Fanfiction: The Denial
Chapter: 14
Rated: M
This chapter: M (language, sexual themes)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. NOTHING!!!
-Nov. 1-
Jakotsu lay in the dim light, the chandelier shifting dangerously overhead. Bankotsu's typing had halted, leaving him alone in the apartment's tense silence.
The solitude left enough space for Suikotsu's words to come back. "I didn't let you out early because I 'couldn't fix you', Jakotsu, you have to listen to me. I'm letting you out early because your sadness isn't the problem. It's the symptom." Jakotsu reached out, tugging over a satiny pillow like it would break him free of the nagging memory. "The 'problem' is that you think…or, realize that Bankotsu loves you as more than a friend. You're convinced you're confusing him, but does he seem confused? You're the one who's getting confused, Jakotsu, you're having your heart pulled around on a string!" As Suikotsu leaned over his desk his eyes showed frightening remnants of insanity. "You need to resolve it by taking the initiative and telling him how you feel. Quit waiting, set a date or something and make it happen before you're pushed to the brink again." Tears were beginning to form, seeping into the pillow and awakening the dormant scent of Bankotsu's hair. "I know you well enough to understand that this is something a shrink couldn't help you get over."
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The couch completely swallowed his small frame as Bankotsu shifted around, trying to get comfortable. His playwriting project was a complete failure, he was still half-drunk and unable to write anything better than Moegi was capable of. The party was still haunting him as he fell asleep, threatening to turn his dreams into memory-laced nightmares.
The butterflies in his stomach had begun dropping acid, a perfect mirror of the current song. In the doorway, boy, she was a lipstick boy…
"Wasn't the kitchen back there?" …and tears boy and all in your innerspace boy…
"That was the bar," Jakotsu explained, bangs falling seductively to his eyebrows. Everything was in a sensual fog as he leaned forward. "I wanted to go to the kitchen with you. So we could be alone."
The faded checker-patterned tile stared back at him before Bankotsu's face was tilted upward by forceful hands. "You're so beautiful."
"So are you," he found himself admitting before an equally inclined mouth bent him over the counter. He was pinned, breathing hard, knowing that he liked it. Conceding, for all it was worth, that he loved the attention he was getting. He was too far gone to mind the way Jakotsu had aggressively aligned them, the tripping butterflies turning into molten lava in the pit of his stomach. The 'maid' rose up and down, managing to pressure him through the torn cloth pants and pristine black skirt. The beautifully intense friction caused his breath to halt through the kisses, letting himself be ravished by someone he couldn't possibly love.
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