Disclaimer: I don't own Hikaru no Go

A/N: AkiHika. Two-shot. Rated M because I felt it suits best. May not be very happy, but I've you've looked at the category, you already know.

Written in Hikaru's perspective

I don't even need to look at you to know that you have lost your game today. I know it from the furious sound of the doorbell alone.

I stand up from my game and go to answer the door.

I hesitate for a moment when I picture you standing on the other side, seething.

But I know it's inevitable.

I sigh and turn the doorknob, but it's you who pushes the door open. I take a step to side, out of the door's way, out of your way. You slam the door shut.

I stand there and watch.

You turn to me, slowly. Your breathing is flat, your lips slightly parted. I see the pain, the helplessness over your loss in this almost-near a title game, burning in your eyes. Helplessness you can't control. As you watch me out of dark orbs in a pale, aristocratic face, I see emotions changing in them.

I try to stand straight, try to look at you steadily. But as always your dark gaze turns my insides twisting, and I don't know what to do. I feel my gaze wavering against your stare.

And, once again, we have lost.

I close my eyes in resignation, only for a moment, knowing what is to come.

Before even my lashes have touched my cheek, I feel your lips on mine.

I wish I could help you differently than that.

But I'm weak, too. I love you.

In an instant your lips crash violently on mine and I stumble back. Your body pushes me. I don't fight back, I only try to cushion the impact with my hands against the wall, try not to hurt myself. I meet it in my back, as you press on with your body. Your tongue demands entrance into my mouth.

I immediately yield.

Your teeth brush painfully against my lips, you don't even try to be gentle. But I only close my eyes against the pain and concentrate on the sensation of your tongue in my mouth. I try to meet your tongue, try to battle back, but I don't think you even notice my weak resistance. Your body presses mine so hard to the wall, I can barely breathe. I become dizzy with lack of oxygen and pain, as you bite into my lip.

I can't fall, you are so close, but no matter how painful this night will become, I couldn't part.

When your hand creeps into my hair and clasps some handful of strands, I yelp, as you tear at my hair and my head bumps into the wall hardly.

I feel your other hand under my shirt and your fingernails digging deep into my skin.

Somehow, in the back of my mind, I know it shouldn't be like this. You shouldn't hurt me.

But I don't fight back. I love the touch of you hand, even so.

I take some quick breaths when you finally let go of my mouth. I run with my tongue over my lips and meet the sharp, sweet taste of my own blood. My lips are wet with it and with your saliva.

I lowly yelp, partly in surprise, partly in pain, as you bite, not too gently, into my earlobe.

You must have heard, because I feel your head moving away from mine, and I open my lids the slightest bit to squint at you from under my eyelashes.

Your eyes are hooded, and there's a glint to them that makes me shiver. You only have to look at me that my lust arises, and that it's partly fed by fear doesn't matter to me.

You smile your dangerous, pleased almost-smile, as your fingernails lightly run over my bared throat.

You are mine.

You don't even have to say it.

I don't fight back when your hands glide deep, down my sides. I'll let you do what you need.

I close my eyes as you touch me.

I let you drag me to the bedroom.

I feel tears forming in my eyes.

We're so weak.

Why?

Why does love make us so weak?

I'll always give you all I have.

Even if it's not enough.