A/N: Purely anime-verse (meaning that only two Miroku brothers are present) and takes place just after the Venus de Milo arc. Possible spoilers, but nothing major.
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Breaking Waves
By Eerie
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*~*~*~*~*
//Sigh//
He�s refusing to look at me, even after I demanded it of him in my sternest voice, the one he always answers to. Those damn blue eyes as wide and turbulent as the sea upon which they rest only flicker delicately for the briefest second. He may think that I didn�t catch it, but I did, and it only serves to infuriate me further. Even the slight, imperceptible hitch in his breathing was not lost to me, though he tries so hard to hide it now. Standing perfectly still, staring at the waves below that reflect the first rays of dawn�s bloody claws, I know that he�s terrified.
And he should be.
�Yukihiko.� I say his name very softly this time and hope he doesn�t hear the invisible thorns lurking beneath my deceivingly gentle summoning. It must have worked, for he�s lifting his head to meet my reflection�s gaze in the glass.
His brow furls like a child who is on the verge of falling into a fit of wrenching sobs, but only two heavy tears slip silently from each gleaming eye to trail hotly down his cheeks. I know he was trying to control himself; he fought to keep those tears in so much it burned behind his eyes. And he�s just looking at me that way, not bothering to deny his loss of dignity by wiping those cooling streams away.
I take a step closer, slowly, and I know that even if I tore across the room with the intention of viciously attacking him, his heart would beat with the same urgency that it does with this simple movement. But those sapphire orbs must have found bravery from somewhere, because they aren�t even wavering. There�s a pathetic quality about them now, something defeated, and it either proves his guilt or he�s using it intentionally. He knows my weakness for him. For the sweet, innocent eyes of my dearest younger brother looking at me alone.
I take another step. He�s certainly brave despite that expression. Damn him. I will *not* let it work on me tonight. There are important things to be done, lessons he must learn. He failed the job when I had entrusted the burden of responsibility to him. Betrayed our client. Yet it�s these things . . . these things I can come to forgive.
But Yukihiko, you�ve also betrayed me. For this above all else, you must be punished.
*~*~*~*~*
His eyes are cool and collected, but I can see that red anger like a dense curtain drawn taut behind them. I can�t remember ever seeing him so upset. I felt his rage before he even came into the room, a spark growing into a hot flame somewhere deep inside my body. Not even watching the icy tides below could squelch that burning desire to reprimand me. But I have to look at him now. Maybe if I�m complacent, he�ll calm down and forgive me.
But seeing him come closer in that manner, I can�t stop the tears of fear from falling, and yet I somehow can�t look away. He�s not really angry about my failing our assignment. Nor is he genuinely mad about my insubordination. No, he�s upset about *that*.
I have to defend myself. Say something, anything to take his train of thought away from hurting me. My mouth begins to move before I even realize it. �Brother, please.� The words are so quiet and strangled that I can barely hear them; it�s like someone else�s voice crying out from the deep sea below the window.
He falters for a moment, sighing heavily for the second time. But whatever pity he may have felt then died quickly. He�s approaching me again, and this time I have to turn my eyes away.
�We have to talk,� he says as he pauses at the foot of the sofa. I nervously glance at him in the glass and see that he�d holding his arm out for me to take a seat. If I don�t move, he�ll become even more furious. But I can�t even bring my feet to start; I can hardly feel my legs at all. So I wait quietly, and knowing that I�ve just doomed myself, I close my eyes.
*~*~*~*~*
He�s deliberately ignoring me, the bastard. I grip the back of the sofa so hard I�m sure I could easily tear it apart. But I restrain myself, though the sound of my nails scraping brutally against the material beneath them seems to speak what could have been my intention.
�Come here. Now.� My voice is filled with deadly calm, like a storm lingering on the horizon, waiting to break. There is no way he could have mistaken it. He�s not a fool.
Christ, but he�s still standing there! I can�t take it anymore.
My feet are swifter this time as I close the distance. He�s nothing more than a horrified mouse, too paralyzed to move even as the cat descends. I seize him roughly at the shoulders and swing him around to face me, my palm falling hard and swift across his smooth cheek like the lash from a whip�s tail. I probably shouldn�t have done that; I know it stung like hell, because I can feel its echo on my own face. But really. What was I supposed to do?
His surprise at my violent reaction makes his eyes go wide, and he puts a hand gently to his smarting cheek with disbelief. He looks like he�s ready to cry again.
�I�m not going away. So you might as well come here.� I�m gripping his shoulder tightly as I lead him toward the couch, but he�s not stupid enough to try to run from me. It�s more for effect that I do it. He doesn�t even squirm beneath my steely fingers.
