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sakon76The writing muse challenged the sewing muse to a no-holds barred fight and currently has her gagged, tied up, and is considering whether or not to introduce her to a bondage fetish. Further adventures of the muses to be described later, as the sewing muse is busily cutting herself free with scissors....
(14.5) Yokubou - Desire
He'd never let himself want. Even the months they'd lived together, sharing the same space, the same apartment, the same bedroom... they'd been chaste. Ichijou had told himself that it was respect, that he hadn't wanted to rush things, that the time wasn't right yet, even told himself that he was scared to go that one step further and change things again. He'd been happy waiting, happier than he'd been in a long time, if ever. It had been enough to have Godai there with him, to know his feelings were reciprocated by the one person most important to him.
He didn't want to wait any longer. He wanted to know what Godai's skin felt like against his, wanted to know what pleased the other man, wanted to see Godai shuddering in pleasure and know he'd caused it.
Finding, months ago during a cleaning spree, a few things Godai had secreted in the back of the futon cupboard had made him realize that maybe he hadn't needed to repress the way he had been... that maybe Godai had been waiting for him to be ready.
He was conscious of the small, unopened tube of lubricant in one pocket as he waited. He didn't even realize he'd been holding his breath until Godai leaned into the touch of his hand, lips just barely brushing Ichijou's thumb. "Ichijou-san," Godai said again, and there was something breathless in his voice, something electric and smoldering and considering at the same time in his eyes that let Ichijou know that, no, he hadn't been wrong. Godai wanted this--wanted him--and if Ichijou wanted him too, the time was now.
He let himself want.
*
Yuusuke could feel the shift in Ichijou, even before Ichijou leaned forward, closing that small space between them, and touched their mouths together. Ichijou was hesitant at first, sweet and gentle, the kiss delicate, until Yuusuke closed his eyes and let himself touch, exploring. The clean taste of Ichijou, the feel of his mouth, the way their breath flowed into one another as their tongues danced like two fencers.... One hand was on Ichijou's shoulder, the other curled around his chest, drawing them closer together. One of Ichijou's hands still cupped the side of Yuusuke's face, the thumb brushing softly back and forth across Yuusuke's cheek, while Ichijou's other hand pressed against the small of his back. Yuusuke felt hot and dizzy and more than a little reckless.
He'd never had this experience before, never been touched by anyone like this. There had never been anyone he'd particularly wanted to touch like this. He'd been a free spirit, wandering. He didn't even particularly know, at the moment, how Ichijou had come to be one of his anchors. Kissing the police detective was dizzying as the world and its possibilities swirled around Yuusuke, and for just a moment he thought he glimpsed a blue sky within Ichijou--
--Who broke away, his breath stuttering in gasps and flutters. Yuusuke could feel his heartbeat through Ichijou's shirt and skin. It felt even more rapid than his own. "Godai," Ichijou breathed, mere centimeters away and even that was too far somehow.
"Ichijou-san." And with the last part of his mind that was still capable of practical things, Yuusuke shoved away want for ten seconds and reached out and turned the stove off. Ichijou's eyes followed his movement, faint laughter visible in their depths, tugging the corners of his mouth up. Yuusuke picked up the bowl of batter and handed it to his boyfriend. "In the fridge," he said. "Now. Please." And that did make Ichijou smile all the way as he obeyed, turning away for just a moment.
Watching the lines of Ichijou's body as he bent over to place the bowl in the refrigerator, Yuusuke wanted to touch. To taste. To run his hands over that body and learn what Ichijou felt like.... They knew each other's bodies; as roommates there was no way they'd have ever been able to avoid that, and he didn't think either of them had particularly tried. But there was a difference between the way he'd looked admiringly at Ichijou's body before, appreciative and a bit reserved, and the way Yuusuke looked at it now. He could... touch. It was allowed. Ichijou straightened, closing the refrigerator door, and looked at Yuusuke. "Ichijou-san," he said quietly, feeling a coil of want in his stomach, "I want to make you feel good. I don't want you ever to regret this."
Ichijou's hair, finer than Yuusuke's, had shifted minutely into his eyes. It was longer now than it had been three months before. It needed a cut. Yuusuke wanted to run his fingers through it, to use it as a hold and never, ever let Ichijou get away from him--
He accepted those desires as he accepted all the others. They were part of him, and acknowledging the darkness, the possessiveness, lessened its grasp on him.
"I love you," Yuusuke said quietly, those rare words that seldom passed between the two of them because they were dangerous in casual conversation, and seldom needed in any case. The rarity of their use didn't make them any less true.
*
Godai wasn't normal. He hadn't ever been, as long as Ichijou had known him and likely before too. More than just being Kuuga, being an Agito, he was one of those people who walked sideways through the world, different from everyone else. He was beautiful, exotic, strange. And so human, so right that it made Ichijou hurt sometimes, remembering the hours when he'd believed Godai was dead... when he'd believed that light had gone out of the world.
This wouldn't be a weakness. It couldn't be a weakness, not when his partner was stronger than he was in so many ways, could never be used against him. Never a hostage.... He stepped forward and kissed Godai again. Godai leaned into the kiss as Ichijou's fingers threaded through his hair. It was thick and soft, slightly curly and as pure a black as Ichijou had ever seen. He wondered if Godai knew that Ichijou thought it looked best long on him. Almost criminally good... he'd spent months trying not to notice when Godai had first started growing it out, and the entire duration of their romantic relationship burying the urge to touch. He didn't restrain himself now, slowly finger-combing through the curls as their mouths devoured one another.
