Narrative of Soul Against Soul
folder
Romance › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
3,579
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Romance › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
3,579
Reviews:
18
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.
To Failure
hello! some warnings... SLASH!! dont like it?? dont read it. this fic is gonna be a bit smutty with cross dressing, sub/dom play, and reference to various illicit substances used for the betterment of consciousness. Confused? Ask a hooker or befriend a dictionary.
KIDDING. The title is an AFI song from the "Art of Drowning" album, but the rest is mine. wanna play? just ask.
Tis my first smutty attempt so do tell me how I've faired. reviews make me dance. flames make me laugh. do please partake in either. enjoy!
*~*~*~*~*
CH 1 : To Failure
Joshua
I glared at cafeteria door thinking of his lanky, awkward frame, his messy gray and black hair, and his ugly dirty green eyes. Render Koln looked like a girl—a slutty gothic girl. He always wore these miniskirts that barely concealed his gender and heels so high that hookers feared for him. He pranced, literally pranced, through the hallways with his best friend. He was disgusting. To see him bouncing around in those skirts showing everyone the black sexy…uh no! No! I glared harder.
The thought of punching him in the ribs was terribly satisfying—much more satisfying then thoughts of Render’s…stop it! I imagined the sounds of his bones crunching, of his bloodcurdling screams begging me to stop his pain. It all made my heart race, but I waited. He would enter the cafeteria any second now, then it’d be over just as quickly. I would just follow him, punch, kick, run. Simple.
He came strolling in alone, which was odd. Usually, he had one of the punk girls on his arm, but he was dressed up today. Good. Render’s black miniskirt fell loosely, skimming the creamy tops of his long legs.
“Josh!” Pansy shouted in my ear, saving me from my own horrid mind in a saintly fashion. “Will you please stop drooling all over that weird goth kid?” Well, maybe not a saint, more of a bitchy cheerleader who was not supposed to like a weirder emo or be sitting with one of the tech theater kids.
“Render,” I grumbled not really listening.
“Wait! What?” Pansy flipped her wavy blonde hair and stared at me with pale green eyes hardened from years of pretending to be someone else. Pansy could’ve and should’ve been one of the punks, but her sister was head cheerleader. You know, family lines and such bullshit.
“His name is Render Koln,” I told her without realizing how soft my voice sounded. “And I am going to kick the shit out of him today.” I continued harshly praying that Pansy’s punk side wasn’t there today.
Shaking her head before fishing for her cigarettes, Pansy just laughed, “Replace kick with the word you really want.” As she found her pack, she looked to me mouthing F-U-C-K. “Besides, you remember what happened to the last two guys who tried,” she continued calculatingly before plastering on a fake smile as a few jocks passed.
About a year ago, two football freshmen decided that they would make a reputation for themselves. How do you ask? The meathead pair concluded beating up the cross-dressing, gothic junior was the best option.
They should’ve learned from their classmate who had tried for Kaylee and Trauma, a Lolita goth and a punk who were Render’s two best friends. Said classmate ended that first quarter with two black eyes, a broken nose, a cracked cheekbone and several affected ribs.
However, the jock couple did not learn. They readily ignored that obvious warning and approached Render one day before school in the courtyard. Neither made it to classes for the next week, and Render left with nothing but a bit of blood on his purple stilettos. As for the couple, let’s put it simply. Render fucked both their days up.
It was almost tradition since eighth grade that a new kid would try for Render and receive the worst beating of his life in return. It didn’t matter though because I had something none of those idiots had: research. I knew that Render would nothing eat more than a banana and a pretzel for lunch before heading for football field. There, he sits and smokes with the juggalos, a few punks and Kaylee.
The kids that Kaylee, Trauma and Render stomped out were against the juggalos as well as the goths and punks. It gained the trio many juggalo alliances and Kaylee and Trauma juggalo boyfriends. Those alliances morphed into friendships as the relationships did. All the juggalos fiercely protected their own, affording me a small spike surrounded window. Render sat outside for about ten minutes before anyone else got there. That gave me exactly five minutes to beat his ass and fifteen minutes until Rage, the juggalo leader, figured out who did it. If I prolonged for two seconds too long, it would surely mean my death.
“Are you on shrooms or some shit, Josh? Hello?!” Pansy must’ve been talking this whole time. Oh well, she was getting ready to leave now.
