Love in All its Forms

Title: LOVE IN ALL ITS FORMS
Warnings: M/M, slight non-con, anal, slight bdsm. If you don\'t like it then don\'t backpedal NOW. Flames, while comical, are not accepted.
Disclaimer: I OWN these two characters. Steal and I\'ll sic my killer attack gnomes on you.
PLEASE REVIEW!! ^_^

He thinks I can’t find him here, off in his own little edge of the universe.

He thinks he’s safe from the beast where he sits in his lonely little room pondering over God knows what boring subjects…like history or philosophy. Bah. Ignorant little child that he is.

I honestly don’t know why I keep such a drab little creature around. I’m sure any number of people would honestly say that it’s for the sex. I’m not exactly known for my chastity and I’m EXTREMELY well known for getting what I want…even if that certain something doesn’t want me. It’s too bad he didn’t realize that the more he fought against his inevitable destiny with me, the hotter my lusts burned for him. Not even Hell can blaze as bright as I when I am on the hunt.

Of course such a little moth can only flutter away from the flame for so long before it is drawn in. He was the same. He still is.

I suppose that is what truly keeps me interested….more than his inhumanly tight little ass or the amazing way he can use his mouth. It’s the fight that he puts up each and every single time. No matter how badly I have beaten him in the past, he always manages to erect a new bulwark against my continuing assaults. It’s the amazing ARROGANCE that an insignificant beast like him can radiate even in the face of my superiority! Perhaps if he would just lie down and give up I would finally move on to a…more worthy prey if you will.

Such a waste of my time and talent this little moth is. His appearance is less than desireable…with those ridiculous glasses that magnify his purple eyes to buggish proportions and the annoyingly shaggy way he wears his coarse mousy brown hair. His clothes are the worst though, considering that apparently no one informed him that sweat pants and t-shirts are the most hideous thing on the planet, especially on his skinny little ass. I can’t even stand to be seen in public with him, the little eyesore.

Even his habits are remarkably mundane when they’re not being hideously annoying. I can see him now through that tiny crack in his bedroom door (he is too negligent to even close the damn thing!....although…I would have found my way in anyway), with his buggy eyes behind those hideous glasses and his straight white teeth gnawing away at a pencil. I could put that mouth to SUCH better use. He’s drumming his fingers against the wood of his desk in a way that makes my spine itch with irritation. I want to grab that wrist and force him to that immaculately clean floor with it!

Such a pretty thought that is…to imagine him yelling his insults at me while I bend him to my will. His long, slender arm bent up over his head, pinned by my own while I ravish his mouth to shut up his inane little excuses. Pest. In my mind’s eye I see it, his struggles to throw me off making that shirt ride up to expose his moon pale abs which somehow remain toned even though I can’t imagine him at a gym. He realizes his folly and tries to slap me, only to find both hands pinned above his head, thrusting him into such a delicious position of unwilling submission. It only takes one hand to hold him down against the ugly mahogany carpet he insists on so my off hand is free to entertain other parts of his body…more forbidden, lustful parts of his thin little frame.

Just the thought of that aloof little bastard fighting beneath me is enough to make my nethers go hard with delight. I want him. I want him so bad I can already taste the salt of his sweat on my tongue. No matter his protests tonight I’ll have him just as I have him every night. He can fight me all he wants, but the flames are burning higher and the moth is bound to be dragged in. Unable to contain my aching desire another moment I push open his door with an ominous creek and walk onto that dark, thick carpet from my fantasies. He’s had enough time to himself. It’s time to feed the growling blaze.

*~~~*

I know he’s there, breathing heavilly by the crack in my door.

He thinks I’m too ignorantly lost in ramblings to possibly notice him spying on me like the sick voyeur he is. Hmph. That pompous, preening peacock is probably undressing me with his eyes like he always does.

I can’t say that I reasonably understand why I continue to stay with him…why I don’t call the police everytime he decides to break into my home. Of course his screaming fans would tell me that it’s because of his boundless and amazing charm, because of his outrageous sex appeal or some other nonsense like that. No matter how wild he can drive me in bed I don’t think that can possibly be the only thing. Maybe it’s his uncontrollable ego that drags me back every time…that damn self-assuredness that I want to snuff out of existance. One day I’ll crush it. Crush it right out of him.

