~St John’s Sin~

by MistressAli

YAY! An angsty horrible yaoi lemon! This contains an overkill of swearing, violence, M/M and uh... unconcenting stuff, blah blah blah. Ya know ya want it. (And if you don’t, quit reading!)

‘all through the forest
above the trees
within my stomach
scraped off my knees
I drink the honey
inside your hive
you are the reason
I stay alive’

- Nine Inch Nails

“Where are we going?” Snively asked.

He had such a fucking annoying voice. I wanted to punch him. But didn’t. He’d probably only whine louder. So further we went. Into the woods, where fireflies and feeble moonlight couldn’t ever hope to illuminate. Our woods were so dark.

My feet knew the trails and I wasn’t worried. But he was scared.

“Geoffrey...”

“Shut up.” I turned my head and glared. His face was like a third light, so white it glowed. Furless skin I’d initially thought to be cold and clammy, like a newt’s. But it was warm and smelled...pleasant…

“No, let me go.” His voice was rising; he sounded pissed.

But still scared. What an insolent fuck. I ground my claws down into the arm I had captive.

“Oww!” Digging heels in, he tried to halt our progress, but puh...weak. I dragged him, stumbling over rocks and bramble. “You bastard! Let me the fuc…”

So I did. I punched him in the face and let go. He went sprawling onto the ground. Blood spilled from that pointed nose. Bawling. I hoped I hadn’t bruised his face…

“Get up.”

He seemed subdued for the moment, casting a glance with these scared-like eyes. They were big, like a baby’s. I groaned. Why should a baby’s eyes do this? Why should a fucking Overlander do this to me?!

We weren’t that far into the woods. I could’ve easily dragged him back to the village. I couldn’t see any fires or lights from the huts. It was like...we...me, a good Mobian, and he, a horrid Overlander...were cut off from the rest of the world.

Somehow it felt like there was no turning back. I had to go through with it now, eh? I looked at Snively’s face, his pouty lips. And I couldn’t help my tongue coming out and licking mine. Gods. I guess there really isn’t any going back now.

Maybe it was King Acorn who sealed my fate. When Snively came to Knothole. Fucking stupid, us. Letting him in. But he didn’t do anything, other than act like a smartass and give dirty looks. But what he’d done... We let him in. We let him live, but under supervision, of course, of course, and I was deemed the one to supervise. So I watched and watched.

And now all I could see in my head was Overlander, Overlander arms and legs, so long and skinny, and hairless and smelling so pleasant...

His tongue came out and licked his lips, nervously. Shivers hit me, like cold rain down my spine. No. Yes.

No, there was no turning back, yes.

“Ok, let’s go…” I went to grab his arm, but he pulled away. “Don’t fucking toy with me, Overlander.” I snagged him, pulling him along, and we went deeper and deeper. The woods swallowed us up, the trees, their rustling leaves covering us from the stars.

Isolated. So, on a desert island (or a wooded island, in this case?) who would I have for my only companion? Princess Sally? Gods. Her body, her face, her…

Or him. I had let him go again and he was leaning against a tree, with his eyes sort of accusing and his hands clutching the bark. He was thin and wore mismatched clothes and lovely knee high boots, and his skin glowed a disgustingly unnatural white, like grass under a rock. That should’ve seemed so fucking ugly. That skin without fur on it, that stupid strange face, all nose and big baby eyes.

And I just couldn’t fucking choose.

“What are we doing out here? Geoffrey? What…”

“SHUT UP.”

He bowed his head and let out a whimper. “Please, bring me back.” He looked around, cringing as an owl hooted.

“You’re pathetic, you know that, Snively?”

His head raised and he shot me a murderous look. I think he would’ve enjoyed it if it could’ve really hurt me, killed me. I was undaunted.

Let’s get to the point. The point. The point is something fucking sick. Could I tell anyone what I did? He was against the tree, glaring and opening his mouth to insult me, and I was on him, pushing him to the ground, my hands on his chest. His fear kicked in when I ripped off his shirt. He had scars and I added more artwork to that skin, bruises from fists.

