|| #2041 Citrus Avenue ||

because the authors need to know~

Mon, 13 Mar 2006 12:58:39 GMT

This isn't a paid account, so boo to not being able to create polls. ._.

In light of Black Market Music's (soft-edited) release, we've got a bit of a dillemma as to what we should focus writing on next. There are several ones on the listing, but we need to know what you as the readers would prefer to see. So, if you love us, comment to this post with your answers to the following questions:

1. Do you want to read the back stories of characters before the main events in Citrus Avenue (like Black Market Music), or do you want to see more for character threads from the main story (like Deja Entendu and Lullabies to Paralyze)? If you want to see more character threads for the main story, do you want us to continue with the pairings that already have installments done or do you want us to move on to another pair?

2. What specific pairings, characters or groups would you like to read about? (Refer to the character list and the, uh, fairly updated story listing, if you need to. Do NOT answer ALL! >_>)

3. Do you want to see yaoi, yuri, or straight stuff? Does it make any real difference? O_O

4. Are you guys curious about the music we're using in Citrus Avenue? Do you want us to upload them somewhere?

5. Do you love us enough to do icons or fan art for Citrus Avenue? X3

For the purposes of this survey, here are the projects at hand.

And You Think You Know What Life's About [Llyr x Ares, pre-Citrus] (1%)

The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club [Natalia & Ires, pre-Citrus] (1%)

Boy with the Arab Strap [Lorenzo & Naiara, first installment] (1%)

Demon Days [Alistair, Mikhail & Hikaru, second installment] (25%)

Either/Or [Hiroshi x Yukio, first installment] (1%)

From the Choirgirl Hotel [Neeka x Emir, pre-Citrus] (1%)

Galore [Takeo x Ritsu, first installment] (5%)

Guero [Aidan x Rethe, second installment] (23%)

Hail to the Thief [Mitsuoumi, Tohru & Ouki, pre-Citrus] (1%)

Strange & Beautiful [Maes x Nikolai, first installment] (18%)

Take Offs & Landings [Mafuyu x Yue, first installment] (3%)

What Ever and Amen [Aidan, Calintz, Rilea, Alistair; pre-citrus] (1%)

Yes, these percentages are actually mathematically correct. XD

black market music [soft edit]

Mon, 06 Mar 2006 05:20:02 GMT

Greatly delayed with this, as usual. ~__~ Ateneo has swallowed up ezraelandvari and I, so this is particular copy of Black Market Music is only a soft edit, courtesy of my poor eyes and yukitsu's patience. *much love to everyone's favorite uke*

For those of you who didn't know yet, Black Market Music is a part of the Memory Lane series of Citrus Avenue, which is a backtrack to all the important stuff that happens before the main story begins. This particular piece revolves around Hiroshi Fukazawa and Hikaru Shinta in high school. Expect gratitious amounts of boy loving and cameo appearances from equally loved characters in the series.

This is not free love. This is friendship.

Enjoy~~ :3

nope, we didn't forget the important details.

Wed, 01 Mar 2006 06:09:35 GMT

...Ahahahaha. This is WAY overdue. >_< You can blame the delay on school, LJ problems (Alistair refuses to log into any other account beyond my main one, and Firefox doesn't even want to acknowledge the login page @_@) and a number of other things. o_o

Anyway, now that we're (sort of) back on track, here's the character list for Citrus Avenue... some of the characters may already be familiar to you, but most of them are completely new, I'm sure. This is guaranteed to be spoiler-free, pretty much. >3

Meet the residents of Citrus Avenue.

On further news, here's the list of the projects ezraelandvari and I are working on, in the midst of political turmoil and academic woe:

Black Market Music (Hiroshi x Hikaru; prequel; 60% done)

Demon Days (Alistair, Mikhail, Hikaru; second installment; 15% done)

Guero (Aidan x Rethe; second installment; 15% done)

Strange & Beautiful (Maes x Nikolai; first installment; 10% done)

If all goes well (and no other deadlines pop up), there just might be something new up here in the next three weeks. @_@

the closest thing [takeo x ritsu]

Fri, 27 Jan 2006 10:57:01 GMT

Just a little drabble brought on by no NikolaiLappie and ~~mush~~soundtripping. ^^; Set way before the Citrus Avenue timeline--sometime during first or second year high school for our boys (around the same time as Black Market Music). I'm still working on Auf Achse so sit tight, and enjoy this little bit of fluff, my dearies. ♥

Song: "The Closest Thing" from Juliana Theory.

Then again, one could never be too sure, or too careful.

Note: PDF. Open or save as you will.

major overhaul~~

Sun, 22 Jan 2006 09:40:21 GMT

*phew*

Just popped in to inform y'all that everything is up for grabs, including the music... about the only thing missing is the character list, but I can promise the lot of you that it'll be available on the main listing within the next 2 days... it might even be around tonight, if I'm lucky. >3

Credit and love goes out to verjill, for without her I would not have a host to speak of for the music. You should all go and worship her now~ <3

*pimps the layout again*

heaven beside you [alistair x aidan, pg-13]

Sun, 22 Jan 2006 06:12:13 GMT

Since ezraelandvari and I are still working the kinks out of Low Place Like Home, here's a bit to appease all of our curious fans after the ambiguities mentioned in Deja Entendu. Enjoy, my pretties~~ I can make a PDF version of this available for download by request. >3

NOTE: This is supposed to be a sort of teaser into Low Place Like Home, which is still being written. Don't expect it to be too long. You know I'm not nice that way. :D

Song: "Heaven Beside You" from Alice in Chains.

