[fic] Ripple Effect [Kio/Soubi, NC-17]
Ripple Effect [April 19-24th, 2006]
NC-17 // complete // Kio/Soubi // romance/drama // 4,813 words
Warning: Adult
Note: Dubbed 'that smut fic in which the smut is not the point', this story is a response to wicked_pistil's request for Kio/Soubi and matches her prompts: silence, redemption, brilliant. In between the lines, anyway. Edited by aluragayle and chaineddove, for which I thank them very much; all remaining faults are mine. I hope you'll enjoy. Comments are ♥
Ripple Effect
By Rhea Logan
I'm tired, I'm tired of being
Cautious; it aches, and
The only thing cautious now
Is my hand not to break you
Trespassers William - Fragment
"How can you draw when it's so quiet?" Kio tossed his question offhandedly, squirming a bit. "It's unnerving."
Soubi's eyes flickered to his face and shifted back to the sketchbook in his lap. "I like the sound of pencil strokes," he said, lips forming a small smile around the words. "And music distracts me."
Kio shrugged. He would not say no to any distraction, right now. "You're weird," he stated the obvious and turned his attention back to an annoying spot under his left shoulder blade. It would not stop itching, no matter how much he scratched.
But he dared not move again; Soubi had scowled at him twice before, reminding him that good models did not fidget like that.
He rolled back his shoulders as soon as Soubi laid down his sketchbook, his hand darting behind to rub at the irritated skin. He did not mind nudity; he did not even mind the fact that his arousal was so obvious he had given up trying to hide it a while back.
"Are you done?" he asked, propping himself up on one elbow. He did mind Soubi's indifference - for once, he mused, Soubi could look at him with more favorable eyes.
Soubi looked at him - a relaxed, curious glance, cast casually above the rim of his glasses. He rose from the floor, his arms stretched above his head. "Not exactly," he said.
He strolled toward the bed where Kio lay, sprawled naked, shivering not from the cold, but from the sudden heat erupting within.
"But... Hmm." Soubi paused, stepped back and tilted his head, watching Kio with slightly narrowed eyes. "There's something... ah, something not quite right about this composition."
Kio shifted his weight and crossed his left leg over the right one, reassuming his earlier position. "Is there?" he grinned. "You can undress and lie down like this. I want to see for myself."
A quiet snort broke past Soubi's lips, flyaway escapees from his ponytail stirring as he shook his head. "Kio, you never give up, do you?"
Against the ice-cold sting in his chest, Kio put on what he hoped resembled a wicked little smile. "Of course not," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "I'm irresistible, after all. You're doomed, I tell you. One day, you won't be able to hold back."
One sandy brow shot up at this, and the corners of Soubi's lips quirked in a tiny smile. He said nothing; instead, he reached for the hair cast haphazardly across Kio's brow. He brushed it away, fingers lingering between the strands; Kio all but gave in to the urge to close his eyes.
The hand in his hair was not there to caress, but he liked to imagine it was, starved for the heat of Soubi's lean body so close to him. He liked to think too much of Soubi's intentions, imagine where each next step would take them, even as they kept moving in circles. He felt more naked without his glasses than without his clothes, as if the lack of barrier of lenses exposed his very heart and every one of his needs to Soubi's scrutiny.
Pushing these thoughts away, Kio looked up and gasped. His flesh simmered with rekindled need and he coughed, eyes darting aslant to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks.
"Hold on!" he exclaimed, edging slightly away. "I need a short break." Kio pulled himself up, already headed out before his feet touched the floor.
Warm fingers around his elbow stopped him short. He cast a panicked glance over his shoulder, right into Soubi's amused eyes.
"I'm about to finish. You can go once I'm done, hm?"
Kio looked helplessly around in search of an excuse. He was partly glad that he had shed his clothes an hour before; they would be far too tight to contain him right now. "I'm tired," he lied; unsuccessfully, if Soubi's unfaltering amusement was any indication. "I need to stretch a little and find something sweet before I pass out."
Soubi tipped his head, but his fingers did not loosen their grip on Kio's arm. "You look fine to me," he said. He reached with his other hand to touch Kio's hot cheek, knuckles trailing gently down the line of his jaw. "Very healthy. Astounding, considering your lifestyle is worse than mine."
Kio gave a strangled chuckle at that blatant lie. But the call of Soubi's hand, only slightly cooler than his face, bid his eyes closed, his resistance gone.
"Fine, fine," he pushed the words past the lump in his throat. "I'll wait. But make it quick."
Soubi moved both their hands between them and put a light pressure on Kio's chest, urging him to lie down. The hand that had rested on Kio's cheek stole towards the back of his neck, supporting him as Kio eased himself back onto the bed. His heart hammered a wild staccato against his ribs and his breathing picked up pace - he knew for sure that Soubi noticed, and did not care to guess why that idiot was so hell-bent on driving him insane.
Then, without a word, Soubi rose from the bed. A bitter sting of disappointment broke the moment and knocked Kio back down to earth.
"Let me close the window," Soubi said in half-whisper.
Kio blinked, surprised. "I don't care," he said. "It's fine."
A soft chuckle reverberated low in Soubi's throat. "You're covered in goosebumps."
Kio pursed his lips, biting back words that would tell Soubi, in no uncertain terms, of the reason why his skin crawled, why his heart strived to beat its way out of his chest. But he bit his tongue instead, and rubbed a sweaty palm against his upper arm.
He sighed. "You are so returning the favor, Sou-chan."
Soubi turned, sandy eyebrows raised. "Hm?"
Kio narrowed his eyes, jabbing a finger in the air. "One good turn deserves another. I'm drawing you next."
A small smile drew the corners of Soubi's lips upward. He gave his head a light shake. "I don't think so," he said.
"Look at that," Kio teased, his voice laced with a daring undertone, "Agatsuma is scared."
The window clicked shut and Soubi crossed the room, returning to his earlier place. He took his time retrieving his drawing utensils from the floor. "Kio," he said, amused, "that's a cheap trick."
Kio shrugged. He sometimes wondered how Soubi could defeat him without even trying. "It's not like you mind," he said lightly. "The more elaborate ones don't really work on you, either."
