Title: Pre-Funeral Celebrations
Series: Sailor Moon
Author: Dancing Moon
Contact: dancing_moon@hotmail.com or http://go.to/dancing_moon
Warnings: Yaoi! Lime, dark, decently morbid... Probably very OOC as
well. And some blood, but no real violence.
Feedback: Yes, onegai! This is my first attempt at something even
resembling a lemon, and I'd be happy to get advice on where to improve
^_^ All sorts of C&C is therefore welcomed... but flames will be
responded to in the same mature fashion.
Disclaimer: Sailor Moon (c) Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha Ltd. and Toei
Animations. Please don't sue me, I'm just a poor student.
Authors note: I despise those Jadeite as a hyper-uke fics, and
therefore decided to try my hand at writing about the (non-existing)
relationship between the first two kings.
Musical inspiration to this piece came from Ricky Martin and David
Bowie.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Pre-Funeral Celebrations
A funeral is the ceremony that is held when the body of someone who
has died is buried or cremated
- Cobuild English Learner's Dictionary
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Aged stone above me, dusky cold surrounding me. My eyes strain to
discern the broken patterns in the ceiling far above, but there is not
enough light, not even for my eyes though they carry their own evil
illumination.
Doesn't matter, I know this room well enough to name every single
spot, discoloring and tiny crack on the walls and roof. Even now, when
I strain to ignore what lies outside of the warm, closed-off space
that is the bed where I lie, I can't help to hear the slithery sounds
of shadows around me, and I come to wonder if this is how the inside
of my heart looks like. If I still own one, which is in no way
certain.
We live comfortably in Metallia's shadow, She who was trapped in a
void of darkness through the blessed and cursed and wonderfully
painful power of the White Moon queen.
That one day, that eternal second while we burned, the moment we were
both killed and reborn, is the only memory of the time Before that is
still by me, and no matter how I scream when the nightmares wake me,
no matter how he laughs when I try to explain what the pain means to
me, I always feel joyful to remember the short, almost non-existing
moment before, before the Light turned into eternal Darkness.
Ah, but then, I thought I wouldn't have to cling to the old, but still
glorious, defeat, because we insignificant servants to the great demon
found a way out, a return to daylight. I was...
I was the first to take that leap through emptiness, the first to
leave shadows and damp caves, and I was greeted by a fresh jewel
called Earth. Such a blue planet, carrier of life, the planet that is
our birthright. The rich land which we wished to fill with the same
dead darkness that has surrounded us all for ages and seeped deep into
our minds, the new home which would become a symbol of evil, like a
monstrous hearth beating in the universe, filled with corrupted life.
That planet should have fallen easily before me!
No matter how many fires you ignite, the darkness is always there
first and in the end, black emptiness is all that remain. This
threatening failure, this chance of a defeat can not be true, it is
too impossible. And yet, and yet, I am beginning to feel...
"Afraid?"
His deep voice always make me loose my calm. Sometimes, when he
breaths small, but too important, words into my ear, I shudder and
wonder if I can truly stand him another minute, or if I will burn up
with passion and rage. Sometimes, as in this very moment, when his
voice has that a harsh, acidic tone I tense and wonder if I can
survive another moment with that voice hurting me, or if I will be
consumed and destroyed by my own hate.
He is a demon, and I should never have shown him my weaknesses because
now he can play them like the finest instrument, and he never fails to
know how and where his mocking laughter will hurt the most, where it
will leave scars that last for eternity. Bastard.
"Of course not," I laugh haughtily, as if I didn't have a single care
in the world. "They might be able to handle youmas, but one of us?
Never." Even as I form the words, I feel their truth and know them to
be real, because am I not one of the four kings? And is it not so,
that we are invincible, that our darkness is an impenetrable shield?
Yes, that is the truth, the only truth! So... why do you wish that the
evening will never come, mighty king?
"Little girls, trying to stand against me even as they cry over lost
love and the unfair world. Why should I even consider fear?"
Shadows all around me. In this room, not even the eerie glow of
unforgivable sins and dreadful deeds that fills our kingdom can
penetrate the darkness. The black curtain shields me from him, but I
know Nephrite is shaking his head, as I feel the waves of his
ridiculous long hair tickle my arm. Does he seriously think my failure
is so predestined that I can't extinguish those children, or is he
just restless?
"You should fear. Because tonight you will die."
There is no threat in his voice, no hatred, only cool knowledge that
makes my blood boil with fury.
"Your existence will come to an end, and no living being will miss
you. You will die, mourned by no one and soon you will be forgotten,
because you have proved yourself weak."
I growl as he falls silent, and the alluring idea to suffocate him
with the pillow flitters through my head. But I banish the thought,
likewise the even more tempting idea to crush his windpipe with my
bare hands.
Sarcasm makes my voice thick, anger gives it strength and I know I
sound absolutely ghastly. I hope it makes him uncomfortable, for
Metallia knows he deserves it.
"You just had the sudden urge to tell the truth today, or what?"
I bite my tongue. May he be damned. That was not intended to sound
like it did, I wanted to tell him how he repulses me, I wanted him to
know that I've never trusted anything he has told me through all these
years! Shadows and emptiness... Why did it come out like an insurance
of my fears?
The control I have over my emotions, the way I've always been able to
suppress those weakening impulses is something I am proud of, and now
the control completely eludes me. But then, it is not every day that
so clearly threatens to be your last, is it?
The feel of his hand touching me, playing with a lock of my hair, is
unexpected but not displeasing. Nephrite was always fascinated with
the way I refuse to grow my unruly blond locks like is custom in our
kingdom, and as the fingers carefully work on a tousle, I realize I
can clearly hear his heartbeat. At least one of us has a heart, even
if it's long dead.
"How do you know I was telling the truth?"
My eyes close, and instead of the ceiling I now stare at the darkness
behind my eyelids. Black always look the same, but it can feel so
different depending on the source.
I know he is telling the truth as he sees it, because the only time he
has ever stopped lying is to insult someone. But I remain still,
silent. There is no need for him to know that, and it is useful that
he has never been able to hide behind his masks when angered enough.
"Maybe I'm just playing with you, enjoying your fear," he whispers,
voice velvety, and yet dripping with acid.
Then the bastard laughs, and the grip in my hair turns painful, the
gentle hand at once transformed into a claw that attempts to hold my
entire self in its painful grip.
Too slowly, and completely of its own accord, my hand begins to wander
towards his chest. Cold and so smooth, like a finely polished crystal
it feels. The beats of his dark heart echoes through me. Evil like us
really has no right to look so gloriously attractive, but I can't say
I'm sad about it.
"Are you lying, then?"
A tilt of his head, he's distracted, even if only for an eye-blink.
When he opens his mouth to answer I use my not dismissable strength,
violently pushing him backwards. Our powers clash as he fights me, but
this is not something I will give up. Maybe he feels it, or his stars
told him it was not worth the effort, because a moment later I am
lying atop of that hard crystal body, and now I am the one to laugh.
Every words is precisely pronounced, sharply cut off but delivered
faster then he can interrupt. "Whether I'm afraid or not, is none of
your damn business!"
Through my anger, I enjoy him, and my hands languidly wander over his
sharp face. To feel these familiar features... it's good. In dimness,
he shines like one of the nightlights on the sky, in the absence of
sun or moon only his gleaming eyes can be seen and their aesthetic
value is not marred by the false body.
Created by Metallia's hatred, we are, and even if I adore and admire
his crystalline flesh, it makes me even more aware of Her... too
distracting, the enveloping dark with only these twin sapphires
shining is so much better.
In the shadows that protects us, inside the black world where we
exist, we appear almost alive.
His breath on my face tells me that he is staring, open-mouthed and
surprised, at me. For a moment we are both still, our mutual
heartbeats the only sound in the entire kingdom, and the he hisses.
His gleaming eyes turn into angry slits, and the dark body buckles
violently under me, furiously attempting to break my grip.
No such luck for the bastard today.
