Emma Made Them Do It
Stop looking at me like that. I'm having a really bad life okay? And then there was Episode 13 of Tiger and Bunny and it sang odes of joy to my hurt/comfort soul.
So I wrote.
Title: This Night
Rating: 18+
Words: 5,530
Summary: Tiger & Bunny. Kotetsu/Barnaby. After episode 13, there is the night. H/C. Pr0nz.
.This Night.
There's celebration all over the city that night.
Kotetsu calls his daughter and hears cheering in the background, his mother calling, "Fireworks!"
"There's no school tomorrow!" she enthuses, and asks, "Can you come over?" It's the first time she's asked in a very long time and Kotetsu knows that's his fault and feels like a terrible father.
"I don't know, honey," he tells her truthfully, and is glad when not even that can dampen her happiness. Maybe she's inured to it by now; the knowledge that her dad just isn't going to be there no matter how much he should be.
He tells her he loves her and to be safe, and Kaede tells him not to drink too much and that granny says to make sure he's eating properly.
"I'll come if I can," he promises and his daughter says, "Okay! Bye!" and is gone.
For a long time Kotetsu sits in Barnaby's chair, in Barnaby's swanky, soulless apartment, with Barnaby's phone in his hand and wonders if he should go to her now. If he'd be missed.
They're supposed to be getting ready to go to some party thing at city hall. From long experience Kotetsu knows that what that really means is photo opportunity. Publicity. The victory of the Heroes over Evil. He knows it's important, but the press and the people want to see Barnaby and the others. Not him.
He's not even sure he could stand for very long anyway. His whole chest aches like it's been run over by a truck, and the sad thing is Kotetsu knows exactly how that feels. There would be the inevitable waving, and Kotetsu's arms feel leached of all their strength. Just holding the phone is too much effort and he puts it down, sighing in relief.
Pathetic. He's a pathetic old man with a daughter who barely remembers him and thinks he's unreliable. A hopeless deadbeat. That's the thing that hurts the most. That she can never know what he does, and why he can't be with her.
From the other room Kotetsu hears the shower shut off and wonders how long it'll take Barnaby to do whatever it is he does with his hair to make it so perfect. He wonders how long he has to before it’s no longer possible to escape this chair, and Barnaby’s apartment, and that party he has absolutely no desire to attend. Kotetsu reminds himself that he's Wild Tiger and he hasn't won a single point this season and no one will even notice if he's not there anyway.
There’s the sound of a door opening, another opening, and footsteps across thick carpet.
Kotetsu doesn't know why he's suddenly so maudlin. It's not like him. He should be happy. They just won. They just saved the city and that's all Kotetsu ever wanted, but now there's no imminent danger, now there's just the view of the city at night, sparkling lights, buildings still tall and whole, people so loud Kotetsu can hear their calls, can hear horns sounding, and Kotetsu is left alone. In his mind Kotetsu turns over and over all the ways it could have gone wrong, how he should have trusted Barnaby from the beginning. But it all turned out fine. His daughter is having a party on the other side of the city, and Barnaby is taking a shower and putting on a tuxedo with an ease and style Kotetsu has never been able to pull off.
He should move. Either leave, or resign himself to enduring what is bound to be a glitzy, loud affair. He’s still wearing the clothes he put on in the hospital. The ones he went to the arena in to save Barnaby and the city. Clothes he’s sweated in and bled in and Kotetsu knows he needs to get clean, but it hurts too much. All the adrenalin of the day is long gone now; everyone alive and safe and the quiet of Barnaby's apartment is such a contrast from the noise and urgency of the day that it feels unreal.
"You should have gone back to the hospital."
The unexpected sound of Barnaby's voice makes Kotetsu jump and he hisses as the movement pulls at his side. It's in anger at himself too, because he's never known himself to be so out of it; to let his guard down so much that he's completely unaware of surroundings. But this is Barnaby's place. It's weird, but somewhere between the chrome and the plush carpeting Kotetsu feels more comfortable -safer- here than he does in his own apartment. It's all the paranoid security measures Barnaby has installed, Kotetsu tells himself.
"Are you even listening?" Barnaby says, and when Kotetsu turns to look at him his expression is a confused mix of annoyance and concern. He's standing in the doorway, hands on his hips wearing only a small towel around his waist. There are bruises all over his torso, ugly red-purple shapes marring his shoulders and arms. His hair is wet, dripping water still.
"I can hear you," Kotetsu replies, and he tries for a smile. From the way Barnaby frowns Kotetsu suspects it wasn't very successful.
"Old man-" he starts.
"We're back to that then?" Kotetsu interrupts. "A couple of hours after saving the city and no more Kotetsu-sama I'm so happy we're partners I couldn't have done it without you?"
Barnaby's mouth twists up into the most unconvincing innocent smile Kotetsu has ever seen. "That's right," he agrees, and Kotetsu has to laugh. It burns, sends jolts of fire all along his side and back but he has to laugh.
"Your face." Kotetsu points and ignores the way his hand shakes.
"There is nothing wrong with my face," Barnaby says primly, and the smile now is a soft thing, but the frown is back. He's too young, Kotetsu thinks, to frown so much. "You haven't moved," Barnaby comments. As though Kotetsu wouldn't have noticed.
"I was on the phone," he says and it's mostly the truth. "To my daughter."
"She's alright?" Barnaby asks, and it surprises Kotetsu how sincerely interested Barnaby's question is, not just a courtesy, something you say because it's polite but something he's said because he actually cares.
"She is," Kotetsu replies.
"And her father?" Barnaby asks. "How is he?" He moves into the room and it's kind of pretty the way the city lights streaming in through the large windows highlight Barnaby's hair and face as he crosses to the chair and the desk. It must be like living in a goldfish bowl, Kotetsu thinks. He wonders if Barnaby often walks around his apartment half naked like this, and if his high-storied neighbours can see him. If they own telescopes and sell tickets. One day soon, Kotetsu thinks, he's going to have to sit Barnaby down and warn him about the dangers of exposing himself this way.
"He's alive and kicking," Kotetsu nods sagely, though possibly the kicking part is an exaggeration. His legs feel like leaden weights and Kotetsu does not look forward to standing for hours and hours and listening to mindless small talk and making a mess of replying because he finds it impossible to sound like he's at all interested.
Barnaby comes to a stop directly in front of him, looking down at Kotetsu with that stern look he seems to favour.
"There was blood," Barnaby says. He looks down and away like he's ashamed of something, and won't meet Kotetsu's eyes when he says, "I should have taken you back to the hospital."
"I wouldn't have gone," Kotetsu shrugs. "I'll be fine tomorrow. You can cover for me at the party," Kotetsu says hopefully. "I'll stay here and recover. You've got a bed right?" It's not something Kotetsu's ever had to ask anyone before but he's never seen any room in Barnaby's apartment that looks even vaguely like a bedroom, and Barnaby's just about eccentric enough to sleep in a pod or something.
Barnaby actually blushes at the question and it's cute as hell. "Of course I do," he snaps and tilts his head towards the way he came.
