Archive of Our Own

Plans had always been Jouno’s forte. That was why they worked so well, it wasn’t something hard to acknowledge even to someone as stubborn as Tecchou. Despite all his cruelty and unexplainable pull towards violence, everything Jouno did carried a sense of necessity. That laid at the base of his work ethic and, for someone like Tecchou who cherished rules above anything else, it was hard not to respect that. The drive to succeed in every single task Jouno was entrusted with – in that aspect, they were similar, though Tecchou would rather break his sword than admit that.

Irresponsibility was simply not a trait Saigiku Jouno possessed. Because of that, all his schemes were always nearly impeccable, granting easy victory and tremendous success. Ever since they started working together, it had been like that – Jouno would begrudgingly share his plan with Tecchou, and Tecchou would execute it with little complaint. He would draw a line at unnecessary abuse, and Jouno would say that Tecchou’s sense of morality always made things harder; almost as if he hadn’t anticipated the objection from the beginning. They knew each other well enough to foresee what the other would say.

So yes, Tecchou had no qualms about leaving strategies to Jouno. It worked for him just fine; his importance laid in physical combat, and he was very proud of that. It earned him the title of the strongest Hunting Dog after all.

Being unable to plan beforehand has never really presented itself as an obstacle to Tecchou anyway. Until recently. And he suffered greatly from that.

Of late, he wished he had paid more attention to Jouno's plotting, to the way he designed his schemes, to the details that made his arrangements complete, to the steps he took to ensure that each procedure ran seamlessly. Perhaps, had Tecchou been more observant, he would have had no trouble turning his own intents into action.

Maybe he would be more prepared then. Maybe he wouldn’t feel like he was losing footing every time the desire surged through his body, and his muscles twitched to move while his mind refused to obey.

“You’re exceptionally quiet today, Tecchou-san,” Jouno pointed out, carefully peeling his pear. 

He maneuvered his knife with deliberate slowness and precision to avoid cutting too deep. Everything Jouno did was thoughtful. Sometimes the intention was simply beyond Tecchou’s vision.

“Don’t you always complain that I’m too loud?” he replied without missing a beat.

Jouno clicked his tongue; a long stripe of pear skin fell onto the plate. 

“Sadly, you are loud whether you speak or not,” he grumbled, putting down the knife. “At least when you talk, I have some sort of control over your fatuousness. And before you say anything, yes, it does concern me when we are on duty.”

Tecchou’s eyes immediately shot to the sight outside the window. The dark building on the opposite side of the street, hollow eye-like holes where the windows should be, and metal door with several warning signs that promised death to whoever dared to enter the facility. No trace of bloodthirsty criminals running an illegal syndicate.

“I am cautious,” he assured, turning his attention back to Jouno.

“Your mind’s elsewhere.”

“You can’t know that,” Tecchou argued, instantly realizing his mistake. He should have said that’s not true. He should have denied it. He did not.

Satisfaction pulled Jouno’s lips into a smile.

“I can hear you losing your focus, Tecchou-san.”

“That’s a lie.”

Jouno shrugged, “Maybe, or maybe not. It doesn’t matter right now anyway,” he picked up the knife again and started cutting the pear into identical slices. “You admitted it. So care to share, Tecchou-san, what’s on your mind? The sooner we deal with your distractions, the better.”

Tecchou shifted his weight from foot to foot, the wall against his arm serving as much-needed support. His nerves were spiked, the uncertainty coiling beneath his skin. He wished he was better at making plans. Perhaps, was that the case, he could fool himself that he was sure of what he was doing. He was taught to follow orders, never had the space to develop a sense of autonomy, never had a full reign over his own choices. His own feelings never played a big role in his life. There was no need to acknowledge them until recently. But this? This was his to deal with.

“I was thinking–”

“Ah! Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Tecchou-san!” Jouno quipped cheerfully.

Tecchou felt the annoyance rise in him like a wave. In the past, he used to sigh, or at least silently click his tongue, but very early on he learned that Jouno could easily pick out those quiet displays of irritation. He would find great satisfaction in hearing them, so Tecchou restrained himself from bodily reacting altogether.

“But you’ve just asked what was on my mind,” he replied instead, his voice flat, completely unimpressed.

Jouno smugly pointed a knife at him. One of the slices of pear was proudly speared on its sharp tip.

