Kisuke darts into the kitchen and immediately flings himself into a chair at the little kitchen table, slumping over with a pained whine. The table is cold against his bare skin, an awkward reminder than he hadn’t even paused to get dressed before fleeing his own room, but he can’t bring himself to care right now.
(He’s still wearing yesterday’s pants.)
(It’s fine.)
(He and Erich didn’t sleep naked—)
(Oh, but Erich’s undershirt left so little to the imagination, clung to all the right places, rode up to show—)
(No!)
(No, bad brain!)
(Erich isn’t interested in him like that!)
“Get into an argument with loverboy?” Tessai asks with far too much cheer. “Or maybe you kis—”
“We didn’t!” Kisuke yelps before Tessai can finish the thought. “Nothing happened!”
Tessai makes a quiet noise of amusement and turns off the faucet, setting something aside that clinks against the countertop. “Well, there’s still your research dates—”
“They’re not dates! Tessai!” Kisuke practically shrieks, then clamps a hand over his mouth and sits up enough to stare at the kitchen doorway; if Erich heard him, if the man finds out that Kisuke wants him…
(No.)
(No, it’s okay.)
(It’s okay, he can still sense Erich upstairs in… in Kisuke’s room.)
(Oh fuck he’s so doomed.)
Kisuke groans and buries his head in his arms, trying to corral his traitorous emotions and tuck them back where they belong; it’s alright, it’s fine, he’s fine, everything will be fine. He didn’t give in, didn’t kiss Erich the way he wanted to, didn’t screw up their friendship with his ridiculous desires.
(Benihime can stop laughing at him at any moment!)
Tessai chuckles and walks over, setting something down next to Kisuke’s arm. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“Says you,” Kisuke mutters to the table, before finally gathering himself and sitting up. There’s a bowl of miso soup next to his elbow, and he flicks a silent thanks against Tessai’s senses as he picks it up and starts to eat. He really shouldn’t, should just wait for Erich to come down, but… it’s something to keep his hands busy. Doesn’t do a damn thing for the way his mind keeps circling around and around, returning time and time again to the pale column of Erich’s neck, the softness of Erich’s hair, the way he looked sprawled out across Kisuke’s bed—
“Morning, Tsukabishi-san,” Erich says as he steps into the kitchen.
Kisuke chokes. Wrenches his mind away from the fantasy beginning to bloom. Sets his bowl aside and reaches desperately for the glass of water that Tessai’s offering.
(Ignores the amusement in Tessai’s gaze because his friend is a traitor!)
“You alright?” Erich asks with a frown. He steps closer and makes as if to reach out, then hesitates and slowly lowers his hand. “Sorry, did I startle you?”
“N-no, no it’s fine,” Kisuke forces out as he finally stops coughing and looks up at Erich, swallowing back his disappointment at seeing Erich fully dressed and ready for the day. “Just swallowed wrong, nothing to worry about!”
Erich watches him for a moment longer, a strange thoughtful-considering-intent glint in his eyes that sets Kisuke’s teeth on edge, then nods and steps past him to take the seat across from Kisuke. He smiles up at Tessai as the man hands him a bowl of miso soup, murmurs his thanks, and begins to eat as if the past handful of seconds hadn’t happened.
Kisuke narrows his eyes at Erich, wary of the man’s strange mood; has he given himself away, and now Erich is considering how best to let him down? Has Erich decided that he doesn’t want Kisuke helping with the Quincy artifacts anymore? Is he just curious about Kisuke’s recent slip-ups?
(He has to be more careful.)
(He has no evidence that Erich will welcome his advances.)
(He… he doesn’t want to lose Erich’s friendship over a desire for more!)
(He has to be more careful!)
“I’d like to get at least six boxes sorted today,” Erich says between bites, not looking up at Kisuke as he speaks. “The sooner we figure out what’s there, the sooner we can actually get to the interesting part of figuring out what’s what.”
“That’s fine by me,” Kisuke says as he carefully tucks his worries aside and focuses on the challenge in front of him; given how much the retrieval team had crammed into each box — and given that they’d already accidentally triggered something – six boxes was… ambitious.
(They’d only gotten through three the previous evening.)
(But then again, they’re starting out much earlier in the day, so…)
(Maybe they’ll be able to get through more than six boxes.)
Erich tips his bowl up and drinks the last of the broth, then sets the bowl aside and dabs at his face with a napkin. “We should probably avoid working in the same box this time,” he says with a tiny, rueful smile. “We were lucky, yesterday.”
“Lucky?” Tessai pipes up as he walks over, eyes dangerously narrow as he looks first Erich and then Kisuke over. “Did something happen that I was not informed about?” he asks sharply.
