Centuries Later

Zoisite carefully brought the quill down on the paper, watching carefully as he made the intricate loops and swirls of the Kingdom's native language. It was usually something he could do in his sleep, something Kunzite had taught him in their classes so long ago, but this time, he performed the duty with the utmost care.

Swirl, and loop. A funny stylized gesture that only the ancients had used, but he had learned because it had seemed interesting. This writing was more than an exposition of thought; it was a ritual, a sacred movement from the dawn of time. Its intricacies overwhelmed the very corners of his mind.

Just as he wished. Just as it had to be.

Kunzite was also writing, sitting stoically across from him and sharing the same desk. Zoisite peeked at him from under his lashes, wondering how far the First King's indulgence would see him through. Not far, probably. Though they had long since become lovers, Kunzite still treated him like a second class servant. There was no care, no concern in his gestures. The times they came together were nothing more than a bodily release and not an emotional sharing.

Surely that was the truth. Oh, there had been flickers of deeper emotion, but those weren't to be trusted. He was Kunzite's servant, nothing more.

Zoisite couldn't tell him. He wouldn't tell him.

Swirl, and loop. A sharp slash, followed by a smothered dart. Zoisite laughed grimly under his breath. Smothered. That was surely how he felt. Smothered and without breath, slashed through with no hope for redemption. Kunzite just wouldn't care... he couldn't tell him.

He closed his eyes briefly, his hand stilling on the page. For a while, he had almost let himself believe... he had been able to pretend that there was something between the two of them. He had tried to convince himself that there was a tenderness, a gentleness... something worthwhile in their long years of darkness. Even if he recognized their bond was paltry and merely the shadow of what could be... it was something special. It was something that no one else had been able to accomplish.

But now... even his illusions could be shattered. Finally, something had happened to call this bond into prominence... and he knew it wouldn't hold up. It couldn't; it wasn't even supposed to exist--and if it was, he doubted something like that was supposed to thrive between rival Kings. It just wasn't possible. In fact, he was probably imagining the whole thing.

Before... before it --the event he could not speak of-- had happened...there had been nothing to call the bond into question. He could have merely lived on, privately growing happier at the thing that should not be. It would never have been tested or tried, of course, its value never discovered and thus not worthy of mention, but neither had it ever been disavowed. This trial was too much; it was too hard. Any bond that existed between them would now be put firmly back in its place.

And its place was worthless. A mere secondary consideration. A tactic to be used for manipulation and nothing more. It was something that could never get in the way of duty and could never be indulged for its own sake.

Zoisite thought that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to continue pretending. If he merely held his tongue, if he did not speak, then he could continue believing that the bond between them was something worth having. Even if he could never bring it to the light and allow it to shimmer brilliantly between them, he would never succumb to the disappointment that would overwhelm him if he brought it out only to see that it really wasn't there.

"Zoisite. Focus."

Kunzite's voice snapped him out of his reverie, and he resumed his placid scrawl across the parchment. Greetings to Beryl, making sure it contained all the proper obeisance and subservience. A minor report, not too complicated--she didn't understand the sublties of governance. A small reminder bringing to mind their own abilities and the fact that they were still useful to her. A threat, that they have survived without her when she had been thought dead.

No, perhaps he should take that last part out.

Backtrack, and erase.

His pen stilled once more. That was what he was trying to do; he was trying to pretend that an important event had not occurred. That was not the action of a King; it was the action of a coward. He would have to tell Kunzite; it was his duty. Perhaps the First King could make use of the situation.

Zoisite snorted. He didn't believe that for a second-- it wasn't that important. So he had been raped. Again. Even if this time the perpetrator was Nephrite and not Kunzite himself, (not that Kunzite had needed any sort of force since they had willingly come together long ago) Kunzite could do absolutely nothing with the situation. It was a personal matter and not a political one. Seeking reprisal or revenge would not be a logical move, and so Kunzite would not seek such things. He would close his eyes as the situation warranted, and prove that he personally did not care. He would prove that there really was no bond between the two of them.

Zoisite sighed again. He really was beginning to be a sentimental idiot, wasn't he? Kunzite would act as he needed to act; he would not be foolish to salve Zoisite's hurt or pride. He would do as he had to; they both would. Zoisite resumed writing.

"That is the sixth time you've faltered, Zoisite," Kunzite spoke again. "Why are you preoccupied?"

