Clear As?
He was led in to what could well have been the most decadent prison cell the world had ever seen. With a slight stammer, a nervous looking guard stated to its sole occupant, "I'll be back in 30 minutes Mr. Gavin, sir" and then proceeded to speedily secure the lock that would seal the two brothers in. Klavier briefly smirked to himself before flashing his set of heart-stealing, pearly whites to the gentleman; after all, it was well known by many that one of Klavier Gavin's main goals in life was to utterly charm whomever he met, even including lowly prison workers: "Danke" he winked, before sauntering over to the figure in the plush armchair.
"So, been here only 3 months and look whose Lord of the Manor, ja? I'm glad to see some things never change".
His brother made no reply, save the slow turning of a book page with a graceful hand as he continued to read. Klavier's smile slipped and his heart shrank, for as the minutes slipped away, he found himself thoroughly ignored. Sighing, he sadly watched the only movement the other man was making: his hands turning the book pages. Oh those beautiful hands, armed with perfectly pristine nails; nails that Klavier could remember all too well scraping the skin on his neck, his throat, in heated sessions of passion…
Kristoph was as immaculate as ever, not a single crease in his fine suit nor a soft, golden hair out of place. But he was thinner, and with his face down turned to focus upon the text before him, the overhanging light illuminated his high, and now, even more pronounced cheek bones, and the dark circles of fatigue that lay under his eyes. Breathtaking though, still a God. A God sitting perfectly poised, with one long leg stylishly draped over the other, his entire body a contrived pose of relaxed elegance, his handsome face a gentle mask. Like almost everything Kristoph did: it was a lie. A carefully sculpted; beautiful lie, and one only someone whom had observed and experienced them nearly their whole lives could detect.
Klavier found tears searing his eyes, "Kristoph…"
Finally after what seemed an aeon, long fingers clamped the book cover shut, and cold blue eyes slowly roved upwards.
Klavier's vision blurred, all but for two burning crystals. Twin pools of ice blue, totally unreadable, and untainted by any thoughts or emotions that bubbled in the mind's great lake. Impenetrable eyes which always did the penetrating. They bored holes in to Klavier.
"Yes brother of mine, as you so ably pointed out to me three months ago, apparently I never change." It was spoken eloquently, lightly, with an expressionless face; yet somehow menace reverberated in every syllable.
Klavier could barely retain a shudder.
"However, you did not seem so glad of it back then." Each word was like a frozen bolt for Klavier, thrown with startling accuracy; in all his life, Kristoph had never been so cold with him.
He could not handle this. Kristoph, his only love, the only one who understood him; it was Kristoph who raised him when their parents had died, it was Kristoph who bought him his first guitar, and it was Kristoph who encouraged him with his music…and as always, it was Kristoph who was in control. And Kristoph knew. Kristoph always knew.
Kristoph…Kristoph…Kristoph…
"I love you." He whispered involuntarily.
A bitter, sarcastic sneer – his sibling's first sign of emotion, "Of course you do."
Allowing tears to freely fall, Klavier stood and silently wept. He knew that it would not be a joyous reunion, but he had not expected this.
There were many reasons why he had waited three months until he saw his brother again. The first and foremost, he knew the hate and anger that Kristoph would feel, and hoped that three months would be sufficient time to allow these feelings to abate, he would have waited longer, but he simply could not bear the separation for one more day.
Despite appearances of being a very shallow creature, (which at times he was), Klavier was an extremely empathetic person. For example, he understood that it was not Kristoph's fault that he had killed those people because…Kristoph wasn't like other people. At a glance, any fool could see that. Kristoph was far too composed and sophisticated to be one of the mere mortal crowds. But it was something else. Something that lived inside of Kristoph's soul that Klavier could not put his finger on, nor put in to words. It was the dead, dullness that fogged his brother's eyes when he withdrew from himself; it was the feral flash that occurred at odd times. For example, once during a particularly violent lovemaking session when the Kristoph that Klavier knew left him completely.
"Kr-Kr-Kristoph! Kristoph you're hurting me." Yelled Klavier in surprise as his brother's thrusts suddenly sped up. But Kristoph did not seem to hear, instead he pounded, slammed in to Klavier with an animal like rage.
"Brother! You're hurting me!" Knuckles whitening, Klavier gripped the silken bed sheets for dear life. But his brother did not desist; instead, his penetrations became inhumanly harder and faster. Back arching, he felt sense draining him, but this was not pleasure, nor pleasure tinted with a little pain; this was pure torture. Screaming, he looked up to see his brother's face. Kristoph was gone. His face contorted in to a beastly snarl. His eyes narrowed and glinting. Terrified, Klavier felt his breath catching in his throat as it became difficult to breathe. Then all of a sudden he felt the sharp talons of his brother, clawing red tracks down his torso.
