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sevenswellsTitle: Hoshi no Suna
Author:![[info]](https://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
sevenswells
Rating: NC-17
Band/Pairing: Gackt/Miyavi
Warnings: Totally Not Safe For Work, yaoi, angst, kink (I guess?), and most of all, ALTERNATE UNIVERSE, I insist.
Word Count: 1 233 w.
Comments: Dedicated to my one and only beta,kamexkame .
Also dedicated tosupacat and thin_lipid cos your awesomeness has just no end.
Author:
sevenswellsRating: NC-17
Band/Pairing: Gackt/Miyavi
Warnings: Totally Not Safe For Work, yaoi, angst, kink (I guess?), and most of all, ALTERNATE UNIVERSE, I insist.
Word Count: 1 233 w.
Comments: Dedicated to my one and only beta,
kamexkame . Also dedicated to
supacat and thin_lipid cos your awesomeness has just no end.I don't call out "tadaima", nobody will answer back "okaeri" anyway. There's just my mother and me. I can hear her in the kitchen, all pans tinkling. She knows I'm home and acts like she's busy; I'm not even sure the pans she's manipulating with so much noise contain anything, really. I go up to my room, rythmically tapping my New Rocks on the steps. The noise in the kitchen has stopped. She's understood I am fucking around with her. Torturing her is not all that much fun for me. I'm just doing it by principle. Although at the last minute, I decide not to bang my bedroom door shut.
I was sincerely surprised when she accepted to put me up. Well, I presume that she must have gotten really lonely. That is so her, choosing to live alongside her worst enemy rather than by herself. I had found her a sad and sickly creature, on the door step, staring at me with those big eyes as if I were a ghost.
Since I have the worst habit of postponing every little feeling, it was only long after that I realised how shocked I had been. As far as I remember, she's always shone with the kind of light that is the sole property of all the god-crazed religious maniacs. And yet I saw her armour dislocate in front of my very eyes when she found out, about Takeshi and I, in the most brutal way there is: me, sitting on Takeshi's lap, dressed in my sister's school uniform, him, his hand in between my thighs, under my tucked-up skirt.
She still held her Bible in her hand: her catechism had been cancelled at the last minute, so she came back home. When she saw us, her body shrunk, like a star shrivels as it dies. The sacred book fell on the floor. Then she got out, slamming the door behind her. Takeshi kept stroking me carelessly. I pushed him back, irritated, and approached the door. Muffled little noises filtered through the wood. She was crying.
I always thought she would discover it, one day or another, that business I had with Takeshi. Whenever I screwed up, she knew immediately: she possessed some sort of sixth sense for that kind of stuff. Her sense of smell was as developped as that of a bitch, so I'm pretty sure she must have already smelled my mouth reeked of cum when I kissed her good night, after Takeshi's visits.
I wasn't very careful, and any wanker pretending to be a psychologist could tell: deep inside, I wanted her to find out, too.
Listening to her crying, though, smothering her sobs -- like she's always smothered everything else -- behind my bedroom door, I wasn't so sure anymore. I didn't know what to do.
Takeshi took a decision in my stead: he grabbed his schoolbag, put his jacket back on and went to open the door. I wanted to stop him but he moved faster. He passed by my mother grumbling some inaudible salutation and ran down the stairs. The main door slammed. And then, silence.
When she entered my room again, I started and backed off a few steps, cornered. Hands behind my back, I touched the wall behind me -- I wanted to go right through it and disappear. In the quiet of the room, only the daft sound of her slippers rubbing against the wooden floor could be heard. She leaned over, picked up the Bible and emitted in a ghostly voice, without looking at me:
-Take off these clothes this minute and go wash yourself. After that, I don't want you to see that boy ever again. I'll go warn your grandmother too, so that she won't have him visiting at her place either.
And she was out.
I was ashamed, I was furious. At her. At Takeshi. At myself.
I took off my sister's clothes and kicked them on the floor, then I went out stark naked in the corridor, walking straight to the bathroom.
