Yami-nabe Contest - Kajornwan
Contest entry for YA, Fei-love, and hail_mik comm.
My words:
Rain
Obsession
David Bowie
Archangel
Whispering
Title: Remembering Angels
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None, well, unless you're allergic to children and Mik x Fei.
Characters: Fei Long, Mikhail, Tao, Yoh
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Yamane Ayano.
Note: My first attempt at writing a fanfic while on a stationary bike using my iphone (because I really really have no time but I must do this for the cause!), read at your own risk and I hope that you will not have wasted your calories reading.
One February night Fei Long sat by the bed he used to sleep in as a child. For some reasons, that day he felt like spending a night at his father’s old house. It was the place he grew up in - the house where hundreds of memories that mattered to him remained, intact and forever present in every piece of furniture and behind every closed door.
He looked around the room in silence as images from the past replayed themselves in his mind. That corner by his desk was where he used to sit crying for hours whenever Yan Tsui said something that upset him or when father gave him a look of disappointment after he’d failed at a task. On that sofa near the bed was where he used to sit for hours reading his books - a hobby Yan Tsui found dull and useless. But while there were many things he’d quit to please his brother and father back then, reading was one thing he’d refused to give up. It was his only escape from the real world - the only time when he gets to be himself without being judged or compared to anyone.
“Fei sama?” Tao who had been allowed to sleep on his master’s old bed that night called reluctantly as he noticed Fei Long had become quiet for a while.
“I’m sorry.” Fei Long adjusted himself and smiled at the boy. “I was just thinking about something. Anyway, it’s quite late. You should go to sleep.”
“Fei sama,” Tao said in almost a whisper. He didn’t want to disappoint his master or be a burden, but… “I’m scared.”
“Of what?” Fei Long asked, raising a brow in surprise. Tao was quite mature for his age and he rarely gets scared of anything.
Just then, the sound of thunder filled the room and Tao quickly covered himself with the blanket.
Seeing the reaction from the poor boy whose big brown eyes were barely visible as he peeked out from under the blanket he’d wrapped himself in tight like a wonton, Fei Long smiled and placed his hand on Tao’s head affectionately. He’d forgotten that it was raining outside and by then it seemed the storm was coming. On top of this Tao was not used to sleeping in this room. “You know, I used to be afraid of thunders too when I was a child.”
“Really?” Tao’s eyes opened wide in disbelief that his all mighty and fearless master was ever afraid of something. “What did you do?”
“Let me show you,” said the master as he slipped one hand under the mattress and moved from side to side in search of an object. When his fingers finally came into contact with something, a rare mischievous smile appeared on the Baishe leader’s face. “This is my secret,” Fei Long said as he pulled out an old book. By then its beautiful hard cover had turned slightly yellow despite its perfect condition otherwise. Even then, the bright blue color of the sky in contrast with the clean white cloud was still remarkably beautiful. But what really made Tao’s eyes widened in excitement was the golden-haired angels with fluffy white wings on top of the clouds.
“It used to be my most favorite book,” Fei Long explained, gliding his hand across the illustrations on the pages the way he used to when he was little. “Whenever I felt afraid, I’d flip through it and read all about the different kinds of angels. And then I’d feel safe, imagining that there’s an angel out there somewhere watching over me.”
The book of his treasure - one he felt the need to hide it under his bed for fear of it being destroyed by Yan should it ever be discovered. Just as much as he was obsessed with reading, Yan Tsui was obsessed with making him more ‘like a man’, whatever his interpretation of it was, and reading about angels was simply out of the question, among other things.
“Have you ever seen one, Fei sama?” Tao asked, blinking innocently as if he was certain the answer would be a positive one.
Fei Long paused for a few seconds as a memory he’d long forgotten suddenly came to mind.
“You know, I think I have.”
***
Twenty years earlier.
It wasn’t a common sight when young master Fei Long who always had impeccable manners would stomp down the hallway with his lower lip tucked in and tears pooling in his eyes. Father was having a big party that night and had given him a brand new cheongsam to wear for the occasion. It was a beautiful gold cheongsam with a big dragon stitching - one that Yan Tsui had to ruin by spilling black ink on it, resulting in him having to suddenly leave the party just as the guests arrived.
He didn’t want to cry, and father would not be pleased to see him acting so weak, but that day he could no longer hold back his anger or his tears. He was going to leave the party altogether and lock himself in his room forever, no matter how long that might be.
It must have been his overwhelming anger at the time that made him fail to notice another little person who was following him until his sleeve was caught and tugged a few times. “Leave me alone,” he said angrily as he turned around.
A boy who must be about his age even though he was somewhat shorter in height was standing behind him rubbing his eyes with one hand and holding tight the sleeve of his cheongsam with another, sobbing even worse than he did. He was wearing a black tuxedo and a bowtie, his hair was bright yellow and his eyes were the shade of blue that Fei Long had never seen before. Fei Long didn’t know who he was, but judging from his appearance, he must have come with one of his father’s guests.
“I can’t find my papa,” said the boy with a strange accent, still crying his eyes off.
Instinctively, Fei Long quickly wiped his own tears and stood up straight. He was, after all, the young master of the house and this boy looked like he needed help.
“Stop crying,” he said, trying to make is voice sound as firm as Yan Tsui’s. But what usually made him swallow his tears didn’t work on this boy, for he continued to cry even louder and clung to his sleeve even tighter. This must be, by Yan Tsui’s definition, a spoiled kid.
Fei Long sighed a heavy sigh and wondered why children could always find the courage to run away and then cry like babies when they get lost, and how he would never do such a thing. “Listen,” he said to the boy, now with his usual smooth and subtle tone. “My father always says that if you cry, the scariest spirit you can imagine will come and take you away,” he said in a whisper in an attempt to give the boy the impression that there might be someone or ‘something’ listening.
This time it worked brilliantly, for the boy immediately tucked in his lips and wiped his tears dry with his sleeve, his red chubby cheeks puffed up like two small balloons as he tried his best to stop crying. “You mean like the Goblin King?”
