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MAKE A WISH.
( IF YOU CAN PAY THE PRICE ... )

[ For all the time he spends moving around the people who cannot see him, Kimihiro isn't sure if he gets out more, the same, or less than he used to as an errand boy himself. Distinctly, Yuuko took most of her clients from within the Shop's boundaries, but provided the difference in the agreement between himself and the Shop, this has not carried over. Indeed, many of his clients cannot come to the Shop not because they cannot see it but for other outstanding reasons. Perhaps it also has something to do with Shizuka -- his inability to See never having really been a problem because if anything it's only gotten better over time, the generosity of a shared eye when Kimihiro is especially anxious or distressed, and the bone deep intuition and practice of things when it comes to Understanding what needs to be done, sight or not.

So yes, Shizuka understands on many levels the person who is Watanuki Kimihiro and some ways are for the world to acknowledge: how he protects him, how he verifies his reality by making it true in habit and form, how he is always there. And some ways are just for them: how he says Kimihiro's name, how he plays to the pliable nature of Kimihiro's body that bends easily for him knowing he will not break, how even as Kimihiro tries to tug at his wrist to say enough or I don't need it there's no relenting. Because for each time Kimihiro claims he doesn't need something -- to be seen, to be heard, to be loved -- Shizuka doesn't let him get away with it. ]

Shi-- [ The twist of his name is explicit and loud in a way that makes Kimihiro flush deeper even now, though he has little time to pay it mind. His body is a deep arc, heels pressed against Shizuka to feel him deeper, always taken a little off guard by how almost excruciating it is; how much he wants to be like this, how much he wants Shizuka to be the one who makes him this way and the sweet aching reality of it. He loves Shizuka -- everything of him, and revels in these private aspects that belong to no one else either -- his voice and his hands like this, the bracket of his body a comfort rather than a cage.

He's shaking even as he encourages to Shizuka to keep going as he needs or wants or both, clings to him and sighs his name, whole and in pieces, over and over, one hand tangling in his hair again only to slide down to thumb warmly at the back of his neck, transparently fond. ]

[He loved this, the press of heels on his back, the way their bodies moulded together, the way Kimihiro fit around him, hot and needy, desperate as a man in need of water, suddenly arching into him, deepening their connection in a way that took Doumeki's breath away.]

Good.

[His gasp, a hair's breadth away from his partner's lips, was prayer and praise: Kimihiro was good, beautiful, endearingly overwhelmed, alive and well in his arms, and Doumeki rocked into him, pressing his forehead on Kimihiro's shoulder when the coil of pleasure within him snapped and he grunted his release.

Kimihiro calling his name was still an echo lingering in his ears when he came to himself, shifting to the side so he wouldn't crush the man when he sank into the bed facing him, still half-covering the other.]

...mmn. [He blinked slowly, still catching his breath. His arms and hips would ache, and in a while he'd have to wipe both of them down before carrying his partner to the bath because he still could, but first -] Kimihiro.

[How are you feeling, he meant to ask.]

[ There's a certain level of undone that Kimihiro finds himself in each time, a way that hasn't anything to do with the literal disrobing though it feels always as if he's been as stripped bare and raw as anyone can be, like he's simultaneously almost nothing and definitively everything. Shizuka tells him good and it takes both of them a while to come down enough to themselves, Kimihiro a grasping loving cacophony of hands and hips and soft heated sounds that borders on something almost panicked -- like he's never not afraid in some deep quiet part of him that this isn't real. But it's not panic, not really; more so urgency, that every second be mutually experienced. He wants the deep groan of Shizuka's voice in his mouth or the skin of his throat, he wants the framing of his body over him as he blinks and lets him come back into the soft half focus he possesses these days. He wants: to card his fingers back through Shizuka's hair, to trail those fingertips down his jaw almost coy despite the blush he still wears patently deep and self conscious, to touch his mouth without quite pressing, to answer Shizuka by leaning up to kiss him soft and honest. ]

I'm...I'm good. [ A shorter touch of his lips to the corner of Shizuka's mouth and then he has to fall back against the bed, a very light shaking something he's not sure he's doing or just feeling under his skin the way he does sometimes afterward, tingling and still fading heat like even his body is loathe to lose how Shizuka makes him feel. It's a thought that has him turning his face half into the bedding. There's really no point feeling self conscious anymore but one doesn't always have a choice; especially if one is Kimihiro who can't hide how he feels even if he were to bury his face entirely in the sheets -- a thing he does not do, thankfully, instead saying, quiet and still breathy, ]

You?

