Red - Reita x Ruki - 1/1
Title: Red
Author: silveryxdark @ arcoireis
Chapters: 1/1
Pairings: Reita x Ruki
Genre: Angst, horror
Rating: PG-15/R
Warnings: Blood, self-harm & suicide.
Disclaimer: Boys are not mine and never will be. ;_;
Summary: They paint a beautiful, grotesque picture, contrasting against the white of his skin - skin that has rarely seen the sun these days. He thinks he can see a kind of pattern there, among the dripping fluid - so vividly red, God - and silvered scars.
A/N: Inspired by the lyrics of RED (however unofficial). I'm not sure I've written anything like this before, so well, constructive criticism is very much welcome ^.^
His heart goes badump badump badump against the confines of his ribcage, pumping blood - crimson red blood - through his arteries, his veins. The blade kisses his white skin - again and again - and through the crisscrossing cuts leaks the red, red blood he loves and hates so much.
They paint a beautiful, grotesque picture, contrasting against the white of his skin - skin that has rarely seen the sun these days. He thinks he can see a kind of pattern there, among the dripping fluid - so vividly red, God - and silvered scars.
Then he hears the bathroom door open, footsteps crossing the white marble tiles now stained red. A hand flings the bloodied knife away, and he struggles against the warm arms holding him tightly, whispering sweet nothings - nothings - into his ear.
Ruki please don't do this again I love you please oh please...
He fights against Reita, smearing the white shirt blood-red and the cuts begin to sting but he wants to get the fuck away from Reita now. Who is he to destroy the horrifically lovely art he has just created on the canvas of his skin?
Ruki baby everything is going to be okay, believe me.
No, no they will not you filthy fucking hypocrite, he thinks, and breathes in that sickly sweet scent of smoke and cologne he both detests and craves.
Against his protests Reita picks him up and carries him off to the bedroom, stripping him of his now-stained-red white shirt, and getting gauze and bandages. He is too exhausted to fight now, and lets Reita do the work of cleaning him up.
He barely notices the sting of the alcohol-soaked cotton dabbing at the cuts, but still he cannot help but think of how his blood is still flowing underneath his skin, his red red heart beating ever faster.
Why are you doing this, Ruki?
He says nothing, his face easily remaining expressionless. He spares his now-bandaged arm a glance, and lets a tiny smirk slip through at the blood seeping through the white material, not as lovely as it had been but still enticing.
Ruki honey won't you look at me?
So he does, meeting concerned brown eyes and still says nothing. A lie, only a fucking lie and then Reita is stroking his face, his hair, frowning, and the muscles in his body tense up. He stares at Reita's too-close lips, dusky pink against his pale jaw, and then those lips meet his own in a desperate kiss.
Ruki cannot help but kiss back, drowning in the taste of Reita's warm, bittersweet lips. He doesn't want this, and yet how he craves it and he arches up into Reita's touch. He can see no end in sight, no end to this sick charade. But then again nothing is certain and maybe - just maybe - he can find a way out.
-
When Reita comes back from his bath a couple of hours later, he freezes at the door at the sight of Ruki, lying motionless on the bed. A knife is in one hand, while cuts decorate the other arm.
Ruki's blood paints his body and bed the red he loves so much.
Author: silveryxdark @ arcoireis
Chapters: 1/1
Pairings: Reita x Ruki
Genre: Angst, horror
Rating: PG-15/R
Warnings: Blood, self-harm & suicide.
Disclaimer: Boys are not mine and never will be. ;_;
Summary: They paint a beautiful, grotesque picture, contrasting against the white of his skin - skin that has rarely seen the sun these days. He thinks he can see a kind of pattern there, among the dripping fluid - so vividly red, God - and silvered scars.
A/N: Inspired by the lyrics of RED (however unofficial). I'm not sure I've written anything like this before, so well, constructive criticism is very much welcome ^.^
His heart goes badump badump badump against the confines of his ribcage, pumping blood - crimson red blood - through his arteries, his veins. The blade kisses his white skin - again and again - and through the crisscrossing cuts leaks the red, red blood he loves and hates so much.
They paint a beautiful, grotesque picture, contrasting against the white of his skin - skin that has rarely seen the sun these days. He thinks he can see a kind of pattern there, among the dripping fluid - so vividly red, God - and silvered scars.
Then he hears the bathroom door open, footsteps crossing the white marble tiles now stained red. A hand flings the bloodied knife away, and he struggles against the warm arms holding him tightly, whispering sweet nothings - nothings - into his ear.
Ruki please don't do this again I love you please oh please...
He fights against Reita, smearing the white shirt blood-red and the cuts begin to sting but he wants to get the fuck away from Reita now. Who is he to destroy the horrifically lovely art he has just created on the canvas of his skin?
Ruki baby everything is going to be okay, believe me.
No, no they will not you filthy fucking hypocrite, he thinks, and breathes in that sickly sweet scent of smoke and cologne he both detests and craves.
Against his protests Reita picks him up and carries him off to the bedroom, stripping him of his now-stained-red white shirt, and getting gauze and bandages. He is too exhausted to fight now, and lets Reita do the work of cleaning him up.
He barely notices the sting of the alcohol-soaked cotton dabbing at the cuts, but still he cannot help but think of how his blood is still flowing underneath his skin, his red red heart beating ever faster.
Why are you doing this, Ruki?
He says nothing, his face easily remaining expressionless. He spares his now-bandaged arm a glance, and lets a tiny smirk slip through at the blood seeping through the white material, not as lovely as it had been but still enticing.
Ruki honey won't you look at me?
So he does, meeting concerned brown eyes and still says nothing. A lie, only a fucking lie and then Reita is stroking his face, his hair, frowning, and the muscles in his body tense up. He stares at Reita's too-close lips, dusky pink against his pale jaw, and then those lips meet his own in a desperate kiss.
Ruki cannot help but kiss back, drowning in the taste of Reita's warm, bittersweet lips. He doesn't want this, and yet how he craves it and he arches up into Reita's touch. He can see no end in sight, no end to this sick charade. But then again nothing is certain and maybe - just maybe - he can find a way out.
-
When Reita comes back from his bath a couple of hours later, he freezes at the door at the sight of Ruki, lying motionless on the bed. A knife is in one hand, while cuts decorate the other arm.
Ruki's blood paints his body and bed the red he loves so much.