.

Miyavi was still sitting on one of the couches when Toshiya emerged from the office. Well, more like he was lounging--he’d slouched as far as he possibly could against the back cushions and had his feet propped on the coffee table.

“Aren’t we comfy,” Toshiya murmured, amused.

Miyavi let his head roll to the side, and he offered a grin that was halfway between bratty and lascivious, like most of his grins were. “How’d the meeting go? Boss throw you out on your skinny ass yet?”

“Not yet. What are you waiting around for?”

Miyavi shrugged, or at least attempted to from his slouch. The grin had disappeared, and now he looked almost morose. “Just, you know. Bored I guess. I actually haven’t worked in a few days.”

Toshiya got the uh-oh feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Yeah, business is a little slow now…” But it wasn’t just boredom that was making Miyavi stare at him with those too-hungry eyes. “What about that guy you’ve been seeing, Sakito or whomever?”

Miyavi’s sudden scowl told Toshiya all he needed to know about Sakito or whomever.

“Okay, okay, don’t get all mad.”

“Sorry. It’s okay. It was no big deal.” Again the attempted shrug.

Toshiya did a bit of quick thinking. “So you haven’t, uh—“

“Fucked,” Miyavi supplied helpfully.

“I was trying to be delicate.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, fine. So you haven’t fucked in, what, four days? Five?”

“Six days, eleven hours,”—Miyavi made a great show of checking his watch—“twenty-two minutes, and fourteen seconds.”

Toshiya leaned against the back of the couch. “Oh, the world is coming to an end! Miyavi hasn’t gotten laid in almost a week!” He pretended to swoon dramatically.

Miyavi didn’t laugh. “How long can you go without?”

Toshiya blinked, surprised at the question. It wasn’t one he’d ever been asked before, wasn’t something he’d ever really thought about. “It’s not like food or water or anything,” he said after a moment, feeling unsure. “I mean, it would suck to go without, but I could do it—“

“For how long?” Miyavi’s eyes were too intent.

“I don’t know! Forever, I guess.” He tried not to sound as confused as he felt.

Miyavi smiled, but it was sardonic, almost bitter. “I’d die, you know,” he said.

Toshiya’s uh-oh feeling made his stomach turn to ice. “…What?”

The younger man’s eyes had gone distant. “I can’t stop my power from building. I can’t even really hold it back. What do you think would happen if I never released it?”

Dread. “It would keep building up—“

“Till it drove me nuts or killed me, yeah.”

So this was the price of so much power, Toshiya thought.

“What’s the longest you’ve gone without?” Toshiya asked, feeling almost horrified.

Miyavi considered it. “Two weeks? About. Damn near drove me insane. I really thought I was going to die. Just, you know, explode. Spontaneously combust. Burst a blood vessel or something. It was like holding your breath for way too long, knowing that if you let go, you’d drown.”

Toshiya wanted to pet his hair, but he was oddly afraid to touch him, as if the other man were too fragile, would break at the merest brush. “Does… does Yoshiki know this?”

Miyavi rolled his eyes. “Yoshiki already considers himself everyone’s dad. Like I want him to get even more parental? I’m not a baby, I don’t need Papa scheduling my “feeding times” or what the fuck ever.”

Toshiya was silent for a long time. Considering. Putting everything together.

Finally he said, “Were you waiting out here for me?”

Miyavi was very quiet, very still. After a moment, he let his head loll back to gaze up at Toshiya through his lashes. His expression said it all. Lust. Need. Pleading. And an almost defiant sort of pride.

Toshiya stroked fingers through Miyavi’s unevenly-cut hair. It was soft, like a baby’s.

“Come on,” he said at last. “We can get some takeout on the way back to my place.”

They picked up Chinese food and walked over to Toshiya’s small but expensively-decorated apartment. They were both silent most of the way, but Toshiya could feel the other man’s tension. He wondered if they’d even make it to the food.

