Smoke rose from the ashtray on the floor, cradling one last cigarette where it spent its final moments.
On a heap of balled up sheets and covers Mikoto could not stay still. He moved things around several times over: a pillow here, there, thrown across the room with an irritated grunt. He'd roll over, try to curl up, try to stretch out, tried everything. The floor futon was just spacious enough to accommodate all his tossing and turning on that bitter winter evening. At least it wasn't the nightmares. Not anymore.
It was just that he couldn't get comfortable.
So he laid back with a huff, watched the ceiling carefully and tried to fend off any kind of conscious thought. The Red King's chest – bare above a pair of well-wrinkled flannel pants – rose and fell with each raspy breath. Sometimes he felt too tired to do even that much. Existence was tiring. There was nothing worse than thinking, worrying.
No. There was nothing worse than the absence of sleep.
All while a figure draped in a blanket shroud roamed the apartment. And sniffled.
A bump sounded in the dark, then a yelp, then a whimper. Totsuka managed to collide shin first into the room's one and only sidetable.
Still recovering from the sharp pain, he reached for the lamp he'd almost knocked to the floor to turn it on.
"Leave it," King growled and rolled over to face him. One of his legs fell lazily off the edge of the futon.
It took a moment or so for his vassal's eyes to adjust to the pallid light coming through the glass door on the other end of the room. Only concrete and night sky peered in on them from outside.
"Easy for you to say," Totsuka's hesitant laugh was shaken by the shiver in his voice, "when you can practically see in the dark like a lio-"
"Hmph." Mikoto interrupted. He knew what Kusanagi liked to compare him to. It was becoming increasingly annoying as the habit spread to others.
"Well, that. And the cold doesn't bother you much either."
Fact: there were people who were hot natured, and then there was Suoh Mikoto in his own league of personal climate control.
Totsuka flapped the ends of the blanket over his arms like clumsy wings. He'd spent a long time in the- thankfully warm- shower and hadn't bothered to fully dress. Bundling up should have been enough with just a sweater like this at his own place, but he'd miscalculated here.
"Since this isn't really working out," Totsuka tensed up both shoulders, "guess I should go put on a few more layers. Maybe I could borrow something..."
"Y'still cold?"
King propped himself up on both elbows, hair sticking up on one side. Late to notice anything as always.
It wasn't much of a surprise. The kid was thin enough for the even the slightest chill to go right through him. Unfortunate once he started spending a great deal of his time with a guy who never bothered to pay for heating in his apartment. Or much else.
"It's at least 40 below in here. Bet it's warmer outside." Totsuka's complaints always sounded too light-hearted to be actual complaints.
"Then use it."
His vassal fidgeted and pulled the blanket a little tighter around himself. What King meant was unmistakable.
Totsuka wasn't very good at waking his aura yet. It was embarrassing and he liked to avoid things that made him seem incompetent. Being able to pick up so many talents took a toll on his ego when he couldn't get something just right.
But Mikoto's stare was insistent- bordering on terrifying- through the dark. A direct order. Is he finally starting to accept his role?
With a serene, concentrated smile Totsuka knelt down on the futon and cupped both hands. He took a moment to rub them together to get the numbness out. His shoulders were tense so he relaxed one after the other. He tried ignoring the fact that his feet were practically frozen solid. Totsuka had to curl then uncurl his toes just to make sure they could still move.
After the long delay he readied himself mentally. Mikoto grumbled something, not understanding why this would require so much effort; the ability came as easy as throwing a punch to him.
Totsuka drew a deep breath and felt the buzz of energy at his core.
Prod at it. It should come to life.
Within a few moments he had a wisp of flame in the origin of his palms. It lapped upward, asking for more fuel.
Instead of looking down at the fruit of his efforts he snuck a glance at the flicker of light reflected in King's eyes. Those eyes remained unimpressed but once illuminated they twisted a knot of something pleasant in his gut. All of King's focus was on him; Totsuka wanted to show him something worthy of that attention.
"Am I doing this right?"
The little bud of flame struggled to take some kind of shape just before dying completely.
"Tch. Pathetic. C'mere."
