~*~Margarita: Thank you! Wow... *blushes* what a nice little peppy review. That definately got me in a happy mood. ^_^ ~*~ Yaoke: Hiya. ^_^ *hugs* Thanks for the review... and wow... it was so sweet and inspiring... I'm getting choked up *sniffles* Thanks again. ^_^ ~*~ --__-_-_-_--+=+=: Nice name ^_~ But sorry I pissed you off.. eep... I'll make up for it, or at least I'll try. Really, I do like Farfie. ~*~ Siberian: Sorry, I didn't write more as fast as you may have liked, but you definately were a driving factor for getting it out as quickly as I could. Thanks. ^_^ ~*~ Siryn13: Heh, well I hope you like this chapter, it's not as dark, though. Still, thank you very much for your nice reply. ~*~ Saiai Yohji: Yeah, the shortness... I didn't like that much either. This chapter is longer though, but then I spent some time on it and drew it out more. ^_^ What can I say, I get eager to get to certain plot points and seem to rush it along. ~*~ Romilly McAran: Eep... you'll have your revenge, kinda of. Just wait and see what happens. ^_^
Disclaimer: Not mine... really I swear they aren't, but if you insist....
Warnings: Death, angst, psychopathic, lemon, rape, um... that about covers it I think.
Pairings: AyaxKen/KenxAya and a few others, but I'm not going to tell, 'cause that'd be cheating. ^_____^
Spoilers: Aya-chan (sort of), Ran's Takatori obsession, *shrugs* I don't know... you do know they work at a flower shop, right?
Death Count: Farfie so far *sniffs* (yes, I do like him, but he had to go for the story to have a plot, sorry!)
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to Jin, Deena, Portia, and Ana and Gal. Without your wonnderful Ranken fics to inspire me, I would never have had the patience nor the drive to write my own. Perhaps, one day, I'll be lucky to be as good as any of you. Thank you.
"Part 1: Destroying a Mind"
"Chapter One: The Kiss"
By Nauta Iupiter
2 Months Later
The dust danced. Twirling and whirling in the beams of light from the large windows that lined the walls, giddy and free in the new spring day. It danced downward, admist the heads of the many giggling school girls, unseen, yet happy in its blessed obscurity. It was everything, the skin of a man, the pollen of a flower. Everything and nothing. It just was, and it flourished in its solitude of warmth and light.
Aqua eyes watched it, transfixed by the delicate simplicity of it all, longing desperately to just fade away and be happy like the twirling particles. One by one they cascaded down, shimmering in the golden rays of the sun. They began to speed up at a dizzying pace, a blur of sparkles, twisting and bending in desperate flight, as if trying to escape a terrifying adversary. And, in a flash of white, they were gone, and the emptiness of the white mass remained, bringing bitter cold and sorrow in place of joy and light.
Ken blinked. The object of disturbance was so familiar, so desired, and so achingly untouchable. The small bones of a slender, pale wrist, gliding smoothly into long, almost feminine fingers, with oddly placed roughness from many years of holding a sword that made it distinctively male, accosted his vision. Ironic, how a hand of all things, could be untouchable. That which governs tactile senses, so far removed from the realm of tangibility.
The soccer player didn't even dare hope to reach out and feel the ghostly digits of the wintry hand before his eyes; to clasp those long tapering fingers within his own. To do so would be futile, for, like always, the hand would disappear and he'd be left, exposed and broken, his heart torn to pieces.
It was hard to love ice, when you were fire. For, every time you tried to get close to the object of desire, it would, instinctively melt away.
Aya cleared his throat, hoping to get the young man's attention. It had been bad enough the boy had been staring off into space when there were so many customers to help, but to have him come out and then retreat back into la-la land was worse. What could be so interesting about his hand anyway? The redhead shrugged the thought away. To him, it was just a tool, a way to wield his katana and strike down his foe and nothing more. He was most surely not in love with the appendage.
