Drifting Away is officially complete. All of it. It's been finished for about four days now. The reason I've been so long to update was because I had a lot of trouble writing the yaoi bit out. I'm still updating only one chapter at a time though, so to get chapter7 you must review chapter 6. I'm a real ball-buster.

Warnings: AkitoxHatori yaoi/lemon/smut. This chapter is rated M. Don't say I didn't warn you.

THREE DAYS LATER

Akito awoke in a world of shadows.

He didn't know where his head was: it seemed to be suspended several inches above his neck. One hand spasmed and he brought it to his throat, feeling the muscles and skin. This was the second severe asthma attack he'd had in a few days.

The world was grey, white, shifting dreamily through his drug-haze. There was a sound: breathy, gasping, loud inhalations and exhalations; as if the air itself was breathing in and out. Akito listened.

After a while he recognised it as his own breathing, and with much effort he plucked the oxygen mask from his face.

He passed out.

When he swam back into consciousness his head was slightly clearer. He passed a hand in front of his face and watched the receding after-images.

Drugged?

A smile pulled at his mouth.

yes drugged

His cheeks were hurting. The god grinned crazily at the ceiling.

You probably gave me drugs for my pain, Minekura. But more likely you knocked me out for a while so I wouldn't hurt you again. silly Ox I will always find ways of hurting you

you're afraid of me

yes yes you are

Akito started laughing. Not loudly, softly, he chuckled to himself, ignoring the little barbs spearing his aching lungs. He stopped to breathe. Then chuckled some more.

How does it feel Minekura to bleed and bleed and bleeeeed?

I'm bleeding all the time. I'm bleeding for my family.

Now you're bleeding too.

Akito laughed. Froth bubbled at his lips.

You'll never die… you'll just bleeed

The boy closed his eyes, smiling faintly. Now there was one more thing he needed to accomplish. It required great concentration and will. He settled himself more comfortably, before putting his right hand over his heart.

---

Hatori put down his medical journal. A strange foreboding had swept through him, as if some sixth inner sense were trying to warn him of something-

"TORI-SAN! HOW IS MY BELOVED TORI-SAN! SHII-SAN CALLED ME AND SAID THAT YOU NEEDED CHEERING UP, THAT TORI-SAN WAS MOPING AND BEING ALL GLOOMY-DOOMY AS USUAL BUT FEAR NOT FOR I THE WONDERFUL AYAME AM HERE TO SAVE YOU FROM YOUR DARK CLOUD!"

Two well-manicured hands placed themselves on Hatori's temples and cranked his head back. The Dragon stared into Aya's golden eyes, blinking. Aya planted a kiss on his forehead.

"Oh my! You're a little warm – because I showed up? Ah hahahaha!"

My nightmare is complete. Hatori took a sip of his tea, wondering where Shigure was so he could distract his exuberant friend. "Hello, Aya."

"Bonjour, bonjour…or as the Americans say, 'hello!'" Aya seated himself magnificently and folded his hands on the tabletop magnificently. Because he was magnificent. Hatori felt like discounted t-shirt obscenely placed next to some stunning Gucci creation.

"Where's Shigure?" He didn't have the energy to withstand Aya right now. He wanted to take a pill and go to bed.

"Never fear…he's just doing last-minute touches on his manuscript. So dedicated!" Aya sighed. Then abruptly he nailed Hatori to the table with two golden eyes.

"Why, Ha-san…you're looking ever so pale. In fact, you look terrible…" Aya paused. "Shii-san told me what happened."

The doctor suddenly found a soy sauce stain in the wood fascinating to scrutinise. He stared until he felt his eyes would bleed.

The Snake watched him, watched Hatori start blinking very rapidly before ducking his head and looking away. Aya tapped a nail on the table.

"I'm not blaming you, Ha-san. I'm sure Akito knows deep down that it was an accident. All I want to know is…what are you going to do?"

There was a dry pounding in Hatori's temples. He pressed his palms to either side of his head to amplify the sound, feeling it thump down his spinal cord.

"Ha-san?" Aya eyed the clenched shoulders. "Ok," he said hastily, "We'll talk about something else, Ha-san…" There was nothing that upset him more then seeing the Dragon upset. But Hatori didn't seem to have heard him. Aya looked at his white, glazed eyes and shifted uncomfortably.

Hatori inhaled sharply. He put a hand to his chest.

