Charcoal Ch. 11

Soul only pulled back when his still tender lungs reminded him that oxygen was a necessity and not a luxury. Soul opened his eyes to look at the face of his Scott, his love, and saw his own feelings reflected back at him. He watched love, he watched relief, and finally he watched the spark of lust grow into a fire that matched to one growing inside himself.

"Please, make lo- fuck to me?" Soul's voice was soft and he didn't know what he was saying and he didn't care until Scott began to laugh.

"Make fuck to you? That sounds fun but care to explain?"

"Fuck, love me, fuck me, just do something I love you and I suck at words, I have to show you!" Soul could feel his flush darken but he paid himself no mind. He had attention only for Scott and getting his clothes off. He started with Scott's shirt because it was already in his hands. When the shirt was gone he pulled off his own and was reaching for the drawstring on Scott's pants when his hands were caught in a gentle grip.

"You were literally dead three days ago and you haven't eaten, and you just woke up-" There was a hint of worry mixed with the urgency in Scott's eyes and Soul hated it. He was alive damn it and he was going to get what he wanted.

"Food will be there later." He jerked his hands but they were firmly caught.

"I'll be here later too." Soul wailed in frustration and when Scott let him go he flopped onto his back and pulled off his own pants. The feel of the sheets against his skin was almost more than he could bear. It was almost worse than the compulsion from Sylvia because there was no feeling of wrongness to temper the feeling. He writhed and palmed his cock. It hurt it felt so good and Soul bit his lip just hard enough to draw blood. But instead of diffusing the feeling it added to the overload of sensation flooding his synapses. He froze for a moment stunned by the sudden intensity of his feeling. And in that moment he could have sworn that a soft voice whispered to him enjoy life, enjoy your body, enjoy love.

"Soul?" Scott looked down at him and he reached yanking Scott down for a kiss, determined to get when he wanted Soul flipped them so he was sitting securely on Scott's stomach. He ground against the firm muscles beneath him and knew that he could come easily just like this, the warm friction of Scott's skin almost more than he could comprehend, but still he wanted more. Scott had finally realized that Soul was not going to take his recent death as an excuse and held him tightly, his fingers digging into the muscles of his ass, it felt amazing and still Soul wanted more. He ground harder and leaned down for a kiss, he didn't pull away before asking for lube, speaking against Scott's lips, hoping that Scott would have some nearby because if he didn't Soul was going to hope spit worked better than he had heard. Luckily he didn't have to find out because Scott was handing him a small bottle.

Soul growled in frustration when the small cap was too difficult for his shaking hands to open. He was about to give up again but Scott flipped them again and before he had regained his equilibrium Scott was rubbing a cool slick finger against his hole and Soul was able to breathe. Finally they were getting somewhere.

As Soul sighed Scott slid two finders inside him. The burn was intense but Soul didn't mind, he loved every moment- but his desire for more hadn't left him. He writhed on Scott's fingers unaware of the myriad sounds he was making. When he found his voice the only words that he could find were variations on more, harder, please, and Scott.

When Scott's third finger did little to alleviate the emptiness that haunted Soul he wrapped his legs tighter around Scott and flipped them again. The movement dislodged Scott's fingers but Soul didn't mind because he was able to, without hesitation, slide down the rigid pole of Scott's erection until he sat flush to Scott's hips and he could breathe again.

"Oh fuck." Soul would have been satisfied to just sit for a moment and process the burn, the pleasure, and the soul deep completeness he felt, but Scott had different plans.

"Potty mouth." Scott said, and thrust up, he couldn't go deeper but the movement shifted their position so he ground against Soul's prostate and Soul gasped- a breath away from climax. He leaned forward to rest his hands on Scott's chest and when Scott repeated his action the sensation was even more intense. Soul flinched and tried to conceptualize the feeling but Scott wasn't giving him any time to think, he kept thrusting, kept grinding and Soul's ability to even try to think fled, all he could do was hold on and try to breathe. He saw lights floating in front of his eyes but it was nothing compared to the fireworks that were building to an incomprehensible climax. Soul's muscles were clenching and releasing almost randomly, his legs shook and if his elbows weren't locked he would have fallen forward into Scott, he gasped as the feeling grew larger than his body and in a moment he was sure he wouldn't survive, the fear only made the rapture more complete and in a moment of clarity Soul knew that bond or not he would never be able to live without Scott.

The feeling of physical release was almost secondary to the release of emotion. Soul was gasping and tears were falling down his cheeks as he laid his head against Scott's chest, the warmth of his seed between them and the feeling of Scott's release inside him soothed his burning skin. His muscles were like water and he couldn't have moved for anything. Soul felt the hand on his back begin to move, stroking his sweat soaked back, soothing his breathing, but not his tears. Soul let himself feel the anguish from the whole year, the confusion, the relief, the fear and the pain. He let himself feel how tired he was, from uncertainty and from death. He had slept for days but his body had no fuel. He had burned more than he had in reserves and he was completely empty. He had only tears left and in a few moments even those were gone. Unable to do a thing more Soul passed out completely.

*

Soul woke again hours later and felt exactly how expected to feel. Revived, but sore. He could feel his death and revival in his bones. The need to experience life as intensely as he could was no longer sustaining him and his stomach gnawed at him. His eyes opened to an empty room. And fear flooded him. He was alone in a room painted with poppies too familiar to be safe.

