Undeniable
chapter one: sweet nothings

by Hth


	The avalanche that began with Yue's arrival ended in nothing but quietness.
	"Do you miss it?" Yukito asked him late one night, fingers tracing the crescent 
of fine skin beneath Touya's eye.  He meant the magic.  He was imagining it like a 
kind of blindness, as though the world was only half as full of images now, a picture 
show in a ghost town.
	Touya took hold of his hand and kissed it and said, "Not very often."  He liked 
looking at Yukito's eyes through those round lenses of his, the way they magnified 
his concern and then showed the worry falling apart like milk-soaked paper.  Maybe 
Yukito imagined that it was something like having your glasses broken and never being 
able to get a new pair, so that the world was never quite as you remembered it looking.
	The truth was that losing his magic was not much like partial blindness.  Touya 
didn't know what it was like, wasn't the kind of person who sat around thinking about 
things like that.  He only knew that sometimes, when he was alone, the world seemed 
strangely quiet in a way that it never used to be.  It was as though he'd grown used 
to the rumble of a train or the mating calls of crickets, and sometimes he caught 
himself looking back over his shoulder through time, wondering when it had all gone 
away.
	Except that he knew when.  And he knew why.  And he knew that Yukito worried 
about him, and he knew that it was up to him (because of the way Yukito looked up 
at him, because of the way he'd promised to take care of everything, forever) to 
present a strong example.  They both had their demons now, after all.
	But you could only live in a state of chaos for so long, and what started out 
unbelievable and degraded into unbearable -- well, you woke up one morning and it 
was unavoidable, then undeniable, and eventually even unremarkable.  There was still 
school, and work, and Touya still did his homework sitting on the floor of his bedroom 
with Yukito.  Days and nights began to organize themselves into an art deco kind of 
pattern, not quite normal, not quite *realistic,* but clearly designed and ordered, 
full of things like chore charts and weather reports and television, and all of it 
beginning and ending with Yukito.
	Like the magic (and its reverse, the silence), that was becoming a comfortable 
abnormality.  Once the spells that had bound up Yukito's life were made transparent, 
it seemed obvious that Yukito couldn't be expected to return to that oversized doll's 
house to continue his isolated life there; Touya didn't remember any particular 
discussion about it, just the collective Kinomoto will exerting itself, kindly but 
implacable.  Yukito moved in, exhausted and anxious, giddy and touched to the heart 
by the invitation, and there was no polite fiction of the guest room.  Touya suspected 
that his father and Sakura were just happy that, after all he'd endured, there was 
at least one reliable source of joy in Yukito's life.  So Yukito took refuge in Touya 
-- his house, his family, his strength, his bed, his arms, his life -- and everything 
seemed to come to the right sort of conclusion.
	More or less.
	There was still Yue, of course.  Sakura's protector, but Yukito's burden; Touya 
didn't quite know what to make of it -- him -- whatever Yue was.  But Touya had grown 
up with ghosts and spirits lurking around the perimeter of his life, and Yue's 
half-acknowledged existence was a lot like that.  Yue was...well, basically, Yue 
*was.* He existed, somewhere; even when he didn't have any kind of a direct 
manifestation, he still went on being Yue, and in the larger scope of Touya's life, 
that was understandable.  Almost normal.  A lot of things had to content themselves 
with flickering half-lives a lot less corporeal than Yue's.
	Every night before bed, Touya touched the picture of his mother that sat on 
the desk he never used, a special signal to her.  She could still see him, after all.  
It was the most rudimentary kind of communication, one step up from cheap seance 
theatrics, but it was what they had.  It was the way Touya let her know that although 
power might burn or be blown out like a candle flame, the heart required no evidence 
of what it knew to be true.  They were still with one another.
	It was the same with Yukito.  In the beginning, love was tangible, a richly 
sensual, luminous piece of art.  In the beginning, Yukito was like a stained glass 
window, with ornamented light streaming out from some source within him.  In the 
beginning, Yukito was the soundtrack of wonder, a kanji composed out of the ordinary 
brush-strokes of miracle that made up Touya's world.  All of that was gone now, lost 
in the stillness, but Touya didn't let it bother him.  Yukito was all of those things, 
whether or not Touya had the proof of it anymore.  Every night, Touya lay in bed with 
his arms around his lover and confronted the same choice: mourn the sudden handicap 
that had rendered him unable to immerse himself in the honey-thick texture of Yukito's 
uniqueness, or just let go of the past and take pleasure in the beat of Yukito's heart, 
the heat of his skin, the soft, horsey sound of his breathing.
