LOVE ME TOMORROW
Sometimes I want to hurt him.
I never used to. I never used to imagine the things I imagine now. I never used to fantasize about having him stretched out beneath me, screaming, crying, whimpering out pitiful pleas for me to stop. I never used to want him so badly I would rather take him by force than wait for him to come to me.
But he doesn't come to me. He won't. It hurts him just to be near me, feeling my emotions ebbing from my body in a natural attraction to his. I can't help it. My mental shields are strong, perhaps some of the strongest in all of Meifu, but when I look at him and want him the way I do--so badly I can taste him on my tongue--I can't hold back.
I wonder if he understand what it all means. I wonder if he is afraid of me. And, if he is, I wonder if he fears me for the reasons he should. There is often a sense of apprehension in his eyes when he looks at me, but from insecurity and inexperience, not because he believes I would take him against his will.
Dear, sweet, wonderful Tsuzuki would never do that.
"Baka! Quit daydreaming!" he yells in my face, jarring me from my dangerous thoughts.
I want to silence him with a kiss so bruising, tears would spring to his eyes. "Gomen, 'Soka, I just can't concentrate today. Isn't it time to go home yet?" I ask, wearing my mask so well, he doesn't even question it.
"Yes. Not that you've done any work since we arrived." he shoots back, so frustrated with me, and yet endlessly patient.
I could never be so patient. "Yatta! Let's go then. You promised to come back to my place for some tea, ne? You still will, won't you?"
He scowls.
He looks adorable when he does that, an expression so like a pout on those soft, young lips, I want to devour them. I want to devour everything.
"I'll come only because you make good tea, though I don't see how it's possible when anything food related you make ends up worse than being poisoned."
He is so damn catty.
"But...I'll come for a little while."
Little does he know, tea is not on the menu. I think I have waited long enough. "Arigato! It will be the best tea you've ever had. So good, you won't want to leave." I wink, grabbing both of our coats from off the rack and handing him his.
He scowls again, but keeps silent, obediently following me out the door and along the walkways from our building to the Meifu worker apartments. Technically, we only live a few doors down from one another, but having him on my turf, on my terms, gives me the advantage.
"Sorry about the mess." I apologize, opening the door for him. On his standards it must look pretty cluttered, but there really isn't that much of a mess--a few magazines from Earth scattered over the coffee table, a pair of pants slung over the chair, random dishes placed on almost every solid surface. "I meant to clean. Really. Demo...I had a late start this morning."
"Meaning, you slept in."
"...hai." See what I meant about catty? "Sit down on the coach and I'll start boiling some water."
He listens without question. I hope he is just as compliant when I am asking other things of him.
I have always prefered maintaining a certain level of control. Muraki would never allow such a thing if he got his way, but I never plan to find out. As for Tatsumi, I think he believed he was in control through everything, though deep down, he must have realized that I held all the power. Being bottom means nothing; control is possible from any position. With Hisoka, however, I plan to ravage.
As I toss my coat into the closet and head for the kitchen, I wonder vaguely if Hisoka knows about my past with Tatsumi. He suspects, of course, but how far does he believe the relationship went?
We slept together, I won't deny it, but that part of our partnership ended with all the rest. We were never right for each other. He longs for me still, every now and then, but he holds back, knowing that Hisoka is where my affections lie.
Naturally, Tatsumi believes my intentions are wholly pure, and not at all based on the physical. Do I love the boy? Everyone seems to think so. And...yes, it's true. I love him. I love Hisoka. I love him so much...I want him on his knees.
"What's taking you so long?" he calls from the living room. Again, so impatient.
The water is already on the stove, but I have been carefully removing my tie and untucking my shirt while musing over my soon to be played out plans. I catch a glimpse of myself in the microwave door before heading out of the kitchen. I look...casual. At ease.
Hisoka does not appear taken aback by my more humble appearance, and I knew he wouldn't. It is my home, after all. Besides, he too has removed his jacket, wearing only an orange T-shirt and jeans--form fitting jeans that tug at my already strained libido.
"It'll be a few minutes." I tell him, sitting beside him on the couch. I sense him tense at how close we are, since I chose to take the cushion right next to him, and I shift just enough so that our legs are touching. "I like that shirt. It's such a good color on you."
He blushes. He ALWAYS blushes. "Baka. It's just a shirt."
"Can't you take a compliment?"
"Of course I can."
Ooo, I sense a challenge. "Oh, really..." I smirk, leaning in towards him so that he has to press himself back against the arm of the couch to keep his distance. "Do you know how pretty you are, 'Soka? Hmm?" I speak in a low, lilting voice. "The wheat-blonde hair, the emerald eyes, and such a sweet face..."
"Stop it." he growls, his voice quivering. He is leaning back so far now, I imagine his position must be quite painful.
"I thought you said you could take a compliment?"
"That was several."
I laugh. I love laughing. Especially when it forces out another blush. "You're even cuter when your face gets all red like that."
"Tsuzuki, knock it off! Don't you know the meaning of personal space?"
"Yes. And I feel like invading yours." I lunge forward, the hunt well underway now, but before I can capture my prey, he has somehow managed to slip out from under me.