"I love you," he breathed as they broke apart. Godai looked good in the green sweater, it was why he'd left it in the hospital locker, but Ichijou wanted him out of it. "Godai...."
Godai grinned, and it seemed like he was already three steps ahead, because he simply asked "Where?"
*
Ichijou was indecisive and hesitated too long, so Yuusuke made the decision for them, gently leading the detective by his belt loops to the living room sofa. The bedroom would have been good, too, but that would involve taking out their futons and he didn't want to risk breaking the mood. Not that he particularly thought it would have, but there was no sense in taking the chance. Yuusuke guided Ichijou to sit on the sofa then straddled his legs, positioning himself on the other man's lap and resuming the kissing the location change had interrupted. He was the slightest bit taller than Ichijou like this, and Ichijou's arms wove around Yuusuke's waist, keeping him close.
It really didn't matter which of them was the "top." At least, it didn't to Yuusuke. Ichijou might have hang-ups about it, of course, and if he did they'd have to explore that, but it wouldn't change who either of them were regardless of who gave and who received. It wouldn't make either of them women, and there were at least four women in Yuusuke's life who would kick his ass if he ever suggested the notion to them that women were in any way weaker or inferior to men, so even if it did he didn't think it would matter either way.
Ichijou's hands found their way under Yuusuke's sweater and inched it up. Godai suppressed a shiver at the cool air he could feel through the t-shirt he wore underneath, and gracefully surrendered to having the sweater stripped from him. Ichijou pressed his advantage to remove the t-shirt as well, and Yuusuke laughed briefly, rocking against him. He was hard, and so was Ichijou, and the heat between them and the warmth of Ichijou's hands were a sharp contrast to the living room air.... He bit back a gasp as Ichijou's hands, exploratory, brushed thumbs against his nipples. "Ichijou-san!"
Ichijou smiled a little and his eyes were wicked, having found something he could exploit. "Yes?" he asked too-innocently, starting to repeat the touch, stroking again and again. Yuusuke shivered, and began attacking Ichijou's shirt buttons in retaliation, plucking them open one by one as fast as he could.
"You are an evil man, Ichijou-san," Yuusuke muttered as he tugged the hem of Ichijou's shirt out of the waistband of his pants and undid the last button. Ichijou breathed a laugh of agreement into Yuusuke's bare shoulder, then acquiesced to having his own shirt and undershirt removed as well.
Ichijou's skin was golden and warm. Appreciative, Yuusuke ran his hands across it. "What was this?" he asked quietly, drawing a finger down a long, thin scar on Ichijou's shoulder.
"Knife wound," Ichijou replied. "Four years ago."
"And this?"
"Bullet. I was lucky and only got hit once."
Ichijou didn't have armor. Sobered, Yuusuke contemplated this fact, and his lover's mortality.
"Godai." Ichijou's eyes caught his. "This is my life. You know this."
Yuusuke nodded. "Yeah. I do." And he bent forward and kissed Ichijou again, trying to convey with tongue, with mouth and body and hands, all the sweetness and care he felt.
Ichijou could die tomorrow. So could Yuusuke. This was no different for them than it was for anyone else, and he wouldn't let it ruin what they had together.
*
He ended up lying on the sofa, Godai on top of him, rocking gently against what were all the right places, exploring one another with hands and mouths like two teenagers just learning what lust was. Ichijou knew he could come like this, the taste and smell and feel and weight of Godai pushing him to that point. He had the feeling it was the same for Godai.
He wanted something better for the both of them.
"Godai," he gasped as Godai's tongue flickered against his left nipple. His weren't as sensitive as Godai's seemed to be, but it still felt good.
Godai grinned up at him, eyes alight.
Ichijou's thumbs were tucked into the waist of Godai's jeans. He tugged downward. "Take them off," he suggested.
Godai's grin widened, and in response he only moved further down the sofa, his waistband shifting out of reach as he decorated Ichijou's chest with the patterns his tongue drew. Slowly, he unfastened Ichijou's slacks, sliding the zipper down, and placed a gentle hand on the hardness beneath Ichijou's boxers. "Ichijou-san," he said with a smile, and began to knead.
Ichijou took a sharp breath as his head flew back. Godai was as good at this as he was at everything else--
"Godai," he grated out, far too near the edge, and mercifully Godai stopped moving even if he didn't remove his hand, a warm weight. It took the space of several heartbeats, during which Ichijou did not thrust his hips up, before he regained enough control to raise his head again, breathing hard, and look at his lover.
Godai's dark eyes met his, amused and serious and unrepentant all at the same time. "Jeans," Ichijou said. "Off. Now."
Godai smiled. "Yes, Ichijou-san," he replied, leaning back, shifting his weight on Ichijou's thighs, pressing them down into the sofa as he unfastened the top button of his jeans with one thumb, then slowly purred down the zipper. The hand on Ichijou's cock squeezed gently even as Godai reached into his own fly and stroked himself through his briefs.
Ichijou's head fell back again, hips trying to rise of their own volition. He breathed a whimper of want even as it occurred to him that he really should have realized before now that Godai was likely to be a tease.
*
Yuusuke drank in the sight of Ichijou lying beneath him, half-naked, his cock hard and wanting in Yuusuke's hand, trying desperately not to come. Knowing that he'd been the one to cause this, to make the normally cool and collected detective lose it like this, that it was him Ichijou was reacting to....
Power was an ugly, ugly thing, and he let the reaction slide away, stretching forward again, supporting his weight on his arms as he touched his lips to Ichijou's again, as sweet and soft and earnest as he could make the kiss. "Ichijou-san," he murmured when it ended, "I'm yours."
