Zaizen & Akaya P2

[xyzai]

Who: Zaizen Hikaru and Kirihara Akaya
What: The second part of their adorable coming together log -- extremely long
When: Immediately after Part 1
Rating: PG-13 for gratuitous making out and very tame boys in the public bath


The train ride passed too quickly. Minutes flew because he needed them to stretch into enough minutes to get to Ueno and into his classroom. When Zaizen arrived at the stop, his classmate texted him that she had signed him in, so he walked at a normal pace and managed to slink into the back of the lecture hall. Thankfully it was not a practicum -- he would have embarrassed himself and it would have been entirely Akaya’s (but mostly his own) fault.

He pulled up his computer for notes, but the pull to iMessage was too strong in his hormone-addled brain. The ache in his face reminded him that expressions still kind of hurt. So Zaizen did the opposite of the smart thing and messaged Akaya, Safe. A classmate signed me in.

The muted 'ding’ on his phone made Akaya shrink back in his seat and cast a glance around the room - the girl next to him raised an eyebrow, still looking forward, but otherwise no one had noticed. Bringing his phone up behind the guard of his open textbook, the message made him blink and smile unconsciously.

lol did u have to sneak in? I was here literally right on time

Zaizen typed on his notes side of the screen until he saw the three dots that meant Akaya was also typing. He finished up his sentence and eyed the professor, who faced the board as she wrote out the series of notes she was discussing.

Despite his S personality, he was glad to not have actually made Akaya late. I used my lizard skills to slither under the door and crawl up into a seat in the back.

usin your powers for evil, Akaya replied, keeping an eye and ear on the drone of the lecturer. Important lines were highlighted in his textbook, single-word reminders jotted in the margins. hope nothin important got missed.

Humming the notes on the board in his head, Zaizen copied them digitally and, next to an arrow, wrote a few associations. It had been so worth getting that music writing software onto his computer.

Using them for anything else would be boring. There’s no famous lizard man for a reason, Zaizen sent. I only missed her playing the song -- but it’s in the syllabus. Listened to it on the train.

Akaya tried to focus on the lesson, but even though he found political history mildly interesting his lecturer’s voice was monotonous and his attention predictably wandered. Pretty sure theres a supervillain lizard but idk his name. Which sort of proved the point, actually. There was a brief pause before the next message as his professor called on questions. play me the song later?

By now Zaizen had mastered the art of selective listening; for the most part he worked studiously on the engaging lecture material, but it didn’t take much for him to type out a reply to Akaya.

Spider-Man’s villain. Being webbed to New York skyscrapers is not my kink so I retired, no offense to him.

Plus, he imagined it would be chilly up there.

Sure, Zaizen agreed. What country are you in?

With a hand over his mouth, Akaya sunk lower in his seat to hide his laugh. The girl next to him tapped her nail on the table irritably. we have mentioned before that I’m not afraid to kinkshame you so like, good call, he sent back, ignoring her. nice. China right now... i think?

If I have to be webbed to something I will accept nothing less than Big Ben [emoji] or the Eiffel Tower[emoji]. Kinkshame all you want but I am a highly selective evil lizard thank you very much.

The last message had Zaizen smirking a little and giving his head the slightest shake. You think? I had better stop texting you, then. Focus on saving China, Mulan.

If I run into spiderman ill let him know then, Akaya tapped. selective lizard villain who uses his powers to sneak into college music classes. Sooo scary.

He was halfway through another message when he heard his name called - startled, he sent the nah its fine nothiglkh; and nothing else until a few minutes later. i got called on but the question was actually something i wrote down but anyway I’ll txt you later ok, and after a small delay, heart[emoji].

Zaizen bit his lip; what kind of maniac actually smiled in class? But visualizing how Akaya was surely startled in the middle of a message did the trick. He thought about teasing him, and he was going to, and yet he couldn’t follow through after receiving that last message.

Akaya really wasn’t the best multitasker. Best to let him focus and to laser his own concentration on class and decidedly away from how close Akaya had been to his face only a little more than an hour ago.

Being able to zone back into the class was definitely the best thing to have happen, as the lecturer signed off with the promise of an online test sometime over the weekend. Akaya’s notes were scattered, but readable… sort of. The train to Shibuya wasn’t that busy during the middle of the day and he ended up at the chocolate store earlier than anticipated.

He had forgotten about the last emoji. Somewhat nauseated by his own sappiness, he had half a mind to delete it, but ultimately decided not to. they have strawberry pistachio truffle things, he wrote instead, surveying the cabinets and noting the sale prices. Wanna try those.

Zaizen was holed up in a practice room with his cello when a message from Akaya popped up over his iTunes. Normally he would ignore messages from his practice hours but. Maybe. An exception.

For chocolate, not for Akaya. Looking at the heart message followed as chocolate Zaizen supposed that it was a little bit for Akaya.

As a reply he sent a strawberry emoji followed by a green heart for pistachio. Smirking in the privacy of his room, he then set up a blank snap for Akaya with himself playing the Spider-Man theme song on his cello.

The pair of emojis brought a tiny smile to Akaya’s face as he stared at it for a moment before smacking himself with the back of his phone. Was was he, a thirteen year old girl? Despite trying to tame his emotions to a neutral status, his reply sent the two same icons back, along with green tea, chocolate and a question mark implying a mystery. Assorted fruit creams had been on sale, so it was perfectly logical to buy a few, right.

The video had him pausing just outside the train station, trying not to burst out laughing in public. He took a quick video of the scramble crossing in reply, following it with sounds like a funeral march like that.

You’ll need a funeral march if you keep snapping and crossing, Zaizen scolded in the caption of his resting bitch face. As he locked his cello into the storage room he wondered about the mystery chocolate and wondered at how Akaya had actually gone to the specialty shop in Shibuya to fulfill his request.

There weren’t any butterflies in his stomach. He was just hungry. That was all.

Coconut? Mochi? he guessed in the text message. White choco?
Akaya snickered as he got on the train, sending a :( at the disapproving reaction. The guesses had him smiling anew, though, a few X emojis appearing after each one.

ok maybe actually there could be coconut, he amended reasonably. its a mix. On sale so i got a bunch.

Ridiculous. He didn’t encourage the frowny face, but the barrage of Xs that followed had him rolling his eyes outside of his practicum classroom. Trying to act like I didn’t get it on the first try, Akaya. I see how it is.

But yum. Coconut. For effect, he added a coconut emoji. I guess there will be enough for you to have some too, then.

i mean its more than coconut tho, Akaya replied. Grinning like an idiot on the train, anyone looking would think he’d lost it. Maybe he had, a little. There’s like five flavours here or something :? Idk what they all are.

He took a photo inside the bag, where the matcha cream and two of the strawberry truffles were visible, along with the multicoloured pack of fruit creams.

Well now the onigiri in my bag looks straight up sad, thanks for that, Zaizen texted, quite truthfully. The salmon rice ball would have to told him over for a delicious dinner of fine department store chocolate. Going into practical lesson -- message you after.

He tucked his phone away into his pocket while settling down against the koto and putting his finger picks on one by one. Following the lesson, Akaya received a picture of his fingers wearing the long little hats required to play. The caption read Villain costume at 20%.

It takes some time for Akaya to reply, having been starting his training session as the message came in. So about an hour later, on a water break - you need a high neck jacket. with tails. and your hair slicked back, he suggested. Snakeskin print.

Excuse you I would never wear my hair slicked back, Zaizen stopped in the grocery store to text, as if that were the most objectionable part of the entire outfit. At the store. Want anything for tonight?

He didn’t wait for a text to put a small container of Akaya’s favorite sushi in the basket, followed by a few more rolls, hard boiled eggs, and ingredients for a salad.

You've gotta meet a villain standard tho, Akaya snickered as he responded. One of the other guys practicing glanced at him oddly. but i cant imagine you with hair like that.

He blinked at the question, having just assumed he would pick up quick dinner for himself on the way over since it was going to be late. tea, he finally decided on. rest is up to you?

Like I would be any kind of cookie cutter villain anyway, Zaizen texted his protest. I could rock a Mohawk. And maybe a skull tattoo/septum pierce.

Remembering that Akaya was at practice, he decided to also pick up a few skewers of yakitori along with a tea they both liked. Some pineapple slices were on sale, so he tucked those away into the basket as well.

Zaizen’s description sounded more like a punk than a comic book villain, though Akaya reasoned a lot of villains were just exaggerated cultural types. And Zaizen was right, he wouldn’t be cookie cutter. A skull and wings. On your back, he typed. lol should i give you a mohawk while youre asleep?

The sound of his coach calling him over reminded him that his break was only short. gotta focus. Tell you when im on the way over, ok? His thumb hovered over the heart emoji again. Instead he sent the strawberry and green heart once more, a compromise.

Zaizen had enough time to text Don’t. You. Dare before receiving the next message, complete with strawberry matcha hearts. So he pocketed his phone even as he imagined what that series of tattoos and piercings would look like. It made him snort at a few Pinterest pages in line to pay for groceries.

When he got home he may or may not have constructed another playlist for their evening while combining the few ingredients for salad with the rest of dinner.

Training was hard. The weeks before an Open always were, and Akaya’s coach was not exactly pleased about him skipping the Masters tournaments before Roland Garros. But he’d gotten used to it over time, and there was extra motivation to not lose energy today in particular.

Offered a taxi share back to his apartment, Akaya turned it down in favour of the longer train ride out to Mikiya. Im finally free, he messaged with a bird emoji added. sooo hungry. So close to eatin all this choco.

