Title: Your Color Across the World
Fandom: [K] Project Anime
Characters/Pairing: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki.
Disclaimer: [K] belongs to GoRA and GoHands, I owe none and produce no money out of this.
Warnings: unbeta-ed, grammar errors ahoy, OOC-ness? Written just after episode five, by the way.
A/N: majinxkayleigh on tumblr requested fluff. I'm—seriously I usually write teeth-rotting fluff that makes people puke, but this pairing. I can't do it. I'm sorry, I hope this is fluffy enough for you!
A [K] Project Fanfiction
Your Color Across the World
He was startled awake at the absence of familiar heartbeats under his ear.
Everything was silent. He couldn't even hear anything drifting up from the bar downstairs, and for a second he thought he'd slept all afternoon away and into the midnight. Except he'd done that before, and he knew Kusanagi-san should still be awake, having a date with his bar counter while polishing the already shiny wine glasses. Seriously, the infatuation that man had with his bar couldn't be fucking healthy.
He was sprawled on the couch. Alone. The blanket was pooling around his hips, providing little to cover all his naked glory, and it was freezing. Misaki groaned in irritation, because he absolutely hated it if he woke up alone when he'd been asleep with someone. One day, he'd chop that monkey's head off if he kept this up.
"Awake already?"
The drawl brought forth a scowl onto his face. Slowly, he raised his head, looking up to see Saruhiko sitting on the couch arm by the open window as he kept his gaze outside, careless to the fact that he was fucking naked and as far as Misaki knew, there was a six-year-old girl living in the building across this room. Idiot monkey never gave a thought about decency and females.
"What the fuck, Saru?" Misaki's eyes narrowed. "Close the window."
Saruhiko made a noise at the back of his throat and clicked his tongue, but never moved.
It was raining outside. Freaking freezing rain, because winter was fast approaching and the weather forecast said that they might have early snow this year. Seeing that the couch where he was sprawled naked on was just off to the side of the window, it was no wonder he felt like he was in the fucking arctic. Misaki raised a hand to slap Saruhiko's arm, hard.
"It's fucking freezing. Close the window, dumbass."
"Look, Misaki."
The lack of drawl on the syllables of his name got his attention. Saruhiko loved teasing him, loved riling him up until he couldn't help but shout louder and louder at the fucked-up monkey, sometimes followed by several kicks or jabs. Even when they fuck (made love, Totsuka-san said, but making love was supposed to be gentle and they had never been, and besides, making love was for people with emotions who loved each other. Misaki wasn't quite sure they fall into that category), the drawl was rarely absent—usually only vanishing entirely moments before Saruhiko stumbled over the edge and came.
Movements still sluggish from sleep, Misaki struggled free from the blanket, letting it fall to the floor completely. He pushed himself up slowly onto his hands and knees, poking his head behind Saruhiko's shoulder to get a good look outside. Then he frowned.
"Huh," he said, for once feeling dumb because whatever it was, it was something that made Saruhiko forget to drawl his name, and that's got to be freaking important. "What are we looking at, exactly?"
Saruhiko didn't answer, didn't even blink, didn't even twitch when Misaki rested his chin on his shoulder. There was nothing outside. Nothing except the rain blurring all lines in this world into depressing grey, dulling every color into muted, boring shades. It was depressing, it was boring, it was meaningless, and Misaki hated it. There was a sudden unquenchable urge to fly off the window with his skateboard and streak HOMRA's red across every single thing in this city, if only to give the world a little bit of color.
"You can't when it's raining like this."
Misaki blinked. "Fuck, did I say that out loud."
Saruhiko's head turned slowly, and Misaki's breath stuttered when Saruhiko's nose brushed his cheek. Saruhiko's lips quirked up in a familiar smirk; his lips a breadth away from the corner of Misaki's, and just like that, Misaki shivered.
In his defense, it was freezing.
"Or maybe," Saruhiko breathed out, lips moving against the corner of Misaki's own lips, kissing and yet not quite touching. "You can."
Misaki narrowed his eyes.
"Always the brightest." Saruhiko's hand trailed up his side, before resting on the small of Misaki's back. "Most vibrant." A tongue darted out, teasingly licking his lower lip, then teeth came to play, tugging his mouth open, and Saruhiko kissed him, deep and thorough, slow yet fierce and smoldering. When the monkey pulled back, Misaki snarled, leaning forward to follow him and captured his lips again, ferocious and wild.
It left both of them breathless, but it felt good, and it didn't feel like he was losing.
Saruhiko's eyes danced, a gleam of excitement and insanity clear for everyone to see, and Misaki recognized challenge when he saw it. The smirk was a familiar one, too; half-crazed and excited and anticipating, one Misaki had long associated with Saruhiko and only Saruhiko. This was insane, Misaki thought as he pulled Saruhiko back onto the couch, tangling their limbs and lips together. Saruhiko was insane, and Misaki had definitely lost his mind, too, because he was proud that he could bring forth such emotions in Saruhiko's eyes.
Saruhiko, who always looked at everything in boredom. Saruhiko, who hated everything and everyone, who constantly craved the thrill of a challenge, whose heart even Mikoto-san couldn't touch. Saruhiko, who loved blood and flesh and pain, who was so brilliant Misaki couldn't bear to let go.
"Oh. You smell like love, Yata-chan."
"What the hell, Totsuka-san? The camera's too close, too close!"
"Did you know that love between Cancer and Scorpio could be wounding, yet deeply intimate nonetheless? Aah, must be nice to be young."
"… wait, you're only three years older than we are!"
"Mi-sa-ki…" Saruhiko drawled, peering up from beneath hooded eyes. His gaze was dark, both with lust and a craving for power, for dominance. Insanity, Misaki knew, but it was Saruhiko. It was Saruhiko, so it was fine.
Closing his eyes, Misaki leaned down, welcoming insanity into the very core of his being.
-o0ofinitoo0o-