Good.

[He'd tuck Kimihiro's head under his chin while they recovered, nuzzling the top in return for the kiss. In his arms, he could feel the rise and fall of Kimihiro's chest, the tickle of breath against his throat: if his partner must hide his face, he was welcome to do so on Doumeki's chest.

Here was a secret that Kimihiro might've noticed in their years together: most of the time, Doumeki waited long after the sweat on their bodies cooled, or until a certain someone began prodding him to get up. There was a lot to be relished in their sated contentedness, and he enjoyed just holding Kimihiro and breathing in his scent.]

[ It takes a while to cool down, for Kimihiro's body ordinarily a default resting calm once torqued into a frenzy something like a wildfire that needs both time and quiet. So they lay like that for a longer while than perhaps most would, and even past that. It's not lost on Kimihiro that Shizuka never hurries to the parts that come next even though he always makes sure to see them through. Close as they are, when Kimihiro blinks, his eyelashes drag against the skin of Shizuka's neck, and it's easy to kiss him on his throat sweetly just once, nosing there a little not unlike how Shizuka nuzzled his hair earlier, breathing him in.

He doesn't know how long it is when he reaches that point wherein he nips briefly at Shizuka's pulse point, a milder nudge than others he could offer, pleased to be in his arms but thinking they need to clean -- themselves and the rest, his blush creeping to his ears. ]

[Much like Doumeki enjoyed leaving marks on Kimihiro's neck, he liked the contrast of Kimihiro's soft lips and sharp teeth on his skin.]

Hn.

[Without complaint, he kicked off the pants still clinging to his calves and, with a kiss to Kimihiro's temple, proceeded to stand up and scoop up his partner, carrying him past the threshold of their bathroom with the gravitas of a groom carrying his bride after their wedding. Flustering his partner with gestures like this was one of the highlights of his day, as was the time he could ease Kimihiro down when they reached the shower, keeping an arm wrapped around his waist to hold him up.]

Can you stand?

Wh- this isn't necessary...Shizuka --!!!!![ No matter how long they're like this, just like how Kimihiro hides his face and tries -- without success -- to be quiet when they are together so close and impossibly warm it's a wonder he has the mind to be embarrassed, he also has the mind to be indignant. But Kimihiro is full of 'I don't needs' and 'This isn't necessarys' and 'Stop that right nows', most of which these days hold no water; but he's a contradiction of sorts because neither are these moments of being flustered and generally rendered more dumbfounded than he normally is, fake. They are genuine reactions, and echoes indeed of a more carefree time when he existed to more than a handful of entities. Maybe it's that thing -- the mind may forget but the body remembers, so the words and gestures come freely and naturally.

Once in the bathroom, he relents, a huffy sigh that's also rather Kimihiro -- his tendency to pout unparalleled though only Shizuka sees it much anymore; Kimihiro the person and not Watanuki the Shopkeep -- and the blush that creeps into his cheeks and his ears, flushes his throat, is as telling as the words he mumbles with eyes downcast. ]

Probably...I think. Though we both know whose fault it is if I can't, so--

[ Pink is really more red now; but he pretends he isn't, just trails off and tests his full weight on his feet without leaning on Shizuka only to wince slightly, biting his tongue on a soft sound of discomfort, one pale hand as at home these days holding a smoking pipe as anything, curling suddenly on Shizuka's arm to steady himself. He doesn't mean to hold him that hard and lets go almost immediately, apologetic in spite of his attitude just seconds before.