I would run away. Start a new life. Grandma would lend me some money, then I would find way to get by, whoring maybe. I would speak to Takeshi about it, he had relatives in Tokyo.
Tokyo was the promised land.
It's only now I realise what a little shit I was. That idealism of mine was only a product of my fertile boredom, but I trusted that tide that suddenly caught me in, and the excitement made up this whim to appear like a good idea.
Though even I can understand the little cunt I used to be when I take a look around me. Boredom, every fucking where. Living in a shit hole lost somewhere in the middle of Hokkaido, which is the most godforsaken island in the whole of Japan; living a shitty life waiting for death to bother dropping by. My room hasn't changed, just like everything else.
I need some air. I need a smoke. But I don't have any cigarettes nor cash to buy them. I'll have to wait until tomorrow, when I'll start my job at the conbini. I take off my clothes and my boots and lie down on my teenage bed.
I opt to jerk off, to ease all this pent-up tension out of my body. I review my memories and fantasies. No, not the ones concerning Takeshi, I'll end up faking orgasm even when having a wank. I close my eyes and let the tip of my fingers graze my nipples. I take a deep breath. I don't want to think about him, either. It hurt bad enough seeing him on TV at grandmother's place, today. I stroke down my belly, it tickles a bit. My fingers play with pubic hair a little , then I let my middle finger slide down the length of my sex, which starts to pulse with the rush of blood. My hand goes round to fondle my balls as my cock rises slowly and the foreskin pulls back, revealing its shiny glans. But I accidentally touch the scab on my thigh: the mere contact sends electric shocks throughout my body. I can't stand it anymore: I grab my cock only halfway hard. Almost without thinking, I call out his name in a murmur:
-Kamui...
It's as if I've pulled a switch on: flows of sensations come back to me, in violent flashes, like a stroboscope: his voice, his deep voice heavy with smoke, his scent, the taste of his sperm, his tongue penetrating my ear, the dirty words that turned me on, his teeth -- I'm speeding up the rythm, I think about the cock that had got me so hooked -- my breath starts hissing, my ankles around his neck, the banging, his cries of pleasure, the saliva - I put the middle finger of my free hand in my mouth, suck it, and make it penetrate my hole which swallows it hungrily, push it deeper; with my other hand, I keep on caressing myself, faster and faster, Kamui, Kamui...
...ha.
I feel my muscles relax, bit by bit, as I slowly come to. I roll on the side, pull out my finger. Fresh cum from my desperate onanism is spreaded on the palm of hand. I lick at some of it.
I feel empty.
He's not there.
I was sincerely surprised when she accepted to put me up. Well, I presume that she must have gotten really lonely. That is so her, choosing to live alongside her worst enemy rather than by herself. I had found her a sad and sickly creature, on the door step, staring at me with those big eyes as if I were a ghost.
Since I have the worst habit of postponing every little feeling, it was only long after that I realised how shocked I had been. As far as I remember, she's always shone with the kind of light that is the sole property of all the god-crazed religious maniacs. And yet I saw her armour dislocate in front of my very eyes when she found out, about Takeshi and I, in the most brutal way there is: me, sitting on Takeshi's lap, dressed in my sister's school uniform, him, his hand in between my thighs, under my tucked-up skirt.
She still held her Bible in her hand: her catechism had been cancelled at the last minute, so she came back home. When she saw us, her body shrunk, like a star shrivels as it dies. The sacred book fell on the floor. Then she got out, slamming the door behind her. Takeshi kept stroking me carelessly. I pushed him back, irritated, and approached the door. Muffled little noises filtered through the wood. She was crying.
I always thought she would discover it, one day or another, that business I had with Takeshi. Whenever I screwed up, she knew immediately: she possessed some sort of sixth sense for that kind of stuff. Her sense of smell was as developped as that of a bitch, so I'm pretty sure she must have already smelled my mouth reeked of cum when I kissed her good night, after Takeshi's visits.
I wasn't very careful, and any wanker pretending to be a psychologist could tell: deep inside, I wanted her to find out, too.
