Title: Speechless
Rating: R
Spoilers: Yama arc.
Summary: Written for the Kink-a-Thon weekend on clampkink. The prompt was " Fai is becoming depressed and withdrawn from being unable to talk to anyone for so long. Kurogane finds a way to invigorate him that doesn't require conversation."
Author's notes: When I saw this prompt in the kinkmeme, I decided I wanted to do it because it reminded me of something I've noticed in the fandom: In Kuro/Fai fics which are set in Yama, more often than not Fai can speak Nihongo - badly, but understandably enough that he and Kurogane can carry on extended and meaningful conversations. But I'd always gotten the impression from that chapter that Fai hadn't learned any Nihongo at all in the six months he was there, and having lived in a foreign country where I wasn't fluent in the language myself, I know how stressful that can be.

This is the edited version of the fic.

Being part of an army - any army - always involved a certain amount of "hurry up and wait," and Yasha's outfit was no exception. They were, he'd learned early on, the biggest and baddest threat in the vicinity - except for Shurano - so very few local bandits or mercenaries were willing to offer a threat. As with any armed outfit, there was training, and sparring, and patrols; to say nothing of the inevitable rounds of chores, turns taken on ditch-digging, supplies-hauling, equipment-maintenance, and preparing massive quantities of food for so many men.

But no matter how many swords you polished or tents you pitched or potatoes you peeled, how many drills you tramped or hours spent lost in a vigorous training regimen, sooner or later you simply ran out of things to do. And then came the drinking, the gambling, the hours spent telling stories funny, adventurous or vulgar around the campfire. The arguments, the brawling, the posturing and status-seeking, the little romances conducted in dark corners or with discreet glances, out of sight maybe behind canvas walls, but never completely invisible.

All these were an inevitable part of army life, and Kurogane knew that, but he didn't have to like it. He looked forward to the fights with an atavistic hunger; not only because he enjoyed testing his strength and conquering new challenges, but simply because it was something to do. In the long three weeks between moon battles, Kurogane was frequently left drifting, and stewing, in search of some occupation.

As bad as it was for Kurogane, however, it was worse for Fai. The isolation, the strain of being unable to talk or communicate with anyone was telling on him. They'd agreed early on that it would be better for him to pretend to be deaf and dumb rather than show himself up as a foreigner, but now Kurogane was beginning to wonder if that had been a mistake. They'd already been trapped in this world for four months without a glimpse of the kids or the manjuu bun; Fai could have been well on his way to learning the language by now, if he'd been allowed to practice.

Fai was closing in on himself. Kurogane could see the progression clearly; since they were unable to communicate with words, he'd made a study of paying attention to the mage's body language. Over the months, the hyper energy of his early movements had slowed and finally stopped; gradually, his eager attention to others was wearing into indifference. At first, he'd accompanied Kurogane when the warrior succumbed to boredom and joined the other soldiers at games of dice or arm-wrestling, if only to cheer the others on.

Now, however, whenever he was not assigned to a duty or in the training yard, Fai would simply go back to their tent and curl up on his cot, lying in silence for hours. Kurogane knew he wasn't sleeping, since he wasn't lying on his stomach; but he was as still and unresponsive as if unconscious.

Kurogane had to do something to snap him out of it. He had to. The mage was his responsibility now; they each were all the other had.

They were alone now, back in their tent in the hazy heat of the afternoon, neither of them with any assigned or self-assigned duties left. Kurogane could still hear the murmur of voices in the distance, the noise of a mass of men that never fully went away; but Fai, curled slightly on his side on the pallet over from his, was silent.

Narrowing his eyes, he walked over to Fai's side of the room and seated himself on the end, the stuffed-straw mattress rustling under his weight. Fai didn't respond, though, until Kurogane reached out and laid one hand on his shoulder. The contact made Fai twitch; his whole body flinched and his head whipped around to stare over his shoulder so fast that it was a surprise he hadn't given himself a crick in the neck. His wide eyes reflected the gleams of sunlight creeping into the tent, against the deep black color.

Kurogane just narrowed his own black eyes in return; gradually, Fai began to relax from the initial touch, and smiled a little sheepishly. He raised an eyebrow as if requesting explanation, but he couldn't ask and Kurogane couldn't explain what he wanted, what he intended.

