Smut incoming. It's not abundant in quantity or terribly explicit, but I figure some fanservice is in order after the last chapter.
I.
The first time it happens, two airship captains have waylaid an inordinately busy researcher into attending a "tea party." In mid-afternoon. Again. Akari seldom converses during these occasions, preferring instead to impart his considerable wisdom upon more astute interlocutors. So he drinks. After his third scotch, the blond realizes he's headed towards the kind of hangover that results in malpractice. He opts to retire. The room spins as he stands. When he places his hand on the table to steady himself, another settles on top of it lightly.
"Are you okay, Akari-san?" Hirato asks, mischief curling his tone.
"Of course I am. I'm not some idiotic teenager unaware of his own limits." ...unlike you two, he thinks as he stalks off.
II.
Akari loses a patient. It's rare for him, no doubt, but he supposes that infrequency only exacerbates feelings of helplessness. He's in his office reviewing the course of treatment and any mistakes contained therein when a black-clad figure enters without knocking.
"What do you want?" The words lack their customary venom.
"Are you okay, doctor?" Hirato inquires in a subdued voice, his trademark deviltry absent from violet irises. He appears sincere. It's unnerving. And Akari hasn't the wherewithal to play games.
"I'm fine. Just too tired for your schemes at present."
Hirato leaves wordlessly.
III.
The physician readjusts his necktie; he'll have to be mindful today. He's wondering if being marked like so is worth the sensation of Hirato's teeth scoring delicate flesh when his cellphone chimes, registering a text.
Akari, are you okay regarding last night's events?
How presumptuous. One night with you is not sufficient to unmoor my sanity.
No? How about two then? Another chime. Or twenty?
IV.
'Scandalous' is far too mild a word. Hirato has the SSS-ranked researcher bent over his own desk, graceful fingers pressing into a hipbone with enough force to bruise. Truly, this is debauchery at its finest. But neither man is the underachieving sort, and 'finest' isn't quite adequate. As such, the captain lifts his knee onto the desktop, bringing along a pale, lean leg with it. The doctor's resultant moan verges on musical, yes, but they've crafted whole arias thusly. When Hirato grips the opposite edge for leverage, Akari's back arches and his hands scrabble impotently for purchase. The brunet slides his tongue along the shell of an ear, whispering in a concerned manner entirely incongruous with such rough handling. "Akari, are-"
"Ask me if I'm okay now," the blond manages between gasps, "...and I'll kill you."
A dark chuckle, and then Hirato's mouth closes over his neck and bites down. Hard. Akari's vision blazes white as he's rendered completely, blissfully insensible while secure hands hold him steady and soft lips skim along his shoulder-blade.
V.
Akari is okay. Even so, Hirato will never stop asking.
NB: Hey guys, let me know if this chapter is too smutty for the rating and/or too crackish for proper characterization. I'm kind of ambivalent about it. Anyway, I can always delete it and write something else if you prefer.