"Lies" - Edgar x Bak, Experimental Drabble
...Okay. Seriously, I do not know where this came from. Nor do I particularly like it. Much. But that's always what happens when I write in an experimental (for me) style, so I suppose I really shouldn't be surprised. But eh. Astoundingly, I managed to write this start to finish in just a few hours--considering how horribly easily distracted I am, that's impressive. Trust me. Especially considering I'd just thought one little word--"lies"--and then the idea flooded me. Even if it still somehow managed to turn out differently than I'd planned. Once again, the story writes itself.
But I digress. Enjoy? Maybe?
And yes, it's vague on purpose. Soba-points for whomever manages to figure out what the Hell I'm getting at with that last scene. It shouldn't be too difficult, I hope.
Title: Lies
Author: panda-pon
Pairing/Fandom: Edgar x Bak/D.Gray-Man
Wordcount: 702, apparently.
Summary: Their relationship was built on a foundation of lies, but it was all they had, and neither had any complaints.
Rating: T-16
Warnings: Incest, vague implications of...stuff, a male x male relationship, plot that jumps all over the place, slightly awkward time skips...okay, let's just say I didn't really know what the Hell I was doing here. But it wouldn't let me write it any other way.
Lies.
Some days, it seemed that was all their relationship was based upon. Others, it seemed it was based upon nothing at all. But either way, it was all they had--all they’d ever have. Nothing was solid. Nothing was guaranteed.
That had been established right from the start, and Bak knew it.
Sweet words, whispered in ears: did they ever really speak the truth?
Kisses pressed to bare skin: were they ever really meant for whom they were given?
But the answers to such questions had never been his to know. Not anyone’s. For wouldn’t that defeat the purpose; eliminate the surprise, the risk, the very allure that kept them from stopping?
They should, he knew they should. Even if neither of them wanted to. Even if neither of them would ever admit it out loud. It was wrong; a blasphemy punishable by death or worse, were the Vatican to ever catch wind of it (not that they ever would, if even his own mother was still in the dark). Never mind that they were both men--they were related by blood, and that was where the final line was drawn.
Or...it should have been. But it wasn’t, as the quills of their minds were never dipped in their respective ink, and as such, there was never any line to be crossed to begin with. Not that was tangible; that didn’t go unignored between the two of them.
Theirs was a relationship that was never meant to be breached, not like that. But they did it regardless. Physically, the genetics made no difference--but it was the mentality of what they did, that made it so perverse. And yet it was also what lead the addiction to come hand-in-hand.
Years had passed, and it had happened more and more frequently--until now, finally, it had become more-or-less of a ritual between them. A common practice that had somehow become so tightly woven into the treads of their lives, that neither could even be bothered to bat an eye at it any longer.
And Bak couldn’t say he felt guilty, not even when the topic of his mother came into conversation; it was hardly pillow-talk, but even so. Whatever did morals mean, when it felt this good?
But still, even now that it was ‘normal’, the lies kept coming. The same old words, the same whispers, same kisses...but sometimes with new ones mixed in between; unfamiliar, though always just as exciting.
Perhaps the most so, being when Edgar had asked him that question. The one that had sent his heart into a frenzy; pounding with the force of a thousand battle drums.
And he’d said he didn’t love him.
Another lie, just tossed into the pile with all the others--years’ worth of them; perhaps for later inspection, perhaps to be left forgotten, until the time came for them to be spoken again. One never knew.
More time; more words whispered, and more kisses given, although both knew at this point, that the lies were growing fewer. The words were starting to find meaning--undeniable meaning, even if unspoken. The kisses, too.
And then a day came, where it would all end. Not by any choice of their own, but at the hand of death: a hand that no one could avoid.
Massacre.
Slaughter.
Revenge--if you will.
But that wasn’t what mattered.
The only thing that mattered, when Bak knelt by the cold body, so much like his own--hours later, before they finally let him in to see---was that he’d never felt so alone in his life.
And maybe now, he could allow himself to feel a little guilty. Because she really never knew, and now, she never would.