Calming down a bit, Nephrite seems to be hesitating about which way to
take, and I know he wants to see what I have planned before
responding. I do not intend to let him wait for long.
Mirroring his earlier actions, I take a doubtlessly painful grip of
his auburn tresses, twisting them slowly to keep him down.
I bite my lower lip to hide a small chuckle, but he must have felt the
shaking of my body. His dismissing glare makes me believe so, at
least.
"Feisty, aren't we?"
The lord of the west is completely still for a moment, making me
wonder if I might finally have won our ancient battle, then he
snorts... and bites me! Sharp teeth pierce the skin of my right hand,
and the surprised look in my eyes must have shone even through the
gloom.
Catlike, his tongue flickers lightly over me hand, and he closes his
eyes as if to savor the taste.
"You know," the words are hushed and I must strain to hear them, "that
will be a shame."
Baffled confusion, the bastard takes advantage of my momentary daze to
gnaw off one more piece of the flesh. Damn him, but his teeth are
sharp.
I yank free, and smack him lightly across the forehead. Why is he
acting so strange, why isn't he playing by our age-old rules, that we
both follow even if we have never spoken them loud?
Pleasure, pain, all is allowed... except emotions or actions that
cannot be forgotten when we step outside the corroded doors again.
And then, Nephrite is smearing the scarlet liquid all over his face,
his hot body pressing closer to me until my cheeks are as red as my
injured hand.
"All this, all of this..." he licks my hand, and a lazy speculation
about how I might taste to him floats through my head, before
Nephrite's voice brings me back to the moment.
"All this beautiful red blood, staining the ground for no reason,
spilling over the Earth during a short moment until Metallia takes
back what belongs to her. And then even this," he deepens the wound
yet again but I don't bother to care anymore, because his movements
and touches are too soft to be true, "will be gone. No more Jadeite.
No more of your sparkling red blood."
Thoughts are difficult to grip, but I force mind and mouth to
cooperate, because certain false assumptions are too severe to stay
uncorrected.
"I absolutely refuse to bleed, whether or not I'm dead by tomorrow
night," I crisply inform him. "It would be far to shameful to end my
life in stained clothing."
At this he actually laughs quietly, which angers me slightly. My words
were not intended as a joke. Sincerely, to die covered in blood like a
slaughtered animal, that is below a king.
But I don't feel like trying to explain that to Nephrite, especially
since I doubt he could understand. But this laughter annoys me, and so
I firmly press my lips against his to finally silence him.
"Could it be, that you are done tasting my red blood now, hmm?"
The question hangs in the air for several heartbeats, before I go on
speaking, my voice having sunk several octaves all by itself.
"I just wonder, if you are ready to, ah, go on? If I'll die tomorrow,
and all that," I finish lightly. He will not have the opportunity to
notice my fears once again.
Again, there is nothing but silence. Nephrite twists so that his hair
shades all facial features, but two eyes glisten through the locks
like dark flames, frozen in the moment. In the next instant, his power
is rising, fast and threateningly. Reflexes honed by millennia of
dangerous existence suddenly react, and my shields are up before the
Star King is half finished with whatever spell he has activated.
Is he going to try and kill me in some twisted attempt to win Beryl's
favor, I wonder, as sit up, crouching lightly to protect myself.
But no, such an attack is not something I must fear. He has never been
the kind to grovel by her feet, and I begin to recognize the structure
of his magical weave.
Tiny, but sharp, lights fill our chamber, and the image immediately
brings the night-sky of the Earth into mind. Stars... it's always
those damn stars. If I had a heart to feel pain in, it would be
twisting in agonized jealousy by now, considering how much attention
he spends the unfeeling, unimportant suns of far away.
His mirage caught my attention for a moment, but I've seen and created
more impressive illusions innumerable times before. His voice on the
other hand, the way he turns every word into a deep trap of seduction,
that is something I will never get tired of, no matter how many times
he baits my senses with it.
"I do believe I'm offended. Here I actually confess that I might miss
a part of you... not a very large part, admittedly, nor will I mourn
it for long. But couldn't you have the decency to try and return the,"
he hesitates, and for a moment the surface of a handsome and suave man
dwindles, showing the dark predator beneath until he regains his cool
again, "the compliment?"
Now I understand him, and a fountain of emotions, memories and desires
spring up in my mind. Stolen blood can be used in several dark
conjurations, but if it's given... to freely sacrifice the essence of
your self is a huge risk. But then, he seriously thinks I'll be dead
by tomorrow, doesn't he?
An eyebrow rises slowly, and in that moment the gift turned into a
challenge. The balance has returned, and with a snort I inform
Nephrite that he is one sick bastard. Shrugging, he pulls me closer
and begin to kiss me. He has an odd metallic taste... was it so I
tasted to him, when he took the first drip of my blood. His will taste
different, I know, and I begin to wonder what beyond the color
separates our life-fluid.
When I bite down on those yielding lips, he winces slightly, but after
that he is completely still. A strong smell whirls around us, driving
me half delirious and teeth, lips, tongue, all of me must taste him
and touch him. Not like human blood at all, but I could never mistake
these dark green drops for anything but what it is.
Pulling away, just enough to moan a few words in my ear, Nephrite
mumbles something about us both being sick, and I can't help but grin.
He does speak the truth only when he is insulting someone.
"So let's be sick a while longer, eh?" I whisper, again nuzzling his
sore lips, but much more softly this time.
His taste is both ancient as darkness itself and fresh like the small
illuminated specks of magic he has created around us, and I wonder if
it is nothing more then a result of Metallia's magic that also gave
his blood this odd color, or if he might even have a tiny piece of
soul hidden somewhere which allows him this purity. Not inside his
heart, no, that I've come to know completely, and it is a dried up and
dead as my own, but maybe... maybe far away, floating and resting
among the stars, lies Nephrite's last fragment of soul and dreams and
light. Why else would he adore them so?
Or it is in his skilled hands, that touch me with a gentleness that is
almost painful following the rough treatment, as we begin to move in
the familiar rhythm, the only place where we can truly meet beyond
battle.
"Mhm... so, am I acceptable?"
On such a moronic question, there is really only one kind of answer.
"Actually, you taste a bit like," I search my vocabulary for something
green that will annoy, but not insult, "yes, like apples."
In the artificial starlight, I can actually see the reflection of the
smug smile playing around my lips in his eyes for a moment, before
they flash with anger and disturb the image. How beautifully his nails
shine as he slaps me, and the ringing tone in my ears is an
interesting contrast to the feelings that are beginning to stir deep
in my groin.
This time, I don't attempt to fight the reflex to strangle him...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
We must look like wild animals, rolling among the sheets, clawing and
hitting. Jadeite fights as he always does, viciously and completely
focused on the battle. And because of this, because he always get so
caught up in his own games that he doesn't see the danger behind him,
he will be dead in a matter of hours.
It is also the reason that he doesn't notice how I slowly maneuver us
closer to the edge of the huge bed until I, with a victorious laugh,
push him down onto the clammy stone floor.
A moment passes, the only sounds my soft laughter and his hiss of
anger, before he begins to curse wildly. Please do, let me see the
fire hidden beneath your ice...
Sitting up, he attacks me with a bolt of dark energy, that harmlessly
fizzes over my head as I smoothly dodge.
"Metallia damn you!"
His sudden outburst is filled with hate and passion, how am I supposed
to stop the laughter bubbling up with renewed force? For a moment,
everything he is can be read in those eyes, glowing like blue stars,
before it all freezes into a sneer. Does he know, how beautiful I find
his emotions, and how much I despise that bloodless mask? Is that why
he so often wears it?
My blond fiend attacks me again, and I meet him strike for strike, and
for the blink of an eye it feels as if this fight that has been going
on since the beginning of my time in the darkness will never end, and
suddenly one of us makes a mistake, everything is over, and I grab his
hands, capturing and preserving them in my own.
"Che. You will die tonight, Jadeite. Your defense is worthless." When
I kiss him, he tries to claw me eyes out, which I find very rude.
