Summary: Tatsumi and Watari establish a relationship and Tatsumi learns that not being in control is not equal to being powerless. 003 appears now and then for kawaii owl moments.

Warnings: Graphic sex, very slight (consensual) bondage/submission, adult language. If this is not your cup of tea, don't read. You have been warned.

Authors' Notes:
Might contain slight spoilers for manga up to Vol. 9 and the anime. My knowledge of Japanese customs is scant, but I hope I won't mess up too badly ;D. This is the smuttiest fic I've ever written and I hope it's good enough to keep you entertained; feel free to let me know how depraved and perverted I am ;D (e-mail addy can be found above).

"Call me Yutaka and I'll stop."

He sighed, hands pinned above his head, mind swimming, focus centred on the warmth coursing along his veins, the heated body pressed against his, and the soft lips leaving a moist trail along his arched neck. It was not a good idea, but he nodded, sagging against the wall and closing his eyes.

~ * ~

It was all the fault of the Kyoto case; or, more precisely, the case that almost cost Tsuzuki and Kurosaki their lives. Tatsumi was certain Touda's fire would feature in nightmares to come – prominently. He sighed; he would have to go and talk to Tsuzuki and apologize – for not letting him die or perhaps rather for not … jumping into the fray at once, he supposed. Watari had admonished him for it – dressed down would probably be a more accurate description – and in front of the boy too. He should be angry, but then again it had cleared his head and made him reach for Tsuzuki and Kurosaki in the flames, bearing them to safety in the embrace of his shadows.

Tatsumi looked down at himself and frowned. He had let himself be manhandled in more ways than one last night and though he cringed at the memory it was not entirely unpleasant. He was not a man without urges and had most certainly not been a virgin to women when he died. Men were another matter entirely, of course.

Watari was still sleeping, half-naked like himself, clothes rumpled, haphazardly pushed out of the way. They had not really bothered to complete undressing, after all. Not that it had been worth it – their encounter had been brief, but the passion had surprised him. Being usually very reserved and keeping his emotions in check very carefully, it was rare for him to engage in any unguarded displays of feeling. Like the moans, groans, and pleas he had indulged in.

His ass hurt. Well, perhaps it was not pain so much as … throbbing; like the hard shaft inside him last night. His stomach was sticky, his wrists sore, and his tie ruined. Silk should have been stronger than that, but he supposed with the way he had thrashed, fought his hands being bound and tied to … he briefly looked up … a brass railing, he should not be surprised.

And the instigator, rash, fierce, and quite literally stunning, was not stirring in his sleep. Angel face, haloed by blonde locks, the very picture of guileless, innocent sweetness – not that he would ever dare to underestimate Watari again; or look at hand lotion with the same eyes.

He looked around quickly for a cloth or towel, spotted one near a sink in the lab and got up, wincing as his muscles protested. While the other man slept on, he cleaned himself as best as he could, deciding to teleport to his apartment as he was in no fit state to be seen, no matter how early it was. While not likely that any of his co-workers would be about, it was (in his hopeful imagination) not entirely impossible one of them would be in for work at – he squinted at his watch – 6:23 in the morning.

He would have to request Watari's silence on what had passed between them, of course, and the thought of what would be demanded of him in return made his frown darken. He would not put it above the scientist to publicly humiliate him, or to blackmail him with the threat of spreading juicy gossip about his lack of control in bed; or of submitting to Watari, letting himself be tied up and fucked on an old futon at the back of the lab; and he really did not want to know what the purpose of that brass railing usually was. Grabbing his torn tie and his shoes, Tatsumi concentrated on his apartment, disappearing from the lab shortly before the scientist awoke.

~ *** ~

Tatsumi had asked Wakaba to deliver a message to Watari when she went to visit Kurosaki in the infirmary and, at 12:30 sharp, there was a knock on the door to his office. Mentally, he steeled himself for a fight, for trouble, for having to re-assert his position of superiority. He could not let his own weakness influence the position he had in the Shokan division. He was in charge and that was how it should be. Any other notion would quickly have to be set to rights.

"Come in."

A blond whirlwind rushed into the office, brandishing a cup of coffee at him. Watari as he had known him for many years – cheerful, open, uncomplicated, sweet even. Not that he had been blinded to darker parts of the scientist's personality, but he had never thought about it too much as he himself had not been called upon to act, because he had not been affected by the man's anger, possessiveness, or rage so … personally before.

"The office's talking about nothing but Tsuzuki and Bon! Bon's really annoyed already, especially since Wakaba-chan brought him some sweets to 'get his strength back up' – he sure hasn't lost the ability to glower and…"

"There is something we need to discuss, Watari-san." Tatsumi's voice was neutral and perfectly controlled. The scientist frowned, brushing a strand of blond hair out of his eyes.

"Fire away." It was hard to reconcile the person now sprawled into a chair across from him to the man who had, after Tsuzuki and Kurosaki had been seen to, dragged him into the lab, closed the door, and slammed him up against it, cursing him in a colourful variety of languages f or his stupidity. It had all still been about his reaction to Tsuzuki's death wish, or so he thought. Well, until he was being brutally kissed, with Watari's hands wandering across his torso and under his shirt. Until the request for permission (which he had given, not all unwillingly, he reminded himself) to let himself be thoroughly ravished. His ass was still slightly sore.

"You crossed a line last night, Watari-san," he said, voice as calm and impersonal as he could make it. The jovial face darkened and the scientist crossed his arms. There was no hint of fear or shame in his eyes though, which flashed with something dangerously wicked as he answered.

"I didn't hear you complaining. We were both wired and you were sick of trying to keep it all in. You needed release, I took control, and I'll be damned if you didn't enjoy it."

"That is not the point, Watari-san," he aimed at keeping his voice level, though this outright defiance was not what he had expected and he was not entirely sure how to deal with it. Tatsumi stood up, moving towards the window, glancing at the door to check it was still closed. He turned towards the other man again, bracing himself, "I don't give over control, to no one."

"You did last night." It was not exactly what he had wanted to hear, blunt and true as it was. He tried again, his eyes narrowing when the scientist got up swiftly, moving towards him, "I am your superior, Watari-san, and I…"

Tatsumi jumped when Watari firmly covered his mouth with one hand, grabbing his wrist and pinning it behind his back with the over, the lithe body pressing him hard against the windowsill.

"Let me get this straight for you, Tatsumi-san. I'm not after your post here. You can be in charge all you like in the office and I assure you I haven't got the faintest intention of telling anyone about us having sex. Neither will I use it against you in any way. I'll needle you for funding – which you won't give me – and bring you coffee every afternoon as I've done for the past thirty-odd years. However," the hand dropped from Tatsumi's mouth and his wrist was released, even though Watari did not step back, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Tatsumi's.

"However, the next time you come over to my place, you won't try to choke my chess pieces with shadows when I'm not looking, but instead use that pent-up energy and aggression of yours to struggle when I tie you up. Then you'll let me win as you did last night and I'll tease you, and fuck you, and make you feel good. Because you want me to."

Watari stepped back and Tatsumi was annoyed that his eyes had widened and he was gaping without him having given his face permission to adopt such a thoroughly stupid look.

"You assume too much." It did not come out as steadily and reassured as he had hoped. The scientist raised one eyebrow, tilted his head, and smiled, looking for the entire world like a sweet, mischievous boy.

"I don't assume, I offer. You don't have to deny yourself, Tatsumi. I respect you, and I expect the same of you, whether we are at work, or in bed. Because there's nothing as delicious as a secret affair and I relish being allowed to bury myself inside you. I like being in charge, Tatsumi, just as much as you do; although not in the same situations." Blinking, as Watari suddenly turned around and breezed towards the door, hair and lab-coat flapping behind him, Tatsumi cleared his throat.

The scientist faced him once more, hand on the doorknob, winked, and blew him a kiss, "I do many things, Seiichiro, but I'm not dangerous and I seldom bite." 003 seemed to agree, as she flapped her tiny wings a few times against Tatsumi's cheek, startling him with her proximity. Her presence too, actually, since he had not noticed her at all before. Then she followed her retreating owner, who closed the door behind them both. Leaning heavily against the windowsill, Tatsumi contemplated the past few minutes, uncomfortably aware that not only had the whole discussion been taken out of his hands, but Watari's frank suggestions had aroused him as well. And neither boded well for him.

~ *** ~

Perhaps he had wanted order to be re-established in his own private little world. Or perhaps he had found Watari's offer far more enticing than he wanted to admit. At any rate, by the end of the week, he was confused and skittish. He had spoken to Tsuzuki, but even though his friend was on the mend and had forgiven him, he still felt guilty. For a lot of things, including but not limited to, still being attracted to the man after all this time and still feeling a vague bond to him that was a little too bittersweet to merely be friendship. And this was scary, as far as Tatsumi was concerned.

When he closed his office late on Friday night, he fully planned to come back on Saturday morning, as always. While Enma-cho's other employees took the weekend off (unless they were on a case, of course) Tatsumi never allowed himself to be slack in his pursuit of the ultimate goal – a balanced budget – which he was by no means certain he would ever attain. However, this Friday was different, because he kept remembering Watari and their conversation. The scientist had been true to his word – he had not spoken to anyone about their tryst, he had not made lewd comments or suggestive remarks, and he had brought a cup of coffee into Tatsumi's office every afternoon just as the clock struck five. He had been as reliable in his little friendly attentions as ever and there had not been a hint of anything even remotely different between them. And this alone was horribly confusing.

Tatsumi was aware that when it came to relationships, his track record was exquisitely bad. He had been with a number of women, in fact, he had indulged himself excessively just after his mother's death, in a very disreputable part of town, and the occasions were certainly not something he liked to remember – yet he had not had a lover for an extended period of time. Probably due to his preferring the ladies of the night to "respectable" women. He had always considered it from the viewpoint that 'beggars can't be choosers' and the less complicated his life was, the better for him.

