'Klaus, get off.'

'Come on...'

'Not now!'

'Why not?'

'You said yourself I have to keep an eye on the broth or it might boil over -'

'Ah, don't listen to me. Half the time I make things up to sound like I know what I'm doing. Besides,' he added in a low growl, 'something else is about to boil over.'

'Klaus -'

Between the persistence of Klaus' embrace behind him and the heat of the stove in front, Taki was getting more flustered by the second. And then he felt stubble on his neck. Lips. A small nip of teeth.

The broth simmered on the stove, filling the kitchen with the earthy, enveloping smell of vegetable stock. It was a sight and smell Taki had been enjoying until Klaus stopped to peek over his shoulder at its progress; a subtle move that soon escalated. Now Klaus was pressing into his back and his hands roved over Taki's abdomen.

'They might get back soon,' Taki tried, irritated to hear he sounded just slightly breathless.

'They'll be shooting the breeze at Verner's for hours, trust me. He and Claudia don't stop talking once they start.'

'But...'

Over the years, Klaus felt he had almost perfected the art of seducing Taki. It took patience and a learned hand. But that particular day, a week before he was to turn thirty-two, he was impatient for no real reason. So, despite knowing he ought to have spent more time holding Taki against him and maintaining a steady trail of kisses on the back of his neck, his hand wandered far too early to Taki's crotch.

The jarring nature of the grope, plus the thought of the entire Strauss family pouring back in through the front door at any moment, plus Taki's perfectionist need to ensure the meal would be up to scratch, made him click his tongue and slap at Klaus' hand with the wooden spoon.

'Ow!'

The blow wasn't gentle. Klaus retracted and stared in surprise.

'I want to get this right,' said Taki, turning to the side so Klaus could see his half-irritation and half-guilt in profile. His face was a little red.

Klaus chuckled and backed off.

'Whatever you say, Master.'

Being able to touch Taki almost whenever he wanted, with no need to worry about Uemura or Haruki or Suguri or small, impressionable children being on the other side of the door, had relaxed Klaus a great deal over the years. Though he was reticently aware that Taki had never once made the first move, he was willing to let that slide. He also tried to ignore his latent paranoia that he was still, in some way, having to convince Taki to sleep with him almost every time.

Paranoia, Klaus told himself as he stepped out onto the lawn outside.

Taki returned to the pot and stirred, trying to get his pulse to settle. Despite what he had said, his whole body had responded to having Klaus so close behind him. He could still feel the small sting of teeth on his neck. Especially the abruptness of the hand on his cock.

Still, with Claudia and Wilhelm and the kids visiting, he decided it would do them both some good to control themselves for a weekend.

The phone rang twenty minutes later, just as Klaus was coming back from the vegetable garden. Out of the corner of his eye, Taki saw Klaus' hands were smeared with soil and that his shirt was slung casually over his shoulder.

'Hello?'

Taki kept a surreptitious watch on Klaus as he reached his free hand up to absently scratch the back of his head. The muscles of his arm stretched and contracted. There was a light gloss of sweat on his washboard stomach. His belt hung low on his hips. Pulse picking up again, Taki turned back to the chopping board.

'Yeah, I figured,' said Klaus after a pause. 'Have fun.'

He hung up.

'Told you,' he said to Taki. 'Verner brought out pretzels and Claudia said they're going to be another half hour at least.'

He tossed his shirt over the back of a kitchen chair and was about to head outside again when the intuition he had honed over the years came through for him. Detecting a strange vibe in Taki's silence, he turned in time to see Taki do the same.

'The - the broth's done,' Taki said stiffly.

Klaus flicked a glance at the pot on the countertop and back at Taki. He tried to identify the look on Taki's face.

'Good,' he said, nonplussed.

Taki opened his mouth and closed it once more. Klaus waited.

And then it clicked.

Not exactly a first move, but close enough.

Klaus tried to wipe the soil from his hands as he crossed the small space to Taki but they still left faint streaks of black like charcoal on Taki's neck and clothes. Taki pressed back against him when they kissed, his hands gripping Klaus' shoulders. Klaus pulled him away from the counter and onto the kitchen table.

The rose-engraved flower vase that Taki made, and which hadn't once been removed from its place on the kitchen table, only survived the onslaught thanks to Klaus' inordinate amount of affection for it.

It perched safely on one of the chairs until the table became free again.

Dear Claudia,

Thanks for the birthday card. Please pass on my thanks to Wilhelm for his hastily scrawled signature at the bottom of the card and his lack of message. Really brought a tear to my eye.

Don't worry about not being able to make it over this year. Thirty-three means I'm officially well into my thirties and I don't want to be reminded of that. I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me. You're practically an old maid now, after all.

It was a low-key day today, unlike my birthday three years ago. You remember what Taki got me back then, right?

Klaus had woken alone on the morning of his thirtieth birthday, already caving to the irrational conviction that his best years were behind him. Just as he was beginning to wonder why Taki wasn't beside him to assuage his fears, he heard a strange set of noises outside.

