Speculation on what might have happened between Ranmaru Samejima and Kei Enjoji during the interval between Volumes I & II of KIZUNA by Kazuma Kodaka.

Jishu: to surrender; to give oneself up. (But also: independence, autonomy.) A term used in martial arts.

Ranmaru shoved open the door to the dojo and stood for a moment listening to the silence. Dust motes floated in the gray afternoon light. His nostrils twitched at the smell of leather and damp wood and rain. Stiffly, leaning on the walking stick, he stepped into the long room, his amber eyes wandering over the bogu. A breastplate, apron and head-mask sat in sections like some ancient warrior hacked to pieces. Ranmaru's fingertips brushed and lingered on the hilt of one of the four foot long bamboo swords all untouched during the long months since his accident.

In his memory he could hear the echo of a metallic voice announcing, "First place in the individual competition goes to Khoei High School's Ranmaru Samejima!"

No use thinking of that now. Nor was there any point in remembering that the All Japan Kendo Championship began next week. Surely if kendo had taught him one thing it was the concept of Akirame; acceptance of one's fate with calm and courage. Akirame was intrinsic to Bushido, the warrior's code. Ran told himself that whatever happened to his body need not affect his spirit. He had been telling himself this for months.

Outside the dojo the leaves rustled beneath the October rain. It had been raining that night too. Ranmaru shivered. Stupid to feel like this. He was lucky to be alive. Everyone said so. And after the months of hospital rules and regulations, the boredom of hospital routine, he should be rejoicing in his new freedom. Perhaps it would be different when he saw Enjoji, but that would not be until tomorrow due to some mysterious business of Enjoji's.

Sometimes he felt as though he really had died that night; all his certainties seemed to have trickled away like blood in the rain.

At the creak of a floorboard, Ran turned, consciously balancing his weight between his stick and his still uncertain legs. These days every move had to be choreographed or pain sunk its fangs into his spine and gnawed like a dog with an old bone.

Ranmaru's grandfather joined him, the gray shoulders of his kimono speckled with the rain now peppering the yard in crystal beads. The old man's dark eyes studied the hall of their wrecked dreams.

At last Ojisan said, "Perhaps when the stick is no longer necessary.?" He did not finish the thought. He did not need to. Ran knew well enough that his grandfather still hoped despite all the doctors had said-and had not said-that Ranmaru would resume the way of the sword. Samejima elder believed in discipline over brain scans and x-rays. Ranmaru bowed his head, politely non-committal.

Ojisan correctly read the difference between agreement and this tacit No Comment. He said more harshly than was his wont, "Ranmaru, I wish to speak to you about that boy, Enjoji."

Ran stiffened, the fencer on guard. He waited.

"That boy is the son of a gangster, the mob boss of Osaka." The old man spat out the word, "Yakuza!"

Ran's heart began to thud against his breastbone in slow heavy slugs. "He rejects the connection." Was that true? Enjoji had been uncharacteristically evasive these last few weeks, even over simple things.

"Does he?" Ojisan's smile was bitter. "It was different when we believed." The old man's almond-shaped eyes rested on the fine-boned face of the boy before him. Too fine- boned. There were tiny lines of pain around his sensitive mouth, shadows in his eyes. In a matter of months his beloved grandson had changed into this tall, pale-faced stranger.

"I would not be standing here if not for Enjoji," Ran said quietly.

As rebellion went, it was fairly small scale, but even this much would have been unthinkable a year ago. Samejima said, "If not for Enjoji you would never have been injured. How much must this unsuitable friendship cost this family?" He said the words he had intended never to speak, addressed what he had determined never to acknowledge. "This is an unseemly thing, this bond between you."

His grandson colored, his clear skin flooding scarlet. Then the blood drained away leaving his face whiter than before.

Ojisan said heavily, "Ranmaru, I ask that out of respect for me, for our family name, you promise not to see Enjoji again."

Ranmaru eyes widened. "Ever?" He flushed again at the sound of the high, shocked voice that spoke for him.

"You are still a minor. Still living beneath my roof. I ask that you honor my wishes while this is so. I can only hope that time and your own sense of what is right and fitting will prevail once you attain your majority."

Ranmaru blinked. He tried to think of the right words, but he had never argued with his grandfather in his entire life. Enjoji was good with words. Ran fought his battles with swords.

The rain pattered on the maple leaves outside, a ghostly voice speaking through the tongues of trees in a language Ran did not understand.

