Disclaimer: This story depicts of attempted rape between two males somewhat graphically, not to mention some well-placed violence, as well mush between two males, though nothing commital happens. The rating is probably conservative. Angst and sappy mush abound. Read at your own risk. Author is not liable for any emotional damages incurred resulting form the reading of this work of fiction and therefore any flaming is no more than an act of mental masturbation. Please, save yourself the trouble and just go find some porn and a rag and insert one in each ear. Keep out of reach of children, not for individual resale, contents under pressure, etcetera, etcetera...

Characters are original, but if you feel inspired to do fanfiction or fanart I would not be at all opposed. I'd just like to know about it. The title and the names of the episodes are inspired by a song; Enigma - Return to Innocence.

Character art:
Ugh. For some reason, fiction press refuses to display these. I'm just going to post the links in my bio, so check that out if you're curious.

Return to Innocence
Episode 1: Devotion

Some people snore when they sleep. Some grunt, some snort, some murmur, some mumble.

Vesper?

He purred.

Imite had been annoyed by it at first, a nuance of his new roommate he'd discovered only after his own bed finally succumbed to rot and collapsed, the mattress already long past the point of salvation. The only alternative being sleeping on the cold concrete slab of a floor, he vouched for sharing a bunk with the tall mantis. It was hard to get to sleep with someone who towered over you rumbling like an old lawnmower only a foot away. Particularly one of a species who had a tendency to eat your own, at least in ancient times.

The moth watched the dark, sleeping form, the rhythmic purring dulling his mind and making him unaware that he was staring. He couldn't make out many details; it was like trying to discern a shadow within a shadow, Vesper's ebon hide standing out even against the dull, faint grey light of the moon that filtered in. The mantid's chest rose and fell gently, the tone of the rumbling following it to its apex and down again, moonlight catching the well-defined lines and curves of his musculature.

Imite felt a smile on his lips and blinked in surprise, quickly rolling over, away from the sight. It made him uncomfortable in a way he had trouble pinpointing. The warm, rolling purr wasn't as easy to escape, though. The moth closed his eyes and sighed.

At least it was one of his calmer purrs. The night Vesper had serenaded his pillow with a carnal near-growl had been enough for Imite to consider relocating himself to another room, lest his bunkmate choose a far warmer victim for his somnambular seduction. It had been a far cry from his usual purr - instead of a comfortable background noise that lulled one into a sense of security, that surrounded and embraced them slowly, this one demanded the forefront of one's attention, intimidating and dangerous.

It was the difference between being hugged and being pinned against a wall.

He didn't even want to think about what Vesper'd been dreaming about. Being raised in a very proper, rich household made him quite conservative - a mindset that hadn't left him even though that household had forsaken him. He was quite innocent for a teenager and tried desperately to resist all the temptations of corruption. It wasn't easy, remaining sheltered when one had no shelter. But it was all he had to hold onto.

Imite swallowed back a whimper, his blunt fingers digging into his pillow. Self-pity was as bad as the feelings that'd been stirring in the base of his brain while watching Vesper. Worse, actually. The thoughts had been pleasant, it was the stigma that made him queasy. He tried so hard to act in a manner that'd earn his family's approval, that maybe if he proved himself, they'd take him back. He didn't want to realize what he already knew in the back of his mind - they'd stopped watching long ago. It was futile, but it was something.

He pulled his feathery antennae, trying to pull himself out of his depressing thoughts. He blinked his eyes open, staring at a crack in the far wall and seeking solace from it. Vesper's purr started to creep back into his mind, filling it gradually and easing away the nagging thoughts. Pretty soon, it was all there was.

His eyelids sagged, and the moonlight soon found them both asleep.

Vesper felt the sun clawing at his eyelids, and he blinked his eyes open wearily. He yawned broadly, his tongue curling with the effort, and stretched his arms out, rolling his neck. He blinked when he felt his elbow land on soft, warm fuzz, and an irritated, sleepy murmur rose up from its owner.

"Whoops.." The mantis courteously lifted his arm as he sat up, and Imite curled up into a tighter ball, a wing shuffling to cover him. The movement reminded Vesper of his own cramped wings, and they swiveled away from his shoulders, the crystalline appendages sliding out of their carapace. They shivered in the air as Vesper arched his back, letting out another loud yawn and allowed himself to extend his arms fully, this time.

