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XIII
The first time it happens, Iori thinks it’s a one time thing and it'll never happen again. They just… let their desires get the best of them.
The second time it happens, Iori tries not to think too hard about it. Maybe… maybe it’s a two-time thing, and it’ll never happen again.
The third time he goes to Kyo’s hotel room, he knows he’s reached the point of no return.
Something changed after Chizuru lost her powers. Something in their dynamic wasn’t quite the same after that, and then Iori had lost his own abilities, and things became even more strange. To his knowledge, most people didn’t sleep with their sworn rivals.
They didn’t do it regularly. Iori had barely sought Kyo out since losing his flames, and as such, had only seen him during the tournaments. But the first time they did it was before he lost his flames, when he had teamed up with Kyo and Shingo. They didn’t talk about it, and Iori was content to keep it that way… until it happened again, of course.
At the next tournament, he found himself outside Kyo’s hotel room in the middle of the night. And for some reason, the other man let him in. Once again, they didn’t say anything about it, and Iori was fine with that. But then it happened again, towards the end of the tournament… and Iori knew there was no going back. After that, he didn’t encounter the brunette again. For once, he made it a point to not stalk Kyo.
“I can hear you thinking,” Mature says. He glances at her. She’s wearing an expensive nightgown (purchased with Iori’s credit card) and sipping a glass of wine. Vice is in the bathroom, taking a bath. Iori has no idea why they have to invade his room when they have their own, but he doesn’t feel like kicking them out.
“What’s on your mind?” She puts her magazine aside, bringing the glass to her lips.
“Nothing,” he answers, and looks away. Iori is very careful with what he tells them. Mature and Vice have a way of getting under his skin, and his fuse with them is even shorter than it is for the average person. And yet, he tolerates them for some reason.
“Are you nervous for the tournament?”
“Why would I be?” He scoffs.
“I don’t know,” Mature shrugs, “you don’t have your flames.”
Iori flips his hair and glares at her. “I fought just fine without them at the last one.”
Vice chooses that moment to emerge from the bathroom.
“Darling, have you seen my— oh! There it is,” she crosses the room and picks up a bottle of lotion (also bought with Iori’s credit card). “I’ll be done in a few minutes.”
Mature nods and takes another sip from her glass. Iori wonders if alcohol has any effect on her, since she’s undead.
“Well, whatever it is, don’t think too hard about it. Need to be at your best if you want to defeat Crimson.”
Iori nods. The tournament doesn’t begin for a few days, but he’s always preferred to arrive early. Jetlag isn’t something he wants to deal with when he has to fight. There are a few others here, but Kyo won’t arrive until tomorrow.
The thought of Kyo fills him with… something. Not quite dread, and not quite excitement, either. He can’t decide whether he wants to see the man or not.
After Vice exits the bathroom, she and Mature declare that it’s time for bed— though, Iori’s not even sure they need to sleep. He attempts to kick them out of his bed, but gives up quickly when Vice grabs him around his middle and threatens to throw him off the balcony. Iori begrudgingly gets in next to them, though he turns his back to the two women and stays as far away from them as he can. He’s too stubborn to leave or sleep on the couch— it’s his room, dammit.
Sometimes, Iori wishes they had stayed dead.
Kyo’s arrival brings many, many people to the hotel. Fans wanting autographs, reporters wanting a statement, as well as photographers capturing his every move. Iori hates it. They know to stay away from him, but it doesn’t stop them from trying every now and then. Luckily, Kyo is more easygoing, and he’s able to weave his way through the crowd without having to threaten to set them on fire.
Iori avoids going out until they’re gone. His presence will only cause more chaos. Instead, he goes to the roof for a smoke, and doesn’t return until Vice sends him a message that she and Mature want to go out to dinner. Of course, Iori has to pay, since the undead have no use for money. He returns to his room to get dressed and then goes to the lobby.
Kyo is there. He's sitting on one of the sofas while Nikaido is showing him something on his phone. Daimon is nowhere to be seen. Iori knows his gaze is burning holes into the back of Kyo's head, but he doesn't care if anyone notices. Most of them will think he's glaring at Kyo with hatred.
"Iori," Mature approaches him, "quit staring at him."