He still knew that it was his feelings for Tsuzuki that had been so hard to deal with, not the almost instant physical attraction. Lust was a familiar concept; affection and love were not. And even now, after so many years at Enma-cho, friendship and camaraderie remained more or less unfamiliar expressions of closeness that he was a bit uncomfortable with, although he cherished them. Still, there were emotions he was very familiar with and had been for most of his life – loneliness and longing.

And on that particular Friday evening Tatsumi felt lonelier than he had for a long time and he wished there was someplace to go besides home. So he found himself, at precisely 11:03pm, on Watari's doorstep; knocking, holding his breath, and tightening his hands into fists. He was on the verge of turning around and returning to his own apartment, glad and disappointed at the same time, when he heard shuffling on the other side of the door. The knob turned and Watari stood in front of him, regarding him, head cocked to the side, a smile on his lips.

"Tatsumi! Do come in, do you want anything? Tea?"

He shook his head, took off his shoes, and followed the other man into the small living area. The apartment was not very big, but it was tidy and looked fresh and inviting. Honey-coloured wooden furniture, white paper walls that were almost completely covered by bookshelves, filled to the brim, and bright cushions framing a picture window with cream curtains; the appearance was of a comfortable, practical, and lived-in space. Tatsumi liked it immediately. The place carried the personality of the Watari he had known for so many years, after all.

He took the seat offered to him, declining the offer of refreshments. His hands were still in the pockets of his jacket and he withdrew them, laying a coil of thin yarn rope onto the table between him and Watari. It was something he usually used for tying parcels together, but he was hoping it would be put to another use as he crossed his hands and held them out towards the other man. To his credit, the scientist neither flinched, nor did he pretend not to understand the implicit question; not that Tatsumi would have noticed, as his eyes were downcast.

"Not here. Bedroom's the first door to the right. You can strip and lie down, I'll be with you in a moment."

It somehow sounded very clinical, but it was not a tone to argue with. Tatsumi had used it himself, on a number of occasions, though it sent a thrill of fear and guilty anticipation through him to hear it from the other man. He stood a little shakily and walked to the bedroom. There was a moon out, so he did not bother turning on the light, disrobing as quickly and efficiently as he usually did. When Watari stepped into the room a few minutes later, Tatsumi had laid down on the bed, naked and uncovered, despite the slightly cool breeze that came in through the small window, stirring the cream-coloured curtains.

"Close your eyes." Tatsumi felt the other man's presence, the warmth of his body as he leaned across the prone form, looping something around first one wrist, then the other, tying them together. Unlike the expected chafing of the thin rope, the scientist used something soft, warm, and thick. "Call me Yutaka and I'll stop," Watari's hair trailed against Tatsumi's chest as he whispered in his ear, "you do understand that, don't you … pet?" Tatsumi relaxed unconsciously at first, even though his eyes snapped open at the new nickname. Watari growled low in his throat, one hand twisting warningly into his partner's short hair.

"Close your eyes, pet!" It was with an effort that Tatsumi did not to speak or fight, even though he hated the mere thought of being called "pet" by anyone. Still, he relaxed, gave in. He was rewarded with a few painful bites along his neck and bit his lip to ensure his silence. Watari pulled back, slipping out of his clothes, turning his partner's face towards him, making him watch, "Do you like watching me, pet?"

Tatsumi nodded, only distantly aware of just how exposed he was in this position. He could have tried to roll over, his legs were free and he was still a Kagetsukai with the shadows in the room rippling around him, obeying his command. But he had not come to be comfortable and secure in the knowledge that he was in control; in fact, he needed to feel the exact opposite and it took less courage to trust his partner than he might have thought. Or perhaps he was simply too tired to resist.

Watari's hand landed on his hip, slid along his thigh and pushed his knee up. His eyes had adjusted somewhat to the darkness and the shapes were clear, as he had opted to keep his glasses on. He saw glints of moonlight shine in the other man's hair as he uncorked a bottle, filling the room with a sweet scent he remembered from his mother. "Lavender," he whispered. His partner nodded, settling between his legs. Tatsumi tensed slightly at the thought of feeling Watari's finger inside him; it did hurt at first, after all. Still, he pulled his knees up, keeping his eyes focused on the slivers of moonlight in the room and his mind carefully blank. He did not want to think too much about how he looked, spread out and wanton.

"Ready to go on, pet?" He nodded, just a little.

"Hmm, let's see," Watari's oiled fingers closed around his half-hard cock, rubbing and caressing. Tatsumi felt warm breath on his neck as the other man's chest pressed against his, their nipples brushing against each other lightly. A hand carded through his hair, massaging his scalp, while the other continued stroking his length. The scientist's tongue pressed against his lips and he opened them, moaning softly as his mouth was plundered.

Pulling back, Watari kissed the side of his mouth, murmuring, "Much better," slickly caressing Tatsumi's cock once more, before pressing an oiled finger against his opening. It seemed far less painful now he was fully aroused and he pushed back slightly, rocking his hips, trying to rub his hardness against the other man's hip. Slick heat met him as his mouth was captured again, the kiss demanding, harsh, and deep. He was being stretched still, but Watari was making small, needy noises at the back of his throat and he withdrew his fingers quickly, moaning when his trembling hand slicked his own cock.

Tatsumi pulled his knees up further, let the other man settle against him even as pushed inside steadily, firm and hot and big, pulsing and burning. His own cock twitched in response to the feeling, he gasped when Watari was all the way in, flexing his hips, driving himself deeper still. Pulling back, sliding in, building a rhythm and Tatsumi groaned at the pressure inside him, the glorious pleasure as the hard shaft rubbed against his prostrate briefly once, twice, steadily faster as Watari picked up the tempo, moaning as he drove into his partner deep and hard.

"Mine," Watari gasped against his neck, followed by a bruising bite to his collarbone and he shuddered, acutely aware of every prick of light behind his eyelids as his muscles clenched and he came, his release sticky and hot on his stomach. Watari followed moments later, with one more hard thrust that struck his partner's prostrate head-on and made him curse harshly as he spasmed once more, almost drowned by the feeling.

Watari lay on top of him, rapid heart beat drumming against his chest, as both of them tried to catch their breath. Tatsumi felt blissfully hot and sated, boneless and sleepy. It was a heady mixture and he would have succumbed, forgetting where he was, if the scientist's voice had not pulled him back.

"You ok?" Watari's hands ran up along his sides and shoulders, as he reached for his wrists to untie him, his body still pinning Tatsumi to the bed.

"Fine." His voice was raspy and he opened his eyes slowly, adjusting once again to the darkness in the room, even as his glasses were carefully adjusted on his nose to bring the world into clearer focus. He shivered when a strand of hair brushed across his chest, tickling his nipple. Watari chuckled softly, pushing himself up and flopping down against Tatsumi's side with a contented sigh. The scientist half-heartedly rubbed his stomach with something soft and fluffy, probably the same thing used to tie him up earlier, remaining on his back, long hair falling every which way, trailing across Tatsumi's arm and chest. They did not speak again and Watari fell asleep soon after.

Tatsumi remained on the bed for a few more minutes, then forced himself to get up, cover the other man with a blanket – all the while not looking at the sprawled figure – and finally grabbed his clothes, dressing as quietly as he could in the tiny hallway. A soft hoot, almost chiding in tone, made him start and he turned around quickly, expecting Watari to stand in the doorway. But it seemed that he was only being chastised by the scientist's diminutive owl at the moment, her feathers ruffled, making her seem like a very fluffy and cute toy. Tatsumi barely managed to conceal his smile, "I have to leave, 003. Watari-san will understand."

The owl obviously did not share his opinion, but she did fly out of his way, hovering above his head instead, flapping her wings so hard she messed up his hair even further. He knew it was not the best way to react, sneaking out of the Watari's apartment after he had let himself be taken like this. Still, it was the only way to distance himself, to separate sex and emotions. Theirs was a strictly sexual relationship, in which the scientist had the upper hand. And it certainly would not do to confuse everything even more by staying the night and waking up to look into Watari's amber eyes and see pity for the sad state he was in. After all, he had precious little pride left now that he had become the other man's "pet", and willingly at that.

003 hooted once more, close enough to make him jump, just before nipping at his ear sharply. He cursed under his breath and waved his hand in the vague direction of his head, hoping she would take the hint. Being the clever little thing she was, she did back off completely, fluffing her feathers noisily (or as noisily as a small owl could) as she soared towards the kitchen, leaving Tatsumi alone to open the door silently and slip out into the night.

~ *** ~

Tatsumi shook his head as he undressed quietly, 003 flapping her wings against his left ear before settling onto his head, unperturbed by his movements. She seemed to have gotten used to his presence, he stayed at Watari's place most nights after all. It was only sensible, or so he kept telling himself, since the apartment was closer to the office and when he stayed late, he did not have as far to go. Tatsumi always conveniently forgot about the possibility of teleporting – sleeping in an already warm bed with an even warmer body for company was quite enticing after a twelve (or more) hour day.

And then, Watari had given him the spare keys himself one afternoon as he dropped in with Tatsumi's coffee. There had not been any huge declarations, the scientist had simply put down the cup, placed the keys beside it and said, "Thought you could use them – just in case you want to drop by after doing overtime – my place is closer than yours." Tatsumi was still not entirely sure when he had started to stay over every night; he was not even sure it was a good idea, given all possible implications this could have and, of course, the fact that Watari snored.

It was not quite annoying, or unpleasant, but mostly it irritated Tatsumi a little bit. Although it was welcoming in its own way when he came home in the middle of the night. Walking out of the office there was always the sound of the wind in the cherry trees, or the gentle drumming of rain; then the key grated slightly in the lock and the door swung open with the hint of a creak.

His own place was always quiet after that, too quiet, but when he stepped into Watari's domain there were those soft snores, almost a background melody. It comforted Tatsumi in a way he could not explain and yet it was irritating him when he had crawled into bed and was trying to go to sleep. Still, it was not so bad after he had draped his arm across the other man's body and pulled him over; Watari usually snuggled closer and buried his face against Tatsumi's neck and the snores were not so loud then, they just reverberated against his skin, tickling almost, with every exhalation.

