LOVELESS FIC: JUST HOLD BACK. part b
Read part A.
part b.
Oi -- Hey.
Ano -- Uhm, hm.
Hai -- yes.
Nani -- what.
Kio studied the slender angle of Soubi’s shoulder blades, watching unhappily as the young man retreated out through the door of the apartment.
The door closed with a small click, but to Kio, it was loud enough to pierce his eardrums his nerves were wired so tightly.
He shot a glare over at Seimei, who was sitting on the other side of the couch, his eyes falling languidly upon the glossy pages of the magazine upon his lap.
Normally, Soubi would grow very uneasy if Kio was rude to Seimei, so Kio “toned himself down” for Soubi’s sake. But with Soubi gone now, Kio didn’t have any intention of controlling what he said any longer.
“Out of all the beers I bought - you’re telling me you couldn’t find one that you could tolerate?” Kio blurted out accusingly.
He was still fuming over why Soubi had gone out into the night, leaving him alone with Seimei.
It had only been a few minutes after Kio and Soubi had begun to store away the packages, that Seimei had chose to join them. Casually he had commented that he didn’t favor any of the drinks sprawled out upon the kitchen counter.
And to Kio’s horror, Soubi had reassured Seimei that he in turn would go out and buy Seimei what Kio had forgotten!
Seimei turned the page without raising his eyes to Kio.
“I do not drink beer, Kio, I drink water. If Soubi had done his own shopping he would have known that.”
Kio sulked, his fingers twitching by his side. How was it that Seimei was able to speak words that sounded so condescending about Soubi, yet articulate them with such affection as well? No way in hell he could actually have any feelings for Soubi. Kio refused to believe that.
“Then why make him go out in the middle of the night?” Kio said, obvious displeasure sharpening his voice. His skin was crawling with having to be in the same room with Seimei - alone, no less. How did Soubi stand him? “You got a problem with drinking sink water or something?”
For a moment Seimei’s brow wrinkled. And then he chuckled, more to himself it seemed, and he gave a bemused shake of his head.
“Bottled water is fine for me. And I didn’t make Soubi do anything, Kio - he offered to.”
Kio scowled. Something about the way Seimei said his name made him sound like he regarded Kio as some one lacking intelligence. And the familiarity in which he used with Kio was slowly grating on his very last nerve.
“Besides,” Seimei smiled, lifting his face to Kio for the first time since Soubi had left. “I want to get to know Soubi’s friend better.”
Kio narrowed his eyes.
“I don’t know why you’re even bothering,” Kio said testily, “I’m not your friend and I don’t intend to be. So why the hell do you even want to try to get to know me?”
Seimei’s tone sounded like he was dealing with a child that he needed to be patient with.
“Because you are a friend of Soubi’s - his only one, I might mention. And as one who is of interest to Soubi, you become an interest to me as well.”
Kio wasn’t satisfied. Of interest to Soubi? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Good God, Seimei made his head hurt.
“That’s stupid,” he muttered, “I don’t give a damn about you, so you shouldn’t give a damn about me.”
Seimei’s slender brows rose faintly above the elegant slant of his dark eyes.
“I’m surprised Soubi puts up with your abash language, Kio.”
Kio resisted the urge to relieve Seimei of his voice box.
“Is that so?” Kio snapped curtly.
“Hm.”
Kio’s anger festered inside of him.
“Well, I think after spending all these months with you, Sou-chan’s grown used to putting up with all kinds of ‘filth.’”
Kio’s eyes lurked out from beneath his mused bangs, sliding towards Seimei’s. Fiery blue locked with the unwavering calm of Seimei’s black eyes - but Kio refused to break away.
If Seimei had comprehended the implication of Kio’s words, he seemed unperturbed by it.
“Hm, perhaps,” Seimei replied, closing his eyes with a graceful calm, “but you know, Kio, Soubi has learned how to handle a great many unpleasant ordeals that, in the past, he may have never thought possible of him to endure.”
Kio felt his stomach twist.
“It’s a beautiful thing, the body; how it is able to succumb without complaint when it is trained to.” Seimei’s eyes met Kio’s now. “Don’t you think, Kio?”
The devil smiling behind the mask of a saint. Yes, that is what Kio saw glimmering behind those subdued eyes of Seimei’s.
And Kio could not tear his eyes away, could not wrench himself free from the spell Seimei was weaving around him, enticing him into - Kio’s entire body felt like something disgusting beneath Seimei’s gaze.
And Kio knew, watching Seimei now, that for the rest of his existence, he would never lay eyes on such a creature as repulsive as the one sitting before him now.
Kio’s lips parted.
But before he had the chance to respond, a blast of cold air whipped across his face, announcing Soubi’s return and shattering the darkness slithering from Seimei’s eyes.
Kio jumped to his feet, eager for the distraction,
“Sou-chan, you’re back!”
Kio abruptly grabbed Soubi by the arm and pressed his face against Soubi’s ear. He gritted his teeth, whispering, “It only took you long enough - don’t you ever leave me alone with that bastard again, you hear me?”
