http://clampfix.fanworks.net/others/bluebird3.txt </head><body><pre>Warnings: Mild profanity, shounen ai/yaoi. Lemon content in part 4. Spoilers for Clover 3-4. All characters are copyright CLAMP and Kodansha. This is a fanwork written for entertainment purposes only. Comments to kolson00@yahoo.com, please! * * * * * * Bluebird Part 3 * * * * * * Later that night, rain began to fall. In the bedroom of an apartment halfway across the city, two people did not notice. "Oh, I almost forgot." Kazuhiko's voice stretched and rumbled in a very sleepy yawn. "Hmm?" It was long after dinner. They were lounging in Oruha's vast, canopied bed, reclining above the covers--or Kazuhiko was reclining, and Oruha was playing pillow. She glanced down at her lover, whose head rested cozily in her silk-clad lap. Kazuhiko took a long drag on his cigarette before continuing. "We're invited to Gingetsu's place for drinks. This weekend. On your night off." Oruha's lashes fluttered like hummingbirds' wings as she blinked. "That handsome lieutenant colonel of yours? Well, then, naturally I accept." She smiled sweetly into Kazuhiko's glower, then tapped one fingertip against his lips until the frown reversed itself. "At his house?" "Yeah, and you'll get to meet his little housewife." "Ah, the mysterious one who never so much as sets foot outside?" This was a new frontier, indeed. Oruha wondered whose idea the invitation had been. "Really?" "Yeah. I think that might be the point of the whole deal." "Then I'll be looking forward to it." The prospect was surprisingly pleasant. Part of her was tempted to spend these last days only with Kazuhiko, to lock the two of them up in a secret bower and swallow the key--and to tell the truth, perhaps she had been doing a bit of that--but to finally get a glimpse of who turned the gears of that tall, blond mechanoid--intriguing, intriguing. Her fingers danced a little waltz through Kazuhiko's hair. "We should bring a present," she said. "What shall we bring?" "Uh. Hm." She smiled fondly at his discomfiture. Kazuhiko was bad at gifts. He'd even come right out and asked what she wanted for her birthday. She knew what she'd be getting on that day, at least. "Well...Ran likes tea." The unfamiliar name piqued her ear like the ring of a chime. "Oh, is that his name? You never did tell me." "What?" "You never did. It's always 'the kid' or 'the freeloader,' or other things even less endearing." Kazuhiko finished off his cigarette and reached toward the nightstand to stab it out in the ashtray. "I just tell it like I see it, ma'am." Oruha tilted her head to one side. Speaking of secret bowers.... "He really just sits at home all day, and doesn't do any kind of work?" "I suppose he does tech work for the Secret Colors every now and then, on a kind of informal basis." Kazuhiko sounded vaguely surprised, as though he had never before considered the fact. Then he held up a finger and waggled it at her. "That's all classified, of course." She pursed her lips. "More and more mysterious!" "As for what he does on the night shift," Kazuhiko muttered, "I'm not gonna go anywhere near that." Oruha laughed, a long, pearly peal, thinking that she wouldn't mind going near it, not at all. Near enough to watch, anyway. But it wouldn't do to let Kazuhiko in on that little yen--he'd only be scandalized. "Darling, we can't bring tea and nothing else." Kazuhiko shifted his head to settle more comfortably against her. "So bring tea and a bottle of scotch, and everybody'll be happy," he said, eyelids drooping shut. "Happiness is that easy, is it?" His eyes were closed--he could not see her face, and she was glad of it. "It is in my world." She cupped his face in her palms and caressed it. "I like your world, Kazuhiko." "Me, too." So smug. She loved his smugness. She wished it could last forever. Or not even forever, she thought, just a little longer...just a little. Whether she wished it or not, a little was all they had. She locked away that thought and swallowed the key. "So what will it be like?" she mused. "Does the Frozen Colonel defrost in the presence of his better half? If he does, you must prepare me for the shock of it." "Gingetsu?" A small crease appeared on Kazuhiko's brow, and she saw that he was considering the question seriously. "He doesn't really thaw out. But...you know how he hardly talks." "Yes, I noticed." "Right. When Ran's in the room, he talks even less. Because he's busy watching Ran." "Hmm. The good shepherd watching over his little lamb?" For an instant her smile curved like a fang. "Or the big, bad wolf?" Kazuhiko tipped his head back and opened his eyes only to narrow them. "A shepherd," he said at last, "with a furry tail." Oruha giggled at that image, then lowered her lashes dangerously. Her hand slid downward to tilt Kazuhiko's chin. "And what sort of beast am I the captive of?" Her lover smiled up at her. "Come a little closer," he murmured, "and you'll find out." * * * Outside it was still raining, though Gingetsu had ceased listening to the