A/N: My first Hikaru no Go fic. As always, it's all Kantayra's fault for dragging me in a new fandom.


Hikaru doesn't get to finish. Hard to say anything when lips press against his and a tongue invades his mouth. Minty, his tastebuds supply unhelpfully. Minty means Touya has had dinner, has cleaned up and is ready for bed. Minty means he would be asleep, already, if he hadn't been waiting for Hikaru to return. Listening for steps in the hallway, for a key unlocking their door. Hurrying to the door to pull Hikaru in before he can even say three words. Kissing the breath out of him until Hikaru forgets the last two days of boring travel, uncomfortable hotel rooms, endless demonstration games and unbearable loneliness.

Three phone calls including one at bedtime and thirty-seven text messages each did not do much to ease the loneliness. Touya's eager embrace and lips, however, are definitely helping on that front.

They're breathing hard when they break apart. Hikaru is grateful for the door at his back. Without it, he's not sure he would still be standing. Pressing his forehead against Hikaru's, Touya smiles. Something flips in Hikaru's stomach, and it's not the stale sandwich he had in the train. He smiles back, feeling a little goofy – feeling like he's sixteen again and this was their first kiss.

"Welcome back," Touya says, so formal even when a minute ago he was practically molesting Hikaru. "How was your trip?"

Which, in their private language, means "Are you too tired?". Too tired for what depends on the circumstances. Go, sex, usually both. The order doesn't matter so much.

Hikaru wants to say he's not too tired. He wants to tell Touya about this move he thought of during his trip, wants to replay their last game and see if the move would have changed the end result. He wants to drop to his knees, tug free the belt that holds Touya's robe closed and suck his fantastic brain out via his dick, nevermind that he hasn't even taken his shoes or his jacket off yet. He wants to stay awake all night, curled around Touya, listening to his heart, each beat as crisp as a stone laid on the board; he missed that sound, last night, in that too empty hotel room.

"The trip was—"

Fine. Suck him off first, then play.

Interesting. Tell him of that move first, and fuck when he's suitably impressed.

There are shadows beneath Touya's smiling eyes. Hikaru is not the only one who had trouble sleeping last night. He's not the only one, also, who has a big game tomorrow.

"—tiring, actually." He gives Touya an apologetic smile. "Rain check?"

Touya rolls his eyes. Not at Hikaru's claim to be tired, of course not, Hikaru is sure of it. His disapproval is toward the offer to make it up to him. It's not the first time one of them comes home from a tiring trip. It won't be the last either.

And it won't be the first or last time that they wake up at three or four when they've had at least some sleep. Touya can be very…creative when it comes to awakening Hikaru. Hikaru really likes it when Touya gets creative – whether it's in bed or while they're playing go.

"You have an important game tomorrow," Touya says, one hand taking Hikaru's travel bag, the other helping him out of his jacket. "You should rest."

No word about Touya's game. Hikaru would mention it, if only to point out that they both need the rest, but he really is tired, and even playful bickering is beyond him. Was it only ten years ago that they were teenagers and unable to sleep before they had fucked, sucked or jerked off – it didn't matter which, really, as long as they got to come, preferably a couple times each.

"I feel like an old geezer," he mutters as Touya, his eagerness turned to gentleness, helps him out of his clothes. "Can't even take care of my boyfriend properly."

Touya clucks his tongue. "Let me worry about taking care of you."

He is now ushering a naked Hikaru toward the bathroom. It's too small for the two of them – they've tried. Not for the first time, as he washes away the stress of his trip, Hikaru thinks that they could get a house together. It's not like anyone still thinks they're roommates. Maybe he'll suggest it tomorrow night, when they're done dissecting each move – when they've cashed in that rain check.

Touya has left the bedside lamp on. He shuts it off when Hikaru climbs into bed. Hikaru's skin is hot, warmed by the water. Touya's is cooler. It always is. They find their place against each other, arms and legs wrapping, entwining, holding close. His ear to Touya's heart, Hikaru sighs and closes his eyes. The game in his mind starts before he even falls asleep.

They wake up early; earlier than they needed to. But then, they did need to, didn't they? They find relief fast – pleasure blinds Hikaru like lightning; blood beats in his ears like thunder. They're gentler after that, finding a more leisurely pace that lets them kiss, caress and share senseless words of love. Those words and caresses are as sweet as those chocolate candies Hikaru discovered Touya likes so much – after three years of dating him. But the sweetest part—



—is always when they let that last barrier go, always in a whisper, always when they're spent and flushed, their foreheads pressed together, their eyes locked. Touya falls asleep again first, and for a while Hikaru stares up into the darkness, peaceful as he runs his fingers through his lover's hair. Over the years, he has said, once or twice, that it's too long. Touya didn't listen. Hikaru is glad he didn't.

When they wake up again, they smile at each other. Even after all this time, each smile from Touya is like a gift, precious and warm. They don't talk much as they get ready, eat breakfast, leave the apartment. They don't need to talk, or at least not in words. They're not big on public displays, but the brush of Hikaru's hand against Touya's or at the small of his back when they climb into the elevator, or Touya's leg pressing against his own in the train, these small touches and all the others could feel pages upon pages of their exchanges. There are questions about nervousness in these touches, and offended scoffs that claim only losers get nervous. There are hums of contentment, and thank you's as sultry as the ones they breathed in each other's ear in the early morning. There are encouragements, and admonitions to play at their best, as though either of them needs any such reminder.

When they reach their floor, Waya catches Hikaru's attention. Touya inclines his head toward Waya, then gives Hikaru a faint nod before walking on alone.

"Nervous?" Waya asks with a sly grin.

Hikaru blinks, tearing his eyes away from Touya, settling them instead on his friend. He raises an eyebrow at him and doesn't even dignify the question with an answer. Waya chuckles. They chat for a little while.

When the time comes, Hikaru follows Touya into the Room of Deep Contemplation. He kneels down across from him and meets his eyes squarely. A look into those clear eyes is enough – Touya wants to win this game as much as he wanted to come, just hours ago; he's as glad that it's Hikaru in front of him as he was to see him return last night. And Hikaru wouldn't have it any other way.

the end