He sleepily shuffled to the front door and swung it open to see Taki standing beyond the short front gate beside a tall black stallion, its burnished ebony coat glistening in the sun.

A speechless Klaus recognised the horse from a recent market fair where he had spent a while admiring its strength and size.

'Imagine him running through the long grass behind the cottage,' he had said wistfully to Taki, without any agenda.

Taki had imagined it too. It blended perfectly with a thought he once had about filling the Reizen grounds with horses, foxes and cats if it made Klaus happier.

Klaus and the stallion, Wolfsbane, were instant kindred spirits. The small shed out back was extended and outfitted as a stable and Klaus spent many a happy afternoon grooming him and explaining to him the finer points of distinction between western and eastern cuisine.

In exchange, on Taki's birthday that year, Klaus arranged for all of his sisters and Sumi to arrive at the cottage and surprise him. He also filled countless jars and pots with his own homemade rose jam; Claudia's recipe which he had first shared with Taki in Luckenwalde and which was well received by the entire Reizen family as they huddled around the fire in the thick of winter.

I can't believe it's been almost seven years. Have you ever had the feeling you slipped into someone else's life? A life you barely deserve but which, for whatever reason, you find yourself waking to every single day?

Of course, there have been moments over the past seven years that I wish, with my whole heart, I could take back.

Klaus wrote those words to Claudia with one particular moment in mind, one that took place less than a year after they moved.

Though their work on the farm kept them both active and fairly fit, Taki sometimes caught Klaus on the lawn outside in the middle of work out routines and felt the need to keep at it himself.

One afternoon towards the end of summer, Klaus returned from town with ingredients for his grandfather's strudel. He glanced out of the kitchen window to see Taki lunging and whirling across the lawn, sweat shining on his face and flying off his fringe and a broken rake handle, in his hands, having been transformed into a weapon.

An old excitement flickered to life. Klaus dislodged the handle of an old mop and strolled down the back steps, twirling the plastic beside him almost casually, revelling in the way Taki glanced round in surprise, chest still heaving.

'Round three?' Klaus said, his tone deceptively light.

Taki's stomach somersaulted at the way his eyes flashed beside the slightly raised, golden scar which made him look even fiercer.

A few minutes later, Verner stuck his head out of his garage, wondering about the strange reverberating, insistent clacking noise. It occurred to him that he might be hearing the rare sound of two male deer going head-to-head in a battle for territory, antlers locking and clashing.

Taki found himself on the defensive as much as not. As had happened before, Klaus' size alone nearly made him lose his footing. On top of that was his speed and aggression.

But Taki was quicker still; his moves more precise and disciplined. He caught Klaus off guard a few times at the tail end of his attacks when Klaus' heavy momentum slowed him down by a fraction. Still, Klaus always managed to recover in time.

Neither was willing to let up, even for a second.

'Not going to lose,' Klaus panted between lunges, 'just because you trip me up again. No tricks this time.'

A particularly strong blow of plastic on wood sent them both back a few steps. Klaus laughed.

Taki's body was alight with the adrenaline of combat. He reminded himself that, though he never stood a chance against Klaus' brawn when Klaus seized him or pinned him, in a situation like this, he had already proven twice before, once at Luckenwalde and once at the compound, that he was the better fighter.

It took three more strikes. On the first lure, Taki tested Klaus' balance. On the second, his speed. And on the third, he waited for the right moment after Klaus' lunge to side-swipe him across his left arm and back. Klaus ducked and Taki missed.

The rake handle instead thwacked loudly into the left side of Klaus' face. Right across his scar.

With a surprised grunt, Klaus staggered to the floor on all fours, the plastic handle falling onto the grass.

Taki's heart sank and he dropped his own makeshift shinai.

'Klaus! Are you okay?'

He heard a short chuckle before Klaus reared back up, dragging the back of his hand across his sore cheek.

'I guess that's three out of three.'

Before Taki could get another word in, he was caught up in a whirlwind of Klaus' arms and lips and tongue. He could barely remember the steps they took back into the cottage, through the kitchen and hallway and into the bedroom. The next thing he knew, Klaus' impatient hands were roaming beneath his shirt.

Even through the familiar fog taking over his mind, Taki still saw the way his stick had collided with the side of Klaus' face. The way Klaus had stumbled.

It had been over a year since the shrapnel had blazed a permanent trail across Klaus' face. But the guilt was fresh.

Klaus sensed something different in the way Taki reached up to touch his cheek. The fingers brushed delicately over the scar and pulled with almost clinical care against the healthy skin around it. As though Taki was checking for damage.

Sighing in fond exasperation, Klaus bent low to kiss him. He met a guilty gaze.

'It's fine, really,' he said, hearing the hoarseness of his own voice. He wanted, badly, to be inside Taki. To channel the adrenaline of their sparring into something else. But his conscience had stretched across this urge like a thin forcefield, telling him to reassure his master first.

'Are you sure?' Taki asked.

'I promise. In fact, feel worse for you. You're the one who has to see it all the time.'