He coughed again, still failing in his efforts to gain some sort of recognition or response from the aqua eyed teen. Violet eyes narrowed in frustration, his patience wearing thin, and the redhead lost all semblance of control and polite forewarning, and just acted as he had intended. Learning forward, he brought his chilled lips to the unprepared warm ones of his alleged "boyfriend" in a soft and passionless kiss.
Ken gasped, startled violently from all coherent thought as those lips, the ones that haunted his dreams so many nights, met his own. Dark lashes fluttered against tanned cheeks, as the boy leaned into the embrace, taking it from intentioned necessity to unprepared desire.
Where there was once just a bare touching of lips, tongues now battled, and teeth now nibbled at puffy, pinkish silk. Hands, that had remained motionless at their owners' sides, came up and slid over the ripples of lean muscles, over the cotton straps of aprons, to entangle in soft strands of hair at the napes of necks, clutching at each other desperately like to a life line. A moan, a whimper, a whisper of a name, all swallowed by each other's mouths.
Aya found the once passionless act full of fire and lust, an inferno of nerves and a tangle of emotions and tongues, and oh so wonderfully sweet. If anything it was too real. He was losing himself in the brunette and oddly enough, he didn't care. Mission be damned, this was all he wanted, all he needed. His body seemed to scream for more, more of the kisses, more of the tastes, more of the caresses, and especially... more of Ken. Wrapping his arms around the warm and agile form of his pseudo-lover, Aya leaned against the counter and crushed their entire bodies together in perfect symmetry, feeling every inch of himself consumed by this inexplicable spark of passion.
A sudden high pitched noise, followed promptly by a crash, and then a dull thud, broke the all consuming moment and the perfect world of the kiss was shattered. The two seperated, though reluctantly, the string of saliva trailing from one mouth to the other their only remaining link, to inspect the cause; well one to inspect. the other was too far gone to think on anything other than the mind numbing tingle running down his entire body.
It seemed, to ever scrutinizing amethyst eyes as they scanned the shop, a tongue along the way unconsciously darting out to taste the last traces of Ken, that the kiss had been a catalyst to a whole mess of odd, yet not completely unfathomable, events. The center of which being a girl, who lay unconscious on the floor, obviously just as unprepared for the public display of possessiveness and lust as the soccer player had been. She was just unfortunate in that she did not have a strong male warpped around her to keep her from fallig as Ken had. Near-by, a girl stood, jaw slack, mough open, eyes wide, and a finger pointing absently forward. Evidently, she was the screamer. As for the crash, it took a trail of broken glass for Aya to surmise what had happened there, a trail that led to a very wide eyed Youji. Leave it to the Playboy to be shocked despite knowing the mission parameters.
Sighing and shooing all the murmuring school girls out of the shop to close up early for the day, on the basis that they had an unforeseen emergency, Omi was left to tend to the still dazed girl sprawled upon the floor, as Youji swept up the glass, and Aya gathered Ken's scattered wits.
"Ken?" the deep, icy voice called. A cold, pale hand came up to take hold of the boy, but stopped in its path, indecisive for a second, and then suddenly moved forth and slapped the stunned soccer player rather harshly across the cheek, leaving a dark burst of red in its wake. It was rougher than it ought to have been, but Aya was feeling rather annoyed at the other male for slipping away again. That and his entire body and carefully masked emotions were in utter turmoil from the kiss. He was lashing out, trying to regain some hold on the bitter, frigid world he knew, and Ken, being the indirect cause of the whole thing, was the most obvious victim to vent upon.
"Huh...? Aya?" Ken managed, his voice seeming just as lost as the rest of him. His aqua eyes were focused on nothing, as if he was trapped somewhere within his own mind, as if he didn't recognize anything. Even as he brought his hand up to rub away the sting, he seemed completely dazed.
