x (xxkonstantinex) wrote in music_fiction,

.44 Caliber Love Letter

.44 Caliber Love Letter

Author: xxkonstantinex / shayminn
Pairing: George/Dallas
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I don't know them and this really couldn't have happened.

A/N: This was inspired by this. So read that, then this. Also, I'm going to dedicate this to the lovely xanemicroyaltyx 'cause she rocks. Wh00t!


Things always started this way between them. Every single time George stepped through the doorway of Dallas' apartment, every time he so much as spoke to him, they argued. Vicious exchanges of words normally followed by Dallas' sadistic way of making love. Yet, George kept coming back to him... how could he not come back? The man was unbelievably beautiful and increadibly talented.

George wanted Dallas.

George Pettit wanted to be Dallas Green.

Quietly, George used his key to unlock the door to Dallas' apartment and stepped in, shutting the door and tossing the keys on to the table in the front hall. Dallas wasn't expecting George at all...

"Dally? Hey, are you home?" George called, tossing his head so that his long bangs would leave his eyes, so he could see clearly.

"George? What the hell are you doing here?" Dallas spat, from the bathroom. When he emerged, he was just wearing a towel.

George felt the color rise in his cheeks as he stared at Dallas' wet body for a moment, his bright eyes raising now to meet Dallas' cold ones. George sighed softly, then shrugged his shoulders, allowing the tight band shirt he wore to ride up his stomach. Dallas loved George's tight band shirts.

"I just wanted to see you, Dallas."

"Well, you've seen me on several occasions--"

"Dallas, I haven't been alone with you for a week. I feel like you're hiding from me." George stated, sighing again as Dallas headed into his bedroom.

"So what? Why should I care, George? I don't care and neither should you."

George rolled his eyes as he walked over to Dallas' bedroom, leaning against the wall beside the door and falling silent. He could hear Dallas in the room, moving things around in his dresser. But George just stood there, hands in the pockets of his tight-in-the-crotch jeans, eyes lowered to his ratty old Converse.

"Should I just leave then, Dallas? Would that make you happy?" George asked quietly, liking how silent the room got, loving how it seemed Dallas was holding his breath and waiting for some sort of clue as to what George was doing.

"Fuck, George, just stay awhile. But get your skinny little ass in here." Dallas spat, sounding quite disturbed.

George obediantly followed Dallas' orders and promptly entered the room, taking a seat on Dallas' unmade bed. Dallas was wearing jeans. That was all... jeans and his glasses.

Dallas walked over to George, smiling as George gazed up at him, wearing a content smile. But Dallas' smile was a mocking smile... Dallas always seemed to be mocking George.

Dallas stopped once his thigh rested against the edge of the bed, smirking down at him before placing his hands on either of George's sides, removing the jean jacket George had on.

"Look at you, Goerge, all ready to go. I thought you wanted to stay?" Dallas asked, sitting with his knees on either side of George's legs, still holding George's sides.

"No, I do want to be here. I thought you didn't want me around."

"Psh. Don't get all emo on me, George. If I wanted to hear someone whine at me, I'd be listening to fucking Dashboard Confessional. Save it for someone who cares."

George growled, shaking his head and pushing against Dallas' chest. "That's it, Dallas! I've had enough of this... get off of me!" George shouted, pushing again.

Dallas laughed, shaking his head and pinning George to his bed. "Had enough of what?"

"You! You, Dallas, I've had enough..."

"But I thought you loved me?" Dallas asked, unmockingly for once.

George paused, gazing up into Dallas' eyes, falling limp against the bed, every muscle in his body relaxed. "I do."

"Then why do you want to go?" Dallas asked, leaning forwards to kiss George, "I want you to stay."

George grinned, kissing Dallas again, feeling Dallas getting rougher as a few minutes passed. Making out on Dallas' bed, Dallas' hand resting against his inner thigh, his own hands trapped at his sides. Dallas pulled away, his eyes full of lust as he watched George carefully, freeing his hands from his sides.

