Author's notes: Just a little drabble that hit me at about 2am in the morning. While it's not great, it's certainly better than the Alfeegi x Kai-stern ficlet I wrote straight afterwards. My early morning muses are never all that coherent. I'm not really all that sure what inspired this, perhaps a mixture of how Rath is not as innocent as he always seems, and the complete dedication Kai-stern has for him. Any thoughts welcome.
Warnings: This has a high PG-13 rating. I almost rated it R, but it seemed a little silly considering that it would apply really only to one line. The rating is for sexual situations, so you have been warned.
Falling.
Kai-stern rains gentle kisses on the body beneath him, kissing down an exposed neck with tenderness as his hand brushes gently across the small of Rath's back. This is a nice pretence, one of dedication and love, and it is a pretence that Kai-stern knows that he could lose himself in, if only he were allowed to. He is used to worshipping and softness when it comes to his lovers, and those emotions would dominate this act if he had any influence.
Gently, gently, along exposed thighs. Gently, gently, onto a tanned chest. Rath's chest is so unlike Kai-stern's own, unmarred in any way, and unnaturally smooth to touch. Nothing jagged, nothing torn beyond the ability of healing hands, Rath has always been undeniably pretty.
And Rath likes gentleness as well, just not from him.
The younger man only ever lets this pretence of companionship and love go on for so long, but always long enough to tantalise and taunt, to hurt instead of merely harm. This has never been about devotion, just as it has never been about sex.
As Rath flips them both over, reversing their positions, there is an anger flickering in dark eyes.
This has always been about hate.
He closes his eyes as Rath's hands explore roughly, harshly. They demand he yield, and so he does, just as when Rath's mouth demands access into Kai-stern's own, he allows it without hesitation.
Because this has always been about love.
They are both breaking, falling into pieces that scatter almost instantly upon hitting the ground. Rath desires something that Kai-stern cannot give, even as he offers up everything to the younger man that he demands.
But that isn't what Rath wants, what he does is for Kai-stern to say no. And so, Rath pushes and pushes, asking and demanding more so that, when Kai-stern will eventually find he cannot give any further, he doesn't merely break, but shatter.
Rath needs Kai-stern's hate, some final proof that the love that Kai-stern offers is as false as everything else in Rath's life. Only then will Rath be free to fully hate himself.
Kai-stern can't allow that, will not ever allow that.
And so, he doesn't make a sound as Rath enters him, the casual violence of the act filled with a desperation that Rath can never speak of, and that Kai-stern doesn't have the means to erase. His own failure hurts far more than anything Rath physically does to him.
Not that this doesn't hurt, all the same. It's certainly meant to.
It ends quickly, in a heated rush that leaves behind the promise of bruises. When it is all over, Rath only despises them both that tiny bit more, and as the younger man rises to leave they don't exchange any words, at least not ones that pass through bruised lips.
I hate you.
I love you.
Rath slams the door behind him, and Kai-stern comes another step closer to shattering.
Always.