Author's Note: ~coughs~ This is a oneshot. It's the kind I never thought I'd post's a yaoi lemon. Clow and Yue. This is your chance to escape now. Do not flame, this is your final warning.

I do not own the characters involved in this story or the setting. I do not pretend to have any mastery over the language of Japanese...or Latin, or French, or German, or Russian, or Spanish or...wait, that's it. (I think I've got the hang of English though.) If my use of any of them is incorrect I apologize and would like a chance to correct my mistake...a kind correction would be accepted and probably thanked.

"Buckle your seat belt Dorothy, 'cause Kansas is going bye-bye."


His hands tangled in my hair, playing with the strands while shivers played up and down my spine. He had been reading a book for hours while I sat at his feet, watching the flames dance in the fireplace. I had given up on reading for the night, something within me was restless. I knew that the moon was not to blame, it was a gibbous moon and never seemed to have an effect on me either way. I just couldn't concentrate on the words on the page, so I watched the fire and lost myself in the feel of being touched.

I leaned my head slowly against my master's knee and smiled. His robes always smelled sweet, like candles, oils, and incense. The fabric was soft against my cheek, silk with a satin stitch embroidery that was a delight to touch but difficult to wash. He had long ago created a card just to wash the delicate robes, but that smell of the items he used always returned. Those scents were a part of him, identifying him to me as surely as his smile.


The flames were dying down though, and I considered moving to stoke the fire and maybe add more wood. It wouldn't do to have the light die down too low so that my master couldn't read. He already wore glasses from reading so much, and I feared that doing so in such dim light would make his sight worse. I couldn't bring myself to move though. I was in heaven, trapped by the attention he was giving me. The small tug against my scalp and the occasional brush of a fingertip against my skin was more than enough to send me into a state of absolute rapture.

I absently played with the hem of his robe, running the smooth fabric between my fingers. I folded it in half, just to feel the embroidery slip between my fingers. The silk didn't slide the same way, the fibers weren't quite as slick. It had a softer, almost fuzzy quality to it, and though it slid easier than most fabric I could feel the threads rub against each other. The satin embroidery simply slipped across almost without friction at long as I went with the threads instead of against them.

I realized that I was testing the texture of the fabric at gradually higher spots on his robe absently. I was tempted to see what it would feel like to press the fabric to his skin just to test the feel of it, but it was difficult to be so bold. My gestures were becoming more deliberate as I took more notice of what I maybe should not do and how my master might react to what I was doing. I did not want to interrupt his reading just because I couldn't concentrate.

I dropped my hand to the hardwood floor, tracing instead the grain of the wood. It was highly polished, but it still had a texture of its own under my fingertips. My eyes returned to the fireplace and the wood still burning at the bottom. There were still flames peaking out from the logs, but they were low now, and the wood no longer looked the same. Embers and ash with a solid core that held its shape. Where there had been bark or bare wooden surface was now a warped, almost bubbly surface that glowed bright orange in places, or was completely black where the light left it alone. I could almost forget the rest of the room as I stared at the shifting flame, until all that mattered was the dance unfolding before my eyes and the silk pressed against my face that came between me and my master.

The crash of a book hitting the floor just behind me made me jump and whirl around. My master looked as startled as I did, though it was his book that had made the loud noise. The way it had fallen seemed strange to me, it couldn't have landed that way if he had still been reading. I frowned, looking at the book for answers it could not give, until he bent with a sheepish expression to retrieve the item.

He set the book aside on the small table that sat beside his favorite chair. He made a small gesture, inviting me to return to my previous position, but I stayed where I was, facing him and looking up at him. I was still poised, crouched down as if to spring upon an intruder, but something else was holding me tense now. There was a level of disbelief that he had been allowing me to rest against him for so long even after he had stopped reading. What were we doing here, like this? Was it possible that he had been as lost in the sensation of caressing my hair as I had been by touching his clothes?

