Forbidden Fruit

Every time it happened, he'd promised himself it'd be the last.

"Shh... not so loud yet... wait till we get to my room..."

Lips linked; tongues entwined; limbs tangled... All occurring at the same time as they shuffled to the bed.

"...Nn..."

The soft sheets were an instant trigger; it was 'safe' now. No one would disturb them here. The heat increased; their movements became more frantic, more needy.

"...Nnh...!"

Every breath he took in was to no avail. The other man took it away each time as the bare gap between their lips refused to stay. He felt weak. He was exhausted. But the other man wouldn't give; he just kept taking and taking...

"...You can speak up now. We're alone... No one will hear us here."

He refused, shaking his head slowly. His head felt like a balloon, so light... Harsh and speedy movements caused him pain, but he continued to bite his lips.

"... I want to hear your voice."

'No... I cannot... I will not.'

But he dared not say it this time. Not after what happened during their last session. Disobedience was only rewarded with punishment.

The other man said nothing, but slipped his hands into the loosened front of the silky top. He found the nub hidden underneath and gave it a little squeeze.

"...Ah!"

That voice alone was this man's drug. He craved it, stimulating the sensitive nub a few more times, bringing him the same euphoric notes from the teased. To the one that created such music though, those notes were tainted, each seeping with the sins he'd committed.

"...Ike...Please..." Another squeeze; another hitch of a voice. "...This... this isn't what we talked about-"

"But Marth, there's no way we could stop now." Ike was crushing the prince into the mattress beneath them, barely giving his prey room to breathe. Ike pulled his legs upward and let his mid-region brush against Marth's. A cherry blush coloured the royal's cheeks. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to bare with me."

Sorry. That word has been said so many times in this room, on this bed, with him...

'Sorry, it's impossible to hold back.'

'Sorry, but you're so delicious...'

'Sorry... I know it hurts... Just a little more...'

Sorry. It was meaningless.

"...Ah!" The fingers on his chest were replaced with a wet muscle. As Ike's tongue swirled around his nipple, Marth could only let his body betray his thoughts.

'It wasn't supposed to be like this! Why? Why?'

But his body reacted every time. He felt exhausted. He was weak. But Ike would never give him his rest.

The temperature continued to rise; Ike could feel the stickiness between him and Marth now. The prince's breathing became ragged and hitched; it was time to move on.

Clothes were discarded. Movements sped up once more. The creaking of the bed could surely be heard from the floor beneath, but it didn't matter.

Marth felt like he was choking; he wasn't sure from what though. It could've been his uneven breathing. It could've been his own self-restraint to keep the tears back. It could've been Ike smothering him in this rough mix of passion and lust.

Marth wasn't sure what it was, but it didn't matter.

It was always the same sequence every time.

Shortness of breath, choking sensations, new injuries, and...

"...N-no!" Marth almost managed to block Ike from entering, but his legs were quickly pried open moments later.

Ike read Marth through body language alone, hence betrayal from the body was always cruel. "Don't say that, Marth... I know you're ready."

And the screaming would come.

Thrust.

Thrust.

Until the stream of white was released, Ike would not pause. But for the ranger to stop completely, once was not enough.

This man wouldn't give. He just kept taking and taking... The prince could feel himself thoroughly emptied night after night. The last of his essence would always be squeezed out of him, leaving him a blank shell for the days to come.

But the royal had found a safe haven after the numerous times they've done this.

He felt weak. He was exhausted. And from that, he'd let himself be taken to an unconscious state, where once there, he'd be free from the deeds he'd done; the sins he'd committed.

It was his little revenge on the young ranger. Ike hated it when he'd go by himself, leaving the taller man with only his vessel. By doing so, the night would feel incomplete to that man. But, it would also mean he'd come the next night, filled with desires to be fulfilled.

It was an endless cycle.

Marth could only promise himself time and time again that it'd be the last time; the last time he'd let Ike toy with him. The last time he'd let Ike drink his fill by sucking the life out of his body. The last time he'd let Ike become one with him.

It was always a broken promise. A pointless promise. He'd make it anyways, wishing for it to be true one day. Because he knew those days existed. He'd experienced it for himself.

Ike wasn't always a man that wanted complete control over him. Their love had been pure and affectionate. Their days were filled with laughter.

Had he known his own body was a forbidden fruit to Ike, Marth would never have let that first night exist. What he had given was too much just for Ike to taste him. Now the nights repeat themselves. Now the days are as pointless as the words they exchange.

At least there was still something that would let Marth crack a smile, despite his body's pains and the things Ike did to him every night.

He let the unconscious state shield his eyes to keep him sane for another pointless day.

I never write angst. So why do I decide to try at 3am. :( On the bright side, it didn't turn out that bad. Comments and critiques much appreciated on this first angst fic of mine. It's a genre I barely touch because it's quite opposite from the conditions of my own life. I suppose it's back to crack for me (yes, that genre relates to my life very much).

~Fhal