Molon Labe
Rating NC17
Pairing MeroNeo/TriNeo
Warnings Dubious Consent
Author TVBOAerosmith
Don't like it? Don't read!
"Si joli garçon qu'il me fait souffrir."
"Aha, here he is at last! Neo, the one himself."
Neo fought not to fidget in his skin. The Merovingian was an eccentric man armed with an air about him that unsettled most.
As it seemed, Neo was part of that 'most.'
His eyes lingered on the incessant movement of The Merovingian's thin lips framed by vampire skin, watching with something akin to morbid curiosity.
Neo shut his eyes gently beneath his shades. They were here to settle business; He needed to get a grip on himself.
Typically, the fauxness, delicacy so to speak, of the Matrix maintained him as a man careful for confrontation, in constant trance—nothing mattered but their objective.
Yet this man uneased him so much that it shattered his usually undeterred front. That shady sly stench from the man elicited a sort of desire for avoidance in him.
But noticeable discomfort would be detrimental to the image he and his crew were trying to relay to this Merovingian character.
Focus! He urged himself, tuning in to the sound of The Merovingian's voice.
"...Something to eat, drink? N'importe quoi pour les jolies lèvres que vous avez. Such things are simply contrivances, but at your call my waiters shall fetch dessert." The pale man droned on.
Persephone, the woman whom Neo had just learned was the French man's wife, scoffed.
Seems like someone who loves to hear himself talk, Neo thought to himself in the privacy of his own mind.
Thankfully his vocals obeyed him and Neo heard his voice talk steadily without wavering. "No, thank you."
The Merovingian smirked easily. "Ne soyez pas timide. I insist, mister Neo, that you have something to eat."
Only me? Neo was tempted to ask. Shielded by his glasses, his warm brown eyes looked to Trinity and Morpheus. They said nothing.
Neo looked back to The Merovingian with a split second decision in mind. He wasn't Thomas anymore, boxed in by the stale, haunting, white and tiled office walls like a bird in a cage. He could make decisions by himself.
"I suppose a glass of water wouldn't hurt." Neo replied, tone far from curt yet with a demeanour that implied he wanted to get things moving.
Within the next few seconds of him having uttered this phrase, the program shook his head as if possessed.
"A cup of water? Already so thin," He made a smacking noise by clicking his tongue against the front part of his mouth, "And you are still on a diet? Pfft. Let me take care of your health for you, boy. Waiter!"
His wife, Persephone, was tapping an increasingly agitated finger on her bag. "Hm, savoir-faire, my love?" She said, a confusing undercurrent of scorn in her words.
Even stranger in The One's eyes, the man barely paid attention to his wife yet focused on directing the waiter who'd scurried to their table. "Yes, of course, ma cherié. Hé, toi. Apporte le gâteau spécial pour ce monsieur, compris?"
The waiter's jaw dropped open, questionably enough. He looked from the Merovingian, back to Neo, then nodded hurriedly, cheeks colouring. "Certainly, sir," He had barely finished his words before he scampered off into the kitchens.
Neo was many things. For one he was the Chosen, he could handle dual wield like a pro, and he could trade blows at the drop of a hat.
But then—Neo was not, at all, a bilingual person. If you counted code as a language, perhaps he was included in that category, but bonjour, monsieur, comment allez-vous?— were nowhere in his dictionary.
What is he saying to get everyone to act so weird?
Neo guesses multiple thoughts, each way off the mark. Though which would the chosen One prefer from an intrusive stranger? Pointed vitriol or sweet nothings?
If you really did ask Neo, he would probably think of them as one and the same.
Moments later, that same nameless bluepill ambled his way up to their table. Dutifully, he kept his head down, as if looking up would cost him his life, and bougie chocolate cake is placed on the table.
The porcelain plate met the table with a clink.
At first glance, it was seemingly harmless. Creamy fondue generously distributed on it in spades, a ripe red strawberry in the centre and a harmless metal fork to be used at Neo's leisure laid on the plate.
Behind his specs, Neo's eyes creased with his furrowed brows, then they flew open. Too late he tried to mould his face back to indifferent steel but the Merovingian had seen it all.
The corners of his mouth quirked up.
Deafening silence filled the table as Neo worked to keep any further reactions from showing but inwardly reeled.
"Like it, mon ange? Written by hand." The Merovingian turned and bared his teeth at the boy. "Especially for you."
Neo could only feel complete confusion. So, naturally, to inquire for knowledge is the first order of business:
"Why?" Neo asked, wooden. There was no point in creating a scene, lest Trinity and Morpheus caught even the slightest hint of what was in the desert.
Especially not Trin.
The French man's curved lips stretched impossibly wider. "Why? I should think you'd have known by now, tsk tsk, Neo. Disappointing." He shook his head disapprovingly, but the window that showed his pearly whites did not close.
"You have much to learn. Listen well, Neo. Do you know what I have heard? The ones under me always say that you are a great Messiah. How talented you are. How good you are at fighting. And most importantly..."
The previously human grin turned wolfish.
"How sexy you are when you do."
Trinity's hand reached down to the gun holster strapped to her thigh. Neo's own hand quickly pressed on hers. They shared a look. Neo shook his head.
She pursed her lips in annoyance but drew her gun no further from it's place.
The Merovingian chuckled softly. Throughout this entire ordeal, only he continued to be entertained.
"And, of course, how in love he and his woman are. Tell me, Trinity, what do you see in him? That is what I want to find out. What is so special about Neo that everybody wants a piece?"
Trinity's jaw tightened. Neo worried that if she clenched any harder, her teeth might fracture against each other.
"If you will not tell me, I suppose I'll have to find out for myself."
Trinity stood up from her chair with a sudden, propelling force, like a coil springing open. In a split moment, the muzzle of a Beretta 92FS Compact was trained right at the Merovingian's face.
"Fuck off," She spat, with the calmness of a shark near blood.
Persephone saw this, seemed to weigh her options, but in the end looked away without uttering a word, only trembling slightly.
The bastard on the other side of the table finally seemed startled. His eyes had widened just a fraction. He glanced at the gun, then at his wife.
