[FB] A Little Stress Relief - chapter 4
Dec. 31st, 2005 10:48 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
meiface.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
chineseink[A Little Stress Relief]
[A Kyo/Yuki Fruits Basket fic]
[R to NC-17]
[Table of Contents]
Warnings: boy x boy, explicit content, incest (of a sort)
Disclaimer: I don't own and never will own the rights to Fruits Basket; I write not for profit but only to entertain my personal muses. Oh, and ANIMEVERSE.
Notes: Previously posted on Fanfiction.net, but it was removed due to content. Also seen at Kyouke. If you wish to archive, feel free. Just let me know. :D
Feedback would be great~
A LITTLE STRESS RELIEF
by Ryuuza/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
meitachi
/ chapter 4 yume nara samenai de /
It felt different.
The hands sliding over his skin, the lips attacking his mouth, the tongue tangling with his. Different.
There was a strange, unfamiliar sort of…possessiveness about it.
Kyo had never been possessive before.
Yuki’s thoughts flitted in and out of coherency as he and Kyo lay entangled on the floor, panting, wrestling, battling each other for dominance. Despite the desperate actions of his body, Yuki’s mind felt detached, behind a sort of haze, and it felt like he was observing from a distance.
Sweaty bodies and hot, slick, bare skin. Harsh breaths. Moans. Fingers that dipped and teased and twisted unrelentingly. Pleasure that bordered on the edge of pain, pleasure that drew them out of themselves, their personas, to places where it didn’t matter anymore. Where the cat and the mouse didn’t have to fight.
It really shouldn’t be any different, Yuki mused to himself, dreamlike, as he rubbed his hips against the redhead’s, eliciting a soft growl.
They were just doing what they always did.
Kyo retaliated with a sharp twist of Yuki’s nipple, and Yuki gasped. With a satisfied air, Kyo attached his mouth to his cousin’s throat and sucked.
Dimly, Yuki thought to himself that the action would leave a mark. A sign of possession.
He slid his hands around Kyo, tugging him closer, breathing his scent, not needing him, not really, only the heat and the desperation and the ecstasy. Anyone would’ve done. Not just Kyo. He shut his eyes, a small keening sound escaping his throat as the cat slid his hand between Yuki’s legs.
“Ah-!”
It was just stress relief. Nothing more. Just what they always did.
The bamboo mat scratched his back, but the pain didn’t register with Yuki, whose senses were alight with the fire ignited by Kyo’s hand, so knowledgeable, so sure. He arched his back, pressing himself closer, needing more contact, more friction, more…more everything.
But it wasn’t the same.
Kyo’s hot breaths fell on his sweat-dampened skin. His hands clutched Kyo’s shoulders desperately, shaking, shuddering, so close… And Kyo continued to pant one word, a soft hiss that escaped between his labored breaths, his eyes fierce as he moved his hand up and down.
Yuki’s head was tossed back, mind divorced from his thoughts, he didn’t need to think now; couldn’t. Couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe—but oh— All his attention was focused on the pleasure coursing through his veins, the burning that all originated at his groin.
It was the same pleasure, maybe more intense, the same fierce need and fast pace and rough hands… But it was different.
It was an indication of ownership, a demonstration of possession, it was Kyo marking his territory.
Kyo, who punctuated every kiss, every caress, with a softly panted, “Mine.”
--
Yuki lay bare in the night air. His flushed skin was cooling slowly as the dark settled upon his body, as comfortable as a lover. Languidly, the silver-haired Souma turned his head to study the golden-skinned boy who lay curled next to him.
Violet eyes trailed thoughtfully over damp locks of orange hair, glow diffused in the shadows, and golden lashes that swept flushed cheeks. Those flashing crimson eyes were hidden now, but Yuki recalled them with a startling accuracy.
He turned away.
It unnerved him. Tonight. The touches and the heat and the fierceness. But mostly, the whispers.
The words. “Mine,” he’d claimed, between kisses, “mine, mine, mine…”
Yuki had never wanted to belong to Kyo. He’d never wanted to belong to anyone, much less his stupid cousin, the one who always challenged him, hated him, the reckless one who was so loud, so obnoxious, so good at making Tohru smile. Souma Yuki did not belong to anyone.
His fingers traced lightly over the bamboo mat beneath him. They should get dressed, he knew, and return to their rooms. But Hatsuharu was in his. And he was too lazy to move.
Disquieted. That’s what tonight made him.
All throughout Tohru’s party, he’d done his best to ignore the stupid cat. He hadn’t wanted to ruin Honda-san’s birthday. Valiantly, he’d refrained from commenting on Kyo’s stupid behavior or tendency to boast and instead focused on scrupulously avoiding contact with Saki-san or Arisa-san and avoiding Ayame in general. Things had been fine. The other boy had even been behaving himself as well. But in the middle of one game of Dai Hin Min…
Well, nothing had happened, really, but Yuki had sensed a change. It had been right after Black Haru had appeared and had threatened Kyo.
He wished he knew what it was.
Because then…then had come Haru’s advances, and Kyo’s hypocritical comments, and then Haru had left and it’d been them, alone again.
Yuki closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the cool air surrounding him, except to his left side, where the chilliness was dispelled by the warmth of Kyo’s body.
Why had it been different tonight?
Why had Kyo claimed possession?
They weren’t in the type of relationship where emotions were involved. It was less complicated this way, and that’s what Yuki had believed both he and Kyo wanted. They didn’t like each other. They were rivals, enemies, the cat and the rat, the same as always. They just needed each other for physical release.
Jealousy shouldn’t come into play.
He paused, hand that had been stroking the bamboo stilling. Was that what Kyo was? Jealous?
Jealous of Haru?
Was that what had triggered the need to possess Yuki, to prove that Yuki was his, to lay claim on the violet-eyed Souma?
Jealousy?
Yuki’s eyes fluttered open again. He shifted on his side and turned to look at the sleeping boy beside him, chest rising and falling in the even, deep breaths of slumber. Could he, the reckless, foolhardy, stubborn cat that made it his life mission to irritate Yuki, could he really be jealous?
It scared Yuki. The possibility frightened him to the depths of his being. Not just because Kyo being jealous would indicate an emotional entanglement on his part, but also because if there was emotion, actual feeling, involved in this…relationship (whatever it was), Yuki wouldn’t know what to do.
He was familiar with stress relief. He could handle it, could handle needing someone to relieve his tension. But Souma Yuki had never needed anyone emotionally. He’d never needed anyone to depend on. He wouldn’t know what to do if he did.
He didn’t want Kyo to be emotionally involved. He didn’t want to be emotionally involved.
Sliding silently across the mat, Yuki gently slipped his arms around the other boy’s bare body. He tucked his head in the crook of his neck, feeling Kyo’s heart beat against his, his breath stirring his hair. Yuki slid a leg between Kyo’s and shifted to align their bodies better.
He didn’t want to think anymore. He didn’t want to consider all the frightening possibilities tonight had triggered. All he needed was warmth and Kyo would provide that. Their relationship-whatever-it-was would continue on as it had been.
Stress relief.
Yuki tightened his hold on his cousin’s body briefly.
It was physical. Only physical.
As he eased the troubling thoughts from his mind, Yuki was careful to focus only on the physical aspect of the dream (relationship-whatever-it-was) that he and Kyo had created. There was nothing more there, could be nothing more there, and if he closed his eyes and refused to see, who could tell him that there was a possibility of more?
He didn’t have to wake up…
--
He remembered their first time. He’d come downstairs, frustrated with his schoolwork, and seeking a break and a drink of water. For his stress, he’d found Kyo instead.
Yuki was not as cool and collected as most of his classmates believed. He was often borderline depressed and far too tense to be healthy. But what could one expect when one suffered the jyuuenshi? How could being constantly fawned over by people who had the power to turn you into a rat, besides exposing your secret and set about ruining your life (Akito would do the rest), not make you tense?
Add to that the duties of student council, the responsibility of keeping up good grades, of appearing normal, of trying to make friends yet shying away from opportunities… Of course Yuki was stressed.
It had never culminated though, because Souma Yuki couldn’t have a breakdown, could he? Naturally not. He was to be perfect. He couldn’t ruin that image.
He gardened a lot. It calmed him to not be responsible for himself for a while, to be responsible instead for little seedlings and flowering plants. It was easier that way.
But when Honda Tohru had stumbled into his life, and Kyo returning soon after her, Yuki’s life had once more been thrown into uproar. Still, after a few months, he’d made the eventual adjustment. He’d gotten used to Honda-san’s enthusiastic greetings and occasional accidental embrace and the ensuing transformation. He’d gotten used to making a habit of beating the stupid cat whenever Kyo was feeling particularly feisty.
As time passed, he’d even gotten used to his reluctant attraction to Kyo.
His boundless energy, his fierce passion for his beliefs, his flashing eyes and the rare smile, often tinted with wicked mischief or more likely enjoyment over Yuki’s misfortune, and the even rarer laugh. His lithe, athletic body, honed to near perfection after months and years of training, the unconsciously graceful way he moved, and even the husk of his voice, usually deepened to a growl whenever he was around his cousin…
Yuki, despite himself, had found it all undeniably appealing.
Oh, he’d still disliked the idiot, there was no getting around that. But he’d found that he wanted him nevertheless. Wanted that energy to be diverted to a cause other than fighting him, wanted those eyes to be flashing for another reason, wanted that passion, that body, that voice…all for him.
He’d been particularly upset that night, after a stressful day of student council meetings, two near-embraces from overenthusiastic fans, and a long lesson on ancient Japanese poetry that he’d missed the majority of because he’d been suffering a splitting headache. He’d been thankful that Shigure and Honda-san were both out of the house that evening, and Kyo had seemed willing to be silent (if hostilely) downstairs, while he attempted his homework up in his room.
Unfortunately, long passages deciphering the meanings behind three lines of haiku had brought his headache round again and Yuki had, in frustration, left his studies in hopes that a break would chase away his headache. Or a glass of water, if not the break.
Downstairs, though, he’d encountered Kyo, glaring and scowling as usual, but decidedly embarrassed about something. Yuki had taken it upon himself to discover what—and it wasn’t that hard, considering. The other boy had been reading a yaoi manga. The other boy had babbled something incoherent when Yuki had taunted him, but Yuki had been distracted by a far more interesting realization.
Kyo had been hard.
And before he could fully process this information and choose the best course of action, Yuki had let his frustration and his stress (and very possibly his attraction to the damn cat) take over, and before he’d known it, he was straddling the redhead, pinning him to the floor. And then it’d all been mouth and hands and heat—all things that grew familiar to him in the following months.
But then, that night, he’d been desperate. And then shocked when he’d realized that Kyo had been kissing back, tongue searching, hands questing, and his mind had numbed over, headache far gone.
Sure, Yuki remembered their first time. He remembered every time after too. Disturbingly clearly, if he thought about it now…
But he wasn’t thinking, right? He’d given up on that.
--
“Tell me a secret,” Yuki whispered, head still burrowed in the crook between the other boy’s neck and shoulder.
Kyo stared up into the gray shadows that were gradually being chased away by the approaching dawn. He couldn’t believe they’d spent the entire night down here. He couldn’t believe he’d claimed Yuki as his last night. He couldn’t believe Yuki was asking him something so personal. Something people asked when they wanted to get to know someone better.
But he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to get to know me better. I don’t want to know him better either.
“I tried to ignore you last night,” Kyo said, hands stroking Yuki’s back idly.
“Me too.”
“But I couldn’t. After Haru yelled at me about hitting Momiji, and you told us to shut up, I just looked at you… And I wanted you.”
Yuki levered himself off Kyo’s chest. He stared down into those darkened eyes, vulnerable, like he’d never seen them.
“I was hard the rest of the night. No one noticed.”
The pale-haired Souma sat up abruptly. He opened his mouth, but whatever words he was going to utter failed him, and he subsided. At long last, he said in neutral tones, “We should get dressed. They’ll be awake soon.”
Kyo continued to lie on the floor, eyes trained not on his cousin but on the ceiling. He and Yuki had never spent an entire night together before. It had always been quick-and-go. Although he supposed one could argue they had no where to go last night, since Hatsuharu was unfortunately occupying Yuki’s bed. Still, it unnerved Kyo. He didn’t know what to make of it. He also didn’t know what to make of his own actions last night.
What had he been thinking, to call Yuki his?
He didn’t even like the damned rat.
His eyes strayed to where the other boy was pulling on his clothes, movements agile and graceful, fitting to that slim body. Fine, if slightly sweat-sticked, hair fell over those perfect features that had half the school (the female half) all aflutter.
Kyo twitched and sat up. As always, just the thought of all the attention his cousin reveled in was enough to raise his hackles. Yuki, Yuki, Yuki, he thought spitefully. It was always about Yuki.
As he resumed his usual scowl at the rat and began scrounging about for his haphazardly discarded clothes, the thought that Yuki had never really reveled in any of the attention he received flitted through Kyo’s mind.
He dismissed it.
After all, if he didn’t have his ever-present disgust and dislike of the rat, what did he have?
