Set after "Head". A scene between Zoe and Kyle. Just something that came to me this morning in a fit of excitement over the return of AHS on Wednesday, which I quickly typed up.
Zoe/Kyle– Rated M
Disclaimer: American Horror Story does not belong to me. Only the idea for this little fic does.
"She fixed you," Zoe mumbled, voice soft as Kyle slid into the bed beside her.
"Yeah," he whispered back, slowly moving his body into contact with her own until they were flush together. He swallowed, "That's what you wanted right? For me to be," his gaze bore into hers, "fixed? Better?"
Zoe shrugged. She didn't fucking know what she wanted anymore. She had wanted a life for Kyle, something more than a bumbling wordless existence as a sex toy. But she didn't want to lose him and since arriving home that afternoon, finding him with Fiona playing Gin, things had been different. Kyle had been reserved, indifferent. He had largely ignored her outside of the pointed and fixed glares he occasionally sent her way, making Zoe feel hollow and cold inside.
She had offered smiles, had even managed to bat her lashes a couple of times, Madison scoffing silently, rolling her eyes from the other side of the room. But Kyle had hung back. When the older witch stood, excused herself, he had remained at the table, shuffling cards then dealing them out into a game of Solitaire. Part of her thought about sitting with him, offering to play Rummy but she dismissed the idea as too pathetic, too needy.
By dinner she regretted ignoring the impulse. By bedtime she was furious; with the world, with Fiona, with fucking Madison, and with silent resolute Kyle. He wasn't the old Kyle, the original Kyle who she met at that goddamn fraternity party, and he wasn't the boy she had made, brought back, saved. He was something new, unknown. And he appeared to have no time or interest in her, unlike either of his previous incarnations.
Mostly though, Zoe was furious with herself. She cursed herself for being so fucking stupid. What had she thought would happen? That Kyle would want to stay her pet forever? That the moment he got better he would repeat those three words that had sent her heart racing, slamming against her ribs? That he would rush up to take her in his arms, twirl her around on his steady legs making her gasp with joy, and never let her go again, because they were one, had been since their first meeting?
The worst part was that she knew the answers to all of those questions were yes. That was exactly what she had hoped. And she was bitterly disappointed, chest aching, head pounding, limbs like lead.
By the time she crawled under her white comforter, Madison no where to be found, she felt like crying. Her roommate was probably fucking him, right then, up against a wall somewhere. Kyle, new Kyle, would want someone like Madison, wild and experienced, who just wanted his cock, anyway he would give it to her. Zoe would just be the girl who brought him back, who fucked up his life, his entire future, and then put a gun in his fucking face when things didn't immediately go her way. She would be the one who accepted his smiles but rejected his kisses, his advances, in order to teach him words, a way to communicate. Fiona had given that ability back to him in a matter of moments. So really, Zoe decided, she was just a shitty witch who tossed aside the one guy she could be with, who she fucking loved, in a crazy attempt to help him that hadn't really managed to help him at all. And because of all that, he would never bother with her again. Why should he?
She felt them then, the tears, spilling over her eyes and running down her cheeks, soaking her pillow. She was pathetic. There was a lump in her throat shaped like a sob that she refused to release. The room was too quiet, too lonely, for blubbering and wailing.
The door opening softly startled her, made her sniff, quickly rubbing the back of her hand over the wetness on her face, removing any evidence of her broken heart, broken spirit. The last thing she wanted to show Madison was tears. Zoe would not give her that kind of fodder, ammunition against her. Bitch, she thought with a final snivel.
She cast her eyes to the doorframe, black against the moonlit darkness of the room and was surprised to find a larger, broader shape than that of her roommate.
"Kyle?" she breathed, heart skipping a beat, fear choking her only for the briefest of moments.
"Hi," he replied, pushing the door closed with a quiet click behind him.
It was still strange, the cadence of his voice, the ease with which he spoke. Zoe couldn't decide if she preferred it to his halting sentences and pleading glances. She should, but selfishly she didn't. The old Kyle had been hers. The new Kyle was something else entirely, belonging to someone else, himself maybe, Fiona or Madison. But still, he was there. With her. And that was something.
His body pressed into hers, his hand on her hip, his head sharing her pillow, but none of it comforted Zoe. The look in his dark eyes was unfathomable, dangerous. His face was placid but those orbs told another story entirely. So while her skin felt alive with the heat of him, her insides trembled, her guts a mass of snakes twining and slithering. She was tense, rigid in his arms, afraid of his silence, his rejection.
"What? Nothing else to say?" His words were calm, smooth, like a cool glassy lake.
"I don't," she shook her head, the words stuck. Zoe didn't know what to tell him, what he wanted to hear. There were so many confusing, conflicting thoughts whirring around in her head. So many of them scared, selfish, and weak. Things she would rather keep to herself. How could she tell him that she had wanted him to get better but now that he was all she could think about was the broken but beautiful boy she had before? That boy had wanted her, loved her. Without him, there was nothing.
