didn't wanna tell no one, not Wash, not none of our own people." He closed his eyes with a grimace. "And she sent me 'cause she knows how I considered North a friend. A brother. She knew...she knew even if I ain't wanna, I'd get the job done." A cracked smile wavered for a few seconds. "An' I did. They ain't gonna be causin' no one no troubles ever again. I maybe didn't pull no triggers myself, but I sure as hell ain't turned no other cheek, neither. I sentenced 'em to their doom."

He looked close to tears, his small but strong body shrunken up as if anticipating some attack. The trepidation only grew as York remained silent for several seconds and mulled over the revelation. It did hurt a little bit that he and Samael had gotten together so many times since then and he'd never mentioned it. But he also knew the respect Samael had for Nelson, and he couldn't hold it against him if he tried. He was sure it had taken an absurd amount of bravery for Samael to break his word to her and spill the truth to him now, no matter how drunk and drugged up they were.

"So...that was the mission you talked about earlier. The one that put your arm in the sling," York began slowly. It wasn't a question as much as a statement and Samael's shoulders hunched a bit more. York pulled him close, however, and nuzzled the top of his head. "Wash was freaking out for a few periods because of it, he was sure they had slipped up again after what happened to North, and that the House was gonna track down the other bases after that attack. Woulda saved us a lot of stress if the old lady had said something..."

Samael's muzzle trembled against his neck and York smiled a bit while leaning back, nosing at his friend's forehead and waiting for his hesitant gaze to at last lift to him again. "But...I get why she didn't. Last thing we need is people thinking that the Movement is fighting itself. Killing itself." The word made Samael flinch, but York nudged his muzzle upward before he could look away. "Hey, Sammy. You two did what needed to be done."

Samael's eyes flicked away, then crept back to him as a steely tone worked itself into York's words. "Not just for Nelson. Not just for the Movement. For North. For our brother." He pushed their snouts together and ran a reassuring hand across the back of Samael's skull as memories of the past resurfaced, memories of the dark things they had done in Specials, in Freelancer. Dark things that were never too distant to grasp into once more, to draw strength from when the most primal emotions demanded more than justice, more than results. When they demanded retribution. "I wish I coulda been there, too."

Samael swallowed but didn't look away this time as he reached up to caress York's cheek. "Means a lot to hear, hon. I ain't felt good about it afterward, but Andee was so proud. He 'n his friends, they. They said we did the right thing, too." He bit the inside of his cheek. "They reminded me the way some shit is back home, too." He exhaled but then gripped the back of York's head as they stared into one another's eyes. "You needa know somethin', though. I ain't did this just 'cause Nelson told me to. An' it ain't only Andee I'm ready to step 'cross that line for, neither."

Perhaps if York was less intoxicated, perhaps if it was anyone but Samael, he would have shivered. But instead, all he felt was a burst of pride as Samael proceeded. "You ever need a hand with somethin' in the shadows, I'm there, York." He held up his other hand next to their muzzles. "Every fuckin' time."

York grasped into his hand without hesitation, the two clutching firmly into one another. "I know, Sammy. Pals for life, right?"

"Pals fer life," Samael echoed softly before bumping their muzzles together again and relaxing a bit more. He glanced around, then reached out to retrieve the moonshine. He shared a slurp with York, then smiled up at him as York shifted to cradle him loosely in one arm. "Sumbitch, but we sure do make a funny pair. Li'l runty pup rolled out a Sampi snowbank...'n a big ol' warwoof pup trained good 'nuff to be a one-man army."

"Just means we've got any and every situation covered," York boasted with a playful grin. "As long as any and every situation involves either perfect hair or incest-tainted-booze."

"Don't they all?" Samael teased in return while tousling York's mane and laughing. They each took another sip before the levity trickled from Samael's face and he pressed his fingers into York's broad chest. "Hey, big man."

It was what he used to call North, but York didn't mind the substitution. Was kind of an honor, really.

"What South said, 'bout that werewolf hunt," Samael continued. York's own smile faded somewhat, though his eyes remained gentle while he looked down at his friend. "Nelson's told us a li'l bit 'bout it. She ain't gone into details, an' y'know she ain't want nothin' to do with it." He stroked York's cheek with a half-smile. "Y'know how she is. Already wary of you two-timin' Freelancers."

"We are mercenary scum, after all," York replied with a chuckle. He swirled the jar of moonshine -- about a quarter left. Yeah, that would be fine for this heavier talk. He knocked the rest of it back with a grunt, his throat working defiantly against the impulse to cough and choke on the fiery but flavorful liquor. Samael raised an eyebrow but York only smacked his lips before setting the jar back onto the card table and exhaling loudly while waiting for the tingling sensation to start spreading through his limbs. "It's, ah. I'm sure you know it's not an actual...hunt," he mumbled. "It's more like...you know. A petting zoo. We're gonna raise money for the cause to let people come feed peanuts to a real werewolf."

Samael's smile was a mixture of sad and entertained as he tilted his head somewhat. Little guy was far too perceptive, no matter what illicit materials went down his gullet. "Heh, shit -- y'know I've already fed you way more'n peanuts, that ain't no big thang," he joked, even if his eyes searched York's and pushed forth a plea for honesty.

It was York's turn to shift as he chewed on his tongue for a few seconds. He could feel the moonshine pumping through his veins now, though, and it combined with Samael's silent, tender prayer to guide York further into the darker corners of their conversation. What were best-puppy-friends for, after all?

"So what we're actually trying to do is, ah. Is work on a cure," York admitted as he ran his claws through the fur on Samael's back. "We. We don't have a lot of direction since everyone who was involved with it is either dead or still working for Freelancer or the House." He found the large tattoo and let his fingers trace the pattern slowly. "It isn't looking great so far..." He looked down and found the concerned gaze he expected, though it was filled with all the love and compassion he appreciated in his friend. "I'm. I'm positive about it, I believe in what Wash and CT and all of them are trying to do. I mean, I have to, I'm. I'm one of them."

Samael's fingers traveled gently through the lighter fur on his chest as they looked at one another for a moment. "You ain't had to transform in a long time, though, right?"

"Yeah...but." York finally broke the gaze with a weak smile, clinging to the drunken haze to give him whatever strength he couldn't pull from Samael. "But that doesn't undo the past, Sammy. And it doesn't mean I might not have to sometime down the road. For...for the cause. Or for Wash..."

He flinched when Samael leaned away from him, a pang sounding through his inebriation. But his friend was only reaching out to pull the table closer, knocking a few of the colored vials over as he stretched his arm past them to pick up another container of moonshine. "You ain't afraid of dyin', neither," Samael murmured.

