WARNING!
This story contains the following: Shonen-Ai, Yaoi - Lime and Lemon, Violence, Language, Male/Female sex.
*....* denotes italics
/..../ denotes thoughts
TOKYO TIME PART THIRTY-EIGHT Omi heaved a sigh from where he sat at the counter. The shop was nearly empty, since it was near closing time. His eyes traveled across the room to rest on Ken, moving of their own will. When he realized that he was staring, he jerked his eyes away, sighing once again. /Ever since we got back.../ They had returned to Tokyo four days ago. They had landed in the small courtyard behind the flower shop, where they had planned to. After realizing where they were, Omi had tackled Ken in an embrace. "We're home!" he yelled, diving for Ken. Ken readily opened his arms to catch Omi, and the two rolled around, laughing happily. When they lurched to a stop, Omi pushed himself up on his arms to look down at Ken. Touching his face, he leaned down to kiss the handsome boy beneath him. Ken had accepted, and they shared a sweet kiss. Until Ken felt that something was wrong. His body had suddenly stiffened and he had pulled away. "O... Omi?" he asked in confusion. "What's wrong?" Omi asked, looking down at Ken, his big blue eyes worried. And then Ken felt it. No soft breasts were pressed against his own chest, only the feel of flatness. His leg came up between Omi's, and they brushed something that was definitely male. He looked closer at Omi's facial features. Indeed, they had changed slightly, from softly feminine back to sharply male. "Oh God," Ken croaked out before pushing Omi off of him. He scrubbed furiously at his mouth, trying to get the taste of boy off of him. He stood abruptly, practically running out of the clearing. "Ken!" Omi wailed. "Ken!" Aya commanded in a stern voice. But even that wouldn't stop the blushing boy. Sighing, the mage sat up, running a hand through his own hair. He put his hands behind his head, intending to comb the tangles out of his long hair, when they touched empty air. He tried again. Gone. He laughed softly. "Of course," he muttered to himself. Yoji groaned beside him, lying on his stomach. "Are we really home?" From the direction of the flower shop, he heard girlish squeals of "Ken!" as the embarrassed boy rushed past. Yoji sighed deeply. "I guess that explains it." Aya turned to look at Omi. "What's wrong?" Omi wrapped his arms around his knees. "I don't know." His eyes flashed painfully for a moment. "Wait. I think... he figured out that I'm a boy again..." Aya stood, taking Yoji's hand and helping the older man to his feet as well. Then he walked across the yard, brushing grass and leaves off of his red robes. He held his hand out to Omi, and the young boy stood as well. "Aya," Yoji suddenly said. "Your robes..." Aya looked down. "So they are." He smiled slightly. "We've kept our clothes from that world." "Which means Ken has his sword!" Omi exclaimed. He rushed past Aya, but was caught by Yoji. "Let me go! I have to go get him before he gets in trouble for having the sword!" "Ken can take care of himself," Yoji said softly. He looked down with kind eyes. "Besides, judging from the way Ken bolted out of here, I kind of doubt that you're the person he wants to see." Yoji flinched, hating himself for the pain he caused the young boy. Omi lowered his head, letting his blond bangs cover his eyes and expression. "I understand," he whispered before turning and running away to his apartment. Yoji looked at Aya and sighed. "This is going to be difficult." ~~~~ Since that day, Ken wouldn't say anything to Omi, except formal pleasantries. Omi kept trying to corner the older boy to talk to him about what had happened, but each time Ken would avoid him skillfully. He felt Omi's eyes on him and stiffened, his face flushing slightly. /I wish Omi would stop staring at me! Doesn't he get it that I don't want this?/ When the shop closed, Ken made his way to his room, slamming the door and falling onto his bed with an explosive sigh. "Damnit, Omi," he muttered, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. "You're driving me crazy. Can't you just let it go?" A soft knock came at his door. Without thinking, he bade the person to come in. When the door opened to reveal Omi, his mind went numb. /Stupid!/ he mentally cursed himself. /How are you going to get out of this one?/ His eyes searched the room for a distraction from Omi. He spotted his dirty clothes in the corner. Bolting out of bed, he grabbed his clothes. "Sorry, Omi," Ken said briskly, making for the door. "Kinda busy right now. Later, okay?" Omi stood in the way of the door. With Ken's wide eyes watching, he turned and locked the door. "No, Ken," Omi said, his eyes firmly staring into Ken's brown ones. "We're going to talk *now*." Ken dropped the clothes he was carrying. He staggered back as Omi advanced, until he fell on his butt on his bed. Omi pulled the chair away from his desk and sat down in it, looking sternly at Ken. "You want to tell me what's going on?" "Nothing's going on," Ken said, his eyes darting around the room. He couldn't look at Omi, so he looked at everything except the young boy. Only, everything he looked at reminded him of the beautiful boy who stared so longingly at him. The poster on the wall that had a brilliantly blue sky, just like Omi's eyes. The CD cover that sported a wheat field, the same wheat color of Omi's blond locks. He sighed and finally turned his gaze to Omi, losing the battle within him. "Something's going on!" Omi continued. "You won't talk to me!" Omi reached out and touched Ken's hand. The older boy jerked away as if he had been burned. "We used to be friends," Omi whispered. Ken sighed, standing up to pace the room. "Listen, Omi. I don't want to be mean, but it's going to sound that way." He turned to look at the boy as he continued pacing nervously. "You're a boy, Omi. A *boy*. I don't like boys, not like how you want me to like you." "But, we..." Omi struggled for words, his face desperate. "Ken, we made love together!" Ken flushed red at that, pulling his eyes away from Omi. "The only reason I did that was because you were a girl. It was only a temporary thing. I thought you knew that!" "Temporary?" Omi cried, standing up so fast that the chair fell over backwards. "I was supposed to know that? After you said all those things..." Omi stopped, trying to control the tears that were flooding his eyes. "After you told me that you loved me and wanted to be with me forever... After all that we shared, you say it was only *temporary*?" Ken stopped pacing, sitting down heavily on his bed. "I'm sorry, Omi. I never meant for things to go that far..." Omi stood in front of him, and he reluctantly looked up at the crying, angry boy. He did at the wrong time, as Omi's hand descended to crack loudly across his cheek. Stunned, Ken put his own hand to his cheek. "Omi...?" "I hate you, Ken," Omi whispered fiercely. "No, I can't say that. I *love* you, Ken, with all my heart. What we shared in the other world meant so much to me. My feelings won't change just because my gender did." Tears ran unchecked down his pinkening cheeks. "I don't regret it, Ken. I won't." He leaned down, his face so close to Ken's that they breathed the same air. "I just wanted you to be happy..." Ken couldn't pull away. He couldn't tear his eyes from Omi's cerulean orbs, and he couldn't turn away when lips touched his. He could feel Omi's feelings in that one kiss. It was bittersweet, one part of Omi asking for Ken to remember their love, the other part saying good-bye. Omi broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Ken's for a moment. "I love you," he whispered. And then he left the room, shutting the door quietly. "Omi," Ken said softly. But the boy was gone. The older boy still sat there, his eyes closed and lips slightly pursed, as if awaiting another kiss. "Oh, Omi. What have I done?" His brown eyes snapped open. He wiped at his lips and stood up quickly, trying to regain control over himself. "It's better for both of us this way," he told himself. He nervously played with the little soccer knickknacks that cluttered his room. "It'll be less painful this way. Besides, two guys just aren’t right!" /No matter how much my heart aches for the boy. I won't give in. I won't be weak!