"I asked you to stop." Hisoka speaks bluntly, his voice still shaking as he stands facing away from me with his arms crossed in firm opposition.
Damn, if it doesn't just make me want him more. "Don't be angry. I know you know how I feel about you." I say, with volumes of compassion and understanding littering my words. I rise from the couch to come up behind him, maintaining a slight space between us.
"Of course I know how you feel. You broadcast your emotions for all to hear, so loud I can barely think." He sounds angry, but still...I can hear the tremor in his voice. "You know I care for you, Tsuzuki. Why do you have to ask so much of me?"
"Because I want you." Oh yeah, who needs subtlety? "I want you, Hisoka, and I have waited for you longer than any man should have to wait."
He barely has time to steal another breath before I am on him, spinning him around to face me as I pull him in close, locking our lips together. I can feel him struggling against me, but his smaller limbs are no match for my superior strength. I hold his wrists out to the side to keep him from pushing me away, our chests in heated contact.
His lips are just as soft as I imagined they would be, and they part easily to the force of my tongue sliding past his teeth where I explore vigorously, tasting everything I can reach. He whimpers. Oh, God, yes! This is what I have wanted.
A buck my hips forward, rubbing them against his, and he whimpers again, no longer fighting to get away, but limp within my hold. As I dig in deeper with my tongue, pulling his into my mouth to suck at the tip, he shudders, his knees weakening. I push my pelvis with more force against his, searching for a reaction equal to my own. A few more seconds of sweet friction, and I can feel his hardness pressing into mine.
I knew he would fall to my whims. He never really had a choice.
The teapot suddenly erupts into its shrill song, sounding from the kitchen, but I barely hear it, ignoring that it even exists. This is more important. This is where my attention must be focused.
"You taste so sweet, 'Soka..." I breathe, at last pulling back to catch my breath. Our chests and groins are still tightly pressed together.
He is trembling, his lips swollen and pink, and his eyes stare up at me with tears shimmering at their corners. "Tsuzuki...please...no more..."
I frown, my eyes narrowing. How dare he think he can reject me. "No more? You're asking me to stop when your body obviously wants me to continue?"
"I can't help what my body does." he replies defensively, blushing at my insinuations. "I don't want this, Tsuzuki. Your emotions are too strong, and...they're scaring me."
"Scaring you? Why? Because I have passion for you?" I know my words sound harsh, but I mean for them to.
"They're...not like you. Lately...they've been...different. You've been different. Darker. Like...like..."
"Like what? Like Saagatanus? Like some demon!"
"Tsuzuki...you're...hurting me..."
His reaction has angered me so much, I increase my grip on his wrists, forcing him to cry out and for those imminent tears to burst free. I am angry only because I know he is right. And...after all...I have so been wanting a struggle. "Finally, you see me for what I am, Hisoka. Well, if all I am is a monster, then I am going to take what I want like one..."
In a single motion I spin him and toss him roughly onto the couch. I am on him again before he can even fathom escaping, and though the teapot has since bubbled over and crashed to the kitchen floor, I could care less.
Hisoka's clothes are a distraction I am not in the mood to deal with, so I immediately remove him of his shirt and pants, oblivious to his tears and cries of protest. Soon, he is in nothing but his little boxer-briefs, a dark grey to match his brooding personality.
"Tsuzuki, stop it! I said I didn't want this!" he yells, his face flushed deep red in anger, fear, and unbidden passion. He still thinks I will come to my senses and listen to him. Foolish boy.
I offer no answer, grinning as I pin him with my weight. His small body feels so good beneath mine, squirming against me. His attempts to get away only increase my wanting off him.
I swoop down for another kiss, plunging my tongue deep into his mouth, demanding submission. He wants so much to fight me, to not give in, but he soon fails, surrendering to the feel of my tongue dancing with his. I trail my hands down his sides and up his stomach, lightly brushing the pink nubs beginning to harden with the rest of him. He gasps, breaking the kiss, and I allow it, deciding he must be dealt with more firmly.
"Tsuzuki...please...why won't you listen...?" His voice is riddled with the echo of tears, weak and fragile.
I trail down, running my tongue along his neck before descending to his thin pecs, where I twist to capture a nipple, sucking it and teasing it with my teeth. He groans, inadvertently thrusting his hips up to quiver against mine. He is so deliciously hard.
Hisoka's body, though small, is a constant enticement, and finally I have the opportunity to take it as I have always dreamed. Willing or not, Hisoka is at my mercy.
I love him. I hate him. I want him shattered.
"...someone, help me..." he sobs, hissing as I trail further down his stomach. "...please...please, stop...I'll do whatever you want, Tsuzuki, just...please...let me go..."
"Whatever I want...?" I repeat, leering up at him and gripping the waist of his underwear. "I plan to take what I want..." And I tug, pulling those grey boxer-briefs off in a fluid motion, down his legs and free, tossed to the floor to join his shirt and pants.
His sobbing becomes more audible, a din lingering in my ears, and though my eyes linger a moment on the entirety of his naked body, I slither back up, kissing softly at his damp cheeks. "Shhh...I know you want this, Hisoka..." I whisper, lapping at his still falling tears. "I'll make you want this..."
