A/N: Guess who it is? CX That's right. With another random urge to write a . What's become of me? I'm not usually one for oneshots and here I am writting them. Oh well, here it is. Enjoy or don't but I hope you do. C:
I do not own Xenosaga or the song Paralyzer and although I love Xenosaga I'm not sure if I'd want to own Paralyzer. Finger Eleven sings it so much better. XD
Paralyzer
"Gaignun, we have pressing business in the 37th District."
Oh, this was going to be good. I could tell by the serious way he spoke and the professional tone he had taken. I should've been suspicious by the fact that he was actually doing his share of the paperwork. I glanced over at him. He was pretending to study a piece of paper in front of him. He met my gaze with his own. Yes, this was indeed going to be good. The sparkle and the accompanying smirk in his eyes was a dead give-away. He wasn't planning on keeping his thoughts to himself. I raised an eyebrow at him, my demeanor ever serious.
"Oh?" Is my reply to the earlier information.
Certainly it was very very pressing business because he nodded and responded with a, "Yeah. Something has to be done immediately."
And that's exactly how I ended up here at the bar of an expensive nightclub. My expensive nightclub. Because the Kukai Foundation was in dire need of one and because the second director of the foundation is older than I am.
It's dark in here. Lights of every color stream this way and that in pre-programmed circuits occasionally illuminating the sea of people. The music is loud, almost too loud for human ears. No one seems to mind. I stand quietly, leaning against the counter of the bar. Observing is something I've always done. Perhaps it's a strange habit of mine to always be the voyeur; watching the world from the outside. Everyone seems happy. People laugh. People dance. Occassionally I see Mary and Shelley in the broken rhythm of people. They too are enjoying themselves. I wish I was. This scenery is just not one I'm accustomed to. I've lost sight of him. The thought worries me. I can't find him. Jr. should never be left to his own devices. I pry at the link that binds our thoughts and find him there. He's fine and that lessens my worry but still...
Jr.? I send. He isn't responding. I hold on too tightly to the glass in my hand and press it hesitantly to my lips. The liquid is cold, but it does nothing for my nerves.
Jr. I send again. I'm searching for him, my eyes scanning the darkness for the short shape of my "son".
Where are you, Jr.?I send again, calmly. He is laughing down the link. He's so mischievous. He's planning something now. I can read it in his thoughts. Not too clearly, however. It is as if trying to read print on soggy paper. I hear his laugh again at the analogy. I allow myself a smile.
Still this place holds no enjoyment for me. I would rather stay home. Jr. wouldn't hear of that however. "Gaignun! You can't not come to your own club's opening!" he had shouted at my first refusal. This was followed by a swift, "Damn it, Gaignun! You can't waste away doing paperwork for the rest of your life! Have some fun, loosen up a little!" at my excuse. Perhaps I should only leave the Durandal when Jr. wishes me to stay. Listening to him usually ends me up in a situation where I'm very uncomfortable. If one thing means another...
I'm still scanning the crowd. Jr. still won't tell me where he's hiding. Maybe he's planning a surprise. I've never been one for Jr.'s surprises. The lack of sarcasm in Jr.'s thoughts has me back in the pensive area I was in before. He is fine, is my weak attempt at calming myself. This night hasn't been the best for me.
Hopefully this won't become routine. Long nights in black, noisy clubs. It's not that I don't appreciate the dark atmosphere. I've always liked shadows, especially when Jr.'s involved. No. I shake my head. I must've been drinking more than I thought. A light buzz is beginning to mist its way through my thoughts. I don't usually give way to perversion.
I'm crossing the line from sober to tipsy and the lights are becoming more welcoming as well as the noise. I'm still not having a very good time and I'm still wishing I were at home. Jr. continues to hide what he's thinking. Even though this club is a success I'm still not happy with it. I can only assume it's because of my own displeasure at being here. The people like it and Jr. likes it. I'll let him have his fun. Soon he'll grow tired of this place as he does with everything. Sometimes his impatience works in my favor. I'll give him a few weeks.
The fog is growing heavier and my thoughts are becoming worse and harder to keep from Jr. He'll know my secret soon. I'm considering leaving. I continue to search for Jr. however, as if it is urgent that I see him before I leave. Maybe I'm feeling a little bit too desperate? I finish the drink and order an absinthe, determined to collect Mary, Shelley and leave afterwards. The alcohol is starting to take affect and my mind's traveling the old forbidden track I try to keep hidden. The thought of Jr. and I together has to be one of the most pretentious things...
What was that Gaignun? I didn't catch that last one.
Nothing.I defend, gathering the sobering remnants of my conscious the alcohol has yet to touch. Where are you?
He laughs. Absinthe? That's bad for you, Gaignun.
You're bad for me.
He seems to like that. Finally I see him. Multicolored lights flash on and off his small frame as he walks. There's just something about him. I'll never quite be able to pin it down. He's just striking. His eyes connect with mine. He winks and waves a little bit. Having fun?
What are you up to? I ask, focusing too hard on the spirit in my glass.
He's walking onto a stand, talking to the D.J. who stands behind the old fashioned turntables that Jr. had demanded we acquire in order to stay true to the Foundation's image. What he's doing I can't tell. He's smirking however. I know that smirk.
