Written on 3'srequest!

A short continuation of 'Death's closest'. I hope you liked it!

The song featuring in this story is 'The World Is Not Enough' sung by Garbage, written by D. Arnold, published by LYRICS©SONY/ATV MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC.

WARNING! EXPLICIT CONTENT, VIOLENCE AND GORE! RATED M FOR A REASON KIDDIES! SMUTTY AND VERY DARK IN THE END!

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"It has been done."

Glowing amber orbs met endless emerald eyes which showed such an array of emotion that the younger between them couldn't help but feel overwhelmed.

"You're doing it again," Stiles said and the owner of those ethereal eyes raised eyebrows making him smile. "Your eyes are glowingwith emotions."

"Ah!" thin, but oh so soft lips stretched into a small, mysterious smile. "I thought we concluded that you are the one to be blamed for that. After all, you are the one who made Death feel, Stiles."

Further conversation was stopped by the sound of soft paws hitting the floor and both turned to look at a huge black dog resembling a rottweiler, but with its jaw jutting out a bit more and two sharp fangs protruding upwards. A pair of glowing red eyes looked up at them and Stiles chuckled as he reached out with his hands to pat its head.

"You're back already, Reema?" Stiles kneeled as the hound rumbled low in its chest and nuzzled against the amber-eyed man's chest. "Who is next, Harry?" he looked at Death and the emerald-eyed man smirked and snapped his fingers. A slip of paper appeared in the air and floated around for a moment before Harry snatched it and turned it over to read what it said.

"Oh!" Stiles shivered and his lips dried when those eyes darkened and lips stretched into a dark smirk. "I have been waiting for this one." The voice which could make Stiles come just by whispering in his ear now sent a set of completely different shivers down his spine.

"Is it Grayback?"

Harry chuckled darkly and the slip of paper burned out in black flames.

"I think I should handle this one alone, Stiles."

Death's Closest frowned and patted Reema's head before he stood up and walked over to stand right in front of the slightly taller man.

"You know I don't like you doing anything alone; not now when I can truly follow you wherever you go without worrying about my family and friends. They are all in Heaven now. I am yours and yours alone."

Harry laughed quietly and placed his hands on Stiles' thin waist to pull him flat against his strong body. Stiles sighed as Harry's lips settled over his, and a wave of powerful energy washed over him awakening every nerve in his body.

"That does not mean I want you to see this, Stiles."

The younger man breathed out when Harry whispered against his lips and licked along the seam, strong, warm hands rubbing circles in his sides before they settled on his hips, pulling him flat against that strong, unyielding body.

"This is personal. He is the last remnant of my past. It will not be a pretty sight."

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I know how to hurt.
I know hot to heal.
I know what to show and what to conceal.

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"I am your Closest, my Lord," Stiles teased although there was a note of seriousness in his voice, and Death's Closest rubbed his hands up Harry's muscled stomach and chest before he cupped his Master's face between them and looked straight into those soul-searing eyes. "There is nothing you can do or say that will make me leave your side. Besides, like you've said – he is the last remnant of your past, the last remaining cause which made you into what you are today; the last cause to your consequence." A smirk stretched Stiles' lips and his eyes darkened. "I want to thank him."

Harry smiled and tilted his head to the side to place a kiss in the middle of Stiles' left palm.

Stiles gasped and shivered when Harry took a gentle hold of his left forearm as his littered kisses and nips down his palm and to his wrist, only to lightly bite into the vein he found there. Stiles' knees were already feeling week and his mouth went dry, yearning for those skillful lips and dexterous tongue to take every sane thought from him again.

"Harry-…"

"You have no idea what it does to me when you speak like that," Harry voice was a low, rumbling, slightly distorted purr, and a breathless whimper escaped Stiles' lips. Harry tugged on Stiles' arm and pulled him flat against his body again, dipping Stiles' head down to latch his lips on Stiles' neck, making the younger man tilt his head back, eyes slipping closed.

Reema rumbled and vanished, leaving the two alone.

"Harry…"

"Hush."

Stiles felt teeth nibbling on his left earlobe and a satisfied sigh escaped his lips.

"I waited to do this for years. I can be patient for a few more hours."

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I know when to talk
and I know when to touch;
no one ever died from wanting too much.

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Stiles shivered when his back touched a soft surface and his eyes opened, a breathless chuckle escaping his lips when he realized that they were in a big, spacious black room with a bed in the middle of it. In the fireplace across from them a fire was dancing to a light, lazy rhythm. He looked up and licked his lips when he saw Harry's eyes dilated with passion, desire, love and adoration. He raised his hands and cupped Harry's face, pulling him down into a slow, languid kiss.

Every nerve in his body ignited when he felt chilly hands push under his shirt and caress his over-sensitive skin. He pushed himself up a bit as Harry moved his shirt up. He flung it over his shoulder and Stiles felt as though those amazing eyes were devouring him. Harry leaned down slowly and teased Stiles' lips into a deep kiss with tender licks and nips. He rubbed Stiles' pert, dusky nipples with his thumbs as he kissed down his chin, while Stiles made an effort of unbuttoning Harry's long-sleeved, black, skin-tight shirt with trembling fingers.

