(no subject)
Title: Defiance
Author: _rehabreject_
Pairing: Mike/Tré
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: It's fan fiction, which means it's not true and this never happened.
Notes: It stormed. I wrote. A (slightly odd) ficlet emerged. That's about it really xD
The room is dark, but not empty; it is full of sounds, movements, desperate and hungry touches lingering on burning skin. The rain outside is the loudest noise, heavy droplets of water falling on the window with eager taps; but every now and then it’s drowned out by the quiet gasps and moans, grunts falling through the air from the two men on the bed and bleeding loudly into their ears.
Touch me, oh, God, need to taste you, need to feel you, need to…
Lightening flashes outside the window, illuminating the trickling drops of rain on the glass and showing flashes of movement: clutching hands, sliding limbs, faces twisting into masks of pure ecstasy, overwhelming pleasure shooting through the room. Two pairs of blue eyes bore into each other, needing and heavy with lust, shining in the lasting glow of the deadly white-hot electricity outside.
So hot, you’re so hot, look at me, don’t look away…
A clap of thunder follows and it drowns out the wet slap of skin hitting skin, groans melting away under the volume of the weather’s protests; the two men don’t care about that. They aren’t interested in anything other than each other, their mounting pleasure building up and threatening to boil over in defiance to the world.
You’re mine, you’re all mine here with me, this will never end…
The intensity of the storm increases, the lightening splitting through the air closer and closer to them, the thunder louder and more violent than ever before. The intensity increases and so does the ferocity of the taller man’s thrusts, his strong arms clutching harshly at the other’s hips as he pounds into him, grunting and panting with the effort of his movements. Sweat drops from his lean frame and onto the pale, burning skin of the other.
So close, so close, please, so close, just a little more…
The storm is not just closer to them; it’s attacks are more frequent, the flashes of lightening like strobe lighting filmed and played back in slow motion to the accompanying music of crashes and bangs, an angry musician and a lethargic show man combined to create a formidable power that should never be reasoned with, that should never be fought against.
Harder, faster, let me make you bleed, I know you love it, you love it…
The last clap of thunder is right over them, shaking the very foundations of the house, of the room; so forceful a car alarm goes off in the distance. The sound of chaos echoes all around them and even the thunder can’t drown them out as they cry out in triumphs loud and clear through the air. Then the thunder is stopped, the lightening leaving to illuminate more, different sights and scenes of beauty, and only the rain remains as they share their one and only lazy, slow kiss.
So good, so hot…
The taller man slides out slowly, body shaking with the power of his climax; he’s almost ready to face the calm after his very own storm. The weather outside has cleared the air, calming it and soothing it and making it all fine; this won’t do the same for them, though. It never does, not for long. The taller man collapses onto his bed and the other slides away, pulling on his abandoned clothes as rapidly as the rain fades away to distant times and places, lingering with the promise of tomorrow.
He leaves, and all is silent, even the weather outside; and the Mike just smiles to himself as he settles back into his empty bed.
You’ll be back, you always are…
He’s right, because Tré is just like these summer storms: always coming back to clear their tension when it’s needed, a frequent and beautiful treat.
Author: _rehabreject_
Pairing: Mike/Tré
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: It's fan fiction, which means it's not true and this never happened.
Notes: It stormed. I wrote. A (slightly odd) ficlet emerged. That's about it really xD
The room is dark, but not empty; it is full of sounds, movements, desperate and hungry touches lingering on burning skin. The rain outside is the loudest noise, heavy droplets of water falling on the window with eager taps; but every now and then it’s drowned out by the quiet gasps and moans, grunts falling through the air from the two men on the bed and bleeding loudly into their ears.
Touch me, oh, God, need to taste you, need to feel you, need to…
Lightening flashes outside the window, illuminating the trickling drops of rain on the glass and showing flashes of movement: clutching hands, sliding limbs, faces twisting into masks of pure ecstasy, overwhelming pleasure shooting through the room. Two pairs of blue eyes bore into each other, needing and heavy with lust, shining in the lasting glow of the deadly white-hot electricity outside.
So hot, you’re so hot, look at me, don’t look away…
A clap of thunder follows and it drowns out the wet slap of skin hitting skin, groans melting away under the volume of the weather’s protests; the two men don’t care about that. They aren’t interested in anything other than each other, their mounting pleasure building up and threatening to boil over in defiance to the world.
You’re mine, you’re all mine here with me, this will never end…
The intensity of the storm increases, the lightening splitting through the air closer and closer to them, the thunder louder and more violent than ever before. The intensity increases and so does the ferocity of the taller man’s thrusts, his strong arms clutching harshly at the other’s hips as he pounds into him, grunting and panting with the effort of his movements. Sweat drops from his lean frame and onto the pale, burning skin of the other.
So close, so close, please, so close, just a little more…
The storm is not just closer to them; it’s attacks are more frequent, the flashes of lightening like strobe lighting filmed and played back in slow motion to the accompanying music of crashes and bangs, an angry musician and a lethargic show man combined to create a formidable power that should never be reasoned with, that should never be fought against.
Harder, faster, let me make you bleed, I know you love it, you love it…
The last clap of thunder is right over them, shaking the very foundations of the house, of the room; so forceful a car alarm goes off in the distance. The sound of chaos echoes all around them and even the thunder can’t drown them out as they cry out in triumphs loud and clear through the air. Then the thunder is stopped, the lightening leaving to illuminate more, different sights and scenes of beauty, and only the rain remains as they share their one and only lazy, slow kiss.
So good, so hot…
The taller man slides out slowly, body shaking with the power of his climax; he’s almost ready to face the calm after his very own storm. The weather outside has cleared the air, calming it and soothing it and making it all fine; this won’t do the same for them, though. It never does, not for long. The taller man collapses onto his bed and the other slides away, pulling on his abandoned clothes as rapidly as the rain fades away to distant times and places, lingering with the promise of tomorrow.
He leaves, and all is silent, even the weather outside; and the Mike just smiles to himself as he settles back into his empty bed.
You’ll be back, you always are…
He’s right, because Tré is just like these summer storms: always coming back to clear their tension when it’s needed, a frequent and beautiful treat.