He was there again. 

There was no sound.  Just a lingering presence beyond the closed door.  The last vestige of denial, and a constant reminder that really, really this shouldn’t be happening. 

Except it always did.  It was almost becoming a routine.  Habit.  Second nature.  Not odd at all, really, to have another man stand outside your bedroom door and listen to you.  Doing things. 

Except it wasn’t, was it.  It was several kingdoms and a rather large desert away from normal, really.  At least, it was to Kurogane.  Fai, the Ninja reflected, probably did this kind of thing all the time.  In whatever screwed up cold place the stupid wizard had come from it was probably a national spectator sport.  That’s what Kurogane told himself anyway.  And he would have believed it, but for Fai’s eyes and the way they looked at him those mornings when they were alone.  Amusement, lust and vague distance, all directed at him.  Ignoring it was easier. 

So here Kurogane was.  More or less comfortable in his denial.  That Fai could be his.  That Fai was not as crazy as he seemed, and yet far more insane.  And that Fai was standing outside his door.  Again.  

He would make him wait.  Take his time.  And, Kurogane reminded himself quickly, it had nothing to do with increasing the anticipation.  Of listening to Fai waiting silently just beyond his reach.  Of thinking about that slight body under his hands or that yellow hair of his brushing skin.  He wasn’t thinking that at all.  He was making Fai wait.  In a bad way.  Really.

Kurogane stood up from the bed and went over to the window.  Check the locks.  Pull the thick curtains tightly closed.  Not exciting at all.  Think about washing dishes, reading history books, tying your shoelaces, ice cold showers, pink umbrellas, sharpening swords, warm beds, soft skin and this really didn’t seem to be working anymore.

It was too little, too late, Kurogane reflected.  But he was still determined to draw this out.  And maybe he could even not go through with this at all.  Whatever this was.  Maybe he would just get into bed and enjoy a long night of sleeping and snoring and maybe even dribbling on his pillow a bit for added effect.  See what the mage thought about that. 

But that was what he told himself every night they were like this, and every night ended the same way.

He tore off layers of damp clothes, not his clothes, and threw them to the floor.  Not his clothes, he thought again and for a moment imagined Fai’s clothes laying there with his.

Denial, remember, Kurogane reminded himself and set about brushing his teeth, angry at the world and Fai’s damn clothes and the toothbrush and that annoying squeaky faucet that had Fai stirring outside.

Anticipation, Kurogane thought and then there was a shift in mood from beyond that door and Kurogane could swear he could just hear Fai telling him to hurry it up. 

“But Kuro-rin,” the mage would say.  “It’s so cold out here and I have other people to annoy, you know.”  And Kurogane decided then and there his hair needed a trim.  He crossed the room again, straightening in defiance as he passed the door, and slowly sat down on the bed.  There, he stretched and heard muscles popping and wizards fidgeting and smiled to himself victoriously.

Kurogane had to wonder if he was enjoying this too much.  He stretched again and then remembered he was looking for some scissors.

“In the bedside table,” he remembered Fai saying and why exactly did Fai know there were scissors in his bedroom anyway?  Kurogane looked down at it.

The table was old and battered and grimy like everything else in that world, and oh-so-very resistant when he tried to wrench its one tiny drawer open.  One particularly vicious assault later and the drawer handle separated from its drawer with an ominous snap. 

There was a muffled cough from beyond the door and Kurogane looked up, surprised at the noise.  Perhaps tonight would be different after all.  And all it had taken was a broken drawer.

Kurogane sat for a moment, considering all the possible meanings of a cough from a deranged wizard.  Fai was asking to come in?  Fai wanted to know what the snap was about and was really hoping it wasn’t any body parts?  Fai knew what happened and was laughing?  Fai had a cold from standing in cold corridors for hours on end almost every night?

Kurogane frowned and set the handle down silently on the ancient nightstand.

“Oi,” he called, loudly, confidently, and not expecting an answer. 

Silence.  Silence for this world anyway, which meant grinding machines and noisy people outside and the constant buzz of electricity.

Fai had made a sound and Kurogane wasn’t about to let him get away with it.

“Oi,” he called again, more forcefully this time and all angry for no reason.  There was quiet shifting then and a sigh.

“You’re not supposed to know I’m here, Kuro-chi,” Fai reminded him, but there was teasing in his voice.

Kurogane snorted.

“You were the one being noisy,” he retorted, folding his arms and studiously not looking at the door.  Fai said nothing for so long that Kurogane began to wonder if the idiot mage had left.  Then, there was a shuffing of fabric and Kurogane could imagine one pale hand placed lightly against the door.

“I was,” Fai agreed, more soberly than before but the lightly amused taint was still there.

Denial, Kurogane remembered again, but couldn’t bring himself to tell Fai to go away. 

“You’ll catch a cold, standing out there,” he said instead, sounding as gruff and uncaring as he felt.  Really.  He was talking to Fai here, after all.

A gentle laugh in reply.

“I always knew you cared, Kuro-tan.”