He couldn't take it anymore, with one last final scream that could shatter eardrums; he came, yelling his brother's name, and then all went black.
Confusedly, he slowly returned to consciousness. It took some time for the sights he observed to have any clarity: his bleeding chest, the large puddle of red he was lying in and the previously clean covers, now redecorated with the patterns of splattered semen and blood.
But what was this? Warm splashes of water were landing on him.
Was it raining?
Looking up, he saw droplets falling from his sibling's face as he kneeled over him.
Biting his lip, he imagined once again, what it must be like for his brother, his soul mate, to be betrayed by the sole person he loved and trusted.
But, what Klavier did not know was that Kristoph did not love anybody. That Kristoph was incapable of loving anybody. He loathed the world and all its inhabitants; with a black and smouldering hatred. But the largest portion of this hate he saved especially for himself, whom he loathed most of all. He concealed and protected this self-hate with a shield of selfishness. A mental situation carved completely of irony. None the less, if Kristoph could love someone, it would be Klavier, the only person he actually gave a damn about. Certainly, he loved him to the very best that his abilities would allow.
"Kristoph! This only hurts so much because we both love each other so much!"
Kristoph, turned his head to the side, a spasm of pain gracing his features,
"The brighter the flame of your love – the, the more painful the burns!", Klavier continued.
This little outburst wrung a wry smile from Kristoph, oh his lyrical, noble, so deliciously innocent little brother, perhaps he was correct: perhaps some things never did change, particularly people.
He pushed his glasses up his nose, "My, my now whose feeling philosophical today, hmm?" Raising his gaze, he smiled for the first time that day and patted his leg, casting his reading material to one side.
The transformation was incredible. Klavier's eyes now shone with light instead of tears. He nearly bowled his brother over in his eagerness to reach the comforts of Kristoph's lap. Nuzzling his white blonde mane against his brother's strong jaw he wrapped his arms around him.
Kristoph at last allowed himself to smile freely, as he stroked the velvet texture of Klavier's tresses and ran gentle strokes along his waist. It was a common seating plan for both of them, and with this familiarity a long train of dancing memories arose before them.
The earliest that Klavier could vividly recall was when he was seven and a vile storm raged outside. Darkness surrounded the sky as the clouds fired up their instruments of lightning and thunder. Petrified, he had gladly crawled in to his brother's waiting arms. As Klavier buried his face in to Kristoph's chest he had rocked him and sang.
** "Du bist meine Sonne,
Meine einzige Sonne,
Du machst mich glücklich,
Wenn es Wolken gibt.
Du wirst nie weiß
Wie viel ich dich liebe,
Also nimmt man nicht
Meinen Sonnenschein hin." **
"Also nimmt man nicht meinen Sonnenschein hin." Kristoph breathed in to Klavier's ear – as the memory of his brother's sweet voice merged with his actual voice, pulling him rapidly back to the present, they'd both just had the same memory!
"Oh I love you so much Kristoph", said Klavier; beaming as he gave his sibling's ear a quick, cheeky nip. Kristoph smiled as his younger other began to plant strong, hungry kisses upon his neck. Closing his eyes to enjoy the sensations and increasing his petting of Klavier, Kristoph naturally did not straight away notice the red ribbon and collar of his dress shirt being undone.
"No, don't!" gasped Kristoph, suddenly wary. But too late, the damage had been done, and the large purple bruises decorating his lower neck and collarbones were revealed
Klavier pulled back and pressed a hand to his mouth. The purpling splotches were obvious. But what were those huge, sore indentations…were they teeth marks?!
"Kristoph, what, what's happened?" Kristoph hurriedly did his buttons back up in reply.
"Kristoph wh-"
"Klavier. I don't want to talk about it."
"But!"
This time, Kristoph was less sharp in his response; taking a deep breath he shut his eyes,
"Klavier. I don't. Want. To talk. About it. Now is that clear?"
Klavier gulped, defeated.
"Ja. Crystal." The last word provoked an unusual response from his brother, a quick furrowing of his pale brows and a twist of the lips.
"Kris-", he was interrupted by a clanging sound. It was the guard, opening the door.
"Visiting time is over now."
Pressing a brief kiss to Kristoph's cheek, he gently squeezed his hand.
"I'll be back soon, ja?"
Kristoph nodded.
Inside, Klavier warmed. He was forgiven – but this happy thought was quickly replaced by another: what about how Kristoph had reacted… "Crystal?"
Crystal?
Crystal….
"Hey, Krystal!" came a deep voice, one that bounced and echoed off the tiles, clearly projected; even over the sounds of the rushing water.
Kristoph frowned deeply, knowing what was coming next. Like always he was correct, as in to his vision came looming the huge, wet figure of Damon Gant.
Turning, he attempted to ignore the dark intruder and proceeded to scrub himself. Not an easy task when the person you're trying to wish away is a solid column of dark muscle at least 6ft 5" high.