"Take it off." Dallas stated simply, delicately kissing George's neck, several times, "Come on, take it off for me..."

George consented, taking his top off and allowing Dallas to kiss at his slender chest and stomach, his hands now finding Dallas' hair as Dallas' head went down. This time, Dallas didn't ask George to pull off his jeans... je just did it himself, his right hand travelling to playfully tug on the elastic waistband of his boxers... as if to remind George that was all he had on.

George fell silent as Dallas made his way back up, nipping at George's soft flesh, causing the other to whimper... to almost moan. Dallas' pain was George's guilty pleasure.

Dallas was kissing George again, the fingers of his right hand dipping slightly under the waistband of the only article of clothing George had on, his other hand reaching into his own back pocket.

George froze at that, tilting his head to the side so that Dallas' lips were on his jawbone, and so that he could see what it was Dallas took from his pocket...

...a knife...

George gasped, quite audibly, this time using his knees to push Dallas away. The pocketknife fell to the floor and so did Dallas. George had scrambled to the other side of Dallas' bed, going for the telephone.

"What the fuck... Goerge, calm down!"

"Fuck off, Dallas!" George shouted, turning to glare over at Dallas, the phone reciever in his hand, "Get away from me!"

Dallas walked towards the exit of the room, stopping only to pull the phone cord from the wall. "George, don't try anything stupid."

George threw down the reciever, glaring at Dallas. "What do you want from me?!"

"Get on the bed. Lay down so that I can tie you down..." Dallas commanded, watching as George did so. Then he walked over, leaning down to gently kiss George's lips again, smiling before running a hand through George's hair.

"I love how good you are... and I love the way you taste when you're scared. I love the way you sweat, the way your chest heaves and your breath contracts." Dallas stated, softly stroking George's face with the side of the knife's blade, "But I don't love you."

George could feel the tear roll down his cheek, and without even thinking he grabbed the knife from Dallas, his palm getting torn open by the blade as he did so, his hurt turned to anger as he tossed the blade aside.

Dallas was clearly shocked by this, his blue eyes wide as he studied George, his eyes travelling as George's did once, his lips pulled into a twisted grin.

"You believe anything I tell you, don't you George?" he asked, laughing, "Look at you! Your hand is cut..."

"Fuck you, Dallas! Bastard, I wasted four years of my life with you, endured all this physical and mental abuse from you -- and all for nothing?!" George shouted, visibly shaking.

Dallas pushed at George's shoulder, trying to push him back down again. "George, I don't think you wasted anything."

"I loved you, Dallas."

Dallas sighed, shaking his head. "Bullshit. Let's just have sex and and go to sleep... George, you know you love the sex."

George paused, squeezing his eyes shut before he felt Dallas pull him close, before he felt Dallas kiss him. He kissed Dallas back, feeling one of Dallas' hands slip into his bloody one. He just wanted Dallas to love him...

Suddenly, Dallas threw George to the floor, causing him breif confusion before he realized Dallas was going for the knife on the floor... was Dallas trying to kill him?

Instead of lunging for the knife, George darted to the bedside table closest to him, pulling out from the drawer the .44 caliber Dallas had in there and turning to face him.

Dallas froze, watching the gun with a look of worry on his features. "George... listen, I didn't mean to hurt you... or lead you on or anything..."

"Shut the fuck up, Dallas!" George whispered, looking terrifying as he snarled at Dallas.

"George, please--"

"Shut the fuck up!" George repeated, shouting this time, his hands shaking as he faught to keep the gun still. He e could see Dallas, trembling in fear as he started to beg for his life. "You hurt me bad, Dallas Green. It's time you get what you deserve..."

"George! Don't... please!"

"I don't want to hear you!" Geroge screamed, clicking off the safety and squeezing out a few shots. He watched them tear through Dallas' chest, watched the blood seep from his lover as he dropped the metal to the floor, hearing it clatter on the ground but unable to comprehend the sound.

"...what have I done?"

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