Fei Long closed his eyes and tried to contain his disappointment over how the boy’s image of the scariest spirit he could possibly imagine turned out to be David Bowie in Labyrinth. Then he wondered what the boy would think if he’d met Yan Tsui instead. “Something like that, yes,” he said. “And that if you smile, the angels will make everything all right,” that part he made up all by himself.
Somehow that, too, worked, for now the boy was standing in front of him smiling the biggest smile he could possibly produce, his big blue eyes lit up and sparkled like jewels and Fei Long had just noticed that those golden curls that wound wildly on the boy’s head looked just like one of the angels’ in his book - one of the archangels to be exact.
“Are you an angel?” asked the yellow-haired boy. He sure looked as pretty as one, especially in that gold outfit, even though stained with black ink.
Fei Long tried to hide his smile at those words. Especially when he was just thinking the exact same thought about the little boy just seconds ago. Strangely enough, after seeing that smile he seemed to have forgotten all about his stained cheongsam. “Come on, I’ll show you something.”
He took the other boy’s hand and led him into the library - a place he wasn’t usually allowed to enter without an accompanying adult. But that day he felt a little mischievous, and he thought the adults would be too occupied with the party to find out about it anyway.
Once they’d entered the room, while Fei Long busied himself searching for books to read, the boy with yellow curls caught a glimpse of something and began to climb up the desk for a better look. It was a jar full of glass balls in many colors that his father had placed on his desk for decoration - one he had always admired from afar because he wasn’t allowed to play with them.
“No, don’t touch it,” Fei Long warned. Father would be so mad if any of them were broken. But just as he’d finished the sentence, a blue glass ball fell off the table. To Fei Long’s horror, he quickly ran to pick it up only to find out that the ball had a small but clearly visible crack in the middle. This time he was the one who wanted to cry.
Seeing the worried expression on the other’s face, the boy with yellow hair placed a hand on Fei Long’s shoulder and gave him an innocent look of encouragement. “Don’t worry. If I take this one home with me no one will see that it’s broken. I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”
Fei Long looked up, surprised at the solution to the problem he couldn’t have come up with by himself. It didn’t sound quite right, but the boy wasn’t wrong either. No one would ever notice. “But what if…”
This time the boy took both his hands and held them tightly, looking at him with his big, round sparkling blue eyes as beautiful as the blue glass ball that broke and said confidently, “I promise I’ll protect you. I’ll be your angel.”
Even though the yellow haired boy was smaller than him and was the one crying like a baby just minutes ago, somehow those words felt reassuring. Fei Long then swallowed his tears, and, remembering his own words, smiled the biggest smile he knew how to.
In the end they’d promised each other to keep it a secret, and spent the rest of their time together reading books in the library. The boy did find his parents soon after and Fei Long didn’t realize until later that he’d neither introduced himself nor asked for the other boy’s name. Later when he’d tried to ask father about that boy, he was simply told that the boy was not to be his friend, and that he should never ask about him again.
Still, he thought that day had turned out to be one of the good days. At least having his cheongsam ruined didn’t turn out so bad. He was glad to have made a friend - a strange looking friend who looked so much like the angel in his book.
***
“So you’ve never seen him again since then?” Tao asked, disappointed.
“No,” Fei Long smiled and shook his head. Unfortunately, now that his father has passed away, he would never find out who that boy was, and even if he does, he was sure the boy with yellow hair wouldn’t remember him anyway.
“Fei sama, can we stay here until tomorrow night?” Tao begged. He was beginning to enjoy being in a new place just imagining what other stories his master would tell him about his childhood, and by then he’d forgotten all about the thunder.
“I’m afraid I have to go to an event in Macau tomorrow night. I’ll be back late. It’s better to stay at Baishe,” Fei Long explained as he tucked the boy in. “We can come here again some other time if you want. Good night, Tao.”
“Good night, Fei sama.”
***
The next night Fei Long attended the grand opening of a new casino hotel in Macau that he co-owned. Everyone who was anyone in the high profile circle was invited. As required by his position, Fei Long cruised through the cocktail party greeting the important guests with Yoh by his side giving him the information he needed when he needed it. It was one of the things Yoh excelled at - knowing everything there is to know about his friends and enemies and giving him such information with his unrealistically emotionless face. For example, “that woman next to him is his new mistress, not his wife,” or “that’s Mr. x, he once tried to rip you off,” and at times he would throw in some unexpected remarks such as, “the man wearing last year’s collection of Armani is Mr. Y,” and “Mrs. Q just had a cheap nose job.” He had to admit, having Yoh accompany him to these events made things much less boring, not knowing what kind of interesting information the man would manage to dig up to tell him about it.
That night was no different, but the crowd had turned out to be rather disappointingly boring, until Fei Long’s eyes caught a glimpse of an unknown guest that stood out like a sore thumb due to his modern Chinese-collared suit with neon green accent on the sleeves - one whose buttons had been left undone revealing the black shiny silk shirt with no tie, walking around in a black tie event no less. And judging from the fact that no one had tried to stop him from entering the scene, he had to be someone pretty big. But what really caught Fei Long’s attention was really the man’s bright yellow hair and vivid blue eyes.
“That’s Mikhail Arbatov, Vladimir’s first son. He’s just been sent to Macau to get the family a piece of the cake,” Yoh explained as he noticed Fei Long’s attention on the man.
“And that’s a new collection Shanghai Tang he’s wearing. It’s not suppose to be out until March,” Fei Long added before he marched forward in the direction of the new mafia figure on the scene without hesitation. The Arbatovs have always been on and off in business with Baishe during his father’s time, and those golden curls and baby blue eyes happened to remind him of something that made him far too curious to brush it aside.
“Liu Laoban,” the man who was previously engaged in a conversation with the Russian quickly turned around to greet him with a quick bow.
Fei Long nodded slightly before moving his gaze to the golden haired foreigner, gesturing for an introduction to commence.
“Mikhail Vladimirovich Arbatov, how do you do?” the Russian said with a smooth baritone voice as he held out his hand, to which Fei Long accepted and answered with a small but firm shake.
