Infinity Nights

4. Bedtime Stories

He's a quiet one, Freya mused as her brown eyes studied the dark-haired man on top of her. During their transaction, he was specific and succinct. He didn't even bother to give her his name, knowing that it was not important in the exchange. Even during the act of making love, he only made the proper sounds to release pressure and increase endurance. He was efficient with his movements, pleasuring both himself and her with no ceremony and least effort. His face appeared contorted in thought more than with exertion as he filled her and moved inside her body.

He fascinated her immensely and this fascination grew when he peaked and spoke unnecessarily, for the first time. "Mage!" he had cried out as he and Freya both found release.

Freya did not recognize the word and knew it couldn't have been from Piffle, else she would probably have come across it. She had, after all, a most diverse clientele because of the popularity of her innocent face and unusual blonde hair. She quickly assumed it was a name or an endearment of sorts. There was a twinge of jealousy at that thought, because she was one who yearned for someone, but knew she could not have him. Now, more importantly, if there was this "Mage", why was this man with her? Freya's inquisitive nature overran her envy and cynicism as she loved to hear about the loves and failed loves of others. She waited until they were both calm and their bodies had settled down before she let her curiosity take over.

"Who is 'Mage'?" Freya inquired in that childlike manner that made her questions impossible to keep unanswered. The dark haired man had been conscientious enough to hold her close after their activities, letting her revel in his warmth. When he said nothing, he pushed her small hands against his chest and stared deep into his red eyes. "You called out that name. Who is that person? Is that person your only one?"

First, there was a flash of anger at the intrusion, and Freya almost feared for herself. If she got this one angry, she knew she would be in danger. He seemed to be the type who would not think twice to kill her with quick precision. When he made no move to attack her, she relaxed a bit and settled back down on his chest. "If you have someone that special, why are you with me?"

"It's none of your business," the man answered tersely.

Freya pouted at the setback, but she knew quite well how to get her way. She feigned indignation as she said: "It is my business if you insult me by saying her name while we're together. I am every man's fantasy and when we're together, you should only be thinking about me."

There was a thoughtful silence, and then. "Sorry," he apologized sincerely. "And 'Mage' is not his name."

"A man, then? Your special one is a man," Freya was a bit surprised, but did not think it too unusual. Some men just swung both ways. There were a lot of callboys--very popular ones at that--around Piffle, so why did this man choose her if he wanted to be with a man? Bought sex was about making, for a moment, fantasy a reality. And then, she remembered something that made her unique amongst the sex traders of Piffle. "He has golden hair like mine, doesn't he? You know, I bet I can guess who that person is with little trouble. Very few people in Piffle have hair like mine."

"You don't know him," the client responded shortly.

Freya nodded understandingly, "Because you're not from around here. I saw you win the dragonfly race today and I've never seen you before," she mused. "Men with your talent are easily noticed in Piffle." A devious gleam shone in wide brown eyes. "Come to think of it, that strange blond man who took second place isn't from around here, either, is he?" The man holding her stiffened making her giggle, "I hit a chord, didn't I?"

A grunt. "You talk too much for a harlot."

"I did," Freya concluded smugly. She then resumed her questioning, still curious, still mystified by the story of this stranger. "Since you're not from here, it doesn't hurt to talk to me. I'll never see you again, right? Things often get much clearer when you hear them said."

"I don't know that for sure," he murmured, closing his red eyes.

Freya was egged on by the slightly more welcoming response. She placed a hand on the smooth angled cheek. She idly noted that there didn't seem to be any signs of a beard or even a moustache. "He's beautiful, isn't he?" Her fingers lightly stroking his face made him open his eyes so that she was staring right down at those garnet orbs. He really did mesmerize her. "So, why aren't you with him right now?"

"Because he's untouchable."

He surprised her with his answer. With so few words that weighed so heavily, he expressed to her how much he valued that person. He showed her how much he was willing to give up for his special one. His words were vague, but there was nothing on his face that said he was trying to be coy or that he was deceiving her.

Also, she somehow understood him. The man that she called most important to her was someone she couldn't touch, as well. Their relationship was so precarious and delicate that the only way to preserve it was to give that person up. It was ripping her to pieces, but she did her best to live on for her twin sister, Elda.

They, she and this quiet red-eyed man, were the same in that sense and so she felt strong empathy for him. "Then, don't reach out too far. Don't touch what you're not allowed to touch," she advised. "Even the slightest touch can push him away."

And then, Freya bent down and kissed the man's forehead, gently, almost as how a mother would.

There was a strange finality to the click of Sakura's bedroom door. Everything had an air of anticipation of an abrupt conclusion when a tomorrow wasn't guaranteed. "Even though I might not have too much time left..."

Fai thought back to his own words. Chii had finally contacted him. He knew it would happen, but he wasn't expecting it to happen when their small family was barely hanging on by a thread. Perhaps it was Yuuko's hitsuzen, but Fai had viewed it a lot less romantically. It was the consequences of all his weaknesses, his lies, and his inherent bad luck that was consuming them; that was destroying them, just as it had destroyed his biological family.

"The princess is asleep?"

The blond glanced at the man sitting on the sofa, awake, with a cup of alcohol in his hand. "Yes. She's very tired." He began to turn around. He had planned on staying in tonight. There was no point in going out, anymore, now that Ashura-Ou was waking. The king would soon reach him, he would soon die. Somehow, that thought made Fai realize that, even if he forgot, reality did not change. What he forgets does not necessarily disappear.

