Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Tsuyameku: Kyoumu ❯ Tsuyameku: Kyoumu ( One-Shot )

Standard Disclaimers:

Okay, okay, it's still the same old drill. I still don't own Gundam Wing or those kawaii little bishounen. Nataku protects me . . . so, if you be wronged, bring it, now!? *audience sweatdrops* But I did, however, write this story. It is born of my own insanity, my views on life, and some bothersome recurring dreams of a certain person I wish would just drop off the ends of the Earth and never exhibit his ugly head again. And the most important thing for you to remember while reading this . . . most everything is here for a reason. A character seems to say, do, and think the same things repeatedly, no matter how OOC they seem . . . then it's meant to be that way. Oh, maybe this should be in warnings . . . *sweatdrops* sigh, oh well . . .

Warnings:

Angst, . . . a damn or two here or there, and some sexual themes. *hehheh* So as far as that goes, mostly, just expect lots of confusion. ^_^

Special Notations:

*sounds* • "Dialogue." • Thoughts
/admitted thoughts in the rift between awake and dreams/ [1]

Tsuyameku: Kyoumu

[To be beautiful: Inauspicious dream]

By Duo no Tsuin

*Crash* . . . came the waves against the dark cliffs. Shattering like slivers of glass, they scintillated as they soared toward the sky . . . only to fall again. Back into the dark blue depths . . . the coolness . . . The sea is always there . . . churning . . .

*Crash* "I miss you . . . " I hear myself speak aloud. He, the sea, calls. And I could easily drown in there . . . let the depths of the roaring sea take me . . . steal me away from this life . . .

*Crash* . . . the breaking waves call. Go with it . . . maybe. Perhaps one day I'll let go . . . perchance, one day . . .

*Crash* . . . into the depths. I hear it, the deep blue sea . . . and I see it. Deep as the ocean and twice as dark, the blueness calls to me, beckons me. Yes . . .

*Crash* . . . down . . . deep down . . . I transcend . . . yes, I do . . . deeper . . . but what's this? Hu- a shape dancing in the blue . . . it's seaweed . . . dark, brown, and flowing . . . flying . . . Yes . . . oh, how I want to run my fingers through those dark tresses . . . As I reach out to touch it . . . it moves . . . evading my grasp . . . No, please . . . please . . . don't go . . .

*Crash* . . . merely a whisper, now . . . now darker . . . a deeper . . . no, purer blue . . . further . . . I look down. Wha- white . . . tan . . . light . . . soft . . . sand . . . I stretch my hand down . . . please, God . . . let me touch it . . . almost there--

/ . . . his eyes . . . they're so dark . . . so inviting . . . his hair . . . oh, how I want to run my fingers through those dark tresses . . . and his skin . . . please, God . . . let me touch it . . . /

"Huh!?" I awoke with such suddenness that I nearly inhaled the pillow beneath my head. Since when do I sleep on my stomach . . . ? It was true. My body was planted firmly with my face, chest, and stomach to the pillow and sheets. I groaned. And, beside me, the bed shifted.

"Daijoubu desu ka?"

"Wh-"

"You were tossing and turning . . . were you dreaming again?"

Hn. Dreaming . . . again. Sometimes it seems like that's all I do . . . I turned my face toward him and the curtain of hair blocked my view. "I'm sorry if I woke you, I didn't mean-"

"Shh. It's all right." He pushed my hair away from my neck and face.

"What are you-" I started to get up.

"Don't move." A gentle pressure on my shoulders held me there. His cool finger tips brushed the exposed skin at my neck. "Don't move . . . just . . . " Hot breath kissed my skin as his hands sought my wrists. Guiding my shaky hands upward, " . . . be . . . " he placed them beneath my head.

I was still so tired . . . but it didn't matter. All that matter to me was him . . . and what the prospect of his touch could do to me. Cold and roughened fingertips danced over the sensitive skin at my neck on a cushion of air. Darting first down and then away, he mocked my restraint. He wanted me to submit to his touch . . . and I did. But I remained silent. L

His evenly drawn breath radiated over me, causing my flesh to tense in anticipation. Sometimes I tire of these games . . .

"Tell me what you want."

A new sensation assaulted my senses. Oh God, no . . . anything but that . . .But it was happening . . . the quest was invigorating. My heart raced. . . . he mustn't know . . . And as the quest sought my pulse, his lips teased it . . . drew strength from it.

I turned my head away . . . and only succeeded in driving my betrayer closer to his gentle mouth. If only those lips would move . . . continue . . .

I shivered. One of his free hands had snuck its way beneath the back of my nightshirt, turning my body into a burning need of melting ice. I never understood how anything could feel sweltering and freezing at the same moment . . .

Ever since the first sight of him . . . God, it feels ages ago . . . I've wanted nothing more than this . . . but I had a more . . . opposite idea in mind . . . something much more worthy than my pleasure . . . was his loss of control. But now, it seemed the tables had been turned.