~ *** ~

Even though he slept with Watari regularly now, Tatsumi always rose first. He had a knack of waking up precisely five minutes before the alarm was set. He blinked twice, his eyes adjusting to the bleary light and his ears taking in the light tapping on the windowpanes. It was raining; again. Not that it mattered much, as he was not required to go to work that day, even though he would any way. He was not going to break a tradition of almost fifty years, after all. He refrained from looking to his right, ignoring the light snores with practiced ease, reaching instead for the table at his side of the bed, turning off the alarm clock, taking his glasses, putting them on.

Methodically, as always, he pushed the blankets off his legs, did not think about his nude state or the, by now familiar, tingling in his ass as he sat up, moved noiselessly and gracefully out of bed; but he did do something he had not allowed himself more than twice since he had begun his intimate relationship with Watari – he turned back to look at the other man's sleeping form.

With the blankets pushed further down than usually, he could see the firm curve of the scientist’s ass as he lay on his side, his hair fanning across the long line of his back, a few stray locks tumbling across his shoulder. He looked enticing like this and that was something Tatsumi could not allow himself to notice. He averted his eyes, bent – with a slight frown as his flesh protested the downward movement – and scooped up his underwear and shirt. His trousers were probably in the other room, along with his socks and tie. He almost made it out the door, on tiptoe, as always.

"You come over every night, but you never stay for breakfast, Tatsumi. Should I be offended?" there was a sleepy drawl to the smooth voice and the bedclothes rustled as the speaker turned.

He kept very still, not looking back, "It simply isn't part of our deal, Watari-san. We … fuck," the word was cold and alien on his tongue, but he needed to distance himself, "there is no need for formalities like breakfast."

"Damn you," the scientist's tone was low now and threatening, "turn 'round, look at me! At least look me in the eye if you plan to say crap like that!"

"We played a game last night; you, tying me up; me, not protesting; and I would say we both enjoyed it; it was fun, it's over, now I'm going home."

Watari snorted, "Home? As if – you're going to the office to drown yourself in paperwork and feel morose and lonely. You always do, the whole department knows that, don't even bother denying it. The office won't fall apart if you take a day off, you might as well stay."

"My work is none of your business, Watari-san." The threat was imminent in the sudden calm detachment and cold tone in Tatsumi's cultured voice. He did not wish to discuss the matter further. That was one of the reasons he usually left before the other man awoke – it would not do to complicate this strange relationship any further.

A long-suffering sigh, "Come to bed, Tatsumi. Stay a few more hours, let me make you breakfast and then decide if you really hate the thought as much as you think you do. Or are you afraid of me?"

The scientist's voice was firm, but soft, with a lightly teasing undertone. Damn, but Watari knew how to pull his strings. Taunts like this were hard to ignore, especially for a man like him, who had been raised on notions of pride and honour. He squared his shoulders, schooled his features into an impassive scowl and turned around.

Watari did at least have the courtesy not to smile or otherwise show his triumph; instead he shifted, turning to present his ass to Tatsumi's gaze again, looking briefly back over his shoulder and patting the space behind him lightly with his hand. The implied arrangement seemed strange to Tatsumi, but what Watari wanted he got, at least when it came to this side of their relationship.

He dropped his clothes, briefly closed his eyes to regain his courage and went to the bed, crawling up to his partner, lying close but still leaving some space between them. The scientist's lips curved upwards ever so slightly as he shuffled back until his ass was pressed firmly against his partner's crotch. He wriggled a little, earning a startled gasp, and let his hand fall lightly on Tatsumi's flank, keeping him in place.

Watari looked at him over his shoulder again as he began to speak, amber eyes a bit unfocused due to the fact he was not wearing glasses, "I like it that way too, you know, pet. Sometimes; today, perhaps, hm?"

Tatsumi nodded, mouth suddenly dry. He could not say he had never thought of trying other positions, but it had not crossed his mind they would ever try any. He believed all that was required of him was to submit to Watari's every whim in bed, whether he was being tied up or not. Which was certainly something that was not as strange or unpleasant as he might have supposed it to be. He liked it, in fact, it was their game; he did not need to think, just feel, and relinquish all control.

But perhaps that was a bit boring for Watari, at times; so, if he wanted to turn the tables, that was alright too – Tatsumi consciously forced himself to relax into the sheets – he would do whatever it took to keep this relationship, strange as it was, in working order. He was fond of the sex in a way, and, well, kind of fond of his partner too.

"You could touch me, pet, to start with. Anywhere you want, in fact, I'm not picky. And I'll let you know if I like it. In fact, I promise to be *very* vocal in my encouragement." There was a smile in the scientist's voice and Tatsumi's answer was quiet, if firm, "As you wish, Watari-san."

He accompanied the words by a swift brush across the other man's flank, even as his other hand wriggled beneath the prone body to splay on his partner's stomach, pulling him closer. Watari sighed and relaxed, a boneless, heavy weight against him, humming with pleasure when a hand fell to his ass, kneading the flesh even as Tatsumi's cock twitched against it.

It was nice, Tatsumi had to admit, being able to touch Watari like this. And it seemed they were in no hurry either, he was not even being told to do anything specific, so he simply modified the pressure of his fingers and the movement of his hands according to the responses he received from the other man. A groan and an impatient push against his hand let him know that it was alright to tease Watari's entrance with his thumb, even as his fingers trailed feathery light across the man's hardening cock, rubbing the tip a little more firmly and spreading the moisture on a slow downwards track.

"I like it when you touch me there, hm, put a finger in, here's … mmmm, yes, like that," Watari's voice was breathless as he pushed his ass back onto Tatsumi's finger, stretching his upper body forward, slumping back moments later and dropping the lubricant behind him, hitting his partner's wrist, "Nice, pet, very nice. I can't wait to feel you!"

That particularly caught Tatsumi's attention; he moaned, pushing his finger deeper, then adding another, stretching and coating his partner's passage with lube. His cock twitched against the back of Watari's thigh, hard and leaking. His balls felt heavy and he leaned forward slightly, brushing his lips against the scientist's throat, licking the spot just behind his ear. He was pleased to hear a throaty moan that sounded suspiciously like his name, feel the shiver that ran through the lean frame, and the subtle hardening of the shaft in his hand. "Like that?" he whispered, licking the same spot again. And a third time for good measure.

Watari's hand slapped against his flank, not hard enough to really hurt, just sting pleasantly, heightening his awareness of the heat between them, the way the air was thick with their ragged moans and condensed, as if in a jungle, their passion the musky perfume on the warm wind. "Stop teasing! Do it – now!" The scientist was more controlled than most people gave him credit for, being able to still string coherent sentences together. No matter how short they were. Tatsumi almost smiled, withdrawing his fingers, pushing his knee against the back of Watari's upper thigh, making him open up further, even as he slicked his cock quickly, guiding the tip to the other man's entrance.

He paused briefly, hoarsely whispering into the other man's ear, "Tell me." Tell me it's fine, tell me to take you like this, tell me I may, tell me I'm not overstepping my line in this, with this. Watari gasped, pushing his ass back, turning his head around only enough to glare at Tatsumi, "Now!"

It was enough permission, he pressed his hips forward, the head of his cock popping into the tight ring of muscle, and he kept going, sliding deeper, hand now on the other man's hip, holding him tightly as he sheathed himself in his body. "Hmmmm, Tatsumi…" That sort of voice should have been forbidden. It made his cock throb harder and his balls tighten almost painfully. Watari had no call to be that breathless, nor was he supposed to sound so needy and so damn smug at the same time. A hand came to rest over the one still clutched hard on the scientist's hip. "Move, pet. Just take it slow, let me feel you."

Tatsumi sighed then, nestling closer, suddenly reassured. Watari was calm and firm, no matter how ragged his breathing, and though he was the one being taken this time round, he was still firmly in control, still giving orders. So Tatsumi did not have to worry about anything after all, he could let go, just reacting while his partner tightly held the ropes. He smiled, pressing a kiss to the shoulder in front of him, twisting his arm to get a better grip on the other man's hardness.

Watari moaned softly as Tatsumi pulled out slightly, then pushed back in. He kept it slow and as steady as he could given how dizzy the clench of caressing muscles, the sweaty heat around him were making him; he remembered little of the women he had been with when alive, too many years had passed, after all, but he was sure none of them had been this addictively tight and hot and eager. His cock throbbed and he thrust harder, trying to bury himself deeper in Watari's body, squeezing the other man's shaft and his ass, spreading the warm cheeks a little with his hand to give him room to move closer, just a little bit closer, and closer and… His balls drew up tight, then emptied in a quick, heady rush that made him push hard against the sweat soaked back, pressing himself as deep as he could into Watari, melding their bodies for one sweet instant.

He did not hear anything other than his laboured breaths for a moment, his heart racing wildly, his hand sticky even though he had not realized his partner had come too, that he was still trembling against him. He released his death grip on the other man's waist, instead rubbing his hand up the smooth line of Watari's torso, soothing him, as he had been soothed more than once during their sessions. They lay tangled together, breathing evening out, tension ebbing away as the rain splattered against the window. Neither spoke, neither moved; it was comfortable, more so than most of the times they were together, as if there were a connection that extended beyond sex.

It was the scientist who broke the silence, with a low, contented hum, wriggling his ass a little. Tatsumi took it as his clue to slip out, sighing even as he shivered, realising for the first time that it was cool in the room, especially now that sweat and semen were cooling on their bodies.

"Shower, now." He let Watari move away and get up, let himself be prodded in the shoulder and dragged out of bed and into the bathroom; still taking his orders. They stood together under the spray, cleaning themselves swiftly. Tatsumi did not look at his partner, though acutely aware of each brush of skin against skin; he only met the scientist's eyes once they were both dried and dressed, albeit in his case the clothes were slightly rumpled. Then he stood quietly by the bed, waiting for more orders. He had never been in such a situation before and it was making him nervous. Watari looked at him, cocking his head.

"I have instant coffee, that Nescafι stuff, green tea, or … hm, I think there's coconut milk in the fridge. Don't have much in the way of food, I usually just have miso soup. Instant powder, but it's good. And not even I can mess up on cooking that. You can have rice too, if you like. 003 will want some at any rate, that is if she's already back from her night hunt."

