Title: [Conquer]
Author: [foggynite]
Email address: [[email protected]]
Rating: [R]
Warnings: [Some blood play]
Pairing(s): [Justin/Richard]
Status: [Completed]
Date: [4/6/03]
Archive: []
Notes: "The use of force alone is but temporary. It may subdue for a moment; but it does not remove the necessity of subduing again; and a nation is not governed, which is perpetually to be conquered." Edmund Burke
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The beauty is in the control," Justin says quietly as he draws the razor lightly over his skin.
"It's fuckin' insane, is what it is." Richard mumbles darkly around a cigarette. He shifts uncomfortably in the dilapidated window. Darkness haloes him, glows around the edges of his designer jacket and his eighty- dollar hair cut.
Justin can see the moment it hits the other boy. The moment perfect Richard realizes that this thing between them is reaching another level. This illicit meeting that defies their society and conventions and morality.
He can see Richard's excitement. The chance is there, if he offers the right amount of deviance. That's why the other boy is here now. To push the limits of a world that has given him everything.
Justin feels a thrill in giving him something the world never will. The chance to be free.
The razor is just sharp enough to pierce skin. Tiny paper cuts, shallow kisses just deep enough to sting. His face is a flawless mask as he draws the razor over his bicep again.
Richard watches impassively from the window. He is pretending that it doesn't affect him, seeing tiny red welts along such pale skin. Justin knows better. He can read him easily, in the minute shift of his hips towards the act unfolding before the fire. In the too steady intake of breath, carefully measured to give nothing away. In the way Richard's lips slowly slacken around the filter of his cigarette as he focuses on breathing.
Justin knows that Richard loves to watch. That is an aspect of the other boy he is willing to exploit. Enjoys abusing, even.
"You must control your mind to control your body."
A lesson written out for him in superficial incisions, lightly etched in human flesh. This is a gift Justin would give to him, to have him understand. He has staged this for Richard's benefit. A fire and the moonless sky and his own body, sleeves rolled up, exposing little but revealing everything.
These are the strings he ties around Richard, his willing victim. These are the bindings they give to each other.
"When you have conquered the flesh, you place yourself above it. Above its needs and desires. Above its confines and boundaries."
Short, perfect lines across his skin. There are the ghosts of many other lines just beneath the surface. A testament of his desire to conquer himself.
Richard's eyes are half-lidded now, smoldering in the shadows. Justin continues to stare blankly at the fire, sitting cross-legged before it. He flicks the razor against his skin, sharp and quick, reveling in his unphased demeanor. His perfect mask to turn to the world.
There is a cold trickling down his elbow. Itching so slightly that he has to grind his teeth slowly to prevent the razor from scraping the blood back up. He leaves the trail there. A challenge to his chosen partner.
His hair has fallen into his eyes and he wonders what Richard sees as the other boy gazes across the room so silently. He wills him to stand up, to cross the rickety floor. A creak of wood and whisper of leather tells him Richard has decided to approach.
"When you destroy the flesh unflinching, there is freedom," he murmurs quietly, and continues to let the razor run its path. Perfect lines, stinging sharp and oh so wonderfully until his entire upper arm is red, puffy and irritated.
Richard's pants moan as he bends his knees. Stiff leather too new for anything other than walking tall. Justin can feel the coolness radiating off the other boy, feels a chill as Richard's shadow blocks the fire.
Slender fingers pluck the razor from his grip delicately. Justin finally looks up and whatever Richard was about to say dies on his lips. The blonde studies the razor instead. Runs a finger along its edge. Justin was hoping there would be a bead of blood on it, but the blade has been cleaned in his flesh and Richard merely finds a metal edge, waiting for destruction.
Justin waits as well, wonders what Richard will say. Licks his chapped lips and realizes he has drawn Richard's attention back to himself. He ducks his head again and stares at the fire.
An uncalloused finger traces the welts on his arm, dabs along the line of blood trailing to his elbow. He catches a shudder before it releases along his spine. Richard is kneeling closer to him now, towering over his shoulder.
"You have such smooth skin," Richards says in his ear. The tone is new, even if the words are not. Justin leans his head farther forward, exposing his neck above his collar in the stretch. "Wouldn't it be better to conquer someone else's, instead of your own?"
An errant philosophical question and he knows there are a thousand conversations they can have with it. An innocent question, wanting his response to provide a solid answer, so that it can be forgotten tomorrow.
"That is the ultimate sin of society." Justin offers. He closes his eyes when he feels heated breath stirring the dusting of hair on his skin. "It's not enough to just conquer them, though. Anyone can do that."
"What would you do, then?" And the fingers are in his hair, insinuating themselves against his scalp likes poison asps. Dangerous and loving and deadly.
"Destroy their foundations. Show them that all they believe, all that they put their faith in, is illusions. Show them that they are not safe in their world of conformity."
Warm lips on his neck, against his pulse, and the soft exhalation through Richard's nose. Familiar and unusual and comfortable and unpleasant. Justin's skin is crawling at the intimacy, taking pleasure in his own violation. Because this is what it is. A violation.
And Richard is unbuttoning his shirt, roughly pushing the fabric over his damaged arm in his fervor. But Justin lets him. He braces himself and is pulled along in the swift rush that is Richard.
Richard, who thinks he can have his answers so easily. That he can push Justin back onto the thin blanket, and cover him completely, and use him, love him, covet him. Who thinks that he is conquering and owning and protecting.
Justin lays back and pulls Richard down, granting him permission with his kisses, welcoming him with his hands and fingers. Staying and fighting his own panic, conquering himself.