He squinted, looking at the alarm clock across the room. A wry look crossed his face, then he announced loudly "Uh-oh, it's already 9am!"

Imite's eyes flew open and he was sitting up in an instant, five shades paler than usual, his wings opening stiffly behind him, "What?! We're late!" He scrambled out of bed, flinging the blanket over at Vesper and running to his dresser, rummaging through clothes. The mantis could take it no longer, and started laughing uproariously.

Imite looked over his shoulder at him, "What's so amusing?! They're going to kill us when we get to school-"

"It's Saturday, mariposa." The Spanish word rolled off of Vesper's fluent tongue, as he grinned at the moth, past a face full of semi-curly black locks. Imite stared at him blankly, before his features sunk into a deadly glare, his fuzz ruffling up in indignation.

"That wasn't funny!" Imite was fluttering his wings angrily now, both at being made to look foolish and at the nickname. Vesper always called him that, and wouldn't tell him what it meant, either. He was certain it was something bad, and Vesper knew how much it annoyed him.

That's why he did it.

"Yeah, it was," The mantis's snickering just infuriated him further, and Imite stomped back to the bed, sitting down and folding his arms, sulking.

"Aw," Vesper tilted his head, quirking his antennae at the pouting lepidian, "Sorry. Couldn't resist." He offered an apologetic grin. Imite glanced over at him out of the corner of his narrowed eye. He was met with a pair of dark, twinkling, midnight blue eyes, and a sheepish, if not sharp-toothed, smile. His resolve and irritation sunk beneath Vesper's charms, the way it always did when he made up his mind to be cross with the mantis for his wisecracking and playfulness.

The moth picked up a pillow and stuffed it into the charismatic face before Vesper could see the smile threatening on his own features. A muffled laugh erupted as Vesper caught the pillow, falling back onto the bed. Imite had to giggle himself, and kept pushing on the pillow, sitting on Vesper's chest and knowing full well the mantis could halt his playful attempt at suffocating him any time he wanted.

What he didn't know is just how he did it when he did - he felt Vesper's broad, tridactyl hands on his shoulders, and suddenly he was on his back again. The pillow was gone, flung somewhere across the room, and the mantis was looming over him, still grinning, hair dangling down and tickling Imite's antennae. The moth's breath was caught in his throat, and he stared up at him meekly, the fuzz on the back of his neck on end.

A moment of silence passed, before the tension was broke by Vesper. "C'mon," He nodded towards the door, "Last one to the kitchen has to do dishes."

He leaned away from the moth, and Imite felt the bed rise a bit. Imite stood up slowly, his legs feeling a little numb for a reason unknown to him. He made his way over to the door, which Vesper held open for him. Some race.

***

When they got to the kitchen, Imite winced. The onslaught of children was readily apparent; dirty bowls, spilt milk, scattered cereal decorating the counters and floor. Vesper glanced at his companion. "Think we're the only kids here who understand the idea of getting it in the bowl?" He grinned - he always did - and picked up one of the boxes from the counter, which had been laying on its side, and poured it into a convenient bowl.

"I guess so.." Imite sighed and picked up a cloth, starting to swab off the counter.

"Hey, it's Saturday. Our day off. Let the social workers get that." Vesper took the cloth from Imite, tossing it to the side. The moth looked distressed, "But.."

"I know, I know, milk on the counter will put us all in early graves, huh?" Vesper teased, and Imite scowled at him.

"The younger children are far more susceptible to bacterial infection."

"Kids get into stuff they shouldn't all the time." He took a mouthful of cereal, milk dribbling down his chin, waving his spoon around in demonstration, "Few germs can only be good for them. How will they ever get use to them if you keep cleaning them up?"

Imite blinked, never having considered that before, and he looked at the counter disparagingly. "But I want it to be clean.." He frowned, his wings sagging.

Vesper tilted his head, looking sympathetically at Imite. The moth could look so pathetic, and it wreaked havoc on his heart strings. Imite had this, to him, quite incomprehensible need for everything to be clean and orderly. Sometimes he wondered if Mah had taken Imite in as an orphan, or a maid. He sighed and picked up the cloth he'd flung with his free hand, dropping it onto Imite's hand, and the fuzzy antennae perked up instantly.

