title: Monkey
fandom: Fruits Basket
characters/pairings: Akito/Hatori, Hatori/Ayame
rating: G/Teen
warnings: none
summary: Hatori returns from a trip, and greets Akito.
notes: wrote this for and inspired by Nemiko. ^_^

He was sitting out by the reflecting pool, surrounded by the sensual scent of jasmine, his robes in a disarray around his body. If he had any idea of his own true beauty, Hatori might have believed that he was posed on purpose, but Akito was unconscious of the subtler effects he had on people. His finger made a circle in the water slowly, with almost drunken steadfastness.

Hatori could tell by his breathing that he was having a bad day. It was in the way that his shoulders rose with each breath unnecessarily.

"I brought you something."

Pleasantries were useless, and dancing around the point only served to make Akito restless. The pattern his finger was weaving in the water was broken as Akito stilled, waiting for Hatori could continue.

Hatori placed the small box next to Akito's feet subserviently. "A souvenir."

Akito regarded the box dispassionately.

Most of the time, Hatori resented Akito as much as everyone else in the family. Most of the time, he hated the control Akito wielded so wantonly over all of them as much as anyone else. Most of the time, Hatori resented Akito's existence as much as he possibly could.

Sometimes, he was so awestruck by the cringingly beautiful sense of pain that emanated from Akito, he could barely breathe.

Akito lifted the box gently, holding it by his fingers as if he expected it to slip away. He put the box down in his lap, seemingly spent from the exertion of lifting it. Akito's murky grey eyes met Hatori's. "You're home."

Hatori distrusted this tone of voice from Akito; it was too clever a mask for whatever the younger man was thinking. He said nothing in return, but patiently waited for Akito to open his present.

Akito's fingers drifted elegantly over the box. Akito had an innate sense of grace and dignity that lent him an air of superiority, no matter what the situation. Hatori had sat by his side while Akito had been projectile vomiting, and felt like he was underdressed for the occasion. Akito opened the box, delicately folding back the flap so that he could extricate the surprise inside.

He held his gift up to the light, as if he could get a better idea as to what it was if he could see it more clearly. He turned his puzzled eyes to Hatori, and Hatori could just faintly make out the flickers of annoyance that were harbingers of Akito's rage.

"I was thinking about you in the airport, and I saw it. I thought it was meant for you." It was a dim explanation that only hinted at the reality of the purchase. In Hatori's mind, every moment seemed delineated, interconnected in a web-like array of individual threads, so that to pick out the single reason for the purchase was a waste of effort, anyway.

Akito accepted his words. He poked his long, pointed fingernail into the belly of the tiny monkey. "This is an American toy?"

"I suppose." Hatori had no idea if the thing had a history. It wasn't that complicated of a gift.

Akito's lips curled absently. "And the three of you had a good time, I suppose."

Hatori was cautiously silent in the face of Akito's airy words. It was better to let Akito go wherever he intended sometimes; attempted to thwart or placate him too soon only served to aggravate him further.

"It was generous of me to allow it."

The words were pointed, sharp, and Hatori reacted right away to their sting. He reached out, putting his hand on Akito's thin, boney shoulder, and placed a tender kiss on Akito's lips. The younger man was too weak, too drawn out from whatever bout with illness was affecting him. Otherwise, Hatori would have allowed himself a deeper embrace. There was a heady quality to Akito's mouth, a sort of aftertaste that washed over him in times like these, that fueled him onward.

But now was not the time for such things. Akito was too weak. Otherwise, he wouldn't be out here, dressed as he was. Hatori knew Akito's habits as he knew the routines of his own days.

Akito drifted back away from him with a smile. "Thank you, Hatori. I would be alone now."

Hatori nodded, and stood up. He bowed briefly but respectfully to Akito before turning to walk away.

He walked efficiently back to his own house, set back behind the main house. He was fortunate to have private quarters because his rooms were attached to the doctor's offices. The family's health records were substantial, and required a great deal of space. Hatori really needed an aide to help him organize things; the last family physician had a wife who did all the filing.

He wasn't surprised to see Ayame in his room unpacking his things. Ayame had packed the bags in California with haphazard frenzy, and as a result, he had mixed all their things together. Shigure had defended his suitcases with paranoia all throughout the trip, which struck Hatori as being unusually clever of him.

Ayame threw one of Hatori's waistcoats over his shoulder in exasperation. "I know it's in here! I packed it myself! So did you give the King Brat his toy?"

Hatori inclined his head. Aya was wearing just the thin sheath that he wore under his gowns. It was easier to see the lines of the muscles across his back, and the narrow cut of his waist. Hatori licked his lips; he still had the taste of Akito on his brain.

He put his arms around Aya's waist from behind, pulling Aya back to kiss his neck. Aya sighed with mock exasperation.

"I'm not done here yet!"

Hatori turned Aya around, and wrapped his arms around Aya. Aya was not the slight boy he had been when they were growing up. There was a masculine power to his beauty now that was like a gravitational field around him. Hatori plundered his mouth, holding Aya's head in place with a hand on the back of his neck.

Aya was gasping for breath, his eyes wide. "Hatori, you slut. And people think I'm the one with the loose morals!"

Hatori didn't have time to respond to Aya's taunt; he was busy. He knocked the suitcases off of his bed, and pushed Aya down. There were too many buttons and strings and layers and zippers. Then the obstacles were removed, and the pressure magnified. Aya's eyes were wide and dark, his body tight and hard, and Hatori cut his lip choking back his screams.

His senses drowsily returned, and he could have sworn that there was jasmine in the air.








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