Quirky

scribblemoose

"Here. Let me take your coat."

Tsuzuki gave a nervous smile as Tatsumi gently slipped his long coat from his shoulders. "Thank you, Tatsumi-san."

"I'll go and hang it up for you. Make yourself at home."

Tsuzuki cast his eyes around Tatsumi's apartment. It was every bit as immaculate as he'd expected. Decorated in soft, natural colours and fabrics; practical, tidy, intimidating...

And then Tsuzuki saw the rug.

His eyes went wide, and he'd gasped in surprise before he could stop himself.

"Are you alright, Tsuzuki?"

Tsuzuki started at the sudden reappearance of Tatsumi behind him. "Yes! I, um... it's just..."

Tatsumi gently turned Tsuzuki around to face him, his fingers sliding through Tsuzuki's untidy hair in a way that made him feel unaccountably warm and safe. "Just?" he said, with the kind smile that made Tsuzuki weak at the knees.

"I didn't, um, expect the, um... pink thing," said Tsuzuki, wishing he didn't sound so feeble and stupid.

"Ah. The rug."

"Yes. Not that there's anything wrong with it," Tsuzuki added hastily. "It's just... not, well, what I expected. From you."

"It was an accident," said Tatsumi, as if that explained everything.

"Ah," said Tsuzuki. As if he understood.

"It's very soft," said Tatsumi, and a different kind of smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. One that made Tsuzuki feel weak all over.

They were standing very close to each other now, and it was a simple matter to slide his arms around Tatsumi's waist, fingers brushing over crisp white cotton to settle in the small of his back. Tatsumi's lips touched his in the gentlest kiss Tsuzuki could ever remember receiving; careful, soft and considerate. It made him tingle in a way he hadn't tingled for a very, very long time.

He heard himself make an odd little noise of regret when Tatsumi took his mouth away, clutching convulsively at his handful of shirt to make sure the other man didn't escape any further.

"We could sit down," Tatsumi suggested.

"Mmm," Tsuzuki agreed, but neither of them moved. This time it was Tsuzuki who started the kiss, the tingle turned to an itch. Tatsumi's kisses were obviously highly addictive. He boldly slipped his tongue into Tatsumi's mouth, exploring with little darting movements, Tatsumi's tongue quivering in response. Tatsumi's mouth was warm and wet and tasted of the strawberry fruit drops he didn't like people to know he kept in his desk drawer.

"Tatsumi..."

"Seiichirou," said Tatsumi, gently. "You can call me Seiichirou."

"Seiichirou," said Tsuzuki, with a little smile. It felt awkward, so Tsuzuki went back to the kissing. It was easier, somehow, to be intimate with bodies, than with words.

And Tsuzuki's body was telling him exactly how intimate it would like to be with Tatsumi's, in no uncertain terms. And in a way that Tatsumi was sure to notice. It was with some relief that Tsuzuki noticed the hard ridge of flesh that pressed into him when he pulled Tatsumi close. A reassuring sign that this gift, this thing he'd wanted for so very long and never thought he'd deserve, was real.

"Tsuzuki..."

"Asato."

"As..ato..." Tatsumi was distinctly out of breath, Tsuzuki noticed, and there was no disguising the heat in his eyes. "Would you like to find out how soft that rug really is?"

Tsuzuki grinned. "Yes," he said. "Please, yes."

Tatsumi led him to the impossibly pink floor covering, laid out neatly in front of the fireplace. There was no fire, of course, but the grate was decorated with a bowl filled with water and the prettiest pebbles Tsuzuki had ever seen. They knelt on the rug, facing each other, and then Tatsumi was kissing him again, deftly unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it over his shoulders, bending him gently backwards until he was lying down, Tatsumi at his side, close, so close he could feel the steady thump of the other man's heart against his own ribs.

He whimpered into Tatsumi's hair as knowing fingers teased already stiff nipples, stroked slowly across his chest and down to his belly, pausing there, palm flat over his navel.

