Kagerou

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by: Ashurato (formerly Asurahime)

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"How does it feel to want him so bad, knowing he belongs to someone else?"

He snapped around in his fury and his twin ponytails preemptively lashed out at the blond-haired Klausian behind him. He knew that Cliff had said it to rile him up, but despite all he did to deny it, the truth behind the accusation still stung. From the beginning, everyone knew that his mutual antagonistic relationship with a certain blue-haired maggot named Fayt Leingod was a farce—at least on his end. But few people actually understood his need for that façade. Unfortunately, the blond-haired ape ad the uncanny ability to show up where he was not wanted at the most inopportune times. This was exacerbated by his abnormally large nose, which he favored sticking into other people's affairs.

Albel had lost track of how many times he had offered to rearrange Cliff's face, that one day, he expected to grant the favor without prior express permission.

"What, no acidic comebacks? No death threats? Are you losing your edge so young, Albel?" asked the man with a death wish. "You must really want him so bad to not even deny it."

His uninjured right hand hovered threateningly over the hilt of the Crimson Scourge as he glared at Cliff through the raven hair that covered his eyes. He did not like being played as a fool, but the somber expression that did not match Cliff's tone stopped him from committing murder.

They were all supposed to learn to get along, what with Luther's ongoing re-education as to why deleting the universe would not be a productive idea. After all, how much damage could little bits of data inflict upon God? But Albel, never one to follow the stereotypes, had proven that indeed, he could defy even the gods when Cliff and Fayt had to forcibly drag him off from killing Luther at first sight.

Which explains why he was currently stuck in the blasted room with the most infuriating companion he could possibly be stuck with.

"I don't know what you're talking about," snapped Albel with the faint hope that Cliff would shut up.

"Seriously, Albel. If you really missed Luther that much, you could always just have Fayt—ack!" Cliff's sentence would forever remain unfinished as Albel's clawed hand pinned him to the wall by his neck and lifted him a whole foot off the ground. In his mind, he realized that his teasing might have gone a little too far.

Just as quick as he had pinned Cliff like a butterfly on cardboard, Albel released him with a grimace. "Mind your own business, fool."

Cliff coughed to clear his constricted throat, fully understanding that Albel had not expected to react so violently. And it was mostly his fault for baiting the swordsman, after all. He also knew that that was the best thing he was going to get to an apology. Albel doesn't apologize… but then again, he normally doesn't hesitate either. "You're easier to read than you think. The more you tried to hide it, the clearer it was for everyone to suspect that you were hiding something. Hell, even that brat Roger knows and his head is as dense as damascus."

Albel sneered and turned away to look out the window of Aquios castle. Despite the head haze of summer, the skies had begun to darken and an unexpected rain started to fall. In the midst of the freak storm, he saw two figures, one with golden hair with his hand raised to the sky, and the other with blue hair with a quivering bundle in his arms. Albel grit his teeth as he immediately recognized who they were.

"But Fayt's different," continued Cliff as he sat in one of the chairs. "You treat him differently and show a much more savage face to him than the rest of us. He will never take any notice unless you say it clearly to his face. And I, for one, never expected you to have any qualms about doing so."

The window pane that Albel held to balance himself nearly cracked from the force of his grip when he saw Luther lower his hand, turn towards Fayt and caress the younger man's face. And try as he might to ignore Cliff's words, the echoing clarity of his accusation was driving him mad.

But of course, these symptoms couldn't possibly be—

"—jealous that he knows everything there is to know about the Eternal Sphere."

Albel slammed his good hand against the window, shattering it into fragments of wood and glass. But he did not pay much attention to his bleeding hand and he turned to fix a glacial glare at Cliff. "Your mouth keeps opening and all sorts of incoherent ape-language shit comes out that you expect me to understand. Quit fucking around with all these mind games before I sew your mouth shut."

Cliff growled. "You're going to pay for that window. You've destroyed enough property in both Aquaria and Airyglyph to bankrupt both nations."

"That is none of your concern, maggot," smirked Albel as he made to leave the room.

"Okay, I tried to be civil about this and pussyfoot the situation because Maria and Sophia requested some delicacy of me," yelled Cliff. "But I'll be blunt about it like Adray and I agreed to do in the first place."

Albel reached the door and made to turn the knob, hoping to effectively silence the moron's incessant blathering. "Go to hell."

"You want to fuck him, don't you?"

