Private Party

by Rose Thorne

Disclaimer: Slayers is owned by a bunch of folks who aren't me. I'm borrowing them for my perverse pleasure, much as Xellos borrows emotions for his.

It had started long before Xellos had groped him in Femille, with the priest's near-constant, subtle flirting, but it was that grope, in the middle of a busy street, that had really changed everything.

The flirting was easily ignored. Xellos' nimble fingers fingering him through the fabric of the skirt Zel was wearing, briefly stroking the very piece of anatomy that could get him killed in this city… not so much.

He'd still managed it, albeit not easily, and had been glad he had once they found out that Xellos was really a Mazoku priest.

Not that the information did anything to quell the erotic fantasies that populated his dreams.

Xellos' flirting and almost erotic teasing had continued—undaunted by his pretense of disinterest, which the Mazoku had likely seen right through—throughout their adventures, and had become so normal that Zel actually found himself missing it when he was traveling on his own.

He was even lonelier than he had been before, with Rezo's revelation that there was no cure and any hope of living a normal life, of being accepted by society dashed. So here he was, in the dingy, dark corner of a seedy bar on yet another New Year's Eve spent cursed and alone—was it four years already?—drinking enough for three people on his own.

Oddly, Zelgadis recognized the grope, that same teasing squeeze on his cock as in Femille, before he saw the Mazoku's familiar purple eyes peering at him from under the table.

He was too startled by the intensity of the touch for a moment to react, but when Xellos smiled at him faux innocently and started to stroke him Zel did the first thing that came to mind.

"Don't look at me with that innocent face, you bastard." He tossed the rest of his ale in the smirking Mazoku's face.

It didn't make Xellos remove his hand, but at least it wiped the damn smirk off his face. Truthfully, Zelgadis wasn't sure he wanted Xellos to stop touching him. Not anymore. Even if he didn't truly exist, he looked almost cute soaked in alcohol and pouting.

"What do you want, Xellos?"

"I was hoping to help you ring in the new year," he purred, leaving little question about how he intended to do so.

Zel couldn't repress a surge of lust. The priest's lips twitched, and those talented fingers tightened around him erotically. He grabbed Xellos' wrist, panting softly.

"Quit toying with me," he muttered, glancing around the crowded bar.

He was somewhat relieved that no one had noticed what Xellos was doing to him. Fortunately, no one seemed to be paying attention to his corner, but from what was going on in the rest of the bar, he doubted it'd be terribly out of place even if someone noticed.

When he looked back at Xellos, the Mazoku was smiling mischievously. "Oh, my. I had forgotten how shy you are. We'll have a private party."

Zel's vision blurred slightly as Xellos jerked him forward, and he found himself sitting on the bed of his rented room with the priest crouched in front of him. To his alarm, Xellos immediately started unhooking his belts, clearly determined to remove the fabric between them, easily avoiding his attempt to stop him.

The worst part of it was Zel didn't really know if it was worth fighting against it anymore. It might have been the alcohol talking, but whether Xellos was Mazoku or not, he couldn't deny that he'd been attracted to the bastard long before the groping incident.

When he stopped struggling, he was surprised when Xellos looked up at him apologetically.

"I know I should wait until you're sober, but I've been patient too long, Zelgadis-san. You may not truly want this, but…" The priest looked wistful for a moment. "You send far too many mixed messages."

Before Zelgadis could process that, the Mazoku leaned in, and all rational thought left him at the sensation of Xellos' mouth. Part of him knew he should be angry, but with a hot, wet tongue swirling around him, he couldn't figure out why. He twined his fingers in silky purple hair, moaning as Xellos pulled him deeper.

The pleasure pierced through the alcoholic haze, swirling higher and higher. The pressure increased and he clung to Xellos as the world tilted and spun around him.

When he regained awareness, Xellos was pressing him back against the bed, his clothing gone and his anatomy surprisingly human-like. His erection was standing at attention against Zel's hip, and the Mazoku's caresses made it clear that they weren't finished yet.

Zelgadis turned on his side and let Xellos press up behind him. The brief pain when the priest pressed into him was worth the pleasure that followed, the pressure of him thrusting hard and fast, wringing gasping moans from him.

Zel couldn't remember why he'd resisted this for so long. The Mazoku reached around and stroked him in time with the movements, and Zel felt his body tightening, seizing up. He couldn't repress a cry as his body seemed to explode in slow motion.

When Zelgadis regained his senses it was to the feeling of Xellos' caresses and the sound of cheering and music below in the bar, and he realized that they had, indeed, rung in the new year together.

And, from the way Xellos was touching him again, they would continue to do so for some time to come.

Happy 2011, everyone!

It all seems to come back to the Femille episode for me. At least, that's where most of the fucking tends to start. I've written at least four fics set in Femille or mentioning that episode.

This is yet another Kinkfest entry for the prompt:

Xelloss/Zelgadis: surprise!groping (possible sex? but not necessary) - "Don't speak to me with that innocent face."