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"Sasuke."
No answer.
"Sasuke!"
Again, silence. Tatewaki Kuno opened his slate blue eyes and looked at his surroundings, at first in confusion. Recognition dawned; it had been months since he had moved out of the Kuno estate into his own apartment, but still he had trouble remembering he wasn't at his childhood home where the diminutive ninja still resided. Sasuke had wanted to come with the kendoist, that was sure, but Kodachi would have none of it. So Kuno was left to his own devices, a fact which both delighted and dismayed him to no end.
Sighing, Tatewaki rose off the plush white couch and stretched. His apartment, though sporting the most luxurious of carpets, tapestries, and artwork, was quite bare. The lone white couch had no equally-overstuffed chair to complement it, but Kuno rather liked it this way. It gave him more than enough room for his katas and exercise regimen.
Making his way from the ample living area to the spacious bedroom located in the back, he stopped briefly to refill his glass of iced tea. Glancing at the front door, the kendoist sighed again, this time more pronounced. He had finally gotten the guts to move to this place because of one reason alone. And this reason wasn't even here.
He had loved Mousse possibly since the first day he had lain eyes on the myopic Amazon. Hair as dark as midnight, eyes the color of the ocean, skin as pink and translucent as a new-born babe's. Kuno thought about the way Mousse looked at him, the way he reserved his softest, most caring smile just for him. Mousse had captured him that day, blood and soul, and the kendoist had never looked back. Sure, he kept up his charade of obsession over Akane Tendo and the pigtailed girl, but that was only to keep up appearances. Mousse was the one who ruled over his heart.
Kuno frowned as he thought about where his koibito was. He wasn't the only one still playing pretend, and it pained Tatewaki to think that, at this moment, Mousse might be sacrificing himself for false love. The young Amazon had gone off with Ryoga on yet another scheme to keep up the charade of loving Shampoo. Kuno's eyes narrowed; he trusted no one but himself with his kitten.
He laid down silently on his western-style bed, arm reaching across in an automatic gesture. It was odd being here without his lover; ever since he had moved, Mousse was always by his side. He'd be waiting on the now-college student when Kuno would come home, cooking yet another delicious Chinese entree he learned from all the years working at the Nekohanten. Tatewaki always thought Mousse looked cute wearing nothing but a pair of pants and one of Kasumi's old aprons, his hair pulled back into a high ponytail, strands spilling onto his shoulders like darkest ink. Sometimes the kendoist would enter without Mousse hearing, and he would sneak up behind the Amazon, planting a kiss on Mousse's slender, sensual neck. His koibito would give a startled shout, and swat at him good-naturedly, smiling and laughing the whole time. Gods, Kuno loved that laugh. Mousse always laughed differently when they were alone, full and joyous; it was never hesitant or sarcastic when Tatewaki was around.
Settling back, Kuno absently stroked his chest, wondering what his koi was doing at that moment. His thoughts then shifted to what the two of them _might_ have been doing had the Amazon been home. A slow, wolf-like grin stretched it's way across his face. He imagined Mousse entering the room, clad only in the billowy navy pants he so favored. Kuno watched as his imagined lover stalked slowly to the bed, crawling onto it on hands and knees, panther-like in his graceful movements. The kendoist could almost see blue veins glowing softly through pale skin as Mousse padded his way up the length of Kuno's body; could almost hear that deep sultry voice whisper out, "Tatchi," a moment before they kissed. Kissing Mousse was eternally sweet, like honeysuckles in summertime. Their kisses were forever gentle, even when everything else they did was not. But tonight, Kuno thought with a bittersweet sigh, tonight would be gentle. He would make sweet love to Mousse's memory until the real thing came to take it's place.
His eyes closed as his fingers made their way slowly down his chest and stomach, imagining hot breath along his skin. He reached the waistband of his pants, and slipped deftly inside. He envisioned aquamarine eyes glittering up at him as ghost lips lowered themselves to Kuno's length. A small groan escaped his own lips as his hand closed hotly over his waiting erection. In his mind, the Amazon's tongue lapped up and down in time with his moving hand, mouth trapping his tip with a quick wetness.
Bringing himself closer to climax, Kuno's imagination got down to business. In his mind, he pictured the young Amazon straddling his hips and impaling himself onto Tatewaki's shaft. Of course, this was a daydream, so there was no fumbling around for lube, no awkward moments or uneven thrusts. Everything was perfect in the young kendoist's vision, and they rocked together toward completion simultaneously, not missing a single beat. As Kuno's hand brought him to orgasm, he imagined the look on Mousse's face, one he had seen a countless number of times before, but never ceased to amaze him, as the dream-Amazon climaxed as well.
Settling off into a comfortable, yet lonely sleep, Kuno finally passed out with Mousse's name on his lips.
--
Kuno opened his eyes lazily. The light was so bright! He shielded his eyes as they adjusted to the radiance. A boy appeared above him, sea-colored eyes staring at him worriedly, lovingly, sadly. Kuno smiled as he reached for that loving face, but his hand passed right through the image. Uncomprehending, Kuno knitted his brows together as he tried to sit up. He began fighting when he realized he couldn't. He then realized that he wasn't laying on his bed anymore, but in a field of strange, dizzyingly purple flowers, petals wide and fleshy, as if they were alive. He looked desperately at his young, naked lover, crouched beside him as he struggled with his invisible bonds. Suddenly, Mousse turned around and Tatewaki saw bruises blossom across his back and shoulders. Releasing a strangled cry, Kuno strengthened his efforts to free himself, then went slack with shock. Two huge, greatly feathered wings burst in a spray of blood and thicker things from the Amazon's back, Mousse stumbling and crying out in obvious torment. The kendoist watched in helpless, silent amazement as the wings spanned themselves outward, enveloping the slight male. The feathers were white, with veins of green and gold edging and threading through them; short from the Amazon himself, they were the most beautiful things Kuno had ever laid eyes on. He tore his gaze from Mousse's new appendages and glanced at his koi's face. Pain was etched there, lancing through the nude boy as he crouched on the bare earth.
Kuno awoke gasping for breath, for life. His entire body felt like it was dragging it's way upward from death itself, agony searing through every particle of his being. He let out a ragged moan as his dream came flooding back to him. His koi... why had he dreamt of Mousse in such pain? When he finally regained the use of his limbs once more, Kuno slipped from his silken bed sheets and strode, hard on his heels, into the adjoining bathroom. He splashed his face with cold water from the faucet, then looked at his reflection in the gilded mirror. Dark slashes showed under his eyes, elongating his aristocratic face, making him appear haggard. Shaking his head to ward off the remnants of the dream, Tatewaki moved into the stand-up shower stall, dispersing quickly with his clothes. Warm water streamed down his lithe form, drenching his wavy brown hair as he lathered himself up.
As he carefully washed his body, Kuno thought about where his koi was. An uneasy feeling came over him, the image of Mousse in so much pain still clinging to his consciousness. The two boys weren't expected back in Nerima for days. Perhaps it was time to pay Mousse and his directionless companion a visit.
--TBC
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