Kurogane thought of questioning his fair-haired roommate as the man stood in front of their door, lost in his own world. He was at his seventh cup and there was still about eleven cups of sake left. If the night chose to wear on, he had the necessary alcohol.

"You really should stop drinking so much, Kurogane."

Fai started the conversation for them. It felt strange to Kurogane, almost nostalgic. "Excesses of any kind aren't good, mage," the ninja replied gruffly, not feeling it was necessary to point out what excesses he was talking about.

"A drunkard father and a whore mother, no wonder," Fai chuckled softly, probably not realizing that he had said the internal joke out loud. He really didn't need the other man scrutinizing him and making him feel even more vulnerable than before. Maybe he should go out, after all, even if there was no point.

Kurogane shot up to his feet. "Oi!" Now where did that come from? The magician's self-deprecating was reaching new heights. Perhaps it was time for someone to intervene. But, the slighter man dismissed him by reaching for the doorknob of the main door. "Oi, mage!" the ninja called out again as the door to their apartment closed behind the blond.

Don't reach out too far. Don't touch what you aren't allowed to touch.He reminded himself of what pressing too much resulted to. He did not want to push Fai any farther away. Let him do as he pleases. Kurogane fell back down on the sofa. He glanced at the sleeping Syaoran beside him and the Mokona in the boy's arms. "Eight of one and half a dozen."

"Are you looking for Alcyone-san?"

His single blue eye rolled down to look at the owner of the young voice that had spoken to him. The blue-haired girl in front of him stared up at him expectantly, waiting for the regular customer to make his regular purchase. "What's the point?" he murmured.

The girl looked startled and confused. Then, in an act that was characteristic of her petulant nature, she burst out, "If you don't want what we have to offer, just come right out and say it!" she yelled angrily. "And if that's so, why did you come here, anyway?"

"Because he can't get enough of me," Rafaga's rich baritone filled Fai's ears. The man stepped forward from the crowd of hookers and pimps, holding his hand out. The smaller blond watched him vacantly with his one eye, but accepted the hand with no protest or word. "See? I'll be busy all night, Umi-chan. This one's feisty."

Umi, the blue-haired girl, looked concerned, but she retreated back to the line of men and women waiting for customers.

"Just so you know, I can't pay you," Fai informed his escort in a deadpan voice.

Rafaga shrugged, "I'll settle for whatever you've got." Fai kept his eyes fixed on the road and the bulkier man easily interpreted this. "You don't have anything, do you?" He scratched the back of his head, probably calculating what money he had, then he threw his hands up. "Screw it. Let's go, anyway. Tonight's my treat."

Rafaga shifted under the covers, turning to the slighter man in his arms. He found it a bit uncharacteristic that, this time, the man did not rush to push him away and leave. He wondered if it was because the smaller blond did not have money to pay for the evening that it was going by Rafaga's terms.

At the beginning of their tryst, the one-eyed blond seemed lost in thought and uninterested, but he did not resist Rafaga's advances. Not one to take people by force, Rafaga had gone slow, checking for signs of unwillingness; but as time went on, his companion's responses became more and more involved, his emotional baggage suddenly checked at the door of their cheap motel room.

The strange blond even allowed himself to be topped.

Now that they were done, now that their usual connection had been broken, Rafaga asked himself what to do. He was so used to having sex as a service that he had forgotten how to do it in the more meaningful sense. "But, somehow, we got things in reverse," Rafaga joked to himself out loud.

The blinded man said nothing, did nothing, and kept staring blankly at the space right above the bulkier man's shoulder.

"Can I ask you something?"

These words seemed to wake him up, but even so, all the pale man did was lean his head away from Rafaga's naked form so that his expression could not be seen. Despite that, he still replied "Yes", but not without much hesitation and not after a long span of tense silence.

The prostitute sighed and gently pushed the fairer man's face back towards him. "I'm a whore, I don't even know your name, because asking questions is bad for business."

The blue eye remained evasive.

"What I know about you is what I see and feel when we're together and that's how I usually prefer it. I don't like hearing about the families that I hurt or the relationships I corrupt," Rafaga continued, trying to fill the dead air. He pulled the other man into a tighter and more protective embrace, bringing the unresisting form's ear close to his lips. "But it's time you became honest with yourself, even for a moment," he whispered, as if telling a valuable secret. And maybe he was, because shortly after he spoke those words, the body pressed against him began to tremble with quiet sobs. He never got to ask his question, forgetting it as soon as the tears began to fall from that one stormy blue eye. But, Rafaga didn't mind. Those tears, he knew, said more than any words he could pull out from the man.

As he walked the man out the door of the motel room and silently bid him farewell, Rafaga knew that he would never see him again.

Author's Notes:

I'm not sure if I ever mentioned it, but even if I write stories with sexual encounters, I've never written a full-blown lemon in my life. I don't think I ever will. This is just to inform those who are waiting for that. Sorry, it's just not something I am capable of doing. Also, I think it's against ffnet's rules, anyway.

In any case, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Reviews are welcome. Thank you to those who put this fic amongst their favorites. I don't mind flames from angry KuroFai fans, although I would prefer it if flamers kept their reviews signed, so I can address their concerns. I don't usually bite.

That said. Thanks for reading.

-paris