Alone Together

Mayfly 

In a sky so blue 
I cannot see you 
We loved each other 
But it was an illusion 

Your moment was brilliant 
Against our inevitable future 
My emotions scream out 
In my pitiful solitude 

Someone smiles 
Like you long ago 
Love fades away 
Only an illusion 

Soon to vanish 
Take me away 
Don’t leave me alone 
Ephemeral love 

Nagi set his paintbrush down and regarded the handsomely inked
calligraphy of his own poetry. /Garbage./ 

No words were good enough to describe how he felt. There was no such
thing as a real “love poem”. If it was true love, it couldn’t be
described in any language. He picked the note up gingerly, folded it
into quarters because the ink was still wet, then ripped it neatly in
half and dropped it into the wastebasket. 

/What are you doing right now, Omi? Are you happy with your new love? If
you had found me first could it have been me at your side right now? Or
was destiny always meant to keep us apart?/ Nagi had spent so much time
thinking about Omi ever since they first met, it could have been
described as an obsession. But he didn’t feel obsessed like some stalker
or anything, he just felt… 

“In love,” Nagi breathed. His gentle puff of breath dissipated into the
air and Nagi silently willed his words to reach Omi’s heart. Where ever
he was… /Omi, are you laughing? Are you smiling that enchanting smile I
can’t erase from my mind? Is Aya making you happy? Is he treating you
well? God… You deserve to be treated like a king. I would give you
anything, I…/ 

/I love you so much. And for one precious moment, I had you. I held you
and you looked at me with those jewels for eyes and said…/ 

“I love you, too…” The words sighed from his lips like the haunting echo
of a dead lover. Maybe in a way he was. The boy could hear the rain
falling on the roof so gently now. 

/Omi your sighs… Your beauty… The way your lithe body would stir and
move at my touch. I would die and come back from hell just to hold you
like that one more time. God, I’m in hell now. I miss you, I want you so
much… But I’m so glad I met you, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It
hurts so much to think of how much I need you, but… I still never want
to forget you, forget this feeling, even this pain. I want to capture
this feeling forever, so tried to write you poetry, Omi, but… It’s not
the same. I need the real _you_ There’s no substitute for your pure
heart./ 

/What if you’re not smiling right now? What if that Aya man has hurt
you? What if Schwarz is hurting you now? What can I do, Omi, to save
you?/ Nagi stared at the clock on the wall. It was very late. Or early
in the morning, depending on how you looked at it. He wished for a
moment he had Clofford’s abilities of premonition so he could know when
Schwarz would be getting back. 

As if on cue, the door banged open and the other three men tromped
through the door. All were soaking wet from the rain except for Clofford
who had a black umbrella. He always seemed to be prepared. He didn’t
even have a spot of water on his wire-rimmed glasses. Schuldip was
laughing. 

“Ah, Nagi! You missed a damn good show, kid! Your little ‘boytoy’ put on
quite a heroic act to save that girl. I was _moved_!” He wiped away an
imaginary tear and smiled with genuine amusement at the thought. “I
don’t know *why* you didn’t want to come with us!” 

Nagi solemnly pretended to ignore the German and kept his chin held high
and aloof at the words. Clofford walked past Nagi to get a cup of coffee
from the kitchenette. As he walked by, he made a subtle point to brush
against Nagi’s shoulder. Nagi stopped for a moment and thought. What did
that mean? Something was going on. 

“… But I won’t take all the credit,” Schuldip was saying when Nagi
started paying attention again, “It was Jei here who actually waxed the
girl. Huh?” he clapped the white-haired man in the doorway on the back.
 
“Call me by that name again and you’ll get to join her,” FarPhaleo said
darkly. 

Schu laughed again. He was always in a jovial mood after a night of
torturing innocent minds. He said their thoughts tasted like honey. Like
FarPhaleo, he enjoyed his job. And Clofford… Well, Clofford he couldn’t
figure out just yet. “Well, I’m going to get out of these wet clothes
and take this one back to his padded play-pen for the night.” Schuldip
jerked his thumb at FarPhaleo who was chuckling to himself about some
dark epiphany he’d apparently had. “Not in that order of course!”
Schuldip laughed, “Schizophrenic masochists aren’t really my type.” 

Nagi watched Schu leave the room with FarPhaleo in tow, and shuddered at
the thought of how Schuldip was scariest when he was in his good mood.
Had FarPhaleo really killed Omi’s sister? That’s what Schuldip had said…
 
“Nagi,” a deep voice from behind him said. It was Clofford. He’d kept
his Western habit of drinking coffee instead of tea, but he was so
professional he’d lost all trace of his American accent. Clofford didn’t
make “mistakes.” 

“What?” Nagi asked. He felt distinctly uncomfortable now that he and the
dark-haired American were alone together. He even longed for the cruel
comments or silent psychosis from Schuldip and FarPhaleo as long as they
relieved the awful tension. 

“I’ve had a premonition that I haven’t told the others about yet,”
Clofford was saying in his smooth, soothing voice, “I thought that you
would be most interested in it.” 

“Then why don’t you tell me what it is?” Nagi asked. He already knew why
Clofford didn’t tell him right away. He just wanted to make Clofford say
it himself. 

“I thought that it was only fair that if I do a favor for you, you would
do a favor for me, too,” Clofford said. He stood very close to Nagi,
now, but never close enough to make contact. Somehow, that was even more
frightening. 

Nagi shivered. “How do I know that what you have to tell me is worth
it?” Nagi asked flatly. His voice and expression betrayed no emotion.
Clofford sat in the chair across from Nagi. 

“I assure you it is worth your time. It’s about your beloved Weiß boy,”
Clofford said. “And you know I what I like,” Clofford added, “I won’t
touch.” 

Nagi knew all too well. “I know,” he said softly, “You just like to
watch.” 

Clofford nodded. “Do we have an agreement?” 

“Sure,” Nagi said without betraying one of the thousands of feelings
which rushed through him. “What did you See?” 

“I Saw the events of tonight breaking apart the relationship between the
one you like and the red-headed Weiß,” Clofford said cryptically, “ I
could See how fragile their bond will become in the next night and day.
The boy is very vulnerable. Down one Path of the future, I See a chance
for you to reclaim him.” 

Nagi’s eyes grew wide as they stared at the table in front of him, his
mind reeling with possibilities. /My dream…/ “Thank you, Clofford.
That’s very interesting,” Nagi said dispassionately. A deal was a deal.
Almost mechanically, his slender fingers began to unbutton the top of
his collar, then slowly, slowly down the rest of his stiff shirt. 

Clofford watched in silent, cold fascination as one of Nagi’s thin hands
brushed gently across his own collarbone. He pushed the shirt off one
side of his chest, revealing his creamy white shoulder and one tender
nipple. It was firm and pink like a tasty berry and Clofford moved
gently in his seat at the sight of the creamy soft skin, the flat hollow
of the boy’s navel and the weak shoulders. It was a body so pure, so
tantalizing, so sinful. Clofford indulged in his own perverse desire for
just a moment longer before he couldn’t stand his own self-conscience.
He turned his face away from the sweet angel emerging from its shell…
Clofford squeezed his thighs together against his erection and said
flatly, “Thank you, Nagi, that is enough.” 

Nagi stared at the man hollowly for a moment, his button-up shirt
half-open like a harlot. /It must be my lucky day,/ Nagi thought to
himself as he watched Clofford leave the room. No boy or man ever caught
Clofford’s eye; he only slept with women. Yet he seemed to find an
exception in Nagi’s case. It always seemed to be a sick, sinful pleasure
of Clofford’s. They were both filled with their own shame and
self-loathing when Clofford would watch Nagi touch himself. Clofford
called him “Angel” when they did it, but he always stopped Nagi before
the boy was finished with his humiliating “performance”. Tonight was the
first time that Clofford had actually stopped Nagi before he was even
naked. He hadn’t even finished taking off his shirt, yet. 

/Maybe he’s starting to feel guilty enough about his sick tastes that
he’ll stop this,/ Nagi thought to himself hopefully, but he knew that
was only a dream. Clofford couldn’t stop his perverse need any more than
Nagi could stop feeling the shame and humiliation each time he was
forced into doing it. But this time it was okay. He would let himself be
tainted by those hungry eyes which raped his fragile body with their
gaze. It was worth any price, either body or soul, if it gave him a
chance to get closer to Omi. 

As Nagi apathetically buttoned up his shirt again, he glanced up at the
clock. It was 3:00 in the morning, but at least the rain had stopped.