GLORY & GORE . . . chapter five
in which y/n and kyle finally acknowledge their desires
you remembered watching kyle’s games, watching his ferocity. kyle was a bloodthirsty animal, hiding in the treetops, descending on his prey come nightfall. his mind was his greatest asset. he’d taken the trophy for the most kills in the games, his kill count surpassing even the most formidable of your successors. he’d done it all with a simple dagger, the hilt repurposed into a stunning taser.
you’d taken a lot from his strategies, choosing instead to form alliances and betray them in the dark of the night. your only weapon had been a machete, the metal hilt carved to resemble a saw.
you had every confidence in the two of you in a typical game, but for this one, veterans would be your greatest enemies. they’d all won before, developed their strategies, honed their skills in a life threatening situation. they were familiar with your strategy, with kyle’s, and with each other’s.
“i need to watch the tapes,” you mumbled to kyle. the two of you were gathered in the common area of your district’s floor, liane seated just across the sectional sofa. kelly was perched in the dining room, enjoying a sweet snack as though your entire world wasn’t scheduled to implode within a few short weeks.
“what tapes?” he responded, face scrunched in confusion. you huffed a sigh, rolled your eyes, and looked to liane.
“how can i analyze previous games? i need to know what i’m up against,” you called to her. she chortled, tilted her head back, her glass of liquor spotting on her beige top.
“i can get you the tapes, but you’re gonna need to pick some allies. those are my conditions,” she drawled, her words slurring together. you huffed again, rolled your eyes again, nestled into kyle’s side. his hand fell to your knee, as though it belonged there.
he was oddly comfortable showing such vulnerability in front of someone who could very well use it against you, and you did not quite understand that. was he not suspicious of liane in the slightest?
“fine,” you grumbled. “but i’m only doing it for those tapes. get me the footage and i’ll pick some allies.”
by the afternoon of the second day, liane had come to you with the footage. it was all held within a small hard drive, able to be easily connected to a capitol projector.
“remember our deal. find an alliance.”
the first night was spent fast forwarding through district one’s games, analyzing every strategy you could scour. you were stationed in the floor at the foot of your bed, hunched over a half empty cup of coffee. it was stretching further into the night, growing closer to dawn than to dusk.
kyle padded into the room, rubbing his eye, his face scrunched. the door slid shut behind him, his body collapsing on the carpet beside you. he leaned into you, placing his head on your shoulder. his hair tickled your chin and his lips warmed your exposed shoulder blade.
“why are you still up?” he asked in a gruff voice. you sighed, paused the footage, rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes. you were exhausted. you’d been watching these tapes for at least twelve hours with no breaks. there were weeks worth of footage per tribute, and it was a miracle you’d gotten through even one.
“i’ve been sifting through footage, analyzing. why are you awake?”
kyle puffed a sigh, his cheeks inflating and his eyes squeezing shut. you couldn’t help the soft smile that creeped onto your face, or the hand you ran through his knotted curls. his hair was just as dry as you were used to. you made a mental note to remind him to condition every day. he’d need that piece of advice after he survived the games.
“i was worried about you.” he spoke so softly you almost didn’t hear him. you hummed, your heart speeding in your chest, and leaned your head against his. he picked up the remote and fiddled with the buttons until he found the right one. the footage resumed where you’d left off, zoomed in on district one’s female tribute.
you’d noticed that she and stephen, the male tribute, were similar in style, as were all district ones. they’d team up with district two, take out all the other tributes, and fight the other careers to the death. they tended to lean heavy into mass slaughter rather than mind games, the way you and kyle tended to lean. perhaps their similar fighting style was the first stepping stone towards their capitol marriage.
it didn’t take much for you to call quits on the second district one tribute. there wasn’t much to her besides bloodshed and brutality. district two’s male tribute, craig, was more of a sadistic killer. he preferred torture, slow death, dragging along the inevitable. it was almost painful for you to watch. almost. kyle flinched with every heartless murder craig committed.
“how are we supposed to stand a chance against them?” kyle whispered. you hummed, wrapped an arm around him, pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
“you don’t worry about a single thing, ky. i can take them.” you knew it was an empty promise. there was no telling what would transpire in these games, what route the careers chose to take. the only thing you could promise was your best, and your best was a force to be reckoned with.
