pslplz | Futureverse

Yukimura hisses in a breath when he feels Akaya's teeth dig into his neck, erotic pain that sends a shiver up his spine. Despite that pain, it causes the corner of his mouth to turn up in the barest hint of a smile. Fingers travel from Akaya's neck into thick curls of hair, this familiar mop of unruliness, to cradle Akaya's head against him with a gentleness that stands in stark contrast to the aggressive kissing and groping, the hard press of his body that traps him against the wall.

"You seem quite energetic. Akaya."

His teeth graze over his skin, a taste that’s all too familiar to Akaya, despite all the months he’s spent apart from him. He’s not sure if energetic is the word for what he’s feeling now as he pulls back just enough to narrow his eyes at that barely there smile.

What is he feeling right now? Hot. What else? Does Yukimura want to put a name to it? That’s probably not that wise.

“What are you trying to say?”

What is he trying to say? Does this have to be complicated? Yukimura sets his forehead against Akaya's.

" 'Hi.' "

Hi. Hi?? What the fuck.

Out of the blue, Yukimura pulls him off the street with the full expectation that Akaya would comply. He pushes back into his life, his space, making Akaya completely hot and bothered, and that’s his answer?

Akaya’s feelings are a mess right now. He’s not in the mood for tender hellos. But neither is he in the right mindset to start asking questions either, so he just stares back at him with mixed emotion, biting his lip.

Yukimura thinks that's probably about the best reaction he could hope for, all considered. He wanted to say something before it went so long that saying anything at all would be impossible, and because as tempting as it might be to take Akaya right there on the floor of the cab, in the end he really does still care that they aren't behind his apartment door yet.

In the end, he's going to have to bide his time a little before he properly reclaims what's his.

Either way, the words seem to have thrown Akaya off-balance. Yukimura shifts his angle and covers his mouth with another kiss that's no less insistent but that's turned the temperature down from the first. Something a little softer, a little slower. A little more romantic.

If he expected Yukimura to say something to ease his confusion, he probably should’ve known better. Akaya’s hands slide off of him to his sides as Yukimura kisses him again. His brow knits into a troubled frown, because it feels like he’s being pulled into some kind of game that he doesn’t know the rules to. But submitting his kiss bruised lips to him seems like the only thing he can do. Resisting would take conviction and clarity, and he has neither of those right now.

It's submission and surrender that meets him this time. It's not like Akaya when he's got his wits about him. That's by design. Akaya was coming too close to self-assertion, and Yukimura needs to feel in control right now-- over the reality he faces and over Akaya himself. Never mind that all Akaya was doing was answering Yukimura's own call of passion.

He explores this mouth he's visited so many times before, mingling their tongues with a calm control. His hands glide down and come to rest at Akaya's hips; Yukimura slides his forefingers through the belt loops of his pants, and his thumbs just brush against the skin under Akaya's shirt at the waist.

It's fine like this. Akaya doesn't need to do anything back. Just so long as he doesn't fight.

The kiss is slow, deliberate, controlled. There’s something about it that’s so characteristic, and it’s irritating. Why should Yukimura be so calm and composed when Akaya is so messed up on the inside? But somewhere in his heart he must know that it’s not really this way for Yukimura either. So he closes his eyes and sucks his breath back as he feels the subtle touch against his skin. He can have the control he wants so much. Maybe he needs it, more than Akaya does.

For the remainder of the ride, it's like this. Yukimura kisses him long and slow and deep. He holds him, filled with bittersweet nostalgia over this body he knows so intimately well even two years later. His hands eventually leave Akaya's hips and instead find those hands hanging loose by Akaya's sides to intertwine their fingers.

This should have been what made him feel better-- and it does, on the surface. Yet deep underneath, he knows something is wrong. For Akaya to just be standing there, not putting forth that spirit that is so unconquerable and uniquely his, something is deeply wrong, and Yukimura knows what it is. And underneath that calm, content exterior, it's fermenting into a well of frustration and grief and inescapable dread that he doesn't know what to do with. He clings to those fingers as though it might somehow keep Akaya from slipping away from him.

What's his name?

It's a question burning at the front of his mind and the tip of his tongue. It's a question he won't allow himself to ask. Not when it would give the whole game away.

Desire, he understands. Even if all those months ago, Yukimura ended things with him, it doesn’t change the obvious chemistry that still exists between them. Akaya also understands obsession, this dark and chaotic instinct that drive him to do irrational things (like get in the cab). But tenderness he finds confusing, because it radiates something more profound, a longing, a warmth. Love. So when Yukimura reaches for him and twines their fingers together, his breath hitches for a moment.

He can almost taste the bitter sadness in Yukimura’s kiss. Why should he feel this way? Isn’t this what Yukimura wanted? Akaya loved him more than anything, but it wasn’t enough for him. It pisses him off.

His fingers curl tightly around Yukimura’s as his breath falls hotly on his cheek.

It's too dangerous. Yukimura feels those fingers clinging right back like a whisper of hope that maybe it's not too late. Is that really a door he should try to open? He's well aware already that wanting Akaya to be indefinitely his like this-- without the commitment of being Akaya's back-- is utter chickenshit. What is he supposed to do, though? They don't work.

Why can't he let Akaya go, then? What is it you really want, Seiichi? In times like this, he envies Akaya for how sharply and directly he can ascertain what he wants and go after it, neither flinching nor looking back over his shoulder at what he left behind.

The cab comes to a stop and slides open its door to the building that Yukimura's penthouse crowns. It's a moment that comes too soon and not soon enough. Yukimura draws back from Akaya and steps halfway out before he hesitates, keeping himself in the doorway and blocking Akaya's exit. The cameras. He was so caught up in Akaya and his own thoughts he almost forgot about the throng of paparazzi that tend to camp out around here hoping for a glimpse of anything remotely suspect that can be photographed, picked apart, and marketed for rumor.

