Save a Prayer 2/? - Yami no Matsuei

Disclaimer: I don't own Yami no Matsuei and I make no money from this or any other story I write.
Pairings: Muraki x Tsuzuki
Category: General
Rating: R
Warnings: Yaoi, lemon, language
Title: Save a Prayer
Author: yellowhorde
Note: This story takes place after the Kyoto Arc.


PART TWO


Even though the hour was late, the street and sidewalk just outside of one the city's most popular - and notorious - dance clubs was full of life, noise, and a frantic sort of drunken hilarity. The fumes of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and perfume mingled to form a dizzying cloud of stench that seemed to drown the whole world. Dozens of people milled about, dressed in their partying best. The air was alive with a mixture of sexual tension and youthful exuberance.

Someone knocked roughly into Tsuzuki and a startled cry escaped his lips. He whirled around and a pair of red crack-glazed eyes glared belligerently back at him. The eyes' owner was a gangly teenager with long greasy hair whose obvious fashion taste leaned towards a curious cross between gothic and the more traditional biker punk. There were so many metallic rings and studs poking out from his face and clothes that Tsuzuki doubted he could walk through a metal detector without setting it off. Everything about this young man screamed 'Bad Ass'.

"Oh, I'm so sorry about th-"

"Get the fuck out of my way, man!" Leather Head yelled and after giving Tsuzuki a contemptuous once-over, made his way deeper into the crowd, which parted before him like the Red Sea had for Moses. Tsuzuki didn't blame them.

He scanned the crowd with disbelief. None of the people in this swarming mass of humanity looked any older than he had been when he had died seventy- two years ago. In fact, as he watched a pair of drunken girls weaving their giggling way down the sidewalk with what he dearly hoped were their fathers in tow, very few of them looked much older than his partner, Hisoka.

Nervously, he glanced down at the watch on his right wrist. It was just after eleven.

’Damn it,’ Tsuzuki mentally fumed, ‘he’s late!’

If anyone had asked Tsuzuki why he had agreed to meet Muraki out here in the first place, he would've been hard pressed for a proper answer. Could it be because he had felt sorry for the cold-blooded killer that had stalked his dreams relentlessly since the day they had first met in the cool, silent depths of that Church in Nagasaki? No, certainly not, because he didn't feel sorry for Muraki. It wasn't pity that had brought him to this noisy rendezvous. Some deep, inner compulsion had driven him into accepting the Doctor's invitation, one that he didn't fully understand. In all truthfulness, he was too afraid to question his own motivations, too afraid of what he would find buried so deeply within the dark, unknown confines of his heart.

At that moment, he was distracted from his wandering thoughts by a short, sharp blast of a car's horn. He looked up and his breath caught in his throat. Smooth and gleaming beneath the gaudy neon lights of the city, the car that had glided up to the curb was a perfect balance of power and grace. Its elegant lines flowed like liquid mercury. All eyes in the crowd were drawn towards it as if sensing that here was the chariot of a god. Lights flickering from the nightclub's marquee splashed over the windshield and windows in a frenzy of color and from his position, Tsuzuki was unable to tell who sat behind the driver's wheel.

The driver's door opened slowly and a pair of long black-clad legs unfolded. Real leather shoes gleamed mutely in the flashing lights. Tsuzuki's eyes traveled up those amazingly long legs, taking in every detail - from the narrow hips, a taut abdomen graced with gleaming silk the color of fine pearls, a lean torso and broad shoulders swathed in a tailored jacket that matched the slacks.

Tsuzuki's heart beat a frantic tattoo against his ribs. He wanted to flee into the swarming throng of strangers, to hide from the man who now stood before him. But he couldn't tear his eyes away, or move, or even think as his eyes were drawn irresistibly upward. He had to be certain. He had to look into the face of the man who had posed the greatest threat to his heart, his life...his sanity.

Now, here was the familiar face that had haunted his dreams for months. The skin was smooth, flawless, his nose straight and aristocratic. Silvery hair framed his face, and it tumbled casually, almost artfully over one eye. But it was the eyes that fascinated Tsuzuki the most. They were intense and cold as steel yet at the same time smoldered with fierce intensity behind the lenses of wire framed glasses.

