[A Sex Therapist/Tsumasaki ni Kiss] Searching for Answers Title: Searching for Answers Author:trio Rating: NC-17 Warnings: sex, magic, shapeshifting, crossover (Tsumasaki ni Kiss and A Sex Therapist) Word Count: 2025 Summary: In the search for his place, Kyouya finds his way to Bar Cain. Author's Note: Tsumasaki ni Kiss was created by Fuwa Shinri, and A Sex Therapist was created by Kodaka Kazuma. Somehow, after reading Tsumasaki ni Kiss, I came to like the idea of this as a final touch for Kyouya's situation.
As Kuramoto Kyouya stepped into the bar, the paper with directions clutched in the fingers of the hand that rested in his pocket, he heard the faint chimes that signified his entrance to Bar Cain. The bartender looked up from the empty room, a serenely welcoming smile on his face. He wore glasses similar to Homura's, and for a moment, Kyouya paused, simply staring as rougher hair overlaid the smoothly-cut style the bartender wore. But it wasn't Homura, and after a few moment's hesitation, Kyouya stepped forward, moving to sit in the chair across the bar. "Always do this much business?" he asked weakly, brushing chestnut locks out of his eyes as he glanced around the empty bar. It took a few moments before he noticed the drink set before him, and he sighed, staring down at the familiar amber liquid. "Thanks." He sipped at it, still looking around the bar.
"Welcome to Cain," the host finally said, once Kyouya had settled fully. His voice was rich and smooth, elegant in inflection and once more reminding Kyouya painfully of Homura. As he leaned forward slightly, the inverted cross dangling from one ear glinted slightly in the bar's soft lighting, drawing Kyouya's attention for a moment. "Allow me to soothe your troubled heart and body." He bowed to Kyouya, piercing eyes staring straight at the man from behind wire-frame glasses, and Kyouya tensed a little, turning away.
"How does this work, exactly?" he demanded roughly, taking another mouthful of the brandy the host had poured and feeling the warmth slide down his throat to curl in his stomach. "I read that I could consult someone about my sexual problems, but there's no one here." Sitting with his back to the bar, staring out at the posh but empty room, he began to explain. "I can't have a sexual relationship with Homura. He loves Touji. I can't even begin to compete with that," he added, hating the way his voice sounded almost petulant. He'd seen the strength of Homura's feelings for Touji, the fire in his eyes and power in his soul coming to life only when Touji had been injured. And at that time, he'd admired it. But months later, distanced from the problem, all Kyouya could recall was the beauty of Homura's lean form, and the way they'd felt together.
"You don't have to compete, Kyouya," came the smooth response, and Kyouya frowned, looking down at his drink. It was incredible, how much this man sounded like Homura. "All you have to do is open your eyes to the possibilities out there. Perhaps you don't need to compete with Touji to win me..."
"That isn't fun...," Kyouya began, whirling on his chair in anger and freezing cold as he saw not the host he'd expected to but Homura himself in front of him. A shaking hand reached out, touching the dark locks of hair falling over Homura's eyes, and Kyouya's eyes widened. The same texture, the same color... "Is this some kind of joke?" he demanded, jaw setting as dampness welled in his eyes.
"No joke, Kyouya," Homura assured him, moving around the bar with a predator's grace and stepping up in front of him. "You came here seeking the answer to your problem. I'm here to offer it," he murmured, leaning into Kyouya, their lips just brushing as he spoke. With a hungry cry, Kyouya closed the distance, sealing his lips to Homura's as memories welled up in his mind. Unbidden, his hands slid over the warm body, finding remembered planes and muscles. It was something of a shock that Homura - calm, collected, distant Homura - embraced him back, hands sliding over his back as Homura held him close. Their lips met in another kiss, then another, as Kyouya tested for the reactions he knew he'd get.
"Homura, how...," he finally breathed, as Homura settled close to him, stroking his chest through his shirt. The question died on Kyouya's lips, and instead of pursuing the obvious questions, he was losing himself to the need for touch. "Let me...," he murmured, hands settling against Homura's crotch and rubbing the bulge found within.
"Enjoy," Homura purred, strong hands brushing his away before Homura was teasing his shirttails from his pants, sliding them up to reveal toned skin and muscle. Kyouya's eyes slid shut, and for a long minute, he basked in the joy of the touch. But when his eyes opened again, his hands moving to wind around his would-be lover's neck, he froze.
"Touji?" he whispered, and the man who had once been Homura, who had once been bartender Cain, looked at him in hungry need.
"I've been watching you, Kyouya," Touji purred, his fingers teasing a button free. "Ever since you first came to Homura's, I've been watching you." His hands dipped low, sliding into Kyouya's pants and tugging the erection out. "I've watched you and I know you. I want you, Kyouya," he murmured directly into Kyouya's ear, punctuating the soft statement with a nip against Kyouya's earlobe. "Is it really only Homura you've watched this whole time?" he continued, and as he spoke, the pants Kyouya wore were shoved to his ankles, and Touji knelt, strong hands reaching up to fondle Kyouya's erection with surprising gentleness.
