Kyousuke x Mira. Short.


When the night falls down on this place
I will be the one to hold you when the tears run down your face
I think we're snow-blind;
We've had a hard time and it doesn't seem to stop
Rob Thomas

Kyousuke could feel Mira breathing.

The boy was pressed up against to him, clinging to him like he were adrift in the sea, no air between their bodies. He could taste his pseudo-son in his mouth, and he could smell the enveloping aftermath on sex in the heated, heavy air. The feeling of skin against his was intoxicating, and although Mira was dozing off into sleep, he could feel himself stirring again with a deep need to bury himself in that body, to melt inside of him, so they could be moulded together, as one, again.

Again, again, again.

He tried to ignore it, because Mira would get annoyed if he were woken abruptly now, just when he was getting off to sleep. He would probably thump him over the head with a pillow, mutter some sort of insult like the child he was, and move to the other side of the bed- although would never actually leave the bed, and by some point in the night would have gravitated back to the warmth of Kyousuke's body.

The older man sighed, as he ran his fingers lightly through Mira's hair and tried to ignore how the boy's leg was wedged between his own thighs.

What was Mira, to him?

A son and a child, a beautiful little nymph? An adult, a wonder, a passion filled fire? All of them, encompassed in one. A lover, too… and just as sexually promiscuous and unafraid as any lover he had had before this small creature came head-first into his life.

He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, stilling his body so as not to wake him, but the movements must have disturbed Mira anyway, because he flinched, and frowned in his dazed half-sleep. He brought his fists up to rub at his eyes, and then landed them down on Kyousuke's chest, in a show of violence that didn't hurt- it never did. The gentle thump reverberated through his chest as Mira nuzzled his forehead against Kyousuke's collar bone, and made a groaning sound of annoyance and frustration.


He stroked the boy's hair.


"I'm tired."

The boy was cutely petulant, his teeth on his bottom lip and his eyes still squeezed tightly closed.

"I know."

"I want to go to sleep."

Kyousuke smiled, and let the warmth seep through the neutral.

"I'm not stopping you."

Mira opened one eye, and looked up.

"Yeah, but you're not asleep either, are you?"

His voice was laced with innuendo, and coupled with grinding hips. Kyousuke's eyes fell shut against his will as he suppressed his moan, and arched up into the wiry body that was moving on top of him. He felt Mira kiss his shoulder, then his chest, and then dip his tongue down into his navel as his mouth traced all the way down Kyousuke's body. He gently pushed the older man onto his back, hidden underneath the sheets, and Kyousuke's head fell back against the pillow as Mira's mouth started to move with a well-practised rhythm.

He stared up at the ceiling, and whispered Mira's name as his body tightened and released.

Mira appeared again, his hair ruffled, and he curled up, leaning on Kyousuke's chest like he was some sort of well-contented cat. They did not speak, but the closeness of their skin said enough. He found himself stroking Mira's hair again, like you would a pretty little pet, and watched the boy fall asleep. Kyousuke slowed his breathing down, to match the body pressed up against him.

What was Mira, at all?

The warmth enveloped the two of them, and he felt the pulse of Mira's breathing against his body as he stilled.

He could hear his heartbeat, thrumming through his ears.

The rhythm of it sent his eyes slowly slipping downwards.

The boy, half-asleep and half on top of him, he knew, was his.

And that, he supposed as he drifted off to sleep, was enough.