Categories > Anime/Manga > Gungrave
Possession
Harry's growing more and more possessive of Brandon and not liking the fact that Big Daddy's influence on his friend grows stronger by the day.
?Blocked
"Harry!" Came the whispered plea, hunger evident in each syllable.
"I know, just a little more, let yourself go Brandon, let your body scream for me." The words were spoken hoarsely as if the speaker was nearing his own culmination. Strong fingers that once carried calluses moved sinuously over a heated wet spine, while the body beneath Harry's shuddered with every deep thrust it was given.
This was the closest to free he felt, here in the darkness, slipping within his best friend's body. ...Brandon's heartbeat -- or was that his own? -- Or maybe... their heartbeats were moving so quickly they'd somehow synchronized.
A sort of whimsical smile flashed on Harry's lips which turned to a moan. Brandon's body tightend the muscles around his cock.
Harry was obsessed with power, because power meant freedom. It meant never being weak, never being at someone else's whim, at someone else's mercy, to give and receive at his own whims, without pain, without fear. But here in the dark, with heated breaths, and whispered words, Harry found another sort of freedom. The freedom to be himself, to drop all masks. The freedom to stop guarding every word, freedom from always looking for an angle to better himself.
With Brandon he could simply be, could simply give and receive pleasure with nothing asked in return.
With Brandon he was never judged, never found wanting for his faults. Harry never lied to himself, he knew he could be cruel, he knew he was extremely ambitious, knew he was ruthless. He did things that Brandon didn't like, conned women and men alike to continue to feather his own nest. But Brandon never said anything, simply stood by Harry no matter what.
Brandon was the only person Harry had ever really and truly loved. Brandon belonged to Harry, they both knew this. Harry never had to tell Brandon, his friend simply knew it. Just as Harry knew Brandon loved him as well.
They were men of actions, not necessarily of words with one another.
Harry'd never worried about others coming between them, not even Maria, well, not very much. When Brandon had first helped the woman, and then seemed to fall for the pretty blonde. Harry had moments where he'd almost hated her. But as time went on he was able to make sure no one ever realized how he'd felt, and he'd watched as Brandon and Maria never seemed to get any further than close friends.
Harry'd begun to keep an eye out for the blonde as well, because he knew that she meant something special to Brandon.
When they'd both joined the syndicate and had been separated, it nearly killed Harry how much he missed Brandon's quiet presence. But it was because of this that he stayed away from his childhood friend. He wanted to rise as fast as he could in Millenion, and from there he'd pull his friend along with him.
If he was in a position where he could call a shot or two, he'd be able to better care for Brandon, and besides that, he could also build himself his own network of people and get things moving faster for himself. And Brandon.
But all that had come to pass and now he and Brandon were part of Big Daddy's family. Of course it helped that Brandon was quite close to Big Daddy.
Harry had had qualms about telling Brandon about Maria being taken into Big Daddy's family. But ever the opportunist, he'd guessed that Brandon and Maria would meet up and from there Brandon with his quiet way would worm himself into Big Daddy's domain. And from there bring Harry with him when he was able.
His thoughts began to blur, slipping into darkness as his thrusts became harder, fingers digging into Brandon's hips, making the other man cry out and push back.
A bit of rage began to fill Harry and it was manifesting itself in his thrusts. He didn't want to hurt Brandon, but some dark urge pushed him to try.
Lately Brandon was showing signs of following Big Daddy's teachings a little too closely. Harry was getting a feeling that Brandon was slipping from his fingertips. The Iron clad law, and all that bullshit about harmony. Some days it took everything Harry had not to laugh outright into that old man's face.
Harry was glad Brandon was on his hands and knees and unable to see his lover's face. He could feel his facial muscles sitting in a glower of anger and disgust.
Brandon had always been the better man between the two of them, always doing what he felt was right. Through the years Harry'd watched his best friend, his lover, lose his innocence, lose bits of his soul as he became the number one sweeper of Millenion. It had killed a bit of Harry each time Brandon's outward persona reflected the changes that were happening on the inside.
