The lyrics are from Rocket Summer's "Didn't Mean To". Warning: This has slash/yaoi/gay content in it, don't read it if that offends you. I don't own Aladdin or any of its characters, except the ones I created. Enjoy this chapter, I worked hard on it and I think it's one of my best yet.
"I'm sitting here all by myself
Just trying to think of something to do
Trying to think of something
Anything
Just to keep me from thinking of you."
Aladdin practically threw himself on his bed in righteous anger, but stopped himself, spinning on his heel and forcing himself to sit down. No, he wasn't a kid anymore. His head buzzed angrily, his fists clenched as he set his chin atop them. He knew he had some temper issued, but dammit, he could beat them. He knew it would only screw things up worse if he give in, like it had so many times before. No, he would sit here and think clearly if it killed him.
So...Jasmine knew about he and Mozenrath. She knew, he thought as his fist clenched, and disapproved. He couldn't believe she had said something closed-minded; bringing religion into a problem that was already overwhelming him as it was. But then again, he thought as he ran a hand through his hair and sighed, he knew Jasmine couldn't help some of it. She was upset, and had a right to be. Besides, he doubted living sheltered and pampered in a palace all your life gave you the most worldly of views. It's just that Aladdin had seen it all growing up on the streets, from prostitutes to cross-dressing, to slave trading and conspiracies, so it was hard sometimes to believe everyone else did not.
But maybe it just wasn't that...maybe what was upset him is that now he was backed into a corner, now was the point of no return, a decision, and action had to be made. It was clear Jasmine wasn't going to wait around for him to work out his own feelings of a strange new affection for Mozenrath, that much was painfully clear. And in a way, that much he knew. How could he expect her to? His own self-hate sometimes dedicatedly reminded him he wasn't good enough for her. She wanted peace, security, and happiness, and well, he couldn't guarantee it, not with all the baggage his old life left him with.
But now was the time to assess, how much did he really like Mozenrath, a man not so long ago (but what felt like a lifetime), was his enemy?
No!
He shouldn't think of Mozenrath at a time like this, it's what got him into this mess of infidelity and hurt.
He shouldn't
But at the Citadel, Mozenrath was having his own troubles. Shaking hands and burning eyes were at the head of an extremely delicate experiment. His lab was filled with near-toxic smoke, the chemicals he was working with could burn through bone, and the calculations he must maintain were extensively complicated... If he hadn't done this a million times before. Mozenrath knew these rudimentary exercises in chemistry ridiculously well. Destane had made sure, that in between his perversions; all of his lessons of everything magic-related were beaten into Mozenrath's head, unwillingly or not. This applied to everything Mozenrath had tried since he stumbled into his own front doors last night, from alchemic magics, to combustions, to spells and Earth-manipulation, to studies of religious texts. Nothing was sufficient. Nothings filled the insatiable urge in his heart and chest to do something; something to keep his mind off...
Aladdin.
Allah, Aladdin, Mozenrath heaved as he set aside the glass containers he had been using, why do you have to complicate things? No distraction was great enough to keep Mozenrath from reliving each and every second of the day they shared that day. A day almost too surreal to be seen as anything real. A day almost made too perfect by the brush of the other's lips against his, the self-conscious declaration of love.
Yes, too perfect. What kept him from literally doing back flips down the Citadel halls, and what made him flee like Death itself was hot on his heels that night? What kept him from feeling that inner peace and relief that after everything he's ever had to bear, he was finally getting something he wanted?
He groaned, burying his face in his hands as he leaned back heavily in his chair.
"But you know it's not working out
'Cause you're all that's on my mind
One thought of you is all it takes
To leave the rest of the world behind"
Aladdin sighed. It was no use; how could he not think about the sorcerer that had inadvertently captured his interest, platonic or otherwise, since day one? It had felt so forbidden, so much more braver than any physical risk he'd ever done when he pressed his lips with un-sure firmness against Mozenrath's. Of all the ways that could have gone. It still made his gut twist to think how Mozenrath could have easily pushed him away, mocked him, denied him and scorned him. But then again, it made it all the more exciting. And it made him all the more intrigued, because something like that wasn't an act the new Mozenrath would make.
But was that fair, to refer to the Mozenrath he's been given privilege to experience different from the Mozenrath he had fought with countless times? Maybe the person he was seeing now was always there. That much, he resolved, he was sure of. It just took some...persuasion and security to get Mozenrath to show that side of him. And he so desperately wanted to pursue keeping this Mozenrath around forever, to make sure he never had to live a life of defenses and injury, misery and memory, ever again. But could he do that?
Mozenrath stared at the patterns the stone in the ceiling made as they blended together. It was no use; the hero had an uncanny way of making himself present in his thoughts even when it would be more convenient for him not to be. It was official; Aladdin had permeated every part of his life. How pitiful he had become! But was that a bad thing? Was it so bad to realize that he enjoyed Aladdin's company, that he would seek it out, and god forbid, love the bastard?