Listening to her crying, though, smothering her sobs -- like she's always smothered everything else -- behind my bedroom door, I wasn't so sure anymore. I didn't know what to do.
Takeshi took a decision in my stead: he grabbed his schoolbag, put his jacket back on and went to open the door. I wanted to stop him but he moved faster. He passed by my mother grumbling some inaudible salutation and ran down the stairs. The main door slammed. And then, silence.
When she entered my room again, I started and backed off a few steps, cornered. Hands behind my back, I touched the wall behind me -- I wanted to go right through it and disappear. In the quiet of the room, only the daft sound of her slippers rubbing against the wooden floor could be heard. She leaned over, picked up the Bible and emitted in a ghostly voice, without looking at me:
-Take off these clothes this minute and go wash yourself. After that, I don't want you to see that boy ever again. I'll go warn your grandmother too, so that she won't have him visiting at her place either.
And she was out.
I was ashamed, I was furious. At her. At Takeshi. At myself.
I took off my sister's clothes and kicked them on the floor, then I went out stark naked in the corridor, walking straight to the bathroom.
I would run away. Start a new life. Grandma would lend me some money, then I would find way to get by, whoring maybe. I would speak to Takeshi about it, he had relatives in Tokyo.
Tokyo was the promised land.
It's only now I realise what a little shit I was. That idealism of mine was only a product of my fertile boredom, but I trusted that tide that suddenly caught me in, and the excitement made up this whim to appear like a good idea.
Though even I can understand the little cunt I used to be when I take a look around me. Boredom, every fucking where. Living in a shit hole lost somewhere in the middle of Hokkaido, which is the most godforsaken island in the whole of Japan; living a shitty life waiting for death to bother dropping by. My room hasn't changed, just like everything else.
I need some air. I need a smoke. But I don't have any cigarettes nor cash to buy them. I'll have to wait until tomorrow, when I'll start my job at the conbini. I take off my clothes and my boots and lie down on my teenage bed.
I opt to jerk off, to ease all this pent-up tension out of my body. I review my memories and fantasies. No, not the ones concerning Takeshi, I'll end up faking orgasm even when having a wank. I close my eyes and let the tip of my fingers graze my nipples. I take a deep breath. I don't want to think about him, either. It hurt bad enough seeing him on TV at grandmother's place, today. I stroke down my belly, it tickles a bit. My fingers play with pubic hair a little , then I let my middle finger slide down the length of my sex, which starts to pulse with the rush of blood. My hand goes round to fondle my balls as my cock rises slowly and the foreskin pulls back, revealing its shiny glans. But I accidentally touch the scab on my thigh: the mere contact sends electric shocks throughout my body. I can't stand it anymore: I grab my cock only halfway hard. Almost without thinking, I call out his name in a murmur:
-Kamui...
It's as if I've pulled a switch on: flows of sensations come back to me, in violent flashes, like a stroboscope: his voice, his deep voice heavy with smoke, his scent, the taste of his sperm, his tongue penetrating my ear, the dirty words that turned me on, his teeth -- I'm speeding up the rythm, I think about the cock that had got me so hooked -- my breath starts hissing, my ankles around his neck, the banging, his cries of pleasure, the saliva - I put the middle finger of my free hand in my mouth, suck it, and make it penetrate my hole which swallows it hungrily, push it deeper; with my other hand, I keep on caressing myself, faster and faster, Kamui, Kamui...
...ha.
I feel my muscles relax, bit by bit, as I slowly come to. I roll on the side, pull out my finger. Fresh cum from my desperate onanism is spreaded on the palm of hand. I lick at some of it.
I feel empty.
He's not there.
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no subject
Date: 2008-01-30 11:02 am (UTC)do you have aim or yahoo or something? MSN even?
Sure, my address is lyra_benacqua[at]hotmail.com I'd be delighted to chat with you! ^^
do you RP?
You mean on LJ? I've heard about it but I don't know how it works at all, I've never done RP on the internet ever (I do roleplay games with my friends using dices and books though). I'm afraid I really am a total n00b, with all the bother it implies. ^^;;;