The Chapter 23 canon kiss. Drabble.
'Why are you crying?' Yashiro asked in surprise.
The last thing, the very last thing, he expected was for Doumeki to kneel before him on the wet bathroom floor.
He could barely remember the jarring, broken words from earlier, both his own and Doumeki's. The pain in his arm and the shock of Doumeki's erection and the cold flare of anger it brought forth - that familiar desire to hurt - had all rushed straight to his head. That was his only rationale for why he had fallen apart at the seams. Why he had stood for a few confused moments beneath the running water with his clothes still on.
And why he couldn't bring himself to push Doumeki away, properly, when he pulled Yashiro close to his chest in an embrace that made no sense.
He simply didn't understand the gesture. He knew, though, that the smell of Doumeki, the cheap soap and the musk of him, had invaded his senses so completely that he could do nothing more than stare ahead, wide-eyed. He was seeing the cracked tile on the wall opposite, next to the door which Doumeki had eclipsed when he entered.
He eclipsed most doorways, Yashiro thought idly, his mind steadily growing numb.
Doumeki meanwhile was still caught somewhere in the middle of Boss' words.
I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of what it might do to me if I lose you.
Boss was there, on the floor of his bathroom, slightly dazed and still beautiful and vulnerable for the first time that Doumeki had seen him. Vulnerable in a way that he hadn't been even when he lay in a hospital bed or when he had stumbled about afterwards, once even falling into Doumeki's arms. This was different.
The rest had come without Doumeki's consent. The tears and the kneeling. And the desire, foremost in his mind, to finally make Boss his.
Yashiro felt him pull back and his heart beat out a gratingly loud rhythm that drowned out all else. His eyes remained open when Doumeki's lips pressed against his for the very first time.
He forgot to breathe. He tried to pull away.
'Th-that's not -'
But Doumeki kissed him again.
Protests smothered. Eyes still open. Doumeki everywhere.
'Do -'
And Doumeki pushed forwards so far that Yashiro's eyes closed and his hand curled on Doumeki's shirt.
'Mmph -'
His tongue was warm. His smell was warm. His shirt was warm.
And Yashiro clung to it.