York wasn't. In fact, what he feared was the same thing that scared Samael. He rubbed at his jaw, then sighed and accepted the jar after Samael's guzzle. "I'm not. I. I have to accept reality." He paused long enough to let a swallow or two of citrus-infused liquor roll down his throat. "I have to accept what might happen, that there might not be a cure. That I might. That something might happen to me before that."

Samael's chest pressed closer to his own and the two bumped their muzzles together again. "I want to have a plan," York added softly while passing the glass container back for Samael to down another shot. "I want to be ready. I want you to be there, Samael."

He almost never used his friend's full name and the effect was instantaneous as the stout chupa sat up in his lap and met his eyes with a different sort of passion. One that burned all the way down to the deepest core of who he was, who they both were.

"I want you to be there in case something happens to me."

Samael closed a hand around his shoulder. "You ain't even gotta ask, hon. I told you, I'm here for you, no matter what."

York shook his head once and reached up to stroke his thumb against his companion's jaw piercings. "Not for me. I. We talked about Evelyn earlier." He wavered when Samael's expression changed, but he knew immediately they'd turned to the same page. "What I saw in her eyes, Sammy. I never want Wash to end up like her. Alone...not knowing the truth." He trembled as Samael's fingers clutched harder into his shoulder. "No one there for him. I can't stand the thought of that, it terrifies me."

Samael embraced his neck without question, whispering into his cheek. "Swear my life on it, York, on one condition. I want the same word from you. Promise me yer gonna take care of Andee if anythin' ever happens to me. I don't even wanna think 'bout what he'd do, who...what he'd become if summin'...if summin' happened..." York swallowed the lump in his throat, barely placing the moonshine down fast enough to hug Samael fiercely in return. "We can't let that happen to our guys. We can't never let 'em end up there..."

York nodded several times and pulled Samael's head into his throat. "Promise, Sammy. They'll be taken care of, no matter what."

Samael leaned back again and placed his hands on York's chest. "That's right." He licked his lips and York blinked as the atmosphere around them changed, subtly morphing into something more heated. "But...but what if somethin' happens to one of our cones? All this talk 'bout each other but...I seen the way Andee gets when he wants somethin'. When he's real drove."

York frowned but only closed his eyes for a moment. He could relate. He'd seen that look in Wash's eyes before, years ago in Freelancer. "I. I dunno, Sammy. I dunno what I'd do..."

Samael knelt in his lap and pushed their muzzles together, continuing to stare into his friend's eyes with all the intensity on Sirca. "I don't neither. That's why we ain't never gonna let nothin' happen to 'em." He kneaded his claws into York's collarbone as his tail swung hypnotically. York's eyes widened slightly at the implications but he couldn't pull himself back from the desperate dive into Samael's pleading gaze. "We gonna do whatever it takes to keep 'em safe, right?"

"Right!" York barked, not knowing if it was the booze or the raw emotions speaking. He didn't care. "God, you...you're right, Sammy. This war...Omega...all of it." He shook his head slowly and dug his own claws into Samael's back as their eyes bored hungrily in each other. "Who knows when it could go down, when everything we've worked for comes crashing down around us..."

Samael's breath was hot on his throat as his tongue passed briefly over York's maw. "Whatever it takes, York. I swore to Andee that I ain't gonna do no stupid shit again, but I...I love 'im too goddamn much. He can't never know, but I'mma do whatever I gotta do to make sure he survives. He's my whole goddamn life..."

"I know. I know, buddy, I won't tell him," York murmured as he pushed his forehead into Samael's. "You can't tell Wash, either. I don't want to give up, I don't want to miss out on a future with Wash, but god. God, I can't let something happen to him, Sammy. If I have to wolf-out to save him, I will. And...and I don't want him to know that. I don't want him to think of that every time we go on a job, or if we end up at the gates to the House, or...or Omega's doorstep one day for the last battle on Sirca..."

"I ain't gonna say shit," Samael whispered as he pushed tightly against York, running his tongue over his throat and sending a shiver down York's spine. "That's yer man. That's yer man, an' yer gonna do what it takes." York twitched as a particular heat began to emanate from Samael. "'Cause that's real devotion..."

"S-Sammy?" York stammered as one hand fell from his friend's shoulders to land at the small of his back. Samael's spines felt like a bundle of needles and his eyes widened when his companion ground into his stomach with a rumble. "O-oh...shit."

"You got it just right, hon," Samael panted, one hand wrapping around the back of York's neck as the other stroked along his muzzle. "That's all we need. That's all we gotta have...it's all fer them."

York exhaled, or at least made a valiant attempt. His breath came out as a series of stilted wheezes when Samael bucked his hips forward, then began to gyrate slowly in his lap. Samael's words somehow cut through the fog as York wet his lips, then moved shaky hands down to clutch into his companion's waist. "It is. It really is," he replied quietly.

He could feel the excitement washing off Samael's stocky frame, a palpable companion to the raw devotion that spilled out of his eyes. Pure, undying devotion for Andee, with enough to spare for York, too. Their friendship hadn't ever really been quantifiable, words had never been able to describe it, either, and somehow that bond had become even more intense and intimate after they'd fallen in love with their respective partners.

It was the devotion they both possessed, devotion which was once poured endlessly into a soul that had been whisked away from them, two towering spirits that hovered behind the duo and cast a shadow over all they did. For years, York and Samael held onto that precious supply, spilling it here and there, for the cause, for their friends, wherever they could relieve some of the pressure and offer a taste of that ultimate dedication to whoever would accept it. It flowed easily between them, as well, but they had too much to share, their vessels already overfull.

That devotion at last had a new destination, a new home into which it could flood. Wash and Andee were aching for it, no matter how much they protested it. And lord, how they protested, how they fought tooth and claw against it. York swallowed, no longer afraid of Samael's girth, scared now instead that Wash would never learn to accept that devotion, would forever keep turning away and searching for the easier, safer alternatives instead of seeing all that York wanted to give him, wanted to wrap him up with and --

His spiraling thoughts were strangled by the curiosity that arouse as Samael leaned away from him with an arm stretched out for the table again. York did his best to calm his panicked nerves, seeking the reassurance of the lingering moonshine while putting his attention onto Samael.

