bakerstreet | The IC Anon Questions Meme!

Come now. It hasn't been that long, has it?

And to what do I owe the honor of this visitation?

A few years, give or take.

Credit boredom for random interrogation. Maybe curiosity. ...and a little something else.

Mmm. Well, you flatter me with your presence.

[ Koujaku isn't sure how to feel; it really has been quite a while since he'd seen the "other" Aoba face-to-face. He's on edge, certainly, but he can't deny that some small part of him is intrigued. ]

"Something else?" Enlighten me.

Try not to let your enthusiasm get out of control. I might not be able to stand it.

[ He doesn't bother to mask his sarcasm when Koujaku's dislike for him is blatantly obvious. Not that it'll stop Aoba from invading his personal space, hand trailing over his collarbone. ]

Forgotten our conversation already, have you? A haircut. Special service included.

[ Koujaku doesn't flinch away from the touch, but it definitely leaves him conflicted. This isn't "his" Aoba, that much is certain. But he still is Aoba, and who is Koujaku if he doesn't love Aoba in all of his forms?

He doesn't bother masking the pained look that flickers across his features. ]

It would be my pleasure to cut your hair. We can negotiate the terms of any addons while I do so.

My hair or his?

[ Aoba threads his fingers through Koujaku's ponytail and gives it a short, sharp tug. To be scorned by both 'Reason' and 'Restraint' is painful enough- he doesn't need their oldest friend despising him too. Not that he expects much else by this point. Might as well enjoy himself no matter how it turns out.

A grin that can only called lewd replaces his scowl as he tugs Koujaku closer by the hair, brushing their lips together. ]

Hmph, it doesn't matter. You're stuck with me for now. So tell me... Any particular terms you have in mind?

[ Koujaku makes a small, nearly imperceptible noise as Aoba jerks him forward, not resisting though he could do so fairly easily. He doesn't bother answering his taunt, instead averting his eyes. ]

It would seem that you have a few terms in mind yourself. Why don't you tell me and we can go from there? [ His tone is hard, and he brings a hand up to entangle his fingers with those in his hair. His grip is far from forceful as he gently takes the hand within his own, and he makes no attempt to put any distance between himself and the man before him. ]

[ Aoba reflexively squeezes the scarred hand for a brief moment, eyes narrowing as he spares a glance at their intertwined fingers. The wary look twists into bitterness when Koujaku doesn't meet his gaze, and he splays his free hand across the tattooed half of his chest. ]

For starters you can quit treating me like the monsterous kidnapper of your precious Aoba. After that- [ With a quick snap his teeth sink down on Koujaku's lower lip and stop just shy of drawing blood while his nails echo the sentiment. ] -my terms are simple. In exchange for cutting my hair, I want what's mine. I want you.

[ Aoba's words wound him, though he can't really understand why. This... is Aoba, isn't it? He slides his gaze to the other, the corners of his eyes softening. He doesn't quite smile, though he gives the hand in his own a light squeeze.

When Aoba bites him, he hisses, though he manages to snake his free arm about the other man's waist. Yes, this is Aoba. The parts of Aoba that rarely get to see the sunlight, the parts that Aoba keeps hidden. Koujaku would be a hypocrite and a liar if he were to reject him now.

Destruction personified or no, Koujaku loves him. Hopelessly. Endlessly. He isn't sure how long he has, just that he does, and there isn't any discernible sign of him stopping. ]

Aoba... [ Koujaku sucks in a breath as Aoba's nails dig into his chest, closing his eyes as he draws the other nearer. ] I'm sorry. [ He buries his face in the other's hair, planting a soft kiss to the crown of Aoba's head. ] The haircut can wait if you like. It's purely for my own selfishness, anyway.

[ Caught in Koujaku's arms, his entire body seizes up, torn between lashing out and fleeing. It's pathetic when his friend is giving what he's always craved: acceptance, if not his love. Yet the desire to recede back into the familiar depths of Aoba's consciousness goes straight to his fingertips curled in on his palm with force that leaves the knuckles white.

Talk to him, 'Reason' urges. They both know the whole world could condemn them for having broken peoples' minds and left them for dead, and Koujaku would still stand there by their side. Such a stupid... ]

...asshole. [ The apology earns an irritable huff from Aoba as he pries his trapped hand from between them to reach around and trace the floral tattoos he knows by heart. Each and every mark on the other man's body he adores, but the flowers are a personal favorite. They're a beautiful representation Koujaku's own chained self, that when freed can only be honest. ]

Don't think I'd let you touch my hair if I didn't already want you to. [ Aoba's teeth scrape a path upward along exposed skin until he finds a sensitive spot worth biting tenderly. ] Besides. I'm going to make you forget you fucked anyone but me in that chair. [ A lick and a kiss seal the promise, as does his knee between Koujaku's legs. ]

[ Feeling Aoba's body stiffen prompts Koujaku to instinctively loosen his grip slightly, giving the other an adequate opportunity to push him away, should he choose to. A low chuckle rumbles from his chest in response to the insult as he brings a hand up to the back of Aoba's head, lightly threading his fingers through the hair he finds there.

The feather-touch strokes of Aoba's fingers on his tattoo are soothing, and it prompts Koujaku's eyes to flutter shut with a sigh. The tattoo splashed across his back had been a constant source of hatred and shame for all the years Koujaku had had it, but when Aoba touched it like that... ]

Oho? [ Koujaku opens his eyes, sending Aoba a sidelong glance before he bites back a groan at the sensation of his mouth on his skin. He pulls the other man closer to him once more, the hand at Aoba's waist lightly sliding up the back of his shirt. The usual Aoba he was not, but Koujaku is helpless beneath his ministrations; it seemed that he was cursed to accept and fall at the feet of any and all of Aoba's incarnations. ] Why not aim higher and make me forget that I've fucked anyone but you in general?

