giftsofglory | 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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He considered his words for a moment. "I respect you. Not like you want, no, but if I didn't have some respect for you I never would have wanted you." It was a murmur. "Though the rest seems rather apt, yes."

"That is not respect. It's coveting," Mello corrected firmly. And he knew he'd gotten the rest right. Despite the fact he often resorted to cursing and scratching, he was still extremely intelligent. And he was not the only one upset that Sephiroth was keeping him to himself. He wondered if there would be a search for him for a while, or if they would give up soon.

He wondered who 'they' were. His coworkers, possibly others from the police... But no one who really cared for him. He didn't think he had anyone like that left, and still, for some reason, he wanted to fight for his freedom.

"I've been more than once told that my affection is a greatly terrible thing. Apparently you agree." He kneaded his fingers down his back, over his upper thighs. "How would you kill me Mello, given your choice?"

"That depends on what you choose to do from now on," Mello growled softly, legs twitching away in discomfort at the touch he didn't want.

"If you go through with whatever reason you have chained me up here..." He paused, then looked over his shoulder at Sephiroth again.

"Do you know what the popular narrative of the English king Edward the Second's death is, Sephiroth?"

He was quiet for a moment. "No, I don't. It wasn't in my lessons."

"He was sodomized with a red-hot poker." Of course, that theory was actually very unlikely to be true, but it was the popular story. Guess people just enjoyed the more violent and perverse version.

He considered this for a moment, contemplative. "I approve." Clearly satisfied with whatever he'd been trying to learn, he resumed the light mapping of the blond's body.

"Messy. Painful," Mello mused quietly. "Agonizing, I'm sure." He was back to ignoring those hands for as long as he could.

"All it means is that I affect you deeply."

Mello agreed, but with a bitter, resentful edge to his voice. "In all the wrong ways."

"There was never a chance to do this the right way my detective, one takes what one must."

"There is always a choice. But I've already been over the part where you always think you're right," he scoffed. Didn't mean he wouldn't keep arguing, of course.

"You mean to say you would have -ever- openly considered my advances? Truly?"

"I meant it could have been your choice not to act upon your desires," Mello clarified gruffly.

"That wasn't what was in question." It was a low murmur.

"Then the point is moot."

"You declared I was always considering myself right without considering the options. I present the option of there having been no matter than this." He stretched out, settling against his back. "So tell me my detective, would you have had me any way else?"

Edited 2011-06-18 06:11 (UTC)

"I thought we already agreed that the only way I want you is dead or behind bars, leaning toward dead," Mello growled, and tossed his body as much as he could to try and buck him off.

He pressed himself closer, forced him to still. "Then there was no other option. It was have you like this, or destroy you."

Mello grunted, tried again, but was pinned securely. He didn't answer. He wasn't sure if he preferred to have died, as long as he'd gone down fighting at least.

"You would have liked that less." It was a murmur as he stroked his forearms. "I'm not returning you to your room."

"You seem to know an awful lot about what I would or wouldn't like," Mello snapped, jerking at the bonds to his wrists but unable to get him off obviously.

"I'm not going to cry over it," he growled back in response to the second statement, not sure if it was meant to be a threat or not.

"There's a difference between destroying someone and killing them." He nuzzled the back of his neck. "You're not leaving this spot for a while."

He didn't answer, ignoring the chill that differentiation sent down his spine. He pretended it was the unwelcome nuzzle.

"One prison for another. Should have figured."

"Not at all. You see, you didn't seem to like the freedoms I was giving you, so I'm not giving it back to you."

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