Fic: Crimson Sunset (Part 3)
Title: Crimson Sunset
Pairing: Adam/Hiro, Adam/Ando, Hiro/Ando
Rating: R
Description: This is the last part of what turned out to be a series. The order goes: Screaming into the Wind,
Discovery,
Meeting.
First part: here
Second part: here
Summary: Ando gets a very unpleasant surprise.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own words.
I came around to tear your little world apart. And break your soul apart.
“Vow” Garbage
I don’t have to wait long for proof that he’s read the scrolls. I figured that the sword was here; he wouldn’t leave it in New York and he certainly didn’t carry it with him on the plane. Sure enough, I found it lying on the table at his apartment the day after he returned to work. He didn’t know I was there, of course. I snuck in the same way that I did into your apartment: I picked the lock. I thought that I’d have to search the entire place for it, but he didn’t think to hide such a valuable item. Although, he probably considers it to be your sword rather than that of Kensei Takezo. I’ll have to correct that assumption. I checked the hilt. Empty. That by itself didn’t necessarily mean anything. Daniel could have taken them out after he appropriated it for himself. He’d had his eye on it ever since I told him its history, though I left out the part about me being its original owner. That aspect of my life I’ve always kept closely guarded. You and I are the only ones who know about it. But soon, your lover will, too.
I confirmed that he’d read the letters that very afternoon. I spotted him coming out of the Museum of Cultural History, his face alight with a look of wonder and bewilderment. At the pub that night he was distracted, his eyes skimming the air as if looking at something that wasn’t there. But I could see what it. I know exactly what words his mind was recollecting, playing them in a loop like a song that refuses to leave you be. He didn’t accept my advances this time, giving me the old “early start tomorrow” excuse I’ve heard so much of on TV. It might have worked on someone else, but I know that he goes to work at exactly 8:30 every morning, including the two days after we had sex far into the dawn hours. The same thing happened the night after. But last night… Last night was really something. We didn’t go out. I just showed up at his door and he invited me inside. He took me this time, harder than I ever took him. There was no patience, no slow, building rhythm. He rushed at me with the fierceness of someone who wants to extinguish the thought perched in the forefront of his mind. I’d wager this very sword that it was you bothering him so. He’d reached the last letter and now its contents were nibbling at his insides, leaving his raw nerves naked to the open air. I recognized my own pain in him. You really are special, Hiro, to be able to affect two people so strongly. We sought you in each other, fucking until our limbs gave out and even my throat was raspy from crying out so much. It’s strangely fitting that our last time should be so imbued with your presence. You’re what brought us together, after all.
I wish I could stay longer, but you are due to come back any day now and I need to finish this before you do. I want to do it at least once before you return to this moment and stop me, because I know you will. You have to. There’s no way you’ll let this stand. Or perhaps I'll never get to that moment at all. Perhaps the next time I see you will be on the roof of the Deveaux building in New York, just as I ready myself to spring at your father. My skin is already tingling just from thinking about seeing you again. But that will come later. Now I wait in Ando’s apartment for him to come back from work. I’ve left the letter I wrote all those years ago on the small table beside the door where he puts his keys so that it’s the first thing he sees when he walks in. I conserved it well, keeping it on my person at all times so that even after the Company guards threw me in that cell I was able to hang on to it. All the words are perfectly legible, the creases staining the paper not so horrible that you can’t make anything out. It’ll be the first time that anyone besides me has ever touched it. I already have the sword in hand. It wouldn’t do to use any other instrument.
I hear the door knob rattle and I disappear into the kitchen, standing right by the entrance. Bright light flares as he flicks the light switch, followed by the clinking of the keys striking the table. The soft thump of his portfolio dropping on the floor, then silence and the soft whisper of unfolding paper. I hear a murmured “What the hell?”. The words within the letter must be as confusing as its sudden appearance. He might even be coming to the conclusion that it’s a hoax of some kind, though that wouldn’t explain how it arrived. I wait for him to finish. It’s taking a while. He’s probably reading it more than once. I see his shadow drift across the floor, approaching the kitchen. He doesn’t see me as he passes by, completely absorbed by the letter.
I step into the main room, keeping the sword behind me in line with my leg so that he doesn’t see it. Perceiving my movement, he jumps with a startled shout, quickly turning around.
"Adam?" he says, gaping at me, his voice as perplexed as his face. "How did you get in here?"
