Where Shadows Lurk and Darkness Dwells

2

London, Term of the Yellowtail - Child's MoonCrane's Pace, Sojourn of the Columbine, at the Locust PassRun 306 after the First Cataclism

It was still dark, outside, but the first brushstrokes of dawn already tinted the horizon. Hong Li dropped the curtain, watching it sway and dance back to its place, and not for the first time, wished he'd followed another path and learnt to Drape. Instead of being locked inside this empty room, with nothing but the clamour of his thoughts to drive him mad, he could have travelled anywhere he liked.Anywhere in the world. Even a Hunstman's bedroom.

He put out the cigarette - a nasty habit he'd kept from his days at the Sinbijuui Haggyo, when he and Daejin used to hide in secluded rooms and empty toilet stalls for the sake of a smoke.Well, not just a smoke, was it? There was much to do, besides that. Much to do with their mouths and their hands.Shoving the memories to the back of his mind, he searched the clock on the nightstand, wondered if the wake had come to an end. Wondered how the Covenant was going to fare, now that they'd lost their Doyen. It wasn't the first time he'd had to finish one. As a Watchmen, he was to shoulder the task of supervising those who chose to hunt the night, no matter how high they stood in their close-knit society. No matter how despised he'd was, for putting an end to those who'd been tainted by the undead. He'd never been much of a killer, unlike Daejin, to whom the work of a Huntsman came naturally. Hong Li had never had a heart for that, and it was with sickening dread he approached his work - but he still performed it to his best capacities. Swift, painless blows, meant to cut suffering to a minimum.

He might hate taking a life, but he respected those who hunt the dead far too much to shy from his responsibilities. Which were to make sure an honourable end was given to those who roamed the night putting an end to the monsters that preyed on the innocent. He wouldn't let them become one of those creatures, if he could help it.And this was what Daejin still didn't understand.

The knock on the door came not so much as a distraction but a relief. Pulse racing, he wet his lips, smoothed the shirt of his pyjamas, patted his hair, checked his breath. Then, on naked, stumbling feet, he as good as lurched to the door, zombie-like on his staggering steps. Not even bothering to check who interrupted his rest at such an ungodly hour, Hong Li threw the door wide open. 

On the threshold, lit from above and behind - for he wasn't really standing under the harsh white ceiling lights - Kwan Daejin stared up at him. With a nod of his head, he marched inside, Hong Li closing the door on his back.He took a moment to study the Huntsman, stomach dancing with longing and the ache of separation. He'd changed from the soiled garments he'd been wearing on the hunt, the white singlet replaced with a black one. On his legs, chequered trousers clung so tight to his body Hong Li could see the definition of his muscles underneath them. The boots were the same, though, dry blood staining their toes. The previous mohawk had fainted into a mop of shoulder-length hair that hung limply, despite the garish rainbow of colours tinting it. He'd always stood in awe of Daejin's magical prowess, where it came to his hair. And whatever madness he did to it, always looked good on him.

Taking a step forward, he reached a hand to the Huntsman's shoulder, tugging at the leather jacket. If the Great Calamities had robbed the dwellers of this planet of many of their former scientific and technological advances, it had not taken away their vanity - and some people still put a lot of effort into their looks. Daejin had always been one of them. The Huntsman allowed him to take off the garment, which Hong Li placed upon the nearest chair. Then, and without wasting his breath with words, he dragged Daejin into his arms and reached for his mouth. 

Hands cupping the sides of the Huntsman's head, he rubbed the tips of his fingers against the shaved scalp, inching them up to curl through the long strands of hair. The air became heavy, lumbered with body heat and the moans drifting from empty spaces between the passionate kisses they shared. Not a word was spoken, though there was so much Hong Li longed to say, so many questions he let pile up in his head that he'd never found the courage to ask. Instead, he clung a little tighter to Daejin, whose hands fought the buttons of Hong Li's shirt, in an insistent attempt at getting him out of it. Once he deemed the opening wide enough to pass his head through, he reluctantly let go of Daejin's hair to snag his fingers around the shirt's hem and pull it off his back. Falling to the carpeted floor in a swish of satin, it trailed behind a flow of air that danced along his legs. For some unforeseen reason, it aroused him even more, and the hand that had ridden him of the shirt did not find its way back to Daejin's hair. Instead, it lurked around his hip, caressed his thigh, cupped a buttock in a tight grip. Daejin moaned, mouth stuck to the naked skin of Hong Li's collarbone. The rush of air was warm, rousing a wave of goosebumps on his arms.