Zoisite didn't look up as he continued writing. The man had the damnedest ability to read things he did not want known in his eyes; it had caused more than one embarrassing situation between the two of them. Now would not be one of those times. "It's nothing, Kunzite-san," he replied softly.

"Out with it," Kunzite ignored the dismissal.

Zoisite sighed, and continued to avoid the older man's gaze. "It really is nothing, Kunzite-san," he told him, "Merely a personal matter. Nephrite caught me alone in the corridor leading from Beryl's Grand Hall..." Zoisite shrugged. "You know what happens in those halls."

Silence.

Zoisite held his breath for a second or two, and then decided he was being foolish. He continued writing.

"You were not strong enough, then?" Kunzite asked him, his voice calm and unaffected by the news.

Zoisite shook his head. "No." Then more quietly, "Forgive me for being such a failure in my training."

Another weighted silence, and then Kunzite answered. "The Second King has always been more powerful than you, Zoisite," his voice was calm, disciplined, the voice of a patient and uninvolved teacher. "You should not have been caught unaware."

Zoisite nodded quietly, expecting little else. "I know. I will have to practice more." He finally lifted his face, allowing himself to see into Kunzite's eyes. They were blank and uninterested, just as he had imagined. Something died in him then. "I won't fail you again, Kunzite-san," he told him, and then dropped his eyes back to the parchment.

"Good," the First King replied.

And just like that, the matter was concluded. Zoisite continued writing, trying to blink back the odd tears that threatened his vision. He hadn't expected anything more; he had no call to be disappointed. Everything had occurred just as it should-- it had been routine.

Well, he had wondered about the bond, hadn't he? Routine verses special. It seemed he had his answer.

Suddenly, the tears overwhelmed him; he ducked his head further, surreptitiously trying to wipe them away. He had to get hold of himself... he really did have to train more. Perhaps away from the situation he would be able to regain control. If he got away, he'd be able to act as he should...

"Kunzite-san," he addressed the other man, keeping his voice low so his choked throat would not be in evidence, "I would like to request a transfer."

"Oh?" Kunzite replied, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes," he replied, still not meeting the other's gaze. "I would like to take a sabbatical... to improve my skills. This... encounter... has shown me how much I need improvement."

Both physically and mentally, he thought inwardly. How could he have developed any sort of fellow feeling for Kunzite? The man broke him, raped him, submitted him to his will... and now this. There really was no bond between them, at least nothing more than comradeship at the very most. In fact, his feelings were probably nothing more than Stockholm syndrome, he thought to himself. He'd merely fallen for his captor--for the only stability in his reality. It happened all the time. Like others, he knew that with time... and distance... he'd get over it. Leaving was probably for the best.

"I'd like to go to my fortress in North Fiach," he told Kunzite, naming a place millions of miles away from Beryl's central capital. At least this way, no one would drop in "accidentally"; it would give him time to recover, and get his own back. Perhaps, in time, he might even act like a rival king should, and try to scheme his way into taking some of Kunzite's power. Perhaps... but he rather doubted it, all told. Even now, the geas still held. But in the very least, he should be able to gain a measure of independence from the First King and lose some of his embarrassing sentimentality. "Everything has been quiet, lately," he continued speaking, "I doubt you'll have need of me for the next decade or so."

Zoisite felt Kunzite's gaze upon him and wondered what the elder was thinking. The First King probably knew this to be the escape it was; he usually knew Zoisite's thinking patterns inside and out. However, his reasons, no matter that they were really excuses, were still valid. He really did need the training. Nephrite had proven that.

"You do realize," Kunzite began, "that I won't be able to help you in your training from such a distance? I've been ordered permanently to Beryl's side... and so has Nephrite, for that matter. I'd like to keep an eye on him." Fingers tapped on the desk as Kunzite appeared to think. "I wouldn't see you for a long time... but perhaps that is just the training you require. In fact, I've been thinking of establishing a tighter reign on that sector; with you as permanent governor, my plans would fall out nicely."

Zoisite nodded. "So you'd rather have me out there in any case." Funny, how that hurt. He'd at least expect Kunzite to ask --or force-- him to stay, but this absolute indifference pained him. It really had to be Stolkholm syndrome, he thought. He was so used to being on a tight reign beside Kunzite that anything else felt painful. That was the only explanation for what he was now feeling. It really was interesting how one could so easily be acclimated to capture...and how one could feel abandoned and rejected when finally set free. "It seems to fit both our purposes, then."

