Author's Notes: written for the Yaoi Challenge 2004 on LJ: “Your Prompt: Second Thoughts. A character tries to convince his lover … that what they are doing is worth it, that their relationship is worth the trouble or risk. How he does the convincing is up to you. … *g* Have fun … due date is: November 30” (additional notes at the end).

“I’m sorry, but we can’t go on like this. I can’t accept second-best – you think it’s not necessary to acknowledge our relationship; it obviously doesn’t mean enough to you. Fine. But it’s important to me – if having you means I need to hide, I can’t do it anymore.”

Moments later, he was gone, the door closing behind him with a gentle ‘click’. So that was it? Twenty-six years of friendship all washed down the drain? And why? He’d said ‘I love you’; that should have been enough. It had been a big step for him and he had believed his lover would appreciate it. However, he was taking offence at the fact it hadn’t been acknowledged in the form of a public outing in front of the entire office.

He wasn’t like that; he didn’t lay himself open in such a way. He looked out of the window, rethinking their argument. If his lover truly believed he wasn’t serious in his intentions, there had obviously been a miscommunication. Which he would, of course, rectify as soon as possible.

“Tsuzuki, I need to talk to you.”

“Mmhh.” Watari sighed; his friend was gazing at the sweets in front of him starry-eyed, puppy ears pricked up attentively, face flushed. It would have been cute, if Watari hadn’t minded being ignored in favour of baked goods. He glanced at Tsuzuki’s partner across the table questioningly.

“I’ll take a message, he’s currently overdosing on Wakaba-chan’s brownies,” Hisoka sounded properly annoyed, though the indulgent half-smile hovering around his lips gave him away. Watari wasn’t of a mind to point it out to him.

“Right. How long will he be off in candy-land, you think?”

The boy considered this for a moment, mumbling to himself before declaring, in perfect seriousness, “Given the number of brownies still on the table and the way he’s been gulping them down, I’d say seven minutes, at most. Shall I send him to the lab in ten?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, Bon.”

“Anytime.” Hisoka wasn’t paying attention to Watari anymore, grabbing a napkin from the table with one hand and Tsuzuki’s sticky fingers with the other, wiping chocolate crumbs away before Tsuzuki could start leaving fingerprints on his clothes.

Desperate times needed desperate measures – therefore Tatsumi took an extended lunch break to figure out where he’d gone wrong.

His feelings for Watari were strong and he had believed that Watari was aware of them, even before he had said the three magic words. They should have given Watari reassurance that, without any doubt, Tatsumi was solely his.

The past had been put to rest and although Tsuzuki was still a friend, a good friend, he no longer had Tatsumi’s heart. Feelings like those that had kept Tatsumi bound to Tsuzuki for so long could certainly leave a new lover insecure; Watari’s having other doubts about their relationship had never really entered Tatsumi’s mind.

He couldn’t recall an instance where Watari had been unwilling or unhappy to keep their private life private; he also couldn’t understand why it was so important that everyone knew they were together. But that was what Tatsumi thought, what he felt. It obviously wasn’t what Watari wanted and needed.

It was imperative to talk to Watari once more. A misunderstanding couldn’t cost him his lover; Tatsumi was prepared to do whatever it took to get Watari back. Most importantly, he had to be convincing: alleviate the fears and vanquish all doubts about his intentions.

Tsuzuki knocked on the door. He peeked around it into the lab and only went in when he saw Watari wave his hand. The scientist seemed glued to the lab table, staring at some weirdly sparkling, silvery substance.

“Ah, you wanted to see me?”

“Finally finished those brownies, have you? Bon was pretty accurate estimating the time it’d take you to wolf them down.”

“He’s getting used to me. Are you planning to experiment on me? With that … soup you’re cooking?

Watari turned around quickly, smiling his patented scientist grin, “No, that’s just a new varnish for the lab table – I wanted to paint it, but then I thought it’d be more fun to whip something up myself instead of buying something.”

Tsuzuki stared at him with awe, “You know you look really scary when you do that mad scientist thing and your eyes are really bizarre and huge and golden with sparkles and all …”

“I try,” a coy fluttering of long lashes and Watari laughed.