"Thanks, partner," Kotetsu nods and closes his eyes thinking that once Barnaby is gone he'll crawl there. Possibly. He wonders if it's been long enough that he can use his power again, try to heal himself enough that he can move without looking like a weak fool.
Suddenly there's a cool, damp hand on his neck and Kotetsu startles for the second time that evening. As if it wasn't embarrassing enough the first time around. It’s Barnaby’s hand on his shoulder, though, keeping him still and it doesn't hurt so much.
And Barnaby is kneeling right there in front of him calling, "Kotetsu-san. Kotetsu-san!"
"Yeah," Kotetsu says. "I'm awake." He hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep.
Blinking away the exhaustion, Kotetsu sees the concern on Barnaby's face and wants to reach out and smooth away the worry, to show Barnaby that he's fine, that he's had worse, that he'll get over it after a good nights sleep and a lot of coffee.
"Come on," Barnaby orders, and he's wearing that determined, single-minded look that usually spells trouble. Trouble for Kotetsu, mostly, and it looks like this time isn't going to be any different. Barnaby stands, leans in close, and wraps arms around Kotetsu's back, under his arms and as soon as he starts to pull him up Kotetsu feels agony sparking through him. He maybe possibly yelps, but it's in a manly way. It really is.
"Bunny, stop," he begs. It's not like he has any pride left to hurt anyway. "Just. I'm fine here. Nice and comfy, see?"
Kotetsu wriggles into his seat, regretting it when the movement causes a dull pain in his lower back. It's pointless anyway because Barnaby is glowering at him.
"You're impossible," he accuses. "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"
At least Barnaby isn't calling for an ambulance, but he can see written across Barnaby's face what he's thinking; Don't you trust me?
If there's one thing that Kotetsu has learnt it's that he trusts Barnaby more than anyone else he's ever known in his entire life.
"At least one of us should show up at the party," Kotetsu half-answers. "You have the same power as me," he points out. "You know I'll heal just fine." He grins. "Then we can get back to being the most unlikely partnership that ever existed."
Except that it's not so unlikely at all. Having the same power is one thing, but Barnaby has the same opinions about being a hero as Kotetsu does; that it's not just all about points and sponsors and fame and wealth, but about helping people. Keeping people alive, so that no one has to be left behind.
Barnaby shakes his head like he doesn't think they're so mismatched either and he's still so close that Kotetsu feels cool water splash against his chin. Barnaby hasn't let go, his hands pressed tightly against Kotetsu's back and Kotetsu has to admit that the heat from them feels pretty good.
"I'll call Agnes-san," Barnaby says, voice close but quiet. Tense, Kotetsu thinks. "She can find an excuse for us not being at the party. We've done enough for them today."
"We?" There's no reason for Barnaby to stay too. He's young. He might not like the attention as much as Kotetsu had first thought, but he doesn't mind it. He should enjoy it while he can because in a few years someone new will come along and he'll be yesterday's news and okay, so maybe he's projecting.
"I think I hurt my back," Barnaby says, deadpan, like he’s daring Kotetsu to disbelieve him. That would certainly explain why Barnaby stopped trying to lever Kotetsu to standing. Why he’s still leaning over Kotetsu and not making any move at all, as though he’s frozen.
"You're way too young to have back problems," Kotetsu protests.
"Usually that would be the case." Barnaby sounds annoyed, but there's no malice or coolness to it. "But today I was thrown around like a rag doll and I'm not sure my spine survived unscathed."
"Ah. I see," Kotetsu says. "If you wanted a hug, you could've just said."
"Kotetsu-san," Barnaby begins, exasperated, and Kotetsu interrupts, "There's no need to stand on ceremony. Call me Kotetsu."
"I'm not standing," Barnaby hisses. Kotetsu's not sure if he was actually trying to be funny or not but he finds himself laughing anyway.
"Okay. Okay," Kotetsu reassures him when Barnaby growls in irritation. "I know exactly how to deal with this."
"As an old man I would expect nothing less," Barnaby says dryly.
"Hey," Kotetsu protests. "I'm not that old."
There might be some truth to it though, because even though he's really not that frail Kotetsu has been a hero for almost half of his life and that takes its toll. Today being a perfect example of just how much he sometimes has to put his body through. Already Kotetsu can feel the clicking of his joints, the ache in his fingers when he bends them where they've been broken over and over again.
Kotetsu hopes that it'll be a long time before Barnaby starts feel this worn down. This useless. Hopefully never.
It's an easy intimacy to reach around Barnaby, slowly and cautiously so as not to pull anything inside himself. He slides his hands across the cool, bare skin of Barnaby's back and it's so smooth, so unblemished. It makes Kotetsu wonder if he's ever even been touched here before. Kotetsu expects at least a token protest, but he gets nothing except Barnaby's silence and the sensation of him relaxing under Kotetsu's hands. Finding his spine, Kotetsu gently presses fingers down, walks his fingers up along the line of bone. He massages as he goes, kneading, and doesn't miss the way Barnaby's breath hitches, muscles tensing, relaxing, tensing, relaxing.
About halfway up Barnaby's backbone Kotetsu feels him jerk away from the touch and there's a low, pained sound in the back of Barnaby's throat that would've been impossible to hear if Kotetsu wasn't so close.
"Sorry, sorry," Kotetsu apologises and gentles his touch, pushing lightly, feeling skin and bone shift under his fingers. Bruises, Kotetsu remembers. They’re both covered in bruises.
Barnaby's breath comes in short huffs that Kotetsu can feel against his cheek and his neck. He’s aware of the light press of Barnaby's lips against his chin when he says, "Kotetsu-san."
The stiffness is bleeding out of his body, sagging into Kotetsu's hold and this kind of trust is a heady thing. Kotetsu isn't sure what Barnaby is asking, but he thinks he has some idea.
It's been a long time since Kotetsu was this close to another human being, but he's not some blushing virgin by any means.
There are too many things to think about though; they're partners, they have to work together everyday, Barnaby is so young, he has a daughter, he loved his wife, Barnaby is so warm where he should be cold under his hands, he's exhausted and hurt- they both are- and maybe not thinking straight. But then Barnaby turns his head into Kotetsu's neck, his lips tentatively against Kotetsu's throat with intent this time. It's enough that Kotetsu can't misinterpret the meaning, but casual enough that he can brush it off as an accident if he chooses to.
He should. He knows he should, but he wants this, and he wants more, and when he doesn’t say anything Barnaby takes it as permission, the press of lips more insistent, the touch of a tongue against his skin.
If Barnaby had never have said anything, if he'd never made this first move, Kotetsu would never have known he wanted this at all. Now with him. Kotetsu. A washed up Hero he barely stands on most days.
"I hope you're not expecting," Kotetsu manages, "anything aerobic."
Barnaby pulls back a little way, but not far enough that Kotetsu can see his face. One of the hands on Kotetsu's back slides up to his shoulder.
"I'm not expecting anything," Barnaby tells him. It's an offer, it's Barnaby laid bare and not in the sense of all that naked skin in front of Kotetsu right now either.
