Words

Somewhere along the road something must have gone wrong, or else, someone must have tampered with their fate. Some stray god; perhaps a bored angel with too much time to spare or too few problems to solve. Unless, of course, their fate decreed this would be the outcome of all their feeble attempts at happiness, and this was the payment in full they received for trying to get something better. In the end all they had was a few scattered moments of peace and a lifetime of questions and 'what ifs' that haunted them wherever they went. It was ironic that while they had the power to destroy anything and anyone, they were outstandingly incapable of building anything lasting out of this power. They had been made to destroy, what room was there for anything else in their lives?

Blood sighed and stared down at the little haiku he had been trying to write for the past hour. It didn't usually take him to this long to write anything at all and yet, tonight words had left him. Though he felt a terrible urge to say something, he couldn't find how to say it, he didn't even know what it was. The blank page stared up at him in mute accusation and Blood shoved it aside with a disgusted groan. His pencil fell on the wooden table with a clatter and rolled off onto the floor. He leaned back into the chair and stared out through to window morosely, idly rolling the pencil over the floor with his toes. A cosy fire burned in the first floor, flooding the room up the stairs with its heavy heat. Outside the chill winds of Siberia howled among the glaciers, slicing through the air with razor-sharp flakes that glittered as they reflected off the light of the room. Ganymede's little house was surprisingly strong and well insulated, Blood realised.

"Or I would be freezing to death right now," he muttered to himself sullenly, resenting the darkness and cold that reigned supreme outside the little oasis of warmth. "Damn him."

He cursed to no one in particular, for there was no one to hear him, but he wished fervently that Ganymede would either come back soon or sink in a watery grave. He was tired of waiting, tired of having no words to express the feelings he barely understood and, most of all, tired of the comforting heat that clung to the room, when he felt close to freezing inside.

He got up from the chair, irately kicking the pencil into a corner as he sauntered down to the first floor and into the kitchen where he made himself a cup of coffee. He burned his tongue while drinking it, and muttered another curse at whatever instinct had possessed him to leave Milo on his own and come and see Ganymede in the middle of winter. It had been blearily dark when he arrived in the morning and he knew the sky would be the same infuriating shade of black when he left. The little cottage was the only source of light for miles around most probably, and the diminutive town that lay close by was still too far away to venture the storm outside on foot.

Ganymede was suicidal, which was why he had tried it.

"And he wants to make his pupil suicidal too," Blood grumbled, going through the kitchen impatiently, throwing a third curse at his absent friend when he realised there was nothing decently strong to drink, not even some vodka, was this really Russia? "Not that I really know what these people like to drink at parties... if they even have parties."

Wasn't Ganymede supposed to have something to ward off the cold, get some heat into your bones, kick up your system or do any of those things drunkards praised their bottles for in bars all over the world?

"He really needs to get out more," he went on, checking the cupboard again before closing it with a distasteful growl. Goddess, Blood himself needed to get out more! "Or I wouldn't be talking to myself... would I, cup-of-coffee?" He rolled his eyes and downed the rest of the glass in one gulp. "Like talking to beverages is any better."

He was getting edgy, cooped up in the house like this, waiting for Ganymede to arrive. And yet, minutes had ticked by, turned into hours and still there was no sign of him. He dropped the mug into the sink and went back upstairs, laying down on the soft bed with a sigh. At least Ganymede kept a decently comfortable bed.

"I'd rather die than sleep on those darned bunks teachers use..."

Not that Blood's teacher, being a Gold saint, ever used anything but a warm plush bed. And heavens knew what kind of bedding Dana liked. Though Blood was pretty certain he was lying on it, since Ganymede had inherited the little cottage from her as soon as his training ended.
Was there really any point in waiting up for him? Blood sighed once more and curled up on the bed, pressing his cheek against the pillow and closing his eyes while pulling his invasive red hair from his face, huffing away a few strands that escaped his fingers.