/ ~~~~ "What happened between you and Omi? You guys used to be so happy." Ken shot a glare at Yoji. "Shut up! Whatever happened was only a temporary arrangement. It wasn't meant to last." Yoji leaned back against the counter, his eyes terribly wide. He pushed his shades up to the top of his head, and then calmly grabbed the front of Ken's soccer jersey. His intense, angry green eyes bored into Ken's, hefting the boy up so high that he feet dangled off the floor. "You're talking about the *love* you shared with Omi as if it were a flower arrangement," Yoji bit out, only his eyes betraying his inner emotions. "Don't you realize...?" He sighed and dropped Ken to his feet. "You do, don't you? And you won't accept it." Ken huffed angrily, although it was mostly nervousness. He straightened his shirt and glared at Yoji. "What *are* you talking about?" Yoji smiled slightly. They were close enough for Omi to hear. And he could tell by the way the young blond held himself that he was listening, and trying to appear as if he wasn't. "You love Omi, don't you see that? Only you've got your stupid ideas that men can't love each other." Yoji smirked down at the uncomfortable boy. "Or is it that you're just so inexperienced that you don't know what to do with a guy?" He winked. "Seth and I loved each other. I can give you pointers for the bedroom..." "Shut up!" Ken yelled, his face flushed bright red. He pushed away from the older man, running towards the back of the shop. He just wanted to be alone right now to sort out his feelings. "Ken!" Omi cried, his voice full of longing and pain. The soccer player slowly stopped his headlong run and stood there, facing the door that would give him freedom from the situation. He slowly turned, locking eyes with Omi. They stared at each other for a moment. Omi looked at him in despair; Ken's expression was unreadable, and Omi wanted to know what he was thinking so badly. "Omi," Ken said, his voice deceptively upbeat. "I think we need to talk." Omi slowly nodded, his attitude suddenly wary. "A- all right, Ken." He pulled off his smock and followed the other boy out the door. "Good luck, Omittchi!" Yoji whispered. Omi turned in surprise, and the older man winked, giving him the thumbs-up sign. Omi blushed, waving the other away. Ken shut the door behind Omi, walking to brush some papers off of a chair so that the blond boy could sit. Ken stood nervously in the doorway. "Do you, uh, want something to drink, or something?" Omi clasped his hands in his lap. "No." He couldn't look up at Ken, knowing that if he did, then his emotions would just start spilling out again. Ken pulled out another chair in the cramped space and sat down facing the younger boy. "Omi, I..." He stopped, searching for words. He sighed. "Omi, how do you feel about me?" Omi looked up in surprise. "I love you, Ken," he said without hesitation. "How long? Before we landed in the other world?" "Yes," Omi whispered, lowering his eyes to his hands. He didn't want to see the look of disgust in Ken's eyes. "At first, I just thought it was because we were good friends. But when I started to think of you all the time, wanting to kiss you and..." He stopped, blushing. "I thought it might be love. And when we landed in the other world, it came clear. I *knew* that I loved you. "But I also knew that you wouldn't accept me as a boy. Maybe that's why I was turned into a girl. To get your love in an acceptable way. I love you, Ken, and I know that, even if it was for a brief time, you loved me too." Ken sighed deeply, closing his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking. "I'll agree with that. I did love you. Otherwise I would never have..." He blushed. "Never have made love to you." Omi looked up, tears collecting in his eyes. His heart hurt. Ken's words were wrapped so tight around his feelings, pulling tighter each time he opened his mouth to make constant pain and fear rush through him as fast as his blood. "I just... don't understand how it could fade so quickly," he said softly. "You loved me, Ken. Did those feelings you have fade so rapidly? Am I that undesirable to you?" Omi cried, looking with burning blue eyes at Ken. Ken gulped. /Undesirable? Never, Omi. If you don't stop looking at me with those eyes, I'm just going to.../ He gulped at his own thoughts. /Do something I'll probably regret./ Ken leaned back in his chair, covering his face with his hands. In a sudden nervous fit, he stood up and began pacing the room. Omi watched him, his eyes wide with fear and anticipation. "Damnit, Omi!" he finally cried, sinking back into the chair. "I can't lie to you. I won't let myself. It's not that my feelings for you have faded, it's just that..." Omi sighed softly. "You do still love me." Ken closed his eyes tightly. As much as he didn't want to say it, it came out. "I do love you, Omi." "But because you're against boy-boy relationships, you won't do anything about it." "I can't!" Ken leaned forward, capturing Omi's hands in his own. "You have no idea what I want to do to you right now, and all of it would be so good for you! But... it's not right. I wouldn't. I can't. My beliefs, my morals... Whatever you want to call them, I don't believe that it's right!" Omi's eyes had lit up, and it pained Ken to see that. He could only turn the young boy down, but it didn't seem to be getting through to Omi. Omi leaned forward, falling to kneel next to Ken. "Oh, Ken," he breathed. His heart was in his eyes, those expressive blue eyes that always gave him away. Ken looked away. His control was rapidly fading every time those eyes were turned on him. He wanted to just grab Omi and throw the young boy on his bed and ravish him till he died of pleasure and passion. He clenched his hands into fists. /Never! I won't let something so shameful happen to him!