Tatsumi would have never thought he might find himself in a place like this on a Saturday evening. Music throbbed, strobes of light lanced and stabbed around the darkened room, highlighting gleaming metal beams and mirror walls. There was the smell of smoke and alcohol, the background noise of human voices, and the overall electricity of a place packed with life.
No, not really his kind of place.
But his apartment had felt cold lately and Tatsumi had done what he was used to doing in moments like these – bury himself in his work until late, then go home and fall into his bed, dead to the world. Well, as dead as a shinigami could ever be, that was. Morning would come soon and with it more work, more distraction. It was a proven, working concept. It was a way of life he had quickly adapted to, which he was good at.
Unfortunately he was on vacation at the moment.
Tatsumi Seiichiro rarely took time off; he was such a work animal, but this time… well, this time he had been forced to. Konoe had made it quite clear that he wasn’t allowed to come back until Monday morning at nine. Theoretically Konoe was his boss, though people always whispered that the true power behind the Shokan Division was Tatsumi Seiichiro, but he would hear none of it. Konoe was his superior and while Tatsumi had a lot of power, he never abused it.
Faced with no work day, he had tried his best to fill his days at home with whatever chores he could find, like painting the handrail of the stairwell or finally repairing the dripping faucet in the kitchen, and it had taken his mind off of some things but… not enough. Things that had developed lately, things that had come to the forefront again, things he had tried to ignore. Sadly, some things he could no longer ignore and they also wouldn't go away.
He sighed.
So he had decided to go out for a while. That was why Tatsumi had finally found himself here, in a bar with dance floor, had slipped into a nice little booth and ordered a drink. The Shadow Master rarely drank, except for a glass of wine every now and then, so he surprised himself with his own behavior. Oh well…
Sipping on his surprisingly good drink he glanced around, trying to categorize the clientele of this particular establishment. Preferably young and handsome guys, he noted… and almost choked on his drink.
Holy…
Great! Just great! How in all heavens could he ever had ended up here?
Wishful thinking? a part of him snickered.
<Oh, shut up!>
But you would like to… but not with just anyone.
And that had been one of the main problems rising up again. He had ignored it long enough, shoved it away, locked away his feelings like so many times before, but the strength of the very person who had entered his life in such an unexpected way so long ago wasn't waning. If at all, the attraction was growing and it deeply upset the Shadow Master. He was used to order and control, though he wasn't a control freak, and this whirlwind had simply blown him off kilter.
Tatsumi downed his drink and prepared to leave when something caught his attention; a flash of light… Turning he took a second look and realized what he had seen, eyes widening in shock and awe. There on the dance floor, in a whirl of gold and white, was Watari. Smiling at his current dance partner and pulling himself out of the light grip the other had on his hips Watari whirled around, laughing golden eyes sparkling with joy…
Tatsumi felt himself rooted to the spot, frozen, shocked and… fascinated. He watched the younger shinigami move smoothly and fluidly, radiating such wonderful life, even in his death, such energy and youthful cheerfulness, it was hard to really fight off the effects this man had on the people he met. His blond hair was bound back tightly with several loose strands hanging into his face, and the smile was as carefree and heartfelt as always.
He looked… incredible, Tatsumi thought, mouth dry and brain misfiring.
“Man, you have high goals,” a dry voice said behind him, making Tatsumi start.
“What do you mean?” he asked, glancing at the tall man who stood beside him now, following his line of sight.
“You’re eyeing Yuta,” the stranger said, nodding at the blond haired shinigami.
“So?”
Dark eyes regarded him curiously. “So you must be new. Yuta's the most valuable prize, but nobody’s succeeded so far. He comes here every few weeks, always alone and leaves alone. This gorgeous body… what a waste. Tried myself, but he can turn you down so politely, give you one of those dazzling smiles, and you feel like the king of the hill because he even spoke to you. Like I said, high goals. But try it, my friend.”
Tatsumi's eyes wandered back to his colleague, noticing the man who had managed to wrap his arms around the shinigami again, whispering something into his ear. He felt a surge of… what? Just seeing the man holding Watari, leaning in so close, allowed to touch him in places… Tatsumi wanted nothing more than to go over there and trade places.
<There we go again>, he groaned silently.
Things like that had happened a lot lately. Well, lately as in ‘the last years’. Watari Yutaka had arrived in Meifu about thirty years ago, shortly after his death. A violent death, Tatsumi recalled. A lab explosion that had killed the young, ambitious man within seconds. Like all shinigami something had kept him bound to his former life, though. Shinigami weren’t simply chosen, they were human beings who couldn’t give up life as it had been. It was either guilt, shame, or the need to finish something or other. Tatsumi had no idea what had kept Watari from simply surrendering to death, and he had never asked.
The blond shinigami who had arrived in the Shokan Division had turned everything upside down. Unlike others who came here depressed or emotionally frozen or even aggressive, Watari had been like a warm breeze. He had been smiling, cheerful, fun – he had brought with him life.
And the owl.
Tatsumi still remembered that day. It had been day two of Watari’s shinigami life and suddenly there had been this little tennis ball of an owl on his shoulder, who had soon become a fixture in this place. 003 had stormed into their lives just like her owner. No one knew where she had come from. Aside from Tsuzuki’s ofuda birds, magical creatures, there were no animals here. There was also no law against keeping pets.
