giftsofglory | Time of Transition

"There you go again!" Mello screamed suddenly, slapping his hands away. He'd stopped crying, but was clearly still upset, sad and very angry all at once.

"You keep saying you 'care' and shit but all you care about is yourself! You think I don't know what it feels like to lose someone? Well, I fucking do, and you move on! It's fucking hard but you do it, and how dare you assume you can just take me from my life and make me forget and be happy with my fucking kidnapper? How dare you say my pain is less, and I'm the one at fault for being kept here as your little pet day in and day out, invading my mind and everything I do and refusing even to see me as a person?" His voice was raw, he was screaming so loudly, right in Sephiroth's face, trying to shove the larger man off his lap.

"No. I'm not taking this anymore! Get away from me, Sephiroth! Don't you fucking touch me and talk down to me like my feelings matter less than yours! Don't you fucking dare!"

He growled and grabbed his hands, tightening his fingers on him at once with a vicious growl. "If I meant it like that I would have said it like that and I did -not-. I never do and you don't listen in the least. You would save yourself so much pain if you'd just -listen- to the things I say. I will claim that your pain is less. You lost someone. Fine. I lost the other half of -myself-. The degree of connection the two of us had is more than you can even comprehend for the simple fact that you don't -understand what I am- enough to figure it out. You can't give me that even if you wanted to, so why should I be more concerned, hmm? Do you want me to really treat you how you believe I do? You'll regret it I promise you."

He hissed in pain at the bruising force of Sephiroth's grip but tried to tear free anyway, snarling in his face, absolutely livid.

"I don't give a fuck who or what you are. You have no right to judge that. And I fucking hate how you keep insisting you're oh-so-considerate and I'm simply not paying attention. Well, fuck you."

He spat at Sephiroth's face, lips curled in a grimace of anger and disdain.

"Fuck you, Sephiroth. Keep living that illusion. And I'm just going to keep fighting you no matter what you think."

He moved all at once, releasing one of his wrist to backhand him, feeling fire simmering in his blood. "Do not press any more."

Mello hissed and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, the blow strong enough to whip his head to the side and daze him.

But, at this point, he barely even noticed. He was so angry, adrenaline rushing in his blood, and no one would have been able to guess they'd both been sleeping soundly twenty minutes ago.

"Why not?" he demanded in a low, livid growl. "Because I'm right and you know it, but you're going to deny it forever? Yeah. I know. Now fuck off."

"You want me to not care? I'll show you what happens when I -don't care-." He didn't give himself a chance to rethink it, careful plans ruined for the moment as he let his fire flare out of his blood with the next blow hit, his other hand curling on his shoulder and shoving him down, utterly uncaring of the searing he knew he was causing. There was no right of his to push and push like this. No right.

He felt the hand at his shoulder first, even before he registered the fire. Mello was shoved down, back hitting the floor, and he gasped loudly at the sudden surge of pain, so hot, searing, burning pain. He barely felt the blow. Everything was one, agony extending from his shoulder upward, and Mello screamed before he could even realize what he was doing, thrashing violently in Sephiroth's grip.

That just made him hold tighter, snarling as he jerked his hand away from his face before he could accidentally blind him, catching him lower on his chest in an attempt to make him be still. It took a long moment for his mind to even process the fire licking up from his hands was the reason behind the thrashing and make it stop.

Fingers dug into his raw, bleeding skin and Mello's screams broke into choking, gasping sobs and cries. His hands tore at Sephiroth's wrists, nails breaking skin, and he continued to struggle instinctively, every nerve in his body screaming at him to get away from the source of the pain even though he couldn't. Agony seared his senses and he couldn't even tell at the moment exactly where it hurt, eyes squeezed shut against the blinding pain that seemed to consume all of him. His body arched up, legs kicking, doing anything he could on instinct to try to get away, but it didn't really hurt any less even when the actual fire disappeared.

His cries faded into ragged whimpering and gasping, nails still digging into Sephiroth's wrists painfully.

He was calmed on some instinctive level by the show of pain, it making it clear he was the one in charge of this situation, and it gave him the presence of mind to do something before the blond made the burns worse, reaching mentally and flipping that switch that said 'pain bad' to 'pain good'.

Now that startled him about as much as the initial burning contact did. Mello's eyes flew open and he cried out again, this time with an entirely different tenor to his voice. His hands fell away from Sephiroth to scratch mindlessly at the ground instead, spine arching and chest heaving. After all, no matter the sensation, there was a whole lot of it rushing through him right now.

