[ sasuke is a liar. he has been through this before, these quietly deceptive moments of ill-defined clarity. it is laurent's own desperation getting the better of him, the loss of something he's never truly known. if he'd stayed with damen, it would have been the same. laurent had not been weaned off his capacity for trust — it had been taken from him with swift brutality, petals ripped from a flower barely open. even to have sasuke's fingers around his wrist now, a touch as innocent as this, comes at a high cost, his pulse quivering beneath the press of sasuke's thumb. ]
I've already shared your secrets. [ he speaks only when sasuke relinquishes his grip, turning to face him. he regrets it, now, after what he's seen, the image of the little boy running from his brother seared into his mind. some things should not be spoken aloud. ] Now you hold mine.
[ it should have been enough to deter sasuke, to disgust and revile. to put an end to all of this. and yet he says he wants to know more, and it stirs something in laurent, something beyond his expression, sitting just outside the range of his grasp. ]
You do know. [ bitterly — ] I fucked my uncle. And I miss the man who killed my brother. You are the only man alive who knows these two truths.
[ he lets that sit between them, lingering, then lifts a hand and touches sasuke's cheek once more, the one reddened from the strike of his hand. his touch is the mockery of a lover's caress. ]
I do despise you. [ his thumb moves to the bow of sasuke's lips, gently stroking, his gaze icy, revulsion reflecting his eyes. his heart feels unsteady, the air too thin for breath. ] You have no idea how much, but I promise you, you'll soon learn.
[ he retracts his hand and turns away, hoisting himself over the edge of the pool to walk immodestly to the table of clean towels, shaking one out and carefully drying himself off. he retrieves his clothes, taking care to fetch the pin from the pile first, and slips on his linen shirt, leaving the laces loose and trailing as he walks to one of the lounge seats and perches there, pulling his legs up and settling sasuke's cloak beside him. the moonlight hits him like a glistening statue, wrathful. ]
[The words, all of them, are spoken with malice at the end of a hammer. Laurent exposing the raw and hurting center of his two truths is so savage even he can tell that injury isn't meant for him. It's self-inflicted, a knife turned the other way around, tearing the fragile air between them. So Sasuke is the guardian of these two secrets; perhaps he won't be the only one to ever know or learn about Laurent, but it won't come willingly off his own tongue.
His cheek is sore when touched, throat working around a swallow at that pretend affection. There's anger in him, growing hot and sooty, but Sasuke doesn't chase it — and with the Shadow far from his mind, it is easier to retain control. He climbs out of the bath as if obeying the order, but his movements are unhurried, economical as he dresses, pulling on trousers and shoes first. His upper body remains wet and bare to the winter cold.]
'I'll soon learn'. What are you going to do? [Prowling closer, he looms above Laurent's perch.] If you're going to continue telling others what you know about me, to use it against me as you suspected I'd do to you, then you should know I've endured that all before. I don't care if people hate me.
[He can sense it better now — that he is attracted to Laurent. That is what he's feeling. The moment in the bath, skin to skin, had cemented it in a way he might have once repressed. Everything about Laurent feels sensual, and brutal, and somehow volatile; it's no wonder. Yet it's not something he can act on when the space between them is so littered with glass.]
I know what happened in your past. Your uncle raped you. [A common enough occurrence in the shinobi world; he isn't stupid.] What you feel toward your brother's killer is complicated, but I understand that too. Do you want me to suffer for this?
If it's violence you mean to return, do it now. Then we'll be even.
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I've already shared your secrets. [ he speaks only when sasuke relinquishes his grip, turning to face him. he regrets it, now, after what he's seen, the image of the little boy running from his brother seared into his mind. some things should not be spoken aloud. ] Now you hold mine.
[ it should have been enough to deter sasuke, to disgust and revile. to put an end to all of this. and yet he says he wants to know more, and it stirs something in laurent, something beyond his expression, sitting just outside the range of his grasp. ]
You do know. [ bitterly — ] I fucked my uncle. And I miss the man who killed my brother. You are the only man alive who knows these two truths.
[ he lets that sit between them, lingering, then lifts a hand and touches sasuke's cheek once more, the one reddened from the strike of his hand. his touch is the mockery of a lover's caress. ]
I do despise you. [ his thumb moves to the bow of sasuke's lips, gently stroking, his gaze icy, revulsion reflecting his eyes. his heart feels unsteady, the air too thin for breath. ] You have no idea how much, but I promise you, you'll soon learn.
[ he retracts his hand and turns away, hoisting himself over the edge of the pool to walk immodestly to the table of clean towels, shaking one out and carefully drying himself off. he retrieves his clothes, taking care to fetch the pin from the pile first, and slips on his linen shirt, leaving the laces loose and trailing as he walks to one of the lounge seats and perches there, pulling his legs up and settling sasuke's cloak beside him. the moonlight hits him like a glistening statue, wrathful. ]
Get out.
no subject
His cheek is sore when touched, throat working around a swallow at that pretend affection. There's anger in him, growing hot and sooty, but Sasuke doesn't chase it — and with the Shadow far from his mind, it is easier to retain control. He climbs out of the bath as if obeying the order, but his movements are unhurried, economical as he dresses, pulling on trousers and shoes first. His upper body remains wet and bare to the winter cold.]
'I'll soon learn'. What are you going to do? [Prowling closer, he looms above Laurent's perch.] If you're going to continue telling others what you know about me, to use it against me as you suspected I'd do to you, then you should know I've endured that all before. I don't care if people hate me.
[He can sense it better now — that he is attracted to Laurent. That is what he's feeling. The moment in the bath, skin to skin, had cemented it in a way he might have once repressed. Everything about Laurent feels sensual, and brutal, and somehow volatile; it's no wonder. Yet it's not something he can act on when the space between them is so littered with glass.]
I know what happened in your past. Your uncle raped you. [A common enough occurrence in the shinobi world; he isn't stupid.] What you feel toward your brother's killer is complicated, but I understand that too. Do you want me to suffer for this?
If it's violence you mean to return, do it now. Then we'll be even.