Against all his better judgment, what better judgment the alcohol had left him with, Kyo arched his back. Obviously, Yagami felt him, because he put his hand on Kyo's waist, pulled him to a standing position.
"Please, Kyo, allow me to take you home."
"I can't go home drunk."
"Then come to my place." Yagami held him by his waist, close enough he could feel the moist heat of Yagami's body, he wanted the rough fabric of his jeans over his crotch to be that slight inch closer to him.
Kyo nodded.
Yagami drove too fast, his music was too raucous and too loud, but he didn't turn it down and he didn't slow the old black car, amplifiers and guitar cases in the back seat banged against the passenger side and rocked Kyo back and forth, making three am city lights blend into each other, a neon blur of color and shapes leading Kyo exactly where he didn't want to go. But what choice did he have? Finally, the drive was over, not near soon enough, and Yagami pulled into a grungy, broken down apartment building The thing was whitewashed, some windows were boarded up, padlocks and mold stains. Kyo wondered how anyone could live there. But Yagami was out of the car, two small amplifiers in his arms, both guitar cases slung over his shoulders like some sort of old West gunslinger's holsters. Kyo stood, staggering, and followed him up a flight of stairs, down a yellow hallway, and into his apartment.
Yagami hardly had time to set down the musical equipment before Kyo's lust took over. He pushed the taller redhead against the wall, pressed their lips together roughly. Yagami pushed him onto the bed, upsetting an orange cat that vaguely resembled a pile of furred vomit, who promptly ran out the open door, before Yagami shut it after him, turned back to Kyo.
"I can't tell you how long I've dreamt of that." Yagami perched over Kyo, kissed him again, forcing his mouth open and ravaging his lips, teeth and tongue, leaving nothing untouched. Kyo moaned wanton, desperate, his face red with lust and alcohol. Shamelessly, he pawed at Yagami's chest, tearing the thin fabric of his black shirt, shaking.
It wasn't making love, not by any stretch of the imagination. It was fucking, pure and simple. Kyo's clothing was torn from him, thrown aside, carelessly. Yagami only removed what was necessary. Kyo had to take the initiative, push his shirt up his stomach, he always tasted that skin in his fantasies, knew, from his dreams, how sensitive and pliant his nipples were, and he was far from disappointed. It almost gave him an edge over the larger man, to lavish them with attention, rough, very well near violent bites and scratches trailed down his chest. The sex itself was just as violent and delicious, only the way fucking your worst enemy can be. Exactly what he expected of Yagami Iori.
Thing was, Kyo barely remembered the sex, only that it was amazing.
Yagami was bent over a box on a table, wearing black jeans that hugged that perfect ass like they had been made for him. A roll of medical bandages trailed across the floor towards the couch Kyo was laying on, his broad shoulders were hunched into himself, he called, not looking at Kyo, backwards.
"Ever splinted a bone?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Your leg needs help."
"Fine."
Yagami had a plank of smoothed wood in one hand, probably used for his own pains at one point in time, and he pulled the bandages with him, sat behind Kyo. He leveled the flat piece against Kyo's leg, eliciting a hiss of pain from the wounded man.
"Hold my arm." There was a surprising amount of care in his voice, he put both arms around Kyo, and let the man latch onto him.
Kyo gritted his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut, and his nails dug harsh into Yagami's arm as he pulled the bandages tight, to fix the bones back where they belonged. The calm, consistent breathing behind him, against his back, was the only thing keeping him grounded. He was so calm, tugging the bandages around his leg, fixed to the splint, even though blood was pooling under Kyo's fingernails. Yagami's breath was hot against the side of his neck, bringing to mind once again the drunken attraction he had for his enemy. Yagami fastened the bandage around Kyo's leg, gave him a lingering kiss on his cheek, and stood.
"Fuck was that for?"
"I wanted to."
"Well, don't." Kyo deliberately looked away, stubborn, making a concerted attempt to ignore the attraction.
"Fine, I'll find other places to kiss you then." Yagami smirked deliberately. He was getting off on this, in some sick way, and Kyo could tell.