Sanguinius/Konrad Curze - no title. Sexytimes.

[lady_kishiria]

“What a dump.”

Konrad Curze gazed across the desert plain. In the light cast by Baal’s first moon, he could see the fortified compound on the edge of the city that supported the fortress-monastery of the Blood Angels. The Great Angel himself spurned life in the fortress-monastery itself, preferring to live like a Secundan tribesman on the planet.

This meant 9-meter walls that sloped outward. Curze could smell farm animals inside along with wood smoke and cooking odours. He could hear radios playing different stations, all in a language he didn’t understand.

He raced to the wall nearest him and leaped. His claws caught in the barely perceptible seams between the mud bricks and he propelled himself further upwards. The tops of the walls were studded with broken glass bottles, which shattered under his armoured palms although they would have stopped a conventional intruder.

Curze dropped to the ground in the shadows behind an animal pen. He was silent, but a dog still started barking. Fucking dogs. The thing would be after him in a minute, so he darted from the pen to what smelled like a hay barn to a chicken run. He paused to think for a minute before diving towards the first small mud-and-timber cottage.

The dog kept barking. He heard an old woman’s voice shouting at it, followed by her shout of, “Sankin! Sankinjan!”

A moment later, the man himself emerged from the largest building, bolter at the ready. There was no point in still hiding. Curze held his hands up and came out into the moonlit yard. “Don’t shoot, brother. It’s only me.”

Sanguinius trained the bolter at Curze. “Only you? I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“I never thought I’d see you looking like that.”

Sanguinius shrugged. He was dressed in what looked like pajama bottoms and a sleeveless shirt. He wore sandals on his feet and his hair, which was its natural black, was in a ponytail. “I’m at home.”

“Sorry about Signus Prime. I heard about that. I hope you are recovering.”

“Curze, just tell me why you’re here, or get out.”

“I need hospitality.”

Sanguinius lowered the bolter. “I was afraid you’d say that. Do you know the rules?”

“I’ve read them. I get three days, but I can’t kill anyone in your household, nor can anyone kill me.” Curze ambled up to the Angel, grinning his terrible grin.

“I have a primarch-sized guest room.”

“I want to clean up, for your sake.”

“Good. It has a primarch-sized bath. Follow me.”

The main house was built to accommodate even the largest primarchs. The main room was a high-ceilinged hall, with a long feasting table and benches as the centerpiece. One end was furnished as a lounge, with overstuffed low-backed chairs and sofas. There was an audio-video system and a number of tables. A gray and white cat sat on the back of a particular mutilated chair, paws folded beneath its body. It opened yellow eyes to gaze at Curze before deciding that washing its paw was more interesting.

A short hall off the lounge led to a long hallway with closed doors. Sanguinius opened the first and pointed inside. Like the rest of the place, it had a red clay tile floor, whitewashed adobe walls and a slanting ceiling. There was a bed, nightstand, desk and chest of drawers along with a door leading to a bathroom.

“All yours,” Sanguinius said. “I’ll have Jassiya make you something to eat.”

Once alone, Curze stripped off his tattered cloak and armour. Underneath he wore a black bodyglove, which he peeled off and dropped to the floor. Everything stank, so he resolved to clean it himself because the smell certainly didn’t bother him at all. In the bathroom he located fresh toiletries and towels, so he turned on the water in the tub and prepared to soak.

He scrubbed, shampooed, clipped and brushed. When he stepped out of the bathroom, over an hour later, there was a set of hooded robes lying on the bed for him. They were tan and reddish brown, which were subdued Blood Angels livery, but he put them on anyway. There probably wasn’t anything else available.

When Curze emerged, Sanguinius was waiting for him at the table. He had changed into similar clothing, but in brighter tones with the winged blood drop on the tabard. He stood and did a double take as Curze approached.

“I never noticed,” Sanguinius told him.

“What?”

Sanguinius guided him to a half-bath that was off the main room, probably intended for use during functions. When they stood in front of a mirror, it was obvious what he meant.

“We do look like brothers,” Sanguinius said.

Curze stared, then nodded slowly. They shared facial shape, the same nose and mouth. They each had long black hair, although Curze kept his shorter and ragged. Their eyes and skin tones were vastly different, but aside from that, they were unmistakably siblings.

The old woman, Jassiya, Sanguinius had called her, came into the room. She was hunched and wrapped in a reddish-brown robe, a striped shawl around her shoulders. She said something to Sanguinius and gave Curze a suspicious look as she left.

