Kanou x Ayase

Worry

Is there time, can I turn back? I've made mistakes, well, in the past,
Need a chance, can't say goodbye, wish I could set things right tonight
Live, I wanna live inspired
Die, I wanna die for something higher than myself
Anberlin

Kanou had done a lot of things in his life that any normal moral person would have found fault with: in fact there were very few things in his personal history that anyone could consider good. Good was generosity, warmth, doing things for the sake of being nice, and that wasn't him. He had lived hard and he had risen up the ranks of his world to a place where he could look down on a hell of a lot of people that cowered in fear of him. He had killed for money and for revenge and sometimes even just for the hell of it, or to impose a threat and to help his reputation: he knew what the colour of blood on his hands looked like, and it didn't scare him, it never had done. He was not a man born to be gentle, to be kind, to be compassionate. He knew that he had hurt people and he had done wrong by people and hell, there was even some of it that he had come to regret, though he found it hard to admit that out loud.

When he thought that, though, he knew that those vague 'people' were something of a lie: there was only one person.

Ayase.

He didn't know enough about himself to say that, if he could turn back the clock, he would have done anything different, but he knew that he could have tried, at least, to change the way that he had treated the beautiful blond who was his favourite person in the whole of the planet. There had been many ways he could have dealt with Ayase, ways that didn't involve forcing him down and making him bend under his will. Sure, the boy seemed to have forgiven him for it now, but that didn't mean that he had forgotten the look in those eyes after that first time, when he looked so scared, so broken.

He kept swearing to himself that he would never give Ayase that look again. Each time, it was a lie, and though Ayase had stopped looking so wounded and even, recently, had begun to look a little happy, he still couldn't forget that he had, once, hurt him in ways that most people would find unforgivable.

But that boy had been so beautiful, so hopelessly and whimsically beautiful. Every part of him was perfect: from those great, blue eyes that screamed of innocence to the curve of his feet that pattered around on the polished floorboards of their apartment when he woke in the night to get a drink of water. His nose was so delicate it could have been cut from alabaster, his nails perfect crescents that left light scratches down Kanou's back, now that he was starting to relax a little more when his great and heavy weight pressed him down into the bed. His hair always fell around him like spun gold and sunlight, his legs always looked delectable in their tightly cut jeans, toned but tiny, almost doll-like. His arms, when they wrapped around Kanou's neck, were perfect; his skin was perfect; his hands were too, all the more so when they took on that shy initiative and touched the man who loved him so deeply that things stopped making sense.

He stood outside his front door with the key in the lock and sighed to himself, knowing that once more he would walk into the place and find it hard to smile. He wouldn't be able to thank Ayase for the dinner he would have made without sounding gruff and uncouth, and when the blonde would flush he knew that he wouldn't be able to resist taking him, wherever they were, even if the boy was doing something else or was unprepared. He was too much, so much more than he deserved, and he didn't want to hurt him. And now he was having to learn to be all those things that didn't make sense to him: understanding and loving and benevolent. But he wasn't some gentle giant, he couldn't do that no matter how hard he tried, and my God, how hard he had to force himself to try sometimes.

But he couldn't change who he was, no matter how hard he pretended he could.

Each day he stood here and told himself to be nice, though he knew that it was all a lie. But today he entered and the apartment was dark. He stopped, and dropped his jacket, feeling the bile rise up in the back of his throat.

Where was Ayase? He had said something about going to shop today, but that was this morning, and he had been sent with a bodyguard. It was close to six now, and where the hell was he? Kanou tried to force down the tight feeling of panic as he reached for his phone, only to find that it had died. He strode to his office to put it on charge, resisting the urge to run. As he passed the dark rooms he felt a rush of loneliness, for, he realised, he hadn't been alone in his apartment for what felt like forever: his life had become ruled by the knowledge that Ayase would be here when he came home.

What if he had left? There might not be enough of a reason for him to return, not now the debt was all paid off, anyway. He had thought that Ayase not mentioning moving out was a good sign, but what if he had only been waiting until he had the means to do so? Surely he wouldn't have done that, would he? He bit the inside of his mouth hard enough to make it bleed as he rammed the charger into the phone, but ended up promptly dropping it to the floor when the door clicked open, and rushed and light steps half-danced into the in their haste room, shoving the door shut behind them.

He stilled, enough to hear the gasp in the hallway as they caught sight of Kanou's jacket, moments before the irate man barrelled out of his office.

"Where have you been?"

