jaded_despair

Love Me One Last Time - a Rules fic

2008-12-31T15:44:36Z

Title: Love Me One Last Time
Pairing: Hikaru/Hitomi
Summary: A wedding draws out uncertainties about the past and the future for Hikaru and Hitomi.

-oOo-

Hikaru reached out for the taps, turning them so the water cut off abruptly, the sudden silence almost deafening. Hitomi remained leaning against the tiled wall, head resting back against it, eyes closed, a few water droplets slowly trickling over his features. He pressed a gentle kiss to Hitomi’s brow, lips brushing lightly against the wet hair plastered to it before he reluctantly stepped back, dropping his arms to his sides, no longer caging Hitomi.

Swiftly turning he grabbed a towel from the bench, reaching out to drape it over Hitomi’s head. Hitomi’s eyes finally opened as he looked at Hikaru almost in surprise.

Hikaru smiled at him. “Don’t catch a chill,” he said, turning to snag a towel for himself. He rubbed himself down briskly trying hard to not look at Hitomi. In the mirror he could glimpse Hitmoi reach up to rub the towel over his wet hair slowly, the ends falling forward to hide his face from view once more.

Now he’ll be sorry about it, Hikaru thought ruefully, tying the towel tightly around his waist, ignoring his own dripping hair. He could dry that later, just at the moment it was more important for him to get out and way from Hitomi. He didn’t think he could bear to see Hitmoi cry - not after that.

He turned away, intent on making his escape. His hand touched the door handle when he froze as two arms wrapped around him from behind, one curling over his left shoulder and stretching down his chest, the second circling his waist, hand resting flat on his stomach. He could feel Hitomi’s naked body pressed against his back, his skin cool yet warming quickly as it swiftly absorbed Hikaru’s body heat.

Hikaru sucked in his breath sharply, his stomach drawing in as Hitomi’s hand remained in contact with his flesh the entire time. His heartbeat increased, pounding in his chest. Calm, he tried to tell himself, keep calm.

“Hitomi?” he queried softly. What did Hitomi think he was doing?

“Taira,” Hitomi said, his voice muffled where his face was pressed against Hikaru’s back.

Hikaru couldn’t stop the shiver as he felt the puff of Hitomi’s breath over his skin. “Yeah?”

“I want to go to bed,” Hitomi finally said after a long pause.

Hikaru forced out a low chuckle. “Of course you do, you idiot,” he said. “It’s been a long day and you must be beat.” He reached up and lightly patted the hand that rested on his chest. “Hurry up and dry off and get too sleep.” Hikaru gently lifted both hands from his body and slipped from the grasp. “Don’t forget to dry your hair properly or you’ll catch a cold. You know what you’re like.”

Hikaru pushed the bathroom door open and stepped through but had only taken another few steps when his arm was grabbed and he was pulled around to face Hitomi.

Hitomi stood completely naked still, no sign of the towel Hikaru had given him. Water clung to him, making his entire body shimmer in the dim light in the bedroom. His efforts with the towel had obviously only gone as far as removing the worst of the moisture from his hair which no longer dripped, small bits spiking out in all directions in an endearing manner which made Hikaru’s heart flutter.

“Taira,” Hitomi repeated, staring at Hikaru, not releasing his arm.

Hikaru could feel himself responding beneath the towel that was still safely wrapped around his waist. He was thankful for that. The last thing he wanted at the moment was for Hitomi to see how turned on he was but it wasn’t like he could help it. Hitomi looked beautiful just at this moment. There was no other way to describe him.

Hikaru saw Hitomi take a deep breath, watched as his chest rose as he filled his lungs and then drop as he released the captured air. Another shiver ran down his spine and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Every part of him; his body, his mind, his emotions were being tested to the fullest. His eyes opened and settled upon Hitomi again feeling as though he couldn’t bear to miss a single thing.

“Taira,” Hitomi said again, fingers tightening on Hikaru’s arm. “I….” He faltered for a moment and then Hikaru saw the look of resolution on his face. “I want to go to bed with you.”

The last words came out in a rush and caught Hikaru by surprise. They effectively froze him in place as Hitomi continued.

“I’m sorry for just…blurting that out,” Hitomi said, turning his face away although his grip on Hikaru’s arm didn’t loosen. Hikaru could see the flush on Hitomi’s face and knew it was from embarrassment. Hitomi would always easily get embarrassed by things like this.

“I…don’t want to pressure you,” Hitomi continued, looking back at Hikaru. “And I know you have someone special now and I feel bad about doing this. I really do. But…” Hikaru saw Hitomi swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, eyes wide as he gazed at him still. “I…had to at least ask.”

Hikaru now felt the tremour in the hand that gripped his arm. This wasn’t easy for Hitomi. He had never been one to take the initiative even before when they could almost say they weren’t doing anything wrong. Now…well, there probably wasn’t anything right about what they were doing. They both had partners, albeit of different genders, what they had shared was far in the past now and a great many things had happened since then. They really shouldn’t be doing this; and Hitomi knew that. Yet still he stood there before Hikaru, refusing to let him go.

Hikaru felt his chest tighten again painfully. No matter what had happened in the past, no matter what happened after they had broken up, no matter what happened in the future he would always love Hitomi. He acknowledged that he would be able to love and care for others but Hitomi would always hold a special place in his heart. He would never be able to just forget him.

Finally acknowledging that fact and accepting the feelings that still stirred within him when with this man seemed to lift a heavy burden from his mind. He laughed internally. He was a real idiot sometimes. All these years he’d been doing his best to try and forget what he felt for Hitomi, trying to ignore the lingering touches that still resided in his heart. In trying to do that it had caused him a lot of pain and hardship when all the time, all he’d had to do was accept that he would always love Hitomi no matter what. This didn’t stop him from moving on but he would never be able to truly move on until he accepted that was just the way it was. He reached up and ran a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face. He really was an idiot, but none of this was really the issue just at the moment.

He focused his attention back on Hitomi who was looking at him with that intense gaze still. He took a deep breath to steady himself and respond to Hitomi’s question.

“I’m flattered you’ve asked,” Hikaru said, smiling gently. He laid one hand over the top of Hitomi’s. “But don’t you think we should just leave it here?” He squeezed Hitomi’s hand lightly. “Neither of us want to have anything in the morning to regret, do we?”

The two of them stood there for another heartbeat just looking at each other, then Hikaru felt Hitomi’s hand loosen and slip from beneath his, falling away back to Hitomi’s side.

“Of course,” Hitomi said in a small voice, turning around completely so Hikaru was presented with his back. “Just forget about it. I’m sorry I put you in such a position.”

Hikaru saw Hitomi’s arms come up to wrap around his chest, shoulders hunching, head dropping. “I’m just being my usual selfish self,” Hitomi continued. “I’m just thinking of myself and what I want and not anyone else’s feelings, especially yours, Taira. I’ve always treated you so badly like that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

Hikaru heard the break in Hitomi’s voice at those last words and he couldn’t prevent his feet from carrying him across the intervening distance, nor could he stop his arms from wrapping around Hitomi from behind, pulling him in tightly within his embrace. Standing close like this he could feel the shaking in Hitomi’s body, felt the splash of hot tears falling on his crossed arms over Hitomi’s chest.

Hikaru rested his chin on Hitomi’s shoulder and sighed. “Shhh,” he soothed, squeezing a little tighter.

“I’m sorry,” Hitomi whispered. “I keep doing everything wrong and hurting you.”

Hikaru felt Hitomi’s hands wrap around his forearm as he continued. “I’ve never wanted to hurt you. You were always there for me in everything, no matter what. You were my rock; steady, always present. I always felt safe and secure with you.”

“Even when I used to jump you at the start?” Hikaru said softly with a thread of humour in his voice.

“Even then,” Hitomi replied in a quiet voice. “I mean, sure it made me confused and all but I never felt threatened. You never made me feel bad really.”

“I’m glad,” Hikaru murmured.

Hitomi’s hands tightened their grip. “But I’ve always made you feel bad. I made you feel bad for trying anything right from the start, and I took my confusion and fears out on you. I kept running away from you and then to escape my confusion about Ryuu instead I ran to you. I was never sincere and honest with you about my feelings and what I was thinking. I just kept using you as an escape and an excuse to try and forget what I didn’t want to think about, and to find a way to try and feel better. I’m the worst person there is!”

Hitomi’s shoulders hunched more and Hikaru squeezed harder. “Hey,” he said softly, “you weren’t that bad, you know. It’s not like I was exactly a saint through all this. I mean I was the one going all out to push you over to the other side and be with a guy when you didn’t want to. And like I said, I knew about how you felt for Ryuu and I still went out of my way to take you away from him.”

“But I wasn’t even with him,” Hitomi replied automatically.

Hikaru chuckled, a little bitterly. “Maybe not in body, but in mind and heart you were. I knew that. That’s why I had that fight with him way back. I was just so angry that time because I knew that you liked him and I wanted to hurt him or…I don’t know. Maybe I wanted him to finally decide if he was going to go for you or not so I knew if I really had a chance.” Hikaru chuckled again, this time more naturally. “Hey, we were all idiot brats back then. It’s not like you had a monopoly on stupidity at that time.”

“That might have been an excuse back then but look what I’m doing now,” Hitomi whispered. “I’m still ignoring your feelings and what you want and trying to force what I want on you. I’m still doing exactly the same thing and hurting you as I always have.”

Hitomi suddenly shrugged Hikaru off so hard he staggered back as Hitomi crossed the room and stood by the large window. “I hate myself like this!” he cried as he slammed clenched fists against the glass pane.

“Hey!” Hikaru shouted as he ran across to grab one of Hitomi’s raised hands again just as he was about to bring it slamming against the glass once more. “Stop that, you idiot!”

Hitomi refused to look at him, remaining where he was. Hikaru couldn’t help but have a quick thought about what a sight it would be for someone looking from the other side of the window; Hitomi standing completely naked, a full frontal view as he stood there with arms raised above his head, legs parted. Yeah, what a sight that would be. He felt the stirring in his loins again and quickly banished that vision.

Hikaru knew he had to try and snap Hitomi out of his spiral of self-hate. He had always been very sensitive and yes, in some ways Hitomi was selfish but no more than any of them. They had all acted back then for their own needs and wants. Even now Hikaru had given in to his own desires in the shower. He was no different. Hitomi shouldn’t be so hard on himself for just being human.

Hikaru pulled Hitomi around, pushing him back against the window, still keeping a grip on one arm. Hitomi refused to look at him and Hikaru just shook his head, reaching out with his other hand and gripping Hitomi’s chin.

“Stop it,” he chided, lifting Hitomi’s face so he was forced to look at him. At least there was a touch of anger in that gaze, even if the anger was directed against himself. “You haven’t done anything wrong and you need to stop thinking like that. Okay, you’ve made mistakes – haven’t we all? Do you think I haven’t? Do you think Ryuu hasn’t? You’re no different to anyone else, Hitomi. You’re gonna make mistakes, you’re gonna hurt people without meaning to but what you need to remember is that you also have made people very happy just by being you. There’s nothing wrong with you – either back then or now.”

Hikaru carefully released Hitomi’s hand letting it drop to his side although he still kept a grip on Hitomi’s chin. “So quit with the self-destructiveness will you? It really doesn’t suit you. However if it were Ryuu he could pull it off with that brooding, melancholy look he used to have.”

Hikaru saw the small twitch of Hitomi’s lips and knew it had almost been a smile and he felt a sense of relief. If Hitomi could still laugh everything was okay.

“Are you done?” he asked, staring at Hitomi.

Hitomi held his gaze and then dropped it as he let out a deep sigh. “I’m really acting like an idiot tonight, aren’t I?”

“Well, let’s just say that I haven’t seen this side of you before – at least not to this extent,” Hikaru said.

“So you’re saying that I have acted like an idiot before?”

Hikaru laughed as he released his friend. “Of course you have,” he replied. “Though most people would probably say that I’ve been more of an idiot than you – at least my sister would agree with that!”

“You’re trying to make me forget what I said, aren’t you?” Hitomi said quietly.

“Huh? Forget what?”

Hitomi looked up at him with a serious face. “That I want to sleep with you.”

“Oh.”

In fact Hikaru had thought that Hitomi would have forgotten that bit, or at least been too embarrassed now to bring it up again. That’s how Hitomi of old would have been when he realized he’d just blurted out something that he hadn’t really wanted to say. Now, looking into that steady gaze, Hikaru felt a sinking feeling beginning. He knew that look. Even the Hitomi of old would have it at times; when it was something that he was determined to do.

“You don’t have to,” Hitomi said evenly. “I’m not trying to force you into this. I just had to say it. I…wanted to be honest for once.”

“Wasn’t….the shower enough?” Hikaru asked, feeling his face heat a little both with embarrassment and remembered desire.

“I want more,” was Hitomi’s simple answer. Now he did turn his head away. “I…just want to feel someone hold me. It’s not the same as being with a woman where I’m doing the holding. It’s a different feeling from what I remember when I was with you. It’s a feeling of being completely encompassed by the essence of someone else, of feeling everything about them in that moment. Of feeling safe and secure and loved and on fire and wanting to give everything back to that person. I…guess it might be what a woman feels when she’s making love too - I don’t know. I just remember that that is what I felt when with you and I…wanted to feel it again. Somehow it always made me feel better. I don’t mean just in feeling satisfied sexually, it made me feel…complete again. Like it cleared all my worries away, even just for a moment but that feeling of peace was something wonderful.”

As Hitomi spoke Hikaru couldn’t stop the hardening of his erection. He too could remember. He could remember those nights they had shared together, of holding Hitomi’s tightly, feeling their sweat slick skin sliding against each other. He could remember the feel of Hitomi’s hand as it ran over his body, lighting internal fires with every touch. He could remember the sound of Hitomi’s heavy breathing, the quick pants as he drew closer to climax, the way he would cry out as he came, back arching, head thrown back. Yeah, he could remember every little thing from those times.

Hikaru took a firmer grip on his emotions, trying to control his breathing which had automatically sped up with his thoughts. He couldn’t let himself get carried away.

“Forget it,” Hitomi suddenly said, turning away again to face out the window, leaning forward so his head was resting against the glass. “Forget what I’ve said. I had no right to ask you.”

Hikaru looked at Hitomi’s back, seeing the tension in the shoulders. He had a sudden thought and took a small step to the side and sure enough, in the reflection of the window he could see the tears running down Hitomi’s face. He closed his eyes as a small stab of pain ran through him. He could never bear to see Hitomi cry; that was his greatest weakness. He opened his eyes to see Hitomi still in the same position. If he stepped forward to comfort him…..

Hikaru stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Hitomi’s waist, holding him tightly. He felt Hitomi’s hands drop to grasp his arms, holding him in place.

“I’m afraid,” Hikaru whispered against Hitomi’s neck.

“Of what?” was Hitomi’s soft reply.

“That you will regret this in the morning. And I’ll never see you again,” Hikaru answered honestly.

Hitomi didn’t answer immediately and Hikaru was just getting ready to step away once more, believing that Hitomi had truly changed his mind now when he felt the other turn in his arms. He lifted his head from the shoulder as Hitomi looked over his shoulder at him.

“I promise I won’t,” Hitomi said, his expression dead serious. “I can give you my word on that. I swear I won’t do that.”

Hikaru lifted one hand and cupped the side of Hitomi’s face, fingers sliding over the ear and into the soft freshly dried hair.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered as he leant forward and their lips touched in a long, deep kiss.

“Mmm,” was Hitomi’s only response. Hikaru held the kiss, sliding his tongue past Hitomi’s parted lips, running it over Hitomi’s teeth before twining around his tongue. He lipped at Hitomi’s upper lip, then bottom, teasingly trailing the tip of his tongue over each in a manner that he knew Hitomi found ticklish before recapturing his mouth fully in a full kiss.

His hands now began to move over Hitomi’s body, slowly sliding from his face, down his neck to his chest, the other sliding over his stomach. He leant forward and Hitomi was pressed back against the glass of the window.

“Cold,” Hitomi murmured, and Hikaru felt the brief shiver that ran through his body.

“You’ll warm up soon,” he promised, holding Hitomi in place. Hitomi tried to turn around to face him but Hikaru leant further, instead forcing him to turn to face the window full on. Both of Hitomi’s hands came up to rest on the glass, his head turned to one side so he could still kiss Hikaru.

Hikaru broke the kiss to nuzzle into Hitomi’s neck, teeth lightly nipping at the flesh making Hitomi moan, then slowly running his tongue over the skin. He could see Hitomi’s reflection in the glass before them and he couldn’t resist pulling Hitomi back a step so he could gaze upon the full image of Hitomi’s nakedness. He felt himself immediately spring to full hardness, his cock throbbing. He watched as he moved one hand lower, sliding over Hitomi’s chest to reach his nipple. He began to play with it, rubbing it lightly with his index finger, before taking it between thumb and finger and rolling it, bringing it to full hardness. He repeated the same to the other nipple even as Hitomi moaned again and shuddered. He gazed upon the reflection before him as Hitomi’s cock began to lift as it hardened. That sight was the most erotic thing he could recall ever having seen and he felt his body flush hotly.

Hikaru lifted Hitomi’s hair from the back of his neck, nipping lightly at the exposed skin, feeling Hitomi shake in his embrace. He slowly began to kiss down his spine, each vertebrae lovingly caressed with his lips, even dip laved well, as he continued on his journey. As he knelt his hands ran down Hitomi’s sides, fingers bumping over ribs showing through taut skin, sliding over the jutting hip bones to cup the rounded buttocks. He slid his tongue down the crack, hands separating the flesh to allow him better access. The tip of his tongue found the entrance and he flicked at it, feeling Hitomi jump and cry out.

“Argh!!” Hitomi’s body shook under Hikaru’s hands, he could feel the tremours running down to his legs. Hikaru plunged his tongue into Hitomi’s depths, sliding it in deeply, hearing the catch in Hitomi’s breathing as he began to slide it in and out quickly.

“Taira!” Hitomi called out and Hikaru felt his own cock twitch hard and a splash of moisture against his leg as precum dripped. It always nearly made him come when he heart Hitomi call out his name like that.

He slid his tongue out one last time and continued onwards, bowing down to place kisses upon Hitomi’s ankle and foot. Hitomi had great feet, or so Hikaru thought. They weren’t delicate like a girl’s but were elegant and neat, not ungainly and large like most guys. Hikaru had always like Hitomi’s feet. He began to kiss up Hitomi’s leg, his hand running up the inside of the other, his lips running over the rounded calf, tongue sliding into the dips behind the knee, then moistly trailing up the thigh back to the buttocks. He repeated the pattern with the other leg, listening to the soft moans Hitomi made. His erection was throbbing hard, painfully so and he could hear himself panting with restraint. As he stretched up towards Hitomi’s shoulders Hikaru stood, never letting his lips leave Hitomi’s body, circling back around his neck, suckling for a moment on the earlobe as Hitomi moaned.

Returning to his original starting position Hikaru gazed upon the reflection of Hitomi in the glass; legs parted, arms still outstretched and palms flat against the glass, full erection standing upright. He slid one hand lower again, over Hitomi’s flat stomach, threading fingers through the dark pubic hair to encircle the base of the swollen cock. Hitomi cried out and arched back against him at this contact but Hikaru held him in place. He began to stroke Hitomi, fingers sliding up the length, reaching the tip, pushing the foreskin down to reveal the liquid drops gathering in the slit. He wiped his fingers across that moisture, collecting it and sliding it downwards again. He kept repeating this, each time squeezing just a little harder, moving a little faster.

Hitomi’s breathing was coming fast now, as were the soft moans falling from his lips. His hips began to thrust in time to Hikaru’s motions, pushing his cock into that firm grip, then his buttocks pushing back to rub against Hikaru’s hard erection hidden beneath the towel.

Perhaps he’ll just get Hitomi off with a hand job again, Hikaru thought. That would be sure to tire him out fully this time. It didn’t have to go any further. That would probably be for the best.

He increased his motion and began to feel the changes in Hitomi’s body and hear it in his breathing. It wouldn’t be too much longer he was sure.

“No,” Hitomi suddenly said and he dropped his arms to grip Hikaru’s hands, ceasing their motion. He turned his head to look at Hikaru over his shoulder, sweat beading brow and upper lip. “I don’t want it just like this. You too.”

“It’s okay,” Hikaru said, dropping a light kiss on Hitomi’s lips. He tried to move his hands but Hitomi refused to release him.

“No,” Hitomi said stubbornly and turned around forcing Hikaru to release him unless he intended to inflict hurt.

Hitomi reached out then cupped Hikaru’s hidden erection with one hand, kneading it gently through the towel. Hikaru grunted in response, unable to stop the moan of pleasure that followed. He felt the towel loosen and fall to the floor finally revealing him fully to Hitomi’s view. The feel of Hitomi’s hand on his cock was pure bliss and his hips automatically thrust forward into that grip.

“You’ve been holding out for a long time,” Hitomi said, head tilted slightly to one side. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“It’s…fine,” Hikaru tried to say again.

“Sure,” Hitomi replied, obviously not believing him.

Suddenly Hitomi dropped to his knees, startling Hikaru. “Hey!” he began, “what…ugh!” All objections ceased as Hitomi’s warm lips wrapped around the tip of his cock and he was swallowed into that moist cavern.

“Ahhh!” he cried out, hips pushing forward as one hand dropped down to tangle fingers in Hitomi’s hair. “Hitomi!”

He didn’t want to harm Hitomi but he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting a few times, fucking Hitomi’s mouth. Hitomi gave no indication of discomfort, accepting his thrusts, letting his cock slide deeply into his mouth. He could feel Hitomi’s tongue curl around his girth, pressing hard as it ran up the underside of his cock to flick against that sensitive spot near the head. He moaned again, both hands now resting on Hitomi’s head.

Hikaru felt himself begin to draw closer to the end. It had been a while since he’d been with someone this experienced. Yuki was still only just learning about how to pleasure a man so it had been a long time since Hikaru had felt this kind of intensity.

Just as suddenly Hitomi stopped and Hikaru let out a moan of disappointment.

“What...?” He looked down at where Hitomi still knelt looking up at him, watching as he licked his lips.

“Let’s move to the bed,” Hitomi said, getting to his feet. He reached out and took Hikaru’s hand leading him.

He really means to, Hikaru thought. He really means to go through with this – all the way.

Hitomi released Hikaru’s hand as he knelt on the bed and Hikaru’s cock throbbed again as he was presented with a view of Hitomi’s naked arse.

“Have you got any lube?” Hitomi asked, turning to sit on the covers.

“Uhm,” Hikaru wondered if he should just say ‘no’ and then that would be the end of it. Or would Hitomi be just as upset to know he did have some?

“That means you do,” Hitomi said with a trace of laughter in his voice. “You’re always prepared, Taira. I was pretty certain you would.”

“Uh, yeah,” Hikaru admitted. He made his way over to his bag and rummaged in his toiletries case, fingers closing around the small tube he always kept there. He felt a rustle against his fingers and asked, “What about condoms?”

“I’ve got some of those,” was Hitomi’s surprising answer.

Hikaru looked over to see his friend leaning over the bed to reach his own bag and soon produce a box. He couldn’t help the way his eyebrows rose.

“What?” Hitomi said, looking a little abashed. “It’s normal for guys to carry condoms.”

“Sure,” Hikaru agreed as he walked back to the bed, placing the tube on the bedstand. “But isn’t a box a little…excessive?” He sat on the bed and swung his legs up to lay down.

Hitomi swatted him with the pillow before tossing the box onto his chest. “It was just easier to throw the box in than be bothering with pulling a few out whenever I pack. I thought this way I would be sure not forget them.”

“Didn’t want to have to go without, eh?” Hikaru smirked, putting the box beside the tube. “You could always go bareback.”

“That’s not really a smart thing to do with a girl,” Hitomi answered.

Hikaru paused and then tried to keep his voice even as he spoke. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Don’t forget it’s not the wisest thing to do with a guy either.”

“I know,” Hitomi said. “But we were always careful. I’ve not been with any other guys.”

Hikaru was silent for a moment. “You know I have, don’t you?” he finally said not looking at Hitomi.

“Well, yeah. I met your boyfriend remember?”

“No,” Hikaru rolled over to face Hitomi. “I mean others before him.”

“Oh.”

Hikaru could see the way Hitomi’s brow puckered as he processed this information. He’d had a feeling that Hitomi had forgotten that just as he had been with other partners so Hikaru would have also, and most likely they would include other men. He wasn’t sure how Hitomi was going to react to this revelation.

“Yeah, I see,” Hitomi finally said. He gnawed at a thumbnail in an old habit that Hikaru knew well. “I hadn’t really thought of that you know.”

Hikaru reached out and gently extracted the abused digit from Hitomi’s lips. “I didn’t think you had. Does it bother you that much?”

Hitomi turned to look down at him thoughtfully, obviously seriously thinking about it. “It…does a little,” he finally replied. “But it’s not like I’ve been celibate either. I guess it all seemed just a little bit…distant before. I mean, this kid is the first boyfriend I’ve met. I only remember you ever mentioning one other person, someone who went overseas, and that was ages ago and even then you never said if you were actually going out with him.”

Hikaru felt his hand squeezed as Hitomi continued. “So I guess what I’m trying to say that yeah, I hadn’t exactly thought about it till now, but it doesn’t make any difference to me.”

“I’m glad,” Hikaru said, raising their joined hands to place a kiss on the back of Hitomi’s. He sat up again and reached out to cup the back of Hitomi’s neck drawing him forward so they could kiss.

Hitomi’s arms came up and wrapped around Hikaru’s back, pressing him closer. The kiss continued, even as Hikaru turned and pressed Hitomi backwards to lay on the bed. He draped his long body over Hitomi’s, feeling the touch of bare flesh against his own and his desires immediately fanned into a fierce fire once more. Hitomi moaned into his mouth, squirming beneath him, exciting him further.

Hikaru knew that neither of them were likely to last too long. There was too much pent up emotion and restrained desire for this to be a leisurely romp. Yet still he didn’t want this to be just a hurried tumble. This would be their last time together of that he was absolutely certain as he had never been before. He wanted to be able to remember this night for the rest of his life as a beautiful moment they had shared, one that they both had wanted and had both enjoyed to its fullest.

His hands roamed over Hitomi’s, just as his were doing the same. Every touch made him shiver with need. Their hard cocks, trapped between their bodies, slid slickly against each other, heightening their pleasure. Hitomi gripped one of his hands and moved it around to touch his arse, obviously giving him permission to continue to the next stage.

Hikaru reached out and fumbled for a moment as he searched for what he was seeking. Finally his fingers wrapped around the tube and he deftly undid the lid. He squeezed, not even looking at how much was coming out and then dropped the tube to the bed. He rubbed his fingers together, liberally coating them and then moved them back to Hitomi’s body. He raised Hitomi’s leg, bending at the knee so his foot was flat on the bed, opening him up, then ran his fingers upwards, seeking that small entrance. He felt the dip in the flesh and knew he had found it, even without the brief jerk that Hitomi gave.

Hikaru didn’t try and plunge his finger directly in. Instead he gently rubbed that area, circling it, massaging the taut flesh and feeling it begin to soften. The lube made the area slick to the touch. Slowly he pushed forward with one finger, just to the first knuckle. He felt Hitomi tense up and then immediately relax.

“More,” he heard Hitomi whisper in his ear.

That was all the encouragement he needed. It wasn’t like Hitomi needed lots of preparation, not after their earlier interlude in the shower but still Hikaru wanted to make certain there was no chance of hurting him. He pushed the finger in further, sliding it in and out a few times, pressing against the side of the entrance. He then added a second finger, feeling the flesh having to stretch to accommodate the intrusion. He pumped his hand within Hitomi at the same time as he lipped at one nipple, feeling the moans Hitomi gave reverberate in the chest his lips were pressed against. Hitomi began to move beneath him, writhing in time with his motions, hips lifting from the bed, silently begging for more.

Hikaru felt himself begin to shake, his testicles tightening. He pulled back from Hitomi, withdrawing his hand and sat back, breathing hard.

“What…” Hitomi’s eyes fluttered open as he gazed up at Hikaru. “What…” He tried to sit up, concern in his eyes, when Hikaru reassured him by smiling shakily and resting a hand on his stomach.

“’S okay,” he mumbled, reaching over to grab the box of condoms. He reached in and pulled the string out, ripping two off. The rest fell to the top of the bed to lie forgotten beside the lube.

Hikaru ripped one open with his teeth, pulling it out and reaching towards Hitomi. He paused, meeting Hitomi’s eyes, silently asking the question. Hitomi gave a short nod with a crooked smile which Hikaru mirrored. He gripped Hitomi’s erection firmly yet gently and began to roll the condom on. Hitomi shuddered and dropped back on the bed and for a moment Hikaru thought he had come but then realized that he hadn’t, although it must have been a near thing from all the signs. He made certain the condom was on fully and then took out the second. As he positioned it over the tip of his own dripping erection he felt the bed rock and a hand cover his.

“Let me,” Hitomi said, sitting up. Hikaru removed his hands and held himself rigid, watching as Hitomi’s long fingers deftly rolled the condom downwards. He let out the breath he’d been holding only once Hitomi had finished and leant in to press a kiss against his lips.

“How do you want to do it?” Hikaru asked between kisses. He felt Hitomi pause and they exchanged a few more kisses before he replied.

“I want to be able to see you,” he finally said.

Hikaru thought for a moment as they kissed some more and then he pressed Hitomi back so he lay down once more. He lifted himself up, resting on his elbows on either side of Hitomi. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

Hitomi nodded. “I will.”

Hikaru reached out and grabbed a pillow. “Lift up your hips,” he instructed, leaning further back so he didn’t impede Hitomi doing so. As Hitomi held that position which happened to be extremely erotic with hips and jutting erection pushed upwards, he pushed the pillow underneath. When Hitomi lowered himself back down the extra support kept his hips and buttocks raised which Hikaru hoped would take some of the strain from Hitomi’s back and help him relax further.

“Are you ready?” he asked, shuffling forward between Hitomi’s parted knees. He positioned his cock at the exposed entrance, one hand gently separating the cheeks. This position automatically made Hitomi’s testicles fall away so Hikaru didn’t have to worry about that.

Hitomi met his gaze and nodded. “Yeah,” he replied with a warm smile. Hikaru smiled back feeling warm all over.

He pushed forward, feeling the resistance trying to force him back. He pushed a little harder and felt the resistance lessen as he began to slide inside. He heard Hitomi grunt and paused.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, reaching out to touch the side of Hitomi’s face.

Hitomi opened his eyes. “Yeah. Keep going.”

Hikaru pushed in further, all the time watching Hitomi’s face and he stopped again when he saw the wince of pain.

“Let’s leave it,” he said, starting to lean back to withdraw. He didn’t want to cause Hitomi pain and this was bound to do so.

“No!” Hitomi said forcefully, startling Hikaru. He felt Hitomi wrap his legs around his back, heels digging into the small of his back.

“You’re being pig-headed,” Hikaru tried to reason with him. “It’s gonna hurt you too much. It’s not like you’re used to it anymore!”

“I don’t care!” Hitomi stated and pulled with his legs, throwing Hikaru slightly off balance so he began to fall forward, pushing his cock deeper inside Hitomi.

“You…!” Hikaru began and then gasped as he felt the resistance fade completely and the head of his cock slid fully within.

“Ah!” Hitomi cried out, head thrown back, hands reaching out and clenching on Hikaru’s forearms.

“You fool,” Hikaru said softly, reaching out to gently stroke Hitomi’s brow, feeling the sweat there. He could hear the other’s ragged breathing as Hitomi tried to breath through the pain. “Just accept that you can’t do this.”

“I can,” Hitomi said between gritted teeth. “I want to.”

Hikaru just shook his head silently at his friend’s stubbornness. He felt Hitomi give a deep breath, slowing letting it out as his eyes finally opened. “Move,” he demanded.

Hikaru opened his mouth to argue further but then closed it, realizing the futility. When Hitomi was in this sort of mood there wasn’t anything he could say to dissuade him. So he slowly pushed a little deeper and then pulled back before pushing in again. He didn’t try and force his full length in as much as a part of him wanted to. He knew that would be far too much and it wasn’t as though neither of them would gain pleasure they way they were doing it now. It was just as stimulating.

“More,” Hitomi demanded again.

“Alright, alright,” Hikaru chuckled, begin to move his hips faster. The lube made his motion smooth and he leant over Hitomi further so he could kiss him. “Relax,” he murmured.

He felt Hitomi obey, could feel his feet drop back to the bed and the tension release from his legs, immediately relaxing his buttock muscles. He slid in more easily this time and Hitomi moaned in pleasure. “Yesss,” he hissed, breath whistling between his lips. He jerked and let out a cry, hips thrusting upwards. “There!”

Even without Hitomi’s direction Hikaru would have known that spot. He was more than familiar with Hitomi’s body and every nuance about it, especially when having sex. He concentrated on what he was doing, aiming for that one area that would send Hitomi hurtling over the precipice. He felt the sweat trickled down his spine, the tingling beginning in his own body as his cock continued to be stimulated as it slid within this tight passage that squeezed it sometimes rhythmically. Hitomi’s breathing was uneven, punctuated with gasps and moans, his hands clenching alternately on Hikaru’s arms or the sheets beneath him. His hips continued to thrust up against Hikaru’s motions, begging, demanding more which Hikaru obligingly gave.

Hikaru leant back, gripping and lifting Hitomi’s legs higher to allow him better access. He knew it was the right thing to do by the change of tone in Hitomi’s cries. He thrust faster, blinking sweat away from his eyes, panting as he continued to plunge within Hitomi’s heated depths.

“Hi..ka..ru!” Hitomi gasped out, having difficulty in getting the words out against Hikaru’s forceful thrusts. “Together!”

As Hikaru watched he saw Hitomi reached down to grip his own cock, beginning to pump it frantically, obviously not caring about the condom encasing it and that it may hurt him. Hikaru thrust faster, angling to continuously hit that spot, listening to Hitomi’s gasps of pleasure as he felt his testicles begin to draw up. He felt Hitomi suddenly tense up completely beneath him, every muscle contracting as he arched up high, mouth open as a long drawn out cry ripped from his throat. Hikaru felt Hitomi’s channel squeeze his cock almost painfully, spasms rippling along its length as he threw his head back, hips pushing in one last time and his whole body shuddered as he hit his climax and released. His body jerked again, and then a second time before he collapsed forward, catching himself on his elbows to take the majority of his weight before coming to rest on top of Hitomi.

Hikaru lay there, breathing heavily. He was so hot, his whole body feeling like it was on fire.

“Heavy,” he heard a muffled voice say.

“Sorry,” he muttered and awkwardly pulled up again. He reached down holding the condom in place with one hand as he pushed the flesh of Hitomi’s buttocks apart again and eased himself out. It was almost tighter trying to come out than it had been to go in but finally he was fully withdrawn, with Hitomi giving a small grunt of pain.

“Stay there,” Hikaru instructed, swinging around and standing. He walked on unsteady legs to the bathroom. He stripped off the condom, tying it neatly before wrapping it in some tissues and dropping it in the bin. He then pulled further tissues out before returning to the bed.

“Lie still,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He reached out and gently wiped Hitomi’s red and swollen entrance, noting the small spots of redness. “Sorry,” he said. “Looks like I was too rough.”

“You were fine,” Hitomi said in a rough voice. He cleared his throat as he rolled to one side and reached down to remove the pillow from under him. He sat up and carefully removed the condom, taking the proffered tissues from Hikaru to do the last of the clean up. Hikaru took the sodden mess from him, heading back to the bathroom to dispose of it. When he returned Hitomi was lying back once more.

“You should get under the covers,” Hikaru said with a smile. “You’ll catch cold.”

“I’m too hot,” Hitomi replied, eyes still closed.

“You baby,” Hikaru tugged at the bed covers, pulling one side back then reached out and grabbed Hitomi by shoulder and hip and pulled him into the freshly turned down space.

“Hey! You…” Hitomi’s last words were muffled as his face was buried in a pillow.

“There,” Hikaru said, chuckling as he flipped the covers back over Hitomi who had now managed to roll back onto his side.

“Where are you going?” Hitomi asked as Hikaru turned to the other bed in the room.

“To sleep, of course. I’m completely beat now.” He grinned at Hitomi. “I’m not as young as I used to be you know. It really takes it out of me nowadays.”

“You don’t need to sleep over there.” Hitomi said.

“Thought you said you were too hot,” Hikaru replied, turning the covers down.

“Please,” Hitomi said quietly. “Won’t you stay with me the night?”

Hikaru looked back to where Hitomi lay. “You sure about that?” he asked.

“I don’t think I have to worry about you jumping me,” Hitomi commented. “You said it yourself that you’re too old for that.”

“Tease,” Hikaru said, tossing a pillow at Hitomi who easily swatted it away.

“Come on then,” Hitomi said, pulling the covers back and sliding across leaving an open space.

“I’m more worried about how you’re gonna feel when you wake up in the morning and I’m in bed with you.”

“Stop worrying, Taira,” Hitomi said, pouting. “Just hurry up and come to bed. I want to get some sleep tonight.”

“Okay, okay,” Hikaru said, stepping across and slipping under the covers. The fact that they were both still completely naked didn’t seem to be concerning Hitomi so Hikaru wasn’t going to point it out.

Hitomi dropped his head to rest on Hikaru’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“What for?”

“For always looking out for me and helping me. Thanks for being so a good friend.”

As much as Hitomi’s words gave him pleasure, Hikaru also couldn’t stop the small stab of pain at being called just a friend. Ah, well, what did he expect? He knew that this wouldn’t change anything, and still being Hitomi’s friend was worth a great deal to him.

“Always,” he whispered back although he could tell by the soft breathing that Hitomi had already fallen asleep.

When Hikaru awoke the next morning the sun was already streaming into the room through the window. That’s right; they hadn’t pulled the curtains across last night. The place in the bed beside him was empty, the covers thrown back.

He sat up and saw a silhouette against the window, recognizing it as Hitomi, dressed only in a pair of jeans with bare torso, standing there and looking out across the city. The morning sunlight formed a golden halo around his entire body making him look like some sort of angelic being. He was so beautiful it made Hikaru’s heart hurt.

Hitomi turned. “’Bout time you woke up,” he said, sounding perfectly normal. “I was just about to tip some water on you to see if that would work.”

“You hardly need to go that far,” Hikaru said, scrubbing a hand through his hair, wincing as his fingers caught in some knots. “What time is it?”

“Almost time to leave otherwise we’ll miss our train.”

“Why didn’t you say so sooner?!” Hikaru exclaimed, throwing the covers back and making a beeline for the bathroom.

He could hear Hitomi’s laughter following him. “It’s more fun to watch you panic!”

He stuck his head back through the door to glare at his friend. “You’ll keep,” he threatened. “I’ll get you back one day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hitomi waved the threat aside. “Hurry up and get ready or we won’t have time to get breakfast.”

“Alright, I’m coming,” Hikaru paused then before disappearing back into the bathroom. “Hey.”

“Hmm?” Hitomi replied.

“Are we still okay?” Hikaru held his breath as he waited for Hitomi’s answer, shoulders tense with dread. A soft touch to his shoulder made him start and turn his head to see Hitomi had drawn near.

“We’re fine,” Hitomi answered with a warm smile. He squeezed Hikaru’s shoulders. “I promised didn’t I?”

Hikaru let out the breath and returned the smile. He felt so relieved. He didn’t know what he would have done if his worst fears had come to fruition and Hitomi had rejected him completely.

“That’s good,” he said turning away again.

“Hikaru,” Hitomi’s voice made him pause and look back again. Hitomi was still smiling at him, a soft, gentle smile although tinged with a touch of melancholy. “Thank you. For everything.”

He nodded, with a smile. “Anytime, pal,” and entered the shower.

When they left here and boarded the train they would return to their normal lives. Nothing would change, everything would be back to normal for them both and tonight would be but just a memory from the past.

~End~

Love Me One Last Time - a Rules fic

2008-12-31T15:40:32Z

Title: Love Me One Last Time
Fandom: Rules (Manga)
Pairing: Hikaru/Hitomi

Summary: A wedding draws out uncertainties about the past and the future for Hikaru and Hitomi.

Author’s Note: This is my take on the events early on in Volume 2.

-oOo-

“Phew!” Hikaru exclaimed, tossing his jacket onto the edge of the bed.

He had already undone his tie in the elevator coming up so it hung around his neck, the first three buttons of his shirt open. He immediately pulled at his shirt, tugging it out of the waist of his trousers so it hung loose also.

“Ah, that’s better.” He stretched his arms up in a shoulder popping movement, tipping his head back with a smile as he felt himself relax. Dropping his arms, he drew out his cigarettes and lighter from his pocket, immediately placing one between his lips. “I’m not used to these monkey suits like you two,” he said, throwing a grin at the other occupant of the room.

Hitomi shrugged out of his jacket, draping it neatly over the back of one of the chairs beside the large window. “Hmm,” he murmured, reaching up to undo and remove his tie carefully, laying it over the jacket before loosening his collar button.

Hikaru glanced over, picking up an unusual underlying tone in Hitomi’s simple answer.

“What’s up?” he asked, leaning back against the dresser and watching his friend. “You’ve been pretty quiet all night.”

“Nothing,” Hitomi said, making his way to the edge of the bed. He sat down, shoulders hunched a little, hands hanging between his knees.

Hikaru let the silence remain unbroken as he just watched Hitomi then exhaled slowly, letting the smoke from his lungs drift out. “Didn’t you enjoy yourself tonight?”

“It’s not that,” Hitomi replied, not looking up. “It’s just been a long day.”

“That’s for sure,” Hikaru replied, drawing on his cigarette again. “But it’s been pretty good.” He grinned broadly. “It’s not every day you get all the free food and drink laid on for you!” He chuckled, thinking about it. “Ryuu looked good though, don’t you think? That guy manages to scrub up okay after all!”

“Can I ask you something?” Hitomi suddenly said.

“Sure. What is it?”

“Did you…like Ryuu? In that way?”

“What?!” Hikaru sucked in a breath in surprise then began to cough as the smoke he’d just inhaled caught in his lungs. “What the hell are you saying?” he finally managed to choke out.

Hitomi looked back at him seriously. “Well, that kid at your place,” Hitomi explained. “The one you said you’re seeing now. He looked an awful lot like Ryuu so I wondered if you might have always liked him back then. I mean, I wondered if that’s why you sort of went for someone who looked like him.”

Hikaru ran one hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “Look, I know he does look a bit like Ryuu but that doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a coincidence. And believe me, they have completely different personalities!”

“Oh. Well, I just wondered.” Hitomi said, looking away.

“What’s up with you?” Hikaru questioned, frowning a little as he exhaled again. “Asking me that sort of shit about me and Ryuu. You’re talking crazy, you know.”

“Yeah. I guess I am. Sorry.”

The silence stretched a little longer whilst Hikaru watched his friend closely. Hitomi’s face was thoughtful, even a little sad.

“Are you bothered because he’s married now?” he finally asked quietly.

He saw Hitomi start a little but he didn’t lift his head, keeping his face hidden from Hikaru’s gaze.

“I… guess,” was his answer. “I mean,” Hitomi continued, “we won’t be able to ...hang out like we used to.” Hikaru saw Hitomi’s clasped hands tighten their grip. “I guess I’ve just realised that things are going to be…different now.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Hikaru agreed, watching his friend.

Hitomi still never looked up as he continued to speak. “I’m glad for him. I’m sure it’s the right thing for him to do. So I am happy for him.” The words sounded forced even to Hikaru.

Hikaru sighed softly to himself then stepped forward and sat on the bed next to Hitomi. He didn’t try to break into Hitomi’s thoughts straight away, just sat there a moment longer smoking.

“You knew…I liked him,” Hitomi finally said in a low voice. “Didn’t you?”

Hikaru exhaled. “Yeah.”

Hitomi’s head shot up as he stared wide-eyed at Hikaru. “Then why didn’t you say something?! You should have told me to go to hell, or get lost, or…”

Hikaru reached out and touched Hitomi’s cheek, fingertips barely brushing against the skin yet effectively halting Hitomi’s words.

“Because I loved you,” he said softly, staring directly into Hitomi’s eyes. “Even though I knew your heart really belonged to someone else I hoped you cared for me just a little.” He dropped his hand with a small smile and turned away, placing his cigarette between his lips again. “Even if it was only the tiniest bit of feeling you had for me I was happy to have that much.”

Hitomi’s eyes clouded and he dropped his gaze, hiding his face once again, shoulders hunched. “I’m so sorry,” he said brokenly. “I did such a terrible thing to you. It’s all my fault you…”

Hikaru reached out without looking and smacked the back of Hitomi’s head.

“Ow!” Hitomi exclaimed, staring up at Hikaru, both hands cradling his smarting scalp, eyes tearing up at the force of the slap. “What was that for?!”

“For being a patronising jerk. Jerk,” Hikaru replied calmly.

“I wasn’t!” Hitomi declared, glaring at him. “I was trying to apologise for hurting you!”

“Look,” Hikaru said in a steely voice, pointing his cigarette directly at Hitomi and fixing him with a steady gaze. “Do I look like some weakling, over-sensitive emo kid to you, huh?”

“No, of course not! I…”

Hikaru interrupted. “So what makes you think you have that much power over me and that something like that would make me fall to pieces? I’m still here aren’t I? Dumbass!”

Hikaru stood and walked over towards the window to glance out into the night. He drew on his cigarette deeply before exhaling, watching the drift of smoke in the glass. Telling Hitomi that that was exactly how he had felt back then would be pointless. Telling him how much it had hurt, how it had felt like his heart had been ripped out and crushed, and that he had cried himself to sleep so many nights would change nothing. Telling Hitomi that he had lashed back at his own weakness and taken his anger and pain out on himself by sleeping with anyone, male or female for a time there, even delving into the slightly more dangerous aspects of sex play without any care for himself would be meaningless. Saying any of that would accomplish nothing now so he kept silent.

“You’re right,” Hitomi agreed, rubbing a hand over his eyes with a small laugh. “I guess it was being pretty conceited of me thinking that.” He dropped his head again. “I’m still sorry though. I treated you so badly back then. I should have been more honest with you - and myself, but I was just too much of a coward.”

Hikaru turned and looked at his friend before giving a small shake of his head and walking back towards Hitomi. He reached out and lightly ruffled Hitomi’s hair. “Fine then,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Apology accepted. Now shut up about it, okay?”

He turned and walked over to the dresser, trying to forget the feel of Hitomi’s soft hair against the palm of his hand. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray resting there.

“So do you want to have a shower first?” he asked, glancing into the mirror before him, the rest of the room reflected in the glass. He could see Hitomi where he still sat on the bed though now his pose had changed. He had drawn one leg up, resting his bare foot on the edge of the bed, arms clasped around his raised leg, cheek resting on his knee. His face was thoughtful and his eyes still looked sad.

Hikaru felt the sharp stab in his chest at seeing this. How many times had he seen Hitomi in that pose during their high school and college years? Hitomi’s face may be more mature now and his hair shorter, but seeing him like that made it seem like the years just dropped away. He could remember how he used to try to bring a smile to Hitomi’s face in times like this, how he would try to make Hitomi forget what ever was troubling him, to do anything to try and make him feel better and make that beloved face bright again.

Hikaru squeezed his eyes shut tightly, hands clenching into fists where they rested on the dresser top, trying to calm his churning feelings. Even after all this time Hitomi still affected him like this. He had thought he was well and truly over it by now but it didn’t seem that way after all.

“Well,” he said with false brightness. “I’m going first since you’re not.”

Hikaru immediately headed into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him. Leaning back against it he took a deep breath trying to calm his racing heart. His whole body trembled now, quivering with almost forgotten emotions that were once more bubbling to the surface. He took another deep breath, consciously forcing the shaking to stop. Enough, he scolded himself, giving a last mental shake.

He shed his clothes hurriedly although he took the time to carefully fold and set them aside. He would have to return them to Ryuu who had kindly loaned them since he didn’t have a suit of his own and it was expected to wear one at such occasions as this. Ryuu had informed him that jeans were not acceptable – on pain of castration.

Hikaru stepped under the flowing water, letting the warmth run over him, touching every part of his body, hands coming up to rest on the tiles before him. Geez, how pathetic could he be? After all these years the sight of Hitomi still made him want to reach out and touch him. Who would have thought he still harboured such feelings deep inside. Ah well, after tomorrow they would go their separate ways again and he could forget the turmoil of tonight. It was probably just due to both of them being tired, having too much to drink, and going through a trip down memory lane since it had been some time since all three of them had been together. Weren’t weddings supposed to be emotional times anyway? Wasn’t that what everyone said? Yeah, that’s all this was. Come tomorrow it would all be forgotten.

Although he, Hitomi and Ryuu had continued to remain in touch over these intervening years there had naturally been a gradual widening of the distance between them. Ryuu had moved back to Osaka and his work was quite demanding which had limited the amount of times they saw him. Now he had a wife and no doubt kids soon to take up more of his time.

So that had left him and Hitomi only again. Although he had continued to see Hitomi after they had broken up six years ago, despite their changing lives, he had distanced himself immediately after the dissolution of their relationship. He had needed to give himself some time to come to terms with it and it would have been too painful to have still been seeing Hitomi almost every week. Hitomi hadn’t tried to make any contact with him during that time either so Hikaru guessed he had understood and their need to concentrate on studies was a good excuse.

When he had finally got over his period of self-destructiveness and self-pity he had texted Hitomi. That had been their new beginning, returning to just being friends. It hadn’t been easy so they had taken it slowly. They didn’t even see each other for almost the first four months, communicating only through text messages. It had been a simpler way to ease back into a friendship. From there they began to actually speak on the phone until one night they agreed to meet for a drink.

Hikaru soaped down his body thinking back on that first meeting. He had been so nervous; not nervous in the sense of meeting a date but that gut churning worry that things would go badly when they met. By that time it had been nearly a year since he had last seen Hitomi. Now he worried that he may have changed since then and Hitomi would no longer think they could be friends. It wasn’t like they had had a great deal in common in the first place so what would they talk about now? He had finished two drinks in quick succession due to those worries as he had waited, tugging nervously at his collar, almost sweating as he wondered if Hitomi would even come.

As the time had ticked past the agreed meeting time he had decided that enough was enough. He had got up, intending to leave, believing that Hitomi had stood him up and that it really was all over for them, be it as lovers or friends and feeling like he was going to cry when there had been a loud thump behind him and two arms were thrown around his neck as a body struck him hard enough to make him stumble forward against the bar. He had turned, surprise on his face as he was released, to see a man bowing before him.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” the man said. The head lifted and Hikaru gazed down on Hitomi’s familiar face. Hitomi clapped both hands before him in a gesture of pleading. “Forgive me, I couldn’t get away from work on time. I’m really sorry!”

Hikaru felt his lips twitch and then he laughed outright, one hand brushing his hair back as he met Hitomi’s eyes. Hitomi grinned as Hikaru waved towards the empty seat at his side. “Do you always make such a grand entrance?” he asked, still chuckling.

Hitomi leant down to place his bag closer to his seat from where he had dropped it before sitting. “I didn’t really think about that,” he replied, his cheeks flushed slightly and looking embarrassed as he only now realised that every eye in the bar had been drawn to him.

Hikaru laughed again. “I suppose I should be honoured then that I get such special treatment!” He raised a cigarette, lighting it, then motioned to the bartender for attention.

“Ah, man, don’t start giving me a hard time already!” Hitomi moaned, placing his drinks order. “Work’s been a killer this week so I don’t need you to get on my case as well!”

“Okay, okay,” Hikaru made a soothing motion with his hand, lifting his glass and grinning at his friend. It felt really good to have Hitomi back at his side. It had been something he had been missing for a long time, not even realising that this was what had been lacking in his life. He felt his tension fade away and the warmth of happiness again begin to fill his soul. That was it. It didn’t matter if Hitomi and he weren’t lovers anymore. What was more important to him was to know that Hitomi would always be with him, even if it was just as a friend. That was something that he realised now that he didn’t want to give up – ever.

Hikaru tilted his glass and smiled warmly at Hitomi. “Here’s to old acquaintances,” he said.

Hitomi raised his drink also and the clink of glass could be heard as they met. He smiled back at Hikaru just as warmly. “To old friends. May they last forever.”

“Now that I can drink to!” Hikaru said with a firm nod of agreement. They both downed their drinks in one go, glasses slamming back onto the counter before them as they both choked on the sudden intake of alcohol before bursting out with laughter, heads bent close together.

So that is how their new beginning had started. They had talked the entire night away speaking about everything; the past, the time they had spent apart, even about their future plans and dreams. Their time apart had seemed to have never happened as the hours slipped away. They had finally staggered out of the bar as dawn’s light touched the sky, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders, still laughing, weaving their way down the street to the station. They had parted ways there, Hitomi going in the opposite direction to Hikaru, but parted with promises to catch up again soon. The hug they had given each other was comfortable and unconstrained, no sense of hesitation or uncertainty or worry about what others might think. Hikaru had sighed contentedly as he felt the firmness of Hitomi’s arms around his back, the warmth of his body within his own clasp. He smiled softly into Hitomi’s neck. Yes, this is what he remembered, and he never wanted to lose this again.

Their friendship had continued from there. They often talked on the phone, even caught up fairly regularly for a drink and occasionally to see a movie or to see a band. He had never tried to so much as make a move on Hitomi again, maintaining that space that wouldn’t intrude on personal intimacy and Hitomi had never given any indication that he wanted otherwise. So Hikaru kept his distance. Things had settled into a nice, easy, comfortable co-existence for them and Hikaru thought he had been fine with that. It had seemed that having that time apart initially had allowed his feelings to dissipate, the pain dulling into a barely discerned ache that was buried so deeply he no longer even felt it.

Hikaru watched the soap suds sluice from his body, swirling at his feet before disappearing down the drain. He had thought he was truly over Hitomi for in all that time he hadn’t felt any of these overwhelming urges. He hadn’t been expecting this day to have stirred up so many buried feelings in him once more, feelings he had tried hard to forget and hoped that he had.

He lathered his hair with the shampoo supplied using far more than he normally would. He didn’t really need to wash his hair for he had done it that morning so as to put on his best appearance for Ryuu’s wedding but he needed something to occupy his hands and mind. He scrubbed at his scalp as though to erase the thoughts spinning around in his head, trying to banish the image of Hitomi’s face.

He had thought he had come to terms with the way things were. He hadn’t been unhappy with his life, it had just been that he felt that perhaps something had been missing. A something that he could recall feeling when he had first fallen for Hitomi. It had always been nothing more than a passing thought, a flash of insight which he would steadfastly ignore, not wanting to face such emotions. He had tried to believe that it didn’t really matter anymore. He was older and wiser supposedly and that kind of feeling came when you were young and foolish and believed love was everything. He knew only too well now that love tended to be nothing more than a passing fancy.

Hikaru reached out and rested one hand on the tiled wall, feeling the coolness on his palm in contrast to the warm water beating against him. When he had begun seeing Yuki he had wondered what the boy had really felt for him, why he had asked to come home with him that first night. Of course, it hadn’t taken him long to find out; Yuki wasn’t very good at lying. He had guessed it already really. At least he had known immediately that it wasn’t because of him that the boy had asked to stay the night, he wasn’t that naïve. Still – it had hurt in a strange way when he heard the truth. He had been nothing more than a substitute, a substitute for Yuki’s unrequited feelings for his best friend, as well as a desperate need to resolve his confusion over his own sexuality.

Hikaru chuckled humourlessly. It was the story of his life - to be a substitute for everyone else’s desires. First Hitomi, then Toruu, and now Yuki. He scrubbed harder at his hair, hard enough to actually hurt as the strands began to tangle. When was it going to ever be only for him?

He let his hands fall to his sides. Forget it, he chided himself, trying to shake himself out of the spiral of self-pity before it turned to depression and despair. He turned around, ready to rinse off then froze on the spot. There in the open doorway, shrouded in steam that drifted teasingly over his naked form before hiding those tantalising glimpses of flesh, stood Hitomi.

Hikaru felt a jolt of desire go straight to his groin at this long remembered yet unexpected visage.

“Can I join you?” Hitomi asked in a soft voice, eyes locking with Hikaru’s.

Hikaru swallowed against the dryness of his throat then turned quickly so he once more faced the tiled wall.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he managed to rasp out. He didn’t want Hitomi to see his growing erection yet he couldn’t stop it from happening either. He couldn’t find his centre, that hard earnt self control that he had learnt over the years that kept his heart and emotions carefully contained.

Hikaru tilted his head up so the water struck his face, the spray flushing the lather from his hair down his back and shoulders, effectively making it impossible for him to speak for which he was grateful. The water stung his face a little but he was glad of this touch of discomfort to take his mind from the roiling emotions filling his heart. Go away, he whispered desperately in his mind. Go away, Hitomi, and leave me in peace with my memories of the past.

A touch to his shoulder made him start, a small yelp embarrassingly escaping his lips. He swung his head round to see Hitomi standing close, facing him, back to the wall. He was standing so close their bodies were almost touching, one hand resting on Hikaru’s shoulder.

“I know I’m being selfish again,” Hitomi said in a low voice, eyes dropping. “I know I don’t even have the right any more to even ask you after everything I’ve done. But,” Hikaru felt his fingers tighten their grip on his shoulder as Hitomi looked up, eyes clear and steady, pleading, “would you hold me tonight? Please?”

Hikaru steeled his heart against that look, turning his head away again. “Don’t you think your girlfriend would be pretty pissed off with you?”

He heard Hitomi’s sudden indrawn breath and knew he had struck a nerve. It was probably a little harsh of him but he had to try and make Hitomi see sense. He was just getting caught up in the moment – that was all this was.

“She….” Hitomi answered in a small voice, “probably would be. But,” he paused, the silence stretching so long that Hikaru thought he wouldn’t even continue. “this isn’t about her.” He felt Hitomi’s hand slide from his shoulder to rest flat on his chest, just above his nipple, making him shiver in response. “I...I don't want to be alone tonight. I want to be….with you.”

Hikaru turned his head and looked back at Hitomi, seeing the water dripping down his face, running down his cheeks. Was it only water or were there tears mixed with it?

The look in Hitomi’s eyes was too much for Hikaru; there was sadness, loneliness, and regret. There was the plea for comfort, for the need to believe that things would get better and that pain was not all there was to look forward to for the future. There was the need to seek the touch of someone you trust and love, and to be able to hold that warmth once more, if only for a moment of time.

Hikaru felt his heart clench painfully as he let his eyes fall shut for a moment, sighing silently. He was such a fool. If he did this, if he gave into Hitomi’s request he knew he was the only one who would end up hurt but what could he do? He couldn’t just ignore the lost look and pain in Hitomi’s eyes. He knew only too well what it felt like to lose a loved one. Hitomi had just had to watch the person he truly loved get married to another, knowing that he was losing him a little more every day and being able to do nothing except watch it happen. Worse was knowing that he was losing his loved one without ever having been able to truly share that love with the other - that must be terribly hard. Perhaps he should be grateful that he had been able to spend the time he had with Hitomi; with the person he had loved.

Hikaru slowly reached out, half reluctantly, half eagerly, and encircled Hitomi’s waist with his left arm, drawing the other man closer, bringing him to stand directly in front so they were chest to chest, warm water streaming over them both. Hikaru dropped his head into the crook of Hitomi’s neck, feeling Hitomi’s forehead resting on his shoulder. They remained standing like that for a long time, unmoving, just holding each other.

Hikaru then took a deep breath, memories rushing back as his mind and body reacted to the touch and feel of Hitomi’s body. He lifted his head, drawing back a little, hands resting on Hitomi’s shoulders as he looked at the other’s face. His eyes traced down the scar over Hitomi’s left eye. It had faded a little with age but would never disappear completely. Perhaps that was the nature of all scars, whether they were emotional or physical. They forever remained a part of you.

He noticed that there wasn’t much difference in their heights now although he still stood a little taller. He hadn’t noticed that before; it made looking into Hitomi’s face difficult for his lips seemed so close. Hitomi’s hands rested on his upper arms, holding him lightly yet their touch seemed to bind him in place, searing his flesh.

Slowly one of Hitomi’s hands moved, sliding up his arm, over his rounded shoulder, up the side of his neck to tangle in the wet strands of his hair. The path it took seemed to burn at its passing, making him almost moan with a kind of pain, all the while Hitomi kept his gaze locked with Hikaru’s.

Ah, to hell with it, Hikaru thought, lowering his head slowly, finally giving in to the inevitable. He might regret this tomorrow, most definitely he would, but that would be tomorrow. Tonight he would try to remember and recapture the joy he had once felt at being in the arms of his beloved.

His lips met Hitomi’s ready upraised ones and he thought he would loose consciousness at the jolt that shook his body like a bolt of electricity flooding through his veins. Perhaps he had been under this hot shower too long and the heat was making him pass out. Yes, that must be it; but Hitomi’s lips seemed far hotter than the water - scorchingly so.

Hikaru now fully gave in to his long denied desires. With a moan he crushed Hitomi against him, pressing their bodies tightly together so he could feel hip bones pressing into him. That wasn’t all that was pressing against him. He could feel Hitomi’s cock, hard and rigid sandwiched between them, pressing into his abdomen, nestled against his own erection, even as a second arm encircled his neck. He could hardly believe how quickly they had both become so erect.

Hitomi responded to this sudden response by deepening the kiss, forcing Hikaru’s lips and teeth apart so his tongue could delve forward to explore these warm depths. Hikaru was a little surprised. He had thought that Hitomi would need more time to grow accustomed to being with him again. He was certain that his friend had never been with another man after they had broken up so he had thought that for all Hitomi’s insistence that he would still need time to adjust to the situation. He had thought this would be no more than a simple hand job, jerking each other off quickly under the shower before heading for bed to pretend that nothing had really happened. He hadn’t expected Hitomi to respond to him with an equal passion to what raged within his chest.

So to have Hitomi respond so quickly and easily only fanned the flames of desire. However he held himself back, letting Hitomi take the lead, passively allowing the other to seek out his tongue and coax it forward, inviting Hikaru to return the favour. Hitomi’s tongue flicked lightly over his teeth, trailing ticklishly across his top lip before nipping at the bottom then withdrawing rapidly, only to return and repeat the gesture.

Hitomi broke the kiss, his lips now brushing over Hikaru’s throat, suckling directly over the pulse point. He knew Hitomi would be able to feel his racing pulse, the way his blood pounded through his veins. As he sucked in his breath, Hitomi continued to pepper kisses up and down his throat.

Those tantalising touches enflamed him so much that Hikaru now took control back, plundering Hitomi’s mouth in an attempt to draw every ounce of passion out. He felt Hitomi’s right hand run from the back of his neck, down his throat to rest for a moment on his upper chest, fingers pressing into his flesh. Hitomi pushed against him, pulling back for a heartbeat before Hikaru possessively pulled him in tightly once more, loath to lose contact for even that short a time.

However that brief moment had allowed Hitomi’s hand to slip under Hikaru’s arm so he could now encircle his waist, hand pressing into Hikaru’s back. They held each other like this for a long moment, time becoming meaningless. There was no sound except the sound of the splash of running water, no movement. Just the feel of flesh against flesh, breath mingling with breath, body heat blending with body heat. There was nothing except the feel of each other and the passion burning fiercely between them.

Hitomi’s hand that had been slowly kneading Hikaru’s lower back now shifted, slowly sliding towards the front, bumping over Hikaru’s hip to slip between their bodies. Hikaru’s surprised gasp was swallowed by Hitomi as he wrapped his grip around both their erections, firm grip clasping their rigid cocks. As he began to slowly move his hand, stroking, Hikaru couldn’t prevent the way his hips jerked, thrusting himself into that hold.

Hitomi continued to pleasure them both as Hikaru moaned at the contact, finally breaking the kiss they had held to let his head drop to Hitomi’s shoulder. He had forgotten how good Hitomi’s touch could be as his body automatically responded to the recalled memory of long ago. It shouldn’t be surprising at how good Hitomi was at this. They had learnt this together many years ago, and had once had more than enough time to practice and perfect it. Hikaru could hear Hitomi’s ragged breathing in his ear as he wrapped his arms tighter around the other, allowing himself to become lost in the quickening touch. It felt so good – too good.

“Hitomi,” Hikaru murmured into Hitomi’s neck, lips brushing over moist flesh. “Hitomi,” he repeated, then again like a mantra as his hands slid over slick flesh, seeking to touch every portion of the body held against his. He didn’t want to lose this contact, his body, mind and soul aching to keep hold of it as long as possible.

His hands traced the outline of muscles, the roundness of bicep, the tautness of abdomen, the hard firm thighs. He could feel the pounding of Hitomi’s heartbeat where their chests pressed together, or perhaps it was only the sound of his own,

He was breathing quickly himself, knowing that embarrassingly he wouldn’t last much longer. The combination of pent up desire, forgotten memories, and impending lust made his body crave the climax all the more quickly as though fearing that if it didn’t get there quickly he would lose it all. He let one hand slide lower, slipping over the slick wet skin of Hitomi’s back, tracing down the vertebrae, feeling the bump of every bone, slipping into the dip of Hitomi’s lower back before moving lower to cup the firm roundness of his buttocks. Hikaru kneaded that taut flesh, feeling the muscles bunching and releasing under his touch, his grip pausing at times as the pleasure on his cock intensified with Hitomi’s rapid movements.

Hitomi showed no sign of discomfort at his actions so Hikaru grew bolder, letting his fingers continue on their urgent quest. Moving to the centre of Hitomi’s back, Hikaru slid his long fingers down the crack between Hitomi’s buttock cheeks, pressing lower. His hand moved easily, the water with mixed shampoo suds making the passage slick. He forged on, felt the slight indentation in the flesh and knew he had reached his goal.

He hesitated a moment, uncertain if he should go any further. Perhaps Hitomi really didn’t want anything more. Perhaps he was just trying to appease his own lustful cravings and this would do nothing but completely destroy their friendship. He could bear anything but that.

