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Shin’s mind was close to fracturing. The process had been well underway for a while now, with bits of his awareness cracking off around the edges, sharp like splintered glass for a brief moment before they dissolved in the close heat of urgent, panting breaths. A pointed bite came down on his ear, clicking against the clip of his potara, and he felt the pain sing through his nerves, lightning bright, obliterating any tendrils of thought that attempted to spin into existence.
He was falling apart, couldn’t even attempt to hold himself together, not when all that remained of his focus was directed lower, where Beerus’s fingers rubbed steadily against him, and slightly lower still, where their bodies met more aggressively as Beerus pistoned away inside of him. Somehow there was still enough coherency amid the mess of his brain to remember to let his legs fall open wider, to grip the small of Beerus’s back until his nails dug in the way Beerus liked, to hold his mouth open around ragged cries of “yes, yes, yes” even though the gummed up cotton of his throat robbed his voice of most of the sound.
To think it’d taken over five million years to realize that their working relationship didn’t have to be wholly unpleasant. Granted, it’d been a disaster at the start, but in this newest iteration of crashing together like opposing magnetic poles, they’d managed to turn it into something entirely wonderful and new. Not that there weren’t the occasional pitfalls. Like right then, when Beerus decided, cruelly, to pull his clever fingers away from the one spot Shin needed them most.
Eyes flying open in disbelief, Shin snatched the gold cuff on Beerus’s arm to shove his hand back down between them.
“Easy,” Beerus soothed. His voice shushed like sandpaper over Shin’s cheek. He twisted his hand free and curled his fingers around Shin’s wrist, pulling it up over Shin’s head to pin it to the pillow.
The grip wasn’t painful, but it held firm when Shin tested it. Not a problem, though. All he had to do was let his other hand stray from Beerus’s waist and reach lower, past his stomach, and—
Beerus captured that hand as well and pinned it next to the first, the new position bringing his face back in line with Shin’s. Shin glared up at Beerus. He was partially glad he was restrained — had he managed to slap the roguish grin off of Beerus’s face, Beerus likely would’ve enjoyed it.
Frustration mounting, he wrapped his legs around Beerus’s low back, chasing any friction he could get against the taut skin below Beerus’s belly. Beerus was too quick, though, arching his body over him like a cage, his height putting him at an advantage, allowing him to hold himself just out of reach. It was in moments like these that Shin could understand why Beerus was the most reviled Destroyer in the multiverse.
Unfazed by his fuming, Beerus dipped his head down again and nuzzled into the side of Shin’s neck. A growling purr resonated from the cauldron of his chest as he spoke. “I want to finish you with my mouth.”
Every thought that hadn’t been single-mindedly driven toward his release — or to causing Beerus bodily harm — had diffused into static fuzz, so it was no wonder that all Shin managed to dredge up was a stuttered “W-what—?” before Beerus cut him off by dragging his tongue hot and slow up the shell of his ear.
Shin gasped, his hips jerking futilely in response. Then Beerus’s hands were pressing into his wrists again as he pushed himself back up, holding the Kai prostrate. With no hint of a grin remaining, Beerus’s expression now fell heavy and desperate. He whispered, “Please.”
The word gusted across Shin’s face like a filthy kiss, and Beerus’s tongue lolled out to wet his lips before he spoke again.
“Please.”
Slowly, clumsily, the pieces of Shin’s shattered brain reassembled to register what he was being asked. This was a familiar offer, one he’d always declined in the past, and he began to say “no” again, out of habit. The act just seemed too… passive. Besides, why would he want Beerus’s eyes on him from so far away, with his body laid bare in between, when there were all manner of configurations that let him have Beerus’s face beside his, their bodies flush together?
Equal partners: two sides, same coin — or whatever Beerus’s preferred turn of phrase was. Shin couldn’t quite remember, because the way Beerus’s gaze was burning into him had all his thoughts pooling liquid-hot and useless in the base of his skull once more.
