Title : Three Sides to the Coin
Part : prelude / 7 
Part Title : Nighttime Disappointment
Authour : ~sushisama~ (sbolce@esper.com)
Warnings : Yaoi / shounen-ai, my friends! This is an angst fic between Dilandau and Folken, and Dilandau and Van. There isn’t going to be much sexual content, side from some citrus, until the final chapter, which will be lemon.
Disclaimer : Tenkuu no Escaflowne and all characters within in this fic are copyrighted to Sunrise. Don’t bother suing, because even though I have money, it isn’t much.
Notes : First of all, I want to voice my opinion that there should be more Dilandau x Folken fics, damnit. Too many Dilandau x Van fics... Way too many... *cough* Anyways, I’d also like to note that I’ve only seen a little of this series, and then only once. If there are any mistakes, you can both ignore it and bare with me, or you could tell me about it and I will/ will not fix it (depends on if it changes the story to awfully much). Begins before the start of the series (six months or so).

/ / = thoughts [ ] = dreams ( ) = flashbacks

::*~~*::

    Dilandau was unsure what had led him here. He remembered, vaguely, the nightmare he had had earlier that evening, but it was no reason to come here. It would only make him weak, to himself mostly, needing someone after a bad dream. He had so many and had never needed help before; what was different about this one?

    The nightmare wasn’t even that bad. Death... The teenager always saw death when he closed his eyes, blood and fire in his thoughts almost every second of thinking.  There were, of course, exceptions to this. Whenever he was around him, his thoughts differed immensely, turning in directions he never wanted to think about...

    “Folken...” the boy whispered to the sleeping form of his commander, standing next to the bed. Why was he here? A nightmare? That couldn’t be it. There must be something else, something more important to waste his time to see Folken. 

    / Then don’t waste your time, giving him a chance to wake up, / he thought harshly to himself. / Turn around and walk out. It’s that simple. /

    But for some reason, Dilandau found himself rooted to his spot, unable to leave. He cursed himself softly, keeping his eyes on the sleeping man. After what seemed like an eternity (but only three minutes), Dilandau finally made his move; not for the door but closer to Folken’s bed. He calmly slid onto the silk sheets, taking a seat next to his commander’s body. 

    He stared down at the man, memorizing the lines and curves of Folken’s face. The silver-haired boy had seen it so many times, but somehow... didn’t see whenever he did. Seeing him sleeping somehow brought out the natural beauty of the man.

    / Natural beauty...? Where did that come from? / he scolded himself. / This makes me too soft. I need to go. Must leave. Must not let this weaken me... /

    Dilandau finally made a move to stand up when his wrist was caught by Folken’s flesh hand, forcing him to sit back down. The teenager’s eyes widened at the sudden movement and he tried to pull away from instinct. However, Folken just gripped his wrist tighter, opening his eyes, no-longer looking asleep.

    “What are you doing here, Dilandau?” the man’s voice came smoothly, though a little tired.

    “I...” Dilandau hesitated. Again he asked himself, ‘What am I don’t here?’, but his mind would not answer him. He just looked away towards the door, wanting oh-so-much to run back to his chambers right about now.

    Folken sat up, letting go of the child’s wrist. Dilandau saw his chance to run, but for some reason, he was again rooted to his spot. He cursed whatever forces were binding him here against his will. He simply continued to stare at the door, not saying anything, nor moving.

    “Dilandau,” Folken called, “what are you doing here? Are you trying to ruin my rest?” His voice was a some-what littered with jesting, unusual for him. Being tired must make him friendlier, in some strange way, was all the boy could reason.

    “I...” Again, Dilandau failed, not knowing exactly how to get out of this. Folken just stared at him silently, his left brow somewhat cocked in suspicion, waiting for the teen to answer.

    When the silence stretched for what Folken believed was too long, he reached his left hand to gently touch Dilandau’s bare shoulder. The warm contact sent a wonderful shiver down the boy’s spine, one that both chilled and excited him.

    / Excited... / he thought to himself in an amused sense. / That’s why... /

    Before his thoughts could catch up with his body, Dilandau had caught Folken’s wrist and held it gently as he repositioned himself to sit in the man’s lap. When he had one leg in between Folken’s legs and one to the side of his right, he came to rest on his knees and brought the hand he held to his face. He looked up into Folken’s dark eyes to see if he was detesting to this, but the man had a semi-stoic look upon his face and made no gesture for him to stop.

    Somewhat assured he wasn’t going to be pushed away, Dilandau massaged the palm of Folken’s hand with his thumb while his tongue slid out and licked the tip of the index finger. Though Folken’s facial expression did not visibly change, Dilandau could tell that he had sent a shiver into the man, just like how he had just done to the teen a moment ago. Smiling feral, Dilandau took the entire finger into his mouth, sucking on it, nipping it, and licking it. He was slow in his actions, all the while his eyes were locked with Folken’s. The man was closing his eyes half-way, his mouth parted slightly and a contented sigh passing his lips.

