Author's Note: This is my first DoA2 fanfic (the title actually has nothing to do with the story, it just sounded neat). Shounen-ai, yaoi (*technically*, Ein/Hayate would be the seme, as he’s taller and heavier than Hayabusa. But then again, in both DoA games, they didn't really expand on the story or the characters personality, especially the first game! No story whatsoever), so *far* a PWP (Plot-What-Plot?) and fluff-ish. Just to explain, shounen-ai is romantic boy/boy relationships. Yaoi is sexual boy/relationships (this one qualifies as a june though). If you happen to not approve of that sort of thing (or are too young), you should not want to read this. Fluff refers to a relatively warm, fuzzy feeling. This story so far doesn't have much of a plot, just as a warning. But there is some relatively explicit sex scenes, so...hence the NC-17 rating (it's not as graphic as, well, say Madamhydra's work *bows in homage to one of her favorite fanfic writers*).

Disclaimer: I’m not Tecmo! I’m not suing material. All I’ve got on me is digital watch that doesn’t even cost thirty dollars! I wanna keep it! I grovel with humiliation so I don’t lose my only time-keeping device!

Abstract Nowhere

By Famira Damaris


Lo, see the cherry trees that stand in the morning mist,
I hear them speak to me in a tender tone,
In the eve I love to see the waving willows,
They stretch their hands to me strolling alone.

Oh, see the hazy moon rising o'er the banks,
Rows of cherry trees standing o'er the stream,
How I love the cherry blossoms in the moonlight!
How can I describe for you the night like in a dream?

-- Japanese nursery song, “Cherry Blossoms”


Hard to imagine that it had been only one year since the end of the second Dead or Alive World Combat Championship. [One year. It’s seemed like so much longer…] Ryu Hayabusa reflected. The shinobi was lying on his back under a blooming cherry tree, his head resting on folded arms, doing nothing except stare up into the pink blossoms on the branches with narrowed green eyes. [One year since the end] It made one wonder what had become of the other fighters in the tournament; each had been such a vivid personality, it was hard to imagine that they could settle back into a “normal” life style. He himself was suddenly at a loss of what to do, now that he no longer had to fight. [Such negativity] He concentrated on the beauty of his surroundings instead. [It’s been such a long time since I’ve had a chance to just sit back and look around myself…]

A heart-shaped petal settled gently on the tip of his nose. Ryu shook his head slightly, letting the pink blossom slide away into the grass, closing emerald eyes against the warm rays of light shining through the tree’s branches. He no longer had to keep an eye on Kasumi; though the girl had shown terrible conduct during the tournament, she hadn’t been punished by the other shinobi…yet. [Ayane’s probably still trying to settle the score between them] Becoming a “run-away shinobi” like that hadn’t been an impulsive decision, though. She, like Hayabusa, cared for Hayate, and had joined the tournament to try to find him. [But why do I worry about such things?] Brother and sister were now reunited; it was basically a happy ending. He hadn’t seen the two for quite awhile; the last time he had spotted them walking together along the streets in Tokyo, though they hadn’t seen him. That had been quite some time ago, however. He still thought of them, even though a year had passed.

Hayate…he was the one that Ryu had thought about the most.


Ryu’s emerald eyes flared open in surprise. How anyone could have snuck up on him was beyond the martial artist. But he recognized the voice and it became clear. Only another shinobi could sneak up on him like the speaker had done. He sat up, gazing with open surprise on his tanned face at the tall, lithe form of Hayate leaning against the tree trunk looking down at him with the same focused expression he remembered. [Hayate? What’s he doing here?!] Despite his surprise, he had to admit he was very relieved to see the karate master again.

“Hayate! I thought you were in Tokyo!” The shinobi forced down his astonishment.

“I was. It’s been awhile, Hayabusa,” the beginnings of a smile from his old friend, “Besides, I came here to see someone.”


Hayate reached a hand out to help the shinobi to his feet, all together ignoring the question. Ryu stood up, choosing not to press the question; he already knew that the other wouldn’t give up any answers if he didn’t want to. He stood up, brushing away the pink petals away from his clothing. He was extremely curious about his friend’s reasons for coming, but supposed he’d probably tell him at a later time. [Why the hell am I so damn *happy* to see Hayate?] He did his best to hide his emotions, keeping his face stern as usual.

