Graveyard Visit
Original



Warning: Sexually suggestive themes

He felt… strange… Sad… nostalgic, perhaps…?

His crimson eyes flickered about the rows of headstones, each marking a day that the buried could never escape. He shuddered involuntarily and shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his robes as he hurried his pace … He wasn’t overly fond of cemeteries. Why should he be? The dead were dead, and he was alive…

His pace faltered and on that note he nearly spun on his heel and swiftly made his way out of the neatly kept graveyard. If he truly believed that philosophy, then what in the nine hells was he doing here?

He stopped momentarily to stare at a small child, holding that hand of, presumably an older sister and staring down at a headstone, flowers hanging limply in her hands… Yami paused, and glanced down to his feet guiltily… He hadn’t brought any flowers…

He nearly used this as an excuse to scurry away, but inwardly the half-demon knew he would regret it if he just walked out of the graveyard. It wouldn’t be the first time he had failed to visit his deceased kin. For the past two years he had struggled with trying to make his way to his departed loved ones headstones… Yet, each time he had become too flustered, made excuses and left without so much as stepping within twenty yards of their gravestones. What the hell was he so scared of?

Yami willed himself to walk again, but his hardened crimson gaze never lifted high enough to observe the rows of headstones. Just walking here… above all those rotting corpses felt like a mockery to the dead. He felt dirty, unworthy, arrogant and smug. Almost as if he was strutting about their headstones, teasing those lifeless corpses with his very presence… His ability to interact with the living and his loved ones still…

His contemplations had been so deep that he was unconsciously following the pathway towards the middle of the cemetery. Then, jerking his head up the half-demon was startled to find himself standing before two gorgeous marble headstones, both adorned with fresh bouquets of flowers… Beautiful blossoming roses and carnations showered the graves, nearly covering the names of the beloved deceased. Yet, Yami didn’t have to check the names to know who they were.

“Hey… Mum…Father.” He paused, shifting uncomfortably, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. His hands felt sweaty, clammy, and for the life of him he couldn’t understand why he was so flustered speaking to his departed parents. Perhaps it was just the awkwardness of talking out loud to someone who wasn’t physically there? Even so, Yami was forced to take a breath to try to steady himself, but he failed miserably.

“I’msorryIhaven’tvisited.” He blurted out nearly incoherently as the words jumbled together. His lips moved noiselessly for a few moments, until he lowered his head, laughing softly. “I… guess I don’t really have much of an excuse.” He finished, more softly, quieter.

He continued to stare blankly down at the golden plaque with his mothers name engraved fancily within it… His eyes searched the plaque for several more silent minutes, until shrugging to himself he continued. “Well… I’m married now…Yeah…He’s a boy.” He added with a soft murmur, thinking of how his father might have reacted had he still been alive to witness his wedding (most likely he would have acted very negatively). “He’s real nice… I’m happy with him…” The Prince of Aurora was surprised to find his voice strained, and each word feeling forced and uncomfortable. “You would have liked him, Mum. He’s real sweet…like you.” He closed his eyes and tried to fight back the painful burn in his throat, and the strange melancholic emotions that began to clutch at his heart. He struggled to continue, to keep his voice steady. “His name is Kaelin… We’ve adopted a little girl named Flouresce. She’s still just a kid, but she already has me catering to her ever need.” Yami chuckled softly to himself, thinking of the brilliant tactics his daughter used to persuade him. “You’d like her, Father.” He said suddenly, surprising himself. He paused, but continued, even if he felt silly. “She’s real head-strong; she’s going to be an amazing leader.” 

A flush spread across his pale cheeks. He dodged his face behind his long black hair as if hiding it from the unseen presence. “And…then there’s Raif. He’s two now. He’s…” He felt his face grow hotter, and he swallowed to try and sound nonchalant, “He’s mine and Ankei’s… Yeah, I was surprised too… He’s got hair like mine, but he has Ankei’s eyes. He’s beautiful.” The half-demon took several minutes to regain his composure. It wasn’t every day that a son confessed he had had a child with their own sibling to his parents (even if physical intimacy hadn’t occurred… (Well, to create Raif, anyways)). Yami felt strange telling them all of this. He hadn’t ever visited their graves since their funerals.

