A Thousand Nights
Long fingers ran across the other's chest, tracing muscles and scars in lazy, light patterns slowly down his torso, only coming to rest when they reached the line of short, dark hair that separated the acceptable from the forbidden. A single yellow eye flicked up, searching out red ones in the darkness, looking for acceptance. The other nodded, a deep blush already turning his tan skin red. He was allowed to touch him – just as he had been allowed all those hundred times before, just as he would allow him a thousand times and more.
The yellow eyed one allowed himself a grin as he raised himself up to straddle the larger man, pale skin pressed against tan as he leaned down, lips brushing against his partner's - a sweet taste of what was to come.
A large hand trailed down his spine, following every slight dip and curve of his back. He moaned into the other's mouth, months of going without this making him all that more sensitive to every touch and every lingering caress. Before, it had been forbidden – the contact unwanted and unnecessary. Before it had been too much – the strain pulling at still healing stitches, blood loss making it hard for the larger of them to stay aware and focused, no matter how he needed to feel the other's hand in his own.
Those old wounds had healed with time.
They moved slowly, savouring each touch and kiss, the motions that had been half forgotten coming quickly back as they began to move together in disjointed harmony. They did not speak during this time, they never did, letting their bodies instead show just how much they missed each other, missed this, wanted this, and needed this. They gasped and moaned and whispered half formed words, sighing and singing together as a single organism, bound together by pain and loss and familiarity.
As sweat cooled and sparks faded into sleepy ecstasy, the blond would lean down; lightly kissing the place where skin met metal. The other would push himself up, lips brushing against the black fabric that hid the older man's missing eye. He would promise silently that he could and would get that eye back. A yellow eye would smile as if he trusted the other.
They would sleep together, legs and arms twisted round each other, missing limbs and missing eyes temporarily forgotten in the dreamless night.
Shaoran would lay awake, shuddering and horrified and really wishing he had chosen a room farther away from the two adults.