Hikaru began to draw his hand away when Hitomi tightened his grip on their clasped cocks and quickened the pace of his stroking further. Hitomi’s soft moan and panted breath in Hikaru’s ear excited him to the point of almost being unbearable, blood pounding in his temples. He felt his cock harden further in response as his hips jerked forward, thrusting into that grip as he moaned in unison. He clutched at Hitomi, his hand sliding back to its previous position, pressing Hitomi closer.

He felt Hitomi’s hips push forward then, jerking against him and then thrusting back with a deep moan. Hikaru clenched his teeth and even as the moan fell from Hitomi’s lips he pushed his index finger against that barrier of flesh, feeling the slight resistance before it plunged into a channel of warmth.

He felt Hitomi jerk against him, rising onto the balls of his feet with a sharp cry of surprise as though trying to escape from the intrusion. However in doing so this pushed his cock harder against Hikaru’s body, creating further friction which sent a shudder through his body which Hikaru could feel also which brought forth a groan of what could only be pleasure from Hitomi.

Hikaru began to pump his finger slowly and deeply within Hitomi, turning his hand as he sought that one spot. He peppered kisses across Hitomi’s neck, not caring about the water that he inevitably swallowed also or the slight astringent aftertaste of the shampoo. He felt Hitomi’s free hand clenching and releasing on his shoulder, trying to pull him closer, all the while the hand holding their erect cocks never ceased its motion.

Hikaru twisted his hand again, slipping a second finger within, and this time was rewarded with Hitomi’s entire body jerking against him, every muscle going rigid for a moment as he cried out, head dropping back, a look of ecstasy on his face. Hikaru tensed the muscles in his other arm around Hitomi’s waist, holding him tightly. The last thing he wanted to happen was for Hitomi to fall and be hurt. He searched out that spot again and once more was rewarded with Hitomi’s immediate response.

Hikaru’s own senses were beginning to reel as the pleasure intensified in his groin. Every time Hitomi responded to the touch to his prostate, his grip tightened on Hikaru’s cock. Even though it disrupted the rhythm, the sudden squeeze and release before resuming the uneven stroking only continued to bring Hikaru ever closer to climax.

Hikaru reached up and gripped the back of Hitomi’s neck, pulling his head forward again. As they pleasured each other they kissed; faces, throats, and chests. Hikaru jerked as Hitomi nipped at his flesh, that spot just above his nipple, the soft underside of his jaw. He felt Hitomi moan deeply and his body quiver violently as he sucked on Hitomi’s ear lobe, blowing lightly.

Their breathing was loud now, not even the running water able to hide the sounds of their moans and soft cries. Hikaru felt Hitomi’s grip on their cocks falter for a moment and read the familiar signs. He felt Hitomi’s whole body stiffen for an instant, the fingers of his other hand digging into Hikaru’s shoulder. Then Hikaru felt the spasming of Hitomi’s channel around his fingers as he felt Hitomi’s cock pulse where it touched his stomach and the flood of heat far hotter than the water that cascaded over them.

“Hi..ka..ru!” He heard Hitomi cry out loudly, entire body thrusting against him, fingers digging deeply into firm flesh.

Hitomi’s grip on Hikaru’s cock tightened and it was enough to push him to completion also. He grunted as he came, holding back the cry that he wanted to release. Instead he held onto Hitomi tightly, fearing that he would collapse as his release spurted from his cock, smearing and trapped between them. His body continued to shake from head to toe as he came again and again, draining him completely and still it seemed it demanded more of him.

He gasped one last time, struggling to stand on knees that had turned to rubber as he slowly withdrew his fingers from Hitomi’s body. He felt Hitomi also lean back, shaking, the hand that had been trapped between their bodies sliding away. The water streamed between their separated bodies, immediately washing away the glistening residue smeared over them both.

Hitomi took a couple of steps backwards, one hand still gripping Hikaru’s shoulder as though reluctant to lose contact with him just yet thus forcing Hikaru to follow which he gladly did. Hitomi came up hard against the tiled wall just behind, halting his backward progress, head leaning back, eyes closed.

Hikaru brought his arms up to rest forearms on the tiles on either side of Hitomi’s head, the coolness welcomed by his overheated body. He dropped his head so his forehead rested against Hitomi’s upraised one, eyes also closed, savouring this moment.

“Hikaru.”

The breathy whisper made Hikaru open his eyes, drawing back a little so he could see Hitomi better. He met his friend’s open gaze, feeling like he was falling into those deep eyes. How he had loved this man. He would have done anything to have been able to keep him by his side except Hitomi’s happiness meant more to him than his own. If the price of seeing Hitomi smile again was to be his pain then he would willingly pay it. He wanted to know that Hitomi would once again be able to smile and be happy.

“Hikaru,” was all Hitomi said, closing his eyes again, a small smile on his lips, a smile that Hikaru knew meant ‘thank you’.

Hikaru said nothing. What could he say? There were no words for this moment so all he did was place a light kiss to Hitomi’s lips and then let their heads rest against each other, brow to brow as their rapid heartbeats and breathing slowed to normal.

The water continued to cascade over their joined bodies, washing away all they had done as though it had never happened. Only the feelings held within were left to confirm what they had shared.

Disarm, A Gravi Timed Fic, PG rating

2008-05-25T15:48:00Z

Title: Disarm
Author: despina_moon
Warnings: None
Pairings: Eiri/Shuichi
Prompt: Unexplored Territory. 40 minutes, 32 minutes to write, the rest spent on editing. Not too crazy about this one it was far harder to write than it should have been. Words 323
Summary: Eiri reflects on his new roommate.

Disarm you with a smile
And leave you like they left me here
To wither in denial
The bitterness of one whos left alone
Ooh, the years burn
Ooh, the years burn, burn, burn

I used to be a little boy
So old in my shoes
And what I choose is my voice
Whats a boy supposed to do?
The killer in me is the killer in you
My love
I send this smile over to you

He stood there, his hand in the air waving at the goof-ball who was now, apparently, his roommate. Weird. Strange. The kid was...

Well, Shuichi was annoying but he had an irresistible, clumsy charm and those amazing, penetrating eyes. Maybe it was the idiot's stupidity or maybe it was his innocence. Eiri couldn’t even remember his own innocence, trying to look back at that time always hurt and his thoughts would skitter away from his memories like magnetic opposites.

No matter what it was, something about Shuichi was soothing, giving Eiri's aching soul a strange, unfamiliar respite. Eiri found his new-found emotions irrational and terrifying. He didn’t like this feeling, this free fall of confusion, but he couldn't seem to give the kid a final goodbye either.

He shook his head, rejecting his ridiculous apprehension, after all, he'd had live-in lovers before, hadn't he? Okay, maybe he hadn't had a live-in, but some had spent the night and that counted. Yeah, that counted. Shuichi wasn't different from any other lover, he just happened along when Eiri was particularly horny. The kid didn't make him feel any better and Shuichi's moans and cries didn't sound better than anyone else he'd had before. There was no difference at all.

Yeah. He watched Shuichi's back until he couldn't see the stupid brat anymore then he went inside his house. Glaring at the pile of Shuichi's stuff, he made his way to his kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and then opened his refrigerator, taking stock. He needed to work, but instead, he would first go to the store. After all, they would need to have dinner and Eiri didn't trust the brat to cook. Shuichi might burn the house down or hurt himself.

Eiri sighed with his thoughts. The kid was really getting to him. Well, he comforted himself, he could kick Shuichi out at any time, Eiri still held all the power, didn't he?

Yeah.

Lyrics for Disarm by Billy Corgan

Gravi Drabble, Superstar

2008-05-17T18:44:12Z

Author: despina_moon
Title: Superstar
Pairings: no pairings, Tohma
Rating: PG
Word Count: 564
Summary: Tohma checks in on Ryuichi’s first encounter with Shuichi.
Time: 33 minutes to write, 10 minutes to look over, read at your own peril.
Notes: Prompt is rebirth time limit is 30 minutes. Concrit is good.

Superstar

And you better wear your shades
The spotlights here can burn holes through the stage
Down through the basement
Past the Indian graves
Where the dinosaurs laid
And out through China
Nearly misses air liners
Magnified times five
This is pointed at the rhymer
Ricochets off the moon and sets the forest ablaze
Now that's important to say
Cuz even with all of that
Most of us don't want it to fade
We want it to braid
Meaning we want it to grow
Meaning we want it to stay
Like the governor called
And they told him to wait
Un-strap him from the chair
And put him back in his cage
The audience ain't fazed
And they ain't gon' clap and they ain't gon' praise
They want everything back that they paid
Cuz they been waiting since ten to see the lights get dim

If you are what you say you are
a superstar
then have no fear
the crowd is here
and the lights are on and they want a show

*****************************

Perhaps Tohma’s actions were unfair to Sakano-san, postponing his trip with Mika-san to see this encounter. Maybe he was he overstepping his bounds and undermining Sakano-san’s work by attending Bad Luck’s performance. Even so, Sakano-san had unwisely invited Ryuichi to the concert as a special guest, unknown even to Bad Luck. There was very little that would keep Seguchi Tohma away from the ensuing train wreck.

He remained out of sight, wishing to observe everything. He stood on a catwalk, off to one side of the stage, no one but a few stagehands and the club owner knew he was there. He silently made a promise to himself that he would not intervene unless absolutely necessary.

Shindou-san was unpredictable at best, but when he was under stage lights, the boy was capable of transforming into something remarkable, if all went well. He’d seen similar behavior with Ryuichi, but he had thought it a singular event. Tohma, however, knew that there would be were several emotional hurdles coming with Shindou-san’s stage performance this evening, how the boy handled them would be interesting to watch.

Eiri-san, of course, seemed to be Shindou-san’s biggest roadblock. Tohma was increasingly puzzled over Eiri-san’s tolerance of the boy. Was Shindou-san important to Eiri-san? Mika-san seemed to think so.

Moments before the stage lights lowered and Bad Luck took the stage, Tohma spied Sakano-san and Ryuichi at the back of the room. Ryuichi seemed docile but his volatility was always only a word or action away. What was Noriko-san up to when she invited him?

Tohma heard Nakano-san’s guitar whine and Noriko-san’s synthesizer joined in before spotlights burst to life and focused on Shindou-san. His voice was strong and clear, full of swaggering confidence, as it should. Tohma nodded to himself, Sakano-san had done well with the two misfits, maybe Bad Luck would fit in well on N-G’s label after all.

Then, of course, all hell broke loose. Shindou-san began faltering with his lyrics. Tohma followed Shindou-san’s line of sight, scanning the room. He was hardly surprised when he found Eiri-san amongst the crowd but he was mildly amazed to see Ayaka-san with him. Predictably, Shindou-san was not taking their appearance well. If Shuichi-san managed to stay with N-G, Tohma would have to do something about his relationship with Eiri-san, the boy needed more focus. Tricky for him to manipulate with Eiri-san involved. Ah, well, he’d think of something.

Shindou-san was still struggling with the words and finally he quit singing altogether, instead, he began blathering about his feelings for Eiri-san. To add to the mayhem, Ryuichi took the stage and additional chaos commenced while Tohma moved off the catwalk and towards a downtrodden Sakano-san. Tohma supposed a bit of consoling was now in order.

Minutes later, with Sakano-san reasonably reassured, Ryuichi handling the faux pas on stage, and Eiri-san carrying a look of contentment, Tohma felt the night was well worth his trouble. Then Ryuichi did something completely startling. He sang, alone and without music, amazing the crowd, Bad Luck and Sakano-san.

Tohma, however, knew what Ryuichi was doing. His song was a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down for Shindou-san to pick up. There was the flash of light in Ryuichi’s eyes, one Tohma knew very well. He smiled knowing that soon, Bad Luck would need a replacement for Noriko-san.

Like a phoenix, Nittle Grasper would soon experience a rebirth.

Lyrics for Superstar by Lupe Fiasco

Gravi fic: She Sells Sanctuary, PG

2008-05-12T03:45:48Z

I'm a member of saiyuki_time a challenge community that once a week posts a prompt and a time limit to write your story. The comm has reignited my joy in writing so I thought if it worked for one fandom, why not two?

If you are a Saiyuki fan at all, please check out saiyuki_time, the writing there is amazing.

Title: She Sells Sanctuary
Author: despina_moon
Warnings: worksafe, some violence
Pairing(s): None - all Eiri
Notes: Challenge prompt: Write about someone's first time. However, the first time in your story cannot refer to a first sexual experience of any kind. Time spent writing: 65 minutes (5 minutes over!) Words: 915. Because this piece is unbeta’d (that’s sort of the point of the timed prompt) you will see some grammatical errors, I am, after all, grammatically challenged. Please let me know what I can improve and give Full-contact concrit.

The heads that turn
Make my back burn
And those heads that turn
Make my back, make my back burn

The sparkle in your eyes
Keeps me alive
The sparkle in your eyes
Keeps me alive, keeps me alive

Sure in her you'll find
Sanctuary
I'm sure in her you'll find
The sanctuary

World, and the world
And the world, and the world
The world turns around
The world drags me down

She Sells Sanctuary

Eiri sat with his back against a cherry tree, finishing his smoke. He was trying out a new brand of cigarettes and so far, he wasn’t crazy about them. Although it was lunchtime, he figured he was relatively discreet and the teachers at his school tended to give him a wide berth. He suspected some of them were afraid of him.

School was incredibly dull but it gave him a break from being at home. His father had been happy enough that he wanted to attend school after returning from New York. The less his loving father had to see Eiri, his disappointment of a son was better. Eiri supposed his daily absence was just as well.

Mika also received a break while Eiri was at school. Eiri knew she was still worried about him and the changes she saw in him. He sighed, feeling his dark melancholy return. He would need to write tonight. Writing always helped him deal with his darkness.

He heard several young men behind him and through some bushes. They were also smoking and discussing girls.

“Did you see her?” One of them asked lowly.

“Takahashi? Yeah, she’s pretty hot.” The second one answered.

“I heard she’s been at an all girls reform school for the last year.” The first boy said.

“What for?”

“The rumors are that she was raped.”

“Raped? Hmmm, well that’s good news. That means she’s probably easy.”

They all laughed. Eiri found himself clenching a fist and his stomach turned.

Boy number two asked, “Why would they send her away for that?”

“Her family was probably embarrassed.” Boy number three speculated.

“I guess she went wild afterwards and her parents couldn’t control her anymore. They sent her away to get help.” The first boy explained.

Help? They helped her by sending her away? Eiri shuddered and then barked out a laugh.

“Who’s there?” Boy number one called out.

Eiri stood and lit another cigarette.

The three fell to whispering amongst themselves but they quickly moved away, glancing furtively over their shoulders at him.

“Idiots,” Eiri said while he sat back down.

A few days later, he was in his customary spot trying out yet another brand of cigarettes when he heard a scream. Curiosity getting the best of him, he followed the sound. He heard sounds of struggles as he neared the small clearing.

“She kicked me!” One of the boys Eiri heard before hissed in anger. “Hold her down!”

A girl with short hair was pinned to the ground. There were four boys trying to contain her but Eiri admired her fighting spirit. One boy was holding his eye while kneeling on a thrashing arm.

Another boy pushed up her pleated skirt, baring her plain, white underwear. “Stop fighting, Takahashi! We’ll be done soon enough.”

“Yes,” one of the others said. “Besides, it’s not like you are a virgin.”

She screamed out her fury.

Eiri stepped out from behind a tree and lit another cigarette.

Everyone paused.

Takahashi’s hair was tangled and covered with leaves. She looked at Eiri with complete disdain. “Have you come along to join the gang-bang?” She nearly spat out the words.

“Hardly,” Eiri answered, his voice was neutral. “I don’t need to rape someone in order to have sex. I’m not like these losers.”

“What?” One of the boys stood and moved closer to Eiri. He was nearly half a foot taller than Eiri. “You’re seriously outnumbered, here, Uesugi.”

“Uesugi?” One of the others laughed. “I remember you when you were little. You’d cry over the smallest thing. “

Eiri inhaled his smoke, remembering and embracing his fear from New York. His anger grew. “Let her go.”

The boy sneered at Eiri. “Think you can take all of us?”

Eiri punched him in the face. There was a lovely sickening crunch as nose cartilage broke under his knuckles. Eiri’s skin split under the impact of his blow and he felt a rush of power fill him. He smiled, something he hadn’t done in many months. With something close to joy, he turned to his next would-be attacker.

The confusion that followed was enough that Takahashi managed to break free. Eiri was delighted to find that she didn’t run but instead, she threw herself headlong into the fray. At the end of their fight, Eiri actually had to pull her away.

Later, they sat together smoking under Eiri’s customary cherry tree.

“Aren’t you going to ask?” Takahashi said.

“Ask what?”

“Why I was sent to reform school.”

Eiri rolled the back of his head against the tree in order to look over at her. “It doesn’t really matter to me what happened.”

“Oh.” She took a small drag of her cigarette and coughed. “Aren’t you going to ask me out?”

“No.”

“Why not?” She asked. “Am I not pretty enough? I hear you’ve already slept with half the school.”

He glared at her. “I don’t ask out friends.”

She glared back. “When did we become friends? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“So? Does it have to make sense?”

She rolled her eyes. “I guess not.”

Several minutes of silence passed before she said, “I wasn’t aware that you were friends with anyone.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh,” she said, leaning against the tree. “I don’t have any friends either, they are too much trouble.”

“I know what you mean,” Eiri almost smiled at her, “but I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

She grinned back at him. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Lyrics for 'She Sells Sanctuary' by The Cult.

Kaleidoscope Dimensions - Chapter 1b

2008-02-10T12:17:16Z

The final of Chapter 1!

Name: Kaleidoscope Dimensions
Author: Despina and Jadeheart
Fandom: Thousands – a crack!fic of unreal proportions
Rating: R – references to sexual situations
Words: No idea!
Summary: The effects of the twisted dimensions begin to show.

Iwaki drove out of Tokyo, seeking to escape the swarming traffic if only for a moment. He navigated the motorways before branching off onto smaller roads, moving further into the rural countryside. He was going no particular place, he was simply trying to find some solitude. If he was honest with himself he was trying to escape his own thoughts which was a foolish thing for he carried them with him.

As the wind whipped through his hair, lashing it against his face he was grateful for the dark sunglasses that at least protected his eyes. He should have perhaps put the top up first but he had wanted to breathe the fresh air. He had felt he was suffocating back home.

How had things come to this, he wondered. It had all begun with Tohma Seguchi’s appearance that day, now two months ago. Everything had begun changing at that time.

He had been surprised at Katou’s eagerness to go along with Seguchi’s proposition that day. Yes, it was quite lucrative and at an earlier time in their careers even he would have been more than keen to try to win such a role. And to have someone like Tohma Seguchi of NG Productions approach them; that would have been a very great honour indeed. It still was, but he truly had felt that it was a step backwards for them. He knew Katou was capable of so much more. He had been watching his younger partner continue to grow in his abilities year after year and felt a keen sense of pride in him. He wanted to see Katou continue onto far greater heights which he truly believed he could achieve. That is what he wanted.

Yet Katou then chose to be the promotional figure for NG Productions. Yes, he was getting some additional exposure but Iwaki worried that by doing this he would be compartmentalising himself, showing he was more suitable for advertisements and not for serious acting. The television and film world was a fickle mistress and Iwaki was concerned that she would retaliate if she thought she had been scorned in favour of something else. Iwaki didn’t want Katou to have to suffer such a fallout.

Still, he had been prepared to sit back and not try and stop his partner after he’d made his decision. He had always supported Katou, just as Katou had supported him. That is what partners did. So, despite his misgivings and he couldn’t help but be convinced that there was more to all this than Tohma Seguchi had said, he had been determined to keep any further thoughts on the matter to himself and let Katou do as he chose.

He navigated a tight curve as he continued up the mountainside on the narrow road, concentrating for a moment solely on his driving. His lips pressed together tightly as his thoughts returned to his partner again.

Even though he had intended to support Katou’s decision, difficulties seemed to arise almost immediately. With their already busy schedules which often conflicted so they had limited time together, added to with Katou’s additional work with NG Production suddenly Iwaki was seeing nothing of his partner. Katou claimed that he slept at NG Productions, or in a nearby hotel as there wasn’t enough time to try and return home and then be back at work. That was understandable – except he often wouldn’t even bother contacting Iwaki to let him know this, leaving him waiting at home, wondering if his partner would return that night, the dinners he cooked slowly cooling on the table. After the first two weeks, Iwaki stopped making dinner for two.

Still he had held his tongue during those first few weeks, determined to wait it out, believing that Katou would recognise the trouble also and take steps to alleviate it but nothing had changed. When Katou did finally return home on some nights he didn’t even bother coming to bed, instead falling asleep on the couch where Iwaki would find him in the morning. That’s if he wasn’t already gone by the time Iwaki arose, the only evidence of his presence generally being the cushions thrown on the floor.

This fragmented existence to their generally smooth relationship had begun to take its toll on Iwaki then. He had tried to speak to Katou, asking him to consider what he was doing. Katou had understandably become defensive although Iwaki had tried hard to not sound as though he were attacking him. That conversation had ended in a heated argument which left them both angry.

To try and mend things, Iwaki had made the effort to go to NG Productions after the last day of his television series filming that week in the hope that he could pick Katou up and at least entice him to have dinner together. In the hope that he could do this he had already booked a table at a very expensive restaurant which was Katou’s favourite. He’d been informed that Katou was still busy when he’d arrived so had settled down to wait.

“This is a pleasant surprise, Mr. Iwaki,” a smooth voice said behind him.

Iwaki looked up from the magazine he’d been reading as the person stepped into his field of vision and he gazed upon Tohma Seguchi.

The man smiled at him, but Iwaki didn’t sense any real warmth in it. “Are you waiting for Katou?”

Iwaki opened his mouth to deny this when he realised that it would be pointless to do so. What other reason would he have in being here other than to see Katou?

“Yes,” he replied shortly.

“I’m afraid that it will most likely be a late night,” Seguchi replied, that smile still on his face. “I would hate to see you wasting your time here for no purpose.”

Iwaki had the distinct impression that the man was trying to make him leave, even if it was done so politely. Was he trying to hide something?

He glanced down at the magazine on his knees. “I believe I will still wait,” he said. “I’m sure that Katou will let me know when he is likely to be finished for the day.”

There was silence for a moment but Iwaki could see Seguchi’s polished shoes still before him, unmoving.

“Ah, well, I don’t believe that will be possible,”

Iwaki looked up at that to see Seguchi’s head now tilted to one side slightly as he gazed down at him. “And why would that be?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Katou is in the middle of some photo shoots and the proofs must be completed by tonight. So he will most likely have to remain here all evening in case further re-shoots are required.” That smile seemed to grow a little smug. “I’m afraid Katou will not be coming out for anything. Our resident photographer is very strict about such matters. I’m sure you understand.”

Iwaki didn’t know what to say. He felt that Seguchi was trying to block him in seeing Katou, yet he had no call to claim he was lying either. He knew full well how demanding photo shoots could be, although this did seem a little extreme. Was Seguchi truly trying to keep him away from Katou? Why? What could be his reason?

A dark feeling began to grow in the bottom of his heart. Or was it that Katou didn’t want to see him? Was he deliberately avoiding him after their last argument? Did he no longer wish to be with him? That old fear that Katou would one day abandon him returned suddenly, almost overwhelming his senses. He had thought after this long that he had quelled it finally but obviously it still lurked deep inside his heart.

“You needn’t worry,” Seguchi spoke again. “I’ll be sure to take very good care of Katou.”

Iwaki looked up at that, hearing the caressing tone in the other man’s voice.

Seguchi smiled broadly at him as he turned and began to walk away. He looked back over his shoulder towards Iwaki, holding his gaze. “After all, Katou is very important to me. He gives…so much of himself for his work, doesn’t he? He’s very… enthusiastic.”

Iwaki felt himself go cold. What did Seguchi mean? What was he implying? It sounded like he was saying that Katou had…..

“As recompense for his…eagerness to please, the least I can do is take very, very good care of him,” Seguchi’s smile now seeming almost challenging. “So don’t be concerned.” Seguchi now walked away, his footsteps echoing down the empty corridor. “In time I’m sure there won’t be a single part of Katou that I won’t know…intimately. Good night, Mr Iwaki.”

Iwaki sat there, frozen in place, the magazine lying on the floor at his feet where it had slipped from nerveless fingers. Seguchi’s words tumbled through his head over and over again, every nuance of tone, every pause in speech. The coldness continued to grow within him like ice slowly coalescing over his soul, inching over his heart, stealing his warmth.

One hand rose up to grip the front of his shirt directly over his heart as he stared unseeing at his knees, not seeing the splash of tears falling to the fabric of his trousers. No, Katou wouldn’t do that. He had to believe that, he had to. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled out the glass doors and to his car. As he started the engine he had to rub a hand over his eyes to clear them of the moisture that was making his vision blurry. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath, trying to gain his equilibrium before heading home.

He managed to hold it together on the way home, and simply sat in the darkness of the home he shared with Katou, a drink set before him slowly melting the ice cubes. He knew it was getting late, darkness had fallen long ago but he couldn’t bring himself to get up to turn a light on. The darkness was more fitting for his thoughts at this time.

He suddenly heard the scratching at the front door just before it opened and Katou strode in.

“Iwaki, what are you doing?” he asked, slipping out of his shoes. He reached out and turned the lights on causing Iwaki to blink painfully at the sudden brightness. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

“No reason,” Iwaki said quietly, reaching out to pick up his drink, hiding his face behind the raised glass.

“Boy, I’m beat!” Katou said with feeling as he went immediately into the kitchen. Iwaki could hear the fridge door opening and then the crack of a can as Katou opened a beer. “Is there anything for dinner?” he asked as he returned to the lounge room, dropping onto the couch beside Iwaki with a deep sigh.

“No,” Iwaki stated simply. He hadn’t cooked anything as he had hoped to be eating out with Katou. As it was, they could have made the restaurant if he had known Katou would have been finished at this time.

Iwaki took another drink then asked quietly, “I thought you would be working late tonight.”

“Huh?” Katou absently answered, taking a drink himself. “Why’d you think that?”

“I asked at your…work,” Iwaki said, not mentioning he had actually gone there.

“Really? Well, I guess we were pretty busy but everything seemed to go well so there wasn’t any point in staying longer. Besides Tohma had something come up suddenly that he had to attend to.”

“Tohma…?” The coldness around Iwaki’s heart seemed to drop another degree. Katou was so familiar with Seguchi to be calling him by his first name? Had he only come home because that man had been called away? Otherwise, was he saying that he would have stayed with him?

“Yeah, he had some kind of international teleconference call that he needed to deal with. He’s amazing at just how much he does,” Iwaki could hear the admiration in Katou’s voice and his hands clenched into fists on his knees. “I’ve never met anyone like him before.”

“You seem…..very impressed by him.” Iwaki stated in a tight voice.

Katou seemed oblivious to his partner’s discomfit, tossing back the rest of his drink. “He’s a great guy! He always knows exactly what he wants and he’s not afraid of doing what ever he has to, to get it. Anything he wants he always gets from everyone. I don’t think there’s anything that he hasn’t got that he wanted.”

“Do you include yourself in that assessment?” Iwaki said between clenched teeth.

“Uh?” Katou paused in placing the empty can on the table. “What do you mean?”

“He got you, didn’t he?” Iwaki said, voice still tightly controlled. “He came here to get you and you immediately went along with him. That must mean you are the same as everyone else.”

“Well, I guess in a way,” Katou said, running a hand through his hair and looking up at the ceiling.

“So do you give him everything else that he wants?”

“I suppose so,” Katou’s off hand reply stabbed right through Iwaki’s heart. “He is my boss now so it kind of goes with the territory.”

Iwaki abruptly stood unable to listen to any more. “So you believe that for the sake of your work you should give everything to that man? You would let him control everything about you, take everything? Do you keep nothing sacred?”

“Iwaki,” Katou began, frowning now as he gazed up at Iwaki’s profile. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. What do you mean ‘sacred’? You know I give everything to my work.”

Everything; Iwaki closed his eyes in pain. Yes, Katou was giving everything to his work. And everything to that man.

He turned abruptly and strode towards the stairs to his bedroom.

“Hey, Iwaki,” Katou called out, scrambling to his feet and catching him up, grabbing his arm. “Where are you going? I thought that since I was home early tonight we could spend it together.”

His arms snaked around Iwaki’s waist drawing him back against him, nuzzling his neck. He seemed unaware of the still way Iwaki was holding himself. “It’s been so long since I’ve held you,” Katou murmured softly. He inhaled deeply. “I want to bury myself in your body, rub your scent over every part of me, taste you on my tongue, feel your heat wrapping around me.”

The pain that tore through Iwaki’s soul then was so intense that he spun around, slapping Katou’s hands away violently. He was breathing harshly as he stared fiercely into Katou’s face that held a bewildered expression.

“Iwaki…?” Katou began but Iwaki cut him off, spinning around and walking away.

“Don’t touch me!” he snapped, not looking back. “Don’t come anywhere near me.”

“But, Iwaki….” Katou tried to follow and reach out to him but this time Iwaki sensed it and turned at the last minute, his hand striking Katou across the cheek in a resounding slap. Katou looked completely shocked, one hand coming up to nurse the assaulted side of his face, his eyes wide and staring at Iwaki as though he was looking at a stranger.

“I told you not to touch me!” Iwaki yelled, his breath coming in harsh pants, every one making his chest ache. “I will not be nothing more than your left-overs!”

“Iwaki!!”

He ignored Katou’s cry as he slammed the door to the bedroom and clicked the lock into place. He leant back against it, eyes closed, feeling the thump against his back as Katou continued to pound on it, begging him to open it up and talk to him, asking what he’d done wrong.

Iwaki dropped his face into one hand, tears leaking between his fingers. How could Katou ask what had he done wrong? He as good as admitted that he was prepared to sell himself to Seguchi whom he admired so much – if he hadn’t already done so. The image of Katou lying spread beneath Seguchi, eyes closed in pleasure, body soaked in sweat, those sweet moans falling from his parted lips rose before Iwaki’s eyes making him almost choke. He stumbled to the bed, falling face down on it, burying his face in the pillow as he cried and cried.

Iwaki blinked rapidly, feeling the tears on his cheek whipped away rapidly by the wind as he increased his speed. When he had awoken the next morning, face stiff with salt and dark circles around red-rimmed eyes Katou wasn’t anywhere to be found in the house. He didn’t return to the house again. Two days later Iwaki had returned to find the side of the wardrobe that had held Katou’s extensive range of designer clothes empty, and upon a frantic search discovered that almost all signs of Katou’s presence in the house were gone. He had fallen to his knees in the middle of the floor and just stared at nothing for many long hours. Katou had truly left him this time.

He had wanted to contact Katou, to try and speak to him. Every day he found he missed him more and more. It felt like he was missing a limb. Until it was gone you didn’t realise just how much you needed it and even though it was gone the phantom ache of its absence made you long for it all the more. He had desperately wanted to be with Katou and try and mend things between them but he didn’t know quite how to do that.

Everywhere he went he could see the evidence of how hard Katou was obviously working in the short span of time he’d signed with NG Productions; posters, radio interviews, television appearances. The ratings of his TV series rose from this added exposure and his overall ranking in the various magazines also increased. Iwaki could see that things were going well for him and he didn’t feel that he should impose at this time and possibly cast a shadow over Katou’s current shining star.

He had learnt that Katou was now living elsewhere, apparently alone, and had watched as Tohma Seguchi had easily fended off the insistent queries of the press as to the standing of Katou’s and Iwaki’s relationship by explaining it away as simply Katou begin considerate of Iwaki’s demanding schedule as well as his own during this hectic time. With Katou smoothly smiling in the background and not denying it, it seemed to appease the paparazzi. At least for the moment. As for the future, Iwaki didn’t know what was there for them now.

He finally pulled into a tiny road, barely more than a track, driving further into the encompassing trees. He eventually stopped and turned off the engine, stepping out of the vehicle and walking away. He didn’t think he would have anything to worry about as far as someone stealing the car. There appeared to be no-one around for some distance and he was grateful for the solitude.

He continued walking on, feeling himself relax a little, the tension begin to leave his shoulders. He raised his face to the sky, closing his eyes for a moment as he paused, letting the breeze ruffle his hair and feeling the flickering warmth of the sun on his face. He breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of sandlewood and what seemed to be camellias. He let the breath out slowly, trying to will himself to relax and continued on, moving further into the trees.

He suddenly reached the edge of the treeline and saw fields stretched out before him, shadows racing across the ground from the clouds above. He decided that it would be nice to sit out in the open on the slope for a little while, sit and try and relax. He didn’t want to return to that empty house which only served as a constant reminder of what he’d lost.

He walked on a little further before folding his long length and sitting on the ground. The grass was cool beneath his hand, the sun was warm on his face as he lifted it to the sky. His hair lifted with the slight breeze that continued to blow, brushing it against his cheeks.

He didn’t know what to do now. He wanted to be with Katou, wanted it desperately and he didn’t want it to end like this. As much as he didn’t want to interfere with Katou’s work he couldn’t help but feel anger at the way things were. For that he blamed Tohma Seguchi. He wouldn’t have thought Katou would have been swayed by such a man but he did have to admit that Seguchi held a great deal of power in this world now and that couldn’t be ignored. Was he being too naïve to think that Seguchi couldn’t bring enough pressure to bear that wouldn’t make Katou give in to his demands? Iwaki knew that he was quite proud, but Katou was also in his own way.

Iwaki pulled at the grass absently. But Katou was also far more easy going and could go with the flow of things far easier than Iwaki could. So if Katou thought it was for the best he might just do something, believing it was the best at that time and he would sort out the possible mess afterwards. Iwaki couldn’t do that but Katou just might.

Iwaki now clamped both hands together between his knees tightly, gazing out into the distance. So that meant that Katou might have just given in to Seguchi’s demands and slept with him. He would probably have just treated it as no different to if he were doing an AV; Katou was good at acting – especially in that. Iwaki knew that when Katou made love to him it was very different to how he did it, and how he looked, when making an AV.

His lips pressed firmly together, thinning into a fine line. Seguchi was the one at fault here, manipulating Katou, seducing him with fame and fortune, taking advantage of him and making him into nothing more than what he had once been. Katou was far more than just some AV actor and Seguchi had no right to try and drag him back down to that. If more of that was seen around the world Katou wouldn’t have been such a coup for Seguchi.

Iwaki felt his anger smouldering deep inside him, mingled with the pain of his separation from Katou when suddenly there was a bright flash, intense enough to stab through his eyes painfully, forcing him to close them and turn away with a sharp cry, one arm thrown up as protection. Beneath him, he could feel the ground shaking, the tremors running through his body, strong enough to throw him off balance so he fell to his side. His fingers dug into the earth as the rumblings continued and the world rocked around him.

It ceased as suddenly as it begun and he simply lay there for a moment, confused. It hadn’t felt like an ordinary earthquake. He was quite used to those, he had grown up with them so he knew what they felt like this. This wasn’t anything like that.

He slowly sat up, blinking his eyes, still seeing tiny dark spots in his vision from the earlier glare. What had just happened?

Now his eyes were drawn to what had appeared before him. A little further down the hill now stood an aperture; a portal that shimmered and crackled with suppressed energy, seething with power.

Iwaki could just stare at the sight. He was fully aware of the existence of these portals. They had appeared some years ago and the governments of all the worlds had taken great care to educate the populace on their presence. They also controlled them very closely and Iwaki knew that this one hadn’t been here but a moment ago. So that meant the portals were still appearing, despite the governments assurance that they had stabilised.

He stood and cautiously moved closer. He didn’t know much about these strange portals; that was restricted to a privileged few and not for the common people. He knew they connected to other dimensions and also knew that there was no telling where those dimensions were. He also knew that it was possible to pass through them but that was at great peril if you didn’t know what you were walking into. He studied it carefully, fascinated by the sight.

He stepped forward again, drawing nearer. He probably should return to the car and report this new appearance to the authorities. They would no doubt want to control and monitor it. That would be the sensible thing to do.

He was about to turn away when the centre of the portal pulsed violently, sucking inwards and then thrusting forward. A fierce wind burst from its centre, whipping through the air, wrapping around Iwaki tightly. His hair now whipped against his face painfully, the pressure of the wind forcing him to squint. He raised his arms, trying to protect himself, to turn and break free but he was unable to do so.

His feet slipped a little on the grass as he was dragged forward now, towards the portal that he could still see writhing and crackling. He continued to try and fight his way free, struggling harder as he was dragged forward again. The wind continued to pull in towards the portal, never letting up the pressure and Iwaki was helpless against it. He was fearful of his life now; there was no telling what was on the other side of this portal, which meant there was no telling if he would survive if he entered. Nor was there any guarantee that he would be able to return.

With a sudden yank Iwaki overbalanced and was pulled in until he was directly in front of the portal, the toes of his shoes actually over the edge and not visible to him any longer. The viscous-seeming centre twisted outwards and around him, making him feel that he would be smothered in it but no amount of flailing removed it from his body. It swiftly engulfed him fully, although in doing so the violent wind no longer could touch him.

Now the scene before him changed, the portal matter parting as though it were a theatre curtain and Iwaki gazed upon a strange landscape. It seemed harsh and barren; black jagged rocks, and in the distance loomed a tall castle with heavy dark clouds swirling around the top and lightening split the grey sky.

Closer to him were men fighting, but they weren’t all men; at least not to his eyes. Some had long pointed ears that stuck out from the sides of their heads, their hands were clawed, and when they shouted their teeth were sharp like fangs. There was a ferociousness about the way they fought that terrified Iwaki. They seemed to have little regard for their lives, flinging themselves forward against what appeared to be the opposing army.

“Kou!”

Iwaki turned to see who had called out and saw a tall man, broad shoulders, dressed all in white with a long wicked sword. Even as he watched the man swung and sliced through three opponents, and before the body parts dropped to the ground the man had already moved on at a run.

Where he was running to another man stood. No, not a man. This was definitely one of the demons, pointed ears, long red hair, sharp fingernails. Iwaki saw him slash two opponents bare handed and then seemed to disappear, only to reappear a moment later high in the sky where he had leapt. That alone told Iwaki he could be no normal man, even if his appearance hadn’t already betrayed that knowledge. A red glowing sphere appeared between the man’s hands, growing, and then he threw it downwards towards the milling forms below. When it struck the explosion was so fierce that Iwaki felt the wave of heat strike his face.

This isn’t a dream, Iwaki thought with shock, feeling his cheeks still warm. This is real. His mind grappled with this knowledge. I have to get out of here!

“Kou,” The man in white arrived at the same spot just as the other fell to earth and landed lightly on his feet in a way that reminded Iwaki of a cat. “We’ve got to keep moving! Gyokumen Koushu is increasing the power of the minus wave. It’s gonna send all these,” and he jerked his head towards the still battling forms around them, “completely insane soon.”

“I know that!” The red haired man snapped, even as he slew more foes. “Come on!”

They both turned and began to fight their way through when there was a loud rumble and Iwaki felt the ground shift beneath his feet once more. The two men stopped, looking up at the castle above. The rumbling continued and then there was a ripple in the air, strong enough to actually be visible, distorting the view of anyone looking.

“Ah, shit!” The man in white said, tightening his grip on his sword. “We’re too late!”

The ripple in the air rolled down the mountain, rocks exploded in its wake, the ground continuing to roll and heave.

“Let’s get out of here, Kou!” The man now turned to the other who was obviously his leader.

“I’m not leaving,” the red haired man said, staring up at the destruction that was rapidly approaching.

“Kou!” The other grabbed his arm and he spun around to glare.

“I’m not leaving my mother, Dokugakuji!”

The taller man didn’t release his grip, obviously not cowered. “We’ve got to get out of here,” he just said firmly, staring directly into those cat-like eyes. “Not even you stand a chance against that at full power.” They continued to match looks, neither turning away. “Kou, we can’t afford to lose you. There will be another time.”

Iwaki didn’t think the red haired man would listen but then he shook the other free, giving one further glance towards the castle before turning his back on it completely and facing his comrade.

“Fine. Let’s get out of here.”

Iwaki watched as they grasped hands, the red haired man chanting something and then both were wrapped in a sphere of light just as the wave of distortion crashed down around them. As it struck the sphere it seemed to part and flow around them, leaving them unharmed and then they disappeared complete.

The others were not so fortunate. As the wave washed over the other demons they grabbed at their chests and heads, fanged mouths open as they screamed in pain, clawing at themselves so violently that the blood flowed freely as though trying to escape something that was inside them. As Iwaki watched, their eyes became even more maddened, all semblance of sanity obviously vanishing as they turned on each other, ripping, biting and tearing at flesh.

Iwaki swallowed against the bile that rose in his chest at this sight, the smell making him nauseous. He turned his head away, unable to look at the bloody sight. What was making them behaviour like this? So violent, so cruel.

Suddenly he felt a stab of pain through his mind and cried out in shock, hands reaching up to grab his temples. He felt the air pulse around him as the wave now reached him, seeming to seep into his very pores. His body went rigid, eyes wide, staring and yet unseeing, mouth still open but unable to make any sound. Images crashed through his mind, pain tore at his heart, nerves screamed in agony. A darkness seemed to swirl into his mind, devouring everything, twisting, distorting. Baser desires came to the fore, basic instincts ruled him. His previous pain, his despair, all began to be forced into his need for revenge, to destroy what he deemed to be the cause of his troubles.

An image of Katou came into his mind accompanied with a pulse of ‘destroy’ but he jerked at that, hands automatically thrown up as though to try and push that thought away. No, not Katou, he yelled defiance. Katou’s features faded and was replaced with Tohma Seguchi’s. When the pulse of ‘destroy’ came, this time Iwaki didn’t deny it.

Pain lanced through his mind again and Iwaki screamed once more, throwing his head back, body jerking. Suddenly it was as though he was flung backwards, and he landed with a hard thump on the ground. He felt grass now beneath him and blinked at the sunlight around him. He was back where he had begun.

The portal still pulsed before him, having spat him out. That was fortunate. He got to his knees, brushing himself down a little. He needed to get out of here, then paused and watched as the swirling vortex seemed to suck inwards for a moment and then something began to push forward. He took a step backwards, staring, ready to run if need be. He had no idea of what was about to breach this power circle and enter his world.

The object continued to reach out, the vortex seeming to act like viscous fluid, clinging to it as though trying to draw it back. Now Iwaki could see that it appeared to be an arm; an arm encased in what looked like some type of smooth red armour that appeared to be moulded to the exact contours of the limb, the fingers like long talons. It stretched forward, and clenched in those tapered fingers was a long cord hanging downwards, at the end from which a large red oval shape spun.

The arm continued to push forward and Iwaki could almost see the strain it was under. He took a step forward, half reaching out as though to assist before common sense made him drop his hand. It wasn’t his place to do that.

Suddenly the arm jerked as though the body it was connected to had been struck. The vortex spun tighter around that protuberance, tightening around it and slowly dragging it back. The hand clenched into a fist and then flung open, the pendent sent spinning outwards away from the portal. Iwaki could have sworn then that he heard a scream, an almost animalistic scream of pure rage before the armoured arm was dragged, obviously unwillingly, back into the portal until there was no further sign of it.

A glint of sunlight on an object made Iwaki glance down and cross to pick up what had been dropped, before looking back at the portal. Now he could see fiery red trails streaking the surface, slowly widening and the centre now began to push outwards like a large bubble was being blown. This didn’t look good at all.

Taking heed of the warning signs Iwaki sprinted up the slope, back the way he had come. He felt the rumble begin once more under his feet, felt the earth lurch and he threw himself to the ground, covering his head with his arms just as there was a loud explosion behind.

He felt the clods of earth rain down upon his back, the flash of heated air that rushed over his prone body. His stomach churned as his senses were confused by the swaying ground, making him unable to tell up from down for a moment. Finally things settled down and Iwaki raised himself to his elbows to look over his shoulder viewing the devastation that was left. Of the portal there was no sign, apart from the seared ground around the small crater and the few tiny fires that still burned, sending up a plume of thick black smoke.

He stood, brushing himself down before turning and heading back to the car. He didn’t really want to be here when the authorities came to investigate, he certainly didn’t need to be in the eye of the media at this time. He sat behind the wheel and now looked at the object in his hand.

He had thought at first it would be nothing more than a large stone but upon closer scrutiny he saw that there appeared to be nodules or imperfections on it. It also was quite warm to his touch, although that could have been due to the close proximity to the blast.

As he examined it suddenly the nodules open staring at him with what could only be eyes. He let out a cry of surprise and fear, trying to throw it away but for some reason he couldn’t release his hold on it. His eyes were caught by the thing’s alien gaze, freezing him in place. He was unable to move at all although his mind was crying out that he was in extreme danger.

Now he heard something, a sibilant whisper in the back of his mind gradually growing louder. He wanted to shake his head to make it stop but couldn’t do so. Still he tried to fight against it mentally, tried to ignore it. Concentrate on other things, he told himself. Katou, think about Katou; but that thought immediately brought to the surface all the hurt and anger he was feeling over the current events with his lover.

The intruding voice was louder now, over riding Iwaki’s own thoughts as they weakened before the onslaught. It latched onto each negative thought Iwaki was having, twisting the emotions attached to it.

Power; I can give you power, it promised, curling through Iwaki’s consciousness. I will give you everything to get what you desire. I will give you your revenge!

Re…venge….? Iwaki’s mind sluggishly tried to form the words. Why….who…..yes, and a burst of fury rose to the surface. Seguchi, his mind focussed on. He would bring the entertainment world to its knees and ruin Seguchi. He would destroy that man and the world with it!

The inner voice dwindled to a soft murmur once more in the back of his mind as Iwaki started the engine and headed back to the city. The smile on his face was not one that anyone would have recognised, certainly not Katou.

It wasn’t a pleasant smile at all.

TBC

The cast of characters introduced here:

Tohma Seguchi is from Gravitation
Kyuzo is from Samurai 7
Iwaki and Katou are from Haru wo Daiteita/Embracing Love
Kougaiji and Dokugakuji are from Saiyuki
The red arm in the portal was Griffith from Beserk after he turns into Femto, and the red pendent is the Behelit.

Kaleidoscope Dimensions - Chapter 1a

2008-02-10T12:11:28Z

Right, here's the first chapter of Kaleidoscope Dimensions. It was too big to fit in one post so it's been split into Chapter 1a and 1b.

Name: Kaleidoscope Dimensions
Author: Despina and Jadeheart
Fandom: Thousands – a crack!fic of unreal proportions
Rating: R – references to sexual situations
Words: No idea!
Summary: The effects of the twisted dimensions begin to show.

Chapter 1a

Tohma Seguchi stood at the full length window which stretched from floor to ceiling. Outside he could view the city of Tokyo sprawling out before him from this lofty height.

He reached out and placed one hand flat against the glass. From this position it looked like he could hold all those buildings and beyond in the palm of his hand if he just closed his fingers. An illusion certainly, and yet there was some truth in it.

It had taken some years, and much dedication and hard work, but he had succeeded in making NG Productions the most successful company in Japan, and a leading force around the rest of the world. He had expanded the business into many different areas, mostly still in the entertainment industry, using NG Productions as a basis to build many other subsidiary companies, a number through the purchase of shares and other marketing strategies.

Tohma had learnt long ago that to be successful you didn’t always have to be the focus of attention. Power often came from working behind the scenes and he had used this knowledge to his advantage. Now NG Productions had a holding concern in many of the most influential companies and businesses, not just in Japan but also in many overseas organisations and Tohma Seguchi was considered a more than worthy man to control these, and very powerful.

However, for all these changes, NG Productions itself was still first and foremost a music company and this was still Tohma’s main passion. No matter what other industries he became involved in, no matter how successful he was in them, music was still his greatest love, although he admitted that he liked having the power to incorporate that love of music into other entertainment areas such as having controlling concerns in radio, television and film. Having the ability to almost foist his great love onto the masses of the world seemed a worthy goal.

He saw his reflection smile back at him. Yes, he guessed you really couldn’t take the musician out of the business man after all.

“Master,” A quiet voice said from somewhere behind him.

He didn’t start although he knew that previously he had been alone and he hadn’t heard anyone enter.

“It’s time,” the person stated.

“Thank you,” he said, turning away from his contemplation of the world.

He gazed at his bodyguard in his familiar red coat, sword hilts protruding above shoulder and beside thigh. The shock of blond hair always seemed surprising, even after all this time. Tohma often wondered if it had ever had even a nodding acquaintance with a comb in its life.

Tohma smiled at his subordinate. “Is everything ready?” he asked, making his way towards the door, only pausing to gather coat and hat.

“Yes,”

Ah, ever concise, Tohma thought fondly. That is what he liked about Kyuzo – he was not one to waste words and he was very capable in everything he did. In other words, a perfect subordinate according to Tohma Seguchi.

He strode out of his office, Kyuzo shadowing his footsteps, towards the lift at the end of the corridor. They didn’t speak on the rapid descent and when the doors swished open Tohma waited as Kyuzo exited first, alert grey eyes flicking over the area to ascertain the safety and then stepping aside so Tohma could leave.

Tohma didn’t try and hurry this routine. He could still recall the scathing look that had been given him the first time he had stepped out before his bodyguard, just after accepting this man for that role. He had been more than a little amused at receiving such a silent dressing down. There were few people in this world that would even dare to do so to him. However that look had said it all, although Kyuzo hadn’t uttered a word but Tohma hadn’t needed an interpreter. So since that time he had held back and allowed his bodyguard to do his job as hired. They had got along just fine since then.

Kyuzo strode rapidly towards the waiting car, unlocking it and holding the door open and ready for when Tohma reached it. Even as he slid into the back seat, Kyuzo was still constantly scanning the area with that hard gaze, searching for any potential threats.

Once Tohma was settled, the door was closed firmly and the red coated man slipped smoothly behind the wheel, starting the engine and making their way to the exit.

Tohma didn’t try and make conversation during the trip. To begin with, he really had nothing much to say. Secondly, his bodyguard was a man of few words at the very best of times so conversations tended to be short and concise and rather monosyllabic. So Tohma didn’t waste either of their time with idle chatter.

Instead he used this time to review what he hoped to gain from this excursion. He had decided a while ago that NG Productions required a new lease of life, more in keeping with its position as a competitor on the international market. It now signed a number of artists across the world, a good combination of Japanese bands wishing to break into the western markets and vice versa. The world had truly become an international melting pot and far smaller than once it had been.

However what he wanted now was a ‘face’ for NG Production, someone instantly recognisable and linked directly with his Company. Someone who would attract people, draw them in, so even if they hadn’t known of NG Productions before it would entice them to want to learn. For that he needed a ‘face’ to be the bait - and the public was his prey.

NG Productions had always had a ‘face’ previously. He had been in that position prior which had only been right as he was well known from his days in Nittle Grasper as well as being the founder of the company. So he had put his fame to good use in those early days and continued to maintain that image. Of course, the other way of promoting NG Productions was through the various bands such as Bad Luck which people then associated with the company but NG Productions still needed a front man to bring people to them.

So although he had been happy to be that prior, it was time to move on. Over the years he had been distancing himself from the general day-to-day business promotions and retaining himself more for the high corporate roles as befitted his age and position. As the President of his fast growing empire it was no longer suitable for him to be seen as a ‘poster boy’ for the Company. He had a reputation to maintain, and one that had been hard earnt. So in looking for the new ‘face’ of NG Productions, he had to choose carefully as whomever he picked would in fact be replacing him. Not that he really believed anyone actually could, but he hoped to find someone who could at least come close to doing so.

He knew that many people had expected him to place Ryuichi Sakuma in that role, but his friend was more than busy with his own career and didn’t need to limit himself by tying himself once more to Tohma Seguchi. He knew that and hadn’t insulted Ryu by even asking. So not just anyone would do for what he wanted. It had to be someone special – with special talents and abilities, and above all someone who the public would know, recognise and want to follow. Also someone who would appeal to many different people from many walks of life, both in Japan as well as internationally. It was quite a tall order to fill.

Tohma had considered and discarded many possibilities from all countries over some time now. This had by no means been a hurried decision and he had ensured he had taken the time and care it required. After this long search he had found himself coming back to the same selection. Now, today he was going to discuss his proposition with those he considered would do his company justice.

“We’ve arrived,” Kyuzo stated, bringing him out of his reverie.

Tohma glanced out of the window at the quiet, well kept street in this upmarket neighbourhood. In the middle of the day like this there was little activity which suited him. He didn’t want anything to leak out at this stage to muddy the waters, not until the negotiations were complete.

Kyuzo parked and opened his door, waiting for Tohma to exit and closing it once he had alighted, before following closely behind as Tohma walked up the path towards the front door to ring the bell.

They only had to wait for a couple of heartbeats when the door was opened by a tall dark haired man. He gazed steadily at them, dark eyes roaming over first Tohma and then Kyuzo standing behind.

Tohma smiled and held out his card, with a slight incline of his head. “Good morning,” he said. “I am sorry to trouble you during your day off.”

His card was accepted, scanned quickly and then those brooding dark eyes returned to Tohma’s.

“You are most welcome,” the man said, stepping aside and waving them forward. “Please come in.”

“Thank you,” Tohma replied, stepping forward. He toed his shoes off, automatically slipping into the slippers provided. Kyuzo struggled a little longer with his boots but soon was also acceptable.

“Please, come this way,” their host indicated and they followed him down the passageway and turned into what was obviously the lounge room. There another man had been seated on the couch, who now stood at their entry.

“Welcome!” was the exuberant greeting, coupled with a broad smile. One hand came up to brush back the long fringe of blond hair that fell over blue eyes. The man strode forward and held out his hand to Tohma who shook it with a polite smile in return. Kyuzo’s brow crinkled slightly as he gazed at the hand thrust towards him but after a brief hesitation also accepted the handshake before retreating unobtrusively, leaving Tohma to carry on his business.

“I’m Youji Katou,” the blond man introduced himself, then waved Tohma towards a couch. “Please be seated.”

Tohma did so and saw Katou glance towards where Kyuzo still stood. “There is no need to worry,” he said with a small smile as Katou turned to face him. “My bodyguard is quite content to remain where he is.”

“Oh,” Katou threw another brief glance at Kyuzo then with a small shrug reseated himself on the couch opposite Tohma.

At the same time the other man returned to the room after quietly leaving earlier whilst Katou had introduced himself. He placed the tray he was carrying holding tea pot and cups gracefully on the table between Katou and Tohma, not spilling a drop, then straightened. He was tall, far taller than Tohma and held himself with a perfect posture.

“I am Kyosuke Iwaki,” the man said clearly, bowing respectfully.

Tohma saw Katou roll his eyes a little, obviously not quite agreeing with his partner’s subservient manner but not saying anything.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” Tohma said as Iwaki straightened and sat beside Katou. “I am conscious of how busy you both are and appreciate that you have taken the time to do so.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Iwaki said politely.

“Besides,” Katou said, leaning forward and tilting his head to the side with a grin. “Curiousity got the better of us. We wanted to find out why the great Tohma Seguchi would want to see us!”

“Katou!” Iwaki chastised, closing his eyes as though pained by his partner’s straightforwardness.

Tohma chuckled, sitting back and steepling his hands. “I understand,” he said, returning Katou’s smile and including Iwaki as well.

Iwaki leant forward and poured tea for them all. “So what does bring you here?” he asked, placing a cup before Tohma.

“Very well, I will get straight to the point,” Tohma said, picking up the cup and sipping carefully. “I have, for some time, been looking for a new ‘face’ for NG Productions, someone who the public will immediately recognise, or if not, be immediately attracted to. In other words, a publicity figure. A very prominent publicity figure.”

“And you think we could be that figure?” Iwaki asked quietly.

“One of you,” Tohma said, taking another sip.

“Who?” Katou queried.

Now Tohma wondered. He had initially thought that Iwaki would be his choice. That calm steady gaze, those dark eyes that held a hidden fire and seductiveness that no-one, male or female, could fail to see, and respond to. He was dignified, refined, a perfect Adonis. In all things, Tohma had thought he was the best choice.

However, now he couldn’t help but turn his attention to Katou, the vibrant blond, exuberant, obviously rash, with laughing blue eyes and a smile that made you want to melt. Tohma was beginning to think he could do the job very well also.

Let’s test the waters a little, Tohma thought to himself, hiding his smile. He placed his cup back on the table and spoke, “I was wondering which of you would be interested to begin with.”

“Of course we’re both interested!” Katou immediately responded when Iwaki interrupted.

“It is a great honour that you have approached us on this matter but as you know both of us already have commitments that must be met. This would certainly limit the time we would be able to spend on other projects.”

“I am aware of that,” Tohma replied calmly. “I am certain that we could work out a satisfactory schedule to accommodate such matters. In fact, as the music industry is not that far distant from the acting world there would most likely be ways of combining the two which would reduce the time needed to be spent. I am sure that there would be few difficulties.” Especially as Tohma had already been making discrete arrangements behind the scenes due to his influence now in many of the entertainment areas.

“See?” Katou said, looking at his partner. “No problem.”

Iwaki closed his eyes briefly, not looking at Katou but returning that steady gaze to Tohma. “Are you not concerned that our past….work may reflect unfavourably upon your business? The music industry touches upon all members of the public, including young people. You don’t believe that there would be some anger raised against you for choosing us to represent you.”

“I am fully aware of your past,” Tohma said. “I don’t think there are many people in Japan who do not and, for most, they have come not to particularly care. As you said, it is in the past. I am choosing you based on the present.”

“Don’t mind Iwaki,” Katou put in then with a smile, leaning back on the couch, one arm extended across the back behind Iwaki. “No matter how often I tell him the same thing, he’s always worried about what people might think.”

“That is not a bad trait to have,” Tohma said, not wishing Iwaki to think he was belittling him in any way.

“Oh, I agree. It’s one of the many things I love about him.” Katou grinned.

“Katou!” Iwaki’s angry response greeted that remark and the glare he turned on his partner showed his ire. Tohma also couldn’t help notice the slight flush on the normally serene face. Who would have thought the calm Iwaki could be flustered so easily.

“Sorry, sorry!” Katou apologised, holding up a hand and smiling at his lover. “I won’t say anything more I promise.”

“Humph!” Iwaki simply huffed, turning his head away from his partner with a flick of his dark hair. Tohma held back his smile.

“So which of us did you want?” Katou asked, returning his gaze back to Tohma.

Tohma rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. “I have been having to carefully consider the type of image that I wish to portray for NG Productions as it will be not just for Japan but also across the world.”

“Won’t the person you chose simply be an advertisement for your Company?” Iwaki asked evenly.

“To a certain extent, yes,” Tohma agreed. “There will be some limited promotional work in the way of interviews but mainly it is the use of your face that we would be seeking.”

“Then we will have to regretfully decline,” Iwaki stated. “Katou and I have both worked hard to be considered as serious actors, in which I believe we have succeeded to a certain extent. We worked hard to go beyond where we started from in a field where many people shunned us. We have worked our way from the bottom to be recognised, taking on the jobs necessary to do this which included advertisements. It was required at the time and we are proud of that work which enabled us to grow further in our goals. At this stage in our careers however, to now return to simply being a ‘face’ for some Company, no matter what that Company is, would be taking a step backwards on our way to achieving more in our chosen profession.”

“Iwaki!” Katou exclaimed again, leaning forward and resting one hand on Iwaki’s shoulder. “What are you saying? This is NG Productions, not just some small Company that no-one has heard of!”

Iwaki didn’t look at him. “It matters not,” Iwaki continued, dropping his eyes. “It amounts to the same thing.”

“But…!”

Iwaki now did turn his head to look at Katou. “Are you being swayed by the prestige of this Company?” he asked, staring into his partner’s eyes. “Are you being blinded by the simple promise of wealth and recognition? Do you want to give up all that you have struggled for up to this point?”

“I don’t believe it is giving it up!” Katou said fiercely. “This is no different to promoting ourselves in other ways for our films and TV series!”

“Are you willing to sell yourself so cheaply?” Iwaki said, a touch of anger entering his voice. “Can’t you see that this isn’t about promoting yourself and your achievements?! You are being used to promote them!”

Tohma sighed internally. This isn’t going well. He had heard that Iwaki could be quite proud but he had dealt with many people in all areas of show business and hadn’t thought he would have this much trouble. He couldn’t help but admire Iwaki’s steadfast determination to hold onto his pride in his work and his willingness to hold fast to his beliefs. In truth, Tohma truly had wanted Iwaki for this task. He thought he could achieve so much more with Iwaki in the role, that he would be perfect to capture a far greater market of the world. Well, there were more ways to get what he wanted than by the most direct means.

He cast his gaze to Katou. He had originally dismissed Katou as his first choice due to his more boyish mannerisms. Certainly he was breathtakingly beautiful and would appeal to the female masses, but he had his doubts as to how far he could make that work for the male market as well. That was where Iwaki’s more mature and refined looks could be made to attract men as well; attract them by making them want to be just like Iwaki. Katou he hadn’t felt could pull that off as easily.

However, Katou was showing some interest at least and if he had Katou there was every chance that he could get Iwaki later on. In all the careful research he had done on these two he had found that neither remained far from the other eventually. Yes, that could work very nicely for him, and for NG Productions.

Having made his decision Tohma finally spoke up. “Katou, you had wanted to know who I had chosen,” He turned his smooth business smile upon Katou as he looked up to meet his eyes. Tohma also noticed the way Iwaki frowned slightly as he too looked up. Could Iwaki see through his front? If that was the case, he would be one of the few people who could. How curious. It just made Tohma want this man in his employ even more.

“I have chosen you, Youji Katou.” he stated, maintaining the smile. He saw Katou’s mouth fall open, his eyes wide in shock.

“Me?” Katou pointed at his chest.

Now to reel him in, Tohma thought.

“I believe you have the youth and enthusiasm that will appeal to many people. It will certainly attract the younger set and as NG Productions primarily deals with music aimed at the youth of the world this will be a great asset.”

Tohma leant forward, locking his gaze with Katou’s, holding that blue gaze captive. He ignored the dark look Iwaki was giving him. Oh, yes, Iwaki knew something was going on but he was not so worldly-wise yet in this business to know exactly what. In time Tohma would teach him so he didn’t get blind-sided like this again. In time.

“Of course, at the beginning the pressures on your time will be quite intensive. I know you have other commitments and as I stated, we can certainly work around those, but to start with any moment of spare time you have will need to be devoted to me. Do you have that kind of dedication to your job?”

“Yes!”

“If you don’t you need to say now,” Tohma continued as though Katou hadn’t spoken. “I have no time for wastrels. I expect one hundred percent performance from all my people, at all times. If you are unable to give that, then I have no need of you.”

“I can do it!” Katou exclaimed, leaning right forward, the hand leaving Iwaki’s shoulder to rest on the table as he gazed earnestly at Tohma.

Tohma saw Iwaki lean back, crossing his arms across his chest and closing his eyes, head dropping a little. So he knows that he’s lost, Tohma thought and couldn’t prevent the smile that crossed his features this time. He always loved the feeling of winning.

“Very well,” he said, returning his full attention to Katou. “Please come with me now to the office so we can finalise the details and set out the contract requirements. I presume you have a legal advisor?”

“Yes. I can contact him today.”

“Good. I would like to have this completed today if possible so we can begin work immediately. There is a great deal to be done.”

“Oh, but…” A look of consternation crossed Katou’s face then as he glanced over his shoulder to Iwaki sitting behind him.

Iwaki suddenly stood, not looking down at Katou. “I will take my leave now,” he said, politely inclining his head towards Tohma but this time forgoing the respectful bow he had given previously. That alone spoke volumes of what he was feeling, even if his face and voice remained polite to the extreme. “There are many things that require my attention also.” With that he turned and exited the room, brushing past Kyuozo without a glance.

“Iwaki….” Katou began, reaching out with one hand and half rising as though to follow.

“Katou,” Tohma said quietly, effectively drawing Katou’s attention back to him. “Would you accompany me now please? Let us begin immediately.”

“But…” Katou’s eyes returned to the doorway that Iwaki had exited through.

“Are you serious about this or not? Are you truly a professional?” Tohma asked, a touch of steel in his voice.

Katou’s head spun back round to face Tohma and his blue eyes flashed at the implied insult. “Yes!” He glanced once more at the door and then his face settled into a look of determination as he stood. “As you said, let’s begin immediately.”

Tohma stood also, smiling with satisfaction. “Very good.”

Tohma walked towards the car, following Kyuzo who held the door open for him to enter. He glanced back to see Katou hesitate a moment as he closed the front door and wondered if the young man would change his mind even at this late stage, but Katou then turned and walked towards them, sliding into the back seat beside him.

“Welcome to NG Productions,” Tohma said quietly.

“Thank you,” Katou responded automatically, although his gaze was fixed out the window and Tohma could guess that he was thinking more of his dark haired partner than the upcoming work.

Tohma settled back in the seat as Kyuzo navigated the traffic on their return to the office. Don’t worry, Katou, he thought, trying hard to control the almost smug inner tone. Sooner or later I’ll have Iwaki as well - and you will be the bait.

-oOo-

“Are you certain about this?” Tohma asked as he opened the door and stepped to one side to allow the person with him to enter first.

“Yes,” Katou said evenly, striding forward, toeing his loafers off and then continuing forward. Tohma followed, stopping slightly behind him as Katou surveyed the small lounge room.

“It’s not quite as grand as you are accustomed to,” Tohma stated. “We could look for something larger.”

“It’s fine,” Katou replied, leaving that room and opening the door to the bedroom, before going further to the bathroom. “It’s not like I need a great deal of room. I’ll be living on my own and I’ll be pretty busy so I won’t be spending that much time here.”