Yami made a soft noise that sounded much like something between a sigh and grunt. “A lot has happened, huh?” He continued lamely, his eyes still downcast. “Since… since everything. Since you died, Mum. It’s been so long… what, eleven years now? And Father… you’ve been gone for two years.”

That damn feeling again… That feeling of tightness in the chest, the burning in his throat, that miserable, ghastly feeling.

“…I wish you had seen Raif and Flouresce, Father… But I was sort of scared of what you’d say about Kaelin and I… I really… I-I really wish I could… I could have known you better, Father. I… I-I’m sorry I was so disappointing… that you felt like you had to hide me. I’m sorry I had been born like this…”

Yami closed his eyes, feeling stupid for crying, but unable to stop himself. His shoulders shook with the effort and he clenched his hands together so tightly his knuckles began to hurt. He chewed at the corner of his lip, trying to breathe deeply through his nose—trying everything to calm himself. Something wet and cold slid down his cheek, and it took him a moment to realize it wasn’t his own tears. Curious, he lifted his eyes to the Heavens.

It was raining… Hadn’t it just been quite nearly a cloudless perfect evening?

Yami continued to stare up at the sky, bemused. The rain caressed him gently, tracing its wetness across his face and plastering his long black hair against his skin. It felt almost like finger tips stroking his hair and face, gently…lovingly. A small smile touched the half demons’ lips, and he let out a soft chuckle, dropping his chin down, his eyes closed to fight back a new onslaught of tears. “Are you crying for me, Father?” He asked, and then he tried to catch his breath so he could continue, but he only managed to sob out an incoherent sentence. Gasping painfully between each raking sob, he managed to whisper softly, painfully, “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

He wanted to continue, but between his sobs and his shaking he couldn’t form any real words. He wanted to tell his Father he wasn’t angry with him anymore… That he finally accepted that his Father really truly hadn’t been himself in those moments of fitful anger he had shown towards Yami. Yami now understood the psychological damage his father had caused for himself… Kitisrumi had truly, quite honestly believed that Yami being born with a demonic presence had dishonored the Royal Elfin Bloodline, making him a traitor to his people and his family. Kitisrumi had made himself sick with guilt. So sick with shame and humiliation that he had taken it out on Yami every time he had seen the crimson-eyed boy. Yami felt shameful of what his appearance had done to his father… If he had only been born without these red eyes—or perhaps not even born at all…

Yami felt someone squeezing his shoulder reassuringly, and with a terrified and surprised gasp he spun about, nearly backhanding the intruder. Ankei caught his wrist at the last moment looking somewhat startled. There was a silence as they stared at each other. Ankei’s frown was troubled, “Hey…” He said softly, worriedly. “Are you all right?” He shifted the umbrella that Yami just noticed his brother was carrying so that it covered the two of them. Though, now he had to step much closer to his sibling. Yami dropped his gaze shyly, and didn’t reply. “…Yami?”

“Yeah…” The five foot half demon said, shrugging. He kept his face downcast, but his wet hair only clung to his pale cheeks instead of shielding his eyes as he had intended. He looked so miserable even if he was smiling. “I… was just talking to Mother and Father…”

Ankei blinked, a little taken aback. He let his own cerulean gaze drop to the headstones of their parents, as if surprised this was where he had found his little brother. Then again, it made sense. Who else would the unsociable half demon visit? He hadn’t known anyone else in Aurora. Ankei lifted his eyes and glanced about the dark, cold and rainy graveyard… He knew several people here, most of them having met a short, unexpected end… Including… Ankei shook his head forcefully, refusing to surrender to those horrible, melancholic memories. After a moment Ankei realized that his lack of response was making Yami uncomfortable, “Yeah? Great…” The King said lamely, blinking.

Yami began to shiver violently, and at first Ankei thought it was from the cold, but he soon realized his brother was crying. If it wasn’t for his superior hearing due to his elf blood, Ankei might have missed the others murmuring. “I-I miss them.” He was saying, softly, over and over. His voice was choked with emotions—something Ankei almost never witnessed from his stoic sibling. He stared, mystified. Yami seemed to be trying to calm himself, but after a moment he simply covered his face with his hands in embarrassment, shaking.

