He felt the mage before he heard him, thin fingers tracing patterns only he could see on the ninja's bare back while the dark-haired man stirred from a deep slumber. He tensed at the icy digits against his dark, lukewarm skin and opened his eyes, rolling over quickly to spot the blond crouching down on the floor next to the bed, finger still in midair.

"Oh," Fai said, eye closing as he smiled at the dark-haired man. "You're awake."

Kurogane frowned, eyebrows knitting in annoyance. That infuriating smile was really all that was left on the list of things the mage considered to be okay to do anymore--the flirting had ceased, the nicknames were gone, not even a glance was exchanged between the two unless it were absolutely necessary. Even then, the smile was just a formality, a way of saying "I'm all right, but don't call me on it"--another manner of running away.

Kurogane let out a frustrated sigh, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. He didn't glance over when he heard the mage get to his feet, but fought back a shout of alarm as Fai climbed onto the mattress and stood over the ninja on all fours. The dark-haired man shot almost straight up and opened his mouth to speak, but was pushed back by the wizard with a lanky finger over his lips and a quiet "Shhh". Kurogane fell back onto his elbows, and a single blue eye kept him where he was.

"The children are asleep," Fai breathed, the finger tracing the lips it had perched itself on and sliding down a dark cheek, hand tucking itself behind Kurogane's ear. Dry lips made their way along the side of his neck, and feverishly warm breath puffed against exposed, chilled skin as he continued. "You wouldn't want to wake them and have them find us, would you?"

The prickling of his chapped lips against the naked nape of his neck, along with the actions implied by the blond's statement, sent a chill down Kurogane's spine that made his hair stand on edge.

Fai was never what one could call 'stable' when he was feeding, but this was by far the most bizarre of encouters in the weeks that had passed. The ninja had realized long before any of this happened that he felt differently for the mage than he did for the kids, or Tomoyo, or just about anyone else; however, given how he'd been treated since the deal with the Space-Time Witch, he had came to terms with the fact that whatever it was that he felt was most likely one-sided. Of course, the fact that he felt anything notable at all for Fai was cause for alarm, in his mind.

The nipping of teeth against his neck pulled him out of his thoughts--he was surprised when they didn't draw blood.

"Dammit," Kurogane hissed, tilting his head back as the hand on his neck pressed his chin up. "If you're hungry, hurry up and feed."

"Who said anything about being hungry?"

Arms shot out and shoved Fai back onto his heels as the ninja shot up into a sitting position, eyes narrowing angrily as he stared the mage down. The mage's lips were upturned what could be considered a smile, but his eyes were clouded, lids drooped from exhaustion.

"What's the matter?" Fai hummed, bringing himself back up on his knees and moving forward, running his nose along the ninja's cheek. "We're both adults--we can do these sorts of things and still have them mean nothing at all, isn't that right?"

"You're out of your mind, wizard," Kurogane breathed into his ear, hands balling around the sheets on his bed as he was attacked with a wave of uneasiness when he felt a wet tongue ghost along his cheek as the mage licked his lips. The ninja was trembling, and it surprised him--it wasn't as though this was the first time he'd ever done things like this, ignoring the fact that all previous experiences had been with the opposite sex.

Fai was different, and it wasn't something the ninja had realized until after what they had was suddenly taken away. It was a feeling born after all those nights that they'd shared a room (or a bed, when times had been more desperate), something fueled by each casual brush-up and annoying nickname. It was present in his overwhelming familiarity with the mage's habits, his quiet breathing as he slept, the way his hair was tousled and how his skin smelled when he first woke up. How he'd blink sleepily and glance over at the ninja and murmur a quiet "Good morning."

"Good Morning, Kurogane."

They were words he'd come to hate.

Kurogane shuddered as he felt the hot tongue trace across light scars in his shoulder, as though there were still blood on them. His shaking fists remained at his sides, a result of his incredible willpower. The ninja was overwhelmed with the need to touch, to prove to himself that this moment was somehow real, but kept himself from doing so for fear that it was just a dream or that Fai might push him away, like he did when this whole mess started.

The freezing hands were snaking their way up his chest now, and lips had removed themselves from his skin. The blond pulled back, meeting Kurogane's gaze and looking at him curiously.

"What's the matter, Kurogane?" He murmured, brushing his nose against the ninja's, blue eye meeting his with a chilling look; Kurogane never hated his name more than he did now. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

...Was he apologizing?

His voice was soft, pleading, almost as if he wanted Kurogane to accept it. The ninja didn't expect to be forgiven for keeping the blond alive--that would mean he'd have won whatever bullshit game Fai was playing with 'Ashura'. But to do something like this, to allow Kurogane to have him only one time... then surely something done in the heat of a moment could help them pretend that one was not important to the other.

He understood now. The ninja hated it, but he couldn't feign ignorance to Fai's reasoning. A dark, rough hand untangled itself from the covers and found its way to a pale cheek, running callused fingers through fine blond hair.

"Don't fool yourself into thinking this means anything," he whispered, and the blond tried to hide a sigh of relief, smiling weakly as he brought needy lips to meet Kurogane's.

Even if another word was never exchanged between the two, or if they arrived in Japan the very next day, they would still have the memory of thin fingers tracing old scars; the slick feel of white, sweat-covered skin; the sound of their labored breathing as they lay together in damp, stained sheets. It was all supposed to be fake, presented as a caricature of intimacy--but beneath the powerful caresses and desperate kisses, both of them knew there lied a deep, sincere desire that neither were allowed to admit having.