Another quick challenge I did for Contrelamontre
Something Hurried 1/1
CHALLENGE- Soundtrack, 30 min
TIME TAKEN- 35 min, oops
SUMMARY- Louis still mortal drunk in an alley.
AUTHOR'S NOTE- Written to Black Sabbath's Tomorrow's Dream... but very badly, I don't think it fits the mood very well at all.
DISCLAIMER- Yup, Mater's, not mine. No money. Don't sue.
Louis leant his forehead against the damp wall, trying to catch his breath. His heart was beating too fast, he could feel the thick pulse in his neck, and his skin felt both too hot, drawn tight across his bones, and frigid, moist with sweat.
He swallowed, tasting alcohol, raw and bitter in his throat.
Hands wrapped around him from behind, small hands, feminine hands, with thick rings and paste stones, the nails cracked, bitten down to the quick. Go away, he slurred.
The hands remained, roaming quickly across him, a quick grope to search out a purse.
Go away, he repeated, pushing back suddenly. He heard the whore fall, falling back into the mud, heard her let loose a long stream of expletives, but didn’t turn to look.
He could smell moss on the wall, the damp rotten sweetness.
Paul.
He bit his lip.
Paul.
He could taste blood.
He squeezed his eyes shut. Hands were on him again, different hands, hands that were larger, colder, male. They moved with surety but little speed. Go away.
The hands turned him around, letting him lean back against the wall.
Go away. He couldn’t see the person in front of him, not properly, the face was a blur, all fuzzy around the edges, but there was blond hair and pale, pale skin. Go away, he said again, softer this time, dropping his gaze to the ground.
The hands tugged him forward and all his weight rested on the figure.
Louis kept silent as the hands started to move again, listening to the harsh sound of his breath panting. The hands ghosted over him, not on bare skin yet, more skimming over the layers of cotton and silk. One cupped the back of his head, angling it for a long, deep kiss.
Not here, Louis heard himself gasp.
The figure didn’t reply, but kissed him again, harsher, more direct.
Please.
The hands were getting rougher, moving too swift for him to have time to react. His clothes were loosened, permitting touches that were cold and hard. Louis’ head spun and the world seemed to dip, he wondered if it was the alcohol, or maybe just the power of this man.
Too much. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to hold himself upright, trying to keep himself from breaking, from shattering. Too soon. He let out a low cry, his body shuddering.
He heard the man chuckle, hands still sweeping over twitching limbs.
He was kissed again.
Go away, he found his voice, and groped backwards for the wall to hold him upright. Go. Leave. He fumbled for the purse tied to his waist, he flung money at the man.
He heard him laugh again and then there was silence.
He sank to the ground. He pulled his arms about his chest. Go away, he whispered.
***
Pige -x-