That one sharp, crude accusation resounded like a death knell in his head. But as he turned and opened his mouth to tell the Klausian off, Cliff had rushed forward and emptied the contents of a small bottle into his mouth. In his surprise at being caught off-guard, Albel swallowed the fizzy, almost cloyingly sweet liquid by reflex. Almost immediately, his body became numb and he was rooted where he stood.

"Just stay still and listed to what I have to say for a second."

Albel quickly realized his situation and reacted accordingly. "What in the hell did you give me, worm!"

Cliff barely managed to suppress a smirk of satisfaction. Nel definitely knew her potions. "I don't know what you're talking about, but you never did answer my question."

"Stupid questions don't deserve to be answered."

"You know, I could have easily asked Nel to slip a truth serum potion into that bottle, but she said that she had some semblance of morals. Look, I'm not trying to coerce you to—"

Albel's laugh sounded as sarcastic and bitter as his tone. "What part of showing me in a room, interrogating me, and paralyzing me not describe coercion, you maggot?"

He didn't really care that other people made assumptions on how he felt. But he was much too proud and cynical to ever voice such feelings out loud. Fayt had always allowed the weight of the world to fall upon his shoulders and smiled even though he was slowly becoming buried by the weight. He would be near death, but he would waste the last of his energy to heal someone's broken leg. Now, he was bound to a god who could destroy the universe at a whim—the sole thread of spider silk that kept the Creator sane. And it made Albel sick. Luther was aware of everything, what more harm could other people knowing do?

Of course, there is that little monkey wrench in his plans called the deletion of the Eternal Sphere. That would certainly be inconvenient.

"Luther won't ever give him up, you know. No matter what anyone does, the only one with enough power to stand up to him is Fayt himself," said Cliff with an unreadable expression on his face. "But…"

The Klausian's unfinished sentence caused Albel to study his features more carefully. Cliff had moved to the shattered window, stress and fatigue drew deep lines and shadows on his otherwise youthful face. Suspiciously, Albel also noticed the pained look manifest itself in Cliff's ice-blue eyes that had nothing to do with the frigid rain that fell in needle-like torrents. Then came sharp, jarring realization.

"You fucking hypocrite," hissed Albel as he dimly noticed that whatever paralysis potion Cliff had forced upon him had started to lose its effect.

"Yes, I am that and more," smiled Cliff grimly. "Mirage actually used the term 'coward' and then kicked me somewhere that should not be mentioned in good society. But I care too much about the repercussions of my actions to go up against a god. I'm not strong enough to shoulder that same overwhelming burden that Fayt carries."

Cliff's confessions only served to further incite Albel's fury. "This is why you kept me here? For your little self-deprecating pep-talk about how pathetic you are and expect me to understand and commiserate in your pitiful state? Then that mannish woman had every right to halt your ability for potential procreation! You have no right to say you care for that little maggot if all you can do is whine like a little bitch about why you can't!"

"Oh, and you can?"

"Unlike you, I don't hold warm and fuzzy feelings for that little maggot, but if I do want something, not even a god can stand in my way." Albel wrenched himself from the remaining effects of the potion and walked out the door, slamming it hard enough that it was almost torn from its jambs. Yet in his disgust and fervent desire to leave the room, he did not notice when Cliff's somber expression morphed into an easy grin.

"Maria and Sophia are gonna go bankrupt from how much they owe me." He then fished out the empty bottle from his pocket and held it towards the light. "Now we just wait until the Tears kick in."

In truth, Albel knew in his nature that he was foolhardy enough and irresponsible enough to defy Luther. All he had to do was recall the memory outside an inn in Peterny when he felt his breath catch and throat constrict from the very first time. It nauseated him that he had held his breath in anticipation for Fayt to share in their mutual hatred, while the irrational part of his mind whispered the forbidden desire to be understood. To be accepted rather than neglected for who he was.

For those three ridiculous words to be formed by lips that dare not utter them.

It all seemed so easy, but Albel dare not even give them form in his thoughts, lest the desire to form them into tangible words grow overwhelming. But the façade of indifference was cold and artificial, the perfect base to regroup his hatred and ignore the worsening feeling of happiness that unfurled in his heart.

He did not need anyone. Least of all someone with otherworldly green eyes with all the powers of Destruction—power that infinitely surpassed his own. But therein was the problem, for Albel had no desire to be someone's knight. And Fayt, out of everyone in existence, conveniently did not need anyone to save him.

Fayt needed an equal to be beside him, and out of all beings in creation, who better fit for Destruction than Creation himself?

