[ficlet] your pain, my thrill
Jul. 22nd, 2009 04:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
transient_wordsDisclaimer: I own nothing.
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: Johann was the most beautiful, yet terrifying thing he had ever seen. Tenma/Johann. NC-17, dark. Non-erotic smut.
Notes: I didn't notice how utterly unoriginal this concept is till I saw this fic. So no, I did not plagiarise. It just happens to be an unfortunate coincidence that our concepts were similar (please read that person's fic as well and give it the love it deserves <3). Feedback is appreciated, concrit is loved but please don't be uncivil.
Warning(s): Non erotic smut, bland prose and Oscar Wilde references. Song lyrics being used as a title? Ah, there's one factual error regarding the Dorian Gray portrait - will be fixed once I can think of how to reword that paragraph.
--
Those who see ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming.
...
The clock ticked as he felt his heartbeat quicken with every passing clang. Tenma didn't know where he was - everything had happened too quickly. He only knew that he'd been searching for Johann, and that he'd sensed someone's presence behind him – then, there had been a flash of pain, and the world had gone black.
And now he was waiting and waiting and waiting. For Johann to do something – anything.
If he didn't calm down soon, Tenma swore that he would suffer from a nervous breakdown; his whole body felt like a furnace just waiting for the ignition to set it ablaze. His head throbbed from where the barrel of the gun had landed against it – Roberto's work.
Indeed, Johann, dear Johann, rarely dirtied his hands when he could find someone to do the work for him instead.
Johann's blue eyes were fixed on him, and the young man's face bore the ever placid expression that chilled Tenma to the core. It wasn't that they were ugly – there was no trace of vehemence in them; it was the lack of anything that unnerved him.
He was like that portrait in Dorian Gray. Timeless, uncorrupted – and, like the eternally beautiful red rose, pricking your finger on it made you fall into a deep, deep slumber. Only that, unlike a fairytale, there was no true love's kiss to wake you up.
“I don't see why you were trying to kill me, Dr Tenma. You saved my life, didn't you?” Johann asked, his tone so pleasant and devoid of anything else that the older man shifted, trying to free himself from his constraints – the tight ropes binding his wrists to the wooden chair.
“You know exactly well why,” Tenma replied through gritted teeth as memories of what his saving Johann had rendered possible. So many people had died, and – if he didn't stop him – Tenma knew that many more would fall under the snare of Johann's charm.
Johann didn't seem to have heard. “I've always meant to repay you for giving me a second chance.”
Repay?
Tenma only hoped that it wasn't what he thought it was. But the cold smile that spread over Johann's features heightened his suspicions. He wrestled against the ropes, but the struggle only made them dig deeper into his skin – and it burnt, chaffing his already bruised wrists.
Hands bound, Tenma couldn't do anything as Johann unzipped his trousers and - with the gracefulness that he always exhibited – went down on his knees and made use of his tongue, making the other man bite his lips so forcedly that tissue tore, and blood pooled into Tenma's mouth.
But Johann didn't stop, only licking Tenma's erection even more swiftly.
Head crashing against the wall, Tenma groaned immediately and he cursed. His body had betrayed him in the worst manner possible. Since Tenma had rejected Eva, he had not engaged in any kind of sexual relations. Sex had just not been his utmost priority: saving lives, however, had been and always would be, Tenma admitted to himself as Johann's mouth engulfed his cock.
“Stop this,” he whispered, shuddering as the need to release started to become more and more prominent. “Please stop. It's wrong.”
Johann stopped, momentarily. Smiling, he asked: “Aren't you pleased? Maybe, it's not enough.”
But he didn't wait for Tenma to reply. Instead, with movements that were not the least bit awkward, divested himself of his trousers. Tenma looked away, not able to meet Johann's gaze. Nausea washed over his body, making his teeth clatter and knees shudder. As each of his thoughts hollered "No, no, no", Johann observed him (and delighted in it with the relish of a Holy Inquisitor slowly but surely driving his victim into the sweet abyss of insanity).
