Disclaimer: Xiaolin Showdown © Christy Hui
Author's Notes: I may want to advise that this chapter might require an MA warning. I'm sure it's a matter of opinion, but I like to be on the cautious side. WuyaDashi shippers enjoy.
-X-
After the power outage Jack bought water powered backup generators specifically for the rainy season. I haven't left his side since that night. He didn't even have to insist on it. I just felt like I needed to be with him. We were watching television in an oddly decorated room. A white shag rug spread the entire size of the room, brass Victorian furniture with red cushions helped fill the space, and Vienna style light fixtures hung from the ceiling. Jack and I were lying on the floor with our faces propped up by our elbows.
We'd spent the day watching old movies. Jack liked the old black and white films. He had a large collection starring Humphrey Bogart, whom I sometimes think he has a thing for. So far we had watched The Las Vegas Story, Gilda, and The Maltese Falcon. Now Breakfast at Tiffany's was playing on the 32 inch television screen.
"Women were so beautiful back then," Jack sighed. "They had real beauty, not like women today."
"That's a harsh generalization."
"Do you ever wish I was a woman, Rai?"
I shifted to one arm and looked at him. "Say what?"
"Would you be happier if I were a woman?"
"That's stupid."
"Answer the question Rai."
"No Jack, I've never thought that. Why would I want you to be a woman?"
"I dunno, maybe you would like me more."
"When have I ever said I didn't like you?"
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "I see the way you look at girls. Like a dog after a piece of meat."
"You're crazy. Just because I look at them doesn't mean I want them. I don't need girls so long as I have you."
Jack tittered. "That's so corny Rai."
"Yeah I know."
"But it was sweet."
While keeping his eyes on the movie, Jack extended his hand to me. I took his hand and kissed the back of it. Then I kissed each fingertip. Jack hummed his approval and invited me over. He rolled into his back and I put a hand on either side of his head. Jack's hands slid up my arms and rested on my shoulders. I saw him smile as his eyes glassed over and I knew the moment no longer belonged to us.
"Come here boy," said the siren.
I felt something push up from the back of my head. I closed my eyes against the pressure and then somebody else opened them.
"Wuya, you old hag, the years have not been kind."
"You say that every time you see me, you grinning oaf. I ought to cut the tongue out of that head of yours."
"You could, but then how could I kiss you?"
Wuya simply purred as she pulled Dashi down.
He pulled at the turtleneck and kissed her softly.
"You think you're clever, don't you?"
"I know I am. I tricked you into that box didn't I?"
Wuya hissed playfully and nipped at his ear.
It was always like watching a movie. The only things Jack and I could do were see and hear. Not to say we watched deliberately, like two guilty youths in a porno theatre, there just wasn't much else to do. It was annoying sometimes. On our 2-year anniversary Wuya and Dashi took over before we had a chance to celebrate.
There were also times when only one would come out. When Wuya was alone she either attempted suicide, I saw it more as homicide, or she would follow me around. Sometime she would poke fun and tease me about Jack. "Awe, poor Raimundo. Did I interrupt something?" she would sneer. "Here, I'll act like him if it helps. Then she would laugh. Other times she would demand to see Dashi. The witch would shriek, spit and claw at me, but I could never make Dashi come out.
Then of course there were timed when it was just Dashi. I've noticed he doesn't come out as often as Wuya. Jack always locks himself in his lair, vowing to have nothing to do with Dashi. He then proceeds to sulk the next couple days. Since Dashi is usually left alone he resorts to solitary activities. Things like meditation, practicing Tai-Chi, reading, or playing Mahjongg. I have yet to learn to play on my own.
The two spirits only saw each other. Maybe it was magic, or maybe it was just love. Dashi caressed a silky brown cheek and kissed rose painted lips. Wuya traced her nails over a pale yellow back and stared wildly into dark almond eyes.
"Did you regret it?" she asked and stroked his jaw line.
"Wuya, please…" Dashi's eyes conveyed genuine hurt.
"Did you really hate me that much Dashi? That you had to lock me up rather than hold me in your arms?" Wuya's tone wasn't as pained as her words may have suggested. It was a direct question, slightly convicting.
"Bù," he whispered. "I always kept your box with me, Wuya. I didn't want us to be apart." Dashi ran his fingers through her hair. "Even after I died I had Dojo bury you with me."
"To keep me from getting out?" she asked with a wicked grin.
"To keep you with me."
"You're such a sentimental old fool."
Dashi didn't reply. He pressed his lips to hers, capturing her grin in his mouth. Her incisors caught his bottom lip and drew blood. He let her tongue lick the nick despite the sting. Dashi pulled back and in one swift motion Jack's top was thrown to the side. Wuya pulled at my shirt and her hands skirted over Dashi's ribcage. Soon our clothes were lying in a pile on the rug. Wuya lay prostrate on top of Jack's coat in complete submission to her ancient lover. Dashi dipped down and gently sucked on the flesh at her collar bone.
She arched against him. "Why can't you ever be rough?" she said through a gasp.
"Because I know you hate it," he murmured against her flesh.