Ayase shivered at the raised voice, bag clutched in front of him like a shield. His head was bowed, hair falling forward to hide his expression.

"Ah, I'm sorry Ka-"

"Are you alright?"

He nodded, just slightly, before he was crushed into a tight and suffocating embrace against Kanou's chest. He stiffened for a moment, before letting his hands relax to his sides as he rested his cheek against the broad and solid stretch of muscle. Just as quickly as he was pulled into the embrace he was pushed away, hands on each shoulder jerking him back so that Kanou could see his face. That deep, black scowl was in place, but Ayase wasn't as scared of it as he used to be, and there was a strange feeling mixed in there now that plucked at his chest and made it tighten.

"There was an accident, and the road was blocked. Do you want me to start cooking dinner?"

Kanou shook his head, hands sliding up that thin and pliant neck to cup his face, the tip of a thumb brushing over pale and bloodless lips. He bit his own before pressing their mouths together, feeding greedily on him with tongue and teeth, as if he was trying to devour him. He pulled back after he had his fill, though now there was more of him that demanded to be satisfied.

"I'm sorry for making you worr-"

"Shut up."

Then Kanou's hands were underneath his slim thighs, hitching him up until their faces were level. No smile made its way onto his face even at the sight of the sweet blush on Ayase's face, so much more obvious now that their faces were level. His breath did hitch, though, as the small blonde with an adorable hesitancy and awkwardness, wrapped his legs around Kanou's waist, letting the taller man slip his hands further up his legs to curve around his ass. His tongue probed deep into Ayase's mouth as he walked slowly backwards through the hallway to the bedroom. It was a tempting thought to take him unprepared against the wall, but the bed was beckoning. Even with his great size, that bed had been too big by himself. With Ayase next to him, it seemed just right.

He threw him down, falling to his knees at the foot of the bed to pull his own and Ayase's clothes off them both, kissing each bit of skin as if was bared to the air. Lying flat on the bed, the blonde shivered, voice already a little breathy.

"You taste of blood, Kan-"

His words were cut off by a quiet but heady moan as the man above him grazed his teeth across an exposed nipple, and he arched his back upwards into the mouth. From Kanou's perspective Ayase looked quite delectable, shivering and pink, body writhing under practised touches. He screamed aloud as Kanou pressed three fingers into his body, too soon, but he was used to that singular pain: he had even, in a strange way, come to anticipate it with a little pleasure.

Kanou kissed those noises away as he pulled his fingers out and slid inside the widened space ready for him, his eyes rolling back into his head at the tightness. Ramming himself in and out of the slim and delicate body beneath him he bit back all the words that he struggled so hard to keep in and get out at the same time: that he loved Ayase, that the blonde was the singular most beautiful thing he had ever seen, that he would die to save him, that his life was nothing without him, that, that, that, that-

Ayase threw his head back as his came, one of Kanou's hands wrapped around his own erection, moments before the other did, deep inside of him, filling him with a consuming warmth.

Kanou collapsed on top of him, sighed with deep contentment, and lifted himself up on his elbows to stare down at Ayase, expecting to see the blond looking away, as they normally did. Today, though, blue eyes were boring up at him, soft as those small and lovely hands that reached up to pull his mouth down for a kiss. Just one on his mouth, short and chaste, then another on his nose, and then Ayase was kissing all over Kanou's face, light and brief pecks with his eyes tightly closed now and his hands fisted in dark hair. He pressed another to the shell of his ear, and whispered into it before darting back across his cheek.

"Please don't think I'm not going to come home."

Kanao felt heat radiate upwards through his chest at that, and his was filled with a nameless mess of emotion as Ayase pulled back, wiping at his eyes with his hands. He rolled off him with a carefulness that he was not accustomed to, and lay down to the side of him.

"Ayase, I…"

He trailed off, words once more vanishing as they struggled to get out.

"Thank you."

A small, almost imperceptible nod came from the other as Kanou extracted the bed sheets and threw them over their naked bodies.

In the dark, underneath the covers, Ayase's hand found his own, and held on tight. His face rested on a cool pillow, a face for once free of that scowl he so often wore, and Kanao found that the smallest of smiles was tugging at the corner of his mouth. Half asleep already, with a quick and tender gravity that, had he been thinking about it, he would not have been able to do, he lifted that hand held in his own and pressed his mouth to it without intent or depravity or anything other than love.

"Night, Ayase."

A body snuggled into his, and that rare smile refused to go away.