Bright orange eyes, heavy-lidded and underscored by the high flush in his cheeks, bore down, and Shin began to wonder if he had it all wrong: that it was not an offer but a request, that he might actually have the upper hand here.
Perhaps he could indulge his counterpart. Just this once.
He tried to reach up to touch Beerus’s face, to feel the warmth coming off of it, but with his arms still pinned, all he managed was a flex of his fingers as he said, “Alright.”
There was a pause before Beerus’s eyes flashed wide. Then his thoughts roared to life so loudly that Shin could feel them resounding in his own head. The noise made him wince, but before he could glean any more from the cacophony than a general sense of lewd excitement, Beerus growled, falling over him again and ramming his hips forward repeatedly and with so much force that Shin almost came in that instant.
Almost.
Repeating his injustice from earlier, Beerus’s movements juddered to a stop too soon, and he slumped over Shin with a groan, clearly spent.
Well, Shin thought, squirming under Beerus’s dead weight. So much for that idea. He pulled his hands free from Beerus’s now-slack grip to shove at his shoulder. “I thought you said you wanted to…”
But his clipped annoyance trailed off as Beerus peeled off of him, looming briefly once more before shuffling down and settling between Shin’s legs. A feral, hungry grin stretched across his face, and Shin just watched him, momentarily frozen in his bafflement.
Surely Beerus wasn’t still planning to...
Not after he’d just...
In the ensuing beat of silence, Shin could practically hear the pieces clicking together, the sudden realization making him swallow.
Oh.
Oooh.
Oh, no, no, no.
Mortified, he started to command Beerus to stop, his mind revving in preparation to telekinetically slam Beerus’s foul mouth shut if he had to, but when the broad, flat warmth of a tongue pressed against him, a noise tore out from his throat that was much too keening to be a moan, yet far too pleased to be a wail. He gasped in a breath and clamped a hand over his mouth, then tipped his head up to stare, astonished, at Beerus, whose jaw hung open in a predatory leer. Beerus watched him for a moment before his eyes slid shut, and he dragged his tongue the rest of the way up, curling it in a quick flick at the end that nearly made Shin bite through his palm. His body snapped back in an arc, then released, collapsing onto the bed. He stared straight up, breath hissing in and out between his fingers.
“You were about to say something?” Beerus said.
Shin didn’t even have to look down to see the arrogant smile. Face steaming with embarrassment, he parted his fingers to speak. “Shut up,” he told the ceiling.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Shin gritted his teeth. “If you intend to stop now” — he curved his neck up to meet Beerus’s eyes — “I may be tempted to test our life-link.”
A low chuckle gusted over his sensitive skin, and Shin clenched his jaw tighter to bite back any errant noise that might further aid the Destroyer’s ego. Beerus didn’t seem deterred, though, and got back to it in earnest, lapping at him like he was a meal to be relished.
Shin’s hands wrung through the sheets of their own accord after that. His muscles craved resistance now that Beerus wasn’t draped overtop of him. Having been so close with something pounding away inside, his body was struggling to adjust to the switch of sensations. The wet slide of a mouth lacked the friction of fingers, and the soft drag of a tongue was nothing compared to being so full. A bit desperately, he considered telling Beerus to stop, that this just wasn’t going to work, but when that same determined tongue maneuvered inside of him, teasing a few licks before pushing in with more force, followed by Beerus’s hedonistic moan rocketing straight up his spine, Shin realized Beerus wouldn’t care. He’d be content to do this for as long as Shin allowed.
If only he could be this agreeable all the time. It’d make Shin’s job easier, for one thing.
Maybe.
Possibly.
Actually, work really wasn’t what Shin wanted to be focused on right then, so he let the last few nerve-induced threads of distraction fray to nothing, intent on basking fully in Beerus’s attentions.
