*deep breath* This is set in the timeline of Azalyn's wonderful Yami fic Dark Soul. Unfortunately, she's not typing it out because she's too shy and the thing is in Chinese, no less. *_* And she won't let me translate it, which is just as well because my Chinese sucks. But she _did_ let me write this weird little offshoot. It's not necessary to read DS to understand this, but the epilogue paragraph is right after Tsuzuki wakes up from previously being hit by a demon's spell that would have killed him, only Watari got the counter-spell done just in time.
Filtered
a yami no matsuei fanfiction
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begin: look
[need you to see this like i need you do you see it too?]
This person rarely came to stay without a specific purpose or reason but a mere wish to keep him company. He treasured these times.
Standing by the window, his wheat-gold hair blew softly in a light breeze. The moon's rays lit his skin and were reflected in twin seas of endless green.
Fragile.
Beauty.He wanted to reach out, to take and possess this loveliness that was *him*, and yet he was scared, scared that he might pull this frail creature too deep within his darkness and break it like a glass-winged butterfly. Afraid.
He didn't deserve him.
touch
[your fire sears me even as i burn you]
"What are you thinking about?" Long arms slipped around his waist, pulling the smaller boy close to him. "You look like you want to shoot somebody."
A snort. "The only thing I feel like shooting is you. Get lost."
"Do I have to remind you whose house you're in?" he pouted.
"Hn. If you're not happy I can always go home now."
"But you don't *want* to." He breathed gently on the back of his neck, nuzzled the fine hairs at the base of his head and felt the slender frame in his arms tense up a fraction. "And I won't let you leave, either."
"You and who else?" he tried to growl, but his voice caught in his throat as he felt a warm hand make its way into his shirt. The other hand had sneaked further down and was unbuckling his belt.
"No one but yourself, Hisoka-*kun*." The hand on his waist tossed the belt to the floor.
"Tsuzuki"
"No," he murmured, turning the slim frame in his embrace and kissing him fiercely, hungrily, devouring the sweet mouth and hearing the other's muffled whimper with satisfaction. "Don't say anything."
He wanted him so badly it hurt.
It didn't matter if he sullied this purity, left the stain of his blackness upon his soul. Better this way, better to clip his wings so he could never fly away, this angel. His angel. Better he fall from grace, so he would have to stay by his side, so he could possess him eternally.
Wasn't love selfish?
invade
[capture. fracture. bind. unwind. break. break. break.]
Stray drops of white fluid were spattered over the taut flesh of his partner's stomach; he dipped his head and licked them off, tongue lingering on the soft white skin to taste the mingled flavours of sweat and sex. Hisoka shivered, muscles stiffening in response, and he smirked, propping himself up on his arms to relish the sight of his ivory angel sprawled in full glory against the snowy bedsheets, wrists bound and emerald eyes dark with arousal. Intoxicating. He felt his blood heat up again, reached down to the hidden place between Hisoka's legs and slowly stroked him there as he moaned.
Beautiful.
"Tsu no"
Ignoring this, he continued the flow of teasingly light caresses until Hisoka hardened under his touch; then he moved his fingers in longer strokes, binding fast his prey in chains of pleasure until he sobbed, finally breaking down and pleading with him to grant the release it craved.
He kissed the slender pale throat, nipping at the joining of neck and shoulder, positioned himself at Hisoka's opening and thrust in, hearing his partner's pained wail. But the discomfort was only temporary; he pulsed within the tight warmth of his angel in deep and steady movements, and very soon he was being carried on the torrent of sweet ecstasy, and he rose higher and higher, until his angel's own shackles cracked and their cries of fulfilment echoed in each other's ears.
So beautiful.
close
[wrap these scars in your healing glow]
"You're not yourself tonight."
He glanced at the elfin face on the pillow next to his, soft gold hair falling over delicately chiselled features. "How so?"
Tired green eyes looked straight into his own. "I know your heart."
He turned away. "That wasn't what I asked."
"*You* know the answer to that better than *I* do!" Two slim hands grabbed his collar, dragged him so their faces were almost touching. Dull jade orbs had snapped into chips of emerald fire that caught and held his gaze. "Tsuzuki," his eyes softened a little, "I'm not a kid. I'm your *partner*. If you still can't get that into your head, I will throw you down a well. You can't hide yourself from me."
"I -"
"Nobody's perfect," Hisoka quietly interrupted. "You're not. Neither am I. But everything I have is yours to take. I want to share all of you. Not just your light, but also your dark. You don't ever have to feel guilty about that."
He made no reply, only pulling his angel close and holding him tightly for the rest of the night as the shadows in his soul slowly, gradually faded to nothingness.
epilogue: wake
[glance to your heaven and i drown in perfumed ecstasy]
He was hot. So hot. Yet it was strange how waves of cold bit through in the midst of the heat consuming him, making him shiver and gasp. He could feel rivulets of perspiration trickling down his body and he hated it, he was damp all over and his clothes were sticking clammily to his skin.
Feeling was slowly returning to his limbs. Had he fallen asleep? He tried to open his eyes, to get rid of the darkness that seemed to be trying to suck him into its murky heart, and failed. His eyes were glued together by a congealed mixture of sweat and grit and other things he didn't want to know. With some effort he pulled up a hand and rubbed it over his eyelids, and this time managed to prise them up a fraction.
Someone was calling his name, as if from far away. A boy's voice, hoarse and frantic. Sweetly familiar. He wrenched his eyes fully open, and blinked painfully at the mass of blinding light that invaded them. Slowly the glare faded, and a face swam into focus. Ivory skin and golden hair; eyes that reminded him of burnished emeralds. They were so large he would have happily drowned in them, sunk into those verdant depths without coming up again.
Emerald eyes closed for a heartbeat; in the next instant the boy had stepped forward and flung his arms around his neck. Silken hair brushed against his face, and he smelled the faint scent of vanilla and herbs.
"Idiot," his partner said shakily, his voice wracked with some indefinable emotion. "*Idiot*."
"I'm sorry," he whispered weakly, brushing his fingers down the beloved face. It was all he could say.
Outside, the birds were singing.
-- owari --