Disclaimer:  I don’t own Digimon.  (Cynical look)  I will when I take over this sorry planet, but I don’t own it right now.

Notes:  This is a Kenkai from a very different perspective.  Mine.  I chose to look at the doppelgangers relationship a few years down the line (they’re 18 in this fic.)  They’d start off hating each other with a bloody good passion by I’m sure their relationship would evolve over the years.  This is an evolved state of their relationship.  Also, did I mention this is a lemon?  A yaoi lemon, no less.  If this isn’t your bag, don’t read this.

Only You

            “In you I see dirty, in you I count stars.  In you I feel so pretty, in you I taste god.  In you I feel so hungry, in you I crash cars.  We must never be apart.”                                                                                       -The Smashing Pumpkins, “Ava Adore”

            I remember the first time we made love.

            It was beautiful.  I had wanted him for so long without letting myself admit it.
            He had run his hand through my indigo-black hair, then placed both of them on my cheeks and pulled me toward him.  His lips met with mine and he kissed me.  I kissed him back.
            The kiss felt so right even though I knew it wouldn’t be approved of.  Some would even find it disgusting.  But I wanted him.  I wanted him to want me and hold me and kiss me and touch me and fuck me and worship me. 
            I remember how he looked under the dim electric light.  He was an earth angel, his blue hair his halo.  His bittersweet nightshade eyes stared into mine that were the same color.  His eyes had always held my fascination.  One minute they would be molten sorrow, the eyes of a scarred, raped child.  The next they would be two chunks of passionflower colored icy fire.

            Once, when we were 15, he talked me into sneaking into a nightclub with him.  We had ID claiming we were 21, just in case.  He sneaked us in through a bathroom window.  That was the night I discovered I had a taste for White Russians.
            He wound up carrying me home on his back just like Kaji did with Misato in that Evangelion episode.  I pressed my face into his shoulder to quell the nausea and he yelled at me for getting drunk.
            I remember some of the things he said.  “What are you, stupid??”  “I should have known better than to take you.”  “I should have just left you there.”  “White Russians of all things!”  “If you throw up on me...”  “I hate you, you know that??”  “Moron.”  “Git.”  “Wanker.”  “Fool.”  Then he sighed and put me down.  He turned around and moved a chunk of my long, black hair out of my face.
            “But I have nothing but love for you, Ken.  And I hate that.”  Even though I was drunk I was shocked.  It was not like him at all to say something like that, back then more than now.  He prided himself at being a cold, sadistic genius.  What he had said wasn’t like him.  Not one bit.
            I was drunk so I didn’t care too much.  I collapse into his arms, not so much because of the milk and vodka, but because I wanted him to hold me at the moment.  We stood there on the sidewalk like that for about a minute, and then I fell asleep in his arms. 

            But then I finally had him.  My wish finally came true.  I had nibbled at the skin of his neck like I wanted to devour it.  He kissed my ear then decided to take a nibble himself. 
            He wrapped my arms around my naked torso and pulled me up to him and kissed me demandingly yet somehow hesitant.  Pretty soon I was on my back again.  His mouth left mine and the tip of his tongue found it’s way down my neck to my chest.
            “Kai...” I had managed to whisper.

            “Kaiser?” I had whispered once while proceeding into the bathroom cautiously.  I had been looking for him for sometime at that point.  I remember as I opened the bathroom door I felt a sharp stinging pain in my left wrist.
            I ran in and he was sitting Indian style in the bathtub with no water and all his clothes on.  He had a disposable razor and was digging at his left wrist.  I ran across the small bathroom and snatched the razor away from him.  I jumped back because he did one of his snarling growls and lunged at me in desperation.
            He didn’t get to cut deep enough, so it didn’t do any real damage.  The blood was starting to clot already.  But my wrist still hurt like I had cut it open myself.  It made me curious. 
            I remember he was leaning over the edge of the tub at that moment.  I put the razor to my thumb, braced myself and slashed.  I slashed my thumb open and he reacted, just like I thought he would. 
            “Ow!” he snarled and put his thumb in his mouth.  Then he pulled it out when he realized it wasn’t bleeding.  He saw there was no physical damage, even though it hurt like hell.  Then noticed my bleeding thumb and it connected for him too.
            He leaned back in the tub contemplating this.  It meant that I had power over him, but it also meant he had that same kind of power over me. 
            “Stupid.  You could have gotten the artery,” he said coldly, his blue-violet eyes narrow and blazing, shooting daggers into nothing.