-
-
-
| jyuuenshi - zodiac curse |
Chapter title "yume nara samenai de" translates to "if it's a dream, don't wake up"
[A Kyo/Yuki Fruits Basket fic]
[R to NC-17]
[Table of Contents]
Warnings: boy x boy, explicit content, incest (of a sort)
Disclaimer: I don't own and never will own the rights to Fruits Basket; I write not for profit but only to entertain my personal muses. Oh, and ANIMEVERSE.
Notes: Previously posted on Fanfiction.net, but it was removed due to content. Also seen at Kyouke. If you wish to archive, feel free. Just let me know. :D
Feedback would be great~
A LITTLE STRESS RELIEF
by Ryuuza/
meitachi/ chapter 4 yume nara samenai de /
It felt different.
The hands sliding over his skin, the lips attacking his mouth, the tongue tangling with his. Different.
There was a strange, unfamiliar sort of…possessiveness about it.
Kyo had never been possessive before.
Yuki’s thoughts flitted in and out of coherency as he and Kyo lay entangled on the floor, panting, wrestling, battling each other for dominance. Despite the desperate actions of his body, Yuki’s mind felt detached, behind a sort of haze, and it felt like he was observing from a distance.
Sweaty bodies and hot, slick, bare skin. Harsh breaths. Moans. Fingers that dipped and teased and twisted unrelentingly. Pleasure that bordered on the edge of pain, pleasure that drew them out of themselves, their personas, to places where it didn’t matter anymore. Where the cat and the mouse didn’t have to fight.
It really shouldn’t be any different, Yuki mused to himself, dreamlike, as he rubbed his hips against the redhead’s, eliciting a soft growl.
They were just doing what they always did.
Kyo retaliated with a sharp twist of Yuki’s nipple, and Yuki gasped. With a satisfied air, Kyo attached his mouth to his cousin’s throat and sucked.
Dimly, Yuki thought to himself that the action would leave a mark. A sign of possession.
He slid his hands around Kyo, tugging him closer, breathing his scent, not needing him, not really, only the heat and the desperation and the ecstasy. Anyone would’ve done. Not just Kyo. He shut his eyes, a small keening sound escaping his throat as the cat slid his hand between Yuki’s legs.
“Ah-!”
It was just stress relief. Nothing more. Just what they always did.
The bamboo mat scratched his back, but the pain didn’t register with Yuki, whose senses were alight with the fire ignited by Kyo’s hand, so knowledgeable, so sure. He arched his back, pressing himself closer, needing more contact, more friction, more…more everything.
But it wasn’t the same.
Kyo’s hot breaths fell on his sweat-dampened skin. His hands clutched Kyo’s shoulders desperately, shaking, shuddering, so close… And Kyo continued to pant one word, a soft hiss that escaped between his labored breaths, his eyes fierce as he moved his hand up and down.
Yuki’s head was tossed back, mind divorced from his thoughts, he didn’t need to think now; couldn’t. Couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe—but oh— All his attention was focused on the pleasure coursing through his veins, the burning that all originated at his groin.
It was the same pleasure, maybe more intense, the same fierce need and fast pace and rough hands… But it was different.
It was an indication of ownership, a demonstration of possession, it was Kyo marking his territory.
Kyo, who punctuated every kiss, every caress, with a softly panted, “Mine.”
--
Yuki lay bare in the night air. His flushed skin was cooling slowly as the dark settled upon his body, as comfortable as a lover. Languidly, the silver-haired Souma turned his head to study the golden-skinned boy who lay curled next to him.
Violet eyes trailed thoughtfully over damp locks of orange hair, glow diffused in the shadows, and golden lashes that swept flushed cheeks. Those flashing crimson eyes were hidden now, but Yuki recalled them with a startling accuracy.
He turned away.
It unnerved him. Tonight. The touches and the heat and the fierceness. But mostly, the whispers.
The words. “Mine,” he’d claimed, between kisses, “mine, mine, mine…”
Yuki had never wanted to belong to Kyo. He’d never wanted to belong to anyone, much less his stupid cousin, the one who always challenged him, hated him, the reckless one who was so loud, so obnoxious, so good at making Tohru smile. Souma Yuki did not belong to anyone.
His fingers traced lightly over the bamboo mat beneath him. They should get dressed, he knew, and return to their rooms. But Hatsuharu was in his. And he was too lazy to move.
Disquieted. That’s what tonight made him.