"Gomen, Ken..." the redhead apologized, his fingers tenderly sliding along the now bruised cheek in almost regret, though he did not move to explain himself. In his own mind, his actions were just, no matter how twisted they may seem, but he could not help nor explain the ache buried deep in his chest at seeing such a mark mar golden perfection.
Suddenly, Ken was back. Oh, his body had been sitting there, upon the counter, the entire time, but it was his awareness that had finally returned, and in full force. He was pissed off beyond words, too. Why was Aya toying with him? Kissing him, slapping him, and then touching him like that? Did the redhead know... how he felt? Did he... did he find this to be some fun, twisted game? All blue faded from his eyes, as green fire lapped at the sides and the former J-Leaguer tore himself away from the hand and the man he had always yearned for.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he hissed, his body tense and ready to pounce like the Tiger he was so aptly named for, as he backed away.
Violet eyes widened at the sudden change in demeanor, but quickly narrowed. Well, at least the kid wasn't staring off into space anymore, but his temper sure had a quick fuse. Aya knew that temper well, having been on the wrong end of it since day one. Standing up from where he'd been crouching next to Ken, he dropped his hand to his side, clenching and unclenching his fingers in a mix of barely controlled fury and regret.
"Ken..." the one, known only by his sister's name, growled back in warning, anger levels rising up to meet the brunette's, as he advanced slowly. Even he, the Iceman, could not help but feed off such passion. Ken often wore his emotions on his sleeve, but when upset, he practically radiated them, charging the air around him, so that it seemed all who breathed it in where altered to reflect those feelings as well.
"What? What the fuck do you want, Ay-ya?" the green eyed boy sing-songed, mocking his leader, as he tried to subtly get away. As he took another step back, he found he could go no further. He was backed into a corner, no way out but through the man he adored.
Ken panicked. His eyes wide, darting left to right, like a caged animal, scared and desperate. Not now, not here... he had to get away before Aya saw him break down. As it was, the anger he was displaying was barely enough to keep the tears at bay. He couldn't let the other man see it, couldn't let him know how much power he held over him. Couldn't let him know that he...
But before he could find an exit, he was pinned to the wall, hands trapped above his head by a strong grip to his wrists, stopping any thoughts of escape. As that lean body was pressed again so intimately and perfectly against his own, escape was the furthest thing from Ken's mind. He could barely find the ability to breath, let alone the will to flee.
"Remember the serial killer, Ken? The one who rapes and murders only young, gay men? And how you and I were to act as bait to draw this guy out? I'm sorry if the kiss startled you... I tried to warn you, but you left me no choice. But now, it's safe to say that the whole city knows you and I are "lovers", based on how quick a schoolgirl's tongue is. So, we'll never have to do that again, ok?" The redhead rasped out, his cool breath sending the mess of brown bangs of the boy trappped against him into a flurry of motion. It was taking every ounce of self control he had not to press his lips to the forehead of said boy, run his tongue down his battered cheek and slowly slide it into that warm, delicious mouth.
Ken nodded dumbly and let out a pathetic, little whimper, still terrified of Aya and his proximity. Despire being desperately in love with the man, he had the common sense to be afraid of him. Aya was dangerous, and there was no telling what he'd do at times.
His heart sank though, at the realization that it had just been an act. He had hoped, rather foolishly, that it was something else. God, how he wanted to cry so badly just then, but he had to stay strong, seem pissed off, or he'd lose it. Aya couldn't know, especially not now, because a rejection after all of that would simply crush him.
Aya sighed and let the brunette's wrists go, having no excuse to keep him captive, and knowing that anymore contact would be dangerous. He was hard enough as it was, and his control had nearly slipped when that whimper had escaped Ken's mouth. It had brought to mind too many pictures and ways of getting Ken to whimper like that again, all of which, though pleasurable, were simply not allowed. Ken was Weiss, and Weiss was simply a way to get at Takatori.