No, he didn't love Aladdin. What was he saying? It was probably all just a product of Ahhmal and Aladdin looking like Ahhmal. He was just clinging to whoever gave the inkling that they might have him.
He frowned. Was that right?
"Oh, and I didn't mean for this to go
As far as it did
And I didn't mean to get so close
And share what we did
And I didn't mean to fall in love
But I did!
And you didn't mean to love me back,
But I know you did."
Aladdin buried his face in his hands, feeling a great resignation and feeling of hopelessness rack through him. He had always been the one to let his heart and gut guide him, inner instincts telling him more than strategy and sense would, or at least he had lived that way. And it seemed to serve him well, until he had to start playing the politics game with Jasmine, what move would be best to make now, how can I achieve this, is this the right thing to do? He had to become that way or he wouldn't have defeated Jafar and won Jasmine the right to choose whoever she wants to marry, regardless of birth. Wasn't that a victory? Wasn't that what he wanted?
He didn't know what he wanted anymore, he thought dismally as he looked around the charred hovel. (He really had to get out of there). Things were just made so confusing, just so out of hand. He didn't know how to deal with all this new feelings for Mozenrath, or this realization that he might loose Jasmine, who he thought was the girl he was meant to be with.
If someone had suggested he would be in the state and predicament he was in now, back before all this started, he would have thought they had a little too much to drink. It's not like he meant for all this to happen, this chain of events that has been spiraling unstoppably on its way. One thing led to another, and here he was, at a crossroads, way too close to back out now.
He loved Jasmine.
He believed he loved Mozenrath.
So which one did he have to give up; where does he go from here?
Mozenrath resigned that nothing in his life had been his choice. He had no control of anything, really, he just sat back and let it all happen before him, dealing with the repercussions and never the actions, not really.
He let himself slide into his favorite chair, a throne really with a plush cushioning for tired bones. He also let himself slide back, back into the days of his youth, where everything was gold, innocent and warm. Xerxes slid out of the darkness to curiously sniff his strangely calm master, who sat with his head back and eyes closed. But he wasn't asleep, was he?
Mozenrath took himself to the fateful day he first met Ahhmal, a man who would turn his world upside down.
A man, no a boy, who did not fear nor take offense to the roughness he had made himself famous for. A startlingly wonderful boy, charismatic, handsome and friendly, so oddly intent on discovering the burden Mozenrath had to bear from his mother, learning about him with heartbreaking dedication.
Giving him his first kiss...
But he couldn't control Mirage's resentment, nor fear. Nor could he control how his power developed late, so frustratingly late, making her, with the combination of his disobedience, decide to give him to Destane as a student. He didn't question it as much as he should of, that much he knew. He just went along; blindly believing everything would work out, somehow. And somehow, he had this nagging feeling he didn't fight enough as Destane laid all his plans for Mozenrath in place, imprisoning him in the Citadel's lands and discovering and taking advantage of his phobias and insecurities. In some way, he didn't believe he resisted quite enough when Destane ripped away his heritage, or tried to protect Amin and Farla when Destane's rage encountered them. Did he question with sufficient suspicious when Destane tried to befriend him, twisted him into everything he wanted him to be, made him loose all hope and all humanity?
Did he let him steal his innocence? He was sure now, he let himself become a monster. He should have listened when Ahhmal tried to explain himself; he shouldn't have let Destane have that much control over him.
And it was Aladdin, not him, who chose to intertwine their lives, consciously or not.
"I'm sitting here trying to convince myself
That you're not the one for me
But the more I think
The less I believe
And the more I want you here with me"
Aladdin tried to shake himself out of it. Mozenrath wasn't good for him; to have a relationship with him would definitely be healthy. It wouldn't do anyone good. Mozenrath was cross, dangerous, scarred and cold. And the pair would always have some resentment that would never die between them, even if they were friends now. That's just way it is. Jasmine was a princess, Mozenrath was just...Mozenrath. He'd never be able to have kids with Mozenrath, no family, no way to carry on his name like every man eventually wants to. He couldn't ever live in peace, and he wasn't even sure Mozenrath would have him.
He sighed.
But damned if he didn't want to try. He got up, heading resolutely towards the door, searching for Carpet.
Dammit, he didn't want Aladdin! Mozenrath raged at himself in the silence of the Citadel. Aladdin was stubborn, not to mention a kid compared to him. He was naive, imperfect, and taken more importantly. Aladdin would never leave Jasmine for him. But who said he wanted him? He rested his forehead on his fingers as he slumped in repose in his seat.
Every instinct inside of him, that's who. Allah, who was he to fight it?
"Oh, and I didn't mean for this to go
As far as it did
And I didn't mean to get so close
And share what we did
And I didn't mean to fall in love
But I did!
And you didn't mean to love me back,
But I know you did"
Aladdin tried to reflect on things as he made his way determinedly to the Land of Black Sands, to Mozenrath. He had decided against taking Carpet, borrowing one of Meeham's horses, a strong black steed with wise eyes, feeling the power of the beast through his body as it hurtled on.
