Notes: My first finished fic ever ^____^ So bear with me. It's not
terribly original or even very good, but I'm proud of it simply because
it's done. The fandom and orientation could really be anything you
want it to be, since it names no names, but I did have 1x2/2x1 in mind
when I wrote it. I honestly didn't mean for it to be so citrusy, but
that's how it wrote itself. IMO, it should count as a lemon, but
others assure me that it's not, so. . . Anyway! Enough babbling from me
and on with the fic!
Disclaimer: The song is "I Can't Make You love Me" by George Michael.
I'm not sure if unnamed charas need a disclaimer, but they are owned by
Bandai and such. The story itself is owned by Rikka.
[song lyrics]
I Can't Make You Love Me
I look around the beat-up little shack that me and my partner are
staying in. There's not much there. Just two bed rolls, three trunks,
a few old wooden crates that were here when we arrived, and a small
pile of objects by the door. And candles. Lots of candles. I spent
every last penny I had on those candles, and now they cover the trunks,
the crates, and much of the floor.
[turn down the light]
With one last glance at the room, I move over to the wall and flick off
the electric light. Without windows, it's too dark to see my hands as
I fumble with my lighter. Once I can see where I'm going, I start
around the room, lighting my candles. There was supposed to be one for
every person that I've killed, but I didn't have that much money.
Still, there are alot of them, and the room is soon aglow with
flickering light.
[turn down the bed]
After they're all lit, I turn from the candles to the beds. Not very
romantic, sleeping bags, but we don't have anything else. Oh, well. I
pull both bags into the middle of the room and layer them, one on top
of the other. Once they're arranged to my liking, I go get the plastic
bag from the pile beside the door and start pulling out flower petals.
I didn't have any money left after the candles, so I had to steal them
from someone's garden. There was supposed to be one for every day that
I've loved him, but there weren't enough flowers. Still, there are alot
of them, and I'm soon walking around on a carpet of silky, blood-red
roses.
[turn down these voices inside my head]
They're strangely silent right now. I think they may actually approve
of what I plan tonight. I smile humorlessly at the thought. My demons
*would* like something like this. They claim that there is one demon
for every sin that I've committed, but I don't think there are that
many voices. Still, I know they will soon be back to torment me, like
they always do.
[lay down with me]
I hear his footsteps outside and quickly pull my clothes off, throw
them in a corner, and scurry to the bed. When he enters, I am reclined
on the roses. I prop myself up on my elbows, knees slightly spread
apart, and *look* at him. He's still standing stunned in the doorway
when silently, gracefully, I rise and stalk towards him.
[tell me no lies]
When he seems like he's about to speak, I raise one long, calloused
finger to his mouth. Then I lean forward and replace my finger with my
lips . My hand, now free, pulls the door closed as I maneuver him into
the room. The other one begins to work on his clothing. Quickly
joined by its mate, they leave a trail of cloth along our path towards
the bed.
[just hold me close]
For a moment, he doesn't respond. Then suddenly his arms are tight
around me and his fingers are everywhere. He is as bare as I when we
finally tumble onto the sleeping bags.
[don't patronise]
[don't patronise]
His movements are gentle at first. They always are. But I don't allow
such softness to continue. Soft is for someone who isn't a terrorist.
Gentle is for some one who isn't a murderer. I am neither , so I need
neither.
['cause I can't make you love me if you don't]
[you can't make your heart feel something that it won't]
I moan for him to take me. He hesitates, searching for something to
ease my pain. There is nothing, and I pull him down on top of me and
force him inside of me. It hurts, but that's how I wanted it.
[here in the dark in these final hours]
[I will lay down my heart]
My lover leans over and kisses the tears from my cheeks, whispering
apologies for hurting me. I don't tell him that the tears are for a
completely different pain, one that he started a long time ago. I
don't tell him that.
[and I feel the power]
He starts to move inside me, and I understand why my demons let me have
this moment to myself. Because there's not a single thing they could
say that is worse than what I'm doing to myself.
[but you won't, no you won't]
Silently, the tears continue to fall.
['cause I can't make you love me if you don't]
[I'll close my eyes, then I won't see]
Above me, his expression begins to change from concern to
concentration, and I have to close my eyes to the sight. I know what
I would find, were I to look into those eyes, and I can't stand it.
[the love you don't feel when you're holding me]
Nothing. I would find absolutely nothing in his eyes.
[mornin' will come and I'll do what's right]
[just give me till then to give up this fight]
For now, though, I will lose myself in our embrace. I will not think.
I will enjoy myself.
[and I will give up this fight]
I tell myself this, and I slowly become aware of the electiricity
running through my body with every thrust of his hips, the fire in my
stomach with every stroke of his hand. Slowly, I begin to enjoy
myself.
['cause I can't make you love me if you don't]
[you can't make your heart feel something that it won't]
The next morning, I rise and dress early, as I always do. Looking
around, I see. The candles have all burned out. The petals have all
been crushed. The demons have all come back.
[here in the dark in these final hours]
[I will lay down my heart]
I walk over to my sleeping friend. At rest, he looks so innocent. He
looks like he might be able to love me. But he doesn't, and he won't.
[and I feel the power]
I lean over and gently kiss his lips. No tears fall.
[but you won't, no you won't]
I walk to the door and hoist the waiting pack to my shoulder. Outside,
I stretch and go to my waiting car. I'm halfway to the next county
before I have to pull over. My hands are shaking and I can't see
through the tears. One tear for every time I said, "I love you."
Still, it soon passes, and I continue driving.