“Hey…” Ankei said again softly, soothingly. He reached out with his free hand to pull his brother up against him into a sympathetic embrace. Yami greedily accepted the touch, burying his face into the Kings soft silken blue tunic and hugging the taller man as tightly as he could. “It’s all right, Yami…” Ankei continued in the same comforting voice. He felt alarmed by his brothers’ emotion, but also a little relieved. It was unhealthy that Yami had been holding all this in for so long…

They stood for several minutes with Yami’s soft sobs and the sound of the repetitive rain beating off the umbrella the only audible noises they could make out. That was, until, a streak of lightening appeared over head. It was followed by a clap of thunder. Yami gasped, startled, and buried his face into his brothers’ chest further, clinging, grasping, holding onto his pillar of strength. Ankei blinked worriedly down at his brother, then up at the umbrella. He made a disquieted face.

“Come on. Let’s go before we get electrocuted.” Ankei said, laughing softly. He managed to pry his brother from himself and then put his arm reassuring around his shoulders and lead him back to the castle. Yami was silent, his eyes downcast, his hair stringy and wet as it clung to his skin. Ankei, however, was still majestic and welcoming as always, seeing as the umbrella had sheltered him from the dampening rain.

Ankei smiled at the servants within the castle when they arrived, offering them no explanations for Prince Yami’s distraught, miserable state. The blond, having discarded the umbrella at the entrance, ushered his brother along down the halls until they came to his bedroom. The King guided his younger brother inside.


Yami stood awkwardly just outside the closed door rubbing one arm up and down to try and bring some warmth to his trembling body. He glanced about his brothers chambers, feeling infelicitous to the very room… He felt like some uninvited intruding guest… Yami jumped when his brother placed both hands on either side of his face and lifted his eyes so they met. “Come on, you’re going to get sick if you stay in that.” Ankei said in a tone that suggested he had said that to the young demon several times now.

Yami flushed slightly, and glanced away and Ankei let him. The tall blond stepped back, his fists on his hips as he stared at his embarrassed, wet, and neglected looking sibling. He wanted to hug him, badly… Just hold him and tell him everything was going to be all right, but Yami’s violent shivering was frightening. Yami was going to get ill if he didn’t warm up soon.

“Come on, have at it.” Ankei said again cheerfully.

“…” Yami glanced back at him, glaring unkindly, lowering.

“Go on now, strip.” Ankei said bluntly, leaning forward for emphasis with his arms still akimbo. Yami only flushed, giving his brother a guarded, unflattering scowl. “Do I have to do it myself?” Ankei asked, stepping forward. To his great alarm, Yami took several terrified step backwards, hugging himself as if to protect himself from bodily injury. He backed himself up against the dresser, shaking, terrified. Ankei blinked, and very slowly straightened, patting the air delicately to try and calm his brother. “It’s all right; I’m not going to hurt you, Yami.”

“…Just…don’t….touch me…” Yami whispered softly, his gaze dropping. He sagged against the dresser, looking like he might collapse at any moment. With the amount of shaking he was doing, Ankei wouldn’t doubt that would be the outcome very soon.

Ankei stood very quietly for a moment. “Hey… you know I won’t hurt you, right?” He asked. He felt horrible, guilty, that he even had to ask that. Why would Yami be so afraid of him?

“It’s not that.” Yami replied at length. He sunk to the ground, sopping wet still. His clingy clothes only showed how sickly thin he really was. His skin was ashen, clammy and illuminating a sense of sincere sickness. Ankei was startled. He had always seen his brother as a slight, slender pretty thing… but now, he couldn’t help but notice how ill his brother really looked. Yami interlaced his fingers together, his head dropping off to one side weakly. He was still shaking, and it was evident in his voice. “There are just some things that I don’t want you to see.”

Ankei tilted his head curiously. It had been a long time since he had seen his brother like that… Ankei flushed pink at the memories, and cleared his throat glancing away. But… they weren’t like that anymore. Yami was married and Ankei… The King cleared his throat again before he took several tentative steps towards his brother. Yami glanced up at him, glaring slightly, but he did not protest. Eventually Ankei made his way to his brother, and then sat down crossed-legged in front of him.

