Five minutes to eight Tatsumi stepped into the large entrance hall of the Club, looking around and inwardly cocking one eyebrow. It was a dance club, yes, but from the looks of it it also held nice booths that granted people some privacy. Folding his coat he took in the atmosphere, watched the clientele and looked for the blond head he knew so well.

"Can I help you, sir?"

The man addressing him was wearing a dark suit; only a little patch with the Club insignia gave him away as waiter.

"Tatsumi Seiichiro. I might be expected."

"Yes, sir, indeed. If you'd follow me, please."

The waiter made an inviting gesture and led the way through dancing couples and chatting patrons to the far end of the club where it appeared to be a little more private, more... intimate.

Watari was already there, waiting for him in one of those booths and nursing a drink. Tatsumi slid into the booth beside his lover, smiling politely at the waiter who took his order for a drink and disappeared silently.

"You're on time." Watari said, sipping at his wine.

"Of course."

"Didn't expect you to be anything but."

"Taka, why did you ask me here?"

Golden eyes met his, pulled him in with their intensity. "You're no one to beat around the bush, aren't you? I asked you here because I need to see you - Seiichiro my lover, not Tatsumi the secretary, or the Shadow Master. I asked you here because we're not back to square one... we're way beyond square one. I asked you here because I want you back."

"Taka.. "

Watari lifted a hand, silencing whatever Tatsumi had wanted to say.

"What happened wasn't your fault. It was my carelessness and it backfired. But I really hope we can work this out together." Those eyes grew even more intense, the expression on Watari's face changing. "I... I need you, Seii. I don't know when I will be able to let you near me again but... I miss you. Not just the sex, but all the other little things."

"Gods, so do I," Tatsumi uttered hoarsely, "like knowing you'll be there when I wake up in the morning, even if you're not in the room with me. Like knowing you are looking at the same stars at night, even if you're not with me; or you cooking Brussels sprouts for me even if you hate that stuff yourself, just because I like it."

Huge golden eyes stared at him in disbelief.

"Who are you and what have you done to my lover? Gee, you have it bad, don't you?" He gave a little laugh of disbelief, not more than a breath.

"Just because I love you."

There was a long moment of silence before Watari smiled faintly at him.

"I know," he simply said.

"Taka? Do you think we could... work this out together?"

"I honestly don't know," Watari answered quietly, "but I'll try. I want to try."

The waiter appeared with their drinks and Tatsumi took a sip of his, staring into the fizzy amber liquid.

"'Taka, what exactly did I do?" he whispered after a while. "I mean, I know what I did, but I can't remember. It's like a dream, a faint feeling, but that's it. What did I do?"

Watari inhaled deeply before he asked his own question. "What do you remember?"

"Having tea with you. You were waiting for the results of your research to come through, and I wanted to go back to the office. I kissed your neck... next thing I know is I'm laying on the floor, you underneath me, and you're crying. I've never seen you cry, Taka."

Tatsumi watched as Watari's hands clenched around the glass he was holding, but his lover's voice was stable.

"What you did is quite simple. Yes, you kissed my neck, I said no. You locked the door, and the next second you're all over me..."

Watari kept on recalling the events almost emotionlessly and Tatsumi felt himself getting more and more sick.

God, he hadn't known he had broken his lover's wrist... had he really been that violent? There was the faint memory of Watari's voice pleading him to stop, to not do it... and all of that should have been caused by tainted tea?

He knew he was shaking, that his hands were by now clenched tightly around the napkin that had been on the table, bunching it into a ball of fabric that would never be a napkin again.

He had... used his shadows?

Of course he had. He had seen the result, the destruction.

But he had... he had... Watari?

A hand touched him, pulled him out of the vortex, and he blinked, trying to focus. When he finally did so, it was to look into a pair of empathic golden eyes. Eyes that were swimming with emotions, with unshed tears.

