AU so very AU

[themidnightson]

It wasn't the best day--

He'd been bothered by the nearness of pretty much every single person who'd gotten within a four foot radius of him. He'd actually caught a boy's wrist in his fingers, nearly snapped it in his haste, when he'd reached over to point at part of his anatomy notes,  distracted by the pulse that shuttered and roared under his thumb, wanting to feel the wild beat of it against his lips. Before he'd had to suddenly get himself out of that room. He hadn't even listened to the teacher remonstrating his back as he ran away as slowly as possible without ruining his well constructed life of lies.

In another class he'd gotten a perfect test back, again, but he was conflicted on whether he deserved it. It was all but impossible to sit in a room full of peers taking the same test and no over hear their every little diatribatic thought about the questions and the answers to the questions. To pick out the calmest minds instead of the panicked ones, who were easier to stand, but also inevitably were focused or gleeful about having the correct answer each time.

-- so when Edward threw the door open and was greeted with the sight of a studio vertical piano it wasn't hard to just stare irritably.

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[themidnightson]

"It's my prerogative-" His hands were winding the wire around the backs and palms of his hands in two very quick circles. The heels of his hands hardly leaving the space over Carlisle's breast bone for a half second to do so. "-not yours."

He leaned down, forearms dropping against his skin, pressing down with his weight. "If I don't want to play the piano." His grip on the wire didn't lessen but he used a thumb to tip up Carlisle's chin and kissed his throat. "If I choose to believe things you don't." He turned his cheek to one side, placing another one on the side. Small and precise.

"And even if what I want most is to make you stop thinking what I should or shouldn't be doing or wanting or know, make you writhe and scream," he paused, the grip of his hands tightening the wire at the same time as he bit the side of Carlisle's throat without warning. "-on your broken piano, until the entire building couldn't miss what was happening-" he pulled back, but didn't loosen the tension of the wire in his hands.

"It's still my prerogative to choose what I want to do with it."

[ofthefamily]

There's no air in Carlisle's lungs; the gasp sounds hoarse when Edward bites him and he doesn't dare speak but the thought --






What do you want to do with it - me - the piano - anything --

skips like a scratched record across Carlisle's mind, even as he tries desperately to cling to what Edward threatened to do to him.

[themidnightson]

"The piano is gone, if you haven't noticed."

At least in any way that it could resemble 'a piano.'

Edward half rolled his eyes, shaking his head even with a smugly disappointed edge to his still dark expression. "I should do nothing. Get up, calm down, take a walk, think sensibly, pretend I understand or am vaguely apologetic for demolishing your property--"

Except that he only crouched closer saying this, never moving away.

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle strains against the piano wire. But you won't.

[themidnightson]

A wan to sharp predatory smile crossed his lips, as he faintly tipped his heads and raised his shoulders in a shrug. "I don't want to, and I don't care either. If it's selfish, so be it."

At least he didn't right then, leaning down and demanding Carlisle's lips again for a kiss that wasn't a request, but an invasion. His hands balled slightly, fingers tips grazing his chin without loosing the wires, and his hips rocking downward.

[ofthefamily]

Selfish doesn't matter here

How could it? Edward's very existence, here, in Carlisle's life -- that was selfish and Carlisle doesn't care oh my Edward lets his hands shred the waistband of Edward's pants to scraps.

Let me have you please --

[themidnightson]

"You don't listen well," it's sardonic sharp complaint with a note of laughter and annoyance, even when he's saying it through Carlisle's lip once he's caught it with his teeth.

Still the sound of ripping stays consistent; finally losing his own shirt which jerks the wire only on the left side, having to disentangle one of the loops to be rid of the cloth.

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle's head jerks as the wires do.

I don't listen well.

Carlisle stops trying to lead, control. That grates more than the piano wire.

[themidnightson]

There was a laugh, sharp and hot and straight into his mouth, somehow encompassing a groan and a much harder kiss, at the give he can feel and hear at the same second. "Only you'd start there."

Edward unwound one hand, transferring the two wires into the other, keeping them. The other reaching downward, brushing with hard finger tips across the plane of ribs, stomach, the waist just over a bad, trailing over pants to the rise of a hip bone, the slightly depressed valley of the hipstock followed by a finger, grazing.

There was a shake of his head, words mumbled against his skin with a softer groan. "Far too much still."

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle can't move -- he can, but he finds he doesn't want to and the thought alone is enough to send all his nerve endings into overdrive --

far too much what I can't do anything my Edward

[themidnightson]

"If that were ever true." There's a quiet snicker, for all that anything were actually quiet to their hearing ability.

"Clothing." Carlisle's all half of his self still covered.