Tohma stayed silent although he chewed thoughtfully at his bottom lip before realising what he was doing and ceasing the act. He had to admit that he had been caught by surprise at this turn of events. Since ensnaring Katou as the new ‘face’ of NG Productions he had felt for certain that Iwaki’s capitulation would follow shortly after. He had been certain to flaunt his success over Iwaki as much as was politely possible, believing the man would rise to the challenge of winning back his lover and choosing to be by his side rather than let him walk alone. Tohma had been positive that is how things would go. He had even gone so far as to blatantly insinuate to Iwaki that his interest in Katou went far beyond just a business commodity. After all, Katou was a virile young man in his prime, with good looks and a perfect body. It wasn’t that hard to believe that Tohma’s interest would extend to that. He had been sure that would have made Iwaki’s protective streak rise up to counter the threat to his lover’s chastity.

However, instead of Iwaki confronting him and demanding that he leave Katou alone, to which Tohma had intended to give the ultimatum that he would do so if Iwaki worked for him also which had been his whole aim from the start. No, instead Katou had walked out of the home that he and Iwaki had shared for the past three years, arriving in Tohma’s office with eyes too bright that denoted unshed tears and begging for assistance to find a suitable apartment right that minute. And on top of that, Kyosuke Iwaki appeared to be making no moves to coax his lover back.

“I’ll arrange for a removalist to assist you,” Tohma said, breaking the silence.

“Thank you,” Katou said, turning and walking back to the lounge room again. “There won’t be a great deal. If you don’t mind I’ll go out this afternoon and purchase some furniture immediately.”

“Don’t you want to wait until you things arrive before doing so?”

Katou cast a sad look in his direction. “Everything is Iwaki’s,” he said softly. “I’ll need to get my own things now.”

“I see,” There was really nothing else he could say. “Very well. I will leave you to attend to things today and will see you tomorrow at the office.”

“I’ll be there,” Katou confirmed as he walked Tohma to the door.

As the door closed behind him, Tohma couldn’t help look back once. He frowned now as he turned to make his way to the car. Damn it, this wasn’t what was supposed to have happened.

He slid into the back of the vehicle and tapped one finger against his lips, still lost in thought.

“This is unexpected, no?”

The quiet voice didn’t startle him and he answered abstractedly, “Very.” He raised his eyes to meet those of Kyuzo in the rear vision mirror. “I hadn’t anticipated this turn of events at all. I will have to think about this a little more.”

“If you stir emotions, people tend to act irrationally,” was Kyuzo’s reply as he expertly navigated the heavy traffic. “That makes them unpredictable.”

Tohma looked at the shock of blond hair that he could see from the back. “Are you saying that I misjudged the situation?”

Kyuzo didn’t reply at first and Tohma wondered if he would. The man maintained the required protocols of master and servant to the extreme, and implying any type of criticism of his master’s actions would go strongly against that. However, if Kyuzo felt strongly enough about something he also wasn’t one to not speak up.

“You have tried to separate two people who are driven by the emotions they have for each other,” Kyuzo finally said slowly. “Such emotions can be both constructive and destructive. It would be wise for you to look at means of mending such disturbance or you may find yourself with a dangerous enemy.”

“Enemy?” Tohma gave a small smile at what he felt was his bodyguard’s over-estimation of the situation. “I doubt I’ll have too much to fear from Kyosuke Iwaki.” Then he frowned again. “Though I will admit that I am a little unsettled by his behaviour.” Tohma ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Somehow this reminds me a little too much of another difficult couple.”

Kyuzo remained silent, obviously having said all that he intended to. Tohma watched as they pulled into the parking lot for NG Productions. As he stepped out of the car and gazed up at his building he felt a shiver run down his spine. Why was he getting a sudden feeling of foreboding?

TBC in Chapter 1b

The cast of characters introduced here:

Tohma Seguchi is from Gravitation
Kyuzo is from Samurai 7
Iwaki and Katou are from Haru wo Daiteita/Embracing Love
Kougaiji and Dokugakuji are from Saiyuki
The red arm in the portal was Griffith from Beserk after he turns into Femto, and the red pendent is the Behelit.

Saiyuki Fiction

2008-02-07T03:19:59Z

Title: Hearts Afire
Author: despina_moon
Fandom: Saiyuki Hakkai/Gojyo
Disclaimer: Definitely not mine
Word count: 7,672
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Smut. Follow up to Twisting Desire
Beta: The lovely and patient, imayb1

Summary – Hakkai struggles emotionally with what Gojyo means to him in light of their previous tryst. Gojyo has had enough of Hakkai’s angst.

Hearts Afire

Kaleidoscope Dimensions

2008-02-04T17:36:24Z

Name: Kaleidoscope Dimensions
Author: Despina and Jadeheart
Fandom: Thousands – a crack!fic of unreal proportions
Rating: R – swearing, references to sexual situations
Words: 4652
Summary: What happens when a God wants a wish granted? All kinds of chaos…

Yourichi rolled onto her stomach, raising herself to her feet and then she stretched. Her rear-end high in the air and her claws digging into the expensive carpet. She yawned and then pulled herself forward, her back legs low and straight feeling her muscles flex and lengthen. Nothing beat a good stretch, especially after a night of wild sex and a nap. She sat down, her tail twitching lazily behind her while she yawned again, slowly blinking her greenish-gold eyes.

Yūko wasn’t in the room. Yourichi would have liked to have another passionate few minutes with her long-limbed and very expressive lover. She licked her lips dreamily, relishing the aftertaste of Yūko’s sour-honey flavor and wishing to partake again. She would have preferred waking up that way. Maybe during their next lovemaking session they could partake of a sixty-nine. As always, Yourichi shivered with thoughts of the elegant, yet sinful Yūko in wanton abandonment. Yourichi was one of a select few to witness a woman who wielded so much power with her hair disheveled, face flushed, and full lips parted as breathy moans fell from them.

She shook her head, ears twitching, coming fully awake and out of her reverie. There was a strange feel to the house. Well, stranger than normal, anyway. Was it spirit pressure? Yes, and a lot of it. Yourichi stood up; now completely alert, her tail twisting above her with curiosity mixed with a smattering of concern while she made her way down the hall. The house suddenly shook and Yourichi dodged a painting when it fell from the wall. From other rooms in Yūko’s house she heard destruction, shattering glass and solid sounds of wood striking wood. Yourichi’s steps quickened but she didn’t quite run. What was that woman up to now? Who had Yūko bamboozled into selling their soul, heart or love of their life, today?

Time Witch. Yūko Ichihara was a cold and calculating businessperson who appreciated granting a good, difficult wish, but she could also be a little careless from time to time. Yourichi loved the woman with all of her heart, but that didn’t change what Yūko was. The house rocked again but this time with considerable more force. What was that crazy bitch up to now? Did Yūko finally bite off more than she could chew?

Yourichi stopped and stared at the closed door to the wish room, feeling the enormous amount of spirit pressure emanating from within. Something very intense was happening on the other side. She stared at her claws, realizing she would have to transform if she wanted to open the door. She stretched again, coppery-colored skin replacing her black fur, fingers and toes replacing her claws. She stood up and then gazed down. Hmm. She probably should have transformed back in her room where she could have dressed, but then again, she was never one to let a little nudity bother her.

Unsure of what waited for her on the other side, she quickly opened the door and dove inside. Yūko lie on the floor, her head cradled in a frightened Watanuki’s lap. There was a glow in the center of the room, light streaming from the runes carved in the floor. A man stood in the center of the pentagram, his wrists bound together with a long chain and his eyes remained centered on the vision of a flower-filled field.

Yourichi took a step forward towards her unconscious lover and a man with an eye patch and a gun materialized in her path. “I cannot allow you to interfere.”

She paused, trying to ignore Eye-patch but feeling her muscles coil in readiness. Yourichi assessed Yūko’s condition, seeing her steady breathing. She gazed at Watanuki. “How is she?”

“I think she’s okay,” he answered, his voice was shaky with fear. He glared at the man. “He hit her with his gun and knocked her down.”

Yūko stirred; sitting up very slowly she daintily pushed blood-soaked and matted hair out of her eyes. Yourichi marveled at how, even with circumstances being what they were and with blood trickling down her face, Yūko remained in control and held on to a semblance of command. “Yourichi, I will live. Please do behave and do not get yourself killed.”

Yourichi was relieved; she didn’t think Eye-patch carried an ordinary gun and fighting him might get them all killed. She was a combat veteran of the Soul Society, cunning and ruthless in battle but even she would hesitate if she had to fight such a powerful being. She chewed on her lip considering the possibly that he might be a god. If so, Yūko would have a difficult time. The fact that gods cheated was a universally well-known truth.

“Homura,” Eye-patch tipped his head to one side as if he was listening and a slight smile graced his lips. “They’re coming.”

Yourichi strained her ears and she heard the roar of a motor just before a squealing jeep crashed through a wall. She didn’t have time to contemplate the jeep or the fact that it broke into the Time Witch’s inner sanctum, something that ought to be impossible. What she did concentrate on were the four people in the vehicle, they were brimming with spirit pressure. She took a step back; this would be one hell of a fight.

“Homura!” A passenger in the back of the jeep yelled.

The man with his wrists shackled turned with unhurried movements. His speech was low and even when he said, “Ah, Goku, good. I see punctuality is still your forte. You’re right on time.”

“Shut up, assface! I’m about to give you a beat down of a life time!” The one named Goku responded with a snarl. A long, red staff materialized in his right hand and he launched himself directly at Homura from the back of the jeep.

Yourichi was momentarily startled, was the weapon a Zanbatou? No, she didn’t feel any separate sentience from the red staff, but it was magical, she was certain of that.

“I’m afraid I can’t play right now, Goku.” Homura waved his hand and Goku froze, suspended in midair. “Right now I need your power to help me.”

Yourichi nodded. So, Homura was a god. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this particular god. He had hurt Yūko, and that did not leave him in good standing as far as Yourichi was concerned.

A golden-haired monk was the last to leave the jeep, on the heels of a man in green and a tall redhead. She focused; the last two weren’t human, not completely, anyway. The monk threw down the remains of a cigarette, glared at everyone in the room, and pulled out a nasty looking handgun. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Stop!” Yūko shouted, staggering to her feet. Blood still flowed freely down the right side of her face. “If you do this, Homura, the universe will change.”

He turned towards Yūko, one eye golden and one a startling teal color, his face etched with a sadness Yourichi could not fathom. Homura smiled, but there was no humor or joy in his expression. “I know, and that is precisely why I will do it.”

“Homura,” the dark-haired man in green spoke, his voice was soft and reasoning. “You cannot want this.”

“On the contrary, Field Marshall Tenpou, the total destruction of the heavens is absolutely my wish.” He gazed pointedly at Yūko. “My payment has already been made. Goku’s presence makes the possibility complete.” He waved his hand again and Goku lay at his feet, bound up tightly. Homura bent over, removed Goku’s gold coronet, and stepped back.

“Shit!” One of the remaining three from the jeep shouted, Yourichi thought it might be the redhead.

“You’ll change everything,” Yūko said, her eyes, like Yourichi’s, remained glued to Goku’s screaming, morphing form. “Not just the heavens, but all of the worlds throughout all dimensions will change also. Your wish is not possible, Homura.”

Great, Yourichi thought while she watched the man change into a snarling beast and power crackled around him, another god. And to top it off, this one looks like a homicidal maniac.

Homura tipped his head towards Goku. “With divine intervention, my wish is possible.” The room brightened. “I will show you.”

“The wish will not be what you expect. That is the nature of wishes, they are unpredictable at best.” Yourichi heard herself speak, an uncharacteristic edge of hysteria to her voice. Then she struck the man in front of her, knocking him to the ground but, inexplicably, not unconscious.

She heard Eye-patch chuckle. “Well done. I wish we had time to fight in earnest. I’ve heard much of your skill and apparently, the rumors were true.” He stood up and smiled at her.

“Whoa, watch yourself, honey. These guys play for keeps and one is still unaccounted for,” the tall redhead with a messy looking weapon said, stepping in front of her. He looked over his shoulder, openly ogling her body before he winked. “Although I like your idea of trying to confuse them with nudity.”

Yourichi didn’t have time for him, so she punched him in his kidney. Her blow was enough to drop him to the floor, but not enough to leave any lasting damage. She stepped over his moaning, writhing body, noticing his weapon disappeared when he dropped. Hmm. Interesting beings, whoever they were. Her attention focused on Homura again and she said, “Stop. Now.”

He shook his head. “I will not. I would think you would approve, Yourichi, but I’ve been perplexed by opinions in the past. Isn’t that correct, Konzen?” He looked pointedly at the monk.

Yourichi found she was unsurprised when he used her name. He was very powerful. Everyone in the room was powerful. She stared at the growing cacophony of colors twisting in the room’s center. Homura’s wish was taking life, forming through energy tapped from the snarling, berserk god still bound, and from himself, coming to life with whatever he had sacrificed. This was bad.

“What was your payment to Yūko?” Yourichi managed to ask.

Blue and gold eyes stared at her. “My life, the lives of my companions, and the remains of my one true love are my payment. A suitable bargain if I can remake Heaven and Earth, wouldn’t you say?”

“You’re doing this for revenge?”

“Yes.” He smiled again. “I see you understand.”

“I… don’t.” Yourichi lied. She did understand, in a way.

The room pulsed, the walls bulging with spirit pressure and old, forgotten, and scary magic.

Then, the monk began to chant and Yourichi felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The walls seemed to breathe with the dueling spirit pressure in the room. Gossamer wisps of color lifted from the floor and began to circle Homura and his gun-carrying companion.

Along side her, Field Marshall Tenpou helped the redhead to his feet. “You’ll never learn, will you, Gojyo?”

“I know, but… ‘Kai,” Gojyo risked another sidelong glance at Yourichi and grinned, “she’s ultra hot!”

Yourichi rolled her eyes, but did not respond. Instead, she watched the column of colorful fog thicken. Tendrils reached out, curling towards the now-screaming and writhing demon on the floor.

“Goku!” The two men standing next to her called out in unison and the dark-haired one darted forward. He grabbed the demon’s foot pulling him away from the swirling cloud. Gojyo moved closer to help, pulling the demon clear of the malevolent fog.

“Hakkai, get your ass away from that!”

“Believe me,” the calm voice replied, “I would prefer to do as you say but I appear to be… stuck. This power is having its way with me. I hope you’ll forgive me, Gojyo.”

“Hakkai!”

Electricity arced from the ceiling and walls in a maelstrom, a growing tempest storm. The two spirit pressures connected and the following blast blew out another side of the wish room. It was the equivalent of an explosive decompression and the unfortunate Field Marshall Tenpou, was caught in the blast zone. He fell backwards into the swirling miasma of color and disappeared.

“Fuck! Hakkai!” Gojyo shouted and then did something that amazed Yourichi. He jumped through the blurring colors after his friend. At nearly the same moment, the jeep suddenly squealed and transformed into a small white dragon. The dragon immediately became airborne and flew into the filmy curtain, nearly colliding and shoulder-to-shoulder with Gojyo as they both disappeared.

Yourichi blinked. The fog was opaque, but it wasn’t a hole and it wasn’t a solid wall. She could still see outlines of Homura and Eyepatch on the other side of the churning, colorful mist. She studied the colors closer, and movement coalesced into a series of scenes. A man in a red coat with two swords fought some strange looking bi-pedal machines. The scene blurred and became a pair of lovers, both male, one with dark hair, and one blond, in the throes of intense lovemaking.

A hand caressing a thigh became fingers on a keyboard and stage lights brightened and focused on a smiling, cherubic-faced and hat-clad man. His cheering audience clearly adored him. Light fractured and split as spotlights aimed for mirrors above the stage and filled Yourichi’s ever-changing observations with stars.

She saw a speeding spaceship, painted red with an oversize gun attached to it tumble and twist through dust clouds and asteroids, inside she could see the grinning smirk of a pilot. The wings on the spaceship metamorphosed, lengthening and growing feathers while stars melted, turning into flames. She saw the summoner of the phoenix, a handsome, purple-eyed man stand off to the side. The Phoenix changed into a white wolf, and then into a man.

She had enough, shaking her head and forcing her eyes away. The motion-filled column reminded her of a lamp she had as a child. A painted scene on a lampshade set on a carousal that rotated around a central light bulb. The only difference between her lamp and this chaos was that the scenes changed constantly.

“Those useless, fucking morons!” The priest yelled, bringing Yourichi back to the present. “Leaving me to clean up the mess. I will kill them when I see them again.”

There was a quiet ‘poof’ and a golden-eyed goddess with a feathered robe appeared. She frowned and then turned to Yūko, completely ignoring Yourichi. “Why am I here, Witch? Why have you summoned me?”

Swell, Yourichi thought resisting the urge to roll her eyes, even more gods.

Yūko raised an eyebrow. “I know your anger with humans is all-consuming, Ceres, but what of Aya and Yūhi? What of Aya’s child? I know Toya has rejoined you, but do you not want to save your home? Your beloved heaven?”

Ceres pursed her lips and her golden eyes narrowed. “You assume much, Time Witch.”

Yūko stared at her.

“I will assist you.” Ceres finally answered. “For those I left behind, those I care for.”

Yūko turned to a handsome young man who had appeared as suddenly as Ceres had. Her voice was smooth but Yourichi detected near panic. “And what of you, Kamui? Do you no longer care for this world? Or for the people you sacrificed so much to save? What of those that still live after your epic battle? Do not be stubborn and foolish; this world, along with many others will perish. You must help me.”

He considered her for a moment then glanced at the still swirling mass growing in the centre of the room. Images still spun and twisted in its centre and Yourichi saw a frown cross his face as a tall red tower appeared briefly, followed by the face of a young man dressed in a uniform similar to that worn by this Kamui, although even Yourichi thought his face looked sad. Kamui turned his back swiftly on the sight, returning his gaze to Yuko and nodded agreement silently.

Immediately a soft, golden glow filled the room, radiating from the newcomers. The bright glimmer intensified when the two gods linked, and then again when Yūko’s power joined. The luminescence became a thick gold thread and it coiled around the expanding chaos. Yourichi’s hair filled with static electricity from the power the three strained to wield and contain.

The monk reached for the snarling, bound demon pulling him away from the path of colors. The demon, in spite of his restraints, lunged for the priest but a coronet reappeared on his head. Teeth and talons shortened, his pupils grew round and soft while the demon reverted to the young man named Goku. Gold eyes rolled up and he collapsed into the monk’s arm.

Yourichi glanced at the visions again. A man dressed in black, with a wide-brimmed black hat, tossed flashing knives. The silver melded together to form a mask which a long blond haired attractive man slowly placed on his face. The long hair lifted in the wind, streaming out behind and twisted into a talisman with what appeared to be a writhing dragon or serpent in the centre. The view swung back to show this talisman hanging around the neck of a dark haired youth wearing a red headband who held a glowing sphere of magic in one hand. As he raised his arm and released the sphere of power, he morphed and became Field Marshal Tenpou…There were too many scenes to take in at once.

The room rocked again and part of the ceiling disappeared, but a soothing golden color held the expanding hole in check. The two new people and Yūko strained, pushing their powers to the limit. The monk began to chant again, joining his power with the other three and finally, they overpowered chaos and the hole shrank small enough for Watanuki to snap a rune-covered box closed over the hovering form.

Ceres and Kamui disappeared as the lid slapped shut, trapping the anomaly inside. Everyone else remaining in the room collapsed to the floor and for several minutes, no one spoke. Finally, Watanuki, still clutching the glowing box asked, “Did they fix it?”

Yūko sat up and touched her bloody temple. “Not one hundred percent. The world has changed, but I don’t know how much. I suspect there might be long lasting repercussion from today.”

Watanuki swallowed. “What about Syaoran and Sakura?”

“What about our… companions?” The monk asked, still cradling the young man in his lap. He looked irritated and confused, and irritated about being confused.

Yūko shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

“I saw them in the cloud.” Yourichi said.

They all turned to gaze at her.

“They weren’t together. The redhead… Gojyo? He was with some very, very pale guy with scales and pointy ears. Field Marshal Tenpou was with a blondish-haired man who was wearing sunglasses, and a long, blue coat with white crosses on his sleeves. They seemed…” she coughed, remembering the passionate kiss the two men shared, “friendly.”

“You mean Hakkai?”

Yourichi frowned. “The first man pulled into the vortex. Brown hair, very polite?”

“Very polite until you know his habits.” He furrowed his brow. “He’s already found another… companion? That didn’t take long.”

“I suspect what Yourichi and the rest of us saw was distorted by time. The events we saw might be happening now or might be years into the future or past.”

“Are you saying they might never come back?” He asked, glowering at Yūko.

“Yes,” Yūko answered, her voice was solemn.

“It’s time to drink!” A high-pitched voice encouraged.

“Well, the meat bun survived,” Watanuki grumbled.

“Meat bun?” Goku mumbled sleepily in the priest’s arms. “Yum.”

Watanuki looked in the direction of the overly cute voice and suddenly, his mouth fell open. “At least I think Mokona survived.”

Yūko glanced in the same direction and nodded solemnly. Yourichi turned her head. Yūko had kept the ‘black’ Mokona and sent the ‘white’ Mokona with Sakura and Syaoran to aid them on their dimension-hoping journey. This Mokona, however, was striped, black and white like a zebra.

Yourichi’s stomach knotted. “What do Mokona’s changes mean, Yūko?”

“It means,” Yūko said as she stood, “the dimensions are bleeding into each other, or possibly, there are other ways to travel between worlds now. We will have to wait a bit to find out exactly what happened.”

Yourichi thought Yūko was entirely too quiet. The door opened and an out of breath Dōmeki stepped through.

Watanuki lept to his feet and jumped into his friend’s arms. “You’re all right! I was so worried.”

Dōmeki’s expression was one of complete surprise but he wrapped his arms around Watanuki and hugged him in return. “I’m all right? You’re the one inside the house under attack, idiot.”

“I know, but Yūko said the world we know might have changed.” Watanuki sighed into Dōmeki’s chest. “Like Mokona – I was worried you would be different.”

“I think the world did change, or at least you changed. Normally you wouldn’t hang on to me like this,” Dōmeki said with a chuckle. Then he added, “Hey, not that I mind, but you do realize there’s a room full of people watching us, don’t you?”

“Oh!” Watanuki pulled away, while blushing a deep shade of red.

Yūko smiled and asked, “Watanuki, can you get us some wine?”

Watanuki nodded his head and did not complain, moving from the room but holding tight to Dōmeki’s hand. Yourichi decided their day was strange indeed.

Yourichi settled onto a pillow on the floor, silently observing her lover. Yūko furrowed her pretty brow, clearly she was trying to figure out how to fix everything at once. Yūko would definitely have her work cut out for herself this time. Finally, Yūko turned her attention to the Monk who was lighting another cigarette; Goku remained curled in his lap. “Now that you’ve lost your companions, you will need assistance, Genjo Sanzo.”

He exhaled smoke in Yūko’s direction. “Not from you.”

Yūko threw back her head and laughed. “I’ve been warned about your lack of tact. Let’s drink.”

Drink they did. The three of them (plus Mokona) kept Watanuki running. When Goku woke up, Watanuki ran harder, attempting to fill Goku’s bottomless pit of a stomach. Neither Sanzo nor Goku seemed overly concerned about the other two. Finally, Yourichi asked about their indifference.

Sanzo shrugged. “It’s not like we’re close.”

Goku yawned and curled up on the floor next to Sanzo. “They always go together, anyway. Although it’s gonna suck to walk the rest of the way without Hakaryuu.”

“The jeep transforming dragon?” Yourichi asked.

Goku nodded.

“Replacements have been arranged for you.” Yūko said matter-of-factly. “They are on their way as we drink.”

Sanzo scowled. “What kind of replacements?”

A roaring sound filled the room, causing dishes to vibrate.

Goku’s eyes opened and jumped up. “What’s that?” he asked his excitement palpable.

“Here is one of your new companions now.” Yūko’s glass paused at her lips. “Transportation and back up fighters. I’m certain you know who arranged it.”

Sanzo scowled. “The Sanbutsushin?”

Yourichi held her breath, The Sanbutsushin? This monk wielded enormous amounts of power, both spiritually and politically if the Three Aspects of Buddha were involved in his journey.

“Yes,” Yūko was still smiling. “The Sanbutsushin, amongst others who wish to see you continue your journey.”

Yourichi could hear Watanuki in the hallway. There were new people coming to join them. Her head snapped to gaze at Yūko. “They are here already?”

“Of course,” Yūko said over the rim of her glass. “When the Three Aspects are involved, things happen rather quickly.”

“This way.” Watanuki opened the door and two men entered.

The first was a well-poised, well-dressed and sullen-faced man. Yourichi decided he was a few years older than Sanzo. The man behind him had long, bright red hair and was dressed in pink.

The serious looking man was first to speak. “My name is Tachibana Yoshiaki.”

Sanzo lit another cigarette and looked the man over. “So, you know how to drive?”

“Yes.”

“Can you fight?”

“Yes.”

“Goku.”

Goku’s staff appeared and he lunged for Tachibana. The older man dodged and almost kicked Goku’s feet out from under him.

“Whoa!” Goku caught himself and easily re-launched himself, and after several minutes of sparing and a few blows delivered on each side, he finally managed to pin Tachibana to the ground. “He’s pretty good, Sanzo. He got me a couple of times.”

“Huh. He’s almost better than the Kappa.”

Tachibana stood, brushing off his clothing.

“Why didn’t you use your magical powers?” Yūko asked.

Sanzo glared at the newcomer.

“Goku is not my enemy,” he answered succinctly.

“That solves one problem.” Sanzo turned to the man in pink. “What about you?”

“What about me?” The man smiled, it was a wily and challenging smile. “I assured you the Aspects would not ask to join you if I was not any help. Is it truly necessary to prove myself?”

Goku jumped at him, staff in hand. The redhead easily dodged the downward arc of the staff. An organic whip appeared in his hand and the room filled with the scent of roses. His whip curled around Goku’s ankle, and if Sanzo’s companion had not been so nimble, Yourichi was certain the man in pink would have had the better of their quick fight.

“Wow – yeah Sanzo, he’s even better!” Goku shouted.

“My name is Kurama.”

Sanzo’s eyes narrowed. “What are you?”

Big, piercing, green eyes blinked at him. “Why, I’m nothing more than a high school student.”

“Right. Do you not wear a limiter?”

Kurama smiled. “I see there is no fooling you. However, never fear, my Youkai form only manifests in dire circumstances.”

“Is that a fact? How much of a problem are you then?”

“I promise you, you probably won’t notice a thing.”

“Huh. Are you always dressed like… that?”

“Do you mean in pink?”

“Yes.”

“Of course,” Kurama answered and then laughed when Sanzo scowled at him. “Marvelous! You are just like Hiei.”

“And you are just like another redhead I know: irritating.” Sanzo stared at Kurama sighed. “I guess that solves two problems.”

“Um…” Watanuki began.

“Yes?” Yūko asked.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy, but there’s a tank outside and it… meows. Like a cat.”

“A tank?” Yourichi asked. “What’s a tank doing here?”

“Her name is Mike’.” Yūko looked at Sanzo. “I believe that will solve all three of your problems.”

Sanzo nodded. “It does.”

“Wait a minute, are you saying we’ll have to ride around in a tank?” Goku asked.

“Tanks are slow but efficient,” Tachibana said.

Yūko and Sanzo ignored the conversations happening around them. “You won’t have a healer so you will have to be careful.”

Sanzo nodded and then raised his voice and said, “Listen up, you pains in the ass. We are leaving at first light in the morning.”

“First light?” Goko complained. “Are you kidding?”

Yourichi moved closer to Yūko and checked her wound. She cleaned off blood and inspected the cut. “Well, Yūko, you’ve patched up this dimension. What do you think will happen in the others?”

Yūko’s gold eyes filled with sorrow when she answered softly, “I don’t know. There is one already hanging on the brink…”

Yourichi blinked. “Is that where the other men went? Not the gods, of course, but the others, you know, the green-eyed demon, the redhead, and the dragon?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes. “That world is undergoing violent changes. I’m afraid it took the brunt from this world and others bleeding into it. The minus wave effect, hollows, powerful magical artifacts and random dimension portals are all converging on one world. I worry what might happen…”

“Enough,” Yourichi ran her fingers through Yūko’s hair, attempting to soothe her lover. “You need to rest before you can do any more today.”

“That world will twist,” Yūko’s voice began to drift. “I will be interested in watching it.”

TBC

Okay, now for the cast of characters:

Yourichi is the extremely hot girl/cat from Bleach
Yūko, Watanuki, Dōmeki and Mokona are from xxxHOLIC
Sanzo, Goku, Hakaryuu/Gojun, Hakkai, Gojyo, Homura and Eyepatch (also known as Zenon) all were snagged from Saiyuki (they like to blow things up real good.)
Ceres is from… well, Ceres
Kamui is from X/1999
Tachibana Yoshiaki (also known as Naoe) is from Mirage of Blaze
Kurama (and a mention of Hiei) is from Yu Yu Hakusho
Mike’ the Tank is from Those Who Hunt Elves
Field Marshal Tenpou (Hakkai) was caught kissing Yohji from Weiß Kreuz
Syaoran and Sakura (only mentioned) are from Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles

The others in the swirling mist… well, you’ll just have to wait to find out who they are.

A Public Service Announcement.

2008-01-21T03:09:18Z

Brace for Impact!

Kaleidoscope Dimensions is coming soon. A multi-fandom, yaoi-driven, crack!fic of epic proportions brought to you by jade_heart1 and despina_moon.

We've had fun putting the crazy stuff together, we hope you'll enjoy reading our lunacy!

Cheers,
Despina

Slices of Life Chapter 5

2008-01-13T18:38:46Z

This chapter has been sitting on my hard drive collecting dust for about 3 months. I was hoping my darling Kri*Kri would have time, but she does not so I am short my Suguru beta for it. I have leaned on photoash pretty heavily.

Author: Despina
Fandom: Gravitation
Title: Slices of Life
Rating: NC17

Slices of Life, Chapter 1
Slices of Life, Chapter 2
Slices of Life, Chapter 3
Slices of Life, Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Nobody Hurts You

I try to pull my weight, study my geography
It doesn't seem to get me anywhere
I hold a picture up, everybody thinks it's me
I get a thrill out of tampering with the atmosphere
Hey baby, I'm out of favour
Can't always be the right flavour
It just seems that no matter what you do
Someone, somewhere’s suddenly gotta punish you

Nobody hurts you
Harder than yourself

You make me tag along, run into the rent-a-crowd
But they're just imitation
I try to write the song, you and me are laughing loud
But it comes out frustration
No one's going to illuminate you
All the odds are stacked against you
You're just cavin' in, right there in front of me
It's a picture I don't ever want to see

Nobody hurts you
Harder than yourself

***********************************

Suguru stood still, his eyes closed and his breathing ragged. His fingers clutched something metal, cold and heavy. There was a tinkling sound of glass breaking nearby. He breathed in, breathed out, soothing himself, centering his thoughts and calming his raging emotions.

Then, he opened his eyes.

He was clutching a floor lamp, holding it crosswise like a quarterstaff. The room around him was smashed and shattered. Suguru alone was responsible for the demolition he faced. He was not drunk nor on drugs, his room’s condition was not due to a party or a brawl. He had no excuses, no explanations he’d simply destroyed it. In a fit of anger, he had picked up a lamp and swung it, wielding it like a weapon and wrecking everything in his path.

Now that he was finished, he realized he didn’t feel any better. What he did feel was a growing sense of embarrassment and humiliation. He gazed at a pulverized mirror, a splintered desk and a bad painting hanging crooked on the wall and wondered at his idiocy. There would be no way to hide this from K, and he’d hear about it for the rest of his days.

Suguru chewed on his lip and considered how ironically absurd life was. Always before when he mused on the ridiculous, his thoughts turned to Shuichi. Now, however, Suguru was uncomfortable with his new understanding of his band mate. Suguru suspected it was something like his current feelings that had driven Shuichi to those stupid, childish outbursts during those horrid months of his separation from Yuki-san. Was it possible Shuichi experienced the same all-consuming helpless anger? Did the singer’s pain and confusion make him capable of trying anything to fill up the emptiness inside? Suguru remembered with clarity Shuichi's abuse of many innocent, non-involved hotel rooms.

Strange. Suguru never thought he’d be able to identify with Shuichi. Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming kinship with the crazy singer.

Carefully, almost reverently, he replaced the ruined lamp to its exact place in a corner. Bent and unbalanced, the tall lamp, once released, simply fell over. The television was an unfortunate recipient of the lamp’s fall and when metal struck glass, there was a subsequent mild explosion.

Gazing at the now ruined television, watching sparks leap from a busted glass screen, all he could think of to say was; “Curious.” He said it aloud and to no one but himself because, of course, he was alone.

His single regret over the past twenty-four hours was that his heart continued to beat. Pain and sorrow unexpectedly did not break it as he thought and his blood did not cease flowing through his veins. He did not understand why he had not simply collapsed and died from the crushing weight of his heartbreak.

Not for the first time, he considered how much easier life would be if he was Seguchi Tohma. He wanted to be Tohma, cold and calculating, calm and reserved, allowing nothing to touch him emotionally. Suguru chuckled; embracing his madness, and realizing even Tohma cared about some people so he must have a heart. Perhaps the god of rock’s heart was abnormally small, like the Grinch’s, but ironically, he must have one. Suguru threw back his head and laughed at life’s absurdities.

What would he do now? His life as he knew it was over. His lovers were surely done with him and there was no way he could continue being a member of Bad Luck. Shuichi might try to kill him for hurting Hiroshi and Kyosuke. There was never much love between Bad Luck's keyboardist and singer anyway. Everyone knew Shuichi would be glad to see Suguru gone.

Outsider. That was Suguru’s legacy. He had never fit in, never known how to fit in. Sitting down on an arm of the couch, he chewed on his lip again. He could feel the pull of dried tears on his cheeks but he was done with tears, now was a time for action. He needed a plan. First, he would speak with Tohma, securing a replacement keyboardist for Bad Luck. For now, he would go back to Japan or maybe check with XMR in London. No, not London, maybe New York would be better. Yes, he would relocate and start over. Maybe he would even change his name; he didn’t like his name much anyway.

The first replacement name that flitted through his brain was Inoue, followed closely by Nakano. Sighing, he mentally pushed that dead dream away.

He looked at his hands. They were speckled with blood and sparkling with tiny pieces of glass. He made his way to the bathroom and washed them clean. Contact with the warm water made his skin sting a bit, reminding him that he was alive. A wave of panic seized him and he bent over, trying to regain control from the dizziness that blurred his vision, caused his heart to pound, and his breaths to come in gasps. He hadn’t had a full on anxiety attack in months and he’d forgotten how terrifying they were. He knew lying down would only make his condition worse – he had to do something. He desperately needed to find a piano and he staggered towards the hotel door. As he reached for the doorknob, someone knocked and he took a startled step backwards.

Hiroshi’s soft, loving voice called to him through the door. “Suguru? Will you let me in?”

His panic mounted again, his vision fragmenting and his equilibrium fading, but this time he fought it. He reached for what he had left inside and embraced it, pure anger flooded through him. Why wouldn’t Hiroshi just stay away?

Hiro’s low voice dropped further, dipping into a realm where Suguru was nearly helpless to resist. “Come on, ‘Guru-kun, we need to talk. Please let me in.” Hiro’s calm voice soothed him and he closed his eyes, seeing Hiroshi’s concerned expression. Didn’t Suguru want Hiroshi to love him again?

No, not anymore. “Go away!” He shouted and grabbed the nearest object, a hotel directory and flung it at the door. He didn’t want this pain anymore, he wanted New York, or maybe somewhere on the West Coast in the US, to change his name to Alex or maybe Raoul and become a reclusive hermit. A respected and successful jazz studio musician who never allowed his picture taken and was shrouded in mystery. The tabloids would speculate on how he’d come to be such an enigma.

He sighed. His thoughts were pure, self-indulgent foolishness. In truth, he wanted Hiroshi and Kyosuke in his life, more than he'd wanted anything before. Right now, however, he wasn’t sure he deserved them. Or that they deserved him. On the other hand, he really didn’t enjoy emulating Shuichi, crying and making scenes like he was lately. Suguru was stronger than that and still wished to believe he didn’t need anyone.

Beyond the door, Suguru heard K say, “It’s Shuichi all over again.”

His vision blurred and a pounding in Suguru’s temples nearly made his head explode. He picked up a chair and hurled it with all his furious might at the door. It broke on impact and he shouted, “I am NOT Shuichi!”

A few minutes of silence passed before he heard Hiro’s gentle voice again. “’Guru-kun, let me in.”

Suguru’s only response was to sneer at the door.

“Fine,” Hiro said with the same soft tone. “One way or another, I’m coming in.”

There was a loud crash at his door and Suguru took another step back. He could hear K’s raucous laughter and Tony’s much more subdued chuckle. After a moment, he pressed his ear against the door, listening to the two men tease Hiroshi about trying to break down the door. Had Hiroshi gone crazy?

Suguru backed away, and when the second crash sounded, he retreated into his bedroom, and locked his door. He sat on his bed, folded his legs under him and waited. Had Hiroshi lost his mind? Had they all lost their minds? Kyosuke was gods knew where, Hiroshi was performing some testosterone-laden idiocy and Suguru sat sulking in his bedroom like some jealous girl, or even worse, like Shuichi. What happened to their strong trio? When did it all start to unravel?

He heard the inevitable sound of the door tearing away from the woodwork and closed his eyes. This was the most ridiculous situation he’d ever experienced. Part of him was mortified, knowing they would be the butt of K’s jokes for months and part of him felt a little thrill over Hiroshi’s absurd territorial display. Under it all, he was still hurt, angry and confused. His brain ached from attempting to sort out all his different emotions.

He also had no point of reference to draw upon. Hiroshi was his first love and Kyosuke his second. Sure, he’d been attracted to other people, but he’d never loved them. What did you do in a situation like this? Books could help you with sex and learning about your partner’s interests, but now, he had no idea what to do. Relationships were harder than he ever thought possible.

“Damn it!” He hissed to himself, pulling his knees closer to his chest, desperately trying to tap into some centering power.

“’Guru-kun?” Hiroshi’s voice was outside the flimsy bedroom door.

“I told you to go away!” His grating words to Hiroshi were cruel and false, causing him to wince. He reached for his centering again and the mediation he’d learned in his yoga class, but any calming influence slipped between his fingers like a London fog. What he really needed was a piano; he needed music.

Almost in answer to Suguru’s burning need for music, he heard Hiroshi strumming chords on his acoustic guitar. Initially Suguru was startled, he wanted to rage, wanted to pout with righteous indignation some more, but the music… well, it was their music. Suguru and Hiroshi’s music, with occasional sensual bits of Kyosuke’s unpredictability thrown in, embellishing the sound. He waited, still wanting his anger, still expecting disappointment from his lover, but nothing Hiroshi played on his guitar had anything to do with Shuichi.

Nothing. Did that mean Hiroshi understood? Of course Hiroshi understood. Hiroshi knew him better than anyone did, Suguru had simply forgotten.

He collapsed onto his back and stared at the ceiling, allowing the music to caress him, to wrap him up like a blanket. His lover’s playing normally contained emotion, but he rarely played with such gentle determination. Hiroshi was wooing him, courting him, and Suguru couldn’t help feeling pleased with experiencing his boyfriend’s rarely seen romantic side.

Nearly an hour of the serenade went on before Suguru heard Hiroshi’s low and soft singing. Hiro was surprisingly shy about his voice, always deferring to Kyosuke’s stronger one. Suguru loved Hiroshi’s singing, partly because Hiroshi sounded good and partly because Hiroshi only allowed certain people to hear him. Suguru concentrated on listening; realizing he had never heard the song before. Brimming with words and expressions of love, Suguru began to understand the song was about him.

He remembered a night, not long ago, when Kyosuke was out of town. Suguru and Hiroshi had an overwhelmingly emotional bout of lovemaking. Afterwards, Suguru slept next to his lover, curled on his side while Hiroshi strummed his guitar and sang. Suguru had dozed then, exhausted from their intense sex, but now he knew the song Hiroshi played was the song he’d written that night.

A song written specifically for him. Suguru sat up and as the last note hung in the air, he slid off the bed and opened the bedroom door.

Hiroshi looked up, shook his hair out of his face and said quietly, “There you are. I thought I would have to play all night.”

A colorful bruise was on Hiroshi’s beautiful left cheek and Suguru felt his eyes fill with tears. He blinked furiously to clear them. “Hiroshi, I hope you have that song written down somewhere. I don’t want to try and recreate it from memory.”

“Of course I wrote it down,” Hiroshi said with a chuckle. Then he stood up, gently placing his guitar in a chair and turning to face Suguru. “I’m so sorry, ‘Guru-kun. I’ve been an idiot.”

Suguru hung his head, his shoulders quivering as he tried to contain his emotions. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore. I didn’t want to be alone again. I didn’t want to get in your way. I didn’t know what to do... I still don't.”

Hiro wrapped his arms around Suguru and rubbed his back. “I know. But I do love you. I’m sorry I gave you room to doubt.”

Suguru clutched at Hiro, his grip almost painful as he hung on, his knees weak and his body shaking with sobs. Suguru was confused. He didn’t cry. Of the three of them, he was the least likely to cry and now here he was, acting like Shuichi again. His tears stopped with that thought. “You are a prick, sometimes. Do you know that, Hiroshi?”

Hiro chuckled and then nuzzled at Suguru’s neck. “Yes, I do.”

“Don’t do that,” Suguru insisted halfheartedly.

Hiro pulled back, his eyes sparkling. “Make up sex is the best, ‘Guru-kun.”

Suguru rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t know. You’re usually ‘making up’ with Kyosuke, not me.”

“You are so sexy when you are jealous.” Hiroshi licked at his neck this time.

Fighting a moan, but loving the comforting feel of Hiroshi’s arms wrapped around him, he said, “I’m not convinced we are at the making up point, yet.”

“Sure we are,” Hiroshi whispered in his ear. “You want me, I can tell. I’d throw you down right here, but there’s glass everywhere and your front door is broken.”

“There’s always the bedroom,” Suguru said with a shrug, giving in completely, but trying to maintain the appearance of ambivalence. “If you were really serious about it, that is.”

Hiroshi grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bedroom, door closing behind them. He pressed Suguru onto the bed, tearing at both of their clothes in the process. Suguru’s cock began to throb almost immediately with desperate desire. Hiroshi and him were about to make love and Suguru felt overwhelming relief. He felt whole, again.

“Wait,” Suguru said, fumbling for his jeans, attempting to halt Hiroshi’s destruction of his clothing. “Let me take off…”

“No,” Hiroshi growled and slapped away his hands. “I’m doing it.”

“But shouldn’t I…”

“No! Be quiet.” Hiroshi tugged off Suguru’s pants, grabbed his freed erection, and squeezed.

“Ow! Easy, Hiroshi.”

“Like hell,” Hiroshi said his voice thick with passion and he squeezed again. “We both know you like pain, maybe more than I do. You deny it, but we know it, you and me, don’t we?”

“I… Hiroshi, don’t.” Suguru squirmed in embarrassment, guilt and shame filled him.

“Especially when you are needy like you are now. It took me a while to figure it out, but when you are insecure, your pretty, nasty little head fills up with rape fantasies, doesn’t it? You want Kyosuke and me to fuck you mercilessly. You want us to hold you down while you struggle and you want us to take turns with you. You want us to hurt you; because, somehow, that proves something to you, but you won’t admit to it. Why?” The gray eyes delved into him, peeling away his layers, getting into his twisted head. “You can’t possibly think that makes you stranger than us, do you?”

Suguru felt dry fingers between his legs and he panicked. “Hiroshi, I still need some lube!”

“I see.” Hiroshi sat back, knowing smile on his face. “Take off what’s left of your clothes.”

Suguru nodded, his face heating while he stood and disrobed. Gods, Hiroshi did know him. What’s more, Hiroshi knew and didn’t appear disgusted by Suguru’s weirdness.

Hiroshi lay on his side watching. His voice softened when he asked, “Why, ‘Guru-kun? Why do you hide so much of yourself from us? You were lonely and hurting, trying so desperately to please us, slowly burning yourself out. Why would you do that? Why would you risk our relationship?”

Standing naked before his lover, a barrage of hard questions thrown at him, his erection flagged. Maybe he did disgust Hiroshi.

Hiro reached out and pulled him onto the bed, cuddling him close, face to face. Brushing back Suguru’s short hair, he whispered into his ear. “Why can’t you tell us you don’t trust us?”

“I do…” he felt his eyes sting again, the prick of gathering tears.

“No, you don’t.” Hiro kissed his forehead, still smoothing back his hair. “It’s okay if you don’t, ‘Guru. We’ve given you many reasons not to, but please don’t pretend you do. Trust can take a long, long time. Kyosuke and I both understand.”

“I want to trust you, and I do about some things.” Suguru sighed, knowing what he said was a lie. “Okay, maybe I don’t. I don’t know how.” And I’m so weird, he wanted to add.

Hiroshi chuckled. “So you are human after all. That’s quite a surprise for you, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to be like Shuichi.”

Hiroshi laughed aloud with Suguru’s declaration. “You are many things, Fujisaki Suguru, but resembling Shuichi is not one of them.”

Suguru thought those might be the sweetest words his lover had ever said to him. He suddenly felt lighter and his mind seemed to clear. He tenderly cupped Hiroshi’s bruised cheek. “I love you, Nakano Hiroshi.”

Hiroshi pressed him onto his back, kissing Suguru deeply, pushing his tongue deep inside with a moan. When he broke the kiss, Hiroshi said, “I want you. Right now. Do you want me?”

Suguru nodded.

“Really? Show me.”

Suguru spread his legs and raised his hips, his erection returning with speed. “Do you have lube?”

“I do.” Hiro grinned at him and stood, pulling a small bottle from his pocket before shedding the remainder of his clothing.

“Sure of yourself, weren’t you?” Suguru frowned at his lover. “Kyosuke’s definitely rubbed off.”

“Hmm.” Hiro mused; positioning himself between Suguru’s spread thighs. While he opened the small bottle of lube and smeared his fingers, he added, “I suppose we’ll have to fetch his sorry ass next. Right now, though, we have other matters requiring attention.”

Suguru cried out when Hiro’s middle finger jabbed inside him. Hiro didn’t give any warning and the sudden intrusion bordered on pain and something else, something not even Suguru expected entirely. “Oh!”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Hiro chuckled.

A second finger plunged inside him and it did hurt, but not enough to disrupt his hard-on, just enough to make it harder. With a shift of his hips and a wanton moan, he called out to his lover. “Hiroshi, please.”

Fingers disappeared and he felt Hiroshi’s cock at his entrance. Suguru had never taken in a cock with so little preparation; sure, there was some lube, but not much. With one push, Hiroshi filled him and he nearly screamed, pain and pleasure merging into one, impossible for him to draw the line. This was the experience of his dreams and fantasies, buried deep, his secret shame.

“Fuck, you are tight like this,” Hiroshi panted once he was fully inside. He pulled his cock out before Suguru could acclimate, and then slammed inside again. And again. Hiroshi studied him closely, Suguru assumed he was watching for distress, but instead he asked, “Is this what you wanted when you asked us to hurt you?”

Suguru felt delirious, loving the pain and mortification, and getting the raw fuck of a lifetime. “Y…yes.”

“Kyosuke’s bigger. When he does you, holy gods, I want to watch, ‘Guru-kun. Your face is so sexy when I fill you up like this. When he does it, with that big cock of his, I’ll bet you’ll be screaming.”

“Uh, he won’t,” Suguru grunted his answer and shook his head for emphasis, in spite of Hiroshi’s constant, forceful thrusts. “He’ll be freaked out, he’s squeamish. He’ll think I’m weird.”

Hiro pulled Suguru’s left leg up and pressed it to his right leg, pushing Suguru onto his side, making his passage tighter, making Hiroshi’s cock feel bigger. “You assume too much. He will do it. When he sees your expression, this expression of bliss, he’ll fuck you all night with minimum lube and you’ll be begging for more. I wish he was here right now to see this.”

Suguru felt his orgasm build with his lover’s words, raw and full of embarrassing truth. Hiroshi might not have quite the lovemaking skills Kyosuke had, but he did have the dirty mouth. Suguru loved that.

“Maybe you want us both at the same time,” Hiroshi said, leaning over and breathing in Suguru’s ear. “That might give you enough pain and pleasure to satisfy you, both of us inside you, stretching you wide open.”

Suguru saw the image in his head. Somehow, both of his lovers would be inside him at the same time. His orgasm burst from him, his body shaking with his spasms of his speedy climax.

Hiroshi gently moved Suguru’s sweat-soak, exhausted and pliant body onto his back. Smoothing back Suguru’s hair once again, Hiro grinned. “I thought you might like that idea, My cock along side Kyosuke’s, stuffed inside your tight ass, just thinking about it makes me ache to come.”

Suguru’s cock was amazingly still hard and Hiroshi’s words made him twitch with need again.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you, yet.” Hiroshi nipped at him, and looped his arms under Suguru’s knees, folding his lover in half before he began to move again. “Yes, you are limber, aren’t you? Yoga is marvelous and I’m sure it will help when you take both of us.”

“Hiroshi.” Suguru clung to his lover, feeling his body respond and his orgasm rising again while Hiroshi took his time. “Love me.”

“I do love you, ‘Guru-kun.” He nuzzled at Suguru’s neck and slid his hand around Suguru’s hard cock, Hiro’s thumb stroking his dripping slit. Suguru groaned in response. “Are you close to coming again? I can feel you, tight, hard and wet.”

Suguru arched into Hiroshi’s body. “Just a little more.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Hiroshi panted and twisted his hips, rubbing against Suguru’s prostate with a skill they’d both learned from Kyosuke. His hand around Suguru’s cock, began pumping in time with his strokes. “Right now, I feel like I could do this all night.”

Suguru’s body stiffened and he felt Hiroshi expand and harden inside him, stretching him open further. “Uh, I’m coming…”

“I know,” Hiroshi said with a shiver, closing his eyes, his hips suddenly snapping faster. “I am, too.”

“I love you,” Suguru managed to choke out, while feeling Hiroshi spill inside him.

They lay in bed afterwards, their bodies cooling, sticky and sweaty and both temporarily unmotivated to shower or move. Hiroshi propped himself up on one elbow and ran his long fingers over Suguru’s skin, pausing at a love bite on his neck. “That guy you were with said these hickeys were from Kyosuke and me.”

Suguru smiled and Hiroshi’s jealousy flared, causing his gray eyes to turn the color of a rising tempest storm. Kyosuke always commented on Hiroshi’s storm-colored eyes, loving their expressive nature. Suguru did, too, realizing he felt warmed by Hiroshi’s jealousy. “You gave me that hickey you are touching now.”

Hiroshi raised an eyebrow and gazed at Suguru with suspicion. “You know who gave you which hickey?”

Laughing, Suguru closed his eyes, allowing the calming pleasure he felt to wash over him and fill him, finally finding his centering space. “Of course I know who gave me which hickey.”

“All right.” Hiroshi smiled at the challenge and moved his fingers to Suguru’s hips. “What about this one?”

“Kyosuke.” Suguru answered, opening his eyes and touching a fading love bite on Hiroshi’s hip in return. “Haven’t you noticed? Kyosuke is a maniac for hipbones.”

“Yes. He is fond of that spot.” A shadow crossed Hiroshi’s face. “He doesn’t think you love him, you know.”

Suguru ran a hand through his shaggy hair. He really needed a trim. “Kyosuke is an idiot.”

Hiroshi placed his head on Suguru’s chest and continued to play his fingers over flesh. “I can’t argue with you about Kyosuke’s stupidity, but I will take exception if you begin attacking his weaknesses. He thought you trusted him, I think that was quite a blow to him. Don’t forget, ‘Guru-kun, all three of us have emotional scars and Kyosuke’s run deep.”

“I know, Hiroshi, but has it crossed your mind that he might not be truthful with us or himself?” Suguru inhaled, bracing himself for Hiroshi’s probable denial. “Do you really feel he could have gotten over Shuichi so quickly?”

The room fell quiet and the pause continued until Suguru began to wonder if his lover had fallen asleep. “Hiroshi?”

Hiro’s voice was soft and serious when he said, “I don’t think he’s over Shu. He might never be. Right now, yes, I believe he’s denying it.” Hiroshi sat up, folding his legs and taking Suguru’s right hand. “I know you feel we are only Shuichi-replacements, ‘Guru, but I don’t think that’s an accurate assessment.”

Suguru blinked in mystification at his lover.

Hiroshi chuckled in response. “I’m not blind, you know, only selfish. I know what’s going on with you and with Kyosuke both. I’m just not sure what to do about it.” He poked Suguru on the forehead. “You are jealous of lingering feelings for Shu from both Kyosuke and me, that’s painfully obvious. Kyosuke is on unfamiliar ground, suddenly in a relationship that requires a commitment, and he’s terrified he’ll screw it up and lose us. He thinks you only love me. You think he only loves me. I think I’m too emotionally fragile to help anyone and think you’re both crazy. So there you have it, three people in a mess.”

“I miss him,” Suguru said.

“I do, too.” Hiroshi smiled at him. “I love you both, you know.”

“I know.” Suguru nodded.

“Do you love us both?”

Suguru didn’t require any time to consider the question. “Yes, I do.”

“Good. Then we need to go get him after I sleep.”

Touching Hiroshi’s bruised cheek he said, “I’m sorry.”

Hiroshi captured his hand and kissed Suguru’s palm. “No, you’re not. I had it coming.”

“Well, yeah, you did.” Suguru looked down. “But I did behave a little wildly, myself.”

“Yeah, what was up with that?” Hiroshi frowned. “How could you just run off with the first guy who came along?”

Suguru shrugged. “I got to see how Kyosuke lived before us. And Hunter was hot.”

Hiroshi glared until Suguru started to laugh. “Oh, stop it. I didn’t sleep with Hunter, Hiro, I threw up on him.”

“He came by the house you know. To return your shirt and to check on you.” Hiroshi said with a scowl.

“He did?”

“Yes. He told me the whole story. He’s a smug bastard. He slept with Kyosuke, you know.”

“Yes.” Suguru laughed again. “I know. Ten years ago. Besides, who in Europe hasn’t slept with Kyosuke?”

“Good point.” Hiroshi sighed in resignation. “I don’t like him, though.”

Suguru leaned forward and kissed his lover. “I know.”

Cupping Suguru’s face, Hiro’s gray eyes held him in place. “He touched you. He kissed you. I don’t like that, Suguru. It’s an ugly feeling.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.” Suguru swallowed, taking in the stormy gaze, reveling in Hiroshi’s jealousy. “I promise, it won’t happen again.”

Hiroshi stared at Suguru for a long time, hurricanes and holocausts tumbled in the tempestuous storm of his gray eyes before he finally nodded in understanding. Pulling Suguru’s compliant body close, Hiro wrapped his long legs around him, longhair brushing against Suguru’s skin as they cuddled. Hiro sighed, his body relaxing. “I’ll hold you to your promise. I think you and me are done with this conversation now, but Kyosuke might have more to add.”

“Agreed.” Suguru replied, leaning into his lover and placing his head just under Hiroshi’s chin. He inhaled their combined earthy and recent-sex scent, feeling at peace. Suguru breathed, allowing his thoughts reign, not holding back. “Hiroshi, how do you feel about that other guy, the one at the bar?” Suguru’s couldn’t stop his voice from tightening. “The one who looked like Shuichi.”

“Oh, hey! That’s what it was!” Hiro pulled away and looked Suguru in the eye. “I was trying to figure out why he seemed so familiar. He did remind me of Shu now that you mention it. What was his name?”

“Rhys,” Suguru answered flatly.

Hiroshi’s smile faded. “Oh, ‘Guru-kun, he wasn’t that much like Shu.”

“He slept with Kyosuke,” Suguru hissed.

Hiroshi began to laugh. “Shall I repeat your own words back to you? Who in Europe hasn’t Kyosuke slept with?”

“I know but…why doesn’t that guy bother you?” Suguru pursed his lips and fell silent.

Long strong arms wrapped around him again. “You are unbelievably sexy when you are jealous. Kyosuke will be over the moon when he finds out about this.”

Suguru shook his head. “Kyosuke doesn’t get jealous.”

“Yes he does. He didn’t know it until he thought you and his friend were sleeping together. Didn’t you see him? He could barely deal with the thought, ‘Guru. I think that really threw him.” Hiroshi flopped onto the bed, his hand still resting on Suguru’s thigh. “I’m so tired. I need to sleep.”

Suguru thought about it, remembering with a stab of guilty pain the look of devastation and shock on Kyosuke’s face. After a few moments, he finally stood up and reached for his phone. “Get up, Hiroshi; we need to take a shower. You can sleep in the car.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Tony?” Suguru said into his cell phone. “Can you take us to Kyosuke? Yes. Give us about an hour and we’ll need clothes for Hiroshi. Okay. See you then.” He hung up and gazed at his lover. “Come on, let’s shower and get ready.”

“Are you kidding? I’m exhausted.”

“Too bad.” Suguru narrowed his eyes. “Kyosuke is somewhere in Germany, driving like a lunatic.”

“I know,” Hiroshi said, closing his eyes. “He’ll still be there if we leave in the morning.”

Suguru place a hand on his naked hip. “But will he be alone?”

Hiroshi’s eyes snapped open and he sat up. “Let’s shower. I can sleep in the car.”

Suguru nodded and the two made their way to the bathroom.

“What’s this?” Hiroshi said, eyeing the silver-colored Mercedes S class with distrust.

“Mine,” Suguru answered.

“Yours?” Hiroshi blinked. “Since when?”

“A couple of weeks.” Suguru avoided expanding on the subject.

“You have a license?”

“Of course.”

“Who taught you?”

Suguru pursed his lips. “I took lessons.”

Tony laughed.

Hiroshi turned to the bodyguard. “Tony, did you teach him?”

Tony shook his head, but continued to smile.

Frowning, Hiroshi turned to Suguru. “Who taught you?”

Suguru shrugged. “Some guy. Tohma hooked me up. He’s supposed to be good. Let’s go.”

Hiroshi looked at Tony. The big man nodded, opening the Mercedes’ door and gesturing for Hiroshi to get it. “His instructor is good.”

Relaxing, Hiroshi slid into the most luxurious car he’d ever seen.

Tony grinned and just before he closed the door he said, “Suguru-san’s instructor is good, for a grand prix driver, anyway.”

Hiroshi’s eyes went wide. “What?” He twisted his head around when he heard the engine engage. “What!?”

Suguru grinned and gunned the engine. “Don’t worry, Hiro-chan. This is the safest car there is. There will be no dangerous motorcycles or crazy, illegally modified cars for me.” He gunned the V12, the engine responded with quiet power. “See, it doesn’t really growl like any of Kyosuke’s cars. It purrs. Someone has to be the responsible person in the group.”

Hiroshi clutched at his seatbelt; Suguru could see his knuckles were turning white. “Well, at least we’ll go together.”

Suguru laughed with pure, evil joy, throwing the car into reverse. “Don’t worry, it tops out at a mere 155 miles an hour.” For a moment, he considered that maybe, just maybe, he was more like Seguchi Tohma than Shindou Shuichi and he laughed again.

A day and a half later, exhausted and both needing showers, they pulled into the parking lot of a small pub in a small town in Switzerland. They parked next to Tony and stepped out of the now dirty Mercedes. Nakamura moved silkily between the cars towards them. Suguru never thought he’d be so happy to see the dour, taciturn man. Seeing Nakamura meant Kyosuke was definitely inside the small pub. Suguru smiled at Hiroshi and together they gazed at the door.

“He’s drunk.” Nakamura spoke succinctly. “Angry. Sad.”

Suguru nodded his understanding.

Tony looked at the Japanese bodyguard closely and spoke in a language not Mandarin, Japanese or English. Suguru strained his ears as they exchanged words. Nakamura tipped his head and stared at Suguru for several minutes before replying.

“Hey! Do we need to be worried here, or what?” Hiroshi asked, impatience laced through his words.

Tony shrugged and spoke to Suguru in Mandarin, “Would that stop you?”

Suguru shook his head, suddenly feeling very sad. Kyosuke was in bad shape if his two bodyguards were worried about him. He studied the parking lot, realizing Kyosuke’s Aston Martin wasn’t present and that was additionally worrisome. Suguru finally responded to Kyosuke’s bodyguards in Japanese. “No, being worried won’t stop us. He needs us now, doesn’t he?”

Nakamura’s expression was grim and then inexplicably, he bowed.

“What the fuck?” Hiroshi exclaimed.

“Yes,” Suguru answered, tugging on Hiroshi’s arm, now feeling afraid. “What the fuck is what I want to know, too. Come on.”

The two stepped through the door of the pub together.

TBC

Lyrics for Nobody Hurts You by Graham Parker (sooner or later, I had to have at least one of the angry young men…)

Cowboy Bebop Fic - Stray Cats, Chapter 2

2008-01-06T08:11:01Z

Hmm, well I had this thought after I had finished writing 'Stray Cats' which is a continuation. However, be warned it isn't fluffy.

Title: Stray Cats
Author: JadeHeart
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Pairing: Spike & Vicious
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: sexual situations, yaoi
Timeline: Begins at end of anime.

Summary: Spike and Vicious were always destined to be together, even to the end.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this, they belong to the creator of ‘Cowboy Bebop’, nor am I making any profits from it.

-oOo-

Chapter 2

Spike’s eyes felt dry and he wanted to blink but even that small motion seemed beyond his capability. He felt something moist pool under his cheek resting on the floor. He struggled a moment longer and was finally able to briefly lower his eyelids then slowly reopen them.

The scene was still the same. The cold marble stairs, although the view in the distance seemed dimmer as though dusk was falling. Wasn’t it morning though? Hadn’t it just been bright but a moment before? He felt cold. Not cold as in wanting to shiver; a deep bone penetrating inner cold that was freezing his soul.

It was so very cold.

He focussed suddenly on a sound, a faint, shallow slow gasping and it took him a long time before he realised it was coming from him. He continued to listen to his breathing. Just listening to that straining sound made him feel tired. Perhaps he should just stop.

He wondered if it would have been possible to change this somehow. When had been the point of no return? When he had decided to leave the Syndicate?

No, he thought, no, it had happened before that. Probably when he had fallen in love with Julia and suddenly a whole new world of possibilities had opened up before him, a world that he had never even contemplated before.

Up till then he hadn’t expected to live a very long life; no-one in the Syndicate really expected that. He had only ever lived from day to day, taking pleasure in the present with not a single thought for the future. He had only ever expected to be with the Syndicate and to live and die by Vicious’ side.

But then he’d met Julia, and all that had changed.

He hadn’t been looking to fall in love. He’d resigned himself to knowing that Vicious didn’t need him, not in the way that he had begun to feel for him. Spike wasn’t such a fool as to hang onto useless dreams so he buried those deep within his heart, content to just be able to watch his friend’s back.

No, he hadn’t been searching for love at all. He’d had his fair share of women; he knew the pleasures of the flesh only too well and wasn’t about to deny that he enjoyed it. There were plenty of women in the Syndicate; those that were attracted by the power, the wealth. Those that were there by choice and those that weren’t. All were willing to give what they had in one way or another.

So he had never been at a loss for bed partners if he so desired. He and Vicious had even shared women at various times; sometimes only one between them, sometimes more. Watching his friend make love to a woman whom he had just shot his load within had turned him on a lot. Yes, being in the Syndicate had exposed him to every type of kink and fetish there was. He might not be a fan of it all but there was little that could ever have shocked him either.

Then he’d met her.

-oOo-

The white ball rolled down the table and clinked against the other, sending a second to ricochette into the pocket just as he had planned.

“Got ya,” he said with satisfaction as he turned to grin at his opponent who was beginning to look a little sour. Not surprising with the amount of money riding on this game and at the moment Spike was winning. Still the game could go either way.

Spike wasn’t too worried though. He’d hustled for a long time, it had been his way of making money on the side for as long as he was tall enough to pick up a cue. He might not have been the best player in the world but he knew how to pick his marks.

Now he tended to play more for just fun, but if money was placed on the table he wasn’t one to pass the opportunity up either way.

He lined up for his next shot, determining what would be the best. Hmm, he probably wouldn’t get that one in and if he missed he set things up too nicely for the other guy. Not a good idea. But…and he looked over the table again. If he went for that one, even if he did miss the other guy wouldn’t be able to pot anything either so the play would go back to Spike. Yeah, he’d do that.

Deciding, he made the move and unluckily did miss but he also saw his partner grimace as he realised that he wasn’t left with many options either. Spike threw him a cocky grin and then looked up across the table into the dimness of the bar beyond.

His eyes met those of another; a woman. He slowly stood, just looking at her. He hadn’t seen her in here before, he was sure he would have noticed. Not because she was some stunning beauty; some of the whores in these parts were more physically attractive. No, it wasn’t beauty that caught his attention, it was her eyes. A steady, even gaze that seemed to look right into the very depths of his soul, stripping him bare. She seemed so calm, as though nothing would disturb her, and yet he couldn’t help but think that those eyes looked….sad.

He smiled at her, and her lips only just curled in a small returning gesture but that was enough of an invitation for him to go over to speak to her. He walked around the table, keeping his gaze on her.

“Hey!” a voice called out behind him. “It’s your shot.”

Spike looked back and smiled at his pool partner, racking his cue. “That’s fine,” he said with a smile. “I forfeit.” He gave a half wave as he turned away again, snagging his jacket from the back of the chair where he’d left it as he continued over to where the woman waited.

“Are you certain about that?” she said as he drew near. “That seemed like a lot of money and it looked like you were winning.”

Spike smiled at her. “Nah, it’s fine. I can always get another game later.” He cocked his head to one side, smile still on his face. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

This time the smile she returned was a little fuller. “Can you afford it?” she asked, turning towards the bar.

Spike chuckled. “Oh, I think I can stretch the budget to a couple at least.”

He motioned to the bartender and asked, “What will you have?” The woman ordered her drink and Spike just said, “The usual,” before seating himself next to her.

“Haven’t seen you around these parts before,” he said as way of opening conversation. “You new in town?”

“No,” she replied, looking over at him. “I’ve been around for a while. I’ve seen you before.”

