A/N:
Lyrics: "Burned is the House" ~ Alkaline Trio
Song in Chapter Title: "Spit it Out" ~IAMX
Sequel to Pink, please read that before you read this story or you just might be a bit lost.
Notes:
I'm not going to have as much exposition/background in this story as in Pink. This is a continuation, so keep in mind that everything that had happened in Pink reflects on everything that is happening here.
The first two chapters are going to reintroduce you to some of our dear old friends, and give you a little taste of what their life has become. It's been two years, after all…
After that, we will get into the deep and gritty and kick start the plot, rabidly. Now, of course, that doesn't mean these first chapters are nothing but useless introductions in reference to what will be the rest of the story.
Much like Pink, I'm not going to hold your hand through BMI. You've all already proven yourselves to be sharp enough to put two and two together, and you have, believe me. Oh, I won't be making it easy for you, that wouldn't be fair at all.
Much like Pink, BMI continues to be an experiment in styles, discovery, absence and the negative and positive, and, well, life.
That scene at the end? Well, enjoy it while you can. We'll see when the next chance pops up.
Here's a bit of a tip: Think of mirrors, realistically and figuratively. Think of what they might mean. Continue thinking about them throughout this story.
As always, I'd love to hear any theories, speculations, ideas you all have about the story.
If you have questions, send them my way as well. If the answers won't compromise the plot, I will respond.
Enjoy friends!
Title: Baptize Me In
Author: Zoshi the Confused
Rating: Ranging, mostly PG-PG13
Category: South Park
Genre: Angst/eventual tragedy
May contain: Shounen-Ai/Boy Love, Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing
But we can never come back here again
We can only hope
To forget
The sky was heavy with clouds, gray bottomed and stretching from horizon to horizon. The wind crooned in his ears, a low sad sound. It echoed around the hollow in his chest, and he gripped at his shirt with one shaking hand. His stomach was in his throat, and he could taste bile on his tongue. His eyes followed a lone bird in flight, a line of dark gray floating on buoyant winds.
The vastness surrounding him terrified him; the emptiness threatened to overcome him, tip him off balance and off the world. The world surrounded him, but there was nothing in it, reflected above and below. He swallowed thickly, his senses whirling, his eyes unfocused.
The leaden sky shuddered over his head.
He dropped.
I buried my face deeper into the pillow. Whoever had thought of the sun coming up at seven in the morning was an asshole, and if I ever met them I'd be sure to tell them in a very angry and threatening manner. It was a Wednesday, sure, but the bed was much too warm to leave, and I had taken the day off of work, after all. I really couldn't think of any reason why I needed to be out of bed this damn early. I had just managed to start drifting off into the dream world when a shrill screech made me jump; groaning I reached out an arm and slapped at the alarm clock until it shut up. Seven thirty. Still too early.
With another groan I turned over, arms reaching out towards the warmth of the body sharing the bed with me. Or, as the empty air between my hands indicated, the body that had been sharing the bed with me but no longer was. I cracked open an eye to see nothing but rumpled forest green sheets in front of me. I patted the spot next to me; still warm, but just barely. Grumbling, I sat up finally and rubbed at my face. The sun was way too bright, even through the blinds.
With a yawn I dragged myself out of bed, stumbling over my feet as I headed towards the bedroom door. In the attempt to not walk into the corner of the dresser I managed to walk into the side of the door as I opened it instead.
"Goddammit," I muttered, rubbing my side. So, I lacked a little coordination in the morning. Raking my fingers through my hair, I made my way to the kitchen area of the apartment, the scent of fried eggs and coffee growing stronger at each step.
"Why the hell are you a morning person?" I groaned, grabbing a chair and scooting it over next to Red where he sat the small table. I dropped into it, leaned over to put my chin on his shoulder and scowled at him. "You suck so much."
Red's reply was a raised eyebrow and a cool look. He picked up his black mug, the one with "Amish Boy" painted across it in my crappy handwriting, and held it up to my lips. I growled, bypassing the mug and pressing my face against his neck and closing my eyes. He smelled good. He always smelled good. Something like a mix of exotic spices and honey. With a sigh I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled myself closer.
"I don't want coffee…" I muttered, my lips moving across his skin. I felt him shiver, and I grinned.
"You're starting early today…" Red set the mug down on the table and turned his head towards me. I pulled back a little so I could look into his hot, hot eyes. He grinned slightly, and I leaned forward, pressed my forehead against his and closed my eyes as I pressed my lips against his –
Fingers.
I opened my eyes to find him looking at me with an amused little grin.
"What?" I asked, my lips still pressed against his fingers because, after all, I had no aversion towards any part of his body.
"Milk," Red said, folding his fingers down so only one remained, which he used to tap me on the chin. "And eggs."
"What?" I asked, a little more puzzled than the first time.
"A chicken, but not too big." He put the lone finger to my lips to keep me from repeating the question, and his eyes floated somewhere up and to the right. "And… some lemons, and green beans – fresh, not frozen. And some apples."
I stared at him, but he gave me a hard look and frowned, just a bit.
