[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.

Comments

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

When Sora replies, it activates a slight twitch in Kaito's right eyebrow, like simply avoiding Sora's voice was giving him the control he needed to deal with this. Up until that moment Kaito hadn't been quite sure what to do with the trash once they'd reached this far. He'd already begun to realize he just might not have the stomach to fuck a Storm Rider after all, no matter how much of a game they made it. But now a new idea comes to him and he tilts his head at Sora, wishes he was sucking on a cigarette, and begins to undo his own belt.

"Try and keep that up, then."

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

For all that a lot of his retardation is quite genuine, Sora is generally perceptive of his effect on the things around him. And it's not as though Kaito's rage is exactly hidden and secret. He pillows his left arm behind his head, his other arm flopping across his chest, as he watches Kaito, smirking slightly.

"I'll give it a shot, man. Can't guarantee nothin', of course, but ain't no harm in tryin'."

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

"Don't bank on old sayings, trash." The tick is there again, but it's the only real sign he's Sora's words leave any impression on him at all. His voice is cool. He slides his own belt out their loops, folding it up in his hand, and with his other reaches down to the hem of Sora's pants. The button and zip there are undone without preamble, and Kaito shifts his weight to his knees, lifting off the bed so he's no longer sitting on Sora.

"There's harm in everything. Roll over."

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

He sits up as much as he's able, propping himself up on one elbow, his legs pulling up a little to give him better leverage.

"What if I don't wanna?"

[no-safe-word.livejournal.com]

Kaito doesn't change his position, just waits. One thumb rubs absently over the braided snakeskin of his belt. "Quitting?"

[inheritthewind.livejournal.com]

"Like hell."

The answer comes quick, with the cheerful confidence of someone not in a position to lose anything. Once his brain actually catches up to his reflexive stubbornness, the consideration of how much he actually wants to be putting his back to the fucking crocodile gives him a bit of contemplative pause. It's not as though he doesn't know what he'll have behind him, he decides, and it's also not as though he couldn't take the fucker on with one hand tied behind his back -- not that he'll be volunteering that.

Besides, he wants to see what happens next.

So, giving Kaito a little shrug, he smoothly flips himself over onto his stomach, propping his chin up in one hand, his other arm tucked slightly underneath himself.