Taming the Wild
It was going to be fun, Fuuma thought, to capture that hissing wildness and tame his Kamui.
AN: This could be considered a PWP if there was any lemon involved, but there isn't. TRC Fuuma really tickles my quirkiness factor with the smiley-smiley-homicidal-ness, so you get this. More notes at the end.
X/1999 belongs to CLAMP.
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Kamui was curled up in a ball, legs pulled up towards his chest. His back was turned flat against a wall as if he could fend off the world that way. Fuuma liked watching Kamui like this – he looked defenseless even though his body was poised for fight or flight, whichever seemed best. Fuuma might have been content to watch for a few hours – the way Kamui's chest rose and fell steadily or how his eyes flickered gently under his eyelids – if the younger teen didn't have his head tucked under another's chin, one hand fisted tightly in white material.
The Sumeragi looked exhausted. Under the influence of sleep, he looked fragile, the anger and misery smoothed away temporarily. Unlike Kamui, meditations and deep sleep did this broken one good. Fuuma understood all too clearly why the Sakurazukamori had marked him as prey. Even though his world was crumbling around him, the Sumeragi had one arm slung loosely around Kamui, subconsciously cradling Kamui's head and shoulders.
Their clothes were scuffed and dirtied from several days' worth of dust and blood. They slept with the exhaustion of the dead, leaning against one another for comfort, but to Fuuma's eyes, they lay curled like lovers.
With a calm of a storm-filled sky, Fuuma swoop down on them, catching the Sumeragi's slim throat under one hand and tearing him from Kamui's grip. Green eyes snapped open as the omnyouji instinctively kicked out and rolled, but his sleep-fogged mind slowed his reflexes just enough that Fuuma simply ducked and slammed the Sumeragi's head heavily against the wooden floor, tightening his fingers to the point of strangulation.
"Kamui," he purred over the sound of the Sumeragi's choking, "you never told me you preferred broken lovers. Then again, birds of a feather flock together, no?"
Fuuma expected the energy ball, and swept up his free hand with a wave of energy to counter the blow. The resultant blast forced him to close his eyes briefly, but he ignored the rubble and little burns on his exposed skin. Kamui looked frantic, kneeling unbalanced on the creaking mattress, one hand stretched out from the blast he threw out. His amethyst eyes looked both pleading and angry as always, and Fuuma could tell panic and the suddenness of the attack was causing the younger teen to act recklessly.
"Careful, Kamui. Wouldn't want to fry your precious omnyouji together with me, would you?"
Kamui froze, and Fuuma saw his eyes flicking frantically around the room, trying to find a way to put himself between his friend and his twin star.
He always, always knew that Kamui was his one weakness, but Fuuma silently berated himself for being distracted when a pure white dove swept into his face and exploded with a loud snap. There was a hard kick against his upper chest, and Fuuma quickly rolled away.
He rolled to his feet in time to intercept Kamui as his twin star tried to join the Sumeragi's side. Fuuma slashed a horizontal arc, and watched Kamui flip backwards, landing smoothly on his feet.
"What the fuck do you want, Fuuma?" Kamui snarled. Fuuma calmly swept one hand upwards, wiping off the sticky heat on the side of his face and marveling at the blood. He stood sideways to both of them, refusing to underestimate the omnyouji even though Kamui was obviously the wildcard.
"Good morning," he said with a grin, the one that made Kamui twitch every time he saw it because it brought back mangled precious childhood memories. "You looked so comfortable together that I couldn't help interrupting."
The Sumeragi did not stand idle. His hands were twisted into a sign. Fuuma felt his hair ruffle as a storm of doves materialized, their wing flutter sending a shockwave of wind around the room.
Fuuma was a hunter in every sense of the word. He knew his priorities – get rid of the dangerous extra.
"You should know better than to interfere," he told the omnyouji calmly, "after all, you know first hand that we hunters never let up on our prey."
The Sumeragi stayed silent, refusing to rise to the bait. His eyes flickered to Kamui and a silent part of Fuuma growled at the ease of their silent communication, something that spoke of clear familiarity and trust.
Kamui bounded forward. Of course he would attack first, finally unashamed of taking the slight advantage Fuuma presented to him, providing distraction to give the omnyouji time to focus and to keep Fuuma trained on him, the moving target.
Fuuma blocked the broad-handed slash and met Kamui's onslaught with a ball of energy, this time holding the power tightly encased instead of letting it dissipate into the air. Kamui was holding his own, eyes bright with concentration. The force of their attacks was keeping the Sumeragi from interfering. Fuuma smiled. His twin star was getting better, no longer allowing fears and memories tie his powers down.
But he still wasn't good enough to follow all of Fuuma's tricks.
Spontaneously dropping his energy shield, Fuuma swept forward in that absence, managing to press one hand flat against Kamui's chest. He sacrificed his glasses for that move – leaning backwards just enough so Kamui's swipe shattered the frames and didn't slash his face – but he got what he wanted. Spreading his fingers, Fuuma sent a long chain of energy down his fingertips to surround Kamui, caging him in and tying his limbs down.