So the owl had stayed.
And Watari had stayed.
Tatsumi, as the secretary to Konoe and the second-in-command so to speak, had little to do with field missions per se. He assigned them, but he never worked with any of the agents. Watari had been given one of the most quietest sectors, Osaka and Kyoto, and while there were a few cases, there was nothing as extreme as Tsuzuki’s confrontations. He worked his cases with enthusiasm, with diligence and with success.
That he soon discovered that he Shokan Division also had a lab had been accidental and ever since Watari had taken on the position as both the resident doctor, if there was need, and their scientist. His engineering degree, his computer skills and his agile, inquiring mind were his assets. He was a bright young man, energetic, unstoppable on a research quest, and…
…and Tatsumi had found himself watching him more and more often.
Throughout meetings, throughout breaks, throughout whatever moments occurred. He felt uncharacteristically empty and alone when Watari left his office after a debriefing. He wanted to be around him, so he hovered in the lab throughout a computer research. And while he had protested the assignment of the blond as his partner throughout the Kurosaki case, he had secretly enjoyed it.
He enjoyed the vibrant voice, the sparkling golden gaze, the energy that radiated off the younger man. Watari had wormed his way into his consciousness, into his life, his mind… his heart and soul.
Tatsumi didn’t know when, but he had found himself slowly wanting more of Watari. Not just his friendship. He envied Tsuzuki the ease with which he interacted with the blond. He envied 003 whenever she was petted, stroked or cooed at. He found himself following those slender fingers as they flew over a keyboard, held a pen or simply carded through tangled blond strands after a shower.
The time at Kurosaki Nagare’s house had been his personal hell. Watari… in just a simple bathrobe… no glasses… so completely relaxed. Tatsumi had found himself breathless – and had immediately shut down, turning off those emotions. He had actively shielded himself from the charm, the warmth… and the attraction.
No chance.
No chance at all.
He had lost on all fronts and Watari had turned into his personal hell. He was so close, but he couldn’t really touch him. He wasn’t a replacement for Tsuzuki, Tatsumi’s hopeless love for the troubled shinigami who reminded him so much of how his own mother had suffered. Watari was… Watari. A league of his own. Out of Tatsumi’s league.
Now he was here. In a place he wouldn’t have entered if he had been in his right mind.
And Watari was here.
Golden eyes met his.
Tatsumi swallowed hard when the blond pulled from the embrace of his partner, leaving the man to dance with someone else. There was a brief flash of resigned disappointment, then the rejected man found himself a new partner. Watari stepped from the dance floor, right into his direction, and all Tatsumi could do was stare. He had never seen Watari like this and it gave his mind the strangest ideas. The slender body, usually hidden beneath large pullovers and white lab coats, was now nicely revealed by a skintight, former black jeans and a simple white shirt, hanging loosely and, due to its open state, showing a lot of skin -- skin he wanted nothing more but to run his fingertips over to confirm its softness.
Watari was breathing a little hard due to the dancing he had just performed, and Tatsumi felt his throat go dry with the sight -- and the sudden thought how one could make Watari Yutaka pant... jeeez, what the hell was he thinking?!
"Tatsumi. I never believed you of all people'd show up in a place like this," Watari's soft voice cut into his line of thoughts.
<You and me both, pal.>
"I…"
"Oh, I see, you wanted to explore the nether regions, huh?" Watari downed a drink and turned mischievous, sparkling golden eyes at him.
Nether regions. Shit, his brain was really all messed up now. Tatsumi felt images collide, along with the thought that he would really love to explore nether regions with this man.
"Since you're here, Tatsumi-san -- let's dance."
"Wa… Watari!"
Tatsumi didn't get the chance to voice his protests as he felt fingers curl around his wrist and drag him all the way over to the dance floor. Watari laughed at him wholeheartedly and he felt his apprehension melt away under the sparkling sound. Sure, he had heard his colleague laugh before. Watari Yutaka was one of the most cheerful persons in the whole of Meifu, and he spread good-natured happiness and smiles wherever he went.
Suddenly the music changed, turned into a slower tune, and for a second Tatsumi didn't know what to do, just gazed into those golden orbs that held an unreadable expression. And then Watari's body was pressed flush against his, arms came up and pulled him closer carefully as if expecting him to break free.
As if, he heard part of him proclaim. You're right where you have been trying to be for how long, ne, Tatsumi-san?
<Shut up!>
Tatsumi tentatively placed his hands on Watari's hips, felt the other man move and let him take the lead, just followed him through the soft rhythm, pulled the hard body closer until he was even able to breathe in the other man's faint scent, warm and soft, like peach and vanilla, like the two of them.
Watari looked at him and suddenly his entire world focused only on those beautiful golden eyes, as strange and fascinating as the violet ones of Tsuzuki were. Golden eyes that couldn't belong to any human being, in a face that was smooth and handsome. He felt the silken strands of long blond hair brushing over his fingers, sending sparkles all through his body with ever tickling touch. Hearing only the rush of his blood in his ears, Tatsumi watched the world stop moving as he lifted a hand in slow motion, ghosting fingertips over a soft cheek, bending down, noticing the slight widening of those beloved eyes and heard the surprised gasp before their lips touched.
Watari.
He was… kissing Watari.
And the universe exhaled.
Blue eyes flew open on shock.
"Watari… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I'm sorry."
Tatsumi pulled back roughly and fled.