Ranmaru was pissed.

Just once couldn't Enjoji be on time?

Waiting on the sidewalk with the damp autumn wind tousling his chestnut hair, bringing glitter to his sherry-colored eyes, Ranmaru bore remarkable resemblance to one of those out-of-fashion deities, perhaps Ashura-if Ashura had worn Levi's and used a cane.

One hand clenched the walking stick; the other made a fist in the pocket of his coat. He did want to hit something. Or someone. Uneasily he glanced back at the house. His grandfather had gone to see Minakami-shihan, but Miyo-san might look out and see him hanging out here on the street and wonder. Or the neighbors.

A boy wearing a yellow jacket rode by on a motorbike, buzzing slowly past like an indolent bumble bee before disappearing down the street. Ran checked his watch and cursed Enjoji under his breath. He was cold. His back hurt. He needed to sit.

A gust sent the red and yellow leaves skittering along the pavement. How late was it? He stopped himself from looking at his watch again. Stopped himself from looking back at the house. There was not another soul on the street. As Ran thought this, the boy on the motorbike returned from the opposite direction, putt-putting past.

It seemed to Ran that the rider was staring at him. He stared back.

The boy on the motorbike parked across the street and dismounted. He lifted off his helmet to reveal a pointy face and a bob of silky blonde hair. Something about that slim agile figure and the striking, if not beautiful, face, was familiar. Did he know him? Someone from school? From the kendo club? One of the freshman?

Someone tackled Ran from behind. A deep voice growled in his ear, "Hey, beautiful! You look lonely."

Ranmaru gasped and twisted around. Enjoji's brown eyes twinkled into his own as he lifted Ran clear off the ground. Tall and elegant, Enjoji was stronger than he looked. Ran felt the steel in the arms holding his body hard against Enjoji's. Half-heartedly he tried to whack Enjoji over the head with his walking stick.

"P-put me down, idiot!"

"Put your sword down, little samurai," teased Enjoji.

As embarrassing as he found Enjoji's public displays of affection, secretly Ran rather admired the other boy's cool disregard for what anyone else thought or said.

"I'm not kidding. Put me down!"

"I know you're not kidding," Enjoji said. "You're never kidding. You're the most serious guy I know." He sat Ran back on his feet and lightly kissed his scowling mouth. "How did the makeup exams go?"

"Fine." Nervously Ran glanced across the street. The boy on the motorbike had disappeared, but the knowledge that his grandfather might come walking down the street at any moment made Ran struggle to free his hands from Enjoji's.

"Good." Enjoji ignored Ran's attempts to shed him. "Come on, I want to show you something."

"Wait, we need to-"

Enjoji seemed not to hear this, dragging Ran along as fast as Ranmaru's halting footsteps would permit.

Half-way down the block Enjoji stopped and gestured proudly to a black BMW that appeared to have just driven out of the pages of a glossy magazine. "So! What do you think?"

Ran gazed at the car, seeing his gaping reflection in the tinted windows.

"It's yours?" And then, as Enjoji grinned, "But how?"

"I've been waiting to tell you. I've got a new job."

"A new job?" All he could seem to do was echo Enjoji, his tongue as rubbery as his legs. Enjoji was still smiling but his eyes were no longer meeting Ranmaru's. "I'm working at a host club in Shinjuku."

"A host club?" Ran stared in horror. "K-Kei."

Enjoji laughed. "Don't look like that. I'm a host, not a whore." He shrugged. "What's so terrible about telling lonely, middle-aged ladies they look good? That's just being polite." He winked at Ran's stricken face.

Ranmaru turned on heel, biting his lip at pain above and beyond the one lancing through his damaged nerves and muscles.

"Ranmaru, don't be a baby. I'm making three times what I was."

Enjoji caught him up in three steps, grabbing his arm roughly. "Ran! This is why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you'd overreact." Off-balance, Ran fell against Enjoji whose arms locked around him.

"Ran-chan!" Enjoji's voice was warm against his ear.

Ran tried to free himself. "Don't call me that."

"All right, sui-toha-to."

Sweetheart. Ran went still. Calm down, he ordered himself. You're making it harder than it has to be. He looked up. He couldn't read Enjoji's eyes behind the stylish specs. "We've got to talk."

Enjoji smiled. "Great idea. Let's go for a ride."