	Every night, he chose to let go of everything but Yukito.  The heart demands 
no evidence, and Touya believed that Yukito was still magic.  Just because Touya 
himself was now one of the stupid masses who couldn't feel that didn't mean it wasn't 
true.


? 			*		*
		
	Touya came home from a double shift expecting Yukito to be in bed and asleep 
already -- looking forward to it, truth be told.  He liked the way Yukito curled around 
Touya's pillow when he had to sleep alone, the shaggy mess of his hair, the very faint 
sound of Yukito's snoring.  Touya would slip the pillow out of Yukito's arms, making 
him stir and mumble, instinctively reaching out for something, and Touya would let 
himself be the something that was found.
	The bed was empty.  Touya stared at it, a little too worn out to have any theories 
at all about Yukito's whereabouts.  He only knew that it was after midnight, Yukito 
should be here, and Yukito was not.
	"Did you lose something?"
	Even as Touya turned to the sound of Yukito's voice, he knew that something 
was wrong; Yukito didn't talk to him that way, with that self-satisfied, mocking edge.  
"It's you," Touya said, confirming it to himself.
	"Me," Yue repeated pleasantly from the doorway.  The span of his half-unfurled 
wings blocked Touya's view of the hallway, turning the door into a canvas for Yue's 
body.  His forearms were braced on each side of the door, and his lean body managed 
to seem poised and relaxed at the same time, clothed only in black silk pants and 
the loose fall of his own hair.  He bent one wrist, flipping some of that hair away 
from his face with the bare tips of two fingers, and Touya realized that he was staring.
	Yue smiled, and Touya realized that he was shaking.  Not much, but enough to 
make him suddenly want to sit down on the edge of the bed.  Touya pretended to pay 
a lot of attention to his slippers as he removed them.  "Could you...tell Yukito that 
I'm home?"
	"Of course.  If you like."
	There was something sly in that last phrase, something Touya didn't like, but 
when he looked up, Yue was still smiling and calm.  "What are you doing here?"
	Yue's smile quirked slightly, almost faltered, but the flaw disappeared quickly.  
"Nothing much," he said, closing the door behind him as he entered Touya's room.  
"Practicing my katas.  Stretching my legs.  I can't just stay in my box until an 
emergency comes along, you know.  It's not healthy."
	"I meant here in my room."
	"Did you really?"  Yue's tone said, *No, you didn't,* and Touya wondered if 
he might not be right about that.  "Well, as for that, I heard you come in, and I 
thought it would be polite to say hello.  Maybe even invite you to spar with me; I 
understand you're quite good."
	"Some other time.  It's late, and I'm tired."
	Yue seemed to float when he walked, even when Touya could see his feet moving, 
the bare soles padding softly across the floor until his knees were level with Touya's, 
giving Touya the option of looking up into Yue's eyes, straight ahead at his chest, 
or down at....  Down.  He chose to look up, tipping his head back to expose his throat.  
"Is that what you would have told Yukito, if he had been the one waiting up for you?" 
Yue asked, running his thumb from Touya's voice-box up to his chin.
	"I -- you -- waiting up for me?"
	In a rustle of silk and feathers, Yue sank to his knees, his pale hands braced 
on Touya's thighs.  "You're all I've been able to think of all day, To-ya."
	"What -- *what?* Me -- what?"  He couldn't resist reaching out to touch that 
luxurious hair.
	Yue smiled up at him.  "Why so shocked, lover?  Surely you think of me, from 
time to time."
	"You -- but you -- I'm *not* your lover.  You're not--"
	"Aren't I?"  He seemed almost puzzled by that.
	"No. Yukito--"
	Chuckling, Yue slid his hands further up Touya's thighs.  "Oh, To-ya.  That 
you, of all people, would be so enslaved to what your eyes see.  There *is* no Yukito; 
you must understand that.  You grew used to thinking of him as a human being, but 
that was just a lie."
	"He's more human than you are."
	"I suppose most things are," Yue said complacently.  "But the fact remains that, 
before becoming entangled in our current predicament, one of us had an independent 
existence, and the other did not.  Yukito is a dream, my friend, or else how could 
the fading of my magic have threatened both our lives?  He came into your life because 
of me, and he will remain here only so long as I do."
