[AU -- *spoilers*] Sora/Kaito

[inheritthewind]

As it sometimes does come to pass, a counselor finds himself wanting a bit of time to himself, some time where he can let relax his guard a little and let the buzz in his head just sound itself out.

So that's why Takeuchi Sora is currently in an unoccupied cabin, one that one would assume is one of the outposts constructed by the camp patrols, given its smaller size and non-central location. Anyone who happened to walk in might not even notice him at first -- and then would only see a young man sitting calmly, presumably enjoying the peace and quiet.

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[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

With Sora apparently where Kaito wants him, Kaito takes the time to pull another cigarette out of the folds of his coat and place it between his lips. It was too damn bad he didn't have his handcuffs with him today, not that they would offer much in the way of security.

With one foot still holding the whip to the floor, Kaito uses the handle to push Sora's chin up. "Says the bastard that chooses to play this game."

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

"Well, now we're just goin' in circles, man."

The push was met with a little initial resistance, but he doesn't appear to be very concerned as he looks up at Kaito. In fact, if anything, he appears to have slightly relaxed.

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

"You think?" If something about what Sora said irritates Kaito, he doesn't show it in his expression at all, but the handle of the whip slides up and cracks across Sora's cheek. With his other hand, Kaito flicks on his lighter and takes a slow draw on his cigarette. "How long has it been?"

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

That finally brings one of Sora's hands up to rub his face, as he puts on a rather petulant expression.

"How long's what been?"

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

"Since you got laid." Kaito glances down at the floor around them, looking for debris and finding this area, at least, was clean of glass and nails. It was all scattered around the walls. He steps out of his shoes and kicks them off the side. "I figure, what makes a supposedly straight fucker like you so desperate he asks for this?" Letting one shoulder hang, Kaito lets the trenchcoat slide off his arm, after carefully slipping his lighter into his pants pocket. Then he switches the handle of the whip over to his other hand and removes the coat entirely, tossing it back on the bed.

Free of the hindrences of his coat, Kaito bend over until his face is only a few inches above Sora, almost seeming to examine him. "So you've had those legs how long now? And no one to share it with but the doppleganger."

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

"Not as long as you're thinkin', but too long since I been here. An' no need to be botherin' with no 'supposedlies'. Ain't got no problems in that area." He chuckles.

Arms resting casually on his raised knee, he'd watched Kaito's business with his coat carefully but without a great deal of interest. He looks straight at Kaito, however, a grin beginning to break out again as the police officer leans down. "One person can be plenty."

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

Though he couldn't really say the trash fucker's answer surprises him, Kaito still doesn't manage to keep the disgusted look from his face. He'd done plenty of inappropriate things in bed, but his own brother was never going to be one of them. And imagining two Takeuchi Soras going at it was almost worse than actually doing this one. Kaito winds his long fingers around around the whip where it just hangs down from Sora's collar and jerks hard, tightening it enough to cut off his air flow. "Grossing me out is definitely against the rules."

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

He gasps -- or whatever it is when your reaction is to gasp but there's just no air coming, the beginning of something that's characterized not so much by what it was going to be but by the brutality with which it was cut off -- as the whip pulls tight around his throat, fingers digging into his own pants legs to prevent any reflexive flailing. 'Guess I was hittin' a sore spot there! Sorry, man!' or 'Chill out, man, or somebody'll think you got somethin' on your mind' or 'Play nice, Kaito, 'cuz the only rules you got here are the ones I'm lettin' you have' are things that Sora might have said, were he able to speak. That clearly not being possible, what with him not being able to even breathe, he settles for a thumbs-up of the 'gotcha, boss' variety.

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

Kaito watches the reaction for a moment, Sora's 'surprise', the masked... something, irritation, probably, the final cheeky result. It wasn't exactly the sort of entertainment Kaito was generally interested in, but since he didn't have much choice of avoiding it, he wasn't going to miss the opportunity to see how many buttons he could find. Letting the cigarette hang limply from his lips, Kaito exhales a slow lungful of smoke somewhere over Sora's head before shifting his attention back down to the other. The hand holding the 'leash' releases it, presses the back of one finger against Sora's neck, and slides up. Curling the finger under the collar, Kaito has the option of pulling it away from the windpipe just enough to allow air. Which, for now, he doesn't bother to do. "So, Takeuchi Sora. How close have you ever been to death?"

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

Going without air for a short period of time isn't difficult. He is a king, after all, and to say that you don't get to be a king by being a slacker is the understatement of the year. But his mind goes into sharp focus and he's acutely aware of the seconds ticking away, of approaching that point where the loss of thought and strength just begin, and of how he'll fucking break Kaito's wrist and then loosen the damn thing himself when that point arrives.