Kunzite nodded in return, and Zoisite thought of planning his new home.

It won't be too bad, he thought to himself. After all, Kunzite could easily find a new bed partner... and so could he.

* * *

Zoisite shook his head, trying to clear the stars from his vision. Jadeite's face swam above him, grinning cheekily as Zoisite tried to regain his footing.

"You really do need work, Zoisite-san," the blonde man said, pulling Zoisite to his feet. "I'm glad Kunzite-san gave me leave to come with you. You need more practice with the physical stuff."

Zoisite frowned then, and Jadeite laughed down at him. "Now, just hold on, Zoi, don't get all weirded out on me. You're fighting like Kunzite-san does, and with your size, you can't do that. Anyway, you've got some really good magical skills-- you really ought to use them more often."

Zoisite glared up at him, but it was a half-hearted glare. "That's what Kunzite-san always says," he muttered.

Jadeite laughed, and Zoisite couldn't help but hear how much of it was genuine. It had been a long time since Jadeite had been able to act normally, and it was still rather rare. Most people only saw the stolid and cool Third King. Zoisite himself was lucky. In the centuries following the Defeat, Jadeite had seemed to forgive him his 'treachery', which probably wasn't too difficult considering that Jadeite now worked for the First King as well. In any case, it was good to have him as a friend once more.

"Let's call it quits for today," Zoisite suggested, and smiled as Jadeite quickly acquiesced. "You've taken quite a beating yourself, it seems."

Jadeite looked down at his sweat-soaked outfit, and nodded ruefully. "So it does seem," he agreed reluctantly.

After cleaning up and eating, the two Kings reclined lazily on couches, reviewing their separate reports and delegating tasks to youma. After some length, Zoisite regarded Jadeite curiously. "So tell me, what news from the capital? It's been awhile since I was down there."

Jadeite smiled grimly. "Indeed it has. Two months might as well been two years as far as your absence has gone. You wouldn't imagine the things that have been going on."

Zoisite snorted. "I can probably guess. Let's see... Nephrite still on his own, and sucking up to Beryl. Kunzite-san running rampant over the both of them." He smirked, but it was a rueful expression. "Why else would he no longer have need of the both of us? Its been hard work up here, but nothing that a senior youma couldn't handle. And now you... why in the Darkness has he sent you up here? The region doesn't need two Kings."

"No, it doesn't." Jadeite sounded puzzled. "I was told, actually, that you had requested this assignment for yourself. That Kunzite didn't actually order you to it."

"Hmmm," was Zoisite's response. "I asked for a bit of a sabbatical. For training, you know."

"Huh. That's odd. 'Bout two months before you left, I asked for the same thing... I was denied. And now, I'm practically booted out here, like it or no."

"What's that?" Zoisite turned to him, frowning. "I was under the impression that you requested this assignment."

Jadeite shrugged. "Oh, don't get me wrong, I wanted to be here. But after the first rejection, I had decided to wait awhile. And then, all of a sudden, Kunzite gets it into his head that he wants me to be here. So here I am."

Zoisite arched an eyebrow at that. "So, the First King himself sent you here? Huh." He snorted. "Probably sending you over to baby-sit me. Make sure I'm being useful and all that. He's always hovering over my plans."

Jadeite nodded slowly, a strange expression in his eyes. "You know, that's not quite right." At Zoisite's quizzical expression, he continued. "The hovering part, I mean. I don't think its exactly that... more like he actually pays attention," he finished slowly.

"What do you mean?" Zoisite asked.

"Well," Jadeite began, "have you noticed how many of your plans he's actually implemented? Now, don't get me wrong," he said hurriedly, reacting to the offended frown growing rapidly on the other's face, "I'm not accusing him of undue favoritism. Your plans deserve the time he gives them. It's just that now... I don't understand."

"What do you mean?" Zoisite slowly but firmly articulated, beginning to get impatient.

Jadeite shifted uneasily on his couch. "Let me start from the beginning... you've been gone for quite a while. The Court is not as... stable... as it was when you first left."

"Really?"

