Reunited

 

Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs to Edios and Crystal dynamics, they are not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Kain . . . then he’d be mine, my own pet Kain ^_^ *coughs* my birthday is on . . .

 

Warning: it has to be said . . . . this fic contains YAOI (GuyXGuy), blood play and a lemon, if this offends or upsets you do not read this, it’s that simple.

 

Defiance references

 

If you choose to avoid any of these things the back button is right there for your use and I hope you find what you are looking for. By continuing you are acknowledging the above information and accepting it.

 

Pairing: Kain/Magnus

 

Rating: NC-17

 

Part: Four of FIVE. Right that’s it Magnus is out of control, he’s run away with this fic!!!! I’ll have to hire help to track him down *goes off in search of phone book* muse control?

 

Believe it or not it was meant to be a one off but Magnus got out of hand.

 

Set: Post Smooth. Kain has left Sebastian dead in the industrial quarter and now finds himself colliding with another visage from his past

 

Authoress note: I’m tired.  

 

EXPRESS WARNING: LEMONY GOODNESS 

 

 

 



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Chapter Four

 

{Magnus}

 

He hadn’t known he was sleeping.

 

One moment he was reaching up a pail unscarred hand to brush through ice white hair; then, the next one, he was blinking rapidly, looking at dark crooked stones, shivering slightly as the cold got through even his vampiric resistance. Looking around, he felt the memory fade slowly into the background of his mind, and as it faded, so did the emotions brought on by it, and he felt his fragmented common sense returning.

 

The warrior in him began to take control. This place was no longer safe, those . . . creatures knew he was here and he had stupidly not moved. They could come back anytime. He stood slowly, feeling all his joints scream at him in defiance to such movement. His muscles felt heavier and harder to move than they had in a long time, but he paid it little attention. He was used to feeling weak. Tensing, he leapt from the ledge, claws scrabbling to get a grip on a nearby wall, pulling loose chunks of rock which hurtled downwards, crumbling when they struck the floor.

 

He leapt again, escaping the room, looking for ledges and handholds he could jump to. He assumed those creatures followed him through scent but he knew they couldn’t climb, so he often moved about the prison by leaping from high ledge to high ledge, hoping they wouldn’t be able to smell him this far up. But no matter how hard he tried, those things always found him anyway. However, he had to hope. Maybe this time they wouldn’t find him or at least maybe this time it would take a lot longer. There always had to be hope, or else there would be nothing.

 

His limbs were getting heavier each minute. He struggled, finding it difficult to grip onto the handholds he found, and twice he lost his grip and fell to the hard floor below. It took him a moment to think what was wrong. He had only just slept, so why did he feel this tired? Then suddenly he realized: they had drugged the human. The human must have had enough drugs inside of him to put down a fully grown daemon; by eating the boy, Magnus had eaten the drugs. He cursed aloud; those damn creatures were getting smarter every time. Each time they did something different to capture him, from just plain chasing him down till he was too exhausted to run anymore, to traps, to drugging his food.

 

He spat from the ledge he was perched on in anger and looked around this new room he occupied. A large bridgeless river moved timelessly through the room. Cages which no doubt held prisoners lay submerged beneath the ever flowing water, and just above the river was exactly what he was looking for. A deep hole had been carved into the rocks, possibly caused when a cage had spun out of control, colliding with the wall, making a hole big enough for a man to crouch on.

 

For a moment he thought it an optical illusion or a mirage brought on by the now obvious drugging, but the longer he looked at it, the more real it seemed. It was carved into the wall about twenty meters above the water. Those things couldn’t climb and couldn’t swim; this was most likely the safest place he had ever found. Clambering down to the floor, he tiptoed across, praying those spider creatures were either not present or would not notice him. He hated fighting them, and right now, with his vision beginning to blur, he doubted he would be able to even if he wanted to. So he tiptoed until he was at the edge of the water and looked up at the wall for any obvious paths to get up. 

