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tenipuri_xpDate: Let's just say early afternoon today (November 3rd)
Rating: PG-13 (only because the teacher/student relationship is potentially offensive)
Summary: Yamato finally makes a move and a whole new set of interesting complications arise.
Curiosity was eating him alive… it was not like he had never seen a teenaged boy’s bedroom before, he, himself, had one said bedroom in the past. The appeal was not what he was already ready to be faced with (a sound system, music, the standard dorm bed with standard out-of-the-package twin-long sheets). Rather, what had him counting the doors with one set of fingertips brushing over each doorknob until he came across the one that was supposed to be Kirihara’s was more of a bemused sort of interest in the occupant of the room; which, he had already rationalized before leaving the small kitten in his room to sleep in his luggage (her new favorite spot, ever since his assignment), had more to do with the adorably fast temper and oddly sweet interior than the black curls or the fascinating, violent red eyes.
Though, perhaps it was just as dangerous to believe that his fixation (and the attraction he would never speak of outside of time spent behind closed doors) stemmed from the endearing points of Kirihara’s personality rather than the fact that he was, indeed, physically attractive. Well… in sort of a feminine way; not exactly Yamato’s type, per say… except for maybe the black curls. Yes, a very dangerous train of thought, indeed… not that relative danger or stupidity had ever really stopped the blind man before. So, he knocked on the door, leaning back on his heels with a pleasant smile.
When the door opened with a creaking complaint of the hinges and a spill of angry boy music from within, part of him did wish he could have seen the look on Kirihara’s face, but another part of him was glad. He said nothing, folding his hands behind his back, and waited for the boy to acknowledge his presence on his own.
Another boring afternoon, evening and night. Okay, so maybe not so boring, he had homework to do, classes started again today, and woe, the teachers had to bug them with assignments already. And so he was sitting on the sill, with the window opened (he always worked better with fresh air), writing up whatever the idiots at school came up with. Naturally, with music playing in the background, it helped him focus and kept him in one place. Though, the volume wasn't at the usual level, no use in getting the white-haired prick annoyed again. Not that he was afraid or anything, just wasn't in a mood to deal with him.
His thoughts never strayed from the task at hand and Akaya almost missed the knock on his door. He stared for a second in the direction of the sound, before jumping from the window-sill, leaving the papers on the desk, and naturally opening the door...
... and Kirihara couldn't say he wasn't surprised to see just who he had as a visitor. He stared at the grinning man for long moments until he snapped out of it, greeted the man and let him in, closing the door. "What brings you here?" he asked puzzled. It was chilly in the room, though, he didn't feel it, never did, unless it was freezing and the window was still open.
Stepping past the younger boy, Yamato waited for the door to close before beginning to examine the room with his fingertips, staring at objects blindly from behind dark glasses as he examined each item – the stereo (the buttons he was careful not to touch for fear of the wrath of Kirihara), the stack of CD cases left precariously tilted beside it… some pencils (or pens), a can of soda… various other things lined the top of what seemed to be the dresser from the metal handles fixed on drawers. As he had expected, it really was a normal boy’s room. If he had been able to see, he would probably find pornography stored away somewhere and manly-printed boxers. For a split second, his mind actually traveled down the path of whether the younger boy wore boxers or briefs before Yamato decided it was not worth it to give that particular curiosity any thought.
Instead, he addressed the question that had been posed to him, humming in his throat a moment before commenting, “I didn’t realize I needed a reason to come see you. In the future, I’ll make sure to have one.” Naturally, though honest, that answer would not be enough for Kirihara – he seemed to dislike Yamato’s way of never directly answering a question; accused him of never being serious… even though that was just Yamato being Yamato.
Nonetheless, for the sake of his younger companion, Yamato added on in a slightly softer voice, “Would you believe me if I said I missed you this weekend… and that I wanted to see you?”
Akaya could just... glare and well... glare. Even though the older man probably wasn't aware of that, as he was completely blind at the moment. But goddamnit... "No, I wouldn't and stop joking... teasing... or whatever you're doing..." he snapped and stalked to his previous spot on the sill, keeping his hands to himself though. Blowing something up right now was out of question, thankyouverymuch.
And Kirihara was still glaring and... sulking.