He was barely coherent, utterly confused by the foreign pleasure surging through his body, mixing with the pain, and all he knew was that it was wrong. His body was going into shock from the overwhelming pain despite his current perception of it, and he was gasping too-quickly for breath, still convulsing on the floor beneath Sephiroth.

It was better, and he crooned softly to him, pressing down to the side of the burns to keep him against the ground, stilling him from moving as much as his other hand moved to try to work on the worst of the damage.

He fell still soon enough, simply shuddering and gasping shallowly. He didn't really feel Sephiroth's hands on him or whatever he was doing, hovering somewhere on the edge of consciousness and twitching with the occasional pang of pain and pleasure that made him choke, fingers spasmodically curling in the carpet.

"It's alright now. Shh shh I'm fixing it. I'm not good enough to make it all better, but I'm fixing it. You make me so -angry- sometimes... You should have stopped today, I didn't want to scar you like this." It was all spoken gently as he worked on him, putting careful effort first into the area directly around his eye, then down to the deeper burn at his torso.

Mello let the words wash over him without registering them, the tone soft and soothing, too incoherent at the moment to even care whose voice it was and simply letting the gentle manner of the words calm him. His eyes were half-open and he could see the flutter of shadows, Sephiroth's hands moving over his face and then his body. There was a warmth seeping into his skin that he didn't realize was healing yet, and it felt good, or maybe that was still the pain. He couldn't tell. Everything hurt, and his skin felt so hot.

"There's no going back though my detective, no going back at all, so we can only go forward yes?" He eased the hand off his chest so he could use both for healing the deepest burn. "But that's fine too, you'll see."

There were no arguments from Mello anymore, not right now. He didn't care what the words were, barely even listened. The tone was still gentle and that was the only thing that mattered, as well as the warmth seeping into his shoulder, gently mending the worst of the damage there, ruined flesh knitting back together with difficulty.

Mello whimpered, half-lidded eyes staring up at Sephiroth blankly.

He leaned down and brushed a kiss over his undamaged cheek before returning to the healing. It was going to tire him, but at least the man under his hands wasn't feeling too much true pain from the mess right now. He'd put his senses to rights when he'd done all he could. He wasn't there yet though, even if the effort was starting to bother him.

Currently, he couldn't make sense of the sensations mixing so strangely, pain and pleasure and heat and cold, all lingering on his skin. His forehead was damp with a cool sweat, hands clammy, and he'd abandoned his desperate scratching at the carpet from sheer exhaustion, instead expressing his discomfort completely unwittingly by that low, keening whine that consistently kept going in his throat. He was dizzy, and closing his eyes made him nauseated, so Mello kept them open, watching Sephiroth's face without really paying attention, just using it as a focal point.

Edited 2011-06-27 09:27 (UTC)

"I'll heal you Mello, I promise." It was a soothing croon, and he finally had to stop. It wasn't like healing himself, that was barely a thought. No, healing someone else took careful work. Instead, he gently picked him up, knowing he needed to bandage him and carrying him with him.

Another soft whimper caught in his throat, slipping past his bloodied lips as he was picked up. Mello was a dead weight in his arms, completely still save for the occasional little shudder and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. More physical contact and the warmth of Sephiroth's body seemed welcoming and Mello let his head rest against the larger man's chest, still feeling those little tingles of pleasure that didn't quite fit in with anything else. He should be screaming in pain, not vaguely aroused-- he knew that somewhere in the back of his head but there was no chance of making sense of the world right now.

He carefully gathered the things he needed before going back inside the bedroom, holding Mello in his lap as he rubbed a salve over the burns with extreme care then set about wrapping them. "I won't put your senses back while this is so bad still, understand?"

No, Mello didn't understand much of anything at the moment. He tried and failed to speak, letting out a soft gurgle instead and licking his lower lip clean of the small bit of blood from when he'd bitten it earlier.

Sephiroth's fingers rubbed against his injured skin gently, something cool settling over the burned flesh, and Mello moaned softly, closing his eyes finally with a subtle shudder.

"Mm didn't think so. That makes me curious if you'll even know what I said later." He kept gentle, making sure no burns were untended before pressing cloth over them, securing it down and purring softly at him. "But that's fine either way."

Mello squirmed weakly before giving up, occasionally letting out little noises, sometimes of pain and sometimes almost erotic. He felt cloth wrapping around his shoulder, chest, then his face. It covered one eye, so he opened the other in some sense of vague curiosity to see what the world looked like only from his right eye.

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