A shiver ran through Tsuzuki's body.

It was him.

Kazutaka Muraki.


TO BE CONTINUED...

Save a Prayer 3/? - Yami no Matsuei

Disclaimer: I don't own Yami no Matsuei and I make no money from this or any other story I write.
Pairings: Muraki x Tsuzuki
Category: General
Rating: R
Warnings: Yaoi, lemon, language
Title: Save a Prayer
Author: yellowhorde
Note: This story takes place after the Kyoto Arc.


PART THREE


Tsuzuki drew away from the elegant man before him, until his back was pressed against the brick wall of the club. He wasn't afraid of Muraki exactly, though he had certainly had reasons to fear more than once in their stormy past. Rather, he was concerned about his body's uncontrollable reaction every time he saw the Doctor. His heart roared in his ears and his lungs constricted until every inhalation was a struggle. Tension sang through every fiber of his being until, torn between his need to flee and his desire to submit to this man's every wish and desire, he was unable to do anything more than stare in fascinated horror.

A young man in a red vest and slacks practically materialized in front of Muraki. He bowed low and the Doctor handed him the keys of the car and murmured a few instructions that Tsuzuki couldn't make out. The valet nodded his understanding then eased his way into the driver's seat, shut the door, then sedately pulled away from the curb and out of sight around the corner, presumably to the nearest parking garage.

Now as the Doctor approached, his footsteps unhurried, Tsuzuki realized just how shabby he must appear when compared to Muraki's grace and finery. His shirt, though clean, was slightly rumpled and the top two buttons were undone to reveal his pale throat. The dark, conservative tie Hisoka had given to him for his last birthday hung at half-mast. Black slacks graced his slender legs and his shoes, though definitely not new, were polished to a shine that almost hid the signs of wear and tear. A black raincoat was folded casually over one arm for the weather forecaster had predicted a late evening thunderstorm.

Muraki's eyes traveled the length of his body slowly taking in every detail. As his gaze lingered here and there, Tsuzuki felt his cheeks flame in embarrassment. But if his appearance bothered the other man, he didn't say and the soft smile that curved the Doctor's lips never faltered. Tsuzuki shivered despite the heat and humidity that pressed down on him like a giant fist. He always felt so vulnerable whenever Muraki turned his penetrating gaze upon him.

"Ah, Mr. Tsuzuki," Muraki sighed happily, "it is so good to see you again."

Tsuzuki inclined his head slightly in way of greeting, "Muraki."

He didn't feel capable of saying more. His thoughts and feelings were in such a jumbled state that he wasn't entirely certain what would come popping out of his mouth if he did try to speak. So he thought it best to say nothing for the moment.

Is it good to see him? Tsuzuki wondered. Have I actually missed Muraki?

Part of him -a very small part- was able to admit that he actually had missed him and this final realization startled him terribly. Ever since the day they had meet he had been inexplicably drawn to Muraki. Oh, he denied it, true enough, but you always lie best when you lie to yourself, don't you? On some unconscious, unspoken level he had actually longed for the Doctor's return. There simply wasn't any other explanation for why the man still held a place in his thoughts, his dreams... his fantasies.

"It is rather warm out this evening, my dear Tsuzuki." Muraki said, "Would you care to step inside and allow me to buy you something to drink?"

Tsuzuki blinked at him for a moment, as if unsure how to respond. Then not wanting to appear like a complete clod, and finding the older man's gallantry surpassingly pleasant after his thankfully brief run-in with that leather-clad barbarian a few moments before, Tsuzuki took a tentative step away from the wall and actually managed a smile. It felt more real than he would have imagined.

"That would be nice." He said, graciously accepted Muraki's offer. The night was young and he had a feeling that he would be in need of a stiff drink. Or perhaps three or four before everything was said and done.