"What's wrong, Tori-san?" Aya was looking nervous.

"Nothing…I…"

At then he felt it: a great, cold vacuum that yanked his heart and entrails against his ribs, so much so that he pitched forward, banging his forehead on the table. Aya leapt up, was shouting something but Hatori couldn't hear him. Some magnetic force was pulling at his chest, some power was working itself inside him.

The bond…the bond!

He dragged himself up, feeling a shallow trickle from his forehead. He put a hand to it…his blood was tingling…

Shigure ran into the room, saw the Dragon and came to help but Hatori jerked as a current surged through him and batted his friend's hands away. Shigure yelped as static energy pricked his skin. "Hatori!"

"Don't touch me," the man hissed. "You…can't." His heart wrenched and he closed his eyes. He had to obey the summons. The fine hairs on his nape were standing on end.

Aya was babbling. "Shii-san, Shii-san, we should call an ambulance –"

"No." Hatori had never felt better in his life. He arced his back as the power of his God surged through him, hungry, demanding he return to the altar. An invisible hand was tugging, plucking at him – he knew exactly where he should go.

"Shigure, I'm going to borrow your car."

His two friends looked at the doctor's crackling eyes and nodded, too awed to speak. Hatori turned jerkily, like a puppet on strings, letting himself be pulled out the door to where Shigure's car lay parked, warm and inviting, under a tree.

---

Akito relaxed his body and let his dark head sink into the pillows. His Dragon was on his way, the god could almost feel his presence in the house. Images flitted through his mind: Hatori buckling his seatbelt with clumsy hands, leaving four feet of rubber as he peeled away, his wild, exultant bluegreen eyes.

He let his hand fall from his chest. He'd used his broken limb for the summons and that made the connection all the more powerful. By channelling his puissance he'd given his Juunishi strength, his life, it flowed from him to Hatori like electricity, bringing him back to where he belonged.

Yes, he wanted to bring back those expressionless eyes, those cool hands, that soft, cold voice.

The boy closed his eyes. His strength was just about spent; he was flushed from the exertion of summoning Hatori. Well, he would go to sleep, and perhaps wake when his Dragon returned. Or if he didn't, then he was happy to know that Hatori would be there, somewhere in the Main House when he awoke, his Dragon-scent filling its rooms once more.

Yes. He would be happier with Hatori here.

He would be even happier once he made the Dragon apologise.

Akito smiled, rolled onto one side, and fell asleep.

---

Hatori stamped on the break so hard he would've flown through the windshield if his seatbelt hadn't been fastened. He sat trembling for a moment, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. He'd been speeding, but strangely no policeman had seen him. The doctor struggled out of the seat belt and lunged out of the door.

He stood for a moment in the chill air of the Sohma grounds, catching his breath. Now that he was so sensitive to Akito's presence, he could feel the god's subtle energy spread out like spider silk, its silvery strands coating the entire estate. This was the centre of worship: the place of the Godhead, it was the Acropolis, it was St. Peter's. Hatori fell to his knees.

After a while he got up and slowly made his way to the Main House. He followed the silvery lines to where all lines must meet, at the web's centre, where his God lay. Hatori floated past rooms and servants…he couldn't see Kiro anywhere, but that hardly mattered…down a long hallway, with a certain door at the end…he neared it, his hand was on the knob, he met no resistance, and he was in the room.

A skeletal glow came from the slightly parted curtains, criss-crossing across the floor, the walls, and the bed where a huddled figure lay. Hatori breathed in. There was a faint, familiar, medicinal smell.

He approached the bed.

Loosely clothed in a grey yukata, Akito lay on his left side, his bony broken wrist stretched out. His little limbs formed a sloppy Z. A band of light fell across one exposed shoulder, making it gleam like porcelain. Slowly, mechanically, Hatori put one knee on the bed, leaning over.

Akito had stuffed a bunch of pillows under his sleek dark head, so his face was almost lost from view. Hatori reached out and brushed some bangs away, revealing his god's face. Akito murmured, pressed his lips together, exhaled. The bond between them was so close now the Dragon thought sparks should fly. If he touched Akito again they would both probably implode.

Slowly, hesitantly, Hatori reached over and took Akito's broken wrist in one hand. Akito didn't move; he kept on breathing slow, dusky breaths. Hatori ran his fingers over the little bones, assessing the damage, moving unconsciously into doctor mode. It was healing nicely. He silently blessed Kiro for his work and made a mental note to thank him.

