Piglet and Pooh

by Angela

2-27-09

Sometimes, out of the blue and for no reason, Eiji was swamped with doubt, afraid that every dizzying moment he'd lived since meeting Ash was nothing but a fantasy. Whenever that happened, he would reach out and touch him: his shoulder blade, his arm, the thin tapering of his wrist. Just a brush against warm skin to prove that he was solid and real.

"What?" Ash would bark, scrutinizing his face.

Eiji always blushed. "Nothing." And he would pull away, embarrassed and yet comforted.

Ash's answer was always the same. "Homo," he'd mutter, shaking his head. Still, his eyes smiled.