*Disclaimer: This work is NOT meant for sale or any other way of profit, it was created for entertainment only. All rights reserved to Digimon belong to Toei and other people that created and realized the project. If Digimon belonged to me it surely wouldn't end the way it did. =P
Digimon fanfic: Proud – Gathering Clouds
(various pairings)
Kitsune Aoi
Sorry it took me such a long time ^^ Thanx for the reviews so far, they were few, but enough to inspire me further. So, um... let's see...
Sillie: Glad you like Tai ^^ Keep me informed how you find him placed in the fic in the future too!
Lilly: Wow, that's SOME compliments! *blushes* No, heck, I'm Slovenian. English's just my second language (my spelling sucks ^^; )
ExBobble06: =) if I have it my way, the intro 'll be explained later on (I sure as hell like twists ^^). Hope to read from you all soon again, you really brightened my day with your reviews. The next chappie 'll be up due to next week, hopefully. So, uh, later, guys! =)
It was getting late, truly late, Koushiro noted and it filled him with worry. As if things couldn't get worse, it began to rain. He gazed worriedly at the heavy raindrops sliding lazily upon the cold smooth surface of the window. Iyou had probably went home by now. He would have to call him immediately as he gets out home. Even knowing Iyou would probably forgive him didn't help making him feel better. His friend had probably went home all wet and... "he could get sick!"
"Who could get sick, Izumi?"
He froze again. He was the only student in the classroom and he was standing at his desk, hands in fists, glaring directly at his teacher. The man stood up smiling a devilishly and walked slowly towards him, lazily swinging his slim hips as he moved. The less desks that speared them, the more Koushiro felt the urge to bolt for the door. Not wanting the man to approach any further, he begun to pick up his things and shoving them into his bag, as nonchalantly as he could master in his nervousness. "I finished the essay you ordered me to do. May I go now?" he asked without lifting his gaze from the school bag he was currently pushing his laptop in. He had no need to look how close has his teacher came, he could practically feel his moves. Then, suddenly, slim fingers lifted his chin up gracefully until his eyes were forced to meet his teacher's. Trough the glasses they glowed subtly black as they dug into his own, as if scanning his soul. He felt naked, exposed and afraid. His mind kept telling him he had no reason to feel that way, but his heart dismissed everything, filling him with a strong urge of repulsion, of will to fight, to hide his subconscious from the world... It was as if he had a huge secret locked inside that not even he knew was there, his teacher pushing a lockpick in the keyhole. He had to run away.
"Excuse me, sir, but I'd like to go home now," he tried again, far more quietly than before. His fingers dug into his school bag painfully and he shivered slightly, hoping he wouldn't have to hit his teacher with it to run away if his plea was refused. It was absolutely not OK the way the older man was approaching him, against all morals, and let's not even talk about the point that he was a boy. To make it worse, his body was actually responding. All that kept him in check was his fear.
"It's not time jet," he saw those enticing lips move inches from his. He held his breath, either from shock or amazement, he didn't know which. Was his teacher going to kiss him? He had never been kissed and, even is such an abrupt situation, the idea of it sounded tempting. He gazed deep in those unreadable coal black eyes framed by a slight glow of lights dancing upon the lenses. The man reminded him of... Of Iyou. As if reading his thoughts, the teacher let go of his chin and he turned his back to his student, walking slowly for the door. Koushiro never dared to move until the man paused by the cathedra and glanced back over his shoulder. Watching him attently he surprisingly found out that his teacher's figure was much alike Iyou's too.
"You may go now," the man told him in his stabile deep voice, "but I will see you Monday afterclass, hm?"
Koushiro didn't even ask why was he in detention again, he was so happy to be able to get away from him, that he didn't want to waste any single moment of freedom he got. Grabbing his bag he ran for the door without another word, but even in his haste he hadn't missed the small smile that drew on his teacher's lips.
Running downstairs like the wind he quickly headed for the lockers and after fumbling nervously for the key for several moments he finally got it open. As he flung the small iron doors open, he grabbed his shoes in haste, but suddenly he calmed down. Behind where his shoes were put was a small stuffed kitten, fox-red, much alike his own hair color. It was the one Iyou bought him one day, for no actual reason. He simply smiled and gave it to him, without words. Ever since, Koushiro had kept it close, not really bothering it was more of a girly custom. All he knew was that it calmed him down, just like Iyou would if he was close.