“Look… I don’t know what you’ve been through these last couple hundred years, but…” The King of Aurora frowned somewhat, his playful demeanor present even with all his seriousness. “...I’m not going to laugh or anything…”

Yami scowled at him, “Why would you laugh?” He asked coldly, shuddering violently. The dark-haired man made a face as if he was upset he couldn’t control his body’s shaking. He glowered and his voice was dark, “What are you implying?”

Ankei realized this had been the wrong thing to say. “N-nothing, Yami. I swear. I promise.”

Yami scowled. “Are you still whoring yourself out? You aureate little—“

“HEY!” Ankei yelled, surprised. “Easy! That’s not what I’m saying, holy hell!” Ankei sat back, wide-eyed. “Seriously, Yami. Chill out. I don’t want to fuck you or anything.”

Yami flushed crimson, and glared. His teeth were chattering.

“I just want to get you out of that wet clothes before you get a cold.” Ankei continued, somewhat glumly. Yami glanced away. “…You didn’t have to call me that, you know.”

“…Shut up.”

“...It’s not like you have been innocent yourself either…” Ankei continued, but stopped when Yami’s head snapped back around and his seething look caused the blond to back up defensively. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” He continued, annoyed that it was acceptable for Yami to call him a whore, but not all right for his little brother to hear it back.

“I said, shut up.” Yami hissed.

“…All right… Look, you’re upset, I’m upset… We’re both upset.” Ankei said, he even so much as dared to place his hand on his brothers’ shoulder. Yami twitched violently and gave him a venomous glare, but Ankei continued. “Let’s just… get you warmed up. I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

“…This is your room.” Yami replied. He made an effort to sit up fully, but he moved like his limbs were stiff. Ankei helped him. “…You can do whatever the hell you want.”

“…Come on, don’t be like that.” Ankei said, standing up. He offered his brother his hand, but the shivering Prince refused to accept it. Sighing, Ankei turned away and began to rummage through his dresser. “You know, I kind of liked it when you were all crying and clingy. It was nice for a change.” He glared down at his pouting brother, “Not being yelled at, or talked to like I was some kind of filthy dog...” Yami scowled back as to which Ankei snorted, “See, like that.” He said, pulling out one of his long-sleeve white button up shirts. Yami was only five feet tall. The King of Aurora was five-foot-nine. Yami would absolutely drown in the overly large shirt. Ankei shrugged. It was all he had. “Put this on.” He said throwing it at Yami’s feet. Yami stared at it.

“That?” he said plainly. Yami looked up, slightly pink in the face. “…I have my own room, with my own things, you know. You’re not going to parade me around half-naked.”

“…You and I both know you only have one outfit.” Ankei teased. Yami flushed, he really did only have one look; long black robes, and more then often a black turtle-neck shirt underneath, which he was currently wearing. “Look… I’ll even get you a towel…” Ankei said, pulling a fluffy blue towel from the cabinet and tossing it over the top of Yami’s head. Yami struggled indigently with it until he managed to pull it off his head. “I’ll even turn around!” Ankei said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He turned his back to his brother, crossing his arms.

Yami glared at his brothers’ tall, elegant form, then down at the towel and shirt in his hands. He flushed darker, scowling at the floor. How did Ankei talk him into these things? After a few attempts to stand, Yami finally managed, using the dresser behind him for support. He glared in his brothers’ direction, but he was being true to his word and not peeking.

It turned out to be extremely difficult for the shaking, trembling half demon to undress himself. His wet clothes seemed to suction to him and his hair kept getting in his eyes. Though after much swearing, grunting and hissing Yami managed to get out of the wet clothes and into the white long-sleeve shirt that reached just above his knees.

“Are you done yet?” Ankei asked, for perhaps the sixth time. He sounded bored, but also slightly amused.

“Yes, idiot.”

Ankei turned around to see his flustered, adorable little brother standing awkwardly in front of the dresser. He was flushed, and the color gave him a healthier look, though it was quite obvious that Yami was distressingly far too thin even for his size. Ankei’s gaze unconsciously roamed his brothers’ figure… What skin that showed on his pale legs was laced with dark ugly scars.

