Kat (auragirl) wrote in fugusan_library,

FANFIC: Mellow Yellow

EDIT: Ack! Paragraphing X_X;

Title: Mellow Yellow
Author: Katalin Bakonyi
Series: CLAMP School Detectives
Genre: Un...I think it depends on how you read this. It can be either gen, romance, or angst. Or it can be all of the above.
Pairing: None *really*, but I think it leads up to Nokoru x Suoh
Warnings: Shounen ai, I suppose. Um..don't read it if the idea of eternal devotion and endless fealty disturb you? ;)
Rating: G
Archive in Memories: Yes please!
Quick Summary: Okay, when I write fanfic, they tend to be s hort snipetts. Generally, I do character studies.
In this case, it's Suoh reflecting on Nokoru. For setting, Nokoru is sixteen and Suoh is fifteen, and they're in Nokoru's home overnight. Suoh is starting to guard Nokoru around the clock, and this is his first time sleeping in the same room as the other boy. He reflects. ^_^
...and t he title is really truely just something random that I picked in order to name the file something when I saved it ^_^;
Feedback Level: 3

Yellow was such an obnoxious color, Suoh thought. He continued to try and ease his breathing, to force his body to slowly relax and drift into a sleep which he knew he needed. Closing his eyes, seeking darkness in the silent bedroom, he was only greeted by visions of golden hair, sparkling blue eyes and a cheerfully laughing face. He shivered lightly, opening his eyes again, staring up at the ceiling, his eyes following the minute movements of the shadows.

How could a thing as simple as a color distract him so thoroughly? And such an obnoxious, jarring color as well…too bright and it meant emergency, caution, like a street sign. Too dark with too much red and it could mean caution, wet floor. A completely undignified color.
But…then there was that shade that was just right, golden brilliance that even flowers couldn’t compete with, the color speaking of a texture softer than said flower petals…feathery and light, easily tousled by the wind but somehow always impeccably kept under control…

Suoh frowned, bringing his hands up to his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands over his closed eyelids, trying to force the thoughts, the visions, the imaginings from his subconscious.
It felt as if it would be impossible to fall asleep here. He could hear Nokoru’s soft breathing from across the room, the steady beating of his heart muffled by layers of blankets. He could also smell him, like vanilla and caramel, thick in the room, his room…but also coming directly from the other boy, tantalizingly close and yet still too far away.

He felt himself climbing out of bed, then, his feet taking him across the distance between his futon and Nokoru’s massive bed without really thinking about it. Moving silently, he knew that he wouldn’t be caught – couldn’t be caught, unless Nokoru woke up of his own volition. He wouldn’t disturb him, even if he stood...right…here.

Silently he gazed down at the other boy, his eyes taking in every detail of that peaceful, calm face. Seeing the slight melancholy in his face, indicated by the faint lines around the edges of his eyes, at the corner of his mouth. It was dark in the room, but not too dark for Suoh to see…but still, the moonlight muted the colors of the other boy. The gold was as bright and vibrant as ever in his mind’s eye, however. He knew that color as intimately as he knew his own body, and he knew his body well. Knew it’s limits, knew it’s abilities, knew just how far he could push it before collapse…It was a tool, after all, a tool he had forged himself into, carefully, painstakingly, a weapon, a shield, a means to an end…something that would protect another…protect his one. Nokoru.</p>

Gently he reached down, and slowly ran his fingertips across the soft hair, his attitude one of a man stroking a sleeping cobra. Don’t wake up he insisted silently…his fingertips brushing against feathery warmth, so close that he could feel the subtle heat from the other boy’s skin, but just far enough so that the other boy couldn’t feel the almost-contact.

He continued to stand there for a long while, touching but not quite touching, fighting off the urge to touch more, to be closer, that gnawed at his insides day and night, but especially at night when the only sound, smell, feeling that was around was Nokoru. The Imonoyama house was so quiet at night, and so big that every family member had their own section of house to call their own. You must have been so lonely.

It was embarrassing, really, that a color should affect him so deeply. He was a Takamura ninja! A creature of darkness and stealth, a stoic warrior…and yet, whenever he saw just this shade of yellow, he felt something within himself grow warm. An unidentifiable sensation, an ache, a want that had no definite boundaries and no clear solution. It was ridiculous, is what it was, that he should find his concentration broken by a passing sports car or a flower or even some woman’s dress. A flash of gold was all it took, but thankfully he’d learned to control himself and stop gawking every time he saw the color.

He gazed at Nokoru’s sleeping face for a few moments more, before quietly returning to his own bed. The nature of desire was selfish and dangerous, he knew. He knew, and yet he couldn’t help himself – an indication of just how dangerous it was. A ninja always had self control, always knew his own mind, his own body, and never made mistakes, as mistakes tended to make him a dead ninja.

How could men want something this much? How could he? Was it simply his own deficiency, or did others feel their own desires this strongly as well? Suoh closed his eyes once more, breathing deeply – trying to at least enter a meditative state what would give him some measure of rest. How could one desire something so much that life itself seemed inconsequential in the face of that thing? Sleep…eating…breathing…even blinking and missing the sight of that gold even if only for an instant…sometimes felt as if they were intolerable distractions, obstacles between him and his desire. A desire that he still couldn’t understand. He didn’t know what he wanted, there wasn’t a single thing, an action, a behavior, or even a feeling he could identify. It was just an endless yearning that never ceased and never abated and never named itself.</p>

He supposed that was what it was like, to love something enough to die for it, joyfully and without regret except that you could only die once for that thing, that person.
That was what it was to give yourself to that person.

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