Inside, the car smelled new and expensive-and of aftershave (when did Enjoji start shaving? wondered Ran). Enjoji immediately tried to kiss him. Ran pushed him off.

"Stop it! Anyone can see us!"

"So what?" Enjoji straightened his glasses, knocked askew in the struggle, and sighed. "Ran-chan." Then he smiled wryly. "Your hair is standing on end." He turned the key in the ignition. The car purred into life. Enjoji turned back to Ran for approval. "Pretty sweet, huh?"

Ran said nothing. But that was nothing new for Ran.

"Where did you want to go?"

"I don't care. Some place private."

"Ahhhh."

"Some place we can talk."

They drove in silence and then Enjoji said, "You look like shit. Aren't you sleeping any better now?"

"No. Yes. It doesn't matter."

"You need me in your bed to keep you warm," Enjoji said confidently, shocking Ranmaru into immobility.

Enjoji flicked on the radio and Ranmaru stared out the window. Unseeing, he watched miles of city blocks flash by as Enjoji wove in and out of traffic, out-running some invisible opponent. Tell him. Sweat prickled Ran's hairline while he groped through his limited arsenal of words.

"Ojisan-" he swallowed the word.

"Huh?" Enjoji frowned and leaned forward to turn down the radio. "What?"

"My grandfather is . . . upset."

"What now?" Enjoji sounded bored. One hand on the wheel, he sought through the pockets of his black overcoat for a cigarette.

Ranmaru's lips tightened watching Enjoji light the cig. He looked the embodiment of all Ojisan detested. Worse, this new sophisticated and cynical Enjoji seemed a stranger to Ranmaru-nothing like the friend who had supported and encouraged him all the long months of his rehabilitation.

Ran said, "Yesterday he asked me not to-he said our friendship is an unseemly thing." There, it was out. Ranmaru blushed furiously.

Enjoji burst out laughing. "He said that? I didn't think the old man had even noticed. What did you say?"

"How can you talk like that?"

"An `unseemly' thing,' " mocked Enjoji. "Ojisan needs to come into the Twentieth Century. I suppose he gave you that long face and a lecture about Giri." He snorted. "Obligation. Fuck obligation."

"I don't know you anymore!" Ran cried. "This car, your clothes-"

"What's the matter with my clothes? We're not in high school anymore, Ranmaru. Grow up."

Grow up. That stung. Ran had lost nearly a year just learning to walk again. He had still been struggling to write his name when Enjoji had graduated from their high school and started college. He did feel left behind. It made him angry.

"This job. What Ojisan said is true."

Enjoji's eyes briefly left the road. "What did he say?"

"You're following in your father's footsteps."

"What? You think working in a host club is the same as being yakuza?" Now it was Enjoji's turn to redden. "Sometimes I think your head is as full of fairytales as your grandfather's. What did you say when Ojisan begged you to save your family honor and stop letting the big bad yakuza boy fuck you?"

"Let me out of this car!" Ran yelled, enraged.

"Did you agree? Did you?"

"Let me out!"

"You did. You bowed your beautiful, brainless head and said, `Hai!' "

Ranmaru yanked open the car door. The road rushed beneath like a black river. The car swerved wildly as Enjoji lunged for him, dragging him back.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?" Enjoji pulled over, steering awkwardly, one hand still clenched in Ranmaru's collar and hair.

The car door scraped hideously on pavement, the tires bumped against the curb as the BMW lurched to a stop. Enjoji turned off the engine, pouncing on Ranmaru.

"How can you do this? After all we've been through?" He kissed Ranmaru, a grinding, punishing kiss, mouth smashing mouth, lips bruising against teeth. Ranmaru groaned, turning his head, trying to duck Enjoji's onslaught. His head banged the window glass.

Enjoji's mouth gentled. Ranmaru succeeded finally in averting his face. Enjoji kissed the underside of Ran's jaw. He found the hollow at the base of Ran's throat where the pulse hammered frantically. Enjoji moaned softly.

Ran closed his eyes, feeling the black satin of Enjoji's hair brushing his cheek, the smooth warmth of Enjoji's skin against his, the moist velvet of Enjoji's lips nuzzling his throat.

"Ran, I love you," Enjoji whispered.

"It's not forever," Ran whispered back, not even aware he had said the words. "We've waited this long-"

"We've waited too long; sneaking around, hiding-" Enjoji shook his head, his face buried in the curve of Ran's neck and shoulder.