Heaven Beside You.
Like the coldest winter chill: Heaven beside you, Hell within.

Alistair knew Aidan was irritated the moment the boy came home. It was in the slam of the door, the worldly toss of jacket, guns and keys to the couch, the curve of those shoulders moving in tune with hands pulling off muddy combat boots, slender and rigid as glass.

“You’re up.”

Alistair chose not to honor the boy with a response, instead rolling over and shutting his eyes; the pillows and sheets were warm from the sunlight but at least they were soft. Some more rustling and then Aidan was disappearing into the bathroom. He left the door open. The shower came on. The Seer listened to it for a moment longer before speaking.

“Ganymede has our payment for the last job. We’ve got six hours to pick it up before she gives it to charity.”

He received no response but the sound of water hitting body and tiles. Alistair traded the bed for the bathroom, coming in to the sight of Aidan naked in the stall, back to him as he rinsed the shampoo off his hair. The glass stall door wasn’t completely shut. This the Seer pushed out of his way once he had stripped. Aidan made a small, annoyed sound the moment Alistair’s arms looped loosely around him. “Never a private moment here, is there?” the boy muttered, reaching for the soap. Alistair got a hold of it before he could.

“Showering together saves water.”

“Hn. That’s a new one on me. Did Maes teach you that?”

Alistair didn’t answer. He scrubbed the boy’s back, and kissed his neck as he did so. Aidan drew in a sharp breath. He did not relax beneath the other’s touch. The Seer pretended not to notice and turned Aidan about in his arms to continue washing his ward’s skin. The boy avoided his gaze, choosing to pour some shampoo into his hands, lather it, and then run his fingers through Alistair’s hair.

“You suck at taking care of yourself.”

“That makes for the two of us.”

When they spoke to each other their lips were close enough to meet but that small space remained, even as their skin touched and their breath mixed together. Alistair ignored it. Aidan was a different case. This, of course, amused the Seer to no end.

“I thought you wanted space.”

And there it was again, that delightful irritation; those jade green eyes were full of it as they glared at him through the haze of heat and moisture around them. Alistair savored it, along with the taste of his ward’s lips. It was only too easy to lead the boy around at times.

“D… don’t.”

Aidan finally managed to stop Alistair once he was against the wall, with the man’s hand cupping his length and those gray eyes drilling right through his own. The Seer obliged him more out of amusement rather than anything else, letting Aidan push him away. He moved on to scrub himself, unperturbed, as the boy caught his breath.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

The boy still wouldn’t look at him. There wasn’t any anger anymore, and for a moment, Alistair almost thought the kid looked sad. Aidan stepped past him and left the shower stall first, and the Seer made no move to stop him. He could already hear Maes scolding him in his head. He made it a point to finish his shower and think no more on it.

***

Aidan Clayce had entered the service of the Yamada family at twelve, when he had caught Ouki Yamada’s eye during one of the local Court’s slave auctions. He came into Alistair’s life quite literally kicking and screaming; the Seer had been asked by his leader to bring the boy back to his apartment after the auction, and every step of the way had been an ordeal even with the aid of all the drugs that the ring masters had pumped into the boy’s system. To this day, Alistair could still point out exactly where Aidan had bit or clawed at him.

The ordeal had ended rather abruptly, when Alistair had managed to pin Aidan down and the result had been a boy breaking down in tears in his grip. With that, the Seer had promptly given up and called in reinforcements, leaving Ganymede to coax the kid into trusting them while he licked his wounds and decided that it would be the last time he’d ever accept a job like that. Only a week afterward, with Aidan still wary and barely healed from the abuse he had been put under by his handlers, a nineteen-year-old Ouki had decided that the boy would be in Alistair’s care. The young leader of the Yamada only beamed when Alistair gave him The Look, and very firmly stated that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

So there they were, five years down from where they had started. A family, with Ganymede as the mother, Alistair as the father, Aidan as their ‘son’ in the fact that the both of them had invested a life’s worth of knowledge to make him the best the market had to offer for his age group, and Maes as the annoying uncle that dropped in whenever people needed him the least. They had never moved out of their quaint two-bedroom-with-loft unit by the train tracks even though they earned enough between them all to buy a house. Their profession often demanded that one lived below one’s means. Invisibility blended well with the job.

“Finish your food quickly. We still need to report to the main house.”

Aidan only answered him with silence, heaping some more Chinese take-out onto his plate and averting his gaze. Alistair speared another slice of chicken and ate it whole. He couldn’t remember the last time things had been this quiet between them. It might have been a few years back, right after the first and last time Alistair had ever pushed the boy away. Aidan had been thirteen and still conditioned to think the only thing he was good for was sex. The whole incident had ended with Aidan running away into one of the worst storms in Arcis’ history and Alistair smoking through a pack every two hours up until the boy had been found.