Acting before he thinks has always been something of a character trait for Kotetsu anyway, so he just goes with it when he finds himself wanting to turn his head, his nose brushing against Barnaby's cheek. It's not a character flaw, Kotetsu thinks, no matter what the others might think, because it's kept him alive all these years.
"This bad back thing then," Kotetsu says, light and teasing because he can't resist. Kotetsu is still pushing his fingertips against Barnaby's spine and Barnaby sighs like it's a relief. "This back thing was your secret plan to get close to me?"
He instantly regrets it when Barnaby tenses against him, tries to pull away, hissing, but Kotetsu holds on.
"No, it isn't," Barnaby snaps irritably.
"I was joking, Bunny," Kotetsu assures him, and it's such a sad thing, Kotetsu thinks, that Barnaby is always so deadly serious. So uncertain. If there's one thing Kotetsu is sure of, it's that he doesn't mind this at all, that he likes having Barnaby all over him, and Kotetsu mouths open kisses along the sharp lines of Barnaby's cheek bones and all along his jaw to make sure he knows it.
It's enough to make Barnaby relax again, enough that the hand on Kotetsu's shoulder travel up to his neck, thumb stroking just below his ear.
"I wish you wouldn't call me that," Barnaby complains.
"Hmm," Kotetsu replies noncommittally, and Barnaby tisks at him.
It's so easy, Kotetsu thinks, to do this. To be like this. Except, of course, for the fact both of them can barely move. All they have are slow, careful movements, sweeps of Barnaby's hands against the side of his face, the pressure where Barnaby's legs meet Kotetsu's thighs, where he can feel his still-damp hair, light kisses that aren't exactly that.
He wants more and he's not sure he's got the strength for it.
Around him, above him, somehow leaning against him without putting any strain on his battered limbs at all, Barnaby squirms and fidgets like he's trying to find a comfortable position, but is actually probably him just trying to stand up. "This is ridiculous," Barnaby says, frustration evident in his voice and the tautness of his muscles.
"Will you relax?" Kotetsu admonishes, digging his fingers hard in to Barnaby's back for a split second. "I didn't go to all this trouble for nothing, you know. If you keep undoing all my hard work your cleaner will find us like this tomorrow morning."
"I don't have a cleaner," Barnaby denies, but he does sag, taking deep breaths and already his muscles feel more pliable.
"This place is spotless," Kotetsu snorts disbelievingly.
"I clean." Barnaby's started up stroking at his neck again. "I find it relaxing."
A vision comes to Kotetsu's mind of Barnaby wearing an apron, vacuuming, feather duster in hand with a delighted smile on his face and Kotetsu can't stop himself grinning. "I'd like to see that. You can come over to my apartment. I have lots of relaxing you could do there." It's only after a beat that Kotetsu realises just how much like a come-on that sounds. "Right," Kotetsu tries to cover his embarrassment. "Okay. Um."
Barnaby's laugh is a quiet thing that's not much more than warm breath against his cheek but it feels like a victory.
Neither of them speaks for a long while then and Kotetsu's world is his hands on Barnaby's skin, and Barnaby's on his, and the smell of soap and shampoo, and it's easy to ignore the lingering aching and pain of his body and his fatigue because Barnaby needs this.
It's with a slow, gracious slide that Barnaby's back finally unlocks, a long breath of relief and Barnaby kneels in front of Kotetsu, between his legs. Barnaby's hands follow and Kotetsu thinks he's going to draw away completely but Barnaby stays close, stroking over his chest, down to his stomach and Kotetsu looks down at Barnaby and absolutely can't be blamed for all the thoughts he's having; of Barnaby's hands trailing lower, of skin on skin, of his mouth.
Kotetsu feels his cheeks heat up and maybe Barnaby guesses what he's thinking because there's a sly smirk on his face when he says, "So this not-moving from the chair was just a devious subterfuge to get me between your legs?"
He'd never thought Barnaby innocent or naive, but Kotetsu still finds a laugh surprised out of him.
"Yes," he grins. "Yes that was exactly my plan."
Barnaby nods knowingly, and it's good to finally see his face because now he can look in Barnaby's eyes and be sure that he wants this too. That this isn’t pity or distraction. If he's honest, Kotetsu has no idea what Barnaby sees in him. He could have anyone he wanted. He could have everyone he wanted. But here he is, with Kotetsu, and his eyes are warm and affectionate and his smile is kind and his cheeks and his bare chest are flushed even though there's a chill to the room.
Kotetsu finds himself reaching for Barnaby, and Barnaby obliges him by sitting himself up, leaning forward, using Kotetsu's knees for leverage, until they're pressed together and all Kotetsu has to do is crane his neck down and their mouths are meeting for the first time. Just a light touch, and then harder, and then Kotetsu pushes his tongue into Barnaby's mouth and licks along his lips. It hurts to move, but Kotetsu doesn't care, needs to get closer, grips his hands around Barnaby's back, slides them to his shoulders, up along the back of his neck and into his soft, damp hair. He's rewarded when Barnaby hums softly into his mouth and it tastes like nothing Kotetsu has never known before.
It's been a long time. It's been a very long time, and Barnaby's finger, slipping down to his pants, playing up the inside of his thighs, are not helping.
"Ba-" he says against Barnaby's lips, and can't decide which name to use so he takes Barnaby's face in his hands and pushes him away. Not so far that their breaths aren't still mingling together, that Kotetsu can't feel Barnaby's quickened puffs of air on his face, but enough that he can catch his breath. Enough that Barnaby pauses. There's doubt in his eyes, and Kotetsu brushes his thumb lightly across Barnaby's cheek, reassuring. "I won't last long like that," Kotetsu explains, and tries not to be mortified by the admission. He should be proud, he thinks. Old men usually take forever. Or so he's heard.
"I don't mind," Barnaby shrugs and presses into Kotetsu's hands on his face and it's so gratifying Kotetsu can't help but kiss him again. And again. And between kisses Barnaby says, "It's a good-" a tug on his belt, undoing buttons, the thought of it along with the fumbling of it sending spikes of pleasure through Kotetsu that negate the pain of all this bending and stretching. "Think that you won't-" and there are warm hands on him, pulling him out of his underwear and Kotetsu really hopes he didn't put the pair with cartoon dolphins all over them on this morning. "Last-" but Barnaby isn't looking at what he's doing. He's watching Kotetsu's face, tasting his tongue and his lips. It should be creepy, the way he keeps his eyes open, but Kotetsu finds himself thinking it's cute. He knows then that he's gone. That there's no hope for him. "Long." Barnaby fists a hand around him, tugging in short, too-dry movements, but it's friction and it's Barnaby and it's good.
Kotetsu wishes he could reach more than just Barnaby's shoulders and his face. He wishes he could push Barnaby down onto the soft carpet- because he knows from experience the lushness of it- and kiss the bruises he can see from this angle that mar Barnaby's lower back. He hopes he didn't press down on any of them earlier. If he could, he would show Barnaby just how much he trusted him, like that, with his mouth on every part of him. Kotetsu would do anything Barnaby wanted.