My hands trail back down his chest and stomach, reaching lower, past his youthful lack of hair to grab between his legs. Hisoka releases a half-cry that catches in his throat, and I know he is hating himself for how good my hand feels. So...I move it. Not gently or with gradually increasing pressure, but immediately harsh, pumping it brutally within my grasp.
But it is too much. I don't want him over the edge yet, only weakened, so I soon stop and raise myself up, holding him in place with one hand while the other begins to undo the clasp of my pants. There is no need to remove my shirt, or even to pull my pants and boxers off completely, so I merely wiggle them down to free myself, relieved at the instant ease in pressure.
Hisoka does not want to look at my revealed nakedness, so I place my hands at either side of his head and force him to, making him watch as I lower myself once more and our erections touch. I feel him shiver, his tears streaming freely now. He is no longer voicing his protests, because he knows I will not listen.
I lift his head to make our eyes meet, staring deep into those liquefied, green depths, and grin at how much he hates having to stare into my violets.
Sometimes I want to hurt him. Tonight...I want to torture him.
I grind against him, relishing in the electricity that shoots up from my groin to the back of my head, where sensation explodes and I am forced to close my eyes. Hisoka feels so good. So good. I grind again, vaguely aware of his silence as his tears become stilled, no longer able to fall.
I want to hear him scream, but he refuses, so I pump my hips ruthlessly, over and over, until finally, he releases, though he does not call out. I think, good for him, but I'm not done yet. Hoisting his hips up so that his legs are nearly tucked under my armpits, I watch in fascination as he stares at the sticky mess left on his stomach. His attention is soon brought back to me, however, when I find his entrance with my fingers.
The look on his face screams, though he remains silent, and I know that although his protests have left his tongue, he is still thinking them. Our emotions are so thickly matched in this heated tension, he must be overwhelmed, and yet, still does he plead with those green eyes for me to stop.
Now, why would I do that?
My fingers were only guides; I never had any intention of preparing him. I plunge inside, with no regard for the frailness of his body, and finally--finally--he screams, a sound so glorious, I am soon pumping just to hear him do it again.
He would be crying if there were any tears left to fall, but to my pleasure, he is still screaming, whimpering, and once again pleading for mercy.
"...oh, God...Tsuzuki...it hurts...please...why do you have to be...like him...?"
I laugh. What a monster I truly am. "Like him...? Do I...remind you of...Muraki...hmm, Hisoka...?"
"...you are Muraki..." he gasps. "I never thought...you could be like him...but you're worse. I knew he hated me, but...you...you say you love me...and yet you hurt me anyway..."
Yes...such a monster.
"...I...I wanted to love you, Tsuzuki...why...why did you have to do this...?"
Because I have ALWAYS been a monster. You wouldn't listen to me, Hisoka. I told you. I told you what I was, but you wouldn't listen. You kept telling me I was human, but if that were true, then why...why would I want to cause you pain? Why would I want you broken? Why am I allowing myself to become the very man I hate...?
I stop before completion, pulling from Hisoka's trembling body. There is no gratification in this anymore. I feel hollow. Empty. As empty as I had been before, only I have no right to feel this way. Right now I am with someone who will love me even after what I have done to him, but I feel nothing. I feel only the echo of his pain, and a sense of shame so deep, I wish I could die again.
"...a monster...just a demon with no soul...and no future..." I rant, speaking softly into the crook of his neck as I lower his legs and lie down on top of him, ignoring the mess left on my shirt by hugging his stained chest. "...that's all I am, Hisoka...a monster..."
He must be so sore, so pained, so tired and aching, and yet I feel his small hands running over my back to comfort me. Why must you prove me right, Hisoka? Why must you still love me after I have broken you?
"Tomorrow, Hisoka...please, don't tell anyone." I plead, asking too much of him--again. "Tomorrow...can we just...forget this...? I...I can't control the monster anymore. He's inside of me all the time, and...he wants to hurt you, 'Soka, but...but I'm so sorry...I'm sorry for being like him..."
"I know..." he whispers, already forgiving, even though more than just his blood is staining my couch. "I won't say anything, Tsuzuki. I know you're not really like him. We can deal with this...somehow. You're not a monster. I know you can fight whatever is inside of you." He pauses for a long time, still stroking my back and holding me close. "I...love you, Tsuzuki. I know you would never hurt me."
But I just have. And now...now that I know you will forgive without question...I can again, certain that you will always come back, believing your partner could never by a mirror of the man who raped you.
What would you call what I have just done, Hisoka? When will you accept that I am the monster I say I am? Will it be in time? Will it matter?
I say, I love you back, and you believe me. I do love you. I love you so much that sometimes...I have to hurt you. And I know, despite everything I might do to you, and no matter how much more the monster takes control of me...you will love me tomorrow.
owari
A/N
What the hell was that!?! I have no idea. I just...wrote it. I wasn't even in a dark mood, I just wanted to do something with Tsuzuki's darker side. I think it would be something like this if that part of him really took over--gradual, but something he embraced WHILE he struggled with it. So sad...and frightening. Reviews are much appreciated.
Crimson