Otaru came back to consciousness slowly, frowning slightly. In these few seconds, he didn't understand the warm body pressed against his own, didn't understand the sense of satisfaction which was still held in his muscles.
Then the memory came back to him and Otaru's eyes snapped open. Mitsurugi's sleeping face came into view, the blonde draped over him as he breathed in deep sighs. Otaru was shocked, mostly in himself.
He'd gotten carried away. He had agreed to one kiss, and had turned them into lovers. They may not of 'gone all the way' as people tended to call it, but they'd still found pleasure in one another's arms. It had seemed so easy to tell himself he was just comforting the other, that there was no reason for the way his skin had heated and his heart had pounded. In the heat of the moment, it was easy to give in to his own desires and say it was just a coincidence that Mitsurugi was the focus of them.
In the light of day, things were very different.
He had never thought something could feel so good. He couldn't deny the fact that he'd been just as aroused as the other, that he'd liked the soft sounds Mitsurugi had made as Otaru touched and kissed him. There was no way to pretend it was just a coincidence, because Otaru had been hypnotized by the pleasure he'd seen on Mitsurugi's face, had known for every second that it was Mitsurugi he was trailing his hands and lips over. He'd never thought it was possible, but every touch of Mitsurugi's hands had made that powerful fire within him burn even hotter, and there had never been a moment when he'd kidded himself into thinking it wasn't the blonde man touching him.
The warmth of human skin could never be replaced.
Otaru hadn't thought there was much of a difference, hadn't actually sat down and thought for himself which choice he would take. The truth of the matter was that he'd always been too distracted by everything else to wonder about his own desires. The taste men held for women were a natural thing. But in this world, it was just as ordinary to feel such a thing for man as well. A marionette could satiate the desire for the touch of another person, they could look close enough to a woman that one could close their eyes and pretend. However, they could never feel quite as soft, quite as warm, as a living being.
Otaru felt bad but he knew that, despite their emotions, his marionettes could never be human.
It hadn't mattered, he'd never really thought any of them as a possible partner despite the strong friendship and love he felt toward them. It was very different, the kind of love he'd created with Mitsurugi last night.
Otaru let his eyes trail over Mitsurugi's pale skin, noting the curve of a smile on the other's lips that he had in sleep. As small as it was, it was a far more honest and happy one than he'd seen since they'd arrived.
He couldn't imagine what it had been like. Otaru shied away from the thought even now, unable to face the mindless violence of others. He'd known it existed as anyone else did, but had never thought it could be happening to someone so close to him.
Because he was close to Mitsurugi. Even if he'd disliked the blonde's sharp tongue and extreme antics, Mitsurugi had always been part of his life. He could remember, since childhood, the blonde trailing after him wherever he went, doing everything he could to gain Otaru's attention even if it was just for a second.
As annoying as it had been, Otaru couldn't deny it had been flattering. He had friends, but certainly no one else that loved him in any way that wasn't platonic. No one else took such delight in just a glance or casual touch.
Because Mitsurugi did love him.
It wasn't infatuation. It wasn't obsession.
There was no way Mitsurugi could of done with him as they'd done last night if it wasn't real love, and this was the first time Otaru realized it.
Behind the petty jealousies and fierce competitiveness, Mitsurugi had really cared about him all of this time.
Otaru closed his eyes, letting his forehead fall against the other's. How could he of been so ignorant this entire time? He had never been able to look past the surface, had made his decisions based only on that which he'd seen plain as day. He'd ignored the tenderness he'd seen in Mitsurugi as he addressed his brother, had turned a blind eye whenever he'd seen the pain in the other's eyes, telling himself that there couldn't really be anything to someone who showed such shallowness on the outside.
The thought didn't sit well with him. Otaru had always thought of himself as an insightful, patient person. He'd prided himself on being able to see the good things in people, and being able to respond the subtleties which made each person around him special.
He'd assumed that Mitsurugi's dislike of his Marionettes had grown from ignorant prejudice. He hadn't even stopped to think that Mitsurugi could be jealous of the difference in the way Otaru treated them. Because, now, he saw plain as day how he'd tried so hard to make each of the girls happy and comfortable. While he'd done his best to ignore anything Mitsurugi said or did for him. How he'd snapped at the other boy for any unkind words or actions, while he'd kept quiet or even encouraged the girls to retaliate against Mitsurugi in any way they wanted.
How could he of been so blind all of these years? How could he of pushed Mitsurugi aside so easily, as though he weren't really a human being that might of been hurt by his actions? How could he of been so disgustingly oblivious?
He was the one that was ignorant.
Otaru brushed his finger's along Mitsurugi's cheek, then let his arm slip around the blonde's slender shoulders.
Never again, he swore to himself. Never again.