by Koumori


Suboshi woke from his half-sleep with a start, his heart leaping at the crawling sensation of Amiboshi’s message down his arm. Aniki? he scribbled in response.

Thank goodness you’re there.

Your handwriting is terrible.

Sorry. I’m nervous. Tomorrow is the day.

They’re summoning Suzaku tomorrow?


Then tomorrow we can end all of this.

I hope so.

Tomorrow you’ll kill them. And we can be together.

There was a pause before Amiboshi’s reply. Yes, he wrote again, but there was hesitation there. He must be more anxious than he had let on up until now.

Relax, Suboshi wrote with a little smile. It had just been fortunate that the Suzaku seishi had been so unbelievably gullible. Stroll out of the woods, say you’re Chiriko, and you’re in. Hell, maybe if Nakago strolled out of the woods and told them he was Suzaku, they’d believe him too.

His brother was nervous. He could feel that. He was the only one who was. Suboshi had perfect confidence in him, perfect faith. He would do exactly what he’d set out to. Tomorrow, the Suzaku seishi and their pitiful miko would be dead, and they’d be together. Aniki.. I miss you.

Soon, came the reply. We’ll be together soon.

Not soon enough. Suboshi gazed out the window for a long minute, curled on his side. He missed his brother desperately. He could never sleep as well without him, and they had never been apart for so long. He closed his eyes, imagined Amiboshi back with him, reconstructed his comforting warmth, the softness of his hair, his sweet face, loving embrace. Through the bond that joined them, no matter how far apart, he opened his love and his yearning, answered with Amiboshi’s own longing, his reassurance. "Aniki.." The whisper out loud, this time.

Suboshi turned slowly to his back, holding that sweet image behind his closed eyes. Gently, he traced his fingertips down his own face, imagining it was Amiboshi’s cheek he caressed, Amiboshi’s soft lips, Amiboshi’s tender throat beneath his touch. Opening his mind to Amiboshi, willing him to feel the touch, feel how he was missed. Gratitude, pleasure answered him; pleasure that blended into arousal so smoothly and so naturally that Suboshi barely realized it, until he noticed the heat of his blood rising to his skin. Aniki..

His fingers traced down the length of his throat, skimmed his chest. Dreamily, he stripped off his shirt to touch his own skin, grazing the flat of his palms over his chest, tracing a soft abstract filigree over his ribs, up over his breastbone. He could almost hear Amiboshi gasp, could feel his twin’s response as clearly as his own.


Far away, Amiboshi lay still on his bed in the palace of Konan. His blood raced, ached, hot and heavy; his head spun. The way Suboshi was touching himself.. he wanted Amiboshi to feel it. Suboshi kept the link between them open, letting him – wanting him to – feel his love, his hunger, most of all his touch. Phantom hands caressed him, and Amiboshi could not help but respond. "Otouto.." he whispered, answering his twin’s devotion and need with his own, his overwhelming love, basking in the ghostly touch.


Aniki. Aniki. I need you. Suboshi called up his brother’s face, every sweet line and lash. Another few days and they would be together. Not soon enough. Suboshi needed him now, and Amiboshi needed his reassurance. Perhaps he wouldn’t dare to touch him like this if they were together, but he wouldn’t let Amiboshi be alone tonight.

Suboshi let his fingers stray to circle his nipples, stifling a little shiver at the coolness of his fingertips, the way the touch made his nipples harden and ache, dreaming of Amiboshi feeling the same shivery delight. He toyed with them, slowly, exploring the sensations of a caress, a pinch that made him shiver against his will. His own arousal, Amiboshi’s, he could no longer quite keep them separate in his mind. The link between them was as open as it could be, emotion and sensation and experience flowing between them like water. It was almost like being together. Almost.

His clothes seemed to melt from his body. He leaned back into his pillows, gazing down along his body, watching his caress wander down his chest, over his smooth stomach. His breath came in a soft dreamy sigh as the back of his fingers inadvertently brushed the tip of his too-hard shaft, and then he carefully skirted it, shivery-light caresses, teasing himself as much as he teased Amiboshi, wanting to make this last, their intimacy, their closeness. Separated as they were, their minds and hearts and bodies had never been closer.

He could imagine it was Amiboshi’s body beneath his teasing touch, so easily. So often they’d nestled in each other’s arms, comforted one another in their loneliness. He still found it easier to sleep with Amiboshi near. And he knew that people did talk about their closeness, their devotion, found it questionable. No one but his aniki would ever understand. He’d never love anyone but his aniki quite like this. Amiboshi knew it and that was all he cared about. Making his brother happy, easing his anxious heart, telling him how desperately he was loved, that was all that mattered.