A low rumbling went through Kyle, something feral, wild, like a growl, forming at the back of his throat showing that he wasn't entirely reformed. There was still something of the monster dwelling within. Zoe's breath caught, lungs stuttering as her heart fluttered.
His hands moved lightening fast, latching onto her wrists with bruising force, pulling her arms up above her head. Zoe's eyes went wide. "Ow," she gasped painfully, chest rising and falling rapidly, panic building in her stomach, adrenaline coursing through her veins, making her feel sick.
"Want me now, Zoe? Now that I'm all better? A real boy," he hissed, grip tightening as he stretched her arms further, the sockets aching, muscles burning. "Or are you still going to push me away?" Kyle's breath was hot on her face, his mouth tight, gaze deadly.
"Kyle," she whimpered, shaking her head, trapped. He had a knee planted on either side of her hips, his feet over her shins, body crowding her.
Zoe attempted to struggle, squirm beneath him, shimmy, but it did nothing to loosen the boy's hold. He exhaled, a strangled sound caught between pain and pleasure, his eyes falling to her mouth as she licked her lips.
"No!" he began, releasing her wrists, sitting up with a start. "No! You can't just fucking do that to me!" he fumed. His tone was gravel, wretched, and miserable. Kyle raked his fingers through his sloppy blond curls, tugging, his eyes closed, as Zoe stared up at him in surprise.
"Kyle," she said again, softer, voice breathy.
"Look at me," he seethed, gaze flashing hard once more.
"I am. I…"
"You made me this," he paused, panting, air rasping in and out past his lips, distraught, "this thing and then fucking cast me aside. You didn't want me." His hands came up and for a second she feared that they would close around her throat but they shifted down, rested briefly on her ribs, before roughly yanking, wrenching, her cotton tank top, the straps giving way, the sound of fabric tearing filling the quiet space of her room. The cool night air touched Zoe's small breasts, her nipples pebbling, hardening, under his watchful stare. She felt the blush rise on her cheeks. Kyle had seen her before, suckled her, been inside of her, but she couldn't help, stop, the reaction, the flood of embarrassment of being so exposed before him as he looked at her like that. A gorgeous, enraged god. Something out of a myth, a fairytale.
He lower his head, took a rosebud pink peak into his mouth, laved it with his tongue, nipped at it with his teeth, making her tremble. "I do," she told him, fingers finding their way into his untamable mane, hips rolling up to nudge the hard bulge there. "Oh god, I do."
Pulling back sharply, parting from her breast with a wet pop, leaving it soaked with saliva, cold and bereft, Kyle exhaled roughly, "Now. Now that I'm fixed," the word was a taunt, a curse.
He didn't understand. But perhaps she had never explained it, not to him. "No," Zoe shook her head, hands slipping to his shoulders, coming down the front of his black thermal and over his defined chest. "No," she repeated, finding the hem and tugging it up. Kyle let her pull the shirt over his head, repositioned himself, allowed her thighs to slip from between his legs so that she could cradle him against her. A thrust into Zoe's heated center made him bite his lip, eyes rolling back. The action had an equally powerful affect on the girl beneath him who released a shuddering breath. "I want you," she sighed, touch flitting over sharp shoulder blades, like wings, down along the raised ridges of his spine. "Always wanted you." Kyle sneered but attached his lips to her pulse point, the rough of his tongue dragging along the tight tendon of her neck, before enveloping the lobe of her ear.
Zoe couldn't control her body. It had taken on a life of it's own, undulating, writhing, hoarsely drawing air into her lungs, all against her will. She wanted, needed, to explain. "I," she squeaked, three of Kyle's fingers thrust past the barrier of her of underwear and inside of her sopping aching channel. "Fuck," Zoe groaned. Kyle hummed his approval for the idea into her ear.
"I told you how I felt," he murmured against her lips, tip of his tongue touching the full lower one, when she remained silent, words lost to her.
"I know," Zoe eventually answered, eyes closed, body taut, hips canting into his wet palm, so close. "And I told you I loved you too." She looked at him then, above her, beautiful and open, the scar under his eye, the freckle on his nose, the way his mouth quirked when he was serious, concentrating. "I meant it, Kyle."
"But," their noses bumped, "you always…"
"I know," she gasped, back lifting off the bed when he hit that spot, the one that made her see spots, stars, behind her eyelids. Her hand rose from its perch on his shoulder, where she had been gripping him with such force that she felt she might have left bruises on his pale flesh, to cup his chin, fingers tracing the line of his cheek. "I didn't want to use you," her voice was halting, the words hard to find in her muddled, pleasure soaked brain. "You were more to me than that. Than some toy. I wanted to give you everything, Kyle. Not just some life, trapped here." And before Zoe could say anything else his lips were against hers, desperate, pleading, teeth scraping her along her jaw, tongue against her throat.
