May. 30th, 2014 12:41 am
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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.
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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The hand he had been trailing along Hijikata's shoulder came to gently capture his left hand, so he could press his cheek against the cool metal of his palm. Hijikata was always so careful about touching him with that hand, as though it might bother him, but to Souji it was just another piece of who he was, nothing to be self-conscious about.
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Toshi paused, surprise at what Souji had done written clearly on his face. It wasn't the first time someone touched his cyber during a moment of intimacy, but it was rare - the type he usually ended up with viewed visible cyber like his as something to be politely ignored. And for one night? He was perfectly fine with that.
He realized he'd stopped, and gave Souji a quick, tiny smile before resuming mapping Souji's back with his fingertips. He didn't pull his other hand away, either, but he didn't move it, either - he knew that it was easy to push too hard, even now that he was well-used to the decreased sensitivity.
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But then he found himself not wanting to think about other people having been here in his place, and thankful that the touch along his own back was a distraction from that thought.
He turned his hand so he could lace his fingers with Hijikata's before smiling and leaning in for a kiss.
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Toshi gave his clasped hand a little, careful squeeze. The way Souji wasn't simply ignoring that part of him made him feel... vulnerable, perhaps. Awkward. Not quite uncomfortable, but it was something that was going to take some getting used to.
A kiss, on the other hand, was something he knew what to do with. He leaned in to meet Souji, making this one firmer and deeper than the last
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He made a pleased little noise at the kiss, letting himself get wrapped up in how good it made him feel, despite his own concerns about not quite managing to measure up.
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To coax that reaction of genuine pleasure out of Souji - something that seemed so rare and new - it sent a thrill of warmth down Toshi's spine. There was always a certain joy to bringing pleasure to one's partner, and he knew he was the first for Souji. Which was frightening, as well - it seemed like a massive responsibility. But he pushed that thought aside and concentrated on the moment instead. He slid his hands lower, over the waistband of Souji's pants.
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Rather than work his way under Souji's pants right now - they had time, he wasn't going to rush - he ran his hands over the top of the fabric, all the way down to the surface of the bed, and then squeezed. Rather than lean in for another kiss at the same time, he watched Souji's expression instead, to see how he reacted.
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Ah - not an ass person, clearly. Toshi's smile quirked, looking just a little amused at Souji's reaction, but he leaned in for another kiss instead of saying anything - it's fine, don't worry was in his actions, rather than spoken aloud. He also shifted his hands back up, to rest on the small of Souji's back.
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He appreciates that Hijikata is patient with him and understanding of the situation, but for all they pretend they have all the time in the world, he knows that isn't the case. Life is too uncertain. It would be, even if they were home, but it's doubly true now. The problem is, he just doesn't know what to do about it.
So all he can do is kiss him back and hope he can convey that he does want this, regardless.
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The kiss is good - he's trying not to think of how long he's wanted this, doesn't want to get swept up with questioning how he feels - but Toshi realizes that maybe he's moving too fast for Souji. There's plenty to do and appreciate already. One hand comes away from Souji's back, and gently catches one of the other man's wrists. He brings it up, and presses a careful kiss to the pale skin, marred only by a fine, faded scar.
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Toshi doesn't notice Souji's uncertainty, given he couldn't see the other man's face. Instead he continued working his way up Souji's forearm, kiss by kiss, until he reaches the crook of his elbow. Toshi knows how strong Souji is, has seen him fight, and right now he can feel that strength underneath the pale softness of his skin.
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At that sharp intake of breath, Toshi pulls his mouth away, though he doesn't release his hold on Souji's wrist. He gives him a questioning look, and then, belatedly, gives voice to his question.
"Is this okay?"
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"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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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