More silence, which was really starting to irritate Kurogane.  Not worry.  Never worry.  Irritate.  Definitely.  Or maybe the mage was just waiting for his denial.  Maybe Fai was waiting for him to yell and tell him to go away.  Well, he wasn’t going to.  Kurogane wasn’t going to give the idiot that satisfaction.  He was going to sit here in uncomfortable silence until the mage said something.  

Fai coughed again, and Kurogane took that as a question.

“I told you to not stand out there, idiot,” he replied.  Momentary hesitation then the door knob turned and Kurogane hoped for a moment it would come off like the drawer handle and Fai wouldn’t be able to come in because, really, what was he going to do with him when he was standing there.  In front of him.  All while magic and tight clothes and soft face that Kurogane just knew was going to be the death of him one day. 

“Err…” Fai pushed the door open slowly, as though he thought Kurogane might attack him.  Which, Kurogane allowed, was still certainly an option.  Stupid mage and his stupid craziness.  Kurogane paused, turned to look at Fai closing the door behind him now but backed up against it and still holding onto the door handle.  His face was blank, but his eyes read uncertainty.  Stupid eyes.  Stupid looks.  Stupid mouth.  And Kurogane couldn’t help but remember there was a dark dark alley in a dark dark part of town not so long ago in which Kurogane had become very well acquainted with said lips.

He dreamt about it sometimes.

Stupid subconscious.

“Err…” Fai said again, his eyes running over the room as though he’d never seen it before.  Kurogane watched him, eyes and face moving and long gangly arm behind him holding onto the door.  And clothes.  Black and stretched and uncomfortable looking in that thick, muggy night.  They were both waiting, Kurogane realised then, to see what the other would do.

Kiss, was the first thought that came to mind, followed swiftly by touch and lick and strip and ran into territory that would have the kids blushing themselves to death.

“Well?” Kurogane snapped, perhaps more at his own vivid imagination than at Fai.  And Fai smiled at him.

“You invited me in here, Kuro-mi.”

He shifted, hand finally releasing the door and falling to hang at his side, then mischievousness erupted on his face.

“I’m all yours,” he smiled sweetly, and looked Kurogane in the eye.  More challenges, and it wasn’t even dark this time.  This time.  Suggesting there had been another.  Which there had.  And Kurogane got the distinct impression he was fighting a losing battle against that denial thing.  Why deny it anyway?  It was all one-upmanship, no pun intended, and even if it really wasn’t, Fai wanted him.  Kurogane could see it in his eyes, the way he walked in front of him, leaned over him, licked his lips and kissed him.  His lips on his lips and Kurogane wanted more of it.

With a loud squeak and a crunch of the bed Kurogane stood up and turned to Fai.

“Why were you outside my door?” Kurogane asked.  A mute point, perhaps, but Kurogane asked anyway.  Fai gave him a strange look, as though Kurogane had just asked something so ridiculously obvious he couldn’t decide if it was a joke or not.  Except for the fact that Kurogane did not joke.

“You never said I could…”  Fai trailed off and went back to studying the wallpaper with great and irritating interest.  Seemingly, that was supposed to answer his question.  And not for the first time Kurogane grit his teeth and wondered if Fai would ever just give him a damned straight answer.  Well yes, Kurogane reminded himself, He would.  If you asked the wrong question. 

“Watch?” he asked then, a smirk on his lips and his feet taking him slowly towards the door.  Towards the mage, who shrugged and smiled pointlessly but watched him approach with vague interest and a tilt of the head.  And it was then that it struck Kurogane, not very hard, but struck nonetheless, that Fai was trying that denial trick too.  He should know. 

And Fai’s hands were still hung loosely at his side when Kurogane stopped inches away and they were so close then that they should have been able to smell each other, but for the heavy air and the sweat and the clothes that weren’t theirs and the old bedroom oozing oldness and lived-in-ness.  Fai blinked, and Kurogane could see he was looking at his lips.

But this was different.  This was them, getting involved like neither of them wanted.  It was easy in the dark, with a bellyful of bad booze and a couple of days of no sleep behind you.  It was easy to ignore that.  But this was them, in the over-brightness of electricity, sober for real and not pretend, invited and expected and knowing and there was a bed in the room and Kurogane was only wearing his underwear and Fai’s skin was ice cold when he reached out an arm and laid it on the wizard’s neck.  It seemed then that warming Fai’s skin was the most important thing in the world, so Kurogane leaned down, pressed his face to the cool skin below Fai’s ear and kissed him there.  And licked him there and for a moment Fai just stood there, undecided, before Kurogane felt a cold hand on his spine and another in his hair. 

He pressed forward harder, trapping Fai between himself and the door just as he had in that alley but now he could see where his hands might be going and just what he might be about to do and just who he was about to do it with. 

“No watching,” he breathed into Fai’s ear, and enjoyed the shiver it sent through that body pressed to his and the tightening of that grip on his hair.  He’d deny it all later, but now and here he had Fai.