A peacock can only preen so long before his feathers fade and fall away.

Is that what keeps me under him and in his bed? Is that what keeps me spreading my legs for him whenever he decides to get horny for no reason at all (and believe me he does)? I suppose I do find it fascinating that no matter how hard I try to turn him away and rip his arrogance to shreds, he still manages to come back each time with that nasty little smirk of his. No matter how much it irks him that there’s one person in the world who won’t drop like a drooling moron at his feet, he still returns like clockwork to try again, simply oozing poise and ego like a faucet. It amazes me that one human, one spoiled and insignificant human at that, can have so much WILLPOWER! Maybe if I could actually crush a little of that spine he’d cease to interest me.

That featherbrained peacock is such a waste of my time and ingenuity. His appearance is gaudy at best (and absolutely garish at the very worst), what with those HIDEOUS contacts that turn his eyes the most painful shade of electric blue. His eyes are slitted and sinister and the glitter he smears around them is enough to make a man go absolutely blind. His hair is no better, a sickly shade of platinum blonde that could make a discoball jealous all strung through with false highlights as if it will take the focus off of his atrocious taste in garments! If that man walks into my house again with those horrible red leather pants I will absolutely kill him and burn the evidence. Apparently he was never informed that not everyone wants to be aware when you’ve got a stiffy the size of a small horse. It embarasses me to think that we may even have to GLANCE at each other in public.

His personality is enough to drive a man insane! Like right now he’s spying on me, invading my personal space and insulting my intelligence to boot….as if I didn’t actually know he was there. Sometimes he acts so childish it makes me want to rip my hair out by the roots and run screaming into the middle of a four-way intersection. I’m tempted just to get up and slam the door in his face and break his perfect little model nose. Ha! That would show him! Of course then he’d yell in that surprisingly shrill voice of his and whine and cry and bleed all over my fucking carpet! Then I’D have to clean it up because I doubt the cretin can even wipe his ass by himself! Of course whenever he’s mad I pay for it up the arse…quite literally mind you.

God what a thought…to be forced to the floor (for some reason that man has a fetish for the blasted floor) by his powerful grip while he growls out something that sounds akin to a punishment threat. I can’t fight him. He’s too strong, pinning me to the ground with as much of his large body as he can get over me with that exceedingly arrogant voice droning on and on. Raving egomaniac. I can try to yell at him all I like but I just end up with his teeth buried in my shoulder or neck with his hips crushing against mine. It’s like having sin itself trying to rape you one your own floor, not caring what nasty fluids he gets on your precious carpet.

I feel heat rise unbidden into my physical groin, the mental stimulation doing wonders for the reproductive organs. I bite back a little subconscious moan in the knowledge that the bastard is STILL watching me from that small opening between my door and the frame, not knowing what kind of sick pleasure he’d get from hearing me. I don’t care how much my body craves him, I won’t go to him first. I won’t simper on my knees like a bitch in heat for that cat-eyed monstrosity. Of course I don’t have long to wait. My door creaks open and the bird of prey comes to collect his prize.

*~~~*

The little bitch turns to face me, acknowledging my presence as my shadow darkens his already dim doorway. He frowns darkly at me and I can only smirk as our little dance begins again. There it is in his eyes…the hatred of me that makes me ache for his hot body. How can such a homely little creature possibly stomach so much bile in one sitting? It would be cute if it didn’t provide some small sense of niggling annoyance. He doesn’t even have to speak for me to know how much he disapproves of me…his huge eyes speak volumes and my smirk grows all the more.

Of course, breaking an almost perfect moment as only he can, the obnoxious prat decides to speak up, “I suppose I don’t have to ask why you’re here.”

A statement. How very droll of him. Such a confident little moth.

