What We Can’t Have
folder
Naruto › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
920
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Naruto › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
920
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
What We Can’t Have
Disclaimer: Copyright infringement (or copyright violation) is the unauthorized use of material that is covered by copyright law, in a manner that violates one of the original copyright owner's exclusive rights, such as the right to reproduce or perform the copyrighted work, or to make derivative works. (Definition filched from Wikipedia.) So yeah, I’m aware that I’m infringing on copyrights here, but it’s done with only the intention of promoting enjoyment of the anime and manga. So if intention means anything to all owners and licensers of the original material I beg you to please not sue me.
AN: Hey. This is my first post here and only my third completed drabble. Thank you for reading it and I ask that you please not be to cruel with your reviews. I have a very fragile ego.
~~~
I gasp sharply as the pleasure of his mouth on me approaches painful. Taking my cue his mouth slows before disappearing completely. I hear myself moan at the loss of sensation but it doesn’t sound like me, doesn’t feel like my lips parting to let the breath escape. I’m far away from this sensation, this room, this body above mine bringing me to the edge of bliss then back again. Then his hands are on my face, in my hair. His thumbs are stroking my cheeks and his lips are kissing my eyes taking away the moisture with too much tenderness, too much long-suppressed emotion. I can’t bear the weight of that emotion. It reminds me of my selfishness and asks me for something I can’t give. I can only give him this moment of desire, and take my own pleasure from him.
I roll us over grinding myself against him harshly to show him I’m done with teasing and tender emotion-filled kisses. I push myself onto him in one slow motion and as he fills me I can almost pretend that this is more that an act of pleasure. I sigh once we’re fully joined, taking a moment to just treasure the feel of him inside me. I have to start moving soon, before my mind comes back to reality. The pace starts slow but it doesn’t stay that way for long. We’re working frantically with each other to reach oblivion. It doesn’t last long. All too soon I hear him calling out my name and I call out as well. As soon as the name leaves my throat I know my mistake.
We both lay there panting for several long moments then his hands are on my face again. His thumbs are stroking my cheeks and his lips kissing away the moisture again with that oppressive tenderness. I cry in earnest now as he offers comfort that only sharpens the pain.
“Do you love him?” The question catches me off guard although it shouldn’t. I knew it was coming eventually. I can feel from the tenseness of his body pressed against mine that he’s waiting for the answer he knows is the truth while hoping for the lie he wants to hear. I give him neither. “I really am just his replacement then.”
I look over him. His looks are so close. Light skin, dark hair and eyes. His voice even has a similar timbre to it. At the same time though, he’s slightly off. His skin’s too pale, his hair lacks the lustrous blue tint and his eyes are like pools of ink with no chance of change. Worst of all, his voice is too calm, too smooth to really compare to the powerful emotional tones that he had.
“You’re you and he’s him. I wouldn’t want that to change.”
He ponders this half truth for a moment before deciding that he’s satisfied with my answer. Tonight we’ll both sleep dreaming about what we can’t have.
AN: Hey. This is my first post here and only my third completed drabble. Thank you for reading it and I ask that you please not be to cruel with your reviews. I have a very fragile ego.
~~~
I gasp sharply as the pleasure of his mouth on me approaches painful. Taking my cue his mouth slows before disappearing completely. I hear myself moan at the loss of sensation but it doesn’t sound like me, doesn’t feel like my lips parting to let the breath escape. I’m far away from this sensation, this room, this body above mine bringing me to the edge of bliss then back again. Then his hands are on my face, in my hair. His thumbs are stroking my cheeks and his lips are kissing my eyes taking away the moisture with too much tenderness, too much long-suppressed emotion. I can’t bear the weight of that emotion. It reminds me of my selfishness and asks me for something I can’t give. I can only give him this moment of desire, and take my own pleasure from him.
I roll us over grinding myself against him harshly to show him I’m done with teasing and tender emotion-filled kisses. I push myself onto him in one slow motion and as he fills me I can almost pretend that this is more that an act of pleasure. I sigh once we’re fully joined, taking a moment to just treasure the feel of him inside me. I have to start moving soon, before my mind comes back to reality. The pace starts slow but it doesn’t stay that way for long. We’re working frantically with each other to reach oblivion. It doesn’t last long. All too soon I hear him calling out my name and I call out as well. As soon as the name leaves my throat I know my mistake.
We both lay there panting for several long moments then his hands are on my face again. His thumbs are stroking my cheeks and his lips kissing away the moisture again with that oppressive tenderness. I cry in earnest now as he offers comfort that only sharpens the pain.
“Do you love him?” The question catches me off guard although it shouldn’t. I knew it was coming eventually. I can feel from the tenseness of his body pressed against mine that he’s waiting for the answer he knows is the truth while hoping for the lie he wants to hear. I give him neither. “I really am just his replacement then.”
I look over him. His looks are so close. Light skin, dark hair and eyes. His voice even has a similar timbre to it. At the same time though, he’s slightly off. His skin’s too pale, his hair lacks the lustrous blue tint and his eyes are like pools of ink with no chance of change. Worst of all, his voice is too calm, too smooth to really compare to the powerful emotional tones that he had.
“You’re you and he’s him. I wouldn’t want that to change.”
He ponders this half truth for a moment before deciding that he’s satisfied with my answer. Tonight we’ll both sleep dreaming about what we can’t have.