He falls like a sack of broken bones on the end of the seat, instantly curling up into himself, as a kitten that just realized its owner was a cruel man would do. I kneel before him and reach out, the action causing him to flinch away from my hand. Scowling, I pause to let him know that I have no immediate intention of striking him again before I find hold on the frame of his large glasses. He lets me remove them, but his stare is far away.
�Look at me.� Of course he has no choice. Glossy blue eyes lift to gaze forlornly into mine, a silent pleading for mercy flashing within their oceanic depths. They�re so dazzlingly beautiful, the only jewels in the world I could never tire of admiring.
But they are my jewels. They should not have strayed from me.
*~*~*~*~*
Shivers are starting to work through my body no matter how much I want to stop them. He can see that I�m trembling, but he averts his attention to set my glasses aside with a strange sort of care.
�Yukihiko.� His eyes are fixed to the object on the floor as if he�s trying to make it move with his mind. When his mouth opens to speak again, everything feels as though it�s going into slow motion. �I want you to tell me exactly why you chose to lose to that retriever.� His lips and words were out of sync, and I�m starting to feel dizzy. I just want to go to sleep.
How should I reply? Nothing I say will make a bit of difference. He sees my friendship with Ginji-kun as a threat. He�s jealous. Once Natsuhiko believes something, there�s not much anyone can do to persuade him to change his view. So why should I even bother?
I allow my eyes to close, the illusion of escape into the dark comforts of unconsciousness too appealing, and so fall deeper into the promise of my suffering.
His hands slam down on either side of my thighs into the plush cushion, jarring my nerves. When I open my eyes to see his teeth bared in irritation, I suddenly want to disappear.
�He didn�t touch you, did he?� I was right.
Why does he have to be like this? Why can�t I have other friends like normal people? The thought makes me angry, and my voice returns. �It was nothing like that. He�s just my friend and that�s all.�
He moves closer to me, and the sight of his pupils narrowing gives me the chills. �Liar.� It was only a feather of a whisper, but I could feel the true weight of what he felt behind it.
�I�m not lying. It�s the truth.� He�s not buying it, even though it *is* true. Mostly.
At first it was simple interest in the prospects of a new friend, but it didn�t take long for me to come to really like Ginji, so much that I wanted him to stay with me for a longer period of time. I couldn�t kill him even with the pressure of the client�s demand that I do so. Even if Moen hadn�t shown up when he did, I still would have refused. But the pressure that Natsuhiko put on me in my last fight with the blond retriever was what got me. Despite my desire to resolve our conflicting interests, Brother�s influence made me too serious, and it got dangerous. Because of it, I almost killed my only friend. I didn�t like that at all.
His fingers curl around and close hard on my chin, breaking my bitter reverie. �Did you forget that you�re mine? Who else in the world could possibly love you more than I do?� He�s practically snarling.
�N-no. I didn�t forget.� I hate how weak I feel right now. I wish I could stand up to him, defend Ginji and myself, but Brother�s always been the strong one. I just wish I could step out of his shadow for a little while to enjoy the sun, even if it means getting burned. But he stands far too tall; his sense of protectiveness runs too deep.
�Then why this game? I know you better than that, and you�re simplifying the matter.� His eyes stare hard into mine and it�s there that I see the things I�ve often wanted but could never bring myself to be.
�You don�t need to be upset, really.� I�m grasping at straws now, I think. My mind�s a muddle for reasoning with him; I�m amazed that my voice didn�t shatter like glass because of it.
His countenance softens the slightest bit and he loosens his grasp on my jaw. That expression is almost thoughtful. �I don�t need to be upset, you say. I lost a piece of your heart tonight, and I don�t need to be upset? Dear Yukihiko, I think I have *every* reason to be upset.� What I may have perceived as a chance for some miraculous benediction has hardened to hopelessness once again. The calm in his voice is disturbing.
But his eyes are still burning with intensity as he says with concrete deliberateness, �I want you back. All of you.�
*~*~*~*~*
There�s a part of me deep inside that�s already regretting what I�m about to do. That same part is pleading with me to pause and reconsider before I act on rashness. But no, I can�t be soft on this matter. It�s far too important to me. Not every lesson and punishment in turn can be gentle and patient. Sometimes we must be cruel.
I lift one knee to rest on the sofa�s edge, drawing myself up over him. I can�t help but tremble as I lean into the body below me, pushing him back forcefully as I press my lips firmly against his. A muffled cry of surprise gently rattles against my mouth as he squeezes his eyes shut. I won�t close mine, however; I want to see his every move, his every reaction, so I�ll know the exact moment my lesson finds hold. It might be useful information in the future, though I hope such a time doesn�t come again.