*~~~*

I watch that unforgiveably arrogant peacock stalk across my floor as if he owns it and it’s enough to drive me into a frown. He smiles a disturbing little smile at that and I’m highly tempted to sneer. Of course I only know that it would amuse him further and I have no desire to gag right now. It’s such an unpleasant feeling. As if sensing how much I wanted to darken my frown, he smiles wider and I simply can’t contain myself from speaking to him.

Practically spitting the words out, I watch his face as a bit of annoyance creases his smile. His reply makes my skin crawl and I turn away from him even as that sickeningly sweet voice rolls over me like condensed molasses.

“I needed a fix so I came to see my favorite whore. I let myself in. You don’t mind do you?”

*~~~*

The look on his face as he turns away from me is enough to make my groin practically calcify it gets so hard. God it’s so fun when he’s like this, when I have to force the ugly little moth to come to the flame whether he likes it or not. He thinks he can just turn away from my light without any further ado? Well he is quite wrong. I have a little urge in my pants that’s not going to let this arrogant nobody just ignore me and it’s about to make itself known.

I kicked off my shoes at the door so that my feet made only the barest of shuffling sounds as they’re devoured by that carpet the color of dried blood, sucked down into the woven quagmire. With only two or three long strides I get across his small room and grab ahold of his narrow little shoulder through the tacky t-shirt he was wearing, only mildly surprised when he tried to slap me for touching him. Just as in my dream I snatch that wrist in mid-air, grinning in triumph down into his grimacing face. Unwilling to give up even though he knows he’s going to lose he struggles, the writhing throwing him from his chair and onto the floor, conventiently pulling me on top of him, my knee between his skinny legs.

His expression of hatred is nothing short of delicious and I lean down to steal a kiss from his tightly pursed lips. One can only imagine my shock as the little whore manages to slap me hard across the mouth with the one free hand I’d forgotten. For a moment I’m stunned before I can feel a small trickle of warmth leak out of the side of my mouth from where my cheek had crashed against my teeth under the surprising force of the slap.

He made me BLEED! The little bitch was in trouble now and I only hoped he knew it!

*~~~*

I could only watch as the blood ran down his chin and inside I felt a small sense of satisfaction that I had ruined the spoiled little brat’s face even a minute amount. That small ounce of red was a sign of a small victory for me and the rage in his eyes was the sign of an even larger one. He was crumbling. Crumbling for me.

I can’t do anything else but yelp as his powerful fingers dig into the front of my shirt, shredding it open with nothing more than sheer force and even my hardest struggles can’t keep him from yanking the garment up and binding both my hands with it, leaving me exposed and vulnerable to his cannibal lust. I shiver as he slaps me hard across the face, knocking my glasses across the room while his other hand is busy ripping at my sweat pants in a frenzy. Another slap across the opposite cheek causes an absolute tremor through my body, one that he’s sure to feel.

The hand that was once abusing my face moves to wrap itself up in my hair, tugging almost violently while his mouth ravages my neck. I can already feel the bruises of possession forming there and there is a painful sting beginning in the roots of my hair where his fingers tear at my locks. Down in my groin I can feel that he’s forced off my sweatpants and is almost brutally manhandling that which makes me my father’s son. The very thought that I’m helplessly allowing this to happen just makes me groan a bit and I know I am doomed.

*~~~*

I wasn’t focusing on him. Wasn’t seeing the bitch squirming and groaning beneath me, finally getting caught in my fire. I listen as the blaze ate him alive, consuming him and burning him to a little cinder of lust. A particularly loud groan draws my eyes down to him and what I see takes away what little self control I might have still had. Below me the drab little moth is sprawled, his chest heaving, sweat beginning to form on his pearly pale body, and his arms bound where I left them. This was it. I was lost.

With I snarl I finish ripping off those hideously annoying sweatpants and spread his legs wide, my fingers digging into the creamy thighs and surely leaving bruises. Hardly able to fully function with my fingers anymore, I simply rip open the fly of my leather pants and reveal my throbbing erection. Once again I find myself exceedingly grateful that I’ve never much seen the point in underwear, especially when I decide to pay the moth a visit. I can see his eyes widen as he realizes what my intent is, but I really couldn’t care less if he feels like being afraid of the one-eyed-snake right now. I have more pressing matters to worry about.

