[FIC] KotetsuBarnaby: Worlds Apart
Worlds Apart
Pairings: Kotetsu T. Kaburagi/Barnaby Brooks Jr.
Rating: Rated M
Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama
"Love never dies a natural death.
It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source.
It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals.
It dies of illness and wounds;
It dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing."
- Anais Nin -
Kotetsu stared out of the glass wall that encased the nightscape of Sternbild with his hand stuffed in his pockets. They were very well empty apart from him, but they were heavy, running down along with gravity. The weight pulled down, making little folds in his well-ironed slacks, and gave much stress to the leather belt that hugged his hips. While hidden, his hands turned into solid fists, trembling, weighing, and hurting; his shortly cut nails marking little crescents against his skin. His heart felt heavy, even heavier than his fists, and it ached. It ached horribly that even alcohol had failed to make it numb.
No, no. Maybe he only needed more, so he scooped up one fresh bottle of wine from the low rack near his feet and pulled the cork open with bare teeth. The opener? Well, it’s was there somewhere. Maybe. It doesn’t really matter now. Yes, yes. Yes, it doesn’t and he ignores the twinge in his darkened gums. The bottle’s butt flies up and in seconds, it had less than half of its drink.
So, is it working?
Nope. Just wait though.
No more. Nothing. Not a drop was left. Even when Kotetsu lifted it over his darted out tongue, nothing came out, so he threw it back and reached down for another bottle, repeating the process for the fourth time through the night. Because it helped, he thought. Drinking always helped. It made him feel better. Not forever, but at the moment at least and that was something big. A moment’s relief was golden treasure to him.
His consciousness began to titter at the edge, and maybe he did literally too by the small steps in Barnaby’s apartment. Or not. No. Yes? He didn’t fall, but he did meet the end of something-his decision, the choice among the options. The words reverberated in his head like the violent pattering of the rain against the city, and each of it gave his heart a pinch and his brain maybe another pint of beer. He remembered it clearly though, even the voice of the woman who said it and the way she spoke it. They were kindly, but they were very well aimed shots to his heart. She may have had been as well as a sniper, only of words that hurt like real, open wounds... and bullshit. No more. No more of this.
The thoughts were plaguing, eating up from the inside like some freaky microbes, but more than that, it stilled as a knife stabbed on his back and then forgotten. Every time he breathed, it pierced and it hurt because he still lived, digging deeper and deeper with every muscle that constricts. It was a burden of a life time.
Smile though.
“Kotetsu? Kotetsu, I told you to go straight to bed.”
Turn. Yes, just like that. Smile. Smile for the knife living on your back, sucking out every drop of your soul but keeping every bit of your happiness bottled safe and tight. Kotetsu suddenly felt the ache and almost fell over the man with the golden mane, but he caught himself before it happened. He stood unsteadily on his own, but his face had fallen forward unto Barnaby’s shoulder. He breathed in and had a smell of the sea-scent cologne. It drowned him almost instantly and he latched at the beautiful neck presented to him like a gift, biting and sucking.
“K-Kotetsu,” he gasped, then gritted his teeth in a stubborn struggle. “I can’t... I-”
He slid his hands down to the back, feeling for the perfectly sculpted curves, and only stopped to pull at the article of clothing keeping him from having it skin-to-skin. Kotetsu licked up the flawless neck to the ear and had his tongue dance sweetly in its depths, earning a breaking moan from the other. Words were being sputtered afterwards, but not a word registered in his head as something familiar, so he continued and traveled down further the body until he had his lover’s firm ass in his grasp.
Another gasp-another plea thrown out the window as nothing more than a senseless squabble and Kotetsu ventured further, grinding his hips against the lump that was slowly growing. While Barnaby continued to squirm, to fight, although already flushed red and aroused, he ripped the tailor suit off the chiseled body and returned to it with another harsh bite. He heard a hiss and a curse hidden there somewhere, then he sucked and licked at the spot, but bit on the body again once he was done with one. Shaped nails raked over his back, deep and stinging like cat claws, and maybe his green shirt even tore from it, but that was alright, because there was such a sweet gratification of getting a six foot flat of a man bent in half on the floor and fucking his intellectual brains out, stripped of any logical ability such as to speak with any sort of sense.
“Too-too much!” Barnaby cried, throwing his head back at the intense jab to his prostate. Something was off, that much he could tell, but he was being torn apart much too quickly and his pieces were being thrown farther and farther away with every thrust into his body that he couldn’t figure out much more than that. Even for a drunken Kotetsu, this treatment was too much-an unbalanced mix of pain and pleasure, slanting mostly towards suffering.
“Hurts! K-k-kotetsu!”
