En Själ Djup Och Sorgsna Farväl
((A Soul Deep and Sorrowful Farewell))
The ride to the airport early the morning of the 26th was subdued and Eino and Tino left Berwald to his withdrawn contemplation. They knew today was going to be very difficult and he was getting to an inner place of strength to carry out what was long overdue.
The Flight itself was just under 55 minutes and ( Read more... )
The ride to the airport early the morning of the 26th was subdued and Eino and Tino left Berwald to his withdrawn contemplation. They knew today was going to be very difficult and he was getting to an inner place of strength to carry out what was long overdue.
The Flight itself was just under 55 minutes and ( Read more... )
"Why don't you lay down and change out of those slacks and get more comfortable? I'll pour your coffee, I know how you like it." He reassured, pulling on Berwald's sleeves and trying to drag him away from the counter.
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By the time Berwald finished appeasing Tino his coffee was finished and he accepted the cup from Tino and downed the cup in a few painful gulps. It burned on the way down, too bad it wasn't stronger or more.
He paced the room as he drank the second and final cup (the pot only made two cups at a time), he was still angry and hurt and full of excess... SOMETHING.
He couldn't put his finger on just WHAT he was feeling, but it was RAW, it was something almost PRIMAL. He felt probably like the BULL in a rodeo, all caged up and anxious, WAITING for SOMETHING to explode, that gate to be opened so he could buck that fucking COWBOY on his BACK OFF and then GORE him to pieces.
He had no outlet for this feeling, he couldn't even NAME it, it hovered around anger and fury in one breath and in the next he wanted to put his fist through a wall to expend some of that anxious energy.
Then he got a whiff of Tino's shampoo as he paced by for the tenth or twentieth time and he had a name for THAT emotion, that inner animal inside LOVED that scent, Tino's smell. Pear and Ginger Shampoo, mixed with something purely TINO. Berwald knew THAT spark inside, that was his LUST. The secret part inside him that loved to Rut like a pig in the mud and MARK that TERRITORY as *MINE*.
He fought against that too and paced away again. Hungry, Angry, Hurt, Vulnerable, Conflicted, Raw, Hated, Loved, In Love, Lust, Need, anxiety, fear, every emotion took turns to torment him as he paced a hole in the rug, his mug empty LONG empty.
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"Come on, I'll give you some kisses if you come lay down." He bargained, after wiggling out of his shirt and sweater and into his Moomin t-shirt.
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Then he ordered Berwald to stop pacing and as always, Berwald did whatever Tino wanted.
It was hard to will his body to sit still, he had far too much pent up energy to work out of his system. Too many things to STOP FEELING and bury.
He looked like a caged bear as he sat down on the edge of the bed to watch Tino change clothes. His leg bouncing unconsciously, channeling that energy into release. He was ramrod straight on the edge of the bed, every muscle tense and coiled like a spring.
That SOMETHING was a brewing storm, trying to find a release for the tempest.
But Tino wanted Berwald to stop pacing, to sit down, so Berwald attempted compliance.
Tino walked past again and the breeze of his passing wafted over that scent again.
"You smell good." Berwald commented. At least it wasn't another apology. He was trying, he just wasn't very good at processing a myriad of emotions simultaneously.
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"Only decafe for you for the rest of the night." He added, firmly planting a hand down on Berwald's bouncing knee, trying to still it. He then continued kissing his very pent up jotunn.
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It was becoming a HUNGER and NEED he wanted to just throw Tino down and REALLY PILLAGE that village until this LUST was satisfied.
"Ti... you are playing with a fire right now that may be dangerous. I don't trust myself right now." Berwald admitted truthfully trying not to be consumed by emotions he knew were volatile at the moment.
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Tino was rapidly obliterating Berwald's capacity for conscious thought and he was lighting a fire that was beyond anything Berwald had experienced before. It was RAW and PRIMAL. Berwald almost painfully returned Tino's kisses as his hand snaked into Tino's hair and gripped the back of Tino's neck in a firm, almost bruising grip.
This passion was fueled by massive levels of testosterone and hormones released during his emotional battle that morning, just like a soldier after a life and death battle would crave sex, the same adrenaline and hormones were raging in Berwald now.
Tino was adding kerosene to that fire with every movement he made. Berwald wasn't going to last, his lust was consuming him.
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He reaching into the bag and produced the bottle, one of their very best friends. He'd never done it himself before, but he had no apprehensions, his main focus was Berwald. He didn't understand why seeing Berwald with a broken heart made him want to make it better in such a primal and base way. Was this maybe selfish of him? Maybe he should be more considerate of Berwald's FEELINGS? But those thoughts were quickly dispelled at the feeling of Berwald reacting to his ministrations under his hips. Maybe Berwald needed this? A good, breathless distraction.
Content with his self preparation he panted slightly, hovering over Berwald's lap. "Hips... hands on my... hips." He pleaded, he needed the help remaining stable as he positioned himself.
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There was a guttural and savage moan that came from somewhere in Berwald's belly and lodged itself like a roar in the back of his throat. He was NOT the vocal one in this pair, but something was base and animalistic this time.