Taki's fingers traced the scar again. The ridge started and ended thin but widened slightly in the middle where it had cut deepest. It was the same colour as Klaus' skin with a glossy tint. A whiplash frozen across his face.

'I don't think it's - I don't mind it.'

After a whole year, Taki couldn't recall Klaus' face without it. He had become quite attached to it.

'You don't hate it?'

Words that were covered in a light dusting of insecurity. Taki almost smiled.

'No.'

'You can tell me. I promise I won't burst into tears.'

'It's not -' Taki struggled and prayed he wasn't blushing. 'It almost... suits you.'

Eyebrows went up. Taki regretted his words immediately.

'Really?'

Taki let out a short, frustrated sigh. His blush had spread a little. Klaus' eyebrows went up further, now complemented by a small smirk.

'So you don't hate it.'

But the self-consciousness was gone from his voice.

'No.'

'Do you maybe... in fact... like it?'

No response.

Does it, maybe, turn you on a little bit?

But Klaus wasn't game enough to ask. Instead, he channelled his line of questioning elsewhere and felt blood rush to his cock again at the sight of Taki, who had so soundly defeated him on the lawn outside, lying flushed and prone beneath him.

'Tell me what else turns you on.'

Taki made a sound of annoyance; a defiance that he struggled to maintain when Klaus pulled off Taki's clothes one by one, none too gently. His naked body was revealed piece by piece.

'Does it turn you on when I touch you here?'

And the tip of his finger slipped into Taki's hole.

'Mmh...'

Klaus watched with a grin as he probed and stretched Taki out. Almost, he thought. That was almost an answer. Let's see how far you'll go.

'How does it feel when I...'

His cock slipped in and filled Taki in one push. Taki gasped and arched himself up into Klaus' body.

'...thrust into you, right to the hilt?'

Klaus' voice emerged strained and tight. He held himself there for a few beats before he began moving, holding Taki down by his shoulders, biting lightly at his neck and earlobes. Taki groaned.

'How does it feel?'

Klaus drew back to angle his hips so he would brush against Taki's sweet spot, making him cling helplessly to the sheets, eyes glazed.

'Tell me,' Klaus said.

Even in his state, a thorny feeling began to overtake Taki.

He was used to Klaus' vocalisations during sex, but this time it was different. This time, it was like Klaus was waiting for an answer.

'Come on,' Klaus insisted, his smile playful and wicked as he kept thrusting. Sweat had gathered on his face. 'Tell me. Tell me you want it.'

Klaus relished the moans and Taki's grip on his shoulders and the smell of him and the feel of him. But he wanted to tease something more out of him for the first time.

'Nngh! Ugh... Klaus...'

Taki's utterance, Klaus knew, was a small protest. But still he kept it up, wondering if a little more urging was all it would take, imagining how it would feel to hear him say it felt good. Or that he liked it. Or anything.

'Just say it.'

Taki felt as though he was in the middle of a glaring, interrogative spotlight. Not for the first time, it was only Klaus waiting for a simple reply to a simple request. Something that anyone else would have been able to give him. And yet...

Someone who deserves your light.

It's not me, Taki realised yet again. He turned away, his lips tight and only barely holding back the moans that were pushed from him with each thrust. He felt tears smart his eyes.

'Come on,' Klaus urged. 'Say it -'

'Stop.'

It took Klaus a second for the word to sink in.

It was the first time since they were in the middle of the war, since Klaus had vowed never to touch him without his consent again, that Taki had ever told him to stop.

'Taki -'

'Please, just...'

Taki couldn't look at him.

'Stop. Just... get off.'

He didn't mean for it to sound so harsh. He only needed a second to gather himself. He needed a breather so he could come to terms with an inadequacy that seemed new but was the oldest one he had nurtured.

Klaus felt Taki closing to him. He was both inside Taki and suddenly far away. Taki's face was turned to the side and he was doing all he could to avoid Klaus' eye.

After all that time, Klaus couldn't stand it when Taki turned away from him.

It wasn't a snap decision so much as his handing over the reins completely to the creature within. The one who controlled both himself and Taki in that moment.

Suddenly he had held Taki's hands down above his head. And thrust in again.

Taki let out a small cry. His eyes widened and he turned to look at Klaus in confusion.

His insides went cold when he recognised the look in Klaus' eye. The glint. He knew his Klaus had receded. And in his place -

'Say it,' Klaus hissed.

A deep, territorial plunge. Taki moaned and tried to tug his hands free.

'Klaus, stop!'

A slowly building panic. Drawing less on what was happening there and more on what had happened once a long time ago.

Klaus held him down fast, his body hard and unmovable, and his cock kept thrusting.

'Stop -!'

Klaus' next words were uttered through clenched teeth and sounded as though they were torn from a place of darkness.

'Why can't you just fucking say it?'

Before there was time for the words to really leave an impact, Klaus had suddenly pulled out and rolled off him.

Taki gasped in the sudden empty space. It took him a few seconds to find his breath. Klaus had moved to the edge of the bed and sat there silently, his shoulders rising and falling as he panted. Taki couldn't see his face.

