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Sunday Morning by rasinah
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Author's Notes:

Fic is inspired by the song Sunday Morning, hence that bit of lyrics used in the summary (and also, uh, since I can't come up with a summary). Hee...
Thanks to Elvaron for validating and pointing out the difference between 'blond' and 'blonde'. ^^

 

 

He had dozed off in the bathroom yet again. Miraculously though, Tenpou had managed to wake up on his own. Frankly, he did not mind having Kenren fussing and nagging over him. Why should he refuse the general’s almost wifely antics, since someone would not bother paying that kind of attention to him?

A quick towel-dry (Tenpou then slung the towel idly over the edge of the emptied bathtub) and he stepped back into his room, unabashedly naked. Time echoed in the quiescent space branded by an impressive (dis)array of books, scrolls and other reading materials. It was an alien occurrence in Tenkai, where the sun was glorious for eternity without the need to draw up the blanket of night over its eyes. Tenkai was thus timeless, yet the object that keeps chase with the passing hung in fixated irony on the wall.

A glance was enough for Tenpou to determine the parallel at Down There; seven a.m., which means it was a Sunday morning. Most inhabitants would still be clinging to their covers, refusing the warm welcome of a new day. They preferred the comfort of dreams that helped eased the tension of previous days. Sundays are always great for procrastinating anyway.

He was soon dressed in his usual assemble, the typical indications of his carelessness evident by the rumpled coat and loose tie. Droplets beaded the ends of his long hair still, dampening the area just under the collar of his coat. Tenpou paid no heed, of course. He wadded carefully through his world and managed to reach the door without upsetting the clustered balance. He could just hear Kenren nagging then, and the corners of his lips tugged upwards in mirth.

Greetings floated from left and right as he walked down the corridor, to which he acknowledged ebulliently. Someone asked about the extra spring in his steps, and with a laugh, he answered, “It’s Sunday.” It earned him a baffled look, but Tenpou offered no further explanation, his smile widening mischievously instead.

There was no use explaining anyway. Except for the five ruling deities and himself (perhaps there were others but he doubted so), most of the gods had little knowledge or were just totally ignorant about how things were Down There. Call it God-complex. Arrogance was often always synonymous with immortality.

Tenpou rounded a corner. He intended to just head straight to the portal which would bring him to Down There, but decided on making a quick stop. With luck, he might have a companion to talk over hot coffee and freshly made nikuman.

He reached a room tucked away at the end of the hallway. The door was already opened, and he merely stepped through. There was no one in sight. His gaze traveled to the large desk, the room’s most imposing piece, noting the thin stack of papers atop it. Unfinished paperwork. So where was...

“Tenpou.”

Ah, speak of the devil. He turned towards the doorway, smiling warmly at the blonde who stood wearing a questioning frown. “Okaeri nasai... Konzen.”

The frown deepened slightly. “What do you want?” the blond demanded as he started to cross the room.

“Is that how you greet an old acquaintance, especially one whom you have not seen in quite a while? I’m hurt.” Tenpou raised one hand to his chest for that dramatic flair, but the smile never quite left his lips.

“If you are here just to annoy me, then leave. I have much work to do,” Konzen snapped. He tried to sidestep Tenpou to get behind his desk. “Do you mind?”

Tenpou gave a little sigh, but refused to make way. “Where were you?”

Violet eyes flashed indignantly as they trained upon the Marshall’s face. “It’s none of your business!”

“You’re unnaturally, how should I say this, cold to me. Is there something wrong?” Of course, Konzen had always been distant and in a way, almost arrogant and untouchable. Tenpou had always thought that he was perhaps the only one other than Kanzeon Bosatsu who knew how to handle the complexity that was Konzen. But then, there were still times like this.

“Nothing’s wrong!” the blond insisted fiercely. “I just had an irritating session with the old hag, so shut up already.”

“Ah.” Certainly, annoying hir nephew was almost a hobby for Kanzeon. And Konzen was not one to deal well with his aunt’s sense of humor. But that did not mean that Tenpou believed what the blond said. There was something amiss, he could tell, but trying to get Konzen to admit was as good as not trying.

