Kurogane can't seem to shake the stench—the salty sweat glistening on his brow as he heaves the bag of flour over his shoulder. What is he doing, running Fai's errands after a hard day's work? And what meal requires an entire sack of flour, anyway?
He reaches their land just as the sun sets over the trees, bathing him in a sumptuous red glow. The house comes into view, and with it, Fai, waving an arm high above his head, his shouts dancing over the hills.
"Kuro-san, Kuro-rin!"
Kurogane tosses the bag at Fai's feet with a gentle snort.
"Good to see you, too, Kuro-san."
Kurogane takes a seat on the front step, shoulders slouched, assuming a severe pout.
"What's the matter, my love?" Fai singsongs, plopping himself down not two inches from the warrior's face. "Long day of battle?"
"Good of you to notice."
"Come now, don't look so down." Fai touches the tip of Kurogane's firm chin with a slim white hand. "Kuro-puu, will you look at me?"
Kurogane looks. Fai meets his gaze, pale blue eyes assuming a warmth Kurogane hadn't thought possible, even of him.
That's not all. The wizard's smiling—not the stiff upturning of mouth, the clenching of jaw muscles. Not the smile he did so often before. No, this one touches those cheeks, those eyes, even his posture. He's wearing a kimono Kurogane hasn't seen before—a swish of blue silk, fanning out at his sleeves and hips, adorned in elaborate swirls of gold. He's even wearing a matching butterfly clip, the ornamental fool. It's tangled between his long waves of hair—hair that tumbles over his shoulders and down his back like water over stones.
"I'm looking," Kurogane mutters.
"Like what you see?"
Ah, yes. This is the complete moron he's pledged his life to.
"Shut up."
"Kuro-rin."
"You, uh." Kurogane clears his throat loudly. "You look nice. I guess."
"Oh, Kuro-sama, ever the romantic." Fai sighs, stretching himself languidly in the warrior's direction. Kurogane holds up a warning hand.
"You do realize I'm filthy, right?"
"Nothing the onsen can't solve, I suppose."
The idea isn't a bad one. Kurogane pulls himself to his feet, offering a hand to Fai, in turn. "You're okay with getting wet? After you went to all the trouble to—" he pauses, looking Fai over once, twice. A third time.
Fai's laugh floats about them, a protective quilt. "Truth be told, Kuro-puu, I've been bored stiff all day. I got all ready, and you weren't even due back for another three hours!"
"Wouldn't kill you to join me when I go into town once in awhile."
"I suppose not, but I thought I'd leave all the physical labor to the big man." Fai stretches his arms behind his head; the sleeves of his kimono drape down, revealing long, pale limbs. "Another time, perhaps," he murmurs, just as Kurogane's about to protest. "I can tell you want that onsen, anyway. Let's get going!"
The hot spring's not a minute's walk from their home, buried in an alcove of lush green trees. Fai's swishing on ahead, hopping lightly from rock to rock, almost falling several times but catching himself gracefully. Turning back every few seconds; playfully whining at his Kuro-sama to hurry up, already.
Kurogane doesn't waste a second undressing—he's perspiring heavily by now, his clothing completely drenched through. The onsen is even warmer than usual for this time of year. Kurogane inhales, allowing himself to find comfort in it. His shoulders slacken; he actually sighs.
"That's my Kuro-sama," Fai says softly, the kimono slipping off his shoulders, landing in a delicate heap on the rocks. As he tugs the clip from his hair, Kurogane can't help but drink in those flaxen waves, spiraling over slender limbs, now down to his buttocks—and yet, covering absolutely nothing.
"No peeking, Kuro!" Fai teases, leaping into the water—only to let out a yelp at the heat, pawing at himself like a wounded cat. Kurogane heaves a laugh, taking the moment to admire Fai's rolling shoulders, the jiggle of firm buttocks. Fai can't be entirely let off the hook, either; as soon as he recovers, he takes a long look Kurogane's broad chest, his sturdy shoulders and rocklike torso. Why shouldn't he indulge himself, too, after all?
Shaking his head in wonderment, Kurogane follows Fai into the water, first one foot, then the other. He submerges himself entirely for a moment, reveling in the gentle, rolling waves, in how clean he feels already. When his head breaks the surface, Fai's face is right up against his.
"Hey!" Kurogane shouts, pulling back as Fai quakes with laughter. "Just what are you—"
"Relax, Kuro-puu." Fai's smile is the touch of a feather. "Allow yourself that. I promise I'll make it worth your while."
He's beautiful. This knowledge hits Kurogane like a blow. He's always known it, obviously, but there's something soothing in Fai's steady gaze, the way the ends of his hair swim about on the surface of the water. Those warm, reassuring words—they could be whispering sweet nothings or offering Kurogane the world; it's all the same to him. In that moment, it's everything he wants, could ever need.
Fai closes the distance between them, seating himself on Kurogane's lap and pulling those burly arms around him, massaging each roughened finger with his elegant ones. The tension drops from the warrior's shoulders; he allows himself to bury his mouth in the crook of Fai's neck, planting a series of chaste pecks down the wizard's right shoulder. Kurogane can feel his love's smile against his bronzed cheek.
"Tell me about your day," Fai suggests.