And yet, the memory of that night defied his thoughts as much as it strengthened his resolve. Fayt, self-sacrificing Fayt, who would stand before the mouth of Hell and demand for Folstar to release the souls in his captivity. And win.

Fayt was supposed to belong to no one, just as Albel had nothing of himself to give to anyone.

"Stupid idiot," Albel growled softly, unsure of who the bigger idiot was. All he knew was that the stress of too much contemplation and the after-effects of the potion made his head spin. Those coupled with Cliff's words and his own suppressed anger made him feel on edge and dangerously close to losing it. With the memory of Luther and Fayt's close proximity, Albel felt fit to kill.

He staggered towards his room, knowing better than to associate with anyone when he had even less control over his mental state than usual. He walked like the dead with his hand against the wall to guide him, not quite trusting his own feet to support his weight. His room was at the quieter part of the castle, as he could not stomach the noise and gaiety that inundated the more commonly traversed corridors of Aquios castle. There, no one could hear him scream. Unfortunately, that also meant that he had farther to walk in order to retreat into seclusion. As he turned the corner, a particularly vicious wave of nausea made him lose his grip on the wall and he fell to his knees. Moments later, he was unconscious before he ever hit the marble floor.

The last thing he saw was a pair of green eyes that widened in fear as Fayt turned the corner.

----- -----

He woke up to a warm weight that purred heavily on his chest. Years of training had sharpened his senses to be able to perceive his surroundings before he even opened his eyes. And he knew that other than the unusual presence on his chest, he was not alone. Fortunately, the other person in the room had shown no signs of noticing his shift to wakefulness.

However, the cat was not so easily fooled and the purring was abandoned in favor of liberal licks of a small, rough tongue to his face. Little worm… but then the licking stopped and the weight of the cat was lifted off of him.

"Don't do that Dion, he's asleep and you'll wake him up. Stay here for now."

Albel grit his teeth at the sound of Fayt's voice. Of everyone he wanted to associate with at the moment, the boy in the room was right at the top of the list, just above 4D beings and muscle-bound apes. But he didn't have time to think before a careful hand pushed back his bangs and placed a cool, damp towel over his burning forehead. His surprise at the gesture was so great that he forgot feigning to be asleep and opened his eyes.

Fayt was startled when he saw previously closed crimson eyes stare right through him. "Oh, sorry Albel. I didn't mean to wake you."

"What are you doing here, worm?" Albel cursed how his voice crackled as he tried to speak. He once again cursed his weak constitution towards poisons and the ape that started it all in the first place. "Don't you have some god-taming to do?"

Fayt sighed in exasperation as the black, red-eyed cat wrapped two tails around his neck and made itself comfortable on his shoulder. It was not that he expected Albel's gratitude—the man would rather bite his tongue and die before admitting he needed help—but he was hoping that Albel would not fall back to insults immediately upon awakening. The result of that usually left someone incapacitated for days.

"How are you feeling? It's rare for you to pass out in the middle of the hallway like that." Fayt ignored the stab at him and Luther, fully aware of Albel's disdain of the latter. But something bothered him. "The last time something like this happened to you was—"

"Because it's common knowledge that I enjoy poisoning myself on a regular basis," sneered Albel. Sarcasm simply dripped from his tone. As much as he longed to place all the blame on Cliff and the man's partners in crime… that would also entail admitting that worms had caught him unawares. A blow to his head was preferable to a blow to his pride. "Now get out."

The particularly sharp tone of voice caused Fayt to flinch. "Maybe you need more rest. Dion, please stay with Albel for now. Keep him in bed at all cost." He bent down lower to allow the black feline to descend from its perch on his shoulder on to the bed. It yawned widely before stalking forward to reclaim its former position on Albel's chest.

Crimson locked on to crimson as Albel stared threateningly at the cat, who stared back, unfazed by the dangerous man. "Get the fuck off me."

Fayt watched, amused as Dion gave a cat's version of a smirk as if saying to the Elicoorian, 'tough shit.'

Apparently well-versed in cat-language, Albel growled but allowed himself to sink back into his pillow. But he kept his attention focused on anything but the blue-haired boy as Fayt made his way toward the door. He knew exactly where Fayt was headed, and although that irrational part of his mind was screaming for him to stay here, his mask was made of sterner stuff.

"I will return later to check on you. Try not to move around too much," Fayt smiled. "Dion bites, after all."