This was sex, pure, unadulterated, down and dirty, get sweaty and leave MARKS kind of sex.
Berwald slammed his hips upward as Tino came down, his massive hands digging into Tino's flesh, his throat GROWLING, his teeth flashing as his lip curled in a satisfied sneer.
Tino's name was almost spat like a curse or a prayer to an ancient pagan god of fertility, it was impossible to tell as Berwald let the fire Tino had started utterly CONSUME HIM completely.
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He dug his fingers into his fiance's shoulders, wailing as his name was used in such a base way. His hips being clawed into by the bear paws of his fiance. He wailed Berwald's name, louder and more fierce than any time before.
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He roughly sat up and rolled Tino on to his back on the bed, still intimately connected together as Berwald kissed and bit and DEVOURED his lover.
He needed Tino desperately, to own him, to possess him, to conquer him, to MARK him as Berwald's conquest.
They violently crashed together, names gasped and cried, moaned and shouted. Fingernails scratched, teeth drew drops of blood, fingers left bruises, tongues battled and bodies writhed.
This was the most intense, most wild, most abandoned to passion they had ever become with each other. It was a purging of hate and anger and pain and transforming all the worst emotions one could feel into something powerful and magical.
"Mine. MINE!" Berwald ground out possessively as he bit and sucked at Tino's neck as he ground him almost mercilessly into the sheets.
Tino's fingertips were covered in blood from Berwald's back and it was smearing across skin as the line where one body began the the other ended blurred into just one undulating beat... driving the tempest to peak in once astounding synchronized crescendo of ultimate, shuddering, painful and soul purifying release.
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Berwald felt ashamed he'd lost control like that when the "Ow" slipped passed Tino's unguarded lips.
"How bad Ow?" Berwald asked cringing when he looked at his paw prints and bruises he'd left peppered on Tino's body. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." Berwald apologized almost afraid to touch Tino now, since he was pretty sure he may have really injured Tino somehow.
Berwald hobbled over to the bathroom and came back with a cool washcloth to gingerly dab at bits he was sure he was never going to be allowed to touch or even get NEAR to ever again.
What was he? Some DOG in HEAT? What the hell had possessed him to treat Tino like some cheap and tawdry whore?
How did he feel? He felt like a complete and utter ASSHOLE at the moment. "I'm so sorry." Berwald said quietly, trying to clean up the mess he'd made of the one person he had never wanted to ever hurt.
Now he had and he just wanted to run out in traffic frankly.
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"What are you sorry for? I ripped you up." He said, finding enough strength to get one of his little mitts up to caress the claw marks dashed across Berwald's chest. "If you're sorry that I hurt, fuck off, it felt so good to be on equal terms with you. It's not horrible to be treated like glass, but sometimes it feels so good to be thrown around and pummeled into the mattress like all you care about is feeling good, not being careful. Reckless abandon is hot." He purred, but his eyes stayed closed as the cold cloth wiped down his soiled, tenderized and bloodied body.
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This wasn't just a little manhandling, this bordered on abuse to Berwald's sensibilities.
"I don't mean to treat you like glass Ti. I don't. It's just... you're my... everything. You're all I have in this world, especially now. This was too much, I went too far. I can't bear hurting you." Berwald replied. Getting up to walk back into the bathroom, this time he shut the door, pressed his face against the cold tile of the wall and fought the tears that wanted to fall yet again. He had to get his damn emotions under control!
How did he always manage to screw everything up? Take everything one step too far? This time a million steps too far. Tino liked it NOW... However, in an hour? He was going to really be in pain!
Berwald turned the water on in the sink to hide the sound of him fighting his fragile state of mind. For probably the fiftieth time that morning. God he hated himself at the moment.
He couldn't let Tino see this, he'd just worry more. He couldn't look at the welts and the bruises on Tino's skin, the first Time he went into the Sauna tomorrow Mummi was going to get out her gun and pop him right between the eyes.
He'd load the gun for her.
It was no wonder Bergren hated him... he hated himself just as much currently.
He was so confused, so LOST, so frightened. He looked up to see the blood all over him. His chest and back were covered in long gouges and scratches.
He deserved every single one of them, and if he had salt handy, he'd start rubbing it in the wounds. He deserved that too.
The emotional roller coaster he was on was manifesting as hypertension now, he couldn't catch his breath, his hands were shaking, he was having one doozy of a panic attack. All the things he had been trying to suppress for days, months and in some cases YEARS began breaking apart.
He was gasping for air as he bent over the sink and he clutched his chest in pain as he tried to get air into constricted lungs.
The world was closing in on him and the last thing he saw was the tile counter meeting his face as he hyperventilated himself right into passing out cold and falling onto the bathroom floor.
No, Berwald was having one HELL of a bad day no matter how you looked at it and he was not 30... despite how he normally comported himself, he was still 18 in many, many ways. Emotionally he was a very lost young man, trying to tread water in the sea that was churning all around him.
He bottled up emotions until they burst free and consumed him in a tidal wave. He had made progress, but even the most stable of men would have been hard pressed to stay sane faced with the Day Berwald had been faced with and the clock had only just clicked over to NOON.
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