"Hate you, bastard," he mumbles, the insult that is so old it has
turned into a endearment making my heart constrict with something
close to pain for a second. We have no emotional ties between us,
except dusty hate that another dares to threaten the position we have.
I am not so weak that I will miss his willowy body, or his deep voice.
He will die, I know it and yet I don't care... how could there ever be
something between monsters like us, except this purely physical
relief?
We share another kiss, soft lips pressed together with a desperate
urgency, and I can't remember who began this round of our game anew.
This comfortable and familiar game, that this time has taken a few
unexpected and unwanted turns.
For my illusionist to calm down so quickly is very unusual, and with
sudden clarity I realize that he must be truly terrified of the
future, of Beryl's disgusting threat and the upcoming fight by
midnight.
Has he already give up? No, not Jadeite. He will accept his end no
more resigned than I would.
Hands are wonderful, beautiful parts of our bodies, especially when
they are slim, deadly and belong to a certain blond-haired man who is
oh, so very skilled with them!
They're wandering deeper, leaving a trail of fire as they go, and I
must stop it for a moment, stop him and kiss those soft fingers before
I can let them go back to their work.
In this somber, dark place two damned spirits shouldn't be allowed to
feel such comfort in each other, but as I groan helplessly all caution
and animosity flies away.
"Like it?" he questions as his hands reach their final destination,
and my world begins to gently spin. Or is he just pushing me over,
reclaiming the leading position again? I don't know, couldn't care
less. Let him have his fun the short time he has left...
"No," I whisper, "should I?" Then I must kiss him, urgently, before he
causes some permanent damage.
"Liar!" The fire has returned to him, and this time it is not fueled
only by hate. I nod, and sweetly ask him to prove me wrong.
Heat is building, coming close to uncomfortable because it is such a
rare warmth, that I will never get familiar with, and I know I must
taste him, now! Not just that gorgeous blood, no, all of his clean,
humanlike and yet so alien body... my hands roam over what feels like
muscles and bone, feeling and enjoying the perfection. Even as the
rational part of me knows that it is only Metallia's handiwork, my
weak emotional self cries that he is exquisite in himself, and I must
agree.
Then, at once, we release each other, and the only contact between our
bodies is my mouth at his throat, before I moan with need and he
crushes me closer, answering in the same way. Hearts beating, hands
exploring, eyes admiring, and still I need more.
My concentration is wavering, and our lights flicker and die in tact
with his tongue on my nipples. Who needs light anyway, I know him from
head to heel and as the friction between us grow, I gasp for air,
preparing to forget everything except the moment. And then he looks at
me, painfilled eyes overflowing with helpless rage drilling a deep
hole inside of me and I know this is the last time. Ever.
He continues, and I touch him, but the purpose has changed. I am
desperate to imprint all of him onto my fingertips, for the day when I
no longer have my... ah, what is he? Lover, enemy, companion, rival,
all of this and more. My most hated friend.
And yet, even as I begin to twist under him, clawing and moaning
incoherent words of encouragement, I know that I'll never help him,
that even with our past casting its shadow over the present, it's not
enough to awaken this dead heart.
And he'll die, and I should be happy because a competitor for power
will have lost his place in favor of me, and I'll be so... Stars, I'll
be alone?
Hard breathing, and as a trembling hand strokes my face I my eyes
open. How can anything born in darkness have such a glorious light as
his evil?
"Stop it," he croaks, voice not obeying properly anymore, "Stop
thinking, Nephrite." And then he slips lower, kneeling between my
legs, fingers touching everywhere.
"Then," and it takes all my strength to manage these words, "stop me."
He begins to kiss me there, and more blood is spilled as my teeth
break the newly healed skin of my lips. Why must he be so slow? But it
is so wonderful, he knows me better then I do after all these years,
and at the moment I would allow anything. And then he tastes me, and I
buckle helplessly under his strong hands, that have had so many
wonderful years of practice on me, years that will end too son... but
not before he has done use of that practice, not before he has torn me
to pieces with his mouth and hands and the impossible warmth that
hides inside of him, in hands, lips, skin and beauty, a warmth that
burns when his teeth lightly scrape along me, a heat that comforts
when his mouth envelopes me.
I scream, and if I hadn't I would have burned up, and it all feels
so... very... good.
"I refuse to die tomorrow!" he screams, shattering the fiery dream, as
he sits up, leaving me needing, wanting, craving his body. Damn that
blond fool, may he be torn to pieces slowly, and let me watch and
enjoy all of it! Great Metallia, I hate him!
Jadeite is hovering above me, his own need as evident as mine, and
still he refuses to give in, clings instead to fury and fear, and I
must kiss him, even if it means that I'll have to force him down.
But slowly, he begins to answer, and the fire never went away after
all, the future is unimportant and nothing matters except these
touches, these lazy kisses and fierce strokes, until he with a
agonized howl that could be passion or fear, or both, collapses
against me.
Something whet is dripping onto my shoulder where his head rests
against me, and it is almost enough to awake the forgotten feeling of
compassion. Almost, but I'm burning and I want him and I don't have
time for this right now!
"I wont die," a half-choked voice whispers.
"It's not like it's up to you!" I snarl, angered beyond reason that he
is breaking the pact. Why must you attempt to force feelings inside of
me?
Jadeite wipes away the escaped tear, and his familiar control returns,
hiding fear and rage behind a grim smile.
"Lie to me, you bastard. Lie to me one last time," he asks, and then
thank the stars, I feel his mouth descend on me again.
Can't answer him, can't think at all. Just feel him, need him,
immediately.
"You're... ahh, not... not die!" I finally manage to gasp. Someone is
shouting, I clutch his hand to avoid drowning in passion and then he
brings it to an end, oh, please, let the stars explode around me,
yes... yes!
After a minor eternity, I realize that I'm staring at the ceiling , no
longer gasping for breath. My blond lover is lying beside me, his hair
a sweaty mass, half-shading of his face.
I cautiously stretch out a hand, and wipe away a few glistening drops
from his lips, feeling a small kiss touch me just as I'm finished
wiping him off.
The need is sated, and I'm feeling generous at the moment.
"Want me to lie some more for you?"
Ah, stars, have my brain gone as slack as my body? Since when do I
ever offer Jadeite something he asks for?
No answer, he merely turns around, and lies there with wide empty
eyes. So still he is, that if it weren't for the slight rising and
sinking of his chest, I'd have reason to wonder...
Cold as ice again, are you?
We lie in the darkness for several heartbeats, hearing each others
breathing. He is glaring at the ceiling so intensely that I begin to
wonder what those unfortunate stones ever did to him, and I'm looking
at Jadeite, waiting. I'm certain he'll talk sooner or later, never had
as much patience as I.
Well then, finally.
Blue eyes close, and he mumbles a few incoherent words. I wait a while
longer, before asking him to repeat himself.
"I said, go ahead if you feel like it."
Slight confusion, before I remember my earlier question.
When did he become so weak, to give himself over to fear? I feel a
kind of pity for this so-called king, but also contempt. We did stand
together once, the glorious four, and if one can fall...
I have begun to talk without really giving act on my words. It's too
easy, spin a tail of honor and glory; a tale that doesn't end in the
evening come, with a silly little girl's triumph at a barren field.
"When you return, bringing the head of this Sailor Moon, queen Beryl
will be very pleased. She'll even promote you, and at the same time
get ride of that little good-for-nothing rat of Kunzite's. Actually,
she'll remove them both, and I'll take the first rang with you as
second."
A harsh laughter, over the impossibility of it all and that I can't
forget my old vendetta with our resident pretty boy. So what? If he
wants a lie, I'll give him an immense one.
"And then, the other girl will come after you..."
"Other girls. They are three now," he murmurs.
"One twit more or less, who cares. It only means you'll have more
energy to present to the great Metallia once you've drained them, and
following the removal of the children, we will take over the world.
And our great mistress will awaken from her sleep, observe our
progress and grant us all of her dark magic."
As Jadeite laughingly asks what follows, I realize need a good end.