* * *

The lips had felt unexpectedly soft and warm under his touch. His own had tingled at the contact, surprised and shocked, pleased and horrified him in one. He had wanted to continue, he had wanted to pull away, he had wanted to never end it.
Tatsumi leaned against the closed door of his apartment, staring into nothingness. No lights were on. His own breathing was harsh in his ears and he felt his heart hammer in his chest as he recalled that moment over and over again.
Watari's body so close. His smell, his touch, his sight… simply everything. The whole man. He had never seen him like this. Never outside work, never so… private. Never so…
… intimate.
Tatsumi shivered and swallowed hard.
Intimate.
He had finally been granted his wish, and he was scared as hell. Watari had kissed him. Him… Tatsumi Seiichiro…
The Shadow Master walked almost unsteadily over to his couch and sank down, shock now taking over.
After he had fled the bar he had walked the streets of Kyoto, aimless, lost, mind whirling. In the end he had come back home, almost unconsciously teleporting to his place.
He had kissed Watari.
And Watari had kissed back.
He had… kissed back.
He had touched him, had smiled at him, had been warm and alive and so wonderfully close to him… in his arms.
Tatsumi ran a hand through his hair, leaving it an untidy mess, but he didn't care. All he could think of was one question –
-- what now?

* * *

Monday came faster than he would have wanted it to rise, but here he was – back at work. Tatsumi had spent the whole weekend trying to think of what to do now, what to say when he met Watari at work. He couldn't get the sensation of the other man out of his mind. His lips responding to the kiss Tatsumi himself had initiated. He had woken more than once, feeling hard, taking care of the problem with his hand – his best friend, he thought wryly. And he had thought of nothing but the blond shinigami, his smile, his eyes, his mouth, the skin revealed by the open shirt…
Tatsumi groaned and tried to concentrate on his work.
It wasn't easy.
The problem was he saw neither hide nor hair of Watari during the entire week to come, and whenever he appeared at the lab the scientist was ‘magically’ otherwise engaged. Due to the fact it was a surprisingly quiet week they didn’t even need to start a conference and all shinigami were finally able to do their neglected paperwork – much to Tsuzuki’s horror.
Tatsumi had to work through a small hill of paper to discover why the blond was so absent or always busy, and he didn't envy Watari the job. It was one of those that was easily titled 'needle in a haystack'. Konoe had asked him to go through hundreds of files in search of something specific that went with a current case, several lost souls in the Osaka area.
No, not a shred of envy.
So Tatsumi did what he always did – bury himself in his workload again until late at night. But each day, when it became quiet in the office with all the others gone, his mind started to wander, providing him with pictures, images of a certain blond haired shinigami with laughing golden eyes, faint memories of a contact between their bodies when Watari had pressed against him during that dance, the fleeting brush of their lips – and then he felt warmth curling inside of him.
Watari.
The work gave him time to think about what had happened in the night club again and again. Just like he had thought about it the rest of his off days. Tatsumi knew he had liked it; a lot. He wanted more. More of those lips, those hands… of Watari. For the first time since he had become aware of his feelings for the other man had the walls broken down enough to let those thoughts occupy his waking mind. Not just a dream – reality had intruded and it had been in the form of a kiss.
Tatsumi removed his glasses and massaged his eyes.
He wanted Watari. And Watari was apparently not as disinclined as he had thought he would be. Actually, the blond had been very much into it. But there had been no calls, no visit, nothing at all after the incident. What did that tell him?
Either Watari saw it as nothing but a little slip or he was giving him the necessary time to think this over.
Shit, Tatsumi thought. He had no idea what of the two he should believe in. He knew what he wanted, and it was a slender, blond man with a sexy smile, incredible eyes and wits to match his own.
Do or die, he mused. Take a step or let it rest.
He had never been a quitter.
On Friday he couldn’t stand it any more.
Pushing his glasses back onto his nose he sighed, decision made. If he couldn’t get the chance to see Watari at work, he would have to take it at the club again. Not that he liked the idea very much, but… well, it was the only way.
 

It was past office hours already when Tatsumi decided to call it quits and left his desk to fend for itself until tomorrow when he would return. He didn't know why he took the long way out, a way that took him past the lab, but he was suddenly there.
Watari's little haven. The research lab.
Tatsumi looked at the semi-closed door, noting the light was still on, but there was no sound coming from inside.
So he had a look inside – and stopped.
Tatsumi stood and stared at the vision of sheer beauty in front of him.
Watari was still there, but he wasn't working. Blond head resting on crossed arms, the younger shinigami was sleeping with his head on the table, the long silken hair bound back in a rebellious ponytail with the strands that always seemed to escape the tie, framing the youthful face with a life of their own. His lab coat had been draped haphazardly over the back of the chair and the glasses were off, resting on the table. With said face relaxed in sleep Watari looked younger and more vulnerable than ever, more like a heavenly angel than an angel of death, and when the hell had he become so sappy?
A soft hoot caught his attention and he glanced over to a shelf where he noticed 003, the ever-present, deeply loyal owl, not much bigger than a tennis ball.
You’re watching over your master, aren’t you? Tatsumi thought.
She clicked her beak and hooted again, before flapping her little wings and burying her head under one of them, returning to sleep like its master.
The computer screen still glowed faintly, columns of letters and numbers running past. Apparently a search program.
Tatsumi stepped quietly into the lab and glanced at the screen. This would take a while, he mused. A long while. More like the whole night. And Watari was waiting for the results.
His hand reached out without conscious thought, touching the wavy hair, carding through the long strands in a gentle manner. Tatsumi brushed back one wayward blond strand from Watari’s face, sensing the other man’s warmth against his fingertips. Watari sighed in his sleep
"Watari," he called softly.
There was a soft grunt and he had to smile a little.
"Watari, wake up. You can't sleep here."
Golden eyes blinked open, clouded by sleep, and Watari gazed owlishly up at him, his head still resting on his arms.
"Huh?" he muttered.
"This must be painful," Tatsumi remarked, hand still resting on the wavy hair.
When Watari raised his head, he reluctantly let it slide off, wincing with the younger man as he felt the muscles protest their unnatural sleeping position.
"Kinda," Watari muttered and rubbed at his neck.
Tatsumi's fingers twitched to do the same. The man looked incredibly kissable.
“Tatsumi?”
“Hm?”
“What are you doing here that late?”
What was he doing here? Tatsumi thought. Good question.
<I walked by because I've been doing just that all week, hoping to see you.>
Seiichiro, you're pathetic, his little inner voice chided.
Yes, he was.
Golden eyes still looked at him, unguarded by the glasses Watari wore most of the time.
“I wanted to tell you… I don’t regret it,” Tatsumi heard himself say.
Okay, so not what he had planned to say, the lie, the quick retreat. What the heck was wrong with him?
“Regret what?” Watari sat back, stretching a kink out of his neck, and Tatsumi had to swallow.
“That I kissed you.”
Watari stopped his massage, eyes narrowing a bit, sandy eyebrows drawing down. “Kiss?”
“At that bar.”
<Where else? Did we ever kiss before? No!>
“You didn’t kiss me.”
“I…“
Tatsumi found himself at a loss. Standing in the quiet lab in a deserted building on a Friday night past office hours, talking with Watari about an incident that had burned itself into his mind – and Watari refused to remember it?
Intense eyes regarded him. “That wasn’t a kiss.”
“Uh… “
<It damn well felt like one! If it had gone on any longer, I'd have…>
Done what, Tatsumi-san? the voice laughed. You ran away.
Oh yes… that.
Tatsumi didn’t get the chance to utter an single word -- Watari just grabbed his tie and pulled him close in a swift move, bringing their lips together in the same instant.
Heat exploded in Tatsumi’s chest at the contact, feeling the hotness of Watari’s tongue glide over his lips, coaxing them open under him and passionately invade him, his whole presence devouring him, burning itself through is mind and setting every cell of his body on fire.
When Watari pulled back after what seemed like an eternity, Tatsumi had to grope for support of the desk or he would have sunken to the floor, his knees were that weak all of a sudden.
“That’s a kiss,” Watari whispered, and as Tatsumi glanced at him he noticed the other shinigami was a little breathless himself.
Oh hell yes! That was a kiss.
And the voice inside his head cheered.
Golden eyes held him entranced in their spell, in their beauty, their otherworldliness. He had never thought about them before, never questioned the color, just like with Tsuzuki. They were magical and they held him in place.
"Your place or mine?" Watari whispered roughly.
He noticed the flushed cheeks, the quickened breathing, and the warmth radiating from the man he was still leaning over.
"Mine," Tatsumi growled fiercely, instinct taking over and blocking out reason.
He, the Shadow Master, who rarely gave in to emotions and the spur of the moment, did just that. Watari's proximity was intoxicating, giving him what he had longed for all week.
Watari didn't protest, only smiled, rising into the circle of his arms, so close to him. Their bodies touched and Tatsumi did something else he rarely chose to do – he teleported them both from inside the office building to his home.
 

