Oh and I don’t own Black Rain either, Staind does.If you’re in an angsty mood, there is the song for you.

Note: I decided to put song at the end instead of incorporating it into the story because although it fits with the story, the lyrics don’t quite match the words I wrote like insensitive does.Oh well, I'm just not that talented to do that twice!

On with the actual story…

Youji felt like a bastard as he claimed those sweet lips, devouring the taste that was specifically Aya.The feeling only increased as he entered the man so harshly.His heart ached at the way the man beneath him moaned out his name and licked lush lips.‘This isn’t fair,’ he thought, before all coherent thought vanished.  At least for a while, never forever, just a little while…

And it wasn’t fair.  Not fair to Aya.  It wasn’t right for the man to look at himself like Aya was some dirty vile thing as he wiped himself off once they had finished.  Youji was the horrible one, the insensitive one.  He knew now was the time Aya would start to regret this, now that the daze had faded and he realised nothing had changed.  He looked into sad violet eyes, so full of hurt, exposed for anyone who cared to look and Youji wished he could love the man like he wanted him to.  Like he wanted to.  But he couldn’t, he didn’t and he couldn’t conceive either of them into believing he could.  He just wished…But no, wishing doesn’t get you anywhere.  Asuka had told him that, long ago.

He watched the man’s resolve firm as Aya sat up, half willing him on, half begging him to stay.  He was conflicted on what to say, whether he should tell Aya he could find someone so much better than he could ever be or to just fling him at the man’s feet and tell him he was sorry and to never leave him, despite how flawed their relationship was.  He settled for a look, not knowing what the other could see in his eyes.  He glanced away after a few moments, smirking at his own indecision.  They were both such idiots to dig into their own personal wounds…

Youji watched the man stand up, the first time he had ever not just lain back down and part of him, that small part he had always pushed away, cried out.  He couldn’t let this man go.  “Aya” he called out, knowing his voice sounded superior, confident, completely unlike what he was feeling inside.  The playboy attitude he used when everything became too much.

Old habits that were just as hard to get rid of as addictions. 

He knew he was just enforcing what Aya thought, that it was just sex for him. And though it wasn’t, it still wasn’t what the man wanted it to be. And that hurt, that he could be such a disappointment.

He rarely slept while Aya was at his apartment, he would sleep afterwards and be late like always.  Now Youji just watched as the man’s ice façade dropped completely, leaving a vulnerable expression on his face, gentler than it could every be, sleep easing some of his everyday burden.  During the night he would light a small candle and just hold the man, illuminated in the soft light, knowing that Ran had looked like this, had been like this awake, and aching that he would never be so peaceful in waking life again.  Damn fate and her cruel ways, she had taken his one true love from him and destroyed Ran, the one person who loved him despite everything he had done.  The idea that without her harsh games he never would have found the man was an unsettling thought.  As most of his were at night.

Youji would get up before the dawn, as the night they lived in waged a war against the sun and always lost.  He would stare at the city, wondering which one was real, the one filled with people, always busy always wanting, the one now, fresh and new and waiting for a chance, or the one a night, a predator, uncaring and angry at everything else, full of mystery and promises better left unheard.  Or he would stare at the man curled up in his bed, looking all the more delicate and radiant due to the light, hair contrasting wonderfully with the lily-white skin and wonder why he was here when he could be anywhere else and be happier.  Or Youji would just stare at the burning end of his cigarette and watch it fade like everything else in his life.  And then he would wake Aya up and stare into hopeful eyes, violet orbs waiting to hear those three simple words that would make them light up, make everything okay.  And the blonde emerald eyes would console and his lips would smile but never utter anything.  He couldn’t say those words.  Not when he couldn’t mean them.   He had sworn himself to someone else, had promised her everything and this man, oh all men would understand that.

He drove the man home, not taking any offence to Aya ignoring his presence.  He knew the swordsman didn’t understand this, hell, he didn’t understand this.  Why bring the man home?  Maybe it was something to ease the guilt he felt at having used a man he respected and cared about.  Yes, Aya came willing, he also came out of love, and it was only fair he should receive the same.

“See you at the shop then,” the blonde wasn’t surprised at the look he received, it was a rude thing to say, unfeeling.  But Youji was already closing himself off, getting into his playboy mode; it was the only way to deal.  What else could he do? Apologise for not returning his feelings?  And loose the man forever…he was too selfish to do that.  He wanted Aya’s love, needed someone to still care even when he couldn’t care back.  ‘Bastard’ he thought to himself.

Youji was thinking that thought as he kissed the other, preoccupied by trying to keep tears at bay.  He was surprised when Aya broke off the kiss, though he shouldn’t have been.  It was only to be expected.  How much shit could Aya put up with before it hit the fan?

He watched him walk away, praying for his own sake that this wouldn’t be the last night they did this, praying for Aya’s sake that it was.  And frowned, eyes worried as the man looked back, lack of anything in his own violet orbs.  He wanted to cry out, to tell the man that it was his love that kept him going, that he was sorry, that someone else had his heart but that Aya had claimed his soul and his psyche and that without him both would shatter.  But instead he drove away, to sleep a few hours before heading to the Koneko. 

If sleep was willing to come to the guilty.

The blonde would go and sell flowers and flirt with anyone but Aya.  He couldn’t bring himself to do it and he didn’t know which was crueller.  Yes the man helped him sleep and wore him out but he would loose the man if he told him he was more than that, that Youji just couldn’t love him.  He would consider it just more proof that no one could love him.

