Anything

You're here again.

I know why. I know. There's not even a word needed between the two of us before I move forward and capture you with a light touch and a kiss. I know that kiss is empty for you. Just pressure and moisture, a trophy to add to your mantle of accomplishments. But that doesn't stop me from kissing you, does it? It doesn't stop you from accepting it, and it doesn't stop your eyelids from lowering, and it doesn't stop that rumbling sound in your chest that I know means you like it.

Some hero, hm?

And some adversary. How ironic. I know how the people who worship you would react if they knew.

I slide a hand up your shirt, skimming muscles that twitch and shiver under my fingers.

I know exactly how they'd look if they knew. I can see perfectly the fault lines in your perfection- and I hate that perfection but I'll maintain it for you. If they knew, it would shatter into millions of sparkling little perfect pieces, and your worshippers would pick their favorite shard and lament, "He was such a good hero. Why? Why?"

And I know why too.

Does that matter? You're being submissive this time. Bad day? I ease up, slow down, manipulate you slowly into place. It'll be okay. We never have talked, really. Is that bad?

Because I know I love you. And I know I'd die for you, inside and out. And you can lie to me with your hands, lie to me with loving touches and affectionate gestures. You can lie to me. I'll take it all.

But I know you don't love me.

I know a lot of things.

You're being positively limp today. Is it up to me to do all the work this time? Yes. And I'll do it happily, and you know that. It's not what I know anymore, is it? It's what you know.

Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to nip that hard. There. Better?

I wonder, sometimes, if it was a shock the first time. It was a shock for me. Days afterward, I was so confused I bawled like a toddler. And then you came, actually descended into the darkness, and wiped tears away so gently I thought, 'it must be true, it has to be,' but I know that it was pretend. We licked each other's wounds after that, and it settled into this rhythm.

Speaking of rhythm, calm down. Make up your mind, will you? Slow or fast. You can't have both.

Even though I know all of this, I'm still embracing it. And what good would it do me to push you away and demand you love me as much as I love you? It wouldn't do anything. You'd just leave.

And more than anything, I fear that.

So here we are again. I'm your release and you're the object of my adoration. But we both know it's different from the adoration of those twits aboveground, don't we?

I lick along the shell of one ear and feel you shiver, exhale.

Oh, yes. Yes, we know it's different.

But you can't forget the world you live in. That, more than anything, is what I hate. I hate that world.

I hate loving a hero.

Oh, save us! Save everyone from their own stupidity, including me! Come to the rescue, won't you? Be the hero. Be the hero so we can destroy you. Our fodder, our excuse, our shield. Do you know that we'll eat you whole, in the end? Maybe you do and it doesn't matter.

Just like my loving you doesn't matter.

But I love you just the same. If we're going to destroy you, at the very least all I can do is offer you some reparation. If only to make you happy, truly happy, for a short time.

Oh, god. I've reduced myself to a smattering of glass beads in the hands of the dispossessed. Ah, but what nice hands they are. I am content with that much.

You don't have to love me. Not truly. I wouldn't ask that you change for me, or go out of your way to make sure I'm happy. Because your happiness is mine, and that's all I need.

Ah… are we playing this game today then? Shh, it's alright. I'll be slow. Relax.

I'm not asking for your world, or the destruction of who you are. I wouldn't dare ask that, knowing that you would sooner leave. You don't take kindly to being pushed.

Just pretend you love me. Even if it's a lie. At least give me the lie, rather than silence. I'm a selfish bastard, I know, but please at least let me have that sweet lie, don't take it away from me. Don't tear through this web of shadows I've made. It's all that's holding me up right now.

Ah, god… have bad days more often, please. This is heaven, I'm certain of it.

I haven't been paying attention at all, have I? I'm sorry. I know that reproachful look. I know what it is you want from me, and you know I'm the only one here able to give it to you. Necessity? No, but it's turned into that, hasn't it. I know what your blue eyes are saying.

'Love me.'

Without hesitation.

AN:

What's this? A SportRobbie fic from me that does not end fluffily? OMGZ.

Uh. Yes. I was inspired by fanart again. Musachan owns part of my soul that loves LazyTown. It can't be helped. The song is by Evanesence, called Anything For You. Listen to it. It conveys the creepiness nicely.

Is creepiness a word? It is now.

I wanted to write something dark. Forcing It was kind of dark. But it still ended fluffy. No. I wanted a bad ending. So here's the first in what may be a small series of tragedies. Oh, LazyTown, you have such potential for these themes. I love you.

In other news, Honey Butter Toast (sequel to PBBS) is coming along nicely (meaning slowly) and there's a sidefic along with it that's chock full of humor and elves. Mmhm. It'll take awhile to get out though. So here's something to stir up the front page. It moves like mollasses, I swear.

Reviews are loved!