I dismissed the thought as wishful thinking. My world, my existence, was wrapped up around him, not the other way around. With a deep breath I nodded and resumed my seat, though with less ease than before. My heart constricted around my wishes, but I could not allow myself to hope. How much worse would I feel if hope was taken from me?

This time both of his hands slipped into my hair, rubbing my scalp gently before working further down. He kept running his fingers through my hair until he reached the first tie, then he pulled my hair onto his lap and began to free it. I closed my eyes, barely able to contain my reaction at how I felt to be paid such attention to. He placed the fabric bindings to the side and began to brush my long hair out with his fingers, freeing it entirely. My breath caught at the exquisite pleasure building in me, and I almost smiled despite the sweet pain I felt. He stopped after a time, then I felt his hands upon my shoulders, moving me gently.

"Stand up," he instructed softly.

I complied with one easy motion, facing him and ending up almost entirely wrapped in my hair. With it all freed, it wrapped around me like a soft silver blanket. I didn't understand why he wanted this, but it was enough that he told me to. The sheer adoration in his eyes caught me by surprise. Why would he look at me like that? I was the one pulled into his orbit, dependent on him, adoring and worshipping him.

Before I understood the emotions within me, I reached over to him to gently caress his cheek. He looked startled, but his own hand reached for mine. He held me there for a moment, then pulled my hand away carefully. I opened my mouth slightly, and I'm sure my hurt must have flashed on my face, but he smiled then. His smile always held me entranced. He pulled on my wrist, throwing me off balance, and I landed on his lap.

I didn't know what to do as I found myself in his warm embrace. My hair was everywhere, around us, between us, and he carefully began to move it all aside. I shifted closer to him to help move a few locks I had ended up sitting on, but when I was about to shift back his arms closed around me tightly and held me there. He bent his head over and pressed his ear to my chest, listening to my racing heart. I couldn't move, I could barely breathe, I had no idea what to do. Then he began to move a hand over my back, caressing me and reassuring me. I gasped a deep breath as he hit a spot between my shoulder blades, right between where my wings would be if they hadn't been magically dismissed at the moment. I knew I was sensitive there, but I had never imagined that being touched there by someone else, by my master, would make me feel like this.

My back arched against my will and I purred, loudly. He chuckled low in his throat and pressed more firmly against that spot, rubbing in circles, and then he brought magic to the tips of his fingers and I felt every nerve ending in my body flare with tingling life. I could barely whimper, though the sensation made me want to scream. His name nearly made it to my lips, but suddenly his lips were upon mine, stopping any words I could have formed.

He slid his face to the side and I could feel his hot, moist breath upon my ear. "Is this okay, Yue? Is this what you want?" The whispered words tickled my ear, sending shivers up and down my spine.

I couldn't believe he asked me that. "Vero, oui, da, si, ja, hai, yes, please...." I'm sure my eyes were glowing molten silver as I felt the magic flow over and through me, coupled with a desire stronger than I could contain.

"Are you sure," he asked, pulling back to look me in the eyes. I had never seen such raw emotion upon his face as stood there at that moment. I knew that my face reflected those emotions though, turning my expression from placid control to intense need.

"Do you want me to beg?"

"Never." His lips descended to claim mine again, and a searing heat flowed through me. I was on fire from head to toe, centering on the intimate contact of lips slowly opening against mine, inviting me to open to him. I was slightly surprised to find his tongue pressing into my mouth, but I eagerly met it with my own, trying to follow his lead. He was delicious, and the sensation of the deep kiss drove me wild. I hesitantly brought a hand around to touch him, and with a boldness that would have shocked me at any other time I slid my fingers through his hair, holding him close to me, feeling the silky texture of the thick strands as I balled my hand into a loose fist. I didn't pull, I didn't want to hurt him, but I needed him to stay there, stay kissing me like this.

He sent another jolt of magic through me and I had to pull away from his kiss. My sense of touch was heightened and I couldn't take any more suddenly. I felt like I would explode and every muscle in my body tensed. Just before...just before something would have happened...he moved his hand off of my back. I was left gasping as I called out, distraught, "Master!"

