Jumbled

Kyo's muscles were suddenly tense; drawing Iori's eyes away from the history that lined Kyo's body to the angry, all too aware brown eyes that belonged to the man Iori had saved. Iori felt himself go a little paler at that look in Kusanagi's eyes.

Through grinding teeth, Kyo hissed, anger like venom in every word. "What. The fuck. Are you. Looking. At?"

Iori's eyes drifted down at the sudden movement of Kyo clenching his right fist, which Iori was sure Kyo was itching to use, but Iori played it cool. "Just checking out your scar collection. Bet I gave you most of those, huh Kusanagi?"

"Bastard!" Kyo yelled leaping up to throw a punch at Yagami.

Schitzo was sent flying from Kyo's lap with a surprised meow that ended in a very pissed off hiss. Iori grabbed Kyo's fist just as soon as it was close enough. Iori wanted to avoid a fight, Kyo was already hurt; fighting would only worsen his injuries. A grunt of pain escaped Kyo's lips as soon as he had leapt at Iori.

Unable to keep his balance as he instinctively grabbed his side, Kyo collapsed against Iori. Not expecting Kyo to suddenly fall, Iori fell back against the couch. Now they lay awkwardly across the couch, Kyo atop Iori. Kyo's face was pressed into the red heads shoulder which helped to muffle his grunts and groans of pain. Kyo's fist was still in Iori's closed hand, Iori being too shocked to release his grip on the younger fighters' hand. Kyo's other hand was still laying across his abdomen which was only lying a very few centimeters away from Iori's pants zipper, as Iori thought about this he felt his muscles stiffen. Iori also became aware that his legs were on either side of Kyo's, one hanging off the couch and the other pinned between Kyo's thigh and the cushion of the back of the couch. Iori's left hand, he noticed, was touching the warm bare skin of Kyo's hip, the low rise jeans of Kyo's and tumble which had tugged up on his shirt had left this small spot open.

Iori was too shocked to move. He was waiting for something to happen. Perhaps Kyo get up for another attempt at a fight? Or maybe he was hoping Kyo wouldn't move but instead… Iori shook his head to rid himself of that thought.

"What the fuck are you thinking, Iori? Kusanagi only wants to kill you not-" Iori paused in his thoughts. "Why am I so interested in him all of a sudden?"

Iori's heart was pounding as he realized that this was not happening suddenly. Iori had wanted Kyo years ago. Wanting Kyo was the reason he cast off his family name and left the Yagami clan. Wanting this man was the reason he could live with being branded a traitor. But… Being hated by this man… That was painful. That was something he couldn't live with; as a Yagami or a traitor.

Iori felt Kyo's breathing and heartbeat slow, and Iori felt Kyo relax again, making the red-head even tenser. Was Kusanagi doing this on purpose or was he unconscious? Iori couldn't tell at this point but either way he needed to stop Kyo. His sanity depended on it. Iori's no fool. Iori knows that there is no way in the seven levels of hell that Kyo would ever care for him. Not in the way he wants anyways…

Kyo's head shifted and suddenly Iori could feel the younger mans calm, warm breathe wash over his delicate neck. This made Iori's heart jump and his stomach flutter; he couldn't even stop a quiet sigh from escaping his traitorous lips. Iori felt his hand travel caressingly up Kyo's side and stop the instant he realized it.

"Kusanagi."

There was no response, not even a quickening of the heart beat or a quickening in his breathing. Iori was struggling to calm himself down, looking all around the room, even biting down on his own lips. The lack of response from Kyo made things hard on Iori.

Iori called again, harsher. "Kyo."

Yet again, no response. Iori was beginning to think Kyo was indeed unconscious. Iori suddenly felt Kyo clench his fist in Iori's hand but he quickly released it again. It was like Kyo had twitched.

Iori chuckled at the thought, but froze again when Kyo's hand moved for the briefest moment. Kyo tried to move his hand out from underneath his own weight, brushing his fingers lightly, for a second, against Iori's most private area. Iori felt his breath catch and heat rise to his face as anger flowed through him.

"Kusanagi, if you don't get the fuck off me, I'm gonna-!" Iori yelled out of anger at the pleasure he was getting from this.

Kyo broke into a fit of coughs and grunts of pain, distracting Iori from himself. After his fit was over, Kyo was back to the same limp body he had been before. Despite himself, Iori began to worry.

"Kyo, get up." Iori said softly against Kyo's hair.

Once again, Kyo didn't respond.

Iori knew now that Kyo was hurt worse than either of them had guessed. Afraid he would hurt the fighter even worse, Iori slowly, keeping his movement to a minimum, released Kyo's hand and brought his own to rest at the spot between Kyo's shoulders. He rolled onto his right side, letting Kyo slowly rest his full weight on Iori's hand. With Kyo's legs now dangerously close to falling off the tattered old couch, Iori sat up and slid his left hand under Kyo's legs and as gently as the red-head could muster, he lifted the wounded warrior into his arms.

Iori took Kyo back to the bed again and laid him back down on top of the blankets. If Kyo was going to attack him like that for no reason other then the stupid feud, Iori felt he could let Kyo freeze until he woke up and pulled himself under the blankets.

With a look of annoyance on his face, Iori headed back to the living room. He sat back down on the couch and rubbed a tired hand across his face. The red-heads thoughts were a jumble of emotions. Schitzo jumped back up onto the couch and walked in a small circle, all the while her tiny little eyes watched Iori with a look that said she was none too happy with him.