Tsuki Ya Aranu?
/Can it be that there is no moon?/
Slowly his head tilts to the side, resting on my shoulder as we huddle on the thin curtains spread over the cold floor. Shadows overlap like vultures over prey, lulling us into a chase of little peace, stealing the refuge we take in each other's apparition. But still I see those hazel eyes through the darkness, through the closed lids, through the suffering hard-pressed on our shoulders. In them I see only myself, my eyes. His pain is my pain, his needs, his pleasures, his desires and helplessness as mine, his body, his heart, his soul.
And no one, not even the rain, can wash the warming sense of completion away. The smothering consciousness of love-making still runs through my veins and I cherish it, reveling in the knowledge that I had experienced it in his body, and he in my hands.
He stirs in his place, blinking once, then twice, as drops of water puddle in the curves of his face, his lips quirking. I bend down to kiss him lightly, and he searches deeper into my arms, a wordless plea to keep him, to watch over him. I pull his head to my neck, encouraging him to hide from the vindictive chill and clamor of air and liquid crashing over our naked bodies, willing the nightmares away. Horrid reflections of the past, of losing lives so dear to us, of tears that no longer listened to anything but the thunder of war. A cruel reminder of what we are worth; to anyone, nothing, to each other, everything.
Close, too close. No one understands it, even those who pity us, and beyond anything we are outcasts, rejected, repulsed at. People who see it refuse to believe it, those with no inkling what it is like to live for and live from and learn everything there is to survive and love and hate from just one person since the day you were born, and they convict us for the maliciousness that they know it, but here and now, that we are alone and together, breathing each other's breath, hearts beating in union, that some code, some society, some god condemned us, here I know this boy lying in my arms could not be a mistake, that everthing in him is rightfully well deserved. That we have been born for each other, sharing the same womb, the same face, the same destiny, seeing through each other's eyes, feeling with each other's skin, living through each other's hearts. No other external love can parallel this. No other can understand as much.
I feel his lips on the hollow of my throat, nuzzling against my skin, to catch my attention. I turn to him, my hand shielding his face from the rain as he looks at me, eyes cherishing a wish.
"Tell me again about the Seiryuu, niisan,"
I press my cheek to his forhead and rub his back soothingly. "I will. But you have to sleep afterwards Su-chan. It's very late."
"Hai."
I smile at the simple agreement, whispering the legend that so frequently accompanied us to slumber, about the dream and promise and hope that would save us from the death we try to hold each other away from. His breathing steadies, and I realize he is asleep, my own eyes growing heavy. I feel him murmur something aginst my skin.
"Ai shiteru Ami-niichan."
I hold him closer, our bodies melding. Maybe, someday, I can save you from this.
"Ai shiteru."
Miaka: That's disgusting! You yaoi perverts are SICK!
Nuriko: /gasping/ Nani? /sob/ I can't even stop crying! /buries face in Tasuki's neck and… well, um…/
Aki: Hee-chan, Aya-kun…
Miaka: Um… guys? /shrinks at the sight of the two stone-faced bishounen stalking her/
Aki: /yawns/ Take her to Karasu's room.
Miaka: /eyes spill out/ NOOO!!!!!!!!!!! I WON'T DO IT AGAIN!!!!!!!!! /arms hooked and dragged to Karasu's, ahem, "lab", sobbing/
Heero: Too late woman. /smirks/.
Aya: Hentai perverts are we… /smirks/.
Ken: Duo! /gasp/ They're… smiling!!!
Duo: It's just the sadistic streak showing. Don't freak out Ken-ken, it'll pass. /leers/ Or if yer lucky /wink-wink/ maybe not…
Ken: Oh… /gulps/.
/Can it be that there is no moon?/
Slowly his head tilts to the side, resting on my shoulder as we huddle on the thin curtains spread over the cold floor. Shadows overlap like vultures over prey, lulling us into a chase of little peace, stealing the refuge we take in each other's apparition. But still I see those hazel eyes through the darkness, through the closed lids, through the suffering hard-pressed on our shoulders. In them I see only myself, my eyes. His pain is my pain, his needs, his pleasures, his desires and helplessness as mine, his body, his heart, his soul.
And no one, not even the rain, can wash the warming sense of completion away. The smothering consciousness of love-making still runs through my veins and I cherish it, reveling in the knowledge that I had experienced it in his body, and he in my hands.
He stirs in his place, blinking once, then twice, as drops of water puddle in the curves of his face, his lips quirking. I bend down to kiss him lightly, and he searches deeper into my arms, a wordless plea to keep him, to watch over him. I pull his head to my neck, encouraging him to hide from the vindictive chill and clamor of air and liquid crashing over our naked bodies, willing the nightmares away. Horrid reflections of the past, of losing lives so dear to us, of tears that no longer listened to anything but the thunder of war. A cruel reminder of what we are worth; to anyone, nothing, to each other, everything.
Close, too close. No one understands it, even those who pity us, and beyond anything we are outcasts, rejected, repulsed at. People who see it refuse to believe it, those with no inkling what it is like to live for and live from and learn everything there is to survive and love and hate from just one person since the day you were born, and they convict us for the maliciousness that they know it, but here and now, that we are alone and together, breathing each other's breath, hearts beating in union, that some code, some society, some god condemned us, here I know this boy lying in my arms could not be a mistake, that everthing in him is rightfully well deserved. That we have been born for each other, sharing the same womb, the same face, the same destiny, seeing through each other's eyes, feeling with each other's skin, living through each other's hearts. No other external love can parallel this. No other can understand as much.
I feel his lips on the hollow of my throat, nuzzling against my skin, to catch my attention. I turn to him, my hand shielding his face from the rain as he looks at me, eyes cherishing a wish.
"Tell me again about the Seiryuu, niisan,"
I press my cheek to his forhead and rub his back soothingly. "I will. But you have to sleep afterwards Su-chan. It's very late."
"Hai."
I smile at the simple agreement, whispering the legend that so frequently accompanied us to slumber, about the dream and promise and hope that would save us from the death we try to hold each other away from. His breathing steadies, and I realize he is asleep, my own eyes growing heavy. I feel him murmur something aginst my skin.
"Ai shiteru Ami-niichan."
I hold him closer, our bodies melding. Maybe, someday, I can save you from this.
"Ai shiteru."
Miaka: That's disgusting! You yaoi perverts are SICK!
Nuriko: /gasping/ Nani? /sob/ I can't even stop crying! /buries face in Tasuki's neck and… well, um…/
Aki: Hee-chan, Aya-kun…
Miaka: Um… guys? /shrinks at the sight of the two stone-faced bishounen stalking her/
Aki: /yawns/ Take her to Karasu's room.
Miaka: /eyes spill out/ NOOO!!!!!!!!!!! I WON'T DO IT AGAIN!!!!!!!!! /arms hooked and dragged to Karasu's, ahem, "lab", sobbing/
Heero: Too late woman. /smirks/.
Aya: Hentai perverts are we… /smirks/.
Ken: Duo! /gasp/ They're… smiling!!!
Duo: It's just the sadistic streak showing. Don't freak out Ken-ken, it'll pass. /leers/ Or if yer lucky /wink-wink/ maybe not…
Ken: Oh… /gulps/.