Author's Note: Heellooo agaiinn! I've been listening to one of my favorite bands newish album and two particular songs wouldn't leave alone and images would flash and i just had to get this out. My Sky High fic readers probably want to burn my body at stake and eat popcorn while doing it too so this is probably the last Grimmichi fic you'll see from me for a while. FOR AWHILE. Beccauuusseee...when i'm back, you're all going to want to hide under your beds and pile whatever clutter against your doors to keep the hurricane of stories hunting you down xD! I have so many ideas! :D! But i gotta store them in tha widdle box till i'm done with FH...*sighh* ANYWAYS! YESH! Here you go =)
WARNING: Yaoi, crude language, angsty Ichi. You have been warned! Now, go read, shoo! ^^
The same sweet game
Your halo is a flame
Feel my heart race
And breathe a sad sigh
Let me wash away
And let go of the pain
Just look away
And turn a blind eye
Seether Forsaken
The air reeked of it.
Coffee.
It overpowered my senses every time I entered the building.
I hated the smell with a passion. But he liked it.
So, it was fine.
I gazed out the window while I waited in silence for the god awful beverage to brew. It was late in the afternoon, the light outside darker and darkening still with each passing minute. I don't know how long I stood there watching.
Ding
I served it into the white coffee mug. His mug. The one his lips had touched only a few hours ago. I traced the spot where I knew he'd been drinking from. I knew it by heart; the exact spot. The way his lips graced the smooth porcelain. So gently. Sometimes I wished he was as gentle with me. But he wasn't.
And it was fine.
…3
5…
…8
I got out of the elevator. It was the last floor, the one he occupied. All the other floors were filled with people and bustling with noise. He couldn't be bothered to stand it. So he stayed up here.
I stood in front of the elegant door, knocking lightly before stepping in.
The office was clean, spotless, as usual. There was no clutter other than the piles and piles of paperwork on the desk. He liked things organized. First-rate. Perfect.
Like he was to me.
He stood, his muscular back to me, looking out through the pristine, tinted glass. He was pissed. I could tell. And stressed too. I could always tell. Even with his back to me, his stance was tense, cool, and irritable. I walked over to the cluttered desk and set down the steaming mug. I turned to leave, halfway to the door.
"Wait."
He spoke. I froze.
I could hear the edge in his voice, as well as the fatigue. He was in a bad mood, swallowing it down to keep his cool. He was stressed, and needed to relieve himself of the tension. I was there, and I couldn't say no.
I could never say no. Even if I knew how it would end up.
I made my way over to where he stood and waited behind him. He turned around. His face was the same, strong-boned, clean cut and unlawfully handsome. But his brows furrowed in slight annoyance and his jaw was locked, tensed. His eyes bore into mine. Those eyes. I could see everything in those stormy, thrilling blue orbs.
Irritation.
Frustration.
Need.
Lust.
He grabbed the front of my shirt, roughly pulling me to him and crushing our lips together. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Because I would take anything he gave me, and he knew it. He kissed me hard, hungrily, and I responded with equal desire, hooking my wrists behind his neck. A quiet moan escaped me when his tongue thrust into my mouth. He switched our positions and slammed me against the glass so hard I thought I would fly through it. The pain assaulted my back and I gave a slight whimper, but he was kissing me, touching me.
So, it was fine.
He bit down harshly on my lower lip and flicked his tongue along it. He ripped my shirt out of my trousers where it was tucked in and his hands slipped under it, eagerly roaming over my stomach, up to my chest, fingers leaving my skin a burning trail on my skin after their passage. He broke off the bruising kiss, giving my swollen lips a flick before kissing his way down my jaw to my neck. I tilted my head to the side to give him more access and closed my eyes.
It was always like this.
Heated and quick, never wasting a moment.
His mouth latched on to the sensitive skin right above my collarbone and he sucked on it, biting and nipping harshly, making me lean my head back against the spotless glass. I bit down on my lip to hold back a moan as he gripped my hips and ground his into mine. I could feel him through the sensible fabric, rubbing against me. And I knew what I had to do.