Seated on the floor, Soubi returned to sketching, oblivious to Kio's attempts at upholding the feeble conversation. Kio shrugged, reminded himself to stay in one position. He ruffled his hair the way Soubi liked it in a quick, discreet movement of one hand. He did not think he could take him on this close again without losing control.
Soubi's hand steadily worked. Pencil whispered against paper in quick, feather-light strokes. Kio swallowed around the dryness in his throat, for the nth time meeting his friend's brief glance, behind it nothing but professional, artistic interest. He pictured ice cubes on his skin, cold water cooling, slowing down the wild rush of blood in his veins. Anything, he thought, anything to ease the burning, the tingling, the need.
He had almost finished counting to hundred again when Soubi leaned back, outstretched arms locked behind him, and clicked his tongue.
"Beautiful."
Kio did not feel beautiful at all. "Thanks," he said. He felt heavy, slick skin sticky, itching, more uncomfortable than he cared to admit. He stretched a little to ease his stiff muscles and distract himself.
Soubi tugged at his hair tie. Light silk in freefall, Kio mused as it spilled in delicate waves across broad shoulders clothed in black. He looked away.
"Would you like to see?"
Kio blinked twice, forcing his mind to make the correct connection and remember that Soubi was asking about the sketches he had drawn. "I, um," he started, but his voice failed him and he cleared his throat, fumbling in the pile of his clothes under the bed for his glasses. "Yeah, sure."
He pushed the spectacles up the bridge of his nose, second-guessing the idea when the world returned to sharp focus, and so did Soubi - a distant riddle of a man he liked to call a friend - and, in his wishful thoughts, something else, as well.
Soubi held out his sketchbook, offering a smile Kio had long since learned to translate as, ‘I'm here because I have to be.' He spared the rushed drawings a fleeting look, nodding in appreciation even though the soft pencil lines blurred. He let his hands drop and dive into the pocket of his discarded pants in search of his wristwatch, or another distraction.
"It's late," Soubi offered before Kio could check the time. "You can stay."
"Really?" For a moment, Kio forgot the lack of comfort, the sudden cold, his decision to leave as soon as they were done. "Ah, Sou-chan!" he grinned; forcing it proved not as difficult as it had once seemed. "Does that mean I get to see you naked, too?"
Soubi let out a slightly exaggerated sigh, rubbing the side of his neck with the back of his hand. "There's a fresh towel next to the tub," he said, oblivious to Kio's remark. "Clean yourself up. I'll find you something to sleep on."
Ignored as he had expected, Kio rolled his eyes and crossed his goosebump-covered arms over his chest. "You're no fun," he said; to himself, he sounded like a disappointed child. He did not care; in a way, he felt like one.
But Soubi was not looking at him anymore; he fingered the rim of his glasses, narrowed eyes fixed on a sketch. "I'm sorry," he muttered, distracted, and Kio knew he did not feel apologetic at all.
His arms dropped loosely to his sides. Kio looked down at himself, scowling at the glaringly obvious evidence of the nature of his thoughts. Of course Soubi would not look; he had to be embarrassed for them both, if Kio failed to worry about proper conduct. He turned, fingers raking through the chaos of his hair, and muttered a quiet ‘thanks for letting me stay' that Soubi did not hear, anyway.
The curtain whispered around him as he pulled at its edge and drew it closed. Somewhere beyond it, Soubi was doing his usual best at pretending he did not care. And yet he had to care, didn't he? Kio busied himself with the task of finding excuses for himself, for Soubi, wondering about the purpose of calling someone a friend if they shared no bond of mutual concern.
He sat at the edge of the tub, wincing at the cold pricking his skin. Suddenly he realized that sleeping in one room with Soubi equaled a wicked kind of grand agony. He was hard, and it hurt, his body aggravated with an onset of ache from tension and unsatisfied need.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he took himself firmly in his hand. He reached back for the tap and let the water run, scalding hot, loud enough to swallow any other noise. He did not ask for much; why Soubi was so averse to pleasure, he failed to understand. Lightheaded, wild images shifting in his mind's eye with the quickening strokes of his hand, Kio gripped the edge of the tub until his palm ached.
Neither of them had their ears anymore, he thought, panting, lips forming a soundless shape of Soubi's name. No one has to know. He didn't need much - heat rose and wrapped him, washing in waves over sweaty skin. He sank his teeth in the soft flesh of his lip, stifling the sound that threatened to break through his wet breath as he came.
Boneless, he closed the tap with a heavy hand and eased himself into the water. His hair clung to his face, eyelids too heavy to lift them, too tired to think. He barely registered the shuffling of feet beyond the curtain and thought nothing of it.
He kept his eyes clamped shut, waiting for his breathing to return to its normal pace. The remains of strain dispersed, even as his body still simmered with an aftertaste of pleasure, stolen in secrecy.
Fading away, it left a hollow ache.
:::
Kio returned wrapped in a damp towel, still on slightly shaking legs. He squinted into the bright light at Soubi's silhouette - bared from waist up - perched on the bed.
His turtleneck, cast aside, formed a shapeless bundle of black against the fresh, stark-white sheets. Kio smiled but Soubi turned his head, tangled hair slipping over his shoulder, winding slightly to hide his neck. He gripped a long piece of white fabric in his right hand, unmoving, his shallow breaths a faint disturbance of the still air.
Kio ignored the sudden throbbing in his heart.
"Soubi," he started softly. He flipped the light switch, bare feet whispering against the floor; he crossed the room and stood a small distance away.
Soubi did not move. Kio sighed, easing himself onto one knee, one arm draped loosely over it. "There's nothing there that I haven't seen."
Soubi looked at him - a sharp, clear stare - yet gentle, the contours of his face soft and sweet.
"That's not the point," he said simply. He rubbed the bandage idly between his fingers, half-closed eyes searching Kio's face.
I understand, Kio thought, compelled to speak, but he held his tongue. I know you think you belong to him. But your idea of happiness is slowly killing you. And me, his inner voice supplied with a bitter laugh. Not like you'd ever notice that, hm?
Slowly he rose, closing the distance between them in two long steps. The worn mattress sagged a little under him as he sat. Kio drew up his legs, shifting his weight until he settled behind Soubi's back.