Instead, he shifted his weight on the mattress and let his hand drift away from Fai's shoulder, ghosting over his side. He let his second hand join his first, resting lightly atop Fai's ribs, feeling the contour of the bones and the muscles between them. His muscles were tense as wires under Kurogane's hand, and his skin twitched with surface tension. Fai craned his neck even further to follow Kurogane's movement, brows drawing together in confusion; he shifted position as if to pull away, get up and go.
Before he had the chance to move, Kurogane brought his hands down across Fai's ribs, and tickled him.
Fai squeaked, an undignified noise even for him, and then his voice escalated in wordless protest as he tried to squirm away from the touch. Kurogane was relentless, leaning forward to follow Fai's every move, his hands creeping down and across Fai's torso to brush across the skin of his belly, the other hand sneaking insistently under the sleeve of Fai's shirt to attack his underarm. When Fai tried to roll over and get away, Kurogane threw one long heavy leg over his thighs, pinning him in place, and continued his assault.

Fai's noises of protest soon transmuted to giggles, and then full-throated laughter rang out against the dusty fabric of their tent, hoarse breathless laughter like Kurogane hadn't heard in months. Gods, he hadn't realized how much he'd missed the sound of it. He didn't realize, either, until his cheeks started to hurt that he was grinning widely in response.

The two of them quickly devolved into play-wrestling, with Fai heaving against his hold and squirming to try to get out from under him; but Kurogane had weight and leverage and was able to pin him to the mattress too thoroughly for even Fai's snake-like agility to escape. Fai's nimble hands darted past Kurogane's guard to try to find his weak spots; fortunately for Kurogane, he wasn't ticklish (at least, not in any spots that could be reached under normal circumstances.)

It was almost fifteen minutes before their impromptu tussling match subsided, and they were both panting heavily before Kurogane finally relented in his assault. Fai collapsed bonelessly as soon as the tickling left off, lying half on the mattress and half on Kurogane's lap with one of Kurogane's legs and both of his arms pinioning him in place. He craned his neck one more time to meet Kurogane's eyes; his face was brightly flushed and his breathing deep and steady, more relaxed than Kurogane had seen him in weeks. He gave Kurogane a bright, disarming smile, black eyes sparkling, needing no words to convey his thank-you.

Satisfied with the success of his gambit and in no great hurry to get up, Kurogane fell to rubbing the muscles of Fai's shoulders and back. Fai sighed deeply, his ribcage heaving, and melted a little bit more thoroughly into Kurogane's touch. But even as relaxed as he was now, Kurogane could still feel the tension and stress lurking in Fai's muscles, in the deep tendons and tissues. He frowned, thinking back to the last time they'd sparred even as his hands kneaded and rubbed. He could feel knots like rocks around the joints of Fai's shoulder cuff, the muscles of his low back trembling with strain where they'd been overused to draw his bow earlier today. Had Fai stretched properly, before and after their last sparring session? He couldn't remember seeing him do it.

Come to think of it, he couldn't remember whether or not he'd ever seen Fai performing the correct stretching exercises, to warm up and loosen the body before strenuous activity. Did Fai seriously not know? Had no one ever taught him? He really had no idea how much physical training Fai had done before being recruited into Yama's army. This was a serious gap of knowledge; without the proper precautions, it was too easy to pull a muscle or rip a tendon, cause real harm. As Fai's unofficial fighting trainer, he ought to have noticed earlier, and berated himself for the oversight. He'd teach Fai the proper stretches the next time they went to spar.

During his preoccupation, he realized that his hands had wandered; he had started stroking Fai's hair, now, savoring the softness of the strands under his fingers without even realizing what he was doing. The burst of awareness sent a frission down Kurogane's spine, and he was suddenly deeply uncomfortable. What they had been doing up until now was nothing inappropriate; they were partners and friends, close companions, and there was nothing wrong with Kurogane wanting to help Fai stay healthy and fit as it would affect his fighting prowess. But this - this was a liberty he hadn't been invited to take, a caress strangely much more intimate than putting his hands on Fai's body had been.

His breath suddenly felt constricted in his lungs, his throat tight and his face flushed; and his pants felt suddenly warm and far too tights. Stiffly, he raised his hand away from Fai's hair, and leaned back, shifting uncomfortably to try to widen the distance.

Fai had closed his eyes during the massage; now he opened it, and turned his head so that he could look upwards into Kurogane's face. His expression was neutral, his smile faintly amused… but his eyes were heavy-lidded, nearly closed but for a slit, and the gleam of light against the black of his eyes pierced Kurogane like the view of a crescent moon in a night sky. Wordless, but unmistakable; understanding, and invitation.

