Touches You; An Aya/Shigure fic

Note: ieresial has led me to beleive that if I don't post this strange, strange story that I wrote...while most certainly not sober. No one could write this sober. I own nothing.

"Gure-na!" Ayame's voice sang out loudly, bubbling over with childlike glee. "Dearest!"

"Ayame…!" Shigure was struck nearly speechless with shock at the sudden appearance of his friend, but recovered as Ayame flung his arms around his shoulders, pledging nonsensical declarations of love, lust, and everything in-between.

"My love!" Ayame placed a tempestuous kiss to Shigure's lips. "Don't speak any words, even words from your talented, luscious lips-wonderful words-will cheapen the exhilaratingly beautiful time we are about to share."

For one long, blood tingling moment, Shigure and Ayame's hands rested upon the belts that held each other's robes closed.

"What are you…oh…" The sliding door closed with a slam, jarring them out of their romantic encounter, and Shigure could feel Yuki's eyes boring a hole through his back. Scorching. And he didn't think it was just the feeling he always got while caught upon in the moment, intensified by being so close to Aya.

"Yuki," The name slid off of Shigure's tongue letter by letter. "I thought you went out?"

"I'm back." Yuki looked from Ayame to Shigure and settled on the dent in the wall that had been made earlier in the week when Kyo got in his way before he'd woken up properly. Stupid cat.

"I'm leaving." He turned toward the door, blinking away the painfully traumatizing image.

"Oh no!" Ayame detached himself from Shigure and lunged for his brother. "Little brother, don't go-stay-"

Yuki turned back to face his brother, his hand flying up on pure reflex and knocking Ayame to the ground in rejection of all things-all things that were too troubling to consider.

Oh, Shigure thought with a wince, the bittersweet sting of rejection. It was a good thing he was there to soothe the festering wounds.

"I'm leaving now." Yuki spoke to neither in particular, the dent in the wall in general. "I'll return when my eyes no longer bleed, and the scar tissue heals. I don't want to know anything. Good bye."

He slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Shigure pleasantly surprised to see that his house had made it through all of this intact. How wonderfully strange, it would be lovely if Yuki could make this a habit.

"Well," Shigure laughed, enjoying again the way it melded with Ayame's giggle so well. "It doesn't seem he'll be joining us."

"Oh…" Shigure sighed with a floaty air of dejection as Ayame pulled away from his lips, woefully bemoaning himself for chasing his brother away like he had-and not paying the least bit attention to his Gure-na.

It was almost too much for Shigure to bear.

"And there I've chased away another opportunity to reconcile!" Ayame cried dramatically falling to the seat of the couch, hysterical in tone.

"Oh my…" Shigure sighed a bit louder, chancing a glance at Ayame from where he paced the floor to see if he had his attention.

He did not.

"Oh, this cruel world is just too much!" Shigure flung himself back upon the settee, throwing his arm across his face, covering his eyes just enough so that there was a slit of visibility through which he could gauge Ayame's reaction. "Can't anyone love me?"

He sobbed, pushing on now that he saw he had Ayame's attention; he was no longer rambling about Yuki and brotherly reconciliation at the very least.

"No," He continued now that he had Ayame's full attention. "I'm a terrible, worthless, sort of creature. Who could love me? I'm not worth loving."

"Oh, but Gure-na," Ayame's long, slender, pale finger caressed his cheek, "That is not the case! Don't trample upon my heart with such…"

Ayame gasped, throwing his arms around Shigure.

"For I love you, I love you forever and until the stars fall out of the sky. I live for you. We'll never need run away-"

"Nor deny our passionate love for one another!" Shigure interjected enthusiastically, making a quick recovery from his despondency.

They embraced, dropping their robes, and falling to the couch together; kissing like it would be their last. They were as two thirsty men devouring their last glass of water.

"Enough." Hatori groaned deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose, and making a sincere wish for a cigarette.

He took a few steps forward; pulling on a handful of Ayame's lush, white locks, and turning the bright, smiling face toward his, sniffing judgmentally.

"You're drunk." He passed the judgment with a frown.

Ayame appeared to not have heard, or elected to ignore him.

"Ha'ri," he squealed gleefully, "You've come to join us!"

"Most indefinitely not." He tossed Ayame his robe, and turned to Shigure who was trying desperately; it seemed, to appear invisible. Normally Hatori would invite such a trait as a welcome change-not tonight, however.

"Shigure," Hatori's stern tone had Shigure fluttering his eyelashes innocently-it had occasionally gotten him out of trouble in his teenage years. "Stop that. You're sober."

"You have no proof of that." Shigure argued, "I can't be-"

"Do shut up." Hatori rubbed his temples feeling an emergent headache coming on. "Save the idiotic babbling for your editor and…"

Shigure's nakedness suddenly occurred to him.

"And clothe yourself!" Hatori considered, to his great horror, "What if Honda-san was to come home?"

Shigure twitched out of habit. He'd be in great pain should Yuki or Kyo find out.

"The blooming flower!" Ayame trilled loudly. "The sweet, succulent youth of femininity-"

Ayame gasped in horror, shock, and some pain. He looked at Hatori accusingly as a dull pain blossomed through his head.

"You struck me!"

Ayame's hands went to his hair, as if checking to make sure it was all still there. Shigure started to snicker, but thought better of it.

"You're both too old for this sort of foolishness." Hatori scolded them. "Come, Ayame. Mine has agreed to take care of you until you're in your right…state of sobriety."

Somehow, the phrase 'right state of mind', didn't seem to fit Aya.

"And leave me!" Shigure threw out all the stops in his personal drama, now that his audience had grown. "You'd both leave me so alone…"

Shigure sobbed, "So horrible alone…"

"Stop. It." Hatori glared at Shigure, pulling on Ayame collar to keep him where he was. He was, as always, un-amused with the act-most especially once Shigure clung to his suit jacket.

"I can't fathom…" he wrestled out of Shigure's grip, keeping his hold on Aya, "Three children in your care. They need a guardian like you like a case of meningitis."

Hatori shook his head. It just wasn't right. They needed a psychiatrist in the family. It was a shame that no one was qualified to become one-except for Honda-san, perhaps.

"Oh, Shigure," Ayame pulled out of Hatori's grip like a large and overexcited dog while he'd been distracted with his thoughts of Honda-san; and threw his arms around Shigure. "Despair not, my love, for I shall always-"

"Aya!" Hatori pointed toward the door, his tone stern and unwavering, with an unquestionable edge to it. "Go to the car. Sit in the passenger seat. Put on your seatbelt."

Ayame sighed, kissing Shigure on the cheek and slipping away.

"Give Yuki-kun my love," he sing-songed, dancing out the door.

Hatori followed slowly, stopping at the door and glancing back at Shigure.

"I'd say I'm surprised, but…" Hatori sighed again, looking his friend over. "I've known you too long. Finish your manuscript, that annoying editor of yours has taken to hounding me when you don't take her calls."

Shigure tittered. That was even better than he imagined. Maybe she'd take to stalking Yuki, Kyo, and Tohru next.

"Try to dress yourself before passing on Aya's love. I'm quite busy at the main house and can't run over here every time your perversity gets you in trouble."

Shigure sighed, pouting, and lit a cigarette.

"Anything else?" he asked.

Hatori plucked the desperately desired cigarette from Shigure's lips and placed it between his own.

"I'll be in touch."