Title: Their First Night
Author: crimsonrosepetals
Summary: Doumeki may never remember but it was raining, their first night together.
Rating: M
Pairing/s: More Doumeki/Watanuki than DoumekiHimawari (but the straight pairing is still there –unfortunately, for all hardcore DouWata fans who refuse all other pairings.)
Warning/s: AU – Same universe as Memory; can be considered as its companion fic. Rated M for a reason. Mentions of sex. Again: there is (necessary, however unwanted) DoumekiHimawari. I have warned you.
Disclaimer: I do not own xxxHolic. Will probably never.
Author's Notes: I have no good excuse for this. The plot bunny appeared and threatened me to write this, so I did. Please be nice if you plan to review. Remember: you have been warned about the rating and the straight pairing.
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(Doumeki may never remember but…)
It was raining, the first time they made love. In the Doumeki family temple, in Shizuka's room, entangled in white and blue satin sheets.
He had been so beautiful, Kimihiro, as he laid – sprawled passively, delicately – on the futon; his dark black hair splayed messily atop the pillowcase, his lips bruised from being harshly kissed.
His dual-coloured eyes brimming with raw expression: fear, desire, anxiety, abandon, willingness, innocence. Complete and absolute trust.
(Doumeki may never remember how he'd groaned hungrily at the sight.)
They had made love slowly at first – shy, hesitant caresses on soft, sweat-slicked skin, lingering on small, near-invisible scars – before strong, calloused hands began to touch more openly, stroking pale flushed cheeks, cream-white thighs and hardened flesh; smaller hands clutching bracingly on powerful shoulders, clenching tightly at every arch of their owner's back, fingers fisting in short, black hair.
Bodies grasping, mouths meeting, tongues clashing, lips ghosting over Kimihiro's everywhere, Shizuka sucking at his neck, nipping at his shoulders…his chest, (tasting him, making him shiver, making him writher in ecstasy).
They made love to the sound of falling rain, drumming on the temple roof; and breathless gasps, and shallow breaths. To pleasured moans and keening cries and whispered chants of each others' names as they both reached completion, – hard, and strong, and fast – their bodies straining closer, deeper, till they could no longer tell where one ended and the other began.
They'd lain together in the afterglow – Shizuka's head resting lightly on his lover's chest, Kimihiro's fingers laced loosely in the archer's hair – spent and elated, their cooling bodies intertwined, their breathing deep, regaining the patterned norm.
Kimihiro had been the first to say "I love you", in the barest, most quiet of whispers; Shizuka could have crowed in exultation (he'd been waiting for so long to hear it, at least once…). Instead, he'd kissed the smaller boy – sweetly, tenderly – and held him tight, and they both fell asleep as the rain continued to fall outside.
(Doumeki may never remember but…)
It was the best night of their lives,
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It was his first time making love to her that night; their first night together as husband and wife. In the hotel where they held the reception, in one of its rich, penthouse suits, entangled in pure white linen sheets.
She, Himawari, had been a virgin before then, and was scared at first – worried, and hesitant, and afraid – but Doumeki touched her soothingly, and calmed her; eased her trembling with his touch, banished her fears with his voice.
They made love slowly, gently, as married couples do on their first time; with fleeting caresses and muted sounds of pain and pleasure and ecstasy; their hands and mouths and tongues exploring each others' bodies leisurely. They came together and held each other tight, her calling out his name, him soundlessly mouthing hers to the warm summer night.
They'd lain together in the aftermath, exhausted but content, and she fell asleep in his arms; warm and tired and happy.
And Doumeki'd buried his face in her long brown curls, and closed his eyes, and slept; dreaming of dual-coloured eyes – one cobalt blue, one amber brown – and a whispered "I love you", and the sound of steadily falling rain, drumming on a shingled roof.
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He has rarely touched her since.
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Thank you very much for reading my fic; I hope you aren't too disappointed and please review if you can on your way out.