"Damn him," he muttered again, before falling asleep.

He was brought back into wakefulness by the soft padding of feet on the creaking floor and the low thump of shoes being tossed into a wardrobe. Cracking one eye open he saw the outline of Ganymede's body against the candlelight as he fumbled with the buttons of his jacket. His hair glistened like molten silver as the light dusting of snowflakes that had nestled among the pale white waves melted in the heat of the room. Blood felt a stirring in his heart as he watched his friend toss the jacket aside and run his fingers through his hair, head bowed and eyes closed as he fought against emotions Blood could not begin to guess. If they were emotions at all. And still, one thing stood out in Blood's mind, making him feel strangely guilty and uninvited:

Ganymede looked tired. So incredibly tired....

Despite the olive complexion of his skin he looked pale and Blood could see him shiver beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. His head turned and Blood found himself pinned to the bed by one fathomless grey eye that stared down at him.

"I didn't expect you," Ganymede whispered. His deep voice sounded painfully hollow as he moved closer and came to sit on the bed beside him. The slight shift in weight dislodged Blood's half-asleep body, waking him up a bit more. He lifted his own blue eyes up to Ganymede's and waited, finding no words to express his need to come or the urge to feel something more than just.... just what?

Was there any difference between Ganymede and all the girls and men he sought out back in Greece? He loved none of them, nor did he love the man who sat beside him now. But Ganymede was his friend, his lover, the one person that always stood by his side, even when he was wrong. The only person who remembered when he was not as bitter, as sarcastic and as coldly seductive. He was the only person who remembered Morgana and perhaps that was why he wanted him so much, because inside Ganymede there was also the memory of that fiery white light that had burned him down to ashes. And Ganymede... he was so inexplicably gentle and loving. Blood could almost pretend he was loved...almost pretend that it was her - that stupid, stupid silver haired bitch - that kissed him and made love to him. He could almost pretend it was Morgana loving him, because it was all to easy to pretend that Ganymede loved him.

So cold, so distant, and so willing to give into Blood... because it meant nothing to him, after all. Didn't it?

Long gentle fingers ran through his hair and stroked his scalp idly, pausing only to trace his ear with careful ease, making him shudder in pleasure. "What's wrong with you?" Ganymede spoke out loud again, changing the rhythm of his caress and turning it into the patient coaxing of a parent to his child. Inexplicably, it made Blood want to cry.

"I felt like seeing you," he admitted lowly, though he did not know why. He had wanted to see Ganymede, yes... touch him, hold him. He was one of the few people who inspired the need to reach out in him. Ganymede laughed gently and rubbed his thumb along the edge of his ear making him close his eyes and sigh.

"Did you?" he murmured, fingering the deep red fall of Blood's hair once again, watching the slow movement in his ivory throat as he breathed. "Aren't there enough people you can go to in Sanctuary, so that you don't have to brave such a storm as the one outside?"

Blood reached out and grasped Ganymede's teasing hand, placing a gentle kiss to the tip of his fingers. He lifted his blue eyes, glaring up through thick black lashes and licked his lips invitingly. "I felt like seeing you in particular."

Ganymede sat back and gave him a measuring glance before getting up, not without pulling his hand out of Blood's grasp first. "Why now, all of a sudden?"

"I guess I missed you," Blood replied, sitting up on the bed, his head slightly cocked to one side, baring his neck in blatant seduction. "Does it bother you?"

"I have a pupil to train tomorrow.... as a matter fact, so do you. What about Milo?" Ganymede asked, his brows creasing in irritation.

"He and Gabriel can fare on their own once in a while," he snapped back, annoyed by his lover's attitude. He got up as well and strode up to Ganymede, stopping when he was close enough to hear him breathe. He felt more than saw the other jump slightly when he lifted one daring hand to touch the nape of his neck where a few silver hairs clung to his moist skin. He moved closer and pressed his lips to that dark and soft shoulder, letting his fingers delve into those wet white curls and caress his scalp in a much more seductive way than Ganymede had done to him earlier.