Soubi pulled his face away with a little frown of confusion. His eyes flickered over to Seimei, before returning back to Kio’s very reddening face.
“What’s wrong, Kio?” he asked, puzzled.
Kio shot a glare over to Seimei, who was watching him now, with those ever unnerving eyes of his, shadowed beneath the slender arch of his brows.
Kio huffed in agitation, but said nothing. Why the hell he even bothered to complain about Seimei anymore was beyond his comprehension. Soubi wouldn’t listen to him, and even if he did, he wouldn’t dare speak against his precious “master.”
His eyes trailed across the room to where Soubi allowed his heavy wool coat to slip from his shoulders; as he bent down to hand Seimei the drink he had so willingly retrieved for him. Kio’s brow twitched in unbridled resentment as Seimei’s fingers brushed against Soubi’s - his expression revealing some trace of approval. And Soubi seemed content with simply that, moving back to the side of the room he had previously secluded himself to when Kio had first arrived.
Nausea curled within Kio’s gut, spreading through his veins, infecting his thoughts by the sight before him.
And he could not help but think to himself in despair, ‘Sou-chan . . . you’re like a dog to Seimei whenever he’s around.’
“Your friend is quite the talker, isn’t he, Soubi,” Seimei mused, his voice sliding through the air and jolting Kio from his thoughts.
Why did he suddenly feel as if he was slowly being consumed by Seimei’s presence? He was like an infection, crawling upon Kio with every passing second.
Kio swallowed, but the sugar from his chuppa tasted sour to his tongue. Just what was Seimei implying now?
He glanced over at Soubi, whose graceful figure leaned against the front wall, arms folded over his chest; and the slivers of light cast from the nearby window slanted shadows across his stoic expression.
Seimei reclined comfortably against the cushions of the couch, one leg folded over the other as a gentleman might sit. He even looked like a gentleman, with his hands clasped elegantly upon his lap, and his clothes composed impeccably upon his lean body.
Seimei’s beauty revolted Kio. But at the same time, his beauty . . . was so familiar as well.
It was strange, and Kio had never given it much thought before, but Seimei and Soubi really were quite similar in certain instances. They both possessed a calm beauty about them; long and slight figures that moved with captivating elegance - enthralling the watcher to want more of their presence.
But for all of Soubi’s reserved nature, his quietness of tongue, there was something truly different about him that set him apart from Seimei.
Soubi possessed innocence. Oh, perhaps it was not so clear to one who would simply regard him with a glance - Soubi’s dark attire and secretive smiles, the cigarettes so familiar to his lips - may have made a person think Soubi far from “innocent.” And Soubi lacked his ears - the very things that branded him “pure,” in the eyes of others.
But behind Soubi’s passive eyes, was something . . . human, a childish curiosity to learn more about the simple things that drifted careless around him.
It was endearing, really.
There was nothing endearing about Seimei - not in his smile, not in the way he moved, or spoke or regarded others. Not even with his ears, did Seimei seem to possess anything childlike. Seimei was a “god” - a twisted saint whose cruelty hid behind those piercing eyes of his. Kio shuddered just thinking about Seimei’s eyes. And Seimei’s face - beautiful and flawless, as if dissatisfaction had never graced his features. Oh, but Kio was sure it had - it must have! Kio was all too familiar with Soubi’s broken body - the stench of blood on ripped flesh - no one could break a person like that and still have a beautiful face when doing so.
Kio glared at Seimei now, hot energy coursing through his veins, reviving him.
He plucked the chuppa from his mouth, throwing it into by the garbage can by the side of the couch. It bounced off the rim and fell by Seimei’s foot. And Kio felt a wave of triumph at seeing the displeasure ghost Seimei’s eyes at being touched by such a “disgustful” object.
Soubi shifted uneasily in the darkness shrouding him.
“Yes, I talk a lot,” Kio snapped, infuriated by the superiority Seimei calmly emitted. He fished out another chuppa from his pocket unwrapping it with a vengeance. He tucked it into the corner of his cheek. “Excuse me, for doing so. But I’ll talk however damn much I want to, Aoyagi-san.”
Sarcasm oozed from his words, and he noticed Soubi stiffen. But Kio was far too heated now, his skin felt flushed with adrenaline, and his heart thudded so loudly the blood roared in his ears. He wanted to lash out with everything he possessed - maybe it was an unconscious desire to speak out on behalf of Soubi, who would never be able to say anything against Seimei’s sickening demeanor. Maybe Soubi never had any desire to, but Kio’s mind wasn’t forming coherent thoughts now. And the next words spilled from his mouth without restraint:
“I’ll do however I please. I don’t have to answer to you, or succumb to you or train my body to handle anything you dish out to me. Unlike Sou-chan, I am not your lap dog.”
The words shattered through the air.
And Kio blanched at the sound of his thoughts spoken aloud -- the air around him seemed poisoned by what he had so stupidly allowed to be spewed from his tongue. Shame filled his every fiber, a crushing sense of dread.
‘Lap dog . . . ‘ what had he just said? How could he have possibly . . . spoken like that about Soubi? Oh God . . .
