The world came back slowly. Heavy and hot as Tsuna stirred under the covers, his body aching with a need that wasn't quite his own—but wasn't unfamiliar either. His skin felt too tight, every inch tingling. His head was muzzy with heat and hunger, and his breath dragged shallowly through his chest.
He was hard. Achingly so. The scent in the room had changed—thickened—shifted. It was his own, yes, but also Kawahira's. Their scents had mingled while he slept and that realization made something animal curl deep in Tsuna's gut as his eyes fluttered open.
Kawahira was still seated beside him, back resting against the headboard, a thick book balanced on one leg. He looked entirely unbothered—placid, almost. As if this was just another quiet afternoon.
Tsuna shifted closer and pressed himself to Kawahira's side. He didn't think and just let himself feel as he nuzzled into the fabric of Kawahira's shirt, burying his nose against his ribs, his scent gland drawn magnetically to where he could sense alpha. He wanted—he needed—to move, to rut, to shed every piece of fabric clinging to his sweat-slicked body and press.
He nearly did. But a hand caught his wrist before he started taking his clothes off. Not harshly. Not with force. Just… calm and unyielding.
"No," Kawahira said simply as a bottle of water appeared from who knew where and was lifted to Tsuna's lips. He drank, dazed, the coolness shocking his throat. Then came fruit—small, juicy pieces placed gently in his mouth. Tsuna didn't know the taste. Just that they were sweet and wet and helped.
He chewed slowly. Swallowed. Then he breathed out.
Still, he felt wrong even with sustenance. Sticky and trapped in his own skin. His shirt clung to him, unbearable. He began to tug at the hem and another hand caught his.
"Leave it on," Kawahira murmured, shifting down and settling beside him. He leaned Tsuna back and—after a pause—wrapped an arm around his waist, drawing him into the curve of his side. Not intimately, but just to hold him and anchor him.
Tsuna whimpered softly, frustration and comfort tangled tight in his chest. He didn't understand this heat, this body, this half-memory ache for something he wasn't ready for.
His nose found the curve of Kawahira's neck and he breathed in.
Earth and ink and stillness.
His mouth brushed the scent gland without thinking. His fingers clutched the front of Kawahira's shirt. His hips rolled ever so slightly—seeking without understanding.
"Stop," Kawahira said again, voice as calm as before. There was no sharpness. Just gravity. "You're not in control right now. So I will be, for both of us."
Tsuna didn't reply. Couldn't. His breath caught on something fragile, and the tears came silently this time—just a few, soaking into the collar of Kawahira's shirt.
He was held tighter, but not possessively. Not as an alpha claiming, but as someone bearing the weight Tsuna couldn't hold on his own.
He drifted back into sleep like that, curled against warmth and steadiness, craving contact but finding—just for now—comfort instead.
.
Next, Tsuna woke up trembling. Everything ached. Not from pain—but need. The kind that left his skin buzzing and his limbs heavy, tingling with phantom sensation. He reached out instinctively, already drawn to the warmth beside him.
Kawahira was still there. Still calm and controlled.
Tsuna didn't think—his mouth brushed along Kawahira's arm, lips skimming over fabric and skin. Then his cheek, then the curve of his shoulder, then down, anywhere he could reach. He kissed softly but desperately, trying to communicate what words couldn't carry.
Please.
Kawahira didn't move. He simply ran his hand up and down Tsuna's back in slow, firm strokes, grounding him. But Tsuna whimpered at the stillness because it wasn't enough.
It wasn't enough and too much at the same time.
He mewled—high and pleading—as he tried to shift closer, fingers fumbling toward the front of Kawahira's yukata. He wanted to pull it open, touch him, feel skin against skin. But Kawahira's free hand caught his wrist again, patient and firm.
"No," he said softly.
Tsuna growled, frustrated, twisting next to him like he could force more contact. But his limbs were uncoordinated, fevered. His body was soaked in scent and sweat, arousal a steady pulse between his legs.
So he did the only thing he had left—he reached inward and followed his Hyper Intuiton's instructions. He let his Sky Flames rise in a low, simmering wave—gentle, coaxing—and pushed into Kawahira's Mist Flames. The contact was soft, deliberate. Not forceful but inviting as he tried to entwining them.
