Closer

Closer
By Kami-chan
Song: Nine Inch Nails – Closer
Fandom: Weiss Kruez
Pairing: Nagi/Omi
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Yaoi, of course. Lemon is always good, yes? And harsh language too, my dears. Not a bit of the kiddies at all.
Disclaimers: Don’t own the song, don’t own the show, not making money off the story. We’ve done this song and dance before.
Notes: I’m so mean to Nagi. ;.; One-shot, no spoilers as far as I can tell, and if I’ve gotten any of the lyrics wrong, please tell me. I’ve been addicting like a crackwhore to this song ever since I saw the video. *spaz* It’s so weird, yet… so sexy. X.x;;
Enjoy!
***

I’ll be the first person to admit I’m not the healthiest boy in the world -- dearie no, not in any sense of the word. Physically, I’m a weak little rat. I look into the mirror at night, and I’m disgusted. I see the scrawny, sickening form of a teenage boy not even peaked in puberty. I’m so thin that I can count every one of my ribs. My face is still that of a young boy’s, with chocolate eyes and wispy shit-brown hair; thin hair that doesn’t even match the dark, downy hairs between my legs. Not a hair to be found on my chest or legs. I’m disgusting. Shouldn’t a 14-year-old boy be further developed than this?

As far as mental health, I’m even worse off. Schuldig will be the first to tell you that I am – in his ever-so-charming terms – “a sick little faggot.” He’s one to speak of faggots, banging away on Brad like he does, but I digress. Why? Because of the pornography I keep on my computer? Those sweet little boys chained up and raped against a brick wall? The fact that most of my time is spent in my bedroom? The fact that I like boys? The fact that a certain redhead can’t keep himself occupied unless he’s picking about in someone else’s head? Again, I digress.

More than likely, Schuldig keeps coming back for more because he likes what he sees. My little mindfucks; those private inner-most thoughts and desires that every person has. Those sick, twisted fantasies that we don’t want anyone to know we have. After all, what kind of good, God-fearing person would have such thoughts? Surely, one would go to hell straight away for admitting to them.

Indeed, I believe Schuldig enjoys them. He enjoys sneaking into my mind while I’m alone in my bedroom. He enjoys watching as I mentally abuse that beautiful Weiss bitch. He watches with sick fascination as I push him onto my bed and have my way with him for hours on end. Then, just as he knows my hand is heading down my pants, he bursts into my bedroom and proceeds to tell me what a sick little fuck I am.

I really should get a lock for my door.

{You let me violate you
You let me desecrate you
You let me penetrate you
You let me complicate you}

Oh yes, if only my mindfucks could be real. If only I had that gorgeous boy for myself. I’d finally have something all my own. His beautiful blue eyes, his shining blonde hair, his lips, his flesh, his muscles – they would all be mine. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he’s a wonderful boy. I’m sure that such an innocent little kitten would have the personality of an angel. I’m simply interested at this point in his more aesthetically pleasing features.

My insomnia is all his fault. I wouldn’t call it an obsession precisely – I simply think about him obsessively. I can’t sleep at night and always somehow find myself in front of the Kittens’ flower shop, staring up at the window that I know is his. It would be so easy. My powers could float me right up to that window – open to allow breezes in the damp heat of summer – and I could have my way with that beautiful boy then and there.

I don’t expect him to show me love. Creatures like me – creatures that wander the night – cannot expect love from an angel like that. So I’ll settle for fucking him raw. It will serve as a temporary distraction at the very least.

{(Help me) I’m broke upon my insides
(Help me) I’ve got no soul to sell
(Help me) The only thing that works for me…
Help me get away from myself}

I can only stare at the sheer drapes fluttering in the wind for so long. My feet leave the ground and I glide up to his window, slipping inside quickly and finding a vaguely comfortable perch on the sill. My stomach is doing somersaults as I lift my head, staring at the bed. He’s there. He’s lying in bed as naturally as I’ve ever seen him. Spread out on his stomach, hugging the pillow with both arms, sheets barely hiding his nude bottom from my wandering eyes. Beautiful. He looks like the some statuesque Leonardo sculpture, put here solely for my viewing pleasure.

I want it immediately. I want everything I can see, and everything I can’t. I want his flesh, I want his skin, I want to bury myself in him and fuck all my pain away, I want him in my mouth so I can suck all of his away too. And now I realize with a quiet sob – I want him to tell me that he loves me. I want it so badly that I can feel a dull throb of heartache in my chest.

{ I wanna’ fuck you like an animal
I wanna’ feel you from the inside
I wanna’ fuck you like an animal
My whole existence is flawed
You get me closer to God}

Slowly, he lifts his head, staring at me – no, staring through me. His head is still groggy with the confusion of being woken from sleep. Realization begins to dawn on him slowly, I can see it in his pretty face. I move quickly to his side, seizing his lips, covering his mouth with my own before he can fully comprehend what’s happening to him.

Surprisingly, his arms move around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him – against his completely nude body, beckoning me. My mind blanks for a brief moment at this unexpected acceptance. Gradually, I adjust to the feeling, moving one arm beneath the other’s body, supporting his smooth lower back as my tongue crept out from between my lips, dancing over the silken flesh that heralded the entrance of his mouth. Again I found welcome as he parted for me, sucking me into him and closing his lips around my tongue. I have to say, I didn’t expect angelic little Omi to be such a killer kisser.

Much to my dismay, he tugs his lips away after only a few moments of this blissful torture. He pulls away just enough that his eyes – beautifully blue and endlessly clear – penetrate my own, staring hard into my very soul, searching for answers that wouldn’t be found in my own dark hues. Then suddenly, he speaks. Such a beautiful voice, soothing as honey to a burning throat, and with words so comforting I thought I might cry.

“I love you, Nagi-kun…”

Suddenly, I don’t want it. Suddenly, I want to give it to him. I want to give him the world, I want him to have it all. All the sappy images of a bad romantic movie danced through my head – dinner by candlelight, making love on satin sheets, white wedding, honeymoon in Paris, an eternity side-by-side. I want to give him my pain only to take both of ours away again. I want him to have my heart and my body alike. I want to give him every reason I can to love me forever and longer.

{You can have my isolation
You can have the heat that it brings
You can have my absence of faith
You can have my everything}

Before I can register what’s happening, Omi has begun to disrobe me. Stripping me so easily of every defense I had, just like it seemed he always did. My clothing fell article by article onto the floor, the heavy cotton making a soft ruffling as it landed – first my shirt, then my jeans as I kicked my boots away. Omi seems surprised for a moment to find that I wore nothing beneath my jeans, an expression that makes me smirk. Is he under the false pretenses that I’m some kind of angel?

Without resistance, he lifts his pale legs over my shoulders, knees hooked over them as I slowly lift his bottom from the bed. My hands wander beneath him to the soft globes of his rear, spreading them slowly and positioning myself at the entrance. For just a moment, this moment, everything is perfect. The stars have aligned, the moon and planets and the entire universe has halted simply so that we can share this. I’m not Nagi, the telekinetic murderer, and he’s not Omi the heartless assassin. We are lovers, we are free. We are sharing just one moment together, just three simple words.

{(Help me) You tear down my reason
(Help me) It’s your sex I can smell
(Help me) You make me perfect
Help me think I’m somebody else}

“I love you, Omitchi…”

“I love you, Nagi-ku-“

“OI! NAGI! YOU SICK LITTLE FUCK!”

I feel tears welling up in my eyes.

“Damnit, Schuldig…”

~END~