King's lazy voice coiled around and tugged him in. Mikoto must have known- had always known- the kind of things he could do to his vassal with that voice alone.
Obediently Totsuka moved closer. On all fours.
The blanket fell from his head and skinny shoulders.
Urged closer.
A hand on the mattress, another pressed down on fabric warmed by flesh underneath.
Closer still.
Until, by no fault of his own, he ended up climbing into King's lap.
And suddenly Mikoto was seeking a cure for his restlessness. Totsuka's touch was a tranquilizer of the strongest kind, one perfectly developed for his own physiology. His alone.
And suddenly Totsuka could feel the cold in the room raise its hackles and shrink back. It was afraid of King.
In that smooth shift when they dropped the curtain meant to protect them from the world, from anything that could take advantage of the fact that the weakest link in the chain was the key to the Red King's undoing, they could be together. The danger in it remained unspoken between them. It always would. But they knew.
Frail legs twined around Mikoto's hips. A protective embrace found its way around him in return.
The lesson was simple: Power is strongest at its source.
Where his own chest pressed against the other's Totsuka could feel that source. Its roused beating only livened when he squirmed in King's lap. Soft flannel felt so nice on his almost-bare thighs, he couldn't help it. At least Mikoto seemed to like when he did so.
They kept these kinds of lessons well under wraps. It wasn't difficult, especially with Mikoto being so unaffectionate on the usual (catlike in more ways than one). Not that this bothered Totsuka; it always felt like the natural order of things. They were, in essence, unlikely but steadfast friends to everyone's knowledge. But maybe one day, when there was nothing left to lose...
Totsuka let his mind wander off into bliss. It took a steady hand to grab his face and force back his attention. He puffed out his cheeks where they were held.
"Now-"
Despite their closeness and the way one steady arm cradled Totsuka's back in support, there was no change in Mikoto's serious tone.
"-try it again."
In the little space he made between them Totsuka cupped both palms again. He kept his eyes down this time. This time he would visualize the exact shape he wanted to create. Yes, that's it. Something simple.
Picturing wasn't enough. Once Totsuka tried to force it the flame wouldn't come.
The second attempt earned a dissatisfied scowl from King, but that wasn't all.
Hands came to settle on Totsuka's waist. Just... there. Just feeling how receptive he was – very much so. Sensing the current of energy.
Until they began to rub, squeeze, urge down below his narrow hips and back again, slow in their ministrations first before building up momentum. He tried moving with them. Fingertips massaged his back in gentle circles, looking for his "on" switch.
Totsuka sighed just as those hands slipped under his sweater to ignite more warmth and play across delicate skin. The contact was enough to make his insides flutter.
Mikoto's expression was almost amusing in its severity. As if he were disengaging an explosive. Determined to make this work, he pulled his vassal in closer by the waist. Totsuka's eyes were still affixed to his own palms, equally hopeful.
The wisp of flame flared up again, but bigger, brighter this time. It was enough to light most of the room and would dance and flicker according to his will.
"King, King look! Lo-"
Another mouth dipped into his own, silencing Totsuka's excited chirp, tipping him back, prying him open. Well taught, his tongue granted submission to its superior, but moved eagerly once he had a good taste of his King.
Mikoto held Totsuka's pinkening face in both hands to make sure the depth was perfect for drawing out what was within. The delicate motions of Totsuka's tongue against his were almost too inviting to be real; he tried to match them but ended up playing a little too rough. Teeth sank into tender lower lip.
And, as if doused with gasoline, the energy roared to life within his vassal. A brilliant set of wings fanned out from the flickering little body formed in Totsuka's palms.
Just before it could be crushed too tight between them- naturally the space closed quick- the bird of flame lit into the air. It couldn't stray far from the origin, and so fluttered in aimless patterns around and above. With eyes sealed shut they couldn't notice how the light from its etherial tail trailed out behind, almost liquid in motion, or how its remnants- falling ribbons of red aura- hung in the air a moment before dissipating. It hovered and waited for the breaking apart.
The effect was there, still working its magic when eyes opened to find each other again. Totsuka relaxed, feeling King's moist breath still tickling his cheek. The last flecks of light from the tail faded in thin air when the bird came down to rest on Totsuka's shoulder. It sidestepped to nestle against the curve of his neck and it bathed them in its strange light.
