This is both exquisitely beautiful and painful. I read this one last of the stories you posted here, and I think it may be my favorite. The way you have portrayed Fai reveals a lot of thought and sensitivity on your part - and the relationship between Kurogane and him seems rather plausible (if not entirely on desirable terms - one hopes they learn to trust each other.)
I particularly like these parts:
"Fai is slippery, elusive enough to find ways to leave himself uncategorized, to continue being, breathing without living. So Kurogane holds on.
Thigh over thigh, they fit together surprisingly well, molded clay on the potter’s wheel, Fai is pliable and formed in Kurogane’s hands. Neither asks if perhaps this was a placeholder for someone else, if those arms weren’t tracing patterns and love letters scratched into skin for someone else."
no subject
I particularly like these parts:
"Fai is slippery, elusive enough to find ways to leave himself uncategorized, to continue being, breathing without living. So Kurogane holds on.
Thigh over thigh, they fit together surprisingly well, molded clay on the potter’s wheel, Fai is pliable and formed in Kurogane’s hands. Neither asks if perhaps this was a placeholder for someone else, if those arms weren’t tracing patterns and love letters scratched into skin for someone else."