You And Me
Kristin ([email protected])
Website: http://kristin.icculus.org/
Disclaimer: "Roswell", its characters, and concept are the
property of the WB and a bunch of corporations. No copyright infringement
intended. Not for profit.
Distribution: Email me to let me know.
Pairing: Kyle/Max
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: "Wipeout!"
Summary: Random musings in Max's head during the scene in which Max and Kyle had
their little alpha male showdown. I'm not sure that this makes much sense.
<sheepish grin>
"you and me
have a disease,
you affect me, you infect me,
I'm afflicted, you're addicted,
you and me, you and me"
--"Infected", Bad Religion
You're so beautiful when you
hate me, your eyes flashing chocolate silver and your skin flushing with
contagious heat. It makes it so easy to push you...
I wonder sometimes if I can
make you hit me. If I alter my tone of voice ever so slightly, if I invade your
space just one more inch, if I stand here silently just long enough... When will
enough be enough? I just can't read you sometimes. So close to the edge, barely
controlled violence--it's what attracted me. But the contradiction-the peace
that reins despite it all-is what binds me. How far Kyle? How far can we take it
this time?
Liz was strong and true and
on our side. Liz was understandable. This *never* made any sort of sense. And I
think that's why I like it.
They're flashing at me
again, your bottomless eyes, and I can see so much of me inside.
They're telling me secrets... promises... things you never meant to even
whisper in the middle of the night. I see flesh in your eyes.
I can't decide if she's
tasted you. Red bedspread flits through my mind, but I dismiss it. You'd be
hungrier. If you had reached through her for a little piece of me we wouldn't be
standing. I'd be pressed up against the wall and your hands would be vices
around my wrists. You wouldn't be
able to resist. That's why I don't kiss her goodbye. And as for you... there
isn't enough hate here for that yet...
I need it flowing through
your veins, streaming like heavy table wine. I need to see your eyes turn black
and feel my head crack back against plaster. I want your body to be crushing
mine, shaping me, making me into something besides an inactive king. I know you
can; I can see it in your soul this very instant, screaming to get out.
Your beautiful twilight eyes...
But I think it won't be
today. You're cooling fast, so I speak. The words break up the air between us,
loosening the bond. I can breathe again, and it's an empty feeling. And I need a
promise to wait on. Till tomorrow...
Once last glimpse, and I see
the future in your eyes. Hard concrete, sweat, tears, blood, and complete
fucking beauty. I see your fist--I can taste it in my mouth. So quick, and then
lips to follow. Strength matching mine, pushing back with equal force until we
explode in skin and hands and soft escaping whispers.
If Nicholas knew anything at
all he'd run. I have an appointment to keep...
"you and me,
we're made in heaven,
I want to take you, I want to break you,
supplicate you. You are incurable."
–"Infected", Bad Religion
The End.
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