Before Soul could work himself into too horrible a panic the door opened and the room was filled with the smell of chicken soup and warm bread. His stomach gave a roar of approval. Scott put the food on a side table and pulled Soul into a sitting position against the pillows before placing a pillow on his lap.

"I couldn't find a tray so no spilling." And even though the soup was from a can it was the best thing Soul had ever tasted.

Soul wanted to discuss all that he had learned, but after he had finished the soup he couldn't stay awake for a moment longer. He knew that Scott was probably tired of just watching him sleep but he couldn't resist his body's demands. He only had the presence of mind to hand the empty bowl to Scott before sliding back under the covers and falling asleep again.

*

Soul opened his eyes and for a moment he thought he was blind. There was no light in the room, and he knew that he was alone. He remembered after sitting up that he was not in the scarlet room and decided not to try and find the door. He still wasn't feeling himself and he had no idea how to get anywhere from where he was. It was difficult to wait, but he did. There was a feeling that something had changed in the house, something significant. It felt new but not entirely, something had been different since the first time he woke, he just hadn't had the time to consciously think about it.

The house was dark, silent, as it had been before Soul's attempt to leave this world, but this silence was different. There wasn't the feeling of oppression; it was as if the house had released tension. Soul had never felt entirely comfortable in the house, and he didn't feel entirely comfortable in the darkness, alone, but it was a different unease. It was anticipation instead of dread. Soul sat and felt, and looked for the words to recount his experience. He tried to remember the invisible being's words exactly and found he could not, but the impressions he was left with were strong. Soul was confidant he knew what Sylvia was trying to do, and he was confidant that she would not be able to accomplish her goals.

Soul was getting decidedly tired of sitting alone in the dark when the door opened. Even the slight illumination from the hall seemed bright. Soul's eyes easily picked up Scott's face in the flickering light.

"The power has gone out. I brought a candle." It would have been romantic if Soul weren't so anxious to talk, finally. He patted the bed beside him, unwilling to stand even with the light of the candle. Scott set the candle on the bedside table where Soul's soup had rested hours before and sat cross-legged on the bed.

Soul opened his mouth for his carefully thought out narrative, but Scott beat him to the punch.

"Mother, Sylvia, is really not doing well. She hasn't been since- well since the bond, and she has gotten even worse since it was broken. Apparently she doesn't have that much power of her own. The bond, or its lack of completion was giving her the power."

Soul frowned, she had made the bond herself it didn't makes sense-

"How did she get power from something she created?" Soul felt the bed shift slightly as Scott shrugged.

"I don't understand it really. Something about potential energy, she should have known that he power couldn't last but she ignored it. I think so much time passed she didn't really remember how little Gift she had." Soul still didn't understand but he had more questions.

"Is she going to be okay?"

"She could be, maybe. But the people she called to help her- aren't happy. It seems that her power had greater reach than we thought. They aren't loyal to her, not really. She has no one left. I don't think that anyone will take care of her. I will miss her but I couldn't- her time has passed."

Scott rubbed his face and Soul guessed he was crying. He didn't mention it, he hated Sylvia but knew that Scott loved her, and would always lover her even when her influence was completely gone. And with this new information he might not have to share his plan, Sylvia was done and all Soul had to do was make sure Scott would be alright without her.

Soul loved his mother even though he didn't know her, he loved her for her intentions, and for her sacrifice even if he would have given almost anything to have really met her. Maybe someday, somehow he would. He would have a lot of time and many opportunities to ask questions once he died. And hopefully he would have enough time to come up with clever questions to ask her.

"They want to burn it." Scott said suddenly. "They want to burn the house to the ground." Soul looked up sharply, not realizing how deeply he had fallen into his thoughts.

"Why?"

"Because of whatever she was doing. It's not safe to leave it here, just in case she does survive, in case someone else wants what she wants, but it's my home, I don't know where else to go."

Scott was definitely crying now and Soul didn't know how to soothe him. He could always go home even if there was no one waiting for him. He guessed they could go back to school but that wasn't really a home, and it seemed so unnecessary now, what were they going to do? Soul wrapped himself around Scott, knowing his words would do nothing to soothe him, and they sat, rocking gently for many minutes, until the smell of smoke curled softly, but persistently under the door.

"Oh no" Scott whispered when it was certain the smell wasn't an accident. "I asked them to wait." But they hadn't, whoever they were, and they had to leave, immediately.

*

Soul had no idea where they were going, it was dark and they had left the candle in the room. They had nothing but the clothes they were wearing and each other. Soul followed Scott blindly hoping they could beat the flames, and when they burst through the final door into the garden the soft illumination of the stars was like heaven. The air was crisp with just the hint of a chill, but the heat from the already burning house was oppressive. There was already a group watching, and they joined them.

The fire was almost beautiful in its destruction. The sound of flames roaring and the shattering of glass and loud cracks of beams breaking filled the night, louder than Soul would have imagined, and it was awe inspiring to see how quickly the fire destroyed the massive house and all the misery it had caused. It had begun to collapse in on itself when Scott broke the cacophonous silence.

"Where is mother?" Eyes dropped to the ground, and for a moment no one spoke.

"She didn't make it out." Nova said finally, softly, and even though he sounded almost mournful everyone knew it hadn't been an accident. Soul wrapped his arm around Scott, knowing it was an impossible thing to hear, and an even worse implication, but Scott held his head high.

"I guess we are finally free." There were nods all around, but Soul saw one wicked smile, almost hidden by soft wavy hair, an expression he had never expected to see on Josie's face.

*****

The end? I would love to hear your comments, they make me want to keep writing.