“Um, yeah, whatever.” I didn’t need to pretend to care with Pans, and she didn’t have to pretend to be dumb with me thus the basis of our friendship.
“Josh Matthews, I’m serious. You’ve not eaten in days. What the fuck are you on? Drugs or otherwise?” Pansy looked all levels of frustrated. She knew me best and if she was worried, maybe I was being a little too severe about this. No, I could not let her distract me. I had to answer shortly but completely.
All that came out, though, was, “Less fleshy parts, you know. He likes to bruise bone. It makes him all sadistic and happy. He’s a real sadist, Render is. Not like those emo kids.” I knew I was talking crazy, but I didn’t care. Render was standing to leave.
Pansy put a soft hand on my arm, “All goths are, Joshy.”
I just wanted to scream at her that I wasn’t a child; however contradictory the action might’ve been. I hated that tone she took with me. It didn’t matter though. He was leaving for the football field.
“Shove it, Pansy.” I announced before abruptly leaving. I needed to concentrate.
Render, as always, took the closest exit to the front of the cafeteria. He continued down the hallway taking a left, then a right to cut through the boys’ locker room. I recited his actions a second before he did them from about three yards behind him. Skimming his hand along the lockers, he did something different though. Render pulled out a note as he passed the sixth row of lockers, and slipped a note into locker 607. As badly as I craved to see it, my window was closing. Render exited the door to the tunnel that led to the field. The dim hallway made Render unnaturally pale skin glow against his crimson button-down and black miniskirt. His spike-heeled steps resounding through the tunnel while the swagger they caused made his tiny skirt flip up with every step. Each footfall awarded a higher glimpse of shapely hairless thighs that begged to be bitten and licked as a prelude to other tantalizing treats that the scrap of fabric hid. I couldn’t stop my mind from imagining scraping my nails along those firm thighs and soothing each red line with my tongue. I had stopped without noticing and was biting my lip to keep in the excited growl that threatened to reveal me. I waited for Render to step out of the tunnel.
The door slammed shut leaving me half-hard and very frustrated. I took deep breath. “Just do this,” I encouraged myself. “Just kick his ass and get him out of your system. You’ll stop thinking of him. Everything will be fine. You don’t even like men. He’s just so much like a woman.” When I finally convinced myself, I jogged for the tunnel door. I had about four minutes now to execute.
I had a clear view of Render as I stepped from the tunnel door. He was leaned against a twisted old tree. I walked slowly towards the bleachers, but something stopped me. It couldn’t have been the way his gray and black blew softly away from his face. I would’ve have never noticed the sexy way that one eye stayed covered. The thought of kissing his long never would have never bothered. Above all, the realization that Render looked like a dark, perfect nymph would’ve done nothing to me. I knew that my moment was right then. I even saw myself running up to Render and smashing his face, but I didn’t move. I took another breath about to step when a hand clapped down on my shoulder.
I jumped about four inches in the air as a voice invaded my space, “There a problem, Matthews?” Rage’s voice was right in my ear spreading his warm breath along the shell.
“Uh…I…no, no problem.” I ground my teeth, clenched my eyes closed and thought of anything but the strong hand on my shoulder. I was getting hard again. Rage frightened everyone, but the more frightened of him you were, the more likely that you’d forfeit your mother to have sex with him. At least that was true for him. He gripped my shoulder harder, and I know an excited whimper escaped because he let out a laugh. The laugh came from a successful predator, and I knew I was easy prey.
Rage’s pierced tongue skimmed my ear. My eyes flew open to find none other than Render standing directly in front of me. He smiled softly as I received a hot whisper even closer to my ear, “So, are you lost, Matthews?” I nearly chewed a hole in my lip. I knew my bulge was obvious in my semi-tight jeans so I did the only plausible thing. I ran. I tore out of there as fast as I could, and didn’t stop running until I was in the lost hallway bathroom stall with my pants down.
I slammed my forehead on the wall and had my hand down my pants immediately. I probably created it, but I thought I saw a look of hunger on Render’s face and the sound of it in Rage’s voice. I tightened my grip on my already leaking cock and stroked slowly. I imagined Rage’s stern voice forcing me to obey. Render using my mouth to get his pleasure. In my mind, Render led me around the school by a leash wearing nothing but tiny leather shorts. And I came at thought of Render and Rage taking turns using my body. I slumped on the toilet ready to cry when I heard the bathroom door fly open.
