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Stages of Love-- Mamoru, Nagi, NC-17 - Do You Have Another Stupid Question? — LiveJournal
It's Not Lunch at Tiffany's, Honey

full-throttle narcissist
Date: 2005-06-07 13:11
Subject: Stages of Love-- Mamoru, Nagi, NC-17
Security: Public
Tags:fic, mamoru, nagi, omi, wk
Seven related fics about the Seven Deadly Sins, one a week. I asked for and got permission to use the Fibonacci numbers, and I found it really helpful until I got to the last fic-- 1300 words was a big jump. I wanted it posted here so it'd be easier to add to memories, and in case anyone had missed it who'd like to read it.


Omi was too busy puking up seawater at first to see who was watching him. His head throbbed.

"Sleeping Beauty wakes." Nagi, amused. His shirt was open, half-wrenched-off by the sea.

Omi thought back. "You weren't trying to kill me; that was show. Why?"

"Eszett thinks we're dead now. We're free."

"Crawford said you wanted to cause chaos."

Nagi smirked. "You think having us free won't?"

Weiss was ashamed of who they'd become, what they were.

Nagi's pride stunned him.

Nights later, staring at the ceiling, he would tell himself that there was absolutely nothing about it he found attractive.


Nagi had never hated a job so much.

Day after day, night after night, of endless repetition; Armani suits, 500-count Egyptian cotton sheets, overpriced food that tasted like all the other overpriced food, the sterile feel of air conditioning.

Omi-Mamoru-Persia treating him with that odd, undecided mix of friendliness and contempt.

Crawford and Schuldig sent messages in code: We'll be in place soon. Wait.

The rumors he'd heard had them on the run, living hand to mouth, sharing tiny motel rooms even the roaches were too good for.

Nagi envied them every time Persia sent him another false, too-intimate smile.


Nagi flipped over the paperwork and frowned. "I don't like it. I'm not doing it."

"You--" You don't have the right to refuse this came and died on his lips. "You're needed."

"I'm not doing it."

"This rendezvous is essential."

Nagi put the paperwork down and shook his head. "I work by my choice, or I don't work at all."

"You don't have the right to veto--"

"I work for you," Nagi said, and something shifted in the air. "I'm not your slave."


"Why do you care so much, Omi? Oh, wait--" he paused theatrically-- "you killed him last mission."

Mamoru didn't hit people. He didn't have to. His weapons were distance, stealth, intelligence. All he wanted to do was plow his fist into Nagi's face. No one talked to him like that. Not any more. He was Persia now. He gave up everything to be Persia. Nagi acted like it meant nothing to him.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you with my lack of obedience," Nagi said sharply. "Go send Weiss to get killed. Not me." The door slammed behind him.

When Mamoru unclenched his fists, his nails had made tiny half-circles on his palms.


What a shock that things hadn't gone as expected. He'd told Mamoru he wouldn't do it; shouldn't that have been hint enough?

Nagi was surrounded by idiots, Mamoru included. The blind leading the stupid.

At least Ran was still alive, so he wouldn't have to hear them whining about that. Nagi had taken Mamoru and told the others to find their own way back.

Ran had asked if he was enough security on his own. Nagi almost laughed.

Mamoru was still sleeping off the drugs in the seat beside him, but his breathing had more life to it. They'd have to dye his hair. Maybe cover the white with blond or red; that would be believable of a Japanese boy his age, especially in America.

He was not thinking at all that it would be attractive.

It'd be funny, more than anything; dying his hair, putting him in jeans and a t-shirt with an obnoxious gaijin slogan.

Maybe blue, like his eyes.


Mamoru moaned a little. Nagi ignored him.

Clothes. Hair dye. Motel. Food. Ditch the car somewhere. Maybe walk or hitchhike for a while to get the last of the drugs out of Mamoru's system.

He thought of Mamoru's weight against his arm and swallowed hard.

Dye first, at one of those ubiquitous American convenience stores. Clothes at the mall; there had to be a mall around somewhere. Motel.