In the same relaxed manner as he did everything, Yamato approached the window, operating on guesswork alone to settle his hands on either side of Kirihara against the sill, one hand coming just a bit too close and brushing inadvertently over the boy’s thigh before finding the woodwork. He was only at a slight height disadvantage with the boy perched on the window and the man standing flatfoot… normally he was quite a bit taller than the boy. As Yamato tilted his head to look blindly at his companion, it was as though the air became tense between them – silent, but heavy with the words that went unspoken.
“You’re going to have to just trust me this one time, then,” said the man, breaking into the silence. He plucked his sunglasses from his face, settling them on the ledge, leaning forward enough that Kirihara’s legs were pressed against the man’s stomach. “I have no reason to joke about wanting to see you…” The man’s head tilted slightly to the side, the skin of his arms breaking out into geese flesh as the sweater he wore was really no match for the cool breeze filtering in through the window. Ignoring any mild discomfort, he added, “Unless you were thinking the same thing. In that case, I suppose I’d be inadvertently teasing you.”
Akaya felt trapped. The only way out would be to jump down from the window. But... he wouldn't try that again. Last time, just by a mere luck, he didn't break anything, so yeah... better not try it for a second time (at least for now). This left him stuck with the man
so close again. Way tooclosetooclosetooclose...
He felt his knees pressing into Yamato's stomach and didn't think it was comfortable (for the man probably neither). His body's natural reaction was to shift (or rather, spread the legs) to a better position, but NO WAY! He could put up with the current one.
"Why should I trust you?" Kirihara asked, voice low, quiet and audibly uncertain. He was tense, there was just something about the older man's voice (seriousness maybe?) that kept him from bolting and hightailing the situation.
Considering the question a moment, Yamato shrugged. "You shouldn't," he responded. He could feel the press of knees into his abdomen with every breath... not particularly comfortable, really. Though, he did not move to remedy that fact. "I never said you should trust me, just that you'll have to." Casually, he leaned away just enough that Kirhara could move his legs (really, it was an invitation to be kicked, though Yamato doubted the younger mutant would be violent with him) and that Yamato could properly breathe without the restriction of the knees against his stomach.
The playful smile returned to his lips, eyes sparkling with some private amusement. "I'd ask if you missed me, too, but I'd be called an idiot, from my experience." One hand lifted from the sill once more touching lightly below Kirihara's chin. "Which either means I'm an idiot for assuming you would, or an idiot for assuming you wouldn't. It's hard to tell if you'd rather I stay here or be as far away as possible."
Akaya was at loss, to be honest he didn't have a clue whichever he would prefer. Yamato was frustrating enough to be around, but at the same time... Kirihara felt more at ease with him, most of the time the man accepted everything he did. And... the vivid dreams he had lately... little flush covered his cheeks at the thought. He would die if the man ever found out. Blah... all of this confused him even more. He got lost in his thoughts for few moments, but... but that helped him make up his mind. Two could play this game, right~?
He leaned just by a mere millimetre into the touch, tilting his head and looked straight into the palely green (blind) eyes. "If you think logically the answer is pretty simple." And it was simple, if it was the latter, the older mutant would find himself with Kirihara's fist in his gut the second he opened his mouth. Though, it wasn't the former exactly either. This was the part where the boy always got lost... and he hoped he would get some answers tonight.
With a low hum in the back of his throat, Yamato moved marginally forward as well, his eyes falling half-lidded. "That's fair," he muttered, "but you can't hit me if I'm wrong." Hardly giving the boy a chance to argue, he closed the remaining distance between them, pressing his lips gently against Kirihara's; a proper (though chaste) kiss, unlike the brushing half-kiss they had shared before. There would be no mistaking it as a friendly or accidental gesture, nor would there be any means to deny the intention behind it, should Yamato even care to try.
Drawing away, well prepared to be punched despite his disclaimer, Yamato commented impishly, "I don't think you want me to leave or to stay; I think you want me to be closer."
It wasn't his first kiss, it was chaste, simple and didn't last long. Yet... Akaya had to agree it felt better than any other he ever had before. And it was the first time he could agree with his sister, that kisses were more intimate than sex.
Kirihara damned the confusion and wanted more... but... laughed out loud at Yamato's comment, "Seriously senpai. That was... lame." More snickers or rather... giggles followed as he slid down from the sill (almost tripping them both) and closed the window. His back was getting cold by now.
