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Title: Like a Fire
Pairing: Mikhail/Armand
Rating: M
Warning: Slash. Heavy Angst.
A/N: Well, I’ve always wanted to write this, since I don’t think I might be able to include this part into the main novel… Set three years after Stockholm. It's funny that when it comes to one-shot, I can write more in a short period of time. It's even funnier that I can write epilogues when I haven't even written the middle part of the main story. Sometimes, my mind amazes me more than I can ever be amazed.
Like a Fire
He watched the soft breathing of his lover, the way his shoulder blades would rise up and fall as he intake and exhale each breath. Moving to his side, he propped his head up on his palm and continued watching.
He had left the window open, the pale moonlight showing off his younger counterpart’s body. The traces of afterglow had disseminated already, leaving a peaceful sleeping angel in its wake. Years had passed by, and still, Mikhail couldn’t believe he still has the Armand Botticelli on his bed. His little kitten.
The war was over. Jeremy went back to his home in Italy, hoping to find his way back to Ægis with his real parents. The organization was no more, yet it amazed him that after all that had happened, Armand would still want to go back to his arms. The forgiving and forgetting parts were hard for both of them, especially on Armand. But after three years of working it out, they’re finally back on Cloud 9. Everything from the past was put aside as both of them were set in starting over.
The bed shifted, the sleeping man slowly coming around. Opening his eyes bit by bit, Armand squinted at his lover before grinning meekly.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”
As usual, Mikhail didn’t answer. He only let a small smile grace his lips, and closed his eyes. Laying a hand on the small of the other’s back, he pulled Armand closer, chests touching each other. He ignored the moan coming from the younger man, and started to stroke his backside, soothing the tense muscles.
Biting the other’s neck, the former leader of Sigma Rho pushed his lover to his back, swallowing the oncoming moan with a hot kiss. Tongues started to battle for dominance as hands wander around each other’s body, touching and feeling every inch they both knew so well. The sensations it brought spiked up the already humid air around them, rising the arousing tension another notch.
Like a fire, their nightly dance had become so wild, so untamed it made both of them lose their minds. Their nerves would unwind and the rhythm would kick in. Hips rocking against each other, Mikhail nudged his lover’s thighs open before trailing one of his hands farther south.
The louder moan prevailed as Armand felt the searing hot touch on his arousal, all of his blood traveling straight to his groin in such a fast pace. His face flushed up, hands fisting the pillows, knuckles turning white. He moaned again when he felt a finger teased the slit, from the tip then to the base, before passing through and into his entrance.
The finger stayed there though, unmoving. Groaning, Armand tried lifting his hips up to get more of the digit inside of him. But he was deterred. Before he could protest any further, the finger left him, only to come back again with another one.
Biting his lip, Mikhail willed himself not to pound into the man under him. The least he could do was to show the amount of self-control he had. With his other hand, he shifted slightly on the bed, trying to look for the lube.
A hand latched itself onto his, and when he looked up, a flushing Armand glared at him.
“Don’t.”
Mikhail wanted to say otherwise, but when he felt another buck of the younger man’s hips, he complied.
“Stop me when it hurts.”
If the other nodded back, Mikhail didn’t know. All he knew was that when he entered him, he was engulfed in a great heat. Droplets of sweat fell one by one from his back to the sheets, his senses caught up in lust and desire. The intensity of it nearly made him choke of air to breath. It was as if like he was caught in a wildfire. The image of his beautiful angel with his hairs spread out underneath him, it tempted him to ravish his lover even more. The only thought that held him back from truly making love with Armand was the memory of the past. No matter how hard they—no, he try to relieve himself of his past, the feeling stayed. He didn’t even know which part of him had the guts to call his kitten a lover.
Gripping those slim delicate hips, unmindful of the pain it’ll cause to the former model student, Mikhail slowly withdrew, before plunging in again, hard. The tightness that engulfed him drove all of his uncertainties away as he stifled a groan.