Silent, he tugged at the end of the fabric that hung from Soubi's hand. His grip did not give and Kio waited, pulling ever so gently until Soubi's fingers allowed him to take it away. He leaned into the heat beckoning to him from between Soubi's shoulder blades, the reflected warmth of his own breath moist on his cheek.
The tip of his nose brushed against Soubi's ear. He whispered, "Hold up your hair."
Over his left shoulder, Soubi cast a glance laced with silent inquiry, blue eyes alert, seeking his. Hesitation made him still - Kio gave a small nod, an even smaller smile, summoning all the patience he could muster to hold equally motionless. Seconds passed, measured only by the sound of their breathing until, at last, Soubi lifted his hands from where they rested in his lap.
Dark contours shifted against the night; Soubi let out a long sigh, and swept his hair up.
Kio could close his eyes, and his hands would still remember the moves that wound the fabric around Soubi's neck. He let the muscle memory guide him, straightening the creases as he went - signs of frequent use - slowly working his way through the end.
He did not need to see; he felt enough - the fabric between his fingertips, the tickling of the soft endings of Soubi's hair on his skin. A delicate fragrance of soap, a hint of cigarette smoke, and something else - a scent of the life Soubi lived when he walked alone.
He tucked the end of the bandage underneath the layers, but left his hand resting against Soubi's shoulder. His own body heat and Soubi's combined distracted him with thoughts he tried to will away, yet failed. Soubi had made himself clear... more often than necessary; he should have grown accustomed to it. He hadn't. Rejection always hurt the same.
Yet it did not stop him from wrapping his arm loosely around Soubi's neck - Kio barely swallowed a gasp when Soubi yielded, easily, and leaned back against his chest.
"Sou-chan?" he squirmed a little as Soubi laid his head against his cheek. "Don't tell me you're going to sleep like this."
Soubi pulled himself up a little. "Of course not," he said, and Kio winced with regret over a chance noticed too late.
He should have let go, but his arm stiffened to keep Soubi from leaving. He swung the other one and laced his fingers in a firm lock across Soubi's chest. His breath caught as he rose onto his knees; Kio balanced his weight against him, expecting Soubi to push him away, already thinking of the things he would say. He shuddered with dread for the cold night outside, cursing apologies and jokes and counterfeit smiles.
Just once, he mused, the frantic thought a loud echo around the corners of his mind. Just this once, Soubi, you could let me-
Soubi shifted against him, whispering, "All right."
Kio jumped, eyes wide, trying to pierce the dark veil between them. "What?" he almost choked on his tongue, the tangle of his hands that kept Soubi close forgotten. "What do you-"
What words he tried to speak, Soubi swallowed with a kiss. Kio froze. He could only watch Soubi turn and press lightly against him, his hand twisting in the hair at the nape of his neck.
He pulled away, panting - he should have remembered to breathe, but Soubi's lips on his had tossed balance and logic out of his reach. He fixed an intent, wide-eyed stare on Soubi's face, defeated by darkness that swept across his vision. He only managed to think that it didn't make sense before Soubi nuzzled the sensitive skin just below his ear-
Kio shoved him onto the bed with a hissed, "Don't play with me like this."
Soubi landed flat on his back, boneless, letting Kio shift on top of him and straddle his hips. "I'm not playing."
Do you have any idea how much I wanted this?
Eyes narrowed, chest laboring in and out with heaving, arrhythmic, breath, Kio caught his lower lip between his teeth. He planted heavy palms on Soubi's shoulders; his fingers dug into taut flesh, pushed him into the mattress.
"Then what do you think you're doing?" Kio asked, head spinning. He hooked his finger around the nosepiece of Soubi's glasses and yanked them off. "Checking how far you can go? This isn't funny, Soubi! You're teasing the hell out of me and then what, you'll knock me off the bed and tell me to go to sleep?"
Soubi's calm infuriated him. Kio felt his strong, warm hands on his waist, gently pushing him away, and huffed in disbelief. "That figures."
Soubi pulled his eyes from Kio's face. "You can have the bed."
Kio caught his hand to stop him before he moved any further and shivered - Soubi's fingers curled into a fist that trembled in his grasp. "I don't want it," he choked out half-whispered words. In the pale lamplight that stole its way inside through the open blinds, he saw small, raised hairs, goosebumps slithering up Soubi's bare arms. "It's hard to sleep when you're around."
Soubi quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"
Kio felt himself tense a little as he leaned into him, his nose touching Soubi's, breath mingled into one cloud between them. "'Cause you're a pervert," he murmured against Soubi's lips.
Soubi's lashes tickled Kio's cheeks as his eyes slid shut. "I'm not."
His slim silhouette slipped slowly away; Kio held his breath, but Soubi did not struggle. He did not push him away, either - he turned his eyes back to Kio and lowered himself onto the bed.
Kio swallowed thickly, eyes raking a long stare up the lithe form stretched beneath him. "Sure you're not."
The answering smile was inviting enough.
Soubi's eyelids gave the tiniest flutter at the first ghost of a touch of Kio's fingers, feathering against his ribs. His chest rose with a deep intake of air, soundless, the tensing of his muscles the only reaction Kio could perceive.
Suddenly, he felt inadequate to this, with his quivering hands, his shuddering breath. Soubi felt like damaged silk; smooth surface offended by thin, white lines of old scars. Kio's arms shook as he leaned over, hands splayed across the sheets on both sides of Soubi's shoulders. Slowly, he lowered his head for the first touch of moist lips to burning skin.
Lower still, propped on his elbows, Kio saw little beneath the veil of his tousled hair. Soubi's head rolled to the side, his eyes tightly shut. Kio dragged the tip of his tongue under his collarbone and heard Soubi swallow, felt the rage of shivers through his flesh.
I won't ask if you want this, he thought, turning his head to rest a hot cheek against Soubi's torso, above his heart. You always say all the wrong things.
He licked his lips, leaving them moist and warm, and pressed a kiss after slowly planted kiss along an invisible path leading down Soubi's left side. He shivered as his tongue caught the edge of a scar.
I wonder why.
He let his fingers wander slowly up his arm, and his heart leapt at the faint sensation of muscles trembling ever-so-lightly under his touch. The steady rhythm of Soubi's heartbeat altered in time, gaining speed and irregularity with the quickening of breath.