Don’t. You. Dare. Zaizen typed out again, fearing for his chocolate. I have slaved over carrying food home home and cleaning a hard boiled egg.

relax it wouldnt actually make me less hungry anyway, Akaya confirmed. You cooked an egg? Did you collapse from it being too hard?. The joke was half playing along and half shielded surprise. The window of the train rang out with a patter of rain - great, he didn’t pack an umbrella.

for your information I was revived by a squadron of attendants with fans Zaizen texted, and then picked up the salmon roe sushi pieces and held the clear take out box out the window. The caption on the picture read: I will drop them.

But he didn’t. He withdrew his arm for the few water droplets. Zaizen’s near perfect memory supplied him with the image of Akaya leaving without an umbrella. With a sigh, he shuffled on his shoes and picked up his own clear umbrella on the way out the door.

Akaya smirked at the idea of other Mikiya residents coming to a passed-out Zaizen’s rescue. maybe you gotta work up to a task like that, he wrote. About ten minutes left - the rain wasn’t hammering, but heavy enough to probably soak him through on the walk. But he wasn’t going to mention it. be there in ten.

Good thing that Zaizen would be there in five. The rain struck his umbrella uselessly, only managing to wet his boots as he made his way to the station.

I live on the edge he replied, and found a nice spot to wait by the check out gates at Nishi-Kawaguchi.

like my sushi :(. Akaya waited the last of the trip out, a small towel out of his bag as a rain deterrent. The doors opened, the bustle of the station and smell of petrichor distracting. He avoids knocking a poor high schooler over with his sports bag as he navigates to the exit.

Water pooled at the edges of the sheltered area, the sky dark and streetlights reflecting blindingly through the rain. Akaya almost walked right past Zaizen when he exited the station, towel thrown over his head, but something drew his eye just in time. Paralyzing warmth blossomed in his chest, pinning him wide-eyed for a second before he backtracked enough to walk over. “Uhm,” he said eloquently.

Zaizen raised his brows. When Akaya managed to back up and about face, he held the umbrella slightly out, such that it shielded both of them.

“When I said it was your turn to be in the rain next time, I didn’t mean today,” he explained, amusement and a little bit of embarrassment painted across the particular curl of his lips. “So this doesn’t get you out of anything.”

Stepping close out of the rain and in reach of the personal shelter provided, Akaya could only blink and nod. It was such a small thing, overall, but the thoughtfulness behind coming to meet him sent his heart fluttering. It was tempting to lean down and kiss Zaizen then and there, but he managed to refrain by smacking himself with the back of his phone again and pressing their sides together.

“Y’didn’t have to come,” he said finally. His tone was soft and not accusatory like those words could be. “I would've been fine walking.”

“You didn’t have to hit yourself with your phone,” Zaizen said, more matter of fact than at all concerned. He greeted the warmth of Akaya’s side on him with a friendly return pressure and slipped his umbrella arm forward to shield them more completely. “And you would have, but…” he peered up at Akaya, head tilted just enough to show that he was still wearing his earrings from the night before. “This is better, right?”

“...s’posed to ignore that,” Akaya muttered. As Zaizen leaned back into him, Akaya slid an arm over his shoulders, coming to a comfortable walking position. The piercings caught the light from the fluorescent lamp above them - he chewed the corner of his mouth to tame the silly little grin that threatened to appear.

Before they set off, he glanced around - even though no one was paying them any mind, he played it safe and just used the hand already over his friend to draw back enough to press his fingers briefly to his cheek. An echo of their goodbye this morning. “Yeah. Thanks for coming.”

Since Akaya didn’t really expect Zaizen to ignore things that happened right in front of his face, he focused on the warm impression of that arm curled around him. Even the fingers gently brushing his cheek offered heat somehow, having hidden it away where the rain seemed to leech all of Zaizen’s.

Maybe that touch felt warm for a different reason? The thanks definitely made Zaizen’s face grow warm against Akaya’s fingertips, so much so that the kind words earned Akaya a huff and lukewarm glare. “Like it’s even far…” he mumbled. “I didn’t want the chocolate to get wet.” A dumb excuse, as it quite clearly came in a protective container.

Akaya laughed, moving them forward slightly. No use standing in the rain. And he was hungry. “Sure,” he replied easily to the prickly reaction. “Let's go, then. I'm starvin’.” It was around eight and he hadn't eaten since before practice. The chocolate was tucked away safe within the side pocket of his sports bag, but he didn't point that out.

The rain pattered along their walk, a short distance, not far like Zaizen had already mentioned. Mikiya was kind of nice, Akaya thought. Visiting always felt good, very different from his own place. “Kitchen or yours?” He asked when the building came into sight.

Zaizen nodded with Akaya’s laugh, equally eager to brush past acknowledgement and onto the walking part of this train station adventure. He walked quietly at Akaya’s side, content with the companionship and musical patter of the rain until they came to Mikiya’s small lobby.

“Mine,” he said, slipping out from Akaya’s arm to shuffle off his shoes and close his umbrella. He left it in the basket there to dry. “There wasn’t much actual cooking involved, beyond the egg fiasco.”

That. And somehow he didn’t feel like sharing his time or Akaya’s.

“Was it like, actually a fiasco?” Akaya asked, following suit with his shoes and shaking out the few clinging droplets in his bangs that had lodged themselves there before the cover of Zaizen’s umbrella. The towel he had originally prepared hung loosely around his neck, but was shoved back into his bag before he headed in the direction of Zaizen’s room. His shoulders were starting to ache a little from training. “What did you make with egg, anyway?”

“I got shell under my nail,” Zaizen explained the entire egg fiasco as he unlocked the door to his room. “A little piece. You should have seen it.”

His space was much smaller than Akaya’s, approximately two-Zaizen by one-and-a-half Zaizen (or as accurately determined on move in, two Hikaru’s by one Hayato). The elevated platform of wood in the corner was home to his futon and veritable mountain of stylish winter blankets. Every bit of wall on the way to his desk contained either some instrument or storage for jewelry or clothing items. The usual keyboard keyboard and piano keyboard on his desk had been pushed away, and it was clear why when he ducked into his mini fridge to pull out the salad, sushi, and yakitori.

“In here,” he tipped the salad bowl to show the fresh greens, carrots, and chopped hardboiled egg. “Do you want yakitori in the salad, or just on the skewer?”

It wasn’t the first time Akaya had visited Zaizen in his little abode, but every time it amazed him how much Stuff he managed to fit in the room. The clear space on the desk was the strangest addition to the room, and it only startled him further upon discovering it was his dining space. He gestured at Zaizen, asking if it was okay to sit, tentatively taking the desk chair when his stomach cried out in protest.

“On the skewer, I’m not some kinda weirdo who takes it off,” he said with a snicker, patting his middle placatingly. “Thanks. How did you manage to rescue your nail?” The sushi called to him first, so he reached to take it.

“You’re some kind of weirdo, though,” Zaizen amended as his chopsticks pushed egg and salad into two bowls while Akaya got started on the sushi he had so precariously dangled from the window. The salad was divided equally, but the bowl placed in front of Akaya had three yakitori skewers draped across to Zaizen’s one. After swiping one of the plain tuna rolls he had picked up to share, he dragged a stool out from a hidden corner to sit reasonably close.

Prodding at his salad to mix the egg a bit better, he said, “I managed to get the egg out with a toothpick. An ordeal.”

With the food in front of him it was impossible to wait. With a quick ‘thanks for the food’, Akaya wolfed down two of the salmon roe rolls before the salad had even finished being split up. Zaizen got a shrug and flat look at his return insult - he could accept that in some degree, but people who took their yakitori off the skewer were a different level. He made an appreciative sound through eating at the rest of the meal.

A short pause gave him time to ask “Which finger?” before he was back into the meal, completely ravenous now that he’d started eating. Managing to remember to pace himself at least a little, the third piece of sushi prompted a break, leaning back already feeling better.

As per usual, Akaya was a human vacuum. This time Zaizen was hungry enough to almost keep up, getting halfway through his salad by the time Akaya reached out with a question. It was tempting to just flip him the bird, but after chewing his mouthful, he found himself holding up his pointer instead.

“This one,” Zaizen said, deciding to poke Akaya on the thigh with it.

Having completely expected to be shown a middle finger anyway, Akaya almost spilled lettuce down his front as he picked up the salad just as Zaizen jabbed him in the leg. “Ow. Guess it made a full recovery,” he said, not actually looking like that had hurt him at all. One skewer of chicken practically vanished from existence as soon as he so much as looked at it.

The rest of the meal disappeared in relative silence. Upon finishing the last piece of hard-fought (on Zaizen’s part) egg, Akaya slumped in the chair with a pleased expression, looking up at the ceiling. “So good. Needed that.”

As if demonstrating the potential of his pointer, Zaizen flexed the musical finger and used it to swipe a few more rolls over to his salad bowl. But that was as much as he could handle. He depleted his food down to a few leaves of salad by the time Akaya was done, and said flatly, “You’re a demon.” After prodding the food-contented Akaya with his foot, he offered, “Finish the rest of my rolls. Not worth having two left over.”

Not going to argue with that offer, Akaya flashed his (rather demonic) teeth and managed to polish off the two remaining tuna rolls. Unlike Zaizen, he didn’t food coma - more like a food catnap, just a moment of full paralysis before stretching in the chair, also rather like a cat. “Baths still open?” He asked. The quick shower after training had freshened him up but the idea of a good soak had stuck in his mind, even though today’s practice hadn’t been particularly long. “M’gonna need to borrow some shampoo, though, I forgot my travel bottle.” And he needed to brush his teeth before any of that.

Amused by the show of teeth and diabolical prowess, Zaizen relaxed on the stool, reclined such that his palms rested on the wooden futon platform. While Akaya snoozed, he considered taking a picture, and then considered it some more until it was clear that he had no intention of moving either and was just openly staring.

