Hi there! Lady Borealis here! :)
This is my first D.Gray-man story and I'm really nervous and excited about it! I have loved this series for a couple of years now but was too afraid to write a fic of my own about it, still don't know why...
Anyway this is a Yullen one-shot and is a yaoi (but not so graphic), so if you have any problem with that I will suggest you to press the back button. And is a Yullen one, because is my fav pairing of the whole series! Though I practically like most of the pairings, this one is at the top... by far!
And I must warn you, English is not my birth language.
Disclaimer: No, I do not own D.Gray-man!
"bla" talking
It's all from Allen's POV
Enjoy!
Burned
By Lady Borealis
Hot.
A suffocating heat like flames licking my insides.
That was all I could feel in the clammy and dark hallway, pressed up against the cold stone wall.
Hot.
A particularly hard thrust makes my head bump into the stone. I wince slightly at the pain, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of being ripped apart from the inside. And I'm not talking only about the physical pain, I have endured far worse things than this, but of a soul breaking pain eating me up every time I let those flames burn me.
And I can't help it.
I can't stop it.
I can't stop you...
That look in your eyes... it should never belong there.
And it hurts me to see that look in your eyes, it hurts this fire you set in me. It hurts because you don't like me. It hurts because I don't like it, not like this, because I should have put a stop a long time ago. But I couldn't.
I gasp as you bite my shoulder. Hard. You lick the blood from where the skin broke and I can feel your smirk against the tender flesh. You need this, you need to hurt, to break, so it never crosses the barrier between physical relief and emotional attachment. Because is not like you to have an emotional attachment with anyone and this is just a physical relief to all the strain our work as exorcists puts on you.
Because you don't like me.
Why? Why does it have to be always like this? When have this fire started? Moreover... will it ever be extinguished? I find it difficult to believe so...
The temperature around us is rising considerably, locks of wet hair plaster themselves in my face and the air I breathe feels warmer than usual. My once clean shirt is also wet with sweat and its wrinkled were it meets your uniform. Of course, not even when having sex does your immaculate image change, and that's something that bothers me. I know this is just an escape from the harsh reality, but I can't help but wish you would get more involved in it. I want you to also hurt. To feel the same fire that burns me every time we find ourselves in this situation.
I reach out with my innocence-free hand and pull your hair free from the ponytail.
You stop moving inside me and raise your head as your long dark mane falls down your back and over your shoulders. And in that instant that our eyes lock I can see that same emotion I hate, that deep pain that prevents me to stop this fire. That lost look that just doesn't fit you. But this time there were other things swimming in those endless black pools. It seems that my action has caused some reaction in you. And you are fighting it. You're fighting those new emotions trying to reach the surface.
Let them out.
Let me see them.
A feral growl is the only warning I got before your thrusts resume with an almost brutal force.
I moan out loud. The pain, the pleasure, its all mixing together and I can't define where one begins and the other ends. I wrap my legs tighter around your waist and grab a fistful of that midnight black hair almost desperately. The heat keeps rising. Your hold on me is oh so painful and your harsh breath is caressing my ear in a sensual rhythm.
The heat is suffocating.
Your face is hiding from me, resting in the crook of my shoulder so I can't see your eyes anymore, so I'm reduce to hear your ragged breathing, to feel you pulsating inside me. I'm reduced to this bittersweet agony of which I can't find a way out.
Two lone tears escape from my eyes.
It burns.
Oh God how it burns.
Something warm and wet follows the trail of a tear right back to my eye. I didn't realize I have closed them. And now I'm looking right into your eyes.
A corner of your mouth is slightly upward, a small smirk of satisfaction probably from the pain you tasted in my tear. You bastard. You're enjoying this, seeing me like this and I hate you for that. I hate you. I hate you because... because I...
And suddenly that smirk of your is gone. Your mouth is set on a thin line of concentration and your eyes are glaring at me with a hardness I haven't seen before. And you keep thrusting into me, as if trying to go even deeper inside of me. Your nails are digging so hard into my thighs that I'm sure it will leave scars for a couple of days. But it doesn't matter to me. Because I'm drowning.
I'm drowning in your fire.
This is too much.
