((A/N: This is based on a dream that I had in which I was our dear Allen. I don't need a therapist, so please don't ask in your reviews. I'm fine. C:
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN DGM. I just like to write about it.
Rating: HARD R. WARNING: Intense scenes of rape, VERY mature themes, and lots of angst on the parts of both Lavi and Allen. Read with caution.))
A DGM Fanfiction by Whiteface Spades
His feet pounded along the slick street with urgent speed, the clacking of his heavy Exorcist boots ringing through the silent air. Snow fell around him, the gentle flakes dancing with haste as his feet kicked them up from the cobblestones beneath him. Silver eyes glanced around wildly as he ran along, watching his surroundings for any sign of movement. A frightened look marred his beautiful face.
Hands grabbed him from somewhere in the darkness, the touch forcing a yelp out of his mouth. He was thrown to the icy ground, and his attacker forced his legs apart and fumbled at the zipper on his pants. The white-haired Exorcist gave a small cry muffled by the snow-covered rocks beneath his lips; that sound became a frantic squeak when he felt his pants come undone and slide down his thighs. The young Exorcist shivered when his underwear came down, trying desperately to move his arms from where they were pinned beneath him. Sobs caught in his throat as he desperately tried to catch enough breath to cry out for help, but the cold and the snow beneath him only obstructed his breathing and made his voice ragged and soft.
"Please…! Don't do this…I can't—AHHH!" The sentence stopped the instant the first thrust hit him. Tears welled up in those pretty silver eyes as the young Exorcist tried in vain to scrape together the concentration needed to invoke his Innocence. "P-Please…! D-Don't do this…STOP! PLEASE!" Allen's cries went unanswered, his voice echoing off of the cold stone walls of the buildings surrounding the street. All he could do was toss his head and scream. He screamed and screamed until he was hoarse, yet even then the painful, filling thrusts did not subside or relent.
'Oh my God,' was all Allen could think. 'I'm being forcibly taken on a cobblestone street in an empty village in England…by my own-' His thoughts were interrupted by a particularly deep thrust from behind him, causing a sharp bark of a cry to leave Allen's lips. His attacker made no sound, not even a grunt, just continued to press deeper and deeper into the helpless body in his hands. Allen felt sick. Thrust after painful thrust assaulted his ass, his hips, his back. The sharp, stabbing pain inside him mixed with the grating of the gravel and rocks on his palms made a horrible cocktail of nausea and shame rise up in the boy's throat like bile.
Silver eyes widened as that single moan reached his ears. His name…it had never sounded so filthy. Especially not coming off of those lips.
'Invoke!' The deadly talons of the Crown Clown came to life on Allen's delicate fingers, white fabric enveloping his slender shoulders and snaking down his bare thighs. With a snap of one chord of the Clown Belt he flicked his assailant back. Tears were pouring down his cheeks now.
Legs slick with sweat and other bodily fluids that were not his own, the young Exorcist struggled to get back on his feet and keep running, quickly tugging his pants up as he fled. He fumbled to fix his belt, feet pounding along a set route to nowhere. Before he knew it, those hands were back on him. He was thrown down again, face-up this time, staring his attacker in the face. His hands were bound above his head by a heavy orange scarf moments after his back hit the ground.
And yet, despite his cries and the tears rolling down his cheeks, the redheaded Bookman-in-training simply unzipped Allen's tight, sweat-soaked pants and yanked them down, pushed the boy's legs up to his chest, and began his methodical thrusting again. The screams started up once more, and again they went unnoticed. Allen looked pleadingly into the eye of the Bookman above him, broken promises and cries for relief flying from his cold lips. As if the sound annoyed him, Lavi leaned in and forced Allen into silence with a rough kiss, tucking the boy's legs over his shoulders in the process. The thrusts deepened, and Allen's cries began to seep through the slick gap between their lips, becoming more ragged and high-pitched with each breath that they had to take. Those slender arms struggled against the scarf in vain, eventually falling limp to the cobblestones beneath him when they could not undo the knot. Each push of those hips against his bruised ass tore another hole in his concentration, as though the redhead was trying to tear it to shreds. Tears of bitter regret and fear met the mixed saliva dripping from those hungry lips as they continued their assault against him: there was no way to call upon the Crown Clown now.
Allen's head fell to one side and his eyes became glazed over as his mind broke under the pain and frustration, and the protective indifference that formed in place of reason forced him to stop struggling. His limp body seemed to be enough of a toy for Lavi, who didn't seem to even notice a change in the boy he was fucking. Within that shell protecting Allen's shattered mind, he considered ways of hurting Lavi to get out of this situation. His arms were useless; he could always knee the side of Lavi's head, but his legs were trembling and too weak by now. A headbutt? Not possible…his neck was too weak. Maybe he could bite one of the redhead's lips when he tried to steal another kiss.
As if on cue, Lavi forced Allen to look at him and crushed his lips onto the younger's, that cruel tongue sliding along the boy's sealed lips and leaving them slick with saliva. Allen moved to tip his head back, but the Bookman-to-be held him in place and forced his lips apart, deepening the kiss to an almost painful degree. Just when Allen felt he had the strength to call upon the power of his Innocence, an odd feeling of remorse for the older Exorcist began to creep into his aching heart, rendering him unable to force himself to bite at the elder's lips.
Regardless of the circumstance…he was still in love with Lavi.
A soft moan of Allen's name was the only warning that the younger Exorcist received before the redhead finally came. Allen shivered as the warm, wet feeling spilled from inside of him onto his sweat-slicked thighs, making the sick feeling in his throat only get worse. The redhead collapsed on top of him, panting softly, the decency to pull out of the younger's abused asshole not even seeming to cross his mind. The white-haired boy took a moment during the Bookman's weakness to debate invoking his Innocence and ending the whole thing, but he elected to lie there instead. The feeling of being used like an old dishrag hit him, making more tears sting his eyes. Couldn't Lavi see that Allen was still deeply in love with him?