But before he could even ask what his friend was doing, why he was reaching for more booze when they were already tipsy...York realized he wasn't reaching for more booze at all. His eyes darted to the pair of neon-colored vials in Samael's fingers as the grinning redneck stared up at him, his free hand clutching something else York couldn't make out. It didn't stop him from caressing tenderly along York's cheek, those damnably blue eyes diving into his own as every withering ounce of York's trepidation was laid bare for his companion to inspect.

York had the feeling it wasn't just his fear that was about to be thrust into the open, however.

* ~ * ~ * NSFW Starts (Crystalline Devotion) * ~ * ~ *

"Don't be scared, hon," Samael breathed out as he bumped their muzzles together. "I know that feelin', I know how the fellas make us fret..."

York felt something pushing into his stomach, not sure why he was surprised. Dedication was a cornerstone of who Samael was, and when mixed with the turbulent emotions that no doubt accompanied his ruff...

He dared to look down and found exactly what he expected. Samael's stout blue Sampi pride stood at full attention, as stiff as York had ever seen it. And he'd seen it plenty. This was a new level of arousal, though, the turgid malehood thrumming with Samael's pulse as a bit of pale fluid trickled from the tip to be lost in York's soft hide. But wasn't Samael scared, too? Didn't he have the same gnawing terror about the infinite depth of Andee's potential rejection?

"S-Sammy...what...what if they..."

"We can't give up, York." Samael wiggled his hips a bit closer and bumped his snout against York's. "No matter how scared we are..."

His trembling flesh pressed against York's stomach and York's own arousal rose quickly to greet it. Samael must have felt it, considering the way he smoothly rocked his hips forward and trapped it snugly between his thighs. York panted and gave a helpless thrust upward, his erection mashing into Samael's sheath. He knew he should have formulated some kind of response, but Samael grasped into his muzzle first, holding his head in place as they locked eyes. "It'll work out. We got this. An' until then..." He held up the glass flasks, eyes gleaming excitedly. "This'll take away all our fears fer a li'l while..."

He ran his tongue across his lips before spreading his legs and moving his waist forward to force York's stiff arousal back against his own body. York's eyes flicked from Samael's encouraging gaze to the lime-green and fuchsia liquids sloshing about in the two vials. He swallowed but gave a half-grin as a nervous giggle escaped his muzzle. "God, your ruff is terrifying," he murmured.

His hands hadn't yet been able to release Samael's hips, glorious as they felt gyrating rhythmically across his lap. He forced one up, however, and accepted one of the vials between shaky fingers. Samael's own grin spread and he took a moment to run his tongue across the front of York's snout before rumbling: "You got no idea..."

York's shiver might have contained trepidation, but the sheer excitement was overpowering as he and Samael simultaneously used their thumbs to pop the corks out of the vials. He kept the gaze with his friend, mirroring his movements and tilting his head back enough to open his jaws, then taking a deep breath as they tipped the glass containers up so the chromatic concoctions could pour over their tongues.

The taste was tart, a mix of sweet and sour. York winced at the hint of bitterness, but remembered his lessons and swallowed dutifully as Samael did the same across from him. York already felt a numb buzz at the back of his throat and he licked his maw in anticipation as both hands settled on Samael's hips again. The smaller chupa continued to grin up at him as the motions of his hips became more measured. York's arousal was shamelessly firm and Samael was absolutely using it to his advantage, turning the slow, passionate lap dance into a full on assault of his crotch against York's malehood.

York groaned and rolled his head back, his fingers clutching into his friend's thick rump as he pulled him closer. "Hngh, Sammy..." He felt Samael's muzzle brush against his own, his teeth tickling along his lower jaw while his waist shifted and then rolled smoothly across his loins again to elicit another blissful moan. "S-so wh...what's this stuff..." He paused to appreciate the purposeful jangle from Samael's tail as his body writhed eagerly. "Oooh...god..."

The unfinished inquiry was responded to only with Samael's sinuous gyrations...and the soft crinkle of plastic. York blinked as the amber glow of the overhead lights expanded into a shifting beam of reds, blues and purples, his muzzle hanging open while his eyes fought to focus on the source of the odd sound.

He eventually noticed Samael's fingers, thick but delicate things that they were, prying open the small, see-through bag he'd spotted earlier. Words wouldn't spring forth, leaving him with little choice but to merely stare curiously as Samael threw his head back and then sprinkled the contents of the bag upon his tongue. York's eyes widened at the brilliant burst of colors that exploded from his partner's maw, a firestorm of impossible hues filling the room with splendorous luminescence.

"Is...is that more drugs, Sammy?"

The voice was York's, but he couldn't recall saying the words as the room swirled in the opposite direction of the broad, enticing hips that crashed into York's arousal with the most heavenly warmth. Samael's bright blue eyes flashed and he swallowed the radiant bits of crystallized light before running his hands over York's chest with a deep chuckle that rattled his bones and coaxed a needy dribble from his teased erection. "Sure is, hon."

The words came from everywhere, looping around York's head as Samael's maw dove close, the size of a freight train and then again compact and boxy, the perfect fit against the end of York's muzzle. "You don't need 'em, though...you jus' let that shot take care'a you..."

York's vision swam through a blissful sea of neon and silk, though Samael's eyes were twinned beacons of welcoming azure guiding him forward into the mist. "I thought you were takin' care of me," York uttered around a delighted whimper when Samael's hips made another pass against his crotch, his friend's steely flesh pressing lovingly against his own and trapping both between their muscular torsos.

"Oh, York, sweetie," Samael panted against his neck. "I done all I can...now I need you to help me..."

It wasn't a desperate plea like before. The honesty in Samael's throaty tone sent a shudder down York's spine. York bit his lip and closed his eyes for a moment while a symphony of eager wolves began to howl around them. He'd promised, he'd given his word to his friend...his devotion. That wasn't a gesture easily dismissed.

York wasn't often nervous when the lights were low and the clothes were even lower, and he was sure he'd be hesitating if his body wasn't in the throes of a bat-blessed baptism. But the terror he knew he should have felt as Samael's breath washed over him was assuaged and soothed by the cool waters coursing through his fur. They flowed from Samael, they flowed from Sirca, they flowed from North's spirit as he watched over them with the half-smile he always gave whenever the duo stumbled out of a closet together.

"I got you, Sammy," York finally whispered as he clutched the back of his friend's skull and gazed deep into his cerulean seas. He saw a tempest, roiling tides, swirling eddies and frothing white-caps; a lesser man would have turned back and pointed his bow to safer waters, but York was no lesser man. He was a badass. He was Samael's best friend.

He was the York.

