Red
Title: Red
Author: vulgar_vogue
Length: one shot
Fandom: Angelo
Pairing: Kirito/Kohta (incest)
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU
Disclaimer/Claimer: I do not own Kirito or Kohta. This is pure fiction so the events in this never occured in real life. I am also not making money from this.
Summary: Kirito and Kohta have a plan to follow but at the last minute they start having second thoughts.
Notes:It's been a while since I wrote something so this is really just to get back into the habbit of writing. Originally this was going to be submitted at last_pleasure but I've changed my mind. ^///^
“Kohta,” Kirito moaned as he felt the man on top of him speed up his pace. Kirito grunted. His whole body felt like it was on fire. He was sweaty and his body was sticking to the bed sheets below. The opened window did nothing to cool him down. He looked up at his lover from between the strains of hair sticking to his face.
Kohta’s eyes were open and looking down at his lover. His mouth was open as he panted but it quickly turned into a grin as he noticed the other man looking up at him. The grin soon turned back into a groan as he quickened his pace again.
Kirito let out a moan and arched up from the bed while his hands took hold of the bed sheets, gripping them tightly. It would not take long. “Kohta!” Kirito screamed as he felt his orgasm reach its peak. He came between their bodies. Kohta felt his own release drawing near. He pulled out of Kirito and, taking hold of himself, stroked his cock until he came on his lover’s body.
It is another one of those nights, Kirito thought as he came down from his orgasm. He closed his eyes as Kohta cleaned them both off, and soon found himself drifting off to sleep.
***
Music? Kirito could have sworn that he heard someone playing music. What a chilling melody. He felt his eyelids slowly flutter open as he came out of his sleep. Kirito slowly lifted his body up and turned around. There were two things that he noticed right away. The first thing was that the music was still playing. The second thing that he noticed was that Kohta was not in bed with him but instead he was sitting by the window with a bass on his lap.
Kirito yawned. Kohta stopped playing. Neither man spoke but there was something in the silent air between them, something uneasy. “Come to bed,” Kirito said. “You need to get some sleep.” Kohta did not answer, instead he returned to plucking the strings of the bass. Kirito tilted his head to the side. When Kohta continued to ignore him he sighed and got out of bed. “What is your problem?” Kirito questioned as he made his way over to his lover.
Kirito leaned over the chair that his brother was sitting in. “Look,” Kohta said staring out the window.
Outside the sun was beginning to rise over the city bringing light with it. The buildings looked as if they were burning, as if they were on fire.
“Beautiful,” Kirito whispered wrapping his arms around Kohta and placing his head upon Kohta’s.
“Is it?” Kohta asked. Kirito blinked in confusion. He walked from behind the chair so that he was standing in front of the other man.
Kirito placed a hand on Kohta’s cheek. “Kohta?”
“Why?” Kohta gently placed the bass down besides the chair before getting up and walking over towards the window. He placed a palm on the glass. Kirito was silent, they both were silent a contradiction to the wakening city outside.
Kirito walked over and stood next to Kohta. He looked out at the city below. The people here never did sleep for long. They were always awake at the crack of dawn to begin a fresh day of the same thing that they did the day before, and that they will keep doing until the day they died.
“Why do we do this?” Kohta asked.
“You know why,” Kirito sighed. “Because,”
“It’s not right,” Kohta finished.
Kirito smirked. “Of course it’s not right.”
“Why?”
“Because...” Below them the streets started to fill with cars and the sidewalks started to fill with people. “If we don’t…”
“Is it so bad… if we don’t?”
Kirito was silent. He was beginning to question himself. They had fought for so long, they had stayed alive for so long but now…
“If we don’t do this then we will,” Kirito begun to speak but was cut off by Kohta.
“We will what?” Kohta shouted at him. “Do you want to leave that badly? Take a look at our lives. We are already gone, gone from the only people that ever loved us.”
“Stop it Kohta!” Kirito shouted. He grabbed hold of his brother’s shoulders and shook him. “You know what would have happened if they found out! They would have hated us.” Kirito let go of his brother and turned back to the window. “It’s better this way… this way they will not hate us.”
Both men were silent from then on, only breaking that silence when Kohta swiftly opened up the window. “He’s there.” That was all that Kirito needed to hear. He stopped wasting his time on questioning himself. He walked over towards the bed and kneeling down pulled out a suite case. “He just walked into the building,” Kohta said as he prepared the equipment.
When Kirito reappeared it was with a sniper rifle. “What room?”
Kohta looked over towards his brother one last time. There was a kind of dark look in his eye. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” One word, no second-guessing, and it was decided. It was time to leave.
“Fourteenth floor, third room from the right.”
“Got it,” Kirito smirked. He set up his gun and taking his time, making sure that everything was in check, he took aim. His gloved finger inched its way to the trigger. “Goodbye Mr. Prime Minister,” Kirito shot. “Dead,” He announced.
Kohta looked down. “Was it so bad if we did not do this Kirito?”
“Why are you still thinking about that now?” Kirito asked. “It’s done.”