"It's different for you," Ran protested. "You don't have to consider anyone else. There's just you-" He stopped, horrified at his thoughtless words as Enjoji raised a pale face.

Looking strangely vulnerable without his glasses, Enjoji's beautiful eyes seemed to gaze blindly past Ran. He let go of Ran's hands and sat back.

"That's right," Enjoji said dully. "I have no one but you. And you don't want me."

"I do want you," Ran answered with an intensity that startled them both. "But I can't think only of me."

"Think of me!"

"I am. I'm trying to think of all of you. Ojisan, Yuki-chan-even Miyo-san has been like a mother to me. The trouble and worry I've put them through these past months."

"We've put them through," Enjoji said. "That's what you mean."

Ranmaru said desperately, "Give me time. Ojisan might change his mind."

"When was the last time that happened? WWII?"

"You don't understand, Enjoji. He's trying to do what's right. He took Yuki-chan and me in-he disapproved of the marriage-of my father marrying a gaijin, but when they died he took us in and raised us as his own."

"What if he doesn't change his mind?"

Ranmaru's face grew grim. "I won't abandon you." He broke the solemn moment by suddenly yawning, a yawn so wide his jaw made a cracking sound.

He apologized and Enjoji said, his eyes searching but kind, "When was the last time you slept, Ran-chan?"

"A year ago, I think."

Enjoji sighed and rubbed his forehead, feeling as though a kendo match were taking place in his skull. At last he said, as Ran tried to smother another yawn, "Oh hell. Put your head back, Ranmaru. Go to sleep. I'll drive you home."

Ranmaru was dreaming. It was a lovely dream. He and Enjoji were doing kendo. Their bamboo swords cracked loudly against each other as he swung with all his might. Enjoji's bare feet whisked the wooden floor, the black split skirt of his hakama rustled crisply as he moved, offering glimpses of his long, brown legs.

Enjoji was so strong. Strong and fast. Ranmaru delighted in his lover's power, although it was all he could do to hold him at bay. He must attack and keep attacking or Enjoji would have him falling back.

Clack, clack, clack, the beat of the shinai matched the rhythm of blood pounding in his veins. Behind Enjoji's face mask his lips parted as he breathed in little pants. Enjoji licked his lips.

Ran knew the taste of Enjoji's mouth, that warm, male taste laced faintly with cigarettes, that sweetness that was uniquely Kei-not that Ran had ever kissed anyone else; the very thought made him squeamish.

He slashed harder at Enjoji and Enjoji parried and came at him again.

Heaven!

"Ran-chan."

A butterfly of a kiss against the corner of his mouth. He felt comfortable and happy. Ranmaru smiled faintly at this dream.

The tip of a tongue licked his lips. Ran's lips parted in anticipation, but the tongue vanished. He waited. Delicately, teasingly the tongue licked his eyelids.

Ran's eyelashes flickered. He opened his eyes and sat up, nearly banging Enjoji in the nose. Not a dream, Ran realized confusedly. It was dark, night. He was sitting in a car. His door was open and the air coming in was cold and tasted like snow. Enjoji stood beside the open door. It was very quiet.

"We're here," Enjoji said. His voice sounded funny. Ran couldn't read his face in the moonlight.

"Where?" Ranmaru stared about himself bewilderedly. They seemed to be in the country somewhere. In the woods. He could see pine trees swaying above, and the silver shadow of mountains in the distance. The only sign of civilization was a small house at the end of a crooked stone walk. The windows were lit and the door stood wide open in invitation. "Where are we?"

"That doesn't matter," Enjoji informed him flatly. "I'm kidnapping you."

"W-what?"

"You heard me. Anyway, what do you expect from the son of the mob boss of Osaka?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Enjoji. It's late. How late is it?" He raked his hair out of his eyes and peered at the clock in the dashboard. It was very late. They must have driven for hours with Ranmaru dead to the world, sleeping as though he were drugged. "We've got to go back."

The wind through the pines made a sound like rushing water. It was a lonely sound. They could have been the last two people in the world.

"You're the one being ridiculous, Ranmaru." Enjoji stood back. "Now get out."

"Enjoji what have you done?"

"Get out!"

Ranmaru shook his head but Enjoji reached into the car for him. Ran climbed awkwardly into the other seat. He felt unsuccessfully for his stick. Enjoji bent down and Ran kicked at him. Enjoji grabbed for his feet. One of Ran's kicks connected with the side of Enjoji's head, but Enjoji just shook his head, his glossy hair spilling over his shoulders. He caught one of Ran's ankles in a hard grip.

