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Kindred Spirits Complete	By : RedelliaValentinos Category: +1 through F > Danny Phantom Views: 507 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, I don't own any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story, I write this purely for the enjoyment of writing. It's just me and a keyboard and my wild brain.

Chapter List
- 51
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- 53
"If he already knows, then... I guess..." and then it hits him suddenly...
'They flipped a coin for my...on me. They actually flipped a fucking coin... Like a game. Like I'm a freaking prize.'
'Be mad later,' echoes through his head.
'What?!' "Why?" Danny asks softly as he looks away.
Plasmius raises a brow as it can see that the question is not directed towards it.
'Disclosure. We know now and not later.'
'That's...true... I guess...' "But..."
'We both know the shower is a waste of time.'
'...play now...'
'Get mad later.'
'Get mad later.'
It's strange to feel it nod in his head. Stranger still to hear it talk. Especially when it rarely speaks, and no more than a few words at a time, more so when he considers the fact that it has no mouth for conveyance. But to hear it speak, say more than two words, speak in a full sentence, try to give him an order, and then for them to speak in unison, well... It's given its own two cents before, but never like this. So Danny just reminds himself that they have to share the same head. They can work it out later.
"Maybe..." Danny looks up and places a shaking hand into the gargoyle's, "Maybe a little bit won't hurt."
Plasmius pulls him in just as his knees start to buckle. It guides him down carefully, mindful of the addled state it put him in. The onslaught of excitement has weakened him somewhat, making it easier for Plasmius to bring him down to the floor and into his lap. Facing the book shelf, backs turned towards the couch Danny is hyper aware of Vlad snoozing away on.
It's actually...mildly thrilling, having him right there, so close by.
'Need to keep my voice down!'
And at the same time, his stomach flips a little awkwardly because whatever it is that'll happen, he'll only be doing it with half of Vlad.
Plasmius lets him ease into a comfortable position, having him lean against his torso to stay upright. The veritable wall of burning core energy seeps into Danny's back and he shudders at the feeling. His own core finally starts to spin smoothly and release a steady flow of cooling air into his bones. Which is honestly a good thing when he considers how nice the position is. How nice it is to be surrounded by the warmth.
Yes, Danny runs cold. If he took his temperature, the number the thermometer would produce would be considered hypothermic by human standards. And though he's fine in his own skin, fine with the cold and barely even notices it, he's constantly aware of the difference between himself and everything around him. And sometimes, he wants to warm up. So as far as he's concerned, having a nearly nine foot space heater is a major plus.
"Comfortable?" the gargoyle asks.
Danny swallows and gives a tiny nod. He doesn't know what to expect, though his imagination can certainly run wild with ideas.
"Good. Now," warm fingers stroke his cheek bones, "Just feel."
...Danny thought the gargoyle might just go right for it. Which he really wouldn't have minded when he considers how hot under the collar he's gotten just from the conversation. And now that it's all he can focus on, he can feel how hard he's gotten. But Plasmius doesn't just dive into the deep end, so to speak.
Those warm appendages grace his face gently. Slowly. Pulling the tension from his jaw and soothing him. Small circles, light pressure, light contact. Ghosting his flushed skin. The difference in their flesh is made clear. Danny, cold and supple but reasonably dead. Plasmius, magma warm, polished granite and somehow living.
Steam should hiss as the touches drift down. But his surface temperature has climbed just enough to prevent it.
Plasmius traces the lines of his throat, forcing him to tilt his head back slightly. Easing over his trachea, dragging nails past his carotid and jugular and working its thumbs into the nape of his neck. The sensations begin to crackle sporadically, in minor little bursts of pink and red sparks. Reflexively, Danny jerks at the touch. It's a mild surprise that hints at the potential for a different kind of play. The kind he's been craving for a while. And so desperate is he to have that fantasy lived that he doesn't pull away from the contact.
He can control how his body jerks only just so much. But he makes a decision to not protest. He chooses not to worry.
