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Short-stories : Bridgycat - It's understood

Bridgycat - It's understood

Bridgycat  2011.07.26. 20:13

NC-17, angst, dark, slash


Bridgycat
It's understood



His little body on your hard, white mattress, on his stomach, naked and grasping the sheets, he's so fucking frail, feels like it anyway, feels like you could fuck him apart if you tried, your cock still aching inside of him. You don't even know when the fuck you came, you're just looking at him for a bit. His wrists are so thin it's ridiculous. You can reach all your fingers around them, you've tried it quite a few times by now, his little whimpers against your skin as you fuck him and he can't move, you're fucking raping him, it's not sex, it's just rape without the "no"s. Sometimes you like to strangle him just to see if he'll do anything to try to stop you, his stuttering breaths unevenly pounding against your fingers as you stare at him and he stares back at you or closes those sad little eyes of his and lets you get away with it. That fucking kills you when he does, when he lets you get away with it. He always does so you suppose you die a lot, then.
He's so fucking tiny. He doesn't even ask you to get off of him, out of him, barely moves at all, just uncertainly trembles underneath you and you wanna laugh but you can't for one reason or another, it sticks and so you ignore it and rush the moment away. Pull out, get off, you don't even lay down beside him to be polite or anything, just get the fuck out of the room and slam the bathroom door shut behind you before you've actually managed to realize you're on your way taking a shower. It's a cliché but the water actually does wash him off of you, shakes his image from your mind and all that, erases his fingerprints tainting your white skin and gets the feel of him around your cock the fuck away from you as you trail into thinking about this new song you're supposed to work on next week and everything is going fine and all, the way it's supposed to go, when you suddenly feel the cold air of reality hit your back and you turn around and there he is. Just standing there. You can barely process the thought in your mind before he closes the shower door again and you're officially fucking showering together and you don't know how to fucking deal with that at all. You don't like showering with people, one of you ends up all cold against the wall instead of under the shower spray because there’s barely any fucking room in there as it is and you don't fucking do playful, you hate playful when you're this kind of sober but there he is anyway, looking at you looking right back at him and his little body still shakes in front of you or maybe that's just the water screwing up your vision, you don't know. You don't know.
He touches you, draws his hands over your chest and you don't really do anything, just stand there and watch him for all it's worth. Don't know what the fuck he's up to but you're getting hard for some reason and his little fingers slide down your stomach as he leans his head against you and you're starting to freak out a bit somewhere in the back of your head because you can't fucking read him properly and so you grab his neck with your strong hand, making him look at you even though he doesn't want to, you don't give a shit what he wants, it's about you, it's all about you and he moves his little hand around you, slowly, as he glances back up at you and you don't know what the fuck to do with that look he's giving you. Your first instinct is shoving him against the wall to either fuck him senseless or tell him to get the fuck out of your bathroom, both options work in your mind but he's too quick, slipping out of the grip of your wet hand clutching him and suddenly kneeling before you on the God damn shower floor and your mind goes blank and you hate him for sucking so good when you're trying to determine why the hell he's even doing it in the first place. You'd still live without it. Not that you stop it or anything, who'd be that fucking stupid, stopping a blowjob, you just lick your lips and tilt your head back against the wall and let him serve you because you don't wanna deal with thinking about how fucking surreal it feels because you simply don't care much for those kind of thoughts at all. You want facts, not uncertainties. He should know that by now.
You've stopped caring about how quickly you tend to come when he blows you and this isn't exactly an exception in any way other than the apparent situation change and he licks your cock dry of the slightest trace of cum once you stand there trembling against the wall, orgasm aching to your own, high moan still writhing blatanly in your ears. Fuck, the acoustic's good in here, water still gently smashing down over your shoulder, washing your sweatbeads away as you breathe and listen and feel so incredibly soothed it's quite insane. Feel him let you go and realize you don't want him to, his tongue felt so godforsakingly good but he's rising again before you can really register it efficiantly enough to actually manage to move your hands the least little bit at all and you don't even remember your thing about cum 'til you feel his lips against yours and you open up your eyes, feels like you've just slept or something and he's on his fucking toes to reach you and you kiss him hard but not as hard as you want to and taste yourself in some sickly delerious ritual or whatever the fuck that is, you don't care about explaining anything to yourself right now, convincing yourself some useless shit just to be able to fucking bear yourself in the first place, you don't care, you just kiss him and kiss him, it's just what you wanna do right now, and he moves his small hands to your arms and the moment's gone right then and there as he touches you again, you don't want him anymore, just like that, you don't want him anymore and so you break the kiss and put your fingers on his little chest, pushing him away from you with a half-hearted smirk on your face even though there's nothing to smile about right now at all. Try not to look at him, suddenly a harsh wave of unease sweaping right through you, you don't wanna see his God damn face, you don't want him looking at you anymore, he should be fucking used to it by now, you don't need to give him a fucking reason, he should get that by now.
Turn around and let the water splash all over your lean, naked body, goosebumped for some godforsaken reason and you raise the pressure on the shower spray, hard beads quickly throwing themselves down at you in some pathetic attempt of purifying you again but it doesn't fucking work, he just stands there, you can feel his stare carve along your spine and it just pisses you off or something close enough to it for you to turn the damn thing off and jerk yourself right around again, ask him what the fuck he wants as you stare at him stand there looking so God damn, you don't know what, itch crawling, burning, carving deeper and you take a step past him, opening the God damn door already and walking the fuck out of there, ripping a towel off one of the hooks along the wall outside and getting back out to the other room, red hotel carpet stained with the water drying on the soles of your feet and you don't know what the fuck you're supposed to do next, there's just this twitch you can't fucking determine in your mind and you don't wanna deal with it so you don't, go get dressed, your thin, black shirt clinging to your chest because of the water barely wiped off in the first place and you just put your shiny black boots on and walk down the corridor again, ignoring him in the doorway to the bathroom, standing there like some God damn, fuck, pulse throbbing, you're sweating again already as you slam the door shut behind you and everything turns into nothing again, just like that. Nothing.
There's something vibrating nastily through your gut and the soft skin on the palms of your hands and you spend the rest of the night in some club with some girls and when they suck you you can't really help picturing him instead but you brush it right off when they're done, when you're done and you get back to your room on fairly unsteady legs and manage to keep your mind off him all the way home 'til you collapse on your bed with your wrist right over his cum dried in the sheets and you don't know what to do with that at all.



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