Watching the small red kitten in his hand, Koushiro thought of his friend. Iyou was probably home by now, angry? Worried? Sad? His fear still hadn't subsided and if raised even more as he remembered he was still in the semi-abandoned school, with his feared teacher just upstairs. He quickly put on his shoes and locked his locker in a rush. With the soft little kitty in his hand he bolted trough the big glass doors, heavy raindrops brushing his face, but he gave them no credit. Running over the school's yard all he wanted was to be home as soon as he could, to call Iyou, to tell him, to explain it wasn't his fault and that all he craved to feel every day was the boy's presence. Especially today. He had been nearly... nearly harassed... And he couldn't tell anybody about it...
His tears lost themselves in the raindrops that beat against his face almost painfully. His tears-blurred eyes nearly missed a familiar frame near the school gates, leaned against the wall, blue jacket held above his head to somewhat shield himself from the rain. He stopped abruptly, splashing in a puddle and gazed upon the boy. What he saw brought a fresh amount of tears falling down his cheeks, and the boy's deep ebony eyes widening were the last thing he saw before his vision blurred.
/ I can feel my soul ascending /
Strong arms drew him immediately in a soothing embrace, close, closer, as close as two persons could ever get and he clutched to those strong shoulders for dear life. "Iyou!!" he sobbed desperately in the boy's shoulder and nuzzled under his chin. Iyou's hand dug in his unruly red hair that was already soaked with rain. He simply caressed it longingly and whispered calming words in his ear. It was the way the taller boy was, nothing came before his friends' feelings, not even questions. As he simply held him like that, Koushiro wished he could scream for all the world to hear how much Iyou meant for him. He still couldn't believe the boy had been waiting for him for hours, under the beating rain. His shirt was soaked but still he wrapped his jacked about Koushiro to keep him warm. They stood under the rain like that for as long as it took for the red-head to calm down and further still. After what seemed a short sweet eternity, Iyou cupped the smaller boy's face and kissed him lovingly on his forehead. Inside he cursed his cowardliness for not finally kissing him like he dreamed to, full on the lips. He just smiled, trying to whip the warm hazel eyes with his thumbs, and he whispered softly "I'll take you home."
Koushiro nodded obediently, clutching at the gentle arm, and covering Iyou's and his head with the blue jacket. As they walked away as close as they could, trying to keep each other warm, a pair of shivery black eyes, enticed by a shade of elegant oval glasses followed them intently trough the classroom window.
~o@o~
Smoke filled air, pale rainbow of flashy lights, loud music ringing in his ears and hot bodies swinging to the beat against his... just like he liked it. He grinned his hips in the ass before them, and just like his, another hard bulge pressed against his leather-clad butt. Hands roamed worshipfully over his whole frame, like always, but he never gave it in the feelings. He was a teaser, a flinger, bringing his co-dancers to the brick of coming, keeping them there for the whole song, and then he would simply disappear, leaving them painfully hard and so clouded with need, that they couldn't bear to go find him, but rather grabbed the first boy available to satisfy themselves.
He never went all the way, nobody could ever keep him that long. Nobody but a certain wild-haired brunette soccer player... The guy behind him moaned and grasped his hips to rub himself roughly upon his ass, but Yamato ignored him fully. His sky-blue eyes were scanning the dark club for one and one person only... But as much as he hoped, the wild hairdo was nowhere to be seen. He shrugged at last and murmured annoyed before he pressed himself teasingly upon the heated body behind him, "His loss."
/ I am on my way /
Taichi finally managed to push himself inside the crowded club. It was always a mission impossible getting in without being noticed, or rather groped. He could feel fingers tracing his length and, impulsively, he shoved his elbow backwards. The hands disappeared in an instant and without turning to look at his gropper, he tripped firmly on. He knew he was late, but Yama could as well wait for him once a millenium. Without really thinking he walked for the small iron balcony, grabbing a bottle of beer at the counter as he went. The balcony was placed at the edge of the dance floor so it gave a perfect view below. Forcing his way trough the dim lights and grinding bodes, he never once stopped to look at the enticing belly dancers dressed only in small white g-strings wiggling to the beat on the multiple cubes, all males of course. They were nice to look at and could provide every kind of service, he knew it all too well, but still passed them without throwing them not even a glance. He finally made it to the stairs. He lazily walked up, scanning the dancing crowd below, but he couldn't see Yamato. Reaching the top he leaned upon the iron railing and sipped his beer. The music was bating wildly and the crowd was shouting the chorus, cheering, dancing, having the time of their lives. He would have it too if he knew where the hell his price was, not that Yamato knew he was his. He hoped this party would be a great opportunity to finally spill his feeling out before his long-time friend, but seemingly he miscalculated the possibility of actually loosing him in the crowd. But it still wasn't over, he told himself, he wouldn't permit it to be just jet! So he kept glancing over the folk below, trying hard to recognize his friend trough the thick superficial smoke that floated softly above the dancers.