I pulled away from his mouth and he looked up, blue eyes piercing me. I slid my hands down from his neck, down his chest, until they reached his belt buckle. I met his lingering gaze before dropping to my knees. I undid the belt and started on the button, the bottom of my hand grazing the hard bulge. Slowly, I slid the zipper down and reached into the confines of his trousers and his boxers, pulling him out. I stared at his massive erect member in my face and brought a hand up to stroke it. I pumped it slowly but firmly. Just the way he liked me to do it at first. Then I stuck my tongue out and gave the swollen tip a swift lick to which he sucked in a breath. I held on to the back of his thighs for leverage and leaned in to take the head into my mouth. I swirled my wet tongue around him languidly, skillfully and he placed his hands on the clear glass behind me for support. His eyes were closed.
It gave me some confidence. Some security.
I stroked the base of his rock hard length, taking him in inch by inch. I felt him shudder when my mouth enveloped him completely. I tightened my lips around him, pulling back, then swallowing him whole again. I moaned as he pulsed inside my mouth, the vibrations making him curse. That voice. It drove me insane. So rough, yet sultry and sensual. I would give anything to hear it outside these walls. Gently, softly speaking to me.
But that would never happen, of course.
With me, that voice was commanding, strong, and authoritative. The way it had always been. I wasn't any different. But I was fine with that.
I pulled back, only to engulf him again in the wet heat of my mouth. His breaths were coming short, irregular, and one of his hands fisted my orange hair. He was losing control, slowly. Because of me. It made my heart race. Outside of this room, he would never spare me a second glance. I was just as good as the others. But in here, I could make him shiver. I could make him call out my name as he got even more out of control.
My name
On his tongue. It rarely happened, and when it did never for more than a second. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing more than a spur of the moment. But I lived for those moments.
I could tell he was close, so I quickened by pace, pulling off and taking him in faster and deeper, sucking harder on his stiff length, his grip on my head tightening as his thrusts sped up.
"Fuck," he grunted.
My grip on his thighs strengthened as I increased my pace, clenching my throat muscles and reveling in the groans I got in response. I pulled off totally, holding the base with my hand. I gave the engorged head a few short, firm flicks, tasting him on the tip of my tongue before taking it into my mouth and sucking hard. I dug my tongue into the small slit and wiggled it. He swore loudly and gripped my hair tightly, violently thrust into my mouth and catching me off guard for a moment before he came long and hard. I could feel his twitching member deep inside my throat as the thick, hot liquid coated it. I tightened my lips around him as his ragged breathing started to even out.
I pulled off of him, but not completely, my tongue running circles along the head as I slowly stroked him with one hand. I tongued the slit of his hard member, tasting and swallowing every bit of his essence, not letting one drop slip, giving him one last harsh suck before releasing him.
Without warning he yanked me up by my hair, making me give a loud yelp of pain before he smashed our lips together, prying mine open and hungrily running his tongue over every inch of my mouth, effectively shutting me up. He hadn't bothered to put himself back in his pants and I could feel him rub against my own growing need as his tongue slid along mine heatedly. He fumbled with the buttons of my white shirt before ripping it open, the remaining buttons flying in unknown directions. He stripped me of it, throwing it to the ground undid my slacks, pulling them down along with my boxers to my knees.
I could barely register the cool air on my newly exposed skin before kicked his chair out of the way, roughly throwing me against his wooden desk. I had to bring my hands up in front of me at the last minute to avoid the pain that would have surely come. I felt his cold hand on my back, pushing my upper body down, my face now inches away from last month's list of access bonds. I couldn't hear any noise. It was silent in the room, apart from the sounds of his hands as they worked on the buttons of his dress shirt.
"Spread your legs."
His voice was authoritative, not giving room for refusal, and though I couldn't see his face, I could feel the dangerous smirk as I complied. So were our encounters. These were the rules. I was obedient. Or I could forget it. Those were his words.
And I was nowhere near ready for that to happen.
####
I could feel him, the heat of his chest covering my back, his once again hard member pressed into my backside.
"Are ya' ready?" I heard him ask, as he slowly stroked one of my ass cheeks. I nodded, earning myself a deep chuckle.