"Kio..."
His name, barely breathed through a sigh, made Kio's heart skip a beat. He laid gentle fingers upon Soubi's mouth.
Just feel this, he thought, but said only, "Don't talk."
Soubi shifted under him but Kio did not remove his hand - he started as Soubi's lips parted and he felt his hot breath escape between his fingertips. A flick of Soubi's tongue scorched his skin, white-hot flood of fire through long-starved flesh.
The towel slipped loose and fell from his hips. Kio shuddered as his bare skin brushed Soubi's navel, both hot and slick. He lifted his head - Soubi was looking at him, alert to the change, and Kio almost heard his second thoughts. His own had fled; he felt himself grow hard again and craved to feel Soubi's hands, his mouth, all of this man close around him and drive him over the edge.
He let his hair feather Soubi's torso instead, wet lips kissing their way down, down, until he caught Soubi's belt between his teeth and tugged. Soubi lifted his arms to grasp the headboard; Kio could not see his face, but he drowned in the thick sound of a sigh and shivered, then pulled at the belt again. Fingers fumbling to get rid of the obstacle Soubi's clothes put in his way, he distracted himself from his own growing arousal, biting small bits of Soubi's skin here and there.
These marks would fade, he thought, and this night would end. But he had later for such concerns.
He slid his hands under Soubi, lifting him a bit. The last piece of clothing came off; Kio kicked it to the floor with his foot, discarding his own towel all together along with it. He paused to look at Soubi again - beautiful, he thought, and tried not to remember that this flesh was marred by marks that bound him to someone else. The white veil above them shone, excess contrast to the swiveling of shadows across the walls - sparing him, hiding him, whispering of the secrets behind the thorns.
He imagined - too easily - a man who knew no pain, no restrictions, no guilt. That Soubi belonged to him. He had drifted off; Kio didn't want to know why, if he could guess where to. He moved up, skin on skin, and reached for one of Soubi's hands that gripped the wood above his head.
Finger after finger, his hold came undone.
"Come back," he said as he laid Soubi's palm, coated with his hand, against the back of his neck. It burned. "You're with me now."
Soubi's fingers tangled in his hair; no words came, no affirmations nor apologies of any kind. Kio covered the length of his body with his own, smaller form, capturing the heat between their skin, their breath between their lips.
Your words are needles dressed in flowers and silky butterflies.
Kio timed his breathing to ease the rapid pulse straining underneath his skin. But, Soubi, he mused as blunt fingernails grazed their way down and Soubi gasped- your body doesn't lie.
Braced on trembling arms, Kio rocked against him, flesh to flesh and blending heat. He ran one finger across Soubi's parted lips, gathering moisture - he brought it to one hardened nub, drawing feather-like circles around it. He traced sensual patterns around the other one with his tongue, tasting salt and something he imagined was Soubi's alone.
He moved against him, up and down in quickening rhythm - soon, his body and Soubi's met and countered each other's dry thrusts. Kio's hand drifted down, a caressing dance of soft fingertips but, when he took Soubi's cock, his bones shook and he tightened his grasp.
Soubi's sharp intake of breath, the jolt of hard flesh against his palm, swept his mind clear of the remaining doubt.
His other hand lingered, parting with Soubi's nipple only when Kio slid all the way down, urging Soubi's legs apart with his knee. He lay between his thighs, smiling at their quivering, at another gasp. Soubi gripped a fistful of his hair - Kio closed his eyes, his tongue slipping slowly past hot, swollen lips.
Mine, now.
Kio mapped his length with tiny kisses; they lingered as he traced abstract shapes on the delicate skin, wet lips closing around one spot here, another there. Soubi's back arched lightly off the mattress - Kio tasted precome on his slick tongue, teeth scratching ever so lightly as he took Soubi into his mouth.
Soubi bit back a cry; his knuckles had to be white, his other hand a clenched fist pressed to his lips to stifle the first moan. Kio slid him slowly inside, reminded himself to breathe, and relished every quiver, every next strangled, barely audible sound.
Heat coiled inside him, the wild pounding of his heart loud in his ears. He closed his mouth around Soubi, letting his taste and his scent fill him, letting Soubi feel him as he swiped his tongue around the swollen head.
Soubi's hips buckled and he stiffened; Kio barely refrained from pausing to yell at him to let himself go. He began to move instead, wet mouth sliding up and down his length. He laid a hot, sweaty palm against Soubi's stomach and savored the fierce trembling of muscles there.
Soubi pushed into him once, twice - soundless now, but his breath hitched with every thrust. Kio pulled himself higher, angling his head to take him deeper, humming a tuneless melody low in his throat. He felt Soubi's fingers wind through his hair, grasping, then letting go, clutching impulsively over and over again. He could almost feel something in him straining to escape, beyond the urgency of his physical need, as though he had triggered something Soubi had buried too deep.
He watched Soubi's back form a graceful arch and he thought, a second before Soubi's taste flooded his mouth, that he had never seen him so beautifully out of control.
It burned, hot and thick and the shuddering echoed through him as he swallowed. His own panting breath mingled with Soubi's strangled cry; Kio clamped his eyes shut and let himself collapse. He wrapped his arms around Soubi and held him until the tremors passed.
He lay still, melting in the heat, still tasting Soubi as he flicked his tongue across his lips. At length, he felt Soubi's hand drag through his damp, mussed hair.
Minutes passed before Kio forced himself to move, reaching down for the towel to wipe him clean.
"What about you?"
Soubi's voice startled him - a different sound, words frayed around the edges, bleeding into each other in the heat of his uneven breath. "I'm fine," he said. "Though, next time-"
"There won't be a-"
"There will be," Kio interrupted easily. He had seen it coming. He shifted his weight and crawled up, eyes leveled with Soubi's. "You need it," he said firmly.
Soubi's raised eyebrows - a puny attempt at indifference - failed, dissolved in the afterglow. His forehead glistened with tiny beads of sweat, the dim veil clouding the sapphire of his eyes, gone.
"I..."
...don't? Kio finished in his thoughts, bending to cover Soubi's red, swollen lips with his own. He let Soubi taste himself on his tongue; he had never believed the lies in his unspoken words.
