by Wusai
DISCLAIMER: Hunter x Hunter belongs to Yoshihiro Togashi, Shueisha, etc.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I swore that I would never write one of these fics.
I'm bad at keeping promises.
Feitan x Phinx physically, Phinx x Feitan mentally. I think these things out too much. Xx It's a meaningless, plotless bit of barbed wire (meh, 'fluff' isn't what I'd use to call FeiPhinx). I'd like to say 'enjoy,' but everyone's going to smack me and tomorrow morning I'm going to wake up and wonder what the hell I just wrote.
Honeyed sun oozes through the window, creeps down the windowsill, crawls and multiplies to submerge mahogany furniture in a dull, sweet glow. A small figure sits precariously on the edge of a stiff bed, wrinkled sheets embracing him.
Click. Click. Click. Tiny flecks of dirt and dead skin, little clots of dried blood, pinpricks that were the edges of scars - all are flicked out from under his fingernails at an infuriatingly even pace. From behind a closed door, the rain of running water thunders down, the early-morning silence drifting in torn bits around it. Birds warble, a reassuring sound, trilling over weak zephyrs pushing their way past heavy curtains. And sometimes, a lone, mournful note floats past his ears, and that click click click stops for a moment - a fraction of a second.
Finally the rushing water stops with the soft screech of iron beginning to rust being pushed down. He doesn't look up from his position on the bed, but his ears twitch a little - just a bit. When the bathroom door creaks open, his finger jerks a fraction of a millimeter. The faintest patting sounds assault his ears; the slightest scent of cheap hotel shampoo wafts over to him and surrounds his senses. He is greatly aware of Phinx sitting next to him, but pretends to ignore him, back facing him. Phinx' aura is relaxed - calm - warm and embracing, embracing him. Silently, he combats it with a wave of cold rejection, shoving the warmth into an isolated corner. Phinx' aura flares with a bit of anger - hurt - but after a flicker of smugness. Phinx' aura reaches out again, caressing him, tracing a tendril down his tense neck, and he shivers, responding with a strong burst of hate that paralyzes Phinx for a full second.
All the while with the steady click click click in the background.
Suddenly he feels something alien touching upon the scarred skin of his shoulder. The clicking sound stops as he turns, yellow eyes narrowing, to see what annoyance Phinx has unleashed this time. He sees a satisfied smirk on Phinx' face, takes in an arm that has reached towards him, and a wrist peeking out from the collar of his shirt. His narrowed eyes abruptly widen; he clenches Phinx' arm and pushes it back to him. When he releases his vice-like hold, Phinx observes, amused, the crescents dug into his flesh, bleeding beads of red, crimson trails in their wake. Feitan doesn't realize it, but he's breathing a little faster now, a subtle increase by only a sliver of a second, but Phinx notices.
"Cold," Phinx breathes in Feitan's ear, "you're so cold. Can't even accept a little touch . . ."
"You 'said'," Feitan hisses softly, "that for this relationship to work - this partnership - we are to respect each others' wishes."
"Just one touch and you're so worked up over it," Phinx says, amused. "One touch and you're ready to kill me." Swiftly, Phinx is pushed onto his back with Feitan straddling him.
"I 'asked' you yesterday if you would try not to be such an inconsiderate idiot," Feitan murmurs, "and you 'said' that you would try."
"But what I'm saying is true, Master Feitan." There it is, the unmasked glint in his eyes that no amount of practice can ever cover, that glint in his eyes when he knows that he's angered Feitan. Feitan pushes away the towel slung around Phinx' neck in disgust, then drags sharp fingernails down Phinx' bare chest, leaving five long, shallow gashes. Phinx grins slyly, knowing that he's won, which serves only to infuriate Feitan more. Feitan drags his fingernails over Phinx' chest again and again, leaving uneven lines of red beads and crimson wakes, compressing coagulating blood under those fingernails he'd just cleaned a minute ago. He wants Phinx to scream, to yell out in pain, to collapse and beg for forgiveness - but all he does is stare at him with that glint in his eyes and that smirk on his face.
The feeling of bloodlust washes over Feitan as he looked at Phinx, eyes traveling to his throat. He wants to sink his nails into that scarless bit of flesh, tear it open with relish, watch blood spurt out in high arcs. He wants to pop out one of Phinx' eyes, then crush it in his fist - even better if it was still connected to Phinx. And those smirking lips, he wants to pry them apart and shove the Pear in, turn the key, and watch the points of the longer spikes jut out, distorting him; he wants to bind Phinx' wrists together and dislocate his shoulders from behind . . .
But he can't - come what may, when they'd enter Greed Island, he didn't want to face it alone. Phinx' company is somehow reassuring, in the sense that he could 'talk' with him and hurt him without any objections. His aura flickers for a moment, teetering on the edge of doubt before falling into the abyss of . . . what could be called 'friendship.'
"You know what, Feitan? If you can shock me - as in, emotionally - with something you do, I assure you that I won't touch you ever again, and you have my permission to kill me if I do."
"And you are suggesting this because . . .?"
He grinned. "I'd like to see what you're going to do."
Feitan's eyes narrow, but he 'replies' accepting the request. He sits atop Phinx for a moment, thinking, holding down Phinx' arms and clenching them tightly. But then he smirks as he figures out something that'd shock Phinx - many things, in fact. Sacrificing some dignity for a lifetime of Phinx not touching him, he figures, is perfectly fine. Feitan smirks a bit wider, grasps Phinx' head, then lowers his face closer to his, so close that their noses touch and Phinx can almost feel Feitan's eyelashes brushing against his face. Phinx remains 'silent' with those lips still curved into a confident smirk. He knows Feitan, knows him well.
And when Feitan lowers his lips to Phinx's, it's not Phinx who's shocked, but Feitan - shocked at what he's doing, shocked by the sudden burst of feeling passing through him, shocked because Phinx isn't. Little jolts of pleasure flit through Feitan; he's unused to this; he lets his guard down and barely notices when Phinx deepens the kiss, 'insulting' Feitan and 'saying' that he's never kissed before, has he? And to push the situation to its limits, Phinx reached under Feitan's shirt, tracing fingers over the multiple scars from both Feitan's Meteor City days and when his victims struck back. And there he knows that he has Feitan, there he knows.
When they break apart with a little bite on the lip courtesy Feitan to Phinx, they're both 'silent.'
Then Feitan 'asks' if he's shocked Phinx, and he 'replies' that yes, because he still has all his limbs after he touched Feitan - a lot. He 'says' (reluctantly) that he supposes he'll never be able to touch Feitan again . . . And somewhere in Feitan's mind, he 'objects.'
The honeyed sun oozes over them - and they're silent.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: WTF WAS THAT CRAP!FIC?! is probably what's going on through your head right now. :3 I dunno. It's 2AM and it makes sense to me. If you'd like an explanation, I can tag one in as a separate chapter.
Constructive criticism please. mwah! Please point out if there's any tense changes. I started at present, switched to past, then switched to present again. :D
Wusai
Specific Dates:
Started Writing: July 24th, 2004; 11:43PM.
Finished Writing: July 25th, 2004; 2:13AM.
