bury me

Didn't this guy know? If there's one thing a rat loved, it's wallowing in sludge. Lukas liked that spark in his eye, the throttle of his voice when he growled at him. The boy snickered, brushing loose strands outta that pretty face. He leaned in, clutching at the guy's jaw. This King of Brats jerked the man's hands to his hips, none the more sure than Lance what was happening. Who cared? "Don't imply I'm only as decent as the original," his muttered, teeth nipping his chin. "If you've never had a taste."

Surely, Lukas was well aware he was at a disadvantage. He was a smart kid that knew Lance would do no such thing. At least, not unless he could prod hard enough to wake the beast dormant inside him. His weight shifted, scooting closer until he sat flush with the other's warmth. Such a strong heat, always radiating like a sun. He kissed his lips, tasting remnants of pizza. The smell of onions, which made him smirk. Gross. He kissed him anyway, trailing along his jawline until he reached the end. His ear, exhaling against the inner-shell more to catch his breath than to entice him.


So close to his ear, though, that's where Lukas wanted to be when he whispered very gruffly, "Sin."

Lukas had already runaway, but that didn't mean he was searching for somewhere to stay. He liked Lance, or rather he liked what the man could do for him. Though, he appreciated the bits and pieces of his true personality, too. When he did mean things to Lukas, the brunette was always left wanting him to do more mean things to him. The little rat had been telling him all along what he wanted: nothing, everything, to get fucked up. Yet he hadn't been prepared to have his emotions attacked, his psyche toyed with, but it seemed that Lance was wounding himself in the process. It wasn't that Lukas looked or acted like anyone. It was that he was tearing the same feelings out of the man that he thought only the former someone could take.

Looking into his mismatched eyes, Lukas felt his heart cringe. He'd just been fucking with Lance, try to get a rise out of him. He always just sat there and took it, living through all his emotions as a passenger. "Fight," he said, his raw voice cracked from all the screaming in his own life. They were so much the same. Except Lukas never stopped fighting, while Lance had become idle. And maybe since he saw him, that sense of connection... like maybe in another life they belonged together, not really as lovers, or maybe not as friends. But Lukas felt a destiny with Lance, and it bothered him so much more than he realized that Lance wasn't here.

He gripped the collar of his shirt, twisting his knuckles up in it. "Fight me... so I don't have to..." Would that save him? Probably not. When someone pinned him against the wall, when someone screamed in his face. When someone else acted, there was always split second of a pause that gave the boy a moment of peace. A thoughtful moment, whether it meant he would fight or scream back, but a moment nonetheless that he was so enveloped in what had happened, he forgot everything and lost his mind. A reaction in development, that floored feeling before the action itself.

He was just fucking with Lance before, but he kept asking the same damn question and Lukas had to keep considering what it was he wanted. Why? Between all the lies and the pretty words, he tried to surmise the answer in his best words. "What the fuck does anyone want that sits in your lap, Lance?" He growled, "Why does anyone trail their lips across your jaw? Why? Why are the shittiest people nice to you? Why do they put your hands on their waist? You idiot," Lukas huffed in exasperation. It really pissed him off, this guy was so fucking stupid. "Stop fucking with me and take your clothes off!"

Back against the wall, he squirmed like a snake in the man's grip. That hand on his neck, planted firmly. His teeth clenched, though choked out a throaty growl. Animals, one striped and one spotted. Lukas was fucking with him, but that didn't mean he couldn't tell the truth. Even with lies, the best of them held some matter of truth. What he wanted from Lance could have been coaxed out of anyone else, though his resistance was what made Lukas so persistent. You want the things you can't have, right?

Whatever were his intentions, it didn't seem fair that Lance seemed to think he was the only one being taken for a ride. The kid stared into his eyes, at that moment recalling a story his mom had told him when he was young. A little girl, when she broke her favorite toy, a fairy appeared that granted her a toy that would never break. She played with it, and played with it, and when it broke it became something else. When she became bored, she'd break it again. Break after break, until it became a balloon and drifted away.

Lukas smirked at the latter, "'til one of us breaks."