[ He keeps his tone light and teasing even as he leans forward and nips at Aoba's shoulder through his shirt, the hand at Aoba's back dipping low to tease beneath the waist of his pants. ]

Because a point of comparison is necessary to appreciate what we have now.

[ A pleased hum escapes Aoba as he encourages the hand on his backside lower by shimmying against Koujaku's front. The upward movement also allows him to reach the highest point of his ear, then draw his tongue down along the rim. He kisses the other man's angular jaw and grins, face lingering so Koujaku is sure to feel the curl of his lips. ]

Unless you want to forget. I could easily crush the memory of each and every woman you've slept with.

[ Despite their proximity, his voice- carrying the faint lilt of Scrap -is just above a whisper. Not a threat, no. Never. An offer, meant only for Koujaku. He could remove any instance where Koujaku had sought refuge in a stranger's arms in fear of rejection. Make it so they had always been together, just the two of them. He could have Koujaku all to himself.

Aoba shivers at the possibility of using his power again and grinds against the leg he's straddling. His hold on Koujaku's hand tightens, thumb petting all scars within reach while he withdraws the other hand to start loosening his kimono. Even if the answer is 'no,' Aoba plans on having him in every other way imaginable. ]

[ The movements of Aoba's body against his own, however slight, are enough to drag a low hiss from between Koujaku's teeth. His hips rock lazily against Aoba's as his breath gusts in his ear, prompting a slow smirk to quirk up the corners of Koujaku's lips. ]

Mmn, but without those memories I wouldn't know what I know when it comes to-- [ His fingers dip low, toying with the waistband of Aoba's boxers. ] -- One of the finer things in this life. Perhaps another time. [ He turns his head and lightly nips at Aoba's lower lip; as far as he's concerned, Koujaku is already his, playing easily into his hand as he gently leads Aoba back to the (rather conveniently located) chair that they had spoken of previously. The front of his kimono falls open easily, and he extricates himself from the other man to briefly shrug it off of his shoulders, his obi holding up the fabric as it falls to his waist.

Knowing what he does of Aoba's power, Koujaku feels no fear... and why should he? Aoba had been the catalyst for his will to live, and Koujaku keeps even this in mind as he slides the hand not at the other man's back to the front of his pants, deftly undoing his belt. Dragging his mouth from Aoba's lips to the side of his jaw, Koujaku's teeth gently graze his neck, his tongue darting out to lave against his skin. Whether he is Reason or Desire, Koujaku wants Aoba, in all shapes and forms. ]

[ Following suit in the brief intermission, Aoba slips his jacket off with a roll of his shoulders and kicks it aside. His coil and shirt join it in short order. Romancing was all well and good for a bashful idiot like Reason; Desire, on the other hand, doesn't feeling like screwing around in any but the most literal sense. Gold eyes glint in the dim light as he relishes the sight of Koujaku's elegant fingers divesting him of his belt. ]

Pity. Nothing would make me happier than ripping all traces of them from you. Not to mention how honored I'd feel teaching you everything I know. [ Those words all but purred, he slings an arm around the other man's neck with a melodramatic sigh, undoing the clasps of his collar. It drops just in time- Koujaku's ministrations drag an unhindered moan from Aoba's lips as he's left hanging from his neck, back arched. His breath comes hot and fast as he tucks his face into the crook of Koujaku's neck, murmuring: ] You know I love you too, right?

[ Not that he waits for a response. Unhindered by guilt or fear, he isn't so merciful as he plunges his teeth into the newly revealed skin again and again, intent on leaving his mark. Though he accompanies the attack with a smattering of licks and kisses to soothe the pain.

Still going at it, he nudges Koujaku until his legs hit the chair and he has nowhere to go except onto the waiting seat. That accomplished, he waits for their eyes to lock before he sweeps both hands down Koujaku's legs, lowering himself between them. A teasing smile crosses his features as he leans forward, taking the pants zipper in his teeth. Angled upward for a better show, he rolls his tongue over the metal with an expertise he's sure Reason lacks. ]

[ Aoba's directness is a thrill in and of itself, and Koujaku quietly admires the way in which the other man removes his shirt and coil with such ease. The sight of his bare torso does little to alleviate Koujaku's desire, but he reminds himself that all things come in good time... Literally and figuratively.

At what Aoba says next, Koujaku manages a wolfish grin. ] I'm sure you'll still find things to teach me. [ He half-whispers his words, inclining his head to give Aoba easier access to his collar, while Koujaku's hands take no time undoing the button of Aoba's pants before gently smoothing their palms along the length of his torso, teasingly mapping the flat planes of skin he found there. The feeling of Aoba's words ghosting across his neck cause Koujaku's muscles to stiffen, his breath hitching in his throat as he registers what the other said.

"You know I love you too, right?"

Koujaku is ashamed at the way his heart practically leaps into his throat in response, his hands stopping in their tracks just below Aoba's ribcage. His skin flushes as his stomach does a flip, Aoba's teeth dragging a moan past Koujaku's lips before he can censor it.

He doesn't respond to the sentiment, mainly because he can't. He falls easily into the chair as if in a daze, his hand instinctively reaching to lightly stroke Aoba's hair. Were it anyone else, he'd have grasped the strands without concern, but knowing what he does about the man before him, Koujaku treats his hair gently, his breath catching in his throat once more at the sight of his zipper between Aoba's teeth.

In spite of his flushed skin and practically shaking body, he manages another smirk down in Aoba's direction. ]

You're full of surprises today, aren't you?

The IC Anon Questions Meme!

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