Nash And Guile: You always hurt the one you love
Part I ~ 'The man would be a marvel is not for his brains'
-Jewel
By: Eternal_Ukyou
Warning: Yaoi, so don't bother flaming me about it cuze I just don't care.
For the uninformed:
Japanese - English
Nash Charlie
Julia Jane (Guile's wife)
Kris Amy (Guile's Daughter)
Guile's full name: William F. Guile (He dose go by Will in this story)
Doki is the sound your heart makes when you're in love, in Japanese slag, but has seemed to carry over all right.
Note: This story is a bit funny in its origin. It started as an original story but I wanted to call the boy Charlie, but of course when I hear Charlie, I automatically think Nash. So I called my friend and he was like 'Oh, you should make it Nash and Guile.' So I did. Now your gunna ask me why little Guile is so ooc (out of character) in the beginning, well as the story goes on you'll see him be transformed from bishonen pansy boy to hard ass, totally straight, woman fucking Guile we love so much! This story contains no sex, not even any kissing or anything. Totally clean so please enjoy. Nash dose some homo dissing so if you totally touchy about that, I'm sorry! Other wise read and review. You can flame as long as it ain't about the yaoi cuze there is yaoi!!! So there!!
~~
Sun, cold and dry, through ice coated winds, onto my sterile white bed. Across the room sits an empty high back chair made of red upholstery that is badly frayed at the arms. No one has ever sat in that chair for as long as I have known of its existence. No one wants to see me. So I lay back and wait.
Back when I was three years old I met Nash. Since then we have been the very best of friends. We did everything together, we where always in the same classes. Playing the same sports, having crushes on the same girls, getting the same toy guns and walkie-talkies for Christmas, and always had matching army man or ninja costume for Halloween. People mistook us for bothers and maybe on some deeper level we where. We where of the same mold, the same kind of monster, kin in a way.
Nash and I where meant to share out lives with one another. That why he was strong and I was wear, why I was beautiful and he was tough, why I was bright and he was street smart. I worshiped him, and he was the perfect god.
During the summer we turned 12, my father sent me military school. So did Nash's father. It was too perfect. It just proved how inseparable we where, how this partnership was destiny.
We got the same dorm, the same classes, and the same section.
He looked wonderful in his uniform, looked a bit lopsided on me.
But it didn't much matter. I crawled through the mud, dragged through lectures, and hung the uniform right next to Nash's, always.
Sometimes late at night we'd sit on my bed, the heavy quilt pulled over our heads. In the muggy air we'd sit with a little flashlight and eat brownies his mother sent and talk. Sometimes we'd talk about school, sometimes about our families, sometimes about when 'we grew up'. Nash once confessed to me he wanted to have a family in a big house just like this dad. At the time we laughed and he made me promise we'd get our first apartment together and go pick up chicks.
Of course we would. He would always be the first to do anything with. He'd be the best man at my wedding, the first to know when I was going to be a father, and first to get my stuff when I died.
Although, at the time I remember thinking that I didn't want to look at girls, I only wanted Nash to be in my life. Just like he always had been. My brother, my friend, forever.
But nothing lasts forever.
Soon summer came and we got to go home. But we wouldn't have this summer to ourselves. Nash went to Europe with his parents for vacation. And I was left alone.
I tried to do all the things we would have done together, I tried to play with the other kids, but they don't care much for my long hair and pretty eyes. So, I would go to the bridge where Nash and I used to fish, and alone I would stand with my little stick rod and sitting on the railing thinking about Nash.
I missed him. He was half of me. Without him I was just another little blonde boy.
But not for long.
A wise man once said absence makes the heart grow fonder, he could say no less the truth. I waited, everyday marking off the days on my Military War Planes calendar. But somewhere in those little red X's I found something. Something I never expected to find, my shining star of hope.
Nash would be home in only a week and then we'd be back at school. By then, I knew I could fully uncover this treasure I had found among my summer of solitude.
The last three days of our separation where the worst. Every day I spent sitting on Nash's doorstep, thinking, assuring myself what I had found, what I felt, was the real thing. I never asked myself if it was right, maybe I should have, but I didn't. And still I wasn't completely, totally sure when I saw the taxi pull up in front of the house and he stepped out. He walked around the car, and opened the door for his mother. He seemed so much taller.
