Carnival without Lights
folder
Drama › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
14
Views:
2,669
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Drama › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
14
Views:
2,669
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Worry
Jesse had ghosts and, although Rupert didn’t see them, he believed in them. It wasn’t that Daniel was a secret—Jesse had already confessed that much—but Rupert still felt that he was holding back on something. He knew some things. Daniel liked his freakish BDSM stuff and Jesse didn’t. Daniel took it too far too often. Daniel took it way too far and Jesse left him…
There were a lot of holes in that story, like what was “way too far” and why did he let it keep going after the first time it simply went “too far”. Rupert wasn’t sure if it was acceptable for him to ask. Still, they had been together three years whereas he and… … /forget his name…/ …had been together for five. Five years of lies. Asking Jesse if he’d add to the story was like asking to be lied to again. What he knew was true—shouldn’t he be satisfied with that?
“You’re worried about something,” Jesse said stiffly across the lunch table.
“/You’re/ worried about something,” Rupert replied with a smile. Jesse hated it when he worried, but he really couldn’t help it. This had been the third night that he’d woken to Jesse expressing some sort of discomfort. That was concerning.
“Rupert,” Jesse chided. The other frowned. Yes, Rupert was worried, and when he was worried all of the traits that Jesse loved disappeared. He lost his humor, his smiles were fake, his eyes were misty, he got pushy…
“Well how can I not be? You’re hiding something from me.” He spoke the words softly, but they still sounded reproachful and hurt. He always pushed the issue when he was worried. /Always/ But Jesse wouldn’t allow himself to start a fight over it.
“It’s got nothing to do with you.” So maybe not all of Rupert’s traits disappeared; he still listened. Rupert always listened. He listened even better when he was worried because he wanted to pick up on every vocal tone and every stammer, stutter, or pause.
Rupert stayed quiet for a moment, taking the time to take another bite of his butternut squash ravioli. The face he made while he ate it proved Jesse’s theory that he didn’t like it one bit correct. Well that was just fine. Jesse took a larger bite and swallowed it contentedly. /He/ liked it.
“Even if it’s not about me,” Rupert started, meeting Jesse’s apathetic gaze. It never did any good to challenge him on these subjects, but he still tried. One day, maybe, he’d break through. “Can’t I be worried for you?”
“No!” Jesse retorted. “You don’t need to be worried about me. It’s not even anything important—it’s irrelevant.” Rupert’s eyes held the phrase ‘If it doesn’t matter, why are you worrying about it?’ but he didn’t say it. “Keeping things to myself isn’t the same as lying, you know?” Rupert looked pained. “At least not when it has nothing to do with /us/.” Sure enough, Rupert darted his eyes away and they were growing misty. Next came the phony smiles.
Three years and Rupert still wasn’t finished suffering because of Lesley. He always thought he was being constantly lied to. He never pushed /that/ issue, never said ‘that’s a lie’ or asked ‘are you lying to me?’, but it was already obvious—even if he didn’t say it out loud. Jesse stopped his thought before it could progress into something worse. Who was he to judge? Wasn’t he still suffering because of Daniel?
Well, at least he didn’t try to pretend that Daniel never existed. But that was Rupert’s answer for every problem—forget about it. His parents disowned him—he didn’t have parents. Williamson had been his surname—he was no one’s son anymore so he became Williams. Lesley cheated on him—there was no Lesley.
“Yeah,” Rupert said with his fakest, weakest smile yet. “It’s fine. You’re allowed to have your privacy.” A fake laugh and he returned to his food.
000000000000000000000000000000000000
Jesse guessed that it could be called make-up-sex. They had fought, hadn’t they? And that argument reverted Rupert’s mind to Lesley and his infidelity. To Rupert, hiding something meant you were lying, but some things were best left undisturbed. Just because he had secrets didn’t mean he was cheating! Arguing it out with Rupert wouldn’t change anything though. Once the fake smiles and phony laughs came out it meant he would halfheartedly agree to anything and everything Jesse said. To outsiders it looked like he was giving up, to Jesse, who knew better, he was putting up a road block to keep the discussion from going on...even if it needed to.
Proactive bastard.