Samael's electric blue gaze threatened to blind York as an eager growl rushed from his jaws. York produced a skittish grin when Samael pressed fully into his chest, then dragged himself up slowly across his torso with a low rumble in the back of his throat. He tried to comprehend his friend's intentions, his head sluggishly tilting back to follow the movement of Samael raising up higher and higher.

A thump drew his attention away to stare stupidly at a large paw planted firmly on the armrest of the chair. It had to be Samael's, who else could it belong to? But why was it glowing? York's eyes widened and his hand slid down along Samael's muscular leg to grasp into his ankle before whipping his head to the other side as a matching paw clamped around the opposite armrest.

The powerful limb emanated the same dizzying luminescence and York blinked several times before bringing his head back around to stare up at Samael. He nearly lifted an arm to shade his eyes from the overwhelming radiance -- Samael's whole torso pulsed with searing crimson light to fill the room with his insatiable desire as palpable waves of need washed over York. York could do little more than drop his jaw at the divine display, his fingers closing around the back of Samael's legs while a gentle whimper trickled over his tongue.

His stout companion straddled the armchair and towered over York, terrible and threatening yet tender as he reached down to lovingly grip the back of York's skull. York trembled but found the thick chain of trust he and Samael had spent years forging, clutching into it the moment his light-drenched friend arched toward him to guide the azure pillar into his quivering jaws.

Samael's blazing gleam flared higher as his girth slid across York's tongue. The first of Samael's metal bands glanced off his lower teeth, drawing a muffled moan from York as he shut his eyes tightly to avoid the sparks that shot out from his maw to bounce across their fur. He felt his jaws clench despite his wishes, despite Samael's training, despite the number of times he'd practiced on Samael and Andee.

But as his teeth dug into the throbbing flesh, he only heard a blissful groan from the brightly-glowing beast standing above him. Pastel-colored rivulets of pleasure poured out from Samael's muzzle, rolling across his powerful frame to flood down to York and envelop him with their joyous embrace...the same joy that rode every hot syllable launched from Samael's silver tongue.

The words had no meaning to York but he felt their warning and heeded it the best he could, keeping one hand wrapped around Samael's lower leg as the other found the small of his back. He was met with a jagged forest that brushed stiffly against his fingers, sending a bolt of clarity through him that lasted only long enough to help him understand that he needed to take a deep breath.

Precious air whistled past the engorged flesh to rush into his lungs as his chest expanded from the effort. Samael murmured approval a moment before he whispered his intentions; it was York who was now illiterate, however, and he failed to parse the words until they became suddenly physical in the form of a bulbous lump of flesh that slammed into his lips.

His eyes bulged and he let out a gargling noise of shock, but was granted only a brief withdrawal before the broad column of Sampian timber rocketed forward again across his tongue. Tears burst free but they were blissful gems that rolled across his cheeks as the passion and intimacy he had so long cherished with Samael wrapped around his heart and reassured him that this was still an act of friendship, an extension of the trust the duo placed in one another. Samael had come to him with fear in his soul, the fear of denial or of bonds broken...and by god, York wasn't going to let him down, no matter how hard the glowing creature of lust pounded into his throat.

And lord, was he pounding.

York almost hadn't noticed thanks to the innate instincts his training had built up, barely gagging in spite of the way Samael's pointed tip stabbed into the back of his throat faster and faster. York could taste both sugar and salt in his maw while his nostrils were treated to the arboreal, earthy masculinity of his companion with the way Samael had his head clutched tightly in both hands and pulled fiercely to his waist. His hips thrust steadily, a rhythm that matched perfectly with the powerful thud of York's heart as each weighty motion drew his length back before sending it back across his teeth and to the depths of his throat.

Streaks of crimson and violet burst from his maw in time with every threatening thump of the imposing knot but York was too focused on running his tongue across the smooth metal bands embedded into Samael's twitching malehood, too entranced by his effort to make this feel amazing to pay the ethereal display any mind. It didn't matter how firmly his friend's hands held his skull, or how forcefully his hips pumped back and forth; York had done his goddamn due diligence and learned the art of a good...no, a great blowjob, and he was going to repay the lessons from Samael with the best oral sex this insane redneck had ever received.

York's own claws dug into the thickest part of Samael's ruff to urge an even more intense pace. He was proud of the enraptured snarl it drew forth, relishing the patter of drool on his mane as Samael bent over his head. He could hear toe-claws tearing into the armrests, the eager jangle of a piercing -- those alone were enough to draw an ecstatic trickle from York's uncomfortably-stiff erection, but it was Samael's hoarse "Wider, hon" that truly flung his senses into overdrive.

His jaws already ached but York embraced the odd bliss of this illicit encounter, for the second time in his life experiencing the unbridled delight of being the vessel, the recipient of an unstoppable onslaught of need and urgent desire. He forced his maw to spread a bit more and it was all the give Samael needed to howl in pleasure and shove mightily forward, wedging his knot into York's stretched muzzle as he mashed his snout against his waist and began a series of short, staccato thrusts while clutching his friend's head with an unparalleled desperation.

York couldn't bear to keep his eyes closed despite the stream of tears, despite the vicious jabs into the furthest reaches of his throat. He wanted to observe the radiance of his friend and bask in the warm rays of his indomitable spirit. He found himself staring into a clenched muzzle and strained features, sweat rolling over a broad muzzle that was outlined with a beautiful blood-red corona. And an instant later, two sizzling blue eyes snapped open and met his, and time crawled to a snail's pace as a hand slid around to cup his cheek while York's own fingers closed tighter around Samael's lower leg.

"I see you, York," Samael whispered over the frantic motions, his hips coming to a staggered halt before unceremoniously yanking his arousal free with a loud pop. Several messy streaks splattered over York's maw and Samael's stomach as Samael rubbed his malehood across his companion's features before suddenly dropping to his knees astride the larger chupa and clutching his face in both hands. "I see you," he repeated breathlessly before leaning in and lapping affectionately across York's muzzle.

York could do little more than grasp into his friend's hips, too overwhelmed for words. His jaws were sore, his throat felt ravaged, but there was nirvana coursing through him and it was stronger than every other sensation that attempted to sound a warning for what was yet to come. His friend was a distraction too great for even the loudest sirens, however; Samael's glowing form had started to pulse with multiple shades of pink, purple and red as his burgeoning excitement threatened to sear them both...except that when he pressed their bodies close and pulled their foreheads together, York could feel the burning light flowing into him to be emitted just as intensely.

These were really good drugs.

His eyes were drawn back to Samael's when he reached down and gripped their glistening erections as one. His attention was locked completely on his companion as every hair across his body trembled with anticipation.

