I forgot I signed up for NaNo summer camp. Oops. >.< Well, maybe I'll try for 30,000 new words as I get stuff written? The problem is I have a lot of typing up of things in notebooks and editing to do.
Here's another promptfic from 2011. I actually made several tries at this one before, but couldn't get it to work until I gave in to the fact that it wanted to be sex and switched to Tatsuma's POV (he's really hard to write, but I do like how it turned out in the end).
I forgot I wrote a comment-fic for this earlier, salvaging one of my failed attempts. Posted to AO3!
Everything Here Bites
400 words. More Kyouichi/Tatsuma. Kyouichi does not appreciate being bitten... At least not most of the time.
Title: An Accident of Timing
Prompt: Sense of timing
Warnings: Non-explicit-type sex
Summary: When they kiss Kyouichi pretends it's an accident, but Tatsuma is sure they are too perfectly in sync for that. At least, he wants to be sure. Takes place between episodes 13 and 14. Spoilers for first season/Dark Arts arc.
Tatsuma didn’t mind at first when Kyouichi said their first kiss was an accident.
If it had been anyone else, maybe it would have been nothing more than an accident of timing. They had turned towards each other, in sync as they always are, and their mouths brushed together in passing.
But this is Kyouichi. From the moment they met he’s felt as if he knows Kyouichi. When they stand back-to-back it’s like Kyouichi is an extension of his own body, or perhaps vice-versa. They are almost one, and the faintest nudge against his heel and shoulder tells him how to dodge as if his own senses are warning him.
They spend most of their time together, fighting and otherwise, and they keep running into kisses. Brief, impulsive kisses that make Tatsuma smile every time. Kyouichi keeps pretending they are only accidents.
Tatsuma is okay with pretending, because he thinks he understands. He thinks he’s adapting to Kyouichi’s pace. Kyouichi only knows how to show people he loves them by protecting them, and even then his protection is often rough enough to be mistaken for abuse. This is like learning a new skill for Kyouichi, and Tatsuma certainly doesn’t know how to teach it, so he helps by making it as easy for Kyouichi as he possibly can.
He fits with Kyouichi, so seamlessly that he can’t always take it for granted. He wonders sometimes if he was made to fit over all of Kyouichi’s rough edges, if that’s why he could never seem to succeed in reaching out to people no matter how much he loves them. Of course that can’t be true. They’re people, not puzzle pieces. It’s fate that dragged him here to meet the people he can finally connect with somehow. Maybe that’s why he’s found someone who fits him. Even Kyouichi’s sense of timing is perfectly matched to his.
That’s why when Kyouichi slipped and hit him in the face during practice it hurt. Not the bruise on his face–he knew Kyouichi had no patience left to pull his punches that day–but the feeling that his own timing was off. They aren’t actually in sync.
Because of that Tatsuma starts to wonder if maybe the kisses were just accidents. Maybe it’s only in his own head that he thinks he anticipates each move Kyouichi will make when they fight together. Maybe when Kyouichi throws an arm around his shoulders it doesn’t really mean anything.
It hurt even more when he started to spend more time with Hirasaka and Kyouichi didn’t seem to understand. Tatsuma had already felt her dying in his arms. He couldn’t abandon her. He had to follow where she led, to do what he could for her. But he didn’t know how to explain any of that to Kyouichi. By then he had let himself get used to thinking Kyouichi understood, and so Tatsuma felt lost when he didn’t.
When Kyouichi tracked him down and rushed to his side, when Kyouichi held him so tightly that it hurt the whole way back to Tokyo, he didn’t know what to think. He still doesn’t know that to think, not really.
Their last battle against Tendo Kozunu at least made him sure all over again that they can move in sync. Even when he’s fighting a completely different battle from the one Kyouichi is involved in, he can feel Kyouichi protecting him and Misato without ever having to look up. Even if Tatsuma misunderstood some things, and failed to explain others, they will always have that.
Kyouichi walks him home from the hospital. Even though his body still isn’t quite healed and it feels like he’s not moving the way he should, their pace matches. Kyouichi’s hand keeps finding the middle of his back. It feels as if he would like to wrap that arm around Tatsuma, to pull Tatsuma’s arm over his shoulders and support him again.
They’re a good match. Kyouichi said so, and that has to mean something. They move in sync, as if Kyouichi can feel Tatsuma’s intentions the same way Tatsuma feels him.
Kyouichi follows him into the bare apartment where he’s staying. It’s the first time he’s come over. Normally Kyouichi prefers to be in his own territory (at least that’s how Tatsuma thinks of it), and that’s fine, because Tatsuma likes how Kyouichi is when he’s in control and he doesn’t feel he has a territory of his own, anyway.
Kyouichi drops the bag with their convenience store meals on the table. Now his arm really is around Tatsuma’s waist, not just supporting him as he sits down but pulling him closer. Tatsuma turns into Kyouichi so that their noses brush, then their lips, in that way that Kyouichi always pretends is an accident but isn’t.
This time neither of them pulls away. Tatsuma can’t know why Kyouichi keeps kissing him, but he knows he wants the warm point of contact that says this connection he feels is real. He opens his mouth for Kyouichi’s tongue, which plunges past his lips as if it belongs there. As far as Tatsuma is concerned, it does.
When they finally break contact, Tatsuma feels his name being breathed across his tingling lips like a question. He murmurs Kyouichi’s name back in answer. It’s okay, he wants to say, I can move at your pace because it’s yours.
“Don’t disappear like that again. It was a pain in the ass to find you, you know that?”
Tatsuma can only smile in response.
“So, were you in love with her?”
