Warmth
-he was gone.
Sho's feet echoed Reino's, staggering, falling back against the wall. Koga's back was to him, ramrod straight. His beautiful hand, so careful with their coffees, hung by his side, knuckles cracked and bleeding.
"Why could you— I wasn't—" Sho faltered, his eyes staring wildly at the door Reino had rushed out. "I tried, so many times, and I couldn't—"
"I had something that I knew was worth protecting," Koga said, his eyes watching Sho cautiously. He took a step forward, his hand lightly touching the back of Sho's, asking permission to unfold.
Sho's eyes widened, filling with unspoken fear. "Me. Oh god, Koga, no— I'm not worth it—"
Koga shook his head to silence him, his hands reaching up to draw Sho close, filling his vision. "Shut up, idiot. You're Berry Boy." He pulled back just far enough to be able to look into Sho's eyes, his words transient over Sho's skin. "Of course you're worth it."
"I hate that nickname," Sho said, the words a whisper. Koga was so close; tilt his head to the side and he would be able to feel his cheek press against bare skin. Koga sighed. His breath smelled like peanuts. Sho could feel his mind starting to short-circuit, craving impulsiveness. He forced himself to be steady. "I hate my real name, too."
His nose brushed against Sho's, a gesture Sho's mom always called a penguin kiss. "Names are just a label. You are more and less… you're burnt toast and cheap puddings, Tokyo midnights and the raw chord transitions of a self-taught artist." Sho could feel the ghostly kisses of his eyelashes brushing against his temple. His exhale was shaky and unfettered.
"Shotaro," Sho said, a nervous laugh escaping him. It was all too clear now, like Koga's simple words had shined a spotlight on the hole in Sho's defenses. He couldn't protect himself against Reino because he hadn't wanted to. Not himself - he'd been driven to protect his reputation, his craft, even his old friend, but never once own up to who he really was. He'd lived out the act for so long he wasn't sure how to dismantle it, but finally, desperately, he wanted to try.
Koga's lips pressed against his temple, their warmth spreading through to the core of his being as he wrapped his arms around him. "My Berry Boy," Koga said, the words said with a whisper of teasing laughter that felt more like a lover's confession to Sho than any Shakespearean sonnet.
"Why do I get all the embarrassing nicknames?" Sho demanded playfully, his hands winding around Koga's back, tingling with the joy of exploration.
"Mmmm," Koga murmured, his lips pressing against the dent just below Sho's ear, making Sho's breath hitch. "Because you're the embarrassing one."
Sho balled a fist and tried to punch him, but the angle was all wrong and it ended in a slightly awkward thump to Koga's back. Koga laughed. "See?" he said, poking Sho's nose gently.
"What's all this about owning myself and then calling me embarrassing? Mixed messages, you dick." Sho pretended to pout, but his mind couldn't move far enough past the way Koga's eyes looked like they were flecked with silver from this distance to actually be irritated.
Koga drew near, his mouth so close Sho could feel his body coming alive to the anticipation. "I said my Berry Boy, didn't I?"
Then some glorious how they were kissing; raw, real need coursing through his veins and surely into Koga's, everything funneling into the desperation of desire and the simplicity of knowing he was his, this man, all firmness and angles and sharp words, and Sho was melting under his touch like chocolate.
Every movement was a re-creation. The room felt like it was opening, widening again, losing the imprint of pain because he was here, and he was his, and Sho's thoughts were circling the words "oh God," over and over because what else was there to say? And then it ended, cheek pressed against cheek, moving still but quieter and he could tell Koga was thinking.
He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Koga and burying his face in his shoulder. He didn't want to hear his questions, but he wouldn't run.
"Why?"
That could mean so many things. Sho waited, unwilling to make the path of answers himself.
"What did he do to you?"
He hugged Koga, willing time to just pause. Stop right where it was and not force him to stand back and bare wounds more emotional than physical. Words flew in and off, discarded, not right. He could sing him a thousand songs, but to stand here and say it fell short.
Sho straightened, gently pushing Koga back a step. Koga's face was lined with concern, his hand outstretched already trying to draw Sho back in.
Sho shook his head, then, chewing on his lip in anxiety, slid his shirt up and off. He threw it over on the bed and stood before Koga. Koga's eyes fell, drawn down by his action. Sho watched as they widened, then narrowed, filling with cold anger. His arms trembled with the need to wrap around and hide himself.
"It's stupid. They're just marks. But he— I couldn't—" Sho's voice caught on the shame and doubt warring within him and he stalled. Koga shook his head, his eyes darting from mark to mark as if he were counting them.
"You know how many times I tried to get away? I finally stopped trying." He couldn't watch Koga's eyes anymore, not while he was sharing this, but the words were clawing to get out. "It turned into some sort of dog and bitch relationship. He'd show up just to remake the marks deep enough to be seen then disappear." Koga's fingers trailed over his collarbone, making him shiver, drawing his words out from where he'd buried them deep in the memory. "Almost made it worse— he just wanted to taunt and tame me, didn't actually want me." He grimaced, swallowing something sour back down his throat.