A loud crack resounded throughout the room and I yelped at the sharp sting, biting my lip to retain any embarrassing sound that might have escaped me. The irony of it reminded me of how useless it was. Here I was, ass in the air, about to be fucked within an inch of my life. The door wasn't locked. Someone could come in any minute now and see us. But I didn't care. I was in way too deep. To the point where I would give it to him anywhere and whenever he wanted. Call me desperate, careless, and stupid even. Was I any of those things? Or all of them, maybe. But I found it didn't matter. It scared me. Shitless, even. How low I'd fallen. How far I'd gone for this man, who didn't give me a second thought.
"I said are ya ready?" he asked again.
"Y-yes."
His palm graced my still stinging skin with yet another slap, making me gasp loudly.
"Yes, who?" he asked calmly, his voice sensual and menacing as his lips grazed my ear, making me shudder. I bit down hard on my bottom lip to hold in the moan of delight that threatened to escape me.
"Yes, Grimmjow-sama!"
I felt myself being spread open wide by his hands, the head of his thick cock sliding along my puckered entrance, prodding it before entering me in one sharp thrust. I cried out in pain but it came out as something between a choked gasp and a moan. I felt myself tear a little, tears prickling at the corner of my eyes as he buried his massive length inside me to the hilt. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back hard into me. Again, and again, and again. I gripped the edge of the desk hard as I involuntarily rocked against it. It hurt, but I didn't complain. In fact, I soaked up every bit of it. Pain. Pleasure. Thrill. Because it would be some time before this happened again. I could feel my skin burning where his blunt nails dug in deeper into the skin of my hipbones. The pain fading from sharp to dull, before pleasure overrode my senses.
I could feel him brush against it over, and over, jolts of electricity shooting through me with each vicious thrust. I could hear his gruff breaths, his deep groans as he moved in and out of me at a brutal pace. I couldn't see his face and he couldn't see mine.
That's the way he kept it.
I didn't know why.
Or maybe I did and I just didn't want it to be.
During our wild escapades, he wouldn't look at my face. So he wouldn't have to remember it later. So he wouldn't need to think about me, or feel anything more than the primitive urges of his flesh. So he could flush me out of his system, discard me like a used pair of socks. And why? Because I was so easy. So easily forgotten. Nothing he couldn't wash down with a good beer or a quick fuck with the next person on the waiting list. I envied the people on that list. They knew they were being used. They knew it, and they didn't mind. They wouldn't sit home and think about him. Replay the moments they'd shared with him in their heads over and over again because it was stuck in their head like a tape stuck on repeat, the images flashing through their minds again and again. They wouldn't lay in their beds at night, unable to go to sleep. They wouldn't end up jerking themselves off so hard in the shower till they almost ripped their fucking dicks off.
No.
They wouldn't do that.
Because they could move on.
I couldn't.
I would always crawl back to him like sniveling stray puppy that I was. Even after it had been beaten up, left to starve on some sidewalk. I would come back, like I always did.
Because I could never stay away for too long.
I would begin to crave, follow his every move, dream of him, and I wouldn't rest. Then I would seek him out. And he would take me, use me, then cast me to the side again.
It was cycle. Never ending. And it made me dizzy. Sick to the stomach.
He reached around and gripped me, stroking firmly and fast, bringing me back. I could feel everything around me again. His hot breath fanning my ear. His thick length plunging in and out of me as he repeatedly stabbed the sensitive bundle of nerves, making my vision start to blur. I could hear a voice. Groaning, moaning and whimpering in delight. Was it me? I didn't know. Every inch of me was on fire. My eyes snapped shut, eyebrows knitting up in a frown of pleasure. This was what drove me to insanity, and kept me coming back. The way he could make me feel. Like every cell of my body was ringing with ecstasy. I could never manage to feel so alive. On my own, or with any stranger I took home.
He knew my body.
Every inch.
All those places he could hit, touch, and turn me into a sex-starved animal with no ability of speech whatsoever.
And it blew my mind.
I could feel it building. Higher and faster, enormous in my belly. The coil threatening to snap. And it did. His thrusts got more violent, deeper, and deeper still. The desk protested in vain, as did my legs and stretched entrance. My elbow was bent at an odd angle, the pain blunt, but I ignored it.
