FicWad

-Twelve-
Rayearth is copyright of Clamp and whomever else.

Lost in time, lost in sight, lost in mind.

I cannot think, I cannot see, I cannot breathe.

Is this what it is always going to be? When I've finished, holding him in my arms, knowing he is in my heart? It shouldn't be this way. She goes night and day without knowing love, love in this way. But I suppose that is her choice. And to choose in this world, being the Pillar - that choice is final.

The carnal pleasures of the flesh, the whisper of silk on a bare thigh, lips brushing a blue veined neck, palm pressed on a beating heart. Is this all it is meant to be? Can I tell him what he means to me?

Can he handle it, loving her as a mistress, and devoting his very life to her? He would go to the death for her. But he should never have to do that. I should shelter him, so that he knows that my love is his in the end. The words cannot form on my lips, so they must form in my actions.

I hope he realizes it. Every time I stroke that cock, playfully bite a nipple, thrust myself deep into his core - it is how I tell him I love him. That soft, smooth flesh that is pliant under me, yielding to my demands, I hope it is out of love and not duty.

I want him to stay with me. I want him to stay with me out of love, not out of obligation. I want to see this through to the end with him.

But will there be an end? Each night I spend with him, his nails clawing my back, my tongue deftly probing his mouth, his legs over my shoulders, I cannot help but think why I am still here doing this thing.

Why is it her, and not him? If she cannot leave her duty for love, as the ability to admit and nurture love is the ultimate duty, then why can I not turn away from her? Why can't I just lay back in this bed, his limbs tangled about mine, sweet red wine pouring and loving words being murmured?

I have so many questions. So, so many. None of them I can answer. All I can do is kiss his brow, and hope this is neverending. For if it is not, I am afraid of what I will lose...

But the time for my mental meanderings is over, as the door knocks soundly and here he is again. I realize I will need to bathe again after, as I am adorned in a simple towel. Starched white shirt and trousers with an ashen cloak cover his thin frame. The clock strikes twelve. Each bang of the bell resonates in my inner chamber. One, two, three, he slowly gets down on his knees. Four, five, six, his touch is like a fix. Seven, eight, nine, claiming him as mine. Ten, eleven, twelve, our bodies come and meld...

He looks at me, golden eyes betraying naught but his need. He trembles under the weight of his own desire. Every night I'm with him I teach him something new. I reach out my hand to stroke his lips. His pout is adorable, in an odd sort of way. His tongue darts out to touch my fingertips.

"What do you want, my golden-eyed seijyu?"

"...I want...you. You inside me, Zagato-sama, you taking me, for I offer myself to you." He looks so innocent.

"My name is Zagato. You'd do best to remember that, little love." I brush his chest with the fingertips of my right hand, sweeping his back with the other. His mouth opens in shock to find himself pinned under me on the bed with its crimson silk sheets, black velvet pillows under his body. The sheer mesh of the canopy netting encloses any escape to the outside he might consider, but I do not think he'll be wanting to leave.

His hips clamp around mine, and I remove his cloak and unbutton his jacket. Bare skin to skin, as I want it. His pride is stirring against my hip, and I answer his call in return.

I find it amusing how his gasps come and how agitated he is at the tight fabric constricting him. Perhaps mercy is in order. My hand flutters down to his groin, and the rise there. Just a feather light touch it is, but his head tilts back and he grinds against me.

I sigh, removing my towel and slipping off his pants. Both our members touch, and I repress a shiver of desire. He whispers, no, begs, in my ear for things. Things that innocent little seijyu should not ask for. But I abide for my young love.

His gasps, on the verge of an insane pleasure, are all I hear as I thrust into him again and again. He is so tight and hot, and my world revolves around that orifice that takes me in so willingly.

His fingers are bunched in the bed sheets, his head thrown back. It is such a lovely sight, his grey forelocks framing his face and his hips thrusting into the air, an imaginary sheath.

I know I'm coming, as is he. I want this to be perfect. The seconds count down in my mind. Twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one...

My lips lock on his, as his seed spills onto my hand and mine into his very body and soul.

But I pull back suddenly. I see tears, feel tears. His wide eyes are looking up at me, crystal droplets on his cheeks, searing into my soul. But there are so many. How can he cry so much?

Then my hand slowly moves up to my face. I taste salt in my mouth. My hand comes back damp, and I realize the tears are not only his, but mine. Twelve tears between us.

I glance down at him, and I know now that it doesn't need to be said. It hasn't needed to be said for a long time. We both know it, my seijyu and I.

Twelve is such a small number. He and I, we will share not only 12 days, weeks, months and years. We will share eternity.

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Hmmmmm. Just weird little odd thing. Yay for Rayearth yaoi-ness.

-kuja no miko