Ran yelled as Enjoji dragged him half out of the car.

"You're hurting me!"

"You're hurting yourself!"

"Oww-" Ran swung at Enjoji. Enjoji slapped him hard and half Ran's face went numb. He stopped fighting and put his arms up protectively.

For a moment Enjoji stood over him, breathing hard, his breath smoking in the night air. Reaching into the car once more he scooped Ran out. He was no great weight these days, all bones and huge, angry eyes glinting in the moonlight like something out of his grandfather's legends.

Ran instinctively clutched at Enjoji's neck as he strode up the walk-and was angry at himself for doing so.

As they entered the cottage Enjoji's shadow loomed tall and sinister against the walls in the lantern light. The room smelled like cedar and kerosene and, faintly, of fresh paint. There were a few pieces of furniture-Ran was not in a mood to notice such details.

Enjoji lowered Ran to the futon he had made ready before going back to the car to wake his recalcitrant lover. Kneeling before Ran, Enjoji undid the laces of Ran's hightops, chancing getting kicked in the head again.

Ran sat there as immobile as a marble carving.

"Where are we?" he asked again at last.

"I told you." Enjoji shrugged. "Too far for you to walk, how's that? And I've hidden the car keys so don't get any bright ideas." He slipped Ran's second shoe off and ran his thumbnail down the sole of Ran's foot, which flexed instinctively.

"Don't!"

Enjoji's mouth twisted. He stood up and put his glasses back on. "Are you hungry? There's food here."

"What do you expect to gain from such a stupid trick? By now my grandfather knows I'm missing. He'll think-he'll probably call the police."

"Maybe he'll think we've run off together."

"No he won't."

Enjoji smirked knowingly. Aggravated, Ran taunted, "Did you break in here? Are you a burglar as well as a kidnapper?"

"And whore. Don't forget whore. And yakuza. Don't forget that."

Ran bit his lip. "Whose cottage is this?"

"It belongs to a friend. I was going to bring you here-on our honeymoon."

Ranmaru turned crimson. It took a moment before he could speak. "What friend?" he questioned. "A host friend? A customer?"

Enjoji's expression cheered for a moment. "Jealous, Ran-chan?"

"My grandfather was right," Ran stormed. "You have no morals, no character, no values. You are your father's son."

"Why not? What has walking the straight and narrow done for me? My mother died in poverty and disgrace. My lover-" He turned away sharply.

Ran stared at his stockinged feet. He cleared his throat.

When Enjoji turned back he wore his familiar mocking expression. "See, Ran-chan, you were my conscience. Without you there's nothing to hold me to the-uh-path of righteousness."

He came over and dropped down on the futon beside Ran, bending his face to Ran's downcast one. Gently he kissed Ran beneath his ear. Ran shivered. Enjoji nipped his earlobe-hard.

Ran yelped and struck at Enjoji who seized his wrist and, after a tussle, pressed a moist kiss to Ran's palm.

No calluses now, Enjoji thought with a little flicker of pity. He said coaxingly, "It's been a long time, Ran-chan."

"Get used to it. It's going to be forever." Ran's voice was cold but his eyes didn't meet Enjoji's. His child-long black lashes threw shadows on his ivory cheeks, his mouth quivered boyishly.

"I don't think so," said Enjoji.

Gloomily Ran said, "If you touch me, I'll kill you."

"What a way to go!" Enjoji laughed as Ran glared at him. "I think it would be worth it. I'm starving for you." He touched Ran's chestnut forelock, twining the soft hair between his fingers. "The feel of your naked body against mine, the taste of you, the smell of you, your voice in my ear begging me-"

Ran clapped his hands over his ears. "Shut up!"

"And you're starving for me," Enjoji said. "You know you are. Why not admit it? You want me just as much!"

"SHUT UP!" Ran shoved at Enjoji who grabbed his arms and pushed him back in the cushions. "N-no."

"Y-yes," mimicked Enjoji. Tenderly he stroked Ran's hair back from his forehead. "I love that little stammer. And those conservative ties you wear. I miss those." His hand made another slow pass over Ran's forehead.

Ran blinked up at him as though hypnotized, watching as Enjoji slipped his glasses off and tucked them away. Enjoji's eyes held Ran's as he leaned forward and kissed him.