“So, what did you need me for if not an experiment?”

“I want to leave early and I need you to cover for me, just in case Tatsumi asks. It’s Friday and I doubt he’ll miss me, but … you know.”

“Is Tatsumi that mad at you that you can’t ask him?

Watari’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, “Nah, but he’s got the Accounting division breathing down his neck and you know how he gets when he’s stressed…”

Tsuzuki grinned, “Right, I’ll cover for you, then. You’ll be back on Monday, right?”

“Yeah, right on the dot.”

Loitering about in front of the laboratory was quite suspicious; not that Tsuzuki realised it, of course. Long years of practice had taught Tatsumi to read all of his co-workers well, especially Tsuzuki.

“Tsuzuki-san, I was looking for you. Kurosaki-kun wants you in the office, you’re behind on your share of paperwork,” Tsuzuki cringed visibly, “Again, I might add. Kurosaki-kun isn’t in the best of moods.”

“Yeah, I’ll … I’ll go right away.” He didn’t make a move towards the office, though.

Tatsumi raised an eyebrow, “Have you seen Watari-san? My computer crashed and I need him to take a look at it.”

Tsuzuki cast a fleeting glance at the laboratory’s closed door, a small line appearing on his forehead as he thought quickly. He smiled up at Tatsumi through his lashes, “I asked him to double-check something for me … regarding the last case. It might take a while.”

Tatsumi wouldn’t let it go, “I believe my computer is more important than double-checking information at the moment – seeing as you’re thirteen cases behind in terms of paperwork.”

A flush, mild annoyance sparkling in Tsuzuki’s eyes, “Well, he isn’t in and he’s not coming back …” He clapped a hand in front of his mouth, looking sheepish.

“I see. Then it was Watari-san whom I saw leaving from my window after all, not Wakaba-chan. Did he inform you as to why he felt the need to slip out without telling anybody?”

“Ahm … I didn’t mean to… that is,” Tsuzuki was obviously trying to find something that would alleviate his misstep, “He didn’t look well and … I guess he was afraid you’d take the day out of his salary or something.”

Tatsumi was known to be a stickler for the rules and a budgetary tyrant. Still, he felt almost guilty when Tsuzuki assumed fear of pay-cuts was the reason Watari hadn’t spoken to Tatsumi about going home early.

“Did Watari-san tell you when he’d be back?”

“Monday, bright and early, as usual; he promised.”

“I see,” an idea formed in Tatsumi’s head, which made him smile, ever so slowly. Tsuzuki stared at him, backing away one step at a time, eyes wide. He jumped when Tatsumi spoke again, “I will overlook your … involvement in this business, Tsuzuki-san – on the condition you return to your desk and finish at least two case reports without Kurosaki-kun’s help.”

“Sure, I will, I promise, I’ll go … now!” Tsuzuki turned on his heel and rushed along the corridor, out of sight in seconds. Tatsumi was still smiling that dangerously cunning grin, which slowly melted into a calculating smirk.

“Have you seen my notes on the chemical reactions of that new substance I found?”

“Hoot, hoot-hoot-hoot, hoooot.”

“Oh, right, thanks!” Watari grabbed the folder to his right, rifling through it till he found the scribbles he was searching for. 003 was amazing like that, always knowing where he put things – had to be the eagle-eye perspective. He didn’t question his understanding her hoots any longer – he’d been surprised the first time, of course, but after twenty-odd years it was very much an everyday thing.

“Hooooooot.”

“Yeah, dinner, right. Don’t worry, haven’t forgotten.”

“Hoot?”

“Oh well, I did,” Watari looked up, grinning, “What do you want?”

“Hoot. Hoot.”

“Sorry, no rice. The rice cooker broke last month, remember? I can make instant miso or instant ramen… oh, there’s got to be some cornflakes left you can nibble on if you’d like.”

“Hoot, hooot.”

“Right, off to the kitchen with you, be with you in a sec.”

The small owl zoomed out of the cluttered room and Watari put his pencil aside, haphazardly stacking the papers he’d been working on, before carefully edging towards the door between piles of books, papers, and gadgets. He almost fell onto the futon when his foot caught in the strap of a backpack, artfully concealed by a blanket.