He tried to sit up.

'Klaus -'

Something about Klaus' stillness scared Taki more than what had just happened. He reached out, almost without thinking, to touch his arm. To fix this - whatever this was.

Klaus jerked away from his touch.

Still without looking at Taki, he got up and pulled his clothes on and left the room.

Taki was left breathing heavily in his wake. He realised it was the first time Klaus had ever recoiled from him like that. The feeling was brittle and awful.

Klaus spent a long time in the rose garden. He half expected Taki to follow and was grateful when he was left alone for as long as he needed. After he left the garden, not yet feeling ready to go back inside, he tried to put his mind to some of the chores he had been avoiding. But he found he couldn't concentrate.

His mind was a whirl of fury. At Taki's constant, perpetual, everlasting distance. His silences and his revulsion. His revulsion. Because, clearly, a part of Taki still found what they were doing, what they were, morally repugnant. Something to be done and then shelved and never spoken of. So it would be harder for the gods to keep score.

If he could just squeeze a word out of him, Klaus had thought. A few little words so Klaus could finally know for sure. Was it really so hard for Taki to give up just another small piece of himself? He had given so much already, so surely this...

He's given so much already, a small voice reminded Klaus.

Gods above, he's given so much. Look where you are. Look where he is.

He suddenly dredged up an old memory; one that he had mulled over from time to time and which seemed especially relevant now. A year ago, when Taki took leave of his sisters in the front of the Reizen property, Klaus had heard all sorts of lamentations; how much they would miss their brother, how they would think of him often and how they would write all the time. Taki had returned each sentiment.

And yet Klaus had never once heard the word 'love' pass anyone's lips. It was never uttered by either Taki or his sisters, whether gravely or affectionately or otherwise. He remembered how much the little observation had startled him.

In hindsight, the taboo nature of that particularly overzealous expression did seem in keeping with their culture; the entire culture, and almost certainly those with Taki's standing. But it was a particularity that had somehow eluded him over the two years he had spent with Taki in the east.

He wondered about it again as he stood in the garden, being benignly judged by the roses in their summer bloom.

And then it hit him, with a near-sickening force, how close he had come to repeating the single worst mistake he had ever made. Something he couldn't atone for no matter how many times he put his life on the line. Something unforgiveable that Taki had somehow forgiven.

He went inside and stood in the kitchen for a while, trying to imagine what he would do or say if he went into the bedroom. When every single one of his ideas seemed woefully inadequate, he instead turned and unpacked the ingredients he had just bought.

Meanwhile, unsure of what to do with himself, Taki had gotten dressed and remained on the bed for the past hour and a half, floating in and out of a fitful sleep. He awoke to the smell of baking pastry.

He had enough dignity and self-respect to know he ought to be angry. He knew that Klaus had broken his trust. Klaus had broken his own vow, or at least come dangerously close. He knew that Klaus should ask his forgiveness.

But none of those rationalisms made even a dent in the only emotion that had taken over since Klaus jerked away from his hand. He was, quite simply, afraid Klaus was still angry at him.

He took a few nervous steps into the kitchen and stopped.

Klaus didn't turn to look at him.

Taki stared at his broad back and his hands busy at work. On the counter, a few feet to Klaus' right, there was a chopping board laden with rosy apples and a knife.

Anxious, guilty, desperate to do something with his hands, Taki went to the board and picked up the knife. He drew one of the apples towards him.

He then realised he had no idea how apples were sliced for a strudel. He also realised, in a moment of surreal foolishness, that he was too nervous to ask.

Only a few seconds into Taki's ridiculous deadlock, Klaus suddenly sagged. He held the spoon limply on the counter beside the bowl of flour and cinnamon and stared straight down. He turned to Taki, whose pulse raced for a split second.

Then he pulled Taki close against his chest.

Relief flooded Taki right to his fingertips. He felt the distinct sensation of something melting behind his ribcage. He held the back of Klaus' shirt.

My wolf, Taki thought, as though the words had been waiting somewhere for the past hour and a half before falling on him. My knight. All of him is mine. Every part of him, every side to him. And I can't keep letting him down like this.

'I'm sorry,' he said.

Klaus made a noise of frustration.

'Don't you fucking apologise,' he said, his voice low. 'You didn't do anything. I'm the one - I don't know what happened. That wasn't me.'

Or was it?

'I'm sorry,' he said.

Bur Taki wasn't ready to let it go. He had to say it now or the chance wouldn't come up again and he would keep hurting Klaus in the same way.

There are some things, Meiji had said, that are so inherent to our natures that it is impossible to change them, no matter what the circumstances.

'Klaus,' he said. 'I - there are some things I just - I can't say.'

'I know.'

'I'm sorry.'

'I know.'

Klaus pulled back a little to look at him properly and his heart gave a small thud at Taki's look of nervous, guilty relief. He smiled weakly before he went on, aware of how his words were about to sound.

'It's just that, even now, I feel like I'm taking advantage of you every time I touch you.'