Fuuma quickly shoved the younger teen away. The dove storm had returned in full now that his and Kamui's power weren't there to hold them at bay. They flew a little erratically, in wide streaming arcs in an attempt to force him away from Kamui.
"Don't worry about him, Subaru-kun," Fuuma blocked the streak of ofuda, their sharp edges cutting briefly into his hands before Fuuma's power tore them into shreds. He watched the Sumeragi's eyes narrow and sharpen, green eyes gleaming. It seemed that the Sumeragi knew exactly who his destiny was entwined around, and he wouldn't confuse Fuuma with the Sakurazukamori again. "You'll see your twin star soon enough."
His energy chains wouldn't hold Kamui for long – his twin star was nothing if not stubborn, especially when it involved the ones he loved in general, and Fuuma specifically. Seven seconds, ten maximum, but that time interval will be enough.
"Here's some advice," he told the Sumeragi conversationally. "Don't touch what's mine." With a cat's coil and leap, he sprung at the omnyouji, leaving himself open to the flock of doves in favor catching their master. The Sumeragi had learned, an ofuda already flicked and ready to protect his throat. With a wind-swept flash of energy, Fuuma ripped the ofuda apart. The white storm swept around him, half attacking with sharp shocks of magic, the other defending, pushing him back.
But Fuuma was the dark Kamui. Only his twin star could match him.
Fuuma caught the Sumeragi by the throat, hands fitting conveniently into the bruise prints forming from the last time he did this, and with a pulse of power, smashed the omnyouji straight through the glass windows and dropped him down eleven stories.
"Subaru!" Kamui screamed, the energy chains shattering around him. He scrambled through broken glass and wood to lean over the edge, leaving his back vulnerably open to his twin star.
Fuuma raised an eyebrow at Kamui's panicked cry. "Now really, Kamui, he's a Dragon of Heaven. Even a Seal wouldn't die at a mere fall like that."
Kamui's eyes turned like compasses towards him, face contorted in a mixture of accusation and bewilderment. Fuuma shrugged. He wasn't trying to be comforting.
"Of course, the Sakurazukamori was waiting for me in front of this building, and I'm sure he'll enjoy playing with his prey." Fuuma looked downwards, and smiled when all he saw was a pristine clean street, clear of pedestrians, broken rubble and bloodied omnyoujis. The Sakurazukamori's famed illusions, no doubt. "Broken – literally – or otherwise."
"You didn't," Kamui breathed, the wheels turning and clicking into conclusion in his head.
"Of course I did," Fuuma replied, leaning idly back against a wall that wasn't cracked or flaking too badly from the fights before. "It's what I live for, killing the Dragons of Heaven. The Sakurazukamori shares my passion, so who am I to deny him his play? The Sumeragi rightfully belongs to him."
He eyed Kamui with eyes that gleamed burnished gold without the shield of glasses blocking them and watched the slight shiver run down the younger teen's spine.
"I don't belong to you," Kamui said, his hands fisting, the pressure of his grip turning his pale skin even whiter around his knuckles. "I never did."
Fuuma tested the waters with a small energy bolt; Kamui dodged the idle blow almost instinctively, every sense tuned towards his twin star. Kamui never broke their gaze as he swept forward, his face carefully bland.
Fuuma was just a little surprised to find the blow aimed straight at his heart, the trajectory straight and true. There were no visible signs of Kamui's power, no stinging wind nor crackle of lightning. It almost seemed like Kamui was determined to kill him, and to kill him with his own hands.
They crashed together because even though Kamui amused him, Fuuma wasn't willing to let himself get killed for it. It was a pity they didn't have the Shinkens, but it wasn't the Promised Day yet. Kamui quickly summoned a shield between him and Fuuma and rolled around the invisible barrier to swipe at Fuuma's exposed sides.
His twin star moved like a cat though a well-hunted forest, and although Fuuma intercepted every blow, Kamui's damnable grace and agility was an irritating trait. Blood was starting to drip down from what were, although superficial, definite wounds.
The break came when Kamui snapped forward a little too much, trying to press his advantage. Fuuma took opportunity of the opening as was expected, and although he suffered a long cut on the side of his throat – dangerously close to his jugular vein, that – Fuuma had the satisfaction of feeling his fingers skitter off Kamui's ribs as he ripped a somewhat jagged slash down Kamui's side.
Kamui quickly backed away, pressing one hand to his side briefly. His eyes were half shut, lashes fluttering slightly, but he drew a deep breath and focused back on the battle.
"I could swear you're doing your best to actually kill me this time, Kamui," Fuuma said almost breathlessly. It was a little grating that Kamui wasn't breaking like he usually did in his confrontations with Fuuma, but this Kamui, so reminiscent of the bitter, angry Kamui that had returned to Tokyo, was refreshingly appealing.
"Maybe I am," Kamui replied, calling up a small spark-ball and launching it at Fuuma's head.
Fuuma dodged and laughed. "And I didn't even have to put anything through you. Glass, blades, my hands." He looked idly at blood on his hand.