The detective touched gentle fingers to Yuusuke's face. "Sometimes," he said, "I really don't understand you."
Yuusuke grinned. "Well, that's all right, isn't it?" he asked. People weren't supposed to understand one another perfectly. It would make life a lot more boring.
Ichijou smiled. "This is anything but the mistake of a lifetime," he replied, making a connection Yuusuke hadn't even meant.
It was the right thing to say anyway. "What do you want, Ichijou-san?" he asked. "Anything you want, I'll give you...."
Ichijou shook his head, looking amazed. "I have no idea," he confessed.
"Then... can I taste you, Ichijou-san?"
It seemed that Ichijou liked the idea, the way his eyes widened momentarily and his breath caught and stuttered on it. "Yes," he agreed feverently. "If... you want to," he amended.
"I do," Yuusuke assured him. And kissed Ichijou again, finally letting his fingers thread through that fine, soft hair. And when they broke apart he kissed his way down Ichijou's body, starting with his chin, his Adam's apple, his shoulder....
Yuusuke was grateful his jeans fly was open. Otherwise he would have been really uncomfortable, given how he was reacting to Ichijou's body and being allowed to touch it like this.
*
Ichijou lifted his hips at Godai's unspoken urging, letting his lover's hands slide his slacks down his legs, stripping them away, and with them, somehow, his socks. But not his boxers. Godai's eyes gleamed as he palmed Ichijou through the silk again, and he grinned briefly, before lowering his head to mouth Ichijou through the paisley-print fabric. And that shouldn't have been as erotic as it was, but Ichijou could do nothing but watch breathlessly as Godai worked his way up and down that length, dampening the silk and applying gentle pressure against Ichijou....
It felt good. It felt so good, and it only felt better as Godai slipped fingers through the boxers' front opening, curling heated fingers around and behind Ichijou's length. He suckled at the tip, fierce pressure muted by the fabric, and Ichijou made a strangled noise, watching that head of black curly hair bob in his lap. He couldn't close his eyes, couldn't look away, could only tangle his fingers in Godai's hair and pet helplessly.
Need tightened Ichijou's stomach as Godai continued softly stroking with one hand, sucking through the thin fabric, his other hand running lightly up and down Ichijou's side until he used it to prop himself up slightly. He looked up at Ichijou with a familiar grin. "More, Ichijou-san?" Godai asked.
Ichijou's mouth felt dry. He had to swallow to be able to form words again. "Please," he said breathlessly. You can do anything you want to me....
Godai's grin continued unabated as he hooked fingers into the waistband of Ichijou's boxers and slowly, deliberately, drew them down. And then he was carefully weighing Ichijou's sac in his hand, gently stroking with his thumb, as he lowered his head again, eyes never leaving Ichijou's.
The world dissolved into heat, and liquid pleasure.
Godai was good at this, so good, and if he hadn't been the innately painfully honest person he was Ichijou would have had to question Godai's claims of inexperience. Because everything he did was so right, reducing Ichijou to little more than gasps and whimpers and invocations of Godai's name. The texture of heavy silk hair between his fingers, the steady pressure of hands pressing him steady into the sofa, ripples and shudders of pleasure crested up and down his body. And then Godai started to hum.
It wasn't fair; there was no way out; he had to give in to the sensation. "Godai...!" Ichijou gasped, and came hard.
Godai's mouth stayed on him, no longer humming, no longer applying any kind of pressure, though all the slowly decreasing pulses of pleasure, until all was still again, until all made sense. Then he released Ichijou and swallowing--swallowing!-- made his way up the sofa again until he and Ichijou were stretched out together along its length, Godai on his side against the sofa's back, Ichijou half on his side on the cushions, skin against skin generating warmth. "Godai," Ichijou breathed again, wondering. Somehow it seemed slightly unreal.
Godai's eyes crinkled with smile lines. "Was it all right?" he asked.
"Yes...!" was all Ichijou could find to say.
Godai's smile widened. "I'm glad," he said, and tucked his head into the hollow of Ichijou's shoulder, body shifting minutely so that he was pressed against Ichijou all the way down to their feet, skin to skin, denim to skin. One hand brushed softly back and forth down Ichijou's chest, fingertips drawing meaningless designs.
Ichijou took a contented breath and reached a fishing hand over the side of the sofa, searching for his discarded slacks. He found them and groped his way into one pocket, then into the other, finding what he was seeking, a tube that was cool to the touch. "Godai," he said.
"Hmm?" Godai asked into his shoulder. Ichijou could feel that Godai was still hard against his hip.
"Now will you take off your jeans?"
*
With a huff of laughter against Ichijou's shoulder, Yuusuke complied, reaching down and shuffling off his jeans and briefs, stripping off his socks at the same time and managing to push it all off the far end of the sofa, where it fell to the floor, without kneeing Ichijou in the process or shoving him off the sofa cushions. He was glad the yoga he'd learned was good for something. He stretched back out against Ichijou, luxuriating in the feeling and warmth of skin against skin until his attention was caught by the snap of a tube's seal being broken.
He stared at the familiar-looking tube held in Ichijou's hand. "Ichijou-san...."
Ichijou smiled at him. "You know," he said conversationally, "I found some of the most interesting things in the back of the futon cupboard...."
"Ichijou-san," Yuusuke groaned. His lover didn't tease well.
"May I?" Ichijou asked.
Yuusuke looked into his serious eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Please."
With one hand, Ichijou squeezed out the liquid lubricant onto the other, rolling it between his fingers, warming it in his palm for a moment before setting the tube down on the floor and reaching across to grasp Yuusuke's length. Yuusuke breathed in carefully. Even warmed, the lubricant was still slightly cool, and Ichijou's firm grasp on him revived the curl of flame in the pit of Yuusuke's stomach. He wanted this. This touch. This person.
