giftsofglory | Breaking point

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Breaking point

Mello had tried his patience on many levels since he'd acquired him. He'd bit, kicked, punched, clawed,and every other means of vicious attack he could try in the time he'd had him. None of that had really bothered him. Hurt, yes, but aside from the lone groin shot it had never made him angry.

Having his warnings ignored, however, did. He'd been very kind to the man on this day. He'd coddled him, let him roam loose on the grounds, and even let him attack and play without much int he way of retaliation. However, there was a point when enough was enough and he was still a healthy male in his prime.

He'd been trying to control himself because he didn't want to break his pet, but his pet insisted on doing something deliberately after finding out it was arousing? No.

That was an invitation.

Thus, that led to this, him bringing him into a room he hadn't intended to use for a few weeks yet, if that soon, and him flipping the man off his shoulders to press him down, belly down, on a soft, padded mattress. There were other things in the room, but they were nicely closeted away. No, first he'd make the man feel him, then he'd move on to -training- him.

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Mello leaned back against him without thinking about it. His thoughts kept fluttering around, first one thing and then another. He wanted to push Sephiroth away and cling to him all at once, wanted to melt away and stop and make everything disappear. Instead, he settled for being washed, closing his eyes and imagining someone else's hands, some lover he'd never had and never would. It was easier pretending, gave him something to do.

When he finished with his body, he moved onto his hair, actions never ceasing to be gentle, and he didn't push him away.

The hands in his hair felt a lot nicer than when they were scrubbing his body, perhaps because he found the action less invasive and more comforting. Mello leaned his head forward slightly, relaxing.

He took his time, rinsing his hair out when he was done and just cradling the blond against him, seeing if he'd become restless.

He barely moved, despite having felt as though he needed to do something when he was trapped on the bed. He didn't feel like he could anymore, not at the moment. But the silence became oppressive soon enough. "Say... something," he whispered. He was sick of silence. He wanted voices that were real, not something imagined to pretend to break past the quiet.

"I thought you were tired of listening to me talk Mello." His tone was soft, and he pressed kisses along his jaw. "What did you want to hear?"

"I don't know." He bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth harshly. "I don't know. I don't know."

"Shhh shh it's okay." He moved a hand to gently disengage the lip from between his teeth. "Why don't you tell me things you like mmm? If you tell me, I'll tell you."

He panted softly, parting his lips when Sephiroth forced his mouth open, but it stayed that way.

"I like... chocolate. And... hot cocoa." Bit repetitive, but hey.

"Chocolate." It was a murmur, contemplative. "I like swords." His words were gentle and he nuzzled behind his ear. "Eventually, I intend to show you them."

"I like guns," he muttered, unresponsive to the nuzzling, but not in the way he had been weeks ago when he'd still been capable of forcing himself to ignore everything. He'd done it for so long that it was the automatic response now-- or lack thereof. He felt things, but they didn't matter.

He nodded slightly. "I am very fond of oranges as well." He pressed kisses down his neck and along his shoulder.

"...strawberries are okay. And--" He cut off to think. "Driving. Very fast. Motorcycles so I can feel the speed." A vague smile appeared on his lips as he drifted into a fantasy of the open road.

"I like Motorcycles as well." He ran his fingers down his belly, grazing teeth along his shoulder. It was something he'd never done before. "In fact, I have a very specialized one that I had built for me. When I know you'll stay a good boy for me, I'll take you for a ride."

It was still easy to ignore, almost imperceptible as long as it was gentle. The words, however, caught his attention and he sat up slightly, suddenly more alert. "Let's go now." Strangely enough, he wasn't even thinking of escaping at the moment. All he was thinking of was the need to go outside and feel the wind.

He shook his head, nosing under his jaw. "No. You made me not able to trust you my detective, there will be no outside for you for a while unless you're -very- good."

He pulled away suddenly, raising his voice for the first time in days. "I am being good!" It was a frustrated yell, and he turned to give Sephiroth a long, wounded stare.

He soothed him at once, petting his sides and nuzzling his cheek. "Yes you are. And I'm rewarding you. Little rewards before big rewards my detective."

Mello tried to push him away, shaking his head defiantly, or maybe more in denial. "Another room then-- Don't leave me here again."

"Will you behave if I bring you out my detective? Will you do as I say?" He drew the blond so he was straddling his lap.

Finally giving up, Mello just leaned his head against Sephiroth's shoulder tiredly. "Yes," he answered, desperate. "Just... don't leave me here. I'm going crazy. I am. I hear voices and I can't tell what's real anymore and... Just don't." It was almost a sob.

He ran his hands up and down his back, nosing against his temple. "You understand why I needed to do this,don't you my detective?"

"Of course not. You're insane," Mello accused. He barely even meant anything by it anymore. He really didn't understand how he could possibly deserve this.

He kissed his lips softly again. "Until you understand why this was required, I can't give you the really big rewards, okay? It wouldn't be good for you." He smiled softly and pressed kisses over his face. "But you can come eat breakfast in the kitchen with me."

Mello was certain he would never truly 'understand' but he didn't say anything. It wouldn't be good for him? Mello wanted to scoff. None of this was good for him. Sephiroth wasn't good for him.

But he'd said that enough and the next sentence was more important anyway. Mello lifted his head without responding to the kiss. "Yes," he responded immediately, even if it hadn't been a question. He meant he wanted to. Very badly.

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