The pops of energy audibly snap like static. Plasmius runs its hands down his bare arms, shedding electricity as it goes and Danny sighs and clicks and startles with each sharp burst. It's only his arms. But as the gargoyle pulls his hands back and traps his fingers in a teal stained hold, it feels like a full-body sensation. It tingles and rings his nerves in strange ways, each one blessedly welcome.
A low and rumbling purr rattles Danny's skull while he leans into the gargoyle's torso. His hands are released and the warmed stone of Plasmius' hands travels back up his arms and then down to nudge their way under his shirt. Danny jerks backwards, into that warm chest as the jolts scatter across his own torso. Zapping nerves and bones and then an entire palm runs over his left nipple with a charge much higher than the rest. His spine arches at the power and his jaw hangs open in a silent cry to the ceiling above. It's a reaction that catches the demon's attention.
"Tell me, my little невеста," it whispers into his ear, "how do you play?"
The hand on his chest strays upwards and wraps around his neck. The other proceeds to fidget incessantly with the waistband of his leggings. Not dipping in, not dipping down, not progressing. Just lingering there to taunt him.
"What gets you there? What do you need to be undone?"
"I..."
"Well?"
"I don't..." To discuss something so personal, just spew it out into the open air... Danny feels his vocal chords seize at the idea.
"What parts of you draw your voice out?" Plasmius tilts his head to the side and nips at a faintly pointed cherry red earlobe. Breaking the skin easily, it licks at a lazy drop of blood thick like molasses, just as the wound heals over. It earns the beast a shudder, but little else.
Huffing a small sigh, "I want music, little невеста. Let me hear you."
It sounds frustrated with him. Thrilled that he's so responsive, but annoyed that he's biting his tongue. Danny supposes he can understand that, coming from Plasmius' point of view. But his mind reels backwards at the idea of making that kind of noise with Vlad right there. Supposedly, the man knows. Supposedly, Vlad even agreed to Plasmius getting the first serving. But he can't be sure. He can't trust his luck. What if the beast is lying to him? What if Vlad really doesn't know? Or didn't actually agree?
It's not like Danny was there for what could be entirely imaginary conversations. The last thing he wants to do is start a fight between them.
As such, even though he wants to let it out, he can't bring himself to. And he indicates as best as he can by shaking his head. He even finds the strength to lift a shaking hand and gesture behind them. To the couch.
"Oh, is that what you're worried about?"
Danny gulps and nods.To which, Plasmius gives an ominous chuckle. The hand on his neck slides over his mouth while the hand at his waistband strays those last few blessed inches southward and into his pants. And, for a moment, Danny is torn between practically celebrating at the incoming touch and cursing the demon for disregarding his concerns. That is, until heat, pure and stone and fired to life by the curse of their state of being wraps around him and pulls him free.
Danny's hips buck before he can stop himself, rutting into the searing grip. He can feel Plasmius' hand becoming drenched with his production and it eases his movements. His cold to Plasmius' warmth, the thermal shock pains as much the movements please. After spending several minutes being shocked electrically, working himself in and out of the gargoyle's grasp almost seems ideal. ...almost.
The sound of flesh and slick is all the gargoyle hears at first. Eventually, though muffled slightly by its hand, nasal huffs of air morph to short whines. Then to long whines. Then they begin to climb in volume. Plasmius holds him as sweat begins to form on his brow. And it listens while nipping harmlessly at the shell of his reddened ear.
But it quickly becomes apparent that something is wrong. Minutes pass as the youth chases the sensations for release. But the excited mewls shrivel to pathetic whimpers and tears streak freely from his eyes.
"Either you have remarkable endurance, which I doubt, or there's something else you need."
In an attempt to assist, based on how he'd responded to the wind-up, Plasmius gathers a charge in its palm and releases it.
"Mph!" Pale fingers claw at the demon's arm, tearing the fabric of the sleeve in obvious protest and drawing ectoplasmic blood.
The gouging wounds hurt enough that Plasmius stops the jolts. The smaller body in its hold slumps like a rock. The palm covering Danny's mouth pulls away, allowing him to breathe properly. Plasmius strokes him gently and roughly, alternates between fast and slow, base to tip and back, firm and soft. But nothing works.