	"The same is true of you, you know.  You couldn't live without Yukito."
	"To-ya, if a man goes deep-sea diving, he can't survive without his oxygen tank, 
but that doesn't make the man and the tank equals."
	"He's not just a tool for you to use!"
	"Touya!"  Yue laughed helplessly.  "You're not listening!  I.  Am.  Yukito.  
And he is Yue.  Listen, if it matters so much to you, I'll change forms.  I understand 
that you're human, and a creature of habit. I only thought that you 
would...enjoy...trying something new."  Effortlessly, he pushed Touya back down to 
the bed, and when Touya threw out his arms for leverage to draw himself back up to 
a sitting position, Yue grabbed his hands, weaving their fingers together and pressing 
him back down.  "Don't *you* think you would enjoy it...lover?"
	That question was nothing but a trap, Touya was well aware -- designed to make 
only one answer possible: the wrong answer.  But still, a part of him was all too 
eager to fling Touya directly into that trap, and it was all Touya could do to keep 
his mouth closed around the instinctive *Yes yes yes.* Yue still had him by both hands, 
crouched gracefully over Touya's body, and Touya was having trouble thinking of him 
as Sakura's protector *or* as Yukito's burden.  He was beautiful, and ready, and 
*here.*	
	Touya closed his eyes, and Yue shifted above him, the breath of his laugh burning 
against Touya's cheek.  "To-ya, don't be afraid.  You've always wanted me; you know 
that.  How could you expect to stop wanting me now?"
	"I didn't--"
	"Don't insult me with lies that even you can't bring yourself to believe.  Do 
you remember how we met, To-ya?  By the fence -- you saw me watching you.  You couldn't 
look away.  You couldn't see me, but you knew I was there, didn't you, lover?  You 
felt the magic.  What did you call it -- the glow?  The moon-magic, Touya -- what 
else did you think it was?  I felt the magic in you, too.  How could we have been 
anything other than pulled toward each other?"
	"That's not -- that's not why I love him.  I can't feel the magic anymore, and 
I still--"
	The smile in Yue's eyes finally gave way to heat-lightning, and his fingers 
curled painfully around the back of Touya's neck.  "*Fine.* You love him.  How *nice* 
for you.  But your days of being able to fuck me inside his body are over; you're 
too weak.  If you want another taste of what I am -- *ever again* -- then it has to 
be this way.  Do you want it or don't you?"
	There had always been a choice: be miserable because of the connection that 
was gone now, or be happy in spite of it.  But the idea that there was a third choice....
	"You're not Yukito," he said desperately.  "You don't act like him, you don't--"
	"Well, I said we were the same person; I didn't say we were *identical.*"
	Identical was the last thing that Yukito and Yue were...and yet, somehow, Touya 
thought he was beginning to grasp what they were.  It was easier with his eyes closed; 
the glow was gone, but there was a certain *sound,* a faint murmur just outside his 
range.  It was familiar, and it was as much a Yukito-sound as the beat of Yuki's heart 
under his ear, or the way he mumbled when Touya disturbed his sleep.
	He loved Yukito, no less than ever.  But there was another, younger Yukito in 
his memory, the star of so many of his best memories, and he missed -- damn -- he 
shouldn't, but he -- in spite of -- he *missed*....
	Touya didn't struggle at all when Yue kissed him.  There was a roaring in his 
ears now, a suppressed craving coming to life, and Touya found himself wrapping his 
legs around Yue's waist and groaning as Yue took his lips away.  "How is this possible?  
How can I be feeling -- I don't have it anymore.  I gave it to you."
	"You gave me the energy that fuels your magic -- your battery, if you like.  
But the talent for it, that's a part of you, written into your DNA.  You couldn't 
be rid of that if you tried.  You'll always be...sensitive...To-ya.  You're 
simply..hard of hearing."
	"You sound like him...."  It wasn't a *sound,* really.  It wasn't like any of 
the five senses that you could talk about in ordinary words.  It was just a presence 
-- an activity, perhaps.  The opposite of stillness.