Hayate headed down the tranquil park’s path after the shinobi, keeping pace with him easily. Their surroundings were small, but comfortable: no people besides the two martial artists in the park today.

“I’ve started a karate school,” Hayate said conversationally, “So far, I have thirteen students enrolled.”

“How does it fare?” Hayabusa asked. He tried to seem like he was genuinely curious in the state of the karate school, but… [I’m wondering how *you* have been faring all this time] He snuck a glance at the other, and almost stumbled in his sudden fascination at the strong, determined profile of the martial artist. He tore his eyes away, feeling guilty for his lack of control. […Show more control!] Another mental reprimand [Anyone would find your poor conduct to be laughable] He stared straight ahead, carefully keeping his eyes away from the karate master. Best not make a fool of himself anymore then he already had. He could only hope that his best friend hadn’t seen his obvious blunder.

“Good, I suppose. I took off some time ago, though. Lei-fang and Jann Lee are watching the dojo while I’m away.”

“Jann Lee came…?” A strange emotion, which was squashed down. Jealously?

Hayate shot him a strange expression, “He just showed up at the dojo’s doors one day. He decided Lei-fang and he still had a thing or two that they could teach the students. So they’re the heads of the school while I’m away.”

“Oh. I take it Jann Lee didn’t think you were teaching them well enough?”

“Yeah. Lei-fang agreed with him on the spot. First thing they ever agreed on.”

“I see.”

An awkward silence. He had grown used to Kasumi’s perky voice chiming in during these gaps in the conversation…but she wasn’t here now. She had grown up, and, like all girls, didn’t need his help any more. Hayate was probably uncomfortable as well. [Am I really that boring?] He glanced sideways once more at Hayate, and found the other to be staring at him. The shinobi looked away quickly, his heart racing for no reason that he could explain. […I’m making a fool of myself. I’m such an idiot…]

Hayate spoke up, “Kasumi misses you.”

“She no longer needs my help.”

“Still…” the karate master sighed, “Never mind. Aren’t you worried that the shinobi tribe might still be after her blood?”

“She’ll be fine, I’m sure. I sent word to the shinobi some time ago, but I haven’t received any message from them yet.” Hayabusa shook his head. [And until then, I have nothing to do. I don’t even know if I will ever receive word from them. They’re so secretive…and I might as well have labeled myself as a “run-away” by entering the tournament and helping his sister…] He kept this to himself, keeping his face neutral. [I don’t know what to do now…]

“I didn’t think you’d get any word from them. I was right after all.”

Ryu didn’t reply. [How can you be so sure about everything? Haven’t you ever been lost without a goal?]


He could only stare in sharp shock at the young man standing across from him. He couldn’t believe his eyes were seeing what they were. Hayate.

“You…you…couldn’t be…”

His opponent made no reply. There was no recognition in his dark brown eyes as he shifted his stance into that for karate, raising his fists. [Th-that’s not ninjitsu! Where’d he learn karate?] Hayabusa had no choice but to adopt his own fighting stance. The two were the only ones in the cathedral tower. Ryu waited for Hayate to say something, to remember anything. But there was no reaction. He hadn’t known before whom his opponent was, only the projected nationality: German. But why would he say he was of that nationality? His friend was no more German than Hayabusa himself was. So why call himself Ein from Germany?

Hayate began to circle around the shinobi slowly, regarding the other coolly. Ryu watched his friend warily. He clearly intended to win this match, to be the victor of the championship. [But so do I. I must face the Bankotsubo; it’s my destiny to defeat all evil] Hayate wouldn’t hold anything back - that was obvious. [I must not either. I’ll give it all I possibly can to face the evil Tengu] He felt sad, however, that he’d had have to chose between his friendship and victory. [But…] He wasn’t able to finish the doubt-filled thought.

Ein struck the first blow.

He charged, closing the distance between them so quickly that it was all Ryu could do to raise his arms up to block against the downward slashing kick. The shinobi rocked backward from the power of the blow, as one of the arm guards cracked away, having shattered under the strike. Hayabusa ignored the sharp stinging in his wrist, ignored the warmth of the blood from the gash made by the broken armor welling up through the cloth.

