The Unstoppable Force and the Immovable Object

Title:The Unstoppable Force and the Immovable Object
Chapter: 2/2
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairing: Ozymandias/Rorschach
Warnings: Slash, violence, kind of non-com at first.
Summary: Second and final chapter. Adrian is just too good at what he does.
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or settings or anything copyrighted by DC.
Note: I didn't spell/grammar check it completely. Sorry.

Unintended gasp; it feels strange. The rubber grabs the vulnerable flesh on my chest. My face grow hot. I struggle underneath him, his hip against my groin. I can't move again. He shushes me and my right hand balls into a fist, but he knows. He always knows. Brushes the flesh again, leg tighter on groin.

"No," I growl, hands trembling against the desk. Lift eyes to his; he saw through my face, to my fear. Lips twitch into smirk. Unavoidable. Feel weak for the first time; Rorschach isn't weak. Veidt is convincing.

Idle hand finds my groin and I thrash. Not weak. Not filthy. Body says otherwise. Treachery. Hand tightens against already tight spot. Breathe into face; suffocating. Too hot.

Turn head away, can't watch betrayal. Confident fingers caress gently. Can't breathe. He knows. He pauses and watches me, my chest heaving. His hands leave me to tug at the edge of my face, rolling it up to the bridge of my nose. I flinch as the frigid air touches my lips, rubber to follow.

I can hear him grinning to himself, watching every small move of my face, spiraling further. The rubber pulls at the skin as it attempts to brush over it. Fingertips come to rest on my jaw. My lip quivers and I cannot stop it; frustration.

He leans in farther, skin burning mine. Lips on my neck and hand on opposite side. Each contact burns, ignites my flesh; petroleum in my blood. Single match. Idle hand traces down my body and stops at my waist, pulling back edge of pants.

My lips form the word, but no sound escapes. Paralyzed, I can't fight it. I inhale; he smells sweet at first, venomous upon second consideration. A viper, he waits for me to move, supple flesh barely making contact with my collarbone.

I unintentionally satisfy his stalking nature, squirming instinctively; prey. His teeth pry at the skin just covering the bone, and I choke, his other hand snapping the button on my pants open. I back up onto the desk, purple leather stained with a fallen ink bottle.

He follows me up to the edge of the desk. I feel false security on the marble slate, if only for a moment. He smiles at me with swollen lips, his eyes hallow, but not empty, encased in purple. Can't think; don't know what to do.

"Adrian," I manage. It sounds like a warning, but it's all I can force out of my lungs as they struggle to inflate.

"Yes, Rorschach?" His smile widens. His voice is laced with poison. The trail he left on my neck burns as it soaks in, and I look away. Not wise. Not thinking clearly. Can feels his eyes on me, calculating. Pressure between my legs increased; hand fidgeting. I struggle underneath with little effort. Don't know why. Hand stops for a moment, and I give a regretful glance to him. He is unbuckling his right glove.

I shuffle back a bit, escape still an option. I am caught, eyes averted. His knee is on the table, kevlar clacking against the stone; broken stillness. It keeps my legs parted. Feel like a whore. Bare fingertips touch my bare stomach; my skin twitches like a horse. I exhale and breath in just as quickly as they slide lower. Feel helpless; shouldn't.

Jaw shakes again as velvet skin glides under elastic barrier. My face is hot again, the skin under it set aflame as shame spills into my cheeks. I prey for forgiveness, to whom I do not know. He laughs. It is full of hubris.

I choke back a sound I know would only elicit pleasure for him, his digits tracing permanent lines under my contradictory flesh. A satisfied 'Hm' seems to fill the room and break through me, my stomach turning with conflicting sensations.

"Please, Adrian." I winced as I couldn't understand exactly what I meant in saying it, but it still fell from my lips. He pulled my aching flesh from its restraints, my lower lip falling victim to my teeth as I bit hard.

The foreign touch only sparked my need for it. My denial no longer held any ground in my thoughts and my hips bucked into his caress. Feel sick, wrong, but indescribably good. No. Can't compromise.