"Will!" His lips curled in a grin and he began to run toward me. How funny we must have looked. Nearly young adults, barely tripping over puberty, we embraced and I held on tightly. Longer than I should have. But just then I didn't care, my heart was pounding in my chest, I stood and inhaled his scent deeply, it felt like years since I had seen him.
"Welcome home." I muttered softly into his ear.
"Will... Will, when are you gunna let me go?"
I instantly release him, laughing uneasily; I blushed. And from the corner of my eye I saw a strange, unhappy look grace his fathers 'face.
"Come on boys." He said with an intrusive cleaning of his throat.
"Oh yea!" Nash exclaimed, "I bought you a gift. Will, come in with us you will love it!" He took my hand, and for the first time I felt the wonder and pure joy in that motion. Something like a tingle run up my arm and I was happy because I knew.... Everything.
Hand in hand, like little boys we run up the walk and through the open door, and into his bedroom.
Much like mine it was decorated like a war history museum. Not so much because we adored airplanes or tanks, but because our fathers did. It seemed we both met the same fate of living another's dream.
I sat down on his bed and waited as he went to drag in this oversized, designer suitcase. He flopped it down on the floor and after a moment of searching he came up with a small package.
"For you!" He said simply, holding it out on open palms.
I took it, and for a moment and nearly convinced myself this was his way of saying he felt like I did.
But no, I knew better.
Inside the box wrapped inside plain paper, was an all metal comb, my name 'William T. Guile' and the date clumsily etched in it.
"I couldn't afford to have you name put on it so I did it myself." Nash's grin was somewhere between embarrassment and glowing pride.
I never left home with out that comb again. Ever.
Nash and I went back to school that very week. And the days rolled by, summer to fall. I found my infatuation harder to hide. I was sure now, sure that I loved him.
Again a summer, a fall, a winter. We where only 15 then, young men, enjoying the Winter Celebration's after hour activities in the court yards and class room. Nash and I where standing under a maple tree, bare and stained golden by the lights of the hall, in which the only dance of the year was held. The girls of the near by Sacred Heart Catholic Academy came to visit us and share their virtues. I leaned against the tree as we made idle talk.
"Nash..." I said, my tone a bit heavy. He stopped and looked.
"Yea, what is it Will, somethin' wrong?"
"I ah...I got something to tell you." I stepped closer to him.
"Yea?"
I closed my eyes and felt my heart start to slam in my chest. But no I wasn't scared; I was excited. So overjoyed to be ready to say it. I felt so strong at that moment, as if I was in control of my own destiny.
"I-I love you Nash..." I looked up; he was stunned. His mouth came open, his beautiful eyes got as big as dinner plates.
"Come again...?" He whispered blankly.
My stomache dropped out as I opened my mouth to speak.
"No-no Will. Your not... Take that back."
"But I..."
"Take I back Will!" There was a fire in his words now, a fire my tears could never put out, not now. "Your not a fag! I should know! We grew up together your my- you where my best friend and my fucking best friend isn't a fag!"
But his best friend, his old best friend, his brother, his kin in a way, was gay.
He was screaming, and he moved toward me, I back up. I could feel the anger, his aura almost visible in the pale night. I never thought of this out come. Never understand why. But that happened next I couldn't explain.
Nash moved, something hit my chest. He moved again and again I felt the pain.
My God, that was Nash. He was hitting me. Harder that time and harder still. Tears came to my eyes as repeatedly his strong arms drove steel hard punches into my body. As if beating me would make my love for him just go away.
If only it where so simple.
I loved him then. I loved him as I bled for him, as I cried for him. I loved him as a crowd gathered, as he screamed to them I was a queer and they laughed. I loved him as they carried me to the hospital wing. I watched his breakdown and cry, and yes, I loved him then too.
I sat there in bed, eyes transfixed on the plain white walls the next evening, waiting. For what, I didn't know. Answers maybe. Perhaps a little hint to hit me in the head. But no, it never came to.
But when the sun set that night I knew one thing. When I woke up, I would never love Nash again.