    Dilandau give this treatment to each of Folken’s fingers, being agonizingly as slow as he could be. When he felt he had done enough, he gave his palm a quick lick before working his way up the man’s arm with bites and kisses. As he got further, he started to lean closer to Folken, his thigh rubbing up against the man’s groin. This, finally, got a sound from the stoic commander, the moan that escaped his lips pleasant to Dilandau’s hopeful ears. Another pleasant thing was how that groin was reacting to the teen’s ministrations. Oh, Folken seemed to be enjoying this very much.

    Dilandau lingered at Folken’s neck for awhile, giving his commander a deep bite. Above him, he heard Folken give a short hiss, but he did not push him away, meaning he either liked it or was just indifferent to it. Dilandau smiled at that. He made the bite deep enough that it bled a little and he gladly licked up the trail of crimson, the coppery taste over-taking his senses.

    Folken pulled his right leg to him, pulling Dilandau to the junction of his hip and leg, rubbing the youth’s groin against him. Dilandau groaned audibly at the sensation of his erection being felt by something other than his own hand. He pushed his thigh roughly into Folken’s own erection as a reaction to it. Again, the relatively silent man made a moan, pleasing the teenager immensely.

    Dilandau finally came up to lock eyes with Folken, their gazes holding for a long time. They met half-way into a passionate kiss, their tongues instantly lashing out to battle with the other for dominance, Dilandau’s hands instantly coming up to run through Folken’s hair. They explored each other’s mouths while Folken’s flesh hand wound his fingers through the teen’s silver hair. His prosthetic hand moved gently to the small of his back, pushing him deeper into the embrace, Dilandau’s erection again being pulled against his side (which in turn made Dilandau’s leg move closer to his own erection).

    When they pulled away for breath, Dilandau was smiling still, but Folken looked unphased still. This upset Dilandau a little, and he frowned in response, asking, “Is something wrong, Folken? Do you not like this?”

    “We should not do this,” Folken said simply in a matter-of-fact tone. “It is a distraction. We should let ourselves fall into such... business.”

    Dilandau smiled some to that. He brought down one of his hands to run along Folken’s bare, muscled chest. “Sometimes a distraction is nice...” His hand traveled down to Folken’s lower half, touching the man’s erection with a feather-light grace. Folken inhaled sharply, his eyes closing briefly. Dilandau’s smile grew. “And apparently, you want one as well.”

    Folken took Dilandau’s hand into his own. “Regardless, it is still a distraction, Dilandau. You should not be doing this. I should not be doing this.”

    Dilandau took on a face of mock-hurt. “Are you saying you deny wanting me?” He grinned. “Because I think you’d be lying then.”

    “I deny nothing, Dilandau,” Folken said calmly. “I just think that no good will come of this. You should go back to sleep.”

    Dilandau leaned in close, nose to nose with his commander. “And if I like where I am?” He ground his thigh against Folken once more, just to hear the groan of pleasure that escaped the man’s lips. “And if you like where I am, too?”

    Folken closed his eyes at the feel of Dilandau so close. He was quickly weakening... / Get him off, before something happens... / Taking a great deal of will, Folken put his arms underneath the child’s arms (gently with his right hand especially) and lifted Dilandau off his lap and to the side of him while slipping a way himself. 

    Dilandau did not feign hurt like last time, but had a real look of disappointment. “You can’t be serious, Folken. We’re just going to stop?”

    “Yes, before anything else happens,” Folken replied, lacking emotion. “Now get out. I don’t want you to do this again.”

    “But, Folken,” Dilandau pleaded, “if you want me and I want you, what’s there to care about? So what if it’s a distraction? At least it’s a good one. Come on.” Again he leaned in close, stealing a kiss before Folken shoved him away.

    “Go,” Folken commanded in an icy tone. “Go back to sleep, Dilandau. Forget about it.”

    Dilandau took on an expression of anger, his teeth gritted in frustration. “Fine!” he nearly shouted. He stood up abruptly, his fists clenched in anger. “Doesn’t mean I’ll forget it. I will get what I want, Folken, one way or another.” With that, he turned on his heel and stomped out the door, slamming it behind him. He walked hastily down to his chambers, cursing all the way.

    “Hate you.... Hate you... I hate you so much, Folken,” he hissed to himself. “You’ll suffer for rejecting me. I’ll have it so you beg for me to have you. I hate you, Folken.  Hate you.”

    Back in his room, Folken felt guilty about leading the teen on as far as he had, and about not finishing it. Now he had an erection that wouldn’t go away, especially with images of Dilandau doing more than pleasant things to him dancing around in his head. He ended up taking away the strain the only way he knew how – with his hand – all the while pleasurable images of the teenager writhing beneath him in ecstasy running in his thoughts.

    Sighing once he was done and had a mess he honestly didn’t feel like dealing with, the commander laid back down, his seed still on his hand, the scent of it still in the air. He was plagued of images of Dilandau and could not get to sleep for an hour. Once he did, though, he did not escape: his dreams were full of the pyromaniac, and all of the things he could do to him...