"I don't need your help, so don't bother coming back."

An unfathomable expression glinted in Fayt's eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. "Then I will return to pick up Dion later. You can just accept that as my purpose if you want to. I won't be gone long. Just some 'god-taming' as you said." He then walked out the door without any further glance at Albel and closed it softly behind him, something that relieved the swordsman just as much as it irritated him.

"Idiotic maggot," whispered Albel, but his eyes trailed to the door with a look of disappointment and chagrin he was not aware of himself. He might, just might, have wanted Fayt to stay. "Why can't these idiots mind their own business?" He made to get up from the bed, but a particularly vicious bite to his good arm froze him with unexpected pain. "Ouch! You worm!"

Dion hissed right back at Albel. His fur stood on end and his two tails lashed in displeasure at being jostled. He reached both paws forward over the irritable man's mouth and used his entire weight to push him back on to the bed. "Mrrow…" It was the best he could do to chastise him.

"Get off me, maggot!" snarled Albel. "Take your flea-ridden--!"

Although he did not understand human speech, Dion could still tell the difference between a raving human from a calm one. He turned around and whacked his two tails against Albel's face, effectively silencing the man. "Meow!" Now that was the best way to shut him up.

Albel growled low in his throat but sank back to the bed, too dizzied and nauseated to struggle anymore. "You disgust me."

Dion resettled himself, closed his eyes and wrapped his two tails around him. He opened one eye just in time to see Albel fall to unconsciousness.

'Right back at you.'

----- -----

Fayt watched as Luther lifted his palm from the ground to reveal and impossibly white flower unlike any he had ever seen before. But his continued amazement over the Creator's shift in nature was pushed to the back of his mind in his concern for Albel.

"Who would have thought that I would spend my time here, a place I was so set on deleting," whispered Luther. "That there is more to it than playing God. I was such a fool." When Fayt did not reply, he straightened and turned to face him.

"Is something the matter, Fate? You have been quiet since you returned."

Fayt was shaken out of his delirium when Luther addressed him directly. Green eyes met questioning blue through the misty rain. So much time had passed since that fated fight between them in 4D space that his distrust had all but melted away. And although the tension hasn't completely faded, their relationship as God and Heretic had mellowed out enough that Fayt had conceded when Luther asked him for his companionship.

But… perhaps Luther had taken the word 'companionship' in a different fashion than Fayt expected.

"I am all right, Luther. Just a little tired from all this heat," lied Fayt, knowing that at least he was one person that Luther could not completely read.

Luther gave a faint smile and the light rain ceased, replaced by a cool breeze that cause the trees around Aquios to lightly sway. "It's more than that, I know."

Fayt leaned against one of the trees, unsure of how to answer. His silence prompted Luther to walk close to him, so close that to a pair of watching crimson eyes, it looked like the Creator did not understand the concept of personal space.

"Have you given my proposal any thought?" whispered Luther, sounding more vulnerable than any proud god of the universe should. It both fascinated and infuriated him when his creations had defied him, demanding the ability to exercise their own free will. He was enraged that they would not bend to his commands like bits of data should behave. And yet… it wasn't until they all rebelled and left that he found out how lonely he truly was. "I still await your answer."

Even with his angels, God is alone.

"Luther, it's not that simple," replied Fayt, his blue hair shadowed his green eyes.

"It's as simple as yes or no. You fully understand that I can no longer control your free will."

Fayt gazed up at Luther, his expression solid in his conviction. "Then the answer is no."

Luther sighed and leaned forward just as Fayt turned his face away. He already knew Fayt's answer even though he could not read his mind, but he could not help hoping. "It is a rare thing to receive the love of a god," he whispered softly in Fayt's ear, his tone half-impressed and half-warning. "And even rarer to refuse it."

"Nothing is impossible anymore," said Fayt with a smirk. "And I never thought of you as a god."

Luther felt his heartbeat quicken at the unexpected confession. It would have been hopeless if Fayt had completely separated their existences as Eternal Sphere resident and 4D being. "I have all the time in the universe, Fate. And I will use every second of that eternity if I must to convince you to be with me."

"I don't have eternity, Luther."

"If you wanted it, you know I could grant it for you."

Fayt pushed off from the tree and shook his head. "No! I have no need for eternity. I am needed here and just like all the denizens of this universe, I will die when my time comes."

