InsaneJournal

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Never over.
Harder, better, faster, stronger…

N-now that don't kill me.
Can only make me stronger.
I need you to hurry up now,
‘Cause I can't wait much longer

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Fayt lost the track of time in the 4D universe; it felt as though he had been living with Luther for a long time. He found it odd that he hadn’t done much for himself and had stayed by Luther’s side like the Creator had demanded of him. Sometimes he wondered why he didn’t leave; why couldn’t he kill Luther while he had the chance? A part of him knew that he could have taken Luther on his own, especially with his powers.

And yet, he did nothing.

He blamed it on the fact that he’d been Luther’s puppet for at least a week, so even after Luther had freed him, he still complied to Luther’s demands. They had worked on a new universe together, Luther ordering him to do so-and-so, and Fayt doing whatever he was told. There was even one time that Luther had asked something of him and Fayt had answered and given his advice. That was only one time though, and he knew he was on his own because Blair hadn’t intervened.

Once again, he wondered why.

Maybe he didn’t need any help. Did he know what he was doing? He thought about his escape for a long time, but with his own universe deleted, with his friends gone and with nowhere else to go, it was pointless. If he tried to leave, Luther would find him, use that stupid program called P.C. and make him like a puppet again. He had nothing to lose but himself, which made him reckless. Did Luther even needed him if he were to self-destruct?

“What are you thinking, Fayt?” Luther inquired, snapping him out of his musings. Fayt gazed at his Creator, who was adorned in his black night clothes. It was night time in the 4D space, the moon rising and shining from the window of his Creator’s spacious bedroom.

Fayt shook his head and joined him on Luther’s comfy bed. This was another thing that Luther had demanded from him; he became more than a weapon or a toy; he had also become his bed partner, ridiculous and degrading as it was. Once again he blamed it on the fact that he had been Luther’s puppet, so he was used to doing whatever Luther wanted, and strangely enough, Luther hadn’t done anything that he hated recently, except this. 

“Are you sure about that?” Luther asked, smirking slightly and eyes gleaming. “You always think too much,” he went on, gesturing for Fayt to move closer to him. Fayt obeyed, and he, who was also adorned in his night clothes, let himself sink into Luther’s warm arms. He refused to look at his Creator, so he rested his chin against the curve of Luther’s shoulder, sighing in deep regret.

Luther wouldn’t have that. Skilled hands skimmed his body, one hand slipping past his shirt, caressing his skin and making him shudder. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the gentle touches. Luther wasn’t supposed to be like this, demanding more than he could give. He had given his body and his mind, but he didn’t give his soul and his heart. Never.

“It’s useless,” Luther murmured into his ear, “you cannot hide anything from me.” He shifted, cupping Fayt’s chin and looking at his face. Fayt gazed at him again and shivered at the possessive gleam and the growing lust in his eyes. He didn’t understand it. Luther had fought against him, had used him like a tool, and now… why in the world would Luther use him for this? Wasn’t Luther above that sort of behavior?

Or maybe Luther was just like him, a human?

He hadn’t seen Luther interact with the other people of his kind save for the meetings, but those were necessary since he was the president of the Sphere Company. He only talked to his coworkers whenever there was something to be done, but other than that, that was it. Nobody dared to approach him unless they had to give or inform him of something. The hatred and fear in their eyes disgusted Fayt. He might have surrendered and accepted defeat, but he never feared or hated Luther-- at least for now.

“Do you remember the first time I’ve taken you?” Luther purred, tilting Fayt’s head to the side and giving him a soft kiss. Fayt closed his eyes again, yielding to Luther, letting the older man’s tongue invade his mouth. He moaned softly, wrapping his arms against his Creator’s neck, arousal slowly spreading throughout his body. “You were passive,” Luther continued, somewhat annoyed, “another form of resistance.” His other hand began to play with Fayt’s blue hair, making him shiver again.

