"So," said Tsuzuki, when he could no longer pretend that there was anything edible left.

"Look, it's okay if you don't want to--" began Watari.

"Oh, I want to," Tsuzuki interrupted. "I just wasn't sure if... have you really not done this before? Even when you were alive? You just don't strike me as someone who..."

Watari shrugged.

"I suppose I always thought I'd have time later. When I'd made my award-winning discovery, or whatever."

Tsuzuki's eyes coasted over the piles of books heaping the furniture, the endless drifts of paper and notebooks, and the laughter was gone when he said, "And then you ran out of laters?"

Watari glanced at him, faintly defensive.

"You don't have to do this because you feel sorry for me."

Tsuzuki tackled him expertly, pinned him to the ground, and kissed him until he stopped struggling. And then a bit more for the hell of it. And then a bit more again, because kissing Watari was unexpectedly addictive.

Watari finally thumped him on the back of the neck with something that had sharp edges.

"Ow!"

"Some of us need to breathe," Watari explained, looking only half sorry and the other half amused. "Which is kind of weird for dead guys, now I think about it. I wonder if we could train ourselves not to?"

"What did you hit me with?" complained Tsuzuki, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing his head. "Ow."

"Maybe some sort of reflex-inhibitor..."

"I'm starting to see why you never got laid." Tsuzuki fumbled around until he could pry the makeshift weapon from Watari's hand. It turned out to be a large conch shell. "Why is this on your floor? Never mind. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were nervous."

Watari snorted disdainfully, but he wouldn't meet Tsuzuki's eyes. Tsuzuki tried not to grin, he really did, but he just couldn't help it.

"That's so cute."

Watari fought to sit up, but Tsuzuki held him down easily.

"If you call me cute again, I'll animate every stick figure you drew in my notebook and send them off to play in Tatsumi's office."

Tsuzuki's grin wilted a touch, but then turned affectionate as he reached out for a lock of hair that was brushing the corner of Watari's mouth.

"You are cute. You're--" he thought for a moment, "--fifty-three years younger than me, so I'm allowed to call you cute."

Watari swatted at his hand without real irritation.

"In that case, I can call you a dirty old man, can't I? Are you going to kiss me again or not?"

"Sure," said Tsuzuki, leaning down. He couldn't resist, just before their lips met, adding, "and I can be as dirty as you like."

That got an interesting sort of shiver out of Watari, one which Tsuzuki made a mental note to try and provoke more often. And Watari might not have done this before but he was certainly a fast learner, because after a bit Tsuzuki forgot he was supposed to be the cooler, older man and moaned quietly. He heard/felt Watari chuckle, and pulled away with a vague feeling of embarrassment. Which was stupid. They'd been friends a while now. The last time he'd felt this awkward had been with Tatsumi, for heaven's sake - well, not that he remembered much about the first time except for how long it had taken to find his other shoe and Tatsumi's tie afterwards - and that had been all tangled up with everything he hadn't been able to say.

"I could get to like this," Watari remarked. He didn't exactly look nervous any more, just intent, as if he was cataloguing everything for later study. His fingers were wound into Tsuzuki's hair, apparently of their own accord. It felt nice. "Do you want to move somewhere else?"

"That's supposed to be my line." Tsuzuki grinned. "And I kind of like how you look on your back."

Watari tensed. Tsuzuki had half a second to think he'd given offence, before he found himself losing his balance, as Watari deftly rolled him onto the floor. Tsuzuki blinked, and Watari settled rather comfortably over him, hair falling forward to tickle his nose.

"I think I like it better this way, myself," he said, and Tsuzuki would have protested, except that the last words were spoken into the hollow of his neck. Lips brushed his skin lightly, much too lightly, and he closed his eyes and pulled Watari blindly down against him.

"I thought I was supposed to be teaching you," he grumbled without much rancour.

Watari's laughter puffed warm breath against Tsuzuki's ear. It was his turn to shiver.

"Get on with the lesson, then."

Tsuzuki tugged at Watari's high-necked sweater until he sat back and pulled it over his head. His glasses got caught in the neck, turning the smooth, confident movement into an undignified struggle with the garment. Tsuzuki snickered helplessly until Watari finally freed himself, glasses crooked and hair full of static, and shut him up with kiss charged more with irritation than passion.

"I'm doing my best here," Watari complained when they broke for air. The annoyed note in his voice wavered to expose something uncertain. Tsuzuki wished he hadn't laughed.