Luther sighed in disappointment before he moved away to give Fayt room to breathe. He walked back to the sparkling white flower and bent down to gently touch its petals. "For all those billions who wish to live forever, who pray to a higher power to bestow upon their mortal shells eternal life, the only one Creation truly loves rejects the gift when offered. Would you exile me to this barren existence, my Fate?"

"I am neither your judge nor your executioner, Luther. I am just one person among many."

"Are you in love with someone?"

The suddenness of the question momentarily robbed Fayt of his voice.

"Is that why you choose to remain here?" The breeze picked up to match Luther's mood.

As ridiculous as the question sounded to his ears, Fayt knew he had to answer. "Honestly, I'm not sure if I'm capable of loving a single person anymore."

The wind died, but Luther did not reply. They both stood frozen where they were until the sun began to dip down low in the horizon, staining everything a light shade of orange. Fayt kept his attention trained on Luther, but the Owner of Sphere 211 seemed more than a bit preoccupied with his own thoughts.

"If this is all for today, I will see you tomorrow Luther."

If Fayt expected Luther to grant him a response, he did not show it and Luther did not deign to give him one. With one last glance, he turned around and made his way back to the castle.

Luther sighed as he sensed Fayt walk further and further away from him. "I supposed most of the blame falls on me. Alteration, Connection and Destruction were programmed specifically for the Eternal Sphere. It would make sense that they would put the whole of the universe before the desires of a single person. But still…"

A black cat walked towards Luther and wound itself protectively around the flower. Luther blinked at the unexpected action before his eyes softened in realization. And in a rare moment in Luther's life, he laughed.

Dion stared irritably at the laughing god and wound his tails tighter. And yet he felt infinitely grateful. He even allowed Luther to pet his head and warily watched as the Creator touched his flower's beautiful petals.

"What would you do… Ameena?"

The flower glowed an unearthly white in defiance of the rapidly bleeding light.

----- -----

Everything burned. From the tips of his hair to the toes of his feet, Albel felt as if he was set aflame. The heat clung to his skin and raced through his veins, sending his heart pounding hard as if he was in the midst of battle.

He opened his eyes, hazy from sleep, and vaguely noticed that Dion was gone. Good riddance, he thought, but his musings were cut short as a particularly nasty spike of heat tore a pained hiss from his lips. The rapidly reddening light that streamed through the windows only served to further exacerbate the situation. He pushed the blankets aside and the white linen felt like the hot mists of the Urssa Lava Caves against his skin.

When he staggered to his feet, Albel was all but ready to combuts. He found the bowl of cool water that Fayt had used to cool his fever, but he quickly learned that touching the liquid provided no succor for his pain. His pulse raced and every small gesture sent jolts of electricity through his body.

Not even the most potent of paralysis potions had ever affected Albel to this degree. There was only one explanation.

The potion he was given did not only have temporary paralytic properties. It was a compound potion with multiple facets to it. If there was anything worse than one potion, it was two.

"Those fucking worms!" snarled Albel as he lost control over both his temper and self-restraint. He had been doubly deceived and now he felt murderous. They had played with him for the last time.

With a calmness that belied the agony that terrorized his frame, Albel reached for the Crimson Scourge and headed for the door. His eyes were cloudy with dark intent, like clotted blood, and his lips had twisted into a feral snarl. He wanted retribution and like the very embodiment of war, he was not going to be satisfied until blood has been spilled. But before he reached out to wrench the door open, a soft knocking stopped him in his tracks.

"Albel, are you awake?" Fayt's voice was softer than usual, afraid of waking what might have been a sleeping dragon in the room. Little did he know that the dragon was awake and ready to breathe fire upon him. Before he could open the door, it was ripped open from his hands. A steel gauntlet shot out, grabbed the front of his shirt and forcibly dragged him inside. "Wait! What are you doing?"

Fayt was so jarred by the suddenness of the attack that he did not notice Albel lock the door before he was thrown to the floor and pinned. The impact to his head made him see stars and the killer intent palpably radiating off of Albel warned Fayt that the Elicoorian swordsman was not playing around. He wince as the metal claw tightened around his neck, cutting off his air supply and smoldering where it came in direct contact with his skin.

"Albel, has your fever gotten worse?"

Albel laughed as Fayt struggled for breath under him. He had never seen the embodiment of Destruction so completely in his mercy—suffering more than he himself was suffering—that it shot jolts of shameful pleasure down his spine to pool at his groin. "This is all your fault. You made it all come to this. It is your fault that I'm losing my fucking mind!"