“Hayate!” The shinobi recovered from his surprise, and returned his own series of kicks, dropping to a crouch and sweeping at his friend’s ankles with his legs. Ein staggered, sent to his knees. His dark brown eyes looked up coolly as he lost his balance. Hayabusa slashed forward with a fist at Ein’s head, watching in a slow type of surprise as a pair of hands wrapped around his wrist with inhuman speed. The world sudden flipped over as he felt himself suddenly flying through the air.

He hit the ground with a nauseating thud, seeing stars as he hit the cathedral’s stone floor hard. He was stunned for a brief moment, spotting his opponent standing defensively a few feet away. [Shit, he’s so fast! I’ve got to push myself to win!] He gathered his energy, and sprang off the ground. He landed on his hands in a stiff handstand, swinging out with his feet at Ein. He felt something connect, and rolled to his feet, once again adopting his fighting stance.

Ein was fixing a glare at him, wiping away crimson blood that had begun to trickle down the corner of his mouth.

“Hayate! I’ve kept my promise to you!” Ryu said. He had to remember! “Kasumi is safe, so why are you still fighting?”

Ein didn’t reply, instead racing forward. The shinobi started to retaliate, a fist lashing out toward his opponent. He realized his blunder as his arm contacted with only air. He didn’t even have a chance to turn around, feeling a sudden weight rolling across his back. The on-coming kick to his shoulder blades sent him sprawling on the ground. His left shoulder felt like it was on fire, burning with pain, then suddenly went numb. A fracture? He couldn’t tell.

It took longer to get to his feet. Each blow was inhumanly powerful; his whole body was aching. He was starting to doubt his chances of victory. He regarded his friend – to his horror, the other wasn’t even out breathing hard.

“Hayate, what’s wrong with you?! What about your sister!”

He already knew he wouldn’t be able to talk any sense or reason into Ein; but he had to at least try.

“…I don’t have a sister, shinobi. I don’t know you,” a snarl, “So just shut up!” He advanced, his fists striking rapidly at Hayabusa mercilessly. Ryu backed away, trying to block, but despite his measures, he was struck several times, quickly forced toward the wall he could sense behind him.

A kick to his chest sent him reeling against the wall, stumbling back onto his knees. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, and he caught a glimpse of the wall behind him. He cursed mentally; it was only a fragile window of stained glass, a kaleidoscope of colors. Just a thin pane of glass between him and the outside. Hayabusa leaned heavily against it; no matter how much he tried to get to his feet, his body would fail to respond, and he could only manage to inch himself up the delicate stained glass window. He glanced up with clouded green eyes.

Ein was standing over him, a black avenging shadow that had only the will to fight on and the wish to finish the battle quickly. Still no recognition. Ryu knew he was defeated; Hayate had improved greatly since the last time he had fought, and had beaten him easily. Ryu knew he wouldn’t face his destiny, to defeat the source of evil. At least he had stopped Kasumi from progressing any further in the tournament…

Ein’s hand shot out, and grabbed a fistful of the shinobi’s black tunic. Hayabusa was dragged abruptly to his feet, hauled close to his opponent’s chest. He gasped for air; Hayate was twisting his shirt in such a way that it was starting to cut off his air supply. He couldn’t fight loose of his opponent’s grip, seeing his image reflected in the mirror-like eyes of Ein. Hayate…

He hardly felt the double blows against his shoulder and his chest; he was only aware of the powerful force hitting him like a train. He felt himself flying backward, the window shattering under his weight. Ryu was flung into empty space, the shards of colored glass a sparkling blizzard around him. He could feel himself succumbing to gravity and falling. [What happened to you, Hayate? How could you have forgotten us? Kasumi…myself…] His back was to the ground: probably a good thing, that. He wouldn’t have to see the ground rushing up or see how far he’d plummet before he’d hit. In the distance, he could see the black figure that was Ein of Germany receding, standing on the broken window. Staring down at him. A brief pang of shame. [I’ll never fulfill my des-]

He hit the ground hard then, his breath bursting out of him. Darkness was gathering behind his eyes; he was completely defeated. He was passing out quickly: the last thing he saw before oblivion was the dark shadow of Ein leaping after him.

