Genre: AU, Angst
Warnings: mentions of blood play
Disclaimer: I own no one.
Summary: Sometimes our desires complicate things, and the lines of decency and self-control become intertwined.
I’m learning to hate, even though all I’ve ever wanted was to love you. This take and take game we play
endlessly-- wrapped in pretty words, shimmer and dipped in good intentions gone sour, yet still slipping from roughly abused lips as clinical as this blade sliding across shivering flesh. Greedy, greedily burning flesh that I ache to cover in weeping garnet if you ever stayed long enough for me to get what I want…for me to take for once.
I was here first. Words really aren’t my gift, that’s more your thing unfortunately--a silver tongue set just behind pretty lips capable of bringing any man to his knees-- you reeled me into your world of half-truths and omissions; I wrapped your thighs around me and dove in head first, writhing to our own depraved rhythm, soft whispers of “deeper, Zo, more” guiding my clumsy fingers slippery in to press just a little more, a little farther….always more. You never have known the meaning of moderation, when to walk away because you are as stubborn as I am and fuck if it doesn’t piss me off-- I shut you up the only way I know how, willingly handing you another piece of me to selfishly hoard away in exchange for a glittering bit of air that slips through my fingers.
When he first started hanging around, big curious eyes filled with stars and a head full of possibilities, you barely acknowledged his admiration--handing over glimpses of your shadow for him to chase after as insubstantial as those loser menthol's you puff away on--befriending him instead and exposing the filigree thread of decency buried under a puzzling confection of pride and foolishness. It’s one of many sins we share, this pride that drives us to murmur slimy-sweet words onto quivering lips just because we can, rewarding his fascination rather than turning him away from our haze of sluggish red--tabula rasa. A challenge, all too alluring for a sinner.
The first time he catches the slip slide of the blade through skin you pin him down to quiet his screaming. Red, red everywhere and he is confused, terrified of what this means--terrified of what we are and the tremors that wrack your body have nothing to do with the dying high when he walks away.
A.N: So this is my attempt at some Aki/Kenzo, but somehow Hiroto weaseled himself into the equation….seriously, I have no idea where he materialized from. But anyway, it was fun to write! I hope you all can make out my scribbling xD