Mikoto had yet to let go of his vassal's face. He couldn't remember the last time the kid's eyes looked so wide, accidentally hypnotic in their color and naïveté.
"Had no idea it could do that," he teased and ghosted a thumb over Totsuka's lower lip. It would be a shame not to investigate this new development further. But there was so much else that begged exploration. He had no intention to conceal his growing hunger...
"Neither did I." The smaller voice replied, overcome with awed happiness. It took Totsuka a moment to realize how tight he was clinging to the one who held him in turn.
Please don't let go.
"Your hands are really warm," Totsuka said instead.
"No shit."
Mikoto fell into him, slowly but completely giving up. And caused the room itself to fall, though into darkness.
The little phoenix would not witness the full effect of the spell it cast.
'My pretty chain'
The thought had a fondly bitter taste as he gazed over the work of art his hands and teeth and tongue had created of his vassal. It hadn't taken long to get him all but falling to pieces. Heavy panting made Totsuka's chest heave beneath the layer of wool covering him. Mikoto wiped away the wetness from his own lower lip with a forearm.
Each of his clansmen represented a shackle of responsibility. They were the bindings that tied him down to the unforgiving earth. He would come to have chains upon chains tangled up in each other.
But this one... this one was wrapped so tight around his throat. Sometimes Totsuka made it impossible to even breathe.
A rough grasp on a handful of blond hair pulled him up to fully expose the tender, bite-marked flesh of his neck, and further back to gain access to the more tempting lower parts.
Another firm hand pressed against his inner thigh caused Totsuka to instinctively part his legs more.
The little pair of boxers he wore beneath his sweater were no match for his superior's will. A whimper of equal parts shyness and anticipation escaped him once Mikoto had them halfway down.
Against the soft fabric of his sweater's hem, Totsuka's arousal peeked out, twitched and caused him to writhe before it was even grasped. Mikoto pressed close enough to keep him from the cold's reach. Nothing and no one would touch what was his. Possessive grunts of kept rhythm as he palmed his vassal's length and cupped and kneaded a handful of his ass all at once.
"Mmn-..wait! I'm.." Totsuka's panting ended up choking him up completely. By then there was already a thumb rubbing the slit at the head of his cock, in the process of driving him out of his mind.
Mikoto deadpanned and gave a deliberate squeeze, "Wait 'til I'm fucking you senseless or what~"
That was enough. With a moan so unlike himself Totsuka melted, unable to keep the rigidness in his body to hold himself up in King's lap. Eyes closed, he felt himself lowered until his back was enveloped in the futon's softness. The chill in the room reached him for a moment before the heat of a more powerful body draped over him.
"Y'still cold, brat?" Words echoed from earlier dripped with suggestion where King nuzzled them close to his ear.
Totsuka's eyes tended to flutter whenever he lied, "Y-yeah. Freezing."
Mindlessly, Mikoto growled and shoved his hips harder in between the blond's thighs. Then again. He tongued Totsuka's ear, leaving it dripping wet once he dragged his teeth across the lobe to mark there too. Heels dug into the small of his back.
Watching Totsuka tremble under him as if gripped by fever chills was beyond satisfying; letting him feel and want for his King's size and well-curved shape, clothed first.
In desperation Totsuka's heels pushed down– hard. Loose flannel slipped low enough to free Mikoto's lower half. Full exposure shot tingles of relief straight up his spine. A sudden arch in Totsuka's hips caused a perfect little brush with heaven between them...
"Shit," Mikoto groaned, biting at thin air.
Their erections rubbed together with the repeated motion; all the stimulation turned King's body completely, alarmingly stiff.
A hand reached up to tangle in the hair above the nape of his neck while Totsuka stroked up and down his back with the other, humming softly, like a child.
"Mm'sorry," came the brat's calm apology.
What a thing to say.
They were locked this way until Mikoto had control of his senses again. He shook off the paralysis, kissed his vassal's neck and reached for the switch on that nearby lamp.
