No. 6 belongs to Asano, Atsuko
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Profuse and exuberant thanks has to be given to Uakari for first editing my comma bereft mess and for giving much needed feedback that improved the final product so much! You are amazing and I will always have an open seat for you here in the gutter of my mind. :P

Warnings: adult situations and sexually explicit

Nezumi had felt cold, the kind that seeped into your bones and threatened to shatter your joints when you moved. He had felt the sort that turned his emotions into lifeless mockeries. When Sion nearly killed himself and Nezumi had realized the sins he had committed against him, he had wept frigid tears. Tonight, he experienced a cold that should have been a fire for the way it raged through his body, but instead of heat, he felt as though he was drowning in a blizzard's snow.

-XXXXXXX-

He stood beneath a harvest moon that filled the autumn sky with enough light to dim the stars and, though he was flushed from the heat of the spring, he felt a cold that caused his skin to prickle and his breath to stagger at its onslaught. Sion had stepped from the room they were sharing and the clear strands of his hair absorbed and refracted the golden, flickering light that spilled out the open door. His eyes were hidden by shadow, but the wide smile that shone through the obscuring darkness triggered conflicting emotions in Nezumi and paralyzed his limbs. The first screamed at him to flee, for there was something monstrous in a grin so unguarded. The second sent a chill shiver down his spine and he licked his lips in anticipation, a predator spying prey or something equally appealing.

His heart beat a powerful rhythm, driving hormone laden blood thorough his veins, saturating the target cells, and leaving him to eye Sion with a rapaciousness that should have sent the young man fleeing. Instead, forever oblivious, Sion continued to stride toward him. 'Or is it a calculated charade?' a creaking voice questioned in a quiet hiss from the Cimmerian darkness in the depths of his mind.

The evening breeze caressed them with sensuous undulations while it stole away the brittle autumn leaves that were lightly tethered to the tree branches extending overhead. When Sion left the small pool of warm illumination of their room and moved into the cooler autumn night, the moonlight flickered through the branches its dappled luminance gliding over his exposed flesh.

The sneer that was both Nezumi's weapon and defense died before it could form. In the years of his absence, Sion had shed the final remnants of adolescence that had clung to him during their time living in the subterranean rooms Nezumi had claimed. The moonlight danced with impish delight across the lean, defined muscles of Sion's arms and chest and dipped low along the flat plane of his abdomen. The shiver Nezumi had felt turned to a shaking that vibrated his teeth as the cold burn of lust stung his flesh. The sensation forced his muscles to contract as he tensed to escape its grasp only to hesitate; Sion's eyes shone in the teasing light with innocence and what Nezumi was thinking was anything but.

-XXXXXXX-

When Sion had walked into the night to meet Nezumi, he had left the languid warmth of their room and found the air outside to have taken on an invigorating coolness. Clothed only in a pair of faded cotton pants whose thin material did nothing to shield him from the elements, he hurried toward Nezumi. Behind him stretched a trail of footprints in the frost, the heat of his body melting the minuscule ice crystals that had formed with the setting of the sun.

Eliminating the distance between them, a bemused smile spread across Sion's face as he recalled his first sight of Nezumi in four years.

Exhaustion had taken his awareness and he dozed, curled in the chair at his desk, a puckish breeze scattering the papers that covered its surface when some change in the atmosphere had pulled his eyelids open and his eyes toward the window. Twilight had painted the sky, and framed against its colorful backdrop Nezumi had stood. Sleep still claiming much of his mind, Sion had prayed that if what he saw was a conjuring of Morpheus, that the deity would keep him bespelled for just a little longer. Intoxicated by Morpheus's illusion, he indulged the longings of his soul and stared unabashedly at Nezumi, his disheveled appearance doing nothing to detract from his allure. Though his clothes were threadbare, their cut and color fit Nezumi's elegant frame well and Sion could make out tantalizing hints of the muscles beneath. The breeze that had scattered his papers now played with Nezumi's hair, the wayward strands teasing the contours of his face and lips before Nezumi tucked them behind one ear. Slowly exhaling, Sion allowed his eyes to continue their meandering path to Nezumi's and, on meeting their silvered light; Sion was enthralled just as he had been on their first viewing. It was Nezumi's familiar smile and "Hey" that had propelled him into the air, his arms locking around Nezumi's solid form and sending them tumbling to the ground outside. He had buried his face into Nezumi's neck, breathing in the faint scent of mint clinging to his skin and if there had been a dampness staining Nezumi's shirt when they parted Nezumi's only acknowledgement of its cause was to trace his thumb under Sion's eye.

Nezumi broke Sion's reverie and the silence between them. "You're grinning like a child," he said, his voice sounding strangely rough to Sion's ears. "Haven't grown up at all," he concluded.

Nezumi had ended his declaration with the mocking edge to his voice that Sion remembered from their time in the West District, but he realized something he had not back then, when he was too dazzled by everything about Nezumi to see deeper into what the other kept hidden. Nezumi was dazzled by him too. "Hahaha," Sion laughed as he self-consciously ran a hand through his hair, "I guess it might seem that way."

"Seem?" Nezumi questioned with a raised eyebrow and a smile that quickly became a smirk.

Sion's laughter cut itself short and his expression became determined; with one hand he reached around to grip Nezumi's neck, his skin burning against Nezumi's icy exterior, with his other, Sion gripped Nezumi's wrist and pulled them together until Nezumi's lithe frame was flush with his. "Seems," Sion confirmed, his lips whispering against Nezumi's.

The nails of Nezumi's hand holding the towel closed at his waist sliced the thin threads and dug into his palm. He had forgotten. He had forgotten how quickly Sion could move, and he had forgotten that Sion was not as weak as he appeared. "I concede," Nezumi said, refusing to lower his voice, though his eyes had widened until the pupils nearly engulfed the irises.

Sion had not expected Nezumi to concede and was thrown off balance by it. "Um, we should go in," he said, restlessly. Nezumi's skin was cold against his own fever-touched flesh. However, instead of cooling him, it enticed him, feeding the heat of his body, and he wondered that Nezumi was not being burned by it.

"Maybe I spoke to soon," Nezumi said with no small amount of arrogance as he brushed past Sion. "Why'd you come out here, you fool?" he asked as he slipped his feet from his shoes before leaving Sion alone out of doors.

'Why had he come out there?' Sion thought, repeating Nezumi's question, not in an attempt to seek the answer for himself, but in shock that Nezumi had not realized it. His eyes locked on Nezumi; Sion marveled that, of the two, he could see clearer. Though Nezumi had traveled and he had remained, he had gained something that Nezumi had not: an understanding of himself.

In the seconds lost to his thoughts, Nezumi had left him behind, and when he hurried to their room, he paused at the entrance, watching as Nezumi tightened the rope that bound his pants to his waist. "I wanted to see you," Sion said, his words filling the room with the tantalizing edge of possibility. "The thought of you so close, but where I couldn't see you was more unbearable than not knowing where you were all these years."

Nezumi glanced at Sion from under the edge of the towel he was using to dry his hair. "I see you still speak without realizing the meaning of your words and you're glaringly innocent because of it," he said, his words coated in a thick layer condescension.

Sion felt his anger flare at Nezumi's tone and, for the second time that day, he launched himself at Nezumi, knocking them to the floor. They landed in a tangle of limbs and breath forced from lungs. There was no planning, nor was it instinct that dictated Sion's next action; his fingers twisted in Nezumi's hair, preventing Nezumi from drawing away even as their bodies continued to wrestle for dominance.

Nezumi was able to hook his ankles around Sion's legs and, with contortions befitting an acrobat, flipped them over. He forced his legs between Sion's and pressed them apart, his hips pressing down on Sion's with enough force to bruise them both. His hands braced against the floor on either side of Sion's head.

Sion had not loosened his grip on Nezumi's hair and pulled until he felt the chill touch of lips over his own. He pushed the heat threatening to engulf him in a storm of fire into Nezumi, his lips tugging softly at Nezumi's and drawing out a faint groan of hunger. Emboldened by this reaction, Sion traced his tongue along the seam of Nezumi's closed lips with a taunting, feather light touch. Breath rattling across his vocal cords in a quiet hum, Sion allowed his mouth to move over Nezumi's with a sensuous slowness that transformed the painful press of Nezumi's hips over his own into a rapturous abrading of their bodies as Nezumi moved to mirror Sion's movements against his mouth. Sion's hands relaxed and Nezumi raised himself, breaking the kiss.

Nezumi gazed at Sion through half lidded eyes, tongue gliding over his lips and gathering the lingering taste of Sion's mouth into him. "That isn't a child's kiss," he said, the low rough tones returning to his voice and sending an excited chill up Sion's spine at the sound.

"There has never been a child's kiss between us," Sion responded quietly and allowed his hands to slip through the dampened silk of Nezumi's hair and run over the scared skin of his back. The tips of his fingers feathered their way over the irregular edge of scar tissue beginning high between Nezumi's shoulders. The flesh was hard and smooth where it was pulled taunt by the keloids- so different from the satin feel of the unblemished skin lower on his back. "You're cold," he said, the words a random flickering of thought given voice as his hands came to rest where the top of Nezumi's pants met his hips.

"And you're hot," Nezumi countered, a hint of derision coloring his voice. "I told you: we're not compatible." His hair fell like a curtain around their faces, hiding their surroundings, keeping their focus fixed on their expressions and the emotions exposed in their eyes.

"Movement," Sion stated as he stared unblinking into the gray tourmaline of Nezumi's eyes.

"What?" Nezumi asked, his brows creasing together in confusion.

"When hot and cold air or liquid come into contact it creates movement. One heats while the other cools in a repeating cycle," Sion explained, his voice sounding as though he were repeating a remembered lesson while his fingertips traced small circles over Nezumi's lower back

Nezumi shook his head. "You will always be a strange one," he told Sion as he started to push himself up.

In response Sion grasped Nezumi's arms. "We're like that. You cool me and I heat you," he said his voice urgent. This was more than a moment's passion and he would make Nezumi understand that.

"Do you even know what you are saying?" Nezumi asked his oft repeated question.

"I always have. It's been you playing the doubting Thomas all this time. Move with me, Nezumi," Sion answered, his words spoken in the low tones of a smoldering heat, the sort that warmed a room long after its light had faded.

"How long does this kind of movement continue?" Nezumi wondered aloud, the icy embodiment of his passion rising like a winter's tempest, freezing the fetters of his control so that the lightest touch would shatter them.

"As long as the sun warms and the night cools, as long as we breathe, as long as eternity," Sion replied his voice not colored by excess emotion for he was stating a simple fact more sure than any law of science waiting to be broken.

A crocked smile crossed Nezumi's face and he gave a quiet chuckle. "Only you would try to seduce someone using science as poetry." Before Sion could respond, Nezumi severed the last of the fetters he had used to restrain his passions and pressed their bodies together. "Alright, then. Warm me."

Nezumi closed his lips over Sion's. Where the kiss before had been a tempting seduction, this was a slow savoring. The tip of his tongue pressed just between Sion's lips, letting him taste Sion flitting across its edge as it slid over the moist warmth. The kiss caused Sion to press upward and part his lips wider, seeking to draw Nezumi deeper. He ignored Sion's invitation, continuing his teasing caresses as he gently lowered his braced arms to wend one hand behind Sion's head and the other along his ribs. With a sharp tug, he rolled them to their sides. "You can call stop at any time," Nezumi murmured as he pulled back from Sion enough to focus on his face properly.

