Author: Chauni
Email:
ChauniMaxwell@mechpilot.com
Website: www.oocities.org/asukalangley2nd/
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing or
the song, “You” by Radiohead, and I made no money off this.
Warnings: Yaoi, Angst, Odd dream
sequences, Wufei’s POV
Pairings: 5x2, 1x2
You are the sun and moon and stars are you,
I’ve been a thief, stealing glances through dark lashes at
you when your back is turned. Me, of all people, struck down by you. Heh. It’s
almost…ironic, until that burning pain of agony flares in my chest when I see
you go to him, damnit. Those claws, they tear me apart, gashing me open,
and sometimes, I think my eyes betray me and I am open to the world for just a
split second. However, with the looks Winner shed me, perhaps it is longer…
Do you realize your own worth? Or
even, your own depth? I see the darkness hiding behind your rouse; I see it as
clearly as I see my own. We are born from a flawed mansion, where we can change
the world but never ourselves.
Never ourselves.
and I could never run away from you.
I despise my own vulnerability, that
shaking feeling when I see your braid slip into view or I hear your voice float
along the waves of wind and tease my ears. Every part of my body loves to
torment me in your presence; my lips grow dry and a fire rages in my mouth,
while my fingertips grow so cold. And I am forced to excuse myself, forced to
run away like a damned dog to retreat from you.
I loathe being weak…about as much as
I loathe my emotions.
There you go again, screaming into
the night as his hands please your inner desires and stroke out the demons
within you. I lie alone in my bed, staring at my cracked ceiling, as your voice
rings through my room, through my soul. Do you realize how I suffer, or is your
mind so fogged, so cloudy that you realize nothing but his fingertips and his taunting,
coaxing caresses?
Why
do I stay? Can someone please answer that one simple question?
You try at working out chaotic things,
and why should I believe myself not you?
Your
voice is drifting by on gossamer wings, floating through the thin walls of the
house we occupy and resting down in front of me. You are consoling him,
attempting to resurrect the child within him, that innocence and that emotion.
When will you realize he has shown you what he is; he is what we perceive him
to be. There is no depth, there is no child, there is nothing, and he likes it
that way! He has no desire to change, not for you, not for Relena, not for the
colonies or the reason we fight! This…this is who he is.
Shed
your kindness to someone who cares for it. Coax out the child within me, the
one that never lived, never surfaced, that never forgave the deities above for
a complete lifetime of horrors by the age of seventeen. I have not forgotten,
not a single thing.
But
your eyes are on someone else, just like your hands and your bleeding heart.
Sometimes, I dread to think you are but a fool, but I know that is not true,
regardless of whatever harsh words slip through my lying lips. Your heart is
whole, more so than anyone I know. It controls you, and in honesty, I am
jealous.
But
you shall never know these things, never. I have more honor than to tell you my
thoughts, my own curses, my voice.
It's like the world is going to end so soon,
and why should I believe myself?
Weeks
pass by and the hell of war, the reason of my existence, has escalated to a new
level, which in all actuality, I receive an almost guilty pleasure from it. I
want to quell that eager emotion before it is given the chance to multiply and
spread throughout my body, but instead, I lock it away to look and fuel me
along at on rainy, battle days.
Sometimes,
at night, I can sneak away to a vacated area in the dense forest near the
safehouse and stare upwards into the blackest heavens and see the battle of our
future raging wild above us. I watch the explosions, the bright flash, then
that pure nothingness that erupts there afterwards, and I think. We are
creating a future that is built on death, and I wonder, if in the end, it will
only lead to more death. Probably, but I will not stop with my beliefs; I will
follow them until the day I die.
More
death; it never ends, does it?
And
now, sitting on the couch with a book stretched over my lap, I hear the door
open, and automatically, my onyx eyes slip over to it. And all time seems to
stop as the door is not even fully open yet, and there, slung almost completely
over Yuy’s shoulder, is you, bloody, unconscious, and too pale beneath your
damn long chestnut bangs. Somehow, I’m on my feet and running to the door, but
it seems too slow, always too slow.