His once nearly silent friend now had words with bite, and words with frosted edges when he spoke, was now a known ruthless killer in many eyes. Was feared and respected, and yet his men followed loyally because behind the scenes he took care of their needs, helping with medical bills for family, handling cases almost morally. Brandon never pushed his men into things he himself would not do. He was always first on the scene when needed, or warranted.
Brandon would get jobs done, but he'd only kill minimally. No innocents in any way.
Harry was thankful for this and yet frustrated at the same time. Thankful that Brandon wasn't losing all of himself, and yet frustrated because he knew it was that damned old man's influence and not his own.
Big Daddy was sinking claws deeper and deeper into what belonged to Harry and he didn't like it one bit.
Shaking as he could feel sweat sliding down his chest, falling onto Brandon's hips as he bent over his lover, he bit the other man's shoulder, marking him. Harry let go of his thoughts and delved into the body beneath his, feeling the familiar shudders of his long-time lover's impending climax.
The tightness surrounding him left him gasping as he listened to Brandon's hoarse half-shout into the darkness, echoed by his own as he too followed close behind.
He continued to give quick small erratic thrusts, more as aftershocks rather than anything else.
Falling onto the body that collapsed under his weight, he smiled as his cheek lay on rapidly cooling and drying skin, the heartbeat beginning to slow down as Brandon took gulps of air to calm it.
Harry didn't move off of his lover, his Brandon, right away, instead he continued to lay possessively on top, a finger moving over skin before his face, placing his initials there, as if they'd stay marked come daylight.
He started to lift his head when he felt the heartbeat below him slow and he could hear a light snore coming from Brandon. He smiled and leaned forward placing a soft kiss on a shoulder blade before getting out of bed to clean himself up.
Once he was done, he walked over to the dresser where he'd had the foresight to place a decanter of bourbon, one that was bottled the year he was born. He poured a bit into a snifter and carried the glass over toward the huge window looking out at the city lights below him.
Someday soon he'd own the whole city, it would be his and he'd be free.
No one would take that from him, just like no one would take Brandon from him.
Not even Brandon.
"I know, just a little more, let yourself go Brandon, let your body scream for me." The words were spoken hoarsely as if the speaker was nearing his own culmination. Strong fingers that once carried calluses moved sinuously over a heated wet spine, while the body beneath Harry's shuddered with every deep thrust it was given.
This was the closest to free he felt, here in the darkness, slipping within his best friend's body. ...Brandon's heartbeat -- or was that his own? -- Or maybe... their heartbeats were moving so quickly they'd somehow synchronized.
A sort of whimsical smile flashed on Harry's lips which turned to a moan. Brandon's body tightend the muscles around his cock.
Harry was obsessed with power, because power meant freedom. It meant never being weak, never being at someone else's whim, at someone else's mercy, to give and receive at his own whims, without pain, without fear. But here in the dark, with heated breaths, and whispered words, Harry found another sort of freedom. The freedom to be himself, to drop all masks. The freedom to stop guarding every word, freedom from always looking for an angle to better himself.
With Brandon he could simply be, could simply give and receive pleasure with nothing asked in return.
With Brandon he was never judged, never found wanting for his faults. Harry never lied to himself, he knew he could be cruel, he knew he was extremely ambitious, knew he was ruthless. He did things that Brandon didn't like, conned women and men alike to continue to feather his own nest. But Brandon never said anything, simply stood by Harry no matter what.
Brandon was the only person Harry had ever really and truly loved. Brandon belonged to Harry, they both knew this. Harry never had to tell Brandon, his friend simply knew it. Just as Harry knew Brandon loved him as well.
They were men of actions, not necessarily of words with one another.
Harry'd never worried about others coming between them, not even Maria, well, not very much. When Brandon had first helped the woman, and then seemed to fall for the pretty blonde. Harry had moments where he'd almost hated her. But as time went on he was able to make sure no one ever realized how he'd felt, and he'd watched as Brandon and Maria never seemed to get any further than close friends.