“You want to leave that badly? You want to die that badly?” Kohta asked looking over at his brother. Kirito did not look at Kohta. “Would it have been so bad if we lived?” Kohta walked over and wrapped his arms around his brother.
“Thirty-two.”
Kohta could feel the tears building up in his eyes but he refused to cry. It seemed as if Kirito had his mind set on one thing. “Let’s go,” Kohta sighed. “You know I cannot live without you, Shinya.”
The sound of sirens could be heard. The streets were filled with police cars. It was all over the news; the news of the Prime Minister’s death was everywhere but the assassinates were nowhere. Every police officer and special agent was looking for the man who shot the Prime Minister but they could look all they wanted, they would never find him because by that time…
“We painted the city red today,” Kohta whispered.
“Are we artists now?” Kirito teased a bit out of breath from running up thirty-two flights of stairs.
“Did you take care of the bed sheets?”
“Burned and buried,” Kirito answered.
“Then…”
“There is no turning back now,” Kirito said. Kohta sighed. “I am not leaving you. We will be together again soon.”
“They say that people are reincarnated, and that lovers are sometimes reincarnated as twins,” Kohta said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Will this continue forever? Are we doomed to the same fate?”
“Fate does not exist,” Kirito said coldly silencing the two of them.
“Look,” Kohta whispered after some time as they watched the setting sun. “The city is on fire.”
***
All the police found that day were two teenage boys, or what was left of them at least. Their bodies were smashed from the impact of the fall so that no one could tell who they were on first glace, and neither man had identification on them. Some suspected that they were the assassinates, but there was no proof linking them to the killing. In the end the boys were identified as two brothers who killed themselves.
“They must have been so devastated by their father’s death that they just…” The woman whispered to her friend.
“Be quiet,” The other woman whispered back. “Their mother and The Prime Minister’s wife is right over there. She might hear you.”
The two formal dressed women quietly bowed to the silently crying woman sitting on the bench before walking away. She was alone now, left to herself to cry over the death of her children and the man that she had married.
The squeaking of shoes could be heard. They got louder as the person walked down the hallway stopping only when they got to her. The person took a seat on the bench. “You need new shoes Ken,” She said. His response was to put an arm around her and draw her closer to him. She began to sob harder as she leaned against his chest and gripped the piece of paper that she was holding tighter.
In Kirito’s hand writing the word “Freedom” could be read. It was such a simple word, and if anyone but her had read it they would have thought something different or pass it off as nothing. She knew what it meant though.
“Freedom,” She whispered between sobs.
Author: vulgar_vogue
Length: one shot
Fandom: Angelo
Pairing: Kirito/Kohta (incest)
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU
Disclaimer/Claimer: I do not own Kirito or Kohta. This is pure fiction so the events in this never occured in real life. I am also not making money from this.
Summary: Kirito and Kohta have a plan to follow but at the last minute they start having second thoughts.
Notes:It's been a while since I wrote something so this is really just to get back into the habbit of writing. Originally this was going to be submitted at last_pleasure but I've changed my mind. ^///^
“Kohta,” Kirito moaned as he felt the man on top of him speed up his pace. Kirito grunted. His whole body felt like it was on fire. He was sweaty and his body was sticking to the bed sheets below. The opened window did nothing to cool him down. He looked up at his lover from between the strains of hair sticking to his face.
Kohta’s eyes were open and looking down at his lover. His mouth was open as he panted but it quickly turned into a grin as he noticed the other man looking up at him. The grin soon turned back into a groan as he quickened his pace again.
Kirito let out a moan and arched up from the bed while his hands took hold of the bed sheets, gripping them tightly. It would not take long. “Kohta!” Kirito screamed as he felt his orgasm reach its peak. He came between their bodies. Kohta felt his own release drawing near. He pulled out of Kirito and, taking hold of himself, stroked his cock until he came on his lover’s body.
It is another one of those nights, Kirito thought as he came down from his orgasm. He closed his eyes as Kohta cleaned them both off, and soon found himself drifting off to sleep.
***
Music? Kirito could have sworn that he heard someone playing music. What a chilling melody. He felt his eyelids slowly flutter open as he came out of his sleep. Kirito slowly lifted his body up and turned around. There were two things that he noticed right away. The first thing was that the music was still playing. The second thing that he noticed was that Kohta was not in bed with him but instead he was sitting by the window with a bass on his lap.
Kirito yawned. Kohta stopped playing. Neither man spoke but there was something in the silent air between them, something uneasy. “Come to bed,” Kirito said. “You need to get some sleep.” Kohta did not answer, instead he returned to plucking the strings of the bass. Kirito tilted his head to the side. When Kohta continued to ignore him he sighed and got out of bed. “What is your problem?” Kirito questioned as he made his way over to his lover.
Kirito leaned over the chair that his brother was sitting in. “Look,” Kohta said staring out the window.
Outside the sun was beginning to rise over the city bringing light with it. The buildings looked as if they were burning, as if they were on fire.