	"He sounds like me, actually.  But think of it however you want."  Yue drew 
Touya's earlobe into his mouth and kissed it.  "I know what you want, To-ya.  You 
want me to whisper to you in his voice, the way you think he can't anymore.  Of course, 
he *can.* He does.  But it's so faint, so hard for you to hear now.  He whispers in 
his sleep, and you can't hear a word.  But he's awake now -- *we* are awake now.  And 
we're so much stronger this way...."
	Stronger....  Yue was surprisingly strong, and it showed in the way his slender 
hands jerked at Touya's clothes, rattling his body and stealing his breath as they 
were stripped raggedly away piece by piece.  "This is wrong," Touya said, stirring 
under the weight of Yue's body.  Yue's foot was braced against the top of Touya's 
own, pushing his heel down and his ankle against the frame of the bed.  It hurt, and 
yet somehow it was easier for Touya to move his hips, pushing them shallowly against 
Yue, than it was to move his leg and ease the pain.
	He deserved the pain anyway.  So, so wrong....
	And yet, when Touya's eyes closed and it was just Yue's mouth against his own, 
it felt....  Well, like it had always felt, the hum and glitter of Yukito's sweetness 
and willingness, and the deeper Touya let himself drink out of Yue's mouth, the less 
firm reason's grip on Touya became.  He was lost in a waking dream, where the air 
he breathed in turned to sake on his tongue and his kissing grew sloppy from the 
spillover of static electricity between them that left Touya's lips numb and clumsy.
	"Wrong," he sighed, as Yue slipped an arm under his legs and swung them around 
so that Touya was lying the right way on his bed.  "You're...you...say no, say 
no...Yue...."
	"You do realize that you're babbling, don't you?"  Yue moved Touya's arms for 
him, closing them firmly around Yue's waist.  "It's stress; you work too much, To-ya."
	"Stop," Touya said, but it was just a sound; he didn't know what he meant by 
it.  He let one arm fall up over his head, the other sliding down under the waistband 
of Yue's pants, between silk and silk, cool and warm.  "Ah...."  Thought, which had 
been elusive for the last few minutes (three? five? twenty?), suddenly buzzed through 
his head like an annoying insect in his ear, and suddenly Touya was in possession 
of a complete sentence again.  "Yuki keeps me from getting stressed out."
	"How very *useful* of him.  And what does he get from you in return?"  Touya 
felt like there ought to be a thousand replies to that, blunt or funny or romantic, 
but he didn't know what they were.  He just *didn't.* He shook his head, asking Yue 
with his eyes to take up the slack for him and know what he was trying to say, but 
instead of being helpful, Yue kept right on tracing Touya's shoulder and collarbone 
with his fingers.  "This has nothing to do with serving you," Yue said, and the motion 
of his lips had a natural upward curve, leading Yue's mouth slowly and busily up from 
Touya's chin toward his lips.  "This is what *I* want."
	He tried to reach up and run his fingers through Yue's hair, but there was so 
much hair, and Touya could never get to the end of it; he only got caught, tangled 
up at the wrist.  "What does a -- someone like you -- what do you want?  I never thought 
that -- you would need...."
	"Anything?  Funny, that seems to be a common assumption.  But I promise you, 
lover, I am real.  I have as much capacity to want and need as I ever have."
	"So...what do you want?"
	Yue gave him a sinister smile and then leaned down to run the tip of his tongue 
along one of Touya's eyebrows.  "You can't even imagine the things I want."
	That seemed like it was probably true; Touya wasn't sure why he believed that, 
but he did, entirely.  "You can tell me.  What -- how you -- what you like.  Tell 
me."
	"What I like?  Just what I always have, To-ya.  I like *you,*" he explained, 
and just when it seemed he would leave well enough alone with that, he pushed back 
against Touya's hand, the one that wasn't mummified in Yue's hair.  "Deep."
	Touya choked on a gasp, and he felt his body seize up, realigned by the way 
memory and sensation seemed to collide like two storm fronts.  Yukito's voice, 
overlayed a dozen times on top of itself, a collage of *i don't mind i like how deep 
can we no don't worry so deep fill oh touya good so deeper yes please right there 
deep like that just keep stay like that yes.* Touya's back arched in unconscious 
imitation of the Yukito he saw in his memory, shaking and groaning, anxious and aroused, 
totally unprepared for the intensity of the feelings he was feeding back into the 
air to condense and mingle with the sweat on Touya's skin.  Deep, yes -- of course, 
Yukito had always liked -- seemed so fragile, but he wasn't, he was resilient and 
pliant and -- stopped when they were both broken by exhaustion, never because Yuki 
couldn't go any -- of course, how else would he like, always had, felt so right and 
Yukito always urging him on in a voice that would never carry, that only Touya could 
hear.
	He moved one knee, raising it to press tightly but comfortably between Yue's 
legs, and he even got a sharp, hissing noise out of him as he threw his weight, forcing 
Yue onto his back with Touya looming above him.  "Say it again," Touya rumbled.
	"Deep," Yue breathed, his eyes closed down to slits and his hair fanned out 
like a second coverlet across the bed while his arms were flung wide outward. *ah 
lover* Touya could hear, but he was kissing Yue so hard that his lips could surely 
not be moving, he surely couldn't be saying anything at all.  But there it was, as 
real as it ever had been, sound without shape and sense without reason -- *ah love 
burn me all the way falling off falling through the air can't stop starve my my mine 
starve lust deep down i give up i can take what you my love my love please don't go 
go there take me with you hot take me down to the last deep down* --
	The noise was cracking his head open, separating skin from bone and brain and 
lifting him into some other realm of thinking, something that Touya could never have 
talked about, except with his hands on his lover's skin.  Yue lifted his hips for 
Touya to slide off those silk pants, and while he was holding himself half off the 
bed like that, rigid and light, Touya grabbed him by the waist and flipped him over.  
He reached one arm between Yue's legs, pulling his body close with a hand on his stomach, 
while the other hand scrabbled underneath the edge of his mattress for lube.
	"No," Yue said, and the sound of his voice was strangely jarring, so out of 
tune with the hot, golden lava-flow of his intoxicating mute-whispers.  "No -- Touya, 
no -- *listen* to me, Touya, *stop.*" The sharpness had its effect, and Touya went 
suddenly still and cautious.  "Not like this," Yue said, gentler now.
	"You said deep."  Touya knew he sounded defensive, but -- but what right did 
Yukito have to make him feel like a clumsy idiot for rushing hellbent through -- no 
-- but what right did Yue have to come into his room and shove him down and beg and 
demand and then say stop and listen and no?  How the hell was he ever supposed to 
get this right if it was always want/wait, more/can't, mine/wrong?
	But Yue just rolled them both over and ran his hands lightly down Touya's chest, 
kneeling across Touya's body so that his weight was almost resting against the aching 
head of Touya's cock.  "That face of yours, To-ya," he said breathlessly.  "I just 
want to look at that face."  His thoughts were a poorly composed instrumentation in 
the background, an energetic but disorienting nonsense mix of *face my miss dreams 
years more just like know my any close we once please seen no more change*
	"I can hear you," Touya said, the reality of it hitting him in its final, fully 
formed stage.  "I can hear what you think."
	Yue's hands were narrower than Yukito's, and his grip was harder.  He wrapped 
one wet hand around Touya's cock and stroked down, then repeated the motion with the 
opposite hand.  He arched an eyebrow at Touya, and after an agonizingly long moment 
of hazy confusion, Touya realized he was waiting for permission to go on.  Touya nodded, 
the unsteady tip of his head all the motion he had strength for.  Yue did it again, 
right hand and then left hand, and then again, in quicker succession, and soon it 
was a constant spiral of force and release, tension and expansion.  It was the 
unmistakable rhythm of sex, and Touya realized in something like awe that he was 
fucking, entering someplace hot and tight again and again, without ever having to 
move a muscle.
	He lifted Yue's hair up in his hands, noticing that Yue's breath was falling 
out of sync with his hands at intervals, then dropping right back in.  "You like this," 
Touya marveled, and his voice dipped so low that even he almost couldn't hear it.
	"I love you," Yue said simply, but with a little frown, instead of the sunny 
smile Touya was used to seeing illustrate those words.
	It made Touya feel awkward, even though he knew -- understood -- that it was 
Yukito who loved him, Yukito who existed here, invisible in this space between their 
mouths and bodies.  "You changed," he heard himself blurt out, as if from a distance.  
"It was so weird -- I know it wasn't -- your fault, but -- why did you have to change?  
Why did anything have to *change?*"
	Instead of the sleek, vaguely bored tone that so often marred Yukito's voice 
as it came from Yue's lips, Yue answered him with shaking, anxiety-edged passion.  