Wuya hissed. She clasped his back and buried black nails into his shoulder blades. The witch cackled when she felt his muscles tense and shudder.
Love and hate together in passion heated moments. One was killing with kindness, while the other was just killing. What Dashi said was true. He was never rough because he knew she wanted more, and he didn't mind her vicious tendencies because it meant he was driving her wild. Wuya was crude and raw because she knew Dashi would let her, because he loved her. Wuya didn't mind that he was always gentle, because it meant he loved her.
Wuya loved to be loved.
Her hands crept up until her fingers met with brown tufts. "Damn this boy's hair," she growled. "I actually miss that shining dome of yours."
"I doubt the Dragon of the Wind will shave his hair for you."
Damn straight.
She smiled playfully. "Do you remember how I used to lick your head?"
"Hmm, you mean like this?" Starting just above her naval, Dashi's tongue slicked along the cleft of flesh up the midline of her chest and to her neck.
Wuya shivered. "Dashi!"
The man laughed. "You shouldn't leave yourself so vulnerable, Wuya. People will start to think you're a woman with real feelings."
She pulled her self against him. "You talk too much."
"Slow down," he said with a smile. "You're too greedy."
Wuya tried hard to hide her whimpers and squirmed. "Chattering monkey…"
A rhythm began when Dashi decided that Wuya had earned her prize.
Jack and I usually try to tune out at this point. Despite efforts, though, it's almost impossible.
"Dashi…"
"Where's your luster Wuya? Your age is showing."
"Dashi!"
"Wuya, is that creaking noise coming from you?"
"I hate you!"
Dashi laughed, enjoying this way too much. "My goodness…"
"Don't…" she panted.
"Wuya…" his voice started to shoe signs of fatigue.
"Don't say it…"
"Is that…"
She moaned.
"A wrinkle?"
Suddenly Wuya emitted a cry of animosity and pure satisfaction, and Dashi quickly followed with a loud entertained crow.
In the next instant I felt like I was being hurdled forward. I collapsed onto my side with a heavy thud. As I was laying there waiting for the dizziness to leave my head I saw Jack scrambling around. He clumsily pulled his underwear on and tightly wrapped the coat around himself as he stood.
"Shit… fucking shit! I need, God, I need a fix." He walked out of the room in a panic.
"Jack no, wait!" I tried to follow him, but the strain between my legs wouldn't allow me to stand. "Jack! Jack don't do it!" I never heard a reply. It was silent for about two minutes and then Korn blasted from upstairs. I sighed despairingly. There was a pain in my right side and my legs felt like jell-o. I wasn't angry. For some stupid reason I could never blame them for what they did. After all, they wanted to be together just as much as any two people in love would. I just found it… frustrating and very tiring.
Some undetermined time later I finally had the strength to get up. I pulled my boxers on trying to ignore the caked substance on the inside of my thighs. I went upstairs to get Jack. I found him in a poorly lit room with a bong and a bottle of Ikon True Russian; it was a Vyatskya premium vodka. He looked up at me with filmy eyes and flapped his sleeve gesturing for me to leave. I shook my head and hoisted him up, but not before he grabbed the bottle and brought it with him.
I helped him into the bathroom. He sat on the floor while I filled the tub. Jack took the last few sips of the vodka and let the glass bottle roll away once it was empty. When I removed his boxers he laughed a little in an unidentifiable way. I lowered him in and he stared lazily at the edge of the tub. He then proceeded to pet the smooth ivory. I quickly stripped and climbed in. I poured water over Jack's head. His hair was completely straight weighed down with water and his bangs stuck to his face. The make-up started to run on my partner's face so I used a cloth to wipe the ink from under his eyes. He puckered his lips like a kiss when I rubbed the lipstick off. Jack's complexion was much fairer and younger looking without the black patterns. We didn't talk. Jack was too stoned to really speak, and I didn't have anything to say.
I squirted the shampoo on Jack's head and lathered his hair until it looked like he was wearing a white wig. Jack would scoop bubbles up in his hands and blow them in the air. He smiled contently as he watched them hover before popping. I touched my fingers to his eyes signaling for him to close them. He did so and I rinsed the shampoo from his fiery locks. Jack titled his face upward and let the warm water wash over his features. I began washing the rest of him. At one point I pulled the man close to me so I could reach his back.
Suddenly I felt Jack picking at the bandage on my right side. I skirted back causing water to spill over the edge of the tub. "Jack no," I snapped.
"Why not?" he gurgled. "You never let me look at it."
He reached out to touch my waist but I smacked his hand away. "Jack don't."
The young man frowned. "Now you're mad at me."
"No, I'm not."
"Do you love me Rai?"
The question seemed strange. "Yes Jack, I love you."
"Because… because I love you." The motions were clumsy, but Jack shifted onto his knees and moved forward. "And not because of Wuya either. I hate her. I love you, Raimundo Pedrosa."
"I know Jack. I know."
He draped his arms over my shoulders and rested his head on my chest. "Star-crossed lovers, right Rai?"
I put one hand on his leg and the other on the nape of his back. "Sim, Jack, amantes de estrela-cruzou."