Sion's eyes glowed red in the candle light and Nezumi sucked in a shaky breath. "Shut up, Nezumi," Sion told him, the fierceness of his words mingling intoxicatingly with the lust darkened tones of his voice. Enforcing his words, Sion dipped his head and ran his mouth over the pulse point of Nezumi's neck, teeth and lips traveling downward until he reached the curve of Nezumi's neck into his shoulder, and pressed his teeth into the sensitive flesh with enough force to leave crescent shaped marks.

Nezumi gasped, his fingers flexing against Sion's ribs and scalp. The twitch of his finger tips on Sion's ribs left Sion squirming against his hold. "Tickles," Sion muttered, the word spoken with the blush of embarrassment.

Grinning, Nezumi slid the pads of his fingers over the curve of Sion's ribs, chuckling darkly when he gave an involuntary wiggle and irritated huff. His smile becoming softer with tenderness normally hidden, Nezumi raised his hand to stroke the side of Sion's face. "You frighten me with your surety, but Sion…" he stopped; the words that normally flowed in the cadence of authors long dead had fled from him, and he was left with not even a tired cliché to clothe his emotions. Lowering his hand back to Sion's side, he laid his mouth on Sion's, accepting the invitation he had earlier ignored.

Their hands chastely placed at each other's sides and fingers weaved into hair, they kissed; the exhalation of one the inhalation of the other. They danced within the kiss, the sounds of longing escaping from between them like footfalls on a floor, revealing the increasing tempo.

Sion was the one who took the dance from a kiss that burned with heat and cold and changed it into a symphony of movement. His hand moved from its place on Nezumi's side until it rested over the edge of Nezumi's hip. He paused briefly; thumb stroking over the sensitive curve of Nezumi's hip, before continuing to trace a heated trail into the small of his back. He caressed the skin there with unhurried movements like entwined circles, linked tracings which extended from one side to the other and were interspersed with smaller motions which were hardly more than the feel of Sion's pulse beating on Nezumi's skin. Each broad stroke of Sion's hand drew tantalizingly lower until he caressed the arcs of muscle exposed to the air when he pushed away the concealing cloth of Nezumi's pants.

Nezumi groaned around Sion's lips, flexing his hips back into Sion's hand; the space he created between them made their meeting all the more intense. He felt the heady call of delirium in the raising winter chill of his desire and he realized he wished to envelop Sion's heat in his cold, to shroud Sion in ice, to protect Sion's warmth in the shelter of his snow and ice. With a growl, Nezumi threw his head back, driving his hips over Sion's and brushing their erections across one another. The contact sent a shudder up his spine, and in the next instant, he rolled to pin Sion beneath himself.

Licking his lips, Nezumi raised himself until he supported his weight on toes and fingers, his body stretched above Sion, who made a small sound that could have been either protest at their separation, or admiration as Nezumi pushed himself upward with a feline grace, eyes heavily lidded with hunger and confidence. Holding Sion's gaze, Nezumi ran his hands through his hair, locking his fingers behind his head and shifting his body with a liquid elegance that pooled his pants at his feet and, with a flick of his foot, sent them fluttering across the room.

Sion starred at Nezumi with unadulterated lust, silently wondering how he could appear so in control and dominating while standing in a position that should have been its opposite. "Nezumi," he breathed raggedly, his eyes locked not onto Nezumi's smirking expression or his suggestive pose, but the undeniable proof of his arousal. The flickering candle light defined his muscles and erection that angled upward. There should have been a hint of comedy in this, but instead of a giggle, Sion moaned in a manner that set his face aflame and tightened the muscles in his abdomen almost painfully.

"Strip," Nezumi ordered, his voice harsh in comparison to Sion's softer whispers. Not caring that he lacked Nezumi's earlier grace, Sion wriggled his way out of his pants, sitting up long enough to shove them away and grip Nezumi's wrist to pull him down once more.

