pocketsfullof | (no subject)

It's rare that there's any sort of real privacy in Liminal Space, so when it decides to temporarily become a maze of run-down hotel corridors with rooms to match, Toshi actually feels almost cheerful for once. The rooms look clean, too, if old and careworn. There's a bland painting of a vase of flowers over the bed, although Toshi had to draw the curtains on the one window, because the almost cartoonish landscape outside with a purple sun and sky blue trees was making him feel motion sick. His jacket is already draped over the one chair in the room, and once the 'outside' is dealt with, he undoes the tie and shirt, too, leaving them on one edge of the bed. The lines of accumulated scars, new and old, are a pale web against his tanner skin. He's lucky - he doesn't scar badly, and he caught the worst of that explosion all those years ago with the arm shielding his face rather than his face itself.

Still, his line of work, past and present - it leaves marks. The newest is the clean line across his right bicep, still pinkish-red despite the magical healing, though he knows it will fade. The oldest is an almost-invisible patch of paler skin on one elbow, care of a sidewalk and childhood. Others, perhaps, were more obvious. His left shoulder was the worst of it, and probably always would be - a patchwork of surgical scars, skin grafts, and shrapnel pockmarks. The latter speckled his chest and face, too, though not nearly as badly. Then there were the ones he didn't like dwelling on - the thin, clean lines of the precise incisions he'd woken up with on Mobeius.

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He feels guilt the moment Hijikata pulls away--he doesn't want him to--and there's a moment of awkward embarrassment before he nods. "It's okay." It's not Hijikata, it's him, and he needs to figure this out, because it's unfair, otherwise.

"Okay." Toshi gives him a small smile - he had just wanted to be certain, because hurting Souji, even accidentally - it would destroy him. He dipped his head back down, working in from the edge of Souji's left collarbone, and then down the center of his chest.

He holds his breath as Hijikata moves from his collarbone to his chest because the scar there is the only one with real emotions attached to it--in part because it's the only one he doesn't clearly remember getting. All he knows is that it wasn't good--nothing in that place was good--and trying to remember it leaves him with a bad feeling. But he doesn't want Hijikata to stop, to think he has to, so he brings a hand up and lets it trail along the older man's shoulder in a way he hopes offers some reassurance.

Souji's touch almost makes him shiver - just light enough for him to want more. He pauses when he reaches the edge of the scar on Souji's chest - he remembers more of what happened on Mobeius than some of the others, and more than Souji does. Enough that while he can't remember Souji getting that wound, he can extrapolate the circumstances. Still - avoiding it will make things worse. While he doesn't want to talk about it, this is still a part of Souji, the way the scars on his shoulder are a part of him. Carefully, he starts to trace it with the tip of his tongue.

He releases a shuddering breath--though the actual feeling is somewhat muted by the scar itself, it's a different level of intimacy, allowing Hijikata access to something he normally took pains to hide from others. It's not easy, and a part of him wants to run from this, but he trusts Hijikata, more than he ever has anyone else, so he can't.

Toshi has enough scars of his own to know that there's an odd deadness to scars, a lack of sensation in the surface of skin - but he also knows that sometimes, the skin around it becomes more sensitive in return. When he reaches the bottom of the long incision, he licks back up in a wide line.

A surprising wave of heat floods his skin when Hijikata does that, and he grips his arm to ground himself as he makes an effort to calm his unsteady breathing. He's not a complete innocent, but this is the closest he's ever been with another person.

Toshi can feel that ripple of tension under his mouth, and well, Souji hasn't told him to stop. He moves up again and kisses the outline of one of Souji's collarbones, sucking just enough to leave a mark.

Maybe he should care about that mark, but it's low, and it will fade quickly enough, and it's Hijikata, so he can't find it in him to protest being claimed in such a way. Instead, he busies his hands, tracing down along Hijikata's ribs, mapping the contours of muscle beneath skin with his fingertips.

Toshi moves his mouth upward, to the side of Souji's neck, and lets his fingers trail up Souji's back. He can't help but twitch once or twice under Souji's touch when he hits a more sensitive spot.

Souji makes a mental note of all the spots that make Hijikata twitch for exploitation in the future, and smiles a little to himself as he tips his head to one side to give him better access to his neck. His own hands dip low enough to trace along the waistband of Hijikata's pants, though that's as far as his daring seems to extend, for the moment.

That touch leaves Toshi wanting more, and it's only a great deal of self-control that keeps him from arching his hips to grind against Souji's. It's starting to be a little distracting, actually, but he tries to keep his attention on Souji, moving up to nibble lightly on an earlobe.

He's more prepared for that sort of action than he was the last time, and instead of tensing up, he manages to stay relaxed and enjoy it, though he shifts, a little impatiently, not quite sure what to do next.

Souji shifting on his lap is the tipping point for Toshi's self-control. He makes a small noise in the back of his throat, half pleasure and half frustration, and pushes back, rubbing up against Souji

Apparently that had been precisely the right thing to do. He was a little too distracted by Hijikata's response to feel pleased with himself, though, preoccupied by the sudden wave of heat that seemed to roll along his spine and compel him to answer Hijikata's movement with his own.

Toshi's hands drop down to Souji's lower back, pulling him closer as he shifts his hips up to grind against Souji. Any pretence of control or respectability has gone out the metaphorical window at this point, and while Toshi isn't loud, his breathing is harsh and punctuated with half-vocalized sounds of pleasure.

He gasps quietly and rolls his hips down, keeping that contact going and wondering, fleetingly, why he never thought to do this before. It was definitely a better alternative to shoving his feelings away and pretending they didn't exist.

Toshi has enough experience to find a decent rhythm without too much work, even if it does take a little bit of conscious control to not just go as fast and as hard as he can - he wants this to be good for both of them. The gasps he's drawing out of Souji are hot as hell, and he buries his own moans into Souji's shoulder.

It's not difficult to just follow along with the pace Hijikata sets--it's good, and it means he doesn't have to think too hard about any of this. He shifts a hand to Hijikata's shoulder, and there a moment before he remembers that he ought to be careful just how tightly he's holding on--he doesn't want to leave bruises, but it's all too easy to get lost in the moment.