There were specific rules Soubi liked to have followed in his home. Of course, he knew quite well that his barren new apartment did not warrant much for the term "home" but it was where he lived and for Soubi, that made it home – in some shape or form.
Soubi did not mind the company that often overwhelmed his small apartment; in fact, he enjoyed it very much, although he may not have always made it so obvious. But Soubi liked the sounds of other beings in his rooms; the padding of feet, the murmurs of voices or even the unnecessary shouting bombarding the peaceful silence he often enveloped himself in. He liked to keep to himself during those times, observing from a distance, which suited him; but he liked company nonetheless.
However, Soubi did have a few rules that he felt needed to be followed. Especially one in particular – namely: privacy. Or to be more specific, privacy during bath time.
Of course he had been scrutinized and mocked when he had first made this little announcement; Kio's face had burned with feverish excitement, and Youji and Natsuo had clung to Soubi's waist, howling with laughter at his "girlish dignity." Even Ritsuka had seemed to be trying to conceal his amusement as Soubi stood there in the middle of the living room, growing steadily perturbed by the reactions of those around him.
Now for the most part of his life, Soubi was accustomed to living a life void of luxury, where his time was not his own, nor was his privacy. But that was then – that was when he knew no other lifestyle than to be dominated by a master – when his body and soul and emotions were restricted from his very self – when such things belonged to another.
But that was then, and this was now. Over the years he had slowly been coaxed out of his lifestyle of bondage – scolded now for not treating himself with a tad more respect. And over the years, Soubi had grown fond of certain new habits of his daily lifestyle – privacy. Long baths undisturbed by anyone; where he could soak his aching limbs in heated water; where his skin could be tenderly lapped; and old scars could be soothed.
Laying in blissful silence in a large, deliciously heated tub was something new to Soubi; but was one he was quickly growing fixated with.
So. In Soubi's "household" there was one rule: Do not disturb Soubi under any circumstances while Soubi is in the tub. And for the most part, this request was respected by most of the people that wandered throughout his apartment through the many hours of the day and night – despite the reactions Soubi had first received.
Ritsuka had complied completely ( after all, he was quite fond of private bath times himself ); Natsuo and Youji grumbled and complained to Soubi until he eventually grew fed up with them and tossed them out of his apartment ( he had felt a secret pleasure at hearing them tumble clumsily down the wooden stair way. ) But in the end, even they gave up their complaining and left Soubi alone.
Kio, however, was a completely different story. Kio, refused to let Soubi have his moments of peace. In fact, if Soubi did not know any better, he would have insisted that Kio came over purposefully during those hours when he was sure that Soubi was taking a bath.
Which bothered Soubi to no end. He even threatened to have the locks changed if Kio's intruding behavior persisted.
"Ah, Sou-chan," he had whined to Soubi one evening, latching himself to the deadpanned fellow's arm. "I've never gotten to see you naked yet. Ritsuka has – and I'm your best friend! How can you possibly deny me this?"
"Kio."
"After all we've been through . . . "
Reasoning with Kio was futile and he knew this. Yet Soubi could feel the corner of his left brow twitching of its own accord, and he knew that if he did not silence his friend soon he would surely go mad.
"Kio."
"Honestly, I've seen you half-naked countless times before – how could you not let your old roommate be apart of such a priceless –"
"Leave, Kio."
Kio huffed with, what Soubi could only assume, was to be a pout of some kind. He gave Soubi a begrudging frown before untangling himself from his very stern and bothered friend.
"Fine, fine, I'll wait out here then," he complied resentfully, sulking over to the couch which he plopped himself down upon. "Go on . . . take your bath, or whatever sick perverted thing you do in there."
Soubi sighed, turning his back on Kio as he made his way towards the bathroom. He was already quite familiar with the old diatribe coming from Kio, but he still muttered under his breath, "Kio, don't be sour."
Kio's cry of outrage slammed against the door as Soubi shut it behind him.
---
He let the sigh drain from his every fiber, pulling tautly through his veins before releasing softly from his lips. The steam that rose from the water of the tub soaked into his skin, seeping through old scars and sore muscles.
Soubi allowed himself a smile, a little one, and relaxed slowly in the tub, feeling a pleasant enjoyment of being submerged so peacefully in his bath.