"'Taka," he croaked. "I didn't... I'd never... I can't remember!" he moaned helplessly.

But Watari could.

Each and every second of it all.

"I know, Seii. I know you can't. The tea... it was no longer green tea. It was a personality-altering substance. It was something hideous and sneaky, and the concentration was too high for your body to fight it like the first time."

The first time. Yes...

He had just been rough, demanding, taking what he wanted, but he hadn't hurt him.

The second time...

Tatsumi had to get out of the Club, had to get some air, but he didn't want to run. He didn't want to give the impression that he was running away from it all. He just wanted some open space and oxygen to clear his head.

"'Taka... can we leave?" he pleaded softly. "Just... walk?"

Watari nodded and after slapping some bills onto the table, the two men left.

It was a clear, warm night. Nice, actually.

Tatsumi's thoughts were far from enjoying anything like that. His mind was whirling.

Their walk began in silence, but he knew he had to say something soon. Watari had just spilled the whole sordid tale, without breaking down, and here he was, Tatsumi, Master of Control, and he was losing it.

Over something he couldn't remember.

"I'm sorry sounds terrible," he whispered after a while.

Watari stopped and looked at him. "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could do. It was a chemical process inside your mind."

"But maybe - it set something free that has always been there."

Golden eyes reflected the light of the lamps, looking calmer than Tatsumi thought his lover should feel. "We all have the same emotions, the whole range of them, inside us. We have all the good sides and the bad sides, the love and the violence. The stuff that you drank... it erased the good side. It turned loose the bad. It would have done the same with, well, anyone. Like Tsuzuki. It wasn't your fault!"

"Will you ever be able to stand my touch again?"

Those eyes looked at him with a hint of desperation. "I want to, Seii. And more. I want to be able to not only stand your touch but enjoy it. I know how your touch can be like; I know you can be gentle and soft, or passionate. I want to be able to touch you myself. I want to ... I want to love you again."

"I never stopped loving you."

"I know. On some level I know."

"I love you," Tatsumi whispered.

Both men looked at each other, neither making a step forward. Tatsumi so badly wanted to embrace the slender form, hold him, just hold him, but it wouldn't be the next step.

They spent the rest of the walk in silence, each man lost in his own thought and in the presence of the other. Arriving at Watari's apartment there was a moment of awkwardness, before Tatsumi dared to ask.

"'Taka... may I... kiss you?"

Watari nodded slowly and Tatsumi bent forward slowly, careful as not to corner the other man, until almost tentatively their lips met, brushed featherlike over each other, almost as shy as their first kiss had been. Only that this time they were even more careful. It was sweet and loving and Tatsumi enjoyed every second of it. Reaching out he brushed his fingers through the long silken strands that framed Watari's face, longing for their tickling on his skin as much as he longed for the man himself.

And then Watari tensed. Tatsumi realized he had come closer, almost bringing their bodies together and he stepped back apologetically, only hesitantly breaking the contact with his lover.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," Watari answered softly.

And suddenly he was there in his arms, bringing their lips together once more. It didn't last long, Tatsumi let go at the first signs of shivers running through that slender body, but the feeling of maybe being able to have Watari close again was enough at the moment.

Watari stared at him, eyes wide, slightly wild, and he was breathing hard. Whether from the kiss or the on-set of panic was hard to tell. His skin was flushed.

"I'm sorry. I will need time," he murmured.

"I know. Take as much as you need."

Tatsumi smiled reassuringly and was rewarded with a hesitant smile.

"Good-night, Seii."

"Good-night, Taka."

Tatsumi watched his lover disappear into the apartment complex he was living in and he felt his heart grow heavy.

It's easier for you, Seiichiro, he thought to himself, you don't remember. He does. He has to live with the memories and your presence.

Tatsumi prayed, for the first time in his undead life, that he would be given the chance to heal the wounds he had inflicted on this soul.

Because he loved Watari.

So very, very much.

tbc...