“Liu Fei Long of Baishe,” he introduced himself. There was a reason the man didn’t drop his patronymic, and such declaration of power should only be answered accordingly. “Welcome to China, Mr. Arbatov.”
The Russian paused for a few seconds and looked at him in almost a stare, obviously lost in his own thoughts. The man also seemed to forget entirely that he still hasn’t let go of the Baishe leader’s hand.
“Do you mind?” Fei Long asked as he gestured for his hand to be freed. All the while he couldn’t help but wondered if it was possible that the little boy who was quite a bit shorter than him could grow up to be so tall, not to mention fill up that nicely.
“Forgive my speechlessness,” Mikhail said with a smile he didn’t try to hide and promptly removed his hand. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful in my life.”
Somehow that comment didn’t sound cheeky, nor did it feel inappropriate. There was no sexual hint in the Russian’s expression, just pure and honest admiration coupled with a little bit of amazement. He’d never been given such a compliment in that way except from a small child. And while it felt rather flattering, Fei Long couldn’t help but feel disappointed that, from the reaction, this man might not be that boy from the past, or even if he was, he must have forgotten all about it entirely. “What a shame,” Fei Long responded with a restricted smile before he abruptly excused himself. Sure, he was still curious about the man but it was not an appropriate time or place to bring up the issue.
They didn’t exchange any words after that, but every once in a while their eyes would meet from different corners of the room. Fei Long didn’t know if it was because he kept looking at the man repeatedly or if it was the other way around. But at one point when he realized that the Russian was no longer in the banquet hall, he found himself wandering out into the adjacent outdoor garden with utter boredom. Unexpectedly, Arbatov was there, too. He was sitting on the bench with a flute full of champagne, looking up at the full moon whose glowing yellow was almost the same shade as his hair.
“Bored, are we?” Fei Long commented as he stepped into view and stood near the bench with his arms crossed neatly behind his back.
Mikhail turned around to see the man who intruded his solitude, smiled briefly and turned back to the haunting scenery he was watching. “Who wants to be inside on a night like this?”
“True,” Fei Long replied and made a gesture at the empty spot on the bench. “May I?”
“Sure, it’s not my hotel,” the Russian shrugged and moved himself to make space. “Yet,” he added with quick wink of his eye before he returned to sipping the fine champagne.
“We shall see,” Fei Long laughed quietly at the implication as he seated himself next to the Russian, keeping a considerable distance. “I heard you’ve moved here somewhat permanently. How much are you hoping to own?”
Faced with an unexpected question, Mikhail turned to look the other man’s in the eyes as if to make sure he’d heard correctly. It seemed the triad leader was rather different from the other Chinese he’d met. Regardless of his seemingly impeccable manners and unearthly elegance, the man was brutally direct and right to the point. Liu Fei Long of Baishe was certainly not a man to be taken lightly. “Moving right in for the kill, I’m impressed.”
“Wasting time is expensive, not to mention risky,” Fei Long replied. “How much?”
“Unfortunately, I’m not the kind of man who limit myself with goals.”
“The sky it is then?” Fei Long said with a smirk. He was, after all, Russian. Less is certainly not more.
Mikhail grinned without turning around. “Even that could become boring.”
Fei Long parted his lips a little and let out a sound of approval. “An ambitious man with a sense of adventure.”
The Russian laughed. “Ambitious, I’m not sure. But you will find that my sense of adventure is rather huge and at times uncontrollable, once you get to know me.”
“Well, I’m interested,” Fei Long said, narrowing his eyes as a certain plan came to mind. “Come to my place, we’ll talk.”
The champagne flute in Mikhail’s hand paused in midair just before it reached his lips. His glowing blue eyes stared into the other man’s for a brief moment before he began to laugh amusingly - a laugh that didn’t seem disrespectful but rather adorable. “Is it my imagination, or are you hitting on me?”
“Is that a problem?” Fei Long gave him a devilish smile as he peeked through the long lashes of his half-closed eyes. He wasn’t exactly hitting on the man, but at times a little flirting here and there pays off to get people where he want them to be.
“I’m straight.”
The Baishe leader just shrugged. “I can fix that.”
Hearing the answer, Mikhail laughed a very open and honest laugh. He knew there was something different about Liu Fei Long of Baishe, but that vivid personality was still a pleasant surprise. The fact that he was straight wasn’t a lie. But the conversation he was having with this too-beautiful-to-be-true triad leader who stood at the top of Hong Kong’s underworld was beginning to make him rethink his sexual orientation. “I swear if I ever turn gay in this lifetime, it would be for you,” he said jokingly, even though it wasn’t exactly impossible.
“Well?” Fei Long asked, keeping a serious and demanding expression.
“You really are dead set on taking me home tonight, aren’t you?”
“You should know, for future references, that when I extend a personal invitation, you either come nicely or I will kidnap you by whatever force necessary, although, I am counting on your huge sense of adventure to do the job.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Kidnapping and murder often came up as the top two things on his to do list and rejection is a word that a man in his position must avoid at all costs for the sake of reputation.
The statement placed a rather cunning grin on the Russian’s face. His sense of adventure was indeed being successfully tickled. “Well, if you put it that way,” Mikhail said as he rose from the bench. “Shall we?”
***
It was almost 11pm when they’d arrived at Liu senior’s old house. While Fei Long constantly tried to observe the other man’s reaction to see whether he would or should remember the place, Mikhail Arbatov walked around the house without a single change in expression. By the time they’d reached the library, Fei Long had partly given up on his quest, and decided to just drink the night away with the new companion. Luckily Mikhail Arbatov was rather entertaining, otherwise the evening would have felt like a waste.
“I used to love sneaking in here as a child to read these books, and my father would get so mad when he found me here without permission,” Fei Long said as he glided his hand along the collection of old books, some of which he still hadn’t had time to read. He didn’t know why he was talking about these things with a perfect stranger, especially one who was far too dangerous for him to be sharing personal information with. But that night he’d decided to blame it on the wine and didn’t try too hard to stop himself.