 

Half an hour and three close calls later, he hauled himself up onto the ledge and lay on his back, gasping for unneeded breath. He was amazed to find that the ledge went back further than he thought, and if he crouched at the back he would be invisible to all those bellow him. This was definitely the safest place and he thanked whatever gods existed that he had found it.

 

It had to be fate.

 

He smiled to himself as he lay down at the back of the hovel. Kain had always spoke ill of fate, saying that fate was a cruel master and no one was truly free to make their own choices as long as fate controlled everything. Magnus smirked, feeling the drugs take a stronger hold of him, making his eyelids drop. Fate had never steered him wrong, fate had always helped him. He laughed quietly, feeling that his throat was raw. He’d never admitted to believing in fate. Vorador and Kain alone were far too fatalistic for their own good; the army hardly needed another one.

 

He drifted softly into a drugged sleep.

 

 

He just lay there; he didn’t have the energy or strength to move, he was perfectly at peace just lying here, feeling the press of Kain against his side with an arm wrapped possessively around his waist. It was heavenly. He felt his own breathing calm; he knew he was dozing off and he was quite content to let himself do it. But the other clearly wasn’t. He smiled as clawed fingers slid through his cropped hair and he felt the other sit up.

 

“Don’t tell me I’ve worn you out.” Kain’s tone had an obvious smirk to it. He cracked open an eye to check and yes, Kain was smirking,

“Of course not,” he smiled, hearing how husky his own voice was, how heavy it sounded weighed down by the after glow. Determined to prove himself, he used Kain’s shoulder to hoist himself up, pushing the other down and straddling his hips. “I can go on all night.” The words didn’t sound as good as they might have as they were broken up by a yawn.

 

“Indeed.” Kain actually smiled, ignoring the nod from Magnus, he continued, “Go to sleep.” His smile turned to a smirk. “Big day tomorrow, we win a war.”

“Arrogant,” Magnus muttered. Kain smirked wider with pride. “We should celebrate then,” Magnus grinned and silently cursed how childish and petulant his own voice had sounded. Kain made a small sound of agreement and reached up, pulling Magnus down and pressing their mouths together.

Magnus smiled into the kiss, one hand winding deep into smooth ashen hair, tugging gently, making quiet keening sounds escape Kain. The other arm wrapped strongly around pale shoulders, holding them tightly together. The feel of their smooth naked skin pressed together was wonderful. The strange tightness in his chest returned abruptly and he nearly choked. Kain pulled back, pushing Magnus up a little, a rarely seen look of surprise crossing his features.

 

“I’m fine.” Magnus swallowed. Kain didn’t look convinced. Magnus smiled a little, trying to force the strange tightness down, and slid his own hand down, running it over a strongly muscled abdomen before it found its goal. “Really, I am fine,” he purred.

 

The look of surprise and concern on Kain’s pale features had melted when Magnus’ rather talented hand had reached down and found his erection that lay against his stomach, beginning to stroke it teasingly. Magnus let out a surprised yelp at the low growl that escaped Kain when he grabbed his hips, lifting him off of his body easily as if he weighed no more than a paper doll. Magnus’s yelp turned to a little gasp as the pale-skinned vampire rolled him smoothly onto his back and covered his body with his own.  

 

 

 Something deep in the bowels of the prison screamed as it was caught, cold grasping claws latching onto it, with no possible thought of letting go. The scream fell silent as the sound of tearing took its place. Something was being ripped apart. He swallowed, his throat completely dry, his stomach tied in knots. He felt like he would be violently ill. He could hear footsteps, strong evenly place footsteps. That in itself was strange; the monsters that ran this place, the wardens, made no sound as they moved, and the humans here shuffled along, while the spider daemons clicked on the cold stone floors. Nothing actually took footsteps.

