Title: a screaming comes across the sky
Author:
tasteslikemiso
Characters/Pairings: Shirosaki/Tatsuki
Rating: T; sex things
Word count: 440
Notes: Title taken from the October 1, 2005 prompt for 31_days.
Summary: Darkness shelters their uneasy peace.


Halfway home, she catches him idly wandering around by the river. There are no streetlights anywhere, she calls out to him with the wrong name. He says nothing, she starts to turn away when she realizes it isn't him. Not Ichigo, never Ichigo. "Afraid of me?" he baits her, and she rises to it.

"I just don't have anything to say to you. I thought you were someone else."

He grins, but it's all theater. "Let me guess, Ichigo?" The name comes out like a curse. "Couldn't have been more wrong, darling."

Her eyes are looking past him, already searching for a way out of the conversation. He grabs her arm to get her attention, and she jerks back as if she'd been burned.

His self-restraint snaps with a great invisible crash and in an instant he is pressed in close to her, practically snarling in her face. He can smell her fear, and it gives him a rush, the power he has over her. But the fear isn't complete, not yet, because there is something weak and emotional in her that sees him and dreams Ichigo, clinging to the familiarity of his face.

"It kills you doesn't it? He doesn't see you and there's nothing you can do." She tries to catch him unawares with her left and he rebuffs it easily, grabbing her tightly as she fights him for every inch. They tumble to the ground together, as he tries to restrain her without hurting her. Another nuisance he damns Ichigo for. Who the fuck cares if her arm breaks? It's happened before.

He looks down at the girl writhing under him, hating her too for getting under his skin like this, for reminding him that to her and everyone else, he will always be lesser. Suddenly he is kissing her furiously, escaping into lust and driven to take something back. Dark all around them and she is pressing back into the kiss, slowly he moves to nip at the curve of her neck.

The blue shadows of emptying day have deepened into black, he is bleached white to the bone. She moans softly "Shiro," he wants to tear her out of her clothes. He leaves bruises spreading across her pale skin, marking her body with his teeth and tongue.

They have begun to move together, bodies drawing tighter and tighter. Their limbs knot together, lips frantic to reach each other, speeding closer towards the way out.

Sundays with no traffic, few cars pass by the river, and they are far enough from the road to escape notice. Sirens blare in the distance of the desolate city.