I meet Tsukishima's gaze without meaning to, almost flinching at the blatant look of surprise shining through it. To think, he hasn't even realized how possessive I'm being.

"Tsuki-kun!" My eyes are drawn to Psyche once again, who has twirled around to spot my author. I want to wipe the triumphant grin off of his face, but I don't make any movements towards him, instead choosing to recompose myself as the other man nearly skips towards Tsukishima.

I don't get angry often; Psyche and I are the same height, but for a moment, I felt as if I towered over him.

"So, I brought all the paperwork, and I can tell you all you need to do, so it'll be really easy-" Another rush of bitterness swells up inside me. Psyche chatters on while Tsukishima tries to seek out my eyes for a repeat of that moment of communication. "I'm so excited; it'll be so fun-"

And I step back and close the door quietly, controlled. I'm not willing or capable to listen to any more of this. All I can think about as I sit down heavily on his couch is the time I first met Tsukishima, when he was even more reserved and nervous around me, when I'd thought that I could never get along with someone like that-

The apartment door opens with a tiny click and closes again. I can catch the all too audible sounds of Psyche leaving, hopping down the stairs. Still able to feel the simmering hatred pooling in my stomach, I focus my breathing, telling myself to relax. This is the only incident I can count Tsukishima's weight sinking down next to me on the sofa to be unsettling.

"Roppi-san?" he starts hesitantly and I sigh inwardly at the sheer awkwardness of it all. It's so stonily silent that I hear rather than see the blonde tug habitually at his scarf. "If...if you really meant that, then...um, I told Psyche that..." I should be sad. I should be disappointed. I've obviously made up Tsukishima's mind for him by allowing him to overhear my statement, but I all I can feel is angry. Mineminemineminemine, coupled with a yearning that I know precisely how to name. It's reminding me just why I don't like to get close to people. "I told him that he might as well recruit you to, because...um, I really want to stay with you, Roppi-san," Tsukishima continues shyly. My head snaps up just in time to view him hiding his blushing cheeks within the white fabric wrapped around his neck.

I can't help the plea for confirmation that slides past my lips. "What?"

"Um, to be honest, I really want to try something new...ah, not that Dollars is bad! But just a change, um...but I think that I wouldn't...be as happy with someone that's not you," The mumbled sentence ends more like a question. "I...I might like you a little more than I should, and, and I'm completely okay if you feel a little jealous!" He rushes this out as if he doesn't want to lose his nerve, fists clenching tightly in his lap.

Relief, relief, relief is replacing my dull rage, like tide slowly coming up on the beach. Maybe Tsukishima has been blinded by his tendency to pick out only the good in people, but maybe I've been blinded by my own territorial nature. "Do you have feelings for me, Tsukishima?" I avoid the word love simply because loveis too big an idea for me to comprehend but maybe, maybe, there's someone who can help me with that.

Garnet eyes so like mine slip close, panic stricken. "Y-..yeah."

"They say you shouldn't mix business with pleasure," I say after a pause as if commenting on the weather, but I'm picking my words carefully. Tsukishima's easily readable expression drops. "but they also say that you can't be a writer and be happy."

He's purely pensive for a moment. I'm fine with that; I've said my bit while retaining my dignity, and I'm not expecting a long-winded romantic confession from him.

:

"You're kind of confusing, Roppi-san," laughs Tsukishima shortly after a while, playing with the end of his scarf. "Um, but I think I know what you're trying to say, so...I've always been your author, you know? That probably sounds weird, but...um, I won't go to YS if you don't want to..."

Some part of me vaguely registers that he sounds hopeful about YS, but I don't think he's realized what he's done. Your author. He doesn't realize how much him saying that he's my author makes me want to push him down on the couch and show him how much of mine he really is, because I know that he'd let me. But he's waiting for my next words.

We'll just dance around the bigger point like this; Tsukishima is too shy to be straightforward and I can't cast off my crippling pride. He's looking me in the eye now, finally, and he's got that stupid blush that's only endearing on him. I'll ease him into it, I decide then.

I lean up to kiss him before he can pull away.

It's odd, but not in a bad way- I've done this with strangers before, but I've never known them the way I know him. I predict his reactions with near perfect accuracy: he inhales sharply through his nose, lips parting slightly enough for me to begin caressing them with my own. He gives no visible response even as I'm pulling away with an extreme measure of self control. The reactions I don't predict, such as the way he follows me back down a few centimeters before hurriedly jerking back, are welcome all the same.

"Can..." he starts after his initial shock has worn off. Licking his lips once, he tries to speak once more. "Can you...d-do that again?"

Hell. I think he means another innocent brush like the one I've just performed, but now he's just asking for it.

Next thing he knows he's on his back, head colliding with the armrest as I hover over him. Tsukishima winces briefly in discomfort and then goes wide-eyed behind his lenses, presumably at the dark expression on my face. I dip closer to him slowly, savoring the way he shudders under me but offers no complaint. It's as if something snaps when my lips close on his again and he reaches up to grip my shoulders lightly, tilting his face up with an uncertain hum. I'm shaking.

Screw self control.

Tsukishima gasps when I nip on his bottom lip, and I take the opportunity to slip my tongue inside his mouth, tasting him for the first time. He's trying to respond, I can tell, but I'm not too concerned as long as he continues to allow me to push nearer. Oxygen becomes an issue all too soon, and I'm immediately relocating my attentions to the skin of his neck. He lets out a wobbly exhale. I've always heard others say that the quiet ones are loudest in this situation, but Tsukishima is just as consistently hushed and I find that I don't mind because actions such as the rough tugs on my hair are letting me know exactly how he feels.