He chuckled, letting his head fall back against the cool stone rim of the tub; and the difference in temperatures against his skin elicited a small satisfaction of pleasure in him.
This, right now, was bliss.
But if Soubi had learned anything over the past few years of living with Kio, it was that bliss never lasted for very long at all.
The sudden, uncontrollable crashing of pans and cups erupted through the air, shattering the silence and disrupting the once mellow airwaves.
Some one howled in fury. Followed by a colorful stream of enraged cursing.
Soubi felt that twitch in his brow return.
Silence.
A stomping of feet – definitely coming closer – and then the bathroom door slammed open, causing the little medicine bottles in the bathroom cabinet to shudder in their stuffy confinement.
"Sou-chan!"
Soubi bit back the urge to slowly sink beneath the surface of the water, now shifting uneasily around his narrow torso.
"What the hell is the matter with you, Sou-chan?" Kio demanded, confounded and annoyed as he glared down at the young man lounging, now tensely, in the tub beside him. "Did you booby-trap your cabinets or something!?"
Soubi silently thought to himself that if perhaps he simply kept his eyes closed and did not respond, Kio just might give up on trying to reason with him and storm on out, allowing Soubi the peace he had so rudely interrupted.
Of course – no such luck.
"What happened, Kio?" Soubi sighed, the tone in his voice displaying his obvious disinterest in Kio's urgent plight.
"What happened? What happened?"
Was there a reason that Kio felt the need to repeat himself twice?
"Why the hell did you set up some crazy rigging device on your cabinet draws?!"
Soubi signed inwardly.
Youji and Natsuo – it had to be at least one of them. Why they were implanting traps in his kitchen was beyond Soubi's comprehension, nor did he care to attempt to make sense of it all either.
"Kio, did you make a mess?"
The blond huffed at him, flabbergasted.
"I nearly broke off my thumb!" he exploded, shoving his wounded digit down into Soubi's face.
He sighed again.
"You did make a mess."
Kio's jaw dropped and he sputtered for a full minute, thrusting a hand through his hair in an attempt to prevent himself from grabbing Soubi's shoulders and shaking him. But that of course would have only irritated Soubi, and Kio didn't particularly want that at the moment. A little sympathy wouldn't have hurt though.
He sucked in a long ragged breath through his teeth, pursed his lips together as he allowed all his infuriation to crest within his ribcage . . . and then let it out, heavily and in defeat.
"Never mind," he muttered, ". . . baka."
The corner of Soubi's mouth twitched in amusement.
"I have some bandages in the medicine cabinet, Kio."
Kio shot a begrudging glare in Soubi's direction as he trudged over to the mirror above the sink. The fact that Soubi still had not bothered to even acknowledge him by opening his eyes still irked him.
"Of course you have bandages," he grumbled, "You always have bandages. You have enough bandages to wrap up every patient in a hospital ten times over. When the hell do you not have bandages!"
"Kio," Soubi said, "you're sulking."
"Damn right I'm sulking! And you would too if your best friend completely disregarded the fact that you nearly lost your thumb to the treachery of two little conniving brats! I'm an artist, Sou-chan – I can't afford to lose my thumb. You might want to consider that obvious piece of information in that pea-brained skull of yours."
Soubi suppressed a chuckle.
He could hear Kio gripping, the tearing of the bandages, and more gripping; and then the final slam of the medicine cabinet door as Kio finished.
Soubi allowed the pleased smile to settle back upon his lips. Now that Kio was bandaged and finished, he would leave and Soubi would be able to resume his peaceful bath time once again.
Seconds ticked by. And then minutes.
And Soubi began to realize that Kio had still not left the bathroom.
He opened his eyes reluctantly, thinking that maybe Kio was just waiting for some sort of recognition before he chose to leave. But Soubi was instead met with a pair of very bothered and impatient blue eyes as Kio stood at the foot of the tub, glowering down at him.
Soubi didn't even want to ask. But he did, against his better judgment.
"Yes, Kio?"
"I want payback."
"Excuse me?"
"For my hurt thumb."
"Kio, I did not hurt your thumb --"
"Don't even think of giving me that – you owe me payback."