Watari let out a small laugh – looking at this bedroom/living-room arrangement, it was clear why he preferred staying at the lab.

“HOOOOOOOOT!”

His head shot up – 003 seldom screeched in panic like that. He disentangled his foot from the backpack strap and blanket hurriedly, hopping, jumping, and skidding the three metres into the kitchen, where he ran straight into the source of 003’s fright.

“Tatsumi!”

The other man’s arms came around to catch him, preventing a head-long crash against the kitchen table. Watari caught his breath and settled his feet firmly on the ground before beginning to struggle out of Tatsumi’s hold. He’d probably teleported, scaring the hell out of 003. Tatsumi let him go without protest, although he received a firm push or two against his chest.

Watari glared at him, quick glance around the kitchen making out the cowering ball of feathers peeking out of the rice cooker, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Seeing you, Tari.”

“Don’t call me that, Tatsumi-san.”

“That’s the first time you’ve called me that in, hm, twenty-two years.”

“Twenty-three; and you should’ve expected it. We’re co-workers first, friends off-duty.”

“Friends? I thought we were lovers, Tari. I’m not going to just forget four years with you.”

“You should. I told you. It’s over.”

Tatsumi smiled, leaning against the sink, arms crossed. It was only then Watari noticed the faded jeans and washed out blue sweater – casual wear, rare to see Tatsumi like this. Suited him… bad thought.

“Which part of ‘it’s over’ didn’t you understand?”

“It’s not like you to get so riled up, Tari.”

“Watari; at least give me the common courtesy to stop using a nickname.” The shallow breaths Watari was taking would have been construed as an impending panic attack in another man.

“I thought that was what lovers do.”

His breathing was too quick, too nervous, and Watari didn’t like it. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He had broken their relationship off. He couldn’t just reach out and touch his lover – ex-lover, he reminded himself – and everything would be fine. Starting another four years of secretive glances at Tatsumi across the hall, the room; holding each other at night, but keeping a respectful, professional distance by day. They’d end up at the same point a few months down the line.

Watari’s hand connected loudly with the table-top, “We. Are. Through.”

“So you said. You may be, of course; but I’m not. You never asked my opinion – you just got up, threw me off the futon and left the lab after informing me of your decision.”

“We’ve been having sex for four years, true. And I didn’t ask you for hand-holding, public kissing, groping – I asked for nothing in fact. Perfect friendship with benefits, all in one neat package on the futon in my lab. I never asked to use your shampoo, your hair-brush, or a pyjama top of yours. It was all very easy, very manageable, very good.”

“I perfectly agree. I just wonder what changed your mind.”

“Your lying to me.” Watari had his breathing back under control, his voice smooth, betraying no emotion, gaze steady on Tatsumi.

“I never lied to you, Tari.”

“You said you loved me – you never gave any indication I was more than a friend, then you drop a bomb on me and expect me to fall into your arms or something, along with clichéd pink fluffy clouds, when I know you can’t mean it?”

Tatsumi shook his head slowly. Before he could say anything, though, Watari continued, glaring at him, “It doesn’t matter, Tatsumi. It was good, it’s over. I’m angry with myself, with you, but I’ll pull myself together and we’ll be break room buddies again. No big deal.”

“It is to me. You told me you didn’t want second-best.”

“Darn right, I don’t.”

“What makes you think I’m offering you second-best? I’m not a particularly loquacious person, Tari. I weigh my thoughts before I express them.”

Watari was still looking at Tatsumi firmly, unwaveringly, “So? You said you loved me and I know it’s not the kind of love I’m looking for. That is, if I were so inclined to look for love from you at all.”

While the last sentence had been added a little too quickly to be taken at face value, Tatsumi was still a little worried. He had misjudged his own words and actions; therefore it was also possible he had mistaken Watari’s affection to be more than it actually was.

Still, he had one chance, right here and now, and he needed to clear things up, to make his point clear at least. He smiled, “Tell me what you want from me and I’ll give it to you.”

This was obviously enough to shut Watari up. Tatsumi saw his mind working in the way he began frowning in concentration, the way he stuck his lower lip out ever so slightly, the way he shifted his weight on his left foot.

