In Season

Either something was missing or he was losing his touch. It wasn't anything he could fix then, though, so he huffed and began cleaning until Mephisto snagged the back of his shirt and hauled him away.

"What have I told you, Rin?" Mephisto said over his yelp.

"Leave it to er-Bel-Bali–that guy," Rin finished with a sigh and ignored Mephisto's raised brow to readjust himself before attempting to finish his breakfast.

Later, Rin found himself alone.

The shower ran hot around Rin but he barely felt it, breathing in the humid air and eyes sightless.

He'd just gone through one of the most confusing weeks of his life, survived it somehow, only to begin another just as bad.

A rut. The word was something Rin hadn't even known the definition of before Mephisto had explained it.

Amaimon had looked excited by the prospect of Rin's rut, and initially, he had too, having come to enjoy the strange company he'd fallen into.

Now, though, after he'd been left to his own devices for the night, a sense of unease wouldn't leave him alone.

Where the heat had consumed his body, set it on fire until he burned it out on any demon his instincts deemed "strong enough" the mind frame his rut put him in was more subtle. It had swept in like a shadow, telling him to hunt down Amaimon and take from him until he'd been satisfied.

Maybe, Rin thought as he watched the individual droplets of water on the tiles, he would go find Amaimon now and see if he could offer any more insight.

A twist of his hand shut the shower off, and a thought sent his flames welling to dry him, one of the more convenient uses of his abilities he'd discovered.

Then Rin dressed in the robe Mephisto had given him, a new one after the last had been destroyed during his heat, and went to go hunt for Amaimon. Not that it would be much of a hunt when he could scent him easily. Could feel the tether between them.

The trail Amaimon had left took Rin to Mephisto's room, finding it dark when he entered.

His bare feet padded over the carpet and Rin registered the feeling absently as he caught sight of Amaimon curled within the mounds of blankets on Mephisto's bed.

Sleeping.

Not for long, though.

Rin cocked his head and approached another step, wondering when Amaimon would wake, when he would notice.

Blinking, Rin found himself standing over Amaimon, his shadow lost in the already dark room.

Claws had appeared on his hand he noted when he reached out, fingers splayed where they closed the distance to the soft skin of Amaimon's cheek.

"Rin," Amaimon said, his eyes gleaming gold from shuttered lids. He'd woken.

He gagged a second letter when Rin closed his hand in a fist to his throat, pressing him back to the soft mattress until it nearly swallowed him and ignoring the grip Amaimon brought to his wrists, the way he struggled beneath his body where he'd settled.

"I don't understand this, Amaimon," Rin said over the wheezing breaths.

"When do I know it's starting?" He tightened his fist, watching beneath his bangs as Amaimon arched and scrabbled at him, bright flashes of pain etching themselves into his skin with every slash of claws.

That was good. He liked when Amaimon put up a fight.

Purring, Rin leaned forward, releasing Amaimon just so he could force a tongue into his mouth. Fangs sunk in viciously and severed it to the last thread.