Shuuei sat in the pavilion overlooking the palace lake, watching the curve of the crescent moon's reflection dancing languidly in the water, taunting him. He poured himself another cup of sake, carelessly sloshing it over the brim. He couldn't see exactly straight anymore, but he didn't care either. He downed the entire cupful in one swig and threw the empty cup on the table, making it skid on its side and spin to the other end. A much steadier hand than his stopped it before it slid off and crashed to the ground.
"Is this the proper manner for a shogun of the Imperial Army to conduct himself?" Kouyuu asked sternly.
"Oh, it's you," Shuuei glanced up at him, squinting so he only saw one shock of aqua-colored hair looming before him.
Kouyuu noticed a delicate fan of red silk splayed open on the table in front of his bleary-eyed friend. He sighed. It was that time again.
"Maybe you should go to bed," Kouyuu suggested a bit more gently.
"Why don't you go to bed?" Shuuei replied irritably, attempting to rise, but falling unsteadily back to his seat. "Oh, that's right. You can't find your bed." He laughed at his own cruel joke.
Kouyuu sighed again. He was already too late to avoid the worst. Shuuei had drunk himself into a stupor, and that took quite a lot of sake to do in his case. At this point, the next order of events would be a fist fight with anyone unfortunate enough to walk by. He cursed Shusui under his breath for reducing Shuuei to this state.
"That's right, you horse's ass," Kouyuu stated with annoyance. "I can't find my way home. Will you take me?"
Shuuei wavered in his seat, staring up at the stern expression impatiently glaring down at him. He hiccupped. "Did you just admit to being lost?" he asked. "I must be drunk."
"Never mind," Kouyuu answered impatiently and turned to leave, glancing sidelong to see if his friend took the bait.
"Kou--yuuuu," Shuuei sang in a playfully slurring voice. "I'll take you home. Don't be mad at me."
He rose from his seat, clumsily knocking the chair over backwards in a loud clatter that echoed around the quiet garden. He stared at the toppled chair in surprise, and then looked over at Kouyuu's disgusted expression.
"Oops," he said and began snickering, as he stumbled toward Kouyuu. He threw his arm around his friend's neck and tugged him into a headlock. "Hey, you're kinda cute," he observed, squinting his eyes and closely scanning the look of discomfort on the younger man's face. "Ooooh, and you're really cute when you blush."
"Go to hell!" Kouyuu shouted back and struggled to get out of Shuuei's grip. Considering how unsteady the drunken general was, Kouyuu knew he could easily just push him over if he really wanted to escape, but he also understood how much Shuuei enjoyed toying with him. He glanced at the fan on the table. Tonight, he would play along.
"Sheesh, make up your mind," Shuuei tried to straighten up and look commanding. "Do you want me to go to hell…" then his voice lowered and he leaned in close to Kouyuu, "or take you to your bed?"
"Go straight to hell!" Kouyuu yelled, shoving Shuuei off him, and spun around to storm off. Shuuei caught his hand, still clenched in a fist, and yanked him back to him, pinning him against a pillar with his body. Kouyuu rolled his eyes. Here we go again, he thought wearily.
"Come on…Kouyuu-kun," Shuuei teased in a soft voice. "You don't know what you're missing."
"Kun?!" Kouyuu exclaimed wide-eyed. "I don't…cavort…with perverts."
"Cavort?" Shuuei pulled his head back in surprise. "Wow, that sounds sexy when you say it. Cavort with me…Kouyuu-kuuun."
"I'm tired," Kouyuu answered, his nose turned up at Shuuei. "Unlike some people, I work hard all day and don't have time for debauchery."
"Are you trying to turn me on?" Shuuei groaned. "I love it when you talk dirty… cavorting … now debauchery …mmmm…."
Kouyuu smelled the strong scent of sake on Shuuei's breath as he leaned in close to him and playfully nuzzled his ear. Kouyuu clenched his eyes shut and waited. He could feel the warmth of Shuuei's cheek nearly, but not quite, touching his. He took a deep breath, willing his pounding heart not to expose his nervousness. He flinched and his eyes popped open when he felt firm lips brush over his.
