Author's Notes:

Well, this is the beginning of two consecutive chapters of smut. As it turns out, writing sex scenes is actually a lot like writing fight scenes (which I am notably more practiced with). Naturally, any feedback you can give me is much appreciated, and I will take it into account next time a scene like this comes up. Also, if you're reading this fic because you like me as an author and not because you're interested in this pairing, you have my permission to skip the next two chapters. I won't be mad.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The first thing Kurogane did was close the curtains.

From his perch at the edge of the bed, Syaoran watched, absorbing every detail. The ninja's stride was longer than most, able to cross the room in three paces where it would've taken Syaoran five. The curtains rustled as they closed.

Kurogane strode back to the door, shut it, and turned the lock. The sound of the gears tumbling was strangely . . . ominous. They were finally alone together, sealed off from the rest of the world. Syaoran fidgeted. "Should I . . ." He trailed off, fingers brushing over the zipper on his vest. Infinity had a strange sense of fashion, with clothes that included unnecessary zippers and multiple layers that served only as decoration. At the moment, he was wearing a white shirt with artfully tattered sleeves, covered by a simple black vest with a zipper on the front.

"No," Kurogane said, not looking at him. "I'll take care of it."

Syaoran looked at his feet, breathing slowly, deeply. This was the first time he'd ever been intimate with anyone, and while he had no experience, he didn't want to embarrass himself before it even started.

Kurogane stared at the desk for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. When he walked over to the desk and knelt to unplug the lamp, Syaoran tensed. "How are we going to—"

"I don't want you thinking about how much you hate this place. I want you to focus."

He's approaching this like a training session, Syaoran realized as Kurogane pulled the plug, shrouding the room in darkness. At once, Syaoran's heart started racing. He suddenly felt very small, very fragile. He promised, he thought, on the edge of panic. He promised it wouldn't hurt.

One breath, then another, each shakier than the last. When Kurogane's fingertips traced his cheek, he jumped. "Easy," the ninja warned, sliding his hand down Syaoran's neck. "I'm not going to bite you."

If only that was the worst of my worries, Syaoran thought, closing his eyes. There was no change in brightness, but he could sense the things around him better when he closed his eyes, just as Kurogane had taught the Other in Outo.

"Lean back," Kurogane said, his voice barely a murmur. The ninja pressed gently on his shoulder, easing him back until he lay sideways across the bed, his hair brushing the sheetrock. Kurogane guided him away from the wall so he was lying face-up along the length of the bed. "You all right?"

"I'm fine." His voice was hoarse.

Kurogane touched his cheek, finding it easily in the darkness. The bed-springs creaked as they took the ninja's weight, and the noise brought Syaoran back to where they were, what they were doing. He gasped, fingers curling around the sheets, but he managed to avoid whimpering as Kurogane pressed his lips to the base of his throat.

"Syaoran."

His body went rigid. He'd never heard Kurogane say his name aloud, but even in his dreams, he would've never imagined the tenderness there. It sounded almost hesitant, like the way one might pronounce a foreign word without any knowledge of its language. But this wasn't a clumsy attempt at learning a language, this was a name the ninja knew well.

And he said it as if every syllable was a treasure.

Syaoran lifted his arms and wrapped them around the ninja's torso. "Yes?"

"If you want me to stop, you have to tell me, all right?"

Syaoran nodded. "I understand."

"Okay." Kurogane kissed his collarbone, his hands moving to the zipper on Syaoran's vest. He unzipped it slowly, so it was the only sound in the darkness. Syaoran let out a shaky breath, but it wasn't until Kurogane pressed a hand to his sternum and pushed him into the mattress that Syaoran realized he was trembling. "It'll be better if you relax."

"I—" He bit back the apology, knowing it wasn't what the ninja wanted to hear right now. Instead, he said, "Okay."

With deft hands, Kurogane maneuvered Syaoran's arms out of the vest and bundled up the garment. It fluttered in the air when he tossed it aside, part of the zipper gliding over the cement. His undershirt went next. Kurogane had removed his own right after he'd turned the lights out, but Syaoran still wore enough clothes that, if anyone actually saw their compromising position, he'd have a decent shot at convincing them that this wasn't what it looked like.

But this is exactly what it looks like, he thought, back arching as Kurogane tugged his shirt out of the way. Syaoran lifted his arms, letting the garmet slide over his body and onto the floor. He felt one of the ninja's fingertips trace the contours of his chest until it found the darker brown stub of his nipple. Somehow, the soft touch seemed more intimate than anything Syaoran had imagined for the end of this . . . experience.

Kurogane's thumb moved back and forth over his nipple, raising hairs on his whole body. When the ninja moved his lips over that spot, Syaoran yelped in surprise. Instantly, Kurogane drew back. "Ki—Syaoran? Do you want me to stop?"

"No," he whispered, awed again by the sound of his name being spoken by that voice. "I was just . . . startled. Keep going." Please.

The ninja lowered his head again, teeth grazing the sensitive stub while his hand moved over to the other nipple. Syaoran tilted his head back, panting, and Kurogane snorted. "Doesn't take much to bring you to the edge, does it?" He flicked his thumbnail across the nipple, playfully.

A low, keening moan rose in the back of Syaoran's throat as pleasure skittered along his chest. "Please."

"Not yet." Kurogane's hands moved down his torso, over his stomach, and then to his waist. One hand moved to Syaoran's zipper, and the sudden warmth made his body writhe. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to finish this now. Yet the ninja moved slowly, torturing him as the zipper parted under his hands.

Less than a second later, his jeans were on the floor, his legs tingling from the friction, and he heard another zipper coming undone, much faster than his had.

Panic sunk its claws into Syaoran's stomach. He reached out, managing to catch one of the ninja's arms as he heard a second pair of jeans fall to the floor. "Wait," he begged.

Kurogane paused, their bodies facing one another without touching. "What?"

"Just . . . this is the first time I've ever . . ."

"I know." Kurogane kissed him on the lips.

"I don't know how to—"

"I know." Another kiss, this one at the hollow of his throat. Then another, on his chest, followed by one on his stomach. Just when he thought the ninja was merely going to torment him, Kurogane slid his underwear off his legs, leaving him completely naked.

Vulnerable.

"Ready?"

No. "Yes."

Kurogane lowered himself onto Syaoran's body. The sudden weight startled him, and he pressed his face into the ninja's bare shoulder to stifle his squeak of surprise. "Relax," Kurogane murmured, running his fingertips down Syaoran's ribcage. He shivered, forcing his body to go limp. Kurogane's hand moved lower, tracing the contours of his hips. When the ninja's fingers closed around him, his body went rigid again.

Kurogane planted a kiss on the edge of his jaw, tugging gently. Syaoran's fingernails bit into the ninja's shoulders as he struggled to stay in control of his own body. Another tug, rougher than the first, brought him close to the edge. I can't lose myself this soon, he thought. He'd read enough books to know that stamina was considered an important part of sex, particularly for men. Granted, most of the novels he'd read had involved heterosexual couples, but still.

Kurogane ran his thumb down the base of his shaft. Black dots danced in Syaoran's vision. Without a conscious command, his hips thrust upward, skin sliding against skin with a heady friction. "Kurogane-san, I think . . ."

"Let go," the ninja whispered. "Just let go." His grip shifted, and the small movement was enough to push Syaoran over the edge. A cry tore from his throat, unrestrained, as pleasure surged through his body. A hand gripped his shoulder and shoved him down onto the mattress as he gasped.

Several seconds passed before he was able to think again. When he came out of his stupor, his body felt fever-warm, and he could feel something sticky between his thighs.

Kurogane chuckled softly. Syaoran's eyes flashed open, and he was shocked to see the other man actually grinning at him. Heat rushed to his cheeks. Before he could apologize, the ninja's lips collided with his, warm and soft.

"That was quick."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"No."

"Huh?"

"Don't apologize for that." Kurogane rolled over so Syaoran was lying on top of him. Any control he'd had over his body vanished as his limbs went as limp as overcooked noodles. His cheek was resting on Kurogane's chest, close enough to hear his heartbeat, his breathing. The red-eyed man wrapped his arms around Syaoran's torso, holding him there. "We still have time."

Syaoran gulped, still trembling from the onslaught of pleasure. He was sticky and sweaty and exposed, but he also felt good. As if he'd been chained down for months and finally been freed. He couldn't remember ever feeling this good, despite the ominous assurance that they had time.

Time for what? he wondered, moving his fingertips over Kurogane's ribs the same way the ninja had for him a moment ago. He lifted his head, meeting the ninja's gaze. "What now?"

Kurogane pulled his body forward so they were face to face. Their lips brushed together. "Now?" the ninja echoed, mischief in his eyes. "Now, it's my turn."