"But now, hon...now I'm gonna fuck you..."

York's eyes could not have been any wider, yet he found himself nodding numbly as Samael licked his lips and then melted off the armchair as an amorphous fluid, only to reform into the handsome, squat redneck that York knew would eternally be at his side. He should have been terrified of what came next...but this was simply fate, wasn't it? This was the only way things could unfold, the only way things could be fair after all they'd been through together.

Samael tugged lightly on his diamond-like malehood to guide him to his paws, his piercing azure eyes never leaving York's as the massive chupa stumbled obediently after him. Every thudding impact of their feet against the ground sent out a burst of neon fireflies that navigated their weaving journey to North's bed, although even the entrancing spectacle of ambient ballroom dancing couldn't pull York from staring into the bottomless pool of Samael's all-seeing gaze.

The small but dangerous creature snatched something off the table as they passed. Didn't matter what it was, York had no way of processing it. He was busy reveling at the rollicking velvet sea that stretched out eternally before him, a vast ocean of churning peaks and shifting tides. It was too far for him to reach, even as he stretched down a gigantic arm to plunge into the surface. But then a squeeze around his protruding erection drew his eyes down to Samael, who stared up at him with all the hunger of Sampi's greatest predators.

Words weren't necessary, a mere shift of Samael's fingers around the thrumming flesh enough to steer York down to a kneel. York gasped as he was brought to face-level with the violet lake, nervously clutching into its shores with both hands as his claws flexed into the cool material. "S-Sammy...what if I drown?" he whispered, gawking down at the bronze streaks of light from his most precious memory as they danced across the purple waves.

"I ain't gonna let you," Samael murmured from behind him. A gentle pressure on York's spine as a meaty, furry serpent slithered between his thighs to once again clamp around his dribbling arousal and give it a soothing stroke. "No fear, hon, jus' relax 'n be with me."

Bewildered, York stared down at the daunting ocean before hesitantly moving his arms forward. He blinked as his fingers clutched not into water but soft fabric that nonetheless ran between his claws like liquid silk. His breath quickened as he allowed the insistent weight on his back to push him forward until he lost the fight against gravity and flopped into the welcoming sheets. A warm gale in a place he didn't expect, a gentle nudge against the base of his tail to lift it high. He gasped but the eagerness overcame the anxiety as he whimpered against the velvet sea, closing his eyes a moment later when another tender pass along his firm flesh drove his muzzle further into the covers.

Even through the muted haze, he was prepared for the sharp pain, the sudden pressure, the most personal of penetrations. He clenched his jaws and dug his fingers harder into the sheets, anticipating the intrusion...only to curse in surprise when a hot, damp sponge pressed against him and moved sluggishly upward. His toes curled and he arched his shoulders forward, releasing a shocked squeal when the exploratory motion found its target and pushed against it. "Oooh...g-guh...S-Sammy..." he groaned before throwing his head back when the alien sensation squirmed forward and delved into him.

There was no response beyond the passionate rumbles of a foreign tongue, one York couldn't translate to words. But it was Samael's, and it was as skillful as ever, trading conversation for forbidden pleasure York could never have imagined. He could feel his body relaxing under Samael's insistent, invasive orders, to the point that his entire torso simply collapsed onto the mattress as he clung to the silken sheets and moaned loudly into their supportive waters.

His tail danced wildly, his erection leaped of its own accord into his companion's fist, his legs quivered as memories of Wash and the motorboat flooded through him. He knew he shouldn't have wanted what came next, he knew it was going to hurt. Yet York needed it all the same as every ounce of inebriation mixed with the torrent of desire, his teeth gnashing together as he buried his face in the covers and whimpered a plea.

A cool rush of air replaced the deep, intimate massage and York's jaws spread in denial, the loss of bliss made only worse when the affectionate fingers slid away from his aching arousal. He heard the snap of plastic, the hushed splatter of something not-quite-fluid, the cold splash as the same stuff was slathered across his vulnerable entrance. His eyes slowly creaked open as a threatening presence loomed behind him, one burly vine curling around his waist as a dangerous growl wafted through his muddled senses. The hunter was circling his prey, the light-infused beast casting a weighty shadow across York's broad frame. But York's fear couldn't compete with the trust, with the unbreakable bonds that refused to corrode no matter how daunting the intentions of his terrifying friend.

Samael had always trusted him, despite the monster that lurked beneath his brand. York would do the same, without hesitation.

Well, maybe a little hesita--

York's eyes flew open with a shriek, the precision-guided launch from Samael hitting home with the first shot. Neon beams exploded from York's maw to scatter wildly across the silken waters, his tail immediately curling around Samael's neck as two strong hands grabbed tightly into his waist. If there was pain, his body hadn't yet agreed to it, substituting it instead with a fullness akin to a freight train ramming through a too-small tunnel. He lurched forward into the mattress and scrabbled wildly at the sheets, preparing to receive Samael's full weight on his back so they could both adjust...except he'd forgotten that the typical rules of engagement had no place in this wild frontier.

As soon as the pressure was applied, it was just as hurriedly withdrawn. York vaguely sensed both crimson bands grinding against him on their way back out and he gave a stupid, dazed grin with a momentary thought of how they really weren't so bad. But the grin morphed into a wide-eyed yelp when the locomotive barreled forward once more with a twinned impact of each piercing before the greater jolt of the monumental knot that slammed York into the bed as a squeak escaped his clenched jaws.

Claws dug fiercely into his sides and York wondered how Samael avoided being singed by the radiance he felt pulsing outward from their joined bodies. If there was any discomfort, it certainly wasn't putting a damper on Samael's spirits as he plowed into his partner without concern for the potential of setting anything alight. Whatever he'd slathered on must have been made of the same shimmering magic as the vials they'd ingested, because York barely felt the friction as the Sampian ramrod worked in and out of him with a rhythm that Xulod herself would be proud of.

Each firm penetration drew a louder and louder moan from York's jaws as he gave himself completely over to Samael. It was such an alien feeling to truly release all controls -- with Wash, it hadn't been as strange, considering their years of working together as partners. Wash had been in charge of missions before and he'd spent years leading the Lactan base. York had no qualms about following his lead.

But the intimacy York and Samael shared had always naturally fallen in line with York's own preferences. Their singular experiments aside, the most York had ever given the reins over to his stumpy little pal had been after requesting those damn blowjob lessons. And even then, Samael had been tender and restrained, only ever pushing York as far as he thought his friend could handle.