He felt Kawahira twitch beside him, his breath hitch and the muscles in his chest shift. So Tsuna pushed more—traced his Sky flame against Kawahira's in slow, winding loops. Like fingers running down a spine. Like a song being hummed in someone else's chest.
Kawahira's breath caught. His control was iron, but Tsuna could feel the seams strain.
Then a nose pressed into his throat and Kawahira inhaled deeply, face buried near the scent gland just beneath Tsuna's ear and near his neck. He didn't move further., though. Didn't act on instinct. He just breathed him in, slow and steady, as if to memorize it.
Tsuna crooned—the sound breaking from him without thought as he arched his neck, baring himself with complete trust. But Kawahira didn't bite. Didn't claim.
He just nuzzled again, slower this time as he breathed him in like he needed it as much as air.
"Please," Tsuna whispered, raw. "Please, why don't you want me?"
The tears came too easily and he hated it. He hated how small he felt. "I'm not—disgusting, am I?"
Kawahira stiffened for only a heartbeat. Then he lifted his head and looked at Tsuna directly.
"No," he said, voice low. "You smell… good. So good and soothing. You're warm and I like it."
"But you don't want me," Tsuna said, voice cracking with heat and shame.
There was a pause. A long one.
Then, quietly, Kawahira leaned in and licked a slow stripe up Tsuna's neck. Not quite touching the gland—never pressing there—but lingering close enough to burn.
Tsuna shivered—a full-body quake—and gasped, rocking his hips instinctively. But Kawahira's hand settled on his waist again, still firm, still unyielding.
"Not like this," Kawahira murmured. "You're not in your right mind."
Tsuna sobbed again, the sound torn from his throat, muffled against Kawahira's chest. But the other man simply kissed his temple, then down his jaw, then along his neck again, licking slow, wet lines that made Tsuna twitch helplessly.
Kawahira held him close—not to possess, not to take, but to carry him through this storm. And Tsuna clung tighter, not for arousal this time. Not even to feel relief. He just wanted to be comforted and not be alone.
.
Tsuna blinked slowly, eyes still hazy, vision soft around the edges.
His mouth was pressed to warm skin. Sandalwood and something older—ink, maybe. Aged paper. Comfort. He licked without thinking, a long, lazy drag over the slope of Kawahira's neck.
A hum vibrated in his chest. It felt… good and familiar, grounding. He did it again, pressing a sleepy kiss to the same spot, sighing against skin. His gums ached faintly, the phantom pull to bite, but it was distant now. Fading.
He was starting to feel… clearer. Lucidity returned not all at once, but in a rising tide. The warmth of the room. The tangled blankets. The scent—their scent—settled into every corner like a second skin. His eyes widened, then darted to Kawahira's neck.
His face flushed scarlet.
Oh god.
There were bite marks. So many. His gaze flicked lower to see faint red impressions trailing down to his collarbone—too many to count.
He scrambled back slightly, heart slamming against his ribs. His flames, still faintly twined with Kawahira's, were slow to pull away—like they liked the contact.
Kawahira stirred at the loss. His eyes cracked open like he hadn't been sleeping and had been merely resting his eyes. Despite the shadows under them, he looked steady. Dry and tired, but stil calm and very much awake.
"Oh?" he said, voice a low rumble. "You're back to yourself, then?"
Tsuna's mouth opened—and the babble came like a waterfall.
"I—I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—I shouldn't have made you stay! You look exhausted—and I know I slept a lot, I think, but maybe I didn't? And I—I shouldn't have touched you like that—bit you like—like—that—" He buried his face in his hands. "This is so embarrassing. Did you sleep at least some?"
Kawahira let out a slow sigh, long-suffering, and rubbed his temple. Then, calmly, he spoke, "I couldn't sleep."
Tsuna peeked between his fingers. "Why not?"
"Because if I had," Kawahira said evenly, "my flames would've dropped their guard. Yours were already trying to harmonize. If I slipped up, it might've sealed the bond."
Tsuna stared. "So you stayed awake the entire time to stop it?"
