Floor 1, Room 3

[jokey]

AKIRA

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[revengier]

[ 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. ]

[jokey]

[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.]

[revengier]

[ This...

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. ]

[jokey]

[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.]

[revengier]

[ 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. ]

[jokey]

[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.]

[revengier]

[ 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. ]

[jokey]

[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.]

[revengier]

[ Oh.

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. ]

[jokey]

[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.]

[revengier]

[ 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. ]

[jokey]

[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.]

Hey- Kurapika! What's wrong?!

[revengier]

[ 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. ]

Something in me changed.

[jokey]

[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.]

How's the pain? Any better?

[revengier]

[ It takes a bit of effort to get Kurapika to sit up straight, and once he does, he immediately rests his forehead on Akira's shoulder.

But at that question... he shakes his head. ]

No. Nothing helps. Don't... waste your magic on me.

[jokey]

What do you mean, nothing helps?

[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.

[revengier]

Since we got back.

[ 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. ]

[jokey]

[Like hell he's going. Akira loops his arm around Kurapika's waist and holds firm.]

You're staying right here. Did you forget that you're the one in pain right now?

[revengier]

[ Oh. Well. He was planning on going another time, but he won't exactly protest and arm around his waist right now. ]

I didn't. I don't know the layout of the manor well enough to navigate it without sight anyway.

[jokey]

And you were going to stumble around on your own anyway? You stubborn ass.

[Tch, but it's that pigheadedness of his that Akira really admires. Kurapika is strong, even at times like these.

Inhale, exhale. Alright. If the pain isn't going to go away with any spell or medicine, then there's only one option.]

The pain comes and goes at random, right? Lie down for a bit. If nothing else, you should be careful not to strain yourself.

[revengier]

I'm not straining myself...

[ Not by choice, at least. The pain in his chest isn't something he brought onto himself, at least not intentionally. With a sigh, he moves Akira's hand off of his waist and collapses back onto the mattress, gaze directed up at the ceiling although he can't see it. ]

I think I got myself cursed.

[jokey]

[At least Kurapika isn't arguing against the need for rest. Akira gets to his feet and hauls Kurapika further onto the mattress, untucking the sheets, the bedspread, to blanket him in comforting layers.]

...A curse, huh?

[...]

Do you know when it happened? Did it feel like anything in particular?

[A cold, discomfiting breeze, perhaps?]

[revengier]

[ Kurapika allows himself to be hauled around, simply because he doesn't know what else he can even do. The blankets are nice, comforting in a way he doesn't want to think about, much in the same way he isn't thinking about how this bed smells like Akira. ]

...I touched that rock.

[ Go ahead, call him stupid for it. ]

[jokey]

You touched that rock.

[Kurapika. Akira heaves a sigh forcefully enough that the boy in the blanket burrito hears him loud and clear.]

You literally did this to yourself. You know that, right?

[revengier]

I know. I know.

[ Thankfully, Kurapika is used to doing stupid things to himself and fully accepting the consequences for it. This would be a lot harder for him to deal with otherwise.

But, that doesn't mean he won't wrestle one of his arms free and attempt to smack Akira... wherever the hell he is. ]

At least this is valuable information. We know what can happen to us now.