And now fanfic. Because I like to post it (revising it as I do so, always) and because I usually have not much else to put in this LJ. ^^;;
Part Second: To Dominate
Oh god I couldn’t help it. I honestly hadn’t meant to take things so far… only to… to… I don’t even know anymore. He was always just… just… staring. I wanted him to do something about it. But… all he ever did was watch and watch and watch. I don’t love Tet-chan… not like he should be loved, has to be loved. I can’t do this. I can’t do this I can’t do this I can’t do this… do this...
But gods, the feeling of him writhing like that...! The feel of his obvious erection pressed up hard against my leg, the taste of that slick saltiness of sweat on his skin—-it was irresistible in a way I could never imagine. It was like tenderness had never existed, and all there was left was hunger. It was suddenly impossible to let him go.
It took every last bit of willpower I had to look up at him, see if he wanted this as much as he’d let on and I saw the most raw desire I’d ever seen of something he’d wanted for years—-gods had it actually been years?-—and which I had never had the audacity to give him. It was like in a split second I knew I didn’t need anything else to tell me just how much Tet-chan wanted me with finish what I’d begun…
I bit down into the skin, down into the flesh underneath. He writhed, shuddering against me, so that I had to be careful not to break the skin. The way he was moaning was near enough to drive me mad, and when he whispered so softly, so hoarsely, “Do it…!”
Oh gods. It was the only thing he could do to making me lose that one edge of control entirely. That he wouldn’t be able to handle it, that he would be, at the last, against it happening--it wouldn't happen now. I bit down hard and I held on as he groaned, thrashing. When I pulled away, there was a perfect imprint of my teeth left haloing his nipple, several of the dents left behind already filling with blood. I couldn’t help it—-perhaps all those years of wanting to be a vampire, all those horror novels had had a bad effect on me—-I went down and I lapped at it, the sweet, metallic taste of his blood in my mouth, making him wince, making him moan.
I released his hands and I allowed him to let them wander over me, touching me, grabbing at the shirt I wore loosely from my shoulders and pulling it off me. And I kissed him. He responded, kissing me back as if trying to climb inside me through my mouth, his hands scrabbling at my back, learning me, learning my every line, shape, scar… and he did it all because I let him. The power of knowing that thrummed in me, knowing that if I struck him, told him to stop, he would. Everything, anything…
His need was so strong. My need was so strong. Too strong, unbearably so. I couldn’t leave the bed. I couldn’t say “That’s enough; we’re going too far…!” I wasn’t strong enough to pull my senses away from what was happening, the pants, the moans, not all of them entirely his.
With shaking hands I slipped them between our pressed bodies, yanked and fumbled with his pants, finally undoing them and yanking at them down, off his hips which he bucked upwards as if to assist me, only succeeding in pressing his erection harder up against me, and mine in him. I grasped them, pulled them down and threw them off the bed without ever breaking contact with him. His boxers followed suit moments later as Tet-chan groaned beneath me, running hands through my hair, panting as he laid kisses along my neck, along the old, old scar that had been there for most of my life and would stay there for the rest of it.
My groin hurt. It was a combination of both the pain of my arousal, as well as the hell that was tight leather pants. I would surprise myself if I ever had children. Gods. It sure as hell didn’t feel likely.
He pressed his teeth into my neck, gently, not even leaving a dent in the skin, but he worked at it, licking and sucking at the spot. Marking me. Making me his.
No. He was mine. Not the other way around. Mine. I couldn’t stop myself, wanted to bite, sinking teeth into that firm, salty flesh of his, wanted to feed on his lust, his desire. I growled, jerking myself away from him, away from his mouth, his tongue. I fumbled with the front of my pants, frenzied in my need to touch him, feel him, flesh on my flesh with nothing between us. I wanted it, needed it, and could barely concentrate on my hands as I worked at undoing them, struggling to pull them down, off my legs, off me.
