"Seimei, it is not socially acceptable to say this, but… I stink." Hiromasa held his grubby silks away from his body and wrinkled his nose at the heavy, pungent smell. "I need to wash."

"Perhaps we both do." Seimei loosened his hair from its tie at his nape and shook it out, combing his fingers through it. He snorted at the knots, working them out with savage tugs. "It's been twenty-one days since we arrived here. Maybe we should spend the next week bathing every day."

Hiromasa murmured in acknowledgement. While he longed to wash away some of the more objectionable smells from his person and clothes, he didn't look forward to the idea of bathing. The stream that lay a short distance from the hut served them well enough for a mere cat's-lick of washing and a shave, but since winter had settled upon the forest, a rime of ice traced delicate patterns along the water's edge.

"Twenty-one days?" His brow furrowed as he thought. "And the last hair-washing day was… ah, three days ago…"

Without an almanac, Hiromasa didn't know when the next bathing-day fell. Not that it mattered. Since they'd come into the forest, the days had ceased to have meaning or number. At first he'd tried to keep count, marking off each day by scraping a line on the fallen log with his razor. He'd stopped doing that when the edge blunted and he cut his face.

He gave up counting days and tried to count the number of times he and Seimei made love. After dusk, when it became too cold to sit outside, they curled together beneath the wolf-skins. Feeling Seimei warm and close to him excited Hiromasa in a way he'd never expected. Sex was inevitable and mutual; Seimei's hunger for it a revelation.

After their first night in the hut, Hiromasa allowed Seimei to face away from him. He'd hoped with time that Seimei would trust him more. When it didn't happen, Hiromasa felt bewildered and hurt. He said nothing, and – perhaps in unconscious reaction – he always rose before dawn and went outside to play his flute to the forest.

He tried not to think about it too much. Seimei had been an intensely private man before Hiromasa had stumbled into his life. But since they'd come into the forest, he'd seen Seimei open up, become almost human. Perhaps it was wrong of him to want more, but Hiromasa refused to give up hope.

Seimei chuckled. "You're still concerned about breaking taboos? Hiromasa, we have done nothing but transgress since we came here!"

Hiromasa remembered the forbidden meat they'd eaten – the game birds, the rabbits, the deer he'd managed to shoot – and thought of the spiritual pollution they'd accrued from it. They'd ignored directional taboos and broken the ground to build an earthen oven. He hadn't thought to bring a sutra and couldn't remember a single line from any religious text.

When Seimei rose every morning, he would spend some time alone amongst the trees. Hiromasa hoped he was communicating with benevolent deities who'd forgive them for all these terrible lapses.

"I'm more concerned that we'll have to bathe in shallow, icy water."

Still combing out his hair, Seimei said, "There's a hot spring nearby."

"There is?"

Seimei gave him a placid look. "Of course."

Hiromasa felt the urge to strangle his friend. All this time in the cold stream when they could have been wallowing in a hot spring! He brushed the leaves from his dirty brocade and stood. "I'm ready. Let's go."

'Nearby' turned out to be a relative term. Twenty-one days ago, Hiromasa would have baulked at the prospect of a half-day walk, but since they'd entered the forest, the daily hunting and gathering of food and wood had strengthened his body. He'd become leaner; Seimei had become sleeker.

They walked through the forest, following no particular path. Seimei carried their evening meal, a dead rabbit, by the ears; Hiromasa carried a bundle of washing wrapped inside Seimei's hunting-costume. Seimei had stopped wearing it when one of the sleeves caught on a branch and tore off. At first it had been strange to see him dressed so informally in just his layered under-robes, especially when he took to wearing them like a Chinese, but Seimei seemed comfortable.

Hiromasa hadn't imitated him, preferring to keep his court garments in order. They may be alone in the wilderness, but that was no reason to forget who he was or the rank he held.

The ground sloped down, rocks breaking through the earth. The soil thinned and the trees stood in sparse clumps. Hiromasa heard the sound of running water and caught the faint stink of sulphur in the air. They slithered down a steep bank and followed a ribble of gently steaming water to its source.

A series of small pools, rich with minerals, had formed in a bulge of the bedrock. Pine trees twisted beside them, black branches reaching towards the water. Steam obscured much of the surface, a shifting mist that revealed glimpses of dark-veined rocks.

Hiromasa chose a pool at random and dumped their clothes in it, swirling them around to separate the garments from the bundle. The water was hotter than he'd expected and he snatched his hand back with a yelp.

Seimei laughed. "The larger pool won't be so hot." He dropped the rabbit and undressed, shedding his robes and sash onto the soft carpet of pine needles littering the ground.