Iori turns and glares at her. "Don't tell me what to do."
Vice rolls her eyes. "Save it for the tournament, dear. No need to cause a scene here."
"I'm not causing a scene," Iori says through gritted teeth. "Will you two stop–"
"So, where shall we go for dinner? There's that cute little place up the street that we wanted to try. Or we could go to the high end place by the river."
Iori lets his shoulders drop as they carry on like he's not there.
...why couldn't they have stayed dead?
He receives a text during dinner. He stares at it for so long that Mature and Vice have to remind him to eat, or else his dinner will get cold.
Iori doesn't protest. He sets the phone aside and continues cutting his steak with shaky hands. This doesn't go unnoticed by Mature and Vice either. They don't say anything, but they watch him a little more closely for the rest of the night. Very few things upset Iori like this. Usually, he's good at covering it up.
Iori doesn't say much for the remainder of their outing. He goes back to his room silently while Mature and Vice decide to browse the hotel's shop. Kyo is no longer in the lobby, but Iori knows where he is.
He unlocks his phone. Clicks on the instant messaging app.
314
Iori stares at the number. He already knew there was no going back, but… he's never been invited like this.
He gets up, body moving automatically before he can think about his actions. He grabs his wallet and goes out the door, grateful that Mature and Vice haven't returned yet.
Iori decides to take the stairs. It's just one floor, but being in the elevator by himself will make him restless.
He's standing in front of a door that reads "314." Iori’s not sure how much time he spends staring at it, but eventually, the door opens. Kyo is startled, stumbling back as he sees Iori, but he quickly regains his composure.
“Hey,” he says. Iori doesn’t reply, just gives the man a blank stare.
Kyo steps aside, gesturing for him to come in. Iori once again feels like his body is moving on autopilot.
They don’t make small talk. Just undress and move to the bed. Iori prefers it that way, and so does Kyo.
He returns to his room later in the night, when everyone else should be asleep… except for Mature and Vice, of course.
“And where have you been?” Vice asks as he enters. She raises her eyebrows when she sees the marks dotting his neck.
“Looks like someone was having fun. And without us, too,” Mature chuckles.
“Out. Now.” Iori throws his shirt at them as he makes his way to the bathroom. “If you’re not gone within the next five seconds—”
“You’re no fun, Iorin,” Mature shakes her head. “We’ll be back later.”
Iori sleeps restlessly that night. He tries to think about his team's strategy, but his thoughts keep turning to a certain brunette.
XIV
He doesn’t recognize Kyo at first.
His hairstyle has changed, he’s not wearing his signature leather jacket, and he’s just… different. Iori changed his style for the latest tournament as well, but he still looks relatively the same. He wonders what prompted Kyo to change his style so drastically.
Of course, it doesn’t really matter when he’s in the brunette’s bed. Though, Iori tries to push his hair apart, and Kyo stares at him with furrowed brows before laughing a bit, and only then does Iori realize what he’s done.
When had they become so intimate?
Intimate. With his rival.
Iori knows he’s making a mistake, but a small part of him doesn’t want to stop. It’s far too late to stop, anyways. Iori’s life is bound to Kyo’s, in one way or another.
He starts to pull his clothes back on, but Kyo grabs his wrist. Iori turns back to look at him. Kyo has a strange expression, one that he’s never seen before.
“Stay.”
He doesn’t even try to hide the look of utter shock on his face. Kyo stares right back at him, his gaze unwavering, and Iori feels like he needs to stay. Kyo turns onto his back while Iori removes his clothes again, and settles in next to him.
He’s unsure of how much time passes like that. Iori lays awake, but he doesn’t dare check if Kyo is awake. Even looking in the brunette’s direction makes him nervous. Eventually, the bed shifts, and Kyo is peering down at him.
“Yagami?”
Iori turns his head slowly.
“I’m getting some water. You want some?” Iori blinks and nods. He was expecting something else, but… maybe he’s overthinking.
Kyo hands him a bottle, cold in Iori’s hands. He twists the cap and drinks, a drop of water running down his neck in the process. He doesn’t miss the way Kyo’s eyes follow it.
