The Fatima Curse

Shu sat on the edge of his bed with his hands resting on his knees and a shroud of raven hair falling over his features. He was crying, but the only sign of this was the light tremor that moved through his shoulders. His eyes were hot and burning, and he kept wiping at them angrily, ashamed of himself. The screen of his television was black; a rare occurrence for him. But he didn’t have the heart to pretend he was living someone else’s life. The life of a teenage boy who had no worries and little responsibility. That was a lie; and Shu couldn’t muster consoling himself anymore with his exhausted imagination. There was the sound of footsteps approaching his door, and Shu rolled onto his bed, his jeans riding low on his hips and showing the naked curves that led down into sexier regions. He laid curled on his side, hoping that the footsteps would pass and then taper off. But instead, a light knock came at his door. Shu closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.



“Shuuichi,” a quiet voice said from the other side. Shu breathed out deeply. It wasn’t Uriel. He wasn’t sure if that was relief he felt in his chest, or disappointment. He decided not to pursue it. His door opened, the footsteps louder now as they crossed the carpet. Shu felt his bed gain weight as the uninvited guest took a seat behind him. “Shuuichi. You awake?” It was Allister. The cute little boy who had arrived at base just six months prior. Fourteen and tall for his age. Shu remembered the delicate beauty of his face, and felt an odd mixture of jealousy and want that made his body warm. “What do you want?,” Shu asked the boy. He looked over his shoulder, meeting Allister’s dark blue eyes in the rush of moonlight.



Allister flushed and looked away from Shu’s stare. The boy was older, but that was only part of the embarrassment and shyness Allister felt. Shu had killed before. That was what made Allister so uneasy. Shu had killed; and sooner or later, the same would be asked of him. He knew in his heart this was the truth; but he was having a hard time admitting it to himself. “It’s Uriel,” Allister said hesitantly. And then Shu was sitting up and gripping both of his thin wrists in his deceptively strong hands. Allister gave a small whimper of pain; the same a dog will when its wounded suddenly. “What about Uri?,” Shu demanded roughly.



“You’re hurting me,” Allister whispered; his eyes big and wet. A sheaf of brown hair dropped across his brow and covered one frightened orb. “Stop it, please.” The boy nearly moaned this. Shu let him go suddenly; looking at the purple bruises he’d placed on his wrists with sinking despair in his stomach. Leon was right, Shu thought, Places do change people. They do corrupt and hold people prisoner. I never would have hurt this kid if I hadn’t been here so long. I wouldn’t be strong enough to bruise him just by holding his wrists… A feeling of horror filled Shu.



“Gomen,” Shu said gently. He licked his lips to wet them. His throat felt as though it were lined with sand paper. “What happened to Uri?,” he asked again, and he took Allister’s wrists again. The boy flinched, but all Shu did was lightly massage the swollen skin with the press of his thumbs. “I don’t know, that’s the thing,” Allister said softly, liking the feel of Shu’s thumbs pressing over the nest of veins at his wrists; liking the look of his healthy, naked skin beneath the moonlight even more. “I went to check on him, cause he was so quiet at dinner---”



“That’s just how he is,” Shu overrode absently.



“But he wasn’t in his room. So I thought I should come talk to you, since you’re his partner. I like Uri, he’s always been real good to me. I hope nothing---”



“Trust me, anyone who tried to hurt Uri would be eating out of a straw the rest of their lives.” Or not eating at all, Shu’s mind added morbidly. “Thanks for coming to see me, Allister. I don’t think there’s much to worry about though. He probably just wanted to get a little fresh air. It gets a little stuffy in here in the summer.” Allister was looking up at him; his eyes hurt and too damn young. Shu’s heart shivered. He knew that look. He had seen it in the mirror.



“I don’t want to be here,” Allister said in a thin, watery voice. And then he was crying; and for some reason that defied all of his interior logic, he was holding the boy in his arms. He was thin and wiry; but Shu could feel muscles bunching and shifting beneath his fingers as he held him. “I want my mom,” Allister pitifully pleaded. “I want her back. Why did she leave me all alone here?”



