A/N: So what do I say about this? I have no idea. The regular disclaimer applies. I do not own the characters only the plot. It's a lot shorter than what I usually write. It's a one shot but there will be a sequel to this. Don't know when I will be starting it though. My thanks to my wonderful beta Mei-chan for being my muse and for beta-ing. I think I'll dedicate this fic to her and to everyone that have ever reviewed a story I've written. Thank you all.
Dangerously in Love (Prelude)
There are rules to what we do. Rules never to be broken; maybe sometimes bent, but never broken. There are rules to what we do. Rules to protect ourselves, to protect those we care about. Rules to protect those we love. Except there is no one that I love. There has never been anyone that I loved, except myself. So I've always obeyed the rules to protect myself. Him - there is someone he loves. I know, even now that he's here with me, letting me do these things to him, he is still in love with that man. He made it clear from the beginning. I remember the words he said that day. I don't think I'll ever forget them. They'd caught me by surprise.
"I love him."
That's what he said; and me - me in all my corrupt, poisonous glory - scoffed at him.
"So what? It's just a fuck. If you're going to end up on some fucking guilt trip afterward, spare me the trouble and get the fuck out."
He looked at me then in a way that made me want to beat the shit out of him. Yet, instead, I pushed him up against my wall and raped his mouth with my tongue. He responded so quickly it surprised me. He fought me then, pushing his tongue against mine, fighting for control. For a long time, we ravaged each others' mouths. Eventually, he pulled away, breaking the kiss.
"If we're going to do this, I want top."
I smirked at him then. I knew why he wanted top. He was afraid his lover would find out another dick was in his ass only a few hours ago. Back then, it was fine with me. It wasn't the first time I'd done this. It wouldn't be the last. Back then, it didn't matter to me if I was on top or not. It didn't matter whether the hole my dick was in belonged to a male or a female. It didn't matter, as long as I got off and I enjoyed myself.
Even now as I'm moving inside him, I remember all these things. I remember the rules, the rules to what we do. I know the rules. I know them by heart. I've yelled them at him, screamed them at him, laughed at him after reciting them, called him a hopeless fool as I shoved them in his face. Yet, as I move inside him, I'm breaking the one rule that I know should never be broken. Above all else, this one rule never spoken but implicitly understood - Never allow this rule to be broken.
Yet as he wraps his arms around me begging for more, his voice whispering my name like a mantra as I move inside him with slow steady thrusts, that cause him to tighten his arms around me, I know. I know we're breaking that rule, and because of that everything is going to fall apart. But as my lips make contact with his, as my grip on him tightens, I know I don't care, because all that matters is that we're here, and I'm making him moan in pleasure, and he's begging for more. All that matters is his neck is tilting backward as I'm worshiping the expanse of tanned skin with delicate kisses that no longer surprise us, because we've both come to accept the gentleness that I shower on him.
Even now, I know he's going to regret this. He's always been an emotional fool. I should have seen this coming. I've been playing this game long enough to know when to end it. No matter what they say, they always become attached. They always want what is impossible to have. I was an expert at this, I am an expert, never allowing them to stay long enough to make me feel, never long enough for us to break the final rule. I'm obsessed with the rules because they're there to keep people like us from doing exactly what we're doing now. They're there to keep people like me from caring because nothing good happens whenever I care.
He's breathing my name, his breath tickling my heated skin. I can feel our bodies slick with sweat, sliding against each other and he wraps his legs around my waist.
Why didn't I stop this? I knew it was happening; I saw it happening. Every time we met, every time we fucked, every time we touched, every harsh word, every kiss, every glance, every breath... We were getting too involved, hopelessly tangled, ridiculously intertwined, and we didn't stop. Even as the coils thickened, we didn't stop. I was stronger, I was experienced, but I didn't stop him. Instead, I allowed him to wrap himself around me like he's doing now. I allowed him to drag me into this web with him. I know this will never end well, I know in the end he'll end up a broken shell. Guilt will rack his body, tear him apart from the inside out. I can tell, every time we've been together I can see the guilt shimmering beneath the surface in those expressive eyes. How he's managed to hide it from his lover for so long, I'll never know. Maybe it has something to do with the immense love I know he holds for that man.
I crush my lips against his as his breathing speeds up even more. He's getting close. I can feel the tightening of his body, preparing to be snapped taut.
This isn't going to end well. He loves him, I'm no fool to not know that. He loves that man as much as I hate the bastard. Once upon a time, I never cared, I didn't give a shit about that man's existence. As long as he didn't find out, we could keep doing this. Eventually, that man got a name and a face. I remember the first time I met him. I'd laughed my fucking ass off on the inside. The arrogant prick had no idea that I was letting his little blond lover fuck me, and blondie was enjoying every moment of it. Back then, all I felt was cool disregard. I didn't give a shit that his family name is plastered on one of the tallest buildings in Tokyo because - guess what - so is mine.
When did that cool disregard change to deep seated hatred that made me want to break that pale slender neck every time I saw it? When did it start pissing me off whenever blondie got dressed up to go see that bastard, or called in to say he couldn't make it because his lover had set up an impromptu date? When did my chest start feeling like it was being shredded whenever I thought about him and his lover? When did I start making the irrational demand to do the fucking even though I knew his lover was still in Tokyo, and they would be together the very same night? When did he start letting me fuck him when his lover was in Tokyo, and the chances of him getting caught were so high?
I increase the force of my thrusts as I reach down to pump his weeping erection. I'm groaning and telling him how good he feels. It's too much, and he explodes all over my hand. His seed is hot as it spews between us. His muscles tighten and the sound of him screaming my name drags me down with him, and before I realize it, I'm coming deep inside him. We didn't use a condom this time. Just another risk to add to the long list of fuck ups we've already compiled. I come, groaning his name loudly. I collapse unto him, still buried inside him. I can hear his breath coming in short bursts. On shaky arms, I push myself up to meet those blue eyes. Except they're closed and there are two wet trails flowing down his scarred cheeks.
"Look at me." I demand.
He shakes his head and tries to cover his eyes with his arm. This only pisses me off. Kami, does he even understand how much I need to see his eyes focused on me? me, and only me? I pull out of him roughly and I see him grimace slightly in discomfort. With a growl, I reach out and yank his arm out of the way.
"I said - Look at me!"
The tears are flowing in steady streams now, and he slowly opens his eyes to reveal two, stunning blue pools, brimming with unshed tears.
It's on display, and I think my heart has stopped beating. I can see it - The final and most important rule being broken; and from now on, there is no turning back. I just know I'll look back to this point, some time later, and realize the crashing sound I've heard wasn't my blood pounding in my ears, but our lives falling apart around us in a million broken pieces. We stare at each before he finally breaks the silence. Reaching up, he traces the scar on my forehead, brushing aside the crimson strands stuck to my skin.
"I love him... God knows I love him, with everything that I am... So why do I feel like I can't live without you?"
The final rule has broken, and the first piece has fallen. I know this. Yet, I'm still leaning forward to kiss him and devour his lips, even as his tears keep flowing.
I shouldn't be doing this. I should push him away, tell him to get the fuck out. I should be me, the ruthless heartless me. What happened to me? Who am I now? Who is this person kissing the blond back and feeling invincible? I have no right. No right at all! Because he isn't mine. He was never mine to begin with. And no matter how hard I try to pretend, and no matter how much he tells me he needs me, I know he needs him too. For that simple reason, for his selfishness, all of our lives will come tumbling down. I know this, yet I do nothing to stop it.