Perspective

Title: Perspective
Rating: Really strong R, I'd say.
Series: X/1999
Pairing: Fuuma/Kamui
Disclaimer: I don't own Fuuma, who has most likely found a way to own Kamui, and is in turn owned by CLAMP and other awesome people.
Notes: There is a POV-switch near the beginning - it opens with Fuuma and ends with Kamui.

Perspective

A whirlwind of confusion.

A blizzard of lies.

Hatred and love, pain and pleasure, hot and cold. Opposites clash, then part. Like life and death, these meetings are a cycle that cannot be broken.

"Whyou you ask, though your eyes are closed and you toss and turn ie cle clutches of sleep, a power not my own.

I must admit, I'm a little jealous. That's to be expected, though. I'd hate to see you suffer at another's hand, especially such a fickle mistress as a dream. I reach out a hand and place it on your shoulder, bring my mouth up to your ear. My tongue slides in and you shiver.

I whisper, answering the question you don't even know you've asked, "Because you have wished it to be so."

And with these words, you wake. Eyes open, then close once more, as they take in my form and you realize just who is in the room with you.

How did I get here? Why have I come? I'm sure you're wondering all of these things.

But I won't answer you, because some things are best left to the imagination. The things a child can dream up when he hears from an older sibling that there's a monster hiding under his bed, in the closet. Nightmares that nobody could hope to induce, and all from that child's own mind.

You know what you want more than I ever could. You're lucky I can tell exactly what you're thinking. Each suspicion, hope and fear are mine to do with as I wish. Sometimes, you have to be greedy and tend to your own wishes. Though I must say, it's quite convenient when two people want the same thing, more or less.

I wait patiently, retreating to a corner of the room to give you a false sense of security. Believe me, it's the only sense of security you will have in the coming night. Sure enough, your eyes open in moments, and you sit up to get a better view of the area.

It is now that I make my move, advancing towards you. From the look on your face--and how beautifully pale that face is--I assume that I'm grinning. A predator's gaze often scares that of his prey.

Your struggles are futile, and we both know it. Yet I can still feel you twist and turn, trying to throw off my weight. Your wrists are so slender that it takes but one of my hands to pin them above your head so that they rest comfortably on your pillow. Enjoy it, there won't be much comfort tonight.

You don't cry, you don't close those eyes again, you just stare back at me. Neither of us blinks, and I wonder how long such a staring contest can go on. You have willpower, Kamui, I will give you that. But I will take it away soon enough. How long will it take for you to break, to shatter at my command?

Let's find out.


Both of us glare, statues bathed in the glow of moonlight that streams in from the single window. That answers the question of how I got here, you'll notice later. But right now, the staring continues.

I pull away first, release you, and look away. I know you're wondering what's wrong. You're questioning. Wondering if this is still a dream.

"I'm sorry, Kamui," I whisper.

You shiver. The room seems cold, doesn't it? Don't worry, nothing is wrong. Just the wind. See? The window's open. It's a nice breeze, that's all. Everything is fine.

"Fuuma?" you question, still not believing.


Smart, aren't you? You blink a few times, realizing you've become lost in my eyes. I did release your hands, but it was only to pull that troublesome shirt and troublesome pants off your body. Fully naked now, lying on the covers with that look on your face--the one that makes it seem like you hate me and all of this--I can't help but laugh a little. Like I said, I'm here to see how long it takes to break you and make you mine. I don't think it will be very long at all.

I grab your wrists again and we're back where we started, minus the silly little detail of clothing.


---{Kamui POV}


Stay away from me. I want to yell at you, curse and spit, struggle until my arms break from the strain. But that will only excite you and bring everything about more swiftly.

I rather like it when you go slow at first. Th...the way you're doing it now, it's perfect. Fingers that move light as feathers, teasing here and torturing there. Torturing, there's the key word. I can't stand it, but it feels so good the whole time that I can't help keeping the moaning inside.

You look at me like a cat watches his prey. A hint of a question flickers within. You didn't really know that I like it, did you? Just thought you could do whatever you wanted and my reactions were because I was shocked, or confused, or because I was attracted to you and not what you were doing.

I try to keep a smirk of my own off my face and force myself to play my part. You like me innocent, don't you, Fuuma? Like the way I look terrified by your powerful gaze, trembling under your grasp? Well...I don't suppose it would hurt much to do that for a little while. Not that I'd mind if it did.

"Kamui," you breathe in my ear.

I shudder, involuntarily this time. Hot breath on ski skin--opposites seem to follow us everywhere. Your hand strokes my neck and I close my eyes almost lazily. Softer than I thought they would be... I gasp when your grip tightens around my throat, followed by the familiar rush of blood, the light dizziness.

"Fuuma," I choke on the word, let you think that you're winning.

You can't win because I know everything you're going to do, and more. We two are the same, different in every way we can be.

"Just relax," you intone in a voice thick with something unsuccessfullskinsking itself as innocence.

Your lips travel down my neck, your tongue leaves trails of wetness. And your hand...The one that's not above my head right now, with its strong grip--I struggle against it to make sure that you haven't loosened it too much--is also making its way lower. Dancing across my chest, touching in all of the right places, until you reach my waist. I make the appropriate gasping noises whenever you stop, not quite arching into your touch just yet. Can't fight all of the time, but giving in too early ruins the game.

"Can I let go of you now?" you ask me. Do I hear a hint of mockery in that voice?

"...Maybe," I respond with all of the attitude you probably thought you were repressing.

"Oh? Is that so, Kamui?" you tease, making your voice deeper than before, which sends a shiver up and down my spine.

I let out a hiss of approval. That was nice. I'll have to figure out a way to make you do that again.

"Like that?" you repeat, and I just nod. No sense in hiding that much.

I come alive beneath your fingers. The small noises of earlier are nothing compared to what's going to come out of my mouth. Once you force me, of course. I think I'll wait a while, see how silent I can be. Perhaps with that scowl on my face again, you'll have to do something about it. And soon, too. I don't know how long I can hold out.

Sure enough, Fuuma, I can read you as easily as you think you can read me. I'm a little relieved.

"So quiet," you mumble, and I have to strain to hear the words. "How can I change this...?"

Fingers stroking flesh become a little faster, and you stare into my eyes.

"F-Fuuma..." I gasp out, unable to control myself for a brief moment.

I can't let you win yet. Can't...

"So you can make some noise," you remark, releasing my wrists so that your hand can snake down the side of my face and brush against my lips.

"Y-yes," I agree, nodding fervently.

Perhaps it is time to give in.

"What kind of noise?" you question me in a hard-edged voice.

"This...kind..." I manage to squeak out before succumbing completely.

Shameless moans, gasps, whatever you instruct. And finally, the last command--a firm "Now," whose meaning is understood completely--sends me over the edge.

When my breathing subsides, youfle fle my hair a little and look at me the way one would a child who has proudly announced that he has learned that the sky is blue.

"Well, Kamui, that was a good show you put on," you compliment.

"What?" I'm not quite sure I understand.

"I was good, too, wasn't I? Acting out what the little script in your thoughts told me? I thought yould kld know by now, I know everything that goes on in that head of yours."

Damnit. You knew the whole time? Well...

I suppose I could get used to this sort of thing.