"Lame?" parroted Yamato. "I was going for endearingly ridiculous." He stepped aside to allow Kirihara the room to close the window, snatching up his sunglasses once more from the sill, twirling them in one hand. He waited patiently a moment before reaching out with his free hand, finding one of the belt loops of Kirihara's pants and tugging lightly at it, compelling the boy toward him just a bit, again. Silly or not, he was sure he was right about what he had said. His own feelings on the situation were rather apathetic -- he liked Kirihara, but whether it was worth it...
"You know, we can't do this. If this becomes public knowledge, I could lose my job." Which was nothing like saying that Yamato did not want all that was implied by that statement... he was normally not the sort to become sentimentally attached to another person, at least, not like this. It was fascinating, really, the way that he couldn't help but let that hand wander from the belt loop where it had latched to settle just behind and above the crook of the other mutant's hipbone over his lower back.
Akaya could only sigh quietly at the wandering hand, closing his eyes as it finally settled on the small of his back. "Which reminds me... I should call you "sensei", shouldn't I?" he asked bitterly, immediately feeling sick as the word escaped his lips. It didn't feel right, especially now... as he was being pressed against the older man. He would lie if he said he didn't care about this... so he didn't and just kept silent.
Kirihara's mind still couldn't get a grip on whatever it was that he was feeling. He shouldn't calmly like that agree to their current position, he shouldn't have left the kiss from before without any reaction... actually... there were many things that he shouldn’t have been doing from the start, but he... had.
"Honestly speaking," replied the older man, "I'd like it if you called me Yuudai. Though, perhaps it would be poor form." Not many people did call him by his first name... actually, other than his family, no one did, anymore. He did not really believe in the old tested and true tradition about first names, addressing everyone with the same, uniform courtesy. Well, everyone but Akaya... though that had really been taken up in teasing, at first; the older mutant could not have anticipated the... somewhat more serious development of their relationship from there.
Still smiling, he bowed his head down to press his lips against Kirihara's neck, nuzzling his nose in the boy's hair. "Perhaps you ought to just stick with 'sempai' when others are around, for now, Akaya." The last was whispered against the boy's ear before Yamato straightened, the hand on the boy's back creeping slowly upward until it settled between the shorter boy's shoulder blades.
His back... was sensitive... like... very sensitive... and whatever Akaya wanted to say turned into low and quiet purr. He licked his lips, finally getting his mind back and tried the name. Spoken out loud, in his voice, by him, made him blush, "Could always call you an idiot," he said instead, with an impish grin, "but it's getting old, I suppose." And with that, not waiting for an answer, he pushed himself up on his tiptoes, kissing Yamato gently, both, cold hands on the older man's cheeks.
As a natural reaction, Yamato’s other arm wrapped around the student’s waist, holding the boy in place as he tilted his head down to save Akaya some trouble. The fingers against his cheeks were starkly cold against the warmth of the kiss – though the cold that the window had let in was long forgotten as their chests knocked together lightly, the arch of a thin hipbone pressing into Yamato’s thigh. Akaya was wonderfully compliant to the touch – his back curving into the gentle touch of warm fingers and his lips parting just slightly to allow Yamato to deepen the kiss.
If there was one part of his power that Yamato, unfortunately, had little control over, it was keeping out of the sensations of a person he was in close physical contact with – he had the odd experience more than once in the past of feeling his own stomach knot with the sensation of a gentle touch he laid upon another – just because he had too little experience in that particular arena to have any measure of stable control. He could feel the same thing happening now, his senses melding naturally together with Kirihara’s, creating a whole second set of sensations from the kiss that brought him sharply to reality – his power did not react well with Kirihara’s… even if his body was doing just fine where they were.
He pulled away slowly, drawing his power back and whispering a near-silent apology against Akaya’s lips for the intrusion; it was anything but intentional. He had learned, however, just how sensitive the boy was to the warm touch on his back… and that his feet began to ache from standing on tiptoe. “I should have warned you about that,” said the man quietly, his voice still apologetic, though he wore his usual devil-may-care smile.
The kiss was going smoothly, and even if Akaya was generally averse to touch, at the moment the idea of pushing Yamato away was not even close to forming in his mind. Being kissed like that, by a man was different... which lead naturally to the fact, that he was indeed being kissed by another man... but... he couldn't care less, he was fine with whole female population going to hell (well, maybe with some exceptions).
Kirihara couldn't help the soft whine that escaped him at the loss. Lips wet and still tingling pleasantly. He was lost so much in the kiss, the energy calmer than usual and, for once, just letting him be, that he didn't notice the invasion nor did his power have any time to react this time around. Which left him confused as just for what Yamato was apologizing... and what he was talking about? Eh?