 

The steps grew louder. It sounded like amour walking briskly. It reminded him of the sound he used to make when walking fully armored, of the strange clanking Sebastian would make. He had always laughed at the amount of armor Sebastian wore; he was sure he had said something to Kain about it once…

 

 

“At least I don’t look like a tin can,” he snapped harshly.

 

“The more he wears, the more anticipation there is when he takes it off.” Kain glanced at him over the map he was currently glaring at. Magnus felt his jealousy spiral almost out of control. He opened his mouth to speak, but found his throat closed tightly. He turned and stormed out of the room.

 

 

“It’s here. I can smell it!” The voice reached deep down inside of him and stabbed at his organs, causing irrational pain to spasm through his body like lightening. He prayed silently to have let himself have misheard. Please, no… He would rather willingly go with the wardens than fall into the hands of that thing again.

 

He peered over the side of his sanctuary and felt the lump in his throat grow so big he stopped breathing; fear coiled around him like a snake and tightened its grip on him, squeezing.

 

The Serefan lord stood bellow.

 

The golden creature was surrounded by the monsters that worked this hellhole; it seemed to be looking for something. Fighting the urge to curl up and sleep again, he leaned further over the edge, not thinking about being seen. He wanted to know why that murdering monster was here.

 

“. . . continue rumors, I have many men and . . . others searching the city to see if they are true. I doubt that they could be, I killed that vampire with my own hands.” The golden-armored monster stopped talking for a moment and looked down at his hands, tensing his long-clawed fingers. Really, there was no way this disgusting daemon was human. “But I will take no chances. It matters not weather Kain survived or not, I want all loose ends . . . tied up.”

 

“Master,” one of the wardens spoke, its voice like rusty gears grinding together harshly.

 

“I want anything that could aid a possible return to be destroyed.” He turned sharply to look at Magnus, who was half hanging out of his sanctuary. “I want that thing . . . incapacitated.”

 

Staring at that creature, the horror of the twisted face, the stagnant smell that coiled around him from it. He cursed his heightened senses momentarily as the stench made his head spin. He managed to pull himself back onto the ledge before he collapsed.

 

They were coming for him.

 

 

“What happened to ‘go to sleep’?” Magnus chuckled, almost purring under Kain’s weight. 

 

Kain nipped at the soft skin of his throat in reply before pulling up, sliding dangerously clawed hands up the insides of Magnus’ thighs before pushing them apart. Magnus couldn’t help the little yelp of surprise that escaped him. Kain gave him a rather dangerous look, then slowly pressed forward. He sank into him with an almost reverent gentleness. It surprised Magnus, as he had expected something rather different. He had expected something harsh and bold, maybe even a little pain and blood, but not this. This sent little tingles up and down his spine and brought the ache in his chest back. 

 

He heard his breath catch in his throat as Kain breeched the narrowness of his already relaxed passage. It was completely different to what he had imagined. Whenever he had taken anyone this way it always hurt them. There was always pain, and most of them bled as well. But this hardly ached at all. It was amazingly smooth, yet there was an undeniable solid strength to it and he felt himself go suddenly hard again. The sensation made him gasp.

 

“That . . . feels so . . . good,” he swallowed as the other stilled inside of him, letting him catch his breath. “You have to teach me that.”

 

They were coming. He wasn’t even sure how they were coming but he knew they were, he could hear the terrifying scraping of claws on stone. But they can’t climb! his mind kept screaming at him. What were they doing? The sound of metal scraping across stone reached him and he wailed piteously. They were coming for him.

 

“It’s too soon,” he whispered against the frozen stonework he was lying against.

 

He tried in vain to force himself upwards, but the drugs inside his system seemed to be getting stronger with every passing second. Those things were coming for him and he couldn’t move, couldn’t fight. A three-clawed hand appeared over the rim of the ledge and reached for him; he heard himself whimper and tried to move backwards, but his arms and legs were no longer his to control. He felt blood tears fall from his eyes and heard himself scream as a clawed hand closed on his ankle.

