(no subject)
Title: Thanks, I Needed That.
Genre: Pr0n, Angst
Pairing/Characters: Asch and Guy, although calling it AschxGuy would be ridiculous.
Rating: Without a doubt, a very angry NC-17.
Summary: You don't have to like him to like what he does.
He knew that long ago, in a manor seven years from here, he had been a brat and as arrogant as a ten-year-old could manage, but still, he had been somewhat...kind. He had enough confidence in himself to admit that.
Something had taken that kindness away. Perhaps it was that bitterness festering inside of him, the same anger that wasn't directed entirely at his replica, persay, but most certainly at the situation he was involved in. That was his home; his mother, his father, and his fiancee the stupid brat claimed was his! Perhaps that wasn't the worst of it; what seemed to be the worst of it was that everything Asch missed and ached for, the little snot took for granted. Natalia obviously meant nothing to him, and more than likely he found his -Asch's! Not that replica's- parents to be annoying rather than loving and caring.
It was so infuriating he was almost seeing red just thinking about it.
But beyond all that, maybe even the greatest injustice wasn't rooted in what that dreck's birth had stolen from him. It was what he'd escaped, what he didn't have that upset Asch the most.
Guy's hatred.
He'd never known; in all the time he'd spent with Guy, he hadn't even gotten a clue, not once. He never knew that maybe every time he ran ahead of Guy, the blonde would be staring at his back, waiting to stick a knife in it. He didn't know that all those times Guy tucked him in, when he was eight and Guy was twelve, that Guy was thinking about lifting that pillow and covering his face with it, and holding it down until he stilled.
What had he done to deserve such animosity? It was his father's fault, yes, but what had Asch done to have someone he thought to be his best friend hate him? He'd honestly thought that Guy liked him back, that Guy considered him his best friend, but all this time, he'd wanted to kill him?
How...unnerving. And now, with that dreck back in Yulia City, ignoring him and undoubtedly regretting his own pointless existance, his head was empty enough for him to ask himself, 'why, why, why?!' over and over again, so many times that it was maddening.
Not to mention that Guy was actually in love with the replica. When Asch figured it out -who wouldn't- he'd nearly laughed aloud. In love with the replica of the person you hated the most in the world. How delightfully twisted.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Asch paused in folding his tabbard. It could be one of two people; Jade, to bother him yet again, or Natalia, to reminisce about something that would leave him with a cloud of depression and a foul taste in his mouth when she left. "Come in," he sighed finally, deciding to get this over with, and unbuckled his sword belt.
The door opened to reveal the last person in Auldrant that Asch would ever consider voluntarily coming to see him. That person stood, one hand on the doorknob, glaring at him but not moving.
"...did you just come in here to glare at me, Guy?" Asch snapped, and rested his sword against his nightstand after removing the belt.
"I don't trust you."
"Oh really." Asch rolled his eyes and sat on the edge of the bed, struggling out of one thigh-high boot before moving onto the next. He realized that his sarcasm might lose some of its effect with him laying on his back and yanking off his shoes like a child, but didn't care. It was a humid day in Port Belkend, and he'd be damned if he slept in anything tonight.
"I know it's not your fault, but...I can't help it." Guy seemed extremely reluctant to be saying any of this, and Asch saw fit to point this out.
"Don't strain yourself sounding too remorseful." Why did he always say the meanest things to people on the brink of a confrontation? It was his nature, he supposed; at least, now it was. He couldn't remember if it was before or not.
"Is it in your nature to be as difficult as possible?" Guy's voice was acidic, and Asch strained to recall if he'd ever sounded like that around the replica. It didn't take long to conclude that no, he'd never spoken to the replica that way. Of course, that revelation only served to anger Asch even more.
"Would it be easier to talk to me if I were a worthless dreck?" Asch snarled, and finally succeeded in removing his footwear. One of the wounds he would undoubtedly be inflicting on Van in the future would be for incorporating those damned thigh-high boots into his uniform. He wasn't a girl, damn it.
"Don't talk about Luke that way!" Guy stepped into the room, shutting the door behind himself and taking two quick steps towards Asch.
"He's my replica, I'll talk about him however I want." Asch stood, pulling his tunic from over his head and tossing it into the corner, far too irritated to care about neatness any longer. "If you don't mind, I'd like you to get out now. I'm tired."
"First take back what you said about Luke," Guy ground out through gritted teeth, hands clenched into shaking fists.
"Why don't you make me?" Before the words had even finished coming out of his mouth, he was slammed against the wall and pinned by two hands on either side of his head. Without batting an eyelash, Asch stared Guy right in the face. "Well? Are you going to make me?" Guy was so close, his body heat warmed Asch's bare chest.