He frowned, looking down at me as he cradled me in his arms. I was shaking all over, curled up against his chest and near tears with my need for more. "Don't call me that," he murmured softly.

I blinked, confused. What else would I call him? Master was Master, he was my creator, he was my everything.

"Yue, my name is Clow. I can not, no, I will not touch you until you can call me by my name."

His hands fell away from me entirely. I didn't understand why I was being punished like this, but he looked to be in just as much agony. I couldn't understand why he would do this. If it hurt us both, why would he do it? "Why? I don't understand. How have I failed you?"

"Yue, you are not my slave. You are my creation. You are my pride, my highest triumph, my most complex and human creation. I gave you free will, and if you do not use it I can not justify to myself touching you to satisfy this feeling. I would be using you, and that is something I can't do."

"May I touch you instead?"

He stared at me, warring expressions of shock, joy, and sadness floating across his countenance. He finally laughed and took my hand, placing a small kiss in the palm. His faced darkened when he looked back up though, and I was terrified that he would deny me. An idea struck me and I smiled hopefully.

"Would you like me to touch you, Clow?"

It was his turn to gasp, ripples of pleasant surprise rolling from his mind as his ever-present mental shields began to slip. I didn't wait for a reply, already knowing the answer. I reached a hand forward, caressing his cheek softly before I reached to carefully remove his glasses. I set them on top of his book, then leaned forward to kiss him as he had kissed me before.

His eyes closed a moment before mine as I tried to do what he had done. My lips landed lightly upon his, brushing like feathers upon that sensitive skin, slightly tickling us both before I pressed more firmly against him. He wrapped his arms again around me, pulling us together so I could feel each breath he took. Something like lightning flowed between us then, like the magic he had sent through me, but at the same time different.

His hands became busy, pulling at fabric with a lazy patience that suddenly grew urgent as I deepened the kiss. The arid heat radiating from the fireplace began to touch bare flesh as he slowly exposed my skin, but everything facing away from the still burning wood was chilled. I shivered, but pulled at my sleeves to help remove them eagerly. When his hands brushed against my bare skin I was nearly overwhelmed by how good it felt to be touched in places I rarely felt anything but cloth.

The feel of my own hair brushing across my back now was almost more than I could stand. I felt like I would suddenly fly into a million pieces and scatter upon the wind, exploding outward softly and becoming something more than I was but also less. I almost wondered if this feeling would unmake me, sending me back to the magic I came from. He wouldn't do that to me though, he wouldn't do anything that would end my creation I was sure, so I allowed myself to feel the building pleasure and trust that it would not bring me to harm.

He lifted me in his arms, standing easily despite supporting my weight. He was kissing me everywhere now, letting my clothes fall as he kneeled on the deep rug placed before the hearth. He laid me down, pulling the rest of my clothes free and staring at what he saw now that I was exposed. There was hunger, pride, and admiration in his gaze as he devoured me with the look in his eyes. "I can't believe how perfect you are," he said softly, running a gentle hand down my exposed side. I shivered at the touch and at the passion that glowed in his eyes. I never dreamed, never imagined that he would grant my secret wish like this.

His eyes remained upon me as he slowly removed his robes, setting them aside absently as if distracted by what he saw. Was I so entrancing to him? If I was, it was because he created me to be so, I thought. I refused to dwell on the thought, instead propping myself up on my elbows as I watched him. He was beautiful. I could think of no better word for him as he exposed himself before my sight in the soft glow of the dying fire. I could tell the last of the flames were about to die, leaving only the warm glow of the embers behind. There was still just enough light though, just enough light to know he was the most perfect human ever. He would always be perfect to me.

He set aside the last of his clothes and kneeled before me just as the final flame died. The rosy glow of the embers lit the room just enough to see the desire in his eye. Just enough to see the passion in his face. Just enough to touch by, to be touched by, just enough to be able to tell that every secret desire I had harbored for him all this time was a secret desire he had shared. My hands memorized every detail of his perfect body as his hands raced over my skin. He kissed me, tasting me everywhere, and when given a chance I followed his example. I thrilled at every gasp and low moan I elicited from him with my clumsy exploration. I grew more confident, more daring, as that pleasure within continued to build and drive me forward, needing more.