Kyo takes the bottle from him when he’s finished, placing it on the nightstand with an unreadable expression on his face. Once again, it’s an expression Iori has never seen, and combined with his new hairstyle… it’s too strange for him. This whole experience feels like a fever dream, as though Iori isn’t really here.
While Iori is lost in his thoughts, Kyo moves closer to him. Iori can feel his warmth, the brunette’s body almost pressed against his, and Kyo leans in as though he’s about to kiss—
Iori jerks back abruptly, like he’s been burned. Kyo pulls back with a concerned look. They spend the rest of the night in silence with their backs to each other.
“Who do you keep running off with during the nights, Iorin?” Vice asks one morning, eyeing the marks on his neck. The tournament has started, and they’ll have their first match today.
“No one,” he replies, “quit asking me questions.”
“We’re just curious. You did this at the last tournament, too. You make it a point to be as unapproachable as possible, so I didn’t think you’d find a sweetheart here.” Mature flips her hair, a devious smile forming on her lips. Vice chuckles, taking a piece of sausage from Iori’s plate.
“It’s none of your business,” he hisses, gripping his fork so hard his knuckles turn white. “I am sick of you two meddling in my—”
“Calm down, dear, there’s no need to get your knickers in a twist,” Mature pats his arm. “Make sure he’s nice to you. If he hurts you, we’ll kill him.”
He stares at them, bewildered. How did they… how did they know it was a he?
Vice swipes another sausage from Iori’s plate. “You have nothing to hide from us. We’ll find out, one way or another.”
Iori swallows thickly. Damn these witches. Why did they have to come back from the dead again?
While Iori hopes that all the bullshit with supernatural beings will end one day, he knows it’s unlikely. Every tournament he goes to ends with some fight against a demented being trying to awaken Orochi or cause chaos in some way, and this one was no exception. He’s wounded, but it’s been a few days and he’s starting to feel better. Shortly after Verse had been dealt with, he received a message from Chizuru about Orochi-related disturbances. She booked him and Kyo tickets to Hungary, where they’ll deal with it and hopefully never see the snake bastard ever again. He isn’t surprised about it in the slightest. Iori always knows when the fucker is out and about. He was pleased to hear from Chizuru, though, and planned on catching up with her after they dealt with this.
For once, Iori has the room to himself. After he caught the witches going at it on his bed earlier, he dragged them out and shouted at them until his voice became hoarse, which drew the attention of the other competitors. He vaguely recalled Joe Higashi trying to make a smart remark, but the idiot was quickly pulled back into his room by Terry Bogard before he could say anything. Iori took great pride in his ability to make people think twice before interacting with him.
Tomorrow, he and Kyo will fly to Hungary, destroy whatever bits of Orochi they find, and return to Japan. And then they’ll continue their routine of sleeping together at the tournaments and not talking about it. Everything will be fine.
Except it’s not fine, and Iori is losing his mind.
He could give less of a shit about Verse and Orochi right now, because the only thing on his mind is Kyo fucking Kusanagi. The only thing that has been on his mind for the last week is Kyo fucking Kusanagi. The man had said a single word to him and sent Iori into turmoil.
Stay.
Why? Why did Kyo ask him to stay? Why did Kyo try to kiss him?
They’ve never kissed. Even in the heat of the moment, Iori has never placed his lips on Kyo’s, because the implications are too much to think about. They were never affectionate, but now, Iori finds himself thinking about it. Thinking about what it would be like to hold Kyo close to him, to kiss him, to love him—
He stops himself there. No. That… that’s not possible. It’s not possible for Kyo Kusanagi and Iori Yagami to love each other.
He repressed these thoughts and feelings for years, knowing that it was pointless, but now… now, Kyo has opened up a possibility, and Iori knows he shouldn’t latch onto it, but he can’t help it. He’s been alone for a very long time, and somewhere along the way, realized that he wants something more with Kyo.
It won’t happen. It never will.
There’s a knock on the door. It snaps Iori out of his thoughts. He’s gripping the bed sheets with so much force that his knuckles are white and his hands are shaking. Iori pulls himself away and checks the time. Half past nine p.m., a little late for a visitor, but it’s probably Mature and Vice returning for their evening bath. Once again— Iori doesn’t know why they can’t just use their own room.