Still in a mild panic, he tries to close his thighs on me and I can hear myself growl like an animal, my control quite firmly gone. He won’t fight me. Not now. I won’t let him. To prove this I grab ahold of those legs again and force them apart for my entry. He’s gone dry before so he can just suck it up and take it. Besides he did bring this all on himself…or rather in himself. Forcing him to stay open for me, I lunge forward and practically tear into him all the way to the hilt, stopping only to get my bearings when suddenly I feel something almost amazing.

Joined like this, I can feel his heartbeat. It flutters like a butterfly’s wings around my engorged member and I can’t help but gasp.

*~~~*

The scream is out of my mouth before I can stop it and for a moment all of time and space freezes for me behind a glaring curtain of bright white. My body feels like it is on fire, the heat racing up my skin as though I’d been doused in gasoline. I only have a moment to think before whatever was causing him to pause passes and he slams into me, the rug chaffing my back and another scream tearing my throat raw. This time there is no pause in between thrusts and he hurtles into me unforgivingly.

As he rides me he does not speak for once and I find the change quite stimulating. I dare to open my eyes and even through the astigmatism I can see his garish, radiant face contorted in desire. The only sounds he makes are pants and huffs, not even bothering to groan even though I know I have defeated him and he has been crushed if even for a few precious hours. I can only gloat for a few seconds before his pace increases and he hits something deep and special within me that whitens my vision again, causing me to cry out once more.

Together we jerk in ecstasy on the floor for as long as possible, like a machine on the verge of breakdown. His pace quickens inside of me and my whole body tenses like a rubber band about to snap. He slams in once more and my legs fly about his waist, holding him tight to me as we spasm in orgasm. His teeth are gritted into my shoulder as his heat spills into me and my back is arched dramatically off of the floor, my eyes wide, and my mouth open in a silent scream until at last it is over. Groaning, we both collapse and my vision grows more burry than usual before finally going black.

*~~~*

Again I lay panting on the floor, splayed over my impromptu partner I can not help but realize that I’ve been caught up in my own fires again. How is it that this arrogant little SOB can always do that to me? Still pondering this, I pull out of him and wince at a small sound, realizing there’s blood on my member. Damn the little rat for making me hurt him.

With a sigh I pick up his already sleeping form and carry him over to the bed, sort of tossing him in with some bit of care. I drag the downy blankets over his body and cast a mere glance at the bruises left on him, travelling up from the ones on hi hips to the ones that dotted his neck. Unbidden my eyes rose higher to study on his closed one that didn’t look nearly so buggish without those awful glasses. Sighing, I run my hand through his tousled, fluffy hair, not realizing why I couldn’t just pick up, dress, and leave him alone in the aftermath.

He was supposed to be drawn to MY flame, not I to his! What flame could this drab little mouse possibly have that could hold me? He didn’t worship me like my fans, didn’t try so hard to be near me, didn’t even try to seduce me! If so then why am I inexorably drawn to the point of crumbling in his presence!? To the point of madness!? Is it because he rejects me so hard? Is it the difference in him that I find myself longing for even though this man drives me insane with what could almost be called hatred?

With a heaving sigh I pull out my colored contacts and pop them into a nondescript little container which is set on the bedside table before laying down in bed with my back to the other man. It’s like an invisible thread binds us both together no matter how hard we wish it weren’t true. It wraps around our hearts like a boa constrictor and with every one of this little encounters it tightens until I want to scream in the oddest sort of pain I’ve ever felt. I burn and I shatter…but from the look in his eyes when he is awake…I see that he does too.

A/N: Well guys I\'m sorry that this story was so short and so bad ^_^. It was about five in the morning when I finally finished this and I still don\'t have any idea WHY I wrote it in the first place. I know the boys are never given names but I thought it better for people to focus on behaviours rather than labels. This story was inspired in three parts by Golden Cain, Selfish Love, and Kizuna. Enjoy! Maybe we\'ll see more of them in the future, maybe not.