x (xxkonstantinex) wrote in music_fiction,

  • Mood:
  • Music:

Sharks and Danger

Title: Sharks and Danger
Author: xxkonstantinex / shayminn
Pairing: George/Dallas
Rating: Um... PG-13? o_o Between there and R, I guess.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I don't know them and this really couldn't have happened.


"There's nothing self-satisfying about laying face down in a puddle of your own blood. Absolutely nothing at all. If the self-satisfaction is what I need, then why do I keep letting him do this to me? For such a skinny little shit, he sure hits hard."

"George, why are you putting your life on the line? Why risk your life for a relationship you know is heading nowhere?"

As life hangs beside me

"Why? Wade, do you know what it feels like to be alive?" George asked smoothly, remembering Dallas' exact same words to him a few nights before, the night he'd been discussing previously.

Wade had been caught offguard by the question, but George hadn't exactly expected him to understand at all. How do you understand something as delicate as this? As delicate and fragile as he'd become in the hands of Dallas, his bandmate and lover.

I gather all that I can

Wade had thought it to be simple, the task of ditching Dallas, but losing the other man would take more than a couple of simple words. At first, the whole thing had been nothing more then a fling between two deprived men. George had been feeling lousy and Dallas had decided to help him feel better about it. It had worked. Dallas had been gentle at first, Dallas had no intentions of hurting him.

After a couple of times, however, Dallas had gotten aggressive. No one had noticed until George had shown up with a busted lip. But no one worried, Dallas had worked his charm and made it out to be accidental. It hadn't been an accident. The cuts, the bruises, the scratches... all the pain became intentional. Dallas had become a masochist, a sadist of sorts and George was his muse.

"He's obviously sick, George. You should end this thing before you really get hurt."

George just shook his head. Confronting Dallas wasn't a possibility. Not unless he wanted to get hurt...

"Promise me you'll talk to him, George."

George just nodded. Maybe Wade was right. Maybe he should go and speak with Dallas...

You were never one for confrontation

It was late now, as George stood outside the door of Dallas' apartment, his palms sweaty as he contemplated the thought of leaving while he still could. But he'd already knocked.

...and Dallas had just opened the door for him.

George took a few steps inside, noticing how the place was in a slight state of chaos. It was a mess -- from the kitchen to Dallas himself. But Dallas... he was a good-looking mess.

"I wasn't expecting you, George... I'm actually not ready for --"

"I'm here to talk to you, Dallas... about... um... this relationship."

Dallas sighed, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He stared at George for a minute, his hair falling back into his eyes as he did so. As usual, he looked too sexy to resist.

"Talk. About our... relationship? What the hell are you talking about, George?" Dallas spat, watching as George walked over, as he placed his palms on either side of Dallas' head.

"About us, Dallas... this whole abusing, fuck-buddies thing. Don't you think it's gone too far? Don't you think I've had enough? I can only take so much pain --"

"Shut the fuck up, George! You enjoy that pain, you shit." Dallas stated, "Why do you think you keep coming back for more?"

But now it lies all in your hands

It was true, George did enjoy the thrill he got when Dallas touched him, the passion that errupted from a simple kiss enough to make everything else seem less important. Dallas was the most important thing in George's life.

"But- I can't handle it, Dallas!" he exclaimed, whimpering slightly as Dallas grabbed him and pinned him to the wall, his hands roughly holding George there.

George gazed up at Dallas, feeling the pressure of the other's body as he pushed his full weight against him, one hand reaching up to George's chin and gingerly lift his face upwards for a kiss, one George couldn't refuse. Deep, passionate -- and from Dallas.

George could feel Dallas' hands ride up his body, run down his side and finally, push him away. Push Dallas off and away. But Dallas never strayed far from George.

"But how did that feel? Could you handle that once more?" Dallas panted, raising an eyebrow curiously at the other.

George lunged at Dallas' lips again, pulling the other's body back against his own, allowing Dallas' hands to wander. He wanted Dallas -- all of him. The scent, the smell, the touch, the taste, the love, the hate... the abuse. For Dallas, he'd endure it.

I'll never sleep

Dallas suddenly pushed George away, causing the thinner male to trip and fall onto his back. He watched Dallas look down at him, slightly terrified by the expression the other's face held. Such anger, such hatred... all for George.

Dallas was stradling George now, his hands tracing up his neck, across his jaw... delicately touching the swollen lip he'd hurt the last time they'd been together. George was panting, nervously observing Dallas from behind the lenses of his glasses, his normally tidy hair down on his forehead, just inches from his widened eyes.

Who will be there to tell me how stupid I am?

Dallas' hands worked their way down George's chest, down to the last button on the shirt he wore. Slowly, he undid them, allowing the cold air inside his apartment to sweep over George's bare flesh, allowing his fingertips to travel along his thin stomach and chest.

The shirt was completely off now, and Dallas had pulled George back up for another kiss, his lips travelling down the pale flesh of George's neck, down towards his chest and stomach as he lay George back down onto the roughly carpeted floor. Where was Wade to tell him how stupid this was?

But George knew this already -- he just didn't care.

"I love you, Dallas."

Who will keep me from lashing out?

It was like Dallas hadn't even heard that, His ignorance hurt George more than his physical abuse ever could. Why wouldn't Dallas say it back? Didn't this mean more to him then just cheap tricks?

George watched Dallas pull off his shirt, watched as Dallas leaned back up to kiss his lips again, as his rough calloused hands slid up George's soft white arms and into his hands, holding them down, pressing them against the carpet.

George squirmed from underneath Dallas, bending his knee as Dallas slid between his legs, got tangled up in him. Dallas was so close, George could feel his heartbeat, feel his breath against his neck and face. He wanted to be this close to Dallas always... but it was impossible. He already knew this.

Anxiety chokes me like a razor wire

George suddenly felt Dallas' teeth sink into his soft flesh, into his lip, the pain searing through him as a scream escaped from between his lips, one that Dallas acknowledged by biting down harder, biting to produce blood. George could taste it as it dripped into his mouth, as Dallas lapped it up, going as far as to stick his tongue in George's mouth. It still hurt, still overwhelmed George so much that he tried to push Dallas away. He tried to move his hands, but Dallas' grip was strong, and only got tighter as George continued to squirm, as George continued to thrust his body against Dallas'.

"Dallas!" he shouted, terrified as he felt Dallas' teeth in his neck, as he felt his own blood on his neck now, "Dallas!"

But still, Dallas pretended not to hear as he removed Geroge's belt, allowing George's hands some momentary freedom. But all George did was try and push Dallas off, failing. Now Dallas bound his wrists tightly with that belt, encasing George in the restraints of it.

"Dallas!" George shouted again, tears in his eyes as Dallas nibbled on the soft flesh, the thin flesh that covered the delicate are of his hips, as Dallas pulled at it with his teeth, hands slipping off the remainder of George's clothing.

Now it's all...

"Dallas! Stop..."

...in your hands

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded