Watanuki was right, of course. He didn't have space in his kitchen to store a twenty pound bag of rice. The bag had to be propped up against one of the counters even though it was still kind of in the way. Watanuki and Doumeki had to make sure that they watched their steps as they went to and from the kitchen lest they knock the whole bag over.

They ate their dinner late that night. Watanuki turned on the little radio as he prepared their meal and mostly ignored the other person in his apartment as he worked. Doumeki did his homework then helped set the table.

Dinner was delicious, as usual. Perhaps there was something about making all of the sauces from scratch after all.

Watanuki cleaned all of the dishes afterward, then moved on to mop the floor. Doumeki watched as after the mopping was finished the bathroom was tackled next. Watanuki was absolutely ruthless with his cleaning. There was no crevice or space left untouched when he cleaned. Even the floor smelled minty-fresh.

After a couple of hours Doumeki got up from the table and went into the small bedroom. Watanuki had a duster in hand and was cleaning the window sill on the back wall. "Kimihiro."

The shorter male's body visibly flinched. The grip on the feather duster turned his knuckles white. "I'm busy," he declared.

"Kimihiro, it's ten o'clock," Doumeki reminded him.

Those blue eyes would not look at him. "I have half an hour left, let me finish cleaning."

He sighed and walked the few paces across the room to Watanuki's side. His hands found the shorter male's shoulders and gently squeezed. "I won't hurt you."

"It's not that!" Watanuki retorted. He turned in place to face Doumeki but found he needed to back up a foot. They were so close he wouldn't have been able to look up properly. "It's just-!" He huffed and held the feather duster to his chest. "It's not fair! I want a normal life!"

Doumeki's hand glided up Watanuki's arm and to the feather duster. His fingers laced through the shorter male's and slowly, delicately extracted the item from the tight grip that was on it. He tossed the duster to the side and brought Watanuki's newly freed hand up to his face. He pressed a small kiss to the inside of the palm. "I'm sorry."

"D-Don't be an idiot. What are you apologizing for? It's not your fault."

Doumeki hugged him. "I'm sorry I'm not stronger, to keep you safe in a better way."

Watanuki sighed against his cheek. "Moron."

"Idiot," Doumeki replied affectionately. He cupped Watanuki's face and kissed him soundly.

Watanuki tried very hard to stop the way his heart thudded with a great force in his chest. He understood now the phrase 'butterflies in your stomach' because it felt like soft and delicate butterfly wings were flapping against the inside of his chest. It almost tickled.

He was only supposed to feel this way when he fell in love, and this twisted existence couldn't be love...!

The taller male's lips were warm and his breath moist as he kissed, pulled away, kissed again and repeated the process. Watanuki's hands reached around and dug into Doumeki's white school shirt. The material wrinkled quickly in his grip.

Doumeki shifted his head and pressed closer, the kiss deeper suddenly and then there was a tongue in his mouth and tasting everything and oh, the world just faded away when Doumeki kissed him like that.

His eyes were closed but he felt the buttons on his shirt open and cool evening air hit his newly exposed skin. Once the garment fell away large warm hands ran down his chest, around to his back, up his spine and pulled them flush together.

Doumeki kept his promise. He did not hurt Watanuki this time, even though he very much wanted to be inside that exquisite body. He laid Watanuki down on the futon and paid every special attention he could to the shorter male.

Above everything else, he was gentle. More gentle than Watanuki deserved, surely.

He fought to regain his breath after completion, his vision a little hazy and his body thrumming with pleasure. Doumeki flopped down on the futon next to him, his hold firm and steady as he curled around the shorter male's sprawled form.

Doumeki cupped his partner's cheek and kissed his temple. Watanuki cried.

It was small and quiet and nearly missed, but Doumeki's hearing was good and he felt the nearly imperceptible shakes as tears poured down Watanuki's face. He was sure he hadn't done anything wrong, had been gentle and caring and most certainly not selfish in his own desires because they hadn't had intercourse.

Why did he suddenly feel so awful then? "Don't cry," he whispered. He used his thumb to wipe away the tears.

"Shut up," Watanuki mumbled, his voice thick. "I don't know why I'm crying." His body shook a little more as he tried to hold back more tears. Doumeki wrapped his arm around Watanuki tightly and held him against his chest.

"I'm sorry," Doumeki said into Watanuki's neck.

"Go to sleep."

. . . . . . . .

By the dawning of the fourth day they'd finally worked out a routine that seemed to fit around school, homework and dinner. They would both wake up at six in the morning, shower (because Watanuki refused to let Doumeki touch him when the jerk still had morning breath and smelled like sweat) and have sex. By the time they were done it was usually quarter to seven, so Watanuki would grab the lunch boxes he'd assembled the previous night and they would gather their things and walk to school together.

Watanuki hadn't cried anymore during intimacy. Doumeki was always the one to initiate it but Watanuki had stopped fighting him. Neither brought up the incident, Watanuki too embarrassed to talk about it and Doumeki wary of making Watanuki upset.

The school day itself was normal, and still Watanuki insisted on eating his lunch alone during the day. The only attention he'd received was when he had to stay after for Doumeki's archery practice, because there weren't very many people in the spectator stands after school. Luckily it was only three days a week, so it didn't happen that often yet.

Doumeki had noticed the odd looks after the second practice session that Watanuki sat in on. He generally liked his teammates and didn't think any of them would cause trouble, so when one of them pointed Watanuki out to him he shrugged it off with an easy "He's doing his homework, and it's nice out. Why should I care?"