It seemed like forever before I finally kicked them off, not caring if they were inside out or if they had flown clear across the room and were hanging haphazardly off one side of the mirror. I went down against him, catching his lips in another kiss, wanting more, more damn it! I hadn’t known it was possible to be so hungry to touch another person, take him, feel him writhe under me. I broke the kiss, tracking a trail of hard, bruising kisses, biting, sucking his tender flesh. I paused at his navel, dipping my tongue in for the briefest of moments, making him gasp and squirm, even as I bit down hard, giving him a ring of teeth around to match his nipple. I grasped both his arms with my hands in reluctant frustration, not wanting his hands to stop their heated journey along my body, touching, feeling, caressing, but unable to allow him to keep moving like that otherwise we’d before finished before we’d even began.
And I was not going to let him toy with me.
I continued lower, making him gasp as his dazed mind finally realized exactly what I was going to do…
I allowed myself a brief twist of my lips into an evil smirk up in his direction. Then his cock was mine, as I worked at him with lips and tongue, making him groan and thrash about wildly beneath me, which I stayed some by pressing my weight on his arms. He’d have bruises by the end of tonight. Neither of us cared overmuch at this point, for obvious reasons.
Even in the middle of his mixed growls, moans and general outcries of myriad pleasure/pain noises, he still had the ability to formulate words. I vaguely wondered in the back of my head whether this was a reflection on his willpower, or my performance.
I dearly hoped it was the former, rather than the latter. Would be a bit of a blow to my ego.
Then I realized exactly he was saying, and I couldn’t suppress the grin that passed over my face, even as I sucked, hard, tasting, touching. He was mine. Oh god, he was mine. I wouldn’t let him go now—not for anyone.
“Oh god, more. Please, more.”
He could handle more then? I’d laid his chest bloody; I could do the same to this valuable piece of flesh… but no. My tastes are not to that extreme. Neither, I assumed, was his…
Still… if he wanted more—
I allowed my teeth to scrape up along that tender, sensitive flesh, and I listened as he moaned, loudly. Oh yes he wanted this. I’d let go of his arms now, keeping them now on his hips, keeping his hips from bucking up. I was going to make it last, damn it. Oh god, the taste of him, the smell of him… the feel of him! Oh god I want him. I don’t think I’d ever wanted something so much than right now. Nothing I did could satisfy me now, not like this. My reality would not be enough, not without the taste, the feel of him that made me want to explode. I want it. I want all of this to keep on going. I couldn’t let it stop, I couldn’t let it stop.
So I kept going as his hands came up to tangle in my hair, gripping so hard it nearly hurt, but not enough for me to pull away and make him move them away. Everything was spiced well with a touch of pain after all…
I could feel it when he couldn’t force himself to obey me and hold still anymore… when he finally lost that small edge of control and bucked up wildly against my mouth and this time I didn’t try and stop him, letting my hands slide down the flesh of his buttocks, slick with sweat, gripping hard as I pulled him up against me, up off the bed, and worked at him, leaving him gasping—if he still had the capacity to breathe. I couldn’t hear, my mind, my mouth, my hands were all full of thrusting, moving flesh… the taste of salt, sweat… and suddenly, the bitter, blinding taste of his release.
He screamed. It wasn’t high-pitched like any woman I had ever had such… liaisons with. It wasn’t a yell either. It was one long, ragged exclamation as Tetsu’s roughened fingers gripped the base of my neck, crushing my face down against the long line of his body, not allowing me the choice of either spitting or swallowing.
It was not a question that needed to be asked either. The thick liquid slid down my throat, leaving the slightly bitter taste in my mouth. I could not swallow fast enough—it spilled over, slipped through the corner of my mouth and ran down to my chin. A thread of disgust slid through my thoughts, but that was quickly pushed aside when he jerked me up, strength in those arms of his that I had never known before, until I was on top of him, my own arousal ground hard against his lower belly and my lips crushing his.
He hissed as I came in contact with the bite marks on his chest, but not unpleasantly so… and it brought another growl to my throat; pleasure at the sound of his pain. I shifted upwards, bracing my weight on my arms, looking down at him.