"You said you were going to go to the store four days ago…"
"But… I, I forgot…"
"We are not going to be living off of McDonald's and Instant Ramen for the rest of the week, or however long it takes you to remember…" Red said firmly, his hand dropping to the table. I sputtered for a bit, pulled my arms away from his waist and leaned back a little.
"You… You… You are such a girl sometimes," I glared at him, poking at his shoulder. It wasn't exactly the most imaginative insult ever; I wasn't exactly at my most creative at eight in the morning.
Red's head tilted, just a bit, his eyes narrowed, and his face got that certain look to it, that one, certain look. My skin went cold all of a sudden, a good kind of cold. A tingle ran down my spine, and my breath tried to speed up without my permission.
"We'll see about that after you get back from the store…" His voice was low; an alluring smile spread across his face. I placed my hand over his, pressed down hard on it as I stood up, grinning at him.
"Oh, we will…"
Half an hour later I found myself wandering around the Jewel-Osco at the edge of North Park, shopping basket in hand. There were seven different types of milk in the dairy case, and I wasn't sure which one I should take. Vitamin D, Calcium Enriched, Skim… I sighed, ran my fingers through my still damp hair, and glared hard at the white gallons. Closing my eyes, I waved my hand around in front of me, and stepped forward. Grabbing the first gallon I touched, I stepped back and opened my eyes again. Skim. I grimaced, put the jug back in its place and grabbed a gallon of reduced-fat.
Fine, there was the milk. Next were the eggs, the brown ones with no artificial whatevers in them. I played eenie-meenie-minie-mo with three plastic containers and ended up with the free-range organic in hand. Pricey, but worth it. I placed the eggs in the basket next to the milk and headed on down the aisle, humming along with the music playing over the speakers. The faster I got done with the shopping, the faster – and I grinned at the thought – I got to get home. Just one problem; I couldn't remember just what the rest of the list was. I stopped at the head of the aisle and stared down at the gallon of milk and case of eggs, trying hard to remember just what I was supposed to get. Something… something round, maybe? Oranges? No, Red hated oranges. Peaches? Apricots… no, ap… apples? Apples, apples just might have been on the list. I started down the aisle again.
"Stan?"
I froze, still staring at the pasta sauce/pizza dough/fruit snacks display in front of me. I could have pretended I didn't hear her, but that might not have worked, considering her voice sounded pretty close behind me. I could have just not turned around, although that might just have, probably, made me look like an ass or something. I put on the best smile I could muster and turned around slowly.
"Hi, Mom," I managed a little wave with the hand not currently holding a shopping basket.
My mom's eyes brightened just a little. She was smiling, and it was genuine, but uncertain at the same time. She had her own basket on her arm, a loaf of toast and green beans – green beans! – and a few cans of something I couldn't quite make out.
"It's been a while," Mom fidgeted a little with her basket, her fingers tightening and loosening around the plastic of the handle.
"Yeah," I answered. I could feel my smile slipping a little; there was a bad taste in my mouth. For a moment I stood there looking towards her but not at her. I could feel her eyes on my face; I was sure she was looking me over good and well. I'd dressed in all of five minutes, and with my wrinkled second-day tee shirt and the jeans that hadn't seen a washer in over a month, I was sure I looked like a sorry case. Dammit.
"How… how are you doing?" Mom asked finally, her voice fluttering a little. I shrugged, cleared my throat.
"Good, you know. Pretty good." I said, shifting my weight to my other foot. "It's good."
"That… That's good." Mom nodded, her smile growing wider without growing brighter.
An awkward silence followed, filled the air with heaviness. The store seemed even emptier than it had earlier; it seemed like we were the only two customers, standing there four feet away from each other, at the edges of a much larger chasm.
"Well…" I began, switched the shopping basket to my other hand. Mom started, as if she'd been lost in thought, and her smile faltered a little.
"Right, well, I'll… I'll see you around, then?" Her voice rose a pitch higher towards the end. I nodded.
"Sure, yeah." I managed more of a heartfelt grin, and she gave me a wave and turned away. I stared ahead at the shelf full of mayonnaise as I heard her steps echoing down the aisle. My head was pleasantly full of static.
The sudden vibration in my pants' pocket brought me back down to earth. I pulled my phone out and glanced at the caller ID as I pressed the talk button.
"Hey KB," I grinned, turning and heading down the aisle.
"D-Do you know i-it's been exactly two y-years since you th-threw yourself to t-t-the wolves?" Kyle asked, all seriousness. I laughed.
"As a matter of fact, I do," I smirked, slowing down by the meats. If I remembered correctly I was supposed to get something from there.
"I h-have a p-present for you two," Kyle continued. I heard rock music playing in the background.
"Do you, now?" Chicken, that's what I needed.
"I do," Kyle answered.
"And it is what?" I held the cell phone to my ear with one shoulder and started digging through the chickens.
"I will n-not let myself int-to your apartment with my s-spare keys and d-d-dump ice water over y-your heads as you're f-f-fucking each other's brains o-out in the living r-room with the b-blinds c-closed," Kyle sounded pleased with himself. I fumbled a roaster and nearly dropped the cell phone as I started laughing.
