Dawn of Light
Regret and desire
Warnings: Yaoi, sex in a cemetery. Death all around, but no guro. Weird writing style. Characters are over 18, no minor. No necro, all characters are alive when sex happens. Or close enough.
Notes: Passages in italics are not happening at the same time/place as the rest of the story.
The scenery is blurry.
“Do you regret?”
It feels like forever, unwillingly playing this game of questions.
One question.
“Tell me, do you regret?” He smiles sweetly, as if oblivious to the hurt these few words cause.
“I know you do. I know you." The smile widens.
“You shouldn’t have any, you know. Regrets.”
And the smile gets wider, impossibly wide, like a red scythe, and then everything blurs into nothingness.
There is a wall, tall and sturdy, protecting a precious building from the eyes of the sated public. A pair of young men is gliding like immaterial shadows against the vastness of the brick wall, the odd passerby not sparing them a second glance.
“Wufei, tell me, do you believe in justice?” Quatre is walking next to him, his longs legs matching his every step.
A sideway glance under long lashes.
“Is this question necessary? Honestly.” The words are harsh, and there is silence for a while, interrupted by the occasional vehicle speeding in the distance. “Quatre, I am the same, every part of me.” The words are harsh. “You know me.” But a smile of confidence belies the usual harshness of his voice – and this change, he won’t deny.
The blonde, as if these words were his cue, takes hold of Wufei’s upper arm – his fingers squeezing the wiry muscles are like steel - pushing him without warning against the wall. Their eyes meet, and the long haired youth won’t move.
“Tonight is justice, in its purest, most primal form” a whisper, yet the intensity of Quatre’s words makes his stomach tighten “And it has to be you, Wufei.” He speaks his name as a promise and as a challenge. “Because you are the only person in the world I would want by my side, tonight.” Quatre’s fingers are now squeezing Wufei even more tightly, his chest heaving as he feels their targets’ presence within his grasp. His free hand stops an inch away from Wufei’s face, as if undecided whether it means to fondle or strike.
He looks perplexed for a moment, and then lowers his hand and grins.
“Just for tonight, though.” Quatre adds as an afterthought, relaxing slightly.
Wufei’s body softens against the wall, leaning into the young pilot’s grip. He looks centered, as if didn’t just bear witness to the toxic ire of his companion. “You know the way in.” It is not a question.
“The way… It is screaming in my head ever since we arrived, their presence is alive, it pulses and draws me in…” the boy’s words flooded with desire. Wufei believes Quatre’s words, in the same way he learned to never doubt Zero’s relentless truth.
Quatre leans into him and they meet; for a split second there is no distance, not a single molecule of air in between them. “I will see you inside. Tonight, we feast…” The next second he is gone, he is nothing but a shadow slithering up the face of the wall.
Wufei is now alone in the near darkness. He rubs his arm absent-mindedly, acknowledging the lingering discomfort. His eyes are sad, or maybe he is deep in thought, then a car passes him by, and he is no longer there.