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Unknown, Unknowns	By : DanceofDarkness Category: +1 through F > Boondocks, The Views: 2772 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Boondocks, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: Sadly I still down own the Boondocks cries

Gin woke violently his entire body arching backwards as if in agony, accidently flinging Ed's half asleep form from his chest. The heir gave an undignified squall as he tossed to floor in a heap of silken sheets and pillows.

“Gin the fuck!? The hell s’wrong wit you…throwin somebody outta they own God damn bed…you stupid fuc….”

Ed stopped in mid-rant his rage bleeding away when he saw the look on his lovers face. Gin was sitting rigidly forward, sweat dripping from his face, gripping the sheet so tightly that his knuckles were white. He was trembling with the effort to bite back the sobs that threatened to rob him of his senses.

His teeth were clenched his mind still seized in the vicious jaws of his nightmare. He turned to face Ed his eyes churning with such raw emotion that the redhead felt a thin thread of fear trace down his spine. Gin suddenly lurched forward, gripping Ed around the shoulders and fell to floor with him, pinning his unresisting form underneath his body.

He ran his hands over Ed's chest and naked abdomen his fingers slinking between his thighs and trailing over his quivering sides. He pressed hot, lingering kisses every where he could reach, all while muttering breathless words that Ed couldn’t understand.

This lasted several moments and ended with Gin burying his head against Ed's shoulder. The redhead licked his dry lips gently embraced Gin. This was something he had never experienced with his usually calm lover, and it terrified him. Gin was always in control, hell he even had a firm grip on diplomacy when the mood took him.

But the roiling, azure fire that had roared though Gin’s eyes were even now simmering with such raw anguish that it was almost scalding. It made icy terror creep along Ed's insides. Gin’s panting breath brushed against his neck and he leaned forward to gently speak in his lover’s ear.

“Gin wus wrong wit you…an don you dare lie ta me like ya have been damn it,”

He felt his lover stiffen against his body and turn his face up to look at him with smoldering eyes,

“Aint nuthin Eddie baby…jus a…n-nightmare thas all….,”

“Musta been one hell f’a nighmare ta sling me outta bed like that,”

A smile trickled across Gin’s lips and soft laugh spilled from his throat the shadows of his dream slowly receding to lurk in the back of his mind. Restrained by Ed's voice,

“M’sorry want me ta make it up ta you Red?”

He slowly crawled up Ed's body a different kind of fire beginning to kindle in his eyes.

“I could throw inta bed…or pin you agains’ a wall…what do you say Eddie baby…m’yours,”

Ed leaned back a little his eyes narrowing almost in imitation of his grandfather when he was presented with something he really wanted. He absently twisted his fingers around a lock of Gin’s hair, softly moaning his lover tilted his head to side nuzzling his palm and nipping at his teasing hand.

“I think I know what I wan ya ta do Gin…”

Ed softly bit his lower lip, his fingers entwined in the sheets. A shutter convulsed though his body and he arched his back, his climax silent, broken only by a gasp that poured from between his lips.

He closed his eyes and lay there his chest heaving. Turning to nuzzle Gin’s neck when he felt his lover shift back up to straddle Ed's hips and lean down for a kiss. Ed smiled into the gentle caress lifting his shoulders when he felt Gin’s hands slid beneath his back.

The blond possessively clutched his lover against his body his fingers roaming across Ed's skin, touching everything he could. He had to assure him self that this was real…that there no gaping holes of gore, or dripping blood, or accusing eyes. No…Ed was here, and panting beneath him, moaning for him, calling his name…loving him…alive.

Gin clenched his jaw tilting his head down and nibbling on Ed's shoulder…it wasn’t enough that he could feel the redheads heat surround him…or hear his groans of passion…he had to taste him.

Gin name tumbled from Ed's lips like a splintered prayer, and he pressed himself into his lovers demanding touch. Gin trailed hot lurid kisses to his lovers ear, whispering to him, reassuring him self,

“Love you Eddie baby…love you more th’n anythin,”

More then money, the agency, more then his life….

Ed shivered against his words, he was undone by them, bound by them, and fuck it felt good. The redhead bucked his hips forward his movements becoming elegantly sinful.

