Burning his lungs so that he could feel his senses grow numb was a behaviour his lover could never understand. But he says he always liked his kisses and the taste of his tar stained tongue so he both hated and loved it at the same time. His lover, this always boggles the red head's mind. Sometimes, it felts like uttering it was such a sin that he feels something at the pit of his stomach. However, most of the time, it feels so right that he wants to call him affectionately, take him into his arms like a baby and drive every stiffness and peel off every shred of control that he has and take him naked and vulnerable.
When the Red King asked the Blue King what they were after doing it a few rounds, the blue was silent and just continued on playing with the tuft of the red's hair twirling and twirling it on his fingers like a string. The clock was ticking as they just lazed around together their limbs tangled, not thinking about their roles as kings, forgetting about the hours left until Reishi will return to being the Blue King and leave. In this ritual they were always just two human beings wanting each other's company. Nothing more nothing less, and Mikoto wishes for him to never leave this room where they can be whatever they want to be.
But Reishi will go. And Mikoto would try to stop him by arousing him, touching him again, tracing his frame using the tip of his electric fingers that Reishi was always weak for. But the Blue King would always tell him to stop in a dismissive manner, making Mikoto's will falter and he can't help but let him go bit by bit until his mind becomes comfortable of Reishi's going. He's always confronted with this dilemma. And even when he wants to meet him, even when he wants to hear his voice, he doesn't call. Reishi doesn't call. They don't even have each other's phone numbers or so Reishi believes. But Mikoto, Mikoto has the other's phone number and when he gets too drunk, or higher than the Burj Kalifa, his minds always drifts to Reishi and his fingers automatically dials the blue's number. He knows it like the back of his hand.
His heart rate slows down and his body trembles at the anticipation of him picking up the phone call. It always burned his heart with an intense longing that he couldn't describe and that makes him want to rush to him and take him away. His heart inflates because of stress and his fingers quiver until the ringing stops and then he hears his voice. His deep and winter frost voice.
"Hello, Munakata Reishi speaking."
His enunciations were always crisp and clear. And Mikoto would always feel satisfied just hearing him utter even just a single word. The red king wouldn't answer, he wouldn't introduce himself as Suoh Mikoto, or the red king, he will simply hang up and wallow in sexual frustration. One time, when he finally had the courage to speak, Reishi immediately recognised his voice. And the time after that and after until both of them found themselves speaking on the phone, for real. Then Reishi asks
"Why'd you only call me when you're high?"