I'll choke ya with yer fuckin' necktie and you'll like it

Mephisto/Shura

Rated T for coarse language

There was a way in which he swirled his wine glass, as if he was bored or something. Shura narrowed her eyes and downed her third glass of the stuff, something so dark it looked nearly black. There was a tart taste on her mouth and her throat burned. Naturally, Mephisto had barely taken in a sip. He just sat there, across from Shura, swirling his wine glass and pretending to be bored to death.

Then again, maybe he was. The man was impossible to read, and coming from Shura that was saying something.

"My my, you look petulant," he remarked finally with a pointed twirl of his glass. If he did that any harder he'd end up with wine all over his pretty white uniform.

"'Nd yer look bored," Shura retorted, taking another healthy gulp.

"You haven't attacked me yet," Mephisto remarked, setting his glass down on the small table between them.

"…What?" Shura repeated.

"Last time we did this, I thought you were going to cut me open," Mephisto explained, a weird smirk crawling across his face. "Quite a thrilling experience I must say,"

"'Thrilling'? Yer are crazy," Shura grumbled. "Who th' fuckin' hell likes gittin' attacked?"

"Oh being attacked is no fun," Mephisto shook his head. "Not in the slightest. But it is enjoyable to see someone such as you look at me with such murderous intent…"

Shura honestly wondered if he was drunk for a moment. No… she hadn't seen him take in any. So he was either flirting, spouting nonsense or just being an asshole.

Whatever it was, it pissed Shura off. The exorcist stood elegantly (even though her head spun just a bit) and poured herself another glass of wine, slowly walking over to Mephisto with a blank look on her face.

"Lemme tell ya this then," she remarked, giving her own glass a little swirl before dumping its contents on Mephisto's crisp, white, most likely dry clean only uniform. "Yer a fuckin' creep."

"My uniform!" Mephisto's cry of surprise caused a grin to spread on Shura's face. Hah. For once he was the one losing his composure. Serves the asshole right.

Shura's victory was short lived though. When she glanced at Mephisto she noticed a rather smug look on his face. "Well well, I never realized you wanted me out of my uniform so badly…"

"What?" Shura snorted, barely covering a giggle with her hand. "Why would I wanna see ya… that's kinda funny 'nd gross at the same time!"

"Well, since the idea amuses you so much… " Mephisto shrugged. "Ein-

"I take it back I don' wanna see." Shura's mirth faded almost instantly. She really hated it when that man (unexpectedly) would do that stupid poufy thing and suddenly peoples' clothes were all screwed around with. (Or gone)(He'd never actually done that though)(Yet)

"Zwei-"

"Dammit Pheles-"

"Drei!"

Shura pointedly turned away, catching a plume of pink smoke out of the corner of her eye but thankfully nothing else. But now she was in a predicament- if she turned to even glance at him, she'd be admitting some deep desire to see Mephisto naked and there was no way on earth Mephisto would give up the chance to rub it in.

And she was trapped in a room with a demon who could easily kill her even if she had her eyes on him.

"Aren't we proper?" Mephisto remarked. Shura could hear the smirk in his voice. Bastard…

" 'M a lady," Shura replied coolly, still keeping her gaze averted. Oh she wasn't going to lose this one. "'Sides, seein' ya naked 'll blind me."

"I generally tone it down for mortals," Mephisto replied, stepping closer to Shura. Shura took a step back, keeping a mild look of disgust on her face.

"How considerate of ya," Shura sneered, stepping back some more. She caught some movement out of the corner of her eye and took another step back. The back of her knee hit something and (with the aid of at least three glasses of fine wine) Shura lost her balance. Mephisto easily swung an arm around her waist and caught her, forcing her to look at him.

"Rather clumsy for-

"Fuck off. … Yer clothed!" Shura snapped, glaring at the gaudily-printed robe which sat jauntily on Mephisto's shoulders. The man's toothy grin widened.

"You sound so disappointed," he purred.

" 'M not," Shura grumbled. "Put me down."

"Come now, you've never once wondered-"

"Hell fuckin' no." Shura cut Mephisto off. As she did so her eyes happened to flicker down the opening of Mephisto's robe which revealed a healthy amount of pale chest.

"I think you're lying," Mephisto half-sang, pulling Shura closer as if they were doing some sort of dance. Shura made the mistake of staring up at Mephisto's smirking mug, glaring heatedly into those glinting eyes of his. "And there are those eyes again… such a nice shade…"

"Would you stop that?" Shura muttered, narrowing her eyes. They were close enough that she could pick out the yellow rim around Mephisto's slit pupils. He tipped his head to one side in a rather predatory manner and kissed her.

It started out polite (he always claimed to be a gentleman) but Mephisto's tongue had this tricky habit of slipping out and into Shura's mouth but retreating before Shura could bite it. She did nail his lower lip which only seemed to encourage the demon, prompting him to cup the back of her head and apply just the slightest of pressures, just a hint of encouragement. Naturally Shura had to retaliate; she was no stranger to kisses and was morbidly fascinated by how Mephisto's fangs felt against her tongue. By the time they broke apart Shura realized they'd straightened and she was no longer depending on him to hold her up. Still, her arms had somehow found their way around his shoulders. She didn't move them because Mephisto was still about an inch away from her face, his breath calm and even. Screw him.

"What kind of lip gloss was that? I couldn't tell," Mephisto asked casually.

"Peach," Shura retorted between gasps. "Looks like ya ate it all off,"

"It didn't taste like peaches, it tasted like sugar," Mephisto frowned slightly.

"Smells like peaches," Shura insisted.

"I wasn't sniffing your lips," Mephisto pointed out.

" 'M glad. Got that outta yer system?" Shura wanted to know. Mephisto dragged his hand from the back of Shura's head to the side of her face, tipping it up and kissing her throat. "Ay!" Shura protested, feeling sharp teeth nick her skin. "I've got class tomorrow!"

"Wear a scarf," Mephisto replied against her skin before resuming. Shura tightened her grip on his shoulders, trying in vain to suppress the shudder that rolled down her spine. Judging by how hard he was sucking, she'd have a lovely bruise by morning. Her heart kept hammering even after Mephisto pulled away and surveyed his handiwork with a smirk that made her stomach twist in something that wasn't quite anger. Oh she was mad alright, mad enough to cut his fucking throat open but if he started kissing her again she was going to jump him, demon or not.

"I fuckin' hate ya," Shura snapped.

"Good." Mephisto smiled cheerily, letting Shura go and stepping back. Shura put a hand to her neck, which felt hot where Mephisto's mouth was and ached. "Would you like to borrow one of my scarves?"

"Fer what?" Shura demanded.

"Your neck." Mephisto said simply. Shura grit her teeth and stormed out of the room, hot and cold and frustrated and tipsy.