The Fox and the Lion

By Scarlet Tigress

Chapter 1

A sound startled Doumeki Shizuka out of a deep slumber. At first he was not sure if he had really even heard the noise or if the sound had been part of a dream. His bedroom was not close to the front entrance of the temple and so the knocking was faint…but persistent. The boy glanced at his clock and groaned, it was barely three in the morning. Rap, rap, rap!!! The knocking was unmistakable now. With a sigh, Doumeki rose from his futon and re-tied his robe. Apparently, his parents had gotten back earlier than planned and forgotten their key. Something similar had happened once or twice before with all the traveling his father did to other temples. Sometimes little things like keys got forgotten in the rush to get from one place to another, Doumeki did not really mind. The boy rubbed his eyes as he made his way down the stairs to the front entrance of the temple. The place was really too big to always know for sure where the knocking was coming from, but the front entrance was always the best bet. As he walked towards the sound, Doumeki knew he had guessed correctly and that his parents were knocking on the front door. Stifling a yawn, the archer pulled open the heavy temple door and looked out.

To his utter shock, his late night visitor was not his father and mother, but Watanuki. The pale seer often asked for his help in dealing with paranormal problems, but he had never come to the temple without calling, or by himself. Doumeki's classmate looked both terrified and sick, as if he would pass out any minute from either fear or fever. Watanuki's skin was always fair, but tonight the boy looked so pale that he might have been made of snow. The seer's strangely lovely bicolor eyes burned from reddened sockets as if he had been crying hard for many hours. Doumeki almost gasped in shock but, as usual, the archer firmly held his feelings at bay and only managed to stare.

"How…can you…sleep? Don't…you…feel…it? Its even here, but only a little." Watanuki panted as if he had run a very long way, apparently with a fever, Doumeki thought angrily. The seer was amazingly good at taking care of others and almost incapable of caring for himself. As usual, he kept the anger out of his face even if he could feel it coiling into his belly.

"Feel what?" The archer asked expressionlessly.

"Didn't you at least notice how dark it is? Are you a complete idiot?" Watanuki asked, grinding his teeth in frustration, an angry swath of red beginning to glow in each cheek.

"Its dark. It's the middle of the night." The archer stated crossing his arms.

Watanuki said nothing, but scowled darkly in a way Doumeki had never seen before. The smaller boy's face looked positively livid and the red eyes did nothing to soften Watanuki's fierce look. Doumeki teased Watanuki every day of their lives, but he could not remember the seer ever looking at him with such desperate fury. The smaller boy slowly lifted his hand to cover Doumeki's right eye, the same eye he shared with the seer, who had lost one of his own. Instantly, the night was brighter and the moon's light even illuminated all the cherry trees of the temple courtyard. The archer was now able to see how the world really looked, at least in his own reality. Now Doumeki did gasp. The night, the real night, was not pitch black and cloudy! The gloomy darkness was only something his right eye could see, something not truly part of this world. It was spirit. Te world was filled with a terrifying spiritual pollution strong enough to cover the entire sky. No wonder Watanuki looked like hell.

"Where is Yuko?" The archer asked, trying to keep his shock out of his voice. Watanuki did not seem to notice.

"Gone. Left on business. I called, but she is very far away…worlds away. She told me to come here." Watanuki said, his tired voice slowly losing its anger. The seer was rocking on his feet and looked, again, close to collapse. Doumeki put a steadying hand on his friend's shoulder, noting that Watanuki was damp with sweat even through his clothing.

"What does she want us to do?" The archer asked, his face carefully set to mask his worry.

"Yuko said…stay close to you…the miasma is…is too strong for me. You, probably drive it away, like other…spirits. I can't take it anymore…hurt everywhere…" With one last sigh, Watanuki sat down, right there, on the front step of the temple. The seer took a deep breath and rested his head on the door frame, the world spinning before his eyes.

The temple grounds were so much cleaner than anywhere else, even Yuko's shop. Watanuki almost felt like sighing in relief! However, now that he was not drowning in spiritual poison, the boy could barely keep his eyes open. The walk in the venomous haze from Yuko's shop to Doumeki's temple had taken every bit of strength and will that the boy had. After all, even struggling to get to Yuko's place so that he could call the witch had almost been deadly. Watanuki had felt his life slipping away at least three times in the past two days because of the ghostly toxin of the miasma. Despite his unwillingness to ask for the archer's help in anything, Watanuki was truly desperate now and Doumeki was the only one who could help. Even standing next to the exorcist was slowly clearing his head. Watanuki was so exhausted that just falling asleep out here on the stairs was beginning to sound very appealing.

"Come in. Spend the night." Doumeki said simply and took Watanuki's arm to help the seer stand. Doumeki was shocked by how cold the other boy's skin felt. A jolt of fear ran up Doumeki's spine. Watanuki was seriously in trouble and to think that he had been walking around like this for days. The archer silently cursed the stupid seer for being so damn stubborn, his classmate should have come to him when all this started!

The archer slipped an arm around his pale friend's shoulders, again shocked by how cool and sweaty Watanuki felt. With a small grunt, Doumeki lifted Watanuki off the stairs and carried him into the temple. The larger boy tried not to think about how good Watanuki's semi-conscious body felt in his arms, how the weight of the seer felt comfortable against him. Doumeki was almost glad that Watanuki was feverish so that he could not see the blush spreading hotly across the archer's face. Such strong emotions were alien to the archer and yet he could not help the way he felt anymore than a man standing in the ocean could help being swept away. He wondered, not for the first time, why his grandfather visited Watanuki's dreams and not his own. He had so many questions now that he had been too young to ask when the man passed away. Nobody knows about the irregularities of love in fifth grade and even if he had known what to ask, Doumeki was sure he could not have understood the answer.

Now, as he half carried/ half dragged Watasnuki through the darkened house to the bathing room, Doumeki knew exactly what he would say. He would ask how his grandfather had managed to love both his grandmother and his great uncle without them hating each other. Was it possible to like both girls and boys or was there something wrong with him? Nothing had been wrong with his grandfather, whom he had loved so dearly, but what if it wasn't the same for him? Was love of a woman the same as loving a man? How is love conducted when your beloved was a man and what happened if he did not love you back? That was the most burning question of all. He wanted to ask his grandfather how to survive if the object of one's affection turned away, or worse, hated him. Even the thought of real hatred, fear or disgust in Watanuki's strange cobalt blue and brassy gold mismatches eyes sent a spear of icy panic into his belly. Perhaps it was better if the seer never knew how he felt.

It was awkward, trying to carry Watanuki down the narrow hallway without banging the seer into something along the way. Whenever the other boy managed a lucid moment, he pushed against Doumeki in a half hearted attempt to escape. The archer did not much care about the other boy's dignity and only held him tighter. Despite his best efforts to ignore it, he could not help but notice how much the tight press of his classmate against him was arousing his own flesh. Doumeki panted and resisted the urge to turn his head into Watanuki's unruly dark hair and inhale the scent of the seer's body. He just had to get the seer out of those soaking clothes and into some hot water before whatever illness had taken hold of him became any more serious. Or before he did something that he would later regret. The archer silently gave thanks to Buddha when he finally reached the bathing room, he had never really thought of that hallway as being so long! The room was large for a bathing room and Doumeki was grateful for the extra space as he propped Watanuki up against the wall and began to undress him.

"Stop…what're you doing?" The seer muttered and pushed at Doumeki's hands weakly.

"You're freezing. You need a bath." Doumeki said, ignoring Watanuki's mumbled protests.

"Leave me alone." The seer hissed in barely more than a whisper. Doumeki felt his heart crack a little, but soon the sadness was replaced with anger.

"If you had come sooner, you could do this your self. Idiot." Doumeki said, a bit of anger leaking into his otherwise cool voice. Watanuki did not respond. He was completely unconscious. Sighing in both relief and frustration, Doumeki finished taking off the jacket and the soggy shirt beneath it. The archer sat back on his heels for a moment, trying to decide what to do. He was sure Watanuki would be furious with him if he undressed the boy completely without his permission, but the seer's chilly skin could definitely use the warmth of the bath. As he puzzled, he could not help but admire the beautiful, smooth white skin of the other boy's chest. Unlike the muscled thickness of his own tawny body, Watanuki was pale and slender. How could anyone deny such beauty? Surely a man could be as lovely as a woman? Doumeki, at least, had always thought so. Watanuki had the body of a runner, with long smooth muscles terminating in quick, agile limbs. The seer's bare stomach rippled with lean muscle all the way down to his slender hips and his skin was as soft and white as any girl's. Doumeki tore his gaze away, mentally chastising himself for staring. It was not like he hadn't seen his classmate's chest before, but the archer had never had as much luxury or privacy to look at his friend's body. Gently, he swatted Watanuki's cheek.