The next time Aidan had kissed him was at sixteen, right in the middle of one of their routine drinking sessions. The boy had been serious, and so Alistair let him. From that moment onward they shared a bed on the nights that Ganymede wasn’t around and went back to being ‘father and son’ whenever she was. The woman was the only one who didn’t get their relationship rubbed in her face. It was enough that she didn’t approve of it.

…So that makes for the two times Ganymede Erasmus ever slapped you: once for thinking that it was your fault when it wasn’t and a second time because it really was.

At present, with or without Ganymede or anyone else in the circle to speak their mind, it was hard to tell exactly what and where they were. Or rather, Alistair knew but he wasn’t willing to go far. Commitment of the romantic sort had never been one of his strong points.

Alistair scooped up the last bits of fried rice in his bowl before standing up. “Get ready. We’re moving out in fifteen.”

He didn’t wait on a response because he knew it wouldn’t come.

***

“What did you do this time?”

“Do we always have to have a conversation based on whether I’ve fucked up or not?”

“Yes, because most of the time, you have.”

Alistair lifted the cigarette pack near his lips, drawing out one of the fags with his teeth as his free hand leafed through the report tacked on the corkboard. Maes Mordechai leaned over the counter, chin on one had as he grinned as his younger brother. The chill of the early winter season was bad enough to render the presence of a heater at full blast into little else but a slightly warmer spot in the shop compared to the rest of the room. Outside Ganymede Erasmus sat on an overturned crate with a cigarette of her own, gloved fingers holding it thoughtfully to her lips as she watched Aidan shoot at cans from fifty meters in the fading light of the afternoon. He hit each mark at dead center most of the time. When he didn’t he came pretty damned close.

“You should close up. I don’t think anyone’s coming around anymore.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Am I supposed to?”

Through the large picture window they could see Ganymede standing up, walking over to her charge and reaching out to guide him. Aidan tolerated this only barely. He was too fond of her to push her away. That, and she was likely to cuff him for it anyway. There were times when the distinction between assassin and mother with Ganymede were blurred and other times when they were only too clear. How she could afford to be so good at both roles never ceased to baffle Alistair. He knew for a fact that he was horrible at it by comparison.

“Someday he’s going to grow up and learn to hate you for this. I mean, it’s not really my business. It never has been. But unlike you, I’m not one to keep a pet around unless I plan to take care of it right.”

“Really? I was almost inclined to say that it’s a habit I picked up from you.”

“Funny, kid.”

“I never said I was joking.”

When Ganymede and Aidan came in they walked right through the tension but only Ganymede noticed it, and she decided to act as though nothing was amiss. Some words were exchanged by the three veterans as their ward wandered about, looking at the guns and shuffling about as the bored and restless young were often known for doing. When they left the shop Alistair was out the door first, and Aidan immediately fell into step beside him. Maes’ eyes were on the Seer’s back and he ignored it. He could ignore most things if he tried, even if it happened to be the boy who was always there right near his elbow, imploring him with just his presence and no words. They would go home and that day would be forgotten, like all the other days. Short term memory was what got them through everything.

sundays will never change [yasamu x savois]

Sun, 22 Jan 2006 05:49:34 GMT

Omfg HET! O_____O

*coughs*

Here was my humble attempt at something straight (*GASP!*) and fluffy (*DOUBLE GASP!*). Call it my bid to keep the boys in my audience without completely breaking their brains. >3

Song: "Sundays Will Never Change," from I'm Not a Gun.

Sundays Will Never Change.

Savois Montessi woke up to a perfect day. A combination of several things merited this title, some of which happened to be sunlight peeking out from the curtains, Minoru plunking out a random tune from his practice book on the piano, and Yasamu Shinta fast asleep beside her. The woman raised herself up to gaze down at her beloved, noting the careless toss of his arm in the space she had risen from and the way the morning light defined the smoothness and angles of his face, his body and the quiet rise and fall of his chest. She was the only one in the world who had the novelty of seeing Isherwood University’s headmaster without his suits and hair gel and tinted glasses and cologne. With the way the man conducted himself in the world beyond their home, one would think he was carved from ice. Savois alone knew the warmth of his skin, and the weight of affection in his gaze. Most days she found it difficult not to be smug about it with him, and anyone else who knew. She stifled a giggle at that thought, and prepared to slide out of bed and call for one of the maids to bring them breakfast. It was then that a hand snagged her wrist and a quietly drawn breath faded into a sigh.

“…Please tell me it isn’t morning yet.”

“No such luck, darling.”

Yasamu made a frustrated sound that was somewhere between a growl and a sleepy mumble as Savois turned about to face him with a smile that was nearly as bright as sunshine. Those violet eyes that she loved gazing into were hazed and unfocused, lost in whatever he had been dreaming about. She took this opportunity to laugh and tweak his nose.

“Did I ever tell you how adorable you look when you’re utterly befuddled?” she bent down to kiss the frown on his face before getting up, gathering her blanket about her naked form and walking towards the phone by the windowsill. “Wait a moment as I get my owl of a husband something to eat.”