The question prompted him to tip his head in the direction of his speaker and clock. “For another forty minutes, yes,” Zaizen answered. “The caddy is in my closet, but I can bring that down,” he stole an indulgent stretch and stood to fetch both his shower caddy and a pair lounge clothes. “Anything else that you need? Not that my stuff will fit you well.”

Zaizen's staring was allowed without protest. Akaya, contented with the meal and mood, even smiled vaguely back. 40 minutes sounded like just enough, so he rose with a roll of his neck, grabbing his remaining dry towel and sleepwear from his bag.

“... you're comin’ too?” Kind of a silly question when it was that obvious. No complaints either way, of course. Akaya came to a rest with his chin on Zaizen's shoulder again, peering into the shower caddy. “Think we're good. I can just put these on,” he answered, holding his sleepwear up.

The lounge clothes went into the empty part of the shower caddy, and he preemptively started to remove his earrings, carefully and one at a time into their designated plate for washing.

“I can’t let an unsupervised demon roam the baths. I’m technically responsible,” Zaizen expressed this very real problem as he tipped his head back onto Akaya’s shoulder and sighed. “What if you ate someone?”

“I ain’t gonna eat anyone,” Akaya said with a dig into Zaizen's shoulder using his chin. Though he wanted to move to the bath, it was difficult when comfortable right here. His eyes closed for a second, breathing even and appreciating Zaizen's slight weight leaning back. Then, flash-fast, he turned his head to give his friend's jaw a peck, sneaking away to grab his toothbrush and opening the door. “Let's go, then.”

With a huff that resembled a laugh, Zaizen relaxed comfortably on Akaya and shot back, “Fine, fine. What if you kinkshamed someone? Mikiya is an accepting community and I would be pretty embarrassed.”

The speedy push of lips against the line of his jaw made the uptilt from his laugh linger, sticking into a smirk. “I saw that, Akaya,” he accused, as if the tennis player had intended to sneak that kiss by him. Or perhaps he was knowingly referring to the toothbrush in Akaya’s hand. His own arsenal at his side in the form of the caddy, he confirmed that his key still resided in-pocket and obligingly led the way out of the room and down to the MIkiya baths.

Already halfway out into the hall, Akaya leaned his head back in to comment. “My kinkshaming is saved for online only,” he played along, tilting his head innocently at the not-quite-accusation Zaizen followed that with.

As planned, the sink was the first stop when they reached the washrooms. Dinner had been good but it wasn’t the kind of food that should linger, so a thorough toothbrushing was needed. That done, he got to pre-bath rituals of stripping and splashing himself down, the little plastic seat already feeling like a sanctuary in the warmth. There wasn’t anyone else in the bath right now - he reasoned it was probably a bit late. “Hikaru, shampoo,” he called, making a vague grabby motion in the air.

After a shake of his head, Zaizen let that reply hang and decorate the air between them, keeping it relaxed and goofy even as they undressed and wet about washing the worst of the day away. He tucked away his dry clothes in a cubby and joined Akaya in the tooth brushing and, as he gargled some mouthwash, applied cleaner-dense cotton balls to his pierced ears. The routine didn’t take him long at all -- and following it led him to the stool next to Akaya. He had washed himself quickly enough, and was letting the conditioner set when his companion requested what was quite literally next to him.

Idiot, Zaizen thought fondly.

Instead of putting it in that snatchy hand, he stood and sauntered a few paces to press the bottle against Akaya’s cheek, “You made me come all the way over here -- want me to wash it, too?” Zaizen neglected to mention that he had stood up at all because he kind of wanted to; Akaya’s hair was different, still inky and tempting even weighed down by water.

Akaya made an odd squawking noise as the bottle met his face, more out of protest than surprise. He hadn’t even realised that all of Zaizen’s bath gear had been basically within reaching distance, though even if he had he would have asked anyway out of politeness (if you can call demanding and air gestures polite). Shoving the bottle away and tilting his head back, he blinked upside-down at Zaizen through his damp fringe. A curl to the side of his head resisted the water and won, popping up almost comically.

“...yes,” he concluded after a moment of hesitation, more out of childish resistance to help rather than embarrassment. “Since you came aaall the way over here. Y’know, like, three feet.” Another bucket of clean water rested by his seat, and he nudged it with a toe to show it was there.

Zaizen smirked at that upside-down blink and smoothed his thumb and index along that rebellious curl. “An entire three feet. That’s more than half of you,” he reminded.

Once his fingers had traveled the length of that strand, he reached for the bucket to get him a bit wetter. “Keep your head like that — but eyes closed.”

A frown accompanied a decidedly stupid thought about why his eyes needed to be closed - Akaya eventually remembered that vision and shampoo do not mix very well. With an "oh" of realisation and loosening roll of his shoulders, he shut them obediently.

"Guess if you word it like that it sounds like an effort," he belatedly muttered. It had been months since he’d been able to have a quiet soak and years since anyone else had washed his hair. Maybe it would feel cleaner with Zaizen’s meticulousness taking care of it. Plus he didn't have to expend any of his own energy.

With amusement, Zaizen repeated, “Oh,” and poured the water over the back of Akaya’s head, cupping his forehead to prevent water-over-face. The few passes his curled fingers made through Akaya’s locks afterward were all luxury and no function. It satisfied him enough to drop the matter of his effort and pick up the bottle of shampoo. He then worked the peppermint shampoo to a lather between his fingers, waiting until he had some bubble to start working it through Akaya’s locks at the pace of a massage. It was for hair with a lot of volume, but one night would do Akaya’s silky curls no harm.

And, this way, he could stare-hou-dai without the tennis player putting up a self-conscious fuss. Win-win.

Water coursing through his hair at this angle and with someone else looking after the task did, for some reason, feel a lot better. Akaya kept his eyelids closed, neck loose to tilt with only minor prompting. Occasionally a pleased hum let itself out from the back of his throat, but he paid them no mind; it was relaxing and comfortable to just sit and enjoy the touch and smells. He almost forgot where he was.

“Feels good,” he murmured, neck lolling to press his head into one of Zaizen’s hands more firmly. “Smells like candy canes.”

“You’re a candy cane,” Zaizen said immediately, too preoccupied to come up with a half decent or original insult. He watched the hypnotic rise and fall of Akaya’s chest, listened to the contented sounds echoing ever so slightly through the larger bathroom, and, when gravitated toward, his fingers offered a reward of dexterous, interested pressure. His thumbs made little circles, all but cradling the back of Akaya’s head as his other edge of his hand smoothed suds along his ears.

It was tempting to trace the lines of Akaya’s nose, to lean closer and wonder how those long eyelashes would look in photograph or feel against his cheek, but instead Zaizen muttered, “Good. It’s supposed to.” He scrubbed lower toward Akaya’s nape at a gentle scratch, but conscientiously pushed his fingers back up through sudsy curls before reaching the danger zone. His knees on a stool to get height leverage on Akaya, Zaizen surrendered it to whisper in his ear, “I could totally put your hair in soap pigtails.”

Even in his semi-sedated state, Akaya found enough energy to chuckle at the rather sad excuse for a jibe. The imagery was good, though. “Not enough stripes,” he said, words undefined and slipping a bit as Zaizen found a pressure point near the base of his skull. His own hands shifted where they rested on his thighs, the attention driving impulse to them with his instinct to react and reciprocate. The rest of him smartly refused to move, though.

Close words caused those eyelashes to flutter - thankfully the careful movements Zaizen had been using meant that no soap had encroached lower than brow-level. Green opening to half-lidded, Akaya’s head purposefully tilted back against the press and guidance to look at his partner with a false frown and telltale quirk to one side of his mouth. “Revenge for the mohawk thing? You can do it if you want.” It wasn’t like it would be permanent, and Akaya doubted his hair was long enough for the style to hold without support anyway.

Zaizen huffed in response, hands bunching in Akaya’s hair higher and higher as his subject leaned back, until eventually soapy fingertips came to rest at his hairline. He tapped them ever so lightly, a sign that Akaya’s expression had captivated and stalled Zaizen there for a moment or ten. Something about stupid eyelashes, warm eyes, and the rudest little false frown had him pinned and looking.

“...I guess a mohawk suits me and pigtails suit you,” Zaizen’s Osaka drawl crawled along Akaya’s neck. His fingers, too, crawled back along the curve of his head, parting bubbled curls down the middle to tease into what more resembled spikes on each side. “I don’t have my camera…” he complained, sounding almost sullen.

Akaya's lids flickered and reopened, watching Zaizen back with an absent sort of intrigue. Too relaxed and languid to take any embarrassment from the lengthy gaze, his frown softened with slow blinks. The light brushes of Zaizen's fingertips and his stunned expression were... very nice. The pause was a moment to appreciate them properly.

Movement started again, prompting his neck to curve forward again just a little to accommodate the manipulation of his curls. A contemplative hum was all he could really manage, the delicate digits weaving a web of ease that curled down his spine. It was different to being tired, this kind of pure comfort. "Nah," he said, fully aware that his 'pigtails' were more like ram horns in this state. "I'd look good with a mohawk too. Next time you can bring your camera."

With Akaya’s light hums to bounce all over the room, he was somewhat glad that he hadn’t brought his phone. He would have had a picture, but lost the noises that bubbled up delicately here and there to accentuate their slice of indulgence.

He backed up to survey his handiwork and couldn’t fight the twist of a grin pulling on his own features. “Are you inviting me to take bath pictures of you, Akaya?” Zaizen picked up the hose and sharpened his smirk a bit as it dangled from his hand. “That’s very bold.”