April 19-24th, 2006
NC-17 // complete // Kio/Soubi // romance/drama // 4,813 words
Warning: Adult
Note: Dubbed 'that smut fic in which the smut is not the point', this story is a response to wicked_pistil's request for Kio/Soubi and matches her prompts: silence, redemption, brilliant. In between the lines, anyway. Edited by aluragayle and chaineddove, for which I thank them very much; all remaining faults are mine. I hope you'll enjoy. Comments are ♥
Ripple Effect
By Rhea Logan
I'm tired, I'm tired of being
Cautious; it aches, and
The only thing cautious now
Is my hand not to break you
Trespassers William - Fragment
"How can you draw when it's so quiet?" Kio tossed his question offhandedly, squirming a bit. "It's unnerving."
Soubi's eyes flickered to his face and shifted back to the sketchbook in his lap. "I like the sound of pencil strokes," he said, lips forming a small smile around the words. "And music distracts me."
Kio shrugged. He would not say no to any distraction, right now. "You're weird," he stated the obvious and turned his attention back to an annoying spot under his left shoulder blade. It would not stop itching, no matter how much he scratched.
But he dared not move again; Soubi had scowled at him twice before, reminding him that good models did not fidget like that.
He rolled back his shoulders as soon as Soubi laid down his sketchbook, his hand darting behind to rub at the irritated skin. He did not mind nudity; he did not even mind the fact that his arousal was so obvious he had given up trying to hide it a while back.
"Are you done?" he asked, propping himself up on one elbow. He did mind Soubi's indifference - for once, he mused, Soubi could look at him with more favorable eyes.
Soubi looked at him - a relaxed, curious glance, cast casually above the rim of his glasses. He rose from the floor, his arms stretched above his head. "Not exactly," he said.
He strolled toward the bed where Kio lay, sprawled naked, shivering not from the cold, but from the sudden heat erupting within.
"But... Hmm." Soubi paused, stepped back and tilted his head, watching Kio with slightly narrowed eyes. "There's something... ah, something not quite right about this composition."
Kio shifted his weight and crossed his left leg over the right one, reassuming his earlier position. "Is there?" he grinned. "You can undress and lie down like this. I want to see for myself."
A quiet snort broke past Soubi's lips, flyaway escapees from his ponytail stirring as he shook his head. "Kio, you never give up, do you?"
Against the ice-cold sting in his chest, Kio put on what he hoped resembled a wicked little smile. "Of course not," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "I'm irresistible, after all. You're doomed, I tell you. One day, you won't be able to hold back."
One sandy brow shot up at this, and the corners of Soubi's lips quirked in a tiny smile. He said nothing; instead, he reached for the hair cast haphazardly across Kio's brow. He brushed it away, fingers lingering between the strands; Kio all but gave in to the urge to close his eyes.
The hand in his hair was not there to caress, but he liked to imagine it was, starved for the heat of Soubi's lean body so close to him. He liked to think too much of Soubi's intentions, imagine where each next step would take them, even as they kept moving in circles. He felt more naked without his glasses than without his clothes, as if the lack of barrier of lenses exposed his very heart and every one of his needs to Soubi's scrutiny.
Pushing these thoughts away, Kio looked up and gasped. His flesh simmered with rekindled need and he coughed, eyes darting aslant to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks.
"Hold on!" he exclaimed, edging slightly away. "I need a short break." Kio pulled himself up, already headed out before his feet touched the floor.
Warm fingers around his elbow stopped him short. He cast a panicked glance over his shoulder, right into Soubi's amused eyes.
"I'm about to finish. You can go once I'm done, hm?"
Kio looked helplessly around in search of an excuse. He was partly glad that he had shed his clothes an hour before; they would be far too tight to contain him right now. "I'm tired," he lied; unsuccessfully, if Soubi's unfaltering amusement was any indication. "I need to stretch a little and find something sweet before I pass out."
Soubi tipped his head, but his fingers did not loosen their grip on Kio's arm. "You look fine to me," he said. He reached with his other hand to touch Kio's hot cheek, knuckles trailing gently down the line of his jaw. "Very healthy. Astounding, considering your lifestyle is worse than mine."
Kio gave a strangled chuckle at that blatant lie. But the call of Soubi's hand, only slightly cooler than his face, bid his eyes closed, his resistance gone.
"Fine, fine," he pushed the words past the lump in his throat. "I'll wait. But make it quick."
Soubi moved both their hands between them and put a light pressure on Kio's chest, urging him to lie down. The hand that had rested on Kio's cheek stole towards the back of his neck, supporting him as Kio eased himself back onto the bed. His heart hammered a wild staccato against his ribs and his breathing picked up pace - he knew for sure that Soubi noticed, and did not care to guess why that idiot was so hell-bent on driving him insane.
Then, without a word, Soubi rose from the bed. A bitter sting of disappointment broke the moment and knocked Kio back down to earth.
"Let me close the window," Soubi said in half-whisper.
Kio blinked, surprised. "I don't care," he said. "It's fine."
A soft chuckle reverberated low in Soubi's throat. "You're covered in goosebumps."
Kio pursed his lips, biting back words that would tell Soubi, in no uncertain terms, of the reason why his skin crawled, why his heart strived to beat its way out of his chest. But he bit his tongue instead, and rubbed a sweaty palm against his upper arm.
He sighed. "You are so returning the favor, Sou-chan."
Soubi turned, sandy eyebrows raised. "Hm?"
Kio narrowed his eyes, jabbing a finger in the air. "One good turn deserves another. I'm drawing you next."
A small smile drew the corners of Soubi's lips upward. He gave his head a light shake. "I don't think so," he said.
"Look at that," Kio teased, his voice laced with a daring undertone, "Agatsuma is scared."
The window clicked shut and Soubi crossed the room, returning to his earlier place. He took his time retrieving his drawing utensils from the floor. "Kio," he said, amused, "that's a cheap trick."
Kio shrugged. He sometimes wondered how Soubi could defeat him without even trying. "It's not like you mind," he said lightly. "The more elaborate ones don't really work on you, either."