“You dinner’s ready,” Sanguinius said.

After the meal, Konrad and Sanguinius took to the porch with several bottles of wine to watch the sun go down. “This is a good place,” Konrad said. “Quiet. Hardly any people for miles. That old lady who cooks and cleans for you, she your adopted mother?”

Sanguinius gazed into the depths of his wineglass. “No. I don’t have one. She was always kind to me when I was a child though, gave me food and made me clothes.”

Konrad blinked his all-black eyes at him. “You weren’t raised in a family?”

“No. I was not.” He swallowed some wine.

“I thought you were. You’re so…”

“Well-adjusted?”

“Yes.”

Sanguinius shook his head. “I will tell you more about my background than any of the other brothers know. Even Horus doesn’t know this, and for that, I am grateful.”

Konrad nodded. “The consequences of someone betraying your trust. I know those all too well.” He drew his knees up to his chin, which was a favourite position for him.

“Sanguinius, or ‘Sankin’ as it is in Secundan, isn’t a name. It’s a generic word attached to an orphan. Sure, the Blood took me in, but nobody wanted me actually living in their home. Someone fed me as a baby, but once I could walk and talk I was put in with the rest of the kidpack. It’s not as gang-like as it sounds,” Sanguinius said, with a reassuring tone, “it was just me growing up with a bunch of sisters mostly, and a couple of intellectually impaired brothers who were strong enough to do work. That’s how we lived. We were all free labour. The girls gathered wood, or helped weave and sew. They’d usually get married as soon as they became women. Not as first wives usually, though one sister did. I was set to herding larger animals as soon as I was big enough. “

“So, you were a slave.”

“Yes, Konrad. I was a slave.”

“So why the hell didn’t you just declare exterminatus on Baal Secundus? I would have!”

“Because like you, I eventually became their leader. I was the biggest man on the planet, and the strongest, so even though I was an orphan, and deformed, it made sense for me to start leading warbands. I stopped being the hired hand maybe a decade after I was found. Nobody kept track of time, really. I fought battles against mutants, and I kept winning, so by Secundan standards that made me the one everyone looked to. The Conclave of Blood is the loyajirga, or ruling parliament, and once I was head of that, I was ruler of every human on the planet. I passed the laws I wanted to see. Sanguinii aren’t slaves any more. They all live together, but they live together in a school. The literacy rate on Baal Secundus is now up to 50%. I made good, is what I told Father when I met him.”

Konrad’s lips peeled back from his sharpened teeth. “And Horus threw a treasure like you away. I’d be happy to rip his throat out for you, if you ask.”

Sanguinius’s brow furrowed. “His death belongs to me,” he stated firmly.

“You wanna have revenge sex, then?” Konrad asked.

“Yes. Yes, I’d like that very much.”

Konrad leaned forward and kissed him. After a moment, he sat back and said, “People don’t usually turn to me for comfort, you know. I hope I can do this right.”

“I don’t think there’s any wrong way,” Sanguinius assured him. “You’re not Horus. That’s half of it right there.”

“Excellent.” Konrad slid over on the bench they were sitting on, carefully placed his hands on Sanguinius’s back below his wings, and pulled him in closer. They kissed gently for a while, until Konrad pulled back and said, “Let me know if I get too enthusiastic with my teeth here.”

“I have something to show you,” Sanguinius murmured. “Not a secret, but something I show to almost no one.”

“Oh?”

Sanguinius bared his teeth and his fangs slid out like switchblades.

Konrad stared in awe. “If you don’t take me to bed this second, I will not be held responsible for what Night Haunter might do.”

Sanguinius grabbed his hand and pulled him into the house.

The master suite was very normal. There was a huge bed, large enough for two primarchs, with a bedspread and sheets in sage and sand colours. There were about six bolsters on the bed, lined up tidily. The floor was bare wood with area rugs on it and the walls and ceiling were plain white stucco. There were tasteful framed paintings on the walls, but Konrad wasn’t in the mood to inspect them.

“That’s a lot of pillows,” Konrad said.

“They support my wings when I sleep,” Sanguinius told him. “We can put them to other uses shortly.” He drew Konrad close and kissed him again.

Konrad gave out a small yelp of surprise as one of Sanguinius’s fangs drew blood. Sanguinius pulled back, apologizing. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! That’s a hazard of kissing me I’m afraid. I also, um, bite sometimes in the heat of passion.”

