Manipulative
Moha-Samedi lay on his side, breathing in gasps as he pressed his burning cheek to the pillow, cooling down after... after he didn't want to think about what. He could feel the Trickster's body against his own as they lay back-to-back in the dark of Moha's room... or was it Trickster's room? He couldn't remember. Everything was a blur, yet again.
Trickster smiled himself to the darkness, satisfied. He did so love seducing his poor, uptight narrator. What was the point of living if you never stretched your boundaries?
But as he listened to Samedi's breathing, he could hear the gasping turn into choking, half-stifled sobs. He turned over. "What's the matter, narrator?" he whispered. His voice glided like ice over the emcee's skin, and Moha shuddered convulsively.
"You know damn well what's wrong," he hissed. "O'm nothing but a toy to you. You think that it's a game to knock me out and hurt me and make me lose control of myself. I hate you. Trickster."
The words were childish, but the tone was so full of exhausted venom that Trickster's smile found itself unable to grow more than halfway. "You hate me, do you?" His fingers curled their way around the base of Moha's neck, where it met with his shoulder. Moha's breath hissed out. "Yes. Stop. Please stop. You know I'm straight. I don't want you, I don't want any man. Stop doing this to me."
"Mmm... so you don't care for me, Moha?"
"Why should I?"
"Because... because I show you things that you would never dream possible. Because I understand you like no one else does."
"You treat me like one of your puppets. I am nothing to you."
Trickster closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying not to show Moha that he had been hurt. "Is that what you think, my narrator?"
"Yes. Why else would you do this to me?"
Trickster buried his face in the space between Moha's neck and shoulder, making the emcee shiver again at the touch on his bare skin. "Because I love you."
The sheer velvet heat of his voice stopped Moha-Samedi cold. He had never heard the Trickster say anything like that to him before.
"So you'll..." He swallowed. "You'll seduce me and leave me, like you did to your Trapeze for the hoop manipulator, like you did to her for me... who will you leave me for?"
"No one. I did not leave them, narrator. Trapeze... grew out of me, and Hula was never interested in romance. I was, I am her assistant, nothing more. Do you understand?"
There was no answer. Trickster turned the narrator's head toward him. "Moha?"
Moha let his limbs go limp. He'd tried fighting already. It was no use. Not fighting physically. "You treat me as if I am only a challenge to be achieved, seduce the straight-man narrator and make him fall for you... and then -" his voice cracked - "-drop him... I hate you. I will not."
"...So that's what you're afraid of? My dropping you? Moha." The Trickster's mouth grabbed his in a long kiss, which Trickster broke away from suddenly, levering himself up on his elbow. "I am a manipulative bastard, Moha. That's how I'm made. And I will continue to be a manipulative bastard. Because you're right. I'm not used to dealing with people with free will. I can control anyone. And sometimes I forget that some other people are not mine. But I never forgot with you, narrator. I stretch your boundaries for your sake, so that you can learn that limitations don't exist. And if you fall for me, my narrator, I will always catch you. Always. I will not let you fall."
"This is just another trick..." Moha's voice was almost inaudible, to anyone but a Trickster.
"No. It is not. I swear to you by my soul, if I have one, or by Kooza, or Mystere, or your gods, or anything you value, that I love you and I will never let you fall."
"You... love me?" Moha whispered.
"I do, narrator." The Trickster's arms encircled Moha-Samedi. "I truly do. Now sleep... and dream of me."
A/N: First of all. Whatever you are thinking about the events just prior to this fanfiction, DON'T. I stick to the Solstrom-mergence-is-as-far-as-this-two-go code. Solstrom mergence. That's all. 'Kay?
Second of all, this started out as a drabble and then got a little longer. It's inspired by Zikka-chan's fic Haunted, I wanted it to have that kind of an atmosphere... I d'know, I blushed furiously the whole time I was typing it up, but I don't hate it. And... *shrug* I wanted to call it, well, you know, but there's a language restriction on fanfic titles... XD