Where is Kiro? I thought he'd be near…

Akito made a sound and turned over on his back. Hatori placed the wrist down, looking at his god's child-like face. All thoughts of his friend vanished as he drunk in those sooty lashes, half-parted pink lips, and Akito's expression of utter peace. He'd never seen Akito look like that before.

Kiss him

Inwardly moaning, the Dragon lowered his head inch by inch until he was a heartbeat away. He could feel warm breath on his lips…

He bent down.

And choked. Five white fingers were around his throat.

Akito's eyes were open and bared. He gently shoved Hatori away and struggled into a sitting position, yukata sliding down to his waist. He smiled, almost dreamily.

"Hatori…you're here…"

"Yes," the Dragon whispered. He didn't care about his neck. He didn't care about anything except Akito.

"How dare," Akito intoned – drooping forward, swaying, drooping back, so sleepy – "how dare you even touch me without…even…asking my forgiveness…"

"I'm sorry." Hatori didn't recognise this croaking voice. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry – forgive me, Akito-sama, for my disrespect…" He sucked in a breath. "I'll take whatever punishment you ordain."

"I'm glad…to hear you say that." Akito smiled sleepily. He took Hatori's shirt and tugged him forward.

"I'm glad…because I've already punished you, Hatori. In so many ways."

"What?" Hatori let this comment pass as a bit of Akito's madness.

"You'll hurt. I promise you." Akito stopped talking and sat there, eyes closed.

The Dragon raked his salacious eye-tongue over every inch of him. Akito was just sitting there: drowsy, drugged, warm…he wanted enfold that feverish body with all his limbs.

Akito drooped forward so suddenly Hatori thought he'd passed out. But no: the god raised his face heavenwards and sent a deep glance through every bone, every vein of Hatori's being.

"Bathe me, Hatori."

---

He did just that. Akito put his warm arms around Hatori's neck and let Hatori carry him to the bathroom, he was too weak to walk. Hatori walked slowly, enjoying the feeling of his god's face pressed hotly against his neck, those hot breaths. He had his own arms wrapped around Akito's slender body. They were lovers already.

Akito said nothing while the Dragon ran hot water from the tap; put cleansing bath oil in the water. He stayed where the doctor had placed him, sitting on the closed toilet seat, blinking from drowsiness and morphine.

Hatori shed Akito of his yukata, but Akito didn't climb in the just yet. He knelt nakedly by the side of the bath and dipped his finger in the water, frowning as he tested the temperature. The doctor shivered as the adolescent licked his finger, and nodded. Hatori helped him in.

Once in Akito lay back and closed his eyes as if too exhausted to move. Hatori gently scrubbed at his body with soothing, slow strokes. His god lay there, flushed and damp-browed. His skin gleamed from the oil.

Hatori was sweating as well, from the heat of the bath and his lovely, maddening god who was oblivious to the effect his milky shoulders, slim thighs and gleaming clavicle were having on his Dragon. His trousers were tight, and he shifted.

Akito picked black-sodden bangs away from his eyes. They immediately plastered to his cheeks. "Did you feel me call you…Hatori?"

The Dragon jerked. "Yes, Akito-san. Very strongly."

"It was because of this, you know." The god held up his broken wrist. "You marked me. The bone was receptive to my power and your presence and was able to find you easily. So, I called for you." He sat up.

Hatori began washing Akito's back. "Why did you call me back, Akito-san?" he said quietly. "You said you didn't want me near you again."

Akito grew silent for a minute. Hatori felt the lithe muscles stiffen. "Could you blame me, Hatori? Would you want someone who hurt you near you again? Someone who had been close to you for a long time, destroying that unspoken trust with a violence action? No, don't speak. I'm prepared to forgive you Hatori, little by little. It may take some time."

"Yes." Hatori had expected nothing less. He had to earn his trust back.

Like a trainer trying to soothe an impulsive animal, Hatori gently massaged the tension out of Akito's back. He let the washcloth slip from his slick fingers, letting them brush and flutter against Akito's spine. He kneaded the vertebrae, examining the bumps and ridges as if feeling some strange shell. The god sighed, his eyes becoming dark and milky.

"Hatori…"

Akito squirmed as the doctor's fingers moved up to massage his neck. Hatori sucked his breath in as his thumb and forefinger felt the glistening down on the boy's wet nape. He was glad the bath was between them, he had a raging hard-on.