His lovely kitten cried out a shrill cry, his back arching up as he felt those bundles of nerves inside being pounded mercilessly. His hand flew up and he grabbed onto Mikhail, lifting his hips off the bed to take more of his lover in. He needed this, needed it so bad it’s already suffocating him far too much.
“Harder!”
He gasped and moaned, but they’re all left unheard. White lights had already been gathering behind his closed eyelids, and somehow, he could feel himself soaring. Above him, Mikhail pushed both of his legs farther up, knees parallel to his shoulders. Shuddering, he clawed Mikhail’s back, letting out another shrill cry as his sweet spot was pounded again, only this time harder than ever before.
Without the need of being touched, Armand came with a loud cry. His muscles clenched around Mikhail, forcing the other to let out a loud gasp. With one final thrust, Mikhail climaxed inside of the younger man, filling him to the fullest.
They both collapsed on top of each other, breaths coming in short pants as they both tried to catch their breaths.
He brushed a hand against Armand’s forehead, asking himself again how he can be so lucky. He was the one who ruined their past. He was the one who ruined every chance of happiness they can have in the future. He was the one who hurt his best friend, among other things he had done. Somehow, he felt truly undeserving of such blessing, much less his angel. Mikhail felt a stirring beneath him.
Peering his eyes open at the touch, Armand watched the absent gaze of his lover. Yes, he knew he’s the only one between the two of them who called the other significant a lover. He may not be he one who destroyed the hope, but he was the one who withdrew from the warmth first. A part of him felt though that he has to be the one who’ll rekindle the flame, after all those misunderstandings and ambitions that had gotten into their way.
He reached out a hand and pulled the other’s head closer until their foreheads were touching. Mikhail’s eyes widen a bit at the sudden move, but Armand kept his eyes straight.
“This is the only chance we have left.” He whispered more to himself than the other. He could feel the slow shutting of Mikhail’s eyes, those thin eyelashes brushing against his cheek as the former leader of Sigma Rho rolled over to face the other side of the bed.
Armand sighed. After all they’ve done in these past three years, he had the feeling that nothing was really solved between them. He swore he tried his very best to patch things up, but it seems like that no matter how hard he try, he can’t reach out to Mikhail anymore.
‘Has it really been that long?’ He asked himself. Once he was the person who always tagged along in every place Mikhail would go to. Once he was the lost affectionate kitten Mikhail adopted. Everything changed though after the incident in Italy, when Armand met him, when Mikhail became obsessed with his powers and that Rosenkreuz girl. He could still remember that night when he told Mikhail to drop everything he had planned. The smothering look Mikhail had given him, the slap that he inflicted on him. It really hurt. The physical pain, yes, but it was the emotional pain that hurt the most. He couldn’t recall if he cried or only a tear fell after the hit. He was only sure that he kept his stand there and lost the strength to look up at the man he used to love. He couldn’t even bare to be within his presence anymore.
Sighing again, Armand sat up and swung his feet over the bed. Without caring about his nudity, he walked away from their shared bed and headed straight for the bathroom. The feel of dried semen inside his inner thigh was making his skin itch, but most of all, the knowledge of his unresponsive lover…companion lying beside him made his mood sour. The only thing he needed now was a really cold shower; the least it could do was to keep him from thinking even worse matters.
Cold, unwavering eyes stared absently at the moonlight, the pale slivers it made entering past the window sending him to a void state of mind. It was no use. He had tried to tell him those bittersweet words that he knew can finally heal the wound between them. But he ran away. He ran away with his tail between his feet. Now, it’s not just a part of him that felt ashamed. He couldn’t find any reasons to excuse himself, nor dug any hole that he can hide in. All he knew was that he had failed to grasp that chance of reconciling; the chance that he knew was given to him by his kitten to make up.
His heart fell with more remorse when he heard the sound of pouring water coming from the shower. Sitting up, he gathered his clothes and started to put them back on. So ashamed he was of himself that the least Mikhail could do was leaving the apartment and a note that he left on the unkempt bed; a note with nothing but a dried tear.
