Of Blizzards and Kindling
Author: Hakanaki
Author's Notes: This is what I am calling in my head the Twelve Days of Daikeru. All of the chapters will be titled after Christmas songs!
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, or the rights to any of the songs used.
Chapter 1: Baby, It's Cold Outside
I really can't stay-
Baby, it's cold outside.
I've got to go away-
Baby, it's cold outside.
This evening has been-
So glad you dropped by…
So very nice…
I'll hold your hands; they're just like ice.
"Daisuke, seriously, if I don't go home, my mom will kill me! We have school tomorrow!"
Takeru stood awkwardly half in the entrance of the Motomiya apartment. One of his feet was shoved into his boot-the wrong boot, he realized with dismay-while the other was still braced on the wooden floor of the hallway. He would normally be much more graceful at putting his own shoes on, but he had a growth attached to his back that smelled of cinnamon.
Daisuke snorted into his boyfriend's hair and tightened his grip. "We are so not having school tomorrow. There's already, like, ten centimeters of snow out there and it's still coming down! The trains won't even be running, so they can't have school!"
"But Dai, we don't know that…" Takeru said patiently. With a sigh, he gave up on his shoes and fixed his balance by stepping wholly back into the apartment. As if he hadn't just been wrapped around the blonde boy, Daisuke stood behind him, grinning. Takeru hated to burst his bubble. "Daisuke," he said again, putting his hands on his hips. "I have to go home now."
The brunette's response was to pout. It was unfair, really, since they both knew that Takeru could never resist. Nonetheless, he tried. He returned the adorable look with what he hoped looked like Yamato's bored expression. Daisuke continued with the puppy eyes.
After a few moments of silence and staring, the brunette laughed and clapped his hand on the shorter blonde's shoulder. "You should stop trying that face. It does not work for you, my friend." Then he turned away and walked into the kitchen.
A little embarrassed that Daisuke knew exactly what he had been trying to do, a red faced Takeru stood there for a moment, then sighed and gave in.
"Can we have hot chocolate?"
"I thought you'd never ask, baby." Daisuke, while only average at most of their school subjects, loved English. His favorite thing to do with it was use random phrases and terms that he gleamed from old reruns of American dramas. His most favorite thing to do was inflict said terms on Takeru.
"Don't call me that," was the automatic response. Takeru decided that at this point, he wasn't really a guest anymore, and forewent any modicum of politeness and took a seat at the table, leaning over to rest his head in his arms. This week had been long, and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep off the remainder of the cold he had caught last weekend. From Daisuke.
After setting up the water heater and two mugs of cocoa mix, Daisuke stood behind the hunched figure and leaned over him for an awkward, sloppy hug. His hands reached out to Takeru's own loosely curled ones, but flinched back almost immediately.
"Your hands are so cold!"
Slowly, Takeru raised his head from the table. He rubbed his hands together absently and shrugged.
"See, this is why you can't go home," Daisuke said with an air of authority. "You're already sick, it's far, and it's gonna take you twice as long with this snow! You should stay here where I can take care of you."
Takeru opened his mouth to tell him that he was capable of taking care of himself, ready to continue their own private banter, before he realized that Daisuke was only half joking. He stared at those serious brown eyes for a moment, and then gave a sheepish half smile. "I'd be okay," he countered weakly
The brunette gave him a look and then shook his head, padding back into the kitchen. "What would you do without me?" he remarked loftily. Takeru rolled his eyes and put his head back on the table.
The next time Daisuke returned, he had two cups of cocoa with a half a glob of whipped cream in them. They looked amazing. "You have whipped cream in your house?"
Daisuke grinned. "Mom's cake had whipped cream on it. I just borrowed," he replied. "Let's go watch TV!"
The two teenagers relocated to the couch in the nearby living room. Like clockwork, they moved into position: Daisike slouching with his arm thrown over the back of the seat and Takeru leaning against his shoulder.
"See? Isn't this nicer than freezing to death on the way home?" he goaded, taking a sip of his drink. The weatherman on the screen announced that the storm was going nowhere anytime soon and to avoid traveling.
Takeru rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "Yeah, yeah..." he admitted, blowing on his hot chocolate and taking a tentative sip.
This...
"What did you put in this drink?" he exclaimed, looking up at Daisuke's ear.
The brunette turned to him, but instead of the triumphant grin Takeru had expected, Daisike looked hesitant. "Just some cinnamon... You don't like it?"
The blonde smiled and sat up fully. He leaned in and kissed his boyfriend, running his tongue over his lips and savoring the flavor. "I love it," he murmured when he pulled away. It reminds me of you." He took another sip of his drink and looked up when he heard the clink of Daisuke setting his mug on the table.