Too soon the fear dissipated, his previous unperturbed ness returning. Then a smile, the sort you would see plastered onto an actor's face, halfway a grimace than a grin. Then out of breath giggling. Then, full blown knee jerking guffawing.
Trinity's eye twitched beneath her shades.
The laughing fit subsided. "Oh, oh, you are still trapped by this silly illusion of free will, little girl? You think you can order me around? I see no reason why I should, according to you, fuck off."
The Merovingian placed his fingers against the plate's rim. "I have not laughed so much in so long. It was needed. Merci beaucoup," The vampire finally caught his breath, "Do you know why you are here?"
"We are here for the Keymaker," Morpheus swiftly retorted.
"Bah. You think you know. You know nothing. Rien, rien du tout. Tell me, Neo, are you a victim of reasoning? That is just silly. With personal responsibility, god, those very words may just incite another laugh in me. There is only one constant, one universal, it is the only real truth— action, reaction, cause and effect. At the end of the day, we are all victims of causality."
Then he pushed the cake closer to Neo's chest where it came above the table, leaned in close like a siren, voice barely above one octave, "You were the cause, I am the effect. I saw you and I had no choice but to have you. Do you see the way you affect me? I am completely at your mercy, you at mine. Rejection is improbable. Why? First you must understand this; It is not reason, it is not truly want, it is not free will, it is simply because you let me see you, you came to me, you talked—the first domino piece falling in place—and I took interest, it all falls into one neat line. The Keymaker—Hah! He means nothing to me next to my cause. You will have him, only if you have me first."
Neo, to his credit, didn't even flinch as The Merovingian's cold hands came to rest on his left cheek, caressing his jaw up to beneath his eye. The chilling touch contrasted greatly with the heated breath ghosting the tip of his ears.
Inwardly, Neo was shocked. And the terminology "shocked" would be putting it lightly. It was like having ten gallons of cold water splashed onto you with no warning. Now, he really felt like helpless, dainty little Alice falling into Wonderland.
Him? The Merovingian wanted to fuck him? Why, when he had that pretty Persephone woman hanging off his side, when he could serve this cake to any unsuspecting, pretty young thing?
But then, he guessed that was part of the appeal. That he wasn't just any skimpily outfitted callgirl off the streets. That he was something special, Neo shuddered, virginal for anyone brave enough to sink their claws into. He was a tick on a checklist— You haven't tasted true power and reputation until you've fucked The One. Neo gulped.
His throat still felt dry.
He strutted in here a few minutes ago, confident he'd be prepared for whatever The Merovingian might throw at him.
But he'd psyched himself up for bloody dogfights, a sea of men charging at him, a cold indifferent man looking for more power as the Oracle had described him.
Not... Not The Merovingian having the hots for him. Perhaps that was an oversimplification, but it was certainly the gist of it.
It couldn't be helped. His entire face flushed a slight red. Subtly, he tilted his head a little to the right, relieving himself with what little of The Frenchman's starving eyes he could avoid, away from that frostbite touch.
And he hated, god he despised, that that accursed Merovingian was right. Yes—he would accept, if only for the fact he could arrive at that source he so desperately needed to find.
Trinity's presence and her anger bore a hole into his sides. Queasiness overtook him.
He didn't have a choice!
...No— That was a lie.
He had all the choice in the world. It is his choice now, and it will still be his choice later when he is regretting this, that he gave himself to this hooligan like coercing, that he so easily sold himself out.
It is for a reason, and a good one still, but he could have just as easily said no as he had yes. The only difference? The consequence. There is no cause and effect—he can choose. He can choose, select if he agrees, if he disagrees. And The Merovingian will not know that his ideology is all screwed up—he is going to view this as a victory. Neo could not burn with more shame.
"Let's take this somewhere private." Neo's voice was lower, quieter than usual.
"What?!" Trinity exploded. Neo couldn't bear to hear that tone. She was angry with him—That he could tell.
"We need the Keymaker. I have to do this," The hand the messiah had previously laid immobile on his thigh took hold of his cassock's gown and scrunched it together, hard.
Morpheus's face was pulled into a conflicted frown. "Neo, are you certain about this?"
Neo closed his eyes to block it all out for a moment. Was he sure? What kind of question was that?
Flashes of shattered glass, bullet-time air trails and Trinity's pain-stricken face flashed through his mind.
Valuable seconds trailed by. Every moment he did not act, did not choose, did not do, Trinity was every second closer to death.
His eyes snapped open.
"I'm sure." He replied. Turning to Trinity, a feather light touch of his hand on her non-dominant one, "Trinity— I need you to trust me on this." I love you, I'm doing this for you, He yearned to say, but some things were meant only for their ears. He wouldn't say it in front of strangers.
Trinity shook with unbridled rage. She slammed her gun onto the table, garnering a few shocked looks, sitting down, refusing to look at him. A cross of her arms told Neo he'd need to kneel and beg to explain himself later.
It didn't matter in Neo's eyes. She could be as angry as she wanted, and Neo would celebrate. After all beyond the grave, she could never be angry again. It was a sign she was here, alive, breathing, living.
He wouldn't gamble with her life like that. It could just be dreams, born from paranoia and stress, but even he could not convince himself about that. They felt too real for him to cast it aside as an unlikeliness.
He loved her.
Neo wouldn't forgive himself if anything happened to Trinity.
He loved her, and he would do anything for her.
"Mmm, very nice, very cute. Young love makes me blush," From across the table, a voice taunted them.
"A straightforward man, aren't you, Neo? Somewhere private... Hah. Be my guest—But the cake would make it much easier on you." The blasted Merovingian sounded entertained. That hand that must be made of ice resumes stroking and exploring the crevice of Neo's cheekbones sensually.
"It's my mercy." He closed one eye playfully.
Winked! That asshole winked at me! Inside, The One seethed. Loathe as he was to admit it his blush definitely got worse at that.
He liked to think it wasn't that he was charmed by the ridiculous display, more embarrassed by The Merovingian's shameless bold advances.
"...Can you let go of me so I can eat?" Neo grumbled, rather adorably. The first sentence with genuine human emotion, though little, that he had uttered.
Merovingian chuckled and finally slid his hand away, albeit slowly and reluctantly.