“It didn’t stop you, did it?” Mikhail’s voice sounded from behind, his uneven breaths brushed gently on the back of Fei Long’s ears.
“No,” Fei Long replied, keeping himself still on purpose as he felt his hair being touched and caressed.
“You like to play with fire,” the Russian said, now in a whisper right next to his ear.
Fei Long swallowed and closed his eyes. Mikhail’s breath was warm, unsteady, and it made his heart race in excitement. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. Not with this man, not even just for fun. But it was also for this reason that it was so hard to resist, and the fact that the man was so bloody handsome didn’t help either.
“I do,” Fei Long said as he turned around to face the other man who was now standing close enough that their noses nearly touched. “How is your sense of adventure now?” he asked, brushing his lips against Mikhail’s as his mind began to play around with the idea of taking this a little further than what he considered a ‘safe’ foreplay.
“I’m all in,” Mikhail’s words slipped in between Fei Long’s inviting lips as they kissed, reluctantly at first, then passionately soon after.
It must be Mikhail’s first time kissing a man, judging from the lack of confidence at first that soon disappeared and promptly replaced by the skills Fei Long had never tasted once the man kicked into gear. The Russian’s kisses were deep, demanding, desperate, and Fei Long soon found himself pinned against the bookshelf with the power he wasn’t prepared take on. A part of him wanted to stop, the other was feeding greedily on the desire he never knew existed. As he was struggling to make a decision, the collision of their bodies against the shelf caused a few books to fall onto the floor. Among them was a small journal with mahogany brown leather cover that Fei Long had seen once or twice as a child - the one he had been looking for since his father died.
“Fei Long?” Mikhail called, curious and out of breath as the other man suddenly pulled away from his embrace to pick up a book from the floor.
“My father’s journal,” Fei Long said as he picked up the small diary and began flipping through the pages, forgetting entirely about the other man’s presence in the room.
Seeing the expression on the Baishe leader’s face, Mikhail took a step back and gave him the space he needed. It wasn’t an easy task, restraining himself after a temptation that could have changed his whole world and the way he lived. But at that particular moment, with his hands clutching tight on the small diary, and those amethyst eyes filled with intense longing he’d never seen before in anyone, the great Liu Fei Long of Baishe was simply too beautiful to remove his eyes from.
Fei Long felt his hands trembled just reading briefly his father’s thoughts, even though they had been mostly about business. He never knew what his father was thinking, and he thought he had lost the opportunity to know. The discovery of the diary, and the chance to see his father’s neat and orderly handwriting again nearly brought him to tears.
Just then, something fell from the pages of the journal. It was a small photograph of him as child. Perhaps when he was six or seven years old. He picked it up and flipped it over. There was a note on the back of the faded picture, written by the same handwriting as in the diary.
Fei Long, my beautiful son.
It was the most inappropriate thing to do given the company he was with at the time, but the tears he had been trying to hold back just streamed down his cheeks at the sight of the written words and what they implied.
Mikhail who had been observing quietly up until then stepped closer to the Baishe leader and gently wiped away the tears with his both his hands. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, pressing his lips gently on the silky black hair just above the other man’s forehead.
I’ll protect you.
It may have been the alcohol, or perhaps it was simply the weakened state of his mind that created such an illusion. But he was soon enveloped by something soft and delicate that almost felt like feathers, and his vision was flooded by warm, golden light before his conscience slipped away.
***
"Fei sama," Tao’s voice sounded like it came from a distance. “Fei sama.”
Fei Long blinked open his eyes to see Tao standing over him with a worried expression. "Tao? What are you doing here?" he asked, confused. When he finally got himself up into the sitting position, he realized he was on the sofa in the library, covered with his own jacket that he had taken off earlier that night.
"Yoh brought me here to help take care of you. I was so worried." Tao explained in a mixture of complaint and concern. "Why are you sleeping here on the couch, Fei sama?"
“Why exactly?” Fei long thought as he adjusted himself and tried to remember what had happened. "I was just drinking. I must have dozed off in the middle of the night." Yes, that must be it. He could hardly remember anything and his headache wasn't exactly agreeing with his attempt at recollection either.
"You finished two bottles," Yoh commented without being asked as he picked up the empty bottles of wine. It was one of Yoh's bad habit - criticizing his actions in the form of an answer to a nonexistent question. It annoyed him at times, but he could never find an opening or the heart to correct this behavior.
"When did he leave?"
"About two in the morning." Yoh replied. In truth he was rather curious about what had happened last night. Fei Long had been known to bring home a partner on many occasions in the past, but all of them had been boys of no status, not in their world anyway. That night he was rather concerned to see that it was Mikhail Arbatov Fei Long had decided to play with - a man who had the power and the means to become a serious threat to the organization and one with a reputation for being unreliable and cunning to the core. But it wasn't his place to voice an opinion, and even if he did have something to say, once Fei Long has made up his mind, no force on earth or in heaven would have stopped him anyway. At least he didn't have to give this one small information, or rather, trinket, that would likely lead to the continuation of this dangerous relationship, not unless Fei long asked for it.
“Did he leave a note?”
Damn.
“Yoh?” Fei Long said interrogatingly, knowing another one of his bodyguard’s bad habit was about to spring up - the one where he simply ignores the question he didn’t want to answer. “Give it to me,” the Baishe leader demanded, holding out his hand to make sure he was understood, even though he knew too well he was definitely understood the first time.
“He didn’t leave a note, and I don’t really understand what it means,” Yoh answered with a quiet sigh while his expression still remain the same as the day they’d first met, the day he got out of jail, the day Fei Long gave him a raise, the day before, and, well, today. “But he said to give you this, and that you would understand.”
The object Yoh had placed on the palm of his hand immediately put a smile on Fei Long’s face. It was a small glass ball with a visible crack down the center in the color that resembled the Russian’s eyes.
“Son of a bitch,” Fei Long said, though his tone didn’t really agree with the words spoken.
“Fei sama?” Tao asked. “Is everything ok?”
Fei Long closed his hand around the ball and smiled.
“I think I’ve just met my angel.”
***
The following fanart is really for the hail_mik's contest, but since it's inspired by this fic ...