“I picked the lock,” I say simply. There’s no reason to be coy anymore. “I’ve been doing that since we arrived from New York.”
As I speak, the confusion on his face starts giving way to fear. His body tenses, his eyes flickering to the doorway behind me, but I have that way blocked. To his left is the kitchen wall; to his right there’s still an open gap before he reaches the bed. I’m sure he notices it as well, though he makes no move toward it yet.
"Who are you really?" he asks, his voice hardening.
"I'm Adam. It's my real name. And I'm the one who wrote that letter you're holding there. About 300 years ago if I remember right."
"300 years? You can‘t have lived that long."
“I’ve lived quite a bit longer than that, actually. You see, death doesn't stick to me very well."
“You can’t die?”
“Oh, I can die. I just won’t stay dead for very long.”
"You can't be immortal. It's impossible."
"So is manipulating time and traveling through space as if they were your personal toys. And yet we have a mutual friend who can do just that."
He’s shaking his head, the sudden knowledge too much to swallow. "And you're in love with Hiro?"
"As are you, it seems. But you're the lucky one who got his feelings returned."
"Why are you here? Why did you wait until now to tell me this?"
He’s inching toward the right. I let him. He won’t get far.
"I wanted to get to know you a little first. I've been wondering about you since I first read those scrolls."
“Was that what the sex was about? You just wanted to…” He doesn’t finish, but the disgust on his face says enough.
“Hiro loves you. I wanted to know what he loved so much. And I made him a promise."
He hesitates, the question half-forming on his lips but he’s afraid to say it. When he finally asks, the words come out slowly.
"What promise?"
I bring the sword forward. Naked fear flashes across his face and he dives to the side, but I’m there before he can reach the bed, lifting the sword to his neck. He backs away, but there’s no place to go. The wall rises behind him as I close in and soon his back is pressed against it. There’s no place to run. But a stubborn resolution enters his eyes. My letter flutters to the floor as his hands clench at his sides. He’s a fighter. I’m happy to see it. I wouldn’t expect your lover to be the type to simply beg me for his life.
"You killed Hiro's father," he says fiercely.
Perceptive as well.
"Yes. Though that wasn't Kaito's only crime."
“What did you do to Hiro? If you’ve hurt him--”
“I’ve done nothing to him that he hasn’t done to me.”
“What does that mean?”
“He betrayed me, so I repaid the favor in kind. Don’t worry, I haven’t injured him physically. I couldn’t do that.”
“So instead you want to destroy his heart by murdering those he loves? How is that any different?”
I move closer to him, so close that his breath heats up my neck. I tilt the sword so that it’s aligned to the length of his torso, the tip of the blade hovering just above his neck. He glances at it, his breath stumbling for a second.
“This way,” I say, “he’ll have to live with it. Just like I have.”
He looks back up at me, accusation rife in his face. “Hiro was your friend.”
“A friend who stabbed me in the back and then hoped that I wouldn’t notice. And it wasn’t only me. You read that last letter, didn‘t you, the part where he said he kissed her?” Hurt flashes in his eyes. I lean down, my face inches from his. “I know that’s where all that passion came from last night. I could taste the pain on your skin, feel it brimming into me as you came inside me. I didn’t imagine that.”
He doesn’t look away from me, not for a moment, but he wants to. His face is pained, his breath unsteady. Yet a stubborn resolution comes into his eyes.
“You’re right. Hiro betrayed our trust. It hurt me. But you and I aren’t alike. I could never allow anyone to hurt him the way you have.”
Sharp pain flares in my chest. I fall against the wall. A pocket knife. There’s a pocket knife sticking out of my chest. Straight in my heart. I can’t breathe. I can barely move my hand enough to yank it out. The knife slips from my fingers. The flesh is already closing. He’s scurried away, already all the way across the room. I stumble, my chest burning, but I seize him by the arm before he can reach the door. He punches me, disorienting me for a second, but it’s not good enough. I hit him in the ribs with the hilt of the sword. He doubles over, gasping, and I grab him by his shirt and push him hard against the wall. He cries out, his face twisting with pain, but when he finally looks up at me all I see is hot defiance.
“Hiro will stop you.”
“I’m sure of that. But not this time.”
I raise the sword to his chest. He doesn’t glance at it this time, his eyes fixed on me. This isn’t like with Kaito. All my anger burned away when we hit the ground. Now I feel too much. Every emotion I’ve ever felt is crawling inside me like parasitic worms feasting on my nerves. I look into his eyes and I see you.