"Oi. Wake up!" Doumeki shouted into Watanuki's limp face.

"Go away… Want to sleep." Watanuki mumbled, barely coherently. Doumeki sighed, there was no helping it.

Trying to keep his heart rate under control, the archer pulled Watanuki over his left shoulder and unzipped his pants. Despite the sweat and the fever, Watanuki still smelled good and Doumeki couldn't help but press his face against the smooth flesh and inhale the other boy's scent. He smelled like pine needles and musky vanilla. A strange smell, to be certain, but it was still stirring. Doumeki felt himself begin to swell beneath the light sleeping pant he wore under his kimono as he responded to the strange, but lovely scent. Biting his lip and praying Watanuki wouldn't come to, Doumeki pulled his friend out of his pants and lifted him like a sack of rice over his shoulder. With care, Doumeki slid Watnuki into the warm water of the bath. It would have been too awkward to scrub and rinse Watanuki first and the archer was desperate to bring a little heat into his chilled classmate. Doumeki still reminded himself to change the water later that night or at least before his parents got home. With a mental list of chores forming, He removed his own clothing with one hand and climbed into the tub with the seer.

Holding Watanuki against his chest, the archer began to gently wash the cold sweat from his companion with a soft cloth and a bit of soap. The tub was truly going to be a mess, his mother would be furious if she saw them now with the bathroom such a mess. Still, Doumeki thought his grandfather would probably smile wistfully in the way that he did every time he thought of his great uncle. Male affection was not something his grandparent had ever been uncomfortable with. Doumeki, however, was not so lucky. Holding Watanuki against his own naked flesh was bringing redness to his face that had nothing to do with the heat of the bath. His organ was already erect and slowly becoming so hard that it ached. Doumeki tipped Watanuki into the water and began to wash his friend's hair, reveling in the thick black waves. As he washed him, Doumeki noticed that a bit of color was slowly creeping back into the seer's pale face. Watanuki's eyelids twitched. The archer knew he would wake soon and without another thought, Doumeki pressed his lips to the seer's mouth. He ground his lips passionately against the other boy's mouth. He longed to look into Watanuki's face, but the archer kept his eyes screwed shut, afraid those cobalt blue and tawny portals would fly open in indignant rage.

Too soon, a moan escaped from Watanuki's throat and, though his body cried out for more, Doumeki released him. The archer moved to lean against the seer in the most unassuming way possible, even though he longed to run his hands down that perfect skin. Slowly, Watanuki shook his head and opened his fever-clouded eyes. He was still a bit delirious with sickness from the miasma, but he could think clearly enough to notice that he was sitting in a bath against Doumeki. Instantly, his face flushed red with embarrassment and he slid away from the other boy as gracefully as he could. Despite his emotional discomfort, the seer felt better than he had in days and was grateful that Doumeki had managed to get him into the bath. Why was it that the brassy-eyed archer was always helping him? Watanuki had never had a friend go to such lengths before, not even Himawari whom he adored unreservedly.

Even when the situation called for something embarrassing like being stripped naked and bathed like an infant, Doumeki was there. A spark of something deeper than gratitude sprang to life in Watanuki's chest and not for the first time. However, the only sense that the seer could make of the feeling was limited at best. He only felt something similar around Zashiki Warashi or Himawari-chan and they were both girls. With Doumeki, the warm little emotion was different and yet strikingly similar. Watanuki chalked it up to a constant assault by the supernatural and usually discounted it as just another inexplicable part of his life. Tonight, however, something shown in Doumeki's eyes, even as his expression set itself into his usual stoic mask. Puzzled, Watanuki stared at his friend for a bit. He noted the ruddy stain across Doumeki's cheeks, but attributed it to the heat of the bath. How could he know that the blush was from passion and that the heat slowly draining from his friend's strange brass colored eyes came from a stolen kiss?