My words:
Rain
Obsession
David Bowie
Archangel
Whispering
Title: Remembering Angels
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None, well, unless you're allergic to children and Mik x Fei.
Characters: Fei Long, Mikhail, Tao, Yoh
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Yamane Ayano.
Note: My first attempt at writing a fanfic while on a stationary bike using my iphone (because I really really have no time but I must do this for the cause!), read at your own risk and I hope that you will not have wasted your calories reading.
One February night Fei Long sat by the bed he used to sleep in as a child. For some reasons, that day he felt like spending a night at his father’s old house. It was the place he grew up in - the house where hundreds of memories that mattered to him remained, intact and forever present in every piece of furniture and behind every closed door.
He looked around the room in silence as images from the past replayed themselves in his mind. That corner by his desk was where he used to sit crying for hours whenever Yan Tsui said something that upset him or when father gave him a look of disappointment after he’d failed at a task. On that sofa near the bed was where he used to sit for hours reading his books - a hobby Yan Tsui found dull and useless. But while there were many things he’d quit to please his brother and father back then, reading was one thing he’d refused to give up. It was his only escape from the real world - the only time when he gets to be himself without being judged or compared to anyone.
“Fei sama?” Tao who had been allowed to sleep on his master’s old bed that night called reluctantly as he noticed Fei Long had become quiet for a while.
“I’m sorry.” Fei Long adjusted himself and smiled at the boy. “I was just thinking about something. Anyway, it’s quite late. You should go to sleep.”
“Fei sama,” Tao said in almost a whisper. He didn’t want to disappoint his master or be a burden, but… “I’m scared.”
“Of what?” Fei Long asked, raising a brow in surprise. Tao was quite mature for his age and he rarely gets scared of anything.
Just then, the sound of thunder filled the room and Tao quickly covered himself with the blanket.
Seeing the reaction from the poor boy whose big brown eyes were barely visible as he peeked out from under the blanket he’d wrapped himself in tight like a wonton, Fei Long smiled and placed his hand on Tao’s head affectionately. He’d forgotten that it was raining outside and by then it seemed the storm was coming. On top of this Tao was not used to sleeping in this room. “You know, I used to be afraid of thunders too when I was a child.”
“Really?” Tao’s eyes opened wide in disbelief that his all mighty and fearless master was ever afraid of something. “What did you do?”
“Let me show you,” said the master as he slipped one hand under the mattress and moved from side to side in search of an object. When his fingers finally came into contact with something, a rare mischievous smile appeared on the Baishe leader’s face. “This is my secret,” Fei Long said as he pulled out an old book. By then its beautiful hard cover had turned slightly yellow despite its perfect condition otherwise. Even then, the bright blue color of the sky in contrast with the clean white cloud was still remarkably beautiful. But what really made Tao’s eyes widened in excitement was the golden-haired angels with fluffy white wings on top of the clouds.
“It used to be my most favorite book,” Fei Long explained, gliding his hand across the illustrations on the pages the way he used to when he was little. “Whenever I felt afraid, I’d flip through it and read all about the different kinds of angels. And then I’d feel safe, imagining that there’s an angel out there somewhere watching over me.”
The book of his treasure - one he felt the need to hide it under his bed for fear of it being destroyed by Yan should it ever be discovered. Just as much as he was obsessed with reading, Yan Tsui was obsessed with making him more ‘like a man’, whatever his interpretation of it was, and reading about angels was simply out of the question, among other things.
“Have you ever seen one, Fei sama?” Tao asked, blinking innocently as if he was certain the answer would be a positive one.
Fei Long paused for a few seconds as a memory he’d long forgotten suddenly came to mind.
“You know, I think I have.”
***
Twenty years earlier.
It wasn’t a common sight when young master Fei Long who always had impeccable manners would stomp down the hallway with his lower lip tucked in and tears pooling in his eyes. Father was having a big party that night and had given him a brand new cheongsam to wear for the occasion. It was a beautiful gold cheongsam with a big dragon stitching - one that Yan Tsui had to ruin by spilling black ink on it, resulting in him having to suddenly leave the party just as the guests arrived.
He didn’t want to cry, and father would not be pleased to see him acting so weak, but that day he could no longer hold back his anger or his tears. He was going to leave the party altogether and lock himself in his room forever, no matter how long that might be.
It must have been his overwhelming anger at the time that made him fail to notice another little person who was following him until his sleeve was caught and tugged a few times. “Leave me alone,” he said angrily as he turned around.
A boy who must be about his age even though he was somewhat shorter in height was standing behind him rubbing his eyes with one hand and holding tight the sleeve of his cheongsam with another, sobbing even worse than he did. He was wearing a black tuxedo and a bowtie, his hair was bright yellow and his eyes were the shade of blue that Fei Long had never seen before. Fei Long didn’t know who he was, but judging from his appearance, he must have come with one of his father’s guests.
“I can’t find my papa,” said the boy with a strange accent, still crying his eyes off.
Instinctively, Fei Long quickly wiped his own tears and stood up straight. He was, after all, the young master of the house and this boy looked like he needed help.
“Stop crying,” he said, trying to make is voice sound as firm as Yan Tsui’s. But what usually made him swallow his tears didn’t work on this boy, for he continued to cry even louder and clung to his sleeve even tighter. This must be, by Yan Tsui’s definition, a spoiled kid.
Fei Long sighed a heavy sigh and wondered why children could always find the courage to run away and then cry like babies when they get lost, and how he would never do such a thing. “Listen,” he said to the boy, now with his usual smooth and subtle tone. “My father always says that if you cry, the scariest spirit you can imagine will come and take you away,” he said in a whisper in an attempt to give the boy the impression that there might be someone or ‘something’ listening.
This time it worked brilliantly, for the boy immediately tucked in his lips and wiped his tears dry with his sleeve, his red chubby cheeks puffed up like two small balloons as he tried his best to stop crying. “You mean like the Goblin King?”