“Maa, maa, it was nothing important!” Kisuke exclaims as he waves a hand idly, trying to brush Tessai’s worries aside and managing to do the exact opposite. “Tessaaaaiii~ I’m serious. It just sparked and made our hands tingle for a bit. It really didn’t have any power left.”
Tessai glowers down at him, then reaches out and snatches Kisuke’s wrist in a firm grip, a diagnostic kido blooming into bright, dramatic life. “I will be the judge of that,” he proclaims firmly.
Kisuke heaves a sigh and gives Erich an exasperated look, making sure to roll his eyes as dramatically as he can; he’s rewarded with a tiny, breathy laugh and a whisper-soft brush of amusement-fondness-warmth across his senses that makes something in him squirm.
(He wants, he wants, he wants—)
“Interesting…” Tessai murmurs, gaze darting between the two of them even as his diagnostic kido continues to run.
“What’s interesting?” Kisuke asks sharply, tearing his gaze away from Erich and scowling up at Tessai as he does. “Tessai,” he prods when all Tessai does is smirk down at him, an edge of wicked amusement curling at the corners of his lips.
“You’ll find out eventually,” Tessai tells him as he cuts the kido off and releases Kisuke’s wrist. “Be more careful from now on.”
“We will,” Erich reassures Tessai before Kisuke can start trying to needle a proper answer out of his old friend. “We just weren’t thinking last night, I’m sorry.”
Tessai nods as he collects both of their bowls and steps back towards the sink. “Be sure that you do.”
Erich watches Tessai for a moment, thoughtful-considering-intent once again, then makes a considering noise and leans towards Kisuke, gesturing towards his wrist. “May I?” he asks.
“Alright,” Kisuke answers immediately, offering his hand before he can think better of it; whatever Erich wants to do or check, he doesn’t particularly care. If it means Erich paying attention to him, touching him—
Erich gently takes Kisuke’s hand in his, pressing calloused fingers against Kisuke’s wrist and closing his eyes in concentration; his reiatsu slips through Kisuke’s guard effortlessly, ghosting across his senses and sinking deep-deep-deep into Kisuke’s very self as if they’ve practiced this, as if Kisuke is an open book to him, and—
Erich is warmth-kindness-concentration as his presence eels deeper, checking, ever checking, hunting down every uneasy twist and jagged edge in Kisuke’s self and making sure nothing of the relic’s power lingers in the many shadowy crevices of Kisuke’s soul. He even brushes gentle-soft-kind against the worst of it, leaving traces of warmth behind that make Kisuke breathless with want.
It should feel invasive, should feel wrong, but instead…
Instead all Kisuke wants to do is pull Erich closer and never let him go.
(He can’t.)
(He can’t, he can’t, he can’t—)
(He knows what happens when he becomes possessive—)
Kisuke breathes out, careful-cautious-calming, and tamps back his reactions, hoping Erich hasn’t noticed and knowing there’s no way the man could have missed it, not with how deeply entwined their powers currently are.
Erich hums and slowly, carefully, pulls back, making sure he leaves as seamlessly as possible; still, Kisuke can’t help but shiver as the man lets go of his hand and leans back in his seat, eyes dark with something unreadable.
“Maa, find anything interesting?” Kisuke asks brightly, resisting the urge to rub at his wrist.
“I’m not sure,” Erich murmurs, then hesitates, glances sideways at Tessai, and shakes his head. “It’s probably nothing, sorry. Nothing really stood out to me.”
At the sink, Tessai snorts like that’s the most amusing thing he’s heard so far, which means that Erich overlooked something Tessai considers obvious and that Tessai is going to let them stumble headfirst into like the oblivious fools they are.
(At least that means it’s probably nothing dangerous, but…)
(That leaves a lot of ground behind.)
Erich sighs, reiatsu shading with resignation-acceptance-amusement, and rises to his feet. “We should probably get to work,” he says wryly as he gestures towards the door. “Those boxes won’t sort themselves.”
Kisuke nods and scrambles to his feet to follow, only to freeze when Tessai pointedly flicks a finger and sends a wash of cold air across Kisuke’s naked chest. “A-ah, I should, uhm, probably get dressed first,” Kisuke says hurriedly, rocking back on his heels and rubbing at the back of his head before freezing again as he realizes exactly how that posture must look with him bare-chested and sleep-mussed. He swallows hastily, flashes Erich his brightest smile, and declares, “I’ll meet you in my lab!” before retreating as quickly as he can without looking like he’s fleeing.
(Which he is.)
(Absolutely.)
(Oh fuck he’s so doomed!)
(He’s going to die of mortification.)
(If Erich doesn’t kill him first.)
(Fuck…)