Kurogane let his hands find the hem of Fai’s top and sent them creeping under it, warmer skin underneath, thin and soft and Kurogane felt Fai’s pulse beating faster against his lips at Fai’s throat.  He got cold fingers trailing down his back and warm chest pushing into his hands in reply.

“This is…” Fai tried to argue, but a well-placed knee and the wonder of friction shut him up, got him choking back a moan and got those hands to wander ever lower.

Suddenly the room felt hotter.  Much hotter.  And Fai felt too far away even though he was right there, held firm by Kurogane’s weight and inquisitive hands, so Kurogane slid his tongue up Fai’s neck until he felt his mouth.  Fai’s lips were open, all hot breath and smoothness.  It was easy for Kurogane to kiss them, and even easier for his tongue to find Fai’s and challenge it to a battle of wills.

It was then that Fai’s cold, distracted hands found purpose and took to their task with focus and dedication, finding their way into Kurogane’s pants in record time. 

“It’s not a race…” Kurogane ground out between hard-earned breaths as Fai’s had slid over him far more skilfully than Kurogane thought it right for someone to have.  Fai just smiled back at him all innocence and puppies, and Kurogane wanted nothing more then than to wipe that stupid grin off the idiot’s face, so he pushed his mouth back against those insane lips and wrapped his arms around Fai so tightly he hoped the other man couldn’t breathe.  Like he couldn’t.  Right now.  With things going on in his trousers he would absolutely never admit to happening.  Or even thinking about happening.  Except there they were.  Happening.  And even with his mind somewhere involving lubricating liquids and tangled bed sheets, he could feel his leg moving between Fai’s thighs and he could feel heat rising now from the skin of Fai’s back beneath his fingers, and it seemed it was a race after all, because Fai was working him with almost frenzied urgency and he couldn’t deny that he wasn’t behaving much better.

And damn if this wasn’t chaffing, but at least his mouth wasn’t dry and Fai’s hands weren’t cold anymore and no corridors or alleyways were involved.  And, without a doubt, he couldn’t last much longer and by the breathy sounds and heat coming from Fai he wouldn’t either.  So Kurogane plunged deeper, tasting all of Fai because who knew if this was going to be the last time, or the first time, or a time that they both deny and therefore was not actually a time at all.  Fai was doing the same and more as one hand left his cock and found his arse, grabbing it in a ridiculously teenage gesture of possession.  It made Kurogane laugh and open his eyes to see Fai looking back at him, amusement there beyond anything else and burning desire on his cheeks before Kurogane decided he’d seen enough.  He buried himself in Fai’s neck again, sucking there, finding an ear, not caring just so long as there was skin under his tongue and Fai’s hands working on him and both of them careening towards impossible speed.

He really couldn’t stop.  Sanity and logic aside, there wasn’t even a reason.  Fai was panting and Kurogane really wanted him to come first, but he had a head start and that other wandering hand finding other almost as sensitive parts of his anatomy to play with, so he wasn’t entirely surprised when he felt himself thrusting ruthlessly against Fai, the discomfort unbearable any longer.  He was grunting, he thought, and wondered at how undignified he sounded, then Fai was coming too and from his prime location just below Fai’s ear, Kurogane admired the way the wizard’s lips parted, eyes opened, glazed and head fell back revealing yet more pale neck-skin for Kurogane to feast on through the last of his own pleasure.

They were silent for a long time.

Breathing slowed, skin cooled, limbs became sore and Kurogane hid in the crook of Fai’s neck, both leaning against him and holding him up.  Fai’s hands slid awkwardly out of his underwear and returned to hang at his sides. 

They were a mess, but still, Fai didn’t make any move to free himself from Kurogane’s weight or tight embrace and Kurogane didn’t feel the need to move either.

Or rather, Kurogane told himself firmly, didn’t want to.  Not like they were comfortable or anything.  Which only went to prove that Fai didn’t want to either.

Then Kurogane felt Fai’s chest rising and falling erratically as though he was laughing.  Which, it turned out, he was.

"Not a race?” he chuckled, turning his head so his chin rested in Kurogane’s hair, and raising his hand to look at it in vague disbelief.  He sighed, and even that sounded amused.

“I should wash my hands.”

“Hm,” Kurogane agreed, talking mostly to Fai’s neck.

“You’ll have to let me go, Kuro-mi,” Fai suggested lightly.  Kurogane didn’t much like that idea, so he grasped Fai more tightly and straightened up so he could see Fai’s eyes and maybe decide just what he was going to do.  Or, perhaps more pressingly, what exactly he was doing now.  Fai was crazy.  This was crazy.  And apparently, he was now too.

There was an odd look on Fai’s face.  Apprehensive, unsure, undecided.  Nothing good; maybe even something unwanted, but done all the same, and to Kurogane that was that. 

“No more corridors,” Kurogane said.  It was both an offer and an end, and Kurogane knew it was unfair of him to force Fai to decide which but his tightened grip on Fai and the continued press of his body against Fai’s was an unmistakable indication of what his preference would be.

Fai smiled.

“No more corridors.”