Fei Long closed his eyes and tried to contain his disappointment over how the boy’s image of the scariest spirit he could possibly imagine turned out to be David Bowie in Labyrinth. Then he wondered what the boy would think if he’d met Yan Tsui instead. “Something like that, yes,” he said. “And that if you smile, the angels will make everything all right,” that part he made up all by himself.
Somehow that, too, worked, for now the boy was standing in front of him smiling the biggest smile he could possibly produce, his big blue eyes lit up and sparkled like jewels and Fei Long had just noticed that those golden curls that wound wildly on the boy’s head looked just like one of the angels’ in his book - one of the archangels to be exact.
“Are you an angel?” asked the yellow-haired boy. He sure looked as pretty as one, especially in that gold outfit, even though stained with black ink.
Fei Long tried to hide his smile at those words. Especially when he was just thinking the exact same thought about the little boy just seconds ago. Strangely enough, after seeing that smile he seemed to have forgotten all about his stained cheongsam. “Come on, I’ll show you something.”
He took the other boy’s hand and led him into the library - a place he wasn’t usually allowed to enter without an accompanying adult. But that day he felt a little mischievous, and he thought the adults would be too occupied with the party to find out about it anyway.
Once they’d entered the room, while Fei Long busied himself searching for books to read, the boy with yellow curls caught a glimpse of something and began to climb up the desk for a better look. It was a jar full of glass balls in many colors that his father had placed on his desk for decoration - one he had always admired from afar because he wasn’t allowed to play with them.
“No, don’t touch it,” Fei Long warned. Father would be so mad if any of them were broken. But just as he’d finished the sentence, a blue glass ball fell off the table. To Fei Long’s horror, he quickly ran to pick it up only to find out that the ball had a small but clearly visible crack in the middle. This time he was the one who wanted to cry.
Seeing the worried expression on the other’s face, the boy with yellow hair placed a hand on Fei Long’s shoulder and gave him an innocent look of encouragement. “Don’t worry. If I take this one home with me no one will see that it’s broken. I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”
Fei Long looked up, surprised at the solution to the problem he couldn’t have come up with by himself. It didn’t sound quite right, but the boy wasn’t wrong either. No one would ever notice. “But what if…”
This time the boy took both his hands and held them tightly, looking at him with his big, round sparkling blue eyes as beautiful as the blue glass ball that broke and said confidently, “I promise I’ll protect you. I’ll be your angel.”
Even though the yellow haired boy was smaller than him and was the one crying like a baby just minutes ago, somehow those words felt reassuring. Fei Long then swallowed his tears, and, remembering his own words, smiled the biggest smile he knew how to.
In the end they’d promised each other to keep it a secret, and spent the rest of their time together reading books in the library. The boy did find his parents soon after and Fei Long didn’t realize until later that he’d neither introduced himself nor asked for the other boy’s name. Later when he’d tried to ask father about that boy, he was simply told that the boy was not to be his friend, and that he should never ask about him again.
Still, he thought that day had turned out to be one of the good days. At least having his cheongsam ruined didn’t turn out so bad. He was glad to have made a friend - a strange looking friend who looked so much like the angel in his book.
***
“So you’ve never seen him again since then?” Tao asked, disappointed.
“No,” Fei Long smiled and shook his head. Unfortunately, now that his father has passed away, he would never find out who that boy was, and even if he does, he was sure the boy with yellow hair wouldn’t remember him anyway.
“Fei sama, can we stay here until tomorrow night?” Tao begged. He was beginning to enjoy being in a new place just imagining what other stories his master would tell him about his childhood, and by then he’d forgotten all about the thunder.
“I’m afraid I have to go to an event in Macau tomorrow night. I’ll be back late. It’s better to stay at Baishe,” Fei Long explained as he tucked the boy in. “We can come here again some other time if you want. Good night, Tao.”
“Good night, Fei sama.”
***
The next night Fei Long attended the grand opening of a new casino hotel in Macau that he co-owned. Everyone who was anyone in the high profile circle was invited. As required by his position, Fei Long cruised through the cocktail party greeting the important guests with Yoh by his side giving him the information he needed when he needed it. It was one of the things Yoh excelled at - knowing everything there is to know about his friends and enemies and giving him such information with his unrealistically emotionless face. For example, “that woman next to him is his new mistress, not his wife,” or “that’s Mr. x, he once tried to rip you off,” and at times he would throw in some unexpected remarks such as, “the man wearing last year’s collection of Armani is Mr. Y,” and “Mrs. Q just had a cheap nose job.” He had to admit, having Yoh accompany him to these events made things much less boring, not knowing what kind of interesting information the man would manage to dig up to tell him about it.
That night was no different, but the crowd had turned out to be rather disappointingly boring, until Fei Long’s eyes caught a glimpse of an unknown guest that stood out like a sore thumb due to his modern Chinese-collared suit with neon green accent on the sleeves - one whose buttons had been left undone revealing the black shiny silk shirt with no tie, walking around in a black tie event no less. And judging from the fact that no one had tried to stop him from entering the scene, he had to be someone pretty big. But what really caught Fei Long’s attention was really the man’s bright yellow hair and vivid blue eyes.
“That’s Mikhail Arbatov, Vladimir’s first son. He’s just been sent to Macau to get the family a piece of the cake,” Yoh explained as he noticed Fei Long’s attention on the man.
“And that’s a new collection Shanghai Tang he’s wearing. It’s not suppose to be out until March,” Fei Long added before he marched forward in the direction of the new mafia figure on the scene without hesitation. The Arbatovs have always been on and off in business with Baishe during his father’s time, and those golden curls and baby blue eyes happened to remind him of something that made him far too curious to brush it aside.
“Liu Laoban,” the man who was previously engaged in a conversation with the Russian quickly turned around to greet him with a quick bow.
Fei Long nodded slightly before moving his gaze to the golden haired foreigner, gesturing for an introduction to commence.
“Mikhail Vladimirovich Arbatov, how do you do?” the Russian said with a smooth baritone voice as he held out his hand, to which Fei Long accepted and answered with a small but firm shake.