Seated on the floor, Soubi returned to sketching, oblivious to Kio's attempts at upholding the feeble conversation. Kio shrugged, reminded himself to stay in one position. He ruffled his hair the way Soubi liked it in a quick, discreet movement of one hand. He did not think he could take him on this close again without losing control.
Soubi's hand steadily worked. Pencil whispered against paper in quick, feather-light strokes. Kio swallowed around the dryness in his throat, for the nth time meeting his friend's brief glance, behind it nothing but professional, artistic interest. He pictured ice cubes on his skin, cold water cooling, slowing down the wild rush of blood in his veins. Anything, he thought, anything to ease the burning, the tingling, the need.
He had almost finished counting to hundred again when Soubi leaned back, outstretched arms locked behind him, and clicked his tongue.
"Beautiful."
Kio did not feel beautiful at all. "Thanks," he said. He felt heavy, slick skin sticky, itching, more uncomfortable than he cared to admit. He stretched a little to ease his stiff muscles and distract himself.
Soubi tugged at his hair tie. Light silk in freefall, Kio mused as it spilled in delicate waves across broad shoulders clothed in black. He looked away.
"Would you like to see?"
Kio blinked twice, forcing his mind to make the correct connection and remember that Soubi was asking about the sketches he had drawn. "I, um," he started, but his voice failed him and he cleared his throat, fumbling in the pile of his clothes under the bed for his glasses. "Yeah, sure."
He pushed the spectacles up the bridge of his nose, second-guessing the idea when the world returned to sharp focus, and so did Soubi - a distant riddle of a man he liked to call a friend - and, in his wishful thoughts, something else, as well.
Soubi held out his sketchbook, offering a smile Kio had long since learned to translate as, ‘I'm here because I have to be.' He spared the rushed drawings a fleeting look, nodding in appreciation even though the soft pencil lines blurred. He let his hands drop and dive into the pocket of his discarded pants in search of his wristwatch, or another distraction.
"It's late," Soubi offered before Kio could check the time. "You can stay."
"Really?" For a moment, Kio forgot the lack of comfort, the sudden cold, his decision to leave as soon as they were done. "Ah, Sou-chan!" he grinned; forcing it proved not as difficult as it had once seemed. "Does that mean I get to see you naked, too?"
Soubi let out a slightly exaggerated sigh, rubbing the side of his neck with the back of his hand. "There's a fresh towel next to the tub," he said, oblivious to Kio's remark. "Clean yourself up. I'll find you something to sleep on."
Ignored as he had expected, Kio rolled his eyes and crossed his goosebump-covered arms over his chest. "You're no fun," he said; to himself, he sounded like a disappointed child. He did not care; in a way, he felt like one.
But Soubi was not looking at him anymore; he fingered the rim of his glasses, narrowed eyes fixed on a sketch. "I'm sorry," he muttered, distracted, and Kio knew he did not feel apologetic at all.
His arms dropped loosely to his sides. Kio looked down at himself, scowling at the glaringly obvious evidence of the nature of his thoughts. Of course Soubi would not look; he had to be embarrassed for them both, if Kio failed to worry about proper conduct. He turned, fingers raking through the chaos of his hair, and muttered a quiet ‘thanks for letting me stay' that Soubi did not hear, anyway.
The curtain whispered around him as he pulled at its edge and drew it closed. Somewhere beyond it, Soubi was doing his usual best at pretending he did not care. And yet he had to care, didn't he? Kio busied himself with the task of finding excuses for himself, for Soubi, wondering about the purpose of calling someone a friend if they shared no bond of mutual concern.
He sat at the edge of the tub, wincing at the cold pricking his skin. Suddenly he realized that sleeping in one room with Soubi equaled a wicked kind of grand agony. He was hard, and it hurt, his body aggravated with an onset of ache from tension and unsatisfied need.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he took himself firmly in his hand. He reached back for the tap and let the water run, scalding hot, loud enough to swallow any other noise. He did not ask for much; why Soubi was so averse to pleasure, he failed to understand. Lightheaded, wild images shifting in his mind's eye with the quickening strokes of his hand, Kio gripped the edge of the tub until his palm ached.
Neither of them had their ears anymore, he thought, panting, lips forming a soundless shape of Soubi's name. No one has to know. He didn't need much - heat rose and wrapped him, washing in waves over sweaty skin. He sank his teeth in the soft flesh of his lip, stifling the sound that threatened to break through his wet breath as he came.
Boneless, he closed the tap with a heavy hand and eased himself into the water. His hair clung to his face, eyelids too heavy to lift them, too tired to think. He barely registered the shuffling of feet beyond the curtain and thought nothing of it.
He kept his eyes clamped shut, waiting for his breathing to return to its normal pace. The remains of strain dispersed, even as his body still simmered with an aftertaste of pleasure, stolen in secrecy.
Fading away, it left a hollow ache.
:::
Kio returned wrapped in a damp towel, still on slightly shaking legs. He squinted into the bright light at Soubi's silhouette - bared from waist up - perched on the bed.
His turtleneck, cast aside, formed a shapeless bundle of black against the fresh, stark-white sheets. Kio smiled but Soubi turned his head, tangled hair slipping over his shoulder, winding slightly to hide his neck. He gripped a long piece of white fabric in his right hand, unmoving, his shallow breaths a faint disturbance of the still air.
Kio ignored the sudden throbbing in his heart.
"Soubi," he started softly. He flipped the light switch, bare feet whispering against the floor; he crossed the room and stood a small distance away.
Soubi did not move. Kio sighed, easing himself onto one knee, one arm draped loosely over it. "There's nothing there that I haven't seen."
Soubi looked at him - a sharp, clear stare - yet gentle, the contours of his face soft and sweet.
"That's not the point," he said simply. He rubbed the bandage idly between his fingers, half-closed eyes searching Kio's face.
I understand, Kio thought, compelled to speak, but he held his tongue. I know you think you belong to him. But your idea of happiness is slowly killing you. And me, his inner voice supplied with a bitter laugh. Not like you'd ever notice that, hm?
Slowly he rose, closing the distance between them in two long steps. The worn mattress sagged a little under him as he sat. Kio drew up his legs, shifting his weight until he settled behind Soubi's back.
