.
.
Your body doesn't belong to only you.
Yuuko's words ring clearly in his mind, her voice soft-quality but edged in harshness. His bright red blood oozes from the wound in his palm, dribbling between the cracks of his fingers. Doumeki's blood, he realizes in growing but meaningful silence.
Another set of fingers come into view, tanner and long, clasping loosely around Watanuki's.
"You're an idiot," Doumeki mutters. He presses Yuuko's lace-embroidered handkerchief to Watanuki's palm, before Watanuki can protest or argue, earning him a loud hissing wince and a reluctant arm-pull. "Watch what you're grabbing."
"I can't just leave this out," Watanuki mutters back, staring down at the broken ceramic plate now splattered and gleaming with red. Ot didn't mean to accidentally drop it, let alone cut himself picking it up. "It's—ow! OWW! Be more CAREFUL with someone who is injured!"
He flails his other hand up into the air and clenches a fist, baring his teeth threateningly at Doumeki who firmly ignores him and staunches the blood-flow.
Yuuko lets out an airy laugh, turning to their last companion inside the low-glow of Doumeki's family temple. "Watanuki is so delicate, isn't he, Himawari-chaaa~aaan?" she announces, grinning as the young girl beams sweetly and nods in agreement.
"Mm, I think he likes the attention from Doumeki-kun," Himawari says, chuckling as Watanuki's face heats up to an absurd pink.
Doumeki's lips twitch faintly.
"W—WHY WOULD I LIKE ANYTHING FROM THAT DUMBASS?"
"Too loud," Doumeki complains aloud, and doesn't bother plugging his ears when the other boy decides to seethe quietly.
It's more like pouting childishly — and it's very, very unfair in Doumeki's opinion that Watanuki feels the need to be adorable while doing so. Even if he doesn't know it. At least Watanuki is letting him clean the wound.
"Go wash off your hand," he orders, carefully removing the bloodied handkerchief.
Watanuki roll his eyes and gets up from the floor.
"Fine, fine…"
Yuuko leans over to Himawari, stage-whispering, "Like a married couple, aren't they?" Himawari giggles, slamming a hand over her own mouth, eyes bright and semi-guilty when Watanuki makes a choked, embarrassed noise and hurries out of the room.
Doumeki shakes his head slightly, lips twitching upwards again. He picks up the broken ceramic pieces one-by-one.
"You two…"
.
.
With some searching, Watanuki locates the kit of antiseptic and bandages.
He rinses off the blood — his, but not just his — watching the suds coloring and swirling down the kitchen drain. Watanuki then scrubs dry fingertips to his burning cheeks, picturing Himawari's delighted expression and Yuuko's sly wink.
Yuuko is a terrible influence on his good, pure friend. Sheesh, the teasing is getting worse…
"Does it hurt?"
He finishes winding and clipping the bandages to his left palm, already having sensed Doumeki approach him. Watanuki scoffs, harrumphing and avoiding eye contact. "It's fine, I said. Do you have curry in your ears?"
Doumeki grabs his bandaged wrist, tugging Watanuki towards him but without any visible anger in brown-golden eyes.
"I gave you my blood…" he speaks up, brow furrowing and gaze narrowed. "Try to not waste it needlessly."
Instead of howling out his indignation and pulling backwards, or throwing wild, dramatic insults, Watanuki glares and says nothing. They're face-to-face, neither of them backing down. Watanuki's nostrils flare as he inhales tightly.
"… You're such a jerk."
"Maybe," Doumeki answers, and a current of warmth travels up Watanuki's belly at the hoarseness.
It's not his imagination running away with him — Doumeki examines his face with gentle, intent purpose, eyes flicking to Watanuki's lips briefly. Despite himself, Watanuki feels his entire body loosen from the previous tension.
A soft relaxed breath passes from Watanuki's mouth.
There's no changing it — Doumeki is his protector, his ward from menacing spirits. The one driving away evil, but just like the spirits, he's… attracted to Watanuki, isn't he? Perhaps even stronger than the spirits.
It's never going to be coincidence.
Watanuki considers the situation and positions his body, turning fully to the other boy. He raises an eyebrow like it's all a challenge. Just as it seems nothing would happen, Doumeki's hand rises, cradling the side of Watanuki's face.
It's only touch-contact, just like the single, close-mouthed kiss between them, lips grazing. Doumeki's the one letting his mouth slack with pleasure, when Watanuki presses harder, kissing him again, his tongue licking slow inside Doumeki's mouth. It's a little awkward and messy, with hot spittle dangling against Watanuki's lips, but it's just he wanted.
Watanuki's bandaged hand falls to Doumeki's waist, holding onto him.
Your body doesn't belong to only you.
But… Domeki's blood belongs to him.
They belong to each other.
The realization flutters open Watanuki's blue eyes, widening them until he steps away, awestruck. Doumeki stares back in mild confusion, blinking once or twice. His thumb lingering over the curve of Watanuki's thin cheek.
Yuuko squeals, peering around the door-frame with a curious Himawari, "How romaaaa~aantic~~!" She keeps smiling so big and devilishly as Watanuki full-on rages in her direction, and a stoic-faced Doumeki walks away, covering up his wars.
Himawari claps her hands, rushing up to Watanuki, practically beaming like sunshine.
"It's so good to see you both getting along after all!"
He slumps and hangs his head, blushing fiercely under everyone's gazes. A defeated sigh escapes Watanuki's lips.
Oh well.
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XXXHOLIC DOESN'T BELONG TO ME. Can you believe for all the years I've been in this fandom and shipping them, I've never written Douwata? I wrote my other OTPS but never them. I'm ashamed. BUT IT IS NOW REMEDIED. I'D LOVE TO HEAR FROM ANYONE STILL HANGING AROUND TH FANDOM! THANK YOU!