"Nngh…fuck, yer tight!" He grunted as he pushed into me one last time, the wooden desk abruptly moving forward with the force of his thrust as he spilled itself inside me. I could feel it filling me, hot and thick. I closed my eyes and waited for the painfully sweet euphoria to take me over.
But it never came.
His grip on the base of my cock mercilessly tight, denying me the release I craved. He liked to toy with me. Make me beg like the dirty, desperate, whore I was. And he was right to treat me like one.
"Ah! Mmmmffuuck…nngh….shit..sh-shiiitt….p-pleaase!" I begged miserably, my twitching member now surely turning a darker shade threatening to explode.
"What? Please what?" he asked the cruelty in his mock-innocent tone not going by unheard. I could feel his sadistic grin. Those razor-sharp canines that drove me mad. I couldn't take it anymore. At this point I would grovel or even lick the sweatiest feet in the world as long as this maddening want would leave me.
"F-fuck! Mmmm….ah, shit! Please….j-just!"
He squeezed tighter, making me let out a strangled cry. I felt him lightly stroke the head of my near bursting cock with his thumb and then dig it into the slit and I thought I would die right then and there.
"SHIT! Ah! Pl-please let me come!"
He loosened his grip. And I was a goner.
Pleasure washed over my entire body, wave after deadly wave. I was temporarily blinded and it felt like a while before my senses were coming back to me and I could slowly make out the door a few feet ahead of me. It was over. I didn't want it to be over. So I lay there, my own essence dripping along my thighs while he pulled out of me and got dressed. I was empty. But I was full all the same. I wanted like this. For a little while at least. But I couldn't. So I stood up and wordlessly picked up my clothes.
We put our clothes back on in silence, neither meeting the other's eye. So was the ritual. I pulled my pants back up, picked up my discarded dress shirt and started slipping it on. I didn't like it. Things were going back to the way they were. So easily. Like this had never happened. But it had. I knew it had. Yet, it hadn't. Because I was reassuming my role with each sleeve I rolled back up. With each button I hooked into the fabric. I was once again the negligible employee, and he the fearless boss. I turned to look at him, and met the back of his head. He was facing the glass, looking out like he was before I came in.
Before he found the way to blow off the steam.
I turned and walked to the door, twisting the knob and opening it. I glanced back. To see if he was looking back. If maybe somewhere along the way, he had decided to change his mind. If maybe he'd looked inside me instead of through me and saw something he'd wanted to keep and hold on to. Not throw away. Not forget. Remember.
Remember me.
But no. He wasn't looking.
So I left.
####
This is how it was. I would leave that room every time, thinking to myself that it was the last time I ever spent more than five minutes in there. But it was a lie. A horrible, monstrous lie. Because the truth was and still remains.
I would go back.
Each and every time if given the chance.
And I would lose myself to him all over again. Sometimes I would, drunk on pleasure, think and wish it was possible. For it to bloom, little by little. For him to look at me, and not through me. For us to be different people, having met under difference circumstances. For me to know him, and him me, as more than what we were. For the sky to be a different color. For birds to swim, fish to fly, and objects and animals to talk.
But then reality would kick in, and drag me kicking and screaming, to the present. To the now. And to the never changing truth.
I stepped out of the elevator.
Coffee.
It wasn't that bad.
Save me even as you break me
Every time you rape me
Leave me coming all undone
Praise me turn your back and hate me
Every time you waste me
Keep me underneath your thumb
Seether ~ Roses
Author's Note: That's it! Soooooooooooooooo...what didya think? This is was my first attempt at angst and i was kind of insecure but in the end i thought oh, what the hell, let's go! xD! I get the feeling i made Ichi talk too much and there wasn't much hotness. But at first there was too much smexyness and not enough of Ichi's feelings! *tears out hair in frustration and recites overdramatic speech* Ahem...err, so yeah! I hope you enjoyed it. That's what matters the most. Click that nice little button below and tell me your feelings on this! Constructive criticism is very much sought! I want to write the best i can for you guys, so let me know what you think!
Ciao!
*hugs*
~HG~ ^^