Return To Me Chapter 1: Lost Hope, a Misc. Anime/Manga + Maximum Ride Crossover fanfic

Return To Me

I fell in love with the yaoi manga Freezing Flame some time ago, and I finally decided to write a fic for it. This is kind of a crossover with the Maximum Ride series by James Patterson, but only a little bit. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Freezing Flame or Maximum Ride. If I owned them, I'd be rich.

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Chapter 1

Gentle, teasing touches.

A shaky exhalation of breath.

Yoshitaka felt his lover's fingers gliding over the bare skin of his chest, caressing the sensitive areas they both knew so well.

This isn't a half-bad way to wake up, he thought amusedly.

Suddenly, his left nipple was given a sharp tweak. He hissed, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter.

"Katsumi," he said in a wavering voice. "What are you doing?"

The other man giggled softly. "Trying to wake you up," he replied, his voice somehow innocent and sultry at the same time.

Yoshitaka opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a low moan as Katsumi began licking and nipping his chest, gradually moving lower and lower. The older man could feel the smirk on his lover's face as he nuzzled his stomach, placing soft, lingering kisses on the quivering muscles.

"Yoshitaka," he began softly, his tongue dipping into the older man's belly button. "I need you to do something for me."

His lover bit his lip to contain the embarrassing noises that threatened to spill forth as Katsumi's tongue slid just under the waistband of his boxers. "Anything!" he choked out.

"I need you to wake up…"

Yoshitaka's eyes snapped open as she shot into a sitting position, the sweat-soaked sheets pooling around his waist. He looked around, eyes wide and searching.

"Katsumi?" he called into the darkness. "Katsumi, where are y-"

He cut himself off as his heart contracted painfully.

Katsumi wasn't there.

Katsumi hadn't been there in years…

*3 Years Before*

Katsumi let out a sigh of relief as he packed away the last contract. It had been a long day, and all the young man wanted was to go home, take a shower, and sleep. Even spending some quality time with Yoshitaka sounded too strenuous. He knew his lover would understand, though. After the incident with Prince Sheriku, the man had become less controlling and more sensitive. It had helped smooth out the remaining wrinkles in their relationship, something that eased some of the weight off both of their shoulders.

Katsumi picked up his briefcase and walked out of his office, making sure the door was locked behind him. As he stepped into the elevator, his phone began to ring. He smiles as he reached into his pocket and pulled it out. He didn't even bother checking the caller ID before flipping it open.

"I'm leaving work now," he said into the receiver.

"Took you long enough. I thought you were planning on sleeping there tonight."

The younger man laughed. "No, it's too cold here. I think I prefer your house.

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Are you alright?"

Katsumi nodded, and then realized that his lover couldn't see him through the phone. "Yeah, 'm fine. Just tired. Work was a bitch today."

"You have the day off tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you can sleep in then. You haven't had a full day off in a while, so why not enjoy it?"

The elevator pinged as it reached the ground floor, the doors sliding open to reveal the lobby. "We can both enjoy it," Katsumi replied. He blushed a little, knowing the implications of what he'd just said.

"I'm going to hold you to that," Yoshitaka said with a chuckle. "So, how long should it take you to get here?"

"It should only take me twenty minutes, if traffic isn't bad," he said as he pushed through the revolving doors and stepped into the cool night air. "I'm leaving the building right now."

As he passed a small alleyway next to the building, someone grabbed him by the collar and hauled him into it. Katsumi let out a cry of surprise.

"Katsumi? Katsumi, what's going on?"

Before Katsumi had a chance to reply, a cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose. He inhaled sharply, struggling to get away as he started to get dizzy. His cell phone and briefcase hit the ground, the former still emitting Yoshitaka's now worried voice. Everything started to get blurry. Katsumi felt himself fall into a pair of muscular arms as it all went black.

That had been the last time Yoshitaka- or anyone, for that matter- had heard from Katsumi. He had rushed out of the house when the other phone went dead. When he reached the building, all he could find was the shattered remains of Katsumi's cell phone and brief case. He had dropped to his knees, numbly dialing the number for the police station and stammering a quick account of what had happened.

The weeks that had followed had been hell. The police had scoured the city for any hint of Katsumi's whereabouts, leaving no stone unturned, no door unopened. Yoshitaka barely slept. He could barely stand being without his lover, no matter how short or how long the period of time. The few hours of sleep he did manage to grab each week were always in his office; sleeping in his bed without Katsumi's warm body beside him was unbearable. The house itself was seemed empty and lonely now. Eiji and Helena stopped by when they could, as did Wakabayashi, all trying to keep his hopes up.

But several months later, the police called off the search, and Yoshitaka truly despaired. Eiji took over the company, though he kept saying it was only until his brother recovered. Yoshitaka became a mere shadow of the man he had once been. He drank almost constantly for the first few months, until he got tired of the paternal, condescending way people used to talk to him when he was drunk. He didn't bother even going to the office; it was a pointless venture when his emotions rendered him useless.

He had contemplated suicide. Twice, Wakabayashi walked in on him about to slash his wrists with a kitchen knife. The first time, the man had grabbed the knife, thrown it to the floor, and started shaking him by the shoulders, screaming in his face about how much of an idiot he was being. The second time, Wakabayashi had just glared at him coldly.

"Katsumi was never this weak," he had said simply.

Yoshitaka had been reduced to tears.

Now, years later, the pain still hadn't lessened. Dreams of Katsumi still came to him every night, keeping the wound in his heart open and bleeding. Even now, as he stared at his empty hands, he felt like he was being stabbed repeatedly. When he had lost Katsumi, he hadn't just lost a lover.

He had lost part of his soul.

Cold.

It was always cold.

And dark, too. Light only heralded pain and death. Dark was good.

Hope.

There had been hope, long, long ago. Days? Weeks? More like centuries.

Hope belonged in the past.

I know! The emoness is running rampant in this chapter, but I promise it will get better!