"So you don't mind the light now," Totsuka's breathy voice only served to entice the other's need. With a tiny sniffle he tried pulling the sweater down to cover himself, not bothering to hide the obvious once-over his eyes were giving King's naked form. He buried his feet in the covers warmed by their combined heat.
Mikoto was already wearing a cocky kind of 'why bother' look once the bulb flicked on.
"Wanna' see you better."
They took a thin moment admire each other in what little light was shed. Only before the need to touch and be touched grew irresistible.
King was all concentration once Totsuka welcomed him back between his thighs. He couldn't imagine a more forgiving place, with creamy soft, pale skin rubbing against his own, wanting everything of him. Another smoke-laced kiss asked fordeeper, harder, more. Another contrived brush with pleasure. Hips rutted. Backs arched and fell.
With such good distraction going on Mikoto felt around for the small bottle he'd subtly dropped in the sheets after stealing it from the table. Unable to find it again right off, he cursed heatedly into Totsuka's mouth. The struggled search went on just long enough to be awkward until...
There.
The task of coating a hand with the damned stuff after finding it, however, was even more difficult once his wriggling prey was left undistracted and amused at his frustration. At least it was harder for Totsuka to giggle at him with a tongue shoved down his throat. He'd make sure the brat's mind was on his mouth instead of where a hand played around his entrance.
Then, a gasp. A struggled cry.
Mikoto leaned back to watch his work.
Slicked fingers moved inside and out, taking their time asking muscles to relax. Once he was all spread open Totsuka's face grew so flush with embarrassment at the whimpers he couldn't will down, how amber eyes were fixed where his body enveloped both fingers, the way King stroked the sensitive underside of his leg at the same time, trying to soothe his vassal.
"Easy, kid."
He shoved down impatience and leaned to place a lingering kiss on the inside of Totsuka's thigh. The gesture quickly turned to heavy licking and sucking once the most gorgeous noises started coming from under his mouth on saliva-slicked skin. There was too much untasted flesh to sink his teeth into. It smelled too much like honey, whatever the brat had bathed in. He scissored and curled both fingers within.
"There... King, it's so good," Totsuka whined and rocked into the pressure on his insides once the right place was reached. Toes curled, his entire body tried forcing downward, wanting more on its own will.
"That's what you want, huh?"
There was too much grin in that gravelly voice.
"You're so mean," Totsuka fussed in shaky reply.
"Behave yourself..."
Careful not to abuse that sweet place- yet- Mikoto pulled out despite the whimperings of complaint and propped the blond up again in his arms.
In rebellion Totsuka let a hand slip down between them to play just above the point of his king's pleasure; he was fond of the patch of red hair that crowned the base and gave attentive caresses to everything around what longed to be touched most. He leaned in close, noting the fracture in Mikoto's smug countenance once he exerted pressure back.
"If I promise to be good," Totsuka cooed, "can I have more of you?"
Feeling Mikoto's desire pulse against him only boosted his confidence. In one languid stroke he trailed fingertips all the way up the underside of his lover's arousal. Then down again to lightly fondle the balls, to the places where their thighs met, back to stroke and tighten around the shaft again. His tongue worked along Mikoto's neck quite the same smooth way. Like delicate torture.
A violent buck of the Red King's hips repaid his efforts, embellished with a carnal growl. The kind a cornered animal makes before lashing out.
No more waiting.
It was difficult enough for Totsuka to pull himself up into position with the curves of his ass relentlessly groped and spread and pressed against. The flesh there had become so wet to the touch, pliant and ready. Mikoto nosed the sweater's fabric up as far as he could to nip sloppily at Totsuka's chest. He couldn't keep his hands off for a moment.
Not even once his tip, then the rest of his length buried inside constricting warmth and got down to its work once Totsuka's body accepted him fully.
Something snapped then. Something always snapped, beginning the same cycle their lovemaking always took.
Any concept of restraint blacked out of Mikoto's consciousness and his body would move with the kind of inhuman strength fate had granted him. He plunged inside as deep as he could sheath himself, disregarding the choked out remnants of a cry that broke from his vassal's throat. Instinct caused a spike in energy that could be felt reverberating through flesh, through heated breath, through the very air around them.
A dangerous state for a king to remain in.
