Work Text:
When all is quiet and things are calm, it’s nice to reflect. To take in the scenery and visit bygone days. When demons roam and life is uncertain it’s necessary to slow down and look at the world around you. Take in the beauty of nature and cherish the time you have with people you love.
Like Urokodaki.
Their master welcomed them with open arms, ever glad to see his pupils alive. Despite the mask blocking his face it was easy to see from the lines on his hands that he is getting older. Frailer. The cold air of the mountain accentuating the creak coming from his bones. Urokodaki is strong, but time catches up with everyone, even great men like him cannot escape that. It’s strange to think that his time on earth might be coming to an end. He’s been such a constant in their life, despite the chaos around them, that it's odd to acknowledge Urokodaki as a mortal being and not the pillar of strength that he is. The one that cared for them when everything else was washed away. Sometimes, on occasion when he’s particularly overjoyed, Urokodaki’s paternal nature bleeds through. Sabito watches as his master roughly runs his hands over the sleeves of Giyuu’s haori, a gruff hum tumbling from behind the mask as he quickly checks over his state. Sabito can tell Urokodaki is taking it all in, Giyuu is his opposite in every way. Young, strapping, smooth, beautiful to a fault. He’s yet to be greeted, and it seems like all of his master’s energy is being put into not being blinded by Giyuu’s radiance. Sabito understands. Giyuu has changed a lot. Even with all the time they spend together it catches him off guard too. When they were young there wasn’t much there in the way of muscle. Not like there is now. Giyuu was a gentle boy still shaken by the death of his beloved sister. Quiet, watery-eyed, soft and unsure.
But he’s a man now and things change. He’s stronger, broader, quicker and more committed. The unshed tears that threatened to spill forth in youth are all dried up, replaced with a sharp and observant, but aloof gaze.
Things change. Everything, but the soft glow of his skin.
Sabito is pulled from his thoughts when Urokodaki pats him on the shoulder. Even with his face covered he feels eyes on him. All knowing and calculating. Not unlike Giyuu’s. Sabito’s smile is gentle and a little guilt-ridden at being caught as the pair are ushered out of the cold evening snow and into the warm embrace of home.
Urokodaki sits them down next to the fire and shoves a bowl of something hot in each pair of hands. Sabito takes it with enthusiastic thanks, gulping down the warm liquid, before chomping on the vegetables inside. Out of the corner of his eye there is Giyuu, quietly enjoying his meal, chatting idly with their master. For once, Giyuu isn’t looking his way. He’s clearly absorbed in the food, in the presence of Urokodaki, in the intent to reminisce with his master.
Sabito can feel his stomach doing flips, it's almost impossible to observe Giyuu. To admire him for anything longer than a moment. Giyuu is always just a step behind him or too close next to him for Sabito to watch. He counts himself lucky to have convinced Giyuu to lead the way up the mountain. All to often he quietly compartmentalizes himself so that Sabito can take the lead. So that he can be consulted first.
It’s frustrating at times.
He knows how strong Giyuu is, if he wanted to he could break free from his own self-imposed role he could. He could be something great. Something greater than Urokodaki, than a pillar. Than the demon slaying corps itself. To some extent he already is. He is relentless in his pursuit of a better world, so relentless he created his own technique. He is unflappable in the face of disapproval. When Sabito flounders because things are not going his way, Giyuu is there. Steady, but fluid. If you can’t kill it one way, there’s always another. If the rules say this, bend them just a little here. Act first, apologize later, if you apologize at all. Giyuu is truly something great, but he continues to place Sabito’s own safety above his own. Sabito’s strength above that of his. He continues to place Sabito on pedestal that he desperately wishes to share with him. You are like the sun Giyuu tells him, but there are two sides to every coin, every great power needs another to keep it in check and if he is like the sun then Giyuu is like the moon. The moon and the stars and the night that they lie in.
The fire light is playing tricks on Sabito. Giyuu glows in a pale shade of orange that throws hints of what’s underneath that cool exterior. The passion that’s like a supernova underneath his skin. In the deep blue of his eyes the flames play. They show the side that only Sabito gets to see.The side where the emotion flows through and cracks begin to form in Giyuu’s own impassiveness. His nose crinkles with disgust and his eyebrows knit together. A deep frown replacing the normal neutral visage. It’s one of the most breathtaking things Sabito’s ever seen.
It takes a moment for him to realize all eyes are on him. They have been for a while.
“I’ve been quiet.” Sabito straightens his back. Going back to picking his way through his unfinished vegetables and pretending he hasn’t been staring Giyuu down since they started up the mountain.
Urokodaki quietly hums in agreeance.
“How unlike you.” Giyuu says, eyes peering over his bowl.
Giyuu’s face isn’t any different from normal. Passive, uninterested, but his eyes. They’re playful. And he can’t help but blush. Sabito is only a little irritated. Be it far from him to say when and how Giyuu should poke fun at him. When and how he should put a little more of his personality on display, but at Sabito’s own expense? Betrayal.
“Bold of you to assume you’re the only man here who likes to brood.” Sabito says, tone trough, but no heat is behind it. He can’t bring himself to look at Giyuu. There’s something a little too intimate about the look in his eye and Sabito fears that, he won’t be able to hold himself back.
Urokodaki hums again. A little more thoughtful this time.
“You were behind him today.”
They both look to each other and then back to Urokodaki. The sentence hangs in the air.
“Behind Giyuu?”
Giyuu goes back to eating. Urokodaki nods.