He slid down, to stand flat on his feet, because really, standing on a tiptoe for so long was uncomfortable, to say at least, and looked up at the older mutant, "Tell me about what?" He inquired curiously, tongue darting out to lick lazily his lips again.
Blinking back, Yamato laughed. “You didn’t even notice,” it was a statement more than a question, as one of Yamato’s hands left Kirihara’s back to settle in his hair. “I don’t have a lot of control over my powers when I’m this close. I haven’t really had a reason to worry about it – no human would notice the invasion of my powers, and most mutants don’t experience a bad reaction… some don’t even notice what I’m doing. But, your power doesn’t like me.” His fingers had laced into black curls absently, barely resisting the urge to play with thick, dark hair. “I… accidentally borrowed your senses a moment ago. I guess it didn’t cause a problem this time, but it could. I’ll need to be more wary of it, in the future.”
Which was to say, quite frankly, that he suspected there would be a future to follow that kiss. Though perhaps now, precisely, was not the time. If he had lost control once, he could quite possibly do so all-too-easily again. He wondered if perhaps he could bring this particular problem up in training with Echizen… he would have to ask the boy about it later. There was also the matter of Kirihara’s own power that could potentially cause all sorts of troubles, considering… he was not going to think that far down the road just yet. Worry about control, first. Worry about Akaya, later.
Though, worrying was not really in his nature. Briefly he gave Kirihara one last kiss on the forehead before drawing away, ironing out imaginary wrinkles in his sweater with his hands before settling his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “So, perhaps I should go – don’t want to cause any trouble, now.” Like, inadvertently being the reason something blew up… like, Yamato himself. He was worried that his control was fraying just a bit at the edges; nothing he could not handle, but it would be easier without temptation looking him in the eye… so to speak.
Akaya made a face, "My power doesn't like anyone... me included." He cursed his mutation inwardly, but... "Well, yeah, I didn't. Strangely enough I feel... calm. Kind of. Not tired, just... calm." He shrugged and wanted to complain about the man drawing away but decided against it. Music stopped playing some time ago, his mind noted...
... and he didn't want Yamato to go. Kind of. Though... he had to think things over... sorta... he wondered what there was to think about... well, not much really, but still. And he still had homework to do. His mind was racing to find an excuse to keep the other here for a bit longer, but didn't find any. With a sigh, he gave up, "... if you say so ..."
Flashing his best lady-killer grin, Yamato winked. “I say so,” he responded lightheartedly. He returned his glasses to the bridge of his nose, pausing a moment after adjusting them properly before speaking again. “Logically, I shouldn’t have let you kiss me in the first place,” he added, a laugh bubbling out of him as he spoke. “Though I’ve found you have little to do with logic, Akaya.” Not that words like those meant much coming from Yamato himself.
Finding his way to the door, but not without colliding with the bedpost (ouch) first, Yamato rested his hand on the doorknob. “I think this is a perfect invitation to work on our control. Let’s… until we’re sure you aren’t going to blow something up, let’s be more… discriminating before we do that again.” He put his free hand to the back of his head, looking almost shy for just a moment. “But – when you do, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you out again.” He wondered, now, if the answer would have changed. He assumed so, but assuming was a more dangerous game than Kirihara himself.
Akaya flushed a pretty shade of scarlet, red eyes widening. [1] Yamato didn't have to talk about the kiss. [2] What the hell did he imply with Akaya blasting something... ok... when his mind got around whatever the older man meant, he blushed even harder. Grabbing a pillow from his bed (making sure the energy was under total control) he threw it at the other. This distraction made him forget about the [3]... which would get the blind mutant literally kicked out. Kirihara might not mind doing things but he hated talking about them.
With a feigned “oof” of surprise when the pillow hit him, Yamato caught the offending piece of bedding before it could hit the floor. “What have I told you about attacking the blind?” Grinning, he tossed it back gently, turning the doorknob. “You know where to find me if you get bored,” he said with a lazy drawl to his voice, and left before something harder could be thrown at his head, closing the door carefully in his wake.
He stood there a moment, waiting until the music started up again before finding his way back to his room in the same manner as he had managed to Kirihara’s. He would not think about it too much, he promised himself lightly. Though there was a small voice in his head, taunting him quietly; to his dismay, that little voice could not be more right.
Oh Yuudai, spoke the voice, you are in trouble.
