A/N: This is set soon after the Gourmet Arc (aka Tsukiyama is still a piece of shit)

Of course Kaneki knew that he shouldn't. He was well aware of the risks and of the dangers involved, and knew all too well what would happen if things got out of control.

Yet he kept coming back.

Back to his roughness. Back to his bruising hands that gripped Kaneki's shoulders and hips, to the stinging of the scratches he left on his back. To his hands that forcefully grasped Kankei's jaw, pulling him to an insistent, hungry pair of lips. To his teeth that sunk into his shoulder, not quite deep enough to break skin, but enough to make his intention all too clear. To the relentless pounding, echoed by the headboard, that made Kaneki scream until his throat was raw. To the agonizing moments after they had finished where they would silently lay beside each other, turned in opposite directions and hoping to avoid any contact at all.

Was it worth it? The feeling of guilt as he made his way home, covering up the marks on his skin, deflecting questions about where he had been. Was any of that worth holding on to? A part of him knew that he should let it all go, that he should break it off and never have anything to do with any of it again.

But there was a part of him that couldn't let it go.

Maybe it was the part of him that remembered the gentler nights. The nights where things weren't violent, where the banging of the headboard was more of a soft knocking. They would kiss softly, lips moving against each other, until one of them had to break away for air; lips would move to necks and shoulders instead. On these nights there were no bruises, only the ghostly caress of fingertips across skin. Hands that had once been overpowering would tenderly cup his cheeks as his lips met the once greedy pair that now only offered adoration.

Maybe he stayed for the moments where all the tension in his body mounted and then released in an explosion of intensity and feeling; where he could forget all of the hardships in his life, even if it was only for a minute, and he would let himself fall victim right into the arms of a man who he knew could destroy him with the slightest of ease.

It's strange, Kaneki thought, how we can give ourselves so fully to those who we cannot even trust.

It was shameful to admit that he liked it. The roughness and the thrill that came with the danger.

He couldn't help but relish the warmth that pooled in his lower stomach when he felt sharp teeth graze the soft skin of his neck or insistent fingers stroked the sensitive backsides of his thighs; Kaneki practically lived for the way it made him feel to see his own hand tangled in a head full of purple hair, moving up and down between his legs. His thighs shook with every swirl and stroke of the man's tongue. Kaneki let out an involuntary moan.

"Oh, my darling," Tsukiyama purred, pulling his mouth off of Kaneki's dick with a wet pop. "You know how I love it when you're vocal like that..." His voice trailed off as he ran his tongue up the length of Kaneki's shaft, swirling as he reached the tip. "I do wish you would give me the privilege of hearing it more."

/Shut up,/ Kaneki bit his tongue so that the thought wouldn't verbalize.

Tsukiyama smirked. "I do mean it, mon chér, the sound of your voice is more beautiful than an entire symphony."

Kaneki's eyes rolled back into his skull, and he wasn't sure if it was because of what Tsukiyama had said or because of the fact that he had just lowered his head down onto Kaneki's dick again. He let out another moan for the Gourmet as he watched his head sink lower and lower until his lips reached the very base.

"Fuck," breathed Kaneki. His voice was barely audible.

Tsukiyama hummed contentedly, sending vibrations right into Kaneki's most sensitive spot. He felt his back arch, and he didn't even bother to suppress the noises that the purple-haired ghoul elicited. He felt the vibrations from all the way from the lightness in his head to the tingling in his toes.

"F-fuck!"

Tsukiyama hollowed out his cheeks and began to move his head up and down. Kaneki felt his dick hitting the back of the other man's throat and with every suck and bob he felt himself reaching closer and closer to the brink.

"Mmm..."

The new moan from Tsukiyama sent another wave of sensation throughout Kaneki's body. He let out a gasp when Tsukiyama's fingers found the back of his thighs, and his hips bucked into the ghoul's mouth as he reached the edge.

Kaneki's vision went white as he lost himself. "Aah!" he exclaimed, letting his body convulse and his muscles tighten as the Gourmet helped him ride through the orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck... Oh fuck... Tsukiyama..."

Tsukiyama perked up at the sound of his name. He lifted his head from Kaneki's dick, and replaced the warmth of his mouth with his hand. He slowly stroked Kaneki until every drop was gone - and Tsukiyama didn't let any of it go to waste. He caught every bit of come on his tongue and savored the taste, moaning with his eyes halfway shut as if he was the one who had just been blown.

Quite frankly, Kaneki thought it was disgusting.

For a few moments they simply sat there in near silence, with only the sound of each of their heavy breathing. Tsukiyama's hand had moved from Kaneki's dick down and to the side so as to rub small circles against his hip.

These were the times for which Kaneki stayed. The bliss of the quiet after brought to a perfect finish, when he was gentle and he rested his head against Kaneki's inner thigh. Neither of them spoke, and there was a certain feeling that hung in the air that Kaneki couldn't particularly identify. Not love - certainly not that. Kaneki did not love him. Not love, but perhaps a form of affection that transcended simply "friends with benefits." After all, they could hardly consider themselves friends after everything that had happened between the two of them. Yet still, there remained the feeling. Sometimes, in a strange way, Kaneki felt connected to Tsukiyama in these moments. He lifted his hand to brush a strand of hair out of the ghoul's face, and the two of their eyes locked onto each other.

"You said my name this time," Tsukiyama whispered, though it was unaccompanied by the teasing smirk and obnoxious tone that Kaneki would have expected with that statement.

"So?" Kaneki responded. His hand had never left the Gourmet's hair, and he twirled a purple lock in between his fingers. "That doesn't mean anything."

The small circular movements of Tsukiyama's thumb ceased. "It means something."

Kaneki opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again after further contemplation. Tsukiyama would believe what he wanted to believe.

At the end of the night it was just part of the game they played.