Hiromasa watched him, suddenly breathless. He knew every inch of Seimei's body, had touched and tasted him by firelight in the shadowed darkness of the hut, but he'd never seen him quite as naked as this. He blushed, realising he'd have to strip off his own clothes, too. What seemed exciting in the privacy of a house seemed scandalous in full daylight and the open air.

Seimei entered the pool and slid down with a sigh. He unfastened his hair and ducked his head underwater. He surfaced with a gasp, scraping his wet hair from his eyes. As if aware of Hiromasa's hesitation, he smiled over at him. "You don't need to be shy. We're alone here. And I'm curious – I'd like to see you…"

Even more embarrassed, but wanting to please Seimei, Hiromasa undressed with a rush. He caught his breath at the chill in the air, feeling his nipples tighten. He hurried into the pool, sinking boneless into its warmth. The rock had worn smooth, the bottom slippery with mineral deposits. It was deep enough to sit comfortably, the water just covering his shoulders if he leaned back against the side.

Hiromasa untied his hair and washed it, drawing his hands through the length. He worked at a few tangles, wishing he'd brought a comb, and then Seimei was beside him.

"Here. Let me." Seimei's long, elegant fingers stroked through his hair, separating the tendrils, unknotting the strands. Hiromasa let him do it, enjoying the sensation of his friend's hands on him. He closed his eyes and purred in satisfaction, not even minding the occasional tug at his scalp.

Seimei brushed the wet hair over one shoulder and kissed bare skin. "All done."

"Thank you." Hiromasa caught his wrist and pulled Seimei to face him. The heat of the water had made his skin flush; a fine sweat sheened his forehead and upper lip. Hiromasa kissed him, tasting the sweat and pine-sulphur tang of the water from his skin.

Seimei moaned, pressing against him. Their bodies slid together. Water splashed; the warm mist covered them. Hiromasa slipped his arms around Seimei's narrow waist and stroked his back. His cock stirred. Hiromasa felt too relaxed and lazy to do much more than kiss. He murmured something soft and regretful, pulled away, and settled Seimei beside him.

With drowsy interest, Hiromasa watched the steam rise and twist, ethereal against the backdrop of pine and rock. It came to him then that he was happy. The thought made him frown. He'd never considered himself unhappy at court, but often – and especially since his friendship with Seimei – he'd felt trapped by his duties. Now, after living outside of his old life, he viewed his return there with ambivalence.

He sighed and sank lower into the water, wishing there was a way to preserve this moment forever. Right now he didn't care about Winter Moon or Nose or anything else. He simply wanted to remain in this state of being happy.

Seimei looked at him. "What is it?"

"I think I'm happy."

"You only think?" Seimei arched his eyebrows. "I know I am happy."

In the pause that followed, Hiromasa felt his heart jump. "You are?"

"Yes." Seimei lowered his gaze. He did not elaborate.

Hiromasa waited a moment longer, hoping; but when Seimei remained silent, he tipped back his head and stared at the sky. "I miss court and yet I don't miss it," he said, testing his thoughts aloud. "I felt stifled there, but when I first came here I was afraid. I didn't think I'd be able to do anything useful. I didn't want to hunt for my food or work like a peasant. And now, while I know I can survive out here, I couldn't do it on my own. I would be a terrible hermit."

Seimei chuckled and turned in the water, his body pressing closer. "No one's asking you to be a hermit. I would miss you too much."

"Would you?" Hiromasa touched Seimei's wet hair, curling a tendril around his fingers. "Hermits aren't supposed to have sex. I'd miss that."

"Of course you would." Seimei tossed his head, shaking off Hiromasa's hand, and moved away. His expression, so relaxed a moment ago, now resumed the blank look he saved for court.

Confused by the coolness between them, Hiromasa sat up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Seimei shook his head. "Nothing. It's nothing." He hesitated then smiled, but the warmth of it didn't quite banish the uncertainty in his eyes. Drifting back to Hiromasa, he said, "I'm being foolish. Hush," he added when Hiromasa began to say that Seimei was never foolish, and continued, "I want to be happy again. I need…"

Hiromasa felt the change in him, recognised the dark, sleepy-eyed look of arousal and the inviting curve of his lips. He caught Seimei's shoulders and drew him near. "What do you need?"

This time, Seimei's smile was genuine, ripe and wanton. "I need…" He straddled Hiromasa's thighs and sat on his lap, facing him. He kissed him, aggressive and demanding, one hand cupping the side of Hiromasa's face. The other hand he insinuated between them, rubbing at Hiromasa's peaked nipples then sliding over his belly to grasp his cock. "I need this. Want it."

Hiromasa groaned, jerking upward as Seimei stroked him. Heat built inside him; his heart raced. It was too hot to do this in the pool, but he couldn't reject Seimei. Sweat ran to the corners of his mouth. He licked his lips, tasting salt.