One room. For safety. Nagi would take the bed by the window.

Or maybe the door.


"...nagi-kun?" Nagi glanced over. Mamoru blinked stupidly at him, like a drunken kitten.

Blue, blue eyes.

Sunglasses. Can't buy them with the hair dye, that'd be too obvious.

"Is everyone else--"

"They're fine. I made them split up. Idiots."

"Thank you," Mamoru said.

Nagi forced his eyes back onto the road.


Mamoru couldn't figure out how things had gone so wrong so fast.

And then to wake up to Nagi with that "I told you so" look on his face...but the drugs had swallowed most of his anger and shame, and he was grateful to not be alone.

They ditched the car and Mamoru's suit a couple miles from the highway and passed themselves off as hitchhikers for a while. Nagi had gotten them a motel room with a credit card he assured Mamoru was clean. Mamoru hadn't been sure they should stop, but he'd known they were both too exhausted to go any further without some food and rest.

Mamoru hugged his arms; the room was cold. At least it was clean.

Nagi came back in with a couple of burgers and a big box of fries so greasy they left dark stains through the paper. "Nagi...."

"They won't be any good if you eat them cold," he said. "C'mon."

They were good. Mamoru hadn't eaten food this cheap since Weiss; he'd forgotten the simple pleasure of it.

He felt better when he'd finished his burger, and on an impulse he popped one of the remaining fries into Nagi's mouth. For once, Nagi didn't take it as an insult; he just smiled, and chewed, and grabbed a fry of his own to feed to Mamoru.

They could never remember, later, exactly whose finger had slid into whose mouth first, or how the teasing had progressed to touching, movement, greedy, wet kissing, Nagi's body pinning Mamoru to the bed.

"We should rest," Mamoru said, as Nagi pulled his t-shirt over his head.

"We'll sleep better this way."

But it had been too good to fall asleep, even after they'd both come in Nagi's hand, after Nagi had run out to the seven-eleven and bought the only lube and condoms he could find, after they'd figured out the bathtub was too small for two people but the shower worked okay, after they'd collapsed on the bed, exhausted again, too tired to do anything but touch.

They finally fell asleep watching TV, curled in each other, in the bed next to the window.

Mamoru woke up first. He used the bathroom, turned the TV off, got some water, watched Nagi sleep.

At some point they'd pulled the sheet up, and it was bunched around Nagi's waist, cheap white fabric setting off Nagi's pale skin and dark hair.

Getting breakfast would be helpful and productive, and probably far less hazardous to his long-term health than trying to wake Nagi up.

On the other hand, he'd almost died already yesterday, so maybe he didn't have that much to lose.

He stroked Nagi's back, and flinched as Nagi flipped over, froze for half a second as Nagi's expression vacillated between 'fuck' and 'kill' and settled on 'fuck.'

Nagi's arms snaked out and pulled Mamoru back into bed. Mamoru straddled him, felt wild and hard and needy. "My turn on top," he said.

Nagi smiled. "Yeah."

Not Today

They don't want to risk airport security, so they buy a cheap four-door in Arizona with cash and run it until it dies. From there it's more hitchhiking, a couple of buses, a rusting purple truck that makes Mamoru laugh every time he sees it. They buy sleeping bags and camping stuff one night at Wal-Mart and screw on the flatbed of the truck, Mamoru smiling and relaxed beneath him. Nagi wonders if this, finally, is who Mamoru really is.

They call, once in a while, back to Japan, and talk in code to Rex, who tells them warily not to come back yet.

On one hand, Nagi is not entirely sure he trusts Rex; on the other, he's pretty sure he doesn't care.

"We have to go back," Mamoru will say sometimes, but lazily, like he doesn't really mean it.

They are Japanese college students, seeing the whole country before they go to MIT in the fall for software engineering (Mamoru's lie). People are, for the most part, overwhelmingly nice to them, though Mamoru is still adjusting to the different tempos and temperatures of the States, to the odd standoffishness of Americans, to the occasional glare they get from some idiot gaijin who doesn't realize Nagi could kill him in a heartbeat.

