Title: Prayer of Old
Autor: Me
Disclaimer: I don't own characters, game, or anything that has something to do with Vagrant Story.
Rating: T
Summary:One-shot. Present times. Dance floor, prayer and kisses. Slash.
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Prayer of Old
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He is beautiful. He is graceful. His every move is poetry told by honey-tongued minstrel. His tattooed hands dance in harmony of sincere prayer and pure religion even if he does not realize it yet.
"Here you are again… Aren't you?"
He does not know that voice and at the same time he knows it so well it resonates deep within making him understand the one he belongs to, the one he is property of, the one he was waiting for all his life has finally come. His lips part with sudden relief and passion he lacked till now, his insatiable hunger grows even more. It hurts. It hurts so deliciously sweet it becomes truly unbearable.
Grey-blue eyes meet hazel ones. He smiles.
"It would seem so," the sensual words spill from his mouth without him realizing he speaks. The hunt is on, and he is the willing prey. Complete surrender is mere seconds away. Time for both of them is only a matter of little inconvenience. "Have we met before?"
"After a fashion." The edges of the man are hard and enticing, his hands seem rough, but the boy feels sudden excitement at the thought of those calluses tracing the lines of black ink on his skin. The world around slows and stops. "I heard your prayer."
"That's good because I prayed just for you." The kiss is a bit wild and uncontrolled, starved and desperate, and yet, sweet and fulfilling. There is a bitterness in the taste, and familiarity, and need… Need for something intangible, unreachable, something he will never have again, the boy realizes suddenly. And even then it does not stop him from trying and being the willing quarry to this man he sees for the first time in his short life.
"Come with me," the man commands and he complies with pleasure.
Next day the boy is the one tracing the lines of black ink on the man's skin.
"You came for me," he wonders aloud, exhilarated beyond reason. "You hunted for me."
"That's what you wanted, isn't it?" The man smiles.
"Yes, Riskbreaker, that's what I wanted from you, to forever chase me through the whole world, and to conquer me every time," the boy leans and whispers to his ear. "To make me yours. That's what I prayed for every night with my whole body and my whole soul."
"Did you get your wish?"
"After a fashion." The boy smiles, kissing the symbol of long forgotten sin and power beyond imagination, so close yet so far from his reach, forever denied to him.