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Fractions: Fuan
One Shot


Fuan runs a silver plated brush through long, layered locks of ebony colored hair. Each dark strand glistens in the morning sun as delicate slender fingers follow, sweeping down in every new stroke's wake. Absently he stares at his reflection through the richly carved gilded mirror set before him, the pitch of his seeing eye taking in a face so different from his own. Those foreign features that used to surprise him so, slow to become familiar with each day that passes him by.

How much longer does he have with this new face?

How much longer will he have with this new body as it rots all around him?

Slowly and day by day he withers, he can feel it aging around him and every new breath brings him closer to the inevitable. Every new breath brings him closer to a finality he'd managed to escape only once. Time has become his enemy, his bittersweet rival.

Sliding the silver plated brush away from his hair, he sets it down and lowers his head. Fuan turns to press his cheek against the cold surface of the ornate vanity table before him, allowing a silent sigh to escape full lips before he closes his eyes.

The soft sound of his own heartbeat reaches his ears, a slow steady rhythm beating like a drum. He takes a deep breath in as he remains in silence; the smell of polished wood filling his nose while he simply listens to a sound he'd been deprived of for so long.

Time… he's locked to it now, forced into its unyielding flow. It's not a kind master… time. It reminds him daily of his now limited existence and the end he will eventually reach…

[What have you done to me?!]

His voice is strange in his head, the tone completely off as it echoes hauntingly throughout the blinding white light filled room, not as a true sound that has come from his lips. Everything hurts, every part in his body feels like it's burning. He lashes out, the sudden movement jostling him free of the surface he's on and he spills onto the floor below, the contact of cold sterile tile sending fire raging throughout every nerve. He opens his mouth to cry out again only to find that he can't.

Shaking hands travel up to his throat and he tries desperately to make his voice work, but nothing comes out. He can't get his voice to come out!

Glass tipped fingers reached down to pull him gently from the floor and he flails out blindly for the contact, the vision in one eye blurred to the point of obscurity and the other nonexistent, refusing to reflect anything but blackness.

[Do not touch me!]

Tears streams down his face as he struggles to remove himself from a grip he'd all but forgotten, each touch of cold salty liquid burning him like acid. Despite his best efforts, Jenova refuses to relinquish his hold and it doesn't take long for his legs to give way, causing him to crumple in the Demon's strong arms. No matter how hard he tries, the crimson eyed man continues to simply hold him, refusing to let go. His calm silence serves only to strike him in the heart, a deep wound worse than any blow he can give.

He labors for breath, his lungs refusing to take in more than short shallow gulps of air. It hurts. It's excruciating. He wants to break free simply to escape the pain, but he lacks the strength to do little more than shake pitifully while he cries silently in the arms of one he thought to have abandoned him so very long ago…

Blackness.
Void.
Silence.
Unending.

It's maddening to be so alone.

He had once spent what felt like an eternity crying out, pleading for anyone and anything, something besides the unending blackness that envelopes him to help. His voice has become hoarse and his throat has dried from the effort.

He found so very quickly how much he yearns for noise, for feeling, even the pain he'd once prayed so desperately to have end.

He'd take the pain over this silence any day.

Any day.

And it had been so very painful. They'd made sure of it.
Enforcers always made sure it hurt. How else are you supposed to learn your lesson without the sharp reminder of excruciating pain?

Fuan closes his eyes. His sobs echoing throughout the blackness he floats in, his voice his only companion now.

Is this Hell, he wonders? Is this how his existence will be for the rest of all time? How long is he to suffer? Was his crime truly that great?

Was loving another truly so wrong?

His wrists are bound, the restraint of clawed fingers tight enough to keep him secure yet gentle enough to cause no real harm. Fuan breathes heavily, his desire welling up within him, threatening to spill out like a geyser.