subtle patter against the windowpanes back on page fourteen. Lost in the maze of his report, he almost didn't hear the soft offer that slipped from the shadows across the room. "You want anything?" Glancing up, he had to blink to refocus his eyes, but the headache that had been courting him abruptly vanished. Ran was leaning in through the doorway to the hall, evidently on his way to the kitchen. Lamplight winked off the line of buttons that dotted the front of the boy's pajama top--was it the blue or the gray one? Impossible to tell from here. Definitely not the striped one. He looked best in the gray set, with the silvery fabric echoing the color of his eyes, and the deep v-neck baring smooth, pale skin.... Gingetsu examined the trajectory of his thoughts with a degree of discomfort, and recalled that he had been asked a question. "I was going to make decaf," Ran continued, "but if you need something to keep you awake...." "Tea?" "Or coffee, if you'd rather--" "Tea." Ran's lips tilted in the wry but pleased smile of one who knows his tastes are being humored. "Okay." He disappeared into the hall, and Gingetsu glanced at the time readout at the edge of his visor. The earliness of the hour startled him--he'd thought it past midnight. No wonder Ran was still up and marauding. Gingetsu lowered his gaze to the screen in front of him and frowned. Marauding was scarcely apt, considering that he'd hardly caught a glimpse of his housemate all night. By all rights he should be grateful--it was thoughtful of the boy to keep out of his way when he was working--but he wondered if anything might convince Ran that there was no need to be quite so scrupulous. A few moments later the scrupulous one returned with two teacups, pausing by the birdcage to check on the somnolent cockatiel. He was wearing the blue set of pajamas, Gingetsu noted. Really, they were still too big--the shirt's sleeves were so long that they nearly covered up Ran's hands altogether, and the pants were even worse--but he'd figured the boy would grow into them soon enough. More than soon enough. Sitting down carefully at his side, Ran passed one of the cups to him. "It's hot," he said. With a murmured thank you, Gingetsu leaned back to drink. "You were up really late, weren't you? Last night." Ran was shifting, pulling his feet up to perch gingerly on the edge of the couch, as though he were not quite sure it was safe to sit there. He sipped at his tea, resting the cup on one knee. "You must be tired." Gingetsu frowned. "Then you were up late, too." "I had a bad dream," Ran murmured. "It woke me up." A nightmare? Gingetsu waited, wondering if elaboration would follow. But Ran only slumped a little, and then asked diffidently, "I know you're busy, but do you mind if I sit here? Just for a little while." Gingetsu looked down at Ran, who looked down at his teacup. "I don't mind," he said. "Do as you like." A faint smile. "Okay." They drank their tea. A little later, Gingetsu remembered the thing he'd meant to ask about, and spoke. "I went to the bird market today," he said. His housemate stared up at him as though he'd sprouted feathers himself. "The bird market?" He nodded. Ran blinked with the confusion of a boy who, in the midst of putting together one puzzle, suddenly comes across a piece from an entirely different one. Gingetsu watched his gaze flicker to the occupant of the cage sitting across the table, then drop with shy understanding. "Oh. But you didn't...." "I thought you might change your mind." Ran's eyes lifted. "About a real one." For a moment the boy clutched at his cup in silence, cradling it like an egg that might at any second hatch into something frightful. "It'll only be trouble," he whispered, staring downward. "I told you, I don't want to cause you any...any more trouble that I already have." That fear again. Gingetsu turned toward the boy, frowning at himself. If he had sown the seed of this dread, it was time to uproot it. "Anything would be worth the trouble," he said, low-voiced, "if you wanted it." Ran went perfectly still. Then slowly, slowly, the heart-shaped face lifted. The gray eyes shone wide and stark as the moon. "Do you mean that?" "I don't say things I don't mean." Ran leaned forward, still holding desperately to his gaze. Behind his visor, Gingetsu blinked. Whatever had prompted the inquiry, it seemed that it was a serious one, so he added, as gently as he could, "I mean it." The teacup did not even clink on the table. It was not until Gingetsu felt one small hand come to rest on the front of his jacket, just to the right of his heart, that he understood Ran was not talking about the idea of a bird anymore. Gazing into the pale face fringed with dark hair, and all that brimmed in the gray eyes, he knew that this was his last chance to preserve the precarious balance that had protected them both thus far. Even if it hurt, even if it made him a liar, to push Ran away from him would be the best thing to do. He was almost certain of that. But he had steeled