Kyo's head fell. He couldn't offer him this. He wanted to, he wanted to offer this man everything, he couldn't. The stigma was too much. He was too trained to kill this man, too trained to hate, too trained to want him down, take the demon out of this world. But he saw nothing of the demon now. Yagami was shy, he couldn't look at Kyo, his hands twitched and fidgeted, fingers curling over each other and tore at his nails, callouses, scratched his wrists. His scuffed canvas sneakers rubbed the backs of his ankles, zippered black jeans were just that little bit too short, Iori had to be over six feet tall. Too tall, with his bright red hair, stood out like nothing else on these streets. How he pulled a normal life, a decent job, was beyond Kyo's imaginings. He supposed he didn't. Music stores, the band, the tournaments, not a much normal life.

"I didn't think so." Yagami stood, turned away from Kyo. "I'd like you to be out of here by the end of the week, you're healed. Don't care what you tell your family, not my problem."

"Because I don't wanna' fuck you?"

"Sure." Yagami wasn't paying attention to him anymore, he had sat down on the bed with his bass. The notes were deep and smooth, fast, sweet and dark and sad. Kyo closed his eyes and listened for the melody, hidden under the flurry of notes. He couldn't watch Yagami. He knew what he looked like, he had watched the older man practice before. His head was down, his hair covered his face entirely, his hands moved too fast to be properly seen, his shirt rode up, or his pants were too low, which made sense for his height, exposing pale flesh. His face was a mess of concentration. Kyo had seen this all before. The cat was sleeping next to him. That damned mangy orange cat was loyal to a fault. It was uglier than sin, its face was squished into itself, there were tears in its ears, probably from fighting. Kyo had a few scars of his own, he was sure Yagami did. He remembered one, from that night, riding along his hip, deep and white, and he liked when it was touched. Kyo remembered lying awake while his one night stand slept, and running his fingers back and forth across it. He could barely see the top above his zippered black jeans.

Kyo heaved himself off the couch, it was still a difficulty and he still limped, but he forced himself to stand and cross the room to the bed. He sat beside Yagami.

Yagami looked at him, raised one eyebrow. "I don't get the car 'till the weekend, I can't give you a ride home."

"I'm not asking for one, dumbfuck."

"I guess that's a step up from Yagami. Then what do you want?"

"You, I think."

Yagami's eyes lit. His hands fell from his bass guitar, he watched Kyo for some sign this was a joke, this wasn't real. Kyo had to make the first move. He leaned forward and kissed Yagami's cheek. The tall man shuddered, looked at Kyo, his eyes wide. Kyo gave him the briefest of smiles, the most he could afford with the sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew the details of the curse Yagami carried, knew things about it likely no one had told Yagami. He knew how long this could last, he knew it probably wouldn't. But he had gone too far now, he had to try.

Yagami's hands found either side of Kyo's face. He cradled the younger man, met his eyes. Kyo didn't figure many people saw both of Yagami's eyes, the way his hair completely covered one, there was a tiny scar just underneath the covered one, barely noticeable, but he couldn't meet Yagami's eyes and it was something to focus on.

Yagami kissed him. Even four years ago, when they had known each other intimately, they had never kissed like they did now. It was slow, tentative, neither knew how the other was going to react. Yagami gently took Kyo's lower lip between his teeth, pulled, letting Kyo's mouth open to him. A delicate tongue fluttered into his mouth, past his front teeth, tasting him. Kyo's tongue moved to compliment his enemy's, they tousled over each other, explorative, not fighting for dominance, not violent. Yagami's hands strayed from Kyo's face into his hair, playing with the soft brown strands between his fingers, cupping the back of his head to keep him there. Kyo braced himself with one hand on the bed to lean into the kiss, the other touched Yagami's shoulder, nervous.

Pulling back from the kiss to breathe, Iori grabbed Kyo around the waist and pulled him close. He couldn't have daydreamed a better way for this to turn out, Kyo making the first move so he didn't have to fear for rejection. He didn't want Kyo to leave, he wanted to keep him here, forever, kissing him like this. He kissed him again, sucking gently at his lower lip, making Kyo shiver, and for once he didn't think it was in a bad way. Kyo had always struck him as too beautiful to be as cold and uncaring as he was. He knew Kyo had a girlfriend, some perky little highschool gold digger who couldn't give a real shit about Kyo if she tried. He knew, she dated older men so they would give her everything she wanted. He had heard the rumors around the tournament circuit, he knew he couldn't give Kyo the social status, he couldn't give him the warm willing body, but he could give him better than some teenaged brat. He also knew that Kyo was kissing him, that Kyo wanted him.

And he was just self loathing enough to not mind being an affair. He lowered Kyo back to lay on the bed, spread out beneath him, and flushed from all the kissing. He didn't think that Kyo had ever been kissed like this. He was splayed out, his hands grasping for Iori, brown hair spread out on the pillow. His skin was flushed red away from its normal glow, white shirt was pushed up his stomach, revealing this perfect toned abdomen. His jeans had ridden low, he gasped for breath, now gripping Iori's arms for everything he had. Iori stroked his hair, kissed him gently again, not trying to open his mouth, just a little press of lips to lips. Kyo looked like he had been betrayed, in the best way possible. His deep brown eyes narrowed against Iori's, They were darkened with lust, unabashed, as much as he wanted he couldn't hide what was there already. He let his lips run over Kyo's skin, cheeks, eyelids, nipped gently at his earlobe. Kyo was victim underneath him, more so than any fight they had ever had. He was helpless aroused. Iori ran his hand up under Kyo's shirt, pushed it up around his shoulders, slid it off strong arms. Kyo played with his hair, tugging at the short red strands in the back. He couldn't look at Iori, his dark eyes were fluttered shut, head turned away, but he welcomed every kiss, every heated breath he struggled to take. Iori nipped at his throat, his collarbone, sensitive, eliciting a short gasp and an arch of his back. One leg twined over Iori's hip, pulled him close, gasping and desperate.

"Never thought you were so eager, Kyo."

"Don't," he panted, "call me that."

Instead of a response, Iori kissed him. It didn't matter what he could call him, it mattered that he had him, that they were here, his warm body and willing lips, on the precipice of something that terrified and excited Iori.