“Your hairs wet.” Ankei commented, stepping close. He chose to ignore those scars. Yami flinched back and moved as if to use the towel to dry his hair, but the motion, he could feel it, lifted the shirt dangerously higher. Yami flushed, dropping his arms and glaring.

“You did that on purpose.” Yami said, glowering.

Ankei rolled his eyes and snatched the towel from the others hand. Yami squeaked and cowered, but he only felt the warmth of the towel over his head. Yami opened one eye and stared up at his brothers’ affectionate look. The blond fluffed Yami’s hair with the towel until he was satisfied that it was dry enough. Yami glared silently at the ground.

“You keep scrunching up your face like that and it’ll stay that way.” Ankei teased. Yami’s glare only intensified. “Easy, easy…” Ankei sighed, tossing the towel on the floor. “Why happened to the cuddly Yami earlier?”

“…He realized he was being a stupid emotional mess.” Yami said flatly.

“…Is that what you call it when one cries?” Ankei asked softly. But then he laughed good-naturedly and tussled his brothers’ hair. “Come on. Sleep time.” Ankei said. It was growing later in the evening after all. Yami started to give him an annoyed stare, but Ankei had swept him up into his arms bridal style before the other could protest.

“What in the bloody hell are you—“ Yami began, surprised.

“Come now!” Ankei said, jolting him higher up into his arms and cutting off his brothers presumably long colorful rant. Ankei deposited the little half demon onto the bed. “Sleep time.” He said. Yami struggled to sit up, but Ankei began pulling the sheets and bed-spread over him. “Sleep time!” He said again.

“I am not a child!” Yami yelled, slapping at his brothers hands. “Unhand me, you stupid dolt!”

Laughing, Ankei leaned in and kissed his brother on the cheek. Yami melted back into the bed, wide-eyed. “Ha!” Ankei exclaimed. “Still like that, do you?”

“Y-you…Y-you stupid…” Yami stuttered, sinking into the bed.

“Just settle.” Ankei said again gently, kissing his cheek again. Yami stared silently, his face pink with embarrassment. “I’m not going to molest you or anything, sheesh. Just go to sleep.”

“But… what about you? This is your bed…” Yami said hesitantly.

Ankei pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Are you inviting me in?”

“I-I...You’re twisting my words!” Yami yelled, glaring. Though, Ankei already had kicked off his shoes and thrown the blankets over himself. Yami edged away, pulling the sheets up to his chin, glaring at him. The blond flicked off the light and settled back into the pillow, listening to the rain pitter-patting against the window.

There was a long silence. “You know… this is the first time I’ve shared my bed with anyone since Mythica died.” Ankei said softly, sadly.

Yami, even though he could barely see anything, glanced away from his brother. That was right… Ankei’s wife had been killed less then two years ago… Around the same time their father had died. Yami shuddered, remembering how devastated and distraught his brother had been after their deaths. He had cried himself to sleep so many nights after that… Yami flushed, feeling guilty. Hadn’t he just said people who cried where just emotional disasters?

“Look—Ankei, I…” Yami started, and then stopped unsure of how to continue. 

“It’s all right, Yami. You don’t have to say anything.” Ankei said kindly. “I know you didn’t mean what you said earlier.”

Yami sighed, shifting in the bed uncomfortably. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was use to cuddling something when he slept. He glanced shyly at his brother, and then with a defeated sigh he started reluctantly, “Ankei… may…I…?”

Ankei was chuckling softly, “Yeah, come here.” He said, shifting so his brother could snuggle up against his side. Yami did so immediately and Ankei let his arm drop around him. They laid in silence for several minutes. “Yami…?”

“Hm…?”

“You can be really sweet when you want to.”

“…Don’t ruin the moment, idiot.”

Ankei laughed, “Yeah, sorry.” He nuzzled his face into his brothers’ soft hair. “Good night, little brother.”

Yami didn’t reply, though he was smiling silently in the dark. For a fleeting moment he wondered what his father would think if he saw his two sons cuddling like this. Yami suppressed a chuckle… Maybe he would laugh?

Lightening flashed and thunder boomed loudly outside.

Or…maybe not.

[Ramirez]



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