Sometimes it’s not enough to love someone, you have to show them as well. The words came back to him, unbidden, as he faced Watari.

He was just about to take a step towards his lover, reach out; he needed the reassurance of Watari’s weight against him, his warmth, his smell. Watari looked straight at him, eyes suddenly blank, face impassive. Tatsumi froze.

Watari knew it had to be now; Tatsumi had to leave while he had some control left. He had said it was over, he had given his reasons. It was done and he had to put it behind him. Tatsumi might like to keep their friendship with benefits alive, but Watari couldn’t allow himself to be lured into Tatsumi’s arms again. He loved Tatsumi, yet sometimes you had to let go of what you wanted the most, before it destroyed you.

“I like you, Tatsumi; as friends. It’s been good while it lasted; it’s over now. You have to accept it and move on. I have.”

The dismissal sounded colder than Watari had wanted it to be. He didn’t want to end their friendship, just their affair; Tatsumi wasn’t supposed to get hurt by this more than necessary. But there was an icy edge in blue eyes and Tatsumi’s mouth set into a tighter line, his posture stiffened. There was only one thing Watari could think of doing – walk away.

Watari’s curt words hurt Tatsumi; however, his lover turning his back to him – again – that was too much. He had to make Watari understand that he couldn’t let go. Watari had to see that Tatsumi loved him and needed him. He couldn’t leave – Tatsumi couldn’t allow that. He’d been incapable of stopping Watari the first time; he had to do it now.

An almost imperceptible flick of his wrist and a bit of concentration brought the shadows on the wall forward, crowding closer to Watari. 003 hooted in alarm from the sidelines, but just as Watari turned around to ask her what she meant, Tatsumi struck.

Almost too easy – slivers of darkness trailing from beneath blonde locks, wrapping around Watari’s wrists, his chest, waist, thighs. The shadows from the table legs slithered forward, around his ankles, trapped him in place quickly and effortlessly.

“What the hell … Let me go. Now.”

“Not until you’ve told me what you want from me, Tari.”

Watari didn’t reply, trying to kick, cursing under his breath when the shadows shifted around him, anchoring him. No escape from the silky soft bindings; golden eyes flashed dangerously at Tatsumi who met his eyes, unflinchingly.

“I think you’re after more than sex. That’s why my feelings got you so riled up. Tell me what you want. Should I beg? On my knees, in front of you?”

No answer, Watari just stared at him. Tatsumi swallowed his pride – he had decided he was in it for the long run, after all – he knelt down, tweaking the shadows just a bit tighter on Watari’s wrists and arms to make sure he wouldn’t be kicked.

“Do you like seeing me like this, Tari?” He looked up, hands resting on his knees; Watari swallowed.

He did like Tatsumi on his knees, pleading, begging, sucking his cock – and he wasn’t going there. His body would have been delighted to have Tatsumi back; his mind was fighting to re-establish coherent thought. Tatsumi had tied him up. He wasn’t supposed to like it. He didn’t like it. He had to focus on those simple facts, although it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Tatsumi knew Watari was thinking, considering. He wasn’t fighting the shadow bonds yet, but once he did, Tatsumi would have to let him go. It was acceptable to tie Watari up to stop him from leaving; coercing Watari to resume their relationship was out of the question.

However, as long as Watari wasn’t struggling to be freed, there was hope. And to make sure he didn’t fight, Watari had to be distracted. Tatsumi flicked his fingers; a black shadow tendril brushed along Watari’s chest, his helplessly arching neck, his cheek – flushed with anger even as he gasped.

“What’re you trying to get out of this?” Watari’s voice was clipped, angry. Tatsumi sighed.

“You, Tari. I told you I wasn’t through. I meant what I said and I’d do anything to make you believe me.”

Watari snorted, but he didn’t answer, trying to stop himself from reacting when Tatsumi’s shadows slipped across his shoulder and along his arm to brush tantalizingly against the front of his jeans. He didn’t succeed in suppressing a soft gasp that turned into a low moan.

A smile played around the corners of Tatsumi’s lips, “I know you deserve more than second-best, Tari. You’re my world. I love you; no reserve, I’m all yours. And I’ll fight to be with you.”

