Author's Note: Just a short VF Halloween ficlet (not fluff) to celebrate the day. I hope everyone out East is safe and warm and dry. *hugshugs*
"Your eyes beg me so prettily to do depraved things to your body."
"You say that, but your body says differently."
"What is it, my Akihito?" What do you want?"
"Let me go."
Akihito grunted as Asami thrust into the hilt, a hoarse cry wrenched from his lips. "Asami..."
"That's right, let me hear your voice."
Asami spread Akihito's knees wide and leaned in to cover those parted, panting lips with his, tasting the sweet honey of Akihito's mouth as he fucked him with deep, hard strokes. Akihito's cries grew long and guttural, his body penetrated with a primal desperation. Asami's thick cock drove into him again and again with intent to mark and claim.
It wasn't enough for Asami. The words must be said too.
"You're mine, Akihito. Mine." Asami groaned into Akihito's ear. "You'll never escape, and I'll never let you go."
Akihito's cock spasmed in Asami's hand, and he moaned sweetly, urging Asami's hips to snap faster, driving them both to a vision-whitening release. The weight of his body sagged onto Akihito, and he felt the boy's legs slide down the mattress to rest against his. Face buried in the crook of his neck, Asami breathed deeply of Akihito's scent.
He almost purred in bliss when Akihito's hands came up to stroke his back and shoulders in slow, tentative circles. His body covered the slender one beneath him, but Akihito didn't complain about needing to breathe. He stayed there silent and pliant as Asami closed his eyes to better capture the smooth, silk feel of Akihito's skin.
Eventually, as he always did, Akihito broke the truce. "We can't do this again." His soft, tender denial was belied by the gentle fingers now stroking through Asami's hair.
"Yes, we can," Asami said coldly, though inside he was anything but cold. Inner panic made him terse.
"Asami, please listen-"
"No matter how many times you ask for your freedom, the answer will always be no."
Akihito's sigh ruffled Asami's hair, raised goosebumps on the nape of his neck.
"It's not my freedom I want. It's yours."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"This is killing you. It's wrong."
"It doesn't matter. I'll pay whatever price it takes."
"Just to have me by your side?"
"Nothing else has any value."
"It doesn't have to be like this. I willbe with you. Just not like-"
"No!" Asami regretted the sharp tone when Akihito's body tensed beneath his. "I'm sorry," he said immediately, turning to press a trail of kisses along Akihito's collarbone. "I'm sorry." Tumultuous eyes met Akihito's, and Asami saw so much there, his heart squeezed in painful contraction. His mouth sought Akihito's, contrition and wild desperation fueling the kiss. "I need you. I need you, Akihito. I can't allow you to go. Stay with me."
Akihito stared up at him sadly.
"When was the last time you went to work?"
"Kirishima is handling it." Asami spoke dismissively.
"When was the last time you saw sunshine? That you ate a proper meal? That you showered?"
"Sunshine is overrated. I'll eat now and shower after, and even open the curtains if that will make you happy."
"Asami!" Shocked, Asami stared down at the flashing eyes of his young lover. Then his face softened in warm indulgence. It had been too long since he'd seen that fierce glare. Akihito softened too, a tiny, lopsided smile curving his mouth as if he knew what Asami was thinking. He probably did. His voice was gentle as he whispered with overwhelming compassion, "This isn't real."
"It is," Asami insisted like an obstinate child. "It's real."
"This isn't me. Not the me you want." Akihito cupped Asami's face with his hand.
"Don't say that." The broken sound to his words brought Akihito's other hand up.
"Why is it so bad to let me go, Asami?"
Asami's face twisted. "I never told you-not even once-I never told you that I love you."
A smile of rare beauty-Asami only wished he didn't know how rare-spread over Akihito's face. "But I know that, stupid. And you know that I love you, too."
He never knew how much time passed as Akihito held his heaving body, clung to him with such tenderness as Asami clung to him, salt tears pooling at the curve of Akihito's throat and shoulder. It seemed endless, but in the end, he lay there curled around his Akihito, hollowed out and weary, but ruthlessly aware of what he must do.
"Will you forgive me?" His voice was low and rough, the hoarseness making his tight throat ache even more.
"There's nothing to forgive."
He raised his head, one eyebrow raised significantly.
"All right, yes," Akihito amended with a little snort. "I forgive you."
"You promised that you'd still be with me..."
"I wasn't lying. It's true, Asami. Just trust me."
Asami nodded, knowing if he didn't do what must be done now, he would never bring himself to again. But there were Akihito's eyes, begging him so sweetly once again. The parted, pink lips, wet by that provocative slip of a tongue; Asami's head bent and he took that last proffered kiss, took it andAkihito and stamped himself so deep inside that he could never be forgotten, just as Akihito was already within him.
No. He couldn't do this. It was impossible, too much to ask of anyone, something like this. He pulled back, ready to offer his apologies, but his breath caught in his throat. Akihito stared up at him so trustingly.
If it's you,Akihito had said to him so long ago.
His eyes didn't waver from Akihito's bright, vibrant gaze, even as his hand swept to the far edges of the bed, and his fingertips broke and smeared through the red, sticky outline of the pentagram. For a brief, shining moment, Akihito fingers caressed his cheek, his lips. A faint whisper of his name hung in the air, an achingly sweet smile.
And then he was gone.
Asami curled up in the sloppy remains of the sheets, his face pressing the pillow to his face, the scent of Akihito still clear and fresh and soothing enough to lull him to sleep. He slept long and deep, and when he woke, it was morning, though the room was still dark. He staggered to the huge windows and pulled back the long drapes. The sunlight made him wince, but he stood staring out at the city beneath him and imagined a self-satisfied grin on an impudent face.
Right. Time to handle his business.
Kirishima was probably frantic by now, but he could always allow him to organize his music collection by way of recompense. He'd been dying to get his hands on it for ages. First things first, though.
Asami turned and took in the bodies of the men who had taken his Akihito away from him. Drained of all their blood, they were white as ghosts and stiff as mummies by this time, even the one who'd just had his veins spilled last night. He indulged himself for a long moment in their frozen countenances. Abject terror had never looked so good.
With a brisk mental shake, Asami turned away. First, he'd take a shower, then, he'd have a cup of coffee, and then, he would call someone to come and clean up the mess.