Title: Story of My Life
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Hunter reflects, Randy chases and Mike soaks in roses.
Warnings: blood
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no harm is meant.
Beta: None, all mistakes are mine.
A/N: Thought I would quit lurking around and actually contribute something to the slash world. Still fairly new to writing in general so feedback is welcome! Enjoy, :)
Acquiescence, I think not...
He could have whatever he wanted. At the snap of his fingers, any and all bowed down and bid his will, no matter what. Whether out of fear, lust or petty love, whatever the viper wanted the viper got.
He was idolized, placed on a pedestal and treated as if he could do no wrong. Even those who he had burned in the past still trailed after him. The kid for when he got a sweet tooth and the animal for when that carnal urge took over.
Hell, even the masses were starting to sway his way. Pretty soon he'd have everyone singing along to his own crazed melody.
Well, almost everyone. There was still one who eluded him, one who refused to join the fan club.
At first it never bothered Randy since he had more than enough playmates to keep him satisfied. But then came the insults and flat out disrespect and things changed. But Randy never saw hatred in those mocking blue eyes, no, quite the contrary actually.
Want, desire, and even need pooled in their depths but his opponent wouldn't be had.
The viper's appetite had been wet but obsession would soon take over. Each of his strikes was either blocked or returned and just when he thought his prey was cornered, the little soldier would slip through a crack and live to fight another day.
Even a man in Randy's position had a breaking point though and it was time to reign himself in before he lost all control.
The chase would continue, however.
Compliance, loyalty and respect would be given, it was only just a matter of time.
**
As love is my witness i swear...
Hunter smiled as he watched Shawn sleep.
15 years later and he was still more beautiful than ever. The gray hair had come, replacing the once lovely golden hue. The wrinkles were now more prominent, the crows feet and laugh lines sticking around long after the joke was over and forgotten.
Old age had turned out to be a cruel mistress, crippling him to the point of having to use a cane and just recently confining him to that awful wheelchair. His only reprieve coming from the fact that he could still push himself around.
The day he would ask for help was still a cold day in hell in Shawn's mind.
Stubborn, yes, but he was also still the kindhearted and good-natured man Hunter had fallen in love with all those years back.
Of course their journey hadn't been a walk in the park. Through good times, which seemed few and far between more often than not, and bad ones which turned the quote "It's hell trying to get to heaven" into an understatement.
So many years fighting for and against each other, celebrating each others wins and mourning each others loses.
But once it was all said and done, he wouldn't trade it for anything.
He was more than content with the hand he'd been dealt. Time now he sat back and enjoyed himself, cause with his husband at his side, not much else mattered.
**
There are 2 words with 7 letters that equal 1 broken heart but carry no damn meaning what so ever...I'm Sorry
Black roses.
Their pedals were all over the place; the bathroom floor, on the counter top, in the sink and even some surrounded the toilet.
Most though, most floated around in the claw-foot tub centered in the middle of the room. It was only filled halfway but the black sea it created was enough.
Mike took a deep breath before stepping in and resting his back against the side facing the door. The water was a cold bite to his skin and matched the way he felt on the inside.
It seemed he was destined to be alone or at least insanely unhappy for the rest of his life. Proof provided in some of his past lovers.
John deciding he'd never be more than a good fuck before leaving him, Jack simply losing interest and Matt treating him as if he was the dark one's own personal punching bag. If that didn't say worthless, he didn't know what did.
As he picked up the knife from beside the tub, he sighed.
There would be those who missed him, like his family and few friends he managed to make, Evan, Cody, and Ted. But to his mind, that wasn't enough.
If he couldn't be loved, cherished and held at night by someone, what was the point.
He turned it over in his hands as he eyed the sharp point, one quick swipe deep enough was all he needed. He closed his eyes as the first tear escaped and he dragged the blade up his arm.
"I'm sorry," he breathed as crimson joined black.
A/N 2: Acquiescence(Passive assent or agreement without protest) is a word i didn't know until i started reading slash, pathetic i know, lol. One of my favorite writers uses it a lot and so i thought would try my hand at it.