Suddenly the music stops. I turn my attention back toward him. The sea of dancers stops momentarily before the sound of drums echoes throughout the darkness. It's different from the earlier beats that have reigned throughout the night. A sharp electric guitar accompanies it and plunges the dancers into a different motion. Jr. grins at me, sending chills down my spine. He's picking up something and I can't help but chuckle. Certainly he's not going to sing. Sure, Jr. likes to sing random songs no one has heard since the Lost Jerusalem era, but nothing like this in such a public form. He's not bad, but he's no professional. This should prove amusing.
I'm looking down at my drink. It's almost empty maybe I should ask for another? I'm about to do just that when I hear him.
"I hold on so nervously to me and my drink. I wish it was cooling me."
Hm. He's better than I expected. The harsh tone in his voice has taken is a good blend for the sharp sounds accompanying it.
"But so far has not been good. It's been shitty and I feel awkward as I should."
I'm not really paying attention to the lyrics as I should be. It isn't until after my drink that my foggy mind catches up with his actual words.
"This club has got to be the most pretentious thing since I thought of you and me."
I almost choke on the liquid and snap my head to the boy holding the microphone. He grins wickedly at me. "Now I am imagining a dark-lit place or your place or my place! Well I'm not paralyzed but I seem to be struck by you!"
He's been listening to me this whole time!
"I wanna make you move because you're standing still! If your body matches what your eyes can do, you'll probably move right through me on my way to you!"
Jr., that's not funny. I send as panic starts to rise in my clouded mind. He knows.
I think it is.
"I hold out for one more drink, before I think I'm looking too desperately. But so far has not been fun. I should just stay home, if one thing really means one."
I drink down the last of my new absinthe and demand another from the bartender who seems surprised at the sudden urgency I've gained for the intoxicating drink.
"This club will hopefully be closed in three weeks. That would be cool with me."
I glare at his smirk and he returns it with a wink. "Well I'm still imagining a dark-lit place or your place or my place!"
I down it as fast as I can. Before the next chorus is over the room has begun to spin quite impressively. The colors seem to have become friendly, running into each other and creating new ones I've never seen before. Jr.'s having so much fun right now. He's dancing with the music, earning squeals from his admirers and shouts of encouragement from some of the men. Then he's moving his body and the twist of his hips forces me to down yet another absinthe. I'm a man who knows his limits, but if he keeps moving like that I just might drink myself to death. I've never seen the male body move so appealingly before...
"Another absinthe."
Jr.'s stopped singing for the moment. He's dancing happily while the instruments rule the sound. He's loving every moment of my panic, absorbing it like a sponge. I slowly begin to wonder just how drunk I was if I had allowed control over our link to slip so much. I try to calculate then how exactly drunk I am now. With the arrival of Jr.'s voice I immediately give up and return to my orders.
"I'm not paralyzed but I seem to be struck by you! I wanna make you move because you're standing still! If your body matches what your eyes can do, you'll probably move right through me on my way to you!"
Five more before he finally ends his song. Everyone cheers and demands another one but he jumps down into the crowd. Women shout excitedly and grab at him. It takes a while before he can make his way to the bar and even then more people are still cheering. He's smiling at me as he runs fingers through his tousled hair in an attempt to straighten it. I stare at him in my drunken stupor, fearless thanks to the absinthe.
"So you know now," I say, like the strong masculine man the absinthe has helped me become when I feel like shrinking into a hole and hiding from the 4'8" object of my affection. He made a noise and jumped up onto the stool beside me. The music has started again and everyone has forgotten Jr.'s display.
"Yep." he says coolly. He orders something from the bartender who looks at me for approval. Usually I would say no. It's dangerous for Jr. to be caught drinking in public because of his perceived age. Now however, I could care less. I nodd and the bartender gives him something.
"You could've told me in private. That wasn't the right way to let me know."
Jr. shrugs. "This is a club. People come for entertainment." He's taking a sip of his scotch and smiling at me. "I was being entertaining, right?"
He can tell that I'm at a loss for reply or rather, I don't want to reply. That seems to delight him in a way I can't describe. He's loving my loss, feeling victorious for over me.
"You can keep drinking until you can't feel feelings anymore." he quips. He's taking another sip. "Or you can say something to me."
"Something."
"Asshole."
I love you.
He's smiling at my confession. He's known for a long time now, I assume. My head's spinning too quickly for me to assume anything, however. I can barely form a cognitive thought above Oh no. I once again thank the green god that is absinthe for my strength in speech and stance despite the fact that I want to fall over.
I know.
My heart pounds against my chest. I'm anticipating something terrible to happen. He's being annoyingly nonchalant. He finishes the rest of his scotch and jumps down. He steps up to my slumping form against the counter and I scramble to stand up straight. He laughs. He moves as if to walk past me. Quickly, he grabs my hand in his own.
I love you, too. He sends before winking and running off into the collection of people. I can't fully comprehend what he's just told me. It takes me a few moments before the shock actually sets in. He looks back at me right before he's lost among the people. His smile is dangerous. He's challenging me to follow him. Fine. I smile back and take a few staggering steps toward him. I accept.
A/N: Done. Yay! Silly urge over and done with. Ok, now back to chapters. Hope it was fun. C: