Muraki/Oriya, my Yami no Matsuei OTP. I did the best I could to keep them in character. I enjoyed writing this. It's quite easy to take advantage of Oriya's hopeless devotion.

Silver Nocturne

The night was still, the bright moon rising, cradled within the navy-black hues of dusk. A few stars embellished the sky—distant, faint illuminations dancing in place for those who care to notice and admire their subtle brilliance. And safely concealed by bedroom walls from these nighttime's natural irises was a beauty unrivaled even by the magnificent spectacle of moonrise.

A sigh floated through the air as in the darkness a warm, vulnerable neck was kissed by lips and breath too cold to be human. Quiet whispers were exchanged, sweet in their gentleness yet hot in their passion, between the two figures lying in each other's arms, lovers separated from the rest of the world by the shroud of night.

There was a soft, aroused sound from the submissive party as the silver fallen angel kissed him. The thin outline of that trademark arrogant smirk was visible to him from below, a slash mark across the unbroken shadows. "Oriya." He heard his name murmured into his ear by the one he, perhaps, loved, and he closed his eyes as Muraki's fingers found their way into his dark hair once again.

Oriya watched Muraki's unchanging expression through half-lidded eyes as the doctor's fingers slid between the strands of silk. Muraki was unreadable, as usual. His intent never seemed clear. Even his eyes, the "windows to the soul," wouldn't disclose his thoughts; so methodically was he able to glaze those portals. As it stood, Oriya could only hope to understand Muraki's desires through the erotic attentions given by him.

Lost in the ecstasy of the moment, Oriya opened his legs a little wider, his fingers gripping the material of his clothing beneath him, licentiously torn open to reveal his muscular but slender body. Muraki took quick action in response, his hand dipping between Oriya's thighs and covering the warm flesh with tempting caresses. These continued until Oriya reached between his own legs and took Muraki's hand.

"Are you done fondling me?" he demanded breathily. "Or do you plan to memorize every curve of my body before fucking me?"

At his words Muraki chuckled, moonlight-colored irises mocking his friend. "Heh… I've had plenty of time to familiarize myself with your body, Oriya."

Oriya's eyes narrowed fractionally as a faint blush colored his cheeks, but as Muraki grasped his hips and prepared his entrance, arousal replaced embarrassment and a low moan rose from Oriya's throat like smoke.

Muraki leaned forward to kiss Oriya, and at the same time their lips met he plunged inside of the smaller body beneath him. Oriya gasped at the sudden discomfort, Muraki skillfully taking advantage of the slight parting of his lips. Meanwhile the silver phantom continued working his way into his playmate.

Vaguely he felt Muraki comb intimately through his hair. He was breathing hard and fast enough to make his lungs ache, struggling to sustain the delicious agony of a man penetrating his body in a way a sword never could have; cutting through him, claiming him, marking him from within. Oriya's back arched in sync with one of the aggressive thrusts; Muraki's hand slipped beneath him, and wrapping his arms around him, Muraki embraced him.

Delirium heightened as the level of sensuality in their union skyrocketed, leaving room for no thought or physical sensation other than those presented by the alarmingly kinky sex they were having. A wild grin was plastered onto Muraki's face as he ground deeper into his lover's heat, drinking Oriya's carnal pleas. The aura of lust, which was accompanied by something akin to dementia, settled thick and heavy in the air around them. Sharp breath and romantic whispers rose and encircled them, a vapor permeating the atmosphere; Oriya's skin was stretched to the limit and a half-scream showed he was aware of this… And, overwhelmingly suddenly, it was over.

Oriya lay panting in Muraki's arms, beads of sweat already evaporating from his skin. He could hear Muraki murmuring, "Oriya, my Oriya…" into his hair. Comforted by this gentle warmth, Oriya closed his half-raised eyelids and allowed Muraki's deep voice to lull him into slumber.

[-]

Oriya awoke in the morning in the same position in which he'd fallen asleep. Raising his eyes, he was met with silver orbs peering into his contrastingly amber-colored ones. A thin smile played over the other's mouth, and the first thing Oriya said was, "Muraki."

"Good morning," Muraki said to him. Oriya offered a small smile before pressing himself up against Muraki, whom he let kiss him once, and closing his eyes again.

Without opening them, he murmured, "How was I?"

Muraki chuckled. "I enjoyed you well. You're an exceptional toy. Oriya." He stroked Oriya's face. Oriya was silent for a moment. He wasn't dissatisfied with Muraki's answer; it was, in fact, better than what he might've expected. Still…

Ah, what the hell. He would try.

"I love you," Oriya said quietly. There was no reaction of Muraki's that gave away any surprise; Oriya sort of doubted there was any. The only response he received was more of the fond touches. After an extended silence during which Oriya had assumed he'd been ignored, he heard his name again, as well as a quiet something or other with the work "beautiful" in it.

No emotional backlash stuck him, as he may have anticipated. He cares for me enough to make love to me without intending to bring harm to me, Oriya thought. He resettled into his sleeping position and allowed lethargy to overcome him as surely as Muraki had the previous night. And as long as he'll let me be the object of his lust once in a while, as long as he keeps humoring me a little longer…

…Then the distinction between sex for love and sex for sex…

…doesn't matter.

© Shadows Underground 2007