*~*~*~*~*
Questions, comments, suggestions, review.
behindthelights
KIDDING. The title is an AFI song from the "Art of Drowning" album, but the rest is mine. wanna play? just ask.
Tis my first smutty attempt so do tell me how I've faired. reviews make me dance. flames make me laugh. do please partake in either. enjoy!
*~*~*~*~*
CH 1 : To Failure
Joshua
I glared at cafeteria door thinking of his lanky, awkward frame, his messy gray and black hair, and his ugly dirty green eyes. Render Koln looked like a girl—a slutty gothic girl. He always wore these miniskirts that barely concealed his gender and heels so high that hookers feared for him. He pranced, literally pranced, through the hallways with his best friend. He was disgusting. To see him bouncing around in those skirts showing everyone the black sexy…uh no! No! I glared harder.
The thought of punching him in the ribs was terribly satisfying—much more satisfying then thoughts of Render’s…stop it! I imagined the sounds of his bones crunching, of his bloodcurdling screams begging me to stop his pain. It all made my heart race, but I waited. He would enter the cafeteria any second now, then it’d be over just as quickly. I would just follow him, punch, kick, run. Simple.
He came strolling in alone, which was odd. Usually, he had one of the punk girls on his arm, but he was dressed up today. Good. Render’s black miniskirt fell loosely, skimming the creamy tops of his long legs.
“Josh!” Pansy shouted in my ear, saving me from my own horrid mind in a saintly fashion. “Will you please stop drooling all over that weird goth kid?” Well, maybe not a saint, more of a bitchy cheerleader who was not supposed to like a weirder emo or be sitting with one of the tech theater kids.
“Render,” I grumbled not really listening.
“Wait! What?” Pansy flipped her wavy blonde hair and stared at me with pale green eyes hardened from years of pretending to be someone else. Pansy could’ve and should’ve been one of the punks, but her sister was head cheerleader. You know, family lines and such bullshit.
“His name is Render Koln,” I told her without realizing how soft my voice sounded. “And I am going to kick the shit out of him today.” I continued harshly praying that Pansy’s punk side wasn’t there today.
Shaking her head before fishing for her cigarettes, Pansy just laughed, “Replace kick with the word you really want.” As she found her pack, she looked to me mouthing F-U-C-K. “Besides, you remember what happened to the last two guys who tried,” she continued calculatingly before plastering on a fake smile as a few jocks passed.
About a year ago, two football freshmen decided that they would make a reputation for themselves. How do you ask? The meathead pair concluded beating up the cross-dressing, gothic junior was the best option.
They should’ve learned from their classmate who had tried for Kaylee and Trauma, a Lolita goth and a punk who were Render’s two best friends. Said classmate ended that first quarter with two black eyes, a broken nose, a cracked cheekbone and several affected ribs.
However, the jock couple did not learn. They readily ignored that obvious warning and approached Render one day before school in the courtyard. Neither made it to classes for the next week, and Render left with nothing but a bit of blood on his purple stilettos. As for the couple, let’s put it simply. Render fucked both their days up.
It was almost tradition since eighth grade that a new kid would try for Render and receive the worst beating of his life in return. It didn’t matter though because I had something none of those idiots had: research. I knew that Render would nothing eat more than a banana and a pretzel for lunch before heading for football field. There, he sits and smokes with the juggalos, a few punks and Kaylee.
The kids that Kaylee, Trauma and Render stomped out were against the juggalos as well as the goths and punks. It gained the trio many juggalo alliances and Kaylee and Trauma juggalo boyfriends. Those alliances morphed into friendships as the relationships did. All the juggalos fiercely protected their own, affording me a small spike surrounded window. Render sat outside for about ten minutes before anyone else got there. That gave me exactly five minutes to beat his ass and fifteen minutes until Rage, the juggalo leader, figured out who did it. If I prolonged for two seconds too long, it would surely mean my death.
“Are you on shrooms or some shit, Josh? Hello?!” Pansy must’ve been talking this whole time. Oh well, she was getting ready to leave now.
“Um, yeah, whatever.” I didn’t need to pretend to care with Pans, and she didn’t have to pretend to be dumb with me thus the basis of our friendship.