            We found out that night he went wild when the base of his spine was licked.  I found that out on accident, but nevertheless, it was there. 
            I licked the bottom of his spinal cord while he lay there, breathing hard.  Occasionally, he would yell something or laugh.  I like the way he laughed that night.  His laughs were usually harsh and dominating.  Sharpened nails always seemed softer.  But then his laughter was lighthearted and happy.  It made me love him all the more.
            I was lying there too, my body slung partially over his back, my legs next to his right arm.  At one point he reached his hand over and touched my thigh, slowly moving his hand up, just touching me with his fingertips.  He moved it further up until his hand was between my legs and had two fingers inside of me so I was breathing as hard as he was.  I was trying to keep my tongue on his spine, but it was indeed a test. 

            Kaiser has always been a natural at causing a scene.  With that gift he was also granted another gift.  He could ignore anyone else’s scene.  You don’t know what it’s like to be ignored till you’ve been ignored by Kai. 
            He also had a love for bothering (bothering’s a nice way to put it) my friends, especially Daisuke.  But especially Miyako.  He said she was a sorry version of Asuka Langly Sohryu from Evangelion.  One day he got a great opening.
            “Miyako!” he said, making sure he was loud enough for every one around us to hear.  “It’s ok that you’re really a man!”
            Miyako turned blood red, a deep crimson hue.  We were all waiting in line for tickets to Utada Hikaru at the time.  Narrow minds edged away and protective people moved their significant others somewhere else.  Kai smiled sadistically and continued.
            “I’m open minded here!  It’s not the Dark Ages anymore!  Chicks with dicks are cool!  Come out of the closet already!”  People with supposed chicks with dicks fetishes eyeballed her greedily. 
            “We’re all opened minded here!  Don’t be ashamed ‘cause you still have your penis!”
            I was really starting to feel sorry for Miyako so I decided to do something.  I decided to bite my hand.  I bit it hard, getting the flesh and bone right underneath my pinky.  Kai let out a startled, painful yelp, and then looked at his hand.  He knew immediately what had happened and spun around to glare at me, rubbing his hand.  I was rubbing mine.

            That night the bed was our safe haven.  A tangle of flesh and flannel sheets protected us from a disapproving world.  He was on top of me then, inside of me.  My legs were wrapped around his lower torso and he looked down at me in pleasure.  I pulled him down for a kiss and we shared a sloppy one.  Then he bit my neck hard.  It hurt like hell.  He drew blood; a lot of blood.  A pillowcase, the pillow inside and the sheets were stained. 

            One day, when we still shared a room, I had come home from Daisuke’s house around 9 pm, and he was all sprawled out, asleep in my bed.  He had a pair of headphones and his Discman lying beside him, not to mention a book titled The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich.  He looked like he climbed up there to read and listen to music and just crashed.  Why he had to do it on my bed I don’t know, but at the moment it pissed me off.
            He was wearing his layers of worn out clothes that he loved, so even though he was on top of the covers he looked warm and comfy.  I reached up and poked him.  His left bittersweet nightshade eye opened, leaving a layer of sleep film.
            “What?” he mumbled, looking at me with the one eye.
            “You’re in my bed.”
            “I know.  It’s just really warm up here.”
            “I know.”
            “You want me to get out?” he asked.  He looked so cute there so I thought I’d let him stay.  He was slowly waking up.  His other eye opened.
            “No.  It’s ok.  You can stay.  Go back to sleep.”  Kai yawned and shut his eyes.  I left, took a shower and changed into my pajamas.  I went back into my room and he was under the covers on my bed in a pair of pajamas.  He left his clothes in a pile in the middle of the floor.  I hate it when he does that.  I kicked his clothes to the corner next to the laundry basket.
            I looked up at him.  He was just so cute when he was sleeping.  I crawled into his bed and was gone.