The moment they arrived Tatsumi felt himself being pushed against the wall, a hard body pressed into him. Watari grabbed his wrists, holding his hands over his head and dove for another of his soul-searing kisses that left Tatsumi’s mind blank and his body hard with need. Watari’s hand roamed over his body as his tongue glided over his skin, and was that him whimpering?
“You’re hard, Tatsumi,” that soft voice whispered in his ear and all his could do was nod and moan, hips twitching helplessly into the pressure of fingers on his crotch.  “You want me that much?”
Teeth nibbled at his earlobe, sending more shivers through his body, and he could only hiss an agreement, wondering for a brief second what Watari would be capable of if this was what he was already doing to him when he wasn’t even undressed. A little tug caught his attention – Watari had removed his tie, was playing with the buttons of his shirt.
“Bedroom?” his merciless seducer breathed, fingertip ghosting over one peaked nipple.
Tatsumi simply nodded into the overall direction and almost sagged down the wall when the body that had held him upright disappeared.
Staggering into his bedroom Tatsumi gasped at the sight of the sheer beauty awaiting him. There, sprawled on his bed, the long hair flowing open over the pillows, lay Watari, minus his pullovers and shirt but wearing a smile that, by-passing his cerebral cortex, directly hit his crotch, making him harder in an instant. Watari was playing with the tie he had snatched earlier, letting it glide over his naked chest and abdomen, and Tatsumi saw the minute goose bumps on the delicate skin this sensuous play was causing.
He found he suddenly envied his tie.
“Yutaka…“ he breathed, kneeling on the bed between spread thighs, eager to replace the tie with his fingers and tongue
He was met by hot lips and a skillful tongue, challenging his in a deep kiss, keen fingers slipping under his shirt and pulling it open impatiently and then  - gods, the sheer skin to skin contact seemed to scorch his last intact brain cells, and the taste of Watari’s skin, the soft sounds his lover made, gasps and moans when he hit hot spots… Watari’s entire body seemed to be one single hot spot, if the way he arched and breathed and moaned under him was any indication of how the younger shinigami felt.
Tatsumi had learned early on that Watari Yutaka was a very passionate man, that whatever he did he did it with his whole heart – he just had never thought of him that way when he had pictured him in bed. Watari’s golden eyes had taken the color of dark brass and his breath was already coming in rather short gasps – and he was still wearing his pants. Suddenly Tatsumi felt himself rolled around, finding himself being blanketed by one whirlwind of horny shinigami.
Watari wrapped the tie loosely around his wrists and placed them over his head, straddling his hips – and then it was Tatsumi’s turn to moan and arch as teasing fingers and hot wet tongue explored his body. Watari grinned at him as he bent down on him, unfastening his pants and finally releasing him. Fingers brushed over his now exposed hardness and Tatsumi moaned, hearing the sound turning into a choked sob as he was engulfed in hot wetness unexpectedly.
Spreading his legs wider he shivered under the ministrations of the other man, feeling those silken strands tickle over his inner thighs in an additional stimulation. Fingers were ghosting over his skin, meeting hot spots and teasing him mercilessly as Watari’s tongue did wonderful incredible things to him, making him sob out the other shinigami’s name – which turned into a harsh cry as he felt a slick finger enter him swiftly and brushing over that special spot again and again, making his hips jerk wildly.
Just the moment he thought he couldn’t stand it any longer the touches were gone. Blue eyes opened in confusion and then Tatsumi's breath caught in his throat. Watari was kneeling over him, watching him with lust filled eyes, his fingertips ghosting over his own body, caressed his nipples until they peaked under his touch, moaning softly. One hand wandered deeper, over the flat abdomen and over his wide spread thighs until he touched himself, head falling back for a second.
“Taka…“ Tatsumi whispered wide eyed and breathlessly, reaching out to touch that slender body, but his lover surprised him again.
Watari shifted, slick hands were on his hardness, and then he just sank down on him, groaning as he took him into his body. Tatsumi echoed the groan at the sudden sensation of heat and tightness, at the sight of his lover’s head fallen back, panting open mouthed and sobbing out as he took his own pleasure.
Tatsumi started to move himself, meeting his lover’s movements with small thrusts of his own, causing him to cry out ecstatically when he hit that spot inside that would turn any spine into molten lava.
“Seii… now… gods, now…“
With one fluid move the Shadow Master rolled his lover on his back, feeling those long legs wrap around him, fingers digging into his back as he thrust into the willing body, hearing Watari sob and whimper and feeling the body tensing up – and finally Watari screamed out his name as climax shook his body, making him spasm around Tatsumi, who groaned helplessly as he was pulled over the edge as well, Watari’s name on his lips.
 
