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To bury my sacred love	By : Kittycountess Category: +G to L > Gankutsuou Views: 5826 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gankutsuou, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter 1
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
This story is an alternative
upshot of Gankutsuou which picks up after episode 18 and goes into a different
direction. This is a going to be a multi-chaptered fic. Reviews are welcome.

Disclaimer: The characters and
situations of Gankutsuou belong to Gonzo and whoever else holds the rights to
the anime.

Pairing: CountxAlbert

To bury my sacred love

Chapter 1

There is a tranquility to space
that I find infinitely preferable to the tides and ebbs of life in big cities.

I enter the Count�s room soundlessly
and see him sitting on a chaise. He is beautiful as always but by now, I think
I�m immune to the snare of his beauty. His texture rich hair, his mismatched
eyes, the graceful way he sits on any chair as if claiming it as his throne.
Those aren�t novelty to me anymore. He is unique in all ways imaginable and I
have accepted the rarity of that majesty as much a sign of my weakness as the
cause of my downfall.

He is grand, he is marvelous, he
is everything a man � a god � should be. He is my god.

I am nothing to him.

No, not nothing. I do have a
meaning, a purpose in his world. I am the scum, the enemy; I am the focus of
his revenge. Gankutsuou�s outlet for its
need.

I walk a few steps into the room
but he doesn�t look up, so deep is he immersed in his thoughts. The familiar
waterpipe he usually smokes in these occasions is sitting next to him on an
ornate small table. The intricate designs on the stem and the bowl seem to be
gold, just like everything else around here. Sometimes it makes me think I�m an
Arabian princess, imprisoned in a golden palace, showered in riches but kept in
a gilded cage.

�Sit down, Albert.� He says
without looking at me. I do, on the far edge of the chaise; far enough to be
out of his reach even though I know it won�t stay that way. I look him over;
his forehead is glowing brightly, signifying that Gankutsuou is strongly in
control. When I came in, before he noticed my presence, I saw him holding a
hand to his head as if in pain. I know there is a constant battle inside him,
raging between him and the demon that wants to consume his entire body.

It�s my body that he uses to
calm the demon. My body that takes the brunt of its incessant rage. It will be
the same tonight, I know because that is the reason he�s called me.

�Drink something. Wine, maybe.
And bring me a glass too.� He says, this
time not caring to hide his pain as his hand reached for his forehead. I stare
at him for a minute before walking to the small bar located at one corner of
the room and pouring two drinks for us. I return to him with the wine, handing
him his glass and taking my own to my perch.

I know I mustn�t drink, I�m
still not of an age where drinking is allowed for me. My parents made sure I
would always behave at parties and only served me juice.

My parents�it�s partly because
of them that I�m sitting here, drinking although I�m not supposed to and
waiting for more deeds a boy my age shouldn�t have ever been exposed to, let
alone be involved in.

I drain my drink in one gulp,
the thought having dampened my mood. Who cares if I get piss drunk and wake up
with a headache in the morning? Who cares that he�s probably sitting there like
a predator, enjoying my obvious discomfort. It�s all an act after all. By now I
should be used to this even though my mind screams at me that if should never
become mundane.

Why care? The important thing is
that we are far far away from earth and here, I could be anyone. I�m not Albert
Morcerf. I�m not a viscount, no son of my father. No aristocrat. I�m no one,
just some boy off the streets of Paris who lost his way and was taken in like a
stray dog. Just like Peppo and he is the most carefree boy I�ve ever seen.

�Take off your coat and shoes,�
comes the next order.

I put the wine glass on the
table and stand up to remove my coat. He is watching me while I go about it, I
can feel the heat of his gaze on my back. Slowly I remove the garment and sit
back down to take off my shoes and socks. Once I�m done, I stand up again.

�Go lie on the bed. On your
stomach.�

The bed is a large four-poster
with complex carvings in the woodwork and beautifully embroidered red and gold
covers. A souvenir from Janina. I�ve been on it enough times to know the soft
mattress and cushions give you the feeling of sleeping on clouds. I simply walk
up to it and drop my body face first onto the covers, facing the headboard. I
turn my head away from him and wait.

He finally rises from the chaise
and moves behind me. I can hear him move around but don�t dare turn my head to look
at him. I remain in my position and close my eyes, whatever happens from this
point on is his decision, I just have to ride through it.

