Soubi sat alone in the studio, the lights were off and he knew no one else was there. No-one was ever there. That was why he ran there to hide. When it all got too much, when Sensei's lessons left him too tired to serve his master and Seimei beat him in disgust and sent him away.
He was hunched over a canvas, moonlight coming in through the huge windows the only light in the room. The canvas a blank expanse before him, he dreamed. Butterflies flew through the room, butterflies everywhere. The tears streamed down his cheeks at their beauty, reaching out to brush a finger along the wing of something he could never be.
Kio stopped in the doorway and stared. Soubi was there, sitting hunched over a canvas, staring into mid-air, stroking something that didn't exist with tears streaming down his cheeks. He looked so broken.
He had thoughts about Soubi that he would never disclose to anyone. Sure, he flirted, but no-one took him seriously. He really did care about Soubi; the man was like an angel, his perfect artist's hands dancing across the canvas conjuring intense images of astounding beauty. He knew Soubi got abused, had to be the case - There was no other reason for the erratic attendance, the bandages, the secrecy.
He looked even more beautiful like this in the moonlight, almost as if he had wings, broken wings. Kio advanced silently across the room to place a hand on his friend's shoulder. Soubi's head jerked up and his tear-stained, shining eyes stared up into Kio's. Kio could not help himself, he bent down and kissed those soft, tempting, slightly parted lips. Soubi gasped but did not pull away, he merely allowed himself to enjoy the lack of demands, the lack of associated pain he had expected.
The kiss was sweet and tender, not short but definitely not long. When they broke apart Kio flushed crimson and made to move away, but Soubi clung to him.
"Please...Kio..."
He knew this was wrong, knew he would get punished for it, but he needed to feel love, needed this moment of peace and painlessness.
Kio nodded and wrapped his arms tightly around the blonde, pressing his head against his chest where Soubi listened to his heartbeat, the steady rhythm slowly calming him.
"What happened Souchan?" Kio whispered, fingers playing amongst the tresses turned silver by the moonlight. Soubi shook his head, he was bound to silence. He could not explain. Even had he been able to, he would not have. Kio did not deserve to be tainted by the darkness of that world; His world. Suddenly a desire to belong to this gentle, caring man reared up inside him and he clung tighter, a small whimper escaping him. Kio hushed him tenderly, the motion of his fingers changing to a calming stroke on Soubi's head.
He closed his eyes, remembering the night's events. He had been late to meet Seimei, the teenager had been very annoyed by that, had slapped him around the face – as was his right. He had been shouting, Soubi had cowered before his master's wrath, wishing he was not so weak, so worthless. Then it had happened.
"You are MINE! You understand? MINE!" the boy had been shaking him violently, Soubi was nodding, panicked, terrified. Then out of nowhere, he had raised a knife.
"I need to claim you, to name you so that you can't run off again..." Seimei had hissed. He had ripped Soubi's shirt off and pinned him against the bed. Soubi had lain still, waiting, trying to calm his fluttering heart and heaving chest.
The boy had advanced on him, the knife raised. Suddenly the cold feel of steel was on his skin. He felt the first cut, precise, controlled, full of cold rage and steel anger. His skin started to weep crimson tears as clear drops fell from his eyes. The cuts were deep, leaving scars.
"BELOVED"
He was claimed now, could never escape. Not that he wanted to. Seimei was his master. That was that. It reverberated through every fibre of his being, he was proud that Seimei had named him, even if it had been in anger. But it had hurt so much. Seimei didn't love him, he knew that, he didn't care; he didn't need to be loved by him, just to be permitted to serve him.
He knew he should belong just to Seimei, but what Kio was doing made his heart ache at the tenderness. If this was love, to have someone hold you like this, to have someone care whether you lived or died, then he wished he could feel it, just once.
But maybe, just this once was enough.