“My turn.” I told him, smirk growing on my lips as he looked up, still breathless at me, his body still heaving, even after he was spent. I pushed backwards—I was kneeling over him. I must’ve looked a sight—hot, sweaty, hair a mess, and the evidence of his orgasm drying on my face. Most likely, if anyone had walked in at that moment, they would find me in no way attractive.
But Tetsu was looking up at me with such heat in his face, eyes… that it didn’t matter. For this one moment, it didn’t matter how messed up I looked. I was one sexy bastard. And I was going to fuck him hard, fast and long, down into that bed… and I was going to make him beg for mercy.
I followed the same trail I had tracked down his chest with my tongue earlier again, this time, ringing his other nipple with a near-identical mark with my teeth to match his others. Not caring to stop to lick at this new wound I had opened, I continued moving, smearing the blood that ran in my sweat-soaked hair, and down his chest in thin, nearly-invisible trails.
As I worked at his bleeding chest, I ran my hands down his legs, gripped them firmly, hard enough to bruise if I pressed just a little bit more, roughly shoving them upwards, nearly levitating him off the bed, though my mouth and my tongue lathering his skin with kisses and my own saliva kept this from happening as he stayed pliant—easy to pose as a doll.
A sane thought at last in all the hot, sick fantasies of my mind. No lube. I’d walked in here meaning to yell at him, possibly end up in a childish fistfight with this friend of mine over an argument that had been blown out of proportion, not seduce and fuck him silly.
I wasn’t about to ask him. Nor was I just going to stop and go hunting for something, anything. Because the minute I left, my head, my thoughts would clear, and I was not going to lose a perfectly good fuck that he’d wanted—-that I’d wanted—-for such a long time because of… morals. I spat into my hand. If I couldn’t get anything else, I’d work with what I have. I smeared my saliva onto my own cock. It would have to do.
Tet-chan liked it rough. I’d just see how far I could go without hurting him more than he could be hurt.
I thrust into him like that, not stopping until I’d drawn a line of white fire through him, made him cry out. I didn’t stop until I’d buried myself fully inside him, and I knew how rough I was being without lube of any sort. That was the only thing that made me pause, and allow him a moment to breathe, gasp with the pain, let it fade for just a moment.
Then I withdrew, and he gasped again, scrabbling at the edges of the bed struggling to find something to hold onto. He caught the very edges of the mattress, fisted them as best as he could with those talented fingers of his and held on as I built up a steady rhythm of my own, playing him as he would his own instrument. I couldn’t help it. I moaned too as the background sounds around us evaporated. All that was left was our own heavy breathing, the smack of flesh against flesh, and the little moan-whimpers he made every time I thrust into him and which drove me more and more insane each time they left his lips.
I saw when his cock was erect again, would have whistled in some admiration at his stamina if I weren’t in the middle of having sex with him. And when you’re having sex, there are things you do not mention until after you have fucked him into the ground. Well… that and the fact that I busy thinking of other things to do with him.
He gasped again, letting go of one of the sides of the bed to grab hold of his cock, pumping furiously at it before I snatched his hand away and slammed it back down against the bed. “None… of… that…!” I punctuated each word with an even harder and deeper thrust, making him cry out. In the back of my mind, I realized that there would be blood. But that thought was stamped down by the equally eager I don’t care!
He was moaning things now. “Oh my god…” and “Don’t do this to me,” being the more prominent ones amidst all the incomprehensible mutterings of a man lost in ecstasy.
I’d already waited for my pleasure… he’d just have to wait for his own.
Even with my cock buried deep in him, I still had the mind left to formulate a fiendish little plot of my own. I knew Tet-chan very, very well. And if there was one thing he hated to do…
“You’ll have to… say… please…” I told him, grinning like a madman even as he whimpered. He had that set look on his face, even while moaning and thrashing his head from side to side, he refused to do anything of the sort.
He tried to get around it, going for his cock again with his other hand, the one I had not pinned down, attempting to take advantage of my precarious position balancing over him and allow himself some sort of release (in the “heat of the moment” I’m sure).
But… that would spoil my fun.
“I’m not… going to… to…” his face screwed up with the effort of talking, as well as (most likely) to keep from screaming. “…to beg…!”