“Precisely.” He grinned. “I haven’t mentioned anything about thinking,” he explained and snickered utterly proud of himself.

The corners of Tecchou’s mouth twitched a little. He would never describe Jouno as frivolous or, god forbid, a light-hearted person but there were moments and conversations that reminded him that there was some sort of brightness to him. It was usually heavily layered with something awful, rotting, and sinister. Jouno’s jokes were almost exclusively mean and cruel but, what Tecchou realized after an embarrassingly long period of time, the humor behind them was weirdly pure. Jouno found genuine, almost child-like, pleasure in jibing. At first, Tecchou found it repelling, but with time, it became strangely endearing when directed at him. In his wildest dreams, he thought – perhaps this is how Saigiku Jouno displays affection. Perhaps, just like Tecchou, he has never learned how to do it correctly.

He watched Jouno pluck the pear from the knife and plop it straight into his mouth with one fluid gesture. The nighttime must have made Tecchou’s sight not as keen as usual because, for a split second, it almost looked like Jouno’s fingers purposely lingered on his lips.

Tecchou averted his gaze, glancing outside. Nothing changed. The same abandoned building, the same emptiness. There was no guarantee that the criminals would even show up today. Jouno and Tecchou were sent here due to the shortage of the staff. Usually, a job like that would be way below their qualifications. Tecchou didn’t necessarily mind. Years spent in the military wrung the sense of boredom out of him. Not to mention that…

He gripped the hilt of his sword to anchor himself.

“I was wondering if I could be a gentle person,” he said finally, painfully aware of how calloused his fingers felt against the smooth leather wrapped around the hint.

He saw Jouno’s bewilderment, even before the knife slipped out of his hand and fell, with a loud clatter, onto the concrete floor. Self-awareness made Tecchou feel a little hot beneath his collar as he watched Jouno wince at the sound before he slowly leaned down to pick up the utensil. His back curved slightly, and then, as he straightened up, so did his lips – corners turning upwards, the stubborn line of his mouth falling into a smirk. 

“Gentle?” Jouno echoed, and a fresh dose of unease flooded Tecchou’s veins. He had trouble figuring out his own feelings ever since he could remember; distancing himself as much as he could. But Jouno… Jouno always made Tecchou feel intensely. 

“Yes.”

Jouno snorted. This time, amusement rang clear in his voice – loud and sharp like the sound his bell-shaped earring made on a windy day.

“Tecchou-san, let me put it plainly for you.” He raised his hand and fitted it beneath his chin. He often did that when his speech turned preachy. “Maybe you’ve heard of this saying… to be like a bull in a china shop?” he asked and, without waiting for a reply, continued, “Tecchou-san, you are the bull.”

Tecchou frowned, “I’m not clumsy.”

Jouno huffed with amusement, “I can’t believe I have to explain this to you.” He plopped another slice of pear into his mouth. “You lack the basic understanding of human emotions, Tecchou-san. You read into things way too literally. How could you be gentle, cautious, if you constantly misread people’s behavior and feelings?”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, really?”

“I can read you just fine, Jouno.” Or so Tecchou believed. But now that Jouno’s hand halted, his fingers hovering above his third slice of pear, Tecchou was no longer so sure.

If he didn’t know better, he would say that Jouno was caught off-guard by this statement. If he was more skilled, he would try deciphering Jouno’s expression. But the moment was over before Tecchou as much as blinked; Jouno’s face once again schooled into the cold amusement that he displayed oh-so-often.

“I sincerely doubt it,” Jouno replied, at last, cutting the slice in half. “Understanding each other at work is different than understanding each other emotionally.” He once again dragged the knife’s edge between the newly-made slices, as if he wanted to make sure they were completely separated. “At the end of the day, don’t you consider us strangers to each other?”

Strangers to each other. The way it sounded made Tecchou uncomfortable. He found it hard to name people with whom he was relatively close. Concepts like family and friendship had always been a little foreign to him, exotic in their idyllic nature, magically distant. He thought of human relations as a complex network of connections – some overlapping, others leading to dead ends. The military had always been much simpler in its structure; it reminded him of a ladder rather than a spiderweb. 

With Jouno however… He could predict what Jouno would do or say in most situations. Even his menacing behavior followed a certain pattern that Tecchou slowly started to memorize. Did it not mean that he could understand him well? Did it not make them something closer than strangers?

Tecchou frowned, once again taking a mental step back and revising his feelings. It had always been challenging to him, as someone who learned how to tune out his emotions pretty early on in his childhood. Had he been reading it wrong all along? The way his eyes always seemed to find Jouno. The way his fingers twitched to hand Jouno his hat when he was leaving the interrogation room. The way his lips itched upwards whenever he managed to annoy Jouno. All this time, he had thought that–

“What got you thinking about your supposed gentleness, anyway, Tecchou-san?”

“Oh,” Tecchou blinked, crossing arms over his chest, “I was thinking about love.”

Perhaps it was the darkness of the room that emphasized all the sounds, or maybe Tecchou was simply attuned to listen to every single noise that Jouno made, but he could have sworn that he heard a rush of air slipping past Jouno’s lips.

“Love?” he echoed.

“Mhm,” Tecchou hummed, completely unabashed.

Mindful not to make a sound, Jouno carefully put his knife back on the table. The blade glinted shortly as its edge caught the moonlight; for a moment, it looked like it was made of white gold. For a moment, it took the color of Jouno’s hair. Tecchou looked away.

“Love,” he repeated.

Jouno folded his hands beneath his chin.

“Dear god, Tecchou-san, we truly are strangers because I didn’t take you for a romantic person,” he commented, voice bright but at the same time thick with sarcasm.

“I’m not romantic,” Tecchou admitted, nothing but honest.

“And yet here you are cluttering your head with such concepts,” Jouno waved him away. He didn’t say anything more for a while, seemingly in thought, when suddenly his smile widened, splitting his face; his teeth sharpening and his expression darkening with mischief. “But why, Tecchou-san, if you’re not romantic then what could be the reason for such musings? Could it be that you find yourself in love?” 

Anyone other would be offended by the obvious mockery in Jouno’s voice but Tecchou had spent enough time working with him that it hardly affected him these days. It was not Jouno’s malice that put him on the edge; it was his own feelings.

Tecchou gazed outside. He wished he was brave enough to look at Jouno right now.

“I don’t know,” he replied truthfully.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jouno scoffed with disbelief.

Tecchou sighed and leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on the exit of the street.

“It means just that.”

Jouno snorted, “Then you are even more emotionally constipated than I thought,” he said, and Tecchou assumed it was the end of the conversation but, after a moment, Jouno continued. “I can’t believe I’m asking you this, Tecchou, but how exactly do you imagine being in love?”

Tecchou swallowed the lump at the back of his throat. His heart was pounding inside his chest heavily, even if its rhythm was stable – each beat felt like a drum. He licked his lips and shook his head.

“I think I would want to be gentle around this person,” he confessed.

“Ah,” Jouno hummed. He moved, crossing his legs, and rested his elbow on his knee. “Well, I don’t want to worry you,” he said, and the tone of his voice suggested that he absolutely did mean to worry Tecchou, “But you need a lot of practice if you want to be a refined lover.”

Tecchou’s nose scrunched. “That seemed troublesome.”

“Love means sacrifice!” Jouno pointed out gleefully, “Or so I’ve heard.”

The last part was what got Tecchou’s attention. He turned away from the window and looked back at Jouno.

“Have you ever been in love?” he asked, his stomach twisting into knots.

Jouno hummed again, lightly tapping his own chin. He didn’t seem surprised or offended by the question. It was to be considered a good sign – Tecchou assumed. Especially with Tecchou’s natural ability to annoy Jouno to no end.

“I don’t need to be in love to know how it works, Tecchou-san,” he said eventually.

Tecchou frowned.

“That’s not an answer to my question,” he pointed out, and Jouno grinned.

“But that’s the one you’re getting.”

It was often like this with Jouno. Where Tecchou was straightforward and open, Jouno liked to choose his words carefully. His lies were always convincing, sounding more honest than Tecchou’s truth. His half-lies always found confirmation in reality. That was what made talking to Jouno so infuriating sometimes – there were days when Tecchou wondered if anything that came from his mouth was fully true. That was why he trusted Jouno’s actions more. 

“Would you be careful around someone you love too?” Tecchou asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jouno laughed. “You and I are different. I’m very much in tune with both my senses and emotions, Tecchou-san. My understanding of the human psyche is much more advanced than yours. The way people behave and speak tells me a lot about their fears and needs alike. Both physical and emotional.”