The pressure of Albel's gauntlet on Fayt's neck alleviated in favor of pinning both of his wrists high over his head. He watched as Fayt coughed to clear his lungs and forced his conscience to the back of his mind. At that point, all he knew was that the touch of Fayt's skin and his pain provided blessed relief for the maddening heat that nothing else seemed to be able to.

"Let me go," hissed Fayt icily. "You're burning up and should still be in bed."

"I don't want to hear another word come out of your mouth!" snapped Albel as he eyed the zipper on Fayt's shirt. His lips twisted into an unbalanced grin and an insane light came to his eyes as he ripped the zipper down its path, exposing Fayt's chest. "On second thought, scream all you want, maggot. No one can hear you here."

Contrary to external appearances, Fayt was not as oblivious to sex as other people believed. He knew exactly the extent of how much and what Luther wanted of him, but Albel—despite obviously not in his right frame of mind (should such a thing even exist)—came as more of a shock. But that was hardly any excuse to allow him to do as he wished. "Let me go!"

Fayt drew up his strength and planted both feet on Albel's stomach. He spared a thought on how hard the muscles were before he kicked Albel over his head to crash onto the bed. With a trained body, Fayt prayed that he did not injure him too much. But he had little time to recover before he was once again pounced upon and pinned by a booted foot planted squarely in the middle of his back. In this position, Fayt knew that he was helpless. "You're not in your right mind, Albel! You don't want to—"

"I hate you."

The almost serpentine hiss cut through what would have been Fayt's attempts at reasoning with Albel. "I know you do, so why are you doing this?" But when reason proved insufficient, all he had was to maintain conversation and wait for an opportunity to get away. Even if Albel's words hurt like salt upon raw wounds.

But Albel was too far gone for words to reach him any longer. He slowly tore the shirt from the boy's rigid, uncooperating body and marveled at the pale skin, lightly scarred from past wounds that had healed without the help of symbology. It could not have elevated Albel's desire more had it been inmmaculately flaweless. Fayt was a warrior. Albel wouldn't be gnawed upon by such a burning want if he were any less.

But therein lay the problem. The boy just simply couldn't hate him—and in Albel's mind, you could never truly fight someone you couldn't hate. Then there is no purpose to hating someone who doesn't hate you in return. Who has no reason for you to hate him other than the fact that he wasn't yours.

That he belonged to someone else.

Crimson eyes hardened at the thought as the blond ape had proven his deepest insecurities correct. Albel stared down at the unmoving Fayt, who was as still as one playing dead, and he growled. His desire was consuming him, and when he noticed the blue-haired boy's lips start to form familiar words, he surrendered to the heat haze.

"Fire b—ah!" Fayt's quietly chanted spell was cut off as rough, chapped lips descended upon his own. He did not have time to think before a warm, prodding tongue invaded his mouth and ravished him unwillingly. He retaliated automatically against the unwelcome invasion by biting down upon the offending muscle. Sharp, coppery blood filled his mouth, but the apology died on his lips when he saw that the lust in Albel's eyes only multiplied tenfold at the violent gesture.

"You're not all bark and no bite after all, maggot." Albel's words slurred in his intoxication with the potion, the pain, and the overwhelming desire he felt. But as much as he wanted the fight, right now, he craved submission. This would also serve to make Fayt hate him and perhaps, this filthy lust may finally be a thing of the past. He spat a mouthful of blood to the side and began unraveling one of the cloths that bound his hair. "I will break you. Until you no longer know yourself without your tarnished body. Will you hate me then?"

"Stop it! You don't want to do this!" Fayt fumbled to cast another spell, but he was silenced as the swordsman gagged his mouth with the white cloth.

"And how much do you really know me? You can't even begin to put me in the same category as those fools as they analyze what makes me tick. I don't need anyone. I certainly don't love anyone. Wanting is enough. It is a mortal sin to envy and I am mortal after all." Albel unraveled the other side of his hair and tightly tied Fayt's wrists together with the white cloth. "But enough is enough. This very second, for as long as you are here, you are mine. And if I burn, you will burn with me."

Albel ripped his glove off with his teeth and splayed his good right hand on the expanse of skin before him, relishing in the cold. Blood pounded in Fayt's ears at the scalding touch and as he lost consciousness when Albel covered his body with his own, he heard a voice screaming.

It was his own.