He hadn’t ever faced Bankotsubo. He hadn’t risen to challenge his fate.


“I’m only living here temporarily until I receive word from the shinobi,” Ryu said. He glanced about the small apartment, saw everything was in order, and gestured Hayate in. He noticed his friend looking about with mild surprise: he probably hadn’t expected him to be living out in “modern” housing. [I guess we shinobi aren’t as terribly old-fashioned as some people like to think] He thought wryly. The apartment wasn’t very big – but then again, he hadn’t been planning on anyone coming to see him. He flicked a look out the window: almost evening, the sun setting in a fiery blaze across the purple and pink of the sky. Hayate and he had spent longer than he had thought reminiscing on the past. He hadn’t noticed how late it was getting.

“I’ve never planned on having people over,” Hayabusa told his friend upon seeing him glancing about at the sparse furnishings, “No one’s ever visited me before.”

“…I guess I’m the first, then.” Hayate sat down, at Ryu’s gesture, onto the single couch in the room. The shinobi sat down next to him, after seeing that he was reasonably settled in.

More silence.

“Why don’t you come back with me?” Hayate broke the silence, “We haven’t seen you ever since I won the DoA2 tournament. You vanished on us.”

Hayabusa stared down at his hands; bare now, without any wrist armor guards, “I fulfilled my promise, that’s all.” [I had some things I still need to sort out, actually], “Besides, I’d think by now that your family would be sick of my presence continuing to haunt you.”


“Is able to defend herself now. She no longer needs my protection. I’m not needed any longer,” Ryu replied, continuing with unspoken words. [I had allowed myself to become caught up with your family. I did the best I could to protect your sister; something I did with a zeal. But now she’s old enough to not require my aid] This wasn’t anything new – he had recognized this when he had seen how happy Kasumi was when she had been reunited with her brother, how she had smiled so easily. She had rarely smiled when Hayate had disappeared, when it had been just the little sister and the shinobi. [I gave everything I could into keeping her safe, just for you, because you wanted me to make that promise. But now I don’t know what to do. That had been my goal to put all my efforts into, to prevent any harm from coming to her…and now I have nothing to focus on. I suppose you could say I’m lost without a path to follow. You used to tell me that before the first DoA championship]

At the sound of his best friend’s tone, and a comforting hand on his shoulder, Hayabusa looked up. A wistful expression was on the young Japanese man’s face.

“I’d hardly say that was true.”

“What do you mean?” Ryu asked. What was he getting at?

“People always need protection,” the faintest glimmer of a smile from Hayate, “Take me, for example.”

“You? In need of protection!” Hayabusa laughed. Hayate, of all people, wanting protection, was just ridiculous, especially when his best friend was asking it of him! He had to be joking; the very idea was just too ludicrous. He hadn’t known his friend was one to tell such jokes before. The shinobi spoke up once his chuckles started to die down, “Assuming you did need protection. Why would you decide that I was the one right for playing bodyguard?”

The other shinobi’s face was serious once again, “You’re right. Kasumi is certainly capable enough, and I can take care of myself. But what about you?”

“Me?” [What’s he trying to say? Whatever it is, he’s losing me]

“You’re at a loss of what to do now. Kasumi told me how you did everything you could to protect her,” Hayate fixed a focused stare on Ryu, “You gave it all you could to keep the promise between us…and now you’re without a goal. You don’t have a straight path to follow: you’re lost. I’m giving you one right now. Will you promise to protect me?”

He didn’t know what Hayate was trying to point out, but he was still his best friend. He had sworn to help him in whatever way he could, at any time.

“I promise you with my life.”

His best friend didn’t blink, “No, that’s not what I want you to promise me.”

“Well, what do you want me to promise? There’s nothing more I can give.” Hayabusa’s confusion was showing on his normally stern face.

Hayate sighed, “I don’t want your life. This isn’t like old times, Ryu.”

“Ryu”? This was the first time that he had been called by his first name, not the plain “Hayabusa” usually used by Hayate.