Neo regained scraps of what little dignity he'd had left.
The source, the source, He urged himself to remember.
"I'm waiting," The Merovingian drawled, bored with the lull in progress.
Neo picked up the fork as slow as he could.
He sliced the cake into two halves for it to be more mouth size friendly. Might as well just get it over with fast, a one and done deal he could forget about the moment he got back to the Nebuchadnezzar.
He speared one half on his fork, then held it up to his lips, brushing against them, an unsure tremor in his hands.
Then, he downed the chunk of cake in one go.
He chewed ungracefully and forced himself to swallow. So good was the taste, that he wanted to throw it all up.
What with Neo's stoicism, it wasn't too obvious, but the effect was instantaneous.
His breathing turned strained.
The Merovingian continued to watch the show put on for him with a sick sort of mirth in his eyes.
"...My God." His voice was breathy with lust.
It starts so simply, each line of the program creating a new effect, just like poetry.
Sparks. Strained eyes. Sweat begins to drip down his neck. Furnace-hot—hotter still.
Neo watches, with his gifted vision, shakily as the code takes effect. There's just about everything he can do to stop it, but he won't.
This is your choice.
The fork clatters to the floor, forgotten.
Oh. Neo hadn't even realised he'd lost his hold on his utensils.
But now his hands are free, and he aches to do something with them, to hold something, to wrap around— He has a pretty good idea exactly what, and exactly whose.
His eyes are screwed shut. He occupies his hands with covering his slowly drooling mouth instead.
First, a rush… Heat... 'Her' heart flutters.
Nope, no, no, no, nononono... A mantra that only spurs his irrationality, that takes the ruins of his lust-driven mind and plays with them. He is nothing.
His skin is on fire.
Can you feel it, Neo?
His heart is pounding in his ears. It's lighting a fire within him, a flame hungering for more, insatiable. It will only grow bigger and bigger, consuming all in it's path, until there is nothing left. His body temperature rapidly climbs, but then, why does he feel so fucking cold?
You do not understand why – are you cursed? No. Rather, the opposite. What is it then, what is the reason?
And soon it does not matter, soon the why and the reason are gone, and all that matters is the feeling itself.
It will ravage him.
By now, there's a sizable bulge in Neo's pants that weren't there a minute ago, and the fabric material of it begins to stick to his thighs, slick with sweat.
This is the nature of the universe. We struggle against it, we fight to deny it, but it is of course pretense, it is a lie.
Neo needs... He needs... he needs...
Beneath our poised appearance, the truth is we are completely out of control.
Undone, by and by. Ribbons unwrap— he is His to claim.
His eyes are still tightly closed, for fear that he may pounce upon the first one he sees.
...There is no escape from it, we are forever slaves to it.
It's cold. So, so cold. I need heat.
Someone ... please...! His mind screams.
Affectionate hazel eyes overtaken by black want snap open.
Clumsily, Neo stands from his seat, knocking over his chair in the process, but The One could care less. His logicality flew out the window and committed suicide long ago.
"I...ah.. ghh." He moans, refusing to look his partner or his captain in the eye. "Neo," Morpheus enquiries, a concerned note in his voice. He begins to stand, intending to aid Neo, but Merovingian beats him to the chase.
He rises from the table, wrapping a long arm around Neo's shoulder, pulling him in. Contactcontactcontactheatheatcontactheat! Neo's splintered mind happily shrieks. His head comes to lay on Merov's shoulder. Moremoremore...
It's a nice sight. The great and mighty indomitable One, shaking like a leaf, pink in the cheeks, almond eyes squinted and darkened with want.
"Oh, Neo, I could just eat you up." His hand comes to tilt Neo's lolling head up to match their line of sight with a single finger. The Merovingian shakes his head and sighs with great amusement.
The type of amusement only found in a wolf that has caught the rabbit. Yes, that same rabbit that has been sprinting in circles in a panic, but had already been caught the moment it set foot in the wolf's lair.
Persephone's face is screwed up in a scowl. And to think her husband used to at least have the decency to not do it right in front of her.
Trinity's squeezes the edge of the table so hard a crack runs through it, but Merovingian pacifies her with seventeen words.
"The Keymaker will be yours when I am back. Disturb us and I won't keep my word."
He smirks, obviously overjoyed with his next bout of words, and says his last phrases directed at the entire table and not exclusively Neo. "You may want to wait eight hours at minimum. My love, be a dear and bring them down to the receptionist, or they'll have to sit here the entire time. Au revoir."
The two interlocked men haven't gotten far from their original spot, one of them barely able to keep his balance. The Merovingian hopes to change it.
"Elevator, my sweet, walk fast... I intend to savour you for a long while." The arm on his shoulder snakes down to firmly hold his waist.
It sends an electric spark down Neo's spine, inducing a full body jolt. Neo can't hold it back—a strangled gasp escapes him.
The precipice of his eyes begin to sting, complemented by dusted pink cheeks, indicators to the sensitivity gathering between his thighs.
"Vous êtes vraiment très sensible... La moitié de mon aphrodisiaque et tu trembles comme un chienne."
The One, defiant in nature, shakes his head insistently. He can't understand at all what The Merovingian is saying as of the moment, but later on he will look back at this and feel red hot embarrassment and arousal begin to bloom.
Neo, for his fuzzed up brain, hasn't quite lost enough of his blood in expanding the vessels beneath his cheeks to not realise the obvious rise right beneath his zipper. Awkwardly, the edge of his cassock is bunched together, then draped across his embarrassment. His companion sees this and laughs.
"Why, modest? Don't be... With a face like this you should be vain." The Merovingian's hands shamelessly go lower, much lower, to give Neo a hard squeeze. Neo squeaks weakly.
Across the room, Trinity's fuming face and Morpheus' scandalised one have both seen more than enough.
The elevator doors haven't even opened to the size appropriate to accommodate two men before the Frenchman already has his hands roaming every inch of Neo's body.
One grope there, another pinch here, each one as shocking as the last.
Neo fights for control, but it is a losing battle. The world has become a blur of colours. Colder, hotter; Hotter, colder. That is all he knows.
