Title: Change
Series: Yami no Matsuei (Descendants of Darkness)
Rating: pg-13
Pairing: Tatsumi/Watari
Summary: Everyone needs a change once in awhile.
Warnings: Slightly sexual content, small amount of naughty language. Also a graphic description of the tongue piercing process, which may squick the squeamish.
A/N: This idea popped into my head while I was half-asleep. I wrote it at work. I own nothing except my piercings.
. . . . .
"Do you need something?"
He took a deep breath, then cleared his throat. You can do this, he told himself. You want to do this. You've thought it over for months now, all you have to do is--
"Sir?"
He looked at the girl standing on the other side of the counter. She couldn't be much older than Hisoka, but somehow she'd already found the time to put at least five extra holes in her face. He cleared his throat a second time.
"I would like to get my tongue pierced." When the girl merely continued to stare at him and chew her gum, he politely added, "Please."
She continued to eye him incredulously for what seemed like hours, taking in his suit. His tie. His perfectly combed hair. The painfully serious and dedicated look that he had plastered on his face to hide his nervousness. He cleared his throat once again, her cynical and calculating gaze beginning to make him feel uncomfortable. Perhaps this was a mistake.
"What's your name, honey?"
He shifted anxiously. "Tatsumi."
"Are you drunk, Tatsumi?"
He blinked in the most offended manner possible. "No, why?"
She ignored his question. "Have you been tweaking?"
"Have I been what?"
"Have you been doing any drugs?"
Tatsumi blinked offendedly again. "Of course not!"
The girl shrugged. "Didn't think so, but I gotta ask. We could get fined for that shit, you know." She turned and stalked toward the back of the store, past several shirtless men being casually tattooed, her faded blue hair bouncing slightly with each step. She turned to face him once she reached a curtained doorway. "You coming?"
He followed her quickly past the buzzing tattoo guns into a small room with a medical examination table pushed against one wall and a set of drawers full of various metal objects against another. She rummaged through the drawers, pulling out a pair of tongs and what looked like white envelopes of different sizes. Tatsumi had the sudden, suffocating feeling that he was getting in over his head.
"Sit," she commanded. "Up on the table."
Tatsumi obeyed. She continued pulling out tools. Washed her hands. Pulled on rubber gloves. Tatsumi still felt very overwhelmed, like the white walls would collapse on him at any moment, burying him under a pile of hand-painted skateboards and framed photographs of extreme body modification.
"I'm Jess, by the way," she said suddenly. "What made you decide to get pierced?"
"I needed a change," he responded automatically. She handed him a paper cup full of mouth wash.
"But why a tongue ring? Rinse for thirty seconds, spit, then answer."
Tatsumi swished the blue antiseptic around in his mouth, grateful for an excuse to think before he answered her. To think about his frustration, his boredom. With his job. His appearance. His love life.
He'd tried to brush it off as a midlife crisis, telling himself that he'd feel fine in a few weeks. That the restlessness and loneliness would pass. That having wet dreams about one's coworkers didn't mean a thing. That he was most certainly not attracted to a friend, a colleague. It was just that the long blond hair made him think of a pretty girl, and the warm brown eyes made him feel welcome, and the happy-go-lucky sense of humor combined with the stubborn intellectuality made him feel like he'd never met anyone quite like Watari-- in life or death.
He'd even tried to convince himself that he wasn't jealous of the scientist's unconscious flirting. Sitting on the edge of Tsuzuki's desk, bringing Hisoka coffee, or letting the Hokkaido girls braid his hair when they came to visit.
But who was he kidding? He was head over heels. And Watari still treated him like his boss.
Tatsumi spit the mouthwash back into the cup. The mint was refreshing. Clarifying.
"Well?" she prompted.
"Unrequited love."
Jess smirked. "It'll certainly get her attention." Tatsumi resisted the urge to correct her. "Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."
Tatsumi did as he was told, fingers gripping the padded edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. A pair of cold metal tongs clamped down on his tongue. Her painted-on eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and from what he could see from the corner of his eye, Tatsumi could tell that she had the needle hovering in place.
"Take a deep breath."
He sucked in a lungful of air, and as he exhaled, he felt a sharp pain, followed by the chilling sensation of metal sliding through his skin.
"All set."
He rolled the foreign piece of metal around in his mouth. It felt surreal, the adrenaline pumping through him only making his head swim more.
"Make sure you rinse with alcohol-free mouthwash after you put anything in your mouth," she instructed, pulling off her gloves. "That includes eating, drinking, smoking, and--" her eyes glinted slightly-- "et cetera. You've got a fourteen-gauge, three-quarter inch barbell in right now. Once the swelling goes down, you'll want to switch it to a five-eighths."
Tatsumi looked at her as though she was speaking to him in Swahili. "Switch to a what?"
She laughed. "Come back in a week so I can put a shorter barbell in. And your tongue is going to be swollen for at least a few days, so you probably won't be able to do any wooing 'till Monday."
. . . . .
"Hey, Tatsumi."
Watari looked just as beautiful as ever as he turned to face the secretary, the sun streaming through his laboratory window highlighting the blond hair that fell in loose waves around his face. Stunning, really.
"What brings you into the lab?" Watari leaned against his work table, his lab coat falling open to reveal a thin black shirt that did little to hide his lithe form. Tatsumi had spent the three days since he'd visited the tattoo parlor readying himself for this moment, this confrontation. Now that he was actually here, though, he felt he needed more time. Another hundred years, perhaps.
Watari cocked his head. "Tatsumi?"
Deciding that it was now or never, Tatsumi crossed the room quickly and without a word. As the space between them shrank, Watari's eyes widened and he tried to speak.
"Tatsumi, what--"
But there was no time. In one smooth motion, Tatsumi wrapped one arm around the younger man's waist, a hand around the back of his pale neck, pulled Watari's face to his and kissed him.
He felt the scientist stiffen slightly, obviously shocked. As the secretary's lips began to move, however, Watari began to relax and was more than happy to participate in the current festivities.
Tatsumi felt long fingers climb into his hair as Watari kissed back. The kiss was slow and smooth, quickly building in intensity as then two men expressed their long-hidden passion for one another.
Watari licked Tatsumi's lower lip, and the secretary almost squealed with excitement-- it was time to show the scientist just how exciting and unpredictable he could be. Opening his mouth to catch Watari's tongue with his own, he dragged the bitter metal across it slowly.
Watari inhaled sharply through his nose. His knees went slightly weak. Tatsumi pushed him against the table, pressing their hips together firmly and producing a quiet moan from deep in the smaller man's throat.
When their mouths finally separated for air, Watari had to lean against the work table for support, looking up at Tatsumi with a strange combination of childlike wonder and feral need.
"Is that new?" he breathed.
Tatsumi nodded.
Watari grinned wickedly. "Very nice."
"'Nice' isn't exactly what I was going for, but I suppose it'll do for now."
Watari chuckled. "Right... what made you do it?"
Tatsumi shrugged, allowing the younger man to fiddle with his belt loops, pulling their hips together again. "I needed a change."
"Hmm. You know what I need?"
"What do you need?" His reply was breathy-- perhaps because of the soft lips exploring his neck and the clever fingers undoing his tie.
Watari chuckled again, sending an enjoyable shiver down Tatsumi's spine. "I need you to put that thing to use in places besides my mouth."
Tatsumi grinned and lifted the blond onto the table. He was going to need a lot of mouthwash.
. . . . .
A/N: thanks for reading... reviews are totali awsim