“i’ve got your back, too. you know that right?” your heart warmed with the words, a smile forming on your lips despite the gruesome loss playing on screen. kyle was sweet at heart, despite his younger days in the arena. he was a ball of anger, a bomb ready to detonate, but he never did so without a reason. you admired that about him — his willingness to explode for causes he believed in.
he had a heart of gold, though. he was consistently looking out for you, even before your family had been taken from you. once he’d won the games and gained his monthly fortune, he’d spent a good portion on your family. you’d spent your entire life until your games, nearly three years, attempting to repay him. you didn’t think you ever could, in all honesty. kyle had his entire family to support without throwing yours on his roster, but he did so in a heartbeat, and for that you were grateful.
“we’re in this together,” you mumbled, your fingers lacing with his over his shoulder. “you and i against the world.” he was quiet for a moment, breathing so evenly you were sure he was asleep. it wasn’t until he cringed, a splash of blood hitting one of the cameras displayed brightly on the hologram, that you knew he was awake. he’d never been so calm, so still around you. you’d never known him to be so relaxed. he was always so high strung, fidgeting, consistently moving his legs. he was completely relaxed now, limp against your body, face pressed to your chest.
“don’t think i’ve ever been so relaxed in my life.” his words were whispered, shy, lost in the dips of your clavicle. you chuckled and ran your hand through his unkempt curls, adjusting into a more comfortable position on the hardwood floor. kyle leaned further into you, his lips gently brushing the space between your collarbone and your neck. the touch was featherlight, sending a shiver down your spine.
“you should rest. we’ve got the parade tomorrow,” you breathed. kyle sighed, breath fanning over your prickling skin. his hair tickled your chin as he shook his head.
“i don’t think i could if i wanted to,” he muttered. you frowned, turned off the projection, focused your attention on the ginger practically in your lap. his eyes glittered in the low light of your lamp in the corner, shadows caressing the dips of his cheekbones and eye sockets. even in the poor, shadowed lighting, you could see the freckles spotting his upper lip.
“why’s that?” you could barely speak around the lump in your throat, swallowing it thickly. being so close to him, closer than you’d ever been, was nerve wracking. everything about him was nerve wracking. knowing the depths of his character, the darkest parts of him, the lightest parts of him, was nerve wracking. it was an addiction in and of itself. you didn’t think you could tear your eyes away from his tongue wetting his chapped lips if you wanted to.
“i’d be too busy thinking about you. thinking about what i should’ve said, what i should’ve done.” there was a pause, in which you caught his eyes, the heat reflecting in their molten depths. “thinking about how i should’ve kissed you.”
your heart jumped to your throat, your breath catching. kyle straightened himself out, his head leaning down to gaze into your eyes. you couldn’t tear yourself away, caught in the trap of his allurement. you shivered under the gentle touch of his fingertips to your cheekbone, the caress of his palm to your jawbone.
you didn’t want to love him. you didn’t want to need him. but, to your dismay, you were starting to realize how little your wants mattered. there was something about kyle that drew you in, that forced you to desire him, that suffocated you with its incessant whispering of his name. he was forcing you to love him, to care for him, to need him on such a base level that you couldn’t exist if not for him.
“why don't you?” your breaths came in shallow, discreet gasps, your fingertips shaking and heart beating in your throat. something about kyle was addicting, entrapping, influential, dangerous. you were crossing a threshold you knew you’d never be able to cross back through.
“that’s a good question,” he hummed. his fingertips traced the edge of your jawline, eyes dropped to follow them. “why don’t i?”
“you’re scared,” you breathed. every movement of his body, every beat of your heart, instilled a new wave of nervous fear in your bones. if anyone was scared, it was you.
“i’m not.” it was a lie. you could feel his pulse running against the hand you’d placed on his chest. “but i think you are.” that was true. everything in you was screaming ‘run. run as far as you can, and don’t come back.’ there was a part of you that whispered ‘stay with him. you need him.’
“i’m not.” kyle scoffed, flattened his palm against the side of your neck, tilted his head to the side. his eyes glimmered when you looked into them, the brightest expression of love you’d ever seen held deep within them. you knew he could see the fright on your face, the way your lips trembled, the bead of sweat rolling down your temple. “okay, maybe i am.”
“i knew you were. you don’t have to be scared of me.” his voice was shaky, his whispers airy and depraved. you knew what he wanted, and that scared you. it scared you that he wanted it, and it scared you more that you did too.
