Anchor

Written by: RinoaDestiny

#24 – Reassurances

Sunlight spilling through Iori's bedroom window behind him, the facing wall gilded bright. Red hair against a wrinkled pillow, a splash of color against white. It was a sight Kyo had seen before and would never tire of seeing. Asleep, Iori was relaxed with his mouth slightly open. Gone was the anxiety from last night – the nervousness Kyo hadn't seen in a while.

What had caused it?

There was a scar on Iori's shoulder, the blanket having slipped aside to reveal a clean white mark. Not one of his; instead, inflicted by a bladed weapon. Iori hadn't remembered who did it – there were other scars on his body – but apparently, the wound had bled and needed stitches. Kyo ran his thumb over it, the scar fading and then returning. Iori murmured, burying his face deeper in the pillow.

Kyo removed his hand, smiling.

Iori had wanted to know if they could share a hotel room during this year's tournament. If it meant waking up to this every morning, well…why not? Sure, it'd cause a stir but the upcoming chaos – it was inevitable – would soon overshadow the rumors. If the other contestants were curious, that was on them; Kyo wouldn't concern himself with what they thought. Also, Chizuru wouldn't have to worry this year about destroyed property or fights occurring out of nowhere.

Instead, their focus would be singular.

Iori made a muffled noise, turned, and flopped onto his back, arm swinging out. It caught Kyo across the chest, landing haphazardly onto the rumpled blanket. Pale skin with crimson hairs, shiny burn scars encircling his upper arm. He'd hit Iori with a nasty fire attack a long time ago, effectively disabling him during that particular fight. The other man had snarled back then, enraged. Now, Iori shivered whenever he touched him there, fingertips skimming over healed flesh.

So much had changed, and yet…so much remained the same.

Kyo ran his fingers along Iori's inner wrist, goosebumps rising on the other's arm. Iori made another sound, turned towards him, and curled on his side. Yagami slumbered deeply and nothing short of hell breaking loose would rouse him. He'd tripped leaving the entranceway – was troubled several hours before – and was out immediately upon lying down. Moving closer, Kyo wrapped his arms around the other man, fitting his body against his.

He closed his eyes, lulled back to sleep by their shared warmth.

Sensation of time passing – seconds, minutes, or hours? – before he reopened his eyes to a brightly lit room. Iori shifted in his arms, lean muscle sleek against him and Kyo pressed his lips to his forehead. A small exhalation, breath stirring the few red strands there. Then, Kyo rested his forehead against Iori's, synced his breathing to match the other's rhythm and waited.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence.

Iori stirred, opened his eyes and blinked. Once. Twice.

"Morning. Sleep well?"

His lover's face, still slack and drowsy, angled upward slightly. His visible eye was focusing, dark pupil shrinking and expanding. Kyo reached forward, brushing aside Iori's mass of hair. Again, the other man blinked, mouth opening and closing. Iori was strong and warm, yet vulnerable. Kyo didn't want to leave the bed. Not yet.

"How are you feeling?"

Two crimson-brown eyes sharpened into focus and Iori shifted against him, remaining quiet. Iori wasn't prone to early-morning discussions in or outside of bed, but after last night, there was a strange mood upon him. Kyo wanted to dispel this mood – this sudden distance between them. Everything had started out fine and then…

Somehow, their conversation went awry and he wasn't sure why.

"Yagami? You okay?"

"Wasn't pushing you away."

"Pushing me…" Kyo settled his hand behind Iori's head, fingers buried in soft hair. "You weren't."

"Thought I did. You looked…"

"I was disappointed, but we can make do without the visits. Told you I understand. Our clans, right?"

"Not just that." Iori's whole demeanor was subdued, his voice low. "My estate…things happened there."

"What things?"

"Don't want to say."

The Yagami clan had their own history and secrets and Iori was part of it. Perhaps, this information – whatever Iori withheld – wasn't meant for him. He was still an outsider, despite their changed status. "Then don't." Yagami's soft breathing, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the blanket, and Kyo slipped his fingers closer to Iori's scalp. The other man made a sound. "I'm not angry."

"Kyo…"

"Hmmm?"

"When I mentioned your father, you…" A knot between Iori's brows, as though trying to figure something out. "You looked…disturbed."

"Oh." Kyo frowned, aware of Iori's increasing perturbation. "He's worried about Orochi."

"How so?"

Kyo wasn't sure how to phrase it without giving offense. "He's fine with us, but –"

"He's afraid I'll do something, right?"

"It's Orochi he's worried about. Not you."

"I know what he means." Iori's tone was hard. "He's afraid I'll Riot on you." A brief pause. "It's always there, Kyo. It's not going away."

"And we'll get through it together."

"How?"

"By telling Orochi to fuck off."

"You think I haven't tried?" Tension along Iori's jawline, muscles rigid. "You think I haven't told him to get lost?"

Kyo rubbed his fingers gently against Iori's scalp, trying to ease and comfort him. His lover's eyes closed, the mattress shifting between them as Iori readjusted his position. Continuing his ministrations, Kyo once again pressed his forehead to Iori's. "He just needs some persuasion."

A sharp huff that wasn't quite a laugh.

"We'll get through it, Yagami. Whatever comes."

"It won't be that easy, Kyo."

"Maybe not, but…" Kyo shrugged, rolling his shoulder so that the mattress dipped again. "Has that ever stopped us?"

Iori laughed this time; yet, it was brief. "I was just…"

"You ever have anything to say, just tell me." All the worry in Iori's body language the night before, easily resolved if his lover simply voiced his concerns. Instead, Iori had carried it within him, afraid he'd erred. Afraid he'd marred their relationship. "I might be able to help. Even if I can't, I'll listen."

Silence.

"Yagami?"

"I'm just…it's all…"

"Confusing?"

"Different. With you."

Kyo had no apt response to that – it was true – so he angled his face downward, brushing his lips against Iori's. Taste of liquor, and Yagami embraced him, arms wound tight around his back. Spreading his fingers, Kyo held the back of Iori's head as their kiss deepened. Scarlet hair between them, bright against the rumpled white bed sheet. Sounds of the city beyond the window but here, in the bed and under the blanket, their world dwindled to each other.

Iori moved against him, soft sounds in the back of his throat.

They were lost in each other – giving solace – and that was all right. What was needed.

By the time they parted, Iori was placid.

Kyo held him. Held him and kept silent, remaining in the mood they shaped. Later, they would get up and resume their lives. Now, though…now, they could stay like this, undisturbed – troubles temporarily banished.

It was the most he could do for Iori.

He'd do a lot more, if he could.