Raison D'être

Raison D’être | Chapter 5




Raison D’être | Chapter 5

A LXG Fanfiction by Majokai Yukiko

 

Pairing: Dorian + Tom

Warning: Slash. Angst

Timeline: Post-movie cannon.

Rating: NC-17 for monseonsensual sex.

 

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe
on the rights of Alan Moore, Kevin O’Neil, the filmmakers and their associates.


 

A/N: Finally, what you guys have been waiting for…

---

 

This time around, Tecidecided not to wait patiently for
Dorian in the library. If he had guessed correctly, they did not have much
time. It was paramount that he finds the immortal as soon as possible.

 

It was a rare night of rainless, cloudless London. Tom noted
with not surprise that the library was empty. He was an unexpected guest
anyway.

 

Why, let’s crash the party again, shall I?

 

Tom shrugged himself out of that thick black coat he always
seemed to be wearing when he entered dreamland and draped it across the couch
carelessly. His eyes fell on the bottle of scotch on the table, considered it
for a moment before picking it up and walking out of the library, ready to go
about his search for Dorian Gray.

 

There must have been almost a hundred rooms in the mansion.
Tom was feeling desperatter ter done searching through half of them. He took
out his watch, wanting to find out how much time he had left when he realized
the timepiece had stopped.

 

Tom growled in anger and threw it against a wall furiously.

 

“You are going to chip the paint if you keep doing that,” a
voice drawlrom rom behind. Tom spun around and saw Dorian Gray himself leaning
against the side of the door frame, dressed in his usual nearly pressed
gray-blue suit and a slightly amused expression on his face.

 

Tom frowned. He was sure that he checked out that room just
now. Then again, this was a dream world. Nothing should make much sense.

 

Dorian raised a hand for silence just when Tom opened his
mouth to speak. It was then that the American realized Doran did not have his
cane with him.

&n

“Let’s go somewhere more conducive for talking.”

 

Dorian sauntered past him and down a corridor. His stance
might seem arrogant, but his eyes had spoken of nothing but resignation. Tom
sighed and followed silently, leaving the questions and confessions to later.

 

The courtier’s idea of comfort had referred to a quaint
little balcony that served as a gazebo in the part of the house Tom had not
searched. Tom sat down on the bench, set the bottle of liquor down and waited
expectantly. Dorian leaned back against the rails and tilted his head upwards
to face the night sky.

 

“I used to come here and think, while enjoying the sea
breeze and the stars. That is, if it’s not raining anyway.”

 

“Hm…” Tom nodded slowly. He had no idea how to reply to
that, or to start talking about what he had wanted to discuss. Finally, he
decided to just say what was on his mind, listen to it and then see if it made
sense.

 

“Why did you ask me to leave?”

 

Dorian continued to gaze at the stars, with no outward
signal of even hearing what the agent said. After a while, he turned to smile
sadly at the boy.

 

“I thought you knew. That’s why you are here, isn’t it?”

 

“The painting…it was being repainted, right? Somebody else
was to be repainted in your place, so that you can return while the scapegoat
is trapped in the canvas instead, isn’t it? Your scapegoat was me, isn’t it?!”
Tom demanded. “Then why did you ask me to leave?”

 

Dorian’s teeth snapped shut with a ‘click’.

 

“I don’t know!” He shouted back harshly, pushing himself off
the railings, marching angrily to where Tom was and hauled the agent up on his
feet. “Why not you answer MY questions instead? Why didn’t you stay away when I
specifically told you to do so? Why do you continuously try to tempt me with
your presence, knowing that whether I’m dead or alive it does not make a
difference because I still can’t have you?!”

 

Tom was not paying much attention to Dorian’s words, drawn
instead to the dark brown eyes that flashed with an untamed spirit as the other
man speaks. They were standing face-to-face; so close that Tom could feel
Dorian’s warm breath on his neck.

 

A sudden wave of impulsivity overwhelmed him. All his sense
could register was himself muttering a ‘I’ll show you why!’ before grabbing the
immortal’s head and crushing their mouths together.