The brunette stole a kiss and didn't let him go this time. Tanned hands rough from athletics found their way into his hair and Takeru made a small sound and opened his mouth into the kiss. He hadn't finished swallowing his drink yet, and the mixed flavors tasted much better shared between them.
He broke away only to set his cup on the table and turned back into Daisuke's embrace. The lingering cinnamon infused chocolate on their lips was intoxicating. Daisuke maneuvered the blonde into his lap and sucked on the sensitive spot beneath his ear.
"Ah... D-Daisuke..." he whimpered, fingers forming a loose fist in spiky locks a color somewhere between chocolate and cinnamon. The needy sound goaded the boy on, and he made a noise like a growl, one warm hand edging its way up his shirt. Takeru responded by snaking his own fingers under his boyfriend's collar, tracing lines across his chest.
He could feel how badly Daisuke wanted him against his own groin. Daisuke's hands ghosted over his sides and he rocked into his hips unconsciously. The brunette broke away from Takeru's neck with a gasp. Their eyes met, darkened with desire. Tanned hands found purchase on the blonde's hips and he thrusted. The sensation, even through his clothing, sent waves of pure pleasure through his body and he reciprocated. They broke eye contact only to kiss again, this time needier.
They could go all the way, Takeru realized hazily. Daisuke's parents were out of town, visiting Jun at her university in Kyoto. They had nothing but privacy.
As if Daisuke read his mind, he lurched to the side, taking Takeru with him. They maneuvered so Daisuke was between his legs, hands back under his shirt and ghosting over his nipples. He felt drunk on the sensation.
He whimpered as Daisuke assaulted his neck again, his hands gripping into the brinette's shirt to pull it up. When his hands met bare skin, his boyfriend hissed, then sat up quickly, hands impatiently undoing buttons while fixing Takeru with a dark stare.
As Daisuke's tanned chest was revealed to him, Takeru felt himself becoming shy. Daisike was toned from long hours at soccer practice, many of them as the captain as of last spring. He himself had quit basketball upon entering high school. Not that it had ever done him any good; he remained too skinny to even fit into most of his brother's outgrown clothing.
Oblivious to his insecurities, Daisuke shrugged his now open shirt off of his shoulders and began working on te blonde's. Takeru tried to distract him by running his hands over the newly exposed skin on the brunette's shoulder blades, but this only served to make nimble fingers go faster down the line of buttons.
When at last the pesky uniform shirt was open, Daisuke wasted no time in pushing it away so that it splayed out underneath the blonde. Takeru flushed, embarrassed of his chest, flat and undefined, but Daisuke looked awed.
"You look like an angel," he said roughly, tracing a hot line over his collarbones with his tongue.
Takeru didn't get a chance to reply as Daisuke's tongue swept ruthlessly lower on his body. The heat lingered briefly at his left nipple, a hand coming up to tweak the other one. The blonde arched into the contrasting sensations and drove his arms around Daisuke's neck, fingers massaging the side of his neck.
He kept moving. Liquid flames from his chest in messy swipes down to his navel. A brief suck earned a whining keen from the pale boy and he arched, bringing his still-clothed erection into contact with Daisuke's thigh. The brunette moved down further until he lay with his chest against Takeru's hips and his lips poised above the waistline of his pants.
They made eye contact again, panting, and Takeru nodded numbly. He couldn't believe this was happening.
Slowly, without all the previous rush, calloused fingers reached for the button on his pants. They toyed with the skin-warm metal for a moment, almost as if hesitant. Seeming to make up his mind, Daisike pressed another kiss to Takeru's soft underbelly and undid his pants with one hand. This was really it.
Then the phone rang.
Both boys froze, Daisike breathing hot air onto Takeru's sensitive stomach and Takeru with his hands tightly fisted in Daisuke's hair. Neither moved.
It kept ringing.
"You should get that," the blonde whispered shakily. "It could be important."
"If it's important, they'd leave a message," the spiky haired teen muttered, but did push himself up, running a hand through his hair and mussing it further.
He padded into the hallway, and Takeru listened, pulling himself up to sit.
"H'lo, Motomiya here," came the distinctly annoyed greeting. Then Daisuke was silent for a moment. "Of course. Yeah, he's already here. Okay. Okay, I'll let him know."
Takeru blinked at his boyfriend owlishly when he came back into the room. He watched as Daisuke took in the scene of the blonde kneeling on his couch, shirt open and falling off of one shoulder, button undone on his pants.
He restrained himself long enough to say, "That was your mother. She told me to ask you why you even have a cellphone if you never use it. Also, you're spending the night." He paused.
Takeru only smiled. "You win. I guess I'm staying."
"Bedroom. Now."
So I finished this late! The goal is to do one of these every day until Christmas. We'll see if I can keep to my own schedule!
I don't think this one needs any culture notes. Except that most Japanese families do not keep whipped cream in their houses regularly, which is why Takeru is surprised to see it.
Until next time!