Anchor

Written by: RinoaDestiny

#6 - Strange

"You're a strange one," he said, a thought spoken even he traced the back of Iori's neck with his finger. The redhead shivered at his touch but didn't turn around to face him. Past the long falling hair, towards the top of his spine, Kyo let his finger complete a circle around the tangible vertebra. Iori made a sound and Kyo stopped, as if marking the little he was permitted to know of his lover's body at this time.

A growl, followed by pages turning, the sound crisp in the silence between them. As Iori's book closed, the other turned to look at him, reaching out to grab his extended finger. Kyo met his gaze, seeing an unspoken challenge in it.

"Strange? How so?"

He doesn't pull his finger away; instead, watched Iori, reading the subtle shifts in his expression. "You know how normal this is?"

"And that makes me strange?"

"You go baying for blood during tourneys. That's what people see. What they remember. This…" He glanced around, gesturing with his line of sight. "This is normal. No one would believe it."

"That's their problem, not mine."

"Yeah, well…if anyone had told me Iori Yagami spent most of his time reading and doing normal stuff, I'd be surprised."

"You shouldn't be by now."

"Obvious. I know." He tugged his hand; Iori let go, still watching him. "Why do you do that anyway? Get all bloodthirsty during the tournaments?"

"Don't like being there," Iori said, as if it explained everything.

"You're always there, though."

"Don't like the others. Just about you, Kyo."

"That, I know." Years of being stalked by Iori – even during his ordeal with NESTS – cemented that fact. "Will this…change anything?"

"Your friends still annoy me."

The mild irritation in Iori's face amused Kyo. He snorted. "Beni doesn't like you, either. Daimon doesn't really care."

"Daimon's a fucking statue. Does he blink?"

"Go ask him."

"Hell no." All pretense of reading put aside, Iori leaned in closer, angling over the back of the couch. "Just want him out of the way."

"So no changes, then?"

"I didn't say that." Familiar and yet unfamiliar territory. Iori's voice was deeper and lower. "When we fight, it's just us, Kyo."

"So what's the difference?"

"Now that I'm not out to kill you," Iori said, closing the distance between their faces. "Tolerating your friends might be possible."

"Might," Kyo said, grinning. "That's not a guarantee."

"Tch. Stopped chasing you, haven't I?"

"Only 'cause I've been coming after you." Iori's apartment was a small, yet comfortable spot. The other man was relaxed here – it being his home – and Kyo was able to disengage from his concerns while in the other's presence. It was strange – finding quiet and calm with his former rival – but then again, wasn't that even true of the night that led them here? To where they were now, gazing at each other?

"So you're stalking me."

He didn't realize Iori could crack jokes, however dry his tone was. "Don't think it's quite the same."

"Perhaps not."

He leaned forward, his shadow obscuring the crimson-brown of Iori's revealed eye. "You know what else is strange?"

"What?"

Instead of replying, Kyo brought his hand up and around the back of Iori's neck, fingers curling gentle over warm skin. Once again, the other man shivered as his touch brushed past bone. "That, Yagami." How vulnerable the man could be, if he let himself. It was something only he saw, Kyo believed. Strength and – not quite softness (that wasn't the word he sought) – along with trust. Iori trusted him and from there, they could find their way together through this beginning.

Were on their way to doing so.

"Kyo?"

"Yagami?"

The redhead pulled him close, hands in his shirt. Yanked him over the couch. There was the sound of something hitting the floor. It was soon forgotten.