Kawahira nodded once, like it was obvious.
Tsuna swallowed hard. His guilt twisted deeper. "I really am sorry. I know you'd never want to be stuck with me like that. It was just—my body—my scent—it was all over you, and probably that—"
"Stop," Kawahira said flatly, placing a hand over his mouth.
Tsuna blinked at him in surprise.
"One," Kawahira continued. "I don't take advantage of people. I trick them, yes, but not like this and certainly not desperate, heat-hazed omegas."
He arched a brow. "Two. I've already told you—I like your scent. You're making me repeat myself and it's irritating."
Tsuna flushed further and scowled into the palm still lightly pressed to his face. "You're only saying that to keep me from spiraling."
Kawahira frowned. He let out a long sigh, leaned in and licked a slow, deliberate line right over the scent gland at Tsuna's neck, something he hadn't done before when he was in heat.
Tsuna jerked in a full-body twitch as a startled, mortifying moan escaped his lips. His eyes widened in betrayal and shock as Kawahira pulled back, expression unreadable.
"Still smells good," he said mildly.
Tsuna clutched the sheets like they could swallow him whole.
"Now," Kawahira continued, shifting with the grace of a man who knew exactly how rattled Tsuna was, "while you're lucid enough to think, it's still too early to be awake."
"But I just—"
He didn't get to finish because Kawahira leaned forward again, arms looping around him without warning, and buried his face into the crook of Tsuna's neck. His breath was warm, steady and already slowing.
"Sleep," he said, muffled. And like that, Kawahira slept with his nose pressed against his scent gland while Tsuna remained wide-eyed, and very much not asleep. With his heart hammering while the Earthling who had just licked his neck and fended off a harmonization attempt used him like a heated pillow.
"You're so weird," Tsuna whispered.
Kawahira snored faintly in response.
.
Tsuna didn't remember falling asleep.
One moment, he was lying wide awake, limbs tangled in warmth and the scent of sandalwood and honey mixed with their flames. The next, he was drifting in a haze of soft breathing and comfort, his body too exhausted to resist the pull.
When he woke, it was to the faint shift of movement beside him as Kawahira stirred.
Tsuna hummed, still heavy with sleep, only half-aware as a nose brushed against the crook of his neck. He mewled softly, instinctive, and arched into the touch before he could think better of it—offering up his neck with a sleepy pliancy.
Then he felt the warm, damp drag of a tongue across his scent gland.
His breath caught. Not in fear, but in something lower, heavier. Even though the fog of his heat had passed, his body remembered and responded as heat curled in his belly like a lazy flame.
He hummed in approval.
Kawahira didn't speak. He just kept going—slow, unhurried licks tracing the curve of Tsuna's neck, breath warm against his skin. Tsuna shuddered, threading his fingers through Kawahira's soft white hair, not to push him away—but to pull him closer.
His breathing turned shallow and a soft noise escaped him as he felt teeth graze—not bite, just press—against his skin. He gasped, body arching slightly, legs parting to give—
Kawahira froze.
The moment cracked like glass as Kawahira's body tensed, and then, with an audible breath, he pulled away.
Tsuna whined involuntarily at the sudden distance. His hand fell back to the bed as Kawahira sat up, rubbing a hand down his face.
"Three days," he said finally, voice gruff with restraint. "We've been in this room for three days."
Tsuna blinked up at him, brain still catching up. Three—
"You need a shower and so do I," Kawahira added, standing.
The blanket slid off his frame and Tsuna's gaze dipped—then immediately snapped away, face coloring furiously as he caught sight of the obvious tent in the front of Kawahira's yukata.
"I'll take the bath first," the man muttered, walking stiffly to the window and pulling it open with a clatter. Fresh air rushed in, sharp and cool, diluting the scent-heavy atmosphere of the room.
Tsuna wrapped the blanket tighter around himself.
"You can take it after me. Or go to the shower. After we get clean, we'll eat."
And just like that, Kawahira stepped into the hallway, leaving Tsuna blinking after him, flushed and bewildered.
The breeze coming through the window made him shiver, but even in the cool air, the space beside him still radiated warmth.
.
.
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