He buried his face against Gin’s shoulder torn to pieces by the words that flowed breathlessly against his ear, that trickled like seething quick-silver down his spine. His motions were becoming one with Gin’s and every breath he took only tightened the tension that sang though his body.

His ragged breath echoed in his ears mixing with Gin’s silken words of love. Then his world shattered and his soul was stolen from his trembling body and flung to the merciful depths of oblivion. He went limp in his lovers arms his head lulling back against the bed fading bliss pitching though his veins.

Gin was slouched against him still gripping his shoulders, pressed flush against Ed's exhausted body. They remained like that for a long time, with Gin’s body draped over Ed as if he were shielding him from something unspeakable.

Ed didn’t mind this, he enjoyed it, it was nice to think he was something worth protecting.

“So…does this make up f’me tossin you outta bed?”

Ed lightly kissed his lovers neck, smiling at the pleading tone in Gin’s voice,

“I don’ know…I mean it wus a’ight…I guess,”

He laughed when he felt strong fingers jab him in the ribs,

“You guess huh…the noises you was makin didn’ leave any room f’guessin.”

Ed grinned at him catching his lovers teasing fingers in his hands; he brought them to his mouth and slowly kissed the tips. Relishing the look that closed Gin’s features,

“Damn it Ed…I don how I keep m’hans offa you,”

The heir gave him a crooked leer and released his hands stretching against Gin’s body, he yawned.

“You neva keep yo hands off me…s’like you afraid m’gonna get shot or some shit….”

He trailed off when he felt Gin tense against him, the teasing light that had flickered in his eyes was gone and replaced with icy…terror…but Gin wasn’t afraid of anything. The voice that reached his ears was strained, almost broken….

“Would neva let nuthin like tha happen ta you Ed…you understan’ me…nuthin….”

Gins fingers tightened on Ed's back his nails digging into his skin. The redhead winced, snared by the wrathful tone that etched his lover’s words. He had heard Gin speak like this before and the cold fury of his voice made him shutter and almost forget how to speak. This how Gin sounded when he was serious…and threatening, it was how he sounded when he killed men.

“Y-yea Gin…an… I-I mean I would do th’same f’you,”

He smirked, relaxing when he felt his lover ease his grip,

“Aint nuthin ever gonna come b’tween you an me…jus’ like we promised remem’er,”

Gin let out a rattling breath the vehemence flickering from his eyes,

“I know Eddie baby…I know,"
Ed pressed his forehead against the cool tile of the shower allowing the scalding water to wash over his back relaxing the sore muscles there. He drew in a breath filled with stream and the smoky scent of soap.

Something was wrong with Gin…but he couldn’t figure out what it was exactly.

Usually when he woke in the mornings he would find himself embraced against Gin’s body, but now he would often wake to find him self alone with a hastily written message on the bedside table.

Not that it bothered him…it was just…. Why the fuck would Gin leave in the middle of the God damn night?

But it wasn’t just this most of the time Gin would return with a fresh bruise on his face or a raw welt marring his skin. When Ed would ask him about it he would just brush it off making up some excuse that Ed believed because…because…it made everything alright.

Ed swallowed pushing him self away from the wall, hot water pouring over his head attempting to washing away the wicked doubt that slithered though his mind. Gin wouldn’t lie to him would he…wouldn’t…leave…. Ed viciously ground his teeth, his fingers curling into fists his nails gouging into his palms.

The pain brought him back to himself, putting an end to his thoughts. He bent over and shut off the shower, the sudden cold making his skin crawl.

Gin hadn’t been in bed this morning, and there had been no note this time.

The marble floor was warm beneath his feet the many crystal bottles of cologne on the counter top glistened with steam, simmering in the dim light. Bracing his hands against edge of the sink Ed gazed at his distorted reflection and for briefest moment, it looked as if his father was staring back at him.

The world spun away to darkness, and he felt his breath catch. He tightened his grip on the sink clenching his teeth so hard his jaw began to ache. Against his will a sob broke free from between his lips, it was dry and heaving. It was the gasp of a wounded soul; of a grief that had long ago come undone and was splintered and crippled.

A tremor shook through his body making his muscles tense; his breathing became jagged slitting his throat, shredding his restraint. How he hated his reflection, he loathed the man glaring back at him.