Started to scramble back along the desk, ink smearing a trail as I went. Unintentionally met his eyes; they were frightening. Ambitious. Vedit always seemed to get what he wanted.

He was up on the desk and close to me, lips brushing over mine and I couldn't move again. Fear? "You were doing so well," he whispered, cold armor pressing against my firm protrusion. His accent was haunting, my breath labored against his lips just millimeters away. Could still taste the sugar dissolving around my tongue.

"Hm." His lips didn't move, but the sound was as clear as the intention. Gloved hand crawled up my stomach to my chest. Palm splayed across my sternum, forced down to the cold stone.

My cheeks burned and my hand retaliated as I threw a final effort at freedom; caught, pinned. "Adrain... wrong." Heart leaped, louder than words.

"You keep calling me Adrian." Kiss on jaw. "Are you nervous?" Kiss on neck. Ridiculous question. He's just teasing me now. Loins twitch. Thud against his leg. Wince. Chuckle. His breath is hot on my neck, fighting off bitter cold.

His gentle hand touches me inappropriately again, but my only reaction is a subjected gasp. Time is moving slowly. I laugh to myself as I hear Manhattan condescending me and my inability to perceive time as it actually is. Nonexistent. I discover that I can't resist him anymore. He has broken me down to the pinnacle of my will, and further still. My body is weaker than I expected.

His fingers are tantric along my strained tissue. I hear my breath, unsteady, and weighted; feel his eyes smoldering along my body. Something cold near my hip. Ink is staining my skin. "Better?" His voice, pure as ink, made me shiver; maybe not his voice. Hips jerk into his touch as he stops for a moment.

Try to convince my body otherwise; fail miserably. Find his eyes, unfortunately, watching me squirm. Feral grin. Glistening eyes. Glowing hair. White sky. Heart skips again as breath catches. Languid strokes pull my breath free; eyes still trapped by his. Haughty.

Hips start moving with his hand, fingers trying to dig through the desk. Amazing sensation. Decades of ignorance, with good reason. Good reason to act dangerously. Heat grows, spreads like... can't think. Chest tightens against sultry noise.

Surrender a pleased sound as warm liquid splashes onto my skin; no pattern. Chaos. My body shakes, cardiovascular arrest, loins aflame with unwarranted bliss. I cough to force my lungs open. Breathe deeply, cold air more noticeable as body temperature rises.

"It's been a while," he says smugly. Blood heats my cheeks again, and I turn my head to the side. I can feel him grin. "A lifetime is far too long."

"Life not over yet," I grumble, pushing myself up weakly. I propped myself up on my arms behind me, keeping distance.

"Yes. Of course." He leaned in; lips on neck, best negotiator. Should kiss people who disagree with him. "Was it worth the wait?"

"Could have waited longer." Unconsciously exposed neck more. Arms grew weaker. Bare hand cupped ribs, thumb brushed over nervous flesh. Closed eyes. Glad I didn't wait longer. No.

"I'm sorry. Perhaps I can increase its value." Spoken perfectly between heated lips, attentive to my shoulder. I shifted slightly. Nervous? No. Sinful. Wrong. Too good to be right. No. I shook my head; shouldn't have. Reads motion better than calculus.

"You are too tense. You should have attended to your needs." Smile tightens his lips as they press against my collarbone.

"You're a doctor now? Don't you think 'world's smartest man' is good enough?" Smirked to myself. Shouldn't be so cocky in given position.

"Mm. I would say I am more your physical therapist." Grin; seductive. Tongue pressed to raise in flesh on pectoral. Elicited a sharp gasp; groin twitched. Opportunistic hunter. Armor pressed to underside of thigh and pushed hard. Fell flat against marble again.

He makes me shiver from this angle. His eyes shadowed from the surrounding light, still glowing in their passion. He looms over me, makes my feel helpless. Suppose I am. Tongue flickers over tender skin. Body arches up to him. Can't help it anymore.

"So sensitive." His breath chills the rest of my body. "I would think out of sheer need to remove all weakness you would have accustomed yourself to this." Another wet touch.

"Not a... weakness." Breath was shaky again. Lying.