"Ichijou-san," he said lowly, and pressed his mouth to the other man's as Ichijou's hand began to move on him. A band of silver gleamed on his wrist, and somehow the fact that all Ichijou was wearing was the bracelet Yuusuke had given him only stoked the desire. Ichijou's tongue was hesitant in his mouth and it took a moment for Yuusuke to realize why. He pulled away. "I'm sorry," he apologized, moving against the motion of Ichijou's hand.
Ichijou grinned at him, though. "You think I don't like it that you taste like me?" he asked. He moved slightly, twisting, so that he was on his side and a little above Godai. "Godai." He kissed Yuusuke again, deeply, and as he did so his free hand found and tweaked a nipple, which was not fair at all. Yuusuke's hips rolled helplessly under Ichijou's touch as he wound his arms around his lover, pulling him closer, kissing desperately
"Ichijou-san!" he gasped when they parted for air. Ichijou was smiling down at him, a covetous look.
"Do you like it?" Ichijou asked. "This way you made me feel?" His pace quickened a little, grasp tightening the slightest bit. "Godai Yuusuke...."
"Ichijou-san!" Yuusuke closed his eyes and ground his teeth together. It was like Ichijou was pressing every button he had.
Ichijou's fingers pressed the Kuuga pendant lightly into his skin. "You look so good like this," Ichijou murmured in Yuusuke's ear. "You feel so good." Yuusuke gasped for air, his fingers tightening on Ichijou's back. "You made me feel so good. I want to make you feel the same way." The detective's touch had him almost there, so close that he was trembling on the edge. "I want you to come for me... Yuusuke." Ichijou's hand did something arcane, a twist and tighten all at once, and Yuusuke had no choice but to obey, color and sound and sensation all rushing up at once as he drowned in release.
It seemed like a long moment before he could hear his own heartbeat, and somewhere beyond that a low voice speaking, words washing over Yuusuke with as much meaning as water had to pebbles in a stream. And white fire burnt away at him, pulsing and ebbing, in the seconds before he took control again, seizing meaning once more. Kuuga's mark seared golden as Yuusuke's collarbones where the pendant lay, and white-black on his forehead, where Daguba and Baruba had once worn their own marks, until Yuusuke stopped it, sealed the marks away. The flames died down; the sounds quieted; he let the tension abandon him, and Ichijou's voice carry him back.
*
"Godai! Godai!" Ichijou said, gently shaking his lover, trying not to panic. One hand smeared lubricant and come on Godai's shoulder; the other was clean. Godai's eyes were sightless and for an instant his Kuuga mark had glowed white on his forehead, but then it had vanished. "Godai!"
Godai blinked once, a beat of lashes like butterfly's wings, and then there was sense back in his eyes. He breathed out once, then quizzically asked "Ichijou-san?"
Ichijou stared at him, them laughed softly and lowered himself to the sofa partially on top of Godai. "Only you," he said. "You're... all right?"
"Mm," Godai confirmed with a nod. He nuzzled lips against Ichijou's neck, then spoke quietly. "I... think the Agito part of me wanted to say something."
"Something?" Ichijou asked, wide-eyed.
Godai nodded again. "I think it likes you too," he responded, bright-eyed. Ichijou wasn't sure if Godai was teasing him or not. "Ichijou-san, what happened?"
"You... went away," Ichijou answered, not sure how to describe it. "Your Kuuga mark burned white, here." He touched the spot on Godai's forehead where it had. Godai's eyes nearly crossed, following his finger. Ichijou removed it. "Is this going to happen every time?"
"Mmm... I don't think so," Godai answered. "It doesn't feel like it will, anyway," he said.
Ichijou smiled a little. Every time something new had happened to Godai as Kuuga, they'd had to trust his intuition about it, and it had always been correct. "Well, if you say so," he said, and nestled closer, enjoying the contact, the warmth of Godai's body.
"Mm," Godai murmured, and traced gentle fingers down Ichijou's back for a few minutes.
Eventually, though, Godai's stomach growled, ruining the mood. Godai looked abashed, while Ichijou laughed. "You'd think you hadn't had enough to eat this morning," Ichijou teased his lover.
Godai grinned. "I haven't eaten for three months!" he defended himself. "My appetite's big enough for you and hot cakes!"
"Me and hot cakes and a shower," Ichijou bargained up shrewdly. The few minutes of cuddling had been nice, but he wasn't about to ignore the various fluids by now smeared across both of their bodies.
Godai nodded. "You and a shower and hot cakes," he agreed. "And, Ichijou-san... you called me Yuusuke."
"So?" Ichijou asked, sitting up, then standing. He gathered his clothing from the floor. Most of it was still wearable following the planned shower. He'd want a new pair of boxers, though. He smiled at Godai. "You can call me Kaoru if you want."
"But you don't feel very much like a Kaoru, though, Ichijou-san," Godai replied, following him to the bathroom, carrying and examining his own bundle of clothing.
"That would probably be why no one but Mother calls me that," Ichijou replied. "She read The Tale of Genji while expecting me."
"Really? That explains it, I guess," Godai replied. "I think our parents just made up my name and Minori's.... But Ichijou-san," he said, placing his clothes with Ichijou's in the counter basket, "it's okay for you to call me Yuusuke whenever you want."
A part of him had already known that, Ichijou thought, stopping to look at Godai. But, still, to be given permission to use that name whenever he wanted.... "Thank you, Godai," he said quietly. "Yuusuke...."