Ran shook his head in protest but let Enjoji kiss him again, before turning away to say, "What's the use, Kei? What's the good of this? It won't change anything."

"Listen to me."

Ran stared up at the ceiling.

"I'm earning enough. You could move in with me now, like we talked about in the hospital. We could live together while we're at university. Lots of people do."

Ran frowned. He tried to push Enjoji off. "You can't support us both, and it will be months before I'm strong enough to help out."

"It doesn't matter. We'll be together like we should be, like we were meant to be. From the first time I saw you, Ran-remember? In junior high?"

"Get off me. You're too heavy." Ran pushed again. When Enjoji refused to budge he lay still, wet glittering beneath his lashes.

Enjoji kissed his damp lashes. "It will be okay, Ran-chan. I promise you."

"It can never be okay now," Ran told him. "If you would just have waited!"

"I've waited long enough. You want to wait till we're old men?" Enjoji's face darkened. He sat up, straddling Ran's thighs, his weight off Ran as he began to undo the other boy's jeans.

Pop, pop, pop went the rivets of Ranmaru's Levi's.

"You're not leaving here until you promise, Ranmaru. Until I get your sacred warrior's oath-"

The heel of Ran's hand connected with the point of Enjoji's chin. Enjoji rocked back and Ran rolled free, half-falling off the futon. Enjoji grabbed for Ran's waistband, Ran's jeans peeled right off him as Ranmaru wriggled to get free, elbows to the floor, doing a G.I. Joe (and humping rather invitingly if he only knew it).

Enjoji tossed Ran's jeans aside and scrambled up, catching Ran under the arms and dragging him back onto the futon.

"Watch my back!" Ran gasped as Enjoji landed on him, his knee forcing Ran's legs apart.

"Look who's talking! I think you chipped my tooth." Enjoji's hands were warm on the elastic band of Ran's briefs as he pulled them down. Ran's sex sprang erect, a little bushi eager for battle. Enjoji's thin mouth quirked, observing.

"My back," pleaded Ran.

"My eye," retorted Enjoji, and he lowered himself, taking Ran's sword into the wet sheath of his mouth. As Enjoji began to suck, Ran's head dropped weakly back and he groaned.

Enjoji took his sweet time, varying the pressure, now sucking hard, now delicately nibbling. His tongue tickled the underside of Ran's penis. Enjoji's hands relaxed their clamp on Ran's legs; gently he scratched his fingernails against Ran's sensitive inner thighs.

I could crush his head like a nut, Ran thought dimly, viewing Enjoji's head framed between his knees. Instead he closed his eyes and arched his back a little. Enjoji was right. It had been too long. He felt like he was going to explode.

"I can't," he mewled. "I'm going to-"

The wet warm pressure of Enjoji's mouth increased. Ran's hands moved blindly over the bedding and clutching the rough silk of Enjoji's hair.

"No, no please-" He tossed his head feverishly, the tension in his groin continuing to mount. Fingers tangled in Enjoji's hair, he drew him still closer as Enjoji seemed to swallow the whole length of him.

"K-Kei."

Release was exquisite, waves of sensation rolling through his body, bathing him in a golden glow. Ran lay there panting, spent, and Enjoji chuckled and said, "We're going to have to mop the ceiling before we leave."

Ran covered his face with his arm, and laughed unsteadily. Enjoji pulled his arm down and kissed him-Ran could taste himself on Enjoji's lips.

The kiss lingered. Then Enjoji's hands were on his shoulders, guiding Ran onto his belly. Ranmaru obeyed helplessly, burying his hot face in the cool bedclothes and spreading his legs without being urged.

Enjoji's hand smoothed over the swell of his ass. "Perfect," he murmured, and traced a long finger down Ranmaru's crack.

Ran bucked and mumbled into his folded arm. He listened to the rustle of Enjoji undressing, the futon dipping beneath his weight as Enjoji stripped off jeans, shirt, socks, briefs. Then Enjoji bent over Ran, helping him slip out of his shirt.

The air felt good on his damp skin. Exhausted, Ran lay quiescent, almost at peace.

He started as he felt the silk of Enjoji's hair falling over his buttocks and then the soft illicit press of Enjoji's lips as he kissed Ran in the most private of places.

Ran's breath caught in his throat.

Enjoji's tongue probed.