Seimei kissed him again, his tongue darting. Hiromasa let him in; felt him trace across his teeth. Seimei withdrew, catching Hiromasa's lower lip in a sharp bite. It hurt. It should have been enough to dampen his lust, but it didn't. He tasted blood and kissed Seimei in angry response, gripping the back of his neck and punishing him with harder, more violent kisses until Seimei whimpered in urgent pleasure.

Hiromasa pulled away, his head spinning with a combination of heat and desire. The cut on his lip pulsed, a tiny pain aggravated by his sweat and the steam. He licked it, tasting the copper-sweetness. It clouded Seimei's taste and so he kissed him again, hard enough to leave an imprint of blood on Seimei's lips.

Seimei laughed, breathless and excited. He lifted up, positioned himself, and sank down on Hiromasa's cock.

Hiromasa gasped, startled. "Seimei!" It came out strangled, a choke of a sound. The sensations had been unbelievable before; now he thought he was dying.

Seimei tightened around him, so hot inside. He smiled, untouchable even though they were joined together. "This is what you wanted. Now give me what I want."

Heat surrounded him, overwhelmed him. Hiromasa abandoned himself to it, his mind going blank. He held Seimei to him, one hand on his back, the other at his hip, and thrust up. Seimei clung to his shoulders, his fingers digging deep enough to scratch. Sweat stung the grazes, a goad to the annihilating pleasure.

Desperate cries spilled from Seimei as he leaned backwards. His hair trailed into the water and fanned out, bubbles silvering in its length. Hiromasa kissed his throat, mouthing at the bruises encircling his neck. No other lover had allowed him to mark them like this. The sense of power and possession it gave him was immense. Whenever Seimei offered his throat or his nape, his vulnerability showed. It was the only time Hiromasa knew Seimei trusted him.

Hiromasa pulled him upright, catching a handful of wet hair to drag him close. "Oh, Seimei, what you do to me…"

Seimei smiled, his eyes half-lidded and slumberous. "What do I do?"

"You make me lose my mind."

Hiromasa wanted to carry him out of the pool, throw him to the ground and ride him until they were spent, but the heat stole his will, made him helpless. He knew he was out of control; knew Seimei had charge of this, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything but the fact he could see Seimei's face.

He watched him now, tempering his thrusts to respond to Seimei's flickering expressions. His own desire was nothing, the heat was nothing; he wanted to watch Seimei forever. Hiromasa noticed everything: the tilt of his head, his damp-spiked eyelashes, the sweat-sheened glow of his skin, the way his lips formed words he couldn't speak beyond broken syllables.

And then Seimei opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on Hiromasa, pinning him. He said "Hiromasa" just once: a demand, a plea. Hiromasa came, his heart almost stopping, pleasure breaking him apart as he drowned in heat. He thrust harder, ashamed that Seimei hadn't come first, then felt him shudder, heard him cry out.

Sweat ran from him. He would need to wash again. Hiromasa rested his head against Seimei's and took deep breaths. His whole body ached with sensation. He felt burned outside and in.

Seimei blew against his ear, a whisper of coldness. "Did you like that?"

"Seimei." Hiromasa couldn't say anything else; couldn't think of anything else. Need tore at him – no longer physical, but raw, bleeding emotion. His voice broke. "Seimei."

With a moan of satisfaction, Seimei climbed off him. He drifted a short distance away and washed his face. Missing the contact, and afraid of the need building up inside, Hiromasa cornered him.

He traced the line of Seimei's throat, down then up; touched his kiss-swollen mouth with the pad of his thumb. "I love you."

Seimei went still. His eyes widened and then he turned his head, rejecting the words. "This is why I said anything between us was dangerous."

Bewildered, still slow from the intimacy they'd shared, Hiromasa tried to laugh. "It's the duty of a nobleman to express his emotions openly to his lover…"

"A duty?"

Hiromasa heard the bitterness in Seimei's voice. Concern sharpened inside him as he worried that Seimei misunderstood him. "And a pleasure."

Seimei pushed him away and stumbled to the other side of the spring. He tied his wet hair into a topknot with sharp, angry movements and climbed from the pool. Water streamed from his flanks; semen trickled down his inner thighs.

This wasn't how Hiromasa had imagined it. Everything was going wrong. Still striving for normality between them, he called out: "You always tease me for falling in love! Why can't you tease me now?"

Seimei wrapped himself in a white under-robe, the silk blotting the water until the robe was almost sheer. "Because now I don't find it amusing."

There was an edge to Seimei's voice that Hiromasa didn't like. His temper rose. He'd suffered too many of Seimei's refusals; resented his inability to share the desire and intimacy between them. He'd been shut out too many times.

Hiromasa hauled himself from the water. He forced back his anger, still afraid of offending his friend. The thought stopped him, made him laugh, the sound short and bitter. His friend. He wanted Seimei as his lover, but all this time he'd continued thinking of him as a friend.