"Are, heh, are you going to tell Red that too?" I asked, fixing my hold on the cell phone and trying not to break out laughing again.
"Already did," Kyle said, "T-told me I'm w-welcome with the i-ice w-w-water after everything's over and d-done."
I did drop the phone that time, breaking into laughter and leaning on the meat cooler to keep myself standing. I ignored the shocked look of the old lady a few feet away and attempted to get myself breathing properly again. Leaning over, I picked up the phone and put it back to my ear, still chuckling.
"Chicken," Kyle said, and I had no idea what he was talking about.
"What?" I frowned, staring at the naked, refrigerated poultry in front of me.
"Chicken," Kyle repeated, and then continued, "L-lemons, apples, g-g-green beans."
"And eggs and milk," I finished for him.
"F-f-figured you'd remember th-those," He chuckled. I heard a door open and the rock music grow louder. "God d-damn, roomie n-needs to find his f-f-fucking hearing aid. S-seriously. And w-what do you need a ch-chicken for anyway?"
"Red wanted it," I said, digging into the chickens again. The ones on top looked all bruised and… handled.
"Can't do anything k-kinky with a ch-chicken," Kyle said matter-of-factly, "Not unless y-you want s-s-almonella or something…"
"Sick dude," I grimaced, pulling a medium sized chicken out from under the pile. It looked decent enough. "Red's been watching the food network again."
"Sucks t-to be you t-then," Kyle snorted. I rolled my eyes.
"Shut up," I tossed the chicken in the basket and moved further along in the store. "What else was I supposed to get?"
"Fuck, y-you're hopeless, aren't you?" Kyle sighed. I heard plastic crinkling in the background. The rock music was fading again, and a door closed. "Lemons. A-apples. Green b-beans."
"Lemons, apples, green beans," I repeated it to myself a few times.
"G-guess Red's right, c-c-concussions are b-bad for memory," Kyle laughed.
"Yeah, keep laughing, you never know when I'll conveniently forget that my fist is not supposed to meet your face," I growled. An empty threat, I knew it, he knew it. Kyle continued laughing. I sighed, and walked towards the produce department. Lemons, apples, green beans… and then, home.
There's something very intoxicating about leather, the smell and the feel of it. It has something musky going on, something deep and rugged in it. It assaults the senses and makes a total mess of everything. It gives just the right way over muscles and joints, curves perfectly around wrists and ankles and necks. It's amazing.
The straps were tight around my wrists. The edges threatened to cut into my skin with each movement. My fists dug into the small of my back beneath me. I flexed my arms, felt the burn of tension in the muscles all the way up to my shoulders. The room was dark, but dozens of flickering candles threw shadows on the walls and the ceiling. The room felt hot. The leather collar around my neck was heavy against my neck, reassuring. I shifted my head, felt it slide just half an inch across my skin, its edges rough, uneven.
Through half-lidded eyes I looked across my body to where Red sat between my bare, spread legs, black knee-high buckled boots on him and nothing else because god damn I loved watching his body move with the candlelight accentuating his every line down to the dip of his hipbone and the curve of his kneecap. He held the end of the leather leash attached to my collar in his left hand, and slowly, slowly, he started twisting it around his hand, the tension growing until I could feel the collar pulling at the back of my neck. I gurgled something that was half-way between a whimper and a moan and Red smiled, sultry and enticing. I shifted my body; I could feel him, his heat, between my knees, but the cuffs on my ankles and the rod between them wouldn't let me close them on him.
His right hand touched my knee, fingers spider-light against my skin. Fire shot from each spot he touched, each place he trailed his fingertips along. His hand moved, painfully slow, down the length of my thigh. I was breathing hard, watching as his fingers reached the base of my hardened cock and - fuck – and wrapped around it, and his hand was moving over it, and his thumb was rubbing against that one spot right beneath the head and I was doing my goddamn best to keep from moving except that I did, just a shudder. His fingers tightened around my shaft in response, tight and hard, too hard, and it felt so good. I closed my eyes and bit my lip to keep from moaning and to keep from moving, bucking my hips.
His hand left my cock suddenly, and I let out a small whimper. I could feel him shift on the bed, could feel the leash go slack, and opened my eyes to see he had moved over me, knees to either side of my hips. He stretched out over me, pressed against me. I could feel his chest move against me with each of his breaths, could feel his cock, hard and wet, against my abs. His face was above mine, his eyes burning, and when he dropped his lips to mine I opened my mouth eagerly, tongue reaching to meet his own.
Stars exploded somewhere inside me, a blaze erupted, and I pressed my body against his as best I could, felt his fingers tightening in my hair. I breathed him in, tasted him, shuddered, drank him in. He was familiar and dangerous and hot and I felt safe. I always felt safe.
Our lips parted; I hadn't realized I was forgetting to breathe. His eyes met mine, and he smiled, genuine and real and wholly true, and my heart hurt; it was too small, it couldn't hold it all.
He leaned forward again, pressed his forehead against mine, and I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of his breath on my lips. His voice was soft; it spoke to my soul.
"Happy anniversary, Love…"