"If I hit you, it'd just make everyone mad," Guy muttered, more to himself than Asch. He pushed off of the wall, stalking towards the door.
For some reason, Asch found this insulting and he cleared his throat slightly, making his voice a bit higher and smoother to be identical to his replica's. "Would you stay if I asked you like this?"
The next thing he knew, his cheek was throbbing and he was on the floor, back against the wall, Guy standing over him and trembling with rage. "Don't you ever-! If you ever do that again, I'll-"
"You can pretend it's him, if you want," Asch smirked up at Guy, rubbing the blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb and licking it. Guy looked as if he'd strike him again, but instead descended upon Asch and tangled a hand in his hair, crashing his lips against the ex-God general's and lowering his weight atop him.
Asch considered shoving Guy away, but the fire just below his stomach told him that right now he just needed something meaningless and quick, and his frustrations -or, at least enough of them- would melt away long enough for him to get a good night's rest.
So he kissed him back. And he grabbed Guy's vest, yanking it open and popping probably at least a couple of the buttons off, growling when it took too long for Guy to lift his arms and help. The vest was tossed aside, soon followed by the shirt and Guy's mouth was down his neck and kissing/biting down his chest before he knew it. Asch vaguely noted that his gloves were still on as he wrapped his fingers around the straw-colored tufts of Guy's hair, but now was not the time for silly distractions like that, not when Guy was impatiently yanking down his pants while kicking off his own.
"Wh-what, no foreplay?" he panted, grinning at the ceiling.
"Shut up," Guy muttered against his stomach, grazing Asch's skin with his teeth and making his muscles quiver as he fought with his ridiculously tight, form-fitting pants. He cursed.
"Don't wear such flamboyant clothes, then," Asch chided condescendingly.
"Think about what we're doing before you call me that," Guy pointed out, but sat up abruptly, kneeling between Asch's legs, and glanced around.
Asch raised himself up on his elbows and glared. "So help me, Guy, if you even mention 'second thoughts' you are a dead man."
"I'm thinking about you, you bastard. Do you have anything?"
It took a moment before Asch made the connection, and then he nodded. "Ointment, in my bag. For injuries." He watched Guy reach over, snatch the bag from the floor, rummage inside of it before removing a tub of the aforementioned gel and screw it open.
"You're being awfully cooperative," Guy noted suspiciously, coating three fingers before inserting them into Asch without so much as a warning.
Asch jerked at the cold and hissed at the intrusion. "Thanks for working your way up, you jackass," he bit out, narrowing his eyes. "And I'm only allowing you to top because if I didn't, you'd have left."
"Frustrated, much?" Guy laughed, although he was not smiling. He removed his fingers and ran a hand rather gently along Asch's thigh to lift it.
"You have no idea," Asch murmured before twitching with a gasp as Guy thrust rather roughly into him. He locked his jaw against a whimper -there was no way he'd do that in front of Guy- but clutched rather tightly at Guy's forearms, which were being used to prop the blonde up as he thrust into him again. Why were his gloves on again? They were slipping on Guy's sweat and making it hard to hold on.
Guy's rather energetic activities brushed up against something inside of Asch that made him moan and see stars, and he babbling something that might have resembled, "Guy, I hate you I hate you," but at that moment Guy hit that spot again and Asch stopped caring about what he said. His hand drifted downward against his will, but before he could even consider it, another hand was wrapped around his erection and jerking up and down -erratically; Asch noted somewhere in the back of his mind that Guy obviously hadn't done this before- and Asch hooked a leg around the small of Guy's back.
This was fucking amazing, no pun intended.
"Y-you can say his name if you want," Asch stammered out, something creeping up his body, tying his intestines into knots and grabbing his heart to stop it from beating but it just pounded harder anyways, just like Guy. He never knew if Guy answered or not, because there was a flash of blonde hair in front of his face and something sharp bit into the flesh between his neck and shoulder and Guy was shuddering atop him and suddenly Asch was shaking too as euphoria raged over him.
There was a moment of relaxed, hazy descent and Asch registered that his neck was bleeding and that Guy was breathing heavily, pressed atop him, his weight somewhat suffocating but still...
...comforting.
After just a moment, the weight was gone and Guy was out of him and collecting his clothes. Without a word, Guy stood, got dressed and, not even looking back, walked right out of Asch's room, closing the door quietly behind himself.
Asch lay on the floor, unwilling to get up. He supposed that had it been anyone else, he would be furious and feeling rather abandoned.