"Is this alright?" Tatsumi asked, and Tsuzuki's eyes fluttered open to meet his, surprised to see concern on Tatsumi's lovely face.

"Oh yes," he said, eagerly; so eagerly that Tatsumi gave a little laugh, the worry fading.

"You're trembling," he explained. "I don't want to hurt you. We won't do anything unless you want it."

"I'm fine," said Tsuzuki, and rubbed Tatsumi's nose softly with his own. "Are you okay?"

Tatsumi just smiled at him.

Tsuzuki cupped a hand behind his neck and drew him down to kiss; definitely addictive, these kisses of his. He felt Tatsumi's steady hands exploring his body, smoothing down his side to clasp his hip for a few moments before drifting across his groin and settling inevitably on the hard ridge of his cock. Tsuzuki gasped; his eyes flew open and his back arched. Tatsumi's fingers were sure and knowing, and it was all Tsuzuki could do to keep from coming messily in his pants. He didn't want that; he wanted it to be perfect and graceful and, and, oh, but Tatsumi had opened his fly and those clever fingers were reaching inside, and Tatsumi's lips had left his and were kissing a line of fire down his body, from his throat to his breastbone to his belly and oh... oh... oh...

Tatsumi's tongue touched the tip of his cock, licking up the wetness that pooled there, sweeping down the length and up again, withdrawing for a moment as if he was about to...

"No," Tsuzuki squeaked. "Please... not yet."

Tatsumi looked up at him, blue eyes twinkling through his glasses. "But you taste so sweet," he said.

Tsuzuki groaned. He tugged at Tatsumi's shirt. "Together. Want to... together."

Tatsumi obediently returned to Tsuzuki's side, although his hand remained inside Tsuzuki's pants, wrapped around Tsuzuki's cock as if he never intended to let go.

Which, considering how extraordinarily good it felt, was an inconvenience Tsuzuki decided he could live with.

Tsuzuki set about undoing buttons and loosening Tatsumi's tie, but found his impatience overcame him before he got to any proper undressing. He nuzzled beneath the white cotton of Tatsumi's shirt to lick his heated skin, teased and nibbled the hard bud of one nipple, brushing the other with trembling fingers. Managed somehow to undo the snap and zip of Tatsumi's perfectly fitted trousers, and fumble his way inside.

Tatsumi's cock nestled into his palm as if it belonged there, hot and impossibly hard.

Perfect and graceful might have to wait, Tsuzuki realised, as he began steadily to thrust into Tastumi's hand, stroking Tatsumi's cock with the same rhythm. He found the warm security of Tatsumi's mouth with his own, and they kissed deep and long and with all the desperation that had been locked in Tsuzuki's heart for decades. Everything faded from his senses except for the taste of Tatsumi's mouth, fruit-sweet and delicious; the soft fur caressing his back, and the steady rhythm of their pleasure.

He fought it as long as he could, but in only a few precious minutes he felt his body tense. Tatsumi must have felt it too because he scooted down, engulfing Tsuzuki's cock with his mouth in the very last moment. His world suddenly nothing but warm wet and glorious, Tsuzuki came helplessly, spurting again and again onto Tatsumi's waiting tongue, fingers twined in soft brown hair.

The instant he regained any kind of control over his twitching limbs, Tsuzuki turned and tugged Tatsumi's flexing hips towards him, catching eager flesh between his lips just in time. His own body was still shuddering as he tasted Tatsumi's pleasure, and it didn't stop, not until Tatsumi's thrusts had slowed to a gentle pulse and his mouth was full.

Tatsumi gathered Tsuzuki up in strong arms and held him; kissed him again, manly flavours mingling in their mouths.

He felt so peaceful: the world was warm and soft and pink, and Tatsumi loved him.

Tatsumi loved him.

"Seiichirou," he murmured with a smile, his nose burrowing into Tatsumi's neck, every bit as soft as the rug beneath them.

"Asato," whispered Tatsumi.

It felt like home.

This is a gift for Penny Paperbrain.

Illustration by PL Nunn

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