Spellbound * (3/6) By Sakata Ri Houjun

Warning: It gets rather lemony at the end.


The air shimmered between them as Genrou set Houjun down on a chair in the kitchen. "There's a cobalt-blue bottle in the cupboard. Would you fetch it for me and a glass, no da?"

Genrou opened the door and found bottles of all colors and shapes. "Which one of these did you put in my sake last night?"

Houjun sighed heavily. "Genrou, I put nothing in you drink, no da. I gave you a sleep spell, a harmless one, because you needed it."

He found the blue bottle and set it and a glass on the table. Houjun poured a bit into the glass and sipped.

"It's only herbs, no da. And a touch of magic for energy, na no da."

"I don't believe in magic."

A glint of amusement was in his eyes. "I'll set to working on that soon enough."

"But I'm willing to consider some sort of psychic connection."

"That's a beginning then, no da."

Genrou could accept some sort of connection, for it had been his voice echoing through his dreams, his face floating through his memory. "So when is this anniversary you spoke of earlier?"

"Tomorrow night."

"Cutting it close, aren't you?"

"You didn't want to hear me. Why did you stop answering, Genrou?"

He couldn't deny it. He'd been pulled to the cerulean-haired man no matter how he struggled. Accept this, he realized, or accept insanity. "Because I wanted to be normal," he admitted.

"So you rejected me, and the gift you'd been given, for what you see as normalcy?"

"It was driving me fucking insane."

"It wasn't meant to be a burden, but a joy."

"Where the hell is my choice in all this?"

"The choice has always been yours, no da."

"Fine. I don't want any part in this."

"And me, Genrou. Do you not want me as well?"

"No." It was a lie that burned on his tongue. "I don't want you."

Genrou heard the laughter, a nasty buzz on the air. Then saw fear leap into Chichiri's eyes even as the older man whirled and flung himself in front of him like a shield.

"Iya!" his voice boomed full of power and authority. "You are not welcome here! You have no right here!"

The shadows in the doorway swirled, coalesced, formed into a woman. She wore black robes on a slender frame. And had a face as beautiful as any fairy-tale princess.

"Chichiri, your time is short." Her voice was laced with dark amusement. "There is no need for this war between us. I offer you such power. You've only to take my hand, accept."

"Do you think I would? That a thousand years, or ten thousand, would change my heart, Mikuni?"

"The wait is nearly at an end." Mikuni lifted a hand, and thunder crashed overhead. "Send the bandit away and he goes unharmed. If he stays, his end will be as it was before, and I will have you, Chichiri, unbound or in chains. The choice is yours."

Houjun lifted a hand, and light glinted off his palm. "Come to me now, Mikuni." His voice was a sultry dare. "Do you risk it?"

"Tomorrow night, Chichiri." Her gaze flickered to Genrou, amusement shining dark. "You, bandit, remember death?"

There was a sudden sharp pain stabbing into Genrou's belly. It burned like acid, cutting off his breath, even as he gripped Houjun and shoved the older man behind him, his instincts taking over.

"Touch Chiri and you die," he growled menacingly.

And so she faded, leaving only an echo of taunting laughter. Genrou pressed a hand to his stomach, half expecting to find blood, or worse, dripping through his fingers.

"She can't harm you, no da." Houjun's voice registered dimly. "She can only deceive you with pain. It's all tricks and lies with her."

"I saw her. I saw it," Genrou said, dazed.

"Hai. She's stronger than I'd believed, and more rash, to come here like this. Mikuni is full of lies, Genrou. You must never forget it, no da."

"I fucking saw her," Genrou repeated, struggling to absorb the reality. "I could see through her."

"She wouldn't dare risk coming here in full form. Not as yet."

"You said she was a demon but she looked at you with desire."

"Hai, she wants me. She has broken into my dreams and shown me just what she wants. She disgusts me," he said trembling and pressed his face against Genrou's shoulder.

Genrou brought the smaller man close. "She won't touch you, Houjun." His lips then found Houjun's. All the confusion slid away as he melted into that kiss. Whatever had brought him here he would face.

Houjun's heart hammered fast as he nipped at his lip, urging the redhead on. Genrou heard Houjun moan his name, then whisper words ripe with longing. The words were of an ancient dialect, yet he understood them.

"Koi," Houjun whispered. "It's been a lifetime. Aishiteru, no da." Slowly he unfastened his shirt and parted the material, letting it slide to the floor.

Genrou kept his golden eyes locked on that familiar gaze. "You said that to me before."

Emotions swirling, he smiled. "I did. A thousand years ago."

Genrou remembered. Houjun had offered himself before without restrictions. And he'd lost himself in that love.

"You used to have a scar too, didn't you?" He reached up and ran a thumb over the left cheekbone, just below the eye.

Houjun nodded once, his hands moving to remove Genrou's shirt. The younger man shook his head, and the image of the scarred monk faded away. Memory or imagination, it no longer mattered. He knew only one vital thing.

"Whatever happened before, this is real."

He scooped the cerulean-haired man into his arms, and he stared back, spellbound. Houjun could taste the sharp edge of his passion as he laid him on the bed. "What about the rest of our clothes, no da?" he managed a quick smile.

"I'll take care of that. Lie back, Houjun. I want to see you with your hair flowing over the pillows." Genrou watched the older man's expressions as he finished undressing them both. "I don't know what I believe. Except one thing. This matters. Here. Now. You matter."

"Love me, no da." Houjun drew the younger man's mouth down to his own. "I've been lonely without you by my side."

It was slow and sweet. Sighs and secrets, tastes and textures. They filled their hands with flesh and their hearts beat thickly. The sun warmed their bodies as pleasure ran rampant. And the love that was held so long in Houjun's heart bloomed like a flame.


Blood thundered in Genrou's head as Houjun moaned the name of that bandit. But it felt right to hear that name spilling from his lips just as his seed spilled into his hand.

"Chiri." He barely registered the name coming from his own mouth, but it felt even more right. They made love well into the night, their rhythm ancient and sure as though they were made for each other.

As the tension drained form their bodies, they simply held one another. "None of this makes any fucking sense," Genrou whispered. "Am I supposed to believe that I just made love to a monk?"

"You've had visions since you were a child, Genrou, no da."

"I may be younger than you, but I'm not a child anymore."

"You never were, koi. It was a gift you were given, no da."

"It's too much for my head to understand." He sat up, shaking his head. "I don't know what I feel."

"Then forget about it for tonight, no da." Houjun pulled him down again in an embrace. "Just kiss me, koi."