This was different. This was Samael's lust unchained, his innermost passions granted access to a subject that wasn't going to shout recriminations or recoil in horror. York wasn't sure what that said about him, but he had no fucks to give, not when Samael was doing such a fine job giving one instead. Every powerful, swift thrust was paired with a blissful explosion of colors and light -- maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was their own impossibly inseparable bond that replaced the agony with something intangibly beautiful.

York didn't care -- he was here for Samael, and he wanted every goddamn inch that his overwhelmed companion was offering, because being the one that Samael chose for this uncomfortable facet of his life was a goddamn honor. York wasn't about to let it become a burden.

Samael's chest pressed against his back as the speed of his hips increased further still, his throaty snarls reverberating throughout York's torso to complement the rapid jingling of his tail. York felt his claws tearing through the sheets below them as his muzzle drove helplessly into the mattress before he grit his teeth as Samael planted a paw alongside his knee and slipped an arm up and around York's chest to yank his body back in a feral expression of domination.

York threw his head back in response and clutched into Samael's forearm, managing no more than a single gasp before he cried out in the agony he'd so far avoided when the far-too-thick knot plunged into him. Yet even as his whole body lit up with a fiery anguish, a different kind of heat boiled up rapidly from his loins to flood his senses with unfiltered joy. His eyes stared into the ceiling and the yelp of discomfort became a piercing wail of ecstasy.

The first gout of his orgasm was flung halfway across the mattress before Samael's grip around him tightened and forced his chest back even further in time with a wild jerk of his hips to pull the knot free. York choked out a shocked wheeze, only to squeal and arch his back when the bulbous base slammed home again. York's climax only grew in response, the next several blasts splattering up across their writhing bodies as he howled his joy to the heavens above.

He felt teeth clamping into the nape of his neck but York only hissed and clung harder to Samael's arm, all but encouraging every bit of his lover's onslaught. Samael whimpered around the lustful growling, his other arm flying around York's messy stomach to cling tightly to him as he thrust with enough speed and force that they both stumbled forward onto the mattress. It was enough to grant Samael another inch or two and York's eyes shut tightly with his bark of agony, yet they both refused to release the other as Samael's paws scrabbled for purchase on the bed to grant him the final barrage of frenetic motions that his body demanded.

York's neck was freed from Samael's jaws in the tumble, leaving Samael free to shout York's name blissfully as he simultaneously clung to him and shoved him downward. His hips worked with fervor, rocking the headboard into the brick wall with a deafening clatter as the hot flood of Samael's orgasm rushed through York's depths to further augment the unfamiliar pressure. But York had only equal cries of delight, his voice hoarse from the mixed pain and pleasure as he felt his own climax still weakly releasing between his heaving stomach and the soaked sheets below.

Samael's strength and stamina knew no bounds as he bent over York's prone form and buried himself into his squirming friend, his sheath sealed firmly against York. His waist jerked forward with each extended salvo of his release to grind York along the tainted silken sea, their voices rising in warbling harmony in praise of the hard-earned peak.

They called out for each other again and again until Samael's body finally began to slow, his tail piercing tinkling weakly while his muscular body trembled violently above York's back. One last shuddering thrust to draw a guttural moan from York before Samael collapsed with a gasp, his muzzle dropping onto York's sweat-drenched spine as the light slowly extinguished from their weary forms.

York felt heavy panting across his back and he smiled through the exhaustion and the haze. He certainly understood now why Samael was humiliated by his ruff. But he was Samael's friend, and the mere thought of shaming him for his biological needs nauseated York. It was his esteemed pride to be trusted with this, when Samael was reluctant to even bring it to his beloved bat.

Samael shifted a bit and York couldn't help wincing at the odd jostle deep in his bowels. Samael didn't have Wash's length but oh lord, did he have breadth. York reminded himself to praise Andee for the little bat's apparent stretchiness because holy shit. An apology was whispered into his shoulderblades and he smiled again while squeezing his fingers into Samael's forearm, trapped as it still was under his chest. "It's...okay, Sammy. It's all...good," he mumbled between his own stilted breaths.

A few seconds of silence until a tiny sniffle washed over him as Samael wrapped both arms around his larger frame and pushed a wet cheek into his back. "Thank you, hon."

York chuckled before gritting his teeth briefly -- even that flicker of movement was enough to send a weird bolt along his spine. Yeah, this was going to take some getting used to. "I-It's my pleasure, b-buddy," he stammered before exhaling carefully and giving a half-smile into the damp sheet beneath him. "Now h-hurry up before...these crazy drugs fade...and r-roll that ass over. You're the...big spoon this time..."

* ~ * ~ * NSFW Ends * ~ * ~ *

Samael's sob was tinged with appreciable entertainment as he clung to York and then grunted while pulling them both to one side. York's eyes bulged and he did his best to not flinch when they rolled over as gingerly as possible. It could be easy to forget that Samael packed a lot of goddamn strength in that stumpy little body of his.

York's butt was certainly a testament to that.

He closed his eyes with a half-smile as Samael curled against his back, the smaller chupa looping one of his legs with York's while their tails instinctively entwined. The intoxication was trickling out of him, leaving him with the untainted euphoria of their coitus...as well as the blossoming ache from an experience that made Wash's ruff suddenly tender by comparison. Now he really was starting to wonder what the hell Andee was made from.

"You all good, Sammy?" he croaked while rubbing his fingers over his friend's bulging arm.

He felt the smile returned into his course fur. "Think I'm s'posed to be the one askin' you that, sweetie..." He hesitated and then added in a sheepish voice: "I can, uh. I c'n...pull out if ya--"

"NO, no, god...no-no, it's good," York blurted, grinning even as he flushed a bit and let his muzzle drop onto the bed. "My guaranteed girly-screech aside, I could, ah. I could probably get used to this." He took a moment to consider the confidence. "Maybe. Kee-rist, please tell me you and Andee used some of that magical bat-lube, because otherwise I think you might need to have your boyfriend checked out to make sure he's not a witch or something..."

"We sure ain't," Samael mumbled while mashing his face into York's back. "I honestly ain't sure how my li'l fruit bat weren't torn in half. I know I ain't no big ol' monster down there, but --"

"Lord, don't put yourself down," York interrupted with a snort. "Trust me, length isn't everything."

"Oh, yer the master'a takin' dicks now, huh?" Samael teased, though a gentle laugh tickled York's spine as his fingers drifted tenderly through his damp fur. "Still gonna apologize, I toldja I ain't, uh. I ain't quite the same when I'm..."