All throughout Tohru’s party, he’d done his best to ignore the stupid cat. He hadn’t wanted to ruin Honda-san’s birthday. Valiantly, he’d refrained from commenting on Kyo’s stupid behavior or tendency to boast and instead focused on scrupulously avoiding contact with Saki-san or Arisa-san and avoiding Ayame in general. Things had been fine. The other boy had even been behaving himself as well. But in the middle of one game of Dai Hin Min…
Well, nothing had happened, really, but Yuki had sensed a change. It had been right after Black Haru had appeared and had threatened Kyo.
He wished he knew what it was.
Because then…then had come Haru’s advances, and Kyo’s hypocritical comments, and then Haru had left and it’d been them, alone again.
Yuki closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the cool air surrounding him, except to his left side, where the chilliness was dispelled by the warmth of Kyo’s body.
Why had it been different tonight?
Why had Kyo claimed possession?
They weren’t in the type of relationship where emotions were involved. It was less complicated this way, and that’s what Yuki had believed both he and Kyo wanted. They didn’t like each other. They were rivals, enemies, the cat and the rat, the same as always. They just needed each other for physical release.
Jealousy shouldn’t come into play.
He paused, hand that had been stroking the bamboo stilling. Was that what Kyo was? Jealous?
Jealous of Haru?
Was that what had triggered the need to possess Yuki, to prove that Yuki was his, to lay claim on the violet-eyed Souma?
Jealousy?
Yuki’s eyes fluttered open again. He shifted on his side and turned to look at the sleeping boy beside him, chest rising and falling in the even, deep breaths of slumber. Could he, the reckless, foolhardy, stubborn cat that made it his life mission to irritate Yuki, could he really be jealous?
It scared Yuki. The possibility frightened him to the depths of his being. Not just because Kyo being jealous would indicate an emotional entanglement on his part, but also because if there was emotion, actual feeling, involved in this…relationship (whatever it was), Yuki wouldn’t know what to do.
He was familiar with stress relief. He could handle it, could handle needing someone to relieve his tension. But Souma Yuki had never needed anyone emotionally. He’d never needed anyone to depend on. He wouldn’t know what to do if he did.
He didn’t want Kyo to be emotionally involved. He didn’t want to be emotionally involved.
Sliding silently across the mat, Yuki gently slipped his arms around the other boy’s bare body. He tucked his head in the crook of his neck, feeling Kyo’s heart beat against his, his breath stirring his hair. Yuki slid a leg between Kyo’s and shifted to align their bodies better.
He didn’t want to think anymore. He didn’t want to consider all the frightening possibilities tonight had triggered. All he needed was warmth and Kyo would provide that. Their relationship-whatever-it-was would continue on as it had been.
Stress relief.
Yuki tightened his hold on his cousin’s body briefly.
It was physical. Only physical.
As he eased the troubling thoughts from his mind, Yuki was careful to focus only on the physical aspect of the dream (relationship-whatever-it-was) that he and Kyo had created. There was nothing more there, could be nothing more there, and if he closed his eyes and refused to see, who could tell him that there was a possibility of more?
He didn’t have to wake up…
--
He remembered their first time. He’d come downstairs, frustrated with his schoolwork, and seeking a break and a drink of water. For his stress, he’d found Kyo instead.
Yuki was not as cool and collected as most of his classmates believed. He was often borderline depressed and far too tense to be healthy. But what could one expect when one suffered the jyuuenshi? How could being constantly fawned over by people who had the power to turn you into a rat, besides exposing your secret and set about ruining your life (Akito would do the rest), not make you tense?
Add to that the duties of student council, the responsibility of keeping up good grades, of appearing normal, of trying to make friends yet shying away from opportunities… Of course Yuki was stressed.
It had never culminated though, because Souma Yuki couldn’t have a breakdown, could he? Naturally not. He was to be perfect. He couldn’t ruin that image.
He gardened a lot. It calmed him to not be responsible for himself for a while, to be responsible instead for little seedlings and flowering plants. It was easier that way.
But when Honda Tohru had stumbled into his life, and Kyo returning soon after her, Yuki’s life had once more been thrown into uproar. Still, after a few months, he’d made the eventual adjustment. He’d gotten used to Honda-san’s enthusiastic greetings and occasional accidental embrace and the ensuing transformation. He’d gotten used to making a habit of beating the stupid cat whenever Kyo was feeling particularly feisty.
As time passed, he’d even gotten used to his reluctant attraction to Kyo.