Taki stared and began to shake his head, wondering how in the world he could start to assure Klaus of how much -

'I need to know that it's not just me,' said Klaus, echoing something he had said long ago, something that had gone unanswered. 'I need to know you want to as well. You do, right? Even if you can't say it?'

There was a long, drawn-out pause.

Eyes on Klaus' chest, Taki nodded once.

Klaus let out a quiet exhale and kissed Taki on the forehead through his hair. Without another word, he then moved back to the bowl and picked the spoon off the counter.

After a few moments, Taki also turned his attention back to the apples, almost light-headed with relief.

Klaus threw him a sideways glance when he picked up the knife again.

'Cubes,' he said with a small grin, holding his thumb and index finger an inch apart. 'About this big.'

I think I've grown, Claud. I hope I have. (I can hear you saying you hope so too.) There might be moments I wish I could take back, but at least, in the past seven years, I never repeated them again.

There are secrets Taki keeps from me, and I've finally come to accept that. After all, I kept my own secrets for a good long while. I lied when I first came to Taki in Luckenwalde. I lied about so much before I was really his. And even after all that, it took years before I was able to talk about the first war. And so it's only fair for me to let him keep things to himself.

He remembered how evasive Taki had been about the long scratch along the body of their truck. He claimed to have scratched it against a gate, which, given Taki's proficience behind the wheel, struck Klaus as highly suspicious.

But he had learned by then that pressing for answers would only bring about more anger and more silence. So he had changed the topic swiftly and noticed the way Taki tried to hide his relief.

Now that I'm thinking back on all of it, I guess the first year or so was filled with old mistakes.

But since then, things have been good. Better than I ever dared to hope, in fact.

Taki's been keeping track of what's going on in the east, which helps me feel less guilty about how far I've dragged him from his homeland. We get missives and things from the emperor himself from time to time. Did you hear they're calling him the most beloved emperor of our age? I take some credit for that.

Only a few days before Klaus wrote those words, Taki had walked slowly through the front door sorting through the mail. He had one letter opened already.

'News from the east?' Klaus asked from the couch where he was fine-tuning the gramophone.

He recognised the emblem on the letter through the page. It had come from the Fifteenth Armoured Division, which had been turned into a permanent military training base a year after Taki left for the west. Six years on, Uemura was still its official commander and, owing to a staunch loyalty that refused to ebb after all that time, he took it upon himself to keep Taki up to date every so often.

'Uemura's looking to retire in the next year,' Taki said. 'They're vetting possible candidates for Division Commander.'

'Anyone we know?'

Taki kept reading and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

'Lieutenant Colonel Yamamoto.'

The name didn't register with Klaus for a moment.

'Yama-?'

He looked up in mild shock.

'Not Haruki?'

'Apparently so.'

'There's no way the kid's a lieutenant colonel! He's only -'

The years caught up to him then in one big hit. Almost seven of them.

'He'd be... twenty-one by now. My God.'

A twinge of sadness. He remembered wishing Haruki would do something else with his life. They hadn't heard from him in all that time and Klaus had wondered once or twice whether he was out there somewhere, bookish and dedicated, dazzling the world with his inventions.

'At least it's peacetime,' he reasoned aloud, thinking how Meiji had kept his vow. 'The kid'll be fine.'

Taki heard the note of protectiveness in Klaus' voice and smiled. He filed the letter away in the bureau by the living room window.

As he closed the drawer, it felt as though the thought of war had seeped into the room through cracks in the door and windows. Taki somehow knew Klaus was thinking of it too. They were united in their vague distrust of peace. Their constant paranoia about what was around the corner.

Klaus took a breath and went to stand beside him, suddenly itching for a cigarette.

There's no honour in war, Meiji had said to him once in a courtyard in Eurote. No matter why it's waged, or how. As long as I have the throne, there won't be another one.

Not a peep from the east, the west or Eurote about any more nuclear threats. No border disputes or claims to land. No civil wars or cold wars or anything that threatened the peace they had built. The peace that rippled through the freshly harvested stalks outside.

And so Klaus thought he'd liven the mood.

'Glad the kid kept our little secret this whole time,' he said reflectively. 'We chose a good bunch, in the end. Even if we didn't have much choice about most of them.'

Claudia, Suguri, Haruki, Meiji. And Hans. Hans, who had driven them apart and brought them back even closer than before, and whose name neither had spoken over the years.

Unbeknownst to either Klaus or Taki, however, there was one more name on the list.

The previous year, when the Strauss family visited for a weekend and Taki had fended off Klaus' advances by the stove, Heinrich was making his way from Verner's farm back to his uncle's.

He was tired of listening to his mother and Verner speaking of things that bored him to tears. His sister, of course, sat perfectly still and upright and listened as though it was the most fascinating conversation in the world.

But at twelve years old, Heinrich couldn't bring himself to pretend. He had slipped out when he had the chance, ignoring his father's disapproving glance, and headed back towards the cottage.

He had been pleased with Klaus' comments about how much taller he had gotten. He had been especially happy when Taki had quietly agreed.