The silence was deafening, and Kio couldn’t understand how such a thing could be probable.
“’Lap dog’?” Seimei echoed, his voice barely rising.
Kio felt sick inside. The bile in his throat was nearly choking him.
Seimei turned his face towards Soubi, whose gaze was now lowered; it seemed that Soubi was a mere shell standing there.
Where had Soubi withdrawn to?
Seimei rose to his feet, moving soundlessly across the floor to Soubi’s side.
His smile held no affection.
“Did you hear that, Sou-chan?” he asked softly, raising his hand to touch Soubi’s lower lip. He ran his finger across the supple flesh. “He thinks you are my lap dog. Oh, that’s terribly amusing. Your friend really is quite the verbal fellow; doesn’t hold anything back.”
Kio twisted his mouth, hating the way his term of affection for Soubi sounded defiled when uttered from Seimei’s lips.
Kio swallowed, but his tongue clung to the bottom of his mouth and he failed. He wanted to flee; he wanted to wretch; he wanted to escape Soubi’s beguiling silence - he wanted so much so desperately. But his muscles had become immobile, as if he had lost control of his very will.
Is this what it was like to be controlled by Seimei? Good God, how did Soubi . . . survive every night of this?
Seimei’s narrowed eyes slid over to Kio, enticingly. He whispered, “I don’t hold anything back either.”
Kio felt the blood drain from his face - yet he couldn’t look away! And Seimei was smiling - oh, that chilling smile of his - and Soubi hadn’t moved, hadn’t allowed his eyes to register any acknowledgement of what was occurring between Seimei and Kio.
Kio’s mind suddenly flickered to the memory of Soubi’s chest, of the marking carved there - and the countless scars ridden upon Soubi’s pale flesh - and the blood! oh, how Kio could remember the blood staining Soubi’s chest from the previous nights.
Kio felt sick, realization settling heavily upon him.
What had he done? How could he have spoken so defiantly to Seimei like that? Yes, Kio could speak without fear of punishment, Seimei could never harm him - would never want to!
But . . . Soubi . . .
Just how many nights had Seimei punished Soubi because of his distaste for Kio’s attitude towards him? Just how many times had Soubi bore the blunt of Kio’s stupidity? Never once complaining, never once blaming, simply just accepting.
Kio lowered his gaze. It was clear Seimei didn’t like being around Kio, he never had - he had simply tolerated him and then inflicted his displeasure upon Soubi.
Must leave - yes, too stupid to stay here any longer.
Perhaps if Kio could some how sooth the tension suffocating the air around them, if he could only do something to lessen Seimei’s wrath . . .
He turned and hastily gathered his things.
“I guess, I just came at a bad time,” Kio apologized, feeling awkward and inferior suddenly. He hated this - succumbing to Seimei like some pitiful creature. But he wasn’t thinking about himself now. He was thinking about Soubi - selfless, obedient Soubi . . . “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
Painful to stay here any longer, that tremulous uneasiness haunting upon his mind, and Kio longed for something calm once again - it felt ugly to stand in this room any longer, with the thin pitch of the television humming through the air; and Soubi’s silence - devouring Kio most of all.
Kio bit his bottom lip, feeling the wet flesh pierce beneath his teeth; a salty liquid filling his mouth. Just how could he leave now? He thought of Soubi again, with his empty eyes and humble innocence - lovely Soubi, he would not resist his master tonight, no matter what was inflicted upon him.
Something pushed at the back of his throat, words threatening to pursue past his lips and into the sound waves. Dare he say it though? Would it only bother Seimei more?
Kio swallowed. And then took the plunge.
“Aoyagi-san,” he said hesitantly. His eyes peered over his shoulder, to where Seimei had moved to sit comfortably before the television again, his back to Kio. For a moment, his courage faltered, and Kio thought it best to simply leave, no respect in his tone could possibly affect Seimei now. But Kio could feel Soubi’s presence, subdued in the shadows. And so he finished quietly, “Aoyagi-san, please . . . go easy on Sou-chan tonight.”
No response from Seimei. Of course not. Just the emptiness of the room, and the rain falling, softly, outside the windows in the gentle darkness. Kio would have to walk home in the rain tonight, but somehow he couldn’t focus on that. It just didn’t matter now.
Kio looked down, crestfallen. But there was nothing he could do now.
He did not catch the faint change in Soubi’s composure; how Soubi lifted his head, slowly, eyes beguiling and tender as they trailed towards Kio’s retreating form.
Kio’s fingers closed around the cool metal of the door handle when he heard it - that voice - low, calm, and spoken with such tender affection Kio thought he may have imagined hearing it at all.
“Soubi, show your friend to the door.”
Kio halted, glancing over quickly at Seimei.
Confusion. How was it Seimei could change so drastically in only so short a time? And Kio stared at the silent fellow, his brows twisting.
Seimei titled his face towards Kio. And he smiled.
“Come, Kio.”
The blond jolted from his revere from the voice so near to his ear. Soubi’s hand on his wrist, tugging for him. And he nodded dumbly, in return.
Finish at Part C.