Yuy
drags you in, your feet scraping limply across the floor, heading straight for
the bedroom you both share. I try to help, but he bares his teeth at me,
hissing like an enraged cat. Blood is staining the beige carpet as accusing
scarlet, falling from the your splayed fingers with uneven drops. Again, I try
to help, and again, he growls at me, threateningly.
And,
I see a flicker of amethyst as you peer through your matted eyelashes at me.
“Heero’s…got me. I’ll…be fine, ‘Fei.”
Without
another word, I dive into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. The walls
seem thick with hate, and its tendrils reach out to caress my flesh, sneaking
through my mouth to settle in my lungs. I can feel the fury as it slips to the
ends of my body, heating it like a sun in my chest, and although I fight
against all those feelings of negativity, I close my eyes and drift away, still
feeling that burning under my skin, a burning that never, ever dissipates.
You me and everything caught in the fire,
I can see me drowning, caught in the fire.
My
dreams have always been vivid creations, the sounds and tastes almost more
overwhelming than when I am in the waking realm. The nightly trains of thought rarely
come however, but I cherish them when they visit me, and within them, I find
the answers to the questions that forever plague me.
I
am overjoyed at first when I find myself standing in front of a black door, so
black it sucks the color from everything else, so that my entire world is this
massive void, aside from the golden door knob that begs me to take it. I do not
deny it; with a slow motion, I grasp the frigid metal and let the door fly
open.
The
scene lain out before me can best be described as “a surreal nightmare in an
erotic house of horrors”. The walls, ragged, uneven and curved, resembled that
of a cavern, but so deep a maroon they appeared almost black. The ceiling is
low, with intimidating stalactites glaring from where they hung, ready to
mercilessly impale all those below.
However,
those were the minor things, for the real twisted beauty was in the center of
the room, encompassing most of it. Circular and maroon, a lake filled the most
of the cavern, but water was not housed there, for no water can be that
scarlet.
My
eyes shift from the haunted lagoon back up to the walls as a glimmer of pale
flesh catches my gaze. Standing against a wall, completely unclothed, stands
Barton, his one visible emerald eye hard and flat and staring at a wall across
from him with as much emotion as the rocks above. In his mouth was a ball gag,
a glaring, searing red color that pokes out between his thin lips. Before him,
on his knees, is Winner, with his back to his lover and a blindfold covering
his soft eyes. The strangest thing is that positions exude no sensuality, no
eroticism, just this insane, morbid submissive blind naiveté and silent
brooding held by both and by the surroundings. They are hauntingly true in
their nature.
Slowly,
I turn toward the lake of blood, noting the couple that lounges against one
deep edge. Yuy is smirking at me, and within those pretentious upturned lips, I
can see all the contempt he had ever housed for me lain open for me to pick
through like playing cards. His chest is bare and sculpted so perfectly, but
the scarlet lagoon forbids me any glimpses further down. On his cheeks, like
war paint, are streaks of blood, accusing and flawed against that smooth flesh.
Beside
him sits you, draped around his body like a forgotten marionette. You hang off
his every action, every word like you sustain your life from him, and it
sickens me. When your hands rise from the bloody lake, they do so with crimson
flowing between your splayed fingers.
“You
want what is mine,” Yuy growls, his hand reaching up and grabbing that damn
braid of yours, holding it like a leash and you were but his pet. His other
hand slides up your chest, leaving accusing scarlet streaks in its wake and
tainting the once pure flesh. His hand slips around to the back of your neck
and roughly pulls you down into a kiss, roughing up your lips, bruising them as
he laid claim to them…all for my benefit.
He
pulls away at long last and fixes you with a stoic, hard gaze, one that I have
sent to you very often in my own attempts to deny my feelings. His voice,
barely above a hiss, floods my ears and yours as his eyes turn slowly to me, a
wicked smirk tugging ever so lightly at his tiers.
“Go
to him, Duo,” he whispers. “Show him what he can never possess.”
With
the fluidity of water, you slip to your feet, the blood running off you in
torrents as it lay forgotten in the lake. Your hips sway as you made your way
to me, almost as if you wanted to watch me suffer under the hands of your
demented lover. The muscles in your legs strain for a moment, rippling with
definition as you take a high step, clearing the edge of the pool, and you come
to me, standing within inches of my body.