Dejected violet eyes watched sadly as the soccer player sped up the stairs and out of sight, nearly tripping in his haste to get away. Really though, was he that bad? Despite his resolve that Ken meant nothing to him, that frighten, little childlike look he had seen reflected in aqua depths, put there because of him, hurt. That lost look in Ken's eyes haunted him for the rest of the night.
TBC...
*********************************************************************
Oi. It took me so long to write that, and I still don't like it. *sighs* I have come to the conclusion that I'm a terrible writer. I seem to rush things way too much. And it really sucks when people have only nice things to say about the Prologue... Perhaps this is why I rarely do chapter fics, the pressure of living up to expectations is pretty icky. _
Disclaimer: Not mine... really I swear they aren't, but if you insist....
Warnings: Death, angst, psychopathic, lemon, rape, um... that about covers it I think.
Pairings: AyaxKen/KenxAya and a few others, but I'm not going to tell, 'cause that'd be cheating. ^_____^
Spoilers: Aya-chan (sort of), Ran's Takatori obsession, *shrugs* I don't know... you do know they work at a flower shop, right?
Death Count: Farfie so far *sniffs* (yes, I do like him, but he had to go for the story to have a plot, sorry!)
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to Jin, Deena, Portia, and Ana and Gal. Without your wonnderful Ranken fics to inspire me, I would never have had the patience nor the drive to write my own. Perhaps, one day, I'll be lucky to be as good as any of you. Thank you.
"Part 1: Destroying a Mind"
"Chapter One: The Kiss"
By Nauta Iupiter
2 Months Later
The dust danced. Twirling and whirling in the beams of light from the large windows that lined the walls, giddy and free in the new spring day. It danced downward, admist the heads of the many giggling school girls, unseen, yet happy in its blessed obscurity. It was everything, the skin of a man, the pollen of a flower. Everything and nothing. It just was, and it flourished in its solitude of warmth and light.
Aqua eyes watched it, transfixed by the delicate simplicity of it all, longing desperately to just fade away and be happy like the twirling particles. One by one they cascaded down, shimmering in the golden rays of the sun. They began to speed up at a dizzying pace, a blur of sparkles, twisting and bending in desperate flight, as if trying to escape a terrifying adversary. And, in a flash of white, they were gone, and the emptiness of the white mass remained, bringing bitter cold and sorrow in place of joy and light.
Ken blinked. The object of disturbance was so familiar, so desired, and so achingly untouchable. The small bones of a slender, pale wrist, gliding smoothly into long, almost feminine fingers, with oddly placed roughness from many years of holding a sword that made it distinctively male, accosted his vision. Ironic, how a hand of all things, could be untouchable. That which governs tactile senses, so far removed from the realm of tangibility.
The soccer player didn't even dare hope to reach out and feel the ghostly digits of the wintry hand before his eyes; to clasp those long tapering fingers within his own. To do so would be futile, for, like always, the hand would disappear and he'd be left, exposed and broken, his heart torn to pieces.
It was hard to love ice, when you were fire. For, every time you tried to get close to the object of desire, it would, instinctively melt away.
Aya cleared his throat, hoping to get the young man's attention. It had been bad enough the boy had been staring off into space when there were so many customers to help, but to have him come out and then retreat back into la-la land was worse. What could be so interesting about his hand anyway? The redhead shrugged the thought away. To him, it was just a tool, a way to wield his katana and strike down his foe and nothing more. He was most surely not in love with the appendage.
He coughed again, still failing in his efforts to gain some sort of recognition or response from the aqua eyed teen. Violet eyes narrowed in frustration, his patience wearing thin, and the redhead lost all semblance of control and polite forewarning, and just acted as he had intended. Learning forward, he brought his chilled lips to the unprepared warm ones of his alleged "boyfriend" in a soft and passionless kiss.
Ken gasped, startled violently from all coherent thought as those lips, the ones that haunted his dreams so many nights, met his own. Dark lashes fluttered against tanned cheeks, as the boy leaned into the embrace, taking it from intentioned necessity to unprepared desire.