Still I can�t help but to wish
that the circumstances were different. I make myself remember that this is
still the man I loved and used to want to be close to in all possible ways.
Many nights I had dreamt about being in his arms, being held within his
protective embrace while he told me about the wonders of the worlds he had
traveled to. I came quite close to that in the past, before everything broke
down and this plot started to unfold. When I struck my deal with him I knew the
dream was over. Yet I still can�t help going back to it. My heart aches with a
strange kind of pain before I force it to freeze over once again and remember
where I am and what is happening.

My reverie is interrupted by his
weight settling on the bed next to me. He has only removed his coat and
loosened his cufflinks. He still has his sleek white gloves on, like always. He
never touches me with his bare hands.

A hand reaches towards me,
deceptively gentle, and starts massaging my back as he begins to speak.

�Have you ever felt despair,
Albert?�

�Despair, Count?�

�Don�t call me that.� He says
sharply.

�S--sorry.�

�Well, have you?�

I act confused. And I am, a
little bit. It�s not often that he talks.

�I--I don�t know what you mean?�

His hand which has reached the
top of my upper back tightens on my shoulder.

�I mean desolation. Lack of
hope. Passing day after day with the knowledge that the next day is going to be
the same. That nothing is going to change. And that you can never go back to
the life you had before.�

I know he is talking about his
past, yet I still shudder at the parallels he draws to my current situation. Am
I feeling despair? Should I consider myself hopeless and consumed by loss?

I decide I can�t. My insides
have grown too numb for emotions like that. I don�t give an answer to his
question.

His grip on my shoulder becomes painful,
and he reaches with his other hand to grab a fistful of my hair and pull my
head up hard. He holds me there, keeping the pressure up. I can�t help the
whimper that escapes my lips.

�I asked if you have ever felt
such a thing.�

�I don�t know.� I sob.

�Then let me teach you.�

I shudder at the change in the
pitch of his voice when he says that. I know that any touch I receive after
this would be from Gankutsuou.

He pulls my shirt out of my
pants so abruptly I gasp. I try my best to accommodate him as he removes it so
that his fast, violent moves won�t rip it to shreds. The fabric gets caught at
my elbows and before I can do anything about it he has already moved on to my
pants. He hooks one gloved hand at the waist of my pants and pulls them down
viciously, not caring about the belt buckle that is digging into my belly. I
yelp in surprise and reach down with my tangled arms to loosen the belt but he
doesn�t give me the chance. His hands come around swiftly to first divest me of
my belt, then my pants. Soon both are lying at the foot of the bed and I�m
lying there with only my shirt half on.

I�m panting. It�s not as much
the activity as the stress and the anxiety of what is being done to me that
makes my heart pound painfully in my chest. I keep telling myself to stop
deluding myself, that this isn�t really lovemaking but an act of taking. That
he is not my lover sharing an intimate moment with me, but a demon that enjoys
nothing more than forcing pain and humiliation upon my body. All because he hates
me, because I am the fruit of the union that stole everything from him.

Or maybe because I am the Him he
was never able to be. The bizarre equivalent whose best friend didn�t betray
him and whose fianc� didn�t fall out of love with him.

My own existence is impartial in
the matter.

I feel his weight settle on my
back. He is still fully clothed but the scrap of his zipper on my naked skin
tells me he has opened the front of his pants. I feel his erection on the cleft
of my ass but he pulls back right away. He probably deems it too soon. He still
hasn�t enjoyed himself enough.

�Let me teach you what despair
really is.� He purrs into my ear.

He grabs my thighs in a strong
grip and pulls them apart. I stifle a cry, by now I know either Haydee or Peppo
must be outside, wearing a track in the carpet with their insistent pacing. The
last thing I want is to worry them more.

Let them think we�re having fun,
a romp in the hay if must be. Although I doubt anything of my fa�ade is left to
deceive them anymore after repeating the same scenario almost every night for
two and a half months.

Count � no Gankutsuou � leans
over me once again to talk in my ear. This time he is not whispering.

�Despair is watching the one you
love break your heart.�

He puts his hand on my ass and
squeezes hard, testing to see if I would cry out. I grit my teeth.