“I want you…” he cut off, and shook his head, looking away for a moment before returning his eyes on Ryu. He gathered himself, and, as if he was going take on a hard task, started again, “Promise…promise me your love.”

Hayabusa could only stare in heavy shock at his best friend. He…loved…? [This can’t be real! My friend…] He was having a hard time thinking, pressured by the unreadable expression in Hayate’s probing eyes. [But…I…] The thoughts would come, only to swirl away in confusion. [When did this come all about? He can’t be joking] Did he feel the same? How did the laws of the shinobi regard this? [Do I have anything to give? I can’t promise something that I’m not certain I have] That thought, too, was whisked away. [I don’t want to lie] Whisk. [What about Kasumi? I…don’t think I loved her in that way. More like a little sibling] Whisk. Gone. [Hayate…how could you know how lost and useless I feel? Is that what you’re trying to say? That you care for me, not only as a friend, but as something more?] Held onto the thought for a tenacious moment, lost it. Whisk. [What do I feel?] He had always felt so discarded whenever Hayate had turned his attention on someone else, had so selfishly wanted him to be giving him his attention. Whisk. [What am I going to say?]

But deep down, he had always known, no matter how much he had hedged around it.

“…I…promise you with my love.”

Hayate’s face was flooded with startling joy. He beamed – an action uncharacteristic for him, as he rarely smiled. [This…can’t be real. Hayate is…smiling. I never thought I’d ever see him smile again…] The fact that he was smiling at him was not lost on Hayabusa.

“I didn’t know what you’d say, Ryu,” Hayate said, suddenly becoming emotional, “But I wanted to know. I’ve been alone all those years, too blind to see that the one I was searching for was at my side the whole time.”

The shinobi was becoming giddy from all happiness. [This feels so right, to be making him happy] He did love him. He hadn’t made a mistake: only now was it becoming obvious, as Hayabusa had suppressed his emotions so he could fulfill his promises. For years, he had kept in the shadows, to the sidelines (to use the “modern” terminology). [How could I have been so narrow-minded? I had thought duty to be the one thing in my life…] Duty didn’t have to be everything: he had always assumed it was so. Ryu felt like hugging someone in his own happiness.

So he did just that. He suddenly wrapped his arms around Hayate.

“Thank you,” he choked. He could feel his friend’s muscular arms wrapping around his shoulders. No longer lost. No longer obsessed with fulfilling a goal and blind to everything else. He was still a shinobi at heart, but now he decided that duty wouldn’t take priority over his emotions. […I was oppressing myself without reason…and Hayate came when I needed him] Ryu no longer felt lonely, no longer felt unneeded and useless.

“Ryu…” Hayate murmured into his neck, causing a shiver from the warm breath touching Hayabusa’s bare neck to pass through the shinobi’s body. He had long ago stopped parading about in the uniform of the shinobi. Hayate was so close to Ryu; he could feel the martial artist’s heart beating faintly.

He suddenly wanted Hayate. [Am I so insecure that I need to have him not only in soul, but in body too?] But dammit, the idea of Hayate with…

His friend seemed to be having similar thoughts. He slowly disengaged himself from Ryu’s embrace, and held out a hand to help him off the couch. The shinobi took it, in a delighted sort of daze. Hayate asked him where his bedroom was. He heard himself answer back, felt himself being gently led to the small little room with meager lighting. He was becoming aware of how empty his life had been, how he had always been the one that had to play the leader, the one that had to pretend he knew what he was doing. It felt good to have someone else taking Hayabusa by his hand and leading him for once. He didn’t have to stand by himself. Didn’t have to try to do everything himself anymore. He would protect Hayate, like he had promised. [And Hayate…he will do the same. Not only are we friends, now. It wasn’t comradeship that I had wanted…no, I wanted someone that would truly care]

The first feathery light kiss on his cheek jolted him back to reality. They were both sitting on his simple bed, his hands resting in Hayate’s slightly larger ones. There was a pleasant sensation coming from them, for the young Japanese martial artist was massaging his fingers slowly, his lips still on Hayabusa’s cheek. Ryu turned his head, returning the gesture, closing his eyes as he felt one of Hayate’s hands move to the back of his head. The ties that had kept his chestnut hair pulled back into a trailing ponytail fell away: he could feel his hair drape down his back. Hayate had pulled away again, leaving Ryu with a pang of disappointment.