Where there was once just a bare touching of lips, tongues now battled, and teeth now nibbled at puffy, pinkish silk. Hands, that had remained motionless at their owners' sides, came up and slid over the ripples of lean muscles, over the cotton straps of aprons, to entangle in soft strands of hair at the napes of necks, clutching at each other desperately like to a life line. A moan, a whimper, a whisper of a name, all swallowed by each other's mouths.
Aya found the once passionless act full of fire and lust, an inferno of nerves and a tangle of emotions and tongues, and oh so wonderfully sweet. If anything it was too real. He was losing himself in the brunette and oddly enough, he didn't care. Mission be damned, this was all he wanted, all he needed. His body seemed to scream for more, more of the kisses, more of the tastes, more of the caresses, and especially... more of Ken. Wrapping his arms around the warm and agile form of his pseudo-lover, Aya leaned against the counter and crushed their entire bodies together in perfect symmetry, feeling every inch of himself consumed by this inexplicable spark of passion.
A sudden high pitched noise, followed promptly by a crash, and then a dull thud, broke the all consuming moment and the perfect world of the kiss was shattered. The two seperated, though reluctantly, the string of saliva trailing from one mouth to the other their only remaining link, to inspect the cause; well one to inspect. the other was too far gone to think on anything other than the mind numbing tingle running down his entire body.
It seemed, to ever scrutinizing amethyst eyes as they scanned the shop, a tongue along the way unconsciously darting out to taste the last traces of Ken, that the kiss had been a catalyst to a whole mess of odd, yet not completely unfathomable, events. The center of which being a girl, who lay unconscious on the floor, obviously just as unprepared for the public display of possessiveness and lust as the soccer player had been. She was just unfortunate in that she did not have a strong male warpped around her to keep her from fallig as Ken had. Near-by, a girl stood, jaw slack, mough open, eyes wide, and a finger pointing absently forward. Evidently, she was the screamer. As for the crash, it took a trail of broken glass for Aya to surmise what had happened there, a trail that led to a very wide eyed Youji. Leave it to the Playboy to be shocked despite knowing the mission parameters.
Sighing and shooing all the murmuring school girls out of the shop to close up early for the day, on the basis that they had an unforeseen emergency, Omi was left to tend to the still dazed girl sprawled upon the floor, as Youji swept up the glass, and Aya gathered Ken's scattered wits.
"Ken?" the deep, icy voice called. A cold, pale hand came up to take hold of the boy, but stopped in its path, indecisive for a second, and then suddenly moved forth and slapped the stunned soccer player rather harshly across the cheek, leaving a dark burst of red in its wake. It was rougher than it ought to have been, but Aya was feeling rather annoyed at the other male for slipping away again. That and his entire body and carefully masked emotions were in utter turmoil from the kiss. He was lashing out, trying to regain some hold on the bitter, frigid world he knew, and Ken, being the indirect cause of the whole thing, was the most obvious victim to vent upon.
"Huh...? Aya?" Ken managed, his voice seeming just as lost as the rest of him. His aqua eyes were focused on nothing, as if he was trapped somewhere within his own mind, as if he didn't recognize anything. Even as he brought his hand up to rub away the sting, he seemed completely dazed.
"Gomen, Ken..." the redhead apologized, his fingers tenderly sliding along the now bruised cheek in almost regret, though he did not move to explain himself. In his own mind, his actions were just, no matter how twisted they may seem, but he could not help nor explain the ache buried deep in his chest at seeing such a mark mar golden perfection.
Suddenly, Ken was back. Oh, his body had been sitting there, upon the counter, the entire time, but it was his awareness that had finally returned, and in full force. He was pissed off beyond words, too. Why was Aya toying with him? Kissing him, slapping him, and then touching him like that? Did the redhead know... how he felt? Did he... did he find this to be some fun, twisted game? All blue faded from his eyes, as green fire lapped at the sides and the former J-Leaguer tore himself away from the hand and the man he had always yearned for.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he hissed, his body tense and ready to pounce like the Tiger he was so aptly named for, as he backed away.