Ending 1
Pairing: Adam/Hiro, Adam/Ando, Hiro/Ando
Rating: R
Description: This is the last part of what turned out to be a series. The order goes: Screaming into the Wind,
Discovery,
Meeting.
First part: here
Second part: here
Summary: Ando gets a very unpleasant surprise.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own words.
I came around to tear your little world apart. And break your soul apart.
“Vow” Garbage
I don’t have to wait long for proof that he’s read the scrolls. I figured that the sword was here; he wouldn’t leave it in New York and he certainly didn’t carry it with him on the plane. Sure enough, I found it lying on the table at his apartment the day after he returned to work. He didn’t know I was there, of course. I snuck in the same way that I did into your apartment: I picked the lock. I thought that I’d have to search the entire place for it, but he didn’t think to hide such a valuable item. Although, he probably considers it to be your sword rather than that of Kensei Takezo. I’ll have to correct that assumption. I checked the hilt. Empty. That by itself didn’t necessarily mean anything. Daniel could have taken them out after he appropriated it for himself. He’d had his eye on it ever since I told him its history, though I left out the part about me being its original owner. That aspect of my life I’ve always kept closely guarded. You and I are the only ones who know about it. But soon, your lover will, too.
I confirmed that he’d read the letters that very afternoon. I spotted him coming out of the Museum of Cultural History, his face alight with a look of wonder and bewilderment. At the pub that night he was distracted, his eyes skimming the air as if looking at something that wasn’t there. But I could see what it. I know exactly what words his mind was recollecting, playing them in a loop like a song that refuses to leave you be. He didn’t accept my advances this time, giving me the old “early start tomorrow” excuse I’ve heard so much of on TV. It might have worked on someone else, but I know that he goes to work at exactly 8:30 every morning, including the two days after we had sex far into the dawn hours. The same thing happened the night after. But last night… Last night was really something. We didn’t go out. I just showed up at his door and he invited me inside. He took me this time, harder than I ever took him. There was no patience, no slow, building rhythm. He rushed at me with the fierceness of someone who wants to extinguish the thought perched in the forefront of his mind. I’d wager this very sword that it was you bothering him so. He’d reached the last letter and now its contents were nibbling at his insides, leaving his raw nerves naked to the open air. I recognized my own pain in him. You really are special, Hiro, to be able to affect two people so strongly. We sought you in each other, fucking until our limbs gave out and even my throat was raspy from crying out so much. It’s strangely fitting that our last time should be so imbued with your presence. You’re what brought us together, after all.
I wish I could stay longer, but you are due to come back any day now and I need to finish this before you do. I want to do it at least once before you return to this moment and stop me, because I know you will. You have to. There’s no way you’ll let this stand. Or perhaps I'll never get to that moment at all. Perhaps the next time I see you will be on the roof of the Deveaux building in New York, just as I ready myself to spring at your father. My skin is already tingling just from thinking about seeing you again. But that will come later. Now I wait in Ando’s apartment for him to come back from work. I’ve left the letter I wrote all those years ago on the small table beside the door where he puts his keys so that it’s the first thing he sees when he walks in. I conserved it well, keeping it on my person at all times so that even after the Company guards threw me in that cell I was able to hang on to it. All the words are perfectly legible, the creases staining the paper not so horrible that you can’t make anything out. It’ll be the first time that anyone besides me has ever touched it. I already have the sword in hand. It wouldn’t do to use any other instrument.
I hear the door knob rattle and I disappear into the kitchen, standing right by the entrance. Bright light flares as he flicks the light switch, followed by the clinking of the keys striking the table. The soft thump of his portfolio dropping on the floor, then silence and the soft whisper of unfolding paper. I hear a murmured “What the hell?”. The words within the letter must be as confusing as its sudden appearance. He might even be coming to the conclusion that it’s a hoax of some kind, though that wouldn’t explain how it arrived. I wait for him to finish. It’s taking a while. He’s probably reading it more than once. I see his shadow drift across the floor, approaching the kitchen. He doesn’t see me as he passes by, completely absorbed by the letter.
I step into the main room, keeping the sword behind me in line with my leg so that he doesn’t see it. Perceiving my movement, he jumps with a startled shout, quickly turning around.
"Adam?" he says, gaping at me, his voice as perplexed as his face. "How did you get in here?"
“I picked the lock,” I say simply. There’s no reason to be coy anymore. “I’ve been doing that since we arrived from New York.”
