My Heart Within your Soul

This is my first attempt at a Golden Sun fic. I hope it turns out alright o_o;; Well, anyway, the pairings will be Picard/Felix/Piers, and Alex/Felix. There might be some NC later on in the fic. Also, this will probably be fairly ooc as it’s AU. O.o Wheee.. * typetypetype *

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Golden Sun. I don’t own Alex, or Felix, or Piers, or any of the other characters that may appear in this fic. I wish I did; all those pretty, long-haired-boys would make man-love all the time for my viewing pleasure. But, sadly, they do not belong to me. Oh well.

Oh yeah, I should also mention that for those people who only know about the English version of Golden Sun, Piers original name is Picard. Piers is the american name he was given when it was translated, I guess. Now, on with the fic!


::FELIX' POV::

So that’s how it’s been lately. The dreams, I mean. I don’t know why, or how…but every night for the past several weeks I’ve had a different dream involving the same guy. I’ve never met him before, as far as I’m aware, but I’ve come to the conclusion thatmustmust be my subconscious “ideal man”. At first, when the dreams had just started, I thought he was Alex. However, I soon came to know him as Picard. I just know that every night the dream is different, sometimes particularly steamy, which tends to cause me to wake up to wet, sticky sheets. Luckily, Alex never questioned those nights when I’ve had wet dreams, though sometimes I think that he takes amusement in that he gives me this cocky little grin when he sees the damp spots.

It really sort of makes me question our relationship, though. I mean, that’s not to say that I don’t like Alex. That’s not true at all! Me and him have been dating for several years now. Almost instaneously from the moment I met him at the coffee shop when I managed to slip on a freshly mopped floor and spilled hot coffee down my front side. The next thing I knew, I had a beautiful stranger at my side, helping me clean up the hot beverage with cheap napkins. Within the next fourty-eight hours, we had exchanged numbers, gone to dinner together, watched a movie together, and slept together. Within the next two years, he asked me to move in with him. How could I refuse? I accepted, and I’ve been living with him in his 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom, one kitchen apartment. It’s not cheap, either. He goes to med-school and woas aas a part time nurse at the local hospital, getting a really good wage. I think I scored pretty lucky with him.

He leaned over and I can feel the warmth of his lips against my forehead. A mouse-like shiver patters down my spine.

I don’t know why he’s with me. I really don’t. After all, the guy is several years my senior. He’s 22, and I’m still in high-school for chrissake. I’m 17, turning 18 in 3 months. We’ve been together since I was 15 he whe was 20. I guess that makes him legally a pedophile. I’m not even sure what he sees in me. I tend to be moody, anti-social, distant, and not many people really like me. So why does he want me around? I don’t know, sometimes it just doesn’t feel right. Like there’s something I’m missing, or forgetting about, like a memory washed away in the tide.

I can feel him straddling my hips and his hands are at my neck now, lips traveling from my forehead to my mouth. His teeth close tenderly against my lower lip, pulling lightly to get my attention. I meet his gaze and smile up at him. He says he likes it when I smile. It’s a bit hard, though, with the lower portion of my mouth peeled back. He chuckles. It’s a smooth, warm, bubbling sort of chuckle that makes my chest tickle and my face warm. Then his lips are flush against mine. Warm, sweet, metallic; like his voice.

This is the one thing I can’t deny; the sex. I may not be in love with him, and in fact, the thought of spending the rest of my life with him might scare the shit out of me, but if I were to say that the sex wasn’t good, I’d be lying. Unless it was to say that ‘good’ is the understatement of the year. The sex is unbelievable; mind-blowing, even. Within those few minutes where he’s on top of me; moving in such a rhythm, his hair plastered to his face, neck, chest, shoulders, his eyes closed in euphoria, lips parted in such a way that makes me melt; his moans so smooth and satiny - like nothing I’ve ever heard before…his fingers…everywhere. Everything dissolves away; all my problems, all my worries. I don’t have to think about work, or home, or family troubles. Nothing. It’s just him and me in sweet, sweet bliss.