"It's fine, pal," York reassured before breaking into a lilting tone. "Only once a year, right?? I'll, uh. I'll be ready next time."

"Haw, like Andee's gonna let me get away with comin' to you again once he finds out," Samael retorted. York felt the second smile, though, as Samael squeezed him tightly. "Can't appreciate you enough, hon, seriously. I'm...I'm real scared'a hurtin' him, 'cause you seent how confident the li'l bastard is..."

York smiled again and closed his fingers around Samael's hand, engulfing it entirely. They'd shared a hell of a lot more intimate, honest conversation than he'd expected to during what was meant to be a booze-and-drug-fueled sex-fest. But he supposed that was the very core of who they were as friends. And it made the intention beneath Samael's words crystal-clear -- he wasn't just afraid of physically harming his partner thanks to the violent nature of his ruff. He feared the same things York did with Wash. The fear of hurting them emotionally, of making them care about someone when neither Wash nor Andee wanted a goddamn thing to do with those kinds of feelings. Or feelings in general.

But try as they did to show otherwise, they weren't heartless, and York had seen first-hand that Wash had plenty of emotions buried under his hardened carapace. He had no doubt Andee was the same way.

"You aren't alone there, pal," York murmured after a few seconds. "Just because I got brave and-or stupid enough to agree to hopping on the Pony Express doesn't mean I'm not freakin' terrified of messing up Wash, too."

"Aww, you ain't that big neither, hon," Samael replied playfully, giving the slightest bump of his hips to make them both squirm.

York snickered and Samael chortled...and then they fell silent again, allowing the masquerade to play out the truth beneath their levity. Samael's fingers inched up across his chest, pulling York's arm with the movement, until his claws graced the key nestled between his misty fur and the silken sheets beneath their entangled bodies. "You two are gonna be okay, York. Y'all been through too much shit, 'n got too many reasons to fight to see a future together."

The brand sizzled on York's hip and he closed his eyes. He wanted so badly to simply accept Samael's reassurance. "I..." He hesitated. "I know. I know we will, because I've never wanted anything so bad my entire life. I'm not doing all of this for the Movement or for Sirca or for myself. I'm doing it for him. And even if he never comes to me, even if he keeps telling me he needs time..."

"You're gonna be there," Samael concluded softly. "Pups never say die."

"Pups never say die," York repeated with a faint smile. "God, if the cones ever hear about --"

"Hear about what??"

York's eyes flew open as he and Samael both jerked their heads up as one to stare at the door, which now stood ajar as an imposing figure was swallowed by the darkness of the outside hallway. York gulped, barely even twitching despite the lurch deep in his gut when Samael shifted to stare over his arm. They flinched together when their interloper took a step forward before York blinked stupidly as CT's delighted features were splashed with the soft bedroom lights, her hands on her hips as she strode into the room with an appraising smirk at the curled-up friends. "Sup, dudes?!"

"C-C-Connie!" York squeaked, strangled by his shock as he fumbled for a loose sheet to tug over his partial arousal. "What the hell!?"

Luckily, Samael's reaction was far more relaxed as he chuckled and rested his muzzle on York's arm while keeping his own looped comfortably around the larger chupa. "Well, hey there, honeybunch!" he announced cheerfully.

CT's predatory grin only grew as she eyed York and the flush he knew she saw right through his tan fur. "Where's the York, now, huh? Normally when I catch you two in the act, it's all chuckles and fuckles -- you act like I've never seen either of your dicks before!"

"Th-this is different!" York wheezed, unsure if he was still grateful that Samael hadn't pulled out and remained snugly attached.

"Sorry y'cain't see mine, it's hidin'," Samael drawled easily as he winked at CT, then grinned over at York.

"A m-man's ruff is a private affair!" York stammered in one final, failing attempt to maintain some semblance of his dignity. "You coulda knocked!"

CT snickered and wandered over to the table to inspect the remnants of their supplies. "Uh huh, this coming from the guy who typically sports a neon sign over his spines and has an open invitation to 'come on in and join' whenever the stocking is on the door..." She picked up a jar of moonshine to sniff, then sample while her eyes drifted back to him in entertainment.

York shrunk back into Samael somewhat, but the redneck's confidence was already helping to soothe him as his toes curled sheepishly into Samael's paws. "Yeah, well..." His eyes darted over his shoulder to Samael. He looked honestly at ease, though, nothing like the nervous wreck he'd been when first propositioning York.

...Still worth trying to use the horny bastard as an excuse.

"Sammy's...sensitive about this stuff!" York blurted, praying that said horny bastard would forgive his best buddy.

Samael's only response was to giggle quietly, however, and then rest his cheek on York's bicep again as he gazed over at CT. "He ain't wrong. 'S...a touchy subject. Sorry fer talkin' circles 'round you earlier, I just. It ain't somethin' I talk 'bout very much."

"Yeah, well, to your credit, you also weren't on whatever all this is..." CT trailed off as she picked up the mostly-empty container of mushrooms before squinting at the vials and then swiping a finger across the rim of one to sample a drop of the remaining substance. She blinked and then shook her head rapidly before squinting at the duo. "Holy shit, is this crystal?"

"Them bats got the good stuff!" Samael chirped as York whipped his head around -- and then winced at the additional jostling -- to stare stupidly at his friend.

"W-we did crystal?!" York spluttered.

"I mean, you barely cried this time 'round, an' I weren't bein' too gentle, so..." Samael offered him a crooked grin, even if there was tangible contrition in his features. "Figgered it was worth it. Hopefully you ain't too mad."

York blinked again before huffing, though he couldn't avoid the stupid grin. "Uh, no I'm not mad, that was the best party I've ever had, e--"

"Even if you got Sampi's famous hardwood shoved up your ass?" CT supplied with another grin of her own. York blanched and then pouted at her as she cackled and enjoyed another sip of moonshine. "I knew there was somethin' you were hiding besides that cute blue dick, shortstack," she added with a pointed glare at Samael. "You know I can't stand a liar."

It was Samael's turn to shrink slightly against York's back as his eyes peered over the top of York's thick arm. "Hey, it weren't...technically a lie, I said I had stuff to try out and...didn't wanna hurt Andee with it."

York's embarrassment softened into a concerned frown as he glanced at Samael again. But CT's own squint grew gentle as well as she wandered closer to the bed and then bent down to scoop up the bottle of lubricant. York couldn't help gawking when he noticed it was more than half-empty. He suddenly had never been so grateful for Samael's tendency to lack restraint. Things might not have gone so, er. Smoothly had he been less liberal in his application of the stuff.