Horridly cliché as this tale is, I'm too much of a story-teller to
just leave it hanging.
"The demon will be so pleased in her dark heart with our work, that
she removes queen Beryl and send us out in the universe as conquerors.
We will travel far, extinguish all light we meet and then..." I'm at a
loss, for in this dreamed future there are no enemies left to kill,
are there?
"...and then I'll tell you that I love you. The end."
Dead silence, his laughter ended so abruptly that I wonder if he's
choked on something. Then, in phase with the blood that rushes to my
face, I realize exactly how I ended my little lie. He mouthing
something, to low even for my ears to catch, but I'm certain that my
friend is using up every curse he's learned over the years. To speak
is difficult, because my lips are crackling dry, but I swallow the
bitterness and smile. False innocence.
"Was it a good lie?"
Sitting up, he stares at me, and I could never read all that flickers
in his icy eyes in this moment.
Then he nods, hesitantly at first but soon the familiar arrogance has
returned.
"Quite entertaining, but a bit exaggerated. And now," he drapes
himself across me, hot breath playing over my throat, "I do believe
it's my turn again."
A grin flies over my features, I begin to feel that special longing
grow inside. There's no objection from his side as I give him a
smoldering kiss, but as his hands begin to explore me, I can help but
whisper a few spiteful words.
Every syllable works like a brush that paints a tiny fraction of
twisting, screaming emotions on an icy canvas... What would you do, if
I weren't lying?
I enjoy this, to watch his helpless confusion, and even though I try
to stop it, knowing he'll realize my game, an expression that must
look truly wicked come over me. But for once, this man that I have
shared an existence with in eons, reacts differently as I expected.
Neither does he hide inside his uncaring shell, nor does his temper
ignite, leading to yet another of our battles. Seemingly absentminded,
he presses the bloody hand against my lips, before giving me a chaste
kiss between the eyes.
"I hate you, for now and eternity. You- you're always such bastard!"
I press a finger against his chest, pushing him away to see his eyes,
but they're hidden by untamed bangs. A shame, I'd love to see his
expression right now.
"And you, my dear Jadeite, are a fool. A dead fool."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I have discovered something new, a feature of his appearance that I
have overseen all these millennia... How can his iris contain so many
colors, all glistening like precious jewels?
Such beauty, and yet in his eyes there is nothing but the same old
malice as in his overconfident smile.
It doesn't fit.
Nothing fits anymore.
One of us broke the familiar pattern, and the time is too short to
pick up the pieces and properly arrange them again. *My* time is to
short, for this and everything else.
Our kisses deepen, but I can't let the physical contact wash away my
thoughts. The careless words from before twirl in my head, and along
with the heat that Nephrite wakes inside, I feel drunk. Can you get
drunk on despair?
I need him.
No, not him, I'll never need this lying, back-stabbing bastard! I'd
rather die... I'd rather die then even for a moment rely on the king
of stars.
What could anyone need from him? Not his uncaring stars, not his
taunts nor any of the worthless lies that spill from his mouth.
Just his body, immediately, anyone's body to forget the flaming queen
and that stupid child and tomorrow night. Great Metallia, tomorrow
night...
"I hate you," I whisper again, and somehow all my emotions fit inside
those words.
Kisses deepen, and my fingers softly explores him. He's so hot, so
soft.
An illusion, it's all an illusion, but I can't care with Nephrite's
warmth around my fingers, haven't got the energy to fear the future
anymore.
We're growling, biting and clawing at each other, for a moment letting
out the beasts that hide inside us. His eyes are burning with fury and
lust, it feels as if I'm kissing a spirit of fire.
Pressed close together, our minds are for once following the same
goal, and we have found the ancient rhythm.
Nephrite moans slowly when my second finger enters him, and the small
sounds excite me beyond belief... I still have this power over him,
even if everything else is falling apart.
What twisted power might he have over me? Too much, certainly, if
something as physical as this can drive my heartbeat so wild that I
wonder if my chest will spring apart.
"Nhh..." No words, no clear thoughts, they have all escaped me, I only
know that he's closing himself for me, and a sharp hiss escapes one of
us.
Somehow, I manage to loosen my hand from the tangles of his hair, and
hold the half-healed wound before him, silently suggesting...
A shudder, a smile, and then his teeth tear my flesh open, again and
again until that red blood he so adores is flowing. I must kiss him
before this scream breaks free, and nothing but need exists, the need
for him. I must have him, conquer my crystalline lover in all ways
possible!
Red spots have stained his strong chest, and I adoringly taste my
blood and his sweat. So good, how can he be so good when he's nothing
but a cruel bastard?
And then, with slow thrusts and wanton sounds, he urges me on even
more and time grows too short. Touch him, have him! My lips taste
Nephrite, I'm growing frantic, just touch him everywhere, smear blood
deep inside as well as over the soft flesh, and he is like ice set
aflame... burning, we are burning together.
Open yourself to me, yes, let me feel this, give me the only thing
you've ever given me and be for a moment my most precious star in this
eternal darkness, oh please, don't ever stop moving, never make my
screams come to a halt, burn for me, with me!
That you have this power over me is wrong, that is why I hate you,
hate you, hate you, that is why I need you like nothing else, your
tight heat that drives me delirious with want and anger and for a
blinding moment you're everything, yes, perfection, and then I
remember that I'll die, and nothing matters anymore because I'll die!
I'm sobbing, screaming as I come deep inside you, and the world is
nothing but you, me and burning red blood and we're crying and
screaming with one voice, finally, and then we're laughing together,
yes, yes, perfect...
Tired throughout my bones, I'm lying atop of Nephrite and my breathing
is slowly returning to normal. He's holding me, crushing me closer,
and I know he's smiling.
"Shadows and emptiness," is that me talking? Yes, must be, "I'll be
damned if I die!"
"Too late..." his voice sounds as tired as I feel, but despite that he
pushes me away slightly, forcing me to lift my head and look at him.
Ah, the old pride of the starmaster, can't allow himself to stay like
this, must test me and taunt me again. Doesn't matter, I feel to good
to care right now, it's all so good here and now, and can hardly
remember that anything else exists. Just passionate fire and then this
warm glow, and I wonder if I'll ever need more?
So beautiful from afar, so dangerous up close; goes for us all but
especially for Nephrite. I whisper this in his ear, telling him how
I've always seen him, my hated lover... a burning nova he is, the
dying star that draws everything nearby with itself into hell.
A kiss, he is caressing me with such uncharacteristic mildness and his
eyes don't reveal a thing. And, why must he break this peace, still
with a innocent smile on his lips, he writes something in the blood on
my hand.
I stare at it, realization comes crashing down... yes, death and dusk,
both are nearing for me. The harsh world has returned and I smile
ironically, knowing what he must be thinking. King of stars or not, he
isn't the one who will go up in flames for a last time before the sun
rises again.
So familiar in its deepness, his voice sooths me, but even I can hear
the hidden cruelty and see the complete lack of compassion in his soft
smile. In the end, we are all alone, alone in cold darkness.
"Afraid?"
I don't answer... don't have to.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
So, that's it... Please give C&C ^.^ Send it to the ML or directly to
dancing_moon@hotmail.com. Thanks!
Jadeite: I can't believe you actually made this crap avaible for the
public!
Dancing Moon: Oh, come on, you know you liked it ^_~
J: *growls* You're dead, little girl!
DM: *whisper* Haven't we heard something like that before?
KA-ZAPP
Eeep! What are you trying to do, fry me?
J: Exactly! *evil glare* So stand still and die!
DM: *sweatdrop* ... nice Jeddy, calm down... *backs away*
Nephrite: Going somewhere? *twirls Starsword* I have a few things I'd
like to discuss with you... or rather with your corpse.
DM: o_0; Since when are you a part of my imagined world? *ducks for
another blast* Itai! I think this is a good place to put an end to
this fic... right now!
J: Oh no, you don't! *begins to call a few airplanes*
N: Exactly! I'll kill you first!