/ Omi stroked his hand lightly. "Ken, I'm sure that if you keep loving me, you'll see that it's not a bad thing. Love isn't bad, and our love could never be awful. You'll see." Omi stood up, leaning over Ken's body, his face dreadfully near. "Let me show you..." Ken shivered in anticipation. He watched as Omi wetted his lips, parting them sensuously in preparation for the kiss he wanted from Ken. He knew his own eyes were probably as wide as saucers at the moment. He forced down the feelings as he swallowed hard. He grabbed Omi's wrists and pushed the boy back. "No, Omi," he whispered, his voice strangled. "No." "But, Ken...!" "If you do that, then where will it go? I can accept the kissing, but we *made love* in the other world. We can't do that here!" Omi slid himself into Ken's lap, wrapping his arms around the young man's neck. His eyes were heavy lidded and held a promise of secret delight in them. Ken felt his body shiver again, and he couldn't tear his gaze from those beautiful, seductive eyes. "My body can still pleasure yours as a woman's would," Omi whispered, his voice sweetly husky. "That's disgusting," was Ken's automatic response. He flushed and bit his lip, ashamed at what he had said. But Omi's expression didn't change. "Our love-making before was beautiful, wasn't it?" Ken gulped, nodding. He didn't trust himself to speak. He might start crying out love declarations at any moment with the way Omi kept looking at him. "And our love is beautiful. So if we made love now, it would also be beautiful." Omi leaned in, his nose brushing Ken's. "Just because I'm in a different body, doesn't mean anything will change." Ken surrendered himself to Omi as the blond boy pressed his lips against Ken's. The older boy wrapped his arm around Omi's waist, stroking Omi's back soothingly with the other. Their lips played together, meshing and entwining with fierce delight. Ken felt a huge shock go through him as Omi kissed him again. This didn't feel wrong. In fact, it felt quite right, and quite nice. So, if they went farther than this, it would also be gorgeous and enticing, right? In the back of his mind, he remembered the arguments his parents had forced upon him when he was younger. The words that they had used to describe any relationship that wasn't a married man or woman ran through his head; ugly, disgusting, revolting, and above all, unhealthy. As he felt Omi's tongue seek entrance to his mouth, he wondered how anything this wonderful could be seen as something so awful. He picked the boy up in his arms and set him down in the bed, without their lips parting. Omi, startled at the feel of blankets beneath him, pulled away slightly. "Ken...?" he questioned, slight fear rushing through him. Ken smiled, ruffling the wheat blond hair while gazing into the cerulean blue eyes that had the cutest expression of confusion written there. He kissed the tip of Omi's nose. "I've been thinking," he said, laying down beside the young boy and propping himself up on one elbow. "I was told all my life that anyone having sex outside of marriage was wrong and disgraceful, and anyone having sex in a relationship that wasn't a man and a woman was just wrong and disgusting. All my life, that's been jammed into my head." He smiled slightly, running a finger down Omi's soft cheek. "You should have heard the fuss they created when Kase and I became friends." He shook his head. "But anyway, they told me that all my life, and I believed it. But when I'm with you... No, right now with you, I realized how wrong they were." Omi's eyes brightened considerably. "Something that feels this good, that's this right, can't be ugly and wrong, can it?" Omi leaned up for a kiss. "Love is never wrong, Ken." Ken willingly gave him his kiss. "No, I guess it's not." Omi cupped Ken's face in his hands. "Does that mean that you accept me? That we'll be...?" Ken smiled, his fingers trailing down Omi's chest to tickle at his sensitive sides. "That we'll be what?" Omi blushed. "Lovers!" he cried between laughs. Ken pulled away and Omi became series. "That I'll be yours, and you'll be mine?" "Till death do us part, now and forever, I do," Ken said, leaning down to kiss the young boy sweetly. "I do," Omi repeated, giggling softly. They lay in each other's arms for a few moments of silence. Ken's hands experimentally traveled Omi's body, relishing the feel of a male body pressed against his own. The feel of Ken's gentle stroking hands began to lull Omi to sleep. Since they had arrived home and Ken had rejected him, he hadn't slept well. And now, being in his lover's arms, in safety and love, it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. With a huge yawn, he sat up, pulling away from Ken. "I guess I should get back to the shop. Yoji's probably wandered off, and Aya'll be mad at me." Ken pouted cutely. "You're more concerned about Aya getting mad? What about if I get mad if you leave me?" Omi smiled, leaning down to kiss Ken's pouty lips. "Then you'll get mad. I'll be back later tonight anyway," he whispered, his eyes once more becoming dark and seductive, the look making Ken shiver in delight. Ken ran a finger up Omi's arm. "You'll be back tonight, huh? Whatever for? You're not going to tell me that we're just going to cuddle again, are you?" Omi turned, pushing Ken onto his back in the bed. He straddled Ken's hips, giving Ken his sexiest gaze as he ran his hands up the boy's chest. "I don't know. Is that *all* you want to do?" Ken stared up at his lover, amazed at the young boy's aggressiveness. With a feral grin, Ken grabbed Omi's arms and jerked him down, crushing their lips together in a fierce kiss. When they finally parted, panting, Ken murmured, "Do I really have to wait till tonight?" Omi blushed slightly, running his fingers lightly down Ken's chest. His hand crept down between Ken's legs, rubbing him through the fabric of his pants. "*Can* you wait till tonight?" was the boy's answer. Ken bit back a moan at the touch of Omi's hand. No doubt about it, *this* was Heaven. He rolled, trapping Omi beneath him in the bed. He grinned, his eyes glinting full with sexual promise. "You won't let me wait." He kissed Omi again brutally, his lips bruising into the younger boy's. His rough hands roamed Omi's chest, rubbing and squeezing in an ungentle manner, eliciting deep moans of pleasure from him. Ken pulled back, looking down at the boy writhing beneath him. He took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes tight, trying to calm himself. Kase had explained it to him once, how a man makes love to another man. He knew of the pain he would cause Omi, and he didn't want to hurt Omi in any way. /Perhaps it'll be better if I think about this first,/ he thought, pulling away suddenly. "Ken?" Omi asked, curious hurt in his voice. Ken turned, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to Omi. "I... I'm sorry, Omi. Maybe we shouldn't do this..." Omi wrapped his arms around Ken's chest. His breath tickled the older boy's ear as he spoke. "I'm ready, Ken. I want this." Ken gulped, turning to face the young boy. "A- are you sure?" Omi lay back in the bed, his arms stretched above his head, his wrists touching. He nodded and then closed his eyes, pursing his lips. "I'm ready, Ken." Ken let his dark eyes travel over Omi's body. Slim but strong with taut muscles just underneath soft, velvety skin. He licked his lips slightly, his eyes riveted to the place where Omi's shirt was hitched slightly upwards, baring the pale skin. Without willing it, his hands reached out, one sliding under Omi's shirt, the other stroking his face. "Omi," Ken whispered a moment before their lips touched. The kiss sparked it all. Ken felt pure desire rush through him, and he knew without doubt that he couldn't stop himself again. His lips became rougher, and small mews of pleasure began to issue from Omi's reddening lips. His rough hands skimmed over Omi's soft skin underneath his shirt. When his thumb hit the young boy's already taut nipple, he discovered that it brought Omi great pleasure. The young boy's back arched into Ken's touch, his mouth opening wide in a gasp. Ken laughed softly, pulling Omi's shirt off. "I see