His legs are shaky. But probably he's okay. Maybe. This time he braces a hand flat against the shower wall instead.

It's unconscious, how Kimihiro's old bad habits resurface in tiny ways: not wanting to over-depend or over-need. Even when he himself knows in his more aware moments that being trusted enough to be depended on or needed in quiet things like this is actually the better kindness. ]

[Necessity was irrelevant when it came to being demonstrative. He hid a smirk when he kissed the shell of Kimihiro's ear and squeezed the slender thigh in his grasp: even if his expression wasn't visible, those two gestures alone would've betrayed his amusement.

That lasted until they got to the shower and Kimihiro began to pull away, trying to take on matters into his own hands again.

Doumeki exhaled, steeling his patience, mindful enough to not sour the mood, and placed a broad hand on the small of Kimihiro's back as he stood close: a reminder to let him share in the responsibility, just as Kimihiro accused him of this being his fault - an undeniably true thing.

It wasn't that Doumeki didn't understand the need for self-reliance: both he and Kimihiro were similar in having an independent, sometimes rebellious streak that led them to butt heads when they were younger. And because of that, he could see where that tendency interacted terribly with Kimihiro's self-esteem, blurring the lines between standing on one's own feet and isolation, forgetting that asking for help was equally permissible and didn't diminish that.

So it was that Doumeki reminded him with the coaxing rub of his fingers, his readiness to catch Kimihiro if he slipped. This, too, tested him: pulling his partner back into his arms was his first instinct, and Doumeki had to learn over the years that such protectiveness had its time and place, lest he risk smothering Kimihiro.]

[ To his annoyance, Kimihiro does in fact slip, both warmed and frustrated by Shizuka being there to catch him with such ease. But the frustration seeps out of him as he breathes, keenly aware of the clean smell of soap and other products in the bathroom, as well as Shizuka's scent, as well as his own which makes him blush again and it's like some kind of chronic curse -- his inability to hide because his complexion gives him away. But with this person at least, he supposes, it's fine. Because isn't that what he choose years ago? Isn't that why he let Shizuka bring him here to a place that has become home?

Leaning back against him, Kimihiro's eyes shut briefly. Then, still braced by Shizuka, he does reach one hand out to start the water running, both of them just shy of the spray. It gets warm quite fast and as steam starts to rise around them it's relaxing even though Kimihiro knows he doesn't do well in the heat for too long. Initially, it's nice.

Sometimes it still feels unreal, like one day Kimihiro will wake up in the Shop without him, and it will all have been his choice and so he will have no room to complain or feel sadness.

It scares him.

But for every day that that doesn't happen, he's silently grateful and the ways in which Shizuka lets him know that he is there help him place himself when he loses track.

Brow furrowing, he realizes as he tries to put weight on his feet again with a more muted hiss for the pain in his hips and well, everywhere, that he'll need more help than he wants to ask for, but it's a cardinal difference these days and nights: how this Kimihiro, though he's still bad in some ways at asking, will accept what Shizuka chooses to give him, open hearted. ]

[There were two things Doumeki regretted about this situation.

First, that he brought them to the shower. The tub would've been easier on Kimihiro, but neither did he want to have him sit in the tub while getting the water temperature right.

Second, that he asked Kimihiro to stand in the first place. It was irrational to carry his partner to the shower, he knew, when the space was cramped and the floor would be slippery as soon as the water started running, but he couldn't help but prefer avoiding putting Kimihiro in pain.

Then, a third: had he been too rough?

Unease stirred in his gut as his arm slid to Kimihiro's waist, a silent invitation to be leant upon, and with his free hand he tucked a lock of hair behind his partner's ear.]

You okay?

