Without the Innocence (Tales of the Abyss, Asch/Luke, NC-17) 1/1
Title: Without the Innocence
Author: Spinny Roses
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Yaoi (Asch/Luke)
Spoilers: Tower of Rem
Disclaimer: Don't own. Title and lyric snippet from "Bless the Child" by Nightwish
Summary: Who the partner happened to be was unimportant - the pounding in their chest and feel of heated flesh against molten skin was the key.
Without the Innocence
By Spinny Roses
Remember my child, without the innocence the cross is only iron
Hope is only an illusion, and Ocean's Soul's nothing but a name
The child? Bless thee and keep thee forever
It could've possible to chalk it up to how close he came to death. The shaking hands of the dreck and needy, sloppy kisses proved that without a doubt. The way both of them stripped their mirror of unneeded clothing could easily be explained as a need to prove they were still alive. Who the partner happened to be was unimportant - the pounding in their chest and feel of heated flesh against molten skin was the key.
There were very little words spoken through pleased sighs and pained grunts. Red hair, crimson blood... it mixed and blurred until the lines were no longer visible. The replica squirmed as his original harshly prepped him, his pleasure an afterthought to the whole process. Slick skin slid across the floor - the bed seemed only to be a holder for their clothing - and bolted upward as the original Luke took the last bit of virginity with spiteful vigor.
He didn't wait for his replica to get used to the feeling, but rather started thrusting as fast as he could. The dreck's hand crept towards his own groin, and while he smirked at this he let his successor grope and jerk himself off as the original focused on his own pleasure. They continued like this, locked in an animalistic rite. One pale hand grabbed short red hair, yanking the attached head back at an almost uncomfortable angle.
Somehow, despite the rough treatment and awkward positioning, the replica shuddered and moaned, each sound laced with pleasure. His hand moved with blurring speed, coaxing out a loud groaning climax. The clenching caught the original by surprise, following his replica quickly and violently.
Both of them laid there for a few minutes, minds resting comfortably in the aftermath. Asch soon broke the quiet rest, pushing off the younger Luke with a grunt. He reached down for his pants, surprised when numbed fingers wrapped around his wrist. "What do you think you're doing?" was the rough response.
"Why are you leaving?" Luke asked quietly, tugging at the wrist caught in his grasp. "Stay."
The original scoffed, yanking his arm free. "Why should I stay? It was just sex."
Luke blinked, sitting up. "It was sex... shouldn't you stay a little longer? I mean-"
"You're overthinking it, dreck." Asch pulled on his clothing, not looking at the innocent sadness on Luke's face. "It meant nothing."
"But, Asch..."
"Shut up." He was angry. That was why his hands shook at the hurt tone in his replica's voice. That's why he refused to stop and finish dressing, to try and not see the purity crumple into common realization.
It was why it hurt to hear someone believe that was more than a physical release.
Author: Spinny Roses
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Yaoi (Asch/Luke)
Spoilers: Tower of Rem
Disclaimer: Don't own. Title and lyric snippet from "Bless the Child" by Nightwish
Summary: Who the partner happened to be was unimportant - the pounding in their chest and feel of heated flesh against molten skin was the key.
Without the Innocence
By Spinny Roses
Remember my child, without the innocence the cross is only iron
Hope is only an illusion, and Ocean's Soul's nothing but a name
The child? Bless thee and keep thee forever
It could've possible to chalk it up to how close he came to death. The shaking hands of the dreck and needy, sloppy kisses proved that without a doubt. The way both of them stripped their mirror of unneeded clothing could easily be explained as a need to prove they were still alive. Who the partner happened to be was unimportant - the pounding in their chest and feel of heated flesh against molten skin was the key.
There were very little words spoken through pleased sighs and pained grunts. Red hair, crimson blood... it mixed and blurred until the lines were no longer visible. The replica squirmed as his original harshly prepped him, his pleasure an afterthought to the whole process. Slick skin slid across the floor - the bed seemed only to be a holder for their clothing - and bolted upward as the original Luke took the last bit of virginity with spiteful vigor.
He didn't wait for his replica to get used to the feeling, but rather started thrusting as fast as he could. The dreck's hand crept towards his own groin, and while he smirked at this he let his successor grope and jerk himself off as the original focused on his own pleasure. They continued like this, locked in an animalistic rite. One pale hand grabbed short red hair, yanking the attached head back at an almost uncomfortable angle.
Somehow, despite the rough treatment and awkward positioning, the replica shuddered and moaned, each sound laced with pleasure. His hand moved with blurring speed, coaxing out a loud groaning climax. The clenching caught the original by surprise, following his replica quickly and violently.
Both of them laid there for a few minutes, minds resting comfortably in the aftermath. Asch soon broke the quiet rest, pushing off the younger Luke with a grunt. He reached down for his pants, surprised when numbed fingers wrapped around his wrist. "What do you think you're doing?" was the rough response.
"Why are you leaving?" Luke asked quietly, tugging at the wrist caught in his grasp. "Stay."
The original scoffed, yanking his arm free. "Why should I stay? It was just sex."
Luke blinked, sitting up. "It was sex... shouldn't you stay a little longer? I mean-"
"You're overthinking it, dreck." Asch pulled on his clothing, not looking at the innocent sadness on Luke's face. "It meant nothing."
"But, Asch..."
"Shut up." He was angry. That was why his hands shook at the hurt tone in his replica's voice. That's why he refused to stop and finish dressing, to try and not see the purity crumple into common realization.
It was why it hurt to hear someone believe that was more than a physical release.