Cold Roses

"For death is no more than a turning of us over of time to eternity."

Chapter Two
We were on the plane back to Cross Academy — a long, boring trip. Long ago, just after take off, Katsura had fallen asleep in one of the back rooms of the private jet owned by Takuma's newly opened — but already very successful — acting agency. This was the first year that we were letting Katsura tag along with us; Takuma had told me he was ready, and he was confident that with Kaname locked up, there was no threat to Katsura we couldn't handle. It was great to hear him phrase it that way, as apposed to, "There's no threat to him at all." The knowledge that there would always be threats to him in this world... no matter what we did. Takuma had a good way of saying things right. I heard said blonde sigh deeply next to me, and I leaned my head on his shoulder, allowing him to rub my hair gently.

"Are we there yet?" I mumbled, closing my eyes.

"You know we aren't. We still have another hour and a half," Takuma whispered to me, stilling his hand and ceasing his ministrations. "Don't you fall asleep on me now, too."

I smiled, taking his spare hand in one of my own and squeezing. "I'm not tired... just bored."

"Oh."

There was another long silence, and I found myself wandering back seven years to a particular travel on a bumpy northern road by shuttle bus. Now, I opened my eyes, grinning at Takuma with a wild look in my eyes. He raised one slender eyebrow in question. "Takuma, you still haven't paid me back."

He was slow in response. "For what?"

"Remember seven years ago; those pants of mine that you puked on?"

It took a moment, but Takuma's face lit up like a stoplight and he recoiled. "Right... Sorry!"

"Don't say sorry; just kiss me, idiot."

It took Takuma a half second to heed this request. He wasn't slow all the time. Especially when it came to sexual advances. Over the years, Takuma had learned quickly from me, and from obvious other sources. I often caught him using tricks that I had glanced over in magazines that featured me as the cover model, which Takuma always ordered. Of course, he wasn't reading the men's section on how to please a woman — though some of those tips were incorporated after being severely tweaked to fit our situation.

Takuma reached over to stroke my face, letting his hand slip lower and lower; down along my chest to the zipper at the neck of my sweater, which lead down my chest before curving off to continue down my side. It was difficult enough to get it on — it was easier when one had help — but all the fun was in taking it off. Of course, this was Takuma's favourite top of mine because of it's easy access, and he dragged his fingers along my skin as the zipper descended, exposing my chest to the moderated temperature of the jet's atmosphere, which was quickly heating between my lover and I. I heaved in a breath, letting my head fall back away from Takuma's soft lips as the sweater was parted and skilled fingers found one already taught nipple, ghosting over it gently, then pinching and rolling in response to a melodic moan released from between my slightly parted lips.

Feeling prided by my easily elicted reations, Takuma began to trail his lips and tongue down my jaw and neck, suckling lightly on the Bite Area — the junction between shoulder and neck. I bit my lip, holding back a moan, remembering my son in the back room. It was too soon for him to be awoken by the sounds of his adoptive fathers making love in the next room — he was still far too young to have any idea what was going on. So, as long as we were quiet, it would do no harm.

Takuma scraped fangs lengthened by sheer lust against my sensitive skin, causing me to groan low in my throat. Moving to stand in front of me, he closed his eyes, thick eyelashes brushing my neck and I shuddered, helping him to remove the sky-hued button-down top, pushing it frantically off his shoulders; there was no way around it — we both needed to be together, now. He began to unbutton my pants, simultaneously pulling down the short zipper and releasing me from their painful grasp, while effectively relieving me of my boxers as well; I sighed, kissing my lover's cheek in gratitude. He loosened his own pants, slipping the button from its catch and letting the zipper's stainless steel teeth fall apart from eachother. Takuma groaned, obviously relieved exponetially just by unfastening his pants. Could he be that hard already?

Once both our clothing laid in a pile to our left, Takuma left my neck, going immediately for the hardened prize between my legs, and I gasped, throwing my head back as he engulfed the whole member. Words were unable to describe the pleasure as he pulled back up, avoiding his fangs, to suck just on the head, and hard. I couldn't stop myself from moaning, grabbing the arm rests of the leather chair I sat in so that I could anchor myself down. It was taking everything in my fragile will not to push Takuma off and dominate him right now. He moved back down, lavishing heated attention with a skilled tongue, sucking hard all the while. I was beginning to see stars already, and I wasn't even getting close to my climax yet. My Takuma was amazing, that much was for sure; and the best part was knowing that I had taught most of this to him myself. He began to bob his head in a rythmic fashion, increasing the speed of the heated attentions and the pressure of his sucking. It had to be impossible for his lips to not be numbing by now. Fortunately, I felt myself getting close and urged Takuma to halt his actions. Obediently — albeit, reluctantly — Takuma released the soaked and throbbing flesh from pinkening lips. Both of us were breathing hard, our chests rising and falling in time as I pushed myself from the chair to the floor where Takuma knelt, and then slowly reclined as I began to fist his already painfully hardened erection.

I ran my fingers along the slit, coating them thickly in Takuma's pre-cum as the blonde moaned softly. He reached out for me, and I obliged him, laying atop him with my weight supported on my left arm. My right disappeared between his thighs, just south of the abandoned length. As Takuma pulled me down for a slow, lusty kiss, I circled his entrance, slipping my middle finger in to the hilt, curling it just slightly. Enough to hit the spot. I had memorized the location of Takuma's prostate, and one would have expected it, given the length of our relationship. Turning his head from me, Takuma let out a howl that would rival that of a wolf, and I had to shut him up quickly. As soon as he turned his head back to me, delerious with pleasure, I wrapped my fingers in his golden hair, keeping him in place as I delved my tongue deep into his mouth. Momentarily forgetting the attention I was paying to his rear, he kissed back, fighting my tongue for dominence within his mouth. I let my finger enter and exit his body, soon adding another finger, and eventually another as I prepared him, stretching and prodding as we worked up to the inevitable.