I'm fine. [ He pauses, reconsiders his words. ] I was more tired than I realized, I think. [ It's true though not the whole truth. Kimihiro doesn't think anything they did was too much even if he can sense that Shizuka is wondering. He doesn't know how to say that without becoming red and needing to just...go into another room. Yes, even years and years together doesn't change certain things about him and certain things. He kind of dislikes it in himself if he's honest, the degree to which he still gets embarrassed or shy; by all rights he should have outgrown it ages ago. But here he is, not using all his words, trying to reassure without being too direct. He is more tired than he thought he was, and it comes of the nature of his job even if sometimes he doesn't feel it until rather after the fact -- hours or even a whole day past a wish granted or a spell enacted, a kekkai reinforced, what-have-you. He's powerful, there's no way he isn't because the Shopkeep must be. But he's also not Yuuko even if, at the beginning, he took on her role so deeply it blinded him into mistakes repeatedly.

These days at least he knows who he is and that he is real.

He might have, he thinks, overdone it the day before -- any weakness left behind from his work always consequentially found in the human limitations of his body. Sometimes he gets sick, and the first time it happened he'd been confused. Had he ever seen Yuuko-san sick? But then, he supposed, she was a different being than he is.

A butterfly dreaming.

Well, at least he's not sick; just tired; and if his body is only choosing now to tell him, that's poor timing but nothing to be done about it.

Sighing, he lifts a hand to Shizuka's face and curls it at the corner of his jaw, fingertips pressing as he draws him down for a kiss.

Then he steps into the now warm-enough shower and doesn't stumble, managing to press his hand to the wall without slipping and bow his head under the water. Rather than warm-enough, it's hot, and his muscles relax, even as he considers how nice it will be to just rinse off thoroughly, and then sit in the bath; though he might fall asleep. But it wouldn't be the first time ]

[It was a kiss Doumeki gave himself to, pressing his cheek on Kimihiro's soft palm, and while he kept his hand on his partner's hip, the reassurance was enough to alleviate some of his concern.

This wasn't the first time Kimihiro's energies took a turn once they got home, and Doumeki surmised that a customer had wandered over sometime during the day. Earlier, he hadn't seen any injuries on Kimihiro, but if there was still some form of backlash...

He kissed Kimihiro's nape, tasting water, and reached for the shampoo.]

You had work earlier.

[Doumeki had observed over time how Kimihiro struggled to learn the intricacies of balancing wishes and prices. In those early days, his anger flashed hot and blended into frustration and worry when wounds cut themselves into Kimihiro's skin, and there was nothing he could do but patch him up and let him rest. There would always be challenges in balancing the scales with how unreasonable people could be.

The Shop would ever be a sore point for Doumeki. However, as long as Kimihiro didn't push himself recklessly and endanger himself, he could appreciate how much his partner had improved in taking care of himself.

With one hand, he thumbed open the bottle lid, poured a dollop over the back of Kimihiro's head, passed the bottle, and began lathing the shampoo, massaging the scalp with his fingers. Why yes, he was doing this with only one hand because he refused to part his other palm from Kimihiro's hip, and there was little that could dissuade him.]

Mm.

[ It's a pleased hum of an intonation for the touch of Shizuka's mouth to his nape and doubles as a response as if to say without saying: yes I did. If he was less tired he might jab at him that he's not the only employed body in this household, but as it is, he's content to let Shizuka take care of him, which perhaps speaks to precisely how tired he is more than his words do. Indeed, he almost dozes while Shizuka presses expert fingertips in a way that relieves tension Kimihiro has gotten too good at ignoring over time -- the so-called minor discomforts he doesn't think are worth calling attention to. But it feels nice, how Shizuka touches him like this or like earlier or like sometimes if he finds Kimihiro in his school's library, asleep, the isolated drop of a kiss to his crown.

Near the beginning, Kimihiro disliked this about himself, judged himself pathetically touch-starved and his natural tendency not to ask for help was compounded by his sudden outright refusal to do so in more regards than the usual.

If he's honest, he doesn't, he thinks, deserve Shizuka, and it almost makes him laugh to think how his younger self would have reacted to such a statement: vehement denial, insults, questionable twirling.

But even if he doesn't deserve him, he does need him.