"I don't think that's the word you're looking for--"
Kio growled at Soubi, cutting him off again with, "It's your fault!"
This confused Soubi very much, so he responded with a very perplexed inquiry of, "How so?"
"If you had just allowed me to come in here with you from the beginning, I never would have had to go through your cabinets, thereby never almost losing my thumb."
Soubi sighed, and unable to help himself, let his head fall back against the rim of the tub in suppressed exasperation.
"Fine, fine . . . Kio," he finally resigned, "What do you want?"
Kio's whole face brightened, his arms dropping to his sides. He didn't even try to conceal the excitement in his voice as he asked, "Really? You mean it? Anything?"
"Yes."
Soubi was sure that if he just complied to Kio's request ( maybe he wanted to paint him nude? He could deal with that, modesty had never been an issue for Soubi ), that Soubi would finally be able to resume his precious bath time. He did not have very much time left – Ritsuka would be home soon and he had promised to take him to the carnival that evening – so every valuable minute counted.
So when Kio's long fingers tangled themselves within Soubi's tied up hair, he jolted in surprise.
"Mou –"
"You said 'anything,' Sou-chan."
"Hai – but what are you doing?" Soubi tried to twist his head around to Kio, who was now sitting behind him and skillfully pulling the string from Soubi's ponytail.
"I am going to wash your hair, of course."
Soubi felt himself at a loss of words. He tried to tell himself that there was a perfectly good reason for Kio's actions, but he was having a very difficult time understanding this logic. No one had ever wanted to wash his hair before – not even Ritsuka – so Soubi suddenly began to feel very . . . odd inside.
". . . nande?" Soubi asked cautiously.
Kio chuckled, and gave a playful tug at Soubi's pierced earlobe.
"Baka, Sou-chan," he teased, "haven't you ever wanted to wash Ritsuka's hair before?"
Soubi still didn't understand.
"Kio?"
Kio shook his head in amusement, running his hands through Soubi hair. Now that it had been released from the restraint of the string it was once again free and smooth around Soubi's shoulders. He threaded his fingers through the silken strands, feeling them coil around his knuckles, and he pushed his hands up across Soubi's scalp, scraping his nails against the surface.
Soubi's breath hitched in his throat.
There was a pleased smile in Kio's voice as he mused, "Eh, you like that, Sou-chan?"
Soubi shook his head. But it wasn't a No. It was more an attempt to clear his thoughts, which had suddenly muddled in his brain.
"Having your hair washed is a very pleasurable thing, Sou-chan," Kio told him proudly, satisfied at being the one in control.
"Forget it, Kio," Soubi informed him.
"Eh?" Kio's hands froze in Soubi's hair, and he pounced. "Like hell I will, Sou-chan! You said I could do anything to you and I damn well intend to! It's like not I'm asking you to have sex with me, Sou-chan – damn you!"
Soubi felt the tension returning to his muscles and reached back and abruptly caught Kio by the wrist.
"Alright, Kio," he surrendered, his voice not bothering to rise above Kio's overly exaggerated tones. "Alright, alright, I won't stop you."
Kio ceased immediately, and then let loose a shout a triumph.
"Wai! Arigatou, Sou-chan! Oh, how you'll love me for life once I'm done with you!"
Soubi thought quietly to himself that Kio probably could have come up with a great deal of other things that he could have used to "woo" him with -- all very good ideas that did not involve disturbing Soubi while he was in a warm, deliciously relaxing bathtub.
He sighed again, letting his head fall back into the cradle Kio's long prodding fingers provided for him.
Kio wanted to wash his hair? Soubi couldn't quite understand this notion of Kio's – there was nothing seductive about it -- if anything, it seemed like more of a chore than anything else. Just what satisfaction could Kio derive from such a task? Wouldn't Kio have wanted to rather wash . . . his body? Soubi was naked after all, and had already promised he would not resist whatever it was Kio wanted to do with him. So why had Kio chosen to simply wash Soubi's hair?
The more Soubi thought about it, pondered it, the more his head began to hurt. And, to his dissatisfaction, made him realize just how disappointed he was by Kio's choice. Which was just plain confusing onto itself – why would Soubi be disappointed with Kio for not wanting to touch his body? Did Soubi not normally refuse all of Kio's sexual advancements towards him?