Harry'd begun to keep an eye out for the blonde as well, because he knew that she meant something special to Brandon.
When they'd both joined the syndicate and had been separated, it nearly killed Harry how much he missed Brandon's quiet presence. But it was because of this that he stayed away from his childhood friend. He wanted to rise as fast as he could in Millenion, and from there he'd pull his friend along with him.
If he was in a position where he could call a shot or two, he'd be able to better care for Brandon, and besides that, he could also build himself his own network of people and get things moving faster for himself. And Brandon.
But all that had come to pass and now he and Brandon were part of Big Daddy's family. Of course it helped that Brandon was quite close to Big Daddy.
Harry had had qualms about telling Brandon about Maria being taken into Big Daddy's family. But ever the opportunist, he'd guessed that Brandon and Maria would meet up and from there Brandon with his quiet way would worm himself into Big Daddy's domain. And from there bring Harry with him when he was able.
His thoughts began to blur, slipping into darkness as his thrusts became harder, fingers digging into Brandon's hips, making the other man cry out and push back.
A bit of rage began to fill Harry and it was manifesting itself in his thrusts. He didn't want to hurt Brandon, but some dark urge pushed him to try.
Lately Brandon was showing signs of following Big Daddy's teachings a little too closely. Harry was getting a feeling that Brandon was slipping from his fingertips. The Iron clad law, and all that bullshit about harmony. Some days it took everything Harry had not to laugh outright into that old man's face.
Harry was glad Brandon was on his hands and knees and unable to see his lover's face. He could feel his facial muscles sitting in a glower of anger and disgust.
Brandon had always been the better man between the two of them, always doing what he felt was right. Through the years Harry'd watched his best friend, his lover, lose his innocence, lose bits of his soul as he became the number one sweeper of Millenion. It had killed a bit of Harry each time Brandon's outward persona reflected the changes that were happening on the inside.
His once nearly silent friend now had words with bite, and words with frosted edges when he spoke, was now a known ruthless killer in many eyes. Was feared and respected, and yet his men followed loyally because behind the scenes he took care of their needs, helping with medical bills for family, handling cases almost morally. Brandon never pushed his men into things he himself would not do. He was always first on the scene when needed, or warranted.
Brandon would get jobs done, but he'd only kill minimally. No innocents in any way.
Harry was thankful for this and yet frustrated at the same time. Thankful that Brandon wasn't losing all of himself, and yet frustrated because he knew it was that damned old man's influence and not his own.
Big Daddy was sinking claws deeper and deeper into what belonged to Harry and he didn't like it one bit.
Shaking as he could feel sweat sliding down his chest, falling onto Brandon's hips as he bent over his lover, he bit the other man's shoulder, marking him. Harry let go of his thoughts and delved into the body beneath his, feeling the familiar shudders of his long-time lover's impending climax.
The tightness surrounding him left him gasping as he listened to Brandon's hoarse half-shout into the darkness, echoed by his own as he too followed close behind.
He continued to give quick small erratic thrusts, more as aftershocks rather than anything else.
Falling onto the body that collapsed under his weight, he smiled as his cheek lay on rapidly cooling and drying skin, the heartbeat beginning to slow down as Brandon took gulps of air to calm it.
Harry didn't move off of his lover, his Brandon, right away, instead he continued to lay possessively on top, a finger moving over skin before his face, placing his initials there, as if they'd stay marked come daylight.
He started to lift his head when he felt the heartbeat below him slow and he could hear a light snore coming from Brandon. He smiled and leaned forward placing a soft kiss on a shoulder blade before getting out of bed to clean himself up.
Once he was done, he walked over to the dresser where he'd had the foresight to place a decanter of bourbon, one that was bottled the year he was born. He poured a bit into a snifter and carried the glass over toward the huge window looking out at the city lights below him.
Someday soon he'd own the whole city, it would be his and he'd be free.
No one would take that from him, just like no one would take Brandon from him.
Not even Brandon.
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