But years later still, when it was his time to take up the position Twi had left behind, he found those answers; the ones he’d always-yet-never wanted to find, when he found a letter on his new desk--paper aged, and words (written in what he immediately recognized as Edgar’s hand) faded with time. When all was revealed to him, as it truly was.
There had only ever been but one lie.
And it had been his own.
But I digress. Enjoy? Maybe?
And yes, it's vague on purpose. Soba-points for whomever manages to figure out what the Hell I'm getting at with that last scene. It shouldn't be too difficult, I hope.
Title: Lies
Author: panda-pon
Pairing/Fandom: Edgar x Bak/D.Gray-Man
Wordcount: 702, apparently.
Summary: Their relationship was built on a foundation of lies, but it was all they had, and neither had any complaints.
Rating: T-16
Warnings: Incest, vague implications of...stuff, a male x male relationship, plot that jumps all over the place, slightly awkward time skips...okay, let's just say I didn't really know what the Hell I was doing here. But it wouldn't let me write it any other way.
Lies.
Some days, it seemed that was all their relationship was based upon. Others, it seemed it was based upon nothing at all. But either way, it was all they had--all they’d ever have. Nothing was solid. Nothing was guaranteed.
That had been established right from the start, and Bak knew it.
Sweet words, whispered in ears: did they ever really speak the truth?
Kisses pressed to bare skin: were they ever really meant for whom they were given?
But the answers to such questions had never been his to know. Not anyone’s. For wouldn’t that defeat the purpose; eliminate the surprise, the risk, the very allure that kept them from stopping?
They should, he knew they should. Even if neither of them wanted to. Even if neither of them would ever admit it out loud. It was wrong; a blasphemy punishable by death or worse, were the Vatican to ever catch wind of it (not that they ever would, if even his own mother was still in the dark). Never mind that they were both men--they were related by blood, and that was where the final line was drawn.
Or...it should have been. But it wasn’t, as the quills of their minds were never dipped in their respective ink, and as such, there was never any line to be crossed to begin with. Not that was tangible; that didn’t go unignored between the two of them.
Theirs was a relationship that was never meant to be breached, not like that. But they did it regardless. Physically, the genetics made no difference--but it was the mentality of what they did, that made it so perverse. And yet it was also what lead the addiction to come hand-in-hand.
Years had passed, and it had happened more and more frequently--until now, finally, it had become more-or-less of a ritual between them. A common practice that had somehow become so tightly woven into the treads of their lives, that neither could even be bothered to bat an eye at it any longer.
And Bak couldn’t say he felt guilty, not even when the topic of his mother came into conversation; it was hardly pillow-talk, but even so. Whatever did morals mean, when it felt this good?
But still, even now that it was ‘normal’, the lies kept coming. The same old words, the same whispers, same kisses...but sometimes with new ones mixed in between; unfamiliar, though always just as exciting.
Perhaps the most so, being when Edgar had asked him that question. The one that had sent his heart into a frenzy; pounding with the force of a thousand battle drums.
And he’d said he didn’t love him.
Another lie, just tossed into the pile with all the others--years’ worth of them; perhaps for later inspection, perhaps to be left forgotten, until the time came for them to be spoken again. One never knew.
More time; more words whispered, and more kisses given, although both knew at this point, that the lies were growing fewer. The words were starting to find meaning--undeniable meaning, even if unspoken. The kisses, too.
And then a day came, where it would all end. Not by any choice of their own, but at the hand of death: a hand that no one could avoid.
Massacre.
Slaughter.
Revenge--if you will.
But that wasn’t what mattered.
The only thing that mattered, when Bak knelt by the cold body, so much like his own--hours later, before they finally let him in to see---was that he’d never felt so alone in his life.
And maybe now, he could allow himself to feel a little guilty. Because she really never knew, and now, she never would.
But years later still, when it was his time to take up the position Twi had left behind, he found those answers; the ones he’d always-yet-never wanted to find, when he found a letter on his new desk--paper aged, and words (written in what he immediately recognized as Edgar’s hand) faded with time. When all was revealed to him, as it truly was.
There had only ever been but one lie.
And it had been his own.