Soubi's chest rose and fell heavily in weary frustration.
Nothing ever made sense for Soubi anymore. Not that it ever did in the past, but Soubi was used to not understanding then – that wasn't what was expected from him – obedience without questioning was what was expected from Soubi. But now, now was different . . . Soubi wanted to understand. He wanted to understand the things around him, the decisions made by his companions – what was so special about carnivals, or . . . washing some one's hair . . .
It was only after Soubi murmured the word aloud that he realized he was still laying in the tub, and that Kio was behind him, threading his fingers through Soubi's foamy hair with slow and deliberate strokes.
Soubi's scalp tingled with each pass of Kio's hands; the sensation traveling down the front of his neck and spilling across his chest . . . causing the muscles in his abdomen to tighten deliciously.
Soubi opened his eyes rapidly, startled by the strange and unpredictable reactions coursing through his body by Kio's touch.
He swallowed hard, and shifted against the wall of the tub. Why was he suddenly so self-conscious about being alone, naked and perhaps vulnerable, in front of Kio?
Kio's chuckle brushed teasingly across the sensitive patch of skin behind Soubi's ear; and a muscle in his neck jumped in response.
Just what was this strange feeling . . . ?
Heat pooling low in the pit of Soubi's stomach; an infection – sweet intoxication, straining through his veins, igniting the tiny cells in the tips of Soubi's dangling fingers – and this heat was creeping all around Soubi now, clouding his vision.
All from Kio's touch?
Ah, but those devious fingers . . . so skillfully curling into Soubi's hair, threading slowly, massaging Soubi's scalp as those long fingers entangled themselves through Soubi's mused hair. Foamy suds dropped from Kio's hands, landing on Soubi's tense shoulders and sliding down the shuddering expansion of his chest – naked, gleaming tautly.
And Kio was much too close to Soubi, leaning into him, his lips feathering the pale skin of Soubi's jaw.
Just when had Soubi become so riveted by the sensation of Kio's masterful hands? When had he titled his head further back into Kio's eager caresses? yearning for more, his throat arching in sweet delight . . .
Kio laughed.
"Enjoying yourself, Sou-chan? See, I knew what I was doing when I said I wanted to wash your hair – feeling naughty now, are you?"
Soubi started, every muscle in his body tightening. And he lifted his head abruptly; the pulse at the base of his throat flickering wildly.
"Ah—"
Kio's laughter split through the air. And Soubi's flesh hummed in greedy response for more.
"Sou-chan?"
"Hm?" Soubi's throat had constricted, causing his voice to sound odd to his own ears; he was sure Kio noticed it too.
No response.
There was a rustling of clothing, and Soubi's eyes slid downward, waiting.
Kio's hands were in his hair again, and that rush of blood to his scalp captured Soubi's senses once again. His lips parted soundlessly.
"Just why are you so scared, Sou-chan?"
A small frown.
"I'm not scared, Kio," Soubi replied. So why couldn't he control the quiver heating low in the pit of his belly?
"Aa . . . you are," Kio replied smoothly. He leaned against Soubi now, allowing his right hand to drift from Soubi's hair and dangle precariously down the front of Soubi's naked chest. The tips of his fingers danced along the side of his ribcage, only to be snatched in an iron grip scant seconds later.
Kio laughed, delighted by Soubi's reaction, at the way the muscles in Soubi's taunt stomach tightened reflexively to Kio's bold caress.
"You are scared!"
Soubi's voice betrayed the tense emotions battling inside of him as he responded again with, "I am not."
Kio chuckled, and gave a little tug of his hand, feeling Soubi's fingers loosen only slightly around his wrist.
"Eh, what is it then? Saving yourself for Ritsuka?" Kio scratched his entangled hand upon the spot on Soubi's scalp where his ears would have been. "A little too late for that, don't you think?"
Soubi did not respond, but the tension in his delicately strong fingers relinquished slightly, and he allowed Kio to slip his hand free. An obvious mistake, as Soubi would soon come to realize.
Kio's breath shifted away from his ear as the blond settled back into his chair.
"Is he good, Sou-chan? I can be good too; I know just what to do to make you squirm beneath me. You should really take me up on my offer – I can show you a hell of a good time."
