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Crucify my love	By : Kia Category: Final Fantasy X > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 925 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy X, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Crucify my love
- 1
I’m so ashamed.... *shniffels* I usually don’t
write lemons and I hardly ever read them and I could kill myself for this. But
I did write this story and our site needs more Yaoi fics so… Well, I never
planed to upload it on any other side buy our own (in fact I never planed to
upload it anywhere at all…) but I was stupid enough to promise Keimos (Mirri)
to do it so she’ll upload the 3th part of her FF 7 – 10 Yaoi crossover, the
first part of it that actually has lemon in it. (Read it, dammit! ^^)
If you read this fic please forget you did it
right after, okay? It didn’t went as I planned it and it turned out a little
more NC than it should have been. And, if you really want to read this more
than crapy story please keep in mind that it is my first lemon and it probably
is also my last. T_T

Warning: Yaoi, Lemon, NC
Disclaimer: Standard

Crucify my love

By
Kia

Everything is fuzzy around the edges. The world
seems to be spinning around me every time I move eve a little and in my blurry
vision the darkened room around me is filled with movement that isn’t actually
there.
I’ve caught a fever out there. It seems
pathetic. I’m more or less dead for quite some time and now I’m laying down
with a fever.
The boy is watching me, concern written all
over his face. Oh, he is so caring, so sweet. So innocent. Yes, innocence.
That’s what I see when I look into his eyes. That’s what is drawing me to him
right now.
I shiver, from the sudden coolness around me
but also from the sudden disgust at my own thoughts. My world is spinning
around me, but he is the center. His sweet young form leaning over me,
frightened by the thought of me being sick. God, he’s so beautiful.
I’m starting to hate myself for it, yet, I find
myself wanting him to lean down even closer. I’m breathing his scent already.
Smells like the sea. Smells like him.
His son. Oh, Gods!
I hate this fever for making me feel like this.
For mingling the love I held for the father with the caring affection I feel
for the son. For making me want to touch him. To find out if that smooth skin
really is as soft as it looks like.
He sits down on the bed in an incredible
graceful movement and I can feel the warmth of his skin as he places his hand
on my forehead. Worry in his eyes. He has no idea what I’m thinking.
“Tidus.” I gasp, grasping his hand. He looks
even more concerned. Probably wonders how he could help me.
I’ll show him how he can.
Part of me is hating myself for even
considering this. He’s so young, so incredible innocent and he is the son of my
best friend whom I feel like betraying by even looking at him like that. But
another part is telling me that we are all alone here, that he’s beautiful,
he’s untouched and, even in this weakened state, I’m stronger than him. This
part, in the end, wins.
I reach up and pull him down, closer to my
face, and he is much too surprised to resist in any way when I finally press my
mouth to his, when I brush my hot tongue through his slightly parted lips.
He gasps in surprise, but I meet no resistance
when my hot tongue starts to explore his mouth, when I stroke his soft blond
hair and pull him even closer until he is lying on top of me. I can feel his
slender body, his frail seeming limbs far too well through the thin blanked
covering me. His eyes are wide open, staring at me, filled with confusion. Oh
god, he’s so innocent, so pure, so untainted, and the part of me that is still
good old Auron screams at me to stop, to not even think of taking these things
from him. Yet, it stays ignored, locked away in some far off corner of my mind
as I finally break the kiss and flip him around, pinning his trembling body
beneath me. He now gasps my name, tries half-heartedly to push me away but I
don’t care as I start to kiss my way down his throat while at the same time I
push his shirt off his shoulders. He just smells so good, tastes so sweet. It’s
strange, being caught in some memory of the past, yet at the same time
very well aware of the current
situation.
Right now I’m a slave to my own desire and I’ve
given up to fight against it, even as his eyes are filling with confused tears
while he is still too shocked to rally understand what is going on.
Well, I’ll show him.
Eventually I completely remove his shirt, then
I catch his wrists with one hand while the other is slowly moving down his body.
His breath comes faster now, much faster than normal, as my tongue moves
further down his chest until my mouth begins to play with his nipples,
playfully biting them. He draws breath in sharply, yet he doesn’t move much
otherwise. Then my hand reaches the waistband of his pants, slips under and
grabs his more private area. I hear him gasp in shock, hear him call my name
and without looking at him I know he is crying. To my own horror I feel myself
smile. His voice is beautiful and I want to hear it again.
And I do so plenty in the next few minutes as I
playfully rub him, squeeze him and then, without warning, shove into his too
tight opening.
He almost screams as I do so, in pain, shock,
horror even. His face is wet with tears but I kiss them away while I stroke his
hair and whisper shooting nonsense into his ear before I carefully add a third
finger. He finally cries out in pain, his arms around my neck as he clings to
me like a little boy to his father.
That thought shatters something deep inside me
but my mind is too far gone already to recognise what it was.
He’s whimpering now, begging me to stop.
Indeed, after a while I remove the fingers and then flip him around again as if
he’d be nothing but a doll. He’s lying face down on the bed now and my kimono falls
to the floor, followed by his last remaining clothes.
His eyes squeeze shut as I place my hand on his
hips. Even though he’s completely new to this he must know what to expect now
and I think for a short moment he just stopped breathing.
The last remains of the old me cry out as I
push forward, impaling him with all I have, yet their scream of protest is lost
in his scream of pain and betrayal that doesn’t seem to end but keeps on
ringing through my head even as he looses consciousness after an all too short
but far too long time.
He now leis beside me, curled up like a child
and I’m about to sleep in as well, our naked bodies pressed together, the air
slowly loosing its heat.
I feel nothing as I look at him, no sign of the
shame and guilt I know I should be feeling, yet the words ‘I’m sorry’ keep
ringing through my mind for some reason and they just won’t go away. Yet, as I
slowly drift to sleep beside him, I vaguely begin to realise what it might have
been that was shattering inside me during this short moments of feverish
desire.
It might have just been my heart.

-end-

April 30^th, 2002

I kept hitting my head on various hard objects
while typing this down. (And my English is sooo baaad!
- 1
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Crucify my love

Crucify my love