In the meanwhile, though, he just puts on a slightly considering expression, then shrugs, as though saying, '...well, it happens, what can ya do?' The changing tint of his face aside, the only outward indication he gives of any sort of physical struggle is the grip of his hands on the material of his pants legs, which is gradually becoming more and more white-knuckled.

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

"This time," Kaito lifts his left hand up to remove his cigarette, and with his other drags Sora forward and up. "Will probably be different."

Pulling Sora up by the collar gives him that promised bit of air, still not enough to really qualify as breathing easy, but far more than nothing. Which makes it too bad it doesn't last, because little more than a second after giving Sora the chance to get some air, Kaito drags up the rest of the way to kiss him.

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

He inhales sharply, air rushing into his burning lungs not nearly fast enough in his body's opinion, as Kaito gives that pull. He hadn't expected to be given long -- but the kiss, that was a surprise. As he's yanked into it, his hands come up to slide around Kaito's waist as an anchor. And even with a whip tied around his neck, he retains the feel of someone accustomed to easy control... though that's another thing that he knows better than to expect.

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

Touching Kaito seems to also be against the rules, judging by the way that without diverting his attention from the kiss at all, Kaito jams and then twists the handle of his whip into the muscle that spans between forefinger and thumb. And as if in constrast to that offhand abuse, Kaito shows, at least for now, that he can kiss normally. Teeth, but nothing sharp enough to draw blood, pressure that felt like possession, but not a threat. His tongue runs along the warm insides of Sora's mouth almost as if it was something he actually wanted to be here doing.

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

His face twitches into some combination of a smirk and a grimace -- somehow, he'd been suspecting that to be one of Kaito's "rules." He yanks his one hand away, shaking it to try to relieve some of the stinging soreness. The other hand, though, he keeps where it is as he continues to kiss Kaito back, the fact that he isn't having his mouth fucking torn open yet being a pleasant surprise. He doesn't push anything with it, letting Kaito set the upper level of force for now, as his tongue occasionally brushes against the other man's, his entire approach almost playful.

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

While Kaito kisses Sora, he controls the flow of the other's air, pulling at or releasing the collar just enough to give the windpipe some room. Seeming to be experienced in how much can be held before the lungs are pushed too far. He parts the kiss at small intervals to give Sora the chance to make use of it. And between these tiny breaks, the kiss accelerates.

It's not passionate, either in hunger or in rage. And while perhaps teeth scrape a little harsher, there's nothing akin to Kaito's usual level of vicious cutting. It's a calculated ascension, aimed to feel good, tempt, please, and pull Sora further into it.

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

Even though he's not being left completely without air, the constant give and take has Sora drifting ever closer to light-headedness, which isn't altogether unpleasant -- though you can be sure that Sora does take good advantage of every chance to breathe that he gets. Had Kaito not been pushing things, Sora might have done so himself, the acceleration only feeling natural as the breathlessness increases.

And further into it Sora goes, eyes wide open (figuratively speaking, that is). The simple pleasures have always been an enjoyable pastime but never an ultimate goal and, thus, have always been just as disposable as everything else, in the end. Though he begins to lean a little closer and seem to be willingly going wherever Kaito is taking it, it's not so much falling into Kaito's pace as watching closely and carefully matching it.

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

It stretches out like that, making out in a way that was almost disturbingly calm for them. No blood, no lashings, no biting words or anything else. Kaito works the kiss deeper, perfectly aware of just how it was with Sora's oxygen constantly running on low, and gradually dwindling still more. When Kaito begins to feel his dying cigarette warming the backs of his knuckles, he casually causes the butt away and yanks on the leash around Sora's neck, cutting off his air completely, and breaks the kiss.

There's a pause, and Kaito meets Sora's eyes, then flick over his face and down. Gauging. One finger is still trapped beneath the collar, against Sora's skin, and was beginning to turn a pale blue, but Kaito ignores it and presses the thumb of that hand against the base of Sora's windpipe. Just a touch, the whip was already doing the work. Shifting, Kaito leans over to position his mouth near Sora's ear.

"Now, wait." His voice is soft and controlled and faintly interested. "If you think you can, Wind King."

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

If Kaito was hoping to see anything in Sora's eyes, he was out of luck. Closing off Sora's airway this time seems to have closed off his expression as well.

And it is different this time, with Sora having already been lightheaded for a while, the contrast in his consciousness growing between the increasing majority of things blurring into a fuzzy static and the few items remaining focused in almost painfully sharp relief. The threads of maintaining control, of not giving anything away unless he doesn't need it are still bright, with the touch of Kaito's thumb on his throat and the feel, more than the sound, of the voice so close to him cutting through as well. His body's ache to release its growing build-up of carbon dioxide is relatively soft at this point, but gaining volume, like the pounding of his blood in his head as his heart rate accelerates even more.