He told him with his fingertips, with the feathery touch stealing up his own thigh, his brother’s thigh. "Aniki," he whispered again, the only word that came to him, the only word there was.


Amiboshi let his legs slip apart as the soft touch caressed his thighs, teased the soft flesh inside. He had long since slipped out of the clothes he’d intended to sleep in, and lay naked inside the gauzy curtains of his bed, eyes closed, breath edged with the hint of a moan, his thighs parted to his phantom lover. Suboshi’s presence soothed his troubled mind; his touch eased his heart, an exquisite distraction from his mixed feelings about his mission. When he closed his eyes he could see Suboshi’s face, the love in his brother’s eyes. "Otouto.." he whispered, barely audible. "Otouto.. yes.."

The ghostly caress drifted slowly up Amiboshi’s thigh, flirting tentatively with his balls, gingerly brushing fingertips over them, learning the tight round shape, the smooth taut skin. He groaned softly, letting his head fall back on the pillow and his thighs ease further open; as if encouraged by his response, the invisible hand cupped and caressed his balls, light and warm. Amiboshi’s delight and desire were no longer wholly his own, nor wholly Suboshi’s, a glorious golden melding of their minds and bodies and hearts and a whole so much greater than its parts. "Otouto," he whispered again, and let his hand trail slowly over his own hip, joining his twin’s touch.


"Aniki," Suboshi echoed the low whisper he could not quite hear, but thought he heard all the same. His whole body sang with arousal that began in his blood and heart and flowed through every inch and nerve of him, throbbing between his legs with every pounding heartbeat. He gasped as he felt Amiboshi’s hand join his own between his thighs, brushing tentatively up the line between thigh and body, brushing fingertips gently over the very tip of his shaft, leaving it glistening with musky arousal. Between his own hand stroking his balls and his brother’s loving touch, Suboshi’s skin tingled, ached. How he could be so close to Amiboshi, and still miss him so much..

His hand curved around his shaft at the same time Amiboshi’s touch did, made him sigh and arch into their combined caress. It was as if all four hands were on him at once, his own hand curved around the base of his shaft, gently stroking, caressing the soft skin over achingly hard flesh; his twin’s, unseen, playing tenderly at the very tip, circling, teasing. So good, so sweet, so pure, and the current of emotion flowed hot and wild and loving across the miles between them. He could imagine Amiboshi with him, Amiboshi’s hand smoothing over the line of his hip, Amiboshi’s lips on his.

His hand quickened, tightened, working himself faster, harder. He could drown in slow caresses forever, but he needed more, sensed that Amiboshi did too, that they were both ready. He drew his knees up a little bit, leaned his head back, drew a breath; feeling his twin, so far away, doing the same. Two hands worked his shaft in glorious unison, swift and insistent, waves of pleasure that made him arch and moan; two hands caressed him, stroked his chest, his thighs, his hip. "Aniki.. oh, aniki.." his world reduced to one word, catching on his lips, whispered over and over. Brother.. brother.


Amiboshi’s hips lifted almost off the bed as he stroked himself, rough and demanding now, pleasure rolling over him like a deep and boundless sea, his touch and his need and his desire doubled by Suboshi. He had felt alone here tonight, surrounded by people who cared about him because they thought he was someone else; he had felt alone in this room, in this bed, but now his twin was with him, would stay with him as he always had. He wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Gratitude. Need. Suboshi, above all, the fire in his blood, the joy in his heart, his boundless love, and the rushing swell of ecstasy that made him force his hand over his mouth to hold back a scream as he tensed, crested; as his orgasm took him and a moment later took Suboshi. He could feel it, feel his brother’s sweat-sheened body wrenching against the sheets, his own hot silver seed spilling over his hand, slicking him, splashing his thighs. Yes, oh yes, oh... Suboshi’s ecstasy layered upon his own, drawing out the surge of pure fire, blood-hot, mindless, one word, one word only on his lips. "Otouto.."


The tickling scratch at his arm brought him slowly back to himself, and he looked over. Thank you, otouto.

I miss you.

Tomorrow. It will be over tomorrow.

Just come back.

I promise.

Go to sleep, Suboshi wrote. You have a lot to do tomorrow.

I love you. Sleep well. I’ll see you very soon. I promise.

Aniki.. I love you so much.

Suboshi slipped under the covers and curled up, closing his eyes. Warm, safe, as though he lay nestled in his brother’s arms. Tomorrow. Tomorrow Amiboshi would destroy the Suzaku. Tomorrow the world would belong to Lord Nakago and the Seiryuu. More than anything, tomorrow Amiboshi would come back. Tomorrow they’d be together.