“Liu Fei Long of Baishe,” he introduced himself. There was a reason the man didn’t drop his patronymic, and such declaration of power should only be answered accordingly. “Welcome to China, Mr. Arbatov.”
The Russian paused for a few seconds and looked at him in almost a stare, obviously lost in his own thoughts. The man also seemed to forget entirely that he still hasn’t let go of the Baishe leader’s hand.
“Do you mind?” Fei Long asked as he gestured for his hand to be freed. All the while he couldn’t help but wondered if it was possible that the little boy who was quite a bit shorter than him could grow up to be so tall, not to mention fill up that nicely.
“Forgive my speechlessness,” Mikhail said with a smile he didn’t try to hide and promptly removed his hand. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful in my life.”
Somehow that comment didn’t sound cheeky, nor did it feel inappropriate. There was no sexual hint in the Russian’s expression, just pure and honest admiration coupled with a little bit of amazement. He’d never been given such a compliment in that way except from a small child. And while it felt rather flattering, Fei Long couldn’t help but feel disappointed that, from the reaction, this man might not be that boy from the past, or even if he was, he must have forgotten all about it entirely. “What a shame,” Fei Long responded with a restricted smile before he abruptly excused himself. Sure, he was still curious about the man but it was not an appropriate time or place to bring up the issue.
They didn’t exchange any words after that, but every once in a while their eyes would meet from different corners of the room. Fei Long didn’t know if it was because he kept looking at the man repeatedly or if it was the other way around. But at one point when he realized that the Russian was no longer in the banquet hall, he found himself wandering out into the adjacent outdoor garden with utter boredom. Unexpectedly, Arbatov was there, too. He was sitting on the bench with a flute full of champagne, looking up at the full moon whose glowing yellow was almost the same shade as his hair.
“Bored, are we?” Fei Long commented as he stepped into view and stood near the bench with his arms crossed neatly behind his back.
Mikhail turned around to see the man who intruded his solitude, smiled briefly and turned back to the haunting scenery he was watching. “Who wants to be inside on a night like this?”
“True,” Fei Long replied and made a gesture at the empty spot on the bench. “May I?”
“Sure, it’s not my hotel,” the Russian shrugged and moved himself to make space. “Yet,” he added with quick wink of his eye before he returned to sipping the fine champagne.
“We shall see,” Fei Long laughed quietly at the implication as he seated himself next to the Russian, keeping a considerable distance. “I heard you’ve moved here somewhat permanently. How much are you hoping to own?”
Faced with an unexpected question, Mikhail turned to look the other man’s in the eyes as if to make sure he’d heard correctly. It seemed the triad leader was rather different from the other Chinese he’d met. Regardless of his seemingly impeccable manners and unearthly elegance, the man was brutally direct and right to the point. Liu Fei Long of Baishe was certainly not a man to be taken lightly. “Moving right in for the kill, I’m impressed.”
“Wasting time is expensive, not to mention risky,” Fei Long replied. “How much?”
“Unfortunately, I’m not the kind of man who limit myself with goals.”
“The sky it is then?” Fei Long said with a smirk. He was, after all, Russian. Less is certainly not more.
Mikhail grinned without turning around. “Even that could become boring.”
Fei Long parted his lips a little and let out a sound of approval. “An ambitious man with a sense of adventure.”
The Russian laughed. “Ambitious, I’m not sure. But you will find that my sense of adventure is rather huge and at times uncontrollable, once you get to know me.”
“Well, I’m interested,” Fei Long said, narrowing his eyes as a certain plan came to mind. “Come to my place, we’ll talk.”
The champagne flute in Mikhail’s hand paused in midair just before it reached his lips. His glowing blue eyes stared into the other man’s for a brief moment before he began to laugh amusingly - a laugh that didn’t seem disrespectful but rather adorable. “Is it my imagination, or are you hitting on me?”
“Is that a problem?” Fei Long gave him a devilish smile as he peeked through the long lashes of his half-closed eyes. He wasn’t exactly hitting on the man, but at times a little flirting here and there pays off to get people where he want them to be.
“I’m straight.”
The Baishe leader just shrugged. “I can fix that.”
Hearing the answer, Mikhail laughed a very open and honest laugh. He knew there was something different about Liu Fei Long of Baishe, but that vivid personality was still a pleasant surprise. The fact that he was straight wasn’t a lie. But the conversation he was having with this too-beautiful-to-be-true triad leader who stood at the top of Hong Kong’s underworld was beginning to make him rethink his sexual orientation. “I swear if I ever turn gay in this lifetime, it would be for you,” he said jokingly, even though it wasn’t exactly impossible.
“Well?” Fei Long asked, keeping a serious and demanding expression.
“You really are dead set on taking me home tonight, aren’t you?”
“You should know, for future references, that when I extend a personal invitation, you either come nicely or I will kidnap you by whatever force necessary, although, I am counting on your huge sense of adventure to do the job.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Kidnapping and murder often came up as the top two things on his to do list and rejection is a word that a man in his position must avoid at all costs for the sake of reputation.
The statement placed a rather cunning grin on the Russian’s face. His sense of adventure was indeed being successfully tickled. “Well, if you put it that way,” Mikhail said as he rose from the bench. “Shall we?”
***
It was almost 11pm when they’d arrived at Liu senior’s old house. While Fei Long constantly tried to observe the other man’s reaction to see whether he would or should remember the place, Mikhail Arbatov walked around the house without a single change in expression. By the time they’d reached the library, Fei Long had partly given up on his quest, and decided to just drink the night away with the new companion. Luckily Mikhail Arbatov was rather entertaining, otherwise the evening would have felt like a waste.
“I used to love sneaking in here as a child to read these books, and my father would get so mad when he found me here without permission,” Fei Long said as he glided his hand along the collection of old books, some of which he still hadn’t had time to read. He didn’t know why he was talking about these things with a perfect stranger, especially one who was far too dangerous for him to be sharing personal information with. But that night he’d decided to blame it on the wine and didn’t try too hard to stop himself.
“It didn’t stop you, did it?” Mikhail’s voice sounded from behind, his uneven breaths brushed gently on the back of Fei Long’s ears.