DM: Shimatta! *takes off running, followed by two very pissed
Shitennou*
//THE END\\
Series: Sailor Moon
Author: Dancing Moon
Contact: dancing_moon@hotmail.com or http://go.to/dancing_moon
Warnings: Yaoi! Lime, dark, decently morbid... Probably very OOC as
well. And some blood, but no real violence.
Feedback: Yes, onegai! This is my first attempt at something even
resembling a lemon, and I'd be happy to get advice on where to improve
^_^ All sorts of C&C is therefore welcomed... but flames will be
responded to in the same mature fashion.
Disclaimer: Sailor Moon (c) Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha Ltd. and Toei
Animations. Please don't sue me, I'm just a poor student.
Authors note: I despise those Jadeite as a hyper-uke fics, and
therefore decided to try my hand at writing about the (non-existing)
relationship between the first two kings.
Musical inspiration to this piece came from Ricky Martin and David
Bowie.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Pre-Funeral Celebrations
A funeral is the ceremony that is held when the body of someone who
has died is buried or cremated
- Cobuild English Learner's Dictionary
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Aged stone above me, dusky cold surrounding me. My eyes strain to
discern the broken patterns in the ceiling far above, but there is not
enough light, not even for my eyes though they carry their own evil
illumination.
Doesn't matter, I know this room well enough to name every single
spot, discoloring and tiny crack on the walls and roof. Even now, when
I strain to ignore what lies outside of the warm, closed-off space
that is the bed where I lie, I can't help to hear the slithery sounds
of shadows around me, and I come to wonder if this is how the inside
of my heart looks like. If I still own one, which is in no way
certain.
We live comfortably in Metallia's shadow, She who was trapped in a
void of darkness through the blessed and cursed and wonderfully
painful power of the White Moon queen.
That one day, that eternal second while we burned, the moment we were
both killed and reborn, is the only memory of the time Before that is
still by me, and no matter how I scream when the nightmares wake me,
no matter how he laughs when I try to explain what the pain means to
me, I always feel joyful to remember the short, almost non-existing
moment before, before the Light turned into eternal Darkness.
Ah, but then, I thought I wouldn't have to cling to the old, but still
glorious, defeat, because we insignificant servants to the great demon
found a way out, a return to daylight. I was...
I was the first to take that leap through emptiness, the first to
leave shadows and damp caves, and I was greeted by a fresh jewel
called Earth. Such a blue planet, carrier of life, the planet that is
our birthright. The rich land which we wished to fill with the same
dead darkness that has surrounded us all for ages and seeped deep into
our minds, the new home which would become a symbol of evil, like a
monstrous hearth beating in the universe, filled with corrupted life.
That planet should have fallen easily before me!
No matter how many fires you ignite, the darkness is always there
first and in the end, black emptiness is all that remain. This
threatening failure, this chance of a defeat can not be true, it is
too impossible. And yet, and yet, I am beginning to feel...
"Afraid?"
His deep voice always make me loose my calm. Sometimes, when he
breaths small, but too important, words into my ear, I shudder and
wonder if I can truly stand him another minute, or if I will burn up
with passion and rage. Sometimes, as in this very moment, when his
voice has that a harsh, acidic tone I tense and wonder if I can
survive another moment with that voice hurting me, or if I will be
consumed and destroyed by my own hate.
He is a demon, and I should never have shown him my weaknesses because
now he can play them like the finest instrument, and he never fails to
know how and where his mocking laughter will hurt the most, where it
will leave scars that last for eternity. Bastard.
"Of course not," I laugh haughtily, as if I didn't have a single care
in the world. "They might be able to handle youmas, but one of us?
Never." Even as I form the words, I feel their truth and know them to
be real, because am I not one of the four kings? And is it not so,
that we are invincible, that our darkness is an impenetrable shield?
Yes, that is the truth, the only truth! So... why do you wish that the
evening will never come, mighty king?
"Little girls, trying to stand against me even as they cry over lost
love and the unfair world. Why should I even consider fear?"
Shadows all around me. In this room, not even the eerie glow of
unforgivable sins and dreadful deeds that fills our kingdom can
penetrate the darkness. The black curtain shields me from him, but I
know Nephrite is shaking his head, as I feel the waves of his
ridiculous long hair tickle my arm. Does he seriously think my failure
is so predestined that I can't extinguish those children, or is he
just restless?
"You should fear. Because tonight you will die."
There is no threat in his voice, no hatred, only cool knowledge that
makes my blood boil with fury.
"Your existence will come to an end, and no living being will miss
you. You will die, mourned by no one and soon you will be forgotten,
because you have proved yourself weak."
I growl as he falls silent, and the alluring idea to suffocate him
with the pillow flitters through my head. But I banish the thought,
likewise the even more tempting idea to crush his windpipe with my
bare hands.
Sarcasm makes my voice thick, anger gives it strength and I know I
sound absolutely ghastly. I hope it makes him uncomfortable, for
Metallia knows he deserves it.
"You just had the sudden urge to tell the truth today, or what?"
I bite my tongue. May he be damned. That was not intended to sound
like it did, I wanted to tell him how he repulses me, I wanted him to
know that I've never trusted anything he has told me through all these
years! Shadows and emptiness... Why did it come out like an insurance
of my fears?
The control I have over my emotions, the way I've always been able to
suppress those weakening impulses is something I am proud of, and now
the control completely eludes me. But then, it is not every day that
so clearly threatens to be your last, is it?
The feel of his hand touching me, playing with a lock of my hair, is
unexpected but not displeasing. Nephrite was always fascinated with
the way I refuse to grow my unruly blond locks like is custom in our
kingdom, and as the fingers carefully work on a tousle, I realize I
can clearly hear his heartbeat. At least one of us has a heart, even
if it's long dead.
"How do you know I was telling the truth?"
My eyes close, and instead of the ceiling I now stare at the darkness
behind my eyelids. Black always look the same, but it can feel so
different depending on the source.
I know he is telling the truth as he sees it, because the only time he
has ever stopped lying is to insult someone. But I remain still,
silent. There is no need for him to know that, and it is useful that
he has never been able to hide behind his masks when angered enough.
"Maybe I'm just playing with you, enjoying your fear," he whispers,
voice velvety, and yet dripping with acid.
Then the bastard laughs, and the grip in my hair turns painful, the
gentle hand at once transformed into a claw that attempts to hold my
entire self in its painful grip.
Too slowly, and completely of its own accord, my hand begins to wander
towards his chest. Cold and so smooth, like a finely polished crystal
it feels. The beats of his dark heart echoes through me. Evil like us
really has no right to look so gloriously attractive, but I can't say
I'm sad about it.
"Are you lying, then?"
A tilt of his head, he's distracted, even if only for an eye-blink.
When he opens his mouth to answer I use my not dismissable strength,
violently pushing him backwards. Our powers clash as he fights me, but
this is not something I will give up. Maybe he feels it, or his stars
told him it was not worth the effort, because a moment later I am
lying atop of that hard crystal body, and now I am the one to laugh.
Every words is precisely pronounced, sharply cut off but delivered
faster then he can interrupt. "Whether I'm afraid or not, is none of
your damn business!"
Through my anger, I enjoy him, and my hands languidly wander over his
sharp face. To feel these familiar features... it's good. In dimness,
he shines like one of the nightlights on the sky, in the absence of
sun or moon only his gleaming eyes can be seen and their aesthetic
value is not marred by the false body.
Created by Metallia's hatred, we are, and even if I adore and admire
his crystalline flesh, it makes me even more aware of Her... too
distracting, the enveloping dark with only these twin sapphires
shining is so much better.
In the shadows that protects us, inside the black world where we
exist, we appear almost alive.
His breath on my face tells me that he is staring, open-mouthed and
surprised, at me. For a moment we are both still, our mutual
heartbeats the only sound in the entire kingdom, and the he hisses.
His gleaming eyes turn into angry slits, and the dark body buckles
violently under me, furiously attempting to break my grip.
No such luck for the bastard today.
Calming down a bit, Nephrite seems to be hesitating about which way to
take, and I know he wants to see what I have planned before
responding. I do not intend to let him wait for long.
