Sunset

It was through a grove of trees that we found our campsite. The grass seemed softer, the air sweeter and the water of the lagoon more crystalline than any I can recall seeing. The place seemed almost magical or maybe it was his presence in the midst of it that made it so.

We had set up camp and had left each other to our own devices, me to my meditation and he to exploration. He could never understand the need for my daily commune with my soul but respected it nevertheless, knowing its importance to me. He had even tried it with me on a few occasions and though I thought he'd done well, especially for someone with an impatient nature such as his, he abandoned it saying it was better left to monks like myself.

I sit near a tree in a cluster of bushes by the lagoon and breathe deeply, removing my mask. It is only during these times of solitude that I feel comfortable leaving it off. I begin to chant the sutras mentally, letting them calm my mind and lead me to my cherished meditative state when I hear a splash, then another.

Try as I might I can not tune out the noise, which is strange to me considering once I prepare myself for meditation nothing deters me. I get up from my spot in the grass and look beyond the tree to seek out the source of the splashing.

I see him there by the water, knees bent in a crouch, pebbles in hand, tossing them out on the lagoon attempting to skim its surface. He throws a pebble and I watch it skip to the center then sink. He smiles, fangs' peaking through in victory then readies another stone.

Opportunities like this one are rare for me. Where I can watch him openly, without fear of being caught or questioned in curiosity. When these rare moments come I cherish them more then Suzaku himself. They make me all too aware that I cannot deny my feelings for him any longer. That they are as clear and brilliant as the sunset now over our campsite.

Sunset. It's the same color of his hair. The same brilliance of his spirit. When I close my eyes to mediate I've always tried to picture the soothing image of a sunset, but now I only conjure his image. A living sunset he is, as luxurious and awe-inspiring as the one above.

I slink down the bark of the tree until I'm sitting amongst its moss-covered roots and continue to watch him.

The muscles of his forearm flex under the tan of his skin as he makes another throw. His arm stays in the air for a second or two as the pebble skims the water. The white silk of his sleeve slides down to his bicep. The sunset makes his skin glow and accentuates every muscle. And I can't help but keep watching him . . . and love him.

But do I have the right to? Knowing what lies in my past. The scar on my face a perpetual testament to those times. I sought the tranquility of a monk's life to find some manner of peace for my soul, but does that peace dwell in one who I consider my closest friend and who I love more than any other? But more importantly could he love me? I turn my gaze heavenward and give a silent prayer to Suzaku for guidance when an even louder splash comes from the lagoon.

I turn my eyes back to the waters edge and see him no longer crouched down, but in the water splashing and coughing violently. I rush over, my mask forgotten in the grass and wade in to pull him out. The lagoon is not very deep but his fear of water has overridden his perceptions I suspect as I bring him to shore.

I pull him out of the water and watch him on the grass, body convulsed in fits of coughing. In his panic he swallowed some of the water and I rub and pat his back to help work it out of his system, soothing him back to normalcy.

His coughing subsides slowly and he rolls over onto his back and I remain by his side watching him take deep breathes. The front of his shirt falls open, revealing the sun-kissed muscles of his chest.

I watch as his collarbone rises and falls with each breath and wonder at what the taste of his skin under my lips would be like. In this thought some part of me has made a decision for I leaned over him and slid closer.

He looks up at me through curious amber eyes as my arm steadies my frame over his. His lips move, but if there was sound I could not hear it, the skin of his neck entrancing me so completely.

I could feel my heart beating in my chest. The fragments of seconds seemed like eternities, they go by so slow. So slow that time seems to have betrayed me and stopped completely. I am filled suddenly with a sense of something unlike me, a passion to be closer to him, and I realize it is his passion. His passion for life and the everythingness of it has infected me to my depths, making the quiet flames of my own passion grow. And it is the growth of this flame that makes me lean forward to kiss that enticing collarbone.

His skin is unique texture or warmth, firmness and softness that moves me to explore further up his neck. I hear him give a sharp intake of air an grabs a hold of my upper arm. Fueled by the passion he has given me, I move up his neck and through half-opened eyes I see that his are closed; lips parted and it is those lips on which I make my final descent.

His mouth is an equally wonderful texture as his skin and I feel his hold on my arm tighten and I close my eyes fully, savoring his mouth and waiting. Waiting for this haphazardly wonderful closeness to lead to an end. For him to use the force of his grip to push me away. To tell me its alright, that it was an accident and we're still friends. Though silently we both know that the nameless void of this kiss, under the sunset will widen and soon the friendship in him I treasure as much as the love I feel will fade like embers in a fire. Like the sunset into the night.

Knowing that this is a sure certainty, I am surprise when that tight grip on my arm pulls me closer and his delicious mouth opens further in response to me.

The feel of our embrace now is as unique as his skin. Hot skin cooled by soaking fabric, in its wetness is now translucent. Revealing and concealing in one instant. A dream this is, one I never want to end but I must know, is he merely caught in a moment only to regret it later or is there more. And so I break our kiss.

His breathing is as fast as when I pulled him from the lagoon and I find that my own is the same.

"Tasuki no da," I whisper in a raged breathe close to his neck. "I love you but if you want me to stop no da . . ."

I leave the sentence unfinished. I can say no more other then what is in my heart. I move to look at him fully and watch as he opens his moth, closes it and just nods his head. Silence has stilled his tongue as well. He then shifts underneath me, closer, yielding.

He never yields to anything, his passionate spirit does not allow him to. But in that one nod, one movement he has given me his passion as I give him my love. And so I move closer to let the warmth of the sunset envelop me utterly.

~Fin~