Rated: NC-17, R!, serious angst!
Disclaimer: We don't own any SG person that were used in that fic, nor we want to be disrespectful. It's just a fanfic. However we do own Johnny and we can assure You, that he is already locked in Kirke's dungeons, where Mr.Fluffy is taking a good care of him.
Thanks: Kisses and hugs to wonderful Cheeky for doing a beta.
Warning: That fic is not nice, happy or bright at all. It deals with some dramatic issues, so if you don't consider yourselves really big angst lovers, please skip this one. It's serious, deadly serious.

Don't Tell Me To Stop
by Wicked Witches

I sometimes wonder why he�s doing this...just *wonder*...I don't *care* about an answer any more... The body on the bed stares back at me with cold, brown eyes, no emotion behind them, yet we both know why we are here.

I approach him slowly, hesitantly, almost as if I expect to be bitten, but, of course, that doesn't happen, there's been no reaction in the past, why should now be any different? Our roles in this living tragedy, or rather, should I say parody, have been established since the very beginning, even if not a single word has been exchanged between us.

Our eyes lock fleetingly for few seconds and I can feel a band of sweat rolling down my back. That's another reason why I always turn his face. Saying that I'm scared is not enough, I panic. I'm not ready to see my reflection yet, especially in those frozen, dead pools called his eyes. Now it's not the time for recriminations, I need to win the battle with my conscience and decide that what I'm doing here isn't wrong or at least that it's what we both want. Memories of how I always feel after this won't help me, I need to be pushed, not repelled.

As if my thoughts have been read, his gaze drops and he stares at something on the floor that isn't there. I lower myself to sit beside him on the bed, not surprised when he doesn't move as I reach out and push the hair back from his face...so dark, just like someone else�s once was...

His hair...why is it so long? Is he growing it on purpose? I remember when he first joined us; it was cut short and now...I shiver. Even if there is some reason behind it, so what? Too many questions for something I'm not supposed to care about. Besides, it only makes this easier for me.

I start to caress his cheek with my fingers and he closes his eyes but not with pleasure, he simply does that every time I touch him, like he's drifting away into his own world somewhere deep in his head. Perhaps doing this helps him to shut out the reality of the situation, after all, I'm treating him as little more than a blow up doll. But then, another thought occurs to me. Am I not, in fact, doing the exact same thing, by letting this illusion to swallow me? I guess the answer to that is yes, but I have no choice, my reality became a non-stop living hell a long time ago...four months and two weeks to be exact.

I should go. My mind is screaming at me to get up and walk...run perhaps, but I need this too much to listen. As my finger slips across his lips gently probing entry I know I'm going nowhere. I can ignore the voice, I can bury the feeling in the pit of my stomach and I've already learned how to shut out those expressionless eyes, but for how long? That doesn't matter now. If I can be here without shaking him and yelling 'what the Hell are we doing, boy?!' then I can do this.

I guess I'm starting to win. The same inner self that just a minute ago was begging me to get out, orders me to lean down and kiss the back of his head gently.

In times when I cared about his motives I came to the conclusion that saying no is just as hard for him as it is for me. I still don't know why though. The most obvious explanation is that he has to be some kind of masochist, that he wants to be disregarded and degraded. It's not a fear that Lee doesn't want this that makes it so hard for me, it's the fact that I am *able* to do it.

Once upon a time, when that theory had developed for the first time, I heard a voice in my head, whispering treacherous things, that if he was one of those, wouldn't he be enjoying my treatment? Wouldn't he be turned on, sexually stimulated? That if he were some strange pervert, wouldn't there be a joy in him when I come, not a dead emptiness? I killed that voice the first opportunity I've got.

Yeah, there are still moments like that, when I'm tempted to ask, "Why are we doing this Lee? Why do you let me come here again and again?" but what if I don't like the answer? What if the answer sends me from the room never to return? Could I cope with that, with being all alone once more? Would there be anyone else who would be prepared to just take what I can offer and expect no more?? No, I need this too much, it's like a fix, and I can't resist.

I know I promised myself, no more questions tonight, no more 'why's but it's hard not to wonder. Sometimes you have to sit on your curiosity to avoid the trouble that it brings. Troubles called guilty conscious. I may have convinced myself that I don't want an answer but even so, the question sits there like a cold sore, always there, just hidden, waiting for an opportunity to resurface.

Most rational people would be ashamed to even think this way, let alone act on it, but God help me, I'm too weak to fight it, I'm too weak to say no, to ask, to face the consequences of my own action. This...*all* of this is my fault alone. If I didn't get drunk that night, if I didn't have sex with that girl, I would be with Darren at the moment, sharing an act of love. I wouldn't be spending my night using one of my friends like some cheap hooker.