I leaned hard on the hand holding his other wrist down, bracing my weight on it, not breaking my rhythm, and snatched his hand away, smashing it (hard) against the bed. “None of that…” my voice was a growl in my throat. “My way… or nothing.”
I smashed into him again, driving into him as hard as I could and he did scream.
And again. And again. Flesh against flesh. My cock came out dripping now, blood and other fluids pooling and were absorbed into the sheets of the bed, stark red against the white.
“Say it…” I leant over from my position between his legs, ran my tongue up his chest, long and slow, making sure to avoid contact with his cock except for the barest brush…
He broke. “Oh god… please!”
I grinned then, letting go of one of his wrists, keeping my balance with the other, pumping his cock with all I had while I slammed into him, looking, looking…
I pounded into his prostate even as I felt myself lose that last bit of control to think. Nothing left, incoherent thoughts, blurring together—-harder, deeper, fasterfasterfaster…
He came first. Sticky, white, thick fluid spurted, spilling onto his chest, covering the bite mark at his navel, flecking the two at his nipples. He clenched his entire body then, crying out at his second orgasm that night, and I cried out with him as he clenched muscles I didn’t even know existed there…
I came moments later, still buried deep inside him, collapsing over him and draping my soaked hair over his chest, sweat sliding down over me as a moan tore out of my throat without my noticing.
I pulled out of him then, crawling up higher along his long, lean body, smearing excess bodily fluids of all sorts all over me until I reached his neck and I buried my face against him, breathing in hot, deep pants. I could hear his heart pounding—or it could have been my own. We were so close I couldn’t tell anymore… and I was too dazed to even try.
I opened my eyes, and I could see him swallow, the sight of muscles moving beneath made a flicker of desire to bury my teeth there in that flesh where his pulse beat like a caged thing and taste the hot metallic taste of his blood again mixed with the faintest bitter traces still in my mouth. But the moment passed. I felt tired—my body was heavy, too heavy to move, not even to inch forwards and flick out my tongue to taste the salty sweat on his skin. My well of sadistic pleasure was dry for the moment, all I wanted to do was… was…
I felt when his breathing slowed, and I half-noticed when he rolled over, depositing me on the bed beside him… but I closed my eyes then and I couldn’t open them… not to move… not to get out of there… couldn’t think any… more…
It was near dawn when I finally opened my eyes. The sky outside the window was not dark anymore. The lights in the room were still on and I realized sometime during the night, Tetsu had pulled up the blankets that had been splayed near our legs to cover us both, the AC in the corner still humming. I disentangled my limbs from him, he moaned something under his breath and curled up into a tight little ball as I pulled the blankets back over him.
Shivering in the chill of the air-conditioned room, I swept up my pants from the floor where they’d been haphazardly tossed out of the way and strode quickly into the bathroom. A good long, hot shower later, I walked back into the room with my pants on and keeping my eyes to the floor to look for my shirt, avoiding looking at the lump in the bed, still sleeping (he loved sleeping too much, that one) and focusing solely on finding my shirt and getting out of there as soon as possible.
I snatched it up, pulled it on over my shoulders and as I looked steadfastly towards the wall, I realized I’d been standing in front of the desk Tetsu had been sitting at, staring so hard at something written on the pages scattered over the polished wood surface. I picked it up. It was the basic script for the newest PV we were in the process of making.
On one corner of it though, he’d scribbled in messy, messy kanji, Meaning, meaning, meaning!
I looked over it. Meaning? In the PV?
I read through it, read through the entire thing. What would happen while the silence ruled in that filmed world of New York and my voice and our music dominated? What sort of meaning did we want to show through this latest song?
I turned around and looked up at him then, watched him as he made another one of those little whimper-moan sounds and curled up into an even tighter ball beneath the blankets. Watched as his face scrunched up just a little, then relaxed, then repeated the process several seconds later.