Kyouya stared down at spiky, golden brown hair in shock, not quite able to believe what he was seeing as Touji leaned forward, licking Kyouya's tip briefly before pulling back up to stare at Kyouya. It was the same... that sharp-cut hair, the way the brown eyes meeting his carried a hint of humor about them. Kyouya tensed, the frustration and anger returning all at once before Touji slowly rose, the bartender's outfit somehow making those broad shoulders wider. "Kyouya," Touji murmured, stepping forward and wrapping muscular arms around him, and Kyouya wavered. He still wanted Homura... desperately wanted Homura... but this was warm and strong and for once, it felt so good being the one embraced. "Get to know the real me," Touji continued, his lips whispering the words against Kyouya's temple. Kyouya leaned into the chest, felt the smooth fabric of white starched shirt and black vest and the heat that was Touji against his chest, and he nodded slowly.
"Good," Touji rumbled in his ear, teeth nipping lightly at the sensitive skin before he moved back, steady fingers moving to undo the buttons on Kyouya's shirt. Each time he opened a button, Touji's smile grew a little more wicked, and when they were all parted, he pushed the material over Kyouya's shoulders, letting it fall behind him as he reveled in the bare skin. "Must've made a good host," Touji muttered, fingernails leaving faint pink trails as he scraped down Kyouya's throat to his chest. Kyouya bent slowly back, one of Touji's arms moving to support him until he was resting against the cool surface of the bar itself, spread for Touji to explore. "No wonder Homura's eyes turned," he smirked down at Kyouya, that devil's grin that had so infuriated Kyouya every time the man had seen him. But now it was sexy, it was warm, it was pure sex as he opened his own shirt. "Given the feast in front of me, I can hardly blame his lapse."
It was too much, the memories once more crowding in on Kyouya at Touji's words. Kyouya looked away, feeling his moist eyes and scowling as he reached up to scrub away the tears he refused to shed. But other hands were there first, gentle hands, tender hands that cupped his face and slid over his cheeks. Kyouya looked back up warily and it wasn't Touji's face anymore above him. There was Homura again, with those solemn grey eyes surprisingly full of compassion. He said nothing, instead leaning down to press lips against Kyouya's chest, a slow fall of kisses that nudged Kyouya's desire into need again. "Homura," he whispered, hands going around the thinner shoulders, drawing the man forward until Kyouya was stretched out against him, clothed body rubbing against Kyouya's bare one. "I don't understand how," he murmured, feeling Homura's hands moving around to his center, cupping him. "I don't care, either," he added, when Homura seemed about to explain. There was a moment's hesitation, and then Homura nodded. But there was a question Kyouya did need answered, and the words stuck in his throat as Homura finally stepped back, hands at his waist. "Homura... What you showed me about Touji..." Kyouya whispered hesitantly, and there were several seconds of silence before he continued. "What do I really want?"
His eyes squeezed shut, and he lifted his hands to his face, pressing the heel of his palms into each eye as though the small pain might blot out the confusion. "You want both of us," came the answer finally, Touji's rougher, darker voice overlaying Homura's smoother one for a moment. When Kyouya opened his eyes, there was Touji again, slick fingers sliding against his inner thigh, then deeper, pass his cheeks and into the shadowed crevice between them, teasing, searching, finding that sensitive ring. He pressed a finger in, then another, holding Kyouya's eyes with his steady gaze and moving his other hand to grasp Kyouya's hip, holding him in place. "Your place could be with both of us, if you dared," Touji added. His hand withdrew, settled against Kyouya's knees and pushed, spreading the man wide as he stepped forward. Somewhere, he'd opened his pants, the heavy length of arousal hanging between his legs, bared and glorious. He nestled the head at Kyouya's entrance, staring down at him as he pushed in slowly.
"If I dared?" Kyouya gasped, his hands gripping the edge of the bar as he felt himself filled. "Would you...?" Hips canted upward, Kyouya began to rock himself slightly, moaning at the bit of friction that offered and growing bolder with each movement. As Touji's hands moved to him, one settled at his hip once more but the other catching his sex and tugging it, rubbing it and teasing it, Kyouya cried out. His head fell back into the space past the edge of the bar, a soft moan dragging out in the silence.
"Do you dare to find out?" Touji asked again, and now the rhythm was harder, rougher, but somehow still tender. The man was a contradiction, the sex was a contradiction, the words contradicted Kyouya's memory, and none of it mattered beyond the need for release pooling in his stomach. Touji stretched out over him, biting at one nipple and pumping hands and hips hard. Kyouya screamed out when the pain hit him, the overload of sensation and memories too much. He twisted, fought against the covering body for a moment before suddenly he was coming, falling, spiralling down into pure bliss. Ecstatic fire rode through his veins, wearing him raw until Touji found his own release. When the two parted, Touji was somehow the bartender again, gentle eyes looking at Kyouya and a delicate hand moving to stroke his cheek.
"That is the answer I cannot give you," he whispered, while Kyouya stared up at him almost blankly. "Do you dare to find out?" he repeated, his voice tender. "I can guide you to the question, but only you can answer it."
Kyouya got up on shaky legs, casting about for his clothes and surprised when his host moved to clean him with a warm, wet cloth. The tenderness somehow shifted the moment, helped Kyouya understand what had happened there; there had been no Touji, no Homura. There had been likenesses of them, but that was the magic of the place, of his host, and he somehow felt that questioning the man would destroy the fragile understanding in his heart. He turned to Cain, and Cain smiled at him, moving to kiss his lips lightly.
"Go find your answer," Cain whispered, stepping back as Kyouya nodded. He hesitated, staring at Cain a moment longer before turning to go, making it out of the door into the small underground shelter that was Bar Cain's front door before sagging against the wall.