“You have?” he felt a little surprised.

She smiled at him, and now there was a small twinkle in her eye. “You’re quite famous, you know,” she said, leaning her chin on one upraised hand, watching him with that steady gaze.

“I am?” Spike just continued to stare at her.

She chuckled then, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down his spine. He couldn’t stand girls that giggled. This woman wasn’t anything like the women he usually hung out with. “You’re not….quite what I expected.” She said.

Their drinks arrived at that moment and Spike picked his up, turning to raise his glass so they could touch them together in salute. “What were you expecting?” he asked, taking a swallow.

“Oh, some six foot, beefy thug with an evil smile and a foul temper.” She replied, sipping from her own glass. The smile was still on her full lips.

“So, are you disappointed?” he asked. She might just be the sort that went for that type of guy. He’d known a few like that before.

She laughed then, a full hearty laugh. “Not at all,” she smiled at him again. “I will say that I’m pleasantly surprised.” She took another sip, watching him over the top of her glass. “Are you disappointed?”

He smiled broadly at her and shook his head. “Not one bit. Let’s just say I think I’m relieved.”

“Oh?”

He raised his glass to her. “This means you are someone that I think I’ll enjoy getting to know.”

She clinked her glass against his once more and they both drank.

“By the way,” he said. “What’s your name?”

She smiled warmly at him. “Julia,” she replied.

“Nice name,” he said. “I’m Spike.”

“I know,” she answered and they ordered another drink.

-oOo-

Spike half coughed, the sudden movement shooting stabbing pain through his entire body.

That had all happened long ago. All they had done that first night had been talk, sitting on the stools at the bar, drinking. It had been nice, and comfortable. He’d liked that.

When he’d left he hadn’t actually thought he would see her again so it had been a surprise when he did – and yet not. He didn’t want to call it a premonition or anything but in the back of his mind he’d wanted to see her again. It certainly hadn’t been any surprise to find that she too had connections with the Syndicate. After all, most people in that neighbourhood did so why should she have been any different?

Their relationship had grown gradually. They began to spend some time together, catching brief moments between his jobs. They often would sit at cafes and sip coffee, or more likely find themselves in some tiny bar downtown. Spike hadn’t even realised it when he’d fallen in love with her. When Vicious had implied such a thing, he’d just laughed at his friend. Him? In love? That was just ludicrous.

-oOo-

Spike let the water run over his body as he stood in the shower. He reached out and placed both hands flat against the tiles before him, dropping his head under the steady stream of water, closing his eyes for a moment. Like that he didn’t have to watch the swirling darkness staining the water around his feet before disappearing down the drain.

It felt good like this. The warm water thoroughly soaked his thick curly hair, penetrating to the scalp. The tiny droplets striking his skin felt like a massage and he sighed before reluctantly straightening. He reached out and turned off the taps, wincing a little as the water struck against the cuts and abrasions patterning his body.

He stepped out of the shower, flinging his head back to throw the water laden hair out of his eyes and raked a hand through the sodden mass, fingers sliding through the strands. He gazed at himself in the mirror for a moment, taking note of the mottling beginning on his skin. That’s gonna hurt later, he thought silently as he reached for a towel.

He vigorously dried himself down, ignoring the small pricks of pain as the cloth caught on the freshly scabbed cuts. He pulled on the clean trousers he’d set aside before draping the towel over his head and rubbing at his hair as he exited the bathroom.

“Feel better?”

Spike looked up to see Vicious sitting in the only chair in the room at the small table, smoking.

“Yeah,” he replied, walking over and picking up the packet of cigarettes lying there. He placed one between his lips and leant down to set it against the flame of the lighter that Vicious held up to him.

Spike exhaled as his other hand absently still continued to scrub at his hair. “What’s the time?” he asked, glancing over towards the clock with the cracked face hanging on the wall.

“Why? You got to be somewhere?” Vicious asked, eyes narrowing.

“Yeah,” Spike moved over to the closet in the corner, opening it and pulling out shirt and jacket.

Viscous stood then and moved across to the window, gazing out of it for a moment as Spike dressed.

“You’re going to see Julia again, aren’t you?” he finally said, turning and leaning back against the sill.

Spike threw him a grin, eyes sparkling. “Yep!” he answered. He winked then. “Don’t want to be late. You should never keep a lady waiting!”

Vicious didn’t return the smile but Spike was too preoccupied to really notice. “What’s really going on between you two?” he asked instead, lifting the almost finished cigarette to his lips.

“Whadda you mean?” Spike said absently as he looked at himself in the mirror and tried to smooth his unruly curls into place.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately,” Vicious said. “We’ve not hung out together for a while now, you’re always busy.”

“Ah, you know,” Spike said tossing a grin over his shoulder at his friend. “She’s a nice, classy lady. Who wouldn’t choose spending time with her over getting pissed in some bar every night with you fellas?”

“Spike,” Viscous said, walking over to the table and crushing the cigarette into the ashtray. “Are you in love with her?”

“Love?” Spike stopped his preening and stared at his friend’s reflection. He then laughed and turned from the mirror. “Don’t be stupid, Vicious,” he said, chuckling. “It’s just all good times, you know that!”

Spike made his way to the door and turned to look back at Vicious as he opened it. “Don’t you worry, my friend,” he said with a grin, giving a half salute. “I’m not that foolish to fall in love. Not with anyone.” And he had left.

-oOo-

And that is what he had thought it was. It hadn’t been sex that he had been seeking and in fact it hadn’t been love at first sight either with Julia. He had just thought of it as finding someone he felt comfortable talking with, and perhaps a bit of an escapism from spending all his time with Vicious. He knew that Vicious would never be his so what was the point of him constantly hanging onto him? Julia was another friend in his life, someone other than Vicious.

So, till then, he hadn’t thought about it in terms of ‘love’, but the first night they spent together it had struck him hard. This wasn’t just a one night stand, this wasn’t just a fling. He wanted to be here, with this woman. He wanted to spend time with Julia, as much time as he was able to. Being with her made him feel…lighter. As though, despite what he did for a living, he wasn’t damned. When she smiled at him, it made him want to believe that any sin he’d committed could be forgiven and he wanted to hold on to that hope. The more time he spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her. Suddenly, his life was changing. Everyday he was impatient to be done with what he was doing so he could return to her.

Yes, finally even he had to admit it. He loved her.

So for the first time in his life he began to dream of a future; a future beyond the Syndicate. He found himself beginning to notice how ordinary people lived, without the use of guns and terror as a part of their every day. They didn’t come home each night and wash the blood away. He began to want to experience that for himself, with Julia at his side.

He’d thought long and hard about it. It wasn’t something to be taken lightly. He of all people knew only too well just how the Syndicate dealt with deserters. You didn’t leave – not of your own free will. That was the one and only rule written in stone. The Syndicate owned him, body and soul.

But now he wanted to break free of that. He wanted to know what was beyond the Syndicate; beyond the orders, the blood, and mayhem. Still he wouldn’t just be able to walk away. It was going to take some careful planning if he was going to pull it off.

There was another thing that continued to make him hesitate in taking such action. The one thing that kept holding him back was Vicious. The thought of leaving his friend’s side made his heart ache. He didn’t want to do it, but there was no point in him staying either. So finally he made his choice. Vicious didn’t need him. He could see the ambition burning in his friend’s eyes, the way the powers on high were beginning to take notice of him, to look at him with admiration and a little fear. They weren’t fools and knew that if they could harness the strength in Vicious they could use it for their own purposes. But if they couldn’t, they would be nurturing a snake in their bosom which could one day turn and strike without warning. That was the way of this world.

When he had worked it all out, when he finally settled on the exact time and place to put his plan into action he went to Julia. When he had first broached the subject with her she had agreed, but the closer it came to the time of actually going through with it she became more afraid. He knew that and couldn’t really blame her. Hell, he had been afraid as well, but even that tendril of fear made the thought of freedom that much sweeter.

He’d stopped by her apartment that last time on his way to the job. As he’d held her hand tightly, he had pressed the note into the palm, telling her where to meet him. She knew the place; the graveyard was beside the large cathedral where they often would meet on the steps. She wouldn’t have any problem finding it. He’d smiled at her, trying to reassure her, but there were still tears in her eyes when he’d left her.

He’d done the job as the Syndicate required, but his mind had already been far away. That moment of incaution had allowed a bullet to sink into his side. With a hand pressed tightly against the bleeding wound he had managed to stagger to the cemetery, steps dragging and every breath agony, hiding amongst the gravestones. He’d leant on a tombstone, the raindrops sliding down the slick stone under his hand, mixing with his blood and turning the riverlets red.

He’d waited there for a long time; waited in the rain, no longer even feeling the pain in his side. He had half-hoped that Julia might have been waiting for him already. Stupid really. She wouldn’t be here yet, it was far too dangerous. He had to disappear for a while first before meeting with her so they could leave together.

Finally he had turned away, knowing he had to seek medical help if he was going to stay one step ahead of the Syndicate. He still hadn’t given up his dream of freedom, with or without Julia, and soon his defection would be suspected so there was no going back. Now he truly was on his own.

He managed to make it out of town, finding a local doctor to clean and dress his wound. He didn’t stay there but moved on again, heading further away before finding a hotel and locking himself in his room to sleep for the next two days as he thrashed in a fevered dream as his body recuperated.

He had laid low after that, keeping off the radar of the Syndicate as much as possible. They had a long reach and he didn’t want to draw any attention to his presence. He hoped that they might think he was already dead and so not be seeking him but he couldn’t count on that.

When he’d been able to move again he had made his way back to the spaceport, looking for passage off world. To accomplish that, he had had one stop to make first, also hoping to find out the latest news about what was happening with the Syndicate. He’d found it out sure enough. And it hadn’t been pleasant.

-oOo-

“Hey, Annie,” Spike said as he entered the shop, hearing the bell tinkle overhead, keeping one hand deep in the pocket of his jacket, curled around the gun hidden there.

“Well now,” Annie said, coming out from the back room and recognising him. She looked at him carefully, noting the way he held himself. “You hurt, sonny?”

He shook his head. “Nothing bad,” he answered with a smile, drawing closer, eyes darting from side to side.

“Relax,” Annie said, turning away to place some items on the shelf behind her. “There aint no-one here but us.” She looked over her shoulder. “You’re in big trouble, you know that?”

He dropped onto the couch under the window with a wince as it pulled at his freshly healed wound. “Yeah. Guessed as much.”

Annie leant her elbows on the counter and scrutinised him carefully. “You sure you really want to do this?”

“Yep,” He smiled crookedly at her. “Sort of burned all my bridges anyway.”

“Hmm,” she replied. “Thought you would have taken your lady friend.”

Spike half smiled. “We’re working on that.”

“Really?” Annie sounded surprised. “You sure about that?”

Spike felt a tendril of alarm begin in his stomach. “What’s the matter?”

“Well, it doesn’t look like she’s making any plans to move on. She’s looking pretty settled in.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s moved on, sonny,” Annie said, moving around the counter.

“What?” Spike looked up.

Annie glanced at him with a steady eye. “”She’s with Vicious now. Didn’t you know?”

Spike sat frozen in place, unable to move at all for a moment as those words pounded through his skull. Julia….and Vicious……together. Was that why she hadn’t wanted to come with him? Why she had been so upset about it? How long had it been going on? Had they both been laughing at him behind his back all this time? Had she been lying when she had whispered that she loved him in the darkness of the night, their skin still slick with sweat from sex?

“I don’t quite know what’s the story,” Annie continued as she sat beside him. “And I’m not sure that she’s too keen about it either.” Annie looked back at Spike. “I never took Vicious for taking on your hand me-downs neither. That’s not his usual style.”

She leant back in the couch as well, gazing up at the ceiling. “You know it’s going to be really strange with you not around these parts.” She looked across at him with a small smile. “You and Vicious were always together, like a matching set. Two mangy strays roaming the streets, that’s what the two of you always reminded me of. It’s gonna be real odd with only him left.”

Spike shook off his stupor and turned to her with a tight smile. “Can you put me together a bit of travel pack, Annie?’ he asked, looking briefly down at his clasped hands between his knees, feeling a sense of loss. “I know I’m asking a lot and I don’t want to get you any trouble but I’ll pay you well for it.”

“That’s fine,” she said, waving her hand. “I’ll give it to you at discount. All the normal things?”

“Yeah, that will be fine,” he answered, standing.

“Where are you off to?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

He gazed down at her and smiled, although there was no humour in his eyes. “Going to say goodbye to a friend.” was all he said and left.

Spike made his way cautiously through the streets. He knew this area like the back of his hand, it had been his entire world for all his life and there wasn’t a nook or cranny that he didn’t know of. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t have to be careful. The Syndicate had eyes and ears everywhere, and he was no longer protected as being one of them. There were plenty of people who would gladly sell him out, all for the chance to earn a few dollars.

He made his way as quickly as he could to the address he was seeking. It was Julia’s apartment block but he didn’t go directly there. Instead he positioned himself in the building across from it, one where he had a clear view of the windows of her apartment where they looked out onto the street.

He raised the binoculars he’d purchased along the way to his eyes, taking a moment to focus them so the view across the way became clear. He felt his heart clench as he saw two people in the room, a room that was so familiar to him. He knew the two people there; one was Julia, and behind her stood Vicious. Their faces seemed so close, giving the illusion that he could just reach out and touch them.

Julia was facing the window. She rarely closed the curtains, saying she liked to see the open sky. Now she gazed out the window as though she were looking directly at him, that steady gaze still the same as ever. Her face was expressionless, her honey blond hair falling over her shoulders, moving a little with the breeze.

His hands on the binoculars tightened as he watched as Vicious reached out and slowly lifted her hair, drawing it behind her. His hands then fell to her shoulders, as he dropped his head to kiss her neck. She made no movement at all, not even when his hands moved further to her front to undo the two buttons and pushing the shirt from her shoulders. Spike could only watch as Julia stood there, her breasts unveiled, her upper body bared. Still she made no movement, just standing there.

As Spike continued to watch the action unfold before him, Vicious grabbed her shoulders, spinning her around to face him. One hand tangled in her long hair at the back of her head, pulling it back as Vicious lowered his head and kissed her fiercely. His other hand grabbed at her breast, large hand spanning across it, grasping it all. Julia’s arms still hung by her sides as she stood still and allowed Vicious to fondle her.

Suddenly Vicious released the kiss, said something to her that Spike was unable to make out and then turned and dragged Julia a couple of steps before pushing her down onto the bed.

Although it had pained him, Spike had been unable to stop watching as the woman he loved and his best friend made love. From his slightly elevated position he had a clear view of the bed, he could see everything, to the smallest detail; the closed eyes, the glistening skin, the ripple of muscle, the hands clenched in the sheets, the parted lips. Every rise and fall of Vicious’ body as he thrust into the woman beneath him had made Spike’s eyes burn with tears of rage, frustration and hurt.

Spike remained there all night. He didn’t know if he was unable to move from sheer shock, disbelief, or a perverted sense of voyeurism. Whatever it was he still watched long after the two had fallen into sleep; Julia curled up on her side, long legs drawn close to her chest, Vicious’ arm thrown possessively around her waist, holding her tightly against him. Spike tried not to think that it was similar to how Vicious had once held him, so long ago.

As dawn broke he watched as Julia awoke; pausing for a moment to just gaze out the window as the sun began to make its appearance between the tall buildings. Then she slowly slipped from beneath Vicious’ arm, walking naked to the bathroom and disappearing behind the closed door.

Spike turned his attention to Vicious, still asleep on the bed. His friend’s face was relaxed. He had only ever seen Vicious look like this when he was asleep. Only at this time were the hard edges replaced with something softer. To Spike, it was always like a tiny glimpse of what Vicious might have been if circumstances had been different. It was a moment of hope, and of complete despair in knowing that it would all be gone the moment his friend awoke to reality. Now he just gazed at his friend, naked but for the sheet that was bunched around his waist, broad chest bare, long legs sprawled out. Spike could even make out the scar on his right thigh from that night so long ago.

A moment later Julia returned to the room, wrapped in a towel. Spike watched her dress, remembering all the times that he had done just that, but at those times he was the one in the bed. She dragged a brush through her long hair, then silently exited the apartment with not a single backward glance towards the figure still lying prone on the bed.

Spike lowered the binoculars, chewing on his bottom lip. In no way was Julia acting like she and Vicious were lovers. Their lovemaking had seemed forced, like they were both just going through the motions. Spike knew how Vicious made love, he had seen him do so with many women before and what he had witnessed this night wasn’t how Vicious normally acted.

And Julia….Spike remembered the mornings when she would come over to kneel on the bed beside him, her hair damp from the shower and trailing over his skin as she kissed him lightly. Or even slowly lowered her head to pleasure him in other ways that made it so much better to wake up. She had done none of those things with Vicious. So why was she allowing him to do this? What was going on here?

He carefully checked the street again, watching as Julia exited and flagged down a taxi before getting in. She would be heading for work and would be gone the whole day. Was this why she had refused to go away with him? Had she wanted to be with Vicious? No, no, that didn’t seem quite right, not from the way she had behaved last night. So that meant…

He looked back towards the now distant windows, a frown on his face. Damn Vicious, he thought, beginning to feel the anger returning. Had Vicious had his sights on Julia this whole time? That must be why he’d always been asking so many question about her and what Spike was doing. He’d wanted her for himself!

Spike chuckled darkly to himself, a cynical smile curling his lips. So much for being able to trust his best friend, huh? Vicious had just been waiting for the perfect time to be able to move in and take what he wanted. He knew how determined Vicious could be when he really wanted something. When he was like that he never let anything stand in his way. Obviously a life-long friendship wasn’t an obstacle for him either, the asshole! And he obviously didn’t give a damn about Julia’s feelings either. She didn’t love him, that was more than apparent. What Vicious was doing was damn close to rape!

Well, he wasn’t going to leave it like this. Julia may have rejected him but he wasn’t going to just leave her in this predicament. Vicious was going to learn that he couldn’t always get what he wanted like he always thought

Spike felt the weight of the gun in his pocket as he turned and climbed swiftly down the fire escape and crossed the street to the building opposite. Vicious would pay this time for what he’d done. This time he would learn that there were always consequences, and since friendship meant nothing to him, then Spike would throw it away just as easily!

He was still cautious as he forewent using the rickety elevator and climbed the stairs. It wouldn’t have surprised him if the Syndicate had stationed spotters nearby to keep an eye on Julia. They had been quite well aware of her relationship with Spike so they might expect him to return to her. Then again, they might think that with Vicious here there wasn’t a need for further watchers.

He reached the well-known door and pulled out the key he still held. Vicious was going to be in for a big surprise now.

He inserted the key and turned it, hearing the tiny click as the tumblers fell away. He grasped the knob and turned slowly, opening the door just a crack so he could place one eye to it and view the room beyond. Vicious still lay on the bed, now having rolled onto his back. Spike pushed the door open further and carefully stepped inside. He closed the door softly behind him, being sure to click the lock back into place. He didn’t intend for them to be disturbed by anyone.

He made his way carefully over to the bed, avoiding the creaky board on the floor unconsciously. He knew this apartment well. When he reached the foot of the bed he paused, looking down at the slumbering figure. Vicious must be tired. It was rare that anyone could get this close to him without him coming instantly awake.

The smile on Spike’s face wasn’t pleasant as he drew out the gun and kicked the bed. The jostle it caused did send Vicious sitting bolt upright, eyes wide and hand automatically reaching out for the side board by the bed, no doubt going for a weapon hidden there, but Spike forestalled this action.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Spike said, waving the gun in his hand nonchalantly.

Vicious paused and slowly withdrew his extended hand. Spike may have looked like he wasn’t serious but Vicious knew him all too well to think that a gun in his hand was anything but a toy.

Spike grinned at his friend. “You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“What do you want?” Vicious asked, drawing his knees up and resting his elbows on it. He didn’t ask the redundant question of how did Spike get in. He had more faith in Spike’s abilities than most and since Spike was here it was a moot question anyway. Vicious kept his eyes fixed on Spike, not acting in the least surprised.

Spike casually walked closer to the window, glancing out to be sure there was still no sign of any additional back up for Vicious. Nothing. It seemed like Vicious was truly alone – which suited him fine.

“A little bird told me that you’d taken up nesting,” he said, turning back to his friend. “Isn’t that nice.”

Vicious grinned nastily back, eyes glinting as he ran a hand through his pale hair. “Yeah, isn’t it? Now I know why you liked her. She’s a good lay.”

Spike’s hand clenched around the gun at the burst of rage that filled him and his eyes narrowed. He forced a smile back to his face and laughed hollowly. “You always wanted what I had,” he said, walking around the bed, keeping an eye on Vicious the whole time as he reached into the drawer by the bed and removed the gun nestled there. He tossed it to the other side of the room, well out of reach. “Couldn’t get your own so you had to take mine. Just goes to show I’ve got better tastes.”

“I take what’s offered,” Vicious responded, keeping his eyes fixed on Spike.

Spike cocked one eyebrow as he gazed back sardonically. “Really? That’s not what it looked like to me last night. It must have been like sleeping with a corpse for all that she responded to you.”

Spike leant his hands on the bottom of the bed, feeling it dip a little under his weight as he gazed directly at Vicious, seeing the tell-tale signs of anger beginning to show. He smirked. “I bet you don’t know just how talented she is with her tongue. How she can make you moan with pleasure at her touch. You’ll never hear her call out your name as she comes. Don’t kid yourself. You’re nothing to her.”

“Doesn’t really matter, does it?” Vicious said, glaring at him. “She’s mine now!”

“Only in your dreams!” Spike spat back. “You may as well just rape her and be done with it!”

“I don’t need to,” Vicious responded now with a smarmy smile. “She’ll give me what ever I want, when ever I want.” His eyes glinted. “That’s power, and that’s what I have over her.” He chuckled. “She’ll do anything to protect poor, dear Spike!”

“You bastard!” Spike snapped and swiftly strode around the bed, backhanding Vicious brutally. Was he saying this was all Spike’s fault? Was it because of him that Julia was forced to subject herself to….this?!

Vicious looked back at Spike, reaching up to wipe the trickle of blood from his split lip and smirked. “What’s the matter, Spike? Did you think it was going to be that easy?” He slowly licked his bloodied fingers, one by one, still watching Spike. “You always were such a naïve fool. I knew what you were up to ages before. It was as clear as day what you were thinking of doing, at least to me. But then I’m the one who knows you best, aren’t I?”

“Shut up!” Spike snapped, striking that smiling face again, this time with enough force to knock Vicious down. Had he really been so transparent? Had he been played the whole time? Damn it! Damn him!

Vicious sat back up, using the sheet to wipe his still bleeding face, leaving dark streaks across the linen. He continued to speak, the smile still fixed on his face. “Losing our temper a little, Spike? That’s not like you. Whatever happened to that cool, I-don’t-care countenance? Looks like Julia really can bring all kinds of hidden depths in you.”

“I said, shut the fuck up!” Spike hit Vicious again, then twice more. He was breathing heavily, chest heaving as Vicious now just lay where he had fallen on his back.

“Ha!” Vicious let out a small laugh. “You see, it wasn’t hard to figure any of it out. I knew you were planning to leave, and I knew that you wouldn’t go anywhere without Julia. Now I couldn’t have that happening, could I? I couldn’t lose my best pal.”

Vicious sat up again on the bed, this time swinging his legs over the side to place his feet on the floor as Spike backed up a step, gun still levelled at him. “When I told the Leaders about your plans they were quite upset with you. They liked you, you see, and were a bit put out that their golden-haired boy was intending to go AWOL. They’ve got a rather macabre sense of humour as well. Do you know what they told me?” He paused, waiting for Spike’s reply.

Despite himself, Spike asked, “What?” he grated out.

Vicious grinned again. “They told me that Julia was to kill you.”

“What?!” Spike wasn’t able to hide his shock at that.

Vicious chuckled. “Yep. That’s what they said. They couldn’t have you leaving and even thinking of doing so was a betrayal, so that meant you had to die. And for Julia’s involvement in your little plan the only way she could save herself was to kill you.” He pushed his hair out of his eyes as he watched Spike’s face. “So I came here, put a gun to her head and told her she had two choices; kill you, or die.”

Vicious leant forward then, that tight smile still on his face. “Do you know what she said?” Spike didn’t answer and Vicious didn’t seem to expect him to. His voice dropped lower as he maintained his gaze on Spike’s face. “She said she wasn’t going to go with you. She tore up the note you had left her so I couldn’t read your plans. And she then let me take her. All to protect you.”

“You….!” Spike raised the gun, his hand shaking with rage, teeth clenched as he pictured Vicious threatening Julia and then ravishing her.

Vicious met his gaze squarely. “Are you going to kill me? Is that what you want? Do you think I’m afraid of death.”

The gun in Spike’s hand shook with his anger. He couldn’t recall ever being so angry. Vicious was right; this wasn’t like him at all. Why? Why was he so angry? Was it because Julia wouldn’t go with him? Was it because Julia let Vicious touch her? Was it because Vicious touched Julia? His thoughts spun. He didn’t know. He didn’t know what he was angry about, or who he was angry with. All he knew was that he was angry. Angry enough to kill.

His finger curled tighter around the trigger, pressure beginning to pull it back as he stared down at Vicious’ upturned face, the pale hair falling into his steady eyes. Vicious had been by his side for so long now; he’d save Spike’s ass more times than he could count, though he’d returned the favour just as often. But that was the way it had always been for them. They looked out for each other, had been there for each other, had drunk together, passed out together, bled together.

His finger released the pressure, although he didn’t lower the gun. He couldn’t kill Vicious. It would have been like shooting himself. He couldn’t snuff out the life of this one person who knew him almost better than he knew himself.

A stab of anger returned as the image of Vicious and Julia last night flashed through his mind. But what Vicious had done was still unforgivable! He couldn’t just ignore it, he wasn’t strong enough to do that. And it wasn’t Julia’s fault that she had got caught up in this mess between them. He might not be able to kill Vicious but he could still make him pay in a way that he wouldn’t ever forget!

“No, you’re not afraid of death,” Spike finally said, breaking the heavy silence. “So there wouldn’t be much point in killing you. It doesn’t fix anything, does it?”

“So what then?” Vicious said, still watching him.

“This!” Spike’s long arm snaked forward, catching the corner of the discarded sheet and tossing it over Vicious’ head, tangling him, then he grabbed Vicious’ ankles and flipped him back onto the bed.

Spike swiftly knelt on the bed, straddling Vicious and pulling the sheet taut over the struggling figure, making it even more difficult for Vicious to try and break free. Spike jerked his jacket off, tossing it to one side, before yanking his tie loose. He leant down and grabbed one flailing wrist, then the other and quickly knotted the tie about them, pulling it tight enough that it dug brutally into the flesh, securely binding Vicious’ hands.

Spike then flipped the sheet back and Vicious glared up at him.

“Fucking bastard!” Vicious snarled, trying to roll away.

Spike moved to one side and reached out to grasp the bound wrists and hauled Vicious further up the bed, securing the final end of the binding to the bars of the bed head, effectively imprisoning Vicious flat on his back. Vicious jerked hard against the bonds but Spike was good at what he did and his friend wasn’t going to get out of those bindings that easily.

Spike knelt back and admired his handiwork. Vicious lay completely bared to Spike’s view. It had been a long time since Spike had seen Vicious naked, or been this close to him when he was. Now that lean, long body was completely exposed to him.

He reached out a hand and slowly slid it up those protruding ribs, fingers tracing each and every one that showed through the taut skin. The skin was soft, hot against his touch and he swallowed against a suddenly dry mouth and his hand hesitated for a moment. What was he doing? Perhaps he should just give this up, walk away now? It wasn’t too late.

He began to lean back, away from the bound man, hand lifting from the flesh when Vicious jerked beneath him. Spike blocked the leg that kicked out, capturing it easily, looking down at the still glaring Vicious.

“Don’t touch me, you fucking prick!” Vicious spat. “I’m not some whore!”

Spike gripped the leg tighter as he felt his anger flare anew. “What makes you think you have the right to complain?” he hissed at his friend, eyes narrowed. “I’m only doing exactly what you’ve done to Julia!”

He pushed Vicious’ leg down, shifting further onto the bed so he knelt between Vicious’ spread ones. “I’m going to make sure you know what it feels like!”

“Get off me!” Vicious snarled, twisting against the bonds that held him fast.

Spike ignored him, raising a hand to his mouth and sucking two fingers into his mouth, drawing them in almost to the base. He kept his eyes fixed on Vicious’ face as he withdrew them, liberally licking them, coating them entirely with his saliva.

As he dropped his hand lower, and with his other hand pushed Vicious’ left leg higher and exposing his buttocks Vicious yelled out, “Fuck off, you jerk!”

Spike slid his moistened fingers around Vicious’ entrance, then looked up to meet his friend’s angry gaze. “No,” he said quietly and then shoved his fingers in deep.

Vicious’ arched off the bed with a strangled cry and Spike felt his anus muscles clamp down tightly on his fingers. He fought against the pressure, withdrawing his fingers a little and then pushing forward again, sliding a little further deeper.

“Ugh!” the sound escaped Vicious between his clenched teeth, eyes squeezed shut tightly, brow furrowed as Spike pushed deeper again.

Spike could feel his own body begin to heat up. The feel of Vicious’ hot channel against his invading fingers seemed to sear him, banking a fire that had been smouldering deep inside his soul. He could feel the sweat begin to break out on his brow as he watched Vicious writhe beneath his touch, every jerk and twist of that lean body exciting him further.

“How do you like it?” Spike asked quietly, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of Vicious’ body. He could feel the flesh at the entrance begin to soften as it became accustomed to the stretch, opening Vicious further. “How do you like being taken when you don’t want to? How do you like being forced into doing something you have no desire for? Do you like it?”

“You….think this….does anything….for me?” Vicious grated out, refusing to look at Spike, the tone of his voice indicating his dismissal.

“Really? Then I think we’ll have to rectify that,” Spike said.

He curled his fingers now, questing deeper, searching for that one spot that he knew was close by, and when Vicious let out a sharp cry that was very different from before, his eyes suddenly snapping open with a look of shock as his body trembled beneath Spike’s touch, he knew he’d found it.

“I’m going to control every part of you,” Spike said, dropping his head to gently bite at one of Vicious’ nipples, thrusting forward and continuing to stroke with his fingers against Vicious’ prostate gland. “You are mine to do with as I want and you have no say about it.”

He leant back on his heels again and dropped his gaze now to where Vicious’ cock stood rigidly in the next of dark hair, jerking in time to Spike’s touch, the tip glistening and even as he watched a drop slowly seeped from the slit and fell in seeming slow motion to the rippling stomach. Spike now felt his own erection give a twitch wishing to be freed.

Although Vicious continued to jerk under his ministrations, and his hard cock continued to twitch, Vicious refused to make any other sound after that first cry. He now clamped his lips together firmly, refusing to let any other sound of discomfit emerge. Spike chuckled to himself. That was so like Vicious.

But that wasn’t part of the plan. Spike wanted Vicious to know the humiliation of being forced into such acts against his will. He knew that Vicious considered sex as nothing more than a part of the game; it was always about power and control. Vicious would never have been submissive to any; male or female; he would make certain he was always the one in control of the situation. Now Spike wanted to show him the other side of this power play. He was going to make Vicious completely lose all sense of control and be totally at his mercy. He wanted to see everything that was Vicious laid bare and exposed to him.

He reached down and began to stroke Vicious’ cock, using a slow steady firm grip, deliberately doing it exactly the way that he knew Vicious liked. Despite himself Vicious began to respond, his cock hardening further in Spike’s grasp, his body unconsciously finding pleasure in the touch.

Spike leant down and began to lick Vicious’ nipples, first one, then the other, causing them to harden and rise beneath his touch. The cock in his hand twitched harder, precum sliding against his skin, coating the length so his hand slid smoothly along the slick flesh. Spike smiled around the nipple between his lips as he listened to Vicious’ soft hisses and then suddenly bit, before running his tongue soothingly across the abused flesh. Vicious arched under him in shock and a little pain, before a small moan escaped him.

Spike sat back again, moving away from the distraction that was Vicious’ body. He had to concentrate and go through with this or his revenge would mean nothing. That was the only reason he was doing this. Nothing else.

“See?” he said, concentrating on stroking Vicious’ prostate gland, watching the way Vicious’ pale skin was now flushed pinkly and his breath was coming in hard pants. “Just at a simple touch you are helpless. I can make you go what ever I want, even if you don’t want to.”

“Like…hell!” Vicious gasped out through gritted teeth.

Spike let out a small laugh at his friend’s continued defiance. “Don’t believe me?” He pulled on Vicious’ cock faster, feeling it fill out further as Vicious’ head tipped back. “I can make you cum and you can’t do a thing to stop me!” With that Spike bent to that task, knowing that Vicious was very, very close. Sure enough, he saw the way Vicious began to jerk, the spasming begin around his fingers buried deep within Vicious’ body, the twitching of the hard cock in his hand.

Suddenly Vicious’ entire body arched off the bed as it shook hard, right down the long legs pressed against Spike’s knees, and the cock in Spike’s hand pulsed as long white streams of liquid spurted from the tip and sprayed across the lean body. Spike watched in fascination as the white globules coated that pale skin, as the cock continued to twitch until the last drop fell from the glistening head.

It wasn’t enough for Spike though. He had thought he had only wanted to humiliate Vicious by forcing him to cum against his will, but he knew that this wasn’t nearly enough to really punish Vicious. To do that, he had to own Vicious as no-one had ever done before.

He kept pumping with his hand within Vicious’ body, still aiming for that spot and heard his friend moan deeply. Spike saw the almost limp cock begin to return to hardness, not having had a chance to return to complete flaccidness in the first place.

“Enough….” Vicious growled, glaring up at Spike as he continued to plunder his body.

“No,” Spike said, not breaking their locked gaze. “I don’t think so.”

Spike dropped his hand to the front of his own trousers while his other still tormented Vicious, whose body was beginning to shake again. Spike was rock hard himself and had been for some time, leaking enough precum to moisten the front of his pants. He undid his fly, pushing the material aside and releasing his erection.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Vicious snarled as his eyes went to Spike’s exposed cock.

“Stupid question, don’t you think?” Spike said as he leant forward and positioned his cock against the reddened opening and lifting Vicious’ leg to gain better access.

“Stop it!”

“No,” Spike replied evenly, raising his other hand and spitting in it before lowering it to rub across his erection, closing his eyes briefly at the contact. He reached out and gave Vicious’ still erect cock a few more strokes, before sliding hand downwards to wrap around Vicious’ testicles, giving them a passing gentle squeeze and roll, then tracing down the perineum to the point of contact with the head of his own cock.

“Fuck you!” Vicious managed to snarl, just as Spike thrust forward, feeling the flesh tight against the head of his cock, resisting him for but a moment then feeling it part beneath the pressure as he slid deeper.

“Not this time,” Spike reminded Vicious as he drew back a fraction then pushed forward again, sliding further within. He continued to do this, repeating the motion, leaning into each thrust so he could go deeper and deeper. It was so fucking good!

He went hard and fast, only half hearing the grunts Vicious gave, obviously from pain at this first time intrusion to this place. Spike didn’t know what he should be feeling whilst doing this. He’d always been a considerate lover, or at least tried to be. But this wasn’t about love. It wasn’t even really about sex. It was about power and control. It wasn’t about Vicious’ needs or wants. This was about Spike and his revenge; revenge on Vicious for using Julia as a pawn in his power play, for using Spike as nothing more than a way to get attention from the Leaders of the Syndicate. This was about Spike’s revenge against his friend for casting him aside and destroying his hopes of freedom.

He reached down and furiously began to stroke Vicious’ cock again, feeling it firm within his grasp.

“Shit!” Vicious grunted, arching again beneath him.

Spike suddenly couldn’t bear to see his friend’s face. He pulled out suddenly, fast enough that it made Vicious’ let out a surprised, “Huh?”

He reached down and grabbed Vicious’ leg, rolling him over onto his stomach. The bindings at his wrist swivelled easily, twisting and tightening but allowing the motion. Spike reached down and grasped Vicious’ hips, pulling them upright and forcing Vicious to his knees, raising Vicious’ pale ass high to his view.

“No! Not like this!” Vicious yelled out, anger clearly heard in his voice.

Spike ignored him as he gazed down at the open entrance, then thrust his quivering cock back into that hot channel. He closed his eyes at the feeling of bliss that swept over him, the burst of pure desire that coursed through his mind making him moan. He continued to thrust hard into Vicious’ body, keeping a tight grip on those narrow hips so he could pull them back hard against every forward thrust he made, burying him deeper and deeper each time.

“What….do you think…. any of this….achieves?” Vicious gasped out between each thrust.

“I want…to be free,” Spike grunted, eyes closed shut so as to better savour the feel of the slick skin as his cock slid in and out of Vicious’ tight arse.

“You… idiot!” Vicious moaned as Spike hit his prostate gland again, then spoke again. “The only freedom…..is death!”

“I don’t…..believe that,” Spike replied between gasps, feeling the sweat slide down his back, cooling in the air and making him shiver at the touch of cold.

“Anything else….is an illusion!” Vicious insisted, moaning as Spike curled over his arched back, reaching down and wrapping his hand around Vicious’ cock.

“Then I…. want to dream!” Spike said, thrusting forward one last time as he felt his climax hit and he spilt his seed deep within Vicious’ body, feeling the pulse of Vicious’ cock in his hand as hot liquid coated his hand as Vicious came also.

Spike let the soiled sheet fall to the floor after removing as much of the residue left from his tryst with Vicious, before dressing quickly. It was time to get moving.

Vicious still lay face down on the bed, the tattered remains of Spike’s tie still wrapped around his now freed wrists. It had torn at some time during their final act although neither of them had even noticed.

Spike turned and made his way to the door. There was still a lot to do and if he dawdled too long here there was more chance he would be caught by the Syndicate. It was high time he left this stinking hole of a planet.

“So you’re still going,” Vicious’ voice from behind made him pause. It wasn’t a question, only a statement, but he answered anyway.

“Yeah,”

“You’re a fool.”

A small smile curled Spike’s lips although Vicious wouldn’t have been able to see it. “Yeah.”

He took another couple of steps and opened the door when Vicious spoke again. “I’m the only one who can free you,” he said.

Spike hesitated for a split second then stepped through into the hall. “You too.” He replied as the door swung shut behind him.

He picked up his supplies and headed straight for the space port. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from returning to the graveyard at the appointed time but he hadn’t been at all surprised when Julia hadn’t shown. Everything about his life here had changed now.

He had looked up at the sky wondering what he would find out there. Perhaps Vicious was right. Perhaps freedom was nothing more than an illusion. He checked the board and booked passage on the first ship heading out, no point in waiting. As the ship lifted off he kept his gaze firmly fixed forward as it headed for the distant stars, without another look back.

-oOo-

That had been a long time ago. At least it felt like a long time ago. Time was a funny thing sometimes.

His sight dimmed a little more and his body felt heavy. A hand drew into his line of sight, a pale hand, with long fingers, tiny scars criss-crossing across the back. It continued to crawl forward, slowly, painstakingly, until it finally reached his own out-stretched hand.

As those fingers wrapped around his, Spike felt a wash of warmth through his body. His eyes focussed on the face that drew closer; Vicious. His friend’s steady eyes fixed on his, and he saw Vicious give a small smile.

“I… told you,” Vicious whispered, his voice hoarse. “I’m the only one who could set you free.”

“So you….did,” Spike managed to gasp out, every word painful. He returned the smile, suddenly feeling good for some reason. “Like wise.”

Vicious slid another inch forward, eyes screwing shut with pain as his breath hissed through his clenched teeth. Spike could see the slow trickle of red run from beneath Vicious’ body, reach the edge of that step and fall over the edge to the step below before carrying on its way.

Vicious panted for a little longer, sweat beading his brow as he just looked at Spike. His hand clenched a little tighter around Spike’s, drawing it closer.

“Remember,” he breathed out, bringing their joined hands to his cold lips as he brushed a kiss across the back of Spike’s. “I told you once….I would never let you….go.” Those words seemed to take the last of Vicious’ strength for he could only gasp shallowly for air.

Spike forced his fingers to tighten around Vicious’ hand, trying to hold on as tightly as he could. He wasn’t going to let go this time.

“That’s good,” he managed to whisper. “I don’t….want to let go…either.”

Vicious didn’t reply but the expression on his face as he gazed back at Spike was one that he had thought he would never ever see when Vicious was conscious. It was a look of pure contentment, and the smile that touched his lips was one of gentleness.

Spike felt like his heart would burst for joy. This is what he had been wanting to see all his life. This is what he had been searching for all this time. And it was here, right now before him. Perhaps it had always been there, he’d just never seen it.

He smiled back at Vicious. “No-one can take our freedom away from us.” he said softly.

“No-one.” Vicious responded.

Suddenly Spike remembered Julia’s last words. “It’s all a dream,” she had whispered with her dying breath. He hadn’t understood what she had meant just then but now he thought he did.

Yes, it had all just been a dream; his escape from the Syndicate and his past, his love for Julia and the hope for a better future. His belief he could forget Vicious.

His eyes focussed back on Vicious’ face although he was finding it difficult to see even that far now as the darkness seemed to be closing in rapidly. Vicious’ eyes were now closed also, and Spike could no longer hear those faint breaths.

Yes, up till now it had all been a dream, this was the reality.

And he would take it any day over a dream.

~ End ~

Cowboy Bebop Fic

2007-12-24T10:46:16Z

This was a Xmas gift-fic to jmchau as I knew that she liked the idea of Spike and Vicious - as do I!

Title: Stray Cats
Author: JadeHeart
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Pairing: Spike & Vicious
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: sexual situations, yaoi
Timeline: Begins at end of anime.

Summary: Spike and Vicious were always destined to be together, even to the end.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this, they belong to the creator of ‘Cowboy Bebop’, nor am I making any profits from it.

-oOo-

Spike staggered a little. It seemed that his legs had gone numb somehow, he couldn’t feel his feet at all. It made going down the stairs difficult.

He squinted in the bright light. When did it become so bright? Hadn’t it been dark only a moment ago? Hadn’t it been raining?

Raining…..

Yes, that’s right. He’d gone to meet Julia. How long ago…? Yes, it had been raining, but this time she’d been there. Just like it was supposed to have been all those years ago.

But she was gone now.

One leg buckled under him and he barely prevented himself from falling. He could see the vague shapes further below. He didn’t really pay them much mind. They belonged to the Syndicate, who else would be in here?

He half chuckled to himself. Yes, everyone here belonged to the Syndicate. Even him. He took another heavy step downwards, the smile still on his face.

Yes, the men below, Vicious above, and him. They were all just part of the monster that was the Syndicate. Like a hydra, when you cut down one, more would rise. That was the way of it.

He looked up again at the light streaming downwards. Ah, it felt warm, he thought. How had it come to this? He hadn’t intended to ever come back here, but then he’d realised that it was something he had to do. Before he had run – run from the Syndicate, run from the only life he had known. Run from the woman he had loved, and the one who was like the other half of his soul. He’d just run away. He hadn’t been brave, he hadn’t been some kind of hero to be prepared to leave the Syndicate when no-one did that of their own accord. Not and live to speak of it.

No, he hadn’t been brave at all. In fact, he’d been nothing but a coward. He’d run from it all and what was left of him had been nothing more than a shell, for he’d left everything and everyone he’d ever cared about behind. And without them, he was nothing.

All this time in the outside world, he’d been like nothing more than a walking corpse. That is why he’d had to come back. He’d had to return to where he’d begun to see if he truly had grown beyond this. He had to face his past; the shattered dreams, the screaming nightmares, all that had made him the man he was to find out if it really was worth being alive at all. That is why he’d come back.

So had he done that? Had this proved anything? He half snorted to himself, raising one bloodied hand to point up at the glowing orb of the sun and said softly, "‘Bang”.

There was no reciprocal response, at least not that could be heard, but suddenly his strength gave way and he fell as heavily as though a bullet had ripped through him all the same.

He couldn’t stop his fall. His entire body refused to obey his wishes. He lay there on the steps, unable to move. He was so cold, so very cold. Was this all there was to it? Was this how it was to end?

His mind went over the last desperate fight. He’d had plenty of those in his life; whilst he was in the Syndicate and after. Blood, fear and death were nothing knew to him, they’d been a part of his life from the time he could remember as a rough street kid scavenging on the streets. He and Vicious had been two of kind in that; like two stray cats fighting and scratching to stay alive from day to day.

The smile stayed on his lips as his open eyes stared at the marble that made up the stairs he now rested upon. Yeah, maybe that’s exactly why he’d come back. Somehow it seemed right to end it like this, with Vicious. They had once been inseparable so it would have seemed wrong for one of them to go on when the other didn’t. Yeah, maybe that’s right.

Then again, maybe not. Anyway, who cares? He and Vicious were nothing more than a couple of pawns in this continuing power play. Both of them had wanted to break away from that, they had just chosen different ways to do so. He’d left and run, Vicious had stayed and slaughtered his way to the top.

Different paths, same desire.

He coughed, feeling liquid slide down his chin.

He wanted to get up now. He wanted to reclimb these stairs, back to Vicious’ side. That is where he wanted to be but he couldn’t move. Why did it have to end like this? He didn’t want to be alone. He had thought that he would never be alone again. He and Vicious had once made a pact that they would always be together. It had been made when they were still young, nothing more than children but they had kept that vow for all the years after.

Until he’d left. Couldn’t there have been another way for them? Once he would never have thought it would have come to this between them. Everything else he could have imagined, but never this. This wasn’t how it had been before. Before it had been…….

-oOo-

The bullets whistled overhead, slamming into wood and glass, sending shards cascading downwards to scatter across the floor already strewn with debris.

“Shit!” Spike exclaimed, ducking down again and holding a hand up to protect his face. He felt the slight burning sensation as a sharp piece of glass sliced across the back of his hand.

The hail of bullets ceased for a moment as return shots were fired. He flung himself to his stomach, ignoring the sharp jabs against his body, sliding forward along the edge of the bar until his head rounded the corner so he could see beyond. His gun was up and ready as he added his own hail of bullets towards their opponents. He ducked back as it was retuned again and sat up, back against the counter.

“Here,”

He turned and caught the clip tossed to him. “Thanks,” he said with a grin.

Vicious returned it, his smile slightly more feral in appearance. His brother-in-arms had always been a little more….intense. Perhaps it was only to be expected after the scrawny orphan he’d been had been christened with such a name by the Leaders. Spike had always thought they must have had a rather macabre sense of humour to give them the names they did; Vicious and Spike. What he wouldn’t give to have been a plain old ‘Joe’.

Vicious pushed back his silvery grey hair, leaving a bloody smear across his forehead, darker traces staining the pale strands. He’d begun to grow it long now; Spike thought it suited him. Vicious’ hair had always fascinated him. It was such an unusual colour and he had to admit that he’d never met anyone with that colour anywhere else. It wasn’t blond, nor was it white. Perhaps ash blonde was the closest it could be, according to some bar girl who had commented on it when the two of them had been out drinking one time. It always reminded Spike of gun-smoke; perhaps aptly so although Vicious preferred blades. Spike remembered as a kid always wanting to reach out and touch Vicious’ hair thinking it would be hard and stiff like polished wires yet always amazed at how soft it had been.

“What are you looking at?” Vicious put in, bringing Spike back to the present.

“Nothing in particular,” Spike said languidly, with a small shrug.

“Ha!” Vicious gave a bark of laughter. “Can’t take your eyes off my amazing beauty I bet!”

“Yeah,” Spike answered, raising his hand overhead to shoot off some shots without looking then waiting for the return volley which wasn’t long in coming. “That would be it.”

Vicious shot his own round and sat back beside Spike so their shoulders were touching. “You checked that out?” he suddenly said, nodding towards Spike’s hand.

“What?” He glanced down to see the blood still seeping from the wound he’d sustained earlier.

“Give it here,” Vicious said, reaching out for it. “Better check if there’s any glass left in it.”

Before Spike could react, Vicious leant down and he felt warm lips seal over the wound. He winced at the pressure, then all thoughts of discomfort fled as other sensations flooded through his body, almost overwhelming his senses. He could feel Vicious’ tongue lapping across the cut, sliding over his flesh, the heat seeming to penetrate deep within his body. This heat mixed with the adrenalin already flowing through his veins, mixing together, intensifying deep within his guts. Every nerve ending was tingling, sending tiny jolts of sensation through every part of his being, building…..building…..

His gazed remained fixed on the lowered head, seeing that Vicious’ eyes were closed, his pale hair trailing over his hand making shivers run up his spine. He raised his other hand wanting to tangle his fingers within those pale strands but before he could do so Vicious raised his head, looking up and meeting Spike’s gaze.

Spike could only look back, trying to hold himself in check. Vicious’ lips were tinged with colour from Spike’s blood, contrasting against his pale face and his eyes seemed to gleam with an intensity that captured Spike entirely. As he watched, Vicious’ tongue darted out and slowly ran over his lips, leaving them glistening moistly. Spike couldn’t control the way his half hard erection now fully flourished at the sheer eroticism of this act and the blood pounded loudly in his ears.

“You taste good,” Vicious said in a low voice, one corner of his mouth curling upwards.

He leant in closer to Spike so there was only an inch between their faces, keeping his gaze locked on Spike. Spike thought he was going to drown in those eyes. It felt like he was being devoured by Vicious’ gaze and he knew that he wouldn’t struggle against such a death.

“Got ya,” Vicious then whispered before pulling back with a feral grin and flinging his gun over the counter and firing off some shots, laughing out loud.

Spike tried to get his thoughts back in order. Damn Vicious! It had all just been a game! The problem was that he never knew when his friend was serious or not. He never had. Vicious never let anyone close to him, never showed he really cared about anyone or anything. There was always a need, a hunger within his friend. It had always been there, from the time they had first met, up till now. Vicious wanted something from life, yearned for it with all his being, but Spike didn’t think even Vicious knew what would fill that void.

Vicious threw himself back down beside Spike and they were silent for a moment as the destruction continued around them.

“Doesn’t look like help’s coming,” Vicious finally said as he pulled out the clip from his gun and examined it.

“Nope,” Spike agreed, absently twirling his gun. Not surprising really. In the Syndicate you lived and died by your own wits. If you couldn’t handle a job then you weren’t of much use to them.

“I’m down to my last clip. What about you?” Vicious asked, pushing the clip back into place with a sharp snap.

Spike reached into his jacket pocket, withdrawing and opening his hand to reveal two pieces of chewing gum. “This is my sum total of ammunition.” he said with a crooked grin. “Want one?”

“Sure, why not?” Vicious accepted, popping one piece into his mouth as Spike did the same.

They chewed in silence for a moment as bullets continued to rip into the wood around them. They could feel the vibrations through their backs as they leant against the bar as each slug connected solidly. Spike just sat and watched the destruction flying over their heads as further holes appeared in the wall before them, then ducked as a bullet ricocheted off the metal coffee machine and came a little too close for comfort as it embedded itself in the bar between them.

“They’re getting feisty,” he commented, brushing wood chips from his jacket.

“Impatient,” Vicious replied, voicing his disdain. “So you’re ready?” he asked, looking over at Spike.

He really didn’t need to explain further. Spike was fully aware they were in a really tight spot. They had little ammunition left and were outnumbered and pinned down with no chance of assistance. They either sat here, finished the last of the rounds, and waited to be cut down in cold blood like cowering dogs. Or, they took matters into their own hands and went out in a blaze of glory. In the first scenario their chances were zero. In the second, there was the chance they would at least prove their short existence on this earth had some worth.

Either way they would be dead.

“Ah, well,” Spike said, looking up at the swinging remains of the bar lights overhead. Even as he watched a bullet struck the remains of one, sending another glittering shard to rain downwards. “Things were getting pretty boring any way.” He met Vicious’ gaze and grinned again, holding his gun at the ready. “I’m with you, partner.”

Vicious grinned back. “Let’s do it!”

At that comment they both moved; Vicious leaping over the bar counter, shooting from the apex of his flight until he landed and rolled behind the cover of an overturned table. At the same time, Spike threw himself in the opposite direction, rolling across the floor, shooting as he went until he could huddle for a moment behind some chairs, satisfied with the cries of pain he could hear so he knew that some of their shots had hit home. Let the bastards suffer.

He glanced over to where Vicious was as they both hunkered behind their meagre protection whilst the hail of bullets continued. He felt something strike his shoulder and grunted with pain but could do little else, keeping his eyes fixed only on his partner.

Suddenly Vicious nodded and they both exploded from cover, shooting in unison, coming together so they were shoulder to shoulder to lay down a deadly covering fire, before turning to run and leap onto the booth table on the other side of the room. Spike heard Vicious grunt loudly as they threw themselves through the crazed window, shattering the glass, and bursting into the street.

Spike kept rolling with his fall, ignoring the stabbing pain through his injured shoulder, then springing to his feet and began to run. He glanced behind, expecting to see Vicious right there only to see him still on the ground, struggling to get up. Spike swore, turned and sprinted back to him, skidding to a stop at his side, grabbing one arm to try and pull Vicious to his feet.

A shadow caused him to look up to see one of the assassins climbing through the broken window and he raised his gun to shoot when it clicked empty. The assailant smirked and lifted his own weapon. Spike cursed his luck as he believed he stared at death down that gleaming barrel when from the corner of his eye he saw Vicious’ gun on the ground nearby. He lunged, swept it up, spinning back and blasted a hole into the man’s chest, flinging him back into the room behind.

“Come on,” he commanded, hauling Vicious to his feet and dragging his arm over his shoulders. “It’s time we got outta here!” Unceremoniously he made off at a staggering run, Vicious trying to assist, practically hopping on his one good leg, the other dragging in the snow leaving a wet, dark trail behind.

Now Spike used his knowledge of this home turf to his advantage; heading down side alleys, crawling through fence gaps in what appeared to be dead ends, all the time staying one step ahead of their pursuers. They were being pushed to their limits though, the pursuit was relentless and they had no time to spare. They only stopped once to tie a tourniquet around Vicious’ leg to reduce the bleeding, and wrap a makeshift bandage made from one of Spike’s shirt sleeves around the wound so they wouldn’t leave an easily seen trail. It wasn’t ideal but it was the best they could do.

“Leave me,” Vicious said between gritted teeth as Spike gave the bandage another twist tighter.

“Like hell I will,” Spike replied just as firmly, not even looking up from his handiwork.

“I’m only slowing you down,” Vicious said, reaching out and gripping Spike’s wrist in a vice grip. “Leave me and save yourself. You’ve got a better chance on your own.”

Spike looked up and met his friend’s glare evenly. “It’s not going to happen,” he replied. “I’m not leaving you. And nothing you say is going to make me.”

They stayed like that for a moment longer, gazes locked, then finally Vicious closed his eyes and released his grip. He ran a hand through his hair as he half chuckled. “You always were too soft,” he said in a low voice. “That’s going to be the death of you one day.”

“Maybe,” Spike agreed, tying off the bandage and getting to his feet. He held out one hand to Vicious where he still sat. Vicious looked up at the extended hand, then at Spike’s smiling face. “But that day is not going to be today. Right?”

Vicious just shook his head as he reached up and placed his hand in Spike’s. “I guess not,” he said as Spike hauled him to his feet and then steadied him as he swayed.

Spike grinned at him as he slipped under Vicious’ arm and began to lead them on their way.

They continued on their way, staying ever alert although it seemed they had finally managed to shake their followers. However, it was too early to let their guard down yet so they moved carefully.

Spike was breathing hard now, sweat dripping into his eyes making them sting. The burning fire in his shoulder was hurting intensely but he wasn’t about to let go of Vicious. He had little in this world as it was; no family, no real home. The Syndicate was the closest he had to a home and even then he wasn’t so naïve as to think that he was really needed. He was nothing more than a convenience at the moment and just as easily could be discarded. That’s just the way it was.

The only thing he really had was Vicious. His one friend. The only one he could count on. And he would never let that go.

He leant against the wall and surveyed the area, his breath misting in the cold air although he felt so hot he didn’t really notice the chill.

“What do you see?” Vicious asked, leaning heavily against him and using the wall for extra support.

Spike surveyed the street again. “I can’t see anything,” he replied. “We’re going to have to risk it.” He turned to his friend, reaching for the shoulders. He gazed into Vicious’ face, seeing the tiredness etched there. He knew his friend was close to the end of his strength. “Ready?”

Vicious looked up at him through a veil of pale hair. He really should get it cut again, Spike thought absently, holding the shoulders before him. “Yeah. Give us a hand and let’s do it.”

Spike supported Vicious once more and they cautiously stepped out of the meagre protection of the alley and began to slowly cross the wide street.

“I feel like a sitting duck,” Vicious mumbled under his breath, his voice harsh with tension.

“As long as it’s not open season we’re good’,” Spike murmured in reply, eyes darting from side to side, constantly on the look out for trouble.

They reached the apartment block before them but still didn’t relax. They entered and made their painstaking way up the stairs just as cautiously. When they finally reached their destination Vicious was breathing so hard he was almost hyperventilating and his face was far paler than Spike had ever seen it.

“You doing okay?” Spike queried as he knelt down and long fingers scrabbled around in the crack in the wall and finally breathed a sigh of relief when they touched cold metal and he withdrew a key.

Vicious grinned at him, more just a baring of teeth, chest still rising and falling as he strained for air. “I’m good. Though I’d kill for a drink!”

“You and me both,” Spike agreed, slipping the key in the lock and turning it. “Wait here,” he instructed, slowly pushing the door open, standing to one side as he did so.

All remained quiet and with a small nod to Vicious, Spike slid around the door jamb into the room beyond. He paused for a moment and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. All remained silent nothing stirred. He strained his ears but could hear nothing else moving in the apartment. He cautiously moved forward and checked the entire place out. When he’d done so he returned to the front and looked out. Vicious still remained where he’d left him, although now his eyes were closed.

“Thought you might have passed out,” Spike said.

“Nah,” Vicious replied, opening his eyes. “Do you think I’d be willing to lie down in this crap?”

Spike dragged Vicious’ arm over his shoulder once more and escorted his friend inside, immediately closing the door behind them and slipping into place the three locks. He didn’t turn any of the main lights on and went immediately to the bathroom before turning that on as it had no window to the outside to betray their presence. This may be a ‘safe house’ for the Syndicate, one of many in the city, but Spike wasn’t about to take any chance that their enemies may also know of it and be around to check at some point. So he and Vicious had to go softly-softly at the moment.

He sat Vicious on the toilet seat, kneeling before him to begin unwrapping the bandages, hearing Vicious hiss as the dried blood was pulled away with the cloth.

“Shit, that hurts!” he said through gritted teeth.

“It’s gonna hurt more in a minute,” Spike said, turning and opening up the vanity cabinet behind. Sure enough, there was a large metal box there. He dragged it across closer and opened it, gazing at the well laid out medical supplies. As a ‘safe house’ the Syndicate ensured that the place was well stocked with items that were likely to be needed; which meant medical supplies, food, and drink.

“Don’t worry. The bullet went right through,” Spike said, looking at the wound. “So we’ve just got to disinfect it and bandage it up. Get your gear off.”

“You just want a chance to get into my pants,” said Vicious with a strained laugh as he undid his belt and began to try and stand to slip his trousers off.

“’Course,” Spike relied amicably. “How could I resist the temptation?” He reached out and forestalled Vicious’ struggle. “So allow me to assist you.”

He pushed Vicious gently back so he leant against the cistern and reached for the waist of the trousers, undoing the button and sliding the zip down, trying to ignore the soft bulge that he could feel beneath his hand as he drew the zipper downwards.

“Lift your hips,” he instructed which Vicious did, using his hands to support himself.

Spike reached behind and gripped the waist band, pulling downwards so the pants slid over Vicious’ arse and slim hips. He continued dragging them lower, down those long, muscular legs. Vicious’ skin was pale, he’d never been one to tan easily.

As he drew the clothing down Vicious’ legs, Spike could feel his knuckles brushing against the warm flesh all the way down their length, the heat from Vicious’ body seeming to sear his hands. The skin felt soft and made Spike yearn to touch it further; to stroke that smoothness.

When Vicious’ pants were completely removed, Spike passed up a bottle to him. “Start drinking,” he said. “It might deaden the pain a little.”

“Thanks,” Vicious reached out and took the bottle, immediately breaking the seal and taking large gulping swallows from the amber liquid, whilst Spike stood to fill a bowl with warm water.

“Easy,” Spike warned, picking up some gauze and forceps. “You’re gonna throw up otherwise. It’s just to take the edge off.”

“It would take more than that to make me chuck up,” Vicious replied. He took another couple of deep swallows then leant back and closed his eyes, saying, “Okay, get on with it.”

Spike leant forward to examine the exposed wound. It was still slowly seeping dark blood, the edges torn and jagged flesh. He began to clean the area, wiping away the blood and grime, the water quickly turning a dirty brown shade. He could now see that there appeared to be some material within the wound.

He looked up at Vicious. “I’m going to have to dig around a bit. Think you can handle it?”

Vicious opened his eyes and met Spike’s gaze, before lifting the bottle and taking another deep drink. “Do it,” he said, closing his eyes again.

Spike swept the wound clean again and moved the forceps into position. He paused for a brief moment and then plunged in, aiming for the edge of the tiny remanent of cloth he could see. He heard Vicious’ strangled cry, and out of the corner of his eye could see his friend’s hand tightened around the neck of the bottle so the knuckles turned white.

He kept focused on the job and kept probing until finally he held up the instrument in his hand with the bloodied remains he’d been seeking. He dropped them into the bowl and began to swab the re-opened wound. It was good that it was bleeding anew; it meant that it would help flush anything else that had been pushed into the wound and hopefully reduce the possibility of infection.

When he was satisfied he liberally poured the disinfectant over it and began to reapply a pressure bandage. Once that was complete, he leant back on his heels.

“How’s that?” he asked, looking up at Vicious.

Vicious was breathing rapidly and Spike could see the tiny trickle of blood that ran from where he had obviously bitten his lip to prevent from crying out.

“You……would make a crap doctor,” Vicious gasped out, giving a cough and raising the bottle once more with a shaking hand. Spike could see the beads of sweat that covered his friend’s face, a droplet sliding from Vicious’ temple and down his stretched back throat as he drank.

He knelt up and reached out with a clean damp cloth and began to wipe Vicious’ face, cleaning away the bloody smear on his forehead at the same time. Vicious closed his eyes for a moment and seemed to lean into Spike’s touch. They remained in silence as Spike continued his task; slow, soft motions, over Vicious face, then down that long pale throat. Spike could feel Vicious’ pulse vibrate against his hand as he passed over it. He continued downwards, lingering for a moment to trace the contours of the two wings of Vicious’ collarbone, pausing for a heartbeat at the hollow of the throat.

Spike found he was now leaning right in close to Vicious, kneeling between his legs and stretching forward to touch Vicious’ half-reclining figure. He was breathing heavily, feeling like his blood was beginning to boil within his veins from some form of inner inferno. He felt himself lean in even closer, his fingers continuing their journey across Vicious’ throat, both hands seeking more of that flesh. Suddenly he realised that his lips were almost touching Vicious’ neck and he jerked back in shock.

At that moment Vicious opened his eyes and they just looked at each other in silence. Then Vicious sat up, pushing his hair back.

‘”What about you?” he asked Spike, reaching out to touch his shoulder. His hand came away bloodied.

Spike winced as he tried to shrug away. “It’s fine.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Vicious admonished curtly. “Turn around and get your shirt off.”

Spike was going to argue but the look in Vicious’ eyes told him it wouldn’t be a wise move so instead he turned so his back was to his friend as he sat on the floor. Vicious helped him shrug out of first his jacket and then his tattered shirt before examining the wound. Spike tried not to be too self-conscious of the touch of Vicious’ hand laid flat against his bare back, the heat that was building under that touch that sent corresponding fires through his own body which was beginning to make him more than a little uncomfortable in certain areas.

“You know it’s still in there?” Vicious suddenly said, his fingers lightly touching around the wound.

Spike couldn’t prevent the shiver that shook him as he answered, “Yeah. Thought it was.”

“There’s no helping it then,” Vicious said. “Better change that water and get this over with.”

Spike stood and tipped the stained water down the sink before rinsing the bowl thoroughly and refilling it. When he turned he saw that Vicious had already leant down to rummage through the first aid kit and pull out what he needed.

Spike set the bowl down on the edge of the bath within easy reach for Vicious and reseated himself before him.

“Here,” Vicious said, holding a piece of wadded bandages over Spike’s shoulder. Spike looked back at him. “Bite on it so you don’t bite your tongue. I’m going to have to cut it out.” Spike took it, then Vicious passed the bottle as well. “Take a slug of that too.”

Spike did as instructed, swallowing the burning amber liquid, feeling it scalding his throat and hitting his empty stomach hard. He took another couple of long drinks before setting it aside and placing the wad firmly between his teeth. He tried not to tense up, knowing if he did it was liable to hurt even more but it was hard to force his body to obey him. It knew that it was going to hurt!

He took a couple of deep calming breaths through his nose and felt the cold slice against his flesh, before the blossoming of pain that made his whole body clench up. His hands clenched, one gripping the neck of the bottle within its grasp, the other digging into his own leg. He couldn’t stop the moan that escaped him. If he hadn’t been biting down so hard on the bandages between his teeth he would have been screaming.

Vicious continued to work in silence and Spike was beginning to think he wouldn’t be able to take much more when he heard the other’s pleased “Got it,”, followed by a tinkling sound of something dropped into the metal pan beside him. Spike slumped forward then, the wad slipping from between his teeth to fall to the floor. He was breathing hard and his vision was still fading in and out almost in time to the throbbing in his shoulder. Something was dabbed on the wound but the pain that generated was negligible compared to what it had been previously.

Vicious placed a taped pressure bandage to the wound and gave Spike’s back a final pat. “There, all done.”