“Bunny...” he breathed, planting open-mouthed kisses all over the bare, sweat-drenched chest, and angled the force even better, pulling a ragged scream from a throat that had long gone dry and tired. From giving support, Kotetsu moved one hand from the ground to the pulsing, flushed column of flesh slapping against the naked body underneath him, and began to jerk and stroke and pull.
“Bunny, listen,”
“-d-down! Slow...ly-iih!” the King of Heroes sobbed, crying tears so big it shamed his angelic face. He pushed against the body that towered above him, finally having enough of the pain, and began to fight and scream with all what could have been anger, but none ever came out the way Barnaby intended them to come. None of the few words that ever made out his throat whole were enough to break through Kotetsu’s drunken stupor and make him stop.
The pain was almost like rape.
“Bunny,” Kotetsu jerked his hips more frantically, feeling heaven come closer with every muscle that tensed, and Barnaby’s hoarse breathing helped, brushing his weak spot near the neck when the man clutched at him as if holding for his dear life. “Are you close?”
“Just-just finish! Please!” he gasped and then bit on the brown, sweaty skin near his mouth. The pain was overwhelming that the relief of just having everything done and over with was more important than finding his own release in this messed up action of loving. His limbs had gone numb and the most part of his brain had shut down, his strength broken and his eyes swollen from the force of his tears... but it just kept on going and going and going that it seemed so much as a punishment at the moment.
Had he done something wrong?
He... he couldn’t recall. Too much pain. Too much... Make it stop. Somebody, please!
“Bunny, listen...”
Something coiled painfully in Kotetsu’s groin and he began thrusting even harder; consequently, Barnaby cried harder and yelled louder, and hated it more and more and more until something ticked and exploded inside him, but the rush of blood and the pounding in his ears didn’t cease. The thrusting continued past Kotetsu’s release and the pain grew worse as the end to this torture seemed farther than the Moon to Earth. Kotetsu moved his mouth close to Barnaby’s reddened ears, licking and tugging and blowing warm breath to the cold skin, and he shuddered, feeling the pinpricks of tickle despite the overwhelming pain.
Kotetsu whispered, almost inaudible, but Barnaby was somewhat sure that he heard it and he had heard it right. Although, he hoped he really didn’t. He hoped it was something else that just sounds so terribly alike, or maybe he was just drowned in euphoria or in too much pain. Maybe his brain just wasn’t acting right from the shortage of breath, or maybe this was all part of this sickening sex, but Kotetsu repeated it again and again and again that it became so painfully clear.
“Barnaby...”
It became so painfully real.
“I’m breaking up with you.”
Pairings: Kotetsu T. Kaburagi/Barnaby Brooks Jr.
Rating: Rated M
Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama
"Love never dies a natural death.
It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source.
It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals.
It dies of illness and wounds;
It dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing."
- Anais Nin -
Kotetsu stared out of the glass wall that encased the nightscape of Sternbild with his hand stuffed in his pockets. They were very well empty apart from him, but they were heavy, running down along with gravity. The weight pulled down, making little folds in his well-ironed slacks, and gave much stress to the leather belt that hugged his hips. While hidden, his hands turned into solid fists, trembling, weighing, and hurting; his shortly cut nails marking little crescents against his skin. His heart felt heavy, even heavier than his fists, and it ached. It ached horribly that even alcohol had failed to make it numb.
No, no. Maybe he only needed more, so he scooped up one fresh bottle of wine from the low rack near his feet and pulled the cork open with bare teeth. The opener? Well, it’s was there somewhere. Maybe. It doesn’t really matter now. Yes, yes. Yes, it doesn’t and he ignores the twinge in his darkened gums. The bottle’s butt flies up and in seconds, it had less than half of its drink.
So, is it working?
Nope. Just wait though.
No more. Nothing. Not a drop was left. Even when Kotetsu lifted it over his darted out tongue, nothing came out, so he threw it back and reached down for another bottle, repeating the process for the fourth time through the night. Because it helped, he thought. Drinking always helped. It made him feel better. Not forever, but at the moment at least and that was something big. A moment’s relief was golden treasure to him.
His consciousness began to titter at the edge, and maybe he did literally too by the small steps in Barnaby’s apartment. Or not. No. Yes? He didn’t fall, but he did meet the end of something-his decision, the choice among the options. The words reverberated in his head like the violent pattering of the rain against the city, and each of it gave his heart a pinch and his brain maybe another pint of beer. He remembered it clearly though, even the voice of the woman who said it and the way she spoke it. They were kindly, but they were very well aimed shots to his heart. She may have had been as well as a sniper, only of words that hurt like real, open wounds... and bullshit. No more. No more of this.
The thoughts were plaguing, eating up from the inside like some freaky microbes, but more than that, it stilled as a knife stabbed on his back and then forgotten. Every time he breathed, it pierced and it hurt because he still lived, digging deeper and deeper with every muscle that constricts. It was a burden of a life time.