My lover writhed beneath me, and I pulled away from our kiss, staring into his eyes, hazy with ecstasy as I removed my hand from between his legs. He whimpered, pressing his lower regions against my own, and I shifted my weight onto the previously busied arm. Positioning myself, I heard him whisper my name, closing his eyes to beg me softly.

"Please, Senri..."

I smiled, moving in to sheath myself completely within Takuma's restricting warmth. I hissed at the feeling of his muscles flexing around me, and pulled back to the head. I pressed back in, creating a rythem out of this, friction building between our heated bodies as I picked up the pace. It seemed like time stopped around us while our bodies were joined in such a beautiful moment, caught between nothing and everything, black and white, time and eternity. Life and death. We moved together in sync, having memorized eachother long ago. Takuma's legs wrapped around my waist and locked, fisting my hair roughly as we locked lips to reduce the noise level, while one tight fist closed around my lover's member, pumping desperately. Soon, only minutes after the pilot announced that we would be landing in fifteen minutes, I drove home releasing both Takuma and myself near simulaneously — me first, and then Takuma only seconds behind as my hot seed filled his body, making us both cry out in passionate ecstasy.

However, the cries of our yearly tradition were cut short.

"Daddy? Takuma? You okay?"

Katsura had opened the door and was peering out curiously with tired eyes. Luckily, we were hidden behind the row of leather chairs that faced away from Katsura's room.

I struggled to catch my breath, fetching the pile of clothes and sorting them quickly. "Uhmm... We're fine, Katsura. Everything is perfect. Just fine. We're fine."

"Are you sure? You don't sound fine." Intelligent little— "Do you need help? What're you doing on teh floor?"

"It's comfortable," Takuma piped up, pulling his boxers on as quickly as possible in his current position as I did the same. Neither of us had time to clean up, so we were unbearably uncomfortable throwing the rest of our clothes on, contrary to what Takuma had told our child. "Quite comfortable."

"Really? Can I sit with you?" He perked up slightly, opening the door a little wider.

"Just a moment, Katsura. Just hang on." Takuma helped me zip my sweater as I said this, and we both stood, covered in sweat with our hair a mess. Especially Takuma's. It made Katsura laugh, and we both blushed when he made his comment, knowing full well that he had no idea what was going on.

"Takuma, your hair's staticky." He slurred the last two words together, resting a finger on his bottom lip cutely, one arm wrapped around his stuffed bunny, Yoru-sama. He came to my side and gripped onto my shirt, watching Takuma in a frenzy, flattening his hair. At least this gave him the perfect reason to run out of the room and clean up.

After Takuma had left, I turned my eyes down onto bright crimson ones, my hand tangling in dark brown locks. Gods, he looked so much like his parents... Some days, it actually hurt. "Daddy?" he asked with concern, and wrapped both arms around my waist. I hugged him back, shutting my eyes to reality. This was my child, out of Yuuki and by Kaname though he may be.

"What were you and Takuma screaming about just now? Were you fighting?"

I smiled ruefully, a slight blush heating my cheeks. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Do you fight alot?"

I took a minute to think. "I suppose so."

"Is it because of me?"

My heart hit the floor. He thought that by fighting... I meant...

"Are you and Takuma gonna break up 'cuz of me?" Katsura was beginning to tear up, his beautiful young face contorted in pain.

"Katsura... no... That's not what I meant..." I paused, trying to explain this to him. There was one simple answer. "Takuma and I love eachother; we always will, and I promise that neither of us will ever go away, alright? We were just wrestling... Like you and Miyabi do all the time."

"Really?" He sniffled heavily, pulling back to look at me. Had I really scared him that badly? "So, you're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be?"

The rueful look that came across Katsura's face made me sorry I asked. I didn't even want to know, and I told him so. He smiled and nodded, more than happy to comply. I knew I'd find out eventually. With Katsura, I always did.

Takuma returned just as the pilot put out the warning that we were about to land, and the three of us buckled into our seats, awaiting the moment the wheels touched the paved runway. Katsura bounced excitedly, asking the same questions he had when we left about Cross Academy, about our friends, about Humans — something he had never seen before. We had decided to introduce him to what would usually be considered Vampire Food at Cross Academy, where he wouldn't be allowed to take blood from the Humans. He was still slowly being weaned off energy and onto blood, but he had never had anything but the blood of Takuma, Kuronue, or myself; seeing as Miyabi was almost never around. She was either busy with her job, or searching for leads on her father's whereabouts. So far, she had learned that a brief job with an overseas trading company had brought him far south of the Shiki Manor, somewhere down in the tropics. But that was about it.

The plane hit ground. When we passed the airport, I could see a group of familiar faces, aged so much since I had first met them so long ago, and a bit of a cheer ran through them. There was a banner held across the window, so large that it completely dwarfed the head of perfectly coiffed gold hair that fixed it in place on one end, and strawberry blonde pigtails on the other. It read, in large pink letters, 'Welcome home, Shiki and Ichijou! Show Us Your Child!' Typical behaviour of Aidou Hanabusa. But very much welcomed with a warm, fond smile.