Spike leant back, feeling the coldness of the toilet against his sweat slick back. “Thanks,” he gasped out. He then felt a warmth on either side of him against his arms where they hung by his side. He cracked an eye open and saw that Vicious had moved and now his legs were pressed against Spike, caging him in.

He felt long fingers slide past his ear, circling around his jaw, brushing against the soft underside. Slowly his head was tipped back, stretching his neck taut and he opened his eyes to find himself looking directly into Vicious’.

His friend was leaning over him, his pale hair falling forward like a curtain; their faces almost close enough for the tips to brush across Spike’s cheeks. He could feel the warmth of Vicious’ breath gusting against his skin as that intense gaze probed deep within his soul.

Slowly, Vicious lowered his head; so slowly that Spike was tense with anticipation when finally their lips met. He didn’t close his eyes. He feared that if he did he would find that this was all nothing but a dream.

Vicious held the kiss for only a moment before raising his head and straightening up. He continued to gaze down at Spike who remained where he was, looking up at him.

“This is crap,” Vicious suddenly said. “Help me up,” he motioned to Spike. “My ass is freezing.”

Spike gave a crooked smile and twisted round to his knees before standing and grasping Vicious’ extended hand and yanking him to his feet. “Want me to warm it up for you?” he said jokingly as he slipped an arm around his friend’s waist and began to help him hobble out into the other darkened room.

He suddenly felt himself pushed from behind and toppled forward to fall heavily on the old spring bed pushed to the side of the wall. “Hey,” he began, rolling over.

Vicious remained standing by the bed, not speaking, just looking down at him. Suddenly his hand dove downwards and slid into the front pocket of Spike’s trousers.

“Hey, hey!!” Spike said hurriedly, grabbing at the slim wrist and trying to twist away.

“Stop squirming,” Vicious stated, long fingers delving deeper.

“Shit!” Spike groaned as he couldn’t prevent himself arching into that touch with a groan. He knew Vicious would be able to feel his stiff erection, there was no hiding it. Well, what did he expect? Between the adrenalin from the recent fight, the alcohol flooding their systems, and that kiss, how could he not be hard?

Suddenly Vicious withdrew his hand and Spike felt a wave of disappointment. He heard a clicking and opened his eyes to see Vicious leaning over to light the two candles stuck on saucers on the wooden crate set by the bed. He finished the task and turned around, holding up the lighter so Spike could see it was his. “You get excited easily, don’t you?” he said, barring his teeth.

“You bastard!” Spike snarled and swung his long legs off the bed and stood with one fluid motion. What a damned fool he’d just made of himself when Vicious had simply been going for his lighter!

He had only managed to take two steps when strong arms wrapped around his torso, holding him in place and preventing his escape. He could feel Vicious pressed up hard behind him, the roughness of his hands from the many calluses as they glided over his flesh. He couldn’t hold back the gasp as one reached his right nipple, caressing it, gripping it between thumb and forefinger, rolling it, rubbing it, squeezing so he involuntarily rose onto his toes as he sought to press into that sensation. The other hand was running down his sternum, moving out to trace across each rib, reaching lower to slide over his jutting hip bone just above the waist of his low hung trousers.

“Vicious,” he mumbled. “Don’t be a prick. Let me go.” He had to try and salvage something of his dignity this night. He’d been made a fool of too many times already but even though that is what he thought, he could feel his body reacting to that hard demanding touch.

He felt hot lips press against his good shoulder then a moist tongue languidly lick a trail along skin, followed by sharp nips against the nape of his neck and up to his hair line that made him shiver uncontrollably. The deep groan that fell from his lips told all too clearly how much it was affecting him. That and the rock hard erection that was straining against his pants.

“I won’t let you go,” Vicious’ words sounded in his ear like the whisper of an incubus. Another agonisingly slow lick circled around that aural appendage before sharp teeth bit against the lobe suddenly making Spike cry out in surprise at the sudden stab of pain before it was soothed away once more. “I’ll never let you go.”

It sounded like a promise; a promise of forever but Spike didn’t have time to ponder it any longer as Vicious’ other hand had now slid down his taut stomach, between skin and trousers to circle around his erection.

“Urgh!” Spike uttered, doubling over as his body tried to draw away at the intense pleasure yet attempt to thrust forward into that touch at the same time. Vicious mercilessly began to stroke him, slowly at first and then squeezing harder.

“Damn….you…” Spike gasped out, hips snapping forward as his head dropped back to rest on Vicious’ shoulder.

Vicious’ hand on his nipple continued to pleasure him whilst kisses were pressed against the side of his neck. He felt the hand in his pants withdraw for a moment to yank hard at the waist band, snapping the button and then grabbing the zipper and pulling it down so forcefully that the trousers pulled down lower so they slipped over Spike’s hips, sliding to his knees. Before Spike could protest, that hand had once again wrapped around his cock.

“You’re so wet,” Vicious murmured in Spike’s ear as his hand began to stroke faster making Spike’s hips snap forward unconsciously.

“Shut up!” Spike managed to get out before he spoiled the effect with a deep moan. One hand had risen to tangle in Vicious’ soft hair, holding that warm hungry mouth to his flesh whilst his other dropped to wrap around the hand holding his cock.

“I’m going to make you scream for me,” Vicious whispered against Spike’s skin. “I’m going to make you beg for me like a woman.”

That snapped Spike out of the pleasure soaked haze he had been in. He was no fucking woman and damned if he was going to let Vicious think otherwise!

He shrugged Vicious away from him, spinning around and gripping the front of Vicious’ shirt, bunching the material into his fist. He glared at his friend, not caring that he stood there with trousers around his knees and upright erection dripping precum, clear evidence of just how into it he had been.

“I’m no fucking bitch!” he snarled, giving Vicious a shake, anger making his voice rough. “Don’t you dare think you can treat me like that!”

“But you’re so pretty,” Vicious said with cold smile, not appearing concerned by Spike’s sudden burst of anger.

Spike felt his rage flare higher. Reaching out he gripped Vicious’ shirt with his other hand also and yanked, sending buttons raining down to the floor as the shirt separated and bared the pale lean expanse of Viscous’ chest to his view. The force of his act had pulled the shirt off the shoulders and half down Vicious’ arms, effectively pinning them for the moment.

They remained standing like that, face to face, so close their chests almost brushed as they breathed deeply. Spike could feel the heat emanating from Vicious’ body they stood so near.

“So now what are you planning to do?” The smile still remained on Vicious’ face which only served to infuriate Spike further. That bastard! Was he still laughing at him? Was he still treating him with such disdain? He’d show him otherwise!

He reached up with one hand and wound it around the back of Vicious’ neck, tangling fingers within the long hair and gripping it hard enough to hurt. He pulled his friend in close, jerking him so he lost his balance and fell heavily against Spike’s chest as he crushed their lips together.

He thrust his tongue forward, delving deeply into Vicious’ mouth, teeth biting at the lips hard enough to almost draw blood. He withdrew only to yank back Vicious’ head, exposing the pale column of his neck and dropping his lips to that soft flesh, ravishing it.

His other hand now let go of the shirt it had been gripping and quested down and between their bodies, seeking and finding the bulge between Vicious’ legs, a bulge that was hard and firm within Spike’s grip. He ruthlessly began to stroke it, sliding his hand up and down the shaft, feeling the pooling moisture at the tip through Vicious’ jocks.

He felt Vicious’ head drop forward to rest his forehead against Spike’s shoulder as a groan slipped out and his hips thrust into Spike’s hand.

“Still think of me as a woman?” he snarled softly against Vicious’ head, nipping at his ear.

“A woman…..” Vicious moaned again. “Doesn’t have….this!” and his hand wrapped around Spike’s aching cock.

At that touch Spike couldn’t stop his own hand from spasming in response, squeezing Vicious’ erection so they moaned in unison and leant heavily against each other.

“Is this…..,” Spike said, lifting his head to gaze up at the ceiling as his hips thrust into Vicious’ grasp. “Because we’re drunk?”

Vicious raised his head and captured Spike’s lips in another deep kiss, tongue plundering his mouth and stealing his breath. When he broke away he responded. “Does it matter?” he said, his voice low and husky.

Spike pondered that for a brief moment then closed his eyes and answered, “I guess not.”

“Enough,” Vicious then said, pushing Spike back a little and holding him at a distance.

“What?” Spike questioned. What had gone wrong? “Suddenly shy?” he half mocked.

Vicious’ smirk showed no indication of shyness at all, and the fact that his hand still remained firmly encircling Spike’s rigid cock indicated that that wasn’t the problem.

“Strip,” Vicious ordered.

“You first,” Spike countered.

“I’ve got less on than you,” which was true for as Vicious dropped his arms, the torn remains of his shirt slithered from his body to pool on the floor so he stood only in his stained underwear.

“You’ve got me there,” Spike admitted and reached down to push his pants down completely, stepping out of them.

“And the rest,” Vicious indicated.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Race you,” he smirked as he gripped the top of his briefs and began to pull them down. Vicious mirrored the gesture and they were both fully naked in a blink of an eye. They stood there for a moment, grinning stupidly at each other, naked bodies gleaming with sweat and full erections twitching.

“Come here,” Vicious finally said gruffly, reaching out and grabbing Spike’s good shoulder, drawing him in closely so their bodies pressed against each other.

They entered into a kiss again, a burning kiss where they explored each other’s depths with everything they had. All the time their hands roamed over their skin; touching, pinching, squeezing, stroking. Vicious returned to playing with Spike’s nipples whist he slid his hands around Vicious to trail down the bony spine, along the dip of the lower back, slick with sweat, to grip the firm roundness of Vicious’ arse. He kneaded this full flesh, digging his fingers in and pushing Vicious’ pelvis tighter against his.

They both groaned as their entrapped erections rubbed against not just their bodies but against each other, the precum smearing between them as a lubricant making the motions smoother that only added to their pleasure.

Vicious moved one hand to between their bodies and gripped both their upright erections together, enclosing them both in his grip. He began to stroke, hips thrusting in time. Spike groaned deeply and did the same, his hand wrapping around over the top of Vicious’. With both of their hands, not a portion of their cocks were not being held, the pressure encircling them completely.

The sound of their breathing was loud in the silence, becoming more ragged, punctuated with gasps and deep moans.

“I…..I’m coming!” Spike gasped out, hips snapping forward as he felt that familiar sensation beginning to build right from his toes. His entire body was shaking and he was forced to hold onto to Vicious tightly to prevent himself from falling. “I’m coming!”

He threw his head back with a cry and felt Vicious bury his head at the base of his throat, and could hear the groan and deep cry that tore from his throat at the same time as he felt the pulsing begin in his cock as he ejaculated, each spasm jerking his body forward. In their combined grip he could feel a corresponding pulse and knew that Vicious was coming also. They could do nothing more than hold fast to each other as they climaxed together, prey to their bodies needs, until the last drop had been wrung from them.

Spike’s knees trembled as he gasped, feeling the sweat soaked hair plastered to his brow. Suddenly his support vanished as Vicious stepped away, but before he could do more than let out a cry of surprise and begin to tip forward a hard hand gripped his upper arm and propelled him further forward so he fell upon the bed with a grunt.

He rolled to his side, injured shoulder away from the bed, and looked up as Vicious knelt on his good leg on the bed, his injured one still stretched down to the floor.

“What…?” he began when Vicious reached out and grabbed his limp cock and began to stroke him firmly. He groaned and was almost shocked when he immediately hardened in that grip. “Aw, shit,” he muttered, closing his eyes and thrusting up into the hand that continued to pleasure him.

He opened his eyes again to see that Vicious was hard also, his erection glistening in the dim lighting, still smeared with their earlier secretions.

“Did you think that would be enough for me?” Vicious said hoarsely, his eyes glinting as though lit with an inner fire.

His other hand now brushed against Spike’s buttocks, ghosting over the flesh.

“Ha..!” Spike tried to move away from that questing touch but the hand expertly jerking him off prevented anything more than a token resistance as he succumbed once more to the pleasure he was receiving.

He felt one long slick finger slide easily down the crack of his arse, probing for the entrance it was seeking. It found its goal soon enough and without any further ado slid smoothly inside. Spike realised then, even as his back arched at the intrusion, the slight burning sensation mixing with the pleasure on his cock, that Vicious was using their mixed semen as a lubricant.

He could feel Vicious’ finger delving deeper within him, moving and curling inside, making him squirm in discomfit. Then suddenly that digit touched something deep within him and he let out a high cry of pure pleasure as his eyes widened in shock. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what Vicious had just found but he still had been unprepared for the jolt of pure desire and need that shot through his entire body and sent his blood pounding.

Vicious was merciless, stroking that point over and over again, unerringly finding it. Spike was writhing madly, unable to hold still, all the time Vicious continued to pull on his cock that seemed to feel like it was going to burst.

“Argh!” Spike gasped out. “Vicious!” He reached up behind him, hands scrabbling until they found purchase, wrapping around the metal bed head and holding on tightly so he could push back against that hand that continued to plunder his depths and draw out such exquisite pleasure.

He felt that tingling begin. Damn it, how could he be coming again so soon?! “I’m….” Spike began to say when suddenly the hand on his cock clamped down hard on the base, squeezing so tightly that the stab of pain was enough to interrupt the waves of pleasure running through him. “Ahh!”

“Not yet,” Vicious growled, glaring at him, eyes almost wild. Spike felt the hand leave his arse and he moaned at the loss as he suddenly felt so…empty.

Vicious grabbed his top leg, lifting it so it rested over his shoulder, shuffling forward so he knelt on his one good leg, straddling Spike’s bottom leg resting on the bed. Spike felt Vicious’ cock nudge against his entrance as he settled himself, leaning forward so he was positioned correctly.

“Hold on,” Vicious said in a harsh voice and thrust forward to bury himself within Spike in one hard motion.

Spike couldn’t prevent the shout of pain at this sudden intrusion. His body felt like it was splitting apart, with no relief, the burning building and continuing to build and he moaned. “Get it….out!” he gasped out, trying to push against Vicious.

“No,” was the only answer he got as his leg was lifted higher and the pressure in his arse intensified as Vicious’ cock plunged even deeper within him.

“Arghhhh!” the strangled cry fell from him. It felt like he was going to die.

A hand wrapped around his flagging erection and began to stroke him once more. Pleasure flared anew, fighting against, then merging with the pain that still permeated him. Vicious began to move then, sliding in and out of Spike’s arse, the movement becoming smoother. Tiny bolts of desire began to initiate deep within Spike, all centred around Vicious’ actions. Those tiny sensations began to grow, each small spark beginning to develop into a bonfire, increasing slowly but surely.

Suddenly Vicious hit that spot once more; that spot that sent Spike’s senses reeling and spinning out of control so the only thing that mattered was to feel that desire over and over again. His hands returned to the bed head and he held on as Vicious began to pound harder, his hand pulling on Spike’s dripping cock. Spike could hear Vicious’ heavy breathing, the gasps and occasional groans as he continued to thrust within Spike’s now malleable body.

“Good,” he heard Vicious murmur. “So fucking good!”

Spike couldn’t say anything in return. All speech had left him now. All he was capable of was the cries of pleasure that begged for more.

He felt the sensations build again, rushing in upon him and he knew that there was no way it could be halted this time. He wasn’t even able to conjure up any words to forewarn Vicious but it seemed that there was no need for he felt Vicious stiffen above him also. Just as his back arched up so hard that it felt like he would break it in two and he emptied his load across his own body, splattering abdomen, chest and even to his chin with a loud cry of completion, Vicious gave one last thrust, holding himself deep within Spike, the hand gripping Spike’s upraised leg so hard the fingers dug in deeply to the flesh, and Spike felt the warm flood of liquid filling him from inside as Vicious’ almost animalistic cry sounded through the room as his body shook.

When Spike took note of his surroundings again they were still in darkness. He still lay on his side on the bed, only this time Vicious lay spooned behind him, one arm thrown around his waist. From his breathing Spike realised his friend was asleep. Not surprising. Loss of blood, alcohol, and then the exertion that followed would be enough to make anyone tired. Spike felt something leak from his arse. Vicious’ release, still held deep within the recesses of his body. It would slowly seep out and disappear, just like the events of this night would most likely do.

Spike sighed softly. In the morning it would all be back to normal. He and Vicious would return to the Syndicate having survived another day. They would continue to watch each other’s back, standing by each other’s side. None of that would change.

Spike let his eyes drift shut. And that was the problem. For he knew that although Vicious was the only thing in his life that mattered to him, it wasn’t the same for his friend. Vicious didn’t need anyone, he didn’t want anyone. Spike knew that, so all he could do was stay by his friend’s side.

That would have to be enough.

L/R Licensed By Royalty Fiction

2007-12-24T10:41:32Z

This was a short little "friendship fic" for despina_moon to say thanks for being such a great friend through the year!

Title: The Giving of Gifts
Author: JadeHeart
Fandom: L/R – Licensed by Royalty
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen
Spoilers/Timeline: end of anime

Summary: The festive season signals the end of the year, and Jack and Rowe look for closure in both their business and personal lives.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this, they belong to the creator of ‘L/R: Licensed by Royalty’, nor am I making any profits from it.

-oOo-

The flame still flickered from the lighter clutched in the outstretched hand.

Jack walked slowly past the supine figure, his expensive shoes making little sound on the pavement. He stopped, gazing down at that tiny lingering flame that refused to go out in the lightly falling snow. He crouched down, elbows resting on knees, hands hanging between them, eyes still fixed on that single light. Then he leant down lower and blew gently, snuffing it out completely as nature had not been able to.

He stood and walked steadily back to the car where he reached in and pulled out the cigarette lighter, speaking into it.

“Claire,”

“Yes, Jack? Where are you? Dinner will be ready soon.”

“It may have to be delayed a little.” Jack said evenly, turning and leaning against the door.

“Why? What’s happened?”

He could hear the concern in her voice. “We found Frost. Or should I say, he finally found us. Can you let Mister know we will require some clean up? The morgue can have a present for Christmas.”

“Are you all right?”

“Perfectly. He wasn’t a particularly good shot.” Though he glanced over his shoulder at the hole in the interior side of the driver’s door and sighed. More maintenance work to do; it seemed never ending. Oh, well, it gave him something to do.

“The clean up crew is on its way now and should be with you shortly.” Claire’s professional voice crackled over the transmitter.

At that moment Jack heard the sound of engines and looked up the till then quiet street. “How many did you dispatch?” he asked, hand slipping easily inside his jacket to grip the butt of his holstered gun.

“Three,” Claire replied.

“Then they made good time.” he responded, releasing the gun and instead withdrawing a packet of cigarettes.

“Is there anything else you need?” she asked him.

“No, thank you. This will do quite nicely.” He lit a cigarette and watched the smoke twist upwards in the cold air.

“Well, hurry home.” She almost ordered.

He smiled to himself. “Have the brandy warming and I’ll be there soon.”

“What about Rowe? Have you seen him?”

“He….may be a little late,” Jack said, not looking at the second still figure on the ground.

The cars had reached him by this time and so he said, “See you later, Claire. Duty calls.”, and hung up, stepping forward to greet the first man to alight.

“Thought there was only one?” this new arrival said, looking over the scene behind the dark glasses.

Jack smiled at him. ‘”You just deal with that one,” he said with a smooth smile, pointing to the other still form on the ground away from Rowe. “I’ll take care of the other.”

“If you’re sure. It’s just as easy to do two as one.”

“No, no, I wouldn’t want to delay you any further on this holiday. Just carry on as required.”

They walked across to the body and the other agent looked down dispassionately at the distorted face; glasses askew, mouth slack, blank eyes open and unseeing. A bullet hole was directly over the heart.

“Good shot,” he commented professionally.

“Thank you,” Jack said modestly.

“He never did look much, did he?” the man commented again.

Jack answered. “Not really, but he was under the mistaken assumption that money was the answer to everything, and gave him permission to do anything.”

“Not surprising with who his father was.”

“True.”

“Well, not to worry. We’ll bag him and sort out the red tape from here.”

“Thank you. That is most kind of you.”

Jack stepped back as the other man waved his colleagues forward. They quickly took photos of the scene, searched the body thoroughly and lifted it into a black body bag. As the zip swiftly ran up and sealed over Frost’s face, Jack’s hand rose of its own accord to touch the earring on his left ear. Rest in peace, Clau, he thought, watching the bag lifted and pushed without ceremony into the back of the black station wagon between the two sleek black sedans. As the door slammed shut he felt as though the tension in the muscles across his shoulders finally released. Perhaps he’d been needing this closure for a long time.

As the cars disappeared, leaving the street empty once more, Jack sighed again. hanging his head for a moment. It was finally over. The whole Angel episode which began far before Cloud 7 had realized it actually had. In fact, it had all begun 15 years ago, long before he had even joined Cloud 7. It was funny how it had all come together at the end, the curtain falling on the final act and closing this play for good. However, there had still been one last loose end that needed to be dealt with to ensure there would be no encore. It had needed Frost to be finally disposed off in no uncertain terms so there was no way anything could carry on.

Now it was finally finished with; Frost wouldn’t be coming back to trouble anyone. His father would be too old by the time he finished his lengthy jail term, if he didn’t die in prison. The worry had always been that young Frost would still be a danger as his term would be far shorter as he hadn’t had anything to do with the original issue of the murder of Prince Spada’s brother. So he would only spend a few years in jail due to his more recent involvements, and some of that would have been hard to prove. There had been no guarantee that the frame-up would actually stick in court so that couldn’t be relied upon.

And despite Frost’s ridiculous and uncouth appearance, he was clever enough and had enough money to access, to employ smarter people to get what he wanted. They knew that they hadn’t yet found all the finances of DTI. What had been known of had been immediately frozen, much going to the Royals, with a substantial proportion going into trust for Ivory Island which had resulted in a far better lifestyle for the inhabitants.

But there was bound to be more around that they hadn’t been able to trace yet. Whatever you wanted to think of Taylor and DTI, he had been a shrewd business man. Crooked as all hell, but still shrewd and he knew how to make money, usually by ill means but he did make money. He wouldn’t have been so foolish as to hide it all in plain sight. It was a given that a substantial portion would have been getting filtered off to avoid the high tax on it. Which meant that most likely Frost would know about those hidden funds, and be able to access them for his own use. And with that kind of money backing him, that would make him a dangerous man. He was petty enough to want revenge on all those who had crossed him during these events and it was Cloud 7’s responsibility to ensure that he didn’t get the chance to do that.

That is what they had known would happen, so they’d been forced to take this unsavoury action. It hadn’t been nice or clean, or noble in any way, but it got the job done as it needed to be. To know that this entire episode was closed forever, Frost was the last remaining strand in the loom that had to be severed. Which was finally done.

He turned and paused a moment as he opened the door of the car.

“Isn’t it a little cold to be lying there in this weather?” he said calmly as he slid into the seat.

He watched Rowe sit up in the rear view mirror, one hand scrubbing though his hair and brushing the dirt and melted snow from his face, a lop sided grin on his face. He grimaced as his other hand snaked around behind his back and grunted as he pulled the knife out that had jutting from there.

Rowe examined the clean blade. “Not bad,” he said as he got to his knees and rummaged through the dropped bag of groceries. Good, nothing important was broken. He gathered up most of the items, leaving the rest scattered on the pavement, and walked to the car, dumping it on the back seat.

Jack glanced at it and raised an eyebrow archly. “Do you really need all that?”

“I promised Claire.” Rowe said, slipping out of his jacket.

“I doubt she’ll appreciate the knife. It’s not quite what is considered suitable as a Christmas gift.”

“Why not? It’s bright and shiny. Don’t women go for that sort of thing?” Rowe threw himself into the seat with a grin for his partner.

Jack smiled back at him as he gunned the engine into life. “That usually applies to jewellery. Not kitchen utensils.”

“Whatever,” Rowe said as he scrutinised his coat intently, shivering a little in the cold air. “If she doesn’t want it I’ll take it. You have to give Frost this, he always used top quality tools.”

“He did have the money for it,” Jack agreed.

“Yeah, he did,” Rowe grinned as him as he slipped a couple of fingers through the tear the knife had left and waggled them at his partner. “So how did you like my consummate acting?”

“A little overdone,” Jack stated with an answering grin as he took the corner fast and the wheels spun on the road as it began to ice in the continuing snow. He retained control admirably and they continued on.

“What do you mean?” Rowe asked indignantly. “I thought it was perfect.”

“Well, there really wasn’t any need to stay there the whole time.”

“I didn’t know if you had taken him completely or just winged him,” Rowe defended his actions. “I wouldn’t have helped things if I’d suddenly come back from the dead if you were still trying to finish the job.”

“That’s very considerate of you, but I feel that I should be insulted that you thought that I would miss.”

“Everyone can have a bad day,” Rowe said, still examining his coat. He then lent back with a mournful face and sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Jack asked him.

“This was my best coat,” he moaned, then slumped further into the seat. “In fact it was my only coat, damnit!”

Jack smile at his partner’s pout. “We’ll stop in Bond Street,” he said, steering the car in that direction. “I’ll buy you another. Think of it as my Christmas gift to you.”

“Why, that’s real sweet of you, partner.” Rowe said happily, huddling under his damaged coat with a smile.

“No problem.”

“You know,” Rowe said, lighting a cigarette. “I can’t believe Frost fell for it that easily.”

“He wasn’t particularly bright,” Jack said, negotiating another turn. “Money can’t buy brains.”

“Or guts,” Rowe said disdainfully with a snort. “Straight from behind like the weasel he was.”

“Well, that is what we expected,” Jack said, eyeing the bullet proof vest tossed on the back seat where Rowe had thrown it after removing his coat. “It’s a good thing you were wearing that, otherwise you would have been only too aptly skewered.”

“Hmm,” Rowe inhaled on the cigarette and then blew a smoke ring out that was immediately whisked away. “But he should have figured out that we wouldn’t be caught so easily. I mean,” and he turned his head toward Jack, cigarette dangling from his lips. “We masterminded the whole assassination and frame-up in front of the international media. What made him think that we would not be aware of someone following us?”

“As I said, brains and logic were not his strong suite.”

“Obviously.”

“However, if you hadn’t been acting as bait we would never have drawn him out.”

“It was pretty easy; just walking around each day was so damn boring!” He grinned, “But I had to make it look like I was surprised.”

“Was that why you were carrying those miscellaneous things, like the picture frames?”

“I wanted to make it look good when he came at me.” Rowe grinned. “Nothing looks splashier than shattering glass.”

“Very artistic,” Jack complimented with a smile.

“Thank you, sir!”

There was silence for short time. “There was one little worry though,” Rowe admitted.

“What was that?” Jack asked.

“I didn’t know if he would go for a throat cut or not. I didn’t have any protection against that.”

“I thought we had established that that method would be unlikely, knowing his nature.”

“For the first attack,” Rowe admitted. “But he’s also the sort of snake that goes for a man when he’s down, to finish him off.”

“That’s true,” Jack admitted, remembering all too well when he was posing as Jude McManus how Frost was going to shoot Rowe as he lay on the ground unconscious. Yes, that is exactly how Frost worked.

“So I wondered if he would go for the throat once he thought I was down. Just to make sure.”

“Fortunately he didn’t,” Jack said calmly.

“So you weren’t worried when you arrived?” Rowe asked, turning to look at Jack, hunkering down a little lower in the seat out of the wind.

Jack glanced at him and smiled. When Rowe’s quiet voice had informed him through the cigarette microphone, “He’s here,”, he had driven as fast as he could, following the homing beacon on Rowe. He wasn’t going to admit how hard his heart had beat when he’d seen his partner lying on the ground, the knife hilt protruding from his back. At that moment it had felt like his breath had stopped; a real feeling of fear sweeping over him.

Until he had seen the lighter still lit, the flame flickering in the breeze. He had known then that his partner was okay. If Rowe had been dead he would have released his grip on the lighter, snuffing it out. The fact that it still remained upright and lit had told him clearly that Rowe was alive.

“Of course not,” he lied smoothly. “You would hardly have allowed yourself to die. Noelle would have been very upset with you.” He glanced at Rowe. “Did you think I wouldn’t get there in time?”

“Nope,” Rowe said casually. “I knew you’d be there,” He grinned at his partner. “When have you ever let me down?”

Jack smiled back. “Now let’s get your coat. We have a Christmas dinner waiting for us.”

“Ah,” Rowe hesitated.

“What is it?”

“Well,” and Rowe scratched at his nose, looking a little uncomfortable. “Do you have any suggestions for a Christmas present for a female.”

“I’m sure Noelle would like anything you gave her,” Jack said, not taking his eyes from the road, then the tone in Rowe’s voice alerted him that there was something more to what his partner was saying. “Or is it not Noelle you are referring to?”

“Er, yeah,”

“Ah, I see,” Jack drove in silence for moment. “So what do you think Claire would like – clothing, jewellery?”

“Damned if I know,” Rowe muttered, chewing on his cigarette.

“Well, as it is your first Christmas together, despite it coming so soon, you should give her something. She has always bought you a gift each year.”

“Yeah, I know,”

Jack cast a quick glance at his friend before focusing back on his driving. “So… just how serious are you about her?”

“Huh? What’s that got to do with it?”

“Everything,” Jack replied smoothly. “If you do not intend to continue the liaison or if it is to only be short term, your choice of gift should be fairly general in nature. If this is a long term attraction, then a more personal touch is required. Something she can cherish now, and even if later on the relationship falters, it can be something she wishes to retain in remembrance of your time together.”

Rowe looked silently at his partner. From where he sat he couldn’t see Jack’s left ear but he knew that there would still be that trapezoidal earring attached there. Yeah, he got what Jack was saying. He’d seen that whole scenario played out before him, despite not having known either Jack or his former partner, Claudia, before.

He turned his head and gazed out at the buildings flashing past, thinking. Is that what he wanted? An intense relationship like that where the feelings could linger for so may years later and burn just as brightly? That was a bit of a scary thought for him. He’d always kept his liaison’s light, nothing heavy, a bit of fun for all concerned. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had what he could call a ‘steady’ girlfriend. Is it what he wanted now? Could he even handle it?

Jack let his partner think in silence and spoke only once he’d pulled up to a stop in front of the store. “Come on,” he said, turning off the engine and opening the door. “Let’s get this over with so we don’t keep the ladies waiting.”

“Yeah,” Rowe drawled as he followed with arms wrapped around him, looking like he was going to his death sentence.

-oOo-

“Ready?” Jack queried as they stood before the doors.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Rowe stated, looking uncomfortable. “Are you sure about this?” he asked his partner.

“How should I know?” Jack said with a shrug, opening the door.

“Hey, but you said…!”

“You!”

Rowe’s exclamation was interrupted, for as they entered there was a blur of motion and a hard fist, albeit small, slammed against his jaw, sending him stumbling backwards to land on his butt.

A little dazed, he looked up to see Claire standing before him, glaring down, hands clenched at her side.

“What was that for?” he asked bewildered. Surely she wasn’t angry about their little encounter. He was positive she had enjoyed it. In fact he’d been certain to make sure that she had and that was something he prided himself in. So what was wrong?

He was surprised by the way her eyes glittered. She looks like she’s been crying, he mused, staring up at her. Noelle stood behind Claire, clinging to Jack’s arm tightly and her face also looked blotchy and upset. What the hell had been going on here, he wondered.

“You…” Claire began again and had to stop and swallow hard to continue. “You could have called in, you jerk!”

“What are you talking about? We said we’d be here after we were done. I know we’re a little behind time but we’re not that late!” Rowe said defensively.

“Why you...!” Claire flung herself between his knees and began pounding angrily on his chest.

He grabbed her wrists and held them tightly watching as a single tear ran from the corner of her closed eyes, her face turned away from him. “Hey, hey, what’s all this? Aren’t you going to tell me what’s wrong before you pound me to a pulp?”

She turned to look at him, the glare not quite having the same effect against the unshed tears. “The clean up crew reported in,” she said crisply, sounding more like herself.

“So everything is sorted out with Frost?”

“To hell with Frost!” She shook her head violently, long hair swishing around her shoulders. “They said there was another body there,” She glared at him again. “The person they described was you, Rowe! They said you were dead!”

“Ah. Is that what this all about?”

“Oh!” Claire made to get to her feet but Rowe held her fast, preventing her escape. He hadn’t considered that his little act would have been reported back to her. He should have considered it though. Guess it’s just another one of those things he’d have to start taking note of.

He smiled down at the still angry Claire, releasing one hand to brush away a glittering tear clinging to her cheek. “As you can see, I’m fine. Fighting fit, so there’s no need to worry. Sorry.” he said sincerely.

She relaxed a little in his grip, accepting his apology. “Here,” he said, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small black box. “I didn’t have time to gift wrap it,” he said, grinning. “But I thought it would just be thrown out anyway so it seemed a waste to bother.”

“Only you would think gift wrapping was a waste,” she said mildly, taking the box. “What is it?” as she opened it. She stared at the contents, looking dumbstruck. Then she lifted the necklace out, admiring the swinging pendent of the diamond encrusted half heart.

“Why only half?” she queried, looking at him.

He kept his gaze locked on her face as he reached up and pulled aside the top of his coat to reveal the low neckline of his shirt. His customary leather necklace encircled his tanned throat still but now it was joined by a long slender chain from which hung a half heart in plain silver.

“Merry Christmas,” Rowe said quietly.

Claire just looked at him for a moment longer and then threw herself against his chest, hugging him around the neck tightly. He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt.

“Hey now, this was supposed to make you happy.”

“I.. am…happy,” she hiccupped, then raised her head to look at him, smiling through her tears. She reached out and cupped his face in her hands. “I’m completely happy, silly,” she murmured, resting her forehead against his.

“I’m glad,” he said quietly back.

“Well, I hate to break up this touching tête-à-tête but you really do need to get out of the doorway so we can close them; you’re letting all the cold air in. Not to mention what I am sure is a delicious meal, might get ruined if we delay much longer.”

“Oh my! The dinner!” Claire exclaimed, flinging herself away from Rowe and racing to the kitchen.

Rowe chuckled as he watched her leave. “That’s my girl,” he said out loud. A hand reached down before him and he looked up into Jack’s smiling face.

“Well done, partner,” Jack said.

Rowe let him haul him to his feel, brushing himself down. “That seemed to go okay,” he said, a little embarrassed, scratching at the back of his neck.

“You’ve made Miss Claire very happy, Rowe!” Noelle said, beaming at him. She clapped her hands together. “This is the best Christmas ever!” and she bounded away.

“Well, shall we join them?” Jack queried.

“Guess we’d better. There’d be hell to pay if we didn’t at this point.”

“Very true.”

They began walking towards the room where the sounds of laughter, talking and clattering dishes were coming from.

“Merry Christmas, Rowe,” Jack suddenly said, not looking at his partner but holding his left arm across his body, hand pointed toward Rowe who was walking on his right.

“Merry Christmas, Jack,” Rowe replied, not looking either but mirroring the gesture so their hands touched.

They shook and then continued on to join their ‘family’.

~End~

Shades Of Moonlight - Part 2

2007-12-10T03:03:16Z

Author: Despina
Illustrations: infected_wound (much love to you.)
Story title: Shades of Moonlight
Series/Original: Original
Word count: 4,547
Sexual content rating: NC 17 (sex and some disturbing images, this chapter is tame.)

Notes: This story is still in motion, but I'm pretty sure what I want (it was *done* at one point.) Again, many thanks to imayb1 and jade_heart1 for their beta powers. I did touch it last, so any mistakes belong to me.

Shades of Moonlight

Part 1

Part 2

Monique gulped her wine and then glared at Dante. "I don't know how you can live in a world completely filled with denial."

Dante knew his eyes flashed with anger and he set his own glass of wine on the side table next to the couch. He had not come to Monique's house to hear the same tired story of Mick's monster, and yet, somehow they were back to arguing the subject. "What do you want me to do about it? Storm the castle and rescue the damsel in distress? From what you've told me, it sounds like Mick has a boyfriend." He cringed internally when he said the words. He didn't want to think about Mick with someone else. He stared at Monique and the next words he spoke came out with a snarl. "This is real life, not a story book with trolls snatching helpless maidens."

Placing her left hand on her hip, Monique audibly counted to ten before saying, "Have you heard a single word I've said? He doesn't have a boyfriend, Dante, it's something else, it's a…"

"A monster, Mick's poltergeist come to life." He rolled his eyes as he dully repeated her words. "Yes, I did hear you, but come on, Monique, a demon?"

"You don't understand, Dante. He's exhausted all the time and he looks awful. He looks like he's dying, like he's being… drained."

Dante kept his voice even, refusing to fall victim to her hysteria. "When you work hard and put yourself under pressure the way he does about his writing, exhaustion is bound to take a toll."

"It's more than that!" Monique exclaimed, her free hand dropping to her side and curling into fists. "I'm really afraid for him. If this situation continues, there'll be nothing left of him. What’s happening to him is bizarre, and somehow I know it’s all tied up with his writing and this thing, Raoul."

He studied her, Monique's eyes were sincere, clearly, she really was afraid for Mick. She was a strong woman and not easily frightened or duped. "Okay, okay. Just for argument’s sake, let's say I agree something is wrong with Mick. But a monster? You can't believe I'd take you seriously."

"Yes, I do expect you to take me seriously!" She hissed, her brown eyes blazing. "Have you bothered to see Mickey in the past two months? He's wasting away yet he's lit from within like he's feverish."

"No, I haven't seen him." Dante's tone was much harsher than he meant it to be, but he didn't care. He didn't really want to speak about Mick anymore. They hadn't seen each other since the horrible night at the bar, the night Dante had said those cruel words and ruined all hope of catching Mick. He was always saying inappropriate things to Mick, usually voicing the exact opposite of what he was feeling.

Monique exhaled and this time when she spoke, her voice was much softer. "I'm sorry. I do know how you feel about him and I know it’s hard for you to talk about him."

Dante waved his hand dismissively. "No need for you to be sorry. I'm the one who chased him off, I did it to myself."

"Well, you certainly didn't help with your constant teasing. He was always crazy about you and I can't imagine how your words made him feel."

Rubbing his hand through his short, dark hair, Dante felt nauseous. "I don't know why I do that to him, Monique."

She placed her empty glass down on the coffee table and sat down next to him on the couch. "I'll tell you why; it's because you're afraid of letting him get close to you. You're sociable and charming with everyone else because you don't care about them. Mick, however, is different for you, isn't he?"

He sighed. "Yes."

She smoothed out her black skirt and turned towards him. "Dante, I am sorry for not considering your feelings, but this really isn't about you."

He considered her words along with his selfishness for a moment. Maybe he needed to concentrate on what Monique was saying. After all, simply because he'd driven Mick away didn't mean Dante didn't care. "Okay, I'll listen to your theories. Just remember, I can't promise you I won't be skeptical."

"Well, you wouldn't be Dante if you weren't skeptical." She patted his arm reassuringly. "Believe me, I know how it sounds. He tried to tell me, you know. Right after he moved in to that place, just before his writing… changed and the publishers started knocking on his door. Mick told me that Raoul was real, but I didn’t take him at his word, I just couldn't…"

"Believe it?" Dante finished for her.

She nodded solemnly and looked down.

"Why would you believe it?" He asked. "Didn't he also say he was making a joke about his poltergeist?" Dante refused to consider 'Raoul' a monster or demon.

Monique crossed her arms. "Yes, he did say he was making a joke. I think he was afraid I'd have him committed. I'm such a fool."

Dante moved closer and took her hand. "I think maybe Mick is ill, Monique, and you can’t blame yourself for that."

"Mick's not ill," a new voice said.

Monique whirled on the couch and faced the voice, she nearly shouted when she said, "Jesus, Alex! You scared the hell out of me. I didn't hear you come in."

Looking over at the entrance to the living room, Dante could see Monique's roommate, Alex, leaning against the doorway arch and holding a glass of beer, his jacket draped over one arm.

Alex shook his head for emphasize, saying again, "Mick's not ill. At least, not the way a doctor could diagnosis it."

Monique stared at him. "Alex? What do you know about it?"

He moved inside the room and sat down in a nearby chair, draping his jacket over the arm. "You've been so anxious about Mick, I couldn't stand it anymore.”

“What did you do?” She asked.

Alex took a long drink from his glass and then licked his upper lip before he explained. “Last night, after closing at the restaurant, I decided I would go by and check on him. It wasn't too late, around 10:30, and we all know Mick tends to keep some strange hours."

"Yes, he does, and his hours are probably even more bizarre since he lost his job." Monique agreed.

Dante frowned at her words. "He lost his job?"

"A couple of weeks ago. He just quit going." Monique squeezed Dante's hand and turned her gaze on Alex. "What happened, Alex?"

"Yes," Dante added. "From the beginning."

Alex exhaled. "As I told you, I got there about 10:30. I pressed the buzzer to his room but I didn't receive an answer, I tried numerous times. I had given up and was ready to leave when one of the other tenants showed up and let me inside."

"Now that's high security." Dante rolled his eyes with his sarcasm.

"I went to his room, up those two flights of stairs and I knocked, but he wouldn't answer." Alex swallowed. "This is when the story gets a little strange. He wouldn't answer the door but I knew he was there, I could hear him speaking to someone."

Dante's eyes searched Alex's pale face. "Male?"

"I think probably but…" Alex paused, looking from Monique to Dante and back again. "You're going to think I'm crazy but I don't think it was human. All I could hear was a sort of growling and I didn't recognize any words; I think it was another language."

"Oh, for the love of…" Dante began but Alex interrupted him.

"I know what you are thinking, Dante!" Alex glared at Dante, his blue eyes were determined and his voice softened. "Believe me I do know what you are thinking, but that isn't even the freaky part."

Monique kept her features neutral when she said, "Go on, Alex."

"When I left the building, there were two people in the foyer discussing an incident from the night before." Alex took a large drink of his beer. "They said they saw something crawling out of Mick's window."

"Something?" Dante asked.

"Someone, maybe." Alex ran a hand though his hair. "I couldn't make complete sense out of what they were saying."

"That because it's nonsense, you misunderstood what they were saying." Dante stated and then looked from Alex to Monique. Alex took another drink from his glass but wouldn't return Dante's stare. Monique chewed on her lip for a moment, a determined gleam in her eyes.

"Monique?" Alex asked, and then emptied his glass.

"Yes." She answered and then stood.

"What are you doing?" Dante asked, but he already knew the answer. "You can't be serious?"

She moved across the room and retrieved her jacket from a closet. "Mickey's in trouble, Dante, whether you wish to believe it or not. I intend to do whatever I can for him."

"Me, too. I need to see this for myself." Alex stood up set down his glass on the table and slipped on his own jacket.

Dante drained his wine glass. "Well… fuck." He stood and followed them out the door to Monique's car.

"I'm freezing," Monique said, hanging on to Dante's arm while she shivered.

"What did you expect? We've been standing out here for almost an hour." Dante pulled his own jacket closer. "Lurking around in the middle of the night like some transients. This is lunacy. We'll be lucky if someone doesn't call the cops on us."

Alex stepped closer to Dante and whispered. "Let’s give it a little longer."

"There's nothing to see." Dante was tired, cold and impatient. "Mick’s window is three floors up and lights aren't even on in his apartment. He's either out or asleep. This is ridiculous, I'm going home."

"Wait!" Alex hissed, catching Dante's arm and halting his progress before he left the cover of trees. "Look."

The crescent moon provided some light, enough to discern hues of white and black. Dante squinted up at the attic apartment and saw the round window open out.

"Dante," Monique whispered. Her shivering increased. "What is that?"

Alex shushed her and Dante was grateful; he couldn't have answered Monique's question if he had wanted to. Dante thought it was a man, but in the partial moonlight, he wasn't sure. The thing moved with a speed that wasn't possible, scrabbling across the eaves and right above the window. It paused, standing at the apex of the roof, a foot on either side and raised its arms to the sky. Dante blinked, trying to clear his vision. The thing's skin looked like it was grayish-blue and it wasn't wearing clothes. Even in the faint light and three floors below, Dante knew it was male.

"What the fuck is that?" Alex barely whispered.

"It's Raoul," Monique answered, her fingertips bit painfully into Dante's arm.

There was no possible way the thing on the roof could hear them and yet, it dropped its arms and turned towards them. There was a silver glimmer of reflected moonlight and Dante was certain it originated from whatever stood on top of Mick’s building. The man-thing crouched and moved to the very edge of the roof, its eyes focused directly at them. It looked ready to spring.

"Oh, shit." Alex's voice quivered and he grabbed both Dante and Monique's arms. "It's coming for us. Come on."

"Don't be absurd, it’s on the roof. What’s it going to do, jump?" Dante asked with more bravado than he felt. He watched the thing watching them and he thought maybe it smiled, but he couldn't be sure.

Lights came on in Mick's apartment and they could see movement in the room. Dante's eyes shifted to the lit window for only a moment, and when he glanced back, the roof was bare.

Monique's voice shook with fear when she said. "Wh… where did it go?"

"I don't know," Dante answered. "Alex?"

"I only looked away for a second and he was gone." Alex turned a quick circle, his head moving around trying to see every direction at once. "You don't think he's out here, do you?"

"How would I know?" Dante asked and then moved towards the house.

"Dante!" Alex called from the copse of trees. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to see Mick." Dante strode across the grass headed for the security door. What he had seen disturbed him, but he refused to believe he’d witnessed anything supernatural. He felt sure there was a logical explanation.

Monique and Alex caught up with him when he reached the buzzer. At the lit entryway, he paused for a minute to take in his companion's appearances. Monique was pale and visibly shaking. Alex's eyes were wide and he constantly glanced over his shoulder, expecting an attack. Dante looked at each of them and then pressed the buzzer.

The speaker crackled and Mick's distorted voice asked, "Who is it?"

Dante exhaled a breath he didn't even know he was holding and tried to sound normal. "Hey, Mick."

"Dante?" Distorted or not, the surprise in Mick's voice was evident.

"Yes." Dante added, "I'm with Alex and Monique."

Monique shook off her paralysis. "We've come to visit. Can we come up?"

"Oh." There was a long pause. "Okay."

The door buzzed and the three made their way up the stairs. Mick met them at the door wearing a bathrobe. He looked feverish but he smiled when he saw them. "Hi, guys. What are you doing here? It's late."

"We've been worried about you," Monique said. "Dante wanted to see you."

"I did n… " Dante began to protest but changed his mind. "I did. Want to see you, I mean."

Mick’s eyes narrowed and he gazed at Dante. "Really?"

"Yes. Aren't you going to let us in?"

"Um, yeah." Mick stepped away from the door, leaving it open as an invitation.

Monique and Alex exchanged nervous looks. Dante followed Mick inside and down the hall, careful not to hit his head on the sloping attic ceiling. The first thing he noticed was an unpleasant smell in the apartment, a combination scent of sex mixed with rotting leaves. He wrinkled his nose. The second thing he noticed was how unsteady Mick was on his feet, running his fingers down the wall as if he were gaining perspective, a point to hold him on course.

Stepping into the studio room, Dante was surprised to find the room a disaster. Mick was normally tidy, but loose papers, clothing and dirty cups lay everywhere. The futon looked like it had endured battle, torn sheets, what looked like blood and other stains. Dante scowled and looked away.

As if reading Dante's Mind, Mick said, "Sorry for the mess. I've been writing a lot and I haven't had time to do anything else." His eyes shifted to his computer and his voice became dreamy. "That's really what I should be doing right now."

"Geez, Mickey, are you sure you are okay?" Monique asked. "You look bad. You're really skinny."

"I'm fine." Mick looked at them dully. He rubbed his fingers over the ring on his left thumb. "All I have is tea."

"I could use a cup," Alex said.

Monique smiled at Mick. "I'll help."

Mick and Monique moved into the small kitchen.

Dante watched Alex step to the computer and rifle through the stacks of discs. Alex turned to Dante in wonder and pointed to the CD's. He kept his voice very low when he said, "These are all labeled, Dante. He must be writing at breakneck speed."

"Yeah." Dante moved to the window, studying it. "I had an artist friend once who became manic one day. It was the strangest thing. One day he was normal and the next day it was as if someone had flipped a switch. He quit sleeping and started painting, day and night. Right before we put him in the hospital, he told me he was an angel sent from heaven to do God's work." Dante ran a fingertip over one of many deep scratches in the woodwork of the window seat. The fresh gouges looked like claw marks.

Alex stepped close to him and spoke softly. "You can't seriously think that's what is happening to Mick."

"Why not?" Dante gazed out the window but all he could see was the room's reflection. He leaned closer, trying to see beyond the mirror image to the lawn and copse of trees. "It's much easier to believe in manic-depression than Raoul."

A face suddenly appeared on the other side of the window, one with silver eyes and very sharp teeth. Dante froze, his mind frantically trying to make sense of what he saw, and then a large hand with clawed fingers thumped against the glass pane. Startled by a hand moving towards his face, Dante jumped back, colliding with Alex and knocking both of them to the floor with an audible crash.

While they untangled, Alex asked, "Did you see that? What was that?"

Before Dante could answer, Monique hovered over them, a scowl on her face. "What are you two doing?"

"Nothing," Dante answered, attempting to compose himself while he stood. He was irritated to note that his knees were shaking. "Alex just startled me and we got hung up."

"I startled you?" Alex accused him while he dusted off his pants.

Mick seemed completely uninterested in the ruckus, his eyes stayed focused on his computer. He handed a cup of tea to Dante. "Here."

The four of them stood while they drank their tea. Monique and Alex made small talk with occasional comments from Dante. Mick stayed mute, staring at his computer or at the ring on his thumb, completely unresponsive unless asked a direct question. The long stretches of uncomfortable silence were painful and all four of them were jumpy. Dante kept his eyes glued to the window but did not see the silver eyes return.

Once they finished their tea, Alex made excuses and the three left. Mick did not seem to care; in fact, he seemed pleased they were leaving. He explained he had a lot to write.

No one spoke on the car ride back to Monique and Alex's place. Dante sat down on the couch and Alex sat in the chair. Monique brought them each a beer to drink. They all seemed lost in their thoughts, dazed by a sense of surrealism.

A few minutes passed before Alex finally asked Monique, "Did you ask Mick about what we saw on the roof?"

"Yes." She shivered.

Alex and Dante waited expectantly.

"Mick's reaction was weird. He didn't deny it; he acted like it was completely normal that some creature was crawling on his roof." Monique took a long drink of her beer and then visibly shivered. "In fact, he said we'd seen Raoul."

"That's…" Dante didn't know what do say. He knew what he'd seen, but the night still didn't make any sense to him. "That's not possible."

Alex ran a hand through his hair and set his already empty beer glass down. "I think we need help. What we saw tonight was... otherworldly. We are out of our element."

"What do you suggest?" Monique asked and reached for Dante's hand.

"I have a friend who makes a hobby of researching the occult. Demons," he cleared his throat, "in particular."

"Demons?" Dante asked.

"Yes."

The room was silent for several moments before Dante said, "Why does it have to be a demon? Why can't it just be some freak that likes to climb on roofs?"

Alex stared at him and then exhaled in frustration. "A naked freak with blue skin? In forty degree weather? He was climbing on the roof, Dante!"

Dante chewed on his lip. He didn't know how to explain the face outside the window with those silver eyes, either. On the third floor. Dante felt his skeptic resolve begin to crumble.

"Can you call her now?" Monique tapped her hand on her leg.

"It's late," Alex looked at the clock on the wall behind him then back at Monique's worried features, "but I'll call."

Alex's friend Cecilia agreed to meet with them the next evening. She swept into Monique and Alex's living room with a rattle of jewelry and a swish from her paisley, purple and blue gauze skirt. She wore a multitude of scarves and reeked of patchouli oil. Dante took an immediate dislike to her.

After the introductions, Alex and Monique settled in and immediately began hammering her with information and questions. They excitedly threw out outlandish possibilities of what they’d seen and what Raoul might be. Dante kept quiet.

"I've been reading some books on demons," Monique said with barely contained excitement.

Cecilia scowled. "You must be careful with what you read. Some information is woefully incomplete. If you are truly dealing with a demon, bad information could get you killed."

Dante resisted rolling his eyes.

Not deterred in the slightest, Monique continued, "I think it's an incubus. I've been doing some research on the web and there are tons of stories from all over the world throughout history. In Zanzibar and Tanzania, for example, over the last several years, there have been multiple reports of shape-shifting creatures raping men in their beds."

Cecilia raised an eyebrow and settled into the remaining empty chair in the room. Removing a notebook and a pencil from the enormous bag she brought, she said, "Perhaps we should start at the beginning."

They explained it all, sometimes Monique and Alex attempting to speak at the same time. Cecilia would halt them and sort out the confusion, one speaker at a time. Dante had to hand it to her, she might be a hippie, but she was good at controlling the hysteria.

"Do you know if we can do anything to save Mick?" Monique asked after their story was complete and the Cecilia’s questions had ceased.

Cecilia’s gazed at her notebook. "I can talk to some people I know. Religious History professors at a Catholic College, people that know non-public information the church prefers to keep under wraps. I also have some friends that are serious demonologists.”

“Serious?” Dante said his skepticism evident.

She closed her book and tucked her curly long hair behind one ear with a jangle of jewelry. Studying him for a long time, she finally asked, “Why are you here?”

Dante opened his mouth for a scathing retort but saw Monique and Alex glaring at him. He closed his mouth and reconsidered his words. “I don’t know. I’m not certain I believe any of this, but something is happening to our friend. Something I don’t understand.”

Cecilia nodded. “You are honest, that’s good. What do you think you saw on the roof last night?”

“I don’t know.” Dante shifted on the couch, feeling uncomfortable under her brown-eyed scrutiny. “It was unusual, I’ll agree with that, but I can’t accept the demon theory.” His gaze faltered and he looked away. He tried not to think about the silver eyes staring at him through a third floor window and the deep claw marks on Mick’s window seat. What was that thing? Dante had been struggling to make sense of what he had seen.

“Dante?” Monique asked the unspoken question.

He looked back to Cecilia and inhaled. “Mick is in trouble. I want to help; I guess it’s as simple as that.”

Her clear eyes delved into him and she tipped her head to one side. “It’s possible there will be requirements that you will not enjoy.”

“Such as?” Dante asked.

“Such as caution, diligence and belief.”

Dante frowned but did not speak.

Cecilia continued to stare at him. “If it is an incubus we will fight, you will be at greater risk than the other two.”

“Why would I be more at risk?”

She smiled. "Incubi are terribly jealous and territorial creatures.”

Monique interrupted her, “What can we do?”

Cecilia blinked in surprise and turned to Monique. She pursed her lips, perhaps considering her next words. “Have any of you noticed anything else unusual about your friend? Even simple things?”

“You mean, besides a naked animal standing on his roof, writing ability he never had before or that weird smell?” Alex asked, his voice thick with sarcasm, rivaling Dante’s sharp tongue. “What else unusual are you looking for?”

"The ring," Monique said.

"What ring?" Dante asked.

"He started wearing a ring on his thumb just before he began to wither. It tore my skin when I touched it, as a thorn would.”

"Ah, a ring on his thumb might suffice for a contract." Cecilia nodded, making notes in her book.

"Contract?" Dante asked. "What do you mean?"

“With artistic people, sometimes they, more than the rest of us, can telegraph longing across dimensions. You indicated Mick’s intense desire to be a great author. There is a possibility that Raoul truly is Mick's newly acquired muse."

Monique inhaled. “Are you saying Mick has sold his soul?”

“I suppose you could say what has happened to your friend equates to that, yes.” Cecilia answered with quiet seriousness.

Dante chewed on his lip. Mick's latest written works were… amazing. The stories were completely different from anything he had created before, and they would surely make him famous. Had Mick actually sold his soul? Or maybe he'd sold his life force. No, those thoughts were simply absurd, weren't they?

“I’ll try to get my friends to watch the apartment house tonight. If it is a demon, we will need to move fast.”

“I’ll go with you.” Dante nodded and stood. “I think I need to see it again.”

Alex also stood. "I'll come with you. You, in particular need to be careful, Dante, if that thing figures out how you feel, you could be in grave danger."

"Because the incubus would kill me?" Dante nearly scoffed with the absurdity of his words, but he couldn't deny that two of his closest friends believed the extraordinary tale. Dante himself had doubts, but if his participation could help Mick in anyway, he would do whatever idiocy was required.

“Do not take this creature lightly.” Cecilia sounded like a scolding schoolteacher. “Incubi are very clever, able to change shape at will, pretending to be someone else. Raoul would kill you to keep you from Mick, maybe even pose as Mick."

"Dante, I don't think you should go…" Monique began but he waved her off.

"If this creature is what you think, can you get your “occult” people to demon proof my house?" Dante couldn't imagine he would have ever said anything so ridiculous in his life.

"Your house?" Alex blinked at him.

"Yes, my house." He looked at the two of them. "I have more room. I'm also closer to a hospital if needed."

Cecilia nodded and gathered up her bag. “I’ll check with them tonight, but they will be your best hope.”

Monique dabbed at her eyes and smiled. "I think those words might make you a knight."

"What are you talking about?" He asked with impatience.

"Looks like you'll be rescuing the princess after all."

He rolled his eyes. "Shut up, already."

Shades of Moonlight Part 1

2007-11-22T03:22:48Z

Author: Despina
Illustrations: infected_wound (much love to you.)
Story title: Shades of Moonlight
Series/Original: Original
Word count: 5,388
Sexual content rating: NC 17 (sex and some disturbing images.)

Notes: This part of this story is five pages shorter than it was. Shades of Moonlight began it's life as a ghost story, but that didn't really pan out, so I peeled away the ghost part and it became the horror story you are about to read.

There's no fluff here. Part three is still in the works, but here is part 1.

Part 1

“Mickey.” Monique stood up from the table and hugged him. “I haven’t seen you in ages.” She put her hand to his cheek. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, ‘Nique. You saw me last week.” He said, returning her hug, his eyes traveling around the table and taking in the usual crowd. His eyes stayed on Dante a little longer than the others and he felt a familiar tug at his heart.

“It has been almost a month,” Monique said, sitting back down.

He pulled up an extra chair, thinking about it. “Really?”

“Since we helped you moved, you’ve disappeared on us.” Monique leaned forward. “What have you been up too?”

“I’ve been writing a lot, I guess time just got away from me.” Mick smiled. “I’ve been inspired since I moved.”

“Is it anything good?” Alex asked, picking up his drink.

“I think so,” Mick answered, reaching for the pitcher of beer and an empty glass.

Monique nudged his shoulder with her own, her eyes sparkling. “Is it because of Raoul?”

“Who’s Raoul?” Dante asked but he couldn’t sound more bored by the subject.

Alex sat up straight, full of curiosity. “A boyfriend?”

“Do tell.” Dante took a sip of his beer and stifled a yawn.

Mick sighed internally and not for the first time, he wondered why Dante bothered to come to their gatherings. Dante was stereotypically tall, dark and handsome but his disposition was dour. He’d witnessed a charming Dante, but only from a distance. Mick considered his own presence was cause for Dante’s surly nature. The dark haired, gray-eyed man just didn’t like Mick.

“Raoul is the poltergeist in Mickey’s new apartment.” Monique announced.

“For real?” Alex’s blue eyes widened.

“I don’t know if I’d refer to it as a poltergeist.” Mick smiled indulgently and then he shrugged. “Stuff gets moved around a lot. The windows and door open on their own. Things like that.”

Monique squeezed Mick’s arm. “Didn’t you also say some of your clothes had been rearranged?”

“Yes.” Mick placed his elbow on the table and placed his chin in his upraised hand. “Color coordinated. My dishes, too, they are arranged by size.”

Alex stared at him before he shuddered. “Creepy. Doesn’t that scare you?’

“Not really.” Mick chuckled. “The house I grew up in had a lot of mysteries also.”

“Mysteries?” Alex made a scornful noise and ran his hand through his blond hair. “You make it sound normal. There’s no way I could sleep in a place were things were moving around. But not you, you even named your ghost.”

“I thought the place felt sinister from the start.” Monique took a drink of her beer. “You can feel the bad vibes.”

Mick rolled his eyes. “You were with me when I signed the lease. You didn’t say anything about bad vibes then.”

“Why the name Raoul?” Dante asked, staring at the far wall.

“What?” He turned his attention to Dante, Mick hadn’t thought he was listening.

Dante’s grey eyes moved from the wall to Mick, studying him for a moment. “Is Raoul an unrequited love or something?”

Mick swallowed, anger and embarrassment coiling together, Dante could always make him feel inadequate. “Raoul is a fun name to say, I like the sound as it rolls off my tongue. Also, since I’ve moved in, my muse has reawakened, so I guess I think of Raoul as my muse.”

“Don’t tell me.” Dante gazed deeper into Mick’s eyes. “You dream about Raoul, too?”

He sipped his beer, calming himself, knowing that Dante was only trying to humiliate him. He returned the intense stare, saying, “Yeah, I dream about him, almost every night. Hard core.”

Alex sighed wistfully. “At least you’re getting something. Dream ghost sex is more action than I’m getting these days.”

Dante leaned his long arms on the table and took a drink of beer. “If Raoul is your muse, maybe he can help you write something better than your normal, inane drivel.”

“Dante,” Monique hissed. “Don’t be a total ass.”

“What?” Dante’s steely gray eyes challenged everyone at the table. “You know what I say is true, what he writes isn’t any good.”

Mick stared at his beer, watching the condensation form into droplets and slide down the side of the glass. Dante could always manage to say the most devastating things with an economy of words. Mick looked at Alex and ‘Nique, but they kept their eyes turned away. Maybe they all felt the same way. Was his writing that bad?

Dante shook his head. “Look, I’m not trying to be unkind but sugarcoating the words won’t help you, Mick. You think a publisher will be kind?”

Alex inhaled sharply. “Dante, that’s too much. He just needs a little polish.”

Mick scanned the table seeing Monique’s look of sympathy, Alex’s near drunken concern and Dante’s contempt. So. They did feel the same way. His camaraderie with the three people at the table suddenly felt surreal and a vast loneliness stole over him. Mick drained his glass and stood. “I’m leaving.”

“Oh Mickey, don’t.” Monique looked at him sadly, her eyes blinking back tears.

He didn’t need tears. Out of all three, he found he appreciated Dante’s approach most of all. At least Dante had enough guts to tell him. “I’ll talk to you later.” He threw enough money onto the table to cover his part of the tab, then he left.

Outside, Dante caught up with him. “Stop, Mick.”

Mick paused and turned, Dante was a good six inches taller, and he had to look up. He found that annoying and he glared at Dante.

Eyes like cold steel, Dante gave Mick his normal disapproving look. “Don’t you think you’re being childish?”

Mick kept his features neutral. He was trying desperately to get past his feelings of attraction for Dante. He didn’t want to allow those piercing words to hurt him anymore. “Am I? I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood for your comments tonight.”

Mick began to turn away but Dante’s hand snaked out and grabbed his arm. “Why do you always insist on making me into a villain?”

Staring straight ahead Mick found the words repeated them without emotion. “You are a villain, Dante, you are a cold-hearted bastard.”

Dante’s fingers tightened, tugging Mick around to face him. “Why would you say that?”

“Let go, Dante.” Mick felt the hopelessness wash over him. “You’ve already made your feelings about me crystal clear.”

“Have I?” Dante’s eyes widened but his tone remained full of contempt. “I don’t remember telling you how I feel. Are you sure you are not projecting your own expectations on me?”

Mick tried to wrench his arm free, but Dante’s fingers held fast. “I don’t have time for this, Dante.” Not so long ago, he’d wanted to ask Dante’s opinion about his writing. Not so long ago, before the insults and the disdain began, he’d adored Dante. Now all he wanted was to get away from those taunting, cold eyes. “I need to get home and write some more crappy prose.”

Dante’s hand loosened and slipped down his arm, fingers briefly interlacing with Mick’s before pulling away completely. “I’m sorry.”

Mick shook his head. Dante was apologizing? No, he must be hearing things. “What?”

Glancing away and staring at the side of a building, Dante said, “I’m not very good at speaking to people I… like. I tend to become a bully, some sort of defense mechanism, I guess.”

Mick swallowed, Monique must have really lectured Dante to get this kind of reaction out of the churlish man. “I’m all right. I know you don’t like me, you don’t have to pretend.”

Dante exhaled. “It’s not like that. I’m just not…”

Interrupting him, Mick said, “Its okay.” Turning, Mick waved a hand over his head. “I’ll see you.”

Mick walked home, the exercise helped to manage his anger and pain. He also considered his life as he walked, the wind blowing against his hair and face, gently but incessantly. The last year had been bad for him. He hated his job, his writing was not going well, and he’d had to move to a smaller apartment in order to save money. To top it all off, his love life was nonexistent. Yes, his life looked grim, indeed.

Making his way up the stairs and opening the door to his apartment, he realized that since the move, something in him had changed. He felt better, stronger and more alive. True, his new dwelling was smaller than he was accustomed to, little more than an attic apartment in a converted mansion, but he found his new home comforting.

He had to step over a pile of boxes in the narrow hallway while dodging the sloping eaves of the ceiling to work his way towards to the small kitchenette. He paused when he emerged in the studio room, placing his coat on a hook while he stared straight ahead and out the round window set above the built-in window seat. To his left was the tiny kitchen and to his right, past his futon and across the sizable studio room, was the small bathroom. Sure, his apartment was small, but everything he needed was here, especially the window. Mick loved the window seat and loved the fact that he could see the sky and the moon so perfectly.

Turning away from the window, he stepped into the tiny kitchen and poured himself a bowl of cereal for dinner. There was no need to cook; he would write a bit and then head to bed anyway. Writing tonight was bonus time, since he’d expected to be out late with his friends. Friends. He rolled his eyes.

Standing near the sink, he ate his cereal while listening to the persistent wind. Sometimes, up here in the attic room, the wind seemed to speak, telling him things, but he couldn’t understand all the words. He shook his head, worrying that someday he’d turn into one of those eccentric people who wore aluminum foil caps.

When he finished his dinner, he rinsed out his bowl and that was when he noticed: the dishes in the drying rack were different. In the morning when he washed them and set them in the rack, he’d carefully memorized the way he’d arranged them. Smiling, he opened the cupboard above his head. The stoneware dishes sat aligned by size, biggest on the left to smallest on the right. Raoul had been busy.