"Really. That's what has me so confused. I would think that Kunzite would have you dragged to his side by now, kicking and screaming if need be. Instead, he's letting you go off on your little sabbatical and then sends me after you... for what I consider little more than giving you some company. I don't get it. Especially at a time like this."

"'At a time like this?' Why? What's been happening?" Zoisite questioned, beginning to get a little worried.

"Kunzite has been administering Nephrite's sector. I'd have guessed that he'd ask for you back, to handle his own sector, but he seems to be getting along on his own just fine."

"Nephrite's sector? How'd he accomplish that?"

"I haven't the slightest clue. Probably some sneaky Kunzite deal... who really knows? Whatever the case, he's almost doubled his power now. Which is why I don't get it."

Zoisite nodded, understanding. "With such a new power transfer, you'd think he'd need his two best senior officers. As in... us."

Jadeite shrugged. "Exactly. But he only recently ordered me here. With you."

* * *

Zoisite sighed, blowing puffs at air at the hair that fell across his face. After two weeks of surveying intelligence reports, he still didn't understand why Kunzite hadn't summoned him back to the capital. True, it wasn't as if the First King was in dire need, his position was still very strong, but things would have been easier if Zoisite was there.

There was no reason Kunzite should not have summoned him back; for all intents and purposes, the northern sector was secured. The only possible reason holding him back was his need for training, but he doubted such a consideration would be held over the need to consolidate Nephrite's power into their own.

"I just don't get it," he muttered under his breath. "Kunzite, what are you doing down there?"

"I ask myself that question every day."

Zoisite smiled, turning at Jadeite's wry tone as he joined him in the room. They both were champing at the bit these days; sabbatical was nice, but they had both been trained for greater things and to be held back in this manner in an apparent time of need...

"Back from another training bout?" Zoisite asked him, noting the light work-out jumper he was wearing.

"Yes. Again."

Zoisite snorted. "And again and again and again. We're on fucking vacation! This is the Dark Kingdom, and we, the Third and Fourth Kings, are on a fucking vacation!" He slammed his fist onto the desk beside him, close to bursting with exasperation. "What the bloody hell is going on around here?"

"You've got me," Jadeite muttered, flopping down besides Zoisite.

"I'm going to go insane," Zoisite told him, continuing his tirade. "I'm going to go bloody insane from this inactivity. Next time I decide to go on self-imposed exile, remind me of how everlastingly boring this is!"

"Sure, Zoi. Whatever you say," Jadeite then turned to look at him curiously. "Speaking of which, why did you choose to go on this 'self-imposed exile'? This isn't your usual kind of assignment."

"Training, you moron," Zoisite muttered. He really didn't want to go into his reasons for leaving Kunzite's side; as time went on, they were losing whatever sense they had ever had, even to him. "I've already told you that."

"Is that really all?" Jadeite asked him.

Zoisite stared up at him, a serious frown beginning to form on his face. "Of course it is," he lied easily. "What other reason could he possibly have?"

Jadeite regarded him for a second, his eyes thoughtful. He pursed his lips as if worried, than looked uncertainly into his friend's eyes. "Zoisite," he began carefully, "We're... okay... right? I mean, with each other."

Zoisite sat up quietly, regarding his friend in kind. "Yes," he said firmly, "we are." He gazed at the other steadily. "I consider you to be my closest friend."

Jadeite bit his lip, the nervous gesture rather uncharacteristic to Zoisite's eyes. "Your closest friend?" he asked quietly. "Are you sure?"

The blonde head bowed slightly, and Jadeite continued very quietly. "Zoisite... you should know there are rumors about you. About... you and Kunzite. That his using you... is more than just use."

Zoisite looked away. "That's ridiculous," he told the other man, "and you know it. I was Kunzite's 'trusted' slave, bed slave as well, I admit..." he sighed softly, "but that was all. There was nothing more between us, Jadeite."

"Are you sure?" came Jadeite's concerned voice.

"Only what was proper," Zoisite replied, and even he could tell his voice was slightly bitter. He looked up at Jadeite, and smiled rather grimly. "And in any case, even if it wasn't, you know I wouldn't tell you such a thing. Friends or not... this is the Dark Kingdom, and we are rival Kings."

Jadeite nodded grimly in return, though he smiled briefly in something resembling reassurance. "Of course."