His scent reaches me and, not for the first time, I realise that it's just like Darren's. He shudders a little as I bury my face in his neck, tasting his skin for the first time that evening. What was that?? With another lover, that could have easily been a reaction to the pleasure felt by my caress, but this is Lee and I know it was more likely...no, I've got to stop thinking like that. I want this and Lee must want it too or else he'd tell me to go.

As I kiss a trail along his collarbone I wonder if I should kiss him on the lips, but I throw away this idea as quickly as it comes to my mind. I'd know then. He might smell like Darren, he might be built like Darren, he might even resemble Darren in the half light of the room but there is no way he would taste like him, he couldn't, there isn't a flavour on the earth as sweet as my Diva's lips. No, I can't do this, so I continue to mouth his skin instead.

This is more like it. I guess I should wonder how the hell he knows how Darren's skins tastes like but that's a trip I don't want to take. Not now, not ever. I leave a trail of wet kisses across the skin of his back and finally reach his waistband. There is a slight pause as I wonder, just like every other time, should I really do this, am I really *doing* it, but the answer is the same as always. 'Yes you should, yes you are, just do it and get the hell out of here'. Again I obey, I Daniel Jones, Mr. responsibility, Mr. Calm surrenders to his primal urges.

"Darren, what you do to me..." I whisper against his skin and, at that exact moment, I know that tonight I won't run away, tonight I'll be strong enough.

The time for fighting with myself has passed. Perhaps I should spend more time preparing the body below me for what is coming, but there isn't much point, he doesn't respond. I've tried in the past, but it always ends up the same...I screw him and then I leave, I'm not sure if he even comes, but if I'm honest with myself, I don't really care.

God, I'm a prick, a shameless rat, I don't deserve to be called a human being but I didn't deserve to end up like this either. I've made a mistake, one fucking mistake and I paid for it for months now.

// You both pay, only Lee in a different way...// I can hear somewhere at the bottom of my skull but I happily ignore it...and speaking of Lee...

I realize that I hadn't moved for few minutes. I'm half bent over him, my fingers playing with the waistband of his shorts...it's now or never or maybe I should rather say 'it's just like always...'

God, I don't wanna have this stupid argument anymore. He's here and I want him, or rather, I want what I can get from him, so I should stop 'thinking' and start 'acting'

There was a time thoughts like that made me sick. I was, after all, treating Lee like an object, a sex toy, a thing I could use and desert at my will but I don't have those regrets any more. I learned to suppress them. Not that they aren't here any more, I simply don't listen to my treacherous brain, I am cold, unmoved, nothing can touch me now...as nothing touches Lee...

As I slide the material of Lee's shorts over his hips, I close my eyes, running my hands over the swell of his buttock. So like Darren's, round and firm. I still remember the last time I touched him like this as if it were yesterday. "Darren," I hear myself whisper once more as I leant in to kiss the small of his back.

I guess I'm not that bad after all, I do show him affection, I want him to be the part of it, and it�s not my fault that he never answers. What would I do if he did? A single word, a whisper, a moan even... it would destroy that thin illusion I have here. I can't let this happen, even if that means acting the way I'm acting now. I absolutely ignore the fact that it's not his pleasure I care about as I touch him. It's my own need to keep this as easy for me as possible. I'd never take Darren without being 100% sure that he enjoys it.

But this isn't Darren...as much as I want it to be. I'm scared, terrified to think that perhaps it never will be him again, so I take what Lee has to offer and that means detached acceptance, which suits me fine, if I'm really honest. Do I really want *him* screaming out my name or seeking my lips? No I want someone who will let me close my eyes and imagine my only real lover is the one beneath me.

I guess I could pay someone for this but why spend money if I have it all free...oops...wrong word...it's not free...I don't pay *money* for it but I pay. There is some desperate voice in my head that tries to justify this, reminding me that it was him that came to me the first time, him that offered, he's the one that refuses being caressed as Lee. I hang on to that thought, knowing I'll need all my strength to do what I'm going to do next. It's strange, I need this I want this, I can't control this and yet...I need that extra power to complete my actions.

I'm gentle in my preparations, but before long I can't hold back and the need to be inside my lover overwhelms me.

I put my leg on the other side of his body, letting my cock brush over the crack of his ass. He likes it...he always moans my name and begs for more...my sweet, impatient baby. "It's ok Dazza." I whisper huskily, "I'm here. I'll take care of you." I enter him with a one quick motion, my brain absolutely not registering the fact that I always tease him with fingers first, that's he's too gentle to go like that. In here he's ready, we've had a good foreplay, he laughed and whimpered, he wasn't still like some corpse, he *was* *here*, he *is* here.