But Jesse didn’t want the fight to grow anyway, so he played along with Rupert’s antics. After they’d eaten their fill—Jesse the entire plate and Rupert four bites—Rupert stared heading for the sitting room. Jesse followed, tapped his shoulder, kissed him when he turned around and then simulated one-thing-leading-to-another.
To Rupert it probably sounded like he was moaning, but while Jesse laid face-down on the bed with his face pressed into the damp pillow he was actually calling out words. ‘Stop’ mostly. There was just something erotic about the word and the freedom he had to say it when with Rupert.
He just had to make sure Rupert couldn’t understand it, otherwise he really /would/ stop because Rupert listened.
Stop…
He used to not be allowed to say it with Daniel because that was the “word”. The word that meant “Okay, we’re done here. I can’t take this anymore. Please, stop.” Then it was supposed to be over. Daniel never seemed to catch on that the only dark fetish that Jesse had possessed was simulated rape. When you’re being raped you beg the attacker to stop.
Stop…That word /used/ to work with Daniel. But the last time…
He’d been screaming it like crazy, begging. “Please stop! Stop!” The one time he’d actually, truly, seriously, /desperately/ wished that it would stop, needed it to stop… Oh, he’d stopped. Daniel had stopped. Stopped long enough to say “Quit asking for me to stop. That’s not your decision.” Spoken so coldly, so apathetically…it was like he didn’t hold any affection for him. It was like he didn’t care about who he was hurting or how bad… Then he just returned to it—beating, raping, hurting, torturing, insulting, slowly suffocating—and ignored the screams that turned to coughs so violent that they produced blood.
Jesse fisted his hands in the sheets and screamed into the pillow, but with enough reserve that it didn’t sound like a scream. Rupert didn’t catch on, he was on the peak of ecstasy and he assumed Jesse was experiencing the same euphoria.
Jesse shuddered. The feeling of the pillow against his face was so familiar to that cloth bag. Damp with his sweat, damp with his tears. It was the same, but it had the ability to smother him. Jesse felt himself suffocating, but didn’t care to turn his head to the side to breathe easier. God how he hated that stupid black bag…Why did Daniel even need that thing? To protect his identity in the online videos he sold? Fine but when it was just the two of them…
Just the two of them together…outside on the streets, walking the town, shopping, going to movies…
Daniel had been perfect. Everything with Daniel had been fine except for when Jesse actually said ‘stop’ he meant…
“Stop!”
There were a lot of holes in that story, like what was “way too far” and why did he let it keep going after the first time it simply went “too far”. Rupert wasn’t sure if it was acceptable for him to ask. Still, they had been together three years whereas he and… … /forget his name…/ …had been together for five. Five years of lies. Asking Jesse if he’d add to the story was like asking to be lied to again. What he knew was true—shouldn’t he be satisfied with that?
“You’re worried about something,” Jesse said stiffly across the lunch table.
“/You’re/ worried about something,” Rupert replied with a smile. Jesse hated it when he worried, but he really couldn’t help it. This had been the third night that he’d woken to Jesse expressing some sort of discomfort. That was concerning.
“Rupert,” Jesse chided. The other frowned. Yes, Rupert was worried, and when he was worried all of the traits that Jesse loved disappeared. He lost his humor, his smiles were fake, his eyes were misty, he got pushy…
“Well how can I not be? You’re hiding something from me.” He spoke the words softly, but they still sounded reproachful and hurt. He always pushed the issue when he was worried. /Always/ But Jesse wouldn’t allow himself to start a fight over it.
“It’s got nothing to do with you.” So maybe not all of Rupert’s traits disappeared; he still listened. Rupert always listened. He listened even better when he was worried because he wanted to pick up on every vocal tone and every stammer, stutter, or pause.
Rupert stayed quiet for a moment, taking the time to take another bite of his butternut squash ravioli. The face he made while he ate it proved Jesse’s theory that he didn’t like it one bit correct. Well that was just fine. Jesse took a larger bite and swallowed it contentedly. /He/ liked it.
“Even if it’s not about me,” Rupert started, meeting Jesse’s apathetic gaze. It never did any good to challenge him on these subjects, but he still tried. One day, maybe, he’d break through. “Can’t I be worried for you?”