* * *

When he woke the next morning, the sun was already up and his nightstand clock informed him it was past nine. Even on weekends Tatsumi rarely woke after eight a.m., so for him to sleep in, he had really been exhausted.
Images of last night came back and a slow, warm feeling spread through his pleasantly lethargic body. He felt muscles twitch, the skin tingle, and a smile teased at his lips. Turning to look at the other side of the bed he found it sadly empty.
So Watari was an early riser, hm?
And he hadn't even heard him.
Tatsumi slowly got out of bed, savoring the soul-deep satisfaction, something he hadn't felt in ages. One night and his whole life had changed. One night and his emotions felt both stable and on a rampage.
Last night he had been given what he had always secretly craved, what he had never had the strength and the guts to actively pursue.
Watari.
Yutaka.
The Shadow Master rose and reached for a robe, slipping into the thin piece of clothing. He ran a hand through his tousled hair as he left the bedroom, looking for the man he had wanted to share a good-morning kiss and maybe more with today.
The soft noise coming from the kitchen guided him in the right direction and he silently approached. There, in the middle of his bachelor kitchen, already dressed, hair bound back into that stubborn pony tail, was the man he had missed. Watari was moving around as if he had been here before, opening cupboards, extracting what looked like breakfast utensils, and there was a pot of tea already on the counter, ready to be served. A mug stood next to it, steaming with the hot liquid.
When Watari became aware of Tatsumi's presence he straightened and gave him a smile.
"Good morning," he greeted him and while Tatsumi bathed in the sight of the man, the sound of his voice, something was slightly off.
"Good morning," he replied. "What are you doing?"
"I made tea."
Now that was obvious.
"I thought you'd like some when you wake up." Watari shrugged, grinning a little. "Now you're up. Want some tea?"
The bright voice and smile were like a ray of sunshine and Tatsumi allowed himself to fall into it for a moment.
"Yes, thank you," he still replied.
"There's also breakfast in the oven. I'm not really sure what you like in the morning, but well, there was some left over and maybe you're in for a new experience."
New experience, hm? Tatsumi thought. Was their part-time scientist into breakfast experiments as well?
Then a thought hit him. "You're not having breakfast with me?"
There was suddenly a guarded expression in those golden eyes, on that handsome face. Watari pushed back a strand of obnoxious hair.
"I had some already."
Tatsumi frowned, trying to pin a name to the uneasy feeling that was spreading.
"I…ah… will be leaving then," Watari added and suddenly the feeling intensified.
Watari dried his hands and walked past him while Tatsumi stood rooted to the spot. All those warm and positive feelings had made way for dread and apprehension.
"Uh, you've got to be somewhere?" Tatsumi asked, confused.
What? Why? Why is he leaving? Today was Saturday! He had hoped Watari would have some time to, well, stay… Tatsumi felt an intense need for this man to stay, to touch him, to kiss him…
"N…no," Watari answered, sounding hesitant. And he wasn’t looking at him.
"Then… stay? I mean… I'd like you to… stay." Tatsumi stumbled awkwardly over the words. Shit, he had never done this before.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Tatsumi."
Tatsumi blinked. Part of him registered the formal address, the other the words. "Why?" he blurted. "Why not?"
Sharp blue eyes took in the whole stance of the man now gathering his coat, heading for the door. Sadness floated in the normally so cheerful voice and the amber golden eyes were evading him.
"You really have to ask? This isn't what you want. I'm not the one you want. Last night was… I enjoyed last night very much. I'm happy you let me see this side of you, but I also understand and accept that for you there are no strings attached. I'm going to leave so we can return to our lives, Tatsumi. Normality."
Tatsumi stared at the slender man, saw the pain and the sadness and the iron will to see this through, no matter how hard it was.
And it was hard for him. Painful. Tatsumi felt the same pain inside him and his mind screamed to stop this from happening.
Damnit, talk to him! Tell him!
Watari turned to the door again, about to open it.
"What makes you think it was a one night stand?" he called.
Watari stopped, frozen, his whole stance stiff. He wasn't turning around, but Tatsumi knew with dead certainty that he had hit the heart of the problem.
"Because that's what it was," came the quiet reply.
Was that regret? Was it resolve? Was it something else he just couldn't hear?
"It wasn't for me."
 

Watari had woken to a dream come true, to the naked, sleeping form of Tatsumi Seiichiro next to him in bed. They had made love last night, like two starved teenagers, and he felt no regret about it. His body was sore in places, but also warm and sated and so very, very relaxed. Just looking at the man brought back the memories of passion and heat and pure sex.
Sex.
Tatsumi
Oh shit!
<Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…. I hope he was drunk last night! I hope he was dead to the world. I hope he has amnesia! Because I’m dead!> Watari thought frantically as his mind finally overrode his body and started working.
He had slept with Tatsumi Seiichiro. Tatsumi Seiichiro! His boss!
Gods, no…
What had he been thinking?
Easy answer, Yutaka. Nothing at all. Well, at least you weren’t thinking with your brain.
He groaned softly.
He was so dead. Well, actually he was dead, but now he would be even more so.
<I slept with my boss. I kissed him, seduced him and then… took him. Great…>
His dream come true.
Tatsumi Seiichiro… had slept with him. He had kissed him a week ago and now he had slept with him.
What the fuck was going on?
Watari sat in the bed the two men shared at the moment, totally confused, trying to fit the events of the last night into his picture of the world and Tatsumi's place in it.
He could have said no. He could have claimed the kiss had been an accident. But no, he had…. He had kissed him back, he had let Tatsumi lead them...
Why?
Tatsumi was a damn good looking man… granted. No doubt about it. Watari had registered that from day one. He wouldn’t have said no if the older shinigami had approached him any other time before either, but he never had. Tatsumi was a very reserved man, distancing himself from personal encounters, and Watari had agreed with himself that watching him from afar would have to do.
Until a week ago.
Tatsumi had been at his regular club and he had done the impossible – he had danced with him. And he had kissed him.
When had he left his brain at home and started to think with the one braincell down south?!
<I slept with Tatsumi.>
<Oh hell.>
And not that he regretted it.
<But I slept with my boss!>
<Why?!>
Because you fell in love with him, you stupid git!
He had fallen for the man when he had gotten to know him. Not just throughout the Kyoto fiasco, but also later on when they had investigated Nagare. He had looked behind a façade upheld so fiercely, he had seen the desperation, the love, the tenderness inside Tatsumi. He had seen how the Shadow Master had treated Tsuzuki, how he had caressed him when he had thought no one was watching, how he had looked at the other man, unconscious and recovering from Touda's flames and Muraki's abuse…. And Watari, watching from the door unnoticed, had felt a stab in his heart, a kind of feeling not unlike… jealousy.
He had seen the love and affection, he had known it for what it was, and he had felt… the same. He wanted Tatsumi to be loved, to belong, but he knew he himself wasn’t the man the Shadow Master was looking for. He wasn't part of that bond between the two men who had such a close past, and he had returned to his lab.
He had left the dream that had briefly blossomed die.
Watari had holed up in his lab, trying to forget that these two men seemed to share what he had once had when he had still been alive. Watari had loved, had been in love, had been in a relationship that had been abruptly ended by his premature death.
Tsuzuki…. He didn't know about the other shinigami, but he doubted it, and Tatsumi…? He didn't know.
The Kurosaki case had been heaven and hell. He had been close to the older shinigami, had been allowed to see a few more fragments of his private life, but afterwards…
Watari sighed.
So now he had slept with Tatsumi, a man who loved someone else, who felt affections and more for Tsuzuki Asato.
<This is all I could have. A one night stand.>
Something inside him ached badly. Very, very badly.
And then it started to hurt.
Sad eyes rested on the sleeping man as he stroked lovingly over the brown hair.
<I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have given in. He doesn't want me… he wants someone else, and I'm just his release. It felt good, but… that was all there would ever be.>
Watari he rose quietly, slipped out of the bedroom and into the shower, cleaned himself off and then went after his task of getting hot tea prepared and a small breakfast into his stomach. He had absolutely no illusions about what last night had been. Tatsumi had needed a release and that release he had found in the gay club. It could have been any one of the young men salivating over the blue-eyed stranger, eyes roaming over the tall, muscular body. Tatsumi might not have noticed, but Watari had. And Watari had been the chosen one.
<Damn, I'm lucky>, he mused with a sad smile as he sipped at his tea.
And he would keep this night as a memory, something he cherished, and he would make sure there would be no awkwardness between them. He didn’t want Tatsumi to think that he, Watari, would use their night of passion to gain something.
 

Too bad his quiet and secretive exit had been thwarted by the appearance of the very man he hadn't really wanted to say good-bye to. Looking into those wonderful eyes he had felt something inside of him twist, had felt his shields crack, and all he wanted was to return to that bed, feel that body… those hands… and lips.
<Dream on. He's not into you, Watari.>
But the words begged to differ.
"What makes you think it was a one night stand?" Tatsumi asked him quietly, the tenor soft and inquisitive, but also… hurt?
It was when Watari froze with disbelief, stiffening slightly.
No… no, please… It had to be a dream.
"Because that's what it was," he heard himself answer.
It had to be. This was a mere dream, his imagination, his secret fantasy. It couldn't be real.
"It wasn't for me."
He felt something inside of him tremble. Still he didn't turn.
Not real, he insisted. Not real!
"Tatsumi…" came the soft plea.
<Don't do this to me! You have no idea how hard it is, to just return to normality, to be nothing but one of the subordinates. Especially now. You're no longer a dream; I had you…>
"Last night you called me Seiichiro."
Another stab. Yes, last night. Last night had been different. Last night hadn't been reality. This morning, last night was a world away.
"Last night was… last night. Today is today. Today you're my superior again," Watari managed, staring at the door that would lead out of here, away from… him.
"In these four walls I'm Seiichiro," Tatsumi stated calmly.
He drew a deep breath. Yes, in these four walls. And he was about to leave them. Once had to be enough, right?
Watari felt something inside of him scream at him not to be an idiot. He squared his shoulders and turned.
"I thought you loved Tsuzuki?" he replied.
Tatsumi stared at him. He hadn't moved, was at the other side of the kitchen, so close and still too far.
He blinked. "Yes," he said slowly. "I love him. I love him as a friend, as a brother. I’m not in love with him. Feelings can change."
A sad smile graced Watari's lips. "Yes, they can. Have yours really changed?"
"A lot has changed. Not just since last night."
Watari said nothing, didn't move, gave no sign what he was thinking – and he was thinking a lot. The agile mind hidden behind unusually colored eyes and a handsome face was racing.
"Taka? Don't go?"
Blue eyes, unguarded, not hidden behind glasses, locked with stunned golden once. Watari looked at a man he had never known. Tousled hair, dressed in a robe, revealing more of himself and his soul than he had ever known him to do to anyone. His thoughts raced more. This was the man he had always wanted to get to know, the man behind Tatsumi, the Shadow Master. This was the man he had made love with last night. This was the man he had called Seiichiro…
"Seiichiro?" he stuttered.
What are you trying to tell me, Tatsumi Seiichiro? What do you want me to hear? What…?
A smile blossomed on Tatsumi's features as he heard him say his name. "I love you, Watari Yutaka," this man who couldn’t be Tatsumi said. "Don't ask me since when, but I do."
The floor moved out from under him and Watari felt himself in free fall. He hadn't expected that.
I love you.
The words echoed in his mind. He hadn't expected that at all.
Tatsumi… loved… him?
"You.. what?" he blurted before he could stop himself. He felt himself shiver.
This couldn’t be. This wasn’t… He had to be dreaming!
Tatsumi approached him, still smiling, a hand reaching for his face to cup one cheek.
"I love you. I love you, 'Taka. Don't go. Stay."
And then lips descended on his and Watari felt the rest of the floor melt away. Tatsumi was one hell of a convincing kisser. It was gentle, slow, soft… so very, very wonderful. And he opened up under him, met that inquisitive tongue, let himself sink into the loving contact that demanded nothing. Arms were around his waist, holding him tenderly.
"That mean 003 can stay, too?" he breathed when Tatsumi released him again.
His whole body tingled, his lips were burning – and it felt so good. He had stopped thinking, was only reacting, and those words had been the first on his mind.
"Huh?"
"Well, you love me, you love my owl."
There was a mischievous glint in those blue eyes. "I even love your penguin if it makes you happy."
Watari had to laugh. His hands were resting on those narrow hips, only the robe separating his fingers from the warm skin. He longed to run his hands over every inch of Tatsumi, hear him moan and cry and his name, wanted to feel Tatsumi again like last night.
"So you want to make me happy?" he teased.
"I think I just said that."
"I'd be very happy if we could maybe return to your bedroom," Watari purred.
"Oh?" Blue eyes darkened a little.
"Yes."
"Then how about I go about making you happy?"
"Wonderful idea."
And those lips were back, this time adding a touch of hunger to the kiss that soon grew as Watari answered it with a hunger of his own. The blond pressed his lips onto the other man’s, feeling Tatsumi yield under his rising passion. Pushing back the man against the kitchen counter, he continued to kiss and stroke, brushing the thin fabric of the robe aside. Tatsumi moaned under him, grabbing the counter behind them, the movement stretching out the slender body in front of his eyes even more.
Watari couldn’t resist tasting the soft skin, lapping at the pulse point of the other man’s throat while his fingers went on a journey again, teasing and touching, until he reached the sensitive skin of the inner thighs, hearing Tatsumi’s breath hitch, feeling those long legs spread. Letting his teeth scrape over one peaked nipple his fingers wandered even deeper, finding Tatsumi already hard and ready. A few strokes made Tatsumi whimper and shiver, and Watari couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his own throat. Pushing a finger even deeper he found no resistance, and Tatsumi cried out softly, moving against the invading digit.
Seiichiro, Watari thought with wonder, I could take you here and now and you wouldn’t even mind.
“’Taka,” Tatsumi moaned, shivering weakly and Watari carefully removed his finger, holding his lover close.
“Bed, Seii,” he whispered hoarsely, and Tatsumi nodded against his neck.
Watari managed to detach himself long enough to turn off the oven, feeling no regret that his breakfast would probably shrivel up and die and go to waste, because what he had here, in his arms, was the greatest treasure.
 

Watari just pushed Tatsumi back onto the bed and got rid of his own clothes in no time, seeing how those blue eyes regarded him, clouded with passion and lust. Tatsumi pulled him down onto him, wrapping his arms around him and spreading his long legs wantonly in a silent plea.
“’Taka … want you … “
And who was Watari to refuse?  Tatsumi gasped and moaned as he entered him, bucking under his touches and meeting his every thrust while devouring his mouth hungrily. A part of Watari was simply speechless as how unrestrained the Shadow Master could become, so opposite his usual demeanor he showed to the world. But yet here he was, panting and sobbing and so beautiful while nearly lost in his desire.
Watari saw no further reason not to give in to that longing of his own and with a strangled cry he buried himself deeper into the other man’s body, hearing him cry out his name as climax overtook them both.