Nagi thinks of Crawford, sometimes, wonders where he came from-- he never would say-- what, if anything, of the small towns and gas stations and cool nights would be familiar to him. They stayed in cities when they went to the United States; Nagi and Mamoru have deliberately stayed clear of most of them. Too many people, too many chances for someone to recognize a missing Japanese politician.

They should've been out of cash a month ago, but what Mamoru doesn't know about emptied cash machines won't hurt him. They buy books at yard sales and thrift stores, and Nagi still has his laptop, so they can leech at Net cafes and bookstores. The weather is nice, so they stick to campgrounds, cheap road food, though sometimes they'll splurge somewhere, or buy burgers and grill.

Mamoru is a better cook than Nagi, but Nagi's superior at putting out the fires.

One night when it's cold and rainy they get a motel room with one of the few clean credit cards they have left.

Rex tells them it's safe to go back the next morning.

They lie on the bed for a while, faint light coming in through the greasy windows and the cheap polyester shade.

Mamoru just stares up at the ceiling, his eyes wide.

"You don't really have to. We could do it. MIT, class of...whatever."

"I have to go back there. You don't," Mamoru said. "You could...."

"Don't you need me?" Nagi asks, not bothering to keep the edge out of his voice.

"Probably." Mamoru rolled onto his back. "But you don't have to." He swallows. "I don't...you don't have to. Not if you don't want to."

"What do you want?" Nagi rises up on his elbows to catch Mamoru's eyes. "Do you even know?"

"It's not about what I want," Mamoru says, the old hollowness back.

"Maybe it should be." Nagi moves closer. "Don't decide today."


"Kritiker's survived this long," Nagi says, leaning in, breathing on the join of Mamoru's neck and shoulder. "It'll survive a day longer."

Mamoru shudders-- he's so sensitive there-- and Nagi dips his head down to lick at the knob of his collarbone. "Nagi-kun, I should--"

"Shh," Nagi says between kisses, as Mamoru's hand reaches up and grabs the cotton of his boxers. "Don't."

"I don't like being manipulated."

"I'm not manipulating you," Nagi says irritably. "If I was manipulating you, you never would've called Rex."

"Oh," Mamoru says.

Shit, Nagi thinks, and wonders if there's any distracting Mamoru with sex now.


The truth surprises Nagi. "You've liked it," Nagi said. "You liked it even before we started fucking. Didn't you?"


Nagi reaches down and tugs off his boxers. "So."

"So you want to make me happy?"

Shit. "I--"

Mamoru smiles like a cat about to strike. "Don't decide today," he says, and Nagi kisses him, hard, to shut him up.

Greedy Like You

He would never have suspected how difficult it would be to bring Nagi into his office Tuesday afternoon and not think about Monday night.

Nagi sat down, crossed his legs, professional as always.

As if he hadn't tried his telekinesis last night; as if Mamoru hadn't come so hard he'd been afraid of blacking out; as if Nagi hadn't stayed, for the first night since they'd returned.

It wasn't the time to think about any of those things.

Mamoru set the audio player in front of Nagi and pressed play.

"...and Crawford?" The recording was tinny and faint, but Nagi's voice was clear enough.

"All over the place. Still asking me to kill him," Schuldig's voice, rougher than Mamoru remembered.

"You should just give him what he wants."

"I can't," he said. "I'm greedy. Like you are."

No reply from Nagi.

"You sure you want this, kid?" Schuldig said. "It sucks."

"I know," Nagi said.

Mamoru turned off the tape. Why didn't you tell me? he thought. How long have you been hiding this? What he finally asked was, "What's wrong with Crawford?" He'd been wondering ever since he'd first heard the tape, with Javanese standing in front of him like she'd won a prize and was ready to be rewarded. Rex had glared at her on the way out, showing in her face what Mamoru was feeling.