He lowered himself down on Tenma's erection, not even breaking out in a hiss or gasp; he hadn't even used preparation of any kind. If Johann ever felt any kind of discomfort, his face didn't betray it. Collected, that was the only word Tenma could have associated with Johann right now – maybe, it wasn't even that because Johann's eerie quietness wasn't anything out of this world.
And then he started to move – slowly as if they had had all time in the world. Tenma grunted, sweat breaking down his forehead as he tried his utmost not to thrust into Johann – blood had made Johann's tight entrance slicker, and – with clenched jaws – Tenma buried his nails into the chair. And yet, it was futile, even though he clenched his jaw so hardly that it hurt, and his nails were digging so deeply that that they were breaking.
In spite of the disgust coiling within him, Tenma moved his hips, driving himself into the tightness with a fierceness that had hitherto been unknown to him; the chair creaked as he slammed upwards over and over again – the creaking was, apart from his pants and ticking of the clock, the only audible sound in the room.
Then, Tenma gasped – loudly – as he spilled himself inside of Johann. The young man only smiled, and then kissed him (gently, nearly timidly and with an affection that made Tenma's eyes widen) – taking in the bitter taste of blood as well; the red liquid trickled down Johann's lips as he broke the kiss, again facing Tenma with that unsettling look before he moved to nibble the older man's left ear.
Tenma only trembled, not wanting to hear anymore but helpless (bound to Johann by fate, by fortune, by destiny – simply bound to him).
“Don't think I'll ever let you go,” Johann whispered suddenly – his voice calm, nearly gentle-sounding. “With this, a part of me will always live on in you.” His fingers brushed against Tenma's black (now long-grown) hair and Johann whispered into his ear: “Even if you kill me, you'll never get rid of me.”
Tenma shook his head, breaking out into hollow laughter which resounded through the room like a gunshot fired in the midst of a wasteland – barren, and with only the wind blowing harshly, kicking pebbles up in the air for a millisecond or two. “You've already taken possession of me, Johann. Even if I kill you, I won't be free. Not now, not ever.”
You've taken possession of me – entirely.
...
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: Johann was the most beautiful, yet terrifying thing he had ever seen. Tenma/Johann. NC-17, dark. Non-erotic smut.
Notes: I didn't notice how utterly unoriginal this concept is till I saw this fic. So no, I did not plagiarise. It just happens to be an unfortunate coincidence that our concepts were similar (please read that person's fic as well and give it the love it deserves <3). Feedback is appreciated, concrit is loved but please don't be uncivil.
Warning(s): Non erotic smut, bland prose and Oscar Wilde references. Song lyrics being used as a title? Ah, there's one factual error regarding the Dorian Gray portrait - will be fixed once I can think of how to reword that paragraph.
--
Those who see ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming.
...
The clock ticked as he felt his heartbeat quicken with every passing clang. Tenma didn't know where he was - everything had happened too quickly. He only knew that he'd been searching for Johann, and that he'd sensed someone's presence behind him – then, there had been a flash of pain, and the world had gone black.
And now he was waiting and waiting and waiting. For Johann to do something – anything.
If he didn't calm down soon, Tenma swore that he would suffer from a nervous breakdown; his whole body felt like a furnace just waiting for the ignition to set it ablaze. His head throbbed from where the barrel of the gun had landed against it – Roberto's work.
Indeed, Johann, dear Johann, rarely dirtied his hands when he could find someone to do the work for him instead.
Johann's blue eyes were fixed on him, and the young man's face bore the ever placid expression that chilled Tenma to the core. It wasn't that they were ugly – there was no trace of vehemence in them; it was the lack of anything that unnerved him.
He was like that portrait in Dorian Gray. Timeless, uncorrupted – and, like the eternally beautiful red rose, pricking your finger on it made you fall into a deep, deep slumber. Only that, unlike a fairytale, there was no true love's kiss to wake you up.
“I don't see why you were trying to kill me, Dr Tenma. You saved my life, didn't you?” Johann asked, his tone so pleasant and devoid of anything else that the older man shifted, trying to free himself from his constraints – the tight ropes binding his wrists to the wooden chair.