“What do you want?” Konzen asked again.

Tenpou shrugged easily. “Nothing. I am on my way to Down There to have some food. But I thought I’d drop by here for a while. And if I’m lucky, I may probably get you to join me.”

“Did the kitchen run out of food?” There was a strange incredulous lilt in the question, almost as if the blond knew the kitchen could indeed run out of food and who the culprit might be.

Tenpou chuckled. “No. But it’s Sunday morning now at Down There, and it’s been a while since I had breakfast on a Sunday morning.”

Konzen stared at him. “What’s wrong with getting food from the kitchen and pretending you’re having breakfast?”

“It’s the experience,” Tenpou sighed. “You know we do not have the meals system like they have at Down There. We also do not get to see the sun rise up in the sky, and feel the weather growing hot as it approaches noon.” He turned thoughtful then. “But I’m hoping it may rain today. Have you ever seen rain, the rush of water falling from the sky? It’s beautiful. Mortals do love having rain on Sunday mornings; strengthens the regard for procrastination, an excuse to further bury themselves under their thick covers.”

By now, Konzen had leaned against the desk, arms crossed at his waist. “Trust you to be sentimental when it comes to things regarding Down There. Sometimes I think perhaps it was best if you were born a mortal.”

“You’re not the only one,” Tenpou concurred. He smiled then as a thought flickered to life in his mind.

“What?”

So the blond had sensed something behind the smile. Good to know. “I’m just thinking about how patient you are listening to me. Kenren is never interested when I start talking about such things. He just yawns and nods his head half-heartedly. Terribly rude, don’t you think?”

Konzen looked away. “He’s your problem.” Did he just imagine the tightness in the blond’s voice?

“Konzen...”

“What?”

When Tenpou did not answer, the blond turned his head, and their gazes met. Those violet eyes widened slightly then, and Tenpou knew Konzen had read the mischief in his gaze. The small smile playing at his lips was telling enough anyway. In a movement too quick and worthy of his position, Tenpou had managed to uncross the blond’s arms and was now holding the wrists in a firm but gentle grip.

“Let me go!” Konzen hissed.

Tenpou stepped closer to blond, bodies making contact. He leaned in, his cheek brushing against Konzen’s as he placed his lips close to the ear. “It’s been a long time,” he whispered.

He heard Konzen inhaling sharply. “You bathed,” came the unexpected response.

“Yes,” Tenpou replied with a soft laugh. He pulled back slightly. “Didn’t you notice my hair is damp?”

Konzen did not answer, merely frowned. Tenpou laughed again. It was a silly question to ask, especially of someone who roamed Tenkai as if he was blind and deaf. Tenpou parted his legs then so that Konzen was trapped in between them. The blonde‘tsk’ed and struggled to get loose, but he was no match for the Marshall of the Western Army. If any, he only succeeded in making the contact more intimate. And he realized that, for he stopped struggling and stared daggers at Tenpou. “Let me go! The door is open!”

Interesting choice of words. Tenpou grinned. “If I let you go because of that, it will be very silly of me.” He pressed even closer, forcing Konzen to bend backwards. He guided the blond’s hands to the desk, and pinned them down. He leaned in for a kiss then.

“Goku is going to come bursting into the room any minute,” Konzen warned through gritted teeth.

Tenpou froze, and their eyes met, amused gaze upon heated glare. The Marshall cocked his head to one side, dampened hair falling like a thick drape. “Goku? Ah, he must be the heretic from Down There I heard Kanzeon had placed under your care. Are you his guardian… or keeper?” he questioned, tone light, but he knew Konzen heard the sarcastic hum grazing underneath.

“Let me go!” the blond repeated steadily.

“Why? Wouldn’t it be good for Goku — or anyone else for that matter — to see us like this, especially since there are rumors about you being a pedophile?” Tenpou paused then, looking thoughtful. “Unless it’s true—”

“Idiot!” Konzen hissed. “And I suppose this will put doubts on your relationship with your general as well?”

Tenpou blinked. “General? Kenren? What possible relationship could the two of us have?” So much for Konzen being deaf.