He heard the front door creak open and smiled again, making his way to the door. Mick knew he had closed and locked the door, but he decided Raoul was making an entrance. The thought of sharing his home with a ghost didn’t bother or frighten him. Oddly enough, he found Raoul’s presence comforting, and he thought of the entity as a friend. It was nice to think that someone was glad of Mick’s existence.

Mick entered the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He was determined to do a little reading tonight instead of writing, although he could feel the tug of the keyboard and the computer. There was a scene in his head begging for the telling. He rinsed out his mouth and set the toothbrush in its holder. Standing up straight and looking into the mirror, his eyes caught sight of someone standing behind him.

He inhaled sharply and blinked. There was no one there, no one with ice-blue cat-eyes and dark gray skin. Mick turned, gazing into the studio room, seeing the light from the moon spilling onto the hardwood floor. His eyes were playing tricks on him, all he had seen was the soft moonlight reflected in the mirror.

“It was just the moonlight I saw,” he whispered.

“Yesssssss.” The wind outside agreed, rustling though the trees.

He exhaled the breath he’d forgotten he was holding and chuckled. “One aluminum foil cap coming right up.”

Moving to his dresser outside the bathroom, he took off his shirt and slacks, throwing them in to the laundry basket. He pulled on a t-shirt, irritated he would have to do laundry soon. Mick hated doing laundry. He placed his watch in the tray with his few other pieces of jewelry and paused. A lone ring sat in the ceramic dish, one he’d never seen before. Picking up the band of metal, he studied it closely. The ring was solid silver but very heavy.

“Platinum?” He asked aloud, but there was no answer.

Staring at the band of silver, he sat down on the futon. He didn’t remember owning this ring. Maybe it was Ethan’s? His last boyfriend was a lover of jewelry, but Ethan would have scoffed at such a plain band. Curious if the ring would fit, Mick slipped it on to his middle finger. Too big, he moved it to his index finger. The band slipped around loosely. Finally, he placed it on his thumb. The ring fit perfectly, as if made for him. Glinting moonlight hit the silver band and he could see a faint pattern of lighter gray vines with thorns twining around the ring. It was beautiful and for a moment, he wished it had come from someone special.

A chill filled the room and Mick was suddenly aware of the silent wind. The hair on the back of his neck stirred and his gaze shifted to the window. The moon was harvest colored but still had some time before it was full. A shadow filled the window for a moment and Mick’s heart pounded in his chest.

“Silly.” He chided himself and took off the ring with a sigh. Mick might wear the band someday but not yet. For some inexplicable reason, it didn’t feel right.

The wind howled outside and he yawned, suddenly overcome with weariness. He lay on the futon, staring out the window and deciding he would forego both writing and reading for sleep. He felt the chill again and focused, noticing that the round window was slightly open. He smiled. Mick didn’t mind if Raoul wanted the window open. He closed his eyes and drifted.

“Michael.”

Mick felt heaviness in his limbs, his movement slow, as if in water. He cracked his right eyelid. He wondered if he was hearing the wind call his name.

“Michael.”

He sat up and blinked his eyes. There was a figure at the window seat. The moon was bright enough to mark out that the person was certainly male although Mick wasn’t certain he was human. Illumination further revealed long dark waves of thick hair and wide shoulders. Yes, the person was certainly male, but the moonlight played tricks with Mick’s eyes because the person also appeared to have bluish-gray skin. Mick squinted, but he could not make out facial features. “Who are you?”

“Raoul.”

Mick stared and then understanding filled him; he was experiencing was a dream. Raoul was visiting him in his dreams, just as he had told Dante. He smiled with the irony.

“During the upcoming full moon, Michael, I will be at my strongest and able to enter this world.” The dark head tipped to look out the window and a glint of silver flashed from the being’s eyes. “What you call the Harvest Moon. I can come to you then, be with you forever after, but you must help me do this.”

“Raoul.” Mick let the name slide off his tongue and the figure in the window stiffened and moaned

“Yesssssss.” Was the wind-song from the creature’s voice. “The name you gave me sounds so good, Michael, I am filled with ecstasy when you say it. By naming me, we are already joined.”

“Joined?” Mick asked wondering why he felt no fear. He understood he was in a dream, but still, the meeting was very strange.

“You called me to you. Through your disappointment and your lonesome pain, you wished for me. I can fix everything for you.” Raoul smiled. His teeth looked sharp.

Mick licked his lips, feeling sweat accumulate on his brow. Raoul called to him, not with words but with something else. Mick didn’t understand it, but he was painfully erect. “Are you proposing a deal? Are you the devil?”

“I am not the devil.” Raoul showed his teeth again and stood up fluidly. He looked like a statue, tall and sinewy with blue-gray skin, the color of a stormy sky, with light silver tattoos of thorny vines, visible only where the moonlight touched his skin. Raoul’s eyes were ice blue with silver cat-like pupils. Mick’s eyes traveled hungrily over the perfect body and paused at his enormous hard-on.

Swallowing, Mick continued to stare. He slipped out of bed, drawn to the figure in the window seat and wanting to touch Raoul.

“You approve of what you see?” The creature asked.

Mick took a step forward his body crying with need, lust overcoming everything other thought processes. “Yes.”

“You want me to touch you?” The words caressed Mick’s ears. “I could make you feel such pleasure.”

This was a dream. Wasn’t it okay to have a devil fuck you in your dreams? He took another step forward. “Yes. Make me feel pleasure.”

A tidal wave of bliss washed over him, causing his knees to buckle and to slide to the floor. His cock throbbed with aching need and he writhed. “Raoul, please …”

Raoul chuckled. “I cannot, Michael. You must wear the ring I gave you in order to make our connection complete. You will free me and I will give you everything you want and more.”

“No,” Mick managed to whine and he crawled forward. “This is only a dream. I should be able to have you.”

“I will visit again tomorrow, Michael. There are seven days until the full moon and I can come to you then but only if you wear the ring. In the meantime, I will give you a taste.” Raoul gestured with his hand and Mick’s cock twitched and he was coming. “I will be your muse and I will pleasure you.”

Through the throes of orgasm, Mick watched Raoul fade and disappear from the window seat. Then he closed his eyes and drifted away.

He was cold and sticky when he woke up on floor. He sat up and looked at the empty window seat and the moon perched high in the night sky. He ran a hand through his short blond hair. “What the hell was that?”

After cleaning himself up, Mick sat down at his computer and began to type.

“I’m so glad you agreed to meet me for lunch,” Monique said, looking closely at him. “You look good.”

“Thanks.” Mick smiled thinly, sitting down. “What is it you want?”

She inhaled. “To apologize. I’m so sorry about the other night, Mickey.”

“I wish you had been honest with me, ‘Nique.”

“About what?” She took a sip of her water.

He glared at her. “About how much my writing sucked.”

Taking his hand she said, “You know I don’t think that. Please don’t assume that asshole Dante speaks for all of us.”

Mick relaxed but he gazed deeply into her brown eyes. “I think you were too nice with me about my writing. We’re friends and I know you are a sweet person, ‘Nique, but I need you to be straight with me. I need to trust you. Dante may be an asshole, but I can always count on him to tell me the truth.”

“Agreed.” She squeezed his hand. “Are we okay?”

Mick nodded and placed a disc on the table with his free hand. “Read this and tell me what you think, but only the truth.”

“Okay.” Her thumb brushed over his and she paused. “What’s this? A ring?”

“Yes.”

Monique raised an eyebrow. “A ring is a little out of character for you, Mickey, especially one on your thumb.”

Mick pulled back his hand. “I was looking for more inspiration. Since I’ve been wearing it, my muse has really taken off.”

She gave him a teasing smile and placed her elbows on the table. “You, know, some cultures have superstitions about wearing a ring on your thumb. It’s supposed to weaken your willpower.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said with a smile. He picked up his water glass and turned it in his fingers, his voice was quiet when he continued. “Hey, ’Nique, do you really believe my apartment has a poltergeist?”

She stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Well,” he shrugged. “You believe in those kinds of things, right?”

Leaning forward she said in the same soft tone. “Has something happened?”

Absently he twirled the ring on his finger. “Sort of.”

“Other than your things moving around your apartment?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat and he looked away with guilt. “I’ve been dreaming a lot.”

“What kind of dreams?”

“They are about Raoul.” He felt his cheeks color when he added, “They are very intimate dreams.”

She chuckled and sat back. “Maybe you’re just horny. It’s been a long time since you got any.”

He exhaled, feeling himself relax with her words. “You have no idea how glad I am you said that.”

Tipping her head slyly to the right Monique asked, “And what does the infamous Raoul look like?”

Mick laughed nervously. “If I told you, you’d certainly have me committed.”

“Why?” She leaned on her elbows again, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “Is he a hideous beast?”

“Well… no, he’s just different. He’s…” Mick considered what to say. Raoul wasn’t a dream? That Raoul’s skin was an amazing shade of blue? That he had silver eyes with elliptical pupils? Maybe that Raoul was always naked with a gigantic hard-on? Perhaps he could tell her every time Raoul appeared, Mick fell to his knees, begging for a fuck? A fuck that never happened but one he considered bargaining for? He shook his head. “He has a strange power over me. I feel helpless when I… dream of him but I like it. I want it.”

She blinked. “That was possibly… geez, you have it bad. Sounds like you are in love with your poltergeist.”

“I…” He gazed at her and swallowed. “I think he’s real, ‘Nique.”

Monique blinked again and her features were full of alarm. “Mickey, what are you telling me?”

He knew immediately that he’d made a mistake in taking to Monique about Raoul. She couldn’t help him with the dreams that plagued him. Raoul was something he had to face on his own. He dug deep and forced himself to grin. “Got you.”

She furrowed her brow. “You and I have been friends since High School and you’ve never been able to fool me. What the hell is going on?”

“It was just a joke.” He met her serious, determined stare and sighed. “It’s nothing, okay? Look, I’ve got to go.”

“But you haven’t eaten,” she said.

“I’m not hungry.”

Monique caught his hand and squeezed his fingers. “Why don’t you meet up with us tonight after work? I know Alex felt pretty bad about the other night, too.” She leaned forward. “Come on, you need to get out of the house and it’s just a beer.”

Mick shook his head. “Not tonight. I’ve got a date with my… computer and a new story to write.”

She frowned. “Dante will be so disappointed.”

His happy anticipation of a night of writing faded at the name. “Why would Dante be disappointed? Because he can’t tease me for being a pathetic loser?”

“Mickey…” she studied him. “Is it possible that you really don’t get it?”

Mick blinked. “Get what?”

“Dante’s hot for you. I think he just doesn’t know how to act around you and his approach always comes out as cruel teasing. He’s like that kid in school who picked on the girl he had a crush on.” She sipped her drink. “All three of us were upset that we hurt you the other night, but Dante was inconsolable.”

“I don’t believe you.” Mick’s head spun, Dante liked him? Hadn’t Dante gone so far as to chase after him and apologize to him that night? Then he remembered the words from earlier in the evening, and he shook his head. “Impossible. I know Dante hates me.”

Monique chuckled. “Hardly. Try not to be too hard on him, okay?”

Standing up and kissing her cheek he said, “You’re delusional.”

She grabbed his hand. “You know I’m here for you, right?”

“I know,” he answered. “Try not to think of me as a complete nutcase, okay?”

“I don’t think of you as a nutcase.” She smiled weakly at him.

“Read my story. You can even let Mr. Surly read it if you want to, but tell me honestly what you think, and the sooner the better. I have a decision to make based on what you tell me.”

“What? My opinion matters?”

“Yes, ‘Nigue. Always.”

Squeezing his hand her fingers brushed over the ring and she gasped, pulling her hand away. Blood welled on her fingers from tiny pinpricks where she had touched the band. “Ouch! How did that happen?”

“Are you hurt?” Mick asked, staring at the small wounds. Something bothered him about the injuries.

“No.” She sucked her fingers. “It’s not bad, but it did feel like I grabbed onto some thorns. Your ring is vicious.”

Mick scowled at her. Thorns. The thorns were not visible in the daylight, only in the moonlight. They were only faint etchings on the ring, not real thorns. He observed her wounds again; the small, bleeding holes did look like thorns had pricked her. “Are you sure you are okay?”

Chuckling, she said, “Go. I promise I will read your story tonight.”

“The truth this time, ‘Nique. It’s really important.”

She nodded her understanding.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said before he departed.

The phone rang. “Hello?”

“Mickey? I thought you had a date with your computer.”

“I do.” Mick answered. “I’m meeting him in a few minutes.”

“Well,” she began, “I just wanted to let you know I finished your story.”

“And?” He asked. “Remember, the truth.”

“It’s wonderful. I mean it. It’s the best thing you’ve written. The characters were so real.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She answered. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever written before.”

The words hit him and he didn’t know how to react. Raoul was helping him and Raoul was his muse. What did that mean? “Thanks.”

“Will that help with your decision of trying to get it published?”

“Yeah… something like that.” He lied. What would he do now?

“I gave a copy to Dante and Alex is reading it right now.” He could hear her enthusiasm on the phone. “It’s a keeper, Mickey.”

“Thanks.”

They hung up and Mick gazed out the round window at the full harvest moon. He wondered, his fingertips of his right hand caressing the ring on his left thumb. Should he complete the tie, should he wear the ring tonight? So far, each night the beautiful creature appeared, he’d left Mick spent and craving more, but Raoul hadn’t been free to do what he wished. If Mick wore the ring tonight in Raoul’s presence, their link would finalize. A fragment of his brain warned that Raoul might be dangerous and might kill him, but another part wondered if Raoul was even real. Mick considered the fragility of his sanity.

He heard Monique’s words again, “It’s the best thing you’ve written.” Yes, he would wear it, but his motives were confused. Would he make the contract final for the muse or for the pleasure? Or was it both? The two desires entwining tightly together, the edges blurring so he no longer knew himself what he was truly seeking or craving.

Shaking his head clear of his thoughts, he moved to his computer and began to type. Only minutes later, he felt the wind from an opened window and the lights flickered and went out but oddly, his computer remained running. He turned to see Raoul sitting on the window seat, his quicksilver eyes gleaming in the moonlight, causing Mick’s blood to heat. “Michael, you’ve made a decision?”

Mick nodded, while standing and moving to the window.

“Say my name, Michael.”

“Raoul,” Mick said. The creature trembled with the sound of his name and Mick was transfixed and terrified at the same time.

Raoul stood and stepped away from the window seat, lifting his hand in the process. Long spidery fingers caressed Mick’s cheek delicately. Mick felt the searing, impossible heat from the contact and his entire body began to shake. Raoul closed his eyes and slowly threw his head back, a low, keening sound emanating from what appeared to be intense pleasure.

Mick could barely remain upright from the surging desire he felt. “Will you hurt me now?”

“Hurt you? No Michael, I need you to live a long life. We are now bound, you and I.” He raised his hand, displaying the silver band on the blue-grey index finger. Moonlight revealed the thorny vines on the ring, the same silver-gossamer thorns that decorated Raoul’s skin. They were so real; sometimes Mick was certain he could see the vines moving.

Mick held up his own hand and the same ghostly markings were visible on his ring. He felt the ring tighten unpleasantly, but only for a moment. He looked into silver eyes. “What are you Raoul?”

Raoul shivered when Mick said his name. “I am your protector and your muse and your lover if you wish.”

Mick’s heart beat faster at that declaration. “What am I to you?”

Revealing sharp teeth in a smile, Raoul said, “You are everything to me. You are my master and you give me life.”

“Your master?” Mick shook his head, repeating the words. He didn’t think he was master in this… relationship.

“Yes.” Raoul stared at him, elliptical-shaped pupils glimmering in the light. Leaning closer, his wind-voice dropped lower. “May I pleasure you, now, Michael?”

Mick felt his body respond immediately, his knees turning to jelly from the words he’d longed to hear. “Yes.” Long fingers moved too quickly for Mick to follow and he felt his clothes part and fall from his body. He looked down, seeing the shredded clothing at his feet. “Raoul.”

At the touch of those blue-gray hands, that scorching heat enveloped him again and he felt himself pushed backwards and onto his bed.

“I’ve waited so long for you, my Michael.”

Raoul’s scent was of pre-winter wind and drizzling rain, of bonfire smoke and freshly tilled earth. He was the scent of the harvest moon and Mick inhaled deeply when the naked body covered him. Raoul’s skin was cool to the touch but his tongue was hot. That exceptionally long tongue was everywhere. Mick’s found he was helpless to resist and a searing tongue opened him, invaded and worshiped him.

Saliva from Raoul covered Mick’s entire body and his nipples and cock were on fire from the licking they’d taken. Mick whimpered, he’d come so many times he was delirious and weak when Raoul flipped him onto his stomach and lifted his hips. Raoul’s tongue had prepared him well and that immense blue cock slipped inside him, stretching painlessly, filling him with cool, hard flesh.

Raoul’s strength was such that Mick was nothing more than a doll in his hands, twisted and repositioned over and again. Even though Raoul came several times, he never paused; he was insatiable in his lust and the night continued. Mick was certain he’d lost consciousness a few times, but equally certain even that didn’t stop Raoul. Fucked mercilessly, Mick welcomed the decadent perversion until his mind went completely blank and he remembered no more.

In the morning, he woke alone and for a moment, wondered if he’d dreamed the encounter. He was sore and exhausted in a bed covered with semen, smelling of sweat and the distinctive scent of the harvest moon. Raoul was truly real. He touched the ring on his thumb and it did not move, he couldn’t even twist it any more.

He looked at his computer. Another desire engulfed him and he stood up. Ignoring the crusty, dried emissions, he sat naked at his desk and began to write.

End part 1

part 2

Saiyuki FanFic

2007-10-18T00:12:58Z

Title: Twisting Desire
Author: despina_moon
Fandom: Saiyuki Hakkai/Gojyo
Disclaimer: Definitely not mine
Rating: NC-17 – absolutely none allowed under 18!
Warnings: Oh my. Here’s the prompt and you can decide for yourself: Youkai!Hakkai/Gojyo: semi-noncon, vine!sex, heat of the moment, adrenaline, post-fight - Gojyo had harbored fantasies, but he wasn't sure if he was ready for this.
A/N: I'm a day late - so sorry! Thank you to my lovely, non-squickable betas, imayb1 and jade_heart1, but remember, I touched it last, any mistakes belong to me.

Sorry for spamming, folks!

Twisting Desire

He was tempted. She was tall and slender, her hair was brown and her eyes were green, she was perfect, in an eerily reminiscent way Gojyo felt best not consider too deeply. Her movements had drawn his attention all night; they were precise in a sensuous way, like a predator moving in for an attack. Her heated looks were full of promise and Gojyo held no reservations that she would be a wildcat in bed. He took a drink of his beer and licked his lips, considering his fondness for wildcats.

She eased next to him, dropping her lids to gaze at him through long lashes. She leaned her body closer to him, deliberately allowing her breast to rub against his arm resting on the bar. “Are you certain? My house is not far away.”

Holy gods, he was tempted! His dick throbbed with the thought of spending some time with someone soft, pliable and willing. He gazed at her determined features filled with open, heated desire; she would definitely be a workout. Gojyo realized that now would be a perfect time for a lengthy, fiery tryst. Sanzo and Goku were engaged in some half-assed hunt for some renegade priest Sanzo had a hard-on for and Hakkai…

Gojyo stared into his companion’s green eyes and sighed. “Sorry, honey. I’d love to spend some time with you, but I think someone is calling me.”

She pulled away and pouted at him. “What? Don’t tell me you don’t think I’m good enough.”

“Hardly.” He touched her long dark hair, soft to his fingertips. He knew how it would feel sliding against his skin. “You are quite beautiful.”

“Then why don’t you want to?” She frowned. “Are you into guys or something?”

“I’m beginning to wonder.” He smiled and then drained his mug of beer. Setting his empty glass down, he swiveled on his barstool and turned towards her. Sliding his hands onto her hips and pulling her compliant body close. She felt just as he had imagined and he couldn’t resist giving her the ‘Gojyo Special Kiss,’ tongue and all.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against him, making small noises of desire. She wanted him; there was no doubt. Instead of focusing on the soft flesh moving beneath his hands and the breast pressed firmly against his chest, all Gojyo could think about was Hakkai. The bastard. With an internal sigh, tinged with frustration, he broke the kiss, stood up and gently, but insistently, pushed her away. “I’ve got to go, honey. Someone really is calling.”

He stepped out into the chilly spring night and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. Damn it! Hakkai really was on his mind if he willingly walked away from the first easy lay he’d come across in months. He stood smoking, waiting for his erection to dissipate and blaming Hakkai for his lack of relief. He was on his third cigarette when he finally began the long walk from tavern to inn, unerringly making his way towards Hakkai. Gojyo could see him, on a bed or in a chair, those long legs folded underneath him while he read with Hakaryuu curled up nearby or actually on Hakkai’s lap. Sometimes Gojyo envied Hakaryuu, Hakkai always gave special attention to the pocket-sized pain in the ass.

Gojyo paused to crush out his cigarette and then resumed walking, following the path. The town was an oddity, at one time, it had been two towns, but they had grown close enough together, local villagers now referred to the place as Two Towns. Or, maybe it was Two Villages, or something else equally uninspired. Gojyo didn’t really care what they named their village, he would move on soon enough, when the monkey and the shitty monk returned. The village would become one of many; blurred together in his memory. All he ever remembered was booze, cards and women.

Except the women… more and more, Gojyo was turning them down. Before Hakkai appeared in his life three years earlier, Gojyo was the stud of the century. Holy fuck! What was happening to him? He stuffed his cold hands into his pockets staying on the trail while he mumbled a long line of swear words about Hakkai.

It wasn’t that he was opposed to sex with men, he’d run into it a couple of times, but he’d always been, well, you know, on top. Hakkai was pretty, sexy and hot, to be sure, but a bottom? Hakkai? Gojyo couldn’t reconcile the image and in addition, Hakkai might just break his arm for suggesting it. Of course, Hakkai would also smile patiently, green eyes glowing with barely contained mischief while he administered a lengthy scolding explanation to Gojyo. Eventually, when Hakkai’s sadistic streak was sated, he would heal Gojyo’s arm. Maybe.

Where did that leave Gojyo? On the bottom with a broken arm. Gojyo shivered with trepidation and an unexpected twinge of desire. Hakkai was more complex than ten women and he could mess with Gojyo’s mind like no other, especially now, if Gojyo was considering the bottom path. Then again, maybe it wasn’t Hakkai’s mind, but Hakkai’s ass that could make Gojyo consider many things. Gojyo inhaled deeply and forced Hakkai’s image from his head.

Trees thickened and blocked the moonlight; Gojyo understood why the path was a source of danger in the village. Isolated from the houses, the trail took on a sinister feel. His senses heightened by the possibility of danger. Rumors were rampant about bad things happening on the path at night, people were disappearing and dying. Gojyo suspected rampaging youkai.

Not that he was worried. He was more than a match for a common youkai, or several youkai for that matter. Although, once or twice when he’d been alone, he’d had to fight hard. He halted his steps again, making a slow, unhurried circle in place, gazing in every direction and listening. There was a familiar scent in the air. Gojyo didn’t have Goku’s keen olfactory senses, but he could pick up the sent of blood when there was enough of it. There was enough of it right now.

Gojyo wasn’t a hero; normally he avoided seeking out trouble, but for some reason he felt compelled to step into the dense vegetation. Someone or something was out there. Gojyo’s kappa night vision was keen and he quickly spotted bent foliage, indicating recent traffic. He tracked easily through brush, coming to a clearing. Sharp eyes spied a glint of metal and he bent down to inspect the object closer. It was an ear cuff.

He picked it up, staring at it while his heartbeat doubled and the limiter radiated a soothing pulse in response. Gojyo was certain the cuff was Hakkai’s. He scanned the forest, searching with increasing alarm. He followed the sent of blood and almost stumbled over a corpse. Gojyo looked closer and crouching down, he saw a crushed windpipe and red strangle marks around the dead man’s neck. Something thin had choked him, something like a rope or… a vine.

He stood. What the hell? He wanted to call out for Hakkai, but feared for them both if he did so. If Hakkai was limiter-less, Gojyo needed to find him quickly. Riding the minus wave could be a one-way trip for his friend and Gojyo would not allow that to happen. Of course, there was always a possibility Hakkai might just kill him on sight, but he had to try saving Hakkai. He smiled ruefully, remembering what he’d said in the tavern earlier; maybe Hakkai was calling for him.

A single man could not have removed even one of Hakkai’s ear-cuffs, and fifty would still have a battle on their hands. Hakkai did not allow strangers to touch him. In fact, when he thought about it, Hakkai was uncomfortable when anyone touched him. Gojyo had special privileges in that regard; Hakkai always permitted him contact without limitations. So far, anyway.

Gojyo still smelled blood and he followed the scent, stopping at a mangled corpse resting in a pool of blood. Gojyo poked his foot at the body, flipping it over. The dead man confirmed Gojyo’s theory of marauding youkai. He stepped over more bodies, several were bloody, some with crushed throats, and a few were nothing more than black burn marks and ashes mixed in amongst the foliage. Hakkai was definitely in ass-kicking demon mode. Gojyo moved a little faster. He couldn’t hear any fighting; he couldn’t hear anything except the quiet babble of a nearby stream.

“’Kai?” He called out, turning and watching.

“Don’t Gojyo.” Hakkai’s voice wavered. “Stay where you are. I’m not certain I am… trustworthy at the moment.”

“I have one of your…” Gojyo looked down at his hand, the cuff nestled in his palm. What did he say? I have your power limiter? In truth, limiters were nothing more than magically endowed silver that kept demons tethered to sanity. Normally, Gojyo felt they were unfair constraints but now, during the minus wave, they were very necessary. Hakkai in the throes of demonic insanity would be nearly invincible and that fucking Sanzo wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. No matter the circumstances, Gojyo would never hurt Hakkai. Not that he could if he wanted to. Hakkai in full demon form fought the Seiten Taisei to a stand still – what hope would Gojyo have against power of that magnitude? He was just a measly half-demon.

Yes, he was a measly half-demon, but he desperately wanted to hold onto his friend. Gojyo slid the cuff into a pocket. “Hakkai, where are you?”

“You need to leave me be, Gojyo – I am not myself at the moment.”

Gojyo sighed, craving a cigarette and mentally kicking himself for not leaving the tavern earlier. “Don’t fuck around with me, Hakkai. If I leave you, how will you get to be ‘yourself’ again?” He wanted to ask Hakkai what happened, but at the moment, his focus was to get the ear-cuff in place. Also, a perverted and thrill seeking part of Gojyo wanted to see Hakkai in his demon form; it was a rare hot treat. “Where are you, ‘Kai?”

There was no answer but Gojyo moved towards the stream, sneaking through the forest, hoping to catch a glimpse of a demon Hakkai while remaining undetected. A grimmer part of his brain hoped he didn’t stumble onto Hakkai eating someone. When the bloodletting happened, Hakkai could lose himself. Hell, even with his limiters in place, Hakkai could get stimulated when there was blood around, a curious fetish for someone so fastidious. Gojyo had plenty of turn-ons and although blood wasn’t one of them, he would never begrudge seemingly proper Hakkai his kinks.

Hakkai was speaking coherently and that was a positive sign. He was also concerned for Gojyo, a further indication Hakkai hadn’t turned completely animalistic. Gojyo was tentatively confident he could handle the situation. Maybe.

He saw the glimmer of moonlight on water and he stopped, remaining in the shadows of the forest while he scanned the stream. Gentle sounds of splashing caught his attention and he swiveled his head. Hakkai was in the water, and it looked like he was bathing. Bathing? Gojyo shivered, there were still small patches of snow around the stream bank the water would be indecently cold. Then again, maybe temperature didn’t affect Hakkai in youkai form.

Gojyo stealthily moved closer, his body singing with adrenaline, half with thoughts of seeing a naked Hakkai in demon form and half with the fear of getting caught peeping on a naked Hakkai in demon form. Gojyo gave himself an internal shrug, what was a kappa to do? After all, Hakkai was one of his fetishes.

Gojyo could see blood-soaked clothes piled on the bank and Hakkai’s unclad back. Gojyo could also see extended, delicately pointed ears, shoulder-length hair and fierce long claws. Hakkai was definitely in his full youkai form. Gojyo licked his lips, feeling the usual conflicting emotions fill him. He’d never wanted someone so much and at the same time, feared getting him. What he had now with Hakkai was almost enough; he would hate to mess that up simply because he couldn’t control his baser instincts.

Hakkai reached his arms above his head, stretching his lean body towards the night sky, delicate ivy vines coiling around his arms, back and neck. Gojyo swallowed. On the other hand… Hakkai dropped his arms and turned, eyes staring at Gojyo while he moved to the stream bank. Gojyo chewed on his lip, watching the willowy form emerging from the water, gazing hungrily at the twisting vines, the wicked scar, and knowing he shouldn’t. Gojyo couldn’t help himself and his eyes shifted further down. This time, he caught his breath, seeing a single vine spiraling around Hakkai’s full arousal.

Stopping in front of his bloody clothes, Hakkai knelt down, appearing to rummage through his clothes, all the while maintaining eye contact. Gojyo was mesmerized. He knew he should say something, do something, but Hakkai was so fucking sexy he didn’t feel worthy of speaking, and Gojyo certainly did not want to destroy the moment.

Something was crawling up his leg, several somethings. He looked down to see the small ivy vines looping around his ankles and slithering up his legs. Uncertainty shot though him. “Hey, ‘Kai, wait a minute.” He looked up to plead with his friend, but Hakkai was gone.

“Shit!” He turned his head, looking for Hakkai, but only for a moment. The vines tightened, yanking Gojyo’s feet out from under him. For a moment, while in freefall, he pondered how stupid he was. Instead of leering at Hakkai, he should have figured out how to get the limiter back in place. He closed his eyes, hoping whatever happened next didn’t hurt too badly.

Strong arms caught him before he could catch himself, lowering him gently to the ground. Green eyes, with one elliptical pupil and one round pupil, drilled into Gojyo. “I told you I am not currently trustworthy. You really should not have come this close. I might do something to you.”

“Something?” Gojyo couldn’t help his brash smile while he looked at his friend; after all, Hakkai was holding him. “Like what? You would never hurt me ‘Kai.”

“I might,” Hakkai said. Clawed fingers stroked and tangled in Gojyo’s hair. “Not in the way you might expect, but I am capable of hurting you.”

Gojyo blinked, considering Hakkai’s husky voice and the silken threat twisted inside his words. “Would I like it?”

“Knowing you,” Hakkai released Gojyo’s body and stood. Vines relaxed and slipped away. “Yes. You should go, Gojyo. Run.”

Gojyo stayed on his back, memorizing the sight of a naked Hakkai with a vine twisting around his hard cock. Even thinking about it seemed dirty and wrong to Gojyo. Hakkai didn’t do naked or hard-on, did he? Gojyo continued to gaze at Hakkai, he was in youkai form, maybe that accounted for his difference.

Gojyo sat up. “Nope. I won’t go.”

Hakkai took a step back. “You don’t know, Gojyo. There has been so much blood and in my youkai form, mixed with my intense feelings for you...” He held up a long-clawed hand and looked down at his erection. “I could hurt you and not mean to.”

Intense feelings for you? “Hakkai, do you ever…” Gojyo gazed at Hakkai and he couldn’t finish the sentence. Finally, he stood up and grabbed Hakkai’s arm. “Nevermind. Let’s go.”

Hakkai's eyes narrowed and his nose wrinkled in that prissy Hakkai-way. His voice was low and dangerous, making the word sound like a curse when he hissed: “Perfume.”

There was a frozen moment in time, a second when Gojyo knew he was in serious trouble. The vines were back and this time they were everywhere, and this time he landed on his back with a thud. Hakkai didn’t catch him and because the vines bound his wrists, he couldn’t catch himself, either. When his head hit the ground, he bit his tongue, hard. He tasted blood. “Oww, fuck Hakkai!”

Hakkai was on him in a fraction of a second, sitting on Gojyo’s hips, showing his long teeth and licking his lips. Clawed fingers moved across Gojyo’s chest, parting the fabric of his t-shirt and not caring about slicing the skin beneath. Hakkai leaned over, long, wet hair brushing against Gojyo’s face, while kissing him fiercely. His long tongue, now longer in his youkai form, slipped into Gojyo’s mouth. The sounds Hakkai made when he tasted Gojyo’s blood were beyond erotic.

Gojyo pulled his head to one side, breaking the kiss. “Hakkai?” Gojyo’s voice was hoarse with desire and he felt his own demonic need awakening. He tried to free his wrists but the vines didn’t budge. “I’d appreciate it if you left my pants in one piece.”

Hakkai’s body was cool and wet from his recent bath, and water dripped onto Gojyo, soaking into his clothes or splashing on his exposed skin. The forest floor was soft from a combination of evergreen pine needles and thick moss. The scent of loam, pine, a stream-wet Hakkai and a lingering scent of blood permeated the chilly spring night. Gojyo wasn’t sure what would happen next. Possibly Hakkai would regain his senses and quit, leaving Gojyo hard and horny. The other option was Hakkai wouldn’t quit. Gojyo wasn’t certain which path he feared more.

Hakkai sat with his thighs on Gojyo’s hips, a feral gleam in his mismatched eyes with his scary smile, the smile that said, I know what will make you scream. Creeping foliage covered Gojyo and he heard tearing sounds. As his clothing disappeared, warm evening air rolled over Gojyo’s exposed body. “How am I gonna get back to the Inn, ‘Kai?”

“Quiet, Gojyo.”

Gojyo closed his mouth. There would be no arguing when Hakkai was this determined. Gojyo just hoped it wouldn’t hurt too much. Hakkai’s claws scraped along Gojyo’s ribs, deep enough to break skin but not enough to cause serious injury. Gojyo responded with a low moan, pressing his body into Hakkai’s claws sliding against his chest and down his sides. Hakkai lapped at Gojyo’s blood, his youkai side seemed to gain intensity with every taste. Gojyo could hear Hakkai’s rapidly increasing breathing.

Hakkai crawled up his body, sitting on Gojyo’s chest and positioning his vine tattooed cock above Gojyo’s lips. He pressed the soft, wet tip towards Gojyo’s mouth. Gojyo lapped at the offering, loving the salty taste and growling with frustration at his bonds. “More,” he managed to say.

Shifting to his hands and knees, Hakkai hovered his cock slipping further into Gojyo’s mouth; he sucked at it greedily. Hakkai moaned softly and began to rock slowly, gently fucking Gojyo’s hungry mouth. Gojyo tugged at his restraints again. He wanted to touch Hakkai, and he wanted to grab those lovely hips and force Hakkai’s cock down his throat so deeply he choked. Despite Gojyo’s desire to grab and control Hakkai’s movements, they continued as they were until Hakkai finally pulled away. Gojyo whined at the loss.

Vines gently and insistently pulled Gojyo’s legs wide. Gojyo groaned as Hakkai repositioned himself between his open legs, skin sliding against skin. Hakkai sat back and studied him in a cold, detached way, as if determining what his best course of action might be for gaining entrance.

Gaining entrance? Panicked, Gojyo managed to say, “Lube. There was some in my pocket.”

Hakkai growled, it was an angry sound. Gojyo realized mentioning he carried lubricant might not have been wise. Gojyo felt his legs forced wider apart and back, so his knees bent and his feet were flat on the mossy stream bank. He was vulnerable and helpless, turned on and terrified. Claws scraped Gojyo's hips and down onto his erection. There wasn’t much pressure when Hakkai’s sharp nails dragged across his cock, but enough to cause blood to well. Gojyo couldn’t stop a low wail from escaping his throat when Hakkai’s youkai tongue dragged against the faint cuts.

A stinging sensation collided with absolute pleasure. Gojyo looked down to see Hakkai’s tongue licking his cock, and he couldn’t help feeling the whole scene must be a dream. Hakkai gazed up at him, intense green eyes devouring him visually while his mouth closed over Gojyo’s cock. His strong, pointed tongue delved into Gojyo’s wet slit and then engulfed what he could of Gojyo’s length. Gojyo would have come on the spot if one of the vines had not wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, halting any possibility of orgasm. He was both grateful and disappointed over Hakkai’s precise timing. Still, he reveled in the feel of Hakkai’s hot, velvety mouth and rough tongue working him with unrelenting insistence.

Hakkai’s fingers dipped between Gojyo's open thighs and Gojyo struggled. “Hakkai, your claws…”

Teeth sunk into his cock and Gojyo cried out in actual pain this time. Hakkai raised his eyes again, darkened by unvoiced threat. “I told you to be quiet.”

“Fuck, Hakkai, you bit me! Not to mention your claws are too sharp to…”

Hakkai sat back, salvia dripping onto Gojyo’s groin. “I thought you were convinced I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Gojyo swallowed, his arms pinned, his legs open and exposed with the question of entrance hanging in the air. Lube wouldn’t do much good if razor sharp claws were to administer it. He twisted in his bonds, gazing at his captor. Holy fuck, Hakkai with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, was hot. Gojyo’s cock twitched with his thoughts. He didn’t think Hakkai would hurt him permanently, but there was always a chance Hakkai’s sadistic side might kick in. Gojyo was kind of a freak when it came to sex, and he could tolerate quite a bit, but Hakkai could be scary in normal settings. He was starting to appreciate how scary Hakkai could be when he was letting go.

Hakkai leaned over him, dark hair brushing Gojyo’s face. Whispering in Gojyo’s ear, he said, “You want this, Gojyo. We both know you do.”

Gojyo inhaled the scent of stream water and Hakkai. He was unable to prevent his shiver when Hakkai’s hot breath caressed his face. “Fuck, yes, I want this. I’ve wanted it forever.”

Hakkai sat back and Gojyo saw the small bottle of lube in his claws. He wondered, half heartedly, when that happened. The vines around Gojyo loosened, but remained connected and Hakkai grabbed his hips, rolling Gojyo onto his knees and nudging his legs apart. Gojyo’s whole body was shaking with desire and fear. Hakkai leaned over him, nipping at Gojyo’s neck and claws scratching down his back, lightly breaking the skin. Hakkai’s tongue followed the shallow cuts, slowly working his way lower.

Claws eventually scraped against Gojyo’s ass and Hakkai’s tongue chased after, delivering searing, stinging licks, inflaming Gojyo with more desire than he thought was possible. Palms rubbed the freshly aggravated and raw skin, thumbs parting Gojyo’s cheeks, opening him to the warm summer night, and to Hakkai. Youkai tongue touched Gojyo’s small entrance and Gojyo could not stop his cry of surprise. The tip of Hakkai’s tongue slipped inside, and out again, teasing Gojyo, testing his resolve. Gojyo gasped as the vine around his cock tightened, realizing how close he’d been to coming.

“Not yet, Gojyo.”

Gojyo nodded, his hair brushing his arms. “Right.”

Hakkai’s tongue worked its way deeper inside him, the tip managing barely to tease his sweet spot. Gojyo groaned, wanting more, alarmed with the idea of claws invading him but knowing Hakkai’s thick cock would be too much for him yet. “I can…” he began but Hakkai sat back and interrupted him.

“Quiet.”

Gojyo looked over his shoulder, Hakkai was opening the bottle of lube. Leaning forward, Gojyo felt finger pads on his ass, opening him again. He struggled in earnest now. “Hakkai, wait! Let me do it!”

Vines wound around his neck, pulling his face to the ground, holding his body completely immobile. “I suggest you keep quiet and very, very still.”

Oh, gods, this was going to hurt!

Cool lubricant dribbled on his tongue-expanded hole. Gojyo exhaled, trying to will his body to relax, knowing that fighting it would hurt even more. When the initial foray began, he closed his eyes and waited. The intruder went deeper and then slid out. He felt his cheeks open wider, felt more lubricant anoint his orifice and felt more enter him. He blinked with the sensation, sorting it out in his addled brain.

What was filling him was not flesh it was vines, many vines. They twisted inside him, gently but incessantly stretching him wide, touching intimate places, causing him to groan with pleasure. Gojyo’s cock responded with the strange intrusion, jumping in time to the mild fucking he was getting.

His body twisted suddenly and he was on his back again, legs spread open and Hakkai between them. Hakkai watched his vines and Gojyo’s twitching cock. There was a smug smile on his face. “Are you enjoying yourself, Gojyo?”

Gojyo answer came out as a strangled cry. “Yes.” He couldn’t decide if he should be embarrassed at Hakkai’s watchful gaze while a plant fucked him or more turned on by having that intense gaze take in every moment of his debauchery. Either way, Gojyo was certain this was very, very wrong.

“I didn’t hurt you.” Hakkai’s feral look demanded an answer.

“No.” Gojyo gasped as more greased up vines entered him and moved in tandem. They were moving a little faster now. The one wrapped around his cock loosened and began sliding against him, pumping him in a counter rhythm to the vines in his ass. “Hakkai, stop. If you don’t I’ll…”

“Yes. I want to see it. I want to see you come.” Hakkai almost seemed to purr the words and he leaned closer, as if to see better.

Hakkai’s words were like throwing gasoline on a fire. His scalp and toes started to tingle, sensation spread rapidly. His body tensed and arched while his vision blurred and a loud cry of Hakkai’s name escaped his lips. He was still shuddering, his shaking slowing when he felt Hakkai’s rough tongue lapping at his belly, licking up his cum.

The vines still moved inside him and between that and Hakkai’s tongue, Gojyo’s demon nymph powers took hold and he was immediately hard again. Hakkai finished licking Gojyo clean and sat back. Vines withdrew and loosened on his ankles while Hakkai repositioned them both. He raised Gojyo’s hips and slipped inside.

Gojyo groaned. Hakkai’s cock was hot and silken, much more erotic than the cool, lubricated though rough, vines. He could feel another orgasm building already. Hakkai began with a slow rhythm, taking his time, watching Gojyo while he fucked him, a penetrating gaze taking note of every breath and every sound Gojyo made. His claws moved over Gojyo’s skin, occasionally drawing blood. Hakkai strokes would gain intensity with every lick at Gojyo’s shallow wounds.

Hakkai shifted, moving Gojyo to his side, straddling Gojyo’s right thigh and raising the left. Hakkai was thorough, snapping and twisting his hips with a sensuality to rival Gojyo’s talent. Gojyo would have wondered aloud about Hakkai’s skill, but instead he gasped, when one of the vines slipped inside next to Hakkai’s cock, stretching Gojyo further and massaging his prostate. The vine addition inside him raised his excitement and pleasure to new heights, cold vegetation and warm flesh thrusting into him in tandem.

“Yes.” Hakkai demanded, tongue flicking out to lick his lips, eyes half lidded, gazing hungrily down at Gojyo. “Together.”

Gojyo could feel Hakkai’s cock thicken, stretching him even wider. Then, he couldn’t consider anymore because his body tensed again and between Hakkai’s movements and the vine’s ministrations, and he came a second time. Hakkai hissed and pulled Gojyo upright, driving himself impressively deep, his hips jerking while pressing into and spilling himself inside Gojyo. Gojyo’s head cleared enough that he could see the look of contented satisfaction on Hakkai’s lovely face.

Vines disappeared into nothingness. Gojyo slipped his arms around his lover’s neck, whispering in Hakkai’s ear said, “I think I could do that again.”

“Right now?” Hakkai’s arms tightened and he licked Gojyo’s neck in return. “Didn’t I tell you I’m capable of hurting you in this form? Maybe you should have run.”

Gojyo could feel Hakkai’s cock and it was still very interested. Laughing, Gojyo shook his head. “I am half water sprite; I’m always ready to go. Even if taking on a full fledged demon is more work than it looks like.” Squeezing Hakkai, Gojyo winked at his best friend and lover. “Besides, it’s my turn.”

Hakkai’s ears twitched and his eyes narrowed. “Really?”

Gojyo smiled again and slipped one limiter cuff on to Hakkai’s ear. “Once we find your other ear cuffs, of course.”

“They’re with my clothes,” Hakkai said with his own smile.

“Are they?” Gojyo asked. “Did you take them off before you knew I was here or after?”

Hakkai’s smile widened, his long teeth glimmering in the moonlight. “I think it’s time for round two.”

Gojyo blinked. “What?”

“Don’t you want to?” Hakkai teased while claw-tipped fingers dug into Gojyo’s hip.

Gojyo gasped, his cock already responding to his lover. “Fuck yes, I want to! I want to all night!”

Sanzo was drinking coffee and reading the paper when Hakkai and Gojyo, appearing like two strays, wandered in. He peered over the edge of the newspaper and involuntarily raised an eyebrow. Hakkai was practically dragging Gojyo through the door to the Inn and the Kappa was severely underdressed, in fact, what he did wear looked shredded.

Hakkai smiled as he usually did. “Oh, hello Sanzo. Any luck finding the man you were hunting?”

Sanzo grunted at him and then retrieved his lit cigarette from the ashtray. He took a long drag from his smoke contemplating how much he really wanted to know. Tipping his head at Gojyo he asked, “What happened to him?”

“I’m fine!” Gojyo nearly shouted.

“Hmm.” Sanzo took another drag, noticing the long scratches nearly everywhere visible on the redhead. Sanzo was not a fool, he knew how the two felt about one another, but he really didn’t need to know details.

“Oh, Gojyo had a little run-in with a demon. I’ll fix him up and he’ll be good as new.” Hakkai glanced over the room. “Where’s Goku.”

“Sleeping,” Sanzo answered.

“Sleeping?” Gojyo gazed at the table. “But it’s breakfast time.”

Sanzo shrugged. “He was tired.”

Hakkai and Sanzo exchanged gazes.

Gojyo began to chuckle and then howled in pain. He glared at Hakkai. “What was that for?”

“Come on.” Hakkai led Gojyo toward their room. “Let’s get cleaned up. I’m tired, too.”

Sanzo watched the two disappear behind the closed door. Taking another deep drag, he mumbled, “About time.” Then he turned his attention back to his newspaper.

Samurai 7, Kyuuzo/Katsushiro

2007-10-07T17:48:56Z

Title: Of Idols and Swords
Author: despina_moon
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Um, sex? Lots of cliché-ness?
Word Count: 5144
Summary/Prompt: Samurai 7, Kyuuzo/Katsushiro: hero worship - "Go away."
Beta: imayb1 (I touched it last.)
A/N: A day late, my sincere apologies. This story is a belated birthday, gift for jmchau. Cross posted to springkink

The young one looked at me when I killed Hyogo. His eyes glittered with admiration and devotion. No one except the true samurai noticed my scrutiny of the young one. The others misunderstand the economy of my eye movement as not seeing, but they are simple. Not being aware of everything could leave me dead. Conversely, obvious observation could leave me equally dead.

The young one remains a clean sheet of paper awaiting the ink from a calligrapher’s pen. He is pure in his passion, an irresistible temptation for the others to goad and rile him. He exhibits traits of an untrained youth, convinced the world exists in only black and white. Yet, it his innocence that draws me to him and I fear: eventually, he will be my undoing. I will definitely be his. I believe I could show greater kindness if I killed him instead of…

Later, I saw his crestfallen look when he spied me with the girl, misinterpreting her kindness for something else. The others assumed his sadness was due to his feelings for the girl, but they do not see clearly. They are all honorable, the others, but they are blind. All of them are ignorant, with the exception of the true samurai and possibly the one with the halberd, although I have not concluded my assessment of him. I am unsure if the halberd samurai is clear-minded or simply sly.

I never think of individuals by name. In my mind, I assign them descriptions. This simple process has saved me from the confusion of emotional loss. Not acknowledging a person’s name insulates me from the intimacy of friendship. Considering I have spent the majority of my life carrying out assassinations, my avoidance of complicated relationships has proven a great asset. On more than one occasion, my assignment has been to kill someone with whom I work. Had I called him friend, thought of him by name, the task might have proven difficult.

In the end, I must strive to contain my own desires. Now, in particular, is not the time for frivolousness; I am involved in a war. Likely, the young one will perish in this honorable and foolish undertaking, but I will not mourn him. I do not appreciate sorrow or even desire for that matter; they both cloud my mind and dull my senses. I relish honorable battle, fighting with an equal, something I haven’t done in years. I will carry out my duties and fight to save this tiny village, all so I may have a chance to fight the one with the long hair, the last remaining true samurai. I attempt to hold myself on course; I struggle to remain constant on the path to that awaited fight. Yet… despite my intentions, I hear the young one calling to me.

Katsushiro considered his sanity as he stepped cautiously through the dense undergrowth of the forest. One leaf rustling or the snapping of a tiny twig would alert the sleeping blond-haired man to his presence. Discovery was something Katsushiro didn’t want, at least, he didn’t think he wanted Kyuuzo knowing he was nearby and watching him. Again.

The blood-red coat beckoned to Katsushiro and he moved closer, each step painstakingly slow, his foot coming down in the tangled brush like a stalking cat’s, testing the ground before applying his weight. He was a young, inexperienced samurai, but each time he attempted to get close to Kyuuzo without waking him, Katsushiro felt his skill in stealth increase. He stopped behind a small copse of skinny trees, his heart thumping in his chest. This was the closest he had ever come without discovery and he felt rather pleased. He shifted slightly, trying to get a better angle on his target when his shoulder caught a low hanging limb and dislodged some dead leaves.

He froze, watching the two leaves float past him. Silently exhaling, he realized no one could have heard the leaves unless they stood where he was, even he’d barely heard them. His eyes moved back to the sleeping Kyuuzo but no one was there.

Shit.

Katsushiro’s head moved, quickly scanning the area. Kyuuzo was on the move and there was a very good possibility he was the target. He retreated, moving quietly, but knowing each step was a beacon to his whereabouts. Katsushiro thought Kyuuzo might kill him this time. He turned in panic and nearly severed his own head on Kyuuzo’s crossed swords.

“Kyuuzo-dono,” he said, feeling the deep blush already color his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Kyuuzo asked his features unreadable as the tone in his voice.

“I…” Katsushiro swallowed, staring at the glinting steel.

Kyuuzo’s swords did not move and his eyes drilled into Katsushiro. “Death. Is that your wish?”

“No. I want…” Katsushiro swallowed again. What did he want? His gazed raked over the red coat, remembering his one glimpse of the black-clad bodysuit underneath. Katsushiro swallowed and clenched his fists, unsure what to say to the amazing man in front of him. Kyuuzo was graceful, skilled and deadly, a real samurai, someone far above clumsy and inept Katsushiro. He bowed deeply, careful to avoid the razor-sharp swords. He felt a sting in his eyes from unshed tears of hot embarrassment and loss; he was not worthy to watch Kyuuzo. He could not shame himself like this again. “I apologize, Kyuuzo-dono, for bothering you.”

In one fluid movement, Kyuuzo placed his swords back in either end of the long scabbard he wore. Stepping close, Kyuuzo’s eyes never left his but he smiled tightly. Maybe not entirely a smile but it was definitely not Kyuuzo’s normal frown. What did that mean?

Katsushiro could only come to one conclusion. He closed his eyes in preparation for death. He wouldn’t mind if Kyuuzo were the one to wield the sword that would slay him, in fact he considered it an honor that the Great Kyuuzo would deem him important enough to kill. Katsushiro’s death would be quick and painless and for that, he was grateful. He whispered, “Kyuuzo-dono.”

What he felt was far more confusing than a sword-tip. He felt fingertips on his cheek and then his lips - ghostly, gentle touches. His head spinning, he stepped back, his foot catching in thick brush and he fell on his ass. Katsushiro’s head was still foggy and he felt weak when he looked up at Kyuuzo’s serious features.

Kyuuzo’s always spoke in monotone and now was no different. He said, “Do not repeat this foolishness. You will kill us both.”

Katsushiro’s mouth was dry and his thoughts jumbled. Even if he’d known what to say, he doubted he couldn’t have formed a coherent sentence. All he could manage was to stare into Kyuuzo’s unfathomable eyes.

Kyuuzo awarded him a smirk and then turned, disappearing quickly into the forest.

I saw the look he gave me when I practiced alone in the forest. My swords sang through the air while I worked through the forms. I could see his cheeks, bright with his pure exuberance and his worship of my skill, of me. In spite of my words, his ‘clandestine’ visits had become annoyingly regular. At first, I was determined to ignore him, attempt to insulate us both from the pain of a physical encounter, no matter how superficial. We were in an occupation not suited for relationships of any kind. I was weak, though, and began to make a game of ending my practices with pointing my swords at him. Initially, I convinced myself that my actions were to frighten him, but I knew that the opposite would happen. He became further enamored of me.

For a brief moment, I considered teaching him. My time was limited, however, because training the villagers was already a priority. Also, he would lose his bright passion if I trained him, even so, I contemplated it. He was not clumsy and with time, he would learn the sword passably. He would never equal me, but my training was of a different nature, begun almost before I could walk. I am the best. If he wishes to be samurai, it is reasonable he should adore me.

He is tempting, but I must discourage him, for his own sake and mine. If I took him for a lover, we would both suffer. His unblemished purity is what draws me to him, and ironically, if I followed my desires, his purity is what I would rob from him. At this point, I am able to deny him only because discipline is my life. If I were to lose control, I would certainly place us both at risk. Lust clouds the mind and obscures clarity, something I cannot allow at this dangerous time.

Now, there was an additional problem. The halberd samurai has taken to watching the young one watch me, amused by the drama unfolding between us. The halberd samurai is sly, after all. Sly can be an exceptionally valuable trait if used with discretion and skill, however, it is a talent I lack and do not understand. Perhaps his slyness and interference will destroy both the young one and me and still, I am tempted.

Katsushiro's eyes watched the dual swords spin. To him, when Kyuuzo practiced, his feet never seemed to touch the solid ground. He was like some golden haired god, some ethereal being that didn’t belong on earth. Katsushiro shifted slightly, attempting to ease his erection without drawing Kyuuzo’s attention. His body’s reaction embarrassed him, but he couldn’t help it.

Watching Kyuuzo heated Katsushiro’s blood in ways he’d never experienced before. He’d been hard before, of course, and pleasured himself, of course, but that reaction had never come from watching a samurai practice. Now he wanted… well, he didn’t know for sure what he wanted other than to be near the willowy, blond-haired man.

Katsushiro heard a noise behind and to the right and he tipped his head in that direction. He saw a momentary shadow in the forest, but he was unsure of what it might me. For a moment, he considered staying in place, but that was not his job, not the assignment Kambei-dono had given him. With an internal sigh, he turned in the direction of the sound, only to see a flash of black pass him by. A coatless Kyuuzo was silently moving past him and towards the sound. Katsushiro ran after him.

Jumping over the under brush and dodging tree limbs, Katsushiro ran, but he wasn’t certain what he ran for. Was he rushing to save the village or was he rushing to see Kyuuzo? He didn’t know where his priorities lay anymore. His thoughts continued to wander, distracting him from his surroundings, and then a thin branch with thorns slapped against his face. He immediately felt blood trickling from the shallow wound but he continued to run.

The forest thinned into an open meadow and instinctively, Katsushiro slowed, but he was too late. Instantly, double swords threatened him, one at his throat and one lower down. Freezing in place, he hoped Kyuuzo would toy with him the way he normally did, a teasing look in those cold, dark eyes, while twin blades whirled around him, sometimes going so far to slice a hair or two. Katsushiro relished those moments, but this meeting, he realized with some panic, felt different.

Kyuuzo's blades flashed on either side of him, so close that the breeze from their passing caused his hair and clothes to move, and the sharp edges came closer than they ever had before. Katsushiro stepped back, retreating and concerned that Kyuuzo was truly angry with him. After all, Kyuuzo had warned him to stay away and on top of that, Katsushiro had been lax in his duties. He deserved Kyuuzo’s disapproval.

He stepped back again, and again. Katsushiro was convinced Kyuuzo was actually trying to kill him. Now that he thought about it, not following through with his duty might cause Kyuuzo to kill him. Once again, he embraced the idea of dying at Kyuuzo’s hands.

A tree halted his backward progress and he stopped, waiting for the deathblow, this time with his eyes open. Kyuuzo held motionless, his perfect body like finely a carved statue, his black body suit clinging to every part of him, leaving little to Katsushiro’s imagination. He thought the sight a fine thing to see before dying.

The blades moved so fast Katsushiro could not track them, but he heard their solid sound as they sunk into the tree on either side of him. The sharp blades pointed at him, at his left there was one at hip level and on his right, one near his shoulder. Kyuuzo stood directly in front of him blocking him and with Katsushiro’s back against the tree; he was effectively caged. He could try to dodge under the swords, but Katsushiro knew Kyuuzo would catch him before he could take more than a couple of paces. He waited, his breath shallow and quick, and in spite of his fear, his body shamelessly reacted to Kyuuzo’s proximity.

Kyuuzo placed his right hand near Katsushiro’s head, moving forward until Katsushiro could feel heat radiating from his lean, muscular frame. Kyuuzo leaned his face close to Katsushiro’s, his intense eyes steadily probing, delving deep. Katsushiro was at a loss, he had no idea what Kyuuzo was trying to convey to him. He was further confused when Kyuuzo’s head shifted slightly and he licked the blood from Katsushiro’s cheek, slowly and deliberately.

Katsushiro blinked. “Ky…Kyuuzo-dono? What are you…”

Kyuuzo’s tongue lapped at the blood again, saliva causing the slight gash to sting. Katsushiro moaned with the odd sensation and he was achingly and fully erect. One of Kyuuzo’s feet slid between Katsushiro’s and that long, lean body pressed against him.

“Kyuuzo-dono,” Katsushiro whispered. He pressed back with his hips, not caring that Kyuuzo would be able to feel his erection.

Lips crushed against his and Katsushiro’s eyes widened in surprised and then closed in ecstasy. He accepted the kiss, relaxing his mouth and allowing Kyuuzo’s tongue to slip inside his mouth, bringing the metallic taste of blood and Kyuuzo’s singular flavor. Katsushiro wasn’t sure, but he thought his head might explode when he realized Kyuuzo’s hand had found a way inside his pants and gripped his throbbing cock.

“Ky… ah!” He decided in a haze that his head wouldn’t explode, at least not the one on his shoulders.

Kyuuzo had managed to loosen Katsushiro's pants completely and after exposing his erection to the chill air, Kyuuzo opted to watch instead of kiss. Rubbing his thumb against the wet, dripping slit of Katsushiro’s erection, Kyuuzo slicked his fingers and the twitching cock beneath them. Then the blond began to stroke Katsushiro with meticulous thoroughness.

Katsushiro pushed ineffectually against Kyuuzo’s hand. The sharp sword blades forced caution on him and he did not have much room to resist. “No, Kyuuzo-dono. Please don’t, I’ll… ”

Kyuuzo continued to pump his cock, squeezing and caressing, bringing Katsushiro to the culmination of his pleasure with lightening quickness. Katsushiro couldn’t stop the building orgasm but managed to contain his cry of pleasure by biting his lip. He was thankful for that modicum of control; he didn’t need Shichiroji or Kikuchiyo to see him like this, his back to a tree with his pants around his ankles.

His thoughts cleared and although he was still shaking with post-orgasmic weakness, Katsushiro’s head snapped up to stare at his assailant. Kyuuzo gave him a half smile and released Katsushiro’s now hypersensitive cock. He took a step back, allowing Katsushiro room to redress.

While he refastened his clothing, still carefully avoiding injury on the dual blades, he gazed at Kyuuzo’s amused features. His cheeks heated with the understanding of what Kyuuzo’s had just done to him. Was Kyuuzo making fun of him? Katsushiro was beyond confused. “Why did you do that?”

Kyuuzo purposefully licked every drop of cum from his hand. After he finished he said, “Do not return unless you are prepared. I will not hold back next time.” Then he pulled his swords from the tree, turned and walked away.

Katsushiro furrowed his brow, watching Kyuuzo's perfectly built, black-clad body melt into the forest. Prepared? What did he mean? Katsushiro touched his lips, his body still shocked and humming with the residual effects Kyuuzo’s treatment. Did Kyuuzo mean… Katsushiro’s body burst into heat and his cock was immediately hard again. He slouched against the tree, considering bringing himself off a second time, right there. He even reached down, intending to do just that, when another person materialized from behind a tree.

“You sure know how to pick them, Katsu-chan.” Shichiroji smirked at him, his eyes traveling over Katsushiro’s body knowingly. “That’s quite the case of hero worship you have.”

Katsushiro gained his feet and the anger burst out of him. “This is none of your business!”

Chuckling, Shichiroji said, “You’re absolutely correct, of course. It’s really not my business.”

“Do you…” Katsushiro didn’t know how to ask the questions so he closed his mouth again.

Shichiroji frowned and tapped his halberd against his shoulder, studying Katsushiro. “You do know what he was telling you, don’t you? What he meant by being prepared if you come back again?”

“I… uh. I’m not sure.” Katsushiro answered.

Shichiroji blinked at him. “Oh my, you are innocent, aren’t you?”

Katsushiro’s embarrassment grew and he looked down.

“That guy is like a barely contained wildcat, and now you have his passion flowing. He might just tie you to a tree, screw you for days and then leave you.”

“Sc… screw? You mean…”

Shichiroji nodded. “Kyuuzo’s hard dick up your ass, yes, that’s what I mean by screw. Oh, you’re blushing! That is too adorable and after what you just did?”

“Yo… you saw?”

“You might watch that stutter of yours, Katsu.” Shichiroji grinned. “Good show, by the way. He seems to know what he’s doing but, Kambei or me, we would be far gentler with you.”

Katsushiro stared at Shichiroji, he had heard stories about the samurai and their students, of course, but this revelation surprised him. “Ka…Kambei-dono?”

“Sure.” Shichiroji shrugged. “Although I’m better. Kyuuzo, well, I don’t think tender is part of his vocabulary.” He leaned closer to Katsushiro. “Maybe you’d like it rough?”

“Shichiroji-dono,” Katsushiro answered. His face heated and for a moment, he considered Shichiroji’s words. Katsushiro had no problem imagining Shichiroji doing that, but Kambei or Kyuuzo? With Katsushiro as a partner? The thought seemed implausible to him.

Laughing, Shichiroji said, “Well, it seems Kyuuzo has your attention for the moment and you have his. I think you should take it as a compliment, Katsu. Kyuuzo doesn’t do things he doesn’t want to do.”

“You think so?”

Shichiroji chuckled and clapped Katsushiro on the back. “Okay, first, we need to find you some lubricant. I suspect Kyuuzo’s not usually on the bottom.”

Katsushiro didn’t really want to hear the rest, but he felt it reasonable to learn all he could. Possibly, sometime in the future he might want to have sex with someone and Shichiroji would help him be prepared. Not with Kyuuzo, though. No. Never with Kyuuzo, he was too… perfect.

I saw the look in his eyes when I crested the cliff face, blade between my teeth while I leapt free of the loose boulders. I saw his face when I tossed the salvaged gun I’d carried up the cliff to the mechanic. The blush on his cheeks and his shinning eyes made his adoration apparent. None of the others noticed the intense gaze that passed between the young one and me.

I gave my report, my exhausted body obeying me, even though the young one was so close. I had been careless and I had allowed him to infiltrate my thoughts. Even as I climbed the path to my customary spot in the forest, my thoughts drifted to him. I knew the halberd samurai had spoken to him after our last encounter. In fact, I had listened to the entire conversation from the dense forest.

It did not take long for him to come to me. Perhaps only minutes had passed before I heard his footfalls through the brush. I drew my sword on him, torn between my irritation at being disturbed from the sleep I desperately needed and my irritation at my weakness for him. My amusement at seeing his feverish face full of hero worship soothed the edges of my ragged temper. His words, although I do not remember them exactly, were hesitant and full of stammered apologies. As usual, I said nothing, merely watched him: the slight trembling of his limbs, his pupils dilated with excitement, as he struggled to articulate his words. When I said nothing and showed him no compassion, he turned away.

I tried to resist, I really did, but before I knew it, I was up and running. I caught him only feet away, my swords still drawn. For the second time, I pressed the advantage with my weapons and he did not resist. Backing away, nervously licking his lips, his body language cried out for ravishment. Quickly sheathing my swords, I removed my coat and placed in on the ground. I took his hand and gently lay him down.

Katsushiro’s body was on fire and every touch from Kyuuzo's long, graceful fingers made him want even more. Shichiroji’s assessment of the samurai was correct in that Kyuuzo was well skilled and knowledgeable about sex. However, Shichiroji was incorrect about Kyuuzo being rough, and Katsushiro should have known better. Kyuuzo was a methodical being; it made perfect sense he would take the same care in bringing his lover to a plateau of euphoria that he used to take an enemy apart in battle.

Katsushiro caught his breath as fingers teased his nipples, something he never thought would be so erotic. His body bowed, lifting into Kyuuzo’s caresses and Katsushiro whimpered with need. His cock nearly whimpered with him, it was so stiff and straight it rubbed against his belly, pre-come dripping and pooling on his supersensitive skin. A tongue and teeth replaced the fingers at his nipples and Katsushiro jolted with sensation and then sighed with pleasure.

Kyuuzo sat back on his heels, tugging off the remainder of Katsushiro’s clothing. Lying completely naked on the red coat, watching fireflies in the night sky, awash in the spicy masculine scent of Kyuuzo, and his legs spread, Katsushiro felt wanton, needy and wicked. Kyuuzo studied his nude body with a quiet intensity that caused Katsushiro to squirm.

Kyuuzo moved closer and his strong hands traveled Katsushiro’s body, beginning at the shoulders, over his chest, across his stomach, pausing at his hips then resuming their travels. Lightly, Kyuuzo stroked Katsushiro’s skin down his right thigh, his calf and finally, to his foot. Katsushiro shivered, wanting more. Kyuuzo shifted and his fingers began a return trip up Katsushiro’s left leg. Kyuuzo refused to be rushed, but Katsushiro whined with impatience.

Kyuuzo placed a palm on either thigh and pressed them apart, forcing Katsushiro to place his feet flat on the ground, opening himself for further scrutiny. Elegant fingers danced and teased the reactive skin on his inner thighs and Katsushiro’s balls tightened in anticipation of Kyuuzo’s touch on his most intimate regions. Kyuuzo continued to study Katsushiro while his fingers worked.