 

 

Blood sweat gleamed on Kain’s skin, making it shine. It reminded Magnus of a book he’d read once about elves, or, as some called them, the shinning ones. They were the most beautiful creatures to ever exist; mortals were hypnotised just by looking at them, and when in lust, the shinning ones would literally glow, shining brighter than any light ever created. Magnus groaned quietly; Kain hadn’t moved, waiting for something. Only Magnus wasn’t sure what. He was getting more and more frustrated with each passing second.

 

“Please,” he gasped, throwing his pride aside.

He felt Kain’s teeth close on the soft skin of his throat again, stopping just shy of breaking the skin. Then he drew back a little and licked the spot he’d nearly bitten. Pulling Magnus’ legs around his waist, he began to move, slowly at first, but picking up speed and force quickly. Magnus heard himself groan and bit down on his lip. Sensations raced through him, feeling as if it would tear him apart unless he let it out somehow; yet still, he tried to keep silent, wishing to keep some dignity. But Kain changed his angle once, then again. The second change made him scream.

 

He felt Kain bite down again on his throat, making his skin tingle. His entire body screamed at him, ‘YES!’, but once more Kain stopped just shy of breaking skin. Gasping, Magnus tilted his head, giving better access and silent permission. He felt Kain purr against him, quickening his pace, pressing into him harder, teeth closing harder.

 

“Please . . . wait,” he gasped. Kain jerked backwards but didn’t lose his rhythm; he looked down at Magnus with clouded eyes. “It’ll finish . . . me,” Magnus managed. Kain smiled and thrust harder.
 
Magnus felt his eyes roll and his breath gushed out of him with a quivering groan. Reaching up, he buried his fingers in white hair and pulled down; he kissed him hard, pressing them together till fangs sliced through lips, the blood making both quiver and almost lose control.

 

As the cuts healed, Magnus wrapped arms around Kain’s shoulders and held he two of them together. His lips worshipped the skin of Kain’s shoulders and neck, occasionally giving nearly dangerous nips, tiny bites that bled droplets and healed as he licked them. He heard Kain growl and push his head aside, fangs grazing over his veins. He shivered and waited.

 

Fangs found their mark and pierced sharply. Magnus heard himself scream as pleasure burst inside of him; he felt his back spasm, making him arch upwards. After a few seconds, his cries were cut off as Kain kissed him harshly, coming hard inside of him.

 

He felt himself being carried; he was helpless, unable to open his eyes. All he could do was hear and feel. He knew instantly that it wasn’t a warden that was carrying him… This creature was much to hard. The skin, if it was skin, was as smooth as beaten metal. The thing carrying him clanked as it walked with even footsteps.

 

He felt himself dropped onto a hard, cold metal table. He felt the creatures around him fasten the straps that would hold him in place; that were strong enough to hold a daemon down, if a daemon should ever be taped to this table. He knew that above him and those who would hurt him would loom a vicious spiked block that could be dropped on him if any would choose. He heard himself whimper again.

 

“Open you eyes, my little failure,” that awful voice commanded. He could not disobey; he found himself an inch away from the Serefan Lord’s unmasked face.

 

It was so foul, he felt himself gag as the stagnant smell of the creature worked into his nostrils. Was this really the last thing Kain had seen before he died?

 

 

After a few breathless moments, Kain had rolled off of him, and pulled him against him. Arms wrapped around him tightly. For a few moments he had licked the hard, toned chest that his face was so close to, tasting the blood covering it. The feeling in his chest returned with a new intensity, but he was getting better at dealing with it now and instead he focused on the feel of the powerful body entwined with his. Then, he closed his eyes and slept.

 

The End of Chapter Four

 

Authoress Note: One more chapter after this me thinks. I hope you have liked it so far and I’m sorry it has taken so long to write, usually I’m better than this.

 

Please Review.

 

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