"Look at me"
For the second time I didn't realize I have closed my eyes, but all this emotions and this fire swirling in me are too much to handle. But for the first time since this thirsts started you talked to me. Your usually firm and rich voice sounds so unguarded and ragged, but with that commanding tone that it's impossible to say no. So I did as you told me.
A cry gets stuck in my throat.
Is like a clash of silver and coal.
And your glare is so hard and penetrating. It feels as if you are daring me; daring me to do, to say something. Daring me to stop this, to stop you. Daring me to just say it. To say that I hate you. To say that I don't want to do this anymore. To say that I...
But everything that comes out from my mouth is a strangled moan.
For a reason I do not know this infuriates you greatly as you thrust into me furiously and your glare is almost venomous now. The only thing I can do is to hold on tight and let you burn me and get consumed by your fire.
Suddenly the heat is melting everything away.
And then I can't feel anything but the scorching fire, I can't see anything but your deep dark eyes.
Just as suddenly the fire is dying out and I'm left holding onto you, gasping for much needed air in the cold hallway of the Dark Order. The heat is starting to dissipate, but still I can feel it somehow where our bodies are connected, softly pulsating inside of me. This I enjoy. This moment between fully coming back to reality and staying in that tingling warmness. Is actually in this moment than a connection can actually be made. But of course, that's asking too much, isn't it? You cold bastard.
With your uncaring attitude you pull out of me and release me once I can stand on my own. I look down and see the mess my shirt is, thankfully with my vest I can hide it, though I will take a bath as soon as possible. However, what it will be difficult to hide is my wince every time I make a bad movement, like bending down to pull up my pants. God it hurts.
It takes me a couple of minutes to get myself decent enough, though but that time you are already immaculate, even your hair is back to his usual ponytail. Not even a drop of perspiration in your face, nor wrinkled uniform. Nothing. It seems as if nothing have happened.
And there you are, standing in front of me.
Glaring at me.
Almost as if I were at fault for something I don't even know.
Muttering something under your breath I cannot understand, you turn around and walk away. Your fading steps echoing in the stone hallway.
I hate it. I hate that look, I hate not knowing, I hate this!
But what I hate the most is missing that fire.
"Hey, beansprout!"
I'm suddenly brought back to reality as a familiar voice calls out that stupid pet name you gave me. I turn angry eyes at my red-haired friend running at me.
"It's Allen!"
His only visible eye is twinkling mischievously as he reaches me and gives me a one-arm hug.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding" he squeezes me as a sign of friendship and some of my anger simply fades away "by the way, have you seen Yuu?"
I try not to tense up, after all Lavi is a very perceptive person, not for nothing is he the successor of Bookman. But thankfully I spent a couple of years with General Cross, so acting it comes natural to me.
"No, I haven't. Why?"
"I've heard that only he and Marie came back from their mission. All the finders are dead and Marie is badly hurt. Even though he doesn't show it, Yuu is always affected by these things, so I wanted to see how was he doing"
This time I can't help but feel down. I don't care if Lavi notices it, I simply don't care.
Because obviously you don't care.
How could I possibly have know that? You never told me. You never told me anything about you. I know nothing about you. You don't let me get close to you. You just use me for your own benefit. I'm merely your stress relief. I hate you for that. I hate you because you have lit this fire in me... and I feel like I can't keep going without feeling it melt everything away.
"It's ok, I will go see if he's at the cafeteria. See ya beansprout!"
I have no time to react as Lavi races down the hallway to the cafeteria.
And once again I'm standing alone in the cold stone hallway.
Hundred of thoughts are racing in my head, a thousands of feelings and things left unsaid. If only you would let me help you, you cold bastard. If only you can let your guard down for a bit, insensitive asshole. There are people who care about you! If only you could open your eyes and see what you have in front of you! If only... if only I was strong enough to say all the things I keep to myself.
I sigh defeated and slowly walk back to my room, a few locks of white hair hiding my tired eyes from view.
A single tear falls to the floor.
If only I can put a stop to all this.
But I just can't.
For I'm burned.
Well, how was it?
Like it? Hate it? I would really appreciate if you take a moment to leave me a review. Constructive criticism is always welcome, flames are just a waste of time. And if you don't want to, thanks anyway for reading my story!
Ta ta for now!
Lady Borealis.-