Smile though.
“Kotetsu? Kotetsu, I told you to go straight to bed.”
Turn. Yes, just like that. Smile. Smile for the knife living on your back, sucking out every drop of your soul but keeping every bit of your happiness bottled safe and tight. Kotetsu suddenly felt the ache and almost fell over the man with the golden mane, but he caught himself before it happened. He stood unsteadily on his own, but his face had fallen forward unto Barnaby’s shoulder. He breathed in and had a smell of the sea-scent cologne. It drowned him almost instantly and he latched at the beautiful neck presented to him like a gift, biting and sucking.
“K-Kotetsu,” he gasped, then gritted his teeth in a stubborn struggle. “I can’t... I-”
He slid his hands down to the back, feeling for the perfectly sculpted curves, and only stopped to pull at the article of clothing keeping him from having it skin-to-skin. Kotetsu licked up the flawless neck to the ear and had his tongue dance sweetly in its depths, earning a breaking moan from the other. Words were being sputtered afterwards, but not a word registered in his head as something familiar, so he continued and traveled down further the body until he had his lover’s firm ass in his grasp.
Another gasp-another plea thrown out the window as nothing more than a senseless squabble and Kotetsu ventured further, grinding his hips against the lump that was slowly growing. While Barnaby continued to squirm, to fight, although already flushed red and aroused, he ripped the tailor suit off the chiseled body and returned to it with another harsh bite. He heard a hiss and a curse hidden there somewhere, then he sucked and licked at the spot, but bit on the body again once he was done with one. Shaped nails raked over his back, deep and stinging like cat claws, and maybe his green shirt even tore from it, but that was alright, because there was such a sweet gratification of getting a six foot flat of a man bent in half on the floor and fucking his intellectual brains out, stripped of any logical ability such as to speak with any sort of sense.
“Too-too much!” Barnaby cried, throwing his head back at the intense jab to his prostate. Something was off, that much he could tell, but he was being torn apart much too quickly and his pieces were being thrown farther and farther away with every thrust into his body that he couldn’t figure out much more than that. Even for a drunken Kotetsu, this treatment was too much-an unbalanced mix of pain and pleasure, slanting mostly towards suffering.
“Hurts! K-k-kotetsu!”
“Bunny...” he breathed, planting open-mouthed kisses all over the bare, sweat-drenched chest, and angled the force even better, pulling a ragged scream from a throat that had long gone dry and tired. From giving support, Kotetsu moved one hand from the ground to the pulsing, flushed column of flesh slapping against the naked body underneath him, and began to jerk and stroke and pull.
“Bunny, listen,”
“-d-down! Slow...ly-iih!” the King of Heroes sobbed, crying tears so big it shamed his angelic face. He pushed against the body that towered above him, finally having enough of the pain, and began to fight and scream with all what could have been anger, but none ever came out the way Barnaby intended them to come. None of the few words that ever made out his throat whole were enough to break through Kotetsu’s drunken stupor and make him stop.
The pain was almost like rape.
“Bunny,” Kotetsu jerked his hips more frantically, feeling heaven come closer with every muscle that tensed, and Barnaby’s hoarse breathing helped, brushing his weak spot near the neck when the man clutched at him as if holding for his dear life. “Are you close?”
“Just-just finish! Please!” he gasped and then bit on the brown, sweaty skin near his mouth. The pain was overwhelming that the relief of just having everything done and over with was more important than finding his own release in this messed up action of loving. His limbs had gone numb and the most part of his brain had shut down, his strength broken and his eyes swollen from the force of his tears... but it just kept on going and going and going that it seemed so much as a punishment at the moment.
Had he done something wrong?
He... he couldn’t recall. Too much pain. Too much... Make it stop. Somebody, please!
“Bunny, listen...”
Something coiled painfully in Kotetsu’s groin and he began thrusting even harder; consequently, Barnaby cried harder and yelled louder, and hated it more and more and more until something ticked and exploded inside him, but the rush of blood and the pounding in his ears didn’t cease. The thrusting continued past Kotetsu’s release and the pain grew worse as the end to this torture seemed farther than the Moon to Earth. Kotetsu moved his mouth close to Barnaby’s reddened ears, licking and tugging and blowing warm breath to the cold skin, and he shuddered, feeling the pinpricks of tickle despite the overwhelming pain.
Kotetsu whispered, almost inaudible, but Barnaby was somewhat sure that he heard it and he had heard it right. Although, he hoped he really didn’t. He hoped it was something else that just sounds so terribly alike, or maybe he was just drowned in euphoria or in too much pain. Maybe his brain just wasn’t acting right from the shortage of breath, or maybe this was all part of this sickening sex, but Kotetsu repeated it again and again and again that it became so painfully clear.
“Barnaby...”
It became so painfully real.
“I’m breaking up with you.”