Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Flicker ❯ Chapter 1

Title: Flicker

Summary: A moth can only go toward the flame, because that is its nature…Oriya x Muraki. Warnings for yaoi lemon.

A moment, the flicker of wings against the flame and the moth catches light, falling to the tatami-mat floor, its tiny body combusting in a brief second that seems to last an eternity. Frowning, Muraki reaches over to pinch out the tiny blaze, extinguishing the moth's corpse, leaving a bit of a carbon smear upon the smooth reed floor.

"Tch," Oriya frowns. The summer moon's bright enough, so he quenches the lamp, turning the flame off with a complaining squeak.

Sudden darkness, and the two sit in silence as the wan moon's glow slowly becomes brighter to their night-adjusting eyes.

"Really. It happens," Muraki says, a quiet voice in the indigo twilight. "You needn't be so solicitous. It's in their nature."

"Mmm," Oriya props his chin on his elbow, lying on his stomach, his bare legs crossed one over the other. "Still. It seems wrong to let them die needlessly just for the sake of our light."

Muraki shrugs, leaning against the lintel of the door. The moon's radiance glimmers over the koi pond, the twitch of an occasional fish rising to the surface to chase a reflection the only thing disturbing its otherwise perfect tranquility.

"They were made for the purpose of following fire. Why hamper them?" Muraki says thoughtfully.

"Because I don't want them to die," Oriya replies, simply. "Even if nature compels them, if I can prevent it…"

"…then you would corrupt the natural path of things?" Muraki asks, the hint of amusement along his voice. Oriya turns to look up at Muraki, yet there's no real smile, just that sense of brittleness, of fragility that seems to have invested itself in Muraki's shoulders, in the way he stares at his hand in the dusky night.

"If I can save them…then call it corruption," Oriya replies.

"Corruption." The word's a sigh, rounded out by sensuous lips in the warm summer night. "But what does the path of nature say to you?"

Oriya doesn't respond. It's a dangerous direction that this conversation's taken. Another word here, and it could spell the beginning of yet another argument. Another word there, and Muraki could fall into one of his strange bouts of melancholy, finely tuned madness just a breath away.

Oriya closes his eyes. Time feels as though it moves away from him.

And that's when Muraki comes to him. A moment later, Oriya's eyes are opened in surprise as Muraki settles next to him on the cool tatami, the lamp moved to a safer location, no longer a barrier between the two.

"What does it say?" Muraki asks, as Oriya turns over on his side, moving to sit up, surprised by Muraki's actions. Muraki's arm slips around him, and he bends down over Oriya. Muraki's taken off his shirt. It's a discarded rumple of white in the distance.

"Muraki." Almost a warning, almost hope, almost…

"Tell me." Muraki's head bows gracefully into the gap between Oriya's chin and shoulder, his breath hot against Oriya's throat. "What does it say?"

Turning Muraki's face to his, Oriya silences him with a kiss. Gentle at first, a chaste touch of lips. As passion grows, Oriya's hand goes to clasp Muraki closer, to press him down against the cold floor, the heavy curtain of his hair sliding over the two of them, an inky waterfall flowing over Muraki's ivory skin.

"Is this reason enough for you?" Oriya's lips wander over Muraki's bared shoulder, his skin pale to translucency, the meander of blood vessels just beneath the surface seemingly the only sign of life.

"Not enough," Muraki whispers, his arms pulling Oriya to him, feeling the weight of Oriya's clothes settle around him, the silk sliding against his skin. "Not enough."

"Then is this enough?" Oriya's lips trace a path along Muraki's body, following the contours of his supple skin, feeling it shiver delightfully under his touch, as his hands begin to divest Muraki of his trousers, fingers deftly unhooking fastenings, hands sliding beneath the fabric, pushing it aside even as Muraki raises his hips and helps him slide off the remainder of his clothes.

"No." Muraki's voice is tainted with challenge, seductive and willful.

"Then let me be enough," Oriya murmurs as his kisses move further along Muraki's skin until he's taken him into his mouth.