I needed to see him . . . I wanted to touch him . . . to create as much frustrated desire within his lean form as he had within my body . . . No. I wanted to aggravate him more . . . But I was still in no position to change anything.

"Please . . . " My speech was broken into husky gasps. My most natural skill had abandoned me.

His hand on my lower back had been moving in small circles, but with each passing moment they drew larger perimeters . . . drifting over the veritable edge of the world . . . beyond to the never before reaped. And on the most recent pass I nearly groaned aloud as his finger tips passed my naval and went lower. Voices of lust and sin told me to do nothing but enjoy . . . and I wanted nothing more than to comply.

Gratefully, the pull of elastic jolted me back. "Please . . . " My throat constricted, wanting only one sound to escape my lips . . . Throaty whispers are not easily brought out. " . . . stop But he didn't . . . he paused. And that gave me just enough time to follow up.

Reluctantly, I pushed my traitorous body upward and turned. At least then I could chance a glance into his dark eyes. What I saw paralyzed me. And soon, I was falling back into the consumption of my own body, soul, and heart . . . oh, how I sometimes hate the intensity and desire in those mysteriously penetrating eyes . . . or was that just a reflection of my own cravings? Perhaps one day I will know the answer . . . but not then . . . not with eyes pleading . . . yearning . . . Hn. I always thought he could read my thoughts . . . I could tire of always being right . . . "Please . . . "

"What is it that you truly want?"

Such a question deserved an equally honest answer . . . but I had none.

He didn't move . . . and somehow I didn't want him to. His eyes rarely conform to my decrees . . . my desires, however . . . well, sore wa himitsu desu . . . Moving so slow that one could doubt their movement, the dark orbs caressed me . . . violated me, and impassioned me . . . all without any physical contact. Aching, my body burned to be touched . . .

"Please . . . " My breath chooses to abandon me now . . .

His lips twitched.

Damn him . . . he's so sexy when he smirks . . .

The cruel assessment began at my feet. His fingertips traced the lines of my soles as if I might break beneath his touch. I shied away from the chill pushing my foot into his grasp. Locking his eyes with mine, he drew my foot closer. His eyes were on fire, and now . . . so was I.

I barely noticed his head lowering as he met my foot halfway, blocking my view of his mouth. At that moment, I was numbed to the world of all things . . . excepting his eyes. I would not purposely break the gaze . . .

A damp tongue darted into the sunken and sensitive skin of my ankle. My eyes slammed closed as I gripped the sheets. Oh, God . . . Hot lips brushed the thin flesh, revealing my erratic pulse. His lips formed a smirk. Damn you . . . my mind cursed. Damn you, for making me want you so . . .

"Is this what you want . . . ?" Wickedly, his tongue darted forth again. Oh, God . . .

My lungs cried out . . . panted in urgency . . . with nearly enough fever to inhale my lower lip. It was getting too hot. Wanting to forego a haphazard pre breakfast meal, I bit down, shaking my head. No.

"Hm . . . " Extending my leg toward him, he drug his mouth from the sensitive spot . . . trailing his lips along the curving underside of my calf. "Tell me . . . "

If I could speak . . . maybe.

His hot breath stung the, perhaps, most sensitive area of all on my limb . . . behind my knee. With the tip of his tongue he drew circle after circle on my flesh . . . pressing his lips onto my pulse once again. "What is it?"

I couldn't take much more of this . . . this sweet agony. I was a powder keg packed to the brim . . . all I needed was a glimmer . . . a lone spark . . . and then all my inhibitions would come crashing down . . . consuming us.

His lips continued his suppressed intent. Resting my aching limb on his well-defined shoulder . . . he moved further with his intent . . . lower with his questing desire . . . "What do you want . . . "

And then there he was . . . breath teasing me and mingling with my scent- it's all so fishy, really. [2] How can he stand it . . . "I . . . "

He paused. I could feel his eyes burning into me . . . searching and all I could do was writhe beneath that cool gaze . . . I was not the only one who was just slightly frustrated. They were much too tight. [3]

None too gently, he nipped with polished teeth at the flesh of my inner thigh . . . "Is this what you want?" Nearing the point of harshness, he threw his lips against the skin. "Is it?"

"I . . . " What could I say? What could I do? I couldn't take much more . . . tighter, my eyes clutched. I could suppress my exasperation no longer. So I did all that I could do, at the moment . . . Eyes clenching even tighter with enough vigor to implode the orbs, I groaned in frustration.

Okay, sure, that was what he really wanted me to do . . . but not like that. And it wasn't on my top ten list of Most Desirable Sounds either. [4] "I . . . " My eyes were so tight, I could feel what moisture was there being squeezed out . . . squeezed like a lemon of frustration, uncertainty, and emotion . . . I didn't want him to see any of it.