It took a good half an hour until he finally spotted his friend. Flowing blonde hair, just covering his ears, a blur of sky blue eyes, lean chest bare, glowing... Yamato was dancing sandwiched between two men that were seemingly at least twice his age, but Taichi had to admit they weren't bad at all. He smirked, his friend's dolly look always sent all the sugar daddies around, as well as everybody else that found boys attractive, flying to him like flies to honey. Sometimes he wondered how the blonde managed to flirt with all of them at the same time and still nobody never got offended. Not to mention the way he got rid of then when he had enough as easy as a snap of fingers.
Right then, Yamato looked up, right in his face, and his long laced spicy-blue eyes stared right into his own. Come to me, they ordered, demanded, in a way Tai couldn't refuse not even if he bloody wanted to. Which he didn't. He smiled in response and grabbed a guy nearby, pressing his full lips to the stranger's for a torrid kiss. Drawing his breath again he grinned at the surprised boy and pushed the beer in his hand, "Take it." He then swung down the railing that followed the stairs and drowned between the dancing bodies. He hadn't got lost, he never could, not when Yama called him. Those incredible blue eyes never left him, and he felt drawn to the boy by an invisible leash, the collar wasn't even needed. With his mind dimmed from the devilish glow in those eyes, he barely noted Yamato was dressed to kill, as always. Black leather pants hugged him like a second skin, a vine-red mesh shirt tied around his hips. His bare chest was smooth but chiseled enough to give him a feral look and the silver chain that dangled about his neck only served to enchant the way his slightly tanned skin glowed in the changing lights. He looked like a god, a god of sensuality, and simply watching him, Taichi felt himself swell in his tight jeans. As he finally came near the dancing trio, Yamato drew his arms around his neck with abandon, ignoring the other two completely. They just shot a pissed glance at Tai, but continued dancing with each other. He hard the blonde in his arms shout in his ear, trying to win out the loud music. "You're late," he stated simply but it was enough for him to understand what it meant. 'Hello, I was pissed off at first, but now I'm not anymore cause you saved me from those two and I don't even wanna hear why weren't you punctual' or something closely similar. Tai drew his hands on the blonde's sides and caught up to the beat with him smiling slightly to himself. He made his choice then; he would not tell him. The time wasn't right, jet again.
~o@o~
Takeru was barely breathing, air simply refused to stay in his lungs. He would be here... Finally, he would come... His heart was racing, racing unstoppably, adrenaline kicking on with every heartbeat. Motimiya Daisuke was actually coming...
His trembling hand was still resting on the phone, even tough several longing minutes passed from when he dropped it to rest there. Truth be told, he was trembling all over, but he never noticed in his excitement.
"I would like to talk to you." That was all it took. Sure Daisuke asked what was wrong, but he never refused to help anyone and, assuring he had nothing important to do anyway, he had offered to come over and help him out - whatever the problem was. So now he was on his way, with no clue of what his friend wanted to talk to him about. But Takeru never lost his resolve. Daisuke had the right to know if they planed on having a sane friendship. Friendship... no, relationship sounded much better, Takeru decided smiling. He leaned lightly against the wall opposite the phone, chancing glances at the main entrance door. How long have they been friends? He couldn't tell. In every memory he owned the brunette was always nearby. Bathing together as kids, or when they learned how to ride a bike, their fist day of school... Then came Kamiya. Hikari Kamiya. Silent and cute and nice and Daisuke was all over her in an instant. Sure he was jealous, but the girl confused him so much he had no idea why. She was always nicer to him than to Dai-chan, making all those gag situations where his friend usually ended being the laughingstock. Takeru played along gladly, it was always a sweet little satisfaction seeing Daisuke crushed down by her... He always asked himself why he liked it, but never made it to chew out the reason. Until recently.
He remembered all too well that crucial evening, last Christmas. They were spending it together like the family they never were; his mom, his dad and them, their two sons, both blondie-tressed thanks to their half-German mother and with night sky eyes, their father's special gift. Their parents got divorced a long time ago, too long for Takeru to remember the reason. Yamato, or Matt - as he liked to call him, moved away with their dad and it took a terribly long while before his mother agreed to let them get to see each other again. And then they were, just sitting by the dining table at his father's place throwing compliments over Matt's cooking.