And suddenly a pause of a totally different mood filled the air. "Eh?" Akaya questioned. He thought back to any implication he could have made of the sort, and slowly went red. The colour weaved down his face and collar, pinking his shoulders and the top of his chest. "That's not what- you were complaining!" He insisted, turning to a quarter-angle to affix Zaizen with a deeply scandalised expression. It dropped to one of embarrassment as another piece clicked into place. "'N don't act like that's not what you were suggesting in the first place-!!" He twisted away again, the threat of the hose and lattice of blush across his skin bringing him to hide.

Maybe it was the pigtail soap horns. Maybe it was the indignance. Maybe it was the bright pink color conquering Akaya’s fine skin, or the stuttering. Most likely it was a combination of those things that had Zaizen’s smirk first bunching into a grimace.

He bit his lip in delirious panic and looked away. His shoulders lurched with the effort to contain the uncontainable. Another stolen peek at the utterly horrified Akaya broke Zaizen into peals of laughter, accentuated with and soon to be taken over by high-pitched hiccups.

The first note of Zaizen's giggles echoed around the tiled room. Akaya's warm ears pricked up at the sound and he turned back to take in the usually prickly boy's collapse into broken giggles. Shock gave way to surprise and then the giggles became infectious, splitting Akaya's flushed face into a ridiculous grin. His elbows dropped to his knees, hands coming up to cover his face as he laughed along. The bath amplified their voices, only fuelling more.

But Akaya's fit ended before Zaizen's hiccups subsided. He lifted his head, still grinning despite himself, reaching out and knitting his fingers through Zaizen's damp hair to give him some kind of anchor. "Don't die this time," he said, fond amusement still in his voice.

Watching Akaya’s stupid grin, quelling his laughter, and breathing were highly incompatible. Zaizen’s embarrassing giggles persisted, ringing through the camber despite his best efforts and striking anew with squeaky hiccups whenever he locked onto his soapy haired companion. “You --” he gasped, then his shoulders jolted with another breathless chirp. He leaned forward to muffle the hiccup and press his desperately red face against Akaya’s shoulder. Akaya’s back was sturdy beneath Zaizen’s uselessly clutching fingers. “...Look ridiculous. Soap in your hair.”

Not that he didn’t also look ridiculous, curling up to Akaya and attempting to focus on the path of fingertips through his hair. Zaizen started to breath again, slowly as the fond contact soothed the hilarity wrecking his nerves. It was warm and unfair, that superpower, and he didn’t want to be anywhere else. Another hiccup broke the silence. “I’ll haunt you,” he panted.

Arms curled around Zaizen as he went into recovery mode, soothing motions stroked through his locks in similar patterns to the ones he himself favoured. Akaya tried very hard to not laugh again, the scrabbling hands against his bare back and breathlessness of Zaizen's voice both endearing and fascinating. It would not let the redness fade from his skin.

Reaching up to scrape the offending shampoo from the sides of his head as not to trigger any further reaction, Akaya leaned his cheek against his companion’s temple for a moment before shifting back to look down at him. “If you're gonna haunt me, can your first ghost task be finishing my hair, then?” He teased, still supporting Zaizen until he was capable of moving.

Akaya’s body heat together with the warm bath chamber kept his pale features pink even as the patient petting and steady rise and fall beneath his hands steered his breathing toward something that resembled normal. As Zaizen fought off the trembling and the disruptive squeaks that liked to catch and carry on the air, his arms found their way around Akaya. It was strange, having no clothing to latch on to, but he found that his hands molded more nicely to Akaya’s side without the shirt.

“You don’t assign tasks to ghosts, Akaya,” Zaizen complained, voice beaten to a hoarse mess by the ordeal. He shifted back just enough to pair a (wet, flushed, and short of breath) stern look with his grievance. “That’s not how haunting works.”

With Zaizen's arms solidly around his middle, Akaya could feel the resistance the other man was putting up to restrain the last convulsions of his laughing fit. The tiny shifts of muscle tickled a little on his skin. The damp in the air wasn't helping, rivulets of water from his hair mingling with condensation and dripping into the crevices where their points of contact met. Zaizen's breath regulated and Akaya didn't draw back. Just in case.

“Alright, haunting expert,” he replied with a smirk and raised eyebrow. “Can I assign tasks to alive Hikarus, then? Pretty sure you ain't dead if you got time to sass at me.” Zaizen's expression and raspy voice were a combination that seemed like too much to take in at once, so Akaya closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together. Shampoo lather crackled in protest. “Gonna run out of time if you just stay here like this.”

“Alive Hikarus don’t accept tasks either, but may offer favors entirely at their own will and discretion,” Zaizen said, as sassing Akaya further took precedence over just about everything else. Although Akaya was right, the lingering moment of conspiring and tasting Akaya’s breath with every inhale failed to convince him to do anything about it. His thumbs drew comfortable circles on Akaya’s side and mumbled, “I’ll get fucking Casper to break the clock.”

Unfortunately, however, this solution was not realistic. He opened his eyes, studied the features so close to his, and inhaled a shuddering breath. It was so tempting to kiss Akaya right here and now, where anyone could walk in. But as they would have all night following a nice soak, he found himself reaching for the hose again. “Keep them closed…” Zaizen all but whispered.

“Thought you just said you couldn't give tasks to ghosts,” Akaya chided, but his tone was warm with understanding the meaning behind the statement. “And watch your fuckin’ language.”

But thinking along the same lines, Akaya figured it would be nicer to be this close in the dry and fresh comfort of post-bath relaxation in the room upstairs than here where it was damp and soap kept popping in his ears. As Zaizen's embrace left him, he leaned away instinctively, straightening his back while remaining in easy reach. Following the request, his eyes remained shut. “Mmkay,” he muttered, equally hushed.

Shifting for optimal hose-hair reach, Zaizen drawled to Akaya’s back, “I don’t assign tasks, I give orders.”

That was all the warning Akaya received before a hand gently cupped his forehead to protect him from the soapy trail that ensued when his other hand preoccupied itself with rinsing the bubbles. When the bulk of the suds were gone, Zaizen’s fingers thoroughly coaxed the remainder out from Akaya’s roots. “It was in a little too long,” he huffed, resolving to add an extra squirt of conditioner for that reason. He put down the hose and worked the scent matched conditioner through the ends and climbing. “So let’s leave this in for a bit and soak.”

The spray over his crown cut off whatever stupid response Akaya had opened his mouth to say, resulting in a muted “ah” instead of any words. Silently he waited out the rest of the scrubbing - or, semi-silently, since the firmer pressure coaxed a few nasal sounds out of him in lieu of the purr he felt like producing. “S’your fault,” he droned, eyes still closed, attention diverted too much to his sense of touch to offer more of a rebuttal than that.

His eyes opened slowly as the conditioner was added, the brief pause in touch enough to move him. Akaya watched Zaizen through his lashes, a vague smile lingering. “Yeah, good,” he agreed. “Gonna sit there until I get pruny or we get kicked out.” The tub called to him nearly as strongly as Zaizen's hands did, but not quite enough to prompt him to get up yet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Zaizen muttered back, staring into Akaya’s low lashed and sleepy greens. He intended to swat his companion into action, but it ended up a lingering touch that dragged vertebrae by vertebrae down Akaya’s spine. “Get moving, then. I need my raisin snacks later.”

Following the dubious statement, he stood and offered Akaya his hands.

The shivers from Zaizen’s slow stroke down his back were basically completely offset by the confusion brought on by the last statement. Akaya looked up at him as he stood, puzzled. “We got chocolate, not-” his brain caught the actual intention a second too late. A mix of flustered colour and displeased grimace overtook the confusion.

“...weird vore fantasies. Sound like a cannibal tryin’ to flirt,” he muttered under his breath, taking Zaizen’s offered hands and standing. Akaya let go almost immediately, unable to reason with himself long enough to come up with anything other than whirling his partner around by the shoulders and pushing him toward the bath. He moved ahead, call of the water strong. Slipping in with athletic grace, he faced Zaizen with his mouth only just above the waterline, brows still lowered.

As Akaya shoved him forward, Zaizen thoroughly ignored the fact that they were both naked to say, “Please tell me more about your other experiences flirting with cannibals, Kirihara Akaya.”

It was hard to ignore the nudity with Akaya rushing in front of him, but his scampering into the heat was cute enough to temper potentially tintillating thoughts with the butterflies in his stomach, which flopped about threatening to make him nauseous. Zaizen hoped that the hot water would kill them off, with no luck. The feeling did, however, mellow in the bone-melting warmth, leaving him pleasantly tingling. Zaizen settled across from Akaya and stared quietly at his half-submerged companion for some time, before simply tipping his head back, exposing the length of his jawline as he closed his eyes and sighed. The curls of heat wafting up taunted the slightly dry ends of his hair to fluffiness, even as the rest of it stayed down.

The other cannibals didn’t matter, not really. They weren’t competition. The thought made him smirk at the ceiling.

Instead of telling Zaizen about his nonexistent other cannibal flirting experiences, Akaya shrugged and murmured “‘n you said I was gonna eat someone…” quietly, somehow avoiding getting water in his mouth. Not being particularly body conscious, he missed the minor internal crisis Zaizen had with the fluttering insects.

The staring was first met with a blink, then a tilt of the head. Akaya pulled himself higher from the surface, shoulders re-emerging to lean back against the lip of the bath. The relaxing effects of the steamy water fought off any tenseness that this kind of scrutiny from his companion may otherwise have brought. So he watched back, his mind unconsciously taking little notes - the heat lines on Zaizen’s pale skin, the curve between neck and collar, the way his hair was falling over his ears and face. And when Zaizen moved his head back, the first coil of something white-hot settled in his abdomen and drew peaked redness to his cheeks. He remembered pressing his mouth to that sharp jawbone, the juncture between it and his throat - his mental note-taking became less unconscious with a bold red “do that again” marked somewhere obvious.