All he can do now though is pant out breaths, meet Barnaby's tongue and lips, focus on not coming right then and there because it's been so long and Barnaby's fingers are twisting deftly around the head and rubbing against his thighs and pushing a hand up his shirt to splay over his chest. He's gentle, his touch light, like he knows it'll hurt if does anything more.
Kotetsu thinks- says- he’s not sure, "Oh," and "Barnaby," and then he can't hold it anymore. He's too tightly wound. Too hot. Too tired to resist, and Kotetsu can do nothing but push up into Barnaby's hand and push up until he's coming and coming. It's the best kind of release with Barnaby kissing him and stroking him right through to the end with just the right amount of grip like he knows exactly how Kotetsu likes it.
It's takes a long time for Kotetsu to come down again to a point at which he can feels his fingers and toes again and he can remember how to think and what he's doing. Barnaby is right there, watching him with that single-minded intensity. There's a curiosity there too, and an uncertainty, and Kotetsu thinks, Oh shit, because there's something about that look which convinces Kotetsu that Barnaby has never done that before.
Now he really does feel like a dirty old man. Kotetsu is afraid to ask, but he has to be sure. "Barnaby-" His voice cracks, and Kotetsu has to swallow, take a deep breath. Start again. "Have you ever- before?"
Barnaby's gaze turns sharp and cautious, and Kotetsu slides one hand down Barnaby's arm, slides one hand around the back of Barnaby's neck, holding him close. He won't let him go. He won't let Barnaby hide from him.
Barnaby's tone is on the side of cold when he says, "You can tell." Not a question. More like an accusation, or maybe a disappointment. A failure on his part.
"Not like that," Kotetsu says quickly. "Not because of- that."
Kotetsu shouldn't have said anything, he realises. It's that whole impulse control thing again.
He holds on and hopes that Barnaby will get that it's just him. That Kotetsu can't help but put his foot in his mouth because it's who he is and how he's always been and surely Barnaby's noticed this by now? If Barnaby wanted to it would be an easy thing to pull away because Kotetsu doesn't have the fight left in him to make him stay. Now he's coming down from the pleasure, now Barnaby's hands aren't on him anymore, the pain is coming back and it's like hot needles pricking all along his side. His arms ache where he's reaching out to Barnaby but he won't pull them back.
Barnaby's face is worryingly blank, but he hasn't left yet. He's kneeling still, hands balancing himself on the arms of the chair. Waiting for something.
"I just-" Kotetsu tries to explain, and has to stop because he has no idea what to say. Barnaby raises an eyebrow at him. A challenge. Kotetsu has never been very good at explaining himself with words anyway. "It doesn't matter," he admits, and forces himself further forward until he's sitting on the edge of the seat, and Kotetsu leans in and kisses Barnaby's mouth. He doesn't push, just lets their lips meet, moves against Barnaby slowly. It's easier to show, Kotetsu thinks. It's always been easier for him to just do, so that's what he does. His fingers play with the ends of Barnaby's hair, and he splays the fingers of his other hand against Barnaby's bare chest.
There's a moment when Kotetsu thinks Barnaby isn't going to respond and everything will be lost but then Barnaby seems to come to a decision and in the next second he's kissing Kotetsu back, with force and tongue and he's pushing Kotetsu back in to the chair.
"It doesn't matter," Barnaby agrees. Kotetsu feels a feather-light touch against his side and even that is too much, makes him wince. "But this does."
Somehow, even with his face right up against Kotetsu's, Barnaby still manages to give Kotetsu a stern, disapproving look. To kiss him and somehow still manage to string whole sentences together. "You should've said this hurt you."
"It didn't hurt." It's only half a lie. A sloppy one though apparently because Barnaby stops, and when Kotetsu opens his eyes to ask what's wrong there's a disbelieving look on Barnaby’s face. Kotetsu’s eyes are heavy and he has to blink away the sleep from them. It's disconcerting the way Barnaby is studying him.
"You should sleep." Barnaby sounds almost fond, and that just makes it worse.
"No." Kotetsu winds his arms around Barnaby's shoulders and tries to trap him as tightly as he can. Which even he has to admit is not very tightly at all. "You still haven't- you know," Kotetsu insists, even though he's dubious about how much he can actually do.
There's a strange shifting of Barnaby's shoulders, a noise Kotetsu has never made before and it takes several minutes of dumbfounded staring to realise that Barnaby is laughing. And it’s not that quiet puffing from before but actual, real laughter.
Kotetsu thinks he should probably mind that it's likely he's the butt of this joke, but it's such a shock to see Barnaby's eyes lit with amusement and his mouth curled up into a warm smile and it's incredible. Kotetsu is helpless to do anything but smile back.
"You are old fashioned." Barnaby shakes his head, but his hands slide back to Kotetsu's shoulders. "It's okay," Barnaby says. "You'll owe me in the morning." There's something wicked to the way he says that that makes Kotetsu uneasy, but at the same time it's a promise that this isn't just about now and here and tonight, when they survived, and Barnaby came face to face with his parents' killer. If Kotetsu could make that right, if he could do something to help Barnaby he would. This, or anything, and not just because they’re partners, or because he feels he owes Barnaby anything, but because since the first time they spoke Kotetsu knew there was more to Barnaby than he was letting the world see. This private, hidden side of Barnaby that is all soft touches and a strange sort of confidence and affection that has to be unravelled, drawn out, given unwillingly but all the better because of it.
"You really are making me feel ancient," Kotetsu complains, because he knows he's falling asleep, and wishes so much he could finish this now.
"If the shoe fits," Barnaby nods, trying for serious but failing miserably, and resorting to the underhanded tactic of kissing Kotetsu to hide his smile. Kotetsu feels it anyway, pressed against his mouth.
When he pulls away he brings Kotetsu with him, wrapping his hands around Kotetsu's back and pulling him to the floor and laying him down on that plush carpet he remembers from another night. Kotetsu grits his teeth and hangs on and is infinitely glad when it's over and he can feel soft pile under his back and Barnaby's hands on his arms. They really should have done this to start with.
Kotetsu just lies there and breathes until the nausea and spiking agony passes, and when he can finally open his eyes Barnaby is there, looking down at him. He reaches out, rubs a thumb against the hair on Kotetsu's chin, then presses the same thumb to his own face. "You'll give me beard burn," he says absently.
"I'll give you carpet burn," Kotetsu promises and is gratified when Barnaby's eyes go wide. That's got to be about the filthiest thing he's ever said and he's about to put it down to exhaustion and being an idiot, but there's interest in Barnaby's eyes too and Kotetsu promises himself too; yes. He'll do exactly that. But not now.
"No party then?" Kotetsu asks instead, and Barnaby shakes his head, "No."
He lays down beside Kotetsu, head leaning against Kotetsu's shoulder, fingers stroking gently at Kotetsu's elbow.
He's cold, and his pants are still undone and sticky in a way Kotetsu hasn’t been in years, and Barnaby is wearing hardly anything at all and is going to catch a cold if he stays like this, but at that moment Kotetsu doesn't want to say anything. He wants to keep Barnaby's weight on him, and his touch, and wants to watch the shifting, blinking city lights wash across both their bodies. In a minute he'll speak. In a minute he'll be practical, but right now he just wants to be them and the promise of tomorrow.