Violet eyes widened at the sudden change in demeanor, but quickly narrowed. Well, at least the kid wasn't staring off into space anymore, but his temper sure had a quick fuse. Aya knew that temper well, having been on the wrong end of it since day one. Standing up from where he'd been crouching next to Ken, he dropped his hand to his side, clenching and unclenching his fingers in a mix of barely controlled fury and regret.
"Ken..." the one, known only by his sister's name, growled back in warning, anger levels rising up to meet the brunette's, as he advanced slowly. Even he, the Iceman, could not help but feed off such passion. Ken often wore his emotions on his sleeve, but when upset, he practically radiated them, charging the air around him, so that it seemed all who breathed it in where altered to reflect those feelings as well.
"What? What the fuck do you want, Ay-ya?" the green eyed boy sing-songed, mocking his leader, as he tried to subtly get away. As he took another step back, he found he could go no further. He was backed into a corner, no way out but through the man he adored.
Ken panicked. His eyes wide, darting left to right, like a caged animal, scared and desperate. Not now, not here... he had to get away before Aya saw him break down. As it was, the anger he was displaying was barely enough to keep the tears at bay. He couldn't let the other man see it, couldn't let him know how much power he held over him. Couldn't let him know that he...
But before he could find an exit, he was pinned to the wall, hands trapped above his head by a strong grip to his wrists, stopping any thoughts of escape. As that lean body was pressed again so intimately and perfectly against his own, escape was the furthest thing from Ken's mind. He could barely find the ability to breath, let alone the will to flee.
"Remember the serial killer, Ken? The one who rapes and murders only young, gay men? And how you and I were to act as bait to draw this guy out? I'm sorry if the kiss startled you... I tried to warn you, but you left me no choice. But now, it's safe to say that the whole city knows you and I are "lovers", based on how quick a schoolgirl's tongue is. So, we'll never have to do that again, ok?" The redhead rasped out, his cool breath sending the mess of brown bangs of the boy trappped against him into a flurry of motion. It was taking every ounce of self control he had not to press his lips to the forehead of said boy, run his tongue down his battered cheek and slowly slide it into that warm, delicious mouth.
Ken nodded dumbly and let out a pathetic, little whimper, still terrified of Aya and his proximity. Despire being desperately in love with the man, he had the common sense to be afraid of him. Aya was dangerous, and there was no telling what he'd do at times.
His heart sank though, at the realization that it had just been an act. He had hoped, rather foolishly, that it was something else. God, how he wanted to cry so badly just then, but he had to stay strong, seem pissed off, or he'd lose it. Aya couldn't know, especially not now, because a rejection after all of that would simply crush him.
Aya sighed and let the brunette's wrists go, having no excuse to keep him captive, and knowing that anymore contact would be dangerous. He was hard enough as it was, and his control had nearly slipped when that whimper had escaped Ken's mouth. It had brought to mind too many pictures and ways of getting Ken to whimper like that again, all of which, though pleasurable, were simply not allowed. Ken was Weiss, and Weiss was simply a way to get at Takatori.
Dejected violet eyes watched sadly as the soccer player sped up the stairs and out of sight, nearly tripping in his haste to get away. Really though, was he that bad? Despite his resolve that Ken meant nothing to him, that frighten, little childlike look he had seen reflected in aqua depths, put there because of him, hurt. That lost look in Ken's eyes haunted him for the rest of the night.
TBC...
*********************************************************************
Oi. It took me so long to write that, and I still don't like it. *sighs* I have come to the conclusion that I'm a terrible writer. I seem to rush things way too much. And it really sucks when people have only nice things to say about the Prologue... Perhaps this is why I rarely do chapter fics, the pressure of living up to expectations is pretty icky. _