Shattered by Broken Dreams
Prologue
Lips of Deceit
A cold, unforgiving wind whistled through the grasping fingers of winter-bared trees; a moaning cry like the lament of a poor mother who had lost her son to the horrors of a hopeless war and could take the pain no longer. The pitiful voice carried recklessly through the forest, rushing through the very heart of it and past its wavering boarders. But who was there to listen? Who was there to hear the heart-wrenching sound? Only the two figures standing amidst tangled bramble and deadened foliage, but they paid it no heed, they couldn’t. Each could only spare his senses for the other; no more; no less.
There was blood on the ground, black and beautiful against the colorless gray of the forest floor, and on the trees; the scent of the thick liquid mingled with sweat and fear and betrayal. Everything was still and quiet and tension hung thick in the air like a cigarette smoke, even the moaning of the wind had stopped as if holding its breath. Leaves crackled and stirred beneath their feet as they snapped into motion, riling the wind back to singing it sad song and blowing the braches back to dancing their mad dance.
They whirled about each other, the first man desperately graceful in his movements as he attacked with fervor he did not have; the second cruelly lissome in his as he ducked and curled in time with the hasty swipes and kicks aimed at him. Finally he pressed the other man up against the uneven trunk of an age-old tree; one pale hand wrapped tightly around a shaky fist that had been thrust out elbow first to make space between them; the other was pressed against the sweating cheek of the first, the action so mockingly tender and sweet.
The two stood there for quite awhile; breath puffed in and out heavily from between parted lips; bodies shook from exertion. And then, the man with the lissome step leaned in and pressed his length against the other; the hand around the barring first forced it to the other’s side, but he wasn’t even fighting anymore. Pale lips, deceptively soft and pouting pressed lightly against ones parted and cherry-red, a pink tongue tracing the seam of the other’s mouth before slipping between the still parted lips. The kiss was as gentle as a caring lover’s but as cold as shattered ice; the caressing fingertips trailed frost wherever they touched but the man beneath him never fought back, never pulled away.
As the man pulled back, a cruel smirk curving his lips, he watched as the man’s crystal blue eyes fluttered open— the slight shimmer of unshed tears brightening the orb— before dipping back in close; his nose ghosted passed the other’s cheek and lightly brushed the opening of his ear, hot breath warming the external organ. Satin lips could be felt, as well as heard, as he whispered something softly to the other in an almost intimate manner. Those silent words seemed to steal the very life from the man pressed against the tree and with one silent cry of utter horror and despair, he collapsed to his knees; his lifeless blue eyes staring blankly out into the space before them.
As the man with the lissome steps departed, he took one last look at the fallen boy and, even though his lips twisted into a cold, malicious smirk, his slate grey eyes showed the path to a weeping heart and haunted soul.
“Fuck, not again,” Naruto whispered as he shook away the remnants of the vague nightmare clouding his consciousness as he pushed himself upright, white sheets pooling around his bare waist. He could feel the sweat drenching his tan flesh trail down his cheeks and drip onto the linens heavily; he was barely aware of the other body stirring beside him until a sleep mangled groan escaped from its throat.
Wha’isit?” a masculine voice slurred as the sleek body it belonged to pushed itself onto toned forearms. Sharp, concerned brown eyes bore into weary blue ones as Kiba— looking far more alert than he sounded— turned on his side to face his lover, one arm still propping him upright. “Another nightmare?”
“Yeah,” the blonde hissed as he roughly raked a shaking hand through his messy hair. The same nightmare had been haunting his sleep for a month solid— coming and going frequently before that— and keeping him from a good night’s sleep for God knows how long. Despite never remembering what had happened in the dreams, he knew it was the same one from every other night because of the way he felt when he woke up: frightened, betrayed and on the verge of tears—or at the very least, shaking like a soaked kitten. He didn’t know what was causing them, but he knew that something was going to happen, something bad and devastating. And it was going to happen soon.
The shaken blonde took a deep, settling breath before falling back against his pillows, draping a strong arm around his lover as he fell, bringing the other down with him. "I'm going back to sleep. I'll worry about it tomorrow." He added the last part when the disgruntled brunette made a sound of protest; he was too tired to deal with his nightmares or his overly protective partner. And as he settled himself back against the bed, snuggled against Kiba, he couldn't get rid of the persistent unease knotting his stomach, an unease that always dissipated with his waking.
Yes, very soon, indeed.