Author: [foggynite]
Email address: [[email protected]]
Rating: [R]
Warnings: [Some blood play]
Pairing(s): [Justin/Richard]
Status: [Completed]
Date: [4/6/03]
Archive: []
Notes: "The use of force alone is but temporary. It may subdue for a moment; but it does not remove the necessity of subduing again; and a nation is not governed, which is perpetually to be conquered." Edmund Burke
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The beauty is in the control," Justin says quietly as he draws the razor lightly over his skin.
"It's fuckin' insane, is what it is." Richard mumbles darkly around a cigarette. He shifts uncomfortably in the dilapidated window. Darkness haloes him, glows around the edges of his designer jacket and his eighty- dollar hair cut.
Justin can see the moment it hits the other boy. The moment perfect Richard realizes that this thing between them is reaching another level. This illicit meeting that defies their society and conventions and morality.
He can see Richard's excitement. The chance is there, if he offers the right amount of deviance. That's why the other boy is here now. To push the limits of a world that has given him everything.
Justin feels a thrill in giving him something the world never will. The chance to be free.
The razor is just sharp enough to pierce skin. Tiny paper cuts, shallow kisses just deep enough to sting. His face is a flawless mask as he draws the razor over his bicep again.
Richard watches impassively from the window. He is pretending that it doesn't affect him, seeing tiny red welts along such pale skin. Justin knows better. He can read him easily, in the minute shift of his hips towards the act unfolding before the fire. In the too steady intake of breath, carefully measured to give nothing away. In the way Richard's lips slowly slacken around the filter of his cigarette as he focuses on breathing.
Justin knows that Richard loves to watch. That is an aspect of the other boy he is willing to exploit. Enjoys abusing, even.
"You must control your mind to control your body."
A lesson written out for him in superficial incisions, lightly etched in human flesh. This is a gift Justin would give to him, to have him understand. He has staged this for Richard's benefit. A fire and the moonless sky and his own body, sleeves rolled up, exposing little but revealing everything.
These are the strings he ties around Richard, his willing victim. These are the bindings they give to each other.
"When you have conquered the flesh, you place yourself above it. Above its needs and desires. Above its confines and boundaries."
Short, perfect lines across his skin. There are the ghosts of many other lines just beneath the surface. A testament of his desire to conquer himself.
Richard's eyes are half-lidded now, smoldering in the shadows. Justin continues to stare blankly at the fire, sitting cross-legged before it. He flicks the razor against his skin, sharp and quick, reveling in his unphased demeanor. His perfect mask to turn to the world.
There is a cold trickling down his elbow. Itching so slightly that he has to grind his teeth slowly to prevent the razor from scraping the blood back up. He leaves the trail there. A challenge to his chosen partner.
His hair has fallen into his eyes and he wonders what Richard sees as the other boy gazes across the room so silently. He wills him to stand up, to cross the rickety floor. A creak of wood and whisper of leather tells him Richard has decided to approach.
"When you destroy the flesh unflinching, there is freedom," he murmurs quietly, and continues to let the razor run its path. Perfect lines, stinging sharp and oh so wonderfully until his entire upper arm is red, puffy and irritated.
Richard's pants moan as he bends his knees. Stiff leather too new for anything other than walking tall. Justin can feel the coolness radiating off the other boy, feels a chill as Richard's shadow blocks the fire.
Slender fingers pluck the razor from his grip delicately. Justin finally looks up and whatever Richard was about to say dies on his lips. The blonde studies the razor instead. Runs a finger along its edge. Justin was hoping there would be a bead of blood on it, but the blade has been cleaned in his flesh and Richard merely finds a metal edge, waiting for destruction.
Justin waits as well, wonders what Richard will say. Licks his chapped lips and realizes he has drawn Richard's attention back to himself. He ducks his head again and stares at the fire.
An uncalloused finger traces the welts on his arm, dabs along the line of blood trailing to his elbow. He catches a shudder before it releases along his spine. Richard is kneeling closer to him now, towering over his shoulder.
"You have such smooth skin," Richards says in his ear. The tone is new, even if the words are not. Justin leans his head farther forward, exposing his neck above his collar in the stretch. "Wouldn't it be better to conquer someone else's, instead of your own?"
An errant philosophical question and he knows there are a thousand conversations they can have with it. An innocent question, wanting his response to provide a solid answer, so that it can be forgotten tomorrow.
"That is the ultimate sin of society." Justin offers. He closes his eyes when he feels heated breath stirring the dusting of hair on his skin. "It's not enough to just conquer them, though. Anyone can do that."
"What would you do, then?" And the fingers are in his hair, insinuating themselves against his scalp likes poison asps. Dangerous and loving and deadly.
"Destroy their foundations. Show them that all they believe, all that they put their faith in, is illusions. Show them that they are not safe in their world of conformity."
Warm lips on his neck, against his pulse, and the soft exhalation through Richard's nose. Familiar and unusual and comfortable and unpleasant. Justin's skin is crawling at the intimacy, taking pleasure in his own violation. Because this is what it is. A violation.
And Richard is unbuttoning his shirt, roughly pushing the fabric over his damaged arm in his fervor. But Justin lets him. He braces himself and is pulled along in the swift rush that is Richard.
Richard, who thinks he can have his answers so easily. That he can push Justin back onto the thin blanket, and cover him completely, and use him, love him, covet him. Who thinks that he is conquering and owning and protecting.
Justin lays back and pulls Richard down, granting him permission with his kisses, welcoming him with his hands and fingers. Staying and fighting his own panic, conquering himself.