Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Anger ❯ Anger ( Chapter 1 )

Anger
An Enemies with Benefits universe fic by Setsuna Jikan

Vincent snarled, hurling the knife away from him violently. Burying his face in his hands, he ran them upwards to clench at his hair, tugging hopelessly. His wrist stung, but he was so far removed from the pain he barely noticed. What he did feel was anger. He was weak, and he knew it.
An angry sob tore its way out of his throat and he clenched his teeth harder. No, he wouldn't cry. His fucking pride wouldn't let him. Though where the hell did his pride ever get him, anyway? Sitting on the floor against his bed and hugging his knees, that's where. With a lovely red stain marring the wall where his knife hit this time.
He pulled his right arm away from his head, shuddering, and stared at the bleeding slashes across his wrist; his fist clenched in anger. Gods, he was so weak! Every fucking time he felt a little down he's take his trusty knife and carve the living hell out of his arms or whatever flesh looked particularly appealing at the moment. Then, as soon as the downess started to fade he's realize what he was doing and he'd fucking hate himself for it. His wrist hadn't even healed this time; it was getting worse. He was getting worse. One day, a day that seemed to be getting closer and closer to the present, he'd cut too deep and all his blood would drain from his body. And what bothered him the most about that was not the knowledge that he might kill himself but that he didn't really care one way or another.
"Damnit," he hissed, wanting to butcher his poor flesh even farther. He dug his nails into the slowly bleeding mess, lighting fresh pain and blood as he squeezed tightly and ripped away. Glaring hotly, he fished bloody fingers under his bed for his kit, pulling the disinfectant out with a growl. Grabbing a cloth, he poured the hydrogen peroxide all over it until his fingers on the other side started to bubble. With barely a grimace, he slammed the cloth on his arm, relishing in the pain as the liquid bubbled and burned in his cuts. Roughly, not bothering to be gentle, he scrubbed and wiped at his arms until he'd gotten most of the blood off. Grabbing a roll of bandages, he wrapped his wrist up tightly while cursing at himself, tying it off abruptly.
He stood, packing the kit back up before striding angrily towards his window. Grabbing the knife off the floor, he swiped it across his pants before flicking the blade closed and shoving it in his pocket. He unlocked the new bolts on his window quickly, abruptly. Slamming the window shut after climbing out, he locked it in the same manner. He steadily made his way towards the club; it'd be awhile before he'd safe up the money for that sweet bike he'd seen at the shop. If he could save enough. He punched a wall harshly before rounding the bend, ignoring the pain in his knuckles and the brick dust that flaked off. After a few blocks, he could hear the pulsing beat of the bass but even that couldn't curb the raw, angry feeling coiling, withering, inside him. He waved jerkily to the bouncer on duty, strolling inside without pause. Red eyes scanned the club, cruelly checking every person out. He wanted to be fucked, he wanted to fucking go away even if it was only for fifteen minutes. Spotting a likely candidate, he made his way to the bar. There, a man with short green hair perched on a stool, looking at the club coldly and disdainfully. Vincent strolled up to him, resting against the bar.
"Hey, hot stuff, wanna fuck?" he asked bluntly, fixing a cold smile to his face. The man looked him over once and nodded.
"How much?" he asked bluntly, and Vincent thought about it.
"Two hundred bucks for a fuck and all the violence you want," he said flatly, and the man nodded. Without saying a word, he grabbed Vincent and dragged him into a privacy room, throwing him inside boldly. Locking the door, he picked Vincent up and slammed him against the wall. His head connected with a crack and Vincent hisses, eyes screwing up in pain. The man nodded sharply and crashed their lips together, teeth cutting Vincent's lips open as his wet tongue plunged inwards. Vincent groaned, pulling the man closer, grinding upwards against leather clad hips, his own leather getting tighter. The man threw him on the floor, sitting on his stomach heavily as he kissed him again, digging his nails into Vincent's face a scalp. Vincent bucked upwards, wanting more friction, and a hand slammed into his face. Complying, he went limp even though the man continued to abuse his mouth and face, wringing frustrated moans and whines. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the man ripped off both their pants, sliding a lubricated condom on before plowing in. Vincent screamed harshly, bucking his hips downwards to meet those powerful thrusts. The climax tore through them both harshly and the man got up, throwing his condom into the trash before pulling up his pants, leaving after tossing two c-notes to the ground. Vincent lay there for a few more minutes before crawling to his feet, pulling his pants up and fastening them in quick motions. He scooped up the money and stormed out, throwing himself onto one of the stools as he glared at the bar's marred surface.
"Get me a fucking beer," he snarled at the bartender, pissed that even sex hadn't managed to cool him down. A glass was slammed down in front of his face, beer splashing into his eyes and he cursed. "What's the fucking idea?!" he demanded, finally looking up at the bartender to shoot a nasty glare. Standing impassively behind the counter was a girl with golden blonde hair that was pulled into a million braids, all falling to the tip of her ass. She wore a loose black tank that clearly, vividly, showed off all of her various scars. Vincent grimaced and knocked back a slug of his beer. Setsuna. Just what he needed.
"Hello, Vincent," she said coldly, placing the glass she'd just finished cleaning onto the rack above. He flinched, sending her the darkest glare he could manage.
"Fuck off, Sets," he snarled into his drink, feeling the burn as the dark liquid slid down his throat. She arched an eyebrow at him sardonically.
"And here I thought you already did that," she remarked sarcastically, picking up another class to clean it. He bared his teeth at her.
"I'm in a real bad move right now, Sets, so just leave me the hell alone," he bit out tersely, taking another slug. Sets nodded.
"Of course you are." If she had even sounded the least bit condescending, Vincent would have punched her. But she didn't, and he felt that tight coil inside of him begin to loosen slightly. He ducked his head, letting his long raven hair to shield his eyes; he didn't want to talk anymore. Which is why she continued. "Care to say why or shall I just infer and spin my own little web." Vincent glanced up at her before looking back down.
"I sliced myself open again." She nodded.
"Yes, the fresh bandage on your wrist attests to this. What of it." He looked up and gave her a nasty look.
"It makes me angry that I can do something so pathetic!" he burst out, slamming his fists down. The coil was loosening even more. Setsuna shrugged.
"So stop doing it."
"I don't even know what makes me do it in the first place!" he shouted angrily, gesturing wildly. The ache in his arm was beginning to become more pronounced.
"Then find out." He laughed bitterly.
"I wish it was a simple as you make it seem," he whispered, feeling the last of his anger dissipate, leaving him hollow and weary. Setsuna frowned softly and leaned forward, putting the glass down so she could hug Vincent from across the bar, ignoring the uncomfortable pain the action caused. She could ignore a little pain for her distraught friend, especially when said friend slumped in her arms.
"Let it go, Vincent," she whispered, but he shook his head. He couldn't, and he doubted that he ever would. Breaking the hug he stood up, moving to throw some money down on the bar. Setsuna waved his gesture away. "It's on the house. Go home, Vincent," she commanded softly and he nodded.
"Sure." And he melted back into the gyrating field of bodies, making his way home. Setsuna watched him until he reached the door, but soon turned back to her work. He'd be okay, but right now she had drinks to make and customers to tend.

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AN: Sorry for the anger in this chapter, I'm not in a good mood right now and I don't know why. I just really hope I'm not slipping again; having only two good months would really, really suck. Just a note, Vincent is either 17 or nearly so, so this is pre-EwB.
Setsuna, Strawberries 'n' Creme (the club), Vincent, and green-haired man all belong to me.
Sets, out.
::end transmission::