But that was for later. Akaya looked away, inhaled heavily once, and mirrored the pose to look at the ceiling. “Don’t let me fall asleep,” he said. There was no real danger of it, but it was a good prompt to talk anyway.

The question had Zaizen drawing his chin back down to normal levels and peeking through his heavy eyelids at the reclined Akaya. Then, he made his own current toward the tennis player, water rippling gently around his graceful route to Akaya’s side.

I protect my meals, was what he meant to say. Instead, he said, “Now you can fall asleep.” His shoulder was enough to keep Akaya from slipping into the overheated bath. “I’ll let you know when we have to go.”

They had less than ten minutes, but time meant nothing to a sleepy Kirihara Akaya.

Akaya only noticed Zaizen’s approach when he was basically already next to him. Surprised, he raised himself a bit higher out of the water, intending to move over - but that would rather defeat the purpose and was more split-second instinct than any want to move. The offer of a Hikaru-shaped pillow for a short bath nap had him speechless. After a moment of frozen inaction, Akaya settled back next to him, slipping lower in the water to have his conditioner-coated head rest on the plane of his partner’s shoulder.

Their arms pressed together, Akaya reached carefully to find Zaizen’s hand and fit his together loosely with it. “M’not actually gonna sleep,” he said quietly. It didn’t sound that convincing now. His eyes were already traitorously closing even though his skin prickled where it met the other. The nap would be so short that he could barely tell if he’d actually drifted off.

His patience was rewarded, extended hand clasped.

“Of course not,” Zaizen answered and bumped his thumb over Akaya’s knuckles one by one. He focused on the weight molded to his side. Maybe Akaya fell asleep, maybe he didn’t, but he liked being relied on to track the whimsical minutes that became long or short contrary to desire. The water dripped, rippling occasionally as it fell from either of their hair; some vague noises from the pipe echoed lightly along the edges of their bubble; he could even hear some voices down the hall, muted as if from a different place entirely, but Akaya’s breath, steady and cool against his neck, occupied his sharp ears and attention almost entirely.

His hand wandered Akaya’s, playing with his fingertips as the minute hand ticked closer to time up. “Hey,” Zaizen murmured eventually. “We have a few minutes to rinse.”

As suspected, it was impossible to tell if he’d slept or not, Akaya’s eyes flickering open at the prompting. His palm tingled, sensitive from attention - he felt just a bit more awake than he had before he’d shut his eyes. Released slowly from Zaizen’s grip, fingertips extended from the water for inspection. Acceptably wrinkly. Akaya smiled.

“‘kay,” he said with some finality, overall satisfied with the Bathtime Experience. Rolling his neck, he moved away to slide backwards out of the bath, feet soaking for a second longer before he padded over to the plastic seats and hose for rinsing. Considering the hose for a second, he picked it up and studied it before holding it out somewhat expectantly. “D’you wanna do it, or…”

Zaizen’s return smile was a minute twitch of his lips that lasted as long as it took for Akaya to gently extract himself from their tangle. He left the bath by a more direct route, and had a spot of time to rinse himself off quickly before nodding to Akaya’s question.

“Sure,” he added, though the answer was obvious by his three step journey. “Tilt your head back?” this time, Zaizen stood behind Akaya as he coaxed his locks up into the warm spray.

Relinquishing the hose, Akaya did as instructed, hands folding over his lap as his chin tipped upward with eyes closed. He felt comfortably heated through to his bones, muscles relaxed and fluid beneath his skin. The water being guided through his hair with expert care was like the final few moments of a dream, the conditioner rinsed out and leaving his head feeling lighter without it.

“This was a good idea,” he murmured, clean and fed and pleased. The warmth hadn’t make him sleepy to the extent of yawning, but the tiny nap had cleared the post-practice buzzing from his mind, leaving comfortable fluff in its place.

“All my ideas are good ideas,” Zaizen said. After he coaxed any lingering conditioner from inky curls, the whole thing was just an excuse to play his musical fingers against Akaya’s scalp in luxuriant circles. “And when we get back to the room….” his fingers pushed lightly behind heat-pinked ears to accentuate the suggestion.

Logically Akaya knew he should be totally free of hair product by now, but indulging Zaizen's touch was the opposite of a problem. The slow, delicate massage was just as indulgent to him, after all. Maybe this should turn into a regular thing too, he thought, as Zaizen's movements came to their rest.

The trailed-off thought had Akaya's ears going even pinker, implication heavy and prickling to his sensitised self. "...raisin snacks," he offered slowly, hand blindly reaching up to find Zaizen's face and press the soak-textured tips on his fingers against his cheek.

The hand not bunched in Akaya’s hair curled delicately around the one seeking his face. Rather than pushing him away, Zaizen drew a finger to his mouth and didn’t hesitate to slide his lower teeth over water-wrought flesh. Staring at Akaya through the steamy mirror across from the stools, he followed the somewhat provocative gesture with a breath against his palm, “Matcha cream.”

The scrape of teeth along the reactive pad of his finger had Akaya inhaling sharply, eyelids snapping open in shock. Colour spread rapidly over his top half again, seemingly radiating excess heat - his muscles could not tense as they usually would with the lingering bath-rest flowing through them. Meeting Zaizen's sharp gaze in the mirror, eyes panic-wide, his head dropped forward slowly to loosen his grip and hide Akaya's agitated expression. "Holy shit," he whispered, captured wrist angling back and fingers curling to escape any way they could. He suddenly understood what made Zaizen drop that glass this morning.

He carefully eased himself out of any remaining contact, slinking away to the cubbies without another look to find a towel and his clothes. "Okay. Sure, chocolate. Dressed. Let's go," he recited, a high note of strain in his voice.

As Akaya’s blush dialed up to eleven, so did the wicked smirk that followed the tennis player’s urgent retreat. When Zaizen said, “idiot,” to the empty chamber, his smirk had smoothed into something more content.

Zaizen went about arranging the stools how they found them and cleaned up his caddy for storage. By the time he returned to the dry room, Akaya was dressed and croaking at him so nicely. “Two minutes. You’ll have to wait,” Zaizen said, and took that entire length of time to change into his comfortable sweats with his back to Akaya.

A towel draped over his extremely clean, still-drying hair, Akaya leaned back against the wall by the exit with his toothbrush in one hand, the other held in front of his face as if he was expecting it to suddenly catch on fire. The study of his own skin was interrupted by Zaizen taking his sweet time getting dressed. In his haste, Akaya hadn’t quite dried his back properly, and his thin sleep shirt stuck to his spine.

“Only ‘cause you’ve got the key,” he said, crossing his arms. The pruny ridges in his fingertips were fading, but he couldn’t stop himself from running his thumb over one in particular. “...you should play that song from your class when we get back.” Noticing Zaizen was fully dressed, Akaya turned to leave.

“You could wait in front of my door if you really want to,” Zaizen said as he shrugged into his shirt and gave his damp bangs a little ruffle for volume. It took him half a minute more to gather up his materials again and shuffle into his apartment slides. “Play play, or play from my phone?” he asked on their way back down the hall to his room.

"I don't want to," Akaya said quietly. Falling in to step behind Zaizen, he patted occasionally at his hair and then at his face, hoping some of the lingering damp would calm the electric feeling that had returned just under his skin. He pouted at Zaizen's back as they walked, and he only realised he was being prompted for a reply upon reaching the door. "Either is okay," he considered with a shrug. "Hearin' you actually play is nice though."

Zaizen could basically feel Akaya’s sulk weighing on his back. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, turning to face Akaya after he shifted enough to let him in after. “It’s not that impressive on piano keyboard,” he warned, setting down his caddy and stepping backward toward his desk. “But I do play for chocolate,” his sharp eyes glanced at Akaya’s bag, then hopefully back at his companion in suggestion.

Akaya stretched as they made it back into the apartment, using the back of the door as a support to let the movement flow all the way to his toes. Zaizen's extremely subtle suggestion was met with what was supposed to be an unimpressed look, but that got mixed up with amusement somewhere along the way - a raised eyebrow and a mouth quirked upward was the result.

"Yeah, yeah," he conceded, shifting and kneeling to unzip the end pocket of his bag and retrieve the sweets. "As requested. Fetch quest complete." He tapped the bag against Zaizen's upper arm and handed it over, taking a seat on the edge of the futon.

On receiving the exciting package, Zaizen flashed a peace sign and employed that same hand to play a brief victory jingle. “Ta dah,” he concluded flatly.

The first matcha cream was unspeakable. Literally, he had no words for the perfect melty bliss. After a minute of quietly enjoying the same small dessert melting on his tongue and pairing it with a contented hum, he offered the bag back to Akaya. “You’ve unlocked a treasure.”

A laugh accompanied the little tune and Akaya held one hand high in the air, two fingers up in a matching peace sign. Victory pose. For some reason, even though it had been his effort and his money, it felt... worth it. Maybe this was why fetch quests in video games were so common.

As Zaizen stood transfixed in the middle of the room, Akaya watched him, totally amused. Matcha cream was truly a powerful thing. Accepting the packet back with a "Thaaankyou," Akaya skipped the matcha in favour of curiously taking one of the unknown fruit creams, unwrapping it and biting through half. "...oh yep, this is orange," he said, pleased. The dark chocolate mixed well with the citrus, high quality meaning it melted together seamlessly.

An idea came to him then as he stared at the other half of the little square of chocolate. It was stupid, but when had that stopped him before? Placing the piece between his teeth, he leaned back on his hands and waggled his eyebrows cheesily at Zaizen.

Opening his eyes from his momentary chocolate coma, Zaizen fixed his eyes on Akaya’s sampling and subsequent delight. A muted grin — the concerns of his mouth pinned down despite the flatline spreading across his face — and a reaching hand met the cheesy display. Zaizen’s palm formed gently to Akaya’s cheek as he stepped intimately close to stare first at the chocolate, and then into his eyes.