“I
belong to Heero.” The words are evil and vile as they come from your lips and I
want to tear them from your mouth and kill them. “You want me, but you know
where my home is.”
“Shut
up,” I mutter, my mind a haze of maroon rage as I stare at your body with a
hateful greed, one that I despise even as it sets its claws into my conscious.
But you make it torturous as your hands slide up my chest, my now naked one,
and to my cheeks, cupping them softly as I find myself drowning in your violet
pools.
“Taste the fruit that shall never grace your
tongue,” you murmur, and the fire that is yours encases my lips. I moan,
melting within your embrace as Yuy laughs behind us, obviously relishing in my
torment.
But
the world dissolves into fire as you try to pull away from me, and I stop you
before you can, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of your shoulders hard
enough to turn it a violent shade of purple. Dimly, I can taste metallic
bittersweet blood as it leaks from your mouth, from our one mouth for we are
joined completely for the moment, as it slips between the seal of our tiers and
down your chin. You’re struggling; why are you struggling against me? I would
never hurt you, Maxwell…
So,
why will that blood not stop as it pumps itself into my mouth? Where is it
coming from? Make it stop…No, Maxwell, stay awake…don’t pass out! Please,
Maxwell! Stop it! Stop laughing, you bastard! Help-
You me and everything caught in
the fire,
and I can see me drowning, caught in the fire
“‘Fei!
‘Fei, wake up!”
My
eyes spring open, wide and blind for the moment, as the only thing I am aware
of is the thudding of the vessel within my chest, the cold sweat that bathes my
skin, and the nightmare that still lingers barely within my grasp. I shake my
head quickly, banishing the demon dream for a moment as I gather myself,
running fingers through my hair.
You
are sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at me with this mixed expression
that I cannot read, but want to. Your hair is loose and falling down around you
in ripples that last forever, and my fingers twitch as they beg entrance
through those tresses. Your boxer-clad body barely makes an indent on the
mattress, the sheets just slightly ruffled as you tilt your head to the side
and gaze at me questioningly. The way the moonlight bathes you is inhuman; its
cold emotionless fingers laying its touch upon your flesh and making you look
like an angel…or the god you claim to be.
“Bad
dream?” you whisper, voice hushed for a change. “Of the war?”
I
cannot tell you the true nature of my nighttime excursion, so I just nod
dumbly, as I do not trust my voice as of yet. You look off to the window, the
moon kissing your cheeks once more and I cannot help but relive my dream for
one moment, the way your flesh ignited mine, the way your lips tasted of that
familiar tang of blood, the way you looked bathed in the blood of the lagoon…
And
I do not know what is happening as I sit up and grab hold of you, pulling you
close to my chest and relishing the feel of our skin uniting once again. I
think I may be crying, but I do not know, nor do I care…I can blame my sudden weakness
on the stress of the war tomorrow, or some fickle, pathetic thing. It does not
matter, not now that I have you in my arms, my arms, damnit, not his.
Your scent is intoxicating, and the feel of your hair through my splayed digits
is as soft as I always dreamed it would be. I do not think I could ever
threaten to cut it off again.
“What…are
you doing?” Your voice makes me open my eyes for a moment, peering through the
dark lashes as my body stiffens. What am I doing?
“I…do
not know,” I whisper as I pull away, grasping your chin and lightly pulling it
up to look at me. Your eyes are wide and bottomless as I drown in their
amethyst depths; I never realized the beauty in them. I must have been blind.
I
am afraid, even as my lips take yours and our tongues dance within the confines
of our mouths, I am afraid. You are so stiff, so solid beside me, and I am
trying to ignore it, even as the muscle inside the depths of your mouth is
moving and playing with my own. Flames claim the world again, dissolving into
the heat of so much around us, as I pull you down atop of me on the bed, never
severing our connection.
My
hands are roaming like a blind man over the perfection of your back, the narrow
confines of your chest, the never-ending waterfall of you hair, and I am
moaning in the back of my throat, the noise slipping through and into your own
mouth, soul. You are still stiff above me, your body unyielding, even though
your kiss betrays your ideas.