 

The first kiss was fire, and it was burning them up inside.
Adrenaline, hormones and days of pent-up emotional wreckage overflowed their
damns, drowning the two men with their unbelievable force.

 

Tongues wrestled each other for control as the two men
mercilessly attacked each other’s mouths, determined to explore thoroughly and
stretched this moment of passion and intimacy out for as long as possible. Then
they had to break apart when the lack of oxygen forced them to do so.

 

Tom stared at Dorian with a hazy-eyed expression of shock on
his face. He flanked down at his hands that were clutching tightly on Dorian’s
shirt collar, crumbling it.

 

He let go immediately.

 

“Oh God, what did I just do? What did I just do? I didn’t do
that. I didn’t just kiss Dorian Gray, regardless of how gorgeous he is or how
much I fancy him. Oh shit, I didn’t just say that out loud. I didn’t do it…I
didn’t…”

 

Dorian leaned back on his heels, one eyebrow raised as he
watched Tom twist himself into frenzy, trying to deny his moment of insanity.
Around a couple of minutes later, Tom snapped his head up with a hopeful cheer
on his face.

 

“What did I just do?” The American asked.

 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Dorian chuckled, gathering the boy in
his arms once more. “But I think it’s something like this.” And he lowered his
head slightly for their lips to meet once more.

 

The second kiss was paradise. There was passion and there
was still lust. But most importantly, there were love and tenderness reserved
only for private moments such as this. Private moments that might never come
again for them.

 

As if realizing the finality of the relationship that had
barely even started, their kisses grew frantic. Dorian shrugged himself out of
his coat and, for the first time, not caring if it was dirtied and simply let
it fall to the ground. Skilled fingers quickly unbuttoned Tom’s white shirt and
pushed it pae she shoulder. Dorian’s kisses rained upon every inch of bare skin
revealed like a squall, nibbling lightly from the lips to the jaw line, down
along the collarbone and finally latching itself onto one dark pink nipple.

 

Tom gasped and arched back leasleasure. Eyelids fluttered
close drunkenly, as the American moaned in pleasure while Dorian teased, licked
and bit on his nipples.

 

The older man carefully maneuvered them onto the ground,
into a more comfortable position. Finally, when he had gotten them where he
wanted, Dorian grinned and straddled the boy.

 

Tom watched with lustful fascination at the Englishman
leisurely but efficiently stripped himself down, humming a tune under his
breath. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat when Tom swallowed.
Dorian had removed his pants and under shorts, sitting before him proud, naked
and very aroused.

 

“Like what you see?” Dorian asked cheekily as Tom blushed
and raised his hands slightly.

 

“May…may I touch it?” Tom asked hesitantly, referring to
Dorian’s thick erect manhood. The European smiled and whispered ‘later’.

 

Dorian slid down and knelt between Tom’s slightly open legs.
Tom held his breath, wondering what the other man was about to do and then
groaned in wanton delight. Dorian had suddenly leaned forward and pressed his
tongue flat against the cloth barrier covering Tom’s member.

 

This was too much. Tom wanted to yell, feeling the warm, wet
tongue playing with his cock through the obstructive cloth. The boy reached
down, wanting to unzip his pants but was held still by the wrists.

 

“Uh-uh.” Dorian teased. “I’ll do it. Just sit back…” he
unbuckled Tom’s belt and slipped both pants and briefs down to the ankles.
“Relax…” Dorian leered at the now exposed flesh and leaned forward. “And enjoy
the ride,” he whispered before deep-throating his lover.

 

Tom would have felt vulnerable with his legs trapped by the
restraints around his ankles, had Dorian not been doing such a bloody good job
at distracting him.

 

The boy nearly buck the other man off him, but the firm
hands on his hips told him otherwise. Dorian continued to suck fervently at his
cock, still humming that darn tune in his throat, making that strange but not
unpleasant sensation shot from his groin straight through his entire being. Tom
came with a scream.

 

Tom slumped boneless onto the floor as Dorian released his
flaccid penis with a smile. The American frowned.