He doesn't know his surroundings, he doesn't know when the fuck? he started grinding against Merv, but he responds fervently by pressing back, barely able to keep up this fast-paced, messy and demanding imbroglio.
I feel good.
Really, really fucking good.
Sex surrounds him.
Sex, like the type in a club, sex, like the type in those tapes, and not, Neo supposes, like the type belonging to bedrooms with rose petals and candles and scented oil.
But I shouldn't.
The blush from his cheeks has spread to his neck like a low grade fever.
He collapses against the elevator walls hard enough to make his world shake—Neo's hand is torn away from his drooling mouth by skillful ones belonging to a madman. Strings of saliva from his tongue to his palm break as it's separated.
Flushed cheeks, floppy hair, trembling legs with fluid dripping from his mouth and his eyes. A fitting description for Neo, the man with such a pitiful face it urged to be bullied.
A sight that poems will be written about, that marvels will be carved over.
Scorching hands, a world's difference from the icy cold of earlier, find their place in pinning both of Neo's hands above his head and gripping hard into Neo's ass cheek respectively.
With no hand left to cover his erection, his black cassock falls away in an elegant fashion, his cock trapped within the confines of a zipper and a belt.
They kiss. Or more like, The Merovingian smashes his lips unto Neo's. It's hard and violent with a different kind of passion altogether. Almost like fighting, Neo observes.
It's never like this with Trinity, an unwanted thought burrows into his head.
His bottom lip is bitten into. Metallic blood floods his taste buds. He opens his mouth to yelp in pain—The Merovingian takes it as invitation.
A warm tongue shoves into his mouth and it's like a battle for air. Exploration. That disgusting and delightful wet appendage intrudes and violates every single little crevice of his mouth, and all he can think is how much sex with the Merovingian differs from sex with Trinity.
Sudden and rough, The Merovingian pulls away with a pop, and Neo's left gasping and scrabbling for breath, legs trembling weakly. His only support, the horribly cold wall and the vile pervert. Trapped between a rock and a hard place.
Shamelessly, the program bows down to sniff and lavish that bulge with attention. He doesn't hold back from burying his entire face into that inviting tent. The fabric's wet stain from precum smudges onto his cheek.
The hold on his hands that Neo was depending on is gone. Directionless, he stabs his nails into the walls.
One lick. Two. It's all too much for Neo's brain to process. Like a computer overloading. But he can't say "stop". Can't say "no." Something's different. What he gathers is barely legitimate.
Trinity... Trinity's...
To his horror, he sniffled.
The well was, thankfully, dry however it didn't stop his face from scrunching up in pained discomfort.
He was so cold, and now it's so hot, so hot he can't think, can't refrain, can't concentrate on anything but the wide palms caressing his waist.
"You have a wonderful smell, Neo," The Merovingian comments, voice predatory.
All the while, Neo's struggle forms itself in the shape of intense mental debate and a constant shifting of his hips. He wants to buck into that face—more more moremore!— at the same time he wants to tear away from this metal box and run, climb up the cables back to comfy, familiar, feminine Trinity, and the paternal like guidance that comes with Morphe— Shit, shit, please no mooore...!
No longer able to wait any longer, the zipper is ripped open and the belt is thrown away as an afterthought.
The pants slide off his waist and hang stuck around his knees.
Neo's boxers are torn to its seams. His average sized length swings forward standing tall and proud, blushing an angry shade of red. Excess fluid dribbles from the tip.
The Merovingian kneads the softest part of Neo's body, teasing the bouncing fat and running it through his hands, his knuckles; His mouth, on the other hand, encases Neo's cock. The resulting disoriented gasp Neo lets out is a sound even he did not know he was capable of.
But that wasn't quite as shocking or embarrassing a sound than when Neo wailed high in his throat, that wet tight tunnel around his dick firmly tightening, devouring him to the base.
And then, The Merovingian begins to move up and down his shaft. Stationary, it ignited sparks, and now with friction, it melted his mind. Metal creases beneath Neo's fingers, the walls now with his mark.
He found himself wanting, no, needing more. More heat, more warmth, more moisture, more sex. More, more, more. He wanted to go all the way and he wanted everything The Merovingian could offer.
He bucked into that mouth again, moaning unabashedly as his dick hit the back of the frenchman's throat. A blunt nail circled Neo's hole and he gave a harsh shiver.
The One didn't have much time to dwell on that, though, because his mind was a puddle and the sweat that gleamed down his back made him slide down the elevator wall, eventually making him sort of squat.
"Neo..." The Merovingian pulled away, growling. Neo was pushed back until his back laid flat against the cold floor. The other loomed over him.
He was a dead man walking.
Ding!
The elevator had reached whichever floor The Merovingian had chosen.
More fittingly, whichever location. Not in Kansas anymore. The interior of an impressive marble mansion greeted them.
Merovingian's place, Neo groggily realised, thinking this knowledge could help him one up the very man who was currently lathering his dick with pets—using his mouth.
Then the world shifted and Neo's moist eyes widened. He was being hoisted up by his companion. His pants slipped off fully, cool air kissing his legs. He squeezed them together. Then his boots went.
That meant that The Merovingian was princess carrying Neo. The One felt vaguely embarrassed in the back of his mind where a part of him still grasped for control even as it slipped through his fingers. But the other part who was now docile, bending to the other man's will like a mindless doll, simply held himself close to the other's chest, basking in the warmth the other person radiated.
They reached a polished wooden door. Without much care, it was busted open. Neo hit the royal canopy bed with a thud.
Abruptly, he felt cold. There was no longer another lifeform that was holding him. He felt unfulfilled.
But The Merovingian fixed the issue by approaching the bed with a sneer, a self satisfied smirk, already shedding his outer coat.
"Neo, Neo, Neo." He intoned. "Je te veux."
Neo wanted to turn away.
He wanted to slam his fist into that face, wanted to fight.
Wanted to kill him, even. Wanted to make the fucker bleed.
Instead, instead, always instead— he held out his hands metaphorically, hesitantly spreading his legs in a show of losing.
Sensory organs burned where the silk cloth of the bed rubbed up against.
He needed only one thing.