"No-one's giving points for style," he said, reaching up to rest his hands against Watari's bare arms, which were braced on either side of his shoulders. Watari was wearing a black t-shirt, one of those modern items of clothing Tsuzuki had never felt entirely comfortable with, embossed with some English logo he couldn't read. He stroked one thumb over the inside of Watari's elbow and smiled. "This is supposed to be fun, you know."

Watari pushed a piece of hair behind his ear and smiled back ruefully.

"Sorry. Nerves, I guess. I can't believe you of all people are making me nervous."

"Hey. I'm insulted." Tsuzuki got a hand behind Watari's neck and pulled him inexorably downwards. "Make it up to me?"

Watari laughed, which Tsuzuki used shamelessly to his advantage, because when Watari laughed his mouth was open, and there were far too many things they could be doing with their tongues apart from teasing each other. Well, no, teasing was fine, but there had definitely been enough talking. Watari made a startled sound that turned into something like a sigh. One of his hands found Tsuzuki's belt and hooked into it, fingers warm against skin, and Tsuzuki wriggled thoughtlessly into the touch. Watari's hair brushed his face and Tsuzuki found he'd wound both hands into it without really noticing, guiding Watari's head so that he could explore his mouth with due care and attention. He teased his tongue into a corner, and was rewarded by feeling Watari go suddenly boneless on top of him. Which was nice because Tsuzuki had wanted to do something like this for a while, and certainly not only as a favour to a friend, and it was gratifying to know that Watari wasn't just going along for the ride.

He ran his hands down Watari's back and worked them under the t-shirt, easing his palms across smooth skin. Watari responded by biting his lower lip none too gently, and Tsuzuki yipped before he could help himself.

"Sorry." Watari looked abashed, but the amusement was back in his eyes, and he made no move to lift himself off Tsuzuki. "Can you take your shirt off?"

"You could do it for me," Tsuzuki said, running his tongue over his lip to make sure it wasn't damaged. He saw Watari's eyes follow the movement, and added, "I'd like that."

Watari rolled aside and began to twist buttons open one-handed. Tsuzuki reached up absently to brush his hair back over his shoulders, enjoying the silky way it ran through his fingers, and got a smile in return.

"Messy, isn't it?"

"I couldn't live with it. Looks good on you, though."

Watari's fingers hesitated, and he looked at Tsuzuki almost curiously.

"Thanks."

Then he leaned over and laid a tentative kiss on Tsuzuki's chest, twisting the last button free and pushing the edges of the shirt aside. The slide of Watari's hand over his skin made Tsuzuki twitch until it became more confident and less tickly. Watari's unruly hair slipped forward again and trailed softly over both of them, but that wasn't tickly at all, and Tsuzuki rather liked it. Watari moved upwards until he was mouthing gently over Tsuzuki's collarbone, and Tsuzuki caught his breath and mumbled, only half-teasing, "If you've really never done this before, I think you'll kill me when you're a pro."

Watari snickered quietly and bit down. This time he got the pressure just right. Tsuzuki tried not to moan like a teenager and barely succeeded. Some people were obviously naturals. Watari's hands brushed across his chest, a nipple, his stomach, and he abruptly decided that he didn't want to do this here with his back on coarse carpet (what was wrong with tatami mats, Tsuzuki wanted to know, which at least didn't burn when you moved too suddenly, and smelled nice besides?) and one of his legs trying to cramp below the knee.

"Let's move."

"I thought you said you liked it here?" Watari's mouth grazed the line of his jaw and ghosted towards his right ear. "I distinctly remember..."

"Mmm... yes, but I've changed my mind."

"Tough. Maybe I like the way you look on your back."

Oh, that did it. Tsuzuki exerted a huge effort and sat up. Watari scrabbled to hold onto him, lost his balance, and slid sideways with a curse. Tsuzuki gave him a sweet, friendly smile. Watari threw a book at him.

"OW!"

"Serves you right."

"Watari!"

Watari started to laugh, curling in on himself and accidentally dislodging the rest of the books at his back. The slithering thump as they collapsed on top of him seemed to strike him as even funnier. Tsuzuki watched him for a while, until he subsided into the occasional snort.

"Are you done?"

Watari sat up, careless of the books that rolled off him to the floor, and pushed his hair back from his face. His mouth twitched with suppressed amusement, but he nodded. His t-shirt had ridden up at the back, and his cheeks were faintly flushed, and Tsuzuki decided that really enough was enough and they should get on with it. Preferably soon, before he forgot about his good intentions of moving elsewhere and just pinned Watari to the floor.

He got to his feet and held out his hand. Watari eyed it, transparently considered pulling Tsuzuki down again, and let himself be dragged upwards instead.