Yasamu said nothing as he traced Savois across the room, and watched her exchange some words with the maids in the kitchen over a crescendo of piano notes floating up from the living room downstairs. Her hair had smelled of sandalwood when she had kissed him, and her breath of mint. She was beautiful whether he was admiring her from a distance or holding her in his arms as they tangled together beneath the sheets or met each other halfway through swift glances and quick embraces whenever their busy schedules would allow.

…No wonder Hikaru teases you for being such a sap.

Yasamu sat up in bed and ran a hand through his disheveled hair, half-thankful that his younger brother had never been given the opportunity to come across him that lax in the past.

“Minoru is the one playing, isn’t he?”

“Mm-hm. The latest teacher we’ve hired for him has done much better than the others. He likes her better also… I haven’t heard a single complaint about him playing any pranks, and it’s been nearly two weeks.”

“We should call the Guinness for that.”

“I agree.”

Their conversation continued over coffee and French toast, with Yasamu and Savois taking turns spreading the jam (strawberry for Yasamu, apricot for Savois) and feeding each other. “I still wonder where our son got his mischievous streak from,” Savois murmured, eyes gleaming as she fed a piece of toast to her husband. “I doubt it’s your brother. He rarely comes around these days.”

“Well, it can’t be me.”

“Why not?”

“There isn’t a funny bone in my body. Weren’t you the one who told me that?”

“I beg to differ,” Savois evenly returned, wagging the butter knife in her hand at Yasamu for emphasis. “I only said you tote around like a grumpy dwarf most days, that’s all. Returning to the matter of your brother, though, are you still up for meeting with him and Mikhail at the mall today? We can bring Minoru along.”

“You never get tired of shocking people, my dear.”

Savois merely beamed. Yasamu sipped his coffee, remembering the first time Mikhail Kaledin, his brother’s boyfriend, had discovered the truth about him and Savois and how they had a five-year-old son that looked just like his father. Hikaru still bent over laughing whenever he told the story to people.

At least he’s smiling again. I can only wonder how Alistair feels about that.

“Thinking, thinking, always thinking! Whatever can I do to get you to kick that habit?”

His beloved was waving another piece of toast at him right under his nose. The smile on her face never wavered. Yasamu bit into it obligingly, but not before allowing a rare smile of his own to grace his lips.

“So then. We’re going?”

“Yes.”

You, me, and our son.

rememories [mikhail x hikaru, pg-13]

Sun, 22 Jan 2006 05:44:54 GMT

Some harmless fluff for Citrus Avenue's teh lovely Smex Team. >3

Song: "Rememories" by Luna.

Rememories
Venetian blinds are cutting up the sun. The buttons in my head have come undone.

Sometime before 2 PM on an otherwise regular Monday, Mikhail Kaledin woke up just in time to feel the warmth beside him rise up from the nest of quiet for two that his bed had become as of late. He opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight streaming in from the window to watch his boyfriend perched at the edge, reaching for his wallet from where it lay discarded with the car keys, the open condom packet and the lube.

…SHIT!

“W-wait, don’t touch that!”

One ought to have congratulated him for the rather spectacular dive he made in the process of snatching his wallet from his roommate’s hands. Hikaru Shinta blinked up at Mikhail, rightfully bewildered at the older student’s behavior. This was not like Mikhail at all, and the both of them knew it.

“I was just going to borrow some change before I go to class…”

“Let me get it for you. How much do you need?”

For a while Hikaru could do nothing but gape at Mikhail as the latter turned from him, more to hide the blush creeping into his cheeks than for any other reason. When the boy spoke again, it was more out of amusement than it was surprise.

“You are such a priss.”

“Guilty as charged. Now answer the question.”

“Thirty credits should be good.”

Mikhail fished out the bills and handed them to the other from over his shoulder. A quiet laugh touched the air before Hikaru leaned forward to kiss him.

“See you later.”

With that, Hikaru bounced off the bed and traipsed over to the bathroom. It was only after he heard his lover start singing in the shower did Mikhail ease up the death grip he had on his wallet. He focused his attentions a little ruefully on the reason for his actions and tried not to sigh.

There was a picture stored in his wallet showing Hikaru in the sunlight of last summer, wearing the most brilliant smile Mikhail was yet to see on his lover’s face. It had been a candid shot, taken in secret by Sachiko Takahashi; charging the girl to take the shot and buying the photograph had been highway robbery, but it had been worth it, in a way. There were other pictures, other moments captured in still frame, and Mikhail didn’t intend to let Hikaru know about any of them. He doubted that he could take his roommate and lover’s merciless teasing if the younger student did find out.

Mikhail tossed the wallet unto the table and fell back on the sheets, listening to the sounds of #2041 Citrus Avenue on a slow afternoon: a song from Ritsu’s radio, Diego instructing Lorenzo in the ways of the Philippine harana, and Hikaru in the shower.

This was completion.

For more oneshots involving this pair (or if you want to read their story thread <3), head over to the story listing. :3

orchestra [mikhail x hikaru, nc-17]

Sun, 22 Jan 2006 05:39:46 GMT

One more, in the tradition of Nightswimming, for Mikhail Kaledin & Hikaru Shinta, rated for teh boysex (male readers, beware!). Post-Citrus and beyond the main story threads, as always. PDF version can be made available for download by request.