Watari remained quiet.

“I won’t let you push me away, Tari.”

“Not like I could. I’m trussed up in shadows.” There was a hint of something in Watari’s voice, something huskier and deeper; Tatsumi’s smile deepened. He was making progress.

“Tell me what you want from me, Tari.”

It was possible to deny his feelings. Watari had done it when he walked out after Tatsumi’s declaration of love. Yet Tatsumi was looking at him, still on his knees, waiting. It was difficult to tell himself their relationship wasn’t worth the risk of getting hurt. And just when had he started thinking of ‘their relationship’ again?

“What I want?”

“Yes.”

All or nothing; Watari licked his lips, took a deep breath, “I want … I want to stay at your place, put my toothbrush in your bathroom. I want to borrow your hair-brush, use your shampoo, and wear your pyjamas if I forget mine. I want you to wake me in the morning, cook me breakfast, and walk to the office with me.”

Tatsumi nodded, slowly, “What else?”

“I want you to mean it when you say you care for me. I want to know that you’re in this … relationship for good.”

“I could wear a ring, if you like.”

The seriousness in Tatsumi’s face surprised Watari a little. A ring wasn’t a big thing per se, but it was still something that would be noticed, a public sign of commitment.

“You would?”

“I told you, Tari. It’s up to you. I don’t want to lose you. I didn’t realise you wanted to … to let everyone know. But, if that’s what you … I can write a memo and circulate it. Post a notice, write e-mails, wear a ring; anything you want.”

Tatsumi was getting frantic. Watari didn’t react to his offer, just looked at him. His usually so expressive face was shuttered, even his eyes gave no clue about his thoughts. There had to be a way to make things right.

Watari spoke, finally, “I don’t want you to write a memo, Tatsumi. Though it’s good to know you would.”

The hint of a smile was playing around Watari’s mouth. Tatsumi took a shaky breath.

“Tell me what to do, Tari.”

Tatsumi on his knees, begging; Watari could see Tatsumi was nervous, embarrassed. He had to hate that position, had to hate giving up control like this. Watari was bound by shadows, still, but he could break the hold Tatsumi had on him with a word or a look. It was time for Watari to decide – for Tatsumi, or against him.

A slow smile crept onto Watari’s face, deepening when he noticed his lover relaxing a little, “Do I really have a say in what you do? After all, you’re the one who tied me up.”

The tone was warm and familiar, the smile almost teasing. Perhaps, Tatsumi thought, he hadn’t failed after all.

“You don’t seem overly concerned.”

“Hm. Perhaps I like it?” Challenge in Watari’s eyes and Tatsumi laughed softly, rising to his feet in one swift motion to stand in front of his lover.

“You said you’d like being tied up with shadows, back in Hokkaido. We’d both had a little too much to drink, but I still remember it.”

“You never took me up on it.”

“You never asked. Do you want me to let you go?” It wouldn’t matter if they stopped this game now; Tatsumi had said what he’d wanted to say, Watari had listened and accepted the point being made.

“No … I think,” Watari licked his lips slowly, provocatively, eyes boring into Tatsumi’s, “I think you should … convince me to give you another chance.”

“I accept your challenge.” And a challenge it was. First, how to get Watari’s clothes off without releasing the shadow bonds holding him captive. Secondly, where to take this? The little floor space in the kitchen made floor sex unappealing – especially considering that Tatsumi wanted to take it slow. Tiles were damn uncomfortable.

“Bedroom?”

Watari closed his eyes, exhaled, “I doubt you’ll find the futon – I don’t come here regularly, it’s a mess.”

A few strides and a glance into the crowded living area confirmed that statement. Tatsumi didn’t comment, simply thinking for a moment, diverting some attention from Watari’s shadow bonds to carefully move books, papers, test tubes, and writing utensils to the side. The futon emerged, sheets clean and neatly tucked in. It would do.

“Hoooooot!” It sounded like a wail, echoing from inside the broken rice cooker. Watari sighed, “Open the window a little for 003. She’ll be fine, but I doubt she’ll come out of there any time soon. You scared her to death.”