.END.
Comments and concrit are most welcome and very much appreciated.
So I wrote.
Title: This Night
Rating: 18+
Words: 5,530
Summary: Tiger & Bunny. Kotetsu/Barnaby. After episode 13, there is the night. H/C. Pr0nz.
.This Night.
There's celebration all over the city that night.
Kotetsu calls his daughter and hears cheering in the background, his mother calling, "Fireworks!"
"There's no school tomorrow!" she enthuses, and asks, "Can you come over?" It's the first time she's asked in a very long time and Kotetsu knows that's his fault and feels like a terrible father.
"I don't know, honey," he tells her truthfully, and is glad when not even that can dampen her happiness. Maybe she's inured to it by now; the knowledge that her dad just isn't going to be there no matter how much he should be.
He tells her he loves her and to be safe, and Kaede tells him not to drink too much and that granny says to make sure he's eating properly.
"I'll come if I can," he promises and his daughter says, "Okay! Bye!" and is gone.
For a long time Kotetsu sits in Barnaby's chair, in Barnaby's swanky, soulless apartment, with Barnaby's phone in his hand and wonders if he should go to her now. If he'd be missed.
They're supposed to be getting ready to go to some party thing at city hall. From long experience Kotetsu knows that what that really means is photo opportunity. Publicity. The victory of the Heroes over Evil. He knows it's important, but the press and the people want to see Barnaby and the others. Not him.
He's not even sure he could stand for very long anyway. His whole chest aches like it's been run over by a truck, and the sad thing is Kotetsu knows exactly how that feels. There would be the inevitable waving, and Kotetsu's arms feel leached of all their strength. Just holding the phone is too much effort and he puts it down, sighing in relief.
Pathetic. He's a pathetic old man with a daughter who barely remembers him and thinks he's unreliable. A hopeless deadbeat. That's the thing that hurts the most. That she can never know what he does, and why he can't be with her.
From the other room Kotetsu hears the shower shut off and wonders how long it'll take Barnaby to do whatever it is he does with his hair to make it so perfect. He wonders how long he has to before it’s no longer possible to escape this chair, and Barnaby’s apartment, and that party he has absolutely no desire to attend. Kotetsu reminds himself that he's Wild Tiger and he hasn't won a single point this season and no one will even notice if he's not there anyway.
There’s the sound of a door opening, another opening, and footsteps across thick carpet.
Kotetsu doesn't know why he's suddenly so maudlin. It's not like him. He should be happy. They just won. They just saved the city and that's all Kotetsu ever wanted, but now there's no imminent danger, now there's just the view of the city at night, sparkling lights, buildings still tall and whole, people so loud Kotetsu can hear their calls, can hear horns sounding, and Kotetsu is left alone. In his mind Kotetsu turns over and over all the ways it could have gone wrong, how he should have trusted Barnaby from the beginning. But it all turned out fine. His daughter is having a party on the other side of the city, and Barnaby is taking a shower and putting on a tuxedo with an ease and style Kotetsu has never been able to pull off.
He should move. Either leave, or resign himself to enduring what is bound to be a glitzy, loud affair. He’s still wearing the clothes he put on in the hospital. The ones he went to the arena in to save Barnaby and the city. Clothes he’s sweated in and bled in and Kotetsu knows he needs to get clean, but it hurts too much. All the adrenalin of the day is long gone now; everyone alive and safe and the quiet of Barnaby's apartment is such a contrast from the noise and urgency of the day that it feels unreal.
"You should have gone back to the hospital."
The unexpected sound of Barnaby's voice makes Kotetsu jump and he hisses as the movement pulls at his side. It's in anger at himself too, because he's never known himself to be so out of it; to let his guard down so much that he's completely unaware of surroundings. But this is Barnaby's place. It's weird, but somewhere between the chrome and the plush carpeting Kotetsu feels more comfortable -safer- here than he does in his own apartment. It's all the paranoid security measures Barnaby has installed, Kotetsu tells himself.
"Are you even listening?" Barnaby says, and when Kotetsu turns to look at him his expression is a confused mix of annoyance and concern. He's standing in the doorway, hands on his hips wearing only a small towel around his waist. There are bruises all over his torso, ugly red-purple shapes marring his shoulders and arms. His hair is wet, dripping water still.
"I can hear you," Kotetsu replies, and he tries for a smile. From the way Barnaby frowns Kotetsu suspects it wasn't very successful.
"Old man-" he starts.
"We're back to that then?" Kotetsu interrupts. "A couple of hours after saving the city and no more Kotetsu-sama I'm so happy we're partners I couldn't have done it without you?"
Barnaby's mouth twists up into the most unconvincing innocent smile Kotetsu has ever seen. "That's right," he agrees, and Kotetsu has to laugh. It burns, sends jolts of fire all along his side and back but he has to laugh.
"Your face." Kotetsu points and ignores the way his hand shakes.
"There is nothing wrong with my face," Barnaby says primly, and the smile now is a soft thing, but the frown is back. He's too young, Kotetsu thinks, to frown so much. "You haven't moved," Barnaby comments. As though Kotetsu wouldn't have noticed.
"I was on the phone," he says and it's mostly the truth. "To my daughter."
"She's alright?" Barnaby asks, and it surprises Kotetsu how sincerely interested Barnaby's question is, not just a courtesy, something you say because it's polite but something he's said because he actually cares.
"She is," Kotetsu replies.
"And her father?" Barnaby asks. "How is he?" He moves into the room and it's kind of pretty the way the city lights streaming in through the large windows highlight Barnaby's hair and face as he crosses to the chair and the desk. It must be like living in a goldfish bowl, Kotetsu thinks. He wonders if Barnaby often walks around his apartment half naked like this, and if his high-storied neighbours can see him. If they own telescopes and sell tickets. One day soon, Kotetsu thinks, he's going to have to sit Barnaby down and warn him about the dangers of exposing himself this way.
"He's alive and kicking," Kotetsu nods sagely, though possibly the kicking part is an exaggeration. His legs feel like leaden weights and Kotetsu does not look forward to standing for hours and hours and listening to mindless small talk and making a mess of replying because he finds it impossible to sound like he's at all interested.
Barnaby comes to a stop directly in front of him, looking down at Kotetsu with that stern look he seems to favour.
"There was blood," Barnaby says. He looks down and away like he's ashamed of something, and won't meet Kotetsu's eyes when he says, "I should have taken you back to the hospital."
"I wouldn't have gone," Kotetsu shrugs. "I'll be fine tomorrow. You can cover for me at the party," Kotetsu says hopefully. "I'll stay here and recover. You've got a bed right?" It's not something Kotetsu's ever had to ask anyone before but he's never seen any room in Barnaby's apartment that looks even vaguely like a bedroom, and Barnaby's just about eccentric enough to sleep in a pod or something.
Barnaby actually blushes at the question and it's cute as hell. "Of course I do," he snaps and tilts his head towards the way he came.
"Thanks, partner," Kotetsu nods and closes his eyes thinking that once Barnaby is gone he'll crawl there. Possibly. He wonders if it's been long enough that he can use his power again, try to heal himself enough that he can move without looking like a weak fool.
