Fatal Trouble : Act 4

That rich, smooth, cultured voice washed over him, whisking him back to a happier time, one where this man had writhed beneath him, that unforgettable voice breaking as passion overtook them both. Xander inhaled sharply, drawing on every ounce of self-control he possessed, and he kept his feet rooted firmly to the ground.

"Yes," he answered at length, wincing at the awkwardness of his tone. He had never been good at verbal expression, and it had never been more evident than now, as he desperately sought the eloquence that had always eluded him. "Raphael..."

"Mmmm?" That auburn head lifted slightly, sending smooth strands of fiery hair dancing across those narrow shoulders, longer than he had ever seen them. "And why, pray tell, did you come?"

Xander's frown deepened at the careless question. "For you," he said finally, forcing himself to be open, intentionally leaving himself vulnerable. "I came here for you."

"Did you?" Raphael tilted head down, only the faintest hint of Michael-blue eyes showing as he peered over his right shoulder. "Why now? Why not eight years ago, when I truly needed you?"

Xander couldn't contain his flinch at the pain those words caused. "I was... not myself that day," he whispered, his too-deep voice harsh with guilt.

Raphael turned then, and Xander gasped as sunlight played over those utterly beautiful, wholly masculine features. "And just who were you?" he asked, his voice taking on an edge. "Will you use Irene to excuse your betrayal of me-of us?"

He bit back the angry retort that sprung to his lips, for it truly didn't matter who had betrayed who first. It couldn't, not if he wanted to eliminate the distance between them. "No." His voice was low, nearly inaudible as he spoke, though Irene had made her presence known in his mind that day. "You had hurt me, broken my heart, shattered my world. I wanted to hurt you in return."

A faintly bitter smile graced those mobile lips. "At least, you admit it."

Xander closed his eyes briefly. "How can I not when it is true?"

He heard the whisper of leather on grass and opened his eyes. Raphael was walking towards him, his stride slow and utterly graceful, much like the cat Xander had long ago likened him to. He was power and heat and everything sensual, a blazing inferno hidden behind soft, glowing azure blue. Xander could only stand and wait, watching his approach with need so great that it was nearly pain. It had always been like this, he thought absently. Raphael had to only look his way and his body reacted. That much, at least, had not changed.

The older, slightly shorter man came to a halt just out of arms length, a move calculated to torment, to tease, as was the come-hither smile. This, he was also familiar with. "You left me to rot," came the hurt, bitter words, hidden beneath a deceptively pleasant tone. "Why should I trust you, now?"

Xander released a slow, quiet breath. "I have changed," he murmured, his cat-like green eyes locking onto the other's. "I am not the same man who turned you away."

"No?" Raphael's smile changed, becoming cold, as he took a step back. He raised his left hand to his face, his beautiful eyes closing, and Xander somehow knew what was coming. A large, feathered wing sprung from Raphael's left shoulder, black as sin, its feathers thick and full and beautiful, as beautiful as the man himself.

Raphael's expression showed challenge as he lowered his arm and smiled wolfishly. "Now, tell me you would not turn from a monster such as myself, one you yourself left to rot?"

Xander could only shake his head, wishing he were able to shed tears, as he saw the damage his angry yet carefully calculated words had caused. "I am sorry," he said in a strangled voice. "I never meant-"

"Tsk, tsk," Raphael scoffed, cutting off the emotional, honest confession in mid-sentence. "Surely, you don't expect me to believe that? After all, your words were designed to wound, were they not?"

"Yes, I've admitted as much." Xander could only step towards him helplessly, reaching out with a suddenly trembling hand, determined to show him what he would not allow to be spoken. "Raphael, please-"

Raphael knocked his hand aside, stepping out of reach once again. "No, no, Xander, you don't get to touch. You lost that right a long time ago."

It was all Xander could do not pounce and force the other man to acknowledge his feelings. He struggled with his more dominant instincts, which clamored for him to claim what was his, and damn the consequences. But that had been a part of the problem before, and he was determined not to repeat those mistakes. His gloved hands clenched into fists at his side, then opened as he finally forced his unruly emotions to calm.

" Koneko," he murmured, using the pet name that had alternately infuriated and pleased the other man, depending on his mood, "don't do this. Don't tear us apart again."

"Don't call me that!" That mocking, infuriating calm was gone now, replaced by the furious fire Xander remembered so vividly. A sword appeared in his right hand, the ruby blade glinting dangerously in the twilight. "Don't you ever fucking call me that, again!"

Xander could no more hold back his smile than Raphael could his anger. "I've missed you, Raph."

"Fuck you, Xander!" Raphael rushed him, intent on doing as much damage as possible, only to scream with outrage as he smoothly stepped out of the way. "Fight me, gods damn you!"