Title: Some of Them Want: To Abuse You
Author: mao
Disclaimer: Velvet Goldmine characters, likenesses, plotlines, etc. belong to Todd Haynes, Michael Stipe, etc. The quote at the beginning and the title belong to Eurythmics, from their song, "Sweet Dreams." In other words, I am poor and am not trying to make any cash off this. Please don't sue me.
Author's Notes: Part one of a four-part piece on abuse and passion. I was listening to a lot of Marilyn Manson when I wrote this. Oops. Note: I fixed the formatting on this because it was really bothering me. Hope it's a bit better now.
Warnings: Asshole!Curt, asshole!Brian, abuse, language, incest, violent sex. Really, really dark. I must be really screwed up to write this.
The slap rings out, across the empty room like a whip cracking. Brian can feel the welt rising up on his cheek, red and blisteringly painful and yetÉperfect. Exactly what he wanted. He reaches a hand up to the splotch on his otherwise porcelain cheek, a small smile playing across his lips. His lipstick was smeared with the slap, his blush spreading or maybe it's just the blood rising up. It's hard to tell with all the makeup he wears, but the tears have stopped now, and his eyeliner is only halfway down his face, the black lines stopped in thinly crusted tracks.
But then Curt's face is collapsing in. "Oh Brian, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean "
"Of course you did," he's cut off. Brian can feel the rage rising up inside of him again at Curt's sudden deflation. That anger, that fury that his lover had had only moments beforeÉgone? Can't be, he wants to scream. The way Curt's expression is changing at Brian's flat statement the clearly-cut regret and anguish on his face is too much. "You know you meant to, you bleeding tosser! Do it again, why don't you? Hit me again whilst I'm down!"
Curt's eyes are bulging. He's spluttering, "What do you mean? I didn't mean I mean, I didn't want IÉBrian?" He's confused; he doesn't know the rules to this new game, this violent expression of cruelty and rage. "What are you going on about? I didn't mea-"
And he's cut off by Brian's fist in his stomach, a single, harsh punch into the gut. Curt doubles over as his lover's voice continues taunting him angrily. "Did your brother have to beat you to get you off, Curt? Because I can do it too. I can smack you around twice as well as he did." A swift kick into Curt's vulnerable back. With Brian's boots, there'll be a hideous bruise there tomorrow, but neither of them care.
As Curt lies there, he finds himself wondering how it came to this.
They're lying on the bed, wrapped around each other, fully clothed. They've just reached the hotel, and there's nothing better than a quick nap for the jet lag. Or, because of insomnia, just lying in each others' arms, in the heat of their bodies.
"Tell me about your brother," Brian says quietly. Curt turns to look at him, fixes him with a square gaze.
"You mean that?" A nod. "No one's ever actually asked me about him before."
And so it slowly all comes outÉthe forced sex, the penetration by foreign objects, the blow jobs he used to give his brother in the bathroom. Quiet caresses before bed, quickies when mom and dad were both out, a foot sliding up his leg at the dinner table. Just enough petting combined with violence to keep a young boy completely entranced, totally enslaved.
"He did all that?" The look on Brian's face is pure curiosity, not an ounce of contempt, not an inch of irritation or amazement. A nod from Curt. "And you liked it?" After another moment, another nod. "Would you like it if I did it?" Curt sits up, away from his lover, trying to ascertain where this is coming from.
"Excuse me?" His voice is rough, low from all the talking of the past hour. "What are you talking about?" There's confusion clear on his face, panic riding the tones of his voice. Brian sits up to face him, looking him clean in the eye.
"Well, if it turned you on to get it from your brotherÉI mean, I don't ever seem to be doing it all right. You still haven't come." And then Curt slaps him.
"Oh, come on, Curt," Brian whines maliciously. "You liked it from your brother just fine. Why not from me?"
Curt slowly picks himself up off the floor, forcing himself to meet his lover's eyes. "You don't know shit about me and him. Just leave him the fuck out of it, you fucker."
"Don't know shit?" Brian's eyes are glittering, cold like diamonds. "You just told me the whole lot of it." Curt bites his lip, and Brian continues, ruthlessly dissecting their relationships. "I just want to know why I don't turn you on. If it's violence you wantÉI'll give it to you."
And then his head rocks back, as Curt punches him viciously in the jaw. "Don't you ever talk like that again," Curt informs him, pressing Brian against the wall, hard, unlacing the top of his pants. He rips Brian's down viciously, then takes him, hard, pressing the Brian against the window frame.
There's no lube, and the edge of the window bites into Brian's vulnerable thighs, but as Curt shudders hard, coming into him, he can't help but grin.