Glass Trap


"Aren't you sad Ivan?"

A voice broke through the silence, pulling the prince back to some level of consciousness. It was like waking from slumber within a deceptive dream...

"Aren't you sad that we can't make love...?" the voice continued and Ivan blinked, fully woken by the statement. He had previously just fallen asleep somewhere between reading status reports and admiring the way the wind blew Yao's hair as the porcelain boy stared outside his bedroom's huge window.

He was still staring outside but instead of the sunset, the outside now had a starless sky as a backdrop. The weak glow of the lamps below looked like blinking fireflies.

The Russian made to speak but Yao's voice came again.

"Humans aren't satisfied without bodily possession. It's their nature."

There was a faintly condescending air to his words... like a cherub who was looking down upon man from the heavens.

"You are not satisfied with this and you are sad because with me you can't feel anything but glass aru."

The way he said it, it was confusing. Ivan couldn't tell if he was disappointed at man's shallow concepts or at himself for not being human.

"I am sad," Ivan finally spoke, "because you can't feel me."

Ivan saw Yao turn to look at him, breaking his gaze from the window for the first time in their conversation.

He stood and crossed the short distance between where he had been reclining, to where Yao over the pale figure, he took off his gloves and pocketed them. He then ran his hands through Yao's silk hair for a few moments before he leaned in to kiss his glass cheeks.

"Because you can't feel this."

Yao remained silent for what seemed like too long to Ivan before he replied in his usual blank tone.

"No."

Ivan kept himself from clenching his fist; the one which was still entangled in the black silky hair.

He wanted to pull harder, to kiss deeper and to be violent-- then maybe some of his emotions would come across. Yet he restrained himself... it would be useless.

He had been called a lunatic who talks to inanimate figures; he had been accused of being a madman... how he wish all those allegations were true and that he would simply fabricate and be satisfied with an illusion.

Yao shoved his hand aside forcefully.

Albeit uncharacteristic to his composition, the gesture was very much akin to his personality, Ivan thought.

"Your sympathy is useless aru." he turned to look at the window again, "I don't need empty words. Man always puts himself before others so I don't believe you are more concerned about my lack of feeling than your personal satisfaction."

Ivan would have laughed. It was quite comical to hear such great words from someone who could actually be considered a lesser human... but Yao had said more than once that he had lived for 4000 years. Surely he was indeed wiser than him... it made Ivan wonder if the Chinese doll came to conclude such a thing from his past similar encounters with men and women.

Was there anyone else who had been this close to Yao before? Had anyone else before claimed his cold lips and held him? Ivan felt his heart tighten. He stopped the trend of thought before his mind fell into a darker state of discomfort... Yao was with HIM now. That's what mattered. He wasn't going to let anyone else have him again.

"It's true." he relented, "I am not satisfied with just these simple touches."

"I want to posses you Yao. I want more." Saying this, he bent down on his knees and placed a hand on Yao's lap. When there was no immediate objection, he ran his hand closer to the inside of the doll's thighs, his hand creeping beneath his loose robes to meet smooth, cold skin. He kept it pressed there as he continued, "I admitted it, da? I want to get inside of you. But then what is the point of my confession?"

Ivan felt Yao's hand grasp the wrist which was rested on his thigh and slowly bring it closer to the middle of his legs. Amethyst eyes followed the silk robes as it slid and exposed more skin.

"If you really want to." Yao bent over and whispered unto Ivan's ears, his cold lips brushing unto the Russian's hair...

"I can make it real."

Yao was whispering into his ear yet there was no breath to be felt against his earlobes.
Polished hands held his wrist and it felt icy against Ivan's skin
He was not staring directly at Yao's eyes but he recalled its absence of luster despite its enchanting golden hues, and how he knew Yao's voice but could never tell if it was projected to his mind or if it audibly fell from Yao's sheened lips.

Things he denied were slowly seeping back but quickly soaking the walls of his fragile retreat.

He closed his eyes, brows furrowed. He didn't know anymore how and when Yao became what he was now; when he started hearing his voice or when he started to move but something told him Yao was sustained by his distorted perceptions.

Nobody else claimed to perceive him as alive. Yao himself said that he only spoke to those he favored; those special few who possessed the gift to feel far beyond what the common person felt.