“Huh?” Tatsuma doesn’t know how to answer. Because love is a lot of things, and something tells him what he felt, what he still feels, for Hirasaka isn’t quite the same as what Kyouichi is asking for. He doesn’t know how to say that what he’s unsure about is himself, not her. He wonders if he’s supposed to ask the same about Misato, if that’s the conversation they’re having right now.
Before he can speak Kyouichi is on him again, kissing the words away. His hands come up to catch Kyouichi as he feels his friend lean into him.
Kyouichi’s hands move lower, his weight shifts, and Tatsuma realizes he’s supposed to lay back. It’s okay because Kyouichi moves with him, covering him. Kyouichi’s body is warm and solid and Tatsuma isn’t surprised to find that they fit together this way as well as they do back-to-back.
Kyouichi’s knee works its way between his thighs, and the next thing he knows their hips are grinding together. Tatsuma hears a moan slide from his throat that doesn’t sound like his voice at all, which is funny because the noise Kyouichi makes in response is intimately familiar. He knows that grunt of effort from fighting at Kyouichi’s side.
It feels a little like that first time fighting with Kyouichi, a physical introduction. This time the game is not to dodge and counter, but to return every touch with escalating heat. A rush of desperation has washed away the stubbornly slow pace Kyouichi set before today, and Tatsuma is just as swept up in it himself.
Kyouichi’s hands work his belt loose and yank his pants and underwear down all in one impatient motion. Tatsuma pushes himself up on his elbows to watch in fascination as strong, calloused fingers work inside of him. He reaches up to help Kyouichi unzip, fingers seeking out hot, hard flesh and stroking over it. Then Kyouichi moves to cover him again and his field of vision narrows to only the intense face hovering over his.
Here is another way they fit together. The rhythm of Kyouichi inside of him feels right. Moving together is natural as muscle memory, though each thrust is hard as a demand made at sword point.
“I’m here,” Tatsuma gasps out, in response to words caged behind Kyouichi’s gritted teeth. Right now Kyouichi can make sure he won’t go anywhere. He wraps his arms around Kyouichi and clings with all of this strength, wanting the same reassurance for himself.
There’s a part of him that wants it to last forever. When he finishes, holding his breath and arching into Kyouichi as if he really can make their two bodies into one, he wants that to last forever too. And when he falls back onto the floor at last, and Kyouichi moves to kiss him, gently reminding him to breathe, he thinks it wouldn’t be bad for that to last forever either.
Kyouichi favors him with a smile that tries to twist sideways into a smirk. Tatsuma wants to laugh in return, but he’s too out of breath for the noise to come out right.
Closing his eyes, Tatsuma takes his time just breathing. There is a sore place at the crease of his thigh were Kyouichi’s zipper bit into his skin. Tatsuma slips one hand between his legs to touch it. His sweat stings in the wound, but the stickiness he brings back on his fingertips all belongs to Kyouichi, so that’s okay.
When he opens his eyes again he wonders where Kyouichi’s smile has gone. He sits up to kiss Kyouichi, but his sense of timing seems to have gone wrong again because he only gets Kyouichi’s cheek.
Confused, he watches Kyouichi tuck himself away behind his zipper without a word.
They don’t normally rely on words, so it’s not that strange if Kyouichi doesn’t say anything while helping him clean up and checking with uncommonly gentle hands to be sure his half-healed wounds haven’t been aggravated.
It’s probably not strange either that Kyouichi leaves him alone for the night without giving him so much as another kiss, but Tatsuma lies awake feeling empty where he has never noticed emptiness before.
The next day he follows Kyouichi into the heart of his territory. He cups his hands around Kyouichi’s face so that the kiss can’t be an accident and tries to make it clear what he wants. Even if his timing is off, he wants to be sure Kyouichi will understand. Tatsuma has been trying to match himself to Kyouichi’s pace, but he doesn’t think he can wait for Kyouichi’s desperation to peak a second time.
He was never good at reaching people, but since coming to Tokyo he has found there are people who fit like the missing pieces of his mis-shaped self. Kyouichi’s body molds against his in physical understanding.
Kyouichi is no better with words than Tatsuma, but he manages with a few. “Thought I hurt you,” and then, in a voice so low it vibrates through his chest, “Want to go again?” Tatsuma is just grateful that it is all so easy to answer.
Their second time is rough and desperate as the first. This time they manage to get most of their clothes off before falling together onto Kyouichi’s musty futon, and Kyouichi’s hands spend more time exploring his body than grabbing and holding him.
Afterward Tatsuma rolls them over and puts his head down on Kyouichi’s chest, trying to be sure he won’t run away again. His hood falls down over his face, but he hardly notices as he breathes in the musky scent of Kyouichi’s body.
The rhythm of their breathing matches. Their hearts are beating nearly in tandem, so close it feels as if one is echoing the other. Tatsuma almost wants to adjust his own pulse to match Kyouichi’s, but even if he could it won’t last forever. The minute one of them exerts himself they’ll be knocked out of sync again.
Just as Tatsuma is feeling stupid because of course they can’t be physically in sync, no matter how much he feels they should match, Kyouichi’s sense of timing saves him.
Kyouichi lifts his hood to expose his face. He slips one hand under Tatsuma’s chin and encourages him to shift upwards until they are close enough to trade firm, lazy kisses where they lie. He doesn’t say anything, but this time his mouth is busy with kisses so Tatsuma doesn’t mind.
It’s not an accident that they met each other, or that they fit together the way they do. Tatsuma is sure, whatever it is he feels waiting on the horizon for them, he and Kyouichi will face it as two pieces of the same whole.