I could feel him frown, his disposition terrifying, and I couldn't even see him. The edges of my undershirt bit against my back as he pulled me up by the fabric, nose to nose. I felt fear. His eyes were gleaming, cryptic, but as fearsome as I expected. His lips brushed against mine as he spoke. "Don't lay there and tell me I can't do anything I want to you right now."

"Try me." Wasn't exactly what I wanted to say; wasn't in a position to say it, and I regretted it. The malicious intent bled out from his eyes and ran down his face, spilling into his mouth as his lips curled into a wicked grin.

My eyes narrowed behind the pattern furiously swirling and I threw a punch to the side of his ribcage. Landed nicely. He rolled off of me along the length of the table, ink mottling a print across his back. Shoved my free self back into the confines of my waistline; too much time. Foot was grabbed and body dragged across the table. Gloved hand on chest.

"You're going to fight me?" He looked amused, voice pretentious, and.. alluring. No.

"Prove you wrong." Throw another punch into his palm. He pulls he hand to his face and caresses it with his cheek. He tries to look sweet, but the lust and sin might as well be blood from a decapitated man's neck.

My hand is conducted further, down his neck and to his chest. Feel fixated. He is perfect. The gloves are my only protection from his well sculpted trap. His eyes are closed and his lips are parted ever so slightly, breath barely visible in the chilled air. Hand travels over raise of armor and down along the guard.

I tear my hand free and his eyes lock onto mine; taunting grin. I pushed myself back along the desk, back dipping through puddle of ink still remaining.

His gloved hand slowly met his teeth, tip of middle finger inbetween rows, sliding off. Couldn't look away. Glove fell inbetween his knees as he sat back on his calves. Fingertips of left hand played with bottom lip while right traced graceful patterns on chest. Have to look away. Can't. Pants felt smaller than I remember. Right hand caught raise in flesh between first two fingers, throaty exhale. He closed his eyes, tongue running slowly over his lips before first two fingers slid into mouth. I shuddered and tried to turn head. Couldn't. Pants uncomfortable again. Right hand, led by fingers, followed musculature down abdomen. Traced slowly under guard hiding his loins. Rubbed slowly, rubber seeming not to impede his enjoyment. Fingers pushed in and pulled out of mouth, face flushing red.

I swallowed hard; mouth suddenly dry. His eyes opened slightly to make sure he had my attention, arching his back, chest pushed out, head tilted back as he moaned, biting down on his fingers slightly. Hips pushed forward with his. Clever plan.

He leaned forward, right hand grasping mine as he pulled me up. I sat in front of him, legs on either side of him, transfixed. He guided my hand to his groin and tilted his head up again, gasping softly. My other hand found his neck and cupped the side, face growing hot again.

My groin ached and jaw trembled as the world's smartest man led me on a dangerous exploration of his body. Fingers traced along the contour of the muscle in his neck; want to feel his skin. Reached up with other hand and removed right glove, returning fingers hesitantly back to his neck.

He was soft; incredibly soft, skin drawn tight over sinew, pulse strong under palm. Other hand found his hip and wrapped carefully around the anxious flesh. "Oh, Rorschach," he hummed, hips undulating towards me. Paused for a moment, unsure. Unlikely he was so easily sueded.

He felt the pause, eyes open, smirk forming quickly. Damn. Hands on my wrists, friction between skin. Balance broken; on back again, slap against inked stone. Knees slid forward, legs draped over his thighs; splayed.

"You're effort is useless, Rorschach." He says my name so beautifully. Kiss on neck. "Too much hesitation."

Thrashed up against his death grip on my body. Failed. "Good trick, Veidt. Viper's trap." I smiled, laughing at myself.

"Mm." He thought for a moment, scanning my body. Hand on right wrist pulled hand to his lips, tongue wrapping around my fingertips. Shuddered. To good to be right. Fingers pulled in between pliant lips, teeth carefully teasing. Understated perfection.

Other hand released wrist while mouth released digits. Shivered again; losing control of body. Blue eyes dark and heavy; resistance breaking down. Marble statue shaking to still beautiful pieces. Hands found fabric and pants now only protected half of my thighs, cold bite of ink, warm nausea of flushing cheeks and other parts of body.