He watched as Aya turned his face away, the finger that had been tracing lush lips sliding across a porcelain cheek, and frowned.  He would stop if Aya didn’t want this, this situation was bad enough, but he wasn’t going to force the smaller man.  He wouldn’t be surprised if Aya allowed him to. That was what the man was like, he should have never forgiven the multitude of mistakes Youji had made, but he had.  He ignored the flaws of those he loved.  But when he looked into violet orbs he saw only acquiescence and hesitantly continued.

Aya laid his head down on his chest; curling up to him and a feeling of warmth surrounded him, coming more from inside than Aya’s body heat.  It made him feel apprehensive.  He shouldn’t be feeling that, he had given everything to Asuka, no one else.  His heart started to beat faster but forced himself to calm down, he didn’t want the man to say anything.  He doubted himself enough.

He closed his eyes, more tired than normal, just enjoying the feeling of Aya in his arms, if just for a moment.  If this could last forever…but no, a moment only last that long. You can’t live in the moment, just like you couldn’t live in the dawn - it was impossible.  Impossible, but a nice dream.  And Youji, with whimsical thought decided that…if he were of the kind who was foolish enough to dream and believe in those dreams, this would be the dream he would have. 

He dreamed.
  It was years from now; they weren’t assassins anymore, though they still worked in the flower shop.  The two of them were lying in bed, talking, something that never happened in real life, about their first time, Aya’s first time, if his guess was correct.  He had the experience to know. In the dream, Youji had apologized for not being gentler but Aya had shaken his head at the man, cutting him off.  “Apologises aren’t worth anything” the man had murmured, lips almost touching lips.  Youji reached up to pull that head downward just a little bit more but Aya had evaded him, getting up from the bed gracefully and fading into the blackness.  He heard the man speak in his deep baritone voice. “Your actions always spoke louder than words”  Images of rougher couplings flashed through his mind.  He tried to call out, to get the man back but he couldn’t. He sat up on the bed, ready to follow him through the darkness…and woke up.  His eyes flashed open only to stare into violet ones, Aya having obviously noticed his distress.  He let go of Aya, needing some space, their proximity not easing the dream’s memory like normal.  The man moved allowing him to do so gratefully.  He had always been haunted by dreams of his one love.  It was the only time he could ever see Asuka now.  Even if they were bad dreams, he had always consoled himself with the fact that at least he had seen her in the very beginning, happy and full of life.  He ignored the worry in the other’s eyes, focusing on regaining control of himself.

He shouldn’t care so much about that hurt in Aya’s eyes, the discomfort, and the worry.  He shouldn’t be calmed by the love.  He closed his eyes, turning away from Aya, hiding the falling tears.  ‘I’m sorry Asuka, I’m sorry, Aya.  For everything.  I’m…sorry.’ He thought desperately.

As the night started to die Youji got up, grabbing a cigarette and turning around to pick up the lighter, and stopped at the sight of Aya.  Aya, curled up tightly, as if seeking warmth, a frown on that beautiful countenance, a small path of tears on his cheek.  ‘Bastard, Bastard, Bastard.’ Chanted in his head and he rubbed his arm.  “When you gonna learn?” he muttered, heart breaking at the sight of such pain, all the worse because it was due to him.  He leaned down, wiping the tears away.  “I'm so sorry.” He whispered, kissing the man’s temple.  He stood up, knowing he would say something stupid if he stayed close the other man, add some sappy endearment like…beloved to the apology.  He woke the man up a little late.

The drive home was silent until Youji stopped the car in front of Aya’s apartment, He would be surprised if the man called it home.  The quiet grated at him more than usual.  And yet, after he made another stupid comment, Youji kept his mouth shut this time, just looking at him in the morning glow until Aya stopped staring at the door and actually turned to him.  The taller man went to lean over and kiss the other but stopped when Aya gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.  He looked into violet eyes to find the explanation for such an out of place move.  Those gorgeous orbs, rarely as expressive as they were during the time they spent together, had changed.   They had more determination in them then ever, and love was still prominent and sadness still lingered in the background.  He would move on; it would be difficult for him, most likely very difficult, and the person who was lucky enough to be the next recipient of his love would have to worker much harder than Youji to know they had it but Aya would move on if he wanted to.

He would also haunt Youji for the rest of his life, maybe after.  Him and his possibilities and love would follow him everywhere he went.  In hell, he might even meet the woman who stopped Youji from loving him back.  ‘They could compare notes on me, they would probably like each other better than they ever liked me anyways.’  Youji thought as he left Aya’s apartment behind him.

He waited until he was home until he cried, long and hard. 

Lyrics

Well, I know the words,
But I can't really speak them,
To you.
And I hide all the pain,
That I've gained with my wisdom,
From you.
And I'm eaten alive,
By what I hold inside.
All the things that I live with,
I can't easily hide.
And I'm left here with nothing,
Nothing to live for;
But you.
It's not easy to hide,
All this damage inside.
And I'll carry it with me,
Until I'm not alive.
When you look at my face,
Does it seem just as ugly,
To you?
And I can't seem to erase,
All the scars I have lived with,
From you.
I'm so sick of this place,
And this taste in my mouth.
Cause of you I can't figure,
What I'm all about.
And I'm left here with nothing,
Nothing to live for but you.
It's not easy to hide,
All this damage inside.
I'll carry it with me,
'til I'm not alive

Note: For all those who wanted a happy ending, the people who I’m writing this story for, it’s coming!!! You just need to get through the piles of angst but it’s coming.  I’ve sort of ruined the surprise element to the ending haven’t I?  Whoops!  The things I do for my readers….

Go to Chapter 3

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