Rain

"You are leaving?"
      Watari shrugged into his coat and grinned at a surprised-looking Tatsumi over his shoulder.
      "Aa. Got tomorrow off."
      "I know… I thought…" The Secretary shook his head. "Never mind. Enjoy your break."
      Watari paused - Tatsumi almost looked disappointed. But then, he'd be here tomorrow, even though it was the weekend, and probably expected Watari to take advantage of the time for a little personal research in his lab: they'd normally have lunch together under those circumstances. But Watari had already arranged to meet Oriya. Tatsumi would have to do without him for once.
      "Ta. Ay will!"
      Waving jauntily, he almost skipped out of the building. It had been a long, busy week, and he was looking forward to Oriya's company.
      He didn't notice Tatsumi gazing after him, eyes sad…

He materialised in an alley a short distance from the shop he'd planned to visit - an old place selling locally made ceramics. It carried a small but very attractive range of goods, including the yunomi Watari wanted to buy for Oriya, a delicate set in rich red with golden maple leaves. He paid and left the shop, glancing upwards at the heavy grey clouds that had rolled over the city while he'd been inside, and headed for KoKakuRou as it started raining.
      Actually, 'raining' was an understatement. It was, as Paul used to say, fucking pissing down.

"Yutaka!" Oriya held him at arms' length as he dripped on the covered balcony. "Why didn't you take a taxi?"
      He blinked. It simply hadn't occurred to him.
      "Um… sorry…"
      Oriya sighed and unbuttoned the sodden calf-length coat, peeling it from slim shoulders and frowning at the clothing underneath, which was almost equally wet.
      "We'd better get that off you before you catch a chill."
      Watari chuckled.
      "Heh, wun't happen. Shinigami, 'member? Ay dun' get ill. Well, not ill like that."
      "All the same…"
      The scientist slid a wet hand into the swordsman's hair at the back of his head and pulled him forwards into a gentle kiss.
      "Used t'like playin' in the rain, when Ay were little…" It was said almost wistfully, and Oriya smiled. The day was warm, the rain not that cold - it couldn't hurt… He slid off his outer kimono, then reached for his guest, strong fingers easing open the buttons of Watari's shirt.
      The shinigami eyed him curiously.
      "Oriya?"
      The swordsman paused in his task, gazing into tigerseyes.
      "Rain feels… good on skin…"
      Watari glanced over his shoulder - but the garden was sheltered, and with the heaviness of the rain no-one was around. Grinning gleefully he held his arms open for Oriya to finish his task…

The swordsman stepped back a little and gazed at the naked form before him. Oh, yes, he'd seen it before, many times, in the muted golden glow of the lights, but here, naked in the rain…
      Raindrops shimmered on Watari's skin, silvering his paleness, darkening the gold of his hair. Slender, long-legged, his arms held wide, head tipped back on that long, elegant neck, he looked like some sort of elemental creature…
      Oriya swiftly slid out of his nagajuban and stepped off the balcony into the downpour. Watari grinned at him, shimmering eyes wide.
      "s'lovely!" He reached a hand to his companion, pulling Oriya close, sliding long, leanly-muscled arms around the swordsman's more powerful body. "So're yew, Oriya-kun…"
      Blinking in surprise, Oriya didn't object as Watari pulled him close, moulding cool slim body to his own, soft lips brushing his mouth - then pressing more insistently, warm tongue delicately touching Oriya's lower lip. Hesitantly, the swordsman parted his lips, shyly brushing Watari's tongue with his own…
      The shinigami was warm, tasted of coffee and something sweet - some sort of pastry? - his lips pliant and caressing. It was very arousing, Oriya thought to himself, somewhat dazedly. Fortunately Watari felt the same, as evinced by the swelling hardness at his groin. The swordsman slid his hands down to cup lean buttocks, earning himself a gasp and a sharper thrust of tongue against his own.
      Watari shifted slightly, pulling back to ease his erection into a slightly more comfortable position against Oriya's groin, and the swordsman drew a shuddering breath. There was something intensely erotic about this, naked in the garden, in the open, standing in the downpour… It should have been at least cool, if not cold, but the heat of the shinigami's body against his, moving very slightly as Watari's hand tangled in wet hair to pull him even closer, the kiss becoming deeper and more arousing… Oriya could feel heat gathering low in his belly. He pulled back a little, panting, whisper just audible over the sound of the rain.
      "Yutaka… Shall we go inside?"
      He thought for a moment the shinigami hadn't heard him - Watari was kissing and nipping his throat and jaw - but he felt the slight nod. Wrapping an arm tightly around his companion's waist, he ushered Watari into his private rooms…

Watari didn't want to let him go, and Oriya finally resorted to dropping a handful of thick towels on the floor. The scientist sank to his knees, hands slowly, deliberately sliding down the swordsman's body to his hips, then pausing. Trembling, desperate to have those hands move lower, Oriya gazed down at the beautiful, aroused figure at his feet.
      "Yew OK?" It was whispered, and Oriya managed to nod. He was rewarded by the most dazzling sunburst of a smile - then Watari knelt up, thin hands cupping tight buttocks, pressing his neck to the swordsman's erection and nuzzling his belly. Oriya's legs nearly gave out: he fisted his hands in wet golden hair as Watari turned his head sideways and lowered his mouth to the glistening head of his companion's penis. Kissing softly. Then licking. Then delicately taking it into his mouth and nipping gently.
      Oriya gave a strangled cry and did collapse, falling to his knees, then twisting onto his back on the crumpled towels, thighs spread widely, tugging as gently as he could, given that he'd nearly lost control, on Watari's hair. Smiling broadly the shinigami nestled between his legs, forearms under his thighs, hands resting on lean hips, and ran his tongue slowly up Oriya's aching shaft.
      He nearly came. Only years of being punished if he dared to climax before being given permission saved him. Shaking, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and stared at Watari's lowered head, watching the shinigami lick, then suck the whole penis into his mouth… Oriya slumped back down with a sob, banging his head against the floor.
      "Yutaka… Please!"
      The scientist paused, then slid up the powerful body below him, shivering as his erection pressed against Oriya's.
      "Wha's matter?"
      "Please… I want… you to…"
      Watari blinked, then frowned.
      "But… I thought…"
      Oriya's hands gripped his buttocks tightly.
      "In me… please…"
      But the shinigami silenced him, kissing him gently.
      "Wouldn' yew rather be in me?"
      Oriya froze, staring into loving chatoyant eyes.
      Him… inside…?
      He'd never… Muraki hadn't…
      He bit back a sob and shook his head. Watari kissed the corner of his mouth.
      "Please? F'me?"
      Oriya's eyes were wide. Watari wanted this? But…
      And suddenly the idea was beautiful. Liberating. Intensely arousing. He kissed his partner, chuckling soundlessly against his lips.
      "For you…"

Oriya managed to stumble to the bathroom for a tube of gel, catching his breath on his return: Watari looked so beautiful sprawled there, pale and glowing against the darkness of the towels. Oriya paused for a moment, memorising the sight - then knelt between the shinigami's legs, coating his fingers liberally with the gel.
      Watari was tight, and it must have been painful, for all he tried to be slow and gentle, but the scientist never flinched, not even when Oriya covered the slim body with his own and pushed inexorably in…
      He paused once he was fully sheathed, unblinking, staring down into shimmering golden eyes. It felt… felt…
      It felt like coming home, like the warmth of your bed when you were cold and overtired, like the first breath of the clean winter winds, like the touch of sakura petals on your face… It was all the good things he'd never known all at once, and he was overwhelmed. Unaware of the tears streaming down his cheeks, he began to move, eyes not leaving Watari's face.
      Intensity… He lost consciousness as he came, just for a moment, and came to to find himself cradled in long slender arms, Watari's hand stroking his hair, lilting voice murmuring lovingly to him. He sighed and kissed the shinigami's throat.
      "Yutaka…"
      A deep, happy sigh.
      "Oriya…"
      Half-dozing, the swordsman slid a hand down the slim body beside and slightly under him, fingers brushing slipperiness on Watari's abdomen. He reached absently for a towel, wiping away cooling semen, then hauled himself tiredly onto one elbow.
      "Bed, I think, my friend. More comfortable."
      "Aa." But Watari seemed disinclined to move - so Oriya pushed himself upright, reaching down for the shinigami, pulling him up into strong arms and carrying him the short distance to the futon. Watari stretched, sprawling on the dark sheet with a languid smile, one hand reaching for the swordsman.
      "C'mon. Wan' t'cuddle."
      And Oriya slid in beside him, holding him tightly, suddenly believing that everything could be alright after all.

© 2004 May 22^nd Joules Taylor

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