For Day 15 of Fic On Demand…
Even though it's summer, the flat isn't overly hot or muggy. The air conditioner isn't sluggish, and the room is pleasantly cool. The sounds of the city drift up from the slightly open door of the balcony. Kubota takes out a cigarette, and moves to go outside, but stops at the sound of Tokito's laugh, puts it back in the pack.
He turns around, and leans against the glass of the door, and watches as Tokito tries to chase melting ice cream down his arm with his tongue. Most of it ends up on the floor, and the rest is just a sticky trail on his skin. Kubota wonders if Tokito will hit him if he tries to lick it off.
"Kubo-chan," Tokito says, and Kubota can tell Tokito's in a good mood. "The ice cream was really good. You should have some next time."
"I had some this time," Kubota answers with a smile. "But someone stole it from me and ate it."
Tokito doesn't reply, but Kubota revels in the blush that spreads across Tokito's cheeks.
"What should we do today?" Tokito asks, and flumps down on the couch into an untidy sprawl.
Kubota shrugs. Doing nothing sounds just as good as doing anything and he's already doing his favourite thing. Tokito's still smiling, and he continues watching.
"I'm bored, Kubo-chan." Tokito pushes himself up enough to give Kubota the look he has when he wants something, and he feels as though Kubota is obliged to get it.
"Take a nap," Kubota answers, "it's too hot to do anything outside, and the air conditioner is working for once."
Tokito shoots him a suspicious glance, but gets up anyhow. "Sure…are you coming?"
"Since you asked," Kubota replies, and tosses his half-crumpled pack of cigarettes on the coffee table.
"Stupid Kubo-chan, I wasn't asking," Tokito yells, but doesn't do anything more to stop him from following. The bedroom is only slightly warmer than the living room. The bed sheets are cool and dry, and Tokito isn't calling him a pervert just yet.
Their clothes end up in a messy pile on the floor, and Tokito is underneath him, nothing but sweat between them. "Kubo-chan"
Tokito then rolls him over, straddling his waist. Kubota just lies there, still, and watches the way Tokito watches him. Kubota feels Tokito's hands trail over him and he almost jumps when he feels no leather, no fur, no claws, ten fingers, ten nails, ten perfectly delicious scratch marks down his chest.
He runs his finger down Tokito's hand, on each finger, each knuckle, and smiles. "Your hand."
"Stupid Kubo-chan," Tokito says, and smiles, comes, "of course it's fine now."
"Hmm?" Kubota tries to ask, but his body is tensing and Tokito's sweat and skin is plastered to his. He can't breathe and doesn't care.
Tokito's voice is in his ear, and hot breath on his flesh. "Kubo-chan."
Kubota wakes with a gasp, and scrambles for his glasses only to knock them to the floor. The flat, bed, is empty except for him, has been for weeks. He covers his face with his hand, and sighs. He needs a cigarette. He then reaches with damp fingers for his glasses before he changes his mind and leaves them on the ground.
He can't see a thing anymore, anyhow.
Prompt: A strong character crying.