Bare Grace Misery
Author Notes: Ken and Farfie ficcie! –dances- I shouldn't really be happy; it's kind of a disturbing pairing, but it will be semi-humorous. Please read and review.
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! The makers of Weiss owns the characters. Nightwish owns the song "Bare Grace Misery."
Ken walked into a dark house, not knowing what he'd find.
"Why are you scared, kitten? Me? Or what I represent to you?" a dark Irish accented voice whispered in his ear, causing Ken to shiver.
Sweet boy, come in
I am the dark side of you
"Ken! Ken!" A strong voice interrupted his daydreaming.
"Huh? What?" Ken asked, confused as to what was going on.
"If there was a world record for how many plants one could drown, I think you're getting close to beating it," Yohji said, looking at the huge puddle of water on the ground.
"Oops. Sorry. I'll get it," Ken said, forgetting the puddle of water as he moved, then remembering just in time to hit the ground.
He had been here before...The Irishman stood near him. The man's arms and hands were covered in blood.
"Drink the sinners' blood. He was killed to repent. Now, we will drink his blood for all our sins," the Irishman said, moving one hand to Ken's mouth.
"Farfarello," Ken whispered, breathlessly as he licked Farfarello's fingers.
Die for my sins
Like the one once did
Ken awoke with a pounding headache and someone was pinning him down. He looked up to see the familiar face of the Irishman from his dreams.
"Farfare..." He was cut off by the Irishman's lips. The man tasted like cinnamon, and Ken could smell the scent all around him, devouring him. It felt like Farfarello was eating him, mind, body, and soul; just like the cinnamon.
Cinnamon bed
For you unashamed appetite
Farfarello pulled his knife out from under the sheets.
"Cry for me, kitten. Show me the pain you're in because of going to bed with your enemy," he said, tracing designs on Ken's arms, legs, and sides. Ken cried out each time the knife pierced his skin. Just enough to hurt but not to kill.
A figurante
This dance will hurt like hell
Farfarello smeared Ken's blood on the brunette's chest. The assassin was breathing heavily from both the pleasure he felt and the pain. Farfarello started licking the blood off Ken's chest, then stopped for a single moment to look at the brunette's eyes.
"You would taste better if you believed in fairy tales. If you had the innocence of a child," Farfarello said, before once again to devouring him.
Oh, bare grace misery
Just a child without a fairy tale am I
"Ken!" Aya yelled forcefully, causing him to jump and fall on a rose bush. The thorns caused some of the scars to reopen.
"Ken-kun, are you all right?" Omi asked, rushing to help him out of the bush.
"Yeah. Just a little out of it today," Ken said, getting out of the rose bush.
"Maybe you should go take a nap, or go for a walk," Omi said, patting Ken on the shoulder.
"Yeah, I think I will," Ken said, leaving the shop.
It was almost sunset on a cold winter day. White snow coated the ground, and the park was empty. Ken had stupidly forgotten his coatback at the shop when he was rushed to get out of there before he did anything else stupid. He sat on a bench, watching to the sky. The moon rose and the stars shimmered against the beautiful black background.
Dark but so lovely
A little Match Girl freezing in the snow
The sound of footsteps brought Ken out of his trance. He looked up, and there Farfarello stood, barely a breath away from him.
"Why do you cry kitten?" Farfarello asked, running a hand down Ken's face.
"Just a hard day," he said, leaning into the light touch.
"Let's go somewhere," Farfarello said, helping Ken up. Before the man knew it, the brunette closed the distance between them and was devouring the Irishman's lips.
Love lying, enticing
Bare Grace Misery
They barely made it to the same dark house they had been to so many times. They didn't bother going to the bedroom. They began lavishing each others bodies.
Crowing the moment
Bare Grace Misery
"Time for some fun, kitten," Farfarello said, slowly dragging his fingertips up Ken's spine. Ken's body trembled at the feel of his touch, waiting for the kiss of the cold blade against his feverish skin.
This is what I am
Bare grace for the end of days
Farfarello laid on the floor, watching Ken sleep next to him. 'Such a lovely creature; just like something out of poetry,' Farfarello thought, getting up. "Too bad this ends today."
Romantic scent
Spoiled Lucrece lies warm for you
Ken had woken up alone with a note saying it was over. His feet took him to a church. He was sitting on a pew, on the verge of tears.
"I have damned myself to this life," Ken said, shaking his head.
There's no such priest
That can pray me to heaven
Ken had made it back to the shop, still moping. He locked himself in his room without speaking to any of his teammates. He wasn't ashamed of what he had done. He was just confused as to what had happened.
When done with me
Forget if you think I feel ashamed
Meanwhile, Farfarello sat in the living room, polishing his knife. He was wondering how Ken was taking the break up. He wasn't sorry for doing anything with Ken, it was just that Ken was safer if they weren't together.
A wild thing
Never felt sorry for anything
Two weeks later Ken was taking a walk down the sidewalk. He had been doing that a lot lately, taking long walks to the park. He reached the entrance of the park and saw the white-haired Irishman who had been filling his thoughts for the past two weeks. The man must have heard him walking for he turned to face him and smiled. The two just stood there, staring at each other.
The End...
Author Notes: I know it is not the most disturbing thing ever, but it is the most disturbing thing that I have written. Interesting pairing don't you think? Well, do you think it is good, bad, so-so? Please, read and review!