HUGE post of fic. (part one)
All my stories from comment_fic that I had building up.
Ranges from G to R (-ish).
KINGS
Kings, Joseph/Jack, Wicked Gentleman
Not even his father can accept him as he is, he's not sure anyone ever will. So he hides himself, the real him. So he is called demon by men of higher calling, men who would kneel before him with just a look. He is seen by all, but never seen for what he chooses to be (what he needs to be). He's not there.
His touch is hesitant, eyes see beyond all he has put up. He is of higher power, yet he accepts, he bends. The prince collapses before him, ragged breaths into his palm (knees dig into cool stone).
Eyes are red, face is pale and he murmurs nothing into his palm. Commoner, sweet thing that speaks of adoration and yet is silent lowers himself to level.
Hands are shaking as Prince touches flesh, does not vomit at feelings so long buried; quick funeral.
He is accepted with open arms.
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Kings, Jack/Joseph, better days
There are better days, days when he wants so desperately to believe that they can hold hands.
There are times where he wishes lights going out were common occurrence, allowing him to drown in hidden desires.
Joseph is always like putty underneath his body, bending to his every will. The prince's will tonight is just to be held and told he is not feeling something wrong and disgusting.
There are better days when Jack can make himself look into the mirror and not want to smash it to pieces that leave blood on his fists.
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Kings, Jack/Joseph, "I know the drill"
He falls into line with him, hidden in the shadows. As Jack rounds the corner to enter the party, he slips a note into the Prince's waiting hand.
Lips curving into small shy smile (not fitting of the image he lays), Jack glances into the shadows. Paper is thin and frayed feeling upon his palm, textured from constant folding; over and over. He reads the tiny script, smirking at the fact that he knows Joseph wrote it over and over, until he was sure it was perfect.
The music washes over him; hypnotic, it sends his pulse racing for the finish line. He looks at his watch, not once but twice. He looks so many times, he can tell time down to the very second.
Slipping away, it's as if he becomes one with the shadows. Always lived his life shaded by vile lies.
Lips find his own; fingers twist and grab at his hair; try to pull him closer then the air between them.
"I know the rules, the drill, never leave things in writing...but I had to," he murmurs, as Jack's lips drag across his jaw.
Lower to his collarbone and he forgets to speak.
"It's okay," he whispers, more gasps for air. "I'll keep it."
They bleed into the shadows even more then possible, leaving bruises of their frustration on each other.
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Kings, Jack/Joseph, the devil
"When you sleep dream of the dead."
He tries to do just so, clenches eyes shut until he'll go blind. Hell is like nothing he has imagined, flames lick at his skin and never burn.
He was ready to die, not accepted by God (father).
His pleas for forgiveness are ignored by devil, grinning demon in the night that haunts him every second. He morphs forms, taunts the prince until he feels himself slowly going insane. Michelle, dear little chosen one, rots away in cell far away, womb growing larger by the day (he refuses to understand).
Joseph is before him; bloody wound fresh, hands stained in the redness. Gun is always clutched tightly to him.
He's sick.
The devil twists his pained face into grin, presses his (false) familiar lips to him.
He cannot resist.
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Kings, Jack/Joseph, stolen moments
Each moment is stashed away into the corners of his mind, ready to be burned if necessary.
Back slams against wall, mouths hot on the other. Hands travel up shirts, disappear down pants.
A hidden lust, a disgusting evil lust. He wants it all the more.
Strangled whisper cuts off as hand covers his mouth.
"Don't say my name Joseph," he warns voice dark.
Dark as blood that ran through veins of a king.
Fall to bed, tangle in sheets.
Morning comes and he burns with shame, calls himself coward.
Moments turn to memories that replay over and over in his head.
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Kings, Jack/Joseph, "you can't forget me, no matter how hard you try"
He wants to curl up and die every time he remembers it.
"I love you," the sentence swarms into his mind, sickens and blackens his thoughts until he can't forget; doesn't want to forget.
He's supposed to leave behind who he is, abandon disgusting lusts and lust for the crown only.
His image runs through his mind, body hitting pavement and he wants to scream; hurt.
Fists slam into some unknown face, his own blood drops down his face. Pain engulfs him and only then can he forget; until the pain recedes.
And he's left with just memories.
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SMALLVILLE
Smallville, Davis/Chloe, you tame the beast within
Her touch is the faintest memory in his mind as he struggles not to become the monster hiding deep inside.
Shuts his eyes, gasps are broken breaths that never seem to even. Bones snap through flesh; screams of pain lodged in his throat, choking him.
Memories of blond hair threading through his hands fly past, so quick he can barely remembering even bringing them up.
The beast inside him screams for more scarlet upon the city of Metropolis; for the Krypton boy.
But the man just wants blond woman, woman who with just a touch rebuilds walls slowly breaking.
Eyes clench tighter as he lets out a scream that cuts off into something more feral.
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Smallville, Chloe/Davis, trust
She doesn't tell him her secrets; he doesn't bestow her with his.
He supposes they don't tell each other those secrets simply because betrayal hurts too much to bother trying.
Eyes turn away as he walks out the door, gone for hours upon hours.
They used to be spent worrying that perhaps...perhaps he'd never come back.
Until she found the blood splattered on his clothes one night.
Pretended to be blind because that was easier then the truth.
He grips her face between his palms, tears falling down her face.
"I have to do it Chloe, its destiny," he whispers, voice broken into so many pieces.
She clenches her eyes shut and nods her head. He trusts her, even through all this, trusts her not to betray love for friend.
"I'll miss you," she murmurs, voice cracking as she falls apart, seven years of bad luck.
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