Silence reigned between them for the next few minutes, but then Jadeite spoke again. "Zoisite, what if I... what if the rumor were applied to me? I mean," he continued at the younger man's guarded look, "if I found... happiness... with somebody, how would you feel about that?"

Zoisite thought about it carefully. Hope, maybe. Joy, possibly. Most certainly a quiet sense of envy, but surely nothing more. He regarded Jadeite carefully. "I'm not really sure," he told him, but his eyes communicated the truth with his friend, even if he wasn't willing to put it in words.

Jadeite nodded, biting his lip in silence, and then he seemed to reach a conclusion. "Zoisite?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"And what would you do?"

Zoisite regarded him carefully. "I would use that knowledge against you," he stated, knowing as he did so that the words were lies. He would never harm Jadeite, not purposefully; he had held to that vow since their training days. But he knew that Jadeite wasn't really describing his own situation; he was describing Zoisite's... and Zoisite couldn't trust him that much, no matter their friendship.

"I see," he said, but Jadeite's eyes told him that his friend knew his words for falsehood. "Zoisite," he said calmly.

"What?"

Blue eyes bore into his own. "I would do it anyway," he told the other steadily.

Zoisite jumped to his feet, suddenly and inexplicably angry. "Would you?" he snapped. "Even if the other were just like me, and would use the knowledge against you? Even if he used such a thing to merely control you further? How could you ever," and he was practically spitting, "trust him that far?"

Jadeite regarded him quietly, ignoring the question. "Some things," he stated softly, "are worth fighting for."

Zoisite stormed from the room.

* * *

The Fourth King stood silently by the window. It wasn't a very practical piece of architecture, he knew; in fact, it was downright dangerous. Only Kunzite's magic held a forcefield in place, strengthening the glass windows with his own hard-won strength.

Fragility and power. Vulnerability and beauty all embodied in a section of the fortress. Zoisite knew he should be touched by the gesture, but again... he was probably reading too much into things. The window had been a gift to him, true, but it was only to shut up his whining in bed. Zoisite grew claustrophobic far too easily, and the last time both he and Kunzite had lived this deep in the cavern-like fortress, the First King had succumbed to his younger ally's demands.

As if Kunzite could ever really be swayed. No, that was Zoisite's forte, his particular form of expertise. He was constantly being swayed, like a mystical earth tree in some forgotten breeze. This way and that, this path and that... he was constantly changing his course and his actions and his feelings. And yet, there was a lodestone to his pendulum of behavior, a stability that could not be denied.

Back and forth, but always on a string. Back and forth, and yet always weighted, always tightly secured. No matter his words or gestures, his actions always pointed him back to one origin, one source of guidance. He was always rocking frantically, but it was always to a single irresistible finger.

He laughed at himself, but his voice was dark and bitter. If only that guidance was useful, if only it made him happy. But that was ridiculous. He existed in a dark place, and only the strong had any place therein. These more tender feelings had no reality in his world; he could not allow them. He could not allow him.

And in any case, there was nothing to allow. There was nothing between them...nothing substantial between him and his 'guide'. He had once thought that maybe there could be something, but he had been wrong. Like the weight on a pendulum, and like a moon circling its beloved planet, a true joining could only result in disaster.

A planet's inhabitants would destroy the moon before letting that happen. A pendulum would be cut before it would be tangled. That was the way things were, and would always be.

But sometimes he wished... and sometimes he missed him so much.

Damn Jadeite anyway for bringing it up.

* * *

It was days later when Jadeite finally brought the report to Zoisite.

His face had been puzzled, his voice unsure. He had carried the parchment as one would carry a pet poisonous snake-- wary of both protection and irrevocable damage. Silently, he had handed it to Zoisite.

"Spared by Metallia," the Fourth King read aloud. "Illogical move. Expected to be killed on sight for his behavior. No possible explanation found. Only luck that he survived."

Zoisite looked up at Jadeite. "What," he asked, "does this mean?"

Jadeite frowned down at the parchment, his face puzzled. "Remember how I was wondering how Kunzite gained possession of Nephrite's holdings? Well, it's because Nephrite isn't capable of handling them anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"I thought it was common knowledge, actually. Kunzite attacked Nephrite personally, around two months ago, in a private duel. The Second King survived, but barely. I didn't really understand how he had made Nephrite accede to such a request, or why Beryl allowed it... but this letter explains it."