Godai smiled beatifically and, catching his fingers in Ichijou's hair, drew him closer for another kiss. "Merry Christmas, Ichijou-san," he said quietly.
(14.5) Yokubou - Desire
He'd never let himself want. Even the months they'd lived together, sharing the same space, the same apartment, the same bedroom... they'd been chaste. Ichijou had told himself that it was respect, that he hadn't wanted to rush things, that the time wasn't right yet, even told himself that he was scared to go that one step further and change things again. He'd been happy waiting, happier than he'd been in a long time, if ever. It had been enough to have Godai there with him, to know his feelings were reciprocated by the one person most important to him.
He didn't want to wait any longer. He wanted to know what Godai's skin felt like against his, wanted to know what pleased the other man, wanted to see Godai shuddering in pleasure and know he'd caused it.
Finding, months ago during a cleaning spree, a few things Godai had secreted in the back of the futon cupboard had made him realize that maybe he hadn't needed to repress the way he had been... that maybe Godai had been waiting for him to be ready.
He was conscious of the small, unopened tube of lubricant in one pocket as he waited. He didn't even realize he'd been holding his breath until Godai leaned into the touch of his hand, lips just barely brushing Ichijou's thumb. "Ichijou-san," Godai said again, and there was something breathless in his voice, something electric and smoldering and considering at the same time in his eyes that let Ichijou know that, no, he hadn't been wrong. Godai wanted this--wanted him--and if Ichijou wanted him too, the time was now.
He let himself want.
Yuusuke could feel the shift in Ichijou, even before Ichijou leaned forward, closing that small space between them, and touched their mouths together. Ichijou was hesitant at first, sweet and gentle, the kiss delicate, until Yuusuke closed his eyes and let himself touch, exploring. The clean taste of Ichijou, the feel of his mouth, the way their breath flowed into one another as their tongues danced like two fencers.... One hand was on Ichijou's shoulder, the other curled around his chest, drawing them closer together. One of Ichijou's hands still cupped the side of Yuusuke's face, the thumb brushing softly back and forth across Yuusuke's cheek, while Ichijou's other hand pressed against the small of his back. Yuusuke felt hot and dizzy and more than a little reckless.
He'd never had this experience before, never been touched by anyone like this. There had never been anyone he'd particularly wanted to touch like this. He'd been a free spirit, wandering. He didn't even particularly know, at the moment, how Ichijou had come to be one of his anchors. Kissing the police detective was dizzying as the world and its possibilities swirled around Yuusuke, and for just a moment he thought he glimpsed a blue sky within Ichijou--
--Who broke away, his breath stuttering in gasps and flutters. Yuusuke could feel his heartbeat through Ichijou's shirt and skin. It felt even more rapid than his own. "Godai," Ichijou breathed, mere centimeters away and even that was too far somehow.
"Ichijou-san." And with the last part of his mind that was still capable of practical things, Yuusuke shoved away want for ten seconds and reached out and turned the stove off. Ichijou's eyes followed his movement, faint laughter visible in their depths, tugging the corners of his mouth up. Yuusuke picked up the bowl of batter and handed it to his boyfriend. "In the fridge," he said. "Now. Please." And that did make Ichijou smile all the way as he obeyed, turning away for just a moment.
Watching the lines of Ichijou's body as he bent over to place the bowl in the refrigerator, Yuusuke wanted to touch. To taste. To run his hands over that body and learn what Ichijou felt like.... They knew each other's bodies; as roommates there was no way they'd have ever been able to avoid that, and he didn't think either of them had particularly tried. But there was a difference between the way he'd looked admiringly at Ichijou's body before, appreciative and a bit reserved, and the way Yuusuke looked at it now. He could... touch. It was allowed. Ichijou straightened, closing the refrigerator door, and looked at Yuusuke. "Ichijou-san," he said quietly, feeling a coil of want in his stomach, "I want to make you feel good. I don't want you ever to regret this."
Ichijou's hair, finer than Yuusuke's, had shifted minutely into his eyes. It was longer now than it had been three months before. It needed a cut. Yuusuke wanted to run his fingers through it, to use it as a hold and never, ever let Ichijou get away from him--
He accepted those desires as he accepted all the others. They were part of him, and acknowledging the darkness, the possessiveness, lessened its grasp on him.
"I love you," Yuusuke said quietly, those rare words that seldom passed between the two of them because they were dangerous in casual conversation, and seldom needed in any case. The rarity of their use didn't make them any less true.
Godai wasn't normal. He hadn't ever been, as long as Ichijou had known him and likely before too. More than just being Kuuga, being an Agito, he was one of those people who walked sideways through the world, different from everyone else. He was beautiful, exotic, strange. And so human, so right that it made Ichijou hurt sometimes, remembering the hours when he'd believed Godai was dead... when he'd believed that light had gone out of the world.
This wouldn't be a weakness. It couldn't be a weakness, not when his partner was stronger than he was in so many ways, could never be used against him. Never a hostage.... He stepped forward and kissed Godai again. Godai leaned into the kiss as Ichijou's fingers threaded through his hair. It was thick and soft, slightly curly and as pure a black as Ichijou had ever seen. He wondered if Godai knew that Ichijou thought it looked best long on him. Almost criminally good... he'd spent months trying not to notice when Godai had first started growing it out, and the entire duration of their romantic relationship burying the urge to touch. He didn't restrain himself now, slowly finger-combing through the curls as their mouths devoured one another.
"I love you," he breathed as they broke apart. Godai looked good in the green sweater, it was why he'd left it in the hospital locker, but Ichijou wanted him out of it. "Godai...."