“Beautiful,” Kirito whispered wrapping his arms around Kohta and placing his head upon Kohta’s.
“Is it?” Kohta asked. Kirito blinked in confusion. He walked from behind the chair so that he was standing in front of the other man.
Kirito placed a hand on Kohta’s cheek. “Kohta?”
“Why?” Kohta gently placed the bass down besides the chair before getting up and walking over towards the window. He placed a palm on the glass. Kirito was silent, they both were silent a contradiction to the wakening city outside.
Kirito walked over and stood next to Kohta. He looked out at the city below. The people here never did sleep for long. They were always awake at the crack of dawn to begin a fresh day of the same thing that they did the day before, and that they will keep doing until the day they died.
“Why do we do this?” Kohta asked.
“You know why,” Kirito sighed. “Because,”
“It’s not right,” Kohta finished.
Kirito smirked. “Of course it’s not right.”
“Why?”
“Because...” Below them the streets started to fill with cars and the sidewalks started to fill with people. “If we don’t…”
“Is it so bad… if we don’t?”
Kirito was silent. He was beginning to question himself. They had fought for so long, they had stayed alive for so long but now…
“If we don’t do this then we will,” Kirito begun to speak but was cut off by Kohta.
“We will what?” Kohta shouted at him. “Do you want to leave that badly? Take a look at our lives. We are already gone, gone from the only people that ever loved us.”
“Stop it Kohta!” Kirito shouted. He grabbed hold of his brother’s shoulders and shook him. “You know what would have happened if they found out! They would have hated us.” Kirito let go of his brother and turned back to the window. “It’s better this way… this way they will not hate us.”
Both men were silent from then on, only breaking that silence when Kohta swiftly opened up the window. “He’s there.” That was all that Kirito needed to hear. He stopped wasting his time on questioning himself. He walked over towards the bed and kneeling down pulled out a suite case. “He just walked into the building,” Kohta said as he prepared the equipment.
When Kirito reappeared it was with a sniper rifle. “What room?”
Kohta looked over towards his brother one last time. There was a kind of dark look in his eye. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” One word, no second-guessing, and it was decided. It was time to leave.
“Fourteenth floor, third room from the right.”
“Got it,” Kirito smirked. He set up his gun and taking his time, making sure that everything was in check, he took aim. His gloved finger inched its way to the trigger. “Goodbye Mr. Prime Minister,” Kirito shot. “Dead,” He announced.
Kohta looked down. “Was it so bad if we did not do this Kirito?”
“Why are you still thinking about that now?” Kirito asked. “It’s done.”
“You want to leave that badly? You want to die that badly?” Kohta asked looking over at his brother. Kirito did not look at Kohta. “Would it have been so bad if we lived?” Kohta walked over and wrapped his arms around his brother.
“Thirty-two.”
Kohta could feel the tears building up in his eyes but he refused to cry. It seemed as if Kirito had his mind set on one thing. “Let’s go,” Kohta sighed. “You know I cannot live without you, Shinya.”
The sound of sirens could be heard. The streets were filled with police cars. It was all over the news; the news of the Prime Minister’s death was everywhere but the assassinates were nowhere. Every police officer and special agent was looking for the man who shot the Prime Minister but they could look all they wanted, they would never find him because by that time…
“We painted the city red today,” Kohta whispered.
“Are we artists now?” Kirito teased a bit out of breath from running up thirty-two flights of stairs.
“Did you take care of the bed sheets?”
“Burned and buried,” Kirito answered.
“Then…”
“There is no turning back now,” Kirito said. Kohta sighed. “I am not leaving you. We will be together again soon.”
“They say that people are reincarnated, and that lovers are sometimes reincarnated as twins,” Kohta said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Will this continue forever? Are we doomed to the same fate?”
“Fate does not exist,” Kirito said coldly silencing the two of them.
“Look,” Kohta whispered after some time as they watched the setting sun. “The city is on fire.”
***
All the police found that day were two teenage boys, or what was left of them at least. Their bodies were smashed from the impact of the fall so that no one could tell who they were on first glace, and neither man had identification on them. Some suspected that they were the assassinates, but there was no proof linking them to the killing. In the end the boys were identified as two brothers who killed themselves.
“They must have been so devastated by their father’s death that they just…” The woman whispered to her friend.
“Be quiet,” The other woman whispered back. “Their mother and The Prime Minister’s wife is right over there. She might hear you.”
The two formal dressed women quietly bowed to the silently crying woman sitting on the bench before walking away. She was alone now, left to herself to cry over the death of her children and the man that she had married.
The squeaking of shoes could be heard. They got louder as the person walked down the hallway stopping only when they got to her. The person took a seat on the bench. “You need new shoes Ken,” She said. His response was to put an arm around her and draw her closer to him. She began to sob harder as she leaned against his chest and gripped the piece of paper that she was holding tighter.
In Kirito’s hand writing the word “Freedom” could be read. It was such a simple word, and if anyone but her had read it they would have thought something different or pass it off as nothing. She knew what it meant though.
“Freedom,” She whispered between sobs.