“But what if they have a very good control over their body?”

“There’s always something that would betray them.” Jouno waved his hand as if he was completely dismissing Tecchou’s argument. He made a noise back at his throat and pushed his chair away from the table; little pieces of concrete floor and pebbles grated beneath his boots. “Let me entertain you a little. Come here, I will show you,” Jouno gestured at him to step closer.

Tecchou’s eyes darted to the building behind the window.

“But what about–”

“I doubt they manage to sneak right beneath our noses,” Jouno smiled sardonically, “That is if they even show up here tonight. Come on, you brought it on yourself, Tecchou-san,” he taunted.

Only because he was used to following what Jouno said, Tecchou took a step closer. And then another, and another. Each step he took, deepened the smile on Jouno’s face. Whenever he saw Jouno like that, Tecchou always felt a sliver of compassion toward the criminals who were brought before Jouno. Those whose interrogation Jouno personally oversaw or even conducted. Tecchou always felt a spasm of sympathy for them, because Jouno was nothing but ruthless in his search for truth and unshakable in his desire to prove his point.

His skin tingled a little as he stood before Jouno, who jerked his head towards the table. Tecchou rolled his eyes and pulled it closer, half-sitting on the tabletop. Unsure of what to do, he spread his legs a little wider and rested the heels of his hands on his thighs.

“I’m here,” he announced softly.

Jouno clicked his tongue, “Astounding observation skills, Tecchou-san. We are all happy that you are self-aware of your location. The city can rest peacefully, knowing that such a vigilant hound is on the watch today.”

Tecchou rolled his eyes.

“Ah!” Jouno gasped triumphantly, “Got it!”

“Got what?”

Jouno grinned and lifted his head a little, enough for Tecchou to see the satisfaction painted across his face.

“Your current fear,” he proclaimed proudly, leaning a little bit closer, the muscles of his back shifting beneath his uniform, his fingers clenching and unclenching as if he could hardly contain his excitement.

Tecchou knew what that stance meant very well. Jouno was out for blood, and he had just smelled its scent in the air. It was a good thing that when facing the storm that Saigiku Jouno was, Tecchou had always been fearless.

He bent down, angling his body slightly forward, and Jouno instantly moved away.

“What is it then?” Tecchou asked.

“You’re afraid that you’ll miss out the moment the criminals go inside the building down the street,” Jouno announced without a hint of doubt.

Tecchou shrugged, “Our mission is to catch them preferably bare-handed, it doesn’t count. You also don’t like the idea of them slipping away.”

“Don’t try to outsmart me, Tecchou-san,” Jouno raised his finger, frowning a little. “I was not wrong.”

“Guess you weren’t…”

“I don’t like your dismissive tone,” Jouno scoffed, “As if you could have done better with me.” He leaned back, crossing his arms on his chest and turning his head away. It made him look like a sulking child, it made Tecchou smile a little.

“I can tell what you are afraid of,” he said suddenly, even if the word closer to the truth would probably be ‘guess’. 

“You’re talking nonsense, Tecchou-san, you should get back to your station, watch the street, or your fucking moths, or whatever. I’m done entertaining you–”

“Physical contact,” Tecchou said simply. “That’s what you are afraid of, are you not, Jouno?”

There was a beat of silence, and even though it couldn’t last longer than a couple of seconds, it seemed to stretch for hours. Tecchou breathed slowly, carefully, staying rooted in his place, not intending to move an inch until he was told so. Jouno’s lips slowly pressed into a thin line; displeasure prominent on his face.

“You…” he hissed through his clenched teeth, and Tecchou realized that he wasn’t planning to deny it – something that Tecchou had been anticipating from the start. “Do you make it a habit to make wild accusations about your co-workers, Tecchou-san?”

“I’m not interested in getting to know other people.” Blood was rushing in Tecchou’s ears, he could almost hear the way it was flowing – waves and cascades of adrenaline flooding his brain and heart. Was he better at making plans, perhaps he would talk about feelings more subtly. More gracefully. With no harm brought to the others. But Tecchou was rough around the edges, unknowledgeable in the ways of the human heart. “You always wear gloves, you never take my hand when I want to help you get up, you always wince when the commander puts an arm around your shoulders… Why are you afraid of physical contact, Jouno?”

Jouno clenched and unclenched his gloved fingers. Tecchou could see the strained vein running down his neck; the way his eyelids twitched, and the tension gathering in the set of his jawline. He could also see the confession forming in Jouno’s throat. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed the saliva; the way his tongue darted to lick his lips. 

Tecchou waited. He was a patient man.

“It doesn’t scare me. It irks my nerves,” Jouno said slowly at last. “People are completely unaware of their bodies.” His hands balled into fists, clenching around nothing. “They talk so loud that it makes my head hurt. They smell so intense, reeking even of the most pleasant fragrances. They taste,” he grimaced, “I can taste them on my tongue sometimes. Salty and sour. Disgusting. And, of course,” Jouno scoffed angrily, “They put no thought behind how they move; thinking that their weight is welcome; thinking that the press of their fingers against my skin isn’t borderline painful,” he spat the last words out as if they were poisonous. Perhaps, they have been eating him alive from inside for a while. “It’s better if I keep my distance,” Jouno finished, straightening up. His fingers now resting loosely on his thighs. 

If Tecchou’s heartbeat was loud a moment ago, now it was pounding. He had suspected Jouno to experience other senses more strongly than others. He always moved differently, as if he was constantly aware of various aspects of his surroundings. Sensitive to the sounds and smells around him. Tecchou would have been a terrible partner if he had never noticed that; if he had never made adjustments to cover for everything Jouno could have potentially missed out. It was a silent agreement between them, to never address that.

But he had never thought that these sensations could be borderline painful. He looked down at his hands; mismatched, fingerless gloves, calloused fingers, and healed scars running over his skin. His heart dropped a little.

How could he ever achieve the gentleness required to touch Jouno, if his entire body wore marks of destruction and carelessness?

“You’re uncomfortable,” Jouno pointed out suddenly; his face was still pale.

Even if Tecchou denied it, Jouno would probably be able to tell. There was no point in trying that.

“Yes,” Tecchou’s voice was a little harsher than usual; heady with emotions that he displayed so rarely. “Not with you though.”

Jouno laughed quietly and sharply. There was no humor to his laughter.

“With whom then?”

“Myself.”

“Yourself?” Jouno echoed, “Well, that has been a long time coming.”

Tecchou bit the inner side of his cheeks. He had always spoken the first thing that came to his mind. Now though, it seemed important to choose his words wisely.

“Jouno,” he called, pitching his voice a little lower. Softness never suited his vocal cords right, but there was no harm in trying.

“What now, Tecchou-san?”

Tecchou licked his lips. They were dry. He could only imagine what an awful experience it would be for Jouno if Tecchou had ever kissed him.

“If I ever hurt you... Not just annoyed you, hurt you,” Tecchou said quickly, and Jouno clicked his tongue, “By the volume of my speech, or the way I grasped your wrist, or anything else… I want you to know that I didn’t do it deliberately. I would never do such a thing. I…” he breathed heavily, and forced himself to look directly at Jouno. “I want to be gentle with you.”

“You’re talking nonsense again.”

“I’m not,” Tecchou denied vehemently; the rooftop of his mouth was scraped red from the emotions bleeding through his voice. His body was simply not used to expressing so much in such a short period of time. “I want to be gentle with you,” he repeated, louder and firmer this time. “Not just because I think I might be in love with you,” his throat and cheeks burned, “But also because I respect you deeply. I respect you too much to hurt you. So if I ever am too much, please tell me so. I don’t want you to suffer because of my… clumsiness.”

If earlier Jouno’s cheeks were white as a sheet, drained by his tirade, now they were flaming red. Even if the light falling from the street into the room was limited, Tecchou could tell that their color almost matched the tips of Jouno’s hair. As if the embarrassment was bleeding through his body.

“Clumsiness… is not the word I would use in this instance, Tecchou-san. Seriously, what am I to do with you?” Jouno moaned tiredly as he tended to whenever he was fed up with Tecchou. This time though there was a bit of shakiness to it. As if he tried forcing his voice into normality. 

Tecchou looked down, his shoulder sagging a little. The table creaked under the newly added weight. Jouno sighed and put his hat down, carefully placing it over his lap, while his other hand ran through his hair.