“I teleported. She smacked into my shoulder when I materialised.”

It wasn’t worth biting down on the chuckle, so Watari gave in, “She’ll give you hell once she’s convinced you’re not a ghost.”

“I’m fully aware of that. Shall we get comfortable?”

“Untie me?” Watari coyly looked at his lover from under his lashes.

“In your dreams.” Tatsumi stepped up, bending slightly to wrap his arms around Watari’s thighs, lifting his lover across his shoulder and carrying him into the next room. He carefully put him down on the futon. Watari lay on his back, giving a cursory glance around him.

“So tidy, you made a lot of effort.”

“It’ll serve,” Tatsumi smiled. The shadows adjusted with a fleeting caress and Watari moaned.

Like silk they were, holding him, restricting and yet yielding; just enough firm pressure and teasing touches to remind of lips against his skin. Watari wriggled slightly, wincing as his hands dug into his back at an awkward angle, fingers bending uncomfortably. Worth it though, for getting to see Tatsumi’s look, fiery and possessive.

“Going to undress me or would you rather stare?” The playfulness had returned and Watari’s eyes were warmer, less wary. Tatsumi considered it a definite start.

“Hm. I wouldn’t mind looking at you all night, spread out before me like this. But, I believe my clothes would be a hindrance.”

“Your clothes?”

Tatsumi allowed himself a little smirk as he reached for the hem of his sweater, teasingly lifting it inch by inch.

Watari sighed as the pale, muscular abdomen was revealed, highlighted by moonlight shadows streaking in through the window. The people across the road were probably selling tickets and drooling in their popcorn as the sweater rode up across a taut nipple and stopped its slow ascent as Tatsumi’s glasses got tangled on the edge.

Biting his lip, Watari tried to stifle his chuckles at the ensuing graceless push-and-pull fight between Tatsumi and his sweater. Finally, the fabric came loose, dropping to the floor. Tatsumi’s face was slightly flushed, hair ruffled and standing on end, glasses askew on the tip of his nose.

It was too tempting and Watari laughed softly, gasping as the shadows around him slithered across his body, stroking across his crotch deliberately, dragging along the insides of his thighs with just enough pressure to prevent Watari from squirming ticklishly.

Tatsumi’s hands fell to the waistband of his jeans, unzipping them as he turned around, giving Watari a good back view as he bent over to pull the fabric down to his ankles and step out of it. His boxers followed; he turned around again, very slowly.

Watari was smiling, the fabric of his trousers stretched tight across his crotch, hips raised and legs spread as much as the bonds would allow. Very inviting, insanely tempting; Tatsumi bit his lip to make sure he didn’t say “beautiful” or “gorgeous”. Watari didn’t like compliments like this, had once said the words sounded too girly. Pity that they were true.

Tatsumi let his eyes travel from Watari’s face down his chest, resting a little longer on the bulge in his trousers. Kneeling in front of the futon, Tatsumi placed his hands firmly to either side of Watari. He leaned down to place a kiss on the tip of his lover’s nose. He reached for the red tie that held the remnants of Watari’s ponytail together and tugged it free, hand diving into the long curls and spreading them out on the bed.

A little more squirming showed Watari wasn’t comfortable on his back and Tatsumi released the shadow binds momentarily, both of his hands slipping beneath Watari, grasping his wrists and pulling them out from below him. Tatsumi brought them to his lips, kissing the pulse points, then firmly placed Watari’s hands above his head, shadows slithering in place to hold them together.

A few tendrils wound in a snake-like caress down Watari’s arms, making him sigh and arch up slightly, towards the warmth of Tatsumi’s body.

Watari wore a washed-out red cotton shirt, well-worn and comfortable. Tatsumi crawled onto the futon, straddling his lover’s hips with a low moan, one hand coming to rest against Watari’s chest, right above his heart. The other undid the small buttons of Watari's shirt methodically, carefully pulling the fabric apart.

Tatsumi gently traced the line of Watari’s collarbone, the contours of his chest, thumbs rubbing against hardening nipples. Shadows followed Tatsumi’s fingers, brushing feather light against Watari’s sensitised skin, making him shiver. Watari's cock hardened further and he gasped, stretching and pressing his hips upwards.