Suddenly there's a cool, damp hand on his neck and Kotetsu startles for the second time that evening. As if it wasn't embarrassing enough the first time around. It’s Barnaby’s hand on his shoulder, though, keeping him still and it doesn't hurt so much.
And Barnaby is kneeling right there in front of him calling, "Kotetsu-san. Kotetsu-san!"
"Yeah," Kotetsu says. "I'm awake." He hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep.
Blinking away the exhaustion, Kotetsu sees the concern on Barnaby's face and wants to reach out and smooth away the worry, to show Barnaby that he's fine, that he's had worse, that he'll get over it after a good nights sleep and a lot of coffee.
"Come on," Barnaby orders, and he's wearing that determined, single-minded look that usually spells trouble. Trouble for Kotetsu, mostly, and it looks like this time isn't going to be any different. Barnaby stands, leans in close, and wraps arms around Kotetsu's back, under his arms and as soon as he starts to pull him up Kotetsu feels agony sparking through him. He maybe possibly yelps, but it's in a manly way. It really is.
"Bunny, stop," he begs. It's not like he has any pride left to hurt anyway. "Just. I'm fine here. Nice and comfy, see?"
Kotetsu wriggles into his seat, regretting it when the movement causes a dull pain in his lower back. It's pointless anyway because Barnaby is glowering at him.
"You're impossible," he accuses. "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"
At least Barnaby isn't calling for an ambulance, but he can see written across Barnaby's face what he's thinking; Don't you trust me?
If there's one thing that Kotetsu has learnt it's that he trusts Barnaby more than anyone else he's ever known in his entire life.
"At least one of us should show up at the party," Kotetsu half-answers. "You have the same power as me," he points out. "You know I'll heal just fine." He grins. "Then we can get back to being the most unlikely partnership that ever existed."
Except that it's not so unlikely at all. Having the same power is one thing, but Barnaby has the same opinions about being a hero as Kotetsu does; that it's not just all about points and sponsors and fame and wealth, but about helping people. Keeping people alive, so that no one has to be left behind.
Barnaby shakes his head like he doesn't think they're so mismatched either and he's still so close that Kotetsu feels cool water splash against his chin. Barnaby hasn't let go, his hands pressed tightly against Kotetsu's back and Kotetsu has to admit that the heat from them feels pretty good.
"I'll call Agnes-san," Barnaby says, voice close but quiet. Tense, Kotetsu thinks. "She can find an excuse for us not being at the party. We've done enough for them today."
"We?" There's no reason for Barnaby to stay too. He's young. He might not like the attention as much as Kotetsu had first thought, but he doesn't mind it. He should enjoy it while he can because in a few years someone new will come along and he'll be yesterday's news and okay, so maybe he's projecting.
"I think I hurt my back," Barnaby says, deadpan, like he’s daring Kotetsu to disbelieve him. That would certainly explain why Barnaby stopped trying to lever Kotetsu to standing. Why he’s still leaning over Kotetsu and not making any move at all, as though he’s frozen.
"You're way too young to have back problems," Kotetsu protests.
"Usually that would be the case." Barnaby sounds annoyed, but there's no malice or coolness to it. "But today I was thrown around like a rag doll and I'm not sure my spine survived unscathed."
"Ah. I see," Kotetsu says. "If you wanted a hug, you could've just said."
"Kotetsu-san," Barnaby begins, exasperated, and Kotetsu interrupts, "There's no need to stand on ceremony. Call me Kotetsu."
"I'm not standing," Barnaby hisses. Kotetsu's not sure if he was actually trying to be funny or not but he finds himself laughing anyway.
"Okay. Okay," Kotetsu reassures him when Barnaby growls in irritation. "I know exactly how to deal with this."
"As an old man I would expect nothing less," Barnaby says dryly.
"Hey," Kotetsu protests. "I'm not that old."
There might be some truth to it though, because even though he's really not that frail Kotetsu has been a hero for almost half of his life and that takes its toll. Today being a perfect example of just how much he sometimes has to put his body through. Already Kotetsu can feel the clicking of his joints, the ache in his fingers when he bends them where they've been broken over and over again.
Kotetsu hopes that it'll be a long time before Barnaby starts feel this worn down. This useless. Hopefully never.
It's an easy intimacy to reach around Barnaby, slowly and cautiously so as not to pull anything inside himself. He slides his hands across the cool, bare skin of Barnaby's back and it's so smooth, so unblemished. It makes Kotetsu wonder if he's ever even been touched here before. Kotetsu expects at least a token protest, but he gets nothing except Barnaby's silence and the sensation of him relaxing under Kotetsu's hands. Finding his spine, Kotetsu gently presses fingers down, walks his fingers up along the line of bone. He massages as he goes, kneading, and doesn't miss the way Barnaby's breath hitches, muscles tensing, relaxing, tensing, relaxing.
About halfway up Barnaby's backbone Kotetsu feels him jerk away from the touch and there's a low, pained sound in the back of Barnaby's throat that would've been impossible to hear if Kotetsu wasn't so close.
"Sorry, sorry," Kotetsu apologises and gentles his touch, pushing lightly, feeling skin and bone shift under his fingers. Bruises, Kotetsu remembers. They’re both covered in bruises.
Barnaby's breath comes in short huffs that Kotetsu can feel against his cheek and his neck. He’s aware of the light press of Barnaby's lips against his chin when he says, "Kotetsu-san."
The stiffness is bleeding out of his body, sagging into Kotetsu's hold and this kind of trust is a heady thing. Kotetsu isn't sure what Barnaby is asking, but he thinks he has some idea.
It's been a long time since Kotetsu was this close to another human being, but he's not some blushing virgin by any means.
There are too many things to think about though; they're partners, they have to work together everyday, Barnaby is so young, he has a daughter, he loved his wife, Barnaby is so warm where he should be cold under his hands, he's exhausted and hurt- they both are- and maybe not thinking straight. But then Barnaby turns his head into Kotetsu's neck, his lips tentatively against Kotetsu's throat with intent this time. It's enough that Kotetsu can't misinterpret the meaning, but casual enough that he can brush it off as an accident if he chooses to.
He should. He knows he should, but he wants this, and he wants more, and when he doesn’t say anything Barnaby takes it as permission, the press of lips more insistent, the touch of a tongue against his skin.
If Barnaby had never have said anything, if he'd never made this first move, Kotetsu would never have known he wanted this at all. Now with him. Kotetsu. A washed up Hero he barely stands on most days.
"I hope you're not expecting," Kotetsu manages, "anything aerobic."
Barnaby pulls back a little way, but not far enough that Kotetsu can see his face. One of the hands on Kotetsu's back slides up to his shoulder.
"I'm not expecting anything," Barnaby tells him. It's an offer, it's Barnaby laid bare and not in the sense of all that naked skin in front of Kotetsu right now either.
Acting before he thinks has always been something of a character trait for Kotetsu anyway, so he just goes with it when he finds himself wanting to turn his head, his nose brushing against Barnaby's cheek. It's not a character flaw, Kotetsu thinks, no matter what the others might think, because it's kept him alive all these years.
