It always starts with his voice.
"Don't move or I'll kill you."
The words quiver in the air, cueing the rest of the scene to come into focus. Natsuki's arms encircle Yuki from behind, and Yuki is sure Natsuki can feel his goosebumps under his shirt and his heart knocking against his ribs.
Next, Natsuki nibbles Yuki's ear. Yuki gasps at the blunt points digging gently into the cartilage, flushing a dusky red as they give way to the swipe of a tongue.
When Natsuki kisses his way down to the edge of Yuki's shirt collar, leaving circles of wet on Yuki's skin that grow cold against the coastal air, Yuki whines. Natsuki pauses, then resumes more urgently, encouraged by the reaction. His narrow chin rests in the hollow of Yuki's shoulder while his fingers unravel the knot of Yuki's tie.
"Are you okay?"
Yuki nods, eyes squeezed shut, no longer trusting his voice. He barely hears Natsuki whisper cute. His tie falls to either side of his neck.
One..two...three..four...Yuki counts each button as it is unfastened, trying to calm himself down, to work the tremble out of his breath. He loses all tenuous control when Natsuki untucks him to get at the last few closures.
Warm, rough hands whose mere touch conveys their expertise palm the contours of Yuki's torso, tease his navel, slowly roll raised bumps of pink between their fingertips. Yuki lolls his head back on Natsuki's shoulder, giving soft moans half into messy black hair. The redhead doesn't even recognize himself as he grasps Natsuki's lithe, calloused fingers in his own.
Natsuki returns the squeeze, presses his lips, feather-light, to burning cheek, and frees a hand to plunge it down, down, down...
Yuki inevitably jolts out of the dream at this moment, sparing him the embarrassment of soiled sheets but leaving him with a tingle down there that turns his face a color to match his hair. He shivers against his pillow.
This is the third time Yuki has dreamed this particular dream, and it's all he can do to be in the same town as Natsuki anymore.
Haru bounces into the room, pole and tackle in hand.
"Yuki, let's gooooo!"
Yuki shrinks from his hyperactive housemate. "I'm really sick. Go away."
It's not entirely a lie, Yuki thinks. For one thing, the dreams are chronic. If left unchecked, there just might be a heart attack in his future.
"Keitoooo! Yuki won't get out of bed!"
The small, clipped footsteps of the Frenchwoman precede her benevolent smile and twinkling eyes in the doorway.
"Yuki? What's wrong?"
Haru thrusts his bottom lip out in a pout. "He says he's sick."
Cool, soothing fingers tug the sheets back from Yuki's head and lean against his temple.
"Haru, you're going to have to do without our Yuki today. It seems he has a fever."
"It means he needs to rest and be alone for a while, okay?"
Haru hangs his head and grudgingly shuffles out. "O-kay."
Keito sits beside Yuki on the bed, stroking his hair in thoughtful silence.
"You know, it's alright to feel what you're feeling."
"Eh?" Yuki turns to face his grandmother. Keito's gaze reads him like a map.
"I know a blush when I see it."
Yuki leaps away from Keito to the far edge of the bed, plastering himself against the wall.
"You don't have to talk about it. Just know that you shouldn't be ashamed of it. It's all part of youth."
Yuki doesn't come off the wall until Keito leaves. He slumps forward in solitude, willing the heat of his face to consume him on the spot.
I should have moved. Then Natsuki would've killed me.
A/N: OTP forever right here. Tsuritama does not belong to me, but my deep, deep feelings for Yuki/Natsuki do. More to come of this, eventually. Please tell me what you think! Cheers and a good day.