Shu didn’t know what to say. He just held him and let the tears come. After a while, the tears would stop, and emptiness would fill Allister’s soul. Shu began to whisper to him in soft, comforting tones. Telling lies that burned his lips. Chief among these being that everything would be alright.



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Uri couldn’t remember the last time he had been so nervous. It was unlike him to feel out of place, or care what others thought of him. But as he sat in the dimly lit restaurant, he felt exposed; like a wriggled organism beneath a microscope. He could feel their eyes all over him; hungry eyes that just wanted someone to be different. Uri began to unroll his silverware from its neatly wrapped cloth napkin, twisting this in his sweaty hands. It seemed he was full of oddities that transcended his borders this evening; he was dressed in a button up white shirt and a burgundy jacket. He was wearing expensive wing tip shoes and a tie that he kept adjusting with his thick, clumsy, wet fingers. His hair was smoothed back from his brow in an alluring sweep.



“Sir.”



Uri looked up at the host, wincing as though he would be told to vacate the establishment immediately. Did he really think an Arab man could dine with all of these white people? They could probably see the discomfort on his face; not to mention the harsh lines that ran their course beside his lips. The lines that spoke of a life outside of their standards. Uri felt his stomach clench and harden. And for a moment, he was a little boy again. A little brown boy walking the streets with his father’s hand in his own; and people were calling them names. Uri almost called for his father; and how strange… his father had been dead for nineteen years.



“Mr. Fairfax wished me to inform you that he’s running late. Quite a bit of traffic on 43rd street; he wanted you to know that he should be here in fifteen minutes.” The man looked at Uri with carefully masked curiosity. Uri felt the leaden weight in his stomach lift. He was being paranoid, and that was so unlike him. He smiled and nodded politely. “Thank you,” he said, and the host gave a nod of his own before leaving.



“You shouldn’t even be here,” Uri said softly to himself, looking at the mutilated scroll of his napkin and sighing deeply. “You’re out of your element.” But when he thought of Leon walking through the doors and meeting him here; when he thought of them embracing, or even kissing above flickering candlelight before all these watchful eyes, he couldn’t deny the thrilling shiver that crawled his spine. When he thought of Abel finding out, the shiver deepened and emptied through his entire body. But those were concerns for another day. This night would belong to he and Leon, he would see to it. The thought of bending to the wishes of his Master frightened him more than any punishment he might deal out.



“I want to be with him,” Uriel said to himself with a vehement nod. Diners close to him looked to him with curious unease. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting him to be mine.” It sounded convincing. But it felt wrong.



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“Guess who,” a sultry voice said against Uri’s ear, as hands clapped over his eyes. Uri shuddered, reaching one hand up to slide his fingers through warm, silken hair. He could smell his cologne, and just that simple receptive sense was enough to make Uri’s knees weak. “I’ll give you a hint,” Leon whispered, his lips tickling Uri’s ear, “You’ve licked champagne off of me in the last forty eight hours.”



“Grandpa?,” Uri asked; and he melted as Leon laughed into his ear. The sound husky and sexy. Leon slipped to the other side of the table, hand passing across the back of Uri’s neck. He felt his hair stand on end, electrified by the touch; and then, by the sight of him. Leon was dressed in almost the same fashion as Uri, only his jacket was black, and the collar was popped. The simple flip seemed to enhance his features; and something that would have looked vapid and misplaced on Uri looked amazing on Leon. His blonde hair was braided down his back, bangs brushing his milky forehead, laying above his thick lashes and hypnotizing bedroom eyes.



Uri had to restrain himself from taking Leon right then and there.



“I’m sorry I was late,” Leon said. His hand moved across the table and took Uri’s with effortless ease. Uri looked down at their interlocking fingers and felt that hot magnetism begin to swell. He looked into Leon’s eyes deeply; falling there without any hope of saving himself. “That’s alright,” Uri heard himself saying from a long distance. “I ordered you water if that’s alright.”