"Blood....stop it."

He moved back and then forward again, tasting the warmth of his neck before leaning close to whisper in his ear, making Ganymede shiver lightly. "You don't want me to."

"Damnit Blood! It's way to late to be doing this!" he growled, but did not make any moves to stop him. Yet Blood felt the uneasy tension that took over his lover's body, the slight tremble in his fisted hands that spoke of stress more than anger. He moved away and placed one hand on his shoulder, spinning him to face him.

"Something's wrong?" he questioned and saw Ganymede flinch before looking away.

"No...."
"Liar," he cut back. Grey eyes lifted and gave him a sad and tired stare. With a heavy sigh, Ganymede gave in and sat back on the bed.

"I'm just tired... Training a pupil isn't as easy as it seems..." There was more to that than he was saying, but Blood did not question him further. He did not want to find out that Ganymede wanted him to leave, for if he said it was so, he would have to comply; and from such a cold and impenetrable creature, any admission of weakness was good enough. He moved to sit behind him on the soft bed and touched his neck tentatively.

"May I?" he let his fingers rest there, pressing gently in invitation. Ganymede laughed harshly.

"Why not? In the end you are still going to try to get me into bed."

Blood ignored the bitterness in his voice, he did not - never had- feel up to consoling Ganymede's darker moods. He didn't need to know he felt pain or felt weak, Ganymede would always be Ganymede for as long as he kept his failings to himself. Blood had always felt more than slightly afraid to find out what lay beyond that walls of ice he kept around himself. If there was anything at all.

He splayed his fingers and moved them carefully, massaging Ganymede's bunched up neck and shoulders, gradually dissolving the knots of tension and making him liquid and pliant under his hands. He pulled Ganymede's shirt off and pushed him facedown on the bed, taking his time to explore and press against his spine in a slow and vehement fashion, drawing out an occasional moan of pleasure from the other as he ran the heels of his hands up over his back until his fingers brushed against his neck, barely a tease to set his nerves tingling. After a while he widened his course of action, repeating the process on his arms and then back up his neck and down his back, revelling in the feeling of coaxing his supine body into a different kind of tension. He struck whatever cords he knew to pull, kindling a gentle fiery need in his lover until he could feel Ganymede was no longer so intent on relaxing as he was on arching up to meet his hands. He turned the deep strokes into caresses, drawing light paths across the prone man's back and neck, making him shiver in delight, over his arms and around his ears every now and then, biting back a chuckle as he saw Ganymede's eyebrows twitch as the tension eased for good and he gave himself up to the sensations Blood seemed to want to pull out of him. The slightly hitched breathing of his silver haired lover becoming a more potent drug than the cries of pleasure of any other man or woman he had touched, making him tremble in need of something he could not quite name.

"I'm going to kick you out for good one of these days," Ganymede mumbled against the pillow and Blood laughed, a deep rich sound, and leaned back to lay feather strokes up the back of his legs, concentrating on the crook of his knees as Ganymede licked his lips and frowned ever so slightly and squirmed below him.

"No you won't, you already tried that once," he replied, drawing his fingers up in a teasing caress, letting his hand trail up over his thighs and then lean in, to place a fiery tickle on his inner thighs, still moving his hand upwards and smiling as Ganymede's body obliged more than his conscious mind allowed and he parted his legs imperceptibly, wanting more of that unfulfilling touch. Wanting him to go on, higher and stronger.

Blood moved his hands away and smiled when Ganymede groaned a protest, his brows drawn into a fine line all too close to anguish. "I though you wanted me to stop?"

"Oh you blasted tease..." came the furious reply, grey eyes wide and soft as they always were when pleasure dulled and melted the knifing edges of his persona.