How strange that, just because it was Guy, he felt grateful.
Genre: Pr0n, Angst
Pairing/Characters: Asch and Guy, although calling it AschxGuy would be ridiculous.
Rating: Without a doubt, a very angry NC-17.
Summary: You don't have to like him to like what he does.
He knew that long ago, in a manor seven years from here, he had been a brat and as arrogant as a ten-year-old could manage, but still, he had been somewhat...kind. He had enough confidence in himself to admit that.
Something had taken that kindness away. Perhaps it was that bitterness festering inside of him, the same anger that wasn't directed entirely at his replica, persay, but most certainly at the situation he was involved in. That was his home; his mother, his father, and his fiancee the stupid brat claimed was his! Perhaps that wasn't the worst of it; what seemed to be the worst of it was that everything Asch missed and ached for, the little snot took for granted. Natalia obviously meant nothing to him, and more than likely he found his -Asch's! Not that replica's- parents to be annoying rather than loving and caring.
It was so infuriating he was almost seeing red just thinking about it.
But beyond all that, maybe even the greatest injustice wasn't rooted in what that dreck's birth had stolen from him. It was what he'd escaped, what he didn't have that upset Asch the most.
Guy's hatred.
He'd never known; in all the time he'd spent with Guy, he hadn't even gotten a clue, not once. He never knew that maybe every time he ran ahead of Guy, the blonde would be staring at his back, waiting to stick a knife in it. He didn't know that all those times Guy tucked him in, when he was eight and Guy was twelve, that Guy was thinking about lifting that pillow and covering his face with it, and holding it down until he stilled.
What had he done to deserve such animosity? It was his father's fault, yes, but what had Asch done to have someone he thought to be his best friend hate him? He'd honestly thought that Guy liked him back, that Guy considered him his best friend, but all this time, he'd wanted to kill him?
How...unnerving. And now, with that dreck back in Yulia City, ignoring him and undoubtedly regretting his own pointless existance, his head was empty enough for him to ask himself, 'why, why, why?!' over and over again, so many times that it was maddening.
Not to mention that Guy was actually in love with the replica. When Asch figured it out -who wouldn't- he'd nearly laughed aloud. In love with the replica of the person you hated the most in the world. How delightfully twisted.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Asch paused in folding his tabbard. It could be one of two people; Jade, to bother him yet again, or Natalia, to reminisce about something that would leave him with a cloud of depression and a foul taste in his mouth when she left. "Come in," he sighed finally, deciding to get this over with, and unbuckled his sword belt.
The door opened to reveal the last person in Auldrant that Asch would ever consider voluntarily coming to see him. That person stood, one hand on the doorknob, glaring at him but not moving.
"...did you just come in here to glare at me, Guy?" Asch snapped, and rested his sword against his nightstand after removing the belt.
"I don't trust you."
"Oh really." Asch rolled his eyes and sat on the edge of the bed, struggling out of one thigh-high boot before moving onto the next. He realized that his sarcasm might lose some of its effect with him laying on his back and yanking off his shoes like a child, but didn't care. It was a humid day in Port Belkend, and he'd be damned if he slept in anything tonight.
"I know it's not your fault, but...I can't help it." Guy seemed extremely reluctant to be saying any of this, and Asch saw fit to point this out.
"Don't strain yourself sounding too remorseful." Why did he always say the meanest things to people on the brink of a confrontation? It was his nature, he supposed; at least, now it was. He couldn't remember if it was before or not.
"Is it in your nature to be as difficult as possible?" Guy's voice was acidic, and Asch strained to recall if he'd ever sounded like that around the replica. It didn't take long to conclude that no, he'd never spoken to the replica that way. Of course, that revelation only served to anger Asch even more.
"Would it be easier to talk to me if I were a worthless dreck?" Asch snarled, and finally succeeded in removing his footwear. One of the wounds he would undoubtedly be inflicting on Van in the future would be for incorporating those damned thigh-high boots into his uniform. He wasn't a girl, damn it.
"Don't talk about Luke that way!" Guy stepped into the room, shutting the door behind himself and taking two quick steps towards Asch.
"He's my replica, I'll talk about him however I want." Asch stood, pulling his tunic from over his head and tossing it into the corner, far too irritated to care about neatness any longer. "If you don't mind, I'd like you to get out now. I'm tired."
"First take back what you said about Luke," Guy ground out through gritted teeth, hands clenched into shaking fists.
"Why don't you make me?" Before the words had even finished coming out of his mouth, he was slammed against the wall and pinned by two hands on either side of his head. Without batting an eyelash, Asch stared Guy right in the face. "Well? Are you going to make me?" Guy was so close, his body heat warmed Asch's bare chest.