Nagi looked at the floor. "Brain damage, they think. Maybe from injuries when we brought Eszett down, maybe just fried from the precognition; it happens. Schuldig says he floats in and out. He didn't recognize me the time I came to see him. Mostly what's clear are the visions."

"That's awful," Mamoru said.

"Schuldig should probably kill him," Nagi said, sounding unconvinced.

"You wouldn't though," Mamoru said. "You'd just let him be there, half-alive, hoping he'd snap out of it someday."

"I don't know."

"...but that's exactly what you're doing now."

Nagi looked at him, just a slight widening of his eyes giving him away. "I--"

"You don't want this. You can walk away from this any time you want to. And you're still here. That's what you were talking with Schuldig about. You're greedy. Like him."

"Mamoru," Nagi said. Something rattled on the desk.

"You're here," he said, and reached out for Nagi. Nagi flinched, and something behind him shattered.

"What do you want, Nagi?"

Nagi looked angry. "Are you sure you want to know the answer? It's not like you know what you want."

I just want you, Mamoru thought, and hated himself for it. Kritiker has been changing the world, or trying to, and he had friends to protect and people to take care of and then Nagi looked at him and all of it paled and Mamoru just wanted.

Maybe he was greedy too.

"How'd you find out?" Nagi asked. "Javanese?"


"I thought it was her surveillance." Nagi leaned back in his chair. "She won't be able to find them. You probably could."

"I won't." He looks down at the paperwork on his desk. "But...I think maybe you should go. There will be concerns about a security breach, about where your loyalties lie...." He picked something up, something important. He couldn't focus on what it was, on what the words said. Rex had said something to him his morning, and that had been important too, and he couldn't remember any of it. What he remembered was that Nagi woke up before him this morning and made coffee, and it had been hot and strong and he'd almost burned his tongue and Nagi had kissed him afterward.

Nagi got up. "There's a story. It's a Russian folktale. They made us learn it at Rosenkreuz." He walked over and sat on the edge of the desk. "There was a peasant, you see, who was clever at riddles. So clever she impressed the Tsar, and they were married. She had one provision put in her wedding contract: That she be allowed to take the thing she liked best if they ever divorced. Well, the ladies at court resented having a peasant as the Tsarina, and they spread rumors about her. Nasty stuff. The Tsar didn't want to believe it, but it was so prevalent after a while he thought it must be true, and he threw her out of the palace-- exiled her to Siberia, something like that.

"He got kidnapped that night. He came out of the box he'd been thrown in, and there was the Tsarina. He screamed and cried about treason, and she said, 'you said I could take the thing I liked best when I go. And that's you.' And all the rumors and lies were forgotten, and they went back to the palace together. Happily ever after.

"We always figured the lesson was 'always make sure you're smarter than the people you're working for.'" He pushed his hair out of his eyes.

"People like us don't live happily ever after," Mamoru said.

"No," Nagi said. "But I'm damned if you'll to rot to death alone."


The last thing Mamoru remembered was Nagi moving and the windows blowing out.

They said they came from Tokyo. They were the crushes of half the department; slim, attractive, smart, unfailingly polite to the professors and secretaries. General consensus was that they only had eyes for each other, but it didn't stop some of the staff from dreaming: "Maybe," Jean said wistfully, "they'd just let me run the video camera."

They had an apartment off-campus, meticulously clean, stacked with books and computer equipment. They had no security system; none was needed.

They ate at the campus coffeeshop, had a few friends and study groups once in a while, but mostly they kept to themselves.

They should have been bored.

They weren't.

Schuldig woke up at three am, thinking at first it was the thunder. When he realized it was nothing of the kind, he got up and walked over to Crawford's bed, knitted Crawford's fingers in his own.

"I understand," Crawford said, sounding more lucid than he had in months. "Why you wouldn't--"

"Shut up," Schuldig said, and squeezed Crawford's hand. He could feel all the bones in his fingers, and they felt so fragile in his grip.

"At least the children are happy. Kritiker really thinks they're dead. Morons." Crawford opened his eyes for a moment. "You know, they're in my hometown?"