"Is that a yes?" Blood chuckled and found himself pushed down onto the bed as Ganymede reached up for him and pressed their lips together, opening his mouth with ease and skill to kiss him thoroughly. Blood shivered despite himself as Ganymede deepened the kiss.... he had learned too much in the past few years. Dark hands moved over his shoulders, pushing his clothes away, pausing for a second as a sudden and unwelcome thought took over his mind, fingers stopping above pale skin with the promise of unveiled sensuality..

"Why are you really here?"

"I told you, I missed you." Blood sighed and jerked slightly when he saw a look of anguish steal across Ganymede's features, but only for a moment before it was replaced with utter void.

"Yes...of course." Blood found no sense to the strange reaction even though he was sure he had seen it before a few times. A brief and cheerful acceptance from Ganymede, followed by a sudden shuttering from within. It was like a fire had been put out for no reason, and though his cheeks were still flushed with desire, the grey eyes that glittered above them were cold and empty. Whatever he had said, and whatever reaction it had caused, he hated it.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Blood demanded, changing their balance until he knelt, straddling Ganymede's hips with his knees and holding his wrists against the bedding.

"Nothing at all." Came the blank reply as Ganymede didn't even fight back, only rolled his head to one side and looked away. It was like being rejected all over again.

"So now I can't miss you?" he growled, fingers digging into the other's wrists, nails sinking into the tender flesh. He didn't even wince.

"I never said that, I just wondered..." There was no feeling to that voice, and it made Blood want to hurt Ganymede, just to get a reaction out of him.

"What is that supposed to mean? One minute you're all smiles and promises and now you're ice-cube of the year? What on earth is wrong with you!?" he cried, shaking him in his own agitation. A storm brewed in those grey eyes, the blush of pleasure left his features.

"What do you expect? You just come in here and want us to fuck like bunnies?" Blood let him go and reeled back as if he had been slapped. "What do you want me to say? That I have been waiting for you to come here and have sex with me all along? That I missed you too?"

"Did you?" the quiet question made Ganymede fall silent abruptly, an odd tearful glimmer in his eyes.

"No."

Blood got up and paced up to the window, leaning his forehead against the cool glass as he fought to control emotions he didn't really understand. Perhaps there were the words he could not find, just like he found no words now, only turmoil. When words fail.. what was one supposed to do? He had missed Ganymede, missed him for reasons he could not fathom himself, because what he felt for his lover made no sense in his mind.

"I just... wanted to see you. Of course there are other better lovers.. but you are my friend,...yes I know friends don't do things like this so don't say it. I just missed you, and I don't know why. And if I did, I'd find a way to not do it and stop pestering you. But... damnit! I need you! I don't know why! I just...." Blood let the sentence hang incomplete, closed his eyes and bit his lip. What could he say? Were there even words for something like this?

The rustle of movement behind him made him tense up, and when cold hands touched his shoulders he shoved them away irritably. A soft hiss from behind and a warm breath on his neck warned him of Ganymede's proximity. He shivered, half in anticipation, half in cold fury. Cool lips touched the back of his neck, planting a warm kiss there, leaving only a faint blemish on his otherwise pale skin.

"I'm sorry, I'm just too tired and...." Ganymede's apologetic whisper fell on his ears and made him burn with anger. Not at him, not at himself. Pure and simple anger at the universe itself. And then, anger at Ganymede, for being so inexplicably important to him, almost like an aphrodisiac he could never give up. For never answering his questions, for making him feel almost - but no quite- like life was worth living, like love was real. Until he grew cold again, cold and distant. Until he was pushed away, into the arms of another, because having Ganymede made him feel like crying, and yet... it was like Morgana. Anger because he was so like Morgana and yet he wasn't her, would never be. But he behaved like she had, and he behaved like Blood would have wanted her to behave with him. But most of all, because Ganymede made him weak, made him want to apologise, and while it might work with him, Morgana has made him stoop too low already, and he would not take that from anyone else.

"Forget it," he whispered acidly, pressing his entire body against the freezing glass and away from Ganymede's painfully inviting touches.