Silent, he tugged at the end of the fabric that hung from Soubi's hand. His grip did not give and Kio waited, pulling ever so gently until Soubi's fingers allowed him to take it away. He leaned into the heat beckoning to him from between Soubi's shoulder blades, the reflected warmth of his own breath moist on his cheek.
The tip of his nose brushed against Soubi's ear. He whispered, "Hold up your hair."
Over his left shoulder, Soubi cast a glance laced with silent inquiry, blue eyes alert, seeking his. Hesitation made him still - Kio gave a small nod, an even smaller smile, summoning all the patience he could muster to hold equally motionless. Seconds passed, measured only by the sound of their breathing until, at last, Soubi lifted his hands from where they rested in his lap.
Dark contours shifted against the night; Soubi let out a long sigh, and swept his hair up.
Kio could close his eyes, and his hands would still remember the moves that wound the fabric around Soubi's neck. He let the muscle memory guide him, straightening the creases as he went - signs of frequent use - slowly working his way through the end.
He did not need to see; he felt enough - the fabric between his fingertips, the tickling of the soft endings of Soubi's hair on his skin. A delicate fragrance of soap, a hint of cigarette smoke, and something else - a scent of the life Soubi lived when he walked alone.
He tucked the end of the bandage underneath the layers, but left his hand resting against Soubi's shoulder. His own body heat and Soubi's combined distracted him with thoughts he tried to will away, yet failed. Soubi had made himself clear... more often than necessary; he should have grown accustomed to it. He hadn't. Rejection always hurt the same.
Yet it did not stop him from wrapping his arm loosely around Soubi's neck - Kio barely swallowed a gasp when Soubi yielded, easily, and leaned back against his chest.
"Sou-chan?" he squirmed a little as Soubi laid his head against his cheek. "Don't tell me you're going to sleep like this."
Soubi pulled himself up a little. "Of course not," he said, and Kio winced with regret over a chance noticed too late.
He should have let go, but his arm stiffened to keep Soubi from leaving. He swung the other one and laced his fingers in a firm lock across Soubi's chest. His breath caught as he rose onto his knees; Kio balanced his weight against him, expecting Soubi to push him away, already thinking of the things he would say. He shuddered with dread for the cold night outside, cursing apologies and jokes and counterfeit smiles.
Just once, he mused, the frantic thought a loud echo around the corners of his mind. Just this once, Soubi, you could let me-
Soubi shifted against him, whispering, "All right."
Kio jumped, eyes wide, trying to pierce the dark veil between them. "What?" he almost choked on his tongue, the tangle of his hands that kept Soubi close forgotten. "What do you-"
What words he tried to speak, Soubi swallowed with a kiss. Kio froze. He could only watch Soubi turn and press lightly against him, his hand twisting in the hair at the nape of his neck.
He pulled away, panting - he should have remembered to breathe, but Soubi's lips on his had tossed balance and logic out of his reach. He fixed an intent, wide-eyed stare on Soubi's face, defeated by darkness that swept across his vision. He only managed to think that it didn't make sense before Soubi nuzzled the sensitive skin just below his ear-
Kio shoved him onto the bed with a hissed, "Don't play with me like this."
Soubi landed flat on his back, boneless, letting Kio shift on top of him and straddle his hips. "I'm not playing."
Do you have any idea how much I wanted this?
Eyes narrowed, chest laboring in and out with heaving, arrhythmic, breath, Kio caught his lower lip between his teeth. He planted heavy palms on Soubi's shoulders; his fingers dug into taut flesh, pushed him into the mattress.
"Then what do you think you're doing?" Kio asked, head spinning. He hooked his finger around the nosepiece of Soubi's glasses and yanked them off. "Checking how far you can go? This isn't funny, Soubi! You're teasing the hell out of me and then what, you'll knock me off the bed and tell me to go to sleep?"
Soubi's calm infuriated him. Kio felt his strong, warm hands on his waist, gently pushing him away, and huffed in disbelief. "That figures."
Soubi pulled his eyes from Kio's face. "You can have the bed."
Kio caught his hand to stop him before he moved any further and shivered - Soubi's fingers curled into a fist that trembled in his grasp. "I don't want it," he choked out half-whispered words. In the pale lamplight that stole its way inside through the open blinds, he saw small, raised hairs, goosebumps slithering up Soubi's bare arms. "It's hard to sleep when you're around."
Soubi quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"
Kio felt himself tense a little as he leaned into him, his nose touching Soubi's, breath mingled into one cloud between them. "'Cause you're a pervert," he murmured against Soubi's lips.
Soubi's lashes tickled Kio's cheeks as his eyes slid shut. "I'm not."
His slim silhouette slipped slowly away; Kio held his breath, but Soubi did not struggle. He did not push him away, either - he turned his eyes back to Kio and lowered himself onto the bed.
Kio swallowed thickly, eyes raking a long stare up the lithe form stretched beneath him. "Sure you're not."
The answering smile was inviting enough.
Soubi's eyelids gave the tiniest flutter at the first ghost of a touch of Kio's fingers, feathering against his ribs. His chest rose with a deep intake of air, soundless, the tensing of his muscles the only reaction Kio could perceive.
Suddenly, he felt inadequate to this, with his quivering hands, his shuddering breath. Soubi felt like damaged silk; smooth surface offended by thin, white lines of old scars. Kio's arms shook as he leaned over, hands splayed across the sheets on both sides of Soubi's shoulders. Slowly, he lowered his head for the first touch of moist lips to burning skin.
Lower still, propped on his elbows, Kio saw little beneath the veil of his tousled hair. Soubi's head rolled to the side, his eyes tightly shut. Kio dragged the tip of his tongue under his collarbone and heard Soubi swallow, felt the rage of shivers through his flesh.
I won't ask if you want this, he thought, turning his head to rest a hot cheek against Soubi's torso, above his heart. You always say all the wrong things.
He licked his lips, leaving them moist and warm, and pressed a kiss after slowly planted kiss along an invisible path leading down Soubi's left side. He shivered as his tongue caught the edge of a scar.
I wonder why.
He let his fingers wander slowly up his arm, and his heart leapt at the faint sensation of muscles trembling ever-so-lightly under his touch. The steady rhythm of Soubi's heartbeat altered in time, gaining speed and irregularity with the quickening of breath.