Konzen narrowed his eyes, sharp as a blade as if willing to hurt the Marshall. His lips were stretched into a thin line, sealing answers that were beginning to prick Tenpou’s curiosity.

A dramatic sigh. “I take it you want me to force the answer out of you then.” And before Konzen could refute the comment, Tenpou had already grabbed the blond’s chin with his left hand and forced the latter further back. Konzen fell upon the desk, propped on his elbows, and he stared widely at the Marshall.

Tilting Konzen’s chin roughly, Tenpou flashed a grin before descending his lips upon the blond’s. He had intended to be somewhat arduous in his approach, but the never-forgotten softness of Konzen’s lips chased the intent from his mind. Suddenly all he wanted now was the slow savoring of the blond’s sweet taste, their shared past further flavoring the kiss.

Tenpou was half expecting Konzen to put up a struggle, or at least pull away, but it seemed the blond was caught on the wings of old memories too. Konzen’s free hand snaked inside the coat to grip at the shirt under, tugging him closer. Tenpou moved his own hand from Konzen’s chin to grab a handful of the latter’s hair, feeling. The silkiness was as he remembered, and he smiled fondly against Konzen’s lips.

They pulled back minutes later, a thin strand of saliva bridging their reddened lips. Tenpou slid his hand from the blond tresses down across one flushed cheek, and with his thumb, lightly wiped away the wet stains around the mouth. Clouded violet eyes merely watched his face blankly. That kind of expression seemed to suggest they did more than just kissing. Unable to help himself, Tenpou chuckled, and like a snap of the fingers to the hypnotized, Konzen was snatched out of his languor.

“What?” the blonde breathed, a warm caress against Tenpou’s cool thumb.

“A pity we are not in your room.” Tenpou let his eyes roamed suggestively down from Konzen’s face to the tight tunic-clad body. His eyes lingered at the area where they met, the beginnings of desire stirring, before he reluctantly directed his gaze back up.

“Don’t you already have a husband waiting for you?” the blond scoffed.

“Husband? I don’t have—” Realization dawned upon Tenpou then. Konzen also seemed to realize he had unconsciously gave the answer to the Marshall’s earlier question, for he averted his eyes slightly. “Really? Is that the rumor on Kenren and me? That we have a husband-and-wife relationship going on? Interesting.”

Konzen let go of the Tenpou’s shirt and tried to free his other hand still pinned on the table. “Let me go!”

“Do you mean it?” Tenpou teased, chuckling as he did so. He neared to claim another kiss.

“Let me go!” Konzen’s voice rose a notch.

Tenpou stilled. His eyes searched Konzen’s, now back to their fiery brilliance. Clearly, the blond was angry, but there was something else lurking in those violet depths. That had the Marshall smiling. “Do I strike you as spousal material, Konzen?”

Konzen’s eyes went wide for a moment before narrowing, an innate attempt at defense. “I don’t know, and I don’t care,” he snapped.

“Then I’ll tell you. If I have to, I’d rather be someone’s husband than a wife. I’d rather protect than be protected.” Tenpou’s smile took on a devilish edge then. “Also, you know that I prefer to be on the top.”

“Perverted idiot!”

Tenpou merely laughed and pulled back, tugging the blond along then releasing his hold. Konzen gave another one of his infamous killer glare. Tenpou made way then, still smiling. The blond hurriedly passed by him, retreating behind the desk. “Get out!” he ordered.

“So I take it you’re not joining me for breakfast?”

No answer. In fact, the blond had begun his work. Tenpou sighed. “I guess that means I’m eating alone then,” he said, more to himself. “Still, what a great way to start the morning!” He espied Konzen, who was seemingly engrossed with the papers. He sighed again, knowing that there was nothing more he could get out of the blond now.

He left, promising to drop by again when he returned. “Alternatively,” he had said, “You can always come to my place. It’ll be a nice change.” A derisive snort was what he had received in response, but it sounded promising enough. At least Konzen had not outwardly dismissed the idea.

It was a rainy Sunday morning, after all.



 


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