"Blood..." he could hear the edge of pain in his voice.

"Leave it be, I'll be gone by morning." There was silence behind him, then a throtled intake of breath.

"Don't go.. Blood. I'm sorry," how broken Ganymede sounded, how close to pleading... "You know I...I will always...."

"Shut up!" Blood cried, turning around violently to stare, seething, into Ganymede's stricken face. "Just... shut up."

"Blood...please...." And he hated Ganymede then, for doing exactly what Morgana never could and never would. For bowing to his will, for whatever reason he did it, he hated Ganymede because she was not there so he could hate her instead, and because he still let him do it. Over and over and over. Because Blood wanted it. He reached out and grabbed Ganymede's arm, pulling on him until he fell on the bed, a dark skinned angel with hair like moonlight and eyes like shard of mirrors.... perpetually broken. He strode over to him and pressed him back down onto the bed with a forceful kiss, hands reaching up to his neck and then down his chest, squeezing the dark nipples until he heard Ganymede let out a strangled moan of pain.

"I hate you," Blood whispered, leaning forward to sink his teeth into one of those chiselled shoulders. "I hate you so much..."

Ganymede said nothing, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he let Blood kiss him, hands moved over his neck and chest in a frenzy of both anger and desire, a burning tongue traced a path of violent fire in their wake, touching him with ungentle need and unloving fierceness, wanting to hurt if only to know he wasn't to the only one who could feel pain. Ganymede winced when sharp teeth closed over one of his nipples, and arched against those straining lips nonetheless, wanting the touches however violent they were, because they were all he had. He reached out with trembling fingers and stroked Blood's chest, tracing the lines of his muscles with all the reverence of a man touching his God, caressing the silky skin and placing moist kisses above the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Reaching out with all he had, he sought to give pleasure above all else, because a deeper part of him knew this was what it took, and this was what Blood needed... wanted.

Red hair stuck to Blood's forehead as sweat formed on his brow and he closed his eyes for one brief moment, lips softening as he made a small sound of delight when Ganymede's questing fingers reached his thighs and marvelled in them, lavishing attention on the sensitive skin on the inside of his legs, stroking up and down with playful insistence until Blood's breath became hitched.

Ganymede looked up at his face for a moment, caught by the appeal in his long lashes as they fluttered with each long, steady caress. He leaned up and kissed his jaw, a bit higher to trace his ear with his tongue while he undid Blood's pants and pulled them off, effectively throwing them both back onto the bed. One blue eye regarded him coolly before he felt deft fingers reach between his legs and squeezed hard enough to line the sudden pleasure with a throb of pain that made him gasp. A dark chuckle from below made him shiver as Blood once again moved his mouth to his chest and bit into his other nipple, fingers running over his erection almost savagely, making him arch in pleasure and jerk in pain until he found his knees could not longer support him and he collapsed onto the bed, looking away when he too was divested of his pants and underwear, wanting to curl up in shame at the appraising look he received.

"Don't look at me like that..." he pleaded, but it turned into an incoherent moan when Blood grasped him and moved his fingers with sudden and decisive violence, a feverish and wild rhythm growing in his belly, echoing with unsteady leaps in his heart. He wasn't even sure whether that felt wonderful or if the pain was just too addictive in the end. He bit his own fingers and arched wantonly into the harshly moving hand, swallowing back the urge to whimper in pleasure.

A hot whisper in his ear accompanied by a warm lick around the edge made him bite deeper into his hand. "I will look at you however I please...." Because he could never look at her, at all.

Ganymede only nodded, mumbling something incoherent as Blood applied years of practice and ill-won technique to the task of making him loose his mind, drawn from pleasure to pain without warning or mercy, nerves strum high as he spiraled into a confusion of agony and excruciating delight, until none was completely clear and all he understood was desire. Pure and mad desire, body taut and demanding while Blood's lips curved into a cruel smile, blue eyes lidded as he studied the heated perfection of his lover's demand, the strained quiver in his muscles and the unsteady breaths that left his parted lips.