“I-this…is alright with you?” Hayate sounded concerned. What was he so worried about? That he’d suddenly reject him?

“…It’s alright,” Hayabusa answered. He gave a tentative smile. [Even if I’ve never done this before…] The shinobi felt better once he saw that the other was relaxing. Good. [I want you to be happy. That’s why I made that promise to protect your little sister…only for you…] He had been so stupid in the past…

Hayate leaned over Ryu, slowly pushing the both of them over onto the bed. The shorter shinobi craned his head forward, pressing his lips to the Japanese man’s neck. Hayate returned the kisses, on his mouth and neck, his wonderful brown eyes closed. Ryu caressed the nape of the other’s neck, his fingers roving lazily. […I love you…] He closed his eyes, savoring Hayate’s skin against his mouth. Long fingers were weaving themselves through his hair reverently, teasing the ends. One of the Japanese man’s hands was tracing down his cheek to his chin, traveling down his neck and passing lightly over his collarbone. He himself was pressing up toward the strong body cradling him, his fingers passing over the other's shoulders. […Hayate…] Neither hurried, each taking his time in enjoying the other’s presence.

They exchanged no words to each other. There was only silence, as each found comfort in each other.

Hayate kissed him under his chin: cautiously touched his neck with the tip of his tongue. Hayabusa shuddered, heat rising up throughout his entire body. Restraint. Hayabusa had to have some, didn’t he? The shinobi hesitated, and the other young man paused in his blanket of kisses.

“…Nothing’s wrong,” Ryu told his newfound lover before he could ask questions.

Hayate smiled warmly down at him, “That’s good then. I was wondering if you’d tire of me so soon.”

Quiet laughter from the shinobi, “No!” He kissed Hayate firmly on the mouth for emphasis, pulling away only for a breath of fresh air, “The word ‘restraint’ just popped into my head. I’m too restrained and uptight, aren’t I?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say ‘uptight’. Restrained, yes, but hardly uptight. Restraint is one of the traits of a true shinobi.”

“I never thought of it that way.”

Hayate leaned his warm forehead against Ryu’s, chuckling.

“Why ask me about restraint? I’m not always the best person to ask such questions.”

Another kiss, this time from Hayate.

“……...” Hayabusa closed his eyes, liking the way that his friend’s auburn hair brushed across his shut eyes. It was softer than it looked, “Am I restraining myself?”

“Do you think you are?” Gently, without trying to pressure him.

Ryu sighed. [Yes. Always am, always was. I don’t want to have restraint right now. I’m getting so very sick of it] He nodded.

“Do you want me to leave? I can come tomorrow if you want me to.”


“You need some time to think about it?” Hayate propped himself on his elbow, his denim jacket rustling quietly, allowing Hayabusa to sit up.

“Yes,” Ryu toyed with the rumpled sheets. He looked up as the taller martial artist got off the bed, standing up. Where was he going?

“Would it be alright if I stayed the night?” Hayate straightened his shirt, turning toward Hayabusa. Hayabusa nodded, “I’m going to get my things, then. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright.” Hayabusa watched as Hayate closed the door to the bedroom. He nestled himself against the simple pillows of his bed, turning his head to face the window. Moonlight was passing through the glass, hazy clouds drifting past the glimmering white surface. [I can wait] The shinobi closed his eyes. The room seemed too big, too empty now that Hayate had left. [But he’s going to come back] He smiled into the darkness: it felt good to know that he was needed, better to feel that he had come upon an answer. The shinobi felt badly that he was still so restrained, but he knew Hayate would be understanding.

[I’m so predictable. I’ve always been the one to follow the mind and not the heart.]

A yawn. It wasn’t that late, he knew, but for some reason, he was tired. Couldn’t explain why. Another yawn.

[Maybe I should do what I feel instead of what I think…?]