Totsuka struggled but failed to keep up with the violent nature of every thrust. Movements of his lithe body tried absorbing the shock, but the pace was all too much at once. Fucking him in rapid upward strokes, Mikoto bit down hard on his collar bone with a mounting need for control. Hands shook erratically where they clawed his waist and held too tight.
He'd never felt more helpless than in those moments King lost himself.
Fragile but never one to give up, Totsuka had learned the proper way to slow him down- grabbing handfuls of red hair from the back and raising up with what strength he had to make their eyes meet. Breathing deep. Totsuka flenched, gasped and winced at the pounding his ass was taking, but he held Mikoto's searing gaze without a trace of fear. Just held him there.
Amber eyes softened from their dilated state. Foreheads touched. Thrusts eased to a more passionate pace. Mikoto brushed fingertips up and down his sides, causing goosebumps that lead to more shivers. Totsuka's pleased moan was enough reward for his restraint.
It wasn't so bad... being tamed.
Once they settled into a mutual rhythm Totsuka liked to slide his palms down to King's shoulder blades to feel them roll under the skin. He'd always had a fixation with that part of his lover- the powerful upper back. The place his eyes always strayed to whenever Mikoto wasn't looking.
With muscles working overtime the sensation was even more addicting than usual. Whenever he'd rise before sinking back down on the slick cock reaching deep inside him, Totsuka would squeeze his hardest at the taught flesh there and cry out. Thighs quivered uncontrollably on both sides.
As pleased as he was with his performance Mikoto was after something else and getting more impatient with every push of his hips. It was suddenly all he could think about.
He could have sworn the steam from his own breath was visible. It really was that cold, everywhere except between them. Everywhere in the world.
The words left him just the same, like a dragon breathing smoke in the heat of greedy passion:
"Y'know what I need from you."
But he wouldn't get it so easily. Totsuka's pretty mouth hung open, too busy reaching for breath in gasps.
Hair clung to his face, over those gorgeous eyes and he'd beg
"Oh King~ my king, please..."
"Th's not it," Mikoto slurred with a groan just before the wet sounds below stopped.
Though his lower half plead a strong case against it, by then he'd pulled out completely. And waited while his heart pounded at some insane rate. A bruising hold on Totsuka's hips prevented the blond from grinding down like he wanted. So he struggled and mewled and made cute huffing noises, trying in desperation to relieve the aching need that churned at his center. Fists pushed hard against the bare chest that supported him.
Totsuka fought honorably to hold in what he was screaming in the confines of his head. But lost:
"F-fuck."
It was just loud enough to be heard. One trembling hand shot up to cover his own mouth.
"Close," Mikoto hissed. Hearing Totsuka curse in his gentle, feathery voice felt as unnatural as it was erotic. Like he'd made the kid break some sacred rule. The effect it had on Mikoto's senses was catastrophic.
A rush of force found the smaller male on his side, bent like a bow string to his superior's will. With one leg hitched over the curve of Mikoto's hip he rode out the jolt of being entered from the side. The room filled with cries mounting and falling in volume, the slap of flesh on flesh, sounds too animalistic to be coming from inside an urban apartment. Totsuka tried to quiet down, biting at his lip hard enough to break the skin, and made the mistake of peeking over his shoulder. Watching his own penetration proved a little too much to handle- embarrassed eyes quickly skirted over where they were connected- but he could stare up at King forever... love stricken.
Of course Mikoto noticed.
That look was always a knife in his gut. Even at a time like this.
Too much blind trust. Too much faith.
Why am I the one? Don't call me King... I don't deserve...
Rolling his hips and losing his senses in Totsuka's warm, tight insides was enough to block out the anxiety.
Don't think. Just feel him.
Grunts of effort left him in steamy huffs visible through the cold air. By then his body temperature had peaked well over that of a normal human's. Incredible heat licked out from every touch he gave his vassal. What would have been unbearable for anyone not wearing HOMRA's mark felt like heaven to Totsuka. He wanted that heat and fullness for as long as King could give it to him.
Mikoto reached to give Totsuka's exposed length a few good pumps of friction, causing it to drip heavily with desire for release and urging out another plea from equally wet lips.