Rating: PG-13 (only because the teacher/student relationship is potentially offensive)
Summary: Yamato finally makes a move and a whole new set of interesting complications arise.
Curiosity was eating him alive… it was not like he had never seen a teenaged boy’s bedroom before, he, himself, had one said bedroom in the past. The appeal was not what he was already ready to be faced with (a sound system, music, the standard dorm bed with standard out-of-the-package twin-long sheets). Rather, what had him counting the doors with one set of fingertips brushing over each doorknob until he came across the one that was supposed to be Kirihara’s was more of a bemused sort of interest in the occupant of the room; which, he had already rationalized before leaving the small kitten in his room to sleep in his luggage (her new favorite spot, ever since his assignment), had more to do with the adorably fast temper and oddly sweet interior than the black curls or the fascinating, violent red eyes.
Though, perhaps it was just as dangerous to believe that his fixation (and the attraction he would never speak of outside of time spent behind closed doors) stemmed from the endearing points of Kirihara’s personality rather than the fact that he was, indeed, physically attractive. Well… in sort of a feminine way; not exactly Yamato’s type, per say… except for maybe the black curls. Yes, a very dangerous train of thought, indeed… not that relative danger or stupidity had ever really stopped the blind man before. So, he knocked on the door, leaning back on his heels with a pleasant smile.
When the door opened with a creaking complaint of the hinges and a spill of angry boy music from within, part of him did wish he could have seen the look on Kirihara’s face, but another part of him was glad. He said nothing, folding his hands behind his back, and waited for the boy to acknowledge his presence on his own.
Another boring afternoon, evening and night. Okay, so maybe not so boring, he had homework to do, classes started again today, and woe, the teachers had to bug them with assignments already. And so he was sitting on the sill, with the window opened (he always worked better with fresh air), writing up whatever the idiots at school came up with. Naturally, with music playing in the background, it helped him focus and kept him in one place. Though, the volume wasn't at the usual level, no use in getting the white-haired prick annoyed again. Not that he was afraid or anything, just wasn't in a mood to deal with him.
His thoughts never strayed from the task at hand and Akaya almost missed the knock on his door. He stared for a second in the direction of the sound, before jumping from the window-sill, leaving the papers on the desk, and naturally opening the door...
... and Kirihara couldn't say he wasn't surprised to see just who he had as a visitor. He stared at the grinning man for long moments until he snapped out of it, greeted the man and let him in, closing the door. "What brings you here?" he asked puzzled. It was chilly in the room, though, he didn't feel it, never did, unless it was freezing and the window was still open.
Stepping past the younger boy, Yamato waited for the door to close before beginning to examine the room with his fingertips, staring at objects blindly from behind dark glasses as he examined each item – the stereo (the buttons he was careful not to touch for fear of the wrath of Kirihara), the stack of CD cases left precariously tilted beside it… some pencils (or pens), a can of soda… various other things lined the top of what seemed to be the dresser from the metal handles fixed on drawers. As he had expected, it really was a normal boy’s room. If he had been able to see, he would probably find pornography stored away somewhere and manly-printed boxers. For a split second, his mind actually traveled down the path of whether the younger boy wore boxers or briefs before Yamato decided it was not worth it to give that particular curiosity any thought.
Instead, he addressed the question that had been posed to him, humming in his throat a moment before commenting, “I didn’t realize I needed a reason to come see you. In the future, I’ll make sure to have one.” Naturally, though honest, that answer would not be enough for Kirihara – he seemed to dislike Yamato’s way of never directly answering a question; accused him of never being serious… even though that was just Yamato being Yamato.
Nonetheless, for the sake of his younger companion, Yamato added on in a slightly softer voice, “Would you believe me if I said I missed you this weekend… and that I wanted to see you?”
Akaya could just... glare and well... glare. Even though the older man probably wasn't aware of that, as he was completely blind at the moment. But goddamnit... "No, I wouldn't and stop joking... teasing... or whatever you're doing..." he snapped and stalked to his previous spot on the sill, keeping his hands to himself though. Blowing something up right now was out of question, thankyouverymuch.
And Kirihara was still glaring and... sulking.
In the same relaxed manner as he did everything, Yamato approached the window, operating on guesswork alone to settle his hands on either side of Kirihara against the sill, one hand coming just a bit too close and brushing inadvertently over the boy’s thigh before finding the woodwork. He was only at a slight height disadvantage with the boy perched on the window and the man standing flatfoot… normally he was quite a bit taller than the boy. As Yamato tilted his head to look blindly at his companion, it was as though the air became tense between them – silent, but heavy with the words that went unspoken.