“i know. i’m not scared of you. i’m scared of me,” you admitted, your eyes shamefully downcast to the dips of his collarbone. kyle was a defined man, his bone structure harsh and his features sharp. there was a hard angle where his jaw met his throat, and where his throat met his shoulders, and where his shoulders met his biceps. his legs were the same, strong muscle tapering to a pronounced kneecap and into a rounded calve.
“why?” he asked, his entire hand eclipsing the side of your face. you chuckled, the sound airy, as your eyes traced the prominent vein popping from his neck. you followed it to his jaw, and to his full lips, and to his smiling eyes.
“i shouldn’t want you the way i do, in the situation we’re in, and i’m terrified. i’ve never wanted someone this way before.”
“don’t be fearful of your desire, dearest. it’s the one thing that’s kept you going this long,” he hushed, nose brushing yours. you closed your eyes on instinct, exhaled shakily, weaved your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. “let it guide you, not inhibit you.”
you waited no more than a second before his lips devoured yours, his kiss searing against your trembling mouth. his fingers bruised your skin, pulling you closer, and closer, until you were straddling his lap. he held you by the waist, pressed his chest to yours, trailed his touch beneath your shirt to caress your bare skin.
you were a nervous wreck atop him, breathy sighs leaving your lips with every press of his to your neck and jaw. you hadn’t released your hold of his shirt in quite some time, your fingers tangled in the thin fabric, knuckles shaking against his soft chest. you were entirely caught in the feeling of his skin sliding against yours, his warm breath caressing your prickling nerves, his tongue brushing your bottom lip. he was a good kisser. you were realizing this as your legs trembled on either side of him.
“please don’t hurt me,” you whispered between kisses, eyes squeezed shut as tightly as you could get them. kyle took your face in his palms and drew his mouth away entirely, his lips puffy and smiling when you finally met his gaze.
“i wouldn’t dream of it. you and me against the world, remember?” he mumbled, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. “you should get some sleep. no offense, but you look like you’ve been run over by a train.” the chuckle punctuating his statement didn’t make it any less true. you knew you looked rough. the days with little to no sleep were adding up in the bags beneath your eyes. even so, lava burned in your depths, aching for him and only him.
“i don’t need rest,” you breathed, leaning in for another kiss. kyle indulged you, his lips moving fluidly with yours, your nails embedding their prints into the lean muscle of his back. he breathed shakily against you, his mouth bruisingly caressing yours. you felt a low hum bubbling in your chest, drawn out by his fingers groping your thighs.
“don’t let me continue. you won’t like it if i do,” he gasped into your mouth, teeth grazing your lower lip. you could feel the sweat beginning to gather on your skin, dampening your shirt. something about kyle was so brazen, so heated. you’d never sweat like this before, even in the adrenaline rush of the games, or the training leading up to it. even in the summer heat, without a single drop of water.
“i want to. i want you.” you weren’t lying. you weren’t one for lying, even when it was a technical necessity. everything in you was screaming for every piece of him, begging for it, burning for it. your every nerve was alight, buzzing beneath his bruising touch and starving lips.
“i would die for you.” his words struck you harder than any ax could. having someone just as willing to die for you as you were for them was an odd experience, an experience you hadn’t prepared yourself for in the slightest. you were winded, wheezing and gasping as kyle pressed open mouthed kisses to the side of your throat.
“you’ll never have to,” you whimpered, subtly grinding your hips against kyle’s. the groan he let out was soft, buzzing on repeat in your ears, drenching you from the core outward. you could feel his eagerness welling beneath your hips, pressing into the crevices of your lower half. you knew he could feel yours, your loose trousers growing damp as his hands clawed at your ass.
“god, please take these off,” he rushed, tongue stumbling over his words and over your lips. you couldn’t bring yourself to find a reason why you shouldn’t, drunken by the loving haze he’d entrapped you in. your hips met the cold hardwood, fingers shaking as they pried your bottoms from your body. kyle tore your shirt over your head, breathless as he took in every exposed piece of skin his widened eyes could find.
“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered as he hastily threw his own top to the other side of the room. you couldn’t find the air in your lungs, gaze trained on the scars littering his chest. kyle would never cease to amaze you, even in the horrific, shredded state his chest remained in. long, jagged scars raised the skin of his chest, one just beneath his ribs and the other two parallel over his heart. you couldn’t resist reaching to touch him, dusting over the remnants of his days in the arena.
“don’t look at them,” he mumbled, ashamed and dejected. you dipped your head, shimmying slightly off his lap, and pressed a few chaste kisses to the torn skin of his chest. his breath hitched, his hand knotting in your hair.