            My back arched and I let out a silent scream as I let go.  He followed fight after me.  He stayed there, above me, breathing heavily.  The he collapsed and was lying right next to me.  We covered ourselves with a flannel sheet.  I looked over at him.  He was looking at me, smiling sweetly, which was a bit odd for him. 
            Then he looked up at the ceiling solemnly.  I wasn’t going to le him get away with that.  I reached over and scratched him behind his left ear.  He smiled and leaned into it, just like a cat would.

            Mom bought Kai a guitar when we were 16 so he would have something to do besides be a brat.   In three days he had already learned how to play Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven.  And well to.  I wasn’t surprised, though.  He was a genius.  We both were, but he had the ability to focus on anything.  I lacked focus.  It would take much longer for me to learn that song; any song really.
            After he mastered Stairway,  he put a bumper sticker on his guitar that said “Vandalism: As Beautiful as Rock in a Cop’s Face.”  He had made it his.

            Once, in science class, Kai broke a vile of iodine.  Not in a nice, normal way, though.  This is Kaiser we’re talking about here.  He was holding it with the thongs over a flame.  Then the vile somehow shot out of the thongs and flew across the room, almost hitting Mr. Nokamura in the face before smashing against the wall on the other side of the room. 
            His reaction:  “Cool.”  Then nasty, sadistic laughter.  He blames a poltergeist. 

            After we finished that night we curled up together under the flannel sheet.  He held me as a cool wind blew through the open terrace doors, carrying the sounds and smells of the street below with it.
            “Only you,” I heard him whisper into my hair.  I fell asleep like that, my head on his chest, his warm breath rustling my hair. 

            We had made love for the first time only three days ago, and not sense then, but still...  I stare at the white ceiling while lying on the couch.  I mom and dad are both at work.  I don’t know where Kai is.  I miss him sorely. 
            Later, much later, I hear him come in.  He slams the door behind him and makes a beeline for his room like he always does.  I hear him come out and go to the kitchen.  It’s 1:30 in the afternoon and he wasn’t around for lunch, so I’m sure he’s hungry.  I hear him singing Sharon Apple’s Idol Talk as he makes himself a sandwich.  He’s still singing the song when he comes out to the living room where I’m lying on the couch.
            “Y’know, you where there when I left,” he says and sits down on the coffee table, looking at me.  I expect some mean, smart-ass comment to follow but he doesn’t say anything.  He just takes a bite out of his sandwich. 
            “Kai...?” I begin.  I want to ask him something that’s been nagging obsessively in the back of my brain for that past few days.  “Are you using me?  Am I just a game to you?”
            He swallows the piece of the sandwich he’s chewing and looks at me.  I try to read his eyes to get a hint of what’s about to happen, but he hides his emotion well.
            “Y’know that lithium* my shrink and mom and dad are trying to get me to take but it just sits on my table next to my bed?”
            “Yeah.  What about it?”
            “After the other night -the next morning actually- I started taking it.”  He reaches out and caresses the thick, thick scab and bruise that make up the bite he gave me.  I think it’s a miracle I didn’t need stitches for it.  He’s a biter.  But at the same time, the bite felt really good; I like it. 
            “You make me want to be a better person.”  He smiles down at me.  “No, I’m not using you.”
            I smile back at him.  “Considering that came from you, that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
            He leans down and kisses the bite.  “I’ll have to remember that, Koi,” he says.   “Did you just call me Koi?” I ask as I wrap my arms around him.  He starts stroking my hair.
            “No,” he says.  I feel his breath on the bite mark and it feels good.  Too bad we don’t share pleasure the same way we share pain.  He moves up and kisses my mouth while climbing on top of me.
            “No, Koi.”

*For those of you who don’t know, lithium can be used as a mood stabilizer.