Nezumi followed the pull on his wrist, lowering himself and giving a shuddering breath of relief as he felt nothing separating their skin. He ran his hands over Sion's arms, wrapping one set of fingers through Sion's and placing their meshed hands above Sion's head. Tilting himself to the side, Nezumi left half of Sion's body exposed to the explorations of his free hand. Letting his hand travel of its own will, Nezumi claimed Sion's mouth, the kiss exposing the fierce longing of one who had been denying himself for years. Sion was panting when Nezumi released his mouth and Nezumi smirked at the heated flush coloring Sion's normally creamy complexion. Not willing to give him a chance to reciprocate, Nezumi lowered his mouth not to Sion's parted lips, but the winding scar about his neck.

Sion's eyes flew wide at the touch of Nezumi's mouth on the scar. He had long since overcome his self-consciousness regarding it, but only Nezumi had ever touched the discolored flesh without hesitation, and never had he felt a sensation like the one elicited by Nezumi's cool breath and the pull his lips as his tongue swirled over the scar. A distant part of Sion's mind hid in embarrassment at the sounds he made as Nezumi worked his way lower on his body, following the scar's curving path. When Nezumi ran the pad of his thumb over Sion's nipple, Sion arched his back, his hand squeezing Nezumi's, and an inarticulate mewl of pleasure escaped his throat.

The sensations Nezumi sent thrumming along Sion's nerves verged on painful in their intensity, and Sion found himself twisting under Nezumi, desperate for a release from the electric lines of cold that flared wherever Nezumi touched. Across Sion's chest and lower still, Nezumi traveled, his hand capturing both of Sion's when Sion, in his contortions, pushed half-heartedly against his shoulder while stuttering out syllables that bore no relation to any word in any language.

Nezumi felt a vibration of pleasure surge from low in his belly and along his vocal cords the sound produced caught somewhere between a groan and a possessive growl. Sion's mewlings of undisguised pleasure at his touch encouraged him to draw things out. He savored the cries and gasps Sion made as he lingered over the line of scar that curved across narrow hips. His teeth, tongue, and lips dotted the area with marks that would be mistaken for nothing but what they were, undeniable proof that he had marked Sion in the throes of lust.

Nezumi followed the line of scar tissue down Sion's leg, raising it up to continue his tracing, spreading Sion wider, and allowing his hair to drag tantalizingly across Sion's groin as he crept lower. It was when he reached Sion's inner thigh that he heard what he had been waiting for. At the scrape of Nezumi's teeth across over-sensitized skin, Sion twisted his hands free of Nezumi's loose grasp and gripped Nezumi's shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle with bruising force, "Please!" Sion managed to beg in voice that would not be contained by the walls of the room.

A predatory grin of satisfaction pulled at Nezumi's face, and he he moved with a blinding speed to enshroud Sion's cock in his mouth, taking in the full length of him and pulling away with excruciating slowness. His tongue laved its circumference as he went, leaving behind slick skin to catch the candles' light, and worked its way over and around the head. With one hand, he encircled Sion to draw back his foreskin, exposing what was normally shielded, to his ministrations. No longer able to see Sion's expression through the fall of his hair and the angle of his head Nezumi closed his eyes focusing his senses on the warmth he had taken into his mouth, his body. Though he could feel the contours of veins below the supple surface of the skin there was an illusion of fragile smoothness. He couldn't resist allowing the edge of his teeth to brush lightly over the ridges as he drew his mouth from the base to the tips of Sion's cock, pressing over the end with sure strokes.

Sion's head jerked backward, the feel of Nezumi's tongue circling his cock strangling his voice. His body briefly became rigid as his mind struggled to process the conflagration of heat Nezumi was sending through his nerve endings and then the burning reached his lungs and Sion didn't care that his cries drowned out the night sounds.