My eyes felt so warm, the turmoil creating a mysterious friction . . . but the rest of me felt cold. My body shook. "I want . . . " . . . to be told I'm beautiful . . . just once. Please, tell me I am . . . Warmth.

Instantly I felt my limbs freed and his arms encircling me, pulling me toward his warm body.

He was so strong . . . so warm . . . and what was I? Nothing. Nothing but a foolish kid. A foolish little girl seeking assurance from that shoulder . . . "Shh . . . it's all right," he soothed with his deep voice.

And then it happened. "I . . . want . . . " All the emotions within me were festering, dying to be released . . . still here after all those years . . . " . . . you." With that one word admitted, all the rest came pouring out. My eyes, brimming with hot tears, leaked unheeded.

*pit pat . . . pit pat . . . *

Onto the taught skin of his bare shoulders they fell. "All I want . . . is you . . . even if only once . . . and even if you don't love me . . . just let me love you . . . please . . . "

I don't know how long that moment lasted. I don't know how long it took his hands to go from rubbing my covered back in comfort to rubbing the skin beneath. I didn't care. That simple touch . . . that longing caress . . . that was all I knew. That small contact did so much for me . . . so much to me . . .

I felt the question deep within: the cry, the question, the wish . . . the word . . . "More." Did I just speak the word? Did that word of all meaningful words just pass the barrier of my neglected lips? Yes . . . neglected . . . dry . . . expectant . . . waiting for the touch . . . the search for the truth in my words . . . and heart.

A touch so gentle on my eyes shocked me from my reverie . . . reappearing, the magician produced his left hand . . . and to reality. The most gentle caress . . . lighter than a kiss of the wind . . . removing all sorrow and pain . . . bringing only happiness. I think I made one shocked sound, then. But I didn't care. I barred so much of myself to this boy . . . slowly, I opened my eyes . . . no, a man gazed back into my eyes . . . "Koi . . . " closer . . . to my heart . . . " . . . you are . . . " closer . . . to my soul . . . closer . . . " . . . bea-"

*Bu-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz*

* Bu-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz*

"Uh-no-no!" Reaching for the bedside clock, I slammed my hand downward . . . and reached back to that place . . . that world where anything was possible . . . "Heero . . . " . . . but it would not come . . . he would not come . . . not now . . . not ever . . .

I opened my eyes.

*5:37*

That clock just loves shouting at me. I groaned. The alarm was set for 4:30.

I'm late . . . again." Slowly, I sat up. Why won't these dreams stop . . . I should move on . . . I have to . . . but I can't . . . I can't let go, not yet, Heero . . . I'm sorry.

Crestfallen, I stood up. "I'm sorry we are so different. You, with your life, and me with my . . . responsibilities."

With a distaste I never had, I held my clothes, arms outstretched, as if they were soaked with the poison of a thousand black widows. I regarded the form staring back at my own nakedness. Hn. And so very black indeed . . . Sighing with sadness that nearly tripled each morning, I dressed.

Breaking my flawless silence that only the lonely can fathom . . . there came a curt knock on the large wooden doors.

"I'm com-ing!" I shouted in the haste of my frazzled state of being. Walking quickly as if desperately seeking my own restoration, I added, "Um, I mean . . . please do come in."

I opened the doors with all the grace of a child pulling a stretched limousine. I sighed, managing a small smile. Framed, I saw the face of my newest pain and yet somehow . . . "What is it?" . . . almost a friend.

"Your presence is requested in the main hall."

"On whose orders?" I asked lingering in the shadow of distaste.

Lustrous teeth grinned apologetically. "Why, it's not an order . . . simply my grandfather's request."

I sighed forlornly. "All right. Just let me finish preparing for such an audience, Dorothy."

"Come now, Miss Relena. As always, you look simply . . . beautiful . . . "

Owari . . . perhaps.

*chuckles* Need to read that one again. I don't blame you. ^_^ And if you do, listen to the words and hear what story the narrator is really telling. *wink wink*

Mad at my "insanity?" Then do something healthy with that madness . . . and email me, Duo no Tsuin at duo-tsuin@diaryland.com Want more? Wanted less? Want a sequel? Wish I had ended at the top line of the page? Well, whether it be flame, praise, or query, be warned . . . I love 'em all!! ;P *singing The Doors* "Come on, baby, light my fire . . . "

[1]a] Read the warnings? Those are, literally, "admitted" thoughts, but the rest of the story . . . ?!

[1]b] A place where you're still dreaming and your conscious (awake) mind speaks. Still desire a more detailed description? Email me!! ; P

[2] Um, how should I put this . . . I hang out with guys and they "claim" that a woman smells/tastes like tuna. *is back stage puking* Sorry, just another clue to whom our story teller is.

[3] In case you can't tell, I mean his pants!!

[4] Heh. Sounds like an interesting top ten list, ne? Want to read the list? Want to suggest a character POV version? Well, as always, I accept all feedback/recommendations.