“You’re going to have to just trust me this one time, then,” said the man, breaking into the silence. He plucked his sunglasses from his face, settling them on the ledge, leaning forward enough that Kirihara’s legs were pressed against the man’s stomach. “I have no reason to joke about wanting to see you…” The man’s head tilted slightly to the side, the skin of his arms breaking out into geese flesh as the sweater he wore was really no match for the cool breeze filtering in through the window. Ignoring any mild discomfort, he added, “Unless you were thinking the same thing. In that case, I suppose I’d be inadvertently teasing you.”
Akaya felt trapped. The only way out would be to jump down from the window. But... he wouldn't try that again. Last time, just by a mere luck, he didn't break anything, so yeah... better not try it for a second time (at least for now). This left him stuck with the man
so close again. Way tooclosetooclosetooclose...
He felt his knees pressing into Yamato's stomach and didn't think it was comfortable (for the man probably neither). His body's natural reaction was to shift (or rather, spread the legs) to a better position, but NO WAY! He could put up with the current one.
"Why should I trust you?" Kirihara asked, voice low, quiet and audibly uncertain. He was tense, there was just something about the older man's voice (seriousness maybe?) that kept him from bolting and hightailing the situation.
Considering the question a moment, Yamato shrugged. "You shouldn't," he responded. He could feel the press of knees into his abdomen with every breath... not particularly comfortable, really. Though, he did not move to remedy that fact. "I never said you should trust me, just that you'll have to." Casually, he leaned away just enough that Kirhara could move his legs (really, it was an invitation to be kicked, though Yamato doubted the younger mutant would be violent with him) and that Yamato could properly breathe without the restriction of the knees against his stomach.
The playful smile returned to his lips, eyes sparkling with some private amusement. "I'd ask if you missed me, too, but I'd be called an idiot, from my experience." One hand lifted from the sill once more touching lightly below Kirihara's chin. "Which either means I'm an idiot for assuming you would, or an idiot for assuming you wouldn't. It's hard to tell if you'd rather I stay here or be as far away as possible."
Akaya was at loss, to be honest he didn't have a clue whichever he would prefer. Yamato was frustrating enough to be around, but at the same time... Kirihara felt more at ease with him, most of the time the man accepted everything he did. And... the vivid dreams he had lately... little flush covered his cheeks at the thought. He would die if the man ever found out. Blah... all of this confused him even more. He got lost in his thoughts for few moments, but... but that helped him make up his mind. Two could play this game, right~?
He leaned just by a mere millimetre into the touch, tilting his head and looked straight into the palely green (blind) eyes. "If you think logically the answer is pretty simple." And it was simple, if it was the latter, the older mutant would find himself with Kirihara's fist in his gut the second he opened his mouth. Though, it wasn't the former exactly either. This was the part where the boy always got lost... and he hoped he would get some answers tonight.
With a low hum in the back of his throat, Yamato moved marginally forward as well, his eyes falling half-lidded. "That's fair," he muttered, "but you can't hit me if I'm wrong." Hardly giving the boy a chance to argue, he closed the remaining distance between them, pressing his lips gently against Kirihara's; a proper (though chaste) kiss, unlike the brushing half-kiss they had shared before. There would be no mistaking it as a friendly or accidental gesture, nor would there be any means to deny the intention behind it, should Yamato even care to try.
Drawing away, well prepared to be punched despite his disclaimer, Yamato commented impishly, "I don't think you want me to leave or to stay; I think you want me to be closer."
It wasn't his first kiss, it was chaste, simple and didn't last long. Yet... Akaya had to agree it felt better than any other he ever had before. And it was the first time he could agree with his sister, that kisses were more intimate than sex.
Kirihara damned the confusion and wanted more... but... laughed out loud at Yamato's comment, "Seriously senpai. That was... lame." More snickers or rather... giggles followed as he slid down from the sill (almost tripping them both) and closed the window. His back was getting cold by now.
"Lame?" parroted Yamato. "I was going for endearingly ridiculous." He stepped aside to allow Kirihara the room to close the window, snatching up his sunglasses once more from the sill, twirling them in one hand. He waited patiently a moment before reaching out with his free hand, finding one of the belt loops of Kirihara's pants and tugging lightly at it, compelling the boy toward him just a bit, again. Silly or not, he was sure he was right about what he had said. His own feelings on the situation were rather apathetic -- he liked Kirihara, but whether it was worth it...