Muraki gasps at the sudden heat of it, and Oriya grows more demanding. He nearly writhes beneath Oriya's ministrations, yet the press of Oriya's arm keeps him from squirming. Oriya's breath stirs upon his skin while his mouth and tongue continue their work, even as Muraki's hand has caught at Oriya's head. His fingers clench along the nape of Oriya's neck, dark hair slipping across porcelain white, and he grits his teeth, fighting the urge to cry out as Oriya's mouth moves wickedly against him.

And suddenly, it's cold. Oriya draws back, leaving Muraki panting against the floor, hand falling lax to his side.

"Oriya, I…" Muraki half moves to sit up, insistent, when Oriya moves again to crush him against the floor, forcing him back down, a hand clasping his wrist as Oriya presses ungentle kisses against him, ravishing his mouth, his throat, an assault to Muraki's senses.

"You…" The word's a moan against Oriya's shoulder, as Oriya retrieves something from a nearby drawer, something that Muraki only vaguely remembers hearing as a half-hearted clatter in the dark.

"Is this enough?" Oriya's hand glides down again, this time bypassing Muraki's member teasingly, as his fingers slide lower. They're cool and slick and, quickly, they're in him.

"No…" Muraki nearly tenses, but then relaxes, as the fingers push into him, one joining another, slippery and strong, moving deep within him until they find that point that has him shuddering, urgently seeking out Oriya's member with his own hand, goading it into an increasing hardness as his other moves to unfasten Oriya's clothes, fumbling impatiently.

"Not…yet…" Muraki's lips curve salaciously.

Oriya's eyes are unreadable in the shadows, yet the moon's glow catches the ghost of a smile, fleeting as the short lives of red dragonflies in the summer twilight.

"Then…" Oriya pulls away, unwinding himself from Muraki's hands, withdrawing his fingers as, momentarily, Muraki's left alone, the hot throb of his desire the only seemingly real thread that ties him to this world even as the icy moon above witnesses this rare encounter.

A moment, the fluttering of silken sleeves along his sides, and Muraki's borne up, pierced in a sudden shock of pain that gradually recedes as Oriya slides into him, slicked with lubrication, and they fall to the floor again, hearts pounding with a shared intensity of need. Oriya's breath hitches and Muraki's voice comes in gasps and moans, soft sounding things that Oriya's hand captures, covering Muraki's mouth with the damp taste of salt.

A moment and a moment and a moment. It becomes the only thing that's real in this moon-drenched madness, this sweep of moth's wings, this falling ember that dissolves into ash. Oriya moves against Muraki, strong and steady, hands clasping the pale man against him as Muraki, too, pushes along with Oriya, searching with him for that point in which all else seems to disappear into oblivion.

Muraki comes first, Oriya's hand snared around his member. With a choked cry, he falls into a paroxysm of pleasure, shivering as he spills. Oriya follows, a few thrusts later, collapsing against Muraki, his breath gasping along Muraki's throat, sweat-dampened silk sticking to Oriya's back.

"E-enough?" Oriya says, winded, as he slides out, leaving Muraki empty.

Muraki says nothing, but kisses Oriya gently upon his forehead, a soft gesture that ultimately means nothing. Oriya's eyelids waver and close, the first sleep of the night threatening to take him away. The two are half caught between the moon's light and the room's darkness.

It's at that instant that Oriya thinks of his answer to Muraki's question, even as Muraki's arms wind around him, comforting, fingers working their way along his loosened hair, a soothing motion. Yet Muraki's quicksilver eyes are blank as they stare past Oriya at the shadows beyond.

"What does the path of nature say to you? What does it say?"

"It tells me to save you."

Thanks: This one's for RubyD, because she wanted an Oriya lemon. Thanks to her for prereading (she helped me improve it from the first draft), and Aeanagwen for proofreading (she manages to help me make sense of my convoluted phrases).

Author's notes: This is my first lemon - and a yaoi lemon to boot. I like to think of it as the 'instant-lemon' since it took an hour to write (ah, the products of insomnia). It took a lot longer to edit though (thanks A-chan!).

I think of this as "Muraki pushes, and Oriya pushes back." Consider who the emotional 'seme' and 'uke' are, instead of the physical ones, if you don't particularly like this lemon configuration. Or feel free to tell me about it.