Mirroring his earlier actions, I take a doubtlessly painful grip of
his auburn tresses, twisting them slowly to keep him down.
I bite my lower lip to hide a small chuckle, but he must have felt the
shaking of my body. His dismissing glare makes me believe so, at
least.
"Feisty, aren't we?"
The lord of the west is completely still for a moment, making me
wonder if I might finally have won our ancient battle, then he
snorts... and bites me! Sharp teeth pierce the skin of my right hand,
and the surprised look in my eyes must have shone even through the
gloom.
Catlike, his tongue flickers lightly over me hand, and he closes his
eyes as if to savor the taste.
"You know," the words are hushed and I must strain to hear them, "that
will be a shame."
Baffled confusion, the bastard takes advantage of my momentary daze to
gnaw off one more piece of the flesh. Damn him, but his teeth are
sharp.
I yank free, and smack him lightly across the forehead. Why is he
acting so strange, why isn't he playing by our age-old rules, that we
both follow even if we have never spoken them loud?
Pleasure, pain, all is allowed... except emotions or actions that
cannot be forgotten when we step outside the corroded doors again.
And then, Nephrite is smearing the scarlet liquid all over his face,
his hot body pressing closer to me until my cheeks are as red as my
injured hand.
"All this, all of this..." he licks my hand, and a lazy speculation
about how I might taste to him floats through my head, before
Nephrite's voice brings me back to the moment.
"All this beautiful red blood, staining the ground for no reason,
spilling over the Earth during a short moment until Metallia takes
back what belongs to her. And then even this," he deepens the wound
yet again but I don't bother to care anymore, because his movements
and touches are too soft to be true, "will be gone. No more Jadeite.
No more of your sparkling red blood."
Thoughts are difficult to grip, but I force mind and mouth to
cooperate, because certain false assumptions are too severe to stay
uncorrected.
"I absolutely refuse to bleed, whether or not I'm dead by tomorrow
night," I crisply inform him. "It would be far to shameful to end my
life in stained clothing."
At this he actually laughs quietly, which angers me slightly. My words
were not intended as a joke. Sincerely, to die covered in blood like a
slaughtered animal, that is below a king.
But I don't feel like trying to explain that to Nephrite, especially
since I doubt he could understand. But this laughter annoys me, and so
I firmly press my lips against his to finally silence him.
"Could it be, that you are done tasting my red blood now, hmm?"
The question hangs in the air for several heartbeats, before I go on
speaking, my voice having sunk several octaves all by itself.
"I just wonder, if you are ready to, ah, go on? If I'll die tomorrow,
and all that," I finish lightly. He will not have the opportunity to
notice my fears once again.
Again, there is nothing but silence. Nephrite twists so that his hair
shades all facial features, but two eyes glisten through the locks
like dark flames, frozen in the moment. In the next instant, his power
is rising, fast and threateningly. Reflexes honed by millennia of
dangerous existence suddenly react, and my shields are up before the
Star King is half finished with whatever spell he has activated.
Is he going to try and kill me in some twisted attempt to win Beryl's
favor, I wonder, as sit up, crouching lightly to protect myself.
But no, such an attack is not something I must fear. He has never been
the kind to grovel by her feet, and I begin to recognize the structure
of his magical weave.
Tiny, but sharp, lights fill our chamber, and the image immediately
brings the night-sky of the Earth into mind. Stars... it's always
those damn stars. If I had a heart to feel pain in, it would be
twisting in agonized jealousy by now, considering how much attention
he spends the unfeeling, unimportant suns of far away.
His mirage caught my attention for a moment, but I've seen and created
more impressive illusions innumerable times before. His voice on the
other hand, the way he turns every word into a deep trap of seduction,
that is something I will never get tired of, no matter how many times
he baits my senses with it.
"I do believe I'm offended. Here I actually confess that I might miss
a part of you... not a very large part, admittedly, nor will I mourn
it for long. But couldn't you have the decency to try and return the,"
he hesitates, and for a moment the surface of a handsome and suave man
dwindles, showing the dark predator beneath until he regains his cool
again, "the compliment?"
Now I understand him, and a fountain of emotions, memories and desires
spring up in my mind. Stolen blood can be used in several dark
conjurations, but if it's given... to freely sacrifice the essence of
your self is a huge risk. But then, he seriously thinks I'll be dead
by tomorrow, doesn't he?
An eyebrow rises slowly, and in that moment the gift turned into a
challenge. The balance has returned, and with a snort I inform
Nephrite that he is one sick bastard. Shrugging, he pulls me closer
and begin to kiss me. He has an odd metallic taste... was it so I
tasted to him, when he took the first drip of my blood. His will taste
different, I know, and I begin to wonder what beyond the color
separates our life-fluid.
When I bite down on those yielding lips, he winces slightly, but after
that he is completely still. A strong smell whirls around us, driving
me half delirious and teeth, lips, tongue, all of me must taste him
and touch him. Not like human blood at all, but I could never mistake
these dark green drops for anything but what it is.
Pulling away, just enough to moan a few words in my ear, Nephrite
mumbles something about us both being sick, and I can't help but grin.
He does speak the truth only when he is insulting someone.
"So let's be sick a while longer, eh?" I whisper, again nuzzling his
sore lips, but much more softly this time.
His taste is both ancient as darkness itself and fresh like the small
illuminated specks of magic he has created around us, and I wonder if
it is nothing more then a result of Metallia's magic that also gave
his blood this odd color, or if he might even have a tiny piece of
soul hidden somewhere which allows him this purity. Not inside his
heart, no, that I've come to know completely, and it is a dried up and
dead as my own, but maybe... maybe far away, floating and resting
among the stars, lies Nephrite's last fragment of soul and dreams and
light. Why else would he adore them so?
Or it is in his skilled hands, that touch me with a gentleness that is
almost painful following the rough treatment, as we begin to move in
the familiar rhythm, the only place where we can truly meet beyond
battle.
"Mhm... so, am I acceptable?"
On such a moronic question, there is really only one kind of answer.
"Actually, you taste a bit like," I search my vocabulary for something
green that will annoy, but not insult, "yes, like apples."
In the artificial starlight, I can actually see the reflection of the
smug smile playing around my lips in his eyes for a moment, before
they flash with anger and disturb the image. How beautifully his nails
shine as he slaps me, and the ringing tone in my ears is an
interesting contrast to the feelings that are beginning to stir deep
in my groin.
This time, I don't attempt to fight the reflex to strangle him...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
We must look like wild animals, rolling among the sheets, clawing and
hitting. Jadeite fights as he always does, viciously and completely
focused on the battle. And because of this, because he always get so
caught up in his own games that he doesn't see the danger behind him,
he will be dead in a matter of hours.
It is also the reason that he doesn't notice how I slowly maneuver us
closer to the edge of the huge bed until I, with a victorious laugh,
push him down onto the clammy stone floor.
A moment passes, the only sounds my soft laughter and his hiss of
anger, before he begins to curse wildly. Please do, let me see the
fire hidden beneath your ice...
Sitting up, he attacks me with a bolt of dark energy, that harmlessly
fizzes over my head as I smoothly dodge.
"Metallia damn you!"
His sudden outburst is filled with hate and passion, how am I supposed
to stop the laughter bubbling up with renewed force? For a moment,
everything he is can be read in those eyes, glowing like blue stars,
before it all freezes into a sneer. Does he know, how beautiful I find
his emotions, and how much I despise that bloodless mask? Is that why
he so often wears it?
My blond fiend attacks me again, and I meet him strike for strike, and
for the blink of an eye it feels as if this fight that has been going
on since the beginning of my time in the darkness will never end, and
suddenly one of us makes a mistake, everything is over, and I grab his
hands, capturing and preserving them in my own.
"Che. You will die tonight, Jadeite. Your defense is worthless." When
I kiss him, he tries to claw me eyes out, which I find very rude.