Katsushiro felt exposed and vulnerable, but excited like never before. “More,” he urged.

Kyuuzo leaned forward and lapped the pre-come from the slit of Katsushiro’s erection. Katsushiro nearly came to orgasm at the feel of Kyuuzo’s tongue rippling against the wet, flared tip of his penis.

Kyuuzo sat back, licking his lips, a teasing half-smile on his face. “You are impatient. Savor what you feel.”

Katsushiro blinked. Dark eyes gazed at him steadily and quickly filled him with more desire than ever. “Kyuuzo.”

Stroking Katsushiro’s cheek Kyuuzo said, “I will fill you, if you will allow it.”

Katsushiro shivered at his words. “Yes.”

“You must be patient.”

“Yes.”

Kyuuzo reached for a pocket in his coat and withdrew a small bottle. Once he opened the stopper, he covered the fingers of his right hand in glistening liquid and then recapped the bottle. His left hand rested against Katsushiro’s right, inner thigh and one moist finger slid below his balls, caressing highly receptive flesh. Stimulation shot through Katsushiro’s nerve-endings, his body arched and he rubbed against Kyuuzo’s fingers. Kyuuzo’s hand pressed against his thigh and hip, stilling Katsushiro. Then Kyuuzo slipped his lubricated finger down the crevice between Katsushiro’s ass cheeks.

Katsushiro held his breath. The tip of Kyuuzo’s finger swirled against his tiny opening, dipping in shallowly and withdrawing, only to repeat the process. Each time, the finger invaded a little deeper and each time Katsushiro held his breath. Shichiroji had warned him of pain, but the progress was so slow and easy there was no pain. Kyuuzo’s licked the tip of his cock again and Katsushiro’s body tensed and then relaxed. He found himself trusting Kyuuzo’s touch more, and when a second fingertip slipped inside next to the first, beginning the routine anew, his only reaction was to moan.

Time stopped while Kyuuzo learned Katsushiro’s body and tested his reactions. Katsushiro allowed it all, his body malleable and vulnerable to the man he worshiped. He enjoyed Kyuuzo’s attention, craved it even. Something was happening inside Katsushiro and he didn’t know how to identify it or how to describe it. All he knew was that the new feeling made his heart ache.

Katsushiro felt as if he was in a fever dream and his only connection was to Kyuuzo. His body was turned, first to his side and then onto his stomach. His hips were nudged gently into the air and Kyuuzo fingers were immersed deeply inside him again. Katsushiro realized calmly there were more than fingers destined to penetrate him.

Kyuuzo placed his hand on Katsushiro’s right hip. Katsushiro could feel Kyuuzo’s wide cock bump against him and then with painstakingly slowness, Kyuuzo began to enter him. Stretched and needy, Katsushiro exhaled, allowing himself to accept the steady, careful invasion. Gentle expansion of Katsushiro’s taut passage had pushed him to the limit of his endurance. When he thought he could take no more, Kyuuzo stopped, sizable cock nestled fully inside him.

Kyuuzo waited. “Are you hurt?”

Katsushiro stared at the red coat and inhaled the scent of Kyuuzo and the forest mingled together; it was heady stuff. Was he hurt? No. He was embarrassed and yet harder than he’d ever been in his life. Kyuuzo, his idol, his hero, had his cock buried deep inside him. Was he hurt? No, but he did find himself unable to articulate exactly what he was feeling. Shame and desire, adoration and humility all mixed to form confusion. Finally, he shook his head, his long hair falling over his eyes. “No.”

Kyuuzo’s large hands floated over Katsushiro’s back and sides, soothing him, calming the cacophony of conflicting emotions inside, and yet firing his blood further with fever-heat. Kyuuzo's left hand slipped onto his chest, fingers spread wide, nearly covering Katsushiro’s entire torso. Kyuuzo curled into him, both hands now traveling Katsushiro’s body, fingers sliding against skin with silken warmth. The profoundly tender and intimate gesture completely stunned Katsushiro.

To think Kyuuzo would acknowledge him, much less treat him with such reverence was overwhelming and his deep feelings for the blond-haired loner increased. He knew Kyuuzo was careful, unlikely to be frivolous with his affection, but this sweetness was more than Katsushiro had ever imagined. Every movement the normally taciturn Kyuuzo made spoke of desire and devotion.

“Kyuuzo,” he said in a whisper, his voice thick with emotion as he tried to convey the totality of what he felt with a single word. Admiration, passion and something deeper were in his voice, and he spoke again, “Kyuuzo.”

“Yes.” Kyuuzo’s one syllable acknowledged all they shared.

Katsushiro felt his lover move gently inside him. “Yes,” he responded, “more.”

Kyuuzo was deliberate and cautious with his initial movements until Katsushiro began rocking his hips back to meet the slow, delicious strokes. Kyuuzo seemed to understand and increased his tempo, twisting his hips and sliding against that amazing spot inside Katsushiro. His release was near when Kyuuzo paused and withdrew. Katsushiro began to protest but Kyuuzo pressed at his side, turning him, placing Katsushiro on his back. Gazing up at the night sky, his legs shaking from exertion, Katsushiro began to realize hours had passed while Kyuuzo made love to him.

He watched fireflies dance and court above him in the trees, his body still aching with need, but feeling a profound sense of completion. When Kyuuzo’s blond head came into focus, his breath caught and he finally understood the deep, unidentified emotion he was experiencing. He could not deny that blossoming from skilled touches and exquisite kisses, what he felt was love.

Sitting back between Katsushiro’s open legs, Kyuuzo gazed down intently, eyes devouring Katsushiro. In response, Katsushiro stared with obvious hunger, watching the play of muscles under Kyuuzo’s porcelain skin, perfect even with the occasional mark of a scar. Finally, with graceful control, Kyuuzo leaned forward, lifted Katsushiro’s hips and slid completely inside him in one movement, and his agonizingly slow thrusts resumed.

Katsushiro growled in frustration and pressed back. He was close to an orgasm, tingling with need, but Kyuuzo had held him on the edge for a long time, denying him the final prize. Katsushiro was exhausted and just when he felt sure, he couldn’t take much more, one of the strong, elegant hands closed over his aching cock and stroked.

“Kyuuzo, I…”

Spicy kisses silenced his words. His heightened senses were electrified and his exhausted body responded with renewed action, reviving under Kyuuzo’s guidance. Moments later, kisses also silenced the low, keening cry that pealed from his throat while he experienced the most intense orgasm of his life.

Kyuuzo’s motions never increased in speed, but Katsushiro’s vision cleared in time to see dark eyes slide shut in bliss. Kyuuzo did not disguise the serene look of passion on his beautiful features and he said one word, “Katsushiro.”

Katsushiro blinked; he had never before heard Kyuuzo use anyone’s name. Inexperienced he might be, but he understood the deep implication. Kyuuzo did not consider this encounter frivolous and Katsushrio’s heart soared. Curling next to Kyuuzo, Katsushiro’s eyes closed in sated fatigue.

I stared at the sky, watching the stars wheeling in the sky while I listened to the cicadas' love call. My lover slept soundly next to me. The war we had been preparing and waiting for would come the next day. While I watched Katsushiro sleep, his dark hair spread out on my red coat, I wished, for the first time in my life, that the battle would never come.

Sailor Moon:Sailor Stars Fic - An Eternity of Pleasure, Part 3

2007-09-04T12:29:24Z

Whew! Finally it is finished!

I'm not sure I really managed to pull this off as a 'first time sex' fic. I found it difficult to not write it to a higher level of experience/knowledge for the two of them, but I was hoping to still be able to portray the nervousness, uncertainties and even doubts afterwards, yet still hold the romance. Ah, well, I tried.

Title: An Eternity of Pleasure (sequel to ‘A Moment of Passion’ found at Fanfiction.net)
Author: JadeHeart
Fandom: Sailor Moon: Sailor Stars (anime)
Pairing: Seiya/Usagi
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance
Warnings: sexual situations (16 year olds)

Summary: Usagi and Seiya make a commitment to each other and choose to take those first steps together.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this, they belong to the creators of ‘Sailor Moon’, nor am I making any profits from it.

-oOo-

Chapter 3

Seiya finally felt his racing pulse ease a little, gradually returning to a more normal steady beat.

He took a deep breath and carefully rose to his elbows to gaze down at Usagi. She lay there with eyes closed, her long blonde hair splayed out around her head and across the floor. Her cheeks were still flushed and he could see the soft rosy hue across her upper body also. Her breathing also had slowed, and she looked as though she were asleep.

He leant down and lightly kissed her cheek, seeing that she made no sound or movement at his touch. She probably was asleep, it had been an emotional night. For both of them, acknowledging his own weariness.

He eased his lower body away from where it still rested between her legs, reaching down with one hand to guide his softened shaft from her warm body. As he fully slipped from that recess he glanced up quickly to see a small frown line appear between Usagi’s brows for a moment as she gave a soft murmur, then she seemed to settle back again. He gave a soft sigh of relief as he continued to pull fully away from her, sliding to one side of her body to sit up.

He was now in a bit of a quandary as to what to do next. He fumbled as he slipped the condom from his limp shaft, grimacing a little as some leaked onto his fingers, wrinkling his nose in distaste. He looked around the room, pondering his options. No, there was nothing here. That meant that the only place was the bathroom after all.

He knelt and pulled the robe gently over Usagi’s body, placing a soft kiss to her forehead as he stood, seeing her half roll on her side and curl her legs up with another sleepy sigh. He stroked her hair, lightly touching her cheek once more before he turned to leave the room.

He quickly made his way to the bathroom, thankful that he knew the way. He listened carefully and was relieved to hear no sounds of other inhabitants in the house. He had been so caught up in what had been happening he wasn’t sure he would have heard if Usagi’s family had returned. That could have been devastating to say the least. Still he hurried on his way as quickly as he could, even though there was no-one to see him.

Reaching the privacy of the bathroom he securely tied off the condom before wrapping it tightly in some tissues, hiding all sign of it, then dropping it into the waste basket. He just hoped it wouldn’t be discovered later on.

He now felt the cooling sweat on his body and the stickiness around his crotch. He grimaced, reaching into the shower to turn on the taps. A quick shower was in order; he could hardly return to Usagi smelling like this. He lathered his body with the soap, trying not to remember how it had felt when Usagi had touched him, the feel of her small hands sliding over his skin as though she were memorizing his body.

He dragged his mind away from those dangerous thoughts as he felt the first stirrings of desire again. No, enough was enough. He finished washing, cleaning away all residue of sweat and, reluctantly, the scent of Usagi and their recent lovemaking. It wasn’t the most hygienic to wish that he could have remained like that but it was still what he thought.

Stepping out of the shower he stood for a moment, cursing that he had left his previously used towel back in Usagi’s bedroom. He could walk back there and get it, he could dry off there as easily as here. Or he could get another towel but then her parents might have some questions about the number of used towels found the next day. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. No, he’ll just head back to the room, he didn’t want to leave Usagi alone for any longer.

He turned and caught a glimpse of his naked body in the mirror as he passed. He paused and looked closer, before lightly touching the red mark at the crook of his neck. Memory surfaced immediately; of Usagi’s sharp teeth suddenly biting into his flesh as he began to climax, before her head dropped back, crying out as her whole body shuddered as she clung to him and he to her. He ran his finger over the mark. That would no doubt leave a bruise by tomorrow. He inordinately felt very pleased by that thought and couldn’t help the small satisfied smirk at his image.

Enough, he chided himself, and turned away to head out the door when he paused again, although it wasn’t his vanity that made him stop. There was something else he could do while he was here. He turned around again and headed for the bath this time, reaching down and turning the water on. He waited a moment, testing the water until it reached what he deemed to be a comfortable mix and then this time left the bathroom.

When he returned to the bedroom he saw that Usagi still lay where he had left her, the robe covering her, knees almost pulled up to her chest. He spotted his old towel in the corner and picked it up, running it swiftly over his body to remove the water still sheening it before wrapping it securely around his waist. He only then knelt down beside Usagi and lightly touched her shoulder.

“Usagi?” he said softly. She made no move that she had heard him.

He shook her shoulder gently this time. “Usagi, won’t you speak to me?”

Again there was only silence. Maybe she was asleep, he wondered. Or was it that she just didn’t want to talk to him.

He leant back on his heels, gazing down at her. He couldn’t help but reach out and stroke her shimmering hair, feeling sad. He had probably ruined everything now. He knew that it had seemed like she had wanted it as much as he had but he should have realized that it was only because of how emotional she was, and it due to all that had just happened to her. She had probably just got caught up in the moment just as he had. He should have realized that.

Now…now she would have nothing but regrets for what she had succumbed to and Seiya felt terrible for being responsible for that. Every time he wanted to help her and protect her, all he ended up doing was cause her further pain. Perhaps everyone was right and he should have just stayed away from her right from the beginning.

He stifled a deep pain-filled sigh. There was nothing he could do to rectify things this time. Nothing he said or did could change what had occurred between them. All he could hope was that Usagi would not hate him forever. Now it truly was time for him to try and forget, and walk away as he hadn’t been able to before.

“Come, Usagi,” he said softly. “There’s a bath waiting.”

He gently gathered her into his arms, wrapping her more securely in the robe and cradling her tightly. She felt so light, as though there was no substance to her at all. She still made no sound, only burrowed closer into his embrace, hiding her face against his chest. That motion made his heart swell at first with the contact, before it hardened with grief that she still wouldn’t look at him or speak to him. With a heavy heart he carried her into the bathroom.

The room was filled with steam, shrouding the entire area, hanging heavily in the air. Luckily he hadn’t been gone long enough for the water to overflow and in fact it was reaching just a comfortable level for someone to soak so that had been perfect timing.

Seiya sat Usagi on the edge of the tub, reaching down with one hand to check the temperature of the water before turning her gently around so her legs dangled in the warm water. He turned off the taps and sat behind her, not trying to remove the robe. Instead he gathered up her long pale hair and removing his own hair tie, secured hers on top of her head, trying to get every stand but still knowing he was doing an untidy job of it. Once he had done this, only then did he slip the robe completely from her and slide her fully into the water.

He heard her soft gasp as she completely entered the water and held her shoulders until he was sure she was comfortably settled and not likely to slip. He remained sitting on the edge, reaching out and slowly began to wash Usagi’s back, keeping his motions slow and even, a soothing motion.

The silence filled the steam laden room, broken only by the light splashes as he drew the water up to continue his washing.

“I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?” he finally said softly. “I shouldn’t have let things get so out of hand.” He watched the droplets of water slide down Usagi’s curved back. “I should have realized what you were going through and been more understanding, instead of thinking only of myself. I should have known it wasn’t something you really wanted.”

Still she said nothing, but he felt her shiver under his touch and his guilt intensified. He should have had more control and left her alone. He didn’t have the right to do what he had done. The guilt gnawed at him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll leave right away. Just forget this ever happened. I know I can never make amends or give back to you what I have taken, but if there is anyway I can atone for what I have done I will. I promise you that. You won’t ever have to see me again.”

This was it. He had to do it now or he knew he never would, and by staying his presence would only continue to bring Usagi pain. He gathered his resolve even though he could feel the burning in his eyes as tears threatened to fall and it felt like his heart was tearing in two. As he made to move, with one last touch to a pale shoulder, he couldn’t stop himself from whispering one last time, “Usagi, I love you.”

“You don’t have to go,” Her quiet voice halted him, freezing him in place in shock.

He paused where he was, still perched on the side of the tub, uncertainty warring inside. Had he heard her right, or was it just his own fevered imagination? Was he just trying to find a way to stay?

As he hesitated Usagi turned quickly, so suddenly it made him start, and he almost toppled from his seat as a wave of water cascaded over his lap, soaking his towel.

Usagi knelt in the water before him, hands grabbing his knees as she looked up at him earnestly, her eyes wide and fierce. “Don’t say you’re going to go!” she demanded. “It’s not your fault. There’s nothing for you to be apologizing for!”

“You don’t….want me to go?” he asked hesitantly, almost afraid to hear her answer.

“No! Please don’t!” she said vehemently shaking her head so her hair swayed dangerously in his makeshift tie, further strands escaping to fall to float on the surface of the water. “I want you to stay with me!”

He caught his breath at her words, hope blossoming, but then doubts immediately creeping in. This seemed too sudden. Too much like a dream, the dream of his heart.

“Are you just saying that because…of what just happened?” He couldn’t help himself from asking. He didn’t want her to be with him out of some misguided belief that now they should be. He wanted her to be with him because she truly wanted to be.

“Of course not,” Usagi said firmly, although a blush touched her cheeks at her acknowledgement of the night’s events. “I want to be with you even if that never happens again.”

He felt crushed. “So …you didn’t like it?” he mumbled, feeling inadequate.

“No. I mean, yes. I mean….” Usagi stuttered to a halt and he could see her cheeks glowing bright red now. She took a deep breath. “I mean.... I didn’t…mind it.”

“Oh,” he said, not knowing if that meant she found it good or not, but not wanting to push it any further as he might not like the answer. Well, it had been his first time technically also. Perhaps he should read up on it some more? Or ask Taiki or Yaten? No, his mind froze at that thought. No, that would definitely be a bad idea.

A squeeze on his knee brought him out of his thoughts and back to the present as Usagi stood up and slid onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him softly before hugging him tightly. His eyes widened with surprise and shocked pleasure as his arms automatically encircled her waist to support her.

“I want us to be together,” she whispered into his ear and he shivered as her warm breath caressed his skin.

“So do I,” he replied back just as softly, holding her close closing his eyes to better savour the feeling.

They remained like that for a moment longer when he became aware of how cool Usagi’s skin was feeling under his hand. His own body felt heated from having her sitting naked in his lap but the water was cooling rapidly on her body and must be chilling her.

He reached out and pulled the large towel with rabbits on it from the rack nearby. He gathered that this must be Usagi’s, no other towel had such little animals, and wrapped it around her back, tucking it around her shoulders tightly. He held her a moment longer, rubbing his hand up and down her back, warming her up and feeling her soft sigh of thanks, before helping her swing her legs around and stand.

They stood facing each other as he assisted in drying her fully, being certain to not touch her in any way that could be misconstrued and being extra vigilant if she at any point changed her mind about what they were doing. In between they stole silent kisses, even whilst he pulled out the hair tie and gently brushed her golden hair until it shone. When she was done, he swept her up into his arms, towel and all, and carried her back to her room and immediately over to the bed.

He sat her near the pillow whilst he reached out and quickly pulled the covers down on her bed, before picking her up and laying her down fully. He allowed his lips to cling to hers in a kiss, unwilling to part just yet, before reluctantly drawing back, and pulled the covers over her naked body, tucking them in tightly around her slender frame. He brushed back the hair from her face gently, tucking it behind her ear.

“I’ll clean things up a bit. Don’t worry about anything. You just go to sleep,” he said softly.

As he made to move away she grabbed one hand, holding him tightly. Looking down he saw her gazing up at him and was surprised to see an emotion that he hadn’t expected to see, fear.

“Don’t leave me,” she said in a pleading voice that shook

At first he didn’t understand what she meant. He had just been going to tidy up the bathroom and dispose of their wet towels and clothing in the laundry basket, before taking the tea things back to the kitchen. The last thing he wanted was for Usagi to be chastised for any mess they had made. It wasn’t like he was going far.

But then he realized that she wasn’t referring to what he was doing in the house at all. The fear in her was directed to the memory of what had happed to Mamoru, her boyfriend. Her fear was that he, Seiya, was going to disappear just as Mamoru had and leave all her alone.

Chibi Mamoru, Usagi’s boyfriend.

Till now Seiya had felt only a distant dislike and sense of disgruntlement for the absent man. Now….now he had the horrible feeling that something truly terrible had happened to him, for surely only that would have kept him from Usagi’s side. And he could see in her eyes that she too believed, deep down in her heart, that Mamoru had been taken from her and she had been waiting in vain.

His heart ached for her pain, for the suffering that her own devotion, loyalty and love had made her endure, and endure it alone. He mourned for her loss and mourned for the lost Mamoru, his rival whom he had never even met, and yet it had felt as though they had been locked in a duel for Usagi’s heart from the very beginning.

Seiya felt no joy now after what had happened this night, for he was the victor in a way by default and a part of him would always wonder if he could ever have won Usagi’s love if Mamoru had still been there. Still he could not think badly of Mamoru any longer, nor of Usagi for holding on so long to that love. Perhaps a part of her would always love Mamoru.

So be it. He wouldn’t begrudge her that small portion of her heart that belonged to another. He could be generous, for she had given the rest to him; her heart and her body.

He smiled sweetly at her, squeezing her hand. “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” he said, sitting on the side of the bed. “And I’ll be with you every day from now on.” he promised.

She still didn’t look entirely reassured and he couldn’t blame her. The fear that he might disappear like Mamoru would be very real for her. He wasn’t altogether sure of his own standing in all this either. There was the nagging thought in the back of his own mind that he had jeopardized his own mission and role as a Starlight, but he refused to dwell on that now. What ever the consequences would be for his actions this night, he was prepared to face them. But later. Now was just for he and Usagi.

He leant down and kissed her lightly on the lips, trying to convey all his feelings and love he felt for her

“I will be by your side, now and for always,” he vowed softly.

“Promise?” Usagi finally said in a small voice, squeezing his hand tightly

“Promise,” he vowed.

He lay down at her side, on top of the covers, letting her clasp his hand tightly in both of her as they looked at each other, noses almost touching.

“Sleep, Usagi,” he gently ordered. “I will watch over you always.”

With a last searching glance Usagi dropped her head and placed a light kiss on the back of his hand, closing her eyes and drawing their joined clasp in close to her cheek.

“Good girl,” he whispered, placing a light kiss on the top of her head. “I love you.”

He remained there, listening as Usagi’s breathing became slower, waiting for her to fall asleep before he went to complete his tasks. He knew it wouldn’t be long, she was completely exhausted, emotionally drained. So he just patiently waited for her to succumb to her tiredness.

He could tell from her breathing that she was almost asleep when he was surprised to catch the almost silent words she whispered, “I love you too.”

At those soft words he felt like his heart would burst. Not once had she said that she loved him till now. In truth, he hadn’t expected her to do so. Now was far too soon, he had thought, to expect such a commitment from her. So to hear her vocalize those words, to be willing to say them to him made him immensely happy.

He closed his eyes, drawing closer to her, savouring this moment, breathing in her sweet scent. No matter what happened in the future, nothing could take this moment away from him, or the pure joy it filled him with.

~End~

Sailor Moon: Sailor Stars Fic - An Eternity of Pleasure, Part 2

2007-09-01T15:51:37Z

I've finally managed to type up the second chapter to this story - only one more to go and then it is done!

Title: An Eternity of Pleasure
Author: JadeHeart
Fandom: Sailor Moon: Sailor Stars (anime)
Pairing: Seiya/Usagi
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance
Warnings: sexual situations (16 year olds)

Summary: Usagi and Seiya make a commitment to each other and choose to take those first steps together.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this, they belong to the creators of ‘Sailor Moon’, nor am I making any profits from it.

-oOo-

Chapter 2

Seiya let his hands lightly slide over Usagi’s body, running down her smooth back, marveling at how soft her skin was.

He let his fingertips dance over each vertebrae, tracing the curve of her shoulder blade, his hand flattening out across the dip at the small of her back before making its way back to slip within the silken strands of her hair. He combed his fingers through her hair, drawing each long strand upwards, watching it cascading down to lie across her naked back, eyes captured by the way it appeared to glitter in the light as it fell.

His fingers stroked her cheek, dropping lower to run around her slim neck, sliding over rounded shoulders and upper arms. He felt her arms tighten about his waist, delighting in the way she seemed to snuggle deeper into his embrace, shifting forward so she could bring her head level on his shoulder.

She turned her head and he felt her warm lips lightly graze across his skin on the soft underside of his jaw. He sucked his breath in at the touch and allowed his mind to focus solely on her touch. Slowly she continued to kiss him, then he felt her tongue flick lightly against his skin before repeating the gesture.

He let his head fall back further, allowing her better access, silently inviting her to continue which she accepted and seemed to grow bolder, the touch of her tongue and lips firmer. He couldn’t help but think she was like a cat lapping at some cream and he shivered at the image of her devouring him.

She continued to gently explore his skin with her mouth, moving from his neck to nibble lightly on his ear, tongue flicking gently against the lobe before he felt her tiny teeth nip lightly at it, making him jump at the unexpected action. A soft kiss followed before she moved on, placing kisses on his cheek, then pressing her lips firmly against his own.

He tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her in firmly against him as he returned the kiss, sliding his tongue fully into her mouth, devouring her taste. His pulse was racing at the touch of her uncovered breasts pressed against his bare chest as he could feel her hard nipples against his flesh. It made his still stiff erection twitch hard and his hips jerk automatically as his body tried to mimic the actions it so desperately craved to perform. The hardness was becoming an ache of immense of proportions.

He released her lips and showered hurried kisses down the long pale column of her throat, breathing in her scent, letting his hands hungrily roam over her bared back, further down to cup her buttocks and press her closer.

He continued to drop his head, running his tongue down the centre of her torso, feeling the swell of her breasts on either side of his face, the heat he was feeling from her body making him sweat.

Turning his head, he let his tongue slide softly over one nipple, holding her tightly as she cried out in surprise and jerked, ensuring she didn’t fall or escape him. He continued, letting his tongue circling that hard nub before flicking against it again. Her hands were clenched tightly on the back of his head as she jerked again, although this time it appeared that she pushed forward into his contact instead of pulling away.

His lips closed around that upright point, circling it fully, sucking it into his mouth. His lips held it firmly as his tongue continued to pleasure it and he could feel Usagi shudder under his touch, her whole body shaking against his. He wasn’t in much better shape as it was becoming harder and harder for him to keep some form of control on his urges and every sound, every move from Usagi, only served to heighten his excitement.

He suckled greedily upon her youthful breast, eyes closed, pressing his face into that warmth. He inhaled deeply and smelt the musky aroma, a scent that went straight to his groin as he realized what it was. He lifted his head from the nipple he’d been pleasuring and hungrily turned to the other which was ready and waiting for his eager mouth.

Usagi was moaning softly now, he could feel her hands running over his shoulders and down his back, up to his head, pulling him in closer and closer, her lips mouthing against his hair.

He ceased his actions and swiftly gathered her into his arms, capturing her lips with his own once more, feeling the shudder wrack his body as he laid her down gently, one arm around her waist, the other cradling the back of her head. He continued to kiss her, running his fingertips over her face, sliding into her hair, down lower over her creamy shoulders.

Her robe had fallen completely open in this position and his body was nestled closely against her side. The warmth from her soft skin sent fires through his aching shaft pressed up firmly against her hip.

He ached abominably and was finding it hard to hold on. He hadn’t indulged in sex with any female in this current body but that didn’t mean that he didn’t know the mechanics. He had pleasured himself numerous times as he had reached the teenage years, a perfectly normal action although he had to admit that he had been a little surprised at just how responsive the male body he resided in at present was. It had certainly been a learning experience, in more ways than one. And apart from that method, when it became too much to bear he had been able to seek a more fuller intimacy with Taiki or Yaten, or both. Between the three of them, they had all learnt what could be done and had found that they needed no other to fulfill those basic needs and desire. It had been a relief in many ways; to know that they could find surcease in each other which did not distract them from their mission. Till now, none of them had met any female that they wished to be that intimate with, but that didn’t mean they had missed out.

But now he wanted to be with Usagi. He was still dedicated to his mission, that hadn’t changed, but now he wanted to learn the pleasures of the body with a woman, with Usagi. However it wasn’t just to ease of the raging fires burning through his pleasure centres. He wanted it to be memorable, both for him and her. The mere thought of being with her in this way made his erection twitch with eagerness.

Usagi’s hands continued to roam over his body, sliding up his arms, over his shoulders, before sliding down his chest as he leant into her. He felt one of her hands slip lower, trailing over his stomach, making his abdomen muscles ripple in response. He felt her hand pause as they touched his pubic hair and thought she would cease there. Instead, to his surprise, those warm fingers moved onward hesitatingly.

His hips twitched involuntarily, moving his body back slightly which allowed his stiff erection to rise to its full height, greeting her questing fingers. He shuddered at that soft touch like warm velvet as her fingers ran lightly over the tip and down the length, no more than a ghost of a touch.

With that almost ethereal touch he suddenly felt the familiar change begin, building deep within his core, rising up like the swell of tsunami, the crest of the wave pausing for a moment, hovering, teetering on the brink. He froze, unable to do anything as the swelling of desire increased, as muscles tensed, his breath coming in pants. He tried to claw his way back from the edge but the stimulus was too much and that wave crashed over him, sweeping him away and he was lost.

With a deep ragged groan he buried his head in the crook of Usagi’s neck as his body stiffened almost painfully, biting down on his bottom lip to prevent the cry that wanted to burst out as his body jerked with his release. His hips thrust downward, pressing his erection into the bunched silkiness of cloth beneath him, this extra sensation rubbing across the sensitive tip making his squirm. As the last pulse left his body, he lay there for a moment, breathing raggedly as he tried to clear his vision.

Finally he lifted his head and looked down to see Usagi gazing up at him with a look of surprise and he felt his face grow hot.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with embarrassment. Gods, he could just die! How could he have done something like that in front of her?!

He turned his head away, unable to meet her eyes in his humiliation. In trying to avoid her gaze he glanced down only to see the clear evidence of his pleasure and thought he would die a thousand more deaths. He had come all over Usagi’s robe, the glistening pool unmistakable for what it was.

“I’m really sorry. I’ve made….a mess of your robe,” He dropped his flaming face into one hand as shame burned inside him. “Damn, I’ll find something to clean it up!”

He made a move to get up when a hand touched his cheek making him look up to meet Usagi’s eyes.

“It’s all right,” she said. “It’ll wash out.” She smiled a little shyly. “Was that…good for you?”

He stared at her and then nodded firmly. “Yes, very!” He reached down and cupped her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry I couldn’t hold on. That’s hardly very considerate of me.”

“That’s okay,” she said smiling at him, reassuring him

“Uhm,” He looked down. “Do you want to take that off so we can wash it out? I don’t want you to lie in it accidentally.”

“Oh,” she replied. “Yes, I guess so.”

“Here,” he said, reaching across and pulling over the robe he had previously discarded. “Use this one instead.”

“Thanks,” she said, reaching out and taking it from him.

Usagi held it modestly over her front as she sat up, slipping first one arm free and then the other whilst Seiya helped her. He then bundled up the soiled cloth, ensuring that all the residue was securely wrapped and not likely to leak out, looking around for a moment, at a loss of just what he should do with it.

“You can just leave it here,” Usagi said quickly. “I can wash it later, you know.”

“You sure?” He queried, feeling even more embarrassed at having to leave Usagi with the unpleasant job of cleaning up after him. If he had only been a little more controlled he could have held on, or at least had time to get the box of tissues over on her dresser!

She nodded with a smile so he didn’t have any further grounds to argue and was left with no choice but to set it down well over to one side of the table, out of their way.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, still feeling embarrassed about the whole thing.
“I really am sorry about that. I hadn’t intended for that to happen like that.”

“Don’t worry,” her quiet voice reassured him. “There’s no harm done.”

When he looked back Usagi still sat upright, robe clutched before her across her breasts and trailing over her lap. She looked so beautiful. To his eyes she shone with a light that had nothing to do with the illumination in the room but came solely from the soul residing in her body. He couldn’t stop the smile that curved his lips as he gazed upon her, drinking in her features from head to toe.

He moved back to her side, reaching up a hand to touch her cheek, watching as she returned his smile, his heart beating joyfully. He slowly leant forward and placed a light kiss on her lips, feeling her return it.

“Thank you,” he said gently, still smiling as he withdrew.

“For what?” she asked, cocking her head to one side quizzically.

He rubbed he thumb lightly over her cheek. “For being so understanding,” He grinned at her. “I’m acting like a complete idiot and you just take it all in your stride.”

She bit at her bottom lip for a moment with a small frown. “Well,” she said. “I don’t really know what else I’m supposed to do.”

He leant in and kissed her again. “You’re doing just fine,” he reassured her.

She met his eyes with a clear gaze, no longer trying to hide from his look. Slowly she lifted one hand and placed it against his cheek, cradling it for a moment, then leant forward, eyes closing.

He met her halfway and felt her hands slide into his hair, drawing him into a deeper kiss. Surprisingly he felt himself respond, his just spent shaft immediately hardening, even with just this light contact. She continued to kiss him, taking the initiative this time as her tongue darted out to touch his lips, tracing their outline before fleeing once more. He shivered at that contact, wanting more but uncertain how much to pursue her. He waited and sure enough felt that tantalizing touch return to his lips and when he parted his lips there was only the slightest of pauses before Usagi’s tongue swiftly delved inside, touching his own for a moment before once again withdrawing.

This time he did not let her escape, his tongue questing after hers, seeking it hiding in that warm moist cavern, coaxing it out to meet his which it soon did.

His hand rose to clasp the robe she still held carefully before her. He gently tugged at it, feeling a slight resistance as her hands clenched for a moment in the material in response to his action, then hesitantly she released her hold on it, ceding it to his hold.

He slowly moved it away, feeling, although he couldn’t see it, the way the silken material slid over her body. He withdrew it completely from her and shifted the hand that held the robe to behind her where he dropped it to the floor.

Wrapping his arms fully around her, he slowly leant her back once again, laying her on the recently discarded robe so she was not lying on the cool floor. He let his body press against her side, knew that she would be able to feel his once again growing erection pressing against her flesh but hoped that she would not be afraid of this sign of his already increased arousal.

They remained locked in the kiss, seeming unable, or unwilling, to release one another. Seiya allowed his hand to slowly move down her body, sliding over the gentle swell of her breast, feeling the outline of each rib, hand stretching out over the flat stomach, moving outwards to the dip of a small waist before feeling the jug of the hipbone.

He very slowly and lightly began to move his hand inwards, following the join of thigh to torso, feeling his fingertips touch the soft springiness of Usagi’s pubic hair. He felt her start at this contact, the slight tensing in her body at the unfamiliarity. He paused there, letting her become accustomed to his touch, simply lightly stroking the strands, allowing his fingers to thread through them and then out.

Slowly he felt her relax again, her concentration returning wholly to the kiss once again. He continued to lightly stroke her for a moment more and then slowly moved his hand a little lower, his long fingers easily slipping between her legs so his whole hand was cupping her nether region. He made no more to try and invade those moist depths. He was in no hurry. He wanted to savour every single moment of this.

Again, Usagi jerked at the contact, this time a little harder and he heard her moan into his mouth. Her fingers clenched involuntarily on his shoulders and he felt the slight resistance as though she was going to push him away. He simply continued to kiss her deeply, trying to pour all his feelings of love for her into that contact, just leaving his hand were it was, applying no more than a slight pressure against her mound.

Gradually her hands relaxed, although a small shudder ran through her body so he knew she was still a little uncertain. He began to slowly move his hand, up and down, moving no more than an inch in either direction and maintaining an even pressure all the time. He could feel the warmth coming from her core against the palm of his hand, the moistness leaking from her and making the curls damp, all serving to excite him further.

This time he was rewarded with a swallowed gasp as she arched up against him, obviously enjoying it. He continued to do this, not trying to rush ahead, taking his time.

He knew when she was beginning to enjoy it fully when he felt her legs part further, allowing his hand better access, as her body twisted against him. He happily swallowed every moan and gasp she gave, returning in kind when in shifting his erection pressed harder against her, stimulating him further.

She arched up again, one knee now raised slightly and this time he carefully allowed one long finger to seek out the moist folds of flesh, sliding over the ridges, seeking ever inwards. She writhed at the more intimate touch, hips rising upwards against his hand. He felt the dip, the pooled dampness and the way the flesh against his fingertip twitched and knew he’d reached that centre.

He pressed his lips firmer against her, deepening the kiss, bringing his torso to rest more fully on hers, placing pressure on her breasts. She moaned at this greater contact on her sensitive nipples, and as he did this he slipped one finger within her.

She arched up hard against him, her whole body stiffening for a moment in shock. He held her carefully, ensuring that her sudden movement didn’t thrust his finger in deeper than he wished to at this stage. He withdrew it slowly and returned to just rubbing her outer edges, applying pressure once more. She slumped back to the floor as he swallowed her ragged breaths.

He could feel how wet she was, her juices coating his hand and his erection wept in unison. He slipped the finger in again and this time she did not react so violently, doing no more than a slight twist of apparent discomfort.

Again he withdrew and returned to the outer pleasuring. Three more times he did this and by this time she was not responding in any adverse way, instead moaning and pushing her hips towards his hand. Obligingly he slid his finger in a little deeper, still being carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt her at any stage.

When he tried to insert a second finger there was a slight resistance in her body and she tensed a little at the additional pressure. However, the lubrication made the insertion smooth and again he took his time, ensuring that he accustomed her to the new touch and not hurrying in any way.

He had now reached a point where he was just about at his breaking point once more and it was taking everything he had to maintain his control. He was forced to break the lengthy kiss he’d held, dropping his head to the crook of Usagi’s neck, burying his face in her silky hair, breathing heavily.

Every touch of her body, every contour of her inner body that he could feel through his fingers was slowly driving him insane with need. He couldn’t stop his body from pressing against hers as he tried to place some pressure on his aching shaft, desperately seeking relief, moaning himself. He could feel her hands still moving over his body, clutching his heated flesh, sliding over skin quickly becoming slick with sweat. Every moan and cry she made, every twist and turn and buck of her body against his only kept pushing him closer to the brink.

He felt her roll slightly to her side, one leg sliding over his so he was almost nestled between her thighs. The invitation could not be ignored, not that he wanted to or had the will power to do so. Capturing her lips fiercely he pushed her flat onto her back once again, moving his body so he was fully lying between her thighs, his erection pressing against her stomach. He could feel her bent thighs pressed against his hips even as he continued to fondle her with his hand.

He moaned hard as her hips jerked upwards, the pressure against his erection making him shudder and he moaned a second time when he felt one petite foot silkily slide over his buttocks and down the back of his leg, tangling around his ankle. He was frantically kissing her face, her neck, her shoulders, returning to her luscious mouth, feeling her doing the same. He whispered her name over and over, interspersed between those desperate kisses.

He felt her hands running up and down his spine, holding his waist as she pushed her hips up to meet his, reaching down further to cup his buttocks, pressing him closer. He shifted slightly to try and ease the intense pressure on his shaft and as he did so, Usagi also moved so when he lowered himself he could feel that his erection was no longer cushioned on her belly but fully resting between her parted legs, the tip touching hot, moist flesh that immediately made him ache with the need to plunger forward.

Unable to control that surge of desire he pushed inwards, feeling the softened flesh part against his intrusion, then a slight resistance as no more than a couple of centimeters slid within. Usagi stiffened against him, every muscle tense as she froze. He too held himself completely still; firstly to not go any deeper, and secondly to prevent himself from immediately coming.

He pulled out and felt Usagi breathe out and relax and then slowly pressed forward again. He felt her tense up again and just held himself there for a moment, then withdrew once more as she relaxed a second time. He did this a few more times, slowly letting her become used to that strange sensation, yet still not trying to go any deeper.

His own breathing was completely ragged by now and his body was sheened in sweat. Trying to maintain his control and keep this measured pace was exhausting him and he didn’t know how much longer he could go on. But he didn’t want to try and hurry this. He truly did want Usagi to gain pleasure from this. This was their time together and he didn’t want anything to spoil that.

Usagi by now seemed to have grown accustomed to him entering her and was beginning to respond with pleasure and not just surprise. He knew that he had to take some steps now or it would be extremely foolish, and irresponsible of him. He withdrew fully and slowly kissed all the way down Usagi’s body from neck to breast, down ribs and across stomach, dropping kisses to her thighs with no more than a soft touch of lips to her glistening mound which made her start. He licked his lips to taste that slightly tangy taste and shuddered with the pleasurable thoughts of partaking of that sweet nectar. But that would have to be for another time. He truly thought that it would be too much for this first time together so he reluctantly continued on his way. He pressed kisses to her inner thighs, to her raised knees, right down to her ankles.

Looking up her body he could see she had her eyes closed, lips partly opened as she moaned and gasped with pleasure at his touch. He couldn’t prevent the smile that graced his full lips at that sight. She was completely beautiful, almost glowing in her pleasure. Dragging his gaze from that delightful sight he looked quickly towards the low table. Sure enough his wallet was still there and he breathed a prayer of thanks. Snaking out one long arm he grabbed it and quickly opened it, dexterous fingers delving into the back pouch and finding the small square.

He drew it out, tossing the wallet carelessly back on the table and returned his attentions to Usagi. She continued to be content to relax under his ministrations. He glanced down at that small foil square in his fingers and swallowed nervously. He really hoped he wasn’t going to botch this.

Gripping one corner between his teeth he swiftly ripped it open. He now pondered for a moment to figure out just how he was going to do this. He was worried about breaking the mood, selfishly worried that if he did Usagi would back out. More so, he was embarrassed to have Usagi realize just what he was doing, and the thought of her watching him do this just made him cringe.

Coming to a decision, he shuffled forward so he almost sat between Usagi’s legs so he could sensuously run his tongue along first one inner thigh and then the other. As he did so he could then use both hands to bring the condom to his upright erection. He carefully placed it on the tip, trying to remember all that he had read and learnt about what to do and began to roll it. For a moment it seemed like it had stuck and he almost panicked for a moment, thinking he had put it on the wrong way but then it began to push down more easily and he breathed a huge sigh of relief.

When he had pushed it firmly down to the base he shifted his position again, slowly crawling his way back up Usagi’s body, pausing for a moment to lick and suck on those enticing breasts as she clutched at his shoulders and moaned in pleasure. He pressed a light touch to her lips as he reached down with one hand to guide himself into position again and pressed forward.

This time he pressed inwards deeper until he felt the barrier he expected. He pressed against it slightly, feeling it ease against his tip but not parting. Usagi had jerked a little at the contact, her hips pulling away and so he withdrew, pulling almost out completely, just leaving the very tip within her and moving it backwards and forwards.

He pushed forward slowly again, once more feeling that resistance like a spongy blockage or a sheet of elastic. He could feel it give a little more but still not fully and so again he withdrew before Usagi could become uncomfortable.

This time he did withdraw completely, letting his erection lie between her legs as he returned to kissing and suckling her breasts, allowing her a moment to fully relax again. He dropped his hand back to her mound, gently cupping her in the way he had found that she appeared to enjoy the most. When she had fully relaxed and was once again pushing upwards against his touch in a demanding manner he guided his erection back into place and pressed forward again.

This time, when he felt the resistance and pressed forward a little more he was sure he felt it give way under his touch. He pulled back a little, easing the pressure and then moved forward again. Yes, he was certain he was just a little deeper. The barrier gave further, allowing him in further but he didn’t pursue it just yet, once more pulling back.

On this third time as he met the barrier and placed a little more pressure he felt it part completely beneath him and he moved forward suddenly, impelled with the way Usagi suddenly raised her hips, swallowing him deeper as her head fell back with a breathy cry.

He held her tightly, not moving, not doing anything except whisper her name and how much he loved her over and over again against her skin. He pressed soft kisses to her lips. He hovered above her as she slowly opened her eyes to meet his.

He searched them, trying to understand what he was seeing. There was a look of uncertainty definitely, perhaps a little fear. He smiled gently at her, dropping a light kiss to her forehead and she closed her eyes to receive his benediction. When next she opened her eyes, she gave him a small tremulous smile, but it was still a smile. He felt her hands tighten around his waist, holding him within her.

He very, very slowly eased back a little, seeing her eyes open wider for a moment and then slid forward again. He felt her start a fraction and heard her indrawn breath. He eased out a little and then back, his motion a little smoother as she relaxed a little further. He repeated the motion, seeing her catch her bottom lip between her teeth as her brow furrowed in concentration as though she were trying to understand just what was happening and what she was feeling.

He leant down and kissed her neck, breathing against her skin as he continued to move gently. He was really struggling now. Every part of him wanted to do so much more, every fibre of his being was demanding a release from the pent up emotions that had been stifled within him for this long, but he knew that he couldn’t give in to them. At least not yet.

He continued using his entire being to try and draw as much pleasure from Usagi as he could; with lips, tongue, hands and body. Soon he felt her responding beneath him, her hands no less eager on his body, clutching at him, pressing him closer against her, her hips thrusting upwards to drive him in deeper as her back arched. Her lips would graze hungrily over his face and neck, firm white teeth nipping at his shoulder in time with his thrusts. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, crossed ankles and heels pressed against his buttocks as they bunched with each push deeper.

He couldn’t hold back any longer. His motions became faster, his hips snapping forward although he remained conscious that he could not try and push too deeply in case he caused hurt. However, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t still gain great pleasure which was only too evident.

He continued to slide within Usagi, could hear their breathing, moans and cries mingling, could feel their slick bodies sliding against each other in unison as though each seeking to get even closer.

He felt that wave rise again and didn’t try to stop it. With one last thrust and loud cry he felt the release spill from him and heard Usagi’s shuddering cry join his as her arms wrapped tightly about him also, almost crushing him against her. His body jerked a couple of more times as his breath was dragged out of him in great gasps before he collapsed, having just enough semblance of coherent thought to ensure that he caught his weight on his elbows and didn’t crush Usagi in the process.

They both lay there, the silence of the room heavy, only broken by their soft panting, their bodies still shaking with their exertions, drained of all thoughts.

UGH (UnderGrand Hotel) Fic - Diving to Hidden Depths

2007-08-26T15:14:51Z

Title: Diving to Hidden Depths
Author: JadeHeart
Fandom: UGH –Under Grand Hotel (manga)
Pairing: Sen/Sword
Timeline: After the end of Volume 3
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: sexual situations
Summary: In the deepest darkness of the night, Sen’s dream comes true.

Author’s Note: I am assuming here that Sword never told Sen about the ‘rape’ that he experienced with the Warden.

-oOo-

Sen stood at the window. The night was warm so he felt no chill on his skin as he stood there naked. The warm breeze filtered through the room, gaining access through the natural ventilation of the simple building and the woven palm shutters left wide open. The gentle sound of the waves breaking on the sand drifted on the still air.

It was a full moon tonight, so bright it lit the entire night. Sen held his hand out before him feeling amazement at how clearly he could see it in the darkness. That is what had awoken Sen, the unusual brightness when there should have only been darkness, drawing him from his bed to look out at the beach beyond their home. The moonlight truly was almost bright enough for him to have even read by if he had wanted to. Admittedly it would be a little bit of a strain on the eyes but not by much. He wasn’t in the reading mood at the moment though.

He leant back against the window frame, gazing into the night. From there he could just see the ocean through the surrounding trees and foliage. The moon left a shimmering path across the water, making the sand shine like silver. It was a beautiful sight.

A soft snore from the other side of the room made him turn his head in that direction to look back at the large four poster bed taking up the middle. His partner still slumbered on, heedless of the beauty he was missing.

Sen half-smiled, gazing once more out the window.

Since their release from UGH, Sen found he had become a very light sleeper, the slightest change to his surroundings bringing him alert. He wondered if it was because he had an unconscious fear that this was all a dream and soon they would be dragged back to prison and locked away once more. It wasn’t that he doubted Walter’s word. Both he, and more importantly, Sword trusted the FBI agent but the fear was still there. After wishing and dreaming of the chance to be able to do this; be here in the fresh air on the surface, to feel the sun on their faces, the wind in their hair, but most importantly to be able to share all this together, perhaps it just seem too good to be true.

Sen truly feared that all this would be taken away from him. All his life, nothing had ever seemed to have gone right for him. Every decision he had made had always seemed to be the wrong one when all he had ever wanted was to find happiness and someone to love. Now, he loved Sword more than he thought he could anyone, and he feared that too would be snatched away from him.

He walked over to the bed, gazing through the gauzy mosquito netting surrounding it, looking at the figure sprawled there. Sword lay on his stomach, hands raised above his head and pushed under the pillow, a pillow which he didn’t rest his head on, elbows splayed out. His legs too were parted, stretching to each corner of the bed and clearly encroaching onto what would be Sen’s side.

Sen smiled at the sight. Who would have guessed that Sword would be such a bed hog? Whilst in UGH they had spent most of their time either on separate bunks or both crammed onto one, which didn’t exactly allow for any extra spacing or your partner was liable to find themselves on the floor. And in general that pissed most people off.

So when finally they found they could share a normal double bed Sen noticed that Sword quickly began to spread out, inching across the mattress bit by bit over time. He had found he had had to be quite brutal at times to remind Sword that there were two of them that needed to fit on the bed and he had no intention of giving up his fair share of space. Sword had groused a bit about it, denying that he was doing anything of the sort but had ceased his take-over bid for the bed.

Sen lifted the corner of the netting at the foot of the bed. The moonlight made Sword’s body look like it was gleaming, as though it had been slicked with oil. It had taken him some time to get used to Sword’s new hairstyle. He had found it strange at first to not feel the trailing dreadlocks brushing across his skin. Now he found that he rather liked the short hair. With the dreadlocks gone he could run his fingers through Sword’s hair, surprised at the wiry touch yet still it was soft.

He also found the shorter style seemed to suit Sword and their currently carefree lifestyle. To Sen, it seemed as though the shorter cut made Sword seem softer, gentler, although he was sure Sword would deny that vehemently. It was as though with the removal of those long dreadlocks that Sword had severed his connection with who he had been before meeting Sen.

Sen didn’t delude himself completely about that. He hadn’t forgotten what Sword’s nature was. He was a self-confessed murderer, a drug dealer, he could kill with impunity and without remorse, and had. And the fear was there that he would do so again.

Yet there was also the other side of him as well; protective, caring, and it was that that Sen hoped would remain at the fore and keep them together. That is what he prayed for - for the future.

For deep down there was the fear that Sword would soon tire of this idyllic life that they were currently sharing together. That he would soon tire of Sen and want to return to his previous life of power and money, controlled by fear and sex.

That thought froze Sen to the bone. The fear of losing everything, of being abandoned by those he loved once again. The fear of trying to live a life without meaning - without Sword. He knew he couldn’t do that. He had been prepared to die in UGH to stay with Sword. If the day came that Sword would cast him aside he knew that he would have no desire to remain in this world for there would be nothing left for him.

He let his eyes trail up Sword’s naked body; from his feet, up the calf, to his thighs. The tattoo on his inner thigh could clearly be read. ‘Dive’ it said, or ‘Sen’, a sign of Sword’s love for him that no-one else had understood. It was been something special, just between the two of them.

His eyes continued upwards, over the firm roundness of Sword’s buttocks, no different in colour to the rest of his body. Sword had been determined from the moment he had walked into the sun to have an ‘all-over tan’ as he put it, and insisted on sunbathing naked. Sen wasn’t sure that it really made that much difference due to Sword’s skin colour but had to admit that there certainly weren’t any tan lines to be seen.

Sen took far greater care with his pale skin although his too had certainly deepened in hue. The touch of sunburn he had received in their first few days of freedom had reminded him rather painfully of this hazard of walking once more on the planet’s surface. So since then he ensured he always used plenty of sunscreen. Sword seemed to enjoy helping him apply it as well.

His roving gaze continued on its path; over the long back, across the broad shoulders to the face relaxed in sleep. When Sword slept he looked so different; those hard, sometimes cold eyes were hidden. Sen hoped he wasn’t imagining that hardness beginning to fade. He wanted to see the day when it had fully gone and the last of Sword’s past had been erased. It might be a futile dream but it was something to hold onto for him.

Sword truly was beautiful, especially at this moment as he lay there completely unconscious of his partner’s scrutiny, the moonlight bathing him in silver.

Sen’s eyes wandered back down, stopping once more at the tattoo. ‘Dive’: to go down, to plunge in, so many meanings and interpretations. Looking at that tattoo Sen couldn’t help but notice Sword’s testicles nestled there between his parted legs. Sen felt a flush as heat spread through his body and licked suddenly dry lips. The tattoo seemed to beckon him, calling to him like a siren’s song.

He slowly lifted one knee to rest on the bed between Sword’s feet. One hand reached out, avoiding the soles of Sword’s feet which he had discovered were actually extremely ticklish, and unhurriedly sliding his hand upwards from the ankle, over the shapely calf, trailling up the inside of the thigh, slowing as it rose higher. His hand paused at the tattoo, one finger lightly tracing the script, feeling the smoothness of the skin against his fingertips.

He licked his lips again as his already stiff erection throbbed. His fear for the future was driving him to do this. Didn’t they always say the full moon drove people to do strange things? Surely that is what was happening here.

He had wanted to know what it would be like to make love to Sword for a long time now. He had wanted to know what it would be like for him to be the one in control, for him to have the power to make Sword come. He had wondered and wanted that since he had first felt the pleasure of giving to another instead of receiving.

He was sure Sword was a virgin to anal sex. Despite his prowess in bed, Sen was positive that Sword would never have allowed another man to dominate him. It went completely against everything that he was, his entire nature.

Yet that knowledge was exactly what excited him further. To be able to be the first, and hopefully the only one, to plunder that body so intimately, to drive deep inside and fill Sword with need, desire and ecstasy. To be the one to make him experience all of that was enough to make Sen’s blood race. He wanted to be the only one to push into that hot channel and fill Sword with his come, to claim him as surely as Sword had claimed Sen.

His hand traced over the roundness of Sword’s buttocks, gently kneading them, before slowly tracing down the perineum to lightly stroke, then squeeze Sword’s sac. Sword gave a sleepy murmur, his legs parting further unconsciously under the gentle ministrations.

Sen hardened further and dropped a hand to his aching shaft, holding it firmly as he stroked himself, his eyes automatically closing as fires raced through his rapidly heating body. If he did this would Sword forgive him? He feared not, yet his fear of future abandonment and being unable to fulfill this last desire, to have Sword cast him aside leaving him with this last regret, was also more than he could bear.

He opened his eyes, gazing down at the body lying before him. Near Sword’s head, on the low bedside table Sen could see the pump pack of his skin moisturizer. It was completely natural, a local product that Sword had discovered on one of his foray’s into the small town nearby and he had purchased it for Sen in those early days to help him ease his peeling skin. Sen had continued to use it since and Sword had often commented on how much he liked the smell. Now, it would have to do.

Reaching over Sword’s body, being careful to not disturb the sleeper any further, he grabbed it, bringing it back to lay on the bed by his side. He squirted a large amount into his hand before liberally rubbing both hands together to warm the cream.

Returning to Sword’s body, he slowly began to massage him. His slick hands slid easily up the lean legs, deft fingers tracing each muscle, searching out the sensitive areas, all the time slowly moving higher.

Sword murmured again as Sen grew closer to his goal. His fingers moved from the backs of Sword’s legs, sliding inwards on both thighs to the softer inner flesh, slipping against either side of Sword’s testicles, slowly and gently rolling them.

This time Sword gasped and his hips jerked a little. Sen began to slide his fingers up the perineum, spreading his fingers wide to move outwards over the tight buttocks. He continued the sensual massage, moving leisurely upwards; over the lower back, running up the spine, tracing each vertebra, searching out the spots that he knew sometimes pained Sword and soothing them. His finger traced the outline of the scar marring the dark skin, the last remnant of the bullet wound as the projectile had ripped through skin and tissue, spraying blood.

He passed over that blemish, moving on, reaching up further, digging into the shoulders, sliding out over the arms and then back. Gradually he made the return journey, moving down the entire back, returning to where he wanted most to be.

Lifting one hand from the heated body he had been touching, he reapplied the moisturizer as his other hand kneaded Sword’s buttocks gently. He could stop now. He had done nothing to jeopardize things as they stood at the moment.

But even as he thought that he knew he wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t or couldn’t, he didn’t know. All he did know was that he had to go on. It was now or never.

He shuffled his knees further forward so they were pressed firmly against Sword’s inner thighs, preventing him from closing his legs. Sen leant forward, stretching over the top of Sword’s body using one arm to support his weight so he didn’t crush the other.

His other hand ceased its kneading motion on Sword’s buttocks and moved inwards, easily sliding into the cleft and slowly sliding downwards. Sen’s questing finger found the puckered entrance easily, circling it for a moment. He dropped a kiss to the back of Sword’s neck as he eased a finger inward, just to the first knuckle.

Sword jerked awake beneath him.

“What..?” he said angrily although still sounding a little sleep dazed He tried to twist his body away from the intrusion but Sen’s weight pinned him down.

Sen continued to move the finger in and out of Sword’s body.

“Sen, what the fuck..!”

“Shh,” Sen whispered, dropping further kisses to Sword’s back. “Let me show you what I’ve learnt.”

“No fucking way!” Sword tried to turn under him and pull away but Sen just lowered his body further, pressing him into the mattress and holding him effectively in place. They had always been fairly evenly matched in body weight so in this position Sen was able to keep Sword immobilised, unless he intended to get extremely physical.

“You’ve taken me so many times,” Sen tried to explain, not sure if Sword was even listening as he still continued to struggle. He pushed the finger in deeper to the second knuckle and began to pump it a little faster. “Let me give that pleasure to you.”

Sen leant closer still so his mouth was next to Sword’s ear. “Let me make love to you, Sword.” he whispered. “Let me be the only one to have ever loved you.”

As Sword shifted his hips again in discomfort, Sen slipped his other hand beneath the still squirming man to wrap it around Sword’s cock, feeling it already half hard despite Sword’s protestations.

Sen could remember what it had been like for him the first time. He wanted it to be easier for Sword, he had nothing to prove, he just wanted to pleasure him. Still he knew the best way to take your mind off the discomfit was to override it with further pleasure.

He began to pull on Sword’s cock, circling its girth with his fingers. It only took a couple of strokes before Sword’s cock filled his grip firmly and he was moaning at the contact. Sen had had a lot of practice in this, he knew Sword’s every weakness and the ways to waken his desire.

“Sen!” Sword gasped. “Just jerk me off, okay? You don’t have to do anything else.”

Sen gave another expert tug and Sword’s hips thrust down against the mattress before thrusting back onto Sen’s other hand, causing his finger to plunger in deeper.

“Ahh!” he cried out.

Sen slipped another finger inside as he continued to stroke Sword.

“You are mine, Sword. You are all mine. Just as I am yours.’ he whispered, kissing down Sword’s back.

He curled his fingers inside his partner, knowing it would case some pain but searching for the spot he had found on Norman. The high choked cry and the way Sword’s body bucked up against his told him when he had found it. That, and the way Sword’s cock twitched in his grip and filled out more, precum leaking over Sen’s hand.

“I love you, Sword,” he breathed raggedly as he moved forward more, sweat beading his brow as his own excitement increased to a critical point.

Using the hand wrapped around Sword’s cock, Sen coaxed his partner onto his side, spooning in behind, his hard erection pressed against Sword’s leg.

“Touch yourself,” he instructed softly. “Feel how hard I’ve made you. Show me what you do to yourself when you think of me.”

The thought of watching Sword masturbate made Sen’s pulse race harder. He had never seen Sword jerk off in front of him. He found that he wanted to be able to watch that act, knowing that Sword was thinking of him as he did so.

“You fucking pervert!” Sword muttered, then gasped as Sen tugged on his cock again.

“Do it,” Sen repeated softly, never ceasing his motions.

Sword hesitated for a moment and then his hand slid downwards and Sen felt fingers wrap around his. He moved his hand away so Sword was gripping his own erection, the long fingers circling around, sliding from the head down to the base in one long stroke before reversing the action.

Sen’s eyes were captured by this sight as Sword’s motion became smoother, less self-conscious. He could see Sword’s muscles twitch, bunching up as they contracted and relaxed as he dragged small jerks from it with each downward stroke. Sen could see the glistening tip as precum continued to leak from the slit to be swiftly gathered into Sword’s palm and slicked down the long, hard length, returning each time for more.

Sword’s eyes were closed, squeezed shut, bottom lip caught between white teeth, trying to hold back the moans and gasps that still managed to escape. Sen could feel the body beneath his hands burning as though consume by internal flames, the shaking, the way the hips were beginning to thrust harder.

Sen felt the trickle of sweat slide from his temple, was aware of how loud and ragged his own breathing was in the darkness as it mingled with Sword’s moans. His hands began to tremble as he couldn’t help but rub his hard cock against Sword’s leg seeking that pressure and friction, his desire growing, building, threatening to spill over completely.

He came to his senses abruptly and realized what he was doing, dragging his mind away from the pleasure his body was craving, clamping down on those rising desires. This isn’t the way he wanted it to happen. But he knew that he needed to act soon or he would be lost completely.

He moved back to his knees and lifted Sword’s top leg higher, resting it over his thighs whilst he straddled the other. He reached out and wrapped one hand around Sword’s, gripping hard and deliberately forcing Sword to slow his motion. He didn’t want him to come just yet, as much as the thought of such a sight almost drove him wild, he still wanted to try and make this last.

Sword moaned at the interruption and twisted, trying to move his hand under Sen’s at a faster pace. Sen clamped down harder, slowing it again and this time Sword’s growl more than indicated his frustration.

All this time Sen had continued to prepare Sword with his other hand, his fingers still pumping inside the warm body in an even rhythm, having graduated up to three and Sword no longer showed any sign of discomfort or even of any awareness of what else Sen had been doing.

Now Sen removed those fingers, withdrawing them completely and he could look down and see the opening glistening and twitching, entrancing him and making him swallow hard. With a shaking hand he pumped some moisturiser into it then reached out to slick the entrance before applying the rest to his own still throbbing cock. He groaned at the contact on his own body, shuddering as he tried to hold himself in check, more so when the head brushed against Sword’s hot flesh.

He had reached his limit now. He frantically pressed aside the flesh to part Sword’s buttocks, hunching his back to position himself better, looking down to see that the tip of his cock was lined up with that gleaming hole and slowly pushed forward.

He groaned heavily at the pressure building against the tip and for a moment was afraid that he would come just from that before he could do anything else. He gritted his teeth, trying to search for some semblance of control and continued to push.

“Argh!” Sword groaned as well, his hands on his cock ceasing all motion as one reached out to grip Sen’s thigh hard.

Suddenly Sen gave a small thrust and the head of his cock slid past that tight barrier and into the warm depths beyond. He stiffened as that heat engulfed him, searing his flesh like a branding iron, burning right to his very core.

“Ahh!” he breathed out, head thrown back and eyes closed as he slid in deeper still. “So tight! So hot!” he murmured half to himself, half in admiration for the wonderful way Sword’s body was embracing him.

Sword’s interior muscles held him tightly, preventing any further motion but Sen was content to remain that way for a moment longer, just to savour this feeling. A feeling far more intense than anything that he had felt with Norman when doing this. However, soon his body craved more, needing more stimulus, demanding he fulfill what he promised.

Sword still gripped him tightly, he could neither move forward, nor more back. He reached down and wrapped one hand around Sword’s hard cock and began to stroke him off once more. Sword jerked at the resumed contact, one hand returning to lay over Sen’s.

“Relax,” Sen said softly, leaning down and kissing Sword’s ribs and raised leg, his other hand slowly massaging Sword’s lower back. “Relax and let me move.”

Sword’s body began to comply to the coaxing, the muscles easing their pressure and Sen was able to pull back a little before sliding forward once more, pushing a little deeper.

“Ahh, so good!” he gasped, pulling out again and pushing forward once more, a little more forcefully.

He felt Sword shudder beneath him with a groan, felt his cock harden further in his hand.

“That’s it,” Sen crooned to Sword, beginning to set a rhythm, slow and easy to start with.

Sword began to move beneath Sen also now, in time with each thrust. His breathing grew faster, his legs parted further, knee lifting higher, allowing Sen easier access and he took advantaged of this to push deeper.

Sen tried to stay conscious of the fact that this was probably Sword’s first time and he was unlikely to be able to take him all in. He may not have had as big a cock as Sword but he wasn’t exactly really small either and so he held back from pushing all the way in, even though every part of his body and mind was screaming at him to do so; to go as deep and as hard as he could. He ignored that desire and concentrated on what he was doing. This was enough for him.

Sword groaned and gripped at Sen’s legs, short fingernails scraping over his skin and raising goose-bumps. His back arched and he half rolled onto his stomach, drawing Sen over him further as his hand was almost trapped beneath Sword’s body as he continued to tug at his cock. Sen leant lower, allowing his body to curve over Sword’s hunched back, feeling his spine pressing against his chest. He ran his tongue along that curve, tasting the salt from Sword’s sweat.

Sword shuddered and jerked again, pressing back harder against Sen’s cock, drawing his knees further under him so he was now on hands and knees. Sen wrapped himself around his partner, feeling as though he wanted to find a way seep into Sword’s skin, meld with him and become one with him forever.

Sword began to thrust backwards against him faster, his moans growing deeper, trying to increase the pace.

“Sen!” he gasped out, one hand wrapped around Sen’s hand on his own cock, tugging on it also.

“Sword!” Sen answered.

“Argh!” Sword pushed back, dropping his hips as though he was going to sit in Sen’s lap and jerked hard as this change in position made Sen’s cock brush against his prostate. “There!” he demanded.

Obeying, Sen obligingly moved to find the same spot and it took only two thrusts for him to do so, delighting in being able to hear Sword cry out in such pleasure.

Yes, Sen thought as he continued to pump into Sword’s body, feeling it writhe beneath him and push back over and over against him. This is what he had wanted; Sword in the throes of passion caused entirely by him and no-one else. He wanted to be the only one to hear this kind of voice issue from Sword’s throat. He wanted to be the only cause for it.

He couldn’t hold on any longer, it was now all too much for him. He felt bad it was so short when Sword could go for so long but the intensity of the sensations coursing through his body, coupled with the fulfillment of his fantasy, was more than he could take. He had had his wish granted

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, clasping Sword to him, whispering in his ear. “I’m coming!”

As he said it he felt his balls tightening, drawing upward, his muscles tensing. There was nothing that could stop it now.

“Together!” Sword gasped out.