"This bad back thing then," Kotetsu says, light and teasing because he can't resist. Kotetsu is still pushing his fingertips against Barnaby's spine and Barnaby sighs like it's a relief. "This back thing was your secret plan to get close to me?"
He instantly regrets it when Barnaby tenses against him, tries to pull away, hissing, but Kotetsu holds on.
"No, it isn't," Barnaby snaps irritably.
"I was joking, Bunny," Kotetsu assures him, and it's such a sad thing, Kotetsu thinks, that Barnaby is always so deadly serious. So uncertain. If there's one thing Kotetsu is sure of, it's that he doesn't mind this at all, that he likes having Barnaby all over him, and Kotetsu mouths open kisses along the sharp lines of Barnaby's cheek bones and all along his jaw to make sure he knows it.
It's enough to make Barnaby relax again, enough that the hand on Kotetsu's shoulder travel up to his neck, thumb stroking just below his ear.
"I wish you wouldn't call me that," Barnaby complains.
"Hmm," Kotetsu replies noncommittally, and Barnaby tisks at him.
It's so easy, Kotetsu thinks, to do this. To be like this. Except, of course, for the fact both of them can barely move. All they have are slow, careful movements, sweeps of Barnaby's hands against the side of his face, the pressure where Barnaby's legs meet Kotetsu's thighs, where he can feel his still-damp hair, light kisses that aren't exactly that.
He wants more and he's not sure he's got the strength for it.
Around him, above him, somehow leaning against him without putting any strain on his battered limbs at all, Barnaby squirms and fidgets like he's trying to find a comfortable position, but is actually probably him just trying to stand up. "This is ridiculous," Barnaby says, frustration evident in his voice and the tautness of his muscles.
"Will you relax?" Kotetsu admonishes, digging his fingers hard in to Barnaby's back for a split second. "I didn't go to all this trouble for nothing, you know. If you keep undoing all my hard work your cleaner will find us like this tomorrow morning."
"I don't have a cleaner," Barnaby denies, but he does sag, taking deep breaths and already his muscles feel more pliable.
"This place is spotless," Kotetsu snorts disbelievingly.
"I clean." Barnaby's started up stroking at his neck again. "I find it relaxing."
A vision comes to Kotetsu's mind of Barnaby wearing an apron, vacuuming, feather duster in hand with a delighted smile on his face and Kotetsu can't stop himself grinning. "I'd like to see that. You can come over to my apartment. I have lots of relaxing you could do there." It's only after a beat that Kotetsu realises just how much like a come-on that sounds. "Right," Kotetsu tries to cover his embarrassment. "Okay. Um."
Barnaby's laugh is a quiet thing that's not much more than warm breath against his cheek but it feels like a victory.
Neither of them speaks for a long while then and Kotetsu's world is his hands on Barnaby's skin, and Barnaby's on his, and the smell of soap and shampoo, and it's easy to ignore the lingering aching and pain of his body and his fatigue because Barnaby needs this.
It's with a slow, gracious slide that Barnaby's back finally unlocks, a long breath of relief and Barnaby kneels in front of Kotetsu, between his legs. Barnaby's hands follow and Kotetsu thinks he's going to draw away completely but Barnaby stays close, stroking over his chest, down to his stomach and Kotetsu looks down at Barnaby and absolutely can't be blamed for all the thoughts he's having; of Barnaby's hands trailing lower, of skin on skin, of his mouth.
Kotetsu feels his cheeks heat up and maybe Barnaby guesses what he's thinking because there's a sly smirk on his face when he says, "So this not-moving from the chair was just a devious subterfuge to get me between your legs?"
He'd never thought Barnaby innocent or naive, but Kotetsu still finds a laugh surprised out of him.
"Yes," he grins. "Yes that was exactly my plan."
Barnaby nods knowingly, and it's good to finally see his face because now he can look in Barnaby's eyes and be sure that he wants this too. That this isn’t pity or distraction. If he's honest, Kotetsu has no idea what Barnaby sees in him. He could have anyone he wanted. He could have everyone he wanted. But here he is, with Kotetsu, and his eyes are warm and affectionate and his smile is kind and his cheeks and his bare chest are flushed even though there's a chill to the room.
Kotetsu finds himself reaching for Barnaby, and Barnaby obliges him by sitting himself up, leaning forward, using Kotetsu's knees for leverage, until they're pressed together and all Kotetsu has to do is crane his neck down and their mouths are meeting for the first time. Just a light touch, and then harder, and then Kotetsu pushes his tongue into Barnaby's mouth and licks along his lips. It hurts to move, but Kotetsu doesn't care, needs to get closer, grips his hands around Barnaby's back, slides them to his shoulders, up along the back of his neck and into his soft, damp hair. He's rewarded when Barnaby hums softly into his mouth and it tastes like nothing Kotetsu has never known before.
It's been a long time. It's been a very long time, and Barnaby's finger, slipping down to his pants, playing up the inside of his thighs, are not helping.
"Ba-" he says against Barnaby's lips, and can't decide which name to use so he takes Barnaby's face in his hands and pushes him away. Not so far that their breaths aren't still mingling together, that Kotetsu can't feel Barnaby's quickened puffs of air on his face, but enough that he can catch his breath. Enough that Barnaby pauses. There's doubt in his eyes, and Kotetsu brushes his thumb lightly across Barnaby's cheek, reassuring. "I won't last long like that," Kotetsu explains, and tries not to be mortified by the admission. He should be proud, he thinks. Old men usually take forever. Or so he's heard.
"I don't mind," Barnaby shrugs and presses into Kotetsu's hands on his face and it's so gratifying Kotetsu can't help but kiss him again. And again. And between kisses Barnaby says, "It's a good-" a tug on his belt, undoing buttons, the thought of it along with the fumbling of it sending spikes of pleasure through Kotetsu that negate the pain of all this bending and stretching. "Think that you won't-" and there are warm hands on him, pulling him out of his underwear and Kotetsu really hopes he didn't put the pair with cartoon dolphins all over them on this morning. "Last-" but Barnaby isn't looking at what he's doing. He's watching Kotetsu's face, tasting his tongue and his lips. It should be creepy, the way he keeps his eyes open, but Kotetsu finds himself thinking it's cute. He knows then that he's gone. That there's no hope for him. "Long." Barnaby fists a hand around him, tugging in short, too-dry movements, but it's friction and it's Barnaby and it's good.
Kotetsu wishes he could reach more than just Barnaby's shoulders and his face. He wishes he could push Barnaby down onto the soft carpet- because he knows from experience the lushness of it- and kiss the bruises he can see from this angle that mar Barnaby's lower back. He hopes he didn't press down on any of them earlier. If he could, he would show Barnaby just how much he trusted him, like that, with his mouth on every part of him. Kotetsu would do anything Barnaby wanted.
All he can do now though is pant out breaths, meet Barnaby's tongue and lips, focus on not coming right then and there because it's been so long and Barnaby's fingers are twisting deftly around the head and rubbing against his thighs and pushing a hand up his shirt to splay over his chest. He's gentle, his touch light, like he knows it'll hurt if does anything more.
