Chapter 1
Vague Recollections
Violet eyes flashed with a sweet, one-of-a-kind joy that only a certain American could possess. A soft pink tongue danced across his lips, whetting them nervously before he spoke again.
"Come on, Wuffers!" he pleaded, eyes childish and excited.
"You want me to bless a pen?" Wufei asked incredulously, a bit blown away by the out of the blue request. The boy nodded, looking up to him from where he had paused in assembling the kitchen cupboards of the house they were building. Then he hesitated another moment, as if thinking, then shook his head, denying Wufei's question. Another moment, and he nodded again, then shrugged, showing the indecisive nature that epitomized this enchanting nymph.
"Kind of a pen," the boy explained. "More like a permanent marker."
"Why me? Aren't you the priest?" Wufei asked, reaching down to tug the white collar of the holy man's outfit. The boy grinned up to him as Wufei kneeled down beside him, studying him closely.
"You're the last of your clan left alive, right?" the American asked, lowering down the wrench he held and shifting to more clearly look at the Chinese man. Wufei nodded, then followed it with a "Hai,"—a trademark phrase he had received from their Japanese lover. "Well," the American continued, his gaze turning hopeful. "There's an enchantment I once read, and it says 'Be it blessed by the orphaned kin, then ne'er shall it be one forgotten,' or something that rhymes like that. You know how those spells go…always rhyming like it was written by Shakespeare on crack." Wufei quirked a brow. He could tell be the incessant rambling that the boy was nervous. "What it means is that, a person who's the last of his clan—like you, my most precious dragon—has all the power and energy of those who he survived, and if you use those powers to bless something, then whatever markings it makes can never go away or be truly covered up." Wufei's brows wrinkled.
"Since when have you been into magic?" he asked, but immediately regretted it. The American gave a barely visible wince, looking down.
"Please, Wufei?" he pleaded, voice hushed and sincere. Wufei was tempted to deny the request, but when those deep, amethyst orbs gazed up and his lower lip slightly pouted out, he knew he couldn't say no. Snagging the pen—or, permanent marker, per se— from his lover's hand, he sat down fully in front of him and gave him a droll stare.
"Fine," he growled. "What do I do?" The boy looked up, and suddenly he could see the true, sincere joy spilling from every pore. He placed his hands over Wufei's, long fingers curling around the oriental's darker digits. The touch was hot, electric, as if lit by something more than natural body heat. Like a blaze of energy was boiling the blood of the long-haired pilot, causing Wufei to shiver. The power behind that touch was surreal, and took all play out of the moment.
"Just promise me, Wufei, that you'll never forget me." The boys agonized whisper took him aback. Wufei was stunned. Forget him? How could he ever forget the boy who made him and Heero's blood boil with passion? Who was the humor to their complexity? The light their dark? The person who had taught them both that there was more to life than vengeance and being perfect?
"I'll never forget you, love," he murmured, lifting the hands to kiss adoringly across his knuckles.
"You'd be amazed what you forget," the American replied, voice constricting painfully. Wufei wondered at those words, but before he could ask, the American continued. "Now, just repeat after me." Wufei did as he was told.
"With this power I bestow
To never let this curse take hold—
Whatever here is written down
Will last beyond all time and bounds."
Wufei said each phrase with the same passion of the boy, and was surprised and almost spooked when his hands began to tingle in a way that reminded him of running his palm over a TV screen that had just been turned off. He could almost believe that there really was something to this spell.
Upon completion, they held onto each other for a few, long moments, until the tingling seemed to subside. Amaryllis orbs gazed with a devoted love into Wufei's onyx ones, and all resolve and annoyance melted from the normally stoic, black haired male. Warmth blossomed in his heart as he saw a smile form on the precious face of his beloved, and the two met halfway for a chaste, but soul deep kiss, nuzzling their lips and noses together. Only this boy could ever bring out this gentle, loving side of him…
Slowly, the long-hared American pulled away, lacing their grip together with one hand and taking the marker into the other.
"Hold my hand while I do this?" he requested.