His boundless energy, his fierce passion for his beliefs, his flashing eyes and the rare smile, often tinted with wicked mischief or more likely enjoyment over Yuki’s misfortune, and the even rarer laugh. His lithe, athletic body, honed to near perfection after months and years of training, the unconsciously graceful way he moved, and even the husk of his voice, usually deepened to a growl whenever he was around his cousin…
Yuki, despite himself, had found it all undeniably appealing.
Oh, he’d still disliked the idiot, there was no getting around that. But he’d found that he wanted him nevertheless. Wanted that energy to be diverted to a cause other than fighting him, wanted those eyes to be flashing for another reason, wanted that passion, that body, that voice…all for him.
He’d been particularly upset that night, after a stressful day of student council meetings, two near-embraces from overenthusiastic fans, and a long lesson on ancient Japanese poetry that he’d missed the majority of because he’d been suffering a splitting headache. He’d been thankful that Shigure and Honda-san were both out of the house that evening, and Kyo had seemed willing to be silent (if hostilely) downstairs, while he attempted his homework up in his room.
Unfortunately, long passages deciphering the meanings behind three lines of haiku had brought his headache round again and Yuki had, in frustration, left his studies in hopes that a break would chase away his headache. Or a glass of water, if not the break.
Downstairs, though, he’d encountered Kyo, glaring and scowling as usual, but decidedly embarrassed about something. Yuki had taken it upon himself to discover what—and it wasn’t that hard, considering. The other boy had been reading a yaoi manga. The other boy had babbled something incoherent when Yuki had taunted him, but Yuki had been distracted by a far more interesting realization.
Kyo had been hard.
And before he could fully process this information and choose the best course of action, Yuki had let his frustration and his stress (and very possibly his attraction to the damn cat) take over, and before he’d known it, he was straddling the redhead, pinning him to the floor. And then it’d all been mouth and hands and heat—all things that grew familiar to him in the following months.
But then, that night, he’d been desperate. And then shocked when he’d realized that Kyo had been kissing back, tongue searching, hands questing, and his mind had numbed over, headache far gone.
Sure, Yuki remembered their first time. He remembered every time after too. Disturbingly clearly, if he thought about it now…
But he wasn’t thinking, right? He’d given up on that.
--
“Tell me a secret,” Yuki whispered, head still burrowed in the crook between the other boy’s neck and shoulder.
Kyo stared up into the gray shadows that were gradually being chased away by the approaching dawn. He couldn’t believe they’d spent the entire night down here. He couldn’t believe he’d claimed Yuki as his last night. He couldn’t believe Yuki was asking him something so personal. Something people asked when they wanted to get to know someone better.
But he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to get to know me better. I don’t want to know him better either.
“I tried to ignore you last night,” Kyo said, hands stroking Yuki’s back idly.
“Me too.”
“But I couldn’t. After Haru yelled at me about hitting Momiji, and you told us to shut up, I just looked at you… And I wanted you.”
Yuki levered himself off Kyo’s chest. He stared down into those darkened eyes, vulnerable, like he’d never seen them.
“I was hard the rest of the night. No one noticed.”
The pale-haired Souma sat up abruptly. He opened his mouth, but whatever words he was going to utter failed him, and he subsided. At long last, he said in neutral tones, “We should get dressed. They’ll be awake soon.”
Kyo continued to lie on the floor, eyes trained not on his cousin but on the ceiling. He and Yuki had never spent an entire night together before. It had always been quick-and-go. Although he supposed one could argue they had no where to go last night, since Hatsuharu was unfortunately occupying Yuki’s bed. Still, it unnerved Kyo. He didn’t know what to make of it. He also didn’t know what to make of his own actions last night.
What had he been thinking, to call Yuki his?
He didn’t even like the damned rat.
His eyes strayed to where the other boy was pulling on his clothes, movements agile and graceful, fitting to that slim body. Fine, if slightly sweat-sticked, hair fell over those perfect features that had half the school (the female half) all aflutter.
Kyo twitched and sat up. As always, just the thought of all the attention his cousin reveled in was enough to raise his hackles. Yuki, Yuki, Yuki, he thought spitefully. It was always about Yuki.
As he resumed his usual scowl at the rat and began scrounging about for his haphazardly discarded clothes, the thought that Yuki had never really reveled in any of the attention he received flitted through Kyo’s mind.
He dismissed it.
After all, if he didn’t have his ever-present disgust and dislike of the rat, what did he have?
-
-
-
| jyuuenshi - zodiac curse |
Chapter title "yume nara samenai de" translates to "if it's a dream, don't wake up"
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