"Do you like it, Akito-san?"

The boy focused on him. Hatori almost fell into the depthless eyes. "Yes…Hatori."

"Good." The doctor's voice was cotton. "I want to make you feel better…Akito-san."

I want to make you forget the pain I've caused.

His hand trickled around from the neck, sliding down the thin chest. Akito sucked his breath.

Hatori trailed his naked fingers down as far as he dared, keeping his eyes locked with his god's. Akito was lithe, lean as a dancer, a beautiful little god sitting naked in a bath.

My fingers are on his hips…they're as slender as a twelve-year-old's. Oh, this is maddening. He's eighteen but his body is so much younger…so young and perfect, smooth and nubile. Oh God, oh God. Is this wrong? Is what I am doing wrong?

The Dragon watched Akito's face as he teased him with light caresses, little fluttering touches that never lasted long enough, moving across Akito's skin like silk. When he had enmeshed the god in a pink glow of fingers, Akito shuddered and leaned against the bath. "Stop it. You're just playing with me." He put his head on the side.

Hatori could smell the warm wet hair. "What would you like me to do, Akito-san?"

"You know," Akito whispered duskily. "You know." He reached out with one dripping finger and touched Hatori's lips. A tingle shot through him.

"Akito-san..."

Akito smiled. He took Hatori by the tie and tugged him towards him, until Hatori could feel water dripping on his neck. Akito started planting wet, soft kisses around the Dragon's face, never on the lips, until Hatori was flushed and aching. Only then did Akito chuckle and let him feed on his open mouth.

My eyes are closed. So are his, but I can still see the after-image of wet lashes against his cheeks. This time, there are no tears. I can see the negative image of his body pasted against the darkness of my eyelids, a glowing ghost. I can feel him with my hands – his thin shoulders, soft slick nape, incurved abdomen and

Hatori yelped. Akito had slid his hot little paws into his shirt, their heat assaulting and arousing the Dragon. He responded by reaching for that special heated place between the god's legs – and when his hand located what it sought a dreamy, dark expression flitted over Akito's face.

"Ahh…Hatori…"

His moan was swallowed by the Dragon's mouth.

Akito tugged on his hand, urging it, shuddering into Hatori's neck. Even in this solitary ecstasy he kissed his Dragon, coming darkly near, then jerking back.

Hatori breathed the scent of wet skin as he investigated the warm hollow of Akito's throat. He felt the boy's thighs grip his wrist; then relax.

He lifted the slumped god out of the tub, then wrapped him in a white cotton robe. Akito was completely limp, head thrown back like a dead boy's. Hatori pressed the warm bundle to him and carried the god to his bed.

He laid Akito on warm sheets. He could still feel the delicious heat from the bath water radiating off the slight body. Akito smelt of bath oil and soap and Hatori was intoxicated. He wrapped the scents around him like scarves.

The boy appeared to be asleep. Hatori looked one last time at the cherubic image on the sheets.

He wanted to kiss him again so badly. But while in the bedroom, his sharply-trained eyes had noticed Akito's glazed-glass stare, his pallid cheeks, and slight, almost unnoticeable twitching. The god was drugged. Perhaps he hadn't even noticed Hatori's caresses.

Then he remembered Akito's slithering little tongue in his mouth. No, Akito had definitely responded.

So why did he feel so guilty? Hatori felt like he was taking advantage of Akito, in his semi-helpless state.

This is wrong…isn't it?

He started to leave.

"Don't go…Hatori."

A hot little hand grasped his sleeve. As he turned, Akito tugged on it.

"Don't leave…again."

Hatori took a deep breath. After all, this was what he wanted. "Never…Akito-san." He lay down on the bed, right next to the boy-god.

Akito reached up, and with one pale hand, began to explore the Dragon's face. He remembered every hollow and ridge, the dry softness of the lips. When he reached the left eye, he paused. Then his fingers brushed over it, up to the temples, and Hatori breathed again.

He liked the crisp, clean smell that Hatori's shirts smelt of, his pale, toned body and icy bluegreen eyes. Akito was reminded of Chinese dragon carved from ivory. He could sense Hatori's Zodiac nature – the real Dragon, coiled hidden under the skin. He could sense fire, and scales, claws, and wings. To have such power unleashed upon him made him tremble.

"Akito-san?"