He always enjoyed being around the pair. There was a sense about them, which he picked up despite his age, that they had seen more than they could possibly explain. As though they carried secrets of the world that Heinrich couldn't even imagine. He eagerly devoured stories about the war whenever Klaus was in the mood. He envied them for their wisdom and their experiences and sometimes felt oddly frustrated that men like them seemed so content to have retired to such a quiet corner of the world.

Grappling with such thoughts, Heinrich reached the cottage and glanced through the window.

He froze.

It took a few seconds for him to understand what he was seeing. And when they did, he dropped to the ground, heart pounding madly in his ears.

He would sift through the images in silence for a long time. His uncle on top of the kitchen table. Taki beneath him, his legs open and hooked around Klaus' lower back. The way Taki seemed to cling to him. The specific, violent, intimate gyrations. Heinrich's face was hot with humiliation and his pulse still hammered. He backtracked quickly and quietly.

And spent the entire afternoon trying, and failing, to understand. He tried to remember how he had once felt about his uncle. Lycanthrope. The war hero and pilot and knight.

That evening, when the family gathered for dinner, during a moment when Heinrich wasn't paying attention, Taki had leaned in from behind him to put Heinrich's plate in front of him. He had glanced around in surprise and hoped Taki, whose small smile was as gentle as ever, didn't see how flustered he was. He was still trying to understand how someone like Taki, quiet and noble and dignified, almost like his own father, had been turned into... whatever it was he had spied through the window.

He cast a nervous glance at Klaus, who was across the table listening with an amused smirk to one of Eva's stories about boarding school. Taki came to sit beside him.

Heinrich found himself staring at Taki again. Remembering. Imagining -

'You okay there, Wolverine?' Klaus said suddenly.

Heinrich looked round with a start, feeling like he'd somehow been caught looking earlier that day.

'Yes,' he replied.

Klaus watched him quizzically for a moment before turning back to Eva, who resumed her story. Taki listened in.

They were still the same, Heinrich realised in a moment of clarity. There was nothing different about them. At all.

And so he began to eat.

Little things keep surprising me. Good things mostly.

Like how Taki recently managed to win the whole town over. The sheriff's wife was broken down in the middle of nowhere and Taki happened to drive by. He fixed the car in no time, of course, and even made sure she got home safe before turning back. The old gossip told the entire town about her knight from the east (even though Taki barely thought it was worth a story when he came home). I never did like that sheriff or his weasely kid - always felt as though they had it in for Taki for some reason. But not even he can do anything now. Not when Taki's the darling of the town.

Klaus paused in the middle of writing with a smile. It seemed there were no end of stories that he could pour onto the page.

There was one last one, however, that had to be his favourite of all.

Just last month, we camped for a whole week in Mother's little clearing. It was originally supposed to be a couple of days but we couldn't bring ourselves to leave...

They were lost to the world for a whole week, even though, by that stage, they had already been lost to the world for years.

Before they began the hike up the side of the waterfall, Klaus and Taki stood by the small river which carried the pleasantly mottled reflection of multicoloured trees. The lively, temperate spring morning had brought several locals down to the riverbank. A few families and couples picnicked on the grass.

Klaus, in his own words, was well into his thirties. It had been a while since he had indulged the juvenile thrill of challenging Taki to feats of strength and speed. Under the warm blanket of the past few years' peace, he had settled down considerably.

Or so Taki thought.

'I bet the water's the perfect temperature for a dip,' Klaus said in a would-be careless drawl.

Taki absently murmured his agreement. Klaus' lips curled into a smile Taki didn't see in time.

'You'll let me know, won't you?'

Before Taki could shoot Klaus a questioning glance, Klaus had seized him and tossed him deftly into the water.

Several people nearby looked up at the sound.

Taki's stomach flipped horribly as he was made weightless; a sensation that was replaced immediately by the cold shock of hitting the water. The river was too deep to gain any footing so he surfaced with a gasp and began to tread water.

Just in time to see Klaus dive in fully clothed as well, sending a fresh wave of water over him.

Klaus swam close enough to see what he had envisioned years ago; clothes plastered enticingly to Taki's slender, lithe body and angry dark eyes glinting through wet hair. He let out a loud laugh and tried to sidle up to Taki in the water.

Furious at Klaus, and mindful of people who could see, Taki pushed him away with a swell of water that hit Klaus in the face. Klaus' laugh, however, left a crack in his armour.

As did the juvenile challenge to race him to the waterfall and the unfair headstart. Taki had half a mind to crawl back up onto the shore. But, with an annoyed glance at Klaus' figure pulling away through the water, he sighed and followed.

Despite the headstart, Klaus only beat him by a few strokes.

Once they reached the fall, which was impossibly loud up close, to Taki's surprise, Klaus pushed right through it and disappeared.

When Taki followed and emerged on the other side, he was surprised to find he was in a small, echoing stone alcove, shielded from the world by its perpetual white curtain of water. Small drips sounded against the backdrop of the waterfall's constant roar. Hazy, ethereal water reflections danced on the curved roof of the alcove. But he didn't have time to truly appreciate the suspended bubble he had wandered into.