“is this why you never take your shirt off around me?” you breathed, tracing each line burrowed in his lean chest muscles. he hesitated, then nodded, and brought you in for another kiss. you didn’t fight him, didn’t fight to continue the conversation. you melted into him, fingers twisting in his curly hair, hips subtly rocking into his. he was a breathy mess, letting out the smallest sounds, your lips swallowing every single one. you’d never been so eager to touch a human being before. never so desperate to show your affection.
it took only a few moments for kyle to pry his pajama bottoms from his body, during which he slid you into the floor. your bare thighs touched the hardwood and a shiver rippled down your spine from the chill running over your bottom half. his hands were unrelenting, pushing your pliant body into the floor, squeezing your sides like you’d disappear if he stopped. which, in a sense, it was completely rational. you were staring death in the face, and with each kiss and each movement of his hips, kyle was laughing right back at it.
“i need you,” he whispered into your tongue, tugging at your underwear. you could only bear a nod, throat riddled with fear, uncertainty clawing at your chest. you’d never done any of this before, never felt touch like this, never let yourself be vulnerable enough to engage in such lewd activities. it only made sense for kyle to be your first, and hopefully you his.
all caution thrown to the wind, you pulled your underwear off, and kyle tossed his across the room. the sight uncovered before you made you gulp. he was large, well endowed, hiding much more than you imagined you could take. your loins ached at the thought.
you had no time to dwell on the large package he’d kept hidden in his trousers, two long fingers sliding into you with such suddenness you couldn’t hold back the drawn out noise boiling in your chest. being touched like this… it was pleasant, overwhelmingly so, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. you writhed on the floor of your tribute quarters, fingers locked into his hair, eyes squeezed shut. you were shaking. a coil in your stomach was tightening, like a spring ready to snap. you couldn’t find the willpower to stop, lost in the pleasure of his fingers stroking your innards with such careful precision you doubted he was a virgin.
“kyle,” you gasped, back pulling off the floor, fingernails digging into his scalp. “kyle, i-“ you didn’t get to finish, your mind disappearing into a void, your legs quaking and dripping heat spasming against his fingers. coming back down, you spotted the utter shock paling his face, his fingers sliding out with dampened ease. a slight smile quirked his lips. you hated to admit it, but you certainly had a thing for his fingers. especially as he licked them clean of your nether’s juices.
“you’re too much,” he managed to chuckle, leaning so close your hardened nipples brushed his rib cage. you couldn’t help the high pitched moan ripped from your body, especially as something hard prodded at the same hole his fingers had just worked their magic on. a glance down revealed kyle’s cock, hard and swollen, prodding at your aching cunt. you widened your legs and held your breath in anticipation.
the first half entered with striking ease, forcefully expanding your inner walls to accommodate. it was a sickly sweet sensation, bordering on painful. the rest of it pushed in abruptly, pushing you apart far too rapidly for your body seemingly to handle. you could’ve cried from the tingle of unease, feeling raw and opened and vulnerable beneath the man you’d come to adore.
kyle’s face was tight, drawn up into a concentrated scowl, eyes squeezed shut and breath held in his chest. he didn’t move an inch, a patch of orange hair brushing your labia, thighs flush with yours. it took a moment to adjust to the new sensation burrowed within you. for the sensation to transform into the strangest pleasure you’d ever felt. an experimental wiggle of your hips, a nod, and a tentative move in and out. he brushed every nerve ending spanning your insides, every piece of your body, every spot you could ever think of.
it was so pleasurable you couldn’t breathe. every nerve ending was alight, buzzing under your skin with want. you wanted every piece of him, every inch of his body touching yours. his lips met yours in a bruising kiss, tongue brushing against yours, every tentative stroke of his hips and his mouth sending a jolt of electricity to the bridge between your bodies.
“i’m gonna-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence, a quaking sigh rippling through his chest. you wanted him, every inch to the fullest, every bit of him you could have. if this was it, your final chance at intimacy with your best friend, you were going to steal it and indulge in it and trap it within the binds of your rib cage. tomorrow wasn’t promised. tonight was the only thing that mattered.
his hips stuttered, a breathy moan passing from his throat to yours, a foreign warmth spotting your lower stomach. you could feel it leaking over your skin, pooling beneath you, and never once did you let him break the kiss. never once did you let him go. you didn’t think you could if you wanted to. arena be damned, kyle was yours, and you drank him like the last few drops of water left on the planet.
