Title: Contrasts and Comforts
Fandom: Tsubasa RESERVoir CHRoNiCLE
Pairing: Kurogane/Fai
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 885
Summary/Description: What they have now. A necessity, and yet, something like comfort, a little bit like love.
Warning/Spoilers: SPOILERS LIEK WHOA FOR CHAPTER 125. Shounen-ai.
A/N: Guess what? I wrote this, and I like it (even though it's kinda… iffy). :D Can I get a gold button? I even squeezed in some PG-13-ness this time. XD This was written before I got past Chapter 125, BTW.
Disclaimer: TRC © CLAMP.
He holds him fragilely, as if he is delicate and prone to breaking, and the irony of it almost makes Kurogane laugh. They are so different, but in these moments, it is like their positions are reversed. The fingers that press ever so lightly into his neck and cup his chin with hesitance communicate the world of discomfort. Fai does not want to do this.
But they have no choice.
Well, that is not altogether accurate. Back then, Kurogane had had a choice. He could have let Fai die… or not.
Not much of a choice after all.
He knows that Fai feels like he owes him something, which is plain bloody bull-shit, simply put. He did what he had to, nothing more, nothing less. If the mage never tries to repay him, he will outright strangle him; never mind the trouble he went through to save his life in the first place. The mage sure has some screwed sort of logic of he thinks that Kurogane will let him attempt any sort of recompense, much to less to let him die in the first place. Yeah, so he redefines being annoying, and he sometimes drives him to thoughts of bloody murder. It doesn't change a thing. The mage will die when Kurogane bloody well says he can.
The blond leans forward, dips his head, and the ninja's thoughts flicker out like a candle in a storm. From his prone position on the bed, he can see a swatch of pale skin afforded by the parted folds of Fai's robe, which slips down a little further with every inch he moves. When telling heat rises to his tanned cheeks, Kurogane tells himself he shouldn't be looking there, and forces his gaze elsewhere. It falls on the cerulean eyes, half-way lidded and cloudy. They fully distract him for the next three seconds in which it takes Fai to complete his measured descent, and latch his lips onto the small gash in Kurogane's throat.
The warrior gasps, but does not attempt to hide, suppress, or make light of it; he has already resigned himself to the fact that there will be no getting used to this. Fai's mouth is warm as it works over the small wound, drawing out blood in long, slow sips. With each movement, another bit of Kurogane's breath is lost to the atmosphere, and he suddenly does not have the energy or will to take it back. He tells himself it is because of the blood loss, and nothing else, and wonders what is the sense in lying to himself.
Fai's gentle fingers turn Kurogane's head to the side in order to have better access, while his knees are planted on either side of his companion's waist. Kurogane places his hands on the magician's shoulders to steady himself. Fai is cold to the touch, but yet radiates a sort of heat. It is dizzying and confusing, like a fever and its effects.
He can feel the blood leaving him in small amounts; can hear the sound of Fai swallowing, loud in his ears like the sound of a conch. Those long fingers are making their way into his hair, mayhap without even realising it. As if taking a cue from them, the brunet's own fingers make a sweep down and up the smaller man's back, totally of their own violation. Kurogane only belatedly realises what his appendages have done, whereupon he firmly anchors them to Fai's shoulders once again. The wizard continues to drink of him, carefully, almost reverently.
The ninja stiffens a little when a tongue makes contact with his skin, but he allows Fai to lick at the traces of blood that escape his mouth and the premeditated wound. He feels the dull scrape of canines near, but not quite along his arteries, like a devilish tease. His breathing comes harsher, quicker. His fingers tighten imperceptibly on the other man's shoulders, and he waits for him to drink his fill.
Fai finishes off with a long, slow lick. Opening his eyes (when did he close them…?) Kurogane sees him swiping off hints of crimson off of his lips with his tongue. Wordlessly, Fai grabs a cloth from the table nearby, and presses it to Kurogane's throat to stop up the bleeding. He shifts slightly so that his forehead can press against the other man's sternum, and softly, he sighs.
Kurogane's large hand moves down to the small of Fai's back, instead of ordering the mage up and off him. This time, head clear, composure regained and thinking clearly, Kurogane sees the gesture for what it is; something like comfort, a little bit like love. He closes his eyes again, and he suppresses a minute growl as his sub-consciousness finally voices the word. Just as he knows that there is no getting used to this, he knows that there is no denying it, either.
One hand is still on Fai's shoulder; the pinky touches pallid skin while the other fingers grasp cloth. For a while, Kurogane is caught by the contrast; tanned and pale, tanned and pale. They are different, there is no doubt about it. But when Fai is inches from sprawled across Kurogane, shared blood in their systems and an understanding that they slowly reach closer to every day, they are quite almost the same.
A/N: I wasn't sure how Kurogane and Fai would go about the blood-giving thing. Would Fai's canines lengthen so that he could bite him all authentic vampire style, or would they have to induce bleeding for Fai to be able to drink? The latter seemed more probable, so I went with it.
And of course, Kuro-wan could just slash some part of himself, and let the blood flow into a cup for Fai to drink, BUT IT'S MORE FUN THIS WAY. :D
As usual, all comments are appreciated.
Also, totally random: hold your arms out. They're the same length, right? Now, bend one back, and twist on the skin of your elbow a couple times, and then hold your arms out again. Notice something? IT FREAKED ME THE SHIT OUT.