And he loves him.

Though he knows that's not its own excuse for keeping him.

Sometimes, if he's having a particularly bad day or has had an especially troubled client, he's reminded of the woman who came to him about Shizuka and those days he avoids Shizuka even if he knows it's cowardly; even if they've long since made their choices. Guilt became such a natural part of who Kimihiro was for the first portion of his life, even with all his endeavors to step forward, it cannot be wholly negated; not even Shizuka's own obvious feelings on the matter undo it. Which doesn't make sense; Shizuka's feelings out of all of theirs matter the most between the three individuals; but Kimihiro on those bad days thinks Shizuka could have had a better life without him.

Maybe the main thing in him that's changed is that eventually he does come around, he hovers outside of Shizuka's classroom or brings him tea at the table, or just sits down next to him without a word.

What could have been is what could have been but what is, is.

His hand covers the one Shizuka keeps carefully curled on his hip. ]

It was a house call, as...as he could not leave that place.

[ He offers more information about the client after all, but his words are a little rounded, clumsy the way language becomes when one is only half-awake. ]

Hn.

[A syllable, to show he was listening and urging Kimihiro to continue.

Doumeki didn't mind that those words were half-mumbled, if it meant his massage was working.

So he continued, between telling Kimihiro to close his eyes as he rinsed off the shampoo, to picking up the soap and gently scrubbing him down to his thighs, at least - he'd leave anything that required a change of position later. So he scrubbed, pressed his fingers on the knots on Kimihiro's shoulders and back, enough to relax him - the rest, he could save for when they wound down in bed.

That this client was restrained to one location was concerning, when it meant Kimihiro might recall how he himself nearly ended up in a similar situation. If Doumeki kissed his partner's pulse once the soap was washed off, well. He couldn't be faulted for expressing his love and relief that Kimihiro had listened and stayed that day.

Guilt might be something Kimihiro dealt with, and as a private individual himself, Doumeki could understand the need for space: to him, those were not shows of cowardice, but something that pointed to a need to work things out. He'd be there once Kimihiro recovered, or to pull back his partner when that moodiness dragged out for too long: often with a reassuring embrace, a kiss, and a pot of tea, for some moods weren't meant to be dealt with whilst inebriated.]

Edited 2020-05-26 15:47 (UTC)

[ With how Shizuka works the remaining tension out of him, Kimihiro finds it amusing how he's both kept awake by how nice it feels and also lulled to near sleep by how nice it feels, somehow twofold. The soft sighs and sounds that thieve out of him are mostly lost under the sound of the shower itself because they're very quiet, but then again it's possible Shizuka knows even Kimihiro's quietness so intimately he hears them all anyway.

It's not until Shizuka finishes rinsing him off that Kimihiro replies, quiet but warm toned. ]

In any case, I think I will be quite busy soon.

[ Sometimes he does this, doesn't elaborate on what he's done that day but how life will be for the next few days or next week or moon. It's not, technically, an outright evasion. He doesn't see the need to detail to Shizuka the nature of his client today -- the matter of the fact being that the spirit of the empty well wanted to remain trapped because it had promised a long time ago to be there. Kimihiro had asked if there wasn't any other way that the spirit could wait, without making this wish because it felt like a punishment paid for rather than a fulfillment. But he knew even as he asked, the reasoning behind it -- how without the spirit's attachment, the well itself would lack protection and, like so many things in this new age, be destroyed and written over.

So Kimihiro had exacted the price.

He thinks, now, spacing out without meaning to, the shower's steam making things a little fuzzy, that he never understood the weight on Yuuko's shoulders at all; and it's no point perhaps, worrying about how he might not have done enough for her, how he certainly should have done more. But the client today did remind him of her and of himself as he took the spirit's memories, kissed the not-quite human but almost-human looking entity on the forehead and told him that he thought he was very brave, because that was all he could do for him beyond the granting of his wish, all he could say; old words came back easily sometimes: the only things that can be given without a price to be paid are one's own feelings..