No one can understand this anger. Why couldn’t I FUCKING CHOOSE? HIM OR SALLY? ON THAT FUCKING CLICHED DESERT ISLAND?!

HER HER HER! I fucking want her, don’t I, her teenaged body, her tight little cunt, shouldn’t I want to throw her down and ram myself into her, showing her how much more a man I was then Sonic?

But fuck, was I more a fucking man? Indecisive? I was weak.

And a traitor. Because I can’t love one of THEM.

Oh yeah, I was a good supervisor. The king had a good fucking mind, to choose me. I watched and watched, watched him like a hawk, or maybe a vulture. Just waiting to jump on the scraps of his mistakes, tearing him apart, and the little fucker made plenty of slip-ups and rude comments. TO HER. Sally. They didn’t get along. I made him bruise for that.

I could see them now, standing eye to eye and yelling. Fucking Overlander. Beautiful Mobian. FUCK. His body was lithe and his eyes...

My hands clenched on Snively’s furless bare shoulders and I glared down at him. His face was so pale against the dark dead leaves. The ground was moist. I was straddling him and he was wide-eyed and whimpering. Sally’s lips, they would be really soft and wet and oh so kissable, eh? I found myself staring at Snively’s mouth. He had tiny straight teeth, whiter than his face.

Really soft and wet oh so kissable, and stuck into a constant pout. And I pushed my face down and stuck my mouth onto his and growled passion into his throat. He struggled underneath me and I let my weight settle onto him, laying on him until he quit. He gasped for breath when I finally drew away.

...his eyes were more lighter blue than hers and somehow the light caught them in a different way...

The taste of cinnamon and spit. Could I tell anyone how much lust that stirred? Overlanders were evil. They were sick. They were ENEMIES.

I was hard. Very hard. He could feel it poking into him, I knew, because his eyes got round and panicked. He started fighting me, crying curses and pleads in that fucking annoying voice that made me want to punch him. This time I didn’t hold back and I beat him, and beat him, and beat him some more.

GODS! Sally’s beauty... everyone fought over it. Wasn’t every girl jealous of it? She had Knuckles wanting her. She had Antoine. And Sonic, of course, him. Pincushion, showoff, fucking asshole. I spat onto the ground. The wad of saliva landed next to a fetaly-curled Snively.

She had me. She even had Hershey (who, unbeknownst to most everyone was a closet lesbian).

Snively. He didn’t have anyone. He didn’t have shit. What a fucking pathetic thing. I snorted, looking down at him. He seemed so small and fragile, and I had made him bleed. He was crying too, strange puppy-whimpering sounds. He didn’t have anyone who would want him. Who the fuck would want him? Who the FUCK could think he was fucking beautiful?!

Only someone sick. A fucking Overlander lover.

I didn’t love them.

I didn’t love them.

I didn’t fucking love him.

He fought even harder when his pants were ripped off. I couldn’t understand how he could wiggle so much, when he was clearly in pain. I think I had broken some of his ribs. I told him to stop.

Sally was a girl, and therefore she had girl-parts. I didn’t know if she was a virgin. Sonic was an impatient asshole with everything else, so I guessed he’d probably pushed her into fucking too. But she had to be tight, because well, that’s just part of the fucking fantasy. Even if she’d fucked him, she wasn’t a whore, she wasn’t that…used.

I wouldn’t ever touch her, right? She’d blown me off. For Sonic. Because he was younger? Handsomer. Fuck no. Maybe she liked blue.

Balls.

I came to the realization that I’d ripped off his underwear and he’d just clawed my arm up quite good with his little claws…or wait, what did the Overlander’s call them? Something ridiculous. ‘Nails’. Yeah. Like they couldn’t admit they had fucking claws, like that would make them more like us, or something. I spat again. FUCK! They aren’t anything like us!