"You know, we can't do this. If this becomes public knowledge, I could lose my job." Which was nothing like saying that Yamato did not want all that was implied by that statement... he was normally not the sort to become sentimentally attached to another person, at least, not like this. It was fascinating, really, the way that he couldn't help but let that hand wander from the belt loop where it had latched to settle just behind and above the crook of the other mutant's hipbone over his lower back.
Akaya could only sigh quietly at the wandering hand, closing his eyes as it finally settled on the small of his back. "Which reminds me... I should call you "sensei", shouldn't I?" he asked bitterly, immediately feeling sick as the word escaped his lips. It didn't feel right, especially now... as he was being pressed against the older man. He would lie if he said he didn't care about this... so he didn't and just kept silent.
Kirihara's mind still couldn't get a grip on whatever it was that he was feeling. He shouldn't calmly like that agree to their current position, he shouldn't have left the kiss from before without any reaction... actually... there were many things that he shouldn’t have been doing from the start, but he... had.
"Honestly speaking," replied the older man, "I'd like it if you called me Yuudai. Though, perhaps it would be poor form." Not many people did call him by his first name... actually, other than his family, no one did, anymore. He did not really believe in the old tested and true tradition about first names, addressing everyone with the same, uniform courtesy. Well, everyone but Akaya... though that had really been taken up in teasing, at first; the older mutant could not have anticipated the... somewhat more serious development of their relationship from there.
Still smiling, he bowed his head down to press his lips against Kirihara's neck, nuzzling his nose in the boy's hair. "Perhaps you ought to just stick with 'sempai' when others are around, for now, Akaya." The last was whispered against the boy's ear before Yamato straightened, the hand on the boy's back creeping slowly upward until it settled between the shorter boy's shoulder blades.
His back... was sensitive... like... very sensitive... and whatever Akaya wanted to say turned into low and quiet purr. He licked his lips, finally getting his mind back and tried the name. Spoken out loud, in his voice, by him, made him blush, "Could always call you an idiot," he said instead, with an impish grin, "but it's getting old, I suppose." And with that, not waiting for an answer, he pushed himself up on his tiptoes, kissing Yamato gently, both, cold hands on the older man's cheeks.
As a natural reaction, Yamato’s other arm wrapped around the student’s waist, holding the boy in place as he tilted his head down to save Akaya some trouble. The fingers against his cheeks were starkly cold against the warmth of the kiss – though the cold that the window had let in was long forgotten as their chests knocked together lightly, the arch of a thin hipbone pressing into Yamato’s thigh. Akaya was wonderfully compliant to the touch – his back curving into the gentle touch of warm fingers and his lips parting just slightly to allow Yamato to deepen the kiss.
If there was one part of his power that Yamato, unfortunately, had little control over, it was keeping out of the sensations of a person he was in close physical contact with – he had the odd experience more than once in the past of feeling his own stomach knot with the sensation of a gentle touch he laid upon another – just because he had too little experience in that particular arena to have any measure of stable control. He could feel the same thing happening now, his senses melding naturally together with Kirihara’s, creating a whole second set of sensations from the kiss that brought him sharply to reality – his power did not react well with Kirihara’s… even if his body was doing just fine where they were.
He pulled away slowly, drawing his power back and whispering a near-silent apology against Akaya’s lips for the intrusion; it was anything but intentional. He had learned, however, just how sensitive the boy was to the warm touch on his back… and that his feet began to ache from standing on tiptoe. “I should have warned you about that,” said the man quietly, his voice still apologetic, though he wore his usual devil-may-care smile.
The kiss was going smoothly, and even if Akaya was generally averse to touch, at the moment the idea of pushing Yamato away was not even close to forming in his mind. Being kissed like that, by a man was different... which lead naturally to the fact, that he was indeed being kissed by another man... but... he couldn't care less, he was fine with whole female population going to hell (well, maybe with some exceptions).
Kirihara couldn't help the soft whine that escaped him at the loss. Lips wet and still tingling pleasantly. He was lost so much in the kiss, the energy calmer than usual and, for once, just letting him be, that he didn't notice the invasion nor did his power have any time to react this time around. Which left him confused as just for what Yamato was apologizing... and what he was talking about? Eh?
