|
Aramis sits up in his bed, thinking. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Through the thick, sweltering blackness of the unusually humid night, he reaches over to his left and opens up his desk drawer. Taking out his flask and a pack of cigarettes, he moves slowly, deliberately, trying to keep as still as possible. With the limited amount of moonlight pushing through a miniscule part in his curtains, he singles out a cigarette and places it between his lips. Lighting it, he takes in a long, slow suck, tilting his head back and letting the smoke curl out of his nose. He pulls the thin, sweat-soaked blanket up over his bare waist--he's naked beneath it, and a light draft dances across his chest. A single drop of sweat slithers down his already delightfully moist skin. He closes his eyes and sighs deeply. Next to him, a body stirs. "You know I hate it when you smoke," Reckless mutters. "It interferes with my breathing." "Then don't breathe. You'd be doing both of us a favor." Reckless grunts and yanks the sheets over his head, breathing in the barely-filtered air. Aramis, in turn, continues smoking, leaning forward and pulling his knees up to his chest. He thinks of the madness that ensued yesterday, and it suddenly dawns on him that... maybe the boy isn't worth the headaches he's been having so very often lately.
"Reck?" Aramis whispers, placing a sweaty palm on his partner's shoulder and shaking him gently. "Reck, are you still awake?" "Well, I am now," the irritable young man growled, throwing the blanket off of his head and letting it drift and settle down at his waist. He sits up, a drowzy rage slowly beginning to build in his eyes. "What is it?" "I wanted to ask you... do you think I made a mistake... you know... with him?"
"You've made a mistake with everyone except Mik," he confirms, wiping a drop of sweat away from his brow before it could trickle down into his eerily glacial white eyes. "You loved him enough to last a lifetime. As a matter of fact, you loved Mik so much you never had enough love to give anyone else, myself included."
"We never had a relationship, Reck," Aramis says bitterly. "We both agreed to that."
"We had a business relationship, you idiot," Reckless says through clenched teeth. "You were supposed to make sure I got to Gemini safe and unscathed. "What happened all those months ago--what happened just now-- has nothing to do with it. I still can't stand your guts. Just do your job and maybe I can stand to be in the same room with you for more than an hour at a time." "You're so very bitter," Aramis sneers. "Maybe you should take up smoking." Reckless laughs lowly, trying very hard to keep his hands from fixing around Aramis' throat. "Little b*****d," he mutters, fingering the scar under the blonde's eye. Aramis jumps at the feeling of Reckess' hand running over that god-forsaken skin. Instinctively, he grabs Reckless' wrist and wrenches it painfully, pulling him down in front of him. With Reckless at a disadvantage, Aramis puts the young man into a chokehold, cutting off the brunette's air supply. Reckless is shocked into action, and reaches his fingers up to the blonde's arms around his neck, clawing at them in an attempt to make him let go. "Don't you ever touch me there again!" Aramis snarls, tightening his grip around the young man's neck. Reckless bites down on Aramis' arm, piercing the skin and swallowing a mouthfull of blood before Aramis snatches his arm away, howling in pain. Taking the opportunity, Reckless punches Aramis as hard as he can, causing the young man to fall flat on his back. Reckless climbs on top of him, wrapping his fingers around the blonde's throat, squeezing the very breath from his lungs. "Don't you dare threaten me, you dirty little whore," Reckless hisses, a sadistic smile spreading over his face, his slightly pointed canines gleaming in the moonlight. "You forget who you're dealing with." Aramis lunges up and they lock into a stalemate, each young man trying to strangle the other unconscious. In the suffocating darkness, they kick and punch at each other, biting and scratching, the shuffling of bedsheet and creak of the bedsprings insinuating a situation far different from what is really going on. Every now and then, a yelp of pain pierces the gritty, sweat-laden air, and soon, they are both exhausted... though neither is willing to give the other the advantage. Suddenly, a scream slices through the air. Everything becomes eerily still... Reckless' silhouette is seen kneeling over Aramis' motionless body. He slicks his jet-black hair back with his hands, looking down. "Have you had enough yet?" he asks, smirking. "Y...you can go... straight to hell," Aramis whispers, in obvious pain. "I've already been through hell," Reckless reminds him, "And the Devil doesn't need any sort of competition. At least... that's what he told me." Reckess places the palms of his hands flat on Aramis' chest and pushes down lightly, a soft laugh slipping past his lips.
The rest of the night is compiled of whispered cusses and soft sighs. Aramis knows he'll regret it in the morning, but he needs this. He needs to feel as if he isn't master of his own fate right now. He needs to feel as if someone else is in complete control of what he can and cannot do. He needs to feel owned. Helpless. Abused. Enslaved. And Reckless was the only one who could do that. And as long as Reckless decided to stay around... he'd enjoy being his plaything.
Bleeding Apocalypse · Tue Mar 01, 2005 @ 04:13pm · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|