Kotetsu thinks- says- he’s not sure, "Oh," and "Barnaby," and then he can't hold it anymore. He's too tightly wound. Too hot. Too tired to resist, and Kotetsu can do nothing but push up into Barnaby's hand and push up until he's coming and coming. It's the best kind of release with Barnaby kissing him and stroking him right through to the end with just the right amount of grip like he knows exactly how Kotetsu likes it.
It's takes a long time for Kotetsu to come down again to a point at which he can feels his fingers and toes again and he can remember how to think and what he's doing. Barnaby is right there, watching him with that single-minded intensity. There's a curiosity there too, and an uncertainty, and Kotetsu thinks, Oh shit, because there's something about that look which convinces Kotetsu that Barnaby has never done that before.
Now he really does feel like a dirty old man. Kotetsu is afraid to ask, but he has to be sure. "Barnaby-" His voice cracks, and Kotetsu has to swallow, take a deep breath. Start again. "Have you ever- before?"
Barnaby's gaze turns sharp and cautious, and Kotetsu slides one hand down Barnaby's arm, slides one hand around the back of Barnaby's neck, holding him close. He won't let him go. He won't let Barnaby hide from him.
Barnaby's tone is on the side of cold when he says, "You can tell." Not a question. More like an accusation, or maybe a disappointment. A failure on his part.
"Not like that," Kotetsu says quickly. "Not because of- that."
Kotetsu shouldn't have said anything, he realises. It's that whole impulse control thing again.
He holds on and hopes that Barnaby will get that it's just him. That Kotetsu can't help but put his foot in his mouth because it's who he is and how he's always been and surely Barnaby's noticed this by now? If Barnaby wanted to it would be an easy thing to pull away because Kotetsu doesn't have the fight left in him to make him stay. Now he's coming down from the pleasure, now Barnaby's hands aren't on him anymore, the pain is coming back and it's like hot needles pricking all along his side. His arms ache where he's reaching out to Barnaby but he won't pull them back.
Barnaby's face is worryingly blank, but he hasn't left yet. He's kneeling still, hands balancing himself on the arms of the chair. Waiting for something.
"I just-" Kotetsu tries to explain, and has to stop because he has no idea what to say. Barnaby raises an eyebrow at him. A challenge. Kotetsu has never been very good at explaining himself with words anyway. "It doesn't matter," he admits, and forces himself further forward until he's sitting on the edge of the seat, and Kotetsu leans in and kisses Barnaby's mouth. He doesn't push, just lets their lips meet, moves against Barnaby slowly. It's easier to show, Kotetsu thinks. It's always been easier for him to just do, so that's what he does. His fingers play with the ends of Barnaby's hair, and he splays the fingers of his other hand against Barnaby's bare chest.
There's a moment when Kotetsu thinks Barnaby isn't going to respond and everything will be lost but then Barnaby seems to come to a decision and in the next second he's kissing Kotetsu back, with force and tongue and he's pushing Kotetsu back in to the chair.
"It doesn't matter," Barnaby agrees. Kotetsu feels a feather-light touch against his side and even that is too much, makes him wince. "But this does."
Somehow, even with his face right up against Kotetsu's, Barnaby still manages to give Kotetsu a stern, disapproving look. To kiss him and somehow still manage to string whole sentences together. "You should've said this hurt you."
"It didn't hurt." It's only half a lie. A sloppy one though apparently because Barnaby stops, and when Kotetsu opens his eyes to ask what's wrong there's a disbelieving look on Barnaby’s face. Kotetsu’s eyes are heavy and he has to blink away the sleep from them. It's disconcerting the way Barnaby is studying him.
"You should sleep." Barnaby sounds almost fond, and that just makes it worse.
"No." Kotetsu winds his arms around Barnaby's shoulders and tries to trap him as tightly as he can. Which even he has to admit is not very tightly at all. "You still haven't- you know," Kotetsu insists, even though he's dubious about how much he can actually do.
There's a strange shifting of Barnaby's shoulders, a noise Kotetsu has never made before and it takes several minutes of dumbfounded staring to realise that Barnaby is laughing. And it’s not that quiet puffing from before but actual, real laughter.
Kotetsu thinks he should probably mind that it's likely he's the butt of this joke, but it's such a shock to see Barnaby's eyes lit with amusement and his mouth curled up into a warm smile and it's incredible. Kotetsu is helpless to do anything but smile back.
"You are old fashioned." Barnaby shakes his head, but his hands slide back to Kotetsu's shoulders. "It's okay," Barnaby says. "You'll owe me in the morning." There's something wicked to the way he says that that makes Kotetsu uneasy, but at the same time it's a promise that this isn't just about now and here and tonight, when they survived, and Barnaby came face to face with his parents' killer. If Kotetsu could make that right, if he could do something to help Barnaby he would. This, or anything, and not just because they’re partners, or because he feels he owes Barnaby anything, but because since the first time they spoke Kotetsu knew there was more to Barnaby than he was letting the world see. This private, hidden side of Barnaby that is all soft touches and a strange sort of confidence and affection that has to be unravelled, drawn out, given unwillingly but all the better because of it.
"You really are making me feel ancient," Kotetsu complains, because he knows he's falling asleep, and wishes so much he could finish this now.
"If the shoe fits," Barnaby nods, trying for serious but failing miserably, and resorting to the underhanded tactic of kissing Kotetsu to hide his smile. Kotetsu feels it anyway, pressed against his mouth.
When he pulls away he brings Kotetsu with him, wrapping his hands around Kotetsu's back and pulling him to the floor and laying him down on that plush carpet he remembers from another night. Kotetsu grits his teeth and hangs on and is infinitely glad when it's over and he can feel soft pile under his back and Barnaby's hands on his arms. They really should have done this to start with.
Kotetsu just lies there and breathes until the nausea and spiking agony passes, and when he can finally open his eyes Barnaby is there, looking down at him. He reaches out, rubs a thumb against the hair on Kotetsu's chin, then presses the same thumb to his own face. "You'll give me beard burn," he says absently.
"I'll give you carpet burn," Kotetsu promises and is gratified when Barnaby's eyes go wide. That's got to be about the filthiest thing he's ever said and he's about to put it down to exhaustion and being an idiot, but there's interest in Barnaby's eyes too and Kotetsu promises himself too; yes. He'll do exactly that. But not now.
"No party then?" Kotetsu asks instead, and Barnaby shakes his head, "No."
He lays down beside Kotetsu, head leaning against Kotetsu's shoulder, fingers stroking gently at Kotetsu's elbow.
He's cold, and his pants are still undone and sticky in a way Kotetsu hasn’t been in years, and Barnaby is wearing hardly anything at all and is going to catch a cold if he stays like this, but at that moment Kotetsu doesn't want to say anything. He wants to keep Barnaby's weight on him, and his touch, and wants to watch the shifting, blinking city lights wash across both their bodies. In a minute he'll speak. In a minute he'll be practical, but right now he just wants to be them and the promise of tomorrow.
.END.
Comments and concrit are most welcome and very much appreciated.