Disclaimer- I dont own these poor angst ridden boys. they are all CLAMPs.

this is more the partner to Falling than the sequel. people asked very nicely for me to write some more..so i did. Kamui's POV this time through. poor kid...
i am obsessed with this pair. not for the pairing itself, but for the almost obscene psychology behind it. it is a desperate clinging more than a pairing, at least in my twisted mind.
my humblest apologies to all the fans of this pairing in its more romantic incarnation.

-Fireun

"...I want to be completed
I want to disappear
I want to be uncovered
Take me down
Take me down
Let me drown

Somehow I need to love you
More than I need to breathe
I can feel you leaving the ground
I will follow down
You and I will drown..."

-Deep as You Go" –October Project

I know he is actually asleep this time. For now. His detached expression is relaxed and his cold eyes are closed. I don't think he sees me half the time he is looking. Hell, I don't know what he is seeing. Perhaps a reflection of himself, and I know it hurts him. I know he feels for me.

I really don't need his pity.

I need him though. I need him to stay here with me, at my side and in my bed. He is the distraction I need, the physical touching I crave. I can trust him not to get attached and awkward, but I would almost like to be able to get...something out of him.

It scares me sometimes when I look over and see him where I left him, be it sitting in a chair staring at nothing, smoking, or still in bed after I have showered, silent and still. It is like having a doll, an emotionless entity that exists only because I will it.

At least I have the power to will it. This one thing is mine, and mine alone. No part of my damn destiny. My fate. Fate took killed my friend and took the closest thing I had to a brother from me and the hell I will let it take anything else. It is a futile anger, a powerless one. An intangible fate is nothing I can fight overtly.

But this man is mine.

Had I not asked him to stay, he would have been gone long since. This is my desire, and mine alone. He serves no great purpose, no part in this fight any longer. He has already done what fate demanded.

And look what it got him.

I am almost ashamed I demanded he return. His eyes are so vacant...I try to pull some life into them, warm him with my touch. It almost works sometimes...but then I will see that unbearable sorrow in them...and I don't dare recognize it, take too much note of it, for it is far too close to my own.

I need him though...

I need to know that at least someone knows those nightmares that plague my sleep, will not mock me for them. I can trust only him, for he has been there...still is. I don't know that he will ever leave them. He has wrapped his mind around his nightmares so completely, soaking his sorrow into every pore of his body until you can almost smell it in his presence, sweating it like a drunk sweats alcohol.

I huddle in strong arms at night, my head pillowed on his lean chest. The sound of his heartbeat is soothing, warming...lulls me into sleep. And when I wake the sound of his breathing, the cigarette and musk scent of him, stirs me. It is the feel of another person near me, an urgent need for sensation. A kiss here, caress there, stirring and waking him, creating shivering reactions of muscles, tiny gasps of breath. This is when he is most alive. When I am most alive. A situation in which I am completely the master, the object of my desire quivering beneath me. This is when his eyes lose that uncanny frost and open wide. Even that blind one of his will attempt to track my movement. The salty taste of his sweat as I nip at the nape of his neck, the small sounds he makes as I graze a sensitive spot...

"Ah, my Subaru..."

He is a quiet lover, tentative and shy. Exquisite. A force to rule, not be ruled by.

This is what I needed...

And I will rest my head on his chest as he caresses my hair, a gesture so intimate and yet so innocent after my demanding touch, listening to the thudding of his heart. He never initiates our loving. I don't think he is as comfortable with it as I. He will always light a cigarette, gaze at the ceiling, and trail fingers through my hair. It is a measured silence, one in which nothing is considered beyond immediate comfort, until, as always, I will break the silence.

"Are you angry with me, Subaru?"

His answer is always swift in coming, comforting in its assurance. "No, Kamui. I am not angry." And that is all I need to roll myself back into a dark, dreamless sleep. The sound of his heart beating and his assurance that these things I demand of him do not make him unhappy...

I am always thinking of this in the rare moments I wake before him and take a moment to watch him sleep. I almost feel guilty...

But there is no need. My Subaru does not mind staying with me. He is not angry that I make him stay.

And that is the comfort I need.