"....and I will hurt you as I please...."

Even after all these years, it was painful. Perhaps the measure of Blood's need to hurt was greater than Ganymede's desire to be pleasured, perhaps it was Ganymede who gave in and took the pain simply because he wanted Blood to feel pleasure. In his heart, in his body or his mind... any was enough. All of them was perfect. And if to please him, to make him gasp and shake in the throes of passion, he should have to bite his lip until it bled, and even to be forced to whimper and plead for mercy... so be it.

"Blood... please....it..." ...hurts. But he would never say it out loud. Blood knew what he was doing, but he did not need to be told. He needed Ganymede's surrender, his glassy stare and throaty sobs of pain as he thrust with implacable force, drawing his own pleasure out of the infliction of a pain not-deserved and ill-placed. He threw his head back, hair the colour of blood sticking to his sweaty back as he cried out in exquisite abandon, hips moving out of their own volition while Ganymede reached out with trembling hands to cover his own tightly curled fingers, offering a small, fond gesture amidst his own pain that drove Blood into a passion near violence, until his lover's eyes were wide and his face moist and pale, until his expression was a mirror in pain of what it could be in pleasure, and his own body responded with that terrible liquid fire that moved up his nerves. An icy sweet rush forced his cries into one hoarse gasp and made him arch into himself, eyes closed tight in inexpressible bliss as the suddenly white and hot pleasure moved through him, loosening his mind and his emotions until they were thrown into a swirl of nothing and he collapsed over Ganymede's body, caught in the numbing spell of release, shivering with the after shocks of his orgasm like a child.

Tembling arms went up to cover his body, pulling a sheet over both of them and stroking his hair soothingly... forgiving him without him having to ask for such a favour. Tears stung Blood's eyes as he heard Ganymede's almost inaudible hiss of pain as he attempted to move, making him realise that once again he was nothing but a monster. It was true, after all, that he could never build anything, that all he had to give to the world was endless destruction. The destruction of others in his name. He did not deserve this, he had done nothing to earn Ganymede's patience and aproval, and yet he had it. And all he gave back was pain, and upon that, the worst kind of degradation.

"Why do you let me do it?" he asked in a feeble voice, hands lifting to stroke the tangled silver curls above him. Ganymede rested his cheek on Blood's head and sighed.

"Let you what?"

"Rape you." It was such a direct answer that it took Ganymede by surprise.

"You have never raped me..." he whispered, planting a gentle kiss on his head. One solitary tear ran down Blood's cheek, unbidden.

"But I hurt you." He buried his head in Ganymede's chest, trying to ignore the scent of blood that hung in the room. Blood and sex... Goddess, how much more corruption could he take before he became a monster for good?

"Nonsense..." Ganymede muttered dismissively. Blood moved over him swiftly, pushing a leg between Ganymede's to force his hips into moving. The startled gasp of pain that came in answer was all he needed in reply.

"Liar," he stated, still stroking those amazing, shimmering curls.

"Even if you do... I let you." It was a strange little admission, though both had known it all along it made Blood want to scream and shake some sense into him. Make him kill him, force him out, hurt him as he was hurt... anything! But Ganymede did none of these, he simply continued to kiss his head gently, staring down at him with what Blood knew to be a look of pure and utter indiference. It mattered not, after all. All Ganymede knew was what pain and pleasure Blood could drive into his body, and it was perhaps why he let it be this way.

Wasn't it?

Blood prayed that it was so, for it made the tearfilled look of desperation in Ganymede's eyes as they made love.. or had sex... a bit more bearable. It made the anguish and impotence in his grey gaze less painful, and less scary...

"Why do you let me?" he asked, realising just as he had uttered the words that it was something he should not have voiced. That while words failed him in some respects it was better to let them remain unsaid in others. Ganymede sighed and pulled him to lie beside him, stroking his cheeks.