On a desert island, would I rather run my hands through her mahogany fur, all thick and fragrant, mingling with my black pelt…

I could feel the contrast of his smooth pale skin against mine. We were like night and day. Except his heart was the black and mine the white. He felt so warm, and when I licked my tongue down his chest, he was flawless and tasted like...indescription. There wasn’t any taste like this, except maybe that taste of salt. He was sweating a little, because the night was warm, and his voice was high and crying.

Yeah, well I was a little scared, myself.

On the desert island I couldn’t see any traces of mahogany fur anywhere. Just smooth long pale birch trees, with their dark crisscrossing of brown stippling, like the scars on Snively’s belly.

“Please, stop,” he said. “Please don’t...”

“I can’t.”

He stared up at me and I put my hand over his eyes. It wasn’t fair his eyes could be more fucking beautiful than...

...Sally was a girl, and she’d have girl-parts.

But Snively was a boy. He was a boy. He didn’t have girl parts, eh? Oh well, I found something similar enough, anyway. I ached so bad; I had a bomb inside me. I just needed to trigger the damn thing. So I pushed real hard against him. A fucking battering ram trying to get through a locked door.

But I was real good at battering.

His mouth opened and his hands fought like trapped things against my chest. He didn’t make much noise. Weird sounds. Gasping little squeaks, and his body jerked, like convulsions. His teeth came down on his lip and made it bleed.

I couldn’t fucking believe I was on an island filled with white birch, all bare like Mobians without fur. Like Overlanders. White and scared with long arms, and their branches rubbed together, making high keening noises like screams. No, he was making that noise.

And I was so fucking hard. It seemed like a relief to choose. I was choosing with each hard thrust, here. My eyes were rolling and I was just so fucking high, like way above in the night sky. She’d be fucking tight, that was the fantasy, right. But this was a reality, and tight was too weak a word.

I guess he was a virgin.

The keening noises got louder and more squealy, agonized. My mouth went down on those full pouty lips, grinding. Oh, a taste I could pinpoint now, copper, sweet rich copper blood, all over his mouth, all in the air, and I fucked him harder, jerking his body back and forth over the dead leaves.

“S-s-stop, puh...puh...please, stop…” his annoying voice was somehow more pleasing when it was sobbing and begging like this. My hand was still clamped over his eyes and it felt wet, so I pulled it away and saw the tears filling his eyes and oozing out, like too much water in a bathtub. His face wasn’t white anymore, he was flushed pink like the flowers in the village garden.

“I can’t,” I said.

There wasn’t any turning back now. I couldn’t.

But I couldn’t bear this, either.

I didn’t fucking LOVE him.

NO NO NO. I could hear them now. SALLY. Her voice, all fucking bossy and condescending and shit, calling me SICK. King Acorn, calling me an ATROCITY! Sonic, calling me a TRAITOR. Tails, oh yeah, he was in there too, Sonic’s fucking shadow, and he chirped in his boy voice, calling me an Overlander lover, Overlander lover, Overlander lover!!

Nah-nah-nah-nah booo booo.

And I ravaged him on the damp ground, and I could smell blood and hear crying crying nah nah nah nah...stop IT, STOP IT...and I didn’t love him but… when I glanced down and saw those baby-eyes, drowned and steeped in hurt, I fell off the island and was left alone, all alone, going down into water that started out blue but turned black and into him I shot remnants of myself.

And then I yanked out, leaving him alone, and me alone, each to our own bodies. There was no going back. But no one would know. No one would know. My sin was deep inside him now, and his darkness would hide it forever-and-fucking-ever...

“Why?” Snively asked.

He had such a fucking annoying voice. I wanted to smother his mouth with my tongue, shut him the fuck up, I wanted to tell him to never talk again.

“I don’t know.” I said.

There was blood on the leaves, and he was amongst them, shivering and naked. His baby eyes weren’t looking at me. He had his head tucked under his arms.

“Because,” I said.

He raised his head. His eyes were a fucking jury. They accused me of crimes, high crimes. Crimes I was guilty of. He knew. On a desert island, my only companion, how could I choose an Overlander over my own flesh?