Loathsome smirk bearing down on me, arousal conspicuous. Hot breath taunting, slick tongue drawing heat from base to tip, pulling breath from my chest. He sat up again, assured I was incapacitated. He was right, always. He traced his first two fingers with his tongue; made me feel jealous. Attentive stare as other hand lowered, palm contouring against underside of thigh, pushing up.

Saliva polished fingers followed, pressing against ring of muscle. Tried to back up with ample failure, victim to unholy thoughts, sensations. Arousal twitched, focus blurring for a moment as invasive digit pressed through resistance. Face and breath paused, too hot. Eyes boring through face, reading every thought, every flinch. No hiding from this man.

"So smooth, Rorschach," came pompous observation. Didn't have a response. Couldn't think of anything witty. Mother probably had more hair than I ever did.

Second digit. Can't think clearly. Only feel. Panting now, stomach heavy with guilt, loins quivering in anticipation. Magnificent feeling, pain irrelevant. Third, squirming like uncooked calamari against tightening muscle.

Intense heat infecting the rest of my body as he touched something within me, chest lurching up as it overtook me. Again he sparked my flesh, jaw shaking, breath heavy. Cheshire smile above me. Again. I bit my lower lip to keep obscene sounds from escaping again, hips treacherously pleading him for more.

Painful emptiness as he removed his fingers. "Hurm," was all I could form into some coherent articulation; and expression of my discomfort and the necessity for quick resolution, lower body wallowing in the indecent ink beneath me, begging for more indulgence.

Veidt leaned towards the edge of the desk, pulling open a drawer and removing a glass jar. The only sound was the drawer sliding shut, slowly, and heavy breaths as my skin burned in the cool arctic air.

I tilted my head up to see what he was doing, not like I didn't know. My inexperience didn't mean I was ignorant. Snapping sound or clips and his guard and loin piece unbuckled away from his suit. He dropped them to the floor, engorged flesh more intimidating than expected. Suddenly wasn't looking forward to this. No. Was never looking forward to it.

Looked away for a moment, couldn't face self as loins jumped in response to sight of his. Well groomed; must have been too soft for words. Soon have answer. Aching flesh pressed to my equally needy, just light enough to assign you a one-bedroom with Mothman. Tried to push up against him, but no pressure was gained, only further humiliation.

A light chuckle, weighted down with prying need, want; have. Glass on marble as he removed the top of the jar, scooping out ample amounts of colorless, clear jelly. First applied to himself. Soon the chilling substance found my skin, eating the warmth from my fevered body.

I stared up at the sky, reflected in the earth's atmosphere and back again in the glass above, my former self. Broken, again, into something raw; insidious.

My throat clenched around what would have been a scream, muscle fiber tearing despite the attempted preparation. A pain I had not yet felt, searing; I imagine this is what if feels like to have a tire burned around you; maybe better.

My body reacts against him, legs bound by pants still mostly on, but defiant. His hands are cupped against the underside of my thighs, fabric keeping contact at bey. A grin creases the focused expression on his face, attempting to hide discomfort as he pushes more. Purple and blue go well together.

The air is still for a moment, and I exhale; condensation. Stare burning holes into my skin, caustic wounds pouring out bloody guilt; relief. He pulls his hips back and my body trembles, overtaken by bitter lust.

He pushes in again. Careful and considerate. My protruding flesh is pressed against the taut clothing between my legs. Grain of fabric makes me long for supple skin again; it is tempting in its unique way, though. Thinking too much; too much like Manhattan.

Collection of nerves in loins combusts again; faint contact. Body tightens. Pause above, stoic eyes glimmering with curious flame. Retreat, attack, ignition. Body writhes from sensation, heat pulsating in groin. Epidemic of pleasure.

Steady rhythm, body hiccuping against the table, lubricated by viscous liquid underneath. 'Adrift and starving, my darkest imaginings welled up unchecked, spilling from brain to heart like black ink, impossible to remove.' Truer words never spoken; would never be able to scrub this stuff off.