No matter how many times he did this with either only Harry or Harry and Derek, he was always, always so apprehensive. With each button, more of that perfect pale skin was revealed, and Stiles felt as though his chest was filled with something heavy. He placed his hands on Harry's chest and inclined his hands upwards, pushing Harry's shirt off of his shoulders as he rubbed those flexing muscles with his fingers.

He was already painfully hard in his tight pants, but Harry seemed to be in no hurry as he kissed and nipped on Stiles' neck and shoulder.

"Harry?" he breathed out and Harry hummed distractedly as he moved lower, moving his hands to Stiles' waist as he covered his right nipple with his lips and teased it into hardness with his tongue and teeth, drawing a choked up moan from Stiles.

He felt Harry's hands crawl into his pants and his hips snapped up reflexively making Harry chuckle as he kissed down Stiles' stomach. Stiles hands fisted in the covers above his head when Harry mouthed his aching cock through the thin material of his boxers. It took incredible effort for him to stop himself from bucking up as Harry lazily pushed his pants to his knees and down his calves all the while pressing loving, open mouthed kisses on Stiles' hipbones, his still clothed cock and the inside of his thighs.

Once he tugged his pants off, Harry trailed his fingers up Stiles' calves, knees and thighs, and as he gazed up at Stiles' face, his eyes turned black with passion.

"H-Harry!" Stiles yelped and shivered when Harry sucked on the head of his cock through his boxers just as his fingers slipped under the waistband. Stiles threw his head back and mewled as Harry pulled his boxers over his aching cock, finally setting it free. "Harry, p – please, don't tease!" Death chuckled as he licked the underside of Stiles' cock while he tugged the last piece of clothing off of him. The boxers joined the rest of Stiles' clothes somewhere on the floor just as Harry mouthed the younger man's member, moaning at the taste.

He glanced up and his cock twitched in his trousers at the sight of Stiles' head thrown back in passion, his hair sticking to his forehead and lashes resting against blushing cheeks. His lips were parted and red, and choked up moans and straining gasps rolled off of them, creating the sweetest music in the world. His skin all but glowed in the light of the fire, and the dark red, silk sheets under him only enhanced his natural beauty.

Overcome with the feeling of humbleness, Death stopped his ministrations and slowly climbed over the younger man. Burning amber eyes opened, and Stiles took a deep breath before he looked in Harry's eyes.

"You stopped," he complained in confusion, and Harry smiled a loving smile. He bowed down and kissed Stiles lovingly, pouring every emotion Stiles brought into his heart; the heart he thought was no longer capable of feeling. Stiles gave him his heart, and Harry?

He would give Stiles the world.

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The world is not enough,
but it is such a perfect place to start, my love.

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"Please, don't stop?" the younger man mouthed against Harry's lips, his hands cupping Harry's cheeks as he slowly ground his pelvis against Harry's making a growl rumble in Death's chest. He bowed down and bit into Stiles' neck as he rubbed against him, his fingers fisted in the sheets on either sides of Stiles' shoulders.

Unable to find the satisfaction he so craved, Stiles concentrated on the Spark of Will Harry taught him how to use. He focused every single thought on the simple wish he had, and a surge of delight passed up his spine when Harry's clothes vanished into thin air. Death chuckled and raised his head a bit, his glimmering eyes meeting Stiles' dilated orbs.

"You were somewhat overdressed for the occasion, my Lord," Stiles drawled teasingly and Harry smirked as he crawled backwards. He settled between Stiles' parted legs and with a snap of his fingers a small, golden, intricately designed, round box the size of a man's fist, appeared in his right hand. The lid vanished and the scent of incense and rainforests filled the air. He glanced up at Stiles as he placed the box on the bed and dipped the fingers of his right hand into the warm oil inside it.

He kept his eyes locked onto Stiles' as he bowed down to lick the head of his cock, simultaneously moving his sleek fingers to Stiles' entrance. The younger man let go of a wavering breath, his head falling back against the bed as he felt Harry's thumb rub his entrance teasingly and his lips close around the head of his cock. He groaned and his torso arched up as Harry slowly took him in, at the same time pushing one sleek finger inside him.

It stopped hurting or being uncomfortable a long, long time ago. The only thing Stiles felt was pleasure; complete, almost unimaginable pleasure.

Harry knew just where to touch to make him lose his breath. He knew how to twist his fingers to make him twitch and moan. He knew when to lick or suck, how fast or slow to do so to bring him to the brink of an orgasm and keep him there, teetering on the edge, but unable to fall over.

Even in death Harry knew how to make him feel alive.

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People like us
know how to survive;
there's no point in living if you can't feel alive.

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For something as simple as loving him (for it was indeed surprisingly easy to love Harry), Death gave him the world. He gave him the opportunity to live forever, to always know where his loved ones were; to always be able to see them and talk to them. All he asked for was for Stiles to love him. He gave Stiles everything, and he kept giving him more.

The world was theirs for the taking.

"Harry!" Stiles cried out when the fingers inside him rubbed against his prostate. Harry huffed when he found himself on his back within a second, only to gasp when Stiles straddled him and leaned over him with his hands on Harry's chest.