The shadows twitched, rushing down Watari’s torso, tickling; he writhed and laughed, breathless. Tatsumi’s hands settled on his lover’s hips as he pulled back, settling between Watari’s spread legs. Tatsumi then moved swiftly onward to the zip of Watari’s jeans, pulling it down carefully. Some wriggling, moaning, and not-so-innocent caresses later, Tatsumi had navigated the jeans down Watari’s legs, letting it bunch at his ankles for Watari to kick off.

“Not removing our glasses?” Tatsumi loved the way Watari was gasping as he spoke, pale skin flushed from cheeks to chest and further; Watari’s cock lying hard and heavy against his stomach.

“I want both of us to see clear tonight.”

Watari blinked, giving Tatsumi a long, measured look. Finally, he nodded, “Let’s do that. Kiss me?”

“With pleasure.” Just as Watari was about to ask whether it would be Tatsumi’s pleasure or his, Tatsumi’s lips met his. Their glasses clinked as they came together and they both chuckled, tilting their heads a little in opposite directions to minimise glasses-rubbing.

Tatsumi took his time with the kiss, letting his hands roam Watari’s exposed chest, while his shadows slithered, with a pressure just shy of tickling, up and down the inside of Watari’s forearms.

The slow caresses drove Watari mad with need, his cock and balls ached for release, each light brush against his wrists a remembrance of the shadows that had bound him; teasing and silky – his hips arched off the futon, desperate for contact. He tried to roll to his side, to rub against Tatsumi, but his lover wouldn’t let him complete the motion, one hand firmly gripping his waist, the other tracing the planes and hollows of his chest muscles and his abs.

Tatsumi’s movements stilled, “I’d like to watch you when you swim, once.”

Watari’s eyes snapped open, “Why?”

“I’d like to see you move, slice the water apart, push through it. I like you wet.”

“You’ve got a dirty mind, Seii.”

The use of his nickname made Tatsumi smile, “You bring out the worst in me. And the best; only you, Tari.”

Watari watched his lover’s eyes carefully, the expression on his face; there was no hint of hesitation or uncertainty, only utter conviction.

“Sex?”

Tatsumi chuckled, “If you’re this impatient…”

“Tease,” Watari finally managed to break Tatsumi’s grip on his waist and rolled onto his back again, arms still stretched above his head, wrapped in shadows, “You want it as much as me.”

Certainly not something Tatsumi could deny. He wrapped one hand around Watari’s wrists, rolling against his lover and pinning him to the bed with his weight. The touch of their naked chests was glorious, even better was the heavy heat of their cocks pressing together, slick with pre-come.

Watari’s hips pushed up, Tatsumi pressed down, pulled back, brushed their bodies against each other. Watari groaned as they rocked together again, straining flesh meeting. He flung his head back, exposed his throat, and moaned when Tatsumi bent forward to lick up his neck, taking hold of his earlobe, pulling gently.

Their bodies were attuned to each other, sliding easily into a smooth rocking motion, cocks touching, rubbing as their hips ground together with each thrust; Watari’s legs wrapped around Tatsumi’s waist, keeping him in place, bringing him closer as their lips came together softly, briefly, again and again.

They didn’t want to hurry, but their pace quickened, their movements growing harsher, briefer, their cocks straining against each other, slippery and hard; hot, their moaning loud, uneven sounds, broken by gasps, whispered nicknames.

One more thrust and Watari’s body arched up, hips tight against Tatsumi’s, the pressure all at once too much.

Strips of hot white painted their chests as they moaned, together, trembling in release. They sank back onto the futon, hips still grinding, lazily, deliciously. Tatsumi’s head fell heavily onto Watari’s shoulder, the shadow bonds dissolving as his concentration faltered, and ebbed away.

“Tissue?”

“Use my boxers.”

“Where are they?”

“You took them off, Seii.”

“Hm. Blanket?”

“Only if you wash it.”

“Promise.”

Watari wriggled a little, catching hold of the blanket, dragging it towards their chests, rubbing away their release.

“You staying?”

“If you let me,” Tatsumi pushed himself up on one elbow, looking down at Watari, “Did I pass your test, Tari?”