"Because you need it."

Blood's own words, spoken to his teacher years before, when his teacher did the same to him for reasons he could not fathom. And here he lay, completing the unbreakable circle of pain that hung around their tampered fates. Giving pain for pain in retribution for agony in the past and the agony to come. Maybe... maybe a little pleasure was not forbidden. He remembered how it felt to surrender himself for the sake of another, and he rembered, even then... that he had wanted, above all else... a little affection.

He lifted his head and kissed Ganymede's neck, sucking on it lightly, gently, drawing his tongue accross his ear with sweet seduction, kissing a path back to his lips. Ganymede kissed back, a bit tiredly but with enough vehemence to remind Blood that there was satisfaction in giving pleasure as well as pain. Grey eyes regarded him coolly.

"Again so soon?"

"...let me....give you something." He smiled, a sad and terrible smile, and leant forward to whisper in Ganymede's ear. "Something that might make you wish I come again soon."
One thin, silver eyebrow rose in curiosity, pale eyes steeled for whatever incongruous idea had come into Blood's head, accepting already the possibility of more pain, for reasons.... that he would never tell Blood.

Some things... once said... would drive them appart. And Blood needed his indiference, because it made it easier for him to hurt him that way.

"Oh?"

"Shhh... just let me...." Ganymede's eyes widened when Blood's fingers moved below the sheets, touching him with deadly assertiveness, moving in a careful and smooth rhythm, setting a delicious pace that made him gasp and hide his face in Blood's shoulder, overwhelmed by the sudden pleasure after so much pain. Trying to hide the shame that he should still feel the same maddening desire after such an onslaught he pushed himself into Blood's arms, hips trembling with that secretly craved tension.

"B-blood....why..?" he gasped, and closed his eyes while biting his lips to stiffle a groan when the hands picked up pace, then stopped. Blood moved away, pushed him onto his back with steady care, stroked his nipples like a languorous lover while kissing his throat, his neck, his hard belly and....

"Let me...do this?" Blood's soft voice sounded almost uncertain, and Ganymede found himself nodding, hips arching off the bed when a questing tongue found him entirely unprepared and utterly mindless. He let out one small high moan of delight and almost bit through his own tongue when Blood's talented mouth moved lower and undid him with gentle pressure and wet heat. He sobbed again, this time in unfettered delight as Blood coaxed his body to respond through kisses and licks and unbelievable, warm talents that left Ganymede completely at his mercy. He reached down to touch the red hair, finding the image of his lips moving over him entirely too erotic and unreal in the candlelight, feeling his vision blur as he expected the pain to come again at any given time.

But it didn't, and instead Ganymede found himself gasping loudly, almost but not quite whimpering, eyes wide and disbelieving as Blood pulled on him over and over until the world narrowed down to his touch and he cried out, loud and clear while his own body dissolved and the pleasure crystalised in one single stream of lightning, leaving him at last, hot and helpless, fighting to find his breath and his composure with his cooling body pressed against the damp sheets.

"Good?" Came Blood's idle inquiry.

Ganymede felt like laughing, but all that came out was a strangled and incoherent sob. He fought to hold back the tears and succeeded barely, feeling Blood leave a lingering trail of kisses over his thighs and his lower belly.

"Yes."

Silence fell upon them, and Blood shifted and crawled up the bed until he was facing Ganymede. He was only slightly surprised when the other moved forward and sunk his face into the crook of his neck, hugging him fiercely. Blood stroked his long silver hair lovingly, and hummed to himself as Ganymede trembled violently. Neither said anything, for indeed, there might be no words for a pain such as this. Ganymede did not ask for an explanation, but he accepted the full measure of his gift whenever Blood offered it.... so rarely that it was indeed a gift. And though he found that Ganymede's cries of pleasure were by far more intoxicating that those of pain, he still could not change his ways.

He still could not find those words.

Finis