Song: "Orchestra", from The Servant.

And yes, discerning fans, I DID plug my love for Viewfinder here. *cackles*

Orchestra.
You can roll me up in your hand.

Theirs was a relationship defined by distance. From the first time they had met with Mikhail Kaledin standing in the doorway of Room 302 at #2041, Citrus Avenue watching his new room mate assimilate sorrow into digital dreams from the doorway, it had always been about waiting on signs, regardless of proximity. He felt that words had the tendency to fail them, even if his lover had a particular affection for them. They rarely spoke to each other because of this. The brush of fingers to skin and second glances and shared breath were often enough.

It was difficult to give an exact measure to distance. Sometimes, ‘distance’ was the space between their two bodies on their bed, one that he could reach an arm across to brush the hair away from that sleeping face. Other times, ‘distance’ was standing on the sidewalk, watching with the rest of the crowd as the black cars of the Shinta family pulled up to a building in a dazzling flash of camera lights and smiles. Still other times it was watching his plane take off from the departure area, or sitting across of him at the long table as he waxed strategy with their associates at the Tower, or coming down from their room in time to see the ends of his trench coat slip from sight around the corner.

Distance made them what they were. Distance was what put spaces between his heart and his lover’s because the boy had never quite learned how to devote himself to another without losing everything to it. Mikhail understood this. He chose to live for the moments when there would be no distance, when he could fill those spaces and try, once again, to smooth over the cracks in the only glass heart he had ever chosen to hold near his own.

It had been four years since the beginning of ‘them’ and there were only too many little breaks to fix. He uncovered new ones with startling speed every time.

***

He woke to the sound of thunder. The only lights in the room lay beyond the picture windows, drawn from a cityscape hazed by curtains of rain. Mikhail reached out to where the alarm clock read 3 AM on the night table, searching for then finding the cigarettes and the lighter. The space beside him was empty, and the sheets were cold. He lit up and rose from the bed, padding over to the chair that he had dumped most of his clothes on and picking up the rest of the articles from the floor on the way. The room still smelled faintly of his lover, but he was the only one there. He thought of distance and spaces again as he left it, trading the cold memory of skin for the warmth of coffee in the kitchen. He poured out the rest of the coffee into another mug after he was finished and only went to the office once the caffeine had oiled the little gears in his head enough to make him capable of a decent conversation.

“Resting doesn’t mean waiting until I’m asleep to get up and do paperwork.”

“I did rest.”

“For how long?”

“Long enough.”

Hikaru Shinta was clicking away at his computer and Mikhail knew he wasn’t working on a poem. There were stacks of paper, a manila folder labeled ‘CONFIDENTIAL,’ a map of Arcis and a .500 Smith & Wesson on the table. The dart board they had bought last Christmas had a mutilated photograph of one of the primary business rivals of the Shinta pinned to it. Hikaru turned away from the computer screen to highlight something on a document beside him as Mikhail watched. He wasn’t looking at him. This was a test that Mikhail was quite familiar with. If his patience held up for long enough, he would win.

“Brought you coffee. Have you eaten?”

“No need. Breakfast date with Natsuka-san from the Toujou side.”

“That’s in six hours.”

“I know.”

If he had been Satsuki he would’ve marched into the kitchen, whipped something up and plopped it in front of Hikaru right then and there but he was not Satsuki. Mikhail set the mug down, went around the desk and reached out, taking his lover’s face in his hands and forcing the other to look up at him. Violet eyes focused onto his own, slightly bewildered. He took advantage of the surprise and pried the pen away from almost nerveless fingers as he ran a hand through that hair, noting it soft and slightly wet from a shower. His touch kept Hikaru solid and tangible and there, he felt.

“I have to finish this. These plans are more for Natsuka than they are for me.”

The smile was kind but not forgiving. Mikhail ignored it for the other details, for the lines of weariness showing through pale skin, for the exhaustion that ran too deep in those eyes for Hikaru to hide it from him and the dark smudges beneath, for wrists and a frame that used to be slender but were now just too thin from stress, no sleep and very little eating. The more he saw the more he wanted to close his eyes but his resolve wouldn’t allow him to. The next chance of them having this sort of distance between them was next to nothing.

“Doing this is going to kill you.”

“I have my reasons—”

“I know you do. I know you need to prove yourself a better leader than your father. I know you have a corporation to run, allies to meet and enemies to destroy. I know that you’re dead on your feet and you’ll never admit it, and I also know better than you do that none of it will matter if you don’t listen to me right now and slow down.”

Hikaru was turning from him. He knew he had hurt the younger man somehow by giving him nothing but the truth but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Mikhail kissed his lover’s forehead and turned away.

“I’m going to do the rounds with you today.”

“Why?”

“I’ll need to get better acquainted with the corporation if I’m going to take over some parts of it for you, won’t I?”

He was out the door before he could hear any protests.