Weak…worthless…wretch…useless…disappoint ing….

His grandfather’s voice reeled against his skull, feeding his anger to a flaring rage. A howl loosened its self from his throat and he tore his hands from the marble counter twisting away from the mirror. He swaggered from the bathroom, naked and panting. His wrathful temper was quickly fading, just as it always did, leaving him weak and trembling.

Cursing he flung him self onto the bed, pressing his face against the soothing sheets. He could feel his father’s eyes staring at him from his frame across the room it made him shiver. Lifting his head, he regarded the photograph the way a son looking for guidance would peer up at his strong father.

But there no comforting of advice, no firm hand on his shoulder to keep him steady. Just…Silence…the certain quiet that only the dead can leave behind. Ed pressed his fingers into his eyes…what the fuck was wrong with him?

“Why you alway’s gotta be so damn quiet huh? Always starin at me like you know wha’s happ’n…Lik’ y’know...”

The whispered sentence faded, and he received no answer. Which wasn’t fucking surprising …."
“Your work is getting sloppy Gin...,”

Wuncler was sitting across from him, his reflection gleaming in the polished surface of an antique oak writing desk. A crystal cut ashtray was balanced on the very ledge of the table an un-smoked cigar resting on its glimmering rim. Elegant pens cast in silver and gold rested beside glass bottles of ink. A thin bladed letter opener baring Wuncler’s insignia rested on a silver tray, its surface dancing in the gloom, Gin felt the brand on shoulder flare.

A fire leaped and flickered in the fireplace casting the portraits that hung from the walls in ominous shadow, and dyed the auburn liquors that lined mantle a deeper garnet tainted shade.

Gin shifted in his chair nervous, he had been stripped of his weapons before he had even been allowed to set foot in Wuncler’s office. His eyes flicking to the men flanking him, standing so close to his chair that he could smell their cologne, and see the intricate stitching of their suits. He turned his seething gaze back to Wuncler,

“Like I fuckin give a good God Damn what you fuckin think bout it,”

There the sound of metal slamming against flesh mingling with a grunt of pain severed by clenched teeth. Wuncler continued speaking as if nothing happened, his voice taking on the tone of a father reprimanding a naughty child.

“There are many things that you don’t want to do…and one of them is to disappoint me…I get enough of that from my grandson.”

Gin felt his lips curl back in a snarl, wincing when the subtle motion caused pain to trickle across the side of his face.

“I expect elitist work from a man that has your skills… and anything less would mean that you’re cheating me Gin and that is something that will end with blood payment.”

Gin snorted, his eyes once again becoming defiant forgetting that his previous harsh words had earned him being pistol whipped across the cheek.

“Look mutha fucker it couldnta been helped, tha’ cock sucker you sent me out ta kill was practically surrounded by tha secret service, you lucky I was able ta shoot im in the back a the head wit out the God Damn fed’s breathin down mah neck and breakin down yo mutha fuckin door….”

This time the blow caught him across the jaw, breaking him off in mid-rant, violently snapping his head to one side. There was moment of intense silence fractured by the soft snap of a lighter being flicked open. Gin sat there a moment the taste of his own blood filling his mouth, dribbling from the corner of his lip.

“Don’t give me that bull-shit Forty-six, something like that should have been mere child’s play to a killer like you….Or perhaps you need more motivation then a delayed contract on Ed?”

Gin turned to face his new “employer” spitting blood across the burnished top of the oaken desk, almost speckling crimson on Wuncler’s silk tie. When he spoke, his voice was brimming with barely controlled rage,

“You wan’ted a hit…I gave you a hit. Yo instructions were to fuckin’ demandin’ I did the damn job wit out gettin seen, you don like the way I do it n’fuck you…”

He felt guard on his left side shift back, and saw the brief glint from silver from his gun in the light of the fire. He tensed gripping the clawed armrests of his chair so tightly the carved wood dug into the flesh of his fingers.

For a brief moment, time stilled, as frozen as the paintings on the shadowed walls. And all that Gin could hear was the furious beat of his heart as it smashed against his ribs; it felt like it was trying to claw up his throat. Then it was shattered and he was twisting in his seat flinging the heavy piece of furniture to one side.

