Adult-FanFiction.org : Final Fantasy

Parenthesis	By : LunarPlexus Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 594 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy, and I make no profit from writing this, except kicking my writer's block!

Chapter List
- 1-Parenthesis
- 1
Games » Final Fantasy VII » Parenthesis

Author: LunarPlexus

Rated: M - English - General/Romance - Published: 10-25-09 - Updated: 10-25-09
id:5467181
~ Parenthesis~
By:

LunarPlexus
Plot:
A continuation of
my Reno and Rufus thing.
Warnings:
Lots of language,
M/M, sexual content, everything you should expect from me :P
Disclaimer:
I don�t own Final
Fantasy and I make no profit from writing this�except kicking my
writer�s block!
~ * ~
Sit
down and shut up.
I
know how hard this is for you, but try, will you?
I
have a story to tell you, and it�s a good one. You shouldn�t mind
sitting quietly for a bit, and listening.
And
keep your hands off me. Don�t touch me.
This
is exactly what you wanted. A story.
I
know you�re already dying to put me in my place, or at least try.
Don�t bother. It never worked before, and it won�t now. Sometimes
I wonder if that�s the reason things stand this way with us. You
always got what you wanted, I guess. Now, me?
(Give
it to me now)
I�m
not too bad at getting my way either.
To
get what you want outta me, you have to fight for it. It might seem
to other people like your life�s been the sweet one. Never having
to struggle to get anything. Must have been nice, right? Well, I�m
not that stupid. I�ve heard your theory on me�I�m not happy
unless I�m fighting something. Well, I�ve got the scoop on you,
and I know how much you love fighting for

something. Sure, you still expect to get it, but it�s the fight
that does it for you.
You�re
a fucking pervert, and we both know it.
You
asked for this, you know. You wanted a story. This is a good one.
So
listen. But don�t move, and don�t open that mouth of yours unless
you�re planning on putting it to good use. Quietly.
* * *
Let�s
start in the middle.
I
can�t pin down exactly where the middle would�ve been, but I�ve
got an idea.
It
would have been that time on the couch when I got you to tell me
exactly what you wanted me to do to you.
Oh,
yeah, I know you remember that.
You�re
so cool and calm, and you got no problem ordering people around, but
you�re lucky nobody else knows about you that way. I doubt anybody
would take you seriously if they knew you couldn�t even bring
yourself to talk in the bedroom.
Get
that look off your face. This is a story, remember? I�m telling it.
I
remember it like it was this morning. I had to pull your hair pretty
damn hard to get you to answer me.
(What
do you want? You�re not getting anything until you tell me what you
want.)
I
guess it worked, because you babbled like a crazy person after that.
I
call that the middle, because that�s when things started changing.
For one thing, I almost wish I didn�t make you do that, because
these days it seems like all I get to listen to is a whole load of
shit about everything you