The god opened his eyes. Hatori was leaning over him, concern on his gentle features. Akito realised his slight shaking had alarmed the Dragon.

"Are you all right?"

"I am now." Akito put his arms around Hatori's neck and kissed him.

This seemed to trigger the Dragon, because at once he was kissing back passionately, his hands all over the god's slight body. Akito was thrilled at the sudden speed and heat and he gasped. This was what he wanted, this fire…

In no time at all he had removed the doctor's clothes with miraculous speed. Hatori ached as Akito's dark head drew further down his midriff, licking, teasing. He shuddered as his zip was opened.

"What are you…ahh…"

Little lips were on him, little teeth were nipping, a little tongue was lathering him, up and down and up and down and up

he was going to explode, as only Dragons can, in flame

ahhh akito

It stopped. Hatori made a keening sound, deprived of his completion. Akito kissed the imprint of his slacks pressed onto his skin, and moved up. He straddled Hatori and leaned forward so his black bangs tickled Hatori's face. He was naked.

"Not yet…"

He began grinding his hips into the Dragon's, gasping as Hatori began arching against him. The Zodiac connection had turned into a delicious friction that was rubbing them raw.

Hatori looked into Akito's face.

For a moment, he thought he saw something else. Something that looked like Akito but was radiant-

He entered another plane of being where nothing else mattered, save for their two bodies working against each other, a hot golden sphere that was expanding…

ohhhh god

Akito pitched forward and Hatori came after him, shouting as his release flooded between them, completely consumed. The god shuddered as the Dragon's fire prickled and tingled against his belly.

Hatori shut his eyes as radiant after-glow closed in from all sides. He was still hard, and when a mouth closed around him he clutched the sheets. Akito teased him cruelly, until he was an inch from the abyss, then abandoned the use of his mouth and started feeling Hatori up and down…regular and even, then slowing, almost stopping...squeezing, then moving again, until the Dragon came so hard his ears rang.

"Where did you learn that?" he croaked weakly.

"I improvised," Akito whispered smugly, leaning over to nip at the doctor's hipbones, "Now…turn over."

The doctor almost refused, he was exhausted, but then Akito pressed his mouth over his own and breathed tingly, cool energy down his throat. He did so, and the god slipped inside.

Hatori thought it would hurt but it didn't, there wasn't anything more natural and right in this world. He thought he'd spent himself but as Akito started to rock him with slow, steady strokes, there was the far-off hot tingle in his stomach and he arched his head. He regained in two heartbeats the hardness he'd lost, cock touching his midriff.

The god thought he was sheathed in hot silk. Hatori's sharp hipbones were pressed against his fingers, he achieved a steady luscious rhythm that was slow enough to prolong this hot throbbing sweetness but not fast enough to undo him. That was it. Slow and rocking.

He pressed Hatori to him and the Dragon submitted, reaching back to clasp Akito's hips, driving the god deeper in. He wriggled as Akito hit a certain spot.

"Ah! Harder…"

He was hit again and cried out.

Akito began bucking his length in and out, withdrawing so just the head nuzzled before driving himself in again. Hatori felt the god swell inside him. He was near, so near-

A little hand was on him, pumping him, slicking up and down his weeping cock. He felt teeth bite into his shoulder.

And he came, hard and furious, feeling Akito release inside him, spasming against him. There was no finer hurt. He wished it would last forever.

Akito withdrew and fell to his side, eyes closed. He seemed diminished, almost translucent. Hatori cupped the boy's downy cheek: hot, but whether from the exertion of sex or fever he couldn't tell. He remembered Akito breathing life down his throat.

"Akito-san…are you all right?"

Akito mumbled something. Hatori felt his insides clench, if he'd hurt Akito in any way…

"What?"

Akito's languid dark eyes opened. "I said, I'm fine. And don't call me –san…it's Akito now."

"I see." The doctor felt the words pull away from his lips: "Am I forgiven?"

The god massaged his wrist, sore from lovemaking. "Not yet."

He put two fingers on Hatori's forehead. "Sleep." He watched the Dragon sink into the sheets. Akito himself dozed for a bit, before waking and sitting slowly up in the bed.

He glanced at Hatori

You haven't seen Minekura yet…have you, my Dragon?

---

Let me remind you that this fic is complete. I'm asking for 5 reviews a chapter before I update. This is not a lot, I could ask for 10. We have two chapters to go and I think they're some of my best. So…review and I will update and hold you dear in my heart. :D