Smiling happily, Muraki began walking towards the club's entrance. After a brief hesitation, Tsuzuki followed him, being sure to keep out of the Doctor's reach, just in case he tried to pull a fast one. It wouldn't be the first time Muraki had tried to grope him. Though the tall Guardian of Death was fairly certain that he wouldn't grab him in public, he wasn't ready to take that chance.

Yet.

*****

Tsuzuki's senses fell under siege the very first moment he stepped into the club. He had known that the music would be loud (he had, after all, been able to pick up its driving beat while still standing outside the building, which should have prepared him for what horrors awaited his poor ears) but it still took him by surprise. His hands were half way to his ears before he realized that he was the only person who seemed to be affected by the volume. Feeling a bit self-conscious, he let his arms fell back down to his sides.

A vivacious hostess in a red dress with blond hair swept up into a French twist approached them and bowed politely. Tsuzuki could see her lips moving but was unable to make out what she was saying. Muraki, however, had no such difficulty. He smiled and made a reply. The hostess bowed again and, spreading her hands in a gesture that suggested that they should follow her, began to gracefully weave her way through several crowded tables until she reached a row of small booths along the far wall. She gestured towards an empty one with a flourish and the two men seated themselves. Menus magically appeared before them and for a few moments and Muraki the hostess pantomimed conversation. Then she was gone.

Tsuzuki gazed about him in frank wonder. Not in a million years would he have believed that Muraki would patronize such an establishment as this. When he had accepted the Doctor's invitation, he had envisioned elegant surroundings with tables covered with crisp linens and set with fine china. Soothing classical music played on piano accompanied by violins and harps had also come to mind. He certainly hadn't expected anything like this.

Though obviously catering to a higher form of clientele, the club, which he would later learn was called Blue, was certainly expensive, but far more trendy than elegant. Its ultra modern interior didn't exactly inspire the somewhat stereotypical romantic candle-lit dinners that had played out in Tsuzuki's mind. And it wasn't the kind of place that lent itself to intimate conversations, either. The obvious reason being that the music was entirely too loud.

Another thing he hadn't expected was a dance floor. Most of the tables and booths took up one side of the club's floor space, and the dance floor the other. Though not check-to-check crowded, there were a large number of well-dressed young adults out on the floor, jumping and jiving to the music. Dozens of spotlights running the full spectrum of the rainbow flashed and spun crazily so that the whole scene reminded Tsuzuki of a kaleidoscope gone mad. The steady beehive-like drone of a large number of people conversing at once, punctuated here and there by sharp peels of drunken laugher, could be heard even over the music.

Obviously, this was a very happening place, which made Tsuzuki wonder why Muraki had brought him here. It didn't seem like something he would participate in. But then again, what did he really know about the man - other than the fact that he was a sadistic killer?

His attention was drawn back to the table when their hostess returned with a bottle of scotch and two glasses. She offered a sunny smile to Tsuzuki then began chatting with Muraki as she poured the alcohol into first one glass then the other. With this task accomplished, she bowed to the Doctor then with one final smile, vanished into the crowd.

Muraki smiled and raised his glass towards Tsuzuki. Feeling foolish, Tsuzuki did likewise.

“To a glorious evening together,” Muraki declared triumphantly and his smoldering eyes bore into Tsuzuki’s. “Let it be one that we will never forget.”

A curious tingling sensation, half fear, half anticipation, radiated throughout Tsuzuki’s body and brought a fierce blush to his cheeks. Numbly, he brought his wineglass to his lips and drained its contents, and in doing so, sealed his fate.


TO BE CONTINUED...

Snow Daze - Gundam Wing

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and I make no money from this or any story I write
Pairing: 5x3 and 1x4
Category: A bit of a humor fic, or at least an attempt at humor.
Warnings: Don’t put rocks in your snowballs! Oh, and also maybe a little OOC, and some lime. Yaoi.
Rating: Let’s say ‘R’ for sexual situations and language.
Summary: School is cancelled on account of snow. How will the G-boys spend the day?
Title: Snow Daze
Author: Yellowhorde
Note: This was my entry for the Jan’- Feb’ 2002 contest at TSFHWGS! (The Society For Helping Wufei Get Some)

( SNOW DAZE )