The man in front of him could give it to him, here and now.
He wanted to beg, scream, cry for what he ached to be done, but he didn't even know what.
He didn't have to.
The Merovingian knew. The man in question did not even have to chuckle—This was to be expected.
"Eager, aren't we?" The Merovingian smiled.
He yearned for the heat from earlier to return. He despised this chilly feeling.
"...Yes..." It was quiet, barely above a whisper. The Merovingian had to strain to hear it and Neo likely wouldn't have repeated it had he been asked. Yet, The Merovingian heard it loud and clear.
This time, he laughed. A centred mockery mixed with admiration, celebration of Neo's bold declaration.
"Always be eager for me." The Merovingian descended on him. "I love it."
Clothes flew left and right until Neo was finally completely naked. The shades were pushed away from the bridge of his nose, finally letting those hazel orbs shine. Neo suddenly felt uneasy; Like fighting, you only knew someone if you saw through their eyes—the window to the Soul. Through his eyes, he could see a glimpse of the incomparable beauty of Neo's real body.
Without the last shield of privacy, he was completely open to all advances. Truly and undeniably naked, in all senses of the word.
The Merovingian leaned down to press a feather light kiss against Neo's temple. The last gentle thing he would do tonight.
Now the true fun begins.
The french man unzipped his pants, and Neo shivered. Fear, or anticipation?
"Open your mouth." He demanded.
The man on the bed froze.
"W-what?"
"Your mouth." He repeated.
"Hold on, no, no, just... Get straight to..." His voice harboured no few tremors.
The Merovingian laughed again, cruelly so. Neo looked away, ashamed.
"Scared of sucking, eh? You're so cute, mon petit lapin en sucre, I'll even comply just this once... But you'll have to eventually." The Merovingian promised darkly.
"Here's something smaller for your petite little mouth." Meroveque's fingers shoved in between Neo's lips. Neo wasn't without clue, and acquiesced to sucking and licking to the best of his ability.
His fingers popped out, more spit spilling everywhere, staining these sheets, more to come. From Neo's pure face they snaked down.
Simply pressing his fingers against the pink-brown fleshy opening induced a visceral reaction. Neo inhaled harshly, teeth clenching together but seeking additional pressure.
Not one to keep his partner in a state of suspense, Merovingian thrust in, two fingers at once. Neo's groans climbed a few octaves.
Warm, all over. Warmth embraced him every moment he felt the other's man fingers plunging in behind.
What he would give to stay like this forever.
Then he pulled out from the tight grip, and thrust back in again, this time reaching deeper than before. Neo keened softly, foggy taboos clouding his sensibility, twisting and arching at that unpleasant breach.
Then it was all gone, but back at once bigger and better. Something hot, bulbous and thick fused with his entrance and Neo blinked mellowly in confusion, before realising his predicament and clawed hands into the sheets, turning his face away to hide in the pillow.
Sudden panic washed over him. Crap, was he really going to commit to this? Was he really?
Not now. He couldn't possibly get scared now.
Reme...
Remember, Neo.
D-deep breaths… this is for, for ….
Her name escaped him.
Then Merovingian shoved in and Neo cried loud, Gwyah! before biting down on his tongue, sheets scrunching beneath his fingers.
He shook with trepidation.
Dare he say it?
Good.
It felt good.
The head of Merovingian's thick length pressed against Neo's g-spot, spurring the production of tears.
So, so good.
So, so much!
The filling sensation overpowered any discomfort.
He feared what he might begin to think the moment the french man began to move.
"Ha-aah..." Neo breathed long and deep, teeth chattering so hard he felt it might fall right out.
Too much.
This was too much to handle.
His body burned with a responding fire to Merovingian's gasoline, and at this rate, Neo couldn't hide it.
And suddenly, that campfire became an atomic bomb's boom.
One mind blowing thrust in and out shattered his 'calm' into a million little pieces, ripping from him a yowl that suited a mutt more than a man.
Followed by another.
And then a similar one behind it, angled slightly different, but effective in making him cry mercy all the same.
Neo screamed, yelled, howled for all he cared, until his throat was sore and until he knew nothing, not even his own name, just that this sex was amazing and he never wanted it to end.
He had no control.
"Mooo-ooore... Hahh... More..." Neo begged mindlessly for the millionth time. Far be it beyond him to think and act sensibly in this state.
Flames licked his sweet spot, churning another bout of movement in his muscles. Again he pushed back against The Merovingian and let out a pleased sob.
The room stunk of sweat but Neo couldn't stop. He was immersed in this sex, addicted to the full feeling of the foreign invasion of his body.
Merovingian pulled out and plunged back in, never doing either for very long, and never following a set rythm except for the beat he set of skin slapping against skin.
"Ghk!" Neo pressed his lips together, his arms around Merovingian's head tightening.
"Bébé, va-t-il jouir?" Merv smirked.
"I'm, I, I—!" Neo's voice teetered on the edge of unbridled, pure nerves and utter desperation, hips twitching sporadically in a telltale sign of ejaculation.
"I'm right here, mon putain."
Hands gripped his waist to lock it in place, and Neo couldn't help but love the authority of it all.
His jaw dropped wide, head thrown back to bare the pale, hickey covered neck, eyes shocked wide open. White covered his lower abdomen in spurts and Neo saw a burst of stars.
Merovingian followed shortly after, Neo flinching in distaste as an uncomfortable sticky sensation filled up between his thighs.
They caught their breath.
"...One… One more round?" Neo asked.
Merovingian laughed. "Insatiable and incorrigible."
"Gaaah!" A man's voice screamed to the walls.
Neo awoke with a start, water—water?— splashing in every direction all at once.
Disoriented and confuddled, his arms flailed in a panic before realising the truth that there was no water.
His heavy breathing subsided. He didn't need to, after all.
First, to survey his surroundings.
Grandiose, wheat coloured marble blessed his eyes. Opulent frames around the cleanest mirrors Neo'd ever seen adorned the walls. The dimness of the candle-lit room reminded him of the caves back home.
The incredibly large jacuzzi pool hybrid didn't make up the whole room. There was a section of marble floor before the flight of stairs that descended into the jacuzzi. It glistened with moisture.