‘I loved you.’
END
Pairing: Mikhail/Armand
Rating: M
Warning: Slash. Heavy Angst.
A/N: Well, I’ve always wanted to write this, since I don’t think I might be able to include this part into the main novel… Set three years after Stockholm. It's funny that when it comes to one-shot, I can write more in a short period of time. It's even funnier that I can write epilogues when I haven't even written the middle part of the main story. Sometimes, my mind amazes me more than I can ever be amazed.
He watched the soft breathing of his lover, the way his shoulder blades would rise up and fall as he intake and exhale each breath. Moving to his side, he propped his head up on his palm and continued watching.
He had left the window open, the pale moonlight showing off his younger counterpart’s body. The traces of afterglow had disseminated already, leaving a peaceful sleeping angel in its wake. Years had passed by, and still, Mikhail couldn’t believe he still has the Armand Botticelli on his bed. His little kitten.
The war was over. Jeremy went back to his home in Italy, hoping to find his way back to Ægis with his real parents. The organization was no more, yet it amazed him that after all that had happened, Armand would still want to go back to his arms. The forgiving and forgetting parts were hard for both of them, especially on Armand. But after three years of working it out, they’re finally back on Cloud 9. Everything from the past was put aside as both of them were set in starting over.
The bed shifted, the sleeping man slowly coming around. Opening his eyes bit by bit, Armand squinted at his lover before grinning meekly.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”
As usual, Mikhail didn’t answer. He only let a small smile grace his lips, and closed his eyes. Laying a hand on the small of the other’s back, he pulled Armand closer, chests touching each other. He ignored the moan coming from the younger man, and started to stroke his backside, soothing the tense muscles.
Biting the other’s neck, the former leader of Sigma Rho pushed his lover to his back, swallowing the oncoming moan with a hot kiss. Tongues started to battle for dominance as hands wander around each other’s body, touching and feeling every inch they both knew so well. The sensations it brought spiked up the already humid air around them, rising the arousing tension another notch.
Like a fire, their nightly dance had become so wild, so untamed it made both of them lose their minds. Their nerves would unwind and the rhythm would kick in. Hips rocking against each other, Mikhail nudged his lover’s thighs open before trailing one of his hands farther south.
The louder moan prevailed as Armand felt the searing hot touch on his arousal, all of his blood traveling straight to his groin in such a fast pace. His face flushed up, hands fisting the pillows, knuckles turning white. He moaned again when he felt a finger teased the slit, from the tip then to the base, before passing through and into his entrance.
The finger stayed there though, unmoving. Groaning, Armand tried lifting his hips up to get more of the digit inside of him. But he was deterred. Before he could protest any further, the finger left him, only to come back again with another one.
Biting his lip, Mikhail willed himself not to pound into the man under him. The least he could do was to show the amount of self-control he had. With his other hand, he shifted slightly on the bed, trying to look for the lube.
A hand latched itself onto his, and when he looked up, a flushing Armand glared at him.
“Don’t.”
Mikhail wanted to say otherwise, but when he felt another buck of the younger man’s hips, he complied.
“Stop me when it hurts.”
If the other nodded back, Mikhail didn’t know. All he knew was that when he entered him, he was engulfed in a great heat. Droplets of sweat fell one by one from his back to the sheets, his senses caught up in lust and desire. The intensity of it nearly made him choke of air to breath. It was as if like he was caught in a wildfire. The image of his beautiful angel with his hairs spread out underneath him, it tempted him to ravish his lover even more. The only thought that held him back from truly making love with Armand was the memory of the past. No matter how hard they—no, he try to relieve himself of his past, the feeling stayed. He didn’t even know which part of him had the guts to call his kitten a lover.
Gripping those slim delicate hips, unmindful of the pain it’ll cause to the former model student, Mikhail slowly withdrew, before plunging in again, hard. The tightness that engulfed him drove all of his uncertainties away as he stifled a groan.