***

The remains of the day galloped along at somewhere just below the speed of light. Hikaru walked where the winds of the Corporation took him and Mikhail followed, revealing nothing of the shock he felt at realizing just how little he really knew and discovering how much his lover had kept to himself. Mikhail’s closeness left Hikaru aching for the other’s touch and revelations left Mikhail resisting the urge to find and strangle the people who had first figured it to be a smart idea to stand back and let Hikaru do everything.

They hardly spoke to each other, even in the lulls between one obligation and the next. Mikhail was the low voice in his ear and the guiding hand at the middle of his back and Hikaru wanted to thank him somehow, but exhaustion was a buzz in his head that he had to keep ignoring, even if it meant blocking out everything else but the job, the job, the job, sometimes the household and then the corporation.

Evening found them sneaking out of a wedding banquet held for the daughter of an ally from the Beishe, the ruling syndicate among the Chinese mafia in Arcis. They were up against the elevator wall and kissing the moment they had slipped out, but sometime before they reached the private room they were given in the hotel Hikaru had buried his face into Mikhail’s shoulder and wrapped his arms a little tighter around the other’s neck. Mikhail let his fingers run through the younger man’s hair and listened to the other breathe.

“I’m just a little dizzy.” The smile was swift, dazzlingly brilliant and evidence enough of the constant strain Hikaru had submitted himself to. He was letting go already. Mikhail knew this in the fact that his lover had allowed him to tag along the whole day. He dipped down to kiss the younger man and drew the other closer, waiting for them to reach the right floor and trying not to think about how Hikaru felt like a ragged bag of flesh and bone in his arms. They stumbled out of the elevator and into their suite as soon as they landed.

“How long did they book this for you?”

“Don’t know. One night? Maybe two? Feilong wanted me to stay behind after the festivities ended. Negotiations with the Beishe.”

Mikhail left Hikaru to crawl unto the bed as he lit up a cigarette, examining the room and what it had to offer them. Idly, he wondered if their hosts within the Triad had been acquainted enough with Hikaru’s modus operandi to know that he would need a room for two or whether it was all a universal coincidence. He heard a chuckle behind him, and walked over to where Hikaru was smiling at him from the bed.

“Feilong knows. Most of the ones I intend to ally with do.”

Mikhail chose not to comment as he started undoing the buttons on Hikaru’s shirt. The young man reached out in turn and undid the other’s tie. They started kissing again somewhere down the line, when Hikaru’s shirt was off and the first few buttons of Mikhail’s pants were undone. The younger man fought to stay quiet and in control, even as the need roughened his breath and his body responded only too well to Mikhail’s attention. And then he lost the fight when Mikhail reached down and caressed the full length of him as those lips met his neck.

The sound of his own name in his ear was music for Mikhail. When his lover shivered at his touch, he knew there would be no more distance between them that night, and something in him was content.

***

“I still remember when I used to do E and Crystal and all that other shit. You were the one who got me off it.”

It was 9 PM and Hikaru was supposed to be asleep but he wasn’t. Instead he was draped over Mikhail’s lap on the bed and the blanket was tucked over them both, talking to the older man as the latter smoked and stroked his hair and noted all the tiny bits of physical damage on his lover that he’d have to spend the next month or so healing over.

“You were also the one who told me to stop smoking weed, but I never did much of that in the first place.”

“You were too good for a life of writing and wasting away, even though you’re very good at doing both. Come to think of it, you still are good at it.”

“And you’re just as good at making me stop. You always have been.”

“I wish I didn’t have to be.”

Hikaru only rolled onto his back and smiled at him. The hollowness was still in those cheeks and the dark smudges were still beneath those eyes. A little more time and patience, and Mikhail knew he could get rid of them. He bent low to kiss Hikaru before the latter could ask him what was wrong.

“I’ll do the rounds like this for a few days more with you, but I’m going to take over some parts of the corporation once I’ve gotten the hang of it. Don’t give me that look,” Mikhail added softly, as he reached down to stroke his lover’s cheek with his thumb. “I already said this was going to kill you, and I know I’m right. The only way to stop that from happening is to lighten the load on your back. Besides, balancing power between two syndicate heads makes it easier to keep things in check for us and may force our rivals to stay on their toes when they’re dealing with the Corporation.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near the line of fire.”

“Do you think I like waking up each day knowing that you’re in it?”

“My job keeps in me in that position.”

“Then let it be my job too. We can keep the arrangement temporary, if it bothers you that much,” Mikhail offered, after a near uncomfortable pause. “Indulge me at least until everything has stabilized and you don’t have to force yourself to survive on an average of three hours of sleep when you gun things for the corporation alone.”

From Hikaru’s sudden silence Mikhail knew that his lover was weighing the words and studying the options. Giving in was probably the last thing that the younger man wanted to do, but with the way things had passed between them of late there was no denying what had been said. He needed to step back. He needed time to heal. He needed to give time to Mikhail to help him do it.

“…All right.”

Mikhail smiled.

“Good. Now do us both a favor and go to sleep.”

***

Two weeks down the line and Mikhail found himself standing on the patio just outside the room where the Shinta family enjoyed a private dinner with their close-knit circle of allies and associates. He had stepped out to smoke and now Satsuki was moving to join him. He barely got a word of greeting out before she took his hands in her own and smiled in a way that was nearly as brilliant for him as Hikaru’s was.