“You took me against my will,” Fayt whispered, but there was no anger or hatred in his voice, only his strength and his reserve, breaking through that spell. He was strong and if he lived through this, he would become stronger. Luther shook his head and laughed, kissing him again. This time, it was more intense, teeth biting and pulling on Fayt’s bottom lip. He groaned, feeling Luther’s hand tugging on his hair.

It dawned to him that Luther needed him.

Creation wouldn’t exist without Destruction after all.

“You were willing,” Luther enunciated as he broke the kiss, blue eyes burning. “You could have left, you could have denied and defied me, but--”

“You knew I couldn’t,” Fayt argued, his hands falling to Luther’s sides, snaking around his waist. With his destructive powers, he sometimes heard voices and had urges, wanting to destroy and kill, but he held it back because he was afraid. He wouldn’t be like Luther who had lost his control. “But maybe I can do that now.” He abruptly pulled away despite his body’s protest to remain near the warmth of another body.

Luther pulled him back, keeping Fayt close to himself. “Fayt,” he whispered, but Fayt shook his head again and tried not to feel guilty for even suggesting that he should leave. It should have been right that he left though. “You wouldn’t dare,” he murmured, shifting his body again and pinning Fayt below him, “because you’re mine.”

Fayt shuddered again, hands fisting against the silky sheets. Luther took his time, divesting Fayt of his pants and boxers. Despite their brief argument, Fayt was still aroused, and Luther took advantage of that, trailing one of his hands into the insides of his thigh. His body suddenly arched, turning his head to the side. Luther chuckled and glanced at Fayt’s shirt.

Fayt knew what he wanted; in a matter of minutes, the shirt was gone, leaving him completely and utterly naked, but he didn’t feel vulnerable, because he wasn’t the one who truly wanted this. And what was this? A joining of two bodies? Physical contact? Sex? A proof of Luther’s power over him?

Soon Luther’s clothes were gone. He leaned down, pressing his body against Fayt’s, rubbing against him. They both groaned at the contact, and Fayt watched as Luther quickened his pace, grabbing the lube from his drawers. He got rid of the top, stroked himself with the substance and looked at Fayt with desire clear in those blue pools.

He gestured at Fayt again, and Fayt spread his legs, letting Luther prepare him. They had done this quite a number of times, so it didn’t hurt as much as Luther pushed one, and then two, and three fingers inside of him. For once, he let himself truly enjoy the pleasure, his body pushing against Luther’s fingers, trying to make him find that spot. His body practically melted when Luther struck that spot and then Luther was smiling at him, like a predator.

But Fayt stood his ground and let Luther take him.

“The first time I took you,” Luther panted against his ear, gripping Fayt’s hips, fingers digging into skin. Fayt ignored the pain, holding onto Luther by his shoulders. “You were oddly… shy.” Fayt blushed; he knew Luther was stalling and teasing him with his words. He’d do the same, but he wasn’t that low. “It made me wonder,” Luther continued, thrusting in and out of him, groaning, “whether you were a virgin.”

Another blush, but Fayt held on, averting his gaze from Luther’s face.

“Fayt,” Luther said again, but there was something desperate in that voice, as though--

Luther slumped against him, his body convulsing. Fayt was still hard, but he took care of it, pushing Luther to the side and bringing his hand to his arousal. He stroked himself, trying to get himself off. He groaned in pleasure after he achieved his purpose and then looked at Luther, wondering.

His lover’s eyes were closed, his lips parted. Sweat dripped on his heated skin. Fayt felt his stomach flutter at the dreamy and ethereal look of his sleeping God. He touched Luther’s cheek and then pushed his golden bangs away from his face.

Beautiful, he found himself thinking, but he’s tragic.

Fin.

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I don't know if you got a man or not,
If you made plans or not,
If god put me in the plans or not…

Never over.
Harder, better, faster, stronger… 

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A/n: Based mostly on my dreams, the theme on real life (o.O scary), and inspired by that song…