A heated moan escaped me and I tilted my head back, stimulation slowly enveloping me. A gasp followed as frigid air licked at my back, body pulled up by hips and laid on the hard contour of his thighs. He thrust slightly harder, and I could only bare to steal a glimpse at his face. He is thoroughly immersed in making me feel good. Odd sensation in chest.

Train of thought broken by punctuated thrust. He knows I am thinking too much; wants to teach me carnality. Probably know it better than he does. Gasp of air as he bucks hard again; can't hold on to thoughts. Adjusted rhythm.

Hands try to grab at things. End up digging fingertips into armor on his legs, and I can see him smile out of the corner of my eye. His head dips down, eyes close and lips part; he is breaking too. Dangerous beauty.

I close my eyes and the worry evaporates. I cannot think anymore. Everything becomes blurred and all I know of reality is the hastening thrusts. Again, and again, losing all focus; no sight, no sound, no smell, only absolute pleasure. Absolute. Pleasure.

Brilliant flashes spark my thoughts and seep into my body, a wildfire blazing though the plasma in me; its only restraint, tight skin over convulsing muscle. Liquid, cold in comparison, splashes onto my stomach and chest, bring me back to normal existence, if barely. I can't seem to escape this euphoria.

Freezing lines trail down my haunches; closer. I can hear breathing. My jaw is trembling. I can't breath enough. The air burns my throat. I open my eyes; my head is turned toward the closest wall, statues lining it.

I turn my head up and see him. His hair is out of place, feathered over his face slightly. He is panting, and the skin around his collarbone is pink, as are his cheeks. Closer. I am floating down from a cloud of ecstasy. Wish there was a faster route to earth. No. Like it here.

He grins lazily to me, still short of breath. Never thought I would see Veidt exerted. He leans down over me, body pressing down on the fabric between my legs. His decadent lips press against the cooling skin on my neck, hand cupping the other side. Amazing a man so deadly can be so tender.

His hips pull away from the underside of my thighs and I am overtaken by an uncomfortable emptiness. It battles with my fading bliss, both tiring themselves away from me. He is off the desk and pacing around to a drawer. I try to sit up, and manage slowly.

I hold my head for a moment before tracking him down. He has pulled out a purple cloth that he hands me, smiling, eyes insistent. I take it slowly and look down ay myself, frowning. There is a slight pain in each movement, but the side-effects were worth the dosage. Hurm.

I wiped the fluid from various parts of my anatomy, disgust developing slowly as the quantity set in. I stared in frustration at the saturated piece of cloth; not sufficient. I dropped it on the desk. There was a clicking noise that collected my attention, and Veidt's lower armor had been reassembled, his upper body still glistening in the frozen light; a paragon.

His eyes caught mine surveying him and a tremor of fear surfaced for a moment. He walked slowly around the desk as I refastened my pants. By the time I looked up he was in front of me. Never thought ice could be so hot. Blue eyes tore my face apart, his hands pushing my shirt up, one straying lower to grip my tired loins.

"Round two?" He chuckled, stepping me back once. Could only hope he was kidding. Hands met again before splitting to either side of my jaw. He leaned down slowly, lips whispering nothings against mine.

Pressed gently.

Flood of heat raced through me again. Different heat. Warm fireplace instead of napalm. Candlelit dinner instead of arsoned restaurant.

Broken. Left bewildered. Stumbled forward. Looked up. Veidt by his desk. Opened drawer slowly; looked pensive. Pulled out familiar metal sphere. Tossed towards me with a devious look. I caught it carefully; recognition.

"I will be seeing you soon, Rorschach." I looked up to see him lick his lips slowly, hand running through his beautifully tussled hair. Other hand splayed across neck, slithering down across shoulder and back to chest.

"Wait. Adri-"

"-an." Frowned as dark office filled field of view. Felt body to realize I had left coats. Was going to be a long trip home. Pulled undershirt off and looked at it. White stained with black. Never mixing into grey.

"Hurm."

{{Hope you enjoyed. I'm in the process of writing a sequel if people are interested. Hilarity should ensue.
~Dr. Crane }}