“You think you might be in love with me?” he asked again after a moment.

“Yes,” Tecchou replied quietly, eyes stubbornly fixed on the tips of his boots.

“You’re not sure?”

“I’ve never been in love, I cannot tell.”

Jouno sighed again, “Look at me when you’re talking to me, Tecchou-san. How am I supposed to take you seriously?”

Tecchou’s head immediately jerked up. Jouno’s face was unreadable but not necessarily unkind or unwelcoming.

“Do you want to treat me… like that because of what I’ve just told you?” The corner of Jouno’s lips twisted when he spoke ‘that’ as if the weight of ‘gentle’ was too much to bear.

“No, I wanted that earlier too,” Tecchou replied honestly.

“And if I told you I don’t reciprocate your feelings? What would you do then?”

Tecchou had considered this many times in the past. He had included this possibility in every single plan he had so poorly put together. He had never known what a heartbreak feels like, so he thought – it would be easy to accept it. And yet, when Jouno asked this question, Tecchou felt a dull pain inside his chest. 

But first and foremost, he was a soldier. He could deal with pain.

“I would accept your answer.” Because hasn’t it always been like this? Jouno calling the shots?

“Alright then,” Jouno sighed, and his posture visibly relaxed. 

Unhurriedly, he lifted his chair and moved to sit closer, his knees fitting into the space between Tecchou’s legs. Jouno raised his hands and slowly tugged at the gloves protecting his hands. He pulled them off gradually, and Tecchou watched, mesmerized by the unmarred skin that was coming into view inch by inch. At last, Jouno leaned forward and put the gloves on the table, right next to Tecchou’s hip.

“You have your chance, Tecchou-san,” Jouno said, attempting to summon authority in his voice, “Treat me gently,” his voice lilted a little bit at the end, “That is if you can.”

It was an easy bait, one that Tecchou should no longer play into. But before he realized what he was doing, he was reaching out – his hands grasping Jouno’s, his fingertips slipping across the smooth expanse of skin. Jouno rarely yielded a sword, physical combat was not his forte, and his body clearly reflected that. 

“Your skin is so soft…” Tecchou marveled, grazing his thumb over the side of Jouno’s hand. 

“It’s called hand cream, you should try it sometime,” Jouno tsked, shaking his head. When Tecchou dared to look up, he saw a smile dancing in the corners of Jouno’s lips. Quickly, he averted his gaze, cheeks burning, a stupid grin across his face.

He focused back on the feeling of Jouno’s hand in his own. It was neither a small nor a frail hand. While Jouno’s physical strength was something he rarely used to his advantage, preferring to rely on his ability alone, or simply leaving that part of the job to Tecchou, he still rigorously attended training sessions. Tecchou lightly traced his index finger across the center of Jouno’s palm. He tried to keep a respectful distance between his own fingertip and the velvet of Jouno’s skin – he still wasn’t sure how much he was allowed to do. Only once, he dared to press his finger a bit harder, applying minimal pressure on the end of the heart line that ran across the palm. Jouno’s fingers twitched, and Tecchou quickly pulled his hands back, apology already tumbling up his throat.

“Don’t apologize,” Jouno cut before Tecchou even parted his lips. “No one is in total control of their body, even me,” he scoffed. “Better tell me, Tecchou… Where else would you want to touch me gently?”

“Anywhere,” he replied embarrassingly fast.

Jouno snorted, “As straightforward as ever, are we?” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Have you ever thought about my lips then?”

Tecchou swallowed the lump in his throat. He had. Many times.

Jouno leaned forward, crowding Tecchou’s personal space; his head angled lower, tilted to the side, bird-like, so that Tecchou could look at him from above. He watched Jouno’s eyes shift beneath the thin skin of his eyelids, he watched the shadows cast by his eyelashes drip down his cheeks, and he watched his cheeks pinken as he licked his lips.

“Because I have thought about kissing yours.”

The heart inside Tecchou’s chest hammered.

“Really?” he rasped.

“Really,” Jouno grinned easily, cocking his head from side to side. “I imagined that you’d be a rough kisser because you are rough in everything you do. I imagined you’d taste terribly confusing, so I’d have to kiss you long and slow to figure out which of your awful food choices I’d have to call out. I imagined you’d have no idea what to do with your hands, so you’d put them on my hips, and your touch alone would leave marks on the skin beneath my uniform.”