"I won't leave you.  It'll never change that much -- I have to be near you, don't 
you understand that?"
	Touya sunk his fingers into Yue's shoulders, tendrils of white hair trapped 
between flesh and nails.  "Deep," he said, because he couldn't explain it any better 
than that, even on a good day.  That was what he and Yukito were to each other: they 
were deep.
	The single word rebounded as though off of stone walls, echoing back into 
Touya's head over and over.  He could feel Yue thinking it back at him, colored with 
a blur of claustrophobia and self-pity and exultation; Touya could even catch the 
precise note that sounded like *yes true i agree with you completely,* all wrapped 
up in one sound, like a stone dropping into water.  The sense of Yue's affirmation 
slipping inside his consciousness was breathtaking, almost overwhelming, the most 
fascinating thing Touya could imagine....
	Until the sensation of slipping bodily inside Yue.  Which was even...*more.* 
Touya, who had been trained by adverse circumstances over the years to keep his voice 
down when he was doing something he didn't want to be caught at, lost his mind and 
opened his mouth to let out an alien sound, a wolfish snarl that descended into a 
panting, puppyish whine.  He settled his fingers on Yue's thighs, amazed at how fragile 
his normally strong hands felt.  Touya's whole body felt as though one sharp tap in 
the wrong spot would send him flying into two million pieces, utterly destroyed by 
the flock of thoughts that had suddenly been set free from their cages, battering 
him with their wings.
	There was so *much* here, so many emotions that Touya didn't know which one 
to focus on first.  Every time he sucked in a breath of air, he could taste them, 
exploding like ripe fruit in his mouth.  Pleasure, guilt, a vicious little twist of 
amusement, loneliness, nostalgia, comfort, admiration, jealousy, and love -- more 
kinds of love than Touya realized there were, love that made you feel immortal and 
love that made you want to die to block it out, love that had something to prove, 
love that was so simple and passive and defenseless that it cried out to be sheltered 
from real life.  Everything had its own flavor, everything was itself alone, 
co-existing with other feelings, but wholly real and consuming as it brushed over 
and through him.  Touya was so completely wrapped up in the experience (it hadn't 
been this way before -- it had only been a shadow of this, the suggestion of what 
was possible between someone who was sensitive and someone who was strong) that he 
couldn't move at all.  Yue set the pace, his eyes half-shut, rocking fluidly to get 
Touya where Yue wanted him.
	With a limber grace that Yukito had never possessed, Yue twisted one impossibly 
long leg around so that his ankle lay heavily against Touya's shoulder; Yue's other 
knee remained pressed deeply into the mattress by Touya's hip.  The position tightened 
him around Touya until it was almost pain, pinning him where he was so that a minimal 
amount of effort rubbed the head of Touya's cock back and forth over the exact spot 
that defined "deep" for Yue.  He smiled in fierce satisfaction, and carnal and 
aesthetic pleasure burst up through Touya's throat in sharp, wracking grunts that 
tried and failed to arrange themselves into approving words.
	Yue's head bent in deep concentration, and Touya found his eyes drawn to Yue's 
half-spread wings, rustling as though there were a high wind in the room.  The wings 
were shivering, the only part of Yue that didn't seem to be under strict control, 
and Touya found himself entranced by the way they would sink weakly down against his 
tautly muscular back and then abruptly rise up, spreading each time a little further 
toward their full span.  Trying for gentle and not truly succeeding, Touya placed 
a caressing hand on the back of Yue's head.  "I think you -- like this, too--" he 
said, and suddenly he was fully capable of grinning, even through the disorienting 
force of his lust.
	Yue thrust down against Touya's body, and for the first time, the movement was 
clumsy, precision giving way before impatience.  "Wipe that -- smirk off," Yue said, 
but what Touya heard lodged inside his ear was, *i could always get lost i could always 
forget everything when your smile live for that smile do you know how far i'd go to 
make your smile be because of be for me?*
	Touya brushed his fingernails up the sleek inside of Yue's thigh, which got 
exactly the reaction he wanted, Yue's body tightening into faster, fiercer movement, 
shoving them both within grasping distance of where they needed to go.  From somewhere, 
Touya found the strength to arch his back, raising his hips up to meet Yue's coming 
down, and Yue's wings snapped out so sharply that a few feathers came loose and spun 
on the gust of air.  Touya was so entranced by their erratic back-and-forth drift 
that he was caught by surprise when warm semen hit him under the chin; somehow he'd 
been subconsciously assuming that Yue would come...magically or something, not the 
ordinary way.