The cavernous bedroom filled with his own breathy, needy sounds, but he was finding it difficult to care. Even the revulsion he’d felt a moment ago was becoming a fast-fading memory. Or at least, it was until the moment he felt Beerus’s come sliding out of himself. In an instant of appalled clarity, he clenched to hold it back, but the tension in his muscles just stoked up the pleasure, the embarrassment evaporating in the fire of it.
He rolled his hips down, and Beerus didn’t miss a beat, using his tongue to lave up the underside of him. Shin bore down harder, then faster, insistent on setting a quicker pace against that attentive mouth. One hand gripped the crease of his thigh, and he could feel the bruising ache of nails pressing hard into his skin. When the pad of a finger brushed over his entrance, pulling him open further, Shin’s eyes rolled so far back it was painful.
Not all that surprising. Every talent Beerus chose to pursue was perfected to the point of weaponization. What would be the point of a God of Destruction otherwise? Before creation, he always said, comes destruction. It’d been spoken as a taunt, a maxim, a vindication, and Shin had never questioned it. Not because he thought it was true, but because it didn’t matter.
Their vocations existed as a cycle that had been in place long before either of them were born. The progenitor wasn’t important, only the perpetuation. Which meant, right in that moment, if a God of Destruction wanted something to destroy, a Supreme Kai would first need to create.
The pinpoint spark of pleasure between his legs grew into a slowly brightening star, and Shin dutifully played his part. His whole body seized and shook and urged it to flare brighter and brighter and impossibly brighter until the roaring incandescence was out of control, until its very existence was an affront.
Only then was Beerus able to do what he did best.
The Destroyer rendered it all to dust.
Shin’s vision went white in the resulting supernova of climax. The detonation shook through his body, ringing in his ears, ripping all the air from his chest. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe or think.
Perhaps this was the beauty of destruction. A shame it rarely left survivors.
Time slowed under the weight of satisfaction after that. Shin’s senses came back to him, resurfacing from the gauzy fog in his head, and he began putting the pieces of himself back together again. The cycle resumed. The scales swung back. The universe rebalanced.
He blinked once and rolled his head forward to see Beerus unwinding his arms from around his thighs and dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. Distantly, he was aware that Beerus’s expression was smug, but in his daze, he couldn’t be upset. The smugness was, very occasionally, well-earned. With a lazy grin, Shin flopped back onto the pillow, eyes falling closed.
“Good?” Beerus asked.
“Mmhmm.”
Bright fractals of color swam across the backs of his eyelids, and he sucked in a deep breath, sighing it all out slowly so he could savor the way the air tingled across his skin. When he felt Beerus settle back in next to him, he sluggishly cracked one eye open to peek.
Beerus smiled when he noticed him looking and then pointedly licked his lips.
Shin grimaced. “You’re disgusting.”
“And you,” Beerus said, still grinning, “are a prude.”
Shin rolled his eyes and gestured across the mess of Beerus’s bed. “I hardly consider any of this ‘prudish’ behavior.”
Beerus rolled onto his stomach and folded his arms. His gold cuffs clinked together as he rested his chin atop them, and his eyes glittered with taunt. “Unadventurous, then.”
Shin huffed a laugh and reached out to lay a hand on Beerus’s muzzle, gently pushing his cocky gaze away. “And you’re insufferable.”
But that wasn’t even close to the truth, and Beerus must’ve known because he unfolded his arms and gingerly looped his fingers around Shin’s wrist, pulling Shin’s hand off of his nose so he could press his lips into Shin’s palm. The resulting warmth that tingled from the contact, up his arm, spreading throughout the rest of him, had Shin melting back into the sheets once again.
Then Beerus glanced back up at him over the tops of his fingers. “Less cleanup for you, at least.”
Shin groaned and slapped his free hand over his eyes. Sometimes he wondered why Beerus had such a knack for ruining things, but it was likely implied by the job title. Or perhaps Lord Beerus, Destroyer of Moments, simply needed a taste of his own medicine.