what you like," he murmured, kissing Omi's ear gently. His hands traveled over the boy's chest again, this time his fingers stroking the hard nipples again. On a whim, Ken began to kiss downwards. His lips sucked on Omi's sweet flesh that resided near the base of his neck, and then farther down to his chest. He noticed that Omi's panting picked up as he neared the small nub on the boy's chest. When he took it in his mouth, Omi cried out, long and low. Omi tried to think clearly as Ken was kissing him, but it was hard to push aside the veil of pleasure that cloaked his mind. He could feel Ken's desire pushing against his leg, and he wanted to do something that would satisfy the other boy. Reaching up, Omi's hands caught at the hem of Ken's soccer jersey. Slowly, his small frame being wracked by shudders of excitement, he pulled the shirt off of Ken's shoulders, tossing it away. He ran his small, pale hands down the older boy's bronzed skin, marveling at the beautiful dusky color it had become. His hands ran over the tightly muscled back and sides, drifting ever downwards as Ken's continued his ministrations on his chest. They touched the waist of the jeans the older boy wore, circling around to the front. Darting forward, one of Omi's hands slid in between Ken's legs, touching his very apparent arousal. Ken rewarded him with a loud groan, and all movement stopped as his body registered Omi's hand caressing him in his most intimate place. He reached up with shaking hands and took the pale face in them, straining upwards for a sweet kiss. And then his hands were at the waist of Omi's pants, trying to frantically push them off. "I need you, Omi," Ken whispered in a strangled voice. Clothes flew off the bed in a wild shower until the two of them were totally naked. Omi lay on the bed, blushing slightly as he was revealed. Ken's body lay next to his, pushed up on his arms, his eyes wide as they ran down the length of the beautiful body beneath him. From his blushing face to his erect manhood, from his slender fingers to his petite toes, he was the most gorgeous thing Ken had ever seen. "Omi," he whispered, his breath fast and silent. "Y- you're beautiful! I- I've never..." Words failed him and he could only drown in the welcoming warmth of the cerulean eyes that pulled him in. Ken knew then that he didn't want to be with anyone else. This willing body beneath his, the heart and love given to freely. There was no one else who could give Ken this. He inwardly cursed himself for almost letting it go. Leaning down, he kissed Omi with one of the sweetest, gentle kisses he could manage, filled to the brim of all his feelings for the boy. When he pulled back, he saw tears leaking from Omi's eyes. "Omi!" he cried, wrapping the young boy in his arms to kiss away the tears. "What's wrong?" Omi hiccupped softly, his body shivering slightly in Ken's grasp. "Oh Ken!" he whispered. "I love you so much!" The older boy smiled, kissing Omi's sweet red lips again. "Then just relax. No more words. Just let me... Let me make love to you." Omi's eyes flew open in surprise as he stared at Ken. That was the last thing he expected from the soccer player, especially so soon after his emotional transformation. But as the older boy's hands began to gently caress his body, his lips once more returning to his chest, Omi knew that it was right. It was Ken's way of showing how he felt, rather than through words. As he kissed the young boy's neck, Ken's eyes wandered down the pale body and registered on Omi's obvious arousal. His hands wandered down the sides of Omi's body, slowly over his hips and parting the boy's legs. With gentle strokes, he ran the tips of his fingers over the velvet sensitive insides of Omi's thighs. Above him, Omi trashed and moaned in delight. Ken sucked on the side of Omi's neck gently, while one of his hands played with one of the tight nipples on his chest. His other hand came within centimeters of Omi's manhood, drawing impatient moans from the boys. Again and again, Omi tried raising his hips to Ken's touch, but the hand would always be taken away before they could touch. At long last, Ken finally laid his hand on Omi's length, and the body below his was racked with shudders and moans of his name over and over. Slowly, Ken began to run his hand up and down the hard length, pleasuring the boy as he would often pleasure himself. He ran his fingers lightly up and down, making sure to fully caress the underside. His thumb snaked up to rub the tip, hitting the wetness that dewed there. With Omi's wide blue eyes watching, Ken raised his hand to his mouth and lapped away at the moisture. A full blush sprang to the boy's cheeks but he couldn't look away as Ken cleaned his finger. Ken shifted slightly so that his body would cover Omi's. As he did, his own erect arousal hit Omi's, and they both yelped in sudden pleasure. They stared at each other for a moment, their manhoods rubbing together in a symphony of physical pleasure. Roughly, Ken grabbed Omi's arms and hauled the young boy into his lap. He positioned him so that the pale legs wrapped around his waist, the arms around his neck. Now they were face to face, and their hips touched and their arousals brushed against each other. Kissing him, Ken reached down to grab Omi's erection once again. He began pumping the boy with quick, hard strokes, while his own arousal rubbed against it. At Ken's furious pace, they soon both neared their climax. With a soft grunt, Ken expelled himself, and a moment later, Omi cried out loudly as he too came. Panting, they collapsed into each other's arms. Ken's lips caressed the skin of Omi's neck, already adorned with a bruise from one bout of kissing. The young boy lay limp in his arms, his slim hands trailing softly up and down his broad, bronzed back. "Oh, Ken," he finally whispered. Ken leaned forward, laying Omi on his back in the rumpled sheets. The young boy looked down at their bodies, covered in sweat and the seed of their love. In an impish gesture, he ran a finger across Ken's stomach, picking up his own bitter seed. As Ken watched with bated breath, Omi trailed the finger over his own lips, coating them. Leaning back, he beckoned at Ken with a single shining finger. Feeling his heart begin to beat faster and desire rush through his blood again, he slowly leaned down to capture Omi's lips with his own. His tongue traced the delicate red lips, and then slid inside, sparring briefly with Omi's tongue before exploring the velvety mouth that was offered to him. He jumped slightly as he felt Omi's hands run down his back, tracing the tight muscles down to his rear. He sucked in a breath, his body going rigid as Omi's hand lightly traced his buttock, delving into crevice for a moment before continuing its path around his waist. Unfortunately, as his hand came around, it encountered Ken's manhood, once more erect with desire. "Ken!" Omi gasped in surprise. He blushed slightly when he realized that it was he who made Ken feel this way. "Omi," Ken panted softly. His eyes were pleading as he gazed into Omi's expressive azure orbs. "I... I want you. I *need* you!" Omi flushed deeply, knowing exactly what Ken meant. He wiggled out of the older boy's arms, scooting off of the bed. Ken wailed wordlessly as the boy slipped from his reach, leaving him alone and frustrated on his bed. He watched as Omi searched through the clothes until he found his shorts. He