Wufei nodded.
He could never tell him no.
The boy leaned back into the floor level cupboard, angling himself so he could write on the top. Wufei leaned forward to watch, more interested in the body beneath him than the words being written. Resting his head on the slender stomach, he let himself relax, cherishing this sacred moment as if it were their last.
"Why there?" he murmured, lips grazing the soft underside of the American's chin, watching as the boy drew out a big, thick lined heart.
"So no one can ever paint over it," he replied, giving him a sweet smile. Wufei was satisfied with the answer, and watched with a lazy intensity as the boy began to write. Heero's named slowly appeared in the delicate, slow, loopy script, each arch and twirl drawn with the most precise and loving of strokes. It was followed by Wufei's, the almost calligraphic style writing making the English version of his name appear beautiful. He was almost satisfied with it, until he noticed the mischievous glint in the American's eyes, as moved to "dot" the eye with a heart. A hint of a ruffled sneer lifted the edges of the dragon's lips as he huffed his disdain.
"Couldn't you just make a dot?" Wufei demanded, although he didn't really feel insulted. He picked and prodded more out of familiarity and habit, falling easily into the routine he had come to love so well.
"I'm sorry, baby, but you'll have to put with the effeminate injustice. Besides, I think it looks pretty," the boy stated in a tone that let him know there was no two ways about it. But he stopped caring when the American leaned forward and planted an adoring kiss on his forehead. Love swelled up in Wufei's heart, and he turned his head to playfully nip at his chest. Mind trailing off to other things he'd like to nip, he shifted himself to plant the side of his hips directly between the black clad legs of the other, rubbing against his groin. Violet eyes looked down to him with a devious glint. "Just let me finish," the American whispered huskily, and Wufei nodded, gaze turning back up to watch as the pen began to write once more.
And that's when it hit. Anxiety blossomed in the lower pit of Wufei's stomach, causing him to shift uneasily. The same feeling he had the day that Meiran died. Clenching his fist over the twisting knots forming, he lightly chewed his lower lip and tried to banish the growing sensation that something was deathly wrong. He clung tighter to his lover, looking up to him for support, but he could see that the boy felt it as well. Determination was in the violet orbs, mixed with a hint of pain, as if he was struggling to complete an arduous task.
"Love?" Wufei asked nervously, but he got no reply. The body was now shaking, and Wufei turned his gaze to see the pen jerking back and forth as it wrote out a name, the black ink seeming to sink into the wood above him and lose all semblances of letters. Dread trickled down his spine, causing cold panic to dance over each vertebrate and threaten to make him sick. Reaching up to grab for his lover's hand, he wound up instead getting a hold of the pen. The fingers tightened around it went slack, the face of the boy pale and sickly as pressed up into Wufei tightly.
"Don't forget me!" he begged, before pulling back. Their grip on each other went away as the boy removed his hold from his, and as soon as it was gone, the body seemed to dissolve beneath him, right before his very eyes. Horrified at the situation, having no clue what to make of it or what was going on, he pulled back fast to try to escape the tight confines and get some air. His head hit hard on the top of the cabinet as he jumped out, causing dizziness to rush through him. The marker dropped, and it too seemed to fade away.
Sitting hard on his tailbone, he gave himself a moment to catch his breath. The wrench sat in front of the open cabinet drawer, and the little white priest's collar lay beside it, but no other sign of the presence was left. Shaking his head, he opened his mouth to call out, to try to find his lover to calm the growing terror that filled him beyond all reason. But to his chagrin, nothing came out. His mouth opened wider, grabbing once more at his stomach and wondering why he couldn't formulate the name of the boy who made his life bearable to exist, and that's when it hit him.
…for the life of him, Wufei couldn't recall his lover's name….
There's chapter one! I have a lot of it written out, so it's just a matter of transferring it onto the computer during my free time!
This is going to be a twisted story, and was inspired in part by Sherrilyn Kenyon's "Dark-Hunter" novels.
And no, this isn't a cross-over, don't worry! .
Please read and review, and I promise I'll post more!
