Attraction to Addiction
Author: Xanthos Samurai
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Shounen-ai, slash, yaoi, whatever you wanna call it – this features two men in a homosexual relationship. Also contains drug references and some language
Disclaimer: Wolf's Rain rightfully belongs to the wonderful and talented people who thought it up – I don't deserve any part in any of that. ;;
Feedback: Please!
Notes: This fic does feature Tsume and Toboe, one of my favorite couples in Wolf's Rain, although NOT my absolute favorite one. It is also set after the ending of the series, but there aren't any real spoilers... the ending is strange that way. Just one of the ways I pictured the two of them being after it all.
Even before he had opened the door, Toboe knew he shouldn't have done it. He should never have given in to Tsume's request, not this time. But how many times had he said that to himself as he brought back exactly what Tsume had asked him to get? Too many. The dirty paper sack in his hand felt damp as a result of his sweaty palm and the top was twisted and crinkled from being clutched.
"Who is that?" Called Tsume's rough voice from the living room of the small apartment.
Toboe closed the door behind him and made extra sure that he properly re-fastened all the locks and bolts exactly as Tsume had taught him. For some reason, the older man seemed to be paranoid about thieves and was constantly telling Toboe about the importance of keeping the doors locked. Toboe had his own thoughts about the matter and suspected that Tsume's insistence didn't stem so much from the desire to keep intruders out so much as to hide his own activities.
"It's just me, Tsume." He answered.
"Then hurry up and get over here."
Tsume sounded cranky, but then again, did he ever really sound any other way? But it was worse lately, Toboe allowed himself to admit that, at the very least. He knew it was the drugs. It was his fault, too. He was killing Tsume bit by bit, syringe by syringe, every time he brought it home.
He carried the paper bag into the living room, inappropriately named since more dying than living happened in there. Tsume was lying sprawled on an old mattress that had been shoved up against one of the walls in place of a couch. His black pants were extremely low slung at the hips and his bare shoulders were propped up against the old whitewashed walls so that he looked as if he had been carelessly tossed there. The older man's dark skin had an ashen tint to it, the result of poor nutrition and living on nothing but drugs and booze. He was thin, almost emaciated and had the look of someone who had once had a beautiful physique and then lost it very quickly.
"Didja get my stuff?" Asked the white-haired man. He eyed Toboe with suspicious eyes. Toboe remembered when they had been gold instead of a colorless, murky brown.
"Of couse I did, Tsume. But this is the last time... It's bad for you and you have to stop after this!"
"Whatever. Just give it to me." He held out his hand, demanding.
Toboe's face fell, but he gave him the bag. Tsume snatched it and began to pull out the contents greedily. The younger man turned his face away as Tsume tied a band around his upper arm and filled up the syringe. He couldn't watch... he could never watch. But he could hear Tsume sigh and then let out a soft groan, as he always did when the drug flowed through his bloodstream. Toboe thought he felt a clean breeze blow through the dilapidated room in the middle of the decaying city. Tsume's eyes began to glaze and his hand twitched, much like a sleeping dog's. A smile curved one side of the cracked-lipped mouth, smiling at nothing, or nothing that anyone else could see. Toboe thought he smelled a field... and flowers... and trees and maybe freshly fallen snow. He moved closer, nearly sitting in Tsume's lap, just trying to get closer to the scent. For once, Tsume didn't appear to mind, but he was far away, running... running... running... And Toboe felt like he was running too, the closer that he got to Tsume...
"Why?" Whispered Toboe. "Why is it only like this... when you're...? Why can't I love you when you're not killing yourself? Why do I only feel paradise when you're in a false one...?"
Tsume didn't answer. He was too far away in another lifetime.
Fin
This is very short for me, but sometimes short is good... Please note that I've been writing this over the course of a few weeks generally late at night, so this is NOT my best writing. ;; My beta tells me it's clichéd... what do y'all think? Comments and criticisms are all welcome and appreciated!