Go away.He pleaded his erection.Go away. Go away. Go away…
Two days passed. Then three. Then a whole week had gone by. Cullen had not left his room more than a handful of times. And he was always quick to scurry away again at the lightest touch from Leviathan.
He let him go every time without arguing, his lips pulling up into a smile when he saw the flush that darkened Cullen’s pale face each time.
He let him walk away, let him hide up in his room and try in vain to find his relief, though his own erection remained painfully at attention, his hands unable to keep away from himself while he listened to the distant sounds of Cullen touching himself…
He found his hand dropping once more as Cullen moaned in his bathroom, the water streaming around him while he–
Leviathan tore his hand away with a soft snarl, not wanting to get even more worked up than he already had.
Just a few more days, he was sure. Cullen’s body would betray him soon enough.
He was starting to become quite irritable by the time Cullen finally emerged from his room again–nearly three days later. Leviathan took in the tight jeans and the baggy sweatshirt and shifted in his chair, his head coming to rest on his hand while he watched Cullen sit across from him atthe little dining room table.
“You’re flushed.” He said quietly, sliding a slow finger over the dull knife in his hand. “Are you feeling okay?” He heard the edge in his own voice and tried to control it, though his cock gave a low throb at the sight of Cullen so hot and bothered.
“I’m fine.” The boy mumbled, gathering food onto his plate. “I just…I’ve wanted to be alone.”
Liar.
He kept the thought to himself, muscles feathering in his jaw while he waited, watching him eat.
“You…don’t eat much.” Cullen commented, surprising him.
“This,” he gestured towards the food on the table. “Is not what I am hungry for at the moment.
Blood rushed to Cullen’s face, but he said nothing, continuing to eat in silence. The moment he’d put his fork down, Leviathan was out of his seat and standing over him. Cullen flinched back, but didn’t move, his eyes popping wide.
“Would you like to spar with me today?” It was hardly an offer at all, his voice too sharp and demanding.
Cullen’s throat gave a hard bob, nervous energy surrounding him for a few long moments before he finally choked out, “Okay.”
They left the dining room together; he had to fight off another smile when he noticed Cullen sticking closer to the wall as they made their way to the training room, his eyes on the floor.
"Something wrong?" He asked quietly, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.
"N-" His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "No. Not really. I'm…I think I'm getting sick or something. That's all."
"Hmm." Leviathan mused, unable to fight the smirk back this time. Sick indeed. "Well, I guess I won't be seeing too much of you in the next few days, will I?"
"Probably not." Cullen muttered, glaring at the wall as they walked. Leviathan saw his neck turn red and grinned.
Once they were in the training room again, they moved to the center of it, turning to face each other. Noticeably, Cullen kept his sweatshirt on.
"I'm using my shadows today." Cullen muttered.
"Oh? But I thought you wanted to test your new body, to see how strong you've become?" He knew it was just because Cullen wanted to avoid physical contact, but screwing with him really was fun.
“Yeah, well now I want to see how these new powers work. They come from a different place than the light of heaven, so I need practice.” His eyes narrowed slightly and seconds later a tangled pool of shadows flooded the space around him. Leviathan chuckled at the weak summoning, and readied himself for a fight.
It was easy, of course. Cullen’s shadows lunged clumsily at him and he dodged them instantly. A feign to the left, a duck to the right. One swept for his feet and he jumped it with a laugh, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants. Cullen snarled softly and Leviathan shivered at the inhuman sound of it.
The seconds passed and the weak, soft shadows Cullen flicked his way shivered and weakened further as if he were already tired. Or distracted.
He could hear the brat’s heart rate speed, could sense the rage steadily flooding through him, see it in his face as it went red and tense, his eyes blazing with hatred.
The shadows dropped away with a cry of rage, andCullen sprang at him, aiming a fist for his face. It did not take him by surprise. Cullen had always preferred fists over his powers. And he was better at the former anyway.