himself against assault from within, not from without. Not like this. Fingers curled around his jacket collar. He made no move, and no sound. For the first time he felt Ran's lips, just barely parted, against his. There was a puff of quick breath, the lightest of pressures, and then retreat. On his lap, the computer screen blanked. Gingetsu watched Ran's eyelids flutter open, watched him shrink and shiver under what must have been an icy glaze of fear. Before that terror could frost and crack, he very deliberately set down his teacup. Ran observed this, looking ready to either pass out or bolt. The computer went the way of the cup, as Gingetsu laid it on the table to play its screensaver merrily all night. Then he reached to half-coax, half-pull that tangle of arms and legs, hope and trepidation into his lap. There was a moment of awkwardness as the boy flushed and fumbled to settle himself, but when Ran raised his eyes again it was as if everything softened: the night air, the slender limbs, the little space left between them. Tautness bloomed into tenderness. Ran placed another hand by the first one, clutched at the cloth of his jacket, fingering it. His thumb traced the line of Gingetsu's lapel over and over. Gingetsu kept his own hands where they were, resting just above Ran's hips, careful in the awareness that he was holding something fragile, something that might break if he were not cautious. At last Ran drew a breath. "All those times...all those nights when you used to stand outside my room, when you didn't come in...it wasn't that you didn't want to, was it?" "No," Gingetsu agreed. He felt the deep inhalation, felt, through cotton fabric, the heat of the boy's skin. "So you weren't asleep." Ran ducked his head. "I couldn't see you. But I can feel you," he said, then looked back up. "Especially if you're close." Of course. A Three-Leaf could sense the presence of a Two-Leaf, always. "Sometimes I probably was asleep, though. Because, you know, whatever you were doing, lurking out there, I always felt safe." Safe? Gingetsu thought. There was nothing safe about this at all. One of his hands released Ran's waist to drift upward and finger its way into the soft, mussy hair. "Not scared?" he asked, very low. "No." Ran's eyes slid sideways, as though to watch the motions of the hand that caressed him. Gingetsu felt a long, slow exhalation against his wrist, and then the whisper, "Will you teach me? What to do." Desire like a blow to the gut. It knocked the wind out of him, and he had to labor to breathe. Somehow that plain and unashamed plea, even more than the bemusing fact of Ran straddling his legs, urged him to consider that perhaps it was not wrong to accept what was freely offered. And that seduction was most irresistible when it was guileless. Idly he wondered what would happen if he told the boy to do as he liked one more time. Probably Ran would not hit him, however much he deserved it. Instead, he merely murmured acquiescence, and let his fingers drift down out of the cloud of dark hair. He traced around the curl of one earlobe--that earned a shudder--and followed the line of Ran's jaw toward his mouth. Eyes almost closed, Ran tilted his chin. Lightly Gingetsu slid his thumb, then his index finger over Ran's lips, to nudge them apart. "Open your mouth," he murmured. Ran obeyed him. Letting his fingers fall, Gingetsu leaned in. Their lips met again in a wisp of shared breath, and as he slipped his tongue a little into that parting, he felt the boy quiver under his hands. For only a moment Ran hesitated, then opened further, leaning into the kiss, folding his arms to nestle fully against Gingetsu's chest. Gingetsu slid deeper, tasting tea and milk--or was that only his imagination? Either way, it was sweet. He shifted slightly, leaning back into the sofa cushion to support Ran's weight against him more comfortably, as he might have held a drowsy child--but no, that was not the sort of thought to be thinking now, with this creature of indefinite but definitely adolescent age tugging at his shirt and pressing pliantly against him. Then Ran whimpered into his mouth, and he drew back, doused with contrition. Maybe this was too soon or too much trespass, after all. Eyes heavy-lidded, lips slick from the kiss, Ran met his gaze. "Can I take it off?" There were many possible interpretations of that question, all of them interesting. "Take what off?" The deathgrip on his jacket vanished, and he felt hands at his temples, gingerly fingering the nodes at each ear where visor joined to skin. "This thing." Surprise faded in Gingetsu almost as quickly as it flared. He had forgotten about the visor, as he always did. It had become as much a part of him as his own limbs and senses. But to Ran it must appear as a barrier between them, another wall to be scaled. When the boy had spent so much of himself to reach this place, where they could open to each other, another wall must seem intolerable. He nodded, and let go of Ran to reach upward. The small hands