It's not that Touya has any objections to the idea of his hot boyfriend pinning him to the kitchen floor, because... okay, so it's self-explanatory, really. Hot boyfriend. (Also sweet, and wonderful, and with a smile like sunshine, and it's possible that Touya may be sort of ridiculously in love with him.) As far as Touya is concerned, Yukito can pin him to the kitchen floor, the bathroom floor, the living room floor, any floor he wants, as often as he likes.
Particularly if the next step involves tearing Touya's pants open and going down on him.
No, Touya has no objections to any of that. The difficulty comes in when one moment he's pinned down by his hot boyfriend, and the next moment, there's a strange rush of air and his hot boyfriend's coldly lovely otherself lifts his head and says, calmly, "I don't understand the appeal in this activity."
Touya lets his head fall back to thunk against the floor. "Then why are you here?" One possible reason suggests itself straight away, and he sits up so fast the blood drains from his head and black spots swim in his vision. "Is my sister coming here, are you here for her, tell me she's not--"
"No." Yue, as always, manages to make the slightest pronouncement sound weighted with importance. "I was curious. Yukito felt warm and happy, and I wanted to know..."
Touya groans. He was warm and happy, too; he really would have liked to be even happier by now.
"You pretty much killed the moment," he says. He reaches down and tucks himself away, zips up his jeans again, trying not to make it look rushed or embarrassed. This is Yuki, after all. Sort of. In a way.
"You touch each other a lot," Yue says, and Touya tries to understand the emotion behind his words, because it's there, there's something not being said under the surface of what's being said, but he doesn't want to get it wrong, either. Then Yue hands him the key to the mystery in three short words. "Yukito likes it."
Touya pushes himself up so he's kneeling across from Yue, who has twisted his upper body slightly sideways so his wings don't bang into the refrigerator or the kitchen cabinets. "You might like it, too," he says, and Yue looks at him with emotions flashing through his eyes, quickly, but not too quickly for Touya to read, this time. Startlement, anger, fear. Curiosity. Longing.
Taking a deep breath, Touya stretches out one hand. His arousal is gone, but there's something he's always wanted to do. "May I touch your wings?"
"No," Yue says immediately, almost before Touya has finished his question, as if may I touch was enough to trigger the reaction. Then, after long moments, "Yes." It's so quiet, Touya almost doesn't hear it.
Touya runs one fingertip along the top edge of the nearest wing. The feathers are incredibly smooth, but not soft; they're firm and springy, made for flying. Touya feels intrigued. "Do they ever get itchy?"
"Sometimes," Yue admits. "But when I'm not... here, I don't feel it."
Touya cocked his head. "Then does Yukito get itchy in your place? He loves it when I scratch his back." He grins. "Maybe you'd love that, too. Turn around."
Yue's face tightens. "Here on the floor?"
"We can sit on the couch," Touya says. He gets to his feet and offers Yue a hand, pulls him up easily. "You weigh less than Yuki. How is that even possible? You're wearing a ton of clothes. And you have those huge wings."
Yue doesn't answer, but he doesn't disappear, either. He goes into the living room and looks consideringly at the couch, then perches on the armrest, wings trailing down to the floor. Touya goes to stand behind him, feeling absurdly like a servant in some historical drama. "I'm going to touch you now," he says, before reaching out to brush his whole palm against the top edge of the wing in one long stroke.
It's not as if Yue's wings need grooming. Every feather lies in perfect order every time he appears, just as his clothes are always clean and tidy, his hair unnaturally neat. It doesn't seem to matter how mussed up he gets while he's here, or how mussed up Yuki gets. But apparently he gets itchy, and Touya carefully slips his fingers in between the feathers and rubs at the downy bone ridge.
Yue makes a sound. It's a good sound, Touya decides, so he continues, just as carefully, until Yue says, "You can use your nails."
"That won't hurt?" Touya blurts out.
"Of course not."
So Touya does, and Yue drops his head forward a little, just the way Yuki does when Touya scratches his back, although Yuki tends to be more vocal about just where he wants Touya's touch next, and next, and next, and Touya ends up touching him in places that have nothing to do with that itch right next to his shoulderblades.
"Where does it itch most?" he asks, thinking about how the feeling must transmit to Yuki, whether Yuki is itching in places he doesn't even have. "Is it closer to the tips of your wings, or...?"
"No," Yue says after an infinitesimal pause. He doesn't say anything more, but Touya's not stupid, and moves his touch in the other direction, closer and closer to Yue's silk-clad back. The robe has slits for the wings, which is only logical, Touya supposes, and looks as though it would be almost impossible to...
"Hey, does this thing come off?" Touya tugs gently at the robe, fingers hooked into the edge of the slit, knuckles rubbing against the place where Yue's wing grows out of his back, trying not to think about how freaky that is.
"No," Yue says. Touya waits, and after a little while, Yue says, "Yes, I suppose... I suppose that would be possible."
Touya wants to watch closely, but if he tried that he'd be smacked in the face by a wing, and probably not by accident, either. So he backs away a bit, and there's a flutter and whoosh of feathers and silk, and then Yue's sitting on the arm of the couch again, wearing the thin shirt that was underneath the padded robe. Touya would make an exasperated face, but he feels more fond than anything else. This is so very Yue, but it's also very Yuki.
"Don't jump," he says and puts both hands on Yue's back, right underneath the wings, and rubs there, scratches with his nails through the thin fabric. Yue doesn't jump. He stiffens at the first touch, holds very still, and then he makes a sound that Touya knows very well and can't resist at all. This is the small moan he spent so much time coaxing out of Yuki in the early days, the one that says I'm terribly turned on but I refuse to let you know. They've come a long way since then -- a very long way, Touya thinks, remembering being pinned down in the kitchen -- but there are still times when Yuki has other things on his mind, or claims to, anyway, and Touya likes to distract him. A lot.
Hearing this sound from Yue is unbearably sexy.
So Touya continues touching him just like that, scratching around Yue's shoulderblades that aren't really shoulderblades, even slipping his fingers into the slits in the shirt to rub right at the join of wing and back, where the fuzzy down thins out and disappears, giving place to smooth, soft skin. That makes Yue moan again. His hair is swept forward over one shoulder, and that hides his face from Touya, mostly.
Just when Touya is wondering how to get Yue to take his shirt off, Yue straightens up, muscles going rigid under the deceptively soft skin. "I will leave now."
"Don't do that," Touya protests. But his words are useless: there's a flutter and a ripple and a strange rushing in the air, and then it's Yuki sitting there on the arm of the couch, and Touya automatically reaches out to steady him so he won't fall off.
Yuki turns his head and looks at Touya over his shoulder. "What," he clears his throat, "what have you been doing?"
"I was going to try to seduce Yue," Touya says frankly. "But he ran away."
"I see." Yuki swings around on the couch arm so that he's facing Touya instead, head tipped back to look up at him. His eyes are huge and dark, the pupils blown. "Whatever you were doing, I think it was working."
"I know," Touya says, trying for smug and confident, and then he laughs and bends down to kiss Yuki, his hot boyfriend who is also sweet and wonderful, and... "You do know that I'm ridiculously in love with you?"
Yuki flushes hot. "You never say that." He looks like a fallen angel; Yue never does. "But I can feel it." Yuki draws Touya closer with one arm around his hip, and with the other hand, he starts to unfasten Touya's jeans. "I think I was in the middle of something, here. Unless you don't want me to..."
"I want you to," Touya says fervently. "Anything you want. Everything."
"I kind of want you to scratch my back later," Yuki says, bending his neck, and then his mouth's on Touya. Hot and sweet and wonderful.