giftsofglory | Breaking point

Entry tags:

place of politics

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He didn't try overly hard to confine him, had no desire to at the moment really, instead moving around his wild anger and deflecting or dodging as needed, waiting for the energy to be spent.

Upon getting away again, Mello made straight for the desk next, having learned the cabinets were useless. The desk wasn't bolted down. The lamp on it wasn't either.

He snatched that up, chucking it at Sephiroth, but didn't even wait to see if it hit, already tearing out drawers and shoving the chair over to get to them.

"That's enough." His voice was soft, but thrummed with command in more than a verbal way, and his reflexes turned the lamp in his hands after he'd grabbed it.

Mello barely heard him-- but it didn't matter. Whatever he was holding fell from his hands and he froze, barely catching himself on the edge of the desk before he crumpled to the ground from shock as he was suddenly jerked into stillness, despite how much more he wanted to keep destroying everything until there was nothing left. He seemed to have momentarily forgotten why it was that he couldn't keep going and stared at his bloodied hands dumbly in shock, trembling.

He padded over to him and gently gathered him up in his arms. "That's more than enough."

"Let- let go--" Mello tried to protest but he was incapable of struggling anymore, even if he wanted to. He stared at Sephiroth with wide eyes, cheeks still tear-stained.

"No. You hurt yourself." He headed off toward the bathroom, sitting him on the counter so he could carefully wash his hands.

"I don't care," Mello muttered dismally, and being forced to stay still was slowly sapping his energy away again. He stared down at his hands, not even trying to move them as Sephiroth washed the blood from his scrapes.

"Apparently leaving you alone would be bad at this juncture, you might do yourself more harm." He kissed his forehead before sweeping him back into his hold, releasing the command of stillness.

Mello didn't seem to realize he'd been released, or perhaps he simply suddenly didn't care. "So what?" His voice was quiet, tired. "You don't want damaged goods? Is that it? Go fuck yourself."

"I don't want you to hurt yourself." He headed for the door of the bedroom.

"Because you say I'm yours. Isn't that right?" he growled, bitterly. He wouldn't give a shit if he hadn't decided to make Mello a pet. But Mello knew he was being seen as a possession, and possessions weren't allowed to damage themselves.

"Yes. I've invested quite a few hopes in you." It was a murmur, and he moved down the hallway, then went upstairs.

He was only half-paying attention to the surroundings, but Mello was somewhat relieved to be out of his prison anyway. Even if he was now stuck with Sephiroth.

Perhaps it was better than being alone with his insanity.

"Forget them. I'm not going along with anything you want." The further from the room they got, the more life his voice seemed to regain. And stubbornness, of course.

"So you tell me." He swept into a room, a bedroom, still cradling him. It was a stark difference from the other rooms. This one had no real color to it, just black, white, and numerous layers of gray. It was, however, infinitely more decadent, the materials obviously the highest quality.

He didn't really give a damn about color right now. All he cared about was that the room was new, large, and the bed wasn't fixed with restraints. He struggled slightly in Sephiroth's grip to look around more thoroughly.

"Is this your room?"

"It is." He set him on his feet. The carpet was as soft as he could get carpet to be.

He was glad to be set down, and immediately curious. It seemed his fit of rage had ebbed; he didn't try to destroy anything, but he did walk around to get a feel for the place. The nicer quality of the room wasn't lost on him, and it somehow made him feel slightly better. He knew it was only a more lavish prison, but the lack of everything he'd grown to dread in his room was important.

"Contrary to what my reactions to pain may imply to you, I'm actually highly sensitive to physical contact be it from people or objects, this room is catered to that."

Mello glanced over his shoulder.

"That just means I have to hit harder."

His lips twitched. "That wouldn't make it hurt more after what you've done to yourself."

"Thought you were all sensitive," Mello scoffed. He wasn't entirely serious, but he was clearly trying to be unkind.

"I am." He rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "I can see colors in this room you can't, my clothes are an incredibly expensive weave of cloth, and I can feel every bit of texture in your skin when I touch you. Outside of my contact with you, I always wear gloves. Do you remember that from before you came here?"

"Yeah. Whatever," he muttered grudgingly. He remembered-- but hadn't thought it important. He often wore leather gloves as well, for no better reason than that he liked them.

He sat on the bed, just on the very edge, not looking at all comfortable but rather resigned.

"Why did you bring me here?" Sephiroth always had a reason. Usually one he didn't like.

"Because you would have broken if I'd left you there."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject