Saint Seiya Fan Fiction ❯ The Darkest Hours ❯ The Darkest Hours ( One-Shot )

Title: The Darkest Hours
Author: Shadow Arashi
Pairing: RhadamanthysxKanon
Theme: # 7 sleep (bonus); # 24 meditation; # 21 the thrill of the forbidden
Warnings: Angst and yaoi, thought nothing explicit really.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Saint Seiya or any of the characters used in this story.



 
 The Darkest Hours

by Shadow Arashi





Rhadamanthys took a long drag of his cigarette, eyes closed as his body cooled down from his previous… activities. He could heard the soft breathing beside him, could see in his mind the long locks of blue hair tangled upon the bed.

Rhadamanthys took another drag and sighed.

The exhausted and slumbering body next to him buried itself unconsciously deeper into the blankets and the spectre had to wonder once again how they ended up like this. When he thought about it, this whole mess had started innocently enough actually.

The confident smirk, cool blue-green eyes first intrigued him while the rebellious attitude and strength attracted the warrior in him. All it took to change his enemy into a bedmate then was an unexpected encounter and an insight into the psyche of the mysterious saint.

It hadn’t been a smooth road. The first and only time they met outside of the battlefield in public - so to speak - things didn’t go too well. The saints and spectres present that day had feared to have to bodily separate them to prevent any bloodshed. The tension had simply grown to explosive proportions the minute they saw each others. They had enough control not to start a riot in the wake of the war between their respective divinities though. Things stayed quiet and not a word was exchanged between them.

It was only some time later that Rhadamanthys would stumble upon the man who had started to haunt his dreams in a way that would forever change their life. Who have thought that Kanon had suicidal tendencies?

He didn’t ask him the reason for his action at that moment. Rather he merely stared at him, more disturbed and worried than he wanted to admit by the sight of a bloodied, broken and dazed Kanon. Things happened very quickly then and before he knew it the second saint of Gemini was sleeping in his bed, arms bandaged up to his elbows.

Things definitely changed after that day, thought not as much as one could expect.

Rhadamanthys actually didn’t see Kanon for a month after he patched him up, until the other man suddenly popped up at his place without warning one night. Maybe they had both come to term with what they wanted at that time; or maybe the tension they felt and couldn’t express in fighting anymore needed another way to be evacuate. All that matter was that they ended up involved in a different sort of fighting between the sheets that night, an act that left them breathless and sated, an act that made their blood burn once again with the thrill of danger and the threat of discovery.

For the first time in a long while both warriors slept soundly. From then on, Kanon would show up every once in a while, spending the night before leaving in the morning.

They never talk, leaving their bodies do the communication for them. Desire and sex hardly need any talk after all. The Wyvern didn’t really feel the need to change the current status-quo either, though he sometime had a bitter taste in his mouth in the morning when he would wake up alone.

That’s when he took up to staying awake after sex, in the single purpose of observing Kanon as the gold saint sleeps.

The other man, while beautiful awake, was breathtaking in his sleep. At least that was Rhadamanthys’ opinion. The gold saint’s whole face seemed to relax and soften in slumber, as if all his worried were stripped away from his being along with his consciousness. The spectre thought it was more than likely the case.

This was not the only reason he kept himself awake though. The most important one that kept him watching his partner in the dark hours of night was that, while he was awake and staring at the resting form of his lover, he could pretend things were normal.

It was only during those rare moments of peace, when sexual and social tension weren’t choking them that Rhadamanthys could play make-believe and pretends; pretend that everything was fine and under control, that they weren’t playing with fire or that they weren’t risking everything every time they met secretly.

Their relationship - if such a word could describe their strange couple - only gained a hint of normality during those instants where the rest of the world didn’t exist, where it was only the two of them between the soft blankets of his bed. Past this padded universe of crumple sheets and intense heat, they were truly nothing but strangers.

He was aware that Kanon was using him, just as himself was using the gold saint’s body to sate the uncontrollable urges the other man had awaken in him. He was also aware that their situation couldn’t last. One day, Kanon would not come back.

That’s why he was looking back at the spent form laying next to him now, a nearly fully burned cigarette held limply between his fingers. Because tomorrow he may not return to him.

The sight offered to his eyes was the same as usual, the source of his nightly meditation innocently sprawled over the bed covers like a child though his posture was anything but innocent; blissfully ignorant to what was going on inside the blonde’s head.

Or maybe not that ignorant after all, which would explain his lack of reaction to his surrounding even when Rhadamanthys wrapped a hand over his throat on a whim. Kanon could have woken up if he wanted. He was a trained warrior and such a sloppy attack from the Wyvern wouldn’t be enough to take him by surprise. He wasn’t that tired or careless, even in the depth of slumber. Maybe he wanted the spectre to press just a tiny bit harder. The blond spectre contemplated briefly about doing just that. Would it be considered merciful for the both of them?

But now Kanon was sleeping and Rhadamanthys quickly let go of the pale neck of his lover. While his blue haired obsession was sleeping he could hope and pretend that they were an ordinary couple, and that there was no gods to keep them separated. That without those barriers they could have actually grow to love each others.

Crushing his cigarette into the astray, Rhadamanthys cursed himself profusely and crawled back under the covers.

Damn Kanon for giving him a taste of the forbidden and damn him for falling for it. For Hades helps him, now he couldn’t have enough of it.


 
OWARI