Watari nodded, opening his arms; Tatsumi smiled, settling down against Watari’s side and wrapping his arms around his lover’s waist. Watari managed to get a part of the blanket on top of them, embracing Tatsumi to pull him close.

A weekend with Tatsumi: sex, excellent food cooked just for Watari and 003 – fried rice, tempura, miso soup, maki, and sushi – a long talk, sex, a few games of chess. More food, the discovery that Tatsumi was incredibly talented at origami, an impromptu wrestling match which Watari won, and sex again. Sleep was overrated, discovering more of each other, finding things other than sex that could bind them, bring them closer was more important.

In the end, Watari dragged himself to the office at quarter past ten on Monday morning. His hair was still a little dishevelled and the huge yawn with which he greeted the coffee maker spoke volumes about his lack of sleep over the weekend. Still, he was smiling widely to himself as he nursed his steaming mug.

“Ah, there you are! You look kinda…” Debauched, well-fucked, happy. “… tired. You’re in late, too. Are you ill?”

Tsuzuki radiated concern and Watari grinned sunnily at him, “Late and proud of it – first time in nineteen years.”

“Shields, Watari-san,” Hisoka appeared at the door, sounded quite put-out, cheeks reddening rapidly as he entered the room, “You’re broadcasting and that’s too much information.”

“What’s he thinking?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know, Tsuzuki.”

“You like me!” Hisoka jumped in shock as Tsuzuki hugged him enthusiastically, “You didn’t call me idiot!”

Watari blew on his coffee, chuckling to himself. Hisoka’s indignation was really adorable, especially given the obvious way he leaned into Tsuzuki’s embrace.

“Tsuzuki-san, Kurosaki-kun, this is hardly an acceptable manner for office interaction.”

Stern voice, slight frown and mussed hair, rumpled clothes; Watari grinned: all his, for real, proven a number of times over the weekend.

Tatsumi’s eyes met Watari’s across the room. He walked over to his lover at the coffee maker, grabbing a mug from the shelf beside the table. “Good morning, Watari-san.” Neither his voice nor his manner showed any sign of what was between them, of the weekend before.

Watari had expected it, of course, but he wasn’t sure if it aggravated or disappointed him. He just nodded, flashed a brief smile, let it rest. He was a jovial, tactile person, and he didn’t like not being able to reach over and steal a good morning kiss.

“You look tired, Watari-san. You’re exhausting yourself too much.” Watari looked up, straight into Tatsumi’s sparkling eyes. His lover was smiling as he reached out slowly, brushing his knuckles lightly across Watari’s cheek.

“I could say the same for you,” a challenge and Tatsumi’s smile deepened, a hint of red dusting his ears.

“Touché,” Tatsumi cleared his throat and drew back, “I’ll be in my office.”

Watari grinned, catching sight of Tsuzuki’s slack jaw and Hisoka’s calculating smile, Tsuzuki’s arms still encircling the boy.

Tatsumi had just started the rumour mill, fully conscious he was doing so. It was a definite start.

End.

Additional Notes:

Don’t forget to protect yourself and your partner during sex. Condoms are your friends: better be safe than sorry.

Word count: ca. 5900 (excluding notes and header). I’m excessively proud of myself ;D.

I’ve decided to use nicknames in this story. I’ve heard that the use of first names is less common in Japan, even among couples, and a Japanese friend of mine also uses an abbreviated version of her family name as her nickname.

However, Lynn and MC pointed out that “Tats” a) doesn’t sound right, and b) the syllable breakdown in Japanese would be “Ta-tsu-mi”, so “Tatsu” would be a more logical choice of nickname. Since I don’t like “Tatsu”, I decided to go with “Seii” instead.

I kept “Tari” as Watari’s nickname, because a) I like it and b) Tatsumi is generally quite formal, so a nickname based on his lover’s last name might be more his style.

Lynn and MC helped me refocus the story and tighten the arguments. I hadn’t planned on adding two more pages on the re-write (mostly dialogue). I hope it’s enough to smoothen any bumps in the story ;D. The basis for Tatsumi’s and Watari’s argument was suggested by MC.