"There is an etiquette to rejecting a suitor, you know." He grabbed one of his under-robes and dried himself briskly, then shrugged into the remaining layers before he could lose the warmth from the pool. "I know you don't subscribe to all that court nonsense but I hoped you'd at least make some allowances for me…"

Seimei made a noise, half gasp, half sob. He turned away before Hiromasa could see his expression, but every line in his body spoke of defeat.

Hiromasa strode over to him, catching the trailing end of a damp sleeve. "Seimei! What is it? What have I done?"

When Seimei faced him, he looked angry, showing more emotion than Hiromasa had seen from him in months, maybe even years. This was what he'd been waiting for – and yet now Hiromasa felt guilty.

Seimei lifted his chin. His expression flattened, but his eyes still showed his true feelings. "You treat me as if I were a dalliance. No – worse than that. At least you know how to behave with your women. You don't creep away from them before they wake."

Hiromasa stared. He hadn't realised Seimei cared so much about social conventions. "I don't mean anything by that. I thought…"

"Every time! Every time, Hiromasa." Seimei's voice cracked with the intensity of his speech. He looked away. "You asked me what I wanted from you. I said I was afraid of what I wanted. I lied."

"Then tell me what you want."

Seimei faced him again. "I don't want you to treat me as if I were one of your princesses. They only hold your attention for a season; they captivate you for as long as they retain their mystery. As soon as you understand them, you become bored and look for someone else to adore."

"This is different." Hiromasa held his gaze, willing him to understand.

"I do not want to take that risk."

Seimei shivered, the wet silk clinging to his skin. Hiromasa scooped up the rest of his under-robes and wrapped them around him. He felt the tension in Seimei's body. He wanted to hold him, but sensed his embrace wouldn't be welcome.

He sighed. "You've told me what you don't want. Now tell me what you want."

Silence answered him. Seimei adjusted the silken layers.

Hiromasa tried again: "Why are you afraid of me?"

"Because I am no longer safe." Seimei looked up, expressionless. "I have wanted you for a very long time, Hiromasa. I wanted you even though I know from experience that a union between us will end in sorrow…"

"You refer to your parents' marriage?"

"And mine."

Hiromasa went cold with shock. "You have a wife?"

"Not any more." Seimei looked unbearably sad, an expression Hiromasa had never seen him wear before. Then he smiled, so distant and fleeting it did little to reassure. "It was a long time ago."

Hiromasa knelt before him and took his hands. "How old are you, really?"

Seimei met his gaze. "Does it matter?"

"No. Even if you were a thousand years old, I would still love you."

"I'm not that old."

He knew Seimei never answered questions on his past, and he'd always accepted it. Truly, Seimei's age wasn't important to him. But a wife… That was different. Hiromasa had never had cause to feel jealous before. He didn't like it. He preferred the thought that Seimei had always been alone until the day they'd met. The idea of Seimei with someone else, even a long time ago, made his heart twist with possessive envy.

Hiromasa shook his head. He had as much claim on Seimei as some long-ago wife. If only he felt more secure in his place. With this in mind, he asked, "Why do you fight this so much? You told me you were happy."

"Happiness is like beauty – it's fleeting." Seimei's laugh was uneven. "The court poets were right after all."

"No. They were wrong." Hiromasa tightened his grip on Seimei's hands. "Beauty might not last forever, but happiness can. Try me, Seimei. I can make you happy; I swear it. I would do anything for you."

Seimei freed his hands. He touched Hiromasa's face in a slow caress and smiled sadly. "Lady Aone told me we were destined to be together. I do not take kindly to the whims of destiny."

This time, Hiromasa hid his shock. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You died."

"But I came back!"

Seimei wrapped his arms across his body as if he was cold. "Lady Aone gave her immortality to restore your life. Perhaps I thought you would inherit some of her wisdom and knowledge."

"That's a poor excuse, Seimei." Hiromasa stood. "You didn't want to tell me because – because…"

"Because I feared how you would react." Seimei uncrossed his arms. He took a deep breath and exhaled. "Because I knew I would have to lose you again."

"You withheld yourself from me because you didn't want to get hurt?" Hiromasa heard his voice climb higher, incredulous. "Seimei!"

"I can be hurt. You know that."

"That was different."

"I died."

Hiromasa smiled. "But then you came back."

Seimei laughed, then turned serious. "I came back for you."

It was what he'd known all along. Hiromasa had never asked, never dared to hope, but he'd always known it. He drew Seimei to him. "Then let me love you. Even if it hurts, I will make it better. I will make you happy. I promise."

"Hiromasa." Seimei's voice wobbled. He muffled the rest of his words against Hiromasa's chest. "You are a very good man."