"I'm assuming you do have a bed in this place?" Tsuzuki looked around them at the stacked furniture. "And by bed I mean something not covered in books or pieces of weird machinery."

"Oh ye of little faith," Watari sighed. His hand was still in Tsuzuki's, which was pleasant, especially when he moved his thumb to brush the knob of Tsuzuki's wristbone. "I do, in fact, have a bed. This way."

The bedroom was surprisingly uncluttered. Tsuzuki thought that probably Watari was too exhausted by the time he staggered away from his midnight experiments - Tsuzuki had caught him asleep in his new lab more than once - to take anything to bed with him to work on. The bed was a Western one, which Tsuzuki still thought looked kind of odd, but the one time he'd brought it up with Tatsumi he'd been told he was old-fashioned and to kindly be quiet now. But then, perhaps that was because he'd mentioned it in the middle of the office, where Tatsumi, for all his veneer of cool authority, was most vulnerable. At any rate, he'd left in a hurry.

"See? Bed."

Watari had that nervous look again, the one he hid with mad scientist grins and upraised potion bottles when they were working, and which he could not quite mask now behind humour. Tsuzuki used their linked hands to stop him and draw him back. He hugged him, and Watari tensed fractionally. Then his hands crept up to slip beneath Tsuzuki's unbuttoned shirt.

"You're probably my best friend, you know that?" Tsuzuki said, surprising himself.

Watari's fingers shivered and tightened on the hollow of his back, and Tsuzuki sighed and edged a little nearer, and Watari moved his head just enough that they fitted together like a pair of jigsaw pieces. It was nice, just standing there. Comfortable. But then Watari drew back and he was smiling again, not the joking smile or the wicked smile but something that was friendship and anticipation and wry amusement all in one.

"So how do we do this?"

"Well, first of all, you bend over..."

The look on Watari's face was priceless. Tsuzuki grinned, winked, and pulled him towards the bed.

"We sit down," he said. "If we get that right first time, we can move on to the complicated stuff."

"You're a lousy teacher," Watari told him, and pushed him over backwards.

Tsuzuki yelped and pulled Watari after him, so that they sprawled in an undignified tangle of limbs on top of the double bed. Watari raised his head to say, "Is it always this awkward?"

Tsuzuki took a moment to rearrange himself, tugging at Watari's elbow until it went somewhere that was not his solar plexus, and gave the question due consideration.

"No," he said finally. "Sometimes it's a lot worse."

Watari fixed him with a flat, unimpressed look. Tsuzuki smiled.

"And sometimes it's like flying. And sometimes it hurts, and sometimes it... makes everything okay. But mostly, it's fun. Aren't you having fun?"

Watari sighed and moved subtly against him to get more comfortable, which had the interesting side effect of causing his t-shirt to ride up and warm skin to slide over Tsuzuki's bare chest.

"I guess so. This isn't exactly what I imagined."

"I know, but it gets better. Really. I promise."

Watari studied him for a few seconds, emotions flickering across his face like clouds on a starry night.

"I'll hold you to that."

Tsuzuki grinned and very deliberately shifted his hips. Watari sucked in his breath sharply, a faint flush of pink rising to his face. Tsuzuki reached up and gently pulled off his glasses. Watari looked older without them, his face leaner and his eyes more intense, and it was easier to kiss him when the frames weren't there to get in the way. Which Tsuzuki did, with some enthusiasm.

"Mm - wait, let me put those somewhere..."

Watari tried to sit up, but Tsuzuki hooked an arm around him and held him down. He could just reach the bedside table with his free arm if he stretched. The glasses clinked when he put them down.

"There. No more distractions." Tsuzuki took hold of the hem of Watari's t-shirt and began to tug it determinedly upwards. "Help me get this off."

The stretchy material slid and bunched easily in his hands, and when Watari sat back and pulled it over his head, it went without so much as a token resistance. Much more convenient than fiddly buttons, although Tsuzuki thought there was something sexy about unbuttoning a shirt bit by bit... but then, there was a lot sexy about seeing Watari strip off that t-shirt and drop it carelessly to the floor, too. Tsuzuki lifted himself on his elbows, but made no other move to help Watari push his own shirt off his shoulders. Watari leaned forward, following the path of his hands with slow kisses, and Tsuzuki let his head tilt back and his eyes fall half-closed. Fingers edged down one arm, unbuttoning the cuff of the sleeve and pulling the shirt free, and then took care of the other. Watari pushed him down flat on the bed and then shifted his attention lower. He worked Tsuzuki's belt loose and tugged it free of the loops on his waistband. His hands were very warm, but they hesitated when they'd disposed of the belt.