His head is wrenched up. He moans in response as a pale hand grips beneath his chin, long graceful fingers sliding up to entwine in silken ebony locks. His body rocks against the Demon's as he's pulled in for a deep kiss, his tongue dancing over razor sharp fangs as he remains locked against his lover's.

Jenova suddenly tears his head away, the motion causing him to wince as his contact is abruptly denied. Panting, Fuan tries to reclaim the other man's lips, unable to contain the whimper of frustration that leaves him as he's held mere centimeters away, the Demon's familiar teasing almost a mockery as he's kept at bay. The former Angel almost can't bear it, his body responds all too well to his lover's, yielding in the most welcome ways by the smallest of touches he's granted.

He desires Jenova like he desires no other. It's a raw, unbridled passion he feels. He longs for the sensations given by those hands, he'd sell his soul for it.

He has sold his soul for it.

Jenova grins and Fuan knows that he's amused by this need, by his lack of control. He longs for the days when the Demon could touch him more freely, when he didn't need to be as careful as he is now, those days back when he had a body worthy of his Beloved's own.

Now he simply savors these rare encounters, reminded through every fiber of his being just how sweet his lover's touch is.

A touch given by the most expert of hands.

[Why? Why did you leave me? How could you have left me?!]

His words stop short, his tear stained face twisted into a mask of pain and shock as he stares up into the Demon's calm red gaze. What he sees threatens to steal what little breath he can muster away. The face reflected back at him is that of a complete stranger, that face… is not his own. Fuan tries to pull away and is once again held in place by the strength of the white haired man.

[What… what have you …?] His whispered words are barely audible, the disbelief in his shaky tone more than clear [what have you done ...?]

The wind blows lightly over the pair, a small breeze catching Fuan's hair as he steps along side his second Beloved. He smiles at his lover, the graceful features of his beautiful Reader of Fates returning the sentiment easily, those delicate lips curving into a perfect arc.

Fuan can stare at him for hours on end. His very presence is calming, his visits not nearly long enough. Their walks in the courtyard is time to be cherished and treasured, and he does… both treasure and cherish them deeply. The raven haired beauty's steps come to a halt and he turns, moving in close to rest his head against the other man's brow.

"Tian Shi…" The whispered words slip from full lips and send small chills dancing across the surface of his skin.

Fuan allows his eyes to slide closed as slender arms are wrapped around his waist, his Beloved's gentle embrace comforting him like no other. He feels at peace in this man's arms and he never wants that peace to end…

If only this very moment could be captured in stillness forever for them.

If only time would stop.

He throws his head back and screams a long guttural cry, only to be rewarded with the silence.

The blackness is consuming. The quiet is frightening, maddening even.

Please… God, Jenova, brother, anyone. Please make this stop. It is so cold. Please say something to me, say anything.

Anything at all.

I am begging you.

Please

Glass like claws slide gently over fragile alabaster flesh, trickling over narrow shoulders and down to wrap around his silk covered chest. Long snow tinted strands brush against his cheek, sending a small chill traveling across the surface his skin. He takes a deep breath in as he feels cool pale lips kiss at his neck, a soft shiver given to the touch and pulling his single sided gaze back open to find the Demon's beautiful strong features reflected in the mirror at his front.

Jenova's lips travel over the contours of his neck, his warm breath playing just above his skin and pulling a small shudder from within. Reaching his ear, the taller man's mouth circles lightly in play and part full lips in response, the smallest of silent gasps given that he cannot contain.

"What could we be doing today… all alone in this room of yours, I wonder…?" the whisper in his ear sends a small streak of fire racing along the length of his spine, the reaction pulling a smile to the white haired Demon's mouth.

Fuan stares at the one reflected within the mirror before he slowly sits up, leaning back into Jenova's embrace and allowing his head to fall against the Demon's built chest. Taking a brief moment to drink in the perfect features of his first Love as the sun shines in from the spanning floor to ceiling windows, the former Angel smiles up at the man above him.

[I am just… wasting a little time.]

Fractions : Fuan
End


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