"What is it you need, pet?" It takes one of Danny's shaking hands and guides it, "Show me."
So frustrated and so tired of getting nowhere, and so unbelievably sore, he just caves in to his needs. He presses a single finger into his urethra, gentle, shallow. His head slams into the chest behind him, his eyes roll back and everything goes white.
...the world drawls its way back in slowly. Quiet, faint conversation trickles in over the crackling of the fire place. Flickering light crosses over his eyelids. Woven strands rub against the pads of his fingers and there's a gathering of warmth beneath his head.
He's drained. Tender in certain places. His skin still prickles with phantom shocks. But, he's also rested and well spent.
"Is that the only means by which you can find release?"
Danny's eyes snap open and he bolts upright, taking his head off of Plasmius' warm leg to find himself under a knitted blanket. His clothing feels different, looking down reveals an oversized white t-shirt and loose pair of black sweatpants. Which means Vlad woke up.
'Can I die of embarrassment now?'
'Can you die?'
"I asked you a question."
Turning his eyes up to the beast, blushing pink because he still uses oxygen, Danny blinks before looking away in shame.
"It's the only thing that works," he mutters.
"What else have you tried?"
Danny shrugs. "What else is there?"
"Oh, dear pet," Danny finds himself pulled into a warm embrace, "there's plenty to try! Some of it in the state you exist in now! And so much more if you should put your spell to use!"
Danny squeaks in the hold, nervous of the contact. Stiffening like a log and content to not move, lest he be tempted into a second round before he's ready.
The chain jingles lightly as Vlad comes into view holding two glasses of cold water. Danny sees him and looks away as quickly as he can, unwilling to make eye contact while red in the face. One glass appears in front of his nose and he hesitates.
"Half dead or not," Vlad says, "dehydration is still a possibility."
Danny takes the glass and pulls free from the gargoyle's hold to drink it. Actively choosing to not make eye contact with either one of them. Plasmius, because it felt fucking great and now he wants more despite the bumpy start, and Vlad, because he was right there and woke up.
Vlad watches him drink, wanting to make sure he gets as much fluid into the youth as he can.
When he's through the contents, Vlad takes the glass away and hands him the other. The younger halfa gulps it down as quick as he can and hands it back. Just as Vlad wraps his fingers around it, that little fit he's been meaning to have bubbles to the surface. He waits until the dishware is put down before he swings his fist out and connects with the man's shin, dropping him to the floor like the dead weight they are.
"What was that for?!" Vlad barks. He peels the leg of his pants up to see a bruise the size of the boy's fist. Plasmius rubs at its own leg with quiet growls of equal displeasure.
"For flipping a coin on me."
"You would rather we be at each-other's throats?" the demon snips.
Danny sighs and rubs at his forehead. "I'd rather you talk to me and not trick me. Everyone seems really big on talking, lately. Between you two and me and...whatever my thing is, just ask me, first. Okay? Be honest with me."
The gargoyle purrs and looks back to its human half, "Well, If we're going to go down that road..."
Danny's eyes narrow in confusion and he looks at each of them, "...what?"
"...I was never asleep."
"You-!" Danny lunges for him, nails growing long and sharp and skin red from head to tail tip. Vlad jumps back in surprise. Having the sense to share as little pain as possible is a powerful instinct and Plasmius grabs him from behind to hold him back. Danny screeches and snarls in its hold, fangs bared in a meager attempt to mask his shame. His tail flicks against the carpet, tapping muffled thumps into the floor while he tries to pry himself free of the bulkier arms wrapped around his midsection.
Vlad, breathing in relief, briefly glances at his other half and gives a small nod of thanks.
"You need a leash," Plasmius muses.
Danny's nails sink into its wrists as he looks back at it, "Then you don't need your hands."
"So, voyeurism is out, then?" asks the demon.
"Yeah. Take part or take a hike. I'm not a puppy in a window," Danny bites.
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Kindred Spirits Complete