"It's enough to make you hate me."
Title: Choosing Forgiveness
Genre: Angst
Rating: R
Jiro stood in the middle of his bedroom stripped to a pair of black boxers.
Rei attempted to brush past him.
He stepped in front of her, waiting for her to look him in the eye.
She lifted her face with indifference and boredom. "I don't feel like make-up sex."
If Rei were less prideful, she'd be able to admit that they'd both been unnecessarily stubborn for something neither of them cared that much about. It had just been one of those days. If she were more honest, she'd concede that she didn't want make-up sex because she really just wanted to lick her wounds for a couple more hours, irritated at herself and the whole damn thing.
Jiro's curls bounced with a shake of his head. "That's not what this is." He took a breath. "Every time, Rei. Every time we fight, I feel it. I feel you holding it against me." He grasped her arms to emphasize the physicality of it. "You hold it against me. To keep me away and push me back. You take every thing I've done wrong and feel it in that one instant. It's enough to make you hate me."
Rei started to protest without even knowing what words she would use or which part she was protesting.
He wouldn't let her. "What's more, you want me to feel it. You want me to feel unworthy and guilty and traitorous. You want my sorrow and my angst, and I've finally realized why. We've gotten over a lot of things." He wanted to snort. "A lot. But there's a part of you that still hates me for things I've done."
The back of his fingers caressed her cheek when she looked away, allowing him his tirade, allowing her the truth.
"I thought love was forgiveness. I thought love would phase it out. But love's just burying it deeper and deeper, and when it comes out, it's angrier, furious. I can't live worrying that you'll hate me the day I forget to take out the trash. You can't love me and hate me, Rei. You have to choose."
Rei let the words wash over her, grasping and holding them to her. In a manner of minutes, he'd ripped out what she'd been hiding, given it voice, and now she had to make a choice on something she already thought she had.
He cupped her cheek to touch her, not to look at her. "Anything you want to do to me, do tonight."
Rei wrenched herself away. How dare he offer her something like that! Something so wretched and primal and so desperately needed.
With gentle hands, he brought her back, his touch cool and light on her heated flush.
"This is how we forgive."
When she finally looked at him, she feared she would look eager, but she saw that he needed this just as much as she did. She wanted to hurt him, and he wanted to suffer.
"What if-"
"Then remember you love me," he said lightly, running fingertips over her face. "Love me more than you hate me."
He backed himself onto the bed, allowing Rei to straddle him. She stared down at his stomach, flattening her hands against the muscle, eyes fixated on the flesh. She waited for something to trigger in him, so he would know that this was wrong and unnecessary and ridiculous-
Was she mad at the suggestion? Because she wanted to? Because he wanted it too?
They should be over it; it should be behind them. They'd started out slow: she'd been cautious; he'd been patient. They'd built a tentative relationship, and Rei had finally felt it solidifying. But a building didn't become strong on it's own: it was built strong.
Were they?
Their precarious world teetered on a wobbly foundation. Rei knew he was right; sometimes, she was scared she hated him. Wrath bubbled up in remembrance at the slightest thing, and though she never said a word, he'd felt it.
But he didn't want to just feel it. He wanted to see it, taste it, and be consumed by it. He wanted to look her in the eye and let her hate him. He wanted her to let the beast out, and he wanted her to kill it at the same time.
So, she tried. She bit hard, scratched deep, and handled roughly. Her holds bruised, her touch burned, and her nails scored red upon his body. She took for herself without contemplating his pleasure, or his pain for that matter. She dominated with anger and sorrow, and she hoped that it hurt him as much as it pleased her.
Her pleasure was guilt-ridden and wrathful. When she finally collapsed, she shuddered with the emotional exhaustion of it all.
She curled slightly, staring at his chest, and traced a scratch she had made.
"Jiro-"
He shushed her, bringing the sheet over their bodies. He moved gingerly, slowly and with small movements.
Her eyes shut, as his arms surrounded her. Later, she would wonder if he felt those few tears that squeezed themselves out. Forever, she would remember:
"I wouldn't love you any other way."
end