“You’re under arrest,” Zaizen said, then brought their mouths together for the first time since this morning, a perfect union of chocolate, citrus, and affection.

Grinning openly back around the sweet between his teeth, Akaya couldn't help leaning forward as Zaizen's hand met his cheek, guiding him to look upward enough for the kiss to be comfortable. He surrendered the piece to his partner's mouth, inexperience rendering the first moment slightly awkward but overshadowed by the sheer triple threat of Very Good Things between them. Straightening his back, Akaya’s arms came up from supporting him to loop around Zaizen's neck loosely, holding him in place to prolong their contact.

Was it possible to get drunk on chocolate? In the circle of strong arms around him, Zaizen explored this possibility and Akaya’s smile. Their mouths collided all taste and no grace, but when they found the right fit, he curled his tongue boldly over the chocolate and Akaya’s lips, stealing some flavor before the half-treat in its entirely. Because swallowing and kissing at the same time seemed a bit strange, he took a moment to do so, pausing to caress Akaya’s cheek and breathe the same air.

Zaizen licked his lips for the lingering taste, and then hesitated no longer to claim another.

Such a brief tease of velvet tongue sent a ripple of want from their contact point to Akaya's core. Despite that, he let Zaizen draw away to appreciate the remainder of the fruit cream properly. Pressing his face into the caress, his own tongue peeked out to help draw his lower lip between his teeth for a second.

Eyes shining and sharp until Zaizen met his lips again, Akaya's hands slid from over his shoulders, tucking under his arms to coax him closer. While the angle with Zaizen above him was nice in its own right, it would be tiring for the other boy to maintain - and it wasn't nearly enough for how close Akaya wanted them to be right now.

The chocolate was delicious not nearly so much as the hungry look that made his mouth run dry. Akaya would get what he wanted, but perhaps not in the way he expected.

Drawn in magnetically by that gaze, then kiss, and finally hands urging him forward, Zaizen planted a knee beside Akaya. He traced Akaya’s cheekbones with his thumb and smoothed down his neck to a tennis-rounded shoulder, using it, along with the pressure of his body weight, to bring Akaya down to the futon. When Zaizen settled with one elbow on the blanket over the tennis player, he curiously licked bitten lips — pulled back for a moment of captivated staring — and then did it again, kissing Akaya and ghosting the tip his tongue over his lower lip.

Okay, so maybe the idea hadn't been that stupid after all, since it had led to this. Akaya let himself be guided backward, Zaizen's shifting weight easing him down until his back met the futon. Oh, he thought somewhere in the depths of his mind. And then oh again at that investigative sweep over the seam of his mouth, before he even had his own chance to follow up on that particular desire. When Zaizen pulled away he stared back in amazement, lifting his head to meet him in the middle for the next kiss.

The point of Zaizen's tongue so delicately tracing made Akaya tremble and inhale sharply, his grip changing from his partner's shoulderblades. One hand settled at his waist, a steadying presence - the other moved around, up his chest and over his collar, along his jaw with the thumb to one side of his chin. Hesitantly, Akaya slid his thumb over the skin there. He tugged ever so lightly to bring Zaizen's mouth to a better angle, coaxing his lips apart enough to allow a curious brush of tongues.

Zaizen shivered. Akaya’s delicate caress framed the smoothest slide of nerve endings, leaving his mind smoking car wreck. He made some muted and devastating moan as the hand at his back kept him from pulling away through familiarity rather than entrapment. Emboldened by Akaya’s warmth over and around him, Zaizen settled into the new angle, finding Akaya’s lips over and over and parting his own to sate a craving he didn’t know he had.

The fuller exchange of mouths was a bit clumsy with conspiring tongues and angles that experimented from that perfect one. but enough to conclude that French kisses were more potent than chocolate. Not that it stopped Zaizen from pushing his nose against Akaya’s and murmuring at a shuddering breath. “Another one.”

With Zaizen's soft moan the hesitance that Akaya had been showing melted away completely. Responding with a throaty sound of his own, he met each new join of their mouths with equal fervour. The touch at Zaizen's jaw drifted upward into his hair. Something deeply pleasant rippled down his spine whenever their tongues curled together just right; a sound broke through (who from, who knew? It didn't matter to keep track); the taste of matcha snuck in.

As Zaizen broke away - though not far - Akaya nuzzled his nose back against his partner's without any thought. His mind was oversensitized, fuzzy; lips kiss-swollen and hands smoothing over spine and shoulder as he looked through half-lidded eyes. "Hm?" He questioned, the demand not making it past the haze at first. When it did, he exhaled amusedly, hands reluctantly leaving the other's body to reach one blindly for the earlier discarded packet and the other to run through his curls.

The threat of overwhelming, retreat-worthy emotion loomed as the dazed feeling slowly wore off. Fighting it down and locating the chocolates, Akaya brought the bag between them with a shake of the contents. "So demanding," he said, voice thin as he tried to regain his breath. "Your pick."

Akaya’s moans thrilled like the best kind of music. The hairs on Zaizen’s arms raised to attention. Fingers combing his thick locks brought his own to clutch Akaya’s shoulder tighter, as if without it and the arm securely at his waist, the tongue volleying exploratively against his own would allegro him into oversensitized madness. He hummed — or was that Akaya? — and blinked the stars out of his eyes long enough to see beyond the red lips and dazed eyes that matched his own. It took what felt like a full minute of nuzzling to indulge in the answer to his demand.

“You like it,” he said breathlessly. Zaizen smirked with a shamelessness that might have surprised him if chocolate were not involved. Deciding that a surprise was in order, he reached into the offered bag and popped the chocolate between his lips before Akaya could so much as see it; and that was okay, because the glint in his eyes challenged come and get it.

As soon as Zaizen was done with his choice the bag was shoved to the side again, Akaya's hands settling back above his hips. His skin felt like a volatile element, where if he strayed too long from contact it would become painful and acidic. Perhaps he was some kind of touch-starved. Despite the panicky alarm of the emotional exertion, his body was acting independent of those warnings.

The spark in Zaizen's eyes made Akaya swallow - oh my god, he thought, and maybe muttered aloud. But his competitive spirit kicked in and overcame his nerves before he could make a fool of himself. Using leverage and his considerable upper body strength to his advantage, Akaya's forearms tensed around his companion's waist to turn him to one side, following himself to halo his arms around Zaizen's head and hover above him in a reversal of position. He wasn't straddling him - one side was left consciously open as space to pull away if needed. "Do I?" he whispered, voice almost a purr - he punctuated this boldly with a flick of tongue over the middle of Zaizen's lips, but no more than that. "Then... what do you like?"

But Zaizen didn’t pull away. His smug gaze now startled and wide, he whined and clung to Akaya for security as he tumbled onto his back. The strawberry pistachio taste burst over his tongue as the sensual caress of Akaya’s voice did to the rest of him. Zaizen drew a shuddering breath and ignored the heightened heartbeat pounding in his ears. Akaya’s body heat and flirtatious tongue were harder to overlook.

Because it was impossible to answer with a full mouth, Zaizen nodded once and glared snowflakes even as he flushed a dusky pink. This was cheating. Completely unfair. He wiggled an arm between them to trace Akaya’s throat and adam’s apple with a single finger. When it reached his chin, Zaizen pulled Akaya down to invent his new favorite flavor.

Grinning wickedly at the flustered reaction he'd managed to elicit from the usually composed Zaizen, Akaya revelled in the little noises and colours that accompanied it. The movement over his throat sombred him a bit, though, shifting his mood to a softer and fonder smile as he allowed himself to be pulled down. His hands threaded through the soft hair at Zaizen's crown they met again.

The slight tartness of the strawberry was the first thing he tasted, a surprised half-chuckle bringing the grin back to his face even though his mouth was also occupied with other actions. It was kind of strange, to be kissing with chocolate melting a bit between them, especially with the texture of pistachio shards interrupting the smoothness. But it was still very, very good as Akaya managed to steal the piece between his teeth and bite part of it off, giving a tiny nip to Zaizen's bottom lip as he pulled away. He lowered his head and upper body onto his partner's chest, somewhat restricted by the narrowness of the futon. "Good choice, huh," he said muffled around the pink bite of chocolate, immensely pleased with himself.

Zaizen luxuriated in his successful baiting and trapping, the strange friction they realized over his palate. He didn’t care when Akaya stole chocolate because the taste he left behind was more potent and intoxicating. It was hard to think with the aftershocks of lips and teeth on his mouth, which was to blame for twining his hands in Akaya’s hair when he settled on his chest and murmuring breathlessly, “You did all right, you cheater.”

His fingers explored damp curls, carving artless paths along his scalp to an unconscious song. “I like this,” Zaizen said, an echo of the night before. His other hand draped over Akaya’s back. “But. You owe me another first service.”

Akaya shrugged at the accusation of cheating - it was partly true, but he didn't have to actually admit that. The taste of strawberry melted on his tongue and he couldn't help but lick his lips once it had all dissipated. Zaizen weaving a melody of touch back across his head had Akaya's eyelashes fluttering and a calm expression settling on to his face.

"I like this too," he murmured. Arms shifted to settle around Zaizen's side in a loose embrace. He blinked at the last statement, though, a confused but interested dip to his brow. "First service, huh... you can take it. But I ain't admitting to anything, got it?"

Zaizen inhaled long and felt more grounded for the weight coming down for his chest. As Akaya’s hair spilled through his fingers, he spared some wonder for the existence of this moment and this feeling. Surely this explosive peace was the something sought by so many, but this was different. Because it was them. Tipping his chin such that his breath stirred inky curls, Zaizen smiled at Akaya.

“You just did, idiot.”

But somehow, idiot rolled off of Zaizen’s tongue like the fondest word in the language.