['cause I can't make you love me if you don't]
terribly original or even very good, but I'm proud of it simply because
it's done. The fandom and orientation could really be anything you
want it to be, since it names no names, but I did have 1x2/2x1 in mind
when I wrote it. I honestly didn't mean for it to be so citrusy, but
that's how it wrote itself. IMO, it should count as a lemon, but
others assure me that it's not, so. . . Anyway! Enough babbling from me
and on with the fic!
Disclaimer: The song is "I Can't Make You love Me" by George Michael.
I'm not sure if unnamed charas need a disclaimer, but they are owned by
Bandai and such. The story itself is owned by Rikka.
[song lyrics]
I Can't Make You Love Me
I look around the beat-up little shack that me and my partner are
staying in. There's not much there. Just two bed rolls, three trunks,
a few old wooden crates that were here when we arrived, and a small
pile of objects by the door. And candles. Lots of candles. I spent
every last penny I had on those candles, and now they cover the trunks,
the crates, and much of the floor.
[turn down the light]
With one last glance at the room, I move over to the wall and flick off
the electric light. Without windows, it's too dark to see my hands as
I fumble with my lighter. Once I can see where I'm going, I start
around the room, lighting my candles. There was supposed to be one for
every person that I've killed, but I didn't have that much money.
Still, there are alot of them, and the room is soon aglow with
flickering light.
[turn down the bed]
After they're all lit, I turn from the candles to the beds. Not very
romantic, sleeping bags, but we don't have anything else. Oh, well. I
pull both bags into the middle of the room and layer them, one on top
of the other. Once they're arranged to my liking, I go get the plastic
bag from the pile beside the door and start pulling out flower petals.
I didn't have any money left after the candles, so I had to steal them
from someone's garden. There was supposed to be one for every day that
I've loved him, but there weren't enough flowers. Still, there are alot
of them, and I'm soon walking around on a carpet of silky, blood-red
roses.
[turn down these voices inside my head]
They're strangely silent right now. I think they may actually approve
of what I plan tonight. I smile humorlessly at the thought. My demons
*would* like something like this. They claim that there is one demon
for every sin that I've committed, but I don't think there are that
many voices. Still, I know they will soon be back to torment me, like
they always do.
[lay down with me]
I hear his footsteps outside and quickly pull my clothes off, throw
them in a corner, and scurry to the bed. When he enters, I am reclined
on the roses. I prop myself up on my elbows, knees slightly spread
apart, and *look* at him. He's still standing stunned in the doorway
when silently, gracefully, I rise and stalk towards him.
[tell me no lies]
When he seems like he's about to speak, I raise one long, calloused
finger to his mouth. Then I lean forward and replace my finger with my
lips . My hand, now free, pulls the door closed as I maneuver him into
the room. The other one begins to work on his clothing. Quickly
joined by its mate, they leave a trail of cloth along our path towards
the bed.
[just hold me close]
For a moment, he doesn't respond. Then suddenly his arms are tight
around me and his fingers are everywhere. He is as bare as I when we
finally tumble onto the sleeping bags.
[don't patronise]
[don't patronise]
His movements are gentle at first. They always are. But I don't allow
such softness to continue. Soft is for someone who isn't a terrorist.
Gentle is for some one who isn't a murderer. I am neither , so I need
neither.
['cause I can't make you love me if you don't]
[you can't make your heart feel something that it won't]
I moan for him to take me. He hesitates, searching for something to
ease my pain. There is nothing, and I pull him down on top of me and
force him inside of me. It hurts, but that's how I wanted it.
[here in the dark in these final hours]
[I will lay down my heart]
My lover leans over and kisses the tears from my cheeks, whispering
apologies for hurting me. I don't tell him that the tears are for a
completely different pain, one that he started a long time ago. I
don't tell him that.
[and I feel the power]
He starts to move inside me, and I understand why my demons let me have
this moment to myself. Because there's not a single thing they could
say that is worse than what I'm doing to myself.
[but you won't, no you won't]
Silently, the tears continue to fall.
['cause I can't make you love me if you don't]
[I'll close my eyes, then I won't see]
Above me, his expression begins to change from concern to
concentration, and I have to close my eyes to the sight. I know what
I would find, were I to look into those eyes, and I can't stand it.
[the love you don't feel when you're holding me]
Nothing. I would find absolutely nothing in his eyes.
[mornin' will come and I'll do what's right]
[just give me till then to give up this fight]
For now, though, I will lose myself in our embrace. I will not think.
I will enjoy myself.
[and I will give up this fight]
I tell myself this, and I slowly become aware of the electiricity
running through my body with every thrust of his hips, the fire in my
stomach with every stroke of his hand. Slowly, I begin to enjoy
myself.
['cause I can't make you love me if you don't]
[you can't make your heart feel something that it won't]
The next morning, I rise and dress early, as I always do. Looking
around, I see. The candles have all burned out. The petals have all
been crushed. The demons have all come back.
[here in the dark in these final hours]
[I will lay down my heart]
I walk over to my sleeping friend. At rest, he looks so innocent. He
looks like he might be able to love me. But he doesn't, and he won't.
[and I feel the power]
I lean over and gently kiss his lips. No tears fall.
[but you won't, no you won't]
I walk to the door and hoist the waiting pack to my shoulder. Outside,
I stretch and go to my waiting car. I'm halfway to the next county
before I have to pull over. My hands are shaking and I can't see
through the tears. One tear for every time I said, "I love you."
Still, it soon passes, and I continue driving.
['cause I can't make you love me if you don't]