It had been a month. A month without the children; worse, a month without Mokona. A month of fighting all day, Kurogane was clearly in his element. A month of listening to men speak in a language he could not understand, though he understood the looks they gave him and the jealous glances they gave Kurogane. They all assumed he was the ninja's whore, strong enough to hold his own on the battlefield, but dumb enough to do whatever Kurogane wanted him to do without any complaints, simply there to warm the darker man's bed and body at nights. A few of the braver ones tried to see if Kurogane was willing to share, and Fai was grateful that the man cared enough to keep him from being violated, though the rest of the troops thought the defense was prompted by a fierce jealousy which only made them lust after the mage more. Thankfully, they stopped trying after Kurogane left a few of their best prominent bruises, but it never stopped them from wishing and secretly hoping Kurogane would be killed on the battlefield. Fai always took special care to watch Kurogane's back since most of the other soldiers tended to leave him on his own.
An entire month of hell. He knew because he had been marking the days with a small knife on the center pole that supported their tent, crawling out of his bedroll after Kurogane had fallen asleep. He knew because there were thirty perfect little niches in the base of the pole. He crawled over to Kurogane's bedroll and watched the sleeping ninja's face peacefully for a few moments. He tried talking to him; he did that a lot, still often in the presence of the other soldiers which only strengthened their suspicions he was a complete idiot. He still persisted in trying to talk, hoping one day comprehension would cross the ninja's stern face. After a few moments in which Fai tried to discuss the weather with Kurogane, the ninja groggily opened his eyes and stared blankly at him as Fai's voice trailed off. He growled something in the language Fai didn't understand, but with a dejected sigh, Fai slunk back to his bedroll, aware of Kurogane's heated gaze on his back the entire way.
Two months, sixty perfect marks in the wood. His measuring system wasn't perfect, but it was the only thing he had to count the days until the children and Mokona return, and he tried desperately not to think about what would happen if they never return. Kurogane tried to keep him involved at all times, but the other soldiers have learned to respect the ninja and include him in their evening activities. As Kurogane's bed warmer, which he really wasn't, but he could not tell them that without offering himself up as fair game for there pleasure, he did not exist. Some would not even look at him for fear of invoking Kurogane's jealousy, and even if they did not fear, he still had no status among them, a ghost in their presence, lower than a woman. Even if he was clinging to Kurogane's waist which he did sometimes when they were drunk and eyeing him in ways he did not appreciate, they still did not include him or offer him anything to drink.
He talked less now, only attempting to strike a conversation with Kurogane at nights, and only the occasional slip during the day.
Kurogane noticed the marks on the pole and raised an eyebrow suspiciously at Fai, unable to ask any other way if he was the cause. Fai merely smiled at him from where he was making repairs on his weapons in the corner. Kurogane simply walked away from it and went to his morning training.
Three months, and Fai had given up talking, but he refused to try to learn the native language outside a few, commonly used words because if he did that it would mean giving up hope. He needed to believe Mokona was coming back for them someday; the only way he would know was if he suddenly understood everything the people around him were saying.
He started to notice differences in Kurogane as well, because Kurogane was unwilling to leave him behind, and they were both changing as a result of the new status in their relationship. The way he sometimes caught him looking at him, heated eyes following his every move. He knew it was only a matter of time before Kurogane lost his last resolve. Fai found it perfectly reasonable in the situation they were in; almost every day they found themselves in circumstances that tended to have the side effect of leaving a man highly aroused. The tension would break a man somewhere. It was only natural to find release in someone you already knew, in this case someone who could not fight back. The men had already assumed Fai was filling that role anyway, and sometimes it got to the point where Fai began to wonder if that was his sole purpose for being in this world with Kurogane even though he had not yet been used in that way. Sometimes on drunken nights with the other soldiers, Kurogane would drape his arm heavily across his shoulders, and nobody commented on it because that was where they expected Fai to be, owned by Kurogane. Fai got the impression they wondered why Kurogane was still with them when he was one of the lucky ones who had something pretty to warm his bed. So he waited patiently until Kurogane decided he had ignored his need for long enough, sensing the day was soon.
It happened the one hundred and fifth day they were there, after a long day of actual battle, they stumbled into their tent, and Fai wasn't surprised when he found himself being pushed onto Kurogane's cot with the ninja soon following, tugging impatiently at his belt. And it was sweaty and messy and sticky and Fai didn't care as, mewling with every sweet thrust, he clutched the broad shoulders closer to him as the man moved above him. And it didn't matter if people heard them because they had probably wondered why they hadn't heard anything before.
Fai was happy in a way because this was what he had been searching for, proof that he could still connect with somebody even if it was pure carnal bliss; it certainly was not rape and Kurogane made sure to stimulate him properly as well. The connection after so many months of isolation was exquisite, and he wrapped his long limbs tighter around the ninja.
Once satisfied, Kurogane collapsed on top of him, panting harshly. They were more of a mess now than they had been earlier, but Fai didn't want to move to clean himself. He wanted to snuggle against the muscular chest as long as he was permitted, to keep that connection alive for as long as possible.
Four months and the nights at least were no longer unbearable as he had become a regular visitor to Kurogane's cot. Kurogane's bed-warmer, just like the soldiers always thought he had been. Except he was not doing it because he was dumb, and he liked to believe Kurogane was not doing it just for a warm body to fuck. There was something almost loving in the way Kurogane's rough hands caressed him, expressing more than words ever could, and Fai knew a simple fuck did not need to involve kissing. Kurogane growled things to him while they were fucking, and even though Fai knew it was near impossible for the stoic ninja, he liked to imagine he was whispering sweet nothings to him. Then there was the sweet ecstasy of release, and Kurogane's panting, gleaming body lying next to his was more than he ever could have hoped for in this lonely world.
Like every night before, once the ninja's breathing seemed to indicate he was sleeping, Fai crawled out to make his niche in the pole. Naked, he made his way across the tent, shivering as the night air made contact with his sweat-slicked skin.
As soon as he finished making his mark, a large hand captured his wrist, and he turned his neck to see Kurogane kneeling behind him, a questioning look on his face. But he had not words to express what he was going through, no way to indicate how he was feeling. With a sigh, Kurogane wrapped his arm around Fai's shoulders, pulling him close. Fai buried his face against Kurogane's chest as the man's hand tangled in his hair. The knife slipped uselessly from his fingers. He never marked the days on the pole again.
Five months. Fai knows because somebody else had taken to marking the days for him, the notches no longer small and delicate. Someone who had lately fallen into the habit of holding him unnecessarily close at nights. Five months and Fai is starting to learn bits and pieces of the language, asking Kuro-rin for lessons as he lay snuggled against his bare chest at nights.
Six months. A different world. The pole had long since deteriorated. Things were back to normal, or at least to how they were before they got separated. Which meant no more fucking because the kids were never far and they didn't want to traumatize them. It was a decision they had reached together. Still, sometimes Fai would lie awake at nights and miss Kurogane's strong arms around him, keeping him safe and wanted.