"Intruders in the next village over—" Kurogane pauses, planting a large, indulgent kiss on Fai's neck. "Had to … detain … " A languorous suck for every slight pause. Fai's shivers reverberate through the balmy air.
"All that, and you even had time to fetch me that flour," Fai says, turning to straddle Kurogane, slinging his arms around the ninja's sturdy neck. "My brave, strong Kuro-sama."
"It's just flour," Kurogane shrugs.
"You weren't singing that tune five minutes ago."
"Guess not."
Fai's lips meet Kurogane's own; he sucks at the warrior's generous lower lip as Kurogane tangles his hands in Fai's hair. Fai shudders, letting out a breathy gasp as he slides his hands over his love's shoulders, down his sides. Kurogane can feel himself hardening as Fai's hands push through the water, down his waist and over his hips. He swears he feels a hardness of Fai's own against his leg, though perhaps he's imagining it.
"Mm? What's this?" Fai teases, slipping a hand between Kurogane's legs. His cheeks, already flushed from the sweltering heat, flare up even further. Kurogane's flush, though not as obvious, forces its way through his dark tan. If the redness doesn't give him away, his slackening jaw surely does.
"F-Fai," Kurogane trembles, as the wizard takes him in hand.
"Good?"
"Mm-hm."
Kurogane sinks back against the mossy turf, sucking in a series of ragged breaths as Fai strokes him—gently, languorously. He's getting far too good at this; it's usually the other way around. Kurogane always—
"Hold on—to me, Kuro. Ah—" Fai's hand reaches back further as Kurogane throbs and trembles beneath him. He keeps up the massage, firmly and gently all at once, while touching his puckered mouth to Kurogane's own. He even dares to suckle the ninja's neck—once, twice, though refusing to draw blood—not this time, anyway. In this moment, he's determined that this should be all for his love. Especially after his day of rigorous battle, his day of defending their home, their town.
"Fai—" Kurogane manages, just as his neck slackens and his head tilts backwards, leaving his throat completely exposed. Fai's hair—the hair that Kurogane can't seem to stop thinking about—drapes over his shoulders, down his arms, as the mage strokes quicker, more urgently.
"Kuro, how are you—" Fai falters.
"I'm, ah—" Kurogane swallows, breaths pushing up one against the other in quick succession. "I'm good."
"Good. Perfect," Fai purrs. Kurogane's arms wrap, at last, around Fai's body, taking solace in those thin hips, that lanky, slight frame, working itself in gyrations against his larger one. Sucking, thrusting, massaging. The man really knows something of magic after all.
"Fai—" Kurogane moans, feeling his legs, and the space in between, tremble. "Keep—keep doing that. I'm—"
"Kuro-rin," Fai breathes, rubbing his hips against Kurogane's, creating friction even in the tranquil waves.
"Say that. Say that again."
Fai's strokes grow lavish. "Kuro. Kuro-rin. Kuro-sama, my beautiful Kur—"
Kurogane lets out a jerking undulation and comes into the water, just up against Fai's hipbones. Fai sighs shakily as Kurogane's hands fall away, limp at their sides. He's senseless for several moments, but he refuses to allow himself the weakness for long. He pulls himself out of the onsen, standing on legs that aren't quite as sturdy, somehow.
Fai slips out after him, all long legs and torso. He gives Kurogane's rear end a playful pat.
"You really were senseless, Kuro-puu!"
"C'mere," Kurogane snarls affectionately, grabbing Fai from behind as the wizard kicks out, shrieking with delight.
"Kuro-puu, Kuro-puu, stop it!"
Kurogane lets Fai go free, but not without a momentary struggle. The mage pulls his kimono over his body, not even bothering to fasten it. He's indecent, he's exposed, he's downright disreputable. Kurogane's heart slams against his chest, each reverberation a hit in the heat of battle.
Fai is sopping wet—he's ruining his clothing, really—but his blue eyes gleam with pride. Not to mention his long legs are poking out from under the bunched-up fabric, taunting Kurogane in all their sleek glory.
The ninja sits Fai down on the nearest rock, pulls the swirling blue fabric aside, and runs his hands up and down those glorious legs; plants a series of kisses along them, even.
"Kuro-san, that tickles!" Fai gasps.
"Oh, shut up," Kurogane dotes.
The kisses, the strokes, continue until the sun has completely lost itself to the horizon. The stars shine above them, pinpricks of blue and gold.
They stumble over the rocks back to their home. Fai's rambling on about just what he's planning for that huge sack of flour, but Kurogane's barely listening. The soft notes of the wizard's singsonging speech are more than enough. Fai teases his Kuro-sama for being so slow, only to dance off ahead as Kurogane chases him, calling out halfhearted insults.
In one short moment, it occurs to the warrior how much they've gained, how much they gain every evening. It could be a night in the onsen, or a shared meal, or sleeping under the cherry blossoms, the scattering of stars. It's quiet and uneventful, really, but it's nice. Kurogane, always one to spit fire, to draw his sword and ask questions later, is surprised that he, of all people, should harbor this sentiment.
And yet, one look at Fai—the playful, idiotic, ethereal Fai—is enough to dispel his doubts immediately. To have such a hold over the warrior, in his butterfly-clipped, sopping-haired glory, is, in many ways, the greatest magic of all. Kurogane doesn't think to question it any further.