Lust Laced Love

Prompt: week 35 deep at the LJ challenge comm iyhedonism (now closed)
A/N I still want to voice my displease against there being only one personal pronoun to use in reference to a male.*pouts* It makes some of this a bit confusing, I think. But I like the ambiguity.^-^ This one hails from Janury 2009, but isn't half bad. My friend Liz helped me to edit a certain irksome bit. Thank you dear!*hug*


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There was nothing outside the moment. Nothing past their panting breaths, the way sweat glistened on their worn bodies, hearts beating in chests like dying. The emotion, the feel of it so obliterating, consuming. Passion zinging in their blood, boiling as they moved. Sighs and moans shivering over nude flesh.

“Go deep...”

The plead was needy, whispered with urgency. Lust lacing the tongue that thus spoke, the tone soft yet rich, male and low. Promises of decadent pleasure lingered on it's edges and yet as it now voiced it's desires there was nothing commanding in it. Just pure unadulterated submission. It was a beg, a plea, a desperately murmured want.

But would his lover heed?

Glowing eyes watched the body stretched before his very eyes. A pale canvas of exposed flesh, a willowy frame melting under his clawed touch. Hard muscles, rippling, undulating under him. Displayed in such a way as to lure a saint. Splayed and open, impaled on his own flesh, the pale twin globes nestling him within their tight valley. He was breached but not yet claimed. Their games just beginning, both hearts thrumming with anticipation. Whispers, gasps, caresses leading to this, kisses such as could never be articulated, dirty and twisted.

They played their game with practised ease, reaching into the dark recesses of their being, reaching and pulling out their most base desires.

Want.

Lust.

Desire.

Love might be there somewhere, who would know? Between the two of them, what they had, the union of their heated bodies in the night, their brokenly whispered ardour... did they know it was love? Wasn't it just their hearts want to not be alone? Was that love?

Both were too broken to see if it was real or not.

Too scarred to ever be whole, even in each others erotic embrace, even in the words they cried to each other as the world around them fell to pieces, everything scattered and unverified. Neither could believe it real. But this, their base connection, maybe it was the real thing? Maybe this would make them more whole if they did it enough? Piece them if not into two separate individuals, then into one.

And both knew, even if they dared not say it, that the latter was something they could live with.

Love was a scarcely uttered word in their couplings. If it wasn't what they really had, why utter it? And yet...

The monk did say it often. Letting it tumble from his lips as he was filled, filled to the brink of breaking and back. Entered so deep that they were of one flesh if not soul. It was a debauched, depraved litany of prayer, of reverent dedication from him. The beads of his hand, his doom, sliding along a strong arm, gripping hip, meshing into silver hair as he prayed. Love and a name. Love and a name his prayer to an idol that would not save him. His body and mind made so alive in the act of sex that in the oblivion he did believe he would live forever. Entreating his lover to go ever deeper. To mesh them together so good they would never come apart. To knot inside him and stay there as he murmured his love into liquid moonlight.

And he? His misbegotten, damaged lover?

His retribution and redemption. His punisher and saviour. The man who woke him to life again in the most visceral ways. Promised him hope, a chance for a tomorrow. All lies which both still believed. It was a flimsy chance, a fools hope and yet neither spoke of the unreality of it. Soothing words whispered to a human ear as a nightmare, a reminder of his fate, assaulted his dreams making future into a nightmare in the now. Strong hands holding a shaking human body as the holy man slipped back into deep sleep away from his worries as the dying embers of their fire reflected the gold of crying eyes.

Both so damaged and beyond repair.

And still they tried.

For the other. For the other to be at least that bit more whole when they themselves would eventually fall in the dire reality of their lives, giving their all to protect the one they'd leave behind. Weave together the ripped strands of their lives, patch the deep hurt, mend a scarred heart. Even if their words weren't enough, bodies all but made for the lack. Speaking where words, names, couldn't. Touching where speech would not reach. Getting deep within, gripping and twisting, making past hurt into buried memories. Their nightly encounters, their idle afternoons, stolen gropes and kisses all they needed to touch places so long hidden.

Drowning in a gaze as leg rested over a narrow shoulder, body meeting body in a slow thrust, a shallow fill. Un-shed tears, unvoiced affection transpiring, floating, making long years of loneliness disperse just a bit away.

He was just on the brink of fucking him raw, sending him past that point where coherency lay. There was a never-ending moment, an eternity in his lingering hesitation, in which the hanyou wondered: Maybe it was love? Not love in the annoying way she thought it was, no. Rather a love that was so deep that their words were inadequate to measure it. Nothing they uttered in tangible, meaningful syllables would be able to express it between them. And he realized, as he drew out and back to bury inside the exquisite heat of his affectionate perversity, realized what had been right in front of him the whole time.

His fangs piercing neck as the human yanked him up, filling him so they were one flesh, connected beyond possible, beyond separation. Marking the other as his own as he claimed him again and again. Letting him feel the full depth of his love, the full meaning of their joining, the connection of their broken souls into one whole.

And it was like nothing else.

Transcending beyond reality and meaning they swirled in the haze of their mating, his energy covering his, darkness blending to light. Hope blossoming as doubt dispersed just a bit further. Driven by instinct he had been and never had he been so glad. A fragile mortal body shuddering in his arms as his own mind still shook with the openness, the weight of every feeling and emotion they had ever shared, he vowed to protect. Wrenching open his own soul to merge with his lovers was the utter connection, his last barrier against the humans invasion. No, not invasion. His shamelessly devious and hedonistic approach. And as he now saw into the man's soul, his heart laid bare before him like his own was to the other... They truly matched in their misery.

Reaching, grappling for an orgasm that was now of secondary importance, they rode the passion while their minds aligned. Human to hanyou. Loss and tragedy shared. Death of a loved one, a carer, shared in a blinding flash of hidden pain that made both weep, their tears drowned by their moans as their bodies found completion outside their minds. Knotting, twisting, they were bound to each other, eyes open as they gazed into each others souls.

No more words were needed.

They saw and heard. Understood without words. Emotion and memories flitting in-between. His deep dilated purple met his golden. He sensed him as did he. Realization dawned. Full weight of what had transpired. There was nothing to compare this to. Deep linking of minds, hearts so knotted as to never come apart.

“Thank you...”

It was hushed, uttered even while there was no need. He understood him. Could feel the warm glow of his soul as the scarred, scared human boy, the youth who he embraced with shaking hands, looked at him. His mate. His other half for the rest of their lives.

“I know...”

Spoken for his benefit, his comfort. And he suddenly noticed himself in need for the words. If only to hear his lovers voice again as he would answer. Basking in the afterglow his mind still reeled, interlinked and never parting from his lovers. They had touched briefly on occasions of heightened pleasure, wanton oblivion and even the speck of blood linking them fleetingly. But never like this. Feeling himself all the way up there, deep within a well-used passage, feel himself there and feel his satisfaction too.

“What is this?”

As ever, there was the need to know, the brush of beads against his arm, eyes widening as the touch was felt both ways. And it wasn't shunned. Curious eyes followed the path of a finger down his arm and his mate shivered and bit back a moan.

“Connection.”

“Will it always be like this? Like I am never alone?”

And he knew now how very scared his lover had always been. Eyes sought out eyes, reassuring, loving. Heart touched heart. Lust laced love and made past seem meaningless, obsolete.

“Always.”