~End part I~
To be continued...
Part I ~ 'The man would be a marvel is not for his brains'
-Jewel
By: Eternal_Ukyou
Warning: Yaoi, so don't bother flaming me about it cuze I just don't care.
For the uninformed:
Japanese - English
Nash Charlie
Julia Jane (Guile's wife)
Kris Amy (Guile's Daughter)
Guile's full name: William F. Guile (He dose go by Will in this story)
Doki is the sound your heart makes when you're in love, in Japanese slag, but has seemed to carry over all right.
Note: This story is a bit funny in its origin. It started as an original story but I wanted to call the boy Charlie, but of course when I hear Charlie, I automatically think Nash. So I called my friend and he was like 'Oh, you should make it Nash and Guile.' So I did. Now your gunna ask me why little Guile is so ooc (out of character) in the beginning, well as the story goes on you'll see him be transformed from bishonen pansy boy to hard ass, totally straight, woman fucking Guile we love so much! This story contains no sex, not even any kissing or anything. Totally clean so please enjoy. Nash dose some homo dissing so if you totally touchy about that, I'm sorry! Other wise read and review. You can flame as long as it ain't about the yaoi cuze there is yaoi!!! So there!!
~~
Sun, cold and dry, through ice coated winds, onto my sterile white bed. Across the room sits an empty high back chair made of red upholstery that is badly frayed at the arms. No one has ever sat in that chair for as long as I have known of its existence. No one wants to see me. So I lay back and wait.
Back when I was three years old I met Nash. Since then we have been the very best of friends. We did everything together, we where always in the same classes. Playing the same sports, having crushes on the same girls, getting the same toy guns and walkie-talkies for Christmas, and always had matching army man or ninja costume for Halloween. People mistook us for bothers and maybe on some deeper level we where. We where of the same mold, the same kind of monster, kin in a way.
Nash and I where meant to share out lives with one another. That why he was strong and I was wear, why I was beautiful and he was tough, why I was bright and he was street smart. I worshiped him, and he was the perfect god.
During the summer we turned 12, my father sent me military school. So did Nash's father. It was too perfect. It just proved how inseparable we where, how this partnership was destiny.
We got the same dorm, the same classes, and the same section.
He looked wonderful in his uniform, looked a bit lopsided on me.
But it didn't much matter. I crawled through the mud, dragged through lectures, and hung the uniform right next to Nash's, always.
Sometimes late at night we'd sit on my bed, the heavy quilt pulled over our heads. In the muggy air we'd sit with a little flashlight and eat brownies his mother sent and talk. Sometimes we'd talk about school, sometimes about our families, sometimes about when 'we grew up'. Nash once confessed to me he wanted to have a family in a big house just like this dad. At the time we laughed and he made me promise we'd get our first apartment together and go pick up chicks.
Of course we would. He would always be the first to do anything with. He'd be the best man at my wedding, the first to know when I was going to be a father, and first to get my stuff when I died.
Although, at the time I remember thinking that I didn't want to look at girls, I only wanted Nash to be in my life. Just like he always had been. My brother, my friend, forever.
But nothing lasts forever.
Soon summer came and we got to go home. But we wouldn't have this summer to ourselves. Nash went to Europe with his parents for vacation. And I was left alone.
I tried to do all the things we would have done together, I tried to play with the other kids, but they don't care much for my long hair and pretty eyes. So, I would go to the bridge where Nash and I used to fish, and alone I would stand with my little stick rod and sitting on the railing thinking about Nash.
I missed him. He was half of me. Without him I was just another little blonde boy.
But not for long.
A wise man once said absence makes the heart grow fonder, he could say no less the truth. I waited, everyday marking off the days on my Military War Planes calendar. But somewhere in those little red X's I found something. Something I never expected to find, my shining star of hope.
Nash would be home in only a week and then we'd be back at school. By then, I knew I could fully uncover this treasure I had found among my summer of solitude.
The last three days of our separation where the worst. Every day I spent sitting on Nash's doorstep, thinking, assuring myself what I had found, what I felt, was the real thing. I never asked myself if it was right, maybe I should have, but I didn't. And still I wasn't completely, totally sure when I saw the taxi pull up in front of the house and he stepped out. He walked around the car, and opened the door for his mother. He seemed so much taller.