Suddenly, a ginormous hand was slapped on his shoulder, whilst another twirled thick fingers idly through the wet curtain of blonde hair.
"It's such a shame we can't go swimming, but this is definitely the next best thing, wouldn't you say?" Kristoph tensed. He couldn't even see the man, but he could see, no, feel, that stupid grin of his burning his back.
At lightning speed Gant shot forward, Kristoph winced as he suddenly found his arms wrenched behind his back, wrists crossed and encased in a manacle grip. Resistance was simply useless. Something Kristoph had learned by now. The man was ridiculously strong.
Gant tugged down on the arms of his blond prisoner, working him like a puppet. This movement wrenched a startled cry from Kristoph as he unintentionally arched his back and thrust his toned chest out.
Chuckling, (always, always that chuckle! Thought Kristoph through gritted teeth), Gant twirled the other man and shoved him roughly against the damp tiled wall, his free hand roaming: dishing out painful, unwanted squeezes and caresses with wet, meaty fingers.
Kristoph winced at the crude sound and sting as he found his ass smacked. It seemed to echo throughout the entire shower room.
"Oh, you just have the cutest butt Krystal!" smiled the former Police chief, giving the curved muscles before him another heavy stroke.
Eyes closed, Kristoph submerged himself in the burning rage of his anger, and humiliation - how he hated this man! How he hated that name, that –
His thoughts were brutally interrupted by a wide tongue tracing a heated trail along his neck.
Kristoph shuddered.
Swiftly, without warning, he found his buttock cheeks being spread open like doors and the square corner of a soap lathering his rear.
The German bit his lips and attempted to prepare himself mentally and physically for what was to come. He wasn't going to give Gant the satisfaction.
With a sneer, Gant thrust forward.
Kristoph found himself involuntarily gasping. As always, it felt as if someone had just launched a torpedo inside of him or swung in a battering ram as Gant penetrated him.
He stiffened, but tried to accommodate the huge cock that was now inside of him.
But before he could, cruelly the beast was slowly withdrawn but replaced again in a few seconds with even more force, pulling Kristoph back, and then slamming him in to the wall.
This time the German couldn't help but let out a small cry, which was quickly stifled as he bit down on his tongue.
"Don't try act all tough Krystal baby." Smiled Gant, snaking his arm around the firm waist in front of him, pulling them even closer together, "I know you love this really, you little slut."
Kristoph had just opened his mouth to protest when instead came a pained hiss as his own length became shrouded by Gant's hand.
It was disgusting, having that huge torso pressed against him, and Kristoph's body found himself hating himself for his body's reactions, as he automatically hardened at the sudden contact.
"Heh, I knew it."
Pumping Kristoph's growing erection, Gant resumed his powerful thrusts, plunging in and out.
Outwardly gasping, Kristoph found himself overcome with feeling. He writhed, every pore tingling as he found himself aroused both inside and out. How much could he take of this…?
Soon the gasps changed to shouts. Gant had found his prostate. Kristoph quivered and saw white stars before him each time that magical place was hit. Gant's grunts were beginning to become deeper and more guttural as he slammed in to him. His thrusts becoming stronger, faster, more erratic; fingers clenched tightly around Kristoph's cock, still providing delicious friction. Gant had rested his chin upon Kristoph's shoulder and was now brutally sinking his teeth in to the pale flesh, adding even more pain and sensation to the huge melting pot of Kristoph's overworked nervous system. Suddenly it was becoming very hot. Kristoph felt his vision blurring as each penetration brought him closer to the edge. It was becoming unbearable. He would simply fizzle out in a moment, it was impossible to feel this much all at once, his entire being reverberating with tingles, swamping his brain...The two men, rocked and shook together, for Kristoph it was becoming unbearable. He needed release…he was so hard….it had to come soon, if only Gant would loosen his grip…
He felt his head lurch backwards; his ring of muscle clench and a scream escape his lips as hot white spurted out.
Gant bellowed as his fat cock was squeezed by the tight walls of flesh surrounding it. Wringing out his own seed. Kristoph could barely feel it as he became filled with warm liquid, gladly sliding to the floor, exhausted, as Gant withdrew.
Through lidded eyes Kristoph wearily observed his captor stroll out, but not before turning with a contented wink,
"I had fun Krystal, we should do this again sometime."
Hi there! Thanks so much for reading this, I'm really not sure about this fic, there's a lot of it that doesn't sound right, and there's just something about it I'm not happy with - especially the sex scenes…maybe it's my description (or lack thereof at some bits ^.^;;)
If you have any suggestions or improvements please, please review and tell me! ^_^
And yeessssssssss, I know prisoners in solitary confinement probably don't shower together (I did try and look that up…) but shhhhhhh ^_~
Thanks again!