Konrad nodded and licked the blood from Sanguinius’s lips. “Keep talking like that. I love it, and you can bite me as much as you want. Fair warning, I do the same.”

Sanguinius’s eyes were smoky with lust. “Why didn’t we get together like this earlier?”

“Because you were totally married to that asshole and I was covered in other peoples’ blood all the time?”

“True.”

He reached out and started undoing the front of Konrad’s tunic at which point Konrad attempted to do the same. “Sangy? How do I get your shirt off?”

Sanguinius turned around. “My tops all go on like aprons and close at the back.” His tunic fell forward off him and he turned his attention to Konrad’s belt.

“Eager little pigeon, aren’t you?” Konrad asked as his pants fell to the floor.

“In a word, yes,” Sanguinius told him. He knelt at Konrad’s feet and began kissing his inner thighs. Konrad sighed and ran his fingers through Sanguinius’s hair. Sanguinius’s tongue pressed against the underside of Konrad’s member, right where the shaft met his balls and he almost shot through the ceiling with pleasure. Having disarmed him, Sanguinius needed only slight pressure to tip Konrad back onto the mattress.

Sanguinius spread out on top of him. Normally this would have elicited panic from Konrad, but Sanguinius weighed very little and the sight of those wings above them made the whole situation unlike any Konrad had been in before.

Still, Konrad felt he should give Sanguinius warning. “Listen, before we go further, there’s things that trigger me and make the Night Haunter come out. “

Sanguinius pulled back. “I’m listening.”

“Don’t pull my hair. Don’t put your hands on my neck. I also don’t like giving oral sex. It reminds me too much of…things I had to do when I was a kid.” He looked pointedly at Sanguinius. “You probably have a few of those.”

“No, actually. Once someone tried to touch me in a way I didn’t want. Once. I snapped his arm with my wing. I couldn’t fly back then, but I could break a man’s bones.”

Konrad grinned. “Good for you.”

“No, my problems are all logistical. I can’t lie on my back, which makes things complicated.”

“How do you manage?”

Sanguinius stroked Konrad’s hair. “Usually I’m on top. You can be behind me if I’m kneeling with my wings to either side.”

“I like that position.”

Sanguinius smiled, showing his fangs again. “Excellent. “

He sat up so Konrad could undo his waistband and slide his trousers down. Sanguinius pulled Konrad up to lie on his side, facing him, and they wrapped arms, legs and wings around each other, clinging tight. They forgot their earlier plans as they rubbed their bodies against each other, the friction being all they needed to satisfy the ache in their loins. Once in a while they would slide a hand down to reposition or give some extra strokes. Their kisses alone were almost enough, tongues exploring each others’ mouths, fangs and sharpened teeth drawing blood.

Sanguinius broke the kiss and Konrad saw that his pupils were dilated to the point of almost obscuring the irises. Before Konrad could ask what was going on, Sanguinius’s fangs were going into the flesh of Konrad’s neck.

Konrad didn’t panic. Konrad should have panicked, but instead, Konrad had one of the best orgasms of his life. The world vanished, the earth shook, and he saw stars. He probably made a noise, but he couldn’t tell.

As the room slowed its spinning, Konrad thought to return the favour, sinking his own teeth into Sanguinius’ shoulder. Sanguinius let out a howl of his own, and Konrad felt fresh hot wetness against his belly. Sanguinius tasted good; like iron, with sweet undertones.

They lay motionless like that for an unknown amount of time. Sanguinius withdrew his fangs first, after which Konrad also let go. They kissed each other’s faces clean, after which Sanguinius kissed Konrad’s forehead and said, “I’m sorry . I’ve never lost control like that before. I should have held on; you told me your neck was a no-go area and not only did I go there, I hurt you.”

“Hurt me? I wouldn’t call what you did hurting me. Although I don’t know if I can walk. Besides, looks like I gave as much as I got.” He kissed the deep bite mark on Sanguinius’s shoulder. It was already healing, as was the wound on Konrad’s own neck.

Sanguinius produced a box of soft tissues and they cleaned up. That done, Konrad lay on his back with Sanguinius using his chest as a pillow. He slid his arm around Sanguinius’s back, under the wing joints and they lay silently for a long time.

Eventually, Sanguinius said, “My back, right between my wings, is an erogenous zone, too.”

Konrad opened a sleepy eye. “Horus is the biggest fool in the galaxy.” He dragged Sanguinius back on top of him.