“No,” Fei Long replied, keeping himself still on purpose as he felt his hair being touched and caressed.
“You like to play with fire,” the Russian said, now in a whisper right next to his ear.
Fei Long swallowed and closed his eyes. Mikhail’s breath was warm, unsteady, and it made his heart race in excitement. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. Not with this man, not even just for fun. But it was also for this reason that it was so hard to resist, and the fact that the man was so bloody handsome didn’t help either.
“I do,” Fei Long said as he turned around to face the other man who was now standing close enough that their noses nearly touched. “How is your sense of adventure now?” he asked, brushing his lips against Mikhail’s as his mind began to play around with the idea of taking this a little further than what he considered a ‘safe’ foreplay.
“I’m all in,” Mikhail’s words slipped in between Fei Long’s inviting lips as they kissed, reluctantly at first, then passionately soon after.
It must be Mikhail’s first time kissing a man, judging from the lack of confidence at first that soon disappeared and promptly replaced by the skills Fei Long had never tasted once the man kicked into gear. The Russian’s kisses were deep, demanding, desperate, and Fei Long soon found himself pinned against the bookshelf with the power he wasn’t prepared take on. A part of him wanted to stop, the other was feeding greedily on the desire he never knew existed. As he was struggling to make a decision, the collision of their bodies against the shelf caused a few books to fall onto the floor. Among them was a small journal with mahogany brown leather cover that Fei Long had seen once or twice as a child - the one he had been looking for since his father died.
“Fei Long?” Mikhail called, curious and out of breath as the other man suddenly pulled away from his embrace to pick up a book from the floor.
“My father’s journal,” Fei Long said as he picked up the small diary and began flipping through the pages, forgetting entirely about the other man’s presence in the room.
Seeing the expression on the Baishe leader’s face, Mikhail took a step back and gave him the space he needed. It wasn’t an easy task, restraining himself after a temptation that could have changed his whole world and the way he lived. But at that particular moment, with his hands clutching tight on the small diary, and those amethyst eyes filled with intense longing he’d never seen before in anyone, the great Liu Fei Long of Baishe was simply too beautiful to remove his eyes from.
Fei Long felt his hands trembled just reading briefly his father’s thoughts, even though they had been mostly about business. He never knew what his father was thinking, and he thought he had lost the opportunity to know. The discovery of the diary, and the chance to see his father’s neat and orderly handwriting again nearly brought him to tears.
Just then, something fell from the pages of the journal. It was a small photograph of him as child. Perhaps when he was six or seven years old. He picked it up and flipped it over. There was a note on the back of the faded picture, written by the same handwriting as in the diary.
Fei Long, my beautiful son.
It was the most inappropriate thing to do given the company he was with at the time, but the tears he had been trying to hold back just streamed down his cheeks at the sight of the written words and what they implied.
Mikhail who had been observing quietly up until then stepped closer to the Baishe leader and gently wiped away the tears with his both his hands. “Don’t cry,” he whispered, pressing his lips gently on the silky black hair just above the other man’s forehead.
I’ll protect you.
It may have been the alcohol, or perhaps it was simply the weakened state of his mind that created such an illusion. But he was soon enveloped by something soft and delicate that almost felt like feathers, and his vision was flooded by warm, golden light before his conscience slipped away.
***
"Fei sama," Tao’s voice sounded like it came from a distance. “Fei sama.”
Fei Long blinked open his eyes to see Tao standing over him with a worried expression. "Tao? What are you doing here?" he asked, confused. When he finally got himself up into the sitting position, he realized he was on the sofa in the library, covered with his own jacket that he had taken off earlier that night.
"Yoh brought me here to help take care of you. I was so worried." Tao explained in a mixture of complaint and concern. "Why are you sleeping here on the couch, Fei sama?"
“Why exactly?” Fei long thought as he adjusted himself and tried to remember what had happened. "I was just drinking. I must have dozed off in the middle of the night." Yes, that must be it. He could hardly remember anything and his headache wasn't exactly agreeing with his attempt at recollection either.
"You finished two bottles," Yoh commented without being asked as he picked up the empty bottles of wine. It was one of Yoh's bad habit - criticizing his actions in the form of an answer to a nonexistent question. It annoyed him at times, but he could never find an opening or the heart to correct this behavior.
"When did he leave?"
"About two in the morning." Yoh replied. In truth he was rather curious about what had happened last night. Fei Long had been known to bring home a partner on many occasions in the past, but all of them had been boys of no status, not in their world anyway. That night he was rather concerned to see that it was Mikhail Arbatov Fei Long had decided to play with - a man who had the power and the means to become a serious threat to the organization and one with a reputation for being unreliable and cunning to the core. But it wasn't his place to voice an opinion, and even if he did have something to say, once Fei Long has made up his mind, no force on earth or in heaven would have stopped him anyway. At least he didn't have to give this one small information, or rather, trinket, that would likely lead to the continuation of this dangerous relationship, not unless Fei long asked for it.
“Did he leave a note?”
Damn.
“Yoh?” Fei Long said interrogatingly, knowing another one of his bodyguard’s bad habit was about to spring up - the one where he simply ignores the question he didn’t want to answer. “Give it to me,” the Baishe leader demanded, holding out his hand to make sure he was understood, even though he knew too well he was definitely understood the first time.
“He didn’t leave a note, and I don’t really understand what it means,” Yoh answered with a quiet sigh while his expression still remain the same as the day they’d first met, the day he got out of jail, the day Fei Long gave him a raise, the day before, and, well, today. “But he said to give you this, and that you would understand.”
The object Yoh had placed on the palm of his hand immediately put a smile on Fei Long’s face. It was a small glass ball with a visible crack down the center in the color that resembled the Russian’s eyes.
“Son of a bitch,” Fei Long said, though his tone didn’t really agree with the words spoken.
“Fei sama?” Tao asked. “Is everything ok?”
Fei Long closed his hand around the ball and smiled.
“I think I’ve just met my angel.”
***
The following fanart is really for the hail_mik's contest, but since it's inspired by this fic ...