"Tea's fine, thanks. I can help with the food."

Watari smiled, "Right, you're a much better cook then me anyway(1). Come along, then. You can make the rice, I'll see to the rest."

It was strange how well they worked together, even on something as mundane as making breakfast. Given that the kitchen was extremely small, it was a testament to their silent co-ordination and perfect co-operation that they never bumped into each other or got in each other's way. Watari hummed something under his breath, grinning when he caught Tatsumi's puzzled gaze, "It's the Blue Danube, a waltz by Johann Strauss, Austrian composer, lived a little before your time (2)."

"I haven't heard of him, but the tune is lovely."

"I've got a CD somewhere, we can listen to the original while we eat, I'm probably butchering it beyond recognition – my granny used to say I had a horrible ear for music."

"That's only because she never heard me sing." The deadpan tone did nothing to conceal the low chuckle. Watari laughed in response, eyes shining, "You know you're just making me curious to hear you sing, don't you?"

Tatsumi shook his head, smiling. He was surprised and perhaps a little excited at how easy it was to have a conversation that extended beyond work and sex. He did not consider himself to be very good at small talk, but as long as Watari found him amusing, it could not be that bad.

~ *** ~

Tatsumi sighed softly as he felt Watari's hair trail across his sweat slicked skin teasingly, stretching a little so he could arch upwards better, the muscles in his shoulders only slightly protesting the movement although they were tied up above his head. A hand on his chest made him stop, as a warm tongue began tracing his lips. He did not even consider resisting as he opened his mouth for a slow, wet kiss.

"Want me to untie you, pet?"

Since shrugging was out of the question, Tatsumi had to pull his brain cells together to form an answer. "Maybe…" he trailed off in a moan, as a little wriggle brought his groin up against Watari's. Though they were both spent, pleasurable little shivers ran through his body at the contact.

"Hm. You look so debauched right now…" Oh, he sure felt like it and he knew his partner well enough to know there was a self-satisfied smirk on his face just now; not unmerited, given the intensity of the last game and Tatsumi's responses to it. Watari's hands trailed up his arms, loosening the soft length that tied him to the bed, then gingerly massaged his wrists before removing the blindfold. "Did you like having your eyes covered?"

Tatsumi shrugged softly, "I do not usually have my eyes open, Watari-san, there wasn't much of a difference."

"That's not true, pet. You enjoy watching me when I go down on you!"

Brilliant move, now he was feeling hot, as if he were blushing. Which was not something that Tatsumi Seiichiro ever did – too undignified. He ignored the other man's amused chuckle and focused on the soft thing bunched at his side.

"Is that what you use to tie me up?" It looked a bit … strange. The secretary's eyes narrowed… "It's a scarf! A knitted scarf!"

His voice sounded slightly perplexed, almost offended and Watari laughed out, winking at him, "Are you telling me you think it's not comfortable?"

"No. I like it."

There was honest surprise on Tatsumi's face, as if he had only just realised the scarf felt good, but he also wore a slightly awed look as he reached out to take it scarf in his hand, the other coming to rest on Watari's hip to make sure the other man stayed on top of him. Watari chuckled, "Hedonist. I'll remember that." There was a short pause, then he continued, in a more serious tone, "My grandmother taught me to knit. She always wanted a granddaughter, but she only got me. So I knew how to perfectly knit a scarf by the time I was six – and a sock by the time I was eight."

"You made this yourself?" Tatsumi regarded the scarf again quizzically. It was well done, even he could see that, although its design was perhaps a little unusual. It seemed as if Watari had purposely used as many different colours as possible and even the wool was not the same, varying in thickness and softness. But for all its little peculiarities, it was warm and fairly smooth, and certainly comfortable. Much like the man who had made it. Tatsumi smiled.

"I've got many hidden talents, pet." The scientist rolled off, coming to lie beside him, hands settling comfortably on his waist.

"I have no doubt about that." Watari smiled as he leant forward, his head resting on Tatsumi's shoulder, his hands tightening briefly before he pulled back, dragging the blankets around them. He fell asleep quickly, one leg draped across his lover's body, one arm slung around his shoulders. It left little room to move about, but that was alright, especially after Tatsumi's hand had found his partner's backside and nudged him closer, letting their groins settle against each other. He closed his eyes, a small smile on his face as he kept stroking the scarf in his hand.

~ *** ~

It would have come as a shock to most of the Shokan division, but Tatsumi actually did not like paperwork. He was not entirely averse to it, as it was a part of 'getting the job done', yet he did not enjoy it. Especially not now that he had found something far more pleasant to do in the evenings. Which, of course, he was not going to dwell on – Watari-san only offered a friendship with benefits and he was not prepared to interpret more into certain reactions than strictly necessary. Like the scientist's gentleness when he tied him up, or the way his eyes lit up when Tatsumi kissed him swiftly in the morning, without being prompted, even though he should have known better than to give such an intimate response.

However, there was still paperwork piled up beside him on the couch, on the table in front of him, and on his lap and he had to concentrate on that, rather than on thoughts he had no business having. Tatsumi slowly raised a hand to knead his sore neck, wincing at the muscle cramps he felt beneath his fingers. A hot shower might help, but abandoning his work when there was so much more to do – expense reports were due in a week and though his division (in other words Tatsumi himself) was the only one even bothering to hand in said reports in a form befitting a well-working operation such as Enma-Cho, it was a matter of pride and honour to do it properly.

The front door flew open just then, gripped by a black-gloved hand before it banged into the wall, "I'm hooooome!"

"I can hear you, Watari-san." Tatsumi did not analyse why he was in the scientist's apartment again or why the other man seemed to expect him to be there. He was, after all, becoming excessively good at not thinking about certain things; his after-life was not complicated and that was just the way it was meant to be. He was not involved in a proper relationship, merely taking advantage of opportunities that presented themselves. Tatsumi Seiichiro was practical and that was all there was to the situation.

"Hey, there you are! Did you take the whole office with you? You've practically draped the living room in paperwork – if this is your idea of re-decorating, I must say I don't like it."

Of course, the stoic secretary did not reply, not even when the scientist nudged a stack of papers aside to squeeze onto the couch beside him, flinging an arm around his shoulders and peeking at the report he was reading, "Work with me, Tatsumi. Say something; anything – give me a nod, even. I hate being ignored! I'll go into Tsuzuki-mode and annoy you!"

Still no answer, not that Tatsumi did not want to, but he had nothing to offer save for his usual 'Work is important, Watari-san. I need to get this done, please leave me alone' and that would only serve to make the other man leave and that was not quite what he wanted. Not that he knew what he wanted, really, because cuddling on the couch was not something he could admit to liking and hoping for without making himself feel like an idiot. Or a little boy and he did not quite know which was worse.

"Right, you're doing the strong but silent routine. Fine with me; I'll see about dinner…"

"I cooked something, it's in the microwave; the top bowl is for 003."

Watari did not say anything, just squeezed his shoulder briefly, a frown stealing across his face as he pulled back and got up, calling for the small owl as he strode into the kitchen. Tatsumi suppressed a sigh and gave his full concentration to the report in front of him, directing hateful vibes at each new figure he encountered. He pursed his lips, re-calculating the sums quickly in his head, before making adjustments, crossing some numbers out and writing new ones in their stead. He was completely engulfed in what he was doing and did not consciously take note of Watari's returning into the room.

The door to the small bathroom opened and closed and Tatsumi briefly closed his eyes, willing himself not to give in to the craving to join the other man. As nice as it would be to give in to temptation, he had work to do; and work always came first – he had learned the hard way that you only got something if you worked hard for it. He crossed out another figure with more force than strictly necessary, feeling an almost childish satisfaction as the tip of the pencil broke, leaving a thick, grey line that would easily smudge if he happened to run his finger across it. Which he would not do, of course.

The door opened again, though he could not remember having heard the water running. Perhaps Watari had simply changed… "Tatsumi, did I leave my hair tie out here?" He knew it was a mistake to look up. His partner was only clad in a towel, which left very little to the imagination as it was one of the smallest the man owned. Barely covering his ass, which the secretary did not take pleasure in looking at, and held loosely in one hand, not quite managing to close on the front. If he had not known better, he would have said he was being seduced.

"I don't think it's here, Watari-san. Perhaps you left it in the kitchen?" And of course his eyes would not be following the other man as he moved past him to look for his hair tie – there was a always a slight bounce to the scientist's step and his long hair swayed from side to side as he walked, offering glimpses of smooth, pale skin. "Not there either – by the way, are we eating together later?"

"I'm busy, Watari-san," some small part of Tatsumi cringed at saying something like that and that certainly was new.

"You won't get all of this done tonight, especially not on an empty stomach. I know you haven't had lunch. And since you were out before I woke up, I hazard to guess you didn't even eat breakfast."

Tatsumi made a non-committal noise – which he was as good at as Kurosaki was at frowning – and kept his eyes on the paper, where they belonged. The edges of the white towel coming into his peripheral vision would not distract him from his work.

"Look at me, pet," the tone was soft, yet it was never disobeyed. He looked up, avoiding the towel, the defined chest and stomach, and focusing on his partner's face.

"Let's make a bargain. You have dinner with me, I give you a massage, and then I leave you alone. Deal?"

It sounded innocent enough, but Tatsumi knew better than to underestimate Watari, clad in a towel or fully dressed. The way the scientist cocked his head was alluring and boyish and even though there was a bit of apprehension in his nod, the slow smile he received made taking the risk worthwhile, "You are up to something." Watari chuckled, taking hold of his hand, not denying the statement as he dropped the towel and dragged his partner into the kitchen.

On their appearance, 003 gave a hoot that sounded almost indignant as she flapped her wings. If she had been human, Tatsumi would have accused her of covering her eyes only to steal a peak at Watari between her fingers, feathers, whatever. She was cheeky that way – if she had not been an owl, he would have been jealous. Not that he was possessive of his partner – after all, they were not in a relationship. It never hurt to remind himself of that simple fact.