Toshiya keyed the door, and they both went in, careful not to walk too close or brush against each other.

“Nice place,” said Miyavi. His tone made it seem like he should’ve been saying something else entirely.

Toshiya swallowed, hard. “Thanks. Kitchen’s this way.”

The kitchen was clean and neat, decorated in cool shades of blue. Toshiya set his little white takeout cartons down on the polished surface of the table in the middle of the room, and Miyavi followed suit.

“So,” said Toshiya, “do you want—“

He never got to finish his sentence, because Miyavi was on him, all roaming hands and hungry mouth and desperate, desperate need. Toshiya ended up shoved against the table’s sharp edge, Miyavi pressing forward with his hips, practically humping him in his franticness.

Toshiya tore his mouth away from Miyavi’s, gasping. “Wait, wait, let’s not do this here—“

Miyavi was grinding against him, making it hard to think. “Fuck, fuck, I don’t wanna stop…” He tried to pull Toshiya’s head back down for a kiss, but Toshiya held back, making the other man whimper frustratedly. “Toshiyaaa…”

“Bedroom,” Toshiya said, firmly. He pushed at Miyavi’s shoulders. “I am not doing it on the linoleum. I just mopped.”

Miyavi made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Taking a step back, he grabbed one of Toshiya’s arms and began to practically drag him into the hall.

They only made it halfway.

“Unh, fuck, Miyavi…” Toshiya was backed against the wall, Miyavi pressed against him once again. The younger man was kissing his way down Toshiya’s throat, and at the same time working to undo the buttons on his pants. Getting the top one undone, he slipped a hand inside. Toshiya’s hips thrust forward, mindlessly. “God, god…”

He could feel Miyavi’s power, washing over him like the first too-hot spray from the shower. It made him shudder, made him want to scream and beg. He’d never been so hot in all his life. He felt like if he didn’t get to come soon, he’d die, burnt to death from the inside.

“Miyavi, Miyavi, I’m gonna… If you don’t tone it down, I’ll—“

Miyavi had gotten Toshiya’s pants undone the rest of the way, and was even now shoving them downward. He paused to look up, eyes heavy-lidded, almost sleepy looking. Dreamy. “That’s okay,” he said. “I want you to come.” His hand closed around Toshiya’s erection, tight, and began pumping slowly and deliberately. “And after, I want you to throw me down and fuck me.”

It was too much. Toshiya could see it in his head, and coupled with the feel of Miyavi’s hand on him…

He came, hard, seeing only white.

After, he shuddered and slid down the wall. Miyavi knelt with him, come-spattered hand held up in front of him. After a moment, the younger man brought his fingers to his lips. Began to suck them clean. Toshiya closed his eyes and said “Shit, shit, ohhh.”

“My turn,” Miyavi said, practically purring. He moved to straddle Toshiya’s lap, leaning forward for a kiss. Toshiya let Miyavi’s power pour over him—it was starting to feel less like scalding and more like a soothing warmth. As he relaxed into it, he could feel his desire rising again. Along with… other things.

Suddenly, the door-alert chimed.

Miyavi cursed. “Ignore it,” he implored Toshiya, eyes wide and pleading.

The chime sounded once, twice, again, urgently.

What if it’s Kyo? Toshiya debated ignoring it. Kyo would understand, wouldn’t he? But what if he’s in trouble?

Dammit.

He pushed Miyavi off, gently but insistently, ignoring the other’s frantic whimpers. “I’ll tell whoever it is to get lost, just be a sec.” He leaned in to give Miyavi a peck on the lips, but the kiss deepened seemingly of its own accord, and then they were making out again.

The door chime was now a constant background buzz.

Finally, Toshiya summoned the willpower to pull away. He got up before Miyavi could pull him back into an embrace, fingers fumbling to do up his pants.

Whoever you are, I wish dire hurting on you now… Grumbling, he went over to key open the door. “Look, I’m really busy right—“

He froze midsentence.

Kaoru was standing on his doorstep.

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