Then I took up one of the pens left neatly on the side of the desk and scribbled something in English on his script. The letters were clumsy, to be expected from a man who rarely wrote in anything except Japanese. Then I looked back at him once more before shaking my head and walking out the door. There couldn’t, couldn’t be such a relationship between us while we were still fellow band members… while we were still friends…
I closed the door, padded down the carpeted hallway silently, keeping myself from making any noise, to alert any of the security posted near our rooms in case of marauding fangirls. It wouldn’t do to have them talk. They’d see the sheets, the blood and they would wonder… but I couldn’t let them know the truth. One night. That was all it was. It was all it really could be!
I wasn’t like that. I couldn’t allow myself to develop any more damned feelings towards that man than I already do. I wouldn’t be able to hide it. No matter how much I could turn my eyes away from him during TV interviews, lives… it would out somehow. And we as a band, couldn’t let it out. Because I knew it wouldn’t last. I couldn’t play this part night after night after night.
And so I left.
When I woke up, he was already gone.
Not that I hadn’t expected it. Haido-chan was smart... too smart… I think he knew as well as I did that we could never have kept up anything. Not for long… and knowing each other the way we did… the thing was we knew each other too well. Our band would never survive if—-no, when--it ended.
I ached. I hurt. Sharp pains stabbed through me when I moved. But that thrilled me… I don’t know why. I lay back, still naked, skin growing cold as the AC continued to belch out chilled air in my direction as I thought.
I had to change something. Make everything resemble normalcy.
I got up then, ignoring the hot pain that flared up, and kept from groaning. I dragged myself to the desk, taking the blanket with me to ward off the cold (since I was entirely too far away from the AC now to shut it off—it was now on the other side of the bed) I sat down in the one chair provided me (this was a four-star hotel they say?) and proceeded to reach for my phone book.
As I did so… the papers I’d left there the other night in haphazard order caught my eye… most likely because they’d been neatly placed in a single stack in front of me. And in large, black marker, a single correction had been made—stark against the red pen scratches in my own hand.
“This knife will kill the one you love.”
That. Was. It!!
Everything would fall into place now! The scenes… all the scenes… and…
I gulped. The last scene… where I die… where he stabs me…
This knife will kill the one you love…
I picked up the phone and I dialled several numbers in order to arrange an Utaban interview in the near future for the band... as well as to arrange a special secret guest appearance.
It was about a year later that Hyde married a certain Oishi Megumi. Tetsu was not present at this, much to the disappoint of his vocalist… however, that day in the midst of the celebration, he was handed a small box (he wasn’t quite sure whom as he had been slightly tipsy by that time and certainly not able to stare at anything other than his new wife for longer than a second or two).
Inside, the small knife glittered, shining as if new. Hyde stared at it, stared up at Megumi. What was Tetsu trying to pull? Dredge up old memories? Play home-wrecker so early in the game?
Then he noticed the slip of paper stuck beneath the blade and pulled it out surreptitiously (blades are sharp little buggers after all).
“…unless you find its sheath. Then you will find forever.”
He stared. The other words in the PV! The ones that had been blanked out and which no one, absolutely no one could tear out of Tetsu's oh-so-secretive mouth!
He looked up to see Megumi staring oddly at a neat little black leather object she’d just pulled out of a box, twitching it first this way and that trying to make sense of it. A case.
He flipped the piece of paper over.
“Best wishes from a best friend.”
Then, in even smaller writing at the bottom, next to a nice big banana, he’d written “I can also offer you both my services free of charge should she happen to have a threesome in mind.”
He had to laugh out loud. And people said he was the hentai…!
He waded through the crowd and marched right for his front door which he flung open with some flourish to see a sheepish-looking Tetsu looking out of place dressed in highlighter-bright t-shirt in shorts in comparison with the rest of the formally-dressed throng. Hyde pulled him in anyway, back into the center of the crowd beside Megumi. He then proceeded to kiss his best friend soundly on the lips. Megumi too was daring enough (with some small coaxing from her laughing husband) to also bestow a cheeky kiss on Tetsu's lips.
It seemed such an aforementioned threesome wasn't so impossible as it originally seemed.
And beyond that... with some luck, I hope to have my video file on my computer tonight. *falls on floor in front of Mari's feet* Bless this goddess of wisdom.