He looked above. Ornate showerheads were attached in a neat and orderly fashion. Furthermore, a carving that looked as if it had jumped out of the Greek era was bursting out of the ceiling.
The subject of the statue was, to Neo's shock, male, and completely naked save for a red, flowy cloth draped over his thigh. With the statue, was an eagle, some sort of Familiar Neo guessed, and the hawk's eyes bore right into his own.
His head tilted back down. A sudden desire to pull his gaze away from the statue overtook him.
He drew his attention instead to the flickering flames of the candles mounted on the walls. The entire bathroom had a wonderfully captivating aesthetic.
Truly a pity that this all wasn't real.
And this water, he noticed, felt different. For one, he thought as he pulled his hands out and stared at them, this water didn't prune his skin.
Infact, this water soothed the irritation he felt, physical and mental. He felt, for lack of a better word, amazing.
Yes; By right, none of the water in the Matrix should prune his skin, but as he'd awoken thinking it was legitimate water, he must have had perceived it as so when he was asleep.
He was the one who made it real; His body on the chair, with the plug right in his head's port, should have had water wrinkled skin by now.
This liquid body had special code.
Natural as breathing, his vision shapeshifted into pure lines of filtered green. A number of things caught his interest.
Healing contents, health boosters, mood boosters, he had found himself seated in one big soupy concoction of all things positive.
Then he found a single string of code that was strange.
...I... Properties of soreness relief?...
"...Shit." Neo cursed, blushing madly.
Neo went quiet. His eyes slid closed and he buried his hands in his face. "Fffuuuuuccck." Muffled expletives bubbled out through the gaps in his fingers. For a good five minutes his hands stayed there before it finally slid up to comb through his hair and splashed back down into the water.
How would he explain this to her? Fraternising with the enemy—with the program, how could he?
Come on, Neo.
Get up.
….Get Up. Trinity is waiting. So is Zion. Link, his wife, Morpheus, hell even Kid, everyone back home's counting on you.
Shaky hands grasped on the marble tiles for support, unfolding his body. At his full height, the water reached up to his pelvis. Cold air hit his torso— immediately his arms wrapped around his own body. A twinge of pain hit as his hands brushed against his sore nipples. A quick check revealed bite marks encircling the pink nubs. He winced and shifted.
He glanced around. Where were his things? Carefully he climbed out, one leg already on the elevated floor, when the door suddenly burst open.
"Ah, Neo, mon petit cœur, you are awake. Good, good," The Merovingian greeted him. Neo scrambled back down into the water. It splashed everywhere, but not far enough to hit Merv. The man in the bath's hands hurried down to cover the spot he was shy about.
Merovingian exhaled in amusement. "Neo, I've seen everything from your arse to your mini me. I hate to see you shy, petit garçon, don't be afraid to show me a bit, yes? Very pointless to cover when I know your insides." The pale vampire walked further into the room.
"I'll show you in your dreams," Neo snapped. "Where are my clothes? And the Keymaker, where is he?" He demanded.
Merv shook his head and the previous amusement wiped off his face. "You have a lot to learn in the bargaining business. Butt naked and you still think you can threaten me, hm?" Now he was in front of Neo, and his hand inched closer to the other's face.
Neo's hand shot up with surprising ferocity and he slapped away Merovingian's hand. "Touch me and you'll never touch anything again."
His face darkened even further and his hand gripped Neo's wrist, hard, pulling the other nearer to him, nearly ripping off The One's arm in the process. Neo didn't let it phase him.
"Espèce de salope idiote. You are in my domain, my bathroom, my space. Shall I remind you who is in charge? There you go again, thinking you know anything. You cannot get an outcome out of me— it only happens with cause. If you have a shitty cause, nothing fucking happens, putain de bordel de merde!"
"Tu ne sais pas. Tes affaires trainent partout!" Merovingian carelessly let go of Neo's arm. Neo stumbled slightly.
In a one eighty twist, the anger evaporated. The man's eyes scanned the expanse of Neo's marked skin, suddenly bringing him a good mood as he reminisced yesterday night.
"Hm, but you know what, that's completely fine in my book, yes? You have already made me very happy, Neo… I am the only man in the world that has seen the unimpassioned, cool and collected One grovel at my feet and beg to be fucked like a dog—" Neo didn't want to hear any more of this. "—And I am very, very satisfied from that, Neo… but you must understand, a man keeps his promises."
"I trust you won't keep a man waiting?"
What? "No. You owe me the Keymaker," Neo retorted.
Merovingian scoffed. "Un imbécile de merde. Dommage que tu sois mignon." Following this, his hands came to the buttons on his suit, and they slowly came off.
"Do you remember, Neo? I asked you to suck my dick and you said no. Hah!" Merovingian guffawed, as if it was the funniest thing he'd heard.
He was down to his belt now, having completely shedded his top.
Neo stared.
"So this," The zipper of his pants came open with an obscene rip, "Is what you owe me."
"You haven't even finished fulfilling my cause yet, Neo, Neo..." Merovingian's palm secured the top of Neo's head, pulling forwards — "Suck."
Neo cringed, feet losing balance and shuffling backwards. "No, no way!"
Merv hissed in annoyance as Neo's commotion splashed droplets onto his heels.
"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty... Here comes the Keymaker." Merovingian patted his crotch twice, as casual as talking about the weather, beckoning Neo forward.
Neo didn't blink as he stared at Merovingian's groin.
"I... We already went all the way. I don't have to do this."
Like talking to an individual with no sense, Merovingian sighed long and hard through his nose. "Neo, I hope you know my dick needs more than just ass to live."
Sudden, with no warning, Merv pushed down his boxer briefs just enough with a single thumb for his dick to sling forwards.
Neo had already seen everything, but his doe-eyes widened anyway.
"Look, poor thing is wilting without your sweet mouth. So, open up honey, I'm coming home." Merv smiled.
Neo continued to stand there, stock still. "Why?"
"Pourquoi? Tu me demandes pourquoi? Pfft! Hah!"
Merovingian looked down at him.
"Because Neo, for your information, sometimes things happen that we can't control. You know, I shouldn't be here? You know it, I know it. My woman, Persephone. She will be angry, so very angry with me."
