Closer To God

BY : Sylc
Category: Fruits Basket > General
Dragon prints: 1207
Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: Closer To God
Author: sylc
Summary: After New Year's Day, Hatori is asked to visit Akito (God).
Pairings: Hatori/Akito, Shigure/Akito, Kureno/Akito
Rating: R
Warnings: Het, D/s, Incest, Angst, Spoiler for v17 of manga
Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I make money from this.


"Something wrong?" Shigure asks. He's lying on his side on a futon beneath the window, turned towards the window, a book in his hand. Hatori looks around at him from where he sits at the table, cigarette in hand. "You've barely said a word."

Hatori looks back at the table, takes another draw of his cigarette, leans his chin on his hand. "It's piddling."

"Brother Hatori?"

It's Kureno's voice. Hatori turns in his chair, papers in hand, to look at the man standing at the open door of his office. "Kureno." He scans his cousin's closed expression. "Is something wrong?"

Kureno opens his mouth to respond, then closes it, lowers his head and says, "Akito called for you."

Ah. Hatori rose and placed down his papers, slid a photo frame onto the sheets. "Did she say why?" he asks as he reaches for his coat. Kureno shakes his head and Hatori purses his lips, scans his cousin's face closely, then reaches for his case and turns to leave. At the door, Kureno steps aside for him, but Hatori stops to look at him.

"And how are you?" he asks.

"I'm fine." Kureno shifts as if nervous, turns his head and scans the room pointedly. "May I wait here?"

Hatori's brow knits, but another quick search of Kureno's face tells him nothing. "If you wish," he finally says. Then he turns and leaves.


"How is Akito?" Shigure asks. Hatori blinks.

"She's been down... ever since New Year's Day." he says. "Psychological trauma, same as last time..." Certainly not physically, he silently adds. "But this time, her outburst lasted much longer than usual." He senses that Shigure's listening intently and so grasps fretfully for an explanation. "Yuki's retaliation must have come as a real shock to her."

"Then Yuki ought to take responsibility for it and care for her." Shigure says.

Hatori stiffens slightly. "Don't be daft... Anyway, weren't you there to visit her?" he asks, turning to look at Shigure. He knows that it's true; he saw him when he left the main house. If only Shigure had come a half hour earlier... the thought haunts him. "Isn't that the reason you were over at the main house today?"

"That I was! But I only managed to upset her and was thrown out." Shigure glances up at him from his book, a tight smile on his lips. "She wasn't all too pleased with my attitude y'see..."

Hatori looks at him attentively. He's curious to know what happened, to know what Akito said to the man she seems to loves the most... to know if she say anything to taunt Shigure... to make him suspect.

It's quiet in Akito's rooms, as if the servants have been sent away. After a brief search, Hatori finds her in her bedroom, curled up in her bed as if asleep, eyes closed, hands furled limply before her face. He closes the door and kneels down beside the futon, leans forward to peer at her slack face, wan in the dim light. "Akito," he calls softly, "Akito, Kureno said that you wished to see me."

When there's no immediate answer, he leans back, his eyes hooded. "Shall I come back later?"

"No." Her eyes open and she pushes herself up. As she slouches over, her robe falls open; she's naked beneath. He quickly looks away, then back when she, rather than pull it closed, shrugs it off her shoulders and turns her back to him. "My back hurts."

He purses his lips, swallows as he regards the smooth canvas before him, shifts nervously forward on his haunches so that he's behind her, almost on the futon and the ends of the puddled robe. He doesn't know where to start, isn't sure that he wants to do so... She hasn't made a fuss so he assumes that it's not serious, but then wonders why she's bothered to call him for a small ailment. "Where does it hurt?"

She raises her right arm, bends it at the elbow, lets it fall over her shoulder to slap between her shoulderblades, on top of the sharp ridges of her spine. He reaches out and touches the spot with his fingertips, caresses her smooth skin, and as he grows more confident, puts more effort into the massage, into kneading the soft skin between his fingers, she removes her hand and drops it to her lap, exhales quietly, echoing Hatori's own even quieter breath.

They're like that for a few moments. And then, just as suddenly as the order came for him to start, she's fallen back against him, she's turned slightly towards him -- buried herself against his chest, her hands clutching at his vest like a child. A request for him to stop? He stills, raises his hands hesitantly from the skin, inhales and feels his chest push awkwardly against the weight of the warm body slumped back against him -- the heat sears his skin through his clothes. "Akito?" he whispers. He finds himself staring at the swell of her breasts and looks hurriedly at the back of her dark head that leans just below his chin, the hair soft and silken against his jaw.

He stiffens when he feels her hand brush his bare skin; she's undone some of the buttons on his vest and shirt, slid her hand to his breast. His breath hitches when she brushes the nipple, encircles it with her fingertips. Before he can recover from his surprise, she's removed the hand and started to undo the other buttons, parted both layers and bent her head to lick at the nub.

"Akito." He hisses when she nips on it, feels his breath quicken when she runs a hand down to touch him through the crotch of his trousers. When she starts to rub, he seizes her arm, forcing her to stop. "Akito," he insists, eyes wide. "Wait. Akit..." He stops when she twists her other hand in his tie and falls back onto the futon, yanking him onto hands and knees on top of her. He stares down at her sprawled form, scans her flushed face and open mouth, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, the demand in her expression. His own breathing is loud and fast in his ears. He can feel himself teetering, an animal being dragged by its master to an altar of unspeakable horror, of incalculable despair. It's agony even to see it before him.

And when she, the executioner, tugs again on the leash, dragging him mercilessly onto the altar, he collapses onto her: to kiss and lick her face, her throat, her breasts. To worship her... to attempt to change her conviction. His hands are trembling on her skin, his head clouded as if he is drunk on his desperation... on his hysteria. And when she coils her legs around him, reaches down to free his hardness and urges him into that most private embrace, he feels tears come to his eyes and he doesn't know whether it is the bond or his real heart that is causing them. He doesn't know whether he's sobbing with joy or in despair.


"I'm never the most important person in your life!"

Hatori starts, looks up at Shigure who's concluding his story. His face feels hot and his thighs are tense, but he doubts he's flushed; it's rare for him.

"Fine choice of words..." Shigure adds, "...Seeing as Akito herself... has chosen Kureno."

Kureno was standing at the window when he returned, his back to the door. He turned around when Hatori entered, shot him a searching look. Hatori swallowed, briefly considered striking up a conversation with him, then turned and left the room.

"It's not much of a choice..." Hatori says, glancing at his cigarette and deciding that he'll excuse himself for the bathroom once it has burnt out. "All twelve members of the Zodiac would like to be favoured by God after all..." And that includes him, he silently adds. He wonders if Shigure will notice his use of words.

But Shigure doesn't say anything, insteading changing the topic to Kureno. As Hatori watches his cigarette burn out, listens distractedly to Shigure's words, and waits for a suitable moment to excuse himself, he wonders if it's fortunate or unfortunate that Shigure didn't come that half hour earlier. Or disturbed them on an earlier occasion. Or perhaps... perhaps Shigure already knows.


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