For Klaus had abruptly him pressed up against the stone wall where the water was just shallow enough for their feet to touch the river bed. Taki was caught between Klaus' hard, drenched body and the cold rock.

'Wait -' he started, hearing his voice bounce almost alarmingly all around them.

'No one can see,' Klaus said, predicting his protests. 'Or even hear.'

He licked and sucked at Taki's neck, salty and slick from the water, and began undoing his belt beneath the water. By the time he had tugged Taki's pants free they were both breathing heavily, foreheads pressed together Taki was holding onto his neck and shoulders.

Klaus felt for his hole beneath the water and his cock hardened almost painfully when Taki gasped and held onto him tighter.

When Klaus' cock pushed in, Taki's mind was filled with the whiteness of the fall and the sight of Klaus' sodden hair, a colour that was almost dark, sticking to the side of his face, framing his eyes and scar and jaw.

Then he was lost to the feeling of being filled. Marked. Claimed. He remembered a time in his shower at the compound when he lamented his weakness in Klaus' hands.

And now he revelled in the thrill of that complete surrender. He felt each plunge tear a new, echoing moan from his throat, sometimes forcing him to tilt his head back into the rock wall and other times making him hang his head forwards onto Klaus' wet shoulder. Water swelled and broke against the wall with each thrust.

'Taki,' Klaus breathed. 'Fuck, Taki. You feel so damn good.'

Taki only gripped the back of Klaus' hair and whimpered.

Echoing moans countered by the deafening waterfall.

Vows of purity countered by Klaus' hands.

Uncertainty, inadequacy, guilt and old mistakes, all countered by his love.

'Nngh, Klaus... Klaus... Klaus!'

He came only seconds before Klaus, who had been pushed over the edge first by the way his own name had sounded in Taki's broken, breathless voice, echoing around the small space around them. And second because of the unreal pressure of Taki's body seizing around him as he came.

He held Taki fast against the rock for a long time afterwards. Taki, strangely enough, had the distinct feeling that not even the gods had seen them there in that little bubble.

Taki knew on their first night in the clearing that they would want to stay for longer than two days. They had left a quietly pleased Rudi in charge of the entire cottage as well as Ori and Wolfsbane, and Taki sensed he would be only too willing to extend the favour for them.

They had moved from the bubble of the world behind the waterfall to the open bubble of their hideaway, and the latter proved to be even more hypnotic.

Klaus actually succeeded in showing Taki the orange hide of a fox before it darted away. Deer were a common sight, though they never wandered too close.

And nearby, a thin creek sang on its merry way down the steps.

The tent was pitched and Klaus started a fire. As dusk slowly caved to night, Taki watched, mesmerised as embers leaped from flames to a sky that was overwhelmed with stars.

Klaus sat near him, leaning back on his elbow and staring at the fire. Neither had said a word for quite some time, though Taki still remembered the quiet chuckle that had accompanied his last words.

Now the smile was gone. In its place was quiet contemplation. One that deepened and sank into melancholy as the minutes lengthened. His eyes were on the fire, his face still.

When Taki looked at him like that, he seemed, almost, alone. The sight tugged at his heart in an urgent way. He wondered if he ought to say anything. Or do anything. But a small voice, one that had looked out for them in the shadows, told him Klaus was almost there.

Then the warm yellow gaze was back, flashing in the firelight. Wide lips lifted in a small, sad smile. The scar folded and crinkled near his left eye.

'Did I ever tell you what happened to me in the first war?'

Taki's heart beat a little louder.

'No.'

Klaus stretched out fully, hands behind his head, and his vision filled with the strange beauty of stars bordered by canopy. Like a big, sparkling tear in the sky.

He began by telling Taki the names of all his men. Names which he hadn't spoken aloud even once in the intervening years. Not even to Claudia.

Early the next morning, Klaus walked back to the tent in the crisp, dewy air holding a handful of mushrooms he had found which, he was almost sure, were edible.

He ducked under the tent flap and saw Taki was slowly waking. Ruffled hair and clothes.

'Morning.'

Klaus crawled over him slowly until the full length of his body hovered over Taki's. His master, who had seen the darkest parts of him, almost since the very beginning, and wanted him still. He stayed there for a few moments before bending low to kiss him.

Then he turned to lie on his back, his head next to Taki's and feet facing away. He inched upwards a little until the top of his head rested against Taki's shoulder and Taki's head rested against his.

'Found breakfast,' he announced. 'I'll cook it up in a minute. It'll either taste amazing or kill us.'

Taki turned to look at him and caught a wink.

'Can't have everything work out, can we? Where's the fun in that?'

There was serene pause where Klaus' own innocuous words recalled an old saying his grandmother, and sister, favoured.

'Know what Claudia reckons someone needs in order to be happy?' he said. 'Something to do, someone to love, and something to wish for.'

Outside the tent, songbirds struck up their choirs, some sweet, some shrill. Taki absorbed the maxim. He saw the wisdom of it. How it reflected the innate need to keep searching. It seemed to suit Klaus especially well.