There was a snarled curse and the sound of polished wood crashing against flesh and the marble floor. He felt the edge of a gun brush against his shoulder and caught the other mans wrist in a savage grip. Gin threw his weight forward jerking the guard around so that he collided with the sharp edge of Wuncler’s expensive desk.

He cruelly shoved his weight against the man’s back smirking when he heard him gasp as air was brutally forced from his lungs. He slammed guard’s hand against the surface of the table scattering pens and disheveling papers. There was the anguished sound of crystal as it broke against the floor, and obsidian ink spattered across clean marble.

Wuncler didn’t even move retaining his aura of calm holding up his hand to stop his other guard when he finally managed to stagger to his feet, and was reaching for his gun.

A voice that sounded like hell unleashed hissed against the chaos causing all movement to halt.

“So you like beatin nigga’s across the fuckin face huh mutha fucker?”

Stainless steel rang against silver and the thin blade of the letter opener shimmered in essence of the firelight transforming its innocence into something wicked. Gin kept his victims hand firmly pinned against the table. He leaned across his shoulder trapping the man beneath him in a grotesque parody of a sensual embrace.

Gin lightly trailed tailed the dull tip of the knife along the delicate bones of the hand beneath his own, he felt the guard wince,

“Why you finchin like I done something ta you yet?”

His hot breath swirled down the other mans neck his lips almost grazing his ear,

“Ih aint even touched you…,”

He continued his gentle caresses sliding the blade along the man’s twitched fingers then back up to the center of the hand, then savagely pressed down. Screams of agony were nothing foreign to Gin; torture was one of his greatest fortes.

The raw crunch and snap of bones and tendons as they were pushed aside by the delicate blade mingled with the other mans sobs. Another wail, blood filled, lashed against the room as Gin began twisting the blade back and forth sawing though the flesh of his victims palm.

The guard began to buck and pitch against him, which only made Gin slow his efforts; leisurely twirling letter opener in a circle, gouging a hole in the back of the man's hand. Bone bowed backwards and flesh split, it was the most heartless thing that Wuncler had ever seen.

Magnificent in its cruelty… he was almost sorry when Gin ceased, relenting when the tip scraped against the polished surface of his desk.

His guard slumped forward barely conscious and moaning in pain. Gin stepped away from his quivering form, finally unpinning his body from the edge of the table. Gore dripped to the floor mingling with spilled ink,

“How does it feel mutha fucker…aint s’easy when someone else is doin it ta you?”

Gin looked at his fingers they were slick with warm blood,

“An look at this…you made me get my han’s all dirty,”

He absently wiped his hands on guard’s jacket snapping his eyes to Wuncler when he heard him speak. The older man was making his way around his ruined desk towards him, a vile smile on his face,

“Marvelous Gin…this more then makes up for your poor performance…such cruelty.”

He reached forward mercilessly tearing the letter opener from his escort’s hand, fresh blood ached against the floor, spattering against Gin’s cloths and across his neck. The barely contained glee in older mans voice voice made Gin’s stomach churn,

“Just imagine, I was beginning to think that my investment in you had been a complete waste of time,”

He was so close now that Gin could smell the dull scent of cigar smoke on his breath.

“I think you have earned some time to your self…”

His gray eyes snapped to the remaining guard,

“Show number Forty-Six to the door would you,”

The nervous man hastily obeyed almost slipping from the mess on the floor, keeping his head bowed and his eyes adverted from Gin’s face. His hands were trembling as he grasped him by the fabric of his suit refusing to touch him. They were almost to the door when Wuncler's voice halted him. His tone had shifted the friendly cadence replaced with a concealed threat,

“Oh and Gin…if you ever do this again…I will put a bullet though your skull,”

Gin snorted resisting the urge lunge for the older man throat and shrugged the guard’s hands off. He tilted his head at an arrogant angle, a posture he had learned from Ed,

“Whateva nigga,”

Authors Note and Ending Note:

See I told you that it wasn’t what it seemed….Whew that torture scene was a bitch to write. Just one more chapter to go and then I will begin Unknown, Knowns. Review please…please, it’s what sustains an author, to know that their work is appreciated and liked. This is for MysticalFairy012
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Unknown, Unknowns