“No!” Jesse retorted. “You don’t need to be worried about me. It’s not even anything important—it’s irrelevant.” Rupert’s eyes held the phrase ‘If it doesn’t matter, why are you worrying about it?’ but he didn’t say it. “Keeping things to myself isn’t the same as lying, you know?” Rupert looked pained. “At least not when it has nothing to do with /us/.” Sure enough, Rupert darted his eyes away and they were growing misty. Next came the phony smiles.
Three years and Rupert still wasn’t finished suffering because of Lesley. He always thought he was being constantly lied to. He never pushed /that/ issue, never said ‘that’s a lie’ or asked ‘are you lying to me?’, but it was already obvious—even if he didn’t say it out loud. Jesse stopped his thought before it could progress into something worse. Who was he to judge? Wasn’t he still suffering because of Daniel?
Well, at least he didn’t try to pretend that Daniel never existed. But that was Rupert’s answer for every problem—forget about it. His parents disowned him—he didn’t have parents. Williamson had been his surname—he was no one’s son anymore so he became Williams. Lesley cheated on him—there was no Lesley.
“Yeah,” Rupert said with his fakest, weakest smile yet. “It’s fine. You’re allowed to have your privacy.” A fake laugh and he returned to his food.
000000000000000000000000000000000000
Jesse guessed that it could be called make-up-sex. They had fought, hadn’t they? And that argument reverted Rupert’s mind to Lesley and his infidelity. To Rupert, hiding something meant you were lying, but some things were best left undisturbed. Just because he had secrets didn’t mean he was cheating! Arguing it out with Rupert wouldn’t change anything though. Once the fake smiles and phony laughs came out it meant he would halfheartedly agree to anything and everything Jesse said. To outsiders it looked like he was giving up, to Jesse, who knew better, he was putting up a road block to keep the discussion from going on...even if it needed to.
Proactive bastard.
But Jesse didn’t want the fight to grow anyway, so he played along with Rupert’s antics. After they’d eaten their fill—Jesse the entire plate and Rupert four bites—Rupert stared heading for the sitting room. Jesse followed, tapped his shoulder, kissed him when he turned around and then simulated one-thing-leading-to-another.
To Rupert it probably sounded like he was moaning, but while Jesse laid face-down on the bed with his face pressed into the damp pillow he was actually calling out words. ‘Stop’ mostly. There was just something erotic about the word and the freedom he had to say it when with Rupert.
He just had to make sure Rupert couldn’t understand it, otherwise he really /would/ stop because Rupert listened.
Stop…
He used to not be allowed to say it with Daniel because that was the “word”. The word that meant “Okay, we’re done here. I can’t take this anymore. Please, stop.” Then it was supposed to be over. Daniel never seemed to catch on that the only dark fetish that Jesse had possessed was simulated rape. When you’re being raped you beg the attacker to stop.
Stop…That word /used/ to work with Daniel. But the last time…
He’d been screaming it like crazy, begging. “Please stop! Stop!” The one time he’d actually, truly, seriously, /desperately/ wished that it would stop, needed it to stop… Oh, he’d stopped. Daniel had stopped. Stopped long enough to say “Quit asking for me to stop. That’s not your decision.” Spoken so coldly, so apathetically…it was like he didn’t hold any affection for him. It was like he didn’t care about who he was hurting or how bad… Then he just returned to it—beating, raping, hurting, torturing, insulting, slowly suffocating—and ignored the screams that turned to coughs so violent that they produced blood.
Jesse fisted his hands in the sheets and screamed into the pillow, but with enough reserve that it didn’t sound like a scream. Rupert didn’t catch on, he was on the peak of ecstasy and he assumed Jesse was experiencing the same euphoria.
Jesse shuddered. The feeling of the pillow against his face was so familiar to that cloth bag. Damp with his sweat, damp with his tears. It was the same, but it had the ability to smother him. Jesse felt himself suffocating, but didn’t care to turn his head to the side to breathe easier. God how he hated that stupid black bag…Why did Daniel even need that thing? To protect his identity in the online videos he sold? Fine but when it was just the two of them…
Just the two of them together…outside on the streets, walking the town, shopping, going to movies…
Daniel had been perfect. Everything with Daniel had been fine except for when Jesse actually said ‘stop’ he meant…
“Stop!”