Soubi didn't doubt this. He had often thought about what it would be like to let Kio have his greedy way with him; what it would feel like to be toyed with by Kio's dirty fantasies; to be seduced . . .
So just what was it that was holding him back? Ritsuka? Yes, of course Ritsuka . . .
Kio was rambling on about something; but Soubi couldn't hear him anymore; he had fallen into his own thoughts – silent, reclusive. His skin felt stretched upon his lean frame, his veins pulsing just beneath the surface, thudding in his skull; and the nape of his neck tingled deliciously upon each careless stroke of Kio's fingertips as he teased his fingers across Soubi's scalp.
This was becoming unnerving. Far too pleasurable to be safe anymore. And yet, it was also . . . delightful. Soubi was enjoying himself – this attention lavished solely upon himself – the dangerous heady excitement elicited by Kio's lips, whispering into his ear.
The muscles in his neck jolted, as if licked by electricity. Teeth – hard, demanding, tugging for attention upon the downy flesh of his pierced ear.
Kio.
He was breathing something against Soubi's neck, nibbling with fervent desire as his lips traveled along the underside of Soubi's jaw – and Soubi wasn't resisting. He titled his face upwards, inviting Kio to taste more – more.
"Aa –" Soubi's words caught in his throat as that hot fiery spoke flickered from between Kio's open mouth, tasted the small well of his throat.
Soubi was sure his flesh had exploded into a canvass of singeing flames.
Kio chuckled, but it sounded muffled in Soubi's ears. He was losing himself -- in a fog, drowning in Kio's scent; his bones melting from Kio's raw touch.
Just what was happening to him?
Oh, but how he wanted more – don't end this sweet intoxication, don't leave me begging; helpless.
"What's wrong, Sou-chan?" Kio murmured, a devilish smile teasing his husky voice.
Soubi gritted his teeth. His hands gripped the edges of the tub in desperation, the cool stone rim riveting to the heated cells trembling through his palms.
"Hm . . " Kio flattened his hand upon Soubi's slick chest, "Like that," he coaxed in satisfaction, feeling the way Soubi arched up against his palm. And Kio's lips slid back into a smile upon Soubi's collarbone.
"You taste good, Sou-chan. I bet you taste good all over. Especially . . . there." Kio allowed the teasing accentuation in his voice to imply just where it was on Soubi's body he wanted to place his mouth.
And Soubi knew just where it was; just the thought alone made him respond without his control; caused the blood to pulse there with even more ardent yearning.
Soubi fought the mounting urge to writhe beneath Kio's touch, refused to allow the sounds pressing against his lips to release into the air.
When had the room become so suffocating? When had it become so difficult to breathe?
"You like this, don't you, Sou-chan."
How delicious . . .
"Do you think you can resist much longer? Let me give it to you, you know you want it."
Kio slid his hand down further, splaying prodding fingers along Soubi's ribcage, the narrow tilt of his hips that rose up to meet Kio's fingers, down . . . His other hand had left Soubi's foamy hair, and now that wiry arm was locked gently yet securely around Soubi's neck; binding him to Kio's chest.
"Let me taste your lips, Sou-chan," Kio urged his friend. He was speaking of one thing but delving towards another; and his fingers inched closer to that object of desire, "I bet they taste so sweet . . . I want to feast on them, right now."
Soubi strained against Kio's arm, against the scrape of Kio's teeth across his neck.
"Nicotine," he rasped. Anything to distract him.
Kio's fingers paused from their descent.
". . . nani?"
Good God! Kio's fingers were moving far too excruciatingly slow! Much too slow – much too slo--
Touch me! Now – there –ohpleaseohplease--
"Nicotine," he bit out, his lips parted; and his widened pupils had become transfixed upon the spinning blur of the ceiling above him.If only – if only . . .
Kio's hand was upon him now, curling deliciously around his straining desire.
Soubi bit back a cry; jerked against Kio's long encircling fingers -- struggled for control as they gently squeezed.
Oh, this was becoming dangerous. Maddening.
Soubi never wanted it to end.
And Kio's strokes were a mantra, a rhythm set out to ensnare Soubi, disarming every protest from his mind -- to draw him to that precipice, to cast him over the edge --
"My mouth," he gasped, dangerous!
