Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't claim to, don't sue me.
Rating: R, for violent sex implications
Category: Lime, angst... and angst, I guess. I really need to start writing some sap.
Pairings: Well, this happens to be the DHML, so I would believe 1x2 (surprised you, didn't I?)
Notes: Er... I don't know, I was just listening to a Blink 182 CD (strange, I don't know *how* the *hell* their music could inspire me to write yaoi fics... I dunno, I guess I'm just weird) and heard something like "I'm just sick of playing your games" or something like that. Yep. It was a long car drive from New Jersey. Not to mention my tailbone's acting up. *rubs ass* Man... I really need to get better at snowboarding.
And I'm listening to Adam's Song far too much... Oh yeah, a bastardization of Duo attempt. God knows I hate those bastardized Heero's and soppy Duo's. By the way, if someone already made a fic like this, sorry! This fic was purely incidental. Er. Minus the Blink inspiration. But really, I'm not copying anyone. *sighs* One of Niki's few moments of originality.
Bwah. Duo's POV.
Archive: What? You crazy? Well, sure, with permission of course ^__^. And massive glomping for you.
Feedback: Throw sticks over at email@example.com or just post a reply dangit!
Breaking the Rules
I'm lying on the soiled sheets of our bed, alone once again, sated and exhausted from our dirty deed. The scent of too recent sex that linger in our tiny white bedroom invades my nostrils... the scent of sweat and blood mingled together. The scent of the need to escape and pleasure oneself, and I'm the one to fall victim to the user. Or so assumed to be.
But in the end, things will change and I will be the victor of this wicked game... as always.
I dip my fingers inside the cleft of my ass, only to be slickened by the blood of my torn hole. I bring the crimson-covered fingers to my face as a satisfied smile creep up to my lips. His unstoppable need to claim me over and over again has rushed the sex and permitted no foreplay. His entry had been too fast, too violent, and the following actions were not at all more gentle. He has ripped me inside and out again, but in the end, I will break him as he is breaking me.
He's like the others. He has no use of me except for missions and a temporary escape. I am no more than a sex toy to him like I am no more than a goddamn pretty boy slut to the world. There's no emotional attachment in our relationship, and there will never be any tender care.
I never experienced love. God, yes, I've tried with the previous relationships, but I soon found out that they were only there to fuck me to the kingdom come. True love was never meant to reside in this world--once they finally get tired of fucking you and want some new pretty thing to screw, they leave you alone, cold, and ashamed in the dark to pick up yourself off the floor. I've learned that well enough.
But I'm playing by their game now. I'll let them use me for now, but my shame and self-hate will be theirs soon also.
He won't be any different from the others I've claimed.
I finally rise from the bed, snatching the bloody sheets as I go. I wince as my feet touch the floor and my sore ass rub against the rough fabric of the sheets. I walk down the cold and empty hallways stark naked, intending to get the dirty evidence cleaned and renewed, only to be soiled by his seed and my blood again.
Heero should be back from his mission any time now.
I'm sitting on our bed again, except with clean sheets, waiting for Heero to return, and for the gratuitous sex to replay. Nothing unusual. I yank open the drawer or the flimsy nightstand beside me, and pluck out a cigarette. I light it and take a long drag, allowing the smoke to cloud all the senses I have left, leaving a deception of esctasy. It feels good, too good in fact. It's a cheap escape, each puff granting me only a brief moment of heaven, overlying all the contempt I bear, if only for a second. I smirk. That's probably how Heero feels in the middle of fucking me.
The door creaks open, and I crush the cigarette stub in the ash tray besides me. Heero walks in, not even bothering to glance at me. He immediately goes to the laptop and begins to type, a mission report, no doubt. Well, well, have to fix that. First thing should be me, na? Or rather, fucking me. I saunter over to where he's sitting and drape my arms around him in a loose embrace, one hand sliding into his tank top while the other playing with his ear. I lean forward, my chest barely touching his skin, and breathe into his ear, "Well, what are you waiting for?" I soon realize that he's trembling. Unnecessary slaughter of innocents must've slipped into that mission. Another reason he'll use me as an escape again. To escape from this god forsaken war.
"C'mon lover, I'll make you feel better," I whisper, my voice husky. I feel a pang of self-betrayal and loathing against myself, but I continue on. "You know you want to."
This scene. How repulsing. I'm offering to be Heero's personal whore. What point was there to use the endearing term "lover" anyway? There was no love in what we were about to do. Making love was a fancy beyond my reach. I'm only mocking myself.
Heero's breathing faster, his eyes glazened over with lust now, rather than the wounded eyes I hate to look at.
If I ever do stare back while his Prussian eyes are exposed, then I'll fall into a trap and shatter myself, possibly indefinitely.
I can't afford to feel anything now.
Abruptly, he stands up and shoves me to our bed... my deathbed. I don't know why I even bother changing the sheets--they always end up disgraced in the end. Before, I dismissed those sheets as nothing, ignoring them, soiled or not; now I see how tainted they will become.
How tainted I am.
It's disgusting, I can feel my stomach lurch each time I invite Heero to fuck me over and over again. I encourage him, "I know you want me...take me...make me scream..." With ease, I plow on and supress the tears in my voice. I can't let him see how badly smashed my wings are; if I do, then I'll never gain my control over him. I'll never use him as he is using me, and I would lose the chance to make him vulnerable, unsure of what he really wants.
And I'll lose to my own game.
Heero snatches my chin and claims my lips in a kiss. To hell with all that stereotypical sweet flowery shit, the kisses we share were always devoid of any type of affection. They were crude acts of hardly repressed desire, our lips pressing with bruising force and our teeth nipping at each other. As our tongues duel, he bites down on my lower lip right before we break away. Blood dribbles down my chin as I plaster on a smug smirk without struggle. Damn, I've really mastered this.
Knowing that, I can't quell the disgust that boils at myself.
He ruthlessly tears off my clothes, leaving naked and glistening with sweat, without a thread of dignity. I slide up the bed, beyond Heero's grasp, and spread open my legs, whispering again, "Take me." He says nothing, but his actions speak enough. Heero quickly divests himself of clothes, but the seconds felt like a lifetime to me. I conceal the shame that burns within me, flinging my head back as he plunges into me, owning me over and over again. I scream, just what I promised, and close my eyes, trying to block the searing pain. Again, his impalement was far to quick--I can feel the blood trickling from my body. I can feel the humiliation flare into an inferno... Redemption will never be mine this way, my soul deserves to burn in the fires of Hell.
But this way is the only clear path in my life. To prove myself--to fight back.
Acknowledging that, a boy locked up in the back of my head whimpers pathetically.
A boy that should have perished along with my soul years ago.
~To be continued~
Er. Feedback please? I have no idea if this should go on. You know, one of those spontaneous thingies. ^^