After that no one said anything. Doumeki had expected such a reaction and was happy with their response. He knew the secret would come out, as things like this didn't like being kept secret and would be found out eventually. Doumeki was hoping that when it did he could count on the archery team to help insulate Watanuki from the ridicule of bullies.

On the tenth day Doumeki was in the middle of his second period history class when he was summoned to the principal's office. He blinked in confusion when an aid held out a note to his teacher and asked for him for the rest of the class.

He felt Watanuki's deep blue eyes staring at him as he walked out of the classroom and followed the aid down the hallway.

The principal's room was as average of an office as they came. It had a wood desk with a computer monitor on it and a standard black keyboard and mouse. The hardware had a fine layer of dust on it and looked like it hadn't been used in a while.

Principal Kinomoto stepped in the door and looked at Doumeki a moment, his face in a frown. "Doumeki-kun, I must admit that I'm a bit surprised. You've been attending school like normal and you don't seem to be in ill shape, but I've just received very disturbing news from you family."

Doumeki rose an eyebrow up in question. "Oh?"

The Principal motioned his hand towards the door in a gesture of invitation. Both of Doumeki's eyebrows rose up when he saw who entered. "Grandfather."

Doumeki Haruka smiled in his normal fashion when his eyes landed on his grandson. "Shizuka-kun. Long time no see." He looked back to the principal. "Thank you for summoning him. I should like some privacy with my grandson."

"Of course," Kinomoto replied. He bowed slightly and left, closing the office's door behind him as he did.

Haruka took one of the seats in front of the desk and motioned for Doumeki to take a seat as well. He did. "I didn't realize you were back from your trip yet," Doumeki started.

Haruka knitted his fingers together and settled himself in his chair. "How could I not? Your mother called me yesterday in a fit of worry. She said that she hasn't seen or heard from you in days."

Doumeki sighed. "I didn't realize she would worry so much. She's usually very busy with her job."

"True," Haruka agreed, "but she still notices. She is my daughter, after all. Interestingly enough, you've been attending school each day. Where have you been staying?"

"I'm glad you're back early," Doumeki admitted. "I've been helping someone, and I need your help explaining it to mom."

Hakura's golden colored eyes, the very eye color that Doumeki had inherited, looked at his grandson with a grave expression. "Helping someone with the spirit realm?"

"Yeah."

Haruka unclasped his hands and rubbed his fingers along his chin. "You've not been trained yet in exorcism because your talent hasn't matured yet. It would be like trying to teach you to paint calligraphy without a hand or a brush. Your training beyond the religion and mysticism should start once you turn eighteen."

Doumeki digested that information. He hadn't known that yet. "So that's why your Sight is better than mine?"

"Exactly," Hakura confirmed. "This friend of yours, what kind of spirits have been bothering them?"

"Everything," Doumeki replied. "Everything in the spirit world."

"I know you're not one to exaggerate, Shizuka, but are you sure about everything?"

"He was attacked by a Hell Hound."

Haruka sat upright in his chair. "A high level daemon?"

Doumeki nodded.

His grandfather's face became scrutinizing. "How have you protected this person?"

The teenager closed his eyes. "The only thing that has worked is intimacy."

There was a few seconds of silence before Hakura responded. "That's the only thing? What else have you tried?"

"He bought the wards you make and sell at the shrine. They burned up after a couple of weeks. Wards from other shrines he said would only last a few days. Kimihiro said purified salt stopped working on what he calls 'bosses' years ago, but it still works on the weaker spirits, like the white hands."

"He's bothered by those, too, huh?" Haruka murmured. "How often does intimacy have to occur?"

"Every twelve hours."

"Heavens," Haruka gasped. "Where is this boy now?"

"He's in class. I've been wary to separate from him for extended periods of time. My presence has helped with certain spirits in the past."

Haruka ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair and smiled. "Fascinating."

"What?" Doumeki asked.

"A person so haunted by the spirit world they require intimacy with an exorcist. Don't be fooled, Shizuka-kun. If you saw the Hell Hound at this young an age, even for a moment, it means you're going to be a stronger exorcist than even myself once you're older. This boy's plight is grave. It is fascinating that you found him and fell in love so quickly."

"Love?" The teenager asked, clearly not drawing a connection.

Haruka chuckled. "An exorcist's kiss is worthless on a person he doesn't care for, the same with intimacy. To be attacked by a higher level daemon unprovoked means only the most powerful of seals could protect him, and only the most potent of love could ward him."

He was in love. Huh. From all of the sappy stories from movies and literature Doumeki thought it was supposed to be more... earth shattering or something, when a person realized they were in love. "Huh," was all he could say.

Haruka laughed. "Come home tonight, Shizuka, and bring this boy with you. It would be safest to keep him at the shrine."

"What about mom?"

Hakura stood up and smiled. "Don't worry. I'll take care of your mother. Bring him over immediately after school. If you have archery practice today I want you to skip it. Tell me, what have his parents said about all this?"

"He's an orphan. He's been living alone since the age of six."

The smile slipped from Haruka's face as he opened the door and Doumeki followed. "Tragic." He clasped his grandson's shoulder and squeezed gently. "What is his name?"

"Watanuki Kimihiro."

"Kimihiro," Hakura repeated. He nodded his head. "All right then. I'll see you after school, Shizuka-kun."

Watanuki wasn't going to like this one bit.