"Are you dizzy?"
"No." That was clearly a lie.
Akihiko ran a finger up under Junpei's jaw and tilted his face back until he could see his eyes. They were unfocused. "Can you even see straight?"
Junpei refused to look at him. "Why do I have to?"
Akihiko didn't have a good answer to that. He only said, "You should take better care of yourself."
"Does that mean you're going to stop, then?"
"…no."
Junpei nodded, satisfied, and lowered his head again. Akihiko let him. What he was doing was probably about the most "wrong" thing he had ever done in his life. Junpei wasn't in his right mind. He couldn't consent to something like this. And they were doing it anyway.
Akihiko ran a hand down one burning side, counting each rib. Junpei's skin was hot enough that it was almost physically uncomfortable touching him. But the wool sweater had scratched against Junpei, and everything else had stuck to him, so Akihiko had taken it all off. Lying there against Junpei on the sheets that had been baked by his skin, Akihiko felt like he was surrounded by the same fire. Only the air on his back was still cool.
He hadn't kissed him, and Junpei hadn't asked. Somehow that would have made this worse. Instead, as his mouth confined itself to exploring the rest of him, Akihiko found himself surprised at how salty Junpei tasted. But after he reflected a moment, it made sense. Junpei had already drenched the sheets with his sweat.
After struggling the rest of the way out of his clothes Junpei had rolled partway onto his stomach, partially because he was overbalanced when Akihiko got into bed with him and partially, Akihiko thought, because he was shy. That was fine, but it made it hard to get to everything. He pressed his fingertips into Junpei's spine, running them down the length of it, to make him arch up. It worked better than he'd anticipated and he wondered if the fever made Junpei more responsive.
A moment later he decided he'd been right. He had barely slid one hand down to touch him lightly and Junpei's fingers were already dug into the sheets beside his face. Akihiko seriously considered then whether he should continue. What if he hurt Junpei later? Even in the ring, Akihiko never had a real desire to hurt anyone, only to win. Pain was reserved for his enemies. But by this time Junpei was into it and he very obviously didn't want Akihiko to stop. So, carefully, Akihiko wrapped his hand around him and went further, pressing harder and establishing a rhythm until he felt a solid shudder ripple through Junpei's body and then a moment later something slick and burning against his hand.
Akihiko froze for a moment, shocked. They were at the point of no return, now; the evidence of that was on his hand. His next thought was to wipe it off immediately, but as he looked around Junpei's room he didn't see anything he could really use to do that, unless he wanted to use someone's clothes. Then he looked down at Junpei and a new idea came to him. He moved back a little and slid his hand into the space between them. Junpei had subsided a little, but now he shivered again as Akihiko started to work him open.
Akihiko didn't really know how long he should do this, or how things were supposed to feel once Junpei was ready. After a minute or two though, it seemed like he wasn't as uncomfortable anymore, so Akihiko stopped and shifted his hips until the two of them were in place. He took a deep breath…and moved.
The heat surrounding him was oppressive and intoxicating at the same time. His eyes were shut tight and the sound of his own rough breathing sounded alien in his ears. He forced himself to stop--he was going much too fast--and looked to see how Junpei was taking all this. Junpei's eyes were shut tightly too, and after looking closer Akihiko realized he must have been on the verge of hurting him. Deliberately moving slower, he looped an arm around Junpei and pulled him a little closer. Akihiko began to say something into his ear, asking the most obvious question, when a knock came at the door.
Junpei probably didn't even notice, but Akihiko stiffened. He knew that particular knock. Before, he had always felt his heart speed up incrementally when he heard it (or maybe that was just an illusion), but this time he didn't welcome it. Breathing very deliberately and slowly before he spoke, he called, "Yes?"
"We're back." Mitsuru's voice was emotionless. "We…well, really I wanted to know if you wanted someone else to take a turn." Her voice now was tinged just slightly with something else…shame, maybe. "I don't think I was very fair…may I come in?"
Junpei had finally noticed something, possibly because Akihiko had stopped. "Who…"
Akihiko clamped a hand over Junpei's mouth and raised his voice again. "I'm sorry, I don't think that would be a good idea."
"Why not?" Mitsuru sounded a little irritated now. He knew what she was thinking: she had already made up her mind and admitted she had been wrong, so what more did he want?
"He's…" Akihiko's mind raced furiously. "He's been sick a few times, I'm changing his clothes right now. So, unless you want to help me do that…"
"Oh…" He could hear the blush in Mitsuru's voice. Sitting with a boy might still be within the realms of respectability for her, but taking one's clothes off was most emphatically not. "I…no. I-I'll leave you to it, then." Her steps retreated down the hall and he breathed a sigh of relief.
He came back to himself when he felt Junpei's labored breathing against his palm, and he quickly drew his hand away. "I'm sorry. …are you okay?"
Junpei got his breath back and then turned his face to look up at him. "Is it working yet?"
Akihiko knit his brow. "Is what working?"
"Dia…"
Akihiko frowned softly and ran a hand gently across Junpei's forehead. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"I heard Mitsuru-senpai talking…are we still fighting? Did we take it down yet?" Akihiko just looked back at him silently and Junpei went on, a little quieter, "…I didn't mean to keep you guys waiting…I'm okay now, though."
"Yeah." Akihiko rubbed the back of Junpei's head as he pulled out. There was no way he could continue now. Junpei's eyes started to drift shut again and Akihiko stayed next to him until he fell asleep.
Some undefined stream of seconds or hours later Junpei opened his eyes again. Mitsuru was sitting in a chair by the edge of his bed, reading, her legs crossed primly under her skirt. The room was light; he thought that it had been dark earlier.
Junpei sat up a little and rubbed his face. "Was…Akihiko-senpai…" He hadn't woken up earlier that morning when she had come in and roused Akihiko, telling him to go and get some proper sleep.
Mitsuru nodded. "I'm surprised you even remember. He was here last night; I came in to relieve him around seven." She paused and looked at him with obvious concern. "How are you feeling?"
"…I think I might be okay." Junpei rubbed his arms and looked around him. "Actually, what I really am right now is hungry."
Mitsuru smiled. "Are you? I'm glad to hear that." She got up, dusting off her skirt. "I'll see if we have anything, if you think you'll be all right on your own for a few minutes?"
Junpei nodded. "Oh yeah, I'll be fine…um, thanks." He watched her leave.
Then he settled back on the bed, wearing an uncertain frown. Out of the last twenty-four hours there were only a handful of seconds that he really remembered. He had thought his dad was in the room; that was a dream. He had thought they were fighting in Tartarus, and that wasn't true either, since Mitsuru-senpai had just told him that Akihiko was here with him all night. And he had thought…
Junpei straightened up a little. That other stuff about Akihiko-senpai…that had to be a dream. Although why he would have a dream like that was beyond him. On the other hand, why had he dreamed about his dad? Even awake, he didn't want to think about that bastard any more than was absolutely necessary. The fact that he had apparently had a vivid hallucination about him and Akihiko-senpai doing it just proved how much a fever could mess you up.
Feeling a little more reassured, Junpei let himself lie back again. Then he slowly turned his head, unconsciously influenced by some vague scent or element that shouldn't have been there. He stared at the pillow next to his face for several minutes before it clicked.
He reached up and touched something on the pillowcase, then carefully plucked it off and held it up to the soft yellow light streaming in from his window. It was vaguely silver but when he turned it, it looked white. There were one or two other hairs like it close to the spot where he had found this one.
By the time Mitsuru got back, Junpei had flipped his pillow over.