[ His heart hammers in his chest. Sure, he knows about connections, but this? This is uncharted territory, and he knows that Akira has the upper hand when it comes to this.
And that... that makes him all the more nervous.
But he acquiesces anyway, closing his eyes as his hand tenses in anticipation underneath Akira's. ]
[Poor thing. He'll be gentle, alright? Gentle and slow in all the ways someone like Kurapika could stand to be more often.
The bed creaks beneath Akira's weight, a gradual shift that brings them closer, head tipped to one side so their lips puzzle together unimpeded. It's a ghost of a kiss, lingering but weightless, drawn out just long enough that their breaths intermingle and fan out across their cheeks. Just long enough to get a taste for one another.
Akira leans back, beseeching Kurapika in a whisper.]
Your turn.
[Yeah. Did Kurapika think Akira would do all the work?]
[ Even this, even the barest brush of their lips together is enough to make his head spin. The warmth of Akira's breath is all he can feel in this moment, the pressure of his lips almost nonexistent yet more than enough all at the same time. Is this what it's like to chase that connection?
Just this little bit is something he can get lost in, he thinks.
It's why he feels a sudden chill the moment Akira shifts back, and his eyes flutter open, his mind working overtime to catch up and understand what he's saying. ]
You're so annoying.
[ But it isn't as if Kurapika is going to disobey his request, shifting slightly on the mattress, its springs practically guiding him forward as he places a hand on the back of Akira's neck and pulls him closer. It's a simple press of their lips together, but it's a meaningful one all the same, soft and sweet in many of the ways Kurapika refuses to show. ]
[Annoying... Yeah, guess he is. Akira's been called worse, so he takes that one with a heavy pinch of salt. If he were truly so annoying, Kurapika wouldn't be kissing him, tugging him back into close proximity with enough gusto that Akira sharply inhales.
...Still, this is surprisingly gentle for Kurapika. A great deal more intimate than Akira was expecting. He doesn't pull back, but remains in the kiss and lets Kurapika take the lead in a different sort of dance. Tangle, intertwine, pause for breath. It's all pretty simple, and as smart as Kurapika is, Akira trusts he can stumble his way through every step.]
[ And stumble he does, parting before leaning back in at different angles in an attempt to figure out the best ways their lips slot together. It's as if he's trying to solve a puzzle through fitting the pieces together rather than using an image for reference, occasionally resulting in an awkward fit.
It's why he eventually pulls away a little bit more than usual, a slight huff leaving his lips. ]
["I can tell" are the first words that come to mind, but Akira doesn't have a death wish. He smiles, a little breathy.]
It's more instinct than anything. You'll get the hang of it.
[But he knows that's his cue to take over and offer guidance, hand gently finding Kurapika's nape to ease him back into the fray. Akira's kisses are soft and slow but with undeniable weight, the barest hints of airy gasps parting his lips at odd intervals.]
[ Will he? Kurapika isn't so sure about that, not when instinct is something he generally ignores. For what's supposed to be so integral to him, he has no idea how to utilize it.
But that's okay, he thinks, because at least Akira knows what he's doing. He lets one of his hands settle on Akira's shoulder, fingers lightly gripping at his shoulder as he parts his lips too, letting the heat of their breaths mingle. ]
[That's alright. If Kurapika struggles to get the hang of kissing, Akira will just have to kiss him more and more and more. Perfect solution right there.
But if you ask Akira, Kurapika's doing just fine. Between parted lips, Akira slips in his tongue, indulgent in the way he tastes Kurapika's mouth in leisurely, slow strokes.]
This is more than he anticipated, Akira's tongue in his mouth a strange but welcome sort of feeling. Kurapika does his best to match Akira's movements, but well, he can only be so successful.
Regardless, he can't help the way his breath hitches or his fingers curl against his shoulder, and definitely not the way he inches closer. ]
[That's good. Being unable to help it is where instinct comes in and the unnecessary thoughts fall by the wayside.
Truthfully, Akira hasn't been thinking for a while now. It's easy for him to set his wordly worries aside and let his body take over, lifting his hand from Kurapika's but going no farther than his waist, tugging him close to bridge what little distance remains between them.
His free hand falls from the soft ends of Kurapika's hair to drag his nails, featherlight, along his back. Up and down, up and down, encouraging goosebumps, encouraging Kurapika to think of nothing more than how good it might feel to let his body take the lead.]
[ Instinct. Instinct, instinct, instinct. It tells him to wrap his arms around Akira's neck to keep him right where he is as he shudders from the nails gliding along his back.
His head swims with thoughts that don't quite connect, that can't exactly form in the soft mush that his brain is beginning to turn into. Akira's mouth is so, so warm that all he can do is continue to press into that heat, despite whatever nerves or lingering anxieties he still might have. ]
[Instinct. Instinct, instinct, instinct. It tells Akira to palm the bed and guide Kurapika down against the mattress all the while keeping their lips entangled in their slow, meandering dance.