But this island was strange and cold and filled with dead birches, and amongst them he wove like a nymph, like a dirty siren luring me into death among dying flowers. And I wanted to die there.

But it was a sin.

So I had to confess. And repent.

Confess. So I took Snively by the shoulders and I propped him up against a tree. He seemed weak, and his face paler than usual, and his eyes watery and dully scared, but mostly numb. I took one of his hands, with those claws that had pieces of my skin imbedded under them, and clasped it in mine.

Confess the sin.

“Because I love an enemy.”

“Because I love an Overlander.”

“Because I love You.”

And his eyes narrowed. His lip was still bleeding from where he’d bitten it.

“You’re SICK.” He said.

Nahnahnahnahboooboo.

Overlander Lover.

SINNER.

Confess and repent, so I confessed my sins to the birch trees, and the night sky, and the SICKLY siren in front of me, throwing them away like the last traces of my ejaculate inside him.

“I love you. I love you. FUCK. I fucking love…”

“ENOUGH!”

NOW repent.

I didn’t want to sacrifice. I didn’t want to fucking do it! Would anyone know it was me? Would they care? Who cared about Snively anyway?

Who could fucking love HIM, anyway?

I had to pay for my sin.

I didn’t want to pay, oh GODS! But I was tough, eh? A man, a fucking man, I wasn’t going to be weak and indecisive.

“You’re SICK.” He said.

And he was angry and scared and mortified and his eyes were more beautiful than hers. SHIT. I could endure this. The sacrifice...but I reached in my belt with tears in my eyes.

The next day they talked about it. They wondered whodunit. But nobody really cared.

They had me dig the hole.

The dirt flew and in my memory I saw his eyes go wide and terrified and he grabbed my arm, trying to hold me back. “No. NO. Please! No, Please, GEOFFREY!”

Paying for sin wasn’t easy.

The dirt flew over my shoulder.

Mentally. Physically, it was so easy. It slid in like butter. It slid in and he gave a gasping gurgling sound. No turning back, but I wished I could just go back to watching and watching him like King Acorn had picked me for. But I didn’t want to watch him right now. No.

I grunted and thrust the shovel down hard, pretending the dirt was him again. Like I could have one more chance…

My arms went around him and I held him against me. He made choking gasps against my chest, his fingers digging into my fur. Beside me the knife lay bloody, and I felt his life seeping from his throat and onto my chest, so warm, so very warm….

The hole was almost done and Sally came and looked at it silently. “It’s kinda sad, isn’t it,” she finally said. I looked up and saw her mahogany fur and beside her a birch gleamed like moonlight.

It was more beautiful than her.

He finally left me, taking with him the evidence of my confession, the salty liquid of my sin of love and lust. I couldn’t bear to part my lips from his bald head, my arms from around his frail body. It took forever. It took so long to…

Dig the hole. Sonic came with the wrapped body, all scowling and stern, and I climbed out of the hole.

He threw him in. Like trash. The thump broke me. The noise broke me.

I had to leave. Get out of there. Into the trees, I ran and ran, over blood-splattered leaves and the knife gleamed by my side but they would never know, because they would never care.

They would have cared if they knew that I cared.

I was a traitor to love.

REPENTENCE is worse than any hell; SIN is better than any heaven.

After awhile, they stopped talking about it. After awhile, I forgot about it.

I pretended I forgot.

In the months that passed, King Acorn called me a good Mobian, a pure Mobian, and I received honors, empty praises for things I did that were supposedly good and just and I felt only blackness in my white heart.

And the leaves fell and covered Snively’s grave. I was the only one who remembered where it was, and I watched them spin down, golden against a sullen blue sky, crisscrossed by the white bare arms of the birch, burying one of my many sins.

I never committed that sin again. SICK love was lost in dirt, buried forever-and-ever. I stayed alone on that desert island, because there was no one else welcome there.

Good Mobian.

*~ FIN