Kurogane swallowed against a throat suddenly dry as a desert; he reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering for a moment as he agonized over the decision. Was this all right? Did Fai really understand what he was offering? Was there any way they could do this, and not have things change forever between them?

As Fai pushed himself up on one elbow, reaching out to capture Kurogane's hand and pull it to press against the line of his throat, Kurogane was faced with a new question: Did he care if it did?

Fuck no.

Fai's pulse was thundering under Kurogane's touch, his skin trembling with the force of it; Kurogane could hear his own heartbeat speeding to match it, loud in the sudden silence. Even if he could have spoken, even if Fai could have understood, he didn't think he could make himself heard over the thunder. He ran his fingers down the line of Fai's throat, the soft skin over arched tendons, and tangled in the neckline of his shirt. The garment was already hopelessly askew and tangled from their earlier play, hiked up over the pale skin of his chest and one rosy-peaked nipple. Tugging at Fai to sit up, he yanked the garment over Fai's head, winning a noise of complaint when the hemline tore under his impatience.

Tossing the torn garment negligently to the side, Kurogane leaned forward and braced both hands on the straw pallet on either side of Fai's chest, lowering his mouth to Fai's chest and running his tongue over the exposed skin. He traced the sweet firmness of skin over muscle and bone, tasting salt sweat and feeling the vibration of Fai's moan under his lips. He bit down on Fai's collarbone and grinned at his indignant yelp, before going on to soothe the bite mark with lips and tongue. Looking edible was one thing, but he wanted to know how Fai tasted, how he felt…

He ignored Fai's persistent tugging at his own shirt, at least until Fai hauled off and slapped him on the side of his head. Springing back with a yelp, he rubbed his head while meeting Fai's glare with a scowl of his own. Fai pushed himself up to kneel on the bed, then grabbed at Kurogane's shirt and yanked with unmistakable meaning: he was not going to be the only one naked here.

That slowed the pace for a time; they crouched on the mattress facing each other, undoing ties and shedding clothes. The dim light filtering through the canvas tent wall, and the muffled voices of the distant camp, reminded Kurogane of the need for circumspection; it wasn't as though affairs between soldiers was unheard of, but they were expected to be discreet. The last thing he wanted was to be confronted with a barrage of jeers or teasing the next time he showed up for a poker game. The light illuminated a strange smile on Fai's face as he shucked his boots and wriggled out of his leggings; not the bright false one Kurogane so hated, but something quieter, more rueful, almost self-deprecating. When he raised black eyes to meet Kurogane's again, though, the smile became almost real.

When they moved together again the pace had slowed somewhat; more decorous, less urgent. Kurogane ran his fingertips up Fai's arm, marveling in how fine and soft the hair was there; and then back down again over his ribcage and side and hip, making the other man shiver. In a sudden impulsive movement, Fai stepped forward and cradled Kurogane's face in both hands, pulling him down to meet him in an unexpectedly tender kiss.

For a moment Kurogane stood stiff as a board, unsure how to respond; he'd never much kissed anyone before, let alone expected to be the recipient of one. After an unsure moment, though, he folded his arms around Fai's back and pulled him close in, deepening the kiss and letting them feel hot skin on skin along the whole length of their bodies at last.

Afterwards, Kurogane became aware that his legs were shaking dangerously; and Fai, the rat bastard, was leaning all his weight on him, hanging off his shoulders. With an undervoiced growl, he walked them both backwards until his knees hit the bed and he sat down abruptly, Fai in his lap.

Fai voiced a happy sigh and crawled up on the pallet, letting his legs sprawl over the mattress while he wound his arms around Kurogane's torso. Too fastidious to rest yet, Kurogane took a corner of the blanket - Fai's blanket, he noticed with amusement - and wiped the worst of the cooling stickiness from his hand and both their laps.

He lay back, catching his breath, and allowed Fai to press close; pooling their warmth as the sweat was cooling rapidly on his skin. Fai was humming something under his breath; Kurogane couldn't tell if it was meant to be music, language, or just happy sounds, and he didn't much care. He let his fingers creep up to the back of Fai's neck, and comb through his hair; let his hands and his body say what his tongue couldn't speak, what Fai's ears couldn't understand.

He never had been very good with words, anyway.

~end.