Careful. He couldn't risk pushing the kid over the edge too soon.
No matter how matter how many ways they had to try- even if it took all night- he would have what he needed. Just once. He only had to hear it once.
The position shifted again. With more downward force Totsuka felt his front half pressed into the sheets while his lower was held up and grinded into with every ounce of effort Mikoto had left. The sweat between them made the rough gyrating of his hips a little smoother. Something like liquid fire welled up in Totsuka's core, so ready to spill over. His chest heaved. His inner walls tightened to keep in what was tearing him apart.
And King demanded through bared teeth,"Try again, brat. Try again..."
Three solid thrusts would hit their mark and gave him everything he wanted:
"Mmi...ko...tOH!"
His name exploded, sweet and rare, out of Totsuka's mouth on a guttural moan, along with his release. When it was always 'king-this' or 'king-that' the name had to be screwed out of him, and it had to be done just right.
Mikoto bucked out the pleasure seizing him in waves.
It took three syllables to undo the notorious Red King.
"That's it. Good boy. Goddamn, Tots'ka you're so fucking good~"
With that sentiment his appreciation spilled into his vassal's shuddering body and ran warm down his thighs. Coupled with the same sort of prying kiss that first gave the little phoenix life. The sealing of their warmth and their bond thicker than blood. Thicker than a lot of things.
Where he'd leaned over, Mikoto's lips stayed pressed to the corner of Totsuka's mouth just to feel its contortion as he came down, and so he was in the right place to watch honeyed-brown eyes peek open when it was all over. They were dewy with tears, seeking out his own like they were expecting some expressive miracle. That wasn't exactly what he got, but King was trembling too. He was trembling all over him. Their hands had laced together on dampened covers...
Mikoto heard his name repeated through the still silence that followed.
The pile of disheveled clothes and sheets became their den. Underneath two young lions could recover their normal pulse and breathing while the rest of the freezing world hushed around them. Mikoto was more than ready for the gorgeous sleep that always came right after coupling with his vassal. It went without saying that pleased him more than anything.
Too bad the younger still seemed to be in one of his curious moods.
While nuzzling against his lover's warm chest Totsuka became intensely interested in Mikoto's nipples and how they reacted to his gentle tonguing, kisses and bites. The little buds were growing bright red under his capable mouth.
"Tots'ka," issued the warning growl.
"But they're so cute-"
"Quit it."
It took a good deal of restraint not to smack the blond in the back of the head harder than he did. He was obviously not used to having attention in that particular area.
When King wouldn't play with him Totsuka settled for a place in his arms. There Mikoto resolved to keep him restrained long enough to settle him down (or at least keep from starting another round). Not that the younger minded. It was the nicest place, after all. Especially when King laid against his back and stroked the undersides of his wrists- the flesh there pure, frail under fingertips roughened by one uphill struggle of a life. Mikoto sighed. It was not getting any easier. With a growing clan more new additions meant more to pretend not to worry over.
Two pairs of eyes, growing heavier by the moment, settled on watching Totsuka's outstretched palm as it summoned his aura for a final show that night. This time it came without a fuss. The tranquil flame rose up in strands to take its shifting form. It was not bound to one shape in particular, but would become what it needed to be in order to soothe. Without really trying Totsuka already embodied that kind of light for anyone who cared to know him.
Aura was different. With practice he would eventually control the forms it took. It didn't seem like much. Something that enabled him to fight, he was sure, would be more useful. But he was thankful with every ounce of his fragile being.
'I know you're afraid sometimes. No worries, ok. I'm right here.'
Mikoto heard these things in Totsuka's shallow exhales, felt them brush across his skin. If he was just hearing what he wanted to hear, well, fine. Whatever. No one could judge him for it in the confines of his thoughts.
By then Totsuka was out completely. Stripped of his sweater, his naked, vulnerable form still depended on Mikoto for protection from the harsh outside world and its chill. Even with all that energy he'd still left King the last one awake.
A real injustice.
It couldn't be helped. Mikoto breathed in the scent of soft blond hair and left his baggage at the threshold between the waking world and sleep. Someone had to make sure the brat kept warm in his dreams too.
There is nowhere else for me but you.