His brain feels fuzzy. His thoughts never seem to fully form, but again, Akira's gone well past the need to think anything through. They'll go wherever their bodies lead them, and if they venture too far, they'll simply stop. Easy as that. Whatever Kurapika deems to be the limit is what Akira will abide by. Until then... he'll help himself to him and fantasize about where this might lead them.]
[ He doesn't even realize he's allowing himself to lean back against the mattress until it hits his back, and it makes him pause, if only for a moment. To think he'd allow himself to be underneath someone else at all... he sincerely hopes Akira realizes this is a big deal for him.
But he'll allow this, too, for Akira to settle over him and for their breaths to intermingle once again. Kurapika cools the air down between them just a bit with a few chaste presses of their lips, but he'll easily part them again the moment Akira insists. ]
[And he does insist, but he'll push no further than Kurapika allows. If he gets his panties in a twist over this in the morning, he'll have no one but himself to blame.
While their lips move in sync, Akira's palm settles over Kurapika's chest. He... doesn't actually know if a man's chest is as sensitive as a woman's, but he can certainly find out, giving Kurapika's pectoral a cursory squeeze.]
That's a weird feeling, and one that toes the line between not that bad and extremely weird. There isn't much to squeeze there at all, though there is some muscle, and he ends up letting out a little mmph against his lips. ]
[That was a good mmph, right? Mmph (affectionate)? Kurapika didn't rebuff him or stiffen up, so... he's going to push a little further, grinding his nipple between finger and thumb.]
[ That really isn't so bad, even though it feels weird and Kurapika thinks it really might not do much for him at all, but he doesn't get a second to voice that thought.
No, instead his breaths grow ragged and labored as he reaches up to grab onto Akira's wrist, his grip painfully tight because he has nowhere else to channel the sharp, angry pain in his chest. It feels like his heart is about to burst right out of his chest, like his ribcage is about to cave in on itself, like something is clawing at his heart in an attempt to get it to stop.
His eyes are squeezed shut, even as he turns his head to the side to break the kiss, practically shuddering in pain. ]
[For all of a moment, Akira's convinced he did something wrong. That he hurt Kurapika, the angry fingers seizing into his wrist suggesting as much, but his instincts convince him otherwise.
Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. Akira pulls back, the pain scrawled over Kurapika's face.]
[ It takes him a few moments, a few more ragged breaths, before he finally opens up his eyes.
They're a bright red, the same scarlet that Akira saw a couple of weeks ago, only they're covering the entire of his eyes, sclera and all. It's an eerie sort of look, unlike the beauty of his actual eyes. ]
Akira...
[ Kurapika speaks through gritted teeth as he reaches up clumsily, trying to find Akira's shoulder, his hand landing somewhere on his bicep instead. ]
[There's nothing beautiful about the blood red eyes causing Kurapika clear and obvious pain. Akira sits up and anchors his palm to the broad of Kurapika's back, helping him upright.]
...Yeah, I can see that.
[This had to have happened on the mission. Akira's dagger hums, clattering against the nightstand, as he chants his incantation and attempts a healing spell on Kurapika.]
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And that... that makes him all the more nervous.
But he acquiesces anyway, closing his eyes as his hand tenses in anticipation underneath Akira's. ]
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The bed creaks beneath Akira's weight, a gradual shift that brings them closer, head tipped to one side so their lips puzzle together unimpeded. It's a ghost of a kiss, lingering but weightless, drawn out just long enough that their breaths intermingle and fan out across their cheeks. Just long enough to get a taste for one another.
Akira leans back, beseeching Kurapika in a whisper.]
Your turn.
[Yeah. Did Kurapika think Akira would do all the work?]
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Just this little bit is something he can get lost in, he thinks.
It's why he feels a sudden chill the moment Akira shifts back, and his eyes flutter open, his mind working overtime to catch up and understand what he's saying. ]
You're so annoying.
[ But it isn't as if Kurapika is going to disobey his request, shifting slightly on the mattress, its springs practically guiding him forward as he places a hand on the back of Akira's neck and pulls him closer. It's a simple press of their lips together, but it's a meaningful one all the same, soft and sweet in many of the ways Kurapika refuses to show. ]
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...Still, this is surprisingly gentle for Kurapika. A great deal more intimate than Akira was expecting. He doesn't pull back, but remains in the kiss and lets Kurapika take the lead in a different sort of dance. Tangle, intertwine, pause for breath. It's all pretty simple, and as smart as Kurapika is, Akira trusts he can stumble his way through every step.]
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It's why he eventually pulls away a little bit more than usual, a slight huff leaving his lips. ]
I don't know what I'm doing.
