Butterfly Collector: Bloody Thorns.
Seimei seems so pleased once the swelling has gone, once the only thing over the skin of his neck is the name he bestowed upon him, and the thorns he so painstakingly carved.
Even if he has healed faster, the skin still feels too tight; Soubi thinks he will be sorry when that fades away too, because like this is such a sweet memento of Seimei's weight over his hips, of his fingers gently wiping the blood away.
Seimei crawls over the bed towards where he is, and drapes his arms around him, leans his chin against his shoulder and gazes over the mirror. Soubi can feel the taught line of his body pressed against his back and he closes his eyes for a second, trying to picture how that'd feel if Seimei's sweater wasn't there.
"My Fighter," Seimei sighs; Soubi can feel the shape of his lips against his neck, pressed against the thorns. When he opens his eyes, Seimei's eyes are half open, looking at him through the mirror, his smile soft and pure like a midsummer night, wisps of his own hair mangling with Seimei's dark hair and Soubi's heart; the chrysalis has opened.
Soubi smiles too and nods.