Tsuzuki opened his eyes and smiled. He brought his palms up to brush flat across Watari's chest, deliberately running the nipples between his fingers, then slid his hands around to the small of Watari's back and pulled him down suddenly.

"Like this," Tsuzuki said.

Watari's breath was coming faster and Tsuzuki thought he liked it, liked the way Watari was looking at him, the gold in his eyes molten. He tried to steal a kiss, but Watari dipped forward before he could, hiding his smile in the hollow of Tsuzuki's neck.

"Like that?"

"Like that." Tsuzuki gasped and threw his head back against the sheets. "Oh. Yes. Just like that."

He felt the muscles tense in the small of Watari's back, smooth skin sliding hot under his hands, and the catch in Watari's voice was unmistakeable.

"Like... that."

"Yes."

Watari ground down again and Tsuzuki arched into it. Their skin stuck together and Watari's hair was in Tsuzuki's eyes, but they'd found the rhythm of it now and Tsuzuki couldn't care less. What bothered him more was the way Watari was trying so hard to be silent and succeeding much too well for his taste. He turned his head and bit down gently on a spot just below Watari's jaw, winning a low moan for his efforts. Another nip, and a hand hard on Watari's hip to angle him just a little deeper, prompted a sound that was half a word and half wordless need. Tsuzuki liked that, so he did it again, and this time a shudder went right through Watari's body.

"Tsu-Tsuzuki..."

"Mm?"

"I..." Watari suddenly rolled away, much to Tsuzuki's distress. "Sorry, I..."

Tsuzuki struggled upright, shivering from the ache that had settled into his over-sensitized body, and found Watari sitting on the edge of the bed, breathing deeply and rather unsteadily.

"Watari? Are you okay? Did I do something...?"

Watari laughed. "No, no! Sorry. I just... if we keep going, I'll come in about thirty seconds."

Tsuzuki had to stop and process this.

"And that's a bad thing because...?"

Watari glanced sideways at him with something in his eyes that was as close as he got to vulnerability.

"I thought there was more to it than that."

Tsuzuki crawled across the bed until he could drape his arms around Watari's waist from behind. He pressed in close, skin on skin, and dropped a kiss on Watari's shoulder before he spoke.

"You have some really strange ideas about sex."

"Thanks, you're not helping."

"I can tell you the secret if you like." Tsuzuki nosed in closer and used his teeth on the place where Watari's neck joined his shoulder. "Of course, you'll have to swear never to pass it on to another soul..."

"G-- ah-- go on, then."

Tsuzuki moved his hands to work at the fastening of Watari's trousers.

"Anything goes," he said. "That's the secret. Anything goes. Especially when it comes to office equipment."

"Are you speaking from experience?" Watari arched subtly into Tsuzuki's touch. "Wait, I'm not sure I want to know."

"Your loss." Tsuzuki leaned forward and caught him in a kiss, dipping his fingers teasingly into the open trousers, pulling away just as Watari started to melt against him. "Maybe I'll show you sometime."

He eased around Watari until he could slide to the floor. Watari blinked, leaned back on his hands, and opened his mouth to ask what Tsuzuki was doing. Tsuzuki laid his hands on the insides of Watari's knees and ran them slowly up over his thighs, and whatever Watari had been going to say turned into something that was half laugh and half gasp.

"That... tickles a bit."

Tsuzuki leaned forward and brushed his thumbs over exposed hipbones. He lowered his head and laid a kiss on Watari's stomach, flicking his tongue into the navel. He heard Watari's breathing stop for a second, then carry on somewhat faster than before.

"Tsuzuki?"

Watari was tense under his touch, muscles tight in his back and legs, and Tsuzuki could see one hand clutched in the bedsheets behind him. He glanced up: Watari had closed his eyes, and his head hung forward, mouth a little way open. Tsuzuki hooked his fingers into the belt loops on Watari's trousers and tugged them down past his hips.

"Tsuzuki..."

"Okay?"

"Mmm."

Tsuzuki leaned in again to nuzzle at the join of hip and leg, gently pushing Watari backwards until he was resting on his elbows. He licked the sweat from Watari's skin and felt him shudder.

"Still okay?"

"Don't stop."

Tsuzuki laughed, letting his breath puff warmth over warmer skin, and moved his hand in. Watari arched into the touch with something that might have been a plea or a protest, but Tsuzuki had already lowered his head to put his tongue to use.

"Ah!" Watari's voice had taken on a raw quality that Tsuzuki had never heard. "Don't stop. Don't."