Godai grinned, and it seemed like he was already three steps ahead, because he simply asked "Where?"
Ichijou was indecisive and hesitated too long, so Yuusuke made the decision for them, gently leading the detective by his belt loops to the living room sofa. The bedroom would have been good, too, but that would involve taking out their futons and he didn't want to risk breaking the mood. Not that he particularly thought it would have, but there was no sense in taking the chance. Yuusuke guided Ichijou to sit on the sofa then straddled his legs, positioning himself on the other man's lap and resuming the kissing the location change had interrupted. He was the slightest bit taller than Ichijou like this, and Ichijou's arms wove around Yuusuke's waist, keeping him close.
It really didn't matter which of them was the "top." At least, it didn't to Yuusuke. Ichijou might have hang-ups about it, of course, and if he did they'd have to explore that, but it wouldn't change who either of them were regardless of who gave and who received. It wouldn't make either of them women, and there were at least four women in Yuusuke's life who would kick his ass if he ever suggested the notion to them that women were in any way weaker or inferior to men, so even if it did he didn't think it would matter either way.
Ichijou's hands found their way under Yuusuke's sweater and inched it up. Godai suppressed a shiver at the cool air he could feel through the t-shirt he wore underneath, and gracefully surrendered to having the sweater stripped from him. Ichijou pressed his advantage to remove the t-shirt as well, and Yuusuke laughed briefly, rocking against him. He was hard, and so was Ichijou, and the heat between them and the warmth of Ichijou's hands were a sharp contrast to the living room air.... He bit back a gasp as Ichijou's hands, exploratory, brushed thumbs against his nipples. "Ichijou-san!"
Ichijou smiled a little and his eyes were wicked, having found something he could exploit. "Yes?" he asked too-innocently, starting to repeat the touch, stroking again and again. Yuusuke shivered, and began attacking Ichijou's shirt buttons in retaliation, plucking them open one by one as fast as he could.
"You are an evil man, Ichijou-san," Yuusuke muttered as he tugged the hem of Ichijou's shirt out of the waistband of his pants and undid the last button. Ichijou breathed a laugh of agreement into Yuusuke's bare shoulder, then acquiesced to having his own shirt and undershirt removed as well.
Ichijou's skin was golden and warm. Appreciative, Yuusuke ran his hands across it. "What was this?" he asked quietly, drawing a finger down a long, thin scar on Ichijou's shoulder.
"Knife wound," Ichijou replied. "Four years ago."
"And this?"
"Bullet. I was lucky and only got hit once."
Ichijou didn't have armor. Sobered, Yuusuke contemplated this fact, and his lover's mortality.
"Godai." Ichijou's eyes caught his. "This is my life. You know this."
Yuusuke nodded. "Yeah. I do." And he bent forward and kissed Ichijou again, trying to convey with tongue, with mouth and body and hands, all the sweetness and care he felt.
Ichijou could die tomorrow. So could Yuusuke. This was no different for them than it was for anyone else, and he wouldn't let it ruin what they had together.
He ended up lying on the sofa, Godai on top of him, rocking gently against what were all the right places, exploring one another with hands and mouths like two teenagers just learning what lust was. Ichijou knew he could come like this, the taste and smell and feel and weight of Godai pushing him to that point. He had the feeling it was the same for Godai.
He wanted something better for the both of them.
"Godai," he gasped as Godai's tongue flickered against his left nipple. His weren't as sensitive as Godai's seemed to be, but it still felt good.
Godai grinned up at him, eyes alight.
Ichijou's thumbs were tucked into the waist of Godai's jeans. He tugged downward. "Take them off," he suggested.
Godai's grin widened, and in response he only moved further down the sofa, his waistband shifting out of reach as he decorated Ichijou's chest with the patterns his tongue drew. Slowly, he unfastened Ichijou's slacks, sliding the zipper down, and placed a gentle hand on the hardness beneath Ichijou's boxers. "Ichijou-san," he said with a smile, and began to knead.
Ichijou took a sharp breath as his head flew back. Godai was as good at this as he was at everything else--
"Godai," he grated out, far too near the edge, and mercifully Godai stopped moving even if he didn't remove his hand, a warm weight. It took the space of several heartbeats, during which Ichijou did not thrust his hips up, before he regained enough control to raise his head again, breathing hard, and look at his lover.
Godai's dark eyes met his, amused and serious and unrepentant all at the same time. "Jeans," Ichijou said. "Off. Now."
Godai smiled. "Yes, Ichijou-san," he replied, leaning back, shifting his weight on Ichijou's thighs, pressing them down into the sofa as he unfastened the top button of his jeans with one thumb, then slowly purred down the zipper. The hand on Ichijou's cock squeezed gently even as Godai reached into his own fly and stroked himself through his briefs.
Ichijou's head fell back again, hips trying to rise of their own volition. He breathed a whimper of want even as it occurred to him that he really should have realized before now that Godai was likely to be a tease.
Yuusuke drank in the sight of Ichijou lying beneath him, half-naked, his cock hard and wanting in Yuusuke's hand, trying desperately not to come. Knowing that he'd been the one to cause this, to make the normally cool and collected detective lose it like this, that it was him Ichijou was reacting to....
Power was an ugly, ugly thing, and he let the reaction slide away, stretching forward again, supporting his weight on his arms as he touched his lips to Ichijou's again, as sweet and soft and earnest as he could make the kiss. "Ichijou-san," he murmured when it ended, "I'm yours."
The detective touched gentle fingers to Yuusuke's face. "Sometimes," he said, "I really don't understand you."
Yuusuke grinned. "Well, that's all right, isn't it?" he asked. People weren't supposed to understand one another perfectly. It would make life a lot more boring.