----- -----

Pain lanced through the entirety of his body, from the numerous bite marks on his collar, burns on his wrists, and especially from his behind. Albel was merciless as he pounded into Fayt, growling and scratching at the boy's skin as if searching for a way to literally get under his skin. Fayt had not woken until Albel had already invaded his body, and from the darkness in the room, the swordsman had been desecrating his body for a long time.

Sex with Albel was the same as how he fought—passionate, unrelenting, and violent. But even in the haze of pain surrounding him, Fayt could tell that all the liquid that trickled down his bare legs was his own blood. "Uhrf…"

Albel stopped his forced entry into Fayt's body at the sound. He had been so relieved when the blue-haired boy had fallen unconscious so that there would be no witness to his crime. This rape. The testament to his weakness of mind and flawed character. But he should have known that heaven would not be so kind. He had started to think only of his own satisfaction and he was content to drown in the flames. But then, the potion left his system and his mind returned too late. Now, only the tearing guilt and his shattered pride remained.

"Are you awake, maggot?" He asked, but his voice cracked more than he would have liked. When Fayt did not answer, he pulled off the bloodied gag. Whether it was from his own blood, if Fayt had wounded his own mouth to escape the pain, or a combination of the two, he could not tell.

Fayt sighed in relief as the gag was removed. He knew he now had every reason to hate Albel. That he should blast him with Ethereal into oblivion—it would spare Albel than if Luther was to catch wind of this. He could put him out of his misery and no one would be the wiser. But even now, still connected to the Elicoorian in the ultimate form of rape, he only felt a warmth unfamiliar to him. "I'm awake, Albel."

If Albel was actually expecting Fayt to reply, he did not show it as he resumed his thrusting. But the boy's return to wakefulness had jarred his façade, and his movements were half-hearted. "So, do you hate me yet? You fool. I know that you could escape anytime you want to! You're Destruction itself, so why don't you kill me!?" Albel's voice grew in volume as his movement grew frenzied.

Fayt gave a sharp yelp of pain as Albel fucked him into the floor, bruises formed in places he wasn't aware he had. This was not how he ever imagined his first time to be, but he never really imagined attaching himself to someone exclusively in his lifetime. "Ah… are you sa-satisfied yet, Albel?"

"I'm fucking you against your will and that's all you can say?" snarled Albel as he gave a particularly vicious snap of his hips. He shifted his hands to hold on to Fayt's shoulders in order to pull him back harder against him. To hurt him more—even though he no longer felt any pleasure in what he did. "Or do you really like pain that much?"

"I don't hate you, you know. I have what you're dong, but I don't hate you."

Albel failed to stifle a cry as he pushed himself away from Fayt, still hard by nowhere near completion. He had expected Fayt to scream and fight, but the boy treated the rape with as much indifference as a corpse. It did not satisfy him in the least. In fact, the whole act just made bile rise to his throat. He sickened himself. "Why can't you just hate me?"

"Why are you so insistent upon it?" Fayt's green eyes widened and his heart beat faster. He had never heard the Elicoorian swordsman sound so irreparably broken. He was the victim yet he could not feel contempt for his assailant. All he could feel was stark understanding. "Albel, are you in love with me?"

Albel's features twisted in his fury and he slammed his fist on a dresser, breaking it into pieces and spilling its contents all over the floor. "Bah, don't be ridiculous." But he did not meet Fayt's eyes. "I told you before. I don't need anyone. I don't love anyone. Least of all, you!"

For the first time since the whole ordeal, Fayt smiled faintly. "What do you know, neither do I. And you don't know me as well as you think either."

"You belong to that 4D maggot."

"I don't belong to anyone!" snapped Fayt in annoyance that everyone would think that he belonged to Luther. "No one controls my thoughts just as no one can control yours. But right now, as you wish to think it, I belong to you." If only in your own mind.

Try as he might, Albel could not completely suppress the thread of pleasure that wrapped around his heart at Fayt's assertion. "You're joking."

"You said so yourself. Or is your memory so bad that you don't remember. "

Albel growled and spun Fayt around until he was on his back, ignoring the hiss of pain as Fayt's ravaged behind roughly landed on the cold floor. "It would be a foolish thing to mock me, you worm."

"I never said I was, you idiot!" yelled Fayt in return, disbelieving of Albel's hard-headedness. "I'm not even angry at you and I have every reason to be!"

Albel had been at the receiving end of numerous insults in his life, but this was the first time anyone called him an idiot. And for once, he did not know what to say. "Why?"

