A flutter of movement in the summer breeze made Daisuke turn and look. Picking up the pile of paper he realized it was a sketchbook. The wind had opened it and Daisuke was about to close it when a drawing caught his attention. Before he really realized it, he had sat down on and was flipping though the sketchbook. Some sketches were rougher than others, simple outlines of scenery but then ...
Daisuke gasped, eyes widening. The picture he was looking at wasn't a rough sketch, it was a carefully detailed drawing. It showed a man, leaning leisurely against a wall; the play of light and shadows on his body from the sun shining through partially closed blinds outlining the slim body. He was looking at the observer and only on second gaze Daisuke noticed the details. One hand had slipped into the partially open pants, the other one hidden by the open shirt, revealing the finely muscled chest.
But that wasn't what made Daisuke swallow ... it was the look in the eyes of the man the artist had captured. Hot and longing, yet gentle... it made a certain part of Daisuke's anatomy want to take a closer look, too.
Damn, this was Dark he was looking at!
Sex on legs...
Daisuke quickly turned the page.
And swallowed.
Dark again, but this time it was only the face. He was reclining on a bed, strands of the dark hair pouring over the pillow. One arm was lifted above his head, the other one seemingly outstretched at the observer, the expression... gentle?
But there was something else, something not quite right, and Daisuke took a closer look.
And inhaled deeply when he realized it wasn't a pillow Dark had his head cradled against, it was a hand. And the not quite right' thing was due to the reflection in his eyes, the reflection of the other person the hand belonged to. Daisuke recognized the intense expression suddenly, because he had seen it before, in another face, at another time. It was a look Satoshi wore sometimes, too.
Daisuke understood what he was looking at now one of the most intimate moments between lovers. Something so utterly private, no one else should ever see it.
And Krad had been able to capture it in a simple pencil drawing?
He must have poured all his emotions, all his love for Dark into the delicate work. It seemed to start vibrating with energy...
Damn!
Someone cleared his throat behind him.
Daisuke closed the sketchbook with a thud' and looked into a pair of inhuman feline eyes that regarded him questioningly and a little sad.
"You looked at them?" Krad asked quietly and Daisuke nodded.
"The wind opened it. I know I wasn't supposed to look. Krad, you... you are good. Incredible, to be precise."
Golden eyes widened. "Thank you."
"Have you ever shown him?"
Krad shook his head. "No, you're the first one to ever have a look at them. They're... private."
"You put all your feelings into them, didn't you?"
"Yes."
Damn ...
Daisuke stood, handing over the sketchbook. "You'll have to seal it, Krad," he said softly.
Confusion crept into the demon's face.
"It's already alive. You're a Hikari after all."
"I'm no Hikari!"
"Oh yes, you are. You were born a Hikari, bound to the bloodline, hosted by Hikari artists for three centuries. You are a Hikari, even more than Satoshi. Seal, it Krad."
Krad looked down on the innocent looking book and Daisuke wondered how the demon could possibly have missed the magic the little object was already emitting in waves. He squeezed the other man's shoulder sympathetically as he passed him.
"I'm sorry. You are good, Krad."
Because it meant Krad would never draw again. Just like Satoshi had never layed a finger onto clay or marble again.
°
Krad opened the book and let his fingers gently wander over the drawings, feeling the magic inside push against a barrier, and he smiled sadly. When he had finished the drawings he had known that he didn't want to show them, but now that Daisuke had seen them the magic had awoken. He had never thought something like that would happen, could happen.
'You're a Hikari after all. Even more than Satoshi.'
No, Daisuke, not more than Satoshi, Krad thought. Never more than Satoshi.
He pulled out a white feather.
end of this drabble