“That’s not so strange.” The hint of irritation is creeping back into his tone.
It is. Sabito knows it is and he knows his master knows it as well. The blush on his face is just a tinge darker.
Sabito isn’t sure how the man does it, but Urokodaki looks as if he hasn’t heard a bigger lie in centuries.
“Makomo came by. She said you two are the same as always. It seems she’s right.”
Giyuu starts asking questions immediately. He asks about Makomo. How she is. What’s her rank. Griping about how she doesn’t send him letters anymore, just Sabito, even though he never answers. They don’t veer into dangerous territory for the rest of the evening. Occasionally, he catches Urokodaki looking his way, watching the way he watches Giyuu. When Giyuu excuses himself Urokodaki suggests he make his affections better known.
Sabito laments that he has so many men wearing masks in his life.
There’s beauty in the dark of night and Sabito is staring at it.
Their old room is still the same, they still sleep close. When they were young, they used to sleep hand in hand. Giyuu got cold at night and his nightmares were horrid, he couldn’t sleep with less than two blankets and one Sabito. So they would stack the futons and the blankets, curl in close, and sleep.
Sabito was the one to suggest it. It’s colder in the mountains and it’ll be just like old times. It’s for Giyuu’s own comfort that he should come and lay with him.
Always for Giyuu.
So here they are, facing each other and pressed close together. The soft strands of Giyuu’s hair tickling Sabito’s nose.
The light of the moon spills over Giyuu as he rests, highlighting the glitter of his cheekbones and the shine of his dark hair. It’s soft and thick as Sabito runs his fingers through it, mindlessly massaging the man’s scalp. It’s times like this when he remembers the moon has always favored Giyuu. In the dark, chill of the night the man glowed, white and shiny as polished porcelain. Sabito wants to reach out and touch him. To hold him closer and see the contrast of their bodies up close. Even after years of knowing Giyuu, training with him, beating him into submission and being beaten himself. It still feels like touching Giyuu would cause too much disruption. Like dropping a marble in dish of milk. Sabito makes waves. He has since he was a child. He’s used to being the forceful one. To being that one constantly has his way. If he’s got to make a few ripples in the water to make sure that the right thing is done then so be it. But with this thing. With Giyuu. He has to be content to watch and observe. Making ripples underneath Giyuu’s skin could cause a disruption he’s not entirely sure he’s ready for.
It seems the feeling is not mutual.
Giyuu is very awake and looking up at him from his comfortable spot underneath the blankets. Sabito’s eyes snap to his and watch his eyes shimmer in the moonlight. There’s nothing there. Nothing demanding an explanation. No mirth. No disgust. Just Giyuu’s ever present look of unconditional acceptance. A look, Sabito has come to find, reserved solely for him. Curiosity kills him as he rubs at the thin skin of his friend’s wrist. It is surprisingly dry. Maybe its the cold air or maybe the uniform has been rubbing his skin raw. But its dry. And perfect. Sabito continues to run up the skin of his arm, pushing up the sleeve of Giyuu’s kimono, slow and barely there. Giyuu hasn’t broken eye contact with him, but Sabito feels the need to break away. There are other things he needs to see, other bits of Giyuu yet to be explored.
He hears the slightest hitch of a breath and directs his attention to the source of the sound. He’d never noticed how pink Giyuu’s lips wear. Giyuu is a lot of thing to others. Mouthy, unrepentant, petulant. But Sabito almost never hears anything, but sweet praise and masterful tactics. Giyuu goes on and on about Sabito’s strength, Sabito’s swordsmanship, about how Sabito deserves a place among the elite. How he is like the sun, bright and a force to be reckoned with, but never about himself. Never his own likes and dislikes. His own strengths. His own tastes. It leaves Sabito with a bad taste in his mouth. Men like Giyuu deserve to have themselves known. To have their every whim catered to and their preferences taken into account.
Sabito reaches under Giyuu’s neck and around his waist, pulling him flush to his chest. The sounds of shuffling deafeningly loud in the quiet room. He can’t see anything, but smooth expanse of Giyuu’s neck. Every squeeze and pull of the muscle underneath it. The bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows. Sabito can’t help the shaky breath that escapes him, Giyuu goes on and on about him, but this man the moon personified. Quiet, calm, and flawless in every way. Illuminating Sabito’s coldest nights. A steady constant even in the deepest, dark.
Giyuu hasn’t rebuffed him. Hasn’t scolded him for his relentless gawking. But he has stopped looking at him, a full-bodied blush spread across his face. Urokodaki was right when he said to make his affections known. He never would have been able to see this if he hadn’t. Sabito knows he’s been openly gawking. Anyone who’s had a run-in with them knows of those two in the demon corps. Devoted to each other, unwilling and unable to leave one another behind. They all know that Sabito thinks Giyuu is like the moon, his greatest desire is to worship the ground he walks on and for Giyuu to recognize that he is more precious than gold. In this moment he’s ready to prove it to him.
The skin of Giyuu’s cheek is smooth and soft as he rubs his thumb over it. It’s like heaven for the calluses he’s built up over the years. He relishes in the way Giyuu leans into his touch, sighing sweetly and letting his eyes flutter closed. Sabito leans in. The kiss is smooshed, like children pressing their lips together with only a vague idea of what it should really be like. Sabito’s never been more embarrassed in his life. Giyuu seems unfazed, like it's just another night, but the blush is still there, his eyes are still closed. Sabito tamps down on the feelings of hurt. Knowing the moon, it takes a little time for the phases to show.