Ranmaru tensed. "D-don't."

"Why?" Enjoji's tongue flirted expertly. "You like it, don't you?" he said a little muffledly, and nipped one of Ran's perfect cheeks before he went back to turning Ran's insides to butter.

Ran's legs were trembling, a reminder of his recent injuries. Enjoji was patient. This was seduction of more than a body after all. He straightened up, spitting on his fingers, and noticed they were trembling a little too.

Slowly, watching what he could see of Ran's face, Enjoji pierced him with careful fingers. The pink mouth of Ran's anus closed about his finger, sucking like a hungry baby.

Ran's breathing changed.

Gently, gently Enjoji caressed until one finger could become two.

"Please, please." Ran's voice feathered across his lover's nerves. Did Ranmaru himself know what he was pleading for?

"With this body, I thee worship," Enjoji whispered. "With this body, I thee wed."

"Now I know you're crazy," Ran muttered. He made a sound that could have been a laugh or a sob, Enjoji couldn't tell.

"Say it, Ran." Enjoji's fingers stroked deep within Ran and withdrew.

"It? What `it?' " But he knew what Enjoji was demanding. Surrender. Unconditional surrender at that.

Ran let himself be helped on to his knees. His face rested on his arms. He waited in a kind of dizzy dream as he felt the heat of Enjoji pressed against him, pressing and then finding entrance.

He whimpered. Enjoji paused.

"Enzeru, am I hurting you? Really?"

Honesty compelled Ran to shake his head. He felt Enjoji reach under, felt Enjoji's palm rubbing his belly, his groin. His muscles relaxed, it stopped hurting-although he didn't know how long his legs were going to support him in this undignified position.

They waited a moment. Enjoji's hands went to Ran's breasts, scratching his nipples, then pinching. It felt good and it distracted Ran from what was happening elsewhere. Enjoji pushed in further and Ran's undecided muscles submitted.

Enjoji began to move inside him strongly. Ran bit his arm, squinched his eyes shut. It felt too good. Nothing that felt so good could be wrong, could it? Enjoji's hands dug into his hips as he thrust harder into Ran. Ran began to rock with him, began to find the rhythm again.

"Say it, Ran." Enjoji's voice came out choked.

The sound disturbed Ran. Shook him out of his daze. Tears from Enjoji? No way. Enjoji was a tease, a joker; the guy who always had the quick comeback. No matter how many times he was hit or knocked down, he never cried. He had not even cried over his mother. He never cried. Except once-in the hospital. Or was that a dream? Ranmaru tried to remember. Those first days after the accident were foggy, he had been so shot up with pain-killers and drugs. But Enjoji had been there, he did remember that. Those first terrible days he had been at Ran's bedside nearly every time Ran opened his eyes.

Ran tried to turn to see Enjoji's face. His back protested sharply. He stayed still, listening instead-listening tautly-and he could hear something in the uneven tenor of Enjoji's gasps, an undernote of sorrow, which hurt his heart.

"Promise me," Enjoji demanded, and his voice broke because he knew Ran would never promise, that in trying to force Ran's hand, he had lost. He drove harder into Ran's body, straining to become one for this moment at least.

The explosion came, rocking through Enjoji's body. He collapsed like a skyscraper after the wrecking ball, flattening Ran beneath him. Ran made a little sound like the wind was knocked out of him. Enjoji lay motionless, his face pillowed in the valley between Ran's shoulder blaces, his eyes stinging because of a pleasure too intense to bear alone-and alone was all he would ever be.

He remembered Ran's damaged spine and he started to roll off, but just then Ran said loudly and defiantly, "All right, I promise."

Enjoji wiped his arm across his eyes. "What?" He was sure he didn't hear that correctly, or that Ran did not mean what he wanted him to mean.

Ran was silent. So it was just as Enjoji had thought. He bit his lip hard and tasted blood. Tears and blood; defeat. He had won the battle and lost the war.

"Are you crying?" Ranmaru inquired.

Enjoji shook his head. "No," he said huskily.

"Maybe you're right," Ran said. "Four years is a long time to wait."

Enjoji swallowed hard and turned his head to find Ran leaning on elbow gazing down at him. Was he mocking Enjoji? But his eyes were grave and almost gentle.

"Are you kidding?" Enjoji asked, knowing that his voice would give him away.

Ranmaru's cheek curved in an unexpected smile. "I'm the most serious guy you know," he answered.