fire
The...place there were in--it couldn't be called a room, it was far too small to have such a large title--smelled of sex and blood. Not an unusual aroma for the two, but one that made their close confines all that more comfortable. It settled on the lovers as if it was a thick blanket, a protection against the world outside. Still, even as it embraced the two, the aroma began to fade, sucked away by the vents in the ceiling. But that was always the way, wasn't it? A few stolen moments of passion to bring warmth back to an empty life.
In the darkness, one of the lovers sighed, an exhalation of warmth and weariness that brushed his companions face like the ghost of a kiss. "We have to leave soon."
The other nodded, eyes closed even in the dark, back sore from where passion had pressed him against the shelves that lined the closet. It was a dull, throbbing pain, one that hadn't been noticed while in the throes of their lust, but felt now as heat in their blood faded. "Couldn't we stay just a moment or two more?"
His lover shook his head. "I'm sorry." Thin fingers traced a pattern of pure fire on his exposed skin, left blazing trails that could be seen only behind the closed eyes. The cornered one, the one who had been pressed against the shelves, pushed up to the wall in the urgency of their clandestine meeting, shuddered at the touch.
"I know."
Another shudder, and then away from the shelves and strong, calloused hands searched for missing pants, an errant sword, another moment in this protected bubble. A brief flash of white teeth in something that was not a smile as the objects were found. The sharp intake of breath as preparation for the next scene in this act.
"Sven..."
"Don't. It'd be harder for both of us if you actually had to hurt me. Or I you." The sharp flash of the blade, seen even in this warm, moist dark. A muffled cry as steel nipped at flesh, shredded cloth. Delicate arms wrapped around the pained boy, gentle fingers wiped the tears from black eyes.
"Oh Sven."
A sniffle, a gasp as the sweat of lust ran into the shallow cuts that hurt even more than anything else inflicted on this scarred flesh. Then another embrace, another kiss stolen in dark secret. "I'll go first."
"All right. I'll see you again?"
"Of course. I couldn't live with out you." Another kiss, this one flavored by the salt of bitter tears. And then out into the blinding light, another expulsion from the comfortable dark of a strange womb, another stumbling, weak kneed walk, an attempt at dexterity when every last measure of energy has been drained away by love. Sweat covered, and blood covered now as shallow cuts weep into the cloth of shredded clothes. The noise of friends', cries of alarm at his apparent weakness. Then, capture by thin milk-white arms and golden hair that gleams harshly in the merciless light.
"Sven!"
"Goddess, what happened to you?"
"I had a run in with Lotor." The pilot must try hard not to smile at this statement, not let his exhausted frame affect his mind and let something slip.
"Did you kill him?"
And now a struggle not to recoil at those words, the same words always asked of him. "No. He escaped again. But next time I'll get him."
And then he will be mine forever.
And, at that, he finally smiles.
Voltron
Feed Todesengel
|