"You're kidding me--"

But Crawford was already gone.

Schuldig closed Crawford's eyes and stepped back as the hospital staff rushed in. He walked out the door, out of the hospital.

It was raining in Yamagata, big fat drops hitting the pavement. Schuldig pulled out a cigarette anyway; he'd quit years ago, when Crawford would share ghoulish details of his death from lung cancer any time he itched to light up. When Crawford's mind started frying, he'd decided he didn't really care any more.

Be greedy, Nagi, he thought as the lighter flared. Don't ever fucking stop.

Haru was sitting on their bed looking out the window when Ben came home, his knees tucked up underneath him.

There was something so wrong in his posture. "You okay?"

"Crawford's gone," Haru said. "I mean, I'm sort of glad, but...." Ben kissed him at the nape of his neck and Haru turned into the touch. "Yeah," he said. "Please."

Ben pushed him into the mattress and slid his shirt over his head.

The aftermath was a blur, both of them shaking, Ben's kisses sour with Haru's taste as they sank back down on the bed, tangled together, Haru's hands tangling into Ben's hair, the comforter bunched up underneath them.

"I'm skipping class tomorrow," Haru said, his hand on Ben's chest.

"You want to be alone?"


Ben wrapped his arms around Haru. "Good."

Special thanks-- again, to quixotic_sense, who caught some sloppy characterization and just was overall a huge help. ::hugs::
Speak your mind | 32 Spoke | | Link

Practically everyone is
User: lindentreeisle
Date: 2005-06-07 19:22 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
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full-throttle narcissist: f33r the pretty (Weiss Kreuz)
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2005-06-07 19:41 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:f33r the pretty (Weiss Kreuz)
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Black Leather and Pearls
User: maeritrae
Date: 2005-06-07 20:00 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Waaaaah! Poor Crawford and Schuldig! But lucky lucky Omi and Nagi. *sniff*
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full-throttle narcissist: Crawford/Schuldig true friend (WK)
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2005-06-07 20:11 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:Crawford/Schuldig true friend (WK)
Hey, some people live their whole lives without finding true love just the right person to kill people with. At least they had that. Plus it toned the sap down a little OMG.
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(no subject) - (Anonymous)
full-throttle narcissist: Yohji (Weiss Kreuz)
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2005-06-08 00:38 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:Yohji (Weiss Kreuz)
Yeah, that thought kind of totally crossed my mind.

I was afraid the happy ending wasn't going to work but I was happy with it in the end. It's all credit to Yasmin, really, she was a huge help.
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Emoticons cannot convey my hilarity
User: mendax
Date: 2005-06-07 21:18 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
This is absolutely lovely. The progression of emotional tone is really affecting. (And the smut is tres hot.) The Schuldig/Crawford references serve as a beautiful foil, and Schuldig's thought to Nagi as he's leaving the hospital made me all sniffly.
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full-throttle narcissist: Nagi I can kill you (Weiss Kreuz)
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2005-06-08 00:40 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:Nagi I can kill you (Weiss Kreuz)
Thank you. I originally had more of the cast in but Yasmin convinced me to pull them out and focus more, thank goodness. I really can't give her enough credit for her help on that last piece.
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(no subject) - (Anonymous)
full-throttle narcissist: f33r the pretty (Weiss Kreuz)
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2005-06-08 01:03 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:f33r the pretty (Weiss Kreuz)
Thank you!
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Daegaer: nagi  - telekinesis by auguris
User: daegaer
Date: 2005-06-07 23:50 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:nagi - telekinesis by auguris
These are so great, and it's wonderful to see them all together. I'm all teary-eyed over Schuldig and Crawford, and Nagi's very Nagi-ish solution to seeing Mamoru's heart breaking.