Humming deep in his throat, Nezumi watched Sion's eyes fall closed and his mouth open, his voice filling the night with eroticism. He could taste the bitter drops of Sion's desire on his tongue as he ran it over the rounded end of the Sion's cock and his testicles tightened in response. The breeze that had stolen in through the open door chilled his damp skin and contrasted with the vibrant flashes of pain from Sion's nails dragging over his back, the two sensations becoming potent pleasure.

Groping blindly, he fumbled along the edge of the futon, looking for the bottle the innkeeper's wife had slipped under its side with a knowing wink at Nezumi. Giving a final pleased hum as he drew his mouth over Sion's erection, Nezumi sat back on his heels, holding the small bottle out to Sion. Seconds ticked away before Sion was able to focus enough on what Nezumi was holding to comprehend what he was being offered.

Nezumi had realized with the first kiss of the evening that Sion was not the same inexperienced boy of four years ago, but there had remained an uncertain shyness in Sion's actions, and so he had very much expected to see Sion's face blushing beneath him. What he found instead was heated desire and confidence. Sion plucked the bottle from Nezumi's hand and removed the lid with a single twist of his fingers. Nezumi's breath came in quickening pants as he was held enthralled by Sion's gaze and didn't notice until Sion had drawn two of his fingers into his mouth that Sion had even taken his hand. Simulating Nezumi's actions Sion sucked and teased Nezumi's fingers with his tongue, grinning in delight when Nezumi let out a moan and fell forward, only just managing to catch himself with his other hand.

Keeping Nezumi's fingers captive with his lips, Sion poured a small amount of the oil into his hand. The thick liquid held a momentary cold before absorbing the heat of his body; a faint floral scent was released as it warmed and he found when Nezumi leaned down to kiss his neck that the scent mingled pleasantly with Nezumi's own. Sion set the bottle aside for the moment and took Nezumi's fingers from his mouth to slick them with the oil, his heat.

Holding himself above Sion, Nezumi reached between them spreading the oil between the cheeks of Sion's ass and over his entrance, giving soft prods on the opening that would never do more than hint at the possibility of penetration. The muscles of Nezumi's arm began to tremble from the strain of holding him propped over Sion, but it held little importance to him as he teased Sion with his touch. He could feel the flex of Sion's muscles around his fingers, their contraction like a prelude to what he would experience when he finally breached Sion. With an impatient growl, Sion pressed his hips against Nezumi's hand, demanding cessation of his taunting. A sly grin crossed Nezumi's features and he angled his head so he could tease one of Sion's nipples as he continued to work the oil into the creases of Sion's ass. Sion, however, had had enough and held himself still until he felt Nezumi's finger drawing near and he tightened the muscles of his ass trapping Nezumi's hand while he pushed himself and Nezumi's hand against Nezumi's thigh. He gave a velvet clad sigh of pleasure as Nezumi finally eased his finger into him.

Taking the bottle from where he had left it, Sion spilled more the fragrant oil into his hand and began working it over Nezumi's cock, his own hips pressing against Nezumi's finger in hungry time to the movements of his hand. He savored the slide of Nezumi's cock across the palm of his hand the oil coated skin rapidly cooling when exposed to the night air only to be heated again by the friction of his hand.

Feeling his climax approaching at a pace beyond his control Nezumi pushed a second finger into Sion. Kissing away the grimace that Sion made at the addition, Nezumi gently curled his fingertips feeling for Sion's prostate. Sion stilled briefly when Nezumi's fingers grazed the rounded edge of the gland and then, taking the initiative, Sion rolled hips working the shallow penetration of Nezumi's fingers over the spot repeatedly, while his hand on Nezumi's cock worked in spasmodic time to each stimulation.

Removing his hand from between them Nezumi pulled back from Sion's lips so he could hold his gaze as he angled Sion's legs over his arms. "Yes," Sion whispered encouragingly, stroking the side of Nezumi's face with the hand that remained free of oil. With measured care, Nezumi positioned himself against Sion and eased forward until he was past the ring of muscle that guarded Sion's entrance. There was none of the controlled elegance Nezumi usually maintained in his expression as he felt Sion's heat enfold him. Gasping at the resistance of muscles that tightened and flexed in response to his intrusion, Nezumi clung to an unmoving stillness to prevent his climax from spilling over them before either was ready.