“I don’t know what you did, and I won’t ask. But thank you.”

And then she turned about and walked back into the warmth of the house. Mikhail finished off his cigarette and stared at the stars for a while before doing the same. The quickest of smiles and a gleaming glance was the only acknowledgment he received from Hikaru when he returned to the young man’s side, but they were exactly what he needed.

For the main story thread involving this pairing, check Lullabies to Paralyze.

nightswimming [mikhail x hikaru, nc-17]

Sun, 22 Jan 2006 05:28:08 GMT

Here's a quick one for Mikhail Kaledin & Hikaru Shinta, rated for teh boysex (watch your step, male readers). It's supposed to take place after Isherwood University, and it exists outside of the main story threads. I can put a PDF version of this up for grabs by request.

Song: "Nightswimming", from R.E.M.

Nightswimming.

“…And that would be it, sir.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes, sir. That’s all.”

Mikhail Kaledin flipped through the report, focusing with some effort on what it was trying to say. His secretary hovered near the door, cellular phone at hand and leather file case under one arm. It must have been midnight, given how quiet everything was. The guards were posted at the security camera rooms and the cleaners would be on the ground floor by then, but they were the only ones in the upper floors, where the employers of Zangyaku Heavy Industries and Exitialis Incorporated kept hard at work from dawn until well into the night to keep things running and money flowing. Activity in the Tower, however, usually stopped before the clock struck ten. After ten, a different sort of host came out to play.

Ah, and that reminds me.

“Where is he now, Hel?” he asked softly without looking away from what he was reading. There were the pause and quick words exchanged over a phone line before Helena Blackwell responded.

“He should be en-route to another meeting, Mr. Kaledin. It might be with that group you helped the boys neutralize last week.”

“Who’s with him?”

“The usual crew, as you’ve instructed.”

“Ah. Good.”

And this was how things were run. Corporations by day, yakuza lords by night, of ever-incalculable wealth and never failing to tread that thin line between unquestionably safe and downright fatal with every deal made over the table, every word spoken to agents in closed rooms. Mikhail had never considered this as an option towards the kind of life he would have liked to lead after Isherwood. Although cold ruthlessness in business was exemplary of the Kaledin name, his relatives had always tried to keep within the bounds of the law. They bent it when they could and never hesitated to usurp rival corporations or assimilate smaller companies into their plans before they could fight back, but the Underworld was a playing field that none of them dared to touch. There were other ways to make money. Safer ones, with risk that involved numbers rather than lives.

Mikhail had tried to follow their example, and he had succeeded in the beginning, for the most part. Then he had met Hikaru Shinta and everything changed.

“I think I’ll call it a night,” he said aloud, standing up. “Thanks for waiting up for me.”

“Always a pleasure, sir. Good night.”

No one but the woman manning the front desk greeted Mikhail the moment he stepped off the elevator and unto the ground floor, with his coat hanging loosely from his shoulders and his attaché case at hand. “Shall I have someone pick you up from the entrance, sir?” she asked, as Mikhail checked the time. 12:20 AM, right on the dot.

“No, I think I’ll take my car tonight… just have someone bring it up front for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thanks.”

Thirty minutes later and about three kilometers away from downtown Arcis his cellular phone rang. He answered it at the stoplight.

“Busy?”

“Maybe. What’s up?”

“I’ve got something to show you. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I’m sure,” Mikhail murmured into the receiver, trying not to smile and have it slip into his voice. “You sound happy. Did something happen?”

A soft, husky laugh. It made Mikhail remember just how long it had been since the last time for the both of them. Things had kept them busy, of late.

“Just come here as quick as you can. I’ll send the address over to you in a moment.”

Click. Mikhail looked down at his phone, bemused for a moment before the stoplight turned green and drew his attentions back to the evening traffic. The address arrived in an SMS message only a minute after the call. His curiosity with the whole matter increased when he recognized the building the moment he arrived. He remembered the place. It used to be marked down on the map as a zone that that people from the Shinta camp weren’t supposed to touch.

Five members of the demolition crew were loitering about in the lobby of the building; two of them were doing yo-yo tricks while the others were watching. The whole lot of them, however, immediately straightened up when Mikhail drew close.

“Mr. Kaledin.”

“At ease. Where is he?”

“At the rooftop, sir.”

Rooftops. Top floors. Penthouses and king-sized beds came to mind. Mikhail removed his thoughts from that particular trajectory and walked off towards the elevator. He only managed to dig out his cigarettes when he was halfway to the top, and he lit up in the corridor that he found himself in. It was eerily silent, and other than the way he had come from there was only one other place to go.

The chill of the evening came in the blast of wind that rushed over Mikhail the moment he pushed the glass doors leading to the rooftop open. All of Arcis stretched out in the darkness beyond the building, in the dizzying blur of firefly lights and swimming colors. The cityscape, however, did not demand his attentions as much as his immediate surroundings did. There was the pavilion near the opposite edge of the rooftop, cradling a hot tub and offering a vantage towards the sea. There was the pool that took up nearly half the area, with a waterfall that gave the illusion that the pool spilled off into the shadows and the streets below. And then there was Hikaru Shinta in the water, arms pillowed over the pool side facing Mikhail and smiling.

“Come in.” the lights of the city all around them were in those eyes, making them gleam with something other than whatever was already in that look and everything it said to him, between spoken words. “It’s warmer here.”

“What happened to your meeting?”

“I’m meeting you, aren’t I?”

Mikhail scoffed as he stopped at the water’s edge, kneeling down just as Hikaru reached up for him. “I’ll have to tell Hel that her information network was off, for once,” he murmured as he felt those slender arms wrap about his neck. “She said you’d be handling some negotiations tonight.” He tasted Vodka on Hikaru’s lips when they kissed. “Wasn’t this building on the blacklist just last week?”

“It’s under new management now. I believe it was placed under a certain ‘Shinta.’”

Times like this reminded Mikhail just how young his lover was, and how much of their life was still a game that Hikaru knew how to play only too well at times. That boy was the one who watched him now, expectantly, as he stood up and went towards the pavilion, where he took off his coat and abandoned his attaché case near the bundle that he assumed were Hikaru’s belongings. He discarded the rest of his clothes at the pool’s edge before stepping into the water and the full circle of Hikaru’s embrace. He quickly discovered that the younger man was as gloriously naked as he had hoped he would be.

“…Well. This makes certain things easier for me.”

Hikaru merely laughed into the crook of his shoulder. They drifted further out until they stood practically glued together in waist-deep water, where they started kissing again. “Do you like it?” he whispered into Mikhail’s ear in one of those inevitable pauses for breath. “There’s not another place in town that’s like this one. Having a heated pool and hot tub on the roof, I mean.”

“The pool is better with you in it.”

“Then it must be perfect now.”

They slipped into the water together to see how long they could subside with each other’s breath as air.

Although the pool had been pleasant in its own right, the hot tub with its jet streams and the miniature waterfall set up to one side of it was more suited for the activity that followed about thirty minutes after their water play. Mikhail knew the evening was complete the moment he found himself covering Hikaru, listening to his lover’s breath go ragged with need over the rush of water around them. It was all the younger man could do to keep himself from whimpering when Mikhail reached down to touch him underwater.

“Hush. I’ll be done with this soon.”

“…Tease.”

When those hands reached out they sought to pull Mikhail closer, to guide him where he could plant kisses on the object of his affection and suck the warmth away from that skin, to make it his own. He let them, loving the feel of those fingers threading into his hair, gripping with no force in tune to the slender body that rose against his own whenever he did something that he knew the other liked.

Mikhail had Hikaru against the edge later on, where the water spilled over his back as he pressed in deep, bringing the other near the end of his resolve and himself closer to exactly what he had grown to want and to love over the years. They spent a few moments basking in the afterglow when it was done, tangled in each other near the shallows and listening to the water.

“Don’t you ever grow tired of this?”

It was an honest question, Mikhail realized, the moment he looked down and saw Hikaru looking up at him. There was no smile to greet him, and the light in those eyes had changed. The arms were loose from around his neck, and all it would take was a simple shift and they’d slip away from him, letting him move away if he wanted to.

“I wouldn’t have lasted this long with you if I were that fickle, Hikaru.”

“…I know that… but…”

“But what?”

He kissed away the furrow on that brow, and stroked the younger man’s face with one thumb, admiring the flushed cheeks and fine skin as he held that gaze steady to his own. Hikaru opened his mouth to him in the first round of kisses, and by the time the second round was finished he was smiling.

“I should have never doubted you.”

“It’s part of your natural charm.” Mikhail drifted away from Hikaru and moved towards the steps leading out. “Come on. We better go before you catch a cold.”

When they came down from the rooftop together, the members of the demolition crew only exchanged smiles among themselves before moving to get the cars. They showered together back in the estate, cleaning each other off just as much as they partook of each other’s skin. The bed sheets that they fell into afterward were as warm as the waters of that pool on the rooftop.

“We should try out a hot spring next time.”

Mikhail let his kisses tell Hikaru that he agreed.

For the main story thread involving this pairing, check Lullabies to Paralyze.

deja entendu [aidan x rethe]

Sun, 22 Jan 2006 05:16:18 GMT

For those of you who were wondering... there are no real chronological order to the story threads. The only time things should be read in a particular order is if it's the story thread of a particular pair, as some pairings or groups have stories that extend past the usual limit ezraelandvari and I set for these things. The main story listing an order down for reference. Other than that, you can read things in any order you like.

Now then. :3 This one's the first installment of the main story thread involving Aidan Clayce & Rethe Kyriff. It's a lot longer and a lot fluffier than Lullabies was, if that's what you all are hoping for. Again: apologies to those getting this twice. ^-^

NOTES: No need to rate this one. XD For other Citrus Avenue stories, check the listing at this page.

He liked going back there because it made him feel useful, for once.

This story and the titles of its chapters were written to an album from Brand New. Here's a sampling of some of the tracks:

Tatou
Guernica
Play Crack the Sky
Jaws Theme Swimming

If you're interested in hearing more, feel free to request. :3