stopped him. "I can do it." A bit surprised at the intensity in Ran's gaze, Gingetsu nodded again, and held very still. The fingers at the nodes were knowing and quick. He gazed at Ran's face, at the tiny crease in his brow, the thinning of those lips he had kissed. All of those he memorized, as best he could, before the flash of heat came, and the ever-present screen before his eyes went dark. Another flash, sharper than the first, but not quite painful, and the darkness became total. He felt something being unhitched and lifted away. Only when his lungs deflated did he discover that he'd been holding his breath. "Okay." Ran's voice was the same, but it sounded different now; it seemed to vibrate straight into his skull. Gingetsu lifted his head a little, turning from side to side. Air prickled distinctly against bare skin usually covered. The darkness remained. There was no pain, only a strange sense of nakedness, and maybe a kind of freedom. Then Ran stiffened. "Gingetsu...." Suddenly the boy was hushed and frozen. "Can you see?" At one time he had been able to, some--blurs of light and dark through a gray haze--but that had been long ago. Apparently time and reliance on the visor had caused further deterioration. No doubt the Clover Leaf Project scientists had predicted that. Perhaps they'd planned it. "No," he said. A catch of breath. "Nothing?" "Nothing." His own voice was strange, as well. He had not thought it would sound so unconcerned. A little silence then. Suddenly, shockingly, warm palms curved around his face. Gingetsu closed his eyelids and felt Ran's fingers brush over them, touching his lashes with a lightness that felt like reverence. "I'm sorry." A quiver in the soft voice, an ache as though for something lost before it could even be grasped. Gingetsu frowned, understanding no reason for apology. "I thought--I thought it was just like Kazuhiko's--I never looked close enough to tell." The touches stopped, and he wanted to protest. But Ran was shifting, hurriedly reaching to the side of the couch, where he must have set the visor. "Here, I'll--" "Don't." He gripped blindly, found the boy's shoulders, and pulled him so close that Ran squeaked. Silk-spun, sweet-scented hair--he buried his face in it and breathed as though he had been drowning, as though he had not breathed in years. For so long he'd been sure that keeping apart was safe. Now it was distance that seemed too perilous to contemplate. "Hush." Ran heeded, although Gingetsu found that his own heartbeat did not. Gradually the boy relaxed, then sagged against him. "You never do tell me anything," he mumbled, only halfway audibly. It was no use contesting that guilt, so Gingetsu merely tightened his grip. "You know, I always thought they'd be blue." The idle surprise in Ran's voice made him wonder exactly how much time the boy had spent theorizing about his eye color, and he let out a huff of breath. Then Ran was shifting his his arms, twisting around as though to look at something on the table. "Did you need to finish that tonight?" "Finish what?" "That report." "What report?" "Your...oh." Ran paused. Then, very quietly, "Really?" "Do you want to go to bed by yourself?" "No! I mean...no. But I can wait...." A fine offer to make while sitting on somebody's lap, Gingetsu thought. Maybe Ran needed to be reminded of his current position. He slid his hands downward, over the arch in Ran's back, and kept following the curves below it until he heard a sharp inhalation against his neck. "No," Gingetsu said. "We've done enough of that." There was a sigh of agreement at his lips, like an offering, so he took it, and found that kissing was even better in the dark. Tea and milk--he hadn't imagined that, after all--melted on his tongue. He swallowed the taste of the boy, and a red thread of need lanced straight down through his midriff. Ran's hips shifted forward, pushing more of his weight into Gingetsu, but still he wasn't heavy enough to be a burden. He could never be that. Only knowing what lay waiting for them in the end...only that was a burden. So they would carry it. When Ran drew back in a little while, breath coming quick, Gingetsu had made up his mind. "Sit up," he instructed. "Put your arms around my neck." Ran obeyed without hesitation. Gingetsu slid one arm just below the slender shoulderblades, and the other behind the boy's half-bent knees. "Hold on," he said, and stood up. Ran yelped. He clutched, flailed as Gingetsu took one step, then clutched again. "But you can't see!" "So tell me if we're going to hit the wall." He took another step sideways, until he was sure they were well beyond the edge of the coffee table. There he paused, giving Ran a minute to think about it. Sure enough, Ran settled into his arms as though he'd been born there. "Um...go straight." * * *</pre><p><a href="./">Back</a></p><p><a href=http://www.dreamhost.com/donate.cgi?id=216><img border=0 alt="Donate towards our web hosting bill!" src=https://secure.newdream.net/donate1.gif></a></p></body></html>