There's a certain paradox to waiting -- it's done for a separate final purpose and yet, if he were pressed, he'd have to admit to himself that it had its own sort of deliciousness. Largely, of course, due to the knowledge that the end would, in fact, come, and that when it did... that would be something to savor. And that shades his face with a faint smile.

So, for now, he waits.

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

Through the thumb against Sora's neck, Kaito fan feel the other's pulse, classically steady, no fear increasing the heart rate and running down what oxygen was left in the blood too fast. Beyond the finger and thumb, and Kaito's breath as he watches Sora's expression from the corner his vision, he doesn't bother with any contact. This wasn't submission or domination, not even really fucking yet, just a dare, and he was curious to see how far that would go. Fuck, the bastard might even enjoy himself, not that Kaito was interested in having anything in common with Takeuchi Sora.

He tugs lightly against the whip, not freeing up any air so much as posing a reminder that was there, and waits to see if the body wants to fight back.

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

The initial adrenaline rush has, in fact, faded, and left him calmer than he's been in a while. Because sometimes, everything is so simple -- just the immediate here and now, where the only care in the world is winning.

At the pull, he casts a casual look at Kaito's hand, acknowledging it in a good humored but patronizing fashion. The discomfort in his lungs is growing worse and the light-headedness has begun buzzing slightly louder, but at this point, it's nothing that he can't stand.

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

If Kaito minds the patronization, he doesn't show it. Just slips his forefinger out from under the collar and tugs the whip a bit to maintain the tightness. "Seeing spots yet?" The room was very quiet, with only one of them breathing. He straightens, casually lifting the ball cap from Sora's head as he does so. Not because it hid the man's expression when Kaito was standing, but it was ugly and starting to annoy him. He tosses it behind them on the bed without a second thought. "If it still hurts, you're not far enough."

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

He wants to ask Kaito who made him the king of deciding what was far enough, but, as before, this is one of the few instances ever that Takeuchi Sora has effectively been forced to shut-up. Instead, he settles for glancing over to his hat, shooting Kaito a dirty look of irritation in the process. Next time Kaito decides to mess with his clothes, he decides, the game is off and he's smacking the bastard.

In the meantime, the edges of effort just begin to show, as Sora has to stop his body from trying to take a breath that he knows won't be possible. And in his head, the steady pound of his blood flowing grows louder. The point at which he'd been planning on ending things might have been around here, he vaguely thinks. But pushing boundaries has always been a huge temptation for him.

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

In a way, Kaito is equal parts aware there is no reason he should be truly in control here, and disinterested in the fact. One thing the arrogant punks that made up so much Storm Rider trash never understood was that there were more forms of control than simply direct power. Strength, fear, loyalty, even a basic personality flaw made from too much confidence and too little stimuli could be a hold. Takeuchi Sora was tricker than some simply due to his overwhelming strength, and what might happen if the leash snapped. But the process of getting it around his neck was nothing new.

Kaito turns around, whip curled loosely in his hand, and goes to sit on the bed. He crosses his legs and watches. Wondering calmly if there was any chance at all the bastard would stubbornly push himself toward unconsciousness, and decides that's an impossible wish. He toys momentarily with the end of of the whip he holds, as if not sure what to do with it. Then, slowly, begins to reel it in.

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

It's a little surprising and definitely amusing to see that Kaito would turn his back to him, if only for a few moments. Particularly given the way that time was passing and how the other man had to know that there was only so much that he was going to take here. Then again, Kaito was always pretty damn brazen -- it was what kept him interesting.

The surprise is a small distraction, at least, from the increasing pain and the growing effort needed to keep control with the dwindling amount of oxygen. There weren't too many times in Sora's life that he had been pushed to feeling a burn like this, the kind that comes from running more than your hardest, feeling yourself being pushed to your limit and watching it not be enough...

He watches Kaito with an almost contemplative expression until the other man pulls on the leash. And, after carefully making sure that everything would be staying steady, he takes a step forward with his raised leg, then grabs onto the length of leash in front of him and stands up. Holding the length of whip -- not pulling, just guaranteeing that he has enough slack to remain standing -- he walks over to Kaito, then drops it, letting both hands dangle by his sides, clenched ever so slightyl.

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

It's not exactly an effort too keep a smile off his face, but Kaito almost wanted to. Roach on a leash, it was somehow fitting. And when Sora comes to stand over Kaito, clearly so close to an edge, it doesn't feel at all like he's the one trapped sitting on the bed.

Continuing to curl the whip up in his hands, Kaito follows the line all the way back up the collar, and runs his finger along it, nail just glancing Sora's skin. "Far enough?" He curls the finger into dig between skin and collar, getting himself a grip. "Need a break?" Eyes slitting, Kaito tugs at the collar. Not enough to unwind it, but enough to let air leak out of Sora's lungs.