rummaged through the pockets before his hand clasped over something and he pulled it out. Returning to the bed, he settled down next to Ken. He shyly held his hand out to the older boy. Unfolding his fingers, Ken found a tube labeled 'KY'. He looked up at Omi, wordless in his surprise. Omi flushed deeply. "I, um... bought it a few days ago." Ken gulped, his eyes wide as saucers. "Do you... want me to?" Hesitantly, the young boy nodded. He snuggled closer to Ken, feeling the boy's arousal against his leg. "I want us to make love," he whispered. Ken smiled, pulling the boy closer to kiss his forehead. "There are many other ways that we can make love without having sex, Omittchi," he said gently. Still flushed, Omi pulled away to look Ken squarely in the eye. "I want this, Ken," he said, his voice firm. Ken rolled over slowly, trapping Omi beneath him. He took the tube from the boy's hand, kissing the palm that had held it. "I'll give you what you want." Soon, with his kisses and caresses, he had Omi aroused and moaning once more. With gentle hands, he eased Omi's legs open. The young boy was willing, and he wrapped them around Ken's waist. Opening up the tube of lubricant, Ken applied it to his finger. He stroked Omi's length with one hand as his coated finger sought entrance to Omi. At first, the young body resisted his finger, but as he slowly caressed the warm insides, the muscles began to relax and accept the intrusion. Ken watched Omi's face intently as he slowly coaxed open his body. If any hint of pain flashed across his beautiful features, Ken promised himself that he would stop. There was no way he could do this if it hurt his lover. He pulled his finger out and recoated it, this time adding a second. Again, he pushed them slowly into Omi. The young boy bit his lip, trying to stifle the moans that wanted to burst from his throat. He felt Ken stretching him, and although it was a weirdly new sensation, it felt so good to his body, making his erection all but harder. Again, Ken removed his fingers. He took the tube in one hand and Omi's hand in another. The young boy watched him with curious eyes. Spreading his palm flat, Ken squeezed some of the lubricant into Omi's hand. Then, he guided the pale hand down to his arousal to spread it around to prepare himself. He bit back a groan and a shudder as Omi's hand caressed his length, covering his manhood with the oil. He poured some onto his own fingertips, once more seeking out Omi's private entrance. He began to gently spread the lubrication over Omi's tight hole. As he touched the boy's body, Omi's hand tightened on Ken's length, drawing a fierce growl from the older boy's throat. Reluctantly, Ken pulled Omi's skilled hands away from him, lest he come before even entering the boy. He pushed his arms over his head, covering his wrists with his own, large, rough hand. He pushed himself up to Omi's tight entrance, his eyes questioning Omi's once more. "Are you ready, Omi?" he asked softly. Omi nodded, closing his eyes. He had heard it would hurt, and he was prepared. "I'm ready, Ken." "Please tell me if it hurts. I'll stop if it does." Omi smiled up at the worried older boy. "It'll hurt, Ken. Just like before when we made love. But it'll fade." He leaned up and stole a kiss. "Don't worry about it, please." Ken nodded slowly, not really wanting to agree. Holding onto Omi's slim hip with one hand, Ken pushed himself slowly into the tight body beneath his. At first, he felt Omi tense up, and instinctively, his body began to push at the invader. Ken whispered soft words, moving his hands to Omi's back to stroke the tenseness out of him. "Shh," he said softly. "Relax and let me in. It'll be fine. Shh..." And finally, he was in. His reassuring words faltered and died off as he registered the feelings that now coursed through him. Omi's body was tightly grabbing onto his own, as if with a cushioned vice that sent waves of pleasure running through Ken. He knew that if he stayed like this, Omi's tightness would squeeze his orgasm out of him. Holding onto the slim hips, Ken slowly pulled out. Below him, a constant soft moan came from deep within Omi's chest. As gently as he could, he began to create a rhythm, of pulling out and pushing farther in. The more he moved, the quicker Omi's body relaxed, accepting the impalement. And soon, with every thrust, Omi was crying out in pure pleasure, wanting more of the glorious feeling. And Ken obliged him. He took Omi's hard erection into his hand and began pumping him in time to his thrusting movements. Omi was dying in exquisite pleasure, each new pump or thrust reducing his body to a delightful jelly feel. Ken gritted his teeth, the hand that held Omi's hip tightening. He knew that he was going to explode soon, but he wanted to hang on. Ken wanted more of the cries from Omi's sweet mouth and the delicious feel of his body. He wanted to treasure the feeling forever. But as he was finally sent over the edge, groaning loudly as he spilled his seed, he realized that Omi would be his forever. Every night they could make love and relive this magnificent moment. With a shriek, Omi also came, spilling his seed into Ken's hand. Ken collapsed on top of Omi, clinging tightly to the flushed boy. They held onto each other for long moments before Ken finally raised himself and pulled out. Omi shuddered and moaned, reaching out blindly for Ken. Ken settled down beside the boy, pulling the covers over them. Omi cuddled against Ken's chest, his leg entwined with Ken's dark one. Their fingers braided together between their hearts, and their lips sought one more kiss before sleep claimed them. "I love you, Ken," Omi whispered, setting his head on Ken's shoulder. "I love you too, Omi," Ken said softly. Something in his voice made Omi looked up, fighting off sleep. "Ken," he questioned. "Is something wrong?" He was startled to see a tear creep out from under Ken's eye and trickle down his cheek. "Do you... regret it?" he asked, his voice barely audible. "Never!" Ken whispered fiercely, crushing Omi to his chest. "I'll never regret it." He smiled down at Omi, *his* Omi. "I'm just so happy. I feel so loved and fulfilled and..." He was silenced by a kiss. Omi smiled, kissing the tip of Ken's nose. "Shh," he whispered. "I feel the same way. Now let's go to sleep before your babbling keeps us up all night." Ken looked to the window as he drew the young boy to his chest. "But it's only late afternoon..." "Shh!" Omi hissed, bonking Ken on the head with a pillow. "We're not moving all night." Ken sighed theatrically. "And here I though we were supposed to do something tonight..." Omi winked impishly before closing his eyes. "Our plans are still on." Ken grinned, sighing as he closed his eyes. "I can't wait." ~~~~ PART THIRTY-NINE Aya glanced over to watch as Yoji walked across the shop, carrying an armful of roses. Red roses, Aya noted dully, the same color as his own hair. The hands that held the broom tightened and his cheeks colored slightly, but he couldn't pull his gaze away. Yoji looked up suddenly, meeting Aya's plum eyes. "Aya?" the older man questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Ahh, nothing!" Aya stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He looked around. No one was in the shop except them. He took a step forward, his face anxious. "I was just... wondering how you were doing, since..." "I'm fine," Yoji snapped, turning his