Extreme happiness, extreme sadness, extreme anger...

It probably meant then, that only Ivan was capable of feeling to the ends of the spectrum of emotion, since only he could was unsure if denying his discontent over not being able to be one with Yao was keeping him from falling to insanity, or was the very reason he was called mad.

If he could only kiss Yao and show him the overflowing passion, if he could somehow make Yao feel what he felt for him
He didn't doubt his toy's words. Yao could make it real; he truly believed that. And he also believed that there was a catch.

"You have to want it more than anything." Yao began again, seemingly in reply to his thoughts, "One night with me, in exchange for your entirety."

One night... those words resounded loudly before they melted into a blur along with all the other words that had just been said.

His declining kingdom, his dead father, his broken mother, material possessions... himself and his worn mind and body in exchange for a single night of something he desired so badly that it ate at him endlessly.

"You want me; everything of me?" Silk robes hung open, completely exposing the doll's front, and Ivan leaned unto Yao's exposed chest.

"My everything does not amount to much, my dear Yao."

His wrist was released and the hand rested on the inside of his thigh slid down white porcelain.

"It doesn't matter aru. I just want to feel."

It felt like a confession. He envied the mortals whose emotions bring inevitable tragedy.

He wished to be imperfect.

"Take it all then," Ivan smiled, "until nothing is left."

Leveling his face to Ivan's, Yao leaned in closer, seeking the blond man's mouth.
When their lips finally met, Ivan's heart almost stopped beating.

Warmth spread through both of them as Yao's suddenly-soft lips pressed strongly against Ivan's. Pushing back, Ivan's lips beckoned Yao's to part and he was welcomed with a moist, wet mouth.

Yao breathed deeply into him his chest heaving.

Their kisses grew eager, bordering on fierce as Ivan desperately tried to dispel his disbelief.

Yao was real. Yao was human now. His glass prince was no longer here.

Both their bodies had been invaded in the past by unwelcome intruders or people who were no more than tools to achieve a purpose... however their unison felt like the first time they ever discovered how it was to touch and be held.

Yao knew how to deal with lust-driven humans of the past as they carelessly took as much as they could of him for the single night he would be tangible in this way, but he could not remember if anyone ever touched him with the same meld of desire and affection that Ivan did.

Tears glistened down Yao's cheeks as Ivan took him, he hadn't cried for so long.

"Am I hurting you?" Ivan whispered, moving slower.

Yao gasped at the change of pace covering his eyes, fingers brushing over his hot tears

"You are burning me."

Every part of Ivan burned him.
His newly awakened flesh flushed red with pleasure the alluring heat mercilessly bringing his senses back from what seemed like endless slumber.

His Ivan

His Ivan who will soon disappear.

Clutching at his ebony hair that danced along the sheets, Ivan brought them both to climax.
Yao quickly outstretched his hands, expression whimpering for Ivan's mouth their inseparable lips found each other as they came.


Ivan lay on top of him, barely awake as Yao's fingers played with his blond hair

"I regret everything."
Yaos voice whispered to Ivans ear. It was laced heavily with remorse.

Ivan stirred "We shall meet again da?" his voice was slowly fading, "If I don't see you when I die then I know I have gone to hell."

Soon the Russian crossed the border to sleep a deep sleep that would seal him forever as nothing but part of a memory.
Sunlight crept along the edges of the horizon and Yao got up, not daring to glance back at the peaceful figure whose life he had stolen.

He ignored the voice in his head which uttered in disdain how twelve months would not nearly have as much worth as this one night.


The feel of the wind had changed since many decades ago. He could see the changing skies through glazed eyes as a doll, but not until this moment could he breathe the air...

He took it in and it suffocated him.

Where was the incomparable feeling that overcame him every time he would wake from the long glass encased nightmare?

How he used to yearn for freedom even in the form of the heartless. His strong desire to live was the only thing he ever had.
Delusion was his ally; being able to influence only deeply disturbed minds was not as easy as it seemed. There were few people who had the capability to handle the extreme obsession it required for him to be heard or to even acknowledge that he is truly alive in some way.
And it took time before he got to completely mess with their minds; enough for them to see his movements.