Sion's expression appeared uncomfortable once more, but quickly shifted to puzzlement when Nezumi didn't move and from there a warmth of feeling washed across his features as he realized Nezumi was trying desperately to avoid hurting him needlessly. Giving an experimental shift of his hips Sion gave a cry of pleasure and repeated the movement.

His unspoken concern banished with sound of Sion's voice, Nezumi gave a slow shallow thrust, searching for the angle that would create the greatest stimulation for Sion, determined that he would bring Sion to climax with him.

Sion refused to be a passive participant and continued to roll his hips guiding Nezumi's movements so that each one ignited nerves up his spine with entwined charges of hot and cold. "Sion," Nezumi growled as he wrapped a hand about Sion's cock timing the pull of his fingers to coincide with that of their hips and smearing the droplets of precum that welled over the tip of Sion's erection with the pad of his thumb.

Nezumi could feel the scars on his back pull which each thrust into Sion. The skin deformed by the scars sent thin spikes of pain along the tissue, but he relished the sensation, the pain acting as a counterpoint to the pleasure he felt. Sion's cries had diminished to incomprehensible sounds and breaths and Nezumi arched his back so he could pull the flesh of Sion's neck between his teeth while maintaining the shallow movements of his cock. The push of Sion's body against his intrusion acted like the wind on the ocean's surface, creating waves of pleasure that merged together, gaining strength as they neared the shore, and Nezumi quickly released his hold on Sion's neck when he caught a hint of copper on his tongue.

The rhythm of their thrusts had gained an edge of desperation as they neared their climax, the waves of pleasure arcing over the beach before shattering against the sands. The hot spill of Sion's cum over his hand sent Nezumi careening over the precipice; his eyes lost focus and his throat opened to allow his voice to blend with Sion's. His final thrusts were deep and erratic and Nezumi felt not that his senses were exploding, but that they had collapsed inward to encompass only the feeling of Sion's heat. His ribs heaving from the frenetic pace he had set, Nezumi slowed, his head falling forward until his forehead rested on Sion's shoulder as the final shudders of his orgasm rattled his body and he reluctantly separated himself.

Sweat dampening his hair and face, Nezumi lowered himself onto Sion, kissing him with soft teasing brushes of his tongue as the flood of endorphins that had overwhelmed them quieted. They rolled to their sides in a tangle of limbs, neither caring much about the mess of semen, oil, and sweat they had made. It was not long before the kisses changed from the contented touches of sated desires to sleepy caresses and Nezumi had just enough wits left abut him to pull the thick quilt that had remained folded next to the futon over them. Sion made a sound similar to the contended purr of cat as he snuggled closer and, as fatigue tugged the final remnants of Sion's awareness away, he felt Nezumi lips soundlessly shape words over his own, words he doubted he would ever hear spoken, but made him to briefly tighten his hold on Nezumi before sinking into sleep just the same.

Nezumi felt Sion's arm squeeze him briefly as he spoke his muted words and continued to repeat them after Sion's breath had evened out in sleep, lips shaping the words without a breath of sound until sleep's gentle call sent him after Sion. One final word drew its form on his lips and with the first breath of sleep, it was given voice heard by no one, but given life by its naming nonetheless.

Authors Notes:

This took me forever to write. I kept setting it aside and ignoring it because it is hard to write sex. I am awed by those who can write it with such skill *cough* 108 group *cough*! I doubt I ever would have finished it if not for Uakari's encouragement as well as the other people in our group thanks guys. I have officially written sex now it should be easier to do it again… right… right? Right,guys? Crap. Well there will be more smut, but it'll be a minute.

Thank you and please review!