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It surprised him, how at home Takumi was in the water, comfortable enough to not even be bothered by the fact he was wearing so little in front of Yugamu.
In fact, Yugamu might have been the self-conscious one, laying bare all his scars. He didn't know if he wanted Takumi to avoid looking at them or stare. Either option set his heart racing.
But Takumi didn't seem intrigued or repulsed by them, just eternally, frustratingly unaware, even as he was right there, twisting lazily in the water.
It had taken some convincing, to get Takumi to actually use his free time as free time for once. A tool could only be useful if kept in good condition. Maybe it would have been an easier prospect if it was the whole group, but even after returning to their good graces, there was an uneasiness between the others and Takumi.
Besides, it would have defeated the purpose.
Yugamu found himself staring at the faint shadows of veins in Takumi's neck, beneath the droplets beading on his skin, imagining how easily he could press his thumbs against the pulse just beneath the skin, until Takumi glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "You're staring."
"How can I not?"
But instead of breaking that self-assuredness, Takumi snorted, flicking water at him. "Plotting murder again?"
"No," Yugamu lied smoothly, letting his fingers trail just above the surface of the water.
For a while they swam. Something about it made Takumi talkative, and he told Yugamu about his quaint, domestic life; a difficult to imagine concept.
He didn't ask about Yugamu's life. He could pretend that it was because he just didn't want to pry.
Finally he let himself move closer, close enough to touch. Now Takumi was looking at him, expression wary and questioning.
He'd chosen to trust Yugamu, when he'd offered him an alliance. Trusted him again and again, no matter his complaints, even after everything. And he knew - hoped - that it meant a fraction as much to Takumi as it did to Yugamu.
How much had it all changed him?
Yugamu reached out, slowly, and though his brow scrunched Takumi didn't move away. Water dripped from his fingertips as they hovered near the gooseflesh that had broken out on Takumi's arm.
"You know," Takumi said as Yugamu traced a wet line down his forearm, "you're not exactly good at hiding ulterior motives."
But here he was anyway, not moving away. Waiting, again, to follow Yugamu's move.
His fingers curled around Takumi's wrist, pressing the pads of his thumbs into the delicate tendons there.
"I figured it would be easier than selling you on a tor- er, *massage* session," Yugamu admitted.
"Is that not what this is?"
They had had a few experiences that Takumi would no doubt characterize as lapses in judgment, when the pain of the ostracization made him accept the only friendly hand that reached out to him. But things were different now, Takumi knowing as he did the way Yugamu had seen an opening and exploited it.
Perhaps he'd left his fingerprints there, where he'd pressed into the wet clay of his mind. Maybe there was no one who could understand each other the way they did. He didn't want to be the only one burdened with this need.
"Maybe something like that." When Yugamu leaned forward, letting go of his hand, Takumi tilted his head back slightly. "You haven't thought about what it would be like?"
"I have a pretty good idea by now what being killed feels like," Takumi responded drily.
"You know what it's like to fall in the battlefield. But I could show you more than that."
It was offered out of love, but there was a good chance that if he were accepted, it would only be because of the guilt weighing on Takumi's heart, the self-hatred and the feeling that he needed to be punished for what he'd done.
Takumi wouldn't say it, would offer him nothing better than the fact that he wasn't leaving.
But Yugamu would take it, because he'd always been greedy.
The water between them rippled as he closed the distance, their bodies nearly touching beneath the surface. Takumi's eyes were unreadable. Yugamu pressed his palm flat against Takumi's chest, fingers splaying over damp skin, feeling the steady heartbeat within. Faster than usual, but not panicked.
He crowded closer, pressing his knee between Takumi's thighs beneath the surface. He let his touch drift lower, down the center of his chest, remembering the incision he'd made there. Gone now, as if it had never happened.
With his other hand he cupped his jaw, tilting his face up. Takumi's lips parted slightly, but he didn't speak.
Yugamu kissed him, slow and deep. He felt Takumi tense, then relax into it, even as Yugamu bit gently at his lower lip, put his hand at the nape of Takumi's neck and pulled him closer. He let his fingers slide into Takumi's damp hair, tugging just enough to make him exhale sharply.
When Yugamu rocked forward, pressing his leg against him, Takumi groaned. Yugamu smiled against his mouth. Takumi's fingers twitched before settling tentatively on Yugamu's hips. Yugamu's tongue slid against Takumi's, wanting to coax him into something messier, hungrier, to make him dig those fingers into his waist.
