The Pledge | By : paraparanoia Category: > Kyo/Shinya Views: 982 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Dir en grey. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: The Pledge
Author: para_para_noia
Archived: Sure, go ahead. Just let me know, k?
Summary: A sad one ._.
Rating: NC-17
Warning Codes: Anal, Death, M/M, Oneshot, Oral
Pairings: Kyo/Shinya
Feedback: c/c = ♥
Authors Note: I hate this fic ‘cos it makes me sad but still I find it somewhat comforting. Recommended BGM [Dir en grey – The Pledge]
Disclaimer: I own no-one and make no profit.
Word count: 2261
He was having the same dream, again. In the dream he was standing alone in a dark hallway that seemed to stretch in front of him forever and while he couldn’t see anyone in it besides himself, there were distant sounds of soft footsteps that seemed to echo in his very head. Taking cautious steps forward he tried to reach the end, but, as always, his tries were in vain. No matter how long he walked, he never got even close to the end of the tunnel. After a while he seized on his steps, his breath white in the suddenly chilly air. The short hair on his bare arms stood up as his ears picked up a sound of ragged breathing.
“Who’s there?” an almost silent plea left his trembling lip as he tried to see behind himself. The darkness behind him was black like ink. It swallowed every last trace of the sick light that was coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.
“Please? Is there someone in there? Who are you? What is this?” he could hear the nervousness in his voice and it made him even more aware of everything around himself. His back pressed tightly against the cold damp wall and eyes straining to pick up the smallest of movements he inched his way forward. A sudden clatter of something heavy in front of him stopped him on his tracks. Breath hitched in his throat he could feel all the colour drain from his already pale face. He was too afraid to even breath as he tried to think. Should he continue ahead or maybe go back, to see if there was something that could help him to get out of the goddamned tunnel?
Soft, clicking sound emerged not more than ten feet away from his and made him gasp. The sounds seemed to catch the things - whatever it was - attention and before he knew, his body was being dragged into the jet-black darkness. Something warm was spreading on his chest and his eyes catched a dark red stain growing over his heart before his mind went blank.
Shinya opened his eyes, rapidly eyeing the familiar surroundings as his breathing slowly calmed down. His pyjama was clinging to his frail body, but he was shivering inside. He hated the dream. He hated the way he hated it, the way it made him feel, small and fragile. A quick glance to the clock told him that it was already 3:21. It was late but he knew he wouldn’t mind. He had promised to Shinya a long time ago that he’d be there for him, no matter what.
He sighed and got out of his bed. He didn’t waste time on putting on some proper clothes, merely grabbed his coat, took his keys and left. The light was still on but he didn’t see it.
I try to focus my eyes on the red digits of my clock and groan as I realize it’s only 3:40. What woke me up at this hour? I hardly have time to answer my question as the answer rings again. The doorbell. I know it’s Shinya before I open the door. He’s the only one who could come by at this hour.
I unlock the door and it creaks as it opens. Strange, it hasn’t done that before. Shinya stands still behind the door, his eyes are puffy and red, ‘I bet he’s been crying’ I think as I let him in.
I follow him to my living room without a word, I know he’ll talk when he’s ready. He sits on my worn-out couch - the one he always demands me to get rid of - and motions me to sit down with him and I do. We sit in silence for a few minutes before he sighs and turns his pretty face towards me.
“I... Kyo... will you make love to me tonight?” he blushes before he completes his sentence and hides his face behind the silk curtain of his perfect hair. I reach my hand and lift his face to look him in the eyes, “I love you”. “I love you too”, he replies and holds my wrist. He flicks his tongue out and traces the lines of my weakness on my inner wrist. I gasp and close my eyes as I feel the warm tongue press against my skin. I take his hand when I’m still in control of myself - which doesn’t happen so often when I’m around him - and lead us to my bedroom on the other side of my apaato. He stops on the doorway as he always does, no matter how many times we’ve been here, but this time it’s somehow different. I turn as he’s still not moving and catch a glimpse of something what seems like sorrow in his eyes, but it’s gone before I fully realize it was even there. He smiles a bit and steps inside. His frail body brushes by me and I smell his scent - a mix of fabric softener, sleep and himself. He sits on my bed and starts to unbutton his top as I watch him in the dim light. His skin is glowing. He removes his top and lays down on the bed. I lay myself next to him and he pulls me in an embrace. His skin feels cold against mine as I wrap my arms around him and we kiss. His lips are soft and familiar yet somehow strange. I know it’s the night. ‘Tonight seems to be different in many ways’, I wonder but my thoughts are cut short as he speaks again.
“I want you to have me... completely”. His eyes are locked into mine and I nod, I could never deny anything from him, even if I’d want to and most of the time I don’t. He kisses me again, this time more fiercely. I can feel his teeth scrape my bottom lip but I don’t really care or notice, it’s not like we wouldn’t have tried a thing or two while we’ve been together.
I moan softly in his mouth and let my hands wander on his bare chest. Minutes - or maybe hours - later we break our kiss, both gasping for breath. He pushes me away from him and places his cold fingers on my chest. Frowning he traces the faded scars zigzagging on my chest. We never talk about them but he knows I would tell if he’d ask. Still he doesn’t, just like I don’t ask about that from him.