"You're going to spoil me, you know? You're such a good cook … here. I made jasmine tea – there, on the counter; I put your cup beside it. Can you find the chopsticks? I think we've run out of napkins, I put them on the shopping list. You want more rice?"

Tatsumi listened, nodding or shaking his head in the right places, as he filled his cup and took the chopsticks from the drawer. It was odd hearing Watari chatter, filling their plates and placing them on the table, along with a cup of genmai tea, which he preferred – all that stark naked. Sometimes, the word 'crazy' did indeed come to mind when thinking about the scientist, and it usually had nothing to do with his experiments. Still, Tatsumi smiled as they sat down and began to eat in comfortable silence.

~ *** ~

He did not want to look at the clock, which probably said it was much later than it should be. Having finished the expense reports last week, even though Watari had managed to thoroughly take his mind off work that one night – what his partner so innocently called 'massage' had reduced him to a trembling mass of jelly – and he had been feeling so thoroughly good he had fallen asleep despite his arousal and his best intentions to stay awake. Watari had smirked at him over breakfast, of course. In fact, he had continued feeling pleased with himself for the rest of the week, being so cheerful that even Tsuzuki had remarked upon it.

On the one hand, it was disconcerting to think that something as embarrassing as his falling asleep on his partner could produce such a measure of happiness in the latter. On the other hand, he felt a certain pleasure himself at being able to make someone else even slightly happy. Perhaps that was why he had not protested at all when he had been pampered the rest of the week, finding take-out on his desk at lunchtime, with cups of steaming coffee popping up like magic when he most needed them, and coming home to cookies or cake courtesy of Wakaba-chan. He did not want to know how Watari had bribed her into baking, especially considering he had seen them whispering in the break room one day, standing entirely too close for his liking. But, as he reminding himself, he was not jealous and the scientist was only being a good friend.

That was also the reason why he was waiting up for the other man, glaring at the clock that said it was almost midnight. It was rare for Watari to be home so late, at least since he no longer stayed the night at his lab. Tatsumi sighed, stifling a yawn as he turned his attention back to the book he was reading. Kurosaki had left it in the break room that day and since it was Friday, Tatsumi had thought it better to take it home and guard it over the weekend. It turned out Kurosaki was reading poetry; the book was slightly battered, probably second-hand, and contained a collection of – and that was a surprise – love poems.

Of course, Tatsumi hoped that this was a sign the young man was making progress with Tsuzuki; they were both in desperate need of some happiness and, as Watari put it, "perfect for one another". While 'perfection' was debatable, he had to admit that Kurosaki had a positive effect on his partner and Tatsumi could not begrudge Tsuzuki the one thing he loved more than death. He had not been able to help noticing the flirt with suicide that had followed the man throughout his after-life.

Nor could he forget just what his calling Touda in Kyoto had meant and how close Tsuzuki had come to leaving them all behind and, perhaps, finally resting in peace. But through all the possessiveness that called to Tatsumi that he should have been the one to bring his former partner back, he also realized now that he did not have a future with the man and that his deep affection had mellowed into something more familial, less desperate, needy, and sexual. It gave him a strange sense of relief to be able to admit this, if only to himself. He turned the page, coming upon one of the poems that Kurosaki seemed to be especially fond of, since he had book-marked it with a thin amethyst band.

While he read, he kept glancing at the clock, then paused as he came across one particularly interesting line: 'But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you'; his eyes flitted upwards on the page and he smiled suddenly, re-reading the entire stanza,

'How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face' (3)

It certainly fit Tsuzuki on many levels, but there was another person who he could apply it to if he let his mind wander along paths he considered dangerous to his own peace of mind. But his thoughts were being treacherous again and all of a sudden an idea crossed his mind that, although it made him colour slightly, seemed quite intriguing nevertheless. Which in itself should have unsettled him far more than it did. Yet he needed his partner to carry out that idea. As if on cue, he heard the sound of a key in the lock and his eyebrow rose even as an almost mischievous grin played around the corners of his mouth.

A few minutes later, Watari tiptoed in on his way to the bedroom and Tatsumi coughed, making the other man drop the clothes he held with a squeal he only just managed to muffle with his hand, "Tatsumi! Give a guy a heart attack…"

"You're already dead, Watari-san. And it's seven past twelve – I was wondering when you'd get back."

"So late? No wonder 003 kept pulling my hair – I must've lost track of time," the little owl zoomed into the room, "Ah… there you are, I'm really sorry …"

003 flapped around the scientist's head, with hoots and flight manoeuvres that, if applied to a human would have been an indignant huff or perhaps a pout, before flying on top of the bookshelf next to the window, obviously sulking. Tatsumi masked his smile with a yawn. Watari sighed, "Fine, if you want to be like that, 003. I still have Tatsumi…" His voice sounded tired.

"Were you successful tonight?" Probably not – if he had been, the scientist would have stormed in to wake his partner up and share whatever brilliant discovery he had made. But then again, it never hurt to ask – if his partner wanted to talk about it, he at least needed an invitation to do so.

"Nope. But that's ok, I've probably only mis…"

"Sit down," he patted the empty space beside him.

Watari cocked his head at being interrupted in mid-sentence, but he was obviously feeling too dejected and tired to argue or play his patented 'I-am-the-only-one-who-gives-orders-here' game. He dropped to the couch, leaning against his partner, "I was so close, Tatsumi. I'm always close, but still I never get there."

He could have said that it had to be frustrating, that he understood, that he was willing to listen. That was, however, not part of Tatsumi's plan for that night. And, as always when he had something to accomplish, nothing would stand in his way. He turned slightly, rubbing his head against Watari's, one hand coming to rest on the other man's thigh and beginning a slow, circular motion. The scientist sighed, leaning his head back and exposing his throat – which was exactly what Tatsumi had wanted him to do. He nuzzled his nose against the warm skin, letting his tongue slip out to lick a little now and then as he moved downwards, his hand still stroking Watari's thigh, while the other undid the button on the black jeans.

"Hm, that's nice," the scientist's voice was slightly deeper than usual and he made a purring noise in the back of his throat that turned into a gasp when Tatsumi pulled away from him, dropping onto his knees in front of the couch and spreading his partner's legs. Before Watari could voice any protest about this course of action, he had already leant forward for a quick kiss, nipping at the other man's neck as he whispered, "I know what I'm doing, Watari-san; you may, however, be vocal in your encouragement."

Tatsumi found that the words were a little more difficult to say than he had expected, but then again, it was his first attempt at seducing his partner, so he supposed it did not matter too much. At least Watari resumed his purring, one hand coming to rest warm and reassuringly on his shoulder even as he pulled the zipper down. He was probably colouring as his hands found their way beneath the scientist's ass, urging him to lift his hips so he could pull the jeans off – that Watari's boxers came off along with them was an added bonus.

Still not looking up, Tatsumi resumed his slow stroking of his partner's thighs, feeling muscles clench and shift under warm skin. He took a deep breath and moved one hand to touch the other man's balls, holding them carefully, getting used to the feel. It should not have been that different to touching himself, but it somehow was, though he could not quite put his finger on it. He did not dwell on apprehensions for long, however, but ran his finger up Watari's cock, feeling the velvet ridges from root to tip. Leaning forward a little more, he licked along the line his finger had followed, closing his eyes briefly. While he technically knew what a blowjob was all about, doing it was a different matter.

Yet, the twitching of Watari's cock and his low moan were more gratifying than he had hoped for – he was a pessimist after all – and he repeated the motion, the taste not that different from his partner's skin elsewhere, though instead of the salty tang of sweat, it was infused with the aroma of heated musk that was strong in Watari's lap. Another quick lick and another, making sure the response was actually genuine, before he grasped his partner's hardening cock with one hand and let his lips slide across the tip, then part and edge a little further down, then up again. He barely heard his name being groaned through the blood pounding in his ears, sure he was as red as Kurosaki when Tsuzuki levelled one of his blatant attempts at seduction at him.

The slow motion of his head was encouraged by Watari's other hand threading into his hair, steadying him while his own hands both fell to his partner's waist to hold his hips still. He swirled his tongue around the hard shaft in his mouth as well as he could, hollowing his cheeks and sucking experimentally, feeling a bitterer tang as the taste of Watari's skin mingled with pre-come. He continued his movements, almost mechanical, and he could not quite understand how his partner could enjoy doing this to him. It was a weird way of giving pleasure, not exactly unpleasant, but not arousing either.

"Don't stop, don't, please …" the sentence ended in a groan and the hand on his shoulder tightened. Tatsumi looked up quickly – Watari's back was arched, his head thrown back and his tangled locks clung to his flushed face and neck. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, and he looked more vulnerable than Tatsumi had ever seen him before. It was an image he knew he would never forget – precious in its intimacy and also a bit arousing as he realized that he had caused his partner to lose control, that it was because of him, unskilled as he was that Watari was now pleading for more.

His lips tightened fractionally around his partner's flesh and he took a deep breath through his nose, smelling sex, as he tried to keep his teeth from scraping against the cock in his mouth as he resumed his up-and-down movements. His embarrassment pushed to the back of his mind, he listened to Watari panting, breathlessly asking him not to stop, telling him he was doing it right and he felt a tightening in his own groin.

He pulled back slightly, using one hand to keep his partner's glistening, saliva slicked cock still for a moment, before he licked the tip, then closes his lips around it, sucking carefully, a gasped and slightly mangled version of his name the only warning he received of Watari's impending orgasm. He slid his lips a little further down the twitching shaft to better catch his partner's release. He closed his eyes, hoping it would be less awkward swallowing the slightly bitter, creamy substance; this part was something he would need to get used to, perhaps, yet he could not have said he was disgusted by it either. His hands dropped back down to quivering thighs, stroking slowly until the trembling in the lithe body stopped.

The hand on his shoulder released its tight hold and moved to his face, tracing his jaw line, then tilting his chin up. Watari's breath was ragged and his eyes were slightly unfocused, probably because his glasses had slipped to the tip of his nose. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against Tatsumi's, letting him feel the smile as their glasses connected with a click-clack of glass and metal. Pulling back, he lazily stretched, letting his black tank top ride up and expose his stomach; he yawned and nudged Tatsumi's shoulder with his knee, scrambling to his feet and wriggling out of his jeans and boxers, using his partner's shoulders to balance himself. He held out his hand to the still kneeling man, still smiling, "Come on, time for bed."