 

“But you have not…” Dorian hushed him with a kiss.

 

“I’m not done wit you yet.” The immortal muttered between
kisses, one head cupping Tom’s face possessively while the other roamed down to
coax the member into hardness again. Tom groaned in pleasure.

 

Dorian broke off from the kiss and stared down worriedly
into Tom’s wide blue eyes. “This your first time?” Tom blushed and looked away.


 

“Answer me, Tom.” Dorian buried his face into the crook of
Tom’s head, alternating between biting and sucking on the soft skin there.

 

Tom nodded.

 

Dorian smiled and pushed himself up to a kneeling position.
He ran two fingers gently across Tom’s soft supple lips. “Suck,” he winked and
almost sighed happily when Tom obeyed without question.

 

After a while, Dorian pulled his fingers out and placed them
close to Tom’s puckered entrance.

 

“This is going to hurt a bit.” Dorian warned and pushed a
finger in. “Trust me and just relax.”

 

“The five most dangerous words in the English language.” Tom
murmured to himself.

 

To his credit, Tom did try his best to relax, trusting the
other man to know what they were doing. A second finger entered, scissoring and
stretching his hole.

 

“Oh fuck!” Tom yelled, when a whiter-hot sensation explored
behind his eyes. “What was that?”

 

“What?”ian ian feigned innocent and carelessly brushed his
fingertips across that sweet spot again. Another shattering wave of pleasure.

 

Tom whimpered when the fingers withdrew. But only froze in
shock when Dorian lifted his legs and placed them on his shoulders. Something
blunt brushed against his entrance.

 

“One last chance to say ‘no’, Tom. What do you want?”

 

“Please…just…FUCK ME!”

 

Dorian chuckled. “Gladly.” And entered the boy with one
swift thrust, hitting his prostate most accurately.

 

Men no more. They were reduced to mere beasts, giving in to
their most primal instincts, reducing to nothing but a mixture of heart,
passion and pleasure.

 

Dorian withdrew and plunged back in mercilessly, enjoying
how Tom’s virgin hole enveloped him tightly with their blinding heat. Finally,
he came, closing his eyes as he released his load.

 

Tom came soon after. But he insisted on keeping his eyes
wide open. The expression on Dorian’s face when he came was priceless. He
looked…peaceful.

 

Dorian collapsed onto Tom, still breathing heavily from
their activity. Instinctively, Tom wrapped his arms around the immortal and
held him close, both of them relaxing in the moonlight bath and the
intoxicating beating of their hearts in unison.

 

They remained like this for a long time.

 

“Dorian, I lo-“

 

“Don’t say it,” the immortal barked fiercely.

 

“But I—“

 

“I told you don’t,” and he silenced his lover with a kiss.

 

Tom did not notice the other man reaching for his pants and
pulling out something from the pocket. He did not notice the tears that were
running down both their cheeks when they kissed, knowing that this was never
meant to be. He did not notice anything until Dorian took Tom’s hands and
wrapped them around a metal handle.

 

“I love you,” Dorian promised and plunged the dagger into
his chest. Tom stared in shock and disbelief. His hands were still around the
hilt of the dagger when paint, instead of blood, gushed out of the gaping wound
on Dorian’s naked bosom.

 

The paint evaporated, into shimmering white crystals that
decorated the night air like stars. Dorian Gray was dust.

 

***

 

Epilogue

 

The sun shone down at the four men and a woman standing at por port, watching one another in silence. A vast difference from the London
weather; the sun in American knew when to shine in summer.

 

Mina placed a comforting hand on Tom’s shoulders. The boy’s
blue eyes were blood shot from constant crying. His hands gripped on tightly to
a brown package. They all knew it was just an empty canvas under the wrapping
paper, but Tom did not care. It was the last thing he had left of his lover.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Skinner asked. Tom offered a weak
smile and turned around, leaving whatever that was remaining of the League at
the port, walking back to his life in the States.

 

Nevookiooking back.

 

***

 

End of Raison D’être