Takumi pulled back, breathless, but Yugamu chased him, biting his chin, his throat, tasting salt and chlorine. Beneath the water, Yugamu rolled his hips, pressing his thigh between Takumi's legs until he felt him stiffen against him. And there it was, those fingernails finally reflexively digging into his skin.
Yugamu hooked a thumb into the waistband of Takumi's swim trunks, pulling them down and letting the fabric float away in the water. Takumi inhaled sharply, hands hovering midair like he was thinking about trying to cover himself or push Yugamu away. Feeling a deep surge of satisfaction at the sight of Takumi, naked and vulnerable before him, he licked a stripe up Takumi's neck.
He reached out, hand wrapping around Takumi's length, moving in long, smooth strokes. It was a shame, to release his grip on Takumi's hair, but he felt a pressing need to divest himself of his own trunks. The fabric caught against his erection before sliding free.
Yugamu pressed their bodies together, nothing between them but the faint resistance of water. He wrapped his fingers around both of them together, enjoying how his own length made Takumi's look smaller. He squeezed, stroking them in tandem.
Takumi's mouth fell open, eyes half-lidded. His hips bucked into Yugamu's fist without rhythm, desperate little jerks he clearly couldn't control.
The pool's filtration system hummed softly in the background, but all Yugamu could hear were the choked-off noises Takumi kept swallowing down.
Before he could let himself get carried away, he moved a hand to Takumi's shoulder, gently pressing down. Takumi blinked at him, confused, but finally went down when Yugamu guided him with steady pressure.
It was beautiful, watching him sink beneath the surface - that slow surrender, his red hair fanning out in the water. Yugamu held him there, hands firm on his shoulders. Through the shimmering distortion of the water, Takumi's eyes widened, and Yugamu's cock throbbed where it bobbed just inches from his mouth.
He let go, and Takumi surged upwards, water streaming from his hair, chest heaving though he hadn't been down for long. His eyes blazed, but he just hovered there, breath uneven.
"You," he started, voice cracking halfway through, "are insane."
Yugamu grinned, and Takumi swallowed hard, water dripping from his lashes.
The second time, Takumi didn't fight it as Yugamu pushed him under the surface once more, but he could feel the tension in the slope of his shoulders. One hand went to his head, maneuvered him forward, and Takumi opened his mouth, bubbles spiraling upwards.
Yugamu groaned, rolling his hips as Takumi's lips closed around him, eyes flicked shut - hesitant, uncertain. The water muffled sensation, but Takumi's tongue dragged against him, clumsy but endearing. It didn't matter - the sight alone was enough to make Yugamu's thighs tremble.
He guided Takumi's head, slow and firm, letting Takumi focus entirely on the struggle for air and the intrusion in his throat. Between them, Yugamu could see his own reflection in the rippling water, distorted and grinning.
The chill of the water made Takumi's mouth feel all the warmer. A trail of bubbles escaped when Takumi gagged slightly, fingers scrabbling against Yugamu's thighs. The scrape of nails against his skin sent a shiver up his spine.
Yugamu tightened his grip in Takumi's hair, forcing him deeper, admiring how his throat fluttered as he struggled to adjust. He could feel Takumi's pulse hammering where his hand rested against his neck - frantic, alive.
Yugamu held him there for a heartbeat longer, watching his lashes as he blinked against the sting of chlorine.
When he let him up again, Takumi gasped, coughing slightly, water dripping from his chin. His lips were reddened, swollen from the effort. Yugamu didn't give him time to recover, dragging him back down again.
Takumi's eyes were wide and frantic. Now there was a struggle, shoulders rolling, legs kicking against the tile, cock still rock-hard between his thighs.
Yugamu wondered if he knew how beautiful he looked like this, desperately looking up at him, body arching instinctively toward the surface. When Yugamu pushed his length between Takumi's lips again, Takumi's hands spasmed against his thighs. The sound of water sloshing echoed through the large room as Takumi thrashed, but Yugamu held firm, pushing in further until he felt the tip of his cock bump the back of Takumi's throat.
Takumi gagged violently, fingers digging bruises into Yugamu's skin, but it only made Yugamu whine, hips stuttering. Bubbles streamed from Takumi's nose, chest heaving with the effort of holding his breath.