Ichijou smiled. "This is anything but the mistake of a lifetime," he replied, making a connection Yuusuke hadn't even meant.
It was the right thing to say anyway. "What do you want, Ichijou-san?" he asked. "Anything you want, I'll give you...."
Ichijou shook his head, looking amazed. "I have no idea," he confessed.
"Then... can I taste you, Ichijou-san?"
It seemed that Ichijou liked the idea, the way his eyes widened momentarily and his breath caught and stuttered on it. "Yes," he agreed feverently. "If... you want to," he amended.
"I do," Yuusuke assured him. And kissed Ichijou again, finally letting his fingers thread through that fine, soft hair. And when they broke apart he kissed his way down Ichijou's body, starting with his chin, his Adam's apple, his shoulder....
Yuusuke was grateful his jeans fly was open. Otherwise he would have been really uncomfortable, given how he was reacting to Ichijou's body and being allowed to touch it like this.
Ichijou lifted his hips at Godai's unspoken urging, letting his lover's hands slide his slacks down his legs, stripping them away, and with them, somehow, his socks. But not his boxers. Godai's eyes gleamed as he palmed Ichijou through the silk again, and he grinned briefly, before lowering his head to mouth Ichijou through the paisley-print fabric. And that shouldn't have been as erotic as it was, but Ichijou could do nothing but watch breathlessly as Godai worked his way up and down that length, dampening the silk and applying gentle pressure against Ichijou....
It felt good. It felt so good, and it only felt better as Godai slipped fingers through the boxers' front opening, curling heated fingers around and behind Ichijou's length. He suckled at the tip, fierce pressure muted by the fabric, and Ichijou made a strangled noise, watching that head of black curly hair bob in his lap. He couldn't close his eyes, couldn't look away, could only tangle his fingers in Godai's hair and pet helplessly.
Need tightened Ichijou's stomach as Godai continued softly stroking with one hand, sucking through the thin fabric, his other hand running lightly up and down Ichijou's side until he used it to prop himself up slightly. He looked up at Ichijou with a familiar grin. "More, Ichijou-san?" Godai asked.
Ichijou's mouth felt dry. He had to swallow to be able to form words again. "Please," he said breathlessly. You can do anything you want to me....
Godai's grin continued unabated as he hooked fingers into the waistband of Ichijou's boxers and slowly, deliberately, drew them down. And then he was carefully weighing Ichijou's sac in his hand, gently stroking with his thumb, as he lowered his head again, eyes never leaving Ichijou's.
The world dissolved into heat, and liquid pleasure.
Godai was good at this, so good, and if he hadn't been the innately painfully honest person he was Ichijou would have had to question Godai's claims of inexperience. Because everything he did was so right, reducing Ichijou to little more than gasps and whimpers and invocations of Godai's name. The texture of heavy silk hair between his fingers, the steady pressure of hands pressing him steady into the sofa, ripples and shudders of pleasure crested up and down his body. And then Godai started to hum.
It wasn't fair; there was no way out; he had to give in to the sensation. "Godai...!" Ichijou gasped, and came hard.
Godai's mouth stayed on him, no longer humming, no longer applying any kind of pressure, though all the slowly decreasing pulses of pleasure, until all was still again, until all made sense. Then he released Ichijou and swallowing--swallowing!-- made his way up the sofa again until he and Ichijou were stretched out together along its length, Godai on his side against the sofa's back, Ichijou half on his side on the cushions, skin against skin generating warmth. "Godai," Ichijou breathed again, wondering. Somehow it seemed slightly unreal.
Godai's eyes crinkled with smile lines. "Was it all right?" he asked.
"Yes...!" was all Ichijou could find to say.
Godai's smile widened. "I'm glad," he said, and tucked his head into the hollow of Ichijou's shoulder, body shifting minutely so that he was pressed against Ichijou all the way down to their feet, skin to skin, denim to skin. One hand brushed softly back and forth down Ichijou's chest, fingertips drawing meaningless designs.
Ichijou took a contented breath and reached a fishing hand over the side of the sofa, searching for his discarded slacks. He found them and groped his way into one pocket, then into the other, finding what he was seeking, a tube that was cool to the touch. "Godai," he said.
"Hmm?" Godai asked into his shoulder. Ichijou could feel that Godai was still hard against his hip.
"Now will you take off your jeans?"
With a huff of laughter against Ichijou's shoulder, Yuusuke complied, reaching down and shuffling off his jeans and briefs, stripping off his socks at the same time and managing to push it all off the far end of the sofa, where it fell to the floor, without kneeing Ichijou in the process or shoving him off the sofa cushions. He was glad the yoga he'd learned was good for something. He stretched back out against Ichijou, luxuriating in the feeling and warmth of skin against skin until his attention was caught by the snap of a tube's seal being broken.
He stared at the familiar-looking tube held in Ichijou's hand. "Ichijou-san...."
Ichijou smiled at him. "You know," he said conversationally, "I found some of the most interesting things in the back of the futon cupboard...."
"Ichijou-san," Yuusuke groaned. His lover didn't tease well.
"May I?" Ichijou asked.
Yuusuke looked into his serious eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Please."
With one hand, Ichijou squeezed out the liquid lubricant onto the other, rolling it between his fingers, warming it in his palm for a moment before setting the tube down on the floor and reaching across to grasp Yuusuke's length. Yuusuke breathed in carefully. Even warmed, the lubricant was still slightly cool, and Ichijou's firm grasp on him revived the curl of flame in the pit of Yuusuke's stomach. He wanted this. This touch. This person.
