Peaches [xxxHOLiC novella] COMPLETE

7. Moonlight

Kissing Dōmeki was an oddly alien but pleasant feeling. Dōmeki did not respond, but neither did he stop Watanuki. He seemed frozen, his eyes wide open and staring into Watanuki's own. Watanuki pulled back a bit.

"If you don't want me to..." he started, but Dōmeki didn't let him finish. As if snapping out of a trance, he kissed him back greedily, and Watanuki was vaguely surprised that the usually equanimous archer was capable of such passion. But he didn't have much time to dwell on this. After all, he had Dōmeki's lips again, and they were soft and delicious, sending an electric current through his body.

Tentatively at first, then more eagerly, their tongues slipped into the other's mouth, and they kissed deeply, moving toward one another with that very inevitability Yūko was so fond of. Dōmeki once again pulled him in close, except now they were even closer, bodies tightly pressed together. Watanuki could taste sake and the night on the other man's tongue, and something else, like a memory he once had. But whether it was a memory of the past or of the future he could not tell, since nothing but the present existed in that moment.

They broke off to catch some air, and for a while simply looked at one another without moving away, testing out the newness of it. The expression on Dōmeki's face was one that Watanuki had never seen before, lust perhaps, but also surprise, softened by something like tenderness... It was also the first time he saw him remotely out of breath, and he liked this slightly breathless, open-faced Dōmeki. Watanuki wanted to say something, but didn't know where to start. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling, exactly, but something inside him was turning with a wrenching, yet oddly sweet feeling. He smiled.

"Is this strange?" he asked, and felt heat rising to his face.

"Sort of," said Dōmeki, and smiled too. It was such a small smile, but considering the limited arsenal of his facial expressions, it counted, Watanuki thought, for a wide toothy grin.

Feeling bolder, Watanuki traced a finger along Dōmeki's collarbone, exposed by the wide neck of the yukata. His skin was warm, as if it were heated from the inside by a steady furnace. Dōmeki made a small sound in his throat, and Watanuki leaned in and let his lips travel tentatively along the other's neck, at first lightly, just hovering on the edge of touch, then more insistently, exploring the unfamiliar, sweetish taste of his skin, listening to the breath hitch in his throat. Dōmeki arched his head back, exposing more of the skin for him. He was leaning back as Watanuki was slowly shifting his weight, coming to rest gingerly against Dōmeki's broad chest. He was aware of their bodies separated by nothing than two layers of thin, slippery cotton. Having reached the hairline at the back of the neck, Watanuki trailed his lips back down towards the collarbone, and slowly started making his way along the exposed flesh at the collar, when Dōmeki reached over and tilted his chin back up. For a moment he studied Watanuki's face, as if trying to confirm something.

"What is it?" asked Watanuki quietly.

"Is this a dream?" said Dōmeki. His tone was neutral, even soft, but something about it cut Watanuki to the bone, and he could taste deep, wild longing welling up within him. He wasn't sure if it was his own feeling or Dōmeki's, only that it was raw, and true.

"It is, but we are both dreaming it," he said, surprised by his own reply. It was true. Were they going to regret this? He couldn't know. It was both totally new and somehow inevitable, he could see that now. Dōmeki, meanwhile, kept his gaze steady, though his expression was softer than usual, then he lightly pushed them back up to a sitting position.

"I want to remember," he said. Watanuki understood. There was a chance one, or both of them, will not remember this, considering why they were here. He thought of something Yūko said once, about the kinds of memories the body forms.

"The body will remember, even if the mind forgets," he whispered, reaching for the sake.

Watanuki poured them both a glass, and the taste of the liquor mingled with the taste of Dōmeki's skin and tongue in his mouth. The silvery moonlight lent a sense of irreality to the scene, and he felt his vision blur a little, just as it was when he first came to.

He was just about to comment on that as he caught a whiff of the now familiar scent of peaches in the room. Ah yes, he thought. That. He had almost forgotten.

"Can you smell that?" he asked Dōmeki, but the other man only frowned.

"What is it?"

"Hmmm... To me, it smells like peaches. But it is possible you smell something else. I think we shall have a guest soon."

Dōmeki gave him a look, then sniffed the air. "Something smells like... Chocolate?"

There were other changes in the room. The darkness in the door frame leading into the interior of the house became alive, a swirling pool of shadows. Chocolate, huh... Watanuki smiled to himself. He could have guessed. Dōmeki had a sweet tooth which was rather surprising in someone of his demeanour. But that was beside the point.

Watanuki got up, and, straightening his robe, walked to the doorway. "Hmm... this place might actually listen better to you, than to me," he said, probing the darkness with his fingers, which felt cool, and a little thicker than the air around him, as if it were dense fog. "Do you remember what the hallways of your uncle's place looked like? You don't need to describe them, but can you picture it?"

Dōmeki hesitated a bit, then nodded. He closed his eyes, evidently concentrating. The living shadows seemed to first swirl a little faster, then began receding, exposing a polished wood-panelled floor and eventually giving way onto a hallway.

"This will do," said Watanuki, "Let's go. Soon we won't be able to stay awake."

The air in the dream was condensing like fog. This time, Watanuki was the one to shake Dōmeki's shoulder. Having made sure he was fully aware, he led the way out of the room. They walked down the dark hallway some distance, until they came to another door, and when Watanuki tried the screen, it slid easily ajar. This room was smaller than the first, with only some cushions and a large vase in a corner. They went inside, and Watanuki slid the screen shut behind them.

"I... don't think there was a room like that at my uncle's house," Dōmeki said, sounding unsure.

"Indeed, I doubt there would have been," confirmed Watanuki, "I prepared this room before we left, in case my suspicions proved correct. Sorry I didn't warn you, but it wouldn't have worked otherwise. I'll explain later, but please, do not leave here. It's very important." Watanuki's voice was urgent, and Dōmeki reluctantly nodded.

"Where are you going?" he asked, a little grimly.

"Back to the first room. I've a client to meet... Or should I say, her sleeping spirit. I rather she didn't know you were here, or that this is really your dream..." Dōmeki raised his eyebrows in surprise, but Watanuki held up his hand to stop him from asking anything else. "Remember, if anything happens, all you need to do is wake up. If one of us is awake, that will be enough; it will take us both back."

"How do I do that?"

"I'm not sure," said Watanuki breezily. "You'll figure it out. But remember. This room here is real, and she won't be able to play with you here. Please," he said with as much emphasis as he could, "don't leave this room." Watanuki hesitated, then reached out his hand and traced a finger along the archer's jawbone. Dōmeki seemed surprised, but also a little pleased.

"Come back," was the only thing he said.

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What do you guys think? Are they going to get out of this in one piece, and live to make out another day? I'd love to hear from you! If you like the story, please vote and comment :)

Cover image from xxxHOLiC Rou OVA.