Disclaimer: As usual, nothing belongs to me, but to Nakamura Shungiku and Kadokawa.

Author's note: Thank your for reading! I am sorry if it is not that awesome, but at least I enjoy writing it. I try to eliminate as much mistakes as possible, but they still might happen, so forgive me.

This chapter is Yokozawa's POV, and it's a shorter one.

Pride

Yokozawa Takafumi was a proud man. Nobody of the other employees at Marukawa Publishing - well, at least nobody except for two people - had any idea what he looked like with his shoulders slumped and his back bowing in defeat. Being the strict and serious man that he was, he had gained the respect of his subordinates, co-workers and clients, although sometimes it could also be called fear. Not that he actually minded. Respect was a good thing. Dignity was a good thing. Pride was a good thing.

And sometimes it was a hindrance as well.

He had tried to draw a line, to keep a big part of his pride at the company so he could wear it like a suit for work. It would have been the perfect solution, but of course things were not as easy, and pride was no suit. Before he had noticed, it had already become part of his personality. There were only some occasions when he would allow himself to forget about it and relax. For example, he didn't have problems to do so around children and animals. They didn't judge you and respected people for what they saw in their hearts.

And sometimes, he could relax under the pretence of being asleep.

Now was such a moment. The bed was warm and comfortable, especially since autumn was starting to send its first cold winds across the streets and ever so often a sudden downpour would surprise people heading home from work. It had happened to him just the day before, so he absolutely cherished the softness of the covers, embracing him with their warmth.

To be honest, it weren't only the covers.

Upon waking up he had opened his eyes for a second, meeting the sleeping face of his lover. Although being fully awake, he had decided to rest his eyes for just a little bit longer. As long as he was the only one knowing that he wasn't asleep anymore, he was willing to let his pride rest for some more minutes.

One slender arm was resting on his right side, heavy and motionless. With every passing second Yokozawa became more aware of the direct contact between the pale, soft skin and his own. And the fact that his feet were entangled with another pair made the experience all the more intimate.

Nine months ago he had started dating another employee of Marukawa publishing, and apart from the person being the chief-editor of a big manga magazine, it was a man. For him that was far more problematic than the fact that his partner, Kirishima Zen, had a daughter. There was nothing wrong with a single-parent finding another love. But the two of them being men was a matter of a much more delicate nature. They couldn't go out and hold hands at the train. They couldn't introduce each other's parents to each other. And actually, they couldn't just share a bed, especially not with a child around.

But today was different. It was Sunday, Hiyori was on a trip to Nagano together with her grandmother to engage in apple collecting, and in Tokyo it was raining since the day before.

Privacy and the rain which was tapping against the window, both were inviting him to stay in bed just a little longer. He felt that, as long as he kept his eyes shut, it was fine to lie like that.

Next to him he could hear Kirishima's steady breath and he started to wonder which time it was. They both were early birds, mostly to adjust to Hiyori's time schedule, so it couldn't be that late yet. He surpressed the curiosity which was tempting him to take a look at his wristwatch. If he lifted his arm he would have to show that he was actually awake.

For a short moment he tensed up as fingers twitched lightly against his back, but soon they stopped their motions again. It seemed that Kirishima was dreaming.

The night before they had come home together, dripping wet from the downpour, and - given how cold and overally miserable he had felt - Yokozawa hadn't made much of a fuss when his lover had prepared a hot bath for the two of them. It was not necessarily because he had WANTED to share the tub with Kirishima, but he also hadn't been very fond of the idea of one of them catching a cold.

It had been purely out of neccessity. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

While the bathing had been a surprisingly uneventful affair, things had gone off the rails when they had left the bathroom. In a relationship between two people who used to work sixty hours and more in one week, there was no denying that sometimes certain things had to happen when there was an opportunity presenting itself.

Yes, they had been tired. Yes, they had been craving the bed for the purpose of sleeping. But Kirishima had noticed the slot in their schedules and if there was one thing that he was craving more than any bed, any-thing- in the world, it was intimacy with Yokozawa. Even now Yokozawa could still feel a dull, but subtle pain in his lower regions. Like a hangover, some aftereffects of lovemaking were only detectable the day after. He really hoped he wouldn't find any hickies again.

Carefully he lifted his eyelids the slightest bit and traced Kirishima's face with his eyes. For somebody in his mid-thirties he still had very smooth skin and only very few wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. But that was rather a result of his hard work and not so much due to his age. The nose was perfectly shaped and together with those eyes, that looked like almond when seen under sunlight, they formed this face which made women stop in their motions and forget everything they were about to do.

Yokozawa really had no idea why Kirishima was going out with him, a man not even hitting thirty yet but starting to gather a fair share of wrinkles. Maybe slowly, but progressing nevertheless.

Following a sudden instinct, he lifted one hand and let his fingertips touch the ruffled brown hair in front of him. Hiyori's was the same, in color as well as in texture. He liked the feeling between his fingers when he helped her to put her hair in a pony tail or tied it with a ribbon. And, as embarrassing as it was to confess it even to himself, he also liked touching Kirishima's hair, for the same and different reasons. Of course he would never admit that to anybody.

The other man didn't seem to be disturbed by the touch and he let himself get carried away and brushed his fingers over the skin of Kirishima's cheek. It was really soft and flawless.

"Now the lower lip. Then you just have to dip your head forwards and kiss me."

Yokozawa immediately withdrew his hand like a child being caught with his fingers in the cookie jar.

"What the...!"

Broad hands pressed against his back and drew him closer to the other man until their chests touched. To be more accurate, their chests and other parts of their bodies.

"You read shoujo manga for work, don't you?", Kirishima whispered in a teasing manner. "You ought to know how this works, so finish what you started properly."

Yokozawa felt betrayed. He had been doing absolutely embarrassing things and...

"You've been awake!"

A sweet kiss was placed on the bridge of his nose before he was even given the chance to prepare for the attack.

"Pretending to be asleep while you pretend to be asleep is the best way to share some quality time together without you complaining."

He had seen right through him, and the revelation made him blush furiously. "I wasn't pretending!"

"Liar."

The next attack was launched at his neck, a ridiculously sensitive spot, and he tried to free himself from the embrace but those two arms only tightened around his upper body.

"I didn't intend on letting you know that I was awake, but then you went all shoujo on me, and what man on earth could stay responseless to that?", Kirishima continued with a wide smile.

"The hell 'shoujo'! Let go of me!"

"Are you sure? Your body is telling a different story, you know?"

He grumbled, for he could feel that this was not only a matter of his own private regions but also of the indeniable reaction of Kirishima's 'special parts' pressing against him.

After some inner struggle he sighed in defeat. "Fine. But I'll get up in five minutes."

"That's enough."

As Kirishima let his hand wander below his waistline and started to move his body against him, Yokozawa closed his eyes and allowed his fingers to dig into the soft hair that he liked so much.

Because as long as he kept his eyes shut, he could ignore his pride like a suit, letting it hang in the closet for just a little bit longer.

Next chapter: Yukina POV-ish