As I delve my tongue into his warm mouth, he begins to squirm, his desire to get away all too evident. Is it that unpleasant, Yukihiko? I�d swear my blood is nearly boiling. But I push harder, so deep into that sweet cavern I feel like choking. I plunder on until his gag reflex triggers and attempts to push me out, his teeth scraping hard against my tongue as he wrenches his head to the side.
When I pull away I can already taste the metallic tang of blood masking the faint sweetness of his saliva. I look down at him, astounded, the thin wormlike stream of my scarlet essence tracing a fragile path from the corner of his mouth. His eyes right now are so wide they look as though they may bulge from his skull.
�Did you just bite me?� I mumble almost absently, still shocked that he had done it. He doesn�t reply, though I can tell from his sudden shift of aura that he�s about to throw himself against me to try and escape. But he�s not going anywhere.
With swiftness so sudden even I find myself surprised, I seize his arms and brutally pin them above his head, pressing my body�s weight against his slighter frame. He cries out feebly in pain and tosses his head from side to side like a squirming hunt in the trap.
�Please don�t, Brother. Stop it!� His voice is already straining with hoarseness from desperation.
When I�m assured that one hand gruffly restraining his taut wrists will hold them firm without him slipping away, I let my other fly to strike his face again. God, but that hurts. It�s no surprise that he�s stilled significantly to become a quivering mass of sobs and incoherent entreaties. I want to see if perhaps I did too much damage with that lash, but my own unwilled tears are making it difficult to see clearly.
�It�s because I love you that I have to do this, Yukihiko.�
*~*~*~*~*
He says that as if he truly believes it, and somewhere in my mind I know that he does. But my helplessness and sudden anger at his abusiveness makes me blurt out without thinking, �You don�t love me, Brother. You only see me as your doll.�
I can�t bring myself to open my eyes to see how he�s reacting to that, but I have a strong feeling that his face is a freshly painted canvas for hurt. He�s still holding my wrists so tightly my skin is starting to burn beneath his grasp, and his weight remains oppressive over me.
He hesitates. �No, you�re wrong about that. You�ll soon understand that I�m doing the right thing, the best thing for you. For us.� His voice is a whisper laden with huskiness.
The sensation of his fingers feathering over my stinging cheek makes me start, but he quickly leans into me so I can barely move. His lips smother mine once again, and I know that it won�t just stop there. As much as I want to take control, I know I�m ever the helpless one in his stern presence. Because if I could hardly save Ginji, how could I possibly save myself?
As if the situation couldn�t possibly get worse, I suddenly feel my blood quicken, and I recognize its implications instantly. As the subtly electric currents of arousal work their unwelcome course through my veins, I fight to think of something to slow their progress. Just the reality of the scene inflicted upon me should be enough, but only serves to do the worst, and I can feel my pants growing tighter and tighter in the last place I even want to think about.
I shiver again with fearful anticipation as Natsuhiko inevitably notices and descends his hand to my crotch, strategically pulling my fly open. I try to wrestle away, to plead with him that I didn�t want him to do it, but he speaks before I get a chance. �Don�t struggle, or I�ll have to be tougher.�
It�s difficult to do that, but my better judgment, which is nothing more than a weak voice crying out in the back of my mind, somehow convinces me that I�d better do as I�m told. When he discovers my erection he expels a single, soft snort of cold amusement against my lips.
�I�d say you like it rough, Yukihiko. Just where did you learn that, anyway?� That tone is hurt, angry, and fascinated all at once, as if he really doesn�t know the answer to his question.
I want to throw a biting remark at him, scream at him that it�s all his fault. He�s played a large part of my influence since I was a just a child, and I could never brush aside that chill hardness that has always lurked within him. I was his favorite, and he lavished me with attention at times platonic, at others frightening, so I was content to simply ignore the glimpse I caught of the elusive shadows swimming within his soul. But no matter how many smiles of sheer adoration he showered over me, I would always stand with a bit of caution. And rare though they were, my nightmares never forgot to wear his face. He is my dark half, after all.
But I love him. No matter what, I�ll still love him. He can beat me, tear my hair out, lock me up in a cell, even murder me, and I know I�ll forgive him in the end.
*~*~*~*~*
A weak whimper tumbles against my tongue from his mouth as I touch him. I�m not savage in this action, but neither am I too gentle. His body trembles as if my sword-calloused fingers are freezing, but they are just the opposite, as hot as he is aroused.
Our breathing becomes heavier, my own ministrations apparently taking effect upon myself as well. His passion and fear are sinking beneath my skin, making me want him more and more, building my driven passion closer to paramount. I can feel my blood neglect the vitals of my body to achieve this, a burning river pumping from my heart with only one purpose in this remarkable moment.
