There was a moment’s pained, stretched silence - and Atsushi realized, distantly, that Akutagawa had moved to stand between his spread legs. They weren’t touching, not yet, although Atsushi’s breath had quickened, his nerves rattling about as he tried to figure out what he had said that had set Akutagawa off.
Akutagawa wasn’t scowling, though; down to his ruffled shirt and trousers, his heavy coat laid across the other couch. He wasn’t entirely vulnerable, Rashomon could erupt from any clothing he wore, but there was a strange concession in the fact that his favored material lay out of reach, and Atsushi’s eyes widened slightly.
Do you understand, weretiger?
Atsushi swallowed as Akutagawa leaned in, one hand on the back of the couch, still not touching him. They stared at each other, Atsushi’s heart in his throat and something else bubbling beneath the surface. Not fear, not this time. “What is it you want from me?” Atsushi asked, and Akutagawa’s mouth quirked, drew into a tight smirk.
He did know. He knew it with the surety of blood boiling beneath his skin, but he wanted to hear Akutagawa say it, and not just take as he felt like. “Tell me.”
Akutagawa touched his face, grabbed his chin and was rough about it. Atsushi didn’t flinch away, couldn’t if he wanted to as Akutagawa stared him down. “Tell me,” Atsushi hissed again, and Akutagawa’s thumb brushed over his bottom lip, considering. “Tell me what it is you want, Akutagawa.”
“I want to possess you, weretiger,” Akutagawa said, was commanded. “All of you. Intimately. Completely.” He tugged on Atsushi’s chin, the smirk returned to his features. “I want the world to know that you belong to me.”
Atsushi bit Akutagawa’s bottom lip so hard he drew blood. “Then make me yours.”
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