It doesn’t take long before I’ve taken care of his clothes and thrown them into a not-so-neat pile on the floor, and my night-wear which consists of a pair of black, cotton briefs was right alongside it. Then after a few tender words he was inside of me, moving; skin against hot, bare skin. It doesn’t hurt anymore. The f tim time we had sex it hurt really bad. I was almost in tears even though I knew he was being as gentle as he possibly could. Sometimes he use to tease me for being “such a virgin”. Then I’d glare at him and he’d laugh it off and tousle my hair.

Of course, sometimes he knows how to make it hurt still without actually hurting me. Sometimes he’ll intentionally be a l a little extra rough just to add some pain to the pleasure and it’s absolutely to die for. It’s completely consensual. I’m sure he would never purposefully hurt me just to do damage. He’s not like that. I don’t think he’s like that, anyway. Of course, I shouldn’t really put anything past him. Alex can be one of those ‘mysterious’ types that you know hardly anything about and girls like to swoon over.

We finish quickly and he pulls out, planting one last kiss to my lips then proceeded to pick his clothes from the floor and redress himself. Goodbyes are exchanged, and then he leaves for work.

We don’t usually get to see each other a lot except for mornings, because we both have work, he has college, and about 65% of the year I’m in school. Luckily, I’m going to be a senior starting tomorrow so in a year I wont have to worry about school anymore. Maybe I’ll go to college, eventually, when I have the money. Alex says I should go because I’m smart and I could get a really good job once I’ve gotten a college education. I’ll think about it.

Outside I can hear the quiet pitter-patter of raindrops plopping against the window as came the quiet, Sunday morning shower, and I rolled over and buried my face into my pillow.

Somehow I could tell this was going to be another very long, very boring day.


~*~*~*~*~*~

The school bell rattles loudly to announce that the first classes of the school year were beginning. Me? I’m sitting on the bleachers of the gym. I just know I’m going to be miserable with this class. Gym? First class? I’m not even awake by 3rd hour, usually, and now I’m going to be doing laps and jumping around like a frog with a hernia while I’m half conscious.

My shoulders are slumped forwards with my arms folded against my knees, my gaze settled on my Nike tennis shoes Alex bought me when we were out shopping. I wiggle my toes for my own amusement, and in my peripheral vision I can see what I assume to be our teacher stepping onto the gym floor. He’s got a clipboard in one hand and a pencil in the other. He looks young, and I’m sort of surprised that he’s old enough to get a job at a school. He’s thin, tall, has shaggy, blond hair and sort of reminded me of an ex-hippie. Our teacher is wearing a plain, white t-shirt and red, loose, knee length shorts. He doesn’t look clean-kept and boring like a lot of the teachers here; in fact, he looks like he might actually be entertaining, given the chance.

He raps the tip of his pencil against his clipboard and everyone turns his attention to him. He introduces himself as Adrian, and said that he didn’t like being called “mister” or people calling him by his last name, so he wanted us to just use his first name.

Adrian takes attendance quickly, laughing at himself occasionally when he came to someone’s name that he mispronounced royally. He tapped his pencil to the last name and parted his lips to announce it when we all hear huffing and puffing and the sound of scuffling footsteps at the gym door. A late student, perhaps, that just ran to class. Typical.

“Ah! Forgive me! I’m sorry that I’m late, but this is my first year here and I don’t know where any of my classes are.”

The voice is silky smooth and somehow it sounds familiar. Adrian turns around and I can hear him laugh again. “It’s quite alright! Don’t worry about it. Please, take a seat-” He glances briefly to his clipboard and then back to the other. “-Piers, is it?”

I glance upwards for the first time to see the boy, noticing the head of long, turquoise hair, and I can feel my heart skip a beat.

Picard…




Yay! Done with Chapter two already. Two chapters in two days. I must be on a roll or something. Usually I get one paragraph done when I start a fic and don’t touch it for months, if ever again. I guess I’m just desperate to see some Golden Sun Yaoi fiut tut there. I haven’t seen very many, and that’s really depressing! If anyone finds any other really good GS yaoi fics out there, I’d be very grateful if you told me about them =3

Anyway, R&R! ^_^