Tatsumi let himself be pulled to his feet and into a quick, tight hug. Watari's hand settled in the small of his back, guiding him towards the bedroom, where he proceeded to get rid of both their clothes and tackled Tatsumi to the bed, where he taught him a neat trick for going down that had him seeing stars. Of course, Watari spent the next morning smirking at his partner over breakfast, only that this time, Tatsumi smirked back.

~ *** ~

Pale cherry blossoms danced around him as he hurried to the office. He was a bit later than usual – which did, of course, not mean that anyone besides him would be in – but he had preparations to make. He wished the sun were shining, but there was nothing he could do against the clouds and the cool winds. If he were Tsuzuki, he would have said it was unfair the weather should be so bad on Watari's birthday, when the man himself was always so warm and cheerful.

Being a logic and reasonable man, he was, however, preoccupied with getting to the office, wrapping his partner's present, and making tea before he turned up. While by no means an early riser, the scientist did not sleep much longer than Tatsumi and his short stop in Chijou had taken a bit longer than he had originally thought. He had asked Kurosaki-kun in passing where he got his second-hand books and been given a list of seven different shops, all of which he had been visiting whenever he could slip out of the office during his lunch break. It had been difficult to provide Watari with enough distraction – but luckily Terazuma-san and Wakaba-chan had brought in an old scroll that needed deciphering and the scientist (along with 003 and several computers) had been working on it for almost three weeks.

He rushed up the steps, trailing cherry blossoms behind him through the dark corridors, breezed into his office, and placed the plastic bag that held his partner's present on his desk. It was only a matter of opening the bottom drawer and taking out the wrapping paper he had stashed there seven weeks before – he always planned a while ahead, of course – and in no more than five minutes, he was finished. He had barely entered the break room when he heard steps in the hall and he busied himself with putting water into the electric kettle and turning it on, his back to the door.

"Morning, Tatsumi."

"Good morning, Watari-san. You are early."

"You still have your coat on. And you're a little out of breath – should I be jealous?" Tatsumi shook his head, even though he could not suppress his smile. He slipped out of his coat, holding out his present to the other man, "Happy birthday, Watari-san." His tone was perhaps a bit too formal tone, but his partner was used to it by now and just grinned. Tatsumi found it particularly gratifying to see Watari's eyes shine when he looked at the present. Neatly wrapped, in dark-blue paper, as was to be expected from a man like him, it sported a ribbon for the first time in almost three decades, and a colourful one at that. It had been a last minute decision this morning and he had actually wanted a golden one, but unfortunately the only one available had been yellow with red dots.

Watari chuckled, his fingers stroking the hideous thing, before pulling Tatsumi into a hug. He drew back when they heard footsteps in the corridor and a glance at the clock revealed it was 8:30, which meant the others were slowly coming to the office. Moments later, the door opened and Tsuzuki bounced into the break room, his partner in tow. Catching sight of his friend, he gave something that sounded almost like a squeal and flung himself at the blonde, squeezing him tightly.

"Happy birthday! You didn't think we'd forget, did you? I wanted to cook, but Hisoka said I wasn't to kill you straight off; so we went shopping together and found a nice present and a birthday cake! Wakaba-chan will probably bring another one though. We even got candles, but not quite as many as we might need, seeing how ancient you are," here he winked, took a deep breath, and rambled on, "of course we could have taken you out to dinner and I said we should; but then Hisoka said you might have plans and we couldn't just drag you off, so we'll celebrate here and if you still want to go out we can, we'll just have to call the restaur..."

Kurosaki-kun saw fit to nudge his partner midway through his rant and greeted Tatsumi, echoed moments later by a sheepish Tsuzuki, "Ah, hello Tatsumi!"

"Good morning. It's commendable you are on time at least on Watari-san's birthday, Tsuzuki-san. I would appreciate it, however, if this were a more frequent occurrence."

Tsuzuki had the grace to look slightly abashed, but he was obviously in a very good mood, so he began to grin and bounce again almost immediately, while Hisoka handed over a brightly wrapped present, with both their good wishes.

Watari was beaming, "Can I open the presents right now? Pleeeeeeaasse?" His features were not exactly right for the puppy-look Tsuzuki was so well versed at, yet it was enough to spark an instant reaction, from Kurosaki no less.

"Of course! Tsuzuki, you can make tea and put plates, napkins, and cups on the table..." The boy could be as business-like as Tatsumi at times. The secretary was hard pressed to hide his smile.

"But..."

"You can pout all you like, Tsuzuki, but I'm not going to leave you alone with the cake, not even for a minute!"

"You're mean!" Sticking his tongue out at his partner, Tsuzuki bounced towards the cupboard. Tatsumi finally allowed himself to smile indulgently at the display, though his attention was focused primarily on Watari, who was unwrapping Hisoka's and Tsuzuki's present, which turned out to be a stack of notepads in various sizes and a large assortment of biros. Knowing just how much paper a scientist needed (especially if he insisted on drawing as a hobby), as well as the propensity of losing biros, the present was at once thoughtful and practical. Tatsumi assumed it had been Kurosaki's idea; Tsuzuki was, for all his sweet nature, convinced that the perfect present for anybody was sweets.

"Bon, Tsuzuki, thanks so much! This is great! I ran out of biros last week! And I'm almost out of notepads, too!" Jumping up, Watari grabbed first Hisoka in a hug, making the boy blush fiercely, then squeezed Tsuzuki as the man bounced closer, napkins and plates in his arms. "It was all Hisoka's idea! I'd have gotten you sweets!"

Tatsumi busied himself with taking the plates from Tsuzuki – he did not want them to end up in a thousand pieces, after all – laying the table with precision. He did not look up when he heard the rustling of paper. He was a bit unsure of the present – it had taken him a while to find and he was quite sure Watari would like it, but it was something very personal too; and that was perhaps a bit too much considering their not-quite-acknowledged relationship.

"Tatsumi!" The cup he was holding fell to the table, spinning a bit before – thankfully – coming to a halt, all in one piece, as he was pulled into a tight hug. Watari held him close with one arm, head against his neck, mumbling something into his shirt-collar. He pulled back a moment later, colour in his cheeks and at the tips of his ears, with a smile so radiant it left Tatsumi in no doubt that his present was appreciated.

"I can't believe you remembered! Gosh, where did you get it? I've been looking for ages!"

"What? What did Tatsumi get you?" Tsuzuki's curiosity was certainly aroused; even Kurosaki tried to get a look at the item Watari was clutching to his chest as if his life depended on it.

"It's a book!" the scientist proclaimed, proudly brandishing the withered copy in front of his friends' faces, "but not just any book! It's the first chemistry book I ever had! I mentioned it to Tatsumi in passing some time – I've been looking for a copy for years and I haven't been able to find it. This holds so many memories..." He looked straight at his partner, eyes sparkling, his voice thick with emotion, "Thank you, Tatsumi!"

And Tatsumi found that, even though Hisoka was suddenly looking at him with a strange twinkle in his eyes and Tsuzuki was grinning slyly, all he needed to do was smile in return and accept another enthusiastic hug, before he was ushered to sit down, have cake, listen to Tsuzuki, and indulge the rest of the office in congratulating Watari. When he slipped into his office an hour later, he held a note, hastily scribbled with new writing utensils and thrust into his hand.

We *need* to talk tonight. I'll get us dinner – 8pm. Don't be late. Love, W

For the rest of the day, Tatsumi jingled his key to Watari's small apartment, curious and apprehensive at the same time.

~ *** ~

Tatsumi was nervous when he knocked on Watari's door. He could have used his key, but after the note he had gotten, he felt that whatever would happen was too important to just let himself in. In a way, it felt deliciously exciting, as if they were having their first date. Which was probably not that far from the truth, although Tatsumi could not have said, since he had never had a date in his (after-)life and therefore did not know what qualified as such. Somehow he did not think that sex and breakfast or dinner and sex or just dinner at home were to be considered as dating. He would have asked Tsuzuki, but the thought of the man dying from laughter – at his expense – was not exactly pleasant.

The door opened, amber eyes blinked at him, "Oh, Tatsumi. Did you forget your keys?"

This had the potential to become very embarrassing. He was sure his face was not quite as impassive as it should be as he thrust a green stem with a yellow flower at his partner. He unfortunately could not remember what the lady in the flower store had said the thing was. Plants were something he usually only noticed in passing; still, as far as he knew, you were supposed to bring your date something and after the amount of chocolate and cake his partner had likely consumed throughout the day, sweets were out of the question. Watari cocked his head, eyed him quizzically, but smiled, "A sunflower? Why, thank you, finally one thing to tick off the list."

Tatsumi's eyebrow shot up, startled. The other man chuckled, "I have this list about reasons for wanting to be a woman. Getting flowers is one of them – you know, none of my dates ever bothered. The ladies were expecting me to get them roses or something and the men couldn't have cared less."

"I didn't mean to … I don't think of you as a woman!" And not only did he not think of his partner as a woman, he also did not want him to be one. It would be strange, in a way, even though he had spent most of his life believing that desire for another man was a weird and unnatural thing.

A soft laugh, "Oh, I don't mind being the woman in our relationship, as long as it's clearly understood that I'm on top." Watari took the flower from him then, a warm hand closing over his, drawing him inside, "I very much appreciate the thought, Tatsumi." His voice was strangely soft.

"I just thought this was … a date, perhaps … Or did we already have one … before?" If he could colour any more, he would probably be rivalling Kurosaki-kun. The thought was scary.

"Define 'date'," a quick kiss on the lips, warm and familiar, "But as the general definition goes, no. But then I don't care much for dates. I always managed to end up in bed after going out. It was like…a responsibility, you know? Because someone spent money on me and expected to be repaid for it, with sex mostly. And quite frankly, would you take me out just because I can talk a mile a minute about all manner of mechanical and chemical things you've never heard of and aren't remotely interested in?"