"Admitting to that and to the other thing are totally different," Akaya replied, tone haughty but expression mischievously amused. Zaizen's quiet smile made him feel warm to the tips of his fingers. It was different to see him like this, but - Akaya realised with a sudden clarity - the feeling had become more and more familiar over the passing weeks with increasing intensity. Maybe he was an idiot. But they were here now, and that was more than enough.

Akaya shifted upward to steal that smile with a long, gentle press to Zaizen's mouth, hands sliding up to frame his face. When he drew back, he brought their foreheads together, eyes barely open. "Got distracted, didn't we," he muttered. "Feels like we could've started this ages ago. So it's like… catching up."

“Totally different,” Zaizen whispered, words more a caress against Akaya’s mouth than anything else. Kisses and calloused hands absorbed his sarcasm, leaving only the desire to lick Akaya’s lips for him, which he did just before they drew back to share smiles. This time, the laughter was in the green eyes peering across at long, dark lashes. They were so close, he wondered if he could count them.

But then they would never catch up. “If we did, today would be different,” and that was something he wouldn’t risk even if he had a Tardis to fly back six weeks ago and give them both a slap. Zaizen traced indolent circles on the soft curls at Akaya’s nape and said softly, “Today was good.” Another thought had him huffing lightly between them. “You might have hidden from me twice as long.”

"Mm," Akaya agreed simply. Even if it felt like they'd missed out on some time like... this, whatever 'this' was, the way the last 24 hours had unfolded was just about perfect. And catching up was definitely not a bad thing. At the mention of his initial reaction, though, Akaya turned slightly pink and pointedly hid his face in the crook of Zaizen's neck. "Aw, shut up," he whined, muffled by his pose. "It was a lot t' be thinkin' about so suddenly."

Akaya remained there for an extended moment, breathing quiet and even against the soft skin of Zaizen's collar. Not tired, but ridiculously comfortable. Reaching over for the choco bag, he randomly picked a fruit cream and struggled to unwrap it in one hand without looking. "You still owe me a song," he remembered suddenly. Finally freeing the chocolate, he pressed it to Zaizen's lips. "What flavour's this one?"

As if to make up for the cheesy words before, Zaizen taunted with his breath to Akaya’s hair, “I’ll never shut up. I bypassed that update, too.” While Akaya recovered, Zaizen wondered if he could pinpoint the exact moment Akaya was remembering to make his skin turn that color (and how he could achieve that effect again). More than amenable to having his study disrupted by chocolate, he parted his lips for the chocolate and, accidentally on purpose, caressed Akaya’s fingertips, catching the very tip of his finger with his sweet-addicted tongue.

It was a fruit cream. The fruit flavor bloomed on his taste buds and, eyes alight, Zaizen said, “Kiwi. Would you rather a taste or a song?”

Or both. He did have it on his phone.

Unable to anticipate the feeling of lips and tongue over the pads of his fingers, Akaya's hand did an odd twitchy dance in the air as the sensation crawled down those sensitive nerves. A surprised "ah" slipped out unintentionally. His face burned and he tucked his cheek against Zaizen's cooler skin to dissipate some of that heat.

"...I want both," he mumbled after a second, finally lifting his head. Kiwi sounded interesting and somehow suitable to Zaizen, but if he caved without protest every time they would never get anything done. The demand was probably supposed to be commanding, but the lingering flush and inability to quite meet Zaizen's eyes made it come across more like an unsure suggestion.

That little ripple turned into a wave, and oh did Zaizen relish its crash over Akaya. His flustered hesitance was a thousand times more interesting to him than reflecting on that afternoon lecture. He had spent a good deal of said lecture remembering how Akaya’s curls brushed up against him the way they did just now; how his breath teased down his neck; how bright eyes, even when they couldn’t quite find his own, seemed to stab rude and warm emotions into his chest with every blink.

“Really?” Zaizen drawled clumsily around the chocolate, fingertips tracing Akaya’s shoulder. “You want to listen to a concerto?”

"Sure. I said I was interested, right?" Akaya confirmed. His eyes blinked back to meet the other's gaze, mouth at an odd twist. His heart felt like it was forcing against his chest, urging him to move forward and pilfer some chocolate from Zaizen's lips, or press his own against Zaizen's jawbone. The feeling was somehow foreign and familiar all at once. It took a lot to hold it back, so he didn't - a tiny kiss just under Zaizen's chin could simply not be restrained. "But m'interested in this, too," he admitted, nudging the bridge of his nose against the same spot.

Content to be coy with his song and play the role of actual chocolate, Zaizen tilted his neck back for the caress of thoroughly kissed lips. His smile was a open secret, a quiet and smug thing; the new feeling he found in Akaya’s eyes might always taste of kiwi.

“On my phone, then,” he said decisively, taking some wild curls for a gentle rotation of his fingers. “So you don’t have to choose. I’m generous.”

With a guiding hand returned to his hair and a head tipped back, the tilt of Zaizen's neck looked like an offer. Akaya paused, considering the new territory and his options before humming a high "Mm-hmm," of distracted agreement and making a choice. He could try the kiwi later, and Zaizen needed to see his phone anyway; fingers pushed loosely into the back of Zaizen's hair to cradle his head, leaving the column of clean and cared-for skin exposed.

"So generous," he murmured, mouth drifting the words over where his head had been tucked before. A lingering pink stained his cheekbones and ears even as Akaya fluttered a kiss there, and then another slightly lower. Revenge for his fingertips, he reasoned to himself, tongue darting out for the briefest moment to taste.

Zaizen’s lashes dipped with the caress of words and then fully closed for his lips. “I am,” he agreed, the words coming out more breathy than intended. It was Akaya’s fault. How were his fingers supposed to function under this kind of tender assault? On the way to retrieving the phone, they skated down Akaya’s nape and across his shoulder.

“We’re in the romantic period…” he sighed, opening his eyes again. Zaizen opened his phone, too, but struggled to steer his gaze from the blush painting Akaya’s features with all kinds of telling evidence. The chocolate was melted and gone but the tingling hues of excitement lingered with him as well. “Have you heard of Rachmaninoff?”

The briefest skim of fingertips over his the back of his neck had Akaya shivering, but then the sappy coincidence of 'romantic' period brought a slight grimace to his face. Deciding not to mention anything, though, Akaya turned his head to blink at Zaizen's phone screen. "Rachi... man? Um. No," he answered honestly. He shifted up slightly, closing his eyes to listen and nosing into the soft spot behind Zaizen's jawbone, just under his ear. "His name's too complicated."

Having felt more than seen Akaya’s expression, Zaizen shook his head slightly, chin brushing over dark curls. “Not that kind of romantic,” he said, head shifting in the direction of his phone to give Akaya more space to snuggle. The contact was somewhere between ticklish and frisson-inducing, a combination specially crafted to keep him between a smile and a sigh. “It’s just the time period.”

He selected the first movement of Rachmanioff’s second concerto. “His music is complicated, too. I can’t play this very well, yet.”

Surprised at being caught, the clarification of terminology just made Akaya give a sheepish "oh" in reply. He settled as the music began, cuddled up close with his nose still pressed to Zaizen's jaw. It was just a little closer than some of their usual cuddle positions - potential embarrassment had been left behind some time ago.

Humming with interest at Zaizen's admission, the first minute or so was met with quiet almost-attentiveness (it was not his fault that Zaizen's skin was soft, and that he now felt the need to wear off some dazed affection that clung like the clay in France but much more preferable). The complexity of the music was evident even to Akaya's untrained ears. "Piano?" He murmured vaguely, before catching himself to clarify. "Like, you're learning the piano part?"

Zaizen exhaled, echoing the softer breath gliding down his neck. The gentle breathing pinned him to the present just as effectively as the live, grounding weight draped over him. Something about this open, accepting warmth kept Zaizen honest and confident. Set with his phone, his fingers drifted back to Akaya’s back, where he played a few unpracticed attempts to follow the more exciting bits of piano. “More the theory…” he admitted, because he wasn’t necessarily a piano student. “But I want to learn it.”

Although he wasn’t too terribly competitive, something about this challenge called to him. “Or at least parts of it.” One particular strand of music, however, he gave up on and traced his prone jungle cat up and down his spine in rhythmic circles.

Akaya's hand played with the ends of Zaizen's hair. Unsure rhythm being played over his skin brought a hidden smile to his face, eyes fluttering closed to enjoy the touch and music. Even when his partner's fingers stumbled over the complex notes, Akaya didn't care. He was perfectly happy to be a practice board in this case. "It'd be cool to play," he said quietly. "Sounds like you'd need extra fingers, though."

The switch to rings being traced along his spine had him exhaling heavily, head sliding slightly away from Zaizen's to press into the pillow instead. Light pressure between his shoulderblades left him arching just a little, a small knot of tension there being prompted to loosen. "Keep doin' that," Akaya muttered, offering no other explanation as he went almost motionless.

“I’ll steal some of yours in the night,” Zaizen teased at a crawl; the hands in his hair not only disengaged his porcupine nature, but also lured him into a sleepy sort of amiability.

Akaya, too, came apart at the touch of a button. Zaizen peered at him on the pillow and ignored the flutter of warmth in his belly (was it motion sickness?) to oblige. “Like this?” he asked, pushing his thumbs gently against the tender spot at a massage.

Whining, Akaya withdrew his hands and tucked them protectively against his chest. The lack of contact made them feel oddly cold, but his body provided enough for the moment. “You can't have them,” he said. At least not in the implied sense. Other ways of holding his fingers in the night were just fine actually.

And then the point of light force applied to that tense knot had him squirming just a little. Swallowing a very potentially embarrassing sound, Akaya converted it to a breathy “Yeah,” trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. “Good spot.” Zaizen's careful touches weren't quite as skillful as an actual masseuse, but much more comforting somehow.