*

Running lazy fingers through the wild, blond strands, Tatsumi felt like humming to himself. His whole body thrummed with the echoes of Watari, of his touches, his kisses, his very being so close, inside and out. Their passion spent for now the two men lay together, Tatsumi cushioning his head against one narrow shoulder, listening to the soft sounds from his lover. Watari wasn't asleep, merely dozing, a blissful smile on his lips, one arm possessively around the older shinigami.
It felt good.
It felt so incredibly good.
Giving himself up, letting go, experiencing all of this and more, having… him. Tatsumi felt his smile grow as he twirled a blond lock around his finger.
Something niggled at him and he frowned a little, still playing with the hair.
"'Taka?"
"Hm?" came the soft noise that told him his partner was currently very much relaxed.
"How do you know about Tsuzuki?"
Watari blinked his eyes open, their amber golden irises reflecting the light in the same fascinating way Tatsumi had seen before, and gazed at the inquisitive face.
"Huh? Tsuzuki?"
"You know what I felt for him once."
It had been on his mind ever since Watari had said it. Not consciously, but it had stuck around.
"Oh, that. Well, I've got eyes, Seii."
The older shinigami blinked. "What?"
"Oh, come on! It was clear as day. Maybe not right away. I mean you and Asato have known each other for a while now and I wasn't around back then, but after Kyoto… even before that… I saw it, Seii. It was in your voice, your eyes, your behavior."
Watari looked unconcerned, was even smiling, as if the whole topic wasn't any more shocking or revealing than the weather.
Tatsumi felt cold all of a sudden. It had been his secret, well-kept and maybe only known by the one entity that knew everything that went on around here, Enma-Daiou.
If Watari knew… who else did?
"Who did you tell?" he asked roughly.
Now there was a look of indignation in those warm eyes. Watari pushed himself up, dislodging the naked man using him as a pillow, and glared at him.
"Now listen here, Tatsumi!"
Oh-oh… back to the formal address…
"I don't go around gossiping, and I sure as hell don't go around blurting out private little things! What happened between you and Tsuzuki is no one's business, not even mine. I know you feel strongly for him and that thing about not getting along with him as a partner is plain bullshit. But -- I – Do – Not – Spread – Secrets! Understood?"
Tatsumi stared at him, nodding dumbly.
Watari's features softened again. He gazed at the older man and reached out, cupping one cheek. The smile was back, warm and reassuring.
"As you said, you loved him, Seii. Very much. And you let him go because of it, because you didn't want to see him get hurt."
"Have you gone telepathic now?" Tatsumi joked weakly.
"No. I just know you and I know Tsuzuki. I thought… well, maybe you might get another chance together." A shrug. "You always looked at him so longingly, you protected him so fiercely… and all he did was react like an innocent child. When he hurts, you hurt. I could see it. I thought there might be a day in the future when you and him…"
"No," Tatsumi interrupted. "No, there never was a chance… Not with him, anyway." Tatsumi pulled the slender man into his arms, caressed him, carding his fingers into his long hair. "You are what I want. Never doubt that. I love you, ‘Taka."
Watari almost purred in pleasure and delight.
"Tsuzuki is my friend," the Shadow Master added softly. "I can't stand aside and see him get hurt, but I don't want more of him than his friendship."
"You have it, Seii. You always had it."
"Yes, I know. He gives it conditionlessly, his friendship, his love, his protection. He is innocent in so many ways, and hardened in so many others. He's a contradiction in itself. You can't but love and want to protect him."
Watari nodded. Of course he knew, Tatsumi realized. The two shinigami were best friends and had always been ever since Watari had arrived in Meifu. And Watari had been ready to simply go, forget their night together, to give the two men a chance.
He tightened his hold, burying his head in the mane of hair. He wouldn’t give up the best thing that had happened to him.
“Love you,” he repeated once more.
Watari’s hands were stroking over his ribcage, soothing, strong and gentle. He echoed the words softly.
Suddenly there was a hooting noise and Tatsumi blinked in surprise as a small, tennis ball-sized owl fluttered into the bedroom, settling on the foot end of the bed. Large yellow eyes regarded the two men.
"003!" Watari exclaimed, a smile on his features as his little companion hooted and hopped into his open palm.
Tatsumi was dumbstruck. Finally he managed a, "What the heck?"
Watari grinned like a little kid, tickling the tiny bird with one finger. "There you are, little one. I know I'm bad. I totally forgot about you!"
003 hooted and looked at Tatsumi, who was still a little speechless. She hooted again.
"How did she get here?" he asked dumbly.
"Well, she didn't take a cab, so I guess she flew?" Watari chuckled, still grinning as he looked up from petting the bird.
"But…"
They lived miles apart! Cities, actually!
"She knows where I live and flew here?" Tatsumi tried to clarify things.
"I don't know about knowing where you live, Seii, but 003 can find me wherever I am," his lover explained as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"I see."
Tatsumi had actually no idea where 003 came from. She had appeared from one day to the next, about a day after Watari had become a servant of Enma-Daiou, and Watari had only said something about her falling into his lap or the like. The owl had become a fixture in this world, a constant companion to the blond engineer, and no one could imagine Watari without her.
003 hooted softly, then butted her tiny head against her master's fingers, nipping playfully.
"Yes, I'm sorry. It won't happen again. You see… I didn't really plan on not coming home."
He hadn’t planned…
Tatsumi gazed at his lover, amazed at his own luck to have this man, to hold him, to love him. Watari had given him a wonderful gift. Tatsumi felt himself under scrutiny again, then the owl just made a few soft noises to herself.
So… had he met approval?
Watari leaned against him as if it was the most natural thing in the world, still holding the bird.
“I hope you plan on staying,” the Shadow Master murmured.
A smile answered him, warm and caring. “As long as you want me to.”
Tatsumi knew he was grinning like a little kid now. “That would be a very long time then.”
“Good.”
A yawn escaped the blond and Tatsumi chuckled. He felt tired himself because even restorative shinigami powers couldn't substitute for real sleep. 003 fluttered onto the wardrobe and looked around the bedroom, then found herself a roosting place, a tiny feathery ball on the edge of his old wardrobe. Tatsumi had to smile a little.
He watched Watari fall asleep, watched the features smooth out, and he smiled to himself.
Yes, this felt good. He felt good. For the first time in this afterlife the loneliness and cold were no longer his only bed partners.
"I love you, 'Taka," he murmured as he settled down next to the naked man in his bed.
As he drifted off himself he thought he heard an approving hoot from above.
Well, so I got your blessings, hm?
Good to know.

 * * *

Monday morning came too fast. From one day to another things changed and Watari watched his lover come to work, dressed in his usual suit with matching tie, hair neat, blue eyes behind glasses that hid so much. His strides were measured, his face gave nothing away, and the blond scientist sighed a little.
More in remembrance than disappointment or resignation.
The past weekend had shown him so much of Tatsumi Seiichiro, so much others would never see. Starting from unguarded blue eyes, a handsome face without the glasses, and the tousled hair, to the nicely shaped, muscular body hidden underneath that well-tailored suit. Yes, he had been privy to something special. To Seii. His lover.
They had talked a lot after finally leaving the bed. Things were clearer now and Watari had been amazed and humbled by the revelation that Tatsumi had admired and loved him from afar for a while now. Jumping over his own shadow, so to speak, and following his heart had been out of the question for the older shinigami, and it had taken this forced vacation, a misjudgment of locations and Watari’s stormy approach to finally push the subject.
Warmth coursed through him and Watari fought down the impulse to smile that silly little smile that had threatened to overtake him on several occasions this morning.
But they had an agreement. This was work; here they were colleagues, occasional partners in a case if need arose, and Tatsumi was still, technically, his superior. Watari could work with that. He was a professional and he wouldn't pounce the man on sight.
Then again…
Golden eyes briefly checked out the tall figure, then he smiled to himself and walked into the lab. He still had his research to finish.
The job came first.
There was always the time after office hours.
They continued to work together on the odd case or two and their private relationship gave them a new understanding of their work relationship on top of that. There was an ease between them that spoke of trust, and Watari savored it.
He loved Tatsumi. Deeply. Unconditionally. And nothing would ever change that.