"Why not? I don't see anything wrong with broadening my horizon."

Watari's smile widened, his eyes sparkling, "Of course you don't; but then you're actually worth going out with." His grip on Tatsumi's wrist tightened briefly and he pulled his partner, unresisting, into the kitchen, "I got take-out, Italian. Tsuzuki told me about the place, he said Bon loves it. And then he winked at him – did you know Bon's face can go from pale to lobster red in less than two seconds?"

"I can somehow imagine," Tatsumi's voice was steady again and his heart beat less frantically. He was beginning to tell himself he had imagined that they had touched upon one of the subjects he had forbidden himself to think about, as he sat down opposite his partner.

"Tatsumi?"

"Yes?"

"What I wanted to talk about, other than your wonderful present … I thought we could … move in with each other. I mean, we're technically already sharing my apartment and…," he grinned, "it would be much cheaper if you gave up your flat. We could even save the department money."

He had to hand it to his partner, that was a move worthy of a pro. Tatsumi knew he had little choice in the matter – not that he was of a mind to protest the idea, it had crossed his own mind too. But for Watari to use expenses and the budget to 'influence' him – he was impressed. So much so that his lips quirked upwards, "You certainly have a point there. In fact, I absolutely agree with you. We also should not lose any time – if we are quick, we can save the rent for May already."

"Oh, we should definitely do that. Inventory of your flat on Saturday?"

"I will make a note in my diary."

"Excellent – you want some more sauce on the spaghetti?"

~ *** ~

"Tell me again why I'm doing this."

"Because you wanted a date."

"And this is a date, in the traditional definition of the word, because…"

"Because we've gone out, of course. Really, Tatsumi, I don't see your problem."

"We're having take-out in the middle of a lake in Chijou, sitting in a boat that is likely to capsize at any moment. And you're making it sway about on purpose."

Tatsumi decided he needed to learn how to pout or sulk properly, so he could get his point across better. He just knew 003 was having the time of her life, hovering just above his shoulder, only waiting for him to stop gesturing before settling down to pull at his hair. Watari swore it was a show of affection, but then the man had far longer hair and did not seem to mind when some of it was pulled out in one of 003's overenthusiastic moments of love.

His partner laughed out loud, laying a hand on his knee as he leant forward to kiss him softly, still chuckling against his lips, "Is it really that bad?"

"No, not that bad," he stole a kiss, "but I don't think we should use a boat next time. A midnight picnic would surely be more comfortable on a steady surface."

"You're just thinking of dessert!"

"I'm not Tsuzuki-san!"

Watari laughed again, "Not that kind of dessert, Tatsumi."

Now he smirked, "I know; and I also happen to have some very interesting gossip that you don't know about yet."

"What?!"

"Get me back to the shore and I'll tell you."

The scientist grumbled about evil blackmailing secretaries as he grabbed the oars, though he did not protest as much as he could have. Tatsumi somehow felt he was being cheeky; he wondered if that was what little boys felt like. It was a nice feeling, as if he were alive. He swayed forward a little as the boat bumped against the shore, steadying himself on Watari's knees. Earth, sweet earth – he got out as fast as possible and settled down onto the, unfortunately wet, grass. His initial flinch at dew seeping through his trousers was offset by the warm body falling on top of him.

"Now, tell meeeeeee!"

He smirked, something he only did regularly when around Watari. It was not really a contest, perhaps an unofficial competition of who could smirk about his little 'victories' more often. It would have been more effective if they had kept scores. His partner wriggled, drawing his attention back to the amber eyes peering at him, "Tatsumi! You promised!"

The temptation to keep his information to himself a little longer was strong, yet the glow in the other man's eyes and his own wish to actually talk about it was stronger, "I saw Kurosaki-kun snogging Tsuzuki-san in the corridor leading to the library."

Watari's eyes widened, then he laughed again, dropping his head onto his arms, crossed on Tatsumi's chest, "Ah, finally. So Bon was the initiator, was he?"

"Quite obviously so. I assume that the 'pep-talk' and 'safe-sex' leaflet you gave him had something to do with it."

"You're very observant, Tatsumi, that's commendable for a man of your standing. But I did little more than mention to Bon he would forever be a frustrated, hormone-driven teenager and there was only one thing to do against it. I had no idea he would turn to such a drastic…"

Tatsumi pushed himself up, one hand threading into Watari's locks, the other holding tight onto his waist as he rolled over, smothering the offended squeal with his mouth. If his back was wet, his partner's would be too. And, of course, said partner had to turn the tables by shamelessly sighing, wrapping his legs and arms around Tatsumi and taking control of the kiss in a matter of seconds. Sometimes, he asked himself why he even bothered.

~ *** ~

Tatsumi had to admit he was comfortable in his new life, if he could call it that. He had officially moved in with Watari at the beginning of May, even though only the Chief knew about their change of address. Since Tatsumi had never told anyone exactly where he lived, it was not necessary to inform the rest of the division, well, apart from Tsuzuki-san, who had visited his place when they were working with each other.

Thankfully, Kurosaki-kun had agreed to make sure his partner kept his mouth shut. While he had not mentioned 'bribes' of any sort, the dreamy look on Tsuzuki's face for the next few days was enough to make the entire Shokan division take notice of the nature of their relationship. He had supposed it would disturb Kurosaki-kun, however, the boy had not even flinched – if he blushed a little more now, it probably had to do with Tsuzuki's increased efforts to get a reaction out of him.

Watari did not seem to mind they were not openly acknowledging their relationship. It was probably due to the fact they had always strictly separated their work and their private lives. Of course, sometimes they would be barely civil to each other in the break room, but quarrels were only to be expected. Even though the first time they had had a shouting match, he had felt ill, entirely sure his partner would be throwing him out of his apartment and his life.

He could not even remember what had been the reason for their quarrel, only that they had both very passionately (and loudly) stated their respective thoughts. Along with a few choice insults that were personal enough to really hurt; and that was what still made Tatsumi flinch. They should have been happy and content together, after all. Having Watari bang a door in his face with a "You're such a damn asshole" after he had accused him of being a "useless burden on the budget" had been the end of the quarrel itself – the repercussions were much more difficult to deal with.

Tatsumi had made sure to avoid any emotional entanglements – apart from Tsuzuki-san, although he hated to admit that – most of his (after-)life, so he was more than unprepared to tackle the aftermath of a fight. He had not quarrelled with his mother and when he had said something she did not like hearing, he had seen it quickly in her eyes and apologized at once. Now, he had to deal with Watari, and the man was passionate and fiery – and furious with him in a way his mother had never been. An apology, however well-meant and heart-felt still left him in a volatile position, since it was highly unlikely his partner would just nod, extend his hand for a kiss and then wave him out of the room like his mother had done.

Since going home had not been an alternative, he had stayed in his office, pouring over expense reports, and finally fallen asleep in his chair. 5:23am found him awake, with bleary eyes and a cramp in his neck and shoulders, gasping in the aftermath of a nightmare that had Watari jumping into Touda's flames to make him pay for having started a quarrel. The fear that refused to abate in the cold dusk had him out of his chair, then down the hall and, the echoing of his steps in the corridors still in his ears, outside in the cool air, with cherry blossoms rushing at him, making him gasp. A moment later, he had teleported to their apartment, willing his fingers to stop shaking long enough to insert the key into the lock.

He was accosted by a very indignant little owl as he stepped inside, feeling her wings slide against his face (she was hoping to hit him, of course, but her feathers were far too soft to hurt) as her chiding hoots accompanied his trek into the bedroom. He did remind himself to breathe as he saw Watari's body, curled up under the blankets, breathing deeply – the sight had to be enough though, he could not image going inside and hugging his partner close, not after their quarrel. So he stumbled into the kitchen, managing to be fairly quiet, even muffling his curse as he burned his hand on the kettle. 003 was still scolding him, having settled on top of the microwave, flapping her wings (she did look as if she were gesticulating wildly) and clapping her beak in between her hoots. He was only glad she was not yet angry enough to peck him.

He was exhausted enough to fall asleep on the kitchen table, hands wrapped around his teacup although he had truly planned to go back to the office. Watari had shaken him awake and he had flinched at seeing him, starting to apologize before the other man could even open his mouth. He was convinced it would be useless, but he had an opportunity and he could at least try before he was kicked out. In a way, it was preferable to his mother's languidly ignoring him, at least he would know where he stood at once.

He jumped as Watari reached out for him, drawing him into an embrace, stopping his incessant rambling as his mouth was pressed against the other man's chest, "It's not only your fault, Tatsumi, it takes two to quarrel. And I'm sorry for what I've said too, very sorry. I'm horrible at apologizing as well, so I'm sorry for that and … I missed you last night."

He had not been able to speak, but his arms had conveniently squeezed the air out of his partner so he had to pull back a little and that had given him the opportunity to look up and open his mouth and drag Watari down for a kiss. He also remembered that he was late that morning, for the first time in over a decade – not that anyone noticed, especially since he teleported directly into his office at 12:03pm. After all, his partner had been very thorough in showing him that a reconciliation could – almost – make a quarrel worthwhile.

~ *** ~

"Don't tell me – mid-year expense reports?"

Tatsumi nodded, not looking up from the ledger currently spread out on top of the myriad expense reports decorating the kitchen table. He was close to finishing the calculations, just had to type this into the … "Watari, have you seen my calculator?"

"I happened to find it on the living room floor just now."

He held out his hand, only sparing a glance at his partner when he did not feel the item in question being laid into his palm, "Watari-san!"

"You've got to ransom it."

"Price?"

"A kiss now and letting me take you out to dinner in … an hour and a half?"

"Deal," he felt the calculator in his hand, looking up for a quick peck. He did gasp and moan when Watari turned it into a leisurely exploration of every crevice in his mouth, but otherwise managed to keep his focus on the expense reports. Even though the first word he wrote on his written report sheet when he was let go was 'sex'. He ignored Watari's evil chuckle as he furiously erased the offending number and replaced it with 'six', knowing his partner would be smirking at him triumphantly over dinner once again.

