Under the almost heavy glow of the moonlight that crept in the window, Eiri Yuki looked more like an angel than an actual human being. Even when he was slumped over his desk the way he was, a trickle of drool pooling at the corner of his mouth. It was starting to slide onto the desk, and the way it glistened in the light of the computer screen that still showed a partially written text document with its blinking cursor made Shuichi laugh softly.
“Yuuuuuuki,” he called out softly, leaving the doorway behind in favor of the interior of the room. The blonde in the desk chair, head and arms resting on the desk before him, barely stirred. “Yuki,” Shuichi tried again. “Wake up, sleepyhead. You fell asleep at your computer again.”
“Go ‘way,” was the only response, and Shuchi frowned.
“Come on, Yuki! Come to bed. You’re gonna catch a cold if you sleep there all night!”
“Shut up and die,” Eiri responded, lifting his head just slightly, his pale blue eyes slits that spoke certain doom for any fool who dared cross him at the moment. Unluckily for him, Shuichi was the biggest fool around.
“Hey, you asshole, I was trying to give you a nice wakeup call like a good wife! What the hell is this!?” he trilled sharply, making Eiri clutch at his head. “This is the thanks I get!?”
“Thanks?” Eiri growled, finally sitting up fully and swiveling around in his chair so he could face the object of his annoyance with the full brunt of his wrath. “What the hell am I supposed to be thanking you for? Waking me up at three in the morning, or giving me a headache?”
“Neither! You’re supposed to be thanking me for waking you up so you don’t end up with a crick in your neck or god forbid carpal tunnel!”
“You don’t get carpal tunnel from sleeping at a desk, dumbass!”
“Hey, don’t look at me, I’m no doctor!” Shuichi shrieked.
“Then stop talking about shit you don’t understand!”
“Stop yelling at me!”
“You were the one who started yelling in the first place!” Eiri’s voice was a low, dismal growl, and he turned his chair off to the side so he could stare pointedly out the window. “If you’re gonna talk like an idiot then go to bed. I have better things to do than listen to you bitch and moan.”
“Well FINE!” Shuichi snapped, turning dramatically on his heel. It was at that inopportune moment that his socked foot happened to catch on the edge of his overly long pajama pants, and on the smooth hardwood of Eiri’s office, he slipped. “YUUUUUKI!” he screamed as he went down. “This is the end! I’m gonna die! Catch meeee!” though a good portion of his words came out when he was already on the floor, lying flat on his side with one arm wedged under him. “Ugh. Oof. Oww.”
A bit less disinterested now, Eiri lifted his head, turning in Shuichi’s direction as he removed his reading glasses. “You okay?” he asked, allowing a bit of budding concern into his tone at the pathetic sight of Shuichi Shindou lying on his side and whimpering.
“It really hurts,” the singer whined, shifting a little but really only succeeding in rolling back and forth on the ground. “Owwwwww.”
“Shhhhh,” Eiri scolded as he shook his head. The reading glasses were deposited on the desk; he had a feeling his productivity for the night was over with. The chair creaked as he rose from it and padded his way over to Shuichi, his care feet silent on the hardwood though Shuichi’s stocking feet had somehow managed to make a hell of a lot of noise. The look Shuichi gave up at him as he knelt beside him was enough to melt an iceberg, but Eiri was in no mood and it simply annoyed him. “Are you hurt?”
“Yuki came to rescue me,” Shuichi sang softly, cheeks pink, and Eiri rolled his eyes.
“You seem pretty damn pleased with yourself,” he observed, letting his hand rest on those ridiculous once-pink locks against his better judgment. “Do you always act like this when you inconvenience people? Wait, don’t answer that, I already know the answer.”
“You’re such a jerk,” was Shuichi’s irritated response, though his furrowed brow softened when the hand Eiri left on his head moved back and forth a bit, stroking him a little. “Do you always act like this when you rescue a damsel in distress?”