want.
(Do
it to me, do it for me, do it with me.)
Here,
this is where it changed.
You
told me to lick you all over, and I did it. You told me to bend you
over, and I did it. You told me to fuck you �til you were dead, and
I did it.
Nearly.
I
would�ve done all that anyway. I wanted
to, I always wanted to. The change was that you told
me to.
I
told you over and over that I wanted you to tell me what you wanted.
You thought I was bossing you around? That�s a fucking lie. I
didn�t give the orders. I made you give them to me.
I
needed that.
You don�t know what it was about. I�ve taken orders from you for
as long as I can remember, before all this. You think I put up a good
fight whenever you tell me to do something. I still do it though,
don�t I?
(Get
me a coffee, take my calls, go with Rude, drop the plate, touch me,
touch me, fuck me)
It�s
the only thing I know how to do, you selfish prick.
And
this was one place where I didn�t have to take your fucking orders.
Look what I did. I made you give them to me. I need to do what you
say so badly, that I pushed you to boss me around.
You�ve
called me a lot of names over the years. I don�t care what you�ve
got to say about me, but there is one thing that sticks out. You
called me �sick� a few times. You were probably right.
Don�t
touch me right now. I�m telling you, you don�t want to try it.
Anyway,
I know I said that this
was where things changed. It doesn�t seem like it, does it? You�re
wrong, because there was change here. Things had changed, and I
changed it back. Pretty good trick, right?
Like
turning water into wine, into water.
Whatever.
It doesn�t matter now. Besides, if I think about that day any
longer I won�t be able to finish the story.
* * *
I
don�t know where to go from the middle.
I�ll
make it the beginning.
Of
course you remember. It was your fault.
I
don�t know what the hell was wrong with you. You were the one who
told me to do it. I did what you told me.
(Push
the button.)
I
didn�t like doing that, you know. Me and Rude had to go through
hell to get back here, and the last thing I needed was getting
dragged into your office to listen to you bitching about damage
control. As if it had
never been your idea in the first place. You got what you wanted,
again. What the hell were you complaining about?
Oh,
I know. But seriously, you could have left it at that. You could have
sat back and relaxed. For once in your fucking life, you could have
shut up for a minute and enjoyed being on top. But the top isn�t
good enough for you, is it? Once you win, you�ve got nothing left
to do. I know how much you hate it.
You
didn�t stop to think what I�d done for you.
That�s
why we�re here, isn�t it? So you don�t have to do these things.
You can just sit back in your high-backed chair while we go out and
do the dirty. See, that�s where I snapped.
(You
should have got off your ass and pushed that fucking button
yourself.)
That�s
why I hit you. That�s why I got the gun out.
Because
I wondered who I�d be if I wasn�t a Turk. Because for a minute, I
wanted to find out. I wanted to get out of that room, that building,
that whole damn life. And I really, really wanted to see you dead.
You�re
really lucky you�re alive right now. After you locked that door, I
was a second away from putting a bullet right between your eyes.
(Open
the door, Rufus.)
I
wanted to kill you.
(I�m
telling you, open the door now.)
I
wanted to make sure you could never talk again.
(Open
the fucking door right now, or I�ll kill you, I really will, so
open that fucking door NOW.)
Now,
I�ve never understood why you did what you did. I can�t decide
whether you were too stupid to realise how serious I was, or if you
were just arrogant. If you walk up and kiss a man who�s pointing a
gun at your face, aching to pull the trigger, then you�re as crazy
as he is.
I
know I kissed back. But I didn�t drop that gun, did I? I wasn�t
in love with you, I just wanted to hurt you. So I made your lips
bleed, and I nearly broke your arms. I remember you dragged me onto
that desk of yours, and I had to drop the gun.
(I
hope this fucking hurts.)
I
told you, don�t touch me.
I
wasn�t careful. I�m not sorry. I wanted to hurt you.
And,
you know, after wards�you were so cocky. I guess for a little while
I�d got one over on you. I was wrong, wasn�t I? I gave you
exactly what you wanted.
Again.
I
dropped that gun, and grabbed you instead. And in a way, I never
picked it up again. I kept fucking you, until I ended up with my
toothbrush in your bathroom, and my underwear on your bedroom floor.
I signed away my life when I dropped that gun.
I
wish I had shot you.
Because
I�m not going to survive this thing we�re doing.
I�m
going to die being your pet. Oh, I know I�m not going to stop on
that account. Self-destruction has always been my addiction, and this
is about as self-destructive as you can get.
No,
I�ll either end up wasting away, or you�ll pull some strings when
you�re bored with me, and I�ll disappear off the face of the
earth. And I�ll be doing what you tell me �til the day I die.
* * *
�So
what�s the end?�
�We�re
not there yet, are we?�
(I�ll
end up wasting away.)
�Now,
now�don�t disappoint me.�
(And
I�ll be doing what you tell me�)
* * *
Since
you want it so bad, here�s the end.
I
just gave you an idea. I painted you a nice big, messy picture of
everything that�s gone on. You can tell a lot about the future from
it, and that�s how I know where I�m going to end up. But, if your
imagination�s working, I can give you an alternate ending.
You
remember all this as well as I do. I might remember it differently
from what you do, but we both know what happened.
I
want you to think about a few things.
Think
of that couch.
Think
of the gun.
Think
of that desk.
Remember
what your mouth felt like after I wrecked it.
Remember
every single time you�ve told me to do something, and I�ve gone
off my nut at you. Remember how I always did it in the end anyway.
(Get
me a coffee, take my calls, go with Rude, drop the plate, touch me,
touch me, fuck me)
You
know what? Maybe there�s a slim chance that I won�t end up the
way I said. Maybe something will change between now and then. I doubt
it, but maybe.
So
here�s the other ending.
One
day, you�ll tell me to get you a coffee. You�ll say it without
even looking up from whatever you�re doing.
And
I won�t swear at you, I won�t complain.
(We�re
here so you don�t have to do these things. I did everything you
ever told me to.)
Rufus,
I�ll just say no.
Now.
(Touch
me.)
Touch
me.
~ * ~
A/N:
So that�s it! I ruined all the sleep I needed for work to write
this, dammit. Seriously, I developed a temporary Red Bull addiction,
and stayed up every night until it was done. I�m not sure how well
it turned out, because it was really hard, but this is my best. So
please, rate and review!
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Parenthesis