Title: Blindfold
Fandom: Samurai Warriors
Rating: T
Characters: Tōdō Takatora, Ōtani Yoshitsugu.
Length: 956
Content notes: None!
Summary: He was put into a mask himself before he was allowed to 'see' past Yoshitsugu's.

***

This was stupid. There was no way he should be sat here letting Yoshitsugu do this: it was just setting himself up for a guaranteed fall into one of his friend's typical dark jokes or pointless 'lessons.' Takatora picked at the edge of the blindfold that had moments ago been fixed into place (flawlessly, as it turned out, because of course it was) and grunted.

“Are you going to explain what you're doing or is leaving me in suspense the entire point?” He leaned back against the wall and tried his very best to look like he wasn't nervous. “Because if it's the second I'm going to leave.”

“No you aren't.”

Which was true, damn it all. Takatora had all his life made a habit of trying to act like his best friend wasn't also his biggest weakness but had never done a very good job of convincing himself it was true; it certainly hadn't convinced Yoshitsugu himself, because the other samurai regularly and with great ease utilised that weakness to great effect, knowing full well what he could get away with and making sure he did so. Takatora could stalk off in a temper as much as he liked, or put on a front and act like he didn't care, but Yoshitsugu somehow always knew what was going on underneath and would be sat waiting when Takatora came right back to his side and acted like nothing had happened.

That voice always called him back, no matter how far apart they were.

“Just get on with it, Yoshitsugu.” Takatora snapped, coming off as rather waspish. “Finish your game so we can actually get something useful done.”

“This isn't a game.” Yoshitsugu punctuated his point by sitting in Takatora's lap, which earned him a somewhat strangled sound as he settled. “Don't be stupid and try paying attention to the flow.”

Usually that mention of the flow would have got commented upon, but this time its meaning was completely lost because it was spoken right against Takatora's jaw, and really, what could someone as stunned as he say when he could feel the word being spoken? There had to be nothing more than a hair's breadth of air between his skin and Yoshitsugu's lips right now, which meant that the facecloth had been taken off, which explained the blindfold, which meant that mouth he had probably dreamed about more times than he would ever admit was in kissing distance.

Yoshitsugu might have had other specific plans, but to hell with that. Feeling awkward about what he wanted to do could come later; right now Takatora did what he'd never know would manage to surprise Yoshitsugu a little and almost launched himself into an immediately passionate kiss. The sight of those lips were denied to him so he was absolutely determined to use this chance to learn what they felt like instead, to know the shape of them, to conjure up some kind of image from the way they melted against his own. Melt they did, too, because Yoshitsugu had started this with intent and there was no reason why he wouldn't do as he did and immediately open his mouth, which made it very easy for Takatora to suck on his... his lover's top lip for a moment.

What next? Well, it wasn't just the mouth that had been hiding from him. Takatora cupped Yoshitsugu's cheeks without stopping their kisses for a moment and dragged his fingers along the smooth skin, slowly touching every inch of skin on the bottom half of Yoshitsugu's face. It fed a more complete mental image in his mind, and heavens above it was all the confirmation that Takatora needed to know that his beloved friend was as beautiful as those eyes had always suggested.

“Yoshitsugu.” It was a breathy murmuring of his friend's name; Takatora moved back just a fraction and shifted his hands into a mass of silken hair. “I can see you, you're-”

“Don't be foolish, Takatora,” said Yoshitsugu, interrupting with an amused tone that somehow managed to be warm and erotic as well. “You can't see anything right now.”

Beneath his blindfold, Takatora rolled his eyes and without fanfare grasped onto the other man and laid him backwards onto the floor. It shouldn't be surprising that Yoshitsugu would come out with something like that even during a moment as poignant as this, so maybe he should consider it a good thing. Yoshitsugu being Yoshitsugu. The man he... he loved, being himself at all times.

(That 'self' being a foolish man with a questionable sense of humour, perhaps, but nobody could be perfect).

“You know what I mean, idiot, you started this.” Takatora readjusted himself until he could find Yoshitsugu's neck and pressed a kiss against it. “Put a mask on me, took yours off, s-sat on me like that...”

“I'm not sat on you anymore.”

That didn't deserve a response; Takatora snorted lightly but said nothing else, choosing instead to kiss Yoshitsugu's neck again as his lover shook with quiet laughter. More of those was enough to stop that laughter and get Yoshitsugu sighing softly instead. Perfect.

Yoshitsugu might have planned less than this (or more), but as Takatora moved back to kissing those lips fiercely and felt hands grasp at his back he felt like he could happily do this for hours. Kiss, learning, touching... getting closer and intimate in a way he'd never known with the person he'd only ever called his best friend. 'Seeing' Yoshitsugu past the mask by wearing one himself... ridiculous, it shouldn't work like this, and one day he wanted to see that perfect face in the truest sense.

But for now, he'd take it.