“Damsel, he says,” Eiri growled. “Like hell.” Even as he spoke the harsh words he was reaching out to heft Shuichi off the floor. He was smaller than Eiri was, but he still had far more compact muscle than it looked like. He was always heavier than the novelist anticipated and he grunted softly as he drew him to his chest and stood. Shuichi was still pouting as he was deposited rather gently into Eiri’s desk chair. His comical forced frown was replaced by a look of surprise when Eiri pecked his cheek before kneeling before him. “Okay. So. Where does it hurt? Show me.”
“Well,” Shuichi said, blushing slightly. “It doesn’t uh… well… it doesn’t really hurt so much anymore.”
Eiri’s face creased immediately into a formidable frown. “You goddamn liar,” he grumped. “Trying to make me feel bad for you.”
“Well… I like it when you worry about me!” Shuichi declared loudly, resulting in the both of them sharing a surprised expression. “That is… ah…”
“You like making me worry?” Eiri asked, leaning forward with a dangerous look in his eyes. “Is that it? You’re such a creep.”
“Hey, it’s not creepy! I just… it’s nice. When you fuss over me. When you take care of me.” The blush deepened a little, and Eiri’s irritation lifted somewhat, his frown replaced with a smug smirk.
“So, you like it when I take care of you,” he began, his voice lower now, almost a purr. Shuichi just faced him with a determined look, his eyes as easy to read as ever. “Is that so?” his tone was a bit more playful now, and one hand slid slowly up Shuichi’s calf. He could feel the warmth of the younger man’s skin through the fabric, and he had to admit even that small indication of the vivacity that was Shuichi excited him. A small sound escaped Shuichi’s lips as the hand made its way to his knee. “Does it hurt here? How about here?”
“Yuki,” Shuichi breathed, deep brown eyes focused on his. Eiri liked when he had his attention. “What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” Eiri purred, a little dangerously. “I’m taking care of you.”
Smiling a bit in spite of himself, smug, Eiri slid his hand up Shuichi’s inner thigh, coming nearly to where thigh met pelvis before he stopped, asking again about the state of pain or lack thereof in various areas before his lips pressed to Shuichi’s knee, kissing there and then up his thigh. It was faintly mesmerizing, seeing Shuichi so completely taken aback by the turn of events. Eiri had to admit he loved to keep his lover on his toes. Eiri loved the soft sound of his name on Shuichi’s lips, and it drove him to tug at the strings of his lounge pants with one hand even as the other slid up under his t-shirt to stroke the side of his abdomen.
“I’m guessing even if anything did hurt from the fall you wouldn’t even be conscious of it while I’m touching you,” Eiri whispered against Shuichi’s thigh, his voice ringing with all that confidence that he knew Shuichi loved.
“P… probably not,” was Shuichi’s halfhearted reply, but he wasn’t really listening, and Eiri knew it. He was too busy drowning in the touch, in the intoxicating feeling that was almost like a magnetic pull Eiri was sure they were both conscious of whenever they touched. Eiri kissed his way up Shuichi’s thigh and then stomach, slowly, lifting the fabric of his shirt so he could press increasingly wet kisses along his ribs, the solid curves of his muscles, his nipples, his chest, his neck. Shuichi was slowly beginning to pant by then, and when Eiri finally moved his kisses from along his jawline to his mouth he returned the kiss hungrily. His eager tongue found Eiri’s lips almost immediately and made him chuckle softly as he indulged his lover, tongue meeting his as his mouth opened to heat up the kiss. If there was one thing Shuichi was talented at, it was kissing, and Eiri was aware of the desperation in Shuichi’s kiss, soft moans growing in his throat as he poured all of his boundless passion into kissing him. They continued this way for quite a while, until Shuichi’s hand wound its way into Eiri’s hair, pulling slightly at the strands, and he knew it was a sign of just how desperate he was getting. He prided himself in knowing Shuichi’s miniscule cues, in knowing exactly when he wanted to move forward.
“Yuki,” Shuichi whispered in a long, needy breath the instead Eiri broke away from the kiss to trail his still-wet lips again over the tan skin of his neck, his shoulder, his chest. “Eiri.”