He finished on time for their outing, grateful Watari had chosen a small restaurant around the block. He did not expect much conversation and they did spend most of the meal in silence – not that he was ungrateful for it, he could feel a headache coming on as it was. Still, over dessert (cheesecake with strawberries), his partner felt the need to talk, "So, are our accounts doing well?"

He was probably staring stupidly now. Watari just sighed, attempting to look long-suffering and patient and failing miserably on both accounts; Tatsumi supposed it was the twinkle in his eyes that said he was having fun.

"I'm just trying to show my interest for your work."

"I would rather think you are hoping I'll tell you how much funding you can expect in the next couple of months."

"Certainly not! What would I do if I couldn't nag you about it?" He smiled and laid his hand on top of Tatsumi's, "Seriously, though, I know I'm not much use when it comes to figures and that sort of thing, but perhaps you could explain a little about it to me – then you can tell me about your work and I'll not just space out in incomprehension."

"I don't want to bore you."

"You've listened to me rant about the benefits of solar energy in general and cars driven by solar power in particular, even though I've managed to throw tons of jargon in."

"That was interesting." Watari smiled, that knowing, almost-a-smirk type of smile Tatsumi had gotten used to by now. He did not think that any of his work was of interest to normal people – he did not find it particularly exciting himself most of the time. There was this sense of quiet pride and accomplishment when he had figured out a way to get closer to a perfect balance in the accounts, but it had nothing to do with liking the job.

"If you insist, I'll explain it to you, but not tonight. I'd much rather help you get the tangles out of your hair."

"Tangles? I tied my hair back today and…" He knew it was too much to hope that his attempts at humour or teasing would be understood on the spot – he was not known to do either and it was probably still a shock for his partner. Watari suddenly smiled radiantly, "You're evil; and a hedonist. But I'm feeling generous, so," he leaned forward slightly on the table, his fingers still entwined with Tatsumi's, "tell me just how you plan to get my hair tangled while we finish dessert."

~ *** ~

Watari's breath tickled his collarbone as he sighed, slumped heavily on his chest. Tatsumi's hands resumed their slow track through the wild locks, smoothing them gently. He was comfortable like this and he knew he wanted it to last. And not just for a while, but for as long as he held onto his after-life. Even though the idea of something so big was a bit daunting still. He closed his eyes for a moment, mentally returning to a night exactly one year ago. Tsuzuki-san's tired face, Kurosaki-kun's exhausted sobs as his shadows pulled them from the flames. The infirmary; sterile, white, and cold, despite Watari's best efforts to have plants standing around. He remembered the crooked, childish pictures, drawn by his partner with bright colours, placed haphazardly on the wall, seemingly out of place in the room, but making it cheerier all the same.

He had stayed until both Kurosaki and Tsuzuki had been seen to, leaving the room with Watari, hoping to be reassured they would both be alright. As soon as the door closed, the scientist turned to him, eyes flashing, grabbed his arm, dragged him along the corridor and into his lab. The tirade started as his back hit the closed door, "You infuriating, stupid, hopeless git! What did you think you were doing? Wasn't it bad enough that…" He could only remember a few words, the rest had just washed over him. Then there was a sudden quiet, though not for long, because he noticed ragged breath and Watari was there, eyes still flashing, looming against him.

The brutal reality of heated lips, a strong body pressed against his, and the total inability to move away still made him shiver with a fierce, guilty rush of lust. He would not have given in so easily, if Watari had not been so forceful, even though he had given him a chance to back out and an angry red mark on the juncture of neck and shoulder, feeling sinfully good as his blood pounded against his temples, his throat – he had been sold then.

Watari had dragged him to the back of the lab, flipping the lock as if on an afterthought, one hand busy on his pants, opening them just as he was pushed back on the futon. Moments later his tie was gone and the scientist straddled him, grabbing his wrists roughly, tying them together tightly and he could not even think of getting away, of power or shadows. He realized now, in hindsight, that he had needed someone's touch that night to chase away the thoughts threatening to overtake logic and calm reasoning and make him sick with fear, guilt, and shame.

But he had not been able to think, aroused, trousers at his ankles, mouth ravished by a man he had thought he knew for more than thirty years. Such passion and desire – and for him, of all people – even if he just needed to fuck someone, it had pleasantly surprised Tatsumi. Not that Watari had had many options (save for grabbing Terazuma-san or Wakaba-chan in the office the next morning), but still, it had been exciting to be needed and wanted like that, to belong to someone.

And he had belonged, had been stretched, his mind not even consciously registering the pain as much as the intrusion, the surrender; he had wondered briefly at the use of hand lotion and realized that Watari could not have planned it. And then the heat, the first push of his partner's cock inside him, so hard and just so much; it had hurt and he had not cared at all, just lifted his hips, registering pants and moans, sparkling amber eyes staring at him and just when he thought it could get neither better nor worse Watari had hit his prostrate and he had lost himself completely. He had felt his partner's release with a languid detachment, had merely closed his eyes as he was untied, his mind numb even as his body tingled with aftershocks and then … there had been nothing but blissful nothingness and deep, dreamless sleep.

He almost smiled at the memory, at the changes the past year had brought for him. It still surprised him some nights that he had someone to come home to; and he could not help feeling happy at the thought that Watari depended on him in many ways, that he was not the only one in the relationship with needs and desires to be taken care of. He did, of course, wonder sometimes what had brought their first encounter about. And this time he even asked, mainly because he could, "Why did you sleep with me, Watari?" His partner looked at him with a confused frown and he added, with a smile, "Not just now, I mean … that first time."

"Oh, hm. I don't really know, so many things. I was angry with you – you were getting so hung up on Tsuzuki and all, and then, you had that breakdown in front of me and Bon and, well, that was scary, you know."

"Scary?"

"I hadn't thought it was that bad; I knew you loved Tsuzuki and all, but your pain was so strong, hell, even I felt it and … then, I guess …when I had you pressed against that door, you just looked so … enticing, no, sexy, whatever – I just wanted to feel you, I didn't want you to walk out and leave me alone. And …"

"Yes?" He felt his partner's grip tighten around his shoulders as if he were afraid of his leaving, even now.

"I've never been good at keeping my lovers and I knew I was being stupid, because you loved Tsuzuki, but I just couldn't not try. I wanted someone to hold close for once. Though perhaps tying you up was a bit much."

"You know I enjoy being at your mercy." Watari's smile deepened and he sighed, wrapping himself completely around Tatsumi. Suddenly his head shot up, "I knew I'd forget – stay here, be right back!"

Tatsumi felt a certain twinge of … amusement as the other man scrambled off of him, tangling himself in the covers, jumping about to get them off and then rushed out the door. A loud squeaking hoot let him know he had most likely collided with 003 and the "Sorry, sorry, no, don't, I'm sooooorry!" that echoed through the apartment convinced him the little owl was definitely not pleased at all.

Watari finally returned, hair messed up worse than before, 003 on his head, pulling on a blonde strand that his partner was trying to hold with one hand even as he held out a small parcel to Tatsumi.

"Happy Anniversary!"

"You got me something?" He was thinking of how to apologize for not thinking of a present, even though he had not forgotten the day, when Watari wailed at him to get the small owl away from him – which he did, gently prising the tiny claws from the blonde locks and tapping 003's beak lightly till she let go. She took flight a moment later, scolding for a minute more before zooming out of the room.

"Ouch, she's worse than Bon when he's in a bad mood. I can't believe Tsuzuki doesn't mind."

"I'm certain there are … benefits to the relationship."

"You've got a dirty mind. Open the present already!" Yes, back to the matter at hand. He took a deep breath, looked at Watari, and was promptly tackled onto his back again, his partner settling on top of him. Grinning, he took the box out of Tatsumi's hands, holding it out to him so he could pull on the ribbon, the lid falling off as soon as it was gone. The content of the box rendered him speechless.

"I didn't get you…" was the first thing out of his mouth, but a finger against his lips made him stop. "Never mind… you have no idea what this is, do you?" Watari's patented smirk appeared as he shook his head, still uncomfortable about not getting his partner a present.

"Well, once you know what this is, you'll see that it's something that will," Watari's hand wrapped around his cock, "benefit both of us." He gasped, nodded, and waited. A small chuckle and his partner continued, "We've worn my old scarf out, I'm afraid. So I thought we'd be better off using these from now on," he pulled the fluffy, pink thing out of the box and dangled it in front of Tatsumi's eyes, "Say hello to your brand-new, padded handcuffs."

"Hello handcuffs," his voice was calm and serious as he raised his arms above his head. The stunned look on his partner's face was priceless, but it was nothing compared to the delighted laughter that followed. Tatsumi smiled, quite pleased with himself as he snuggled deeper into the pillows.

Finis.

Thanks for sticking around to read this fic, despite a) the smut, b) the plotless-ness, and c) the sugariness. Comments are much appreciated. Special thanks to the Yamifics and Tatari LJ communities for their support.

Endnotes:

Tatsumi and Watari both lived at times when AIDS was not an issue; furthermore, they are Shinigami and I seriously doubt they can contract STDs. Please don't forget condoms during sex. Better be safe than sorry: http://www.aids.org.

(1) In manga number 9 there's this wonderful scene where Watari-san and Tatsumi-san are alone in the office on a rainy day. Tatsumi-san has brought dumplings that Watari-san says are very good (003 loves them too). Tatsumi-san confesses he made them himself because they'd be too expensive if he bought them. I'll never get the image of the man cooking out of my head again.

(2) Johann Strauss (Son) lived from 1825-1899. Strauss' waltzes are my favourite type of classical music and I like the "Blue Danube" especially, always a highlight in the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra's New Year's Concert. I've been told that Tatsumi was probably born sometime between 1900 and the early 1930s, since he came to the division later than Tsuzuki (who seems to have been there since about 1930). I had originally assumed he was born a little earlier.

(3) The stanza is an extract from the poem "When You Are Old" by W. B. Yeats.

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

From: Weller, Shane ed. (1992): Great Love Poems. New York: Dover Publications Inc., 106-107.