Disclaimer: Timeranger is not mine
Warnings: Aside from the yaoi (Domon/Sion), none.
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Domon had never thought of himself as the possessive type. It was impossible to be when growing in a family as big as his. Everything was shared, otherwise everyone would starve. Sure, he felt the familiar satisfaction each time he won a fight, but with that came the pure happiness in knowing that he was able to share another victory with his fans. He had seen his fair share of pro-fighters convinced that fans, along with everything else about the sport, existed solely for their benefit… and not surprisingly, their careers fizzled out after a few fights. He could be thick-headed at times, but the simple truth that greed would eventually do you in had gotten through loud and clear.
So why did he keep forgetting that when it came to Sion?
He couldn't help it. He couldn't fight back that thrill that went through him in knowing that he was the one who had discovered that one spot on his neck that made Sion almost literally melt against him, that it was his hands that ran over the smaller body, and the soft gasps and whispered cries were for his ears only. Afterwards, he'd try to remind himself why he shouldn't be thinking that way about anything ever, but then Sion would see him and smile at him-- the smile that was just for him-- and he'd slip right back.
Probably the only thing that kept from giving in completely to his greed was his guilt. It wasn't fair, what he was doing to him. Sion had spent almost all his life shut away from the world as the pet lab animal for scientists (and if Domon ever met them, he was going to make damn sure they paid for that). He knew Sion would never say it out loud, but there had to be at least a small part of him that was glad to be stuck in the twentieth century, if only so he didn't have to worry about lab guards re-capturing him for a while. No one with a heart could blame him if he did.
And here he was, wanting to keep him for himself. Just like those ghouls that kept watch over Sion since he was a baby.
But… Sion wasn't trying to get away. Hell, Sion had made the first move (three weeks ago today, he was having trouble sleeping and settled for watching whatever Sion had on the television that night instead, next thing he knew he was being kissed, too awkwardly to be considered romantic, but there was still something in it that made him give in) in their almost-but-not-quite love affair. It was Sion that seemed to always find some excuse to lean against him during their off-hours. It was Sion who nearly gave him a heart attack every time he grabbed him from behind without warning. And it was Sion's arms that were wrapped around him when he woke up in the middle of the night, being held so tightly he always opted for pretending to still be asleep until he nodded back off for real. The kid didn't need to sleep after all, so there had to be some sort of reason he wanted to be wedged between him and their creaky excuse for a couch. It took him awhile to realize what it was, mostly because it was honestly that hard to believe.
He possessive of Sion, but… Sion was just as possessive of him. Things balanced out. They balanced each other out.
Domon decided he could live with that.