Hayabusa woke up in degrees. He was sprawled on the bed, his cheek mashed into the pillow, his hair draping itself around his shoulders. Something had waked him up: he was generally a light sleeper. The shinobi raised his head, straining his ears. Water running. He pushed his trailing hair over his shoulder, sitting up. Someone had thoughtfully covered him with a blanket, he noticed. The moon was still out, obscured momentarily by a bank of fleecy night clouds. Ryu padded away from the bed, listening again. Definitely water running. Where? The shower? [Hayate?]

Had to be.

The shinobi carefully picked his way through the dark room. It would be extremely stupid on his part if he were to trip on something merely because he was in a hurry to see if Hayate was back already. [I couldn’t have been asleep for more than half an hour] His biological clock was usually on the mark: he judged himself to be good at estimating the time. So Hayate had probably just gotten back.

[Maybe I should take a shower too? I was lying down on the ground today getting all dirty after all. But I should probably wait until Hayate’s done…] But his body was acting of its own accord now, approaching the closed bathroom door. The water kept running, as he started to turn the knob.


Muffled voice from behind the distorted sliding shower doors, “Yes?” One of the doors slid open, Hayate’s head poking out, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I wasn’t planning on falling asleep like that,” Hayabusa offered a small smile, ducking his head. He closed the door after him, taking a seat on the toilet.

Hayate paused, “Did you want to use the shower?”

“…I can wait.”

Hayate held out his hand, shaking his head.

“Tch. Why don’t you use it now?” He said, the large brown eyes unblinking.

“But…you’re using it.” Hayabusa took the opportunity to stare in appreciation at the top half of Hayate’s still wet body. [Still…] Any excuse…

“You can use it now,” the beginning of a smile, “Come on, I’ll help you.”

Hayabusa hesitated for a second. [What the hell. I’m sick of doing what I think is right. I should stop thinking and just feel…], “Alright.” [From this moment, act by feeling. Stop thinking.] He told himself. Or he’d start restraining himself again.

He stepped into the small tiled confines of the shower, leaving his clothes in neat pile on the toilet seat. The water was wonderfully warm, a gentle spray of heat. Crowded, a little, with the two of them, the steam rising up to a ceiling like some type of sauna. Through the mist, Hayate bent down, and lathered soap into his hand. He started to wash the shinobi, starting from his shoulders, facing him.

“You’re so stiff; relax!” Hayate told him, kneading the soap with his hands into the tensed muscles of Hayabusa’s shoulders. Ryu tried to comply as best he could. [It feels so strange to not be doing this myself…] He half-closed his eyes as he felt the pleasant sensations rising from his shoulders as the muscles became lax. Hayate had done this before, apparently. […he’s so different once he chooses to reveal his true side…] Ryu felt a surge of affection for his friend – now his lover.

As Hayate’s hands started to travel down his bare back, Hayabusa slowly cupped his face in his hands, kissing him on the mouth. Hayate faltered in his administrations for a moment, then returned the kiss, pressing into it, still massaging the shinobi’s bare skin. As Ryu’s hands were free at the moment, he decided to make use of them; he ran his fingers around Hayate’s chest tenderly, slipping over the strong contours, loving the way the water splashed on the muscles. One of the Japanese man’s hands was traveling up his back again, sending thrills through out his body. The other continued further down, eliciting an almost inaudible gasp from the shinobi. He clamped down on the urge to moan, instead running one hand through the damp auburn hair, another starting to imitate Hayate's: he was a bit pleased to get a similar reaction from the taller man.

“…Love you,” a husky whisper through the thick steam. Hayabusa felt the wet strains of hair brushing his face as Hayate’s mouth started working itself down his neck and his slick chest, sucking gently. Ryu showered kisses onto the taller man’s body: on his chest, his chin, and his mouth. Every part of him seemed so perfect, “…Ryu Hayabusa…”

He had lost track of the other hand. Waves of pure pleasure were vibrating through him from his rear – something having to do with the hand that wasn’t caressing his face as he was caressing the other’s body. He opened his mouth, and took one of Hayate’s fingers in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it as the rest of the fingers continued to feel the skin around his chin in slow circles. The shinobi’s own hands were roving their way down Hayate’s body, exploring without haste. His eyes were slitted, but he could see that Hayate wasn’t unoccupied. The running water’s dim roar drowned out everything but the two of them.

