Like sunshine after the rain.

This is what Kiku thought when the bell tinkled, signifying the entrance of a customer, and he looked up. He only managed to catch a glimpse of deep brown hair before he was forced to squint: the clouds had chosen this moment to part and bright sunshine spilled through the gap they made, silhouetting the stranger and spilling onto the wooden floors, reflecting off the puddles of water in the street beyond.
"How may I help you?" He greeted politely in Japanese, reaching up to brush away a few strands of hair that'd gotten into his eyes. The stranger stepped forward, having removed his shoes in the entryway; out of the bright sunlight, and blinked as he adjusted to the dim light of the lobby. "Uh… Hello," He tried, in awkward Japanese, shifting his large duffel bag from his shoulder to the floor. "I've… a room…" Kiku smiled, then switched to English. "Would English be better for you?" A look of relief crossed the stranger's face, and he replied in more fluent, albeit heavily accented English. "I have a reservation… for a room. It's Herakles Karupusi." Kiku nodded professionally, fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop. "All right, Karpusi-san. Everything's in order. I'll just show you to your room," he bit back a soft sigh as he stood, his joints protesting, and pushed back his chair. Motioning gently for the man to follow him, he climbed two flights of creaky stairs to the top level of the small inn.

Herakles blinked, noting the dim hallway which stretched from the landing. Two doors opened off the hallway, and a third stood at the end of the hall. "That is the bathroom. This way," a soft, accented voice came from his right, and the Japanese man swept past him, produced a jangling ring of keys, and slid a key into the door of the room on the left. Herakles observed the dark head in front of him with some interest. The receptionist looked almost feminine, with dark hair framing his face, long lashes brushing his cheekbones as he struggled with the keys, and slender white hands that emerged from the sleeves of his yukata. Finally managing to unlock the door, pale cheeks slightly flushed and apologising, the man opened the door and motioned to Herakles to enter.

Herakles stepped into the simple, weathered room. The tatami mats were littered with cigarette burns and the walls were stained with water, but it added to the room's character. The futon was already laid out, the pillowy sheets inviting, and a single desk and chair stood in the corner. The Japanese man moved around the room, opening the windows and explaining in a soft voice about check-out times and where the futons were kept. Herakles watched him. He hadn't thought it possible for a person – let alone a man – to move with such grace and poise. He wondered if the man had been a dancer sometime in the distant past. "Karpusi-san?" The receptionist's voice took him out of his reverie, and he had the decency to blush a little as his eyes snapped to the receptionist's onyx ones. The man smiled gently. "I was saying that the public bath is just down the street. You'll have to bring along your own towel. If you require anything, please do not hesitate to approach me." He produced a key from the pouch he wore around his waist, handed it to Herakles – their fingers brushing briefly! – wished him a pleasant stay, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Herakles looked down at the key in his hand, recalled the feeling when their skin touched, and groaned under his breath, feeling a familiar heat pool in his belly. This would be a pleasant stay indeed.

It was evening by the time Herakles came downstairs, shirt unbuttoned rather daringly at the throat and a towel and change of clothes draped over his arm. Kiku looked up, flushed, and stammered out directions to the bath. Herakles found this adorable. Perhaps this little kitten wasn't as detached as he first thought. He graced the receptionist with a wink and a lazy smile, then swept through the entrance, leaving one very flustered Honda Kiku.

That evening, Kiku made a trip to the public bathhouse down the street. Sinking into the hot water, he sighed, letting his body relax. Idly watching the steam curl from the water, he let his mind drift. Herakles' olive green eyes, so soft and brooding, haunted him. Chiselled muscles rippled under sun kissed skin, invitingly disappearing under an open-necked white linen shirt and faded blue jeans. His voice, slow, low and soothing, pronouncing Japanese words with an obvious stumble, only added to his charm. Kiku felt his cheeks burn and corrected himself – he was Mr Karpusi, and he was a guest. Banishing these dangerous thoughts from his head, he rose from the water, shivering in the early summer air and wrapping his towel around himself. Nothing more, nothing less.

A/N: Aurin derivates from the Latin 'aurum' for gold. Like bright sunshine after the long rain.

This is my first multichapter fic in a long time, and the inspiration for it came to me in a dream. Forgive me if I don't update regularly. It's been a while.