Sen sat upright, back arching, head thrown back as his hips snapped forward hard, plunging deep inside the warm body before him, his fingers pressing deeply into the flesh as he held on tightly to the hips and moved the body in time with his motions. He let out a chocked cry which ripped from the back of his throat as his entire body shuddered with an intensity that almost hurt and the breath caught in his chest.

“I love you! I love you!” he cried out in ecstasy.

Sword thrust backwards at the same time, impaling himself onto Sen’s pulsating cock, and as Sen emptied himself inside, he heard Sword’s high cry of “Sen!!”, and felt his body jerk as his channel spasmed, tightening and pulsating around his cock, drawing another shuddering cry from him. The realization that they had climaxed together made the moment all the sweeter.

As the last drop was wrung from him, Sen collapsed forward, dropping over Sword’s body as he too collapsed onto the bed. Their rapid breathing mingled as they both gasped to draw oxygen into starved lungs, as sweat slick skin slid against each other, cooling in the breeze drifting through the room.

Sen carefully lifted his hips a little, feeling his softened cock slide from inside Sword, feeling the rush of fluid against the tip as it leaked out also. He lay at Sword’s side, rolling entirely onto his back with a deep sigh. Sword remained still and silent, facing away from Sen.

Sen felt the pricking at the back of his eyes as he gazed firstly at the still back, then up at the ceiling and bit his trembling bottom lip. He’d been a fool, he thought, as he struggled to hold back the tears. He’d got his wish but lost the only thing he wanted to hold onto.

“I’m sorry,” he said brokenly, raising one arm and laying it across his eyes, hiding the tears spilling from them. “I…I’ll leave in the morning.”

He felt the bed shift beneath him but didn’t remove his arm. He wondered if the last thing he would feel would be a knife slicing across his throat or plunging deep into his chest. Sword had killed people for less than what he had just done. Well, if he was going to die he would rather it was at Sword’s hand than any other way.

Instead of the cold slice of steel, warm lips covered his in a gentle kiss. A firm hand lifted his arm away from his weeping eyes and he could see Sword gazing down at him.

“You idiot,” Sword said, reaching up with his other hand to carefully wipe away the dampness on his cheeks. “Why the hell would you want to leave?”

“I…” Sen couldn’t continue.

Sword frowned at him for a moment. “Look, I’m not saying I’m that pleased with getting ambushed but if you had wanted to do that why didn’t you talk to me, huh?”

“I….thought you would say ‘no’.” Sen answered honestly.

“So doing it while I’m asleep was your answer?” He suddenly looked at Sen suspiciously. “You didn’t drug my coffee as well or something did you?”

“Of course not!” Sen said indignantly. “What would I want to do that for?”

“Well, you didn’t seem to have any problems with attacking me when I wasn’t awake!”

“That’s entirely different!” Sen replied.

“Humph! Whatever!”

Sword lay back on the bed, rolling onto his back also so they lay side by side, shoulder and hip pressed against each other.

“So…” Sen began, “how was it?” He honestly wanted to know Sword’s answer yet at the same time was terrified of hearing it.

“Okay. I guess.”

“You guess!” Sen didn’t know whether to be outraged or mortified. He knew he didn’t have a great deal of experience but he had hoped that he had made it at least a little bit enjoyable for Sword.

Sword suddenly rolled onto his side again, one arm thrown across Sen’s chest. “It was good, you moron.” he said with a cocky grin then winced a little as he shifted. “But I’m gonna beat you black and blue if I can’t sit down tomorrow!”

“You spend all your time lying on the beach anyway, not sitting, so that’s hardly going to be a problem.”

“Yeah, I suppose there is that,” Sword grudgingly admitted. He gave a wide yawn and dropped his head to the pillow. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“Sure,” Sen said, feeling so very relieved. Everything was still all right between them.

He closed his eyes with a yawn of his own as sleep stole over him. He felt Sword’s arm tighten around his waist and a soft whisper at his ear.

“I won’t ever leave you. Aishiteru.”

~End~

UGH - Under Grand Hotel Fic - Barred Dreams

2007-08-24T11:50:24Z

Whilst away recently my muse came out and played in a number of areas. Now I've just got to type them up!
This time UGH got a little bit of muse time!

Title: Barred Dreams
Author: JadeHeart
Fandom: UGH –Under Grand Hotel (manga)
Pairing: Sword/Sen
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: sex situations
Summary: Even dreams can be imprisoned and Sen has one that he knows will never see the light of day.

Sen lay there in the dark, staring up at the springs of the bunk above him. The warmth at his side was comforting, Sword's arm thrown possessively across his stomach a welcome touch. He knew he wouldn’t trade this with anyone.

Their time together had been turbulent; filled with treachery, betrayal and lies, between others but mostly themselves. When they had both finally given into the feelings that were tying their emotions in knots; when they were finally able to admit and voice those feelings, putting them into words, suddenly it had seemed like everything had become crystal clear in a blinding way that made them wonder why they hadn’t admitted it sooner.

Sword snuffled in his sleep, burrowing his face in closer to the crook of Sen’s neck, one leg sliding over Sen’s and slipping between.

A smile stole over Sen’s face. Sword would never admit to how possessive he was. Yet even when he slept, every movement announced to anyone who saw them that Sen belonged to him, and only him. It was a trait that Sen found rather endearing, although it also caused a great deal of concern as he knew that Sword would kill because of that same possessiveness.

He desperately wanted to roll over onto his stomach. His arse was beginning to throb from lying on his back for all this time. Sword had been particularly passionate tonight. Sen couldn’t think why. Nothing special had happened that he knew of, either good or bad. Not that he knew everything about what went on in Sword’s day. His other ‘business’ he stayed out of – by choice and also by Sword’s own insistence for his well being. Sword didn’t want him mixed up in that side of things in UGH and that suited him. There was enough to worry about in this place without adding anything more.

His arse gave another throb and he winced. No matter how many times he did it, no matter how used to it he thought he was, it would still hurt afterwards. Not so bad nowadays as it used to, but when Sword got carried away like tonight, Sen would suffer for it the next day.

The pain was now too much to ignore and so he eased his leg from under Sword’s and managed to roll over onto his stomach without waking his slumbering partner. As soon as he had shifted position, Sword’s arm tightened about his waist and drew him in closer. No, there was no getting away from this man.

From his new position Sen gazed at Sword’s sleeping face. It looked surprisingly different when he was asleep. Only now did it show his true age, show just how young he was, a youth barely out of his teens. The cynical look was gone, the cold hard eyes were hidden, the harsh cutting tongue was silent. In sleep, Sword looked at peace, a word Sen never really thought could ever be associated with someone like him.

Sen’s arse throbbed again. Damn, Sword really did a number on him this time. He was going to have to tell him when he awoke that they would have to abstain for a few days which was not going to make Sword happy.

Another throb; this time running down the back of his legs also. Sen recalled his legs pressed high over Sword’s shoulders, parting him completely so he could plunge deeper inside. He was sure that he would have bruises imprinted on his thighs where Sword’s fingers had dug in, holding him, pulling him back against each thrust.

Sen shuddered, his body flushing with heat at the memory. He had thought he was going to die tonight. First, Sword had made him come from just a blow job, always a good start to the evening. But then he had proceeded to bring him to climax no less than three times, relentlessly pounding deep inside, unerringly striking that sweet spot over and over again, making Sen moan and writhe in pleasure.

Each time he had come he had thought it would be enough for Sword but it hadn’t been. He continued to control Sen’s every thought and motion, his body like a toy of Sword’s own making. Only by the last time when Sen had cried out in pleasure almost bordering on pain as his fourth climax ripped from his body, smearing liberally between their moving bodies, did he finally feel Sword stiffen and shudder, then jerk hard a few more times as that liquid warmth filled him inside.

Sword rarely bothered with a condom now, not caring about the possible uncleanliness and insistent that Sen also forewent one, saying he liked to feel Sen’s release on both their bodies and being able to see it spill from him. He had been looking deep into Sen’s eyes when he had told him this, saying how much it turned him on and said like that, with Sen able to see and feel the difference in Sword’s performance from exactly that, he had decided he could put up with the mess it frequently made.

However, Sen was still a little uncomfortable about it at times and so had made the effort to try to keep himself far cleaner inside also. A bit of judicious checking via the internet, with the help of an imprisoned computer geek, he had been able to peruse a few sites to get some pointers on what to do. He didn’t particularly like having to go through the actions but it did seem to help a little and make it easier for them both.

Of course, that only worked if Sword stuck to a routine and they had sex after he’d done it which usually wasn’t the case. With Sword, sex could be at anytime and any place and Sen had become quite used to that by now. Not just used to it, but excited by it. All it took was for Sword to indicate his desire and Sen found himself getting hard. That’s what this man could make him do.

But no matter how much he desired it, no matter how much he had come to love feeling Sword’s arms around him, to feel his body pressing down on his, to feel Sword’s cock thrusting inside him drawing out such intense pleasure that he never knew he could feel. Despite all that, he wanted more now.

His eyes continued to roam over the man lying next to him. The long dread locks coiled around the head like sleeping serpents, lying over the pillow and trailing down Sword’s shoulders. They were very soft, despite their appearance, and as they touched Sen’s body in the throes of passion it would feel like as though Sword had a hundred hands touching him everywhere.

Sen’s eyes continued their journey. The sheet was bunched up around their waists so Sword’s strong back was bare. He could see the slight rise and fall as Sword breathed, slow and steady. He looked further down over Sword’s shoulder and could see that the sheet did not quite cover Sword’s lower back and he could see the roundness of firm buttocks where they joined.

Another flush of heat burned his body, not from memory this time but from fantasy. Since his return to Sword’s side and their mutual admission of love, he had been plagued by these dreams over and over again. The fact that he knew he would never be able to fulfill them did not make it any less potent. In fact, it seemed to intensify it because of its improbability.

His short time with Norman had opened up another view to him. Up until then he had been the receiver, he was the one who would be made to feel completely boneless and without will, entirely at Sword’s mercy. But while with Norman he had found another pleasure. The pleasure of being the controller, the pleasure of drawing those cries of ecstasy from another.

He had felt guilty that as he would watch Norman lying on his side as he fingered him, his hands jerking his stiff erection, moaning in pleasure, that he envisioned Sword like that. When he turned Norman onto his hands and knees and thrust into him from behind, as he leant over the sweating back and reached under to wrap a hand around his pulsing shaft, squeezing it in time to his movements and feeling it jerk and fill the condom, that he wished it was Sword.

He couldn’t help it when the image of Sword overlaid Norman as he willingly rolled onto his back, spreading his legs, inviting Sen to plunder his depths. For Sen the ultimate would be to have Sword do that; to willingly give himself to Sen, to give him that control and freedom to do as he wanted.

Sen wanted to see Sword lift himself to sit on his lap, to slowly slide down his stiff erection, slick with Sword’s saliva, then to ride him hard, head thrown back as they both came together.

The heat in Sen’s body continued to build as these unrelenting thoughts gave him no respite. He could feel his hard erection pressed firmly into the mattress beneath him. He tried to rub himself against it, closing his eyes and concentrating in the hope he could bring himself to completion quickly.

He was suddenly aware of a hand sliding over his buttocks, tracing down the cleft to slip between his parted legs to cup his testicles, squeezing. He gasped and his hips rose slightly.

The hand slid under his body further, taking advantage of this movement. Now it wrapped around his aching cock and began to stroke him. He groaned again, burying his face into his arms and pillow. He felt the mattress shift as Sword moved, felt his body now lying more across his back, hot breath caressing his ear and making him shudder.

“Seems like you’re ready for another round, huh?” Sword’s whisper was intoxicating, sending shivers up Sens’ spine.

“Uh,” was all he was able to respond as Sword expertly jerked him off.

He felt Sword’s hot kisses on his cheek, his temple, hot tongue trailing a blazing path across the back of his neck. Sword gave a small bite to the back of his shoulder, a technique that they had both discovered to be highly erotic, and sure enough Sen jerked at the touch, moaning again and he knew that Sword could feel his cock twitch in his grip at the same time.

He felt Sword move again but his mind was mainly taken up with the pleasure that his hand was giving him. He then felt a second hand slide under his waist, raising his hips. He tried to conjure up a protest, to say he thought he would split in two if Sword took him again, but the jerking on his cock intensified and stopped all thought as his hips bucked up before pressing into the firm hand that gripped him.

He felt a coldness then against his rear and gasped at the contact, both from the chill and the slight pain as a digit slid inside. He gritted his teeth at the burning and tearing feeling, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes. Sword continued to gently finger him, sometimes withdrawing only to return with more coldness as further cream was smeared inside Sen.

Suddenly Sen realized that there didn’t seem to be any pain any longer. He was confused for a moment but then ceased to wonder about it as he felt a familiar pressure against his arse as Sword pushed inside.

“Easy,” Sword murmured. “Relax and I’ll be in soon.”

Sen automatically did as instructed, the baser nature of his body remembering the pleasure it could receive if it accepted this intrusion. He felt the pressure intensify and then suddenly the resistance ended, to be replaced with a pressure sensation as Sword’s hard cock continued to push in, filling him to capacity.

His body welcomed this invasion, responding immediately and he groaned deeply.

“That’s good,” Sword murmured as he withdrew and pushed back in again.

Sen could feel him hunched over his back, the tendrils of his dread locks trailing over his back raising goose-bumps across his flesh. Sword began to thrust in earnest then; faster, harder, his own breathing ragged. Sen could feel his fingers flex into the soft flesh of his buttocks and inner thighs, digging in.

Sword continued to thrust into him as he breathed through every pulse. As the pleasure intensified, Sen could picture in his mind doing this to Sword; being able to grip that taut body, run his hands over that smooth skin and feel the ripple of muscles as they bunched and released with every thrust. He could imagine what it would feel like to hear Sword’s voice rising with pleasure, gasping in need.

Sword suddenly pulled him back so he was practically sitting on the other’s legs. This position plunged Sword’s cock in even deeper bringing dark spots to Sen’s vision as he felt his body tense up, arching back against the man behind him. His back bowed, head resting on Sword’s shoulder as the other bit hard into the side of his neck, their joined hands over his cock pumping as he let out a high cry and he climaxed hard, semen spurting upwards in a high arc, spattering his chest and chin.

He could feel his channel squeeze tight in a corresponding contraction, could feel it gripping Sword’s hard cock so tightly he couldn’t move and heard the hoarse shout as Sword made also, one hand crossed over Sen’s chest to reach up and grip his shoulder, pressing him down hard, burying himself as deeply as he could as his entire body jerked as he came.

Sen could feel that familiar warmth filling him, felt Sword’s release spurting against the walls of his channel. The last coherent thought he had was how he wished he could do this to Sword and see Sword’s face at this moment.

When he next opened his eyes he saw Sword lying beside him. They had made it a habit that after having sex they would generally strip the bed of the soiled bed clothes, bringing the clean ones from the top bunk down to sleep in. It had made things a lot more comfortable for them, especially since Sword had called in a favour and had their bed linen laundered each day instead of waiting for the usual wash day. The clean smell and crisp feel the sheet he was lying on and the one over his body told him that Sword must have already made this change. That meant he must have passed out after.

He could feel a soft gentle hand making soothing circles across his lower back.

“How’s your arse?” Sword asked softly.

Sen concentrated for a moment.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he said with surprise.

Considering how he had felt prior, after this last bout he should have been screaming in pain and bleeding heavily. A slight stickiness indicated that the latter was actually occurring but it didn’t seem too bad.

Sword pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his rounded shoulder. “I got the cream from the doc,” he said, leaning back. “He said it would numb everything so there was no pain. Thought you might need it.”

Sen was touched by Sword’s concern and care, although he had a feeling that no little part of it was that it would make it easier for Sword to keep having sex for longer. Still, it did show he was thinking of Sen as well. It was moments like this that Sword would show a more tender side, only when he chose to, very much in contrast to his general nature.

Sword shifted, making himself comfortable.

“We’d better take it easy for the next couple of days,” he said, lying on his back and closing his eyes. “Don’t want to do any permanent damage to you.”

“You just don’t want to have to look for another sex toy,” Sen said with a smile, taking away any sting to the words.

Sword cracked an eye open. “Too right! They’re a bitch to train.”

“Really,” Sen said quietly, dropping his eyes and trying to smother the stab of hurt at that reference. He still felt at times a little uncertain as to just how much did Sword love him or was it just about the sex.

A hand cupped the side of his face before sliding through his hair to the back of his head.

“I’ve given up toys. That’s why I’m sticking to only the real thing, and with the one I really want.”

When looking at Sword’s face and hearing him say such words, Sen’s heart was soothed. He smiled in return.

“Don’t you go all mushy on me,” he said with a small laugh. “People will think you’ve gone soft.”

“Ha!” Sword snorted. “Not likely!”

He leant forward so their foreheads touched.

“You’re the only one who will ever see me like this,” he promised.

Sen closed his eyes in response, feeling comforted and at peace. “I know,” he said.

He felt fatigue dragging at his eyelids as his body finally gave way to the strain that had been placed upon it. He could feel Sword’s breath brushing his face, slowing, and he knew that sleep had claimed his lover as he too felt himself falling into that blackness.

But as he did, the last image in his mind was the imagined look of Sword’s face in utter ecstasy as Sen thrust deep inside him.

~End~

Sailor Moon: Sailor Stars fic - An Eternity of Pleasure, Part 1

2007-08-09T14:19:16Z

This was my second attempt at getting the fic out that I wanted. It is sort of like a Chapter 2 to 'A Moment of Passion', but at the same time I felt that it was also more like a stand-alone fic due to the content matter.

The rest of it will have to wait till I return!

Title: An Eternity of Pleasure
Author: JadeHeart
Fandom: Sailor Moon: Sailor Stars (anime)
Pairing: Seiya/Usagi
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance, then to the Sex!
Summary: Usagi and Seiya make a commitment to each other and choose to take those first steps together.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this, they belong to the creators of ‘Sailor Moon’, nor am I making any profits from it.

This is the sequel, or continuation if you like, from ‘A Moment of Passion’.

I had intend to try and write a sexual fic when I started ‘A Moment of Passion’ but I just couldn’t seem to do it so it only had a touch of sexual overtone and then became a little fuzzy. So I tried again – which is how this sequel was spawned. Personally, I found it quite difficult to write the sex in this chapter as the characters are only supposed to be around 16 years old; and I know this is considered well and truly old enough in most places for sexual activity, but I’m rather old fashioned in my views of sex as a teen.

So it was a challenge to see if I could - (a) actually write sex between the characters at this age, and (b) write it so it wasn’t too ‘adult’ or just pure smut.

-oOo-

Usagi blew lightly on the hot tea, cooling it a little before taking a sip, feeling the steam brush against her face, warming it.

She drank carefully, unable to not notice Seiya doing the same from the corner of her eye. No matter how hard she tried to not look at him she found that her eyes were constantly drawn back to him. Just having him sitting so close to her was making her heart beat fast and her body constantly felt hot, hotter than her legs tucked under the kotatsu.

“That’s good!” Seiya suddenly said, making her jump a little in surprise.

“Oh?” was all she managed to say.

He looked at her, head tilted to one side as he leant back against the side of her bed, grinning. “Are you zoning out again? Man, are you spacey at times!”

“I’m not!” she argued back automatically.

The grin never left his face as he reached out and ruffled her hair. “Yes, you are! You are just so weird!”

She swatted his hand away and tossed her head, sticking her nose in the air. “Look who’s talking?” she said loftily. “Who’s the one wearing a girl’s bathrobe, so who’s the strangest?!”

“Er…” Seiya flushed as he looked down at himself then his shoulders slumped. “Okay, I give in. You’re right, I’m the weird one.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Oh, man, I hope I don’t talk in my sleep and Taiki and Yaten hear about this!”

“Do you talk in your sleep?” Usagi asked curiously.

Seiya grinned at her and shrugged. “I don’t know,” He suddenly leant forward so their faces were almost touching. “Do you want to find out?” he said in a low seductive voice.

A shiver ran down Usagi’s spine as his voice seemed to caress her. “No, no, no!” she said frantically, trying to scrabble back but the bed behind prevented her from going very far.

Seiya sat back again, waving his hand to calm her. “Hey, I was just kidding! Don’t panic.”

“Oh,” Usagi’s heart calmed a little but she couldn’t understand why she also felt a little….disappointed. “Oh, of course.”

Seiya picked up his cup and drank again before setting it back on the table and stretching his arms upwards towards the ceiling. “Ahhhh!” he said with obvious relish.

Usagi couldn’t help but notice the way the robe fell open further, once again fully exposing Seiya’s smooth torso. Her eyes traced the contours of his body, the outline of the muscles, noting the darker colouring of his nipples in contrast to the rest of his pale skin. She flushed again, feeling the heat begin deep inside her once more, dropping her head to hide her embarrassment.

“I think you must be coming down with something already,” Seiya suddenly said and she felt his hand touch her chin and turn her face towards him. She gazed at him with wide eyes as he looked at her with concern, raising his other hand to slide it under her bangs and hold it against her forehead. He frowned a little. “You do feel hot. Do you have some medicine you can take? I don’t want you to get sick. Where is it? I’ll get it for you.”

“No, I’m fine,” Usagi began.

“You’re not,” Seiya said, still frowning at her and not releasing her face. “I can feel how hot you are.”

“That’s because you’re….” Usagi clapped her hand over her mouth, her face flushing further.

Seiya looked at her in surprise and some confusion. “I’m what?” he asked. He tilted her chin up higher trying to get her to look at him, but she shook her head, refusing to open her eyes which were squeezed shut tightly.

He gazed down at her, becoming intensely aware of the touch of her warm skin under his hands, the brush of her hair against his skin. Her lips were slightly parted, lips that were a soft shade of pink and glistening slightly from the moisture of the tea she had been drinking.

He felt a wave of desire flood through him and he tried to reign it back in. He hadn’t come here for this. He had wanted to just see that she was safe. He couldn’t have left her like that, crying and heart-broken. There was no way he could have walked away from her then, not for anything or anyone.

The fires kept banking within him. No, he had to control himself.

But…. his eyes wouldn’t leave her lips and he ran his tongue over his own dry ones. His breathing had sped up and his heart was racing, making the blood pound in his head. He tried to make himself pull away but he couldn’t seem to make his body do what he wanted. It wanted to remain here, close to her, and it wanted even more.

Just a small taste, he compromised with it. Just a small, soft moment so it wouldn’t frighten her, nothing more. Then he would let her go.

He leant closer, his eyes closing just before contact with Usagi’s upraised lips. He applied only the slightest pressure, just enough to ensure there was full contact, feeling her lips soft and malleable against his, warm and moist. He stayed like that, wishing the moment could last forever, wishing it could be his forever. But it wasn’t and wouldn’t be. She had another who she loved. She couldn’t be his.

Reluctantly he drew back, his lips seeming to quest back toward her, loathe to leave that warmth but he was firm this time, withdrawing from her. He gazed down at her face, eyes still closed and then slowly those beautiful eyes opened to look up at him. He held his breath praying that he wouldn’t see fear, disgust, or worse, contempt for his weakness. There wasn’t any of those emotions but he couldn’t read what was there.

With a last gentle touch to her cheek he released her face and leant back, giving her space.

“Sorry,” he said self-consciously. He glanced away, feeling very embarrassed now, and a little disgusted with himself for his weak will. “I know I shouldn’t have done that. Don’t worry, I won’t try it again, I promise.”

He dropped his head into his hands, hiding his face, afraid now of facing her. “I’m honestly not trying to take advantage of the situation! I meant what I said before, but I know you have another and I do understand and I’m not trying to make things difficult for you!”

He suddenly slammed one fist down on the table making the cups rattle. “Damn it! I’ve ruined everything now! Look, I’ll go. I’m sorry. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me some day.”

He half turned to draw his long legs out from under the table so he could stand when he felt a light touch on his hand still clenched on the table top.

He glanced down in surprise to see Usagi’s small hand lying over the top of his fist, fingers cupping his. He looked quickly across to her at his side to see her looking down at their conjoined grip.

“I…” she said in a small voice, not looking up at him but he could feel her hand trembling. “I know you aren’t….a bad person,” she said. “I….There’s nothing for me to forgive.”

He held his breath as she reached out and wrapped her other hand around his also, holding his hand with both of hers now.

She still didn’t raise her head but he could see the flush on her cheeks and her voice wavered as she continued speaking. “I….don’t want you…to go.” she said almost too softly for him to hear.

His heart seemed to stop in his chest but he was afraid to do or say anything. He didn’t fully understand what she was trying to say to him but the simple fact that she had asked him to stay with her made his soul take flight like a bird escaping from a cage. He felt almost giddy with joy, and relief.

He remained still, not making any further move to stand and leave but uncertain what he should do next. Usagi’s hands remained clasped around his and so slowly he released his clenched fist, turning his hand over so he could twine his fingers with hers, holding her. He could still feel her trembling, the hand in his quivering and he only continued to hold it gently. He placed his other hand over the top of hers lightly, not trying to restrain her in any way, ensuring that she could remove her hands at any time if she so chose.

“Thank you,” he said softly, trying to lean down so he could see her face.

Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his.

“Thank you.” he said again with a small smile.

She gave a tremulous smile in return and he could see that her eyes were bright, as though with unshed tears. His heart lurched with a feeling akin to pain. He hated seeing her upset, and he hated himself when he was the one who caused it.

“I want you to know you will always be safe with me,” he said, still keeping his voice soft. “I promise I won’t do anything to ever hurt you. I promise you can trust me.”

“I…know.” she whispered.

The tableau held for a moment longer and Seiya felt his resolve begin to waver again. Firmly he released her hands and sat back once more. He would not lose control as he had before. He would not jeopardize everything just because of his wants. Usagi deserved so much better.

“Well, that made me thirsty!” he said brightly, changing the mood completely and reached for the teapot to refill their cups. He knew it was probably almost cold but at least the tension seemed to relax in the room a little.

He glanced across to see Usagi give a small smile which made him sigh with relief mentally. He smiled more fully as he offered the cup. “Drink up,” he instructed. “The tea will help stop you from getting a cold.”

“Thank you,” she said taking it and drinking immediately.

Thanks goodness, he thought as he tipped his head back and drank from his own luke-warm cup. It seemed like things were still okay between them.

He heard a clink and looked up to see Usagi setting her cup down carefully on the table before placing her hands on her knees. “Seiya,” she said quietly. “About what you said….”

“Ah, don’t worry about that!” he interrupted quickly, setting his cup down hurriedly. “Look, just forget about it, okay? We can pretend it never happened!”

“Do…you want to….forget it?”

Her quiet question halted him in his tracks. Huh? He looked at her dropped head, face hidden behind a curtain of blonde hair. Was she…..?

He slowly reached out and touch her head, gently running his fingers through the silken strands. “You have beautiful hair,” he said.

She lifted her head then to look at him and he smiled at her.

“It’s like the golden rays of the sun,” He lifted the strands and let them slide through his hand, falling to lie over her shoulder. Before the last could slide from his grip he lifted it to his lips, closing his eyes as he bestowed a kiss upon it before looking up at Usagi. He could see the blush touch her cheeks as she clasped her hands together.

He continued to hold onto those last few strands of hair as he spoke. “I truly meant what I said,” he answered her honestly. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. So if it will make it easier for you, then I’m willing to forget it.”

“I….,” Usagi paused then slowly her hands reached up and wrapped around his still holding her hair. “I…don’t want to forget.” she said, finally looking at him fully although her cheeks were still flushed.

His heart began to beat faster again and he took a deep shuddering breath at the touch of her hands around his.

“Can I….kiss you again?” he asked breathlessly, wondering what her answer would be.

“Yes,” she answered quietly, lifting her chin and closing her eyes.

He gazed down at her, at the way she was offering herself to him and he was for once at a loss of what he should do. He still had doubts; doubts about her feelings for him, guilt for trying to take her away from another man, doubts of what he truly wanted and if it was right. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Slowly he lifted his other hand and slid it along her cheek, cupping her face and lowered his head to place a kiss upon those proffered lips once more.

This time he held the kiss, not withdrawing as he had before. He felt Usagi’s lips part slightly beneath his, felt her warmth breath against his lips and he lightly touched her lips with the tip of his tongue. He felt her start a little under his hand but she didn’t pull away so he continued. He let his tongue slide fully over her lips, first the top, then the bottom, tracing their outline.

He felt her shiver at this contact and he turned his body more fully towards her so their knees now touched. He now let his tongue flick forward to lightly touch her teeth, felt them part under the pressure of his lips and as they did he slid his tongue further into her mouth, a quick darting touch before withdrawing again. He returned to just kissing her, breathing in her scent and then let his tongue dart forward again, lightly running over her teeth, a fleeting touch across her lips before withdrawing a second time. He heard the soft moan she gave at this contact and he felt his excitement increase further.

Slowly he pulled his legs under him so he too was kneeling as she was. Knee to knee they knelt before each other. Slowly he lifted her so she was no longer sitting back on her heels, doing the same himself. He released his hold on her hair and let that arm steal around her waist, pulling her in tightly against his body. His greater height forced her head back further, exposing the long thin column of her neck and he let his fingers slip down from her face to trail down that length.

She moaned again at this touch and he slowly broke the kiss, dropping soft kisses to her closed eyelids, on each cheek, on her nose, another soft brush to those wonderful lips, then he lowered his head so he could place a gentle kiss on the soft underside of her jaw, feeling the pulse point beating fast under his lips.

Her hands were now resting on his shoulders, fingers clasping him. As he kissed her neck, letting his tongue trail over the soft skin, he felt her fingers tangle in his hair. He almost froze with this contact, the sensations running through his body almost overloading his mind. He clamped down on what he was feeling but it was becoming harder and harder. Never had he felt like this, never had he walked such a fine line between control and rampant desire. As he touched Usagi, as he kissed her, all he could keep thinking was that he wanted more of her. He wanted to feel everything about her, he wanted to be engulfed by her, have her belong to him completely and for her to have all of him. And those thoughts just continued to fan the flames of desire and need within him.

He dropped his head lower so it rested between her breasts and he closed his eyes as he held her like that, holding her tightly, hearing her heart beat. Her arms wrapped tightly about him, pulling him closer and he felt the warmth of her breath as she dropped a kiss to the top of his head. He tightened his grip on her at that touch, trying to calm his own racing thoughts and emotions. He realized he had to stop this. If he didn’t now he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to hold on to his sanity.

Reluctantly he pulled away from her, sitting back on his heels but keeping his hands on her shoulders, loath to relinquish contact with her completely. He gave her a shaky smile, swallowing hard.

“I think…” he said a little hoarsely, “that I had better go.”

He began to release her when she cried out, “But why?!” and reached up to grip his wrists.

He took a deep breath and tried to still his racing heart. “Because….I don’t think you understand what might happen if I stay.” He tried to keep smiling at her, not wanting to scare her but having to try and be completely honest with her. “I….don’t want to do anything to hurt you ever again. So I had better go now.”

“But I want you to stay!” Usagi refused to release her grip as he tried to pull away.

“I…can’t!” he said forcefully, jerking back, breaking her hold and falling sideways against the side of the bed. He dropped his head into one hand, hiding his face, ashamed of what he was feeling. “If I stay I’ll do something we’ll both regret!”

“I don’t care!” Usagi cried and suddenly threw herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him. “I don’t care what you do! I want you to stay with me! Please, don’t leave me alone!”

Seiya’s arms rose as though to close around her but instead he clench his hands into fists and held them away, forcing them back down by his side. His heart was beating furiously, pounding so hard in his chest it hurt. He tried to push away the sensations he was feeling; the silken touch of Usagi’s hair as it lay across his bare chest, almost tickling his nipples, her warm breath caressing his skin, the feel of her body pressed against his, lying between his legs, pressure against his groin making him extremely uncomfortable as an internal pressure grew.

He kept a firm grip on his emotions, raising his eyes to the look at the ceiling, squeezing his eyes shut as he spoke. “Usagi, you don’t know what you are asking of me,” he said.

“I do, I do!” Usagi wailed against him chest, shaking her head so her hair swished over his flesh, raising goose-bumps and making him shiver unconsciously with pleasure.

“Please,” he begged her, the nails of his hands digging into his palms as he clenched his hands tighter. “Please let me go. I….can’t keep holding back.”

“I don’t want you to hold back!” Usagi said, raising her head to look at him, eyes bright.

He looked down at her, finding her even more beautiful with her hair down and now tangled around both her and him. Another flash of fire raced into his groin and he gritted his teeth together.

“Do you really understand what I’m talking about?” he asked quietly, knowing he was going to have to be very blunt now. He knew that Usagi seemed very innocent in many ways so he was certain that she really didn’t understand what he had been trying to tell her up till now. “Do you understand what I want to do with you?”

She flushed under his gaze and tried to drop her eyes.

“No,” he said, raising a hand and lifting her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I need to know you really understand what I’m saying to you, what I mean.” She didn’t reply but also didn’t try to hide from him further.

“Do you understand what you are doing to me?” he continued quietly. “I’m a man, Usagi, despite what else I am. I have….needs and desires just like any other person.”

He reached out with his other hand and brushed some hair back from her face. “I love you. With all my heart. I think I’ve loved you from the very first moment I saw you.” He smiled down at her at that fond memory. “And because I love you I want to be with you. In all ways. I want to be able to be with you, in spirit, in mind and ….in body.”

He saw her eyes widen a little and nodded. “Yes, that is what I am saying. Being here with you like this is hard for me. I want you, Usagi. I want to feel every part of you. I want to love and worship your entire being.” He released his grip on her chin and let his arms fall away again but he continued to meet her gaze. “That is why I can’t stay. If I do I will want so much more from you which you can’t give.”

He turned his head and made to more again when he felt her arms tighten around his waist once more. He looked down at her dropped head once more.

“Do….you really want ….all that?” she asked in a small voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said with complete sincerity. “I…know it seems callous and probably very unromantic and you probably think I’m not a very nice guy now, but I’m just trying to be honest. If it was any other time, if this was any other circumstance where things hadn’t got…out of hand or we weren’t dressed like this….I don’t know.”

He felt tears prick at the back of his eyes as she still didn’t raise her head. “I’m so sorry for being like this. That’s why it’s better if I go now. Before I make things worse than they already are.”

“Don’t,” he heard her say softly.

“Usagi,” he warned again, not wanting to have to try and explain more to her.

He suddenly started as he felt a kiss pressed against his chest. “Usagi,” he gasped, feeling the racing fires flare up and pool immediately in his groin.

“Don’t go,” she whispered again and this time he felt the tip of a tongue ghost over his nipple and he couldn’t prevent the deep groan that escaped him. That small tongue paused for a moment and then continued, touching him gently, almost teasingly, slowly circling around the nub, coaxing it to hardness, flicking over the tip.

Those light touches were beginning to drive him wild, making his body jerk at each soft contact, his voice belying his feelings. When Usagi closed her lips around his aroused nipple and suckled he couldn’t prevent himself from arching upwards, head slipping back as he cried out in ecstasy, hands clenched on the floor by his side.

He felt her release him and he sagged back in almost relief. When he opened his eyes he found her starting up at him, eyes filled with wonder, surprise and a little uncertainty.

“Was that…good for you?’ she asked hesitantly.

He gave her a shaky smile, unable to conjure up any of his usual bravado. “Very,” was the best he could manage at that moment. He reached out and stroked her head. “Thank you.”

He dropped a light kiss to the top of her head and tried to sit more upright. Instead of moving away as he had thought she would Usagi moved in closer, settling directly between his legs, arms sliding up to rest on his chest. She gazed up at him with serious eyes and he couldn’t help but get lost in them for a moment.

One of her small delicate hands slid over his skin to his opposite nipple and lightly touched it. He gasped at the contact, unable to suppress it as he had become quite sensitive.

“Is this what I should do?” Usagi asked.

He reached up and clasped her hand halting her movements. “You don’t have to ‘do’ anything.”’ he said with a soft smile. “I don’t expect you to.”

“I know,” she said, then glanced down and blushed before turning her head aside. “But you…look….like you….” She didn’t complete the sentence, only blushed harder and Seiya now looked down also.

What he saw made him blush too. The robe he’d been wearing had completely parted at some stage, the tie having come undone and so now it lay pushed back on either side of his body. This revealed the short towel that till then had been firmly tucked around his waist but now had also slipped apart. It hadn’t opened to expose him completely but it certainly left nothing to the imagination and the way that it now clung to his body clearly showed the state of arousal that he was in.

“Oh,” was all he could say, turning his head to one side and feeling the heat on his face. With Usagi in his arms he was unable to try and cover himself, and it was obvious that she had already seen it so it seemed a little late now.

“Well,” He cleared his throat, trying to salvage some dignity. “That happens, you know. With guys, I mean.” He cleared his throat again. “So don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

“But don’t you want to…” Usagi coughed slightly and flushed harder. “Do something about it?”

“Well, you know, I can do that later,” he said hurriedly, feeling highly embarrassed to be discussing such an act with Usagi.

“But…I could help you,” she said in a small voice. “If you show me how.”

Seiya felt like his heart had just stopped again. Usagi was always surprising him. That was certainly the very last thing he had ever thought he would hear from her.

“No, no, that’s fine,” he said quickly. He didn’t want her to try and force herself to do something that she didn’t want to.

Now she did look up at him, leaning against him so their faces were on the same level. “But I want to!” she said, and pressed her lips against his in a fierce kiss.

Seiya didn’t move for a moment but then his arms came up to draw her in closer, holding her tightly. One of her knees pressed against his erection and he moaned softly into her mouth at the contact. She moved a little, causing her knee to touch him again and once more he moaned. He was certain now that she was doing it deliberately. She had noticed his response and was now continuing to pleasure him. He couldn’t stop the smile that curved his lips as he kissed her deeply.

He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist and lifted her, slipping one leg between hers and then lowering her so she now straddled his leg. This time as she pressed her knee against his groin he lifted his leg to rub between hers. He was rewarded with a sharp gasp and cry and the feel of her fingers digging into his chest as she bucked against him.

He tangled one hand in her hair at the back of her head to hold her in the kiss and repeated the gesture, feeling her squirm delightfully against him. He broke the kiss to trail more down her neck as she arched back as he lifted his leg again. As she did this, her knee slid further forward pressing without relief against his hard erection and he groaned deeply against her skin, his fingers pressing into her soft flesh as he held her, trying to control his response.

He moved one hand lower to curl around her leg and lifted her, breathing a sigh of relief as the pressure eased and he could think a little clearer, as he gently laid her down on the floor.

He could feel the heat emanating from under the kotatsu and washing over them both. Not that he needed that artificial warmth any longer. It felt like his entire body was on fire all ready. He brought his lips back to Usagi’s, kissing her deeply, feeling her hands slide around his neck and pulling him down to her, feeling her lips part now automatically under his, her tongue flicking out to meet his.

He remainted lying at her side, trying to ensure that he didn’t frighten her in any way and letting her know that if she wished to stop at any point she could do so. He tried to lift his hand to touch her face when he was halted in that action. He tugged again but was foiled and was forced to break the kiss to look down at what was causing the problem. He found that the too small robe that he still wore had bundled beneath him and tangled with his arms, restricting his motion.

He heard Usagi giggle and looked down at her, to see her eyes sparkling with humour. “You had better take that off,” she said. “Otherwise you are going to rip it.”

He sat up and struggled to draw it aside, cursing a little under his breath as he did so. Usagi sat up also to help him and it wasn’t till he had only one arm still trapped that he realized that his modesty towel was also no longer present and he was completely naked before Usagi, bar for the necklace around his throat. He flushed and dropped his hands, trying to cover the upright erection he sported.

Usagi tugged on the robe with a frown. “What are you doing?” she said with another tug. “Put this arm up.”

He blushed again and then reluctantly lifted the arm in question, still trying to cover himself with his remaining hand. As the last of the robe slithered away with a satisfied, “There!” from Usagi, he immediately brought his other hand down again, hunching his shoulders a little and drawing his knees up.

“What’s the matter?” Usagi asked, shuffling closer on hands and knees so she could look up at him.

He looked down at her and felt his eyes widen, for a moment his thought no longer occupied by his own nakedness and embarrassment, as he realized that he could see right down the front of Usagi’s robe and that she was naked beneath it. He felt the flash of desire jolt through him as his breath caught, felt his erection twitch against his cupped hands and a drop of moisture smear over his palm.

“Is something wrong, Seiya?” Usagi was asking, concern in her voice.

“Ah…” He tried to get his thoughts back together and away from what was before him. “Ah…I’m….” he couldn’t continue. All higher brain functions seemed to have ceased for the moment as purely baser desires took over.

Usagi just continued to look at him and he could see the worry beginning in her eyes. Oh, heck, she was going to think that she’s done something wrong in a minute if he didn’t get his act together quickly!

He took a deep breath and tried to speak again. “I’m… just embarrassed,” he finally managed to say. “I’m completely naked here.”

Usagi looked down then and he saw her blush and swallow hard. “Oh,” she said in a small voice, her eyes fixed on his groin. A quick glance down revealed that he hadn’t done a particularly good job of hiding things for the tip of his erection was showing, pressed up against his stomach, a glistening drop of precum shining there.

“Oh, hell!” he hunched over some more as he tried to spread his hands wider to hide all evidence of his arousal. He knew his face must be red for he could feel the heat inside. This was just so damn embarrassing!

“Would….it help if I…..” Usagi began before pausing for a moment and then rushed on. “didn’t have clothes too?”

Seiya’s head snapped up as he looked at her incredulously. What had she just said?! He stared at her in stunned amazement, completing forgetting his current state. He could see that not only her face was flushed but it ran all the way down her neck and the touch of skin seen through the v-neck of her robe. He was suddenly filled with a desire to see if it covered the rest of her body as well.

He hadn’t answered her, he couldn’t answer her. He couldn’t seem to find his voice at all. Yes, he wanted to see her disrobe, he wanted to be able to touch her fully. But wasn’t it wrong of him to say it? He couldn’t tell her that is what he wanted!

He watched silently as she slowly raised her hands to the front of her robe and carefully began to undo each button, one after the other, all the time slowly moving lower.

He held his breath as the material gently folded away, still concealing most of her body apart from a single line of flesh down the centre. She finally reached the last button resting on her thighs and he saw her hands pause then, clenching in the material. He looked up as she lifted her head to meet his gaze and sat there before him as though waiting for him to make the next move.

He gazed at her beautiful face, those eyes that were so open and honest, reflecting every emotion she felt so clearly. A place in the back of his mind was telling him that he shouldn’t be doing this, that he should just walk away, but the rest of him ignored it. He wasn’t that strong.

Slowly he lifted his hands, ignoring the fact that this action left him unshielded. The time for embarrassment was gone now. The time for backing out was over. There was only forward now.

His fingers traced the length of her throat, dipping in the hollow at the base, slowly moving outwards to trace the wings of her collarbone. As his hands touched the cloth of Usagi’s open robe he slowly slid it outwards, letting the soft material slither across her smooth flesh, first revealing her smooth round shoulders before gradually slipping down her arms.

He gazed in rapt fascination as the material seemed to take on a life of its own, and like a stagehand drawing back the curtain it tantalizingly revealed each portion of Usagi in slow motion. He could only stare as it continued to slip lower, slowly gracing over the curve of her breasts and pooling at her hips, revealing her to his hungry gaze.
Now he could see, only too clearly, the rosy tinge to her pale skin. Obviously when she blushed it did cover all her body. His hand slid lower, down to her breast, moving outwards to slip underneath so he could cup its fullness. He lightly brushed his thumb across her nipple, delighted as it hardened immediately under his touch as Usagi gasped. Her other arm rose to cross over her chest, her head turning with embarrassment.

He reached out and drew her to him, drawing her close until her head rested on his chest as he held her.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered into her hair, placing a soft kiss there. “Everything about you is so beautiful.”

“Seiya,” she breathed, and he felt her relax against him further.

He let them remain like that, his eyes closed as he rested his cheek upon her head, just for the moment savouring the warmth of her body against his naked flesh, the feeling of her in his arms.

~TBC~

Sailor Moon: Sailor Stars fic - A Moment of Passion

2007-08-09T14:14:07Z

Okay, the muse decided to come out and play in its new sandbox again. I'm about to head to the airport in half an hour and IT wants to write a romance story! Stupid muse!

Title: A Moment of Passion
Author: JadeHeart
Fandom: Sailor Moon: Sailor Stars (anime)
Pairing: Seiya/Usagi
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance
Summary: Usagi makes a choice to walk a different path to destiny when Seiya holds out the hand of love to her.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this, they belong to the creators of ‘Sailor Moon’, nor am I making any profits from it.

I decided to make a small ‘what if?’ scenario – what if when Seiya confesses to Usagi towards the end of Sailor Stars she actually accepts him? I had at first intended this to be a sexual fic but it didn’t seem to want to turn out that way! I’ll have to try harder!

-oOo-

“Am I not good enough?”

Usagi gazed up into the dark eyes looking down upon her, eyes filled with warmth and love.

“Am I not good enough?” Seiya repeated the question, kneeling there before her as the rain fell down upon them both.

She was chilled to the bone now, her thin school uniform doing nothing to keep the dampness seeping through the cloth to her skin. She continued to gaze upon Seiya, seeing his hair become heavy, plastering to his brow, but his eyes remained warm.

Usagi felt her heart begin to respond to that warmth. She had felt so cold inside for so long now. Mamoru was gone and she had been left alone. She had lost him after everything they had been through, all that they had suffered to try and remain together. Perhaps now was not the time they were to be together. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps now was not their destined time.

But now, now as she knelt there in the rain looking at this young man before her, now she wondered if she was truly meant to be with Mamoru again. Perhaps their time had come and gone and should remain in the past. Or perhaps their time should only be once again in Crystal Tokyo in the 30th century and not here. For if it was to be their time, if now was truly meant to be for her and Mamoru, why then was this person with her now able to make her feel like this? How would they be able to warm her frozen heart just by their presence being so near?

From the moment she had met Seiya she had liked him. He’d been strange and funny and teased her. At first it had been like having Mamoru back in some ways. It had all reminded her of him so much and it had made her feel happy.

But then she had begun to notice something different. Yes, Seiya had made her feel like Mamoru had. Yes, she had begun to experience those same feelings when they were near, when he put his arm around her and held her close, when he gazed upon her with those eyes filled with caring. Yes, she had felt all of that with Mamoru also, but then she began to realize that she was becoming more and more aware of not how much alike Sieya and Mamoru were in how they made her feel, but the differences between them.

She realized that soon she was able to see that they were different, different people, different ways in behaving. Seiya wasn’t Mamoru at all, and she suddenly realized that she was no longer thinking of him as a replacement of Mamoru but only as a person in his own right.

That realization had shocked her and confused her greatly. She knew the feelings that she had for Mamoru were real. It was a love that had existed for many centuries, a bond between them. But there had been many times before when they had been separated and yet they still seemed to find their way back to each other. So was this just one of those times? Was it in this life that she was not supposed to be with Mamoru? Was that why Seiya had been sent here, for her to find happiness with him?

Still, although she had sometimes thought about these things, still his confession at this moment, in the pouring rain on the roof of the school caught her completely by surprise. She hadn’t realized that he might have had any feelings towards her. She knew how much he loved his own Princess, how hard he had fought to find her. She knew that he had a special someone too who filled his heart, how else would his song have been able to reach the Fireball Princess? It was that love he had for her that made that possible. So to hear him say this to her now was a surprise.

Seiya’s hands on her shoulders were holding her tightly. Not so tight that it could hurt her, but firm like he wasn’t going to let her go. She found that she liked that feeling, that feeling of being wanted, of being needed. That feeling of being safe with someone else. She knew that she should be stronger, but she also accepted that she wasn’t. She didn’t like being on her own. She wanted to be with people, be with the people she loved and cared about. She wanted to share her life and her time and her love with those people. And Seiya was one of those people.

Seiya’s fingers tightened further on her shoulders as he smiled softly down at her. “Come on,” he said gently, lifting her to her feet. “Let’s get you out of this rain.” He slipped out of his jacket and laid it gently around her shoulders. “Sorry it’s not very dry but it’ll keep the worst off you.” He apologized, slipping an arm around her shoulders and gently leading her towards the stairwell.

They walked in silence through the darkened corridors of the school, their footsteps loud in the silence. When they exited out the front doors Seiya lifted his jacket up, holding it over Usagi’s head like a tent to try and protect her head from the worst of the rain. She glanced up at him and he smiled down at her. “Can’t have the dumplings getting soggy, can we?” One corner of her mouth rose in a small half smile at his weak joke and they continued on.

Soon they reached Usagi’s house and Seiya accompanied her to the front door. She fumbled with her key, the cold rain having frozen her fingers. “Here. Let me,” Seiya took her keys and quickly opened the door, ushering her inside.

He flicked on the switch, illuminating the darkened hallway. “Isn’t anyone home?” he queried, listening to the silence of the house.

Usagi shook her head as she slipped out of her shoes, standing there with Seiya’s sodden jacket held in her hands, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast.

“Hey, Dumpling,”

She looked up to see Seiya had drawn close.

He smiled at her. “Go and get warm. I’ll stay until you’re okay.”

“I…I’m sorry,” she murmured turning her head away, hands clenching in the wet material they held.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Seiya said quietly, reaching out and taking the jacket from her hands. “Do you mind if I put my clothes in the dryer while I wait?” he asked.

“Uhm,” she thought about it then said, “Why don’t you….have a shower first?” she felt her face flushing and continued hurriedly. “They can dry while you are washing.”

He reached out and lightly touched her chilled cheek and she jumped a little at the sudden contact. He took his hand away quickly although it felt like the place he had touched was on fire. “You should shower first.” he said. “You’re frozen and you’re gonna catch a cold otherwise. I can wait.”

“Oh. Okay,” she said making her way towards the stairs. She paused and turned. “You can wait in my room. I’ll put the kotatsu on if you want.”

He grinned at her. “That would be good! How about some hot tea?”

“Oh, I’ll make you some…” she turned fully to make her way back down but he put his hand out to stop her.

“You go and get cleaned up,” he said. “I can find things in the kitchen.” He winked at her. “Don’t worry about me. Go on.” He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Don’t be too long.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

Usagi ran up the stairs to her room, reaching in and pulling out the small kotatsu. She quickly set it up around her table and turned it on. By the time she had finished that she found that she was shivering. Seiya was right. If she didn’t get out of these wet clothes she probably would become sick.

She slipped into the bathroom, taking her robe with her. As much as she would have liked to have had a bath she didn’t want to keep Seiya waiting. He was soaked through as well and she was worried about him, so she quickly had a shower.

The touch of the hot water on her chilled skin made her shiver at first at the contrast but then it felt so good as it chased away the coldness in her body. She closed her eyes and clasped both hands over her chest. The warmth she was feeling inside didn’t come from the shower but was the warmth that had begun from the look in Seiya’s eyes tonight. A soft smile curved her lips, a smile that was actually happy. That warmth made her feel good. It made her feel happy again.

She stepped out of the shower and quickly slipped into her robe, rubbing her long hair as best she could to try and dry it. She ran a comb through it, tugging at the snarls until it was smooth once more. She wasn’t too concerned that it wasn’t fully dry yet. She knew that it would most likely dry swiftly from sitting under the kotatsu.

She made her way back to her room, opening the door to be greeted by the wave of heat and the sweet aroma of oolong tea. Seiya was sitting at the table, legs tucked under the kotatsu already, one elbow propped on the table top, chin in the palm of his hand. She could hear the soft sound of her radio in the background and guessed that Seiya had turned it on.

“I see that you did find everything to make the tea all right,” she said, kneeling next to him.

He grinned at her. “Not a problem,” he winked at her. “I’m pretty good in the kitchen you know.”

She smiled at him, beginning to feel a little like her old self. “You’d better go and have a shower before the tea gets cold,” she said to him.

“Sure thing,” he replied standing and headed out. He stuck his head around the corner and grinned at her. “Don’t you fall asleep while I’m gone!” then closed the door behind him.

Usagi checked the teapot, noting that it had brewed nicely. Seiya obviously hadn’t completely exaggerated when he had said he was good in the kitchen. She could hear the faint sounds of the running water and imagined Seiya showering.

Her hand shook dangerously, making the teapot lid rattle as she flushed. Why had she thought that? She carefully set the pot down and raised both hands to cover her face, feeling the flesh burning hot. Why had she just thought that?!

“Hey, what are you doing?” A soft voice said as gentle hands clasped both of hers, drawing them away from her face. “You’re not crying again, are you?”

She looked up at Seiya, noting his hair was still damp with a few bits sticking up in a scruffy but delightful manner at the front. She hadn’t heard him come in. Then she noticed something else. All he was wearing was a short towel wrapped tightly around his waist. She could see the sheen of moisture over his torso, defining the well toned muscles across chest, abdomen and upper arms. All the dance training they did, not to mention the special training they had to do for their various TV action series kept him in peak condition. She felt her face flush furiously again and she turned her head quickly.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Seiya asked, obviously puzzled by her behaviour.

“Ah, you….” She stammered unable to even think of what to say. It wasn’t that she could say he wasn’t nice to look at! “You… aren’t….wearing anything!” she managed to blurt out.

He sat back on his heels and scratched at his head. “Yeah, sorry, but my clothes are getting dried, they were completely soaked through.” He shrugged. “I don’t have anything else to wear.”

“Uhm, well,” Usagi quickly scrambled to her feet and hurried over to her closet, reaching towards the far end and pulling something out. “You could wear this,” she said holding it out.

Seiya looked at it in horror. “You have got to be kidding?!” He pointed an accusing finger at the bright pink, frilled and beribboned robe with rabbits all over it. He looked up at Usagi with a pained expression. “You can’t really want me to wear that?” he pleaded. “Haven’t you got something more…manly?”

“Ah, not really,” she replied. She was finding it difficult to not look at Seiya where he sat on the floor, one knee raised as he leant on it. She flushed again becoming more and more aware of this man’s body with every passing moment.

“Okay,” Seiya finally said in a long suffering voice, giving a deep sigh. “Give it here.”

He held out his hand and Usagi gazed down at him, surprised. Was he really going to wear it?

He half grinned at her. “I can’t bear to see your face get any redder than it already is. I’m not here to try and embarrass you, so I’ll wear it if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

She smiled at him in gratitude as she held it out. With a last distasteful look and another sigh and eye roll he slipped into it. It only came to mid-thigh on him, and he wasn’t able to fully do it up as his shoulders were much broader than Usagi’s but it did cover a little more than what the towel had.

“That better?” he asked.

“Yes. Thank you.” she said, kneeling again beside him.

He grinned at her and ruffled her hair. “Just don’t you ever tell anyone that I did this!" he threatened, then slapped a hand to his forehead with a pained expression. “I would never live it down!”

She giggled. “I promise.”

“Good.” he smiled at her. “It’s nice to hear you laugh again.”

She met his smile with one of her own. “Thank you for making me do so,” she replied.

“Anytime, Dumpling. Now how about that tea?”

~End~

Sailor Moon: Sailor Stars Fic - The Warmth in My Soul

2007-08-08T10:12:22Z

This was a bit of a challenge to myself to see if I could write something for this fandom.

Sailor Stars seemed to be more ‘realistic’ in some ways in how relationships were dealt with, especially with Usagi having another man wanting to be with her so much to whom she was attracted as well. As much as the Usagi and Mamoru pair is lovely, it was nice to see the possibility that it might not be ‘happily ever after’ for them.

It was also a challenge to see if I could actually make this just a light romance piece and not too much angst! (Not sure if I quite managed that one. Oh, well *shrugs*)

Title: The Warmth in My Soul
Author: JadeHeart
Fandom: Sailor Moon: Sailor Stars (anime)
Pairing: Seiya/Usagi
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance

Summary: Usagi awakens feelings in Seiya that makes him realise that he had been missing something for a long time.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this, they belong to the creators of ‘Sailor Moon’, nor am I making any profits from it.

-oOo-

Could she have been?

The thought kept running through his mind, over and over again.

Could she have been? Could it really have been her?

He lifted his head, gazing at the blue sky above from behind his sunglasses, watching the soft white clouds flit across the expanse. The sun was warm on his face, touching his skin like a soft hand caressing his cheek. Warm, just like she had been in his arms.

He closed his eyes for moment, leaving his head tilted back, letting that warmth soak through his entire body. This warmth was nothing compared to the warmth from her; a warmth that seemed to penetrate to his very being and touch something that had seemed to have been frozen deep inside and was slowly beginning to thaw.

It had felt good when he had held her back in the club. That had been the closest they had been before; always they had to be careful to follow the proper protocols allowed by society, even more so because he was an idol and so often in the spotlight.

But when it had felt that danger was near, when he believed that she could come to harm, it had been completely instinctive to put his arm around her shoulders and draw her in close to him. He had felt her lean against his chest, her hand resting there almost directly over his heart.

He knew that the way his heartbeat had increased wasn’t due just to adrenaline. The feel of her small, slim body pressed tightly against his had felt so right and he hadn’t wanted to let her go. The wave of protectiveness that he had felt, the intense desire that he had felt to keep this person he held safe and let nothing harm her had surprised him. He had only ever felt that way about their Princess, there had never been another that had affected him in that way so why her? Why Usagi? .

He kept his eyes closed, listening to the rustle of the leaves of the trees as the breeze raced through the branches, the distant sounds of traffic. Yes, it was warm in the sun – but the metal post he was leaning against was cold against his back. Icy cold. Like that feeling that had flooded through him when Sailor Moon had picked up that small brooch and all the doubts had crashed down upon him.

He dropped his head so his chin almost touched his chest, his shoulders slumping as he was assaulted with those feelings again.

Could she have been? He wasn’t sure, not truly sure. He didn’t think he was wrong, yet at the same time he hoped that he was with all his might. He didn’t want Usagi to be Sailor Moon. Sailor Moon was still an unknown. They had fought together certainly and she seemed to want to do good but as Starlights they were only supposed to be concentrating on finding their Princess. This wasn’t their fight and if Sailor Moon and the other Sailor Senshi got in their way they would be forced to fight them as well. He didn’t want that. So he didn’t want Usagi to be Sailor Moon. He wanted her to just be herself; a simple girl at his high school.

Well, not simple, that was something Usagi had never been.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought of her. She was special, a special sort of person that he liked to be around. From that first moment he had passed her at the airport there had been something.

At first he had thought that it was just because she was a pretty girl. He had an eye for the girls, he didn’t deny that, and he had half thought that perhaps he had just noticed her because she was the only girl there that wasn’t screaming and carrying on at them as the Three Lights which was unusual in itself. But she had had only eyes for the man she had been holding, a man he hadn’t even taken any notice of at all, but the way her face had been turned to look up at that person, the glow in her eyes that showed the love she felt for that one, it had all been entirely captivating.

And the warmth – that feeling of warmth that had encompassed him as he had passed her, that had reached out and wrapped around him like an embrace. It had been enough to make him stop, enough to make him turn to look again, to watch her. That warmth had made his entire body tingle and react in a way that he had forgotten. After, he found he couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop wanting to have that feeling again.

It had been such a surprise when he had bumped into her again at the park, such a surprise to see her face which, yes, he did recognise – that hairdo was unusual enough – but what he recognized more was that feeling of warmth again. Being around her made him feel good and she was just so different from anyone else he had ever met. It had been a shock but in a way a relief that she hadn’t known who he was. It made him feel more ‘normal’ to be seen as just a person by her.

From then it had seemed that they were fated to meet. No matter what happened it seemed that she was always there, her and her friends. Suddenly he, Taiki and Yaten had friends – strange friends to be sure, and sometimes a little scary when Minako went into fangirl mode – but they were friends. Especially Usagi.

His smile grew broader thinking back on all the things that they had done together. Okay, he knew that he’d been trying to show off to her. How could he help it? She was the only person who hadn’t seemed to be in awe of them in any way. She was certainly the only person to argue with him about things and not seem to care! That was what he liked so much. He could act like a normal teenager and not be concerned about his position as either one of the Three Lights, or as a Starlight. Just for those moments he could simply be Kou Seiya, and it was nice to be seen as just a normal teenage boy and act accordingly. He found he liked that very much.

He lifted his head again and gazed around him. What a beautiful world this was. He watched the people passing by; a mother with a young child holding her hand and a balloon in the other, a couple sitting side by side on a bench with eyes only for each other, an old man sitting on another, sprinkling crumbs for a dozen pigeons at his feet. It was so beautiful and peaceful, just like his own home world had been once.

He squeezed his eyes shut in pain, trying to block out those memories. He wouldn’t dwell on that; it was all in the past. That was why they were here – to try and find their Princess and to be able to restore their world again. They could do it, he knew they could, if they could only find her.

A deep sigh slipped from his quivering lips. Where was she? Why was it taking so long? They had been trying so hard, singing and singing, sending out their message over and over again. They desperately wanted to find her, they were sure she was here somewhere – but where? And why wasn’t she coming to them?

His eyes stung with unshed tears. He wanted to find his Princess, to know that she was safe, that everything would be all right once more and they could begin again. He wanted his world to become as beautiful as this one was; a place where people could be happy and safe, where people could grow and love together.

A cloud blotted out the sun for a moment, casting a shadow over him and the sudden chill made him shiver, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets.

He hated it when the warmth disappeared. That is what it had felt like when their Princess had left – it was as though she took all the warmth and love and caring with her. He and the other Starlights had felt completely bereft, lost without her presence. That was why he had been so surprised to feel like that again that time at the airport. That sudden infusion of warmth that reached directly to the very core of his soul and touched every part of him. It had begun to change him then, he was sure of it. She was responsible for that.

The cloud raced away and the sun shone brightly once more and he took in a sharp breath as though he could suck in that warmth and hold it inside. It was due to Usagi that he was changing. Taiki and Yaten had noticed it, but even they were slowly changing also, he could see that.

Watching them, realizing the changes within himself, he began to realize that they had all been without something for so long. When had they forgotten how to truly laugh? When was the last time they had truly cared for something other than their mission? When was the last time they had embraced the warmth of love and friendship from another? It had been so long now, so long since they began their search, always pushing onwards, determined to win, determined to complete their mission and find their Princess. It was a worthy goal, and certainly one that he had no intention of giving up – ever. Yet…..

Didn’t they still have time to experience other things, to do other things, to meet other people? Shouldn’t there be more to their lives than just that? He remembered how once, long ago, they had shared laughter, they had shared love, they had shared it with their Princess. When had they forgotten how to do that?

And now, now he was remembering it all. Remembering it because Usagi had opened his eyes and shown him, offering that friendship to him with open hands and open heart. When he was with her she seemed to spread that warmth like wide wings that wrapped around him, drawing him in closer and holding him tightly. When she smiled he couldn’t help but smile back, when she hurt he couldn’t help but protect her, and when she cried, his own heart broke.

He heard the tap of shoes on the pavement and turned his head to see Usagi walking towards him. He watched as she walked slowly, long blond hair lifting lightly in the wind. He half smiled. Dumpling head, he thought in soft amusement. She was his dumpling head.

Then he noticed that she was looking down at something in her hand, her face sad, concerned. As she drew a little closer he could see that it was the small pink bear brooch that he had won and worn to tease her. His heart clenched as he saw again the image of Sailor Moon kneeling and picking it up, asking them if ‘Seiya’ was safe, worry in her voice as she clutched that small trinket.

He frowned again, was she really Sailor Moon or was it just a coincidence?

Usagi drew nearer still. Either way it didn’t matter. If they were one and the same, even as Sailor Moon she showed that same caring for him, and if they were not, he didn’t care. Usagi was enough for him.

“Dumpling,” he called out quietly and watched as she stopped and her head snapped up to look at him. He remained where he was and just gazed at her, seeing the flash of relief, the brightness increase in her eyes as she met his. She looks like she’s going to cry, he thought fondly. He wished he hadn’t made her worry.

But instead of tears falling she suddenly said, “Where were you? I was worried about you!”

He smiled and walked up to her. “Sorry,” he said softly, looking down at her.

“Sorry? Well, are you hurt?” She looked him up and down as though searching for injuries. How like her, he thought. Always concerned about others.

He shook his head. “No,”

She seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief. “That’s good.”

Looking down into her upturned face he felt his heart warm further. All he wanted to do was protect her and keep her safe. More importantly, he wanted to keep her by him. “I’ll give it to you,” he suddenly said.

“What?” she tilted her head to one side in confusion.

He nodded down at the small pink object she still held in her hand. What he wouldn’t give to be that toy, to be held so gently. “My gratitude for spending the day with me,” he explained a little lamely.

“Oh….” She gazed down at the toy and he saw her fingers close over it lightly and it felt like he was that tiny bear, cradled so carefully against that warm flesh. She looked up again. “Thank you.” she said in a soft voice.

They stood there silently as the sun dipped lower in the afternoon sky, beginning to change the light to a soft golden glow. He wished he had the courage to reach out and touch her, to feel that warmth once again and hold it close, to cherish it. The image of Sailor Moon overlaid Usagi’s face, the two melding for a moment and then gone but it was enough for his heart to catch. Was she…?

“What?” she asked, looking at him intently.

He started a little then shook his head slightly with a smile. “No, nothing.” he reassured her. No way, he thought. There was no way that she was really Sailor Moon.

He looked up at the sky. It’s not like he could actually ask her outright. No, he had to have been mistaken.

He smiled down at her again, a warm and heartfelt smile this time. “Come on,” he said, turning around. “I’ll walk you home.”

“Sure!” Usagi said, falling into step beside him. “Thank you for the gift!” She smiled up at him brightly, both hands clutching that tiny pink bear to her breast.

He gazed down at her fondly. “Just take care of it,” he said, not wanting to think it sounded like he was talking about his own heart.

“I will!” she said, skipping ahead a little before turning around swiftly and looking back at him. “I promise!”

He caught up with her, basking in that warmth that she directed towards him, through her smile, her eyes, her presence, her friendship and, he hoped, her love. His spirit reached out and took that warmth, drawing it within himself, hoarding it inside so whenever he closed he eyes and concentrated he could feel it, bath in it, and remember all the things that he had forgotten and all the things that he wanted for the future.

~End~