When Fai was a man, Ashura was his lover.

It was to be expected, really. He'd grown up with Ashura; he'd loved him as a father, a mentor, and a brother. Falling in love with him would complete the list.

And plus, Fai just couldn't help it.

Ashura sat at his throne, musing about how close the time was coming; the time when Fai must leave—when Fai must kill him. It was one thing even the boy—well, really, Ashura shouldn't be calling Fai by that anymore, he was a young man, now—himself didn't even know.

He wondered why it kept slipping his mind that Fai was very much a beautiful young man, and not a lovely little boy.

There was a lenient knock on one of the double doors. "Your entrance is graced," Ashura called out, his voice echoing slightly—the throne room was enormous.

The doors parted, revealing the masterpiece—the final result, after so many rough drafts—of Ashura's work.

The king of Celes had never been more proud. With every step Fai took, his blond hair floated, with every look he gave his blue eyes smoldered, and his lashes lowered. His smile was the only problem, but even the greatest works of art have their flaws.

All boys had their awkward phases—limbs too big, skin blemishes, disproportioned features. All boys except for Fai, that is.

His skin was as fair as it was when he was a child, his limbs were nothing but elegant and slender, and his features were as disproportioned as a seraph's.

"Good evening, my king," Fai smiled, kneeling before Ashura, and slipping his hand upon the majesty's knee. Ashura touched the edges of the corn silk that was Fai's hair, and fingered the strands possessively.

"Is it?" Ashura murmured.

"Is what, my king?" Fai said, smiling, but looking a little confused. He leaned in to the king's touch. Ashura lowered his fingers so that they brushed against Fai's throat.

Fai's hand, the one resting on Ashura's knee, rode up until it was against the inside of the king's thigh. "Is it truly a good evening?" Ashura confirmed.

Now Fai was completely confused. "I…suppose it is." He covered the bewilderment with a smile swiftly. "Did my king have anything in mind for tonight?"

If Ashura's smile were any wider, his face would have surely split in half. "I did, in fact." He leaned in towards Fai, until his lips could ghost over the magician's, tongue gliding over the lower lip. "What would you say to losing your innocence tonight, Fai?"

Fai's confusion vanished faster than it had arisen. "My innocence?" He didn't need to question anymore, but he thought he might as well draw it out.

"To me," Ashura's fingers traced Fai's lips. "Lose it to me?"

Fai let out an eerie laugh. "I have no more innocence, my king. I'd lost it before you'd even found me. A man who has killed his brother has no more innocence."

Ashura knew he would probably need a replacement head after this—his smile was much too wide to fit the frame of his face. "There are different kinds of innocence."

"Then I'd verily much like to lose whatever innocence I have left." Fai added, "That is…if I may lose it to you, my king."

No. Ashura didn't want to hear any of that tonight. He wanted to hear Fai scream his name. "Ashura. Tonight, as your king, I command you: I am Ashura."

"Well," Fai grinned. "To your bedroom or mine, Ashura?"

By the time they'd gotten to Ashura's bedroom, it was fast and furious. There were no gentle touches, regardless if it was Fai's first time or not. Ashura wanted to hear the young man scream and gasp and beg for more.

He knew Fai was capable of it.

The door slammed shut.

Ashura pulled his mouth away from Fai's and went to sit on the bed. "Undress," he commanded the magician, with a smile.

Also smiling, Fai faced his king and obeyed. His hands went to the fastenings of his undercoat, undoing them one by one. He pulled the sash over his head and let it drop to the floor. Fai tossed the coat onto a nearby chair.

He peeled off his gloves, and allowed them to be thrown to the side, as well. He shed his boots and threw them to the door. Ashura cocked his head and smiled, watching how much Fai's body had changed over the years—from androgynous and childlike, to slender and wiry. Beautiful.

Fai was down to his trousers now. His eyes were still as serene as ever, smiling at Ashura as though Fai were doing nothing more than serving him tea. Once the trousers dropped, Ashura halted Fai's hand with his own, and pulled him to the bed.

It was Ashura's turn to disrobe.

Fai's eyes followed Ashura's hands, how his fingers seemed to make the simple act of undoing a fastening wholly mesmerizing. Fai was tantalized how Ashura formed the very action of undressing into a sensual art. It wasn't overly seductive, or vulgar.

It was just so casual, that it was seductive.

For example, the way Ashura removed his undershirt. His white fingers touched the first button infinitesimally. The fingers on his other hand touched the few buttons below that. Ashura then moved them away as if hesitating, hovering just a millimeter above his shirt. He moved that same hand to his lips, fingertips pressing ever so slightly against his mouth, while the other hand undid one button slowly—temptingly so.

Fai felt as though that throbbing part of him down south would combust before Ashura was done shedding his clothes.

Once Ashura had returned to Fai's side on the bed, the king's hand ran up his magician's side. Ashura allowed his lips to linger just above the base of Fai's throat, tipping Fai's head up.

"I love you," Fai whispered.

"I want you," Ashura replied.