Tsuzuki wanted to say that he had no intention of stopping, not when he could feel the faint shaking in Watari's taut body, but speech was currently impossible, so he settled for moving his free hand to act as support against the small of Watari's back. Watari moaned wordlessly and his fingers tried to tangle in Tsuzuki's hair, slid down his neck instead and came to rest on his shoulder, where they tightened erratically with every lick and careful squeeze.

Tsuzuki had never thought of Watari as particularly self-controlled, but he was starting to realise that that casual nature and easy friendship were byproducts of Watari's hold on himself, not symptoms of its absence. It was there in every gasp and groan, in the way he was fighting the urge to thrust upwards and failing to quite stop his hips twitching jerkily, in the way his hands clung to Tsuzuki as if to keep from drowning.

All at once Tsuzuki needed to push it, so he did, and Watari stiffened and clutched at him. When he came, it was without crying out, only with a soft, "Oh."

Tsuzuki swallowed, drew back, and watched his friend sink back against the covers like an exhausted runner. Watari exhaled raggedly.

"Oh," he said again, wonderingly.

Tsuzuki sat back on his heels and absently wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, pleased with himself. He took a moment to enjoy the dazed look on Watari's face. He wondered if he could find an opportunity to do this at work; he rather liked the idea of Watari wandering around the office wearing that expression and nobody but him knowing exactly why.

He hauled himself back onto the bed, where Watari automatically moved over for him. Tsuzuki leaned over and kissed him slowly, pleased with the way that Watari responded at once. Of course, some people couldn't help falling asleep straight away, but the ones who didn't were usually more fun. And oh, but he needed to do something about his own situation right now. He rolled onto his back and fumbled with the zipper on his trousers. One hand inside, the other tight on the bedsheets, and it wouldn't take more than a minute, not when he was this close...

Watari shifted himself over onto his side, propped himself up on one elbow, and watched for a few seconds. Then he put his hand on Tsuzuki's and said, "Let me?"

Tsuzuki swallowed, nodded, and let his hand fall away. Watari leaned over to kiss him - thoroughly, but unhurriedly, and Tsuzuki made a small, pleading noise - and wriggled so that his body was stretched out warm against Tsuzuki's side. Long fingers found their mark, hesitant, but firm enough to elicit another whimper. Watari was smiling, the way he smiled when he'd solved a problem or completed an experiment.

"Tell me. Tell me how." He jerked his hand experimentally a couple of times, and Tsuzuki moaned aloud. "Fast, or slow, or..."

"Fast. As fast as you can. Please..."

Watari had a look of concentration on his face that was endearing, or would have been, if Tsuzuki were able to focus on more than his pounding heart and Watari's clever fingers and oh, that was right, that was just perfect, that was heaven.

"Ah," he gasped, intelligently, and then, "Please. Now. Please."

Watari smiled, and squeezed, and Tsuzuki came all at once and before he was really expecting it, so that he heard himself cry out as he writhed against Watari's hand without any pretence of restraint. Watari's mouth found his, and Tsuzuki got his hands up to tangle in long, loose hair out of a desperate need to touch and hold on. Not that Watari was going anywhere; he settled more comfortably against Tsuzuki, nosed in to kiss his neck, and radiated smug self-satisfaction.

"I think I could get the hang of this."

"I think you already have." Tsuzuki ran his hands down Watari's back. The contented noise it earned vaguely put him in mind of petting a large cat. "That was..." he fumbled for an adjective that didn't sound like a cliché. "... really good."

"Yeah?" Watari raised his head just enough for Tsuzuki to see that his eyes had darkened to a deep, hazy gold. "Even with my astounding grace and confidence?"

"First times tend to be like that. You should've seen Tats--" Tsuzuki suddenly remembered himself. "Um. Sorry. Never mind."

Watari lifted himself on one elbow, a decidedly wicked smile in place of the uncertainty of moments before.

"Go on."

"Uh." Tsuzuki tried to roll away, but Watari had him pinned, and there was something very alarming about the way he was being looked at now. "I don't know if I should..."

"It's for research purposes, remember," Watari said, grinning. "You're supposed to be educating me. And I really want to know whether our favourite secretary has ever felt as idiotic as I have this evening."

Tsuzuki couldn't help it, although he wanted it on record that he tried - he snickered, and pulled Watari down against him, and absently wound a strand of long hair around his fingers.

"This goes no further."

"Of course."

"And you're not to tease him about it. Even indirectly."

"Would I?"

Tsuzuki tugged Watari's hair meaningfully. He got a martyred sigh and a reluctant nod, which was all the promise he really needed. He trusted Watari, after all.

"Okay. Shove over so we can get under the covers. I'm getting cold." He paused, and grinned. "This might take a while."

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