Jadeite stared at Zoisite, his face slack in astonishment. "Kunzite was never granted dueling rights. In fact, he was denied them."

Zoisite slowly sank back down to his couch, his hands trembling as he pressed them into his lap. "He did it anyway," he stammered softly, "for no gain. Knowing Beryl would be very, very displeased with him."

Jadeite nodded, joining him as he flopped down on the couch. "Beryl wanted to kill him for it. Would have killed him for it, in fact. But Metallia intervened. Kunzite gained immeasurable wealth from his maneuver... but he couldn't have known..."

Jadeite looked over at Zoisite, his mouth working soundlessly for a second before he visibly pulled himself together. "Why," he asked, "would Kunzite do such a thing?"

Zoisite looked away, his face burning. He knew why Kunzite had done it; in very beginning, he had hoped Kunzite would react that way. He had wanted the protection and the vengeance for his rape... and the concern. The tender possessiveness. And now he had it.

It was impossible. It was true.

He turned back to Jadeite and found the other staring at him curiously. As he watched, the older face brightened in wondrous amazement, and then smirked in quiet knowledge. "Oh," the Third King commented. "I see."

But Zoisite's mind was far away. He knew, finally, that it was time to end his exile... that it was time to stop running. It was time to return to the capital.

It was time to return home.

* * *

It was dark when he finally arrived.

He had spent the day saving his energy for such a massive teleportation, and in any case, he had wanted to arrive when Kunzite was home. Night was the time when Kunzite finally relaxed, when he finally put aside his work and looked to his own pleasure. Zoisite fully intended to arrive during this time-- he didn't want to speak to any others, didn't want to explain his sudden return to suprised youma. He wanted, above all, to see his Kunzite-sama.

Alone, if at all possible.

He arrived silently, but he knew that the First King was immediately aware of his presence. That the wards allowed him through at all pleased him immeasurably. He silently crept up behind the seated First King and softly laid a hand on the older man's shoulder.

"Kunzite-sama," he said quietly. "I'm back."

The shoulders tensed immediately, but after a seeming eternity, finally relaxed. Zoisite said nothing, did nothing during this time, but only waited for the other man to react. He was rather sure that he would be welcomed, but this was Kunzite. As Zoisite saw it, the First King rarely acted as he should towards him.

His concern was unwarranted. Kunzite merely turned around, and stared at him for a few seconds, his eyes unreadable. Then, slowly... almost entreatingly, he reached out to Zoisite and drew him into his lap. "I'm glad," the older man whispered.

Zoisite laughed at little, staring up into silver eyes. "Actually," he said lightly, "so am I. Do you think I can stay?"

And Kunzite kissed him.

It was better than he had remembered. In fact, it probably was better than he had actually ever experienced, for this time, he knew that the bond between them truly existed and didn't merely play about in his own mind. There was something brilliant there, something... special... and it made the kiss infinitely sweeter.

When he broke the kiss, he spoke once more. "I know what you did for me, Kunzite-sama," he said quietly. He tried moving his features into a smile; it was an unusual sensation, smiling uncertainly with total lack of malice, with total lack of intent. It was odd to smile out of pure and unsullied happiness.

It was even stranger to see Kunzite return the expression. "How do you know," the First King replied, his tone both serious and oddly teasing, "that I did it for you?"

Zoisite couldn't help it. He kissed the older man firmly, wrapping his arms tight about the strong body. "I just know," he finally said.

"Hmm," Kunzite replied, and then they were moving, both of their bodies leaping with fire as they approached the bed. "That's good. That's very good."

And Zoisite was on the bed, and Kunzite's hands were everywhere, and it was gorgeous. Nimble fingers lightly stripped away extraneous clothing, dipping between the fabric and stroking the delightfully exposed skin. Each touch was a promise, each look finally realized for the expression it was; it was both consuming fire and a forest at rest. His body groaned with pleasure even as his mind stilled with calm happiness, and he knew that he was finally accepted, finally treasured... finally loved.

As Kunzite entered him, they stared into each other's eyes. They would never say the words, never speak the gasps radiating in both their minds, never succumb aloud to anything more than bodily pleasure. But within both of them, they knew the truth. As Kunzite rode him gently, pushing irresistibly into his body, Zoisite knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

And this time, after so much suffering and pain and distrust, he was everlastingly grateful for it.