Leaving the shirt hiked up so he could reach the bare skin with his increasingly greedy mouth. Tasting the faint saltiness of that beading sweat of arousal that was breaking in a fine and beautiful sheen out over his lover’s body. Every moment felt almost incomprehensibly full, and Eiri allowed himself to drown in it, allowed Shuichi to take over him completely as he always did even when the aforementioned singer was simply sitting still in the chair with his hands at his sides and Eiri was the one in control. He was never really in control with Shuichi, and he had come to find that he didn’t mind. Sex—specifically sex with Shuichi— was the one time when he allowed himself to be wholly honest, completely vulnerable. It was oddly beautiful in a way even as it was terrifying. Shuichi had the ability to break him into pieces with the slightest word if he really wanted to, especially during their sex, and yet he never did. Eiri looked up to meet the other man’s eyes, and as they locked he was sure Shuichi could tell. He was completely at Shuichi’s mercy even though he was nearly always the one dominating their lovemaking, and he had a feeling Shuichi knew.
“L… love… you…” Shuichi gasped while Eiri became more desperate, drawing him out of his pants and starting to stroke him slowly. Eiri relished the way his boyish but still somehow delicate hands clenched the arms of the chair, his body starting already to rock against his hand. It was an undeniably gorgeous sight, Shuichi Shindou in all his bombastic glory rocking against Eiri’s hand with the abandon and openness that could only come, he was sure, from the pure trust he knew he had in him. There were times when he wondered if Shuichi knew what an utterly stupid and self-destructive thing it was to fall in love with a man like Eiri, who was defined so starkly by the fault lines of trauma and pain and irreplaceable loss of humanity in the darkest of his hearts. But looking up at the young singer as he took him into his mouth and seeing nothing but pure adoration and contentment in his eyes when they met his, that thought dissipated.
If there’s anything good left in me at all, Shuichi, it’s you…
If there was indeed any hope for Eiri Yuki, he had the foresight to realize that terrifying as it was, it all lie in this person in front of him, who was struggling with what he was sure was a valiant effort not to buck into Eiri’s mouth and choke him. Smiling, he let him go so he could situate them better, sliding Shuichi’s pants and underwear down and then lifting his hips, closing his paler hands around them and loving the contrast against Shuichi’s tan skin as he held those slender hips in place while his mouth went back to work.
Shuichi was right earlier; Eiri was an jerk. But he was Shuichi’s jerk, and he felt there had to be something to that, something worth trying in that. And when Shuichi whimpered at the fingers Eiri slipped into him, when he was arching his back against the chair and making it creak while his lithe body trembled with the force of his climax, Eiri could sense with some dim sort of awakening that everything, absolutely everything had changed in the two years since he had met the person who was currently gasping for breath, slumping back against the chair and sliding out of Eiri’s mouth.
“Wow…” Shuichi whispered, breath still hard. He slid out of the chair, legs still tangled up in his pants, and ended up in Eiri’s lap. “That was amazing! You… Yuki?”
Eiri was simply staring hard at him, like he was a puzzle he hadn’t quite managed to crack just yet, and Shuichi blinked at him.
“Are you okay, Yuki? What’s—“
“Thanks,” Eiri said finally, smiling in a way that infuriated him immediately, because he was sure he looked as embarrassed as he felt.
“Thanks? For what?” Shuichi looked confused, and Eiri pushed him off of him and stood, helping the smaller man to his feet and then pulling up his pants for him.
“Never mind. Doesn’t matter,” he said quickly, running a hand briefly through his hair and then turning for the door. “Come on, I’m not finished with you yet. Let’s go to the bedroom.”
“Yeah, we shouldn’t do any more in here,” Shuichi replied. “Or one of us might get carpal tunnel!” his tone was playful, and Eiri actually chuckled, pausing as he walked out the doorway to catch a glimpse of Shuichi following him almost meekly, cheeks still pink from the exertion. “Oh? What is it, Yuki?”
“Shuichi.” Somehow, the mood was lighter than Eiri could have anticipated, and he smiled warmly at the dark-haired man and then continued on his way to the bedroom. “I love you.”