Disclaimers: I own none of the characters in this fanfic.

Author's Notes: Well, here it is folks, the first chapter in this fiction and re-written to better specifications. The last one pissed me off with all the errors and the repeating itself. I hope I get as much feed on that as this one. And... I think there'll be a second chapter, I don't know, really. Anyway, the idea is from Fourty Days. :D Yey, for that movie, it kicked major ass. M for... well... Sex, I guess, though it's not really. Oo; Yeah... Okay. Anyway. HERE WE GO!

Communication

by: Saint Sergio

A feather light touch of a white flower against alabaster skin as soft as snow falling on a calm winter night, such as the one outside tonight. Soft gasps ring through the bedroom. Candles burn dimly, but it is enough to see the figure of two people on the bed; one an older, more filled figure. The other figure was arched on the bed, panting and moaning sweetly as the fist figure bend down to blow on a petal that had fallen off. Heart racing , hair spread around like the flowers caressing his skin. How his love was able to do this with just a simple flower, he'd never know. How they were going to get away with this... He'd never know. He knew, however, his love was going to figure this out.But he didn't care right now, this felt wonderful, sex without being touched, without words. No, not sex... Love making. This was making love. Just simple caresses of a flower, the soft winds from a lover's lips. There were no kisses, no hugs, no skin contact at all. His hands were restrained above the bed with soft cloth, not tightly. His feet were bound as well.

At least, he thought it was happening. Could this be some marvelous dream he'll wake up from before he reached his end? Oh, he hopped not. He knew this was real. He felt that gentle wind against his ear, the flower now caressing his neck, stem just running lightly across skin that had never known this touch, sending new waves of pleasure through him. The little buds ran down his chest, caressing his skin softly. His back arched as the flower traced around his sensitive nipples, causing him to moan out louder. Oh this was pure and exquisite torture. These feather light touches were driving him insane. Yet, he said nothing, not yet. He was still to scared to cry out loudly, afraid it would shatter this vision, this dream he knew wasn't.

As he looked up to his lover, his face went a bright red. His lover looked so perfect. Black hair framing his face, glasses discarded, eyes burning intently in a sole purpose to please him. He'd pushed aside his own needs, to remain celibate. Though, after this, would he still be celibate? Oh, how his heart longed for the priest to touch his skin and how he longed to touch; they couldn't do it... He was a priest and he was a child. It went against everything the priest did... Even what they did now. But his lover assured him God would forgive them. They haven't joined as one yet. Forbidden love is how it was described. How a feeling could be forbidden didn't make any sense to this fallen angel. He hated it! He cursed it, and yet... Knew this to be true.

This is what had been waiting for since he had first seen this man. And that motion rocked his entire world. From the moment Tomonori found him, he knew he wanted to love this man, to have this man love him in return. Not like he said he loved everyone, oh, no. He wanted Tomonori's full affection, attention, his full love. To be touched by his hands, kissed by his lips... To be snuggled next to him as they slept, to sit together on the couch whilst reading.. Something normal and solid. Yes, he craved for normal; as he was not.

The flowers moved lower, tracing random patterns along his exposed stomach, petal falling off from its place, landing on his navel. Amou Tsukasa looked down as the priest neared his stomach, that soft, gentle breeze was back, blowing on his stomach, making him moan out once more. His toes curled at the vibrations he felt from that petal. Slowly the lone white petal moved down his stomach, tucking under the hemming of his boxers. The breeze kept blowing gently, never getting harder; the flowers moved past, moving to run along the boy's legs, making him shudder and gasp as Tomonori traced the bottom of his feet, ticking him slightly. Then the flowers moved back up, tracing the inside of his thighs, causing his body to jump up and his back to arch further. He tugged at his hands; he wanted to run his fingers through that silky raven hair, to caress his cheek or to pull him close for a kiss. He was denied by the slack scarves that were about his hands and tied to the post.

Tomonori said that was to keep Tsukasa from touching him, and it did the job. It hurt, honestly, to not touch him. He craved that as well; a needy little boy.

The breeze stopped on his stomach, causing Tsukasa to whimper out, but then the flowers traced along his groin, running over the center of his need. He arched up, trying to get more contact, but Tomonori pulled up, keeping with the feather light touches. However, he did speed up taking that much amout of pity on his fallen angel. "My beautiful Tsukasa..." He whispered out near the boy's ear. The first words said all through this time. "How I wish this were me... Caressing that beautiful skin of yours... Kissing those lips... Those soft lips.." He placed his lips just centimeters from the angel's. "I long for you every day, every night... I'm jealous of anyone who gets to touch my Tuskasa.."

It was like Tomonori said some magical words. His Tsukasa... Tsukasa's mouth opened in a silent scream, his body shaking from the intensity of his climax. It was the first one of his life. Slowly, oh so slowly did the pleasure ebb away, leaving the boy panting on the floor, his restraints untied. He was still looking into those same dark eyes of the man he loved. Slowly those lips lowered onto his forehead, giving him a soft kiss. "Sleep, my Tsukasa.." He whispered.

Tsukasa blinked and noticed his eyelids felt like led. The sleep came in to fast. He wanted to protest against it, but the feeling of the priest running a hand through his hair proved to be soothing. His hands were untied now, and they reached for Tomonori's and found it. He held the Father's hand as he was lulled to sleep, glowing in the afterwake of a beautiful moment forever etched on his brain and in his heart.