Oneshot: Desire Lines

[andrew_in_drag]

Title: Desire Lines
Author: andrew_in_drag
Pairing: Kyo/Die
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: slash, hard drug use
Synopsis: Last night I dreamed that it was summer again.

Desire Lines

Last night I dreamed that it was summer again.

Sweet summer night.

Spent it stripped to the sheets.

Too hot to touch you, skin like fire, but I did it anyway.

You smiled into the curve of my neck, fingers chasing the lines and colours of my tattoos until my eyes blurred and they bled into my skin.

What kind of person lets someone draw all over their body?

This kind of person.

You put the world into sets of two, decks of cards with red suits, black suits, partnered cops, marriages, twins. In every set there's the difficult opposites: me flat on my back and you jittering at the window. I can hear it like a voice from the moon, from the clock, from your drumming fingers: you're not going to get tired. Crossing and uncrossing your long legs, braiding and unbraiding your long hair.

It's too hot. Let's go—

I know, I know. Quick feet have to move and smooth skin has to breathe.

So we'll go for a walk round the residential streets.

Where the air is so still because the buildings sleep.

Last night I dreamed that it was summer again.

Toxic orange city skies. Glowing sick. You smiled and lit a cigarette.

Even in my dreams, you're never exactly perfect. You itch and stutter over excited words, your eyes blink hectic, you smoke—

You smoke.

Yeah, well, do as I say and not as I do.

If I could I'd preserve you behind glass; wrap you up in plastic.

Even when I hear your voice in my head my own Gion drawl fades over it, in and out. My whole head, like a badly tuned radio; wincing on and off like a migraine.

You dance to the songs from the cars as they pass. Shooting static.

Shooting up.

Nimble feet against heated pavements that smell like they've been sucking up sun and car exhaust and rubber soles all day; breeze takes the summertime stink of soot and metal and trash in piles.

Your flushed face close to mine, your hands gentle around my face. I can feel the little pulses beating in your fingers.

I feel your lips move against my ear as you whisper to me, don't cool off, I like your warmth.

You have long, gentle musician's fingers. They're slipping under my shirt in a back alley, rough brick against my back; they're easing my clothes out of the way and freeing my skin to the night. In a quiet neighbourhood where people are living without wings, you let my pants fall around my knees and bite down on my lower lip.

Don't cool off.

I taste your hot, sweet mouth.

Trash in piles all over the city. It's a midnight feast for the rats.

You're the pied piper and they're following you out of town and into the river, into the deep blue sea.

I'm following, too. You're streamlining.

Mainlining.

Times like this, we're almost in love.

Last night I dreamed it was summer again.

Woke up on a bed of nails.

Turned to you scratching your arms bloody and disturbing the sleep-thick air with your shivers, your jaggedness, gritting your teeth and flashing sad, hateful eyes at me.

Spitting I can't do this anymore.

Crying I can't do this anymore.

Please. Please. Just one more time.

Smiling at me desperately, tears on your eyelashes, kissing my cheeks.

Every day has become a hangover.

You settle your long body over mine, and I wipe away the sweat beading on your forehead. It's not in my nature to be patient or to be gentle, but I try. You kiss me softly, your warm lips sticking to mine; you whisper beautiful lies in my deaf left ear.

Mumble touch me against my lips. Tendrils of your hair tickle my face, my collar bones, my chest. I watch your tongue trace the muscles there and think how weak I am in spite of it all.

Underneath our skin, we're all the same. Under our muscles and our bones, we're all just exactly the same: blood, and desire lines, crossing over us all. Running at parallels, never touching until we meet, and there they intersect.

And they form new angles.

You breathe warm over my flushed, hard dick, grind against me, groan soft. You catch me off guard by smiling, the boy you used to be flashes behind your eyes and I'm freefalling.

Freebasing.

The needle tracks blur on your arms.

Wind around me, tight as a tourniquet.

Digging your grave with a silver spoon.

Last night I dreamed that it was summer again.

You and I were on the pier and you were ducking out of the shadows, grinning that same old stupid, love-me grin, sunlight unfolding in your hair. You licked salt from my lips, held my hand as the seabirds squalled.

Hey, kicking me gently, I love you.

Yeah, well, I love you too.

Sweet eyes. Smooth smile against my temple, and your forehead knocks tenderly against mine.

Forever?

Yeah, forever.

A/N: Partially inspired by two things. a) Requiem for a Dream, b) the fact that my room is so. fucking. hot.
I am impressed by my productivity today! One Aoi/Uruha oneshot, one Die/Kyo oneshot and half a chapter of House of Cards. Also, as of 11pm, no less than 48 people have come through my journal today. Thanks for commenting guys.
^ Obviously I have decided that passive-aggression is the way to get feedback. Cry cry cry.

Comments

[andrew-in-drag.livejournal.com]

I am LOLing at 'stalking disorder', because yes I do and totally. But don't let it make you paranoid! You have always been so kind and nice and encouraging with your comments; I've always had so much support from you; you have BEYOND earned yourself a free pass. Like those fast-track tickets you get at Disneyland.

As for Requiem for a Dream, oh god I love that movie so much already. The bit that always comes back and inspires me is that little interlude where Harry is fucked off his face and he hallucinates Marion at the end of the pier at Coney Island. That bit just always made me so sad; it's such a good way of demonstrating how we fantasize about idealised versions of people and life, even when the truth is so different.

But seriously, I really hope you don't feel like you absolutely have to comment every time! You get to sit at the front of the class with me. Next to the blackboard. And El Barba

[velvet-liquor.livejournal.com]

Don't worry, I don't feel like I have to comment, but I want to ♥ it's a bit like giving treats to a cute puppy. You give it, and you can't help but smile when you see the puppy wriggling its tail happily. And then, of course, you put a wig on it. Or a hat. Or a sombrero. Because.

Oh oh, I get the front seat. Do I get to grope you under the table?

FUCK I WANT TO GO BACK TO DISNEYLAAAAND. I'll go. Soon. Next weeeeek ♥

[andrew-in-drag.livejournal.com]

What happens under the table stays under the table bb.

Sombrero?! IT'S A DOG, IT'S NOT KAORU

I haven't been to Disneyland in years. I would love to go back! I love theme parks so much; I always say I'm not going to go on the big roller coasters and then I do and then it's like, suck my dick, I didn't even throw up. Are you legitimately going next week?! Because DAMN YOU FRENCH I'M SO JEALOUS if you are!

[velvet-liquor.livejournal.com]

Oh yes I am going there 8D I'll send you pics, because I'm evil like that 8D