At some point he found his cloak in the semi-darkness and covered us with the soft fabric. He was propped over me, searching my face for a moment before coming to a decision. I could feel him calling upon one of the cards, but I couldn't tell which one at first. One of Keroberus' cards, I surmised, right before a small jar flew across the room. Its chore finished, the spirit returned to card form and returned to the book. "Thank you, Move," Clow said before turning his attention to opening the jar. Hand cream, I realized as the gentle scent drifted on the air to me.

I had no idea what he would do with that at first, but he moved to lay beside me, and fingers now coated with the hand cream found their way to the entrance between my legs. I had thought that spot was there only because I had been fashioned after humans. I did not intake food, and even if I did I would not...did not need that particular spot. His questing fingers brought me a strange discomfort that was not altogether unpleasant, but I was still confused. I had a fairly comprehensive grasp on anatomy from the reading I had done, and this was not something I had come across. I burned, but I felt chills run through me despite the residual warmth from the now dead fire and the charm on Clow's cloak. His fingers were opening me, forcing muscles to part and causing a strange friction that kept the pleasure from escaping me entirely as I tried to puzzle out this new development.

His fingers hit a spot within me that made me close my eyes so hard that patterns danced randomly in my vision. It was something completely unexpected and I called out his name with a loud cry. He simply nodded, as if making a note of something, then continued moving his fingers within me until I wanted to start climbing the walls. Something was building inside of me, reaching for a limit that I did not yet understand, and he was keeping me just shy of that limit.

He withdrew his fingers and I was awash in a cold emptiness that shocked me. I needed something, I needed more from him, and he wasn't giving it to me. I almost wanted to cry from it, but I held my breath and waited. Clow would not stop without a good reason. He was Clow, he was my creator, he was, I now understood, my beloved. He would not betray me to the cold.

He moved over me again, positioning himself on top of me, between my legs. "This will hurt some, but it will feel good as well. You must relax or it will hurt worse."

I quailed at his words as he positioned himself at my opening, but I tried to relax. He eased inside me carefully, slowly, and I felt insanity pulling at me. It hurt so much, I felt muscles protest and a hot burning friction against painfully delicate flesh. Ice was running through my veins as fire burned below and a tear slid from my eye, across my temple, to meet with my hair.

Yet still, it felt so good that the pain didn't matter. There was a rightness to being filled like this, like something missing had been found and fulfilled. When he began to move, in and out in a steady rhythm, I had a growing feeling within me again, coming closer to something that I didn't understand. One of his hands reached around, grasping my member and stroking in time to his own thrusts. As his pace increased, so did that feeling, and I was losing track of everything as I lost myself in what was happening to my body.

"Te amo, mi amore. Ai shiteru. I love you...I love you...I love you...." This time I couldn't think of any other way to say it, too distracted as that building pleasure finally found release. I had contracted into a tiny spot of utter, painfully intense feeling and then I exploded, releasing with a feeling like an active volcano finally sending magma to the heavens. My nerve endings again danced with the feeling of being intensely alive, but this time there was no magic, and it was greater in magnitude by at least a hundred times.

Clow made a few more maddeningly sharp thrusts into me before his body tensed and I felt him pulse within me. He burrowed his face into the crook of my neck, biting me as his own explosion took him over. He went still, a glazed look in his eyes and a calm smile resting upon his lips. We lay like that for a time, then he raised himself on trembling hands and pulled out with a soft cry. It was over.

My thoughts were hazy, content, and I found my eyes drifting back to the fireplace. There were mostly only dark ashes left with a few glowing embers fighting valiantly to stay alive. The heat had gone from intense to simply comfortable, permeating the whole room in a uniform warmth. I pulled the cloak over my shoulders and settled into his arms.