He hesitated for a long time.

'What - what do you wish for?' he asked finally, a little afraid of the answer.

Klaus looked at him.

Almost everything he had wanted seven years ago had come true.

All that was left was his wish for Taki to be his in every way, without any hesitation. For Taki to say so in a few simple words that would erase any lingering traces of doubt. So that Klaus would know that everything he had done had been done right by his master.

'Nothing at all,' he said.

After a thoughtful pause, he added, 'Claudia must have gotten it wrong, then.'

Taki, who had watched him closely, sensed that he hadn't told the truth.

'What about you?' Klaus asked, suddenly a little nervous as well. 'Anything you wish for?'

Taki looked at him.

For you to be happy all the time. For me to feel like I deserve all of this. Like I deserve you.

'No.'

Another silence fell. Their answers, their untruths woven together out of love, were suspended in the cool morning air. Air that would warm steadily over the day as sunlight spilled over the tree tops.

When Klaus next looked at Taki, he seemed to be on the point of saying something. Taki reached his hand up past his shoulder, fingers outstretched. Klaus met him halfway.

For a few seconds, Taki held his hand and laced his fingers between Klaus'. He brushed Klaus' calloused palm with his thumb.

'Do you remember back in Luckenwalde,' Taki began quietly, 'when we were under the laburnums? I said something in my language. You wouldn't have understood it back then.'

Klaus remembered as clearly as though it had been the previous day.

The first time I heard you speak the language of your homeland, it sounded like the warbling of a little bird. The sounds seemed to roll one after another, dancing on your tongue. I didn't think they were words at all.

'I remember,' he said.

Sing to me one more time, Taki.

'I've always wondered what you said. I didn't think you'd even remember if I asked.'

This time, I'll hear you out until the end.

Taki took a few more moments in silence, just to hold onto his little secret while he could.

Then he repeated the words exactly as he did, in his own language, under the yellow flowers of Luckenwalde.

'If you only you and I could fly away together,' he said slowly. 'To the other side of the sky.'

Klaus' heart skipped a beat.

He stared at the side of Taki's face, at the serene gaze that was trained on the roof of their tent as though it was looking through to the dome of blue beyond. He had no idea that Taki's feelings had run so deep and so long ago; since before he was even Klaus' master to begin with.

He tried to find a response that would do justice to the simplicity and weight of Taki's words.

Then Taki turned to him, his eyes full of love and not a trace of self-consciousness. After holding Klaus' gaze for a while, he closed his eyes and sighed quietly, the faintest of smiles playing on his lips.

And Klaus, smiling gently in his turn, eyes narrowed with tenderness, was suddenly grateful he hadn't thought of anything to say.*

I think – I hope – he's happy here. I hope I've finally done enough.

Anyway, thanks again for the card, Sis. Sending my love to Eva and Wolverine.

Klaus

And so, after traversing east and west, after reaching the ends of the Earth and back, after years of falling apart and coming back together, they found themselves alone in a little rose garden in the west.

In the end, Taki had never in fact brought himself to ask Klaus what it was like to have given everything up for him.

But Taki had given everything up for Klaus in his turn. And he hoped that what he had done would make up for what he couldn't say.

Folded in their diamond-patterned quilt against Klaus' warmth, Taki thought back on their seven years in the same way Klaus had done when he sent his last letter to Claudia. Moments tumbled at him haphazardly, both the bitter and the sweet, the mundane and the uplifting, in no particular order. It was as though the events of the past seven years had all co-existed in one instant.

Occupied in his reverie, it took a while for Taki to remember that Klaus had asked him what had kept him awake in the first place.

The dream. Their multitudes of lives. The way they were torn apart each time.

He remembered something about how, in their final lives, they would carve something out for themselves. A small pocket of peace. A niche in the curse of their intertwined fate.

A curse and a fate which suddenly seemed grandiose and unreal and distant when he had Klaus like this. When they were able to enjoy a simple late hour together like that. So he decided to spare Klaus from it all; to bear it in silence for Klaus' sake.

'I'm not sure,' he replied. 'I just couldn't get back to sleep.'

'We could give it another crack. You sound tired.'

Taki nestled further into the space between Klaus' neck and shoulder. He closed his eyes.

And you must know, though I could not express it before, that you have made me happier than I ever thought possible.

Words he would write to Klaus in his final letter almost exactly a year from then.

'Let's stay here a bit longer,' he said.

*Author's note: For a visual of this little moment between them; same page and same asterisk.

Also, the amazingly talented Tenkamchi-sama has done a stunning drawing of a scene from this chapter - little Heinrich seeing his uncle and Taki in a compromising position through the kitchen window. Please visit my Ao3 to have a look! I'm still trying to get over how good it is and how happy I am that it happened and I'm just in awe of the skill and the feels (KLAUS' FACE IN THAT TINY SLIVER OF A PANEL AND TAKI'S HAIR KILL ME NOW) so I'll stop gushing before I embarrass myself. Thank you Tenkamchi-sama! Xx