CT shook the container with a half smile. "Yeah, fair enough. If York's big-but-tight, almost-virgin ass needed this much --"

"Hey!"

"--then I can imagine what it'd take to not make Andee-soup." She took another slow sip while her eyes locked on Samael. "I'm just surprised he was cool with you bringing your ruff to your best buddy."

York did his best to keep his expression neutral, but he could tell by CT's grunt that Samael failed to do the same as she grumbled. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Goddammit, what the hell have I told you two dumbasses?" Samael opened his muzzle but she thrust a finger at him, her hand still wrapped around the lube. "Yeah, yeah, I know, but I've told York, and I already know you two talk as much as you screw, so no way York hasn't passed on some of that goddamn advice."

York winced when Samael's lame shuffle closer to his back sent a shudder along his legs. He gave the bravest smile he could for them both. "Give the guy a break, C -- he almost cried asking me for help on this one."

"Fair trade, I guess, considering I'm assuming your wet cheeks aren't from how tender he treated that ass," CT retorted.

York huffed but didn't deny it as he jut his chest out proudly. "You know what...yeah, I cried! Because Sammy's ruff ain't no joke! And I took it like a man!" He paused and lifted a finger on the hand not still wrapped around Samael's. "A man that was drunk and on every drug --"

"An' 'bout a quart of lube--" Samael murmured against his back with a smile that York could feel and take reassurance from.

"Yeah! And about a quart of lube, but still!" He glanced over his shoulder and then squeezed his companion's fingers. "That's what friends do."

CT dropped into one of the folding chairs with a bemused smile, propping her head up in one hand as the other set the lubricant on the table to once more be replaced with liquor. "Nice try with the cute puppy distraction, fellas. Doesn't change the fact that you can't keep being too scared of what Wash -- or Andee -- is gonna say. You keep pussing out like that and it's gonna be more than just a sob story the two of you can patch up with booze 'n blowjobs." Her features grew painfully honest for a moment as she nodded to them both. "Glad you got each other, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt you'd be the two saddest motherfuckers on Sirca if either of you lost your tiny boyfriend. You guys are too fuckin' close to not sympathize, so let me be real for a second, as fun as this all is to walk in on."

She leaned forward as York and Samael shared a brief glance, but otherwise turned their owlish gazes to her. "Watching you two when you're happy, when things are good with Wash and with Andee...it's the best fuckin' feeling on the ring. Screw anyone who can't handle your spastic asses -- Nelson herself wouldn't ask for it to be any different, because the two of you breathe a lot of goddamn life to a rebellion that's constantly at risk of being choked out." They began to smile, then faltered as she frowned. "But when shit's rough...when your masks start to crack, it's like someone sucked all the air out of the room. We went through that once before." Her eyes were now focused solely on York and he tried not to tremble as Samael blindly clutched into the key. "None of us wanna see that again, because now we'd hafta see it twice."

York felt Samael's head lowering into his back as their legs and tails curled tighter together. He started to reply, but his friend's muffled drawl came first. "A'right, li'l mama. I'll find a way to tell 'im 'fore the next cycle comes rollin' 'round."

York blinked but kept quiet. He sometimes forgot just how smooth Samael's performances could be, even when he was talking to someone he respected.

Even when his junk was still buried in York's trunk, too.

It was apparently convincing enough as CT nodded her approval and then pushed herself to her paws with a sniff as a smile teased her features again. "Better. Now, then."

The smile exploded into a toothy grin.

"So do I just jump right in, or is there a waiver to sign or--" She broke off into laughter as York scowled playfully and grabbed a pillow to fling at her. She caught it deftly and grinned again over the top. "Screw you both, we need to get Samael on the bi-train because I'm tired of being forced to just watch from the sidelines while you two fuck across the whole goddamn base!"

York matched her grin as Samael peeked over his arm to do the same. "Shit, we don't mind an audience, but sorry, CT -- you just ain't packin' what the redneck likes snackin'!" York teased.

She chortled and eyed them both once again. "I already told you I got that covered." York didn't miss the curious shiver from Samael, considering it made his own body squirm as well. "Anyway, nah, this is obviously puppy time, I'll leave you two be." She paused and then smirked while reaching out to pick up the bat-made lubricant again. "Mind if I borrow this?"

"Heh, yeah, I'm sure that'd be fi--" York squeaked when Samael ground forward and into him, his eyes bulging as his friend leaned over his arm and traced his tongue over a row of eagerly glistening teeth.

"Sorry, hon, but...we gonna need it again. I promise I'll bring you a batch next time," he purred, barely masking the soft growl in his throat.

He winked and then looked over as York stared up at him. "W-we...we are?"

York could hear the spines scratching over the sheets as Samael's eyes half-lidded. "We are." Samael raised his hand and CT smirked as she tossed the bottle over to be snatched neatly out of the air. "You mind gettin' the door?"

"Cocky. Little. Snowball," CT declared even as she grinned and tipped her head slightly while raising the jar of moonshine. "I'll take this as a down payment for now." She offered her own wink to them. "Good luck, York."

York gawked after her, his muzzle working stupidly to try and formulate something akin to real words. But all he managed was "H-h-help...?" before she cleared her throat and fired a finger-gun at them from the doorway.

"Oh yeah! Wash said he'd be back in about six hours. I'll let him know where you are!" she announced with a lilt.

"W-wait!" York stammered before squealing again as Samael bumped his hips forward again and tossed a jingling salute with his tail.

"Appreciate it, CT! I'll try'n be done by then!"

"T-t-try!?"

The door was pulled firmly shut as Samael nipped lightly at York's spine, a twist of concern melted into his heated rumble. "You alright, big guy?"

"I haven't been alright since the day I meet you, Samael..." He paused as a smile drifted onto his features, squeezing his tail firmly around Samael's. "But I wouldn't change it for a damn thing. Except this time, I wanna be on top."

Whatever lingering hesitation on Samael's features must have morphed into a grin as he set aside the lubricant to grip firmly into York's hip. "Heh. Sure thing, hon." York perked before Samael added: "Right on top'a this Sampi surprise..."

"Oh lord..." His eyes bulged even as he lost the fight against the stupid grin, licking his muzzle eagerly. "Then gimme that goddamn lube, pal, and pray to Sirca this bed is reinforced, 'cause I'm about to show you how the York rides a dick..."

Red vs Blue © Rooster Teeth. Halo © 343 Industries. Concept by Myshu, assisted by The Department of Chupapology.