"But it's not my fault. I saw you, I needed you. Therefore it just happened. It's like fire from a candle catching on the tablecloth. An accident and you can't stop it. But what you can do, is accept it. Is understand it."
"You can always douse the fire with water," Neo replies brusquely, standing with sudden recognition in his eyes.
"And that would make me miserable and cold. People need outlets, Neo, and I happen to be a very imaginative man who's imaginations have no where to go."
"And if a fire starts and I respond with water, you realise that too is causality. Control does not exist. You act based on how you must to support a system that needs you for it to function."
Neo shook his head. "No. There are two outcomes. Everything has different outcomes. Those are choices. Maybe it's true that things happen by cause, but the effect is yours. You choose the ending."
"Neo—," Merovingian sighed, "Merovingian—," Neo stated, "—You just don't understand."
"All this 'because I choose to' bullshit is hurting my ears, mon cherié. I'm still only here for one thing."
Neo stepped forward, the sloshing of water following suit.
"Little bit big for your mouth, do your best, oui?"
His hand came up to cup Merovingian's balls.
Merovingian exhaled happily. "Ahhh, finally, merde."
Tentatively, Neo gave the head a lick. He flinched at the salty taste, gulping.
Merv laughed. Ha-ha! "Oh, come on, Neo. You're The One. Surely some dick wouldn't be too much for you."
The One in question's face tightened.
Spurred on by the taunting, he more boldly gave it a number of more kitten licks, face screwing up as he attempted to adjust to the taste.
His ribcage expanded as he sucked in a deep breath.
Then, with the faintest hint of pink in his cheeks, he opened his mouth and closed it around the head.
His hands moved with ingrained unsureness to grip Merv's shaft.
"Just like that... C'est tu pas trognon?"
The Merovingian's hands carded through Neo's slightly damp hair.
"Now move."
The width of his torso expanded and reduced at a fast pace as he slowly slid his lips lower, jaw sliding progressively more open.
Spit filled his mouth, coating his pressed tongue, gums, teeth.
His eyes fell shut. Should he cry, or shouldn't he?
Finally he reached the point where his lips brushed the lines of his fingers. His mouth was filled to it's brim, pushing away the flesh insides to make space.
His cheek bulged; Drool dripped from his mouth and mixed with the water beneath.
Resolve of steel.
His head bobbed up, more spit dribbling away, before doubling back down, the lines on his forehead folding, fearing to gag.
A slow pace begin to form, Neo's head went up again. Vis-à-vis his hand the counterpart did the opposite, sliding down.
Head down, hands up.
Merovingian's hands brushed away the stray strands of ebony black hair. He sighed in contempt.
His waist began to twist and turn, vaguely in the shape of a zig-zagged zero, though with not much shift.
His hand gripped Neo's shoulder hard, with more strength and dominance in his hold than Neo had anticipated. But he welcomed the bruise.
This, he chose this, for everyone else, for Zion, for Morpheus, Trinity—and for himself.
He doesn't know this yet, but this, is also for the sake of The Matrix, for the Machines, for the Sentinels, the Programs the exiles the rogues.
How else?
None.
This is present. This is Now. Any chance of another outcome has been overwritten. Microcosm though small, though encapsulated by Macrocosm, holds a superpower.
That superpower: To choose.
To mould the life they lead. To control the outcome. To procure opportunity from debacle.
To blow flame from ashes, emerge from it a phoenix.
An inexorable matter, something not even the Oracle, the Architect can take or give.
This bruise, he chose. This water, he chose. This feeling of panic over Trinity, he chose.
Neo shudders as pearly white spills down his throat. He clutches the open fly and zipper of Merovingian, messily grasping, finding his centre.
Organic, bitter, salty-sweet. But Neo can't focus on the sweetness. It feels like battery acid has just flushed down his oesophagus.
He dislodges from Merovingian, mouth split wide to pant loudly. His entire body rises and falls. Drool mixes with seed.
He chose.
Merv leans down before he can spit it out, sealing their mouths in a closed kiss. They battle. The fluid mixes around.
It sticks to their lips, some stretching with tension before finally separating into two goopy lines, and Neo cannot believe it but— the foulness of it excites him just slightly.
The other puts on so much pressure Neo leans backwards, Merovingian's hands securing him in the form of an open palm splayed across his back.
Heat and friction they generate.
Finally Neo finds some strength left in himself to push Merovingian away, gasping for oxygen.
But Merv doesn't cease the assault. Kisses are trailed across his jaw, his ears. His other hand holds Neo's face, the part he is turning away.
"Stop," Neo whispers, voice tinged low. He doesn't want more marks.
"Please," Merovingian bites into his neck, Neo baring his teeth in the natural human reaction to pain, no longer able to be stone-faced, "Stop, I said stop."
Merovingian seems to laugh into the crook of Neo's neck, warm air ghosting across his jaw. "I generally prefer my women willing, Neo."
His hand slips through Neo's hair. "But, you are a natural at this. I must admit I was pleasantly surprised, mon cheri. Congratulations."
Neo huffs.
"I don't want your congratulations." He said, in a very straightforward tone.
Merovingian started to laugh instead. "So The One is also a victim of the after sex bad mood."
Neo grit his teeth. "Just give me the Keymaker, you fucking animal, you think I fucked you because I wante—?!"
Merovingian smiled again.
"Yes, yes, your beloved Keymaker. He is right outside. Patience, baby, patience."
Don't you talk to me about patience.
"Your clothes are by the door, if you've noticed," Merovingian cocked an eyebrow, lips curved into a smile. "Help yourself, Neo. Don't change infront of me yet—I may not be able to resist. Meet me at the elevator in five. I will bring you to the Keymaker. Chop chop. There is much to do."
As he walked out, he retrieved something and threw it in Neo's direction, "You may be needing this."
The door slammed closed.
Water rolled down his thighs, back, ass as he stepped out. The fluffy white towel in his hands unfolded.
Three minutes later he slid the glasses back on his nose, and alive again was the cocky, opposite of verbose, ecclesiastical One.
His footsteps echoed around the hall. His dress swished with every advancement.
