I feel poetic.

Warnings: Shonen-ai, short length.

Disclaimer: Don't own Digimon.

The Kiss

His lips were burning again.

Koushirou took his cold fingers and brought them to the fire on his flesh, trying his best to soothe it. However, this was futile, for it created nothing but sweat, which drenched his palms and made the heat on his lips steam. As he lowered his eyelids, his eyes were like coals, hard and smoky.

He tasted desire on his lips as he stared at the rosy cheek, the same pinkness that he had graced six years before. His fingers itched to touch the skin, to discover why his lips had refused to cease their burning for all of those years. It looked so smooth and innocent, yet its pretense had done its work and seared the feeling into his memory. While he knew the reason why he could never put that small, quick kiss on the cheek out of his mind, he still wondered why its immediate effects had lasted for so long. It didn't make sense.

His fingers curled and uncurled, fingertips grazing the sweat of his palms as he looked at that cheek. Sometimes it laughed in bunches of folds, other times it frowned with the skin pulled taut. Shade was like a curtain for the rest of the body; however, like a spotlight, a small patch of sun hit the one spot that his lips had brushed.

He remembered before the kiss, how much he had longed to cradle his love in his arms, nurture him and care for him, for he understood him like no one else. He didn't know how or why, but there was something about him that entranced Koushirou, and he refused to shrug off the feeling. It haunted him night and day, and he knew that it would not leave him until his lips touched the boy of his desires. And oh, how he desired him.

He remembered how he had moved towards him, his heart quickening with every inch closing between them. He felt this inexplicable urge in his lips to kiss him, and they itched so badly that he had pressed them together in every attempt to cease it. However, it persisted with such pleading that before he knew it, his eyelids began to lower and his lips were touching the sweet, gentle flesh of that cheek. He had pulled away in surprise as the skin torched them with an unpredictable blaze of flames.

Koushirou sighed as he watched Taichi fold his hands behind his head and lean against the tree - that tree - in daydreaming. He stared up at the leaves, which were glowing with the thought of springtime, and ran his hand through his hair like the soft breeze that accompanied the gentle day. Koushirou wondered how honeybees were not attracted to Taichi's eyes, for they were overflowing with sweet honey. He looked down from his watchtower, the top of a rusty old slide with dents devastating the metal, and took in a deep breath. Did Taichi know how badly he had scalded him?

Taichi was lost in thought and pondering as well, his mind fervently searching. His cheek was prickling again, sending sparks straight into his vision. Ever since he had awakened from a nap six years ago, under the very same tree, sharp volts had radiated from his left cheek unexpectedly. It wasn't incessantly, but it happened enough times for Taichi not to consider it unusual. Still, he pondered the cause, but after all of the Internet searching in the world, he could not figure out the reason behind it. So, he grew accustomed to it; in fact, he almost grew to like it.

As electricity surged from his skin, searching for something to attract, he began to go through the events of that day for the ten-millionth time since, trying to decipher what had happened, what had made this strange tingling occur.

He had indulged in a game of soccer, excelling in his usual way, before decided to rest against a small oak tree. He had intended to close his eyes, just for a moment, but he drifted off into a light doze. He barely remembered his dream, but all he could recall was the small shock that had taken over his body, and he felt this instinctive attraction flood him like a wave of voltage. When he had awoken, it was only him and the oak tree, but his cheek was still filled with static.

Taichi sighed as he couldn't help but bring his hand to the sensitive skin, almost feeling the electric current running through his bloodstream. What was it that had caused this sensation? What incited it? His mind seemed to be on an endless quest.

Something inside Koushirou snapped as he watched Taichi touch his fingers to his cheek, and he slid down the weary slide, flinching at the absorbed heat that burned him on the way down. Taichi looked up as the red-head approached him and dropped to his knees as though he was in worship.

"Please, Taichi-san," he begged, "Tell me. Tell me why your skin has burned me so."

Taichi looked down at Koushirou as the static increased dramatically, and he replied, "Koushirou, I don't know what you're talking about."

Koushirou suddenly felt all of the walls he had built to keep his secrets burn to the ground. "Six years ago," he blurted, "I kissed you."

Taichi stared at him for a moment, blinking, digesting exactly what he had just said. "But I...don't remember you ever..."

"You were asleep," Koushirou confessed, his eyes like diamonds, "and then I kissed you on the cheek."

"You kissed me on the..."

"And ever since then, my lips have burned like fire."

Taichi finally caught hold of his words and replied, "And my cheek has tingled with electricity."

They gazed at each other, dumbfounded, feeling an irrepressible urge to reenact that significant event which occurred six years before. Koushirou leaned closer as he placed a second, sweet kiss on Taichi's waiting cheek, and pulled away, lifting his eyes, and running his tongue over his lips.

The burning was gone.

Taichi realized that the volts in his skin no longer plagued him.

They smiled at each other as they knew: Their hearts would not leave them be until they realized their destinies and fulfilled them.

Lying in each other's arms, they sighed in unison, happy that their minds could finally be at rest.