How did Point A get to Point B? How did things get so personal? If Aladdin had to pinpoint when things changed for good, he'd blame everything on the incident when he and Mozenrath had to share a body, Aladdin first discovering the almost magical-powers his own soul had, and retaining the little bit he did when Mozenrath was expelled. And then searching Mozenrath out and first witnessing his propensity for alcohol, well that lead to first sampling the other's memories. That was when his original, confident view of how Mozenrath was, and who he was more importantly, started to shatter, piece by piece. He found out who his mother was, and what his sexuality was. He had found out about that man, Ahhmal. It started to shed light for Aladdin that maybe he didn't have Mozenrath pegged the right way. It opened a lot of doors that truthfully, he wasn't ready, at least then, to explore. But after that first initial trip into Mozenrath's past, why didn't leave, why did he stay to get the drunken, injured sorcerer into bed? Guilt? Remorse for what he had done? Well, that's what he thought, but now that he considered again, maybe he was intrigued. And he had been motivated, motivated to try and bring Mozenrath that potion that would have mad all his bad memories just go away. But when he saw Mozenrath bleeding all alone in his throne room, he just had to take him back to Agrabah, had to get him some help. But he had to stay that night when the sandstorm came and trapped him inside the Citadel, right? It was only natural. And something kept him coming back to the Citadel, no real reason to. Something made him want to forge a friendship with the sorcerer and he started to have affection, care, and defend the sorcerer. He had invited the sorcerer to stay in his place, for Allah's sake, so he had to know what he was doing?
So he made the choice, roundabout or otherwise, to fall in love with both Jasmine and Mozenrath, despite everything. If he didn't think it would confuse the hell out of the horse, he'd put his head underneath those pounding hooves for his un-thoughtfulness.
But as the Citadel came into view, and he felt the rush of adrenaline as he sped past the shambling Mamlucks, a grin across his face made his heart a little bit lighter. But who cared what problems he may face in the future? Mozenrath returned his love, he had to.
"I know it's not the smartest thing to do
We just can't seem to get it right
But what I wouldn't give to have one more chance tonight
One more chance tonight.
I'm sitting here trying to entertain myself with this old guitar
But with all my inspiration gone it's not getting me very far
The melodic, lazy sounds of the guitar in Mozenrath's lap filled the lonely silence of the Citadel, the sorcerer's head bent as he played on, wondering idly if Aladdin had as good as a singing voice as he seemed he would.
So, he did love Aladdin, hopelessly, endlessly, without pride or sense, discretion or care, all doubts aside. He put the guitar aside, inner passion to play gone without the hero there.
So what do about? He had run out the hero.
Aladdin tied the horse to a nearby pillar, shifting nervously from foot to foot in anticipation, bracing himself to knock. Sure, what he had in mind to confirm his love might not be the best nor smartest of ideas, but hell if he wasn't excited to try it.
He'll get another chance that much he'll make sure of.
"I look around my room and everything I see reminds me of you
Oh please baby wont' you take my hand
We've got nothing left to prove"
Mozenrath made his way to the door, grabbing his cloak, toeing on the flats Aladdin gave him, a startling, new sense of determination in him.
He'd go back to Agrabah and set things right.
As he went, he noticed all the little things that would make it impossible to live his life without Aladdin in it, fear be damned. Everything was imprinted with Aladdin's touch; everything reminded Aladdin of him.
Come on Mozenrath, no turning back now.
"And you didn't mean to love me back
But I know you did
And I didn't mean to meet you then
When we were just kids
And I didn't mean to give you chills
The way that I kissed
And I didn't mean to fall in love
But I did!"
Aladdin let one last thought filter through his mind, heart pounding madly in his chest. He and Mozenrath were different now. Somehow, when they fought over land, power and objects, they were kids then, so unaware of the way things would end up, how they always were. But it wasn't the same; they weren't the same. There was no going back, and nothing would ever be the same. He knew with a sudden sense of finality, of destiny, fate and something bigger than all of those things, that he being here, and Mozenrath's steps coming to the door, would put into motion like nothing they'd ever experienced.
Mozenrath opened the door, and with an expression of no small surprise, came to see Aladdin standing on his doorstep. With sure steps, Aladdin closed the space between them, pulling Mozenrath down by the collar to take his lips with more force and determination than Mozenrath was ready for. He stiffened, then shuddered with the sheer size of it all, pulling Aladdin back into the door without ever breaking the heated, melting bond between them, Mozenrath's lips parting to allow the other entry, still shaking, hand at the back of the other's neck as the kiss became gentle, almost apologetic with questing swipes of tongue and lips, sliding innocent and wanting against each other.
As they pulled apart for air alone, the same thought was prominent in each other's mind.
They may not have controlled every aspect of their life, and they may have obstacles, but they were both sure, that would never stop each other's quest for the other.