"If I hit you, it'd just make everyone mad," Guy muttered, more to himself than Asch. He pushed off of the wall, stalking towards the door.
For some reason, Asch found this insulting and he cleared his throat slightly, making his voice a bit higher and smoother to be identical to his replica's. "Would you stay if I asked you like this?"
The next thing he knew, his cheek was throbbing and he was on the floor, back against the wall, Guy standing over him and trembling with rage. "Don't you ever-! If you ever do that again, I'll-"
"You can pretend it's him, if you want," Asch smirked up at Guy, rubbing the blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb and licking it. Guy looked as if he'd strike him again, but instead descended upon Asch and tangled a hand in his hair, crashing his lips against the ex-God general's and lowering his weight atop him.
Asch considered shoving Guy away, but the fire just below his stomach told him that right now he just needed something meaningless and quick, and his frustrations -or, at least enough of them- would melt away long enough for him to get a good night's rest.
So he kissed him back. And he grabbed Guy's vest, yanking it open and popping probably at least a couple of the buttons off, growling when it took too long for Guy to lift his arms and help. The vest was tossed aside, soon followed by the shirt and Guy's mouth was down his neck and kissing/biting down his chest before he knew it. Asch vaguely noted that his gloves were still on as he wrapped his fingers around the straw-colored tufts of Guy's hair, but now was not the time for silly distractions like that, not when Guy was impatiently yanking down his pants while kicking off his own.
"Wh-what, no foreplay?" he panted, grinning at the ceiling.
"Shut up," Guy muttered against his stomach, grazing Asch's skin with his teeth and making his muscles quiver as he fought with his ridiculously tight, form-fitting pants. He cursed.
"Don't wear such flamboyant clothes, then," Asch chided condescendingly.
"Think about what we're doing before you call me that," Guy pointed out, but sat up abruptly, kneeling between Asch's legs, and glanced around.
Asch raised himself up on his elbows and glared. "So help me, Guy, if you even mention 'second thoughts' you are a dead man."
"I'm thinking about you, you bastard. Do you have anything?"
It took a moment before Asch made the connection, and then he nodded. "Ointment, in my bag. For injuries." He watched Guy reach over, snatch the bag from the floor, rummage inside of it before removing a tub of the aforementioned gel and screw it open.
"You're being awfully cooperative," Guy noted suspiciously, coating three fingers before inserting them into Asch without so much as a warning.
Asch jerked at the cold and hissed at the intrusion. "Thanks for working your way up, you jackass," he bit out, narrowing his eyes. "And I'm only allowing you to top because if I didn't, you'd have left."
"Frustrated, much?" Guy laughed, although he was not smiling. He removed his fingers and ran a hand rather gently along Asch's thigh to lift it.
"You have no idea," Asch murmured before twitching with a gasp as Guy thrust rather roughly into him. He locked his jaw against a whimper -there was no way he'd do that in front of Guy- but clutched rather tightly at Guy's forearms, which were being used to prop the blonde up as he thrust into him again. Why were his gloves on again? They were slipping on Guy's sweat and making it hard to hold on.
Guy's rather energetic activities brushed up against something inside of Asch that made him moan and see stars, and he babbling something that might have resembled, "Guy, I hate you I hate you," but at that moment Guy hit that spot again and Asch stopped caring about what he said. His hand drifted downward against his will, but before he could even consider it, another hand was wrapped around his erection and jerking up and down -erratically; Asch noted somewhere in the back of his mind that Guy obviously hadn't done this before- and Asch hooked a leg around the small of Guy's back.
This was fucking amazing, no pun intended.
"Y-you can say his name if you want," Asch stammered out, something creeping up his body, tying his intestines into knots and grabbing his heart to stop it from beating but it just pounded harder anyways, just like Guy. He never knew if Guy answered or not, because there was a flash of blonde hair in front of his face and something sharp bit into the flesh between his neck and shoulder and Guy was shuddering atop him and suddenly Asch was shaking too as euphoria raged over him.
There was a moment of relaxed, hazy descent and Asch registered that his neck was bleeding and that Guy was breathing heavily, pressed atop him, his weight somewhat suffocating but still...
...comforting.
After just a moment, the weight was gone and Guy was out of him and collecting his clothes. Without a word, Guy stood, got dressed and, not even looking back, walked right out of Asch's room, closing the door quietly behind himself.
Asch lay on the floor, unwilling to get up. He supposed that had it been anyone else, he would be furious and feeling rather abandoned.
How strange that, just because it was Guy, he felt grateful.