"Hate you, bastard," he mumbles, the insult that is so old it has
turned into a endearment making my heart constrict with something
close to pain for a second. We have no emotional ties between us,
except dusty hate that another dares to threaten the position we have.
I am not so weak that I will miss his willowy body, or his deep voice.
He will die, I know it and yet I don't care... how could there ever be
something between monsters like us, except this purely physical
relief?
We share another kiss, soft lips pressed together with a desperate
urgency, and I can't remember who began this round of our game anew.
This comfortable and familiar game, that this time has taken a few
unexpected and unwanted turns.
For my illusionist to calm down so quickly is very unusual, and with
sudden clarity I realize that he must be truly terrified of the
future, of Beryl's disgusting threat and the upcoming fight by
midnight.
Has he already give up? No, not Jadeite. He will accept his end no
more resigned than I would.
Hands are wonderful, beautiful parts of our bodies, especially when
they are slim, deadly and belong to a certain blond-haired man who is
oh, so very skilled with them!
They're wandering deeper, leaving a trail of fire as they go, and I
must stop it for a moment, stop him and kiss those soft fingers before
I can let them go back to their work.
In this somber, dark place two damned spirits shouldn't be allowed to
feel such comfort in each other, but as I groan helplessly all caution
and animosity flies away.
"Like it?" he questions as his hands reach their final destination,
and my world begins to gently spin. Or is he just pushing me over,
reclaiming the leading position again? I don't know, couldn't care
less. Let him have his fun the short time he has left...
"No," I whisper, "should I?" Then I must kiss him, urgently, before he
causes some permanent damage.
"Liar!" The fire has returned to him, and this time it is not fueled
only by hate. I nod, and sweetly ask him to prove me wrong.
Heat is building, coming close to uncomfortable because it is such a
rare warmth, that I will never get familiar with, and I know I must
taste him, now! Not just that gorgeous blood, no, all of his clean,
humanlike and yet so alien body... my hands roam over what feels like
muscles and bone, feeling and enjoying the perfection. Even as the
rational part of me knows that it is only Metallia's handiwork, my
weak emotional self cries that he is exquisite in himself, and I must
agree.
Then, at once, we release each other, and the only contact between our
bodies is my mouth at his throat, before I moan with need and he
crushes me closer, answering in the same way. Hearts beating, hands
exploring, eyes admiring, and still I need more.
My concentration is wavering, and our lights flicker and die in tact
with his tongue on my nipples. Who needs light anyway, I know him from
head to heel and as the friction between us grow, I gasp for air,
preparing to forget everything except the moment. And then he looks at
me, painfilled eyes overflowing with helpless rage drilling a deep
hole inside of me and I know this is the last time. Ever.
He continues, and I touch him, but the purpose has changed. I am
desperate to imprint all of him onto my fingertips, for the day when I
no longer have my... ah, what is he? Lover, enemy, companion, rival,
all of this and more. My most hated friend.
And yet, even as I begin to twist under him, clawing and moaning
incoherent words of encouragement, I know that I'll never help him,
that even with our past casting its shadow over the present, it's not
enough to awaken this dead heart.
And he'll die, and I should be happy because a competitor for power
will have lost his place in favor of me, and I'll be so... Stars, I'll
be alone?
Hard breathing, and as a trembling hand strokes my face I my eyes
open. How can anything born in darkness have such a glorious light as
his evil?
"Stop it," he croaks, voice not obeying properly anymore, "Stop
thinking, Nephrite." And then he slips lower, kneeling between my
legs, fingers touching everywhere.
"Then," and it takes all my strength to manage these words, "stop me."
He begins to kiss me there, and more blood is spilled as my teeth
break the newly healed skin of my lips. Why must he be so slow? But it
is so wonderful, he knows me better then I do after all these years,
and at the moment I would allow anything. And then he tastes me, and I
buckle helplessly under his strong hands, that have had so many
wonderful years of practice on me, years that will end too son... but
not before he has done use of that practice, not before he has torn me
to pieces with his mouth and hands and the impossible warmth that
hides inside of him, in hands, lips, skin and beauty, a warmth that
burns when his teeth lightly scrape along me, a heat that comforts
when his mouth envelopes me.
I scream, and if I hadn't I would have burned up, and it all feels
so... very... good.
"I refuse to die tomorrow!" he screams, shattering the fiery dream, as
he sits up, leaving me needing, wanting, craving his body. Damn that
blond fool, may he be torn to pieces slowly, and let me watch and
enjoy all of it! Great Metallia, I hate him!
Jadeite is hovering above me, his own need as evident as mine, and
still he refuses to give in, clings instead to fury and fear, and I
must kiss him, even if it means that I'll have to force him down.
But slowly, he begins to answer, and the fire never went away after
all, the future is unimportant and nothing matters except these
touches, these lazy kisses and fierce strokes, until he with a
agonized howl that could be passion or fear, or both, collapses
against me.
Something whet is dripping onto my shoulder where his head rests
against me, and it is almost enough to awake the forgotten feeling of
compassion. Almost, but I'm burning and I want him and I don't have
time for this right now!
"I wont die," a half-choked voice whispers.
"It's not like it's up to you!" I snarl, angered beyond reason that he
is breaking the pact. Why must you attempt to force feelings inside of
me?
Jadeite wipes away the escaped tear, and his familiar control returns,
hiding fear and rage behind a grim smile.
"Lie to me, you bastard. Lie to me one last time," he asks, and then
thank the stars, I feel his mouth descend on me again.
Can't answer him, can't think at all. Just feel him, need him,
immediately.
"You're... ahh, not... not die!" I finally manage to gasp. Someone is
shouting, I clutch his hand to avoid drowning in passion and then he
brings it to an end, oh, please, let the stars explode around me,
yes... yes!
After a minor eternity, I realize that I'm staring at the ceiling , no
longer gasping for breath. My blond lover is lying beside me, his hair
a sweaty mass, half-shading of his face.
I cautiously stretch out a hand, and wipe away a few glistening drops
from his lips, feeling a small kiss touch me just as I'm finished
wiping him off.
The need is sated, and I'm feeling generous at the moment.
"Want me to lie some more for you?"
Ah, stars, have my brain gone as slack as my body? Since when do I
ever offer Jadeite something he asks for?
No answer, he merely turns around, and lies there with wide empty
eyes. So still he is, that if it weren't for the slight rising and
sinking of his chest, I'd have reason to wonder...
Cold as ice again, are you?
We lie in the darkness for several heartbeats, hearing each others
breathing. He is glaring at the ceiling so intensely that I begin to
wonder what those unfortunate stones ever did to him, and I'm looking
at Jadeite, waiting. I'm certain he'll talk sooner or later, never had
as much patience as I.
Well then, finally.
Blue eyes close, and he mumbles a few incoherent words. I wait a while
longer, before asking him to repeat himself.
"I said, go ahead if you feel like it."
Slight confusion, before I remember my earlier question.
When did he become so weak, to give himself over to fear? I feel a
kind of pity for this so-called king, but also contempt. We did stand
together once, the glorious four, and if one can fall...
I have begun to talk without really giving act on my words. It's too
easy, spin a tail of honor and glory; a tale that doesn't end in the
evening come, with a silly little girl's triumph at a barren field.
"When you return, bringing the head of this Sailor Moon, queen Beryl
will be very pleased. She'll even promote you, and at the same time
get ride of that little good-for-nothing rat of Kunzite's. Actually,
she'll remove them both, and I'll take the first rang with you as
second."
A harsh laughter, over the impossibility of it all and that I can't
forget my old vendetta with our resident pretty boy. So what? If he
wants a lie, I'll give him an immense one.
"And then, the other girl will come after you..."
"Other girls. They are three now," he murmurs.
"One twit more or less, who cares. It only means you'll have more
energy to present to the great Metallia once you've drained them, and
following the removal of the children, we will take over the world.
And our great mistress will awaken from her sleep, observe our
progress and grant us all of her dark magic."
As Jadeite laughingly asks what follows, I realize need a good end.
Horridly cliché as this tale is, I'm too much of a story-teller to
just leave it hanging.