"Don't forget that we have a beast to tame, my Lord," Stiles pressed out through his teeth as he positioned his trembling body. "We will have time for you to tease me later." He felt the tip of Harry's hot, hard dick against his loosened entrance and grinned down at Death before he took him in. He threw his head back with a choked up, victorious moan, and his heart clenched in his chest as Harry's gasp echoed around the dark space they were in. He looked down at Harry and swallowed at the sight.

It brought him more than just happiness; the knowledge that he was the only one who could make Death lose all composure. The fact that he was the only one that could make Death feel, that he was Death's undoing felt better than anything ever could.

Death's pale skin shone like white granite under the light of a pale, blue moon, his raven black hair looked like a halo of darkness, and only a thin rim of bright emerald could be seen around his dilated pupils. Death's fingers dug into the soft skin of Stiles' strong thighs with bruising force, stopping any further movement.

"You gave me the world, Harry," Stiles murmured and rubbed his hands up Harry's chest as he leaned forward. He loomed over him with his elbows on either side of Harry's head, and rested his forehead against Harry's, looking deep into the eyes of Death; the only creature in the world who could do so and survive. "Allow me to return in kind," he whispered against Harry's lips.

"You already gave me enough, Stiles," Harry's hands moved to take a firm hold of Stiles' ass, and the younger man gasped when Harry moved. "You already gave me more than enough."

The rhythm was relentless, borderline brutal, but it was perfect; it was absolutely perfect. Their breathless gasps mixed between their mouths, skin slid against skin, and their power snapped and danced around them.

Unable to form a coherent thought, much less press it beyond the building pile of emotions in his throat, Stiles could only gasp and moan and feel.

"Come for me, Stiles. Come for me," those words whispered against his right ear were Stiles' undoing, and out-worldly pleasure washed over his body, burned his soul, and engraved itself into the core of his very being.

Seconds later, another wave of warmth filled him, and he forced himself to open his eyes and take in the sight of his Lord and Master with his head thrown back, lips open in a silent scream and eyes full of light.

He rested his head on Harry's chest, enjoying the way Harry caressed his back in slow, tender, loving strokes. He tucked his head under Harry's chin and shivered after Harry kissed the top of his head.

"I must go," Death spoke gravely and Stiles sighed in slight disappointment. He groaned when Harry pulled out of him and slowly rolled them over to their sides. Harry leaned on his left elbow and looked down at Stiles with a small smile. "Do you still wish to go with me?" he asked and Stiles chuckled as he raised his left hand and caressed Harry's right cheek with the back of his fingers.

"I've left my past behind me, Harry," Stiles murmured, a small smile tugging on his lips at the memory of the good life he lead with his friends and family. "You were there for me when my dad passed. We were together when Derek passed as well. You were there for Scott and everyone. I will be there with you for the last piece of your past."

Harry smiled and leaned down to kiss Stiles' forehead. "You already gave me everything anyone could ever wish for, Stiles," he said and Stiles smiled as he licked his lips.

"And you gave me the world, Harry. I think we're more than even."

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Come on, then." He stood up and tight black clothes materialized on his muscled, beautiful body.

Stiles hummed in slight disappointment but stood up and willed some trousers and a light, black t-shirt to clothe his body, and a comfortable pair of sneakers to appear on his feet. He looked at Harry when he felt a shiver of power in the air and the room they were in disappeared into darkness.

He approached Harry and leaned into his embrace when Harry wrapped his left arm around his waist. With threatening howls at least 10 Hell Hounds with blood-thirst in their red eyes appeared around them. Reema took a step forward and looked at Harry.

"It is time."

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We know when to kiss
and we know when to kill.
If we can't have it all,
then nobody will.

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Pain filled screams echoed through the set of underground caves followed by rage-full growls and threatening roars. The sound of snapping bones and tearing skin bounced off of the stone walls.

In the back stood Death, staring with cold eyes at the scene of his Hounds tearing Fenrir Grayback apart.

"Feast, my little ones," he murmured.

A shiver ran down Death's spine when a loving hand settled between his shoulder-blades and he looked over his right shoulder at his Closest.

Amber eyes stared with morbid fascination at the scene in front of them, and Death felt something shift in the pit of his stomach when he saw his eternal lover lick full, cupid-bow lips.

"He will suffer forever," Death spoke in a tone heavy with finality. "By reliving his death over and over for all eternity, he will pay for all the lives he took and ruined."

Stiles swallowed and leaned on Harry. "I would say I pity those who anger you," he looked in Harry's eyes and shook his head, "but they deserve it. They all deserve it."

Harry hummed and bowed down to kiss Stiles lightly. He heard the last choked up breath Fenrir took, choking on his own blood, and felt as though a mountain fell off of his back.

"Let's go, love. We are done here."

Darkness swallowed them and they left the last piece of their past behind.

From that moment on they would move forward side by side, Death and his Closest, his Consort, forever to deliver Justice to both the dead and the living.

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I hope you liked it!

It's not exactly what I had in mind when I started writing this, but – meeeh! I like it!

Tell me if you do too!

All my love,

Ms. Yuki