"…please…" Allen gasped when he could get air into his lungs, "…let me go…! C-Can't you see…? I love you…!"
"I know…" Lavi whispered, his warm, familiar breath tickling the side of Allen's neck. "But…I can't let you go…"
And the night continued like that. Allen would eventually get the strength to get away from the redhead, run a few paces and call for help, only to be thrown down and punished again. By the time that Allen had decided to stop trying, he had been fucked on the street, against a building, and over a bridge guardrail. The pain in his ass was so bad that he could barely stand to run. The sweat and cum that slicked his thighs and calves had even been smeared on the bottoms of his boots, making every step on the already-icy cobblestones slippery.
The sickest thing about the entire situation was that as it went on…Allen was starting to enjoy it. Pain was becoming pleasure. Cries for help were turning into moans of need. Running for his life was turning into a coy game of tag. And he knew that was his lover's game.
Now Lavi had him in a dark alley, pressed against a cold brick wall. Hands were gliding along the slick skin of his chest and stomach, their almost welcome touch making a whimper slip from the younger's reddened lips. Eventually one of those sinful hands slid past the waistband of Allen's underwear and ghosted over his stirring cock, making a heated moan pass his lips.
Lavi certainly hadn't lost his touch during foreplay.
When the sex began yet again, it wasn't unwelcomed. At this point, Allen had entirely lost sight of what was rape and what was consensual. He was a moaning, shivering mess of nerves and pleasure, his thighs and palms slick with sweat from the heat of desire. His hands found themselves in that fiery hair, on those flushed cheeks, running down that strong back. His legs curled around the redhead's waist, deepening his thrusts and pulling him closer. Moan after desperate, breathless moan passed his chapped, kiss-bruised lips, and he tossed his head in anguish with every rolling thrust of his lover's hips.
It had stopped being painful. Lavi was no longer his attacker; he was his lover once more. Love and desire replaced the fear and questioning in Allen's heart. All he wanted was more: more heat, more touch, more passion. The feeling of the cold snow rhythmically pressing against his back as Lavi continued to mercilessly pound into him mixed with the heat spiraling down into his gut, creating an erotic fog of emotion that was driving him to reciprocate to his lover's thrusts.
"A-aahh…! Lavi! Haahn…L-LAVI!"
"A-Allen…!" Lavi's soft moan was muffled by the heavy fabric of his lover's Exorcist coat, and he increased the speed of his thrusts to match the desperate rolling of Allen's needy hips.
'Why,' Allen thought, 'had I not given this to him earlier…?'
"Allen…you can't…leave me…"
Allen's eyes flew open. So Lavi was doing all this, had put him through this night of hell, only to try to keep them together? What kind of screwed up logic was the Bookman using?
"I wasn't…going to…! Lavi, I just wasn't ready for this…!" Tears were streaming down the younger Exorcist's face as he spoke, the sobs accompanying them and the painful thrusts causing them breaking his sentence into pieces small enough to stab the redhead's heart. "You…knew…that…!"
"You…and I have been…together for…long enough…! This should be comfortable…to you!"
"Lavi!" Allen cried, tightening his grip on the redhead's waist as the need to lose himself spiked. "I wasn't ready to give myself to you!"
The Bookman-to-be gave the panting, shivering Exorcist beneath him a pained look, but his hips did not stop pushing against Allen's backside. The pace only increased, earning a hot moan from Allen, whose head fell back onto the snowy cobblestones as he gripped at Lavi's fiery red hair. That single green eye watched the white-haired boy's pain-twisted face, mapping it out with a look of understanding that only Lavi, truly LAVI, could give.
'I did this…' That eye narrowed slightly. Lavi continued his fast-paced thrusts until Allen came, riding out the wave of ecstasy that came with his own release by focusing on the strands of white hair falling into his lover's sweat-soaked face.
Then, slowly, gently, even as the clouds began to disperse and the moon began to shine on them, Lavi leaned in and placed an honest kiss onto Allen's bruised lips.
"I am sorry, Allen…I just couldn't help myself. Fear of losing you makes me do strange things, and…well…" Lavi leaned back to scratch his head, sitting gently down on Allen's hips. "…I wanted you. It was getting to the point where simple touches and sweet words were not enough. I felt like I gave you what you wanted when it came to foreplay, yet I wanted to keep a part of you for myself…all I did was give to you: time, space, touch, everything. I wanted something back…and it was selfish of me."
Lavi blinked, confusion darkening his pretty green eye. Allen, the Allen that he had just forcibly raped five times, stared up at him with a smile on his lips and a few stray tears in his eyes. Before the redhead could open his mouth to rebuke the younger's statement, Allen raised a shaking hand and rested his fingertips onto his lips, silencing him.
"I…understand," Allen said softly, his voice quivering like a leaf in a strong breeze. "I held too much over your head…this is my fault, Lavi, not yours. If I had not been so stubborn, if I had not been so slow to react to your obvious feelings for me…this could have been avoided. If I had given myself to you when you had first requested it-"
"That isn't how this works, Allen," Lavi spoke up. "Things between lovers are supposed to be equal. I give, you give. I get, you get. If you didn't want it, you should have told me your boundaries before I lost it…" Lavi gently rested a hand onto the white-haired boy's head, rubbing the star-spun strands lovingly. "Y'see…?"
Those tears finally wet Allen's cheeks as he leaned up to give the redhead a gentle hug. As the moon watched them, its white face seemed to give the younger Exorcist's hair just a touch of an angelic glow…for it was truly a miracle that Allen could forgive such a snowbound heart.