"The demon will be so pleased in her dark heart with our work, that
she removes queen Beryl and send us out in the universe as conquerors.
We will travel far, extinguish all light we meet and then..." I'm at a
loss, for in this dreamed future there are no enemies left to kill,
are there?
"...and then I'll tell you that I love you. The end."
Dead silence, his laughter ended so abruptly that I wonder if he's
choked on something. Then, in phase with the blood that rushes to my
face, I realize exactly how I ended my little lie. He mouthing
something, to low even for my ears to catch, but I'm certain that my
friend is using up every curse he's learned over the years. To speak
is difficult, because my lips are crackling dry, but I swallow the
bitterness and smile. False innocence.
"Was it a good lie?"
Sitting up, he stares at me, and I could never read all that flickers
in his icy eyes in this moment.
Then he nods, hesitantly at first but soon the familiar arrogance has
returned.
"Quite entertaining, but a bit exaggerated. And now," he drapes
himself across me, hot breath playing over my throat, "I do believe
it's my turn again."
A grin flies over my features, I begin to feel that special longing
grow inside. There's no objection from his side as I give him a
smoldering kiss, but as his hands begin to explore me, I can help but
whisper a few spiteful words.
Every syllable works like a brush that paints a tiny fraction of
twisting, screaming emotions on an icy canvas... What would you do, if
I weren't lying?
I enjoy this, to watch his helpless confusion, and even though I try
to stop it, knowing he'll realize my game, an expression that must
look truly wicked come over me. But for once, this man that I have
shared an existence with in eons, reacts differently as I expected.
Neither does he hide inside his uncaring shell, nor does his temper
ignite, leading to yet another of our battles. Seemingly absentminded,
he presses the bloody hand against my lips, before giving me a chaste
kiss between the eyes.
"I hate you, for now and eternity. You- you're always such bastard!"
I press a finger against his chest, pushing him away to see his eyes,
but they're hidden by untamed bangs. A shame, I'd love to see his
expression right now.
"And you, my dear Jadeite, are a fool. A dead fool."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I have discovered something new, a feature of his appearance that I
have overseen all these millennia... How can his iris contain so many
colors, all glistening like precious jewels?
Such beauty, and yet in his eyes there is nothing but the same old
malice as in his overconfident smile.
It doesn't fit.
Nothing fits anymore.
One of us broke the familiar pattern, and the time is too short to
pick up the pieces and properly arrange them again. *My* time is to
short, for this and everything else.
Our kisses deepen, but I can't let the physical contact wash away my
thoughts. The careless words from before twirl in my head, and along
with the heat that Nephrite wakes inside, I feel drunk. Can you get
drunk on despair?
I need him.
No, not him, I'll never need this lying, back-stabbing bastard! I'd
rather die... I'd rather die then even for a moment rely on the king
of stars.
What could anyone need from him? Not his uncaring stars, not his
taunts nor any of the worthless lies that spill from his mouth.
Just his body, immediately, anyone's body to forget the flaming queen
and that stupid child and tomorrow night. Great Metallia, tomorrow
night...
"I hate you," I whisper again, and somehow all my emotions fit inside
those words.
Kisses deepen, and my fingers softly explores him. He's so hot, so
soft.
An illusion, it's all an illusion, but I can't care with Nephrite's
warmth around my fingers, haven't got the energy to fear the future
anymore.
We're growling, biting and clawing at each other, for a moment letting
out the beasts that hide inside us. His eyes are burning with fury and
lust, it feels as if I'm kissing a spirit of fire.
Pressed close together, our minds are for once following the same
goal, and we have found the ancient rhythm.
Nephrite moans slowly when my second finger enters him, and the small
sounds excite me beyond belief... I still have this power over him,
even if everything else is falling apart.
What twisted power might he have over me? Too much, certainly, if
something as physical as this can drive my heartbeat so wild that I
wonder if my chest will spring apart.
"Nhh..." No words, no clear thoughts, they have all escaped me, I only
know that he's closing himself for me, and a sharp hiss escapes one of
us.
Somehow, I manage to loosen my hand from the tangles of his hair, and
hold the half-healed wound before him, silently suggesting...
A shudder, a smile, and then his teeth tear my flesh open, again and
again until that red blood he so adores is flowing. I must kiss him
before this scream breaks free, and nothing but need exists, the need
for him. I must have him, conquer my crystalline lover in all ways
possible!
Red spots have stained his strong chest, and I adoringly taste my
blood and his sweat. So good, how can he be so good when he's nothing
but a cruel bastard?
And then, with slow thrusts and wanton sounds, he urges me on even
more and time grows too short. Touch him, have him! My lips taste
Nephrite, I'm growing frantic, just touch him everywhere, smear blood
deep inside as well as over the soft flesh, and he is like ice set
aflame... burning, we are burning together.
Open yourself to me, yes, let me feel this, give me the only thing
you've ever given me and be for a moment my most precious star in this
eternal darkness, oh please, don't ever stop moving, never make my
screams come to a halt, burn for me, with me!
That you have this power over me is wrong, that is why I hate you,
hate you, hate you, that is why I need you like nothing else, your
tight heat that drives me delirious with want and anger and for a
blinding moment you're everything, yes, perfection, and then I
remember that I'll die, and nothing matters anymore because I'll die!
I'm sobbing, screaming as I come deep inside you, and the world is
nothing but you, me and burning red blood and we're crying and
screaming with one voice, finally, and then we're laughing together,
yes, yes, perfect...
Tired throughout my bones, I'm lying atop of Nephrite and my breathing
is slowly returning to normal. He's holding me, crushing me closer,
and I know he's smiling.
"Shadows and emptiness," is that me talking? Yes, must be, "I'll be
damned if I die!"
"Too late..." his voice sounds as tired as I feel, but despite that he
pushes me away slightly, forcing me to lift my head and look at him.
Ah, the old pride of the starmaster, can't allow himself to stay like
this, must test me and taunt me again. Doesn't matter, I feel to good
to care right now, it's all so good here and now, and can hardly
remember that anything else exists. Just passionate fire and then this
warm glow, and I wonder if I'll ever need more?
So beautiful from afar, so dangerous up close; goes for us all but
especially for Nephrite. I whisper this in his ear, telling him how
I've always seen him, my hated lover... a burning nova he is, the
dying star that draws everything nearby with itself into hell.
A kiss, he is caressing me with such uncharacteristic mildness and his
eyes don't reveal a thing. And, why must he break this peace, still
with a innocent smile on his lips, he writes something in the blood on
my hand.
I stare at it, realization comes crashing down... yes, death and dusk,
both are nearing for me. The harsh world has returned and I smile
ironically, knowing what he must be thinking. King of stars or not, he
isn't the one who will go up in flames for a last time before the sun
rises again.
So familiar in its deepness, his voice sooths me, but even I can hear
the hidden cruelty and see the complete lack of compassion in his soft
smile. In the end, we are all alone, alone in cold darkness.
"Afraid?"
I don't answer... don't have to.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
So, that's it... Please give C&C ^.^ Send it to the ML or directly to
dancing_moon@hotmail.com. Thanks!
Jadeite: I can't believe you actually made this crap avaible for the
public!
Dancing Moon: Oh, come on, you know you liked it ^_~
J: *growls* You're dead, little girl!
DM: *whisper* Haven't we heard something like that before?
KA-ZAPP
Eeep! What are you trying to do, fry me?
J: Exactly! *evil glare* So stand still and die!
DM: *sweatdrop* ... nice Jeddy, calm down... *backs away*
Nephrite: Going somewhere? *twirls Starsword* I have a few things I'd
like to discuss with you... or rather with your corpse.
DM: o_0; Since when are you a part of my imagined world? *ducks for
another blast* Itai! I think this is a good place to put an end to
this fic... right now!
J: Oh no, you don't! *begins to call a few airplanes*
N: Exactly! I'll kill you first!
DM: Shimatta! *takes off running, followed by two very pissed
Shitennou*
//THE END\\