Vesper shook his head and walked into the living room, leaving the moth to clean happily. All of the other children at the orphanage had arranged themselves on the couch; sitting on the cushions, the back, the arms, on the floor in front of it. They ranged in age from three to nearly eleven, he and Imite, being at nearly eighteen and sixteen respectively, being the oldest by far.

None of them looked at him as he entered, all eyes being on the TV sitting on the floor. Vesper managed to wedge himself on the cushions, sandwiched between a young lioness and a raccoon boy, and hunched over so the kids on the back of the couch could still see. He felt like a giant around here, standing at 6'4 - he even shadowed Mah and the social workers that were drawn to the orphanage like bees to pollen.

Imite entered after a few minutes, scowling when he realized he had no place to sit. Vesper glanced over at him, "See what happens when you take your time? Here, I saved you a spot." One of the mantis's huge feet tapped on the floor, a few of the kids hissing at him to shush.

"Thanks." Imite rolled his eyes, but he made his way over, sitting on the carpet between Vesper's ankles, looking up at his fellow insect with a warning glare, "You'd better not dribble milk on me, either-" He was interrupted when a cold drop landed on the area where his nose would be, if he had one.

"Whoops." Vesper gave him his second sheepish grin for the morning. Imite made a frustrated sound and pulled up the collar of his shirt, scrubbing off his face. He stared firmly at the TV, not dignifying the mantis with a look.

Vesper's smile relaxed, and he took this opportunity to study his roommate, since the cartoon the kids were watching raptly wasn't terribly interesting. Imite's soft, shoulder-length black hair was the thing he had the best view of, and the two feathery, white antennae that arched over the moth's face. He was still wearing his pajamas, a set that looked far more suited to a six year old rather than sixteen - a sky blue, flannel outfit that clashed with his lavender fuzz only slightly. Imite was tiny, to Vesper at least - he could've only been 5', if that, and built quite thinly to boot. His wings were quite colourful, for a moth - shades of indigo, accented with black and bright violet, with a splash of white and a dusting of rose, and were pliable and limp when he chose, dangling like a cape behind him. The way they left iridescent powder everywhere amused Vesper, and he deduced that was where Imite's cleaning habit came from.

Not only were they polar opposites in looks, but personality as well. Imite was uptight and serious - Vesper was carefree and silly. Imite was orderly, Vesper was a slob - Imite was far more academically inclined, Vesper was more of an athlete and had trouble in school, though not for lack of trying. Imite listened to pop music, excelled at most domestic activities and liked gardens and clothing, being a moth and all. The outdoors was one thing he and Vesper could agree on, though Vesper was more of the outdoor sports type as opposed to gardener, and preferred loud rock and rap music. He was also good at the one domestic skill that Imite just couldn't master, no matter how he tried - cooking. Imite was very shy and modest, reserved - Vesper usually walked around topless, as he was now, or even just in his boxers, and didn't usually hesitate away from hugging, putting his arm around someone, or horsing around.

Imite was sheltered, virgin, conservative - it was one thing Vesper didn't quite understand. It was the kind of attitude he saw in kids from the higher-end middle to upper class; and he talked of his family as though they were still alive and well. How the moth had ended up in an orphanage that was within spitting distance of the ghettos was unknown to the mantis. Imite was still innocent, and while he was quite intelligent and did well in school - he was absolutely clueless when it came to street sense and the darker side of life.

On the other hand, the streets had been where Vesper was born, in the poor end of the Hispanic district in the Southern California town. Despite his cheery exterior - or perhaps because of it - Vesper had been witness to more than a few unpleasant sights and experiences, involving drugs, gang warfare, and girls. He frowned; all of that knowledge and experience he could do without.

How he and Imite managed to become friends was another mystery to the mantis. Maybe it was circumstance; the police had finally pulled him off the street for truancy, and placed him in the shelter when they found out he was homeless, after he'd promised to go to school. He met Imite on the first day of school, when the moth sat down at the 'outcasts' table, and when Vesper'd gathered his stuff from the police station at the end of the day and gone to the orphanage, he was surprised to find out he was sharing a room with the moth. The laundry room of the house-turned-orphanage was all that was available, and it was cramped, but it was home.