“As long as it comes with gin,” Leon said with a laugh. “I really could use it tonight.” His thumb passed over Uri’s knuckles. Uri wondered how Leon kept so nonchalant in his actions, when he was burning up from the inside out. “Your friend Shuuichi really impressed me this afternoon,” Leon said with a smile, “He has a beautiful body. But I bet you knew that.” Leon seemed to be hinting at something; Uri could almost read jealousy in his emerald eyes. The idea that those gorgeous eyes could actually be jealous over him made Uri’s heart race.



“No,” Uri said. And then he shook his head. “I mean yes, it’s---” Uri sighed. “Can I be honest with you?”



Leon looked at him patiently.



“You’ve got me so fucking flustered I can’t even remember my name. When I look at you---” Uri felt his cheeks flush. Everything about him was so out of character this night; but he was enjoying it. He liked the taste of anxious fear on his tongue, and the feel of dancing butterflies that were born in his stomach and moved to his throat. It was exciting. “When I look at you, I feel like I’m falling somewhere; and it’s nice. I like it. It makes me feel…” He waved a hand in the air; trying to summon the right word. It never came. What did come was Leon’s hand sliding up to his inner thigh and squeezing. “I know,” Leon whispered, “That’s the way I feel when I see you. If you’re being honest I will be too. I don’t… handle relationships well. Maybe it’s my career, or maybe it’s just me; but most guys that I meet are too intimidated to date me. So I have a lot of experiences in one night stands; a lot of experiences like what you and I had the other day. But---”



“I can’t get you out of my mind,” they said in unison.



They smiled together.



Leon slid his hand higher; and Uri’s sigh was slow and hot. So soft; but drowning out all the noise around them.



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“You wanna come inside?” His voice was suggestive and warm.



“I shouldn’t.”



“I had a great time,” Leon said softly. He came up for a kiss and Uri met him. One brown hand resting on the curve of Leon’s hip, his other sliding to the nape of the blonde’s smooth neck; feeling the pulse and flutter of the veins beneath his touch. Leon moaned to him, his fingers bunching at Uri’s collar, his mouth opening to welcome the press of Uri’s hot, slick tongue. “Come inside,” Leon pleaded, his lips wet and breath hot as it rushed over Uri’s philtrum. “You can stay as long as you want to, Uri.”



Uri wanted to say yes. He wanted to go inside and lay Leon down in his bed and let their wanting bodies find each other in the dark; feel their temperature rise together as their bodies heaved and melted In a sexual dance. But he couldn’t. It wasn’t the thought of Abel that kept his negation firm; but the thought of Shuuichi. “I can’t,” Uri said, not without regret. He laid his burning forehead against Leon’s. “I want to.”



“When will I see you again?,” Leon asked desperately.



“Probably tomorrow,” Uri answered. He saw the dashed hope in Leon’s green eyes and amended himself. “Definitely tomorrow. I have to bring Shu by the club.”



“Stay and watch me,” Leon said hotly, running his fingers through Uri’s hair. “I want you to watch me dance for you, Uri.”



Uri whined low in his chest. His loins were hot, his slacks dangerously tight. Leon’s hand found his need without guidance. His palm cupped with just the right pressure. Uri trembled, panting on Leon’s mouth. “I’ll be there,” Uri promised. His eyes closed.



He missed the dark, dangerous gleam in Leon’s eyes.



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Leon took a shower. A cold shower. His body was on fire, trembling from the inside. He laid his brow against the chilly tile and gripped his stiff cock beneath the icy spray of water overhead. It did little to lessen his arousal; all he could do was pump himself to orgasm and hope that would dissuade his mind from dwelling on the mocha skinned assassin; but he was disappointed. As he climaxed, the warm shudders rocketing through his body and bursting hot, white lightning into his mind and across his eyes, Leon screamed the man’s name.



Shit. But he thought he was falling in love.