Silence | Neko-chan

The first time that Hyde walked in on Gackt while he was bathing, Gackt was surprised. The time after that, he was still surprised, but that reaction was laced with anticipation, for he had learned the previous time just what to expect. The times after that, Gackt always greeted Hyde with open arms and parted lips.

Hyde, for his part, was never gentle. Gentleness was something that was learned over time, but Hyde had never been given that time to develop kindness and sensitivity to his sexual partners. He was harsh and demanding, crushing his mouth against Gackt’s while slamming the taller man’s body against the shower stall’s wall.

Their relationship was not made up of softly spoken words, of endearments, of promises of love and dedications of staying together forever. Simply put, their relationship was one that had lust and sex and physical attraction as its foundation. They shared very few common friends and even fewer common interests.

But they had sex and fucking—their coming together was never defined as ‘making love’—and that was enough to satisfy them both… for now, anyway.

The sixth time that Hyde had interrupted Gackt while he was showering, Gackt smiled at him and stepped aside, giving the other more room in the small space provided. “I didn’t know if you were coming tonight or not,” he had said softly.

But Hyde never said a word—he hadn’t before, either. His actions were reply enough: reaching upwards and tangling his hands in Gackt’s hair with a low moan starting in the back of his throat; he pressed their bodies together and the snow-white towel that had been wrapped around his waist was tossed to the floor, never standing a chance against Gackt’s insistent tugs upon the cloth. Their lips meshed—heat and desire and uncontrollable need--and Hyde thrust his tongue into Gackt’s mouth, his hips mirroring his tongue’s every movement.

It was always at this point that Gackt’s legs would buckle and Hyde’s fingers would tighten in his hair, forcibly keeping Gackt upright. Then Gackt would always whimper in a combination of pain and of lust, hands groping and gliding downwards over a water-slicked stomach towards Hyde’s groin.

And it was always at this point that both men would lose control: Hyde would push away from Gackt, his gaze heavy lidded, and hiss, “Knees. Down. Now.” Gackt would always comply, never uttering a word of defiance against Hyde’s command.

Their relationship was not based upon emotions, not even on the tightly winded tension that always came before sex, while both partners indulged in foreplay. Their relationship was comprised completely on the way that Gackt writhed beneath Hyde, the muffled screams as Hyde arched into Gackt over and over again, of the way that Gackt felt (warmtightinviting—don’twanttoeverstop) when Hyde finally reached his climax within him.

Hyde never gave Gackt a warning before he arched into the taller man—never prepared him, never distracted him so that the pain would be less and the pleasure would be more. It could be said that Hyde was a cruel lover—and that statement would be correct. But, as Gackt learned the hard way, each fuck had hurt less than the time before, and that the pain soon became part of the pleasure.

And that was part of their relationship, too: A mixture of pain and pleasure.

But that’s how they both wanted it; no other way would suffice.