His arm still hung loosely from Beerus’s grasp as Shin turned to smile at him. “I’m actually not so sure about that.”
Beerus had been smirking, but the smirk quickly slanted toward confusion. Then anger. “You wouldn’t.”
Shin’s grin widened, and before Beerus could drop his hand, he said, “Kai Kai.”
The pair vanished from the bedroom.
The Supreme Kais of the Seventh Universe had always lived simply, the natural amenities of their Sacred World being more than enough to sustain them throughout the millennia. Being his opposite, it only made sense that Beerus would surround himself with a level of opulence Shin used to find intimidating.
Now he just found it distasteful.
Beerus’s planet boasted flora and fauna that had been pillaged from worlds now destroyed and a sprawling castle that snaked like vines up and through the colossal dead tree that stood in the center of it all. Even at Beerus’s age, there was no way he could’ve spent any significant amount of time in each of the gratuitous rooms and echoing halls. Not with how much time he spent sleeping, anyway. Shin figured most of it was for show.
That being said, he had to admit he loved the bath.
It was roughly the size of a small lake and sat nestled in a huge gap in the trunk, with the gnarled, woody walls stretching up to form a vaulted ceiling. From the mouth of the cavern, one could see the gardens and rolling hills below, the forests that spilled over the horizon, and a smattering of decorative planets that looked like chalk smudges pressed into the rosy sky. A whisper of mist rose lazily off the water, muting the warm light that poured in from outside and softening the glow from the crystals that clung to the walls and ceiling.
From where they hung in the air, that same mist splayed across Shin’s back like chill fingers, exhilarating after the warmth of silk sheets. Beerus must’ve found it exhilarating, too, what with the way he screamed bloody murder, his limbs scrambling futilely for the brief moment it took gravity to register their sudden appearance and plunge them fully into the shallow spa. Shin broke the surface first, glad to get to witness Beerus coming up a few seconds later, coughing up water.
“You bastard!” Beerus shouted.
A flock of birds perched on the artificial waterfall startled into flight, and Shin’s laughter pealed over the flutter of wings. He let himself fall back so he could float cradled in the water and let his eyes fall closed in contentment.
“You could’ve at least waited until it was warm,” Beerus groused off to his side.
“Oh, please,” Shin said. He kicked his feet leisurely. “It’s refreshing.”
“It’s freezing.”
Shin lifted his head, careful not to let any wet hair fall in his face, and arched a brow. “Now who’s unadventurous?”
Beerus opened his mouth to retort, then clapped it shut and sank further into the water with a huff.
“Ingrate,” he muttered and swam up to Shin’s side. He crouched low, shivering. “Keep this up, and I won’t be so generous in the future.”
Shin paddled with his arms until he righted himself. The water wasn’t all that deep, so even at his height, he still had to bend his knees to meet Beerus’s gaze at the waterline.
He regarded Beerus for a moment. “Is that to say you wouldn’t do it again if I asked?”
Beerus’s eyes narrowed to orange slits, and he grumbled into the water. His reply surfaced in a rush of bubbles, but Shin still heard the answer loud and clear in Beerus’s thoughts. Thoughts which quickly turned explicit.
“I didn’t mean right now,” he said, feeling his face burning.
“Hey, a god can dream.”
Shin tutted. “Incorrigible.”
Beerus yawned, then hugged his limbs about himself tighter. “What I really am is tired,” he said, eyelids drooping. “Stay for a nap?”
Shin wanted to blame muscle memory again for how easily he was prepared to decline, but he realized Beerus had never actually asked him for this before.
Perhaps it was the cold, or the exhaustion that prompted the invitation. Shin couldn’t be sure, because it didn’t feel right to peek at his thoughts to corroborate his theory. Instead, he stood there, pinned by Beerus’s gaze, which fell so warm and soft he was nearly unrecognizable. This time when he reached out, Beerus leaned his head into the touch of his palm. Shin smiled and whispered, “Alright.”