Morella
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Shinya watched in silence as the pale figure next to him slides silently off the bed with the fluid, ethereal grace only they seem to possess. They move in soft footsteps to the other side of the room, nude form gleaming in the dim light of the half moon outside. They look to be contemplating on what to read, running their slim fingers along the aged spines of the limited selection on the shelf; the domestic, comfortable feel of scene was really quite ridiculous.
In fact, the whole situation was really rather absurd, if one actually bothered to really give thought to it. That this person just across from him was even corporeal. They were so otherworldly, so different with their pale skin and even lighter hair. Sharp golden eyes that could dissect you, know what you were thinking before you could even grasp the thought.
Or maybe it just seemed completely impossible, that it was Makishima Shougo sharing Shinya's bed these days, thumbing through books on the other side of the room in the dead of night.
Shinya exhaled slowly, the smoke from the cigarette in his hand swirling up into the air. The room smelled musty, potent of sex and smoke, but Shinya couldn't really bring himself to wonder if that was the their fault; or the fault of countless other patrons. Inn's had become popular with those who managed to survive in the world outside of Sybil. Chances are their homes had been either destroyed or compromised by the never-ending wars that were waged.
Tilting his head back to look at the cracked and blackened ceiling, he ignored the ever-burning question of 'why?' that always accompanied the staunch feeling of guilt low in his stomach after these trysts between himself and the younger man across the room. Making sense of whatever this was between them, was something he had long ago given up on. It all really boiled down to the fact that he simply could not keep himself away from the other man. They were like moths to flames; not able to keep away even given the imminent and near certain danger of being burned. The attraction between them was alive and magnetic and very much so all consuming.
But being alone like this, cooped away from Sibyl and the bureau and the memories... it was far too easy to forget that the man gasping and panting beneath him, crying Shinya's name was the very same he had once sworn to kill.
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Another long sigh. More smoke fogging the room.
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The enforcer shifted his gaze to once more watch the former criminal across the room. Words seemed to be rarely rarely spoken between them, even though they both knew conversations between the two of them could flow endlessly. But the danger of making this all seem much more real was too imminent. It was an unspoken understanding in that words would make this- whatever this was, much more than a few frenzied hours in the dark of the night. By talking, they would shatter the fragile illusion that they had carefully crafted. Words would ruin the game of make believe, the game of pretending that they didn't lust for the others blood.
Shinya's fingers twitched at the thought. It was... something he didn't like to admit that he'd still sometimes think about. Thoughts about a ring of bruises around the others slender neck, or twin slits on thin wrists.
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Putting a bullet in his head.
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The cold skin.
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The blood.
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He thought about it often.
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And sometimes... it disturbed him.
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(But only sometimes.)
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Seeming to finally sense the pair eyes on him, Shougo lowered his book and raised his amber gaze to meet Shinya's. He cocked his head to the side, leading long strands of silver hair to spill off his shoulders and onto his pale chest. His gaze was unwavering as he strode back to the bed where Shinya was still sprawled. The book was carefully placed somewhere at the foot of the bed and quickly forgotten as Shougo slowly crawled on top of the raven. His movements were so fluid, long limbs carefully arranged as he placed himself on Shinya's lap, his golden gaze never fleeting, never blinking.
He was waiting; as he always did, for Shinya to make the first move. A brutal remainder of his cruelty. Shougo's own silent plea that Shinya would wake from the illusion, would see him the same in the outside world as he did in here.
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(How selfish.)
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Crushing the smoldering cigarette in his palm, Shinya carelessly tossed it in the general direction of the ashtray before leaning forward to bite the others bottom lip, drawing a soft sigh as Shougo slid his arms up Shinya's chest before looping themselves around Shinya's neck.
Moving his own hands to flared hips, Shinya easily took control of the kiss. Submitting to the illusion was easy. Far too easy when in actuality the illusion was carefully guarding your friend's murderer. Sliding his hands down slim thighs Shinya absently wondered how different things could've been.
A gasp escaped the man on his lap as Shinya bit down harshly on his swollen lip before lapping at the wound.. Those were some of his favorite thoughts. They were easy. It was... nice to imagine a world where Sasayama was still alive.
Calloused fingers gripped Shougo's thighs as Shinya pushed the criminal off his his lap and into the mattress. White hair spilled out and golden eyes were hooded with lust as their harsh breathing filled the room.
Even nicer to imagine a world where the only person in the world who could really understand you wasn't a sociopath.
Those same hands slid up along Shougo's body to his shoulders, holding him down as Shinya captured his lips once more. His taste never changed, Shougo always tasted of too-sweet tea and even sweeter pastries. He tasted familiar and warm and the obvious inexperience and uncertainty the criminal had once displayed had long since disappeared.
Shinya hadn't even realized his hands had moved to the others throat until the others head fell back, Adam's apple moving under the raven's thumbs in automatic effort. There was no other struggle. No flailing or resistance. Shinya had long since realized this too. That in the end, there would be no fight between them.
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That in the end, Shougo would gladly allow Shinya to avenge his fallen partner.
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He squeezed his fingers tighter, the realization that he could end this now setting in. It was unfair though really, that even when dying the other could look so beautiful. The bright amber eyes were fluttering closed, his silver lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. Even in death, the damned psychopath looked like an angel fallen from grace. "In another life I could've fallen in love with you." he heard himself say softly, fingers still wrapped tightly around the others throat.
Shougo's eyes snapped open allowing Shinya to see something flicker quickly across them as he finally moved to raise his own hand up to touch Shinya's face. "That what a pity," he murmured more to himself than Shinya, "that we were born in this one."
Shinya shuddered at his words, at the awful truth of them. Slowly removing his hands from Shougo's throat, he found himself morbidly fascinated by the marks left behind, although not at all surprised by them. Shougo's skin had always marred so easily it wasn't at all shocking to see distinct marks already forming on the porcelain throat. Shinya did however, feel an uncharacteristic pang of guilt. But even that didn't seem quite right, that even after everything, all they chaos and pain this monster had caused countless people, Shinya could still find it within him to feel bad for hurting the silverette. It was laughable, especially considering the loaded gun in the Enforcers coat pocket across the room.
Shinya slowly raised a hand to Shougo's cheek, running his index finger gently over the sharp cheekbone. A pause. Then a slight tilt of his head before slowly lowering his lips to brush over the bruises he had left. A sharp gasp sounded below him as Shougo flinched violently, hands immediately flying to the Enforcer's shoulders. They didn't push him away, but hovered as if uncertain what to do.
That was cruel too, after all. Tenderness did not exist between them. They weren't in a relationship, weren't lovers. The attraction was very much real, but even that didn't equal to much, and especially not to the novelesque idea of lovemaking. Every kiss between them was a crude mockery of the action. A gnashing of lips and tongue and teeth with none of the finesse Shinya had once come to acquire through past conquests. There was no murmured words of promises or praise, no caresses. Despite these facts, Shinya had quickly discovered the others craving for attention and affection.
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And he always had been one to pick at wounds.
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Slowly trailing his lips down collarbones that were much too sharp, Shinya grabbed a fistful of silver hair before claiming Shougo's lips once more. They clashed- like always- teeth clacking and tongues twisting as the raven ground his rapidly hardening arousal against the man's below him.
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Sad, that in this life it was all just too easy to forget.