He slid down, to stand flat on his feet, because really, standing on a tiptoe for so long was uncomfortable, to say at least, and looked up at the older mutant, "Tell me about what?" He inquired curiously, tongue darting out to lick lazily his lips again.
Blinking back, Yamato laughed. “You didn’t even notice,” it was a statement more than a question, as one of Yamato’s hands left Kirihara’s back to settle in his hair. “I don’t have a lot of control over my powers when I’m this close. I haven’t really had a reason to worry about it – no human would notice the invasion of my powers, and most mutants don’t experience a bad reaction… some don’t even notice what I’m doing. But, your power doesn’t like me.” His fingers had laced into black curls absently, barely resisting the urge to play with thick, dark hair. “I… accidentally borrowed your senses a moment ago. I guess it didn’t cause a problem this time, but it could. I’ll need to be more wary of it, in the future.”
Which was to say, quite frankly, that he suspected there would be a future to follow that kiss. Though perhaps now, precisely, was not the time. If he had lost control once, he could quite possibly do so all-too-easily again. He wondered if perhaps he could bring this particular problem up in training with Echizen… he would have to ask the boy about it later. There was also the matter of Kirihara’s own power that could potentially cause all sorts of troubles, considering… he was not going to think that far down the road just yet. Worry about control, first. Worry about Akaya, later.
Though, worrying was not really in his nature. Briefly he gave Kirihara one last kiss on the forehead before drawing away, ironing out imaginary wrinkles in his sweater with his hands before settling his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “So, perhaps I should go – don’t want to cause any trouble, now.” Like, inadvertently being the reason something blew up… like, Yamato himself. He was worried that his control was fraying just a bit at the edges; nothing he could not handle, but it would be easier without temptation looking him in the eye… so to speak.
Akaya made a face, "My power doesn't like anyone... me included." He cursed his mutation inwardly, but... "Well, yeah, I didn't. Strangely enough I feel... calm. Kind of. Not tired, just... calm." He shrugged and wanted to complain about the man drawing away but decided against it. Music stopped playing some time ago, his mind noted...
... and he didn't want Yamato to go. Kind of. Though... he had to think things over... sorta... he wondered what there was to think about... well, not much really, but still. And he still had homework to do. His mind was racing to find an excuse to keep the other here for a bit longer, but didn't find any. With a sigh, he gave up, "... if you say so ..."
Flashing his best lady-killer grin, Yamato winked. “I say so,” he responded lightheartedly. He returned his glasses to the bridge of his nose, pausing a moment after adjusting them properly before speaking again. “Logically, I shouldn’t have let you kiss me in the first place,” he added, a laugh bubbling out of him as he spoke. “Though I’ve found you have little to do with logic, Akaya.” Not that words like those meant much coming from Yamato himself.
Finding his way to the door, but not without colliding with the bedpost (ouch) first, Yamato rested his hand on the doorknob. “I think this is a perfect invitation to work on our control. Let’s… until we’re sure you aren’t going to blow something up, let’s be more… discriminating before we do that again.” He put his free hand to the back of his head, looking almost shy for just a moment. “But – when you do, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you out again.” He wondered, now, if the answer would have changed. He assumed so, but assuming was a more dangerous game than Kirihara himself.
Akaya flushed a pretty shade of scarlet, red eyes widening. [1] Yamato didn't have to talk about the kiss. [2] What the hell did he imply with Akaya blasting something... ok... when his mind got around whatever the older man meant, he blushed even harder. Grabbing a pillow from his bed (making sure the energy was under total control) he threw it at the other. This distraction made him forget about the [3]... which would get the blind mutant literally kicked out. Kirihara might not mind doing things but he hated talking about them.
With a feigned “oof” of surprise when the pillow hit him, Yamato caught the offending piece of bedding before it could hit the floor. “What have I told you about attacking the blind?” Grinning, he tossed it back gently, turning the doorknob. “You know where to find me if you get bored,” he said with a lazy drawl to his voice, and left before something harder could be thrown at his head, closing the door carefully in his wake.
He stood there a moment, waiting until the music started up again before finding his way back to his room in the same manner as he had managed to Kirihara’s. He would not think about it too much, he promised himself lightly. Though there was a small voice in his head, taunting him quietly; to his dismay, that little voice could not be more right.
Oh Yuudai, spoke the voice, you are in trouble.
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Date: 2005-11-04 09:04 pm (UTC)oh the LOVE <3
....that is all.
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Date: 2005-11-04 09:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-04 11:01 pm (UTC)