He opens the door, expecting to see the witches, and nearly trips over himself at the sight of Kyo.
“Hi,” Kyo says.
“...hi,” Iori replies.
They stare at each other, because they seem to do that a lot, and Iori hates it because Kyo’s eyes are so beautiful, and if he could, he would spend all of his free time gazing into Kyo’s eyes—
“You saw Chizuru’s message, right?” Iori nods. “Just… wanna make sure Orochi isn’t bothering you right now. You’re okay, right?”
Iori nods again, though he’s puzzled. Kyo is concerned for his well-being? Or perhaps, Kyo thinks he’s going to go into the Riot of the Blood, and that’s why he’s doing this. To ensure that Iori won’t harm anyone.
“That’s good. Can I come in?” Iori steps aside and closes the door behind Kyo.
Soon enough, they’re tangled in the sheets, Kyo’s body warm on top of his. Warm. Kyo is never cold, unlike Iori, whose hands are perpetually frozen. The sun is a fitting symbol for the brunette, he thinks.
Though, right now, Iori’s body is just as hot as Kyo’s. The heat in the room is almost suffocating, but he doesn’t mind it. They’ve done this dance before, and Iori doesn’t want it to end. He’s so lost in bliss, in the feeling of Kyo being so close to him… it’s a rush of pure euphoria. It’s similar yet different to the excitement he feels when he fights Kyo. Iori prefers this, though. He prefers the warmth of their bodies pressed together like this versus trying to rip the other man apart.
Iori gets so caught up in the passion of it all that he doesn’t hear the door opening.
“I think the maroon suits you more, darling. Really brings out your— oh, goodness!” Mature gasps and drops her bags, dresses and lingerie rolling out of them (all bought with Iori’s credit card, of course).
The witches start cackling at the sight before them, of Iori and Kyo… doing that, of all things.
“We should’ve known!” Vice shouts, holding her stomach as she cries. “Of course it’s Kusanagi! Of course!”
Kyo quickly gets off Iori, and while he remains calm… Iori does not.
Iori is enraged.
Kyo watches with mild amusement as Iori kicks the sheets off and sends purple flames flying at the women, who dodge easily. He then picks up the coffee table and throws it at them, all while screaming incoherently. For a moment, Kyo thinks he’s possessed, until he hears Mature and Vice taunting the redhead.
“Come now, Iorin, use your words! What’s wrong?” Mature coos.
“FUCK YOU! FUCK BOTH OF YOU! GET OUT!”
By now, other people are beginning to poke their heads out of their rooms to see what’s going on. Kyo pulls his pants on and follows Iori out as he drags Mature and Vice to the door. He’s still nude, but Kyo worries that if he points it out, he’ll be on the receiving end of the purple fireballs flying out of Iori’s fists now.
“Iorin, this is no way to behave! After everything we’ve done for you, this is how you treat us?” Vice giggles as she dodges another fireball.
“Fuck you!” The redhead hisses, “and stop calling me that!”
“Can’t a guy take a nap around— oh, shit!” Terry yells, as the ends of his blond hair catch fire. Kyo is trying— and failing— to stifle his laughter now. At the other end of the hallway, he sees Benimaru, who shoots him a questioning look. Kyo shakes his head. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorframe, enjoying the show.
“What are all of you— oh my god,” King says, as she enters the hallway. “M-Mai, Yuri! Stop— stop looking at him!” She scolds the girls, who are very entertained by the whole scenario. King attempts to pull Mai and Yuri back into her room, but they resist.
“Stop looking at what? K’, what’s going on? C’mon, I wanna see!”
“Kula, get back in your room,” K’ hisses, trying to push Kula into her room while also keeping her eyes covered. Kyo feels bad, but not that bad.
He doesn’t really feel bad until Benimaru pulls out his phone, because he knows Iori will never be able to show his face again if this is made public. Before Kyo can do anything about it, King steps forward.
“YAGAMI!”
Iori briefly stops attacking the cackling witches and turns to her, practically foaming at the mouth. “WHAT, WOMAN?”
“You… you’re…” King looks away and gestures vaguely at him, her cheeks pink. “You should… put on some clothes…”
At this point, Vice and Mature are crying from how hard they’ve been laughing, but Iori can’t even bring himself to care. He quickly retreats to his room and slams the door shut, then face-plants onto his bed and buries his face in a pillow.