His lovely kitten cried out a shrill cry, his back arching up as he felt those bundles of nerves inside being pounded mercilessly. His hand flew up and he grabbed onto Mikhail, lifting his hips off the bed to take more of his lover in. He needed this, needed it so bad it’s already suffocating him far too much.
“Harder!”
He gasped and moaned, but they’re all left unheard. White lights had already been gathering behind his closed eyelids, and somehow, he could feel himself soaring. Above him, Mikhail pushed both of his legs farther up, knees parallel to his shoulders. Shuddering, he clawed Mikhail’s back, letting out another shrill cry as his sweet spot was pounded again, only this time harder than ever before.
Without the need of being touched, Armand came with a loud cry. His muscles clenched around Mikhail, forcing the other to let out a loud gasp. With one final thrust, Mikhail climaxed inside of the younger man, filling him to the fullest.
They both collapsed on top of each other, breaths coming in short pants as they both tried to catch their breaths.
He brushed a hand against Armand’s forehead, asking himself again how he can be so lucky. He was the one who ruined their past. He was the one who ruined every chance of happiness they can have in the future. He was the one who hurt his best friend, among other things he had done. Somehow, he felt truly undeserving of such blessing, much less his angel. Mikhail felt a stirring beneath him.
Peering his eyes open at the touch, Armand watched the absent gaze of his lover. Yes, he knew he’s the only one between the two of them who called the other significant a lover. He may not be he one who destroyed the hope, but he was the one who withdrew from the warmth first. A part of him felt though that he has to be the one who’ll rekindle the flame, after all those misunderstandings and ambitions that had gotten into their way.
He reached out a hand and pulled the other’s head closer until their foreheads were touching. Mikhail’s eyes widen a bit at the sudden move, but Armand kept his eyes straight.
“This is the only chance we have left.” He whispered more to himself than the other. He could feel the slow shutting of Mikhail’s eyes, those thin eyelashes brushing against his cheek as the former leader of Sigma Rho rolled over to face the other side of the bed.
Armand sighed. After all they’ve done in these past three years, he had the feeling that nothing was really solved between them. He swore he tried his very best to patch things up, but it seems like that no matter how hard he try, he can’t reach out to Mikhail anymore.
‘Has it really been that long?’ He asked himself. Once he was the person who always tagged along in every place Mikhail would go to. Once he was the lost affectionate kitten Mikhail adopted. Everything changed though after the incident in Italy, when Armand met him, when Mikhail became obsessed with his powers and that Rosenkreuz girl. He could still remember that night when he told Mikhail to drop everything he had planned. The smothering look Mikhail had given him, the slap that he inflicted on him. It really hurt. The physical pain, yes, but it was the emotional pain that hurt the most. He couldn’t recall if he cried or only a tear fell after the hit. He was only sure that he kept his stand there and lost the strength to look up at the man he used to love. He couldn’t even bare to be within his presence anymore.
Sighing again, Armand sat up and swung his feet over the bed. Without caring about his nudity, he walked away from their shared bed and headed straight for the bathroom. The feel of dried semen inside his inner thigh was making his skin itch, but most of all, the knowledge of his unresponsive lover…companion lying beside him made his mood sour. The only thing he needed now was a really cold shower; the least it could do was to keep him from thinking even worse matters.
Cold, unwavering eyes stared absently at the moonlight, the pale slivers it made entering past the window sending him to a void state of mind. It was no use. He had tried to tell him those bittersweet words that he knew can finally heal the wound between them. But he ran away. He ran away with his tail between his feet. Now, it’s not just a part of him that felt ashamed. He couldn’t find any reasons to excuse himself, nor dug any hole that he can hide in. All he knew was that he had failed to grasp that chance of reconciling; the chance that he knew was given to him by his kitten to make up.
His heart fell with more remorse when he heard the sound of pouring water coming from the shower. Sitting up, he gathered his clothes and started to put them back on. So ashamed he was of himself that the least Mikhail could do was leaving the apartment and a note that he left on the unkempt bed; a note with nothing but a dried tear.
‘I loved you.’
END
bite me