“I’d never–”

“Even if I wanted to?” Jouno’s eyebrows arched innocently, and a new splash of color exploded across Tecchou’s cheeks. “I’m not fragile, Tecchou-san, there’s no need to be gentle with me at all times.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Tecchou insisted once again.

“Oh, trust me,” Jouno’s hand rested on the back of Tecchou’s neck and yanked him down so that their faces were on the same level. Tecchou watched the words shape on Jouno’s lips as he spoke, “If you ever did, I’d have no qualms about chopping your dick off.”

Tecchou shook with silent laughter. There was no exaggeration in that threat, and Tecchou most definitely shouldn’t feel reassured by that but, for some strange reason, he did. 

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Tecchou asked with a little smile.

Jouno dug his fingers into Tecchou’s nape, pulling a surprised hiss out of him.

“I wouldn’t hesitate,” Jouno promised, “But now, you should really stop with your idiotic questions. I amused you with answers for long enough. Find another way of occupying your mouth.”

Tecchou’s eyes darted down to stop on Jouno’s lips. Their delicate curve, and sharp teeth hiding just behind the seam.

“Yeah?” he asked softly.

“Yes, dear lord, Tecchou-san, must I always spell things out for you?” Jouno groaned, readjusting his hold on Tecchou’s neck. His fingers were cold. 

“You always complain when I try to act on my own…”

Their faces were inches away now; their breaths mingling. The heat of the situation contrasting with the cold interior of the room.

“Very well, then. You must feel great pleasure in humiliating me, I guess,” Jouno’s nails were digging into Tecchou’s skin hard enough that they would surely leave tiny, red marks right above his collar. “Kiss me, Tecchou-san. And I won’t repeat myself.”

He didn’t have to. Tecchou was used to following Jouno’s orders without a question. Only because of that, closing the gap between their lips was easy.

Tecchou had never kissed anyone in his entire life, and he never cared enough to ask how it would feel. He only imagined kissing Jouno, and that fantasy alone always left his lips tingling, his heart hammering inside his chest. Secretly, in the darkness of his own room, he dreamed about the soft pressure against his lips, about the hot puff of air tickling his skin, the sensation intense enough to make him quiver.

The reality was different. His hands clumsily slid to rest above Jouno’s hips; his lips awkwardly pressed against Jouno’s. Suddenly, he was nervous because he had never thought properly about what to do to make the kiss pleasant, and he didn’t want to screw this up. And then, Jouno tilted his head a little, a silent gasp escaping his mouth, before he inched a little closer, allowing Tecchou to take his bottom lip between his own lips. Now, this was easier. The position allowed Tecchou to move his lips, and while he was sure that his technique was severely lacking, by the little noise that Jouno made – he seemed to enjoy it.

Jouno’s lips were warm, soft, and gentle; a contradiction to his personality. His thumb rubbed Tecchou’s neck as if in a quiet appreciation.

The pressure of Tecchou’s heartbeat against his ribcage felt violent enough to break bones.

He tried deepening the kiss, courtesy of instinct more than actual knowledge, when suddenly Jouno stilled, and then, swiftly pushed Tecchou away.

“Did I–”

“Shush,” Jouno hissed, cocking his head to the side, his eyebrows scrunched.

Tecchou waited, his hands still resting on Jouno’s waist. It was an awkward position but Tecchou was in no place to complain. Not with the solid heat of Jouno’s body beneath his fingers.

Eventually, Jouno clicked his tongue and pulled himself to stand up.

“There are five people in the building on the opposite side of the street, Tecchou-san,” he informed quickly, putting his hat on. “We can only assume that those are the criminals we are looking for.”

Tecchou immediately straightened up, his hands instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword.

“What’s the plan?”

“You take the front door, I will take the back. There’s no need for you to be quiet, there are only two entrances, and we’ll deal with them faster than they as much as open the fire. Okura will take care of the rest,” Jouno stopped at the door, the sharp edge of his voice softening a little bit, “And then we will get back to where we stopped, how does it sound like, Tecchou?” 

It was the first time Jouno had asked Tecchou for his opinion on the matter. The grip around the hilt tightened, muscles strung with excitement.

Tecchou always spoke his mind.

“I’d love that.”