Toxic

By: Phoenix Dayze

(Ryuichi/Tatsuha)

NC-17

Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation or its characters, nor do I claim to. Although if a certain dark-haired monk wanted to give himself to me…well, let's just say I wouldn't complain.

Nittle Grasper's Toxic

Early mornings come anew, and with each sunrise I find myself in a crowded space.

The rocking in my head leads to choices I'd rather forget.

But I can't forget myself.

And deep in the scarlet passions that bleed from your skin, I quench the thirst.

I swallow down your poisonous lies as I pretend to feel.

Death is a sweet, sweet remedy to the sickness of the heart.

I'm dying on the inside, a tainted man, cursed by the lust plague of a single shared night.

What lovely fatality—Your love is toxic to me

Pain becomes that much sweeter, every time I bring myself to the source of contagion.

A trembling of weakness that never seems to still.

I can't cure myself.

And lost in the midnight shadows that lurk in your eyes, I catch you again.

You eat away at my flesh like a beautiful disease.

Death is a sweet, sweet remedy to the sickness of the heart.

I'm dying on the inside, a tainted man, cursed by the lust plague of a single shared night.

What lovely fatality—Your love is toxic to me

I'm clawing out my eyes to stop drowning in you.

I'm sweating out the virus as I struggle for truth.

I'm choking on the melodies that my heart sings to you.

I'm dying more and more as I keep on falling…keep on falling for you.

Death is a sweet, sweet remedy to the sickness of the heart.

I'm dying on the inside, a tainted man, cursed by the lust plague of a single shared night.

What lovely fatality—Your love is toxic to me

Death is a sweet, sweet remedy.

What lovely fatality—Your love is toxic to me

I swallow down your poisonous lies as I pretend to feel.

Prologue

The lights flashed. People screamed. There was sweat and tears and buckets of lust. Arousal rippled. There was an amazing high that took the roof from the rafters. Dancing. Grinding. Release of music-induced pheromones. It was Heaven and Hell. It was Nittle Grasper.

There was a boy, barely thirteen, leaning over the rail of his balcony seat. He couldn't get close enough. A hand on his shoulder. A whisper standing out among the masses. "Hey, Kid…" Standing still in the waves of ecstasy. An invitation. A promise that young ears believed.

A dark corner. Magic dust. A burning in untried nostrils. Heartbeat. Sweat. Need. Musical thrill. Soaring on the dark brand bliss.

Hands. Mouth. Confusion. Entreaty. Cold stone. Warm skin. Pain that brings undue maturity. Breaths that nearly drown out the stage. A high price for dreams that won't come true. He won't follow through.

There was a boy, barely thirteen, used, tricked into fate, eyes glazed with hope bought from the devil. And the music plays. And people dance. And a voice penetrates his ears with messages of love that no longer sound quite the same.

Hands on the rail. Tightened grip. He'll be there one day. With heavy eyes and his tainted love. And this ruined existence will have to be enough.

Tbc..