His words actually spoken, do hold significance; the festival mentioned earlier also twines in with the subject of Kimihiro's 'busy' as well as his absences yet to come. It's the mild kind of warning Kimihiro has disciplined himself into giving his partner when he knows there may be nights he doesn't return or returns so late that it's morning of the next day. Because even if they've both grown familiar beyond belief with each other's tells and patterns, there's something to be said for the mindfulness of not taking any of it for granted.

'Busy' might be an understatement.

Though he'll still insist on cooking. Shizuka couldn't pry that task from him with all the wishing in the world but Kimihiro suspects he wouldn't want to anyway -- would only try due to regard for Kimihiro's need for rest, and then predictably be beat back to a chair or out of the kitchen entirely with whatever Kimihiro could grab first: a dish towel, a rolling pin, a bottle of sake that he wouldn't let him have unless he got out, so on and so forth.

Turning so he can face Shizuka properly, legs slightly shaky at this point, he reaches up to push his hair back anyway, smiling at how severe it looks -- not quite right at all, honestly. He doesn't ask as he reaches for the shampoo and likewise works it back through Shizuka's hair, uses both of his hands to massage along his scalp. ]

Unnecessarily tall aren't you.

[ There's no bite in it whatsoever as Kimihiro finishes and nudges him under the shower head where he rinses carefully and thoroughly. Then he pauses, both of them standing just shy of the spray, and rests his head against where he can feel Shizuka's heart.

How lucky I ended up being, he thinks, and never forgets. ]

Edited 2020-05-26 16:58 (UTC)

[He nodded in acceptance and tucked away his disappointment. Some weeks were like this, thanks to festivals and other events, or the domino effect of someone else's choice. Doumeki knew better than to ask most of the time, when information had a price.

When the time came, he'd kiss Kimihiro and bid him to return soon, whenever his business concluded. Doumeki's move to stay awake or, if Kimihiro arrived past dawn, interrupt his own sleep was his own choice.

When Kimihiro turned to face him, he slid his other arm around Kimihiro's waist, linking his fingers on the slender dip of his partner's back to support him, and tip his head forward. The accusation was an old one, and he merely grunted in acknowledgment.]

All the better to reach the shelves with.

[And to carry Kimihiro, but that, he'd point out in the morning.

Kissing the top of his partner's head took precedence anyway, Kimihiro's cheek warm over his chest. Right now, Douemki's heartbeat was steady, with how he was content to hold him.

Once they were done cleaning up, Doumeki would wrap Kimihiro with a towel and guide him out of the shower. Carrying him back to bed was hardly a problem once he dried off his own feet, though he'd have to return to retrieve his own towel and their sleeping clothes.]

As you should, [ He replies with no small amount of dignity however sleepy he is, now so relaxed he thinks he could fall asleep standing up, except of course Shizuka won't let that happen, Shizuka who is kinder to Kimihiro even now than Kimihiro will ever be to himself even in easy gentle moments. Is it thankless? Kimihiro hopes not, hopes in his own way he's been able to convey and communicate his love for Shizuka because it's very much true, and it extends to his appreciation of all the ways Shizuka has made space and change in his life for Kimihiro to keep existing to more than just himself.

As he lets him gently down onto the bed, Kimihiro is sorely tempted to just curl up like that, towel and all, but he stays upright, ankles absently crossed, legs extended out lightly in front of him as he teeters at the edge of sleep rather like how he sits on the edge of the bedding, this portion of which still smells mostly of lavender -- something new he'd washed it with last time.

While Shizuka goes to re-collect his own towel and the clothes, Kimihiro gets up gingerly to tug the bedding off and replace it with clean alternates he procures from the closet. It bothers him a little to have the swathe of laundry in the corner but his knees feel ready to buckle, so he just focuses on making the new bed, a little, clumsily for how sluggish he is but at least it's clean. ]

[He didn't run a hand over his face at the sight that he returned to, but it was a very near thing.