eyes back to the arrangement he was going to create. He had caught the flinch of hurt across Aya's pale features though. With a sigh, he raked a hand through his hair and turned back to the redhead. "I'm sorry, Aya. I didn't mean to snap at you." A faltering smile appeared on Aya's thin lips. "I- it's okay. I was just... worried." "Yeah, well," Yoji said, picking up a red rose. "You really don't get over lost love in a day." The silent moment was ruined as the door banged open, chimes rattling furiously as schoolgirls poured in. Their frantic chattering filled the store as they all pretended to look at the flowers, but instead gazed at the two young men. "Where's Omi and Ken?" one girl wailed. A smirk twisted Aya's lips. "They had to go to the supply store," he lied. How else was he supposed to them that the two younger assassins had found love in each other's arms? Although Ken and Omi thought they were discreet, they didn't know how thin the walls were, and how loud their moans really were. Aya began to regret having a room next to Ken. A fresh wail of piercing voices filled his ears as they bemoaned their Ken and Omi-less fate. He sighed and went back to sweeping the floor of brittle flower petals, his mind still working over Yoji. Since they had returned, Yoji had been much quieter. He talked in a low voice to the girls in the shop, but not with the energy and gusto he once had. He talked of the weather and of flowers, but never of dates and girls. When approached by some of the older, bolder girls, he would beg off, saying he had plans, or didn't feel like it. Aya watched sadly as the older man half-heartedly made conversation. Since the day they had returned, Yoji would not talk of their time there, and especially would not mention Seth. And Aya had never seen Yoji cry since the day they had walked back from the mansion together. And Aya was worried. His eyes constantly strayed to the other assassin, staring in concern until his gaze was noticed. He knew that Yoji didn't like him worrying over him, but the redhead couldn't help it. His own heart hurt to see Yoji in so much pain, more pain than when he had lost Asuka or Maki. He wanted so badly to try to ease the pain, to help the older man to smile again. Oh, how Aya wished to see a real smile on his face again! "Our absence?" Yoji asked, his eyes wide. The furiously blushing girl in front of him nodded emphatically. Yoji sighed and pushed his shades to the top of his head. How was he to explain where they had been for the past week? It would be a little hard to convince them of the fantasy land they had lived in. They'd never believe him if he told the truth, and there would be no harm in it. They'd just think he was creating a story for their enjoyment. Shrugging, he said, "We were transported to another world." "Another world?" the girl gasped. Behind her, two other girls joined the conversation. Yoji nodded, carefully selecting a rose that had been cut the right length. He began to wedge it between two carnations. "Yeah," he said, concentrating on his work. "A fantasy world, and..." "You mean like those cheap romances?" one girl piped up. "Ahh, Yoji!" another cried despairingly. "Was it as romantic as those books?" "You *read* those, Yuriko?" The girl in question blushed, lowering her head. Before she could protest, her friend grabbed Yuriko's school satchel and rummaged through it. Triumphantly, she held up a copy of the latest Harlequin romance. Yuriko turned bright red at the sight of the book. Yoji watched, shaking his head with a sigh. He didn't notice as Aya wandered over to watch, standing behind the older man and peering over his shoulder. "Like this, Yoji?" the girl asked, holding it in front of his face. Yoji coughed, his cheeks coloring slightly. /Yeah, exactly like that,/ he thought dryly. /Except the half-naked girl on the cover was Seth.../ He shrugged nonchalantly. "There was some romance there. But the world I'm talking about is different..." He trailed off when he saw that no one was listening. "May I see this?" Aya asked, taking the book from the girl's hand. The girl blushed profusely, but let the redhead take the book and examine the cover. He laughed slightly and turned to Yoji, holding it up and pointing. "I found this book on the shelf at Aithne's mansion!" Yoji smiled back, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Really?" he asked in an amused tone, cutting a length of ribbon. "Yeah," Aya breathed, his smile crumbling. He shoved the book back at the girl and stalked away, grabbing his broom and beginning to sweep with a renewed vengeance. "Aya?" a few of the girls questioned. Yoji sighed. He knew that Aya was mad because he hadn't really paid any attention to him. But would he blame him? He was still depressed over Seth. Hell, it had only been five days since they had returned! Of course he was going to still be upset over it. He shook his head, mumbling slightly. Aya just had to accept it, whatever his problem was. "Just leave him alone," Yoji advised in a low voice. He ignored the girls, concentrating on the arrangement. This flower here, and that one there. He wasn't here to worry about Aya's problems as well as his own. And his problem at the moment... /Seth.../ ~~~~ A soft knock came on his door, but he didn't feel like answering it, or even calling out. Yoji sat on his windowsill, the screen pulled up so he could hang his legs out. The ashtray beside him was overflowing with cigarette butts, and the one in his hand was freshly lit. Every night, he went through the same ritual. Empty cigarette packs littered the floor as evidence of the many days that had passed. And here he sat, on his second pack for the day, staring at the moon with dull eyes. His mind was not on the scenery though, but on the face of a beautiful boy, who lived worlds away. The door clicked softly open, and another click signaled it closed. Yoji didn't even move to look. He already knew who it would be. "Aya," he stated. "Yoji," Aya acknowledged softly. He stood with his back against the door, his fingers searching for the lock, reaching it and throwing the bolt. Yoji looked down at his cigarette, his mind sluggishly wondering how it had burned away without him taking a drag. He angrily stubbed it out as the redhead approached. He reached over for the half-empty pack and shook out another. Aya grabbed the cigarette that poked out. "Aya," Yoji growled in warning. He didn't want to argue about his smoking habit, not now. The redhead raised a fine eyebrow, a slight flush on his cheeks. "Mind if I join you?" he asked casually. Yoji's verdant eyes opened wide. "Aya," he breathed. The younger man just shrugged. Taking one for himself, Yoji grabbed the lighter and flicked it into life, holding it out to Aya. He lit Aya's cigarette and then his own, taking a long drag. He watched in amusement as Aya held it in his fingers, looking at it in faint confusion. Realizing that Yoji's eyes were on him, Aya put it to his mouth and took an experimental pull. As he coughed and sputtered over his first cigarette, he heard Yoji's deep laughter. The cigarette was plucked from his fingers, and Aya foolishly tried to grab for it. "Aya," Yoji said, reprimand in his voice. "I don't mind smoking alone, you know." Aya flushed deeply, slowly raising his eyes to look at the older man. He held both cigarettes in his mouth, puffing on both of them. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, laughing loudly. "Kinda like a, um, indirect kiss, you know?" Yoji looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah," he agreed vaguely, turning to stare at the moon again. "Look, Aya. I don't want to talk, okay?" Aya leaned against the wall next to the window, his dark eyes focused on Yoji's tired, lined face. "What if I said I didn't come to talk?" Surprised green eyes met his own. "Then what are you here for?" Aya pushed away from the wall and stepped toward Yoji, reaching out to put his hand on the older man's shoulder. "You know how I told you that I loved someone." "Yeah," Yoji said warily. "I love someone other than my sister." Yoji swallowed dryly. "Who's that?" Aya leaned in, his face close to Yoji's. "I love," he breathed, his lips hovering centimeters over the older man's dry, parched ones. "I love... you." He leaned in, gently pressing their lips together. His tongue darted out to trace Yoji's lips, seeking entrance. Reluctantly, Yoji parted his mouth and let Aya's probing tongue in. They sparred for dominance for a moment before Yoji finally overpowered the redhead. They pulled away, their need for air greater. Yoji's emerald eyes stared into Aya's, searching. "Wh- why?" he finally gasped. "I know I can't replace him," Aya said, his eyes dark and unreadable. He took Yoji's hands in his own, pulling him away from the windowsill and towards the bed. "But let me comfort you in your grief. Let me ease your pain." He crawled onto the bed on his back, tugging Yoji. The older man leaned over the redhead, his hands on either side of the slim waist. Aya's lips traced the curve of Yoji's ear. "Let me *love* you as he would have done..." With a hoarse cry, Yoji roughly grabbed Aya's arms and jerked him up, crushing their lips together. His hands raked over the redhead's arms and back, clawing his pale skin with want and desire. Aya was frightened by Yoji's aggressiveness, but couldn't push the older man away. He wanted this as much as the other needed it. He knew that this would be the way to show Yoji how much he loved him and that he was here for him, even in the midst of his grief. And so they made love. But it wasn't full of love, only need. Aya needed Yoji, and Yoji needed physical comfort. Each needed someone to hold, and Aya's love for Yoji brought them together. It was more than Aya could ever have dreamed of. Yoji was a skilled lover, and their lovemaking was beautiful. And when they lay together afterwards, Yoji's gentle lips still caressed Aya's pale skin, letting the redhead sink into a wonderful bliss, cuddled close by the warmth of the older man's body. Days passed, and everyone noticed the change in Aya's personality. He teased the boys, smiled at the girls, and frequently laughed at almost everything. Everyone was stunned by the sudden transformation, and no one could explain it. When asked, Aya would not answer them, and Yoji would only shake his head with a sigh. Although Aya's demeanor had drastically changed, Yoji's did not change at all, and after a day or two, Aya began to worry. They had spent the last few nights together making love, but Yoji seemed to get no comfort out of it. "Yoji," Aya asked, his voice echoing slightly in the empty shop. "What?" Yoji asked, his voice hard. He kept his eyes on the money he was counting. Aya grabbed his hand, the other snaking up to catch the older man's chin and make him look at the redhead. "Yoji!" Aya cried softly, his eyes confused as they tried to read the emerald ones presented to him. "What's wrong? I know that... you grieve still, but I thought that..." "That by fucking you it was going to help me forget Seth and love you?" Yoji shook his head. "I'm sorry, Aya, but things don't happen that fast." Aya moved behind the counter, sliding his arms around Yoji's waist from behind, resting his cheek against the broad back. "I'm here for you, Yoji. I always will be. I won't stop until you... until you love me," he finished with a blush. Yoji turned in his arms, kissing the top of the fire-colored head. "I *do* love you, Ran. But... maybe not in the way you want me to." Aya snuggled close, feeling warm and protected in the embrace. "I just want you to get better. I don't want to see you suffer anymore. Let me help you..." He leaned up and kissed Yoji softly. Yoji pushed him away gently. "Go to bed. I'll finish up here." Aya made for the door, but turned, his face bright red. "Will you...?" Yoji nodded, already absorbed back into the money. "Yes, I'll be up later." Aya smiled shyly, reaching for the door. "I'll be waiting, then." Aya felt as if the whole world had been opened back up to him. He grabbed some clothes and made for the shower, thinking the whole time of Yoji. He had come to love the other assassin, cherishing him deep in his heart. He wished that he had fallen in love with him before the world change, and then maybe Yoji wouldn't be going through such grief. Aya sighed, stepping in under the hot water. Every night, they made love, sometimes more than once. Yoji was wonderful, learning quickly how to please his novice lover without ever hurting him once. He knew where to touch Aya in just the right spot that would make the redhead see stars before his eyes and make his body shudder in intense pleasure. Aya hoped that Yoji was getting the same delight out of their activates. But as Aya had said before, it didn't look as if his attentions were helping Yoji any. He tried his best to please the older man, letting Yoji have free reign over him. And yet, still the man was sunk in his depressed thoughts of lost love, of the young boy who was still in the other world. Aya was honest with himself. He was jealous of Seth. Just the name made him flare up in anger, anger that he didn't dare show to Yoji. The young boy had seduced Yoji so quickly, with only a kiss, and here Aya could barely do that, even with all that he had given the other man. And the fact that Yoji still longed after Seth made Aya ever angrier. *He* wanted to be the only one in Yoji's heart, not second best. He dried off and readied for bed, knowing that Yoji would come visit him later. All day, Aya looked forward to night and the activities it brought with it. He loved falling asleep in Yoji's warm embrace, feeling his gentle lips caressing his neck and shoulders, his face and lips. And when he woke, before the sun rose, he would shake Yoji awake and kiss him good-bye as he left before the others awoke to find out. As the door opened, Aya's heart leapt with joy. He rushed to the entryway of the small apartment, throwing himself into Yoji's arms, kissing his face madly. Never before had the redhead experienced such a love like this, and it was those feelings that made him so anxious and ecstatic, so unlike himself. It was if a new part of him had grown from the love, which did things that surprised even him. They were undressed before they reached the bed, kissing madly, their hands stroking roughly. And like on all the other nights, they made love. Aya pulled every feeling from his heart and kissed Yoji with it all, touched him with the love he felt. He wanted to make the other man realize how much someone cared about him. For all their frenzied actions before, their lovemaking was slow. Aya thought that Yoji wanted to savor the moment, as did he, remembering every feel and kiss in his mind and heart. And so, after holding on for so long, they both reached their climax. Aya cried out softly, biting the back of his hand to stifle the sound. Yoji grunted, his eyes shut tight. As their bodies began to relax, Aya felt sleep descending upon him. Yoji still held himself up above the redhead, his eyes still closed tightly. "Yoji?" Aya asked, reaching up to touch the sweaty face. "Seth," Yoji whispered. Aya froze, his whole body tensing and his blood running cold. That name. The name he hated and detested. Yoji had never spoken it before. Yoji had called *his* name before. While everyone still called him Aya, Yoji would use Ran in more intimate conversations. Anger flared up in Aya and he pulled his hand away from Yoji's cheek. But then a realization hit him. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much love he put into everything, Yoji would never love him back. His heart belonged to Seth, the boy who lived in another world. And Aya would never claim any part of that. Yoji may love and care for him as a friend, but he would never love Aya the way he wanted. Never a romantic moment between them, never a date, never a flirt in the flower shop. They would never be together. /I'm a fool,/ Aya thought to himself, tears coming to his eyes. The coldness that had first come over him when the name was uttered remained. He closed his eyes, and could almost feel it as the ice barrier reconstructed itself around his heart. He thought he had found someone to trust and love and that that would be returned to him. /He'll never love me. I've only blinded myself from the truth for so long./ Yoji's arms trembled and he began to lower himself, expecting to be wrapped in Aya's long arms, pressing hot, sweaty bodies together to sleep. But Aya had rolled away. His knees came up to his chest, his eyes closed tight against the pain and tears. He didn't want to cry in front of Yoji. What would happen now? Would they just return to being friends? It was too painful for Aya to think about. He clasped himself tighter, trying to still the shakes that rattled his body. As if understanding, Yoji turned so that they lay back to back, but not touching each other. He didn't comment when soft sobs began to issue in the darkness. Aya bit his lip, trying so hard to quiet them, but they kept breaking forth. The pain was unbearable, and he felt his spirit cracking in the wake of such a powerful onslaught. And so, they lay like strangers through the night. At the break of dawn, Yoji quietly rose, dressed and left. Aya had not moved, still holding onto himself tightly as he tried to stop the pain. But the memory of the whispered voice ran through his head again and again. He knew nothing would be right ever again. He had lost his sister, a dear friend, and now the man he loved. /Aya, Cordelia, Yoji... I'm a fool,/ he thought, in pure misery. ~~~~ PART FORTY It was late at night. Moans down the hall told him that Ken and Omi were going at it for the second time that day. Those boys couldn't wait to get their afternoon break and for the shop to close. Yoji shook his head, creeping down the hall. He reached Aya's door and opened it. He knew that Aya would be awake and waiting in bed. He walked through the dark room, shedding his clothes as he went. It had been a week since he had whispered Seth's name. He knew that that had been the reversal moment for Aya. The redhead's heart had broken, and the sunny personality that had showed itself for two days totally disappeared. The younger man never smiled anymore, and never laughed. Wouldn't even let a smirk touch his lips. He was colder than ever, barely even stopping to talk to anyone. And yet, he still came. And Aya took him. He came every night, and Aya gave him his body. It wasn't even making love as it had been those first few nights. Now it was just pointless sex. Neither got pleasure out of it. It wasn't even physically pleasing anymore. And when they were done, they'd always roll away from each other, never touching, and falling asleep before the sun rose. He laid there, his back to Aya's. He hadn't meant to crush Aya's dreams by uttering that name. He liked how the redhead had blossomed, changed personalities. He felt a little tinge of regret at what he had done, but it was quickly silenced. He hadn't meant to break Aya's heart, but now, in the midst of his grief, he didn't care. And so every night he came. Neither of them cared anymore. Yoji wondered why they didn't just break this off. They had sex, the only sound in the room was their harsh breathing, not even a moan or grunt. Neither of them needed the sex, but still they carried on the charade. Pretending in a way that everything was still okay between them. But it wasn't. Aya wouldn't talk to anyone, and Yoji sunk deeper into his depression and grief. He knew that soon it would start to affect the missions. And then Persia would do something about it. And he didn't care. If they killed him, so be it. Ken and Omi would miss him, but Aya would be relieved. And maybe, with his death, he would be able to find Seth again. He hadn't cried since the night before they had left. He wouldn't cry, he had promised himself that. There was no point in shedding tears. It made him feel weak and alone, and those were two feelings that he didn't want. He lay there in the dark, sheets clutched to his chest. He closed his eyes, and there was a beautiful face waiting for him. Dark ebony locks fell in warm brown eyes. The blackness of the hair contrasted with the paleness of the skin. His body was thin, but tough, not weak like it looked. His skin was like velvet, the softest feeling the assassin had ever felt. The way he had felt during lovemaking, the way his mouth tasted, the way he cried out in the heat of passion. Yoji knew that he was truly alone. He had crushed Aya's caring nature, and Ken and Omi were too occupied with each other. He would never see his lovely boy again. The young man that he loved with all his heart, so much that he could never put fully into words. If only he could see him again, touch him, love him once more. A tear worked its way out of his closed lid and slid down his cheek. Several more followed. He couldn't keep back the pain anymore. It was overwhelming. Into the dark of the night, where no one else was listening, he whispered, "Seth..."
~~~~
Heartbroken
I see you there,
in the shadows,
a perfect silhouette
in my doorway,
painfully lovely.
Shadows like fire;
Kiss the burning lips
of desire,
feel this heart that
beats for you.
Flash of hope,
fleet of dream;
I think you almost smiled.
But the image shattered,
the mirror shards fell,
and I bled.
Use me,
then,
don't love me.
Emotion strong like fire,
you didn't taste it
on my lips.
I tried to show you.
Change like the ocean,
like the wind that blows smoke;
Heartbroken.
You refuse to change.
Flash of hope,
I tried so hard;
My heart is like the mirror.
Don't come too close,
lest your feet brush
glass.
And yet,
you stand there,
my black sun rising;
You crushed my hope,
but my arms stay open.
You're twisted and cruel,
heartbroken;
But I still love you.
And for embracing you -
I'm twisted and cruel,
heart-shattered.
But you still fuck me.
God of my sins,
hallowed by thy name;
Thy kingdom come,
they will be done
a torture unto me.
Give me my daily hope
and let it be shattered;
Forgive me my trespasses
as I forgive he
that trespasses against me.
Led into temptation,
delivered in evil.
For the shame,
the blood,
tearful deception are ours -
Now and forever.