“You know exactly well why,” Tenma replied through gritted teeth as memories of what his saving Johann had rendered possible. So many people had died, and – if he didn't stop him – Tenma knew that many more would fall under the snare of Johann's charm.
Johann didn't seem to have heard. “I've always meant to repay you for giving me a second chance.”
Repay?
Tenma only hoped that it wasn't what he thought it was. But the cold smile that spread over Johann's features heightened his suspicions. He wrestled against the ropes, but the struggle only made them dig deeper into his skin – and it burnt, chaffing his already bruised wrists.
Hands bound, Tenma couldn't do anything as Johann unzipped his trousers and - with the gracefulness that he always exhibited – went down on his knees and made use of his tongue, making the other man bite his lips so forcedly that tissue tore, and blood pooled into Tenma's mouth.
But Johann didn't stop, only licking Tenma's erection even more swiftly.
Head crashing against the wall, Tenma groaned immediately and he cursed. His body had betrayed him in the worst manner possible. Since Tenma had rejected Eva, he had not engaged in any kind of sexual relations. Sex had just not been his utmost priority: saving lives, however, had been and always would be, Tenma admitted to himself as Johann's mouth engulfed his cock.
“Stop this,” he whispered, shuddering as the need to release started to become more and more prominent. “Please stop. It's wrong.”
Johann stopped, momentarily. Smiling, he asked: “Aren't you pleased? Maybe, it's not enough.”
But he didn't wait for Tenma to reply. Instead, with movements that were not the least bit awkward, divested himself of his trousers. Tenma looked away, not able to meet Johann's gaze. Nausea washed over his body, making his teeth clatter and knees shudder. As each of his thoughts hollered "No, no, no", Johann observed him (and delighted in it with the relish of a Holy Inquisitor slowly but surely driving his victim into the sweet abyss of insanity).
He lowered himself down on Tenma's erection, not even breaking out in a hiss or gasp; he hadn't even used preparation of any kind. If Johann ever felt any kind of discomfort, his face didn't betray it. Collected, that was the only word Tenma could have associated with Johann right now – maybe, it wasn't even that because Johann's eerie quietness wasn't anything out of this world.
And then he started to move – slowly as if they had had all time in the world. Tenma grunted, sweat breaking down his forehead as he tried his utmost not to thrust into Johann – blood had made Johann's tight entrance slicker, and – with clenched jaws – Tenma buried his nails into the chair. And yet, it was futile, even though he clenched his jaw so hardly that it hurt, and his nails were digging so deeply that that they were breaking.
In spite of the disgust coiling within him, Tenma moved his hips, driving himself into the tightness with a fierceness that had hitherto been unknown to him; the chair creaked as he slammed upwards over and over again – the creaking was, apart from his pants and ticking of the clock, the only audible sound in the room.
Then, Tenma gasped – loudly – as he spilled himself inside of Johann. The young man only smiled, and then kissed him (gently, nearly timidly and with an affection that made Tenma's eyes widen) – taking in the bitter taste of blood as well; the red liquid trickled down Johann's lips as he broke the kiss, again facing Tenma with that unsettling look before he moved to nibble the older man's left ear.
Tenma only trembled, not wanting to hear anymore but helpless (bound to Johann by fate, by fortune, by destiny – simply bound to him).
“Don't think I'll ever let you go,” Johann whispered suddenly – his voice calm, nearly gentle-sounding. “With this, a part of me will always live on in you.” His fingers brushed against Tenma's black (now long-grown) hair and Johann whispered into his ear: “Even if you kill me, you'll never get rid of me.”
Tenma shook his head, breaking out into hollow laughter which resounded through the room like a gunshot fired in the midst of a wasteland – barren, and with only the wind blowing harshly, kicking pebbles up in the air for a millisecond or two. “You've already taken possession of me, Johann. Even if I kill you, I won't be free. Not now, not ever.”
You've taken possession of me – entirely.
...