"... but boys don't need to do the housework, Yamato," chuckled his mom "once you'll get married, you'll never have to do it again." She then raised her eyebrows pointedly, "And I do think you'll marry soon."
Yamato shook slightly his golden locks and his lips quirked playfully for a lazy smile. "Oh, I think I WILL do housework for the rest of my life." Their dad coughed significantly, as if warning his son to move to another subject, but to no use. Ignoring him totally, Yamato looked deep into his mother's eyes, still smiling. "You see, I'm so wont of doing it, that I doubt I would mind taking on my shoulders my husband's share..." he said lightly.
Takeru could practically see shock flow over his mother's face, draining all color from it and she bolted on her feet. She stared hard at Matt for a few moments longer and then her feral mock-brown eyes settled on their father. "... so alike..."
"Wh- what's this all about?" Takeru finally managed to ask, his voice faint and thick with confusion as he regarded them all. Heavy silence grieved for several minutes.
"We're leaving, Takeru," his mother spoke at last. Her voice was low and threatening, dismissing any possible objection, her firm, cold eyes never leaving his father's face. Pure hate seemed to radiate from both of the grown-ups. She then grabbed her smaller son's arm and pulled him to the door, as nicely as she could master in her rage. Seven months later, she still refused to let him meet or even talk over the phone with the two of them, pretending they never even existed, but Takeru was all but dumb. He got the situation quite quickly and suddenly the puzzle was perfectly sorted out.
He liked to see Motimiya hurt because the boy was in love with Hikari.
Instead of him.
/ Can't stop me now /
A slight knock on the door brought him back to the present and it took less than a second for his brain to process the information... Daisuke was there! Breathless he clicked the lock open and pressed excitedly on the knob. His future awaited him. X
Kitsu: Allright, it's official. I desperately need a muse! Boys, line up! *glares at the grumpy bishonen gathering lazily in an assorted line* You! I pick you! *points*
Duo Maxwell: Sorry, no can't do. I've got so many muse-tamers to work with that I can barely remember all of their names.
Kitsu: *gazing around again until...* Folken! It is your destiny to become my muse! Join me, my tenshi... *o*
Folken van Fanel: It's a dead-born partnership. You're too cheery for me -_-;
Kitsu: Fine! You'll regret this! *spots Vincent in the corner* Vincieeeeee *^_^* be my museeeeee!
Vincent Valentine: ...
Kitsu: *beams* Well?
Vincent: ...
Kitsu: ... OK, bad idea (too silent). NEXT! Aya-chan?
Aya: You never watched Weiss Kreuz in your life. You don't even know me.
Kitsu: True, but... ;_; Now I know what you're like! You're mean! Kaworu-san? What about you?
Kaworu Nagisa: I'd love to but... I've got studies at the Seelee that attempt me ^^; Gomen.
Kitsu: Excuses -_-; ... Mirai Trunks! You're not gonna let me down, are you? *puppy eyes*
Trunks: *mumbling as he fumbles around* where've I parked that time-travel machine... Tuddrussel! Would you mind taking me home right now? My – uh – mom's waiting. Sorry Kitsune ^.^;;
Kitsu: ... Su-uure -_-; Yama-chan?
Yamato Ishida: Well would you look at the time! My next concert is about to start! Gotta run, bye-bye :)
Kitsu: *glares behind the blonde* Izzy-chan?
Koushiro Izumi: I present you my deepest sympathies, but I'm already muse-working for Assassin9. Maybe some other lifetime?
Kitsu: *having a hysteric fit* Argh! Does ANYBODY want to be my muse at all?!!!
Gomamon: I do! Under certain conditions, that is.
Kitsu: *eye twitches* ... you're not a sexy bishie.
Gomamon: ... your writing's a mess.
Kitsu: *glares* Good point. So, what do you want?
Gomamon: Oh, not much. Five meals a day, a bed and your PS2 should do for a start =)
Kitsu: NANI? ... oh, well. Sign here. And here too.
Gomamon: *draws an x as he clutches clumsily a pencil* There.
Kitsu: Looks like I'm muse-set... *glares at the rest of the bishonen* You can leave now and return to your own muse-tamers. I'll give you a call when writing about your anime though.
Tuddrussel: *looking slightly alarmed* Take your sweet time on that, buddy!