Yugamu moved his leg forward, giving Takumi something to press his neglected cock against. Takumi rutted against Yugamu's thigh, desperate and utterly beyond dignity, movements growing increasingly clumsy. Tremors racked him from head to toe, muscles lock and releasing in waves, lips trembling around Yugamu's cock.
Bubbles burst against Yugamu's thigh as Takumi exhaled violently, but Yugamu only tightened his grip in Takumi's hair, heedless of how his nails had begun to bring the blood. Takumi's hips jerked wildly against Yugamu's leg, his cock pulsing against him as he came, muffled cries lost in the water. A white cloud floated in the water in milky threads.
Takumi's movements grew sluggish, legs drifting limply. He looked peaceful, as his hands loosened their grip, body suspended in the water, panic becoming muted. The pool lights refracted through the water, casting shifting patterns across his slack face, his chest that no longer rose.
A strange euphoria surged through Yugamu, his own breath shallow as his hips jerked forward, fucking deeper into that pliant warmth and tightened his grip possessively in his hair.
The water lapped against Yugamu as he buried himself to the heat, spilling into Takumi's mouth in thick waves. Yugamu's fingers trembled where they still gripped his hair, the other hand pressed against the side of his throat, feeling the absence of a pulse.
He shuddered through the aftershocks, thighs trembling as he slowly withdrew, his spend floating out alongside him. Takumi's body drifted backwards, but Yugamu caught him before he could sink, hauling him up against his chest, skin slippery against skin.
He would bring him back - take him to the revive-o-matic and let it breathe life into his body again, but for now he would let himself indulge. Cradling Takumi's limp form against his chest, he watched droplets roll down his slack features.
The water rippled as Yugamu adjusted his grip, sliding one arm beneath Takumi's knees to lift him effortlessly and carry him to the pool's edge. Takumi's head lolled against his shoulder, wet hair clinging to Yugamu's collarbone.
He laid him down on the cool tile, water pooling beneath his body. Already his skin had begun to pale, lips tainted faintly blue. Once more he pressed his lips against them as he straddled his hips. Despite everything, he was half-hard once again, ridiculous, insatiable creature that he was.
Though he'd brought nothing to ease his way, he parted Takumi's legs, admiring his flaccid cock nested against his thigh. Yugamu pressed a finger inside, thought absently that he didn't need to worry about the sharpness of his nails.
The human body took a while to cool. Inside of him especially he was still warm. He exhaled shakily when he pushed his dick inside. It was obscene, how easily he took him now. One hand remained planted on Takumi's chest, feeling the absence of a heartbeat beneath his palms. He rocked forward, slow and deep, watching water drip from his hair, where it rolled down Takumi's slack jaw. His own breathing was ragged - he wasn't sure he'd ever been this hard.
Yugamu leaned down to press his forehead against Takumi's, whispering praise into the space between them. He dragged his hips back before snapping forward again, harder. He bit down on Takumi's lip, pulling it between his teeth, sucking until it bloomed faintly pink again. He was chasing a thing he couldn't quite grasp, a high that seemed just out of reach.
Takumi's body jostled limply as his pace increased, each thrust punctuated by a guttural groan. arms slipping bonelessly against the tile. Yugamu licked into his slack mouth and moaned, gripping Takumi's hips tighter, fingertips pressing bruises into the skin.
Leaning back, he adjusted Takumi's body, resting his legs on his shoulders, letting him angle himself deeper. Taking one of Takumi's limp hands, he threaded their fingers together, pressing their joined hands against the tile.
When he came - again - it was weaker, spilling inside Takumi's unresisting body. Panting, he let Takumi's legs slide off his shoulders, lowering them gently to the tile. The sound of his own breathing was too loud in the quiet room.
He stayed like that for a long moment, unwilling to move, not wanting to let go. More than the pool water was falling from Yugamu's lashes now.
But eventually he forced himself to pull away, withdrawing with a slick sound. With a sigh he stood, body protesting the movement, and scooped up Takumi's limp form, the weight of him feeling right in Yugamu's arms, like something he'd been meant to hold. His bare feet left wet footprints on the floor as he made his way to the infirmary.
Someone might come across him. He found that he didn't care. Whether anyone understood it or not, nothing in the world mattered to him half as much as his precious cargo.