His vision shook slightly. Not because of terror, or discomfort, but rather his physical inability.
He couldn't walk. There was a fucking limp in his step.
I made it real, god damn it.
Neo was going to regret this for days to come. The Merovingian had fucked him til he couldn't walk.
Thank his lucky stars that the cassock masked most of it. Emphasis on most, as many blue and black flowers across the span of his neck was visible above his mandarin collar.
"Mon ange, look this way."
Neo glanced over.
Merovingian had found himself a glass of Hennessy Ellipse, pale fingers standing out from the darker colour of the wine.
The unoccupied hand pressed a combination of buttons. Immediately the sound of gears turning were heard and the display panel lit up.
The elevator doors slid open.
"After you," The vampire raised his glass.
Choosing not to comment, Neo swiftly walked in, Merv following.
The doors closed and an uncomfortable flashback crept up on him. Pressed up to the wall, exchanging breath, scrabbling hands.
Neo looked in the direction Merv wasn't.
Don't say anything.
Don't say it, Neo.
Don't bring attention to— "Merovingian." For fucks sake.
Merv took a swig. "Yes, darling?"
"I… why did you.. You said you wanted to get a piece of me, to.. Test me out."
Merv laughed. He couldn't seem to stop doing it in Neo's presence. "You seem to never learn. Haven't we gone over that topic? You are adorable, you know, like a newborn baby fumbling around in the Matrix's aged systems."
"No, that wasn't what I meant. I already know the 'Why'. I just want to ask for… your opinion." He.. Should he say any more? "Of me." Thomas must still be lingering in there somewhere, smashing his vocabulary mastery to bits.
Merovingian lowered his glass of wine and closed the distance between him and Neo. Neo sucked in his lungs and waited with bated breath.
"Are you trying to fucking tempt me?"
Neo's eyes caught the dent on the wall. He wasn't intending at all to make a second one.
Long arms encircled him, and Merovingian's nose approached Neo's neck for the umpteenth time. Maybe he wasn't being caught up in the moment during that "scent" remark yesterday.
"You are the most infuriating lover I've ever had, Neo. So curious, my kitty, but devious. It will kill you," He inhaled hard, "It's wonderful. It's like I'm on your high. Drunk on you."
"I feel like," He paused, glazed eyes roaming the walls of the elevator, the hand holding the wine tightened, "The most powerful man in the world with you in my bed. Don't tell her—but you are better. You are the best I've had. Because you drive me crazy."
"I get to have you ephemerally, but this taste will have left a deeper mark on me than you, a mark you'll never understand, god, I will always want more of you, you, you are, I would kill myself if I was Smith, or Morpheus, jump with joy if I were that woman Trinity— So close to you but never able to lay claim to you, it must be torturous. How in the world," He hisses,
"Has your captain survived this long in arms length of you, but never losing his fucking marbles? The One, there for me to smash into bits and pieces, for me to disassemble and poke around flesh by flesh. I could taste your joy, taste your anger, your lust, invigoration, such a powerful man with powerful impassions that are so very interesting, but shove something up your ass and you become a trembling little girl with watery eyes and so effete— Can a man with the ability to correct the Matrix really have such beautiful, clueless eyes? Such soft, virtually harmless, hands?"
And the man goes on a soliloquy. "That is the catch. You are lethal. But through something as trivial as sex I can control you. To put it simply: Once you have a dangerous bitch with claws on a leash, you cannot get enough of it. You are powerful- it empowers me. I feel like an accomplished man when I see you cry, when I see you speared around my cock."
"You…. you have no idea the way you must affect people. There must be hundreds, thousands of men who tug one out each night like incels because you graced them with your ass, with your smile."
"Mon trésor, oh, mon trésor, tu me manqueras beaucoup quand tu seras parti…."
And that final line is said with such conviction, ferocity, intensity, Neo's shaking when the elevator door finally opens and he's free of The Merovingian.
Neo stared down the old, Asian man in the middle of the cell, forging away at a ring of rusty looking keys.
There seemed nothing else more appropriate to say. "My name is Neo."
The other looked up at him, eyes glinting.
"Yes, I'm the Keymaker. I've been waiting for you."
Trinity.
Her smile, her laugh, her strands of raven hair.
Sourness filled his legs as he took one step forward.
Don't you die on me.
A/N
Nom de dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de conard d'encule de ta mere! Did I do Merv justice? Tell me with RR.
The greek statue Neo sees in Merv's lair (Lmfao) is Ganymede, the greek god/cupbearer of gay sex. No exaggeration applied.
Anywho, here are the translations:
Si joli garçon qu'il me fait souffrir = The boy so beautiful he makes me suffer.
N'importe quoi pour les jolies lèvres que vous avez = Anything for those pretty lips you have
Ne soyez pas timide = Don't be scared
Ma cherié = My darling
Hé, toi. Apporte le gâteau spécial pour ce monsieur, compris? = Hey, you. Give that special cake to this mister, understand?
bonjour, monsieur, comment allez-vous? = Hello, Mister, How are you?
Mon ange = My angel.
Merci beaucoup = Thanks a lot.
Rien, rien de tout= Nothing, nothing at all.
Vous êtes vraiment très sensible... La moitié de mon aphrodisiaque et tu trembles comme un chienne= You're really very sensitive... Half my aphrodisiac and you're shaking like a bitch
Au revoir = Goodbye
Je te veux = I want you
Mon petit lapin en sucre = My little sugar rabbit
Le bébé va-t-il jouir = Baby, you're about to come?
Mon putain = My bitch
Mon petit cœur = My little heart
Petit garçon, = little boy
Espèce de salope idiote = You stupid bitch
Putain de bordel de merde = For fucks sake
Tu ne sais pas. Tes affaires trainent partout = You don't know anything, you're all over the place
Un imbécile de merde. Dommage que tu sois mignon =A fucking idiot. Too bad you're cute
Pourquoi? Tu me demandes pourquoi? =Why? You're asking me why?
C'est tu pas trognon = Aren't you cute
Mon trésor = My precious
Tu me manqueras beaucoup quand tu seras parti = I'll miss you dearly when you're gone