His mask

You remove his mask first.

It seems a little eager, but you also know that he's already removed your own and that removing his will put you both on even ground. He stands still as your fingers move to remove it, his body so still you're not even sure he's breathing. As each second passes, each moment you take to slowly remove it, both for yourself and to tempt him into impatience, your heart pounds faster and faster--what could he look like beneath that mask of ****?

Finally, you can delay it no longer and pull back, staring upon a visage much like yours, eyes that reflect youth and restraint, though you can see his emotions roiling just beneath the surface. It's just as you remember, as if staring into a reflection. Those days when you couldn't hide your feelings, when even the most simple things could escape if you weren't careful. Though it's now second-nature, as a boy, you were no better than Senbonzakura is. He's what you locked away. Perhaps, if you had allowed it, he is what you would have become.

It doesn't take him long to avert his gaze, eyes trying to hide, to avoid your scrutiny because there's something there that he probably thinks shouldn't be there, something you had felt the same way about for the longest time--lust.

You set the mask down gently--you won't bring any harm to his things, even if they are only there for this single purpose--and approach him, long fingers caressing his jaw, thumb under his chin and you don't bother to search for his eyes when you take the necessary steps closer towards him because you know him as well as he knows you. He will look. He will seek you out. He will not be able to resist someone so close, seeking both comfort and space from them.

His lips part slightly and he makes a sound deep in his throat, as if he wants to ask you something, but it falls before it reaches his lips properly and he looks away again. "Byakuya-sama, I don't have--"

"You shouldn't speak if you don't know what it is you are going to say," you chide, tracing every contour of his perfect face with your fingers, waiting for him to pull away or to accept it. What he does will be your answer.

He doesn't refuse your touch and, eventually, he leans closer, accepting it, eyes concentrating on yours with an icy heat that runs from your fingertips to your very toes.

No more hesitations. You lean forward, slowly, still giving him the chance to retreat, before brushing your lips experimentally across his. Such a sharp tongue, a firm resolve--for all these things you remember about yourself, given birth again by Senbonzakura, his lips are surprisingly soft and inviting. They're warm and that warmth jolts through you. Before your mind can get a say or your spirit can protest, you kiss him deeply, seeking more of that sweet warmth that will wash away any ridiculous, pointless thoughts and consume your heart.

He tenses, unsure of how to respond. He may be a part of you, but he has no experience with these things. You don't have much either, but you do know that leading can be just as much fun as following.

One hand slips down, falls on his waist as you press closer still, ignoring that automatic response that declares you must have space and nibble on his bottom lip, carefully lapping at it while your other hand slips back and lets down his hair. Gentle strokes to calm him, to remind him that he is your pride and joy and if he should refuse anything, he only need say so. You won't hurt your pride...

And he doesn't refuse you. He wraps his arms around you, opens his mouth and the two of you begin something new, something you can't remember from even Hisana. He fights you, tongue pressing and stroking yours, not surrendering to the fact that he's inexperienced, that you initiated it, that he is destined to submit to you.

You don't hesitate to return it, your mind shutting down and your body taking over every function it must do, grinding against the spirit in your grasp. Senbonzakura moans and you feel a swell of triumph. It's so much easier to rouse a reaction and while it seems a little dirty to take advantage of it, it still makes that fire lick at your core and your body burn with desire.

You slowly pry your lips from the eager kiss, panting softly, trying to catch the breath that was stripped from you by this spirit in human form. His cheeks are flushed just slightly, eyes glittering under the glow of the moon and the cherry blossoms with need and want, with curiosity that he can't hide, no matter what he does. This time, he doesn't break eye contact with you.

"Byakuya-sama..."