Hayate started to kneel down, Ryu following. The shinobi soon was sitting on the other’s naked lap, his hair a curtain that was hanging down in the sprinkling water. The taste of his skin was sweet and musky, not something he had expected. He could feel Hayate’s cock stiffening, felt it brush against his thigh. He felt his own erection at another contact, this time against the sensitive skin of his inner leg. Another wave of pleasure. He was becoming light-headed from it, staring down at the young man underneath him.

He involuntarily convulsed when it started to hurt…

Fiery pain was erupting from between his legs. His hands clenched against Hayate as the lances continued to pierce him. Painfirepainfirepainpainfire. Something moving about within him.

And suddenly it was over.

Ryu stopped clutching at Hayate, as the harsh pain was replaced with another sensation. Pure pleasure. He was in heaven. He only dimly felt Hayate inside him, pushing, probing, only felt the ecstasy coursing through him. His green eyes were rolling back: he himself was brimming, feeling the pleasure rising as their hips grinded against each other. He couldn’t form any thoughts: too far-gone for it. At first, he had tried to take in the sensations, to study them. But they overwhelmed him, pounding over and over, washing away any thoughts, everything but the pleasurable pulsing. The pleasure kept rising, impossibly, and he felt as if he was drowning in it. He could hear strange ragged pants: he didn’t recognize his own voice. He felt like he could pass out from the sheer ecstasy; there was simply too much for him to withstand. He had to release the sensations that were pent up inside him. They were building to an unbearable level.

He climaxed.

Instant bliss. The shinobi sagged against Hayate, as he floated in a haze. The pleasure was still there, but it was no longer as pressing: bearable now. A dull rocking, relaxing like a boat in a peaceful ocean. This was truly heaven. He could still feel Hayate’s cock inside him, still could feel Hayate’s slightest movements. He felt exhausted and drained. The warm water was still splashing down on the both of them. Hayabusa could feel the pleasant pulsing start to die down, and the only sounds that could be heard over the shower were his little moans and Hayate’s grunts.

A minute passed as they lay together, the steam rising in little curling fingers around them.

“…T-thank you, Ryu,” Hayate said finally, his breath still catching up.

Ryu rested his head against the other’s slick chest, smiled. More silence, as the others just rested in each other’s comfortable presence. The water was starting to turn cold.

“One of us should turn that off…”

Hayabusa sighed reluctantly, “I’ll do it.” He slowly disengaged himself from the martial artist under him, and, reaching up, shut off the water. He turned back to Hayate. Both were sweating still. The shinobi snuggled up next to his friend, resting his head on the other’s broad shoulder as the other began idly to pass his hand through Ryu’s wet brown hair. It felt nice to just sit in the shower with his lover: he sort of wanted to go to sleep, but just being with Hayate was nice enough.

“You know…the only reason I came here was for you.” Hayate murmured into his ear.

Life was good.


They had done it again, this time in his bedroom. A little more passionate this time, but just as pleasurable. Hayate had fallen asleep not long after: even he hadn’t the stamina for this sort of thing. Hayabusa was left awake, lying next to the handsome martial artist on his bed. He smiled into the darkness. [Hayate, Hayate, Hayate] He glanced over his shoulder in amusement at the poor karate master. The young man was on his back, his lovely hair mussed, his breathing slow, and completely worn out. [I didn’t think he was the type that snores. At least he’s quiet.] A surge of affection. Hayate was his now, and vice versa.

Though Hayate probably didn’t think of him like that.

“…Love you.” Ryu whispered to Hayate, testing the word. It rolled off the tongue: felt only natural to say. The sleeping martial artist, of course, didn’t respond, still snoring softly. The shinobi glanced out the window. The cherry trees outside his window were illuminated by the large moon outside, their fragile pink blossoms catching the light and turning a bir. He smiled again, turning toward his sleepy lover. The shinobi snuggled against Hayate, still amazed and pleased by the turn of events.

“…How can I describe to you a night like in a dream?” Hayabusa said quietly, remembering an old nursery rhyme. He kissed the other’s cheek, and curled up next to his warm shoulder, “I can’t. You’d have to be there…”

[And you were…]

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