A/N: Agnimon x Wolfmon, and inspired by all those Japanese fansites with the digimon running around armor-free and sexy as all hell. ^_^;; I might feel guilty if I didn't know most of you probably get off on the idea as much as I do. Oh, who am I kidding- I don't even feel guilty about slashing Honda and Kaiba or Miroku and Sesshoumaru. *cue evil chortling* I will make these pairings be 'shipped by all! Mwa-ha-ha!

Er, right. Focusing NOW . . .

Warnings: My first 04 fic. And lime. Lime, lime, lime. But almost lemon. And yaoi, but you should've figured that out by now. ^_~

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"Bedroom Eyes"

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It starts with a look.

They were weakened, and tired, wounded and split apart from the others, and Wolfmon had given Agnimon a "look" without even realizing it. They'd exchanged angry words, and afraid, unsure of their friends' safety, they fell to fighting with each other.

And somehow from there, it went to tangled limbs and libido, twisting in together and shedding clothes in a mad knot of passion and feelings that shouldn't be. They are children, after all.

But these bodies are not children's, and these feelings are not children's, and this place is not a place where any children ought to be. This world is not a playground; its dangers are very real and always very close.

Perhaps this is why they grew up so quickly.

But even if it isn't, they both have other problems that would've just as easily done it if they had stayed- reality was never missed with Takuya and Kouji.

Somewhere inside the fusion of their lips and tongues, a voice, faint and dusky, breathes a name. Neither of them knows which one's voice it was, whose name was spoken. Neither of them cares. They are living in the now, even if their now isn't real by normal definitions. Maybe when it's over they'll hate themselves, but right now they have nothing but love and lust in their minds.

Of course the armor would be removable, they both think- but still, neither had ever even thought such a thing would be needed. They are used to using these bodies for making war, not making love, and the reactions brought on by these touches are frightening.

So clothes and armor that they aren't sure how to remove are struggled out of and unfamiliar skin is revealed and marveled at. Heat rises from their bones and sears through flesh and what little fabric remains, until it is ripped away too and cold air freezes the sweat on their skin. They are unused to the strength in these bodies, and their outfits shred beneath their own too-eager fingers.

They don't understand this; don't know what it means to give oneself to someone and to receive them in return. All they see is each other and all they know is that this feels so good.

This feels, in fact, better than that. It feels RIGHT. And these two have learned that gut feelings can save your life; that people can't spend their whole lives waiting for the best time. Sometimes you can, but sometimes, you don't have that long. You have to treat each day as if it were your last, because someday, it will be.

This isn't. But they're still acting like it might be.

Because it always could, after all.

So Agnimon who is sometimes Takuya pulls Wolfmon who is sometimes Kouji to the ground, and both curl into each other, neither exactly dominant but neither exactly submissive either. Torso to torso, legs between legs, hands still roaming and both alternately fighting for and surrendering the top, naked and panting and with every muscle pulled violin-taut.

And again, somewhere between their tongues and teeth a breathless voice cries out softly, and neither one knows whose it is or what it says, and neither one cares. They're here, they're together, they're alive for a little longer, and that's all that matters anymore.

For a moment, they pull back from their embrace, kneeling face- to-face and struggling to regain their lost breath. Their eyes meet for what is probably the first time since this began, and both are startled by what they see there. Their own reflections, for one, and emotions they never thought they'd feel, or at least never thought would feel like this.

The foremost of these is love. Lust and desire blur it slightly, but it's there.

And both of them know, right here and now, that they would do almost anything to get the other to look at them like this forever. And somewhere between now and forever, they will, and they do.

But the only thing that either one can think of now, even with such fear in their hearts, is that this is the way it was always supposed to be.

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* ende *

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. : love is this : .