"That felt nice, Kouyuu-kun," Shuuei whispered against his mouth.
Kouyuu looked down. He would not, could not, make eye-contact at that moment. He had his limits to how much he would put up with and they were nearing that point. It didn't help that Shuuei's lips grazed his with tantalizing tenderness, his thumb stroking gently over Kouyuu's cheek. Helplessly, he trembled under his friend's feathery touch, and heard the sharp intake of Shuuei's breath in response.
"Oh, Kouyuu…" Shuuei grinned. "You do like me."
"Take me home. Take me home right now!" Kouyuu demanded, mortified at his own weakness. It was one thing to let Shuuei have some fun. It was quite something else to let him callously ridicule feelings that Kouyuu didn't want, but also didn't want to lose.
"Whoa! I had no idea you'd want me that badly," Shuuei smirked, teasing his friend.
"Just shut up. I don't need your help!" Kouyuu shouted, his voice cracking, and shoved Shuuei away with all his strength, knocking him back against the table. Shuuei stared at him, aghast.
"Go home before you make an even bigger ass of yourself!" Kouyuu barked. "And don't forget your fan."
As soon as he'd said it, he crumbled inside. Guilt stabbed his heart when he saw the stricken look on Shuuei's face. The wounded expression faded into a bitter smirk, and Shuuei reached behind him to scoop up the fan.
"This old thing?" he said quietly. He stood up and turned away from Kouyuu. The younger man watched as Shuuei raised the fan up to the sky, spreading it open so it veiled the opalescent moon behind it. The intricate and complex pattern of the weave indicated its high quality and rare fabric. The silk was so sheer that it seemed it would tear if not handled gently. It occurred to Kouyuu that it was a great deal like Shusui, its owner—lovely and fragile to see, but actually constructed of durable materials. It was the exact opposite of Shuuei—rugged on the outside, but infinitely breakable.
Shuuei snapped the fan shut. "This isn't mine," he added with resignation. "This will never be mine."
Kouyuu stepped forward, resting his hand hesitantly on Shuuei's broad back, and reached around to slide the closed fan out of his hand and lay it on the table. He put his own hand in Shuuei's empty one and turned the taller man toward him, so he could no longer see the cast away fan. Tentatively, awkwardly, trembling with vulnerability, Kouyuu lifted his mouth to press a timid kiss to Shuuei's lips. He lowered his eyes and clutched his friend's hand even tighter.
"Take me home, Shuuei," he whispered and swallowed his nervousness.
Shuuei gasped softly in surprise, lost to the heartrending warmth in Kouyuu's voice and touch. He hesitated, his troubled gaze cast over the tumble of aqua-colored hair that he knew was softer than it looked.
"Are you sure?" Shuuei had to ask. "Do you…want…me?"
Hearing the shy, defenseless quaver in the cocky general's voice struck Kouyuu straight to his heart. He nodded almost imperceptibly, his eyes still downcast, and adjusted his hold on Shuuei's hand for emphasis. "If you make a joke, I'll kill you," Kouyuu warned gently.
"I won't make a joke," Shuuei assured him and lifted his chin to return a deeper, more insistent, more promising kiss.
.
"I…I…don't know what to do," Kouyuu confessed, looking up at Shuuei with imploring eyes, both fiery and frightened at the same time.
"That's ok," Shuuei answered, smiling softly, his brows drawn up at the impossible cuteness of his companion. "Don't I always show you the way?"
Kouyuu nodded, and bit his lip to hold back an impish smile, which made Shuuei's heart jump.
"Come on," he moved forward, tugging Kouyuu's hand still firmly encased in his. "Kouyuu-kun."
"Ok, that stops right now," Kouyuu insisted, his voice rising, but he continued to follow Shuuei.
"All right, all right," Shuuei conceded. "You're just so cute."
Their playfully arguing voices drifted into the night as they headed off into their unknown future, leaving the elegant and lonely fan behind them on the table, quivering under the waning moon.