His jaw goes rigid as he quickly climaxes and a strangled feral moan rumbles over my lips. I feel myself lose control at the sensation of this, his warm liquid spilling over my hand and through my fingers, and I bite down on his lower lip to restrain my voice as I groan my own release.
I let go of his arms now to work his shirt up over his head. He�s too occupied with the lingering effects of what has just taken place to resist. The material slides away easily and I cast it to the floor before performing the same action upon myself.
The light of dawning realization only returns to his eyes when we�re both naked and I�m running appreciative hands over his well-formed body. He looks at me with those astounding orbs with a more subdued alarm this time, and I struggle not to smile. Some of his essence clings to my hand, and I lift it to slowly run my tongue across the palm. He watches me blankly, obviously not sure whether to blush or to blanch.
I suddenly want to feel his tongue on me, worshiping me. I�m quickly becoming aroused again with the thought as I hook my other hand around the back of his head and lower it meaningfully toward myself. I don�t need to say anything; he knows exactly what I would say. Because of this, his face crunches slightly in anxiety, but he complies after a moment�s hesitation anyway.
His mouth is infernally soft and warm as it reluctantly takes in a bit of what is demanded of him. I almost feel like a letch at the sight of it: tears still staining his young, pure face as his obedient lips stretch beautifully to take me in. But that feeling seems to inspire me more than it does befoul me, and I recover to full arousal swiftly.
His work is slow and somewhat clumsy, and though it agitates me, it also turns me on more than it would if he were perfectly skilled. I watch him intently, only taking my eyes away to draw an occasional, languorous swipe of my wet tongue over the diminishing traces of his mild essence still clinging to my palm. After I refresh my memory of his taste, the sensation of his young mouth enveloping me intensifies dramatically, and I have to struggle to prolong the event.
I�ll admit it�s true; I am using him to some degree. But my lesson is imbued in this, and when it�s all over he will learn to love and appreciate me more than he had in the past. Perhaps that retriever never did dirty him, as his cautiously fragile manner right now seems to be illustrating, but it hardly matters now. Not right now.
My back arches on its own as my orgasm suddenly catches me unaware. All thoughts blur into a colorfully mad whirlwind as I let go, and time itself stops for a stretch.
*~*~*~*~*
As the cloud of hazy white dissipates and I come back to myself, the first thing I think is: I can�t believe what I just did. But what�s more, I can�t believe what it did to me. As much as I hated myself for giving in so easily, I also found a part of myself wanting to go through with it, to do more than just appease my brother�s tempest mood. Though I found it a bit strange that he had spent himself just from touching me, I also found it dismayingly like a compliment of sorts. Skill is something I know I don�t have, but he seemed to enjoy it anyway.
I�m suddenly aware of the wetness spreading over my hands; I must have pulled away close to the last minute to avoid getting it in my mouth. I was scared. And before I can make an effort to move, I notice the traces of my second release spotting my abdomen. Had I been touching myself all the while? I can�t remember at all, but I must have been. All I remember was the ripping white that overtook me when his back arched, and I was lost in its scorching fire once again.
Natsuhiko suddenly sits up and looks closely at me, making me flinch away out of surprise. His gaze is hard, but tempered with lethargy. �Have you learned your lesson? Or should we continue?� he says.
I look away to shake my head feebly and simply say no before his fingertips brush beneath my chin and cause me to meet his eyes again. I know what he wants me to say, so I say it.
�I�m glad to hear that, Yukihiko, because my love for you is no trite thing. Don�t underestimate it again.� I nod my head before mirroring his actions to redress. He�s back to his usual dreary self it seems, so there�s little point in trying to talk to him. What in the world would I even say?
I feel strange, confused. I feel as if I�m being pursued be something and a fork in the road has come before me; I have to choose one path before the monster on my heels catches up to and devours me. Should I feel angry? Traumatized? Filthy? Yes. I should feel all of these things quite distinctively.
So why don�t I?
I fix my glasses upon my face and turn around to look at him, but he�s no longer here. He left too silently for me to notice, so wrapped up in these thoughts of mine. But he didn�t bother to close the door all the way. As I stand here and stare at the soft light slipping through that crack, I become transfixed. It�s as if that beam slipping into the room is telling me that I�m not a prisoner, that I still have free will.
I�ve already forgiven him, and still do I love him despite his cruelties, as I knew I would. My feet take me back to the window to allow me the sea�s view again, and the glass-muffled sound of waves breaking against the rocks lulls me a little. There�s an odd satisfaction within me.
. . . Natsuhiko is like that sea, as I am like that shore. He may be wild and filled with turmoil, but I�ll be at the other side for him to break against, waiting, to ease his suffering and doubt. One element depends on the other. For without the sea, there would be no shore.
*~*~*~*~*