I can feel my body react to his feather-like touches and like he’d be able to read my mind - which he is, I’m sure of that - he takes one of my nipples in his mouth, making me moan. My hand reaches into his hair as his hands rain little touches on my body. He sure seems to be in control but I know he doesn’t want that, not tonight, so, without much of an effort I top him, my hands still wound up in his soft hair.
He looks so beautiful, lying beneath me, cheeks slightly pink and lips parted. I bend down and place my lips on his and we kiss, languidly, before I start to make my way down on his lithe body. I love his collarbones, how they stand out under his white skin. I kiss his throat, leaving a wet trail after me. Once, a long time ago, he told me that he loves the way my saliva cools off on his skin.
I pick one of his nipples in my mouth and feel his fingers crasp my hair. The slight pain endorses me to further, but I won’t, not just yet. My other hand pinches the nipple previously left unnoticed and his body arches slightly under me. I continue my journey down to his belly. My lower body brushes past his erection and he hisses, crasp tightening a bit in the mess of my hair. I ignore him as my tongue dances on the muscles of his flat belly. As I reach his navel, my hands are untying the hash of his pyjama pants, teasingly brushing him but not enough to really give him anything. He bucks his hips but I push him down with one hand as he’s really not objecting, while my other hand slowly slides the pants down. I stop for a while, just to admire him. He’s so beautiful! I can’t understand how he decided I’m good enough for him. Years ago, when he first asked me out, I thought he was just kidding, but later I came to realize that he wasn’t, he wanted to be with me. That he needed me, like I needed him. And still do.
His writhing body under me wakes me up from my thoughts and he looks at me, mock-hurt that I had let him wait. I smile at him gently as I ran my fingers on his thighs, making him close his eyes tight. I lower my head and take him in my mouth. I fall in love with him again; the way he moans, the way he tastes... the way he loves me. My tongue makes patterns on him as he makes those little mewling noises he knows I adore. I continue my ministrations on him as my hands caress the cool skin of his thighs and abdomen and I can feel his tense muscles under my fingers. He’s moaning as I move my head between his legs. My hair is probably tickling the sensitive skin on his thighs cause I can feel him squirm like always when someone is tickling him and it makes me chuckle. The vibration of my throat is taking him closer to his release and as he nudges I start to hum. He claims to like the calming effect but it doesn’t take him too long to reach his climax and he comes into my mouth, hands balled into fists as he cries out my name. He tastes like salt and I swallow it all before I pull myself up to him, placing a small kiss on his slightly sweaty forehead.
We rest for a while before he reaches to my nightstand and fumbles with one of the drawers before he gets his hands on what he’s looking for. He opens the bottle of lube and spreads some of it on his fingers. He reaches down my body and takes me into his hand, spreading the cool substance over me. His hand on me is heaven and I almost come, but I manage to restrain myself. I kiss him sweetly and take his hand in mine, squeezing it tightly. As I open my eyes, though I don’t remember closing them, I see permission in his eyes. Kissing him softly I push myself inside him, maintaining eye-contact with him for the whole time. I let him get used to the intrusion, speaking sweet nonsense in his ear before I start moving slowly. I can feel he’s ready again, it’s always like this between him and me. I wrap my hand around him and stroke him in time with my thrusts. We’re both moaning now, sheen of sweat covering our bodies moving in perfect rhythm. We look at each other, the intimacy of it almost unbearable.
As I speed up with my trusts my hand on him gets sloppier but he barely notices. With a soft moan he releases himself between us and with his muscles tightening around me I follow suit, being more vocal then him as I do so. I collapse on top him, feeling too drained to move. He sneaks his arms around me, cuddling himself as close as possible.
“Thank you”, he whispers softly and I pull him in my embrace. “Thank you,” I reply as I kiss his cheek.
His skin is still cold, my burning skin in flames in comparison. It makes me a bit worried but he’s already asleep I don’t have the heart to wake him up, so I wrap us in a blanket and fall asleep, his arms around me.
A while later, couldn’t have been more than few hours, Kyo wakes up. His vision is a bit blurred after the short sleep. He reaches his hand to stroke Shinya’s face. The skin of his love is ice-cold. He brushes his trembling fingers on the smooth surface but nothing happens. The beautiful eyes of his most precious person remain closed. His life is not breathing anymore. Lips parted in a faux act of taking in the oxygen are still holding a fragment of pink the other wise white face.
Kyo gets up quietly as he can, as if not to wake the other man up. Reaching the toilet he throws up and slumps besides the cold porcelain. Making up his mind he rips a packet of razorblades and picks one in his fingers. He gets back into the bed, curls as close as Shinya’s lifeless body as possible and kisses the soft cheek once more, silent tears running down his face. He slits his wrists, the crimson red blood staining the stark white sheets. Slowly everything becomes comfortably numb as he presses his body to his lovers, the numbness creeping up to his heart.
“I love you. I always did and always will”, he whispers as the whiteness of what’s death slowly blurs his vision and his eyes flutter close.
In the morning they are no more.
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