Natsuki ventures into the room, closing the door with a click. "I brought soup."

"I'm not hungry." Yuki's stomach twists in a twinge of panic. The rapidly increasing temperature of his face threatens to burn a hole in the sheet that is his only defense against the bespectacled invader.

"Sick people are never hungry. You should eat anyway."

"Dun wanna" is the muffled reply.

"C'mon." Natsuki perches on the bed. Yuki wriggles away to avoid all contact.

"Yuki. What's wrong with you?"

"I'm sick!"

"Then eat the soup. At least taste it, for all my effort."

"I'm not gonna eat the soup!" Yuki abandons his only defense to yell at Natsuki, leaving his face exposed.

It takes Yuki a minute to taste it. The pale, thin lips on his and the shock are the first sensations, but then it's there, subtle, the flavor of spices blended with skill lingering on Natsuki's breath.


Yuki's eyes jitter in their sockets, then harden and slant into that frenzied, demonic mask. The water rises.

What do I do what do I dowhatdoI-

Natsuki pulls away quickly. "You're mad?"

What was that in Natsuki's voice? It was lower, damper than usual.

Then it dawns on Yuki. Natsuki is embarrassed.

"N-no! I'm not mad! I'm-I-"

Yuki feels like his lungs are shrinking. His voice is meek.

"I just don't know what to do."

He can't look at Natsuki, but words are pushing up his throat and they erupt before he can think.

"I-I've been-having these-dreams lately where we-we-do-things-" Yuki teeters dangerously at his limit.

"Like what." Natsuki is very quiet.

"Hnn-you know, like-what you just did-just now-and-and-"

"And more?"

Yuki sneaks a glimpse of Natsuki, straining to form a reply. What he sees clams him up completely.

Natsuki's head is ducked down, but he's peering up at Yuki slantwise, through his eyelashes, and his cheeks are pink. Not red. Bubblegum pink.

Yuki is suddenly acutely aware of Natsuki's position on his bed. He sits up, imploring Natsuki to save him from saying it, but Natsuki waits. Finally, Yuki forces it out.

"Yes, and more."

"And how did that make you feel?" Natsuki is taking no chances after his near-humiliation.

As Yuki recalls the dreams, part of him tingles familiarly, starts to lift...

"Geh!" Yuki grabs his pillow and frantically attempts to repress himself. His feet curl in on each other as the scenes come back, as the space between him and Natsuki on the bed begins to feel like friction.

It's answer enough for Natsuki. He reaches out, takes Yuki's face in his hands, and gently presses his forehead to Yuki's.

"The thing is, you don't need to know what to do."

Natsuki's hands are exactly as Yuki dreamed them. Warm and ragged, but tender.

"I d-don't?"

"You absolutely don't." Natsuki removes his glasses.

"Me knowing is enough for the both of us."

Natsuki pulls Yuki to him, to meet his lips again. He intends to make this kiss last much longer than the first. He shifts, repositions on Yuki's mouth over and over, exploring the boy from every angle.

Yuki jumps when Natsuki's tongue slips smoothly into the kiss and attempts to coax his own into action. He complies jerkily, simultaneously feeling extremely foolish and a little bit...exhilarated. His fingers slide up over Natsuki's shoulders and he scoots into Natsuki's lap.

It's enough to startle Natsuki. "Yuki-!"

"I wanted to be closer." Yuki snaps back to self-consciousness. "I-is that okay?"

Natsuki stares at Yuki. Yuki fidgets. "What did I say?"

"Yuki. Please forgive me."


In an instant, Natsuki is everywhere on Yuki. Arms around to his back, hands under his shirt, body against his, tongue teasing along his jawbone. Yuki cries out, vibrating with the contact.

"As close as you want, anytime. You don't have to ask." Natsuki blushes his sugary blush once more, and Yuki can't help himself. He mutters "cute" under his breath.

The blush deepens to a color like watermelon candy. Natsuki's lips graze Yuki's cheek, and he fingers the hem of the redhead's shirt.

"D'you think I could stay here tonight? I won't-" He falters. "We don't-have to do everything..."

Yuki nods into Natsuki's chest. "Yeah. Stay."

Natsuki thinks back to his house, to the preemptive dinner he made, and wishes he had hunches more often.

Haru wanders among the flowers in the garden, giving them their water.

Akira ponders the day's events over a bowl of curry shared with his feathered companion.

Keito chuckles into the pages of her book, shaking her head.


A/N: Ah, we have reached the finale. Again, thank you all very much for the support, and stop by again sometime! Youse guys are always welcome. Many cheers and a helluva good day.