"Hm . . . ?"
"tastes—" Soubi's eyelids were locked fiercely in concentration, every nerve ending straining, fighting the pinnacle that threatened to consume him, "—like nicotine."
And he shuddered, that flash of glorious white exploding behind his eyes in sweet release.
Weightless . . . floating . . . He heard Kio's moan of satisfaction mingle with his own. Soubi licked his trembling lips.
Kio's hot open-mouth kisses trailed sinfully upon the delicate arch of his throat, and he murmured pleasingly against the strained tendons in Soubi's neck.
Soubi's mouth was parted, his lungs starving for air; and as he drew in uneven breaths, he found himself marveling at the taste of salt in the air, wondered if it was perhaps from his own sweat. And he found this to be strangely amusing, a ragged chuckle echoing from his lips.
Kio, you little devil.
There was a trace of self-pride in Kio's smile as he pressed his face close to Soubi's face, feathering his lips across the high arch of Soubi's cheekbone, his brow, the supple flesh of his lower lip; murmuring incoherent words as he waited for the lingering tremors to subside from Soubi's body.
He nuzzled his lips against Soubi's brow, impatient, wanting more from Soubi. He had yet to claim that generous mouth with his own, to feel the luscious curl of Soubi's tongue around his own.
"Sou-chan"
Soubi closed his eyes deliberately, feeling that calm slowly seep through his body once again. But the instant it settled he became restless again; he too wanted more; his body was already a tangle of nerves, inflamed with a hunger to unite in that tremulous ecstasy with Kio.
So dangerous . . . what had Kio let loose in him?
A door slammed open in the apartment, echoing from the front room, and Kio jumped, breaking away from Soubi.
The moment was shattered.
Ritsuka's voice hollered through the apartment, and Soubi heard Kio grumble a mixture of resentful words behind his ear.
Soubi chuckled.
"Damn it," Kio muttered, rising to his feet. He glared at the door, as if his gaze would actually be able to push Ritsuka back out of the apartment.
Soubi had pushed himself up comfortably against the curve of the tub; lapsing gracefully into his old, passive self once again.
Kio, however, hadn't recovered with a much dignity as Soubi had somehow managed.
Still grumbling, he bent down to plunge his soupy hands into the water of the bathtub, his fingers skimming against Soubi's thigh for one last touch. His blue eyes darkened up at Soubi, who was peering down at him with a trace of subdued amusement. "You know that kid's got the worst timing," Kio told his friend begrudgingly.
The corner of Soubi's mouth twitched, his warm eyes still slightly hazy from the arousal he had experienced only seconds ago.
"Hm."
He twisted the handles of the bathtub, fresh water spilling from it. Bracing his hands on the bottom of the tub, he arched his back, allowing his head to tilt far enough back until his scalp was fully submerged by the rushing water.
"Don't be sour," he told his friend, feeling the suds of his soapy hair rinsed away by the bathwater. He rose to his feet, shivering slightly as the cool air nipped at his warmed naked flesh.
"And you're not?" Kio replied, somewhat unnerved. His cheeks flushed suddenly at Soubi's casual disregard for being so exposed.
Kio glanced up at him, his eyes sweeping in a fleeting gesture of longing over Soubi's long and painfully elegant body as he stepped from the tub. Water ran in rivets down Soubi's pale limbs, accenting all the lovely secrets of Soubi's body – the slight concave of his abdomen, those slender thighs gleaming firmly beneath the glistening water; his --
The blond resisted the urge to wail in protest as Soubi retrieved a towel from the door and calmly wrapped it around his narrow hips, once again hiding himself from Kio's hungry gaze.
Soubi chuckled to himself as a small growl of frustration echoed behind him.
A small rapping of knuckles upon the bathroom door.
"Soubi? Are you in there?" Ritsuka called, and Soubi could hear the curiosity in the boy's voice. No doubt he had noticed Kio's belongings on the couch in the front room, even though there was no Kio actually present in there.
Soubi concealed the amusement of his sudden predicament by replying mildly with, "Hai, Ritsuka, I'll be done soon."
Kio huffed behind him, crossing his arms over his chest as he eyed Soubi with obvious contempt.