Fresh bed sheets were far from objectionable. The obvious lack of coordination in Kimihiro's movements were, on the other hand, cause for concern, and he slipped a small towel he'd used to dry his hair across his shoulders before crossing the room then, gently clasping Kimihiro's wrist, handed out a second set of sleeping clothes.]

Here.

[Let him take over doing the bed and the pillows, and he'd carry their laundry to the hamper. By the time Kimihiro was done dressing up, they'd be able to lay in bed.

Doumeki had already donned his own sleeping yukata before stepping out of the bathroom.]

[ The degree to which Shizuka makes him feel cared for is sometimes overwhelming. Kimihiro has never been able to discern how much of this was already there before certain choices were made; he spent so much time avoiding his own feelings afraid of what he'd find: mistakes, regrets, the inability to follow through on his promises. But he does remember he had the sense that if he had to put an answer to it, when Shizuka kissed him for the first time, it was something like oh it is real -- so not so much an amount of time of existence but rather a realization something had been there at all and not just on Shizuka's side.

He murmurs a soft 'thanks' even as he moves himself out of the way changes into the sleeping clothes and finds himself mid-yawn before he realizes he is yawning and wincing when there's a slight cracking sound. When this kind of unnatural tiredness upends itself on him, it's all Kimihiro can do to keep his eyes open and it doesn't tend to matter where he is; when he was newer to the post, he'd found himself waking up in a number of strange places. So it's lucky at least that he's here, in their home, in their room, and if it's Shizuka's presence in part that lulls him so, he's exhausted enough not to pretend it isn't, head dropping forward then jerking up again as he blinks and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms. ]

[Taking over was a quick affair, and Doumeki smoothed his hands over and tucked the sheets with neat efficiency. Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see Kimihiro, drowsy, keeping himself up like a kid forcing himself to stay awake past his bedtime.

Doumeki let out a breath. Still, he couldn't deny it was cute.

The last thing he spread on the bed was their blanket, and he peeled one corner open before guiding Kimihiro down, tucking him in under the blankets with a kiss to the forehead.]

There.

[He'd join his partner under the sheets, too, once he got to his side of the bed, tucking Kimihiro's head under his chin and securely wrapping his arm around the other's slender waist. Sleep might come to him a little later than usual, now that he knew Kimihiro would be busy soon, but the rise and fall of his partner's chest was soothing, like gentle waves on the shore.]

[ Kimihiro likes this -- loves this: the feeling of Shizuka safe under the sheets with him. It's a very specific feeling, given the history of Shizuka who protects Kimihiro within all his power to do so; Kimihiro has, he feels, not done a good job returning the favor; indeed, Shizuka is always the one with his protection around him. And it's odd in some ways; Kimihiro is very powerful these days, and the wounds he incurs are unavoidable even with the best of personal guards -- wish granting peril is not quite the same as errand running though sometimes when Kimihiro finds himself unable to return home, chained to the Shop in order to recover, he thinks about the latter fondly. He doesn't believe he knew he liked Shizuka until he was sure it was too late; it took a woman coming to him with Shizuka's name on her lips of possession that brought him round to it. And even then he'd been ready to let it lie silent in his pulse for however long he had -- too long.

But perhaps, in this way, the inevitable has had mercy.

Because Kimihiro may feel he does not deserve Shizuka --even if he never says it -- and he may feel sometimes that Shizuka would be better off without him -- even if he never says that either -- but in the end it is not what he wants.

Not at all.

It's not what Shizuka wants either, based on, well, everything.

Kimihiro fits against him in that private secret completeness that some people who love each other do, aware of Shizuka's arms and his legs, the whole of his body that draws him back and lets Kimihiro fall asleep -- a soft sigh of something that was supposed to be 'good night' but doesn't quite make it there -- coherent of his exhales on the back of his neck, of his hands held lightly in his own hands against his chest where his own heartbeat makes the most human effort of all: to live.

It's different than simply existing, and Kimihiro knows that better now more than anyone. ]

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