Undertow.

Rated: PG-13 for limey things.

RIVAL SLASH. From Steve's point of view. Shounen-ai, slash, boy/boy, yaoi, whatever. Don't read if you don't like that stuff. And yeah, it's an odd pairing. I'm just experimenting around; don't mind me.

Fic's Theme Song: "Undertow" by Tool.

Enjoy?

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I've been struck dumb by a voice that

Speaks from the deep

Beneath the cold black water.

It's twice as clear as heaven,

And twice as loud as reason.

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You think you're so great.

Brains and good looks. Both of the best traits from both brothers. You have Darry's wisdom, and Sodapop's handsome face. It's because of you that I can't be happy with Sodapop. It's because of you that I wish I'd loved Soda instead.

Why you. Why you.

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It's deep and rich like silt on a riverbed

And just as undisturbing.

The currents mouth below me, opens up around me.

Suggests and beckons all while swallowing.

It surrounds and drowns and sweeps me away.

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I hate you. You tag along everywhere. You take up all of Soda's attention, and leave me forgotten. I though I was in love with him; the blonde beauty. He was mine. But you decided to stick that cute little nose of yours into it. Like you always do.

Cute? Why do I wanna call you "cute"? I'm supposed to hate you. Loathe you. Glare and cuss at you.

Why is it I dream about you at night? Your gentle face, forest-green eyes flecked with stoney grey, soft, smooth vanilla skin. You below me, moaning and whimpering for me. Soft and warm...

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But I'm so comfortable...Too comfortable.

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Why do I dream about such things? You hate me, and I hate you. I'm supposed to wanna screw chicks, not my best friend's kid bro. I'm disgusted. Why can't you just disappear? Just die?

Now I'm looking at you. Typical; your face buried in the white pages of a book. Unaware of my inner turmoil. My affections. My need to just touch you, feel you...

Love you.

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Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up

Shut up, shut up, shut up shut up

You're saturating me

So how could I let this bring me

Back to my knees again, again, again.

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I thought, if I ever feel in love with another man, it would be Soda. Beautiful, charming, handsome Soda. Muscular and flirty. He's perfect. And you are not.

But still, sitting here watching you, those thoughts come back. Your sharp, harsh moaning, grabbing at me, digging your nails into my back, wanting more and more. Never letting me stop. Me, never wanting to stop.

I reach out, and you look up at me with furrowed brows. You think I wanna hit you; it's exactly what I wish I felt. Instead, I run my hardened, oil-stained hands through your soft red hair. You, stare at me in disbelief. I cannot believe it either.

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Under for the third time.

I've been baptized by your voice.

It screams from deep beneath the endless water.

And it's half as high as heaven

And half as clear as reason.

It's cold and black like silt on the riverbed.

But I'm so comfortable.

Far too comfortable.

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I cannot control it anymore. Even though your brother is only in the next room over, I grab your hair hard and pull you towards me. You punch me hard, trying to get away. Struggle, my enemy. Struggle. That's what I want. You to hate me.

Because, even as I kiss you, tongue pushing into your mouth, invading you, I hate you. Loathe you. Want you to disappear. Lie beneath me and moan. Touch me. Let me be inside of you.

You bite my lower lip, making me bleed. That's what I want. Hate me. Hurt me. Show me I'm wrong.

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Why don't you kill me,

I'm weak and numb and insignificant,

And I'm back on my knees.

Lost in euphoria.

I'm back down. I'm in the undertow.

I'm helpless and awake in the undertow.

I'll die within your undertow.

It seems there's no other way out of this undertow.

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Soda can't hear us anymore, sealed away in the bedroom. Hate me. Hit me harder. I want to hate you back. It only makes me want you even more.

You think you're so great.

Why you. Why you...

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Yeah, I guess I'm just being weird. Tell me if you hated it, liked it, or are indifferent to such weird writing.

Maybe I'll write more sometime. Peace.