Fingers curled on the top of his pants over a hip bone, in the same second as the word was said, pulling downward with heavy force on the cloth, rending between one immovable body and another unstoppable force.

[ofthefamily]

The ripping barely conceals Carlisle's groan and he waits --

[themidnightson]

Strips of cloth are flung away. Other pieces, left along and under, pushed aside for finger tips to return to the jut of the hip bone, tracing over it with a lazy, but heavy drag. Following the natural curvature of the bone back into the depression of the hip socket.

To wrap a hand around the hip just as suddenly, with a thumb in the depression and fingers curled around his whole hip, tightly when he suddenly raised up and kissed Carlisle fiercely again, yanking him closer to him by the wire.

Wanting to have it on his mind and on his tongue and his fingers when his hand tracked back inside, more precise in the pressure in the heel of his hands and curl of his fingers over skin.

[ofthefamily]

Held up by the wire and Carlisle's stone-grip across Edward's back gives him room to grunt into Edward's ear but he still refuses to speak aloud, if he even can with the wire so taut.

I can be quiet if you'd only let me do someth--

[themidnightson]

There's a sudden low guttural growl at that thought, fist tightening on the wire. The necessity of quiet, and the logical reasons behind the necessity, do not in fact necessitate an inclination to agreeing on an instinctual level.

This was supposed to be about want.

"Fine." It's a curt hard word, against Carlisle's mouth.

[ofthefamily]

The excitement -- glee, an expression Carlisle never uses -- makes the quick tumble to Edward's left instantaneous so Carlisle can shift lower, cheek-to-hip and he bites there. Part retribution and part urge to taste, Carlisle bites again and again. Not hard, not scarring, but enough to draw out the grasp he has on Edward's erection.

He never moves to force some slack into the piano wire Edward's using as his leash.

When his lips and mouth and tongue surround Edward, Carlisle's thoughts

this is all I wanted is to make you happy follow you following me you make me happy oh Edward

eventually turn smug.

I can make you happy.

[themidnightson]

Edward gasped at the slew of bites, digging tangled fingers into the shoulders and hair beneath him. If it were the debris it'd be splintering further, powdering under that grasp, but the skin beneath his fingers only gives so much.

Threading into hair and then down Carlisle's neck, pulling tighter on the wire the further down he reached and unable to suppress the groan, or the faint whimper at the end of the groan, when his entire body shuddered in reaction to softhardwetpressureforce Carlisle's mouth.

It's a monstrous effort to keep his voice, and the tone shifts with Carlisle's movement, "Going to give me another piano to destroy?"

[ofthefamily]

Feeling reckless.

Stop talking.

Carlisle concentrates again on Edward with his mouth and hands, shifting his hips into an angle and rhythm that Carlisle dictates --

[themidnightson]

It's a strangled gasping from a body that has no need to gasp or sigh or cry out, that shouldn't be able to managed anything, no less this, that turns out a shaking hard breath laugh, dark and hard and sweet all at once.

"No."

[ofthefamily]

Fine.

Carlisle's conscious thoughts fade to a white noise until he feels Edward jerking upward faster with more insistence and it's a struggle to keep a smile off his face when Carlisle finally comes up for air, Edward relaxing fractionally beneath him.

[themidnightson]

It's the first few seconds in the whole day untainted by some amount of anger or rationalization, just the arcing rush and the feeling of Carlisle against him, blurred into his sense of self. And he thinks Carlisle can buy (or steal) a fleet of pianos if it will just not end.

Which causes the smallest rumble that isn't quite a chuckle as tireless eyes open, peerless golden with black shot through it. Impertinent as possible, perhaps because of the thought, his eyebrows raised. "That's the best you've got?"

[ofthefamily]

"There's only so much a frustrated and bound man might do."

[themidnightson]

"Woe is you," Edward said, punctuating each syllable with the sharp smirk and a solid tug on the wires in his one hand to pull him back closer, back to even. Leaning in to almost brush his lips on the last word, before in a flash of lightening fast moment his free hand, fingers burying into blonde hair, and jerking back hard, lips parting instead against Carlisle's shoulder where he bit down hard.

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle shouts with the sharp sting of it -- the venom will leave a mark.

At this point, the piano wire might too, but Carlisle can't seem to care.

Again --

[themidnightson]

People in the room across the hall over look up--

But their nonchalant confused-curiosity is drowned out by Carlisle. Carlisle's unwavering focus. Carlisle's reaction. Carlisle's skin. Carlisle's voice.

A sound that was half snarl, half moan caught between Edward's chest and throat, but he only pulled away enough to move over to the side, right above his collar cone and then biting down again. Then again, without a pause, slightly lower.