Fantastic, all of them.
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full-throttle narcissist: never look back (Weiss Kreuz)
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2005-06-08 01:02 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:never look back (Weiss Kreuz)
Oh, thank you.
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User: animadri
Date: 2005-06-08 03:10 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
So beautiful! This is my first time reading them all together like this. And I'm such a big sap that I ended up crying after Crawford passed away. I mean, seriously bawling. *blushes* Wah! Poor Schuldig. Great job, sweetie.
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full-throttle narcissist: Omi/Nagi and the image that started a fa
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2005-06-08 10:30 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:Omi/Nagi and the image that started a fa
::hands you a kleenex::

Thank you!
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etc., interrupted: friendship
User: quixotic_sense
Date: 2005-06-08 03:21 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
No worries. I'm glad I was able to be of help. *g*
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full-throttle narcissist: never look back (Weiss Kreuz)
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2005-06-08 10:29 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:never look back (Weiss Kreuz)
You were such a big help! (I hope you like it now!)
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User: elfiepike
Date: 2005-06-08 07:51 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
oooooo. i like this. you've accomplished quite a bit of characterization in these bite-size (or at least appetizer-size, or buffet-plate, you know what i'm saying; this is a poor metaphor) pieces. they disappear and go to MIT! oh, awesome.
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full-throttle narcissist: Nagi I can kill you (Weiss Kreuz)
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2005-06-08 10:28 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:Nagi I can kill you (Weiss Kreuz)
Thank you! I don't think it's MIT in the end, though. I think they're in California somewhere. Whee! Also, Ryuk love!
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(no subject) - (Anonymous)
full-throttle narcissist: Omi/Nagi and the image that started a fa
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2005-06-15 02:07 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:Omi/Nagi and the image that started a fa
Oh, thank you.
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(no subject) - (Anonymous)
full-throttle narcissist: Yohji (Weiss Kreuz)
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2005-09-27 11:46 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:Yohji (Weiss Kreuz)
I like the fics that explore the possibility of burnout-- with all that power it seems unlikely there'd be no price, sadly. viridian5 has a tremendously sad one about Shuldig.

...oh, and Shuldig found a hot amnesiac to seduce. Heh.
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User: gracelessone
Date: 2005-10-23 02:09 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
oh wow, I had read the first one but somehow didn't realize there were more! I adore this...

"People like us don't live happily ever after," Mamoru said.

"No," Nagi said. "But I'm damned if you'll to rot to death alone."

I love the fact that Nagi and Mamoru ended up in Crawford's hometown
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full-throttle narcissist: f33r the pretty (Weiss Kreuz)
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2005-10-24 00:16 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:f33r the pretty (Weiss Kreuz)
Thanks so much!
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User: threewalls
Date: 2007-05-29 07:17 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Guh. I'm reading this again, or perhaps I missed it the first time round, because I can't believe I wouldn't have commented earlier.

What happened to Crawford, and Schuldig, kills me. His cigarettes, and just-- something so little as that and you've nailed his grief perfectly (and somehow, the overt sexuality of Nagi and Mamoru's story in contrast to how sexless Crawford and Schuldig are-- yes, grief, for the death of a partner, not merely a lover, not that Nagi and Mamoru are just lovers, but--). Which is possibly not the main point, but they're my OTP here.

I really liked how even though Nagi and Mamoru have their US roadtrip adventure, Mamoru goes home rather than leaving right then. I expected them just to stay running, but it needed going back-- finding everything was still wrong, and that he couldn't stay knowing what else there could be. That he had to learn how to want first, to be able to leave.

In general, there's something in your prose here that makes it all feel a bit drabble-like to me, and for which I also have much love. Compact, for want of a better word, when the story itself is quite long. Perhaps they're all just so reserved that there has to be so much seething, held just in check, between and beyond the lines.

I'm also a geek for your doing something Fibonacci.
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full-throttle narcissist: tiny gay men (Weiss Kreuz)
User: mistressrenet
Date: 2007-06-01 01:00 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:tiny gay men (Weiss Kreuz)
Thank you so much!

Someone had said something about the sequence, and I was finding a set of drabbles too confining, so! I think it worked out well.
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June 2007