"Ichijou-san," he said lowly, and pressed his mouth to the other man's as Ichijou's hand began to move on him. A band of silver gleamed on his wrist, and somehow the fact that all Ichijou was wearing was the bracelet Yuusuke had given him only stoked the desire. Ichijou's tongue was hesitant in his mouth and it took a moment for Yuusuke to realize why. He pulled away. "I'm sorry," he apologized, moving against the motion of Ichijou's hand.
Ichijou grinned at him, though. "You think I don't like it that you taste like me?" he asked. He moved slightly, twisting, so that he was on his side and a little above Godai. "Godai." He kissed Yuusuke again, deeply, and as he did so his free hand found and tweaked a nipple, which was not fair at all. Yuusuke's hips rolled helplessly under Ichijou's touch as he wound his arms around his lover, pulling him closer, kissing desperately
"Ichijou-san!" he gasped when they parted for air. Ichijou was smiling down at him, a covetous look.
"Do you like it?" Ichijou asked. "This way you made me feel?" His pace quickened a little, grasp tightening the slightest bit. "Godai Yuusuke...."
"Ichijou-san!" Yuusuke closed his eyes and ground his teeth together. It was like Ichijou was pressing every button he had.
Ichijou's fingers pressed the Kuuga pendant lightly into his skin. "You look so good like this," Ichijou murmured in Yuusuke's ear. "You feel so good." Yuusuke gasped for air, his fingers tightening on Ichijou's back. "You made me feel so good. I want to make you feel the same way." The detective's touch had him almost there, so close that he was trembling on the edge. "I want you to come for me... Yuusuke." Ichijou's hand did something arcane, a twist and tighten all at once, and Yuusuke had no choice but to obey, color and sound and sensation all rushing up at once as he drowned in release.
It seemed like a long moment before he could hear his own heartbeat, and somewhere beyond that a low voice speaking, words washing over Yuusuke with as much meaning as water had to pebbles in a stream. And white fire burnt away at him, pulsing and ebbing, in the seconds before he took control again, seizing meaning once more. Kuuga's mark seared golden as Yuusuke's collarbones where the pendant lay, and white-black on his forehead, where Daguba and Baruba had once worn their own marks, until Yuusuke stopped it, sealed the marks away. The flames died down; the sounds quieted; he let the tension abandon him, and Ichijou's voice carry him back.
"Godai! Godai!" Ichijou said, gently shaking his lover, trying not to panic. One hand smeared lubricant and come on Godai's shoulder; the other was clean. Godai's eyes were sightless and for an instant his Kuuga mark had glowed white on his forehead, but then it had vanished. "Godai!"
Godai blinked once, a beat of lashes like butterfly's wings, and then there was sense back in his eyes. He breathed out once, then quizzically asked "Ichijou-san?"
Ichijou stared at him, them laughed softly and lowered himself to the sofa partially on top of Godai. "Only you," he said. "You're... all right?"
"Mm," Godai confirmed with a nod. He nuzzled lips against Ichijou's neck, then spoke quietly. "I... think the Agito part of me wanted to say something."
"Something?" Ichijou asked, wide-eyed.
Godai nodded again. "I think it likes you too," he responded, bright-eyed. Ichijou wasn't sure if Godai was teasing him or not. "Ichijou-san, what happened?"
"You... went away," Ichijou answered, not sure how to describe it. "Your Kuuga mark burned white, here." He touched the spot on Godai's forehead where it had. Godai's eyes nearly crossed, following his finger. Ichijou removed it. "Is this going to happen every time?"
"Mmm... I don't think so," Godai answered. "It doesn't feel like it will, anyway," he said.
Ichijou smiled a little. Every time something new had happened to Godai as Kuuga, they'd had to trust his intuition about it, and it had always been correct. "Well, if you say so," he said, and nestled closer, enjoying the contact, the warmth of Godai's body.
"Mm," Godai murmured, and traced gentle fingers down Ichijou's back for a few minutes.
Eventually, though, Godai's stomach growled, ruining the mood. Godai looked abashed, while Ichijou laughed. "You'd think you hadn't had enough to eat this morning," Ichijou teased his lover.
Godai grinned. "I haven't eaten for three months!" he defended himself. "My appetite's big enough for you and hot cakes!"
"Me and hot cakes and a shower," Ichijou bargained up shrewdly. The few minutes of cuddling had been nice, but he wasn't about to ignore the various fluids by now smeared across both of their bodies.
Godai nodded. "You and a shower and hot cakes," he agreed. "And, Ichijou-san... you called me Yuusuke."
"So?" Ichijou asked, sitting up, then standing. He gathered his clothing from the floor. Most of it was still wearable following the planned shower. He'd want a new pair of boxers, though. He smiled at Godai. "You can call me Kaoru if you want."
"But you don't feel very much like a Kaoru, though, Ichijou-san," Godai replied, following him to the bathroom, carrying and examining his own bundle of clothing.
"That would probably be why no one but Mother calls me that," Ichijou replied. "She read The Tale of Genji while expecting me."
"Really? That explains it, I guess," Godai replied. "I think our parents just made up my name and Minori's.... But Ichijou-san," he said, placing his clothes with Ichijou's in the counter basket, "it's okay for you to call me Yuusuke whenever you want."
A part of him had already known that, Ichijou thought, stopping to look at Godai. But, still, to be given permission to use that name whenever he wanted.... "Thank you, Godai," he said quietly. "Yuusuke...."
Godai smiled beatifically and, catching his fingers in Ichijou's hair, drew him closer for another kiss. "Merry Christmas, Ichijou-san," he said quietly.