He thinks again of the kiss he saw, and he sees a chance. If the papers caught wind of this--

Yukimura banishes that dark thought immediately and turns back around to face Akaya. He sheds his windbreaker and holds it out for him to take.

"Cover yourself completely. I'll guide you in."

Edited 2020-11-22 12:44 (UTC)

The cab doors open. For a while, it felt like the ride would go on forever. When Yukimura first told him to get in, he complied without a thought. This time, as he looks at him holding out the windbreaker for him to take, he feels more in control. How many times before did they dodge the photogs, pulling on random disguises and giggling at each other’s appearance? Or get a stupid thrill out of getting away from them and stealing kisses ducked behind an empty alley?

There’s something more deliberate about his movements this time, as he reaches for the windbreaker and pulls it around himself. He gives him a conspiratorial grin.

Yukimura sees a little bit of Akaya's usual spark coming back. It makes him smile.

"They're more ravenous than usual-- because of that single. Be careful."

He pulls the brim of the cap down to hide his eyes and exits the vehicle, making a beeline for the elevators. There are flashes within seconds.

A couple of the drones fly in with an effort to get a better look at Akaya. Yukimura is very rueful in that moment that he doesn't have his racket and a few balls. If he'd known he'd be coming back with Akaya in tow... They'll just have to run for it this time.

"Closing in at 5 o'clock!" He warns, and makes a dash to the call button on the elevator. The door slides open.

Like reflexes, it all comes back. Akaya knows exactly which angle they like to come in from, and how to avoid being captured on camera. The media isn’t as crazy in his corner of the industry, but he’s seen enough of it both from his own experience and from when he was with Yukimura to know.

They get through the gauntlet and he makes a dash for it, slipping through just as the elevator doors slide shut behind them. The momentum propels him right into Yukimura. He grabs at his shirt and they slam against the wall of the elevator. He laughs, breathless from the sudden sprint.

Yukimura wasn't quite ready to be body-slammed, and he lets out a noise somewhere between a grunt and a gasp as Akaya collides with him. That laugh. That same laugh that started this whole detour into heartache when he heard it from the other side of the street. It sends a flutter through his stomach even now.

He wraps his arms around him. "You're as reckless as ever," he scolds, not unkindly. Without letting go, he shifts over to scan his retina and says to the computer, "35th floor."

Ever so slightly, the floor seems to dip as the acceleration begins.

“I got through it, didn’t I?” Akaya says, cocky as ever. You’ll see. All the photogs have captured would be a blur and the windbreaker. He wraps his arms around Yukimura’s waist as the elevator begins to move.

"Getting through isn't the part that makes you reckless." He doesn't wait for an answer. The best way to end with the last word is to follow it with a kiss.

It’s all the same. Momentum, it drives them forward just like this. Does Yukimura think they’ll run of steam in the end? Akaya never thought so. He has reserves he hasn’t begun to tap. Maybe that makes him reckless. He doesn’t care.

He presses his body flush against him and kisses him back, pulse still racing fast and cheeks flushed from the exercise.

They're still kissing when the chime sounds and the lift slows to a stop on the 35th floor, opening into the lobby outside Yukimura's home. He steers them out of the elevator car without letting go-- the only others with access to this floor were the small circle he'd approved, like Hokuto, and the authorities. He breaks the kiss to unlock the front door and let them spill into the genkan, where he takes off his shoes and hangs Sanada's hat on a hook.

"You have 20 seconds to get completely naked."

Yukimura doesn’t have to encourage him. But Akaya’s never one to back down from a challenge regardless. He’s already kicking off his shoes. The windbreaker is on the floor.

He starts backing up into the apartment, pulling off his jacket.

“You better start counting, then.”

"I'll do it in 10," is all he says back, whipping his t-shirt off his head and slinging it to wherever it may land. He's already working on his buckle and fly.

“Are you counting all this, too?” Akaya says, with a quick flash of his wrist. He’s got some bracelets and his necklace on, part of his typical casual look. He did say completely naked.

The jacket’s on the floor, followed quickly by his t-shirt. He pulls open his fly and steps back toward Yukimura, sliding his palm across his bare waist. If Akaya gets ten more seconds, he can afford a little detour.

Akaya might feel like he can spare a detour, but Yukimura cannot, which means ignoring that hand in favor of bending forward to push his jeans and underwear both down at once, losing his socks as he steps his feet out of the holes.

"Everything," he says back as he does. Honestly, he probably wouldn't have even thought twice about it if Akaya hadn't asked, but since he did and he seems to think he's got time to spare...

“You got it.”

Akaya might be impressed that Yukimura isn’t deterred in the slightest. He was always competitive as fuck. His hand slides down teasingly over Yukimura’s hip, across his abs and almost...but not quite lower before he steps back. He uses his teeth to loosen the leather buckle bracelet on his wrist, grinning.

Yukimura can almost hear Sanada telling Akaya he was going soft. Taking such a lackadaisical approach to the timed challenge-- he wasn't even going to try to match the 10-second limit Yukimura had imposed on himself? Yukimura would take it as an affront to his pride to have been given twice the time as though he needed a handicap.

It's doubly odd considering the bratty impatience he's showing to get to the fun part, those teasing touches that make Yukimura's eyes gleam with the desire to-- well. Why should he need to wait? The last touch for him is his wearable, a wristband with a magnet closure that separates with a good yank. He tosses it onto the coffee table and tackles Akaya to the floor before he can get out of his pants.

"Your undressing schedule may have hit a snag."

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