"A blessing in disguise, that," Kamui said, amethyst eyes glittering.
"But Kamui, did you forget our promise? That we would protect each other?" Fuuma breathed, pitching his voice a little lower and widening his eyes, twisting his expression into one of utmost concern.
"Stop playing with my head," Kamui snarled. His mental defenses were predictably easy to break.
"I thought you wanted the old Fuuma back," Fuuma said mockingly.
"I do!" Kamui yelled at him. "But it's not all I want."
Fuuma licked the liquid off his fingers, and imagined that he could tell the difference between his and Kamui's blood, though the two mingled. He stared thoughtfully at his twin star. "Not all you want?" Fuuma asked softly.
The half-horrified and half-defiant look Kamui tried to conceal was very, very alluring.
"If all you wanted was love, Kamui," Fuuma purred in as low a voice as he could manage, "you could have just said so."
Something in Kamui's eyes snapped, and he leaped at Fuuma, hands held flat and straight, glowing ominously with excess power. "Fuck you, Fuuma," he hissed, and for the first time, Fuuma thought that Kamui might finally unleash his full strength.
Fuuma was almost, almost tempted to let Kamui land an almost-mortal blow, but that act was getting old and he could think of better ways to end this encounter.
Kamui slowed somewhat when Fuuma made no move to defend himself, although anger still sparked in his eyes and there was an incredible aura of power around the teen's form.
Perhaps Fuuma should take a page out of the Sakurazukamori's book.
"I think it's time to mark what's mine," Fuuma said and charged forward towards Kamui. Kamui's eyes widened and the energy around his hand dissipated with an auditory hiss of displaced air and Kamui braced himself for a critical blow that never came.
Fuuma slammed Kamui backwards into the wall twice, plaster from the ceiling drifting down from the impact. Kamui slid down slightly when he lost his footing and Fuuma moved quickly, knowing time was the essence when it came to his highly agitated twin star.
Fuuma smeared a bloody streak across Kamui's chest, ripping apart the black shirt and slashing the white skin with red. He traced a faint parody of a heart shape slightly to the left, heard Kamui gasp and smiled. He caged his fingers over the mark, leaning with his ear pressed flat against his hands so he could hear the steady but fast-paced heartbeat underneath.
"This is mine," Fuuma purred, and felt the motion vibrate through Kamui's skin. He clawed his fingers and dug in lightly. "Mine, in every sense of the word, starting and ending with your very life." He looked up between his eyelashes slyly, studying Kamui's carefully bland face. "Does that please you, Kamui?"
The next thing Fuuma knew, Kamui was burying fingers into his spiky hair and digging down. The younger teen jerked backwards, slamming Fuuma's head painfully against the edge of the table before raising both feet to Fuuma's chest and kicking him away.
Unfortunately, Fuuma snagged his wrist and dragged Kamui down with him. Kamui's free hand impacted with Fuuma's cheek with a resounding crack and then both of them landed, sprawled on the ground.
Fuuma licked his lips. "What, not using your Kamui powers?"
"No," Kamui growled, twisting them around so they rolled, kicking and flailing until he was straddled atop Fuuma, his nimbleness allowing him to stay there despite Fuuma's greater mass and strength. And then there were lips on Fuuma's mouth, teeth biting down and holding even as Kamui wrapped hands around Fuuma's neck and squeezed, leaning down with his weight for added pressure.
Kamui always forgot something that could very well leave him dead. Instead of shoving his arm through Kamui's chest and heart, however, Fuuma wrapped one hand around the nape of Kamui's neck and pulled him forward, deepening their kiss. The other went around one of Kamui's wrists, holding off the grip enough so Kamui didn't quite strangle him to death.
Perhaps Kamui just didn't want to bring the building crashing down on where the Sumeragi was undoubtedly experiencing his own battle-hunt. Fuuma sat up and felt Kamui slide into his lap. He nipped fiercely at bare skin, one exposed nipple, and felt Kamui's fingers loosen from his neck to claw down his back, ripping through the black fabric and leaving angry scratches in their wake.
Maybe not.
Kamui thrashed like a wildcat when Fuuma pinned his slim wrists under his larger hands. Although every move Kamui made screamed of defiance, there was something deep and burning in those amethyst eyes, a burning swirl of lust behind steel, and something more tender and kind behind it all. Fuuma stared down in fascination for a moment, not quite understanding how so many conflicting emotions could exist within one person until Kamui twisted his head around and bit at Fuuma's hand.
It was going to be fun, Fuuma thought, to capture that hissing wildness and tame his Kamui.
..end..
AN: Fuuma always works on his own agenda even if he's technically an agent of Destiny, so if he can seduce Kamui by pretending to try to kill the kid in the process, he'd probably get away with it. Because being the dark Kamui seems to have shattered most of his restraints, and Fuuma's probably merged his protective-characteristics from pre-Apocalypse and the possessive violence post-Apocalypse into two, which could result in this. After all, the only two people he seemed to feel for were Kotori and Kamui, and Kotori's pretty dead.
Review, comment, con/crit, toss anything my way and I will be a happy writer.