Sho wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as Koga watched with burning eyes.
A kiss, gentle as air, on the darkest mark just over his heart. Koga's voice, murmuring against his skin, barely heard but burning into his soul.
"I want you, Shotaro."
And then he was being pulled to the bed, tumbling down beside him as Koga's hands ran smooth over his skin, carving trails of warmth searching out every single bruise. He would pause and run his lips over the mark, whispering Sho's given name like a prayer.
He was crying. Tears ran unasked for down his face as he stared at the same ceiling where he'd lain and wished to see him. He reached down and touched his curls, gasping as lips pressed on the sensitive spot just below his ribs.
"Koga," he said, holding him tightly. Koga nuzzled him, rolling him over to lay against his back, side by side on the bed.
"Shhh," he whispered, his fingers still moving gently over Sho's torso, remembering each spot. His head rested in the nook of Sho's neck, curls tickling the skin just below his hairline.
Moment by moment, Sho let himself relax and slowly drifted to sleep in his arms.
Sho woke the next morning nestled inside Koga's hug still, his face slightly sticky from the warmth of his skin, a warmth threatening to pull him back under to dreams. He'd slept tucked deep into the crook of his body, snuggled up between his chin and shoulder. Koga shifted and suddenly Sho was wide awake, his heart racing as images of his position flashed through his mind's eye. He felt a heat building deep within him that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
He buried his head in Koga's shoulder, hiding from his embarrassment by burrowing farther into it.
He was gay.
No, bisexual.
Sho smeared his face over Koga's skin. Labels, labels, labels— people always wanted a label! Koga's hand pressed into the small of his back, drawing Sho's gaze to see two amused gray eyes watching him.
Label it whatever you want. He was in love.
"Do you want breakfast?" He managed to mutter. He was sure his face was on fire.
"Mmmmm," Koga said, tilting his head in consideration, Sho still wrapped around him. "Yes, but only if you don't cook it."
A swat was necessary. Sho pushed up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed and stretching languidly. Jeans were uncomfortable to sleep in but everything else felt so… good.
"There's no food in the place anyways," Sho said, tossing the room phone at Koga. "Order room service."
Koga dialed and started listing off requests to the concierge. Sho grabbed his phone, pulling up his messages.
Koga's phone started to ding with alert after alert after alter. He missed a word on part of his order, attention drawn irresistibly to the manic device. "What the…?" He said, then back to the concierge. "No, no that's all. Fifteen minutes is fine."
Koga reached over and grabbed his phone. He looked up at Sho, eyes curious beneath furrowed brows.
"I…" Sho paused, blushing. He sat on the bed next to Koga, fiddling with his own phone. "I've been… thinking of you. I just didn't know… I didn't want to bother you, so I never sent them."
Koga shifted to look directly at Sho, one hand holding his phone and the other rising to gently cup Sho's chin, his thumb caressing Sho's jaw as he read.
"Don't drink too much, you ass— nice. Thanks. That would be a waste of time. Who the hell parties without daiquiris?"
Sho's face was burning. He turned his head ever so slightly, pressing his lips against Koga's palm. "I know, right?" he whispered. Koga dropped his hand, shifting again to lean back against Sho, his curls tickling Sho's chin.
"I never slack. You're a bastard for implying I do. You're the— hah!" He sat up, the bed swaying beneath his sudden move. "You drunk texted me!" Koga roared with laughter, punching Sho playfully. But Sho knew the rest of the message and waited, watching for Koga's reaction. There— the tips of his ears. So that was where he blushed first. He reached up and brushed his fingers over Koga's ear, tucking a curl behind to see more clearly as Koga read the last message.
"I missed you too," he murmured. "Idiot."
"Now you sound like Kyoko," Sho said, laughing.
"Does that mean you have a type?"
Sho growled and tried to tackle him, wrestling him across the room. "Yeah— lovesick morons!"
"Oh-ho! It tries to snipe!" Koga had him around the neck, his arms a playful vise.
"Tries! You ass—"
"Come on, you can be more creative than that Berry Boy—"
"I'm going to kill you—"
The doorbell rang; the two men froze, a comedic duo of bedhead-clad wrestling stooges.
"Room service? Hello?"
Sho shoved Koga off and ran to get the door. "You better have gotten something chocolate, bastard!"
Two steps from the door and Koga's shirt hit him in the back. He turned, a retort on his lips dying as he saw the tenderness in Koga's expression.
"I thought…" he trailed off, gesturing at Sho's torso.
Sho blushed, shoving the shirt over his head with a thankful nod. It smelled like him.
For the first time, he didn't mind all the bruises.
