Cigarettes and Sheets
"Fucking sun." Tokito absently struck at the offending daylight streaming in through the metal blinds of their bedroom. Pulling the sheets over his head, he squirmed farther under them, curling into a tight ball beneath their cottony smoothness. He lay there, breathing in the smell of shampoo and cigarettes, slowly waking up. The smells reminded him of his roommate, Kubo-chan, and Tokito wriggled backwards until he should have been able to nestle into Kubota's still sleeping form, but instead of the lean, yet well muscled back, he found air…and then the cold, hard floor.
"Kubo-chan!!" he hissed from under the tangle of pajamas and sheets on the wooden floor.
"Are, are. Wasn't the bed enough for you? I even tucked you in so you wouldn't miss me." Kubota's ever cool and collected voice sounded amused from the doorway. Behind the glasses Tokito saw that slightly annoying half smile of his, he was starting the morning off by teasing his little 'stray cat' like usual.
Tokito grumbled and randomly threw a pillow at the lanky figure. Of coarse it wasn't a real throw--that could be extremely dicey given Tokito's deformed hand and the almost super-human strength that went with it. Thinking of his hand made him glance down at it; he slowly opened and closed the claws, flexing the always too tight muscles, wincing as the blood started flowing through them again.
"Does it hurt?" Kubota's voice was soft and sultry in his ear. The slight movement of his warm breath made the small hairs on Tokito's neck stand on end.
"Gaah!! Ku..Kubo-chan?! What the hell!?" Tokito jerked away in shocked surprise and would have fled farther, but Kubota had his clawed hand in his own and was slowly massaging the furred flesh.
"No…D..o..n't…Ahh…" His original complaint was cut short but the steady increase in both pressure and heat that was coursing up his arm. Each movement created spasms of needle-like sharpness racing across his palm, but the warmth from Kubo-chan's hands dulled it, leaving the pain as a mere afterthought.
Tokito curled into Kubo-chan's shoulder, his breathing became ragged as his deep, blue eyes fluttered shut, enveloped in the sensations. Kubota's head rested against the top of his and with every breath Tokito drew in the ever familiar scent of their shampoo and Kubo-chan's cigarettes. Ever since the beginning, starting that very first night, this combination of smells, particular to Kubota, had helped calm him. The scent was familiar, yet distant, like the man himself. Tokito thought about who/what Kubo-chan really was and came back to the same word, over and over: scared. That quack, Kou, had said that he was Kubo-chan's "truth," he didn't really understand, but sometimes, like now, he thought that maybe it wasn't just him being soothed by this embrace…maybe, just maybe, Kubo-chan was truly peaceful during these moments as well.
Kubota glanced down at Tokito…he had one arm wrapped around the smaller boy, his fingers entwined with the furred ones of Tokito's animal-like right hand; he smiled at the memories that floated to the surface: the first few months when his touch had been feared, painful and despised, to the day everything came to a head and Tokito reached out to take his hand in his own. They'd come a long way in a year, but sometimes, when they were like this, or curled up in bed together, he just wanted to fade into Tokito, become one with him, maybe even disappear completely. But then the nightmares would come and they'd both be awoken to Tokito's screams and uncontrollable shaking. At those times, like now, he'd just sit quietly, cradling the sobbing figure until he calmed down enough to be put back to bed.
Tokito was fast approaching falling a sleep right there on the floor, wrapped in Kubo-chan's arms when something changed…his right hand was still entwined with Kubo-chan's left, but Kubo-chan's right hand had let go, and was now lightly smoothing his bedraggled hair. It was a gentle caress that shocked and pleased him at the same time.
As he whispered Kubota's name, he felt a slight tremor in his partner…
"Ku..bo..-chan…"
The way he breathed my name, like a feather-light prayer to some unseen God, I couldn't help myself. My name on his lips was my mantra, my one and only truth: that with him I was needed, wanted, no strings attached, no price too high, just totally, honestly wanted.
My fingers moved without any conscious direction on my part, sliding down his jaw line, slowly parting his lips and raising his head. Just a fraction more, a few centimeters and we'd be close enough to breathe the same breath…one in, one out. His eyes opened sleepily, just for a moment, and my heart stopped. He whispered my name again as they fluttered shut and that was it--my lips upon his', cigarette cold and forgotten on the floor, just the two of us and one, shared breath.
From there out everything was a blur of hands and lips upon flesh, both hungrily searching, needing and releasing. I lost track of whose were whose, only noticing when claws dug a little too deep; but even the pain, the sting of lips or tears on open wounds felt good, because it was a shared pain, now and forever, shared.
The day was fast fading when the pair stirred at last. Towards the end, as Tokito was falling asleep, Kubota had wrapped him in the sheets and carried him back to bed, settling him comfortably before crawling in next to him and lighting one last cigarette. As the smoke waifed through the room, he realized he wasn't shocked by what happened, but it still made him smile ruefully at his own actions, those 'games' they played would have new meaning now.
He snuffed the cigarette out and leaned over and lightly kissed Tokito's forehead before lying down and once more embracing his love. Tokito mumbled in his sleep and curled up closer to his side. He wondered what his little kitten would say when he woke up, and then shook his head, whatever happened from now on was something they'd decide on together…until one of them broke completely.