But…then
I feel it; that soft touch of your fingers slipping over my cheeks, as if
wondering if such a thing was real. I know what you are experiencing, Maxwell,
no, Duo, for I am wondering if such a miracle is real myself.
And
then I hear it, that one soft sound that pulls me out of my blissful reverie
and back to the hideous reality of what has befallen. Your body instantly goes
rigid as our kiss is broken, your mouth still hanging slightly open and your
violet pools so wondrously wide.
Perhaps at another time, I could admire the catlike stunned beauty you
possess right now, but not with Yuy standing, glaring in the doorway.
You
are up within seconds, walking over to him, as pointless words are flying like
spittle from your swollen lips, pleading with him that it wasn’t what it looked
like. But…what was it then? I felt you move, felt you react, felt your hands on
my cheeks and felt what those flimsy boxers could never hide. If it wasn’t what
it looked like, then damnit, tell me what it was.
I
sit up, silently, looking up at Yuy with my hard eyes, but I know I’m in the
wrong. Who was I to kiss you, knowing full well that your heart belonged to
someone else? For a moment, I loathe myself, what I have become, as I have let
my carnal, primal desires overrule the better judgment I try so hard to
express. But I shall not tell them that…or at least not Yuy, for he would never
understand.
“We
will talk about this alone,” he growls to you, glaring at me over your
trembling shoulder. You look like such a broken doll, alone and hollow, as your
eyes follow his gaze back to where I sit, obsidian locks dangling in my eyes,
hoping my onyx pools are not showing as much as I think they are. “Come, Duo.”
He
turns and walks storms out in the most silent of ways, and you cast me one last
look as the emotions play hell across your face. Your mouth, those sweet tiers
still swollen from our encounter, open slightly as if to say something, but all
noises catch in your throat; I can hear you choke on them. With a whirl, you
turn to leave, but I stop you in the doorway with my words.
“If
your life with him brings you bliss, then go to him. But keep in mind, I felt
the way you touched me, and I saw the look in your eyes, and a happy person
would not have been that way. I can
give you things he never could, Duo. I can show you what is inside all that
surrounds you, and can give you the love and attention I know you crave, if
only you do not walk out that door. If only…you stay here with me, with the one
who loves you for the man that you truly are.”
Your
eyes are so torn in half that I can see to the inner working beneath, and I
want to hold you so badly. Perhaps I have weakened more than I ever could have
imagined, as my hands twitch on the bed, tangling themselves in the sheets
beneath me. The moonlight is still bathing you in its pure cold glow, but it
all seems as though it is done to torture me, to drive my knife of agony
further down, to the hilt. Your hand, trembling in the beams of light, reaches
out for me, suspended in the air as if a puppeteer is holding the strings above
you somewhere.
“I…have
to go…to him, ‘Fei.” Your eyes betray you more than you know. “I love him.”
“You
love an idea, not him!” My temper has reached its breaking limits and I cannot
control the words that fly out. “Once, perhaps, you may have adored him, but
not anymore! You are his possession only now! I see it, Maxwell, why can’t
you?”
Your
hand falls back down, eyes wide and encompassing your entire elfin face.
“It’s…not true! Shut up! You’re only saying that ‘cause you want me!”
Slowly,
I shake my head, feeling the black wisps as they brush against my naked
shoulders. “I speak of only what I see before me. Perhaps because I am an
outsider, I can see what you do not. Please, open your eyes and be a witness to
what surrounds you.”
Footsteps
are coming, whether it is Yuy or Winner or Barton, I am unsure, but it breaks
you from the hold of this room and you turn and run, the patter of your feet
quiet on the wood floors of this house. You are running to him…and I am left
alone.
Closing
my eyes, I lay down on my bed. Sleep shall not be visiting me this night, and
my life is encased with the fire of passion and of hate, two such warring
emotions tearing apart at my seams. I draw the blankets up over me and gaze
into the beams of moonlight as they trail in, carrying coldness in their kiss.
And
their lips touch me…