Fayt sighed, unsure of hat to make of the genuine surprise on Albel's face. "People are always so narrow-minded that they miss the big picture. They always say that they need something or feel lonely when in truth, they are surrounded by people. But you and I can never be lonely because we have always been alone—just like all who can only destroy."

"Don't make me laugh." But the acidic tone was fleeting.

"Those who walk the path of Destruction don't have needs. Only wants that can seldom be fulfilled," whispered Fayt. "We cannot hurt each other, but we may be destined to destroy each other in the end."

No one could have phrased more romantic words in Albel's ears. He may be denied everything, but having Fayt's end be at his own hands was enough. This time, the kiss he and Fayt shared made desire and pleasure flame up inside him. The slow, unhurried slide of their tongues and the slightly acrid taste of lingering blood that flavored the kiss drove Albel out of his wits in the want for more. It felt different as he barely contained a moan when Fayt gave his own tongue an erotically gentle lick as if apologizing for the savage bite earlier.

He quickly broke the kiss and buried his nose in the junction of Fayt's neck and shoulder, eliciting a shudder from his former victim. Even without seeing, he could feel the raised welts and teeth marks where he had mindlessly asserted his territory in a fit of raging confusion. He slowly massaged the abused skin with his tongue, comforting but firm in the existence of the marks of ownership. He smirked when he felt Fayt tremble from the attention, but his amusement only heightened when he realized what his marks on Fayt would prove to Luther and the Klausian worm.

"Albel…" whispered Fayt as he tried to regain his composure from the unfamiliar jolts of pleasure that coursed through his body. Even the rope burn on his wrists paled in comparison to the ungodly things Albel was doing with his tongue.

Raven locks hid Albel's crimson eyes, but his wide grin was visible even in the darkness. "Tell me, Fayt." He savored the sound of the name like a fine, old wine. "Do you want me to say those three little words to you?" He then wrapped a hand firmly around Fayt's growing hardness, drawing a hiss of mixed pleasure and indignation that set his nerves tingling.

Fayt struggled to scowl when the hand began to move up and down. "I can live without. And untie me!"

"Oh, but you said that you wanted my answer," said Albel as his hand sped up. He was thoroughly enjoying this game.

"I don't—"

"I love you." Albel snapped his hips forward into Fayt's tight heat, still slick from earlier. "But I don't do apologies."

Fayt burned from the whispered words—whether lies or not—and nearly arched off the bed when Albel once again slammed into him without warning. But instead of the excruciating pain, this union felt significantly different. "Liar…"

"Perhaps. But you're much too coherent for someone with a cock up your ass and a hand on your dick. Let's see if I can remedy that, my little maggot."

"I said untie me first!"

Albel smirked as he jabbed against a spot that had Fayt writhing. "Dream on, fool, dream on."

----- -----

"A mortal's life is so brief that I wonder if they are worth living at all, but perhaps I am beginning to understand," said Luther as Dion nestled on his lap and gently batted at the white flower.

"It's all about intensity. Like how a fire burns brightest when it's ready to go out. We can appreciate our short lives and dream bigger, hate stronger, and love more passionately than if we had all the time in the world."

Luther bowed his head. "Then I'm condemned to this fate? To be alone forever?"

"Don't be so melodramatic. You created us and we all look up to you. Our lives are but a second of your time. That's what Fayt's been trying to tell you."

"Was he?" whispered Luther.

"It's okay to yearn and be imperfect. Just don't dwell on it. You have people who depend on you, after all."

"… Thank you, Cliff Fittir."

From behind the tree, hidden in the darkness, Cliff grinned and began his trek back to the castle. And then Luther was alone.

"Albel Nox, he may exist for everyone, but you exist for him. And if you ever forget, his memory of you will be the first thing I destroy."

Dion looked up at Luther. His eyes glowed impatiently in the night. "Meow."

"Then let the three of us go home."

Before the rays of the sun could pierce through the horizon, the god, the cat, and the white flower were gone like they were never there.

And within the castle, crimson and emerald eyes stared into each other in defiance of the light before closing in the reassurance that no words need be said. Their continued existence was enough.

----- -----

Kagerou – End

----- -----

Author's Notes

- Star Ocean: Till the End of Time doesn't belong to me.

- Uhm… er… -runs away- Oh, and the "Tears" that Cliff mentioned are the "Tears of Aphrodite." It normally lowers the relationship value, but let's just say that it does... other... things to Albel. XD

- Any of my readers on Solia Online? Just wondering. :)