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It's more instinct than anything. You'll get the hang of it.
[But he knows that's his cue to take over and offer guidance, hand gently finding Kurapika's nape to ease him back into the fray. Akira's kisses are soft and slow but with undeniable weight, the barest hints of airy gasps parting his lips at odd intervals.]
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But that's okay, he thinks, because at least Akira knows what he's doing. He lets one of his hands settle on Akira's shoulder, fingers lightly gripping at his shoulder as he parts his lips too, letting the heat of their breaths mingle. ]
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But if you ask Akira, Kurapika's doing just fine. Between parted lips, Akira slips in his tongue, indulgent in the way he tastes Kurapika's mouth in leisurely, slow strokes.]
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This is more than he anticipated, Akira's tongue in his mouth a strange but welcome sort of feeling. Kurapika does his best to match Akira's movements, but well, he can only be so successful.
Regardless, he can't help the way his breath hitches or his fingers curl against his shoulder, and definitely not the way he inches closer. ]
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Truthfully, Akira hasn't been thinking for a while now. It's easy for him to set his wordly worries aside and let his body take over, lifting his hand from Kurapika's but going no farther than his waist, tugging him close to bridge what little distance remains between them.
His free hand falls from the soft ends of Kurapika's hair to drag his nails, featherlight, along his back. Up and down, up and down, encouraging goosebumps, encouraging Kurapika to think of nothing more than how good it might feel to let his body take the lead.]
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His head swims with thoughts that don't quite connect, that can't exactly form in the soft mush that his brain is beginning to turn into. Akira's mouth is so, so warm that all he can do is continue to press into that heat, despite whatever nerves or lingering anxieties he still might have. ]
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His brain feels fuzzy. His thoughts never seem to fully form, but again, Akira's gone well past the need to think anything through. They'll go wherever their bodies lead them, and if they venture too far, they'll simply stop. Easy as that. Whatever Kurapika deems to be the limit is what Akira will abide by. Until then... he'll help himself to him and fantasize about where this might lead them.]
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But he'll allow this, too, for Akira to settle over him and for their breaths to intermingle once again. Kurapika cools the air down between them just a bit with a few chaste presses of their lips, but he'll easily part them again the moment Akira insists. ]
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While their lips move in sync, Akira's palm settles over Kurapika's chest. He... doesn't actually know if a man's chest is as sensitive as a woman's, but he can certainly find out, giving Kurapika's pectoral a cursory squeeze.]
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That's a weird feeling, and one that toes the line between not that bad and extremely weird. There isn't much to squeeze there at all, though there is some muscle, and he ends up letting out a little mmph against his lips. ]
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No, instead his breaths grow ragged and labored as he reaches up to grab onto Akira's wrist, his grip painfully tight because he has nowhere else to channel the sharp, angry pain in his chest. It feels like his heart is about to burst right out of his chest, like his ribcage is about to cave in on itself, like something is clawing at his heart in an attempt to get it to stop.
His eyes are squeezed shut, even as he turns his head to the side to break the kiss, practically shuddering in pain. ]
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Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. Akira pulls back, the pain scrawled over Kurapika's face.]
Hey- Kurapika! What's wrong?!
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They're a bright red, the same scarlet that Akira saw a couple of weeks ago, only they're covering the entire of his eyes, sclera and all. It's an eerie sort of look, unlike the beauty of his actual eyes. ]
Akira...
[ Kurapika speaks through gritted teeth as he reaches up clumsily, trying to find Akira's shoulder, his hand landing somewhere on his bicep instead. ]
Something in me changed.
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...Yeah, I can see that.
[This had to have happened on the mission. Akira's dagger hums, clattering against the nightstand, as he chants his incantation and attempts a healing spell on Kurapika.]
How's the pain? Any better?
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But at that question... he shakes his head. ]
No. Nothing helps. Don't... waste your magic on me.
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[That can't be. That's ridiculous. How could there be nothing, nothing at all, to salve the pain?
Akira tries again to pour his magic into Kurapika, searches and searches for the origin point of his pain to no avail.]
—Damn it. How long has this been happening? Kurapika.
[Why didn't you say something sooner? Akira's mind races down a list of solutions. One of them has to work.]
I'll get Totsuka. He'll know a way to fix this.
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[ So, only a day or so. ]
It comes and goes with no real reason, and now I've a good idea that it's pretty random.
[ Since, well, he wasn't making out with anyone the last few times it happened. It doesn't seem to have a "trigger", so to speak. ]
I'll go talk to Tatara on my own.
[ Stay. ]
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You're staying right here. Did you forget that you're the one in pain right now?
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I didn't. I don't know the layout of the manor well enough to navigate it without sight anyway.
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cw eye horror just a blanket warning
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suicide ment
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