“But I’m in need,” Zaizen pointed out far too reasonably for the conversation that they were having. He missed the contact but felt more awake and able to appreciate Akaya’s protective huddle for it. The corners of his eyes bunched with the smile fighting his bitch face to come to life; it looked more like a bizarre, happy grimace. Fortunately this strange expression didn’t merit much attention, not when Akaya was preoccupied with writhing under his prodding hands. “Like that? Or lighter?” he rubbed the spot in gentler circles, more like a warm up than a full powered knead.

The music formed a complex, lilting backing track for the mix of conversation and cuddly massage. Akaya slowly slid his face back into the junction between Zaizen's neck and shoulder, the sensation causing him to shift into the closer position. "Are you sure you even need the extra fingers, actually..." he whispered, hands untucking to curl around between Zaizen's back and the futon in a full hug. "These ones work pretty well. ‘N like that's good."

Vaguely he wondered if Zaizen would kiss him and continue kneading away at the tension - not wanting to vocalise that, though, he nudged his nose once against Zaizen's neck and lifted his head to give him a pointed, expectant look.

The ridiculous tennis player had apparently forgotten his fear of lost fingers, or decided that his digits were somehow safer beneath Zaizen’s back. Not that Zaizen minded. The warm circle of Akaya’s reach and affectionate closeness made a fine accompaniment to the somewhat rhythmic massage that dipped and swirled with the complex web of skittering notes.

When Akaya peered up at him with a certain question in his fathomless eyes, Zaizen drawled, “That depends if you want a masseuse or a musician.” Although he knew full well what Akaya wanted, he leaned in slowly to brush their noses and conspire, able to taste chocolately breath on the air before he realized the briefest, most teasing brush of lips that ever did exist. “Like that?” Zaizen whispered again, nudging his knuckle against that spot on Akaya’s back.

"Mm, I think you're good for being both," Akaya said in a tone meant to discourage any further digit thievery. Meeting the bump of noses with an affectionate little nudge of his own, the following not-quite kiss left him ready to make a protest - only to be cut off by a muted moan prompted by the sweet pressure along his spine. His fingers wiggled in the restricted space against Zaizen's back as he rolled his own shoulders, trying to encourage both kinds of attention. "Tease," he complained breathily. "Do it properly."

“Yeah?” Zaizen asked with a smirk, fully knowing the answer. Akaya’s expressive warmth, the push of skin and breath against his face, willed the sharpness of his expression into something watercolor, only made softer by the sultry sound shimmying in and about his ears. His breath hitched in reply.

Whether it was ticklish fingers or tempting proximity that had him squirming under Akaya, neither of them would know; mostly because Zaizen chose that moment to oblige. By properly, Zaizen assumed he meant slotting their lips slowly and licking the taste of kiwi into a very devilish mouth.

And finally, Akaya's earlier request for a taste and a song was realised. He pressed back smugly into the kiss, the lingering kiwi flavour making his lips quirk upward as he absorbed it with slow, languid brushes of his tongue. Whereas their earlier deep kisses had been rough and needy, Akaya took his time, hands curling where they could in the back of Zaizen's shirt.

While his mouth may have been devilish, the delicate pink over his cheeks and nervously bitten lip when they broke apart looked anything but. "It-" he started, cutting himself off and glancing away. "The kiwi tastes good," he muttered, seemingly changing what he was going to say at the last moment.

Hands played back, welcome weight pressed down, and somehow Akaya’s lips on his had become something familiar in addition to something wondrous -- like being at home while going on an adventure or listening to a favorite song over and over again and hearing something a little different each time.

“I’ll do you one better,” Zaizen said, and kissed Akaya’s bitten lips with his smile. A song called Pink, he decided -- and immediately liked it about as much as Carmine. He tilted his head to explore flushed cheeks and whisper in his ear, “But I want the rest of the chocolate.”

"One better?" Akaya echoed, mildly confused. Fluttered kisses over his cheek only made his colour deepen, a strange feeling sparking in his chest. He rolled his shoulders, the little knot almost completely dissipated (though the skin still tingled), and huffed a little at Zaizen's demand.

"...I still wanna try the other fruit cream flavours," he reasoned, blinking as he hovered slightly above his partner. Reaching out for the chocolate packet, he couldn't find it within arm's length - frowning slightly, he reluctantly withdrew his other arm as well and sat up on his knees to find it. The bag was precariously close to falling to the floor, having been shoved to the edge earlier.

Zaizen’s expression was still ever so pleased when Akaya pulled back. Sharp eyes followed the blossoming color and then the larger boy’s movements as he gravitated toward the neglected bag of goodies. Zaizen himself followed somewhat, too. He sat up partially, still staring as he shifted out of the middle of the bed.

“If you don’t get it, I’m not going to tell you,” Zaizen said in his slow Osaka crawl. “But go ahead -- show and tell.”

After all, Akaya wasn’t going after a coveted matcha cream.

Watching Zaizen sit up with him as if pulled by some kind of gravity amused Akaya a little, smiling as he moved back to poke through the remaining fruit creams. There were still quite a few left, the colourful foil winking as it caught the light. Picking a silver one, he unwrapped it and unceremoniously bit right through the middle.

"...coconut," he said, shuffling forward and turning around to sit in the space Zaizen had mostly vacated. The futon wasn't big enough for them to really not be touching. The remaining half of the cream was held out to show the white inside, looking like an offer for Zaizen to take it. "So show me now?"

Zaizen watched with the sort of stare that Akaya usually shrunk away from and drew closer, ducking low and putting his hands on the futon to steal the half-cream from calloused tennis fingers. His teeth scraped the pads of those digits because -- if last time were any clue -- Akaya’s expression would be more filling than all the fruit creams in the bag.

But Zaizen was too greedy to stop there. Or too willing to share. He kept crawling forward to all but pin Akaya to the futon with his weight and heat. A mere breath apart, he murmured, “Like this.”

It was like the pistachio and citrus but so much smoother for the taste and the practice. He was relaxed yet still his heart raced like the tumbling piano playing through his phone or his mind, the source was uncertain; he listened, a man underwater, delving even deeper for coconut kisses and stupid tongue spars that meant everything and nothing all at the same time.

There was no shrinking away this time. The teeth against his fingertips had Akaya inhaling shakily, but he held Zaizen's gaze despite the wide-eyed blink that broke it momentarily. Watching the other move toward him with such purpose made Akaya shift, swallow, and place the hand that had hovered awkward and empty in the air against Zaizen's very close shoulder.

Even though he could see it coming, nothing was likely ever going to really prepare Akaya for approaches like that. The hand that had been placed as a (useless) restraint quickly changed tactics, sliding up the back of Zaizen's neck to urge him even further forward. Not quite lying down, Akaya had enough leverage to press himself upward to meet chest-to-chest, pulse pounding through his skin. Each kiss - some hard and hungry, some chaste and coy - was like learning a new word in their own language.

"Okay, I get it," Akaya breathed as they separated for a moment. "Better than tellin' me."

“Do you?” Zaizen asked and kissed Akaya again, punctuating the playful exchange with a cheeky nip. Even not kissing was almost as good for the shining eyes across from his and ragged, coconut breath coming between their swollen lips. It was a movement precarious, haphazard, emotional, yet somehow balanced like the tumbling notes that played and spilled into each other but never fell; Akaya cupped his neck with the same protectiveness and urgency Rachimanoff afforded his score.

He nosed off to the side, discovering Akaya’s jawline in patterns of teeth and tongue. His hands shifted back, scooting him a bit lower on Akaya and, not so coincidentally, sent the little bag of chocolates off the bed. Before the curly haired boy could formulate any protest, he swirled his tongue against his pulse. “Could tell you again…” he whispered.

Returning the little bite at his lip with a sharp-toothed grin, Akaya lowered himself back against the pillows, neck arching and eyelashes falling as Zaizen's attention was diverted from his mouth to his jawbone. His breath hitched in time with peaked notes and curious scrapes of teeth. The hand at Zaizen's neck edged up slowly into his hair, gripping lightly and pulling through then returning to a loose hold.

Had he been able to read Akaya's thoughts, Zaizen would have known that the extra distraction was unnecessary - he was too focused on the intimacy to notice the sneaky hiding technique that would secure the rest of the sweets in Zaizen's favour. The warm pressure against his pulse was like an electric shock, a moan half-catching in Akaya's throat in reaction. "Nn- tell me," he murmured, voice at a mewl. "Jus' to... make sure."
Akaya was an instrument to master over time. And it would take time, because for every jump of breath and soft sound he pulled, the other man wrenched something unexpected from him too. Rough hands in his hair drew a sigh between presses of lips, as if kisses were fairy lights leading the way back to Akaya’s lips. His moans and his voice made Zaizen’s heart beat faster, discordant with the music but just in time to see those warm words tingle his every extremity.

Zaizen licked the edge of Akaya’s chin and smiled privately. Yes, this would take time in the best possible way.

“Fine,” he murmured, and he shifted to look directly across from him again. “I like kissing your dumb face.”

The peppered chain of kisses along his throat and the touch of tongue to his jaw had Akaya laughing low and breathy, those little details so strange yet enough to fill his chest with a kind of buoyant sensation. Arms circled Zaizen's neck, Akaya meeting his gaze with a pleased grin. "Can't be that dumb if you like kissin' it," he drawled, craning forward for a second to leave a peck at the corner of Zaizen's mouth. "But I get it."

His skin still prickled from the attention, part of his mind nagging for more, but instead he pulled his partner down and nudged his cheek against Zaizen's temple. "I guess I like kissin' yours, too," he said amusedly. As if the last day hadn't made all that clear enough.