She came, with a muted scream, into the cavern of his mouth, nails clawing his back, marring the skin there with red.
As Zoe gasped for breath, struggling to recover, Kyle slid her panties down her thighs, past her knees, over her small boney ankles. Next his hands, shaking, went to the button of his dark jeans, wrenching the zipper down and freeing himself, cock bobbing into view. Barely able to comprehend what was happening let alone aide him in his task Zoe laid on her back, legs splayed, hand over her racing heart.
Kyle kicked his pants off, the heavy denim thudding to the floor beside the bed, before taking his dick in hand. His digits, still sticky with Zoe's orgasm, her juices, coated his erection as he worked himself, staring down at her nearly naked body, soaking slit glistening in the moonlight filtering through the windows.
Still on his knees, he came down over her, like a human cage, balancing the majority of his weight on one arm, pressed down into the mattress beside Zoe's head, as the other guided his throbbing cock to her sopping hole. He ran the bulbous head, hot and needy, oozing pre-cum, along her slit, tapping her clit and making her moan.
Previously, Kyle had been a somewhat brutal, violent lover, taking what he wanted with lost eyes and lips stretched tight over his teeth. He would rut against her, slam his hips forward, grind into her, grunt, teeth on her shoulder, Zoe's hair falling forward into her face and she gasped and choked. His kisses could be sweet, the lips were his own. But his arms, his legs, his dick, those had belonged to someone else once and they commanded action. There was nothing gentle about fucking Kyle.
But just then, as he slid inside of her, face to face, his mouth dropping open as his eyes closed in ecstasy, Zoe knew that was something else that had changed in him. The new Kyle, the fixed Kyle, was almost gentle, tender. She might have called it worshipful. His free hand came up to sweep hair away from her face, his thumb tracing the seam of her lips before slipping inside. Her tongue tentatively reached out to taste him and he released a little stuttering sigh. Emboldened Zoe clamped her lips over the digit and set to sucking it, laving it with her tongue, flicking the very tip in time with his thrusts.
He pulled his thumb away, running it along her chin, a trail of spittle in its wake and lowered his face closer to her own, leaning forward, an elbow on either side of her head.
"I'm yours," he told her hoarsely, "you're mine. I can say it now. Without you, I'm nothing." Zoe nodded her agreement, bottom lip caught painfully between her perfect, straight white teeth. Tears blurred the edge of her vision, burned her eyes, made her throat tight, but she held back. It wasn't the time for weeping, sentimentality, so she took his face in her hands, hips shifting beneath him, knees knocking against his ribs, as he sunk yet deeper within her, the blunt head of his cock butting up against her womb, making them each release a low moan.
After that neither spoke in words, only in a mixture of groans and grunts, flesh slapping into flesh, the wet pounding of their bodies coming together.
Zoe's breath hitched as she came for the second time, thighs clamping, imprisoning her boy between them as he shook, sweating, above her, drops of moisture dripping from his hair onto her shoulder, her cheek, the pillow behind her head.
Kyle came with a mumbled oath, hips thrusting violently, sloppily, as he spilled himself inside her quivering channel. Zoe clutched him to her, felt his heart pound against her chest, her own slamming up into her ribs in reply.
"Wow," she panted later, when she could speak once more, gaze lingering on his gorgeous, awestruck face. Kyle licked his lips, a blond lock obscuring his eyes, but his mouth quirked into a smirk.
"Yeah?"
"Mmm," she purred, toes on his calf, the soft inside of her thigh rubbing along his coarser muscled one, eyes closed, as her head listed to the side, exhaustion taking over.
Kyle pulled his hips back, slipping his semi-limp cock from within her, a gush of fluid rushing out in its wake, sliding down her cleft to the sheets below. Zoe whined at the loss, the gathering wetness under her, squirming and pouting. Her boy laved at one nipple, sucking it into his mouth, releasing it with a wet pop, before crashing down to the mattress, his body a furnace against her naked form. Zoe shifted, making room, while simultaneously crowding him, burrowing into his chest, his arms, so that no inch, no centimeter, of their skin did not touch.
It had been an incredibly long day; the hospital, Kyle, the pain and stress of it, the loneliness and desolation, the fear. But that brought something else, something outside of the pleasure of being with him, having him, the warmth of his body nestled against her own, to the forefront of her mind.
"What about Madison?" Zoe breathed out suddenly, chest rising and falling lazily. Kyle curled around her, his palm ghosting along the curve of her ass.
"What about her?"
"She won't just give you up."
Kyle sighed, a rough sound coming from his nostrils, like an angry dragon. "Fuck Madison," his hand stroked up along her back. "It's you and me," he said, their foreheads touching. "I love you."
She grinned, "This road goes two ways," nuzzling against him as he held her that much tighter.
They could worry about what her witch-bitch of a roommate would do in the morning.