Usually they say they had fallen in love with him. Over and over he had been hearing those words from different people, in different tongues, said different ways.
Yet they were empty and meaningless... love was just another term for their sick fascination for the only means of escape they had during the times they despaired the most.
At first it was annoying, then disgusting, then not long after it just became tiresome.
So many people; not one of them had completely refused to possess him. He was androgynous and seductive; and it was all part of the illusion.

Deep inside he had nothing but self-interest. The very thing he thought he had in common with man.
Curiously, not once before had he felt remorse upon reaching the point of liberation.
It seemed despite turning human, he remained heartless. Or perhaps his heart was only closely tied to the Earth

He looked up to find that his aimless walking had brought him to a forest.

He ran his fingers through the bark of the trees he passed, felt the dewdrops on leaves as they slid through his fingers, and heard the birds as they sang above the branches. It was the things he used to long for. He was surrounded by them but he was strangely detached and worn.

The grassy field beside the lake beckoned, so he sat on the edge where he could see his reflection upon the waters like a mirror...
Looking into the water, he saw his face and he could no longer recognize himself

He thought he would be happy like this. He thought no happiness would surpass the joy of being human.

"Yao..." he called out to his reflection.

His own name felt so strange on his tongue.

"Where did you take Ivan?"

Ivan.......

My Ivan.......

He wanted to shout but the strain left his lips paralyzed and his throat painfully dry.
If this is what it felt without him, then Yao would rather turn back into glass.

Even if he couldnt feel, he would always remember and imagine the sensation whenever those warm hands caressed the ice that was his exterior. They would both live off on the indiscernible reality that they fed each others minds.

Last night was coming back to him in pulsing flashes of memory. Ivan had seared all his emotions with every kiss he left upon his human skin. All the beauty the world could give right now wouldnt amount to the feelings he yearned to feel again with that one person.

"I miss him so much aru."

Yao looked away from the mirror, finding it hard to breathe upon the acceptance of what he had been denying and repressing so strongly beforehand.

"Give him back to me..." he muttered, voice breaking as he choked on his tears.


Sunset cast a yellow light upon Ivan's bed.

Someone had filled the room with sunflowers which by now were each slowly wilting...
Yao took a fallen petal and crushed it inbetween his fingers as he walked over to the Russian's side.

Ivan's face was serene and so calm. They dressed him in all white and he was so beautiful yet he would never speak again; a nightmare Yao would never wake from.

This was the sick fascination he ridiculed. Was this how the obsession for another felt? Was this how he made people feel?

At least when it was over, they were dead. They wouldnt have to live through the heartbreak or the guilt
He too, wished he would die.

The idea of taking his own life never crossed his mind in the past and it made him wonder now why that was so.
Merely a day had passed since he was set free and he already realized that he didnt want to spend the rest of his remaining time like this. He realized how his life was so empty without Ivan. It made him question everything; denounce everything.

Why did I ever meet you? Yao whispered as he stroked Ivan's bangs gently.

Taking Ivan's dagger from the display of weapons above the fireplace, he used it to draw a jagged tear down his forearms.
He then walked back over to the bed, staining the petals fallen on the floor with crimson drops.
Slowly, he bent over and kissed Ivans lips. It didnt matter if he was imagining it or not, but they were warm. Much, much warmer than his own which were slowly regaining its former frost.

He could stay like this forever, lying down next to Ivan, gazing at his face until his consciousness faded along with the setting sun, into the eternal night.


"Yao my beautiful Yao..."

His eyelids felt so heavy, but Yao struggled to open his eyes. He was met with deep amethyst ones

"Ivan..." he smiled.

Perhaps Ivan was meant to be his downfall.
Perhaps they had met to give each other a way out of these wearingly monochrome dreams that played endlessly

No more words were needed as Ivan pulled him close and engulfed him with the warmth he couldnt bear to be without.

Upon mornings arrival, Raivis and Toris were greeted with the sight of the young master's breathless form amidst red sunflower petals and shattered pieces of broken porcelain.


FIN.

A/N: Thank you very much for reading!

12-04-09 -- Edited some grammatical and spelling errors which I only noticed now bec. I only proofread it now. D: Sorry! I didn't know it was edited so bad. OTL