Imite could help Vesper with his schoolwork, and alternatively, Vesper was a great help with the courses Imite had trouble with - Gym and Spanish. They both liked working outside, and Vesper could now assist Imite with the more laborious parts of tending the orphanage's yard and garden. Imite also had the advantage of having Vesper as a 'bodyguard' in school now; kids didn't bully him much in the halls anymore, not when he was with the tall, dark, fit mantis.

Vesper frowned at the thought of how the kids at school treated his friend, who had lazed to the side, leaning against his leg. Even Vesper had to admit it; Imite was pretty, almost feminine looking - in fact, most people mistook him for a girl, even the teachers. Needless to say, he was the brunt of a lot of insults and shoving, by bullies out to affirm their masculinity and heterosexuality. He knew it all upset Imite a lot, as they all seemed to be hitting an open nerve - he'd found Imite red-eyed and with ragged breath on more than one occasion.

Imite had found a banana in the kitchen, and was nibbling at it as he watched the cartoon unenthusiastically, his antennae sagging. A grin slowly spread across Vesper's face, and still being hunched over, they were too close to resist; he took a deep breath before blowing through them loudly, the moth yelping in surprise and his antennae standing straight on end, before curling up.

Vesper started laughing, earning the glare of all the others, especially Imite, who looked downright furious.

"I don't know what's with you today, Vesper, but I'm sick of it!" He stood up, actually able to meet Vesper eye-to-eye for once, his fists balled, shoulders hunched up, and Vesper leaned back into the couch, trying to stifle his laughter. "You.. rgh!" Imite puffed up, then announced loudly, "I'm going to go to my room and get dressed!" And with that, he stomped off.

Vesper watched him go, scratching his head. He frowned a bit; the emphasis Imite had put on the room being his hurt slightly, then blinked at himself. He'd had people say and do far worse to him, why he should be upset that a little moth boy that he was tormenting snapped at him was beyond him.

He shook his head and tried to watch the cartoon, but failed. He stood up and decided to go try and mend the damage.

"Argh!" Imite glared at the bathroom mirror as he took his stress out on his hair, brushing it furiously, "Why does he have to be so annoying?!"

Imite had changed into his normal clothes, an oversized purple sweater that'd he'd made himself, well-worn, and a pair of black dress pants. He stopped his brushing, straightening his shoulders as he fumed at the mirror.

"He makes a point of picking on me too!" He shook out his mane, leaning against the sink. A thought crossed his mind, and his expression went from hostile to wounded, his shoulders slumping, "Maybe he's no better than those kids at school.."

Imite's antennae drooped, hanging limply and hoping he was wrong. What Vesper did never made him feel hurt before, just.. irritated. Frustrated, annoyed, flustered. It didn't hurt like the insults, the shoving, the blacklisting that happened at school. He knew Vesper was nice - maybe he was too nice to pick on him like that. Maybe he felt sorry for him. Imite closed his eyes, gripping the sink.

Why would Vesper be so annoying to him if he didn't dislike him? Imite couldn't figure out anything else, and he suddenly felt queasy. Maybe Vesper was only nice to him because he helped him with his homework. Imite's mind started to race as it conceived all the possible ulterior motives the mantis could have, rubbing salt into his own wound.

His chest felt tight, and he felt something drip onto his hand. He blinked his eyes open blearily, then looked up at the mirror. His violet eyes were tinged with red, and tears had forged damp, matted paths in the peach-like fuzz on his face, leaving dark trails. A look of confusion tinted his saddened, tear-streaked face. Why am I crying?

Imite frowned as the reason occurred to him. The idea that Vesper wasn't really his friend wounded him, in a way even the bullies at school couldn't. He wanted a friend, someone who was nice to him, someone who didn't reject him like everyone else had, even his own family. He'd been hoping Vesper would be that someone, but he wasn't so certain anymore.

He closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head, "I wish.. I wish he'd just leave me alone!" He choked.

Just outside the door, Vesper's face fell. He was about to open the door when he'd heard Imite talking to himself, and was eavesdropping before he knew it.

Alright, mariposa, The mantis sighed and put his hands in his pockets, dragging his feet as he went down the hall, I'll leave you alone.