As I speak, the confusion on his face starts giving way to fear. His body tenses, his eyes flickering to the doorway behind me, but I have that way blocked. To his left is the kitchen wall; to his right there’s still an open gap before he reaches the bed. I’m sure he notices it as well, though he makes no move toward it yet.
"Who are you really?" he asks, his voice hardening.
"I'm Adam. It's my real name. And I'm the one who wrote that letter you're holding there. About 300 years ago if I remember right."
"300 years? You can‘t have lived that long."
“I’ve lived quite a bit longer than that, actually. You see, death doesn't stick to me very well."
“You can’t die?”
“Oh, I can die. I just won’t stay dead for very long.”
"You can't be immortal. It's impossible."
"So is manipulating time and traveling through space as if they were your personal toys. And yet we have a mutual friend who can do just that."
He’s shaking his head, the sudden knowledge too much to swallow. "And you're in love with Hiro?"
"As are you, it seems. But you're the lucky one who got his feelings returned."
"Why are you here? Why did you wait until now to tell me this?"
He’s inching toward the right. I let him. He won’t get far.
"I wanted to get to know you a little first. I've been wondering about you since I first read those scrolls."
“Was that what the sex was about? You just wanted to…” He doesn’t finish, but the disgust on his face says enough.
“Hiro loves you. I wanted to know what he loved so much. And I made him a promise."
He hesitates, the question half-forming on his lips but he’s afraid to say it. When he finally asks, the words come out slowly.
"What promise?"
I bring the sword forward. Naked fear flashes across his face and he dives to the side, but I’m there before he can reach the bed, lifting the sword to his neck. He backs away, but there’s no place to go. The wall rises behind him as I close in and soon his back is pressed against it. There’s no place to run. But a stubborn resolution enters his eyes. My letter flutters to the floor as his hands clench at his sides. He’s a fighter. I’m happy to see it. I wouldn’t expect your lover to be the type to simply beg me for his life.
"You killed Hiro's father," he says fiercely.
Perceptive as well.
"Yes. Though that wasn't Kaito's only crime."
“What did you do to Hiro? If you’ve hurt him--”
“I’ve done nothing to him that he hasn’t done to me.”
“What does that mean?”
“He betrayed me, so I repaid the favor in kind. Don’t worry, I haven’t injured him physically. I couldn’t do that.”
“So instead you want to destroy his heart by murdering those he loves? How is that any different?”
I move closer to him, so close that his breath heats up my neck. I tilt the sword so that it’s aligned to the length of his torso, the tip of the blade hovering just above his neck. He glances at it, his breath stumbling for a second.
“This way,” I say, “he’ll have to live with it. Just like I have.”
He looks back up at me, accusation rife in his face. “Hiro was your friend.”
“A friend who stabbed me in the back and then hoped that I wouldn’t notice. And it wasn’t only me. You read that last letter, didn‘t you, the part where he said he kissed her?” Hurt flashes in his eyes. I lean down, my face inches from his. “I know that’s where all that passion came from last night. I could taste the pain on your skin, feel it brimming into me as you came inside me. I didn’t imagine that.”
He doesn’t look away from me, not for a moment, but he wants to. His face is pained, his breath unsteady. Yet a stubborn resolution comes into his eyes.
“You’re right. Hiro betrayed our trust. It hurt me. But you and I aren’t alike. I could never allow anyone to hurt him the way you have.”
Sharp pain flares in my chest. I fall against the wall. A pocket knife. There’s a pocket knife sticking out of my chest. Straight in my heart. I can’t breathe. I can barely move my hand enough to yank it out. The knife slips from my fingers. The flesh is already closing. He’s scurried away, already all the way across the room. I stumble, my chest burning, but I seize him by the arm before he can reach the door. He punches me, disorienting me for a second, but it’s not good enough. I hit him in the ribs with the hilt of the sword. He doubles over, gasping, and I grab him by his shirt and push him hard against the wall. He cries out, his face twisting with pain, but when he finally looks up at me all I see is hot defiance.
“Hiro will stop you.”
“I’m sure of that. But not this time.”
I raise the sword to his chest. He doesn’t glance at it this time, his eyes fixed on me. This isn’t like with Kaito. All my anger burned away when we hit the ground. Now I feel too much. Every emotion I’ve ever felt is crawling inside me like parasitic worms feasting on my nerves. I look into his eyes and I see you.
Ending 1