	"Now," Touya demanded, talking as much to himself as he was to Yue.  
"Fuck...*now!*"
	Yue laughed, a hoarse, rusty sound.  He didn't laugh very often.  "Now?"
	Touya convulsed, his body twisted in one direction by gravity and in the other 
by the equally elemental need to bury himself all the way inside his lover.  "Fuck 
you!  Stop -- *now!*" Because Yue was toying with him; he didn't know how he knew 
that (how did he know any of this? how was it possible that he could feel, could hear 
so clearly when he'd almost grown used to being deaf?), but he was sure of it.  Yue 
could finish him off any time he chose, but his languid enjoyment of Touya's arching, 
sweat-slicked body was palpable to Touya's heightened senses.
	"Is that your command?" Yue asked, quite seriously.
	A cautious part of Touya warned him to say no, assured him that Yue was offering 
him a contract of some kind that he couldn't afford to agree to, but that part never 
had a chance.  "Yue!" he barked out, trembling on the edge between imploring and 
disapproving.  "Do as I say!"
	The smile that dawned across Yue's cold face was beautiful, and so razor-like 
that when he parted his lips slightly, Touya expected to see dark blood dribbling 
out.  "Oh, yes," he said, seeming to savor the words, and punctuating them with 
memory-demons that made no sense to Touya, a quick, jagged volley of *i used to hate 
you* and *regretted after it was over* and *not real and i don't fucking care i won't.*
	None of it meant anything, and none of it mattered, because Yue did something 
as minor and as devastating as the tiny snap of a wrist that sends the knife flying, 
and the only thoughts in Touya's head were his own as he rode out the wave of his 
orgasm until he was so wrung-out that his body ached blissfully with it.
	When he opened his eyes, Touya thought his vision was blurred, but after 
blinking a couple of times, he realized that the shape of Yue's wings was growing 
vague -- that *they* were blurring.  They seemed to thin as he watched, fading out, 
and Touya found his voice so that he could say, "Are you all right?"
	Yue yawned deeply, folding his hands behind his head and moving his elbows 
toward each other first in front of himself and then behind to stretch.  "You've worn 
me out," he said with an ambiguous smile.
	He rolled off of Touya and would have simply dropped like dead weight to the 
bed, except that Touya grabbed him and lowered him down instead.  Yue smiled 
indulgently, patting Touya's cheek.  "You can't stay like this, can you?" Touya 
realized.
	The smile turned a little grim.  "You wouldn't really want me to...would you 
-- To-ya?"
	Touya's stomach clenched as his rational mind took over briefly, waking up from 
a short but deep sleep and seeing nothing but a man that Touya barely knew, naked 
and half-asleep in Yukito's half of the bed.  Of course, it wasn't that simple, but 
it felt-- It felt--
	Well.  Dammit.  Touya didn't *know* how it felt.  Not like anything he'd 
experienced before, and it had been a long time since Touya had perceived himself 
as young, but he was doing it now.  Next to Yue, with his tangled feelings and his 
chaotic eyes, Touya was an absolute child.
	"Going somewhere?" Yue inquired as Touya got out of bed, testing his body for 
soreness and finding only trace amounts.  Touya went for the robe that was folded 
on top of his dresser, pausing long enough to dry himself off quickly with his 
discarded shirt before he slipped the robe on.
	"Kitchen," Touya said, afraid to look back over his shoulder.  "When he wakes-- 
when you wake up, you'll be hungry."
	"Starving," Yue agreed in a weighty tone that Touya couldn't quite decipher.  
If he were closer -- in contact -- if Yue's emotions were riding the fever-pitch they 
had been only minutes ago--
	Touya crushed the uncomfortable sense of yearning that was beginning to unfold 
at the base of his brain.  It had the sickly, poppy scent of obsession, and Touya 
shied away from it with instinctive revulsion.  "Go to sleep," he said briefly.  "I'll 
fix something you can have in the morning."
	"Whatever you like."  Yue's words were a little slurred, but the satisfaction 
in his voice came through clearly.  It seemed to settle around Touya's throat like 
a noose that hadn't yet been tightened.