Lag was lying on bed, staying awaked. His eyes gazed vacantly toward the starry sky. He had enough counting the stars yet he was still unable to sleep.

Next to him, sleeping in a deep slumber was Gauche. His expression was serene and his breath was even. His arm loosely encircled Lag's waist. Every part of him radiated peace.

Lag looked at him closely. Absentmindedly, Lag's fingers traced Gauche's face. Then, he realized the presence of a scar on the right side of Gauche's cheek, just below his eye.

Lag was wondering. His mind started counting and recounting events, searching for the cause of the scar.

Then, he remembered. It was when Gauche delivered him as a letter. His shindanjuu reacted when Lag held it. Rain of black needles stormed their surrounding. One shot hit Gauche.

A pang of guilt crept in. He had scarred a friend most important to him. A few drops of tears fell to his cheek.

Lag moved closer toward Gauche. His fingers clung on Gauche's night shirt. His face on Gauche's chest. Silently he sobbed.

To his surprise, he felt Gauche's arm tightened, drawing him closer. He heard Gauche murmured incomprehensible endearments to his ears.

Lag looked at Gauche. As light as a feather, their noses brushed.

He heard Gauche mumbling softly. Startled, he looked at Gauche's inertly.

"Gauche are you awaked?"

There was no reply.

Once again, Lag brushed his nose on Gauches. This time, their lips slightly touched.

He heard Gauche muffled and saw him smiled in his sleep.

This made his heart swelled. All Gauche did in his sleep have made his heart more endearing toward Gauche.

Gauche stirred and turned to lie on his back.

Gingerly, Lag sat on the edge of the bed near Gauche's hand. He leaned forward slowly, until his face is only a few centimeters from his. Their faces were so close that Lag could sense the warmth of Gauche's breath and the sweet scent of his body.

With infinite care, Lag lay down beside Gauche. He waited, listening to the silence, until he resolved to rest his hand on Gauche's belly in an almost imperceptible caress. With that touch a suffocating wave flooded his body. For a moment, Lag was worried that the sound of his heart was echoing through the house and would wake Gauche.

It was several minutes before he recovered, and when he realized Gauche had not moved, Lag relaxed. He let his arm fall limp - its weight so slight that it did not alter Gauche's sleep.

Lag fingers slid underneath Gauche's night shirt; shyly he caressed the flesh underneath, savoring the warmth and texture. As his fingers crept beneath the lace of Gauche's undershorts, Lag sought Gauche's lips and kissed him as he had so often kissed the mirror.

Still asleep, Gauche moaned. He wrapped his arm around Lag's waist and his lips opened, returning the kiss. Their lips interlocked before Lag drew back, hesitation crept into his heart silently.

Softly, he whispered Gauche's name.

Lag pressed himself more closely to Gauche. He took Lag by the waist and pulled him atop him, settling Lag on his body as he began the first movement of love.

Then, sensing the extreme fragility of that bird-like skeleton on his chest, a spark of awareness flashed through the cottony fog of sleep, and he opened his eyes. He felt how Lag's body tense.

"Lag... What are we doing?"