Soubi arched his brows inquiringly.
"Nani?"
Kio snorted, thrusting his hand through his hair.
"I vote you tell Ritsuka you're sick and stay in here with me. I'm not finished with you yet, and I'm sure as hell that you weren't finished back there either. Here – I'll take the towel for you."
Soubi laughed softly at Kio's assertion and gave a bemused shake of his head, his long hair shifting along his shoulders in wet strands as he did so.
"Arigatou, for the washing, Kio," Soubi replied, "But I'll keep the towel, and I am finished. I need to change now."
Kio scowled, narrowing his eyes at Soubi as he passed him by, the word 'Bastard' brushing across Soubi's neck as he reached for the door handle.
"Kio."
Still upset, Kio didn't bother to turn around to face him. Instead he replied testily, "What?"
He yelped in surprise when he felt Soubi's slender fingers curl around his wrist, halting him.
"Kio."
A tremor shuddered through his bones at the sound of Soubi's voice – lowered, deeper, somehow so enthralling . . .
Slowly, Kio turned.
And there was Soubi, standing opposite from him only a few feet away; with his arm stretched out to cover the distance between them, bending towards him in a way that caused him to peer up into Kio's shocked face.
"Kio," Soubi coaxed softly, his slender eyes dark and smoky; sly.
Kio's heart was in his throat now.
"Don't you . . . want your reward?"
Kio swallowed.
"For what?" he rasped, his gaze frozen down upon Soubi's face.
Just when had their positions become reversed?
A slow smile.
"For pleasuring me."
And then those lips were upon Kio's in one swift, fluid motion.
Kio gasped, or at least, he attempted to; but Soubi had parted his lips and inhaled deeply, sucking the breath from Kio's lungs, leaving his helpless, shuddering.
Soubi possessed a mouth soft and yet earnest in its quiet demand; shifting across Kio's lips, his tongue slipping between them to curl sumptuously around Kio's.
Molten heat mounted and surged low in Kio's belly. And with a growl he locked his arm around Soubi's waist and yanked him hungrily against him.
He felt Soubi chuckle into his mouth, which only fueled the fire, scorching his rationale; and he parted his lips further, devouring Soubi's tender mouth with reckless abandon.
Ah, what delicious ecstasy – with Soubi's hard frame molding against Kio's wiry figure; trapping him against the wooden door.
Kio whimpered, low in his throat as he felt Soubi's thing settle snuggly between his legs. He gripped the towel hanging loosely from Soubi's hips, curled his fingers around the material – tugged.
Soubi's free hand enclosed gently around his wrist.
"Iie," he chided softly into Kio's mouth, halting him. And he felt Kio's frustration vibrate through his chest.
How cute.
"That's your reward, that's all you get," he whispered.
Kio's arm wound stubbornly around Soubi's neck.
"No," he mumbled, his breath hot across Soubi's mouth. "More. You bastard."
The corner of Soubi's eyes crinkled in mirth.
He lifted his arm, reaching around his own neck to curl his fingers around the hand of Kio's arm that refused to relinquish its hold upon Soubi. Slowly he peeled it away, allowing Kio's hand to drag down his bare chest apologetically as he did so.
He suckled on Kio's plump lower lip, teasing the supple flesh with his teeth as he gradually withdrew, waiting for that final moan to bubble from Kio's throat and into the air.
Satisfied, pleased, Soubi finally released Kio's mouth from his own completely.
Kio's body shuddered against his own, his head falling back to rest against the door.
And Soubi gave a little bemused smile.
"You were right," Soubi told his friend, untangling himself from Kio's body with a bit of reluctance of his own. He ran his tongue along his lips, tasting the lingering flavor of Kio's mouth, and savoring it.
He turned away, raising his hands to his hair as he once again tied up his mused strands into a slightly disarrayed ponytail.
Kio opened one blue eye, arching his brow. He still hadn't moved. Didn't want to.
"Eh?"
At first Soubi didn't respond.
Seconds ticked by. Minutes.
Kio frowned.
And then Soubi turned, only slightly, allowing a pleased smile to grace his lips for Kio to see.
"Having one's hair washed is a very pleasurable thing indeed. Let's do it again sometime, ne?"