Why did he give the witches his extra keycard.
Iori regrets every decision that has led him to this point.
He’s too busy simmering in his own anger and humiliation to notice the bed dip next to him.
“Yagami,” Kyo says, gently shaking him. Iori responds with a groan that’s muffled by the pillow.
“Yagami,” Kyo repeats, and Iori bats the man’s hand away. He wants to be left alone right now.
Kyo’s hand returns, and Iori raises his arm to shoot purple flames—
“Iori.”
That gets his attention.
In all the years he’s known Kyo, the other man has never addressed him by name. Not once. It’s always “Yagami,” said with such disdain that Iori didn’t think Kyo was even capable of saying his name any other way.
Kyo has proven him wrong yet again.
“Iori,” he repeats, as the redhead looks at him with wide eyes. Kyo gently pulls Iori up until he’s sitting, and wraps his arms around him.
Iori doesn’t know how to respond, so he remains motionless. Kyo lightly rubs his back, and Iori melts into his touch. This is… what he wants, isn’t it? He wants Kyo to touch him and hold him like this… but why does it feel so strange?
Kyo pulls away, and Iori has to refrain from protesting. But then the brunette leans in again, as though he wants to kiss Iori.
And this time, Iori doesn’t pull away.
He lets Kyo kiss him until he can no longer think, wrapping his arms around the other man and holding him close. He doesn’t want to think right now. He wants to get lost in Kyo’s embrace and all the sensations that come with their dance of passion.
That night, instead of sleeping apart, Kyo rests his head on Iori’s chest, and Iori wraps an arm around him. As much as Iori wants to continue their habit of not talking about it, he doesn’t think he can take it anymore. He’s about to ask Kyo why, but the brunette beats him to it.
“Yagami, I don’t hate you.”
“What?”
“I don’t hate you. It’s… quite the opposite.”
“...is this your way of confessing to me?”
Kyo laughs, and Iori feels it against his collarbone. “You make me sound like a high school girl handing you a love letter.” Iori chuckles at the image that evokes in his mind.
“I don’t hate you either,” he says after a few minutes. “Quite the opposite.”
Kyo pulls away and looks at him. “Took us long enough.”
“Yeah.”
Iori sleeps well that night. Better than he has in a while.
Orochi had been dealt with easily, though the three of them were still uneasy. There was nothing they could do, though, and Chizuru suggested that they meet at the hotel’s lounge for some tea and snacks to get their minds off the snake bastard. She had chosen a rather upscale hotel, in a good location, too. Iori had never been to Hungary before, and they didn’t have to head back to Japan for a few more days. Chizuru claimed that she wanted to stay and ensure nothing happened, but Iori had a feeling that she just wanted a vacation. He wouldn’t argue, though. He and Kyo could use a vacation as well.
While Chizuru and Kyo were loading up their plates with sweets, Iori was sitting on a plush chair near the windows. The view outside was incredible, if a little cloudy. Kyo and Chizuru returned, taking their seats across from him. Chizuru offered Iori a few confections from her plate, which he took.
“What’s with the new hairstyle?” She asked, turning to Kyo. He shrugged.
“Just wanted to try something new.”
Chizuru sipped her tea, glancing between the boys.
“Anything new with you, Iori?”
“Released a new album a few months ago.” Iori picked up his cup and looked into it. He wasn’t really a tea person, but Chizuru insisted that he would like this particular blend.
She nodded. “I listened to it. Your band is pretty good. I’d like to attend one of your concerts sometime, if that’s okay.”
Iori was surprised, but he took it in stride. It wasn’t the first time Chizuru tried to involve herself in his life, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last.
“I’ll look forward to seeing you there,” he said. Chizuru gave him a smile and went back to her tea.
Kyo got up and went to get more sweets. By the time he returned, Chizuru had finished her tea, and she set the cup down gently. She cleared her throat and looked at Kyo, then Iori.
“So… King and Mai told me that something… interesting happened at the hotel. Something that involved you two.” Iori’s face immediately colored, while Kyo snickered. The devious smile on Chizuru’s face widened.
“Care to elaborate on that?”