"Kio..."
His name, barely breathed through a sigh, made Kio's heart skip a beat. He laid gentle fingers upon Soubi's mouth.
Just feel this, he thought, but said only, "Don't talk."
Soubi shifted under him but Kio did not remove his hand - he started as Soubi's lips parted and he felt his hot breath escape between his fingertips. A flick of Soubi's tongue scorched his skin, white-hot flood of fire through long-starved flesh.
The towel slipped loose and fell from his hips. Kio shuddered as his bare skin brushed Soubi's navel, both hot and slick. He lifted his head - Soubi was looking at him, alert to the change, and Kio almost heard his second thoughts. His own had fled; he felt himself grow hard again and craved to feel Soubi's hands, his mouth, all of this man close around him and drive him over the edge.
He let his hair feather Soubi's torso instead, wet lips kissing their way down, down, until he caught Soubi's belt between his teeth and tugged. Soubi lifted his arms to grasp the headboard; Kio could not see his face, but he drowned in the thick sound of a sigh and shivered, then pulled at the belt again. Fingers fumbling to get rid of the obstacle Soubi's clothes put in his way, he distracted himself from his own growing arousal, biting small bits of Soubi's skin here and there.
These marks would fade, he thought, and this night would end. But he had later for such concerns.
He slid his hands under Soubi, lifting him a bit. The last piece of clothing came off; Kio kicked it to the floor with his foot, discarding his own towel all together along with it. He paused to look at Soubi again - beautiful, he thought, and tried not to remember that this flesh was marred by marks that bound him to someone else. The white veil above them shone, excess contrast to the swiveling of shadows across the walls - sparing him, hiding him, whispering of the secrets behind the thorns.
He imagined - too easily - a man who knew no pain, no restrictions, no guilt. That Soubi belonged to him. He had drifted off; Kio didn't want to know why, if he could guess where to. He moved up, skin on skin, and reached for one of Soubi's hands that gripped the wood above his head.
Finger after finger, his hold came undone.
"Come back," he said as he laid Soubi's palm, coated with his hand, against the back of his neck. It burned. "You're with me now."
Soubi's fingers tangled in his hair; no words came, no affirmations nor apologies of any kind. Kio covered the length of his body with his own, smaller form, capturing the heat between their skin, their breath between their lips.
Your words are needles dressed in flowers and silky butterflies.
Kio timed his breathing to ease the rapid pulse straining underneath his skin. But, Soubi, he mused as blunt fingernails grazed their way down and Soubi gasped- your body doesn't lie.
Braced on trembling arms, Kio rocked against him, flesh to flesh and blending heat. He ran one finger across Soubi's parted lips, gathering moisture - he brought it to one hardened nub, drawing feather-like circles around it. He traced sensual patterns around the other one with his tongue, tasting salt and something he imagined was Soubi's alone.
He moved against him, up and down in quickening rhythm - soon, his body and Soubi's met and countered each other's dry thrusts. Kio's hand drifted down, a caressing dance of soft fingertips but, when he took Soubi's cock, his bones shook and he tightened his grasp.
Soubi's sharp intake of breath, the jolt of hard flesh against his palm, swept his mind clear of the remaining doubt.
His other hand lingered, parting with Soubi's nipple only when Kio slid all the way down, urging Soubi's legs apart with his knee. He lay between his thighs, smiling at their quivering, at another gasp. Soubi gripped a fistful of his hair - Kio closed his eyes, his tongue slipping slowly past hot, swollen lips.
Mine, now.
Kio mapped his length with tiny kisses; they lingered as he traced abstract shapes on the delicate skin, wet lips closing around one spot here, another there. Soubi's back arched lightly off the mattress - Kio tasted precome on his slick tongue, teeth scratching ever so lightly as he took Soubi into his mouth.
Soubi bit back a cry; his knuckles had to be white, his other hand a clenched fist pressed to his lips to stifle the first moan. Kio slid him slowly inside, reminded himself to breathe, and relished every quiver, every next strangled, barely audible sound.
Heat coiled inside him, the wild pounding of his heart loud in his ears. He closed his mouth around Soubi, letting his taste and his scent fill him, letting Soubi feel him as he swiped his tongue around the swollen head.
Soubi's hips buckled and he stiffened; Kio barely refrained from pausing to yell at him to let himself go. He began to move instead, wet mouth sliding up and down his length. He laid a hot, sweaty palm against Soubi's stomach and savored the fierce trembling of muscles there.
Soubi pushed into him once, twice - soundless now, but his breath hitched with every thrust. Kio pulled himself higher, angling his head to take him deeper, humming a tuneless melody low in his throat. He felt Soubi's fingers wind through his hair, grasping, then letting go, clutching impulsively over and over again. He could almost feel something in him straining to escape, beyond the urgency of his physical need, as though he had triggered something Soubi had buried too deep.
He watched Soubi's back form a graceful arch and he thought, a second before Soubi's taste flooded his mouth, that he had never seen him so beautifully out of control.
It burned, hot and thick and the shuddering echoed through him as he swallowed. His own panting breath mingled with Soubi's strangled cry; Kio clamped his eyes shut and let himself collapse. He wrapped his arms around Soubi and held him until the tremors passed.
He lay still, melting in the heat, still tasting Soubi as he flicked his tongue across his lips. At length, he felt Soubi's hand drag through his damp, mussed hair.
Minutes passed before Kio forced himself to move, reaching down for the towel to wipe him clean.
"What about you?"
Soubi's voice startled him - a different sound, words frayed around the edges, bleeding into each other in the heat of his uneven breath. "I'm fine," he said. "Though, next time-"
"There won't be a-"
"There will be," Kio interrupted easily. He had seen it coming. He shifted his weight and crawled up, eyes leveled with Soubi's. "You need it," he said firmly.
Soubi's raised eyebrows - a puny attempt at indifference - failed, dissolved in the afterglow. His forehead glistened with tiny beads of sweat, the dim veil clouding the sapphire of his eyes, gone.
"I..."
...don't? Kio finished in his thoughts, bending to cover Soubi's red, swollen lips with his own. He let Soubi taste himself on his tongue; he had never believed the lies in his unspoken words.
April 19-24th, 2006