The Disclaimer: Oh please, do you really think I own anything? I just borrow them and manipulate them in a puppet like fashion. Somebody else owns them, makes all the money and can draw the nifty pics. Happy?
The point: What point? I had this idea for a while. I just really wanted to write a short piece with a specific last line…so here it is. By all means, R&R and tell me what you think be it good, bad or downright Flamey.
The Warning: Yaoi. Ya-oi. Got that? Citrus yaoi of the lime variety. Right so now that you know, you proceed at thy own risk. I take no responsibility for narrow minded idiots who read the stuff they're so opposed to even after they've been warned. Understand?
The Genre: Because ff.n doesn't really account for this I just wanted to say that this is mild angsty fluff.
The Dedication: To Werekitten. Well why not? And to all those who read and enjoyed The Rescue of Chibi Duo. You people make what I do worthwhile.
The morning sun was beginning to filter through the window of the room when my eyes opened, but that wasn't what woke me. It was you, shifting subtly at my side. Insinuating a leg more firmly between my own and wrapping your arms just a little tighter around me. I glanced at the clock, confirming that it was too early to get up and immediately squeezed my eyes shut. For now my life was a simple matter of doing nothing more than delighting in feeling of you pressed against me, creating a warm safe cocoon around my body. The only place in the world where I felt truly warm, safe, cherished and alive. Above all you made me feel really alive. I'm sure it might come as a shock to the others that I had been half submerged in cold and death and sinking fast before you opened your arms and all of yourself to me, but I had been.
You shifted again, the line of your chest pressing against my back and I thought about turning over, burying my face against that chest and breathing in the warm, maleness of you, as if I could draw all of you down into myself with a breath. I didn't though. I was too afraid that moving would disturb my comfort or worse yet that you would wake and remember that this was not your bed. That you were not supposed to be here. Once you remembered that, you would leave me to the cold creeping dawn light and a slowly cooling bed. I knew that sooner or later you would wake and sooner or later you would do just that but for now I did not have to give you up and I was loathe to cause your parting a second before I had to. Perhaps that was selfish of me, knowing that you liked to be gone before the others woke, before they could catch you semi-naked and flushed with guilt, creeping from my room.
How many times had you told me you weren't ready to play show and tell with the others? How many more times would I have to hear it? I wanted so badly to respect your wishes and to make you happy, but there is only so much a person can take. Only so long they can live with love that seems ashamed of itself. I often wondered what it said about me that you would speak of this to no-one, that the only time you said 'I love you' was in the darkness of the night in this room or yours. Whispered, instead of said proudly in the light. I'd lost count of the times I'd been forced to hold my tongue when all I wanted to do was scream out to anyone who would hear me that I was in love. In love with you. You had my heart, my soul, my body and my mind in your keeping and I could say nothing.
With a small sigh I pressed a feather light kiss on the inside of you wrist.
We always woke this way after making love. Our bodies hopelessly tangled together, impossibly intertwined, usually in the way we had fallen, gasping, slick with sweat, exhausted and trembling in the aftermath of mutual pleasure. I was still surprised our screams and cries had not already alerted the others to what we did, but the walls, it seems, are thick.
I knew when you were awake because your breathing changed. Then your hand moved, against the line of my jaw and then tracing my bottom lip with one finger. My lips parted and I took that one finger into my mouth and behind me you made a small sleepy sound like "mmm…" and you shifted, letting me know you were happy to be there. The swell of your desire pressed against my buttocks and I felt my own sex stirring in response.
"Good morning," you murmured into my ear, a moment before your tongue traced the lobe.
Now it was my turn to make small sounds or appreciation, releasing your finger. I shifted, rubbing myself against the hardness of your manhood, smiling when you gasped.
"You are temptation itself," you murmured, your lips moving to nuzzle at my neck.
Not tempting enough, I thought. I won't be able to tempt you to stay, or to tell the others, and maybe not even to finish what we were starting. After all Trowa was always the first and earliest to rise, getting up just a little after dawn, and you would never take the risk of getting caught. Were you really so ashamed of us, or was it just me? Was I the one who shamed you?
I turned, impatiently pushing the mass of my hair, freed from its braid by your eager fingers last night, to one side. You always told my how beautiful my hair was and one night with fistfuls of it clutched tightly in your hands, you'd made me swear to never cut it. I tucked myself neatly under your chin, pressing my lips against the base of your throat. Your hands, seemingly of their own will, began stroking my hair. Your lips brushed the top of my head and you murmured.
Ashitaru. You taught me that word. It means "I love you". The most treasured thing you ever gave me was that single word. I haven't been in your arms long but I know that word, spoken in desire, in rapture, in despair and once even in anger. It always made me go weak.
I lifted my head, offering my mouth to you and you pressed your lips to mine. You're kiss was dominant and possessive, one leg sliding over my hip to hold me in place. A subtle shift of your hips caused your manhood to rub against mine and I shuddered, moaning into you mouth. You swallowed that moan before your tongue darted inside my mouth and we tasted each other. You're hand slid against the length of my back, cupping my buttocks and squeezing gently.
Before you slid away from me. You broke the kiss and rolled to the edge of the bed, swinging your legs over the side and sitting up. My eyes half closed and I watched the line of your back through a hooded gaze. Watched the muscles bunch as you stood and I wanted to grab you round the waist and drag you back to me but you would never let me. The Perfect Solider is always in control.
You moved around the room silently, gathering your clothes from the night before, and if I hadn't been watching you getting ready to leave me I would have laughed when you retrieved your pants from the lampshade. I couldn't even remember getting them off. You could do that to me, make me forget myself, take away my control and somehow always keep yours. Knowing you loved me made me a thousand and one things. Strong, fearless, confident and at the very same time weak, afraid and unsure. Love was all that and more.
I watched you dress, silently. While you pulled on your clothes your cobalt eyes were fixed on mine and I shivered, begging you with my eyes to stay. To crawl back in the bed and finish what we had already begun. I was aching for you and I always would. A hundred years of nights and days with you would never satisfy what I felt.
Dressed now, you came to the bed and I rolled on to my back, the covers sliding down to cling dangerously to my hips. You smiled, heat flaring in your eyes but all you did was lean forward, brush my hair back and plant a chaste kiss on my forehead.
"Ashitaru," you whispered again. "Will I come to you tonight?"
Mutely I nodded my assent and you smiled. Then you turned and you were gone. Striding out of the room and taking all of me with you and I wasn't even sure if you knew it.
I always feel it when you leave.