�Despair is when your loved ones
betray you even though you trusted them.�

Same hand dips down into the
cleft between my cheeks, aided by his right knee and other hand that savagely
force my legs further apart. My breath catches in my throat as I begin to
realize my helplessness.

�Scream,� he drawls, the sing
song purr of Gankutsuou�s voice lacing his speech terribly, �Let me hear your
despair.� At the same time he jams three fingers at once into my opening.

He knows I can�t hold back the
scream; he delights in hearing it as my control breaks down. Dimly, I register
the gasp coming from the other side of the closed door. Damn.

He starts fucking me with the
fingers, his gloved hand mercilessly moving back and forth in the depths of my
guts, I can feel him in me, massaging my insides, irritating the walls of my
most sensitive cavern.

It is worse when he moved to his
mock loving attitude, cooing and stroking me as his hand plunders my body. I
can�t help but to collapse, the sensations too much for me to take, the
contrast between what I so desperately wanted and what is now reality.

I cry out twice more, not sure
if it is from pleasure or pain. I can�t see his face but I feel his smirk on my
back the same way I had felt his stare.

Finally his fingers leave me to
give way to something larger, harder and more unforgiving. I feel his erection
at my entrance, its heat a shocking contrast to the cold detachment of his
gloves. I brace myself, knowing he wouldn�t hold back, give me time to adjust,
give me anything. And just as I expect it he goes in with one smooth, ceaseless
stroke, stealing the breath out of my lungs. I find I can�t even scream, just
open my mouth in a mute imitation.

He is not gentle. Nothing like
the careful, loving touches of the count I used to know, the man I fell in love
with back in Luna so many lifetimes ago. This man is full of rage, full of a
hunger that has a long way to be sated. And I can feel it, in every forceful
thrust, every insistent pull that moves his impressively large organ inside of
me. My eyes fill with tears at the thought of that caring man who has become
this brutal monster bent on punishing me. I begin to sob.

Even as my body surrenders its
fight and becomes pliant in his arms he doesn�t stop. Now each of his thrusts
shoves me further towards the head of the bed while his powerful hands hold me
in place. I lay completely still, unable and unwilling to do anything, just waiting
for it to be over.

It only becomes clear to me when
he reaches around to grab my member in an electrifying grip that he doesn�t
want a docile participant. The sudden jolt that goes through my body shatters
the walls I had built up around me to protect myself with aloofness. I cry out
louder than I had before even though there is no real pain in his action. My
body feels like it�s been thrown into a furnace full of glowing coals after
being bathed in ice water. I feel sweat break all over my skin and start
panting rapidly. I have lost control over all my limbs and that�s when he
starts playing my body like an expert musician.

His hand is now moving up and
down, doing some kind of magic along my member which translates into sparks
that shoot up from my groin. At the same time his movements in my channel
produce the same effect in my back side. My sobs intensify. The feeling is too
much for me to bear and I finally start begging.

�Hakushaku-sama, please--�

�I told you not to call me
that.�

�Edmund--" I try again.

He backhands me so hard on the
mouth I can taste the blood running between my teeth.

�Don�t EVER use that name. I�ll
KILL whoever taught you that cursed name.�

Oh no, Haydee. I panic and try
to speak, spitting blood on the sheets to clear my mouth and explain before I
remember he doesn�t know the truth. He had seen her take care of me after our
�sessions�. But what is actually said and shared in those moments between us is
a secret only we know of. Damn me for letting part of it slip out.

He slaps me again and I pant
hard, unable to get my thoughts into a coherent order.

�Call me by my real name.� He
demands again as he thrusts harder into me, his fist tightening on his rapid
jerks that steal the last of my breath.

I scream, �Gankutsuou,� and my
release pours over his fist as I feel him reach _his_ orgasm inside of me. The
lights dim in front of my eyes yet my hearing is still able to pick up the
sound of anguished sobs coming from the other side of the door before I fall
into complete darkness.

Darkness. There is peace there.

I let go. Taking only the
faintest of my thoughts with me as I fall.

Franz, Eugenie, I won�t ever let harm come to either of you. I will
protect you with everything I�ve got, even if it means the soiling of my own
heart.

Even if it means I have to bury all the pieces of my sacred love.

To be continued�
- 1
- 2
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To bury my sacred love