Title: Dedicated Intoxication
Description: [You're my hypodermic needle. KakaSaku
Pairings: Light KakaSaku
Rating: T
Warnings: None – unless you are against the whole prospect of KakaSaku.
Disclaimer: No ownage
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Set me off like dynamite strapped tight around my waist
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And like my own brand of heroin, you've pulled me under yet again. It feels so coerced and right and wrong and tender that I'm not sure my chapped lips are raw from screaming or from the dry winter air that still whispers through the thin windowpane. My mind goes blank; vibrating white behind my eyelids that feels cool and smooth when I dare to stroke its wavering prisms. But you are red, glorious red and charcoal that's smearing my canvas with delectable splashes of color, of humanity – no matter how artificial it's charm may be.
I told you earlier I wasn't sure how many hourglasses I shattered today – said I lost count after five. You only offered veiled empathy and a shrug, claiming you had lost count as well. You're voice, a gorgeous baritone that slides decadently across my knuckles when you kiss each bone, was a wavering flutter. We both knew that you had remembered each one, down to the last slice and teardrop, because each one kills you.
The air is still filled with stagnant words, still murmuring despite the iridescent sounds of teeth clashing and hands clawing flesh. It's only marginally frightening – because we've both seen so much worse; still flickering past our listless eyes. My heart knows no steady rhythm despite the consistent beat you've created with your tongue lapping against my bottom lip. You're tugging, tugging and I can feel the rawness and helplessness that's hidden beneath the prelude and saliva and enamels. It's so deep, folds and folds of crumpled dreams, like my own broken rainbows. But still you tug and still I moan into your collar bone, whispering sweet lies that I can only hope one day will come true.
My fingers are still numb from poison and blood, but still I caress every contour of flesh I can. I try to memorize the patterns of your skin, burn it forever into my brain so I can selfishly return to it some day far from now.
I told you that I am Irony – a medic that kills to pay the rent.
You disagreed and said that I am Pliable – flexible to fit the times.
It's a good quality to be, you reassured.
We never got around to discover what you were. Desire had lulled for too long and was thrust onto us, making our bodies collide and sweat and feel.
My hand knots in your silver locks and holds on for sweet mercy as you bury your head in the crook of my neck and breathe. My heart waits as you shift so your nose is enveloped within my coral tresses, before it starts to commence its solo beat. I fist my hand tighter, feeling the soft strands hug my slender fingers that have both saved and killed. They are apprehensive for the possibility of a whispered "adieu". But I hold you here, keep you beside me to share your warmth, twisted solace and last essences of humanity.
I said that I lost count at five – we both know it was exactly eleven, but neither of us makes comment.
You trace lazy circles upon my naked shoulder, making up for all the circles beyond the threshold that have been mangled and torn. Your breaths are full and don't hitch as much as you try to connect my sun-dappled freckles into a malformed heart.
I still don't know what you are. No label fits quite right – you have warped sides and cracks.
But I am Irony, so you must be the Catch-22.
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A/N: Drabble with traces of KakaSaku. I haven't done them in a while and I missed them quite so. I have a million more oneshots that I should be working on than writing up this baby in two hours, but I am the quintessence of Procrastination.
Hopefully you get the message sent. I was being very discreet and was focusing on descriptions, leaving the background info (as to how they ended up in their situation) up to the reader to figure out. I kinda wish I made it longer, but I'll leave it as is. Maybe when I'm done with my other projects, I'll rewrite it. Lyrics in the beginning are from Rise Against's Worth Dying For. Superb song. Listen to it.
Reviews are my Muse's muse.
- - H. 92