I've left a noticeable mark on his neck, right in a place that he couldn't use the scarf to hide, and I examine it with satisfaction before flicking my gaze up to the writer's face. His eyes are closed as he breathes harshly. I've obviously paused for too long because he opens them to look at me curiously, and it hits me just how okay he is with my possessive nature. I'm fully prepared to get back into what I was doing, and I'm unraveling his scarf when suddenly, my phone goes off and I don't think I've ever, ever hated the sound more than I do now.

"Hello?" I have to answer it; any call could be important at any time. I try to keep my voice calm. Tsukishima hasn't ceased to be enticing beneath me, and I'm resisting the temptation to throw the device across the room.

"Psyche here! Tsuki-kun says that he'll transfer if you do, and we've looked into your records, and you're really good at your job, aren't you? We could always use new managers, too! So, should I bring the paperwork today or tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," I say impatiently. I've had it with this guy and I'm hoping that Tsukishima and I don't see a lot of him around YS.

Psyche giggles unnervingly. "Alright! I can't wait to work alongside you, Roppi-chan!" The sound of his hanging up is music to my ears.

"You're going to transfer?" Tsukishima questions, a sunny smile spreading.

"Yeah," I reply, resuming my work on his scarf. I'm starting to not care where I work as long as I can keep this man.

"T-...thank you," says my author sincerely, seemingly unaware of the fact that I'm trying to get his clothes off. I roll my eyes and don't bother with a response since I'm doing it mostly for myself.

"But, Roppi-san, if you really want to stay with Dollars...I mean, you've been with them for a long time..." Tsukishima trails off abruptly as his scarf slides onto the floor. He probably feels exposed already without it; the author is hopelessly attached, having been wearing the thing since before I even met him. I, however, am happy to see it go, because now I can pull his bowtie off and start on the buttons of his vest. This is most likely too fast for him, but it's not near quick enough for me. I grumble as I reach the next layer of his clothing. There's a whole new column of buttons waiting for me to attend to them, and Tsukishima stares up at me with big eyes, mouth slightly parted. I support my weight with one hand and work on unbuttoning his dress shirt with the other, lurching up to kiss him. I'm liking this more than I ever thought I would, and I don't plan on letting my writer escape anytime soon.

"Sit up for a second," I halt suddenly and huff in annoyance. He blinks at me before obeying, clearly conflicted as to whether he should allow me to continue or not. "If you want me to stop you should say so now, Tsukishima," I tell him irritably. Granted, even if he expressed his concern I probably still wouldn't stop, but I figure that this will at least get his attention. I pull his vest and shirt off and push him back down, the clothes falling to join the scarf on the floor.

The author bites his lip and shakes his head without a word. Not wasting any time, I roll my hips against his experimentally. Neither of us are fully erect yet, but it still sparks a quiver of arousal, and so I do it again and elicit a gasp from the man under me. I fully doubt whether he has any experience with this, but he's rocking back hesitantly now and it somehow feels better knowing that he's not going to lay there and let me do all the work. If his face wasn't already rouge red then he'd be blushing brighter than a police light in the dark. Even talking about this type of thing is embarrassing for him, as I know from experience.

I'm not only taking in his facial expressions, but the almost-sounds he's making. Hearing every inhale and exhale that's interrupted by our activities is, I'll admit, turning me on more than it should. I love knowing what I'm doing to him. Tsukishima peeks open his eyes slightly, and upon noticing my careful observance promptly shuts them again and turns his head away. I'm still grinding on him and he's a little more open with reciprocating; it feels like heaven to me so it must feel good for him and he knows he's doing it right. However, I'm not too happy that he doesn't want me to see- he's mine, after all, and I'm not planning on telling nor showing him to anyone else. I duck down to nibble on his collarbone, forced into changing the direction of the movement of my hips while I'm at it.

I'm the first one out of the two of us to groan.

Reaching down and fumbling for Tsukishima's zipper, I leave his skin in order to tug the object down to his ankles; the friction will be so much better without the extra layer, and I quickly shuck my own jeans off, claiming his mouth yet again. I'm not aiming on going all the way, not yet- I know that Tsukishima is probably deathly scared of penetration, whether he'd be giving or receiving. But my thoughts are quickly scattered as he snaps his hips towards my own, sending a shock of pleasure through both of us, ripping another moan from my throat. My thrusting is becoming steadily more frantic. I still have my coat on, and Tsukishima grabs onto it for support, clenching and relaxing his fists. I know he won't tear it. The blonde unexpectedly breaks off from the kiss, panting.

He locks eyes with me then, crimson with ruby, and says my name for the first time since we began with such softness and fervor that my release comes a split second before his.

I sink onto his chest while his arms come up to embrace me, and I amusedly note that they're trembling, just like the rest of him. The stickiness is uncomfortable in my boxers, but I'm unwilling to get off of him and Tsukishima seems perfectly fine with not letting me go. I feel utterly at peace- not tired, just calm. It's not awkward, like I had feared, and-

And my phone rings.

"What?" I nearly snarl into the speaker, because I've unfortunately memorized Psyche's number by now.

"Roppi-chan! You said today, right?"

"Psyche, I said tomorrow."

"Oh, you did? Oh, I'm so sorry, Roppi-chan! I mean, I thought you said today, so I'm kind of at Tsuki-kun's door right now with everything you two need, so could you come get them real quick? Thanks!"

I decide that Psyche of YS Publishing will someday be a very poor, very miserable man.