"Will!" His lips curled in a grin and he began to run toward me. How funny we must have looked. Nearly young adults, barely tripping over puberty, we embraced and I held on tightly. Longer than I should have. But just then I didn't care, my heart was pounding in my chest, I stood and inhaled his scent deeply, it felt like years since I had seen him.
"Welcome home." I muttered softly into his ear.
"Will... Will, when are you gunna let me go?"
I instantly release him, laughing uneasily; I blushed. And from the corner of my eye I saw a strange, unhappy look grace his fathers 'face.
"Come on boys." He said with an intrusive cleaning of his throat.
"Oh yea!" Nash exclaimed, "I bought you a gift. Will, come in with us you will love it!" He took my hand, and for the first time I felt the wonder and pure joy in that motion. Something like a tingle run up my arm and I was happy because I knew.... Everything.
Hand in hand, like little boys we run up the walk and through the open door, and into his bedroom.
Much like mine it was decorated like a war history museum. Not so much because we adored airplanes or tanks, but because our fathers did. It seemed we both met the same fate of living another's dream.
I sat down on his bed and waited as he went to drag in this oversized, designer suitcase. He flopped it down on the floor and after a moment of searching he came up with a small package.
"For you!" He said simply, holding it out on open palms.
I took it, and for a moment and nearly convinced myself this was his way of saying he felt like I did.
But no, I knew better.
Inside the box wrapped inside plain paper, was an all metal comb, my name 'William T. Guile' and the date clumsily etched in it.
"I couldn't afford to have you name put on it so I did it myself." Nash's grin was somewhere between embarrassment and glowing pride.
I never left home with out that comb again. Ever.
Nash and I went back to school that very week. And the days rolled by, summer to fall. I found my infatuation harder to hide. I was sure now, sure that I loved him.
Again a summer, a fall, a winter. We where only 15 then, young men, enjoying the Winter Celebration's after hour activities in the court yards and class room. Nash and I where standing under a maple tree, bare and stained golden by the lights of the hall, in which the only dance of the year was held. The girls of the near by Sacred Heart Catholic Academy came to visit us and share their virtues. I leaned against the tree as we made idle talk.
"Nash..." I said, my tone a bit heavy. He stopped and looked.
"Yea, what is it Will, somethin' wrong?"
"I ah...I got something to tell you." I stepped closer to him.
"Yea?"
I closed my eyes and felt my heart start to slam in my chest. But no I wasn't scared; I was excited. So overjoyed to be ready to say it. I felt so strong at that moment, as if I was in control of my own destiny.
"I-I love you Nash..." I looked up; he was stunned. His mouth came open, his beautiful eyes got as big as dinner plates.
"Come again...?" He whispered blankly.
My stomache dropped out as I opened my mouth to speak.
"No-no Will. Your not... Take that back."
"But I..."
"Take I back Will!" There was a fire in his words now, a fire my tears could never put out, not now. "Your not a fag! I should know! We grew up together your my- you where my best friend and my fucking best friend isn't a fag!"
But his best friend, his old best friend, his brother, his kin in a way, was gay.
He was screaming, and he moved toward me, I back up. I could feel the anger, his aura almost visible in the pale night. I never thought of this out come. Never understand why. But that happened next I couldn't explain.
Nash moved, something hit my chest. He moved again and again I felt the pain.
My God, that was Nash. He was hitting me. Harder that time and harder still. Tears came to my eyes as repeatedly his strong arms drove steel hard punches into my body. As if beating me would make my love for him just go away.
If only it where so simple.
I loved him then. I loved him as I bled for him, as I cried for him. I loved him as a crowd gathered, as he screamed to them I was a queer and they laughed. I loved him as they carried me to the hospital wing. I watched his breakdown and cry, and yes, I loved him then too.
I sat there in bed, eyes transfixed on the plain white walls the next evening, waiting. For what, I didn't know. Answers maybe. Perhaps a little hint to hit me in the head. But no, it never came to.
But when the sun set that night I knew one thing. When I woke up, I would never love Nash again.
~End part I~
To be continued...