And then I see his face beneath me and it is like Lee is no longer there. I see those blue eyes almost black with passion. I hear a voice whispering my name and I know where my strength will come from...my need for Darren. Lee's gone and the figure below me is one I am so familiar with, one I'd never hurt, one who wants this as much as I do. I no longer notice that the man beneath me doesn't move, doesn't make a sound, that is all left behind on a plane I no longer inhabit.

"I'm home," I whisper, feeling so at peace sheathed in the body of my love. My eyes mist over and for a moment my vision fogs and it's Lee I see but that's wrong, I don't want to see that now so I close my eyes tightly, letting a picture of Darren, his face a mask of ecstasy play across my eyelids. That's better...I can see him wriggling beneath me, moaning and begging for more in that sweet way of his. So I give it to him, I give him all I've got...

What was that noise?? It sounded like pain but I would never hurt my Darren like that, he's ready to take the pounding, we wouldn't be this far without all that comes before. No he's purring now, the sound that has filled my ears on so many nights hitting me now straight at my heart. "You couldn't keep us apart could you babe," my voice drifting through the air. "I knew you'd be back."

My movements become quicker and more frantic with every moment passing by. I'm getting close and looking at him, he's close as well. I reach for his cock, to give him another stimulation but, when my fingers are few inches from his groin, a strong hand grabs me, stopping me...ha, so my baby wants to play rough tonight, huh?! He wants to show me how I'm turning him on without touching him. I laugh, so much like my Dazza, always the show off.

At least I think it's that way, I seem to remember at one time, but I'm too close now and my mind resists any further debate as the fuzzy euphoria of my approaching orgasm struggles to take hold. I hear him whispering my name as my pace increases to the point where every thrust seems to impale him deeper, but that is always the stage he is most vocal as he too is swept along with the tide.

I start to moan his name over and over again, quiet at the beginning, then louder and louder and finally all dams break inside me, I scream as the waves of pleasure hit through my body. I came loudly and messily, as I always do and my vision blurs. I feel tired, contented, relaxed but tired as well. I lie myself on him, waiting for my strength to return to me...it was good...great...beyond that...he was as wonderful as ever. I start to lick a spot on his shoulder, the one that's so sensitive, the one that makes him moan when stimulated...but he's silent.

And that's when I remember where I am and who I'm with. Quickly, without speaking a word, I disentangle myself from the body I'm entwined with and make a hasty retreat to the bathroom, my heart suddenly racing from more than the dying embers of my climax. The door slams quickly behind me as I begin to realise what has happened once again and I know at that moment, I cannot face Lee.

I barely get to the sink before the first wave of nausea hits me and, before I can do anything about it, the alcohol I consumed that evening is making it's reappearance. I quickly drop to the toilet, and for the next five minutes I can't hold back. Even when I am convinced I have thrown up my Easter eggs from six months ago, there still appears to be more. Finally the retching subsides and I stand, my legs barely supporting me, flush the chain and turn to the mirror. My face is pale and my hair is limp and almost plastered to my head and those eyes...

I look at myself for few second than quickly drop the gaze. The thing I was so afraid from the very beginning had happened, I don't recognize myself anymore. It's not Daniel Jones, the musician, gentle, quiet, helpful person who I see, it's Daniel Jones, a monster, a rapist, the most repulsive of God's all creatures. I feel sick, not only physically, I feel sick inside as well, my soul is dirty, damaged and it's all my fault.

If the rest of them knew...what they would say? What would *Darren* say? Lee is one of his closest friends, we are like a family to each other and I'm treating this man like he's nothing. He'd be disgusted; I doubt he'd ever want to ever see me again. Karl and girls would never speak a word to me and Ben...he would undoubtedly kill me. First I hurt the man he loves so much and now another man he cares about suffers by my hand. I wouldn't blame any one of them but could they really hate me as deeply as I loathe myself??

I slowly leave the bathroom, careful not to lift my gaze. I know he's lying on the bed, just as I left him but I can't bear to look at him now. I may be strong enough to come here and convince myself that it's ok, but every time when it's all over, it's always the same...guilt sends me straight to the bathroom, when I contemplate what I've just done. All those feelings become too much suddenly. Rapist...monster...What other words can describe me? What else can I feel looking at the ravaged body of a person that is supposed to be my mate, a friend even, knowing that I'm the one that is responsible for...this. Even a knowledge that he lets me can't console me at the moment, nothing on that planet can.

When I run to my room, one thought hits me as always, the same thing every time...what kind of sick animal I have to be, to act like that, what kind of monster is he to comply? And just like every time the answer for that question is the same, I don't know, I don't want to know...

Poison next >>
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