“Josh Matthews, I’m serious. You’ve not eaten in days. What the fuck are you on? Drugs or otherwise?” Pansy looked all levels of frustrated. She knew me best and if she was worried, maybe I was being a little too severe about this. No, I could not let her distract me. I had to answer shortly but completely.
All that came out, though, was, “Less fleshy parts, you know. He likes to bruise bone. It makes him all sadistic and happy. He’s a real sadist, Render is. Not like those emo kids.” I knew I was talking crazy, but I didn’t care. Render was standing to leave.
Pansy put a soft hand on my arm, “All goths are, Joshy.”
I just wanted to scream at her that I wasn’t a child; however contradictory the action might’ve been. I hated that tone she took with me. It didn’t matter though. He was leaving for the football field.
“Shove it, Pansy.” I announced before abruptly leaving. I needed to concentrate.
Render, as always, took the closest exit to the front of the cafeteria. He continued down the hallway taking a left, then a right to cut through the boys’ locker room. I recited his actions a second before he did them from about three yards behind him. Skimming his hand along the lockers, he did something different though. Render pulled out a note as he passed the sixth row of lockers, and slipped a note into locker 607. As badly as I craved to see it, my window was closing. Render exited the door to the tunnel that led to the field. The dim hallway made Render unnaturally pale skin glow against his crimson button-down and black miniskirt. His spike-heeled steps resounding through the tunnel while the swagger they caused made his tiny skirt flip up with every step. Each footfall awarded a higher glimpse of shapely hairless thighs that begged to be bitten and licked as a prelude to other tantalizing treats that the scrap of fabric hid. I couldn’t stop my mind from imagining scraping my nails along those firm thighs and soothing each red line with my tongue. I had stopped without noticing and was biting my lip to keep in the excited growl that threatened to reveal me. I waited for Render to step out of the tunnel.
The door slammed shut leaving me half-hard and very frustrated. I took deep breath. “Just do this,” I encouraged myself. “Just kick his ass and get him out of your system. You’ll stop thinking of him. Everything will be fine. You don’t even like men. He’s just so much like a woman.” When I finally convinced myself, I jogged for the tunnel door. I had about four minutes now to execute.
I had a clear view of Render as I stepped from the tunnel door. He was leaned against a twisted old tree. I walked slowly towards the bleachers, but something stopped me. It couldn’t have been the way his gray and black blew softly away from his face. I would’ve have never noticed the sexy way that one eye stayed covered. The thought of kissing his long never would have never bothered. Above all, the realization that Render looked like a dark, perfect nymph would’ve done nothing to me. I knew that my moment was right then. I even saw myself running up to Render and smashing his face, but I didn’t move. I took another breath about to step when a hand clapped down on my shoulder.
I jumped about four inches in the air as a voice invaded my space, “There a problem, Matthews?” Rage’s voice was right in my ear spreading his warm breath along the shell.
“Uh…I…no, no problem.” I ground my teeth, clenched my eyes closed and thought of anything but the strong hand on my shoulder. I was getting hard again. Rage frightened everyone, but the more frightened of him you were, the more likely that you’d forfeit your mother to have sex with him. At least that was true for him. He gripped my shoulder harder, and I know an excited whimper escaped because he let out a laugh. The laugh came from a successful predator, and I knew I was easy prey.
Rage’s pierced tongue skimmed my ear. My eyes flew open to find none other than Render standing directly in front of me. He smiled softly as I received a hot whisper even closer to my ear, “So, are you lost, Matthews?” I nearly chewed a hole in my lip. I knew my bulge was obvious in my semi-tight jeans so I did the only plausible thing. I ran. I tore out of there as fast as I could, and didn’t stop running until I was in the lost hallway bathroom stall with my pants down.
I slammed my forehead on the wall and had my hand down my pants immediately. I probably created it, but I thought I saw a look of hunger on Render’s face and the sound of it in Rage’s voice. I tightened my grip on my already leaking cock and stroked slowly. I imagined Rage’s stern voice forcing me to obey. Render using my mouth to get his pleasure. In my mind, Render led me around the school by a leash wearing nothing but tiny leather shorts. And I came at thought of Render and Rage taking turns using my body. I slumped on the toilet ready to cry when I heard the bathroom door fly open.
*~*~*~*~*
Questions, comments, suggestions, review.
behindthelights